Chapter Text
“Thorin, there’s a man sitting on the stairs.”
“He’s been there for ages.” Ori looks up from the envelopes he’s addressing. “I offered him tea, but I don’t think he understood me.”
"Is he bothering you?" Thorin doesn't look up from his computer screen. "Is he violent?" He picks up his coffee. "Take your jacket off your brother's head."
"Huh, wha-" Kili looks up just as Fili dumps his jacket over his little brother. "You're childish and immature and I hate you."
"Sackville-Bagginses been in yet?"
"We're betting around eleven." Nori leans back in his chair. "What do we think this week? Trying to get their neighbour evicted because of noise pollution?"
"Fifty pence on it being for unhygienic living standards." Ori pipes up, a pen clutched firmly between his teeth. "Rats! As big as your head!"
"He's a terrorist." Kili says as he slides his own fifty pence across the table. Kili hasn't exactly got the hang of placing bets on constituents yet. It's a good thing Thorin only lets them bet small amounts. (Fili's about 98% sure that Bilbo Baggins isn't a terrorist, and also 70% sure that you can't lose a house for being a terrorist.)
Thorin drags his gaze away from the computer screen. It's only half nine in the morning, but his eyes are scored into his head and Fili can count at least three new grey hairs since last week. "Brothel."
"Fifty pence!"
"He's still outside." Balin comes in with the post.
"Is he violent?" Thorin repeats.
"Could be. The lad's got one hell of a scar." He taps the side of his head.
“You should go talk to him.” Nori piles the coins neatly by the pen pot at the side of his computer (Kili paid entirely in coppers, as he does every week), before returning to his computer. “It’d look good in the papers. Local MP helps out mentalist hobo.”
“Nori!” Ori sounds scandalised.
“I don’t think he’s a hobo.” Balin says thoughtfully. “He’s rather neatly dressed. Thorin, ten o'clock."
“I can’t,” Thorin rises to his feet at Balin’s call. “I’ve got surgeries. Fili, do you want to…?”
“Why me?” Fili squawks.
“Either you or Nori.” His uncle pulls his jacket back on and does the button up. “Someone I’m paying to be here, anyway - sit down and get back to the envelopes, Kili.”
Fili looks hopefully at Nori.
“Has anyone lost a vulnerable adult?” Nori says, his one finger typing emphasising the words. “We have a gentleman here who seems confused.”
With a sigh, Fili grabs his coffee. “I fucking hate you, Nori.”
His coworker’s only response is to point to the code of conduct on the wall. No swearing or abusive behaviour is underlined in many different colours. No one ever pays any attention to it.
---
“Everything ok?” Fili debates sitting on the same step as the strange man, but then thinks the better of it. He takes the step above, resting his feet against the next. It’s cold out, and he’s glad for the warmth of his coffee.
The man isn’t responding, staring out into space. From the angle that Fili’s sitting at, he can just about see the scar that Balin talked about, petering off into his hairline. He can also see Balin’s point – he’s neatly dressed and his hands are clean and well cared for. It’s only the slightly unkempt hair and beard that make him look homeless.
“Are you ok?” Fili repeats, louder and slower.
He doesn’t get a response.
This is bloody ridiculous.
Sure, Fili gets paid, but normally to deal with papers and computers. Normally it’s Balin and Dwalin that deal with actual real life people, and they don’t tend to worry that they’ll say the wrong thing and break someone.
“What’re you looking at?” He scoots down to the same step as the stranger and tries to follow his eyes. All he sees is Greenleaf and the vague shadow of the Blue Mountains in the distance. Nothing that would hold his attention for the amount of time the strange man’s been distracted, anyway. “The mountains?” No response, again. “My uncle – he’s the MP here, this is his office you’re, uh… camping outside of – says that they’re full of caves. Like rabbit warrens, but for human sized rabbits.”
The man looks at him.
Fili unwraps a hand from his mug of coffee and gives him a wave. “I’m Fili. I work here.”
”No, you stupid great machine, don’t print that!”
“And that’s my brother, Kili. He also works here. Sort of. In a non-nepotistic way.”
”You’re a sodding great useless lump and I’m going to set fire to you and sell you for scrap metal will you please stop doing that!”
“He doesn’t like our printer.” Fili explains.
The stranger’s interest seems caught now that Fili’s talking about his brother. It’s an odd thing to be caught by, but then, Kili’s an odd person, he supposes.
"We've called it Smaug. Kili's idea. It's evil." He continues, spurred on by the interest. "Kili has an... overactive imagination, I guess. He's my baby brother." The man nods. "So... do you have siblings?"
The man shakes his head. Fili pauses momentarily, a little shocked at getting a response. The stranger shakes his head again, and then nods.
Well, maybe it wasn't response. Maybe he's got bees in his ears.
"You... do?" The man shakes his head. Bugger. "Sort... of?" This gets a vehement nod. So at least Fili's learnt something.
He breathes out slowly, watching his breath in the air. The other man is wrapped up warm. Fili left his jacket on the back of Kili's chair. "Come on, it's cold." He stands up and offers his hand to the stranger. "I'm freezing my balls off here. Let's have a cup of tea inside."
The man doesn't take his hand, but follows him inside readily enough.
Kili is lying on the floor in front of the printer.
"I've been kidnapped by the goblin king!" He moans, rolling onto one side and swooning melodramatically.
"Printer not working again?" Fili asks Ori, stepping over his little brother to get to the kettle.
"I can't get him off the floor." Ori says worriedly. "He's been there at least five minutes. Nori won't help me." The other man in the room cackles.
"The goblin king!" Kili repeats louder, thrashing on the floor. "The goblin king has taken me!"
"Do you remind him of the babe?"
"Not that sort of goblin king!" Kili sits up, pointing at him accusingly, before flopping back onto the wooden floor of the office.
"If you say so." Fili stares at their eclectic collection of teas and coffees scattered across their tiny kitchenette. "Uh..." He looks back at the stranger, who's staring at Kili with a look that might be confusion. "Kili, get off the floor, you're scaring our guest."
"Can't." As Kili says this, Smaug makes a terrible clatter. His little brother jumps to his feet, muttering swear words under his breath. "We need a sodding new printer, this one's a bloody dinosaur."
"If you want to sit down, sir," Ori sidesteps around a rampaging Kili to deal with the stranger. "Fili will bring you a cup of tea in a minute. Don't mind Kili. He's just... Kili."
"Praise the Lord, Erebor will have an Arkenstone after all!" Kili shouts.
Fili kicks him on his way to present the stranger with a cup of tea. "Behave yourself."
And, miracle of miracles, Kili settles down.
---
Little brothers have their uses.
Fili had set Kili on stranger duty whilst he did actual work, and it was definitely one of his better ideas. (At least, he thinks it is. There are rather strange noises coming from the table in the corner.)
He scans in a plea from one of the Gamgees about school places and forwards it onto Gloin. He's about to put the scanner away again when Thorin puts his head around the door. "Lunch, boys?"
"Yes please!" Kili shouts.
"Nori, Ori? Shall we order from Bombur, or did you two bring your own?"
"Dori made us-"
"Bombur's Bombur's Bombur's!" Nori shouts over the top of his little brother (they are a bit worryingly nepotistic, Fili realises, but he supposes that it can't be helped in a town such as Erebor.)
"Dori does always put green stuff in my sandwiches."
"No green stuff for Ori." Thorin notes, a smile playing about his lips like it does when Kili's particularly peculiar. "Anyone else?"
"Would you like something from Bombur's?" Kili asks their guest. The stranger grunts - the first sound that Fili's heard him make - and taps his chest with a fist. "Uh... You're going to have to be a bit clearer than that."
(He isn't.)
(Although he does try, and so does Kili, and he can see his little brother getting more and more frustrated, because Kili loves talking to people and communicating. And the stranger seems nice.)
"Hey." Fili looks up at the clock. "It's half twelve and no Sackville-Bagginses. Did we place bets?"
"They must have got held up." Nori grumbles, digging into his pocket.
"No paying back until the day's over." Balin says mildly, looking at Nori over his glasses. "You know the rules."
"Delivery coming in twenty minutes." Thorin reports. "Now get to work. There are far too many empty envelopes surrounding you, Kili."
"Yes Thorin." Kili ducks his head back down.
Twenty minutes passes quite quickly when you're entering survey data on the new Gandalf system. It's not one of Fili's favourite jobs, not when it's a survey that's been sent to the entirety of bloody Erebor. It's seriously making him consider never catching an Eagle Bus again.
There's a quiet tap on the door. "I come bearing lunch."
"Yes!" Ori ducks as the pile of envelopes Kili's holding go everywhere.
"Excellent." Thorin takes the box of food the cook offers. "That's brilliant, Bombur. How much do we-?"
Bombur walks straight past him. He won't even accept a cup of tea, normally. "Bifur, what are you doing here?"
And the stranger at the table grunts twice, in something that sounds almost like words.
"Well." Kili says after a pause. "That solves that problem."
---
“Can I have it yet?” Kili asks for the third time, still picking up envelopes on the floor. The rest of them have given up doing work for the time being, eating their own sandwiches. Fili has his feet up on Kili’s chair, half an eye on Bifur, who has another mug of tea.
“Have you picked up the envelopes?” Balin eyes him over his reading glasses.
“Almost.”
“No, Ori, don’t help him.”
When Kili’s envelopes had gone everywhere, they had gone everywhere. Under the desks, into the kitchen, lurking in the dark caverns in which Smaug inhabited… there had even been one in the biscuit tin. Fili doesn’t know how he does it.
Bifur grunts something and taps Kili on the shoulder. His little brother jerks upright and smacks his head on the table. “Ow - wha – oh. Thanks.” He grabs the envelope the other hands him. “There. That’s all. Can I have my sandwich now?”
Thorin, who’s just come back from a cigarette and is putting his phone away (probably a call from Dwalin, it normally is), grabs the last sandwich out the box and hands it to his nephew.
There’s a knock on the door. “Hello?”
Thorin swallows his mouthful of coffee. “We’re having a lunch break, I’ll start surgeries again in –”
“No, no.” The constituent enters the room, hands held high as though Thorin’s aiming a weapon at him. “No, I’m not here for that. I’m here for my cousin – Bifur?” Bifur grunts something that sounds like words – like he had when he’d spoken with Bombur – and the stranger laughs. He’s a smiley stranger, even when he’s not smiling, Fili decides. There’s a crinkle around his eyes, an air that – well, it actually reminds him of Kili, a little. “I’m terribly sorry he’s been so much trouble.”
“No trouble at all, laddie.” Balin pats Bifur’s shoulder carefully. “You go along with your cousin then.”
“It’s been lovely meeting you!” Ori pipes up, still methodically removing all the pieces of lettuce from his sandwich.
“Come on, Bifur.” The stranger holds open the door. “Back to the shop. And thanks, again.”
Most unusually for his uncle, Thorin hasn’t said a word. Fili and Kili look at each other, Kili’s eyes dancing as he bolts down his sandwich. “What?” Thorin demands, catching their looks.
“Nothing!” Kili sing-songs through his mouthful. “Something caught your eye, Uncle?”
There is a pause.
“You do realise you’ve got to sort all those envelopes back into street order, don’t you?”
---