Raven: An Unexpected Adventure

Twenty-Four

Kíli

Bag End, Hobbiton

4 January 2959

When Kíli woke, Tauriel was sitting by the window. She curled in on herself slightly, head nearly brushing the low ceiling. Kíli wondered how uncomfortable she was, knowing that she'd never say anything. He loved that about her; Tauriel never backed down from a challenge and never complained. If there was something to be done then, she did it. There had been a lot of challenges too. Adjusting to life as royalty had been difficult for Kíli. Tauriel, however, had left everything that she knew for him. He could only imagine how much more difficult things had been for her. She was an outsider- she'd had to fight for acceptance, he had been given it: hailed as the Prince Savior of Erebor.

In spite of her cramped position, Tauriel looked radiant in Kíli's opinion. The sun filtered in through the round window, turning her long red locks into a fiery halo. Tauriel's attention was focused on Bilba's garden and the rolling green hills beyond. He knew that she liked to spend hours watching nature. It brought her peace. That was why, when he had built them a home in Erebor, he'd insisted on including a wall of windows. The dwarrow helping with the construction had been aghast, but he'd settle for no less. Tauriel struggled to live in the Mountain. It was true that Thranduil's halls were partially underground, but they felt more open to her. It was also why he'd raise the ceilings in their quarters and insisted they be adorned to mimic a night sky. At least in their home, he wanted her to feel comfortable. If that included bringing in undeniably Elvish qualities then he would do it. No questions— she was his everything.

"Did you sleep?" he asked, stretching against the luxuriously soft pillows.

"Of course not," she smiled, looking over at him. She rarely slept but at least, after the attack, she had agreed to remain inside. Otherwise, he was aware of her habit of wandering or lying out under the stars in reflection.

"What did you do?" he asked but she simply smiled, and he knew that she wouldn't answer him.

He smiled back at her, acknowledging her proclivity for keeping her secrets. At one point in their relationship her secrecy had bothered him. They were learning, however; gradually becoming more comfortable with their differences. After all, they were bonded as only true Ones could ever be. When she was close, he sensed her presence and vice versa. Sometimes, when he concentrated, he could sense her emotions as well. Apparently, she always could sense him; his presence and emotions. He thought it was part of her Elvish magic, as he called her preternatural abilities. Kíli owed his life directly to her healing abilities, not once but twice. How many times she'd come to his rescue after sensing his distress he didn't know.

Focusing on Tauriel, Kíli extended his senses, feeling for her through their bond. He smiled as he registered her contentment. He was still working on their bond, but he hoped that one day he'd be able to help her as much as she helped him. Looking up, their gazes met and he read the amusement in her bright eyes. Clearly, she had sensed his efforts. He crawled from their bed, going over to her and setting a gentle hand on her belly. She could sense the child within, but Kíli had yet to sense the product of their union. She covered his hand with her own, smiling softly. She had only told him recently. Since then, however, he couldn't stop staring at her— as though watching her would make their child visible.

"Are you hungry? I can go and fetch you something," he blurted and she laughed quietly.

"We'll go together," she insisted, "anyways, I am dressed and you are not. Perhaps, I should be the one to bring you breakfast," she teased while he glared balefully at her.

"Stay put," he warned her, hurrying for his clothing while she laughed.

Care of an expectant mother was just as important as guarding children in Kíli's culture. As the father, he was supposed to care for Tauriel and their babe in any and every way possible. If he failed it reflected badly on him in the eyes of every dwarrow because he would not be a responsible father. Even if Tauriel sometimes chafed at his attentions, he refused to have it any other way. After all, Kíli knew how much attention was paid to other expectant mothers. He had no wish for Tauriel to see it and feel like their child was treated as lesser for its Elvish heritage.