An Even Fifteen (Fili x reader)

(24) Braids and Blushes

Fili led you to the council room that had become a gathering place for the Company since the battle. All of the dwarves except for Thorin were there as Fili held your clasped hands up in the air and simply beamed at the group. The dwarves cheered and congratulated Fili, thumping him on the back and telling you that it was about time he had told you of the courtship. You blushed at the attention, but couldn't keep the smile from your lips. When the noise had died down a little bit, Bombur fetched mugs of beer for all, and the dwarves commenced their good-natured teasing.

"So you could only get a girl by tricking her into courting, eh, Fili?" Bofur asked with a sly smirk.

"Of course not," Fili said, affronted, but blushing.

You squeezed his hand and smiled at him. "I would have accepted him even if I had known what all those things were."

"How charitable of you," Kili mocked, but his smile was full of joy.

Dwalin grunted, his eyes fixed on your hair. "That courting braid seems a mite shoddy, lad. I'd fix it up before telling Thorin about this matter."

His words were like an axe-blow, cutting off the conversation entirely, leaving behind stunted silence. You gulped. "Thorin does not know?" You asked, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

Fili sighed, twirling the bead at the end of his mustache. "Well, he..."

Dwalin rolled his eyes, but Balin spoke up first. "He did not know of any involvement before the battle, because of the dragon sickness. But after your injuries, he certainly noticed."

"Which I have not yet discussed with him," Fili said.

Your gut twisted. "He will not accept me."

"Of course he will," Fili reassured you. Then, quietly, so only you could hear, "He must."

The rest of the day passed in joyful celebration of your newfound love. Fili was quietly attentive, constantly reassuring you of his affection with minute touches: a brush of his hand against yours, his knee resting against yours under the table, his shoulder bumping yours as he reached across you to refill his mug of ale. By the end of the day he was tipsy, but by no means drunk. He laughed louder, and more often, than you had ever heard. You didn't drink much of the stuff, but you decided it was good that the alcohol offered him a chance to relax and laugh with his friends.

It also made him more affectionate. He did not get inappropriately handsy, but he did sit closer to you, and halfway through his third mug he took your hand in his and would not let go. Not that you wanted him to. You did not even try to get free. It made your heart glow to feel his calloused skin against your palm, to smooth your thumb over the tiny scars across his knuckles. Your mind was no longer on the conversation the dwarves held, but on what it might feel like to have Fili's hands elsewhere-- your cheeks, your waist, your...

You felt your cheeks grow hot as you tried to redirect your thoughts. Fili saw you duck your head and seemed to take it as his cue that the night was over for you. He stood and led you from the room, bidding the other dwarves a hearty goodnight. They sent bawdy calls after the two of you, and you tucked your head into Fili's shoulder as your blush deepened. He brought your clasped hands to his mouth and kissed your knuckles as you walked.

"I am so happy," he whispered into your hair.

You hummed in agreement before remembering the king. "But what about King Thorin?"

Fili sighed, his hand tightening on yours. "We shall deal with that trouble later. For now, I simply want to enjoy us."

You studied him. His blue eyes were glinting guardedly, as if he was not quite sure he could let loose the happiness he felt. His brow was smooth, his nose straight and regal, his beard well-kept. You remembered the feeling of his facial hair tickling your chin and your cheeks as you kissed... and hid your face in his shoulder again.

"What has you hiding down there, ghivashel?" He whispered conspiratorially, ignoring the glances of the dwarves that you passed. "Is there a frightful terror in the shadows?"

You snorted. "No, my fair prince," you said into the fabric of his tunic. "I do not want them to see me blushing," you whispered in answer.

"And why do you blush?" He said in hushed tones.

"I'd rather not say here," you muttered. "Too many people." Fili's stride faltered for a moment, and you looked up in surprise. He took up his walking, faster now, his expression different. It was a mixture of smugness and something almost mischievous. You kept up, smiling to yourself as he opened the door of your room gallantly, then shut it behind him with a subtle click.

The Rhosgobels hopped up to greet him, and he patted one or two of their heads before gesturing to the bed. "Sit, please."

Your heart stopped beating.

He sighed at the expression on your face. "I just want to fix your braid."

You huffed a nervous laugh at yourself before taking a seat. Bren hopped up onto the bed and shoved his wiggling nose into your face as Fili knelt behind you on the bed, undoing the bead and brushing out the braid that was nearly fallen out. "May I do a smaller braid this time?" He asked reverently as he combed his fingers through your locks. "I like seeing your hair down."

You nodded mutely. He parted your hair at the top of your scalp, then pushed aside most of the strands, concentrating his efforts on the section just above your left ear. "Now," he whispered, his breath tickling the top of your exposed ear, sending shivers down your neck, "what was making you blush so fiercely in the hallway?"

His sultry tone sent your thoughts spinning. "I-- uh," you stuttered, "It was, um."

"Yes?" Another gust of warm breath on your ear. You could hear the smile in his voice.

His smug tone brought back some of your sanity. "The comments the others made. And remembering the kissing we did earlier today."

"Only that?" He asked, quite obviously still smiling.

You rolled your eyes. "It was my first kiss. I have a right to blush about that."

His fingers stilled on the braid for a heartbeat before continuing. "I didn't know."

You did not reply until Fili had fixed the braid with the bead at the end. You turned around and put a hand on his cheek, your fingers tentatively exploring the texture of his beard. "I am glad yours was my first."

He smiled and leaned forward, so that his next words were no more than a breath upon your lips. "And I hope yours will be my last." The kiss that followed his words was more exploratory than those in the hall earlier, but no less gentle as he took his time getting to know your taste, and allowing you to grow familiar with his.

He broke the kiss softly, leaving you breathless and wanting more. More of what, you weren't sure, but the kiss had lit something in you that drove you forward again. Fili stopped you by putting a finger to your lips. "I should go," he said huskily. "I will see you in the morning, badgûna. We will speak to my uncle tomorrow. Until then, rest well." He pressed a kiss to your forehead before patting the nearest Rhosgobel on the head and slipping out of your room.

A/N: This one was a lot of fun to write! I hope you're enjoying the romance. If you liked this chapter, please give it a vote! And I always appreciate comments, if you feel like leaving them. Thank you for reading!
--RA

Khuzdul Translations:
ghivashel: "treasure of treasures"
badgûna: "dream-woman", closest Khuzdul word to refer to the idea of "my One"