Little Hobbit Imagines

Amber Ale (Fili)

"Now my boy, there's still hope yet. Thorin may still find a queen and sire an heir." Balin assured the lamenting blond prince. Fíli scoffed and raised a hand signaling the bartender for another pint, "Have you met my uncle? All the man does is brood all day and glare at Bilbo! He's solely focused on reclaiming our homeland and restoring it to its former glory," he sighed, "There won't be an heir in place to take the throne if something were to happen to him. At least not one that's not me."

The bartender dropped another round of pints in front of the pair on the unvarnished bar. Balin stared sadly into the fresh pint in his hand as he spoke, "I know you never asked to be next in line, but rest assured we all have faith that you would be a great king should ever the need arise."

Fíli stared into the amber liquid and sighed, "That's just it, everyone has faith in my ability to lead, but I can't see myself on the throne. That's where uncle belongs, not me."

"You must stop comparing yourself to your uncle. Fíli, you're your own person. You may not believe you are worthy enough to be king, but I do. Anyone who is in the same room with you for more than five minutes can see that you were born to lead." Balin gently nudged Fíli in the side with his pint in hand, "Even if you can't see it for yourself."

"I hope you're right."

"Well you don't get to be as old as I am by being wrong about the important things, lad." Balin said before gently tapping his mug against Fíli's.

"Mahal willing, we won't have to worry about you needing to take Thorin's place as king at all because our journey will have been a success." Balin added confidently.

"Mahal willing indeed." Fili murmured into his cup, his mustache beads bouncing against the sides.