#at least he's causing less trouble than ''''Lindir'''' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eloquated · 3 years

Text

Kili & Elladan, @murkhith

All was not quiet in the Last Homely House, east of the sea. From the high walls, Elladan could see the dark procession of dwarves as they wound along the side of the valley. Even if they rode hard, the newcomers would arrive at the front doors before they could greet them– though not by much, he reckoned.

“Dwarves, in our valley!” Elrohir groused beside his twin, pinch mouthed and doubting, “Who knows what trouble they bring!”

“Or what trouble they seek to escape.” Elladan countered, and pressed his heels to his horse’s flanks, guiding her back towards their party, “They wouldn’t venture here if they thought they had other options. Hear them out, otorno. They may have come with good stories.”

That evening came with music and feasting– and the best seats in the house for eavesdropping on both his father’s solemn conversation with Mithrandir and the gruff Dwarf lord, and his companions chatter among themselves, were at the front of the balcony with the musicians.

Individually, the sons of Elrond didn’t attract as much attention– they were fine featured and dark haired, but so were many of their brethren. Together, people tended to pay them more mind– either from the novelty of their symmetry, or because they’d heard rumours of the elflord’s mischievous heirs!

From his seat, Elladan watched as the mood of the stately meal began to change. One of the Dwarves (a man with a very jaunty hat indeed!) leapt up onto the table, and Elladan could see the looks of horror on Lindir and Vendethiel’s faces at the raucousness of it all.

Elladan bit his tongue to bury a laugh, but it wasn’t in his nature to hide his levity– and by the end of the first verse, despite a sharp and despairing look from Lindir, Elladan was laughing and tapping his foot to the melody.

“I can never remember, good sir, if the next verse is the little dog or the hornéd cow.”

“Elladan!” Hissed the elfmaid beside him, sharp and quiet, “You’ll only encourage him!”

Elladan ignored her warning, and flashed the Dwarves a grin, “I should thank you for bringing such lively music to our evening meal!”

...

To say the elves were a bore would have been an understatement. Even if they had been welcomed to the kingdom, Kili saw the glances that the elves kept throwing at them; some curious but most distrusting and suffering, as if they couldn’t wait to get rid of the company already. He doubted they would have been allowed to stay without Thorin and the whole royal respect thing.

Not that he knew too much about those.

But Mahal was he bored out of his mind, and the leaf on his plate seemed more suspicious the more he stared at it. Surely it was poisoned or would taste absolutely vile at least. They weren’t rabbits damnit, they needed more than some leaves to keep their stomach filled. And the music, Mahal help him the music. It was dreadful and he felt as if he was taking part in someone’s funeral.

Luckily it seemed like he wasn’t the only one thinking the same way, as Bofur soon jumped up and started singing a very known dinking song much to the elves dismay. The dwarves, however, were living for it. Their voices rose in volume and some of them started clapping and laughing, some even rising up to spin around the table.

The sudden words to his left caused Kili to look up, eyebrow rising in surprise at the mischievous gaze he was met with. Well well, it seemed like the evening had taken an unexpected but pleasant turn. Perhaps not every elf acted like a warg had crawled up their arse.

“It’s about the horned cow,” Kili snickered, turning his full attention towards the elf. “I’m not sure your fellow mates would agree with you though, it seems as if they would rather be anywhere else than here.”

...

The silence that followed the short exchange was almost deafening. Both Elves and Dwarves alike looked slowly from Elladan to Kili, united for a single moment in their baffled confusion. There had been animosity between the two races for longer than anyone could remember; and even now, when days were meant to be peaceful, there was suspicion and doubt.

Elves did not laugh at the jokes of Dwarves.

And Dwarves did not find amusement in the humour of Elves.

That was simply the way things had always been.

“Of course!” Elladan chimed in return, “They also keep a hornéd cow

as proud as any queen. It’s been an age since I’ve heard it, and longer since I’ve heard it sung so well. Your minstrel– I’m sorry good sir, I didn’t hear your name– has a rare talent!” Elladan’s attention flickered to Bofur only long enough to offer him a brief and smiling nod.

From the corner of his eye, he could see the sidelong glances he was receiving from the table in the corner.

It didn’t take elf eyes to read the paternal long-suffering on his ada’s face, or the bemused and too-knowing look on Mithrandir’s. But as Elladan hadn’t actually offended their honored guests, both of them seemed to have chosen discretion as the better part of valor. Lest Elrohir take it into his head to appear and cause trouble of his own!

“Ah, your music may be more lively, but that doesn’t mean ours must be less lovely!” Setting down his own instrument, Elladan swung his feet around the side of his stool with an easy, long-legged grace. His tunic was of simpler cut than most of the others; it slanted above his knees, instead of draped around his ankles, and his tall, grey boots looked worn by years of wear.

“I would hate to think that we had made you feel less than welcome.” There was an irrepressible tease in Elladan’s grey eyes as he held a hand to his heart, and offered Kili a very small bow, motioning to an empty seat and the Dwarves table, “Might I join you? That way I can enjoy your music, instead of inflicting mine on you!”

...

This elf was definitely whittled from a completely different tree than others of his race. There was humor in the tone of his voice, and a teasing glint in his eyes Kili knew he had seen on his own reflection many, many times. The elves on the other tables began to whisper quietly, their glances shifting between the two of them and for a moment, the dwarf enjoyed the confusion they had thrown the elves in. Even Thorin had paused in his talk with Elrond to shoot him a warning look, one that Kili brushed off with a grin.

Of course, he knew about Thorin’s hatred towards the elves.

But those grudges were not his own.

Personally, the elves had not done him wrong.

And he could not deny his growing curiosity towards the other race either; after all, he had winked at the harp player just to see them almost roll their eyes unimpressed. But this one was different; this one seemed to answer fire with fire, wishing to cause mayhem and stir the almost droning atmosphere the clearing had sunken beneath.

“Of course, make yourself comfortable,” Kili smirked motioning towards the empty seat, and those around him snickered and leaned forward out of curiosity. “I trust you know how… different our definition of celebration is, however. The least we’d want to do is scare you off,” he taunted lightly, resting his head in his hand.

...

For a long, suspended moment, both Elves and Dwarves seemed to wait on the edges of the their seats for the replies. For longer than anyone could properly remember, there had been bad blood between the Elves and the children of the stones, stemming from some ancient and long-forgotten slight.

In truth, even Elladan hadn’t been certain how the Dwarves would respond to his request! Most of the inhabitants of the Last Homely House knew better than to encourage the twin’s mischief, but the Dwarves had no such warning– and seemed determined to scandalize the peaceful halls with their laughter.

Good. It was long passed due!

“I’m quivering, mellon nin! But you may find me harder to scare away than you think.” Which was a challenge, after a fashion. A laughing, good hearted challenge where the only stakes were pride. Elladan’s grey eyes were bright and mirrored the silver circlet he wore on his brow. And which glinted, polished bright, when the elf lord swept it from his head and set it unceremoniously on the table!

“Is the sallet not to your liking?” Elladan asked, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards, “No wonder you’ve hardly eaten a bite, dry leaves are food for horses.” His posture was relaxed as he leaned a little closer to Kili (much to the sharp-eyed wariness of some of the people in the room!) and motioned to a small glass bottle on the table, “You pour that over it. But having snuck down to the kitchens earlier, I believe roast boar is the next course, and probably more to your taste!”

...

He hadn’t really paid much attention to the circlet on the elf’s head before it was moved over to the table, and Kili felt his eyebrows rise to his hairline. So, even the elves had mischievous princes among them. A quick glance over his shoulder told him his brother had seen the same thing, and the grin on his lips was filled with amusement. Even if Fili was the calmer from the two of them, he knew his brother would appreciate a good jab at his elders now and then.

His attention was next directed to the bottle of whatever liquid it contained, and Kili wrinkled his nose. “I fail to understand how soggy leaves would make the taste better, but I am glad to hear we’re served actual food at some point,” he snickered, taking a moment to properly study the elf beside him and the longer he stared, the more he noticed the atmosphere grow uncomfortable as the elves seemed to battle between watching them and avoiding what was happening.

The dwarves, however, had quickly grown bored of the exchange and were back to laughing and jabbing at each other over the table as yet another cheery melody filled the air.

Huffing out a laugh, Kili motioned around with his hand. “Do you often scandalize your people like this? Shouldn’t they be glad that their prince is getting along with the kin they most seem to have troubles with?”

A teasing glint lit up in Kili’s brown eyes. “And you should know that it’s not smart to challenge a dwarf. As some would say, we have no shame. Could have you running before you’d speak another fancy elvish word.”

...

People ventured to Imladris for peace, and learning, and for healing. Mostly humans, and the occasional elf– but the dwarves had kept their own council for longer than Elladan had been alive, and he had few encounters with the children of the stones.

“By making them not taste like dry leaves!” Elladan’s laugh was a merry thing; a good natured tease at Kili’s expense. He hadn’t expected to meet a kindred spirit within the dwarven company; but it was a wonderful surprise to have been proven wrong! Kili wasn’t like the solemn, old greybeards– and from his space at the table, Elladan could feel the eyes of the room as they lingered on the back of his neck.

There were things good little elf boys and girls didn’t not do– but the twin sons of Lord Elrond had never listened to that wisdom!

“Ah, you know who I am, then!” He beamed down at Kili, and inclined his head in the cheekiest of little bows, “And I know you, nephew of the great Thorin Oakenshield! I suppose neither of us has the advantage, and we’ll both be soundly lectured about propriety as soon as your uncle, or my ada, catches us without a crowd.”

Somehow, Elladan didn’t think Kili was the sort of run away from trouble. Especially when it was the trouble he’d caused!

“I’ll bet you on that! If you can’t scare me away before the end of the meal, then you have to let me show you around Imladris.” Elladan tilted his head, and fixed Kili with a slanted, mischievous smile, “Unless, of course, you don’t think you can do it?”

...

Well, seemed like the cat was out of the bag. Of course, the elves would know who he was; while neither he or his brother carried a circlet nor a crown on their heads, it was no secret that Thorin had taken both of his nephews with him on this journey. And seeing how Thorin only glared at him instead of anyone else, it made being invisible a bit harder. “Ah, they can try. But I have a feeling neither one of us will listen to them for too long,” Kili laughed, tapping his fingers against the table. “Otherwise, we would know better than to talk to each other, at least in their opinion.“

He felt great amusement that only kept growing as Elladan continued to tease him, clearly not bothered by the stares nor the whispers. Perhaps this was a tale people would eventually hear after their time was over; how the two different princes caused mayhem during their first meal together, and nothing was ever the same ever since.

The thought felt bizarre yet hilarious.

At the dare presented to him, Kili’s grin only grew wider and those close to him seemed to freeze in place before shooting the elf varying looks of pity and humor.

"Dare accepted,” he purred, exhaling a small laugh. “But I don’t play nice, or fair. If you end up being traumatized for life, you have no one else to blame but yourself.” The tone of his voice was teasing, and he could practically feel his nerves vibrating with excitement as he leaned even closer, staring at the prince with a smirk. It had been a long while since he last had the chance to tease someone, and now he was allowed to do it to an elven prince. And either way, he’d win. Spending more time with Elladan didn’t seem that bad of a price to pay if he’d lose.

Which he wouldn’t.

He had never lost.

...

Elladan was the taller, but Kili was stronger and much broader, especially through the shoulders– sat side by side, they looked strangely balanced, wearing complimentary expressions of mischievous challenge.

At their table, Thorin and Elrond exchanged glances of wary long-suffering; and if neither were willing to apologize to the other for the behaviour of their kind? Well, it seemed as though they were willing to let the young be young (provided they didn’t cause too much mayhem for the peaceful city!)

“I’m certain I can endure the wiles of one dwarf!”

But to the other dwarves’ surprise, and the elves’ chagrin, Elladan didn’t press his playful dare. Instead, he crossed his long legs beneath the table, and reached for one of the slim, tapered bottles; he refilled the glasses around him, and then poured one of his own. He enjoyed the raucous music, and laughed as every verse of the old drinking song was a little more ridiculous than the one before.

In short? Elladan let Kili stew in his own impatience, as the merry elf slowly… slowly… almost imperceptibly, slid closer to the dwarf beside him. Elves were notoriously patient. And Kili was not the only one who refused to play nice, or fair!

By the time the servers had begun moving between the tables with great, heated plates of roast boar, potatoes, and refreshingly bitter greens, some of the other guests had noticed Elladan’s slow shift– amusement and quiet chuckles filtering through the room as they cast Kili disconcertingly sidelong looks.

...

The silence that followed their dare was heavy and filled with tension, the dwarf prepared for anything the elf would throw his way. Yet to his surprise, Elladan had gone silent and seemed to enjoy the celebration once more instead of making good of his words. He knew he was good, but he hadn’t thought he was good enough to scare the elf off without doing anything. Snorting amused, Kili spent the next hour talking with his kin, joining in their laughter and singing with a jolly spirit.

It wasn’t until he turned to look at the servants that he realised just how close Elladan had shifted, and for a brief second it startled the dwarf, the surprise visible on his face before he quickly covered it with a grin. So that’s the kind of game Elladan wished to play?

He was more than up for it.

As the plates were placed on the tables in front of them and the heavenly smell reached the dwarves noses, Kili wasn’t surprised to find other dwarves immediately sinking into the meat with enough vigour to make the elves almost gag in disgust. As tempting as the food was, he couldn’t just let the trick Elladan did go unnoticed.

Especially when those close to them seemed amused about the entire situation.

“No need to feel so shy,” Kili smirked, throwing a casual arm around Elladan’s waist, ignoring the sharp gasps he could hear from his left. He was sure someone even dropped a fork, if the clatter was something to go by.

“If you wished to be close, all you had to do was say so,” he added, brown eyes glinting playfully, the warmth under his hand almost distracting.

Who knew elves were so warm?

Besides, he could hear the dwarves around him whoop and laugh, boosting his confidence even further. Surely, Elladan would be shocked with the touch and pull away from their table.

...

The elven folk tended to value their privacy, and their love– though it made for wonderful stories– was courtly and gentle in public. You would be more likely to see an elven couple with elegantly laced fingers, than with their arms around one another! Such displays were for other people– younger races with hotter, quicker blood, and less decorum.

Elladan tensed for an instant when Kili thumped his arm around his waist. It was heavy and warm, a solid band of dense dwarven bone and muscles worked hard by their travels. It was unexpected; in truth, he’d wagered on Kili getting flustered at the attention of the rest of the room– clearly he’d underestimated how stubborn and resilient he was!

“How generous you are with your affection, mellon nin!” Elladan teased, his tone light and unshaken, “But alas? I was merely trying to get a better look at the lovely clasp you have in your hair.”

His arm probably shouldn’t have settled so easily around Elladan’s waist, and Kili’s hand shouldn’t have slotted as comfortably as it did against his hip– and yet?

Despite the scandalized looks fixed on them (there was even a conspicuous silence from the dwarf that had been singing, and a slack-jawed look of shock from the youngest of their company) Elladan grinned.

It was a good game. And suddenly, a much more interesting one!

The dwarf across the table watched the two of them with a dark look of disapproval, and a voice to match, “Mind yourself.” He intoned flatly, but the message, ‘Don’t get so damn close to one of those pointy eared types’ was more than clear.

...

“Ah, it’s alright, don’t be such a spoilsport,” Kili laughed glancing at Dwalin, whose look seemed to turn even more thunderous if possible. Both he and Thorin shared the same hatred towards the elves, so he wasn’t that surprised when the older one had spoken up. Still, it wasn’t Dwalin’s words that caused him to hesitate for a moment.

It was Elladan’s words about his hair and the clasp residing in there, the tips of his ears turning a lighter shade of red as the others around him snickered and nudged his side. Hair after all, was one of the most intimate things to the dwarves. Only close family and lovers were allowed to touch them, much less braid or play with them.

He doubted Elladan knew, but then again, the elf had surprised him before.

“… It’s a gift,” Kili finally spoke out, his words a tad more quieter and flustered as he glanced at Elladan and then away. The hand around the elf’s waist tightened a bit out of instinct, the fabric smooth against the palm of his hand. “My mother made me and my brother a matching set when we came off age.”

As sweet as the memory was, he couldn’t let Elladan win their small bet.

Hunger forgotten for now, Kili scraped up his dignity and confidence by allowing the fingers from his other hand to glide over Elladan’s own briefly before reaching over for the plate of meat.

“Are you often interested in dwarves? I’m sure we’re setting off a bunch of rumors right now,” he teased.

...

Though their friends and relatives were watching them with mingled looks of embarrassment and horror, Elladan knew that this was nothing more than a game. A battle of wills to pass an otherwise dull meal; and for Kili, a dull meal in a strange place.

Instead of teasing the dwarf for the mention of his mother, or the token she’d made for him, Elladan merely nodded and let the point slide uncommented. The dwarven company was far from home, and Elladan would not score points with the mention of their distant family.

And as intrigued as he found himself, (and he was!) there were some things you didn’t ask in such mixed company.

“Interested?” He asked instead, the grey of his eyes brightening at the cheeky question, “I’m interested in all the creatures of Arda!” With a slight shift, Elladan crossed on leg over the other; a gesture the rest of the table couldn’t see, but which angled his body subtly closer to Kili. “According to my very patient father, I’m incurably curious about all the world outside of Imladris.”

Elladan paused a beat, his fingers curled loosely around the stem of his glass, “And how could I fail to wonder about your people? I couldn’t fathom living with tons of stone over my head. And yet!” His grin was half lost against the fragile green glass, “There must be something to it. Otherwise your noble people wouldn’t do it. So clearly there is more I have yet to learn!”

...

The answer pulled a laugh from the dwarven prince, and he had to lower the piece of meat he had bit into lest he’d choke on it. “It seems like that makes it two of us. Mahal knows that my uncle has suffered with my curiosity and I’ve gotten lectured more than once about it. Suppose there’s one of those waiting for me after the celebration too.”

A sudden urge to show Elladan their home, the way of their life rose in his mind, and he tried to imagine the elf’s face if he was to see the huge furnaces or the hidden baths carved deep within the mountains. Perhaps one day he had the chance to do so.

Granted that Thorin would not murder him first.

“Did you ever think you would actually be flirting with a dwarf?” Kili teased lightly, the corner of his lips quirking as he allowed his fingers to tap Elladan’s waist; just a reminder where his arm still rested against the fabric. The motion did not go unnoticed by some of the elves, who seemed actually shocked that their little game was still going further. Perhaps they had thought one of them would have withdrawn already.

Taking it a bit further, Kili allowed his gaze to trail up Elladan’s form very slowly, making it clear that he was enjoying what he was seeing with a smirk. “Is your plot to make me lose so you could have me in private?”

There, surely now Elladan would find him repulsing and run away.

...

The crowd had wagered (and hoped, for the sake of their own peace of mind!) that the game would have ended long before this. That one of them would have wisely accepted defeat, and allowed the natural and long-standing lines to be drawn back between them. Elladan could feel the weight of their eyes on the back of his neck– the resignation from the high table, and the suspicion from their own.

But when Elladan looked over at Kili, his arm still heavy and warm around his waist, he could see his own mischief reflected there. It didn’t matter so much that they were different, when so much of what made them them was the same.

“Flirting? Perhaps not. But I must say… I’m not the one trying to shock our audience with such audacious displays.” It took everything in Elladan’s will not to burst out laughing, especially when the youngest of the dwarves gasped a shallow sound of shock and clamped a hand over his own mouth, his ears turning bright red.

Elladan hadn’t expected the warmth of Kili’s appraising gaze to be such a tangible thing, it simmered like static on his skin beneath the light linen of his tunic. If anything, it stirred the temptation to lean in closer, instead of fleeing the table!

“I believe, mellon nin, that you set the terms of the wager.” A small, fae smile played triumphantly at the corners of Elladan’s mouth, and he motioned to the servers who were entering the balcony with trays laden with sweets. “You claimed no elf was brave enough to endure the company of dwarves– and yet? Here I am. Closer than when I sat down. In fact–”

Elladan lightly tapped his fingers on the back of Kili’s wrist, “You seem determined to keep me here.”

...

This was not working.

Elladan was surprisingly resilient for an elf; had he made the bet with anyone else, they would have given up ages ago based on their shocked and suffering looks. For once, it even seemed that Thorin was agreeing with the elves about something, his uncle heaving a sigh before giving up in trying to keep his nephew in check.

“I admit, you are tougher to break than I thought,” Kili hummed, pulling his arm finally free from around Elladan’s waist much to their audience’s relief. Weirdly enough, he found himself craving for the contact but the elf was right; how could he leave if he was holding onto Elladan?

The light touch against his wrist sent a small shiver down Kili’s spine; he couldn’t recall a time when someone had touched his skin with such gentleness.

It felt almost odd.

He really shouldn’t be thinking like that.

“But I still have a chance,” he said picking up a long string of sweet from the plate, placing the other end between his lips. The dwarves around him started laughing as he held the other end for Elladan, challenge heavy in his eyes, a snicker slipping past his lips. “Ready to back down?”

...

Elladan was grateful he couldn’t see his father’s expression– or Thorin’s, for that matter– from where he was sitting. It was one thing to tease, and flirt, but another entirely to share a kiss with someone he’d just met. Elves didn’t tend to blush, but Elladan could feel the heat slowly crawling up the back of his neck and across his cheeks.

The dwarves seemed to find it hilarious, their laughter holding a jeering and triumphant note, already celebrating Kili’s victory over one of those pointy eared types.

It wasn’t the idea of being close to Kili that was flustering him; the place where the dwarf’s arm had been felt too light, too cold, too conspicuously bereft. A ridiculous thing, for both of them! They were already so close that he couldn’t miss the way Kili shivered at his touch– but with the whole of the room waiting for his response, Elladan had no time to muse over their odd reactions.

Instead of bolting from the table (as the other dwarves were wagering he would. Silly fools!) he leaned into Kili’s side. Elladan smelled of fresh air and road dust, lingering from his long ride that afternoon, and his black hair tickled Kili’s cheek when he lowered his mouth beside his ear. “You leave me a difficult decision,” He whispered, voice pitched low to keep from being overheard.

“I could rise to your new challenge, but at such a cost.” His voice lilted with amusement, “I wouldn’t cheapen a first kiss by placing our wager on it. Do you truly want such a thing to be for the spectacle of our audience?”

...

For a brief moment Kili thought he had won. He had seen the flash of uncertainty and surprise in Elladan’s grey eyes and the cheers that his friends shouted only cemented that feeling further.

However…

He hadn’t expected for Elladan to lean so close all of the sudden, and the scent of dust and sun hit his nose so quickly he was forced to suck in a breath only to freeze in spot as the whispered words ghosted over his sensitive ear. His body grew rigid and he breathed out a shuddering gasp, only loud enough for Elladan to hear.

To everyone’s shock, the candy fell from Kili’s parted lips and a bright shade of red climbed up his cheeks until they had also colored his ears.

He hadn’t even thought about sharing a kiss.

At most, he had expected for Elladan to snatch the candy with his fingers, or bite on the other end; there would have been space between their lips either way. Not much, but still enough for it not to be a proper kiss.

But now Elladan had planted that thought in his head and Mahal save him, he could not continue any further with the way it suddenly felt like his heart was threatening to leap up his throat. Surely it wasn’t as loud as he felt, the elf could not hear it right?

Kili pulled back slowly, the dark hair slipping down from his shoulders as he cleared his throat and stared at the table flustered. It was an odd sensation, to feel so at loss yet so excited, so… Nervous.

No one had made him feel nervous before.

His words while silent, sounded almost like a shout in the now quiet clearing.

“… I yield.”

...

Elladan had been around people with presence before, Imladris tended to attracted them like bees to honey. But Kili had a different sort of magnetism to him, something that made Elladan feel strangely at ease, even though they’d barely met. He shouldn’t have felt comfortable with his arm around him, or his chest pressed to Kili’s broad shoulder as he leaned close to whisper to him– but he did.

So close that he couldn’t mistake or ignore the rapid, racing beat of Kili’s heart; and to hope that dwarven hearing was much less sharp than his own.

For a long moment, they hovered at the edge of a stalemate, until Kili’s words pieced the tension and Elladan felt the air rush from his lungs in a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Thank goodness.” He breathed, a smile swiftly taking place of his heartfelt relief. That had been far too close!

Elladan leaned back, swiftly trying to reclaim his composure, when one of the dwarves– the one that had been sitting across the table from them, his expression fixed in a dark, mottled anger– rose to his feet so sharply that his chair rocked and rattled, nearly tumbling over.

“You yield?!” He demanded, ignoring the long suffering “Caution, brother..” from a white beareded dwarf at the end of the table. “It’s not bad enough we’re surrounded by these pointy-eared–”

Elladan couldn’t translate the snapped, gutteral Dwarven tongue. But he doubted it was at all flattering!

...

He shouldn’t be missing Elladan’s warmth already.

He shouldn’t crave for more touches or to be able to inhale their scent further, maybe drown in it. The way he yearned for the elf Prince was confusing to say the least, and he didn’t like being confused. When he didn’t know something, Kili got overly protective about himself.

Easily agitated.

So it was not a surprise for the dwarves that once Dwalin started to lecture him for yielding, Kili grabbed a wad of green from a nearby plate and tossed them at the older dwarf. “Be quiet would you! That’s not your burden to carry,” he hissed, casting a flustered look towards Elladan as if to apologise with his eyes alone.

He knew his kin would not appreciate him losing, especially when he had practically given up. But he was sure if they had continued and that kiss had actually happened, it would have been much worse. Elladan was right, that was not something he’d wish for the entire party to see.

“What did he say?” Bofur asked from the far end of the table, not even trying to hide his amusement. “Must have been something bad for you to yield.”

“Please,” Kili groaned with a wave of his hand. “I merely got tired of the silly game, that’s all,” he lied, pushing himself away from the table. He hesitated before looking at Elladan.

“Do you want your price now? Don’t think we’ll get another chance before we have to leave, and the food is mostly eaten anyway.”

...

It wasn’t in Elladan’s nature to sit quiet when the people he cared about were in trouble. More to the point, it wasn’t in his nature to sit quiet at all– but that was a very different sort of trouble. For an instant, he wanted nothing more than to rise to his feet and shove the angry dwarf’s words back down his throat where they belonged.

And then Kili looked back at him, and there was something apologetic in his expression that made Elladan’s chest tighten unexpectedly. He was no diplomat, and the company had run hard that day. Been chased by wargs. And faced an unfathomable journey yet ahead of them. But mostly, it was that look that stayed the sharpness of his tongue.

“I told him that I wished to hear more about your adventures, and the kingdom you’re trying to free. But such a conversation doesn’t fit within the stakes of our wager.” Elladan told Bofur smoothly, and let Kili wave away the rest. Several of the dwarves had the good grace to look a little shamefaced, all save Dwalin, who was furiously picking bits of greenery out of his beard!

Turning to Kili, Elladan reached across and plucked two of the sweet buns from the platter on the table, and tossed one lightly to his new friend. “We should! If I don’t get you back in time to sleep, you may fall asleep on your feet tomorrow.”

Elladan scooped his circlet off the table, and bowed elegantly to his father and Thorin, pressing the gleaming silver to his heart, “Máriessë alámenë, Ada… And good night, my lord.”

...

Kili caught the sweet bun with ease despite being caught by surprise from the throw, and felt gratitude wash over him like a wave as Elladan came up with such a convincing lie so quickly. Usually, the dwarf would have a sharp tongue and quick wit to respond to such teasing words, but oddly enough his brain felt nearly sluggish after the flustered state Elladan had left him in.

The only one he didn’t fool was his uncle and brother; while Fili gave him a cheeky grin and a look he would ask questions later, Thorin just seemed ready to drag him away by his ear.

He knew from experience how much that hurt.

“Thank you for the feast,” Kili said quickly, remembering his manners barely in time. After all, Elrond had prepared the celebration for them and fed them, giving them shelter even if their kin had been reluctant to take it.

Without another word he grabbed a hold of Elladan’s sleeve, dragging him away from the clearing. The need to get as far as possible burned in his chest, and even if he didn’t know where to go he still followed the marble stairs down as far as they lead, until the sound of songs and laughter was but a distant echo.

Only then did he stop and release his hold of the elf with a soft yet embarrassed chuckle. “That went well,” he huffed smiling, shifting weight from one foot to the other in a nervous gesture.

“… Thank you for coming up with the lie. You didn’t have to save me from their jests.”

...

While the elves of Imladris and their guests had lingered over their meal, the sky over the Last Homely House had darkened with the coming night. Bright stars were beginning to shine through the deepening blackness, picking out the constellations that Elladan knew by heart.

It was nearly summer, and beyond the elaborate windows and balconies, they could smell the freshness of the water that spilled in great waterfalls through the valley. Elladan was quick on his feet as Kili dragged them both from the dining room, his chest feeling strangely effervescent and light.

“Better than either of us could have expected, I’d say! I thought your friend was going to challenge me to a duel for your honor!”

When they finally stopped, he grinned down at Kili– without the table between them, he could see the dwarf more clearly, the muscled arms that had felt so at home around his waist, and the sheer sense of solid, capable strength that all his folk seemed to have. In comparison, Elladan was tall, but willow thin; black haired and grey eyed, the pale elf looked at home in the cool silver light.

With a look that was equal parts impish and hopeful, Elladan held out his hand to Kili and wiggled his fingers teasingly, “I’ll let you thank me this once, but never again. Next time, you’ll know I don’t leave my friends to be eaten alive. Even by their own company. Now, I promised to show you some of Imladris that would be more to your liking, and I mean to keep my word!”

...

Knowing Dwalin, the dwarf would have challenged Elladan for sure if they hadn’t left when they did. Just like Thorin, the older dwarf felt the need to protect him and Fili from harm, especially if it came from elves. He hoped that eventually they would understand that no harm had been done, and it was truly merely a game between two mischievous princes.

A game he had lost, unfortunately.

That didn’t quell his fire, however, as he grinned up at the elf. “You might have won this time, but I demand a rematch later. You merely caught me by surprise with your words,” he stated, finally reaching out to link his fingers between Elladan’s own wriggling ones.

What was some hand holding after such blatant flirting after all? Yet the almost intimate gesture made him feel more nervous than what they had done by the table.

Elladan’s hand was slim and smooth against his own; where his own fingers were thicker and shorter, the elfs were long and elegant but still fit together with his own surprisingly well. He hadn’t really thought that fingers could be interesting before, yet now he found himself comparing them silently, the pale skin against his darker one a visible contrast how different they were.

“You definitely have more open space under the sky than we do,” Kili finally spoke out to break the silence, his smile almost a shy one as he turned to stare at the darkened sky above them. “It almost feels like one could get lost here where there are no walls.”

...

“So eager to lose again? I’m sure I could indulge your rematch. The next time I see you, then.” The words felt like a promise when they left his lips, and the sincerity behind the words surprised even Elladan a bit.

The next time I see you.

Neither of them knew what the next few months would bring, and the company were going in search of a dragon– across the deadly peaks of the Misty Mountains, and through the unkind darkness of the Greenwood, there were hundreds of miles left before the dwarves. And neither Elladan, nor Kili, could predict what that future would hold.

Stay alive, stay safe. And I will see you again.

“I’d thought the same about your cities. All the walls, and the weight over your heads! How could you navigate the tunnels without getting yourself hopelessly lost?” Elladan hadn’t been lying when he’d admitted to being curious about the dwarves; their lives were just so different!

At the table, their flirting, teasing game of one-upmanship had been half for the amusement of their audience. But out here, as they stopped by one of the great windows, there was no excuse for the comfortable thread of their fingers, or the quickening of his heart when they came together so easily.

With a tug, Elladan hurried Kili along, eager as an elfling to show him the valley outside of the glittering house. “How do you sleep without being afraid the roof will fall in on you?”

...

“How do you sleep out in the open?” Kili countered laughing, taking in the passing scenery. The scent of trees and flowers filled his nose, and he could hear the rumble of the waterfall close-by. Back home, all he could smell was dirt and earth, and all he could hear was the sound of hammer on an anvil and feel the heat of the flames against his skin.

But here the air was cool and fresh, and he had to admit it was a nice change.

“You do know the belief of how we came to be, right? We were born out of stone and that’s why we made stone into our home. It brings us comfort and safety, we carve rooms and furniture out of the material with ease for that same reason. It’s just a part of who we are,” Kili explained, giving Elladan’s hand a light squeeze.

He was glad no one else seemed to be around because of the celebration, he wasn’t sure how they would take it if they were to see the two of them now. The sensible thing to do would be to let go but he couldn’t make himself do so.

Besides, it didn’t seem that Elladan minded.

“Do you not feel vulnerable being open like this? No walls or ceiling to shelter from oncoming threats?” He asked curiously. “Your defences must be top-notch, considering you haven’t had any invasions.”

...

“Then you see the source of my curiousity! Your people walk and talk, and breathe the same air as mine– and yet, your bones are made of a very different metal than mine. The same differences that our people use as justification for their anger, are the same differences I want to understand!”

Hand in hand, Elladan half pulled and half coaxed Kili along through the house. The ceilings were high and the walls and windows seemed to have been built in harmony with the airy world of waterfalls and trees around them. It was nothing like the great dwarven halls, but it held a soft, fae beauty of its own. And in short order, Elladan held the door for them, and lead his companion out into the birdsong night.

“I know the stories my father told me when we were small. Though, I confess! I was always more fascinated by the tales of the Ents. I’ve never seen a walking tree before!” He returned the gentle squeeze of Kili’s fingers, and turned his face up to the night sky when they left the house. The hard-packed paths gave way to mossy ground as Elladan turned their steps away from the roads, following a thousand years of his own memories.

He and Elrohir knew every inch of the valley, and explored them twice over!

“Aulë made the dwarves strong to endure. Therefore they are stone-hard, stubborn, fast in friendship and in enmity, and they suffer toil and hunger and hurt of body more hardily than all other speaking peoples; and they live long, far beyond the span of Men, yet not forever.“ Our books don’t tell us much about your people, but I shudder to think what your tales say about us!” Elladan grinned broadly at Kili, and released his hand long enough to deftly leap over a fallen log, long since mossy and returning to the earth.

“Vulnerable? No! Out here I can run, I can shoot, and I can see my enemies coming. This feels like the safest place in the world.”

...

“We don’t have many books about elves,” Kili admitted chuckling, taking his time in climbing on the mossy log. Unlike Elladan, he wasn’t used to jumping or climbing trees, especially mossy ones. He had learned the hard way that those were slippery. Now he took his time in balancing with more care, feeling his boots sink into the greenery.

He felt like a child again with his arms spread on both sides, a wide grin playing on his lips.

“Those we have don’t tell much either. I’m not sure whether it’s because of our kins issues with yours or if we simply don’t know enough. Some say you came from the trees, others believe you descended from the stars,” he continued, making a show of teetering on the very edge of the log before leaping down, brushing his hands against his pants before skipping to the nearby rock.

It had been a while since he could just enjoy being outside with no one breathing down his neck, and it was clear on his relaxed posture how much he was enjoying their small escape.

“Are you truly immortal, or is that just a tale?” Kili asked curiously, turning to look at Elladan over his shoulder. Up on the rock, he was almost the same height with the elf.

“What do you do with that much time? How old even are you?”

...

The further they ventured from the path, the steeper the slope began to slant downwards. There were a dozen easier ways to where Elladan was leading them, but none so direct– and none that wouldn’t mean wandering, winding, through the busier parts of Imladris.

Their time was limited, and Elladan could feel the prick of the deepening night on his skin. The cool air was a reminder that they only had until dawn, when the dwarven company would surely be eager to continue their journey. Light would some, and they would go; and Elladan refused to waste a minute of it.

“I couldn’t tell you! It’s as much a mystery to my people as it is to yours– there are some secrets even the firstborn aren’t meant to know.” Elladan admitted merrily, his heart feeling unexpectedly light when he returned Kili’s easy smile. “Life would be intolerably boring without a mystery or two, wouldn’t it?”

Elladan paused halfway down the slope and half turned, the night air blowing the long, black hair back from his face. His circlet had been tucked onto his belt, barely an afterthought, and Kili could see the pale point of one ear escaping through his hair.

At the table he’d been taller than Kili, and even moreso when they were standing… Suddenly, he was eye to eye with the dwarf, and his smile faltered.

“Immortal? Not entirely. We age, and we can die. But we measure time very differently.”

It was the sort of question people didn’t ask the elves! And Elladan wanted to answer, he wanted to encourage the brash curiousity that had so completely caught his attention! But what a question… And how would he react to the answer?

“I’m … Young, by our reckoning.” Elladan said quietly, his grey eyes not quite meeting Kili’s in the dark, “We were born early in this age, and I had already reached my majority before your great city was founded.”

...

The way Elladan closed up about his age caught Kili by surprise, and uncertainty flickered in the dark eyes for a brief second. Had he already managed to cross over a line and made the elf uncomfortable? He didn’t mean it, but he also couldn’t help his curiosity. While dwarves did not age as slow as the elves, most of them still lived to be a healthy 250 years in average.

Some even reached the age of 300!

“You must think we all are very young in that case, especially me,” Kili chuckled, smiling in a tad uncertain way as he tried to light up the situation again. “I came off age just a while ago, so guess I could blame my young age for my curiosity but you’re a proof that age has nothing to do with curiosity,” he teased lightly, leaning over to poke his finger gently against Elladan’s forehead.

“If anything else, one could say one gets more reckless as they get older. I mean, look at you being out here alone with a dwarf, who knows what whispers are going around as we speak?”

...

With an incandescent little pop, like the bursting of a soap bubble, Elladan felt his fear evaporate. “I’m still very young by elven standards! Truthfully, we’re probably close to the same. The only difference is that I had my 2800th Begetting Day a few years ago.”

But his grandmother had watched the Valar kindle the moon into being, and his father had seen the end of the First Age. In comparison, the twins were very young indeed!

Elladan’s hand swept up to catch Kili’s fingers, a brief furrow crossing his forehead when he’d been poked, “I suppose this must be reckless, indeed. But I haven’t had this much fun all season!” With a beaming smile, Elladan looked down at their hands, and splayed his fingers out against Kili’s. One hand was pale and slender, the other broader and stronger; but when they fit.

“I’d be more worried about the trouble you’ll get tomorrow. Your friends seem the sort to tease you from here to Osgiliath!” Halfway down the slope was a strange place to stand, but it was quiet and private, while the rest of Imladris lingered over their evening meals.

“I’ll hope my company is worth the trouble.”

...

“Eh, I’m more worried about Thorin than one of my friends,” Kili admitted with a small huff, gaze fixed on their fingers. The intimacy of it still shocked the dwarf, his expression thoughtful as he ran one of his finger lightly over Elladan’s own. Never in hundred years did he think he’d find such peace by holding hands with an elf, yet here he was.

Elladan was teaching him a lot of new stuff in the span of one evening.

“But while I fear my uncle’s reaction to this developing bond, I have to admit I’m rather curious too see how others react to this. I’ve done a lot of reckless things in my time but never anything quite like this,” he smiled, allowing the gravity to finally slide him down from the rock.

In the new position, he had to hold his arm higher to keep their fingers connected but he didn’t mind. If anything, he felt a tad excited about how different they were.

“What about you? I don’t think your family is taking this lightly either, unless you’ve made a habit to run off with your guests,” the dwarf continued with a soft laugh, throwing a wink up at Elladan. He couldn’t quite explain why he felt the need to tease the elf, why he was close to flirting with him again for reactions but…

It didn’t feel wrong.

...

Elladan’s fingers twitched, responsive and sensitive, at the gentle rasp of Kili’s touch. It wasn’t unpleasant at all; just different. Like the two of them, like their hands, like the whole of this unexpected night– things that shouldn’t work together, but somehow did. Complimentary differences, perhaps; but Elladan wasn’t interested in analyzing it.

Not then. They’d have more than enough time for that later.

“As have I! And I’m a little leery of your uncle’s reaction, as well. I have no doubt he means only the best for you, but I fear he’ll find it difficult to look beyond my race.” Elladan paused while Kili slid down from his rock, and the height between them changed again. Even if the dark, there was no mistaking the differences between them! And Elladan could no more pretend to be a dwarf, than Kili could be an elf.

“My father will have nothing but words of support, and caution. He holds no ill-will towards your people, and he’s rather given up telling us who we’re allowed to befriend! So long as you mean us no harm, he’ll keep his own council. As for the rest of my people? Well, it’s been too long since they’ve had new grist for their gossip! I’m curious about their rumours, not afraid of them!”

Gripping Kili’s hand more tightly, Elladan lead the way through the valley, their path winding up and around until the lights of Imladris were pinpoints, and then lost entirely on the far side of the night dark trees.

“My family has a history of carrying on with people we shouldn’t.” Elladan grinned back over his shoulder, bright and impish, “Or do Dwarves not tell the story of Lúthien?”

...

He had no doubts that the elves were already spreading rumors, and had to admit he was also curious about finding out what those rumors were. Surely, this was the talk of the century!

“Can’t say it sounds familiar,” Kili admitted laughing, stepping over the larger rocks and branches with ease. After all, dwarves had an excellent sight in the dark; how else would their kind be able to live inside the mountains? Before the fires had been lit, they had to rely on their instincts and senses.

A quick glance over his shoulders told him they had ventured far from the city, and curiosity bloomed ever brighter within the dwarf. Where was Elladan taking him? Were they merely walking, or was there a destination to be reached?

“Is it a juicy story? I’m afraid our books did not cover what scandals your race might have gone through by yourselves,” the dwarf snickered good-naturally, tightening his hold of Elladan’s hand just because he enjoyed the sensation of the smooth skin against his own rougher one.

It felt hard to believe those same hands could kill with such ease if needed.

“Please tell me it’s a tale of an elf who ran away with a dwarf or a human.”

...

“Believe me, mellon nin, if I had a relative that had run away with a Dwarf, it would have made for a very different sort of gossip over the evening meal!”

Elladan had been back in the city for months, and the walls had begun to feel close and suffocating around him. Too many walls, too many expectations– he knew his brother had felt the same itchiness under his skin, the urge to turn and run for the wider plains.

But they had ridden with the Dunedain long enough, and when their father had called, they had returned home.

But this? Out beneath the star studded sky, his spirits lifted by the merry company at his side? Elladan felt as though he could breathe again.

Hand in hand, he lead Kili around the edge of the grey valley, the night air brisk and cool, and scented with damp loam and crushed greenery beneath their feet, crackling with deadfall. “Just a little further..”

In the silver light, Elladan’s face was touched with fey mischief, as he reached out with his free hand to pull aside a thick veil of branches. He’d promised Kili that he would show him a beautiful sight; something lovely beneath the sky, to prove that not all wondrous things were found in deep caves. He only hoped this settled their wager.

The slope of the valley steepened here, dropping down a sharp and wooded slope towards the river far, far below. It felt like standing at the edge of the world, domed by the endless vault of silver stars in their limitless blackness. The Last Homely House was picked out like an orange-red jewel against the deep green darkness, but the only sound around Kili and Elladan was the breeze in the trees, the rush of the distant river, and the occasional twitter of night birds.

“The story begins in a place like this.” He murmured, tethered by Kili’s hand as he walked closer to the edge. “With Lúthien dancing beneath the starlight. She was the daughter of Elu Thingol, King of Doriath, and his Queen, the Maia, Melian. And how, caught up in her dance, she didn’t notice the human man, Beren, who had seen her.”

...

Instinctively, his grip of Elladan’s hand tightened as the elf waltzed closer to the edge of what seemed to be a bottomless pit. Being a dwarf, Kili was not fond of high places and for him it felt as if he could be sucked into the void at any moment. But there was beauty in the darkness; the stars above them reflected from the surface of the water below, and he had to admit there was an own kind of beauty in the place.

It felt almost as if they were in a world of their own.

A private place that existed only for the two of them.

Suddenly, it felt as if his heart began pounding a lot faster.

“Was he captivated by her beauty?” Kili asked silently, breaking the tentative silence that had descended upon them. “I don’t think many men have had the chance to see an elf dance, much less an elf maid. I think he would have been, unless the story has a sad ending.”

The dwarf made a face, taking a tentative step closer to the edge to stand beside Elladan. The air felt thicker than before, and Kili wasn’t sure whether he only imagined it or if something was building between them. Did he wish for something? Or was he merely loopy from the height of the place?

Shaking his head to clear it, the dwarf released his hold of Elladan’s hand and crouched instead, burying his hand in the cool grass.

“Please tell me it’s not a sad story.”

...

Whatever this was between them, and Elladan couldn’t put the feeling into words, it seemed to have a life of its own. A quicksilver energy that bound them together, running through their veins and crossing their joined hands, creating a closed circuit that tingled on Elladan’s skin wherever they touched.

“It was love at first sight. A hopeless, all consuming love. But when Lúthien heard him approaching? She fled.”

Elladan had always loved stories, and it didn’t particularly matter where they came from. He delighted in the telling of them, his voice animated and that softly enigmatic smile on his face.

When Kili dropped his hand, Elladan could feel the cold that rushed in to take the place of the rough Dwarven heat. Sitting down beside him hadn’t been a conscious decision; it felt like the only natural thing to do. So he sank down crosslegged on the grass beside his new friend, and looked out at the glittering blackness over the valley.

“But he came again in spring, and this time she let Beren fold her in his arms. It’s said that Lúthien was more beautiful than any elf-maid before, or after; and it there was Maiar blood in her veins.”

Elladan’s heart felt like it was tripping, hammering, against his ribs. And before he could think better of it, he reached out, his fingers lightly resting over Kili’s in the thick grass.

“Their son, Dior, was the first child of mixed blood. The first of a union of Elf and Man. And their choice has traveled through their bloodline, generation after generation– the choice of whether to remain immortal, or to sacrifice their long, long lives for short human ones. So you see, mellon-”

Elladan waved his free hand towards himself, and out to the dark valley, “What I said was true. My family does have a history of finding love in very unexpected places.”

...

It took a moment for Elladan’s words to register in his mind and once they did, he could feel the tips of his ears burn and thanked Mahal that the valley they rested in was bathed in darkness. For it hid the redness he was sure had taken over his entire face, burning under his skin but it was not unpleasant. It wasn’t a blush of shame or embarrassment, but surprise.

There laid something unsaid between the words Elladan spoke, of his family finding love from other races. Something Kili did not dare to put into words.

“It’s not uncommon for some of our race to fall for people,” Kili said, fingers twitching underneath Elladan’s own as he laced them together once again, thumb running over the smooth surface of the elf’s fingers. “Elves however… that’s unheard of. Most of our kin still thinks of you as something too different and because of that. they reject your kin. If they were to hear about this, about the way we speak to each other and… hold each other…” the dwarf trailed off, tongue thick in his mouth as he swallowed nervously.

Mahal, what was it about this particular elf that made him feel as if his every nerve was on fire?

“I’m not delusional, am I? You feel it too?” He asked almost desperately, finally turning to gaze upon Elladan. In any other situation he’d be ashamed of how he sounded; almost pleading like a child desperate for an affirmative answer. He felt raw and exposed, and knew that with a single word Elladan could inflict a blow so deep it would take him years to recover.

“There’s….something.”

...

“It’s not your people, alone. My own are far from free of prejudice. Both sides have been at odds for so long that…” Elladan trailed off, and in the darkness a look of helplessness flickered across his face.

What had started as a joke between them, a way to tease each other– and to ease the stuffy, rigid formality of the evening meal– head become something else. Or perhaps it had always been, and the joke had merely been the catalyst for them to see it.

Kili’s fingers were warm and broad in his own, as solid as the bedrock the children of stone were said to be crafted from. And they fit– that was strangest thing of all! His skin felt flushed and alive where they touched; and Elladan’s sigh of relief when Kili turned his hand to clasp his own, was audible in the still night.

“Something… Yes.”

It was almost a relief to say it aloud, and Elladan turned to Kili with a small, shaken smile. Slowly, he traced the pad of his thumb across the ridge of Kili’s knuckles, feeling hard bone beneath the weathered skin. It was still an unfamiliar touch, but it made his stomach tense with pleasant nerves, the space filled with fluttering.

“You’re not delusional. Unless we both are, and that seems even more impossible. I know… I know. We should both go back to the city, and forget all of this. Your company is going to leave in the morning, and it would surely be the wisest thing to pretend this... never happened.”

Elladan swallowed hard, his grey eyes tracing Kili’s face in the silver moonlight, the desperate cadence of his heart compelling him to commit it to memory. Just as it looked in this moment, like a talisman against the forever days ahead without him.

“But… I’ve never claimed to be wise.”

...

He knew Elladan was right.

They would leave in the morning, and the chances of seeing each other again were slim. The road ahead was filled with dangers and the looming threat of death, and it would not be fair for him to ask the elf to wait for something that might never happen.

Besides, Elladan was immortal. His own lifespan would be a mere blink in their eyes.

It wasn’t fair.

“…It pains me,” Kili whispered quietly, meeting Elladan’s gaze with his own; just as miserable, just as lost as he was. Their time together was running short, and he knew he would never meet anyone who would make his heart jump with joy as Elladan did. After all, dwarves only fell once.

“If things were different… if we had met in different circumstances, a year or so later when this journey was over…” he trailed off with a slow shake of his head, shoulders slumped in defeat. His fingers caught Elladan’s own, slowly tracing patterns into the warm skin as if he was memorizing the sensation on his fingertips.

“Yet, I can’t bring myself to say we should forget. I don’t want to forget, and pretend this never existed.”

...

Even the powerful, and the wise, could not choose who their heart wanted. For most of his life, Elladan had reconciled himself to living without that particular connection; his people loved once, and only once. And the sons of Elrond had always come as a pair. Perhaps, he’d thought then, they were a joke of Eru– making them brothers instead of lovers.

And it hadn’t mattered! He’d never felt the lack of romance in his life.

Now, Elladan suspected, his heart tight and trembling against his ribs, that he’d simply been waiting for someone entirely different.

“I would not be the source of your pain.” Elladan’s gaze dropped to their hands, his own long, slender fingers laced through Kili’s as though they’d been fashioned to fit there. Complimentary in their opposites. “Not for all the world. But it seems that Fate has other ideas.”

With a long sigh, Elladan lay back on the grass, the soft blades releasing their fresh, green scent when they broke. From this angle, Kili looked haloed by stars, the light of them catching on his dark hair and the flush of his cheeks.

“If we’d met two years from now, your journey would be done, and perhaps you would not be the same person you are now.” He murmured, still thumbing the back of Kili’s hand. “Had you not been attacked so close to our valley, your people would have had to reason to seek shelter here for the night.’

“Had gwenur and I been away this night, as we often are… So many things aligned for us to meet, like this, in this moment.”

Elladan’s free hand was unsteady when he reached up to smooth a few stray strands of hair from Kili’s brow, his fingertips lingering on his temple. “I could never forget you… I would rather suffer the pain of missing you, than never have know you, or this, at all.”

...

The lingering, cool touch against his temple almost tore a sob from Kili’s lips. He had been hurt in his life by blades, by fire and mistakes but none of that pain compared to what he felt right now. It felt as if something was trying to tear its way out of his chest and he felt like screaming until his voice was hoarse, he wanted to do something reckless like beg for Elladan to run away with him and just hide from the rest of the world who thought of them as wrong.

But he couldn’t.

They were both of royal blood and had duties for their people; they could not be selfish like that.

“Why would the Gods wish for us to suffer like this?” Kili asked pained, covering Elladan’s hand with his own so he could lean his head against them, nuzzling his faze over the elf’s open palm. “So much could go wrong, I might not return from this journey at all and I can’t… I can’t ask you to wait for me. It would not be fair towards you. I don’t want to hurt you any more than I already am.”

The silence stretched upon them, and Kili took a moment to just breathe in Elladan’s scent, searching comfort from his gentle touch. He smelled like the grass and the forest, something crisp and fresh and it made Kili’s head spin. It was simply the most enticing scent he’d ever smelled in his life.

“But if there is a chance to see you again after this…”

...

He was so very warm, despite the cool night breeze, and Elladan wanted nothing more than to fold himself into the dense strength of Kili’s arms. To hold onto him, to feel the hammer beat of his heart against his chest, for as long as they might be able to.

Their parents would be horrified. But in that bittersweet moment, Elladan had no thought for anyone but the man beside him.

“You won’t ask me to wait, any more than I would ask you. If you find someone on your travels that makes…” His voice wavered embarrassingly, the last syllable shaking unsteadily before succumbing to silence. It was selfish, impossibly selfish, but Elladan didn’t want Kili to meet someone else.

The idea of him holding another hand like this, of knowing that someone else had claimed the small, fledgling corner of his heart? It made Elladan’s fingers twitch, tightening with the urge to hold him just that bit closer.

Elladan ghosted a smile up at Kili, the tips of his fingers tracing along the line of his cheek, the squared jaw and the rough bristle of his beard. The elven folk were fair, but Kili felt real in a way his own people didn’t.

If they were the cool fire of distant stars; than Kili was the glowing forge, or the heat of the home hearth.

“Tomorrow you go. Reclaim your kingdom.” Elladan’s eyes were wide and silver in the starlight, drinking in the sight of his own fingers moving across Kili’s skin. “And when you’ve driven out the dragon, and are prince beneath your mountain, send me word. I’ll come.’

“But for tonight, just let me be Elladan, and yours.”

...

Let me be yours.

The words resonated within Kili’s core and he released a wounded sound that came from somewhere deep within his chest, and didn’t even hesitate to brush his lips ever so gently over Elladan’s wandering fingers. He swore he could almost taste the grass on his lips, and he breathed softly against the cool skin, his lip quirking up in a hint of a smile.

“Not many outsider knows, but we dwarves don’t take multiple lovers during our lifetime,” he murmured softly, allowing his other hand to trail through Elladan’s hair slowly. It felt like silk, slipping between his fingers smoothly and he absently rolled a strand around his finger as if that would keep the elf with him for a while longer. “Some do of course, if their spouse dies in a war or from sickness. But they would never love the new one as deeply as they did the first. So I suppose in a way, it’s almost similar to how you elves are told to love.”

He met Elladan’s silver eyes with his own, holding his gaze as he spoke the next words that he was sure would shock his entire family and kin if they were to hear them.

“There will never be anyone out here for me, who would make my heart beat like you do. From now on, it beats for you and only you. And when we’ve reclaimed our kingdom I’ll write you and we will figure something out. If this is what the Gods intended for us, we will find a way to make it work.”

...

It was madness, this feeling. A wild, impossible thing that felt like it had always been there, patiently waiting for the day that they would be close enough to realize it. The old stories spoke of love at first sight, of finding someone who’s fea resonated in time with your own.

But they’d been stories, nothing more.

“Very much like our own.” Elladan confirmed, his voice constricted to little more than a murmur, pushed through a tightening throat. “One love, for all the long days of our lives. I always believed it was a choice; and one could choose not to love. I… How wrong I was.”

Would either of them have chosen this? Elladan wasn’t certain. The thought of Kili leaving at sunrise was agony, soothed only by the gentle pass of his fingers through his hair, and the steady pressure of their joined hands. How quickly the alchemy of affection turned laughter into love!

Slowly, Elladan propped himself on one arm, his eyes falling closed as he pressed his forehead to Kili’s, “For you, and only you.” He repeated the words softly into the space between them, and felt the weight of the vow as it settled on his heart.

Elladan lifted their joined hands and pressed them to his chest, the rushing trip of his heart vibrating under Kili’s fingers. “What do you call this feeling in your language? That I may hold your words close to me, even when you’re not.”

...

“There are many words for what we’re feeling right now,” Kili replied just as silently, moving to rest his hand on the nape of Elladan’s neck to hold the elf close for just a while longer. His thumb continued to draw slow circles through Elladan’s hair, his words a whisper over the elf’s own.

“Amrâlimê simply means ‘my love’,” he started, allowing their joined hands to press closer to Elladan’s chest and for a brief moment, he thought he felt the elf’s heartbeat underneath his palm. “Menu tessu means ‘you’re everything to me,” he continued and in a fit of adrenaline he leaned closer, burying his face into the soft hair and inhaled deeply.

At this rate, his heart would surely burst.

“But if you allow it, I would like to call you my Lukhudel,” Kili finished, a hint of a smile playing on his lips before he pressed them lightly on Elladan’s forehead. “It means ‘light of all lights’.”

And for Kili, Elladan was just that.

A bright light that shone through the trees and unto the earth, castings its warmth over the cold rock.

...

“Amrâlimê…” Elladan ran the word over his lips softly, feeling the almost Sindarin shape of the letters. It sounded different in his voice than it did in Kili’s, a Dwarven word made tenderly different, precious, in an Elven voice. There was nobody to judge them here, nobody to warn them against falling too hard, too fast.

And so there was nothing to caution Elladan against resting his head on Kili’s shoulder, or breathing in the scent of him, like loam and leather and woodsmoke. For a moment he was tense with uncertainty; but Kili could feel the way his body eased slowly into his side, slotting his long, thin body against him.

“Allow it?” Elladan laughed, short and quick with surprise, his smile at odds with the tears that beaded the corners of his grey eyes. “What a thing to ask me now! I’ll be offended from now on if you call me anything else.”

Maybe it was easier to laugh at the joy of being with him, than to cry at how inevitably short their time together would be. So Elladan smiled up at him, and cupped Kili’s cheek in his hand, following the curve of his cheekbone with his thumb. “Kili…” He breathed his name like it was something sacred, the feather light touch skimming across the dwarf’s lower lip.

“Does it curse our luck if I kiss you? Or it is more cursed if I let you go without?”

...

A shiver ran down the dwarf’s spine as the ghost of breath ran over his lips and in an instant, his entire mouth went dry. Never in his life had he heard anyone say his name as sweetly as Elladan did; it felt as if his name was safe on the elf¨s lips and it sent his heart hammering even faster and almost loud enough he feared Elladan would hear it.

The question was a two-sided sword for no matter which option he’d choose, they would feel pain in one way or another. Yet with one option, the pain would at least be bittersweet.

“I would rather taste you once than wonder the rest of my life whether you taste as sweet as you smell,” Kili murmured, his voice deeper and rougher with emotion as he slid his fingers from Elladan’s neck to rest on the side of his face instead. The lack of facial hair should have startled him but instead, it felt almost natural; as if his hands had always known that his lover would be smooth and warm under his fingertips.

He knew that once they actually crossed the line, there would be no going back. If they did this, he could not pretend this entire evening did not happen. His heart would belong to Elladan no matter what happened. The thought while terrifying also woke a lingering sense of hope in his chest. He could feel his entire body tremble ever so slightly, and he knew he’d never been as nervous in his life before.

Yet he knew he would not be judged for his wants.

“I think I’m actually going to die if I don’t know,” he added with a low chuckle and taking the question as permission, Kili closed the remaining inches between them and lightly pressed his lips over Elladan’s own.

...

Even as a child, Elladan had never passed the time by dreaming of his one-day lover; perhaps because he could never picture what they might be like. He would never have imagined the bold, squared Dwarven features or the rasp of a beard under his fingers. Those strong hands wouldn’t have featured in any fantasy, because how could he have guessed?

Those daydreams would have seemed hollow and flat, while his soul craved something that was– until today– elusive.

“More than once. I swear, I’ll kiss you again before you leave.” Elladan’s breath jittered across his lips at the low rasp of Kili’s voice, in concert with the same shiver that slid down his spine. A tangible tremor that Kili could feel against his side where they were pressed close together.

It felt like anticipation and nerves– a kiss was a promise, a line in the sand that could never be crossed again.

And that when Kili left, he would take with him a piece of Elladan, freely given.

“Thank Elbereth for that… I might have had to kiss you anyway, and risked the ill luck!”

Whatever the next day would hold, their first kiss was sealed with joy.

Elladan’s eyes fell closed as they met each other in the halfway, feeling the curve of his smile against his mouth. Cool fingers combed through Kili’s dark hair, bumping against the clasp of silver and stopping to pull him closer.

His heart had never felt so fast, or so full, brimming over with a feeling he couldn’t hope to put into words. There was only Kili, the touch of his hands and the warmth of his body sheltering them both from the midnight chill. With flushed cheeks, Elladan rested his forehead against Kili’s again, feeling the lingering, phantom pressure of his lips.

“Your kisses are a dangerous thing.” He breathed. The world felt different– or himself different in it– his heart displaced by overwhelming new feeling. “The world could turn to dust around me, and I’m not sure I’d notice.”

...

The answer was a definite yes; Elladan did taste just as sweet as he smelled like. Like a fruit he could not name but filled his heart with joy and he knew instantly he was hooked on that taste. The fact their thing was practically forbidden at least with his own kin only spurred Kili on, and he released a soft laugh as their kiss broke and he rested close to his new lover.

“I have to agree, I think I already got addicted to your taste,” he murmured smiling, nudging his nose against Elladan’s lightly. He didn’t dare part any further, didn’t want to feel the chill of the night and come back to reality. He only held Elladan closer, whispering soft promises and reassurances against the pale skin. Shy lips pressed tiny fluttering kisses over the fair face; his forehead, the tip of his nose and then once again on his lips.

Time did not exist at the moment, only the two of them with their hearts beating in the same rhythm.

He knew that this only made leaving much harder in the morning.

But there under the stars in their own little world, he relished on the moment they shared, knowing the memory of it would keep him warm through the lonely nights and the promise they made would help him overcome whatever obstacle the journey threw his way.

...

One kiss lead to two, and five, and twenty; his lips skimming over Kili’s face as his beloved did the same. He felt the solid bones beneath the warm skin, and the rough softness of his beard against his lips; the same stubble that grazed his cheeks when Kili returned his kisses.

The world could shatter around them, and the valley of Imladris could slide in to the sea, and there would be nothing in Elladan’s mind but Kili. It was heady, a dizzying swoop of emotion that made his fingers tingle where they touched, and his breath come faster, short and quick between kisses.

“What madness is this?” He laughed quietly, sinking back against the thick grass. It smelled fresh and green, as dark in the night as the long strands of black hair that had escaped the plait that wound down Elladan’s back. “What a lucky thing you yielded our competition earlier– this is one moment I would not have shared, not for all the world.”

With a careful touch, Elladan reached up to curl a loose lock of Kili’s hair around his fingers with a soft catch of his breath. It was an intimacy among his own people, only your closest and dearest would touch your hair. But his plait had already been worked loose by Kili’s fingers. The thought that made him shiver pleasantly, his body flushed warm and unaware of the cooling night.

“Ithildinen…” He murmured, and tightened his arm around Kili’s shoulders to pull him close again, “Half of my heart goes with you when you leave. Keep it safe.”

...

“I won’t let anything happen to it,” Kili promised as he allowed the gentle tug to pull him back close to Elladan. He curled on the grass beside the elf, one arm resting over Elladan´s chest, the other behind his own head for support. He had never felt such peace in his entire life, and he dreaded to let the moment slip away. Here the only sounds were their own rapid breathing and the wind in the trees and it felt as if the outside world did not exist.

For a moment he could just let go and be himself.

Be selfish and enjoy the moment.

He wasn’t sure for how long they laid in the cool grass just talking quietly, stealing touches as if they would die if they parted for as long as a minute. Their shared laughter broke the silence now and then and Kili poured out his life for Elladan; everything from his childhood and how he’d lost his father to how he grew up with his mother and uncle, trying to be as good as his older brother.

Trying to prove his worth as the prince and one of the Durins.

The words came out with surprising ease, and he knew his tales were safe with Elladan. Despite only knowing for such a short time, he felt as if he could trust his life in the elf´s hands.

...

Time slipped by, filled with the quiet stories of their lives. They weren’t minstrel’s tales, to be told around the hearth at night– they were small, simple. How it felt to be the younger brother, and the weight of expectation they both carried. Stories of childhood mischief, and old loss.

Elladan told Kili of how he and Elrohir had escaped the valley to find their mother when she’d been taken by orcs; and how they’d all survived, yes.. But Celebrian had never been the same, and how she’d chosen to take the boats West before the end of the year.

He spoke of little Arwen, and how strange it was to see her as a woman grown, instead of the elfling child that had learned to dance on his feet.

Elrohir was a constant through them all, and most of Elladan’s tales were of ‘we’ and not ‘me’. Elrohir who was older by minutes, and who was so much Elladan’s mirror that nobody could tell them apart.

But eventually, even the most wonderful nights came to an end.

During the night, they’d draped their cloaks around themselves snugly, the two of them wrapped close beneath the heavy weight. From his vantage point with his head pillowed on Kili’s chest, Elladan could see the sun on the far side of the valley, the lightening horizon that heralded dawn.

“Light comes.” He sighed, breaking the comfortable silence they’d fallen into. “Your company is going to be waiting for you, if they haven’t already noticed we’re gone.” Propping himself on his elbow, Elladan gazed down at Kili, trying to imprint the image of him, bathed in the orange-pink of dawn, into his memory.

“Free your home, ithildinen, and write to me. Do you promise?”

...

The dawn felt as if a death sentence had been laid upon them as the reminder that their time was over rose together with the sun. The light of the stars began to dim and what had been a dark void of starlight and water now became more green, the forms of the rocks and trees beginning to take shape around them. Gone was the comfortable bubble they had rested in, and with a wistful sigh, Kili pressed one last kiss on top of Elladan’s hair.

“I promise,” he said softly, regretfully nudging the elf over so that he could get up. Pins and needles instantly travelled through his legs for he had not gotten up for hours and he rubbed them with a groan. He didn’t want to go, didn’t want to leave this wonderful elf behind with the risk of never seeing him again. The thought wound his chest tight as if he could not breathe properly, and an uncomfortable sensation rested in the pit of his stomach.

“I am fairly sure my brother noticed I hadn’t returned, as has my uncle. I expect some stern talk in my future,” he laughed shakily, offering his hand to Elladan to help the other up as well.

“But there’s nothing I would change of our night. It gave me hope I didn’t know I lacked and now I journey with a goal of my own.”

...

“Don’t despair. It’s a… An absence. Nothing more. A temporary thing.” Elladan wasn’t sure which of them he was trying to console, but he had to believe his own words. Otherwise the aching void in his chest would grow to consume him, fueled by grief and the fear that it would never end.

In the dawn light, Elladan watched as Kili picked himself up from the ground stiffly. They were both young, but bodies weren’t meant to rest in the cold grass for hours! “Are you going to tell them?” He asked, and had half reached up for Kili’s hand before he thought better of it. Elladan knew he would have to tell Elrohir, but the others? He didn’t know…

They’d never understand. How could they? There was too much anger, too much foolish animosity, on both sides.

One corner of his mouth curved faintly as he looked at Kili’s offered hand, and the thin strip of his wrist where his sleeve had ridden back. He shifted to a knee and dropped his hand to his boot, finding the small, silver knife he always kept there. “Then let me send you with something to remind you of your goal.”

Taking a slow breath, Elladan reached back for the long, half unwound plait of black hair, the thick fall of it pooling on the ground. With a flick of his knife, he sliced through one of the tiny braids that had been woven through it, and deftly tied the shorn edges so they wouldn’t fray.

It was smooth and glossy black, and Elladan wrapped it several times around Kili’s wrist, before tugging his sleeve down to hide it.

“Come back to me safe, Kili… The dragon cannot have you.”

...

Before Kili had even realized what was going on, he felt the soft strands of Elladan’s hair around his wrist and his heart skipped a beat. If he looked closely, he could see the place where the elf had cut his hair; it stuck out as the wind picked up, and surely someone would see it eventually. Kili pulled his hand close to his chest, feeling the makeshift bracelet like a warm bond around his skin. Never in his life had he acquired something as special as this, and if he could he would have returned the favor.

Alas, he did not braid his hair yet and that would surely raise questions he could not answer before the journey was over.

“I’ll come back,” he promised softly, cupping Elladan’s face into his hand. “I still have to return the favor after all,” he added with a small flick of his wrist, a content smile spreading on his lips. “I’m not going to let anything happen to this gift, it’ll bring me hope in the darkest of days.”

With a last peck on Elladan’s forehead he took a step back, trying to make his expression as neutral as he could. It would raise suspicions if he returned with a smile or a look of heartbreak in his eyes. The sun was already too high for his liking; he had to sneak back now before the rest of the company would wake up. He would already be in trouble with his family.

“As for your question… perhaps my brother shall know one day. But for now, this night will be mine alone. I’m possessive like that,” Kili winked.

...

Even new love, for all its’ power, couldn’t stop time. The sun was already rising over the edge of the valley when Elladan vaulted gracefully up to his feet. The urge to reach for Kili’s hand seemed the most natural thing in the world– but it was a habit neither of them could afford.

Not now. Not yet.

Kili’s cheeky wink made Elladan’s heart feel lighter, and with a resigned sigh and a bittersweet smile, he nodded towards the path back to the Last Homely House. “You’re all covered in grass, ithildinen, our families are going to think we passed the whole night finding trouble!” Which wasn’t entirely untrue, just not in the way they would assume.

Reaching out, his skin tingling at the proximity, he brushed a few crushed, errant strands from his beloved’s dark hair. They stained his fingers green, the same bright shade as the leaves with the early morning sunlight glowing through them. Neither of them had slept, but Elladan’s heart felt quickened in his chest.

Lighter than he’d feared. But this was a temporary separation… He could accept no other alternative.

“If your possessiveness brings you back to me safe? I welcome it.”

It was a quiet return to Imladris, both of them frayed and rumpled, with the same creased clothes as the night before. As they approached the front gates, Elladan could already see the Dwarven company beginning to gather. They were fed and rested, but Thorin’s gaze was already fixed to the road that would lead them away.

...

He recognized the look Fili gave him; one of curiosity and a hint of worry, but Kili merely shook his head. He would talk with his brother later. But Thorin, oh his uncle looked utterly displeased and disappointed, and in any other situation that look would have hurt. But it felt nothing compared to the pain he felt now when he had to leave Elladan behind. He could no longer kiss or hold the elf, and was forced to leave Elladan with a small nod and a subtle touch of his own wrist, where the bound hair laid hidden.

A promise of return.

Kili dreaded the moment his family would demand answers, but fate had other plans for the company.

Out of Rivendell they went only to be encountered by Mountain Giants and goblins, their path leading down slippery rocks to the dark depths of the cave systems so complicated they almost got lost several times. They barely had the time to breathe the fresh air before orcs were upon them and for the first time ever Kili faced Azog, the one who had killed his family in the past and almost claimed Thorin’s life as well, if it hadn’t been for the hobbit.

Seeing the pale orc in flesh was horrifying; Kili knew he had a little chance of survival should he encounter the pale orc by himself. They had barely managed to escape with the entire company.

Their path lead to Mirkwood and its poisonous spiders and to Thorin’s dismay; more elves. But these were not as welcoming as the ones in Rivendell. Instead they were locked up as prisoners and Kili made acquaintances with another elf; a female called Tauriel. She spoke of starlight and dancing with the fire, and if his mind hadn’t been occupied by another certain elf already, perhaps he would have found her enchanting.

As it was, his mind only returned to Elladan.

The moment an orcis arrow pierced the muscle of his thigh, his thoughts once again returned to the fair elf of Rivendell. How furious Elladan would be if he found out he got injured, how his silver eyes would widen in worry and elvish mix into his words as he spoke. It was with the strength of the memory and promise that Kili pulled through the escape despite the wound and reached Lake Town with the rest of the company.

That’s when the poison hit his system, and he would have perished if it wasn’t for Tauriel and her healing.

Deemed as a burden for his injury, Kili was forced to stay behind in Lake Town while the company ventured to the mountain, and he wasn’t surprised that Fili had told that he’d stay behind as well.

For the first time in what felt like weeks, they could finally take a day to breathe and in Kili’s case, recover.

“I feel guilty for this,” Kili admitted as he sat on the hard couch, a hand resting over the wound. “I worry so many with this, even if the action helped us forward. But I fear I’m never going to hear the end of this.”

...

Since leaving the damned Elven city, it seemed like everything had gone from bad to worse. They’d been captured, imprisoned– their narrow escape at the hands of the bloody Hobbit… Not that Fili had a problem with Bilbo, he liked the little fellow. But the world seemed dark and angry, and Fili felt like he was fighting a dead end.

And his brother saying stupid things like that wasn’t helping!

“Don’t you dare.” Fili stated, his heavy footsteps making the ancient floorboards creak in time with his restless pacing. His voice was grim and flat, and his gaze turned to the window as he spoke. Would their Uncle have reached the mountain by now? And what would be there when he did?

“This isn’t your fault. None of it. Do you understand me?” He added fiercely. With a heavy thud of wool, Fili threw off the cloak he’d been wearing since he’d returned, draping the damp mass of it by the fire to dry. It felt like accepting their situation, when all he wanted to do was rage against the unfairness of it all.

“It was that damned orc! And Uncle had no right to leave you behind. If I have to hear any more of that, I’m going to drown you! This place has plenty of water. Even men aren’t supposed to live on water.”

With roughly caring hands, Fili fixed his brother’s blanket around him, the same way he’d always done. “If Amad saw you like this, she’d beat me for letting you get hurt.” He muttered. “And you’ve been mooning over that elf. Don’t think I haven’t noticed!”

...

At the mention of Elladan, Kili felt the familiar heat rise on his face despite the soreness of his body. It seemed like the elf had control of his heart and body even if said body was struggling against a poison. Perhaps he’d let Elladan know one day.

“This has nothing to do with them,” Kili countered quietly, refusing to meet his brother’s eyes. So they were going to have that talk now, huh? At least there were no curious ears of their company trying to pick up what they were saying. Perhaps he should start with his brother, see how he reacted to the idea.

After all, Fili already knew.

He always did before anyone else.

“I did what I had to in order to get us free, and I was careless enough to not pay attention to my surroundings,” he added, resting his head back against the pillows that thankfully had replaced the walnuts Fili had first placed underneath his head. “And uncle was right. I would only slow them down if I had joined,” he murmured bitterly. He didn’t like it, but he had to admit defeat.

And Fili seemed irritated if the scowl was anything to go by, which made the younger of the two smile a bit. Fili had always had his back, no matter the situation. He couldn’t stay angry at their uncle forever.

“…So what is your opinion of the elf?”

...

Kili was right, of course– there was nothing in the world that would keep Fili mad at their uncle forever. But in the short term? Well, the older brother had inherited the Durin temper, and it wasn’t the first time he and Thorin had been at odds!

It never lasted. His mother always said they were too much alike, too aware of the responsibilities laid on their shoulders, and too willing to take on more when needed. And much too aware that they were the older brothers, and must take care of their siblings. Fili didn’t regret staying behind, and he’d meant what he said : his place was with his brother.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t all but chewing gravel over it!

“You wouldn’t have.” Fili insisted, hunkering down beside his brother’s couch. “Even if I’d have to carry you up the side of the mountain on my back, you wouldn’t have slowed them down. Uncle might have the brains of an orc, but I know better. I know how stubborn you are.”

And how stubborn they were together.

With a grunt, Fili reached for the fireplace poker and gave the flames a vigorous stir, churning the coals back to life with a chorus of crackling pops. “My opinion? They’re an elf. What do you want me to say? Tall, skinny, they all look the same.”

Which wasn’t entirely true. Loyal he might be, but it was a brother’s prerogative to tease! “What is your opinion? Where I see brass, do you see gold?”

...

Knowing his brother, he really would have carried him up the mountain if it had come to that. The thought warmed his soul, and Kili couldn’t help but smile at his brother’s back as he angrily poked the flames back to life. He had compared Fili to fire many times before, and this was one of those times he found himself once again thinking of his brother as the unyielding flames.

Always finding a way through obstacles, no matter what.

And yet, he knew the tone of voice Fili used on him. He had used it many times before when fishing for answers; especially when they had been younger. It’s how Fili got him to spill all of the pranks he had done and instead of reprimanding him, Fili had told him to come get him the next time so he would show how to properly prank another dwarf.

Needless to say, they were a bunch of rascals in their town.

“I suppose so,” he answered after a moment of thought, tilting his head back so he could stare at the dark wood of their ceiling. “I wasn’t expecting it to be honest. Mahal, neither one of us were. But something just… Clicked. Like when Ma used to tell how she knew Pa was the one for her. I think I felt something similar,” Kili admitted tentatively.

...

Fili had seen the way his brother looked at the elf-woman, but he hadn’t had time to dwell or worry much on what it might mean. The pointy eared folk were fair, in their own way. Pale and slender as willow trees, with eyes that were altogether too bright and clear.

But it was an untouchable sort of beauty– and he’d thought his brother had the sense to leave it that way!

Fili’s blond brows beetled in as he looked at Kili, the amusement in his expression quickly swallowed up by doubt and suspicion. He couldn’t mean– no, that wasn’t possible. Mahal knew his brother was prone to flights of curious fancy, just look at how he’d carried on with that elf back in the valley, that prince! But the way Kili was talking about that elf-woman…

Slowly he shook his head, like he was trying to rattle the bits of information around in his head until they made sense. And then again, because it still didn’t!

“Clicked.” He repeated, the braided corners of his golden beard drawn down with his frown. This all sounded much more serious than he’d expected! Blast all elves and their pointy ears!

“Kili, tell me you haven’t done something stupid. That you haven’t gone and lost your heart to an elf!”

...

He had expected some wariness. He had expected some curse words, perhaps his brother accusing him of losing his mind or being bewitched.

But the way he spat out the word ‘elf’ made the hairs stand up on the back of Kili’s neck and he felt an uncomfortable coil in the pit of his stomach, as if he was getting sick. Clearly struggling the younger of the two pushed himself up from the couch, his arms trembling with the strain. He refused to lay down for this conversation, no matter how weak he felt.

Dark eyes blazed despite the tiredness as he met his brother’s gaze, the usually healthy skin now sickly pale and sweaty as he pressed his lips together in a thin line and sucked in a breath through his nose. If he had to fight Fili for this, he would. Not many things would make him raise his voice against his own brother, but this tentative relationship made his protective instincts rise.

“And what if I did? Are you claiming I’ve been put under an elven spell? Or that I’ve hit my head? I know what I felt, nadad. I’ve never felt anything like that in my entire life.”

...

“Lie down, lie down, sand for brains!” Fili said in a rush, reaching out to take his brother’s shoulder before the stubborn fool could get himself any more hurt. “Your elf might have stopped the poison, but you’ve still got a damned hole in you!”

And if conceding defeat (after a fashion, they still had to talk about this!) was the only way to get his brother to keep still? He would. He wouldn’t like it, but some things were just more important.

Like keeping his brother with him.

Fili wasn’t ready to consider how close he had come to losing him, and how raw his nerves still felt.

“I’m not saying any of that– now lie down before you open your blasted wounds again!” With a ragged huff, Fili pushed his brother back against the thick stack of mismatched pillows, his eyes sparking with temper and all but daring him to argue the point.

Kili was his responsibility, as he’d always been. But they were far from home, and Thorin had left them. Someone had to keep him safe… And Fili had already failed his brother once.

Squaring his shoulders, Fili stood up and paced over to the wood pile to grab another log, needing something useful to occupy his hands (more useful that throttling his brother). “Mahal… You’re in love.” He said in disbelief, hefting up the log.

“Explain it to me, nadadith. I’m not saying you haven’t hit your head, but I’ll listen.”

...

He wanted to fight.

He wanted to argue, to make Fili understand what he meant and how he felt. His brother demanding him to lay down and forcibly pushing him back on the couch only added more fuel to the flame, and Kili struggled for a moment before the pain became too much and he had to admit defeat.

His entire body kept shaking as he tugged at his sleeve which covered the gift he had received, searching comfort from the thought of his lover.

Fili hadn’t given up, but at least he seemed willing to listen.

“It began as a joke,” Kili finally sighed, releasing a small hiss as he pressed against his wound to make sure the bandages were not wet, making sure the wound hadn’t opened during his struggles. “But after we spent that night together just talking, it grew into something more. It happened so fast, Fee. It felt right to hold their hand, or feel them close.”

He wasn’t quite ready to admit the kisses yet, Mahal knew his brother would get another fit if he knew an elf had taken his first kiss.

“When we parted, I promised I’d send a word once we reclaim the mountain so we could meet again. Leaving them hurt. The thought of not seeing them again hurt. Every thought of not being able to be with them hurt more than any wound I’ve received.”

He glanced down at his thigh with a wry grimace. “Though I must admit, this is a close second.”

...

Mahal, he didn’t want to hear this! He didn’t want to think about losing his brother to some elf– or anyone else, for that matter!– not when he still looked pale and clammy, and could hardly move for the pain of his wounds. Fili had never known fear like he’d felt over his brother’s sickness, and the shadow of it still hung heavily around him.

But he’d given his word to listen, and so he squared his shoulders, and did as he’d promised.

Them. They. That night together.

I’d send word. Leaving them… Leaving them?

Long before the end of Kili’s explanation, Fili had a terrible sinking feeling. It settled in his belly like a piece of granite, sharp edged and cold with foreboding. Because the elf-woman had barely left, and even a heart like Kili’s couldn’t be aching for her loss so keenly, not so soon!

And the only night they’d spent ‘together’ was in the elven prison– and there had been no jokes there!

Fili’s heartfelt groan was half smothered by the thud-crack of the fresh log he threw on the fire, and the crackle of sparks that raced up the chimney. Even had he wanted to be angry (and he did! It would be so much easier) it was impossible hold onto his ire when Kili called him by his child-name. Manipulative little goblin.

The end of the hard couch creaked when Fili finally sank down on the end, using the excuse of fixing his brother’s blanket over his feet. “And here I thought the elf-maid was the problem!” He muttered, a deep crease between his brows. “But it’s been longer than that, hasn’t it? That prince, in the elven valley. The one you vanished with all night.”

Fili didn’t even want to say it, but loyalty to his brother outweighed all other considerations. “If you weren’t already hurt, Kee, I’d beat you myself!”

He wouldn’t.

“Why in Mahal’s name didn’t you tell me?”

...

Kili blinked tiredly at his brother and it took a while for his sluggish mind to realize what Fili meant. And when he did, he couldn’t help but crack a smile that turned into a laugh which again turned into a wheezing cough. “You thought I had lost my heart to Tauriel?” He gasped between gasps of breath, the familiar light in his eyes returning for a brief moment at the sheer absurdity of the situation.

No wonder Fili had seemed pissed when Tauriel had appeared out of nowhere, even if she did save his life.

Each breath he sucked in hurt like tiny knives carving into his lungs, and he hid the pain as much as he could. He was already hurting Fili, he didn’t want him to worry further. Guilt ate him from the inside, twisting his gut into knots as he thought of how his brother had to feel right now.

“I couldn’t, not at first,” he said softly once he had caught his breath, and with his other hand he reached out to cover Fili’s own in a reassuring gesture. “A part of me wished to keep it to myself for a while so I could get use to the thought as well. As right as it felt, I wasn’t expecting it. I wanted to sort my head first as I had a lot to think about.”

Like how he’d tell his family, how he would make them believe how serious he was about pursuing the relationship that had grown between him and Elladan.

“It began as a joke by the table, try to see how far we could push boundaries before one of our elders would snap and grew into something much more once we were by ourselves. Before we knew it, the night had passed.”

...

It made sense, which all the more hateful because Fili supposed he would have done the same in that situation. Not that he had any intention of falling in love with anyone, much less an elf! But then, his brother certainly hadn’t expected it, either. And you couldn’t control who your heart chose– that was, apparently, the magic of it.

Fili had his doubts.

His expression darkened when Kili’s laughter turned to wheezing, his hand gripping his protectively. If he ever got his hands on the beast that had dared to hurt his little brother, he’d beat him into a pulp and feed him to whatever fell fish lived in this damned lake.

It didn’t matter that there was no way Fili could have stopped it. His brother had been hurt, that was the only thing he cared about.

“Stop laughing, you’ll tear your stitches. And I won’t be the one tying your strings back together!” He would. If he had to. But Fili’s skills with a sewing needle were notoriously bad! He’d probably end up stitching his brother's hand to his belly, or something equally inconvenient!

With a long suffering sigh, he pushed his brother’s hand aside and grabbed the edge of the blanket, peeling it back so he could take a look at the bandages that wound around him.

No blood, thank all the Gods.

“I remember. Dwalin was going to throttle me for letting you leave with him.” Fili cracked the very smallest of smiles, but there was something a little warmer in his voice. Oh, he wasn’t happy, not at all– but there was precious little to be happy about, these days.

“If this elf makes you happy, Kee…” His words clotted in his throat. He wanted to tell his brother that he supported him, that he’d stand by him no matter what. But what if that wasn’t what Kili wanted? Fili coughed and tried to clear his throat.

“Are you planning to live in that valley of his?”

...

“We haven’t thought that far ahead,” Kili chuckled tiredly, his skin breaking into goosebumps as Fili pulled his blanket back. He was getting exhausted and a part of him hated how weak he felt at the moment. He wished to be more useful, to try to get ready to join the others by the mountain but knew he needed more rest before he could do that.

After Fili had checked on the wound, Kili tugged the blanket back up over his shoulders and squirmed a bit to get into a somewhat comfortable position. “We don’t know where this goes or what we’ll do. We just know we both want to pursue this thing we feel,” he said, and for a moment the tired edges of Kili’s eyes softened.

“I wanted to tell you earlier, but there’s little privacy to be had in our company and we didn’t really have the time to stop and talk either. You know I’d never leave without a word, right? Trust me nadad, if my path leads me away from our kingdom sometime in the future, that doesn’t mean you’ll get rid of me. I’ll be that annoying thorn in your arse until grave calls us,” he teased lightly, the corner of his lip rising up into a smirk.

“And even beyond I’m sure I’d find a way to drive your spirit insane, as it’s my duty as your younger brother.”

After all, there was no Kili without Fili. He had grown with his older brother after their father’s passing, and didn’t remember much else than following Fili’s footsteps as a child, as a youth and a young adult. He had always tried to be as good as his brother, and still felt lost when they were apart. Like at the mountains with the giants and the ground had split them apart; Kili had wanted to cry out for Fili, but had frozen in terror.

“Even if I am to find a love, you’ll always be the most important person in my life, Fee.”

He snickered and closed his eyes. “Now let me sleep before I start to spit out more mush at you.”

...

“Hush, sand for brains. Of course I’m not going to be lucky enough to get rid of you. Even the bloody rock giants couldn’t manage it, what chance does one skinny elf?” Fili’s voice was low and gravely with emotion when he tucked his brother’s blanket more securely around him once more.

Tauriel had saved his life. And the prince had given him another reason to keep fighting. Whatever their people might think of elves, Fili knew he’d never be able to hold the same animosity towards them.

“Go to sleep, you’re obviously mad from the pain.”

For a long time after, Fili sat by the hearth, stirring the coals with the blackened end of the poker. From infancy, they’d been raised on the same stories of the kingdom the dragon had claimed. One day, Thorin had said, they would journey to the far mountain to take back their birthright from the beast. To reclaim the halls where he, and their mother, had come into the world.

Fili had never imagined their home, any home, without his brother in it.

But if this elf made Kili happy?

“You couldn’t find a nice Dwarf lass, could you? No, you had to make things hard for yourself. And for me.” He added, since his brother was asleep. For the first time in what seemed like forever, Fili found himself alone with his thoughts. There were no orcs breaking down the doors, or the presence of the rest of the Company.

Just himself, and the crackling hearth, and the sound of his brother’s sleep-quiet breathing.

If his brother loved this elf, it wasn’t the same as losing him to death. And if he knew that Kili was still in the world, and happy? Maybe it wouldn’t be as they wanted, or as they’d planned; but he could be happy for him. He could endure.

So long as he was alive.

Mahal, watch over him. Because it was the only thing that mattered.

...

The poison might be cleared out of his system, but the effects still lingered. If asked, he could not say for certain what had happened next. One minute he was laying on the couch after their talk with his brother and the next thing he knew a dragon flew over the town, lighting it aflame.

The air filled with screams of terror and the scent of burning flesh in minutes and it made Kili’s stomach turn around with nausea.

By some miracle they managed to cross the lake with the boats, and the last thing he saw before passing out was the orange glow of the sky and the earshattering roar of the dragon.

They had thought the worst was over by then, but of course fate had once again other plans for them.

Once they had finally reached the mountain and reunited with their company, they were told Thorin had succumbed to the feared gold sickness. It hurt his heart to see his uncle driven mad by something so mundane, how his eyes were blank and lips constantly muttering out curses and praises towards the gold. No matter what he tried to do or say, Thorin did not listen.

Pale and shaking, Kili sat down to rest and used the chance to write the promised letter to Elladan. Though his heart was heavy, a spark of hope and joy still lit up at the thought of the elf as he scribbled across the paper.

“The mountain has been claimed and I’m more or less in one piece. Rough times ahead, but I’m hoping they’ll be cleared by the time you arrive. Looking forward to seeing you again. I hope you’re doing well, lukhudel.

Kili, son of Durin”

He sent the letter with a raven, and watched wistfully as it flew across the pale sky. Now all he could do was wait, and figure out how to help his uncle. They couldn’t rebuild the kingdom without him.

...

Imladris was quiet.

The weight of it was heavy on Elladan’s shoulders, a millstone around his neck that made it difficult to breathe. How strange it was that a decade of mortal men could pass, and Elladan scarcely noticed it– but every day since the Company had departed from the Last Homely House seemed to stretch on into eternity.

Elrohir had known, from the very moment he’d seen him, that something had changed in his brother. But they had come into the world together, and had even as more of their people left for the boats to the west, he knew where his place was. Eru had crafted them as two halves of a whole, and whole they would stay.

“Gwenur! Tiria!” Elrohir’s voice cut the stillness an instant before the tip of his blade would have caught his twin in the shoulder. With a tight sigh, he sheathed his sword and affectionately cuffed Elladan’s shoulder, “Even in the middle of a fight you’re thinking of nothing but him. Be glad I’m no orc!”

Elladan dragged himself back to the moment, banishing the errant ‘I pray he’s alright’ that had been nagging at the back of his mind for days. It felt like an ill omen to voice it aloud, but he wasn’t surprised his twin had noticed. “Goheno nin, gwenur. My thoughts are elsewhere.”

“Lost in a pair of dark eyes, I think! Ai- Elladan, look.” He interrupted himself and motioned to the sleek black raven circling the valley, spiraling down and down towards them, “It carries a note.”

With a thanks to the bird, Elladan unrolled the note, his hands unsteady with relief. “They’ve taken the mountain.” He explained, his head bowed beneath the sudden rush of air, the first breath he’d taken since Kili had left. He hadn’t forgotten.

“You travel east, then?”

Elladan nodded, and for half a heartbeat, his gaze sought out Elrohir’s in the twilight, “At first light, if Ada gives me leave.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“… Then at noon, after I’ve convinced him.”

Elrohir mirrored his brother’s nod, and nudged his shoulder as they turned back from the training grounds. “We’ll travel through the Greenwood, and see if the rumours are true. Even Ada won’t deny the wisdom in that.”

The ring of steel on steel was deafening, and the air smelled of blood and churned earth. The sons of Elrond had arrived to the valley of Dale to find, not peace, but a gold maddened king barricaded in his mountain and the armies of foul orcs descending on the townspeople. The town on the lake had been laid to waste, and wet ash still smeared the landscape.

The orcs had broken the Elven line early in the battle, their sheer numbers crashing over the forces of the Mirkwood. They splintered through the ruins of Dale like a roaring black sea, slaughtering warriors and terrified townspeople in their wake.

“Why does Thorin not leave his halls?!” Elrohir snapped to his twin, the two of them standing back to back amidst the bloody fray. “These Dwarves, they fight for him, and he’s nowhere to be seen!”

They were a blur of glittering silver steel and grey cloaks, in perfect symmetry as they fought together. “Don’t ask questions I cannot answer!” Elladan countered, his blade slicing passed his brother to block a blow aimed at his head.

Elrohir’s snapped beneath Elladan’s to catch the orc in the belly, gore spilling over the sodden ground. “We have to find higher ground, gwenur! There are just too many of them!”

...

How things had turned from good to the worst, he had no idea.

It seemed as if everything had happened in mere hours; his uncle’s gold sickness, the anger of the people, the elves and orcs at their doors.

He could hear the dying shouts of humans and orcs alike, the clash of steel and the very earth shook underneath their feet. Yet Thorin refused to let them out, refused to open the gates to help the people who were fighting their battles for them. The dwarves could do nothing than stand by the wall in their armors and stare down at the massacre happening on their land, each one itching to get out on the field and protect what was theirs.

It wasn’t until Kili caught the familiar sight of insignia on one of the armors that his heart seized and all breath left his lungs; those elves were from Rivendell which meant there was a chance Elladan was down there.

Despair and fear took control of his body and a flame of rage rose within the dwarf, and he found himself shouting at his uncle, demanding for the gates to be open and for them to be allowed to join the fight. Whether it was his words or something else, there seemed to be clarity back in Thorin’s eyes and in mere minutes, they had joined the war.

Kili fought beside his brother, the two completing each other’s attacks as they took down enemies left and right, blood spilling on the ground. In the back of his mind, Kili worried, fearing his very heart would burst as they ran past the fallen elves begging he would not see the face of his lover on the soiled earth. Their path lead to one of the watchtowers, and as they were rising the stairs Fili froze for a second before turning to his younger brother.

“Go down, I’ll check upstairs.”

“What? Don’t be silly, what if there’s–”

“There’s no time! You need to find the one occupying your mind. Find him, Kili. I’ll be fine.”

Kili hesitated, teeth grit together as his gaze flickered between his brother and the door. A tiny smile was given to him and the brunette turned with a heavy heart, his grip of the sword tightening. It felt as if he was torn apart, having to choose in split second where his heart lead him. Fili had always been by his side, had always helped him and kept him safe. He could handle himself, Kili knew this. But if something was to happen to Fili if he left… But what if something happened to Elladan, something he could prevent?

What if he lost them both because of his hesitation?

With a curse, the dwarf sprint down the hallway but not without a last glance at his brother.

“You better not die on me!”

...

Elven steel cut through stinking orc hides as the twins fought their way up the craggy slope to higher ground. Blood slicked the uneven stones, and the smell of dying orc was even more potent than when they were alive; their foul juices splattering the path. Foot by foot they gained precious ground, leaving a swath of orc bodies in their wake.

Ranged weapons were useless here, but Elladan was grateful for the weight of his bow and quiver on his back; whenever possible, he preferred to pick off orc scum from an elevation.

Elves were immortal, not invincible. And Elladan had no intention of dying that day!

Elladan was breathing hard by the time they reached one of the rocky platforms, the ground scorched in places. It looked like the remains of ancient signal fires– and from this height, the twins could see the tide of the battle. “We need to break their lines of communication.” He said grimly, half concealed by a rock wall as he and Elrohir studied the fighting. “Even with Thorin and his men joining the fight, it may not be enough.”

Ai Valar, let him live…

Even Elven eyes couldn’t make out single figures in the fray; a sole Dwarf in the bloody crowd.

Silently, Elrohir jerked a thumb towards the higher peak, where one of the orcish war machines clacked and rattled, waving signal banners with foul orc sigils. “There, gwenur.”

In unison the twins rose to their feet, and had half turned to the steeper path when their ears caught the sound of steps. The weak, cold sunlight caught on the gleaming arrowhead as Elrohir drew his bow, the arrow leveled at the entrance. This part of the mountain was riddled with holes and tunnels– a bad place to be caught in a fight. “Come out!” He demanded, his arrow never lowering an inch, even when his twin touched his shoulder cautioningly.

They didn’t sound like Orc footsteps…

...

To say Fili was surprised to run into the elven twins would be an understatement. The relief of finding an ally soon turned into horror, however, as the blond realized he had turned his brother into the opposite direction in search of this very elf in front of him.

“Kili went in the opposite direction!” He shouted, running up to the twins. “I thought there to be danger here so I sent him away for his safety!”

—

It was hard to see in the mids of the chaos; everywhere his gaze landed there were only death and suffering, fallen comrades and scattered weapons mixed together with what once had been orcs and Mahal knew what other creatures. The longer it took him to find Elladan, the more desperate the dwarven prince grew as he frantically cut through the enemies, praying with every fiber of his body that his elf remained safe.

Despite his brother’s warnings, Kili had run up the side of the mountain in hopes of gaining more advance towards the battle. There were fewer people fighting on the tilted earth and the old ruins, so he stopped for a moment to catch his breath and hopefully recover a bit of his strength.

His eye caught movement on the left and he barely blocked the swing of a heavy mace, his feet slipping on the loose rocks of the ruins. This orc was larger than the others, his face scarred and lips twisted in a bloodthirsty grin and his heart plummeted as he recognized the orc in question; Bolg, son of the Defiler.

...

Things happened in the pitch of battle, but Elladan hadn’t come all this way– he hadn’t faced the distance, or the desecration of the Mirkwood, just to loose Kili now. If this were one of the ancient tales, he would have rushed off into the fray like Glorfindel or Ecthelion, sword raised to defend the one he loved.

But this was no story. And Elladan had no intention of letting Kili lose him. There was still too much undecided between them, too much distance. Too many aching miles trying to erase the sweet memories of their hasty night together. No– this was not how their story would end.

With unnatural Elven silence, the twins made their way down the incline towards the far side of the fighting. Fili took the path back the way he’d come, intending to cut the orcs off from flanking them. After all, a Dwarf could fight in the close, bottlenecked tunnels more easily than any Elf.

“Gwenur- thír!” Elrohir grabbed his brother’s arm, stopping them both above a steep outcropping. Below, they could see the looming, hideous bulk of Bolg– but more importantly, of the orcs sneaking up the other path.

“A trap.” Elladan whispered, and exchanged a look with his brother. They had always fought side by side, but there was no way they could cover both advances at once.

“Go, save him. I’ll hold off the others, and we’ll double back and rejoin that other dwarf.” Elrohir’s cheek pressed hard to Elladan’s in a single moment of wordless devotion, before they parted.

From Kili’s point of view, there was no warning when the orc suddenly reared back a step, pierced by the keen head of an elven arrow. The shaft quivered with the force, black blood welling up around the dark Rivendell wood. “Ai, ithildinen! I turn away for a moment and find you hanging around this hideous creature?”

In a streak of grey cloak and black hair, Elladan skirted the edge of the wall and dropped down beside Kili, bow drawn and another arrow nocked. As much as he wanted to take in his lover’s face, to prove to himself that he was safe, Elladan didn’t dare take his gaze off the enraged orc.

“Sorry I’m late, there was a lot of ugly in the way.”

...

To say Kili wanted to weep would be an understatement.

The confusion of the orc’s pained roar turned into pure relief and joy as he recognized the sound of the elf who had joined him, as it was hard for him to see properly through the blood that covered his left eye. If it hadn’t been for Elladan’s appearance, he would surely have gotten injured worse than a mere slash on his forehead.

“Things are a lot uglier up here it seems,” Kili responded with a laugh that seemed to irritate the orc even further, for it swung for the both of them. With renewed vigor, the dwarf blocked the strike with ease and cut the creature’s upper arm in progress. It seemed to only fuel his anger as Kili was forced to roll aside to dodge, dirt caking over the blood in progress. At least it slowed the bleeding.

“I wish I could properly greet you but now is not the time– not before we fell this thing. He’s not like the others, so don’t make me lose you now.”

...

There was nothing in the world Elladan hated as much as orcs, and he’d spent much of his life ridding the world of their foul corruption. Bolg, son Azog, had no comprehension of the mistake he’d made by challenging the man Elladan loved, or the mountain the Dwarves had already fought so hard to reclaim.

The second arrow caught the orc in the side of the neck, his corded muscles bunching as he roared in a fury. Like a great beast he squared his shoulders and charged at Kili and Elladan, bristling with arrows, his hideous, flat face set in a snarling rage.

“I’ll put a proper greeting on your account, you can pay the balance of it when we’ve dealt with the vermin!”

Swinging his bow back onto his back, Elladan drew his blade and braced with a deep slash, covering Kili’s rolling dodge. They’d never fought together, but neither man was a stranger to battle, and the drive to protect Kili thrummed hard and fast in Elladan’s veins.

But Bolg was no green recruit, and he knew how to use his towering strength to good advantage.

With a sweep of his massive hand, Bolg caught Elladan by the throat, his filthy fingers locked viciously in place. Elladan slashed back as he was wrenched violently from his feet, but his blade was deflected by a piece of Bolg’s mismatched armor, and the slice wasn’t deep enough to do much harm.

...

“Elladan!”

The dwarf did not think before acting, the impulse, and yearning to keep Elladan safe sending adrenaline through his body as he slammed his entire weight at the orc. Of course, it didn’t even make the filth stumble but at least he paid more attention to Kili now.

“Come on, it’s me you want! You want to wipe out our line? Try starting with me!”

The words fell from his lips with no second thought, his vision zeroing completely on Bolg as he lifted his blade and charged at the creature once again. Bolg released his hold of Elladan, dropping the elf on the ground so he could deflect the incoming attack. The clash of their weapons connecting was deafening and Kili felt his muscles tremble under the weight of each strike, his body still weaker than usual because of the orcish poison he had been hit in during his escape from Mirkwood.

But he did not care and pushed through the pain, leaping from the rock at the orc.

He could not let Elladan suffer because of him.

It all happened so fast that it wasn’t until he tasted copper in his mouth that he realized he had been caught.

A tight grip around his throat made each breath he took feel like a struggle, and the pain he felt through his entire body was white, blinding. He could not scream from agony, the sound gurgling in the back of his throat instead as his other hand released the hold of his sword. His vision swam and he blinked the tears from his eyes, gaze searching for Elladan. Despite his efforts to smile he was rather sure it came out as a grimace, his fingers trembling as he reached out for his elf.

The sound of Bolg’s victorious laugh was drowned under the rush of blood in his ears.

He jerked as the sharp end of the mace was pulled out of his abdomen with a sickening squelch and his body fell limp on the ground, blood seeping between the rocks underneath.

...

Later on, Elladan wouldn’t be able to describe that moment clearly. Time felt suspended and slow as Kili slumped to the ground, blood staining the frost covered stones. He could hear the pounding of his own blood in his ears, deafening and sick. Bolg’s laughter was a hideous thing as he raised his mace, already stained red, and raised it high to finish the elf that had shot him.

Every fragment of his soul screamed for Kili, but Elladan held his place, grim-faced and breathing hard. If he ran to his love now, the only thing it would earn was another trophy for the orc army. And one less person to defend Fili and Elrohir.

As Bolg’s mace swept down, Elladan pushed off from the stones, his body low as he ducked beneath the orc’s weapon, behind the line of his defense. Blood and viscera spilled from the creature’s belly as cold Elven steel slid between the plates of his armor, rending him open like a gutted fish.

“Avo thano rûth vi gûr alfirin!” He hissed under his breath, and orc growled, enraged by the language that scalded his cursed ears.

The mace came down again, but Bolg’s great reach worked against him, and with a wet, choking bellow, he dropped to his knees.

Elladan’s sword clattered beside Kili’s body as he rushed to his side, bloodied fingers searching his neck for a pulse. “Wake up… Wake up!” His voice broke, and frantic hands tried to assess the damage the beast had done. “You can’t die on me, meleth nín… Not after all this. You have to live, and you have to see the end of the battle, so you can walk with your people back into your mountain. You’ve come so far… And you’re so close to the end. You have to live- do you hear me?’

“Wake up!”

(Avo thano rûth vi gûr alfirin! : Never kindle anger in an immortal heart

Meleth nín : my love.)

...

The moment Kili’s consciousness returned, his body seized up in pain and a shaky whine left his cracked lips. His mouth tasted foul and the scent of herbs was strong in the air, making him feel nauseous. He could hear hurried steps approach him but could not make out what the person was saying; however, he felt a cup pressing against his lips and soon bitter liquid slid down his throat, forcing a weak cough and a grimace out of him.

His eyelids felt heavy and his body refused to listen to his command to move, the memories of what had happened foggy as a fleeting dream. He remembered parting from his brother, then ending up against Bolg and… Elladan.

Fear of the unknown sent enough adrenaline through his body for him to struggle into a sitting position and even if the light of the infirmary felt harsh in his eyes he could still see the healers fret around him, telling him to lay back down so his wounds would not open again. A light touch over his stomach told him about the tight bandage keeping his insides where they should be, and his forehead seemed to be stitched as well.

“Elladan, where’s…”

“He’ll be here soon, now that you’re awake.”

The dwarf lifted his head up to meet the relieved gaze of his brother, who limped over to him with braces; his right leg seemed to be in a cast and a bang of guilt shot through Kili. If he had gone with his brother, could he have prevented him from being hurt?

“None of that,” Fili huffed resting his hand over Kili’s head, lightly ruffling his hair. “I can see you’re blaming yourself, but there’s no reason for it. I should be the one who is sorry, I nearly sent you to your death,” he said quietly, fingers trembling as he pulled Kili carefully closer into an awkward hug. “They weren’t sure if you’d wake up again and I couldn’t bear the thought of losing my brother. I’m sorry, Kee.”

“We’re both alive. We’re… all alive?” Kili asked carefully and when Fili nodded, he couldn’t help but chuckle in relief; which in turn sent him wheezing in pain and the healers to once again fret over him, telling him to lay down.

...

The day after the battle had been one of the most frustrating of Elladan’s life. It hadn’t mattered that the sons of Elrond had come to the Dwarves aid in their hour of need, or that they’d saved the lives of Thorin’s nephews. That they’d slain Bolg, son of Azog. Or that they’d stumbled down the side of the mountain along with Fili and the unconscious Kili, the four of them bloodied and leaning against one another.

The Dwarves had taken one glance at the twins, and their Elven features, and the doors had been closed to them.

Wounded and frustrated, the twins had taken shelter with the army from the Mirkwood, grimly patching their wounds and waiting for word from the mountain. Even for an immortal, those hours seemed endless; Elladan could feel the pieces of himself that lingered too close to the edge of death, and prayed to every God individually and by name, that Kili would survive.

It was late in the next day that the twins finally received word from Fili that his brother had awakened, a fierce joy unfolding in Elladan’s chest. He lived, thank the Valar! And with fresh determination, the twins scaled the path to the doors of the lonely mountain once more.

From the Halls of Healing, Kili could hear Elladan’s voice a few hours later, rich with stubborn mirth– and counterpointed by Dwalin’s angry gruffness, and Oin’s clench-jawed terseness. “You can let me in to see him, or I can sit in your tunnels until you grow weary of my presence.” He argued, undaunted by Dwalin’s reddening complexion.

“We’re already tired of you, elf. And we’ve no more need of your services. Stick to your own kind and let us care for ours.”

Fili looked up from his sentry at his brother’s side, and heaved a leaden sigh, “Don’t move, sand for brains,” He admonished, and jabbed his thumb towards the door, “I’ll fetch him for you.” Fili didn’t think his brother could get up, not yet. But he didn’t want Kili tearing out his stitches in the attempt, either!

...

The sound of his lover’s determined if mirthful voice sent Kili’s heart racing and he offered his brother a small nod and a smile before settling back on the bed much to the healers relief.

Elladan was alright.

If he had the strength to speak that way to Dwalin, surely he had been taken care of as well. A memory of Bolg’s hand around his elf’s throat made him shiver unpleasantly, and he had to remind himself that Bolg was dead now, as was the Pale Orc. From what he had heard from his brother, Elladan had felled him only seconds after Kili’s own body had hit the ground.

He could not hear what Fili and the others were talking behind the closed door but from the sound of it, Dwalin was not pleased and couldn’t accept the fact a tree-shagger had saved their prince’s life.

Mahal grant them strength for when they’d find out about their relationship.

The next time the door opened, he was finally faced with the gaze of Elladan and he struggled to sit up again purely out of instinct. He didn’t wish to worry the elf further and wanted to show him he was still breathing thanks to Elladan. With the pulse racing in his ears and his vision a tad foggy, Kili felt small and embarrassed to be in such a vulnerable stage.

This was not a side of him he wished Elladan had to see, weak and pitiful.

Words got stuck in his throat and he licked his dry lips before patting the bed with his hand; an invitation.

“…Hey.”

...

Elladan didn’t care for Dwalin’s insults or his thwarted fury. To him, Elladan would always be the source of inferior (see: non-Dwarven) stock; too tall, too thing, with pointed ears that heard too much, and eyes that were too clear. In the end, it didn’t matter to him if Dwalin’s hate was for him, or every Elf in Arda, so long as he stepped out of the way.

Which he did. Eventually. With a great deal of very black muttering that promised this wasn’t over.

In truth, Elladan had neither heart, nor care, to listen.

His heart felt caught in his throat as he entered the room, the thudding beat mirrored in the pulse in his throat. Even from across the warm, brazier lit room, Kili looked step away from succumbing back to the grave, and the thought of it rested heavily on his chest.

This wasn’t the reunion either of them had planned. Or wanted.

“Mae govannen,” Elladan’s voice sounded soft with disbelief, even to his own ears. A hushed thing, each syllable pushed through the knot in his throat. But he sank down carefully on the side of the bed all the same, one hand mapping across the blankets to find Kili’s. There were tears at the corners of his grey eyes when he looked down at his injuries; his head and torso wrapped in heavy bandages.

“One day this might be a fashionable look, but I don’t like it on you.” He tried to laugh, but that was too soft, too quiet, too. Lifting his free hand, Elladan tenderly brushed a few stray curls away from Kili’s forehead, careful to avoid the black and purple bruises that spilled from beneath the bandages. It would heal. He was alive. The rest would come in time.

“I thought I lost you… By the Valar, Kili… That’s one moment I never experience again.”

...

Gone was the mirth, joy, and curiosity from those silver eyes; replaced by barely contained tears and pain he wished he could wipe away. Instead, he rose a hand to gently brush the falling tear from Elladan’s chin and offered him a tender smile. “You saved me,” he rasped placing his hand over the elf’s own, soaking in the warmth and comfort of his lover.

The healers around them had grown quiet; some watched away respectfully, yet some could not hide the shock on their faces as the two interacted in such familiar terms.

The pain felt dull compared to the relief of having Elladan beside him once again, his head tilting against the gentle touch of his elf’s hand on his forehead. Even the sting of the bruises seemed bittersweet.

“I could not handle the thought of losing you,” he continued quietly as not to break the relieving atmosphere of being together again; if he closed his eyes he could almost pretend there were just the two of them and the soft orange glow from the fires. “When I saw him grab you, I forgot all about my training. Everything I had learned left my mind, I just knew I had to get him to let go of you immediately.”

The memory of that pale hand closed around Elladan’s throat, muscles tensing as it started choking the elf sent an unpleasant shudder through Kili’s body and he allowed his hand to trail up the side of the elf’s neck. “Does it hurt? Are you injured?”

...

Elladan could feel the hot, lingering weight of eyes on the back of his neck. But unlike Dwalin or several of the Dwarves he’d met on his way through the tunnels, the healers seemed more confused than outraged. It didn’t come as much of a surprise; from what Elladan had managed to glean, most of them had come with Dain’s army, and they knew nothing of the merry war that had sparked so much between them.

It was only a matter of time before Oin and Dwalin fetched Thorin from whatever work occupied him.

But none of that seemed to matter when Kili was alive and warm under his hands. Blessings to Eru Illuvatar, who has been so generous to us this day. Two sets of brother had waded into that bloody fray, and all four men had lived; injured, yes, but alive.

“Hush, none of those words.” Elladan’s voice shook with a watery, unguarded laugh, and his fingers curled tightly against his beloved’s chest. “We saved each other, as it should be. Though, in future-” He ignored the stir of embarrassment in his chest, and brushed away his tears with his free hand, “Perhaps we should set our sights a little less ambitious than invading armies.”

Gingerly he tilted his head so Kili could move aside the high collar of his tunic, baring the wicked, black and purple bruises that circled his throat. The span of orc fingers was emblazoned on pale skin, shiny with a sticky salve that smelled of crushed herbs.

“It matters not, it will heal.” Careful not to jostle him, Elladan perched on the edge of his bed and tenderly brushed Kili’s dark curls away from the bandage on his forehead. “We’ll both have new scars to remind us how lucky were are to be here, together. And I’ll be here every day until you’re whole and hale again. Even if that means sneaking passed every Dwarf under the mountain.”

...

“No sneaking will be involved,” Kili promised vehemently, his grip of Elladan’s hand tightening even if, in his own condition, that grip wasn’t as firm as it should have been. “I have no doubt in my mind Thorin will arrive soon to see how I fare. He might still distrust elves, but he’ll be in your debt for saving my life and helping us overcome the orcs. If I ask for it, you will be allowed free pass inside the mountain even if he will grumble about it,” he assured with an amused smile.

There was no way he’d make Elladan sneak around as if they should be ashamed of what they had. They had shared a soft and tender kiss back in Rivendell, a warm moment no one had interrupted and none other than his brother knew of.

But sooner than later he would bring it up with his kin.

His desire to properly court the elf.

The mere thought sent his heart racing and he welcomed the excitement and nervousness of it as it was a reminder they were both alive and one day, healed as well.

The dark bruises again Elladan’s fair skin woke something dark within him, his eyes narrowing as he reached out and gingerly brushed the tips of his fingers over them. The air felt thicker and heavier, the scent of earth and herbs strong around them, his gaze meeting Elladan’s own. “Next time… I’d like you to carry my marks, instead of something foul like this,” he admitted quietly, the corner of his lip twitching into a grin.

...

In the wake of the war, and with the unforgiving march of winter turned inexorably towards the survivors, Elladan could feel the shifting allegiances in the wind. Elves and Dwarves had found common enemy in the corrupted armies of the goblins and orcs– they’d fought together, and the plains beyond the Lonely Mountain would be forever stained with their shed blood.

It had stained the earth red. All red. Human, Dwarf and Elf alike.

When Kili looked up at him, Elladan felt his stomach tense, low and warm, at the intensity in his gaze. A living, visceral reminder that the hot spark between them hadn’t been quenched by distance or time. The bruised skin was feverish under Kili’s fingers, blood pooled beneath the surface to aid the healing.

“All the more reason for us both to mend quickly.” He whispered conspiratorially, not especially wanting to be overheard by the other Dwarves in the room! “It would be poor manners for me to traumatize your good healers by kissing their prince… Although…”

Elladan trailed off a teasing beat, and leaned close to brush his smooth cheek tenderly across Kili’s stubbled one, “How much trouble are you going to get into between now, and when I can tell your uncle that I am still entirely… and hopelessly… yours?”

...

Even in the dim light, he could see Elladan’s pale skin turn a shade of red and he didn’t even try to stop the smirk that spread on his lips, entire too pleased about the knowledge he had remained important to the elf. However, in mere seconds the situation had turned around and Kili felt his own heart skip a beat as the smooth skin brushed against his rougher one, the warm breath over his ear sending a pleasant shiver down his spine.

“So much trouble,” he laughed quietly, not even trying to hide the fact he was openly tilting his head up and nuzzling closer to the elf, their noses brushing against each others in a light tease and to him it felt as if the tension had ratcheted up a notch.

They had almost lost each other, he wasn’t going to pretend there was nothing between them.

“It’s the trouble I’ll gladly walk through with you,” Kili added sliding his hand down Elladan’s arm so he could remove the loose fabric covering his wrist. Underneath, frayed and a bit lose hung the bracelet Elladan had made him of his own dark hair; their own promise of the future.

“I never took it off. The moment you closed it around me, I was yours.”

...

Every place of healing had rules. Important rules that spared the patients from any more pain, and helped speed the mending of whatever ailed them. Wise rules that Elladan had absolutely no intention of heeding, even with the burning weight of the healer’s eyes on the back of his neck.

Not when Kili had worn his token through all the months and miles that had divided them.

“Kili…” He breathed his name like the benediction it felt like, just like he’d said it even night in his prayers since they were parted. Gripping the edge of the bed, Elladan carefully swung his feet up onto, his weight balanced easily on the edge. It had been made for a Dwarf broader than Kili, and there was just enough room to curl in against his side, without jostling his beloved.

“I have missed you every minute we’ve been apart.” Elladan’s eyes half closed as he softly kissed both of Kili’s cheeks. Even the sounds of the other people in the room was vague and distant, unimportant compared to the man beside him. “My father guessed why I wished to leave home so suddenly; but as sad as he was to see us leave, I come with his blessings. So tell me-”

“How does an elf court the prince of Erebor?”

...

The surprised inhale of air and silent murmurs around them fell to deaf ears as Kili carefully positioned himself on the bed beside Elladan, mindful of both of their injuries. The lips felt so warm and comforting against his cold skin and Kili exhaled shakily, covering Elladan’s hand with his own. The words his elf spoke sent the dwarf’s heart racing, teeth nibbling over his lower lip in a nervous habit; he only knew about the courting in theory; he had never given it much thought as he had thought to be alone through his life.

After all, he wasn’t exactly popular on the dwarven scale.

Funnily enough, it seemed like elves enjoyed his presence more.

“Give me a minute, I’m trying to imagine the face your father made when he found out why you left,” he snickered good-naturally to distract himself; after all, he had never in his life heard of an elf who would run away for a dwarf.

An elf prince on top of everything.

“As for courting…” Kili swallowed, feeling his skin crawl as it flushed at the thought. “We’re both princes, so it doesn’t really matter which one of us initiates it. It would have been different had you been a soldier or someone else. The first thing you do is craft a bead of your own and braid it in your intended one’s hair; a public claim and knowledge for others that the person is no longer accepting courting gifts or proposals for others.”

His fingers brushed through Elladan’s hair lightly at the thought, the smile on his lips reaching his eyes. “Yours would be made from silver or perhaps a gem, and I’m assuming mine would be of wood.”

Polar opposites, but oh so perfect.

...

“Ada is far wiser than I am, little truly confounds him. He doesn’t understand my choice, but he could see with his own eyes how happy you make me. And even the Lord of Imladris cannot always know what the heart will choose.” Elladan laughed quietly under his breath, his lean frame stretched out beside Kili’s on a bed that was just wide enough, and much too short. “He was surprised, but sends his blessings to us both.”

Elladan only prayed they’d be as lucky with Thorin.

And Kili’s mother. Ai Valar…

Slowly settling into the space beside him, Elladan tucked one arm under his own dark head, his grey eyes soft in the firelight. The flickering glow did nothing to hide the way his cheeks coloured, or his half-lidded look of exhausted joy. With a sigh, he turned his head into Kili’s touch, letting him comb his fingers through his black hair. The long, Elven braids he’d worn on the battlefield had been unwound, leaving only the daily ones plaited back from his temples, and the smooth strands trickled liquidly through Kili’s fingers.

“Traditionally for Elves, yes… Gifts of silver or wood. I think I know just what I’ll do for yours.” Reaching out, Elladan threaded their free hands together, and drew them to his lips, brushing a lingering kiss across Kili’s knuckles, sealing the smiling promise against his skin. “But you’ll have to wait to see it!”

...

By that moment, Kili had forgotten everything about the world outside of their little bubble. Had it not been to the fact they were both injured, he would have called that moment perfect; almost rivaling their first night together under the stars where the first tender promises had been made. Now they might not have been under the stars but bathing in the glow of the fire, and instead of smelling the fresh air they smelled herbs, but the promise felt as strong as the one they made all those months ago.

Of course, that was the moment they were interrupted as a very nervous-looking dwarf stepped beside them and cleared their throats.

“I’m very sorry to interrupt your… moment, but we need to re-dress your wounds, my prince.”

The thought was unpleasant for several reasons; he didn’t wish for Elladan to see how mangled his body looked like, and he hadn’t seen himself either. The fear that the injuries were more severe than he felt wormed their way into his brain and Kili sat up gingerly, his teeth grit together to keep the pained huff inside.

A quick glance down told him the reason for the urgent re-dressing, as the fabric had started to stain red. Most likely some of the stitches were still bleeding, especially since he had been moving around so much despite the protests.

“You might want to step outside for this,” he said quietly, offering the elf an understanding if uncertain smile. “I don’t think this will be pretty.”

...

Elladan rose to his feet in a single, liquid moment when the healer approached the bedside, his cheeks flushed pink at the interruption. It was too easy to get completely wrapped up in Kili, and he suspected his beloved felt the same way. His brother would never let him hear the end of it if he found out Elladan had let a dwarf sneak up on him because he was entranced by the flickering firelight in Kili’s dark eyes.

His expression turned solemn as he saw the blood slowly seeping through the bandages, and the razor-clawed fear twisted in his belly once more. “And sit outside, hoping I come back to find you in one piece? The last time I let you out of my sight, this happened– it’s going to be some time before I take that chance again!”

The healer couldn’t see the way his fingers tightened at his side, his mouth set with stubborn resolve.

“My father is a renowned healer, I’ve spent most of my life around the Halls of Healing.” He added, half to the healer who looked like she was trying to find an excuse to evict the elf from her patient’s side. “I neither faint at the sight of blood, nor intend to interfere with his care… But don’t ask me to leave him.”

The healer’s eyes widened in surprise, taking in the earnestness in Elladan’s grey gaze. With a resigned huff, won over despite herself, she motioned to a space by the wall, and planted her hand on her hip, “Over there, then. And not a peep out of you!”

...

The words Elladan spoke woke up a new kind of warmth within the dwarf; it coiled around his chest like a warm hug, earnest and comforting and caring. He had not heard anyone aside his own family speak about him with such passion and as embarrassing as it was, Kili felt his eyes burn with unshed tears.

Elladan was truly turning him into a huge softie, wasn’t he?

“I’m not going to argue against that,” was his watery response accompanied with a chuckle, his gaze averted on his hands which rested over his lap. He didn’t want Elladan or the other dwarves to see just how much of an effect Elladan had on him, even if he had a feeling the elf himself knew.

He complied with the healer’s nudges and words without complaining, though he could not stop the small hiss as the fabric was peeled from his wet skin. As he had thought, part of the stitches had ripped a tad; not enough to be dangerous but definitely enough to bleed and cause him discomfort. The unhappy mutters of the healer merely made his own lip quick up and he finally met Elladan’s gaze with his own, shrugging his shoulders in a rather sheepish way.

His fingers clutched at the sheets as a salve was smeared over the cleaned wound and he breathed rapidly through his nose, biting back low curses of his native tongue. His skin felt as if it was on fire, making it very hard for him not to wipe the skin clean with his hand.

“Next time, wait until I’m asleep or unconscious before doing this!”

...

“I would rather hear you complain! If you have enough strength to protest the quality of your excellent care–” The healer chuckled under her breath, and rolled her eyes at Kili as if to say, ‘elves are strange sorts!’ “–Then you must be on your way to mending.”

From his place at the wall, Elladan had a half view of the woman changing Kili’s bandages and setting him to right again, the astringent scent of the healing balm filling the air and burning the back of his nose. It smelled like potent stuff, and watching her work was a welcome distraction from the lingering fear of losing the stubborn dwarf that had so captured his heart.

Elladan had never expected to find love. Now he could scarcely take his eyes off him.

When the healer had finished her work, and giving Kili a strict admonishment for wriggling around too much, Elladan hurried back over to his bedside with a rueful, relieved smile. “Peace, be gentle with yourself!” The words were punctuated with a breathy laugh as Elladan caught both of Kili’s hands and brought them to his mouth. His lips were warm against his knuckles– and had the added benefit of stopping Kili from actually trying to wipe away the salve.

“Be still a moment and let it work. I’ll bring you something of our own medicine tomorrow, and see if you prefer it– but for now, rest. And if you cannot-” Elladan smiled against his fingers mischievously, “You can translate all you just said. How funny that curses in your tongue sound so similar to ones in mine!”

...

“I’m afraid your ears would drop off if I were to translate what blasphemy I just spoke!” Kili laughed between grit teeth, trying to focus his attention on the feeling of Elladan’s fingers around his own and the warm lips pressing against his skin. By now, he no longer cared if the healers saw; they would have to be both blind and deaf to not realize something deeper ran between the two than just friendship.

The stinging and burning of his skin did not ease up for what felt like hours but were only several minutes, and once it finally began to subdue the dwarf relaxed with a relieved sigh. He acknowledged the healer saying that they would have to wait for it all to dry before redressing the wound but now that the pain was gone, all he could focus on was Elladan.

“I’m thankful that you’re staying by my side,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. Within their kin, it was not a weakness to be hurt in a war, but the remaining scars would always be a reminder that while he lived, he had not been strong enough to protect those he cared for. While some looked upon them as a mark of war, something to be proud of, Kili himself felt great shame for allowing Elladan to be hurt in the first place.

“I hope you do not think of me as weak for being injured so badly; I promise I can protect you.”

...

Of all the things Elladan expected to hear, an apology was nowhere on that list! In confusion, he sank down carefully on the edge of the bed, Kili’s hands still safely folded in his own. “Hush, I want none of those words. Neither of us could have defeated Bolg without the other– do you ask me to linger in shame because you were injured?”

Somehow, Elladan didn’t think he would.

The speculating gazes of the healers had become nothing more that a vague annoyance, hovering at the edges of his awareness. It was something he couldn’t entirely turn off, not when he was in a strange place; and especially one so filled with Dwarves that may take offense to his presence here. Valar knew things hadn’t always gone well between their people.

“We’re stronger together, but nobody is infallible in battle. You lived, Kili… Nothing else matters to me.”

Elladan would never forget the fear kindled in his soul when he, Elrohir and Fili had carried Kili’s body down the rocky mountainside; or the blood that had slicked their hands and stained their boots. Clasping their hands more tightly, Elladan leaned down to rest their foreheads together, careful of the bandages wrapped about Kili’s head.

“Love me, and mend.” He murmured, smiling, “When you’re well, I’ll ask your uncle for his blessing. Then the world will know what I’ve known from the night we met– I am yours, for always.”

...

The elves’ words were followed by the nearly scandalized gasps of the healers; a sound that soon turned into awkward coughs and shuffling as they finally decided that perhaps it would be for the best to give the two some privacy. Perhaps later he would be embarrassed how open the two of them had been despite their company but for now, he could not focus on anything or anyone else than Elladan.

The other did not think of him as weak or a burden and that was such a relief to hear that the dwarf couldn’t help but chuckle and close his eyes as he embraced the other with his less wounded arm.

“You’re too good for me,” he murmured fondly, breathing in deeply the other’s scent through the smell of herbs and dirt and finding comfort in it. “The healing will take a while and I’m not certain when I’ll be released from this wing but will you wait for me?”

The dwarf understood if Elladan had other duties to return to; after all, he was also a prince. As much as he wanted to keep the elf beside him, he would never forgive himself if Elladan got left behind in his duties or whatnot.

On the other hand, he was allowed to be a bit selfish, right?

They had quite literally just gone through hell, and he could not imagine what had been going on in Elladan’s mind while he had been unconscious.

“Do you think they would give us the glare if we were to ask for a bed to be made next to me?”

...

“Oh Kili…” Elladan’s voice was soft, the adoring sigh wrapped around his name like a benediction. “I will wait for you unto the end of the world, if I must. And while I wait-” With a teasing smile, Elladan gathered Kili’s broad, strong hand between his own slender ones, and brought his fingers to his lips.

“I will come visit you every day, and I shall bring you news of what happens outside your healing halls. Of the rebuilding of your beautiful city, and the peace Elrohir and I are determined to foster between our people. I foresee a future where loving you keeps me very busy… But not out of trouble, naturally!”

He’d almost lost Kili once, and even now– sitting on the edge of his bed, hand in hand, with the future uncertain ahead of them, Elladan couldn’t quell the bright joy that kindled hotly in his chest.

Kili was alive. And they were together.

The rest of the world– Elf and Dwarf alike– would simply have to learn to accept that.

Laughing quietly against his knuckles, Elladan looked down at Kili across their joined hands, and pressed a kiss to the hollow of his palm for safekeeping, “Let me stay with my brother, that we may find some way of making ourselves useful to your Uncle. It can be your incentive to heal– the sooner you’re freed from this place, the sooner I can sleep at your side.”

...

As much as he had thought Elladan would say those words, the dwarf couldn’t help the way his lips pulled into a small pout; he disliked it at the healing wing with the overly fussing healers and brother and whatnot. But in a way he understood; had the situation been reversed, he’d be fussing over his brother or Elladan just as much. As it were, he was the one majorly injured so he just had to go through it.

The way Elladan’s warm lips glided over his fingers brought him comfort and Kili smiled as he brushed one of his fingers down the elf’s jawline. “You have valid reasoning but I’ll still yearn to be beside you every night,” he promised, the thought alone sending a thrill of excitement up his spine.

After his recovery, they could truly share a bed for the first time. He longed to see what Elladan looked like in the mornings, how his voice sounded after a good nights sleep and had he had the strength his mind would have come up with several more noises he would love to learn to hear but as it was, he was beginning to feel the strain on his body as his eyelids grew heavier.

“I’m afraid I cannot fight sleep any longer,” he apologized, his words beginning to slur together. He knew he’d be alone in mere minutes but clung onto the elf nevertheless, prolonging their contact together for at least one more second.

“Help me lay down?”

...

With warm, careful hands, Elladan helped Kili more comfortably into his bed, and smoothed the blankets straight over him. “Sleep is what your body needs to heal. And the sooner you are well, the sooner we can make up for all these months of lost time.” He whispered cheekily, for Kili’s ears alone.

Best not to scandalize the healers too much more!

He waited until his beloved had drifted into sleep, hands joined over the blankets. He’d come so close to losing him… Even now, knowing he was safe and mending, Elladan watched the sleep-slow rise and fall of his chest, and let his fingers linger over the steady thud of his pulse, letting the proof of his life soothe a little of the ice in his belly that was taking an age to thaw.

“I’ll return later.” He said to the healers before he departed, bowing low and respectfully (which made the elder smile reluctantly, and the younger flush pink).

Elladan was certain that word of their meeting would have reached Thorin before long, if it hadn’t already. The thought stirred something nervous beside the ice, but the alternative had been not to see Kili. Impossible.

One day slipped into two, and five, the passing of time marked by their brief visits. During the days the twins lent their hands to whatever jobs the dwarves needed done. Sometimes that meant moving stones from the grand entrance (a job assigned to embarrass– and which the twins had performed capably, without complaint, much to the grudging surprise and respect of their overseer!). And on others, they traveled out into the valley in search of fish and game, as the survivors of the war began to stock for the approaching winter.

By night they stayed with Thranduil’s camp, until the elves began to depart once more for the Mirkwood.

Elladan’s visits to the halls of healing were short but lively, bringing stories of the repairs and the world outside like mountain. And by the fifth day, even the old healer with the gimlet eye, had softened his grudging scowl.

His world felt suspended, waiting for Kili to heal enough to be allowed out of the infirmary. By now, Elladan was sure that Thorin knew.. And yet, the Dwarf king hadn’t spoken a word to him.

“Thranduil’s people leave with the dawn.” Elladan relayed during his daily visit, his light frame perched on the edge of Kili’s bed. “But the people of the lake have generously offered to let us stay with them a time. So you see?” He lifted their joined hands to punctuate the words with a kiss to his knuckles, “You’ll not be rid of me yet.”

...

“I’ll try to get you both inside the mountain as soon as I can,” Kili promised with a bright smile, feeling the familiar fondness towards the elf as the other kissed his knuckles. Elladan hadn’t been the only one telling him stories from the outside world; his brother visited often and always brought new stories of how the dwarves had tried so hard to chase the elves away with tasks that were not fit for them, and how despite the dislike towards them the twins had done their jobs gladly and without complaining.

It was sort of hilarious that two young elves acted more mature than older dwarves.

But he knew some of the dwarves were softening towards Elladan in particular as his visits to the healing wing were not a secret anymore and the rumors had started to grow wings around them as dwarves around the castle begun to wonder what was going on behind the closed doors.

During those days Kili’s strength begun to return slowly.

He was cleared from any mortal danger as it seemed like no infection was taking place inside his wounds; he’d just have to be careful not to rip his stitches and not hit his head anywhere for the next months. It would still take a couple of days before he’d be released, but his spirit was high despite the discomfort.

How could it not be, when he had Elladan beside him?

His fingers stroked through the elf’s dark locks and he smiled as he watched them slip across his skin.

“I must admit I’m starting to feel very impatient laying here every day. I wish to join the rebuilding as soon as possible.”

...

The Elven folk were never meant to live beneath the ground, and Elladan was still disconcertingly aware of the sheer tonnage of raw stone above his head. An impenetrable wall between him, and the stars. But every day the path from the entrance to the halls of healing became a little more comfortable, and the faces of the Dwarves, more familiar.

It was a relief, for when Thranduil’s company returned home in the morning, there would be none of their own people left in the valley. Rivendell was far due west, and Lorien in the south-west, further still. But they had one another, and during their long years among the Dunedain, that had been enough.

It was still enough.

“Soon, my dear, stubborn heart! You’ll be free long before the first snow, and I swear, we’ll leave some of the rebuilding for you.” Elladan laughed, and turned his head to press a kiss to the heel of Kili’s hand, his mouth curved in a smile. “But since you’ve been so patient, shall I tell you the news I overheard when I arrived today?”

During his second visit, one of the healers had set a chair at Kili’s bedside, but Elladan – contrary by nature– had always chosen to perch at the edge of the bed. One foot tucked behind his knee, he let Kili comb his fingers through his long fall of black hair, the soft edges tickling the side of his neck when Elladan leaned down to kiss his cheeks.

“Ravens travel faster than those of us on land. And your mother sends word that they’ve left Ered Luin, and begun the trek home.”

...

The news of his mother’s arrival made him feel several things at once.

Joy, for he would soon be reunited with his entire family.

Relief, for his mother’s good health.

And dread, for he was sure his mother would have his head as soon as she heard what had happened. Not to mention the rumors that were floating around Erebor about him and the certain elf. He just hoped Dis would not scare Elladan away.

While Dis was more openminded and relaxed than Thorin, she still made grown dwarves shake in their boots when she got angry or demanded answers. The two brothers had been on the receiving end of her wrath more than once.

“My mother can be intimidating at times, and I’m sure there’s a lot she wishes to know,” Kili warned his lover, his brows furrowed a bit in thought. “No doubt she’s going to whack the back of my head for acting recklessly, not to mention I’ve gone and fallen for an elf. I just hope you can handle her,” he winced shaking his head a bit, which only made him feel a tad nauseated; a sign he was on his way to recovery, as it didn’t make him cry out anymore.

“What about your father and brother? Are they still by your side and approve of your decision to be here with me?”

...

Time healed all things, from the rift between the people of the mountain and those who lived in Dale (a slow healing wound, but it had begun to knit), to the hurts of those who had been injured in the war. It took longer than anyone wanted, but eventually; with good medicine and patience; the last of the wounded prepared to be released back into the wider world.

They all had a few new scars for their trouble, but they lived; and in the end, that was more important than anything else.

“We’re almost there.” Elladan laughed under his breath as he and Kili made their way through the long, winding tunnels. It was maze beneath the mountain, but as the weeks had passed, Elladan had learned to find his way about. Living beneath the stone still didn’t feel right, but as the temperature dropped outside? He couldn’t help but be grateful for the heavy, insulating rock walls.

And he knew the path to Kili’s chambers by heart; mostly because he, Fili and Elrohir had been cleaning and straightening them in anticipation of Kili’s release.

“Just around another corner, it’s not far now. You should be glad I’m walking with you; Ori was suggesting you’d be better off ferried about in a wheelbarrow!”

...

“Ori’s being overprotective; he’s almost worse than my brother!”

The dwarf laughed as he followed after Elladan, his heart racing with excitement and joy to finally be able to walk freely through the many tunnels of Erebor. Too many painstakingly slow weeks had passed in the healing wing and he was sure that if he’d had to stay for one more day he’d lose his mind. Elladan had already done his best to keep him entertained during his recovery, and it felt unfair to ask him for more.

To finally be able to explore without having to worry about his injuries and fully understand how far their journey had brought them felt mindblowing, and he still struggled to grasp the idea of being an official prince after the coronation.

“You seem awfully eager to show me my own chambers; are you that desperate to get me to yourself?” He teased lightly, brushing a light touch down Elladan’s spine; a mere tease.

Of course, he was curious to see what his new living place would look like but in all honesty, all he could think about was having some time alone with Elladan away from the prying eyes of his family or the healers.

...

They were a long way from that quiet forest beyond the light of Imladris. And yet, despite the distance, and the war, and the sidelong glances they got from every Dwarf they passed? Kili’s hand on his back still made Elladan’s skin feel warm and alive.

“Could you blame me?” He laughed cheerfully, his delight at being with Kili (and without the constant presence of the healers!) written clearly in every line of his body. It was in the way he leaned into Kili’s space, drawn by the gravity and magnetism of him; and the way he smiled, like the world was made just a bit better because Kili was there.

“I’ve traveled all this way to be with you, and so far the healers have spent more time with you than I have! We both have much time to make up for.”

And now that they were both here, and the orcs dispatched, they had the time to do it.

Reaching Kili’s new chambers, Elladan reached for the door, hand hovering above the handle playfully, trying to hide the nerves that lurked behind his grey eyes. “If you don’t like it, we’ll move you to another set. There’s no shortage of room beneath the mountain, my prince.”

The rooms were at the edge of the mountain face, instead of buried deep in the heart of the stone. And unlike the other rooms, this one was lit, not with torches and braziers, but by the gleam of late autumn sunshine. The main room was a small, cosy space with a wide hearth and worn, comfortable furniture that had obviously been raided from elsewhere in the mountain. An archway lead through to what must be a bedroom, but it was dark.

But the main chamber was dominated by a strange thing– well, a strange thing for a Dwarven city.

One wall looked as though it had taken damage, but the stonework had been carefully shored up and repaired. But instead of simply rebuilding the wall, the open space had been filled with with panes of leaded glass.

From here, Kili could look down the side of the mountain and across the vast plain, all the way to the glimmering lake– as blue as the clear autumn sky overhead.

A window to the sky, in a very Dwarven home.

...

Whatever he had expected his chamber to look like, it definitely wasn’t this.

For several minutes Kili could only gape silently as he slowly circled the room, fingers brushing over the worn furniture and the doorway to his bedroom. It was almost too much for someone who had spent most of his life sharing a small room with his brother in a small house, and now his chamber alone was larger than their house had been.

This would be his place now.

His home.

But what really drew his attention was the large window, keen eyes inspecting every small detail on the glass and the view behind it. He was sure no one else had a chamber like this; dwarves had no use for such large windows nor glass, preferring to keep small holes on the walls instead. The view was absolutely breathtaking and the way his chamber bathed in the golden light made him feel warm and fuzzy; as if the war had never happened.

“Did you do this?” He asked softly, turning to look at his lover with fond eyes, fearing his heart might actually give out under how much love he felt towards the elf.

...

Even with Fili and Elrohir’s reassurances, Elladan had felt like he’d been sitting on pins and needles, waiting for Kili to see the room they’d prepared for him. It was a strange room for a Dwarf– but then, wasn’t it strange for a Dwarf to be in love with an Elf?

From the doorway, he watched his beloved survey the chambers with an unreadable expression, moving from furniture to window to door, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing!

“With help.” Elladan’s voice nearly broke, his usually confident chatter turned tight with nerves. “The people of Dale wanted to thank Elrohir and I for all our help, but they have so little right now, we refused. But they’re a proud people…” He sketched a smile, and leaned back against the door frame, his fingers tap-tapping lightly on his thigh.

“They’re rebuilding but much of the city is still in shambles. The glass was part of a building that couldn’t be saved. They had no use for it–” He paused a beat, and finally looked over at Kili, meeting his gaze, “But it seemed a perfect solution to a space of our own.”

...

Space of our own.

Those simple words resonated with his heart, making it flutter like the wings of a butterfly. The thought and knowledge that Elladan had worked all this time to make this a place for the two of them made him feel nearly high with happiness and elation. Of course, he’d have to remember to thank the townspeople as well for their donation; truly, this was a chamber fit for the two princes.

So different, yet matching together almost perfectly.

He did not even try to stop the smile that spread on his lips as he closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around Elladan tightly. He was allowed to have this; to be with Elladan, build a life together with the elven prince. They had gone through literal hell to get to this point but Mahal, was it worth it.

“It’s absolutely perfect for us. Thank you.”

Kili rose on his toes and pressed his lips lightly over Elladan’s, winding his arms around the elf’s neck for support. He yearned this; he wanted Elladan to remain with him, make a home with him. Wanted to make the courting gift and claim the elf as his own, wanted to make them official so all the people would know not to touch what was his.

...

Elladan had never expected to find someone to love. He and Elrohir were too different from the caste of their people; too wild, too influenced by the eclipsed human blood in their veins. Their birth gave them noble standing and graces, but it could not undo their mischief, or the Númenorean blood in their veins.

But Kili was no elf. And twice as impossible as any elven maid or human beloved.

“Thank the Valar for that. I wasn’t sure what you’d make of it!” Elladan heaved a breathless, sighing laugh, and leaned over to meet Kili halfway in a long overdue kiss. “Dwalin and the others helped us bring the glass up the side of the mountain, but he kept looking at me like I’d planned to move you into a talan, like a bird, instead of perfectly safe behind your own stones.”

Elladan grinned for the first time that day, his whole expression alight with relief, and incandescently happy to have Kili where he belonged (chiefly, out of the halls of healing!) “Everyone is going to want to hear the story of what happened on Weathertop tonight. Our brothers and I have refused to tell the tale until you were free of the healers.”

“There are a dozen young things that think you’re quite the dashing hero. Wisdom says I should enjoy the time I have alone with you, before they try to steal you away!”

...

“I’m no hero,” Kili said quietly, fingers twisting and playing with the fabric of Elladan’s robes. He had never considered himself a hero, and what he had done on Weathertop that day was only a desperate fight for survival, for keeping Elladan alive. There was nothing heroic in the way he let the orc pierce through him.

But who knew what sort of heroic tales those youngsters were already spreading around.

“I used to enjoy stories from the war; I suppose in a way, I thought the way those youngsters do now. However, I never thought it would be like this for those who survived. That desperate, fleeting moment one clings to own life… There’s nothing heroic about that.”

It was a sobering though. After all, dwarves prided themselves about their scars and survival but did they all also feel this heavy weight upon them? Did they stare death in the eye, and fear for that second?

“You’re right about one thing, though,” he chuckled, stealing another kiss from Elladan’s lips. “We should make the best of the time we have together now before the party, and not dwell on what happened. So, what do you want to do?” The question was asked with a slow brush of finger down Elladan’s neck, feeling the smooth skin under his fingertips as a slow grin spread on his lips.

“I personally have a couple of suggestions.”

...

“Nobody feels like a hero from this side, ithildinen, we’re too aware of how afraid we were at the time.”

It was one of the wisest things his father had ever told him, a long time ago when the twins were still young and grieving the mother’s leaving. It hadn’t seemed fair at the time; they’d rescued her, they’d saved her. Heroes weren’t supposed to be left behind at the end of the story.

Heroes existed in stories, not in life.

Elladan smiled against Kili’s mouth, before pulling him over to the low, comfortable couch he and Fili had dragged into the room earlier that day. “You’re the one that’s been trapped under the care of the good healers; so long as we’re together, I am entirely at my lord’s convenience!”

Sinking down onto the couch, Elladan reached for Kili’s hand, their fingers curling together like they’d been fashioned to fit that way. “I still can hardly believe that we’re both here.” He admitted ruefully, folding Kili’s hand between both of his own.

“I know this won’t be easy, but here we are. And with the blessing of most of our families. There were so many times that I was afraid I’d dreamed you.” His smile mirrored his beloved’s, as he lavished kisses over his fingers, “Now I have you, and I can believe that you’re real.”

...

“You already have me, there’s no reason to try to steal my heart again,” Kili murmured a tad flustered, his skin tingling under the gentle kisses. It felt odd to be treated like he was something fragile, something that could break if held on too tightly but he had to admit it was not a bad sensation.

The would only have mere hours before they’d be whisked away once again, but at least he could steal moments with Elladan at the celebration; it’s not like they had to be hiding as people were already talking, and as soon as he’d get the bead done for Elladan’s hair he would publicly claim the elf as his own.

The mere thought sent his heart racing.

“I wonder if this celebration will be a repetition from our first one,” he teased, thumb running over Elladan’s knuckles. “It’s hard to wrap my mind around the fact that one evening gave us such a bright future.”

...

In short order, their brothers would probably be looking for them; Fili because he worried, and his little brother had been stuck in the Halls of Healing for weeks, and Elrohir because he was curious about the dwarven man that had so capture Elladan’s heart.

But for now, for just a few moments, Elladan didn’t have to share him with anyone.

“There are many worse things it could be! Though, if it is? I refuse to let you leave the table with any mischievous other elves!” The couch was comfortable as they sank down into the pillows, Elladan’s body half twisted to the side so he could lean into Kili’s chest, careful not to jostle his still tender injuries.

Slowly he unfolded his fingers to thread their hands together, squeezing down to make sure (without a doubt!) that he was real. Elladan could scarcely believe it, after all they’d been through. It seemed a little impossible that all could have come right.

“Truthfully, I’m not sure what to expect from your people tonight.” With a grin, Elladan leaned in to kiss the side of Kili’s neck, before sliding down to rest his head on his shoulder, breathing in the smell of sweat and healing herbs that clung to his skin, “But I find myself impatient to find out!”

...

“I’m assuming you’ve never been to a dwarven party before,” Kili grinned, his skin still prickling with goosebumps from the kiss Elladan had placed on the side of his neck. He shifted carefully so he could wrap his arm around the elf’s waist, absently rubbing his fingers in slow circles against the fabric of his robes.

The couch was definitely from the people of Lake Town; it was long enough to fit the two of them easily and the soft fabric was not something he had seen on the dwarven furniture before.

“I can already warn you that it’s a lot more noisy and boisterous than the celebration you’re used to,” he chuckled brushing his lips tenderly over Elladan’s forehead, the smooth hair tickling his lips. “Our race is rowdy and loud and have basically no shame, especially where ale is involved. And this is the first celebration of Erebor so it’s safe to assume it’s going to be very grand and last well through the night; if not to the following day!”

His eyes shone with mischief, fingers prodding at his lover’s side. “No one blames you if it’s too much and you wish to retire early.”

...

“This sounds like a familiar taunt, I’m sure I’ve heard it before!”

It had been an exhausting few weeks, from the long trek out of Rivendell and across the mountains, to the pitch of battle, and the long healing afterwards. Even an immortal elf (perhaps especially this immortal elf!) could grow impatient with the slowness of it all.

A loud, raucous celebration sounded like just the things to liven the routine they’d all fallen into. A bit of a change, since there was no time to rest before winter came.

With a shallow yawn, Elladan stretched out his long legs and draped against Kili’s side, molded in warm beneath the weight of his beloved’s arm. “I’m not so delicate I can’t handle a little noise– as well you know! Unless you’ve forgotten than you still owe me a kiss from the last time I beat you.”

“No, if I leave the reveling early, it’ll be because I can’t keep my hands away from you any longer. And there are things it would be impolite to do in front of your family!”

...

The mental images Elladan was planting in his head brought a fresh layer of blush on his skin, his lips parting a bit in surprise from the words. Sure, the two had shared several kisses throughout their time together but it had never escalated further than that. Granted, usually the time was against them but perhaps soon they’d have the opportunity to explore further.

“You’re making it very hard for me to find a reason to go to this party, and not lock you up here with me just so you could make good of your words, you tease,” he murmured roughly, fingers tightening their hold of Elladan’s robe, a low noise vibrating from his chest.

Dwarves were known for being impatient; if Elladan kept teasing him this way, he wouldn’t be responsible for what happened next.

“You’re toying with fire, my dear,” he added, propping himself on his elbow so he could press a light, teasing kiss on the elf’s lips.

...

For the first time since they’d met, Kili and Elladan were truly alone.

There were no healer’s here, watching with disapproving glances. Or the rest of the Dwarven company laughing at what they thought was a joke, or scowling darkly when they began to suspect it wasn’t. There were no brothers vying for their attention, and no stolen hours– come morning, neither of them would be leaving.

No more distance. Not more waiting. No more enforced separation.

“And miss the chance to watch the whole of Erebor hanging on the tale you and Fili have to tell? I’m not such a fool!” Elladan shifted under the weight of Kili’s arm, his long, lean body stretched across the couch and draped artfully against his beloved’s chest. This, he thought with a boyish grin, was something he fully intended to get used to.

One kiss melted into two, and five, and fifty; the world contracting down blissfully until it was only the two of them, and the hot slide of Kili’s mouth against his own. “Toying with it?” He asked between kisses, his tone breathless and lilted with amusement, “I rather thought I was encouraging it. But, of course… If you’re too terribly injured still, I’ll behave and keep my hands to myself…!”

...

Each kiss lasted a tad longer than the other, and with each passing kiss, Kili began to feel more and more lightheaded. Each inhale felt too short to relieve the craving of air to his lungs, but he could not care less; not when their lips claimed each other over and over again, their breath mingling together.

“Don’t you dare,” Kili threatened breathlessly, fingers tightening their hold of Elladan’s robes as if physically preventing the other from leaving. He had no clue whether minutes or hours had passed during their embrace yet he knew he craved for more; a fire had been lit inside of him and each kiss poured more fuel to the growing flames. When he had deemed Elladan’s lips kissed enough, he tilted his head so he could brush his nose against the elf’s ear, catching the lobe between his teeth with a low, rumbling growl.

“Unless you’re afraid you’re not… what did you say back in Rivendell again? Skilled enough to make a mess out of me?”

...

Elladan wasn’t entirely sure when they’d slid down on the couch, chest to chest and legs tangled together– but he couldn’t bring himself to care about something so small, not when Kili’s breath was ghosting across his neck, sending shivers down his spine.

“I don’t know if I have the.. skills… But I’m a quick study.” He promised, his voice coloured with breathless amusement, “Being a mess may prove a bit of a trouble, since they’re.. ohh…”

With a tilt of his head and a low shudder, Elladan half flinched away from the sharpness of Kili’s teeth on his pointed ear. “Careful, ithildinen…”

“They’re going to be expecting us down in the hall soon, and I’m not sure this–” Elladan was fairly sure his argument would be a lot more convincing if the words weren’t punctuated with kisses. But it felt like they’d been waiting forever; an eternity of too-little time and chaperoning healers. “If we show up disheveled, they’ll think I’m only with you because you’re beautiful!”

...

“Mahal, are you going to continue speaking such poetry to me for the rest of our lives?” Kili chuckled breathlessly, trailing small kisses down from Elladan’s ear to his neck, giving the skin a tiny nip. “Because I could get used to that.”

Clearly, he did not care for what the elf had said about them having to be presentable for the others; he had waited long enough to hear such sighs fall from his lover’s lips, had waited for them to be able to turn their teasing words into actions. With Elladan’s warm body pressed against his own and those lips parted for a whisper of his name, leaving the couch was the absolute last thing on his mind.

He feared someone would have to come to tear them apart if people wished for their attendance at the party.

“It’s your fault for being so irresistible,” he muttered accusingly, slipping his leg between Elladan’s own to press closer to the elf, fingers moving to thread through his hair.

...

With a mischievous grin, Elladan ducked his head against the side of Kili’s neck, his lips brushing the soft spot just beneath his ear. “Ah well, if it’s poetry you want!” He teased, looping both arms around his beloved, “I’m sure I can manage something to appease you.”

One day, he wanted to learn Kili’s language; to know the syllables that resonated in parts of his heart that the common tongue couldn’t reach. But until then? His own would have to suffice.

“Ten anno hiniath o nin… Pedo gûr hen dartha thenin… A mibo thîr dín ah mipheleg… A tiro din, seron vell nín.” He murmured, breath warm against Kili’s neck.

Tangled together in their own space felt like an impossible luxury, a blessing after the long months apart. With idle hands, Elladan smoothed his fingers over one of Kili’s braids, the plait frayed and loose from spending so long stuck in bed. “Let me fix this before you leave?” He asked, voice softening an uncertain octave, “Elrohir and I have been allowed to attend tonight because we had some small part in your story. But I know you’ll be sitting with Fili, and your uncle; it’s right, after all the three of your endured.”

“But fixing you up… It’s a small thing, until I can finish the proper bead for your hair.”

...

One day, he’d ask Elladan to teach some of those elvish words that were whispered against his neck, curious to know the meaning behind such soft-sounding words. Each syllable made him shiver as the elf’s breath ghosted over his skin, and he still felt a bit out of it by the time Elladan moved over to fix his hair.

The intimate action brought his heart to a skidding halt before beating even faster, his mouth running dry at the mere thought of having Elladan fix his braids. Normally, he would not bother to wear them but as of now, those braids spoke of his royal blood and his heritage, and thus, he had to wear them.

But wearing a braid with Elladan’s bead in it sounded absolutely lovely.

“You can fix them,” he murmured softly, his own fingers drawing absent shapes over Elladan’s chest. He could feel the beat of Elladan’s heart under his palm and it brought a smile to his lips, the joy of having such a wonderful lover as his own making him feel nearly elated.

“You do know I’ll escape the moment I can to join you and your brother instead, right?” He asked laughing. “I do not wish to be stared at for hours on some sort of pedestal when I could have a drink with the two of you.”

...

Beyond their chamber doors, the rest of the mountain was preparing for the evening’s celebration. They had survived the dragon and reclaimed their home, and the last of their wounded had been released from the halls of healing. And it was as much as celebration of the living, as it was the lives of those they’d lost.

Elladan’s heart stuttered in his chest, the cadence catching under Kili’s fingers, “Sit up, then. We’ll see you beautiful before you go.” The words were light, but his smile was earnest and soft, and so very aware of the intimacy his lover had granted him.

With a final kiss, Elladan sat up and made himself comfortable on one end of the couch, and waited for Kili to settle himself. Every touch made his fingers tingle, warm with the realization that this could be… would be… what their life looked like. The two of them, here. Like this.

Ai Valar… how could he be so lucky?

“Of course you will!” He laughed and brought himself back to reality, light fingers starting to unravel Kili’s frayed braids, “Let your people hear your story, and celebrate your survival. Then you can escape back to me.”

...

The dwarf turned around on the couch, sitting cross-legged in front of Elladan so that the other could easily reach his hair. A shiver ran through his body at the very first touch over his scalp and Kili felt glad the other could not see how flustered his face had become from such a simple action.

No one aside from his family had touched his hair like this before; and only Fili had tried to braid it a couple of times in their youth.

But it had never felt quite like this.

The air around them felt electrified, the soft glow from the lit fireplace the only source of light in their chamber making the entire situation feel even more intimate than it probably should be. It felt as if they were in their own little world; lulled into a sense of comfort and security, Elladan’s soft voice in his ears the only thing keeping him from drifting away.

“Too bad you’re too tall; I can’t just hide you underneath the table to keep me company,” Kili sighed, laughter evident in his voice; for wouldn’t that be a sight to behold!

“I can try to tell my story but how am I supposed to concentrate when I’ll be too busy staring at my very own star?”

...

“I dread to think what your uncle would think of that! I’m trying to convince him that I’m a fit husband for a Dwarven prince– hiding under the table might not play into my favour!” Kili’s dark hair spilled through his fingers as Elladan dissolved into laughter, leaning forward to press a warm kiss to the to crown of his beloved’s head.

He didn’t suppose it was any surprise that he was nervous about the whole evening. It was one thing to have the people of Erebor speculating about the two of them; but it was another to have it confirmed. Even if neither of them were wearing the signs of their unofficial betrothal, Elladan felt like it was printed clearly across his face.

I love this man. And I will do anything to be with him.

“Hush… If I was a star, I would be far out of reach. You couldn’t touch me, or kiss me; yet here I am! And here you are.” Gently Elladan combed out the last of the plaits with his fingers, carefully working out all the little knots that had tangled in during his long convalescence.

He could feel the crackle of energy between them, electric on his skin; but it was a comfortable thing. An awareness of the warmth of Kili’s body against his own, and the dip of the pillows beneath their weight. There was no particular urgency in it; just… This. Their long absence soothed by their closeness.

Carefully, Elladan gathered his long hair over his shoulder, and made short work of freeing a few of the tiny, Elven beads. They were rich blue lapis, the stone veined with threads of silvery mica. “I’ll keep a few for myself, lest your people think you’re intending to match with Elrohir!”

...

“Now wouldn’t that be a scoop! The dwarven prince mistook his lover’s twin to be his own,” Kili giggled, honest of God giggled at the mere thought. He wasn’t sure who would be more embarrassed if that were to happen; him or Elrohir! Thankfully, he was pretty sure he would recognise his elf if the two stood beside each other.

The knowledge of carrying Elladan’s own beads in his hair sent his heart racing; he didn’t care if they weren’t regal. They were still fit for a prince and they were Elladan’s. That’s all that mattered.

“I can’t wait to start making the beads for you,” he admitted smiling, tilting his head back a bit once he felt Elladan’s fingers return to their work. “Though I’m torn between all of the options! I could sink emerald into mithril, or find a stone that matches the color of your eyes. Or I could try to see what stands out from your hair so that everyone would see them from a distance.”

...

“We would never hear the end of it!” Kneeling behind Kili, Elladan leaned over to press a kiss to the broad sweep of his shoulder, warm and affectionate. “For the sake of my pride, be sure you’re kissing the right twin. Elrohir is not half so pretty as I am!”

Which was a lie. Nobody in all their lives had reliably been able to tell the sons of Elrond apart. Even their grandmother, the great lady Galadriel, and their father-- two of the wises people in Arda, and bearers of two of the rings of power-- had found it difficult! The twins were but one divided soul, one fëa in two bodies.

“I know already what I’m going to use for yours, but my impatient heart thinks it’s taking too long.” He laughed at his own foibles, his hands still moving carefully through Kili’s hair.

“I want it to be perfect.” With every pass he worked out a few more of the stubborn knot, dark strands sliding between his fingers. “For the world to know that we belong together, always.”

...

“I still cannot believe you are mine,” Kili sighed wistfully, his scalp tingling pleasantly the more Elladan worked with his hair. He wished this moment could last forever; just him and his lover in the warm glow of the fire, their soft murmurs or affection the only sound that could be heard and the touch of their skin the softest sensation in the chamber.

Of course, that was the moment someone knocked on the doors and they were pushed open revealing a servant of their kingdom.

“My apologies, my prince, but I have a message from Thorin. His highness wishes for you to change into your regal gear and join him in the High Hall for the celebration of the kingdom.”

The prince groaned and tipped his head back against Elladan’s shoulder; an action that made the servant shift on his feet almost uncomfortably.

“Thank you, I’ll be there soon,” Kili dismissed the servant who scurried away hurriedly, closing the doors after him.

“Why am I not allowed to have more than mere measly hours with you?” He complained, the whine evident in the tone of his voice. He was displeased to say the least; he just wanted to spend one evening with Elladan; was that too much to ask?

“Would it be considered rude if we just skipped the party?”

...

“How impatient you are!” Elladan teased against his ear, brushing a kiss just above his temple. How ironic, given that he was truly no better– and Kili had the excuse of being mortal! “You’ll have me all to yourself tonight after the reveling, though I think we may be too tired to do anything but sleep.”

Waking up together had been a luxury denied to them before; something soft and sweet, and made impossible by their situation. But they’d endured, and Elladan had left the lands of his people to be with Kili. All that mattered was that they were both here now. In a place they’d made for themselves.

And if the other Dwarves made trouble over it? Well, Elladan wasn’t going to let himself be scared away!

“If skip the party tonight, your uncle is going to blame me. And then we’ll have to convince him to forgive us, before he’ll give blessing over our marriage.” Elladan’s arms tightened around him briefly, his voice lilted with amusement, “Go, dress. I’ll rescue your brother from my twin– or Elrohir from your brother, I’m never entirely certain with them.”

“Your people need their prince tonight; you bring them hope for their hard won future. I am yours now, and I shall still be yours tonight. And for all the rest of the days of our lives… But I know I must share you with your people. So give me a kiss to fortify myself– and I’ll be with you again shortly!”

...

Marriage.

Even if he knew that would one day be their future, the thought of it still sent the prince’s heart racing. Courting would be the first step towards marriage after they’d receive the blessing from both of their kings and he felt elated at the knowledge nothing could stand between them anymore.

The war had been fought and won.

Now they could focus on themselves.

“I’ll be waiting to see you at the feast then,” Kili sighed regretfully as he bent down and pressed a light yet meaningful kiss on Elladan’s lips. “I’ll be the handsome prince next to the king under the mountain,” he added with a laugh and flashing the elven prince a last grin, he left their chambers.

Yet he could not shake the thought of Elladan from his mind; not when the tailors bustled around him trying out different shades of blue against his skin, not when he was covered with the rich blue and silver and when he placed the silver circled on top of his head.

All he could think about was Elladan beside him.

The pleasant thoughts disappeared and the weight of the circlet turned heavy the moment he was lead into the Great Hall and hundreds of dwarves began cheering. These people looked up to him and his family for guidance; he was in charge of their lives, their happiness. He had gone from a small-town dwarf to a prince and the change suddenly hit him like a pack of wargs.

The cheering and singing was almost deafening by the time he took his seat next to Thorin, Fili already seated on their uncle’s right side.

Desperate for something to ground him, Kili grabbed a hold of the goblet in front of him and began searching the hall with his gaze for his own prince.

#murkhith

1 note · View note