So Comes Snow After Fire

2.iii

When she first met him, Tauriel hadn't known Kíli was a prince. He'd simply been the cheeky young dwarf who had made her smile in the Elvenking's dungeons. She hadn't learned he was Thorin's nephew till that morning on the lake.

Tauriel had been surprised, at first. Royalty, in her experience, announced their superiority in the way they carried themselves. Thranduil's high bearing could sometimes border on haughty disdain, and even Legolas always had that air of easy self-assurance that came from his rank. As for Thorin— Well, none of the elven guards had been spared his stubborn and resentful glare of injured dignity.

By contrast, Kíli—once he had warmed to her—had been open and friendly and not at all condescending. Indeed, the fact that he had spoken to her at all seemed proof he was anything but royal; a prince would have known his duty far too well ever to have given his attention so readily to an elf. And later in Laketown, he'd hardly presented a regal figure, dressed in ill-fitting borrowed clothes and nearly dead of fever.

Kíli had first seemed a prince on Ravenhill, when he'd leaped to Thorin's side at Azog's approach. Then, his eyes had flashed with something like the pride and defiance she had come to associate with kings. And yet it was devotion, most of all, that she saw in him so clearly: Kíli moved with no hesitation, as if his body were nothing more than a shield, ready to be broken to save its master. She could only thank the gods that so much had not been required of him.

Thorin knew what he had in his nephew. Indeed, he seemed to have gained such love from many of his followers, both kindred and friends alike. Even the strange and unlikely halfling had held him in great affection. Tauriel thought that, with time, she could come to like and respect the dwarf king for his own sake as well as for Kíli's. Yes—she quickly realized—she did very much want Thorin to accept her feelings for Kíli. Of course he would hardly approve at first; she could see that none of the dwarves—with the exception of the few who knew what she had done in Laketown—were comfortable with her presence. But she knew that if she and Kíli were to have any hope of showing their affection openly, they would need to gain the approval of the king.

It was all Tauriel could do sometimes not to smile back at Kíli when caught her eye over the table at the evening meal. But she would not betray herself before the eyes of his uncle. Thorin would learn to see her for herself before he judged her for her attachment to Kíli. She was almost certain Thorin knew what Kíli's feelings were; Kíli gave her his attention freely in the evenings after the day's work was done. She did not discourage him; she wished for his company as much as he did hers, and if Thorin saw that Kíli chose to pursue her, the king might be more willing to accept her than if he thought she encourage Kíli.

And indeed, Thorin did seem unaware of her true affection for now. One night, he had even apologized to her after Kíli addressed her with a rather familiar jest over ale after dinner.

When Kíli had passed out of hearing to another table, Thorin had added, "You need not ignore his presumption; tell him that he exceeds himself."

He was commanding her, if politely, to refuse Kíli. She wanted to laugh: was it somehow in her fate to be told, time and again, that she was unworthy of a prince, not a dwarf, not even one of her own people?

"I assure you, if your nephew behaves unworthily of himself or me, I shall tell him," she said.

Thorin nodded, as if he had expected no less from her. Tauriel tried to remind herself that he had counted on her to answer from her own pride and indifference. But would he have spoken any differently if he knew the truth? How did kings think they had any command over one's love? She knew Thorin valued the love of his nephews, of his people, because it was freely given. Could he truly imagine her feelings for Kíli ought to be any less free?

Thorin must have seen a flash of emotion in her eyes, because he added, "Forgive me. Kíli is young, and his heart outruns him. I meant nothing against your honor."

"It is nothing, Your Majesty," Tauriel told him, grateful he had misattributed the cause of her offense.

Thorin nodded and watched her for several uncomfortable moments, and then he had excused himself from the table. Tauriel watched him go, frustration temporarily threatening to overcome her hope.