This is my reply to @guardianofrivendell‘s ask. Thank you so much and enjoy! 💙
Relationships: Fili x Reader
Rating: M (to be on the safe side)
You closed your eyes with a sigh, enjoying the warm, lingering caresses of the late afternoon sun on your face. The grass beneath you was as soft as a goose down mattress and the smell of blooming spring flowers filled the ear. The birds chirped lazily, hidden among the tree branches, and a busy bee buzzed nearby, feasting on the blue cornflowers. You loved days like these, peace, quiet, no chores to think of, just enjoying the beauty of the world around you in silence.
That was when you heard a horse neighing. You quickly sat up and opened your eyes. No, it wasn’t a horse – it was a chestnut pony, and it had a rider. And what a rider it was… Oh, my! A wild mane of golden hair, the braids in his hair and beard clasped with beads glittering in the sun, a small smile dancing on his lips as he gazed at you, making a small bow with his head. Oh, Valar! Just look at those eyes! Bright and blue like the cornflowers. One glance at you was enough for you to feel like a hungry bee, drawn towards that sweet goodness. Yes, those certainly were the eyes of a good man. But there was something else in that glance, a mysterious glint. Before you could decipher it, the rider jumped off his pony and led it towards you.
As he approached you, it became obvious that was a warrior, and a very good one, judging from the amount of impressive weapons on his back, at his belt and by his saddle. He certainly wasn’t one of those healthily rotund Hobbit farmers who lived nearby. His body was honed by endless hours of training and, most probably, battles – judging by that small cut that ran straight through one of his eyebrows and a tear or two in his fur-lined tunic, revealing a chainmail underneath. Those deliciously broad shoulders and the movements that made you think of a prowling panther told you the rest of the story: he came out victorious from this fight, whoever the enemy was. You have never seen a Dwarf warrior before, they weren’t a common sight in these parts, but he looked exactly like you imagined one should look like. I wonder if the legends are true and if they are really made of stone?
“Good afternoon!” he greeted you, stepping towards you, and you stifled a sigh at the sound of his voice. Oh, how wonderfully it would be to wake up to this voice murmuring sweet nothings in your ear, his hot breath fanning your delicate skin. Focus! You needed to focus! Behave! Answer him before he thinks you’re slow or something!
You stood up quickly, straightened your dress and said, “Good afternoon, Master Dwarf! What brings you here?”
You fought the urge to lift your hand to your hair and make sure your tresses are safely tucked away. It wouldn’t do if such a fine specimen of a Dwarf thought that all the daughters of Men have messy hairdos, but a part of you whispered: what if he thinks that you fancy him? A blush spilled on your cheeks. Drat! The last thing you wanted was to make him think you’re one of those easily impressionable young ladies who can’t stop giggling at the sight of a handsome man, be it Dwarf, Elf, Hobbit or one of the Men.
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