Work Text:
Tauriel sat in a clearing which was bathed in warm light, though she was not particularly fond of it at that moment, for it felt overbearing rather than gracious. Much like the Elvenking she once had served years before.
Regardless, at one time when she was young, the hues brought out by that specific fixture in the sky lightened her weary heart. It was a constant when she lived a life that was everchanging. Tauriel could always count upon the sun to shine, even if everything else about her existence had been so tenuous, even after entering Thranduil’s court as his ward.
It was true, even when her heart felt cold. Which had remained as such by Elven standards for so little time since Kíli had fallen, and yet somehow Tauriel had felt every bit of the lack of warmth that particular Dwarf exuded at any given moment; from his gaze to his actual body heat. All was dearly missed by her, even if she had mourned him longer by that point than she had known him when he had lived.
A noise at present struck her as odd, when footsteps nearing to her appeared out of seemingly nowhere. Owing to that strangeness, Tauriel was up in a flash, her bow at the ready in her hands.
Tauriel's eyes soon found Kíli, who must have been but the result of too much time in the sun, because the living embodiment of a flame that burnt too bright before her had already been snuffed out. There was zero chance Kíli lived again.
She breathed, preparing to loose her arrow, but something gave her pause. In that slight moment of hesitation, Tauriel heard, "If you shoot, then I'll die a second time, and I would really rather not."
"It is not possible," she replied, though Tauriel was unsure why, as it was clearly a figment of her imagination at best and nothing more.
Kíli’s face turned pleading as his voice became softer. It was but a cruel joke played upon her by her mind, but even so Tauriel listened as he reached a hand towards her, saying, "Tauriel. Amrâlimê."
Tears pricked to her eyes as Tauriel aimed at his foot rather than his heart. Shortly after the arrow was set free, Kíli cried out when it appeared to pierce his boot. He stumbled then fell to the ground.
That only furthered her confusion, but the figure did not waver before her eyes. So Tauriel sprinted forward.
Soon she was on her knees, saying, "Kíli?"
He turned to her, tears of Kíli’s own shining as they fell from his eyes, down to the earth below them.
"It's me, Tauriel, I swear,” Kíli rasped.
Tauriel’s eyes grazed every bit of Kíli, noticing how he appeared with no wounds nor blood to speak of, save for what she had caused him of her own volition. She sought falsehood but could find none, especially as the scent of leather entered her nose and memory filled her of quiet moments long gone.
It was really him, somehow.
"I shot your foot,” Tauriel said, her voice cracking with humour and slight disbelief.
Had she known it was possible for a Dwarf to raise from the dead, this was not how she pictured encountering him again.
Kíli huffed a laugh. "You did. Now, do you mind healing it? I can't very well return to Erebor like this. Might become infected."
Tauriel nodded, rushing to the supplies she carried with her then brought them back to where Kíli had removed his boot, sock, and all.
"It appears to have only been grazed."
He grimaced, placing his foot closer to her and said, "Still hurts though."
Tauriel made quick work of patching Kíli up, then glanced up at him again.
"You are really here," she breathed.
Kíli nodded, appearing more at ease once more.
"I am. You see, Dwarves have this thing called mountain sleep and by luck we were granted that rather than a more permanent end. Seems Mahal took pity on our suffering."
Tauriel shook her head. She didn’t really care about the particulars of how he returned, just that Kíli lived and breathed before her a second time. One that she wouldn’t waste, for all the stars above.
"I have never heard of such a concept, but I am young for an Elf."
"Still older than me," Kíli teased, though his eyes fell to her lips. "I believe we have quite a bit of unfinished business."
Tauriel, feeling a lightness to her heart as well as a sudden renewed appreciation for the sunlight above, tapped a finger to her chin.
"I'm not sure what you mean."
Kíli raised an eyebrow.
"If that's the case, I suppose I should begin my trek back towards Erebor.”
Tauriel shook her head then moved to where she dusted a kiss across his cheek. Afterwards, Kíli turned, smiling up at her, then grasped her face and kissed like he wished to leave her lungs depleted of air.
She would willingly allow it, if only later they could breathe together amidst the open sky.