#FiKiWeek2021

[esparafuso]

Fiki Week Day 6 - Before the Battle

Other Days: Day 1 - Traveling to the Shire (+Bonus process video)

Day 2- After the Stone Giants

Day 3 - Staying with Beorn

Day 4 - Mirkwood Prison

Day 5 - Night time in Laketown

Day 7 - After the Five Armies

[gatheringfiki]

FiKi Week 2021: June 20 - 26

It’s that time again!

Want to write/draw/headcanon/edit/whatever your heart desires some Fili/Kili goodness?  So do we!  Looks like it’s time for FiKi Week!

Our theme this year is Lost Moments: times we didn’t see in the films.

Sun, 20 June:  Traveling to the Shire Mon, 21 June:  After the Stone Giants Tues, 22 June: Staying with Beorn Wed, 23 June:  Mirkwood Prison Thurs, 24 June:  Night time in Dale/Laketown/Thereabouts Fri, 25 June:  Before the Battle Sat, 26 June:  : After the Five Armies

Please tag all associated posts with #fikiweek2021 and everything will be reblogged here on @gatheringfiki!

There aren’t rules here, guys, save that this is FiKi only - respond to the prompt in whatever way you wish, and have fun!

[marigoldvance]

Staying with Beorn

[drabble under cut]

Carrock is an awesome feat of nature and technology. Tunnels illuminated by solar powered light strips branch off from the main entrance, spiral down and open into a vast grotto in the belly of the mountain that houses a pool of cold, cobalt blue water. The water is filtered through a contraption Beorn built himself – a sleek setup of pipes and tubes and canisters that disappear into the rock, as if the flowerstone formed around it and not the other way around.

Kíli isn’t sure how intricate the plumping actually is, but he knows it’s somehow connected to the irrigation unit in the main chamber, as well as in the designated domestic half of the cave system where Beorn converted a moderately sized doline into a bathing room with functioning showers and, more impressively, a circular, in-ground, tiled Roman bath. For drinking and cooking, Beorn accesses the filtered water through a small well in what Kíli considers the kitchen.

The water isn’t the only thing Beorn accomplished, however. Budding from the stem of each tunnel are dozens of rooms. Though most are too shallow to use, there are plenty that have been given a purpose, both in the domestic and the not-domestic half. Kíli’s jaw was sufficiently dropped last night when he and Fíli explored the not-domestic half with Beorn’s blessing (which amounted to a less severe set to Beorn’s eyebrows and a grunt).

The rooms in the non-domestic half are fitted with pink LEDs and filled with rows of hydroponic crops: assortments of fruits, vegetables and herbs – tomatoes, potatoes, leaf lettuce and peas; cucumber, cantaloupe, strawberries.

(           “Strawberries, Fee! It’s been ages!” Kíli squeals around a large, dribbly bite, eyes closing in bliss as the flavor explodes on his tongue.

Across from him, Bilbo mildly mentions, “You ate all my strawberries the night you pillaged my pantry.”

“Yes,” Kíli agrees, “But, dear Bilbo, these strawberries are sweet and juicy!”

“Harrumph.”

At the head of the table, Beorn pinks beneath his scruff, “I also. Have honey.” He speaks in his halting manner, quietly and to his hands that are laced in his lap.

Kíli perks up, peers around Fíli’s broad back at Beorn with an expression of childlike delight, “Honey?”

Beorn nods once and clears his throat, “I keep. Bees.” He scratches his cheek, “As well.”  

           “Here we go,” Fíli chuckles just for Kíli’s ears, face broadcasting such devotion and fondness that Kíli almost forgets about honey.

Before he asks Beorn, “Can I try some?” he grabs Fíli by the hair at his nape and yanks him in for a quick, smacking kiss, “Shut up.” and then gets down to business.)

Closer to the surface, one of the tunnels is gated, the rooms within converted into pens for a retinue of farm animals the likes of which Kíli was stunned ever existed on the planet. Straw is strewn and piled for bedding, hay feeders and troughs – drained and filled by an apparatus similar to that in the grotto, however not nearly as streamlined – are mounted between the pens. Goats, rabbits, sheep and chickens are free to roam about the space as they please.

           “We could stay.” Fíli says mildly, as if it’s a fleeting thought and not something that’s been weighing on his mind. Then he adds, teasing, “Beorn could do with some regular company.”

           “You mean friends?”

           “I mean verbal.”

Kíli snorts because it’s true. When their group stumbled out of the eagles into the dry, damning land surrounding Beorn’s mountain, Beorn and his subterranean oasis were a godsend. And then Beorn opened his mouth and what fell out of it sounded closer to the tongue of beasts than Adûnaic, consonants hawked like phlegm, though apparently, Adûnaic was what he was speaking. Beorn is definitely someone who could use a normal conversation now and then.

Unfortunately, “We can’t.” Kíli murmurs reluctantly, chin dipping to his chest.

He and Fíli are ensconced in an alcove midway up the wall of the main chamber, borrowed quilts and cushions arranged in a nest around them. Moonlight cascades through the oculus, the wheat below a sea of silver as it seems to absorb the light. Sprinklers spit and whir, the mist carried into the air by the ventilation fans and cooling the hot skin of Kíli’s face and limbs nicely.

Fíli hums in response to Kíli’s statement. Their recent hesitation toward Thorin’s leadership notwithstanding, Fíli’s as aware as Kíli of their obligation to follow him to the end.

           “Fee…?”

           “Yeah?”

Kíli bites his bottom lip, unsure how to phrase his question. He settles on, “The ORCS—”

           “I know,” Fíli leans forward to knead Kíli’s bicep, “Later, baby, okay? We’ve done enough worrying for two lifetimes.”

           “But how did they find—”

            “We’re safe here.” Fíli interrupts, adamant, and it’s not a lie.

What saved them was a bloody horseshoe up their collective arse; if it weren’t for the fact that Gandalf possesses precisely the sort of ancient magic necessary to summon the eagles – magic that neither goblins nor ORCS have, Kíli, along with everyone else, would be goblin shit by now. And Kíli’s thankful for the neverending supply of divine interventions that’ve delivered them from every tight spot they’ve landed in, but eventually, he fears, something’s got to give.

Fíli sighs, always able to hear the wheels turning in Kíli’s head as if they need oiling, “Come ‘ere.”

Abruptly, he shifts, temporarily displacing Kíli as he changes his position against the wall, spreads his legs and opens his arms. Having been leaned against Fíli’s shins, Kíli topples back into the cradle of Fíli’s body, nuzzles his face into Fíli’s throat and takes Fíli by the wrists, guiding Fíli’s to embrace him around the middle.

Fíli’s right, they haven’t had a chance to relax like this since Rivendell; to simply exist in each other’s presence. At least for the moment, they aren’t driven into the shadows by fear or frustration for a rough, reassuring fuck.

A week in Beorn’s mountain is all they’re allotted, Thorin itching to return to the stars as soon as he and Gandalf finish plotting their next move. Goblin Town wasn’t really on the itinerary and now they’re dreadfully turned around. The Journey is a lost cause, probably scrapped by the goblins for whatever goblins do with parts of a ship, and the eagles were a one-way trip, the vortexes impossible to open from this side.

Whatever Thorin and Gandalf intend to do, Kíli’s certain they’ll be ready at the end of the week. Kíli closes his eyes to listen to the soft rustle of the wheatstalks. Behind him, Fíli is a lullaby, the gentle rise and fall of Fíli’s chest, Fíli’s fingers, crawled under Kíli’s thin shirt, stroke Kíli’s stomach in a soothing caress.

Maybe, when their uncle’s quest is behind them, they can come back. Of course, that’s if the ORCS don’t kill them first.

“I’ll protect you,” He thinks he hears Fíli whisper, “Swear.”

Safe and content in his brother’s arms, Kíli drifts into a dreamless sleep.

AVAILABLE ON AO3 🚀

[alwaysfarawayeyes]

FiKiWeek 2021 – Day 6

Next story is up! We’re almost done, last story will be up tomorrow.

Day 6 = Lust Rated: E Tags: sexual content, angst, hurt/comfort, bottom!Fíli

You can find the story here.

Very short preview under the cut:

Kíli made an embarrassing noise and pressed his forehead to Fíli’s. “Mahal, I want you.” He sighed. “Then have me.”

[esparafuso]

FiKi Week Day 1 - Traveling to the Shire

Thank you @gatheringfiki for organizing this! I hope I manage to complete all days, excited to participate for the first time this year ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Other Days: Day 1 (+Bonus process video)

Day 2- After the Stone Giants

Day 3 - Staying with Beorn

Day 4 - Mirkwood Prison

Day 5 - Night time in Laketown

Day 6 - Before The Battle

Day 7 - After the Five Armies

[esparafuso]

FiKi Week Day 2 - After the Stone Giants

Other Days: 

Day 1 - Traveling to the Shire (+Bonus process video)

Day 3 - Staying with Beorn

Day 4 - Mirkwood Prison

Day 5 - Night time in Laketown

Day 6 - Before The Battle

Day 7 - After the Five Armies

[esparafuso]

FiKi Week Day 4 - Mirkwood Prison

(Thank you guys so much for the loving feedback so far omg ;u; I read them all! This one was difficult to draw because they stayed separated most of the time in Mirkwood *sniffles* I’m sorry I wish they were kept in the same cell)

Other Days: 

Day 1 - Traveling to the Shire (+Bonus process video)

Day 2- After the Stone Giants

Day 3 - Staying with Beorn

Day 5 - Night time in Laketown

Day 6 - Before The Battle

Day 7 - After the Five Armies

[esparafuso]

FiKi Week Day 5 - Night time in Laketown*

*Right, Tumblr sent me right away to horny jail so, please check the full post here.

Other Days:

Day 1 - Traveling to the Shire (+Bonus process video)

Day 2- After the Stone Giants

Day 3 - Staying with Beorn

Day 4 - Mirkwood Prison

Day 6 - Before The Battle

Day 7 - After the Five Armies

[esparafuso]

The Fiki Day 1 piece has a little bonus because I remembered/tried to record the process ≧(´▽｀)≦ , if anyone would be interested in seeing hehe

[marigoldvance]

Day One - Traveling to the Shire

[excerpt under cut]

The exterior of Bag End is in keeping with the other hill-homes in the area. Below, a low, wicker fence stretches into the slope of the hill on one side and into a spectacular grouping of hydrangea on the other, a plain, garden gate in the middle with a latch that Kíli undoes easily. He follows the gate inward, swivels left on the pathway and proceeds to climb the steps toward the door, painted a leafy green with a handsome, polished pewter knob. There's smoke rising from the chimney and a cozy glow in all the windows and Kíli thinks he can smell the fatty aroma of beer-battered fish cooking.

Once Fíli arrives at his side, Kíli raps his knuckles on the door.

Their host, the last message stated, is named Mr. Beg—Big—Boggins(?)and is supposedly going to fill the position of stealth expert in their company. A precursory search milled nothing on Mr. Boggins nor his presumed qualifications, but Kíli trusts his uncle's judgement.

AVAILABLE ON AO3 🚀

[marigoldvance]

Mirkwood Prison

GatheringFiKi - FiKiWeek2021 - Day Four

FíKí, M

“Well,” Fíli laments, “This is a laugh, innit?”

As if on cue, the barricade is initiated, the crackly hum of electricity indicating the forcefield is now active. The impression it makes is rather lackluster compared to, say, the foreboding roll and clang of a barred, metal door slamming behind them, like Kíli’s seen in his treasured reels. Either way, they’re trapped.

The elf guard who shoved them into their cell studies them for a moment from the other side of the barricade, face smooth and impassive, like someone watching lazy animals at the zoo. Fíli pffts, presses his thumb between his fore- and middle-fingers. He proceeds to pluck his front teeth with the tip of his sandwiched thumb – nail clicking against enamel – at the guard. A gesture of the utmost respect amongst Durinsfolk.

The elf guard’s features curdle into a sneer. They twirl on their heel, following the procession of guards who escorted the other members of Thorin’s company to their cells as they exit in a neat, single-file line. The elf guard pauses at threshold and punches a code into the panel in the wall beside the door. Instantly, with the sound of a camera shutter, a foggy effect begins to bleed across the barricade. Through the quickly shrinking window, Kíli sees the elf guard flip one final narrow-eyed look toward Fíli and Kíli, flashing a rude gesture of their own, then they exit. The door slips down behind them and locks with a snick.

“You pissed ‘em off.” Kíli remarks idly, folding his arms, leaning back on his heels, and pursing his lips in an impressed expression that he casts over his shoulder at his brother.

Fíli hums in acknowledgement as he takes a seat on one of the two cots. He sprawls, supported on his elbows, boots thunking when he spreads his legs, and he tips his face toward Kíli. A completely unapologetic look colors his features, a smirk toying at the edges of his mouth.

Kíli ponders for a moment whether or not to join Fíli on his cot or to take a seat on the other. The cots are opposite each other, secured to the walls and fitted in a flat layer of memory foam, even down the body and mounded at the head. Starched, white sheets are folded in a thin pile at the foot of each cot. Kíli isn’t sure if elves only expect dwarves in their prison cells because the amenities are at an agreeable enough height and length to suggest it.

Apart from the sleeping arrangements, there’s a stainless-steel toilet and sink in one corner, separated from the rest of the space by a curtain which drapes from the ceiling, its conduit, hooks, and rings hidden.

At least it’s not a bucket or a hole in the ground like some of the prison cells Kíli’s regretfully seen the inside of. There haven’t been many, mind, but doing what Kíli does for a living tends to invite trouble, no matter how upstanding a citizen of the UCF a sweeper tries to be.

Kíli stands in silence a few moments longer, chewing his lip and staring intently at the barricade. He can’t see or hear anything from the other side, but that doesn’t mean they’ve been left entirely to their own devices. The pinhole sized red light blinking from the upper right corner suggests they’re being monitored closely.

What a day.

CONTINUED ON AO3 🚀

[marigoldvance]

After the Stone Giants

GatheringFiKi - FiKiWeek2021 - Day Two

FíKí, M

Vorrocs-GT75139.

The planet is one of a family of celestial dwarfs in the Hithaeglir System. It’s dry, hot and polluted to hell, a barren wasteland of dust and chemical fallout. Thunder rolls through dense, brown cloud; blistering clashes that herald orange bursts of sheet lightning. No signs of life, just doom and gloom as far as the eye can see, which through the oily glaze of smog isn’t very far.

Though not completely toxic, the air packs a wallop; thick and bitter tasting, like breathing under a blanket drenched in gasoline. It’s harmful in instances of prolonged exposure, the astronics warned.

Fíli’s eyes and throat nettle because Kíli was right, the audio factory-set does sound like Siri’s psycho cousin. Or it could be that Fíli didn’t have the wherewithal to secure his gas mask before he took off.

At least Dori had the foresight to forcibly string it around his neck while he waited for the exit ramp to lower in excruciatingly slow increments. Now, his mask thumps against his chest as he runs, putting distance between himself and the Journey’s shadow.

Fíli skids to a stop when the burn becomes too much, pulls his on his mask and immediately begins to prod around the right temple for the button that initiates the tech. The pad of his index finger slides over a button no bigger than the diameter of a nailhead. He depresses it and his vision bleeds cyber-electric blue as the tech takes effect across the underside of the mask’s eyepieces. On his forearm, his DR beeps to signal it’s synced.

Not wasting time, Fíli swipes the screen of his DR, punches in a series of commands, then tips his head back, eyepieces trained skyward. It’s impossible to see clearly through the layers of smog and dust, but the tech homes in on anything mobile. For several seconds, Fíli holds his breath, negotiates with the Old Valar and the New, shifting focus from one piece of orbital debris to another until – please, please, please – the tech fixes on an incoming object the same shape and signature as a combat sloop. Mahal, I beg you, please—

Let it be Kíli.

CONTINUED ON AO3 🚀

[alwaysfarawayeyes]

FiKiWeek 2021 - Day 1

(I’m late, I know) I have just posted my first entry for @gatheringfiki’s FiKiWeek2021. I’ve written 7 stories - one for each day. Every day pertains to one of the seven sins and I had a lot of fun writing them all.  Day 1 = Gluttony. Rated: E Tags: Explicit sexual content, oral sex, durincest. You can find the story here. Short preview under the cut:

“I’m hungry.” He whispered against Fíli’s ear. The soft click of his teeth against the golden piercings in Fíli’s ear sent a shiver up his spine. “You’re always hungry.” Fíli breathed, tilting his head to give Kíli more room. Kíli’s tongue immediately moved from Fíli’s ear to his neck. “Not for food.” Kíli clarified.

Fíli snorted. “Alright, not only for food.” Kíli corrected himself.

[marigoldvance]

After the Stone Giants - pt.ii

GatheringFiKi - FiKiWeek2021 - Day Two (pt.II)

FíKí, M

Slowly, Fíli seeps back into consciousness, the sound of alternating beeps – one close, the other marginally father away – coaxing him from sleep little by little. Brain coming back online, Fíli registers four things in short order.

The first is that he’s on his back, the surface beneath him firm and supportive, moulded to the contours of his body. From chest to toes, he’s tucked tightly under a sheet of thin, coarse, stiff material that irritates the exposed skin of his torso, legs and feet.

The second is the smell. Dull and sterile; iodine, bleach, soap. His lids part sluggishly, vision swims, the room taking its sweet time coming into focus, and when it does, Fíli registers the third thing. Sleek-white, glossy plastic and chrome finishes, cutting-edge equipment fastened to the ceiling or bolted to the floor. While familiar with the medical bay, Fíli’s never been in it, the most he’s seen being through the glass viewing panel on which he raps his knuckles to get Óin’s attention at mealtimes.

The fourth thing Fíli registers is the pain.

CONTINUED ON AO3 🚀

[alwaysfarawayeyes]

FiKiWeek 2021 – Day 4

Next story is up! (I’m trying to catch up, but I’m still behind.)

Day 4 = Wrath Rated: M Tag: hurt/ no comfort 

You can find the story here. Short preview under the cut:

Fíli had always ignored the nasty insults hurled at him and other Dwarves by Humans and Elves alike. Besides the standard slander about Dwarves being greedy, another insult often heard was about their rage. While Fíli had observed excessive lust for battle and quick tempers among other Dwarves, he had not counted himself among them.

Until today.

[alwaysfarawayeyes]

FiKiWeek 2021 – Day 3

Next story is up!

Day 3 = Sloth Rated: E Tag: sexual content You can find it here.

Short preview under the cut:

“There is no way I will help with any of their ridiculous chores today.” Fíli whispered, peeking through the bushes in Beorn’s garden which he and his brother were currently hiding behind. “Why not?” Kíli asked. Fíli heard the grin in his voice.