Two days before midsummer, on Tauriel's birthday, Kíli rode with her down to the shores of the lake. There, a boat had been waiting for them, and they rowed out onto the water and watched the setting sun turn sky and water to flame.
"The last time we were here, the whole world was truly afire," Tauriel mused, drawing her fingers through the water.
Kíli nodded, glancing away across the lake behind her to the dark ruins of Laketown where, already, new buildings were rising above the wreckage. Bard was using his share of the treasure to rebuild his old home as well as the town of Dale.
"I'm glad the gold of Erebor can at last do something good," he said. "Maybe it will begin to atone for my family's curse."
"Kíli, you are not cursed," Tauriel said softly. She laid her hand over his on the gunwale.
"Thank you." The edge of his mouth quirked upwards. "Though some people might say that would explain how I came to be trapped in a boat with an elf. You might murder me. Or worse."
"Well, for a start, I think I shall make you drink wine with me," she said with a smirk, filling a glass and handing it to him. It was a lavender mead, favored by the elves as a summer wine; her father had sent it to her as a gift.
Tauriel settled herself in the bottom of the boat, leaning against Kíli's legs as he sat behind her on the thwart. They counted the stars that were flickering to life above them as the boat drifted with the breeze on the smooth water.
Kíli's fingers strayed through her hair, smoothing it over her neck and shoulders. After they had been sitting for some minutes without speaking, he slipped his hand beneath her chin and tipped her head back to kiss him. Her lips were sweet with mead.
"I want you to know my name," he said.
Tauriel turned so that she was facing him, her arms propped on his lap. "It's not Kíli," she said.
He shook his head. "I mean, Kíli is what everyone has always called me, so it's not that it isn't my name. But it's not my true name.
"All of us dwarves have our secret names. We don't share them with outsiders and we don't write them down. Only those closest to us know them, our families and those we love."
"We have names like that, among the elves," Tauriel agreed.
"My name is Bakhâl," Kíli said.
"Bakhâl" she repeated, trying out unfamiliar syllables. She smiled up at him. "I love you, Bakhâl."
He leaned down and kissed her.
"My mother," Tauriel said, "when I was yet a little child, named me Thalind. She said she knew I was going to be stubborn."
He laughed softly. "Is that what it means?"
"Yes. But it can also be understood to mean a steadfast heart."
"I like that better."
Kíli rowed them back to shore in the hour before dawn, and as they drew the boat up on the shingled beach, the first rays of sunlight broke over them. As they moved from the shore, Kíli caught Tauriel's hand and drew her to a stop beside him.
"We were standing here, not quite a year ago, when I promised I'd come back to you. And here we are, both of us again."
Tauriel clearly remembered the hope that had shone in his face then. She saw hope in him now, less impetuous, more sure, and yet as beautiful as before. A smile slowly spread across her face.
"I know what I want now, if you've anything to ask," she said.
Kíli clasped her hand in both of his. "Will you be my love? My starlight? My elf queen? The treasure of my hands and the jewel of my heart? Tauriel, will you marry me?"
"I promise," she told him.
There were tears on his face; Tauriel felt them fall on her skin as she drew him to her breast.
"I'm sorry," Kíli said after a moment. "I hope you can think of something to tell everyone back home, because I'm going to die of happiness."
"You wouldn't dare," she whispered and slipped down on her knee to kiss him. From his own enthusiastic response, Kíli did not seem in any immediate danger of expiring.
"Your father said I could have you," he said when her lips had strayed from his own.
"What? When did you—"
"Mm... A fortnight ago, when I went to Dale and Silwen was on an errand back to the Greenwood."
"That was crafty! I wondered why Silwen hadn't left instructions for the repairs to her flet when we were there before..." She placed a last kiss in the hollow of his throat, then raised her head to meet his gaze. "My parents were kind to you?"
"They were. They could not pretend I was everything they wanted, but I can forgive them for that because it was clear that they love you."
"Oh Kíli, I'm glad. I was afraid..."
"Well, there were a few minutes when I thought I was going to die on your father's rug. Not that he did anything! But my lungs forgot to work."
Tauriel smiled, trying to imagine him facing her father. "Thank you for being brave for me," she said, both jesting and serious.
He nodded. "Now I can give you your birthday present," he said, and pressed something into her hand.
The early sunlight flashed from a large faceted emerald set in gold and strung on a golden chain. As she turned the pendant, she found that the back was wrought into the shape of an oak leaf with the edges gently curled about the stone to hold it in place.
"It's wonderful," Tauriel breathed.
"It's not just your birthday present," Kíli explained. "It's also my last courtship gift. The final one is always a stone; the lady only accepts if she means to marry."
"So everyone will know I've accepted you," she said, looking from the stone to his face. "Is that all there is to it? Do I not need to seek your family's approval?"
"Oh, we'll have a party for you, don't worry. But as the woman, you really do get to decide if you want me or not. And since you do, nothing else is needed to make it official. Don't worry," he added. "Silwen told me about your elvish betrothals, and I also thought, well, maybe later this year we could pay your family a visit and do it properly by your customs as well."
"I'd like that."
Tauriel offered the chain to Kíli and he clasped it about her neck.
"You look beautiful," he told her.
"And you look as happy as I wished I could have made you those many months ago."
She took his hand, and this time, they went up from the lake together.
As Kíli had promised, there was a betrothal feast soon after their return. Tauriel found it slightly odd to be the center of attention; people gave her and Kíli the same mixture of interest and deference she always seen offered to her king and prince back home. Even being the Elvenking's envoy had not been like this. But now as Kíli's betrothed, she was suddenly worthy of notice. Well, official notice, that was. The dwarves had always watched her as a novelty, but now they could acknowledge her connection to Kíli.
Their betrothal made little difference among her close friends, but those dwarves who knew her less well became more open with her, as if their King's formal choice of her had finally settled their indecision about whether to accept her presence among them. Even those who did not approve of her being an elf seemed more relaxed around her, at last knowing where she stood in regards to them. And even if it did mean the occasional doubtful glance or grudging concession—no-one would be outright rude to the king's betrothed—it was an improvement to the embarrassed, furtive notice it replaced.
Even Daín seemed to soften towards her somewhat. Tauriel wasn't sure if it was because he saw that Kíli was happy, or that she had not seemed to distract him over-much from his duties as king.
Frey had likely been right that Kíli needed something to set his heart on against all the change and responsibilities that he faced. But Tauriel thought there seemed a part of him that could come to flourish under his newfound leadership. It was the tiniest bud now, but given time, it would come to full leaf. He merely waited on the love of his people to know what he could be as their leader and king. Would having her at his side slow them from seeing his worth? She could only hope that it would be enough for his people to see that she loved him, too.
Author's note:
Sorry for the shorter-than-usual update this time. I'm about to escape the furnace that is Texas and travel to my native Midwest for a few weeks and wanted to get this posted before getting distracted by things like trees and stars and prairie flowers.
I got Kili's secret name from the Neo Khuzdul dictionary available at the Dwarrow Scholar's blog. As I understand, the language is based largely on conjecture, but it's good enough for my purposes.