They wore each other's names on their skin.

Kíli's name was inked in curved, black letters on the inside of Fíli's left wrist, while Fíli's name adorned the inside of Kíli's right wrist in the same manner. They were brothers, they loved each other and belonged together, always and forever, and they wanted the whole world to know that.

And then, later, there was Tauriel. She belonged to them as well.

Therefore, one night, after they had gone through the whole ordeal of her miscarriage and their failed attempt at getting pregnant again, she told them about her decision to get the insides of her wrists tattooed as well, with their names, Kíli on her left one, Fíli on her right one, a token of her love for them.

Fíli and Kíli were deliriously happy, deciding spontaneously that they would also get her name inked into their wrists. Because they belonged together, loved each other, all three of them, and they wanted to show just that.

And so, finally, Tauriel's name graced the inside of Kíli's left and Fíli's right wrist, and their names hers.

Eventually, hopefully sooner than later, the three of them would be connected by their child, the child being the proof of their union. But until then those tattoos were their connection, proving their unusual bond.

And they didn't care anymore what other people thought about it.

Fíli remembered the uppity woman in the drugstore in Tauriel's hometown one Saturday night, dressed in a light pink skirt suit, hair perfectly styled, looking disdainfully at them as they were buying their first pregnancy test together. Tauriel was almost two weeks late, something which hadn't happened since her teenage days.

Fíli and his brother were overexcited, touching, embracing, kissing her; it was clear to see for everyone that Tauriel was involved with them both, that either one of them could be the father. "People with such low morals shouldn't become parents. It's a shame! Decent women, married and faithful to their husbands, can't have children, but the likes of you..." She shook her head and walked past them.

It was like a slap in the face, especially to Tauriel. Fíli would never forget her devastated expression. He wanted to counter something, to take verbally revenge, but it was Kíli who said, "Well, having sex with only one man your whole life doesn't make you a good person, as having sex with two men at the same time doesn't make you a bad one!"

He was rather loud, so several people turned their heads into their direction.

The woman froze. Fíli was afraid that the whole situation would escalate, so he grabbed his brother's arm with one hand while wrapping his other around Tauriel's shoulders. "Let's go," he simply said and they did just that, paying for the pregnancy test, leaving.

And then, their child, this child, tiny and innocent in its mother's womb, died later, cursed by this woman, intolerant and narrow-minded, and others like her.

But now they were stronger, their love, their bond, was stronger. It wasn't only about sex, it was more, all-encompassing, it was about friendship, trust, desire, love. A unique relationship, sacred as any other between people who truly, deeply cared for one another.

Fíli and Kíli had always known that they were inseparable, and finally they found the perfect woman, to love, to cherish, who understood.

And the names they wore on each other's skin were proof to that. Like wedding bands and friendship bracelets, only different.