An Even Fifteen (Fili x reader)

(35) The Greatest Honor

What Dis and Tauriel claimed to be "walking you to you to your room" was actually more like following a rabbit through the forest. They wanted to take all sorts of detours, pausing at this portrait or that carving. Their behavior was extremely unusual, even suspicious. Especially for Tauriel, whose personality was so forcefully direct that you wondered why she was going along with Dis, especially with that smirk on her face.

They led you around and around until you were completely, hopelessly lost. Despite your extended time here, Erebor's halls were still an elaborate maze to you, though you were familiar with parts of it. Dis did not seem to have such troubles, though, and with your arm pulled through hers she pulled you along, chattering away about this or that piece of dwarf history.

You were only paying half-hearted attention to Dis's ramblings. Your mind had wandered off to the preparations of the Rhosgobels' new room, and to whether or not Fili's schedule might allow him to spend some time with you tonight. You doubted it, though. He had meetings all day, and would want nothing more than to collapse on his bed and sleep until dawn. You were having similar desires when Dis pulled you to a stop in front of an unassuming flight of stairs. The mountain closed around the stairway as it ascended so you could not see where it led, but by the way Dis and Tauriel looked at it, you assumed it was somewhere important.

The two women were quiet for too long. "All right, what is the meaning of all this?" You asked, tired enough that your composure was cracking. "You've led me in circles through these blasted halls, and we end up here? Why won't you just let me go back to my room?"

Dis was grinning in glee, her white teeth gleaming against her carefully coiffed black beard. Confused by her reaction even more, you looked to Tauriel, hoping your friend would at least have an answer. "Just take the stairs up," she said through a smile that looked as close as an elf would get to a gleeful grin.

You lifted a brow dubiously, but Dis snorted. "Just go. Trust us!" The dwarrowdam prodded you toward the stairs.

"All right," you said, "but if there's another dragon hiding at the top of these stairs, I shall hold you two personally responsible as I'm burned to a crisp."

Dis rolled her eyes, but Tauriel actually laughed, and you sent them both a forbearing grin before ascending the stairs.

It was darker than you expected, especially as the stairway became a tunnel. But there was a dim glow of orange light ahead, so you took your steps carefully until the light brushed your skin, casting a bronze tint on your blue dress.

As you reached the light, you paused. Who had done this? The stairs were lit not by blazing torches, but by the soft glow of candles. They lined the stairs, tucked against the tunnel walls with flowers scattered around: orange blossoms, and red and white roses. You bent to pick up a red one, noticing the thorns had been removed. Where had someone found all of these flowers at this time of year? The snow on the mountains had only begun to melt, so the roses were out of season. And the orange blossoms never grew in Greenwood, let alone in the lands around Erebor.

Your curiosity piqued, you held the rose loosely as you ascended the stairs, heart beating steadily, then faster, as you neared the end of the tunnel. A sturdy door, as all dwarven doors are, was propped open at the top of the stairs, inviting you in. You took one step over the threshold and into even more candlelight, then stood still in amazement.

It was something like a garden, but indoors. Tall trees stretched skyward only to brush against the glass panels that reflected the orange candlelight against the star-smattered sky beyond. Beneath the trees were various patches of vegetables and flowers, lining a path that wandered deeper into the greenery. You passed a rosebush as you followed the path, your way lit by candles set on the ground and carefully hung from tree limbs in glass bulbs. Your grip on the rose in your hand slackened as you rounded a bend and found Fili standing beneath an orange tree in full bloom. He was dressed in the finest clothing you had ever seen: a deep blue tunic with embroidery that looked remarkably similar to that which was on your own blue gown. His boots were new and polished to a sheen that might show you your reflection, if you bent down to study them. His beard was impeccably groomed and trimmed, but his mane of golden hair was in its familiar state of disarray, save for the carefully plaited braids at his temples and in his mustache.