Kíli respected Daín. His manner could be brusque at times, but he was wise and well-liked by the dwarves of his clan. And Kíli was finding he could rely on him for advice on overseeing the growing dwarf city in Erebor.

Yet Kíli found he could not feel truly fond of his cousin for the simple fact that Daín firmly, if fairly tacitly thus far, opposed his relationship with Tauriel. It made sense that Daín should resent her for her allegiance to the Elvenking. Thorin's account of Mirkwood's betrayal in Erebor's hour of peril was well-known among his kin, and for many of those west of the Misty Mountains, the only tale they knew of the woodland elves. Kíli had grown up hearing those same stories, and he knew he shouldn't blame Daín, or any of the others, for their distrust. But Tauriel had not been what he had expected—for one thing, she was far more pretty! But beneath her elven hauteur she had proved kind and sweet and maybe even a little vulnerable. She wasn't like the proud and stubborn Elvenking. Why couldn't Daín see that?

Kíli had vainly hoped that Daín would forget the matter during Tauriel's absence. But really, was anyone likely to forget he waited for her, if for no other reason than that he spent many of his free evenings finding ways to improve her old rooms and make them more suitable for an elf?

Indeed, as spring drew on and Tauriel's promised return grew near, Kíli could sense Daín was preparing to say something about the elf maid. Thus, he was not truly surprised, despite being caught somewhat off his guard, when Daín broached the topic one afternoon following a conference regarding the distribution of lodging and labor among the newest arrivals from the Iron Hills.

"Listen: I've avoided the subject long enough, hoping you'd come to it on your own, but the elf girl; it can't go on," Daín had begun sternly.

Kíli shuffled the pages he had been glancing over and looked up to meet Daín's face. He wished Balin had not just left the room moments before. Likely, Daín had noticed his exit and seized the chance to corner his young cousin. All the answers Kíli had rehearsed in his mind were suddenly gone, and he found himself stammering, "It's not—"

Daín cut him off. "If you were still only Dís's baby boy, no one might care. But you're to be king! And in barely more than a month!"

The reference to his youth touched a nerve. Kíli knew that he had been dismissed by many as an unpromising prince and heir of Durin. His uncle and elder brother had filled the role so well that he had taken his position as third-in-line as freedom to be nonchalant, and yes, careless, about what might be expected of him. But still, it rankled when those who had overlooked him before refused to see him any other way, even now.

"I know I'm not my uncle!" Kíli burst out, surprising himself a little by his own vehemence. "And I know I'm not my brother. Believe me, I wish they were both here!" He took a breath, and continued somewhat more calmly. "I know I'm not what anyone expected, but let me prove myself. I want to be a good king! I'll take your advice in anything else, and gladly, but this is the one thing I'm sure of: I love Tauriel, and I want her with me."

Kíli eyed his cousin steadily, knowing he could not back down if he was to carry his point.

Daín cleared his throat, and Kíli wondered momentarily if Daín was finding this conversation as awkward as he. "If you want to be a good king, you have to play the part, give them something to respect," Daín observed.

"I couldn't respect a king who lacked the will to act on what he knew was true," Kíli said softly.

Daín's face eased somewhat, and he spoke more gently than he had before. "Lad, I'm trying to help you."

"I know," Kíli acknowledged. He sighed and dropped the pages to ruffle his fingers through his hair. "I never thought I'd be king," he admitted. "Thorin would be—he was born for it, you know?—and then my brother, who'd have a family by then. I never imagined myself here! I know I won't do this the way they would have, but I have to follow what's been given to me." He allowed himself a smile then, as he added, "When I set out, I didn't expect to meet Tauriel, either. But I can't deny the way I feel for her, any more than I can undo dragon's fire."

Daín smiled unexpectedly. "You are like your uncle," he said.

Kíli looked up, surprised.

"You're just as stubborn, when it comes to what you believe."

Kíli was unsure if that was exactly a compliment. Still, he was pleased. He, like his brother, had always considered Thorin to be the measure of the man he hoped to become.

Daín continued, stern once more, "If you would have my counsel, an elf is no fitting match for one of Durin's sons. Would you divert the eldest bloodline and miss the chance for Durin the Deathless to return again?"

Kíli sighed. "How is that any different than if I didn't wed? Most don't, anyway," he said pointedly. It was true; dwarf women were few, and men married less often than they did not.

"If she were to give you sons, they would still be your heirs. None would bar them the throne for mixed blood."

"Then there isn't a problem." The words came out sounding more petulant that Kíli had intended.

"That is the problem," Daín returned, just as stubbornly. "You would supplant the highest of the Dwarven royal lines, and leave us no choice but to honor it."

Kíli passed a hand over his face. "So instead, I'm supposed to what?" he said unhappily. "Pass the throne on to the next in line? Or refuse to honor my love for Tauriel?" He knew Daín followed him in succession. Was that what this was about? Did Daín really think he'd make such a poor king?

Daín's expression softened, as if he guessed his younger cousin's thought. "Nay, lad, the crown is yours, and I won't take it from you. But you must see how much more reasonable it would be for you to choose a wife among your own folk. Choosing an elf only makes trouble for you."

How was he supposed to say he was fairly certain he didn't want anyone, if she was not Tauriel? Kíli wondered.

Daín continued gently, "Would she even marry you? I'm not saying she doesn't love you, but her kind live forever. It may be better for you both to end things here."

"I haven't asked if she'll marry me," Kíli began, impressed by how calm he sounded, when he felt anything but. "Yet I'm sure she doesn't mean to leave me. Elves are like us; they choose each other for life, and they don't love a second time. And I think... I think there may be no going back for us, after what she did to save me. You don't have to understand, but I'm asking you to trust me. I'm not choosing this on a whim."

Daín considered Kíli intently for a few moments. "So be it, lad. I may not encourage you, but I'll not oppose you, if your mind is set. Do you wish to consider it and give me an answer in a day or two?"

Kíli shook his head. "I'll be just as sure then."

"Aye, I thought as much," Daín noted drily. "We'll do our best to help you, lad, you know that, right? We do want to see you do well as king."

Kíli nodded. "Thank you."

"Just," Daín added over his shoulder as he left the room. "You're on your own with your mum." Kíli wasn't sure, but he thought his cousin was grinning.

"You look like you need a drink," Dwalin had noted later that evening, shoving a foaming tankard towards Kíli, who accepted it gratefully.

"Were you arguing with my Da?" Daín's daughter, Frey, asked while Kíli took a first long draught. She had arrived with the most recent party of folk from the Iron Hills, and had easily found friends with Kíli and Ori and others their own age. She was a pretty lass, with her father's auburn hair, a lively face, and the full but well-proportioned figure that was considered ideal by dwarven standards. And she was merry and kind, with a spirit that matched her bright smile. His brother would have liked her, Kíli thought.

"How'd you guess?" Kíli asked, eyeing her quizzically.

"Oh, he's had that antsy feel that he gets when he's getting ready to tear someone a new one. You look surprisingly intact."

Kíli shrugged. "It wasn't as bad as I expected, really. I mean, I think I won. Sort of."

"That's m' lad," Dwalin pronounced, accompanying the words with a clap to the back that nearly had Kíli choking on his ale. "Don't let the old boy push you around. It's not good for 'im. Besides, he'll like you better for standin' up to 'im."

Frey, too, regarded Kíli with respect. "I promise he's all soft inside, when you get to know him, but Da can be, well, downright scary at first." She paused, then ventured, "Was it about the elf?"

Kíli flushed. He didn't mind what people knew about him and Tauriel, but somehow it was embarrassing to have her ask him. He suspected Daín may have hoped Kíli would take an interest in his daughter, though thankfully nothing had ever been said about the matter. Though perhaps that was not so surprising; dwarf women were as strong-willed as the men, and marriages tended to depend on the bride's choice, rather than any familial arrangement.

"Right," Kíli said, covering his embarrassment with another pull at his mug.

"Sorry," Frey returned kindly. "It's not my business. I just can't help being curious, that's all." She shrugged. "I've never seen any lady elves before. I'd like to meet her."

"I'll tell ye," Dwalin interjected. "They're all willowy long limbs, starry eyes, and trailin' hair, which they use to trap unsuspectin' dwarf lads."

Frey giggled in spite of herself, and Kíli shot Dwalin an imploring glance.

"Nah, his Tauriel is all right. The worst I can say of her is that she fell for this one right here, when she had twelve other fine examples to choose from," Dwalin thumped his young kinsman fondly on the shoulder, finished his own ale, and rose to leave.

"I think Dwalin would more likely frighten away any elves, ladies or otherwise," Frey decided, still laughing, after the older dwarf was gone.

Kíli, who had recovered by now, nodded in agreement. "Well, you'll make the first dwarf maid Tauriel has met, so if you both don't embarrass yourselves, you should find each other quite interesting."

Frey smiled. "I hope so!"

Author's Note:

My interpretation of Dain is based rather more on the brief mention of him in Appendix A as "a great and wise king" under whom Erebor prospered, than on Gandalf's comment in the third film that Dain is less reasonable than Thorin!