Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Fili tries to stay calm but he’s always had trouble doing that when away from his brother, especially when they’ve been forcibly separated. It had taken all the self control he could muster not to beg to be put in the same cell with Kili but it was for the best that he didn’t show any weakness to his enemies and it’s not as though the pleadings of a dwarf would have swayed them anyway. The situation chafes him raw but when there’s nothing to be done there’s nothing to be done. He’s SURE uncle Thorin will think of something...though that confidence does flag a little when he sees his uncle dragged kicking and screaming back to his own cell deeper in the dungeon. Ma often scolds Thorin for his hot temper and Fili’s beginning to side with her. He’s sure she’ll be delighted to hear that...mostly because it’ll mean that he survived long enough to tell her.

“You keep those boys alive, Thorin Oakenshield, you keep them alive or you’d better hope that I never see you again.”

That’s what she’d said as they departed to retake the mountain. It feels like it’s been years since he’s last heard his mother’s voice and though the thought makes his heart ache he tries to appear unphased by the situation. Seeming not to care has always been a secret weapon of his. He can’t see anything in the darkness outside his cell but he can feel keen, cold elven eyes on him. If only they’d left him his pipe...he finds it easiest to look nonchalant when he’s smoking.

He eventually settles for sitting on the floor with his back against a wall and pretending to be dosing. He tries to think, there’s a lock pick in hidden in his hair (the oh-so-clever elves hadn’t thought to look there) but he can’t use it until he knows the coast is clear and Mahal knows when that’ll be. Hours go by and he can still hear shuffling around out there and it occurs to him he’s never actually picked a lock, not under duress like this any way. As he’s wondering at exactly how different elvish dungeon locks could possibly be from the old, rusty, dwarvish ones he’s managed to practice on back home, he suddenly realizes that that feeling of being watched has intensified. He looks up and sees the red haired she-elf from the party that had captured them standing the doorway to his cell as though politely waiting to be noticed.

”By Mahal, how do you people not make noise when you walk?”

She completely ignores the question and dives right in to what she’s been sent there to say.

”King Thranduil will speak to you in his private chambers.”

It’s NOT a question and when she says it there’s a tension in her voice that might be anxiety, though elves aren’t exactly easy to read.

”I know we probably all look alike to you,” He says with deliberate disdain, “but Thorin is the scowly one with the black hair.”

”I know that you are not Thorin Oakenshield.” She gives a strained smile that comes across as more of a snarl. “My king requested to speak with Thorin’s heir.”

”Oh, he’s ‘requesting’ now, is he?” Fili arches a brow. “Well then, you can tell him I said thanks but no thanks.”

She sighs but does not falter.

”He’s said that if you will not come willingly, I’m to bind you and carry you to him.”

He looks at her incredulously but her expression remains serious. He gets to his feet. She shackles his hands behind him and leads him up a narrow, stone staircase out of the dungeon and down a long stone catwalk that leads to a throne room (at least he thinks that’s a throne) and down a corridor at the back of the throne room. When they get to a set of intricately gilded double doors, the she-elf stops and knocks. A deep, frosty voice from inside bids them enter and she opens the door and ushers him in ahead of her.

Fili is walked down a short passageway and through a crimson curtain. He’s surprised to emerge in a huge bedchamber. She’d said ‘private quarters’ but Fili has still been expecting something at least slightly formal. Kings don’t usually have prisoners brought to their bedrooms for negotiations, do they? Bawlin’s done his best to educate Fili about what it means to be a king but he’s never mentioned anything like that.

The room is, in fact, huge with a proportionately large, four-poster bed against the far wall and a small, round bathing pool in it’s center. The king is busying himself at a table off to the left, pouring wine into goblets, he does not react when they enter.

”Your majesty.” The she elf speaks in a reverent tone. “I’ve brought the dwarf you requested.”

”That will be all Tauriel.” The king’s voice reminds Fili of those seemingly originless echos one sometimes hears in very deep caves. It chills his insides. “Oh, and remove his shackles before you go.”

Tauriel looks as though she’s about to object but then seems to think better of it. She takes a key from her belt and Fili extends his hands for her to remove his bonds. When she’s finished she bows even though the kings back is still turned and the makes to leave. Just before she passes through the curtain she glances back at Fili and her expression is almost...worried?

The king waits to hear the door close and then turns to address Fili. Fili hadn’t ever actually seen an elf until they entered the Mirkwood and so far he’s found them all eerily unnatural looking. The king is no exception (if anything he’s a prime example.) He looks like a statue carved out of opals, his hair strands of silver and his eyes azurite. He’s like one of those beautiful objects that are made unsettling by how closely they resemble living things.

”Good evening.” The unsettlingly lifelike statue says in it’s deep-echo voice and Fili starts just a little.

“Evening.” He does his best to convey nothing at all in his reply but he hadn’t realized until now just how dry his mouth is. All the same, he draws himself up to his full height and forces himself to look as close to the elf’s eyes and he can bare, it’s what uncle Thorin would do.

”Drink?” the elf king holds out one of the goblets to him and he takes it automatically but doesn’t drink from it. Sensing his distrust, the king takes a long, slow swallow from his own goblet. Fili counters with a careful sip from his. The liquid inside is sweet yet crisp and he has to resist the urge to gulp it all down.

”Listen...” Fili finds himself blurting out before the king can get a word in. “I assume you wanted to talk to me because you didn’t have any luck with Thorin but I don’t have any control over anything...Thorin’s barely even talked to me since we started out.”

When the elf king only regards him silently for a long moment, Fili shrugs by way of apology.

“That IS strange.” The king finally speaks. “One would think that the Son of Thrain would want to teach his heir how to handle himself in a leadership position.”

”Guess he’s saving that for later.” Fili says and then winces at the sharpness in his own voice. He can tell that he does NOT want this particular elf angry with him, so he goes on in a milder tone.

”Truth be told, I’m not his second in command or third or even fourth.” He forces a self deprecating laugh. “If you’re looking for whoever’s just under Thorin, you’d probably want to go for...Dwalin...I think.”

”No.” The king says flatly. “It is most certainly you with whom I wish to speak.”

The king takes another swallow from his goblet and Fili does the same, not wanting to seem like a light weight. He regrets the decision when the wine instantly goes to his head. Who’d have thought the elf wine would be such strong stuff? He shakes his head to clear it and when he looks back up again he could swear he sees the barest hint of a smirk flicker across the elf’s features.

”I don’t suppose your uncle has had the opportunity to tell you about our negotiations.”

”No, but I gather from the state he was in when they brought him back to the dungeon that it didn’t go well.”

”How very observant of you.” Fili genuinely cannot tell if the king is being sarcastic. “I must admit I was not surprised to find Thorin Oakenshield as...emotional as his grandfather.”

”I reckon he’s still a little sore about the...”At a loss for a non-inflammatory way to say ‘betrayal’ Fili’s forced to simply let that sentence go.

”Yes, I assumed he would be...which is why I offered him my aid.”

Fili is so caught off guard by this that he nearly drops his goblet. It’s certainly the last thing he expected to hear from the man who featured as a villain in so many of his childhood bedtime stories.

”Why would you do that?” The words leave his mouth before he can consider rather or not it’d be wise to say them out loud. To his surprise, the kings eyes sparkle with amusement.

”Do you honestly think your people are the only ones who stand to gain should the mountain be reclaimed?”

Fili gropes in his mind for an answer to that question but can think of none that wouldn't reveal how ignorant he is about the role the mountain plays in local politics. Bawlin has lectured him on it more than once but he’s found the subject horribly dry and cannot for the life of him specifically remember anything about it. Luckily, the king doesn’t seem to expect an answer.

”Yes, I offered your uncle my aid in exchange only for the return of something your great grandfather stole from me long ago. He declined, apparently because he would prefer to keep my property.”

Fili’s knee-jerk reaction is to come to the defense of his kinsmen. He wants to say that the king must be skewing the truth (or outright lying), that his great grandfather was not a thief (at least not that he’s ever heard) and most of all that his uncle is a good and honorable man and would not jeopardize their mission just for petty spite...he also wants dearly to believe those things but a small, traitorous...rational part of his brain whispers to him that it’s entirely possible Thorin did exactly that for exactly that reason...he knows his uncle.

”So....what? Your plan is to...have us all executed?” Fili stammers, ashamed at the quaver in his voice.

”Not at all.” The king seems to become more composed as Fili becomes less so. “The plan at present is to keep you all imprisoned here until you die of old age.”

Its made all the more shocking by how casually the king says it, as though her were commenting on the weather. Fili feels his anger mounting but now it’s not directed at the elf in front of him.

”But...the rest of us weren’t even told what the terms were...you can’t just damn us all based on something Thorin said.”

”It was your leader’s responsibility to consider your welfare during negotiations, not mine. If he did not see fit to ask for your input in the decision making process, then your fate is due to his oversight.”

The king takes a casual sip from his goblet and Fili would be taking notes on the elf’s ‘appearing nonchalant’ technique were it not for the fact that he's fighting the urge to deck him at the moment.

”What do you want with me then?” Fili hisses out between clenched teeth. “Did you just feel like gloating?”

”Don’t be ridiculous, I do not ‘gloat’, I had you brought here because I thought it only fair to make you aware that there is something that can be done to secure the release of you and your party, thus enabling you to continue on your quest.”

”I can’t get you your diamonds back....”

”No, no, no.” The king shakes his head. “The heirlooms were a part of the negotiations between your uncle and I. You and I are having entirely separate negotiations which are to have entirely separate terms.”

Fili needs a moment to digest that, he’s not used to hearing official talk and even less used to having it directed at him and being expected to respond to it.

”So...what are the terms?”

”Well...” There’s a hint of triumph in the elf’s voice, as though he’s won some small victory just by getting Fili to ask. “As I’m sure you’re aware, the laws of my land are not forgiving of trespassers.”

“I noticed.”

”Indeed, and preservation of those laws is vital to the safety or my people. If we are to maintain the forest as a stronghold, we cannot gain a reputation for going lightly on those who violate its borders. Agreed?”

”I...I guess.”

”Clearly, so I’m sure you can understand why it would be irresponsible of me to allow you to continue on your way without extracting some form of payment for your transgressions.”

Fili nods grimly, a sense of foreboding beginning to build.

”And, as I doubt your uncle would be compliant in payment, the most logical place for me to extract that payment would be from you, his next of kin.”

”That makes sense...I guess, but I can’t pay...anything. What your guards took from me when we were captured is literally everything that I own.” He shrugs in exasperation.

”Not quite.” The elf takes a particularly long swallow of his wine as though solely to give Fili time to reflect on the implications of what he’s said before he continues. “As you are not a slave, you retain ownership of your physical person, do you not?”

”Well...apart from being imprisoned.”

”Correct.” The elf’s tone implies that that single word is the highest praise of which he is capable. “As per the law of the land, I currently retain control over the location of your physical person and the persons of your party. What you want is for me to relinquish that control.”

The elf pauses to finish off his wine and then turns to refill his goblet, not seeming at all hurried.

”Yes, that’s exactly what I want.” Fili says in hopes of prompting him to continue. The king either doesn’t get the hint or opts to ignore it. He turns back to Fili and examines him silently for a moment, looking him up and down before looking directly into his eyes.

”Finish your wine.” He says firmly, like an adult commanding a child. Fili downs the goblet in a single swallow, wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and then meets the kings gaze, refusing to look away. He expects to see indignation but instead he sees something else (another small victory)...he still refuses to look away.

”In short...” The king finally continues, plucking the goblet from Fili’s hand. “The remainder of your mortal life belongs to me, as king that is my entitlement. I am willing to relinquish it but only in exchange for an entitlement which I consider to be of equal or greater value.”

”Which would be?” Fili asks, the feeling of foreboding becoming nearly overwhelming.

”Are you familiar with the elvish custom of carnal rights?”

”No.” Fili says dryly, knowing full well it’s exactly the response the king expects.

”It’s a fairly straight forward arrangement, in exchange for my relinquishing my right to control the location of your physical person and that of your comrades, you sign a contract granting me access to your body to be used for my pleasure when and how I demand...within reason of course.”

”Within reason?” Fili rasps, suddenly wishing he had another glass of wine.

”Of course.” The king feigns indignation. “I’ll not harm you, I’ll not demand that you administer services to any other than myself and I’ll not hold you against your will for periods longer than those specified when I summon you. In exchange for your compliance during those times, you are granted the ability to go where you please at all other times...it’s all clearly outlined in the contract, if you’d like to see it?”

Fili can only nod dumbly in response, unable to believe that he’s actually hearing what he’s hearing. The elf goes to a desk beside the bed and produces a scroll from it’s top drawer, he rolls it out on the desk’s surface, places a paper weight at each end and motions Fili over. The desk is too tall, so Fili is forced to sit in order to see the contract. The king leans over him, uncomfortably close.

He notes with a hint of amusement that the contract is written in Khuzdul for his convenience. The king probably assumes he can’t read any other language. He scans it quickly, he knows he should read it carefully (Bawlin says you should never sign anything without reading it) but he can feel the elf’s breath on the side of his neck and that makes him inclined to hurry. He gets to a line that gives him something resembling hope.

”It says here that I get a one month grace period?”

”Yes, following consummation.” The elf points to the word ‘consummation’ on the contract. In the back of Fili’s mind he thinks about how strange it is that the elf king can apparently read Khuzdul.

”Consummation?”

”Naturally. You didn't think I’d allow you to leave here without making a down payment, did you?”

Fili’s stomach sinks at the elf’s business-like tone. Of course he knows exactly why the elf is doing this and he knows it has nothing to do with him. He couldn’t think of a better way to get under Thorin’s skin even if he had...well, an elf’s life span in which to do it. It’s actually pretty brilliant...brilliant and horrible.

”Don’t worry.” The king’s voice, now in a comforting tone, pulls him out of his musing. “I’ll not lay a hand on you until you've consented.”

”It’s not consent if I can’t say no.” Anger is bleeding into Fili’s voice now, he can’t help it.

”You can refuse...and if you do things will simply remain as they are.”

For a moment Fili is nearly overwhelmed by the urge to take the fancy quill pen off the desk and drive it into the smug elf’s jugular vein. He’s never killed anyone before but he knows he could do it, it’d be easy, it’s right there. Instead he thinks of Kili and swallows down his rage. It’s always easiest for him to control himself when he thinks of Kili.

”You can have as much time as you’d like to think it over.” The king says as he rises and walks over to pour himself another glass of wine. “I personally have all the time in the world.”

The dwarves do not have all the time in the world, in fact they have no time to waste and there’s no way the king doesn’t know that. Fili’s mind races, there’s always Bilbo. The little hobbit is still out there somewhere and Thorin seems confident in his ability to save them. Fili’s not so sure, he likes Bilbo well enough but these are elves, they’re notoriously difficult to get around. Anyway, it seems selfish to expect Bilbo to put himself at risk to save them when Fili could do it so easily.

Just one night, he tells himself. Just one night and they can be on their way and he’ll have an entire month in which to pretend all this never happened. This is the sort of thing a prince is supposed to do, isn’t it? Make sacrifices for the greater good? He supposes now’s as good a time to start as any and...it’s just skin. He’s let people do worse things to his skin in order to protect his little brother and he has the scars to prove it. So, this is nothing...just one more thing to be endured. He forces himself to sign his name slowly so that it’ll be nice and neat, like a prince’s signature. He’s only able to breathe again after he puts the pen down.

”Very good, you’ve just proven yourself to be far more reasonable than any of your forbearers.”

The satisfaction in the elf’s voice makes Fili want to tear up the contract so he stands and walks away from the desk. He stops a few yards away from the elf king, not wanting to get within arms reach just yet.

”Now what?” He asks through the tightness in his throat.

”Now...you come here.”

Chapter Text

Fili slowly makes his way back to where he’d been standing before, he wants to brace himself but doesn’t know what to brace himself for. To his surprise the king kneels in front of him, his gold robe pooling around him. If the two of them were anywhere near the same height, it would read as a gesture of deference but as is it just brings the kings eyes level with his. Having those eyes down at his level only makes them more intimidating and without even thinking he casts his gaze to the floor. The king reaches out and places a finger under his chin, gently tilting it back up.

”I just want to have a look at you.” The elf soothes. Fili is far from self conscious but he swears he can feel the elf’s eyes on him, probing like little fingers. The elf reaches up and pushes his coat of his shoulders and, though there’s a fire in the hearth, he’s terribly cold without it.

”Take this off.” The elf motions to his tunic. Fili reaches for the hem with shaking hands and slowly pulls the garment over his head. The elf king’s eye pan over his torso and then he reaches up and cards cold pale fingers through Fili’s chest hair as though intrigued. Fili keeps telling himself that he has nothing to be self conscious about (thanks to the intensive combat training uncle Thorin insisted he start as soon as he was able to walk, there’s not a scrap of fat on him), yet now more than his hands are shaking and his mouth is unbearably dry. When the elf’s hand brushes the waistband of his trousers, he instinctively reaches up to push it away. The elf king gently takes a hold of his wrist and puts his hand back down by his side, giving him a stern look. Until now he had though his ma was the best at stern looks...he probably shouldn’t be thinking about his ma right now.

”My, my, my, perhaps this won’t be as much of a chore as I anticipated.” The elf says, FINALLY returning his eyes to Fili’s face. “You’re nearly handsome.”

”Thanks.” Fili resists the urge to roll his eyes.

”You’d be even nearer to handsome with a little grooming.” The elf strokes Fili’s beard to indicate what he means and Fili tenses. “Relax...I did say that I wouldn’t damage you.”

The elf then reaches up slowly, as though about to pet a cornered animal, and begins to undo the braids in Fili’s hair. He removes each or Fili’s hair ornaments and places them carefully on the table and picks out twigs and bits of spider web as he goes. When he finds the lock pick, he gives Fili an accusatory look.

”It’s not like I used it.” Fili laughs nervously and then feels like an idiot. The king rises gracefully and takes a sip of his wine.

”I think that I’ll bathe you first.” He say matter-of-factly.

”I can wash myself.”

”I suppose I’ll take your word for that.” The elf gives him a look that makes him feel even shorter. “But mutual grooming is an important part of elvish courtship.”

”Is that what we’re doing? Courting?” The word feels unnatural in Fili’s mouth and seems to him far too pretty to describe his present situation situation.

”Not necessarily...but you’re also filthy.”

Fili has to concede that, he hasn’t been able to fit bathing in between all the almost getting eaten he’s been doing lately.

”Undress and get into the bathing pool.” The elf says and it’s not a question. He at least averts his eyes as Fili removes his trousers and small clothes, granting him the small mercy of not watching him undress. The water is almost too hot and the engineer in him wonders how they heat it...it has to be something under the floor. The pool is just deep enough for an elf to comfortably sit in it, which means that the water comes up to Fili’s collar bones while he’s still standing.

Fili stands staring down at the water for an uncomfortably long time, then he hears a rustling of silk behind him and gets even more uncomfortable. The king lowers himself into the water to Fili’s right and then puts a and on his shoulder to turn him towards him.

”How old are you?” The elf ask, running a hand through Fili’s hair.

”Eighty Two.” Fili does his best not to look down at the elf’s body but still can’t bring himself to look into his eyes.

”So very young.” There’s a hint of sadness in those words that Fili would swear was genuine if he didn’t know better. “You must be very fond of your uncle if you’re willing to risk so much for something you’ve never seen purely at his behest.

”It’s not like I don’t have anything to gain from it.” Fili internally kicks himself for taking such obvious bait.

”Ah, yes, you’ll be a prince and some day King Under the Mountain...provided you aren’t vaporized.”

”Yep.” Fili decides he’s had his fill of bait.

”Turn around.” The king says, seemingly unphased, and then elaborates. “So that I can wash your hair.”

Under the circumstances, the last thing Fili wants is to turn his back on the elf but he consoles himself with the fact that at least this way he won’t have to make eye contact. The elf king wets his hair and then begins to scrub it so expertly that Fili is tempted to ask just how many people he’s ‘mutually groomed’ in his very long life. He won’t ask though, he’ll be damned if he’s going to be forced to make conversation on top of everything else. The feeling of fingernails against his scalp would be pleasant if it weren’t for who they belong to.

”You know, it’s fitting that the next heir in the line of Durin should have a golden mane.” The elf remarks in a conversational tone. “If your great grandfather were still alive, he’d undoubtedly have taken your birth as a good omen...he always was given to the most ridiculous superstitions.”

It’s a petty but effective dig. It’ doesn’t help that Thorin had talked all through Fili’s childhood about the obvious significance of his hair color or that Fili has always been desperate to know more about his great grandfather (about whom Thorin had only ever been willing to speak in vague-yet-glowing terms.) Fili considers asking the elf about him even though he’s sure he’ll have nothing good to say. Maybe he can take the purely good things Thorin says and the purely bad things the elf would undoubtedly say and find some realistic medium between them...

”What has your uncle told you of him?” The elf says as though he had read Fili’s mind.

”Not much.”

”I’m not surprised...and I assume he focuses mostly on the early years of his reign.”

”If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not talk about my family during...this.”

”Fair enough.” Fili can hear the smirk in the elf’s voice. “Tell me about yourself then.”

”What about me?”

”Have you had many lovers?”

”Not many.” Fili says and it’s technically not a lie. He’s worked very hard to ensure that most people would be surprised to learn he’s never lain with anyone. Dwarvish women are rare to come by and most big women don’t fancy dwarves, Kili being a marked exception. The closest he’d gotten were those occasional nights out drinking with Bofur that would culminate in clumsy groping and sloppy kisses...they both pretend not to remember those when they’re sober. It’s not like it’ll matter in the long run anyway, part of an heir’s job is to make more heirs and Bofur’s not exactly equipped to help him with that.

By now the elf has rinsed the soap out of his hair and lathered a wash cloth with soap that smells of almond. Again, the firm, circular strokes of the cloth on his skin would be pleasant were it not for who that hand belonged to and the fact that it’s gradually working it’s way lower. Fili can’t stop himself from shuddering and flinching.

”I’m going to go easy on you tonight.” The elf whispers. “If you relax, you may even enjoy it.”

Fili almost laughs bitterly at that but it turns into a gasp when the cloth brushes his nether regions. He balks reflexively and, without thinking, reaches down and grabs the elf’s wrist.Without missing a beat the elf wraps an arm around Fili’s waist and pulls him back against his chest. Despite his prim appearance, there’s nothing delicate about the elf king, in fact there’s a frightening amount of latent strength in those long limbs.

”Now, now, don’t do anything foolish.” The elf says in an inappropriately tender tone. “Bear in mind that if you don’t hold up your end of the agreement I’m under no obligation to hold up mine.”

Every fiber of Fili’s being is telling him to fight, to kick and bite and pummel until the water in the pool is pink with the elf’s blood and by Mahal he wants to, he’s never wanted anything more in his life. He doesn’t though, instead he thinks of Kili sitting down in the dungeon where he’ll spend the rest of his life if Fili doesn’t behave and takes a deep breath and lets go of the elf’s wrist.

”Very good.” The elf coos in a way that makes Fili desperately wish he still had at least one of his knives. The elf king proceeds to give everything between his legs a very thorough cleaning by the end of which he’s biting his tongue so hard he can taste blood in order to keep a moan from escaping. He tells himself it doesn’t mean anything, the elf is just good at this is all. He supposes it’s not possible to do something for thousands of years without getting good at it.

The elf sucks hungrily on the side of his neck and the part of his brain that’s still functioning thinks about how there will be a mark there tomorrow and the others will see it and they’ll know...but he can’t let himself follow that train of thought or he’ll start struggling again. When the elf’s lips make their way to his he keeps his mouth shut tight. He’s not resisting, he tells himself, he may not be fully cooperating but he’s not resisting. He expects to be scolded but the king is content to lap at his closed lips for a few moments before turning his attention to the junction between Fili’s neck and shoulder. He bites down there hard enough to make Fili gasp and then quickly slipps two of the fingers on his left hand into Fili’s mouth. He runs them back and forth over Fili’s tongue while his other hand pumps Fili’s cock, squeezing harder and harder until it’s almost painful. Fili closes his eyes and tries to make his mind go blank and focus on the sensation instead of the context in which it’s occurring. He feels his climax building but just when he’s about to go over the edge everything stops.

When the elf releases his hold Fili tries to stand but his knees buckle and the next thing he knows he’s being picked up in the elf’s surprisingly strong arms. The elf stands up out of the water cradling Fili. Like most dwarves who’ve spent long stretches of time living among humans, Fili has a deeply ingrained aversion to being treated like a child, so of course he protests.

”Put me down.”

”As you wish.” The elf king says, dropping Fili onto the bed. Instead of instantly falling on Fili and ravishing him as Fili’s expecting, the elf king walks across the room to the vanity table and returns carrying a silver comb. Fili glances up at him just long enough to register that certain parts of his anatomy are proportionate with his height (that being intimidatingly large) before redirecting his attention to the intricately embroidered comforter beneath him. The elf settles on the bed behind him and begins slowly working the comb through his wet hair.

”That really necessary?” He pants, painfully hard and unable to catch his breath.

”It’ll get knotted.” The king replies matter-of-factly and, at a loss for a response, Fili can only sit quietly and try to compose himself while the king brushes out his hair and arranges it in a single braid. To his extreme discomfort this makes him think about his ma again (how she used to do this for him when he was little) and suddenly it feels more intimate and so like more of a violation than anything else the elf has done to him so far. He wishes the elf would just fuck him and get it over with, do it fast and rough so that it hurts. Pain he can handle, he’s a champ at handling pain, but he can’t handle...whatever this is, not for much longer any way.

Once his hair is in order the elf sets the comb down on the bedside table and sits back down in front of him. The elf examines him for another long moment and then speaks, finally, just as Fili’s about to break the silence himself.

”Kiss me.”

Steeling himself, Fili leans in to obey the command hoping the king will be satisfied with a simple press of lips on lips but somehow knowing he won't. He’s not surprised when his withdraw is stopped by a hand on the back of his head.

”You know that’s not what I meant.” The king murmurs against Fili’s lips, his tone still gentle, coaxing. Fili reluctantly leans back in and when his lips meet the elve’s again they open receptively but the elf doesn’t take control of the kiss the way Fili expects him to. It feels almost like a taunt, giving Fili control over this one little thing when everything else is completely out of his hands, except that the king keeps petting the back of his neck encouragingly. Fili reminds himself of everything he’s ever heard about the futility of trying to guess the intentions of elves and resolves not to think about it any more, in fact he thinks it’d be best if he not think at all for the rest of the night.

The inside of the elf’s mouth is surprisingly sweet, a mix of the wine from earlier and something else, and his lips are soft. Fili’s arm reflexively goes up to wrap around the elf’s neck but he stops himself, not wanting to touch the elf any more than necessary. Mahal forbid he create the illusion that he wants to be doing this. Despite how his body is responding he DOES NOT want this. The elf thwarts Fili’s attempts to avoid touching him be wrapping an arm round him and pulling him close, making Fili straddle his lap. When their cocks brush against each other a little keening noise bubbles up out of Fili’s throat completely of it’s own accord.

The king seems to take that as encouragement because his hands start to roam Fili’s body again. Massaging his back, carding fingers through patches of hair (the complete absence of which Fili can’t help but notice on the elf’s own body), working their way lower until Fili feels a slight pressure against his entrance. At the prospect of being breached by dry fingers, he panics, separates his mouth from the elf’s and starts pushing against his chest. To his surprise, the elf releases him without protest and he scrambles backward until he’s at the end of the bed opposite the king. It immediately dawns on him that he’s made a mistake.

”I’m sorry...I just...”

”Lie down.” The king interrupts him, motioning to the spot on the bed beside him. To Fili’s relief he doesn’t sound angry. Fili crawls back up the bed and lays down on his back and keeps his eyes closed as he hears the elf searching for something on the bedside table. He opens them again when he feels a hand on the side of his face and is met with the kings eyes looking directly into his.

”You haven’t done this before, have you?” Fili sees little point in answering as the way the elf asks the question implies that he already knows. Fili had really hoped it wouldn’t be that obvious. Without another word the elf pours some amber colored oil from the bottle he’d gotten from the bedside table and distributes it over his hands. Fil spreads his legs without being asked and keeps his eyes trained on the canopy above him.

His erection has started to flag so the elf wraps his right hand around it pumps steadily, applying just enough friction and just enough pressure until Fili is panting and squirming. Fili finds himself thanking Mahal that elves have such slender fingers when the first one slides into him. The elf opens him what can only be described as “efficiently” as though he’s done this a thousand times...and he probably has. When he’s stretched enough that three of the elf’s fingers can fit inside him, the elf withdraws both of his hands, leaving Fili feeling cold and empty. The feeling doesn’t last long, however, as the elf climbs on top of him.

Through the haze of lust that part of his brain is still telling him that he should NOT allow what is about to happen. When the elf kisses him, deep and slow and hungry, Fili has to fight the urge to bite his tongue in half. Instead he forces himself to reach up and run his hands through the elf’s hair. He finds those silvery white strands to be incredibly soft, softer than anything he’s ever touched. He focuses on the sensation to distract himself from the thought that at this very moment his great grandfather is undoubtedly spinning in his grave.

When the elf thrusts into him the urge to struggle flares back up again. The king feels even bigger than he looks inside him and Fili’s whole body goes rigid against the intrusion.

”Relax.” The elf purrs against his ear, voice just slightly hoarse with arousal. “The more you relax the better it will feel.”

The elf covers the side of Fili’s neck in light, little kisses intended to soothe and then just sits motionless, his face buried in the side of Fili’s neck, until Fili finally starts to relax. When the thrusting starts at first it burns, Fili thought he could take pain but this is a whole new realm of pain he’s never even imagined. He’s proud of himself for not making a sound, he grits his teeth and balls his hands into fists. When the pain starts to slowly meld into pleasure Fili finds himself aggressively kissing the elf just to keep from moaning.

He cums embarrassingly quickly but the elf keeps going, drawing out the sensation until Fili is moaning into his mouth. By the time the elf reaches his own climax Fili is limp and wrung out beneath him and so soaked with sweat that the bath he had earlier barely matters. The elf king pulls out of him slowly and lays next to him breathing heavily for a few minutes before rising from the bed. He returns once again clothed in his gold robe (looking far too composed for someone who’s just done what he’s just done) and holding a wet wash cloth. Fili’s too exhausted to protest as the king cleans him for the second time that night.

The elf being clothed makes Fili all the more aware of his own nakedness so when he goes to return the washcloth to the bathing pool Fili climbs under the covers. He rolls over onto his side and pretends to be asleep when the king returns. The king settles onto the bed beside him, not getting under the blanket. He doesn’t want to sleep, not here, but he’s more exhausted then he can remember having ever been and given recent events that’s really saying something. Despite his best efforts he eventually drifts into a deep, dreamless sleep.

When he awakes his first instinct is to reach for the knife he usually keeps on his belt...then he realizes he’s naked and remembers where he is. He lays there a few moments just listening until he verifies that he’s alone in the room. He sits up slowly, he’s still sore from the night before, and looks around. The first thing he notices is that his clothes are neatly folded on one of the bedside tables. They appear to have been cleaned and he wonders when exactly that happened.

He rises and dresses quickly, daring to hope that he’ll be allowed to leave without seeing the elf king again. Once he’s clothed he goes over to the full length mirror to see what the damage is. There are a lot of marks on his neck and a bite mark on his shoulder deep enough that he makes a mental note to ask Oin if elves carry any diseases. He removes the single braid from his hair and sets about putting it back into it’s usual style. While he’s trying to come through it with his fingers he hears the door behind him open and freezes. The elf king enters and comes to stand behind him, watches him struggle for a while before speaking.

”Allow me.” He kneels down behind Fili and produces the same comb from the night before. Fili knows there’d be no point in objecting so he doesn’t, he just lowers his hands and lets the elf get to work. The king proceeds to put the same braids in his hair that he remembers seeing on some of the elvish soldiers and again he doesn’t protest.

”We get to leave now, right?” He asks, his voice sounding strained and rusty to his own ears.

”As per our agreement.” The elf nods. “Your party will depart at midday, you’ll be accompanied to the edge of the forest by my captain of the guard...to ensure you don't stray from the path again.”

”Appreciate it.” Fili says bitterly. “I suppose you told them why your letting us go.”

”The leader of your party has been informed of the conditions of your release.”

”Of course he has.”

The trudge through the forest is mostly silent save whispered wonderings about why Thorin is in such a fowl mood despite the fact that the elves have let them go. When the group was first reunited, Kili had ran up to Fili and hugged him...and then made a confused comment about how he smelled “like flowers.” Fili had just shrugged and thanked Mahal that his brother was not of a particularly inquisitive nature. As they walk he notices that Kili and the she-elf (Tauriel) who’s leading them out of the forest keep exchanging glances when they think no one’s looking. He makes a note to ask Kili about it the next time he manages to get him alone.

They do eventually run into Bilbo, looking considerably more dirty and exhausted than when they last saw him but otherwise none the worse for wear. Thorin assures Tauriel that he is part of their group and, though she has a lot of questions about where exactly he was when the rest of them were imprisoned and how he’s managed to be wandering around the forest all this time without getting caught or eaten, she eventually accepts it. After that they make it to the other side of Mirkwood relatively without incident. Fili can’t help but notice that Thorin has not looked at him since they left the Elven dungeons. Thorin does his best to avoid looking at him for the remainder of the voyage.

Chapter Text

It winds up being much longer than one month before Thranduil summons Fili. Three months longer in fact, not that Fili’s actually aware of the passage of time during most of it. The battle itself is a blank in his mind...no, not a blank, an angry, red smear. Oin tells him that’s on account of the ‘blunt head trauma’ and that he may never get any of that back. Fili’s not sure he wants it back, Kili and Thorin survived, that’s all he needs to know.

Kili got away with barely a scratch thanks to that she-elf (Tauriel...he supposes she’s earned being called by her name.) Thorin defeated Azog and for his trouble he’s in almost as bad of shape as Fili is. Luckily dwarvish bones are hard to break, even for an Orc, so they both have mostly what Oin calls ‘soft tissue damage’. Stuff that just needs time to heal. Fili’s worst wound is on his left side, it’s big and deep enough that his ribs can be seen through it. He only sees it himself once when Oin is changing his bandages.

He’d have gotten back on his feet sooner, was itching to in fact, if it weren’t for that infection. He’d been close to healed and then he’d woken up one morning feeling unbearably hot all over and the pain in his side had been as bad as it was when the wound was fresh. After that he spends his days drifting in and out of consciousness, being fed tinctures and mixtures of herbs and having foul smelling liquid drained from his wound three times a day. Eventually his ma makes it to the Lonely Mountain. From then on she does all of the hands on care taking with Oin supervising her. They have to bring a bedroll into Fili’s room for her to keep her from sleeping on the floor.

Fili gets as many visitors when he’s healing as his ma will allow. Kili’s there as often as they’ll let him be, talking endlessly about how well things are going with rebuilding the mountain fortress and the city and more dwarves are arriving there every day (more dwarves than he’s ever seen in one place) and he can’t wait for Fili to get better so that he can see it all. Kili always gets aggressively optimistic when he’s worried. Bawlin visits him once a day and reads aloud to him in lieu of his usual lessons. Sometimes Dwalin is with him but he usually just stands in the corner and doesn’t say much. He has a vague memory of Bofur making small talk for a few minutes and then coming up with an excuse to leave, the whole while looking extremely uncomfortable. Fili wonders if he really looks THAT bad.

He wakes up in the middle of the night once to find Thorin sitting in a chair near the bed.

“Go back to sleep.” He says so softly that Fili isn’t entirely sure he even heard it at first.

“Where’s ma?” Fili asks, glancing down at where she should be. The inside of his mouth feels like leather.

“I convinced her that she should go sleep in an actual bed for one night, told her I’d sit with you.”

“Oh...”

“Do you feel feverish?”

“Actually...no.”

“Good...go back to sleep.”

Fili lays back down for a few minutes but can’t close his eyes.

“Uncle Thorin?”

“What?”

“Are you still mad at me...for...” With his uncle’s piercing eyes on him, he finds himself physically unable to say the words.

Thorin closes his eyes and breathes slow and deep in and out through his nose the way he always does when he’s making a concentrated effort to not get angry.

“I was never angry with you. You were just...willing to do what you thought was necessary...that’s a...good thing. It’s not your fault that that...elf used it against you.”

Fili is at a loss for words, he’s not used to his uncle being so understanding. Suddenly a horrible thought occurs to him.

“He hasn’t sent for me, has he?”

“No.” Thorin shakes his head. “He’s probably heard you’ve been injured.”

“Do you think...”

“Go to sleep.” Thorin cuts Fili off. “We can talk about your predicament once you’re well but for now you need to rest.”

There’s so, so much Fili wants to say just then but open expressions of emotion have never been among the strong suits of the men of Durin’s Line so instead he lies back down. He doesn’t sleep easily and when he wakes Thorin is gone. Based on what light he can see through the ventilation shaft in his room, it’s about midday. It’s the first time he’s been fully conscious in this room (HIS room, he supposes) and he takes a moment to just look it over. It’s big, bigger even than the elf king’s room and enormous compared to the tiny room he’d shared with Kili back home (not ‘home’, he tells himself, THIS is home.)

The bed he’s on is large enough for the entire company to sleep in it comfortably and is carved directly into the stone, it’s posts are stone pillars that stretch all the way up to the ceiling. He notes that there a deep grooves in them, most likely where gems used to be inlaid. It’s the only piece of furniture in the room save his ma’s bedroll and the chair in which Thorin had been sitting the night before. The lack of furniture makes the size of the room all the more overwhelming. Fili supposes he’ll have to get used to it, he’s a prince now and he lives here...beneath the Lonely Mountain. Just then it hits him for the first time that he’s really HERE, in the halls of his ancestors, literally the only place he’s ever dreamed of. It’s too much and he finds himself laughing purely for lack of any other way to express the mixture of wonder, pride and relief blossoming in his chest.

“What’s so funny?” He hears from across the room and looks over to see his ma standing there with a tray.

“Ma...” He can’t stop himself from smiling. “You look nice.”

She rolls her eyes but then smiles. She sets the tray on the end of the bed and then walks over and feels his forehead. Relief washes over her features.

“You feel fine but you’re not getting out of bed until Oin has a look at you.”

Fili nods and then leads in and kisses her on the cheek, she wraps her arms around his neck and squeezes so hard it hurts a little but Fili doesn’t mind.

“You’re brother’s been a basket case.” She whispers.

“How’ve you been?”

“You ever scare me like that again and I’ll kill you.” She pulls back with a breathless laugh. “And don’t think I haven’t already let your uncle hear it.”

“It wasn’t his...”

“Don’t argue with me, he’s just lucky I didn’t lose you.” He notices then that her eyes are brimming with tears and all thoughts of dissent disappear from his mind. He kisses her on the forehead and then again on the cheek and then holds her to his chest. She smells warm and sweet and perfectly familiar...yes, this is home.

“You need to eat.” She pushes away from him and wipes her eyes. The women of Durin’s line aren’t any better with open displays of emotion than the men. She sets the tray across his lap and then retreats to the chair by the bed. Fili picks at the porridge but finds himself without an appetite, it’s a side effects of the poppy flower tea Oin’s been giving him for the pain, practically the only liquid he’s had during the time he’s been bed ridden. His head still feels foggy and his limbs are heavy.

“Did it actually seem like you were going to...lose me?”

“For a while but Oin said if you made it through the fever you’d be fine.”

Fili doesn’t press, he knows Dis doesn’t like to revisit bad things once they’re over. It’s the reason he’s never heard her account of the fall of Erebor. She’s always telling Thorin how he shouldn’t ‘dwell on things.’ That’s the way it had been all through his childhood, his uncle bogged down in the past and his mother anxious about the future. Fili had always gone to Thorin for stories and his mother for advice.

“Where’s Kili now?”

“In the dining hall, once you’ve EATEN, we’ll see about taking you down to him.”

Fili takes the hint and forced down the rest of his food despite his lack of enthusiasm. It turns out to not be necessary to bring Fili to Kili since when Oin shows up Kili is trailing close behind him. When Kili hugs him it causes a little, shooting pain in his side which he steadfastly ignores.

“This is the most awake I’ve seen you months.” Kili says with a relieved smile.

“Get out of the way so I can have a look at him.” Oin drags Kili off of the bed and sits in his place. He feels Fili’s forehead and checks the whites of his eyes for discoloration then has him lie on his back so he can examine the wound. When he probes at it gently that little pain flares back up again but Fili doesn’t even flinch.

“Is it tender?” Oin asks.

“No.” Fili lies, not wanting to give Oin any excuse to keep him bed ridden longer. Oin gives him a skeptical look.

“If it doesn’t hurt now it will when you start to move around.” The healer looks at him thoughtfully for a moment. “You can get out of bed for a while if you like but you’re to take it SLOW and not exert yourself. Thorin’s instructed Mr. Dwalin not to do any training exercises with you until I give the ok and as is that probably won't be for some time. I’m not gonna’ have you undoing all my work.”

“Fair enough.” Fili nods eagerly. The other three leave the room to allow Fili to get dressed, which winds up taking longer than it should as he tries to avoid touching his wound. Dis and Kili spend the remainder of the day showing Fili around the Lonely Mountain. He’s always imagined it as a castle but it is, in fact, an entire underground city large enough to house thousands.

Thorin’s detailed descriptions of it had not done it justice and even with large portions of it still in states of ruin and neglect it’s far and away the grandest place Fili has ever seen. his mother explains that most of the time he’s been laid up has been devoted to getting the functional bits working again and to finding the bodies of the dead and giving them proper burials. Kili remarks grimly that they’re still finding bodies in the deeper parts of the mines, most of them women and little ones. Dis, having a low tolerance for sad talk, changes the subject and the remainder of the conversation is about all the plans for restoration and renovation Thorin has already made. If all goes according to plan the Lonely Mountain will be back to it’s full glory in only two years.

By evening Fili has only seen a small portion of it but Dis reminds him that he’ll have the remainder of his life to see the rest. The only thing keeping Fili from being completely happy is that the whole time, in the back of his mind, he’s wondering if Thorin has told his ma about the deal he struck with the elf king. He doesn’t think he could live with the shame of her knowing that he’d agreed to spend the rest of his life playing bed warmer to one of their family’s oldest enemies. Kili notices his anxiety and at one point asks him in a whisper if his wound is acting up. Since Kili (hopefully) knows nothing about the situation, Fili simply forces a smile and says he’s fine. Kili always knows when Fili is lying but this time he mercifully doesn’t press, which is unusually tactful for him.

Later on Fili takes dinner in his room and Kili asks if he can join him. Fili’s not entirely sure he’s up to talking about what he knows Kili will want to talk about but he supposes Kili’s probably been waiting the whole time he’s been laid up and doesn’t have anyone else he can talk to about it, so he says yes. While they’re settled on Fili’s bed eating from trays Kili goes on about how much he’s missed Fili. Fili knows he means it but he can tell it’s a lead in to something else. He waits patiently for Kili to get where he’s going, there’s never any point in rushing him when it comes to these sorts of things. The conversation reaches a natural pause and Kili let’s it stretch on a few seconds before finally cutting to the quick.

“I’ve been sneaking out to see Tauriel.” He murmurs, keeping his eyes on his food.

“Is that so?” Fili doesn’t sound surprised because he isn’t, he knows his brother.

“Yeah.” Kili seems relieved not to have gotten a negative response. “We arranged a meeting place between here and Mirkwood, I lie and say I’m going out hunting and then we meet up there and...talk...sometimes we do other things.”

Kili blushes and Fili instantly knows what he means.

“Didn’t think elves even did that.” Fili says and then bitterly remembered that he knows for a fact they do.

“Course they do.” Fili laughs. “I mean...all we’ve done so far is kiss but...of course they do.”

Fili just shrugs.

“So is that how you two plan on carrying on then? In secret for the rest of your life?”

“No...I mean...ma already knows about the elf who saved my life during the battle and she said she’d like to meet her, I figure some time soon I’ll get the two of them together and then me and Tauriel can tell her.”

“Soon?”

“We haven’t settled on exactly when yet, we want to have everything that’s gonna’ happen after that planned out before we let anyone know.”

“It’s not like there’s any rush.”

“There kind of is...I guess the elf king wasn’t too happy about her going off without his permission just before the battle so he demoted her...she’s not captain of the guard anymore and I guess getting demoted is kind of a big deal with the the elves so she doesn’t have a lot of friends left in Mirkwood. She says the prince would be on her side but he took off to the North after the battle...I’m not entirely clear on the reason, so she’s kind of all alone there. I feel sorry for her.”

“And you think uncle Thorin will let her come live here?”

“If she’s my wife, he’ll have to.”

“Wait...now you’re getting married?” Fili tries not to sound shocked.

“Of course we are...I love her Fili. We just need ma’s blessing first.”

“I know you love her but I just... I think you should give this some time and some thought before you go making any big commitments.”

“”We’ve HAD time.”

“Yeah, four months, and how many times have you even seen each other in those four months?”

“We’ve only been able to manage it about every three weeks but I KNOW I love her and she KNOWS she loves me. Before I even tell mom I need to know that you’re ok with the whole thing...I can deal with pretty much everyone else disapproving but I NEED you on my side Fee.”

The look on Kili’s face is nothing short of heart breaking.

“You know I don’t have a problem with her, Kee, anyone who saves my brother’s life is more than alright in my book...”

“But?” Kili looks at him expectantly.

“But I want you to be happy I don’t think you will be if you rush into a thing like this without being sure.”

“But I AM sure! I don’t know how to explain but I’ve never felt this way before and I just know that I can’t be happy without her. It feels like we’re SUPPOSED to be together. Fili please...”

“Alright.” Fili cuts him off. “If you can’t be happy without her then of course I want you to be with her and I’ll do what I can to help you but I don’t know how much that’ll actually be.”

“Thank you.” Kili beams and then lunges forward and hugs Fili so hard he can barely breath. “Thank you, thank you, thank you SO much! You have no idea how much better that makes me feel.”

“I really do want you to think this through though.”

“I will.” Kili uncoils himself from his brother and goes back to his place on the other side of the bed. “And, ya’ know, I think once you get to know Tauriel better you’re really going to like her.”

“I’m sure.” Fili can’t stop himself from smiling, Kili’s smile has always had that effect on him. Just then they’re both startled by a knock on the door.

“Come in.” Fili says tentatively. He’s not at all surprised that Thorin is on the other side of the door but he is a little surprised that Balin is behind him.

“I need to talk to your brother in private.” He shoots Kili a look that leaves no room for objection and Kili just nods and then rushes out of the room. Once the three of them are alone, Thorin notices Fili warily looking at Balin and explains. “I had to tell Balin about your situation so that I could seek his counsel regarding it.”

“What?” Fili gapes, suddenly and acutely wishing he were dead.

“It’s alright lad.” Balin places a comforting hand on his forearm. “None of this is your fault.”

“I wouldn’t say ‘none’ of it.” Thorin grumbles under his breath and Balin shoots him a disapproving look.

“Ma doesn’t know, does she?”

“Of course not.” Thoin seems almost angry that Fili would even ask. “And there’s no reason she ever needs to.”

“Agreed.” That one words seems to calm Thorin significantly.

“Now, first off...” Balin begins in his usual tone of unfaltering patience. “You should have had me read the contract before you even thought about signing it. I’m not just your uncle’s adviser, I’m the adviser to the entire royal family and that includes you. So, in the future, you don’t sign anything unless I see it first. Understood?”

Fili can only nod in response, he knew that, he swears he knew that even when he was signing the contract but for some reason it just didn’t occur to him at the time.

“As soon as your uncle told me I sent a messenger to Mirkwood to request a copy of the contract and the elf king was...courteous enough to provide one.”

“Courteous.” Thorin growls the word under his breath as though it were a curse and Bawlin cringes just a little.

“Unfortunately,” He goes on. “I wasn’t able to find any loopholes in it...the elves know their way around a contract.”

“Where does that leave me?” Fili asks, dreading the answer mostly because he suspects he already knows it.

“Well, lad, there’s really only two courses of action open to you.” Balin takes a deep breath. “You can either honor the agreement or go back on it.”

“If you go back on it no one will blame you.” Thorin chooses then to break into the conversation. “No matter what the consequences I’ll support your decision.”

“Since Fili’s honoring the agreement was the sole term of our release, if he doesn’t the elf king will want us back in his dungeon.” Balin explains, turning his attention fully to Thorin. “I shudder to think what lengths he’d go to to achieve that end.”

At that even Thorin seems discouraged though only for a second.

“Either way, should it come to violence, we have the forces of the Iron Hill’s on our side.”

“The last thing we need is more fighting.” Balin doesn’t meet Thorin’s eyes when he says that and his whole frame becomes slightly tense. “We’re no where near on a sure footing yet and starting a feud with a powerful neighbor this early on won’t do anything to improve matters.”

Thorin is glaring at Balin now and so Fili rushes to his rescue.

“Besides, if he summons me and I refuse and some sort of large scale conflict starts over it, then everyone will wind up knowing that I made the deal in the first place...I don’t think I could live with everyone knowing that I...” Fili can’t bring himself to continue and can feel his face growing hot under the gaze of the other two.

“He didn't hurt you did he boy?” Balin asks softly, tender concern washing over his features.

“No.”

“He did more than hurt him!” Thorin raises his voice and Fili’s whole body tenses. “He violated him and he shamed our family!”

“Good thing I didn’t know all of Durin’s Line was there in the room when it happened or else it’d have been even more uncomfortable.” Fili means it as a joke but there’s no humor in his voice and he can’t bring himself to look up from his own hands.

There’s a long silence and then Thorin speaks in the clipped tone of someone for whom apologies do not come naturally.

“I’m sorry...I wasn’t...thinking.”

“Maybe...” Balin goes on gently. “Doing...it just that once and having you know he did it was enough for him...I mean, he hasn’t called on the boy in four months.”

“Right.” Fili agrees hopefully. “Besides, it didn’t even seem like dwarves are really his type any way, you know better than anyone what he thinks of us. He might not even want...me again.”

“That’s possible.” Thorin looks contemplative.

“Right.” Balin nods. “So we’ll just wait and see if we hear from him and then...Fili can decide how we proceed from there.”

There’s an even longer silence until Fili finally looks up to see Thorin studying him intensely.

“You should sleep now.” Thorin finally says. “You don’t look well.”

“I am tired.” Fili concedes.

The other two dwarves leave the room and Fili hesitantly lies down. Despite the worry buzzing in his brain his recently healed flesh is weary and it doesn't’ take long for him to drift off. He may or may not have dreamt of long, pale fingers and azurite eyes....

Things are quiet for three blissful weeks after that...and then early one morning a messenger from Mirkwood shows up at the lonely mountain. He has a parcel tucked under his arm and insists that he’ll only speak to Prince Fili.

Chapter Text

Fili instantly recognizes the messenger as the black haired elf who took his knives from him when they were captured in Mirkwood. He thinks that that can’t possibly be a coincidence and wonders exactly what message King Thranduil meant to send with that decision. They go off into an alcove off the throne room and Fili asks that Balin be present, he doesn’t want to spend any more time alone in the company of elves than absolutely necessary. The messenger wastes no time of pleasantries.

“My Lord Thranduil wishes to invoke his Carnal Rights, he’s specified that you will be given twenty four hours to depart for Mirkwood and that I am to accompany there to ensure you arrive in a timely manner and that you will remain in Mirkwood for two days.”

“Of course he does.” Fili sighs.

“The King Under the Mountain has stipulated that I am to accompany the Prince.” Balin speaks with far more authority than Fili can muster.

“Since the contract contains no mention of rather or not he is to be accompanied, I suppose I’m in no position to deny you but I can’t imagine why you think the boy would require an advisor in the fulfillment of his obligations.”

“But I’m sure you can imagine why we would not want the PRINCE going into hostile territory unaccompanied.”

The black haired elf looks more amused than anything but offers no objection. It’s agreed that he will wait in the entryway while Fili goes to prepare, it doesn’t take much to convince him to wait there as he seem extremely hesitant to go any further into the mountain. Fili half considers taking the entire offered twenty four hours and just leaving him out there the whole time but he decides he’s not that vindictive. He and Balin part outside of his bedroom, Balin promising to think of a plausible excuse for his departure before they set out. Once alone in his room, Fili opens the package that the black haired elf handed to him before they parted company.

Inside the parcel he finds a white silk tunic that he assumes he’s meant to wear. He’s not surprised to find it slightly too long, he’s used to things being slightly too long so this doesn’t bother him. At least it doesn’t bother him nearly as much as the fact that the elf king is apparently now picking out his clothing for him. As he’s pacing his things, Thorin comes quietly into the room. He doesn’t need to announce himself, he never does, but Fili waits for him to speak before he acknowledges his presence.

“So you’re going then?” There’s a noticeable tension in Thorin’s voice.

“It’s like Balin said...” Fili fastened the buckle on his bag before turning around. “The last thing we need is more fighting.”

Thorin walks over to him and lightly touches the fabric of his sleeve before cringing with disgust.

“It’s your decision,” His voice is rough and jagged. “but if he harms you at all or ever treats you disrespectfully, you’re to tell me, understood?”

“Understood.” Fili doesn’t quite mean it, he knows it’s for the best if he tells his uncle as little as possible about what happens when he’s...attending to his obligations.

“I’ve told Dis and Kili that I’m sending you on a diplomatic venture to Lake Town. You, Balin and your escort are to take the main roads to Lake Town and then from there the back roads to Mirkwood.”

Fili wants to ask why Baulin needs to come with. He’s not keen on going to do...what he’s going to do accompanied by an old man who’s known him since he was a baby. He also wonders what exactly Thorin expects Balin to do should things go wrong. He doesn’t voice any of his objection though, he learned long ago that when Thorin has made up his mind that something is happening, it’s happening. Besides, he’s even less keen on going from here to Mirkwood alone with the black haired elf.

“And take that off.” Thoin motions to the white tunic. “I don’t want anyone to see you wearing it.”

Fili removes the silk tunic, folds it neatly and puts it in his bag. He replaces it with the linen one he’d been wearing before. As he’s about to leave the room Thorin stops him with a firm hand on his forearm.

“Wait, I have a...gift.” Thorin reaches into his pocket and takes out a little cloth bag. He hands it to Fili and he opens it to find a set of hair ornaments like the ones he’s wearing except crafted from gold.

“If you must go, I’d prefer that you go looking like a Prince.” Thorin explains.

“Thank you.” Fili says, not entirely sure what he’s feeling is gratitude.

“Finish getting ready and then leave through the western side exit. I’ll have Balin and the elf waiting there for you.”

Fili and Thorin exchange a nod before Thorin leaves. After Thorin leaves Fili goes to his mirror and sets about methodically replacing his hair ornaments with the new ones. When he studies his reflection he catches himself thinking that he liked the iron ones better but he pushes the thought aside. Gold really is more befitting of royalty. Fili’s relieved that he doesn’t run into Kili or his ma on his way out, Thorin’s undoubtedly keeping them distracted somehow.

When he gets to the exit Thorin told him to use he finds Balin and the black haired elf waiting for him. Baulin greets him with a somewhat strained smile while the elf looks at him as though he were a mildly interesting insect. They make it to Lake Town without incident, apart from Baulin’s failed attempts to make casual conversation with the black haired elf. It’s Balin’s natural inclination to smooth ruffled feathers and find common ground but the elf is having none of it. Fili finds himself wondering how his brother could have fallen in love with one of such a cold, aloof people.

They get some looks in Lake Town (or maybe Fili’s just imagining those) but by now the people there are used to having dwarves and elves coming and going so they’re not stopped and their presence is not questioned. Fili gets uncomfortable when a little girls eyes linger on him too long. Nothing to see here honey, he thinks, just your typical concubine off to spend another night in his master’s bed. He’s relieved when they get onto the back roads where there are significantly fewer prying eyes. Of course then there’s the awkward silence, he decides to try his hand at talking to their escort.

“I don’t suppose you know what became of my weapons?”

“I do not.” The elf doesn’t even look down at him.

“Would your king know.”

The elf looks down at him with inexplicable disgust in his eyes.

“I cannot imagine why King Thranduil would stoop to attend to such trivial matters when he has many far larger ones that demand his attention but I supposed you could ask him.”

“Maybe I will.” Fili deliberately sounds as casual as possible.

When they arrive at the palace in Mirkwood Balin is told that visitors are not allowed into the part of the palace where Fili is to go but that he will be given his own accommodations. He’s hesitant at first but Fili assures him he’ll be fine and they part ways. Fili is surprised not to be lead to the elf king’s room. Instead he’s brought to what appears to be a bathing chamber.

“The King is attending to some official business.” The black haired elf says. “In the meanwhile you are to wait here a groom yourself.”

“Oh, he trusts me to do it myself this time?” The black haired elf briskly turns to leave, pointedly ignoring the slight. Fili doesn’t necessarily need a bath, he just had one yesterday, but how else is he going to pass the time? So he bathes hastily, he’s never gotten into bathing as a luxury, that’s always seemed like too much of an elf thing. Plus, sharing a bathroom with his mother and brother (and whoever else happened to be visiting at the time) hasn’t given him the chance to develop a taste for leisurely bathing rituals.

When he gets out of the bath he notices that there are a number of little bottles on a shelf lining an entire wall of the room. At a loss as to what he’s supposed to do with any of them, he just dries off and gets dressed. The silk of the white tunic feels foreign against his skin, almost too light. He finds himself longing for the comfortable weight of linen and wool and leather. He’s often relied on the added bulk of clothing to hide how small he is but elvish clothing seems designed to do the opposite. He supposes that when you’re freakishly tall you don’t need added bulk.

He doesn't know what else to do so he paces and tries not to think too much for what feels like hours (in reality it’s only about twenty minutes) until he hears a knock on the door. Instead of calling to whoever’s on the other side and telling them to enter, he goes and answers the door. Tauriel is on the other side.

“My king has sent me to fetch you.” She says and immediately Fili’s mind starts racing. Why would he send her? Is this supposed to mean something or is it just a coincidence? What exactly is her job now if she’s no longer captain of the guard? Should he tip her off to the fact that he knows about her and Kili? Has Kili told her that he knows?

“Alright.” Is the only word that makes it out of his mouth despite the fact that his mind is humming like a hornets nest. They walk in silence a moment before Tauriel breaks it.

“I’m glad to see that you’re well...I had heard you’d been injured in the battle.”

“Yeah, well he probably made it sound worse that it was.” Fili says and then catches himself. “Whoever it is you heard it from, I mean...you know how things get exaggerated in the rumor mill.”

He’s been thinking this whole time that she looks somehow softer than she had when last he saw her and all the sudden he realizes that it’s because the clothes she’s wearing are distinctly not those of a soldier. Now she looks more like a handmaiden than anything.

“And how are you?” He asks, deciding it’s just a vague enough question.

“As well as can be expected.” It seems they both prefer to be vague.

“Good, because I heard that you got in a little trouble after the battle.”

There’s a long tense silence during which he begins to worry that he hit a nerve, that was genuinely not his intention, but then she speaks again.

“My King was charitable enough not to banish me, in my position that’s the most I could have hoped for.”

They reach those familiar engraved double doors and Fili feels his stomach sink, he’s been doing his best not to think about what’s to come but now it’s inevitable. Tauriel knocks on the door and it’s answered by another elf that Fili doesn’t recognize. The elf motions them Fili into the room and he’s a little disappointed when Tauriel doesn’t follow him but only nods to the other elf and then walks off down the hall. It was nice having at least one person around who wasn’t openly hostile to him. There are three other elves in the room as well, one is sitting at the desk writing while Thranduil dictates to him in Elvish, the other two are bustling around Thranduil, adjusting his hair and clothing.

The only explanation Fili can think of for why he’d have been brought here now is that the king wants others to see him being brought to his room. He grits his teeth and tries not to let the irritation show on his face. Thranduil continues dictating while one of the elves removes his crown and very, very carefully combs his hair, avoiding touching the king’s skin as he does so. The other removes his garment, a long silver cloak, and puts it on a dressing dummy. She then goes to the wardrobe and takes out two robes, a red one and the all too familiar gold one. She holds them up and Thranduil points to the red one without breaking his dictation. She goes back over and puts it one him, also being very careful to not directly touch his skin. Through all of this the elf who let Fili in has been standing vigilantly beside him, as though expecting him to make a run for it...where would he even go?

When they’re finished the two attendants bow, the which the king responds with a nod, and then leave. By now the elf at the desk has stood and is waiting patiently beside it. Thranduil goes over to the desk and studies the paper on it before picking up the quill pen and writing his signature at the bottom. He then hands the paper to the other elf, who bows and then leaves. The elf beside Fili follows him. Fili feels the weight of their absence more than he thought he would.

Thranduil doesn’t acknowledge Fili’s presence until he has a glass of wine in his hand as has downed a few mouthfuls. He doesn’t look as composed as Fili remembers him (though he’d swear he’s gotten taller) there are just the tiniest little cracks in his aloof exterior. His jaw is tense, his eyes are just a little watery. He looks tired, Fili didn’t think elves got tired. Suddenly he notices that the elf king is studying him as closely as he’s been studying the elf king and their eyes meet for just a second and Fili’s hands start to shake just a little. He curses himself internally.

“I hear you took some damage in the battle.” The king says airily.

“I hear your boy ran off after the battle.” This time Fili does mean to hit a nerve. The elf’s brow just barely furrows but it’s enough.

“At our last meeting you requested that I not speak of your family,” The elf says with a hint of warning in his voice. “you will do me the same courtesy.”

“Sorry.” Fili says, not entirely meaning it. The elf king only sighs, seeming not to have the energy to get angry.

“How were you injured?”

“Oin says it was soft tissue damage.” The elf king looks amused at that, as though Fili has just said something charmingly simplistic.

“Where?”

“Mostly my right side.” Fili suddenly feels as though he’s revealed too much. He supposes it doesn’t matter, the elf is going to be seeing his scar eventually anyway...and a lot more.

“Are you still in pain?”

“Not any more.” Fili says firmly.

“Good.” The king says and it sounds almost like a challenge. “Then I won’t have to be careful not to overtax you.”

To his immeasurable shame, Fili feels a slight stirring in his gut at the way the king’s eyes meet his when he says that. He tells himself that it’s just nerves.

“Is there a scar?” The kings voice breaks him out of his anxious musings.

“Yeah.” He grudgingly admits.

“Show it to me.”

Fili tentatively removes the white silk tunic. He knows he’s considerably softer than he was the last time he and the elf king...interacted. It has been nearly half a year and he’s been bedridden most of it and essentially forbidden from exercising for the rest. He’s been all too aware of the changes in his body, it’s part of the reason his ma has had to work so hard to make him eat. The elf doesn’t seem to take much note of it though, or at least if he does he does so discreetly, instead his eyes go directly to the scar.

He studies it from a distance for several long moments before setting his glass down on the table and coming to kneel in front of Fili. Fili doesn’t look down this time, he’s proud of that, though he’s aided by the fact that the elf’s eyes stay fixed on the scar the whole time. It’s a wide, ruddy stripe on his side with root like tendrils running off of it. Though his eyes take on a strange intensity, the elf’s expression remains mostly unreadable as he runs a single finger along it. His touch is feather light but still invokes a tiny flutter of pain.

Fili tried not to show any signs of discomfort in his expression, he thinks he’s succeeded too, until the king’s eyes dart back up to his face and he tilts his head inquisitively. Fili expects him to say something but he doesn’t. Instead he gets back to his feet and walks back over to retrieve his wine glass. He drains it and then sets it back down, to Fili’s surprise he doesn’t refill it.

“I hope you won’t take offence at this,” He says, his tone implying that he doesn’t care at all if Fili takes offence. “but I noticed that at our last meeting you had difficulty lasting.”

There isn’t even the vaguest hint of an insult in the statement but it wounds Fili’s pride none the less. Reproach must show on his face because the king feels the need to reassure him.

“As you’re young and inexperience it’s perfectly understandable but for what I have planned tonight you’re going to need a bit more stamina. To that end, I’ve a gift for you.”

“Another gift?” Fili says dryly. “Careful or you’ll spoil me.”

That gets a slight chuckle from the elf king and he never thought it’d bother him so much to have someone laugh at one of his jokes. The elf’s laugh is deep and rich, like chocolate and he hates that he notices that. He decides he won’t be making any more jokes, after all, he’s not here to fraternize. The elf goes to one of the bedside tables and picks up a small box which he hands to Fili. Fili opens it to find a gold ring much too large to fit any of his fingers but just large enough to fit around...oh.

“Do you know what that is?” The king asks gently.

“Yeah.” It’s the most Fili can get out without his voice cracking.

“I considered having it made in mithril but I thought you’d appreciate gold more.” Fili’s brow furrows and by way of explanation the king reaches out and takes ahold of one of his braids, rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger.

“What exactly do you have planned?”

“Don’t worry.” The elf says with a slight smirk. “That doesn’t come in until later.”

He reaches down and takes the box from his hand then then motions to the bed. Fili hesitates, not sure exactly what he’s supposed to do.

“Get undressed and climb onto the bed.” The king explains. Once again the elf tactfully averts his eyes as Fili disrobes. Once he’s on the bed Fili just kneels in it’s center and waits for instructions, not sure if he’s meant to lie down yet or not and not at all wanting to. The king refills his glass and comes to sit at the head of the bed. Fili moves further down the bed, wanting to avoid being touched for as long as possible. Sitting back against the pillows, the elf manages to look both completely at ease and as regal as if he were on a throne.

“Tell me....” The elf says, swirling the liquid in his glass. “Do you ever pleasure yourself?”

“Would you believe me if I said I didn’t?” Fili can’t help himself, he’s used to defusing tense situations with humor. The elf’s responding smile is strangely coy.

“Show me.”

“Wha...What?” Fili knows what the elf said, he’s not deaf, but he’s desperately hoping he heard wrong.

“Touch yourself.” The elf enunciates slowly. “Until you’re erect and then stop.”

He wraps his fingers around his length and then realized that they’re dry. The elf notices his dilemma and hands him the same bottle of oil from last time. He takes it hesitantly, pulls the cork out with his teeth and slicks his hands. As he starts to pump he closes his eyes and tries, at the very least, to pretend he’s alone. When that doesn’t work he tries to pretend he's with someone he actually likes. He tries to remember the last time Bofur had kissed him, though the fact that it was over a year ago doesn’t help. He thinks about the taste of brown liquor and the scratch of whiskers and big, rough, calloused hands tangling eagerly in his hair, running down his neck and over his chest, sliding under his shirt.

It almost works, almost, but the elf’s gaze on him feels like being stabbed by icicles. Anxiety begins to mount and soon his whole body is shaking. At the feel of large hands on his shoulders, he jumps nearly a foot. He opens his eyes to the site of the elf kneeling in front of him, an expression somewhere between pity and amusement on his face. He runs his hands down Fili’s arms and to Fili’s own hands, both of which are still wrapped around his member. He wraps his left hand around Fili’s right to keep him from moving it and brings his other hand up to the side of his face, caressing in a manner that almost suggests genuine fondness.

“You’ve no cause to be shy.” The king says softly.

“I’m not.” It comes out in a snarl without Fili’s even meaning it to. The elf slides his hands to the back of Fili’s neck and spends a few silent moments stroking up and down.

“Let me help.” He eventually says, withdrawing his hands and motioning to the head of the bed. When Fili only looks at him questioningly he elaborates. “Lay down and close your eyes.”

Fili obeys and then lays there feeling cold and vulnerable. The sudden warmth of the elf hand on his chest makes his breath hitch. He forces himself to relax as it slowly moves lower, lingering on the slight softness of his stomach before tracing a single finger over his hip bone. The pad of a thumb swirls in the hollow of his hip before the hand moves lower the wrap its fingers loosely around his shaft. The hands doesn’t move, just squeezes very gently, just hard enough for it to register.

“Did you grow up in the Blue Mountains?” The question comes quite out of nowhere and Fili frustratedly wonders if elves are capable of doing ANYTHING without incorporating a bunch of chit chat.

“No.” He answers tersely, his mind rather occupied with... other things at the moment.

“Really? As I understand, a dwarvish settlement sprang up there after the fall of Erebor.”

“It did but I didn’t live there.”

“Why not?” He then runs his thumb into the spot just behind Fili’s balls and applies more slight, steady pressure. Fili is embarrassed at the little puppy yelp this startles out of him. He nearly sits up but the elf places a firm hand on the center of his chest while he continues his ministrations with the other hand.

“Could we..we not talk about...” Fili stammers breathlessly.

“Of course.” The king says in the sort of tone usually employed to soothe fussy babies. He returns his hand to Fili’s shaft in a maddeningly gentle caress. Fili’s almost alarmed at having become as hard as he is so quickly. He expects things to progress the way they did the last time, then he feels the cold metal ring sliding onto him.

He’s about to say something but it’s stifled by a deep, lingering kiss.

“Do you know what’s going to happen now?” The elf asks between nips at Fili’s lower lip. He takes Fili’s lack of response as a no. “You’re going to penetrate me.”

“Huh?” Fili’s eyes shoot open.

“You didn’t assume I’d be doing all the work every time, did you?”

“I just....why would you want...”

“Because it will give me pleasure.” The elf says without a hint of self consciousness as he rises from the bed and removes his robe. Hs lies down beside Fili and looks at him expectantly. Fili gets to his knees and moves to between the elf’s parted legs. The whole situation feels unnatural. Most of what he’s heard about things like this in his life have been dirty jokes and those jokes are usually at the expense of the man on the bottom...it would seem elves have no such stigma.

For a moment he kneels there with the pale, smooth expanse of the elf’s body before him and feels overwhelmed.

“You’ll want to use your finger first.” The elf advises, wanting to help him along. His hands are still slicked with oil from before so he simply reaches down and slides a finger slowly into the elf’s opening, trying to ignore that fact that the elf is already hard (which isn’t easy given their position.) When his finger enters him the elf’s eyes flutter shut and he sighs contentedly. The tight, slick, stretch of the elf’s opening makes Fili’s bound cock throb almost painfully.

“Good.” The king purrs. “Now move it in a circular motion.”

When Fili obeys the command the king’s breath quickens but his expression remains serene. When Fili adds another finger the king’s lips part in a barely audible gasp and Fili’s ashamed to find his own lips tingling with the urge to kiss. A drop of sweat trickles down the elf’s throat and Fili finds himself wondering how it would taste. No, he tells himself, no, no, no. He brushes something inside the king that makes him moan and arch his back and Fili’s member twitches in it’s bonds.

“That’s enough!” The king hisses and Fili quickly withdraws his hand, worried he’s done something wrong. Apparently that’s not the case as the king grabs him, pulling him on top of him, and kisses him like he’s trying to suck out his soul. Without parting their mouths the king reaches down and takes ahold of Fili’s cock, guiding it into his opening. Fili’s hips buck instinctively into the tight heat inside and he involuntarily bites down on the king’s lower lip, drawing a sound somewhere between a moan and a growl from his slender throat.

It’s all too much and Fili’s sure that were it not for the ring he’d have cum by now. The king runs his hands down to the small of Fili’s back and rubs there in a soothing circular motion.

“Slower.” The king whispers against the side of his neck between breathless gasps. “Slower and deeper and remember, you don’t get your release until I get mine.”

Fili forces himself to stop and tries to get his bearings. His whole body is shaking and he’s soaked with sweat and his balls are heavy and sore. In an effort to ground himself he sinks his teeth into the side of the elf’s willowy neck. That ivory skin is so, so soft against his lips and the taste of salt and musk is intoxicating. It doesn’t help, if anything it makes matters worse.

He starts to thrust again, this time slower and more deliberate. He remembers that spot inside the elf he’d touched and tries to angle his hips to hit it. When the elf begins arching to meet his thrusts and murmuring in elvish against the side of his neck, he knows he’s succeeded. After a while the elf is moaning and clawing at his back. The sharp pain helps distract him from the persistent dull throbbing between his legs and so he’s grateful for it. After what feels like a tortuously long time to Fili, the king wraps his arms around him and squeezes so hard he’s surprised not to hear bones cracking. The pressure sends a shooting pain through his wound that has him gasping for air and then warm, thick liquid is spreading between them.

The elf loosens his grip but doesn't let go of Fili for several minutes. When he finally does Fili pulls out slowly, he’s so sensitive between this legs by now that he’s worried the tiniest little bit of friction will have him openly weeping. The elf rolls over to face him and pulls him close again. He removes the ring from Fili’s member and then in and wraps his hand around it. He doesn’t even need to pump, the touch alone is enough to send Fili over the edge. In his enemies arms, and covered with his bodily fluids, Fili falls asleep within minutes.

When he awakes he determines from the state of the room that he hasn’t been out long. He realizes he’s alone in the bed and looks over to the the elf king in the bathing pool. Looking down at the mess on his body, he decides it might not be so bad to join him. He gets out of the bed, goes over to the bathing pool and lowers himself into the water at the side of it opposite the elf. The elf gives him only a nod by way of greeting and Fili notes that he’s sipping another glass of wine. He starts to honestly wonder if Thranduil has some sort of drinking problem. While hastily washing himself he tries to avoid his wound and of course the elf notices.

“If you’d like, I have a salve that would fade the scar.”

“I wouldn't.” Fili responds without looking up at him.

“Oh, that’s right.” There’s unveiled amusement in the elf’s voice. “Dwarves think of those as ornaments, don’t they?”

“You sure know a lot about dwarves for someone who likes them so little.”

“I've never been able to bear ill will against anyone that I didn't know.”

Fili can tell he’s expecting a response so he doesn’t give him one. He simply finishes washing.

“Will I be...sleeping here tonight?” He tries to make it sound like he doesn’t care about the answer but fails.

“I suppose you’re not required to.” The king truly sounds as though he doesn’t care and Fili hates that that bothers him. “I’ve had a separate quarters arranged for you but you will be returning here tomorrow night, make no mistake.”

“I know.”

Fili is lead to his temporary quarters by another elf that he doesn’t recognize. He finds his things already inside and finds himself too drained both physically and emotionally to do anything other than change into his night clothes and climb into bed. He puts out the lantern besides the bed and lays there in the dark staring at the ceiling. After nearly an hour of sleeplessness, he begins to cry.

Chapter Text

Fili awakes the next morning with the sun streaming through the windows, not something he’s accustomed to. It’s also not something he particularly cares for, there’s a reason dwarves usually live underground. He pulls the blankets over his head and tried to go back to sleep, not quite ready to face spending an entire day surrounded by elves. Just as he begins to drift off again he hears a knock on the door. Cursing under his breath in Khuzdul, he drags himself out of bed and goes to the door. He finds Tariel on the other side for the second time in two days and is beginning to sense a pattern.

“Hello.” The word just sort of automatically comes out of his mouth.

“Good morning.” Tauriel says with a nod. “My King has instructed that you’re not to be allowed to sleep too late.”

“What’s it to him if he’s not going to be seeing me again until tonight?”

“I don’t know...and actually he’ll be seeing you again this afternoon.”

Fli feels his heart rate speed up just a little, he’d expected to have the day to recollect himself before he had to face the elf king again. He supposes he’ll just have to deal with it though, it’s not like there are any other options.

“Would you mind coming in for a minute?” He asks and Tauriel looks ambivalent but stepps inside. Fili closes the door behind her and when she turns to face him he suddenly becomes all too aware of the fact that he’s still in his night clothes. He pushes through the awkwardness.

“How are you?”

“I’m well.”

“Good.” Fili tries to decide exactly how he’ll be approaching the subject before he goes on. “Um...is it...alright for us to talk in here?”

“What do you mean?”

“I just...I know elves have good hearing.”

“There is no danger of us being overheard.” Tauriel assures him, her expression becoming expectant, she knows what’s coming. Fili decides that there’s no point in wasting time.

“Kil’s told me about what’s been going on between you two while I was laid up.”

“I expected that he would.” A barely visible blush spreads across her face. “He told me that he wanted you to be the first to know but that he waiting until you were well. He didn’t want to worry you while you were injured.”

“Yeah.” Fili smiles and then notices how tense Tauriel is. “You’re alright, at least by me anyway...our uncle’s another matter altogether.”

“Oh I’m well aware of that.” Tauriel’s blush deepens. “Kili is adamant that we should marry in secret and not tell him until after.”

“Kili is adamant?”

“Yes, he says that dwarves view the marital bond as sacred and so once we were wed he’d have to allow us to be together even if he didn’t approve.”

“Indeed he would but...you’re not ‘adamant’?”

“I think...” Tauriel glances down and then back up at Fili’s face. “I think that you’re uncle is already going to resent me and that us going behind his back to marry will only make him resent me more.”

“But you do want to marry my brother?”

“Oh, yes.” Tauriel smiles then and Fili can’t help but think that that’s a lovely sight.

“Well, if you both want it to happen then I do to but...do you want my advice? I don’t want to offer it if it’s not wanted.”

“I do.”

“If I were you I wouldn’t waste any time trying to earn my uncle’s favor. Even though he doesn’t know you he already doesn’t like you and he probably never will and there’s not really anything you can do about it since it’s for reasons that have nothing to do with you.”

“Your uncle doesn’t care for elves.”

“The same way your king doesn’t care for dwarves.”

“That’s another thing that worries me.”

“What?”

“Once I’ve married Kili I WILL be banished from here and I will have to go and live in the Lonely Mountain...among your people. Somehow I doubt they will be hospitable to me.”

“I’d be lying if I said you’ll get a warm reception but you’ll have Kili and me. Ma might have objections at first but she can be brought around.”

“Do you think so?”

“Of course, you saved Kili’s life and you make him happy. In the long run that’ll be enough for her.”

“But not for your uncle?”

“Uncle Thorin...” Fili takes a deep breath. “Uncle Thorin loves us as much as he possibly can but there are older, deeper things that have a far stronger hold on him... I realized it couldn’t be helped and made my peace with it a long time ago.”

Tauriel looks at him with such pity that he instantly regrets having said so much.

“Any way,” He soldiers on. “I just wanted you to know that no matter what happens or how you two decide to go forward with this, I’m on your side.”

“Your uncle won't like that.”

“I can take it.” Fili shrugs. “It won’t be the first time I’ve had to put myself between my uncle and my brother.”

“Thank you.” Tauriel says, her voice choked with emotion. She then bends over and quickly places a light kiss on his cheek. “I’ll wait in the hall while you dress.”

Once the door closes behind her Fili removes his night shirt and goes to the mirror to see what the damage is from the night before. He knows there’s little point in taking stock now since he has two more nights ahead of him but a sort of morbid curiosity makes him look. Apart from a few little bruises on his neck and scratch marks on his back he’s fine, or so he thinks, until his eyes trail down to the scar on his side. The whole area is slightly swollen and it hurts more than usual when he touches it. He goes to his bag a takes out the jar of salve that Oin gave him, he carefully rubs it into the area.

He dresses quickly, not wanting to keep his future sister in law waiting, and then emerges into the hallway. Tauriel is there standing with her back against a granite pillar. She smiles at him.

“Where is the king now?” Fili asks as they begin to walk.

“At present he’s in the throne room meeting with an envoy from Lake Town to discuss the conditions under which he will provide further aid.”

Fili tries to imagine what those terms will be. He doesn’t imagine the elf king doing anything purely out of the goodness of his heart but he does seem to like Bard (who is currently the very reluctant leader of Lake Town) so maybe he won't be too demanding. For his own part, Thorin has sent what builders can be spared to aid them, though Fili suspect it’s mostly to relieve his guilt over how he behaved when he was under the sway of the dragon sickness. They make their way to a small dining room where Fili is relieved to see only Balin sitting.

“I was wondering where they were keeping you.” He smiles at the old man who smiles back and then takes a seat at the table. “They been treating you alright?”

“Well enough I suppose but they’ve made it plenty clear that I’m not welcome here.”

“I’m sorry, you don’t deserve that. I don’t even know why Thorin insisted on you coming with, it’s not like there’s anything for you to do here.”

“I was the one who insisted.”

“Why?”

“Figured you would want to spend two solid days alone with nothing but elves.” Balin says and then glances up at Tauriel. “No offense miss.”

“None taken.”

“You can sit down if you like.” Fili offers.

“Actually I can’t, I’ve been given other errands.”

Tauriel departs with a slight nod and the two dwarves are left alone.

“Surprised they trust us to be alone together.” Fili laughs.

“How are you feeling?” Balin asks. “The wound isn’t playing up is it?”

“I’m fine.” Fili lies, complaining has never come naturally to him.

“Good.” Balin smiles. “Oin seemed a little concerned about you travelling when I told him we were leaving.”

“Well, he’s a healer, it’s his job to worry. Isn’t it?”

“I suppose so.”

The two eat in comfortable silence. Fili doesn’t want to risk talking too much for fear that Balin will ask him about last night. He’s not sure e’d be able to stomach even the vaguest of questions. Luckily when Baulin does speak he does it with his usual tact.

“You’re uncle wasn’t too rough on you when he talked to you before we left, was he?”

“No.” Fili shakes his head. “He’s actually handling this a lot better than I thought he would.”

“How bad did you expect it to be?” Balin looks equal parts amused and concerned.

“I expected us to be at war with Mirkwood by now.” It’s not a joke but Balin laughs as though it was and so Fili laughs too.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have some hand in his...scaling back his reaction a little.”

“You can just go on and keep having a hand in things.” Fili laughs. “I’m pretty sure it’s the only reason I’ve lived this long.”

“That’s not true.” Balin smiles sadly. “Your uncle loves you he’s just...a passionate man and sometimes that outpaces his brain a little.”

“I know, I know.” They’ve had this conversation more than once throughout Fili’s life and every time it feels far too much like Balin apologizing on Thorin’s behalf for it to be any source of comfort. He knows Balin means well though. Eventually another elf comes to fetch him and he bids Balin a reluctant goodbye. When the two of them were alone together he’d felt almost normal again. He guesses that’s all he gets.

He’s lead into the throne room where the king is waiting. The king dismisses the other elf with a nod to which the other elf responds with a low bow before departing. For a moment the king doesn’t even look at him, instead he stares off to the side contemplatively. He’s undoubtedly thinking about something that was said during the meeting.

“How’d it go?” Fili asks more to break the silence than anything.

“Dale is in dire straits.” The king says, seemingly to no one in particular. “Of course we all owe the Bowman a debt of gratitude but it falls to me to decide how far that gratitude is to extend.”

“Sure.” Fili grits his teeth. “Wouldn’t want to over do it.”

The elf king picks up on the tension in his voice and finally turns to look at him, his brows rising.

“Even compassion should have limits. Hopefully by the time you are a king you’ll have grown to understand that.”

“Yeah.” Fili pushes on with some difficulty considering the withering look the king is giving him. “But you use the port don’t you? So having it up and running again would benefit you...wouldn’t it?”

“You’re ASKING me?” The king sounds genuinely incredulous and Fili feels his face get hot, casts his eyes downward. The king sighs and goes on sounding exasperated. “At present my most efficient option would be to seize the port, which would be laughably easy to do given it’s weakened state, thus enabling me to conduct all future trade without having to pay the tax that I am usually charged for doing so. In fact the people of Dale should count it as their good fortune that I’ve so little interest in expansion and that dwarves have such a strong aversion to water or I’m sure you’re uncle would be considering exactly that as well.”

“My uncle would never do that.”

“I think that you should not speak of things that you do not know.”

“I think that YOU shouldn’t speak about my family, seeing as you said you wouldn’t. Is this how elves usually keep their word?”

The king glares daggers at him and for a moment he expects to be hauled off and executed, or at the very least locked back up but then the king closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens them his expression is placid again, though the fire in his eyes doesn’t entirely disappear. Fili thanks his lucky stars and silently swears not to let himself slip like that again. The king rises from his throne and starts off down one of the many catwalks leading from the the throne.

“Come walk with me.” He says without turning around. When Fili doesn’t instantly obey he pauses briefly. “That was NOT a request.”

Fili sprints over to his side and the two of them proceed down the catwalk. They go on like that in silence for some time but Fili doesn’t dare break it after what just happens. He tries to just appreciate the fact that if he’s not talking he can’t say anything stupid. When they start to head lower Fili gets anxious.

“Where are we going?” He tries to make it sound like a casual question.

“I don’t see how that matters, as you’re obligated to follow.” The king’s tone is tense and clipped and Fili knows it would be a bad idea to say any more. His heart speeds up when it starts to look like they’re going to the dungeon but then they take a right instead of a left. They wind up outside of a gated passageway and the elf produces a ring of keys from his cloak. He opens the gate and motions Fili inside. Fili half expects to hear the door close behind him but then the king steps inside and turns on the lantern in the corner. He looks around to see that the walls are covered with swords and daggers and axes.

“What is this?”

“This is where the confiscated weapons are kept.” The king explains. “I was informed that you were asking after yours.”

“Oh.” Fili is so relieved he almost smiles. He begins to look through the weapons for his own. Like everything the elves do, the room is very organized, but the sheer number of weapons in it makes it difficult for him to find his. A thought occurs to him.

“Do these all belong to people who are...in the dungeon?” He tries to make it sound like he’s only curious.

“They don’t belong to them any longer.”

Fili doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t want to press his luck, but his discomfort must have shown in his expression.

“The law is clear and they knowingly broke it.” The king explains pointedly. “Besides, they’re better off here than they would be were they imprisoned anywhere else. The punishment is their loss of time, nothing more.”

Fili pretends to be too absorbed in looking to respond. He’s spent enough time with his uncle Thorin to know when someone is on edge and shouldn’t be pushed. It’s strange that Thorin and the elf don’t get along better, considering how much they have in common. Eventually he comes across on of his throwing axes. Picking it up feels like running into an old friend that he hasn’t seen in far too long.

“Did you make that yourself?”

“Yeah.”

“I can tell by the way you look at it.” The king’s anger seems to have subsided for the time being. “Is that what you used to do before you became a prince?”

“I was always a prince.” Fili tries not to let the remark affect him. “But, yes, I used to also be a weapon smith.”

“A respectable profession.” The elf nods. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Yeah.” Fili looks up at him. “And I was good at it.”

The king’s about to respond when they both hear rapid footsteps coming down the hallway. In a few seconds an elf emerges from the shadows. She bows quickly and then tells Thranduil something rapid and urgent in elvish. Surprise passes over his features and he responds in elvish, nods down at Fili and and says something else. The king exits the room as quickly as he can without bursting into a full on run (there seem to be laws against him moving too quickly) leaving Fili alone with the other elf.

“Where’s he off to?” Fili asks.

“His son has returned.” The elf says without looking at him. “He’s going to the front entrance to receive him.”

“Where exactly has his son been this whole time?”

“I do not think that my king would appreciate my revealing too much.” Is all the elf says before starting off back down the way she came. For a moment Fili thinks that she means to leave him here alone until she turns and glances back at him. He follows and doesn’t bother to ask her where they’re going. After all, he’s obligated to follow.

Chapter Text

Fili spends the remainder of the day in his room with his weapons, sharpening and polishing and polishing and sharpening. He doesn’t mind this since it makes him feel more like himself than anything he’s done in a long time. By the time Tauriel comes to fetch him for dinner, each of his knives has a mirror shine. When she knocks on his door he just calls to her to enter, too transfixed by his work to tear himself away from it. For a moment she just stands there watching him work, looking at his knives which are spread out on the bed.

“He let you bring all of these back here with you?”

“Frankly he seemed a little distracted when him I parted and no one else bothered to take them from so...” Fili shrugs.

“All the same, I think you’d best leave them in your room.”

“If you say so but I think just the fact that he gave them back to me is a testament to how little of a threat he sees me as.”

“I still think it would be best that you not have them on your person when inside the castle.”

Fili just nods and finishes sharpening the knife he’s holding. when he’ done he places it alongside the others.

“Where to?” He asks as he stands.

“Your advisor is already waiting for you in the dining hall I brought you to earlier....and the king has instructed that I’m to remain with you there and to supervise you for the remainder of your stay.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

“Did...you do something wrong?”

“Not necessarily.” Tauriel sighs but before Fili can press her to elaborate she goes on. “Come, we should go.”

He rises and follows her, feeling it would be best not to ask any more questions. When he sees Balin waiting for him in the dining room he feels the same rush of relief as before. Balin looks a little surprised when Tauriel sits down to dine with them but doesn’t comment on it.

“How are you this evening?”

“Fine.” Fili says by default. “What have you been up to all day?”

“Well, with a little prodding I managed to get them to show me the library though there were still plenty of books that they wouldn’t even let me touch.”

“Different levels of security clearance are required to enter different parts of the royal library.” Tauriel explains. “There are parts only the king himself is allowed to see.”

“What I wouldn’t give to get in there.” Baulin smiles then turns to Fili. “Elve’s long lives make then especially good record keepers.”

Baulin’s complementing their enemies would have undoubtedly drawn a glare from Thorin but Fili only smiles in return.

“I myself was only allowed access into the second outermost chamber when I was captain of the guard.”

“What do they keep in the innermost chamber?” Fili asks.

“As I understand it mostly private records kept by former kings and I only know that because Legolas once told me about when he had to get express permission from his father to read his grandfather’s diary.”

“What’d he want to read that for?”

“Curiosity I suppose.” Tauriel shrugs gracefully. “Oropher died before Legolas was born and my king does not speak of him often.”

“Why not?” Fili can’t help but ask.

“I don’t know, in fact my king generally does not like to speak of the dead.”

Noting Tauriel’s slight discomfort, Balin changes the subject.

“I was disappointed to find Erebor’s own royal library completely destroyed.”

“That’s terrible.” Tauriel looks genuinely saddened.

“Well, books burn and dragons breath fire...honestly my hopes weren't very high to begin with.” Balin shrugs. “I had hoped that I could at least find mentions of dwarves in your historical records but there weren’t many and most of them were not flattering.”

“If you’d like...” Tauriel goes on tentatively. “I can speak to Legolas and see if he can get you some of the more detailed records from the inner chambers.”

“That’s kind of you but I doubt your prince is in the habit of doing favors for dwarves.” Balin laughs.

“If I explained the situation to him he might, he’s more...not as...rigid as his father.”

“I wouldn't want you going to any trouble on my account.”

“I’m surprised you still have any clout with the prince.” Fili says. “Considering your demotion.”

“Legolas and I grew up together.” Tauriel says simply.

Another elf enters the room and whispers something to Tauriel, shooting a disgusted look at both the dwarves, and then leaves quickly.

“I’m to take you to the kings chambers now.” Tauriel says, her expression becoming tense again. They both rise to leave, Fili cannot bring himself to look back at Balin on his way out. They traverse the usual path to the king’s chambers. Again Tauriel only knocks and waits for a reply but this time before she leaves him she reaches down and squeezes Fili’s shoulder. He turns to look at her but she’s already gone.

A desperate, irrational part of his mind points out that he’s alone in the corridor right now, he could make a run for it and go...and go... He shakes his head to snap himself out of it and then slowly opens the door. Unlike last time when he emerges on the other side of the crimson curtain he finds only the king there waiting for him. He’s standing with his back to Fili, looking into the hearth, but Fili knows that he knows he’s there. To his knowledge it’s not possible to sneak up on an elf.

Not knowing what else to do, he opts to stand silently beside the king and wait to be noticed. The king waits a beat and then speaks without looking at him.

“I suppose you’ve been told that my son has returned?”

“Yeah.” Fili responds, keeping his eyes on the fire.

“And Tauriel has informed you of the new arrangement?”

“She has.”

“Good.” The elf nods. “She has been instructed to ensure that you and my son never encounter one another but, should she fail in that, you are not under any circumstances to tell my son why you are here. Is that clear?”

“Crystal.” Fili considers that the question he’s about to ask may not be in his best interest but ultimately can’t stop himself. “He wouldn’t like the reason that I’m here?”

“He and I are of conflicting sensibilities in many areas.” To Fili’s surprise, the king’s reply sounds purely explanatory and not at all angry. In fact the king seems considerably less tightly wound in general than he was earlier.

“Why should I tell him I’m here?”

“If Tauriel does her job, you will not need to tell him anything, but if she does not you are to tell him that your uncle sent you here to conduct negotiations the nature of which is to be known only to you, your uncle and myself. He will want answers after that but to get them he will have to come to me.”

“I see, and then YOU’LL lie to him.”

“I know my son well enough to know when he’s better off having information withheld from him.”

All of the sudden Fili realizes something that’s so ridiculous he can’t help but laugh.

“You’re afraid he’ll get mad at you!” He blurts out before he can stop himself.

The king silences him with a cold glare.

“I do not FEAR it but it would displease me and you DO NOT want to be responsible for my displeasure.”

“Sorry.” Fili says, feeling about three inches tall. Luckily the king is in such a good mood (is this what constitutes a ‘good mood’ for him?) that the mild flare of temper dissipates quickly. All the same, Fili feels the need to smooth things over.

“Are you glad he’s back?”

“Exceedingly so.” The king says and somehow despite the lack of change in his facial expression Fili believes him completely. The hint of tenderness in his voice when he says it is almost...touching. There’s a long silence during which the elf king shifts in place just slightly. If he were anyone else Fili would swear he was uncomfortable.

“It has occurred to me...” The king says as he turns to cross the room in a manner seemingly meant to visually signify the change of subject. “That I should be making this more of an educational experience for you.”

“Should you?”

“Of course, what point would there be in retaining a resource unless it appreciates over time?”

“I take it the... ‘resource’ there is me?”

“Yes.” The king unstops the decanter and begins pouring a glass of wine. He looks at the one beside it and then at Fili.Fili nods, figuring he may as well drink. The king begins filling a second glass and goes on in a steady tone.

“Before our consummation, you were a virgin, yes?”

“Yes.” Fili admits reluctantly.

“And how exactly do dwarves define ‘virginity’?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Fili bristles at the question, not liking the implication.

“You’d be surprised how...flexible that term is among certain peoples.” The king says casually, giving Fili his glass. “For instance, do you mean that you’d never been penetrated or that you’d never had ANY intimate contact with another?”

“Um...the first one.” Fili keeps his eyes on the floor.

“I see.” The king does not sound surprised. “And what was the nature of this intimate contact?”

“You mean what did we do?”

“Yes.” The king smiles and Fili feels himself blush.

“We...just...kissed and he...uh...put his hand down my pants.” Fili mutters the last part but of course the elf has no trouble hearing it.

“But you didn’t reciprocate?”

“I wanted to but...we heard someone coming.”

“You were in a public place?” The king’s tone is mildly scandalized.

“Not public per se....is this going somewhere?”

“It is.” The king assures running a hand through Fili’s hair. Fili forces himself not to flinch away, reminding himself that he will have to get used to this eventually. He takes a drink from his glass instead. The king continues to pet him, taking a long swallow from his own glass. “Tonight you’ll be taking a more active role in the proceedings.”

“More active than last night?”

“Much more.” The king runs a finger up and down the back of Fili’s neck, making him shiver. He downs the remainder of his glass and then hold out his hand to take Fili’s. Fili drains it before handing it to him. The elf sets both their glasses down on the table and then goes over to the bed and sits down. Fili doesn’t move an inch until the king motions him over, still not wanting to create the illusion that he’s willing. Eventually he does climb up onto the bed but he stays at the far end of it.

The king lies back against the pillows and motions Fili closer. Fili crawls up the bad and kneels awkwardly beside him. After a few moments of inaction, the king takes Fili’s hand and places it on his chest.

“What do you want me to do?” Fili finally asks, afraid to move his hand.

“What do you think you should do?” The king asks, reaching up to run his fingers through Fili’s hair. “Don’t worry, I’ll tell you if you’re wrong.”

“Of course you will.” That makes the elf smirk and by Mahal does Fili hate that, hates it when Thranduil acts as though he actually likes him. He follows the suggestion of the hand pressing on the back of his head and leans down to kiss the elf. Again he’s being given control but that control definitely has it’s limitations. He can feels those limitations like thin but sturdy chains hanging all over his body.

He kisses the elf as aggressively as he dares and the elf matches his intensity. When he pulls back the elf bites his lower lip, holding him there for just a moment longer. He sits back again and tries to decide how to start. The king is clad in the gold robe and Fili slides a hand underneath it to feel the topography of his smooth, lean chest. It’s still surprises him that that icy looking skin is so warm to the touch.

The elf shivers when he runs a finger along one of his collar bones and Fili takes that as a cue to lean down and run his tongue along it. The elf sighs contentedly and presses slightly one the back of Fili’s head. Fili takes the hint and opens his mouth to suck at the collar bone. That gets a pleased rumble from the elf’s chest. When Fili begins to work his way up the elf’s neck, the elf tilts his head to accommodate him. Fili moves to straddle the king’s torso to get a better angle and the feeling of body heat on his inner thighs causes a distinct rush of blood to his groin. He hesitates a moment but then continues, figuring that’s what he’s here for so there’s no point in fighting it.

He suckles up the side of the elf’s neck, stopping before he reaches the ear, not wanting to touch that part of him that most clearly marks him as the enemy. Without thinking he threads his fingers into the elf’s hair and then pulls. Hearing the elf hiss in pain, Fili instantly stops.

“Sorry.” He says quickly, fearing reprisal.

“I find it amusing that you think you could actually hurt me.” The elf pants and Fili could swear that there’s an edge of playfulness in his voice. He doesn’t like what that does to him, mostly because it’s pleasant. He tell himself not to think about it, just move, don’t think. As he continues the elf’s hands are in constant motion on him, combing through his hair, petting the back of his neck, brushing his ears. Every touch ripples through him, he wishes that the elf weren't so damn good at this. He lets those hands guide him lower until he’s taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking.

“Harder.” The king growls. “Use your teeth but don't draw blood.”

Fili complies, biting down gently on the hard nub and gradually increasing pressure until the elf moans and tightens his grip on Fili’s hair. In spite of himself he finds it oddly gratifying to have such an effect on the mighty woodland king. He proceeds with a new enthusiasm, biting and sucking over the king’s torso, finding spots that make the elf squirm and lingering on them. He only stalls when he finds himself drifting below the king’s navel. Before he can rise his head the king tightens his grip on his hair, holding him in place.

“Don’t stop.” The king says firmly between gasping breaths. Fili’s stomach twists with anxiety, he’s never done...that before...never even thought about it. He swallows and proceeds. First he undoes the sash of the king’s robe then he grasps the base of the kings shaft. A traitorous part of his mind whispers that it feels like silk against his palm, he pushes the thought aside.

He licks the tip experimentally and finds the fluid leaking from it salty and...not altogether unpleasant. His lips are quivering as he wraps them around the tip. After a few minutes of him just sucking on the tip, the king’s hand presses down on the back of his head, not forcing but definitely insisting. Fili slowly takes more of the elf into his mouth but is stopped by the hand on the back of his head suddenly pulling his hair.

“Mind your teeth.”

Not sure if that’s meant to be a preemptive warning or if he’s already done something wrong, Fili proceeds with caution. He’s not sure he’s doing it right until he hollows his cheeks and the elf moans. The pressure on the back of his head returns so he continues to take the elf further into his mouth. It’s going fine until the tip hits the back of his throat, then he’s gagging and reflexively pulling his head back. To his credit, the elf doesn’t try to stop him.

“Sorry.” Fili finds himself saying for the second time that night.

“Not at all.” The king pants, pulling Fili back up his body. “That was actually quite good for a first try.”

The king rolls with Fili on top of him and the next thing he knows he’s pinned down by his wrists with the elf looming over him.

“In the future I shall just have to ensure that you’re given ample opportunity to practice.” The king says, that hint of playfulness returning, as he dips down to kiss Fili on the lips. For just a moment the king’s full weight is on him, pressing on his wound, and Fili gasps into the king's mouth. The king abruptly pulls back and looks into his face with concern.

“It’s fine.” Fili says automatically (it’s his usual response to looks of concern.) The king doesn’t say anything, he just reaches down and gently presses on the scar. Fili tries not to react, he really does, but elves are so damn perceptive.

“You should have told me you weren't well.” The elf looks directly into his eyes, his expression strangely insulted. He sits back off of Fili and Fili finds himself fighting the urge to grab onto him to keep him in place.

“It’s fine.” He insists. “It’s just a little pain.”

“Pain is your body's way of telling you that you’re over taxing yourself.” The king says, spitting it out as though it were an insult.

“Don’t see why that matters to you.” Fili matches his tone

“Because I am not a barbarian.”

When Fili doesn’t respond the king rolls his eyes and rises from the bed, pulling on his robe as he does so. He goes over to the table with the decanter on it and pours a glass of wine. Coming back over to the other side of the room, he takes a small bottle from the vanity and pours a drop of it’s contents into the wine.

“Drink.” He says firmly, extending the glass to Fili. When Fili glances suspiciously at the small bottle the king rolls his eyes again. “It’s a pain killer.”

Somewhat satisfied, Fili begins to drink.

“Tomorrow my physician will be examining you.”

“I’ve got my own doctor.” Fili looks up at him confrontation-ally.

“As per the contract that YOU signed, you are to spend your time here as I dictate.” The king glares down at him even more confrontation-ally. “Are you sure you want to violate our agreement over something so trivial?”

Fili wants to protest but it dies in his throat, instead he downs the remainder of the wine. He’s surprised to find the wine hitting him almost instantly...and then his eyelids are starting to droop...and his extremities are going numb.

“What...?” He forgets the question before he can finish it.

“Lie down.” The king’s tone is just a little softer now. Fili obeys but tells himself that it’s only because he can’t hold his head up. He lets himself fall back against the pillows and the elf comes up alongside the bed, pulling a blanket over him.

“Don’t you want me to...?” Fili glances down at the sash to the kings rode.

“No.” The king says firmly, taking a seat beside Fili on the bed. Fili is almost afraid at the effect the drug is having on him, or rather he would be if every muscle in his body wasn't going slack against his will.

“Who just keeps something like that around?” Fili slurs, his tongue numb, blackness gathering at the corners of his eyes.

“I do.” The king says flatly as he starts to pet Fili’s hair. “Now rest.”

Fili doesn’t so much ‘rest’ as he drops into blackness.

Chapter Text

Fili is awoken the next day by the fact that he’s too hot. He had fallen asleep (blacked out?) the night before with his clothes still on and he’s covered up. At Least his clothes still being in place means that nothing...happened while he was unconscious. Not that he had been particularly worried something would but it’s nice to have clear, physical reassurance that it didn’t. He sits up to find the room dimly lit, meaning whatever allows sunlight in must be covered. The architecture of the room is so complex that he hasn’t been able to find any windows and yet sunlight still usually finds it’s way in somehow during the day.

As he stands he notes the dull, throbbing ache in his side and remembers that he’s to be seeing an elvish doctor at some point today. He also makes a mental note that “pain killer” apparently means something different when elves say it. Taking the bottle off the vanity, he examines it for any hints as to what it’s contents are but finds none. Removing the stopper, he finds that it has a sort of cloying, acidic scent. For a moment he wonders why the king would need something so strong so regularly that he’d keep a bottle of it in his bedroom (the elf had no injuries that he could see) but then sternly reminds himself that he DOES NOT care.

He places the bottle back where he found it and goes back over to the bed, finding a fresh set of clothes on one of the bedside tables. Though he’s relieved to find that they're his own clothes, he’s also more than a little unsettled at the thought of some elf going through his things to get them. It’s not that he brought anything with him that he wouldn’t want others to see, it’s more the principle of the thing. He hopes that at the very least the king had Tauriel do it.

He’s not sure what to do once he’s dressed, being fairly certain that he’s not allowed to leave the room on his own. Though it was never clearly stated that he wasn’t allowed to go about on his own, more implied than anything, and a mischievous part of him is curious as to how long he could walk about the castle on his own before getting caught. It occurs to him that, were Kili there, he would be suggesting just that and he suddenly feels very alone. He has to remind himself that he wouldn’t want his brother with him in THIS place. Eventually he decides that there’s no harm in him at least looking out into the hallway. After all, if he just stays in here how’s anyone to even know that he’s up?

He walks through the curtain and down the short passageway to the door and opens it just enough to look out with one eye. Content that there’s at least no one immediately outside the door, he slips out and closes it softly behind him. From the passage in front of him, he can hear the waterfalls in the throne room. He knows that if he goes out that was he’s certain to be caught, so he decides to try his luck with one of the passages off to either side of him. Besides, he reasons, if he at least stays in the general vicinity of where he’s supposed to be he’s less likely to get in trouble if he’s caught.

At random he picks the passage to his right and starts down it, taking careful steps to ensure that he make as little sound as possible. He’s not quite as light footed as an elf but he likes to think that he can be stealthy when he tries. Eventually he comes to a gold door with elvish runes etched into it, he knows he can’t read them so he doesn’t even try. On the other side of it he finds a small octagonal room at the center of which is a suit of mithril armor on a dressing dummy. Before proceeding into the room he glances around to ensure that there are no other entrances so that he doesn’t have to worry about being surprised by anyone.

The craftsmen in him can’t help but admire the armor and without thinking he reaches up to run his finger along one of the one of the intricately etched designs on it. He catches himself instantly and pulls his hand back as though he’d been burned. He redirects his attention to the back wall where there is a life size likeness of a male elf carved. It’s not Thranduil, it’s not annoy one Fili recognizes. In front of the carving is a low table (kneeling height for an elf) that’s covered by a sheet of crimson silk and on top of that sheet are two swords of the kind that Fili usually wears on his back (but fancier...or course), a longer, more delicate looking sword and a pair of wrist daggers.

As Fili looks over the incense burner at the front of the table and the tall candles at it’s back, it dawns on him that what he’s looking at is a shrine. He looks up at the carving on the wall and notices that it’s eyes are looking downward at him and suddenly he feels guilty for being there. He’s intruding on something deeply private, that’s what that gaze tells him. He back away from the carving slowly and then turns and runs from the room. Even after he’s outside the room and has closed the door behind him, he swears he can still feel those stone eyes on him. Feeling shaken, he decides he should just cut his losses and go back to the king’s chamber but when he gets back there he finds Tauriel waiting by the door.

“Where were you?” She asks immediately, her expression bordering on panic.

“I just...got tired of waiting around so...”

“You didn’t touch anything in there, did you?” She glances back the way he came and lowers her voice.

“No.”

“Are you SURE? Because he’ll know if you did.”

“I didn’t.” Fili shakes his head. “I swear.”

Tauriel must believe him because she calms just slightly.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to come. I had to take the opportunity to speak to the prince while the king s cloistered with his advisers.”

“He has advisers?”

“Of course...is that surprising?”

“I guess not.” Fili shrugs. “I just find it kind of hard to imagine him taking anyone else’s advice.”

For a moment it looks as though Tauriel may defend the king but then she changes the subject.

“I’m to take to to see the royal physician after you’ve eaten...is there something wrong?”

“Just my wound’s playing up a little.” Fili says dismissively. “It’s probably nothing.”

Tauriel looks concerned but doesn’t press the matter, Fili appreciates that. When then get to the dining room it’s empty.

“Where’s Balin?”

“He’s already had his midday meal and is in the library.”

“What time IS it?” It finally occurs to Fili to ask.

“It’s half past noon.” Tauriel smiles.

“Thought you weren’t supposed to let me sleep late.”

“My king instructed me to not wake you today.”

“He’s worse than my ma.” Fili rolls his eyes. Tauriel laughs a pretty, musical laugh and Fili finds himself smiling. Eventually his food is brought in and they both sit down. Fili gives it a moment before he asks.

“So, how’d your talk with the prince go?”

“He said that he’ll see what he can do.”

“And that’s a good sign?”

“It is, he was quite sympathetic to your scribe’s plight and when he puts his mind to a problem it usually gets solved.”

“I’m surprised he cares at all.”

“Of course he does.” Tauriel smiles. “Written histories are very important to the Sindar, they believe no people should be without one.”

“That’s decent of them.” Fili says begrudgingly, keeping his eyes on his food. “Is there a reason you had to wait until the king was in a meeting to talk to the prince?”

Tauriel seems caught off guard by the question but recovers quickly. Before she answers she looks around and listens carefully for a moment as though to assure they’re alone.

“The king...”She goes on softly. “Has gotten it into his head that his son has...feelings for me.”

“You mean... ‘feelings’ feelings?” It’s what Fili expected but he wants to know rather or not he needs to worry about it.

“Yes.” Tauriel looks mildly embarrassed.

“Well...does he?”

“Not that he’s ever indicated to me.” Tauriel says resolutely. “And, besides, it makes no difference if he does...I’m in love with your brother.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Fili reassures. “It just that, if he does have feelings for you, you can see how that could eventually spell trouble for Kili?”

“I assure you it won't and besides the only indication of it I’ve ever gotten is what my king has said to me about it.”

“So it’s possible he’s mistaken?”

“Entirely possible. He’s a more than competent leader but he’s far from infallible.”

“Don’t I know it.”

They both go uncomfortably silent for a moment, then Tauriel speaks.

“I suppose at the very least this means that when it comes time for me to leave here my king will have no objections.”

“There’s a silver lining if ever I’ve heard one.”

Tauriel smiles again and, for the moment, Fili feels content. When he finishes they start making their way to the doctor. Fili tries not to show his nerves but he’s really not looking forward to it, being forced to undress for one elf is bad enough. They go back through the throne room and into the corridor leading to the king’s room, they take the passage of to the left which eventually leads down a narrow staircase and to a narrow, gilded door. Tauriel knocks and a voice calls out in elvish from inside.

“Would you like me to come in with you or wait outside?” Tauriel asks, looking down at Fili.

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather you wait out here.” For a moment Fili worries that that came out too harsh but then Tauriel nods in understanding. Fili enters the room to find a black haired she-elf waiting for him. She’s tall, even by the standards of elves, with dark, grey eyes and harder features than are common in female elves. It takes a moment for Fili to find his voice.

“Hello.”

“Good afternoon.” She says in more soothing of a voice than Fili expected. “I am Curuves, the king’s personal physician. I was informed that you have an injury about which you are concerned.”

“Well...uh, first off, I’m not the one who’s concerned. In fact everyone else seems to be a lot more concerned than I am.”

“I see.” She looks bemused. “Would you mind describing your symptoms?”

“Didn’t he tell you about it?”

“He did but I find descriptions of ailments to be more accurate when I hear them from the patient.”

“Sure.” Fili nods. “Well, it’s this wound I got...there’s a sort of dull pain in it all the time...it’s barely noticeable really...but then if someone presses on the wound or I get too tired or out of breath the pain gets worse.”

“Is that all?”

“Mostly...I mean...it’s been kind of...swelled up lately to...not all the time though.”

“Is there discoloration?”

“It was kinda’ purple the last time I looked at it...if that’s what you mean.”

Her brows knit just slightly and she motions to a cot behind her.

“Would you mind lying down?”

“Alright.” Fili says hesitantly and begins to remove his tunic.

“You don’t need to disrobe if it would make you uncomfortable.”

Lowering his hands, Fili makes his way to the cot and lies down on his left side. The doctor approaches and kneels beside him. She reaches out and gingerly pulls up the part of his tunic covering his right side. For a long moment she examines it without touching it, then she purses her lips into a tight line.

“How did you come by this?” She finally asks.

“Honestly I don’t really know?” When she furrows her brow, he elaborates. “Apparently whoever gave it to me also beat me pretty bad about the head...actually not so much beat me as kinda’ picked me up and slammed me against a boulder.”

“It was an orc?”

“Yeah.”

“This was most likely from a mace then.” The doctor thinks aloud as she continues to analyze the wound with her eyes. “It was very deep.”

“It was.” Fili confirms even though he’s not sure it was a question.

“You should count yourself lucky there was no poison on the blade.”

“I guess...still managed to get infected though.”

“That explains the delayed healing.”

“Delayed?”

“Wounds usually heal from the inside out but because of the infection there’s damaged tissue beneath the outer scarring that your body is still repairing.” The doctor explains. “I’m sincerely surprised that your own physician allowed you to travel.”

“He wasn't exactly thrilled by the idea.”

“You should have heeded his counsel.”

Fili want’s to say ‘well, tell that you your king’ but the doctor doesn’t seem to know why he’s here and if the king didn’t see fit to tell her then Fili’s not going to be fool enough to tell her.

“What am I supposed to do about it then?”

“I’d advise that you not exert yourself for at least another two months.”

“I’ve already been ‘not exerting myself’ for half a year now.” Fili feels himself getting frustrated but tries to tamp it down.

“It may take more than a year for the damage to be completely mended.”

“More than a year!” Fili bolts upright, suddenly finding it hard to breath. The doctor places a comforting hand on his arm.

“That’s how long it will take the damage to completely heal but you may be able to return to your usual level of activity before that.” Despite the doctor’s reassuring tone, Fili begins to feel like something very heavy is sitting on his chest. Before he knows it he’s on his feet, he doesn’t know where he’s going, he just knows he needs to get out of that room. He doesn’t make it far before the doctor seizes his arm. She turns him around and kneels in front of him.

“Where are you going?” She asks in a firm, measured tone and that seems to snap Fili out of it. His head clears enough for him to realize that his heart is beating so fast it’s making his chest hurt and he’s shaking and he backs of his eyes are stinging with what he refuses to admit could be tears.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers without meaning to. “I don’t know what that was.”

“I think you should sit back down.” The doctor says, her tone suggesting that she does know. He makes his way back to the cot and the doctor pours some liquid from a pitcher into a glass and then sits down next to him. When she hands the glass to him he looks into it questioningly.

“It’s only water.” She explains.

“Thank you.” Fili says hoarsely and takes a sip, if she did put something in it it doesn’t have any taste.

“Tell me, have you found yourself anxious often lately?”

“No offense, but I’d really rather not talk about personal matters with someone who reports to the elf king.”

“My king would not trust me as he does were I not capable of keeping secrets.” The doctor fixes him with her dark grey gaze. “He’ll ask for a report on your general physical well being and I will give him one but the specifics of what happens between you and I in this room are to be kept in confidence and he understands that.”

Fili’s not entirely convinced but the prospect of having someone to whom he can unburden himself is tempting. He decides it can’t hurt to at least answer her questions.

“Yeah, I am anxious a lot lately.”

“And is this anxiety triggered predominantly by discussions of your injury?”

“Mostly.”

“But not only?” The doctor seems to be deliberately avoiding looking directly at him, as though she knows that doing so will make him less inclined to speak openly.

“No...not only.”

“Any chance that you’ll tell me what else there is?” The doctor says it in a way that makes it sound both important and unimportant that he answer...Fili makes a note that he should learn how to do that some time.

“I just though...” Fili tries to decide just how much he can say. “I thought it would feel different to have the mountain back.”

“Different?”

“I mean...don’t get me wrong, it’s great, it’s better then I could've ever dreamed...it’s just...it doesn’t feel...right, like I thought it would.”

The doctor doesn’t say anything, just waits, and eventually Fili feels compelled to elaborate.

“My whole life practically all Thorin has talked about was Erebor and how it was our rightful home so I just thought that when I was actually there it’d feel like it was where I belonged...like all was finally right with the world...but it just...doesn’t.”

“Why do you suppose that is?”

“I don’t know. It’s like how sometimes I’m in my own room and I’m afraid to touch anything, because I don’t want to get it dirty or break it but then I remember that it’s MY room, those are all MY things and I think that I shouldn’t feel that way about my own things. I start to wonder what’s wrong with me...and...that’s gotta’ be it...there has to be something wrong with me. Everything’s exactly the way it should be except me. I feel like I’m ruining it...everything’s supposed to be fine now and the only reason anything isn’t is because of me.”

“It sounds to me as though you’re putting a great deal of pressure on yourself.”

“Pressure makes diamonds.” Fili laughs bitterly. “That’s what uncle Thorin always says.”

“It can also make rubble.” The elf says, looking at Fili for the first time since the conversation began. Fili feels his throat tightening again and finds himself suddenly unable to speak. “Would it help if I told you that what you’re feeling is normal?”

Fili laughs even more at that but the doctor continues undeterred.

“I’ve tended enough warriors to know that battle doesn’t just leave marks on the body. Considering that you took a traumatic injury after which you’re entire life changed, I’d think there was something wrong with you if you weren’t negatively affected.”

“But I don’t even remember the battle.”

“Clearly some part of you does.”

“Thorin got injured just as bad as I did and he actually remembers it and he’s not as shaken up as I am.”

“It may not seem so but haven’t you tried to put on a brave face for the sake of those you love?” At that Fili can only nod. “So how are you so sure that your uncle is not doing the same?”

“I guess...if he were I wouldn't know it.” Fili concedes.

“And it was also not HIS first battle.”

Fili want’s to ask how she knows it was his first but then realizes it’s probably written all over him. Suddenly the situation feels uncomfortably familiar. Damn elves.

“Old warriors learn to carry their afflictions more gracefully.”

“But I don’t want to be ‘afflicted’...I just want to feel like myself again.”

“I know this is the last thing you want to hear but all you can do is be patient. In time the pain, both physical and mental, will fade but you should not be surprised to find that your ‘self’ has become something different. That’s what experiences do, they transform the self...I’ve found that those that are steeped in blood do so all the more.”

For a moment she waits for Fili to respond but he can’t. He doesn’t trust himself.

“I will tell my king that you require two months more of physical recuperation.” The doctor says in her calm, steady voice. “I believe that that is all it is necessary for him to know.”

“I appreciate that.” Fili says and is surprised at just how much he means it.