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“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
His exasperation was reasonable, to be honest. Yesterday evening his Uncle Thorin had insisted that, as the heir, Fili had to be married. That wasn’t new – Thorin had been insisting on that for years, all of it falling on deaf ears. The ladies could be pretty, rich, smart or whatever his uncle presented him with - they didn’t wake Fili’s interest in any way.
And he was still young, surely he could wait until he found one that he actually wanted to produce heirs with?
Apparently not.
His uncle had insisted that, as Fili was unable to choose for himself, a bride would be found in the traditional way.
Thorin was smart, though - he had waited until after the meal to inform Fili of this decision.
After his drugged meal.
Yesterday had been the day just before Fili’s 100th birthday; spending it trussed up and drugged out of his mind had not been his idea of a good time.
So now here he was.
Mind just starting to clear enough to realize that the guards who put him here had left sometime ago, leaving him trapped in one of the deepest rooms in the mountain.
Deeper than the Dragon’s Lair.
Their folk had made a deal with one of the ‘friendlier’ dragons some generations ago, knowing that their brisk accumulation of gold would surely bring them into the sights of distinctly more dangerous dragons if they didn’t.
The beast had since grown plenty dangerous on his own - but their deal held. The dragon could live among their gold, keeping it as it’s own hoard, keeping watch, as long as it let the ruling family retrieve whatever they needed to keep the kingdom running well.
To ensure only the ‘correct’ family could access the gold, the future king and queen would be introduced on their wedding day, spending one night in the luxurious quarters below so that the dragon got used to their scent - and, superstitiously, to that of the offspring hopefully produced that night.
Load of dragon dung, that bit, Fili thought.
The other traditional way, if the heir proved unwilling, was for the dragon to choose an appropriate partner.
Dragons, after all, were greedy creatures, and especially well equipped to see that in others. Naturally, the dragon would only choose a partner that would be frugal and good-hearted, to ensure it would not have to part with too much of it’s gold and safely keep it’s status as treasurer.
Or, in short, Thorin would sent his favorite candidates down here, to hopefully make it past the dragon and into his current room, where the marriage would be consummated whether he wanted to or not.
Lovely.
He wasn’t technically locked in, but as an unwed heir the dragon was allowed to consider Fili part of his hoard - and as such would not let him leave until that changed; with, of course, the wedding night - where he would belong to someone else instead.
So far to freedom.
But Fili wasn’t a quitter, never had been, and when the opulently furnished room finally stopped spinning Fili carefully made his way out and up the stairs separating him from his freedom.
He saw the glow of the gold before he saw the actual treasure chamber, but it was blinding nonetheless. The stairs led up into the middle of the biggest hall Fili had ever seen. So wide that the walls were little more than imaginations and the ceiling so high that it was swallowed in darkness.
And it was filled, all the way through, with mountains and mountains of gold and gems and treasure of all kinds.
Fili could see the stone floor in a neat little cycle around the stairs, maybe two or three meters wide.
Beyond that - nothing but gold.
He couldn’t even see the exit.
Didn’t even know in which direction it was.
Fili had never been here before. The heir was always property of the dragon, and as such not allowed down here until it was time for his marriage, lest he become a prisoner for all of his youth.
Fili had known Erebor was rich, but this was ridiculous.
He waited with bated breath for a moment, stuck between awe at all the riches around and terror, knowing full well that he was on full display – nowhere he could truly hide.
But no dragon came.
Fili took his courage, and set off into the Hall of Gold.
The coins beneath his feet made an awful racket that Fili could not prevent. They slipped and slided, more than once throwing him off his feet and causing him to tumble down yet another mountain, landing in another unfamiliar valley, the treasures shifting and changing, never once in the same place.
They might be rich, but Fili wondered if anyone had any idea of how rich anymore. How did anyone even find anything down here?!
Hours later, roughed up from tumble after tumble, exhausted beyond belief and frustrated to tears, Fili had to admit defeat.
He hadn’t even seen the exit. Or anything that might look like it. He had no idea where he was in correlation to his new room anymore, hopelessly lost in the ever changing golden landscape – and he hadn’t even seen the dragon.
Not once.
Fili thought he knew why.
“You are supposed to introduce yourself to me, dragon, are you not?”
He spoke into empty air, seemingly nothing but gold to hear him.
The deep chuckle proved him right.
“You are supposed to introduce yourself to me, little prince. I am not your servant until the crown is on your golden head.”
A few coins shifted, but otherwise the hall was still. Fili breathed, in and out, some armor or another digging uncomfortably into his back. Why bother getting up? He had nowhere to go anyway.
“Fili, Son of Dis, Heir to the Throne of Erebor. And I’m not at your service because I have no intention of getting married.”
Another chuckle, rising into a loud laugh, shaking the golden walls and rearranging the landscape around him. Fili closed his eyes, feeling the golden coins rain down around him. “That’s what they all say. Until they get bored, and decide they would rather have someone of their own kind as company than me.”
Fili opened his eyes at that, a tiny hope blooming against his will. The dragon was enormous. It might have been small once, but now it towered above Fili, only halfway out of its golden swimming pool and yet already as big as the statues lining the great hall. It was slender, serpentine like, and Fili couldn’t see the wings though he knew the dragon had them.
The head alone was bigger than Fili’s entire body.
It could swallow him whole without trouble.
Fili gulped, desperately reminding himself that it wouldn’t harm him.
He had laughed when warriors talked about the realization that there were bigger things in the world, that tiny voice in the back of one’s mind swelling to a roar, reminding them that they are prey, not predator. Fili had laughed, for what could prey on Dwarves?
Dragons, apparently.
“But, in case you actually care: I am Kili, Treasure Master of Erebor, the only dragon ever smart enough to make a deal with other races, rather than just eating them. Now, do you need a hand back? You seem to have gotten lost.”
The dragon, Kili, chuckled again and Fili couldn’t decide if it was arrogance or playfulness he heard in that voice. Maybe both.
Carefully sitting up, never letting Kili out of his sight, Fili considered what little he knew - and what he knew he didn’t want.
He couldn’t escape physically, that had become perfectly clear in the last hours, but…
“You said they got bored. The heirs before. You didn’t force a mate on them?”
“FORCE A-!!!” The dragon reared back as if Fili had slapped him, the world shaking around Fili, ears ringing from the roar, heart beating a staccato as panic and fear instinctively coursed through his veins.
The world stilled.
Fili only realized he had closed his eyes when he opened them, and looked right into a giant, slitted eye, pinning Fili with its attention.
“You are mine to protect, little Prince, and I will not give you away to anyone you do not choose. Know this, I protect this hoard, I protect this mountain, and I protect the heir. From any threat.”
The head moved back, letting Fili breath again, still rattled.
The dragons presence was as magnificent as it was terrifying.
The words started to align, and the shock of their meeting was making way for the realization that his uncle had made a gross miscalculation.
Fili had been all but confined to his quarters all his life, lesson after lesson, later meeting after meeting, and his own quarters had always been the only place where he could be free, could be truly himself.
A wife would steal even that from him.
He would have food. He would be delivered any book or material good he desired. He would get his work send down to him (for of course they still expected him to work, impending unwilling marriage or not) but they would not be able to force him into endless meetings, endless kiss-ups, endless masks of trying to be the perfect heir.
They couldn’t force him into marriage.
And maybe some of his shock must have been clear on his face, for the dragon’s eyes seemed just a bit softer, the voice just a bit warmer:
“Relax, Fili, you are safe with me.”
And Fili laughed, full bellied as he never had before, freedom found in the unlikeliest of places.