Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dragon fire. Screams. Always the endless screams.

Sigrid’s eyes flew open. The visions of burning buildings faded, but her heart continued to thunder in her chest. Sweat covered her skin. Even though an autumn breeze fluttered through the open window, her hair and nightdress clung to her in a sticky mess. There was a low glow coming from the fireplace, but otherwise her room was covered in quiet darkness. No flames. No screaming. Careful not to disturb the small figure tucked under the covers, Sigrid carefully slid out from under the blankets. The room was nearly as big as the entirety of their old home. The walls and floor were made of heavy stone. Much warmer and sturdier than the waterlogged wood house she’d been born in.

Walking past the dying embers in the hearth, Sigrid approached the white curtains that were gently swaying. The breeze was cool against her overheated skin, but it didn’t hold the biting cold that winter would soon bring. From her window, she could easily see over the partially ruined wall of the city. It was hard to believe autumn was already coming to an end. The previous year had gone by so quickly, she hardly had time to recognize they were approaching the anniversary of it all. Of when their lives had been changed forever.

The anniversary of every image that plagued her nightmares.

So much had changed. Overnight, Sigrid was no longer a child of a bargeman but had become the eldest daughter of the Lord of Dale. Sigrid wasn’t even sure how it happened. If she were being honest, she wasn’t sure her father knew either. It turned out killing a firedrake made you a leader and in their part of the world, the race of men had needed one. Desperately. So desperately, the people were eager to follow the ancestor of the previous Lord of Dale without hesitation.

The year that followed moved quickly. For months, everyone lived in tents scattering the rocky remains, but buildings were eventually repaired. Market stalls began to appear. More people arrived. Traders. Hunters. Farmers. Children laughed in the streets. The smell of fresh bread began to waft amongst the stone in the early hours of the morning. Guards marched on patrol. Instead of campfires lighting cobblestone paths at night, candlelight from open windows flickered across the ground. Although much work still needed done, Dale was reborn.

And she was its Lady.

“Sigrid?”

The small voice came from the bed. Turning her gaze from the star speckled sky and the enormous black silhouette of the mountain against it, Sigrid caught Tilda raising her head sleepily.

“Shh,” Sigrid hushed her softly. She crossed the room quickly, laying overtop the blankets to brush Tilda’s hair from her face. It used to be necessary for them to share a bed just for the sake of warmth. In their new home, it was merely a habit her sister could not seem to shake. Although she always went to bed alone, Sigrid often woke to find her younger sister tucked in close to her. “Go back to sleep.”

Tilda obeyed. Already closing her eyes, she clutched the raggedy doll that had survived their escape from Laketown tightly to her chest and tucked herself into her sister’s side. Sigrid moved her fingers gently though her hair, caressing the soft strands. Just as she thought her sister had drifted off, she mumbled against Sigrid’s nightdress.

“I dreamed of it again. The dragon.”

Her throat constricted. Swallowing thickly, Sigrid continued the soft stroking on her sister’s hair hoping her fingers weren’t shaking. “Me too.”

Tilda remained silent and Sigrid was grateful. She didn’t want to talk about the dragon or the orcs. Not the fire or the battle or the clanging of weapons that she’d never be able to erase from her mind. It made it worse knowing the same images and sounds were buried in Tilda’s mind as well. In a child’s mind. And there was nothing Sigrid could do to erase them.

She’d confessed her bad dreams to her father once. After waking from a particularly bad one-one where she was too slow and an armored orc was too fast-she’d found him in his study.

“They will pass with time.” He had told her solemnly. “It may not seem like it now, but good days are coming again. When they do, they will chase away the nightmares.”

Sigrid wasn’t sure if she believed him. Surely, he suffered from memories of flames? Of her mother? Did he expect good time to simply brush those away as well?

She didn’t mention her nightmares to him again.

Tilda’s breathing evened out, but Sigrid continued her slow ministrations. Dawn was only a few hours away, maybe two, and it was unlikely she’d fall back asleep. She settled into the soft pillows and prayed if she did drift back to unconsciousness, she would not dream.

***

“Are you alright, my lady?”

Sigrid jumped slightly at the question. The market around her was bustling with activity. Men and dwarves alike were crowding the streets and the sounds of children squealing with laughter filled the air. The autumn sun was high in the sky and Sigrid blinked against its light as she looked to her newly appointed handmaiden, Amabel.

“Yes, quite alright. Why do you ask?”

Sigrid was supposed to be showing the young woman around the city of Dale. It had only been a few days since her father decided it was time Sigrid had a handmaiden. Apparently, ladies of her status were meant to have such things. Personally, she found it to be bit of a waste. She was quite capable of braiding her own hair and dressing herself, but he had been adamant. He wasn’t the only one with a new role to play and so Sigrid had reluctantly agreed.

Amabel had appeared the next morning.

“You’ve been quiet for a while. That’s all.”

Sigrid sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“I could make you a special brew tonight, if you’d like. My mother used to make it for me and my siblings when she couldn’t get us to sleep at night.”

“That would be nice,” she smiled lightly. She doubted a drink would chase the terrors from her mind, but she wasn’t going to ruin the woman’s kindness. “Now, allow me to finish showing you around. One of the best bakers in the city is around the corner and further down from that, the orphanage. My sister and I try to make it there several times a week to check in.”

It usually took Sigrid ages to cross the city, especially when the market had new wares, and that day was no exception. Old women grasped her hands and children tugged on her skirts to offer her flowers. The men didn’t stop her. They only bowed their heads respectfully. In Laketown, she had been mainly ignored. In Dale, she was a symbol of their prosperity. Proof of could arise from the ashes of dragon fire.

“The city adores you,” Amabel commented some time later, as they turned onto a much less busy line of buildings. “You must be very good to them.”

“I’m not anything special,” Sigrid argued lightly. “They like having a figure to look up to. That’s all.”

“I heavily disagree with that statement.”

The two women turned. Instantly, Sigrid groaned and rolled her eyes while Amabel sunk into a curtsy. The youngest Prince of Erebor was approaching them swiftly, the reigns of his pony held tight in one of his hands as it followed behind him. He was dressed simply, as usual, with his bow slung across his back. It had only been a couple weeks since Sigrid had seen him in the square of the city, but her annoyance towards him hadn’t wavered.

“What are you doing here?”

“Ouch,” Kili grinned. “That’s not a very nice tone. People might start to think you don’t like me, Lady of Dale.”

“They’d be correct in that assumption.”

His grin widened, as though she’d offered him a compliment. Acting as though he hadn’t heard her, Kili nodded towards the women by her side. “Who’s your friend?”

“Amabel, your highness. My lady’s handmaiden.”

Sigrid gently shoved the young women as she bowed her head respectfully. “Don’t do that. You’ll only add to his big head.”

“Big head,” Kili scoffed. “Your lady is only jealous because the children in this city like me better than her. Tell me, have you found her to be as bitter as I have?”

“The Prince of Erebor, not the heir to the throne by the way in case you were wondering, is quite mistaken,” she said assured Amabel. Her handmaiden appeared to be struggling against a grin. “He does like to imagine things. Come on. There’s still much to see.”

“If I recall, I don’t think I imagined those children in the square abandoning your storytelling for mine.” The young prince’s smile was wicked as he and his pony caught up with them easily. “Turns out they find giant spiders pretty entertaining.” In a mocked hushed voice, he continued speaking to Amabel specifically. “She’s been mad ever since.”

“Where’s Tauriel?” Sigrid demanded a little heatedly. Amabel had let out a short laugh. “Have you annoyed her too? Or has she perhaps realized she’s much too good for you?”

“Oh, she’s always known she’s too good for me,” Kili assured her. “She and Fili left a few hours ago to go hunting. I had to distract Thorin so he could get away. I’m going to try and catch up with them.”

A strange knot appeared in Sigrid’s stomach, but she remained silent. Unlike his brother, she had not seen the heir to the throne of Erebor for several months. Not since the sky blazed with a heated summer’s sun.

“The inside of the mountain is chaos at the moment,” Kili continued. “Preparations for the celebration have been going on for weeks. I think Fili was going to jump into one of the furnaces if he didn’t get out soon. He didn’t stop to see you this morning?”

Sigrid only shook her head.

“Strange. I figured he would have after being gone so long.”

“I didn’t even realize he had come back,” Sigrid replied a little more curtly than she meant to. “When did he return?”

“A few nights ago. Thorin’s kept him busy ever since he walked through the gates.”

The knot in her stomach twisted and Sigrid felt an overwhelming amount of hurt. A silly thing to feel. A stupid thing to feel. The heir to the throne under the mountain didn’t owe her anything, as she owed nothing to him.

How could she have expected him to greet her upon his return, when he hadn’t even bothered to say goodbye?

“Tell me how you distracted your poor uncle,” she asked after a few beats of silence. She was eager to pull the conversation away from Fili. “I’m already pitying him.”

“Oh, it wasn’t that bad. One of the tapestries in the Hall of Kings just happened to catch fire.” Kili sighed heavily. “Nasty business.”

Sigrid nearly snorted. “Tilda will enjoy that one when I tell her. You know, she’s very excited about next week’s celebrations. Probably the most excited person in Dale.”

“She should be. Both of our kingdoms have much to celebrate.”

Endless things to celebrate. A year since surviving dragon fire and an army of orcs. A year of rebuilding. Ruling. Living. A year of sleepless nights.

“Well, between us I think she’s most excited to wear her new dress,” Sigrid replied. “You’ll have to make sure you compliment her on it.”

“I will make doing so my utmost priority.”

They were nearing the eastern gate. Further down the perimeter wall, there was still a gaping hole where a troll had clambered through. Kili pulled himself up onto the back of his pony, before nodding to both women.

“I’ll see you under the mountain, if not beforehand. Try not to bore the children in town in my absence, my lady.”

Had she been holding something, Sigrid would have thrown it at him.

***

Sigrid sat upright in bed. A scream caught in her throat. It took her a moment to take in surroundings. To realize she was not holding a wooden door closed tightly as an orc swung its jagged sword towards her, but safe in the dark of her bedroom. Her breath was too loud in the empty space. With a trembling hand, she wiped stray pieces of hair from her damp forehead.

Amabel’s brew of mint and white flowers hadn’t worked.

Careful not to wake Tilda, she slipped from under the covers. Grabbing her dressing gown from her wardrobe, she slipped it on before silently leaving the room. She kept her steps as soft as possible. She had no desire to wake anyone. It was bad enough she couldn’t get a decent night’s rest. Sigrid didn’t want to be the reason anyone else’s was disrupted.

The guards didn’t say anything as she quietly stepped out the front door. It wasn’t the first night she needed fresh air and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. She was sure it was improper to be outside in nothing but her nightdress and dressing gown, but she never ventured outside of the garden walls. Besides, the hour was late. It wasn’t as though there was anyone to see her.

Sigrid settled on the stone steps leading to their house. They were cool from the night air and felt refreshing on her sweaty skin.

Was this how it was going to be from now on? Sleepless nights? Horrific images clouding her mind whenever she closed her eyes? Sigrid couldn’t rule like that. She couldn’t spend her days convincing the people of Dale that the worst was behind them when she screamed into her pillow every night. She needed to be brave. Do her duty as the Lady of Dale with no false pretentions.

Her father and Bain didn’t seem to be bothered by what they had endured and Tilda couldn’t be blamed for having bad dreams. She was just a child, after all. Sigrid doubted the dwarves were plagued by nightmares like she was. The idea was laughable.

She tightened her skirt around her legs as the breeze grew sharp. Distantly, she could hear laughter. Drunken yells from the tavern. She was just thinking of going inside before she worried the guards too much, when another sound reached her ears. Horses on the stone street and the boisterous laughter from two brothers. A softer, female voice accompanied them.

Pulling her dressing gown tight around herself, Sigrid padded across their garden barefoot just as a horse passed by their front gate.

“Good evening, Tauriel.”

If the elf was surprised to see Sigrid there, she didn’t show it. Kili’s wife was dressed for travelling. Leathers in placed of the elvish dresses Sigrid had spotted her in occasionally. She hadn’t worn the green uniform of the Greenwood elves since the battle.

Since her banishment.

“Sigrid,” she replied pleasantly, halting her horse. A large buck was slung across the back. “Whatever are you doing out here at this hour?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Kili countered as his pony approached. “Delaying our return to our uncle for as long as possible.”

She smiled, tightening her dressing gown for a second time as the third pony approached. Sigrid felt her smile falter. It had been at least three months since she’d seen Fili. He too was dressed casually. Leathers in place of expensive cloth. Two swords were crossed on his back. Braids were twisted into his golden hair. He was watching her with a still face, giving no indication of what was going through his mind.

“Hello, Fili.”

“Sigrid.”

“It’s good to see you home.” She knew there was a bite to her words. The others must have heard it as well, because from the corner of her eye she caught Tauriel ushering her horse forward. Kili did the same and in the matter of a few short moments, she and Fili were as alone as they could be. She didn’t know what she expected from him. An explanation, maybe. Some sort of apology that signified that they were actually friends, as she had once believed.

Fili broke their locked eyes, glancing to the retreating figures of his brother and sister in marriage. His chest heaved as he let out a long breath. “I know I didn’t tell you I was leaving. I’m sorry.”

She lightly shook her head, leaning against the stone gate to their garden. “I could ignore the leaving. Kili told me the morning after you left your uncle sent you away, so I understand. But I’ve just found out you’ve been back for several days-.”

“I’ve been busy. Thorin’s had me in meeting after meeting-.”

“It’s just odd,” she finished lamely. “We used to see each other nearly every other day and then we go months with nothing and now…”

More silence between them. The knot that appeared in her stomach twisted from hurt to anger as he continued to just look at her. Sigrid had half a mind to go back inside and leave him there in the moonlight, if he wasn’t going to say anything. When he finally spoke it was in a low, gruff voice.

“What are you doing out here?”

She stiffened against the stone and sniffed. “It’s hardly any of your business.”

“You’re right.” Fili’s voice was deep; harsher than she heard it directed to her before. “It’s not my business. Go inside, Sigrid.”

Her throat burned. She looked away from him, blinking furiously as she pushed away from the stone. “Did I offend you? The day before you left? Is that what this is about? I said something I shouldn’t have or-.”

“No,” he interrupted her with a sharp jerk of his head. The moonlight caught the beads in his beard. “No, you haven’t done anything. Just please-please-go back inside.”

Sigrid obeyed, not looking behind her once.

***

Fili scraped the sharpening stone along his knife. Despite the heated temperature outside the fire in front of him was roaring. It didn’t matter that it was summer. There was always a cool draft inside the mountain walls.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight, son.”

He didn’t look up to his mother. She was seated in a cushioned chair, her fingers working swiftly over a bit of needlework. It’d only been a month since she, and the rest of their kin, had come to Erebor and it already felt as though he and Kili had not been separated from her. They frequently spent their evenings together, discussing coming and goings from under the mountain.

Fili only shrugged in response.

“Kili mentioned you were with Lord Bard today. Helping repair their perimeter wall?”

He nodded.

“I never thought my two boys would be so friendly with men.” She kept her eyes on the needlework. “I also never thought I’d come back to my home to find my youngest married to an elf, of all foul creatures, but here we are.”

Fili snorted. “I would not be sitting here if it weren’t for that elf, as you are well aware Mother.”

Her sharp eyes flickered to his for half a second. “Oh, you know very well I thank Mahal everyday for her. I only meant I didn’t expect it, is all. How could I?”

She wasn’t the only one who was surprised at Tauriel’s occupancy in the mountain. In fact, Fili distinctly remembered some heads of the great families being absolutely livid when they realized Thorin had offered the banished elf sanctuary. It wasn’t until the stories of her great heroism in the battle spread that she began to be accepted.

It also likely helped that Kili was prone to attacking anyone who even dared to utter curses under their breath when she passed.

“I think it’s good of you to keep up friendly relations with Dale. With Azog still out there somewhere, your uncle will need allies.”

She spoke the truth. Azog hadn’t been seen since he nearly killed Fili on the top of Ravenhill. Thorin had been anxiously awaiting to see when the giant orc would play his next hand and been friendly, or rather tolerable of Bard, in the meantime. He couldn’t risk political trouble on his doorstep if an orc attack was in the making.

“Speaking of friendly relations with Dale…” Fili swallowed thickly. He’d been waiting for an opportunity to breach the subject with his mother, but hadn’t found a proper opening. “I was wondering if-well, has there ever been a dwarf that’s courted a daughter from men?”

He kept his eyes low on his knife, hoping he looked casual. Relaxed. His mother’s fingers had stopped their swift work and he could feel her eyes, the same eyes that had caught every wrong doing in his childhood burning into him.

“I’m sure it’s happened once or twice, but nothing comes to mind. Why do you ask?”

He shrugged for a second time, still refusing to raise his head. “Just curious.”

The air in the room shifted. The fire was suddenly much too warm. His mother moved, leaving her chair to settle next to him in front of the hearth. Fili felt his face burn, but he kept a steady hand as he continued working his sharpening stone.

“I’ve heard talk that Lord Bard has a very pretty eldest daughter.”

His hand slipped. The knife cut along his fingers, and he hissed a curse, dropping the stone as a streak of blood appeared.

“Had you been here for dinner tonight, you would have heard Thorin speak about her. Apparently, there’s been offers for her hand. He said Lord Bard is practically drowning in them but doesn’t want to trouble her yet with them.” She laid a hand on his knee, squeezing gently. “The Lord of Dale didn’t happen to share the same news with you today, did he?”

Fili couldn’t speak. No words would come to mind. Wiping his blood-stained hand on his pants, he remained silent. His mother leaned closer, her hand squeezing tighter as she spoke softly, but firmly.

“I think, if a young dwarf prince was wanting to court a young lady he would need to think seriously about the consequences. That her life would be a fraction of his. That his children-his heirs-should she be strong enough to carry them, would be half-breeds. Loved by their family, but isolated from our society. Ask yourself, would she want to live under rock and stone? Away from the sky and all things green?” There was another tight squeeze from her hand. “Would the lady be happy marrying a dwarf prince, or would she be better off marrying a distant lord?”

He looked at the blood dripping from hand. Watched it fall to the floor. Tried to focus on the drops of red instead of envisioning the light brown hair caught in the sun. A pale neck stretched back in open laughter. A smile, so soft and bewitching he never had trouble finding it in the crowds of Dale.

He knew it was wrong. Thorin would never allow it. Not when he already had one nephew hopelessly in love with a she-elf. But a small shred of him had held out hope that his mother would have thought differently. Would have given sound reason on why he should pursue such companionship, not avoid it.

But she spoke the truth and as she did, he felt the final shred of hope flicker out inside of him.

“I think I might leave for a while.” The blood on his hand stopped dripping. “There's reports of orc packs in the north. I’m sure Thorin will give me leave to take care of it.”

His mother nodded, before her lips softly to his temple. It almost felt like an apology. “That’s probably a good idea.”

Chapter Text

“We tracked the orcs around the southern border of Mirkwood, far outside of our own borders.” The man speaking paused only a moment to take large swig of ale, before continuing. “We passed more than one farm that had played victim to them.”

From her spot in the doorway, Sigrid remained motionless. Her father was sitting with the group of men, four of them all wearing travelling leathers and bearing large swords, with his own cup of ale grasped loosely in his hand. Out of the four men, there was one that stood out as being in charge. Although he was dressed the same as the others, his companions looked to him to speak first. Stood slightly behind him. Sigrid suspected wherever they were from, he was someone of importance.  Bain was by her father’s side. Listening. Learning. Tilda wasn’t permitted to take part in such meetings, but Sigrid knew there was a good chance the child was lurking in the hallway somewhere

“I’ve already sent word to the dwarves,” her father replied. “I think it’s important King Thorin hears what you have to say as well. Please eat while we wait. Drink.”

“Thank you, my lord,” their leader replied. He looked to Sigrid, bowing his head slightly. Strands of dark hair fell into his eyes. “And to you, my lady, for your hospitality.”

She said nothing but nodded her head. Her father rose, crossing the room to stand before her as the men settled into seats around the wooden table. When her father spoke, it was low. Just for her ears. He grasped her shoulder, turning her away from the men.

“Tomorrow, you’re to encourage the people not to leave the city gates alone.”

“But the wall, it’s not finished-.”

“I’ll see to finishing the wall.” His grip on her tightened in his seriousness. “I need you to speak to the people. Do your duty and help keep them safe.”

She nodded. It was the same tone he’d used in the past. Times when he’d known he’d be gone on the water longer than normal and she was expected to keep her siblings fed and warm. Safe. This situation was hardly any different. “Of course, Da.”

His hand rose, almost as if he meant to cup her cheek like he used to when she was a child, when a guard entered announcing Thorin’s arrival. Sigrid automatically sunk into a low curtsy at the arrival of the dwarven king. Her father, brother, and the four other men showed their respect as well as other dwarves filed in. The bad-tempered bald one she’d met a year prior, as well as his white-haired brother, then several others she assumed were part of Thorin’s guard. She was just noting it was odd that the king hadn’t required either of his nephews to be in attendance when his blonde-haired heir walked in last.  

She should have known.

From across the room, his eyes found her immediately. He still had the same two swords slung across his back. As before, he gave no evidence as to what thoughts were running through his mind and Sigrid was pleased to discover her anger towards him had not wavered. If he wanted to be rude and short with her for mysterious reasons, then let him. She wasn’t going to beg for his friendship.

Setting her jaw, she grasped her hands tightly in front her and turned her attention to the table of men as they started to talk.

***

It turned out the strange men were from lands west of Mirkwood, at the base of the Misty Mountains. Their lord, having heard reports of pillaged farms, sent his eldest son and three others to investigate which led on a multi-week chase around the southern border of the forest, then straight north. The son’s name was Thaddeus and, as Sigrid had suspected, was the one leading the others. A large map had been splayed on the table and by candlelight, they marked where they’d seen destruction and the path they followed.

“There’s a farming village burned to ashes just a three-day ride from here,” Thaddeus exclaimed, jabbing a finger on the parchment. Sigrid rose to her toes, straining to see it properly from her spot in the doorway. Fili, face still as stone, caught her eye and with a short jerk of his head, motioned to the empty space next to him. She made sure to glower deeply, before quietly moving by his side. She couldn’t risk him thinking she wasn’t still upset with him. “Complete ashes. Nothing left. We came here as soon as we discovered it.”

“We’ve always known there’s orcs out there,” Bain spoke for the first time across the table. “Why is this any different?”

“Because they’re no longer attacking a lone traveler or two,” her father explained solemnly. “Burning farms, entire villages-.”

“Means they are no longer afraid of an open fight,” Thorin finished, his deep voice thundering across the table. He was viewing the map with hard eyes. “It appears a year is all they needed to regain their strength.”

Sigrid watched as Fili’s uncle and her father shared a look. Not a single soul under the mountain or in Dale would say the two were friends. They tolerated each other, at best, but she knew they’d do anything to keep the other’s kingdoms safe.

The talk shifted from the whereabouts of the orc attacks, to plans of actions. Upping patrols. Thaddeus and his men fell silent, but remained as Thorin, her father, and the other dwarves began speaking heatedly.

Sigrid eyed the map; the marks indicating the attacks. So many farms and homes gone, and they’d had no idea until just that day. Sigrid’s heart burned for the screams and cries that had gone unanswered. Her mind conjured up a child that looked eerily like Tilda, crying in the dark for help and none came.

A shudder went through her.

“I wouldn’t worry too much, my lady,” Fili spoke suddenly from beside her. His voice was low, avoiding attention from those at the table. He hadn’t moved forward to accompany his uncle. “A single pack of orcs wouldn’t be able to do much damage to a city full of soldiers.”

“I’m not worried,” she answered honestly. “Not for myself. All those people-they needed help and none came.” She shook her head. An icy trinkle of guilt settled in the back of her mind. “It cannot be allowed to happen again.”

“We’ll see to it that it doesn’t.”

Sigrid almost offered him a smile. She didn’t like standing that close to Fili. Smells of leather and smoke wafted from him and it made her stomach warp into that knot she hated so much. It made her think of earlier in the year, when the snow had melted, and sprigs of new grass had just started to appear. When they lost hours together rebuilding parts of Dale. When she’d settle around a campfire for the evening, arms aching from a day of physical labor and listen to Kili tell stories involving trolls and wargs. Fili never told the stories, but he had always been a firm presence next to her. Someone she could roll her eyes to when his brother was acting like a fool. He always laughed whenever she did that.

No, Sigrid definitely did not like standing next to him.

She glanced at him and found his eyes already watching her. His features that had previously been firm and unrevealing, softened slightly. His blue eyes, so different than that of the rest of his family, seemed to look straight through her and Sigrid hated-hated-how badly she missed him in that moment. The knot in her stomach grew almost painful as she drew in a shaky breath.

“Fili-.”

“Sigrid-.”

They both froze as their words overlapped. Sigrid swallowed thickly, before nodding to him to continue.

“Sigrid,” he started slowly. “I know you were angry the other night, but I had my reasons for not coming to see you after my return. I need you to understand that.” He glanced across the room, towards the heated discussion being held over the table, before his hushed voice continued. “If I could tell you everything, I would.”

She too glanced at the table, unable to look at his blue eyes any longer. “So, we are still friends, then? Because you certainly didn’t act like it when I saw you.”

Sigrid looked back just in time to watch his brows pull together, a small frown forming. “I originally thought it would be best for you to be upset with me.” There it was again. The strange softening of his otherwise hard expression. “I don’t think I liked it very much though.”

Again, she fought another smile. “I don’t care for riddles, Fili. I never have.”

“No more riddles. I’m sorry I didn’t act as I should have when I came back.” He grinned slightly and Sigrid warmed at the sight. “I’d like if we can pretend I didn’t mess up.”

“Oh, I don’t plan on pretending anything,” she countered lightly. “I will be reminding you frequently of your mistake.”

The grin grew, tugging at his blonde beard. “I would expect nothing less, my lady.”

There was loud thump on the table. They both turned to see the bald dwarf heatedly discussing why the dwarves should patrol on her father’s lands and not stay on their own. Voices grew louder. From across the room, Thaddeus and his men stayed out of the way, but the former caught Sigrid looking. Sidestepping the squabbling group, Thaddeus crossed the room to stand before her and Fili.

“I must apologize for bringing such conflict into your home,” he said. He jerked his head towards the table. “But my men are grateful for the warmth of your fire and the ale. We’ve been on the road a long while.”

She smiled graciously. “You’ve brought my father and the king valuable information. It’s the least we can do.”

“It’s a long way to travel, just to follow some orc packs,” Fili said suddenly. There was a hardness to his words that hadn’t been there moment before. Enough so, Sigrid swung her head to look at him. Sure enough, the look he had fixed on Thaddeus was cold as ice.

“I’m sorry, did you not just do the same thing for several months?” Sigrid argued, ignoring that Fili’s icy stare landed on her. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she grinned sheepishly at Thaddeus.

“There were many reasons for my father to send scouts north,” the lord’s son explained easily. “For months, we’ve heard whispers of the dwarves return to Erebor and the rebuilding of Dale. It was a good excuse to come this way and extend a hand of friendship. Is it not important to grow your list allies?”

“Yes, very important,” Sigrid agreed quickly. Fili looked as if he were about to argue, but discussions at the table grew louder. There was another fist hitting the deep wood. Voices raised. Thaddeus glanced to the table, before bowing in farewell to Sigrid and rejoining his men. Sigrid waited until he safely on the other side of the noisy table before whirling Fili. “What is wrong with you?”

“What?” he demanded defiantly. The ice on features had melted, but he still appeared annoyed. “It is a far way to travel.”

“So?” she hissed. “Why are you being so rude to everyone?”

“What are you talking about? I just apologized to you.”

Sigrid groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. The hour was late and her patience was growing thin. “Just because you apologize, does not mean you get to keep acting awful to those around you.”

There was another thump on the table. Someone had started yelling. Fili looked to the commotion before only moment, before giving her attention.

“I’ll see you tomorrow evening,” he said in harsh whisper. “If they don’t murder each other in the next few minutes.”

Sigrid remained quiet as he joined the crowd around the table. He offered her no explanation, but an attempt at an apology. A pathetic apology, but one nonetheless.  Surely that had to count for something? Did she really need an explanation for something so trivial, when others were dealing with orc raids in the dead of night?

Sigrid didn’t say anything for the rest of the night.

***

“I must be confused.” Amabel yanked particularly hard on the strings of Sigrid’s corset. Sigrid gasped, holding tight to her bed posts. “I thought the dwarves were celebrating winning back the mountain?”

“They are,” Sigrid’s breath was strained. She was used to loose corset strings, since she’d always dressed her herself. However, Amabel took her title as handmaiden seriously and Sigrid was certain her very rib cage was going to snap. Tilda, who was already wearing her dress of a deep lilac with matching ribbons in her hair, giggled from her spot at her sister’s vanity. Sigrid shot her a look. Tilda spun her doll in her arms and stuck out her tongue in response. “It’s one year tonight.”

“I thought the anniversary of the battle isn’t for over a week?”

“They’re celebrating on the anniversary of the death of Smaug,” Sigrid corrected her. There was another hard pull and Sigrid’s knuckles turned white on the wooden post. “Without the death of the dragon, there would have been no mountain to have a battle over. Its why Dale was invited to the celebrations.”

Yes, killing the dragon had earned their father, and his people, their invitations to join the dwarves under the mountain.

“I see.” Amabel fingers quickly worked over the ties of the corset, finishing it with a final, short tug. Her handmaiden had been rather cross with her when she’d arrived home to prepare for the celebrations. Sigrid had spent most of the day warning the people of Dale not to travel unless it was necessary. Lock their doors at night. Don’t wander outside the city gates past dark. She’d returned much later than she anticipated, and her handmaiden was not thrilled about having to rush her work. “I’m surprised by how friendly you all are. Dwarves and men don’t usually get along, do they?”

Sigrid shrugged. “I guess so. Da isn’t very friendly with them, but I find them to be easy company.”

“My sister doesn’t say so, but she and Fili are very close,” Tilda bubbled. The doll was still swinging in her arms. “They recently got over a fight. Did you know?”

“We are not,” she argued, heat rising in her chest. Glancing over shoulder, she caught Amabel’s gaze as the handmaiden gathered up her gown. “And we weren’t fighting. Don’t let her tell you stories.”

“Fine, maybe not very close but they did used to spend an awful amount of time together. Kili would joke if he couldn’t find his brother, then to just find Sigrid and he’d only be few steps behind-.”

“Tilda, enough.” Sigrid glowered at her sister but could hear Amabel chuckle behind her. “You’re over exaggerating.”

Amabel lifted the gown over Sigrid’s head, letting it fall gently to the floor. Her quick fingers began their work on the ties in the back. “It’s alright, my lady. You don’t need to explain anything to me.”

Sigrid felt the need to argue, but there was nothing to argue against. Thinking about it, she supposed anytime the brothers were in Dale, Fili was always wherever she was. Helping move collapsed stone, reconstructing market stalls, passing out food to those still waiting for homes-no matter what task she was working on that day, he nearly always accompanied her.

She didn’t see what Tilda found so funny about it though.

“There you are, my lady. I think we are all finished. Not too bad, given my expedited timeline.”

Sigrid felt Amabel’s hands leave her gown and turned slowly to look in the mirror and she hardly recognized the reflection. Her gown was of the deepest blue, speckled with gems so small they appeared like starlight. It left her shoulders bare, showcasing a simple, silver necklace Amabel had found in her jewelry box. Her horrifically confining corset was doing its duty, and the gown was snug around her waist, before cascading to her feet. Her light brown hair, that she usually wore in a knot of braids, was halved. The bottom half was hanging down her back while the rest of it was intertwined in a mass of braids that was far more impressive than how she usually fixed her hair.

She looked like a real lady.

Tilda squealed in delight. “You look beautiful.”

Amabel was still fussing behind her, gently pulling on strands of hair. “I feel like your hair is missing something.”

“Theres a small wooden comb in my jewelry box,” Sigrid instructed her. “Please try that.”

Amabel returned quickly with the small, engraved heirloom, placing it in Sigrid’s hair. She looked in the mirror as her handmaiden took a step back and let out a sigh, her mouth turning upwards. “Absolutely perfect, my lady. No one will be able to keep their eyes off you.” Amabel grin widened. “I’ve heard the king invited those men to the celebration. The rumor is the lord’s son was asking if you’d be in attendance.”

Tilda frowned. “What would he care about that for?”

“I think he finds your sister very pretty,” Amabel gushed. “You two have to promise to tell me everything.”

Thaddeus found her pretty. The idea should have thrilled her. He was a lord’s son. Handsome. She wanted to be wearing a smile like Amabel’s and gushing about the night was bring, but she only felt…dread. She didn’t want him to find her pretty.

Sigrid’s mind flashed with two crossed swords.

The knot appeared in her stomach again.

***

Sigrid heard the announcement of their arrival but couldn’t see who made it. Every eye, hundreds of them, in the deep cavern were on them. Thorin sat before them, his seat raised high to see across the vast hall. Adjourned in thick furs and simple jewels that he had not worn in their home just the day before, he radiated with strength and power. A dwarf woman she hadn’t met stood to one side of him, but her dark eyes crinkled exactly as Kili’s and Sigrid knew instantly she was the brothers’ mother.

Fili and Kili stood on the other side of their uncle. Instead of the worn leathers they usually wore, Sigrid noted someone had made them change into something more presentable. Still armored leather, but in better condition. Kili’s bow wasn’t slung on his back and Fili’s swords were missing. She would have bet every coin in her house that he had at least a dozen weapons stashed on him somewhere, though. Both wore low crowns as well, Fili’s smaller than Thorin’s and Kili’s smaller than his brother’s.

Tauriel stood slightly behind the two, a symbol of her marriage to Kili. Her dress was a simple white, but Sigrid swore the elf was glowing in the firelight.

Next to her, her father bowed, followed quickly by her brother. Kili caught her eye as she and sister sunk into a curtsy, winking playfully, but it was Fili she looked to when she rose. His hands were clasped tightly in front of him and although his face was unmoving, she thought she saw him swallow thickly.

She wondered what mood he’d be in that evening.

“My kin welcomes you and yours, dragon slayer.” Thorin’s voice boomed through the massive hall, carrying over the bodies and tables laden with food and ale. “This day would not be possible without your skill and bravery. Eat with us.  Drink with us. And let Smaug curse the day he trifled with you, Lord Bard!”

Roaring cheers broke out around them. Music, lively and fast paced, came from somewhere and the cavern was filled with cheery voices and laughter. Thorin remained seated, but another seat was added beside him as her father approached. Bain followed. Sigrid overheard their talk immediately turn to orc packs.

“Many ladies from Dale have passed through already Tilda and you are, by far, the best dressed,” Kili grinned as he and Tauriel approached. Sigrid watched as the elf laid a hand on his shoulder, his own raising to latch their fingers together. “They can’t hold a candle to you.”

Tilda beamed, her lilac ribbons bouncing in her hair. Kili offered her his spare arm, that her little sister took gladly before they headed towards a table. Sigrid had just started to turn, looking to where she’d last saw Fili, when there was small cough next to her.

“Could I accompany you to get some wine, my lady?” Thaddeus had appeared be her elbow and for some odd reason, Sigrid felt a sinking feeling in her chest. He was handsome. Dark hair that, now that he had bathed, swept across his forehead. Deep green eyes. His smile was kind and welcoming, but Sigrid could not shake the feeling of dread swelling inside of her.

“Yes, please.” She couldn’t think of a polite way to decline. Tucking her hand into the crook of his arm, she let him guide her to the others.

Sigrid wasn’t sure how much time had passed. She’d been seated at one of the large wooden tables for quite some time, surrounded by familiar faces. Bofur, who’d she’d only seen a couple of times since the night Smaug attacked. The hobbit, who was rumored to be one of Thorin’s most trusted advisors. Kili and Tauriel. There were several other dwarves that she recognized from that day as well, like the bald one with the tattoos, but she couldn’t be sure of their names.

The entire time, Thaddeus was by her side.

And there was no sign of Fili.

Dancing started. Bofur, still wearing his ridiculous hat, leapt to his feet and bowed dramatically to Tilda, before taking her into the crowd of dancers. Sigrid was laughing, clapping along, when Kili slid into her sister’s abandoned seat, Tauriel close behind. A flagon of ale was clasped in his hand.

“So, how come I didn’t know you and Fili were fighting?”

Sigrid faltered in her clapping. “What? No one is fighting.”

Thaddeus had turned to listen as well.

“Then how come he was apologizing to you yesterday?” He took a deep sip from cup, grinning. “Tilda overheard. Something about hiding in a hallway?”

Sigrid internally swore. “Well, no one was fighting. You could have heard for yourself if you had bothered to be at that meeting. Tell me, Prince of Erebor, why meetings about orc packs don’t concern you?”

“Ah, my dear lady I’m not required to attend those meetings.” He tapped the thin crown laying on his forehead. “Spare son, remember?”

“Don’t call yourself that,” she chastised. “It sounds awful.”

Kili shrugged. “It’s the truth, but don’t try to distract me. Come on. Out with it.”

“Kili, he’s your brother. If you’re so concerned about it, go find Fili and badger him about it. Leave me alone.”

He made a face, before leaning around her to address Thaddeus. “Good luck with this one. Not very nice.”

Sigrid gave him no warning before shoving him off the bench, his ale spilling over his torso and roars of laughter erupting around them. She made a face back to him, before turning her back on Kili and fully facing Thaddeus with a timid grin.

“Sorry about that.” She attempted a sweet smile. “But if you don’t stop him early, he’ll just go on all night.”

“No apologies necessary.” He tipped his ale towards her, giving her an amused grin. “I like to see a woman who enjoys a good joke. Tell me, how long have you been friends with the princes of Erebor? Since the battle?”

“Not really.” She took a sip of her wine. A glance behind her told her Kili and Tauriel had left, likely to track down Fili. “That’s when I met them. But it was a few months after they started visiting the city.”

“Bad blood between your families?”

She shook her head. “No, nothing like that. Fili was injured badly. I don’t even think he could leave his bed for several weeks. When they were strong enough, they started to come to Dale. I haven’t been able to get rid of them since.”

Thaddeus laughed. “That’s good to know that you have such good allies in the mountain. Very strategic.”

Sigrid couldn’t think of what to say to that, so she settled for a smile then another sip of wine. She’d never thought of her relationship with the brothers as strategic. She simply just enjoyed being with them. Well, she used to enjoy being with Fili. Lately however, he was getting on her last nerves.

Sigrid was saved from having to continue conversation about strategy and allies. Tilda was passing by them on the dance floor, cheeks red and her smile wide. She waved animatedly to Sigrid as she twirled.

Sigrid scanned the crowd searching for a blonde beard and blue eyes and found none.

Tilda twirled by again, this time motioning for Sigrid to join to which she sharply shook her head. Bofur too stopped, matching her sister in their waving. Sigrid shook her head harder.

“I’ll admit I don’t know many dwarven dances, but the steps don’t seem too difficult,” Thaddeus commented. “Surely we can figure them out.”

Her stomach sunk. “Oh, no-I don’t think so-.”

Like a pest couldn’t rid herself of, Kili appeared back on her other side. He gave no mention on whether or not he ran into his brother and Tauriel was nowhere to be seen. Which was saying something, as she was a good head taller than most of those in attendance. Kili didn’t sit though. Before Sigrid could even splutter a protest, his hands were yanking hers from her lap.

“Come on, lady of Dale. Your sister is taken so you’ll have to do.”

“Kili, no! I don’t know the steps-.”

“Great, neither do I.”

Cursing the strength of dwarves as she was pulled into the throng of dancers against her will, she turned to try and offer an apology to the visiting lord’s son, but she had already lost him in the crowd. Residing to accept her fate, she gripped Kili’s hand and his shoulder. Her nose wrinkled.

“You reek of ale.”

“And whose fault is that?” He spun her. “I found Fili. He’s awfully grumpy tonight.”

So, nothing had changed. “That’s not a surprise. I think I did something to upset him, but he won’t tell me why.”

Kili shook his head. “Nah, that’s not it. I think I’ve got things figured out, though.”

Sigrid raised a brow as he spun her again. “Do you?”

“Yes.” They continued to dance, moving to the edge of the moving crowd. The music was impossibly loud and he was nearly shouting to be heard over it. “I need revenge for the bench business and Fili is in need of dance.”

Out of nowhere, Kili stuck his boot out and caught her around the ankle. His hands disappeared from hers as she fell forward. However, instead of slamming into the stone floor, she collided into a body; firm and warm. Clutching the leather clad shoulders, she struggled to gain her footing as Fili’s hands snapped tightly to her waist to steady her.

“Oh, gods. I’m sorry,” she mumbled, her fingers digging into his shoulder. There was the smell she loved so much; smoke and leather. His face was close to hers; too close. In fact, she didn’t think they’d ever been closer.  His very breath brushed her face as she stood. His hands, warm and strong, were still planted firmly on her waist. “Your idiot brother-.”

“I saw.” His voice was deep and heated, but not directed at her. Looking over her shoulder, he bellowed, “Kili!”

She looked too, watching as Tauriel appeared and joined Kili amid the dancers. Kili only winked, before twirling his wife into the crowd.

Fili muttered something that sounded like a curse, before locking eyes with her again. His hands were absolutely burning through her dress. “Are you alright?”

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

“Well, let’s go then. We can’t let him win, can we?”

There was no time for protesting. One hand tightened its hold around her middle, while the other took her hand from shoulder and grasped it tightly. She could feel every callus and scar on them. Sigrid wasn’t tall for a human and Fili wasn’t short for a dwarf, causing her to only be slightly taller than him. He was able to guide her easily, tugging her into the crowd much more gently than his brother had done.

“I don’t know the steps,” she spluttered for a second time.

“No one is going to care. You look too good for them to be looking at your feet.”

She blushed furiously as they turned. Another pair of dancers got too close, and she felt his hand splay on her lower back, pressing her closer. A breath caught in her throat.

“Your brother said you’re in another foul mood,” she commented, taking in short breaths. Her corset was fighting against her. “Care to explain?”

He didn’t say anything right away. They spun a few more times, but the hand on her back never lost its hold. She was beginning to think he was going to ignore her completely when he finally spoke. “I don’t like your father’s guest.”

She nearly paused in her steps. “Why?”

“I just don’t like him.”

Sigrid rolled her eyes. “That’s very enlightening. Thank you.”

She didn’t say that Thaddeus made her uncomfortable. Mainly because she couldn’t offer an explanation of why, so it seemed pointless to bring it up. But a part of her was thankful Fili appeared to feel the same way. She couldn’t imagine what reason he would have though.

“I suppose as long as you aren’t mad at me,” she continued. “Then it doesn’t matter who you dislike.”

Fili grinned and Sigrid thought she felt his fingers press into her back. A shiver went through her. “I could never be upset at you, my lady.”

Her cheeks couldn’t seem to stop burning.

***

“-travel to this village and be back within a fortnight-.”

“If we can see what aid is needed most-.”

“-soldiers dispatched here and here-.”

Sigrid was only catching briefs snippets of the business her father, Thorin, her brother, and a few other dwarves were discussing at the table behind her. It seemed as though they hadn’t bothered to enjoy the celebrations at all and chose to instead discuss tactics.

The hour was late, and the music had ceased. Tilda was next to her on the long bench, dozing into Kili’s side. Her ribbons had come loose, and she had the look of a child who had just had the best time of her life. Sigrid was pleased. She hoped that meant no nightmares would bother her that night. On her other side was Fili, sitting on top of the table so close she could have rested her cheek against of him without hardly moving.

On the opposite side of the cavern, she could see Thaddeus with his men. He didn’t look to her and she was grateful.

In front of them, in front of dozens, if not hundreds of figures Bofur was on top of a table, pacing dramatically as he shared his story.

“-and then out of the mist on the top of Ravenhill, he appeared. Azog! It was a trap, to lure Thorin and his bloodline to their death!”

There were murmurs in the crowd.

“-in his grasp, was Thorin’s oldest heir. There was nothing they could do. Kili was in the bottom of the ruins. Thorin had no bow. He could only watch as Azog ended his bloodline one by one.”

Sigrid winced. It didn’t matter how everything ended, she had heard the story retold many times and it never got any easier to listen to.

“Just as Azog raised his blade-.”

She scrunched up her face, closing her eyes completely. From her left, there was a low chuckle.

“Closing your eyes won’t make you deaf.”

“Shut up,” she whispered. “I don’t like this story.”

Bofur must have shared the best part, because there was an eruption of thumping tankards and cheers. The part when Tauriel arrived seconds before catastrophe, her elven dagger launching through the air to lodge itself in Azog’s shoulder as he moved to impale Fili in the back.

It was the only reason Fili had been sliced from hip to neck and dropped, crashing into the ruins below, instead of being gutted through.

“-if your eldest can secure alliances in the west, that will make all the difference.”

Sigrid paused, turning to give her full attention to the men speaking behind her. Sigrid wasn’t sure he’d heard what she had, but Fili did the same. Her father and Thorin looked to her as she turned, but while Thorin nodded to her politely her father looked embarrassed. It wasn’t something she was accustomed to seeing on his features. Suspicions roused in her gut.

“I’m sorry?” she asked Thorin, with all the grace she could muster. “What was that you said about me securing alliances?”

The king under the mountain had always appeared to like her presence more than her father. When he spoke, it was with his usual gruffness, but there was kindness underneath it. “Nothing to be alarmed about. Your father has made it very clear you haven’t made your choice yet. I only meant it would be advantageous should you choose the young man who alerted us to the orcs. I’d like to have them as allies.”

Sigrid looked between the kind face of Thorin and the dejected face of her father and knew immediately there wasn’t something she wasn’t understanding. She glanced up at Fili and found her carefree friend that had returned the last few hours was gone. The lines in his face were hard and he wouldn’t meet her gaze. Behind her, there was more applause and cheers. Bofur must have gotten to the part where the eagles arrived.

“Choose?”

“Choose,” Thorin repeated. Sigrid got the feeling he thought she was being a bit dim. He raised a brow to her father. “Was he not one of the ones who sent in an offer for her?”

In an instant, she understood. Burning ice flooded her veins. Thaddeus had said there was more than one reason to travel to their city and she suddenly understood she was one of them. And not only that, but her father had known. Hadn’t told him no. Hadn’t told any of them, because Thorin had said one of the ones, no. He’d even shared with the king under the mountain before herself.

She was a pawn in their hypothetical strategies.

Sigrid couldn’t breathe.

“Excuse me,” she murmured, keeping her composure the best she could as she quickly left the table. Her father might have tried to call her back, but the ringing in her ears was far too loud.

A choice. She was expected to make a choice, just for the sake of politics.

Nausea swarmed in her stomach. Sigrid managed to keep upright as moved through the crowd. She kept trying to breathe deeply, but her coreset was painfully tight against her chest. There was no sound except the thundering of her heartbeat. No sensations except for the pain in her chest. There was a dimly lit corridor to her right and she managed to keep upright just until she darted through its entrance.

A sob racked through her throat, but she couldn’t catch her breath. The damn fabric was strained against her torso and her hand clutched the front of her bodice in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure. The torches at the edge of her vision were growing blurry.

“Sigrid!”

Rough hands, all too familiar, held her face. Blue eyes pierced hers and Sigrid felt an overwhelming rush of relief.

“Fili.” It was choked out cry. “I-I can’t breathe.”

He understood immediately. The warm hands left her face, gripping her waist and spinning her to face the cold, stone wall. The ties on the back of her dress were undone faster than she would have thought possible, and she heard the unmistakable sound of a knife leaving his boot.

The moment his knife sliced down the back of her corset, she gasped in a lungful of air. Her hand that had been clutching her chest was now the only thing keeping her dress on, but she couldn’t bring herself to care as leaned against the stone and simply breathed.

“Thank you,” she spluttered as she faced him. The stone wall was freezing on her open back. She felt the smallest twinge of embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” His eyes raked over and she suppressed a shudder. She knew she looked a mess. Tears in her eyes. A dress hanging limply from her torso. “You really had no idea?”

“No.” Her throat burned. Eyes prickling, she shook her head to try and clear the tears. “I should have known though. This is what ladies do, isn’t it? Tie their great family to another great family? Produce a bunch of heirs for a man I hardly know.”

“Stop.”

“The past year, it never once occurred to me I would be used for politics. I always thought I’d be in Dale forever, taking care of its people and my family.” The ridiculousness of it all was hitting her. Of course, she would have been expected to marry some far-off lord. Why hadn’t she seen this coming? “I didn’t expect I would have to leave.”

Leave to marry. Leave to share the bed of a stranger and give him children. To maybe see her family a couple more times throughout her lifetime. She’d likely never see the dwarves again.

“You don’t have to,” Fili countered heatedly. “You can tell your father no. He loves you. He’d respect your wishes.”

Sigrid closed her eyes, leaning her head against the wall. Yes, her father did love her.

“I know he would, but if this is expected of me-if this my duty, you know I have to.” The nausea appeared again. “I can’t be allowed to fail him. If I need to tie my family to another, I’ll do that for them. I only wish I hadn’t been so stupid. I could have prepared myself.”

Fili seemed to be struggling to find words. His jaw was stiff as she shoved his knife back in his boot and his hand flexed. “It’s not stupid. No one ever spoke to you about it. How could you have known?”

Sigrid appreciated the kind words, but she knew it wasn’t true.

“Did I look awful? When I left the table?”

“No,” he answered. “You kept very composed. I don’t think anyone could tell you were about to pass out.”

Sigrid snorted. “Well, that’s good at least. Is there any hope for my dress?”

Fili only spun a finger to signal her to turn and she obeyed. Heated fingers appeared on the expanse of skin exposed. She sucked in a sharp breath as his rough fingers brushed against the soft spot of her back.

“Sorry about your corset.” He didn’t sound sorry at all. “This might hold until you get home, but you’ll need to toss it. But the alternative was you losing consciousness. I couldn’t have you smacking your head on the stone or something.”

“Yes, thank you for that.” The corset was only hanging onto her torso by mere threads that he’d tied together. There was a tug on her dress as she felt him start on the laces. “But the dress survived?”

His breath brushed the back of her neck and her teeth bit painfully into her cheek to keep quiet. “My knife didn’t come near it. It looks much too good on you.”

“You said that earlier.”

When she spun to face him, he was nearly as close as he had been when they danced. The torchlight flickered over his features. The mass of blonde hair. The broad leather clad shoulders. It must have been the months she went without his presence, Sigrid wanted nothing more than to simply melt into him.

“I meant it.”

She sniffed, wiping a stray tear from the corner of her eye. “Do I look like I just had crisis?”

“Not at all.”

“Good.” She patted her hair and flattened her hands down her gown. “We can’t have them think I don’t know to be a proper lady. Let’s pretend the last few minutes didn’t happen and go listen to the stories. I can panic about it more tomorrow.”

Fili cracked a grin, but it didn’t match his eyes.

Chapter Text

Sigrid cut into her breakfast with more force than necessary. The knife scraped against her plate and although her father winced at the sound, he made no comment. She’d been the first to arrive at their dining table that morning, as she hadn’t slept much at all the night before. Her father had joined her soon after. Silent. Watching her warily as if he were waiting for an explosion. Sigrid only continued to stiffly cut her fruit.

“Where’s your sister?” he finally asked.

“Sleeping.” Sigrid refused to look up from her plate. “She was up until nearly dawn, as you are well aware.”

Another beat of silence. The only sounds in the room were the crackling from the fire and the scraping of her utensils. Her father allowed it for several minutes, before clearing his throat.

“We didn’t speak last night.”

“No, we didn’t,” she agreed curtly. “I felt it necessary to attempt to enjoy the rest of my evening, but it’s no longer last night. I’ve had several hours to come to terms with what you kept hidden from me. So, let’s speak. Shall I go first, or would you like to?”

“Sigrid-.”

“Actually, I should like to go first.” Sigrid shoved away from the table, the wooden chair moving noisily under the force. “How did you decide to keep this from me? Did you think I would not agree to it? That I would be angry?”

“Are you not angry now?”

She whirled, her skirts tangling around her legs as she paced between the expanse of walls. Her father’s eyes followed her, but he remained in his seat.

“I am angry because I have to find out I’m expected to marry for politics in the midst of a celebration, surrounded by my friends.” Heat was rising to her cheeks. “And it wasn’t even from you! Not only that but said marriage had already been discussed it seems enough that it appeared to be common knowledge at your briefing tables! Do you have any idea the embarrassment I felt when I realized I spent time in the presence of a man who had asked for my hand and I had no idea, but others did.”

“You needn’t worry about Thaddeus. He’s left for home with his men-.”

“Why wasn’t I told?” she demanded, voice rising. “Have I not done everything, that’s ever been expected of me? Have I not done every duty that’s ever been assigned to me and more? Why-why-this time, did you leave me in the dark?”

“It is because of your sense of duty that I did not tell you!” Her father’s voice was rising too, but not in anger. Desperation, maybe. “Sigrid, it is because you always do the right thing that I wanted to keep this from you. I want you to think about what I’m about to say. To really think, do you understand me?”

Sigrid continued to pace, her arms crossed tightly over her bodice, but after a few moments she nodded stiffly.

“You always do what is best for everyone else. Had I told you it would be beneficial for Dale, for our family name to be tied to another great family, you would have chosen one of the offers immediately. You would have chosen someone based on their power, solely to ensure your family had a powerful ally. Do you deny this?”

“Of course that’s what I would have done.” She paused in her pacing. “I don’t see the point of this.”

“The point is you wouldn’t not have chosen someone who made you happy. You would not have chosen someone close to home or someone you thought would be a good father. You might have hated him and been homesick, but you wouldn’t have said a word.” The desperation in her father’s voice escalading. “I could not bear the idea of my eldest who deserves so much more, making a choice like that.”

He finally rose from the table and crossed the room in quick strides. His hands gripped her shoulder and he sunk, meeting her eyes.

“You will have to marry for politics. I cannot keep you from that future, but I thought I could delay it a little longer. Give you more time with your sister and the friends you made here. I said nothing when the lord’s son arrived because I thought how lucky it would be if you actually found yourself drawn to him naturally, not because you had to.” He gave her a sad smile. “I was wrong.”

Sigrid swallowed thickly. Every word her father said was true. That’s exactly what she would have done. If her marriage was meant to ensure a powerful ally for her family, she would have chosen whoever had the most powerful name. Biggest kingdom. Most wealth. Not for her sake, but to ensure the survival of her family. To make sure if Dale ever needed aid, help would always come.

“Oh, Da.”

She threw her arms around her father’s neck as her eyes burned with tears. She’d spent most of the night crying into her pillow, so they fell easily. The fire that had been growing in her chest flickered out. Her father gripped her back tightly, but when he pulled away, his gently hands moved to her cheeks.

“You look so much like your mother. Tilda too. So much so, it pains me sometimes to look at you.” Sigrid thought she saw water in his eyes as well. “But your sense of responsibility I know all too well. It’s a curse we both share. I know I will never be able to keep you from an arranged marriage, but all I ask is that you consider your options. You’re very young and I’d like you to remain my daughter a little longer.”

She wiped her eyes and couldn’t think of anything to say, so she hugged her father a second time.

***

“I really wished that handsome lord had stayed around a little.”

Tilda wrinkled her nose at Amabel’s comment. “I’m glad he’s gone.”

“Whatever for?” Sigrid grinned. “Thaddeus was perfectly nice to all of us.”

“I don’t know.” Her sister shrugged, toying with the doll in her hands. “I just didn’t like him.”

Fili, who was only a few feet away, had made the same comment.

It had been several days since the celebrations inside the mountain. The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon and a soft mist hung over the short blades of grass and new trees. The early morning air had a sharp bite to it and Sigrid tightened her shawl around her shoulders.

She, Amabel, and Tilda stood in a small huddle by the southern gate. Her father, along with several dozen soldiers, was preparing his horse to leave. Her father wanted to personally visit nearby farming villagers and see that his soldiers arrived and was due to leave any minute. Fili, Kili, Tauriel and a handful of dwarves that stood nearby had brought resources on behalf of their King to be delivered to the villages as well.

“I suppose there’s plenty of well looking lords for your sister to choose from,” Amabel sighed dramatically. “Maybe you’ll like the next one.”

Tilda made another face and Sigrid laughed.

The horses were readied. Sigrid and her sister watched from afar as her father left instructions for Bain. In her father’s absence, he would oversee the city. She hadn’t spoken much to her father since their heated conversation the morning after their time under the mountain. His time had been consumed with dealing with orc packs, but she was slightly thankful. It meant there had been no further discussions of marriage.

“It’s time we were off,” their father announced as he approached them quickly. He swung Tilda up into a tight hug. “Bain has his orders. I won’t be more than a week.”

He set Tilda down, before gently holding Sigrid’s shoulders. “I doubt you’ll even notice I’m gone. Take care of things for me.”

Sigrid nodded. “Be safe, Da.”

They watched as the horses trailed out of the gates, the soldiers’ armor shining in the rising sun.

“You know, we offered to accompany him,” Kili remarked. He had moved closer to where they were huddled. Fili was close behind him. “He said he’d rather us help keep an eye on Dale.”

“That sounds like him.” Sigrid watched the last horse disappear through the gate. “He has all those soldiers in his company. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

From the other side of his brother, Fili was watching her. She hadn’t seen him since he used his knife to break apart her corset. The memory brought a flush of heat up her neck and she wondered if he had thought the same thing as she watched a muscle tick in his jaw.

“My lady,” Amabel spoke softly beside her. “You’re due in the market this morning.”

Sigrid didn’t look to her handmaiden. Kili and Tauriel were locked in a low conversation, wandering towards the gate. Fili fell into step after them. He glanced back to Sigrid, motioning his head towards the open gate.

“Take Tilda. I’ll find you both later.”

Amabel’s smile faltered. Her dark eyes looked to where the blonde prince was standing, then back to Sigrid. “Are you sure?”

She gave her what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “Positive.”

Leaving her sister and handmaiden behind, Sigrid fell into step with Fili as they passed through the gates. The people of Dale had taken her warnings seriously and there were hardly any townspeople wandering outside of the stone walls. The soldiers and her father had already disappeared over the ridge of the rocky terrain, but Kili and Tauriel were only slightly ahead of them.

In silence, she found a large outcropping of stone and perched herself on the edge of it to bask in the growing sunlight. Fili joined her, close enough she could feel the heat radiating from underneath his leathers. The spot was perfect. Close enough to the city walls to not put the guards in a panic but angled enough their eyes were not directly on her. It gave her a small sense of privacy.

“Your handmaiden didn’t seem too upset at me for ruining your corset.”

Sigrid felt her mouth quirk. “I may have thrown it into the fire before she could find it. Less questions.”

Fili laughed, a low sound that she felt deep in her bones.

“And you appear to be calmer. Breathing correctly and all that,” he noted lightly. “Does that mean you’re taking things rather well?”

“If you’re referring to my father lying to me, I am doing surprisingly well. He’s sent the men from the west away, as I’m sure you aware.” Her fingers knotted into her skirts. “I was…very angry that night, but he explained his piece and I can understand it. At least, to an extent. Now, if you’re referring to the notion I will be marrying a stranger at the some point in the future…” Her voice trailed off.

Sigrid would have been lying if said the idea didn’t make her uneasy. While she had no practical experience, she understood what it took to conceive a child. Whenever she imagined the act, with a blurred face looming above her, she felt her stomach churn. There had been more than one time that week that such a haunting image accompanied the dragon fire and orcs in her nightmares.

“I haven’t had long to get used to the idea,” she continued after a beat. “I’m sure it won’t be so bad in reality.”

“I’ve always known I wouldn’t have a choice in the matter.” Fili was looking ahead, watching where Kili and Tauriel were growing smaller amongst the rocks. “I grew up being told if Thorin ever got his throne, I would be next in line. Heirs don’t really get a vote in that sort of thing.”

“I can’t imagine that’s any better,” she countered. “Being told your entire life you cannot ever marry love must be depressing.”

Fili broke his gaze from the horizon, eyes shifting to hers. “Is that what you’ve always wanted? To marry for love?”

“I suppose so. I had never really thought about it.” It was the truth. She never really had considered marriage. She had always been more preoccupied with keeping her siblings alive than to consider romance an option. “I assumed I’d be in my father’s house until Tilda didn’t need me to take care of her anymore. Marriage never seemed important then.” She picked at a string on her skirt. “You know, my parents married for love. I don’t think anyone has ever had as much love for someone as my father did for my mother.”

“I don’t know about that.” Fili’s mouth curved under his beard. “Kili and Tauriel may have them beat. They’re completely, sickeningly devoted to each other.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

He shrugged, laying his hands on top the rock. His fingers barely brushed against her skirt-covered thigh. “I didn’t say it was bad. It sure can be annoying though.”

“I think it’s lovely,” she argued, casting him a look that he smirked at. “They risked everything to be together. Tauriel lost everything she’s ever known. It’s a beautiful story. Besides, doesn’t Kili being married technically save you from marriage yourself? He can give you heirs like your mother gave Thorin.”

Fili smiled, but Sigrid knew him well enough to know it wasn’t genuine. “My kin tolerate Tauriel in the mountain because she’s the only reason Thorin has any surviving heirs at all. However, I imagine the mountain itself would come crumbling down if anyone were to suggest the heir to Erebor have elf blood running in their veins.” There was a heavy pause between them. “Between the two of us, they’ve agreed to not have any children. So, it doesn’t matter anyway.”

“Oh.” Sigrid watched in the distance as the red-haired elf threw her head back and laughed at something Kili said. “Because they’ll be treated badly?”

Fili shook his head. He was watching the pair too. “Tauriel is already six hundred years old and still very young. My brother will live another couple hundred years, maybe. If he’s lucky. No one knows if its even possible for them to conceive, but if they do, they have no idea if the child will have her immortality.” Sigrid’s chest crumbled at the sadness that crossed his features. “She will already have to carry the grief of losing her husband, but to watch her children pass is too unbearable for her to imagine.”

“That’s awful,” she choked. Her throat had grown tight. “She told you this?”

“No. Kili did. Shortly after they married. He wanted me to know he wouldn’t be providing me with any future kings. I’ll have to take care of that on my own.”

Sigrid took a steady breath. Her chest was a mix of emotions that she was having trouble placing. It caved in for Kili and Tauriel, the reality of their love story that she had not considered, but there was something else there too. Something foreign that had sparked to existence with Fili’s comment. Perhaps it was her lack of sleep that had her confused, but she didn’t like picturing him having children. Standing with a blank faced dwarf-woman beside him.

Her grief twisted into something sickly.

“Well, suddenly my problems don’t seem so bad anymore,” she muttered, pushing away the sickly feeling in her gut. “Marrying a stranger doesn’t seem so bad after that.”

Fili pondered a minute, his eyes searching the rocky horizon, before speaking again. “Is that what bothers you about it the most? That he would be a stranger?”

“Yes,” she answered quickly. An unamused laugh escaped her lips. “I’ve had nightmares about it. Isn’t that ridiculous? I hate the idea of leaving everyone. Tilda, mostly. But yes. The thought of having to-to do that with someone I don’t know…”

Her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, but Filli either didn’t notice or was kind enough to pretend he didn’t. Sigrid stole a quick gaze of his features and, while his eyes were still on something ahead of them, there was tightness in the corner of his eyes.

“How often are you having these nightmares?”

“I’ve been having them for months,” she huffed. “Not of marriage, obviously, but I don’t even remember the last time I had a decent night’s sleep.”

The sun had grown higher in the sky. The mist that had been desperately clinging to the stone had faded and the breeze didn’t bite.  Kili and Tauriel had disappeared. They were likely spending their afternoon hunting. Sigrid knew Tauriel wasn’t made for living under stone and needed time out in the open air. Now knowing that wasn’t the only thing the elf had given up brought her a jolt of sorrow.

“Are you going to join your brother?” she asked after several minutes of peaceful silence. “I’m sure they wouldn’t be difficult to find.”

“Nah,” he answered. There was the shift of his hand on the stone. Sigrid felt every brush of his fingers against her skirt. “Unless that was a hint that you’re tired of me.”

Sigrid smiled. “No. I enjoy wallowing in self-pity with you. It’s very comforting.”

“Well, in that case-.” Fili shifted, pushing backwards to where his back rested more comfartbaly on a wall of moss-covered rock. He moved his arms to rest behind his head, the muscles flexing and Sigrid had to quickly glance away. “-tell me about these nightmares.”

“Why?” she demanded. “So, you can make fun of me?”

“Of course not. Maybe I can help.” He patted the expanse of rock behind her. “Come on. Get comfortable.”

She rolled her eyes, moving backwards to lay against the cool stone. It was hard on her back, but the sun was warm on her face and she found herself closing her eyes as she spoke. “They’re mainly of fire. Sometimes orcs. Sometimes both. Recently, there’s been a faceless man just-above me.” She was thankful the sun was too bright to open her eyes. She didn’t want to catch a glimpse of the expression on Fili’s face. “I know its silly, but I can’t get them to stop. Amabel has been trying different brews at night, but they don’t work either.”

A bird sung its morning song nearby. The tune echoed around them, before softly dying out.

“I have bad dreams sometimes too.”

Sigrid peaked open an eye, but she couldn’t see his face. “You do not.”

“I do,” he countered. “Not very often, but I have them.”

She closed her eyes again. She couldn’t tell if it was the soft breeze or the feeling of Fili laying beside her, but her eyelids were growing heavy. “What of?”

“Lots of things. Once it was Kili writhing on your kitchen table. Sometimes it’s of those damn spiders.”

Sigrid snorted. “I didn’t take the Prince of Erebor to be afraid of spiders.”

“They were very big spiders,” he protested defensively, and she giggled. “Let’s see, there’s been a few from Ravenhill. Those are always the worst.” Sigrid moved slightly. Her cheek brushed the edge of Fili’s chest, and she thought she felt him stiffen. “I can see Thorin’s face across the ice.”

Sigrid sighed. She didn’t think she’d be able to open her eyes if she tried. “What wrong with us? Why can’t we dream of something happy?”

Fili matched her sigh. “I don’t know.”

The sun was growing particularly warm on her skin and Sigrid’s mind grew still. There was no dragon fire or blood splattered rocks. No thoughts of Thaddeus and marriage and faceless men. She did not think of her father travelling in such dangerous terrain or of Kili and Tauriel, who were destined to have the most tragic love story she’d ever heard.

Sigrid did not think. She did not dream.

***

Consciousness came to her slowly. The first thing she was aware of was warmth; an unmeasurable, overwhelming feeling of warmth. The second was that she was comfortable; almost too comfortable for having dozed off laying on top of a boulder.

The third realization slammed into her. Only half of her remained on the rock. The top half, her head and chest, was laying on top of Fili. Her head was tucked underneath his neck, his beard lightly scratching her forehead, and her fingers had knotted tightly into his shirt. One his arms remained stretched behind his head, but the other had looped around her back, holding her tightly against him. She was hyperaware of every inch of it; every muscle that came in contact with her body and all at once she was wide awake.

Sigrid sucked in sharp breath and the chest underneath her did the same. He must have fallen asleep too, because the arm on her back disappeared as she shoved herself up, gasping for a deep breath as she looked around at their surroundings. 

The sun was directly overhead. The late autumn day had grown uncharacteristically warm, and Sigrid threw off her shawl in an attempt to cool herself. She felt stray hairs sticking to her skin.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she moaned, wiping her face. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

Fili’s eyes were gleaming as he reached over and pulled pieces of hair off her sweaty face. “Apologies are not necessary. You can fall asleep on me anytime.”

“Fili, I’m serious.” Heat was climbing up her neck. Her heart pounded loudly. She looked around the boulder. They were still well in view of city wall, but no one seemed to be paying them any attention. “If someone had seen us-.”

“Relax. No one is going to be ruining your reputation here.” He stretched. For the second time that day, Sigrid averted her eyes from arms. “You needed the sleep though. I take it no bad dreams?”

“No,” she admitted. Her heart was finally beginning to slow in her chest. She wouldn’t tell him, but judging by the sun it was the longest stretch of rest she’d had in months. “Maybe you scared them away.”

“Well, I’ll take that as a sign we should sleep together more often.”

“You’re awful.” She brushed his shoulder with her own. “I will take it as a sign, that having you back and being able to talk with you again-no matter how depressing our conversations are-is the best remedy.”

Sigrid looked around the boulder again. She knew it was long past time she found Amabel and Tilda. She couldn’t go slacking off on her duties when her father had only been gone a handful of hours. Fili must have guessed where her thoughts were leading, because he hastily reached into his leathers.

“Here. Take this before you go.” He grabbed one of her hands, thrusting the hilt of small blade into her grasp. “Maybe it’ll help.”

Sigrid turned the knife over in hand. “Fili, no. This is your favorite. Besides, I don’t even no what to do it.”

She offered it back to him, but his callused hand overtook hers, closing her fingers around it. “Just take it. I’ve got about a dozen others on me right now. As for using it, people usually use it for stabbing things-.” She glared at him. “-but I was thinking you could put it under your pillow or something. Maybe it’ll help with the nightmares.”

It was difficult to tell, but Sigrid thought she might have caught his face turning the slightest shade of red.

***

Sigrid tossed in her bed.

Her room was darker than normal. The fire had gone out and clouds covered the night sky. No moonlight filtered through her curtains. Tilda was small shape underneath the covers, unbothered by her sister’s restlessness, and sleeping soundly.

Sigrid was envious. For once, nightmares didn’t plague her mind, but sleep evaded her. She felt too cold. Too alone. Her thoughts travelled to the arm braced against her back. To the hands that gripped her waist under the mountain. The rise and fall of a chest underneath her cheek.

She cursed under her breath, ripping back the covers and pulling on her dressing gown. She stoked the embers in the hearth before moving in front of the window. The city was dark. Silent. No stars twinkled at her. She couldn’t even see the outline of the mountain. She wondered if the sky was as dark for her father tonight. Maybe he had travelled far enough in the last two days that the moon and stars were shining brightly for him.

Sigrid hoped so.

She was just about to try sleeping again when she felt a prickle on the back of her neck. She froze. Her eyes scanned the dark rooftops, but nothing appeared amiss, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of something being wrong. Of being watched. Her muscles started to ache.

Tightening the strap of her dressing gown around her waist, she latched the window shut before hurrying to her bed. Without disturbing Tilda, she pulled the knife she received two days prior from under her pillow. She shoved it deep in her pockets, but her fingers kept a tight grasp on the hilt as she moved quickly out of the room.

Slipping silently past the many doors, she was just beginning down the stairs when a quiet voice called out to her from the top.

“My lady?” Amabel, wearing her own dressing gown but looking as wide awake as Sigrid, stood at the top of the stairs with a candle in hand. It flickered their shadows against the walls. “Is everything alright?”

Sigrid stuffed the knife deeper. “Yes, go back to sleep. I’m going to go check on Bain.”

Amabel’s forehead creased. “I’m not sure if that’s the best idea. The hour is late-.”

“I’ll be quick. Don’t wait up for me.”

She didn’t give her handmaiden a chance to argue. Slipping quietly through the rest of the house, the guards didn’t protest either. They were used to her midnight wanderings.

Once outside again, the prickling feeling returned. She couldn’t help looking over her shoulder every few seconds and peering around corners as she made her way to the southern gate. Bain was supposed to be on watch that evening.

Her bare feet were freezing against the cobblestones, and she was only half-aware that she indecently dressed to be wandering the streets of Dale, but she didn’t care. Maybe it was the lack of sleep. Maybe she was just growing insane.

It didn’t take her long to reach the gate. As expected, there was a small group of soldiers walking the ramparts. Torches flickered but they did nothing against the cloudless black sky. She found her brother quickly, deep in conversation with a couple of soldiers by the gate. He spotted her as quickly as she appeared. Dismissing the soldiers, he stalked to her spot across the road and yanked her further back into the shadows.

“What are you doing out here?” he demanded, eyeing her lack of proper dress. “Is everything okay? Is Tilda hurt?”

“No, no,” she answered quickly. She swallowed thickly, starting to feel foolish. “I couldn’t sleep and I had weird feeling, so I wanted to check on you. Are you okay?”

Bain looked utterly exasperated, but he didn’t say so. “Everyone is fine, Sigrid. Go home and go back to bed. Hurry. Before anyone sees you dressed like that.”

Sigrid made a face at him. Bain glowered and turned back towards the gate. Sigrid stood and watched him a moment as he struck up conversations with the men again.

She was just beginning to loosen her hold on the knife in her pocket when an arrow lodged into the chest of the soldier in front of Bain.

Sigrid screamed as the body fell.

Shouts filled the air. Swords were drawn. Dark shapes burst through the gate and appeared over the wall. Growling and snarling with mangled mouths that were filled with broken teeth. Sigrid only stared as one of them shoved their jagged sword through the gut of a soldier as the same time their mouth descended on his neck, ripping out a chunk of flesh.

Orcs.

A body collided into her, ripping her focus from the gore to the figure shouting in her face with wide, fearful eyes. Her father’s eyes. Bain.

“Sigrid!” He bellowed. The grip he had on her arm was painful. A horn blew from somewhere behind him. Another answered it. Someone screamed. From far off in the distance, the bell tower thundered through the air. “Get Tilda! Send everyone to the mountain!”

More snarling. They both looked behind Bain as another soldier fell. Bain drew his sword.

“Go!”

Sigrid tried to come up with something to yell after her brother as he threw himself into the mass of fighting bodies, but her mind had lost all capacity to form words. Metal meeting metal rang in her ears and every fiber in her body went into high alert.

Tilda.

Sigrid broke into a sprint. The city was no longer dark. It was alive with screams and firelights. Somewhere on her right, a rooftop burst into flames. The streets were no longer deserted. Bodies, some screaming townspeople others snarling orcs, filled every path.

They had not just used the southern gate. They were everywhere.

She slipped, colliding with the ground with a painful amount of force. Whirling on the spot, she found her feet covered in blood. Not her own. A woman lay just a few feet away, her lifeless eyes staring up at moonless night. Sigrid had just visited her stand in the market the day prior.

Her throat was gone.

Sigrid scrambled to her feet, shedding her blood splattered dressing gown. Fili’s knife stayed tight in her grasp.

Another house erupted in flames. More screams pierced her ears.

Suddenly, a jagged weapon swung out of the darkness beside her. Sigrid fell sideways, missing the metal by inches but listening as it made a sickening crunch into someone else. There was no time to look at who. As she fell on the ground, an armored orc with a twisted mouth jumped to her.

She was too slow. They were too fast. But she thrusted the knife up on instinct and giving out a shout of exertion-

The orcs sword caught on a fallen post behind her head, a mere second before Fili’s knife embedded into their ribcage.

Black blood splattered down her nightdress as the orc let out a strangled cry before turning into dead weight above her. Sigrid scampered away from underneath the body, ripping the knife out with slight difficulty.

Screams. Fire.

She couldn’t think straight.

Tilda. She had to get to Tilda.

Pushing down the urge to vomit, Sigrid began running once more. Soldiers, orcs, and screaming townspeople were everywhere. There were cries for help, shouting to run to the mountain for safety, screams of pain…Sigrid was drowning in it all.

Rounding a corner, she screamed again. An orc swung their sword. She ducked and the metal clanged loudly on the stone house next to her. A clawed, black hand locked around her upper arm and yanked.

The pain was instant. Hot, searing pain shot through Sigrid’s shoulder and radiated down her arm as the orc brought her back to her feet. She couldn’t raise her arm. It wouldn’t work. The pain was so intense tears sprung in her eyes. The orc raised its sword and snarled-.

The burning roof next to them crumpled. Stone fell. A thick, wooden beam slid, crushing the orc with the full force of its fall. Sigrid was knocked backwards as it tumbled sideways. The pain in her shoulder exploded and she cried out as her back hit the house. The knife fell to the ground beside her.

Everything stopped moving. Sigrid breathed shakily and took a careful look around. The wooden beam was planted securely over one of her legs, pinning it painfully to the ground. With her back braced against the stone wall, Sigrid grimaced as she tried to wiggle out. Nothing budged. She couldn’t shove it away. Whatever the orc had done to her shoulder and rendered her arm useless, and she held it against her blood-soaked chest pathetically.

She had to get out. She had to reach Tilda. She had to-.

Sigrid froze. On rooftop across the road, ignited by the orange glow of nearby fires, an orc spotted her. Ice flooded her veins as she watched the small head tilt as they took her in. Trapped. Helpless. They unslung the bow from their back.

Sigrid yanked on her legs, but still nothing moved.

They loaded their arrow and aimed.

Sigrid gasped. Appearing in front of her, his dual swords covered in black blood, was Fili. An arm braced above her head. She was instantly face-to-face with him as he sunk in front of her. Beads of sweat dotted his face. His mouth twisted into such hostility she nearly didn’t recognize him.

He cursed as the sound of an arrow sinking into his back echoed in her ears.

Every thought fell from her mind. Sigrid could only stare into his impossibly blue eyes as the smallest hint of pain crossed his face. Her fingers covered her mouth as unmeasurable horror filled her.

“Fili?” she whispered. Her voice cracked.

His arm stayed braced above her head as Kili appeared beside them, firing a single arrow to the rooftop. Sigrid didn’t need to look to know it found its mark.

Fili dropped his arm, allowing Sigrid to see the black wood sticking from the top of his shoulder.

“Are you hurt?” he demanded, his breathing heavy.

“Just my arm.” She looked quickly to Kili as he shouldered his bow, drawing out his sword instead. It too bore evidence of their fight through the city. There was no laughter in his features. No light. “Tilda. Tilda is in the house-.”

Kili didn’t need to be told anything further. Giving a quick nod of understanding, he disappeared as quickly as he appeared.

“Fili,” she repeated, in the same terrifying whisper. “The arrow-.”

He turned, bracing his fists against the beam that had her trapped. “Pull it out. All at once.”

“But-.”

“Now,” he ordered, though gritted teeth. “Quickly.”

Using her good hand, Sigrid gripped the base of arrow as close to his skin as possible. Swallowing the nausea rising in her stomach, she put all her effort into a single, sharp tug. Blood splattered and Fili cursed, but the arrow was out in one piece. Sigrid caught sight of crimson stained end and immediately let the wretched thing fall to the ground.

Fili had already sheathed a sword, using his free hand to grip the bottom of the beam and lift. His teeth gritted, but she slowly felt the weight change on her leg and Sigrid dragged herself out from underneath. Her arm shook and she bit back a cry of pain.

“You need to wrap your wound,” she said breathlessly through the pain. Screams tore from across the city. “Fili, your shoulder-.”

“Later,” was all he said as he brought her to her feet with surprising gentleness. She grabbed the knife she’d dropped. He unsheathed the second sword again. The blood stain on the back of his shirt grew, but he didn’t say a word about the pain. “We’re going to wait here for Kili and Tilda and then we’re getting you and your sister to the mountain. You’re not to do anything but help get your sister there. Do you understand?”

She nodded. There was no use in arguing. The pain in her shoulder was so intense she thought she might faint. Besides, she doubted Fili was in the mood to argue back. She’d had never seen him angrier looking nor wielding his weapons. The orcs in her house all those months ago had been killed by Tauriel and her friend. It seemed silly to think such a thing, surrounded by a nightmare, but she had never seen anything more beautiful than he did in that moment.

It must have been the pain messing with her.

Chapter Text

 Shouting.

So much shouting. The massive entrance hall of Erebor was filled with the inhabitants of Dale and dwarves. There were crying children. Screams for loved ones. Most were still in their night clothes. Some were splattered with blood. A few were being carried. It was so strikingly similar to the events a year prior that she kept expecting to see the shadow of a dragon overhead.

Sigrid had been half-dragged through the mass just moments earlier. Every noise echoed painfully in her head. The intense pain radiating from her shoulder was clouding her mind and she was finding it increasingly difficult to focus on what was going on around her. Had it not been for Fili’s strong arm braced tightly around her waist, she wasn’t even sure if she’d be upright at all.

Fili still brandished his sword, as did many other dwarves who ran to Dale when they heard the bells sound in alarm. Sigrid tried to catch glimpses of the faces in the crowd, but she wasn’t registering any of them.

“I want to know where they came from!” The thunderous voice boomed over all else. The king had joined them as soon as they entered the hall. “How in the name of Durin did we allow an orc attack on the city?”

“Tauriel is tracking the pack now.” She could hear Kili addressing his fuming uncle. He still brandished his sword as well, but his other arm was fully carrying her sister. Tilda had not moved from her current position, with her face hidden in Kili’s shoulder and her arms thrown around his neck, since he appeared with her in Dale. He’d carried her like that all the way to the mountain.

“I-I need to find my brother,” Sigrid demanded to no one in particular. It came out a little breathlessly. “Bain-.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Fili interrupted, his voice dangerously low. Taking care to not jostle her shoulder, he forced her sit off to the side of the nearest staircase. There was instant relief once she was sitting. Her head wasn’t spinning nearly as bad. “You’ve got an arm ripped out of place and you’re barely standing.”

“Bain is fine.” Kili appeared in her line of vision. There were splatters of dark blood on him as well. Some of it was smearing on her sister’s nightdress. “He and the rest of the men are scouting Dale now.”

Scouting the city. That meant they were checking to make sure the danger was gone. Assess the damage. Check for the dead.

There were suddenly too many children crying for their mothers. Too many crimson stains on the clothing. The king’s shouts echoed in her head. How had they allowed such a thing to happen? Her siblings may have made it out, but what about the people of the Dale? Her people? The woman with her throat ripped out. Her dried blood still covered Sigrid’s feet.

“Everyone needs help.” The words didn’t come out as forceful as she had hoped.

“Stop worrying about everyone else,” Fili told her sharply, ignoring the mass of chaos behind them. The king had stopped shouting for the moment, conversing heatedly with a small group that had been in Sigrid’s home a year ago.

Sheathing his sword, Fili knelt in front of her and for the first time since an arrow lodged itself into his back, Sigrid looked him over. The thin mouth and line between his brows. Stiff jaw. The arm of his shirt soaked red. “Hand me the knife.”

She blinked. “What?”

“The knife.” His voice had lost some of its edge. He nodded to where she was clutching her injured arm. “Sigrid, hand me the knife.”

She hadn’t even realized her hand was still enclosed on the small weapon. With trembling fingers, she raised it up to him. Fili’s fingers overlapped hers, prying her fingers carefully off the handle before quickly stashing it away. With a softness that didn’t match the dangerous look on his face, he held the wrist of her injured arm. Sigrid whimpered and he froze.

“Kili, get over here and help me set her arm!”

His brother tried to set her sister down, but Sigrid could see Tilda’s small knuckles turn white from where they were gripping the dwarven prince. Kili was saying something to her, gently and too quiet for her to pick up but whatever it was it couldn’t persuade her to let go.

Fighting through the crowd, the dwarf woman she’d gotten glimpses of inside the mountain during the celebrations appeared. She had the same look as everyone else; confusion, mixed with anger and fear. Sigrid watched as her eyes took in Sigrid crumpled on the bottom of steps in nothing but a black-sodden nightdress, her eldest son kneeling above her covered in his own blood, then finally her sister clutching Kili as if her life depended on it. The anger etched on her features melted and Sigrid could see the mother in her come to surface.

“Oh, you sweet dear. Come here.” The dwarrowdam hurried to Kili and, to Sigrid’s surprise, was able to coax her sister out of his grasp. “Poor child.”

Sigrid was vaguely aware of Tilda being steered away from the shouting and chaos, but Kili had appeared in front of her, taking her injured arm from Fili. Pain shot through her. Gritting her teeth as a stray tear fell, she hardly noticed that Fili had situated himself behind her, wrapping both arms around her torso. His chest was flushed with her back, but it wasn’t overly comforting. In fact, it felt like he was bracing himself for a heavy blow. Sigrid was about to ask what was happening, when Kili straightened her arm out. She didn’t like the look on his face. Serious and concentrating. When he caught her looking, he almost looked apologetic.

“Why don’t you give her something to bite on?”

One of Fili’s arms disappeared, and she felt him unwinding his belt. A second later, he had the strip of leather presented in front of her. She frowned, looking at Kili who was still holding her painful arm out in front of her.

Realization sunk in.

“Oh, gods,” she whimpered quietly. Had she not been in so much pain, she would have been embarrassed about how pathetic she sounded.

“Try not to move.” Fili’s voice was close to her ear. There was an odd break in it, like he was in pain himself. “We’ll risk breaking it.”

Sigrid nodded limply, before biting firmly on the leather belt. Closing her eyes, she tried to breathe in deeply through her nose. More tears fell as Kili lined her arm out and she failed miserably at keeping the sounds of pain from escaping. Fili was whispering something into her hair, words spoken so softly she couldn’t make them out amongst the noise of the entrance hall. She leaned her head slightly, letting her temple rest against the rough hair on the side of his jaw.

With no warning, Kili applied pressure and Sigrid’s world was nothing but white, blinding pain.

***

There was no more shouting. No more cries. The pain had shifted from all-consuming to a dull throbbing and through the fogginess in her head, Sigrid felt warmth. Comfortable. Her thoughts drifted to that morning just a few days prior, slowly awaking on that small outcropping of moss-covered rock.

There was a strange swaying motion. Her head lolled and a scratchy jaw brushed against her forehead.

“Fili?”  Her voice sounded…disgusting. Hoarse. Opening her eyes felt like too much work, so she settled for raising a shaking hand and securing it tightly in his shirt. She could feel the thudding of his heart beneath her fingers. “What-what happened?”

“You passed out.” She shifted slightly in his arms. There was a groan, then the sound of a door slamming. “I’m going to leave you here to rest-.”

“No. No rest.” She fought against the fog, raising her head and slowly opening her eyes. They were in someone’s private chambers. A large fire was roaring in the hearth, surrounded by comfortable-looking lounges and chairs. “I need to get back to Tilda and find Amabel-.”

“You’re staying here.” Fili unceremoniously dumped her onto the nearest lounge. Sigrid glared, yanking the hem of her dirty night dress to cover her tucked legs. “My mother is just in the other room with Tilda, trying to get her to sleep. As for your handmaiden, if she had any sense and hid then she’s fine. Kili said they hadn’t gone in your house.”

Sigrid nodded. Amabel was smart. Surely, she’d turn up once the chaos died down. With her mind far less foggy than it had been before, Sigrid glanced up at Fili and took in his appearance. The knife he’d given her, then taken away, strapped to his hip. Beads in his beard shining in the firelight. Streaks of dirt and blood on his face. His eyes were watching her too. Eyes that had bore into her own as took the arrow destined for her.

“Where’s your brother now?”

“Filling Thorin in. I should go join them.”

She eyed his bloody shirt. “Would you let me look at your shoulder first?”

Fili swallowed thickly, his eyes shifting to one of the heavy doors, before shaking his head. “I really should go. We shouldn’t be alone like this.”

Sigrid frowned. “I thought your mother was here?”

“She is, but-.”

“Then sit and I don’t want to hear any nonsense about how much more durable and hardy dwarves are from men. I had to watch Kili nearly die on my kitchen table once from an arrow.”

Fili seemed to be looking for an argument and just when Sigrid thought he had found one, he sighed deeply, before seating himself next to her. He grabbed the neck of his tunic and pulled it over his head. “Kili was hit with a Morgul shaft. This was nothing but an ordinary arrow.”

“An ordinary arrow that would have killed me.” Sigrid was glad he wasn’t facing her. The wound from the arrow was mangled and swollen. Blood, some dried and some still wet, covered that side of his back, as well as a good portion of his arm. She’d seen much worse after the battle, but sight of the torn open flesh still made her stomach turn. “Is there something I can clean this with?”

He motioned to a shelf near the fire and Sigrid left for only a moment to retrieve the wooden bowl of water, clean rags, and bandages. She busied herself with cleaning the blood down on his arm and back first. Her scrubbing revealed imprints black ink that decorated his skin that she had never seen before and although she was craving to know what they represented, she did not comment on them. Nor did she comment on the uncountable scars that littered his body. There was one in particular that was much larger than the others. It was a jagged, thick line of raised skin that ran up the length of his back, to the base of his neck.

Sigrid looked at that scar and the tale she hated so much from Ravenhill echoed in the back of her mind.

“How’s your arm?”

“A little sore,” she admitted. “But eons better than what it felt like before. Whatever you two did, I think you did it correctly. Thank you.”

His eyes were fixed on the fire in front of them. “What happened to it?”

“An orc grabbed me.” She wiped carefully along the edge of the wound. The muscles under her fingertips flexed, but she wasn’t sure it was from pain. “I wish I could say I killed it, but I didn’t. Not that one. There was one before, though, that I did get. It was with your knife, too.”

“I figured.” He broke his gaze with the hearth to nod to the front of her black-sodden night dress. “You did very good, Sigrid.”

She flushed. “Hardly. I’m not the one who saved any lives tonight.”

“You saved anyone that orc would have killed after you,” he disputed firmly. “And yourself. Believe me, I am very thankful you took care of yourself until I could find you.”

“You were looking for me?”

He had been watching the flames again but turned to look at her at the question. Sigrid didn’t remove her hands from his skin but froze as his face appeared impossibly close to hers. Closer than when they had danced and he’d held her tightly against him. Sigrid was suddenly painfully aware of their present situation; herself dressed in nothing but a torn and grimy night dress, her hands pressed against his bare skin. Sitting so closely that she could feel the heat coming from his breath. Sigrid blushed again but couldn’t bear to break their gaze. She couldn’t read what was going through his mind. His eyes shifted quickly downwards, then back to her face and she swore she saw every muscle in his jaw tighten.

Like a blade slicing across a taut rope, he whipped his head back to the flames, rolling his shoulders and failing at hiding a wince.

Disappointment swirled in her stomach. She slowly began cleaning the wound again.

“Of course I was looking for you. I knew you’d do something stupid like try to help people.” Sigrid’s lips twitched. “And I was right.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I was already out of the house. I wanted to check on Bain and that’s when they attacked. You should know me better than to think I would have left Tilda alone with orcs around,” she teased, lightly. “But I am still thankful you found me. Although I could do with getting the imagery out of my head.”

“What imagery?”

She unwound a clean bandage, slowly wrapping it under his arm and around his shoulder before answering in a quiet voice. “You. In front of me like that.”

Fili looked at her over his newly bandaged shoulder. His eyes didn’t hold any cheerful glow, but his mouth was quirked. “You didn’t like the sight of me knelt in front of you?”

“Stop,” she ordered quietly, fighting against a growing tightness in her throat. “Don’t make fun of me. You know what I meant. For a moment there, I thought you were going to die. Right there in front of me. I’m never going to get that image out of my head.”

A hand appeared atop her cloth covered knee. Sigrid felt betraying tears fill her eyes, but they thankfully didn’t spill over.

“I know I am going to relive that moment over and over,” she continued. “And it’s going to kill me each time.”

The hand that wasn’t on her knee tucked itself along the side of her face. Heat sparked from everywhere his skin touched hers, flickering through her body. It pooled low in her stomach and curled in her toes and Sigrid was momentarily overwhelmed at the unfamiliar rush. Fingers wove into the hair at the base of her scalp and the callused thumb on her cheek forced her face to look at his own.

“If you’re wanting an apology for saving your life, you’re not getting one.”

She could hardly draw in a proper breath. Everything about what was happening was wrong. His hands shouldn’t have been on her. But Sigrid couldn’t bring herself to care and that was what bothered her the most. Why didn’t she care there was so little space between them, it would only take the smallest of movements to close the distance? The heat pooling in her stomach raged with something she’d never felt before: wanting.

An overwhelming, unfamiliar feeling of want.

“I don’t need an apology,” she breathed. “Just a promise you won’t do it again.”

“You’re not getting that either.”

Sigrid wasn’t sure what was happening. The heat grew. Her skin seemed to be on fire. As the feeling of want grew, her very mind seemed to shut down. She was aware of nothing but fingers tightening in her hair, forcing her head to angle back as she closed her eyes instinctively-.

A door opened from somewhere behind them. Every ounce of warmth was immediately extinguished. The weight from the hand on her knee vanished as the other pulled itself from her hair. Sigrid whirled, looking behind her as Fili’s mother took care to shut the door she’d emerged from as quietly as possible.

“I thought I heard you two out here.” Her voice was loud and authoritative. It had lost the motherly softness that had been directed to Tilda in the entrance hall and had been replaced with something much firmer in the presence of her eldest son. “The little one is finally asleep. That, or she’s just pretending so I’d leave her alone. Either way, she’s safe in bed.”

“Th-thank you,” Sigrid stammered. Her voice was much too high. Daring to glance at Fili, she was pleased to see he’d not only risen and moved as far away as possible in the few seconds but had shrugged his tunic back on. He was pointedly not looking at her. “I’m sorry for intruding-.”

“Nonsense. I asked for you to be brought here.” Her eyes were kind, but there was a noticeable sharpness when they fixated on her son. “You’ve seen to her arm?”

“Yes, but-.”

“Wonderful. Leave us.”  She gestured impatiently to the door. Fili frowned, an argument appearing on his lips, but she stopped him with a raised finger. “Now. You are far more useful out there than you are in here.”

For a split second, he locked eyes with Sigrid and her breath caught as he hastily approached. Under his mother’s shrewd gaze, he offered Sigrid his knife for a second time.

“I only took it because I thought you might stab me when Kili set your arm. Keep it on you.”

She nodded as she took it from him and without another word, he left. Sigrid wasn’t given time to miss his absence or to ponder what in the world was about to happen between them. The moment the door shut behind him, his mother was in her element. Holding Sigrid’s chin in a firm grasp, she moved it gently side to side. Her eyes were dark like Kili’s. “How are you, my dear? Are you hurt anywhere?”

“No, not badly.”

“Let’s get you cleaned up, then.” The dwarf women let go of her chin to grasp her wrists, pulling her to her feet. She made a noise of displeasure at sight of Sigrid’s nightdress. “Cursed creatures. I hope our people slaughtered them. Every one.”

Sigrid hoped so too. She allowed herself to be led through one of the wooden doors and down a short hallway. Candles illuminated the dark walls of stone.

“Forgive me for not introducing myself. My name is Dis. Sister to the King.”

“I saw you at the celebrations. I’m-.”

“I am well aware of who you and your sister are.” Dis led her to a bathing chamber. A fire was already lit in the corner, basking the small room in warmth. “Your father and my brother have quite the strained relationship.”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

Dis grinned, the smile tugging on the small tuffs of dark facial hair that lined her plump cheeks, as she filled the tub with steaming water. Sigrid shivered, glancing down at herself. One of her legs was blossoming with heavy bruises and blood, both deep red and black, splattered her gown and skin. The dwarrowdam motioned for Sigrid to remove the tattered piece of clothing she wore and, pushing away any embarrassment, Sigrid did so before slipping into the hot water.

She couldn’t help the sigh of relief that escaped her lips.

“My boys are quite fond of you and your sister.”

Sigrid did not meet the woman’s eye as she handed her a rag to wash with. “Yes, unfortunately Tilda has Kili completely wrapped around her finger.”

Dis laughed, a low sound that reverberated off the chamber’s walls. While Sigrid scrubbed the dirt and blood from her skin, she watched the dwarf women move about the room. The firelight in her dark hair was so strikingly similar to her youngest son.  

“He looks just like you,” she commented. “Kili, I mean.”

“Aye, he does,” his mother smiled. She poured a strong-smelling perfume into the bath. “He acts like his father though. Not an ounce of reserve in that boy. I’ve always said the greatest gift my boys gave me was the ability to not forget their father. Kili is just as reckless as he was and Fili, well he looks just like him. With the two of them running around, I’ll never be able to forget him.”

Sigrid paused in her washing. “Fili looks like his father?”

“Very much so. They could be twins.”

Sigrid had never given much thought to Fili’s father. He’d never been mentioned. During their long talks they had back in the warmer months, before he’d left to hunt orcs, Fili only mentioned his mother returning to the mountain and she had enough tact to not ask.

“My sister and I don’t look very much like our father. Sometimes I start to forget what my mother looked like, but everyone tells me we look like her. He told me once, that it can be painful when he looks at us.”

“Your mother must have been quite a beauty, then.” Dis handed her another rag. The first had grown dark with grime. “I’d heard talk of your looks, but I didn’t believe it for myself until I saw you last week. Then, I understood.”

Sigrid looked to her questioningly. “Understood what?”

Her question was ignored. Dis continued to keep herself busy as Sigrid rubbed her skin raw. Cleaning away the dirt allowed Sigrid to see the bruises and small cuts that littered her body. Noone were overly painful. Even the soreness in her arm was easy to ignore. It wasn’t long until she felt refreshed. More like herself.

“I’ll send for one of the healers to inspect your arm,” Dis informed her as she helped her into a dress of simple make. “I doubt Fili will have his injuries checked over. He’ll likely ignore them until they fester and cause his arm to fall off.”

“I cleaned it and wrapped it for him. I’m not sure how much good it’ll do if he doesn’t get it stitched though.”

Dis eyed her carefully. “You have much experience with healing?”

“No, not at all,” she quickly shook her head. “I spent weeks after the battle taking care of the injured though. I never knew what I was doing. Just following directions from Tauriel.”

“Hm, smart girl following orders from that elf.” Dis almost looked proud. “I’ll admit, I had my doubts about her, but she’s good for my Kili. A good head on her shoulders. Wise. She reigns him in, I think. Provides his life with balance that he didn’t have before.”

Sigrid smiled. “I never knew him before Tauriel was in his life, but I can see that being true.”

“Fili used to be like that too. Not as reckless, but more carefree. You wouldn’t believe the trouble they used to get into. He’s carried a great burden this last year, though. I think realizing he’s going to king one day has sunk in. It is a challenging life to look forward to.” Dis looked at her pointedly. “I suppose you know exactly what I mean. I hear your father was a mere bargeman and now you’re destined to marry a great lord. Quite the change.”

Her smile faltered. “Yes, it is.”

“That must be why you make such good friends.”

Good friends. Sigrid didn’t say anything. She couldn’t say anything, because she was very certain whatever was happening between them wasn’t the making of good friends.

***

Fili’s shoulder really fucking hurt.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting in the meeting. It was hard to gauge what time it was. There was no clock in his immediate view and if Thorin caught him trying to peer around for one, he’d likely get yelled at. He kept periodically tuning out the conversations around him and it made him have no concept of how much time had passed.

All he knew was that his shoulder really fucking hurt and he wanted to be anywhere but seated at Thorin’s great table, dwarves shouting and yelling all around him.

If he were being really honest with himself, the place he’d most like to be involved his hands getting tangled in fawn colored hair, but he couldn’t let himself dwell too much on that. He wasn’t supposed to want her. He wasn’t supposed to wind his hands through her silken hair and imagine the noises she would make if he placed his lips on the pulse point of her neck. He couldn’t picture that hair fanned out over his pillow, his own name coming from her. He couldn’t think of her smile or the wide, terrified look in her eyes when he appeared in front of her.

He couldn’t-couldn’t-think of the way her eyes had welled with years when she spoke of his death because it gave him the slightest inkling that she wanted him too.

No. He couldn’t want that.

With wanting not allowed, it was much easier to focus on anger. Anger at the pain in his shoulder. Anger at his comrades who he did truly like but didn’t seem capable of communicating anything at a normal volume. Anger that an orc pack had the nerve to initiate an attack on their doorstep. Anger that he didn’t get to personally crush the skull of the one who ripped Sigrid’s arm out of its socket. Anger at himself for being alone with her when he knew better.

Anger that he couldn’t get the feel of her hair winding through his fingers out of his mind for one fucking second when he wasn’t supposed to want her at all.

“I just don’t understand what their motive was,” Balin finally said, loud enough that the surrounding chatter at the table died down. It came out in a huff of exasperation. “They had to have known an attack on the city would have only ended in defeat.”

“The orcs had the element surprise,” Dwalin argued from his spot across from Fili. “And a moonless night. They thought it would be enough to take Dale.”

“No, they weren’t trying to take the city.” Thorin spoke from the head of the table, a fire roaring behind him. Fili might have been angry, but it was nothing compared to the fury that enraged his uncle when he found out orcs staged an attack right outside their kingdom. After leaving Sigrid, he’d found his uncle had called those he trusted most to discuss the attack. “Lord Bard’s house was untouched. His children are unharmed?”

Fili only gave a slow nod, while Kili spoke up. “His son is taking care of the city now as we speak. The girls are still in mountain.”

“Good,” Thorin gave a nod of approval. “That was wise of you two to bring them here. The slaughtering of my strongest ally’s children wouldn’t have been good for us. We’ll be able to send word to Bard that girls were unharmed, thanks to you both.”

Kili shot a sideways look to Fili, but neither said a word. It had been nothing but pure luck that the two of them had been passing by the great gates of Erebor after a bit of late night sparring when the bells from Dale could be heard thundering across the rocky terrain. They hadn’t shared a word then either, only taking off sprinting simultaneously towards the screams. He hadn’t been thinking of allies and political advantages at the time and he was confident Kili hadn’t been either.

His mind had been filled with sheer, raw panic. Images had flashed across his vision as he ran. A head tucked under his arm on a mossy boulder in the autumn sun. A waist clasped in his hand as she barreled into him on the edge of a dance floor. Fawn colored hair.

“Thorin.” Bilbo, who’s seat was seated closest to his uncle gave him a disapproving glare. “There are several dwarves at this table that call those girls’ friends. Speaking about their lives as if they’re nothing more than a couple of pawns in a game of chess-.”

“Friendships or not we are all pawns in this game Azog is playing.” Thorin’s voice thundered over the table. “Had something happened to them when we had the means prevent it, I imagine we’d not only be at war with the orcs but Dale as well. Our need for allies is too great.”

Bilbo glanced down the table to all the eyes turned their way. “If we’re in need of allies, can we not look to the Greenwood?”

There was a general noise of disgust from around the table. Thranduil hadn’t been seen nor heard of since he departed the battle with his remaining kin and not a single one of them at the table wished to change that. Kili’s face twisted into a quiet disgust, but it wasn’t for the same reason as everyone else’s.

Fili figured if Sigrid’s family banished her from the only home she’d ever known, he wouldn’t like them either.

“I’ll hear no more talk of the woodland elves. A treaty with them is not necessary. Not with our kin in the Iron Hills and Bard’s daughter choosing a suitor soon. If our ties with Dale remains strong, their allies will be ours.” Fili’s stomach flipped, but he remained silent. There was a murmur of agreement around the table, although Bilbo didn’t look convinced. “Now again I ask, what in Mahal’s name were orcs doing in Dale?”

“It’s likely there was no motive at all,” Fili answered gruffly. “Azog sent in a few of his warriors to cause some trouble and taunt you.”

There was a chorus of grumbling agreement. Thorin pondered a moment, looking around the table at them all. “You said Tauriel is tracking the pack?”

Kili nodded. Fili knew his brother would much rather be accompanying her than sitting in a meeting, but making sure Tilda arrived safely to the mountain had taken a higher priority.

“I want you all helping Dale in any way you can while we wait for Lord Bard’s return and if you hear any new information, I need to know,” Thorin commanded. “And when the she-elf returns, I’m to be told immediately.”

The finality in his uncle’s tone let them know they were dismissed. Fili shoved away from the table, a pain groan escaping when his shoulder resisted the movement, and left the room before anyone could stop him. Moving quickly down the stone hallway, he hadn’t even made it to the flight of stairs when he heard someone hurrying behind him.

“You’re off in a hurry,” Kili panted, falling into step with him. “Off to go check on the beautiful Lady of Dale?”

Fili didn’t say a word.

“I’ll be honest, I really thought it might have just been a short-lived infatuation going on with you two. And when you left to go North, it was just a coincidence that’s when the talk of her suitors started. I didn’t make the connection between your awful mood and Sigrid until I saw the way you glared daggers at that poor Thaddeus fellow-.”

“Kili, shut up.”

“But what really sealed the deal for me was the way you ran to Dale. I don’t think I’ve ever seen your face like that. You weren’t even bothering to help people or go where the fighting was the worst. You were just moving as fast as possible. I could barely keep up with you. I kept wondering what the devil you were doing and then we saw her down the road and you took that arrow without hesitating. That’s when I realized you were looking for her.” He could feel Kili’s eyes boring into him as they moved down a large set of steps, but Fili refused to look at him. “You’ve got to say something, Fili.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

They rounded another set of steps. Across the hall, Fili could see the gates of the kingdom. A gray light was filtering through the open doors. It was dawn, but the entrance hall was busier than normal so early in the morning. A few inhabitants from Dale remained and dwarves, awoken from the night’s incident, were helping where they could.

Fili set a quick pace for the gates, but Kili was on his heels. “If you don’t say anything, she’s going to be sent off to marry some strange lord-.”

“Good!” Fili hissed, over his shoulder. “That’s what she should do. That’s what she wants to do.”

“You know she’s only going along with it because it’s what’s expected of her.” Kili spoke in hushed tone, but it was laced with annoyance. “If she were given a choice, she would pick you any day.”

“You don’t know that.” Fili swallowed thickly. Every part of him wished that were true. He craved to have the assurance that Sigrid wanted him as badly as he wanted her. “And even if she did, I couldn’t ask that of her. She’d have to live under the mountain-.”

“Tauriel makes do just fine.”

“-and be its queen one day.”

“Sigrid would be a fine queen.” Kili grabbed his arm. Pain shot through his shoulder and he gritted his teeth as he stopped to face his brother. “And you know she would be.”

Fili leaned in so there was no chance his words would be overheard. “Thorin has one nephew who married an elf and vowed not to sire any children. Do you really think he’d let me marry whoever I wanted?”

He could see in his brother’s eyes that Kili knew the answer. There was a visible drop in Kili’s shoulder and Fili watched as his features turned from the headstrong annoyance he’d grown up with to pity.

“Don’t speak to anyone about this,” he continued in quiet harshness. “I’m serious Kili.”

“Ah, just the two boys I was searching for.” The voice of their mother came from a nearby staircase. They turned together to watch her, and timid looking Tilda, walk towards them. Tilda’s nightdress had been replaced with a dress of simple make and she looked considerably more stable than she had been several hours earlier. “What are you two squabbling about?”

“Nothing,” Fili answered quickly, taking a step back from his brother. “Tilda, the sun is barely up. You should still be resting.”

The little girl frowned, but it was his mother who answered firmly for her. “She’s ready to be returned to her sister. Nothing I said could convince her to stay awhile. I’m assuming you’re both off to Dale and can be an escort?”

“I left Sigrid upstairs to rest.” Fili gave his mother a sharp look. “Why is she in Dale?”

“Lady Sigrid decided her people needed her too much to waste time resting. She thought a good leader should be out on the city streets, handling the mess themselves,” his mother answered as she returned the look he gave her. But there was something else in her voice. Almost a hint of pride. “She left shortly after cleaning herself up. And before you get yourself all worked up, I had Oin look at her arm before she departed. You should have seen her. She strapped that knife of yours to her side and had such a stubbornness about her I could hardly deny her.”

“Oh, she’s got your knife now, too?”

Fili didn’t dare look at Kili. He could practically hear the smirk etched on his face. Reaching out for Tilda, he took her gently by the hand and started to lead her out the gates.

Chapter Text

“I really must insist-.”

“No.” Sigrid dumped another pail of icy water over the blood splatters on the wall. After tossing the pail to Amabel, who quickly departed to grab another, she gritted her teeth as she began to scrub the dark stain from the side of the blacksmith’s house. A soreness burned deep in her arm, but it wasn’t so bad she couldn’t ignore it. “They’re starting a fire outside of the western gate to burn the bodies. May I suggest you go help with that?”

Bifur and Bombur shared a look, before Bofur waved the unraveled cloth in the air. “I know for a fact Oin said for you to wear this-.”

“And I know for a fact, it would make my work here nearly impossible without the use of one of my arms so I will have to deny his suggestion.” She let out a heavy breath of air as she scrubbed. “I really do appreciate you all coming down here to help, but please go find something productive to do.”

She heard Bofur scoff behind her. It was barely dawn, but the streets of Dale were crowded. Bodies, some destined to be burned and others to be buried, were being carried away. Splintered wood was being swept away from the streets and the charred remains of homes were being searched. Like Sigrid, others were trying to clean the evidence of the violence that had taken place. Others did nothing. Simply stood together, huddled. Crying. She did not blame them.

“You have got to be one of the most stubborn young ladies I’ve ever encountered,” Bofur exclaimed from behind her. In another circumstance, Sigrid might have grinned. “Oh, thank Mahal. Finally, someone that can talk some sense into her. Would you get over here and tell her to put this thing on? Oin is going to blame me if she ends up making her arm worse.”

Sigrid glanced over her shoulder to see who Bofur was addressing and the brush she was holding fell from her fingers. Fili stalked through the crowded street. He’d replaced his blood-stained shirt, but he was still dressed in his leathers. The torchlight flickered brightly on the blonde braids, illuminating the lone beads, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away his face. It was set hard as stone, staring right at her.

Without breaking eye contact with her, he ripped the cloth from Bofur’s grasp and marched right in front of her. He grabbed her wrist; his fingers searing on her skin and angled her arm to lay cross her middle.

“This.”

Looping the cloth underneath her elbow, he was forced closer as he brought the ends to meet at her shoulder. Her breath caught in her throat as his face approached hers, but when she went to move, Sigrid’s head met the stone wall behind her.

“Stays.”

Fili tied the ends into an impossibly tight knot that rested by her neck. As the sling took the weight of her arm, the soreness faded almost instantaneously.

“On.”

Sigrid glowered. “I have work to do. I’ll leave it on for a couple hours to appease everyone, but there’s too much to be done for my arm to be like this.”

Fili matched her glare. Sigrid noted Bofur yanking Bombur along the path with a worried expression cast their way. Bifur was behind them. Traitors.

“You’re already out here when I told you to rest.” He leaned in so close, she could catch scents of leather and sweat coming from him. “Don’t let me see you take that off before you’re supposed to.”

“Fine.” She wasn’t feeling particularly brave, not with the heated stare Fili had settled on her, but she couldn’t let him know that. “I won’t let you see.”

His mustache twitched, but Sigrid didn’t get a response from him. From the same direction he’d come from, there was a shriek. They turned to see Tilda hurrying towards her. Kili was close behind her.

Sigrid frowned. “Why isn’t she in the mountain? I left her with your mother.”

“It would seem she’s as stubborn as you are,” Fili deadpanned. “I was bringing her this way, but she caught sight of Bain by the gate.”

Sigrid didn’t like that. She didn’t want Tilda witnessing more than she had to. She discreetly took a step sideways to cover the blood-stained wall as her sister ran towards her and threw her arms around her middle.

“Easy there. Your sister is damaged goods,” Kili warned Tilda. Sigrid shot him a look as she smoothed down her sister’s hair, but was happy to note the teasing light had returned to his eyes. “Only joking. Glad to see you fully conscious.”

“I suppose I should be thanking you.”

“Not necessary,” he grinned cheekily. “You know me. Always happy to save the day.”

Sigrid resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Amabel had approached with a fresh pail of water, eyeing the two dwarven princes. Prying her sister’s arm from a round herself, she squatted to meet her eye level. Tilda’s eyes were wide, with deep circles underneath them. The sight made Sigrid’s chest hurt. “I want you to go back to the house with Amabel.”

“But-.”

“No arguments.” She caught Amabel’s eye, and her handmaiden was quick to set the water down and take one of Tilda’s hands. “It would make me feel better if you spent the day at home.”

Tilda didn’t argue, but she didn’t seem happy either. In fact, her face twisted into a nasty scowl. She rose and Amabel leaned in quickly to whisper harshly in her ear.

“My lady, I think it would be wise for me to stay with you.” There was a hardness in her eyes. Worry. Sigrid felt a rush of gratitude for her. “I don’t want anything to happen.”

“I will be fine,” Sigrid whispered back. “Take Tilda home. Rest.”

She looked unconvinced, but Amabel followed her orders. The dark-haired woman and her sister melted into the crowded street.

“It looks like your handmaiden made it out unharmed,” Fili mused, watching them disappear. “I’m sure you’re relieved.”

“Very.” Sigrid had nearly wept when she came across Amabel helping others in the streets. Her handmaiden had thrown her arms around her neck and had practically sobbed her relief. Apparently, she’d been a worried mess when she hadn’t been able to find Sigrid or her sister. “She hid herself well enough, apparently. I think she’s upset at me for making her worry though.”

“Not much can be done about that,” Kili declared, much too cheerfully. He grabbed the pail of water, throwing it into the wall of blood. Sigrid jumped away, brushing onto Fili as she did so. Shocks travelled down her spine. “Alright, Lady of Dale. Go find something else to do. You can’t really scrub with one arm.”

Sigrid was tempted to argue, but he had a point. Leaving Kili as he picked up her forgotten brush, she was pleased that Fili fell into step with her. It wasn’t as though they were alone. The streets were filled with men and dwarves, but without his rambling brother with them, it felt as though they were.

“Are you alright?”

“Well, I’m not dead. Thanks to you.”

Fili gently grabbed her elbow.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Sigrid was forced to face him. In a single instant, every memory from his mother’s chambers slammed into her. A callused thumb on her cheek. Fingers tightening in her hair. The deep, primal feeling of need rose in her again. Despite being in the eyesight of dozens of witnesses, she craved so badly to hold him. To let him hold her. To feel his hands, burn through her skin. It was such insanity that she was taken aback. She swallowed hard, trying to focus on what she was wanting to say.

“No,” she answered quietly, out of earshot of anyone who walked by. “I’m not. We said we wouldn’t allow the villages to be attacked again and then we somehow allowed this to happen?”

“I know. Thorin is furious. I imagine your father will be as well.” Fili’s voice was grave. His eyes left her momentarily, to gaze up at the mountain. “The best explanation is Azog wanted to taunt my uncle, but even that doesn’t make much sense.”

Sigrid let out an unamused laugh. “Too many of my people were killed last night. Dozens more were injured, and a handful had their homes erupt in flames. All for taunting. I don’t know if we’re ready for when Azog is ready to come after your family again.”

“We?” Fili raised a brow. “Planning on helping us take down the white orc?”

“Well, I do have this really neat knife now.” Sigrid gave him a grin, although she wasn’t feeling particularly cheerful. “That should do the trick.”

“Don’t get too attached to that thing. I do plan on taking that back some day.” His eyes travelled over the length of her. “Where is it?”

“I doubt that would be very proper for me to show you,” she smiled. “I did learn to hide them from the best.”

Sigrid didn’t wait for an answer, before she walked away.

***

The days moved quickly. Men and dwarves alike worked together to clean the streets of Dale. There was the constant sound of hammers, and an endless cloud of black smoke drifted from the fire by the gate. The smell of burning orcs only bothered her for the first day or two. After that, Sigrid hardly noticed it. They were able to clean away the gore the first day and after that, Tilda and Amabel became her shadows. Sigrid wasn’t very useful with an arm in a swing, but she was able to help Bombur pass out bowls of stew and entertain children in the square with her stories.

The idleness wasn’t good for her though. It allowed her mind to wander and she kept finding herself thinking back to hands winding in her hair. She caught herself looking for his blonde braids everywhere she went. Fili kept busy and she never knew whether she’d find him hammering on top of a roof several stories above her or with a cloth around his nose and mouth, tending to the burning orc bodies. But without fail, no matter where she found him, he would find her eyes too as if he sensed her presence and she would see him smile in greeting.

Heat curled in her every time.

Her father returned on the second day. He hadn’t even waited for his horse to come to a complete stop before he jumped from the back and barreled into them all. He swung Tilda into his arms, fussed over Sigrid’s arm, and held tightly onto Bain’s shoulders. He didn’t need to say how relieved he was to see them alive. Sigrid could feel it.

After her father returned, Dale was quickly restored back to normal. Well, as normal as it could have been. There were still families grieving, but Sigrid knew it would take more than a few days for that to change.

“I don’t think you’ve made me one like this.” Sigrid sniffed the steaming cup grasped in her hands, before taking a careful sip. She wasn’t sure what Amabel had put in that particular concoction, but it had a pleasant floral taste.  

“Maybe this will be the magic one that helps,” Amabel replied. “You need to retire early tonight, my lady. You don’t look like you’ve slept in days.”

Sigrid knew if she bothered to look at herself in a mirror it would be true.  The skin underneath her eyes was heavy with purple smudges, almost mimicking the bruises that still covered her leg.

“It’s not like I haven’t been trying,” she huffed irritably. “I can never get more than a couple hours it seems like.”

Amabel sighed sympathetically from her spot across the steps from Sigrid. The sun was low in the sky and an early winter chill was settling over Dale. Sigrid’s body was sore and her mind was tired.

“The nightmares will pass, my lady.” Ambel reached across the expanse of the stone steps to grasp one of Sigrid’s hands. “I’m sure much of Dale is suffering from them.”

Guilt flooded her chest, but she gave her handmaiden a soft smile before squeezing her hand in gratitude. It was true that Sigrid was sleeping less and less recently, but it wasn’t from orcs. Something was wrong with her. So terribly wrong and she couldn’t even place exactly what it was. Her very city, her home and her people had been viciously attacked and nightmares involving them didn’t plague her sleep. Blood pooling on her streets didn’t keep her awake or the unseeing stare of the woman from the market. Not the guard she watched get his throat ripped out.

They were all of Fili.

Some were nightmares of the arrow going straight through his chest, splattering the front of her with his blood. Those she’d woken up screaming from so terribly Amabel had come running into her room. Others though, were dreams. Just dreams. Dreams of his fingers curled in her hair. Of his warm skin underneath her fingertips. She would lay in her empty bed every night after waking from them and envision the feeling of his arm tight around her waist and his chest flushed against her back. She thought of his deep laugh and the curling warmth that sat low in her stomach when he stood too close.

The wanting had grown too strong to ignore. Somehow the way she thought of him changed. She’d always known he was strong and handsome. That he cared deeply for those around him and even deeper for those he considered family. Sigrid had always enjoyed his company, but somewhere along their friendship…well, she didn’t think she could call it a friendship anymore.

And she had no idea what to do.

It was why she was waiting in front of her home so late in the evening. She needed advice and she couldn’t ask anyone. She needed someone who wouldn’t judge her or run to tell her father. Someone who understood what she was battling inside.

Tauriel had returned to the mountain a few days prior after tracking the orc pack west. Sigrid had not heard talk of the elf traveling outside of the walls of Erebor since and knew it would be anytime that she’d be in need of the open air. It just so happened to be a cloudless night and stars were already beginning to twinkle on the horizon. Sigrid knew there was a good chance her friend would be passing by.

“My lady, are you sure we can’t wait inside?” Amabel shivered against the breeze. “I’m sure we can keep watch from one of the windows or-.”

There was the sound of an approaching horse. Sigrid raised her head just as a fire headed elf passed by their open gate. Sigrid shoved her hot beverage in Amabel’s hands.

“I’ll be back!” she shouted over her shoulder, darting across the garden and out the front gate. She had her skirts gathered in her one good hand and it was making her annoyingly slow. “Tauriel!”

Kili’s wife turned in her saddle, smiling warmly as she ran up. “Sigrid! I’m happy to see you’re well. Arm still mending?”

Sigrid glanced at the sling. “I’m on my last day of it. I don’t even feel the pain anymore. Do you-do you have a minute? I’d like to speak with you.”

“Of course.” Tauriel dismounted, the marriage braid she kept tucked behind her ear swinging lightly. She took her horse by the reigns to walk beside her. “What can I help you with?”

Sigrid swallowed and glanced behind them. The breeze was bitter enough that most of the inhabitants of Dale had retreated inside for the evening. “Kili isn’t coming to join you, is he? Or Fili?”

“No, they’re spending their evening in your tavern with the others. I imagine they’ll be there several hours.” A crease appeared in between her brows. “Is everything alright?”

She nodded quickly. “Yes, I promise everything is fine. I just-this is an odd conversation I want to have. I’d like it to remain between us.”

“Sigrid, you don’t need to be embarrassed with me,” Tauriel assured her, giving her a soft smile. “Go on. Ask whatever you wish.”

“How do you know the difference between wanting someone and it meaning something more?”

Sigrid felt an embarrassed flush to her cheeks, but Tauriel did not laugh at her. Instead, she angled her head as she glanced at her curiously.

“Are you asking the difference between lust and love?”

Sigrid nodded.

“Well, then I’m not sure I’m the right one to ask. Kili is the only one I’ve ever laid with, and I also happen to be deeply in love with him.” Her eyes sparkled. “I have nothing to compare him with.”

“You are six hundred years old,” Sigrid exclaimed incredulously. “You’ve never wanted anyone else before him?”

“There was a rare, slight interest in others, but no. The desire you’re speaking of didn’t come until I met Kili.” Tauriel grinned. “He should be the one you ask. He’d been with others before me. I’m sure he can give you an accurate description between desire and love.”

 “I will absolutely not be discussing this with your husband.” Sigrid shuddered as Tauriel let out a short laugh. “He’d make fun of me until his very last breath.”

“Then I’m not sure how else to help you.” Tauriel slowed her steps to a stop. They were approaching the southern gate. Nearly double the number of guards were posted among the ramparts. “I suppose you’ll just know.”

“I’ll just know,” Sigrid repeated. It was incredibly unhelpful.  “I don’t feel like I will.”

Tauriel glanced around them, before speaking in a low voice. “Is there a particular reason you’re concerned with all of this?”

“No,” she answered quickly. “I’m sure you know I’m supposed to be getting married soon. I suppose I was just curious is all.”

Tauriel eyed her, before saying her farewells for the evening and departing through the gate.

Sigrid felt even more confused than she had before.

***

Fili drained his first tankard of ale, before grabbing a second one.

Kili sat in front of him. Bofur, Bifur, and Bombur sat to his left while Nori, Ori, and Dori were on his right. The tavern they were seated in was loud and much warmer than the dark city outside. They were all exhausted. It’d been several days since the orcs had attacked Dale and they’d all been working endlessly to help repair the city. Bard had returned though, and their temporary responsibility of Dale fell off their shoulders.

It had been Kili who suggested a drink and no one had argued.

“Did that elf of yours say how long she was going to be?” Nori asked.

Kili shook his head. “Nah. I can wait here for her though. You lot carry on when you’re ready.”

“I doubt she’ll be too long,” Fili took a long drink from his tankard. “We’ve got that meeting with Bard tomorrow.”

Kili made a face. “That’s not one I’m expected to be at, is it?”

“You’re expected to be at all of them.” Fili drained his second ale. He hadn’t planned on getting another, but Kili pushed his towards him. The lightness in his head from the alcohol was welcoming. It was the first time in days that his mind had been an anxious mess. “You know when you don’t show up, I’m the one who has to hear about it from Thorin?”

“I’m sorry that I have more important duties than something as trivial as meetings.”

Fili grinned. “And what would that be?”

“Pleasing my wife, of course.” There was laughter from around the table, but Kili only gave a smug shrug. “You wouldn’t understand the tedious responsibilities that are required of husbands, brother, but I assure you they’re much more interesting than meetings.”

“Tedious, eh?” Fili drank from the tankard his brother had given him. “I’ll have to let Tauriel know that’s what you think of your marriage bed.”

More laughter. Kili kicked his chair hard underneath the table, but even he was smiling.

“You wouldn’t dare.” His brother leaned across the table, so his next words weren’t overheard by the others, still howling with laughter. “Because then I might just let something slip to pretty little Sigrid.”

Fili’s smile fell. Kili settled back in his chair, looking pleased with himself.

“How is the Lady of Dale faring?” he asked. “I’m sure she’s shaken up over what happened?”

“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t talked to her much.”

Kili grabbed an ale from a passing barmaid. “Poor thing is probably a mess.

Fili eyes him over the rim of his ale, before finishing that one as well. “Where are you going with this?”

His brother’s brows furrowed in a look of confusion that Fili knew to be utter bullshit. “Am I not allowed to express concern for our dear friend?”

“No.”

Kili continued as if he hadn’t heard. “I mentioned her in passing to Bain today. He said she’s been distracted. Hardly eating at meals. Comes down in the morning and looks like she’s barely slept. She’s got that handmaiden of hers all worried.”

Fili palmed his empty cup. He wasn’t going to say it out loud, but the idea that something bothering Sigrid so badly made him feel ill. Or maybe it was the ale. His brother had taken up a side conversation with Bofur and in the midst of it, slid his full cup to Fili. He drank silently for a few minutes, unable to focus on the conversations around him.

He wanted so badly to check on her, to hear for himself that she was really alright, that it was all he could think about. He waited for a lull in Kili’s conversation, before slightly leaning in to address him.

“She really isn’t sleeping?”

“Nope. I wonder if it’s bad dreams? Or maybe she doesn’t even fall asleep at all? She just lays there awake for hours imagining horrors-.”

“I’ll be back.” Fili shoved away from the table. “Don’t wait up for me?”

His comrades looked at him curiously, all but Kili who was wearing the biggest shit-eating grin he’d ever seen, but no one stopped him as he stalked out the door.

***

Sigrid woke with a gasp. Shooting upright wither her chest heaving, she took in the moonlight filtering through her curtains. Her hands shook as she wiped them over her face and tried to slow her breathing. It hadn’t been a nightmare, but a series of hard to places images. A heavy voice beside her ear. Pressure low in her stomach. A warm chest against her back.

Sigrid felt sick. The nightmares had finally given her a break, but this was the cost? Dreams that only made her question any sort of logical thinking. Was she destined to never have a proper night’s sleep again? She knew she hadn’t been asleep long. The moon was still quite high. Annoyed that her sleep had interrupted, she fluffed her pillow, avoiding the knife she had stashed underneath and tried to get comfortable.

But the dream hadn’t been what woken her.

Sigrid paused as an unfamiliar noise echoed in her silent room. She waited and a moment later, it echoed again. Ripping back her covers, she strode to the window and flung it open. She was greeted with an icy breeze that immediately rose goosebumps on her bare arms and-.

“Fili!” she hissed in shock. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Trying not to fall.” The dwarven prince was hoisting himself up on the stone ledge of her window. Sigrid stuck her head out the window, wondering how on earth he managed to traverse the stone wall. Fili caught her gaze. “It was easier than it looked. You mind?”

Sigrid gripped one of his arms, helping him clamber into her room. “This has got to be one of the most reckless-.”

She lost her footing as Fili tumbled forward. An arm snatched around her back, spinning her as the crashed into the ground. He let out a loud groan as his back collided with the stone floor and Sigrid let out a small noise as she landed on top of him.

“Son of a-.” Fili’s groan was cut off as she covered his mouth tightly with her hand. They both froze, listening. Sigrid allowed several silent seconds to pass before concluding they hadn’t woken up the household. Looking down at Fili, she could feel his smirk behind her hand. She removed it quickly. “See? Easy.”

“You’ve been drinking.”

“Irrelevant.”

“What are you doing,” she demanded a second time. “If my father catches you in here-.”

“I was very discreet. As long as you don’t start screaming, no one will know.” He looked pointedly between them, where she was straddling his hips. “You want to let me up?”

Sigrid flushed and climbed off his lap. Moving across the room, she stood in front of the fire and crossed her arms fiercely as he too rose to his feet. “You need to leave, Fili. I’m serious.”

“Just wait a second. I only want to talk.” He raised his hands and didn’t move any closer. Sigrid had the impression he was trying to calm a wild animal. “Where’s your sling?”

“I’ve worn it as long as Oin told me to,” she answered heatedly. “That’s not why you climbed through my window.”

“No. No, you’re right. It’s not.” He took a deep breath, running a hand over his head. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Fili,” she sighed, exasperated. “I’m fine. I think you drank a little too much. Come on. Let’s sneak you out of here-.”

“You’re not fine,” he argued, firmly. “You haven’t been sleeping again. Bain said you’ve been distracted and not sleeping well again.”

“This is why you barged into my room in the middle of the night?” she demanded, heatedly. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think my sleeping habits are cause for such an alarm.”

“I’m worried about you.” Fili’s voice was growing deeper. “If you would just talk to me-.”

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Sigrid, I don’t want to be worried anymore.”

“Well, its good thing I don’t need you to be worried about me.”

“Well, that’s too fucking bad!” Fili stalked half the distance between, stopping several feet away. The fire was low, casting his shadows high along the opposite side of the room. “Because I can’t seem to stop worrying about you and its one of the most aggravating things I have ever dealt with.”

Sigrid froze. For several long seconds, the only sound was her own heartbeat thundering in her ears. Fili continued to stare at her, his eyes blazing in the dancing firelight. His chest was rising and falling rapidly.

“What?”

“You heard me.” There was a bite to his words. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I haven’t been able to for months and it’s driving me insane.”

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Her mind was whirling, and she was frantically trying to conjure a coherent thought.

“I’m sick of every waking thought I have being consumed entirely by you. Your laugh. Your hair. Your fucking smile that I am never going to be able to erase out of my head.” He enunciated each sentence with a step towards her. “And I can’t do anything about it. Do you even realize what I almost did to you the other night? I nearly ruined everything. You’ve even wormed your way into my dreams -.”

“I dream of you too.”

Sigrid’s words were barely a breath of a whisper, but Fili instantly fell silent. He stared, not breaking eye contact. His chest continued to heave and Sigrid swallowed nervously.

“Did you hear me?” she asked, softly. She couldn’t seem to raise her voice above a whisper. “I said-.”

Fili closed the distance between them in three long strides. Hands burned on her face and Sigrid hardly had time to register what was happening, before his mouth pressed firmly against hers.

It was as though time stood still. It had to have been only a couple of seconds, but Sigrid felt as though a lifetime passed as his lips molded onto hers. His thumbs moved gently along her cheeks and just as she was fully understanding that she was being kissed, he pulled away. She caught the look in his eyes; wide, petrified fear. The hands lost their hold on her face and Sigrid realized he was about to back away.

She couldn’t have that, so she gripped the fur lapels of his coat and yanked his mouth back to hers.

Fili’s response was immediate. Her back slammed into the shelving on the walls. Books toppled around them as one of his hands slid to the back of her neck, securing her mouth to his. The other had an iron grip on her waist. His mouth widened and his tongue swept against her own. Sigrid whimpered as she caught the taste of ale.

“I knew you’d been drinking,” she gasped against his open mouth. “Don’t tell me you’re drunk.”

“Ah, it wasn’t that much.” His breath fanned over her face. She felt his fingers knead at the base of her skull and she closed her eyes. “Just enough for some liquid courage.”

Without warning, he sunk low and yanked on the back of her thighs. His lips captured hers, swallowing the surprised shriek in the back of her throat, and her legs wrapped instinctively around his middle. She held his jaw in both her hands, keeping his face angled up to hers as he moved them across the room.

They crashed into the small table beside her bed. Fili cursed in her mouth as the drink Amabel had prepared for her that night spilled to the floor, and Sigrid couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped her mouth. It was cut short when Fili adjusted them, tipping her backwards onto the soft mattress. She didn’t waste a moment. Her back had hardly hit her covers, and she was already rising, pushing away his coat. It fell off his shoulders, falling to her floor with the sound of clanking metal. She raised a brow, but Fili’s only response was to grin wickedly, before grabbing the back of her head and kissing her fiercely.

Sigrid couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe. Words refused to form in her head. There was the sound of his boots thudding against the floor before he climbed on top of her. Her entire world was nothing but his tongue sweeping into her mouth and his fingers twisting into her hair.

“Your braid,” he growled, against her mouth. “Let me-.”

Sigrid nodded fervently. Fili’s skilled hands worked quickly. Within seconds, he was pulling the leather strand out of her hair and tossing it aside. She felt the weight of it come undone, cascading over the covers. He paused, his eyes taking in her unkempt hair and swollen lips, as he breathed heavily. She could see them travel across her flushed chest and when he finally caught her gaze again, they were positively burning.

In the firelight, he was practically golden.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve pictured your hair like this,” he divulged to her, leaning in to kiss her collarbone. His beard tickled the sensitive skin there and Sigrid squirmed under his weight. “It was fawned over my bed, but this is close enough.”

Sigrid laughed quietly, but it quickly morphed into a loud gasp when his mouth latched onto the base of her throat. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, nails biting into the fabric of his shirt as his mouth worked against her pulse point. She felt a bandage wrapped on his shoulder and was just about to ask if felt alright when Fili ground his hips down in between her legs.

The moan she let out was humiliating, but it made her feel slightly better that he made the same noise into her neck. She had a vague thought that there would be time to be embarrassed later, but it vanished entirely when one of his hands splayed on her ribcage. The tip of his fingers brushed the underside of her breast, still covered by her night dress, but the sensation immediately ignited a spark of fire low in her belly.

With a desperate need, she tangled her hands into Fili’s mass of blonde hair and pulled his face back to hers. He kissed her back with a such a deep intensity that every inch of her being was solely focused on the feel of his tongue and the scratch of his whiskers when she felt his hand hover above her breast. She wondered what he was taking so long for, when the realization sunk in.

He was waiting for permission.

Sigrid untangled one of her hands from his hair just brief enough to grab his wrist and thrust his hand onto her chest. There was sound low in his throat and it shot through her body, fueling the fire that was growing inside of her.

“We-we don’t have to do anything,” he said the words against the side of her mouth, almost as if he were out of breath. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Sigrid.”

Words. She had to form words, but how could she possibly be expected to think when he was looking at her like he needed her? Really and truly needed her? Words wouldn’t come, so she settled for hooking a bare leg around his hip as she captured his lips once more.

Fili didn’t need more convincing. When her hand had tangled itself back in his hair once more, he brushed his thumb over her nipple. Sigrid gasped and her back arched, pressing his hand tighter to her. She felt his smile against her open mouth. Prideful fool. She nearly said as much, but he moved his thumb again over the peak again and her mind went blank.

So much of her attention was on his thumb and it’s slow movements, that she hadn’t noticed the other hand moving up her thigh. Not until his rough fingers barely traced her smallclothes and Sigrid jumped. Both his hands froze, and Fili ripped his mouth from hers to gaze down on her, concern etched on every feature.

The sensible thing would be to tell him to stop. She had to be the one to end this. What they’d already done was bad enough, but to take it a step further…there would be no going back from that. Sigrid had always done was she was supposed to do her entire life. There was no reason that very moment should be any different.

Glancing down, unable to see the hand that had disappeared under her nightdress, Sigrid wondered how they had managed to make such a mess of things. When she looked back up and saw Fili had followed her gaze, she realized how incredibly enticing he looked when his blue eyes darkened.

Sigrid through sensibility out the window, in favor of the dwarven prince who had his hand between her legs.

She gave him a short nod and when he leaned forward to kiss her again, it was softer than the others. She held him close, breathing in his scent of leather and ale, as his careful fingers pushed her smallclothes aside and reached the apex of her thighs.

Sigrid had no concept of the noise she made. Whatever it was, Fili swallowed it quickly.

“Fuck,” he groaned, breaking their mouths apart. He pressed his forehead tightly to hers. Sigrid could only whimper in response as his hand continued it slow ministrations on her folds. “You’re so wet.”

Pressure was growing between her legs. Her hips started moving on their own accord as Fili’s mouth moved everywhere. Her jaw. Her neck. Her shoulder. Her collarbone. She wasn’t too focused on his lips, as his hand had picked a steady rhythm that was all too consuming, but when his mouth attacked her cloth-covered breast, Sigrid’s back completely bowed off the bed.

“Fili!” she gasped as a rush of warmth flooded to her center.

“I’ll take it as a compliment you forgot how to speak for a bit there,” he mumbled against the damp cloth. More pressure appeared from his hand and when Sigrid ground her hips against it, he groaned. “Anything else you’d like to say?”

A knuckle pressed against her opening and Sigrid let out the most pathetic noise she’d ever heard in her entire life. “Don’t stop.”

She could feel Fili’s smirk against her breast. A second later it didn’t matter. Nothing in the entirety of Middle Earth mattered because he slowly pushed a single finger inside of her and Sigrid’s entire body caught on fire.

She tried to be quiet. She really did, but it was becoming increasingly difficult as Fili moved inside of her. He paid attention to every noise she made, every movement of her hips, and pinch of her nails and adjusted his hand accordingly. Before long, he was moving in such a perfect rhythm Sigrid was growing completely overwhelmed. Fili was cursing under his breath. Actually, she couldn’t tell exactly what he was saying in the guttural dwarven language, but it sounded like some form of cursing. That, combined with his hand and the feel of his body above her, Sigrid felt something inside of her growing. It was the same pressure as before, but it was fiercer. Sharper.

“Fili,” she gasped again. Her eyes were closed, but she still felt his gaze snap to her face. “I need-.”

He understood immediately. His hand twisted and Sigrid bit her lip to keep herself from crying out.

“Come on, Sigrid.” He spoke the words into the soft skin of her neck. “It’s alright. I’m right here.”

His thumb pressed into her bundle of nerves and Sigrid swore lighting pieced every inch of her body. There was no containing her cry as blinding, unmeasurable pleasure washed over her, but Fili had the sense to grab her in a kiss and swallow her scream.

She had no idea how long it took her hips to stop rocking, but when they finally did Fili pressed a final, soft kiss to the corner of her mouth before removing his hand and wiping it on his pants. Sigrid rose on her elbows to watch him. His shirt was disheveled, and his face flushed, but the grin he gave her when she caught his gaze was what made her heart thunder loudly in her chest.

Fili threw himself down on the bed next to her, head raised against headboard. He shifted for a moment, reaching underneath himself and yanked his own knife that she’d stashed under the pillow. She grinned, and tucked herself beside him.

“Is that what happens in a marriage bed?”

“Aye,” he answered, tugging her closer so she could lay on his chest. “That’s part of it.”

“I didn’t realize it would be like that,” she confessed. “I’ve known about the…process for years, but I always thought it would be more of a chore.”

Fili’s laugh was deep in his chest and she felt his lips against her hair. “It helps when you like the other person.”

Sigrid moved her fingers around the seams of his shirt, pondering his words. The only sign she had that Fili hadn’t drifted off to sleep was the slow movement of his hand on her side.

“Did you mean what you said?”

She knew she wouldn’t have to clarify. The hand on her side stilled momentarily and when Fili answered, his words were laced with so much sincerity that Sigrid felt her stomach flip.

“Every word.”

Tauriel’s words struck her like a blow to the head.

You’ll just know.

She rolled, laying her chin on top of her hands on his chest to look at his face. Gods, why was just recently noticing how beautiful he was? His hand shifted, pressing wide and flat on the low of her back to secure her against him.

“Fili,” she whispered. “What do we do?”

Any hint of light in his features crumpled. Sigrid felt her own stomach sink and he broke their stare to gaze at the ceiling. “I have no idea. We shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why? You said you meant-.”

“I did. I do.” The hand on her back started moving soothingly. “But that doesn’t change anything. What I want doesn’t matter.”

“What about what I want?” she demanded. His gaze shot back to hers. “Or am I misunderstanding this? You think about me enough to climb into my bedroom window in the middle of the night but not enough for anything else?”

“What? No, of course not.” His hand moved to her face, sliding along her jaw to cup the back of her head. “Do you really think so little of me?”

“Then, why-?”

“Sigrid, you know as well as I do this wouldn’t be allowed.” His fingers moved slowly through her waves of hair. “If it was, I would have talked to your father months ago.”

It felt as though her chest was crushing in on itself. The realization that what had just occurred in her bedroom wasn’t the beginning of something, but only a glimpse of could have been, made her throat grow tight.

“So-so what are we supposed to do then?” She was struggling to keep her voice low. “We just pretend this didn’t happen? Tell me, are you going to come see me off when I choose a husband?”

“Sigrid-.”

“Will I be expected to attend your inevitable wedding in the future? Watch some dwarrowdam you’ve never met before give you little dwarf princes?”

“I don’t know.” His fingers tightened against her scalp and he forced her face close to his. The desperation in his voice was nearly painful to listen to and Sigrid felt her bottom lip quiver when his forehead pressed to hers. “I don’t know. I have no idea what we’re supposed to do. If I could change all this, I swear I would. I’m sorry, Sigrid. I’m so sorry.”

He said something else; something in his dwarven language that she didn’t understand, but the sound of the rough words caressing her skin made her chest break. Unable to look at his face any longer, Sigrid tucked her head under his chin before he could see the water brimming in her eyes. She slipped a hand under the neck of his shirt, moving her finger along the bandage on his shoulder.

“Will you stay with me? Just for a little while?”

His only response was to kiss the top of her hair.

To Sigrid, it felt like a farewell.