So Comes Snow After Fire

6.ii

Kíli unfolded her note and read it again.

My dear Kíli,

I have received my king's pardon and must return shortly to the Greenwood. My desires remain unchanged, and I carry your promise with me. I will find a way to remain within your reach.

Your Tauriel

He had truly memorized its few lines by now, but he liked seeing the words My dear Kíli and Your Tauriel written out in her unadorned but graceful hand.

The note had come several weeks ago through Fíli, who had gotten it from Bard. Kíli was still somewhat surprised Tauriel had been willing to entrust her secret to the lakeman, since she seemed so shy and secretive about her feelings. But he warmed to know that she had taken the risk to ensure Kíli knew why she had disappeared. And he was truly glad to know she had a home to return to once more.

He refolded the paper and placed it back in the wardrobe drawer next to the little silver snuffbox that held the lock of her hair. Her gift deserved to be set in a proper keepsake, but he hadn't been able to decide on the perfect design yet. A locket, or perhaps a brooch? And in gold or silver? Tomorrow evening he would go down to one of the workshops and see what came to him then.

It was probably best that Tauriel was gone back to the Greenwood for now. She had removed the temptation for him to try to find some excuse to go see her, something that was unlikely to meet with Thorin's approval. Just how he was going to get his uncle to approve of her, though, Kíli had no idea.

He had hoped that it would be enough to show himself loyal to kingdom and family, to work for the restoration of Erebor and fulfill all that was required of him. Surely if he could love Tauriel and still do those things, it would vindicate his attachment to her. But Kíli could see now that it would take more than a show of reliability to prove that he was not wrong to want an elf. He was fairly certain Thorin did think her a good person, but even that did not seem to prove Kíli would not bring centuries of honor and tradition—and Erebor itself—crashing down around her pointed ears if he chose her.

He wanted to prove he was mature, reliable, not someone who simply avoided a problem—that sort of behavior looked uncomfortably like sulking. And yet he truly was at a loss for how to proceed. If the truth were not enough to speak for itself, what could he say to confirm his devotion, both to his family and to Tauriel?

And when his mother arrived, what would she say? Kíli hadn't worried about her response much before now; he had had enough to think of with Thorin, and, well, everyone else. Probably she would be shocked. Of all the things that she had been quite right to worry about regarding the quest, surely she never guessed her son would fall for an elf, their enemy. And yet, he hoped she remembered what it was to be in love with someone and would, if not approve, at least understand what he needed to do.