So Comes Snow After Fire

1.vi

"Thorin's not a fool," his brother said when Kíli returned to their rooms. "And you're not exactly subtle. He's going to figure it out."

Kíli flopped down into a chair beside the fire. "Maybe I'll get lucky and he'll banish me, too."

"Kí," Fíli admonished, though he was smiling. He took the second seat by the hearth.

"Na, I don't want that," Kíli agreed. After a moment, he added, "Do you think he'll forbid me from seeing her?"

"Do you think he'll sanction it?" Fíli countered.

Kíli shook his head. "I wish there wasn't this grudge between Erebor and Mirkwood. We're all supposed to hate the elves. And now she can't go back home, either." He tugged his hair loose and dragged his fingers through it. "This whole situation is a mess." He looked up at Fíli through disarranged bangs. "I thought getting our home back was supposed to fix all our problems, not create more."

"You might have one fewer problem if you weren't fond of an elf," Fíli noted kindly.

Kíli groaned and fixed his brother with an accusatory look.

"Sorry. I know what you mean. It all sounded a lot simpler back ho—err, back in our old halls: journey halfway across the world, kill a dragon, retake a mountain." He snorted. "As if even that was going to be easy."

"Did you see Daín's face when we came into the dining hall?" Kíli muttered, slouching down in the chair and glowering into the fire. "I didn't think he was going to stand for having an elf at the same table."

"Be patient, brother! I'll be at your back when the time comes, but till then just... try not to deliberately step on anyone's toes."

"Thanks." Kíli glanced up at Fíli, a half-smile on his face.

After a few minutes of silence, Fíli said, "You know, she's only here because of you. I mean, she wouldn't want to be here, snowstorm or no, if she didn't care more about you than about a whole mountain full of unfriendly dwarves."

"Do you think so?"

Fíli shrugged. "All I'm saying is, you couldn't pay me to be the Elvenking's guest."

"I guess not." Kíli smirked in spite of his frustration.

Fíli pushed up from his chair. "Well, I'm off to bed. Don't brood too long or you'll break your face."

"It can't end up any worse than yours!" Kíli called after him. He thought he heard Fíli make a noise of mock derision before the door closed.

Kíli settled down into the chair cushions once more and gazed into the flames, which burned low and red, like the color of her hair. No, things weren't sorted, by any means. But they had all lived through the battle; Tauriel was here; and somehow—if she loved him, if she wanted it to work—they might be together. If there was anything he'd learned from this whole terrible, wonderful adventure, it was that things had a way of coming out good, even if you didn't understand at first.