#so a codpiece is renaissance while the rest of Fee's attire is Medieval

[marigoldvance]

Courting Fíli

Part Three

for @legolaslovely​ because she deserves nice things 💛

Part One ׀ Part Two

note: let’s enjoy some of Fili’s POV, shall we? we’re skipping back in time to the day of The Banquet.

Fíli knows that his mother knows that Fíli isn’t at all interested in these proceedings; the silly ceremony of it. Banquets are all well and good when they’re held to honor someone else, Fíli thinks. Attention has never been something he enjoyed (unlike Kíli, who thrives in it) and it’s going to be made much worse now when the nobles and courtiers stare at him with too much interest, as though they expect him to perform some intricate carnival act.

All for the sake of debuting his virility and maturity.  

Fíli is aware – was made aware quite young, in fact – that all those in a line as paramount and distinguished as that of Durin, must endure this torture. He’s been prepared and prepared further for the day his years tick over into adulthood. The unnecessary pomp of being showcased like some prize broodmare— … Fíli grumbles under his breath as his esquire – who he’s never met before – fiddles with the clasps of his cape.

Normally, Fíli dresses himself. Normally, Fíli doesn’t have a roomful of attendants and servants milling about performing various tasks that normally aren’t bothered with. Such as polishing gems on a diadem that was loaned to the Durins by the Longbeards and smoothing the wrinkles in a cape Fíli doesn’t see the practicality in and putting his boots on his feet for him.

Normally, Fíli is, well, normal.

           “Not today, pet.” His mother, Lady Dís, says from where she sits primly in an ornate chair in the corner of his bedchamber. Her face softens when Fíli turns his head towards her, expression almost helpless as his esquire starts fastening the ties on the front of his formal surcoat (that he hadn’t owned until today). “Fíli, I understand that this all seems,” She waves a hand flippantly, “Excessive.”

Fíli huffs and raises a brow.  

           “And it is,” Dís agrees, “Even I thought so when it was my turn to be debuted. However, fifty is a lot of years as it is few. It should be celebrated!”

           “It’s not the celebration the concerns me, Amad. It’s all the rest.” Fíli almost chokes as his esquire tightens his collar. “Why bother will all of this when no one else is here as witness?”

           “Because,” Dís says, tone that of a mother sternly soothing a questioning dwarfling, “Traditions must be upheld.” Her gaze becomes distant when she adds with quiet sadness, “They’re all we have left.”

Fíli feels the sting of guilt in his heart. He didn’t mean to rouse memories of Erebor, and he can see that it continues to hurt his mother to remember it. And so, he decides, “Very well.”

The sun shines when Dís smiles and Fíli’s guilt subsides somewhat. For her, Fíli would do anything, including but not limited to – apparently – being wrapped up tighter than a sausage in clothes he’s sure were meant for someone with less bulk. These clothes are certainly not for someone with a body that labours in any way whatsoever; there’s no give in the seams and the layers are so stiff Fíli wonders if they were made to be worn on a statue that has no need for movement.

           “You look wonderful,” Dís stands and steps up to Fíli, taking his face between her palms and looking at him like the brightest star in the sky, “More majestic than your uncle could ever hope to be.”

           “Don’t let Uncle hear you say that.” Fíli whispers, teasing.

           “Oh, posh, what’s he going to do? Brood me to death?”

Fíli laughs and shakes his head, taking his mother’s hands in his and placing a kiss to her brow.

           “Right,” He says, “What else should I expect of this evening?”

Dís’ grin turns absolutely wicked when she answers, “A flush of fathers and mothers arguing at you about the comeliness of their daughters, of course.”

Fíli blanches, voice abandoning him. All he can do is stare at his mother with wide, frightened eyes while she straightens the shoulders of his cape and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. Even if he was able to say something in his defense, he isn’t sure he would given how much this whole circus means to his mother, to his family.

No wonder Kíli laughed his arse off the night before when they discussed the astonishing number of visiting maidens.

Finally, Fíli manages a weak, “I’m to be auctioned off, then, I suppose?”

           “Don’t be so dramatic.” Dís swats his chest lightly with the back of her hand, “This is typical for all who bleed blue blood. You’re expected to dance with a few ladies and put up with their fathers and that is all.”

           “That actually sounds quite significant. What if I offend someone!”

           “You won’t, Fíli. I suspect your brother will find a way to put the offense on himself, if need be.” Dís sucks in a large breath and releases it in a weary sigh. “Darling, everything is going to be alright. Remain kind and show respect as you usually do, and all will be well.”

Fíli takes a fortifying breath, his mother’s words a comfort. He notices for the first time in minutes that the room has settled around them and his esquire has stepped to the side, waiting patiently for instruction.

Dís examines Fíli’s attire with a critical eye but Fíli isn’t worried; as foolish as he feels, he suspects this is how his mother wishes to present him and she wouldn’t allow her eldest son, the heir after his uncle, to look like an idiot before such an enormous gathering of important folk.

No, he isn’t worried until Dís hums in deep consideration and commands his esquire to, “Get the codpiece.”

As soon as Dís leaves his chambers, his esquire smirks indecorously up at him. “Happy fiftieth,” the scoundrel says, not at all sympathetic to Fíli’s plight, and he gets to work tearing apart what remains of Fíli’s dignity.

-*-

Part Four

#Fili #imagines #The Hobbit imagines #Fili imagines #Fili x Reader #Fili/Reader #Fili x You #Fili/You #Fili x OFC #Fili/OFC #Middle Earth #courting #gifty by MarigoldVance #writing #my writing #so a codpiece is renaissance while the rest of Fee's attire is Medieval #given that it's Fantasy i'm not going to worry about it #the whole Esquire of the Body is Medieval while so much else is just ... #pulled from various times hahahaha #hope i didn't kill anyone's fantasy x)