So Comes Snow After Fire

8.iii

"Here's to the end of the south halls!" Kíli declared, knocking his beer mug against Fíli's. The two of them had claimed a table in the cosy taproom off the main dining hall.

Fíli smirked. "You make it sound like you expect them to fall in again."

Kíli raised his brows as if to say, Don't you? as he took a first draught.

"But, more importantly: you're courting Tauriel," Fíli added knowingly.

"How could you possibly guess?" Kíli returned with a self-conscious smile.

"Well, you talked to Uncle, and it could have been about only one thing. And I assume if it had ended badly, you'd be here getting quietly drunk by yourself instead of inviting me along to celebrate." Fíli's tone was matter-of-fact.

Kíli nodded; it was all quite logical.

"Also, you played your fiddle today, which you haven't done since Mum brought it. Planning to woo her with a jig?"

"I expect her to ask to marry me before I get through the second chorus."

"You should have tried that with the harpist lass in Rivendell. Maybe then she'd have spared you a glance." Fíli chuckled, remembering how hard his brother had tried, in vain, to elicit the slightest smile from her.

Kíli gripped Fíli's arm, nearly spilling his beer. "Don't tell Tauriel about that," he insisted, apparently half jesting and half serious.

"What, and let her think she gave in to you far too easily?" He shook off Kíli's hand and took a sip of beer. "What was your winning line? 'I could have anything down my—'" Fíli couldn't finish, but broke out in laughter that continued until he collapsed against the tabletop.

Kíli smiled slightly. "I know, it was awful. I was looking up at her, and, Mahal, she was gorgeous, and I thought, 'You have to say something; make her laugh,' and that was the best I could do on the spot.'"

"Well, at least you ensured she didn't forget you," Fíli said, pushing himself upright at last and wiping tears from his face. "You've got to be the first person in the history of Arda to suppose an innuendo about your cock is the right way to flirt with an elf."

"Well, when you put it that way, I'm positively ashamed of myself," Kíli said, though he sounded more self-satisfied than anything. He took a pull at his mug, and then, his face more serious, added, "Fí, I made a deal with Thorin. Well, that sounds wrong, but... What I mean is: I asked Uncle to let me court Tauriel and let us prove ourselves to him. But if we do..." He set down the mug and put a hand on Fíli's arm. "I agreed to renounce my place in the line of succession."

Fíli nodded; he hadn't really expected there to be any other solution if Kíli seriously pursued her. And he knew his brother was serious.

"I decided on that so I could stay. I can't run away, not unless, well..." Kíli shook his head. "But I want to be here with you, when you're king. I hope you understand."

"I understand, Kíli." Fíli laid a hand over his brother's. "No matter what the royal scribes will say, you'll still be my brother."

"Thanks. I—" Kíli sighed, and when he went on, his voice was rough. "I don't want you to think this is about choosing her over you. It's not. I just— I want you all in my life, and this seems the only way."

"I know. And if Thorin doesn't approve of you both—?"

"Then, well, pray he sees the truth, and that I see it, too."

Fíli leaned over and caught his brother about the shoulders. "Don't forget, you've me and Mum to keep him honest," he said.

"Thanks."

They sat back, each sipping at their mugs to hide the momentary embarrassment of having played out such a private scene in the middle of the taproom.

"And Kí," Fíli said after a moment, his tone deliberately waggish. "You know, if it would be easier, Frig has been asking after you."

"What? No! You're lying!" Kíli reasoned, his look of horror fading somewhat.

"She says to tell you she remembers that kiss."

"I don't believe you," Kíli returned and drained his mug.

"And she says she doesn't care about the elves; she knows it was a very trying adventure for you," Fíli continued, his grin widening.

Kíli dropped his face against the tabletop. "Fine," he said, clapping down his empty mug in front of his brother. "If you insist on tormenting me, at least get me another beer."