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Ori was in the library of Erebor, where he usually spends most of his days lately. Getting his mastery as a scribe may be grinding him to the bone, but he is so close to getting to that goal before 100, he can not stop his pace now.
He wasn't the only one in the library by far, the vast temple was brimming with historians, students, common folk looking for tales, and the rogue politician looking for updated legislation. The Ereborian library was the place where no matter the status one was born into, people were accepted and respected.
Different colors danced in the halls of the building in a quasi-holy way. This place houses everyone that opens their arms for it and it's warm hugs them back like an old friend on a winter night.
Some days Ori felt as if he could write odes about the great library of Erebor. He still remembers how the library became his refuge when young and scared, when his clothes were thin from use and his smile nearly wiped away. The stories this sanctuarium archives embraced him and gave him hope.
It was in his temple he met his one. Fili caused a ruckus with that lil devil he's always accompanied by: Kíli. The rascals managed to sneak their way into Ori's heart, but somehow, in their sneaking around, they ended up in different chambers. Kíli cozied himself as a friend, while Fíli made a home in the space reserved in his soul.
Seated at a large stone table, polished until its veining could be seen, he had been transcribing books for most of the day. At this point Ori was nursing a headache from staring at pages for so long and if it weren't for his hand stretches, they would surely be killing him by now.
Poor Ori was so focused, he didn't even notice the familiar sound of boots walking up to him.
Fíli had been busy all day as well. Being a Crown Prince came with responsibilities and with responsibilities and practicing his masteries in politics and combat strategy. He would be lucky if he finished both by 110. In a way there was no rush as his uncle Thorin ruled and it didn't look like he would have to reign until he was at least 160. Fili had time to learn and master his skills.
Oftentimes his mind would drift and land on the future scribe. Ori knew so much about history because of the books he transcribed and that had helped Fíli multiple times with his own masteries. Truly, strategies and combat came naturally to him, even the logistics of feeding combatants made sense with some thinking; but history escaped him at times and everyday it seemed more and more obvious how important that subject was to understanding the politics of Arda.
Fíli felt so blessed to have Ori by his side to help him. He doubted the ginger realized how much his knowledge had aided him on the path to ruling their beloved mountain.
After the latest training lesson, Kíli went to take care of his battle ram and Fíli was now lying on the mat of the training room stretched as far as his body allowed him for the past hour or so. It had been the last lesson of the day and he was ready to become one with the floor. Fíli knew he couldn't sleep there - again- but he was so tempted to, so tempted to just close his eyes and drift off to sleep… He sighed.
“Why must I get up?” he whined to himself.
His brain bribed him by showing him an image of Ori's bright smile when he brings him herb infusions. He slowly got up, grateful that his muscles didn't scream today. That surely was a win, Dwalin hadn't ground him to the bone just yet. Fili marched towards one of the kitchenettes. There he made himself what he called rock water. The salty beverage made recovering after training easier, but it tasted like ocean water with hints of pebbles.
After drinking the overly salty drink, he heated water for the herbal infusion. Ori should still be in the library and an infusion of lavender and lemon should help him transition from working to relaxing. Maybe Fíli could bribe him to have a walk through the stone gardens. Ori seemed to like the precious materials, his eyes always tried to take in every spark the materials could spare.
Once the tea was done, Fíli put it in a flask and put it in a backpack. On his walk to the intellectual capital of dwarven society, there were many stairs downwards as their forefathers placed the library on the deepest entrails on the mountain to protect the knowledge from possible attackers. The chill of the megalithic protected the documents from dangers such as the sun, and the bats protect the scrolls from pests like moths and mice.
Once Fíli reached the heart of the mountain he could see the archive Ori was so fond of. At that moment he imagined how his future may be if he ever became ruler under the mountain with Ori by his side. Would the scribe also spend most of his days at the library or would he prefer a big office at the royal wing where he would be surrounded by a library big enough to rival those of the humans. Those thoughts embarrassed him truly, it felt too soon to be planning such a future. But he couldn’t help it, he knew they were going to share their lives in one way or another, no matter if romantically or platonically. May as well share them in the way that would make both the happiest.
Fíli walked the path edged in his heart towards the room where his lover liked to study. There he found Ori blank and playing with the tip of one of his braids. He couldn’t resist himself and sneaked towards his partner and planted a kiss on his cheek and startled the scribe.
“Good evening, Ibrizinlêkh,” the prince said.
“It can’t be evening already, afternoon maybe, but evening is excessive” Ori protested.
“Excessive is the time you spend barricaded in this building.” He joked and extracted the flask from his backpack and offered it to Ori. “However, you are in luck, mizimbaraz, and I brought you something to help you accept that fact. Hopefully some lavender and lemon infusion will help you with the cruelty of the passage of time” A laugh threatened to spill from him, he had to finish this act or he would start cackling and his meragel would lecture him.
“Thank you, hôfukel, I’m sure it will help.” Ori could see the bubbling laughter and shot him a smile of his own. He wouldn’t risk disturbing the other patrons of the temple, so he packed his things and drank that lovely drink on their way home.