A Fear

Kíli is not so sure he likes Thranduil's halls.

He can appreciate the beauty, the cold starlight that leaks in from the vast clear sky above, the towering pillars carved straight from the earth, the warm golden hum of the long stretching corridors.

But there is something about it all, an unease that niggles at the back of his mind and leaves his chest tight. Even surrounded by stone, Kíli is not comfortable in the Woodland Realm.

All of that without considering the strange elf.

He was unsure if he should stay by her side once Elladan and Oropher escorted him to their Healing Halls where she slept peacefully under the careful watch of another tall elf. He certainly was tempted to; the grief in her eyes when she saw him, it burned in his stomach, made him feel bitter.

His restlessness would not allow him to linger for too long, however, and he slips from the Halls once he is sure the elf will not stir.

His wandering feet lead him down several wrong turns and past several distrustful elves before he manages to find some kind of training or sparring room. The room is set up in a similar fashion to the Fighting Field Billa designed in Hobbiton; a raised platform stands in the centre of the room, with wooden weapons hanging from the walls and some archery targets in the corner.

It is also, thank Mahal, deserted.

His fingers itch, and before he can second guess himself, he is pulling out his blades and pulling off his outer robe. It is warm within the Elvenking's halls and he allows himself to sink into it as he steps onto the raised platform.

He inhales slowly, dropping into the first stretch Billa taught him. As he exhales, he moves purposefully into the next hold, his blades swinging in a wide arc.

Kíli focuses on his breathing, allows the push and pull from his lungs to guide him through his movements. The worries circling in his mind fade into quiet.

And yet. He cannot pull his mind completely from the elf he left sleeping.

Oropher told him her name is Tauriel, that she is the Captain of the Guard, and the Prince of Mirkwood's closest friend. That information did not feel completely new to him, almost as if he had heard it before, in a dream.

The room grows warm and he pulls his tunic over his head, throwing it into one corner with a frustrated grunt.

The answer is within his reach–if he could just push a little farther forward. His mind swirls in tandem with his hands, until his arms ache and there's a dull pain thudding in the back of his skull.

He thinks of murmured snatches of a conversation under starlight, the cool bite of a runestone in his hand, a warm hand in his as a chilly breeze sweeps past, the distant hum of a lilting voice, and golden hair like sunlight.

–Do you think she could have loved me–

'Kíli.'

The dwarf blinks, his blades are raised high and pointing directly at–

'Fíli,' he greets his brother, and slowly lowers his weapons. 'What are you doing here?'

'Looking for you,' Fíli shrugs. Kíli snorts, and shakes his head in disbelief. His brother is unamused, 'What?'

'You have been avoiding me for weeks, and now you decide you want to look for me pah–' Kíli stares up at the ceiling, wondering if stupidity runs through Durin's Folk or if it is just his family that seem to suffer from this affliction.

'Kíli–'

He narrows his eyes on his brother, 'Why, after weeks of silence and anger and frustration and being your punching bag, have you decided–oh. Of course.'

'Kíli, you are being ridiculous–'

'It's because of her, right?' Kíli thrusts a dagger in the direction of the open door. 'Because of what happened in Mirkwood? You are scared.'

Fíli's face hardens. There's a steely glint in his eye as he steps closer, standing taller, 'I am the heir to Erebor, I am not scared of anything.'

'Then you are a fool,' Kíli states. He sheathes his blades and reaches for his clothes. He's a few paces away when there's a thwip next to his ear. An arrow lodges itself into the wall, inches from his face. Kíli turns.

Fíli now stands on the raised platform, a bow in his hand and breathing heavily. His expression is full of fury.

'Do not walk away from me, little brother.'

Kíli shakes his head, a strange mix of outrage and disbelief thrumming through him. He continues to move–when a loud cry comes from behind. He turns, raising his blade in just enough time to meet Fíli's. There's an awful clang as the metal shrieks against one another.

Fíli is pushed back a few paces from the force of the blow, but it doesn't slow him. In a flash he moves again, giving Kíli just enough time to dodge the oncoming blow.

'What, in Mahal's name, are you doing?'

'Fight me, brother,' Fíli taunts with a sharp smirk, 'unless you're scared.'

A blade comes down in a wide arc, metal gleaming in the dim starlight; Kíli catches it effortlessly, their weapons glancing off each other and giving him enough time to try and sweep Fíli's feet out from under him. His brother is too quick, dodging the arc of his leg, pausing just long enough to alter his trajectory so he can slice forward.

Kíli avoids the sharp edge of his brother's dagger, taking one step back before pushing forward two steps.

'Fíli, you are being foolish.'

'No,' Fíli grunts, catching his dagger in one strong movement and sweeping it off course, 'I am being careful.'

'Careful is what you call it?' Kíli laughs mirthlessly. Duck, sweep, attempt to disarm, fail. Again. Duck, sweep, attempt to disarm, fail. 'Mooning over some Hobbit lass you left behind to mope across Middle Earth?'

'I am not moping,' Fíli's words come through clenched teeth. 'This has nothing to do with Dora.'

'So Dora is her name,' Kíli chirps, jumping as Fíli sweeps at his legs with one of his daggers. 'The lass with eyes like starlight.'

'Do not talk of things you know nothing about.'

'Ever since we left the Shire, you have been peevish,' Kíli snaps, 'If you regret leaving so much, you should have stayed there. You're making everyone miserable, even Uncle!'

Fíli falters, his face scrunching, 'Wait, no, I–'

Kíli pushes his advantage, noting how his brother's arms tremble as their blades crash against each other. He pushes forward, using the power of the blow to force Fíli to his knees, 'Even now, you're picking yet another fight with me!'

'Kíli, I never meant–'

Kíli twists his wrist, the same motion Billa taught him a hundred times over, and watches with a sick satisfaction as his brother's blade goes skittering across the stone floor. Fíli's eyes widen as he feels cold metal against his throat. Kíli meets his gaze, their chests heaving.

'Go home, Fíli.'

Kíli holds the blade for a moment, and then slowly pulls back, allowing his brother's second blade to clatter uselessly to the ground. He stands, wipes the sweat from his brow and turns back to the door. A crowd has formed in the entryway, including a solemn looking Dwalin. The dwarven warrior shakes his head, disapproving.

Kíli ignores him, striding for the exit.

'You're right.'

He halts mid-step as the quiet words drift to him. Fíli continues with a wheeze, 'I am scared. Scared of losing you.'

He glances at Fíli over his shoulder but doesn't move, 'Then you are a fool.'

'Perhaps,' His brother's head hangs low, 'Perhaps I am a fool. But only because every time I close my eyes I see your death.'

Kíli freezes, and his chest tightens.

'You've seen them, haven't you? The dreams?' Fíli continues, 'I can't sleep without seeing you fall at the hands of an orc. Your body in the snow and her crying while you…you…'

Kíli's body goes cold. How did Fíli know that? Had he seen–

–suffocating. The cold bites into his bare skin as his lungs gurgle, his chest spasming, his mind howling at him, painpainpain. If he turns his head, he'll see her, she'll be safe, shellbesafeshellbesafe–

He blinks away from the remnants of his dreams, and turns fully to face his brother. Fíli has sat up, and is staring listlessly at his hands, 'Seeing her made it real. I wasn't there to save you, I wasn't there.'

Kíli closes his eyes, panic fluttering through his chest.

'It won't happen.' His words sound hollow even to his own ears.

'How do you know?'

He opens his eyes, 'Because I made a promise. And this time, nothing will stop me from keeping it.'

He shuffles forward, reaching out an arm to his brother. Fíli glances up, his eyes glimmering. Kíli nods at him, pushing his open palm closer until finally, his brother grasps it. He hauls Fíli into his arms, enveloping him tightly in his embrace.

'You're an idiot.'

Fíli snorts, clapping him on the back, 'I am sorry.'

Kíli shrugs as he pulls back to look his older brother in the eye. The worry is still there, but he seems calmer, almost more at peace, 'I am not the one you have to apologise to.'

'Uncle will not be pleased,' Fíli grimaces.

'No,' Kíli confirms. 'He gave us both a choice, and your behaviour has made him think you regret making yours.'

His brother winces, rubbing an awkward hand across the back of his head, 'I'll fix it.'

'You better,' Kíli warns lowly. They stand in silence, the only sound the murmurs of the dissipating crowd at their backs. 'So, Dora, huh?'

'Out of everything we just spoke about, that's the thing you want to focus on?'

Kíli laughs, his hands on his hips, 'Would you rather I asked you about the dreams?'

His face instantly darkens, 'No.'

'That's what I thought.'

'Besides,' Fíli's gaze flickers past his shoulder, 'I don't think I should be the first one you talk to about them.'

Kíli turns, following his brother's gaze until it lands on–her. Tauriel stands in the doorway, looming over Dwalin with a cautious look. Fíli claps him on the shoulder, and gestures to Dwalin, 'We'll leave you two in peace.'

'Brother?'

Fíli pauses to glance back and he smiles, 'If you want to talk later, you know where to find me. If we can scheme two oblivious idiots into admitting their feelings, we can surely avoid death.'

His brother laughs and shakes his head, 'Talk to your lady first, brother.'

The two dwarves depart, Fíli leaning on Dwalin. He tries not to wince at the sight of his brother's limp, it was Fíli's own fault after all, but maybe he should watch how much power he puts behind those blows.

His gaze slips back to Tauriel. She hesitates in the doorway, wringing her hands and looking uncertain. He takes her in; the warm lamp behind her sets her hair ablaze, creating a fiery halo around her face and warming her skin.

–I always thought it a cold light, remote and far away–

As he stares, she straightens, pulling her shoulders back and meeting his gaze head on, like the warrior his mind whispers to him that she is. His breath stutters in his chest.

He has never seen anything more beautiful.

'I am sorry for startling you,' her voice is quiet, but it carries strength. Her gaze does not waver, 'But I will not apologise for my behaviour.'

He smirks, taking a step closer, 'I would not expect you to, amrâlimê.'

Her eyes snap up, at once hopeful and wary, 'I don't know what that means.'

Kíli's smirk grows, his chest warming, a feeling he has only felt once before. He holds out a hand, palm up, and says, 'I think you do.'

For a second, all is still. Tauriel stares at the runestone that sits on his palm, offered out towards her, then her gaze lifts, eyes wet. His smile softens as she reaches out for the stone, placing her hand gently in his.

He exhales as her skin brushes against his, warm and solid and real. Something eases within him, gentle and quiet.

Tension crackles between them. After a moment, he squeezes her hand, pulls her closer until there are a few inches between them. Tauriel gasps, his grin turns sharp and anticipation thrums through his veins.

'So,' he closes the distance between their faces, until he can feel her breath against his mouth, 'tell me, Captain of the Guard, do you think she could have loved me?

Her smile is soft, her hand resting against his cheek as she leans in. Her next word is a murmur against his lips, 'Yes.'

Then, for the first time in this life and the one before, Kíli kisses his One. Her mouth is tentative at first, shy, until his greedy fingers slip unbidden into her hair; the auburn locks entwining around his fingers like silk. He has never felt anything so soft.

Her kiss grows more insistent, her body closing the final gap between them until they are firmly pressed together. As Kíli loses himself in her soft touches, her quiet murmurs, he thinks, for the first time he is exactly where he needs to be and he knows, somewhere deep inside him that greedy, selfish part of him avows.

Smaug be damned, he would not be letting go of his starlight ever again.

...

A/N: *peers around the door to the Elvenking's halls* SOOO, everyone good? Are feet kicked, and readers tickled?

I was going to sit on this chapter for a bit longer but it seemed mean sooo here it is. It's something I've agonised a lot over-I never planned to focus on Kili and Tauriel at all, in fact I was going to go more of the book route actually, but these two grabbed me and I just couldn't leave them behind. I know it's very 0 to 60 in 3.5, but they've been waiting a lifetime, and I figured why not give them the happy ending they deserved.

ANYHOO, hope you enjoyed!

Next time: Fort's scheming comes to fruition in a lot of ways he does not expect.