Of Beards and Stubble - A fanfiction for The Hobbit
Title: Of Beards and Stubble
Characters: Kíli, Tauriel
Pairings: Kíli/Tauriel
Word Count: 974
Rating: K
Warnings: Contains DoS spoilers, Cheesyness
Summary: While talking about beards with Tauriel, Kíli realises that his beard (or well, the lack of it) is still one of his biggest concerns
Disclaimer: I do not own anything. The characters belong to J. R. R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson.
Of Beards and StubbleKíli was sitting by the fire with Tauriel in Bard’s house. He was still recovering from the injury he had got when they escaped from Thranduil’s palace. He was getting better and better every day, but the wound of a Morgul arrow took time to heal. Although his soul was ready to go after the company, his body was still too weak for that. At least he wasn’t alone; Fíli and Bofur were there with him, and also Bards’ children, as they had to stay in their house. Then there was Tauriel, that elf woman from Mirkwood who had just come out of nowhere and saved his life. He could still hardly believe that it hadn’t been a dream, even when she was sitting right next to him. Like on that afternoon.
The rest of their small group was out to find firewood and something for supper, so they were alone in the house which had been damaged due to the orc attack. Thus, while Kíli was recovering, Fíli, Bofur and Tauriel were working on its renovation, because the orcs had come to find the dwarves; they had nothing to do with the people of Lake Town.
Kíli felt bad for not being able to help with the restoration; for just sitting there watching the others work. The only thing he could do was to braid Sigrid and Tilda’s hair in every once in a while. He hated that he couldn’t give a hand when it was his fault that they had to stay here, uninvited, making the children’s burden heavier. The arrest of their father was more than enough for them to bear with; they didn’t need a wounded dwarf and an orc pack chasing them. However, the young lad and his sisters seemed to be strong enough to carry this burden and Kíli admired them for that.
“Is it true that dwarf women also have beards?” Tauriel asked.
Her question snapped the young dwarf out of his thoughts. His lips curled up into a small smile and he nodded.
“Yes, that’s true,” he said. “Dwarf women are also bearded,” His smile grew wider, seeing her furrowed eyebrows. It seemed hard for her to imagine women with beards. Kíli couldn’t really understand why, since for him it was normal seeing bearded women. On the other hand, he was also somehow amused by her struggle.
“I’d say imagine me or my brother in a skirt,” he added, trying to help her out, but when the elf started laughing, he realised that it wasn’t the best piece of advice. In fact, he managed to embarrass himself and Fíli in front of her. However, the picture of his brother wearing the skirt made him laugh, too.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-“ Tauriel apologised, but Kíli didn’t let her finish.
“It’s alright. I’m sorry. Please don’t imagine my brother in a skirt,” he said and they both burst out laughing as the picture came into their minds again. “Don’t tell this to Fíli,” he added, still chuckling.
It was somehow incredible that he was sitting there, laughing with an elf. He had never thought he would be doing something like this. He was taught that the elves were enemies to the dwarves. He was told that they were selfish and proud who didn’t come to help when it was needed. But this woman was nothing like what he knew about the elves. She was always so kind to him and without her he might have been dead by now.
“What I wanted to say was that women’s beards were a bit different from ours,” he continued, but suddenly he stopped again as he realised that he had said ‘ours,’ while his facial hair was still far from a beard. “I mean, from dwarf men’s,” he added and his cheeks turned red with shame. “Because my beard isn’t exactly a beard yet,” he admitted, lowering his glance. His beard was one of Kíli’s greatest concerns as he had always been surrounded by dwarves with mighty beards. In Thorin’s company everyone had one except for him. He was already 77 years old and he had nothing but stubble on his face. Sometimes he felt that it was his fault that he couldn’t grow a decent beard. He had been waiting for the moment to have one like his father had (he used to put fur on his face to pretend having a beard), but this moment didn’t come. What if it never comes?
Then he felt a hand on his face: soft skin brushing against his stubble. He was stunned by the gentle touch that took him by surprise. He wasn’t expecting Tauriel to touch him, nor was he expecting that fierce warrior’s hand to be so tender and soft. Warmth spread out in his body and soul, washing away his shame as he looked up at the smiling elf.
“You still have time to grow it,” she said softly. “Until then, this will be the finest stubble an elf has ever seen,” she added, running her thumb across his skin.
Although her last words sounded ridiculous, they made Kíli’s heart flutter and his cheeks turn red. Or was that rather her touch?
“Thank you,” he said with a smile, which probably made Tauriel realise how weird she must have acted, because she looked away from him, blushing. She also pulled her hand away from Kíli’s face, leaving a strange emptiness behind which made him want her to touch him again.
“I’m sorry,” the elf apologised, although Kíli wasn’t quite sure what for. For touching him? For saying something nice to him? For sounding silly? Whatever it was, the young dwarf didn’t mind it. Ridiculous or not, her words made him feel better. Without even thinking about it, he reached out for her hand.
“It’s alright,” he said.
Characters: Kíli, Tauriel
Pairings: Kíli/Tauriel
Word Count: 974
Rating: K
Warnings: Contains DoS spoilers, Cheesyness
Summary: While talking about beards with Tauriel, Kíli realises that his beard (or well, the lack of it) is still one of his biggest concerns
Disclaimer: I do not own anything. The characters belong to J. R. R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson.
Of Beards and StubbleKíli was sitting by the fire with Tauriel in Bard’s house. He was still recovering from the injury he had got when they escaped from Thranduil’s palace. He was getting better and better every day, but the wound of a Morgul arrow took time to heal. Although his soul was ready to go after the company, his body was still too weak for that. At least he wasn’t alone; Fíli and Bofur were there with him, and also Bards’ children, as they had to stay in their house. Then there was Tauriel, that elf woman from Mirkwood who had just come out of nowhere and saved his life. He could still hardly believe that it hadn’t been a dream, even when she was sitting right next to him. Like on that afternoon.
The rest of their small group was out to find firewood and something for supper, so they were alone in the house which had been damaged due to the orc attack. Thus, while Kíli was recovering, Fíli, Bofur and Tauriel were working on its renovation, because the orcs had come to find the dwarves; they had nothing to do with the people of Lake Town.
Kíli felt bad for not being able to help with the restoration; for just sitting there watching the others work. The only thing he could do was to braid Sigrid and Tilda’s hair in every once in a while. He hated that he couldn’t give a hand when it was his fault that they had to stay here, uninvited, making the children’s burden heavier. The arrest of their father was more than enough for them to bear with; they didn’t need a wounded dwarf and an orc pack chasing them. However, the young lad and his sisters seemed to be strong enough to carry this burden and Kíli admired them for that.
“Is it true that dwarf women also have beards?” Tauriel asked.
Her question snapped the young dwarf out of his thoughts. His lips curled up into a small smile and he nodded.
“Yes, that’s true,” he said. “Dwarf women are also bearded,” His smile grew wider, seeing her furrowed eyebrows. It seemed hard for her to imagine women with beards. Kíli couldn’t really understand why, since for him it was normal seeing bearded women. On the other hand, he was also somehow amused by her struggle.
“I’d say imagine me or my brother in a skirt,” he added, trying to help her out, but when the elf started laughing, he realised that it wasn’t the best piece of advice. In fact, he managed to embarrass himself and Fíli in front of her. However, the picture of his brother wearing the skirt made him laugh, too.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-“ Tauriel apologised, but Kíli didn’t let her finish.
“It’s alright. I’m sorry. Please don’t imagine my brother in a skirt,” he said and they both burst out laughing as the picture came into their minds again. “Don’t tell this to Fíli,” he added, still chuckling.
It was somehow incredible that he was sitting there, laughing with an elf. He had never thought he would be doing something like this. He was taught that the elves were enemies to the dwarves. He was told that they were selfish and proud who didn’t come to help when it was needed. But this woman was nothing like what he knew about the elves. She was always so kind to him and without her he might have been dead by now.
“What I wanted to say was that women’s beards were a bit different from ours,” he continued, but suddenly he stopped again as he realised that he had said ‘ours,’ while his facial hair was still far from a beard. “I mean, from dwarf men’s,” he added and his cheeks turned red with shame. “Because my beard isn’t exactly a beard yet,” he admitted, lowering his glance. His beard was one of Kíli’s greatest concerns as he had always been surrounded by dwarves with mighty beards. In Thorin’s company everyone had one except for him. He was already 77 years old and he had nothing but stubble on his face. Sometimes he felt that it was his fault that he couldn’t grow a decent beard. He had been waiting for the moment to have one like his father had (he used to put fur on his face to pretend having a beard), but this moment didn’t come. What if it never comes?
Then he felt a hand on his face: soft skin brushing against his stubble. He was stunned by the gentle touch that took him by surprise. He wasn’t expecting Tauriel to touch him, nor was he expecting that fierce warrior’s hand to be so tender and soft. Warmth spread out in his body and soul, washing away his shame as he looked up at the smiling elf.
“You still have time to grow it,” she said softly. “Until then, this will be the finest stubble an elf has ever seen,” she added, running her thumb across his skin.
Although her last words sounded ridiculous, they made Kíli’s heart flutter and his cheeks turn red. Or was that rather her touch?
“Thank you,” he said with a smile, which probably made Tauriel realise how weird she must have acted, because she looked away from him, blushing. She also pulled her hand away from Kíli’s face, leaving a strange emptiness behind which made him want her to touch him again.
“I’m sorry,” the elf apologised, although Kíli wasn’t quite sure what for. For touching him? For saying something nice to him? For sounding silly? Whatever it was, the young dwarf didn’t mind it. Ridiculous or not, her words made him feel better. Without even thinking about it, he reached out for her hand.
“It’s alright,” he said.