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1.
The first time Fíli met Bard - his little sister’s first ever boyfriend - the older man was half naked. And so was his sister. Fantastic (note the sarcasm).
“Fíli!” Kíli squeaked from where she was squished between the solider and the couch, “I thought you said you were arriving tomorrow!”
“I managed to get away from Thorin a day early.” Fíli told her, though his voice was far away, as if he was trying to distance himself from what was in front of him. He didn’t know how long had past before his sister was shifting uncomfortable (Bard had buried his face into her shoulder and seemed to be shaking with laughter, goddamn him for it). Realising what she was trying to say (they’d always been unusually close for a brother and sister) Fíli stuttered out an apology and turned around so that the couple could put themselves back to rights.
Later that night, Fíli treated himself to many mixed drinks to try to forget what had happened, though in his drunken state he silently approved of how much Bard Girionson made his sister laugh.
2.
The second time they met, Bard was completely naked (though thankfully Kíli was not).
In hindsight, Fíli supposed it was his own fault, not thinking to knock on his sister’s bedroom door (but then he’d never needed to at home).
“Jesus fucking Christ!” he spluttered, slapping the hand that wasn’t groping the doorknob* over his eyes.
“So you do know how to swear.” Bard commented slyly. Half of him was covered by a towel, though by the way he was holding it suggested it was a quickly grabbed thing. There was also some water droplets running down the man’s broad shoulders.
Fíli wondered wether he was cursed to be constantly surrounded by men who were all more physically attractive than he was.
“Anything I can help you with mate?” The older man asked, a laughing grin on his face.
Recollecting himself, Fíli schooled his face into his business ‘I am the Heir of the company and you will listen to me’ frown and asked for his sister.
“Kee went around to Arwen and Eowyn’s with Tauriel…something about a meeting or something…”
“Right, thanks mate.” And with as much dignity as he could muster, Fíli turned and ran.
3.
Fíli doesn’t talk about the third time.
He hadn’t needed to know that his sister was sexually active…
4.
The fourth time was at the Durins’ ancient homestead Erebor (which was also the name of their dukedom, just to make things confusing). Bard had been invited to Erebor, officially so he could actually experience a family Christmas (their grandmother the Duchess and and their Cousin Surthi were shocked to discover that he was an orphan) but really it was so Uncle Thorin and Cousin Óin could measure him up to their non-existent noble matches for Kíli. Óin's approval would be given easily, but Kíli often accused Thorin of still thinking they lived in the 18th century, and in reality she was right.
Bard seemed to be managing well. He submitted to Grandmother’s fussing with a fair amount of grace (that being said, he was friends with Arwen Halfman), he managed to charm their grandfather the Duke (at least, he made Thráin smile) and now he was chatting to Dwalin comparing their lives in army barracks. Bard hadn’t made any mistake during dinner and managed not to respond to any of Thorin’s obvious barbs.
Fíli thought he’d avoided anymore embarrassment.
He was wrong.
Late at night - so late it was technically morning - Fíli woke up, his mouth feeling like it was full of cotton. Grunting, he reached for his glass of water. Just as he put it to his lips, he heard a low moan from the other side of the wall that was quickly followed by a high, feminine whimper.
“For fuck’s sake.” he groaned, burying his head under the pillows in an attempt to block the noises.
+1.
Fíli was panicking.
His sister had gone missing and none of her friends or their families could find her.
Where could she have gone that none of them knew about? He and Kíli had spent their nearly entire lives together, there was nothing he didn’t know about her…except where she would run.
Suddenly, his phone started buzzing in his back pocket. He fumbled to get it out.
“Kee?” He asked hopefully, desperately.
“Actually, this is Captain Charles Faulkner of the Welsh Guard? I’m Bard’s friend.” A disappointingly male voice replied, “I know where you’re sister is-”
“What did you do to her?” Fíli asked before he could stop himself.
“Nothing,” The other man snarled, “Anyway, I can give you my address and you can come and check on her if you want?”
Fíli agreed of course he did and not even half an hour later rolled up outside a small terrace of houses in Chelsea not even five miles from the Durins’ townhouse.
A tall, dark haired man answered the door. This must have been the Charles who was on the phone.
“They’re upstairs, first door on the right” He said instead of greeting the blonde, “But they’re asleep so don’t even think about waking them up.”
Any other time Fíli would have argued - this was his sister he needed to protect her from the world, especially from pushy invasive Welshmen - but something about the man’s tone had him stalling…it was probably his hereditary self-preservation instincts that tended to skip a generation or three.
Reaching the room, he slowly pushed the door open and saw…
His sister sound asleep in the Welshman’s arms. The pair were naked (again) and the rumpled sheets and discarded condom wrappers left no doubt as to what they’d been doing.
“He loves her,” Charles said quietly from behind Fíli, “And she loves him back. Can’t any of your family accept that?”
Fíli swallowed heavily, and then uttered the single horrible truth.
“No.”