but all the symbolism behind kíli’s runestone
just
wow
because the runestone made of labradorite, and according to Inuit folklore, labradorite fell from the frozen fire of the aurora borealis and became trapped in stone. At first glance, it looks like a regular rock; but if you turn it to the light it flashes a brilliant blue, like gems in the dark. That flash from ordinary to extraordinary is symbolic of the change, of the quick contrast between the heavens and the earth, the ordinary and the extraordinary. When we see the runestone in Kíli’s hand, it doesn’t look particularly beautiful. But when Tauriel picks it up, you can see that bright blue, the mystical flash of the northern lights. Tauriel is immortal; she is something of the stars (like the aurora borealis), something otherworldly [cf. “she walks in starlight in another world”]. But Kíli isn’t. He’s mortal; he something of earth, of stone, not cold and austere like the elves Tauriel has grown up around— he’s tangible. Kíli brings out the youth in Tauriel, like the runestone brings out the flashing blue like the northern lights.
[the runestone is also symbolic of their relationship. In DoS, when their talking about the stars, Kíli remarks, “it is a cold light, remote and far away”; and later, he says “she is far, far, away”; to him, Tauriel is unobtainable. But then Tauriel shoots this down, says, “it is memory, precious and pure”; that she’s not above loving him.]
“This connection between them, it’s doomed from the beginning. But it’s no less beautiful for being doomed.” [x] I don’t think their love story (if you can call it that) is doomed from the beginning. I think it’s doomed from the point when Kíli presses the runestone into Tauriel’s palm. Because it chains her to him, by that promise, innikh dê, “return to me.” And we all know that stars can’t be chained to the earth. And when Kíli dies, he drags her down; her drags her down from the immortality of the elves, austere and unfading, down to death. Kind of like a falling star.
