Note: I only own my OCs. That's about it.
This is an AU. Takes place about 6 years after the Battle of Five Armies.
The first time he saw her, she was dancing merrily at the Durin's Day celebration. She was all smiles, her light brown hair, an amber color, twinkled in the candle light as she was spun in Bofur's arms. He was laughing happily as well, of course, cheered to have such a lovely dance partner.
The grand hall was packed with Erebor's citizens, all gathered together for a grand banquet party and then, a dance. The stone walls sparkled with minerals against the candlelight. There was an opulent chandelier hanging from the ceiling and a small orchestra playing music in the corner. The dance they were doing was a traditional folk-dance. His battle training from Dwalin and Thorin made him more than capable of dancing with a partner adequately enough while distracted.
Fili brought his attention back to the lass who had asked him to dance only a few minutes earlier. She had a predatory gleam in her eyes, and he was taken aback by the intensity. Her hand was gripped tightly on his shoulder, almost to the point where it was painful. She was pulling him into a conversation, and as much as he tried to follow her words and to be polite, he was very distracted by the lovely lass that Bofur had in his arms.
It wasn't this dam's fault that he wasn't a very attentive partner.
The music changed suddenly, and thankfully, it was time for him to switch partners. Kili swept in, no doubt seeing his brother's distress, and they switched partners.
And now, dancing with him, was sweet Tilda.
Thank Mahal.
She had grown in the last six years. Now at about 14 she was even taller than she was before. She had light brown hair and was becoming a proper human woman. Her resemblance to Sigrid was so striking now, Fili had a hard time not mixing the two names up whenever he saw Tilda.
Sigrid had married the master of the Lake-town, a kind young man that had grown up with her, so he hardly saw her these days.
Fili was sure he would have to start helping Bard and Bain beat suitors away any day now. Tilda was far too pretty to remain anonymous in Arda for long. She gave him a smile and asked him how he was enjoying the celebration.
He responded properly as possible and, though he tried to keep his focus on Tilda as any appropriate dance partner would do, his eyes strayed as he looked again for the lass that had been dancing with Bofur earlier.
He frowned slightly as he failed to find her in the hoard of dancers.
He had no idea where she had got to.
He was curious about her, and well, it seemed like she was the brightest person in the entire room. His eyes were drawn to her before, as if she was the only dam in the whole room, and now he couldn't even catch a glimpse of her.
"Fili, are you looking for someone?" There was a devilish twinkle in Tilda's eyes as she asked her question.
Over the course of the last six years, ever since Smaug's desolation and the battle that took so many lives, Fili and Kili had grown quite close with Bard's three children.
They were like their younger siblings. And they insisted on teasing and protecting them as much as possible. And Tilda insisted on doing her best to pester both of the princes as if they were her own brothers, especially when it came to females.
Kili, of course, always had Tauriel at his side, who only smiled mysteriously, which encouraged more teasing.
And then, well, Fili was hopeless when it came to females, so it wasn't quite as much fun.
Tilda continued to move her feet in the traditional dance she had learned only a few years earlier.
"You're not looking for a girl are you?" Tilda looked around the room and asked, sounding shocked. Fili wasn't interested in females or males, or really anyone besides family or close friends.
"No. Of course not. I have the loveliest dance partner in the room right here." Fili appeased, giving her a full on smile. He was very good-looking when he got out of his shell and wasn't too shy, of course.
He was trying to distract her, which meant that she was right!
"You are! Have you asked her to dance yet?" Tilda gasped, curious about a dam that Fili had actually noticed. She would have to write to Sigrid as soon as possible.
"Er..." Tilda groaned. He hadn't asked her to dance. That noise from Fili was what they always got whenever he didn't want to answer one of their questions.
"How can one of the bravest people I know be afraid to ask a nice dwarrowdam to dance?" Tilda demanded suddenly, almost bringing them to a standstill.
Fili prodded her along back into the rhythm of the music that was played, hoping that nobody was overhearing the conversation between the two of them.
"I'm not afraid. I'd just prefer to know her." Fili explained to her, feeling a coward as he did so.
"And pray, tell me, how will you get to know her when you won't even try to speak to her?" Fili narrowed his eyes at Tilda's query.
She gave a triumphant smile, and at that moment, the music changed again.
One of the nobleman dwarves spun his way, Tilda turned out of his arms, and into his arms came another dam.
His eyes widened in recognition.
She was even prettier up close to him. He didn't realize that was a possibility.
He swallowed deeply as she smiled at him shyly.
"Hello." She greeted him and allowed him to begin steering them into the rhythm of the dance.
"Hi." He almost grunted. He flinched slightly at his own tone of voice.
Why couldn't he say anything else?
He then began to spin her around and she matched his dancing. Her light brown hair was beginning to become loose in the back, her maiden braid flying in front of her right temple. Up close he could see that she had a very bright smile, light brown eyes, and the darkest eyelashes he had ever seen. Her cheeks were pink with light sweat from the dancing. Her skirt was a simple brown, with a cream long sleeved blouse and a dark brown corset over. He tried to take in as much as he could while trying to come up with some converse about.
He sighed, and as he did so the dam's face fell.
He could have kicked himself.
Tilda was right.
He was a coward.
He couldn't even introduce himself to her.
"I can see that you're a big talker." She said, her face rearranging itself into a calm, smooth, bemused expression.
"Sorry." He replied. Once again, only a one word answer.
There must be some explanation. Perhaps he was coming down sick. There had to be a reason why he couldn't unglue his tongue from the top of his mouth.
Perhaps he was beginning to run a fever and growing delirious.
She wasn't really in his arms and he wasn't really making a fool of himself, was he?
Her smile fell slightly once again.
So he wasn't seeing things. He was just acting like a regular old idiot.
"Well, it's alright. We can just enjoy the dancing, if you'd like." She told him, before giving him an almost pitying look, as if he was a little dwarfling who didn't know his words yet.
He cursed inwardly. He had sounded too short with her, both times that she tried to start a conversation!
Unfortunately, that happened more often that it should have lately, with everyone he knew.
They continued to dance in silence. He honestly had no idea what to say to her—his mind was a blank slate.
He comforted himself in the fact that she seemed content to keep dancing.
They spun and twisted, she matched his footsteps easily, and she felt perfect in his arms, as if she had always belonged in his embrace. Now if he only he could say something.
Then the music changed, and she spun away from him, this time into the arms of Nori, who gave him a devilish wink.
Fili narrowed his eyes at Nori. Didn't he have his own wife to dance with?
He finally turned his attention to the dam he was currently dancing with.
"Oh thank Mahal." He breathed a sigh of relief, wishing that the celebration was almost over.
It was his mother. Disapproval was written on her face.
"Really, Fili. Can't you at least pretend to enjoy these things a little more?"
He flashed her a winning smile and replied, "No, I really can't. I try amad. I really do."
She only gave him a bemused look in return.
He did his best not to look for the dam that he had just danced with. If his mother found out that a lass had caught his attention, he'd probably end up betrothed to her by the end of the night.
He felt guilty as he thought of that pretty dam. He had been rude to her, and he had every intention of making it up to her. He was going to find her and introduce himself to her, and properly ask her to dance once again.
The song ended and he let go of his mother.
He looked all over the great hall intent on finding that dam.
He felt a slight annoyance rise within him.
She wasn't there.
Had she just been a figment of his imagination?
No, he had held her in his embrace during the dance for a few minutes.
She had to be there somewhere...
There were so many people in attendance, that he missed her slip out of the great hall.
A petite dam wandered back to her home, in the lower levels of Erebor. She shared a small, two bedroom unit with her father. It was only at his request that she go to the Durin's Day celebration in the first place. There was a grand banquet, with more food than she had seen in a very long time, and then, of course, music and dancing.
It was fun (which was more than she had been expecting), but she was getting tired, and she had to be up early to work.
"Home already Eira?" She heard her papa's voice call out from the parlor of their small, but comfortable house.
"Aye."
Her father looked her over. She still appeared decent, but her hair was slipping from it's maiden and family braids, tendrils falling from her loose plait, down her back.
No doubt a consequence from all the dancing.
He eyed her intently and asked, "Did you happen to meet any nice dwarrow?"
She spied the mischievous look on her father's face, as she shrugged, refusing to answer her father's question.
She was of age, had been for over twenty years now, but she had no desire to marry.
At least not yet.
He teased her mercilessly, telling her that it was only a matter of time before he would pass into the Halls of Mandos.
He wanted to meet his grandchildren before he passed on. That's what he always told her.
She hummed slightly to herself as she pulled out a blanket, thread and needle from the little corner of the parlor that she had claimed as her own. She began sewing as she continued to hum.
The dwarf noticed the look of annoyance on his daughter's face and realized that she really hadn't answered his question.
"Aren't you going to sleep?"
"I need time to wind down. Is that alright?" She asked, looking up from her sewing needle.
"Of course. Just remember you have to be up early."
"I know," she commented quietly.
Her mind wandered to all the dancing in the hall.
They had only been there for three months. It had taken her some time to adjust. She wasn't used to living in a moutain.
Her father took up his work at the forge immediately, using his skill as a blacksmith to create more weapons for the armory.
While the Longbeard clan, led by King Thorin, had reclaimed Erebor, it didn't mean that they were completely at peace. There was always news of Orc raids, scattering and killing all over the country. The royal princes were quite good at leading their army, and Erebor was a natural fortress.
They didn't have too much to worry about regarding an invasion.
She did miss seeing the blue skies and riding as much as she used to.
Her parents fled the dwarf settlements in the White Mountains when her mother was pregnant. She didn't know why exactly they had left, but she never pressed her mother or father about it, sure that they would tell her in time.
They settled near the Eastern Fold of Rohan, where she was born. Her father made a humble trade of weapons and armor, becoming friends and allies with the Rohirrim. Her mother was a midwife, who helped many human women deliver infants.
They lived in the open skies, grew their own food and made their own clothing. It was a simple life.
Eira loved it.
But, the orc attacks on the Rohirrim became more common. Her mother eventually passed on from an attack six years earlier.
Her father had cut off his beard in his sorrow and shame.
The shame of being unable to protect his eternal mate.
After the most recent attack, they both decided to make their way to Erebor.
And so, they began their journey on their own before coming across a group of dwarfs, Broadbeams and Blacklocks, who were also heading toward the Lonely Mountain.
They agreed to journey together and that's how Eira arrived in Erebor.
She worked in the gardens, tending the vegetables and fruits. She was trying to work with Master Balin, to get his approval to build a greenhouse. As it stood right now, the harvest would have to preserved as soon as possible in order to save what they could for the long winter.
She sighed as her needle threaded through the blanket that she was sewing.
She allowed her thoughts to wander to the celebration.
She was not sitting by herself at the dinner. And yet she may have well been all alone. She did not know anyone and nobody bothered to try to speak to her.
And then, after dinner, the dwarf named Bofur asked her to dance. He was a kind miner that she had met a time or two before and was always very polite.
She recognized the music being played and knew the dance steps, and the moves.
Master Bofur was a good dance partner. He kept up a good pace, but not too hard, so that they could speak.
Then, when she switched partners and found herself in the arms of the golden haired dwarrow...
Her insides squirmed and her thoughts became uncomfortable. She had not seen a dwarf that handsome in a very long while. She had never met him before—she was sure she would remember meeting him.
There was something about his eyes that made her feel like he was seeing through her. They held an intensity that she wasn't used to.
And a great amount of wisdom as well.
How could that be when he didn't look much older than she was?
He gave her a small smile, but that was it.
Maybe he was annoyed that his partner had switched on him. The human girl that he had been dancing with was quite pretty, in the human way. She knew that there were some dwarves who preferred human women as marriage partners.
And she knew that she was not the prettiest dwarf maiden around. She lack a large bosom, her hair was a plain light brown, and she was devoid of a beard, or really, any facial hair at all. She didn't worry about it growing up, since her mother never had a beard either. But here in Erebor, it was the fashion for the dams to grow facial hair and where beads, ribbons and jewels in them.
She sighed slightly and then shrugged. Oh well.
She didn't even bother getting the dwarf's name.
It was alright though. She was almost positive that she would never see him again.
Oh, how wrong she was.
Author's note:. This will be a multi chapter fic. I have a lot written already and plan on posting a new chapter every two days or so I have almost 50000 words written at the moment. (Thanks Nanowrimo!).
I do love Fili. IN the books the dwarves, except Thorin, all kind of blend together. So one of the things I appreciated about Peter Jackson's interpretation is that they are all pretty distinct. I especially loved Fili. I feel like he didn't have as near as much camera time as the other members of the royal family, but he always had a quiet strength and sense of responsibility that I respect quite a bit.
Anyways, reviews are appreciated. This will get dark in a bit, but it will take awhile, so hold on and enjoy the fluff while it lasts.