Hi!
Once you feel up to it, could you please write a oneshot of Fílí meeting a hobbit girl on his way to the Bag End and falling helplessly in love with her?
I have always imagined that Fílí and Kílí had arrived to Hobbiton a whole day early and spent it walking around - that, given how lost their uncle always was, Dís had sent them on the road earlier than necessary to ensure that they arrived in time.
So when they arrive to Hobbiton, the brothers are left to explore the market - and that’s when the coup de foudre happens - Fílí sees a hobbit (with strawberry blonde hair, please, if you don’t want to do reader-insert) selling all kinds of flour and has very short conversation with her. To his utter disappointment and annoyance, Kílí is responsible enough to talk him out of buying the huge bag of flour.
And, to be honest, that’s the reason behind Kílí’s grin and Fílí’s smirk we see when Bilbo opens the door.
Thank you soo much!
Please, take your time and care!
🪻🌸🪻🌸🪻
‘Cuz’ of Death- Fili x F!Hobbit!Reader
This is so long in the making 😅 but yay, brain finally brained! Enjoy some Fili fluff 🥰
Warnings: one suggestive comment
Hobbiton’s rolling hills are green as ever as you struggle to pull the wheelbarrow along the path to the market. Your wares are your charge, of course, but that does not stop you in the slightest from wishing you had someone to share in your burdens. And your victories. Not that some great many victories are won in the illustrious world of flour salesmanship, but the thought still stood.
Thoughts. Such are yours for the remaining duration of the trip, flitting about your mind in fancy until you enter the bustle of tents being raised and tables being lain with all manner of honeys, meats, fishers' catches, freshly baked bread, and so many more colorful and tantalizing offerings of your great land. A smile fills your face at the sight. For some, they are overwhelming. For you? Your livelihood. Livelihood and the secret charm of possibility that you might meet someone you do not know, someone from some far reaches of the Shire. Or beyond.
Snorting at that particular notion, you heft bags of flour onto the table your neighbor was kind enough to set up for you, sorting them once all of them are up there for a moment of muscle rest. You hang your sign, a wooden piece carved for you by your father, and take up your helm of sale.
~
Sunlight has fallen such that it casts into your eyes; cursing your short form, you shade yourself with an arm as two shapes enter your line of vision. Tall shapes. Men? Dwarves? Dwarves, judging by their garb, which appears to be that of mountain folk. Heavy tunics, fur linings, heavy boots and beaded braids. They also are not so towering as the men you’d met on a trip to Bree once.
The blonde one's eyes slide between your wares and you, alternating until you break into a smile.
"Could I interest you in any of these fine flours, sirs?"
"Sirs," the black-haired one snickers, though completely without malice, only humor.
"What's this one?" Pushing his neighbor aside, Blonde points at a medium-sized sack.
“Buckwheat flour,” you answer with a smile, “Good way to make your cookies tender if you don’t use too much. That is, if you make cookies much. I’m not sure what you like.”
“I have been wanting to get into baking.”
“What are you doing?” Black Hair hisses, a whisper just loud enough for you to hear. “We’ve got the party!”
“Yes,” Blonde agrees jovially, glancing back to you, “It is prudent to bring a gift, isn’t it? What about a nice bag of-”
“We’ve got a while yet! I’m not carrying that around for an hour! Are you?”
“Well-”
“Come on, Brother.”
“Brother?” You burst out before you could stop yourself. The pair doesn't look so much alike- perhaps they each look like one parent.
“Oh, my apologies, madam,” Blonde whips around and gives a bow, spinning his hand as he folds, “Fili, at your service, alongside my little brother here.”
Giving your name, you accept Fili’s proffered hand and giggle as he presses a kiss to the back of yours.
"Kili," the little brother pushes in, offering his hand, too, "And we were just leaving."
"What about the buckwheat?" Fili turns from Kili back to you, leaning on your table. "I'm quite interested in the...tender cookies? What on earth does that mean? Does that make them firmer or less firm? Or more...chewy?"
"You don't bake." Kili again, this time with less urgency and a great deal more amusement.
Fili must have made some disastrous attempts, you think, unable to stop the amusement that begins creeping across your lips. You picture him hunched with a look of dramatized defeat over a pan of crumbled, blackened cookies with smoke spiraling off them.
"I could learn," the elder retorts in a surprisingly determined tone.
Something about it moves your heart, loosens it further, speeds it even. These dwarves are nothing like you expected- not in appearance, manner, or of course location there at your table traveling some humble Shire market.
"I could teach you," you tell him, running a hand through your hair.
"I'd like that," he replies, "We aren't here much longer, but this place is very beautiful. I think we'll be back."
Kili looks between you two, jiggling his eyebrows up and down as Fili suddenly kneels to the ground, rising again with a little pink flower pinched gingerly between his thumb and index finger.
"At least I will be for those baking lessons. Speaking of which..." He chuckles to himself. "A flower for a flour?"
After you accept the flower, Fili reaches for your sack of buckwheat flower yet again, only for Kili to knock his hand away, initiating a comical skirmish of slaps that finally cements in your eyes that these two are undoubtedly brothers. Your gaze bounces between each volley as you twirl your baby bloom, heart leaping at the feeling of it, at the imprint of Fili's mischievous smile and gleaming blue eyes upon the back of your brain.
"Ignore him," Kili finally says, breaking you from your flower-induced, pollen-dusted golden reverie, "He's looking for an entirely different set of goodies."
The confusion you feel at that last comment as you watch the younger dwarf physically drag his brother away from your flour assortment lasts all the way through the rest of the market, all your actual purchases, and even up to your trip to your cousin's house to deliver a loaf of bread your mother had made him.
The hearth is warm and the kitchen scented of the herbs he's preparing for supper and calming tea. He welcomes your steaming parcel of sourdough with open arms and puts a second fish and helping of vegetables on to roast while you chat about your day. Your unusual day.
A tale of your dwarf-filled day...interrupted by a dwarf. This one exactly what you've always pictured, even taller than the brothers and more imposing, complete with a long beard, tattoos, and an intimidating stare. He is quite blunt about the fact that he isn't familiar with you or Bilbo, but gracious as your cousin is he shoots you a look of sympathy and quickly slides you his other helping. His look quickly melts into frustration the more the dwarf goes on and takes from him and rearranges, sharing with you an exasperated glare that has you giggling.
"Dwarves," he shakes his head before opening the door to another, older one, "What is it with today and dwarves?"
"I don't know," you reply quietly, reaching up to gently caress Fili's flower, which you have tucked behind your ear.
The second dwarf, Balin, is surprised to see you there, but then, so are you to see him. He chuckles at that and asks you for direction, which you shyly give; when he asks about chairs, you lead him around the corner into Bag End's larger dining room, where the long table rests under a chandelier's cozy yellow light. Bilbo follows soon behind, peering skeptically at your little congregation with furrowed brows and muttered questions. The sound of the bell ringing yet again, however, distracts you from the hearty laughter of this new set of dwarf brothers. Tapping across Bag End's hardwood floor, you cross your cousin's home once more, slowly opening the great round door. Voices sound behind it, voices that increase in volume as Bag End opens wider to welcome them.
"I can't stop thinking about her. I tell you, Kee, she's going to be the death of me-"
"Ah!"
Perking up with a wide smile that quickly melts into more of a smirk and gets directed at his brother, there stands Kili before you.
“Well now, brother, look who it is!” Kili exclaims your name, still looking right at his elder sibling as he sticks a hand out your way. “Can you believe our good fortune?”
“No,” Fili answers with a smile, blue eyes never falling upon his brother from their gaze into yours, “I cannot.”
His eyes trace over from yours, catch sight of his flower still tucked up by your tresses, and he stumbles into your cousin’s home with parted, wordless lips. He stands so close to you you’d collide with a single step from either of you, finally darting his eyes away and surveying the warm light of Bag End.
“So this is the fabled hobbits’ home?”
“It is,” you agree.
“I love it,” he breathes, a glow of awe coloring his expression, “It suits you just like that flower. It’s cozy. Sweet. I can definitely foresee myself upon many a return visit here.”
“So are you Mister Boggins’s wife?” Kili interrupts, tone bordering on urgent.
“No,” you shake your head, “He’s my cousin. I’ve come to deliver him a loaf of bread, but what of travelers like yourselves? Why have you come to a party Bilbo was not even aware of hosting?”
Inching a wee bit closer, just a tad, Fili extends his hand just like before. Just like before you take it. Instead of pressing a kiss to it, though, this time he holds it fast, his grip strong and warm and sure. The hearth’s warmth feels much closer despite you standing at a door open to the night on the end farthest from it you could be.
“Could I interest you,” Fili asks, leaning so close as to almost whisper in your ear, “In an adventure?”
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