Chapter Text
The trip from Ered Luin to the Shire was a relatively short one for the Princes of Durin's Folk. Kíli was excited to be out doing something other than providing guard on a trade caravan. He was also excited to see the land that had raised their mother’s best friend, Mistress Brynye Took. He could vaguely remember her from his youth, having been only thirteen when she left, but he remembered her cookies and the stories she told of rolling green hills and homes carved into hillsides and made out of wood instead of stone. He had thought the idea fascinating and was looking forward to seeing it firsthand.
On the other hand, Fíli was looking forward to not dealing with the Council of Lords once a week in place of his uncle. Though his mother was often regent when Thorin was absent from the mountain, more and more the lords were turning to him as he aged. Fíli the Golden, the Crown Prince. Mahal did he hate the attention they gave him. It was easier to deal with Balin or Thorin than the Council of Lords.
“Up there,” Kíli said breaking Fíli’s thoughts. His brother pointed to the glowing mark on a green door up the path they walked. The two brothers let themselves into the yard and stood in front of the door. Fíli knocked for them, only belatedly realizing that there was a bell beside the door, and shifted his footing. This Mister Baggins had better be a good burglar or their uncle was going to complain all the way to the mountain.
The door opened to a woman standing there. The very edges of her dark hair were visible from under her hair covering. Her eyes caught him, dragging him into those emerald orbs. He hadn’t seen that color on a person before, but they were beautiful. She wasn’t that much shorter than himself, a respectable dwarf sized woman despite the slight point to her ears, barely noticeable really. She had a muscular frame under the clothes she was wearing, and he would bet his mustache braids that she disliked that outfit. It was wrinkled but nearly new. She looked like his mother the time Balin had convinced her to wear a formal dress to an event after a year of wearing pants and a blouse.
From inside him, he felt a click and a growing warmth inside his chest. A hole in his heart filled, one he didn’t know he had.
Kíli nudged him in the gut and cleared his throat. Fíli shook himself out of the daydream and said, “Fíli.”
“And Kíli,” his brother echoed.
“At your service.” His bow was deep, and he brought his eyes back up to watch her. He wanted to know her name, to know everything he could.
“We’re looking for a Mister Boggins. Didn’t know he had a wife,” Kíli commented. Blast Kíli and his lack of a filter. Fíli stomped on his brother’s foot and received a glare in return. Internally, Fíli hoped she wasn’t a wife already.
“I believe you’re looking for my cousin Bilbo Baggins, Master Kíli,” she said, putting the stress on Baggins as she spoke. “The notion of my cousin being married is laughable, confirmed bachelor that one.” Thank the Lord and Lady, Fíli thought. “I am Freye Took at your service, Princes of Erebor.”
Fíli looked at his brother with a raised eyebrow. What would a hobbit woman know about dwarfish politics? He would have to ask later. She invited them in and instructed them where to put their things. She asked them to help Dwalin and Balin –good they weren’t the first ones here—with moving furniture.
“Of course. Thank you Mistress Took,” he said, his head bowing slightly. He held her gaze longer than proper, his blue eyes gazing into those emerald ones and his face quirked in a soft smile.
Beside him, Kíli let out a little huff and went to put his things down. Freye ducked her head and left them alone. Fíli joined his brother and put his things down neatly.
“Got a crush, brother?” he asked.
“Oh, shut up,” Fíli muttered. He turned back toward where the dark-haired woman had walked off.
“Fíli, we are going on a quest. I don’t think courting the cousin of our burglar would help at the moment,” Kíli said. “Especially a quest we might not come back from.”
“I said shut up Kíli.” Fíli left to find Dwalin and Balin instead of getting upset by his little brother.
Dinner went along pretty well once the rest of the Company, minus his uncle, had arrived. Dwalin was watching Freye as she moved about the house, but his eyes were more like that of his uncle when Kíli had done something and he was trying to figure out what. Fíli watched her as well, smiling at her throughout the night when he caught her gaze on him.
Then came the little show with the plates. He smiled as he bounced the plates and cups off his body and tossed them down to Kíli or into the kitchen to Bifur. He caught Freye watching him with an amused smile on her face and put a little more flare into his antics. Her cousin wasn’t appreciating it but Fíli didn’t care at the moment. All he wanted to see was more smiles coming from the beautiful woman.
Thorin’s arrival ruined his mood for a while. Thorin started off by insulting their burglar and calling him a grocer. He could see the frustration on Freye’s face when she passed by to get food for his uncle. She served it properly though and made no mention of Thorin’s words.
It was quick enough, the talk, even with the interruption of the hobbit throwing an apple at someone lurking outside. Fíli had been rather impressed with the hobbit’s aim and was slightly terrified of hobbits after learning that their aim was the reason for the lack of small creatures in the Shire. He also wanted to see what would happen if he put a throwing knife in the hobbit’s hand or gave him a chance at a bow. That led to him wondering about Freye with a weapon. Every time he looked at her though, all he could see were swords in her strong hands, or perhaps an axe. What would she be like with a weapon, he asked himself.
As it was, he was in the bath soaking in the hot water. There were two baths in the smial and his brother was using one of them at the moment. They had gone in some order of importance, Thorin going first followed by Balin and Dwalin. Everyone knew the reason Balin and Dwalin got to go next was their age and their dear position as advisor and guard to the king. Fíli and Kíli had gone next. Fíli had given Kíli first pick after Balin had come out of the bath. Freye had prepared the baths, working the plumbing that was different than what the dwarrows used. She had also found soaps and towels for them to use to spare their supplies.
He washed his hair and redid his braids. He could imagine strong hands weaving his braids, a soft laugh as he reached toward her to do the same. He could see her black tresses in his hand, likely soft and silky to the touch. He wondered if they curled or if they were straight. He wondered how long her hair was and what braids would look like in her hair. What would his braids look like?
Mahal’s Beard he was smitten already.
Glóin pounded on the door and told him that others wanted to bathe before bed.
“Just finishing my braids!” Fíli called. That was true. He was finishing his hair braids and would do his mustache braids when he got out. He climbed out and found the drain. He had several days of muck on his skin and the water had turned a light brown. Glóin, who had traveled in the Shire before near the borders, would know how to put fresh water in and he had heard Dwalin remarking that he would see to the water heat while Mistress Freye gathered blankets for the dwarrows.
His travel clothes were drying beside Thorin’s and Dwalin’s on a rack Freye had put in the room. His shirt was nearly dry, as were his other things, so he took them off the rack once he was dressed in other clothes and finished his mustache braids. He noticed a tear in his shirt and cursed. Probably when his brother jumped on him this morning, he mused.
He let Glóin in and dropped his clothes off in the room he would share with Kíli. The bed was just big enough for the two of them, and they were used to sharing a bed since childhood. It was a small blessing that they would not pass up either way. Kíli raised an eyebrow as his brother walked back toward the door with his torn shirt.
“I have a sewing kit,” Kíli offered.
“I’d prefer to save that for on the road,” Fíli answered.
“Right. You’re going to use that excuse.” Fíli answered his brother with several hand signals that would have had his mother boxing his ears.
Fíli spotted Freye as she headed from a store room toward the den where the other members of the Company were setting up shop with arms laden with blankets. He cleared his throat and she paused.
“Yes, Master Fíli?” she asked. Valar above, her eyes sparkled as she talked.
“Please, just Fíli,” he insisted. He never enjoyed being called Master or Prince, he was just Fíli. “I was hoping you might have some thread and a needle.” He showed her the tunic and the rip down the side. “After that lovely bath you drew for us,” --Oh Mahal, did he seriously just say that? -- “I noticed this tear in my tunic. I was hoping to fix it before we left. Don’t want to dip into the Company supplies just yet.” Yes, that was his explanation and he was sticking to it and nothing anyone else said would change his opinion.
“I can have it fixed for you before you leave in the morning,” Freye offered. She seamlessly handed the blankets in her arms to a passing Bifur who bowed his head and gave her a one-armed hand signal thanking her. She smiled as Bifur left and took the tunic from him. She inspected the tear with a critical eye. “I don’t have quite the right color of thread, but I can stitch it all the same.”
Fíli’s heart did a somersault and he said, “I would never ask-.”
“I’m offering,” she cut in. She was sincere in her offer, her eyes said it all. “Go rest. I’ll leave it just inside the door to your room when I’m done or give it to you in the morning. Just leave the door cracked so if I do finish it early I can drop it off.” Her smile warmed him.
“Then thank you.” He nervously scratched the back of his neck as he stepped back. He was like a nervous dwarfling all over again. He backed into Dwalin who laughed softly and sent him along to bed.
Bed didn’t help. His mind just replayed any conversation they had had that night or just the bits that he had heard her say. Her voice was golden to his ears.
Next to him, Kíli swore he could hear his brother thinking too loud and hit him over the head with a pillow before telling him to go to bed. Fíli wisely did as he was told.
The next morning was upon them too soon. The shirt was not inside the room, but when Fíli came out with his pack and weapons, he found Freye laying out an easy to eat on the go breakfast spread and his shirt was folded up on the countertop. She caught sight of him in the doorway and handed over his shirt. His eyes picked up the silver stitching and if it weren’t for the feel he would have sworn it was actual silver.
“My godfather once told me silver is meant to protect. I hope this gives you some bit of protect. The symbols are an archaic form of Hobbitish, our lost language. They are wards against danger,” she explained.
“Thank you. This is beautiful,” he said with fingers running over the design. He stowed it in his pack and accepted the food she offered. They were on their way shortly after.
When Bilbo ran after them, he hoped to see Freye alongside him but was also glad she was not. Fíli was happy to pick Bilbo up and help him onto a pony though. He also promised himself to watch out over the hobbit. It would do him no favors if he could have saved his One’s cousin on the trip. His One, was she really? Some core piece of him, rooted in the stone that Mahal had forged him from, rang out in truth.
“Oh blast, I forgot my handkerchiefs,” Bilbo grumbled.
“Not quite,” a voice called from ahead. Fíli caught the bundle his uncle tossed back to him and handed it to Bilbo. They were handkerchiefs, tied with twine and with the embroidered BB on the corner. Thorin explained, “Your cousin had a hunch. She instructed me to see those to you.”
“And what if I hadn’t come?” Bilbo questioned.
“If you hadn’t met us by Bree, I would have sent them back,” Thorin replied. “Keep up Master Burglar.” Fíli shook his head at his uncle, the way he said Master Burglar it was almost like teasing him. He would have to convince his uncle to lighten up if he wanted any chance at wooing the hobbit’s cousin in the future.