Chapter Three
Homeward-Bound
Fili
Two weeks after Tauriel's gorgeous brunette babe, as she liked to call the young client, she still would not shut up about him. To Fili's knowledge, she hadn't seen the boy again since then, but she was certain that they were soul mates, much to his annoyance. It wasn't doing wonders for Legolas' foul mood, either.
"Hey, Leggy, are we still having dinner at your place on Friday?" she asked. It was closing time on a Wednesday, and she and Fili had just finished cleaning up. Legolas sat perched on the front desk, flipping irritably through a magazine.
"Yes," he replied, giving a particularly violent flip to the page he was on, succeeding only in tearing it. "And don't call me that."
She giggled and ran a slender hand over his perfect hair. "You secretly love it. Are you sure your father is alright with us coming over? He hasn't seemed overly fond of me recently."
Legolas sat down his magazine, giving her a disbelieving look. "He likes you just as much as he always has. Of course it's fine. You know you both have a place in my home whenever you need it."
She looked unconvinced but dropped the subject. And Fili took that as his cue to say goodbye and head home. He normally walked, but the weather had looked unforgiving that morning, so he'd driven to work in his dad's Jeep Rubicon. Fili didn't have his own car, since he had totaled his last one a couple years prior and still refused to get a new one. He didn't really trust himself with a car, but Thorin had insisted he take the Jeep today, claiming that he was acting ridiculous about the entire situation.
Thorin had been right, as always. The car was parked just behind the shop, and by the time Fili got the doors unlocked and climbed inside he was moderately wet from the hammering rain. He turned on the car and the heater, even though he knew the car wouldn't warm up by the time he got home, and pulled out of the lot, gravel crunching under the tires.
After an uneventful drive he stumbled inside, wiping rain from his eyes and shaking it from his hair, much to Bilbo's displeasure.
"Fili! What on earth? I just finished mopping the floor."
"Sorry, Bilbo," he replied, shucking off his coat. He hung it on the row of hooks next to their front door, and then took a step towards the kitchen, but that's as far as he made it.
"Ah, ah, ah!" the small man tutted, stopping him in his tracks. "You take those muddy boots off, young man. If I didn't know better, I would think you weren't scared of me anymore, the way you come traipsing in here, leaving a mess in your wake."
Fili lifted his hands in defense, trying hard not to smile at the small man. Fili was only about an inch taller than Bilbo, being 5'6", but Bilbo was far more slender, causing him to appear much smaller. "Don't worry yourself, Bilbo. I'm still terrified of you."
"Good!" he huffed, shuffling back into the kitchen, feet bare.
Fili chuckled and unlaced his muddy boots, depositing them next to the front door, and then followed Bilbo. Both he and Thorin were in the kitchen, mulling about and doing random things to prepare for dinner. Fili took a seat at the counter to watch, fascinated by the whole ordeal. Thorin wasn't much of a cook, dare he say crap at it, actually, but recently he had taken up the task, trying to prove he could be just as good as Bilbo. Fili highly doubted that it would ever happen. Bilbo was the best cook he had ever known.
"Maker, Thorin! What on earth are you doing?" the tiny man exclaimed, gesturing towards the onion Thorin was chopping. "Do you have any idea what you are doing?"
Thorin gave a great sigh and set down the knife. "I'll never be any good at this. It's too hard."
"Says the business man," Bilbo grinned. "I could never do your job. That's too stressful for my liking."
Thorin snorted and washed his hands, before taking a seat next to Fili, allowing Bilbo to finish his work on the onion. "You do the majority of my job for me, you know. In fact, you practically do all the work."
Bilbo waved his hand in dismissal, dumping the chopped onion into a sizzling pan. "Nonsense. You have to handle the banking and all the tossers trying to take your businesses from you. There's enough for you to deal with on your plate. Just let me do the cooking."
Thorin gave one of his rare, kind smiles, and turned to his adopted son. "How was your day, Fili?"
He shrugged. "The same as always, I suppose. Nothing too interesting happened. I had a few boring clients, Legolas pined over Tauriel, she flounced around, acting like her usual self, going on about the same client she had two weeks ago. Am I missing anything?"
Thorin chuckled and lifted his eyebrows.
"Oh yes," Fili nodded, as if he'd just remembered something important. "And Dwalin stopped by and poked fun at us for a while."
Dwalin was Thorin's best friend, and he managed the tattoo shop, since Bilbo already had to deal with the coffee shop and bookstore. He would come by every once in a while to do whatever work he needed to do, make sure everyone was doing their job, and then spend a couple hours bothering the young artists. Everyone took it really well, although occasionally Dwalin did a good job of ruffling Legolas' feathers, but that wasn't much of a feat.
"Is that a good or bad thing?" Thorin asked.
"Dwalin bothering us, or my day being completely normal?"
"The normality of your day, I suppose."
Fili sighed and drug his finger across the counter in a figure eight thoughtfully. "Good, I guess. At least it wasn't a bad day, but I do wish that something exciting would happen now and again. It's so dull at the shop sometimes."
Both Thorin and Bilbo nodded in understanding, but Fili didn't want to talk about himself anymore, so before anyone could respond he said, "How were your guys' days?"
Bilbo answered first. "I stopped by the coffee shop to see how our new barista was doing today, and I'm pleased to announce that everyone loves him, including customers!"
"You're a good employer," Fili replied.
Bilbo blushed slightly and gave Fili a light pat on the cheek. "Always such a charmer."
"I try my hardest," Fili replied, smiling warmly and his second father. For years people had questioned Fili which of his parents he looked to as a mother figure, and time and time again he had tried to explain to them that neither one of them were like a mother. They were both men, they were just two different people. He had two dads. And he liked that.
"I actually think I might go down to the coffee shop tomorrow and draw for a while," Fili continued. "The atmosphere helps me to focus. Will the new guy be working tomorrow? I'm interested to meet him."
Bilbo nodded, turning back to the stove. "I believe so. He works in the afternoon and evening, until closing time. Also, I'll probably be there all day doing some end-of-the month management stuff, since it's almost June."
"It's my day off," Fili said, "and there's probably other, more important things I could do, but I haven't had any nice, quiet, 'me' time for a long while."
"And you deserve it," Thorin noted. "You've done really well for the last couple of years. You're a good worker and a great kid."
"I'm not much of a kid anymore," he mumbled, to Bilbo's great frustration.
"Don't you dare talk about leaving us again!" he exclaimed in a shrill voice.
"Bilbo, I'm twenty-two years old."
"And our little boy! You can stay here as long as you need. You don't have to grow up so quickly!"
Then, to Fili's utter horror, the smaller of his two fathers made his way around the counter and smothered the blonde in a tight hug and multiple kisses to his face and the top of his head.
"Bilbo!" he cried, trying to push the shockingly strong man away. "Stop it! Stop! Have mercy!"
"Only if you promise not to leave home anytime soon. I'm not ready for it!" he shouted, all while Thorin laughed over the commotion.
"Fine! Fine, I promise I won't. Just let me go. You're going to give me nightmares."
Finally freed from Bilbo's arms, Fili raced out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his room, the other two smiling at his retreating form.
Fili awoke late the next morning, having allowed himself some much-needed extra sleep. He'd nearly worked himself to death lately, finding it to be the perfect distraction from the distressed thoughts he usually had to deal with.
He rolled to check the clock that sat on his nightstand, to find that it was nearly noon. Shocked, he flung himself out of his warm bed and climbed into the shower, scrubbing himself down and rinsing off as quickly as possible.
He was eager to spend a day at the coffee shop, drawing. It used to be something he commonly did on weekends, when he had been in college, but after his car accident he'd dropped out and gotten his job, no longer having (or bothering to make) the time for himself to do so.
After his shower, Fili pulled his hair back into a ponytail, to keep it out of his face, dressed, grabbed his supplies, and left the house. Since the weather was much nicer than the previous day, he carried his things in a backpack and walked to the small shop, enjoying the sun warming his pale skin. It was nearly summer time, and he couldn't wait for the healthy-looking glow it would provide for his skin.
The moment Fili stepped foot inside the coffee shop, his brain seemed to stop working. His eyes couldn't have possible grown any wider without falling out of his face. There, standing behind the register, was Tauriel's gorgeous brunette babe.
Remembering how to move his feet, he stalked towards the counter. "It's you!"
The other boy gave him an odd look, before boldly, exclaiming, "It's me!"
"What?" The blonde spoke.
"What?" The brunette countered.
Fili could not have been more confused. "Uhhh… you were at the tattoo shop the other day. My friend, Tauriel, was your artist."
"Right," the brunette responded, suddenly turning an alarming shade of red. "I thought you were just a stranger, trying to mess with me, but now I know who you are. I didn't recognize you without all the black clothing."
Fili sighed, grinning bashfully. About a year ago, Tauriel had convinced him to start wearing darker colors to work, claiming that he didn't look enough like a tattoo artist, considering he dressed in mostly red and beige, and didn't actually have any visible tattoos. Now, apparently, people couldn't recognize him when he dressed like his normal self.
"I could say the same about you and that hairstyle of yours, but I guess that's the downside to the food industry."
"And you apparently choose to do the opposite, seeing as how yours is pulled back, and you're certainly not at work."
"It's warm outside. And I plan on drawing for the next few hours. I don't want it in my way."
"Oh? So you're an artist inside and outside of work."
The easy banter continued on for a couple of moments before another customer walked in, forcing Fili into ordering so he could get out of the way. He went with his usual – a Chai Latte with a shot of espresso. Then he thanked the barista and went to find a table.
An hour later he found himself invested in a charcoal drawing of a girl that was sitting on the opposite side of the shop, alongside all of the drawings he had done of other coffee shop patrons that were strewn about the table haphazardly. People were his favorite subject to draw, particularly with charcoal.
The girl was currently absorbed in a novel of some sort, ebony hair spilling over her shoulder and down her back. Every now and then she'd lift her left hand to bite at her nails, a look of deep concentration etched across her face…
"Hey, do you mind if I sit with you?"
Fili jumped, nearly tumbling out of his chair, and looked up to see the brunette boy.
"It's my break, and I don't want to sit alone, and you're the only person I know… even though I don't actually know you all that well. Heck, I don't even know your name."
Fili continued to stare at him, unsure of why he was at a loss for words. He could feel his mouth hanging open stupidly, as if he had been about to respond and then stopped, but couldn't bring himself to close it. The boy had taken off his apron and collared work shirt, let his hair down, and stood there in dark skinny jeans and a loose, billowy, blue tank top. Fili had a sudden itch to draw the boy.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to bother you. I'll, just, uhh, find somewhere else to sit."
He turned away, and suddenly the blonde snapped out of his daze, grabbing the other boy's arm. "No, it's fine. You're not bothering me at all."
"You sure?"
"Absolutely. My brain just isn't functioning properly today, I guess."
"I have those days," he responded, sitting down across from the blonde, before turning his gaze to the mess of drawings. "Wow, you're really good."
"Thank you," Fili murmured. He was used to being complimented. Everyone knew he was a decent artist. It was his art hanging around the coffee shop, after all, since Bilbo had insisted he show off some of Fili's work, but having this boy tell him he was good did something funny to his insides.
The boy smiled and extended his hand. "Kili."
"Pardon?" Fili replied, staring at the offered hand.
"My name," he clarified. "It's Kili."
Fili's azure eyes looked up to meet brown ones, and he shot his companion a look of pure disbelief. "You're kidding me, right?"
The brunette withdrew his hand, placing it in his lap, taken aback. "What do you mean? Of course I'm not kidding you. Why would I kid about my name?"
"It's really Kili?"
"As far as I'm aware."
"Ouch, no need to get sassy."
The other boy smiled again, reminding him of a child. There was a sort of youthful innocence in his face that Fili didn't often see. "Well, in that case, pleased to meet you. My name is Fili."
The brunette, Kili, gave him wide eyes for a moment before bursting into hysterics. "You really had me going there for a second! That would be crazy if our names were actually that similar!"
Fili scratched his head, not sure how to convince Kili that he was telling the truth. "It is. They are. I mean, that really is my name. That's why I thought you were kidding about your name."
"I see you two have met," a third voice, Bilbo's, entered the conversation, scaring both boys.
Fili stared hard at Bilbo for a moment, before replying, "Yes. We have. Would you care to explain why you didn't tell me the new barista has a name so similar to mine? You could've at least mentioned it. I mean, it's a bit interesting."
"Wait," Kili interjected. "You know each other?"
"Of course," Fili rolled his eyes. "He's my dad."
Kili looked dumbstruck, dark brows knitting together. "Really? You two don't look anything alike. And yeah," he said, turning to also stare at Bilbo, "why didn't you tell me that my name is so similar to your son's? It is quite a coincidence."
"I'm adopted," Fili said, answering the first of Kili's questions.
Bilbo took a seat, glancing between them. "Would you two just calm down? I didn't mention it to either of you, because it didn't really seem necessary. Is it a crime?"
"No," Kili replied. "I guess not."
"But it is interesting. Wouldn't you agree?" Fili added.
"Yes, yes of course it is, but 'Fili' isn't actually your birth name."
This was true. Thorin and Bilbo had adopted him shortly after he had turned six. He'd been put up for adoption just after being born, since his biological parents knew they didn't want him before he'd even come into the world, and the first family that had adopted him had been allowed to name him. Unfortunately, they hadn't been the greatest family and had cursed him with the name Lindsay. Said family had also decided to start making and selling crystal meth when he was five, which was how he ended up in a new home with the name Fili Oakenshield, a more suitable title for 'their strong little prince,' as Bilbo called him. "So? It's still my name, and Thorin chose it! That's even stranger!"
"He was doing his sister honor. Yours is one of Dis' favorite names. She said if she ever had a blonde she would name him Fili, a brunette and she would name him K…" Bilbo cut off abruptly, eyeing Kili with huge eyes.
Fili, too, turned to the slender boy and could see the wheels turning in his head. His brows were set deep in confusion. Fili opened his mouth to ask if Kili was alright, but the brunette didn't need to be asked.
"Dis…" he whispered, shifting his gaze down to the smooth wood of the table surface, "that was my mother's name."
Bilbo gasped, and he looked ready to respond, but he was also interrupted by the boy.
"And Thorin! That's Mr. Oakenshield's first name?"
Bilbo shut his mouth and hesitated before nodding slowly, as if he wasn't sure that Kili would want the statement to be true or not.
If Kili had reminded Fili of a child before, it was nothing compared to now. His large, deep brown eyes became glassy with unshed tears, his chin trembling in the attempt to hold himself together. Fili resisted the urge to reach over and hug the boy, thinking he probably didn't know the boy well enough to do so.
Bilbo clearly didn't feel that way, since he was instantly at Kili's side, giving him a tight hug.
"Don't be upset," he murmured, "you might be simply jumping to conclusions. It might all be a mistake."
When Kili spoke, his composure broke and fat tears tracked down his fair cheeks. "How?" he gasped, burying his face in his hands. "His sister's name is Dis – that was my mother's name. His name is Thorin Oakenshield – I know that my Uncle's initials are T.O; they're written on the back of a picture I have of him, and Fili is apparently a name she liked, which sounds a hell of a lot like 'Kili.' How could this possibly be a mistake?" He finished, panting, having not stopped once for air during his small outburst. Bilbo looked unsure of what to say. Fili, though he wasn't sure why, felt a sudden burst of outrage.
Scrambling, the blonde hurriedly began gathering his things, stuffing them into his backpack, muttering under his breath.
"Fili?" Bilbo asked. "What on earth are you doing?"
Instead of answering, the blonde replied, "Is dad at home?"
"I-I-I'd imagine so."
That was the end of the conversation. Fili gave the elder a curt nod, avoided looking at the youngest altogether, afraid of the sadness he knew he would find, and marched right out the door, homeward-bound.
