Listen. Liiiiiiiisten. So I skipped over a lot of serious and difficult implications between this couple because, as stated, this was meant to be a pretty short ficlet (17,000 words later...). I wanted to make this relatively light, sweet, and happy –if you're looking for something that goes a little more (okay, maybe alottle more) in depth, check out my fic 'The Heir Apparent'. That said, it was such a joy to write this and I am so glad everyone seemed to enjoy it so much! You're all so lovely. Catch you on the flip side, dudes.

(And this chapter, as well as those before it, are dedicated to the lovely Irrel.)

Part Three: In Which Kili Makes His Choice

Several days later -with Kíli still floating at least a foot off the ground- came the farewell celebration for the Elves as they made to depart back to their homeland. It might have dampened his spirits if he wasn't so sure that Tauriel would stay behind. They were promised, after all.

He dressed carefully and more meticulously than he ever had in his life, spending far more time than he ever would have admitted to anyone trying to find the perfect ensemble and feeling woefully inadequate. Fíli found him straightening his tunic in the looking glass .Kíli caught his gaze in the muted reflection, and his older brother's eyes were wary and deeply troubled. Guilt washed over him as he remembered the scene over breakfast with shame.

"Kíli we need to talk…"

"I'm sorry brother," Kíli interrupted, walking toward him and clasping his arm in his. "I should not have spoken to you as I did. Do you forgive me?"

Fíli hesitated before smiling slightly, "Of course, but that's not why I came."

Kíli nodded and Fíli motioned toward the chairs near his hearth. They had to clear away some of the mess –including a number of daggers, arrows, dirty tunics and crumbled scrolls- but they managed.

"Listen, Kee, we have to talk about, well about whatever is going on with you and the Elf maiden."

Kíli fought down a wave of irritation, "There's nothing to talk about-"

"Would you just listen for once Kíli," his brother snapped, "Uncle is suspicious and becoming angry."

Kíli scowled at his boots, "So? Let him be angry."

Fíli sighed in exasperation, "You must end this dalliance Kíli, it is straining the peace talks-"

"It's not a dalliance," he murmured, stunning his brother into silence. "I-" he faltered, his hands trembling and he clenched at his trousers to still them. "I think, well I may be in love with her. No, I am in love with her."

Fíli groaned loudly and flopped backward into his chair, "You can't be serious Kíli. Of all the stupid, idiotic things you've ever done-"

"Hey!" Kíli protested, but his brother ignored him.

"Uncle will never agree to it Kíli. Never."

Anger boiled inside him and he rose to pace away from him, "I don't care whether he agrees or not-"

"Kíli she's an Elf, they're immortal, they never die-"

"I know what immortal means Fee," he growled, throwing up his hands in exasperation.

Fíli scowled and stomped over to him, taking him by each shoulder and forcing him to meet him eye to eye. "And what happens when you die someday and leave her behind? Hm? What happens then? You leave her bereft of her people and ours? Would you doom her to that fate?"

Kíli drew in a harsh breath and shook his head stubbornly, "You don't know that. You don't know how we feel about one another-:"

"Do you?" He demanded, shaking him slightly and Kíli shoved him angrily away.

"She makes me feel alive, Fíli!" He bellowed, "Before she came to Erebor everyday blended into the last, I had no purpose, no goals, no drive to do or be anything but my elder brother's lesser shadow," Fíli flinched at this, but he didn't falter. "I didn't ask to feel as I do, but I will not turn my back on it. We deserve the chance to shape our own destinies."

Fíli sighed and ran a shaking hand over his beard, "You are my brother, I want only for your happiness, but this- this is wrong Kíli, surely you know that."

Kíli considered his next words carefully for a moment, pondering what his brother had said. There was truth to his words, but the truth of his heart was louder.

"If love is wrong, Fee, then what do we have left? If we are forced to forsake our hearts then what good are any of us?"

Fíli deflated, his gaze terrible and conflicted before he drew his brother in for a rough hug. "Please see reason, Uncle will banish you, our people will scorn you. Do not do this brother."

Kíli sighed, squeezing his eyes shut against the sudden pain in his heart as he patted sadly at his brother's back, "I know how I feel about her Fee and I am not afraid. I am sorry brother, but it is already too late."

Avia caught him almost as soon as he entered the grand ballroom and it took everything in him not to groan aloud. Chieftain Dain's daughter was a large woman with a face that gave the impression that she'd just eaten something sour, with a personality to match.

"It's lovely to see you again, cousin," Kíli said between clenched teeth, wishing desperately to escape. Fíli might have saved him, but Briala had claimed his attention almost immediately and there was no hope of gaining it back now. Avia was the very last person he wanted to deal with tonight. He'd hoped Dain wouldn't have been able to make it up from the Iron Hills, a fruitless hope, apparently. Everyone knew that the Chieftain's daughter had been after him for years, constantly urging her father to force a match between them. Fortunately Thorin seemed as wary of Avia as he was, but he knew there were many who thought the match a good one.

Avia simpered and batted her eye lashes at him like some sort of deranged deer. "The pleasure is all mine, my Prince," she said huskily and rested a hand possessively on his arm. It took all his self control not to shrug out of it.

"Shall we dance, my lord?" She asked coyly as the music started up, and her hand pressed him toward the open floor where his brother and Briala were already whirling and smiling.

He was saved by blaring trumpets as the Elven party entered the ballroom. Kíli's eyes fell immediately upon blazing hair and vibrant green eyes like a moth to the flame. He felt as though the wind had been knocked from his lungs. She was always beautiful, even in her worn, mussed training gear with her hair wild, but tonight she looked as lovely as the moon itself, outshining even the Arkenstone. Soft layers of light green silk and gauze flowed from pale, partially bared shoulders, forming to waist and hip and fluttering gracefully over slippered feet. Her hair hung loose and curling to her waist; devoid of braid or artifice, and the necklace he'd given her sparkled against her elegant throat.

In that moment Kíli knew he was lost. He knew that, as her eyes searched and found his, he would give up his station, all his many privileges, and his very home to be with her. If she asked it of him, he would travel to the very ends of Middle-Earth and beyond if only she would have him.

He was halfway across the room before he realized what was happening, vaguely aware of Avia's angry mutterings, and caring not at all.

"My Lords," he said, cutting a swift bow. King Thranduil inclined his head, looking faintly amused, while his son merely glared. Kíli ignored him.

He turned to Tauriel, finding it hard to breathe once again. She was even more beautiful up close, her skin and smile radiant, as though she were composed of nothing but light and beauty. He smiled and she smiled in turn and suddenly they were just them again. He took her hand in his and brushed a brief kiss across her knuckles, her answering tremble echoing through him and settling warm and expectant in his belly.

"My lady," he murmured against her skin.

She curtsied, her eyes fluttering shyly away, "Your highness."

The music started and, though the Elven Prince seemed fit to skewer him where he stood and his Uncle was likely glaring daggers from across the hall, he couldn't have possibly cared less. They'd agreed they needed to be careful, secretive, but in that moment he wanted the entire world to know she was his and he hers.

"May I have this dance?" His tone was almost challenging. Is this what you want? It asked. Are you brave enough to take these steps with me?

Her eyes searched his, finding his unspoken question and swallowing heavily. "I would be honored," she said.

Though she was taller, they fit well together. Her hand found his shoulder as his slipped to her waist, fingers reflexively clenching against the seductive warmth of her through the thin cloth. Their free hands clasped and he felt whole again. He'd told Fíli she made him feel alive, but it was more than life he felt. She made him feel eternal, invincible, like he could do anything.

The tune was slow, simple, but he could tell by the way her fingers dug into his shoulder through his tunic that she did not know the steps. He smiled at her encouragingly, his heart racing wildly in his chest.

"Don't worry," he said softly, "Just follow my lead."

She nodded and wet her lip nervously as he guided her into the first movements of the song. Tauriel might not have known the steps, but her natural grace more than compensated for her lack of experience. She was like a living flame in his arms as she spun away and then back again like the sun orbiting around the world with he as the mercurial center. Her eyes never left his.

"This is wrong," she murmured as they turned, her voice quavering a little but her eyes were lit from within.

His heart clenched, "Does it feel wrong to you? Because, to me… nothing has ever felt more right."

He felt her shudder and he drew her closer as the music carried them on. "Oh Kíli," she breathed, "We can never be. Surely you know that-"

"Don't," he said harshly. "Let's not talk of this here, now. Just… dance with me and pretend a moment longer," his tone was pleading.

She gave him a gentle smile, her hand squeezing his shoulder lightly in reassurance, and nodded, "As you wish, but just for a moment longer." Her words held the promise of so much more than a moment. In her eyes he saw all the ages to come.

"What happens if they catch us?" Tauriel asked as they slipped through the wrought iron gate to the Queen's Garden. During a particularly rowdy limerick, performed by none other than a (drunken) Balin, they'd managed to slip away unnoticed. It wouldn't last long, he knew, but it was worth a few moments alone with her.

"Well, first they'll whip us and then likely boil us alive before finally skinning us and using our hides as decoration in the great gallery."

"Oh, ha ha," she muttered.

"Don't worry, I can weasel my way out of, or into anything," he wiggled his brows at her and she rolled her eyes, swatting at him.

They walked further up the path and fell into darkness as they left the light of the hall behind them. She reached for him, finding his hand in the gloom, and their fingers interlocked. The memory of her lips on his was poignant and alluring and he trailed the tips of his fingers up her arm, relishing in her slight gasp and her answering shiver.

"Is it supposed to be so dark?" She asked, slightly breathless and he shook himself.

"Wait here," he murmured and squeezed her hand before feeling his way in the dark. It had been years since he'd come to the Garden, but he knew it like the back of his hand. As a child, it had been his favorite place, hand in hand with his mother and brother, before the Queen had died and the light in his Uncle's eyes had dimmed.

He found the lighting mechanism with little trouble and cranked the handle, grunting with effort as aging spokes ground together. The spark flew and lit the great braziers that lined the entire massive room, racing across the chamber and bringing it to life. He turned and watched as wonder broke across Tauriel's face. She stepped forward as though caught in a dream, her eyes wide and tilted upward as the ceiling sparkled in a near perfect reflection of the night sky. It hurt to look at her, she was so lovely, and he couldn't bear to consider that this might be their last night together. Surely Mahal and the Valar were not so cruel.

He came to her side and she looked down at him with her heart reflected in her eyes. "It's beautiful," she said, awed. He reached out to touch her face, to map the defined line of her cheek bone, across her jaw and over her slightly parted lips.

"I knew you would like it."

She grinned and his hand found hers again as he led her forward. Gold and marble statues lined the pebbled walkway, obscured by vibrant cave lichen but still beautiful. At the center of the 'garden' stood a giant golden statue of Mahal, complete with anvil and hammer. Tauriel stared up at it for a long silent moment, her features thoughtful, as though remembering something.

"There were flowers here once," he muttered absently, "special flowers, with waxy petals that my Uncle brought up from the caves to the far south."

"What was she like, the Queen?" She asked as they continued their walk, passing empty flower beds and worn stone benches.

Kíli thought hard for a moment, "I was barely out of childhood when she died, but I remember her smile and her kindness. I also remember one time in particular, when she was upset at my Uncle over something, that she challenged him in front of the entire court."

Tauriel chuckled, "I doubt King Thorin took that well."

Kíli grinned and shook his head, "According to my mother he turned so red Balin was afraid he'd burst, but, as it turned out, the Queen was right."

"Was your Uncle still angry?"

"Oh yes, he was apparently furious for weeks, but he admitted his fault in front everyone and never once raised his voice."

"He must have really loved her… how did she die?" She asked hesitantly.

Kíli gave her a sad sort of smile as they walked toward a large platform that rested beside the small, placid underground lake. "She died giving birth to my cousin when I was barely in my twenties. Thorin he- well, as I said, he hasn't ever really been the same. Her death, so soon after my grandfather's, made him harder, colder."

Something dark fluttered across her face and her fingers tightening unconsciously in his. He felt a tremor of apprehension creep through him as he drew her up the crumbling stone steps of the platform. The area, which had once been littered with comfortable couches and cushions, was almost completely covered in soft, fragrant lichen. It was dark here, the fire-light further away, almost like true night with the twinkling gems above. Feeling strangely nervous, his palms damp and hot, he drew her down to sit beside him.

"What are you thinking," he asked quietly as she stared out across the water. Her eyes were distant and she sat turned slightly away from him, the folds of her dress stark against the darkness.

"How my life before I met you feels strangely… blurry and indistinct," she said quietly, not looking at him, "like it doesn't really belong to me anymore."

He cleared his throat, "Do… do you regret it… us I mean?" He nearly choked on the words, suddenly certain that he didn't really want her answer.

She turned to him at last, a wistful smile on her face that was tempered slightly by a tinge of sadness. Without a word she reached out to touch him, her fingers trailing fire along his cheeks and jaw. "My people don't have beards," she murmured and he felt heat crawl up his neck.

"Does it bother you?" He asked, voice hoarse.

She shook her head slightly, "No, I like it. Tis rough… yet soft. Like you." Her smile was mischievous as her hand continued on its journey, passing along the ridge of his throat and pausing at the thundering pulse in his neck. He shuddered, heat pooling in his belly as his breath stuttered in his chest. The questing digits passed on into his hair, rubbing deliciously along his scalp until his whole body tingled, every nerve on end as he clenched his fists at his sides. Eventually her fingers found the spot where she'd woven their hidden promise and, with hooded eyes, she unwound the braid from beneath his circlet.

"I could never regret you, Kíli."

Without consciously deciding to, he shifted forward so that he knelt above her and took her face in his hands. He drank in the sight of her -eyes dark and half lidded, lips slightly parted and cheeks flushed- before he kissed her, long and deep. Her hands slid down his back as a soft moan slipped from her mouth and into his, letting him taste her pleasure, her desire for him. Feeling as though he were drowning, he let his hands smooth over the sides of her neck and across her bared shoulders, sure that he would go mad with wanting her.

Her hands slipped up and around, coursing slowly, deliciously over his stomach, and reaching for the laces of his doublet. Slightly disoriented, he pulled away to watch her lithe fingers slip the silvered thread slowly, purposefully free.

"Tauriel," he half groaned in protest as her fingers dipped down and through the gaps in his shirt, pressing against the bare flesh of his chest.

"Shh," she murmured and leaned forward to kiss the spot her fingers had branded as he let a harsh breath out through his nose. His fingers rose to card through her hair and he felt the promise braid within, carefully coiled and pinned against her scalp. He pulled it free as her mouth made a path up his chest and over his throat.

"No regrets," she murmured into his skin and slid his doublet off his shoulders.

Sometime later, when their breathing had become slow and languid, Kíli turned slightly onto his side and pressed a kiss to a thin scar just above her left breast. It took all his self-control not to linger.

"You have more scars than I do," he remarked as Tauriel languorously ran her fingers through his hair.

"Hmmm," she hummed and he shifted up so that her head rested in the hollow of his shoulder, her eyes staring up at him from beneath her lashes. Her hair was mussed, her cheeks still flushed, and her lips slightly swollen. Kíli had to bite down on his lip to keep from groaning aloud. Just when he thought she couldn't be more beautiful, more perfect, she proved him wrong.

"Training exercises mostly. I think that one was gifted to me by a particularly clumsy recruit."

He ducked his head and rubbed his thumb against another line near her hip.

"Orc raid," she muttered into his neck as she placed a wet kiss there, her hand ghosting over a large scar that crested over his chest and down toward his navel. "Another prank gone wrong?" She teased and he chuckled, but it faded as memory filled its place.

She must have seen something in his eyes because her movement stilled, "What is it?"

He shook his head, unable to meet her eye as he lightly brushed her hair over her shoulder. "I, well, it happened the day my father died."

"Oh, Kíli," she breathed, "I'm so sorry I didn't know-"

"Hush love," he said, kissing her lightly into stillness. "Don't apologize."

There was a moment of silence as she settled her head against his chest and he let his cheek rest against her hair. They should have been back ages ago, they're absence would have most certainly been noticed by now, but he found he couldn't move. In fact, he was fairly certain that he never wanted to move again, that he could be perfectly happy resting naked on his tunic with his belt digging into the small of his back with her draped over him forever.

"We were out on a hunting trip, Fíli, my father and I," he found himself saying as she traced nonsensical patterns into the skin of his chest and stomach, quietly fascinated by the hair there.

"It was only my third trip but, as usual, I thought I knew everything," he attempted to sound unaffected but he knew he had failed when she snuggled up closer to him.

"We were tracking a steer and I was far ahead, too far ahead, determined to get the kill and taunt Fíli with it." He wet his lips, finding that the memory was more painful than usual, that something about her nearness seemed to have made him raw, emotional, as though she'd peeled back several layers of his skin. "The Warg den was well hidden and I didn't see the dame until she was nearly upon me. I remember screaming, first my brother's name and then my father's, as she took a swipe at me. I managed to leap back enough to save my life but I've the scar to prove how near a thing that was. My-" He took a shaky breath, feeling foolish, but she was rubbing soothing hands against his skin, silently encouraging him as he had once encouraged her. "My father saved me, stabbed the beast in her chest, but not before she took a bite at his side. Fíli and I… we carried him home and he died three days later."

She cooed at him and whispered words of comfort to him in the language of her people, some of which he understood and other's he did not, but their intent was clear enough. "It was a long time ago," he muttered, blinking back tears.

"Some wounds never heal, meleth," she said softly then bent to kiss the scar, "Some wounds we carry all our lives."

He drew her up and kissed her, pouring all his gratitude and love into the press of his lips and the sweep of his tongue.

"We should get back," he said when they broke apart.

"Yes," she agreed reluctantly.

They helped each other dress, hands lingering so that it took much longer than necessary. He made to help her tuck her promise braid back into its coil but she reached a hand out to stop him.

"There is no going back now, meleth, perhaps the time for secrets is over?"

He swallowed, fear and pleasure clashing within him, "If you're ready, I'm ready."

"Whatever happens Kíli, I want you to know that my time with you has been the happiest in all my life."

He smirked a little, "Well, even though you've got a few hundred years on me, I feel exactly the same."

She chuckled lightly then bent to place a kiss on his head before settling his crown back in its place. Somehow, it almost felt as though she was saying goodbye.

Skittering through the halls and giggling like wicked children, they weren't prepared for what awaited them as they ducked around a corner.

Kíli slammed to a halt and Tauriel stumbled into him from behind, nearly sending them both flat on their faces before his King and hers. Legolas stood at his father's side, murder in his eyes and a deep knowing look. His mother hung off his Uncle's arm with an expression of utter bafflement on her face while Fíli stood anxiously in the back ground, clearly upset.

"I did not want to believe this was true," Thorin said quietly, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Uncle, I-" He started to say and then stopped, completely at a loss. He hadn't expected they'd have to reveal their relationship quite so… publicly.

"Tell me that you have not promised yourself to this… this Elf, nephew," his Uncle spat, red fury blossoming in his face. King Thranduil looked more amused than anything, something deep and secretive swimming in his eyes as he surveyed them.

He took a breath and then another as Tauriel's fingers tightened in his and she moved to stand at his side. She gave him courage.

"It… is true Uncle, we are promised," he said as firmly as he could. It felt as though a weight had been lifted from his chest and his confidence grew. This was right, he knew it without a shadow of a doubt.

Fury burned hot and fast in his Uncle's eyes."You great fool," he spat viciously, "Don't you understand what you've done." The King shrugged out of his sister's grasp and thundered toward him. Kíli held his ground, though it took all his will and self control, Tauriel's hand like an anchor in the storm. He had never seen his uncle so furious.

"You are a son of Durin! In line for the throne behind your brother, how could you do this? How could you be so selfish!"

"Selfish!" Kíli bellowed, his self restraint snapping in an instant. "Selfish is sitting holed up in our mountain counting our coins and jewels while the rest of the world slowly slips into darkness. Selfish is turning a blind eye to the world and behaving as though we're no longer a part of it. You accuse me of being selfish while you are too blinded by your own grief and hatred to think of anyone or anything outside the mountain-"

The blow came hard and fast and Kíli's vision blurred as he clutched his cheek in shock. He lost his grip on Tauriel's hand, who breathed out a shocked gasp. Tasting blood, he licked his lip and gathered himself, staring his Uncle down.

"Thorin!" Dís cried, her voice brimming with anger and fear as her brother advanced again. In that moment Tauriel stepped between them, her eyes blazing and full of unshed tears.

"Enough, my lord," she said, voice unsteady, "I will leave."

Kíli felt his lungs collapse in his chest. "What?" he demanded, shaking his head slightly.

She turned to him, her face a mask of pain and sadness, "These are your people, meleth, I will not let you forsake them for me."

"Tauriel, no," he insisted, his heart a painful lump within his breast, dulling the ache in his jaw until it was all but gone.

A tear slid down her cheek. "No regrets, Kíli... but this has always been little more than a beautiful dream. You've your duties here, and I have mine. I would not see you banished from your homeland, from your family, for me."

He gripped her hand fiercely in his, "I would give it all and more for you."

Her smile was heartbreaking as she said, "I know you would, I know that. But how can I claim to love you if I take you from everyone and everything you hold dear? No, it… it is better this way."

She slipped her hand from his and something bright and warm died in his chest.

"Tauriel," Legolas said, reminding Kíli they were not alone as he blinked blurrily about him. Everything felt surreal, as though he were looking at the rest of the world through several inches of water. "Come," the Elven Prince commanded, his eyes furious and filled with a sharp undercurrent of hurt and betrayal. Kili suspected his heart was not the only one to have been broken this night.

Tauriel leaned forward, the hall utterly silent as she kissed his brow and whispered her love for him against his skin. Then she was gone, following her Prince down the hall at a fast walk, her shoulders slumped in defeat. King Thranduil paused briefly, glancing back at him as something curious and contemplative lingered in his eyes, before he too swept away.

"Tauriel!" Kili bellowed and made to follow after her. His Uncle caught him in a vice like grip.

"You've done enough damage as it is, do not make it worse," Thorin growled. "You are dismissed, nephew, and we will be having a very long talk once the Elves have gone."

Kíli yanked his arm from his Uncle's grasp, and fixed him with a hard stare. "I will never forgive you for this," he said tonelessly, and without a backward glance he turned and disappeared down the hall, ignoring his mother as she called after him.

His Uncle had all but forbidden him to come to the sendoff, but Kíli would risk any amount of his displeasure to see her, if only one last time. He arrived just as they were departing, slipping in past Dwalin and Balin. His Uncle caught sight of him almost immediately and his glare would have been enough to fell dragons. But he took a breath and called her name, rushing forward and dodging his brother's reaching grasp.

Tauriel met his gaze and it was filled with such an infinite sadness and longing that he would have done anything, climbed any mountain, completed any feat, if only to see her smile again. She shook her head, eyes pleading with him not to make this harder for her than it already was and turned away, following after her King without a word.

With a low growl, Kíli stepped after her.

"Kíli," his Uncle warned, but he ignored him as he strode forward and caught Tauriel's wrist. She turned slowly, reluctantly, and tears swam in her eyes.

He pressed something into her hand and she blinked down in surprise at the stone there. She ran a finger across the runes he'd carved and shook her head.

"What-"

"It's a promise, take it, and know that I will come for you." His voice broached no room for discussion. He'd never been surer of anything in all his life. He'd spent the entire long night alone in the Garden planning and plotting, knowing there was no chance he could let her go.

"Kíli," she half groaned, "They will never allow it-"

"I don't care what they will allow, I love you and I will not rest until we can be together."

She gasped at his words even as her cheeks flushed and her eyes warmed. He closed her fingers around the rune stone and, feeling particularly bold and reckless, tugged her down to place a quick but heated kiss on her lips.

"Whatever it takes Tauriel," he murmured as they parted to a series of horrified gasps.

She sniffed and smiled as something in her gave way and opened up. "Whatever it takes," she agreed and then, with a final backward glance, departed.

"Well," Fíli said behind him with forced casualness, "That was certainly revealing."

"Yes, well, I suppose we'll have to start making arrangements." His mother said a moment later and Kíli spun around in shock. Thorin looked down at his sister as though she'd grown a second head.

"You can't be serious-" Thorin began but his sister cut him off, her eyes glinting steel.

"Their bond could be the bridge between our people, Thorin," she said.

"Yes but, it's never been done-"

"How do we know? In the ages past our peoples existed in peace and friendship, who is to say it has not happened before?"

"Surely we would have heard some mention-"

"Would we?" Dís challenged, clearly not to be swayed. "Much of our ancient knowledge was lost in Khazad-dûm and further buried by old, antiquated prejudices."

Thorin shook his head stubbornly, "I won't hear of it. No Prince of Durin is going to marry some, some Woodland fairy."

Kíli ground his teeth, "Then I am a Prince no longer." Fíli turned to him with a strangled gasp but he plowed on.

"I will relinquish my title, my holdings, and all my possessions. If they come at the price of my heart than I do not want them."

Thorin glared, "Now listen here boy-"

"I am not a boy, Uncle," he snapped, "I am a dwarf grown and I know the callings of my heart as well as any. If you will not consent to our union than I will leave."

Silence fell as Thorin attempted to glare him straight into the ground, but Kíli would not be cowed, he meant every single word. He would leave tonight, taking what he could, and beg her to come with him. They could travel north, to the woods outside the Blue Mountains. He would build her a lovely cabin and they could make a simple, peaceful life for themselves-

"King Thranduil has already offered her hand," Thorin said, deflating visibly.

"W-what?" Kíli stuttered, sure he'd misheard him.

"He came to me after the... incident in the hall and insisted that it would be a fruitful and blessed union." He admitted and Dís glared at him, looking very like she wanted to push him from the bridge.

"So," Fíli remarked, rocking awkwardly back and forth on his feet. "A double wedding then?"

Thorin shot him a glare, "What do you-"

Fíli coughed and flushed and Briala smiled down at her feet as understanding dawned on their Uncle's face. He looked as though Durin himself had suddenly appeared and handed him a flagon of ale and patted him on the back.

"Truly," he demanded, looking to his daughter who raised her head and nodded once with a brilliant and joyful smile on her face. Suddenly the promise braid hanging across her right shoulder was very obvious.

"Ha!" Thorin bellowed and swept them both up in a crushing hug. Kíli flinched in sympathy as Fíli's face recoiled briefly in pain. Their Uncle pulled back and he kissed them both on the cheek, grinning from ear to ear.

Fíli glanced his brother's direction and took a deep breath, pulling himself to his full height. "I have but one request Uncle," he looked down at his intended who took his hand in hers. "We both do," Briala insisted, doing a fair imitation of her Aunt's penetrating stare.

"You must allow Kíli and Tauriel to wed, it would be good for our people Uncle and, well, he is my brother and your nephew and surely he deserves happiness." Kíli had never loved his brother more than in that moment and, perhaps for the first time, he began to comprehend that someday his elder brother would be King. He knew in his heart that he would be a great one.

Thorin's jaw clenched for a moment, his eyes burning like dragon fire, before he sighed and his shoulders sagged. He turned to Kíli, "You are sure this is what you want? It will not be easy for your Elf maid to live amongst us and there are many who will be offended by the union-"

"You mean Dain?" Dís scoffed with a roll of her eyes, "His daughter is a conniving little harlot, let her screech and wail."

"Yes," Thorin growled, "But she is not the only one who will 'screech and wail.' This union will shake the entire kingdom and I will not allow it unless I am certain you mean to see it through."

Kíli took a breath and bowed low, "I have never been surer of anything in my life Uncle, I will do whatever I must to prove it to you."

Thorin rubbed a hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose and muttering something under his breath. "Very well, nephew, I give you my blessing."

There was a long, shocked pause before Kíli burst forward and caught his Uncle in a fierce hug. "Thank you Uncle, thank you," he breathed, his relief and happiness so acute that he shook.

Thorin sighed and patted him lightly on the back, "Yes well, I'm sure I'll regret it, just see that you take your duties a little more seriously from now on, hum?"

"Yes Uncle," Kíli said, "Anything. Thank you."

Thorin grunted and pulled back, raising a brow at him with something suspiciously like a smirk playing along his lips. "Well?"

"Well what?" He wondered, so pleased he could barely form two thoughts together.

"Aren't you going to go retrieve your betrothed?"

Kíli beamed and let a surprised bark of laughter. "Thank you Uncle, thank you," he said again, incapable of saying anything else.

Thorin rolled his eyes, "Off with you before I change my mind."

Kíli turned and hugged his brother; they touched heads lightly as he murmured his gratitude. "You would have done the same for me," Fíli said wirily.

"A thousand times over," he agreed and then swept his new sister-to-be into his arms and swung her around. Briala squealed with laughter and surprise as he bent to plant a sloppy kiss on her cheek while Fíli looked on in exasperated amusement.

Lastly he stepped to his mother, much more subdued, and she kissed his forehead, her eyes warm and full of her love for him. "Go my reckless, incorrigible son. I am proud of you."

"Thank you mother," he said, kissing her cheek and then all but ran down the steps and into the hall below, yelling for a pony to be brought immediately.

He'd never ridden so fast or hard in his life, but he needn't have, because she came barreling toward him halfway to Dale.

They both reigned in and her face had a stricken quality to it that made his heart pound fearfully in his breast. He all but leapt from the saddle as he rushed to her side while she dismounted.

"What is it, what's happened?" He demanded, his mind racing.

"Let's go," she said earnestly and took his hands in hers, eyes desperate and wild. "We can go north, or even south if you'd like, I don't care, but let's go. I- I can't bear to be parted from you. I won't be. I've had enough loss for several lifetimes and I will suffer no more if I can help it."

Understanding dawned and he thought that if Mahal struck him dead right then and there he could have died happily. A smile broke across his face and he reached out to touch her face gently. She shook him away impatiently with a shaky breath.

"We haven't time, we must go now- wait, where were you headed, is everything well? Did your Uncle punish you!?" She asked, growing increasingly more distressed.

His grin was slow and devious as he said, "Well, some might consider it a punishment, perhaps."

She frowned at him in confusion, "What? I don't understand… he hasn't banished you has he?" She gasped." Valar, Kíli I am so sorry, I-"

"Amralime," he muttered affectionately, chuckling and shaking his head ruefully. "He's given us his blessing."

"I think if we ride hard we can make the Gray Mountains in three days and follow the rivers- wait, what did you say?" Her face flushed as disbelief clouded her features.

He took her face in his hands and pulled her too him, kissing her soundly and purposefully, as though they had all the time in the world. When he pulled away her eyes were glassy and bemused.

"I'll have a new set of rooms commissioned," he said, "with a wide balcony and a garden, unless you'd rather live among your people, but I get the feeling your Prince doesn't like me overly much-"

"King Thorin truly gave his blessing?" She interrupted.

He gave her a slow smile as he trailed his hand down her arms to take her hands in his once more, "Aye, and with your King's permission, apparently. According to my Uncle, King Thranduil offered up your hand in marriage."

She shook her head in disbelief, "I thought it strange that he didn't try to impede my departure…" She swallowed thickly. "I- I don't know what to say."

"I don't mean to pressure you," he said lightly, "but perhaps a 'yes Kíli I would love to marry you and spend the rest of my days by your side' might be appropriate."

She laughed then and it was a sound of pure joy that carried through the valley and filled him body and soul. "Yes," she said without hesitation. "Yes, Prince Kíli, I will marry you."

He pulled her down for a long, heated kiss, the dust of the road swirling around them and their horses nickering impatiently. She pulled back, her breath whispering hot and moist across his lips, "On one condition, however."

"Name it," he said, eager and very foolish.

"Sooooo," Kíli said after what was likely the longest, most uncomfortable silence of his life.

"Indeed," Legolas replied, arms crossed moodily over his chest. He almost appeared to be pouting.

Outside they could hear the lively music of the celebration -his betrothal celebration, in fact. They had been forbidden to leave the cramped little room, however, until they had come to terms, on pain of a quick and terrible death.

"I don't like you much," Kíli said matter-of-factly, bracing his elbows on the small table between them.

"And I'm sure I like you even less," the Elven Prince said dryly.

"And there's really no way we're coming out of this room as friends."

"It seems highly unlikely."

"But if we don't get along, Tauriel will be upset," Kíli reminded him.

Legolas nodded grimly, "That appears to be the issue."

"And we both love her, apparently," Kíli said, barely keeping the growl from his voice.

Legolas just narrowed his eyes, but his cheeks darkened a little.

"So I see only two options."

"Which are?"

"The first, and by far my favorite, -we fight to the death," he said, and the Elf's eyes brightened measurably. "Unfortunately the survivor of said battle would have to live with her ire for the rest of their lives. And some of us have much longer lives than others."

Legolas grunted begrudgingly, looking a little too disappointed for Kíli's liking. He wouldn't say he was afraid of the Elf Prince, precisely; it was more that he was acutely aware of the fact that one of them had had thousands of years to practice their combat skills… and one of them had not.

"Or, we could just pretend."

Legoals raised an imperious brow. "Pretend?"

Kíli nodded enthusiastically. "Aye, pretend. Act like we get on, you know, just when Tauriel's about."

"And you don't think she'll see through that?"

Kíli smirked and his eyes were challenging, "I can pull it off if you can elf."

Legolas's eyes narrowed until they were bare slits. "You're on, dwarf."

Looking more radiant than he'd ever seen her, Tauriel descended upon him in a rush of silk and sweet smelling hair. Taking his face between her hands, she kissed him brazenly before all those gathered. Kíli could have sworn he saw Orí spit wine into his brother's face from the corner of his eye, and he had a sneaking suspicion that Thorin's glass had actually shattered in his clenched fist. He really couldn't have cared less.

"I am so pleased you and Prince Legolas were able to see past your differences," she gushed, near bursting with pleasure as she drew away. He kept his hands on her hips, drawing her close again. If they were going to cause a terrible scandal, he might as well make it worth it.

"Anything for you," he said seriously, with his most convincing smile.

She made a soft noise of happiness and drew him up into a tight hug. Over her shoulder, through the thick curtain of her hair, he saw Legolas scowling at him over the brim of his wine glass. Still smiling, Kíli shot him a rude gesture which the Elf Prince kindly returned.

Everything was perfect.

A/N: Well, there you have it. I hope everyone enjoyed this work and sorry if it left anyone with a tooth ache, I tried guys, I tried. -flails-.