Fili gets too little love in the movie! I wish I could buy a "Fili - Character Expansion Pack". I enjoy all the dwarves and wish they could have extended movies about each of their lives. The BOFTA movie left me happy and yet dissatisfied in a way, because Fili died alone and they didn't show anyone grieving over his lifeless body, all cold and alone in the snow *sniff*. Anyway, here's a "Feels for Fili" story, a fluffy tragedy, a Fili, OC oneshot that I tried to brainstorm. It's brief, but I hope its interesting and not too cheesy:)
Forged As One
"Go," Fili touched her arm hesitantly, "Go with Kili."
"Let me stay with you," she whispered back, harshly and desperately, well-trained fingers reaching for the axe strapped to her side. Her heart felt a shot of pain that overwhelmed the feelings coursing through her when he touched her hand. Fili, on the other hand, struggled to push away the tender memories of the few days prior and focus on the urgency of the moment.
He shook his head and Fryja knew Fili was serious in his command. She complied immediately and turned to follow Kili in scouting out the lower levels of Ravenhill. Before she left, however, Fili drew her firmly and gently to him and let their brows meet. It was a strained, tender, but heartfelt gesture. Unspoken words and feelings were mutually understood, and then they broke contact.
She longed to be at side, but could not forget that moment all those months ago., so recent and yet distant, when he drew her aside in the damp cave of the Misty Mountains and wiped her flaming auburn hair dry in his rather rough, boyish way.
"You must do as I say," he turned Fryja around, grasped her arms and gazed with concern into her soft grey eyes, "Trust me. You are my responsibility, Fryja, and I cannot protect me if you do not do as I say. Promise me."
"I promise," Fryja agreed soberly. From that moment on, she never questioned him. She longed to be his, at his side, always, as the betrothed of the prince and then the future queen of Erebor.
Fili nodded stiffly, satisfied. At that point, this were a little awkward between them, and he was still struggling to understand the sinking feeling deep within him and a rock hurtled its was to her in the thunderbattle. He had shielded her with his own body, and clung to Fryja to keep her from falling. She had tried to move to shield him, and Fili had to admonish her to "keep close behind me."
"Fili," Fryja shrieked as she took in the sight of her beloved in the vicious grasp of Azog. Dwalin reached forward and held the lass back as she fought against the restriction. At that moment, all thoughts escaped her and she only wished to follow the flaming, burning instinct to save him, to go to him. But of course she could not; that would be her death. Dwalin's strong arms grasped hers like a father's would.
Fili's crystal eyes flickered, meeting hers. She saw no fear, only pain. Fryja's eyes were so fixated on Fili's that she failed to notice the piercing of Azog's cruel weapon into his back. Then Fili's head dropped. A soundless wail caused her to sink in the knees as she saw her husband's writhing body still, dangling above them.
And then he fell. They dropped him like a worthless hunk of coal and her eyes burned with hot tears.
She must have screamed, shouted, and cursed as she threw down the shield and axe, rushing to Fili's lifeless body. The grief was raw, the pain unreal. Surely this was not him that lay before her dead. Surely they had not come so far, fought so hard, only to have their lives ended in this sudden, savage way.
For Fryja, her life was no more.
She had given him her heart and would not take it back. It died when Fili was taken.
Her axe lay behind her in the snow, abandoned. She cared not if a thousand orcs came and stabbed her, if in one blow they pierced her live body and his lifeless one.
Fryja simply clung to his beautiful, beautiful corpse. His blood seeped into the snow and his face was covered with her tears. Her hands trembled as she ran them over his face, and then she threw herself on him, kneeling by Fili's body and losing herself to raging, roaring grief.
Thorin and Kili turned and left at once, no doubt thirsting for blood, for revenge. She cared for neither. There was nothing to live for, to fight for, now that Fili was dead.
The Beginning of the Quest - the Dinner at Bag End
The knock on the door told Fili his uncle had arrived. The dwarves, hushed, gathered around the doorway, drawing near to their king and his magnetic, magnificent, awe-inspiring personage.
After the initial introductions, Thorin was led to the dining room and on the way, he drew out his overcoat two well-worn contracts and handed the to Balin, who received the documents and exchanged a knowing, pleased smile with Thorin, who nodded in return. As he passed Fili, Thorin also clapped him on the back and actually smiled a warm, paternal smile, one of genuine joy.
"Congratulations, Fili," he mumbled in their language and Fili had no time to inquire as to this strange unexplained interaction because the wizard was ushering Thorin to the dining room.
"And what of Dain," Dwalin leaned across the table, "Is he with us?"
Fili glanced up from a discussion he was having across the table with Ori. This he wanted to know, because it was a matter of great weight that would bear significantly on the outcome of the quest.
"No," Thorin shook his head, "He will not come. He said that this quest is ours and ours alone."
Thorin paused, and remembered something,
"However," he announced, standing up and crossing his arms proudly, "I bring glad tidings. A marriage has been arranged and signed for between my sister-son and heir, Fili, and the daughter of Dain, Fryja Foultooth. You are to be congratulated, Fili!"
Thorin positively beamed at Fili, and Kili clapped his astonished brother on the back. Fili's jaw dropped, and the room erupted in cheers.
"What... wait..." Fili replied, dazed.
"Ah, the lass took little convincing, " Balin waved his contract knowingly at Thorin.
"It's hard enough to get a lass these days," Gloin commented knowingly.
"She was very eager to be wed to my heir," Thorin nodded at Fili, "Of course, under Balin's counsel, I settled and signed everything."
Obviously Thorin was quite impressed with the Lady in question, but Fili was more upset than he was happy. He knew, of course, how lucky he was compared with a great many dwarves, but Fili did not want to be thinking about such things as yet. They had a Quest before them, for Mahal's sake! What was this uncle thinking? This was the wrong time, the worst possible timing in fact.
Fili ignored Kili's teasing comments, wide grins and impertinent nudges. He just wanted to bury his face in his hands and groan ungratefully. Still, out of respect for Thorin, Fili forced a thankful smile at his uncle. Thorin was known to be a bit pushy, but really! To arrange for a marriage, all without forewarning, or even asking Fili's opinion.
Everyone simply ignored Fili's obvious discomfort, toasting to his happiness. Then the meeting progressed to more important matters, but not much time had passed when the doorbell rang and the discussions about the map and key were abandoned in favour of speculating the identity of the next visitor. Could it be the burglar they needed? Curiousity was high, and by the time Bilbo ushered in the lone figure, everyone was straining for a look at him.
Or her, actually.
Thorin immediately turned and with an unusually larger-than-life beam on his face, put his arm paternally around this strange dwarf woman and drew her to the table.
"Fryja Foultooth has agreed to join us on the quest," Thorin announced, "Welcome, welcome! Your father Dain has impressed us with accounts of our great skill in weaponry and we are proud to have you as the fourteenth member of our company."
A second bombshell. Fili stared at her and she glanced around the table warily, a little shy because she was meeting with a roomful of strangers, one of which she knew was her betrothed and furure husband.
Fryja's eyes scanned the table as soup and bread were brought and she was seated
Fili's eyes met hers for a second, and he blushed to the roots of his golden hair when her eyes brightened at once and her lips parted slightly in recognition.
Uncle has described her to me, Fili realized. Oh, what a fool he was. There were only so many dwarves in their company with hair the colour of golden wheat... only one, in fact.
Kili was sending her lewd winks but Fryja did not see them because she was busy taking in the sight of Fili which she obviously, immediately, found attractive.
Fili found this very off-putting, and his eyes quickly darted away when she smiled broadly at him, revealing the great gaps of teeth in her mouth.
Third bombshell - He had a fiancee, she was joining the Quest, and she had serious dental issues.
Fili couldn't have been more discomfited. She was probably the type, the kind of lass he found off-putting, the kind that tried too hard, too desperately, by the way she gazed at him with starry eyes.
The rest of the night passed with Fili hiding in the shadows, sticking to the corners and trying to pay attention whilst avoiding the dwarrowdam and any thoughts of her. Sure, she looked fit and attractive enough in spite of her teeth (or lack of them), but there was nothing Fili wanted less than a female in his life.
"So it looks as if we've lost our burglar," Balin sighed. Thorin shook his head in reply, and just then, caught sight of Fili skulking to the pantry quietly and hopefully unnoticed.
"Fili!" he called, and Fili forced his feet to take him to where his uncle and Balin stood in the round, earthy smial.
"I'm so proud of you laddie," Balin held out his hands for a hug and Fili noticed Balin's eyes were watery.
"Is it true?" Fili's eyes darted back and forth between his uncle and Balin. Of course, that was a foolish question. Thorin never lied. Still, hopefully it was a massive joke.
"Of course," Balin whipped out the ominous and sinister contract, and Fili gulped at the awe and rarity of it, "See? Everything signed and in order. The marriage is official, or rather, the betrothal is."
"We will solemnize the union soon enough," Thorin added, "When we reclaim Erebor. If not, we will venture further East and winter in the Iron Hills with Dain and his kin."
"Fryja has journeyed a long way West," Balin commented.
"Aye," Thorin nodded, "She asked me many questions about you and she was very certain, as certain as can be, Fili. You don't know how proud this has made me... how very"
"She stopped to straighten herself before arriving here," Balin explained, "This quest will be an excellent opportunity for you to get to know Fryja better. What is a beautiful lass, is she not? Are you not happy, Fili?"
"Aye," Fili gulped, "Am nervous, is all."
"Of course it's only natural," Balin clapped him on the back, "And as for all that... ahem... the things that go on between and lasses, you have nothing to fear. When the time comes, Thorin will tell you what you need to know."
Balin looked past Fili's shoulder up at Thorin, who quickly reacted in terror and mouthed, "Gloin".
"Or your uncle Gloin...doesn't matter," Balin waved his hand dismissively and pushed a confused Fili past him, "Now go and light your pipe in the parlour, your uncle and I have a few matters to discuss."
Stay in the shadows, Fili said to himself. He could feel a pair of feminine eyes following him all that night, and then the morning after. He ignored Kili' teasing and rode close to Dwalin who seemed the least excited of all the company members. Fryja was too shy to approach him, thankfully, and rode close to Ori and Dori with whom she had become fast friends.
Still,as the journey proceeded Fili found himself accepting Fryja as fact. He decided to tolerate and accommodate her presence, and something told him there was more to her than initially met the eye. She was a skilled axe-bearer, there was no doubt, confident and capable when she thought none were looking.
They exchanged several words over time, and steadily their relationship progressed, especially after an initial faux pas on Fryja side when she rode next to a reluctant Fili as he chewed on an apple and asked him, being unable to think of anything else, how many children he intended to have.
Fili spat out the apple and was glared at by Bilbo for the tremendous waste of a delectable mouthful of the Golden Shire variety. Thankfully, there was a deluge of rain at the present and no one else heard the rather premature question. Fryja immediately, rather embarrassed, replaced her inquiry another, more suitable question about weaponry.
One night, before the incident with the trolls, Fryja found herself without an assignment when they set up camp, and offered shyly to accompany Fili and Kili.
Fili, being rather annoyed by her persistence, brushed Fryja off brusquely and told her to "stick to camp."
She then skulked back silently and sat a little away, by herself. Balin brought her a bowl of soup of dinner and she ate it rather dishearteningly, turning away from the other and busying self with the sharpening of her axe rather vigorously after that, big shameful tears welling in her eyes - it was obvious that Fili did not care for her as she did for him.
And then he came running into camp, and she was amongst the first to rush to the burglar's aid, having her axe in hand already.
She caught Fili eye two in the ensuing tussle. He was first impressed with her (long honed) skill with the axe, and then when she was strung up with the rest on the troll's spit and roasted over the fire he was obviously furious and concerned, which would have been a rather wonderful moment for her if not for the fact that Fryja was about to throw up and eventually end up as a troll's supper.
First came acceptance, and then gradual affection. They managed to spend quite a lot of time becoming friends. Fili and Kili made her laugh a great deal and they had much to talk about, so many commonalities to discover. Each day, Thorin grew more gruffly pleased with his success in matchmaking.
Up until the night they spent at Beorn's house, Fryja convinced herself that Fili thought of her as no more than a sister. Thorin Stonehelm, the older brother she worshipped, had trained her in the axe. He was both stern and affectionate, and she missed him greatly.
Fili settled down between Fryja and Kili. Kili was already sound asleep, but he felt uncomfortable in this strange and unsettling environment. Fili did not feel safe, and could not bring himself to sleep, not just yet.
Fryja pocketed her roughly-hewn panpipes that she often took out simply to look at, that reminded her of home. She drew the twin knives from her coat lining and began to run the thin of her finger along the sharp blades, checking for nicks and scratches.
She was homesick and knew it. At home in the Iron Hills, there was family. She knew and loved her home. Being in the company of strangers, dwarves who were her kin but who were knew to her, for days on end, was taking its toll.
"There are new knives," Fili commented, looking over Fryja shoulder. She felt her heartbeat quicken as she put one in his friendly, outstretched hand. Oh, how it hurt to look at him in the eyes. He made her shrink and lose her wits as she strove to hide her vulnerability.
"My brother Thorin made them," she whispered, "Forged them for me. A betrothal present."
The last fact slipped out so easily and unnecessarily that she clasped her hand over her mouth. Fili was not comfortable discussing their relationship, and though he was kind and protective, she knew that their impending marriage was not something Fili was eager to discuss.
"It's all right," Fili started to say but she said at the same time,
"I'm sorry."
Fili reached out for the next dagger, and she handed them to him with a slight, unseen, blush as she wondered if he could feel her heart beating faster at the contact.
There were two daggers, two different runes on each on them.
One read "Lost", the other, "Found".
Fili ran his finger along the runes,
"What does it mean?"
"I don't know," her voice was strained, though soft, "My brother speaks in riddles."
"It's a lovely present. Your brother must care for you a great deal."
"Aye, as you do yours."
Fili bent his head down and wanted to say something. She was leaning on the pillar on the side next to his and they could not see each other's faces.
They were presents. For his wedding. To this lass who stood next to him.
He felt admiration for her, and if he was honest, a growing affection. Fryja was eager, eager to know him and be part of his life, to be his friend. He felt somewhat irritated with himself, and Fili resolved to make amends.
"I look forward to meeting him at our wedding," Fili commented as naturally as he could.
There was no mistaking the sudden intake of breath, clear in the still night, even above Bombur's regular snores.
Thorin was asleep nearby. Normally he would chide his sister-son to settle down for much-needed sleep, sleep Thorin often quite hypocritically denied himself in favour of brooding, guarding the company, or eavesdropping, as he was presently doing so now.
Fryja was quite beyond words as she smiled abashedly. She was thankful no moonlight illuminated the involuntary smile that crossed her face as her heart leap and her mind registered was Fili was saying. Then, she was quite undone when Fili came around, rustling the straw on the stable floor as he did so and put the knives gently in Fryja hand, pressed a kiss to her cheek and retreated quickly to his spot next to Kili and bashfully pretended to fall into sleep.
"I love you," he had whispered into her ear, pressing his large palm around her nearly-equally-as-large ones.
Fryja had gulped and simply nodded.
In the morning, if anyone noticed Fryja eye's were red but her countenance usually lifted they had the grace not to say something, not even in Iglishmek.
If anything, the attachment between Fili and Fryja grew exponentially in the coming days and soon they could not be kept apart even if Thorin had decreed it so. It was a fresh, innocent, but passionate romance.
"Where is Fili?"
Fryja had turned around in the small boat after carrying a store of weapons with Ori and then when she looked around for her beloved Fili, he was nowhere to be seen. Fryja shouted to be heard above the din and rubble of the Laketown crowd, including a merrily playing band.
"Kili is injured and needs to heal," Thorin informed her, his voice softening a little, "Fili wished to remain with his brother."
"Oin and Bofur are not here as well," Fryja commented, her heart sinking at the thought of leaving Fili behind.
Thorin merely nodded; he had other issues to consider.
Meanwhile, Fryja stayed close to Balin or Ori. She tried to be helpful, brave, even, but when the dragon flew off to Laketown she disappeared into one of the corridors, slipping away when the rest of the company ran to observe the spectacle and shedding a few private tears of grief and longing. She was convinced Fili was lost to her forever and the thought was unbearable. Her heart swelled with longing for him, for his smile and his embrace, for his blunt words and in-concealable emotions.
"Fili!" Fryja flew down the steps to meet him in the treasury and Fili ran embrace her shorter frame in his welcoming arms, "You're alive. You're here!"
"The dragon is dead," he mumbled, "Thank Mahal, the dragon is dead. This is our home, Fryja, though perhaps you are better acquainted with it than I"
Fili gestured in the general direction of their surroundings.
"We will wed soon?" she asked softly, turning large inquiring eyes.
"Soon," Fili promised, stroking her hair with one hand and using the other to take and kiss her hand with an eager smile.
"I've missed you."
"So have I."
They were married that very night, in fact, and Thorin's malady did not serve to mar a second of either Fili's or Fryja's overwhelming, almost unbearable happiness. To commemorate the dragon's death, Thorin boldly solemnized their union in the solemn gathering of their company and sent the young couple to make camp. His obsession with the Arkenstone did not dim the enthusiasm he had with regards to securing the line of Durin. Dain would be here in a matter of days, Thorin reasoned, and he would have trouble keeping the besotted pair apart until then. There was nothing to wait for, anymore, not after he had waited for such a long time.
Dwalin watched helplessly as Thorin flew to confront the orc who had just slain his sister-son and heir. The grieving widow was now Dwalin's to protect and he knew that It was possible, after all, that she carried his child - the princess would have to be protected.
But Fryja had none of it. She would not be torn away from Fili's body, and right before Dwalin's eyes, seconds after she rushed to her husband's side, a hail of crude, barbed goblin arrows were launched at the grieving widow, ending the momentary, unbearable pain that engulfed her entire being. She slumped over Fili, united with him in death as she had recently been in life.
There was no time for Dwalin to register the sight, for a barrage of foul, blood-thirsty orcs seized his attention. It was not until the Battle was complete that Dwalin could tend to the two lost souls. As he bent down to separate them the tears flowed unhindered down his cheeks. He was not alone in this, as it took the combined strength of father and brother, Ironfoot and Stonehelm, to bear the dreadful weight of their cold, bloodied remains.
Mahal was cruel; he had robbed these young souls of their portion in this life.
Dain took the throne for the first time with reluctance weighing down upon his heart. He never intended for Fryja to die moments after they were united on the battlefield. Ah, but he was proud. She had died with Thorin Oakenshield and his nephews and would be buried beside her husband. As for Dain's initial anger at discovering that Fryja was married (albeit grandly with much gold) days before he had arrived at Erebor's gates, instead of at the great feast he had planned, it had completely dissipated and been forgotten. If that bugger Thorin Oakenshield was still alive...well...
Dain Ironfoot did not want to be on the throne. He wanted to see his daughter by her husband in the Great Hall, taking her place as the queen of the land whose children would rise from greatness to glory. Instead, Dain's bottom now rested on the spot he felt he did not deserve; Thorin Stonehelm and his sons would follow him.
Surely this was not meant to be.