Chapter Text
The first time Fili met Dwalin, he had run away from home after yet another argument with his mother and his uncle. It was nothing out of the ordinary. Well, the running away part was, of course, but not the arguing thing. Both adults claimed that, even if they were of age, neither he nor Kili should be allowed to join a quest to Erebor, should their uncle decide that the time for it had come. They always treated him as a child, the two of them, so he had left home in the middle of a night with a bag and three golden coins to prove how mature he was.
There were a few flaws in that logic, but he was sure he could make it work in the end.
And things hadn't been so bad, at first. He'd made it to a small town, two valleys away from were he lived, and he had found himself a nice inn to stay until he could get a job. That was when things had started going bad, of course. A group of idiots had noticed him, and decided that he looked too rich for his own good, so they had found an excuse to start a fight.
A fight which Fili would have won, if a bunch of guards had not arrived and arrested them all. It had made the young prince furious at first, until he had noticed that the guards' captain was far from ugly and, well, a cell wasn't the best of places to flirt, but it still was worth a try. So he had complimented him on his tattoos, because that was always a good start.
"Friend of mine made them," the other dwarf grunted. "Can give you his address, if ye want, laddie. But ye're probably 'bit young for that."
"I'll have you know I am in my eighties, so I am of age to do anything I wish with my body, thank you very much."
That made the older dwarf grin for a second, though he quickly hid it. Fili found it encouraging.
"What's yer name then, laddie?"
"I am Fili, son of Gili."
Technically, since his mother was a princess and thus of higher rank, he should have introduced himself as Fili son of Dis. Or since he was his uncle's heir, as Fili, son of Thorin. But then the other dwarf would have known who he was, and Fili had noticed that some people were a good deal more reluctant to have fun with him after they learned he was royalty.
"And I am Dwalin, son of Fundin. Ye're not from 'round here, kid. What brought you in that inn? Ye look far too fine and noble fer a place like that."
"I am taking my life in my own hands, master Dwalin. I have spent my entire existence in my uncle's shadow, and I felt it was time I proved I was as good as him, if not better."
"And ye're doing that by getting into a fight on yer first night. Smart. Yer uncle's gonna be mighty impressed, laddie."
Fili had just smiled, and leaned against the bars of his cell in what he hoped to be a seductive manner.
"Call me Fili, please. And I'm not doing any of this for my uncle, I'm doing this because I want to live my life, not his. So far, I'd say I'm doing rather well. He's far too proper to ever get in a fight, and he'd never try to chat up a dwarf he's just met."
Dwalin laughed. "Is that what ye're doing, then?"
"I'll stop if that's a problem, of course, but yes, that's what I'm doing."
"That's fine by me, laddie," the older dwarf assured him, walking closer until the only thing between them were the bars of the cell. "Not the best time fer ye to do that, but ye'll be free come morning, and so will I. I know a place or two were we can grab some breakfast, if ye want."
"There's nothing I'd like better than that."
The spent the rest of the night talking and laughing, and Fili found himself thinking that maybe he would really stay in this town. It was a nice enough place, as far as he could tell, and he liked Dwalin. Well, it was probably a bit early to say that of course, since they had known each other for no more than a couple hours, but Fili was sure that he could start liking him very fast, at least.
When dawn arrived, Dwalin let him out as he had promised, and they left together, still chatting and joking as if they had known each other their whole life.
So of course his uncle and mother had to arrive then, and ruin it all.
How had they known he was in this town, he didn't not know (Kili had told them) and neither did he know how they had guessed he'd been arrested (the innkeeper had told them) but they certainly looked awfully angry and worried. Good for them, Fili thought.
A part of the prince's brain registered then that Dwalin was tensing next to him, and had removed his hand from his shoulder, but he didn't do much with this information because his mother chose that moment to slap him.
"What were you thinking!" Dis snarled. "Going away like that! We were worried to death, Fili! All the things that could have happened to you!"
"I can fend for myself, mother! And I was managing it fairly well too, mister Dwalin here can attest to it!"
Dis took a step back at that, noticing the huge guard for the first time. She gasped, and turned quickly to Thorin, who look more angry than Fili had ever seen him. And that was something, really, since his uncle's only mood was murderous.
"It has been a while, mister Dwalin," Dis finally said, her voice uncertain. "I... I see the years have been... kind to you. Balin... Balin had told us you had found a position, but I did not expect..."
"Did you arrest my nephew?" Thorin growled at Dwalin, looking the very picture of offended pride. "Did you really dare to arrest a prince of Erebor?"
"Didn't know he was yers," Dwalin coldy answered. "Maker knows he doesn't look much like ye. More like Gili. Didn't make the link. Hadn't realized the boys'd be that old now."
Fili frowned at that. "Do you know each other?"
"Yes," Dwalin said just as Thorin answered "Not really", earning himself a scowl from his sister.
"Dwalin was... a family friend," Dis explained. "He's Balin's younger brother. It... has been many years since we saw him. We sort of lost track of him after Azanulbizar. A very sad state of affaire, but that happens, of course."
Thorin grunted something then, and in answer Dis stepped on his foot, but said nothing, only making a slight motion of her head toward Fili, as if to silently say that they were not supposed to talk of some things in front of him.
"This is all in the past," Dis declared. "And we can't change the past, can we? But what we can do is take you back home, and have a long and serious conversation with you lad."
"I am an adult, you know."
"An adult who will be in big trouble if he doesn't obey right now. You pony is waiting at the inn. We're going home."
Fili sighed, and shot a smile at Dwalin, who for the first time in the few hours they'd known each other didn't smile back.
"I hope we'll meet again," Fili said anyway, still hoping that being a prince hadn't ruined all his chances there.
"I doubt you'll ever see him again," Thorin said behind him. "I would not advise it. Dwalin certainly isn't fit for a prince of Erebor."
"Not sure I'd want a prince of Erebor," Dwalin replied dryly, glaring at Thorin. "Not sure anyone would want one. The line is cursed, they say. Good luck to anyone stupid enough to mingle with them. Was fun talking to ye, princeling, but the king's right. I doubt I'll ever see ye again. Good day."
The warrior bowed once to Fili then, and another time to Dis, but all Thorin received was a hard glare, and then Dwalin was gone. Which was strange, all things considered, but when Fili opened his mouth to ask what it all was about, his mother grabbed his arm and shook his head, and so he kept silent.
Later, when they had a few minutes without Thorin, Dis ordered him to stay away from Dwalin, stating that nothing good could come of it.
Fili obeyed.
He didn't see Dwalin again for almost two years, though he still thought of him sometimes, and of the jokes they had exchanged that night. It had felt like they had been meant to meet (though he didn't believe in True Love and such nonsense, that was more Kili's thing, really). He couldn't help from wanting to see the older dwarf again.
But when he finally did, it was in the Shire, in the home of a hobbit, and Dwalin acted like they had never met before.