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Deep in the elvish dungeons, Kili sighed.
"Fili," he whined, "do you think I'll ever see that elf again?" The bars of his prison groaned as he leaned against them and his shoulder ached as it was dug into by the bars, but Kili was too lost in his thoughts to notice. His mind was too caught up in the memory of beautiful red hair the colour of a tiger lily, his mother’s favourite flower, and an expression so fierce and angry that surely even the gods would've hesitated to cross that being.
Fili sighed in that long suffering way that all older brothers do and there was an audible clunk as he dropped his forehead against the stone wall.
"Fili," he said, "This is really not the time for your romantic nonsense. Besides, Uncle would kill you, Kili." He paused. "Kili? Kili, are you even listening to me?"
"...Huh?"
"Mahal damn you Kili, your heart is going to get us all killed! And by Uncle, no less!" Fili had always envisioned that he would die in the glory of battle, not strangled by his Uncle’s hand because his brother caught it in his head that he wanted to court an elf. Because, make no mistake, Kili wasn't the type to love and leave - much to his brothers distress. Kili fell in love, and he fell in love hard .
"But Fili," Kili whined, and Fili couldn't see Kili but he could hear the pout that was surely on his brothers face. "I only want to see him again, I never said I'd do anything." Kili also never said he wouldn't do anything, but he was keeping that fact to himself.
Fili sighed once more and dropped his protests, knowing they would do no good.
"How do you know they're a he?" Fili asked, resigned.
Kili perked up immediately, fake pout falling off his face. "Well I could be wrong, but that looked like a male identifying braid down the back of his head, didn't it?" It had been a little bit confusing, seeing as the elf had multiple braids and none in the typical gender placement, but Kili figured the biggest was the one he ought to go by.
Fili, who knew gender braids better than anyone else in the company save his brother, thought back to the encounter. It was hard, because, unlike some people , Fili had been paying attention to the fighting, not pretty elves.
"...I don't know, Kee," He replied hesitantly, "What if elves don't use braids the way we do?" Honestly he rather doubted that they did. He had yet to see the same significance placed on braids in any other culture.
"Fee, come on," Kili whined, "Answer the question!"
"Fine, yes, I guess it could have been. My point still stands though."
Kili rolled his eyes, "Well fine, how am I supposed to tell, then?"
Fili opened his mouth to retort but realized that he didn't actually know the answer. What did they use? Were you just supposed to assume? Fili shivered at that, because surely the elves, who had some of the most magnificent and beautiful societies Fili had ever seen (Don't tell Uncle Thorin he said that though), didn't just assume what someone identified as. That was simply horrific! Yet as Fili thought, and the seconds turned into minutes, he honestly couldn't think of any other way.
Kili started snickering, sure that he had won his point.
"...I guess," Fili said, "You're just supposed to... assume." The grin fell off Kili's face and he gasped.
" Assume ?" He asked the air, " Assume !?" His hand clutched his shirt dramatically as he struggled for words, and finally he fell back from the bars and sat on the floor, crossing his arms. "Well," he said at length in a plaintive tone, "That's rather rude."
Fili couldn't help but laugh at his brothers antics, though he felt rather the same. His brother laughed too, a high and breathy noise compared to Fili's deeper rumble. In that moment they forgot about the dungeon and the elves and just became brothers, sharing a laugh. Then a deep voice interrupted their giggles.
"Oi, keep it down!" Dealing growled, thumping the wall for good measure. Fili and Kili immediately quieted, though both were still biting their lips to keep the laughter in.
"And to answer your question," Dwalin continued, "Elves don't use braids. They must use something else, though I've never figured out what..." He muttered the last as if to himself.
"Well," asked Kili brightly, "Why don't we just ask?" Then, before Fili or Dwalin could tell him just how bad of an idea this was, Kili opened his big fat mouth and asked the blonde elf that was barely visible on the ledge above him, "Hello? Elf? Could you please come down here?" There was a loud clunk as Fili and Dwalin both thumped their foreheads against the walls of their cells.
"Kili, you idiot..." Fili moaned, already accepting his brother’s death at the hands of a severely pissed off elf. Dwalin was having similar thoughts, though he thought that he'd like to kill Kili himself.
"What!?" Kili exclaimed, offended, "It worked! Look," he pointed, "that elf is coming down!" And indeed the elf was. Somehow their blonde hair sparkled in the low lighting of the prisons and though Mahal didn't craft the elves surely he must have made an exception, for this elf's face was as beautiful as any stone or gem Kili had ever seen. Kili felt his brain fry as he took in this beauty and all thoughts of the red head were chased from his head. He let out a small sigh.
Fili, who was attuned to his brother and knew him better than any living being, felt more than heard this sigh and picked up his head in horror.
"Kili!" he gasped, "Kili no! Don't do this Kili you already have an elf!" There was no reply, and Fili clutched his head in his hands, pulling on his braids. "Oh no," he moaned, "We're so dead. So, so dead."
Kili hadn't heard any of this, too busy admiring the incoming elf to pay any attention. He was so distracted that he didn't even notice the terrifying expression of cold anger that graced the elf's features.
"What, pray tell, do you want, Dwarf Scum?" The elf snarled. Kili startled out of his daydreaming and swallowed hard as he saw the face only inches from his.
"Well, uh, you s-see-" Kili paused, too caught up in the piercing blue eyes staring into his.
The elf cut him off, "Get to the point!" Somehow this order seemed to echo through the halls though the elf had not shouted.
"I was just wondering how you tell the gender of the elf you're speaking to!" Kili exclaimed, speaking so fast he almost tripped over his tongue. It was a miracle that the elf even understood; Dwalin didn't, and Fili did only because of the many years spent with his brother.
This exclamation seemed to draw the elf up short, and they stared at Kili in a look that could be called (if one was feeling generous) astonishment. Clearly this was not what the elf had expected from this interaction.
"...And why do you want to know?" They asked suspiciously.
"Well," Kili started, "You see, we dwarves do it by our braids, here," he tilted his head and pointed to the braid, "But you elves don't seem to-" Kili was cut off once more.
"Of course we don't." The elf scoffed. "Braids hold no significance to us; that is a dwarfish custom." Somehow the elf managed to make 'dwarfish' sound like a horrible, disgusting thing.
"Well, then how do you tell?" Kili asked, gaining back some of his courage (which many argued was really just stupidity) now that the elf was no longer spitting fury in his face.
The elf hesitated and looked around before pulling back the cloth at the wrist of their tunic, "See here?" They gestured to a small almost invisible tattoo dyed in white ink, "We bear these tattoos." He hesitated again and seemed to come to a decision, "Mine states that I am male."
Kili poked curiously at the tattoo which made the elf tense up, but Kili didn't notice. "Huh," he said, "That's an odd way. When do you get them? How do you ask to see it? What if your gender changes?" The last question he tacked on, almost as an afterthought, having thought of his brother. The elf looked a little bombarded by questions, and it took him a minute to answer.
"When we come of age we choose them. They can be changed, but that is a rare occurrence." His face took on a thoughtful look, "Truly I have never thought of asking. I meet new faces so rarely, and we elves remember all that we meet. It has never been a problem. As for your last question, there is a word for that in our language." His face hardened, "I will not share it with you, but it translates roughly to 'as the river'" At Kili's confused look he elaborated, “Fluid, flowing, like a river." Kili nodded in acknowledgement, face shining in the light of this new information.
"That's fascinating!" he exclaimed, and Fili's hands tugged even harder on his braids as he realized that the conversation showed no signs of ending soon (though truly he wished to learn as well).
"We dwarves use braids," Kili announced, and the elf scoffed again. "Hey!" Kili stomped his foot, "There's nothing wrong with braids! Anyway," he continued warily, "This braid says I'm a guy. I actually think braids work rather well," Kili added pointedly, "We can change them whenever we wish, and with ease."
The elf rolled his eyes, clearly not impressed. He straightened his back, which he had hunched to talk to the dwarf, "Is that all?" he asked in a short, clipped tone.
"Well, no," Kili replied, and Fili knew that tone.
"No, Kili, don't do it, don't do it, don't do it," Fili chanted quietly in his cell, and he heard Dwalin inhale noisily as he too foresaw what would happen next.
"I was wondering..." Kili continued, oblivious to the sheer panic that had overtaken his brother, "You wouldn't be interested in dwarves, would you?"
And Kili learned another thing that day; he learned just how hard the crown prince of Mirkwood could hit when he was pissed off.