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lathalea · 5 months

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THAUC23: Scattered Through Time

This is a story written by @joyfullynervouscreator and yours truly for this years' THAUC event organized by @fellowshipofthefics. Enjoy!

Moodboard by Lathalea

Scattered Through Time

Relationships: Dís/Dís's Wife Rating: G Warnings: bring tissues Author's notes: Time is merciless. It devours every single thing it meets on its way… almost. Somehow, a handful of memories remained. Once, they formed a kaleidoscope of life, full of shapes and colours. Now, they resemble a handful of stained glass pieces scattered on the bleak fabric of the past.

These are the letters between Dís, daughter of Thràin, and her beloved wife, Víli.

Link to the whole story:

My gleam of golden treasure,

I found your gift; snuck into my pocket during our final soft goodbye? You have a skilled hand with the chisel, even if you claim it not so, and I can only hope to match the swell of love I felt when I pulled the stone from my pocket with one that my words may pull from you.

I miss you, I love you.

I will return to you.

I swear it.

***

My Princess,

My betrothed,

It is such an honour to address you with these words. I am touching my betrothal braid and can feel the pattern you plaited as if it was today and not six days ago!

And now we are apart and I will not see you for three more days… It feels like an eternity. And to think we are to be wedded in seven months! If you were here with me, in the deep mines, you would laugh and call me “too impatient for my own good”. Yes, yes, good things are worth waiting for — but you are the best one, a true treasure, and I simply cannot wait until the day we become One before Mahal the Creator.

I still cannot believe my happiness. Or... do I dare to write “our happiness”, my Princess? Our. You and me. A daughter of kings from a legendary kingdom, a descendant of Durin himself, and a simple Broadbeam lass from the mines. A story I would not believe from the greatest of bards, and yet… Sometimes I wake up in the morning and wonder if I am dreaming a beautiful dream… I am dreaming of the way you smile when you look at me, so tenderly…

… of the afternoons we spend together, when I listen to you speaking of yet another problem with that latest contract and your clever solution…

… of the way your hair shines in the firelight, or the way your eyes light up when I show you a new block of carving stone…

… of the softness of your lips and the way your hand feels in mine as we walk through the newly constructed corridors of your city… our city.

And of the way you whisper my name.

I love, adore, and worship every single thing about you, Dís. My perfect princess.

If it is indeed a dream, I refuse to open my eyes! The only thing I wish to do is to take you in my arms and hold you close until the end of days, my beloved. My wife-to-be.

Forever yours,

Víli

Read the whole story on AO3.

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@fizzyxcustard @shrimpsthings @dark-angel-is-back @sherala007 @anyaspidergirl-blog @jotink78 @rachel1959 @saltwater-in-the-afternoon @linasofia @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @legolasbadass @yourqueenunderthemountain @reblogunderthemountain @guardianofrivendell @elrawienthewhite @xmly-xo @mrsdurin @nelleedraws @beenovel @vee-vee-writes @mcchiberry @dumbassunderthemountain @errruvande @laurfilijames @emrfangirl @s0ftd3m0n @lilith15000 @kami-chan1512 @ragsweas @enchantzz @aduialel @myselfandfantasy @thewhiteladyofrohan @middleearthpixie @i-did-not-mean-to @blairsanne @fckmini @clumsy-wonderland @wormsmith @mailinsblogofstuff @medusas-hairband @xxbyimm @knittastically @saucyminxbrainspill @quiall321 @frosticenow @glassgulls @evenstaredits

If your name is crossed out, that means I'm unable to tag you :(

#thauc23 #dís #lady Dís #dis #princess Dís #Dís x oc #Dís x wife #the hobbit #lotr #fanfic #f/f #f/f fanfic #f/f romance #love letters #ori #balin #happy ending

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vampiratedrawing · 1 year

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Lady Dís - Ered Luin era

There she is !! Dís, aka the love of my life !!This took me a frankly embarassing amount of time to complete, and it still isn’t exactly how I would want it. The fur made me want to fling myself from a window, but I endured, because I can’t imagine a Durin without a good heavy fur coat.

#i had to do something about the brainrot #i used some patterns we see on her sons' clothes on her coat and belt #dis #dís #lady dis #lady dís #princess dis #princess dís #line of durin #durin's folk #tolkien dwarves #dwarrowdam #tolkien #the hobbit #the hobbit fanart

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sylveongender · 6 months

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love to headcanon dís as being taller than thorin, she may be the baby but, i think she deserves to be the tall one

#and i think frerin is taller than them both #the hobbit #line of durin #durin family #thorin #thorin oakenshield #dís #lady dís #princess dís #dís durin

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milesasinmorales · 1 year

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Lady Dís on her throne

Click on the photo for better quality!

#lady dis #dis #princess dís #dis princess under the mountain #princess under the mountain #the hobbit #lotr #Tolkien dwarves #line of durin #the royal line of durin #fanart #my art #visual art #lotr fanart #the hobbit fanart #dahlias art tag

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neechees · 7 months

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#the hobbit #dís #dís the hobbit #lotr #tolkien #middle earth #princess dis #princess dís #durin's folk #dis #polls

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deadthingposting · 1 year

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Me everytime lady Dís princess of Erebor appears in a fic:

✨💖THERE 💖SHE💖 IS 💖MY 💖FAVORITE 💖MILF💖 ✨

#dís durin #dis princess of Erebor #my girl #Thorin's sister #kili and fili

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whamber · 2 years

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Princess Dís of Erebor 💙 💙 💙

#bagginshield #bilbo baggins #thorin oakenshield #dís #thilbo #my art

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yell0ws0ul · 1 day

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My girl Dís Durin deserved to be in at least ONE scene in the hobbit (at least in the flashbacks😭🙏)

LIKE CMON... SHE'S PRINCESS DÍS, DAUGHTER OF THRÁIN ||, SISTER OF THORIN AND FRERIN AND MOTHER TO FILI AND KILI

GIVE MY GIRL SOME CREDIT HERE LIKE- that's just so disrespectful😡

WE'VE BEEN ROBBED

#dis durin #lady dis #princess dis #fili durin #kili durin #kili and filli #thorin oakenshield #frerin durin #dwarrowdam #the Hobbit #i love dis durin

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dyingroses · 2 years

Conversation

Thorin: *holding baby Kili* I do hope the labor wasn't too hard

Dís: I think I called the midwife a "cunt"

Thorin: *laughs* *kisses Dís on the forehead*

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rynneer · 1 month

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Misty Memories Cold

When you wake in Fíli’s bed with no recollection of anything after a disaster in Mirkwood, he’s ready to risk anything, even his uncle’s wrath, to bring back what you had together.

The gown fits like a glove, hugging your figure up top and flaring out into a long skirt past your waist. Long, dark blue sleeves hang loosely from your arms, the velvet fluttering with every movement.

“It looks good on you,” Fíli remarks as he does your hair. His fingers dance past your fresh stitches and he lays the elegant braid down to hide them. His bead glitters at the end of your marriage braid. “There. That should keep them out of sight.”

Meanwhile, you awkwardly fumble with the corset laces on your back. Too tight, squeezing your sides painfully, but then too loose, your chest threatening to spill out. “Can’t I just wear my own bra?!” you snap in frustration.

Fíli’s hands cover yours. “Breathe in, not too deep.” You do, and he tightens the laces and tucks them beneath a silver ribbon around your waist, tying it into a neat bow. He moves next to your shoulders, kneading at them in an attempt to relieve your tension. His thumb rubs over your necklace, an intricate, twisting chain Fíli explained was a gift from Thorin.

“One last thing,” he says quietly, leaving you in front of the mirror as he fetches something from the wardrobe. He returns with a silver circlet and places it gently on your brow. The delicate web wraps around your head, a star-shaped sapphire mounted in the center. It matches his own crown, nestled in his thick hair.

“You look beautiful,” Fíli murmurs with a tender smile, resting his chin on your head. Half-closed eyes sweep up and down your reflection, and his smile brings out the dimples hidden beneath his beard. Pure adoration. “I’m the luckiest dwarf in the world.”

Your eyes drop to your feet. Dwarves are not particularly fond of heels, so instead you wear sensible yet elegant flats. “Do I have to go?” you whisper. The idea of being on display for a kingdom you don’t know makes you want to crawl into a hole and die.

Fíli’s smile falters. “It is expected. You are my wife, you are Erebor’s princess—the people love you.”

“Can’t you just say I’m sick or something?”

“There will only be more questions, and I am not a good liar,” he points out. “You cannot hide in here forever.” His voice is gentle, but tinged with a warning.

Wary of what awaits you on the other side of the doors, you haven’t left the royal suite at all—not even for meals. Fíli or Dís would bring you a plate, and Kíli would slip you extra desserts with a wink. Every time someone remarked that they hadn’t seen you in a few days, the others would merely agree, comment on how dedicated you are to your duties as princess, and steer the conversation in a different direction. You duck your head in shame and turn away.

“Y/N, please…” Fíli follows you over to his desk in the corner of the room.

Pushing aside parchment and empty inkwells, you brace yourself against the desk. You lean forward and let your head drop with a sigh.

Arms wrap around your waist. Fíli leans down to whisper in your ear. “Please, Y/N,” he repeats. “I want you there with me.” His warm breath fans over your neck and you suppress a shiver. It takes everything in you not to stiffen as his chest rests against your back.

You’re slowly getting accustomed to Fíli’s… touchiness. His need to feel your body, if only to reassure him that you are real. At least he’s warm compared to the chill that lingers in the halls.

You let out a shuddering sigh. “Okay.”

Your breath catches in your chest as you, Fíli, and Kíli approach the enormous, stone doors. They are open already, revealing hundreds of dwarves milling around inside. Your pulse quickens. This is what you had feared, what kept you hiding for over a week. The kingdom all watching you while you try to pretend nothing is wrong.

The long tables have been moved to the side to create a more spacious area for dancing. You spot Bofur straddling a large barrel near the doors while Dori gives him directions. He brightens up and raises a hand in greeting as you enter the hall.

“Hi Bofur.” You squint up at him. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to get this cursed thing open,” Bofur puffs. He pauses and looks down at you. “Something wrong? You look a bit pale.”

You give Bofur a strained smile. “Just… just a bit of a stomachache, that’s all.”

He raises an eyebrow, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. “Stomachache, eh? I don’t suppose there’s anything else going on in there?”

You stare at him blankly. Then it hits you. “Oh! No, absolutely not!”

Bofur seems taken aback at your reaction, but Dori gives you a friendly nudge. “No need to be upset, lass. These things can take some time. Just keep at it, eh?”

“What was that about?” you hiss under your breath to Fíli as the dwarves’ attention returns to the barrel of ale.

Fili links your arms as you approach the high table. “It’s, ah, a bit of an open secret that we are—or were—trying for a baby. Thanks to a certain younger brother.” He gives Kíli a pointed look over his shoulder.

Kíli feigns innocence, but he can’t hide his mischievous smirk. “What? All I did was warn them in case you started making too much noise!”

“You have no shame,” Fíli snorts. He glances back to you. “I did tell you they’d ask questions if you claimed you felt ill.”

Thorin and Dís give you guarded looks as Fíli pulls out your chair. You try to smile, but it comes off more as a tight-lipped grimace.

“Relax, natha,” Dís whispers. “Just breathe and smile. The rest will come naturally.”

Naturally. Sure.

To avoid thinking about… anything, really, you look out over the gathering. You raise an eyebrow when you spy a small group of noticeably taller guests. There’s a familiar redhead among them. Kíli, bless his heart, is trying his best not to stare. If Thorin’s scowl is anything to go by, he’s not doing a very good job.

“Hell of a birthday party,” you mutter to Fíli. “Elves? Thorin really let Dís invite elves?”

“She talked him into it,” he says with a shrug. “Said it’s good for diplomacy, a show of good-will. They were supposed to be here for trade negotiations anyway.”

“Including her?”

“That was most likely Amad’s doing as well. She doesn’t have quite the vendetta against elves that Thorin does.” His voice drops into an even lower whisper. “She likes her, thinks she’d be good for Kíli. Keep him grounded, perhaps. All she has to do is convince Thorin.”

“She’s got her work cut out for her there,” you snort.

Fíli hums in agreement, but he too scans the crowd. “Glóin’s missing,” he comments. “Shame, I would have liked to see Gimli. It’s been quite a while.”

“Did Glóin not stay in Erebor?” It’s hard for you to fathom, the idea of breaking the Company, of anyone being absent.

“An agonizing decision. He didn’t want to relocate his entire family.” Fíli pauses and chuckles. “Gimli practically begged to come on the quest—we took bets on whether or not he’d follow–”

But his words are drowned out by music starting from the band in the far corner of the room. Excited couples move to the center of the hall.

Dís reaches across the table to shake Fíli’s arm. “It is your celebration,” she murmurs. “Go have fun.”

“I believe that is your cue, Y/N,” Kíli adds with a wink.

Fíli kicks his brother underneath the table, but stands and offers you a hand. “May I have this dance?”

“Do I know how to dance?” you whisper frantically as you take his hand. You lift your skirt as he leads you down the steps to the dance floor. “I’m pretty sure I don’t know how to dance!”

“I taught you,” he whispers back. “Just don’t think about it. Let your body do the work.” He places one hand on the small of your back, the other holding yours. A violin comes to life, and suddenly the world fades. It’s just you and Fíli. He starts off gently, slowly, picking up speed. “Don’t look at your feet, look at me. Trust yourself.”

You nod stiffly, still feeling clumsier than a newborn giraffe compared to the surprising grace with which Fíli moves. Though perhaps it shouldn’t be such a surprise, given how skillfully he maneuvers with his swords during a fight. You begin to relax into the rhythm and let him guide you through the steps until muscle memory takes over.

“Get ready,” he murmurs, releasing your hand and gripping your waist firmly. He lifts you up and spins so your skirt flows out around you. Then in one smooth motion, he dips you low. The music fades, and he straightens up, eyes locked with yours. He leans in until his mustache beads hit your face and his nose brushes yours. But then he stops, eyes worried, questioning.

There’s hundreds of curious eyes on you both, burning like dragon fire, waiting to see what their prince and princess will do next.

Conscious of your audience, you stand on your toes and carefully press your lips to his. Instantly, his arm around your waist tightens. Fíli lifts you off your feet, hugging you against his body and pulling your head closer with his free hand. Your kiss was soft, chaste. His is rough, desperate. You aren’t quite ready for it, and decline his tongue’s request to explore your mouth. You squirm in his grip.

Fíli releases you and your lips. There’s scattered applause from the room as Fíli sets you back on your feet. “I told you I taught you how to dance.” But there’s no teasing lilt to his voice, no cheeky wink to signal amusement. He won’t make eye contact.

For the rest of the night, it’s like pulling teeth to get a word out of him. Dís and Thorin exchange looks of concern when he quickly excuses himself from his own party after dessert. Then their eyes turn to you.

“He, uh… I think I’m ready to turn in as well,” you mumble. “G’night.”

In your chambers, you carefully remove your dress and slip into your nightgown, very aware of Fíli’s gaze on you. But when you try to meet his eyes, he always seems to be looking elsewhere. You sigh as you pull pins out, letting the braid fall from your hair. Silence hangs heavily, neither of you speaking a word for what seems like hours.

“Was it real?” Fíli asks abruptly.

“Was what real?”

“You know what I mean. When we danced, when we were finished… was it real?” Or was it just what was expected of you?” His voice is clipped, bitter.

You turn to look at him on the edge of the bed, shaking your head in bewilderment. “What are you talking about?”

Fíli stares at the floor. “I am trying so hard,” he mutters at last, running a hand down his face. He looks up at you, eyes dull. “I miss my wife.”

Your heart sinks. “Fíli, I’m right here.”

“But you’re not,” he replies sharply. “You are somewhere, and I cannot reach you.” He stands from the bed, taking your face into his hands. “How often do I tell you that I love you?”

“Every day.”

“And how many times have you said it back?”

You open your mouth, but the words won’t follow. It’s been a week, but you can’t recall ever saying it. Tears well up in your eyes.

As if your silence confirmed something in his mind, Fíli’s hands drop from your face. “Right, then.” He nods slowly and turns away. “I… I need to think.”

Though he hasn’t asked you to leave, he would never, you make for the door. “Happy birthday,” you whisper before heading down the hallway.

Kíli’s room? No, he probably snuck Tauriel in there. Dís? She would want to talk about it, and you’re not in the mood for solutions. What you need is quiet companionship.

So your feet carry you past the living room, down the hall, to a wooden door rimmed with gold.

“Thorin?” Your voice is small. For a moment, you worry he won’t hear you on the other side.

Heavy footsteps precede the door opening. Thorin looks down at you, book in hand, mildly irritated at being interrupted. He softens when he sees your expression, wide-eyed and hurt. Heaving a sigh, Thorin opens his door further. “Come in.”

You follow him inside, curling up on a plush chair by the dying fire.

“What did he say?”

“Nothing.”

“Do not insult my intelligence. You are a worse liar than Fíli.”

“Nothing,” you insist. “He just… wants to be alone for a bit. That’s all.”

Thorin snorts and shakes his head, but there’s pity on his face as well. How can the girl curled up and shivering in the chair be the same brave woman from their quest?

Your vision is almost completely obscured by tears, but you refuse to let yourself cry in front of the king. Your king. And your uncle, now, you suppose. He drapes a blanket over your shoulders.

That’ll do it. That simple, kind gesture is all it takes for you to break down.

Thorin stares at you in alarm as you sob into the blanket. He hasn’t had to deal with something like this since the boys were children. After waffling back and forth on what to do, he settles on patting your shoulder awkwardly. “Stay, if you’d like,” he mumbles. He extinguishes the candles he had been reading by and crosses back over to the enormous bed in the corner of the room.

You’re swallowed in darkness, the gloom broken only by faint moonlight and dying embers. Without Fíli’s furnace of a body next to you, the mountain’s chill creeps in beneath your blanket.

It will be a long night.

“Oh come on, every lady must know how to dance!” Kíli rolled his eyes in exasperation.

You shook your head and crossed your arms, sinking further against the mossy log by the fire. “I’m not a lady.” you grumbled. The bark dug into your back, and you missed the warmth and proper beds you had in Lake-town.

“Well then, we must teach you!” Fíli jumped up and offered his hand with a cheeky smile and exaggerated bow. “Oh, most fair and lovely maiden, may I have this dance?”

You looked over to Thorin, hoping he would scold his nephews for their teasing. But he merely raised an eyebrow at you, sucking on his pipe. It was the same guarded, skeptical look he’d given you and Fíli after the escape from Mirkwood.

Fíli hardly left your side ever since—usually dragging Kíli along. He would wrap his arm around your waist, or duck his head to nuzzle your ear and whisper things that made you snicker as you half-heartedly tried to push him away.

Even Thorin, not exactly known for being perceptive, could see what was happening. He’d seen the look before on his sister’s face, many years ago. Fíli was in love, smitten, even. There was no other way to describe it.

He had found his One.

And if the glow in your eyes and blush on your cheeks whenever you met Fíli’s gaze were anything to go by, so had you.

When your silent plea to Thorin went unanswered, you sighed and accepted Fíli’s hand. “Fine. Just don’t crush my feet or anything.” Not for the first time, you marveled at how easily Fíli could pull you up.

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll be the one stepping on anyone’s toes tonight,” he chuckled. With one arm around your waist, he took your hand. “Just mirror what I’m doing,” he instructed. You gave your audience a nervous glance, but Fili squeezed your hand, beckoning you to look back up at him. “Just the two of us.”

As he stepped backwards, you stepped forward. When he stepped to the side, you followed.

Fíli smiled. “There you go, you’re getting it!” But he moved a bit too quickly, and your momentum sent you stumbling over a tree root rising from your makeshift dance floor. His arm shot out to catch you, his large hand splayed across your chest. You both turned scarlet when you realized what his palm was cupping. Immediately, he moved his hand lower, but that did nothing but bring his fingers dangerously close to the forbidden zone.

“Careful,” you hissed under your breath, sneaking a peek at the Company. Everyone was watching. “You’re a bit too far south.”

He turned even redder and released you. “Maybe we can practice when we have a more… suitable venue?”

“You can’t be finished yet, Fíli,” Bofur scolded with a grin. “You haven’t shown her the best part!”

“It’s not nearly as fun while she’s wearing trousers,” Fíli grumbled. “She needs a dress for it to work properly.”

Indignation stirred in your chest, and crossed your arms, glaring up at the blonde prince. Your face was still flushed red from the almost intimate moment between the pair of you. “I’m terribly sorry I’m not lady-like enough for your tastes,” you huffed.

“It’s not that!” he sputtered with wide eyes. “It’s…” You could almost see the gears in his head turning, weighing his options to salvage the moment. “It’s like this.”

Suddenly, his hands gripped your waist, and he raised you up in the air. With practiced ease, Fíli spun both of you around. Your hair fanned out around you like a halo. Just as you finished the turn, he dipped you down low, so low you were surprised he didn’t fall over himself.

Everything went still. You held your breath while he started breathing harder. You spared another look at the Company.

they’re staring they’re staring oh god have we kissed in front of thorin before i don’t think we’ve kissed in front of thorin oh no what’s he going to–

Fíli quickly reclaimed your attention as he rubbed his nose against yours, his mustache beads cool against your heated skin. And then his lips were on yours, warm and soft, driving any thoughts of self-consciousness from your mind. He ran his fingers through your hair, and you reached up to fist your hands in his own locks, both of you pulling each other closer.

“I suppose this is official now?” you whispered when he finally broke away for air.

Fíli’s only response was a lopsided smile.

Someone let out a whistle—Kíli, of course. Fíli rolled his eyes and straightened up, his fingers still tangled in your hair.

Heavy footsteps sounded behind you. You tensed, afraid to turn around in fear of what you might find on Thorin’s face. Fíli rubbed his hand up and down your back. Searching his face and not finding any anger or defiance as he looked at his uncle, you spared a look over your shoulder.

It wasn’t what you expected. Thorin looked tired, stern, yes, but almost relieved. As if he had carried a heavy burden for miles, and finally laid it down.

“Thorin, I–” you began.

He cut you off with a small shake of his head. “Just… be good to each other.” He put a strong hand on Fíli’s shoulder and said something in Khuzdûl. You didn’t understand the words, but Fíli’s face brightened. Other members of the Company began whispering among themselves.

“What?” You exchanged a confused look with Bilbo, the only other person not fluent in the dwarves’ native tongue. “What did he say?”

Fíli just smiled. “Nothing important,” he assured you. He sat down and pulled you into his lap, pausing to press his nose into your hair to inhale your scent. You hardly imagined you smelled good, but he let his nose linger. Then he carded his fingers through your hair, ridding it of tangles and knots until he had a soft, neat canvas for his artistry. Taking the strands into his hands, he wove an intricate braid, humming as he did so.

Fíli looked again to Thorin, then Kíli. His brother nodded, a genuine, non-teasing smile on his face.

Reassured by his family’s approval, he removed one of his own beads and fixed it at the end of your new courting braid.

As soon as he secured it, cheers rose from the rest of the Company. Small bags and pieces of gold flew across camp—were they betting on you and Fíli? Kíli wiggled his eyebrows at you as his pile of coins grew.

But as the gold stopped flying and the losers stopped grumbling, you realized that Thorin had the biggest pile of them all.

He caught your eye, face perfectly impassive, and winked.

#fanfiction #fíli #kíli #fili x you #fili x reader #the hobbit #thorin oakenshield #dís #angst and hurt/comfort #it gets angstier before it gets fluffier #don’t say i didn’t warn you #everybody lives

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lathalea · 1 year

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Please, Fili x reader, Perfect proposal :) Thank you!

Hiii @heilith 💚💚💚 I hope you still remember your ask for the Sweet and Spicy Bingo by @fellowshipofthefics :) I'm sorry it took me so long (real life happens), but here it is. I hope you'll like it!

Relationships: Fili x Reader

Rating: G

Warnings: none

✨ Perfect Proposal ✨

Fíli looked into the mirror and gave his moustache a nervous tug. There was not even a single wrinkle on the festive clothes he wore, his hair was freshly braided and adorned with beads and yet his face seemed uncharacteristically pale. He swallowed. It was finally going to happen today, after so much waiting, after years of pining for you in secret, and—what was most important—after surviving the Quest. Now Erebor was reclaimed and he was finally able to speak of his feelings and ask you to marry him. Fíli dreamed of the moment when he would be allowed to call you his wife… if you agreed to his proposal, that is.

His stomach decided to tie itself into a knot and Fíli realized that he was even more terrified—no, warriors never got terrified!—he was even more nervous than before the Battle of Five Armies began. What was worse, at the very moment when he imagined your lovely face, your smile, and the way your soft lips parted, saying “yes”, every single word of his well-rehearsed speech seemed to have disappeared from his mind.

Muttering a swearword under his breath, Fíli left his chambers. A breath of fresh air was all he needed to clear his head. He was a prince, after all, and he would act like one. He only needed to find his composure. There was still some time until he was going to meet you for dinner in the Royal Wing. Everything was prepared, the music, the atmosphere, the candles, the food... It just had to be perfect. He had to make it happen. But now, Fíli needed a few moments to himself, and he had to be quick about it. Hurriedly, he directed his steps towards one of the outer terraces of the Lonely Mountain.

As he strode ahead, barely registering the surroundings, his mind focused on recalling the speech he was about to make, something thudded against his chest.

“Ouch!” a familiar voice reached his ears. Your voice.

“Gamzûna! What are you doing here?!” Fíli used the moniker you gained after one of the orc attacks during the Quest. It meant “fierce lady”. He looked straight into your eyes, smiling.

“I’m so very sorry, Fíli! I mean, I didn’t…” you started, trying to catch your breath. At that very moment you both realized something. You stood very, very close to Fíli, your hands placed against his hard chest, his arms wrapped around you. He must have instinctively embraced you at the very moment you bumped into him.

“It looks like you have been in a hurry,” he murmured with that alluring smile of his. His arms were still around you, holding you close. Fíli was not letting you go. You tried not to think of what would happen if someone saw you embracing in the middle of a public corridor, his face so close to yours.

“I was seeing Princess Dís and realized what time it was, and I wanted to be quick so that I wouldn’t be late for…” your voice trembled. “For the dinner you invited me to.”

“You are here and I am here too. It seems that we have plenty of time to reach the dining hall, don’t you think?” Fíli winked playfully. “By the way, you look stunning tonight.”

The smile you gave him in return was barely visible.

“Thank you. Since this is going to be our last evening together, I thought…” you cleared your throat, looking away and pulling at one of the intricate laces of your elegant bottle-green dress.

“What are you talking about, Gamzûna?! Last evening? Are you going somewhere?!” Fíli’s eyes widened. He was so close to telling you about everything he felt for you! That couldn’t be happening!

“It seems so,” you took a deep breath. You dreaded every single word of what you were about to say, but it needed to be done. There was that old saying, If you love someone, set them free–right?

“Please, tell me that you are joking! You can’t go!” Fíli protested. His embrace became even tighter.

“It will be for the best. You’ll see. Until today, I had hoped that tonight…” you tried not to sob and shook your head instead. “I like you, Fíli. I really do. And we grew closer during the Quest, all those evenings together, all the dangers we survived… I felt the bond between us was special. You were always so good to me, so caring. I don’t know when exactly I understood what I felt for you, but tonight I wanted to tell you… Well, it doesn’t matter now any more, does it? No, please, let me finish. Today at breakfast Balin say that you needed a wife now, someone worthy of you. And Bofur added this had to be someone who made you smile. Dwalin kept on saying how you admired women who were fearless warriors. And then Kili told me that a beautiful lady stole your heart a long time ago and that it was time you proposed to her. Ori even wanted to show me her picture but then Thorin told everyone to stop prattling. Fíli, it is time for me to return to my old life in the Blue Mountains. I will not stand in the way of your happiness, but I wanted to have this last evening with you. For old times’ sake.”

Fíli’s heart beat strong and fast under his tunic. His brow furrowed. His eyes searched your face in silence.

“I’m going to kill every single last of them!” He finally huffed.

Your jaw dropped. That was the last thing you expected him to say.

“Fíli…?”

“Yes. I’m going to strangle Balin! Then I’m going to cook Bofur in a stew! And I’ll throw Dwalin from the rampart!”

“Fíli! What are you talking about?!”

“ I’ll feed every single one of them to the mountain trolls! And I’ll drop an avalanche right on the top of my brother’s stupid head! That lulkh! And Ori…”

“Please, Fíli! Could you at least let me go?”

“No! You are not going anywhere!” Sparks of anger glinted in his eyes as he covered your hands with his. His voice softened. “Gamzûna, will you tell me now what you wanted to tell me tonight? I would very much like to hear it.”

“There’s nothing I can tell you,” you whispered, avoiding his gaze. “You are supposed to marry that beautiful lady of yours, remember?”

Fíli was now holding your hands in his. His skin was as warm as sun on midday. And his radiant smile was back on his lips, his moustache beads clinking as he tilted his head.

“Aye, it seems that the cat is out of the bag now,” he chuckled, making you frown.

“What’s so funny?”

“Come. See for yourself,” he held your hand and pulled you gently after him, down the corridor. “There is a lady whom I want to marry. She makes me smile and she is one of the fiercest warriors I know. And she captured my heart on the day I met her. This is her.”

As he spoke, he turned you around until you faced one of the stone walls of the corridor. This particular wall was covered with a large mirror in a golden frame.

You were looking at your own reflection.

“What are you saying, Fíli?” your eyes met the reflection of his silver-blue gaze.

“I love you, Gamzûna,” he murmured, stepping to face you, his voice laced with tenderness. “Was that what you wanted to tell me too?”

“I’m afraid not,” you replied.

“Oh…” Fíli’s smile faded away.

Now it was your time to chuckle and hold his hands in yours.

“I wanted to ask you whether you would do me the honour of becoming my husband, Fíli, son of Dís.”

“Gamzûna…” Slowly, reverently Fíli cradled your face with his palms as his lips hovered over yours. “You are perfect.”

“Does that mean ‘yes’?” you whispered, brushing your nose against his.

“Guess,” his hot breath fanned your skin a moment before your lips met but you already knew the answer.

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