Tauriel awoke in the morning to sounds of rebuilding. She stretched muscles sore from lingering injuries and sleeping on rough stones and descended the steps of the tower. She would find Bard, she thought, and assure herself that she was still welcome here.

She hadn't been walking through the streets for long when she heard someone calling her name.

"Tauriel!"

She looked up in time to see Tilda, Bard's youngest daughter, running down the narrow lane. "You came back!" Before she could answer, Tilda threw her arms around Tauriel's waist and hugged her. Tauriel froze momentarily, unsure what to do, then awkwardly patted Tilda on the back. She remembered the girls from Esgaroth, of course, and was glad to see that they were safe and well. She was, however, a little baffled by the open affection the young girl showed her.

Sigrid caught up to them. "Someone told Da that they saw you come back last night," she said. "He bid us to come find you."

Tilda stepped back. "There are elves at the gates," she said, her eyes wide with excitement. "I have always liked elves."

"Ah…I do not believe they are here for me," she said. She was not going try to explain to these young girls the significance of Thranduil's banishment. She did not want to explain it to anyone; it was an open wound that she thought would take a very long time to heal.

"You have to come," Tilda insisted, taking her hand and tugging at it. "I think they have a gift for you."

Tauriel sincerely doubted that, but she let Tilda pull her down the lane and through the town. The closer they got to the gates, the more her worry grew. Had Thranduil somehow learned of her presence here and decided that he did not want her even this close to Mirkwood? She would not stay if Thranduil tried to cause trouble for Bard, but where else could she go that would not take her away from Kili?

"Da!" Tilda called when they neared the gates. She let go of Tauriel's hand and ran up to her father. "We found Tauriel!"

"I can see that," Bard said, smiling indulgently at his young daughter. He looked at Tauriel then, nodding in greeting as his face settled back into a neutral expression. He tipped his head, but Tauriel's gaze had already been drawn to the two elves who stood nearby.

"Feren. Elros," she said, her face ruthlessly blank. Her dagger was at her side, but she had not brought her bow with her, and she did not know what to do with her hands. It was not right, she thought, that she should feel nervous around her own kind. She had known both of these men for hundreds of years, but she was afraid of what they might want.

"Tauriel," Elros said. "We came here at Thranduil's behest to offer aid to the men of Esgaroth, but when we heard that you might be here, we brought something for you as well."

She followed cautiously as Elros walked back to the horse-drawn cart that stood nearby. A number of men and women were busy offloading food, drink and other supplies. As the cart began to empty, a cloth-draped package was revealed. Elros pulled the cloth away, and Tauriel saw a magnificently-carved chest that was very familiar to her. She looked back up at the two elves. "Does Thranduil know you've done this?" she asked.

"He does not," Feren said.

"We cannot undo what was done," Elros said. "But nor do we want you left defenseless on your own."

Bard directed a couple of his men to lift the chest from the back of the cart and carry it under a partially-crumbled portico nearby. After a long moment, Tauriel simply nodded at the two elves and started to walk away.

"Is it true, what we've heard?" Feren asked. When she stopped, turned back, he continued, "that you defied King Thranduil and went to Esgaroth not to pursue fleeing Orcs but to save the life of a dwarf? One of the very dwarves who escaped the dungeons?"

"Yes, it is true," she said. "I healed him, and I do not regret it, whatever the consequences. How can you regret saving the life of someone you love?"

"How can you love a dwarf?" Elros wondered.

Tauriel thought of Kili, his impish charm and his fierce heart. She thought of the way he had stood up against the doubt and derision of the dwarves on the overlook at Erebor. "I love him just as I could have loved an elf, or a man. It does not matter to me where he comes from, or who he is kin to. Only what he makes me feel."

Feren and Elros shared a look. They had both known Tauriel for many long years, and with the exception of an obvious close bond with Legolas, she had always seemed a somewhat solitary elf, remote in a way not entirely unlike Thranduil. She was a skilled warrior and had been an able captain of their guard, but there were few who knew her well.

Both elves were sorry to see her gone from Mirkwood, but neither was willing to risk Thranduil's wrath by asking for her return. The chest had been a compromise, one they hoped Tauriel appreciated and Thranduil never learned of.

"We wish you well, wherever you choose to go," Elros said.

Tauriel inclined her head. "Hannon le." She waited until they were gone, riding away with the empty cart, then turned to Bard. "I meant to find you this morning, to be sure you don't disapprove of my presence here."

"Why would I disapprove? I meant it when I said you were welcome here."

"You do not want Thranduil as an enemy," she said. "He could turn on you if he finds you sheltering me."

"For Thranduil's aid to my people I am grateful," he said, "but he rules Mirkwood, not Dale. The Master of Lake-town is gone, and we will make our own choices now."

Tauriel nodded, for it was a sentiment she understood and respected. Was she not in much the same situation herself? "I will provide whatever help I can, in exchange for shelter," she said. "I can stand guard, and help train your men to fight, if such is needed. I am no great craftsman, but I can clear rubble as well as anyone else."

"You owe us nothing, but any help you would be willing to give will be most appreciated."

When Bard left with his daughters, Tauriel stepped into the portico where the chest had been left. It had been given to her as a gift when Thranduil had named her captain of his guard. She ran her fingers over some of the carvings on the lid.

She knelt down and opened the lid. On top were a fresh pair of daggers, beautifully carved and wickedly sharp. There was also a sword and sheath, the long blade engraved with elegant curving script. A number of clothing items filled the rest of the space, including the long hooded cloak she often wore during the winter, and a set of leaf-maille armor. At the bottom she found a supply of lembas bread. She smiled to herself, comforted to know that not all of her people despised her for what she'd done.

Fili walked into the Hall of Kings and found that a discussion—not quite an argument—was already taking place. Concerning his brother, no doubt, at least in part. He had not seen Kili since their conversation the previous night. And since Thorin had not yet awoken, Fili felt that it was his responsibility to stand up for his brother.

He had had all night to think about Kili and Tauriel, and all of the complications a relationship between the two could bring. But somewhere in those long hours some of Kili's words had started to work their way deep into his mind.

"We need to decide what to do about the men of Lake-town, and about the elves," Balin said.

"What more is to be done?" Dain wondered.

"Thorin promised Bard a share of the treasure in exchange for the aid he gave us at Lake-town. We owe him that much at least, after the town was destroyed by Smaug. The survivors will need resources to live out the winter in the ruins of Dale."

"Do we not need resources to rebuild Erebor?" another of the Iron Hills dwarves wondered.

"The treasure hold is vast," Balin said. "There is enough to rebuild Erebor a hundred times over at least. We all gave our word to Bard. We need to honor it."

Dori, Nori and Bofur, standing near Balin, all nodded. "We would not have reached Erebor in time had it not been for Bard getting us into Lake-town," Dwalin said. "We owe the man a debt."

Dain had not been taken by dragon sickness, but he was hard-headed and skeptical. He shook his head at Balin. "And the elves? What is it you would give to Thranduil, that scheming, smirking son of an Orc?"

"If you think Thranduil will not regroup and come back here eventually, you are wrong," Balin said. "If we want peace with the elves, something needs to be done."

"How much gold do you propose to give him?" Dain asked.

"It is not gold he wants," Balin said. "It is gems. A small chest filled with white gems. They are what he came here for many years ago, before Smaug. If we give them to him now, we may indeed have peace with the elves for many years to come. Would that not be better than more threats of battle? We need peace if we are to rebuild and flourish here."

"I do not like elves," Dain said, quite unnecessarily. "Never have, never will. And here we are, talking about giving them treasure. And not only that, but we have a dwarf amongst us who claims to love an elf."

"I believe him," Fili said, stepping up beside Balin to speak for the first time. "I believe Kili when he says that he loves her."

"And do you support him in that?"

Fili was quiet a moment, his face pensive. "I told him last night that it might be best not to pursue Tauriel." A number of the dwarves nearby nodded in agreement, but Fili held up a hand to quiet the murmurs that started. "I was wrong to tell him that. The idea of a dwarf and an elf together may make many of us uncomfortable, and I do not want Kili to face scorn from his own people because of this choice, but I do not presume to tell him who he is allowed to love. And may I add that of any elf we've ever encountered, we owe Tauriel a debt. She saved Kili's life. She saved mine, and I will thank her for that if I have the chance. And though he has not awoken yet, she saved Thorin's as well."

Fili's words gave some of the others courage. "Have you ever seen an elf shed tears for a dwarf?" Bofur asked, stepping up beside Fili. "I never would have believed it had I not seen it with my own eyes. But that's just what she did."

Oin came forward as well. "Elvish medicine is a wondrous thing," he said. "Far beyond what skills I possess. If Tauriel had not agreed to come here, we would be mourning the deaths of three more of our own. I have been with Thorin all morning. He sleeps still, but I believe more peacefully than last night. She collapsed while trying to heal the wounds that Thorin hid from us, and nothing we tried could rouse her. However uncomfortable it may make us, we do owe her a debt. That debt can be paid by slowing our rush to judgment of both Tauriel and Kili."

"I don't like it," Dain said.

"We don't have to like it," Balin said. "But Kili is grown, and if we do not want to lose him, we may have to try to accept it."

In a small but secluded field outside the main gates of Dale, Tauriel practiced with her daggers. She whirled and slashed, her movements violently quick but undeniably graceful. Anyone watching would have been mesmerized by her speed and more than a little intimidated by her skill. But at the moment she was alone, and she preferred it that way.

In her mind she was back on Ravenhill, fighting her way through a dozen Orcs on her way to Kili. She thought of Bolg, the enormously strong Orc who had nearly killed Kili not once, but twice. She knew that Bolg was the one who had shot Kili at Mirkwood, though at the time she hadn't known that the arrow was tipped with Morgul poison.

The thought of being too late to save him from injury not once but twice infuriated her, and she redoubled her intensity. She ran toward the nearby wall, leapt and vaulted off it. She came down on her shoulders in a forward roll before springing back to her feet. She spun and twirled her daggers as she moved across the grass in a deadly dance.

That was how Kili found her, flame-red hair streaming behind her as she moved. Her concentration was so absolute that she didn't notice him for several long minutes. He stood still, watching breathlessly as she fought an invisible foe. He had seen her fight before, but never when he wasn't fighting or fleeing himself. Now, he could simply stand back and admire her skill, the graceful and deadly way she moved.

She spun one last time, and ended with one arm arched over her head, the other straight out from her side, the tips of both daggers aimed directly toward Kili. She saw him instantly, and her heart began pounding from more than simple exertion.

"I was not expecting you," she said, dropping her arms to her sides.

"I have wanted to watch you doing that since the day we met," Kili confessed, his eyes avid and warm.

Tauriel's eyes flicked away at the same time her lips tipped up in a little smile. "Watch me doing what?"

"Fighting the way you do."

"You've seen me fight before."

"Not like that, not when there are no enemies to be slain. I like watching the way you move, graceful and deadly."

Tauriel was embarrassed at the same time she was warmed by his words. People had admired her fighting skills before, but not the same way Kili did. And she was certain that nobody had ever looked at her the way Kili looked at her. He was so sure of his feelings, and had no fear of expressing them. She, on the other hand, had spent her entire life amongst a people who were known for keeping such things much more private.

"If you teach me how to handle a blade like that," Kili said, "I will teach you archery in return."

Tauriel smiled, for they both knew that she had been using a bow for far longer than he'd been alive. "Will you now?"

He smiled back. "Of course."

She flipped one of her daggers so she caught the flat of the blade and held the hilt toward him. He took it, and she stepped back to a safe distance. "All right," she said, holding her hand out to show him how she held the hilt of the dagger. "Now move it in your hand like this." She flipped the blade slowly a couple times, enjoying Kili's look of intense concentration.

He tried the move with the dagger he held, and scowled when the blade dropped to the ground. He tried, again and again, with the same result. Tauriel knew his shorter fingers would make handling the blade more difficult, but he was nothing if not determined.

"Show me again," he said after once more bending down to pick up the fallen dagger.

"Are you sure you don't want to try something else?"

"I'll get it, I'll get it," he muttered, scowling at the blade and missing Tauriel's ill-concealed smile. "Show me again."

She did, standing beside him so he could mirror the movements of her blade. Tauriel realized, with no little surprise, that the strange thing she was feeling was peace. After all of the turmoil, pain and fear, after being certain she would spend her life mourning a love that had never had a chance, she was standing beside Kili with no threat of war between them. He was alive, she was alive, and they had their chance.

So she showed him again, and again until he was able to twist the dagger in his hand—albeit slowly—without dropping it.

"I could kill an Orc with that move," he declared.

"Perhaps a slow one," she said, and had to bite her lip to contain a laugh at the indignant look he shot her. "You need to throw the blade after you spin it." She demonstrated, flipping the blade through her fingers and pivoting to throw it at a nearby tree. The blade embedded itself in the trunk and she grinned, gesturing for him to follow suit.

"I have thrown plenty of knives in my day," Kili assured her. "This will not be a problem."

And so commenced an hour of increasing frustration for Kili, as time after time he threw the dagger, only for it to bounce uselessly to the ground. Tauriel's affection for him grew with every errant throw and muttered curse. She tried to hide her amusement from him, but when his frustration boiled over and he simply heaved the dagger at the tree with a growled Khuzdul curse, her laughter bubbled free.

"Are you laughing?" Kili demanded.

"No," she said, pressing a hand to her lips and turning away. She went down to a knee to pick up the fallen dagger, and her shoulders shook. She loved this man, she was happy, and she felt a freedom and a peace she'd never felt before.

"Tauriel..." Kili said, his voice indignant again.

She gave up trying to hold her laughter back. She braced a hand against the trunk of the tree and let it ring out across the field. She let herself feel the joy of the moment, let her ever-growing love for Kili swamp her.

When she looked up at him he had a strange expression on his face, one of both wonder and heat. "What is it?" she asked.

"I have never heard you laugh before." Their eyes held for a suspended moment, then Kili was moving, striding toward her. Tauriel, still on her knee beside the tree, had to look up at him this time when he stopped just in front of her, not quite touching, but oh, so close. He lifted a hand and brushed his fingers over her cheek.

Her breath caught at the simple gesture, and then left her in a rush when he took her face in both hands and leaned in to press his lips to hers. The kiss whispered of a passion neither had ever felt before, and something deeper. It whispered of love, and a future neither was willing to let go of, come what may.

Kili leaned his forehead against hers, and Tauriel kept her eyes closed. She wanted to savor this, the perfect peace she felt. Nothing in this life was ever easy, but she and Kili had traveled a brutal path together already. She wanted this peace, this love, for both of them.

She wrapped her arms around him and held on, and for that moment they both felt as though they were the only two souls in the world.