⊱ fairytales by firelight ⊰ || naugriim
❝ You ought to sleep, ❞ The dwarf repeated, his voice soft but insisting, as he sought out Tauriel’s gleaming bright eyes with wonderment and fascination. She has lovely eyes, he thought, a short smile gracing his lips; as beautiful as stars, the distant, cold stars.
❝ Did I now? ❞ The constant reminder of how painfully weak he had been annoyed him to a certain degree - on the contrary - he was glad to know that she cared, ❝ But I am better now, so you need not worry yourself. In fact, you needn’t ever worry. ❞
Kili had always been quick witted, but sickly as he was, he found it to be quite difficult. The fever was weakening him for sure, but he would not admit to that.
Flinching ever so slightly when a cool cloth was placed gently against his burning forehead, a soft groan escaped him. ❝ Is that really necessary? ❞ He complained, uncomfortable with how terribly dizzy the cold made him feel. Again, he wasn’t used to being weak for he had always been much the opposite - always reckless and filled with the bravery of youth.
Soundlessly he lifted one of his large, rough hand, and rested it upon hers.He did not understand her care for him, but appreciated it even so. Looking at her, he smiled an effortless smile, and said ❝ And, if I may ask, what was that you called me? Aieiar? ❞ No, that was not it, but she would know what he meant, for it was the only elvish word she had spoken since he had awoken.
Kili wondered if it was hard to learn - it was a fine language, fine and soft-spoken, but it was not like khuzdul, the language of his own kin. If ever he came across Gandalf again, he’d make sure to ask him to teach him a few words. Yes, once he was healthy again, he would be able to do so.
She held his gaze, a breath falling from her nose as she exhaled, and let her shoulders fall. Certainly she had known he was handsome; it was his humor and sense of awareness that attracted her in the first place! But, the Silvan Elf couldn't help the swelling in her chest as the injured Dwarf began to fret over her. To this, Tauriel simply batted her heavy lids and shook her head his way.
"I am sorry," the apology brushed past her lips as she spoke, regret filling the words and weighing them down. The sank alongside her commanding facade, wilting into a blush. "The cold aided the fever prior; it will help."
When his hand fell atop of her own, the Elf gave a slight smile, nearly glowing in the light of his own. "I promise you will return to full health, Kili. -- And I do not make promises often."
Taking the calloused, battle-worn hand into her own, she turned it over, carefully tracing the heart lines creased into his palm; Tauriel admired each and every bend, curve, scar and blister as she spoke, her whisper teeming with lightheartedness.
"It was a term of endearment," she muttered, "Aier -- Short one, I believe, would provide as the proper translation."
Her eyes were full of a youthful mischief, one that she had long since been robbed of, and the Elf couldn't help but let an airy laugh escape her chest as she let one of her hands return to his hair, soothing the strands around his face. Her fingertips grazed his cheek; the feverish feel was already receding.
"--I do believe it fits quite well."














