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“Why does Tauriel have betrothal braids in her hair,” Fili asks.
“You noticed,” Kili lights up with a bright smile.
How could anyone not notice if they knew where to look? The dwarven braids had looked foreign in the elf-maid’s hair, enough that they had caught Fili’s attention. It had only been then as he had pointedly stared at them that he realized that nature of the braids and what the beads woven into them implied.
“Then they are yours?”
“Obviously,” Kili replied smirking, “who else would have asked for her hand?”
Oh, Fili could have hoped for a thousand others, but no he were not that lucky.
“Did you not think to ask my permission,” Fili asks.
“Why would I do that?”
“Why would you,” Fili repeats, rubbing at his temples, he could already feel a headache coming on from the direction this conversation was going. “I am your king and the head of this family, it is custom that before a betrothal begins one must gain the approval of the heads of both members families,” which begged the question of how Kili had been able to get any elves approval. Certainly, Fili can only imagine how that would have gone, surely the elfking would have disapproved of this relationship and put a stop to it, since Tauriel was a member of his guard, or so Fili would have thought.
“But you’re my brother, so you know,” Kili waves his hand in a dismissive gesture, “telling you would not have changed the matters in any case.”
“And why is that?”
There’s silence at his answer, where his brother offers him a sheepish grin, the one that he used to wear when they were children after he had done something particularly mischievous. It was the one Kili liked to use when he was pretending to be innocent, when the exact opposite was true. Decades of experience had taught Fili not to give into the look and eventually his glare in return seemed to crush Kili’s look of innocence, for the other dwarf let out a slightly annoyed sigh.
“Technically we are married, by elvish stands,” Kili says after their delayed pause, “figured we’d have an actual ceremony now though-“
“You are married,” Fili cuts him off.
The battle may not have killed him, but the way things were going it might not be too soon into having his casket made, for surely his brother was going to drive him into an early grave.
“Aye,” Kili drawls out the single syllable, “It is a humorous tale, truly.”
“I can only imagine,” he replies dryly.
Kili seems unperturbed by Fili’s displeasure though and continues, “do you remember that old rhyme to bed an elf is to wed an elf?”
Of course he remembers it. There’s a whole song that goes along with the line, a dirty song if Fili remembers correctly, but that really didn’t explain anything unless – “no,” Fili says as the realization hits.
“We thought we would be both dead by morning,” Kili offers, as if that is supposed to make this easier.
Had she been a dwarrowdam this would have never been a problem.
For among their people premarital relations were not uncommon, Fili had lain with many himself, and he could not blame Kili too much for this. Then again, he had chosen an elf of all things. Sometimes he had to question his brother’s judgment, actually most of the time he had to, but never before had Kili been quite so reckless before.
“Had I known,” Kili starts, before shaking his head, “it would not have changed things. I do not regret it.”
“You would not,” he remarks, knowing too well how his brother was. He had been there in the cells of Mirkwood, as well as at Bard’s house, and had seen the wistfulness and longing. He should have seen this coming and certainly he had, he had just not expecting things to have escalated so quickly.
“She is my One,” Kili insists.
“She’s an elf,” he reminded him.
“And now you sound like uncle,” Kili says before he thinks through the sentence, the second he does though Fili can see the expression of hurt flicker across his brother’s face only to be masked a second later as he tries to gain back his look of nonchalance, the effect is slightly off. “I thought you would be happy for me, for us.”
Fili resists the urge to flinch back at the slight accusation in the tone. “I am,” he says after a moment, because what is most important to him is his brother’s happiness, even if he makes some less than satisfactory decisions.
“Truly?”
“Truly,” Fili replies, “Have you told mother yet?”
At that question Kili seems to blanch, clearly not having thought of that one. “Not yet,” he admits after a moment, “actually I was wondering if in your next letter you could-“
“No,” Fili says, this time with a smirk, “that one is all you.”