Work Text:
Dori watched from behind the counter as a teenage boy, not more than 17 or 18 years old, paced outside the cafe. He would stop at the door, arm outstretched as if to open it, then drop his arm and start pacing again. The boy was wet, and even from where he was standing Dori could see shivers wracking the thin frame. He watched for another minute, and had just decided that the boy needed to come inside, out of the rain, rather than standing under the awning, when said boy stretched out his arm and actually opened the door, coming inside and standing, warily, near the counter. He had a satchel slung over one shoulder, and a coat to ward off the cold, but the boy was trembling so hard, Dori thought he might just vibrate right out the door again.
“Welcome to Blue Mountains Coffee House,” he said brightly, startling the young man who was staring at the menu board. “What can I get you?”
Dori could see the hesitation in the boys frame, and he could see the hand that was in his pocket clench tighter. He sighed. It always broke his heart to see people struggling like that. Maybe because he could understand.
“Ah, just... just a tea, thank you.” The boy pulled his hand out from his pocket, where it had clearly been counting coins, and tried to pay Dori but he waved it away.
“Why don’t you go and sit down over there,” he pointed in the direction of the second room, “at one of the large tables. There’s plenty of room for you to work, and they’re close to the fire. I’ll bring the tea over to you. Would you like something to eat?”
Even though Dori had seen him blatantly staring at the chocolate caramel slice, the boy shook his head.
“What about coffee? To get you through the study?” Again, the boys look was almost pleading. It was clear he actually wanted coffee, but again he shook his head. With a soft smile and a nod of his head, Dori let the boy wander towards the second room. ‘He’s too thin’ Dori thought as he started on a coffee. ‘Too thin by far. And so very, very sad.’
********
Fili sighed as he sat down at a large table close to the fire. He pulled off his coat, grateful to be out of the wet material, and hung it on the back of the chair to dry, before he opened his satchel, pulling out a few textbooks, notebooks, and pens and highlighters of various colours.
He rubbed his hands together, trying to warm them up, cursing silently to himself at having forgotten his gloves that morning. Not that they would have done him much good anyway. They were probably still damp from the day before. He’d left them hanging over the chair in his kitchen, but had left the heating in the apartment off, trying to save what little money he had.
He closed his eyes, trying to rid himself of the sight of his uncle’s anger filled blue eyes that always filled his mind’s eye at times like this, and shook his head. Then he opened his textbook to the chapter relating to the lecture from that morning, and set about doing his homework, and some extra study.
********
Fili started when a large mug filled with heavenly smelling coffee was placed on the table beside his elbow. He looked up to see the man from behind the counter standing next to him, another plate in his hand. He looked between the man and the coffee. “Sorry, but... I didn’t order this,” he said quietly, trying to ignore the hunger in his belly as well as the sweet smell of caffeine.
“I know, but you look like you could use it.” He placed down the other plate. It contained a fresh warm croissant, filled with ham and cheese. “This too.” He raised a hand to forestall any protest FIli might have made. “You’re cold and wet, and I’d bet the shop that you’re hungry too.”
Fili tried to protest again, but his stomach took that moment to remind him that he hadn’t eaten since lunchtime yesterday, and it was well into the afternoon now. He dropped his head, shame stealing across fair features in a pink blush. “I can’t afford this.”
The man gently clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it kid. Someone helped me start this business, I just pay it forward when I can.” With that he strolled back towards the counter, leaving Fili staring, open mouthed, at his retreating back. With no other option than to let it go to waste, and he wouldn’t let that happen, Fili took a small sip of the coffee, groaning at the wonderful caramel taste that sat just under the taste of the coffee. He didn’t know what the drink was, or how the man knew he’d like it but Fili was in heaven. With the coffee coupled with the croissant, Fili went back to work.
********
When it started to get dark, Fili packed his things, and made his way to the counter. There were a few people scattered around – a few couples, a businessman or two and half a dozen other students – but it was clear that closing time was drawing near. The man was still there, wiping down a few plates and mugs he was pulling from the dishwasher under the counter and Fili cleared his throat to get his attention.
When the man looked up, Fili almost lost his nerve. “I, ah, I want to pay. My bill.”
The man waved him away. “I told you not to worry. I’m just paying forward what I have been fortunate enough to receive.” He waved away Fili’s protests and pulled a brown paper bag from under the counter, sliding it across to the student. “Here. Take this too. It’s close to closing, and we won’t really sell anything else tonight.” Fili looked in the bag and couldn’t stifle a gasp. There were 3 more croissants, a couple of muffins, 2 sausage rolls, and a small box of something Fili couldn’t quite see.
“This is too much. I really can’t take all of this.” He put the bag back on the countertop.
“You can, and you will. It just comes home with me at the end of the day, and Lord knows I don’t need to keep eating it.” He patted his stomach with a smile on his face.
Fili reluctantly picked the bag back up and settled it in his satchel, careful not to squash the contents. “Thank you.” He held out his hand. “I’m Fili.”
“Nice to meet you Fili. I’m Dori.” The man, Dori¸ shook his hand firmly. “I hope to see you around more often Fili.”
He nodded his head. “I’ll definitely be back. For the coffee if nothing else. I think you made me heaven in a cup today.”
Dori laughed. “It was just a caramel latte, but we can always change the name.” He looked out the large windows facing the street, and his smile fell a little. “Well Fili, as nice as this chat is, it looks like it’s going to start raining again, and I don’t want you caught in it. You head off home, and I’ll see you soon.”
Fili pulled a wallet from his satchel and grabbed a handful of loose change, dropping it in the tips jar. “Thank you Dori. I’ll see you soon.” With that, he pulled his coat tighter around him, made sure his oyster card was in his hand before he put the wallet back in his satchel and made a run for it.
Dori lost sight of him in the afternoon crowd on the street almost instantly. He pulled his mobile from his pocket and sent a text to a friend. He had seen a student ID card for the University of Greenwich in the boys’ wallet that made him think. He had questions that needed to be answered, and he knew just the person to do it.
********
Fili was grateful for the crowded tube that evening. He was cold, and damp, having been caught in the downpour only meters from the tube station, and the heat from the many bodies pressed close was helping him warm up. He swore under his breath as he saw the rain when he changed from the tube to the overground but it couldn’t be helped. It was, after all, London in December. He pulled his coat collar closer to his neck, and prayed his scarf would be dry enough to wear tomorrow. He really needed to buy another umbrella as well, but rent was due the following week, so he needed to be extra careful with his money.
He practically ran the 10 minute walk from the station to his flat, slipping more than once on the stairs once he made it to the building. He let himself into the flat, turning on a small desk lamp near the door so he could see. The flat wasn’t nearly as cold as he thought it might have been, with the heating off all day, but he had no intention of freezing that night so he begrudgingly turned it on, if only for a few hours. He made his way to the kitchen, flicking the switch and letting light flood the small space. He ran his hand over the scarf and gloves on the back of a chair, sighing in defeat when he realised they were still damp. He dropped his satchel on the scarred, worn table, slid his coat off and draped it on the back of another chair before grabbing the scarf and gloves and depositing them on top of the radiator in the kitchen.
He flicked the kettle on and started to make himself a cup of coffee but when he opened the bottle of milk, he broke. The milk had gone off; he could smell the sourness as soon as the lid was off. Tipping it down the drain Fili willed himself not to cry but, as he turned and threw the now empty bottle in the recycling, he looked at his flat and his legs buckled. He slid to the floor, tears streaming down his face, as he pulled his knees to his chest and sobbed.
His tiny, run down, one bedroom flat was depressing. His kitchen/living area was all one room, with a small bedroom hardly big enough for a single bed and a chest of drawers, and a bathroom that barely had enough room for him to walk between the toilet, sink and bath. The hot water was temperamental at best, non-existent at worst, his heating was the same and expensive to boot. The only up side was its proximity to school. He could walk to university, and did unless he was absolutely desperate. He worked 2 jobs and studied full time, never went out, or bought things he didn’t need, and still he could barely pay rent, let alone buy food and pay for school.
That night, alone in his apartment, seeing the brown paper bag full of food given to him by a kind stranger, Fili cried out all his anger, resentment, hopelessness and depressive feelings into his knees. And when he rose, hours later, and made his way into a lukewarm shower after having put the pastries in the fridge and turning off the heating, he knew he’d hit his lowest point.
********
The spring term had started, and Fili found himself once again seated at the large table near the fire at Blue Mountains Coffee House. He had notes, and paper spread all over the table, his notebook lying in front of him. He was trying to get his notes in order to be able to write his assignment that was due the following week. He had done all the research, his notes highlighted in various colours relating to the different arguments he was going to make.
‘This would be so much easier with a laptop,’ Fili thought to himself, and not for the first time. He cursed him uncle for the 100th time that week. And even though it had been months since the fight, months since Thorin had thrown him out on his arse with a duffle bag of clothes and a few hundred pounds, his heart still ached at any passing thought of his uncle or his previous life.
He smiled when Dori set another caramel latte and a piece of chocolate caramel slice beside him. He had become somewhat of a regular at the cafe, hauling his notes there whenever he had the time to spare. And if Dori knew he did it to save money – using the fire to keep himself warm when he couldn’t afford heat, having a croissant or a slice of cake as his only meal in the day, coming in for a hot cup of tea when he couldn’t afford groceries that week – he never said anything; only giving Fili a bag of pastries every second or third visit, which Fili always took with a strained, but genuine smile, a few pounds in the tips jar, and plans on how to make it stretch for the week in his mind.
Dori walked away with a smile on his face and he pulled his mobile from his apron pocket. He hit the first number on his speed dial, not even waiting for the person who answered to say hello. “He’s here,” was all he said before he ended the call, and walked behind the counter, smiling at his next customer.
********
Fili looked up when someone sat down opposite him, his mouth falling open at the sight. Sitting across from him, his bulk sprawled across the booth seat, was Dwalin. His uncle. Cousin. Uncle’s cousin? Some distant relation anyway.
“Wha..? What are you doing here?” Fili finally managed to splutter out, watching as Dwalin’s lips twitched in amusement around the rim of his coffee mug.
“I’ve come to get you.”
“Get me?”
“Take you home. To your place or mine, I don’t care which. Preferably mine, but you’re a Durin so I doubt your stubbornness will fail you this time. Like it didn’t last time.”
“Thorin was out of line last time. He has no right to forbid me from studying, and what he did..” Fili’s breath hitched.
“What he did was cruel and uncalled for.” Dwalin set the mug on the saucer, and leaned forward. “Why didn’t you call me or Balin? We would have helped you kid.”
Fili buried his face in his hands and shrugged, shoulders hitching with suppressed sobs. 6 months after the event, and it still killed him to think of it. Suddenly the weight of everything just collapsed on top of him, and Fili crossed his arms on the table and buried his face in them, heart breaking sobs muffled by his hoodie covered arms. Dwalin reached out and gently carded his fingers through Fili’s golden curls. He didn’t try to comfort with meaningless words, didn’t try to pretend it wasn’t happening. He just let Fili cry, let him get rid of all the pent up feelings that had been buried for too long.
After a few minutes Fili’s sobs stopped, and he wiped wet, bloodshot eyes on his sleeve before looking up at the older man. “How did you know I was here?”
“Dori called. He and Balin have been friends for years and he thought the recognised you the first time you came in here. After a little bit of digging, and a few discrete photos sent between phones, it was decided I’d come and talk to you. No-one knew where you were Fili. Bilbo’s just about out of his mind with worry. All Thorin would tell anyone at first was that you’d packed up and left, but you know Bilbo... Eventually he wrangled the truth from your uncle and to say he wasn’t happy was an understatement. I think Thorin slept on the couch for a month.” Dwalin let out a hearty laugh at the memories of a very rumpled and disgruntled Thorin that ran through his mind.
Fili ran a hand through his hair and watched as Dwalin drank the rest of his coffee. “Well kid? Are you going to pack your shit up so we can get moving?”
Sighing, Fili did what he was told, carefully putting away sheets of paper, pens, notebooks and highlighters. Finally done he stood up, shrugging into his coat. He didn’t miss the unimpressed look Dwain had when he saw the state of the coat, but he couldn’t afford a new one.
“Think you’ve killed enough trees with all that paper lad?” Dwalin asked as he stood up, settling a dark brown leather jacket over his massive shoulders.
Fili shrugged. “Can’t afford a laptop, so I use the library’s computers to write up my assignments. But I need to have it practically written before I do because you can only use the computers for 2 hours at a time.”
“You can’t...” Dwalin trailed off. He was going to murder his cousin. He hadn’t failed to notice the lack of scarf or gloves either.
********
Scratch that. Dwalin was going to torture Thorin, for weeks, leave him bloody and with broken bones, and then he was going to murder him.
Dwalin looked around the cold, cramped space that was Fili’s flat and his heart warred over whether to be pissed at Thorin or heartbroken for Fili. “Ok kid, decision made. Pack your shit you’re coming with me.”
Fili looked up in alarm. “No, Dwalin, really, I’m fine. And I’ve just paid the rent for the month.”
Dwalin looked up from checking out the empty interior of Fili’s fridge. There was half a chocolate muffin, and 2 pieces of ham, plus enough milk for a cup of tea in Fili’s fridge. That was it. “So, we’ll use that as your month’s notice. But you’re still moving in with me. Let’s go.”
Fili stubbornly crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. “No. I’m doing fine on my own Dwalin. And I don’t have time to argue with you over this. I need to go to work in an hour.”
“No. You’re going to call your boss and tell them you quit, effective immediately, and then you’re going to pack your stuff, and come with me.” Dwalin met his glare head on.
“Which boss would you like me to call?”
“Which..?” Dwalin was at a loss for words. Working more than one job and Fili still couldn’t afford heat. What the hell was going on? Dwalin sat down heavily at the table while Fili stormed off, slamming the bedroom door closed like he was 15 all over again, and ran a hand over his eyes. Fili was working at least 2 jobs and still not surviving. Not really. When Balin had told him what Dori had said, about how thin Fili was, how he couldn’t afford coffee, how thin his clothing was and how he was regularly seen without gloves or a scarf, Dwalin had thought he’d been exaggerating. Now, having seen Fili himself, he though Dori might have been underplaying it.
Sighing, he pulled his phone from his pocket and dialled an all too familiar number. “I’ve found him.”
********
Fili was startled when he heard the front door open, and a soft voice talking with Dwalin’s low tone. He assumed it was Balin.
He assumed wrong.
The gasp he heard when the bedroom door swung open was too high for it to be his older cousin. Instead, he looked up into wide, tear filled green eyes and Fili felt his eyes fill with answering tears.
“Oh my boy, my poor boy,” Bilbo murmured as he raced to the bed, pulling Fili into a loving embrace. And for the second time that day, Fili broke down.
********
A few hours later saw him unpacking his things in the spare bedroom in Dwalin’s flat. The landlord had been kind enough to give Fili back two weeks rent, and promised that the deposit would be refunded back into his account in a few days, once Bilbo told him a heartbreaking, wonderfully lie filled story. Both he and Dwalin had helped him pack his measly belongings into a few bags and boxes, and had delivered them, and him, to Dwalin’s place. Fili sat heavily on the bed, looking around. The room was at least half the size of Fili’s old flat, and it was warm, with a comfortable double bed, warm blankets, heating, and reliable hot water.
He lay back on the bed, wondering at how only a few hours could change his life when a soft knock on the door broke his thoughts. He made an affirmative noise and the door opened, Bilbo walking in and sitting next to him on the bed.
“I have to tell him Fili. He’s been so worried about you. I really think he thought you would come back, and when he realised you weren’t, when he realised you’d left your mobile, and we had no idea where you were or how to contact you... He went out of his mind. He doesn’t sleep, locks himself away in the study for all hours, barely speaks to anyone – including me – I... I understand if you don’t want any contact with him, but I have to let him know you’re alright. I won’t tell him where you are if you don’t want me to but–”
“It’s ok Bilbo. You can tell him. I’m not sure I want to see him yet, but you can tell him where I am.” Fili leaned into his uncle, putting his head on his lap like he used to when he was a little boy. Bilbo ran a hand through his hair, telling him stories about what had happened in the last 6 months. Stories from the restaurant he owned and ran, horror stories of the kitchen and customers, the new chef who had just started but was amazing, the previous chef who had nearly burned the place down, and stories of home. Of his family.
And slowly, with the familiar, loving feeling of fingers running through his hair, and Bilbo’s soft voice in his ear, Fili went to sleep, loved, warm, and happier than he had been in months.