Fíli knew it was unnecessary to check the rings—he had put them safely in their case just last night—but the fact that he was getting married in less than four hours had him anxious not to forget anything important. And the rings were certainly important.

As gold and diamonds sparkled up at him from the velvet-lined case, Fíli allowed himself a moment's happy vision of the smile Sif would give him when he placed the ring on her finger. She would be more radiant than even these precious gems…

Willing his mind back to the practical details of this morning's preparation, he snapped the case closed again.

"Kíli!"

His brother's answer echoed back from behind the closed door of the bathroom down the hall.

"Kíli, where's your suit?"

"Huh?" The bathroom door opened, and Kíli peered out, hair in a messy bun and his face hidden by a mask of lather.

"I'm going to put the rings in your—" The odd thing about his brother's appearance finally registered in Fíli's mind. "What are you doing?"

"Cleaning up for your wedding," Kíli said brightly, flourishing the razor that Fíli hadn't seen him use since his teens. Normally, he maintained his short, stubbly beard with the electric trimmer.

"No-one's seen you without a beard in years," said Fíli. "You're going to be a baby-faced stranger in all the wedding photos."

Kíli laughed as if this were an excellent joke. "I was just trying to look nice for you and Sif."

"I appreciate that, Kí, but it'll be weird. I want you to look like yourself at my wedding."

"If you're sure. Personally, I thought maybe the stubble was a bit too roguish for a best man, but it's your wedding." He lifted his brows, emphasizing a new thought. "And Sif's, of course! Better check with her."

"Right." She might have her own opinion about how she wanted her wedding party to look, and Fíli wanted her to be happy. If she was, he would be, too.

"Give me that," he said, snatching the razor from Kili's hand as his brother made an exaggerated gesture of preparing to draw it over his cheek. Then Fíli reached for his phone.

Tauriel lowered her mascara wand and glanced down at the phone chiming from the countertop. "Your groom texted," she said.

Sif met Tauriel's eyes in the hairdresser's mirror. "What does he need?"

Tauriel picked up her friend's phone and opened the message: Do you want Kíli to shave for wedding photos?

"What?" Tauriel blurted, her fingers already flying with a reply.

Shave? You mean he's getting rid of his beard entirely?

"Tauri?" Sif's expression narrowed in concern. "That didn't sound good."

"Sorry, nothing's wrong. Fíli asks if you want Kíli to shave for the wedding photos."

"Shave the stubble off or just trim it up?" The bride's worry had melted now into amusement.

Tauriel shrugged. "That's what I just—"

The phone chimed again.

Yes. He will shave it off if you want.

"Kíli is offering to go clean shaven," Tauriel said, her tone incredulous.

"It's sweet of him to ask." Sif spun her chair to face her future sister-in-law, oblivious to the hairdresser's protests. "But it sounds like you don't want him to," she said with a teasing smile.

Tauriel returned with a guilty smile of her own. "Well, no. I think his stubble is handsome."

"But just think how much nicer he would be to kiss without it." Sif's eyes sparkled. "Right now, it must be like kissing a hedgehog."

Tauriel laughed even as her cheeks warmed. "Oh, you're not wrong! But…" In truth, she enjoyed Kíli's prickly kisses. "Have you ever even seen Kíli without facial hair?"

Sif giggled. "No! Gosh, that would be weird for the photos, wouldn't it?" She spun her chair back around to more laughing protests from the hairdresser. "Tell him to leave the beard. We want to recognize him in the photos!"

When Kíli arrived at church, Tauriel came running down the front steps to meet him.

"You look stunning," he told her. The royal blue bridesmaid's dress brought out the vibrant red of her hair, which was styled to fall down her back in a long, loose coil. "Blue is a good color on you. Though I would like you even better in white."

When she smiled, she was absolutely radiant. "Sif and I were afraid we'd have to get you a name tag just so people could identify you."

"Come on, I wouldn't look that different if I shaved."

Tauriel merely arched a brow at him, a look that he found particularly fetching.

"So I take it I'm not allowed to shave for our wedding, either?"

"Kíli, don't you dare!" Her intensity softened. "Did you want to?"

He laughed. "Not really. But if the idea gets you this hot and bothered, I might keep offering."

"I'm not hot and bothered."

"You're not?" Kíli clasped her waist. With her heels on, she was nearly taller than he was, and when he drew her close, their brows met. He didn't kiss her, but nuzzled a scratchy cheek against her soft skin. He could smell the woodsy, green scent of her signature perfume mingled with some sweet, floral note from her hairspray.

Tauriel dragged her nails over his stubble, then redirected his lips to hers. Her breath was minty, and he tasted a lingering menthol tingle on her tongue. He wondered briefly if he was destroying her lipstick, but if so, she clearly didn't care.

"You were saying?" he teased as she drew back to catch her breath.

"Maybe I am just a little," she conceded, eyes sparkling.

"A little hot or a little bothered?"

She smirked. "Both."

"That's what I thought." Behind her, Kíli spotted the photographer, lens raised, standing in the church door. "Hey, how long has she been here with the camera?"

Tauriel shrugged, laughing. "I swear I didn't ask her to follow me."

"Ah well, to be on the safe side, I suppose you'd better kiss me again," Kíli said, turning with Tauriel to give the camera a better angle.

Still giggling, Tauriel willingly obliged.

Author's note:

Happy Midsummer's Day! Some cute, indulgent wedding fluff seems appropriate.

I like the idea that in another life, Kíli gets to be just a little bit taller than Tauriel.

This fic is part of my "Silliest Modern AU" series.