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“Is he alright?”
Fíli was struggling to keep his brother upright, but he still found time to shoot her a look as he steered Kíli into their room and onto the bed. Tauriel laughed, which seemed to snap him at least partially out of his drunken stupor.
“Hello, melethril,” Kíli said. Tauriel could just barely hear the slur in his words. “Did we wake you with our noise?”
“Your noise,” Fíli argued. “Not mine.”
“I wasn’t asleep yet,” Tauriel said. They were in Ered Luin, and while Lady Dís had led about half of the Erebor diaspora home to the Lonely Mountain last summer, Thorin had thought it would be good for the people to see the Crown Princes leading the last caravan home. Alongside their regular guard, Tauriel had also come along, and she’d been taking major advantage of their stay in the Blue Mountains, where there were as many homes above ground as below it. She had been meditating on their roof, basking in the light of the stars when she heard them coming from down the street, Kíli’s laughs and noisy footsteps and Fíli’s grumbling. The caravan left tomorrow, and the brothers had wanted one last night out in the place they grew up.
“That’s good,” Kíli said. “I’d hate to have woken you.”
“Did you two have a good evening down at the pub?”
“Aye. We ran into all of our old crew, except instead of giving us lip about everything, all the old guards kept buying us drinks.” Kíli paused. “I drank quite a bit tonight.”
Fíli snorted from where he was pouring his brother a glass of water. “Yeah, I think she knows.”
“Show her what I made her, Fi,” Kíli said, and Tauriel raised an eyebrow.
“I set it on the bedside table,” Fíli said. He gave Tauriel an unimpressed look. “He took a coaster from the bar and carved your face in it. Twice.”
“I think I did a great job capturing your essence,” Kíli said, grabbing it and holding it up.
“I can see you got my ears,” Tauriel said. It was the only distinguishable feature. Kíli beamed.
“I’ve seen better,” Fíli said blandly.
“It was a rather weird night though,” Kíli continued, unphased. He set the coaster back down. “Even when we left for the quest, it didn’t feel so final. But this is probably the last time we drink in that pub with all those dwarrow.”
“Well, the next time we drink with them, it’ll be in Erebor. It’s a change for the better.” Fíli sat the water on the nightstand. “If you two don’t mind, I believe I’ll head to my own lodgings.”
“Sounds good,” Kíli said. “Thanks for cutting me off, Fi."
Fíli rolled his eyes good-naturedly and then left, as Kíli laid back on the bed and groaned. Tauriel sat down beside him, and brushed the braids near his face back. “Do you need anything for the headache you’re going to have tomorrow morning?”
Kíli shook his head. “I’m not going to.”
“You’re not?” Tauriel teased. “I happen to remember a certain party celebrating our upcoming marriage where you spent all of the next two days wincing whenever Dwalin spoke.”
“Yes, but back then I went back to my rooms and I was all by myself.”
“And now?”
He rolled over to face her, and when she leaned down he pressed a kiss to her jaw. “All I feel is you.”
She turned so she could kiss him properly, and when she pulled back he was flushed. She giggled, heady from his affection, and trailed a finger along his cheeks, then over his lips, watching his blush darken. “For someone who is going to be very hungover tomorrow, you sure are romantic.”
Kíli laughed, but before he could distract her again with more kisses she stood up, and offered him her hand. “Come, I want to show you something.”
“Alright.” When she pulled him to his feet, he was only a little shaky, so she wasn’t worried as he led him outside. “Wait, is it a good idea for me to be climbing on the roof right now?”
“If you slip, I will catch you,” she said, moving a crate over to the lowest spot of the roof so it would be an easier climb for her dwarf. “But I think you are more sure footed than that.”
“It’s dark!” He half-heartedly protested, but he was already following after her.
She offered him her hand to cover the remaining distance, and then they were both leaned back against the stone roof. Tauriel let out a soft sight, and at Kíli’s questioning look, she said, “I came out hear earlier, while you were with your brother. It’s a beautiful night, is it not?”
“Aye,” Kíli answered. “It’s almost two years, you know. Mereth Nuin Giliath is in what, two and a half months, right?”
“Yes.”
They laid in quiet for a moment, and then Kíli let out a loud snort. Tauriel’s giggles joined a few seconds later, and soon they were both laughing hard enough that their shoulders were shaking. Kíli was still laughing as he finally managed to force out, “I was so nervous, you know? To talk to you. And then you finally noticed me and—“
“I sounded ridiculous,” Tauriel said, putting her arm over her stomach to try and stop shaking. “I promise you, I’d spoken to dwarrows before.”
“Yes, but not this dwarf.” Kíli wiggled his eyebrows and she laughed and smoothed out the lines of his forehead. “You were really something, you know?”
“So were you. I’ve become very fond of beards,” Tauriel said, and they dissolved into laughter once again.
“You still are,” Kíli insisted. “You’re incredible.”
“So are you, my steadfast dwarf,” Tauriel said, curling up closer to his side. “Constant as the northern star.”
They were quiet for a moment, until Kíli asked, “Do your people have a name for it?”
“Pardon?” Tauriel asked.
“The northern star,” Kíli said. “What do you call it in Sindarin?”
Tauriel paused, caught a little off guard by the question. His mind would always be a little strange to her, but it was refreshing. “We call it the elen fuir. It’s the lead star in the cerch i-mbelain, the sickle of the Valar.”
“Point it out to me,” Kíli said, and Tauriel took his hand and pointed out the rest of the seven stars.
“That’s it,” Tauriel said. “We also call them the otselen.”
“It’s big,” Kíli said. “Looks kind of like a spoon."
“I guess,” Tauriel absently conceded. “What were the stars you grew up knowing?”
“Well, Fíli is better with this stuff than I am, but—” He took Tauriel’s hand and guided her along a different set of seven stars. “That’s the crown of Durin.”
“The seven stars he saw in the waters of the mirrormere.”
“The very same,” he said. “You know, maybe I am as constant as a star.”
“How so?”
She felt his shrug at her side, and somehow knew without looking that he was blushing. “Well, looking back now, maybe I was constantly in the darkness. Before you touched my soul.”
“And you touched mine,” Tauriel said. “I love you more everyday.”
“Gi melin,” Kíli said. “Do you think we really have to go back inside? I think I’d like to stay out here for a while.”
“I’ll wake you up if you start to move around too much,” Tauriel said. He relaxed against her side even more, beginning to drift off as they lay in the starlight, and she thanked the Valar for bringing them to this moment.