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Chapter Text

All good fairy tales start in a non descript time and in non descript land. However, this one begins in a time between times and a land that is impossible to find on any map, even one of itself. Thus making bus timetables very hard to navigate.

The Istari have existed from the very beginning, and are trusted with the protection of those around them. They all come with different names and titles, some grand, some less so. For example, Saruman preferred the title of “Lord” and liked to reside over the people of the world with a supercilious air whilst Radagast was happy enough to wonder around the forests and bare the title of “Madman”. Needless to say, the two didn’t get along all that well.

Gandalf though, they could both tolerate. Whilst he had a habit of disappearing with barely a word of explanation, one could always rely on him to turn up when he was most needed. Much like the other Istari, Gandalf liked to wonder the human world and had made friends with many of its people, from lowly peasants to high born kings.

One day, Gandalf was travelling through the kingdom of Erebor and journeyed into the County of Dale for a drink at one of their many fine establishments. Dale had certainly seen better days. The Lord of Dale spent most of his time and money caring for his people, and as such had slipped into poverty himself. He rented out the manner to wealthy businessmen to spend their holidays in, choosing instead to live in a small farmhouse with his daughter and his wife, who was expecting their second child.

Gandalf had much respect for the young lord. All of his financial problems could have been solved if he just sold off the land connected to his property. However, no matter how many offers he was made, he refused to sell, explaining that the people of Dale were reliant on that land for their livelihood. Their rent was controlled by him personally, and Bard made sure that it was set at a fair price- even allowing payments to be made late so long as they were willing to provide a barrel of apples or some goat’s milk for the children. 

Thus, on his visit, Gandalf chose to drop by and see the family. Lady Kendra welcomed him into their home and offered him what little food they had. Their daughter, Sigrid, was a bright young girl, no older than eight. She was kind, considerate and had a certain amount of cheekiness to her that Gandalf approved of whole heartedly. He also noticed that she’d already developed the gift of bird song, passed onto those of Girion’s direct line. Gandalf smiled and sung with her as her mother prepared the tea.

“You sing beautifully young one.” Said Gandalf after they were finished and the birds had flown back to their nests for the evening.

“Thank You Mr Gandalf.” The girl grinned, bobbing her head in a small curtsey “You sing very well too, nobody else in the village can sing though.” She said sadly,

“Oh really now?” prompted Gandalf

“Yes. It’s really sad, they’ll never know what stories the birds have to tell, or be able to send secret messages to people, or any of that. I wish everyone could sing.” She sighed

“You’d rather not keep the magic to yourself?”

Sigrid stared up at him with wide eyes “No! No way! Everyone deserves to share in the good things. That’s what Mam taught me, ‘we shouldn’t be envious of others or selfish in ourselves’.” She quoted, proudly

Gandalf smiled down at the child fondly. “You are a wise girl, Young Sigrid. I’ll have to keep a look out for you.” His eyes twinkled “If ever you need my help, just call out my name and I shall come and find you, if I am able.”

Sigrid blinked up at him, “But why would I need your help?”

“Oh you never know. I’ll be off now Miss Sigrid, Lady Kendra- give my best wishes to your husband.”

Sigrid stared after the mysterious stranger as he went along his way.

“Who was that funny old man?” She asked her mother as she helped her set the table for dinner.

“That was Mr Gandalf. He’s sort of an old friend of the family.”

“How come you or Da have never mentioned him before?”

“Yes we have. He’s the wise wizard who’s always causing trouble in your bed time stories.”

“You mean he can do real magic! Is that why he can sing as well?” She asked excitedly

“Yes my dear, he can.”

“You mean a real wizard promised to look out for me! Like a Fairy Godmother!”

Kendra laughed “Exactly like a Fairy Godmother. Though don’t go calling him at all times of the day, he’s a very busy man.”

“I promise.” Said Sigrid, very seriously “I’ll only call him when I need him.”

“That’s my girl. Now go and fetch your father from the fields, it’s time for dinner.”

Sigrid smiled and ran outside, singing to the birds so as they might find her Da for her. The sun was just starting to set, and the sky was a beautiful shade of pink with a golden light highlighting the clouds just like in a painting. Sigrid laughed and skipped through the fields as she chased after the song. It would be one of the last times in over a decade that she’d ever be this happy.

The day her little sister was born was meant to be a day of celebration. Having already got a little brother, she’d been hoping on the new baby being a girl, so when she heard her wishes had come true she’d leapt for joy. However, when she saw her mother, weak with laboured breathing and barely enough strength to lift her hand, she knew that all was not right with the world. A week later, Lady Kendra had died.

At just eleven years old, Sigrid had become the woman of the house responsible for its upkeep along with the surrogate mother to two young children. 

Sigrid called out to her Fairy Godmother. But no response came.

*

When Fíli was nine years old, his father died. This was a horrible experience and he’d cried every night for a month. The whole thing was only made bearable by his Uncle Frerin, who’d always come running whenever Fíli woke up from a nightmare, and was perfectly happy to hold him close whilst Fíli sobbed into his jacket, getting snot into his poor uncle’s beard. It had been Frerin who’d taught him how to fight, how to ride and how to sneak out of the castle without being spotted. They’d take little Kíli with them, in order to give his mum a break, and play games until the sunset.

Uncle Thorin didn’t approve of Frerin giving the boys so much leeway when it came to such things, but it didn’t stop him from spoiling the boys anyway. Frerin had always been one for mischief and he’d passed the trait on down to his nephews.

“Your mum and I used to team up and pull pranks on your uncle you see.” He’d explained one day “He just worries you’ll do the same. But I know you’re wiser than to awaken the dragon.” He’d wink, as he swapped Thorin’s ale for vinegar.

One day, Frerin had to leave the castle in order to travel to a neighbouring kingdom to sort out a trade agreement between their people. Thorin didn’t trust them, but Frerin always looked for the best in people; and managed to persuade his brother to let him go. The treaty would be very beneficial to both kingdoms, so it was worth a shot.

Despite what Thorin might say, Frerin cared deeply for his homeland and couldn’t bare to hear of any of their people being hurt when he could do something to stop it. It was a trait Fíli greatly admired. Frerin even defended the Eldar, who Thorin had always resented for not coming to their aid in The Great War and had chosen to remain neutral instead.

Fíli gave his uncle a hug, and told him to return home safely. Frerin asked him if he wanted anything from his travels as a gift, but Fíli only asked for the first branch that touched his shoulder, so as he’d think about him during the journey, and know to return quickly. Something went terribly wrong though.

The party had not even made it to the kingdom, when vicious mercenaries attacked them. They’d put up a good fight, but alas, they were greatly outnumbered and outmatched.

In the end, the branch Fíli had requested had come home, but Frerin did not. Fíli didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye.

His mother tried to comfort Fíli, but there was nothing she could do. Her grief was just as great as his own. Kíli had been too young when their father died to really understand what it meant, but he did now, and the grief seemed to hit him all the worse for it. The three of them would stay up late together and hold one another close until they eventually dropped off.

Uncle Thorin never really recovered from the loss though. Frerin had been the one to keep him grounded, the only person in the kingdom who’d be able to extract a full on belly laugh. It seemed as though laughter would never return to the kingdom.

There was more heartache to come from the death of his favourite uncle though.

Fíli had always known that Thorin was a king, and as such had many responsibilities to the people of the land. He was often late for dinner because he had been at boring trade meetings, and they often had visitors from far off lands whom they had to be pleasant towards and wear their best clothes around as a ‘mark of respect’.

However, what he’d failed to understand that as of all Thrain’s children, only Dís had had any to call her own. This meant that now that Frerin was dead, it was Fíli who was next in line for the throne.

When Thorin had sat down with him and explained all of this, that he would have to stop going to the main school with all the over noble’s children, and instead attend private tutorial with Sir Balin that would aid him in his duties as the Crowned Prince of Erebor. Fíli declared this to be unfair, that he didn’t want to be Crowned Prince, that one of their cousins should get the job instead! Thorin had yelled at him loud enough for the whole castle to hear.

Fíli’s eyes began to fill with tears and he ran from the room, not wanting Thorin the satisfaction of see him cry. He made his way past all the guards, and snuck out through the servant’s quarters and into the woods where he promptly got lost. He sat beneath a tall silver elm tree that reached far into the sky, and sobbed until there were no more tears left to cry.

He knew he had no reason to be upset. His favourite uncle was dead, that should be the thing he was focussing on, not this. He knew that lots of children dreamed of being a prince, but it wasn’t something he’d ever personally wanted. He just wanted a simple life, even if that meant no more fancy dinners or nice clothes. He didn’t think he’d be able to take on all the responsibility needed to be a ruler- it just wasn’t in his nature.

Why do you cry little one? Asked a voice. Fíli looked up from where he was crying and tried to find the owner of the voice.

“Who’s, who’s there?” he asked “Show yourself!” he tried to sound brave and commanding, just like his mother, but was pretty sure he just sounded as afraid as he felt.

There is no need to be afraid, young prince; I am not going to hurt you. I am not like your uncle.

“Then show me your face.” He said staring around “Or are you scared of me?”

A woman stepped towards him out of the darkness of the shadows. She was dressed entirely in white, and had long flowing golden hair. Although her smile was kindly and her eyes honest, Fíli could sense a great deal of power emanating from her. When she spoke again, her mouth didn’t move and Fíli realised that the voice was actually inside his head.

Are you a witch? he asked cautiously, thinking the words rather than saying them.

No I am not a witch. I am the Lady Galadriel. I live my life in Lórien but guard over all who live their lives amongst the trees and seek out the light from above. Even those who belong to The King of Stone.

This didn’t mean anything to Fíli so instead he asked what do you want with me?

I want nothing from you child, I only wonder why you cry. Is it not your uncle, the king, who is destroying my wood for his own benefit? Surely it should be I who is crying, not you, Prince Fíli.

Fíli shifted from foot to foot I’m sorry about my uncle. He doesn’t realise what he does hurts people. He probably didn’t realise anyone lived in Lórien wood.

The wood has a deep magic running through it. Your uncle has been told this yet he chooses to ignore the words of his advisors. Why is this?

My uncle doesn’t listen to anyone, except sometimes Balin or Mother. He used to listen to Uncle Frerin, but, but Uncle Frerin isn’t around anymore. I think that’s why he’s so angry all the time.

Your uncle’s grief is commendable. But it does not excuse his behaviour. Lórien is a sacred place to the Eldar. We have tolerated the destruction of our trees for the benefit of individuals, so as people may have shelters and warmth, but your Uncle is destroying the woods for no reason other than greed for more land.

He thinks it will clear more land for farming and-

The wood will provide more from being alive than from being dead.

I’m sorry. Began Fíli, he could feel the anger in the woman’s spirit, and he could see her eyes were become darker the more she spoke I’ll talk to him. I promise. He’s stubborn, he probably didn’t expect this kind of thing to happen. Though I’m not sure what I can do…

The woman smiled kindly again and the anger in her face subsided

You are his heir, Prince Fíli, I think he shall listen to you. Go now, and know, that if you can stop your Uncle from destroying the wood for his selfish desires, then you shall have made a friend of the Eldar, if you do not, however, we shall be forced to take our revenge.

“Leave now.” She said out loud “Go in peace and remember, do not fail me.”

Fíli clambered to his feet and ran from where he had been sitting. He found himself back in the opening of the forrest faster than he should have, and turned around to stare at where he’d come from. The mysterious woman had disappeared. He stepped out from the shelter of the trees and wondered back up to the castle where he was intercepted by a furious looking Captain Dwalin.

“Where have you been Laddie?” asked the man, towering over him “Your uncle has sent half the castle out looking for ya’ .” He grabbed the boy by the collar and dragged him back to his quarters “You’re not to run off again like that, ya’ hear me?” he growled, “The woods are dangerous. You could have been killed. Though I guess that’s your uncle’s job now.”

He deposited the boy back into his room, where his uncle was already waiting for him.  

“You may leave, Captain.” Said Thorin, not taking his stern gaze away from his nephew.

“Aye, your Majesty.” Dwalin gave a curt bow and marched out of the room, throwing Fíli a warning glance.

Fíli stood still, not saying a word and stared intently at his feet. The silence between the two of them became suffocating. It filled the room until there was no air left for Fíli to breath and the only way to escape it was to say something. Anything.

“Uncle- I.”

“You what?” said his Uncle quietly, his rage in every syllable “You just thought you could abandon your king, leave without so much as a goodbye?”

“Burushruka igbulul e, Irak’adad.” He whispered.

“Sorry is not good enough!” he yelled, making Fíli jump “You cannot hide away from your responsibilities to this kingdom! You have a duty to perform. You will not step away from it, I will not let my own sister’s son bring shame upon this family!”

“I know Uncle, I’m sorry I just”

“You just thought you could abandon us all? That you could run off and live in a field like a peasant?”

“And what’s wrong with that?” said Fíli, finding his voice now “You act like we’re so much better than them, but they’re the ones with the real power! They’re the ones who do all our cooking and our cleaning. They’re the real ones who provide for this kingdom, not you! You do nothing. You sit here and you order them to cut down the trees of Lórien, the trees that the people use for shelter, for food, for, for, for everything. For magic.” He added weakly at the end.

“Magic? Do not tell me you still believe in magic” said his Uncle giving a sharp laugh of derision “I cut down that forest so as our people may farm it and grow the food we need, not prevent from getting it.”

“But in the long term, the forest, it, it’ll provide more life. It’s a sacred space Uncle, Frerin wouldn’t want you to do it.” He added finally he looked up to gaze into Thorin’s eyes and saw the hurt that was there.

“You talk about how we have many privileges but few rights. Isn’t it our duty to protect the rights of those who live in the forest?”

“The Eldar are of no concern of mine. If they will not come to our defence then I shall not go to theirs.”

“It’s not the Eldar’s fault that Uncle Frerin’s dead!”

“YOU LISTEN TO ME-”roared the king

“NO IT’S TIME YOU LISTENED FOR A CHANGE!” shouted Fíli “You never listen to me, or anyone! Not since Frerin died. Frerin believed in magic. He believed in being fair to the people of the kingdom and respecting their beliefs, why can’t you do the same?”

Thorin turned and walked briskly forward to crowd into his nephew’s personal space. Fíli once again began to find breathing difficult.

“You do not get to speak to me of what Frerin would and would not have wanted. You are too young to understand such things. Do not speak of what you do not know.”

Fíli stood his ground though, frightened as he was. “Stop cutting down the wood.”

Thorin glared at him before shoving past the boy and heading towards the door. “I see there is no sense in trying to reason with you. You’re to stay in your room until further notice, and you shall not be dining alone in here tonight. Maybe that will help you see sense.”

Thorin slammed the door behind him and Fíli flopped down in his bed and angrily beat at the cushions. Thorin himself sighed and leant back against the door, hearing his nephew’s frustrations. The boy was right, he realised. His brother would never have stood for this.

The cutting down of the trees was more out of spite towards the Eldar and their customs than it was out of a need for more land for farming. His advisors had told him the land might not be suitable anyway, but he’d ignored them, seeking only to take revenge on those who had allowed so many of their people to die.

He couldn’t let Fíli know that he was considering the boy’s opinion though, not after the defiant way he had put it. The boy needed punishing.

Thorin rubbed his eyes. He’d talk it over with Balin in the morning, and see what could be done.

Back in the woods, The Lady of Lórien peered into the shining surface of her mirror and gazed at the ripples on the water as they showed her what was happening. She gazed upon the young prince as he raged against his uncle’s stubbornness. She saw the king discussing the situation with his advisor. She saw the future, where once the trees had been cleared and their home disappeared for good, she now saw life and magic teaming through it once more. She smiled to herself.

It seems we have a new charge to look after. Spoke her late daughter’s husband from behind her.

Indeed we do.

Do you think it wise, to take responsibility for the life of a Durin into our hands?

I think it wise to keep our word. I think it our duty to help those in need. I think it our honour to provide that service.

As ever you speak in riddles. He smiled fondly. Galadriel turned around to face him but said nothing more on the topic.

“Tell me, Lord Elrond, where is Gandalf? I much desire to speak with him in regards to the upcoming events in Dale.”

Chapter Text

Five years after the death of his wife, Lord Bard decided that it was probably time he found a new parent to care for his children. It had taken him a long time to reach the point, but when he’d awoken one day to see his eldest daughter sharing the harried look the mothers of the village had, he decided that it was high time he got his act together and allowed her to act her age. She was sixteen after all, and it was unfair that she would not be allowed to attend the same dances and gatherings as her peers.

Thus, he began to make enquiries about a suitable partner. Being a handsome man with a title, he found he had many offers from around the nation, but in the end settled on a man of around his own age, a widower himself with two children only a little older than Sigrid.

Though he was a man of great wealth, Mr Greenleaf of Mirkwood possessed no title, and made no illusions that this was why he sought to make a union with Lord Bard. It was agreed then, that Thranduil would too become a Lord through marriage so long as he used his wealth to help restore the lands and properties of Dale. The agreement was made and by the spring the family was able to move back into their stately manner.

Lord Thranduil was a strange man in the eyes of Bard’s children. He was cold and distant even towards his own two children, through he smiled sweetly and truthfully whenever he spoke to Lord Bard. His two children were just as ethereally beautiful as he was. His son, Legolas, had the same long blonde hair and ice blue eyes, whilst his adoptive daughter Tauriel had hair the colour of autumn leaves. To Sigrid’s eyes, they all appeared haughty and supercilious, but her mother had taught her to see the best in people. If her father could love Thranduil, then surely he could not be all that bad?

“Just give him a chance, will you?” he asked her “Give them some time and show them the ropes of how things work around here.”

“I promise Da.” sighed Sigrid, as she went back to helping prepare their evening meal. She’d asked if Tauriel wished to help, but the girl had looked at her in shock and asked her why on earth they were expected to do the job of servants? Sigrid had rolled her eyes at the girl and left her to polishing her bow. That was at least something the two families had in common. Her father was an expert archer, and had passed the skill onto both Sigrid and Bain, though Sigrid found she had little time to practice in recent years, she still enjoyed shooting. She’d been pleased to note one day when Legolas and Bain had returned from a days hunt together with two pheasants for dinner that night, each shot straight in the eye for a clean kill.

Perhaps, she thought, perhaps we could be a family. They cannot be so bad surely?

That was before the fire though. That winter had been particularly cold, and so most of the fires in the manner had been lit and kept alight throughout the night. Something must have gone wrong though. Perhaps a pigeon had dropped something down the chimney, or the wood had shifted slightly as it burnt, but an ember had fallen upon the rug, where it had caught a blaze and grew and grew as it ate up more of wooden panelling.

Sigrid has woken up coughing as smoke began to fill the room. She’d exited her room coughing and spluttering to see her sister’s room was a blaze with light. She cried out and tried to run towards her, but her father was already on the way.

“Get out of here. Go! Hurry!” he yelled at her “Get the others and get to safety!” She stared wide eyed as her Father entered the blaze, only coming to her senses when she felt Tauriel’s grip on her arm pulling her away from the scene.

“Come, Sigrid. We have to get out of here.”

“Bain? Where’s Bain?” she cried out “Bain! Bain where are you!” they were outside now and Bain was still nowhere to be seen.

Thranduil and Legolas were already stood outside the manner along with the servants, who, thankfully, all seemed accounted for. She looked around for her brother and saw him talking with the gaggle of cooks, he must have snuck down again for a midnight feast. He spotted her and went over.

“Where’s Da?” he asked, panic in his voice “What’s happening? Where’s Tilda?”

“I don’t know Bain.” She answered truthfully, there was no use lying to the boy after all. “There’s a fire, it was in Tilda’s room I think, Da went in to rescue her, but.” She gulped and stared down at her brother, looking so young in his large white sleeping shirt that went down to his knees and unkempt hair. “I don’t think he’s coming out of there Bain.”

Her eyes were pricking with tears now, but she tried to hold herself together, just like she’d done when Mam had died. Bain shook his head.

“No. No he can’t be dead. Not as well as Mam, no! No!” he yelled the last word and went to run back towards the building.

“Bain! No!” Sigrid yelled and tried to chase after him, grabbing his shirt. However, the eight year old was still determined to get to his Father and wrenched himself from her grip. “Bain please, don’t leave me alone!” She yelled and went to run after him herself, but found that she was being forcibly held back by someone much bigger than her.

“Let me go!” She shouted, clawing at the arms grasping her “I need to go rescue my brother!”

“It’s too late.” Said the cold voice. “He’s already dead. There’s nothing you can do and there is no sense is killing yourself.”

Sigrid gazed up in horror as the entire first floor of the mansion went up in smoke. She dropped to the floor in heaving sobs, unable to regain any sense of composure. She stayed there all night, refusing to move from her spot as the fire burnt through the house until it finally ran out of energy and people were able to go back in to douse the last of the flames and check for survivors.

Sigrid closed her eyes and wished for her Fairy Godmother to return, to make things right and to have her family live. But once again, he did not appear.

She was left alone in the darkness with nothing but her sorrow. 

A few weeks later, Sigrid stood at the graves of her family. There had been not much left to bury, but enough bone fragments had been put together to lay into three coffins. Tilda’s had looked so horrifyingly small as it was buried into the ground beside her father’s. She stood there in the bright sunshine of the day, and thought back to the times she used to run around in the field and sing to the birds.

Their song usually provided her comfort, but today it seemed that they were in mourning as well, their tunes a low loment that hummed throughout the woods. Their Father’s will was being read that afternoon, but Sigrid didn’t need to be told what was inside it. She already knew.

The estate would be passed onto a distant cousin of her father by the name of Edgar Masterson. A greedy man, she knew that no good would come from his possession of the lands. Her Father had also known this and had made arrangements for people to buy their own land at a fraction of the cost should they choose to do so- although it seemed unlikely that Masterson would allow this to happen. Originally, it had been Sigrid who was due to inherit the farmhouse she’d grown up in, however, as Thranduil was now Bard’s next of kin, it had been he who inherited the house.

It was where they were living now, and Thranduil was already treating her like a slave. The staff belonged to the manner, and although Thranduil had been wealthy, most of his money had been pilled into the estate and thus now belonged to Lord Masterson. As such, it was Sigrid who was expected to do all the cooking and all the cleaning because Valar forbid that any of the Mirkwood family should lift a finger to help. She sighed. She knew there was no use in fighting it. At only sixteen, there was nowhere else she could go. If she disobeyed him, she knew Thranduil would only marry her off to the highest bidder or else banish her from the household entirely. She knew which one she’d prefer.

She gazed upon the graves of her family and whispered that she’d come see them again soon. As she travelled back to the place that used to be her home, she thought back on the strange man who’d visited her almost 8 years ago, proclaiming to be her Fairy Godmother. She knew now that that couldn't have been true. He’d never come for her and he never would. It was just all part of some game she’d been too naïve to realise wasn’t true.

As she got to the entrance to the farmhouse, she rolled up her sleeves, hitched up her skirts and began to whistle a tune for the birds to join in with. They gave her strength and made things seem a little brighter somehow. So long as she had birdsong, her family would never truly be gone from her.

Looking from the world of the Istari, Gandalf turned to Saruman with a pleading expression.

“Please may we help the poor girl out now?”

“I told you Gandalf, we are not to medal in the affairs to the simple folk. This young girl, what is she going to be able to accomplish? Her life is so unimportant in the grand scheme of things, why waste your time?”

“Her life is very important indeed Lord Saruman! She has so much potential within her if only you would look more closely!”

“Gandalf is correct.” Said a beautiful voice from behind them, causing the two wizards to jump “The Lady Sigrid is needed still. Our time has come, Gandalf. The fates dictate it.”

“She shall go to the ball then?” he asked his eyes twinkling with mischief

“He shall indeed Mithrandir.” Smiled the Lady of the Woods

“Excellent. I do like a party.”

“My Lady” began Lord Saruman “I do hope you know what you are doing.”

“Only time itself will be able to tell us what will happen.” She smiled and took Gandalf’s arm and lead him down the path back towards the mortal world. They only had a year left to make sure everyone and everything was in place.

Chapter Text

Make the fire, fix the breakfast, do the mopping and then the dusting; Sigrid’s day was full of hard work and elbow grease that never seemed to stop. There was always something that needed doing, and if there wasn’t then Thranduil would certainly come up with a gruelling task to keep her occupied. Yesterday it was polishing all of Legolas’s riding gear, the day before that it was beating the carpets (a task she’d already done not a week ago) and today it was weeding the garden.

Sigrid had no idea where all the thistles and nettles came from, but she certainly never remembered there being so many! “Some birthday this is turning out to be.” She grumbled, wiping the sweat from her brow. It was her 18^th, the day she was meant to be an adult, yet she’d felt as though she’d been performing the task the last seven years. Her 17^th had involved her staying up late embroidering a leaf motif for Legolas’s shirt, and she suspected this birthday to amount to about the same.

She looked up and saw Tauriel marching towards her, no doubt with another task for her to complete. Perhaps Thranduil wanted her to clean the bathroom for a third time that day?

Out of the two of them, Tauriel was her favourite stepsibling, however, she hardly ever stood up for Sigrid. Her occasional moments of kindness didn’t over shadow the fact that she treated Sigrid as a maid rather than a sibling.

“Good morning Tauriel, how may I help you on this fine day?” She asked, clambering to her feet and stretching her back.

“Good morning Sigrid, I hope your birthday is going well.”

Sigrid laughed at the notion, but was grateful that at least someone had remembered. “It’s going as well as to be expected, thank you for asking.”

“I was hoping you could perform a task for me.” Smiled Tauriel,

Sigrid sighed, expecting the worse “I’ve still got weeding to do here. But afterward, sure, what is it?”

“Father has asked me to gather some game for him to present to men at the club.”

Which meant selling it on the black market, Sigrid had learnt. It was Tauriel's job to gather any game she could (venison, pheasant, boar, whatever made the mistake of crossing her path) and then Legolas would find someone willing to buy. Hunting in the King’s Forrest was illegal without a license, but these were hard to obtain and expensive to purchase. Tauriel could move swiftly through the trees and if she was caught then the guard would go easier on her because she was just a woman following the orders of her adoptive father.

Sigrid envied Tauriel’s freedom. Thranduil didn’t trust Sigrid with a weapon, even though she’d been shooting since she was old enough to hold a bow, and wouldn’t risk letting her out of his sight for too long in case she tried to escape and Thranduil was left to find another person willing to work for free. Sigrid had nowhere else to go though. Whenever she’d managed to find a moment to sneak out of the house and go for a ride through her father’s lands, she’d always come back before anyone noticed she was gone. This place wasn’t a home, but it had been once, and maybe it could be again, if she just wished for it hard enough.

“I was wondering” began Tauriel “If you fancied doing it for me? I find myself in the mood for some gardening.”

Sigrid stared at her wide-eyed “Are you sure?” She asked “I mean, really sure, if Thranduil were to find out…”

“Father was out drinking last night, and has retired to his chambers once more. I suspect he will not notice your absence until dinnertime. I’m certain I can handle things for now.” She handed Sigrid her bow, a beautiful thing made from seasoned Yew and decorated with an intricate pattern of leaves. Tauriel had made it herself and did not even allow Legolas to touch it, let alone trust him with using it unaccompanied!

“Are you sure?” Asked Sigrid, holding the bow reverently in her hands.

“Well it is your birthday.” Smiled her stepsister “And after all, in these times women have to show mutual support. Plus I’ve seen you using it before, when you sneak out at night to the forest, I trust you to weald her well.”

Sigrid blushed, but gripped the bow tighter in her hands.

“Go, before I change my mind.” Smiled Tauriel, handing her a wrist guard.

“Thank you so much! This is the nicest thing anyone has done for me in so long!” Sigrid flung her arms around Tauriel’s waist, leaving the woman quite baffled, but patted her gently on the back.

“Well isn’t that a dreadful thought.” She murmured as she watched Sigrid running off towards the forest.

Tauriel turned to the vegetable patch and surveyed what surrounded her.

“Now what’s a weed and what’s a vegetable?”

*

Sometimes, there were just days when Fíli had to get out of the castle. When his uncle’s lecturers grew too tiresome, and the air too stuffy. When the weight of all the responsibility he was due to inherit grew too much for him and he just had to escape into the fresh air and be alone for a while, away from the constant nannying of Balin and the ever present royal guards.

Sometimes, Kíli would come with him, and they’d sneak past the maids and the cooks, pinching some fresh cakes as they did so, and run out of the back door without being caught. They’d go off and play in the fields near the castle, laughing and joking like they used to when they were children, free from the knowledge of their impending responsibilities. So often Fíli felt a tad envious of Kíli, being the younger of the two, Kíli would never have to shoulder the same responsibilities as Fíli did, nor would he face as much punishment should they be caught. However, the feeling never lasted long as he looked upon the grinning face of his brother as he told him about whatever new maid or lady-in-waiting he’d fallen for.

As much as he loved his brother though, there were days where he just wanted to be alone.  Just to sit under the trees of the woods and breath in their earthy smells, so different from the cold stonewalls of the castle. He’d lie back and gaze up at the canopy and for a moment he’d feel at peace with the rest of the world, his head no longer buzzing with the nagging feeling that he aught to be back at the castle helping Balin sort out trade agreements or helping Thorin to prepare his next speech. Today was one of those days.

*

Sigrid gently walked through the forest, conscious of every small sound her footsteps made and trying to minimise her breathing. Every now and then a thrush would sing out, telling her where her prey was heading. She was tracking a stag that, if the size tracks were to be believed, would fetch a pretty penny from the market. Maybe she’d be able to sneak away some of the hide to patch up her father’s old winter coat?

After a few minutes she spotted it, a magnificent beast with six prongs on its antlers. It had to be one of the biggest kills of the year if she was able to land it. She drew an arrow carefully from her quiver and gently slotted it into place. She slowed her breathing and concentrated on the animal, taking a careful aim and pulled back the string slowly, never keeping her eye off of her target. She was just about to release the arrow when

“I wouldn’t be doing that if I were you!”

Sigrid jumped and released the arrow by mistake, it flew high into the air and completely missed her target. The startled stag raced off deeper into the woods and out of sight.

“Damn.” Cursed Sigrid and turned around to see who had interrupted her. Her intruder turned out to be a young man, very well dressed in the same fine clothes as Legolas wore, but with fur trimmings around the collar and cuffs. He had a very grand beard for someone who could only be a couple of years older than her, which was the same golden colour as his hair, the plaits and length indicating that he was a Clansman by birth.

“Why did you do that?” she asked, exasperated “It’s taken me all day to track that down, now what am I meant to bring home?”

“Hunting in the king’s forest.” Tutted the man “You know that’s illegal without a licence?”

“And you’re going to hand me in, are you?” asked Sigrid, feeling braver than perhaps she aught to be. The boy didn’t respond, only continued to look at her with a smirk plastered across his face “You’re not going to hand me in, are you?” she asked hesitantly

“Well, I really aught to you know. Civic duty and all that.”

“The king barely uses these forests anyway. Is he really going to miss one deer?”

“A deer that size? I’m sure he would.”

“Ha! King Thorin knows more about the contents of his treasury than he does about the beings in this forest, and cares significantly less for them. He’s more likely to start a search party for a gold coin than he is one deer!”

For some reason, the young man found this hysterical, his deep laughter bellowing out across the trees and startling the birds. Sigrid gave out another groan of frustration, if she didn’t bring something back soon, not only would Thranduil notice she’d gone missing, but Tauriel would get into trouble as well for not delivering the game as promised.

“Do you ever shut up?” She asked the stranger “Either hand me in or let me go. Make a decision.” She huffed and picked up her skirts as she began to call out to the thrushes, asking them if there was anything nearby to eat.

“Rabbits! Pheasant! Grouse!” they called back to her. Sigrid sighed, she’d have to catch a great many to make up for the time she’d lost tracking the stag. She began to move towards their voices when the stranger called after her

“Wait! Where are you going?”

“Not your concern.” She called back

“I still haven’t decided if I’m going to hand you into the authorities yet or not.” He laughed, chasing after her.

“I’m guessing that should you have chosen to hand me in, you’d have tried to drag me away by now.” She said, raising an eyebrow “If you’re trying to arrest me, I think you’re doing a bad job of it.”

The boy laughed again, “I like you Miss…”

“None of Your Business.”

“Miss None of Your Business. What are you doing out here in the forest alone anyway, other than the obvious” he added hastily when Sigrid indicated towards her bow “Haven’t you got a brother with you? Or you father perhaps? It’s dangerous out here all alone.”

Sigrid raised her bow again giving him a sarcastic smile “I’m well protected, don't you worry.”

“Hey, if I was able to sneak up on you, who’s to say someone much worse couldn’t either?”

“You mean someone more annoying than you?”

“Why yes indeed. I’m actually a regular Prince Charming, or so I’m told.” He winked

“I’m starting to see that already. Tell me, do you talk to all women this way, or just the ones you plan on arresting?”

The boy’s grin spread wider “This I do all for you Miss None of Your Business.” He gave her a deep bow “You still haven’t quite answered my question, why is a beautiful young girl illegally hunting deer in The King’s Forrest all by herself?”

Sigrid hesitated, unsure how to answer this. She decided upon the truth. “It’s my birthday, and as my birthday treat my Stepsister has given me the job of collecting the game my Stepfather sells at the market.”

“The black market you mean.”

“You didn’t hear it from me, Prince Charming.” She smiled and continued on tracking the deer.

“Some birthday present.” He grinned, keeping pace with her, though his voice had dropped lower now as she scanned the area for wildlife “Shouldn’t you be relaxing in the sunshine and unwrapping presents rather than spending your day working?”

“Believe me. This is an improvement on my original plans.”

“Which were?”

“Getting sunburn from working in the garden all day until I had to go inside and prepare dinner, light the fires, clean the dishes, scrub the floors, wipe down the tables and make sure everyone’s clothes were laid out ready for the morning.”

“Sounds awful.” Said the boy, sympathetically “Do you do that everyday?”

“Most days” she smiled “Sometimes I sneak out to the forest for some target practice.” She spotted something out of the corner of her eye then and let an arrow fly. It was a pheasant; she’d caught it right in the eye, killing it instantly without damaging any of the meat.

The boy gave out a low whistle “My my Miss None Of Your Business, you sure can shoot. Who taught you? I’m sure you’d give even my bro- even the prince a run for his money!”

Sigrid shrugged “From what I’ve heard he’s just a bit of a show off. Tauriel, my stepsister, is no doubt far better than he is, but my Da was the expert. Nobody could ever be as good as him. He once got three grouse with one arrow! Not even he knew how he managed that one, but he did all the same.”

She grinned to herself, a small smile at the memory of his laughing face brining home enough meat for the four of them- back when her siblings and him were still alive and everyone was happy.

“I know that look.” He said quietly “You’ve lost your father too, haven’t you?” Sigrid nodded as she went to pick up the dead pheasant.

“Two years now. Died in a fire with my little sister and brother.”

“That’s awful, I’m so sorry… what about your mother, is she still around?”

Sigrid shook her head “Died in childbirth when I was eleven.” She removed the arrow with a little more force than was probably necessary.

“Dad died when I was nine.” He said quietly “Then my Uncle when I was eleven.”

“I’m sorry.” Said Sigrid simply, meeting the boy’s gaze for the first time “That must have been hard.”

The boy shrugged, “I’ve still got my little brother, and my mum. My other Uncle’s not been the same since, but it’s not all so bad. Plus you’ve got your stepfamily.” He prompted. Sigrid stayed silent at that and just went about trying the bird’s legs together to make it easier to carry.

“As good as all that then?”

“Tauriel’s alright, she’s kind when she remembers to be. Legolas isn’t that bad, just a bit of a peacock. My stepfather, on the other hand, doesn’t like the fact that we’re now poor and resents having to look after me. So naturally I have to do all the work around the house. But at least it’s a roof over my head and food in my belly. More than many people round here can brag. What about you? What do you do?”

The boy coughed awkwardly “I’m sort of an apprentice, working with Master Balin, up at the castle.”

“Nice work if you can get it.” Remarked Sigrid, hoisting the bird up on her shoulder and continuing to move through the forest once more

“I’m very lucky to have it.” He nodded solemnly “Look,” he said quickly changing the subject “Do you want me to hold that.” He indicated the pheasant “That way, you’ll be able to move more freely, and you’ll have a better chance of catching more. I promise not to walk away with them.” He said holding his hands in the air “I work in the castle, remember? Free food and all that. Plus there’s no way I’d be allowed in with illegal game.”

Sigrid eyed him warily. The boy was certainly charming, but there was an honesty about him that made Sigrid trust him. He hadn’t yet turned her in, anyway.

“This isn’t just some sort of plan to get me caught red handed?” She frowned

“Cross my heart.” He grinned and held out his hands for the bird. Sigrid warily placed it into his arms and continued searching for her next shot.

After only another twenty minutes, Sigrid had been able to catch four rabbit, another two pheasants and three grouse. It wouldn’t provide nearly as much money as the deer would have, but it was enough for a less-than-honest days hunt, and she still had to carry it back to the farmhouse unnoticed. How she’d have achieved this with the stag she didn’t know, but if Tauriel could do it then she certainly could have, even if her stepsister was a good head taller than her with a surprising amount of strength for one so willowy.

“Where do you want these then, Miss None of Your Business?” asked Mr Prince Charming, for that was what she called him now, as they made their way out of the forest and into the surrounding meadow.

“Just leave them with me, I’ll be alright with them from here. I’d say thank you for your help, if you hadn’t have been such a hindrance earlier.”

“It’s my pleasure, Miss None, for I do believe we are now surely on first name terms?” his eyes twinkled with mischief and Sigrid found herself blushing. Nobody had really paid this kind of attention to her before, let alone someone as handsome as Mr Prince Charming.

“That is very forward of you, Mr Charming.” She smirked “But by all means, call me Miss None if you so please, or” she hesitated “you could use my real name… Sigird.”

“Sigrid.” Breathed the boy, as though the word had a special magic to it “A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

“It is usually customary to exchange names, or is your name really Prince Charming?”

The boy gave out a nervous laugh “No, no it’s not Prince Charming. I’m not a Prince of any kind, really, my actual name is, um, is Fee.”

“Fee?” she grinned, “You don’t sound so certain of that yourself.”

“Well, it’s what people call me.” He shrugged, he paused for a moment, clearly thinking about something, “Sigrid.” He said thoughtfully

“Yes Fee?”

“If you know that this is the King’s Forrest, then why didn’t you go hunting in Lórien Wood, where the King doesn’t hold domain?”

Sigrid blinked at him, thinking the answer obvious “Because that’s where the Eldar live. It’s their sacred space; it wouldn’t do to hunt amongst their trees. Not even the King would dare to do so anymore!”

This seemed to be the correct answer as Fee’s eyes began to shine with admiration at the young woman in front of him. “I do believe that I still owe you a birthday present.” He grinned, “Though I don’t believe I have anything on me, save for one thing, if you’ll permit me?” he asked, putting down the game and reaching out for her hand, which she gave gladly.

He took it gently in his own soft hand, making Sigrid acutely aware of how callused her own must be, and felt him brush a whiskery kiss to it. The moment was brief, and chaste- not like the occasional fumble she’d had with the farmer’s son from the property over from theirs. It was innocent and yet still full of expectation of things to come as he looked up at her through his eyelashes. Sigrid noticed that his eyes matched the colour of the sky just before the sun began to set and she let out a small breath she hadn’t been aware she was holding.

Suddenly, the moment was broken by a shout “Fee! What are you doing over there?” a boy of about seventeen, taller than Fee, with dark hair instead of light and the first shadow of stubble across his chin, was riding over to them. He looked between the pair of them

“Uncle’s furious! Where have you been all day?”

“Kee. How good to see you, Kee. What are you doing here, Kee? Is anyone else with you, Kee?”

“Why do you keep saying my name like that? And hello, Madame” he said, dismounting from his regal looking horse and bowing to Sigrid “A pleasure to meet you, is The Prince treating you well?”

“Ha ha ha ha ha good old Kee, always keeping up the joke that I’m Prince Charming! When really I’m just plain old Fee.”

“You must be Fee’s brother. Your names even rhyme.” Smiled Sigrid “That’s rather sweet.”

“Yes, I suppose it is.” Said Kee raising an eyebrow “You are still yet to tell me your name though, Madame.”

“Sigrid,” she said, putting her hand out to greet him. “Are you apprenticed at the castle as well then?” The boy was dressed in similar garments to his brother, so it would make sense if they worked together.

“I guess so.” Said Kee, squinting slightly at his brother. He looked down at where the game sat on the ground and gave a start, “Have you two been hunting in the forest? Goodness me Fee! If Uncle finds out he’ll blow his top off!”

Just then, another voice bellowed through the woods. “Kíli! Have you found him yet?” Fee threw his brother a panicked look which Sigird shared,

“Kíli? Is the Prince about? If he catches us we’re dead!” She was starting to panic now, and was gathering up her catch “Come on Fee! We have to run!”

The brothers exchanged glances, Fee looked nervous whilst Kee just looked amused by the whole situation.

“You run on, Sigrid, I’ll go and distract him.”

Sigrid stared at Fee “You'd do that, for me?” she asked

“Anything for my Miss None Of Your Business.” He bowed and his brother rolled his eyes.

The voice from before was getting louder now, and Sigrid could hear the horses getting nearer, there must be more than one person looking for them!

Not thinking particularly straight, Sigrid gave a quick kiss to Fee’s cheek and ran down the hill, carrying her ill-gotten gains.

Crowned Prince Fíli of Clan Longbeard, first in line to the throne of Erebor and heir to Durin The Great stared after her, a sappy grin spreading across his face.

“You’ve got it baaaaaaad.” Smirked his brother, Prince Kíli of Clan Longbeard, future Lord of the Blue Mountains and heir to Durin The Great.

“Why did you bring Dwalin with you!” hissed his brother, hitting him on the shoulder “I told you to make sure to bring one of the others if Uncle sent you looking for me!”

“I’m sorry.” Whispered his brother “I didn’t have much say in the matter! And don’t hit me. It’s illegal to hit royalty.”

“Not if you’re first in line to the throne.” Retorted his brother, giving him a playful shove. “I always make sure I have Eiri or Fráin with me when Uncle sends me looking for you.”

“Yeah well, that’s because you’re his heir and I’m just the spare. I hope she was worth it you know” said Kíli, climbing back onto his horse “You said you’d be gone twenty minutes, but it’s been closer to three hours. No doubt she was to blame.”

Fíli traipsed along after him “She had no idea who I was Kee.” He smiled “No idea at all. It was amazing, I could just be, you know, me around her.”

“Well I’m glad you had fun, because chances are you’ll never see her again, as Uncle will have locked you up in jail for the rest of your life, leaving poor little old me to take over the throne in your stead.”

“Yeah. She was worth it.” He grinned, looking back at where Sigrid had run off to and trying to figure out where she might have gone “Definitely worth it.”

Fíli took a deep breath, stealing himself for the worst to come “Dwalin abâd! Kíli found me, I’m alright. I’m coming. You can execute me in a minute.”

“You got that right Laddie.” Growled the captain. Fíli let out a small laugh, and went to face the music.

Chapter Text

The first thing Sigrid noticed when she got back, was that Tauriel had done an awful job of weeding the garden. The tops of the carrots had been plucked away and there were still thistles nestled amongst the rose bushes.

Oh well she thought at least the purple goes well with the red.

The second thing she noticed, was that the door had been left open. Cautiously, Sigrid stepped into the building, placing the kill on the kitchen table and hanging Tauriel’s bow up on its hook by the door. She began to busy herself washing her hands for dinner, when a voice in the corner spoke up

“And where, pray tell, have you been?”

Sigrid jumped out of her skin as she turned around to face her Stepfather, who’d practically leapt out of the shadows and was towering above her, causing her to back up against the cooker.

“I was just out for a walk.” She said hastily “I finished the gardening so I just-”

“Did I give you permission to leave the house?”

“No Stepfather but”

“But nothing. Do you imagine my disappointment in you when I awoke to find that there was no lunch prepared for me? That it had been Tauriel working in the garden that I instructed you to weed? That you were neglecting your duties meaning that Tauriel would not be able to go on the hunt?”

“I’m sorry Stepfather, I thought that, given it was my birthday you wouldn’t mind if”

“I may have, had you asked permission. But you went behind my back. And what is this here?” he said indicating the game resting on the table

“It’s the game from today’s hunt, the work you wanted done has been completed so I didn’t think you’d mind too much if”

“This is of no use to me!” he scoffed “A few measly birds and skinny rabbits. How do you expect me to sell these? I’ll get barely enough for one new boot, let alone a new cloak and scarf! There is a reason Tauriel goes on the hunt and not you.”

“There was a stag! But someone scared it and it got away, I thought these would be of equal value to it. Look, the pheasants are plump and young, they should taste delicious if cooked properly.”

Thranduil scoffed and backed away “These are only suitable for the dogs.” He picked up the animals and threw them towards the dog bowl, where his large mastiff began to bite into them, getting blood and feathers everywhere.

She knew her stepfather could be cruel, but to throw away good meat! To loose a days work? Over something so petty?

Sigrid leapt forward to try and grab them back, but she was pinned back by Thranduil. “Luckily, Legolas was able to lend Tauriel his own bow, so we still have meat to sell.” He hissed “You are never to perform this kind of behaviour again. Do not forget who it is who owns this house, who provides your food, your shelter and the very clothes on your back.”

Sigrid glared at him, thinking that whilst the house was his as was the income, it was her who kept the house in order, repaired their clothes and grew all the vegetables which it was then her job to cook. But she didn’t say anything in response to him.

“Now I want you to cook a four course meal for tonight. You are to use the game Tauriel caught.” He indicated the birds on the side that she had missed earlier. “Mr Smaug is coming for dinner and I want him to see us at our best.”

Sigrid let out a groan. Mr Smaug was one of the richest men in the county, most of it made through crime. There wasn’t a deal that went down that Smaug didn’t know about, nor one that he didn’t make a profit from. His wealth knew no bounds, but he was always out to make more.

Smaug often came to visit the farmhouse. He helped Thranduil sell on the game he caught in exchange for a small consultants fee. Thranduil had been speaking for months now about getting access to wealthier clients, clearly Smaug was going to make his wish come true.

“Oh.” Added her stepfather as he exited the room “Mr Smaug has asked specifically for you to serve us tonight. I’ve asked Tauriel to lend you one of her old dresses to fix up. We can’t have you serving our guest in those old rags now, can we? Consider it my birthday gift to you.” He smirked

When he left, Sigrid flopped down in a chair and placed her head in her hands. Mr Smaug was a creep. Whenever he came round, he’d always ask to see her and refused to take his eyes off of her whenever she was in the room. He had a way of moving that always made Sigrid think of a serpent eyeing up its prey. He made her uneasy and normally when he came round she’d hide away in the kitchen for most of the evening. Clearly tonight, she wasn’t going to have that option.

When she was younger, she might have called out to her apparent Fairy Godmother to come and rescue her from this beast, but she’d given up on that a long time ago. Instead, she began to hum a half-remembered song her mother would sing when times were hard.

Lavender’s blue

Dilly dilly,

Lavenders green

She went to pick up the pheasants and began to pluck them outside, it would take a while for dinner to be prepared and she’d lost the best part of the afternoon hunting with Fee.

When I am King,

Dilly Dilly,

You shall be Queen

Fíli couldn’t help but think about Sigrid all through the ride home. Dwalin was berating him for his poor behaviour and for neglecting his duties for so long, but Fíli found it easy enough to tune out, finding himself humming a song he didn’t think he knew. He wished that he could get the chance to know her better, but Kíli and Dwalin were right. He had a duty to perform, and that could never include marrying a commoner.

Who told you so,

Dilly dilly,

Who told you so?

Sigrid thought about all Fee had said and done. It was rare to find someone with shared life experience. He’d spoken about what it felt like to have so much responsibility on his shoulders, how he felt like after the death of his father it was his duty to care for his little brother. She felt that if only given a chance, they could have something really special together, just like her mother and father had had, though she had where this idea was coming from.

T’was my own heart

Dilly dilly,

That told me so.

When Fíli got back to the castle, Thorin had been furious. Even though there’d been nothing important on that day, just some lessons with Balin, it was apparently not done to leave without any notice or guards. He was once again, banned from the leaving the castle and ordered to muck out the entire royal stable as punishment.

Call up your men,

Dilly dilly,

Set them to work.

As Sigrid began to prepare the meat for cooking by rubbing it with fresh herbs from the garden, her mind began to drift to a world where she might be doing this for Fee and their own little family. Where they might have their own farm away from all of this.

Some to the plow

Dilly dilly,

Some to the fork

As Fíli shovelled manure into a bucket, humming merrily as he did so, he wondered what it would be like if this was his life’s work, if he was just a stable boy and not a prince. If Sigrid was by his side, he thought that perhaps it couldn’t be as bad a life as Thorin might present it to be.

Some to make hay,

Dilly dilly,

Some to cut corn.

Sigrid began to roughly chop vegetables to roast with the pheasant. She could leave it in the oven whilst she fixed Tauriel’s dress so as it would suit her better, taking it out at the chest and taking up the hem at the bottom. The kitchen was warm from the oven, and the smell of the roast pheasant began to waft through the house.

While you and I

Dilly dilly

Keep ourselves warm.

Fíli gently stroked the horse, Phillip, he’d just cleaned out and smiled softly to himself, still humming the tune. Despite his uncle’s anger, he hadn’t felt this content in quite sometime.

Lavender’s green,

Dilly dilly,

Lavender’s blue.

She examined the dress Tauriel had left her. It was a few seasons out of date, but was still quite beautiful in its simplicity. Whilst she’d have preferred one in periwinkle blue, she was quite content with the leaf green. She wondered what Fee would make of it, she wished she was wearing it for him and not Mr Smaug. She gently sang to herself, imagining dancing with him till well past the chimes of midnight.

If you love me,

Dilly dilly,

I will love you

The sun was beginning to set on the day, and the birds were chirping in the trees, calling out to one another to bid them goodnight. Fíli thought back to the way Sigrid seemed to be able to communicate with them someway. People of Durin’s folk were able to communicate with ravens, it was true, but he’d never heard of anyone who could sing as beautifully as her.

Let the birds sing,

Dilly dilly,

Let the lambs play

Sigrid looked out of the window at the setting sun. She began to sing her song aloud for the birds to join in. So long as she had music, she felt as though nothing could go wrong, it was her one form of escape from this world.

We shall be safe,

Dilly dilly,

Out of harms way.

Fíli began to prepare himself for dinner. His mother had spoken to his uncle earlier, and had managed to placate him so long as he apologised properly. As he tied his belt around his waist he began to sway on the spot, imitating the steps he’d been taught as a child during Dori’s dance lessons.

I love to dance

Dilly dilly,

I love to sing.

Sigrid’s song was filled with the days events, her anger at her stepfather, her feeling of freedom in the forest, her fear of Smaug, but mostly of her meeting with Fee. It felt like such a relief to get it all out in the open. Song was her one connection to her family, and the life of a lady she might have had, a life of love and ease.

When I am Queen,

Dilly dilly

You’ll be my King.

It wasn’t fair, decided Fíli. He wished he had the same rights as everyone else. To be able to choose who he could be with, rather than have his choices made for him. He could never be with Sigrid. It was high time he accepted that, and put the day’s memories away forever.

Who told me so,

Dilly dilly,

Who told me so?

Sigrid smoothed down her dress and looked in the mirror. Even she could recognise that the dress made her look regal and more beautiful than she had in a long while. Still, it remained as a reminder of everything she could not have, and that included Fee. There was no way her stepfather would agree to the match. She decided it would be better to forget him altogether, and tell herself that even if she did have a choice, he’d never go for someone as dull and as poor as her. Not when he had an entire castle of pretty ladies to choose from.

I told myself

Dilly dilly,

I told me so.

Fee picked up his neckerchief and went down to dinner, knowing that he could not avoid his uncle forever.

There was a knock at the farmhouse door, and Sigrid sighed, steeling herself for the onslaught that was about to come.

Chapter Text

When Sigrid opened the door, Mr Smaug was standing there ready. Many of the women of the town might think him handsome, with his high cheek bones and amber eyes, however, to Sigrid, he would always have the appearance of a giant lizard.

His eyes raked over her and he licked his lips as though in anticipation.

“My Lady” he crooned, his voice deep and husky from years of smoking tobacco “you look more beautiful by the day. And what a lovely dress you are wearing.” He trailed a finger down the long sleeve, making Sigrid gulp involuntary. Smaug’s eyes rested on her throat as she did so.

“Mr Smaug.” She replied, bobbing in a quick curtsey “A pleasure to see you as always.”

“No no my darling, the pleasure” he said, extending the sibilance of the word, making him sound more snake like than ever “is all mine.” He grabbed hold of her hand without permission, and pressed a wet kiss to the back.

Sigrid pulled it away quickly, not able to hide her look of disgusted horror. Smaug gave out a low chuckle, his smile showing off each one of this blackened teeth.

“Stepfather is in the lounge, waiting for you. If you’ll just follow me.” She said quickly.

“Why of course.” He said, almost with a hiss. He took a hold of Sigrid’s arm in his, looping them together as though he were escorting her to a ball and not being lead by her to her own lounge.

Sigrid faked a smile as best she could, and guided Smaug to the room. Thranduil was sitting comfortably in one of the plush armchairs, swirling a glass of wine he’d poured himself. On seeing Smaug enter he leapt to his feet, his eyes glancing between the pair of them with a smirk on his face.

“Mr Smaug” he smiled “I am so grateful that you could join us for dinner tonight.” He said stepping forward to take Smaug’s hand, though the man did not extend his own. Thranduil looked lost for a moment before clapping his hands together and pointed towards the drinks cabinet.

“May I interest you in something to drink before dinner?”

“That depends, what do you have to offer me? Sigrid” he said turning his head to face her, cocking it slightly to examine her “You’ve prepared dinner I assume, what would you recommend?”

“Well, I’ve prepared some lovely fresh pheasant with a rosemary and thyme garnish, so perhaps some white wine would go down well?” She moved to put the drinks table between Smaug and herself.

“Pheasant?” Said Smaug in mock outrage “Thranduil, you promised me venison. Tut tut tut, if you’re unable to keep your promises, I’m not sure I should trust you with my top clients. They can be, ah, quite demanding.”

“A simple slip up, Mr Smaug, I’m sure you’ll forgive us, there was a misunderstanding earlier as to who's turn it was to gather the game, I’ve been assured that it will never happen again.” He threw a warning glance at Sigrid and she shied away back into the shadows as best she could.

Smaug gave a low rumble at the back of his throat, but accepted the glass of wine Thranduil handed to him. “Tell me, my lady, what has happened since I last saw you?”

“Not a lot, Mr Smaug, I have been continuing my duties as a good lady should.”

“It’s such a shame for a beautiful young woman as yourself to be forced to work your life away” Smaug glanced at Thranduil briefly before pinning his eyes back on Sigird “when you could be living your as a true lady of this world, why surely you must be of a marriageable age by now?” his amber eyes were lit with a fire that made the hairs on the back of Sigrid’s neck prickle.

“If you excuse me, Sir, I must go see to the dinner.” She gave a quick curtsey before rushing off down the stairs where she almost barrelled into Tauriel and Legolas, who were just exiting their chambers.

“Slow down girl.” Chided Legolas, brushing down his tunic, and checking his appearance in the hallway mirror.

“Sorry, Legolas” said Sigird, before hurrying towards the kitchen

“Is everything alright Sigrid?” called Tauriel “Dinner’s not burning is it?”

“No, everything’s fine. Mr Smaug is here is all, I need to make sure there’s enough for everyone and um, stuff.”

Tauriel nodded after her stepsister and turned to face Legolas, who offered her his arm. “You’d think a girl like her would be happy to receive Mr Smaug’s affections. He’s a very rich man, he could make her very happy.”

“Not all of us seek riches in this world, brother. Some seek happiness and love as well.”

“And what can make a person happier than the lovely sight of a new pair of leather riding boots? Or a diamond broach imported from Rivendell?”

Tauriel laughed and patted her brother’s arm fondly “One day you’ll learn, Legolas. One day I’m sure.”

Back down in the kitchens, Sigrid took a deep breath and poured herself a glass of water from the jug. She’d fancy something stronger, but knew better than to loose her wits on tonight of all nights. She went to the oven to inspect the pheasant. She poked it with a fork to test it and saw that it should only take another hour to be perfect. The carrot and coriander soup was already to go, and she had a cake ready to be baked once the pheasant was out.

She dallied for as long as possible, setting out everything ready on the counter and moving things from side to side. Eventually though, she had no excuses left, and travelled upstairs to inform them that dinner was ready.

The family from Mirkwood and Mr Smaug made their way into the dining room, Smaug once more insisting that Sigrid take his arm, even though she was serving.

Sigrid was glad to be away once more and carried the bowls of hot soup into the dining room. Smaug sucked at his spoon, making a slurping noise that had Legolas grinding his teeth in mild frustration at the man’s poor table manners.

“Why, this soup is delicious, my lady, did you make it yourself?”

“Sigrid does all the cooking, and grows all the vegetables herself. She’s a very talented woman.” Said Tauriel, proudly.

Sigrid winced at her words. Tauriel was just trying to be kind once more, but she really didn’t need people telling Smaug that she was a worthier prize than he already thought of her.

“I am very impressed, my lady, I see that your stepfather should have no problem in finding you a husband when the time arises. How old are you know Sigrid?”

“Sigrid turns eighteen today.” Replied Thranduil on her behalf, smirking slightly.

“Is that so Sigrid?” said Legolas blinking up at her. “You never said. I suppose I aught to wish you a happy birthday then.” He commented, before turning back to his soup.

“Thank you, Legolas” said Sigrid, trying not to let her frustration show.

“Eighteen?” mused Smaug, his eyes travelling up and down her body with keen interest “A fine age indeed.” He shared a knowing look at Thranduil which made Sigrid inherently nervous. Surely Thranduil wouldn’t force her to marry him? He couldn’t, surely?

“Well, it looks like you’re all finished now, I’ll just clear the plates and fetch you your mains then.”

“Allow me to help.” Said Smaug, stacking the bowls on top of one another

“No, it’s quite alright, sir, I can manage.” She snatched them out of his hands and rushed out of the door.

The evening didn’t really get any better than that. Whenever she came along with a new dish, Smaug would insist on keeping her there to talk to, his comments getting more and more suggestive the more he drank.

Thranduil seemed to only encourage the man, no doubt thinking that if Sigrid could make him happy, then Smaug would want to make Thranduil happy in return. Legolas seemed simply bemused by the whole situation, whilst Tauriel’s frown got deepened with each sentence spoken between them.

Sigrid heaved a great sigh of relief once the cheeseboard was empty and the meal would come to a close. They would retire to the lounge to play cards for an hour, and Sigrid could sit peacefully in her kitchen washing the dishes. Or so she hoped.

She was just starting them when Tauriel came into the kitchen, looking for her. “Mr Smaug insists that you come and play rummy with us.” She said dubiously, “I tried to tell him that you would be busy working, but father insisted that you were to come anyway.”

Sigrid took in a deep breath “It’s quite alright Tauriel. I’ll go.” She got to her feet and went to go out the door, but Tauriel grabbed her by the arm

“You do not have to go if you do not want to.” She said firmly. “I do not want you to make you anymore uncomfortable than you already are.”

Sigrid brushed her stepsister off “If I don’t go, what would Thranduil say? I’d be kicked out onto the streets. I’m eighteen now Tauriel, he’s no longer my guardian, meaning he can do with me as he wishes without fear of the law.” She pushed past her and traipsed into the room.

“Sigrid. Come play with us” smiled Smaug, patting the seat closest to him.

“I’m afraid, Sir, that I do not know the rules, I’m sure it would be better if I just watched, or went back to the kitchens, there is much washing up to be done, after all.”

“Oh surely that can wait until the morning, can’t it Thranduil?” asked Smaug,

“It certainly can, Mr Smaug. Now girl, don’t keep the man waiting, sit. Legolas, deal her a hand, we’ll start a new game, how’s that?”

Sigrid took the offered seat and was promptly joined by Tauriel. All thoughout the game, Smaug’s sweaty palm would brush against her own hand, and his foot would find itself brushing up and down her leg. Every time she winced but kept on playing. She could only hope this night would end soon and she’d be able to retire for the evening.

When the clock struck eleven, Legolas gave out a yawn.

“I say, it is getting rather late. I think we aught to retire soon, don’t you think so, father?”

“Nonsense. The night is still young and there is yet wine in the bottle. I thought it was the old folk who were meant to retire at eleven, and the young who stayed up all night?”

“Come now father.” Said Tauriel, placing a hand on his “Don’t be so hard on Legolas, he’s right. I’m sure we’d all like to go to bed.”

“Your children are correct.” Announced Smaug “It really is time I was leaving. I’ll be sure to pass on your information to my client, I’m sure he’d be very interested in what you have to offer.”

Thranduil stood up, a triumph look on his face, no matter how much they’d spent that evening of wining Mr Smaug, Sigrid suspected that Thranduil would make it back in one order alone. “Then I must bid you goodnight then sir” he gave a deep bow to Smaug “Sigird, show the gentlemen out.”

“Of course, Stepfather” said Sigird, leaping to her feet and marching purposefully towards the door. She spied Smaug’s lusty gaze from the corner of her eye, and even though the dress had several layers of fabric to it, she still felt the immediate need to cover herself up.

Smaug finally rose to his feet though and sauntered towards her and out into the main corridor.

“Thank you for such a fine evening. You make an excellent hostess, my lady.” He beant down to whisper in her ear and Sigrid stood stock still “A gift, for your birthday” he said, his hot breath in her ear making her wince as he forced a small wrapped box into her hands, closing her fist around it with damp palms.

Sigrid gulped and examined the object now clenched in her fist. It was a small jewlwery box, and Sigrid feared what might be inside.

“Open it.” He hissed and Sigrid did as she was told, fearing the worst. When she discovered it to contain a broach and not, as she feared, a ring, she let out a sigh of relief

“You like it then?” he asked, grinning a black toothed smile “I thought you might.”

The broach was, indeed, beautiful. It was a large fire opal set inside a gold casing with delicate flowers around the edges. Still, Sigrid, eyed the peace warily and held it as one would a scorpion.

“Thank you, sir, it’s very handsome indeed.”

“Why don’t you put it on for me?” said Smaug, eyeing her carefully. “It goes just here.” He said, placing a pointed nail in between her breasts.

Sigrid’s skin crawled and she wanted nothing more than to slap this man in the face for his such frank violations, but she did as she was told regardless, attaching the ornate stone to the centre of the dress.

“Beautiful.” He smirked gazing at her chest. Sigrid carefully crossed her arms and gave a cough, drawing his attention back to her face.

“Should ever you need me, my house is only a ten minutes ride from here. It would not take me long at all to get to you.” It felt more like a threat than an offer of assistance. “These people don’t know how to treat you like the Lady I know you are, Lady Sigrid of Dale, but I certainly do.”

Just as he had at the start of the evening, he grabbed a hold of her hand and placed a slobbery open mouthed kiss to it, sucking on the skin. Sigrid wanted to pull away and slap him around the face, but stood her ground none the less, her other hand clenched into a tight white-knuckled fist.

“Good evening My Lady. I hope to see you soon.” He grinned and left through the door. Sigrid watched as she made sure he got onto his horse and was down the lane before she closed the door and heaved a heavy sigh.

“You performed splendidly Sigrid.” Smiled her Stepfather from the doorway to the lounge. “Well done indeed. As a reward you can keep that broach, and you can wait until morning to wash those pans.”

“Thank you Stepfather.” She said weakly and made to go towards her rooms to change out of this dammed dress.

“Ah-ah. Not so fast.” Said Thranduil, stepping towards her  “You’ve yet to lay out our clothes for tomorrow or turn down our beds or fetch hot water should we wish to wash. See to that and then you may sleep. Hurry now.” He said clapping his hands “We’ve not got all night.”

“Yes Stepfather.” Said Sigrid, quietly and went to do as she was told.

All she longed for was a long, deep bath as a way of getting rid of the stench of Smaug that lay upon her skin, but clearly that would have to wait. She tried not to compare him to the man from the forest earlier that day. How could she have received praise from a true gentleman like Fee as well as a complete cad and a creep like Smaug in the same day?

She’d promised herself she’d not think on Fee anymore though, and she wanted nothing more than to forget everything that Smaug had said or done that evening. She heaved a sigh, and tried to concentrate on her work instead, but she did not find it all that effective.

Chapter Text

Over the next few days, try as he might, Prince Fíli found that he could not forget about his beautiful huntress. He’d find himself day dreaming more than normal during council meetings and had been hit over the head with Balin’s account book on several occasions, much to Kíli’s amusement.

“I just can’t stop thinking about her!” hissed Fíli and his brother sat in his chambers over lunch. “Every time a bird sings I think of what she might be doing, or if the bird is responding to her call. I’ve never seen someone sing the way she can.” He gave a dreamy sigh before glaring at a giggling Kíli.

“Oh shut up.” He threw a bread roll at his brother “Like you’re on to talk Mr ‘Eyes like a shimmering glass mirror’”

“I didn’t say anything.” Said his brother, primly “And hey, Friga’s eyes were like shimmering glass mirror, I just didn’t realise that’s because she spent all day looking in one.”

“You would have been a perfect match then.”

“Yes, we would have been.” He sighed wistfully “A shame she had to leave so soon…”

“Kee, she was only here with her father for a one week trade agreement! You barely knew her! And you were fourteen.” Laughed his brother “There is no way Uncle would have consented to the match. She wasn’t even a noble.”

“Yes, well, neither is your Miss Sigrid, but it’s not stopping you from thinking about her every ten minutes.”

Fíli groaned and lay his head in his hands “What am I going to do Kee, I have to see her again!”

“Do you know where she lives?”

Fíli shook his head forlornly

“Do you know anyone who might know where she lives?”

Fíli shook his head once more, sinking lower onto the table.

“Well, then I can think of only one solution to your problem.”

“Give up and get on with my life as best I can?”

“Nope. Better, or worse depending on your stance on the situation, you need a raven.”

“Bâhazunsh fa Karak?” asked Fíli curiously, pulling himself back up to a seated position.

“Karak.” Said his little brother, grinning “It’s easy! You go up to the tower where they’re kept, give it a message to deliver and it’ll deliver it! Ravens don’t need to know someone’s address, just a rough idea of where they might be and what they look like!”

“That’s, that’s not a bad idea Kee.” Nodded his brother. Kíli puffed his chest up in pride

“It’s been known to happen.”

“So have fire moons. But you’re missing one thing, Nadadith,”

“And what’s that?”

“Mum’s in charge of the ravens and their training, there’s no way we’ll be able to get anything past her. It’s foolish to try.”

His brother sighed “Did you never listen to Uncle Frerin’s stories? When Durin Siblings work together, we can do anything!”

Fíli laughed and walked over to embrace his brother in a hug “I’m glad to hear that I’m not the only one to remember our Uncle’s legacy.” He ruffled his sibling’s hair “So what’s your big plan than Kee?”

Kíli’s eye lit up as he explained his plan to him as Fíli nodded slowly, stroking his beard in what he thought to be a very Frerin-like way. 

The plan went as such, firstly, Kíli would distract their mother by asking her out for a walk away from the castle. Originally, Kíli had planned on releasing one of the dogs into her room to rip it apart, until Fíli pointed out that their mother would murder the pair of them, sole heirs or not, when she inevitably found out their involvement. So they agreed that Kíli would take her for a walk, an act she’d find highly suspicious, but wouldn’t get either of them in immediate trouble.

Whilst Dís was out walking with Kíli, Fíli would pay off the guards of the Raven’s tower to let him in to speak to one of them. He’d then tell the raven all he knew of Sigrid and send them off to go and deliver his message to her and bring back her reply.

Technically, they weren’t doing anything wrong, as there were no rules limiting their accesses to the Karâk. They were just normally meant to ask permission from their mother first. But, Kíli reasoned, it was easier to ask forgiveness than it was for permission.

So the next day, the boys sprung their plan into action. Dís was pleasantly surprised to find her youngest son outside her chambers with a picnic basket filled with fresh cakes and a flask of good ale, so gladly agreed to accompany him on a walk through the meadow whilst Fíli and his Uncle spent their day dealing with business of the nation.

As soon as Dís had left the castle, Fíli ran to the tower to pick out the right raven for the job. He’d already been thinking about it, and decided upon Rek. He knew he needed a raven whom would be up for the slight deception needed to go behind their mother’s back for this, and thus his first thought was The Twins.

Rip and Rek were young, only about seven years old, and had only been in regular use for the last two years. However, it had been Fíli who’d helped train the pair of them, and they were fiercely loyal to him. Well. Loyal to the treats he’d always bring the spoiled birds, but really, nothing was for free these days.

Whilst Rip was by far the leader out of the pair of them, it was Rek he was after. Fíli trusted her far more than her brother when it came to delivering important messages. Rip had a tendency to get distracted, and his shining white feather marked him out against the rest of the birds. However, Rek would perform her duty and fly back to Fíli as quickly as she could so as to get as much food out of him as possible.

Fíli gently called Rek down to him, and the raven perched on his forearm whilst he told her all about Sigrid and where she might find her. He impressed upon the raven the importance of keeping the message a secret.

“Get back to me as soon as you’re able! Every five minute you’re gone, I’ll give your brother some of your reward feed. Understand?”

The bird gave a sharp “Harrk!” and snapped her beak in frustration

“Yes I know that’s not fair, but I also know that it works to motivate you. Now scoot along!” he took her to the window and watched her fly out of it, Fíli’s message tied tightly to her leg.

He watched as she disappear beyond the trees and sighed. Looking up at the clock tower just visible from the window, he let out a groan. He only had three minutes left to make it to the opposite side of the castle or else risk insulting the visiting nobles from The Orocarni, who Thorin had invited for reasons best known to him and Balin.

Fíli took a deep breath and sprinted out of the tower, running at full pace and hoping that they the Stiffbeard and Stonefoot clans had the same disregard for time keeping as the other clans did! As he slalomed past the various obstacles in his way, he wondered if Rek had managed to find Sigrid yet.

*

Rek soared through the skies, listening out for the Songbird Human named Sigrid. Fíli had described her as “beautiful as the morning sun and as fierce as a summer rainstorm” which wasn’t very helpful at all really. The fool hadn’t even provided her with anything to sniff her out with, not a hair from her head or a scrap of cloth from her jacket. Still, he’d promised her three buckets of fresh insects from the garden and a month’s worth of his leftovers should she get back to him with the answer before sundown. So she had motivation to say the least.

When she’d set out on her journey, the sun had been far in the east but it was now approaching the centre of the sky, and still she’d caught no sight of the prince’s mysterious songbird. She had flown through the trees of the forest he’d said he’d found her in and all along the neighbouring fields, but she’d found nothing that matched his description. Reluctantly, Rek realised that she only had one option left and that was to stop and ask for directions from the local songbirds.

Whilst it was true that carrion and songbirds spoke different calls in general, there was a common song that all birds knew, from the great eagles of the northern mountains to the humble sparrows of the shire hedges. Spotting a pair of Song Thrushes, Rek called out to them

“You! You! Help!” she cawed as she landed next to them on the tree branch.

“What do you want crow?” asked the first thrush, puffing up their feathers indignantly

“If you’re looking for our eggs you know it’s the completely wrong time of year anyway.”

“And we wouldn’t let you at them even if it was!”

“Not here for your eggs! Here for information.” Snapped Rek, already annoyed at how Songbirds didn’t share Carrion’s understanding of the importance for keeping sentences brief and full of facts rather than filled with the fancy words of fiction.

“What sort of information are you looking for then, Crow?”

“Sigrid. Human. Where is she?”

“Sigird?” chirped the first

“You’re looking for the Girion Girl?” said the second, her head cocked to one side

“Yes! The Girion Girl! Where is she?” said Rek, flapping her wings excitedly

“Why do you want her Crow?” said the first “She’s one of our people, not yours. You have the Durins, or are they not good enough for you anymore, and you want to steal away our protectors too!”

“Nothing like that.” Squawked Rek “The prince wants her. Don’t know why. Think he’s in love.”

And there was the magic word. Whilst her kind were mostly monogamous, songbirds seemed to have an ‘anyone, anytime, anywhere’ approach to romance, and as such were very excited by all kinds of silly love stories. It’s why they always appeared in the humans’ tales! They just loved to gossip.

“Love! A Durin in love with a Girion!” The first bird jumped up and down on the branch whilst the second gave out a series of bright happy notes that echoed throughout the forest.

“The Durin must be the boy from her song! The boy who is making her so happy and so miserable at the same time! To think that we’d be alive to see the matching of a Durin and a Girion!”

“Sorry. We were not aware that you were here on such a dutiful mission!” apologised the first “I’m Chirrup and this is my darling mate, Warble.”

“Rek.” Replied the raven, resisting the urge to just fly away. Why must all Songbirds have such stupid sounding names? “Where Sigrid? Where Girion Girl?”

“Sigrid lives in the farmhouse beyond the hills and past the old horse lane. Their land starts where the rivers cross and the grasses turn from green to gold.”

“Thank You.” Said Rek spreading her wings to fly off in the direction instructed

“She won’t be there now!” Called Chirrup “Don’t be foolish! She’ll be in the town with the other humans buying the food she can’t make herself.”

Rek fixed Chirrup with a beady eye “Why didn’t you say?”

“I just did.” Puffed up the thrush “Not my fault you were asking all the wrong questions earlier.

Rek considered just stabbing at the birds tiny head until it told her exactly what she needed to know, but The Lady Dís had berated her on her ‘violent’ behaviour before, and she didn’t think The Prince would be too happy with her either.

“Where is town then?”

“The Town on the Lake is not 80 wing beats from here. It should not take you long to find her.” Chirped Warble

“You’ll know her when you see her.” Whistled Chirrup merrily

Rek only glared at the pair some more before bowing her head in a brief nod of thanks and taking off into the sky once more; muttering in Carrion about the stupidity of songbirds.  

Rek travelled over yet more fields until she found the human town. There were many pretty young blonde maids, but when she finally saw Sigrid, Rek finally understood what all the fuss was about. The girl was beautiful it was true, but she still had dirt under her fingers and calluses on her hands. Her beauty came not in the pretty colours of her clothes or hair, but in the softness of her movements and the kindness of her smiles. The girl had the fierceness of the wolf in her eyes though, and Rek could understand why the Prince was so eager to see her again. She flew down and perched on the girl’s shoulder, giving out a caw as a hello.

*

Sigrid had been busy trying to haggle on the price of flour with Mrs Kenney when the raven landed on her shoulder. She let out a surprised cry as its claws dug into her shoulder and Sigrid made to flap the creature away with her free hand, but it refused to budge.

“Well hello to you too then.” She sighed, letting the raven stay put for now “Is there anything I can get for you, Mr Raven?” she asked it. She didn’t speak Carrion, only those of Durin’s Folk could, but she hoped her meaning would get across well enough.

The bird shuffled off her shoulder and onto her outstretched forearm. It held out its leg for her to see before giving a triumphant squawk. Sigrid reached out with her free hand and untied the little message attached. It was a tightly round scroll, with a piece of bright red ribbon keeping it in place.

Mrs Kenney was eyeing her curiously now, but Sigrid ignored her, turning her body away from the stall so as to find some privacy in the reading of the letter. With a jolt, she realised that it must be from Fee! The stationary was very fine indeed, and only someone who worked in the royal household would have access to a raven.

Maybe it was one of the kings’ own ravens! She mused, as she admired the bird’s glossy feathers. She didn’t really like the king or his ways all that much, thinking that a king should not live in luxury whilst their people starved, but still. It wasn’t everyday you got a gift from a royal mystical messenger bird. 

Sigrid quickly unrolled the scroll and stared at the message beneath

My Dear Miss None of Your Business

It’s been two days now and try as I might, I can’t seem to forget about you.

Would you please agree to meet me outside the south entrance for Lórien Wood on Saturday?

I’ll be able to get the afternoon off work then, and I can spend the day with you in the woods and we won’t have to worry about anyone getting arrested for anything, though I suggest you don’t bring your bow this time. If you need protecting, I assure you, I am more than up to the task.

If you’re able to come, please send a reply with Rek, she’ll know where to find me.

Your Very Own

Prince Charming. 

Sigrid let out a jubilant laugh at the letter “You’ll be the one needing protecting if you keep up that talk Prince Charming.” She smiled, but still felt her heart soar at the prospect of seeing him again, that he still thought about her even though they’d only really spoken for but a few hours.

The Raven, Rek he’d said her name was, pecked at her hair and gave a squawk.

“Right, yes, a reply. You’re quite right.” Sigrid rummaged around in her satchel and found a pencil and a scrap bit of paper she’d been using as her shopping list for the day. She ripped off the bottom of it and scrawled a quick note. Rek held out her leg for Sigrid to tie it to and took to the skies once more.

“Who was the letter from then, Miss Sigrid, if you don’t mind me asking?” asked Mrs Kenney “It’s not often you see Royal Ravens down in the market town, is all.”

“No, I suppose you don’t.” mused Sigrid “And yes, I do mind. Good afternoon Mrs Kenney, I think you’ve got quite enough gossip out of me for one day.”

“Oh go on Lass! Is it a gentlemen friend? Have you finally got yourself a beau?” the woman called after her

“Goodbye Mrs Kenney.” Laughed Sigrid as she adjusted the basket up her arm and gave a merry wave. Despite the heaviness of the basket, Sigrid found the weight not so difficult to bare as it might have been. Indeed, she felt as though she could float through the sky as easily as his raven did. She watched as Rek disappeared up towards the castle, her grin never leaving her face all the walk home.  

*

The Nobles from Orocarni were starting to give Fíli a real headache. They’d been there for three hours and still couldn’t agree where they would sit for the meetings or what should be on the agenda and in what order. Apparently, all the paperwork had been sent out months ago, but they kept wanting to add things to it and take it away, so in the end Balin had thought it best to leave it until now.

He could see the advisor was regretting his decision.

“My Lords!” Bellowed the King “We are better than this. You will sit down where you choose and whoever gets to that space first, that becomes their seat for the rest of the talks. If you are to behave like squabbling children, then I shall treat you like one!”

“You ain’t my king!” retorted Lord Brynjar “I ain’t gotta do what yous tell me to do.”

“Aye!” agreed Lady Kina “I didn’t vote for ya to be in charge of this meeting, so who’s to say I’ve gotta listen to ya?”

“Mahal give me strength.” Muttered Fíli, looking up at the round window from which the bright afternoon sunshine shone through. He suddenly spotted a shape at the window, he peered up closer and noticed that it was Rek, her frantic tapping going unheard through the nobles ruckus.

Slowly, Fíli slid out of his chair and tip-toed up to the window to try and jimmy it open to let the raven in. The window was a tad higher up than he’d originally thought, and found that he had to stand on an ancient looking table in order to reach the latch.

After a bit of tugging the window slid open and Rek hopped through and landed on his shoulder, giving Fíli’s ear an affectionate nibble.

“Did you find her girl?” he whispered excitedly.

The Raven gave a squawked in response, and tapped at the message tied to her leg.

“Yes! Oh fantastic!” cried Fíli reaching to untie the letter

“What’s in the letter, boy?” asked a deep voice.

Fíli looked down and saw that the assembled lords were looking up at him curiously.

“Aye, what have you been saying to that bird?”

Of course thought Fíli Only Uncle Thorin can speak Carrion. As far as the lords were concerned, he’d just been making hacking noises at a raven whilst he stood on an old writing desk. Fíli’s gaze flitted to his uncle, who was looking disapprovingly at him, eyes narrowed and his face more hawk like than ever.

Thinking on his feet, Fíli cleared his throat and pocketed the letter. “The Kark comes from Aulë himself. She’s telling me how you’re all behaving like spoilt brats who deserve to have your hair shaved off if you continue to act in this manner. You’re all meant to be Lords and Ladies, representing your clans and your king, yet you can’t even agree on where to sit or what to talk about!” Fíli gave an incredulous look

“If this is the best the great clans can assemble, then our people are in greater danger than ever I thought! Now sit down you great stinking ninnies and start making some positive changes, or may Aulë smite you with his mighty hammer this very day!”

Rek gave out a mighty squawk just then and flew towards the assembled nobles and their men, doing a lap of the room before disappearing out the window again. They all looked rather petrified, naturally superstitious of the birds said to be Mahal’s own messengers. The fact that Durin’s Folk could communicate with them had always set them above the other families, and clearly Fíli’s display of this skill had reminded them of the innate power they possessed.

“Apologies, your highness, your majesty” bowed Lady Kina, “it was disrespectful of me to talk in such a manner.”

“Aye, me too.” Said Lord Brynjar “I shouldn’t have spoken out of turn. I hope yous forgive me, Sir.”

Fíli gave a regal nod as he stepped down from the table as gracefully as he could.

“You are forgiven, Lord Brynjar. It has no doubt been a tiresome journey from the mountains. Perhaps” he suggested “once everyone is seated, Balin might fetch us some tea? And we can talk about these matters in a civilised manner befitting the reputation of our clans?”

The nobles nodded in agreement and sat down in the nearest seat to them with minimal fussing 

“My nephew is right. It is time we behaved like true sons and daughters of the mountains. Balin, please, fetch a maid, ask her to bring us tea, or perhaps something stronger.”

“An excellent idea, Sir.” Said Balin jumping to his feet, giving Fíli’s arm a quick squeeze on the way out

“Good job Laddie.” He whispered and Fíli felt relief flood through him as Thorin too gave him an approving nod.

He reclaimed his seat next to his uncle and began to fein interest in the importance of wool from the wild sheep on top of the mountain in comparison to those farmed in the valleys. His mind drifted to the letter in his pocket. He slipped it out, and tried to control the grin as it spread across his face.

My Dearest Prince Charming

I suspect, if your bird is any indication, you’ll be the one I’ll be needing protecting from! Probably best if I at least bring a knife with me when I meet you on Saturday at noon.

Looking forward to seeing you again

Sigrid.

He suppressed a squeak of excitement, and spent the rest of the meeting with a broad grin on his face, causing his uncle to grow more and more suspicious of his behaviour.

At six o’clock it was deemed that they weren’t getting anywhere, and they’d be better of just retiring to their chambers to prepare for dinner. When Thorin left the table though, he did not head to his chamber but rather straight towards Dís.

What Fíli had said to his raven had distressed him more than he’d let on, and nobody knew the ravens like his sister. He knocked smartly on her door and waited to be allowed entry.

Everywhere else, he’d just knock and enter regardless, he was the king, after all, and this was his home! However, he knew better than to anger his sister, having been bested by her in hundreds of fights and challenges over the years.

“Just getting changed!” She called out, “Come in and wait if you want Thorin.”

Thorin opened the door and let himself in, perching precariously on one of the midnight blue rocking chairs by the fire, his back to the screen she was getting changed behind. Since the death of their father and the turmoil caused by the war that followed, the three siblings had grown very close, however, he was still a man of propriety, and she was still his little baby sister.

“Here, help me with this.” She said coming out from behind the screen, and turning to show him the stays of her dress that kept it together.

“You’re dressing to impress tonight then.” Said Thorin proudly, tying the dress as neatly as he could. It used to be Frerin she’d get to help her, after she’d dismissed all her ladies in waiting so as they could do more important work, but since his death she’d handed the task over to a reluctant Thorin. Still, he’d grown used to the concept now and enjoyed the time it gave him to spend alone with his remaining sibling.

“Well, I know the importance of making a good impression on these folk. The boys might not be aware of how all we know hangs on a knife edge, but I certainly do.”

“You’ve been spying on Balin and mine’s meetings, haven’t you?” She turned to him and gave him a pitying stare “Of course you have, Namad I should have known better than to question you. You who have always known more about the comings and goings of this kingdom than anyone I have ever met.”

“Precisely. The Durin Woman may be few, but we are mighty.” She winked at him “Now, am I to assume you’re here to ask me about Fíli’s raven?”

Thorin gave a low chuckle and nodded “I found his words… worrying.”

“What did he say?”

“He’d sent the raven to find a woman, and then seemed excited to find out that she’d been found. He had a letter, though he didn’t allow me to see it, and I thought it would only hinder our talks more if I forced him to read it aloud.”

Dís hummed thoughtfully “Hmmm, yes I think it might have. Well, that sounds similar to what Huginn told me happened in the tower whilst Fíli was explaining what he wanted from Rek. It also all explains what Kíli was trying to distract me from by spending the day with me away from the castle.”

“Why did you go with him if you knew it would be a distraction?”

“And miss the chance to spend some time with my youngest boy? Not a chance. They know their mother too well to do anything that I’d disapprove of too much.”

“Yet it may still be something that I would disapprove of.” He said, raising a bushy eyebrow “I trust you Dís, but if this is to damage the talks or the safety of this kingdom in anyway, you have a duty to tell me.”

“Oh it’s nothing Thorin I’m sure. No doubt a little lighthearted fun and all shall be well again. Best not to ask too many questions and let things run their course.”

“What kind of fun?” Frowned the king

“The kind you’ve never allowed yourself to have.” She smiled fondly, patting his arm “Best not to think on it too much, or you’ll give yourself a headache. Come now, Nadad, let us go find you your best tunic to wear for tonight's dinner. We can’t have those Stiffbeard and Stonefoot people thinking we’re nothing but common ruffians with no sense of fashion.”

She marched him out the room, distracting him with political gossip her ravens had bought back for her from across the kingdom. She knew exactly what Fíli was up to, of course. Rip and Rek might not have been willing to tell her anything, but Huginn and Munnin were always sharp of wit and quiet of wing, nothing happened in the kingdom that they did not know about, and they were always willing to tell all their secrets to their Mistress in exchange for some fresh meat from the kitchens.

She thought back to the time when she was Fíli’s age, and the Kingdom was as secure as it was now. She’d had plenty of fun away from the rules and regulations of the castle, it was only fair she allow him the same freedoms. For now, at least. She prayed to Mahal that all of this ended soon though, she didn’t want to see any young hearts unnecessarily broken.

Chapter Text

“Bakn galikh ‘Amad!” said Fíli brightly, as he trotted into her chambers for their usual morning breakfast. Dís was big believer in the whole family eating together, and an even bigger believer in breakfast. Kíli, however, was a big believer in sleeping in on a Saturday, and usually Fíli agreed with him so Dís was surprised to see him so functional before midday.

“Good Morning to you too Fíli.” She smiled, pouring him a cup of fresh tea “To what do I owe the pleasure your company this morning?”

“Oh nothing in particular. It was just such a nice day today, I thought it would be a waste to spend most of it in bed.” He grinned and went about buttering himself some toast.

“What are your plans for today then?”

“Nothing much. Thought I’d enjoy the weather and go for a walk or something.”

“Haven’t you got work to do following the meetings with the nobles from The Orocarni?”

Fíli gave a shrug “I’m sure Uncle and Balin can cope without me.”

“This doesn’t have anything to do with the message Rek gave you the other day, does it?” sais Dís casually

“What? What message? That message? No. Not at all.” said Fíli, a bit too quickly.

Dís smirked and took a sip of her tea “Of course not my little lion. Of course not. Foolish of me to think otherwise. What was it about then?”

Fíli spluttered, “It was just a message from a friend, is all. Nothing more. Just a friend.”

“Do I know this friend?”

“I don’t know. Probably not.”

“What’s this friends’ name then?”

“Oh you wouldn’t know them, it doesn’t matter.” He laughed quickly changing the subject “What are your plans for today then?”

“Oh I’ve got work to do regarding some disputes in Ered Luin. Nothing major, but your poor mother is going to have to work her whole Saturday away. I was hoping our future Lord of the Blue Mountains would be able to help me, but he does not seem to have arisen as well as you.”

“Well, that’s Kíli for you.” He laughed

“Hmmmm.” Mused his mother “I’ll send Gróa to wake him up with a cold bucket once I’m finished here.”

“That’s a little cruel, don’t you think?”

“He has to learn. Just because he’s only second in line to the throne, doesn’t mean he’s not got duties to fulfil.”

“Don’t be too harsh on him Mum, he’s still only a kid really.”

“High time he started to behave like an adult. Tough love will do him some good, and it’ll be most amusing for me.” She winked

“Who are you plotting against now, Sister?” asked her brother, striding into the room and taking his seat next to her

“Your nephew. We’re going to dump a bucket of cold water on him, care to come and watch?”

“Alas no, we shall be busy today sorting out the fallout from The Orocani meetings. Good morning, Fíli,” his uncle nodded towards him “I’m glad to see you awake this morning. I was worried I’d have to send Balin to carry you down to the office to do the work.”

“Ahhhh,” hissed Fíli “Sorry Uncle, I’m a bit busy today, could you maybe cope without me?”

“Without you?” said his uncle in a shocked voice “Fíli, you are my heir, the Crowned Prince of Erebor, you need to be taking on more responsibility now that you’re nearly of age!”

“Yes, and I am, I’m just busy today, is all. It’s a Saturday anyway, who works on Saturdays?”

“Most people in the Kingdom.” Said his Uncle, flatly “Which includes royalty.”

“Well, I’ll help you on Sunday, okay? I promise. I just can’t get out of this, okay?” The grandfather clock in the hall began to strike eleven and Fíli quickly clambered to his feet. “Got to go now Uncle, Mum see you both later.”

He pressed a kiss to his mother’s cheek as he sped out the door.

“When will you be back?” asked his Uncle

“Don’t know!” he cried back “Depends on how long I’m needed.”

“You’re needed here!” Thorin shouted, rising out of his chair to chase after him

"Oh sit back down Thorin.” Sighed Dís, placing a hand on his arm and pushing him back into his seat “Let the lad be young and free for a little while, he did a good job during those meetings. He deserves a treat.”

“Kings don’t get ‘treats’. Kings do what is best for their people no matter prior social engagements.”

“Which explains why you’re always so chipper and well adjusted, Nadad.” Beamed his Sister

“There are things Fíli and I need to… discuss. Issues that arose whilst I was in private discussion with Lord Dufin and Lady Unna.” He gave Dís a meaningful look, but she ignored it.

“I’m sure whatever it is, it can wait until tomorrow. Now, excuse me, I need to go and watch as my son has a bucket of ice cold water poured over his head.”

Thorin watched her walk out the door and sighed. He couldn’t decide what would be harder, telling Fíli what they’d spoken about, or telling Dís.

*

Usually, Saturdays were an easy day for Sigrid. The family were not early risers, save perhaps for Tauriel, and would easily lay in bed for most of the morning. Breakfast was ready for 11 O’Clock and lunch would be served at 3 O’Clock, followed by dinner at 8 O’Clock. This meant that she had the morning all to herself to do with as she wished. However, today she made it her mission to finish all the days tasks well before breakfast so as she could make her way to see Fee as soon as possible.

Her big plan was scuppered though, when Thranduil announced that he’d spilt wine down his favourite silk shirt the other night, and that Sigrid needed to get the stain out for that very evening as well as stitch up the holes in his breeches from where he’d taken a drunken stumble the night before.

Of course, when Legolas heard about this, he handed her all the tunics and shirts that he’d ripped or torn and soon it looked as though her previous free day would be filled with sewing and stitching.

She’d stared at the large pile of clothing the pair of them had dumped into her arms and had a moment of quiet despair. She’d been so excited to see Fee again! It was all she could think about, filling up her evening song and every moment of her workday was motivated by the thought of being free to roam the woods with him again.

In situations like this, one had two options. One could despair about their life, or one could try to make the best of it and find a solution. Sigrid decided that in this scenario, being proactive would help more. So she packed up the clothes into a basket, added her sewing supplies to the top, and ran out the door as fast as she could before they noticed her missing, heading straight to the clearing where she’d said she’d meet Fee.

When she got there, huffing and puffing as she tried to catch her breath, Fee was already there. He came running up towards her, a massive grin spread across his face.

“You came!” he said his eyes sparkling “I was worried something had happened to you, but here you are!”

“Yes, sorry, I got given more work to do than I thought.” She said lifting the wicker basket in her arms “You don’t mind if we just find a nice place to sit and I work on this, do you?” she asked, biting her lip “I know it’s not terribly polite of me or anything but, it was either bring it with me or not come at all…”

“Your company is gift enough.” said Fee, giving a deep bow “Shall we at least find somewhere inside the woods to sit down though? There’s a stream that runs through it, where it glows silver in the light and you can feel the magic emanating from within. There’s plenty of places to sit and enjoy the scenery whilst we work.”

“Whilst we work?” said Sigrid, raising an eyebrow at him and smirking

“Yes, My Lady, we. You do not think I would let you suffer alone in all this, do you? I am not as incapable as you may think.”He said, reaching out to carry the basket

“Most men I know can barely thread a needle, let alone repair fine clothing. So excuse me if I’m a bit dubious about the matter.” She replied, handing him the basket none the less

“Oh Sigrid,” he smiled “I can assure you that I am not like my peers in any respect.” He hitched the basket securely into the crook of his elbow, and offered his other arm to her, which she took with a giggle.

The pair began to walk through the forest, exchanging news of what had happened over the last couple of days.

“So when I left the house this morning,” Fee concluded “I could hear the screams of my brother and my mum laughing in the background!”

“That’s cruel!” Said Sigrid, laughing all the same “Your poor brother!”

“Well, he had it coming. He’s been neglecting his work for too long.”

“What is it the pair of you do in the castle anyway? What are you apprenticed as?”

“Errrrm, it’ sort of being a consultant to the King, offering advise and the like. It mainly involves doing a lot of writing and doing exactly as Master Balin tells me to do. It’s not exactly a lot of fun…”

“It sounds important though!” Chimed in Sigrid “Have you met the King yet? I imagine you spend most of your time in the offices, but you must have met him?”

“Once or twice…” said Fee carefully, not quite meeting her gaze

“Is he really as awful as people say?”

“What do people say about him?” Asked Fee, frowning

“That he’s a grumpy old sod, who spends most of his time yelling orders and who is far too stubborn to do anything that will actually benefit the kingdom.”

“Is that what people really think?” he said quietly

“Of course!” Said Sigrid, “I mean, he sits up there on his throne of stone, but we never see him amongst the people. His family and him feast all day on the best the kingdoms have to offer whilst people down here like us are forced to work morning, noon and night just to be able to afford to feed their families. Meanwhile, he taxes everything we make just to hoard the gold for himself.”

“It’s not like that!” Snapped Fee “There’s a lot that needs doing in the Kingdom! That’s where the gold is going, towards reinforcing buildings, fortifying our boundaries, paying our soldiers! There’s woodland that needs maintaining, and trade that must be funded. It’s not our fault, that is to say,” he added quickly “the fault of the King’s Household, if the business men don’t share their wealth evenly or the Lords don’t maintain their farms as well as they should.”

“The King is in charge of the Kingdom. Anything that happens within in it is his responsibility.” She said, with an air of finality about it.

“Izul kithu barafzu tashmari ra dûmzu fuluz muneb samragi,” murmured Fee

“What does that mean?” asked Sigrid, frowning, uncertain if she’d been insulted or not. “I don’t speak the language of the Clans.”

“It’s Khuzdul, well, that’s what we call it anyway. It translates as ‘Only when your family is guarded and your halls are prosperous should you feast.’ It was something my father used to say. Fee gave out a sigh “It means that in theory you’re right, but things are never so simple. I’m sure things will improve in time though…”

“Perhaps once the King is dead and his nephews take over.” Sigrid mused

“Don’t say things like that!” Said Fee, dropping her hand to stare at her, a look of shock and horror on his face “Don’t even joke about that!”

“Fee, I’m sorry, I just mean, well someday he has to die and The Prince will take over, it’s just how things work.” She moved to take his hand again but he snapped it away before she could

“You can’t just wish people’s family dead! It’s not right.”

“I’m sorry Fee, I wasn’t thinking, I shouldn’t have suggested it. What we’ve been through, our own families, we shouldn't wish that on others. I’m sorry. It was a slip of the tongue, forgive me.”

“Forgiven.” Muttered Fee, continuing their walk but not taking her arm again

Well you’ve messed it up now Sigrid! She thought, bitterly, jogging slightly to catch up. Change the subject, change the subject, change the subject!

“So how much further until we reach this river?”

“We should be there soon.”

“I haven’t been this far into the forest before.” Sigrid smiled, gazing up at the canopy of trees, the leaves shining bright green, the sunshine passing through the gaps and dappling the light upon the ground. The air smelt fresh and fragrant with the earthy smells of the trees and the flowers. In the distance she could hear the birds calling to one another about the food they’d found and any fresh gossip that had arisen.

“You can understand them, can’t you?” Grinned Fee, looking at her with amazement and wonder, as though she were made of magic herself.

“Well, yes, a bit.” Said Sigrid carefully, not wanting to lie but equally not feeling all that comfortable in admitting that she was technically nobility- even if she’d never really had two gold coins to rub together.

“Where did you learn?” He asked excitedly

“My father taught me. Just a little though, not a lot.”

“Could you perhaps teach me?”

“Teach you?” She said, “You want to learn Birdsong?”

“Yes! Definitely!”

Sigrid mused it over, some of the basic calls weren’t that complicated, and if it took his mind off of her previous misdemeanour, that what harm could it do?

“Get me to this river of yours, and I’ll teach you then.” She smiled.

“We better hurry then!” He smiled, grabbing her hand and pulling her along, Sigrid laughing as he did so.

Fee was right, it didn’t take them long to reach the river, and it was as beautiful as he had described. You could almost taste the magic of the place, the way the river sparkled like diamonds and was so clear that from a distance, it looked like liquid silver. The clearing was banked by high walls of earth, making the place feel safe and secure from harm, yet the gap in the trees above allowed it to be filled with warm light. There were logs and boulders placed around the edge of the river, making perfect make shift benches.

“It’s beautiful!” whispered Sigrid, gently letting go of Fee’s hand to wonder further into the glen “How do you know about it?” She asked turning round to stare at him with glittering eyes.

“I used to come into these woods a lot after my uncle died.” Said Fee, sitting down on one of the logs, patting the spot next to him for Sigrid to join him “You’ll think me ridiculous but…”

“But what?” She asked, sitting next to him

“I had a sort of vision when I was eleven…” He looked at her sceptically but she didn’t seem to be judging him, just looking intently and awaiting the rest of the story. “My uncle, my eldest uncle, had told me, told me something important about my future. About the expectations I was expected to live under now that his brother was dead.

“I ran away. I didn’t want anything to do with it so I just turned and fled all the way to The King’s Forest. It was where I used to go with my uncle, it was the only place that seemed to still contain his spirit, if that doesn’t sound too weird?”

“Not in the slightest.” Smiled Sigrid, reaching out to hold his hand and gave it a tight squeeze.

“Anyway, like I said, he told me that, now his brother was dead, there were things that I had to take responsibility for. Things I now had to do. A person I was now expected to become.” He threw a glance at Sigrid, but she seemed to just be nodding along, not questioning what he was expected to do, which he was intensely grateful for.

“I mean, I was eleven right? And my favourite uncle had just died two years after my Dad and just, well I didn’t want to have to deal with that fall out as well as everything else I was going through, so I ran away to The King’s Forrest to cry.” He looked off into the distance, recalling the memory, he hadn’t even told Kíli this much, let alone anyone else

“I got lost, and found myself under a large silver elm tree, and then I heard this voice, I thought it was out loud at first, but it turned out to be in my head. This woman appeared, beautiful as the dawn and as mysterious as the sea, Baggûna, I call her now. She asked me what was wrong, so I told her. She knew of my uncle and my family. She told me that if I did a task for her, if I made things right between her and my remaining uncle, then she’d look out for me in the future.

“So I did. I confronted him about everything, talked to him about his brother and things got better. One night not long after, I woke from a dream of this place, and I somehow knew where it was and how to find it. So the next time I needed to get away from everything, I snuck out of the house and went in search of this place.” He gestured around “I knew I’d always be safe here, and it’s become a bit of a refuge for me. I haven’t even told Kee about it.”

“But you’ve shown me?” Said Sigrid, quietly

“Yeah. I’ve shown you.” Said Fee warmly “I think you could do with a refuge too.”

They sat there looking at one another. Sigrid’s eyes kept dipping to Fee’s lips, and she found herself edging tentatively closer just as he did. They were only about an inch apart when suddenly a shout came out

“Halt! Who goes there?”

The two jumped apart and started to search around for the voice. Up on the mound of earth, there stood a tall, slender figure with an arrow pointed directly at them.

The pair instinctively drew the other closer and tried to pull the other behind them for their protection.

“I repeat. Who are you, etllëar.”

“I’m Sigrid of, of Dale and this is my companion, Fee of?”

“Erebor.” He said quickly

“Yes, we know who the Nauco is.” Smirked the Eldar before them, still not putting down their weapon. “But what is he doing in the Lórien with a simple Firya girl? In our most sacred of places, and on the day of Lord Celeborn’s only granddaughter’s betrothal?”

“We mean no harm.” Said Fee raising his hands in the air and indicating that Sigrid should do the same “I didn’t know this space was sacred to the Eldar. We’ll go now.”

“Too late, Nauco.” Hissed the archer “We don’t want you informing anyone where to find us. Take them away!” they shouted. Fíli and Sigrid spun around and came face to face with more guards, armed with fine willow bows and swords at their sides. Both Fíli and Sigrid knew better than to challenge anyone so heavily armed, and did as they were told, Sigrid looking behind her forlornly at the basket containing her day’s work.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid girl! She berated herself Should never have come in the first place. Stupid, reckless, impossible.

Fee must have known what she was thinking as he turned his head back to stare at her and offer her a silent look of support, his hand reaching out to grab hers as best as he could in their position.

Without even noticing the way they’d come, the pair soon found themselves entering through a great gate, forged between the combined branches of two silver birch trees that curved down to create a frame for it. The place that lay before them was unlike anything Sigrid has ever seen.

Instead of conventional houses, there seemed to be a great number of trees lining the path, but when she looked up, she noticed how platforms had been built amongst them, containing several rooms and dorms. Right in the centred of the space was a mighty oak tree, rising high above everything else she was surprised she’d not seen it upon entering the wood itself. A spiral staircase lead up and around it to the various platforms attached. In the distance, Sigrid thought she could hear the beautiful ethereal music she knew the Eldar were famous for. Thranduil’s family were descended from their race, and occasionally she’d hear him forlornly singing their songs as he lay awake at night.

Sigrid and Fíli were taken up into the tree and were marched into a great hall, where they were ordered to stay put until their guard returned. There was nothing in the room save for two grand thrones at the end. Whilst the emptiness of the clearing had made her feel safe and secure, this vast space made her feel more afraid than she’d ever felt before.

“I’m so sorry.” Whispered Fee “I didn’t realise it was off limits to outsiders! I’ve come here so many times before, and this has never happened.” He said holding her hands in his “I promise, no matter what happens, I’ll keep you safe? They won’t harm you.” He gently cupped her face and she returned the gesture

“It’s not your fault.” She smiled “I trust you Fee. I don’t know why, you’ve caused me nothing but trouble, but I trust you all the same. I won’t let anyone hurt you either.” She pressed her forehead gently against his, unaware of the cultural significance this held amongst the Clansmen, and unaware still that her feelings was true to it.

Fee leaned his head forward in response, and didn't tell her what it meant, what she was saying to him through this simple gesture, but knowing that somehow; deep down, he felt it too.

“Well this is a surprising sight.” Said a voice from behind them. The pair broke apart yet again, but still held onto each other’s hand as they turned to face the owner of the voice.

Before them stood a tall man, with long silver-blonde hair which matched the colour of his robes. He held himself with a noble standing, and viewed the pair of them with a slightly supercilious look, a small smile etched across his face.

“My wife was correct to tell me to send men to check Meldornan for outsiders, though I was not expecting to find a Clansman boy, and a girl of the Commonfolk.”

Welcome, Crowned Prince Fíli, son of Lord Víli of The Blue Mountains. It is good to see you once more. He whispered in Fíli’s mind.

Fíli’s grip on Sigrid’s hand tightened slightly. He was speaking into his mind, just as the Eldar Woman from his vision had done! Perhaps this was a common trait amongst or the Eldar? He’d never heard of it before, but it would not surprise him if it were true considering they were imbued with the deep magic of the forests. Panic began to rise throughout Fíli, what if he told Sigrid the truth? That he was a royal prince and heir to the throne at that. What normal person would want to marry into the strict rules and guidelines that came with nobility? Especially when all she seemed to want from life was freedom away from servitude!

Welcome, Lady Sigrid, daughter of Lord Bard. I am Lord Celeborn of Lórien. It has been a long time since we’ve had an heir of Girion grace our presence- though we have been listening to your song for some years now.

Sigrid jumped slightly at the voice in her head, and felt Fíli’s hand tighten around hers instinctively. How had he known? Whilst she wasn’t exactly secretive with her skills, most people didn’t know that you had to be a decedent of King Girion to posses the gift. What if he told Fee the truth about her ancestry? She wasn’t sure how he’d react to finding out she was technically nobility. What normal person would want to marry into failed nobility? Especially when they spent all their time around the true nobles of court.

“My soldiers tell me you were trespassing in our land. Were it up to me, then I would let you go- however my advisors are adamant that you be punished for your behaviour.”

“What behaviour? We didn’t do anything wrong!” Cried Sigrid, frantically “We didn’t know it was sacred, it was just a clearing- a pleasant place to be! If we had known-“

“But you did know. Only those who know how to find Meldornan, may find it.”

Sigrid threw Fee a frantic look, it was true that he had been shown it in a vision, but would that be good enough for them.

“I saw it in a dream, when I was a child. I’ve been there before and” began Fee

“You’ve been to Meldornan before?” Asked the Eldar, his voice rising by only a fraction, but still making Sigrid flinched none the less. She didn’t like it when people shouted. It didn’t tend to bode well for her.

“Yes but” began Fee

“There are no excuses, Casar. You entered into our sacred space, without gift for the spirits that lived there, and worse of all bought along your soiled clothing to clean in the river.”

“What soiled clothing?” Asked Fee frantically

Sigrid let out a groan “The repairs. My stepfamily’s clothes. They must have thought they were there for cleaning! Sir,” she said turning back to the man before them “they were mine, let Fee go. They were not his clothing, he has done nothing wrong, let him go and you can do what you want with me.”

“Sigrid, don’t.” Hissed Fee “Let me take the fall, you need to get back to your family.”

“My family can do without me, yours cannot!” She replied tersely

The Eldar surveyed them with a look of curiosity “What you two decide does not matter. Was it not you, Fee, who carried the clothes into Lórien?”

“Yes. It was.” Said Fíli firmly, surprised and relieved that Lord Celeborn was using his nickname, as apposed to his real name. If he was to be held prisoner for the rest of his days, he at least wanted Sigrid to not think of him as a liar.

But he couldn’t help but think about how the truth would have to come out eventually, and how it would be better done so by his lips,

“Then it is decided.” Lord Celeborn clapped his hands and the guards returned into the room, looking stony faced and more menacing than ever despite their stillness.

“Take away the boy but leave the girl. She may go free.”

“No wait!” Cried Sigrid, thinking on her feet “If you take him then how will I make it safely back home? He was my guard. Even if I make it safely out of the woods, there could still be bandits on the road to my house.”

“Go on.” Mused Lord Celeborn

“And the clothes you speak of, they belong to my family. What will they say if I reveal that they were left here in the woods? I’ll need some new ones in order to make up for it.”

“What is it you ask of us then?”

“A weapon to defend myself, a bow and arrow preferably, and new clothes from your own stores. They are finer than the originals I am sure and will make up for how late you have made me.”

Lord Celebron surveyed her curiously with one raised eyebrow. “I cannot allow you to carry or wield a weapon in my forest unguarded. But you have my word, that you may take with you whatever you can carry.”

“Anything I can carry, you promise?” She tried to control her breathing, staying as calm as she could

“On my honour.” He bowed his head

Sigrid looked around her for anything that might aid her in her rescue of Fee, when a thought occurred to her. She marched straight up to Fee, and lifted him up onto her shoulder, as though he were a sack of potatoes. He let out an indignant squeak about being manhandled in such a way, but soon she could feel his stifled laughter against her back.

She had not walked ten paces when a chuckle rose up amongst the Eldar, and Lord Celeborn cried after her.

“You have both passed the test. Now come back here and we shall see to you both. Your clothing is safe and being taken care of, do not fear. Come.” He beckoned, “There is someone who wishes to meet you.”

Nervously, the pair of them made their way out of the hall and followed Celeborn and his guards out down the spiral staircase that wrapped around the tree before heading back out into the open. The music Sigrid had heard earlier was still in full swing, and as they approached, Sigrid noticed how everyone looked far more jovial and carefree than the Eldar she’d met so far in her life. A man and a woman stood in the middle of a pack of dancers, laughing as they raced up and down the lines. They both wore matching silver circlets upon their heads, and looked at each other as though they were the moon and the stars and the sun all rolled into one.

Sigrid thought of how the guards had spoken of Lord Celeborn’s granddaughter’s betrothal and wondered if this could be her. She definitely had a certain something about her eyes that was similar to his. Sigrid surveyed the pair of lovers and smiled. It had been a very long time since anyone had asked her to dance, not since she were sixteen and attending her very first ball, under the strict supervision of her father, of course.

“Lord Elrond.” Called Celeborn merrily as he beckoned over a tall man with a serious demeanour who had been surveying the dancers with a certain sadness behind his eyes. “Gi suilon, I have bought them to see you. This is Sigrid of Dale and Fee of Erebor.” He shared a gentle smile with the Eldar.

“Mae g’ovannen. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance at long last. Much has been said of your meeting with us today.”

“You knew we would be here?” Asked Fee, frowning

“It was said that you would come here on this day, though the date was not clear, nor was it clear that it would be you two in particular, nor that you would indeed come at all. But the Lady of the Woods is only seldom wrong.” He shared a look with Celeborn as though some great joke had just been told.

“Okay…” Said Fee, carefully, “so, what do you want with us then? Or are we free to go if we so choose?”

“Nobody will keep you here against your will, Fee of Erebor. However, it would be a shame to see the festivities for my daughter and her betrothed go to waste. We so seldom have young folk for the dance.” He sighed “They seem to age quicker than the mayflies of spring.”

“That’s you daughter then?” Asked Sigrid, eyes flicking between the two men “And your granddaughter? But you can’t be more than 5 years apart?”

The men smiled down at her as one would a child pointing out the difference between tadpoles and frogs for the first time.

“The Eldar age at a different rate to your kind, Sigrid of Dale. Though I would not worry about it too much my child. A lifetime is still a lifetime no matter how long.” Said Lord Elrond, kindly

“Yet the length of a lifetime does determine how much one can see or do, and allows for a greater impact upon this earth. A short lifetime would benefit some, whilst to others it is a tragedy beyond measure.” She rebutted, thinking of her little sister, so young and full of energy, her potential yet to be unlocked beyond the point of chasing butterflies.

“Some lifetimes are, indeed, unforgivably short.” Nodded Lord Elrond “But let us not think upon such things on a day that is meant to be full of happiness and joy.” He gestured towards the revellers who were gathering for their next dance. “Please, enjoy yourselves.”

“Come on Sigrid.” Smiled Fee, grabbing her hand “Come dance with me?”

“I don’t know the steps!” She said

“Oh what does that matter?” Laughed Fee “We’ll just follow everyone else’s lead!”

Sigrid laughed as he pulled her into the rows of dancers, and a fast tune on a fiddle began to play, joined in by a drum and a penny whistle. It reminded her of the kind of music she used to hear Da humming as he merrily spun her mother around the kitchen.

“Do not worry.” Said a fair-haired woman standing next to Sigrid “I’m not familiar with any of these dances either, but you pick them up soon enough.”

The dancers on the right bowed to their partners on the left, who curtsied in return, Sigrid meeting Fee’s eyes and gigging at how silly she felt. Then, the dancers put one hand forward to grasp their partners, and swap places, before turning to the partner on their left and doing the same- Sigrid and Fee a beat out of time to everyone else. Soon they began to bob and weave about before they found themselves in the same places as before, red faced from all the movement. However, the dance was not over, as now the couple at the top joined hands and cantered down the line as everyone clapped and stamped their feet, laughing merrily as they did so and cheering most loudly when the couple of honour did so. Fee and Sigrid were the last to go, rosy cheeked and smiling broadly, everyone clapping and laughing as they came to the end. They cheered the musicians who quickly began their next tune and the dancers set up to go again. 

“See. Not so difficult.” Smiled the same woman as before. “I’m Éowyn by the way.”

“Sigrid.”

“Lovely to meet you Sigrid. This one is a lot faster, just so you know. Might want to prepare yourself. It’s one of the Sylvan Songs.”

And indeed, the next one was faster and much more complicated! They split into fours and created stars where the partners split and moved across with many twists and turns. Sigrid and Fee kept turning the wrong way and soon they became a tangled mess of arms and legs, laughing merrily with everyone else at the silliness of it all. As the couples moved along to find others to partner with for the dance, Sigrid and Fee were proud of their improvement, although they still ended up facing the wrong way on multiple occasions.

Their last partners were the happy couple themselves, Arwen and Aragorn.

“I think that’s quite enough dancing for me today.” puffed Fee “The dancing I was taught was a little less enthusiastic.”

“Agreed.” Panted Sigrid

“We’re usually a reserved race.” Smiled Arwen “But when it comes to dancing we do like to break with tradition.”

“You’re certainly telling me.” Grinned her betrothed “When your father said it would be a traditional Eldar ceremony, this wasn’t quite what I expected!”

“It’s nice to know that there’s still surprises in store for us.” Said Arwen, pecking Aragorn on the cheek.

“So how long have you two known each other then?” Asked Sigrid, joining the pair as they went in search of refreshments

“Twenty years I think?”

“Twenty four” corrected Aragorn

Sigrid gaped at them “And you’ve only just decided to get married?”

“Well, it wasn’t that simple you see.” Said Aragorn taking a seat on one of the finely carved wooden benches “You see, Arwen is of the Eldar, as you may have guessed, whilst I am of the Commonfolk, same as you.”

“No you are not.” Said Arwen indignantly “you are of the Dúnedain! Do not forsake your heritage, Astalder.”

“Only on my father’s side, Melamin.” Smiled Aragorn weakly

“I thought the Dúnedain were almost all died out?” asked Fee, curiously “My Uncle told me your kind were all but slaughtered during The Great Battle, that your home land was now run by the Commonfolk of Gondor?”

“That is true, Master Fee, but I do not begrudge them in the slightest. I have lived away from Gondor for a long time. It is no more my homeland than it is yours.”

“Nonsense!” Cried a loud voice, barrelling over to them. “Gondor is a home to all who look for one. I have told you before friend, were you to return we would welcome you with open arms, you and your future wife!”

“Thank you, Boromir.” Replied Aragorn, clapping him on the shoulder “But I shall trust you to rule it better than I. So long as you have your brother beside you to keep you from being so brash.” He teased

“Aye, but my brother is too busy making eyes at The Lady of Rohan. I think we may loose Faramir soon enough.” He winked, gesturing to where Éowyn and her dance partner were talking, although, it appeared as though she were doing most of talking, as he just stood there with a look of utter amazement and adoration on his face, too nervous to say a word.

“They’ll be engaged by the end of the night and he’ll be off to join the Riders of Rohan.” Laughed his brother.

“But if I’m correct in understanding, if you’re of noble blood and Arwen is of noble blood- then what did your parents object to? The Eldar do sometimes fall in love with other races, surely?”

“Yes, that is true, indeed, my paternal grandfather was of the Commonfolk, and indeed my uncle married one of them as well, however, there were… consequences, related to that. My father does not wish to see me suffer as they did. However, he understands that this is my choice. He can either support my decision to be with the person I love, or awaken one day to find that I have runaway to live the life of a Ranger of the North.” She smiled serenely, squeezing Aragorn’s arm.

“Yes, and in him doing so, has caused me to give up my job just to move back to the forest with you.” He laughed “Though I can think of far worse places to live out my days. And far worse company to spend it with.” He smiled kissing on the cheek

“So, you’d be willing to give up everything you have, your title, your home, your family, if it meant you could stay with Aragorn?” Asked Fíli

“Yes. It would have hurt, but less so than being apart from my heart. It is also easier to persuade family to come to your way of thinking, it is less easier than stopping loving someone.”

Fíli mulled this over. Would he be willing to do that? If it meant getting a chance at true love? He glanced at Sigrid and felt his heart skip a beat at how beautiful she looked just sitting there. Perhaps he would, if he were in the same position as Aragorn, but Gondor already had a steward in place and heirs to take over from him. It was true that Kíli could become king in his stead, but the title of Lord of the Blue Mountains would be challenge enough for him, he didn’t want to put the pressure of running the whole kingdom on his shoulders. He was not Arwen. He did not have the same choices as she did.

Tonight, however, tonight he could simply allow himself to be Fee of Erebor, a simple Clansman and apprentice. He didn’t have to worry about royal protocols or anything like that, and could simply enjoy the pleasure of good company and fine food.

“I have to say.” Said Boromir, eyeing Fee curiously, “It’s not often you see Clansman come down from the mountains, even in Erebor, you stick to your own kind often enough. What brings you here today?”

“Oh. Well. It was just a matter of chance, really. I was showing Sigrid some of the sites of the forest when we were captured and somehow ended up with an invite to the party.”

“Showing her the sights were you?” Said Boromir with a twinkle in his eye

Fee and Sigrid blushed and the pair began to stammer their indignation at the assumption.

“Boromir!” Scolded Aragorn, “You go too far sometimes.”

“Apologies.” Said Boromir, his smirk not leaving his face “It was rude of me to say anything that would suggest that your intentions were not virtuous. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think it only fair that I rescue my brother before he forgets how to talk entirely.”

They watched as Boromir trotted off to talk to his brother and Éowyn, Éowyn throwing her head back and laughing whole heartedly at something he’d said upon arrival that made Faramir finally say more than ten words for the first time in half an hour, all of them loud and angry.

“Has he been at the ale?” Asked Fee, raising an eyebrow

“No, well, yes he has, but he’s usually like that anyway.” Laughed Aragorn

“Boromir has always been loud where his brother was quiet, and boisterous when he was studious. They make a good duo.” He smiled

“Though Éowyn and Faramir would be a smart match.” Said Arwen, thoughtfully

“I suppose so.”

“And he would make a fine Rider of Rhoan, he is an excellent horsemen.”

“Arwen” warned her betrothed, “Arwen don’t get any ideas now…”

“I might just go and see if Éowyn wants to talk about dresses for the wedding.” She said merrily, going after her friend.

Aragorn put his face in his hands and groaned “Excuse me, I think I need to rescue my friends. It was a pleasure to meet you both.” He said bowing “You are more than welcome to visit our woods anytime you like.”

“Thank You, Aragorn.” Smiled Sigrid and Fíli muttered similarly, wondering if Aragorn and the others would treat him the same, if they knew that he were Ereborian Royalty and not just a simple Clansman.

They weren’t exactly on bad terms with the other races, other than the Eldar- though that was mainly one sided on Thorin’s behalf.

“What are you thinking?” Asked Sigrid

“Nothing. Nothing in particular. Just how beautiful you look tonight.”

“Yes well, you’re looking particularly handsome yourself, but I think there’s more to what you’re thinking about then simple flattery!”

“So you think I’m handsome then?” He asked, eyes a twinkle

“No more changing the subject!” Laughed Sigrid “Tell me, it’s clearly something that’s been bothering you.”

Fíli gave a sigh “I was just wondering what it would be like if more Clansman were here, you know?”

“Are you feeling too, outnumbered? Do you want to leave?” Asked Sigrid carefully

“What? No! Nothing like that! I can’t think of a place I’d rather be than right here with you.” He said, squeezing her hand “I just mean, if The King and the other nobles were here. If, I don’t know” he gave out a fake laugh “If The Prince was here or whatever, do you think they’d behave in the same manner?”

Sigrid thought carefully about this. “Well, nobody really hears from the princes, nor sees them for that matter. They don’t exactly do a lot about the kingdom, from what I hear they mainly sit in the castle doing paperwork and host parties for the nobles. You’d know more about them than I would!”

“Yes, I suppose you’d be right there” He gave a nervous laugh “but do you think that that would change things? Do you think The Prince should, I don’t know, go to more of these places and see more of these people? Properly.”

“Why are you interested in all of this all of a sudden” she frowned “Is this about earlier, Fee, I’m sorry for what I said! It was hurtful of me to say so, I was just angry and bitter I guess I’m-“

“No. It’s okay. You apologised so let’s just, you know, move on from that, but. I mean, is it wrong for us, the Clansman” he added hastily “to only deal with our own kind? Considering the kingdom contains so many different people from different races?”

“The Clansman never used to be so secretive.” Said Sigrid “My Da told me stories from his grandfather, about the great parties that used to take place in Dale between the races, how even the Eldar would venture from the woods and join in. The town market place was filled with tradesmen from all over, and there was peace and joy throughout the lands.” She giggled “Or at least that’s how Da told it.”

“My uncle used to tell me stories about those times.” He smiled to himself, remembering nights when Frenrin would insist on putting his nephews to bed, and would sit with them snuggled up to him and regale them with tales from his youth and from the family’s history.

“You talk about your uncle all the time. You must miss him greatly.”

“I do. Everyday. I wish I could go back home and tell him about all of this. About you, but I can’t. It’s okay though, I’ve gotten used to it over time.”

“What was his name?”

Fíli hesitated, not wanting to risk exposing himself, but not having it in his heart to lie about his uncle, not to someone who had so quickly come to mean so much to him so soon.

“Frenrin.” He smiled “Though we used to call him Fren Fren when we were little.” He laughed “When I was older, I’d call him that anytime I was in trouble and it always worked at getting me out of it! Although, more often than not, it was the both of us in trouble with Mum or, or whoever.” He finished slightly awkwardly.

“I always wonder what he’d think of me now. Would he think I was doing the wrong thing or the right thing with my life? Would he approve of what I’ve been doing as the castle or, or just tell me to get out whilst I can? To follow my heart and not my head…” He said, risking a glance at Sigrid.

“Well, I’m sure Frenrin would be very proud and happy at the man you’ve become.” She said, holding his hand, “I mean, I’ve only known you two days and I already know that, though you’re sometimes arrogant, pompous and quite utterly ridiculous at times,”

“No, really, don’t hold back.” Laughed Fee

“I know you to be a good person in heart and soul. You’re caring, you’re not afraid to show your emotions and surprisingly humble.”

“I thought you just said I was arrogant?”

“Amazingly, you somehow achieve both.” She winked bumping against his side.

“So what would you do, if you were, you know, Princess of Erebor?”

She thought carefully for a moment. “Try and talk to the people more. Find out what they’re problems are, help out where I’m actually needed and not spend all my time dealing with paperwork I don’t even understand. I wouldn’t celebrate unless they could as well.” She looked down at her hands “At least, I think that’s what my Da would have done.”

They sat in a solemn silence for a moment, both feeling the desire to reveal all their secrets, admit to their true family heritage and what that meant for them, but both of them were too frightened of what that might mean. Fee most of all.

“Come you two!” Cried Boromir stomping over to them, slopping some ale out of his cup as he did so “Oops!” He said, looking down at his newly wet tunic “But you two!” He pointed at Fee and Sigrid “Come! This is not a time for such dower and serious expressions! Come! Sing, dance, be merry!”

“Yes!” Said Éowyn excitedly “Sing us a song! I hear the Clansman have the best songs!” She clung to Faramir for support, having clearly been drinking more of the Dorwinion Wine than was perhaps advisable.

“Oh no no,” said Fee, “holding up his hands “I don’t know any. Nothing for such happy times at least.”

“Oh you must know some!”

“Yes Ai’ atar! Come, sing us a song!” Cried one of the assembled guests until there began a chant of:

“Sing, Sing, Sing, Sing!”

“Well,” said Fee, scratching the back of his head, “I do know one…” a cheer erupted from the crowd “but it’s from Dale originally, so it’s not technically a Clansman song, but it is still kind of from Erebor-“

“Just sing already!” shouted Boromir

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Whispered Sigrid, holding his hand.

“No. I want to.” Smiled Fee, clearing his throat but still not letting go of her hand.

“Can any-body,” he coughed, clearing his throat once more “find me-ee, some-body to-oo, love.” The last note was a deep rumble from the back of his throat that made Sigrid feel weak at the knees (and other places besides). The crowd held its breath for a moment, captured by his voice already.

“Each morning I get up a die a little, can barely stand on my feet, take a look in the mirror and cry, Lord what you’re doing to me” he was picking up the tempo now, spurred on by his audiences’ enthusiastic reaction,

“I have spent all my years in believing you, but I just can’t get no relief, Lord” he shouted the word out into the crowd “Somebody” he clapped and they joined him “somebody. Can any-bo-dy find me” he stamped his foot with each syllable  “somebody to love?” he threw Sigrid a wink and watched as her face turned redder than it already was

Sigrid knew this song, knew every word by every beat. She hadn’t placed it at first, but soon it came back to her. It was the song her parents would sing the day on their anniversary. They’d met at a dance hosted by a mutual friend, who’d insisted they should perform together and ordered that the Lord of Dale should sing a song from his own people. It was the only one they both knew. Her mother had told her how she’d known by the last verse, that she was going to spend the rest of her life with her singing partner.

“I work hard, every day of my life” sang Sigrid surprising not only Fee, but also herself  “I work till I ache my bones” she walked further towards him “At the end”

“At the end of the day”

“I take home my hard earned pay-all-on-my-own”

Fee laughed at how she ran the words together and beamed at her from across the make shift stage they’d found themselves on

‘But eee-verybody wants to put me down” Sigrid started to give it just as much gusto as he was, enjoying the sensation of being freeto sing as loudly and as confidently as she liked and not risk angering her stepfamily. “They say I’m going cray-zy! I got a lot of water in my brain, I’ve got nobody left to believe.”

“Yeah yeah yeah yeah!” chorused the crowd, clearly more familiar with the song than neither Fee nor Sigrid had expected

“Oh Lord somebody” sang Sigrid

“Somebody” replied Fee

“Can any-body find me, somebody to love?” they sang together, identical grins plastered across their faces.

They sang the last verse together, passionate with the words fuelled by the encouragements of the crowd and how it made them feel as though their insides were made of air that would lift them into the sky and let them fly through the air as the eagles did.

“I just gotta get out of this prison cell; someday I’m gonna be free, Lord”

“Find them somebody to love!” chanted the crowd, Boromir and Éowyn most loudly and enthusiastically, as Sigrid and Fee sung out notes that harmonised beautifully and filled the other with a confidence neither had ever known.

The chanting grew louder and louder as Fee and Sigrid found themselves getting closer together, hands reaching for one another and entwining themselves, lightning sparkling between their touch.

“Can anybody find me,” they sung “somebody to, love” they held onto the note for as long as they could, afraid of what would happen once the magic of the song was broken, but eventually it had to end, and the pair stood, staring into each other’s eyes as the audience from the party they’d indivertibly crashed sprung into raucous applause and chanting.

“Kiss the girl!” roared Boromir

“Yes, kiss him Sigrid!” replied Éowyn, laughing

“Only if he wants me to.” Whispered Sigrid, blushing as bright as a tomato and quiet enough so as only Fee could hear her amongst the crowd.

“Of course he does.” He replied with a small smile, cupping her chin in his hand, and going up on tiptoe slightly to press a kiss to her lips.

It was as though fireworks were being let off behind their eyes and the deep warmth that comes from winter fireplaces was flowing through their veins, their hearts pounding in their chests.

The kiss was somewhat chaste, brief and closed mouthed with just the smallest amount of pressure. Yet it left them both breathless and wide eyed, as they stood there, both looking as though they’d been hit over the head with something large and very blunt, like a carriage horse, or a small house perhaps.

They gulped back large amounts of air.

“Wow.” Said Sigrid panting

“Yeah.” Replied Fee, “I know?”

“Mind if I kiss you again?” asked Sigrid

“Be my guest.” Said Fee, and the pair sprung towards one another, their kiss going from chaste to passionate, not caring how unattractive it must look to the onlookers as they revelled in the feeling of giddy joy that erupted within them every time they touched, letting out small breathy moans that neither of them could control.

None of the guests minded though, as many were preoccupied in their own displays of affection, including Éowyn who’d been tapped on the shoulder by a stuttering Faramir, and asked if it was alright if he could have the honour of maybe kissing The Lady of Rohan. He hadn’t even finished his sentence properly before Éowyn had replied with a loud and enthusiastic yes and all but launched herself at the poor boy, who was proving himself to be a lot more skilled with his mouth than his ability to talk might suggest.

“Do you really think this appropriate behaviour, My lady?” asked Lord Elrond from the back as he examined the gathering of young lovers before him “I mean, it is all rather public, don’t you think?”

“It is an betrothal party, my Lord Elrond, love is what it is meant to be about.”

“I do not remember my own being like this.” Smiled her Son in Law, gesturing at the crowd of young people falling in love for the first time.

“No. No it was not. But as they say, tis a powerful that which we just witnessed. It is hard not to be moved by such a sight. If you’ll excuse me, Lord Elrond, I must go in search of my own husband.”

“Of course, my Lady.” He replied with a small smile and a bow. He stood as he ever did, ramrod straight with his hands behind his back, however his smile had grown dreamy as he began to hum the Sindarin tune Celebrían and he had sung at their own betrothal.  

*

Without either of them realising, dusk had fallen and they’d spent nearly the whole day together when they had originally agreed on an hour or so. “I should really go…” said Sigrid, biting her lip

“So should I.” said Fee, though neither of them moved from their space on the bench “I’ll get into so much trouble if I’m not back soon.”

“Not as much as I’ll be in” laughed Sigrid, nervously.

“Best get you back then.” He smiled sadly “I would hate it if I was the cause of any of your pain.”

“I could never regret this night even if I tried.” Smiled Sigrid, leaning in for another kiss, which Fíli gladly accepted.

“Sigrid, there’s something I should probably tell you” began Fee

“What is it?”

Fíli gazed at her, he really should tell her. It wasn’t fair on her to keep it a secret for any longer. Yet he simply couldn’t bring himself to do so. He didn’t want to give up on Fee just yet. She’d been so strong willed against the royal family, and even if she’d said nothing against him personally, he highly doubted she’d be willing to accept the possibility of entering into the nobility herself.

“You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met.” He said instead, opting for another truth that needed saying. “And I will thank Mahal everyday for allowing me to spend so much time with you.”

 “I feel the same way about you.” She replied with a soft smile “I feel like I’ve finally met someone I can just be myself around, someone who will let me just be me.” Even as she said it though, she was struck by a pang of guilt in her stomach.

She knew that whatever she felt for Fee was stronger than anything she’d felt before now. Being with him felt as though the pain she’d known at the loss of her family and everything that had happened since was somehow so much more bearable. She felt as free as the birds as she sat with him.

How could she keep her heritage a secret from him? That she was not a simple commoner like him, but rather a Lady of Dale, even with her ancestral lands passed onto Masterson, it was still a part of who she was, something she could not deny. Yet somehow she could not bare the thought of telling him the truth, for fear that he’d start to treat her differently.

So instead she chose to stay quiet, and ignore the guilt in favour of holding his hand and the feeling of warmth and comfort that it filled her with.

“Come, My Lady” said Fee standing up “I shall accompany you on your return home. There may still be ruffians in the area.” He winked

“Why thank you My Lord,” she said accepting the hand he offered to help her to her feet “I assure you, if any ruffians do appear, I shall make sure they do you no harm.”

They bid their goodbyes to the happy couple, and thanked Lord Elrond and Lord Celeborn for their kindness. They decided that it was better just to wave at Bormir as he began to sing one of the rousing song of Gondor (loudly, and very out of tune) and equally decided upon the same for Éowyn and Faramir, who seemed to have greater and more important things to discuss with one another.

As they passed through the great gate that lead to and from the city, the very guards who had stolen them away earlier bowed to them, a knowing smile on their faces. Was all of that really just part of some weird test?

Goodbye, Sigrid of Dale and Fee of Erebor. Said a calm pleasant female voice inside their heads remember that linage and culture is no reason for two peoples to be partner.

Separately to each of them though, she said Lies are no foundation for a relationship, even if they do make forming one simpler.

Both Fíli and Sigrid pretended like nothing else had been spoken to them. 

They walked along in a comfortable silence for a while, following the path Lord Elrond had told them to take until they came back to Meldornan.

“Here we are then. Told you I’d get us here safe and sound.” Announced Fee, proudly

Sigrid rolled her eyes. “Actually, I think it was Lord Elrond and Lord Celeborn who got us here safely.”

“Yes, but I helped.” Winked Fee, “Come My Lady, our journey is not yet over. Plus you promised me you’d teach me how to sing to the birds as you do.”

Sigrid smiled “Another time perhaps?” she suggested

“Another time? Such a promising offer, very well. You can teach me next Saturday perhaps? Same time, same place?”

“I don’t see why not.” Smirked Sigrid “After all, it hasn’t been a completely awful time. The kidnapping wasn’t so much fun though, can we leave out the kidnapping?”

“To be fair, it was less ‘kidnapping’ and more ‘being arrested’. I’ll try not to get you arrested next time.”

“Is that a promise?”

“I’m afraid I don’t make promises that I might not be able to keep. Although, I do promise that if anything were to happen to you, I would do my utmost to rescue you!”

“I seem to remember that it was I who did most of the rescuing today!” laughed Sigrid

“Lies. Each and every one of them!” said Fee in mock outrage “I would have gotten us free, eventually.”

“But would it have gotten us invited to such a good party? I doubt it.” Laughed Sigrid

They continued on in such a manner, arguing over who was responsible for what, until they reached the middle of the field that marked where they would have to go their separate ways.

“I’m just down there, by the end of the river.” Said Sigrid, indicating the small house in the distance.

“I’m up there.” Said Fee, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the castle. Again, it wasn’t a lie, most of the staff had quarters in and around the castle, it was just that most of them didn’t have royal quarters with large beds and soft goose down pillows.

“I can walk you to your door if you wish?” asked Fee, not wanting to break apart just yet.

“No.” sighed Sigrid, “It’s probably for the best, my stepfather doesn’t know I was out today after all. He won’t be pleased if he catches you.”

“Right. Okay.” Said Fee, knowing better than to press the topic. He wanted to take her away from them, save her from the life she seemed to be living, yet he knew that life was not that simple for the everyday person. As much as he wanted to help her, the only way to do so was to reveal his true identity, and that could have even worse consequences.

Instead, Fíli chose to just be there as much as he could, for as long as he could. “I’ll send Rek to find you again then.” He smiled “That way you can tell me if anything happens and you need my help.”

“That’s very sweet Fee, but you really don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be fine. I’m a big girl.” She laughed

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want to be there for you, Sigrid.”

“I know.” She heaved a huge breath and looked over at her house. “Well, see you soon, hopefully.” She bent down and stole one final kiss before heading off with a sad wave.

Fíli watched her as she disappeared from his view and let out a sigh. What he wouldn’t give to go after her and stay with her for all of time. To hold her and never let her go. The dream was, of course, impossible. But so were many dreams, and sometimes the dreams that you wish, really do come true.

*

Sigrid heaved a huge sigh as she stepped back into the small farmhouse. She was very late, but with a stroke of luck they might not have noticed and she could just pretend like she over slept and-

“So tell me Stepdaughter, where have you been this time? And what have you done with our clothes?”

Chapter Text

Sigrid felt a cold horror pour over her at Thranduil’s words. He never came into the kitchen, not if he could help it, yet here he was sitting at the table looking as calm as could be but with a burning, ice cold stare.

“Your, your clothes, Stepfather?” she began, trying to keep her tone casual, “I was just looking into repairing them, they required materials, I-”

“Don't lie to me child. You’re not very good at it. It’s almost insulting.”

“I’m not lying Stepfather. I really did take them into town…”

“MORE LIES!” Bellowed Thranduil, rising from his chair and storming towards her in two quick paces “I know you’ve been gone for seven hours! It does not take seven hours to pick up supplies in town. I also know that you replenished your supplies only last week.”

“The repairs, they were too difficult-”

“No they were not. You’ve repaired worse before. I’ve got the evidence right here!” he said, plucking at his white silk shirt which he’d split red wine on and ripped at the sleeve, the stain had been completely removed and the stitching was almost invisible. She’d been proud of her work at the time, but now she sensed that she’d done too good a job for her own good.

Sigrid just stood there unable to say anything. Her mind was blank. She’d left the clothes in Lórien! How could she have been so stupid?

“Where have you been? Why were you gone for so long, forcing us to make our own lunch like we were your own personal slaves? This is the second time in as many days and I will not stand for such insubordination!”

This was a bit rich coming from Thranduil, and Sigrid was about to open her mouth to say something, but caught herself just in time. It was not wise to provoke Thranduil when he was in a rage. She’d learnt that the hard way early on. Instead, she just stood there in silence, standing her ground as best she could.

“Father!” Tauriel’s voice called out as she hurried down the stairs to the kitchen, feet thundering down the stairs.

“What is it Girl?” he called out, not taking his eyes off of Sigrid.

“A woman just came and delivered this for us!” she said, finally coming into view and Sigrid noticed that she was carrying the same basket and Sigrid had put the clothes into earlier. Tauriel placed the basket on the table and beckoned Thranduil over.

Thranduil frowned and came over to inspect them.

“See Father, they’re all present and correct! You can’t even see the repairs, it’s like they were never there!”

“See,” said Sigrid feeling her heartbeat slow down to a normal “I tried to tell you, I didn’t have the skill needed, so I gave them to a friend to repair.”

“Oh, and how much do you expect us to pay this ‘friend’.” Asked Thranduil, coldly

“She said not to worry about it, said it was a favour to the household. See Father, they’ve even added finer stitching to it to make it appeal more to this years fashion!” Said Tauriel, holding up one of her dresses admiringly

“It still does not explain why you have been gone for so long, and why you missed serving us lunch.”

“I was just, I was just taking a walk in the meadow and I must have lost track of the time…” It wasn’t completely a lie

“Did I give you permission to leave the house?” he said, haughtily

“I didn’t think I needed it.” Said Sigrid, as defiantly as she dared

“You always need my permission, Sigrid. I allow you to stay in this house out of the goodness of my heart, out of respect to your father. Do not test my patience Child. Especially now you’re old enough to wed.” he added, casually.

Sigrid clenched her fists by her side, trying to stay as calm as she could. “Yes Stepfather. You have been incredibly kind to me all these years.”

“Well it’s nice to see that you’re grateful for it all.” He said dryly “You will be punished for your behaviour, Sigrid. I expect all the floors to be washed, the oven to be cleaned, the rugs beaten and the spiders are back. I expect you to take care of them properly this time. Oh,” he added as an after thought “If ever you leave this house without my permission again, even just to fetch a pale of water, you will live to regret it for the rest of your miserable life. Come, Tauriel, leave Sigrid to prepare dinner now.” He exited the room, his coat billowing out behind him. Sigrid pulled a face at his back, which made Tauriel snort in a rather unattractive fashion, causing Thranduil to mutter darkly about the state of the women in his family.

Once they were gone, Sigrid heaved a huge sigh and collapsed on the chair, and rested her head in her hands. She was shaking slightly but mostly she was just relieved at how lightly she’d gotten off. She had been right though, she still didn’t regret a moment of her day. She’d just have to perhaps be a little more careful in the future.

She looked into the basket and spotted a note written in leaf-green ink.

Do try to not to forget things in the future,

Lady Sigrid of Dale, only living heir to King Girion the wise.

Sigrid heaved a sigh. Perhaps they had a point. Although why they couldn’t just say it plainly she’d never understand. Why must they insist on speaking in riddles all the time?

*

Fíli had returned to the castle just in time for dinner. Thorin had been angry with him for walking out on them and for returning so late, but Dís had simply told Thorin to calm down and instead questioned Fíli about his day and how his friend was doing.

“Yeah. They’re doing fine. We ended up going for a walk in the end. It’s been such a lovely day!” he explained over dinner.

“I’m glad you seem to have had such fun.” Smiled Dís “You’ll have to introduce this friend to us at some point. I assume they’ll be attending the Ball?”

“Ball, what ball?” said Fíli, frowning

“Your Coming of Age Ball?” Said Kíli, rolling his eyes “The one Balin’s been planning for the last two months?”

“Oh. That ball.” Said Fíli, glumly. He’d had barely any say in it, and actually he was dreading it. Once he was Of Age he’d be able to rule in his own stead and would not have to rely on his Mother or Balin to act as regent in his stead. Turning eighteen had lead to an increase in his work load enough as it was, he dreaded to think what he’d have to do once he was officially old enough to take the throne. He dreaded the prospect.

The Ball was hardly for him anyway. It was more of a show to the seven families that Erebor was still as powerful as ever, and that their family was going strong. There had been rumblings after the war that their Cousin King Daín of the Ironhills should take over as King. Whilst they knew that Daín would never wish to take the Kingdom from Thorin, it didn’t stop people from plotting against them. Or at least that was what Thorin believed.

Fíli thought back to Arwen and Aragorn’s betrothal party. It had been unlike any of the Dances he’d attended previously. Everyone no matter their standing had been treated like an equal. They believed him to be a simple apprentice, a commoner, and yet they’d welcomed him as a friend and companion. He wished that they could host such parties, parties welcome to all that did not further spread the idea that Clansman only cared for themselves.

“Which reminds me. You will need to finalise the place settings and the guest list to Balin. We’ve sent them out already, but if there’s anyone from the Seven Clans that you wish to invite then you will need to tell him soon.”

“Like your friend, Fíli.” Smiled Dís infuriatingly

“Oh yes Fee” said Kíli with a grin “Wouldn’t it be nice for them to meet everyone?”

Fíli aimed a kick at his brother who let out an indignant squawk which caused Dís to grin even wider, knowing that she’d hit upon something for sure.

“I don’t think that would be wise…” Said Thorin carefully. “If we haven’t met them before and they’re not from one of the seven clans…”

“Why does everything have to be about the Clans!” said Fíli, setting down his spoon with a clang, “Erebor is made up of more than Clansman! The Commonfolk and Eldar are just as much a part of it as they are! What was the point of joining with Dale all those years ago, if we did not wish to work with them? What would Durin himself think of us?”

“Would you like to invite the Lord of Dale to the festivities then?” said Thorin raising an eyebrow

“No. Well yes. Yes we should!” said Fíli at last “I mean, from what I’ve heard, Masterson is a bit of a toad, but there are other Lords and Ladies in the Kingdom! And in the neighbouring Kingdoms as well! What of Gondor and Rohan?”

“Gondor and Rohan don’t want anything to do with us, Fíli, you know this.” Sighed Thorin “We’ve never been able to reach any agreements on trade or military support or even cultural exchange. What would be the point in extending an invitation to them?”

“How do we know they don’t want involvement? Have we ever offered them anything freely? Isn’t that how friendships are formed? Through generosity and not through force of will.”

Thorin sat still for a moment, mulling over everything he’d said. Dís smiled proudly at her son whilst Kíli looked on as though he were watching a particularly exciting sparing bout, awaiting for Thorin’s returning move.

“Very well.” Said Thorin simply. “Go and see Balin and extend an invitation to the kingdoms and the rest of the counties. We’ll host your Lords and Kings if they’ll have us.”

“What about the people of Erebor?” Said Fíli carefully, thinking back to what Sigrid has said earlier.

“What about them?” Said Thorin frowning.

“Well, shouldn’t we invite them?”

“You want to invite the entire kingdom?” Said Thorin in disbelief. Even Dís and Kíli looked shocked

“Yes, why not? Don’t they deserve a reward? Is it fair for us to rely on them to create everything for the Ball and then not invite them?”

“Well. I suppose he is right…” said Dís carefully “I mean, in the old days they used to have street parties in Dale where everyone would attend, royalty or not.”

Thorin frowned “This isn’t anything to do with this friend of yours, is it?”

“No!” laughed Fíli “Of course not! I mean, yes, it was maybe her who made me think that, maybe we should be nicer to people, but the ball is my idea alone!”

“It could be a masquerade!” chimed in Kíli, excitedly “That way, everyone can be treated as equals because nobody will know who anyone is!”

“What a novel idea.” said Dís smiling “Oh go on Thorin, let them have their fun, we were young once, after all.”

“Kun, Irak’adad, kasamhili, kasamhili Irak’adad!” said Kíli almost jumping about in his seat

Thorin heaved a mighty sigh “Is this really what you want Fíli?”

“Kun.” He nodded “Without a doubt.”

“Well then, if it will make you happy, then I suppose you best go and tell Balin what you are planning then.” He smiled affectionately at his nephews

“Akminruki astû!” they chorused and began to excitedly discuss their plans

“That was very good of you, brother.” Said Dís, fondly

“He deserves one last night of freedom.” Said Thorin sadly. “There’s something I must discuss with you both, but, perhaps it can await till after dinner…”

“What is it brother?” she asked frowning

“After dinner.” He said firmly. “I’ll tell you after dinner. Fíli,” he spoke up “after you’ve been to see Master Balin, meet your mother and I in the study.”

“Sagal mabekh.” Said Fíli shrugging, “Can I go and see Master Balin now then? I’ve finished!” he said, indicating his empty plate

“Yes go and see him,” said Thoring fondly as Fíli ran off to see Balin, Kíli running after him.

“Thorin, tell me what’s going on.” Said Dís sternly

Thorin too a deep breath “Let us go to the study.” He said and rose from his seat, it was probably best to tell her away from knives and plates.

*

“So how was your day?” said Kíli excitedly as they came back from Balin, who’d been confused by it all but happy enough to comply, considering that Thorin had already allowed it.

“Brilliant!” said Fíli in a hushed voice, a grin spread across his face.

“What happened?”

“Okay, so you won’t believe this but, we went to Lórien because I didn’t want to get caught by Dwalin again, and also it’s just a nicer wood.”

“Lórien?” said Kíli frowning “Isn’t that a bit dangerous for you? Being Thorin’s heir and all that?”

“Well, that’s the funny thing” began Fíli as he explained everything that had happened that day, Kíli’s mouth hanging open as he explained how they’d somehow managed to be invited to Lord Celeborn’s granddaughters betrothal, and met the royal families of Gondor and Rohan.

“So that’s why you’re so eager to invite them! They’re your new friends!” said Kíli excitedly

“Well, I mean, they might not like me once they know I’m Crowned Prince of Erebor but, no, actually I’m pretty sure Elrond would have told Arwen and so they probably all know by now…”

“Always the way with these things.” Chuckled Kíli, “what else happened?”

Blushing slightly, Fíli recounted how they’d ended up singing a duet together which lead to their first kiss and how amazing it felt, and how hard it had been to say goodbye.

“Bâââââââââh” cooed Kíli, ruffling his big brother’s hair. “Mê amrulidiya!”

“Itkit.” Said Fíli pushing his brother away

“You are, you’re so in love with her! Dai Ghivashelmêzu! lanselmêzu! Dai Khebabmudtumêzu!”

“Ag zasmaki rathkh-hun.” Growled Fíli.

“Asti abnâmul kuthu nurtsu baraz’alâj! You look like a pretty pink flower!”

“Idlig! I’m going to see Uncle now, and you’re not invited.”

“Goodbye Lover-boy!” Kíli called out, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face as he waved his brother goodbye.

As Fíli knocked on the door to his Uncle’s office, he started to consider the benefits of fratricide.

*

Dís was seriously considering fratricide right about now. The only thing holding her back, was the knowledge that it might make Fíli upset to become king so soon.

“I can’t believe you decided to do this! Behind his back! Me durh’falsu! Me barathgalt binakrâg!”

“Nana’” soothed Thorin “Calm yourself, it is not as bad as all that.”

“He has never been as happy as I have seen him these past few days! Not since Frerin died, and you want to take that away from him?”

“It has only been a few days, it is nothing he won’t recover from in due course.”

“Of course, because you’ve been Mr Sunshine and Roses since you sent Bilbo away?”

“This. This has nothing to do with that. That was. No Dís, do not compare our situations. They are- they’re different.”

There was a knock at the door, “Enter.” Called Thorin. Dís threw her hands in the air in frustration and plonked herself down on Thorin’s desk chair.

“Is everything okay?” asked Fíli nervously “I heard shouting…”

“Fíli,” said his mother “I hate to break it to you, but your uncle is a foul beast of a man with no honour and no love in his heart, who does not care for you.”

“Oh?” said Fíli, glancing at his uncle who was red faced and looking exhausted.

“I do care about you Fíli.” He said calmly “Your mother is exaggerating as always. It is precisely because I care about you that I have done this.” He said, placing a hand on Fíli’s shoulder

“Done what?” said Fíli with a frown

“During the meeting with The Orocani, I took some time to talk with Lady Unna Duffin and Lord Dufin.” He said carefully.

This made sense, they were the heads of the Blacklocks, a mysterious clan who dwelled in the far eastern region of The Orocarni. Thorin had been trying to reach an agreement with them for years in order to gain access to mining rights in their mountain as well as setting up a trade agreement between their people. Whilst it was true that Queen Vör ruled the range as a whole, the final say on who had access to the lands fell to the Lords and Ladies.

“We’ve reached somewhat of an agreement” began Thorin “which will benefit both our peoples.”

“That’s excellent news Uncle!” said Fíli excitedly

“He hasn’t told you what he’s done yet.” Said Dís, tersely

“As you know Fíli, there are many ways kingdoms can be joined. Through paperwork and trade agreements like with the Iron Hills, some through mutual understanding and desperation, just like how Erebor and Dale became joined. Some kingdoms join through war and violence, and others through love- just like your mother and father helped to secure ties with the Blue Mountains.”

“Oh no!” Said Dís, wagging her finger at Thorin “Do not bring Víli and I into this! We married for love, my becoming Lady of the Blue Mountains was just a perk in Father’s book.”

“Okay, why are you telling me this?” Said Fíli, “what’s going on Uncle?” though he had a sinking suspicion of what it was

“LordDufin and Lady Una have a daughter by the name of Dagní, who has just come of age.” Said Thorin carefully “She is a very nice young girl, broad of shoulder with very muscular arms, I hear she is very talented with an Axe!”

“I don’t understand…”

“She’s going to be your new wife!” Said Dís in mock excitement “Oh what wonderful news for us all! A wedding! What joy! What a lovely kind person your sweet uncle is! Getting you engaged behind your back to a woman none of us have ever even met! Ta-Da!” She said waving her hands in fake glee

Fíli didn’t know what to say. He’d always known that if he were to marry, it would have to be of some advantage to the kingdom- if was why he had been so reluctant to open his heart up to Sigrid. But he hadn’t done too good a job of keeping his distance from her…

“Well say something Fíli…” Said Thorin, anxiously

“What will our marriage bring us? What's the agreement?” He said, as calmly as he could.

“They’ve agreed, that if you were to marry, then we will have access to their Mithril mines, free trade between our people, and they will secure with us the support of Queen Vör in the event of war.”

“Is war likely?” Asked Fíli, nervously

“Of course not.” Snapped Dís

“War is always a risk. There are still those who wish us harm”

“But putting more soldiers on the line isn’t going to help that!” Cried Dís “We need to open up communications with the other lands, just as Fíli has suggested we do with the ball.”

“Yes, and it is also what Frerin tried to do and look how it turned out for him!” Yelled Thorin.

“You go too far Nadad!” Bellowed Dís “I know you blame Mirkwood and their allies for Frerin’s death but it was not their fault he was attacked! Azog’s men are everywhere and must have been tracking them. It is nothing to do with trusting the kingdoms of the Commonfolk or the Eldar!”

“It is precisely their fault!” He yelled back “The Clansman were broken! If we’d have stayed strong and together then we wouldn’t have had to trade with them in the first place! That’s why we need this marriage to happen! We need to stay strong and a Union is the only way forward if we want to protect our family and our people!”

“But he does not love her!”

“Love will come after, I’m sure. They’re a perfect match.”

“Ha! A likely story.” Scoffed Dís “She sounds amazing! Tell me how far she can throw those knives she forges? How many barrels of mead can she lift? How hairy are her legs? I’m sure these are all things Fíli looks for in a woman! Not musical ability, or friendliness or conversation. No sense of mischievous adventure! Do you even know anything about your nephew?”

“He would be foolish to say no to her. And he is just as dashing and attractive as she. Indeed, she has already agreed to the match. We just need you to agree to it, Fíli.”

“So he’s got a choice?”

“Of course.” Huffed Thorin “But I trust him to do the right thing by his kingdom and by his people. That he knows his duty comes before anything else.” He turned to look at his nephew in the eye “Well Crowned Prince Fíli of Erebor, what is your answer?”

Fíli stood still, staring at his feet. “Tell Dagní I would be honoured to have her as my wife.”

“What!” Cried Dís, jumping out of her chair and rushing towards him “Fíli! You can’t do this my child, please, don’t throw your life away like this!”

“If I do not marry her, I would risk the lives of our people. If I refuse their offer, we’ll be isolated from the Blacklocks forever more.” He said, still looking at his feet.

“That’s my boy.” Smiled Thorin, placing a hand on his shoulder “You’ll see how it will be. I’m sure you’ll be very happy together.”

“Fíli lu’! Zabirasakhjami, don’t listen to your uncle. What about your current love? Ghivashelmêzu! Think about them!”

Fíli didn’t respond to her and just gently shook his head “I’ve only really known her two days, ‘Amad.”

“See!” chuckled Thorin “It is only marlith, as they say. Though I’m sure it was more like lust! Aye my lad?” he said, bumping shoulders with him “He’ll be over it soon enough, won’t you Fee?”

Fíli flinched slightly. As far as he was concerned it was Fíli getting married. Fee’s heart still belonged to Sigrid. Fee was young and free, Fee was all instinct and love and passion and happiness. Fee had freedom of choice.

 Fíli was a slave to his duty; he understood that with his privileges came many provisos. He could renounce his kingdom as Arwen had threatened to do, as Aragorn had done- but who would take over in his place?

He couldn’t denounce the throne and give up on people, let Durin’s direct line fall from grace. It would not be fair to force Kíli to marry her in his stead. No. Fee had to bow out gracefully from existence, and Fíli had to take the reigns.

“If you’ll excuse me Uncle, I would quite like to retire to bed. It has been a long day. Thank you for organising this for me. You are a wise and noble king.” He bowed deeply and Dís scoffed at the whole situation.

“Ya harmu ‘addad, Fíli.” Smilled Thorin giving him a bow “I am very proud of you. You’ve become a fine young man. You’ll make a wise and noble king one day, the best Erebor has ever seen.” His smile for once meeting his eyes.

“Mashag.” Muttered Dís “Mashagâr.”

“Zann galikh, ‘Amad.” Said Fíli kissing her on the cheek “I’ll be fine, thank you for caring, but, I’ll be fine.” He gave her a hug and Dís watched him leave the room with a sinking feeling in her heart.

“I hope you know what you’ve done, Thorin. He’ll be without love for the rest of his life now. Just like you.”

“Just like me?” Said Thorin indignantly

“Yes, brother. You gave up any hope of love when you banished Bilbo from the Kingdom, all because he tried to save you from yourself!”

“Bilbo passed our best weapons and information onto our foes. He had to be punished.”

“He stopped you from killing hundreds of people.” Said Dís softly “He saved your soul, brother, and then you broke his heart.” She shook her head “And buried your own in the process.”

“I did my duty.” He said firmly “I could not be seen to affiliate with a traitor. I did the right thing. Just as Fíli is doing.”

“You are so wrong brother. So wrong and you don’t even realise it.” She said sadly “However, I really hope you’re making the right choice in this marriage Thorin. I really do.”

She left the room, closing the door softly behind her. Thorin collapsed into the desk chair and rested his head in his hands. What had he done? What was he doing? Had he really doomed his nephew to a life of misery? Where duty always came before happiness?

He reached into his desk and pulled out the small acorn Bilbo had left him and held it gently in his hand. “Oh Bilbo, khebabmudtuê, forgive me please.” He placed a kiss to it and stared at the world map on the wall, wondering, not for the first time, if it was too late to send a message to the Shire to see what had become of their former ambassador.

Chapter Text

Fíli had gone straight to his room after he’d left and rested his back against the door, banging his head slowly against it. He should have known better. Should have never followed her in the first place. Should have just let her kill that damn stag and move on with his life.

He’d have married this Dagní girl and got on with trying to run his kingdom, content in the knowledge that he’d never known love and so would be unable to miss it. Who knows, perhaps he and Dagní would have actually gotten on really well, and come to love each other just as Thorin said they would.

However, Fíli did know love now. He knew the beautiful searing pain he felt within himself. Knew how he wanted to wallow forever in it and allow it to consume him. Knew that being without her hurt more than he could ever know. That the very thought of her face could make the world seem a happier place and that being with her made the world come to a standstill.

She was his marlûno, his khebabmudtu, his ghivashel. To be without her felt like he wasn’t a whole person anymore. She had taken a part of him with her and was keeping it safe for him until they’d meet again and they’d feel whole again.

Yet he’d just agreed to marry another person. To live without her forever more. He’d likely never see her again, and she might never know why. Might never understand. But his duty to his kingdom came first. He had to do right by the people, she’d taught him that. If his marriage to Dagní could bring about the happiness and well being of others where a relationship with Sigrid would not, well then his choice was clear enough.

However, in the privacy of his room, he could allow himself to wallow in sadness for perhaps a little longer. He heaved a big sigh and let himself cry. Cry as he did when he was only a boy and mourning the loss of Frerin. Cry as he did when he was lost in the woods and the Eldar Woman had come to find him.

Have heart, little prince. All will be fine.

Fíli jumped. Where had that voice come from? It sounded like his bagûna, but it couldn’t be surely? How could she have gotten past the guards? He tiptoed to his window and looked out into the palace gardens. It was peaceful and quiet out there, the birds had already sung their evening song, and there was nothing but the low hoot of the owls as they sought out one another admits the darkness. Fíli stared at the forest where he’d always run to when he wanted to get away from his duties as a prince.

He wanted to run there now. However, running and hiding was what children did. It was what Fee would do, and he was no longer Fee. He was Prince Fíli. He had to remember that.

“Fee?” came a small knock at the door “Fee, it’s me, Kee, let me in?”

“Go away Kee.” Sighed Fíli “I just want to be alone.”

“I know that’s not true brother.” Said Kíli through the door

“Yes it is Kee.” He huffed “Just leave me alone. I’ll be alright. I’m an adult, I can handle things.”

“You’re not of age yet Fee.” Came the voice through the door “Now let your baby brother come and comfort you.”

Fíli rolled his eyes and tutted to himself, but went over to open the door anyway. Outside, he found a sheepish looking Kíli holding a mug of hot cocoa and a tray of biscuits.

“Bombur told me to give these to you.” He said simply, placing them down on his bedside table. “How you holding up Na’?” he asked

Fíli bit his lip and took a deep breath. “I’m fine Kíli, honestly. I’m fine. I always knew this was going to happen. I told myself not to get too involved with anyone and so, I mean. Best it happens now than further down the line before it’s too late.” He sniffed slightly, turning away from Kíli “It’s like Thorin said. It’s only marlith. I’ll get over it soon enough.”

“Only marlith?” said Kíli incredulously “There’s nothing only about marlith!”

“You would say that though Kee, don’t you understand? You fall in love with the drop of a hat! But it’s not all dashing knights and True Love’s First Kiss in the real world Kíli! We don’t live in a fairy tale and it’s time you understood that.”

“Fee, you’re being stupid come on don’t-”

“Don’t call me Fee.” He snapped “I’m Fíli. Crowned Prince Fíli of Clan Longbeard, first in line to the throne of Erebor and heir of Durin. That’s who I am, not some young apprentice at a castle with not a care in the world other than for his sweetheart.”

“You’re both Fee and Fíli.” Said Kíli, softly. “You need to have both parts in order to be true to yourself. You can’t just try and ignore one part of you in the hopes of becoming more like the other half. It’s not how it works.”

“Well, it doesn’t work for us like it does for normal people, Kee.” Sighed Fíli, sitting down on his bed “If we want to live in a castle and never have to want for food, if we want to have plush beds and running water, well then we’ve got a duty to fulfil. And that duty often means doing things you don’t want to do.”

“Like marrying someone you’ve never met, even though you’ve already found your marlûno?”

“Even if I have found my marlûno.” Whispered Fíli

“Why don’t I marry Dagní instead, aye?” said Kíli, coming down to sit next to him. “The Blacklocks still get their royal prince and link to the throne, plus they get to inherit the title of ‘Lord of the Blue Mountains’ which I know they’ve been wanting to get their mits on for years, and they still get a crack at the throne!”

Fíli laughed “It is very kind of you Nadadith. But I could never let you go through with that. How could I watch you throw away your own chance at happiness?”

“Because I fall in love at the drop of a hat and have never known love like you do now.”

“But someday you might.” Pleaded his brother “And after all, it is better to have known the joys of having your marlûno close to you and missing them each day, then to live your life unaware of where they might be because you’re too busy trying to make a loveless marriage work.”

“Well, maybe Dagní is my marlûno.” Said Kíli definitely “I mean, I’ve never met her, have I? Nor have you, how do we know that this isn’t just the universes’ plan to get us together.”

Fíli laughed at that “Oh Nadad.” He said pulling him in to rest their foreheads together “I forget just how young you are sometimes.”

“And you, brother, forget that you are young as well.” He smiled

The brothers broke apart and flopped down onto the bed together, staring up at the ceiling as they did when they were children.

“So what are you going to do?” asked Kíli after a while

“Marry Dagní and bring happiness to the kingdom.”

“I mean, about Sigrid, she has a right to know everything. I mean, she’ll hear about the Prince getting married to someone who isn’t her, and, okay so she’s clearly not the most up-to-date person considering she’s been close enough to kiss your ugly face and still didn’t recognise it as belonging to her Future King, but at the very least she’ll know you’ve disappeared and don’t plan to see her again, leaving no explanation as to why.”

“I was going to write her a letter.” Said Fíli, simply.

“A letter? You were going to write her a Dear Jansí letter? Oh Nadad that is so not fair on her. You need to meet her! Tell her the truth face to face and have one last day of freedom. Go and tell her that you’re Fee and Fíli and that you both love her. Let her know that she’s your marlûno.”

“How?” said Fíli hopelessly “I mean, Balin’s going to have me running around getting everything ready, and Thorin will no doubt be giving me even more speeches about duty and nobility and all of that. How will I get out?”

“The same way we did when we were kids.” Shrugged Kíli “Hop out of your window onto the roof and slide down the tiles until someone catches you at the bottom.”

“Kee, I weigh more than twice that I did when I was eight. I don’t think it’s going to work.”

“Honestly, it’s like you don’t trust me at all!” sighed Kíli

“Considering the number of broken bones you’ve had due to your own escape attempts, I think I’m within my right to be doubtful of your abilities.”

“Look, I’ll think of something, just, when you hear Thorin shouting, take your chance and run, okay?”

There was another soft knock on the door “Fíli, it’s Mum, can I come in?”

The brothers looked at one another uncertain what to do.

“I promise I won’t try and tell you what to do, or have a go at you. I just want to know if you’re okay. I’ve got something to give to you.”

“You can come in then, I guess.” Called out Fíli

Dís entered the room cautiously “Well doesn’t this remind me of old times.” She smiled as she noted the boys sitting on the bed together, “just like when you were just little badgers trying to stay up all night to watch the dawn.”

“Yes Mum, we know.” Said Kíli, rolling his eyes “We were very cute and adorable at the time and now we’re big grown men.”

Dís sighed “Not as old as your uncle or yourselves might think.” She came over to sit between them on the bed

“I know that you’re determined to go through with this Fíli.” Said Dís seriously, “and whilst I cannot say I would do the same in your shoes, or that I agree that you’re doing the right thing,” Fíli was about to open his mouth to complain when Dís silenced him with a finger “However, I know that what you’re doing is a noble thing indeed, and I am so happy to have raised a boy who cares so deeply about those around him. However.” She said mysteriously “I thought that perhaps you needed to think about a certain someone in particular.” She grinned, and from the depths of her long midnight blue gown, she withdrew a slightly startled looking Rek.

Rek squawked at her indignantly and tossed her beak from side to side. “I know Rek, I know. You don’t like being stored there as much as the other Karâk, but I had to sneak you out of there without anyone noticing!”

“It seems you’re both plotting against Thorin then.” Sighed Fíli holding out his arm for Rek to jump onto.

“Well, somebody has to keep him on his toes.” Chuckled Dís “Now, what are you going to say in this letter then? Would you like some help writing it?”

“’Amad!” complained Fíli “It’s personal. I’m not going to tell you what I’m going to send!”

“Oh come on my little lion, I’m not going to blabber to the whole castle. I just want to give you a hand!”

“You don’t want to be kept out of the loop anymore. I know you questioned Rek when she got back from delivering the first letter, don’t pretend you didn’t.” said Fíli sternly “But I also know that Rek wouldn’t say anything after I told her not to.” He smiled fondly at the raven “Isn’t that right girl?” he squawked

Dís heaved a sigh “Very well. Keep more secrets from your mother. Continue to lie to her if you must, but at least tell me the name of the person who’s captured my son’s heart in such a way.”

“Sigrid.” Said Fíli, her very name brining joy to his heart

“A beautiful name.” she smiled “Come now Kíli, leave your brother to it, he’s going to have a big day tomorrow I’m sure.” Smiled Dís fondly, throwing an arm around her youngest.

“You’re not going to fall in love with someone you’ll be doomed to never get to be with, are you karakith?”

“Not if I can help it ‘Amad” he smiled, “It seems like a whole lot of bother if you ask me.”

“That it is my child, that it is.” She kissed the top of his head as they walked back to their rooms.

Fíli had no idea what to write to her. How could he explain everything to her in only a letter? Kíli was right, he’d have to see her in person, but how to set the tone correctly…

He chewed on the top of his quill thoughtfully, earning a glare from Rek for disrespecting one of her brethren’s feathers in such a way. Eventually, he found the correct words and wrote out the message as neatly as he could, passing it to Rek to give to Sigrid.

“You know where to find her, yeah?” He asked, Rek giving a nod of her head in response “Brilliant.” He said, taking her to the window. “Fly fast my friend.” He called as she flew out of the window and into the dark “Fly fast and true.”

Fíli stayed there for some time, enjoying the cool breeze and clinging to the idea of seeing Sigrid again, rather than the realisation that it could well be for the last time.

*

Thranduil had been true to his word and even though it was coming up to midnight, she was still wide awake and working in the kitchen. There was a soft tapping at the window, and Sigrid stood up excitedly, hoping it to be a Raven with a message.

She was in luck! It was Rek again (she could tell by the shape of her beak) and once more, she had a scroll tied to her foot with red ribbon.

With eager fingers, she took the message from the bird, who she rewarded with some giblets from dinner, and read the message from Fee.

She re-read the letter twice, frowning as she did so. She sat down, her hand on her heart, trying to take it all in. She thought she understood what he was saying, but surely she had to be misinterpreting it?

Amrâlimê,

I wish I could write to you with gladder tidings.

I wish I could write to you with promises of being together forever and always.

However, I value you too much to lie to you anymore.

Know that all I have said to you of my feelings and of my innerself is true.

However, I have not been honest with you in regards to my outerself.

I do not wish to explain all of this in a letter, but please,

 let me know if you are able to be free tomorrow so as we may talk.

News has arisen here at the castle that means it may be our last chance to be together, and I’d hate to waste it due to another misconception.

I promise there will be no arresting or kidnapping this time.

Yours forever 

Fí

“What does it mean?” said Sigrid, looking to Rek for help “What does he mean ‘news has arisen here’, what news? What news of the royal household would affect us being together?”

Rek cocked her head to one said and snapped her beak.

“Why can’t humans and birds share a common tongue as well.” Muttered Sigrid impatiently.

“What’s all this ‘innerself’ and ‘outerself’ stuff even mean?” she bit her lip “It’s like he’s saying he’s lied to me but not. Like he’s been keeping secrets from me as I have from him. But- oh.” She said setting the letter down on the kitchen table and staring at it like it might combust

“He’s not, Fí. He signed it Fí not Fee. He’s- oh. Fíli.” she stared at the letter uncertain how to react to the news that her Prince Charming really was a prince.

Rek hopped over and began to tug on her sleeve, clearly impatient for a reply.

“Yes, yes, you damn bird, ow!” she cried as Rek have her a sharp nip with her beak “Hold on now you.” She said wagging her finger “Don’t have a go at me when it’s your master who’s been the one causing all this trouble.” She went to the drawer and withdrew some parchment and some ink, and set about considering how to reply.

She’d considered writing and telling him to Fuck Off, but found she could not find it in her heart to do so, after all, she’d kept secrets from him as well. She tapped her quill on the tip of the ink pot, thinking carefully and began to write.

My beloved Prince Charming,

What a world it is, where lovers lie to each other to cover up truths they share.

You are not the only one with royal lineage,

 though yours has lasted a little longer perhaps.

You my want to look up people who can communicate with the song birds,

and their connection to the line of King Girion the wise.

Oh what a fool I’ve been to not realise who you were sooner!

You must think of me as such a simpleton.

Though I do understand why you kept it a secret.

There is certainly something special about being seen as an equal.

Alas, love of mine, I do not know if I will be able to see you tomorrow.

My stepfather was very angry at me for returning so late the other day, he practically has be under lock and key. However, if you are able to come to the farmhouse in the afternoon, my stepfamily will be out performing

completely legal and morally correct deeds at the club.

Knock twice on the door with the thrush carved into it, and I will know it is you.

Forever yours, beholder of my heart

Lady Sigrid

When Fíli got the letter, he had to read over it several times to make sure he fully understood, then again once more just to appreciate the fact that it had been her hand that had written it. He was becoming a sentimental, love sick idiot, and if the situation wasn’t so serious- he’d rather love the feeling.

“So Sigrid is from the line of Girion? But, her family are dead so she can’t be Lord Masterson’s child… Unless…” he thought back to his lessons with Balin over the lords of the counties and their histories. Dale, being the largest county in the kingdom, had once been a kingdom in it's own right. However, a plague had struck it to it's knees, and King Girion decided that it would be better to give up his title and pass the kingdom into the care of Erebor than to see his people suffer further more.

Despite being the largest county, it was also one of the poorest. He’d only met the previous lord once, when he was very young, but he could recall his faded robes and work roughened features… he couldn’t remember much else… Perhaps she would fill him in on the details tomorrow? He wanted to know more about her past, wanted to know Sigrid for exactly as she was, just as he wished she knew him for who he was.

But if Sigrid really was a rightful heir to Girion, then she was nobility in the eyes of the law. Oh how things could have been so different if they’d come clean sooner! But alas, no. Not anymore. He was promised to a strong and hairy clanswoman with actual power and lands. Thorin would never allow him to break off the engagement just so as he could marry a penniless Lady living in a dusty farmhouse whose lands were ruled by a greedy and selfish Lord.

That night, Fíli went to bed clutching the letter to his chest, and wondered what Kíli and his mother were planning for Thorin. He would feel sorry for him, if he had not already gone behind his back and betrayed his trust. Quite frankly, Thorin was due some sort of punishment for his behaviour, and he was quite happy to let the rest of his family deal it to him.

Chapter Text

Fíli awoke early that morning and began to make preparations. Over breakfast, before Thorin’s arrival, Dís and Kíli explained the gist of their plan. They refused to give Fíli further information, stating that it was in his best interest not to know the details. Dís explained that it was better to be ignorant than to feign ignorance.

In turn, Fíli told them when he was leaving to meet with Sigrid, though, despite their pleading, he did not tell them of what else they’d discussed in their letters. He only confirmed that he had told her who he was, and that she didn’t seem to be too upset by it.

“Well that’s a relief,” sighed Dís sinking into her chair and taking a sip of tea “I mean, it was quite the fib you told her, pretending to be an apprentice with Balin. She’d certainly have a right to be angry with you. I would be if it were me.”

“It’s not really a fib though.” Said Fíli squirming slightly “I mean, an apprentice is someone who is training to take on a role as an expert, which is basically what a prince is…”

“If you say so my badger.”

“If you say what now Fíli?” asked Thorin entering the room “Mi targê! Both my nephews awake and finishing their breakfast already, is there a Fire Moon in the sky tonight?”

“That is a question for the astronomers, brother.” Smiled Dís, winking at her sons.

*

Sigrid couldn’t help but wake up early that morning simply through nerves. She didn’t know what mood Thranduil would be in today, or if he still planned on taking his children into town that afternoon. So much of her plan balanced on what Thranduil wanted to do. Of course, she technically wouldn’t be breaking his rules, she planned to stay inside the house after all and he had said nothing about inviting people inside.

“I notice that you have yet to get rid of the spiders as I asked.”

“Yes!” said Legolas, flipping his hair over his shoulder “I found one the size of my fist crawling all over my wardrobe just this morning.”

“It was hardly the size of your fist, brother.” Scoffed Tauriel “and anyway, I killed it so stop complaining.”

“Yes! Leaving a horrible squished spider on my bedroom floor. Can’t you just put it into a little jar next time or something? By the way Sigrid,” he said turning to her “You’ll have to go and clean it up as soon as possible, I don’t want it to stain.”

“It’s just a spider, Legolas,” sighed Sigrid “Can’t you deal with it?” Legolas pulled a face of horror at the very idea

“Don’t worry, I’ll do it Sigrid.” Said Tauriel, kindly

“No.” Said Thranduil, not looking up from his paper “Sigrid needs to learn to do as she’s told. Go and clean up the spider Sigrid, then come back down and finish the chores I set you earlier.”

“Yes Stepfather.” Said Sigrid

“Oh and we’ll be out this afternoon.” Sigrid gave a little fist pump as she exited the room “So we’ll be locking all the doors when we go, so don’t go getting any ideas of breaking windows, or else I’ll know that you’ve disobeyed.” He looked over the top of the paper at her “I assume you remember our little chat last night about rule breaking.”

“Yes Stepfather, I won’t break any of your rules, I promise.”

“Good.” He said absentmindedly, turning back to his paper.

Sigrid trudged down to the kitchen to fetch a cloth and a bucket to clean up the dead spider. What was Tauriel’s preconception with killing things? For a woman so ethereal looking, she could certainly be deadly when she needed to be. Sigrid hoped that she’d never get to see just how deadly she could be.

*

Fíli had spent the morning with Balin, finalising things for the upcoming ball as well as mapping out the details for his betrothal. Apparently Dagní and her family would be arriving the same day as the ball, and so plans were already in place for the ceremony to take place soon after.

“Once you enter into the betrothal, it will be very hard to back out of.” Said Balin carefully “It’s a formal contract between the families, laying down the grounds for the start of official agreements, however, if it is broken apart early – even by mutual consent – we will have to pay them a great deal of money. So you must think carefully, Fíli, is this really what you want?”

“Will it be beneficial to the kingdom and its people?”

“Oh yes Laddie. Very beneficial indeed.”

“Then it must be so.” He sighed “Are those the invitations to the ball?” he asked pointing at the mountain of envelopes “Aye, one for each household in the land, just as you asked. I think it’s a grand idea, Fíli. It’ll really bring people together, it’s high time the castle opened its doors to the people.” He said, patting on him on the shoulder

“Thank you Master Balin.” Smiled Fíli, returning the gesture.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, they heard the distinct bellowing shout of Thorin “YOU’VE DONE WHAT!?”

Fíli glanced at the clock on Balin’s shelf, it seemed his mother and Kíli had put their plan into action already.

Balin sighed “I best go and see what that’s about. You’ll be alright here by yourself, won’t you Laddie?”

“Yeah. Of course.” Said Fíli, plastering as innocent a look over his face as he could, “You go and see to Uncle. I think mum mentioned something earlier about some news she was expecting from the west?”

“Oh no. She wouldn’t, would she?” muttered Balin, grabbing his satchel and hurrying out the door

Fíli took a moment to consider following after Balin, had his mother gone too far? He glanced at the plans for the betrothal that sat upon the desk and made his decision. He checked to see if the coast was clear and then made his way back to his room, going as fast as he could without looking suspicious. When he got to the window, he noticed that the maid had conveniently left his clean sheets out however hadn’t yet finished changing the bed.

With a grin, Fíli tied all the sheets together into a rope. He secured one end to the bed post and threw the other out the window. He looked down and noticed that it didn’t quite reach the bottom, however there was, conveniently, a large horse drawn cart filled with hay directly below him.

Smiling, Fíli began to lower himself down as carefully as he could and dropped the last couple of meters, landing in the soft bed of hay. He felt the cart begin to move and he poked his head up to see who was driving, he spotted the familiar gardener’s hat of Bofur and the black and white hair of his brother, Bifur.

“You heard about how King Thorin’s arranged for Prince Fíli to marry the Blacklock Girl?”

“Ló?” said Bifur casually, turning his head to motion to Fíli to duck down, which he did obligingly.

“That’s what Bombur heard down in the kitchens.” Nodded is brother “Apparently, the Lady Dís isn’t all to happy about it. They say the Prince has got himself a secret beau. Which doesn’t surprise me, as handsome a lad as is, I’m surprised that half the kingdom isn’t queuing up to marry him, so why he’s agreed to the Blacklock match only Mahal will know.”

“Nadad ignig.” Said Bifur pointing down towards the path

“Aren’t we in a chatty mood this morning” scoffed Bofur “You all done platting your beard then?” he asked, “You’re not normally so vain, what’s changed you this morning?”

“Ambâkhu. Ignig.”

“Okay then Brother, whatever you say.” He rolled his eyes “But if Farmer Jones gets this late then there’ll be Hel to pay, and I’ll be blaming you.”

“Mahitsik.” Grunted Bifur, derisively

“Hey, one day, those realistically jointed wooden horses are going to make us rich, brother! Don’t sniff at them so easily.” He said, flicking the reins and making the horse move faster “Now now, don’t you roll your eyes at me, I’m correct and you know it! I just need to work out how to get them to a wider market. If only we could have reached that trade agreement, I’d have been able to get up there. Oh well, no use crying over spilt ale.”

Bofur’s aimless chatter continued on throughout the journey, with Bifur making the occasional small comment as they went along. Eventually, the cart drew past the town and headed into the country, at first Fíli wasn’t sure where he was, but soon he began to recognise paths and houses he’d ridden past before an at least had a rough idea where he was.

Bofur pulled the cart to a complete stop just outside the gate to a large farmhouse. “You stay here now Bifur, watch out for Old Gabby here” he said, patting the horses’ neck “make sure she doesn’t get into any trouble. “I’ll just sort of the final price and we can unload after, alright?”

“Kun.”

Bofur nodded and headed inside. Bifur turned around quickly

“Jalaignig! Imlim!” he said frantically, pointing down the street where Fíli recognised the river that lead to Sigrid’s house.

“Bâha akminruki astû. Mahal tadnani astù, sanzigil tamkhihi astû.” Said Fíli, reaching out to clasp him on the arm.

“Ya harmu ‘addad” said Bifur, a broad grin hidden beneath his beard “Imlim! Marlûnozu iskhi ra me amralidiya jalai’gil.”

Fíli took a moment to thank Bifur once more and sped off down the road. The retired miner didn’t have to aid them, could have easily told his brother of their plans but instead he had decided to help him to see his marlûno one last time, having no doubt been told about everything from his mother and Kíli. Bifur had shown himself to be truly loyal- he’d have to find a way to thank him properly. Perhaps a knighthood would suffice?

He didn’t stop to think too much on it, and instead ran down the street, eyes fixed on his destination, on where Sigrid was waiting for him.

*

Thranduil had stayed true to his word and had locked all the doors to the house. Luckily though, when he’d sent Tauriel down to lock the kitchen doors, she’d only pretended to lock the one leading to the garden

“He might be okay with trapping you inside, but I’m not.” She said kindly, giving her Stepsister a hug

“Thank You Tauriel.” Said Sigrid, smiling softly “What’s come over you of late? You’ve never seemed to care all that much?”

“Maybe I’m realising now what kind of person my Father was turning me into, and how I didn’t want to be that.”

Sigrid thought on those words as she watched her go, but put it to the back of her mind and she cleaned and prepared the kitchen for Fíli’s arrival. She reset the kitchen table to make it look more presentable. She had bread cooking in the oven to create a homely smell, placing the biscuits she’d made earlier that day on a plate in the middle.

She was just setting the water to boil to make herself some calming tea when there were two soft knocks on the door. With such haste that she almost fell over her own skirts, Sigrid ran to the door to open it. Her heart had been pounding in her chest with excitement, but one look at him and it somehow managed to beat faster than a bird’s.

“Hello.” Said Sigrid, breathlessly

“Hello.” Said Fí with a small smile “It’s good to see you again. I thought, I didn’t think, my Uncle”

“You mean King Thorin of Erebor, that uncle yeah?”

“Yeah.” Said Fí sheepishly “That one. Sorry for not telling you about that…”

“Well you should be.” Laughed Sigrid as she stepped aside to let him in “You can make up for it now if you like by giving me a kiss.”

Fí happily obliged, reviling in the feel of her hair between his hands and the way he had to crane his neck to meet her lips. When they broke apart, they didn’t let go, and just stood in the kitchen, holding one another close. 

“Hello again.” Said Sigrid smiling

“Hello.” Said Fí, finally letting her go. “Something smells good in here!” he said, sniffing at the air

“Fresh bread.” Said Sigrid simply, “Should be ready to take out of the oven if you fancy some?”

“I’d love to taste your baking!” said Fí excitedly “Did you make those as well?” he asked, pointing to the plate in the centre of the table

“Yep.” Said Sigrid smiling “It’s cheaper to make our own stuff than bring it in, and my Stepfamily are really not the kind of people to bake.” She laughed, remembering the time Legolas had gotten flour on his coat and the look of complete disgust on his face, as though the flour had personally insulted his mother. Fí took a biscuit off of the plate and let out a moan of pleasure

“This is amazing Sigrid!” he said, taking another bite

“Well it’s nice to know they’ve got your Royal Seal of Approval.” She joked, setting the bread aside to cool for a while.

“You’re not going to let that one go, are you?” he said smirking

“Nope.” She agreed “I mean, you’re the Crowned Prince of Erebor and you never even told me, I think I’ve reserved some rights to make fun of you for it.”

“Hey, you’re the one who didn’t recognise me, I just didn’t see fit to correct you.” He shrugged “Plus, you’re one for having a go at me about secrets, your ladyship.” He said with a deep bow

Sigrid giggled “I think Prince out weighs Lady anytime. And technically I’m no longer a lady. Da died shortly after marrying Thranduil, and as Masterson was his closet living relative, he inherited everything except for this house. Daughters and spouses can’t inherit land, and the title belongs to the land, so I’m only a former Lady, not a current one.”

“You are the child of a Lord and the Heir to a King. That makes you at least a Lady in my book,” he said taking her hands in his “Or even a Princess if you prefer.”

Sigrid pulled a face at that “Princess Sigrid? No thank you. Lady Sigrid will do nicely if you have to pick something.” She joked

“Then Lady Sigrid it shall be.” He smiled

“And what shall I call you then? Crowned Prince Fíli? Fee the Apprentice? Your Majesty?”

“Firstly, it’s Highness for a Prince, Majesty is only for a King or Queen.”

“Oh well then I do apologise.” Laughed Sigrid

“Secondly, you may call me whatever you like, so long as you will do me the favour of keeping my heart close to yours.” He looked at her with large blue eyes that made him look so vulnerable before her.

“Of course, my beloved. So long as you will take care of mine in return.”

Fí sighed and placed a kiss to her hands “I do not think you should trust me with that, Amrâlime. For I have already broken my own, I would not trust myself with yours as well.”

“Fee, I don’t understand.” She said frowning “What do you mean you’ve broken your own heart, your letter, there were things I didn’t quite get…”

Fíli sighed “Time to melt the gold I suppose. Lady Sigrid, asti Ghivashelê. Asti lanselê. Asti ‘ibinu kuylê”

“Those all sound very lovely” said Sigrid with a slightly dreamy and greedy expression on her face “but I have no idea what you’re saying.” She smiled “I assume they’re all lovely things, but for all I know you could be breaking things off with me.” She laughed and Fíli smiled sadly and took her hands in his once more.

“Things always sound better and more important to me in my mother tongue, forgive me.” He said brushing his lips against her wrist “‘Asti Ghivashelê’ means, you are my treasure of all treasures. He pulled her closer and placed a kiss to her forearm.

“‘Asti lanselê’ means that you are my love of all loves.” He placed a gentle kiss to the base of her neck, Sigrid gave out a hitch of excited breath at this and tried to cover it up with a cough, though Fíli simply smirked and kissed her there again, longer this time, extracting quite an inappropriate moan from Sigrid.

“‘Asti ‘ibinu kyslê’ means that you are the gem of my life.” He peppered small kisses up the side of her neck and gently sucked at the pulse point of her neck, making Sigrid feel breathless and warm

“‘Amrali astî’ means I love you.” He said, cupping her face in one hand, and brushed her hair behind her ear with the other. Sigrid could see the pleading look in his eyes, too afraid to ask the question.

“What is, ‘I love you too?’” she asked, licking her lips. She saw the corners of his eyes crinkle and a smile spread across his face

“‘Amralizu ya’”

“Am-ra-li-zu ya” said Sigrid, and pulled him forward the last few centimetres to kiss him as soundly as she was able, and to take the opportunity to run her hands through his hair and along his back, to touch as much of him as she dared to.

Fíli broke the kiss though, and she could see there was a deep sadness beginning to well in his eyes.

“Oh Sigrid,” he sighed “Marlûlnê, it would be this day that you could make me the happiest man of any race in Arda, but I feel as though my heart is breaking further more.”

“Fee you’re scaring me.” Said Sigrid “What’s wrong, what’s happening? Are you, are you breaking things off with me?” She said dropping her hands “Is it because you don’t want to be seen with a commoner?” she said accusatively “Or because your family can’t bare the thought of a Durin falling in love with a simple girl of the Commonfolk.”

“Sigrid there is nothing simple about you! As for my family, my mother has tried to get out as much information about you as she can. She was the one who helped me get out of the castle so as I could see you. My brother won’t stop teasing me about how much I love you, and keeps claiming that you are far too good for me – which would be correct.” He laughed and Sigrid nodded in agreement.

“So what then Fee?” she asked “What do you mean helped you get out the castle? By the valar Fee just tell me the truth for a change!” she said, her eyes blazing with fire “If you love me like you say you do, then just tell me the truth and we can work it out together!”

“My uncle has arranged for me to be betrothed in the next few days. To a woman I’ve never even met. Just after my Coming of Age Ball. I only found out yesterday.” He said, hanging his head

“And you’ve said yes?” she said tentatively. Fíli nodded his head “why?” she asked quietly

“Because of what you told me before”

“Don’t listen to me I was an idiot” said Sigrid quickly “I didn’t mean that stuff about your family I didn’t-”

“You did and you were correct.” He smiled “Same as always no doubt. It’s just that, Dagní” Sigrid couldn’t help but scoff at the name and Fíli chuckled softly “Dagní is the daughter of the leaders of the Blacklock Clan. We’ve been trying to trade with them for decades, but they’ve always refused to even enter discussions. We know that they are wealthy but they refuse to share any of that wealth, even amongst the other clans of The Orocani.” He explained “However, if I agree to marry their daughter, then they will open up trade to all of Erebor! People will be able to expand their businesses, there’ll be more traders coming down to Erebor which will lead to more people from the rest of the kingdoms coming here. Erebor would become a trading capital of Arda!” he said pleadingly “All because I got married.”

“To someone you don’t love.” Said Sigrid, pleadingly

“Sigrid. This breaks my heart into a thousand pieces, believe me. But my duty to my kingdom comes first. A king should not feast and celebrate whilst his people suffer.”

Sigrid slowly nodded. She knew there was no way she could change her mind. To some extent, she was proud of him for doing this, for putting Erebor’s needs above his own. It was what her father might have done. He had lived his life putting the needs of others before his own. Even if he taught her that family always came first no matter what, to rule a kingdom was to have a very large family.

“I understand. It’s okay.” She said, trying to hold back the tears “I mean, I can’t say I’m all that happy about it.” She joked “But I understand why you’re doing it.”

“Thank-you” whispered Fíli as he rested his head against hers

“Thank-you” said Sigrid in return. They sat like that for a moment or two, just breathing each other in for what Sigrid feared might be the last time.

“So will I never see you again after this?” Sniffed Sigrid, “Is this to be our last goodbye, here at the kitchen table where I grew up. Where I now live as a servant?”

“No.” said Fíli strongly “No. I will not allow this to be the last time we see each other. My Coming of Age Ball, is in a few days time. Invitations have been sent out so as everyone in the kingdoms may come, no matter their race or class. I did it for you.” He said smiling “In the hope that you and our friends from Lórien might join us again.”

“I seem to be full of such amazing ideas in your mind.” Grinned Sigrid

“You are my inspiration behind all my best acts.” He smiled, bowing his head to her “The Ball is to be a masquerade. Nobody will recognise us for who we are, I can be Fee one last time, and then I shall have to entrust him to you to look after for the rest of my days.” He said, placing her hands on his heart. “Please tell me you will come?” he begged, putting an invitation upon the kitchen table.

“I promise.” She said. “I promise I will come. Nothing will stop me Fee. I swear, I will come and find you and we will dance together for all to see and for all to know our love. Even if they don’t know exactly who we are.” She smiled and Fíli beamed up at her like she was the most beautiful being he’d ever seen. Something so miraculous and glorious that even the stars gazed upon her with awe.

Fíli kissed her one more time “Thank You. Sigrid you’ve no idea how much you mean to me I-”

Suddenly, there was a banging from upstairs. “Thranduil.” Said Sigrid, wide eyed “He doesn’t know I’m expecting anyone. Go, quick! Before he finds you!” said Sigrid dragging Fíli to the door.

“Sigrid? Where are you! Come here Girl.”

“Find me at he ball!” said Fíli one last time.

“I promise.” Said Sigrid “I love you Fíli.” She said breathing heavily and close to tears once more “I love you so much.” She pulled him in for one final kiss. It was all teeth and passion and words that could not be found in any language.

“Sigrid!” bellowed Thranduil “If you do not come here right now…”

“Go!” she said pushing him away from her now.

Fíli didn’t let go of her hand till she shut the door on him. “I’m here Stepfather!” she called “I was just getting the bread out of the oven.” She wiped her hands on her apron and washed her face. “I’m coming now.” She took a deep breath and tried to think of the happier times in her life. The times spent in this little farmhouse with her real family. The times she spent with Fee in the Forrest and at Aragorn and Arwen’s Dance. The way her heart had skipped a beat to do a backflip when Fíli had told her he loved her.

It would be her strength for now. It was all she had left now that darkness seemed to loom over her shoulder.

*

“You see now my Lord Saruman!” said Gandalf, pointing out the Durins, the Blacklocks and the Girion Girl.  “If we just help them along, look at all the good they could do!”

“Yes. I see that Gandalf, but what has it to do with us? They all seem to be heading along their paths true enough. Why must you always feel the need to interfere my friend?”

“Because, Saruman, sometimes people need a helping hand in life to see things for as they should be.”

Saruman let out a sigh. “Very well. You may do as you wish on the day of the Ball. But only on the day of the Ball, Gandalf. 24 hours that’s all you are getting.”

“Of course, my Lord. Whatever you say my Lord.” He gave a slight bow, he looked up and caught Lady Galadriel’s eye. The pair shared a quiet thought and grinned.

Things were about to get exciting. So much hanged on that day. Years of planning and it all came down to a dance and a kiss. Gandalf couldn’t wait to get started.

Chapter Text

Dís looked on forlornly as her son continued about his day. He’d gotten back sooner than she’d expected, and looked more miserable then she feared. Even though he was all smiles whenever his family were around, his eyes lacked their usual sparkle.

“How did it go?” Asked Dís when they were alone

“Balin has everything sorted, the invites are all sent out and the staff seem excited about the prospect of being invited to a royal ball at long last. They’ve been outside looking in for a long time, it has been a little unfair for them to put in so many hours of preparation and then never invite them, after all.”

“I don’t mean your meeting with Balin, I mean your meeting with Sigrid?”

“Oh.” Said Fíli dejectedly. “Yes. It went as well as can be expected,” a small smile graced his lips and for once Dís knew it to be genuine, “she told me she loved me.”

“Oh my boy” Said Dís reaching a hand out to grasp his arm “I’m so happy she returns you feelings, but this is, it’s not too late to call it all of you know? To go back to her?”

“No. It’s okay Mum. She understands and accepts that we probably won’t be able to see each other again. She’s coming to the ball though” he said, sounding more excited for the dance then he had ever before “I wish you could meet her mother, she’s amazing. I’m sure you’ll love her as much as I do!”

“I’m sure I will Little Lion, I’m sure I will.”

“But yeah, one last night together in public, getting to be Fee one last time and then,” he gulped slightly “I’ll put it away for good and marry Dagní.”

“I hope you and Sigrid have the best night of your lives then.” Said Dís, turning him to face her so as she could rest their foreheads together.

“‘ama akhmân.”

“Anything for you madtithbirzulê”

“By the way, what was Uncle shouting about when I left this morning?”

“Oh. Nothing major, he’s just being a bit of a Drama King. I simply did as you said Fíli, and invited some of the people from the Shire. He seems a bit upset by it all. Can’t imagine why.” She winked, leaving the room.

Fíli shook his head in amused disbelief. Was there anything his mother wouldn't do to seek revenge?

*

That morning, a letter from the castle arrived at the farmhouse inviting the entire household to attend the ball. Thranduil and Legolas were all a twitter about it, excited to finally get to see inside and wondering what it would be like. Even Tauriel seemed to be looking forward to the dance, already musing on what costume she’d pick.

“Well indeed!” Said Thranduil excitedly “We’ll have to make a decision. We will have to go and see Mrs Haq as soon as possible, she’ll no doubt be inundated with orders by now.”

“What would you like to go as Sigrid?” Asked Tauriel

“What?” Said Legolas putting down the invitation he’d been excitedly re-reading to convince himself that all this was really happening “You cannot expect her to go! She’s a servant! What would it look like if we turned up with a servant think about it Father. We’d never live it down.”

“Sigrid is still part of this household, brother, and she is your stepsister. Do not forget it again.” Said Tauriel, sternly

“Yes but nobody knows that! As far as everyone is concerned she’s our servant who does all our hard labour and sleeps amongst the ashes at night.”

“Enough the pair of you.” Said Thranduil, silencing them both. “The invitation clearly states that the whole household is invited.” He sounded slightly bitter about it. “Sigrid is, after all, part of our family. She deserves to go- even if her recent behaviour is in no way something that needs rewarding.” He glared at her.

“Father, you cannot be serious!” Said Legolas, appalled “The royal family will be there! She has no manners, no etiquette, she’ll ruin our family name simply by association.”

“I said silence, Legolas! Or it will be you who will not be attending.”

Legolas shut up at that, though still stared daggers at Sigrid, as though this was all her idea in the first place.

“So you’ll let me attend with you?” Said Sigrid, hopefully

“So long as you complete all the tasks you’re set for the week, and find something suitable to wear, I don’t see how I can stop you.”

“Thank you Stepfather.” Smiled Sigrid. Even though she had her own invite, she’d no idea how she was going to get there, or what her family would do when they inevitably found out.

“Get along now girl.” He said, not meeting her eye. “You’ve a lot to do. You’ll need to get everything prepared for the ball. We’ve so little time left…”

“Yes, Stepfather. I’ll get on with everything right away.” Said Sigrid, running out the door to begin her work,

“You’re not really going to let her come with us, are you?” Asked Legolas, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course not.” Said Thranduil calmly, quiet so as Tauriel wouldn’t hear “but if it means she’ll stay out of the way and get more work done, then all’s the better for us.”

He and Legolas shared a smirk “Perhaps there’s some things you’ve been meaning to get done that just haven’t been completed yet?”

“Why yes Father, I do believe you’re correct.”

“What are you two scheming about?” Asked Tauriel

“Nothing, Sister Dear.” Said Legolas brightly “We are simply making plans for the ball. Do you suspect we’ll meet the princes?”

“I suppose so, it is for His Highness’ birthday after all.”

“I heard a rumour from Mrs Saito that the Prince will be introducing his wife at the party.” Said Legolas conspiratorially “However, Mr Lewis swears he saw him walking with a young woman of the Commonfolk just last week.”

“Why would you think this of importance to me?”

“Well, I just thought that you might not want to get your hopes up. I seem to remember you used to be quite sweet on the prince when you were younger.”

“I was fourteen!” Said Tauriel indignantly. “And that was the Prince back in Mirkwood, an Eldar prince. I don’t go for Clansman.”

“You are to stay away from those royals!” Said Thranduil, sternly “I plan to use this as a networking opportunity to gain new interest in our business. I do not need any princes hanging around. I will need you both on your best behaviour.”

“Yes, father.” They chorused

“As for costumes, something to remind them of who we are… Yes. I’ve an idea. Come. To Mrs Haq’s we must go.” He said, grabbing his cloak and walking stick from the door.

“What about Sigrid?” Said Tauriel, “Won’t she need a costume as well?”

“Sigrid can sort out something for herself.” Said Thranduil carelessly “Come, let us depart.”

Tauriel looked back towards the stairs that lead to the kitchen. Why did she have the sinking feeling that Sigrid wasn’t going to be attending the ball after all…

*

 Thorin was pacing his office. He could not believe that Dís had gone this far! She knew they’d send him as their representative. The blasted woman probably request him specifically. For here, at last, upon his table was a letter written in that oh so familiar script, that Ambassador Baggins would be attending the ball on behalf of his people, accompanied by his nephew, Frodo Baggins alongside the eldest sons of King Paladin II and Lord Brandybuck.

Thorin hadn’t seen Bilbo since he had banished him from the kingdom, Bilbo leaving him the acorn that he still cherished as a reminder of him. That was nearly eighteen years ago now and he’d long since repealed his banishment, however Bilbo had never sent him any other form of communication until now. What, perhaps, had changed?

Thorin sat back down in his chair again. What had Dís meant by inviting him? Was it all just part of some revenge scheme for what he had done to Fíli, or was there something else behind it all? He looked at the portrait of his family that hung on the wall in front of the desk where he could always see it. It had been painted shortly before Víli had passed away, and depicted him sitting in his wheelchair at the front, a four year old Kíli sitting on his lap and an eight year old Fíli standing next to him, Dís, Frerin and himself arranged neatly behind. They all looked so happy back then, a proper family, able to work past the war that was threatening them from all around and enjoy the simple pleasure of being together.

Víli’s sudden death had taken them all by surprise, and Frerin’s had almost broken Thorin completely. It was only his nephews and Dís that kept him from falling apart and turning completely inside on himself, yet here he was, breaking Fíli’s heart for the sake of politics.

Marriages were contracts. He’d known this. His mother and father had not married for love but rather to secure the bond between the different fractions of the Longbeard clan and in doing so bought peace amongst their people. Dís’ marriage to Víli had lead to them gaining rights to house refugees in the Blue Mountains, meaning that families did not have to be split up. Both marriages had been initially arranged for political purposes and love had blossomed from there.

He convinced himself the same would occur with Fíli and Dagní. He’d been put on the spot somewhat when Lady Unna had suggested the match after Fíli’s display with his raven- but knew that he could not deny her her request.

He should have though, Thorin berated himself. He should have just told her that Fíli was too young to be married just yet, or that he would have to meet Dagní first. But no, Thorin had just barrelled in and agreed to it without even consulting Fíli just because the offer sounded just too good to turn down.

But it was a good offer. Fíli was right, many lives would be altered for the better if the Blacklocks would just open themselves up more to the rest of the clans. It may even strengthen their relations with the Firebeards, the clan Víli had been a member of prior to his marriage, and whose constant grievances over long gone events clogged up every meeting they ever shared.

Yet Dís, too, had been correct. Fíli had never looked as happy as he had these last few days, not since he was a little boy running down the corridors with Kíli as their father chased after them in his wheelchair with Frerin pushing. Fíli’s smiles were infectious and the whole castle seemed happier than it had done in years.

Now, however, despite the brightly coloured decorations that were being put up everywhere in preparation for the Masquerade, the castle looked as sombre and as gloomy as ever it had.

“Oh Naddadê.” He sighed, looking at the portrait on the wall. “What have I done to our sweet, young tablithbirzul.”

*

Sigrid should have known better than to think Thranduil would just simply let her go to the ball. He and Legolas were calling on her more than ever, and she was certain some of the rips in the shirts she was sewing were put there on purpose. But she had no other choice. She’d simply have to try and handle things the best she could.

Tauriel had offered to help her on several occasions, but Sigrid soon discovered that she did not have any talent for household crafts, and was actually causing more problems than she was solving.

“I hope one day you find a spouse who can do all these things for you.” Said Sigrid, extracting the shirt from Tauriel’s grip before she made the stain any worse.

“Well at least for now I have you to take care of me.” She smiled “Is there not something I can do to help? Your costume perhaps? Is there anything you need for it?”

“No.” Said Sigrid, thinking back to her room where the old dressmakers dummy stood “I’ve found a dress I can alter. I completely forgot I had it, but I found it when looking in an old trunk. It was my mothers.” She smiled to herself “It’s pink, so I was thinking of going as a dryad?”

“Sounds wonderful.” Smiled Tauriel “Thranduil has decided that Legolas and I should go as woodland spirits as well, so we’ll match.”

“Why woodland spirits?” asked Sigrid, arching an eyebrow

“Well, Legolas will be Hanuion – spirit of the animals, and I will be Roimëiel – spirit of the hunters. They’re from the tales we grew up on back in Mirkwood.”

“Do you miss it?” Asked Sigrid

“Mirkwood?” Sigrid nodded. Tauriel thought carefully on the question. “I miss the way it was before the war, when there was peace and tranquillity amongst everything. I miss being able to sneak out of the house and walk along the treetops to stare up at the stars. Lòrien wood is beautiful, but it will never compare with the Greenwood in my opinion. However,” she added, “I am glad that I met you, Sister.”

“Thank you, Tauriel.” Said Sigrid, looking up at her and starting to see the Older Sister she’d always hoped she’d have “Promise me something,”

“Yes?”

“No matter what happens,” she indicated at the piles of clothes around her “go to the ball still. Someone called Fee will be there” she said quietly “if I can’t go, tell him, tell him I want to be there but I can’t be. Tell him to dance with whoever he chooses, so long as he thinks on me at least a little, for I shall be thinking of him.”

“Is this about that boy you’ve been sneaking off to see?”

“What boy?” Said Sigrid in a panic “who told you about any boy?”

“You just did.” Smirked Tauriel, eyes glittering “Do not worry Sigrid, should you not be able to attend, I will find a way to pass on your message. Now, get back to work girl.” She said in an impression of Thranduil “Or you won’t be going to the ball!” she winked and left her to it.

Sigrid shook her head and gave out a huff of laughter. It had taken two years, but at last she seemed to be bonding with her Stepsister.

Oh well. She thought Better late than never.

Chapter Text

Time has a funny habit of speeding up and slowing down at the most inconvenient of moments. Sigrid’s work seemed to last forever and a minute of sewing felt like an hour, and yet an actual hour seemed to go by in the blink of an eye and it was One O’clock in the morning and she was still scrubbing stains.

She’d barely been able to find five minutes in her day to fix up her mother’s old dress but somehow whenever she came back to it, she discovered that more had been completed then she remembered. Equally her box of scraps with which to decorate it with always contained the exact thing she needed.

On the day before the ball, she stood back and admired her handiwork. It was not as beautiful or as well made as the costumes her stepfamily would be wearing, but it would certainly do well enough, and Fíli would like it, she was sure; and at the end of the day, it was only his opinion that she cared about.

She rubbed her eyes and gazed up at the Grandfather Clock as it struck two am.

“Not long now, my Prince. Not long now.” She murmured and settled herself down to sleep where she had been working, too exhausted to make it over to her bed.

*

It was the afternoon before the ball, and guests had been trickling into the castle all day. He’d met with more cousins than he remembered ever having, each of them claiming to remember a time when they’d done something or other together and oh-my-haven’t-you-grown-up-so-well.

The only relative he was pleased to see was Lord Gimli. Gimli was between the ages of the two royal brothers and so the three of them had spent many summers holidaying together when they were younger. Gimli had inherited his title very young and so had always understood the pressure Fíli felt himself under. He was also not one for courtly manners.

“Al’ right durh’atam.” Said Gimli, coming over to embrace him “Long time, no see.”

“The same to you khagrshâlm jabl.” Laughed Fíli, banging foreheads with him merrily “How has life been treating you, Lord of the Glittering Caves?”

Gimli shuddered, “Can we not talk about that? I’ve already caused two inter-clan crises’ and I don’t want to cause another.”

“Yeah, I heard about that! What were you thinking calling the Stiffbeards- what was it again?”

“A clan of beardless cowards with more muscles than brains” Said Gimli, nodding to himself “Not my finest moment of diplomacy.” he mused “Not my worse though.”

“Ins Mahal taglibi luknu.” Laughed Fee “Come, let’s get Kíli and we can all pretend like we are eight again and we don’t have any responsibilities.”

“What’s this I hear about you and Lady Dagní getting hitched?” said Gimli, “I hear she’s quite the beauty.” He said waggling his eyebrows

Fíli groaned “Is everyone already talking about that?”

“Well, it’s why we’re all here, ain’t we?”

“I thought you were all here to celebrate my birthday?” said Fíli, dryly

“Ha! That’s just an excuse. We’re just all gossips who want to know why ya’ let ya’self get into a marriage with a woman ya never met.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” he sighed, “Come on, let’s go find my brother and we can continue not to talk about it then.”

“As good as all that then? I think we’ll be needing a couple of pints of ale by the sound of it. You know what they say, Khashâm gangagifôn ‘uglakhul ya zull mi binzull.”

“I’m meeting with Dagní and her mother later today, I don’t think I they, or Thorin, would be all that impressed if I turn up drunk.”

“You know what else they say?” Said Gimli smirking “Mahinrid khuzd tada ma tashliki.”

Fíli rolled his eyes. “Okay. Just one, and I mean just one.”

“To the kitchens then!” Said Gimli and the pair of them sped off, laughing as they did when they were still young.

*

“It’s just so not fair!” cried Kíli flopping back onto the bed of grass. The three of them had taken a flask of ale each and snuck out to the castle gardens to drink as they’d done when Kíli was thirteen. “She’s not even his Marlûno.” He threw his hands up in the air “Thorin wants him to marry someone who isn’t his Marlûno, and he’s agreeing to do it!”

“You know why I am Kee!” Said Fíli, frustrated “I’ve told you, ‘s for the good of the Kingdom. People will benefit and be happy”

“and bla bla bla noble and just things. You are Khezdarel! Congratulations!” Said Kíli,

“You sound just like Mum.” Fíli huffed

“That’s a good thing.” Said Kíli “Mum’s the cool one. You’re sounding like Uncle Throin, who is bintah.”

“Ya don’t know she’s not ya Marlûno.” Said Gimli, reasonably, always better at holding his ale than Kíli

“He does!” said Kíli sitting up, “He so, so does.” He gave Gimli an intense look.

“Bâ aktub?” Gimli turned to look at Fíli with pure glee

“That’s it. I’m leaving.” Said Fíli

“No, no, Laddie, come back! Tell me about them.”

“No. I’m going. I told you, I don’t want to talk about it. I’m going to go and greet Dagní, kal’yasathê.” He groaned

“Poor sod.” Said Gimli “Wouldn’t want’a be in his shoes.”

“Nope.” Said Kíli with a sigh “Neither does he.”

“So tell me about this Marlûno of his!” said Gimli, grinning

“With pleasure, shaktûn! But you’ve got to keep it a secret, yeah?”

“You have my word as Lord of the Glittering Caves.” He said, bowing

*

Fíli went back to his room to get changed out of his day clothes and into something more respectable. He hated wearing his formal clothes as he was far more comfortable in a simple loose-fitting tunic and trousers, but alas, protocol required him to wear this stupid get up with its tiny buttons and stupid tassels on his shoulders and stupid white gloves that made him look like such a ponce. The shear amount of gold chains that hung from it was enough to pull him to the ground, but, it was all part of the job, chains and all.

He joined his uncle in the main hall, and saw that Thorin was also pulling at his collar.

“I’ve never enjoyed the get ups we have to wear.” Sighed Thorin, readjusting his jacket. “I’m sure it wasn't this tight last time I wore it.” he said with a frown

“It’s all that sitting down you do,” said Fíli “You used to come out and run around with us, but now you don’t. You’ve grown soft around the middle.”

“Not soft enough yet, Fíli. If ever you want to challenge me to sword fight, you are welcome to try.” His eyes twinkled

“You haven’t offered to spar with me since, well. Since I can’t remember.” Said Fíli, creasing his brow

“Well. If ever you want to, the offer is there. It was always there, you just never asked.” Said Thorin briskly

Fíli opened his mouth to reply when a great fanfare began and he doors opened.

“Lady Unna, chief of clan Blacklock, her husband Lord Dufin of the Black Hills and their daughter, Lady Dangí.”

In stepped Lady Unna, looking as fierce as ever in a deep purple dress with flowing skirts, her bodice studded with onyx. Her husband looked equally as fierce, dressed more for battle than for a meeting of future in-laws. Then there was Lady Dangí.

Fíli hadn’t been entirely sure what to expect from his future bride. He didn’t care what she looked like, but he had hoped that there would be a kindness about her presence. This was hard to tell past all her scowling. She was a thick set as the stories said, and it was clear that she could easily pick him up and throw him over the other side of the castle if she so wished. Fíli dearly hoped that she had no desire to do so, though her grimace at the sight of him indicated that she was considering doing it right now.

Fíli and Thorin exchanged glances. Well, this would be fun.

“Lady Unna, Lord Dufin, Lady Dangí” said Thorin, bowing to each of them in turn “Erebor du idmi.” He said extending his arms in greeting. “May I introduce my heir, Prince Fíli.”

“Shamukh” he said bowing in turn “Zûr menu?”

“Well enough, Prince Fíli. It is so much warmer in Erebor though, how can you stand it? You will have to sort out some way of cooling it down for when my Dangí moves in.”

“’Amad!” hissed Dangí “Not now.”

“Well I don’t see why not! You’ve agreed to marry him, he’s agreed to marry you, what more is there to say?”

“Much I’m sure, My Lord Dufin.” Said Thorin, putting on his best court manners.

“Where’s Lady Dís?” asked Lord Dufin “I have business that needs discussing. She’s yet to reply to my request about what powers she’ll be granting Dagní.”

“Well, it’ll be my brother inheriting the title of Lord of the Blue Mountains, so I don’t see why…” began Fíli so but Lord Dufin put a hand up to silence him.

“I don’t care who’s inheriting what title, but if my girl is to marry a Firebeard then she’d better get something out of it.”

“‘Adad! Can we please not do this now.” Moaned Dangí “We just bloody got here.”

“But mesemith, we have to discuss these things anyway. We’re practically family already, we should be able to discuss these things openly.”

“But we ain’t. Me and Prince Fíli here have only just been introduced, at least let us have a conversation before you start insulting his dad’s clan.”

Fíli exchanged a thankful look with Dangí and she gave him a curt nod.

“Why don’t the young ones spend some time together, get to know one another?” Thorin suggested.

“Yes. Great idea Your Majesty, why doesn’t Prince Fíli show me around the castle?”

“Yes. Of course, I would be delighted to Lady Dangí.” He stepped forward to take her arm in his but she ignored it and stomped out of the room, ignoring her parents calls after her.

“Urgh. I hate those two sometimes.” Growled Dangí as they stepped around the corner and out of sight.

“Oh I’m sure they’re not all that bad.” Said Fíli smiling weakly “I mean, it’s a big day, introducing their daughter to her betrothed…”

“That was them being polite.” She said rolling her eyes “Right then Skinny Boy” she said briskly “let's get a few things straight here before we go any further.”

“Okay?”

“I am only entering into this marriage because it will help out my people. We need trade, we need support and we need someone to help me stop this feud with the Firebeards because it’s fucking up so many people’s lives.”

“Pretty much the same reasons I’m going into this.” Said Fee, nodding

“Secondly, I do not love you. I will never love you, I will not be calling you by any shitty little pet names, so you better not be calling me ‘Ghivashel’ or ‘ibinuth’ or ‘mudutû abanu’ or any of that lovey-dovey crap, yeah?”

“Heart of stone, really? You class that as lovey-dovey?”

“It’s what Dad calls Mum. It’s sickening.”

“Well, I promise you I won’t call you any of those things.” He said raising an eyebrow “Anything else?”

“No kissing, not in private, not in public. I know these pretty boy golden locks might work on some of the lasses down in the villages, and the maids of court might like your title, but it doesn’t impress me much.”

“Thank you for the confidence builder.” Said Fíli dryly “I have no desires to kiss you either.”

“Excellent. We can talk about kids nearer the time.” Said Dangí, casually “I’ve never felt particularly maternal”

“No kidding?”

“but I know you royals are under pressure to reproduce and all that.”

Fíli grew a little pale at that. He hadn’t considered that aspect of a marriage just yet. “Okay. Um, moving on from that, is there anywhere you’d like to go?”

“You got a training ground here? I’ve not had a fight in ages and I’m gagging for one.”

“We do, but it’s closed off at the moment, everyone’s preparing for the Ball you see…”

“Shame.” She sighed

“Though, fighting,” said Fíli, trying to find some common ground apart from their mutual distaste for one another “Axe or Sword?”

“Axe. Tarâgbark to be precise. Yourself?”

“Sword. Same as King Thorin. I prefer to use two though, allows for that extra side swing.”

“Zagâr.” she tutted “Hardly any beard on you, you look like you weight nothing more than a feather and you voluntarily choose sword over axe – are you sure you’re a Clansman?”

“Since the day I was born. Could be worse, you could be marrying my brother. He’s an archer.”

Dangí stopped in her tracks with a look of disbelief on her face “Are all your family weirdoes?”

“Only the men.” He laughed “Mother is as hairy and as muscular as yourself, and the finest Barkûna the clans have ever seen.” He added proudly

“Maybe I should just marry your mother.” Joked Dangí

“Now there’s a horrifying thought.” He muttered under his breath as he continued to show her around the castle.

*

The morning of the Ball, Sigrid rose early and tried her hardest to finish off everything she had left to do. There was still so much more work and Thranduil and Legolas just kept on piling it on top of her!

Eventually though, mere minutes before they were all planning to leave, Sigrid found herself finished. She quickly put on her dress, which she’d decorated with pressed flowers from the garden and tied her mask around her head with the long pink ribbon she’d attached. She took a quick look in the mirror.

“Not quite a Dryad but hopefully fit enough for a prince.” She smiled. She had no other shoes save her simple slip on dollies, but she’d decorated them with some of the left over flowers, and hopefully nobody would look too closely at them and see that they were scuffed and stained with two years worth of mud and dust.

“Sigrid, we’re leaving now,” said Tauriel, rushing down the stairs “Come quickly –oh.” She smiled “Well don’t you look beautiful. Stepfather would have been proud of you; you’ve done such a wonderful job! Did you press these yourself?” she said, gently touching the flowers on her shoulder

“Yes, it took a while. I used the large Atlas from the living room, I hope Thranduil won’t mind.”

“What he doesn’t know, can’t hurt him.” She smiled, “Come, let us make the boys jealous and show how their plans have failed.”

“Tauriel! Hurry child or we’ll be late!” shouted her Father “Oh.” He said, catching a glimpse of Sigrid. “I see you’ve finished your tasks then”

“Yes Stepfather.”

“And you’ve even found something to wear.”

“You look very fine, Sigrid.” Said Legolas, a hint of envy in his voice.

“Why yes, yes you do. But I say, aren’t those flowers the same from our garden?”

“Yes Stepfather…” said Sigird carefully taking a cautious step backwards

“Theft! From my own garden! I cannot believe this of you Sigrid! Ungrateful Child!” he said, reaching forward and ripping them from her dress in one big snatch of his hands.

“What!” Cried Legolas, looking at where the flowers had scattered “That’s my sash you’ve got around your waist! Give that back!” he cried, ripping it from her body

“And those sleeves look familiar too, aren’t they yours Tauriel?” he asked looking at her expectantly

“No stepfather. They’re not.” She glared back at him

“I think they are, Tauriel, I think you should take them back.”

“Please Father, enough. Leave her alone.” Growled Tauriel, looking at Sigrid who was shaking in the ruined remains of her dress, the flowers scattered around her like broken glass.

“Take. The. Sleeves.” He hissed, raising his cane slightly.

She’d made the sleeves from the fabric in her scrap box which had happened to also have been used to repair Tauriel’s dress not long before, but of course Thranduil didn’t care about that. With all the strength she had left, Sigrid reached for the sleeves of her dress and ripped them off clean in one sweeping motion. She threw them onto the floor in front of Thranduil.

“Smart girl.” Smirked Thranduil “Time to lock up.” He said proudly. “Legolas, Tauriel, get in the coach. I will do lock up myself. Don’t want anything getting lost now, do we?” he said with a snake like grin

“No Stepfather.” Said Sigrid, she looked up at Tauriel who was being escorted out by Legolas

“I’ll do as you’ve told me. I promise.” Said Tauriel.

Sigrid watched with a dull sense of finality about things, as Thranduil systematically locked all the doors and windows, to ensure that she would find no way of escaping. All she’d wanted, was one chance to look beautiful and wear a dress and dance with the man she loved until morning- but in his spite and bitterness, Thranduil had denied her everything.

“Goodnight Sigrid, such a shame you weren’t able to come. But I’m afraid I can’t encourage thievery.” He smirked and slammed the front door in her face.

In situations such as this, one had two options. One could despair about their life, or one could try to make the best of things and find a solution. Sigrid was so tired of finding solutions. Exhausted by her constant efforts to make the best of things. She just didn’t have the energy left in her to be able to fight anymore.

Thranduil had prevented her from seeing Fíli one last time. He’d taken away her last crumb of real hope in the world. With the despair of a child, Sigrid collapsed onto the floor and cried, great heaving sobs that left her breathless and ill. She cried until her eyes were red and her face puffy. She cried until she felt as though there were no more tears left inside of her to cry, only to find herself sobbing still. She sat there on the floor, curled into a ball and whispered out her final plea

“Fairy Godmother, please. If you ever cared, if you ever watched out for me. Please.” She hiccoughed “please help me go to the Ball.”

“Well my young Lady of Dale,” said a friendly voice from behind her “I do believe that you shall go to the Ball!”

Chapter Text

If Sigrid had had any breath left in her, she would have screamed. Instead she went for the option of scrambling to her feet in order to place the kitchen table between her and the man as quickly as she was able before picking up the nearest blunt instrument with which to defend herself with.

“How did you get in here!” She said, eyes wide “The doors were locked who are you, why are you here?”

“Well you called.” Smiled the old man “It’s awfully rude to threaten people you’ve invited with a kitchen whisk now, isn’t it?”

“I, I invited you?” She spluttered

“Yes. You distinctly asked for your Fairy Godmother to come and rescue you, and here I am!” He said spreading his arms wise.

“You’re…. but you’re not real? You were just a family friend taking the mick!”

“I am a family friend indeed, but I assure you, I was being very much serious when I said I would keep an eye out for you.”

“But. But you never came!” She said, her voice hitching slightly “I called for you hundreds of times and you never came! When Mum died, when Bain was sick, when he, when they, the fire…” She wiped the tears from her face now, anger starting to win out again “You never did anything! You never cared, why didn’t you help me then, when I really needed you?”

“Sigrid.” Said the man, coming closer, his clear blue eyes wide and kind, a comforting smile on his face “I was not able to. There are rules, strict laws the Istari must follow. I tried to help you but there is only so much one wizard can do. I kept my promise though, I have looked out for you.”

“No you haven’t!” Said Sigrid, gesturing around the kitchen “Have you seen the way I live? A servant in my own home! Nobody who cares for me, or does anything for me- I never get a break or a rest or, or anything that would indicate that you’ve ever given a shit- sorry a, a thing about me.” She said, putting her whisk down at last.

“Have you ever had to want for something?” Said Gandalf his raising his eyebrows “Have you ever had a stain not be removed? Have you ever found yourself short of food? Have you ever begun to cook and not has the exact ingredients you needed? Have you ever gone to bed truly hungry or found yourself expelled from your home?”

“Well. No.” Said Sigrid reasonably, “but it doesn’t mean that I haven’t been beaten and trodden on and treated like I don’t matter.”

“Alas, the people you’ve been forced to live with… But still. Perhaps I can make up for all my apparent failings now?”

“What? By getting me a nice dress so as I can go to a party? Yes, that’ll make up for 12 years of neglect.” She said rolling her eyes

“Just a minute ago you were begging to go.” Smirked Gandalf “If you would rather not go now then I can always go and find someone else who would like to.”

“No!” Said Sigrid, coming around the table now to grasp him by the arms “No, please don’t go. I want to go to the Ball. Please, just- one more night with Fee, that’s all I want. One more night to remember him by and then…” She looked round the kitchen forlornly “back to this…”

“Well then, my child” said Gandalf clasping her hands gently in his. “We shall have to make it the best night you have ever had.”

Sigrid smiled warmly at him, thankful for what he was offering. She didn’t resent him, not really. But sometimes one needed to lash out, and absent magical Godparents were sometimes the perfect target.

“Right then, what shall we need?” Said the wizard, looking about “Ah yes, my staff.” He began digging around in his large grey robes, pulling out various strange objects.

“No, those aren’t it.” He said, putting three large gems onto the table that shone like pure starlight. “Not that.” He placed a beautifully carved silver ring next to them “Or that, ha. I’d been wondering where that had got to.” He said, examining a plain gold ring “Should probably do something about that.” He frowned and put it down next to the other objects “Not that, not those, oh come on it must be in here somewhere. Oh!” He said, pulling out a large pipe and some tobacco. “Hmmmm,” he said, absentmindedly stuffing the pipe with the tobacco “Where could I have put the damn thing. Ah! That’s right! I had it when I came in.” He smiled, lighting the pipe and going to the door to pick up a large wooden staff that Sigrid had sworn had not been there a moment ago.

“Here.” Said Gandalf, handing the lit pipe to Sigrid “Old Toby. Good for the nerves.”

Sigrid took the pipe cautiously and took a short puff on it. She’d never really liked pipe weed, but this stuff was sweet and earthy and instantly relaxed her. The stress of the past hour disappeared from within, leaving her with the same bubble of excitement she’d had before everything had crashed around her.

“So.” Said Gandalf briskly “Next thing would be to get you out of here. Easily enough done.” He smiled and walked over to the locked door, prodded it with his staff, and swung it open. Sigrid gazed wide-eyed at him, following him out the door and into the coolness of the night.

“Now, what will you need for this Ball.” He said, thinking carefully. “Transport would be good. I suppose, you could walk but why go all that way when you could fly?”

“Fly!” Said Sigrid in disbelief.

“Mmm-hmm.” He hummed, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Now, you’ll need somewhere to sit, a carriage of sorts. Ah!” He said, marching over to the vegetable patch. “Perfect!” He exclaimed, indicating a pumpkin sitting in the middle of the patch

“A pumpkin?” Said Sigrid in disbelief “You’re going to make me fly using that pumpkin?”

“Don’t be ridiculous” said Gandalf sternly “Of course not. Not when its this size.” He stamped his staff upon the ground at the pumpkin began to grow and grow and grow. Sigrid watched in amazement, soon it was big enough to fill the kitchen and yet it still grew!

“That is probably about right.” Said Gandalf, tapping his staff upon the ground, gentler this time. “Now for some readjustments.” He furrowed his brow and muttered some spells under his breath and soon enough, the pumpkin changed into an elegant gleaming white carriage. The pumpkin shape was still recognisable, yet the lines and ridges of the pumpkin were covered in gold, and the vines had become the harness for the horse, still maintaining the small leaves that decorated it. The top of the carriage was encrusted with a variety of elegant gems that made it sparkle in the moonlight.

“It’s beautiful.” Breathed Sigrid, stepping towards it reverently. She tentatively reached out to touch it, it still had the texture of a pumpkin somehow but yet still had the coldness of metal. “Is it real?” She couldn’t help but ask, turning back towards her Godmother

“Is it real?” Said Gandalf laughing derisively “Of course it’s real! Did you not just see me take one of your very own pumpkins and make it larger and whiter?”

“I love magic.” Whispered Sigrid, gazing at in in wonder

Gandalf chuckled and began to look around him once more. “You’ll be needing some noble steeds to get you there, now, where were those fellows from earlier, ah!” Gandalf whistled lowly, a call for aid in the bird tongue.

Four songbirds landed before him, heads cocked to the side.

“Now my friends.” Smiled Gandalf “I need you to do the Lady of Dale a favour and pull her carriage for her for tonight. The birds chirped and whistled in confusion, claiming that they were far too small to carry a carriage; that they were happy to help Girion’s heir, but perhaps they could just serenade her or fetch her snacks instead?

“Do not worry my friends. I can assure you, that you will be big enough for what I have planned for you.” Gandalf stamped his staff upon the floor once more, and Sigrid felt a ripple of power spread across the garden. Just as the pumpkin had done, the four birds began to grow, their muscles getting stronger, their beaks more hawklike and their small toes turning into talons. Whilst before there had stood four songbirds, there now stood four mighty eagles the size of horses.

The birds squawked in confusion and whistled to one another- it was a very strange sight, seeing these gigantic eagles singing and trilling rather than cawing.

“Do not fear, it shall only last a night.” Said Gandalf, “Now, pop over to the harness and we’ll get you all sorted.” The eagles hopped over and Gandalf had them all saddled up.

“And I suppose you’ll be needing a driver, they may be eagles in looks but they are there are still only feathers in their brains. They’ll need someone with some wits about them to tell them where to go. Yes!” Said Gandalf triumphantly “You’ll do nicely!” Sigrid looked where he was pointing and spotted a raven sitting on the fence. She hadn’t seen them in the darkness of the evening, but could see them more clearly now that Gandalf had pointed them out to her.

The raven flew over and landed on top of the carriage. It surveyed Gandalf with a keen eye.  

“Rek?” Said Sigrid in amazement “Is that you, did Fíli send you?”

The Raven looked at her and shook her head from side to side, clicking her beak slightly.

“She says the Prince did not send her, but she wanted to see if you were okay. She feared that your family would not let you go to the Ball.”

“That is very kind of you, Rek.” Smiled Sigird. The bird nodded her head and bobbed up and down. She turned to stare at Gandalf, snapping her beak and scratching her foot along the top of the carriage as if to tell him to just get on with it. Gandalf chuckled and with a touch of his staff, Rek began to grow, her body became more elongated, her wings turned to arms and the next thing Sigrid knew, her Raven friend had turned into a beautiful dark skinned woman in a black suit that shone like her feathers did. She had a sharp beak like nose, and deep black eyes. She held herself with such poise and elegance that it took Sigrid’s breath away.

“Pleasure to speak to you at last, she who has stolen the Prince’s heart.” Smiled the woman, her voice rich and deep.

“And you too, Rek.” Sigrid said laughing. It was completely surreal to see the familiar bird suddenly transform into a woman, fingers and thumbs and all! She shook her head in amazement

“You’re a very useful person have around, Godmother.” Said Sigrid

“I do my best, child. Now.” He said thoughtfully “What else? Ah! A footman!” He searched around the garden and grabbed at a passing moth. He whispered to it and soon enough Gandalf worked his magic again and there stood what appeared to be a man, soft in his features with fine fluffy brown hair, light brown skin wearing a suit with the same delicate patterns that had been on the moth’s wings

“My lady.” Said the moth, bowing to her

“Sir Moth.” She said bobbing to him, unable to suppress her giggling at the whole situation.

“That should be everything then.” Said Gandalf hurrying her onto the coach

 “But Godmother,”

“No need to thank me my child, just doing my duty, come now or you’ll be later than you already are!”

“Yes, but I think you’ve”

“I’ve done enough to warrant your gratitude, think nothing of it!”

“Mithrandir.” Called a gentle female voice from behind them. It was the same voice Sigrid and heard in the woods. She looked up and saw a beautiful woman, with pale skin and golden hair that came down in waves along her back. She wore a simple white dress with lace sleeves, which shone like starlight in the night. There was a gentleness about her, her eyes warm and kind, her smiles wide and affectionate as a Grandmother’s. However one could not help but feel awed and wary at the sheer power that emanated from her, magic running deep through every fibre of her being.

“I believe that Lady Sigrid is trying to tell you that she still requires a costume.”

“A costume? But she’s already wearing one oh.” He said looking at her wrecked dress, the sleeves torn off and the mud now trodden into the hem. She no longer resembled a dryad in any form, save for one bought low by the cruel nature of humanity. “Oh well that won’t do at all.” He scoffed raising his staff once more.

“Mithrandir, Mellon” Said the woman quickly “perhaps allow me? Come child.” She said holding out her hand “Do not be afraid. I am Galadriel of the White Council. I work alongside your Godmother.”

“I’ve heard your voice before.” Said Sigrid, stepping out from the carriage and moving towards her carefully “In Lórien Wood.”

“Lórien Wood is where I live most of my days. My husband is Lord there, I believe you’ve met him? And my granddaughter too.” She smiled “I have heard many good things about you, Sigrid of Dale, and I think it is high time that something good happened to you.” She patted her hand.

Trust in me when I tell you, that you do not want Mithrandir making you your dress, have you seen the way he dresses himself? Istari have very little fashion sense.

Sigrid giggled I think you are correct. He may have made me go as a sack of potatoes!

Galadriel laughed like soft chime of bells “So what would you like to be?”

“I don’t mind really,” she said thoughtfully “but I would like to be something that would amaze Fee. Make him never forget me.”

“That has already been achieved, I can assure you.” Said the Lady of Lórien “But I can certainly give you a dress that will make sure nobody will ever forget who you are. You, Sigrid, shall be the Belle of the Ball.”

Galadriel raised her hand on which resided a beautiful silver ring. She gave a flick of her wrist and soon Sigrid was stumbling back as a rush of wind surrounded her, feathers flew about her as sparks of light rained down from above. She felt warmth and awe and hope fill her veins and when it all stopped she looked down excitedly to see her costume. She could not make out what she was meant to be, other than some kind of bird.

“What am I?” She asked, her heart fluttering

“Look for yourself.” Smiled Galadriel and stepped aside. The side of the house had become a full-length mirror and Sigrid stared at her reflection, open-mouthed.

“A Song Thrush.” She whispered turning around.

“The symbol of the house of Girion.” Said Gandalf, impressed

The dress seemed to be made from feathers itself, tiny layers of fabric fluttering with every movement she made. The bodice exactly fitted to the counters of her body, the colour dusting from pale gold to creamy white with flecks of brown dotted about. The skirt followed along the same line but soon became fluttering shades of autumn leaves. She turned around and saw the back of the dress was in the same colour and style, piled high at the back before trailing downwards like a tail.

On her face was a simple eye mask that covered the top of her nose as well, there was no ribbon to hold it on, and instead it fitted perfectly to her face as though glued to it. However, Sigrid found she was perfectly able to take it off and on with ease. The mask pointed upwards slightly to the side and was make of the same fluttering feather like material, gold at the top and in the centre and autumn brown at the sides.

“I look beautiful.” She said in an awed voice

“You are always beautiful.” Said Gandalf coming behind her and placing a hand on her shoulder “But tonight you shall show it off for all the world to see. Although a few more touches are needed, if you’ll excuse me, my ladies.”

He stamped his staff upon the ground and wings seemed to spring from her back. Sigrid gazed at them in awe, they moved perfectly to her every shoulder movement and she found that she could even tuck them behind her with just a thought. She noticed that she could no longer feel the cold ground upon her feet, and lifted her skirts and gasped in amazement. She was wearing magnificent light pink slippers that seemed to be made of something like crystal or diamond, she wasn’t sure.

“Morganite. Better than glass anytime.” Smiled her Godmother “And much more comfortable.” He added “Now Sigrid! You must go. Run child! Find your Prince Charming and dance the night away! But be careful. The magic will run out at midnight and everything will turn back to its original form. It will also prevent those who wish you ill-will from recognising you, so you must be back before the last stroke of midnight or else risk detection.”

“I understand.” she said, breathless and still unable to stop looking at the beautiful dress.

“Go! Fly! Now!” Said Gandalf, shoving her towards the carriage.

“Thank you so much Fairy Godmother!” She said hugging him tight around the waist “I’ll never forget this night! And you too Lady Galadriel. How can I ever repay you?”

“By having the time of your life, my child.” She said, waving at her as Rek cracked the reins on the eagles and they dashed off into the air.

Sigrid stared down in amazement at the disappearing sight of Galadriel and Gandalf and down upon the town she’d known her whole life, revelling in how different everything looked, as though they were toys placed upon a map.

“Is this what you see every time, Rek?” She called out to the driver

“Yes.” She called back “It’s sad that humans can never enjoy it.”

“How can you ever land when you could gaze upon this always?” She breathed out

“It is hard. But if we are to get there, we need to rush.” She cracked the reins and urged the songbirds on and Sigrid let out a yell of excitement as the carriage moved faster than any horse she’d ever ridden.

If tonight was to be her only night of freedom, she could not have planned it better than this, flying through the air on her way to see the man she loved more than anything else alive in this world.

Chapter Text

As was tradition, Fíli and the rest of the Royal Family had spent the first hour of the ball greeting the various guests. Well, everyone except Kíli, who’d conveniently found some last minute tasks to take care of. Fíli didn’t mind doing it as much. He enjoyed seeing his friends from Lórien again, plus the looks of complete joy and excitement on the faces of the townspeople were something to relish. Their costumes may not have been as grand as some of the nobles, but they certainly seemed to be having a far better time than any of them put together.

Lady Unna and her husband had originally hovered by Fíli’s shoulder for the start, but had wondered off back into the crowd after growing tired of hearing him welcoming people and conversing with them about such unimportant things as ‘livestock’, ‘knitting’ and ‘gardening’. One of the last parties to arrive was that of the Shire...

“Fíli!” cried Bilbo upon seeing him “My how you’ve grown let me take a look at you” he said, reaching up to hold Fíli’s shoulders, the man coming up barely past his chest “Why, you were barely three years old last time I saw you, and here you are, a proper man.” A broad smile spread across his face “You look so much like your father, may the Green lady guard his soul.”

“Bilbo.” Said Fíli fondly “It is so good to meet you properly at last. ‘Amad speaks of you highly.”

Bilbo chuckled lightly “I am happy to hear that some of you Durins still care for me.”

“We all do.” Said Fíli forcefully

“Ah, your uncle thinks otherwise I’m sure.” Said Bilbo, nervously rubbing his hands together and glancing at where Thorin stood a few paces over “I was surprised he allowed my invite to be sent, I know he repealed the banishment long ago but- no. Let us not talk of the past, not tonight.”

“Of course.” He smiled “But I can assure you, Thorin regrets his behaviour. He might not show it outwardly but”

“He has always been a gruff, surly, stubborn man with a hard exterior but the softest centre I have ever known.” Bilbo nodded wisely

“Tell me then Bilbo, what have you been up to these last eighteen years?”

Bilbo spoke excitedly about all the developments in the Shire, how their agricultural output was expanding and the new relationship they were enjoying with Rivendell.

“And that soil they’re supplying means that my tomatoes have never looked better!” he added excitedly “Ah!” he said, clapping his hand to his head “But where are my manners.” He ushered the other Shirefolk forward. The boys had been standing behind him, merrily chatting to each other about the music and the decorations that surrounded them. They seemed quite eager to break away from their guardian in order to go out and enjoy themselves, however the eldest boy seemed to be keeping the younger two in check.

“This is my nephew, Frodo, he’s just turned eighteen.”

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Said the boy, bowing, Fíli noting that he was dressed as an owl.

“And this is Lord Meriadoc, son of Lord Brandybuck of Buckland, he’s sixteen.”

“Please, call me Merry.” Said the boy, giving a deep bow.

“I see you’ve come as a horse, you’ll be matching Princess Éowyn then.” said Fíli pointing her out in the crowd. She spotted them and gave a merry wave.

“Princess Éowyn?” said Merry, excitedly “The Princess Éowyn? From Rohan! Shield Maiden and captain in the Riders? That Éowyn?” The boy looked at her, biting into his lip to stop himself from squealing.

“Merry has a bit of a crush on her.” Whispered Frodo, smiling fondly at his companion “He’s always wanted to one of the Riders, but his father won’t hear of it.”

“A pity,” said Fíli, “I’m sure you’d make a fine Rider or Rohan.”

“I would indeed, Your Highness, I would indeed!”

“And lastly” said Bilbo, slightly exasperatedly “we have Prince Peregrin, son of King Paladin the second and heir to the throne.”

The boy didn’t look round at first, too busy chattering away about the lights and the costumes and how hungry he was and when was dinner being served did anybody know? Merry gave him an elbow to the ribs, growing “Shut up Pip” as he inclined his head towards Fíli

“He’s fifteen and if I had my way I’d never have bought him, but the King insisted.” Sighed Bilbo

“Hey! Father says I’m old enough to come to these things!” said the boy indignantly “And Merry is only a year older than I am. I don’t get to see why I shouldn’t be allowed to come.” He huffed

Fíli gave the boy an amused chuckle “Quite right. I was the same when I was your age, although I think it was my brother who put up more of a fuss about it.”

“Your Highness.” Said Prince Peregrin, bowing flamboyantly “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, I have long awaited an invitation to visit Erebor and I wish you many happy returns on your birthday.”

“Thank you very much Prince Peregrin.” Said Fíli, an indulgent smile on his face “I look forward to one day visiting your kingdom as well.”

“Well of course you do.” Smiled the prince superciliously “The Shire has some of the best countryside in all of Arda, and absolutely nothing Erebor can produce could ever out do the taste and quality of our famous vegetables, ah, I mean” said the prince, looking frightened and ashamed at what he’d just said “I’m sure Erebor produces equally fine livestock and, and jewels and, um…” He said, trying to remember what else the nation produced.

Fíli just laughed, “I’d be careful of what you say, young prince, especially around my uncle. But yes, nobody could out do Erebor when it comes to metal work or manufacturing, not even the clans of the Orocarni and certainly not the Shire.”

Peregrin looked at though he was about to argue back, but thought better of it and simply gave another short bow. Bilbo rubbed at his eyes slightly and smiled weakly at Fíli. “Come along boys.” He said with the air of someone steeling themselves for the worse “Let us go and greet the King and Pippin-“ he said in a warning tone “do try and keep your mouth shut this time. You’ll find King Thorin far less forgiving.”

“Yes Mr Bilbo sir.” Said the Prince, looking down at his toes. Frodo and Merry exchanged smirks and the four of them moved on. Fíli looked over to the entrance to see who was left. He’d been hoping Sigrid would have arrived by now, but there was still no sign of her. The very last group of people were arriving now, a tall man with long blonde hair dressed as what he assumed was meant to be a tree spirit from the Eldar legends, although in his mind, the headdress he wore made him resemble more of an elk than anything else. Two others, whom Fíli took to be his children, accompanied him.

One was a young man with the same blonde hair and piercing blue eyes as his father. He wore a simple mask made from a soft light brown material that only covered his eyes and the bridge of his nose. His clothes were simple in design but made up of a pattern of various animal tracks; the pattern could of looked garish if it were not for the way it was layered and printed to fit perfectly with the shape and form of his body.

The other was a young woman who was as tall as the two men and carried herself with a grace that went somewhat against the aggressive look her costume was portraying. She had a black leather mask that covered her eyes, and make up that sharpened all her features causing her to look even more dangerously etherial. Her long auburn hair was scraped back into a high ponytail which swished behind her as she moved, looking almost whip like. She wore a short, tight fitted deer-hide tunic, which had no sleeves in order to show off the lean muscles on her arms. Her thick leggings also displayed slim yet muscular legs and her long boots helped to exaggerate the strength of her calves. She looked as though she knew how to kill a person in 568 different ways, and could shoot an arrow through a sparrow’s head at forty spaces. Her eyes were Forrest green and fierce as anything, however on seeing Fíli they seemed to shine with a surprising amount of kindness.

“Good evening, Your Highness.” Said the gentlemen, bowing “I am Thranduil Greenleaf, formerly of Mirkwood but now residing in Dale. These are my children, Legolas.” His son gave him a short bow in the style of the Eldar, where one hand was extended out in greeting. “And my foster daughter, Tauriel.” The woman bowed to him also.

“Mirkwood?” Said Fíli, glancing nervously over at Thorin who was too busy looking at Bilbo as though he was the first star to appear in the darkness of night to listen in of Fíli’s conversation “And what bought you to Dale, may I ask?”

“Marriage.” He said simply “It did not end well. He died shortly afterwards you see.” a look of deepest sorrow flittered across his face for a brief moment, before going back to his previous air of cold ambivalence.

“I am sorry for your loss then, Mr Greenleaf.” Said Fíli, reaching out to grasp his hand before thinking better of it. There was something about the man he could not help but distrust. Perhaps it was the natural distain his family had towards Mirkwood, but Fíli felt as though there was something more to it.

“Thank you, Sir” nodded the man “but I think we have used up enough of your time for now. I am sure you are eager to get on with your celebrations.” He bowed again “A pleasure to meet you. Come, Legolas, Tauriel.” He beckoned as he left without asking permission. Legolas followed obediently, though Tauriel hung back for a moment to whisper quickly to him

“Your Highness, forgive me for being so bold, but I am looking for someone named Fee, I’ve an important message to give to him from my stepsister, Sigrid. Do you perhaps know where I might find him?”

“Sigrid’s your stepsister!” Said Fíli, more loudly than he’d intended

“Yes,” said Tauriel, frowning slightly “Do you know her?”

“Yes! Yes I do! What’s the message? I’m erm, I’m good friends with Fee, I, I can relay the message.”

“I’m not sure that would be-”

“Tauriel.” Cried her Father, sternly “Come here now.”

Tauriel looked panicked for a moment and began to speak quickly “She said to tell him that she loves him and that-”

Thranduil came over to her and grabbed her by the arm, his fingers going white at the knuckle from gripping so hard.

“I am so sorry Sir.” Simmered Thranduil “She does not know her place. Come, child, I am sure there are plenty of other nice young men for you to talk to.”

Tauriel allowed herself to be pulled away, but she threw Fíli an apologetic look and mouthed that she would try to find him later on. Fíli nodded as he gazed after them.

So that was Sigrid’s family. He could see now what she meant about them, how could he let her continue to live with that man? How could he allow that kind of behaviour to continue? He’d have called them out on it there and then, if it were not for his fear of what might happen to Sigrid. Even with the powers granted him as Crowned Prince, he still didn’t have any solid evidence of what they were doing wrong.

If Sigrid had resorted to asking Tauriel to deliver a message, then perhaps she wasn’t able to come in the end, despite her promise of not letting anything stop her. With each passing moment of the clock, he began to become more and more dejected, and more and more certain that he had already seen the last of his khebabmudtu.

“Who was that vision of perfect beauty you were just talking to?” Asked Kíli coming over and staring wide eyed at Tauriel as she was whisked away by Thranduil.

“Who? Tauriel? And nice to see you finally back from the kitchens by the way.”

“Tauriel.” Sighed Kíli, as if the word were Mahal’s sweetest brew. “Even her name is beautiful. She cannot be human for sure, she must be a star descended from the skies to walk amongst us mere mortals

“Nadad, I think perhaps you’d be better off leaving it be.”

“Why should I?” Asked Kíli “You’ve got your Marlûno, why can't I have mine?”

“Well for one, she’s originally from Mirkwood and you know what they did to our people and Uncle’s feelings about that.” Kíli looked a little sheepish, he did know and had, in his childhood years, been quite vocal about his less than positive feelings towards the nation.

“And for the other, she looks like she would eat you alive.”

“She can eat me all she wants.” Smirked Kíli, earning a slap round the back of his head from Fíli

“Don’t be so crude! What ever happened to dignified and respectable?”

“Well one of us has to be the reckless renegade.” Kíli reasoned “And since you’re the romantic one giving up his hopes and his dreams, his very Marlûno so as his people may prosper, it looks like I’m going to have to pick up the mantle.”

“Mahal give me strength.” He murmured under his breath

“Where is Ghivashelmêzu anyway?” Asked Kíli looking around.

“She’s not here yet.” Said Fíli, dejectedly “I don’t think she’s coming at all.” He looked down at his toes and was too busy wrapped up in his own misery to notice that the music had stopped, and that everyone was staring at the entrance.

“You might want to rethink that brother.” Said Kíli, lifting his chin up and directing him towards the grand doorway.

Standing silhouetted against the moonlight stood one of the most beautiful and glorious sights that had ever befallen him. He felt his heart stop beating for a moment as time seemed to stand still for him as he gazed upon the ethereal creature that stood before them all. It was a young woman in a cream and autumn brown coloured gown who stood framed by the light of the candles. A pair of wings extended out from behind her back, making her look like an angelic bird that had come to grace them all with her song. Then everything came crashing backdown on him in a wave of sound. People were murmuring about who she was and why she was alone. Even though the musicians had started back, people still gazed upon the figure as she made her way down towards where the royal family stood.

“Sigrid.” Breathed Fíli as he gazed upon her as though she was the brightest star in the sky. For although her face was well disguised by her mask, there was no way he’d ever be able to mistake those stormy eyes as they scanned the room looking for him. Fíli made to run to greet her but was held back by his brother.

“Let her come to you.” He hissed in his ear “Royal protocol. The Blacklocks are looking. Don’t make them suspicious.”

Fíli’s fingers twitched and he felt as though his heart was going to explore as he waited for what felt like forever for Sigrid to finally make it down the steps and came up to greet him.

“Your Highness.” She curtsied, her wings folding along her back as she did so, earring a scattering of applause from the people still watching. “It is an honour to make your acquaintance at last.”

“As it is to make yours, my Lady.” He said bowing deeply to her “and do you have a name, or shall I simply call you Song Thrush?”

“Your highness may call me by any name he so wishes.” She smiled “so long as he allows me to call him by whatever I choose fit.”

“Which would be, my dazzling bird of the dawn chorus?”

“Charming for sure.” She smirked. Fíli loved the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled and the way they positively shone with mischief.

“So be it then.” He bowed again

Kíli gave a sharp cough “Are you not going to introduce us, brother?” He asked, grinning merrily

“Of course, where are my manners.” He said dryly

“My Lady, may I introduce His Royal Highness, Prince Kíli of Erebor, heir to the Blue Mountains, member of Clan Longbeard and my annoying little brother who once got himself stuck in the railings and had to be cut loose by the blacksmith.”

“A pleasure my Lady.” Kíli bowed, his chin almost touched the floor as he deliberately ignored his brother’s last statement. “May I?” He asked, indicating Sigrid’s hand. She giggled and gave it to him and he pressed a light kiss to the back of it, making Fíli grind his teeth.

“What happened to your Lady of Starlight?” He hissed

“I shall seek her out and win her heart as soon as I am done convincing this young lady before us that she is far too good for her current beau, and could do with setting her sights much higher.”

Sigrid laughed and tried to hide it behind her hand. Fíli just glared at Kíli who grinned back brightly.

“I’ll tell you what, Brother dear, why doesn’t this lovely young lady wonder off into the party, and perhaps her most unworthy dance partner might suddenly appear?”

Fíli rolled his eyes, and gave Sigrid a small smile “Be right back.” He winked and smartly began to weave his way through the crowd and out of sight.

“Where’s he going?” asked Sigrid, frowning

“Prince Fíli is leaving us for the evening, and I do not expect him to return until morning.” Smiled his brother, “Perhaps, you may wish to go in search of whatever young man you’re no doubt excited to see?” said Kíli, gesturing towards the mass of people.

Sigrid bobbed in a brief curtsey “It was a pleasure to meet you properly at long last, your highness.”

“I only wish I could know you better.” He smiled, patting her hand, “Now off you go, I think you’ll find some friends of yours in the crowd.” He winked, pointing in the direction where a horse, a bandit and a bull were laughing and joking together.

Sigrid hitched up her skirts slightly and went to investigate.

“Sigrid!” called the person dressed as a horse, waving her over.

“Éowyn!” she smiled, hugging her tightly “It’s so good to see you again! You look amazing. Hello Faramir.” She grinned taking in the bandit with his green hood and black eye mask, a quiver slung over his shoulder.

“I was wondering where you’d gotten to.” Smiled Faramir “We assumed you’d be standing with Fee when we arrived but you weren’t there so we were worried”

“and then we heard that he was soon to be engaged to that Blacklock girl and we couldn’t believe it!” Said Éowyn “When we heard from Boromir that Fee was the prince and you were, well, at least former nobility, we thought you’d still”

“end up together. You looked so happy.” Said Faramir, forlornly

“Yes. We are. We were. He.” Said Sigrid biting her lip. “Things can’t always work out the way we want them to.” She said simply, holding her head high “We can’t all be as lucky as you two.” She grinned, her eyes twinkling.

The pair of them blushed and stammered a bit, but Faramir reached out to grab Éowyn’s hand all the same, still amazed that this strong, powerful, intelligent and above all gentle woman wanted anything to do with him.

“Sigrid!” cried Boromir, barrelling over to them.

Sigrid was slightly startled by the sight of him. He was wearing a red, mid-thigh length short-sleeved tunic underneath a thick fur vest secured around his waist with a wide leather belt. Upon his feet he wore large brown boots that came up to just below his knees. As if this sight wasn’t shocking enough, he had on his head a round helmet with two large bullhorns sticking out of it.

“Don’t ask.” Whispered Faramir, upon seeing her expression “He insisted. There was nothing we could do.”

“Sigrid my friend you look beautiful!” said Boromir holding her at arms length to take her in. “Absolutely beautiful. Girion’s song thrush I see. Now that’s appropriate aye?” he chortled “Come now you three.” Said Boromir turning to look at the group “Why must you all look so glum? Tonight is a night of celebration! If Fee must marry that woman, then let this be a night to remember! Come! Drink!” he cried, dragging them over to the drinks table, laughing.

Boromir handed out tankards of ale to them all, and then proceeded to help carry drinks enough for anyone who happened to be around them at the time. A lot of the older women were looking on fondly, as he had already promised to dance with about half of the spinsters and widows at the party.

“Let each of them be a princess on this night.” He declared, sweeping over to pick up his first partner, Mrs Halstead. She was now in her fifties but had lost her own husband when she was only twenty-two, just days before the birth of her son. She’d missed out on dances and parties, having to play the part of grieving widow, however it looked as though tonight she was making up for the most of it, gripping Boromir’s shoulders and laughing merrily as he spun her around and around the dance floor.

Sigrid noted that Mrs Tyler, now well into her nineties, was clapping along excitedly and chatting to her daughter about when her turn with ‘The Sexy One in the Fur Shorts’ was going to be. Boromir heard her and shouted out that she would be straight after Mr Thomas, but that he could not wait to show such a beautiful woman around the dance floor.

“Hello, my dear Lady.” Said a voice in Sigrid’s ear and she jumped, almost hitting the face of the person who’d spoken. “Wow, okay. If you didn’t want to see me you could have just said!” laughed the man.

“Fee!” cried Sigrid as she threw her arms around him, holding him tight, and refusing to let go “I missed you.” She whispered into his hair

“It’s only been ten minutes.” He laughed but held on tight all the same.

“We’ll just leave you two to it then,” said Éowyn, giving Sigrid a wink and leading Faramir off onto the dance floor.

“You’ve changed your costume I see.” Said Sigrid, taking in his new attire. Whilst previously he had been dressed as a brave and noble lion, his costume elegant and expensive looking, he was now a raven, his mask covering most of the top half face. It appeared to be bought from one of the local tradesmen rather than being bespoke like the costumes of the other nobles.

“I thought that if I was to spend my last night as Fee, then I didn’t want to do it in the costume of the Prince.” He smiled

“And yet you’re a raven, the very symbol of your house?”

“Well, I can no more stop being an heir of Durin in the same way you cannot stop being an heir of Girion.” He smiled, “If we are to be together, then we need to accept those parts of each other as well, my little song thrush.” He said, eyes twinkling.

“Plus,” he added “it also means I can do this” he put an arm around her waist and pulled her in for a deep kiss “and nobody will mind in the slightest.”

Indeed, nobody seemed to give them a second’s notice, all excitedly chatting to each other, eating the food on offer or else watching the dancers.

“Well, I think we’ll have to try that again. Just to test this theory of yours.” She smirked, this time picking him up slightly in her strong arms and kissing him.

“You know, there are rules about manhandling royalty.” Said Fíli sternly; though it was clear his heart wasn’t in it.

“Well then, it’s a good job you are just an apprentice and not a prince.” She smirked.

“Fair point.” Conceded Fíli “Come,” he said, grasping her by the hand, “let’s go and dance as we promised each other we would.” He pulled her into the foray of people just as the music changed to a slow waltz. He put his hand around her waist as Sigrid rested her hand on his shoulder and took his other hand in hers, squeezing it tightly. Soon, they were twirling and moving in time with the other dancers, Sigrid’s many skirts fluttering about as she did so.

A few of the onlookers pointed her out and whispered about who the beautiful girl was and did anyone know where she’d come from or what her name was even? Nobody commented at all on Fíli, even though he was dancing in the traditional style of the Durins (all be it slightly poorly).

“Why are so many people looking at us?” said Sigrid nervously

“They’re looking at you.” Said Fíli proudly “Because they have never seen anything so magnificent and are not in the habit of denying themselves the right to gossip about such gorgeous beings as yourself.”

“Shut it you.” Said Sigrid, tickling the side of his neck where her hand had previously rested

“I only speak the truth!” he laughed, returning the action “And anyway, I think most people are looking at Boromir.”

Sigrid looked around at the other dancers and noted how Boromir was holding an elderly Clanswoman in his arms bridal style and was spinning her around the dance floor, laughing. It seemed as though Faramir had been persuaded to join in, and was currently being eyed up by Farmer Lansford, whilst Éowyn giggled from the side-lines.

The song ended and a faster tune came on that reminded Sigrid of their time at the Arwen and Aragorn’s betrothal. The couple in question were now joining the dance floor and despite how well they danced, it was still Sigrid’s billowing dress and excited laughter that drew the eyes of the crowd.

“Who’s that girl?” asked Thorin curiously “The one dressed as a song thrush. Do we know her? Wait-“ said Thorin suddenly taking a step closer to them “Isn’t that Fíli she’s dancing with? Why has he changed his costume?”

Dís surveyed the dancers carefully and spotted the couple Thorin was talking about “Oh foolish boy.” Muttered Dís fondly “Did he really think a mask like that would fool his own mother?”

“Or his uncle!” said Thorin, indignantly

“Or, indeed, his idiot of an uncle.”

“What if the Blacklocks spot him? Everything would be ruined! We have to stop them.” He said firmly.

“Let him be, Thorin.” She said, resting a hand on his arm “Let him have one last night before you tie him down completely.”

“You know I don’t mean it to be like that…” said Thorin, looking despondently at his sister “He made the decision in the end.”

“Only because you set it up in the first place.” Huffed Dís

“I know Sister. I know. I’ve failed him.” He said looking away from her. “Although.” He said, frowning “Isn’t that Lady Dagní over there, with that Firebeard Lass?”

“Oh. So it is.” Said Dís, eyes a glow. “Well don’t they look like they’re getting on well.”

A small smile began to etch across Thorin’s face “I suppose one last night wouldn’t hurt either of them.” He said slyly “Care for a dance, Nana’?” He smiled, offering her his hand.

“I’m afraid my dance card is full.” Said Dís, waving merrily at a handsome young Clansman dressed all in black, the fabric stretched tightly across his muscular physique

“You really do know how to set an example.” Chuckled Thorin

“I’m a modern woman, Thorin, I know how to play the game. That is Lord Eluf, the favourite son of Lord Egil. If I can win him over, well, who knows.” She winked. “Perhaps,” she said casually “There’s another person you’d care to dance with?” looking subtly over at where the party from the Shire were standing.

Thorin blinked rapidly and turned to look back at his sister, but she was already being led off by Eluf. Thorin grabbed a pint of ale from a passing waiter, downed it in one, and strode off towards Bilbo, determined, this time, to make things work.

Chapter Text

Kíli wound his way throughout the crowd, searching for that swish of fiery hair. People kept trying to talk to him to get his opinion on one such matter or another, or else to beg his hand for a dance and, in one shocking moment, if he wanted to seek out a quiet spot for some ‘private conversation’ with a very forward Lady Sanna who appeared to have been sewn into her leather catsuit.

Kíli kindly declined her offer and sped off in the opposite direction, his eyes ever looking for his starlight huntress. Eventually, he spotted her and her brother surrounded by a group of adoring Commonfolk who all seemed eager to please her with requests for dances. Kíli cracked his knuckles, straightened his clothes, and strode purposefully forward. Those around him parted to let him through, a chorus of ‘your highness’es following him. When he reached the party he cleared his throat and waited for them to notice his presence.

The group slowly turned to face him, a look of panic on each one of their faces. “Your Highness” they stuttered, bowing and looking quite guilty about something, though what about he didn’t know. Kíli bowed back to them

“Gentlemen, My Lady, If you would allow me to interrupt, I would quite like to request a dance from the lady.” He said, turning to her, trying his best to look charming and attractive. Tauriel seemed to turn slightly red and a soppy moonstruck grin spread across Kíli’s face.

Legolas threw Tauriel a stern look “Your Highness, your offer is very kind however I do not think that”

“Excuse me sir, but I was addressing the lady, not you.” he interrupted, his glare making Legolas begin to feel most uncomfortable. “My lady?” He said turning back to Tauriel

“Think about what Father said.” Hissed Legolas

Tauriel, looked over to where her father was entertaining another group of men not that far over. A flitter of a smile crossed her face and she looked down at the eager, hopeful prince. “Well, I could hardly deny the Prince now could, I Legolas?” She said, taking his offered hand “Do excuse me Gentlemen. I’m sure my brother can entertain you for now.”

Kíli escorted her away from the group and towards the dance floor. “You know, you don’t actually have to dance with me.” He frowned “Don’t feel like you have to just because I was accidentally born royal. I mean, if you just said yes to annoy your father and get away from those men then that’s fine. You can leave now and find another partner or go home or”

“No, your Highness. It’s fine. If you would like to dance then I am more than willing to comply.” She gave him a short bow

“Please, don’t call me your Highness, it makes me feel like an idiot. Just call me Kíli, it is my name after all.”

“Kíli” Smiled the woman “I am”

“No, don’t tell me. Let me guess” Grinned the prince “A beautiful woman like you needs a beautiful name, one that can truly summarise the ethereal way you walk upon this earth and the ferocious nature you hide inside, something that exhibits your graceful appearance and mighty strength.”

She raised a skeptical eyebrow at him, her unimpressed look concealing just how adorable she found his ridiculous attempts at flirtation. The look didn’t put him off though and he stared thoughtfully at her for a moment, resting two fingers against his brow and frowning

“I’m getting a T…. Tau… Tauriel!” He said triumphantly and giving her a broad grin “Am I correct, my Lady of Starlight?”

“Congratulations, you have proven that you can listen and retain information gained from your brother at the entrance.” She smirked

“Ah! I am found out!” He said clapping a hand across his face

“Were you even trying to be subtle, Sir?” She said, raising a fine eyebrow at him

“Well, no. Not really.” He shrugged “Just, I don’t know, trying to get your attention? Did it work?” He asked hopefully

“You are the second in line to the throne, and you were worried that I would not notice you?”

“Well. Yeah. The real me, at least. Not Prince Kíli of Clan Longbeard and future Lord of the Blue Mountains and all that crap, just you know. Kíli the charming and adorable scoundrel.” He winked cheekily, though his side eyes still shone with hope and longing.

“Well then, Kíli” she said, putting carefully emphasis on his name “I should inform you that I am not a very keen dancer.” Kíli’s face fell and he opened his mouth to talk but she interested him before he could “However, I would not mind some refreshments, and I would also like to request a small favour of you.”

“Anything my Lady.” He smiled, taking her arm in his and leading her towards the drinks table

“I am seeking a gentlemen by the name of Fee, on behalf of my stepsister who” Tauriel suddenly stopped speaking as she caught a sight of the dancers “who,” she frowned “who looks awfully like that girl dancing there with the boy dressed as a raven…” she stood stock still for a moment taking her in and Kíli observed her face carefully.

“When she arrived,” she began “Legolas said he didn't recognise her at all, Father just ignored her completely and I, I thought I knew her.”

She weaved herself carefully towards the centre of the dancers to get a better look at them. The mysterious girl twirled past her and Tauriel caught a glimpse of her waves of blonde hair and eyes the colour of storm clouds. “Sigrid.” She said, her breath catching in her chest as she reached out to grab Kíli’s hand.

“She came. She got here, how? Her clothes they were-”

“Sigrid’s your stepsister?” said Kíli, eyes wide

“You know her as well? What’s happening, who is Fee? Tell me.” She said firmly.

Kíli hesitated. “I don’t think I’m the one to tell you that, it’s not my secret to tell, if she’s not told you then, well there must be a reason for it…”

“Father.” She murmured “Of course. He’ll recognise her though I’m sure I mean, he didn’t earlier but…”

“Why don’t we join the dancers, and you can talk to her?” Indeed, the dancers were about to begin one in the style of Dale, where the partners swapped and allowed for quiet moments of conversation.

Tauriel nodded and dragged Kíli onto the dance floor, where everyone seemed to be setting up. She stood beside Sigrid, who visibly straightened her back and took a hitch of breath. On Sigrid’s left stood a stout, older woman with sleek dark hair which glittered with precious stones, whilst on Tauriel’s right was a short fellow with bright eyes and a button nose who was looking admiringly at his partner whom Sigrid recognised as the King himself. The musicians waited for two clanswoman to join in the party (one with masses of untamed black hair, the other with shimmering fiery curls) before starting the music. Sigrid threw a panicked look at Fee, and he mouthed words of comfort to her, which she did not have the time to take notice of before she was weaving in and out of the dancers.

“So,” said the older woman “you’re the one my son has pledged his heart to. You’re taller than I imagined you’d be.” Sigrid stared down at her, wide eyed

“I’m sorry madam, I don’t know who-”

“Lady Dís, at your service.” She said, spinning around Sigrid with ease to the fast rhythm of the music, “You’ve caused a lot of trouble my dear.” She grinned, “I’m sorry we couldn’t meet properly, but you seem a lovely girl.” She said, clapping her hands in time to the beat “I wish you all the happiness in the world after this disaster, chin up Agnât’nâthaê kusut. This night is for the young, there is no need to look so old. Hello Buntithbirzulê” she smiled, as she grabbed Fíli’s arm to spin her back into her original partner’s arms.

“What’s happening Fee?” said Sigrid as she stepped in time with him “Who was that?”

“Mum.” He said, a nervous smile across his face “She’s um, intense, she must have seen through the disguise um, oh shit, look out.”

From behind her the king himself appeared and took her hand as they cantered down the line of dancers to their next spot on the floor. “So. You’re my nephews apparent Marlûno.”

“I, your Majesty, I don’t know what you mean, I’ve never-“

“Don’t play dumb with me Commoner” he said sternly, though Sigrid thought she saw a twinkle in his eyes “I know that you’ve been seeing him in private.” He gestured his head towards where Fíli was spinning around Thorin’s dance partner from the start “I’ve never seen him happier than he has these last few days.” His smile became endearing and Sigrid could see the man Fee had described, someone who truly did love his family and was trying his best to keep them safe “I am sorry for what I’m putting you both through.” He said sadly

Sigrid blinked at him, she’d always thought that if ever she were to meet the king, that she would slap him, that she would yell at him and tell him that what he was doing was all wrong, yet she found she could not. She could tell he was trying, that he really did have his heart in the right place, just that perhaps his ideas were a little crooked and incorrect. He didn’t need yelling at, he needed guidance.

“Well, I can’t say that I agree with what you’re planning, Sir.” She said, taking his hand in hers as they circled one another “But I do think you’re doing what you think is best for the kingdom, I see your logic and I understand the position you’re both in. If Fee, that is to say, Fíli is consenting to it, then so be it.”

He chuckled as he spun her around one last time before moving onto the next partner “I can see why my nephew likes you so much. I am sorry for putting you through this, but the ways of royalty are not meant to burden those such as yourself.” He looked at her imploringly, unaware of the hurt he just caused, and Sigrid began to think that maybe the king was not as rude as she had thought, but simply did not for a very good job of understanding people. “May you have a long and happy life Ugnaru irakdashatê mudtu.” He kissed the back of her hand as he moved back to his partner to finish the final stages of the dance.

“You okay?” said Fee, holding her closer than perhaps he aught to given present company “He didn’t say anything to upset you did he?” he looked into her eyes carefully checking for tears.

“No, no Fee, it’s fine. Don’t worry, he just said” but Fee was whisked away again as the dance concluded with everyone turning to twist with the partners on right, which for Sigrid meant Tauriel. She begged that Gandalf was right, and that Tauriel would not recognise her.

“Sister.” Whispered Tauriel, and Sigrid felt a cold dread spread down her “You came.” Tauriel seemed to beam at her with joy, “You look beautiful, but Father forbid you from attending! He’s here, you need to go. Have you seen him yet? Fee? Is that him there?” she said, nodding towards were Fee was dancing with his brother

“Um- yes?” said Sigrid slowly, uncertain if Tauriel knew his true identity or not

“I’m glad you have had a chance to dance, but you should go quickly before Father or Legolas see you. I do not want you to get into more trouble.” She begged

“I’ll be fine, Tauriel.” She smiled “They have not recognised me yet.”

“That is because they are not expecting you. Please, Sigrid, leave soon. Don’t let them catch you. I do not wish to see you hurt anymore than you already have been.”

Sigrid eyed her Stepsister curiously as they curtsied to one another in conclusion of the dance. She really did seem worried for her, as though they truly were kin. Sigrid frowned. Perhaps she was correct, perhaps it was best to cut her luck and run- but the night was still young, and Gandalf had said that people who wished her harm would not recognise her…

“I’ll think about it.” She told her, placing a brief hand on her shoulder before turning and curtsying to Lady Dís and then Thorin. The music ended and Fíli stepped forward to take her hand once more

“Enough dancing, I think.” He said with a smile “Quick, let’s go before anyone else comes to question us both!” Sigrid laughed and grabbed a hold of his hand as they made their way back through the crowds.

“Where are we going?” she asked, giggling

“To my secret hideout, it’s where I go when I want to be alone. I want to show it to you. Please?”

“Lead the way.” She said, allowing herself to be dragged along by him.

Neither was particularly looking where they were going, too breathless from the dancing and laughing about nothing in particular beyond the joy of being together. In their haste to get away, they didn’t notice the man they bumped straight into.

“Ophff! Sorry Sir!” said Fee hastily

“We didn’t see you.” Said Sigrid to the man’s back. He turned around and Sigrid felt her breath turn cold in her mouth. It was Thranduil. She felt Fee’s hand tighten around her's as he too recognised her Stepfather, but she could not move. She was trapped by her fear of him, of what he might do now he knew she was here. For of course he would know! Tauriel was right, he had to find out he always did it would seem. It was stupid of her to think she could get away with this, stupid, stupid, stupid, stu-

“Nothing to worry about my dear, no harm done.” He smiled almost fondly “Best be off with you two though. And look where you are going this time.” The pair of them stood open mouthed for a moment before Fee was finally able to gather the mind enough to pull her away from him.

“Are you okay Father?” asked Legolas, coming over to him “You’re not hurt are you?”

“No Son, no. It’s quite all right. They’re just being young and in love. I saw them dancing earlier this evening, you could not mistake that look between them. I’ve known it myself, once or twice…” he said gazing into his wine cup briefly before turning back to Legoals “Now then, shall we continue with our plan? We haven’t spoken to anyone from Esgaroth yet.” He prompted, pointing Legolas in the direction of some businessmen.

“Do you know where your sister has got to?” he asked, frowning as he looked around the crowds

“No idea Father.” Lied Legolas easily, stepping slightly to his right to obscure his Father's vision of the dancers “I think perhaps she went to speak to some of the bankers from Laketown?”

Thranduil hummed approvingly “Very well, come Legolas, let us find these men of Esgaroth and impress them with our charming ways.”

*

It turned out that Fíli’s hideout was a small garden at the back of the castle, hidden behind an old hollowed out tree. It was the perfect height for a child to walk through easily, but Sigrid found she needed to crouch down so as she was almost on her hands and knees in order to get past. Had she perhaps been raised as a proper lady, she might have been angry at getting her dress grubby, however Sigrid was not afraid of a little dirt- and whilst it seemed a shame to get the nicest dress she’d ever had the pleasure of wearing get mud on, she was only wearing it so as to see Fee, and he wouldn’t care if it got damaged either.

The garden she’d entered into was beautifully taken care of. There were a variety of berry bushes around the borders, which looked as though they would bare the sweetest fruits when summer came and a variety of wild flowers covered small beds of earth. There was a small pond teaming with fish and frogs that had a tiny bridge over the top of it. However, most of the space was taken up by a large apple tree that had two ornate swings hanging down from it. Fíli gestured to one of them and Sigrid sat down on it, lightly pushing herself against the ground.

“My uncle built this for me.” Smiled Fíli, looking around fondly “We used to all play here when we were kids. He'd spend hours pushing me and Kee here.”

“Frerin sounds like he was an amazing uncle.” She smiled fondly, gripping the strings tighter and she began to swing herself higher into the air, Fíli mimicking her, it had been a long time since either of them even got to entertain the idea of being young, after all.

“Frerin was, but it was Throin who built this place.” He laughed at Sigrid’s look of shock “See, I told you he’s not all that bad. He’s just, I don’t know. He’s just Thorin.”

“He doesn’t seem very good at understanding people.” Mused Sigrid “He. When he spoke, I- I could tell he loved you.” she smiled “Very much.”

“Oh Mahal, what did he say to you?” groaned Fee, putting his face in his hands

“Only nice things.” She laughed, “Well, he meant them to be nice so I’ll take him for that.” Fíli groaned again and sunk lower on the seat of the swing, slowing down his speed

“I’m sorry about Mum as well, and Kee and just- well at least you haven’t met Gimli yet but, yes. My whole family is mad and I just,” he sighed “I wish you could meet them properly and we didn’t have to go through all of this.”

“Same.” She smiled and the pair of them sat in a sad silence for a little while, swinging higher and higher until they began to compete with one another over who could go higher and faster. Soon they were laughing and joking again, each upward swing making Sigrid feel like she was flying again, the broad grin on Fíli’s face next to her doubling the feeling.

“Come on, surely you’ve got more than that!” laughed Fee as he swung higher than her by a mere fraction.

“It’s not my fault you’re so short and light!” she joked, pushing herself forward with so much force that one of her shoes fell right off and landed in the pond. “Shit!” she cried, coming to a sudden skittering stop.

“Don’t worry!” said Fee, running towards it to see if he could get it out. “Damn.” He said, looking down. “No, sorry Sigrid, I think it’s gone… they weren’t too valuable were they?” he looked at the one she was holding in her hand, trying to mentally asses its value. “What are those even made of?” he reached up to gently take it from her hand to examine it more closely “Some sort of crystal?”

“Morgonite, I was told.” Said Sigrid, watching his face carefully as he admired the slipper. She’d heard about the possessive nature of the Clansman and their selfish desire to hoard treasure, but she had not thought Fee to be like that…

“They’re beautiful.” He said, watching them sparkle in the starlight “But not as beautiful as you, my lady.” He said passing the shoe back to her.

“You always were a charmer.” She said, allowing him to lead her to a nearby bench where she sat with her feet tucked up beneath her and out of the dirt. It was difficult to do so with the dress on, but she found she managed it okay.

“It’s weird.” Mused Fee, “How we can only be who we actually are whilst wearing masks. Your Stepfather does not see you as a servant, I can just dance with you as much as I like and only face the teasing on my family, rather than the anger of the Clans. Why should that be?”

“Because, to be royal is to wear a mask at all times.” Said Sigrid with a slight shrug.

“To think, what I wouldn’t give just to be able to remain with you for the rest of my days. To give up all of this, these royal privileges and gestures and responsibilities, and just live with you as my wife…”

“So then, Husband” said Sigrid, playing the game “what would we do together?”

“I don’t know. We’d go to Lórien and live with the Eldar, singing and dancing every night under the stars.”

“We could run away to Rohan and live in a cottage. I can do all the hunting and you can do all the household work.”

“Or live in the city of Gondor, making fine jewellery for all the lords and ladies of court.”

“We could run to the Shire and become farmers. Growing golden hay and carrots the size of your head.” She laughed, leaning towards him, tucking his arm around her back before snuggling into his shoulder. “It’d be amazing. But it’s just a dream.”

“Then it is a good dream.” Smiled Fíli, placing a kiss to the top of her head “One we can cherish together.”

“When do you marry her?” asked Sigrid, quietly

“Sigrid, we said we wouldn’t talk about this.” Pleaded Fee

“I know but, I don’t want to find it all out from someone else. Read about it in the paper or hear it from Thranduil. I want you to tell me these things. You to let me know of the important news in your life.”

“You’re the most important thing in my life right now.”

“Fíli, please, you know what I mean.”

Fíli sighed “Okay. Alright, I just. I don’t like thinking about it but you’re right. In a couple of days, Dagní and I will sign a contract in front of the seven families as intent of a formal engagement. After that, plans for the wedding will be made and we’ll get married in about a year at most.”

Sigrid nodded slowly. “And we won’t see each other again after tonight?”

“It’d be for the best.” Said Fee sadly “I’ve spoken to Dagní and she is on the same page as me, this is purely for the benefit of our people, she does not love me and I do not love her. But neither of us can back out of it really…”

“I know.” Said Sigrid “I just wish it didn’t have to be this way. I wish it were me signing the contract and just. Oh if he fire hadn’t had happened or if I’d sent the raven sooner if-”

“Don’t worry yourself with all these ifs and maybes, ‘ibinu kuylê.” Sigrid smiled at the words, remembering their meaning from the first time he’d said them to her.

“I suppose you’re right.” She sighed “Though don’t let it go to your head.”

“I’ll try not to.” He laughed. His hand gently reached up to remove her mask so as he could see her eyes properly. “Zi abnâmu‘izagâl.” He sighed “Inside and out.”

“I wish I had a second language with which to seduce you with.” She laughed, edging closer to him to place a light kiss on his lips.

“Is it working though?” he asked with a sideways grin

“You already know the answer to that!” she laughed “And I will not serve your ego anymore than I need to.”

“Spoil sport.”

“Come here you.” She said, reaching behind him to untie the mask from around his head and handing it back to you “No more masks.” She placed a kiss to his forehead “Not when we’re together and certainly not when we’re alone.”

“You know,” said Fíli carefully “you still haven’t taught me any Songbird. I’ve taught you some Khuzdul, it’s time you taught me some of your language.”

“It’s not quite the same…” said Sigrid pensively but at the look of disappointment on Fíli’s face quickly added “I mean, it’s less word for word and more about feelings and emotions.”

Fíli nodded careful. “So, the opposite Carrion, the ravens’ language? Where it’s all logic and sense. There’s little poetry in it, even if that does lead to some truly beautiful phrases.” He gave an example which just sounded like a series of barks and cackles.

Sigrid laughed “I shall have to take it from you that that was the highest compliment a Raven could give.”

“It means, roughly, Everyday I love you more and more, which sounds quite pretty but in the language, it’s treated as a solid fact. A universal truth that cannot be argued with. Which makes it more meaningful in my opinion.” He laughed “Go on then heir of Girion. I’ve taught you two things in my mother-tongues. Let me hear something of yours.”

Sigrid hummed carefully, trying to draw out the right emotions from her heart. She gave out a few steady notes, one after the other sung like words on a page. After a moment they picked up and the notes swirled together in unison and Fíli felt as though the music revolved around him and over him and inside of him. She took a breath and caught he gaze, a blush rushing up her face.

“Sorry. I got a bit carried away. You’re not going to be able to, that was. Sorry.” She said, scratching her arm.

“Amazing.” He said in awe “I’ve never heard anything like it. What does it mean?”

“It means, well it means, roughly translated.” And she began to sing the words to him in the common tongue “I never knew I could feel like this, like I’ve never seen the sky before, I want to vanish inside your kiss, everyday I love you more and more” she gave him a cheeky smile and he gave a small huff of laughter as he looked at her with wide eyed adoration “Listen to my heart, can you hear it sings, telling me to give you everything. Seasons may change winter to spring, but I will love you till the end of time.”

“Come what may.” He replied, grasping her hands “Come what may, Sigrid, I will love you till my dying day.” His eyes urging her to believe him.

“Now don’t be so dramatic.” She scolded him, rolling her eyes, but her smile told him that she understood, and that she felt the same way as well.

“We clansman are a surprisingly dramatic race.” He laughed “You should see a council meeting sometime. So many personalities in one room, it’s no wonder we never seem to get anywhere.”

“Well then I hope our short meeting is enough to squash your own so as something can get done you great lumbering fool.” She smiled.

Fíli looked at her sitting there next to him, smiling as the glow from the lanterns in the surrounding gardens lit her hair like a halo. “There’s something I want to give you.”

“Oh?” Said Sigrid curiously

“Something that, a Clansman is only meant to tell those they loves above all others, and only ever one person outside of their family.”

Sigrid frowned curiously at him, but allowed him to continue “Clansman are secretive by nature, and even in their love. We keep things safe inside ourselves and within those we care for deeply. So we have, we have tukharâm, an ‘outer name’ if you will, for everyday use, like a pair of trusty shoes. Mine is Fíli, as you have well learnt by now.”

“Yes, I think by now I have a good grasp on all your names.” She smiled “Though I am shocked at just how many one person can own.”

“Ah, but you see, I have one more. Clansman give a second name you see, nikharâm we call them, just for those we love, something special and secret to show we care. A name that is unique and truly defines us. One we do not share lightly, and never with outsiders. It is something I will never tell Dagní.”

“Fíli, I’m not sure you should-”

But he was already leaning in to whisper a single word in her ear, a name she had never heard before but instantly recognised within her heart. This was who he was. He wasn’t Fee or Fíli or Fí. He wasn’t a prince or a duke or an heir. This was his name and it was hers to keep forever.

As they looked at one another they truly saw them for who they were. They were on an even footing once more. No lies. No rules. No obligations, just two beings who’d found their Marlûno in the other, who’d battled across time and space to finally be together in this moment. Suddenly, a song occurred to them both, one in the languages of all those who fly, from the mighty eagles to the humble sparrows. Ravens and Song thrushes alike.

“Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place

Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace,

Suddenly my life doesn’t seem such a waste

And all revolves around you

And there’s no mountain too high, no river too wide

Sing out this song and I’ll be there by your side

Storm clouds may gather and stars will collide

But I will love you, until the end, of time.

Come what may,

I will love you

Yes I will love you

Till my dying day.”

They breathed for a moment as the last notes echoed out as the birds around them picked up their favourites notes to sing to their own loves.

“Whenever you feel alone. Just sing that song, and I’ll know you’re thinking of me, and you’ll know I’m thinking of you.” Smiled Sigrid,

“The birds will pick it up and bring it to us.” He smiled “You really are full of the best ideas Sigrid, whatever did I do in a past life to deserve someone as magnificent as you?”

“No idea.” She chuckled as she leant towards him for a kiss. She ran her hands through his hair and gave a contended moan as he deepened the kiss, sucking gently on her bottom lip as she did the same to his top lip. It was sloppy and messy, warm and wet, feeling grounded in each other’s caressing touch. Sigrid never wanted to let him go, wanted to feel this connection between them forever. However, the bells of the tower had other ideas as they began to toll midnight.

Sigrid sprung away from him “What’s that?” she cried looking around her

“It’s just the bells of the clock tower, they’ll be starting the fireworks soon I’m sure, we can watch them from here though don’t worry.” He said, gently pulling her back in to continue their kiss.

“No.” whispered Sigrid “Midnight. The coach.” She threw a panicked look at Fíli “I’m sorry, I have to go.” She said, picking up her remaining shoe and putting her mask on.

“What? Why? What’s midnight got to do with it? The party doesn’t end till two am Sigrid, why are you leaving?”

“I, I’ve no time to explain. It’s all magic and Rek’s driving and– Sorry. ” She reached forward for one final kiss, a kiss she tried to put everything she felt into; all the love and heartbreak she was feeling right now; all the hope he’d given her and the happiness she’d found. She let him go though, and quickly picked up her skirts to run back through the tree and back into the main gathering.

“Sigrid, wait, come back, I don’t understand!” said Fíli chasing after her, hastily tying his own mask back on. “You can’t just leave me! What about your shoe?”

She was running through the crowd now and back to where the coaches were. Fíli continued to chase after her though, people stepping out of their way to watch as he barrelled after her

“Wait, what about your shoe in the pond!”

“I’m sorry, keep it.” She called back as she ran up the stairs now.

“Amrâlimê!” he shouted in panic “Ignig lona! Gan idrin ammâ!” but in his panic to keep her close, he’s spoken words she did not understand “Come back please.” He begged her, ignoring the stares from the people around him, and the mumbling indignation at the language of the clans being shouted out amongst complete strangers, when it was meant to be theirs alone. A marker of those who could be trusted and those who could not be.

Everyone was staring at them now. Sigrid paused on the steps, “I will love you, Till my dying day.” She sung under her breath as she ran up the last few steps. She did not have much time to waste, the tenth bell had already tolled and she could already feel the magic fading. People continued to stare though, including Thranduil, as Fíli chased after her, but he tripped on the last step and his mask slipped, revealing his face.

There was a panicked gasp as the people around them realised who he was.

“The prince!” cried someone from the crowd “The prince said he loved her!”

“He loves her?” roared a barrel sized Blacklock Clansman “But he’s to be engaged to Lady Dagní!” uproar descended upon them.

“It’s Sigrid!” shouted the voice of one of the villagers “That’s who she is! I recognise her now! He loves Sigrid, Bard’s daughter!”

“Did he say Sigrid?” said Thranduil in confusion. “But she’s at home, she’s not here that can’t have been Sigrid, he must have been mistaken.”

Tauriel looked around her. She didn’t know what she could do, she needed to give Sigrid time to escape, if she could get back soon then there was a chance Thranduil wouldn’t pick up on anything that was happening. She turned to where Kíli was standing next to her, looking equally as panicked

“Do you trust me?” she asked frantically

“What?”

“I’ve got a plan, do you trust me?”

“Yes?” he said cautiously

“Then kiss me.”

“What?”

“Oh for.” Said Tauriel, pulling her hair loose from it’s tie and swishing it behind her like a red flag drawing attention to herself “Why yes Prince Kíli! I, a simple girl from Mirkwood, would be delighted!” she shouted above the din as she picked him up, stood on the refreshment table and kissed him full on the mouth.

Thorin heard the remark and turned to where his nephew stood for all to see, kissing a girl of no real standing from Mirkwood of all place! The scene Fíli’s was causing was bad enough, but at least he was still somewhat in disguise this was uncalled for entirely!

“KÍLI!” he bellowed, drawing eyes away from where Fíli sat upon the floor watching as Sigrid clambered into her carriage and off into the night. Thranduil, too, looked away from where he was trying to puzzle out if he knew the girl and turned to look at what the King was shouting about.

“Tauriel!” he growled, glaring at where his daughter stood upon the table for all to see “Come with me. We’re going home. I am sorry, your majesty.” He said tersely to Thorin

“You Mirkwoods you’re all the same, you come here to-”

“Yes yes whatever you say, blame us all for your petty war. Good night, Sir.” And before Thorin could call the guards to have them removed from his site, they were already exiting the castle, Thranduil pulling hard on Tauriel’s sleeve.

“What a woman.” Breathed Kíli, still reeling from her kiss, as Thorin dragged him inside.

“The party is over!” he roared “Back to your homes! Now!” everyone began to panic and exit as fast as they could

“Why does it have to be my family?” said Dís, rubbing a hand down her face “Mahal, what did I do to deserve this?” she looked between her sons, one having just seen the love of his life disappear before him with what seemed to be no warning at all, no doubt causing a huge inter-clan rift in the process, the other having caused an international incident in order to distract people from his brother by kissing a woman from their sworn national enemy.

She weighed up her options and decided to go and rescue her youngest, he was, after all, heir to the Blue Mountains. He was technically her responsibility.

Fíli ignored all the chaos around him, still sitting on the floor.

“Seasons may change, winter to spring….”

*

“But I will love you until the end of time…” hummed Sigrid as she sat upon the pumpkin that had been her carriage in the rags that had been her gown. Everything had turned back to how it had been before; everyone had flown off home to roost after she assured them she’d be fine. She wasn’t really, didn’t think she ever would be. But at least she had been, once upon a time, which was more than could be said for most people.

She looked upon the only thing that remained unchanged, the Morgonite slipper whose partner had fallen into the pond, where it would no doubt stay for the rest of its days. She’d been granted this at least, this last memento. She smiled fondly at it as she carried it into her bedroom and placed it beneath her pillow.

The night had not gone as she had planned, she had had to leave too soon and it sounded as though Fíli was going to be in huge trouble, still. She could not help but grin at the memories of all that had happened previously.

“Thank you fairy godmother.” She smiled as at last she allowed sleep to claim her, unaware of the trouble and chaos that was about to follow.

Chapter Text

Dís had taken a slight detour before she went in to rescue her youngest son from the rage of her brother, deciding that she was likely to need back up. So when she stormed into her brother’s office without invitation she was flanked on both sides, making enough of an entrance so as to leave the two of them speechless.

The look of besotted bliss on Kíli’s face hadn’t quite disappeared yet, even though Thorin was shouting at him loud enough so as even those drinking in Mahal’s Halls could hear him. That damn boy, ever the romantic. What on earth was she going to do with him?

“Nadad, ammâ a’rukh a’gul.” She growled

“I am the King, you cannot simply barge in here like this!” bellowed Thorin “Show some respect.”

“Show some respect? How can I respect a man so blind to everything around him? To the feelings of his own nephews, dashshatê!” she shouted back, taking a step closer. “Me uzbad luknu, ini me nadadê ya ra mazsh bingaladu!” she spat

“You, you can’t talk to me like that!” spluttered Thorin

“Oh, can’t I, durh’atam?”

“Nana’ ignig, me ughur yadi.”

“Me yadi zi’al! Hu dashatê!” 

“Could we perhaps all talk in a language everyone can understand?” said the voice next to her.

Thorin finally took in the people who were accompanying her, first there was Gimli who’d he’d expected to see given his close relationship with his nephews, but the figure who’d just spoken took him slightly by surprise.

“Bilbo?” he said quietly “I’m, I’m sorry I didn’t see you there,.” He stuttered, blushing slightly “Please forgive me.”

“Perhaps it would be a good idea if Kíli and, what was your name again lad?”

“Gimli.”

“Yes, Master Gimli-”

“Lord, actually.” Smirked the boy

“Yes, very well then, if Lord Gimli were to escort Prince Kíli to his rooms, perhaps we could all talk about this like grown ups? And not the bullying, babbling children you seem to be currently.”

“Yes, good idea.” Nodded Dís, “I’ll deal with you later my boy,” she warned Kíli as Gimli took him by the arm and marched him out the door

“Kun ‘Amad.” He sighed

“Here,” smiled Bilbo, taking Gimli and handing him a small pouch of something “Give this to Fíli, far better than ale any day.” He winked, extracting the flask from Gimli’s pocket with expert ease.

“Now.” sighed Dís, walking around and taking a seat at Thorin’s desk “Let us talk like reasonable adults, just as Master Baggins has suggested.” She smiled sweetly “As far as I can tell, Kíli has not done anything quite so worthy of your rage.”

“Agreed,” nodded Bilbo. “From what I’ve heard, you’ve been trying to improve relations with Mirkwood, after all, perhaps this is an opportunity of some kind?”

Thorin gave out a huff of disbelieving laughter “I will never allow a Son of Durin to marry a child of Mirkwood – no matter where they live now.”

“Yes well, it was just an idea.” Sighed Bilbo

Dís hummed disapprovingly “Whilst I am not fond of the idea, I do agree that it is not the be all and end all of things. I will punish the boy for causing a scene in such a way, and remind him of his duties as future Lord of the Blue Mountains, you can be sure of that. However, we surely have more pressing matters on our hands.”

“Fíli.” Thorin groaned, raking his hand down his face “He’s heart broken.”

“Yes, but we knew that was going to happen anyway.” Said Dís tersely, "just not in such a manner. The Blacklocks have found out and they’ll no doubt soon be-”

There was a loud crash as once again the doors to Thorin’s office banged open and in stormed Lady Unna and Lord Dufin, accompanied by a exasperated looking Lady Dagní.

“Ammâ a’rukh a’gul!” roared Lady Unna slamming her hands on the desk

“Who was that scarlet woman your son was talking to? How dare he desert our daughter so soon! You both gave us your word that he would marry our Dagní and yet before the engagement has even taken place you are betraying us already! Me barathgalt binakrâg!”

“Honestly, I’m a pig if they do get married, I’m a pig if they don’t.” muttered Thorin

“Ah! Lady Unna, Lord Dufin we were just talking about you.” Smiled Dís merrily “I was wondering how long it would take you to arrive. Lady Dagní, a pleasure as always.”

Dagní gave a huff of annoyance but smiled none the less “Lady Dís, always good to see you.”

“Never mind these bloody pleasantries!” growled Lord Dufin “What about our daughter! She’s heartbroken over the matter! Seeing her fiancé declaring his love to some commonfolk harpy!”

“Really?” Said Dís in a shocked tone “She doesn’t seem that heartbroken. Dagní, are you heartbroken?”

“No.” she said simply, crossing her arms against her chest “I ain’t.”

“Well then, considering your daughter seems in fine spirits, why don’t we just discuss all this mayhem tomorrow morning, after everyone has had a good night’s sleep, aye?”

“A wonderful idea, your Ladyship.” Bowed Bilbo

“And who is this sharbragân?” said Lady Unna, looking down at Bilbo with mild disgust

“That is Ambassador Baggins.” Growled Thorin “The most loyal and just person the world has ever seen and you will show him some respect.”

The look in his eye made Lady Unna back off slightly, as Dagní tried her best to hide her smile.

“Yes, well. Sorry.” She sniffed

“Tomorrow morning then, ten am sharp.” Said Dís, shuffling them out of the room. “Hôd will show you to your quarters. Hôd” she waved at the guard “Please make sure Lady Unna and Lord Dufin don’t get lost now.” She smiled sweetly, closing the doors of the office and leaving Thorin and Bilbo alone, the sound of the Blacklock’s protests drowning out.

“Oh Bilbo.” Sighed Thorin, slumping down in his chair “What on earth have I done?”

“Well, you’ve made a pigs ear of it that’s for sure.” Said Bilbo, rubbing the back of his head “Though I can understand why. Still, your temper will be the death of you Thorin Oakenshield.”

“Nobody has called me that in a long time.” He smiled warmly

“Well then, perhaps it’s time you remember when you were just a prince defending his family, rather than a King who puts their needs below everything else.”

“But a king must do that Bilbo, don’t you understand? I have to put my kingdom first, they are my family as well.”

“Sometimes,” said Bilbo kindly “Doing what is right by your loved ones leads to doing what is right by them all. A happy king leads to a happy kingdom, after all. Fíli would be miserable married to Dagní and you know it.”

“I can not break my word on this matter Bilbo. You understand that.”

“I do Thorin, I do. I just wish you’d never given it in the first place.” He put a hand on his shoulder and hovered, as though considering what to do next before moving away again and straightening his jacket. “I should be off to bed as well.”

“Very well then.” Said Thorin “I’ll accompany you- I mean!” said Thorin, blushing beetroot red “I’ll help you find the place. It’s a big palace after all.”

“Thank You Thorin, though I think I can find the way by myself.” He smiled, bowing as he left the room.

Thorin groaned as he rested his head on the desk, and wondered what on earth had happened over the years to make him like this. So brash and quick tempered in most things in life, yet awkward and uncertain whenever it came to Bilbo. Could Bilbo ever truly forgive him for what he’d had put him through? Possibly not.

Then there was the girl to think of. People didn’t run away like that without reason. Especially not when so besotted as she’d seemed when he spoke to her during the dance. For the first time that evening, he wondered if perhaps she was in as much peril from their match as Fíli was.

*

Sigrid had only just got changed out of the tatters of her dress when her stepfamily arrived. She quickly pulled her blanket over her head and pretended that she’d been asleep for hours.

“How dare you show us all up like that.” She heard Thranduil hiss “I told you to stay away from the royal family and you didn’t hear a word of it, did you? You foolish girl!”

Sigrid felt panic rise up inside of her, had Thranduil recognised her after all? Her heart beat faster in her chest as she heard him step closer to the kitchen. He was calling to her, he was going to enter the room, see the pumpkin outside and just know she’d disobeyed his orders. She wanted to get out of bed and stand her ground, but she was frozen with fear.

“After I took you in, when your family died I could have just chucked you out on the street but no, I honoured my word and looked after you; treated you like my own daughter and this is how you repay me? By the Valar, I can hardly look at you.”

“I apologise Father. I didn’t feel as if I could say no. I’d also been drinking the wine the men kept brining me, I wasn’t thinking straight.”

Sigrid frowned, that sounded like Tauriel’s voice. Was it Tauriel who’d been seen with Fíli? She was dancing with his brother earlier, but surely Thranduil wouldn’t be this angry about just a dance. It was very hard for a lady to decline royalty, after all. Though she knew that Kíli would never force himself upon anyone.

“Father. It was just one kiss.” Said Legolas, and Sigrid’s eyes went wide. Kiss? Had Tauriel actually kissed Kíli? They’d shared one dance and one dance alone, and okay so she wasn’t one to judge considering she’d fallen in love in the space of only a few days, but this really didn’t seem like Tauriel at all… Kíli maybe, from what she’d heard about him from Fee, but not Tauriel.

“She caused more of a seen than that blonde haired dunce and his wrench of a woman.”

Sigrid spluttered at that. A wrench! Was that really what people were saying about them? Well. She supposed that from the Clansman’s point of view, she was somewhat of ‘the other woman’ considering that Fíli was meant to be getting engaged to Dagní in only a few days. She stifled a giggle. There was something oddly pleasing about being treated like a mysterious woman who’d stolen a princes’ heart. When really, to everyone involved it was Dagní who was the one stealing Fíli from her!

Okay, so it wasn’t as simple as that, and it didn’t sound like Dagní wasn’t any keener on the match than Fíli was. But still, she couldn’t help the pang of jealously that rose up inside of her at the thought of the pair of them together.

Thranduil was talking again now “I don’t want to hear anymore from either of you. This whole night has been a complete disaster. We’ll never hear from any of our current clients again now they know you’re so besotted to royalty, and nobody will want to talk of our business deals with all that’s going on! We’ll be quite forgotten thanks to that meddling girl. Now to bed with the pair of you. I can’t bare to look upon your faces. Go, and we will speak more on this in the morning.”

Sigrid listened carefully as she heard her stepsiblings bid their father goodnight and head off up the stairs to their rooms. She thought she would hear Thranduil’s footsteps as well, but she heard nothing but the clinking of glasses until he made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Sigrid’s took a deep intake of air and curled herself up into a tiny ball, closing her eyes shut tight and hoping that he would think her asleep. There was a rattle and a bang as he checked to see if the kitchen door was still locked and she was mercifully grateful that she’d had the foresight to grab the spare key behind the plant pot before she came in so as she could lock it again.

She heard movement once more and held her breath as Thranduil moved towards her room. The door creaked open and she could sense him standing in the doorway. She continued to feign sleep, not daring to move a muscle.

“Hmmm. Right where you should be. Strange.” He murmured, “The man seemed so convinced. But still. Bard’s daughter indeed. As if they knew you better than I, my husband.” The door creaked shut and Sigrid felt more confused than she’d been before.

Thranduil never mentioned Da, except sometimes whilst drunk or when informing her of how grateful she should be to him. She twisted and tried to get some actual sleep before the dawn, but questions kept spilling through her head of all that she had over heard. She began to hum her mother’s nursery rhyme to herself,

Lavenders Blue

Dilly Dilly

Lavenders Green

The heel of the slipper dug into her head all through the night, and filled her dreams with images of handsome princes and dashing kings fighting for their home and for those they loved.

When I am King,

Dilly Dilly

You shall be Queen

Fíli hummed the tune to himself as he lay on top of his bed, unable to sleep, even though he was exhausted beyond belief. He felt as though all the bones in his body had been smashed against the ground. He felt winded, unable to move, unable to speak, as though he’d taken a leap of faith only to end up stabbed in the back and left to die.

He knew this was coming, knew they were to be parted, but he hadn’t thought it would feel like this. He’d thought they’d have had a proper goodbye but she’d just run off for no real reason other than some garbled nonsense about carriages and Rek of all things. Was she just that eager to be rid of him? Had he perhaps scared her off by telling her his nikharâm?

He’d thought it the right thing to do at the time… a reminder of what she meant to him, as close to a proposal as he could ever give her. Yet she’d run from him. After everything that had happened she’d run away? He twisted around and lay curled up on his side, staring aimlessly at the blank wall.

There was a soft knock at the door and Fíli let out an exasperated sigh “Go away ‘Amad. I’m fine, just leave me be.”

“It ain’t ya Mother, and if ya don’t open this door I’ll break it down with my Axe. I never leave home without it, you know that. You don’t want to be alone, I know ya’ too well Saktûnê.”

Fíli gave out a soft chuckle and rolled over into a sitting position before gathering his strength and going to unlock his door.

“You look like shite.” Said Gimli, bluntly before barging past him and settling down on Fíli’s sofa by the fire, resting his feet on the cushions.

“Why yes, come in, make yourself at home.” Muttered Fíli

“Aye, that I will then.” Smirked Gimli, as he dug around in his breast pocket for his pipe and tobacco.  “Come, sit with me,” He said, as he lit it, chucking the match into the dying embers of the fire. “Bring your pipe, we’ll have a smoke and chat about your feelings and shite.”

“I told you, I just want to be alone.”

“Raktmêzu ishfitumun ra i’gim.” He growled, pointing at the armchair opposite him.

“You know I’m two years older than you.” He grumbled, digging about in his bedside drawer for his pipe before flopping down into the armchair, his knees drawn up to his chin.

“Aye, but I ain’t the one acting like a child.” He said, holding his hand out for Fíli’s pipe “To be honest, I was all for getting ya sloshed out of ya head, but that Shireman of ya’ Uncles, Mr Boggins or whatever, said this would do a better job.” He stuffed it with pipe weed from his pouch and passed it back to Fíli.

“What have you put in this.” Said Fíli shrewdly sniffing it slightly. It had an earthy herbal aroma that reminded him of sun lit days riding through the forests with his father. The smell taking him back to a happier time and place before all of it came crashing down around him.

“No idea what’s in it.” Shrugged Gimli, taking a puff on his pipe and breathing out a smoke ring “But it’s the good stuff. From the Southfarthing, apparently.”

“You know, I don’t really smoke…” said Fíli

“Bollocks.” Gimli responded with a huff “I know for a fact ya’ do when ya’ ma’s not around. I told ya’, ya’ canny hide nothing from me Laddie. Now, have a puff and tell ya’ cousin Gimli all that’s ailing you.”

Fíli took a puff on the pipe and felt took in the herbal flavour of the pipe weed and allowed it to fill his lungs. He breathed out again and looked at his pipe admiringly “That’s not bad.” He smiled

“See, got ya’ smiling already.” Beamed Gimli “So, tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”

“Why is Bilbo giving you his pipe weed?” asked Fíli, deliberately dodging the question.

“He cares about ya’, same as we all do.” He shrugged “Been running after ya Uncle trying ta calm ‘im down. Stop him from tearing ya’ brother’s head off for snogging that Mirkwood Lass.”

“Kíli did what?” said Fíli, eyes wide

“Love really does make people blind.” Scoffed Gimli “He distracted the crowd from your dramatics by kissing that lass he’d been dancing with. ‘Course, nobody knew she was from Mirkwood till she said it out loud, idiots, the pair of ‘em. Her dad didn’t seem too keen on the idea either, but Thorin completely blew his top off.”

“Tauriel.” He murmured, “I thought I saw her talking to Sigrid I- oh shit. I didn’t even hear Thorin shouting I. Fuck.” He said, taking an anxious puff of his pipe

“You owe ya’ brother an apology I think.” Said Gimli wisely

“Guess you’re right. Is he okay? Uncle’s not done anything too harsh, has he?”

“Ya mum’s with ‘im.” Gimli nodded “He’ll be okay. Seems besotted beyond belief though, that lass of his must be a damn good kisser. Looks like he’s been knocked over the ‘ead with the side of an axe.”

Fíli laughed at the image, the conversation making him feel more at ease. “Yeah, that sounds like Kíli alright.”

“So.” Said Gimli, swinging his feet off of the sofa and leaning forward “Tell me about what happened between you and this Marlûno of yours.”

Fíli let out a deep sigh, took a thoughtful puff on his pipe and began to tell Gimli all that had occurred, leaving out some of the finer details that he knew his cousin would find far too soppy and romantic.

“You told her your nikjarâm?” said Gimli is shock

“Yeah… it felt, I don’t know, right somehow?”

“And then you sang a song together?” said Gimli, raising a sceptical eyebrow

“Yeah. It was weird but, it felt real? It felt as though this was what was meant to happen all along.”

“Bunch of new age bollocks if you ask me.” Scoffed Gimli, but he took in the lost expression on his cousin face and reached out to place a comforting hand on his knee “But if it’s what makes you happy Saktûnê, then so be it.”

“Then the bells went and she just ran away for no good reason…”

“Aye, I was there for that bit.” Laughed Gimli softly “Did she not say anything to ya’?”

“Just that there was a carriage and something about Rek, my raven…”

“Well, have you asked Rek what’s happened?”

“What? No, why would I?”

“Well, maybe she’ll know what’s up.” Gimli shrugged “She’ll be sleeping now though. I suggest you leave it till the morning. You can do nothing on it for now Laddie.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Sighed Fíli

“And it sounds like everything before that was quite the night for you.” Winked Gimli

“Yeah.” Grinned Fíli “Yeah it kind of was?”

“Not that I want any more details then you’ve already told me mind. But I’m glad you and your Marlûno”

“Sigrid.” Said Fíli, “She’s my Marlûno, yes, but she’s her own person first.”

“Sigrid then.” Chuckled Gimli “I’m glad you and her had a grand time. You deserve to have that at least.”

“What are the Blacklocks saying?” asked Fíli nervously, he’d really cocked it up on that front, he thought to himself.

“Saying? They ain’t saying anything, shouting on the other hand? They’re doing a heck of a lot of that.”

“I suppose I should probably go and”

“No. Leave ‘em to it. Let them burn themselves out and then let them come to you. Make them think they’ve made the mistake.” He winked

“Am I really getting diplomacy advice from you?”

“Aye, you are. Dís has arranged for you all to have a meeting in the morning where you’ll discuss everything. So don’t do anything ya’ might live to regret before then. Well, not anything else at least. Now get your royal arse back into bed and try and get some rest. Ya’ look like ya’ need at least five years of it.”

Fíli chuckled to himself, “Perhaps I do need just that.”

“Zann galikh, Bintagre.”

“Zann galikh, Binshubtu.” He smirked as Gimli closed the door behind him. Fíli changed into his nightshirt and at last sleep claimed him, dreaming of raging dragon fire, and hope in the form of a young woman’s kindness.

Chapter Text

When Sigrid awoke that morning, in took her a moment to realise where she was. She’d dreamt of a life where she still had her father and her siblings, of days playing on a lake and pride in a kingdom she was responsible for. But there had been no face for her to wake up next to in the morning, no one to hold at night or to share in her old age, a love gone before it could even happen. She’d woken with tears in her eyes as she wondered what universe she’d rather live in, this one or the dream world, with no idea as to the answer.

“This Universe.” She said to herself “The real one. Right here.”

The house was ghostly quiet that morning, possibly because everyone was trying to put off the inevitable argument that would no doubt arise based on the events of last night.

Of course, if Tauriel had kissed Kíli, then was there really that much harm in it? It would ruin their black market business for certain, but wasn’t courting royalty meant to be a good thing? She chuckled to herself at that. Well. It wasn’t a good thing when you were nothing but a servant and your beloved was next in line to the throne and was meant to be getting married to someone else!

But for Tauriel, their match could only mean good things surely? If it were Thorin being angry she could understand – for all her heirs and graces, Tauriel did not have a single highborn bone in her body. Was it simply that she’d gone against Thranduil’s explicit orders? Surely he couldn’t begrudge her for that…

Then again, she thought he did throw away good game just because it was I who caught it and not Tauriel. Who could ever judge what went on in that mind of his?

She went about her morning tasks, setting pots and pans onto boil and checking what ingredients she needed to stock up on, smirking to herself as she noticed that they had just enough milk left for her morning porridge.

“Thank You Fairy Godmother.” She chuckled as she stirred the pot.

As the sun began to stream in through the window and the clock chimed eight o’clock she heard rustling coming from upstairs. Somewhat to her surprise, Tauriel appeared on the stairs that lead to the kitchen, announcing herself with a small cough.

“Come in.” trilled Sigrid, laughing as she put her dish into the sink “Cup of tea?” she asked as she grabbed some teacups from the shelf.

“Yes please, and some toast if you have it.” Said Tauriel, pulling out a chair for herself.

“You normally don’t take breakfast down here, what brings you?”

She sat opposite Tauriel, blowing the steam off of her own cup.

“I’m afraid I’m avoiding Father for as long as possible.” She sighed “I’m worried as to how things will escalate following last night. What you did was not the wisest move Sigrid, you should have left when you had the chance.”

“You’re one to talk.” She smirked “I heard that you had a pleasant time with Prince Kíli. Whom I entirely approve of, by the way.” She winked

“Sigrid,” said Tauriel, rather sternly “I did that entirely for you so as I could distract Father from that scene you were causing.”

“Yes and I thank you for it, but it can’t have been too much of a chore for you.” She grinned

“Yes, well.” Coughed her stepsister, a slight pink blush appearing on her high cheekbones “It wasn’t unpleasant. But Sigrid, you shouldn’t have stayed that long. How Father didn’t recognise you is a miracle, but you’ve made your life very difficult, and mine in the process.”

“Hey.” Said Sigrid, indignantly “I thought you were meant to be on my side?”

“I am Sister.” Smiled Tauriel faintly “But I need you to realise, Thranduil is not a man to be crossed.”

“Yes, I am aware of that.” She scoffed, she’d thought Tauriel was finally backing her up on things, but it felt like the same as it ever did - protecting her own back rather than defending her stepsibling. Tauriel would never see her as an equal; she’d always be a charity case. She was finally seeing that now.

“You don’t understand.” Sighed Tauriel, frustrated at Sigrid’s apparent ignorance. “In order to grow the business, he needed the ball to go well, and it hasn’t. Quite the opposite in fact, anything that could have gone wrong has gone wrong. Because I had to cover for you, he’s turned his rage onto me. I can handle it. He needs my skills with a bow. But you Sigrid, there’s a reason he’s always got Smaug over.” She said darkly

“What?” said Sigrid, a sense of dread filling her chest

“I can’t say anything for certain.” Said Tauriel, biting her lip in worry “But I just know that he always gets what he wants one way or another.”

“Tauriel!” cried Thranduil’s voice from upstairs “Come here girl! I haven’t finished with you yet.”

Tauriel reached out and grabbed Sigrid’s hand, a brief look of hurt crossing her face when Sigrid snatched them away again, still not quite understanding that she had her best interests at heart. “Just, be careful Sister. Don’t do anything rash today. Keep your head down and don’t give in to any of the gossips.”

Sigrid watched her ascend the stairs with an incredulous look. Thranduil rage was like a storm, harsh and dangerous but quick to pass with any damage done quick to repair. Tauriel was just trying to blame her for Thranduil’s behaviour. She was certain of that. But still…

As she went about preparing Thranduil’s breakfast, she thought of her Love, and how strong he made her feel, the courage and hope she’d found in him. Quietly, so that only those nearest her could hear, she began to sing their song. 

Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place

Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace

It seemed as if Fíli had only been asleep for a few moments when he was being shaken awake. In the distance of his dream, he could hear her voice, singing out to him  

Suddenly my life doesn’t seem such a waste

Fíli shifted his shoulder and rolled away from whatever was trying to wake him,

And all revolves around you

His attacker didn’t back down though, and he was forced to kick out against them, desperate to hold on to her voice and their song

And there’s no mountain too high, no river too wide

“Up I said!” shouted his opponent, finally breaking through the haze of his dream

“Kíli idlig.” He moaned “Uganini.”

“It’s not your brother your Highness.” Said a stern yet kind voice “It’s Frigg. Your Ma told me to wake you up, she wants you down stairs and dressed for breakfast in ten minutes.”

“Daramî gamekh.” He groaned, pulling the duvet over his head

“No. Now.” She said firmly, pulling his duvet off him in one swift movement. “Get up and get changed.” She said, throwing a set of formal clothes at him “Or else I’ll use that bucket of cold water like Lady Dís ordered me to.”

“Okay, Okay. E birânkhiri!” he moaned, laughing slightly “My goodness, will you never change Frigg?”

“I was like this when you were five and I’ll treat you like it till you’re five hundred” Laughed his old Nurse Maid. “Get changed.” She prompted, crossing her arms.

“You can leave for this part you know.” Said Fíli, raising an eyebrow

“And let you go back to sleep, not a chance.”

“At least turn around.” He said, indignantly

“Oh it’s not like I’ve haven’t seen it all before.” She huffed, but turned her back to him all the same. “The palace is full of gossip this morning you know, about you and that girl from the ball.” She said, casually

“Yes, I suppose it is.” He said tersely as he pulled off his nightshirt and tugged on his jodhpurs.

“Everyone wants to know who she is, considering she obviously wasn’t Lady Dagní or any of the other clanswoman present.”

“You can probe all you like, I’m not going to tell you anything.” He said firmly

Frigg sighed, “So be it then. Can’t blame an old woman for trying.”

“You’re not so old, Friggy.” Said Fíli, climbing off of his bed now he’d finished changing and pecking her on the cheek.

“You’re a good lad Fí.” She smiled, patting his cheek fondly “Now off to breakfast with you. Oh, and remember, Tablithbirzul, no matter what happens, I’m always on your side.”

“Akhminruni asti, Frigg.” He smiled “It’s good to know someone has my back.”

“Oh there’s many more than just me, but get away with you. Your Ma wants you all organised before the meeting with the Blacklocks later.”

Fíli nodded, thanked her once more and raced off towards the breakfast room, where he was no doubt going to face the questions of his Uncle. He wondered to himself how Sigrid’s morning was going. He vaguely knew that he should be angry with her for her behaviour, but she hadn’t asked for any of this.

She didn’t even like royalty when they’d first met and suddenly he’d dragged her into a world of parties and politics and love coming last. At least he knew from the feeling in his heart as he heard her song that morning that she still loved him, still thought of him despite all he’d put her through.

“Sing out this song and I’ll be there by your side.” He sung under his breath as he entered the breakfast room. Kíli was already there, looing miserable as he vaguely prodded at his scrambled eggs.

“Kee Bakn galikh.” Said Fíli, sliding into the seat next to him.

“Fee Bakn galikh.” He mumbled in response.

“Where’s Mum and Thorin?” he asked, looking around “Frigg told me she was going to chuck a bucket over me if I didn’t get here in time, and now she’s the one who’s late?”

“She’s talking to Thorin before the meeting later on today.” Said Kíli, eyes not leaving his plate “I think they want to present a untied front before they organise our united front.” He gave another sigh as he pushed his plate away and stared up at the ceiling.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Amrâl.” He sighed

“Nan’â.” Said Fíli resting his head in his hand as he looked out at the breakfast table, wondering if she was awake yet. “Tauriel?”

“Kun. Sigrid?”

“Kun.” he stared at the grand breakfast table and thought back to her own meagre living space. If he weren’t feeling so dejected himself, he might tease Kíli for being hung up over someone he’d only known a few hours, but he felt in no spirit for mockery. He still couldn’t understand why Sigrid wanted to get away from him so quickly when she was meant to be in love with him.

“Diya lô arnul fa birasabkhan adash?” Fíli murmured, looking confusedly at his brother in the hope that maybe he had answers, considering he had spent the evening being rather intimate with her stepsibling “E beneatsi bi kuf?”

But Kíli’s mind was elsewhere, still thinking about his shining star who’d been dragged away from him for no clear reason he could fathom “Diya nî amâlzani, zûr zâmkhihi, mudtu u e mazakfai?” he sighed

“Hurdu!” cried Kíli, banging his head on the table, making Fíli jump out of his own revere. “Ablukh u aglâb u niyumul.” He moaned, throwing his head back and sinking into his chair

“Zundraribârê zi’al azralî” Fíli sighed and buried his head in his hands, thinking of the upcoming meeting with the Blacklocks and what Thorin would no doubt have to say over the whole situation. “arkiri zi’al binamkhâhul.”

Kíli nodded in agreement.

“Dai ‘egemsun aya zasdiya zurâ adrâm ethârul bakundiya naradsun” he began, a dreamy look in his eyes, the same love sick facial expression on his face as he had after she’d kissed him “abnâmul ra asadul ra irzêd thataeul hikhthuzul.” He sighed, his eyes going distant at the mere thought of his ladylove “Bâââââââââââââââââ!”

Fíli scoffed at his brother, “Hurdu!” he said, hands clasped over his own heart “amêzu ‘uabrâsh mi” he said reaching over to prod Kíli in the chest and getting a disgruntled and disbelieving look back “Mê maktibi agnugsi ya, nî medân!”

“Doors?” said Kíli, frowning “what do doors have to do with anything? There’s one right there, just take it and leave us all to our pain you masochist!”

“They’re metaphorical.” Said his brother, rolling his eyes “If there weren’t so many things stopping us from being together, obstacles and rules and regulations and hurdu!” he cried again, planting his face on his table again “Rukhis! Izdin akhrâk iktibitî!”

“Ins duruj kud” said Kíli, finally sounding vaguely reasonable

“Fa matharratul” murmured Fíli, head still on the table

“azafr arkiri zi’al binamkhâhul?” he finally took a scoop of his eggs and wiped the grease from his mouth with the back of his hand

“E lo aknâsul, bahir, binamzâm” he said, listing off his qualities with a practice ease “bingurad, birâmrali, kulub ins gulukh azafr abnâmal ra Rayyadu Durin?” he said giving his brother an exasperated look

“You are everything maidens could wish for.” said Fíli dryly, rolling his eyes at his brothers well meaning narcissism.

“Then why no-?” he said, his face contorted in thought, ignorant as always to his lack of knowledge of women

“Do I know?” said Fíli shrugging and shaking his head fondly. Sometimes he forgot just how young and innocent his brother could be of the world.

“Adaddiya mud mashgul!” cried Kíli throwing his hands into the air

Fíli laughed at that, there was innocence and then there was being too self absorbed to see the bigger picture “Mê aktub ambâkhu mashag,” he said, picking up his fork at last and gesticulating with it “la’ mê ishrêgh aya id-zelaf binazlâf ra” he sighed forlornly, resting his hands on his heart once more “Diya mudtumêzu ikh mahadrulniu dai uglag itkeb, diya akmuth iklêt:” and he felt it rise up inside of him again as he sung out to the room, no longer ashamed of his feelings or trying to keep them quiet.

“Storm clouds may gather and stars will collide, but I will love you, till the end, of time.” He bellowed, the song making him feel instantly braver and more certain of himself, yet simultaneously acutely aware of his loss.

“Hurdu!” said Kíli, coming around to his brother’s side to rest a hand on his shoulder

“Anrân!”

“Binagyâdu!” laughed Kíli, the listing making him feel more at rights with the world

“Ini ashur but-”

“OH SHUT UP WILL YOU, YOU TUNELESS BADGERS!” bellowed Dís as she entered the room at last, resting her hands on her hips as she surveyed her children “Son’s on Durin my arse. There’s no need for your amateur dramatics this morning. Save your swan songs for later, you can wallow in your own self-pity then.” She huffed, sitting down at the head of the table, indicating that the boys should take their seats again as well.

“Birashagammi.” They chorused, feeling eight years old again and as though they’d been caught mucking about in the kitchens. Thorin and Bilbo entered the room, Thorin raising an eyebrow at the pair of them.

“I was not aware that you two were in quiet such high spirits. Has Gruna been putting whiskey in the tea again?”

“Ah, young love.” Smiled Bilbo “It makes fools of us all.” He said, sitting next to Dís, Thorin taking the seat opposite and sitting next to Kíli. Fíli was the only one left at his end of the table, the eyes of them all upon him.

“Who else are we waiting for?” asked Bilbo, counting the chairs

“Balin should be here soon, ah!” said Dís, waving their advisor in and indicating that he should sit next to Bibo

“Good Morning Balin.” Smiled Fíli

“Not much good about it so far Laddie.” He said, resting a large book upon the table

“Was it something I did?” asked Fíli casually, reaching for some of the porridge sitting in the middle of the table

“You know very well what you did.” Scoffed Thorin, folding his arms

“And whilst we’ve agreed not to punish you for it.” Said Dís, pursing her lips together

“We have agreed that you need to decide here and now, what you’re going to do.” Nodded Bilbo

“I simply cannot go against my word.” Said Thorin plainly “Our relations with the Blacklocks were strained enough before, but after this” he thought carefully for a moment seeking out the correct word “event; to go against my promise of a marriage now would bring chaos to the clans.”

“Aye,” said Balin nodding “There has to be a marriage. Now, the Blacklocks have a lot to gain from the match. More than we do.” He said, glancing to Dís who gave a reluctant nod “Though they might shout and yell, they do it because they think they might be loosing out already. They don’t know who this young lady is, and that is an advantage.”

“It is?” said Kíli, frowning “How come?”

“There were people from many kingdoms there, royals they hadn’t met before. For all they know, she could be the niece of King Théodon, or one of King Paligan’s many daughters.”

“Who I am grateful did not come.” Muttered Bilbo “Pippin’s bad enough. But all four of them.” He gave an involuntary shudder causing a ghost of a smile to cross Thorin’s face as he gently patted Bilbo’s hand.

“Needless to say, she could be just as Noble as Lady Dagní, if not more so. So we have that extra bargaining chip.” Continued Balin, ignoring Bilbo’s comments

Suddenly, a thought struck Fíli, that Sigrid was, indeed, as noble born as Dagní! She was the daughter of a lord and a descendent of royalty. He was about to say something about it when the reality of it crashed down once more. She might be as worthy in blood as Dagní, but she was still a servant in a poor household. The Blacklocks would still prove the better match in Balin’s eyes, and he might make Sigrid’s life more difficult in the process.

No. His marriage to Dagní was still what was best for the Kingdom, and Erebor always came first. He’d learnt that from a young age, after all, had Uncle Frerin not died for that very reason? Risking a dangerous journey in the hope of bettering relations with the other kingdoms? Sigrid had taught him that much as well, that a King’s duty was to his people and should never put their needs above his own. To think of the good his marriage would do for them all without the need for any suffering! So he and Dagní would never be in love, it didn’t mean they couldn’t be happy? Did it?

“So what do we do with this bargaining chip?” asked Bilbo

“We tell them that despite this suitor, this person who we all care for dearly and whom would benefit all of us in many ways.”

“Though never let them know what benefits.” Smiled Dís

“Indeed.” Nodded Balin “We allow them to fill in the blanks. Blacklocks are good at that.” He smiled, his eyes twinkling “So we just play it coy and allow them to burn themselves out. Then we move quickly before anything can change again. We get the engagement sorted for tomorrow. The clans are still here from the ball, we can host them for a few days more, so long as that’s alright with you Laddie?” he asked, looking to Fíli for the first time

“Yes. It’s, well we might as well get it over and done with.” He smiled weakly “So long as they’re still in agreement to the match.” Sigrid and he had agreed to never see each other again after the Ball, so what did it matter if their engagement happened two days from now or two years from now?

“Is there nothing else we can do?” asked Kíli pleadingly “He can’t marry Dagní! He just, he just can’t. It’s not fair!”

“Nobody said there was anything fair about any of this, Kíli.” Thorin said calmly “It is the price we must pay for our position as royals.”

“Your Uncle’s right Laddie, the only thing I can think of to change it is to offer them someone else.” He said shrewdly

“Who?” he asked eagerly

“You, dear.” Said Dís, her smile somewhere between endearing and belittling.

“Oh.” He replied, frowning “I suppose I could-”

“No.” said Fíli sternly “No, I will not have you do that for me, what about your own Lady of Starlight?”

“He is going nowhere near that woman again.” Growled Thorin

“Agreed. Perhaps marrying him to Dagní would be a way of fixing all the chaos that caused?” mused Balin

“No.” said Fíli more sternly “What Kíli and Tau-at, that, that girl did was for my benefit to allow Sigrid to get away without gaining too much notice. I will not punish either of them for my actions. If you force him into this I will never forgive any of you. I will run off to the woods and you will never heard from me again.”

“Very well then.” Sighed Dís “I suppose we should go and speak to your future in-laws.”

“Dagní doesn’t have a sibling for Kíli to wed?” asked Thorin, casually

“Don’t.” said Dís glaring at him, “One arranged marriage is bad enough, we’re never going through any of this ever again, understood?”

“Yes, it was only a suggestion.” Sniffed Thorin “What about that Firebeard girl from-”

Dís shot him another glare, one that would make a lesser man run in fear from its fiery rage. Thorin had endured years of it though, and so simply took a few steps backwards “No more arranged marriages. Understood.”

*

Thranduil’s mood was hard to place that day. A white fury lay behind his eyes, yet he behaved as calm as a summer breeze whilst moving about the house. He has decided that Tauriel’s punishment for her behaviour was to go out hunting and not come back until she had caught enough to make back all the money he’d spent on their costumes. This meant she would be gone for the next two days, but she had always been a resilient one so had picked up her sleeping pack and headed out that very morning.

“People in this town are hungry. They do not have our skills nor do they dare risk the King’s Forrest. At least if that slimy whale of a man was going to take our home, then at least he takes the money of the peasant folks as well.” He often referred to Masterson as such, which she completely understood, however he’d always shown so much disdain for the people of Dale that Sigrid wondered what her Father had ever seen in him beyond his money.

There must have been something there, something that meant her Father would have picked him above the many other people of wealth looking for a title. She didn’t remember much of the days they’d spent together before the fire. Thranduil had seemed as haughty and as cruel as he was now, though she did remember the tenderness with which he’d speak to Tilda and something of a loving look he held for her father.

Sigrid did not think Tauriel’s punishment all that atrocious a one, especially considering it meant that she got to spend time away from Thranduil and in the forest which she loved. It felt like more of a treat then anything else. Sigrid rolled her eyes at it all and filed it under further proof that Tauriel had been using Sigrid to get her own way all along.

Whilst she was gone, Thranduil had sent Sigrid into the town to replenish her supplies for dinner that night. When she asked if they were having anyone over, he simply smiled one of his snake like grins and told her that one should always be prepared for any and all visitors, refusing to say anything more on the topic.

Sigrid didn’t think much about it though, and took the opportunity to escape the house and spend a few peaceful hours walking through the fields that lead to the market.

The place was a buzz with the news of the Ball, everyone talking about who the mysterious woman could have been and about what the Mirkwood girl had been seen doing with the young Prince.

“Those two boys, they’ve no doubt had more girls then the rest of the men in the kingdom put together!” said Mrs Kenney, who was selling dried fruit and oats that day at the market.

“I ‘ear that Prince Kíli’s fathered five bastards already.” Whispered Angelica the butcher’s daughter. 

“Well, you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you.” Said her friend, Darshini nudging her in the ribs

“Get over.” Said Angelica in disgust “I ain’t done nothing of that sort and you know it! I’m not like that girl from up at the farm house.” She said, nose in the air “I’ve got manners I ‘ave.”

“Of course you do, Angelica.” Laughed the Mrs Kenney “And I suppose you got that mark on your neck from hitting it on a tree?”

Angelica blushed as red as the tomatoes in her basket. “People in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.” Said Mrs Kenney, wagging his finger “Lord Bard was a good man, that girl’s done bad by no mark, but no better than any of you two. If he were still around, Valar Be With Him, he’d give her a telling off and that’d be final.” She nodded, smiling at Sigrid as she came into view

“We was just talking ‘bout your Father Miss Sigrid.” She smiled warmly “How much of a good man he was.”

“That he was, Mrs Kenney.” She smiled sadly “And thank you for defending my Stepsister. I assure you, she is being punished for what she did in a way my Stepfather sees fitting.” Her lips thinned into a small line, as she could not quite hide the bitterness she felt at how easily Tauriel seemed to get away with everything she ever did, whilst Sigrid was always laboured with the worst of it.

Mrs Kenney must have mistaken her anger at Tauriel for anger at the girls next to her and smiled bravely on, attempting to change the subject “But that girl aye? Did you see her, the one who the prince ran after?”

“No, I didn’t I’m afraid, I wasn’t at the ball.”

“Weren’t you now?” said the woman curiously

“No. Stepfather wanted me to stay home and guard the house.”

“That’s not very fair now is it?” said Darshini, staring curiously at her “I heard a rumour that you was there.”

“No, I’m afraid I wasn’t.”

“Everyone’s talking about this girl who stole the princes’ heart.” Said Angellica, always keen to start up gossip “Nobody saw ‘er face, but ol’ Mr Turnlow swore ‘e knew ‘er from somewhere.”

“And who does Mr Turnlow think it was?” asked Sigrid, as calmly as she was able

“’E wouldn’t say.” She replied, eyes narrowing “A pity you couldn’t be there.”

“Yes, it was. Still, the prince is no doubt still going to marry Lady Dagní. So there’s not much on the matter is there? Whoever they are, he’s unlikely to see them again. The king wouldn’t approve of them anyway, probably.”

“So you don’t think it was that Princess Éowyn then? She’d be a better match to him than that Clanswoman surely?” asked Mrs Kenney

Sigrid laughed at that “Éowyn? Heavens no! Her and Faramir are all but engaged, I mean, um.” Said Sigrid catching herself “I have heard that Princess Éowyn is soon to be engaged to the Steward of Gondor’s youngest.”

“Oh aye? Well. That’s one theory gone then.” Laughed Mrs Kenney “What can I do you for anyway love?”

“Just some oats and some milk please.” Smiled Sigrid

“There you go,” said the market keeper, handing back her basket “Safe trip home now oh- and Sigrid, remind me again, what was your Da’s family emblem again?”

“A thrush.” She said without thinking

“Aye, I thought it might have been.” Smiled Mrs Kenney ruefully as she watched the young former lady head off back to the farmhouse, thinking carefully of the Raven she’d seen her with only a few days before.

*

The tension in the room was almost visible, the air almost shaking and quivering as the rage and fury of the Blacklocks met with the mountain like stillness from the Longbeards. Neither party said anything, for neither party had to at this point. They were simply feeling one another out from opposite ends of the table. Fíli and Dagní sat opposite each other in the centre whilst their guardians stood century behind them. Balin (along with Ori, his scribe) and Bilbo sat at opposite ends of the table, there to act as a neutral.

“So,” said Balin, after checking that Ori had everything she needed “I suppose we best begin.” He smiled warmly at the two families, but only Fíli smiled back. Dís and Unna seemed to be stuck in a staring match whilst Dufrin and Thorin were still squaring their shoulders and puffing up their chests in a display of strength.

“Can’t we just get on with this.” Sighed Dagní “I thought everything had already been decided, do we really ‘ave to go through all of this crap again?”

“Of course we do. They’ve changed the parameters by his actions.” Said Lord Dufin, pointing angrily at Fíli, Thorin snorting menacingly as he did so.

“I do not see how my Son has changed anything at all.” Said Dís, holding her head high “He has not dishonoured your daughter in anyway. They were not engaged at the time and no formal announcement had been made.”

“No dishonour?” snorted Lady Unna “There was plenty of dishonour in his actions. Running after a simple member of the commonfolk like that, screeching and howling for her. There’s no honour in it at all! Plus, using our language with that hussy; in broad daylight! To speak it to a fellow Clansman in public is one thing, but to use it with an outsider.” She shook her head in shock “It’s an outrage.”

“It is no such an outrage surely?” said Kíli as calmly as he could “Our language isn’t as secret as it used to be, the Clans are not hunted as we once were – surely we should be sharing it with the people of our lands?”

“Well we all know how much you would wish to share with them.” Smirked Lord Dufin “Very cosy with that Mirkwood girl, weren’t you?” he said the word as though it were a poison that left a foul taste in his mouth.

“Aye, if his brother’s behaviour is anything to go by, I’m afraid we can’t trust the prince at all. One fallen rock foretells of an avalanche, after all.” Nodded Lady Unna

“And sometimes it is just something brought down by a mere breeze.” Responded Dís calmly “We are not here to talk of my youngest though, he is no concern of yours, we are here to talk of Crowned Prince Fíli and the Lady Dagní.”

“Agreed.” Said Balin nodding. “The actions of Prince Kíli have no baring on the situation we find ourselves in.”

“And what situation is that, Master Balin?” asked Lady Unna, “As far as I can see they’ve called off the engagement and yet refuse to pay the fee for it!”

“No fee was agreed.” Snapped Thorin “Nothing has been signed, my eldest nephew has done nothing to go against it.”

“He was carrying on with another woman! Behind everyone’s back!”

“Where is your proof of that?” huffed Thorin “There has been no secrecy here.”

“He was wearing a mask! Nobody knew who he was until it slipped!”

“In fairness Dad, it was a masquerade. We was all wearing ‘em.” Shrugged Dagní “It’s your fault if you didn’t recognise ‘im. Should’a been paying more attention to the Prince than to your tankard.”

Fíli smiled at her in thanks and she gave him a small wink back. He was glad to see that she was on his side at least. Or, well, seemed to be not as reluctant in the proceedings as her parents were.

“He named her Amrâlimê!” said Lady Unna in disgust “How is that not a sign that he would betray Dagní? That you were already courting some other woman.”

“We said when we began that there was to be no concubines or courtesans in this marriage! Any children of the Prince’s will be by Dagní alone.”

Ori looked slightly pale as she jotted that down, and Kíli looked like he didn’t know if he wanted to throw up or burst out laughing at the way Fíli’s face dropped like a stone and Dagní’s flushed red with contained rage.

“I assure you.” Said Fíli stiffly “That I value your daughter too much to ever do such a thing, as I also value myself.”

“Aye, me too.” Nodded Lady Daní

“Well then, nice to know that part is settled.” Smiled weakly Bilbo, “Fíli won’t be getting any young girls pregnant and Dagní won’t be, um, how to phrase it, er, pulling a Lady Proudfoot we used to say back home but, um.” He floundered slightly and tapped his pen lightly on the table as he noticed the Thorin’s eyebrows rise higher and higher and Dís’ smirk get wider. The Blacklocks looked as though they didn’t know how to react to such a brazen statement.

Dagní, on the other hand, just let out a deep chuckle “You’re a funny lot you Shirefolk. All your weird manners and euthomisms. ‘Ow can yous keep up with ‘em all?”

“We try our best.” Smiled Bilbo

“Aye, I’m sure you do. I won’t be going around shagging the gamekeeper, or anyone else for that matter. You can have my word on that one.” She smirked and Fíli found himself relaxing again. Teasing Bilbo was a pass time he knew his mother had partaken in often, and it was certainly something he liked to do with Gimli and Kíli. He could tell her words were not malicious and once more he felt himself at ease. There were far worse people who could be forced into marrying, he reasoned.

“Moving on then-” began Balin

“Wait just one minute!” said Lord Dufin, coming back to himself once more “You still haven’t told us who this woman is!”

“Aye.” Agreed his wife “Who is she? How do we know she’s not going to be coming back to stir up trouble?”

“The young lady in question is very dear to all our hearts.” Said Kíli defensively

“Ha! See!” declared Lord Dufin triumphantly, though Lady Unna elbowed him in the ribs, a shadow of concern crossing over her face

“I will not lie, a match with her would benefit many of us.” Nodded Dís

“It would indeed.” Grunted Thorin

“Actually,” said Dís casually “Would it perhaps not benefit us more so than the current one?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Mused Thorin “It’s to be considered for sure. If Lady Unna and Lord Dufin have their doubts already over Fíli’s intentions….”

“No!” said Lady Unna “We’re fine. We understand. He’s given his word to be honourable to our Dagní and we’ll take him on that word. No real harm done.”

“Grand.” Smiled Balin, opening up his book of figures “Shall we get to work on drawing up the contract then?”

Fíli let out a sigh of relief. He hadn’t messed things up too much then.

The debate continued for the next couple of hours, with Dagní and Fíli making small suggestions every now and then in terms of their living arrangements and making it quite clear that they did not want to have anything put down in writing about how many heirs they would be required to produce.

“But we need to be reassured that there will be children.” Huffed Lady Unna

“And we need to know that they’ll be raised as Longbeards first!” Nodded Dís

“Blacklocks!” growled Lord Dufin

“Longbeards.” Hissed Thorin

“I don’t care,” said Fíli, quite shrilly “what they are raised as can we please not talk about us having kids just yet!”

“Agreed!” said Dagní forcefully “’Amad, ‘Adad, I love you but you need to stop fucking insisting on Grandchildren for fucks sake.” She groaned, “It is not a problem that concerns you. I’m marrying this Longbeard-Firebeard mongral so as you can actually talk to the Firebeards without having an aneurism, so let us decide in our time just how many sprogs we’ll pop out when the time inevitable comes. Either way, they’ll be mix-breeds just like him, so you better deal with it.” She sounded incredibly resistant to the idea of having any children at all, and Fíli had to admit, the concept of having children with Dagní was not a pleasant one under any circumstances.

Eventually, however, an agreement was met with and they shook hands, all be it rather too forcefully for what was meant to be a peaceful agreement, and went their own separate ways.

Dagní hung back from the crowd and pulled Fíli into a corner

“Yes, Kal’yasathê?” asked Fíli sighing “What can I do for you now, do you want to inform me yet again how much you do not love me?”

“Shut up you daft git.” She rolled her eyes “I don’t love you, but I do like you well enough, for a skinny beardless bimbo swordsman.” She said, punching his arm in what Fíli assumed was meant to be an affectionate manner.

“I’m just checking that you’re okay with all this. I mean, that girl, you seemed pretty close to her. You sure you don’t want to go off with her instead of me? I won’t be offended, trust me.”

“Yes, but your family would be. I’m more scared of them than I am of you. Your Mum looks like she could pull a tree out of the ground and snap it in half.”

“Well, not sure about pull it out of the ground but I’ve seen her snap a few in her time.” Mused Dagní

“Well that’s lovely to know.” Smiled Fíli “I wouldn’t want to have a false impression of her now would I?”

“She’d get over it soon enough if you broke it off.” Shrugged Dagní “She and Dad are a nightmare but they ain’t completely evil.”

“No, they’d just try and milk us for all we were worth and refuse to trade with us and start a clan wide war.” Said Fíli simply

“Aye. That they might.” Said Dagní sighing

“I’m grateful for your understanding Dagní, and I am hopeful that maybe one day we can be friends, but I am determined to go through with this. For the good of my people.” He looked down at his feet and gave out a sad sigh “Even if it does mean that I’ll miss her every day of my entire life, and possibly never be as happy as I was on that night when she kissed me…” he tailed off, not wanting to give away too much information. He didn’t want to give up too much information, even if Dagní felt like one of the good guys, she was still a Blacklock.

“That’s incredibly sickening of you.” Said Dagní raising an eyebrow “Complete romantic crap and rainbows coming out your arse. You must love your nation a lot to give up on something you’re that head over heels for.”

“My country is my family.” He shrugged “I can’t let them down. It’s the price of being royal, surely you understand that?”

“Yeah.” Nodded Dagní “I do a bit. Come on.” She said, grabbing him by the arm “Time we go and announce when we’re going to get engaged so as everyone can fawn over us like the fucking idiots they are.”

And so it was announced later that day, to the whole kingdom and to all the clans, that in two days time - just before the sunset, Crowned Prince Fíli of Erebor and future Chieftain of Clan Longbeard would be formally engaged to Lady Dagní, future Chieftain of Clan Blacklock.

This message spread across the kingdoms like wild fire, with people from all corners arriving at all times of the day to make sure they could attend the ceremony.

Even now, trade seemed to have boosted and people were already starting to make plans on when they could leave for the Orocani to begin their buisnisses there.

Fíli saw this hive of activity and the joyfulness it bought to his people and grinned sadly. He was right. This really was the right thing to do for his people. His Uncle would be proud of him, he though, and so would Sigrid.

*

“Have you heard the gossip yet, Sigrid?” asked Thranduil as she served him his lunch.

“What gossip is that then Stepfather?”

“Well, other than that your Stepsister has been whoring herself out to royalty”

“Father!” cried Legolas, angrily “I agree Tauriel showed us all up and should not have disobeyed your orders, but you should not use such words to describe her. It was a kiss, nothing more.”

“Very well then, your Stepsister, Sigrid, has been spotted with Prince Kíli in an unbecoming way in an incredibly public fashion, giving the no doubt false impression that she is a woman of low moral standing. Better, Legolas?” he asked, looking inquisitively at his son

Legolas hummed angrily but went back to drinking his tea quietly, allowing Thranduil to continue “There was a woman at the ball you see, a mysterious woman that nobody knows anything about, but whom has captured the heart of the Crowned Prince with her witch like ways.” He chuckled to himself and gave her a wolfish grin

“To think, all those people there and not one of them knew who she was!”

“Well, isn’t that something then?” smiled Sigrid

“Of course, it’s all gone to pot for the young woman.”

“How so?” she asked calmly

“The boy’s to be formally engaged to some clanswoman tomorrow evening. So she’ll be completely out of luck. Maybe that’s why she ran off like that with only one shoe.” He mused carefully “He wanted one last shag before he got married.”

“Prince Fíli is not like that.” Snapped Sigrid, her knuckles going white as she clung to the water jug in her hands.

“Oh? And how would you know?”

“Because, because I know what they say in the town. I’ve met with people who work at the castle, , and they all say that he is a kind and noble gentlemen.” She nodded forcefully “You shouldn’t speak so ill of him, Stepfather. It’s not right.”

“Well, if you say so.” He shrugged casually “I had no idea you were such a royalist all of a sudden. You’ve never spoken so highly of them before.”

“If you’ll excuse me, Stepfather.” She said briskly “I’ve got some scones in the oven I need to get out.” She gave him a quick bob and rushed off to the kitchen to regain her breath once more. She hated him. She hated him so much.

She’d get away one day. She’d leave this horrible place and never return. Go to Gondor or Rohan or even live in the forest with Arwen and Aragorn. She could do it, they’d understand, they’d take her in she knew they would! Yet, she felt as though she couldn’t leave this house. Couldn’t leave this connection she felt to her homeland. Whilst she was not the Lady of Dale in name, she still felt a connection to the lands and their people, which she could not easily give up.

Thranduil had her trapped and he knew it. She heaved a deep breath and went about taking the scones out of the oven and removing the bread dough from the cupboard where it had been proving. It would ruin it if she kneed it anymore than she already had, but she needed something to take her anger out on. 

“Why are you behaving in this way Father?” said Legolas, accusingly “What do you have planned?”

“Nothing that we haven’t spoken about before Son.” He replied simply, dabbing at his face with a napkin “If you’ll excuse me, I have a few errands I need to run before this evening.”

Legolas frowned slightly as Thranduil got up and left. He knew his father was up to something, though he really had no idea what it was. His treatment of Sigrid was to be expected and quite frankly she had no right to be at the Ball in the first place so she really should have seen it all coming, even if he did perhaps feel a little ashamed at how dramatic their actions had been.

But Thranduil had never been this so outwardly cruel to Tauriel before. He’d always been kind and compassionate towards her, taking her in when she was orphaned during the same war that took his mother from him. She was like a sister to Legolas and he’d always assumed she was like a daughter to Thradnuil. Legolas could feel in the air that something was coming, though he had no idea what.

Later that evening, Sigrid found herself preparing for a dinner with Smaug. Tauriel had yet to return from her hunt so it was just Sigrid around to entertain him as a Lady of the Household should. She’d tried to create a menu that would, once again, leave her alone in the kitchens for as long as possible, yet this time Thranduil had insisted on something simple that would mean she could spend as much time as possible with their guest.

It was the worst consolation prize to the news of her True Love’s engagement that any person could wish for. Instead of the safe loving embrace of Fíli she would have to content herself with being under the glaring eye of Smaug as his blackened teeth grazed the back of her hand.

She felt so much more on display that evening, with Smaug contemplating her much more like a creature he was deciding if he could devour or not. At one point, Sigrid was horrified to discover that she had been left alone with the man. Thranduil had gone off to fetch a book and taken Legolas with him.

“So, my Darling.” Grinned Smaug “Did you enjoy the Ball?”

“I was unable to attend, Sir.” Said Sigrid, staying as far away from him as she could. “Stepfather needed me here to guard the house you see.”

“Funny.” Said the beast, cocking his head to one side “My spies tell me that you were spotted coming from that direction just past midnight. Some say you were sitting on a pumpkin in your garden, others swear they saw you running away dressed as a Thrush.”

“They must have been mistaken.” Said Sigrid standing her ground.

“So they must have been.” He smiled “Such a shame. I’d have loved to have seen you dressed as such. Maybe one day I shall?”

“Perhaps so, Sir.”

“You know, my offer still stands, you are welcome to come to my home any time you wish. Under any name you wish.”

“Thank you, Sir, it is appreciated.”

“I offer you this chance freely, you see. As a gentlemen should.”

“I can see that, Sir, and I am flattered, but I am not yet ready to leave my home, I hope you understand that.”

“Perhaps I do.” He said shrewdly “Perhaps, in the future, I might be less understanding.”

“I hope I have not offended you in any way…” began Sigrid “It was just an offer of help after all…” she said hopefully

“Help in anyway I can, yes. I did not mention marriage. Of course though, should you wish to marry me, I would always be ever so grateful to you. Ever so loving and kind.” He said, taking a step forward and stroking a nail down the soft curve of her face, his eyes raking down her body with a predatory gaze “Oh so kind and soft. Unless you asked for it otherwise.” He took a step closer towards her and Sigrid tried her best to back away from him, but found herself pressed in against the back of the wall on the far side of the door.

“Marry me Sigrid. Do it. Think of everything I can offer you. My money, my power, all I poses I would shower upon you. I would treasure you above everything else I own. The jewel in my collection, decorated with gold and diamonds beyond measure.”

“No.” said Sigrid firmly “Mr Smaug, I think you have been drinking a bit too much. Now please, let me go.”

Smaug’s hand snapped out to grab her wrist, his yellowed nails digging into her “Do not do this Sigrid, do not turn me away. You will not get an offer like this again, believe me. You are but a simple servant, you’ll never find someone as good as I am who will make an honest woman out of you.” He bent his mouth down as if to kiss her, his mouth open like a gaping black hole descending upon her, his tongue sticking out like a knife.

“I said No!” said Sigrid more forcibly; pushing him away from her and making him stagger backwards, almost dropping to the floor.

There was a cough at the door, and Sigrid had never been so pleased to see Legolas in all her life.

“Stepbrother!” she cried ducking under Smaug’s arm and rushing towards him “Did you find what you were looking for?”

“I’m not disturbing anything am I?” he asked, looking between the pair of them

“No!” said Sigrid firmly “Certainly not.” She brushed her clothes down and held tightly onto him as calmly as she could, earning a raised eyebrow from him. It had been a long time since she’d done anything of the sort off of her own accord, after all.

“My intentions are always honourable.” Bowed Mr Smaug, and the evening went on relatively as it had before, with no further mention of what had transpired.

As Sigrid curled herself up tight in her bed that night, she wished more than ever that Fíli had been there. Tucked up next to her and telling her she’d be alight, that she was safe with him. She could defend herself; she’d proven that tonight, but sometimes it was good to know that someone else was there to guard you whilst you slept.

She regretted her earlier thoughts against Tauriel. She wished she’d listened to her. Thranduil must have known Smaug was going to propose to her tonight, he must have. What the Lizard had said worried her as well, how had he known about the pumpkin and the dress, and had he told Thranduil? Or had it been Thranduil who’d told him?

She lay awake all night, not daring to close her eyes until finally, just before the dawn, sleep claimed her and dragged her into a dark nightmare of dragons covered in liquid gold, burning all things in sight.

Her dream was so dark and so vivid, that she did not notice the hand that removed the slipper from behind her pillow.

*

“See Gandalf!” gestured Saruman exasperatingly at the palantir “See what you have done! Your actions have bought nothing but misery to these people.”

“Oh I don’t know,” said Gandalf thoughtfully scratching his beard “I think things seem to be going quite well.”

“There’s been an international incident, three broken hearts, one as-good-as banished daughter and a permanent family rift in the making! Plus what that man is planning next is completely-”

“Yes but look, see, isn’t the Shire and Erebor getting along so much better now?” smiled Gandalf, looking at the future timelines admiringly

“Gandalf.” Growled Saruman “One small improvement does not make a complete success. I told you not to interfere!”

“Oh it’ll work out well enough, trust me Lord Saruman.” Smiled Gandalf brightly

“I am not sure I can ever trust you again.” He said, narrowing his eyes.

“Well, then trust in the Lady Galadriel.” Said Gandalf tersely “You wouldn’t dismiss her now would you? She’s not yet finished with her own ward.”

Saruman gave out an exasperated huff. It was true, he did trust in the Lady of the Light’s wisdom. However, he’d never admit to Gandalf that he was right about that at least. He did not see how things could get better, he really did not.

Yet he knew that where there is love, there is always hope, and if it was one thing the mortals knew more about than he, it was love.

Chapter Text

The day of one’s betrothal is meant to be a happy one. One is meant to wake up with a sense of anticipation at the idea of announcing your love to the rest of the clans and marking the start of the rest of your lives together, having someone to hold each night and to share in all your troubles. It was meant to be second in importance only to your wedding day, and possibly the birth of your first child. But to Fíli, it felt like the anticipation of going into battle for the first time. He knew it was the right and fair thing to do, but he was still pledging himself to a life without love.

So it was with great reluctance that Fíli pulled himself out of bed that morning and went about his daily routine. The Grandfather Clock outside his room echoed down the hall and acted almost as his own personal reminder of his impending doom. He’d gone looking for Rek in the tower to ask her about what had happened the night of the Ball, but Rip informed him that he had not seen his sister at all these past few days, and Fíli left feeling more miserable than ever.

Even breakfast was a sombre affair; everyone being particularly more polite than usual. Fíli could tell that his mother hadn’t quite forgiven Thorin yet as she by-passed him on every question, always asking Bilbo to pass her the sugar or the sultanas rather than her brother, even though they sat directly in front of him.

It reminded Fíli of the first breakfast they’d shared after Frerin’s death. For the first few days, no one had left their rooms. Eventually they reluctantly accepted that he would never be present at the table again.

“I suppose it won’t be long now until Dagní begins to join us for breakfast,” said Kíli in a reluctant, flat voice.

“She will spend most of the betrothal at the Orocarni, but yes, a few months before she will move into the palace," nodded Thorin sadly.

“I do love a wedding though,” said Bilbo, in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Everyone dressed smartly in bright colours, and the couple wearing flower crowns, with confetti and bunting everywhere. Plus there’s the cake, and the banquet afterwards with everyone dancing merrily. No doubt you’ll be wearing a rather large and splendid hat, Dís?” He grinned.

“That’s not entirely how our weddings work, Bilbo,” smiled Dís forlornly.

“Oh?”

“Everyone wears the colour of their clan, and it’s a very serious event. The vows are made in khuzdul, and it takes a long time for the final contracts to be read allowed for everyone to hear. It can be quite boring at times.”

“Ah,” said Bilbo, his face dropping slightly. “Still, the party afterwards must be good fun? If it’s one thing I can remember from my time spent here as Ambassador, it’s that you all love an excuse for a party!”

“I suspect the Blacklocks will be less keen on the dancing element, and more insistent on lots of toasts,” corrected Thorin. “Dependent on who is giving those, they can be just as tiresome.”

“Well then, I suggest Kíli gets a head start on his so as he can make it extra embarrassing!” Bilbo said with a smile.

“I doubt they’ll let me give a speech,” sighed Kíli dejectedly. “Not after what happened at the Ball. It’ll be Thorin or Gimli or someone.” He vaguely corrected.

“Ah. Well. I’m sure it’ll be more fun than you’re all making it out to be.”

“It’s more fun when the couple are actually in love,” muttered Dís darkly.

*

“No, Bain come back!” yelled Sigrid as she woke with a start, sweat all over her back and panic in her heart. She could see him now: clambering out of the boat to go to her Da on the top of the clock tower. The dragon was here; he was going to burn them to ashes, and there was nothing she could do as the strong arms of a stranger held her back.

As she finally took in her surroundings, she realised that it had all been a dream. She was sitting up in her bed, not on a rickety wooden boat. There wasn’t any fire; just the stream of sunlight coming through the window. Dragons didn’t exist outside of children’s stories, and Bain was, he was… The image of that night flashed before her eyes. Bain was already dead. He’d already escaped her grasp to go and rescue their Da from where he was surely already burning to death.

She froze for a moment, remembering every second of that night. The heat of the flames on her skin contrasting with the chill of that tragic evening. The shouts of the staff as they called for aid, mingled with the crackling and creaking of the mansion as it collapsed before her very eyes.

She took several deep breaths and eventually came back round to herself, wiping the tears away from her eyes. She clambered out of bed, concentrating on the cold of the floor upon her bare feet rather than the memory of the flames, and went about getting dressed. She glanced automatically at the calendar by her wardrobe and a new wave of sadness washed over her.

Today was the day he was getting engaged.

She knew it was coming. Knew that they weren’t going to be together, but the pain was all anew when she realised that it would be Dagní who woke up with him each morning. Dagní who would be kissed and cuddled after a nightmare. Dagní who would get to spend time with his family and tease him with them. Dagní who would nurse him when he was ill, and play with their children in the forest. Dagní who would help bring peace to the clans and prosperity to the land.

She trudged into the kitchen and set the water to boil. It was going to be a long and tiresome day, and if she was going to have even a chance of being able to cope with it, she was going to need a lot more tea.

*

Throughout the day, various dignitaries who had not been present at the Ball began to arrive. News quickly spread that there would be a Betrothal of importance taking place. It was always surprising how complaints of a journey being far too long to ever even conceive of being taken, suddenly only seemed to be half a day’s ride away.

The arrival of Queen Vör of the Orocarni and her Spouse was the nail in the coffin for Fíli. He suddenly felt the real gravity of the situation. Whilst the Queen would never have left her kingdom for his birthday, the tying of two clans from separate kingdoms was most certainly worthy of her attention.

“Your Majesty," greeted Fíli, bowing deeply after Thorin had introduced him.

“Your Highness,” she replied with a curt nod of her head. She was a fierce-looking woman with penetrating green eyes, a hawk-like nose and hair the colour of iron. She surveyed him curiously for a moment, saying nothing, and seemed to get enjoyment out of watching him squirm in front of her.

“You must be looking forward to your engagement," she said at last, a ghost of a smile on her face. “I remember my own quite well. It was a very enjoyable, and long-awaited day. Your own seems to have happened so suddenly though, I feared we wouldn't make it in time.”

“Well, Mam, Lady Dagní and I saw little point in dragging things out for too long when the pair of us were already so willing to proceed with matters.”

“You must already care for one another a great deal then,” she replied, her gaze flicking to where Dagní stood and conversed with some of the Broadbeam Nobles who’d been at the Ball.

“I have the upmost respect for her, Mam. She is a fine young woman, and I will be grateful to call her my wife.”

“Will be?” asked the Queen, jumping on his turn of phrase. “Surely you are already?”

“Already what?”

“Grateful. Or is the joining of your clans not glad tidings in your book? Or is it, perhaps, that you are ungrateful that it is Dagní who you are betrothed to? Is this not a time of celebration for you both?”

“I assure you, your Majesty,” began Fíli, squaring his shoulders. “I care for Dagní a great deal, despite our short acquaintance, and am thankful indeed that it is her my Uncle has chosen for me to marry.”

A triumphant expression came over Queen Vör’s face at that and Fíli felt a surge of panic as he tried to figure out what he’d said that was wrong. Surely everyone knew it was an arranged marriage? It was no secret, so why did she look as though she’d just bested everyone in a game of wits?

“Excuse my wife,” sighed the Queen’s spouse, Consort Odin, patting Vör’s arm gently. “She is just teasing you in her own way. Like all of us, we’ve heard the rumours of the Mysterious Thrush and she’s simply trying to get a rise out of you. Think nothing of it, young Prince.”

They  leaned closer to whisper in Fíli’s ear: “You’re doing a fine job on the diplomatic front, but if you want to convince people you’re happy, you might want to work on that smile.” They nudged Fíli in the side.

“Now, where is that Mother of yours?” they smiled briskly. “I do believe she still owes me money from the last time we visited!”

“Your mother should know better than to bet against Odin,” smiled Vör indulgently.

“People have said the same about ‘Amad," said Fíli, shrewdly. “Though, if memory serves correctly, I believe you still owe her the dress you were wearing at last year’s Summer Ball.”

Vör’s smiled broadly at last and gave out a deep chuckle. “You are quite right, young prince. I think it best to stay away from the both of them. If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to have a word with your future Bride.” She gave him a quick nod and stomped off to speak to Dagní. Stonefoot by name, and stone foot by nature afterall.

Fíli heaved a sigh and let all the tension out of him. Queen Vör, famous for not liking anyone, seemed to have given him her approval-- even if it was only to try and get more information regarding the (entirely true) rumours about the woman at the Ball.

“Don’t worry, Fee,” smiled Thorin kindly. “Just three more hours, and it’ll all be signed for, and we won’t have to deal with any of them again for the next year or so.”

Three more hours.

Fíli couldn’t decide if that was something to be thankful for, or not. Either way, Thorin was right. In three hours he would not have anything more to worry about over the legal matters, and a year to come to terms with the prospect of his marriage.

*

Sigrid looked up at the clock in the kitchen and wondered how long it would be until Fíli was engaged. Could he be signing the contract right now, even? Was he already engaged? What was he thinking of right now? Was he happy or sad or angry…

She shook her head in an effort for the thoughts to leave her, but found that they stuck regardless. If someone had told her two months ago that all this was going to happen, she’d have called them an idiot and assumed that they’d been reading too many romance novels whilst drinking far too much wine.

Yet here she was: spending all her time thinking over a boy she’d only known a few weeks, and was already completely and truly in love with. Being a practical person, she’d always assumed that such things were impossible and yet here were the facts laid before her. She felt so conflicted over her wishes for him right now.

On the one hand, she wanted him to be happy and to move on with his life so he could grow to be the best King Erebor had ever known, and finally bring peace and order amongst the Clans. She hoped that Dagní would make as fine a Queen as everyone seemed to think she would, and that her and Fíli would find their own form of love and respect. And of course, for their future children to be happy and healthy.

Yet a small part of her wanted the opposite to happen. It wanted him to miss her everyday and for Dagní to turn out to be a terrible Queen whom everyone hated. For the Clans to find something else to argue about, and Fíli to come riding back to beg her to become his true Queen in the wake of the chaos his marriage had caused. She would take him back, of course, for she too would be suffering without him, but she’d make sure he felt guilty about pushing her away in the first place--for a little while, at least.

This voice was not her own though. It was the voice of bitterness that so often accompanied a broken heart, and it was a voice that was quickly dispelled with a quiet humming of their song. Still, she worried that the voice would never leave. She had to hope it would though, otherwise she feared she might just become too much like Thranduil for her own good.

After all, had he himself not once been in love? He had had a son, after all, and she’d often heard Legolas speak fondly of his mother. She’d never really understood where Thranduil had been coming from all these years, and where his bitterness towards others came from, including his behaviour towards his own children. He’d seemed so much nicer when he was with Da, though at the time she’d assumed it had all been for show. Yet somehow, knowing the hurt that came with losing someone you loved, perhaps it had changed him more than she’d ever thought possible. Could it be that somewhere there was a crumb of decency in him?

She let out a snort at the idea. No, whatever passed for compassion in Thranduil had long since gone away, especially if his recent behaviour towards Tauriel was anything to go by. She began to wonder if she’d ever see her Stepsister again. She would not blame her for taking the opportunity to run away, even if it would yet again be a sign that she did care more for herself than for others.

*

Fíli looked at himself in the mirror, tugging nervously at his clothes. Instead of the regal court attire worn throughout Arda, he was wearing the traditional dress of the clans. Whilst his thick woolen kilt and sash were in the midnight blue and silver colours of the Longbeards, he wore a burnished copper brooch on his shoulder decorated with tiny rubies and dots of amber. It had once belonged to his father and had been given to him after he’d died.

Fíli wanted to have something of his with him today, something that would mean he was keeping him close, and also to prove to the court that the Blacklocks were finally trying to make peace with the Firebeards. Unless specified in a marriage contract, Clan titles always went down the female line, but that did not mean that his Father’s Clan was forgotten to him.

“You look great,” grinned Kíli, slipping into his room uninvited. “Like one of the heroes of old.”

“I don’t feel like it,” Fíli muttered morosely.

“Na, course you are,” assured his brother, coming closer to him and clapping his shoulder in passing. “You might not be going into battle, but you’re putting the needs of your kingdom and your family above your own – and if that’s not stupidly heroic, then I don’t know what is.” He laughed.

Fíli rolled his eyes. “What do you want, Kee?”

“Who says I want anything? Can’t I just come in and annoy you without purpose anymore?”

Fíli chuckled and knocked against him with his shoulder. “One day you’ll learn that there are more important things in life than teasing me.”

“One day you’ll learn that teasing has a lot more to it than just fulfilling the duties of being the youngest.”

“Learn that one from ‘Amad did you?”

“Well she is the expert,” he shrugged.

Fíli looked at his brother fondly for a moment. He was marrying Dagní as much for Kíli’s sake as anyone else’s. He couldn’t bare to think of his reckless little brother being strong armed into an arranged marriage with someone he’d never met, and to see his brother’s smile disappear from his face completely.

“Come on you, sit. Let me redo your braids, they’ve fallen out again," smiled Fíli, steering him towards his dressing table.

“Oh, come on, Fee! I’m not a child anymore--I can do them myself, it’ll take like five – ow!” he said as Fíli tugged at his hair to get him to be quiet.

“You’re not of age yet, I should know. And it’s either me, mum or Frigg who’ll end up doing them otherwise, and who would you prefer?”

“Good point. Carry on then.”

Fíli smiled as he went about brushing his brother’s hair with a comb and working the intricate patterns into his braids. Kíli wore fewer than himself, being younger and only the second heir, but still, the plaits required a skill that Kíli had never seemed to possess.

“One day you’ll have to find someone else to do this for you,” smiled Fíli as he stuck his hand out, silently requesting for the beads to tie them off with. Just as Fíli had been left his Father’s broach, Kíli had been left his beads, and it was with great care and delicacy that he slipped them on.

“Oh Mum and Frigg will live far beyond you or I,” joked Kíli. “Though, I guess the next set you’ll be putting in will be Dagní’s at the wedding…” he trailed off.

“I suppose so,” shrugged Fíli, trying not to think of putting them in Sigrid’s hair instead.

“It’s not too late you know,” said Kíli, twisting round on the stool to stare up at his big brother with large doe eyes. “She won’t mind, and it’s not like the Blacklocks can actually kill you.”

“They can try though," said Fíli ruefully.

“No, I’m serious Fee, just--”

“Oh Nadadith,” sighed Fíli fondly. “You’re so young, and you don’t even realise it.”

“Hey! I already told you: I’m not a child!” protested Kíli, playfully punching his brother on the arm.

“The law says differently Nadadith," he laughed, twisting his brother back round to finish tying off his braids.

“There’s nothing I can say to convince you to stop with all this, is there?” asked Kíli dejectedly.

“No," Fíli confirmed sadly. “But it’s okay. Just make sure you marry for love, yeah?” he smiled at Kíli through the mirror. “Like that Mirkwood girl you’re so obsessed with.”

“I wish," sighed Kíli forlornly as a dreamy expression spread over his face.

“Come on, up you get Nad’,” chuckled Fíli. “Time to get going, I think.”

“If you want to run for it at any moment, just give me a signal and I’ll get you out of there, okay? Gimli and I already have a plan in place," Kíli grinned wickedly.

“Whatever it is, I don’t want to know.” Fíli laughed, throwing an arm around his brother, and walking down the corridor towards their mother’s dressing room for their final debriefing before the ceremony.

*

There was a strange atmosphere in the house that day, and Sigrid wasn’t entirely sure what to put it down to. Her own melancholy made sense, but there was something more to it that didn’t quite fit. Usually, Legolas would be surprisingly chipper about everything as he went about his routine, but today he seemed almost morose. Perhaps he was simply missing his sister?

“Did she not leave you a note?” asked Sigrid as she collected his washing.

“Who?” he asked, frowning in confusion.

“Tauriel.”

“Ah. No, Tauriel did not leave me a note, she was supposed to be back yesterday--but I suppose she must have been delayed. No doubt she’s brought down a stag too big to carry.” He smirked slightly. “She was always trying to do too much. Even when she was a little girl – insisting she could do anything I could do ten times better.”

“Well, in fairness, she is the better hunter out of the two of you,” shrugged Sigrid. She might not be all that happy with Tauriel, but it didn’t mean she now preferred Legolas.

“True," agreed her stepbrother with a nod. “But who can read, dance and sing better than me?”

“Nobody, I’m sure," replied Sigrid dryly, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes with all the might she had in her. “So if you’re not missing Tauriel, then why are you so…” she gestured at him where he lay on his bed, arms crossed behind his head and starting at the ceiling.

“Father is keeping secrets from me. I’m aware that there are always secrets that must remain so, and that Father has a great many – but he does usually confide in me. Yet he is simply refusing to tell me anything." He sat up suddenly. “Did you know he didn’t even tell me Mr. Smaug would be visiting us today? I only found out when his messenger came by to drop off a letter for him!"

“Mr. Smaug? Again? But, but he was only here the other day!” She said, trying her best to keep herself calm and failing.

“Yes, I know,” mused Legolas, oblivious as always. “We’ve nothing new to offer him, so I don’t know why he’s coming. Perhaps he simply wishes to see you," he said, eyes twinkling. “I saw the way he was with you--very affectionate.”

Sigrid gaped at him, clutching the washing tightly in her hands. “I assure you, Stepbrother, I do not return those affections. His affections are not wanted. Ever. If I could, I would have him arrested for his crimes, and locked up in a tower forever more.”

Legolas arched an eyebrow at her. “I apologise Sigrid, I was only teasing. I did not mean to cause you upset.”

Sigrid let out a snort of laughter. “Well, this really has been a month for firsts," she replied sarcastically, turning her back on him and descending the stairs to the kitchen. “To apologise for teasing when he ripped my mother’s dress from me," she mumbled, shaking her head disbelievingly.

Legolas frowned after her. For once in his life, he actually thought about everything he’d witnessed and done. Then finally, he put things together.

“Oh.” He said, sitting down on the side of the bed. “Oh dear. I have messed up rather, haven’t I, Naneth?”

Smaug would be there in ten minutes. He could only hope he was horrifically wrong about their Father’s intentions.

*

The Great Hall was packed with people, many of whom Fíli recognised from the Ball, but there were certainly many nobles and royals present that had not attended, including those who had claimed to be far too busy to come due to apparent important matters of state.

He was slightly reassured to see that his friends from Lórien had remained, as well as the company from the Shire. Traditionally, it would only be Clansman that would be able to attend, but clearly Thorin and the Blacklocks had not dared risk ruining already tenuous relations with the neighbouring kingdoms by denying their nobles access to what was otherwise a public event. He caught Éowyn’s eye and she gave him a sad little wave, gripping Faramir’s hand tighter in hers. Next to her was Arwen, who simply nodded in understanding, though her disapproval was written all over her face.

Fíli felt shame sit inside the pit of his stomach like an undigested lump. He was not Arwen though. Arwen’s pain would have been her own; if he were to follow in her steps, the repercussions of it would be felt throughout the kingdom. A Prince’s love could not put food upon a table, but a good marriage to a good family could do just that. With that in mind, he stepped through the entranceway to the hall and went to collect Dagní from where she stood with her father and the rest of her clan before escorting her up towards where the other Chieftains stood.

“I am Fíli, son of Dís of the Longbeards and Víli of the Firebeards and heir to Chief Thorin," He said, bowing to the table.

“I am Dagní, daughter of Unna of the Blacklocks and Duffin, also of the Blacklocks and heir to Chief Unna,” She said, bowing as well.

“What do you wish of us, Clansmen?” asked Thorin, his loud voice booming across the hall.

“We wish to become betrothed and marry within the year, if the Chieftains do allow it,” they said, in something almost close to unison.

“Has the betrothal contract been written?” Thorin asked.

“Aye, here it is,” said Balin, placing it before him. Thorin nodded and unrolled it. He cleared his throat and began to read the contract first in Khuzdul, and then in the Common Tongue.

Fíli’s eyes drifted to the crowd, where he saw an bored looking Prince Pippin muttering something that earned him a terrifying glare from Bilbo and a slap round the head from Merry. He suppressed a chuckle, remembering his own early days of having to sit through court before searching out for Kíli and Gimli who were standing at the front of the Longbeard congregation. Kíli mimed running with his arms and nodded towards the door. Fíli glared at him playfully and Kíli raised his hands in silent surrender.

Fíli felt Dagní tug on his arm then and he tilted his head towards her. To obviously interrupt the King’s speech would be close to treason, so instead she nodded towards the door as well, a look of confusion on her face. Fíli smiled, thinking that she must believe him to be planning on doing a runner, and he held onto her arm all the tighter, gripping it to let her know he wasn’t about to abandon her in front of all seven clans.

She let out an exasperated sigh and wormed her arm out of his, shaking her head as she did so. Fíli gave a minute eye roll at this, and smiled to himself. She really was starting to grow on him.

In her own gruff, and irritable way.

He stood there, allowing Thorin’s voice to wash over him as he vaguely registered that he’d finished speaking in Khuzdul and was now reading in the common tongue. He allowed his mind to wonder briefly back to Sigrid and what she might be doing right now. In the back of his mind he began to sing their song.

Never knew, I could feel like this…

Sigrid stared at Thranduil in horror. “You--you can’t. You’re--no. This isn’t--”

Like I’ve never seen the sky before

Thorin’s speech was concluding now and he indicated for Fíli and Dagní to step forward.

“You recognise that this document binds you two together as a vow to wed, and that to break this promise will result in consequences for your families as laid out in the contract I have just read.”

“Yes,” said Fíli, firmly as Dagní nodded her consent as well, her face slightly sceptical.

“Then, with the Seven Chieftains as your witness and before all gathered here today in the Halls of Erebor, sign the contract and you may begin to relish in the joys of matrimony.” Thorin handed the quill to Fíli first. He took a deep breath as he dipped the raven feather into the inkpot.

I want to vanish inside your kiss

“You brought this upon yourself, Sigrid," said Thranduil with a sigh. “If you’d only have consented to the match originally, you’d be happily married already.”

“I’m not something you can just pass off like I’m worth nothing! I have rights! I--”

“You’re no longer mine to look after,” shrugged Thranduil. “I care little for what rights you claim to have. At the end of the day, only those with money get to make the laws, and, sadly, you have none.” He grinned snake-like as Sigrid attempted to force herself free from the arms holding her back.

Everyday I love you more and more

Fíli handed the quill to Dagní so she could sign her name. His hand was shaking still, but he’d done it. He’d done his duty to his people. He looked into Thorin’s eyes and saw a kind of sad pride in them. Proud in the knowledge that his nephew had proven himself to one day be the best Monarch Erebor would ever know, yet regretful of all the pain he’d put him through in attempting to achieve their goal.  

He smiled at Thorin to let him know that everything was alright, his heart wasn’t breaking after all. It had broken the night she’d run away from him; everything else was just salt in the wound--painful, but for the best in the long term. He would never recover, but eventually the pain would become bearable.

Listen to my heart, can you hear it sing?

“Why are you doing this?!” asked Sigrid as she was pushed into the cart. “What did I ever do to you?!”

“You survived when they did not,” He replied simply, turning away from her and going back into the house she had once called home.

Telling me to give you everything

There was a quiet muttering that was spreading through the crowd and Fíli looked around curiously. Did they think he wouldn’t sign the contract? After everything that had happened, surely simply turning up was evidence enough of his commitment to the match? Perhaps the Clansman were larger fans of the dramatics than he gave them credit for.

He was not the kind to rage against the night; he was not his uncle, nor his brother. He was the sensible one. Even if being the sensible one was the last thing in the world he wanted.

Fíli turned to smile at Dagní and noticed that whilst the quill dripped with ink, she had not yet signed the contract.

Seasons may change, winter to spring,

“You will regret this, Thranduil Oropherion!” Shouted Sigrid. “I will see to it! Mark my words!" The cart began to roll away, and she was thrown forward by the movement.

but I will love you until the end of time

“Nê,” said Dagní forcefully, throwing the quill down onto the table before them all. “Ma zâkdasi. No. I’m not doing it.” She folded her arms and glared at Thorin.

A ripple went around the room, the Blacklocks muttered to each other in confusion and the Longbeards looked uncertain, as to whether they should be offended or not.

“Dagní, Hulwulê,” said Lady Unna through gritted teeth. “What are you doing?”

“Standing up for myself for a fuckin’ change.”

Fíli blinked at that. Ever since he’d met Dagní, all she seemed to do was stand up for herself. She did not seem the type to back down from anything, ever.

“I do not think this is exactly the time, Turghalw. We can talk about this later, just, sign the contract,” Unna smiled forcefully, attempting to ignore the various amused looks from the other chieftains.

“No. I’m not going to be signing any contract today because you’re the one being ridiculous! Yeah I don’t know why you’re looking so smug Flóki, you’re just as much to blame!” Dagní said, addressing the rather smug-looking Firebeard Chieftain.

“I don’t see what this has to do with us," He said primly. “Other than the grave insult you give to our kinsman by rejecting him so publicly!”

“Fíli, are you insulted?” she asked, turning to him now, head cocked to the side and eyebrows raised.

“No, my lady. I am not insulted in the slightest. Trust me.”

“Good. Now, you two,” she said pointing back at her mother and Lord Flòki. “Need to get your arses in gear and finally talk to one another like grown-ups without us needing to get married. In fact, all of you do," she said stubbornly, hands on her hips now. “We’re meant to be the greatest people in the whole of Arda--and yet you can’t even exchange one fuckin’ civil word with each other without some damn treaty, or marriage, or whatever crap getting in the way!”

The chieftains stared at Dagní in shock. Only Queen Vör, chief of the Stonefoots, could remember a time when someone had stood up to them such as this – and only then because it had been her that did so. She smiled widely and clapped her hands at Dagní, a grin spreading across her face.

“I couldn’t agree more, Lady Dagní! In fact, I couldn’t have put it better myself! Wouldn’t you agree, Thorin?”

Thorin looked perplexed at her for a moment before coughing. “Yes, Vör. I’m sure you couldn’t have put it in a more elegant, and profound manner.” His lips twitched into a smile, and Vör chuckled.

“So, Lady Dagní," said Vör, addressing her subject personally. “What would you suggest happens right now?”

“Now, we sit and we talk,” replied Dagní. “Right here, right now and as honestly as we all can. I’ve been talking to the rest of us heirs, and we’re all sick of it. You’ve been pairing us off for generations, and look what’s come of it. Nothing!" She spat.

“She’s right,” Fíli chimed in. “We’re all tired of your fights and rivalries dating back to before any of us were born. Can any of you remember why they even started?”

“The Blacklocks stole all our livestock!” cried Lord Flóki indignantly.

“Only because you stole all our crops!” rebutted Lady Unna.

“Oh aye, and why was that? Because your mines collapsed on us and killed all our able-bodied men!”

“Those weren’t our mines--those were the Stiffbeards!”

“Don’t go blaming this on us!” cried Lord Stígur. “That was the Broadbeams fault! They were meant to reinforce them properly!"

“We don’t even live in the Orocarni!” protested Lady Birta. “Typical Stiffbeard: always blaming it on someone else!”

“Oh don’t act all innocent!” Scoffed Lady Ingvór. “We Ironfists know your true nature, you two-faced barathgalât bintagre! Don’t think I’ve forgotten how you left us in our hour of need! Even when we’d signed that peace treaty with you!”

“A peace treaty you went back on first!” Lady Birta responded, rolling her sleeves up as if readying for a fistfight.

“Don’t you threaten my son’s mother-in-law like that!” snapped Lord Flóki, stomping over to her aid whilst Lady Unna stormed after him, having not finished shouting at him herself.

Fíli swapped glances with the other heirs and young lords. Gimli was looking impressed at how these people were somehow even more terrible at diplomatic negotiation than he was! The gathered Clansman from the seven clans were starting to argue now; shouting insults at each other based upon long time feuds, clearly following the example set by their leaders, much to the amusement of the gathered guests from other nations. Boromir in particular looked excited to see it all, muttering something to Aragorn that had him breaking into a full belly laugh whilst Arwen rolled her eyes, smiling.

Fíli exchanged an exasperated look with Dagní and raised his hand into the air, gesturing for everyone else to do the same. Thorin chuckled when he saw what Fíli was doing: it was the same thing Frerin had done when their own family gatherings had gotten a tad too heated.

Slowly, the noise of the room died down as everyone else raised their hands, including Thorin and Queen Vör. Eventually only the bickering chieftains were left shouting. A loud cough from Dís brought their attention round to the sea of raised hands and Fíli’s calm but disapproving look.

“I think,” began Fíli carefully. “That we’ve had enough of you for one day, Oh Great Chieftains,” he added sarcastically. “I think it's time for your heirs to have their say, wouldn’t you agree, Uncle?”

Thorin shifted from foot to foot at that. “Yes,” he said as sheepishly as he could be allowed to appear in front of a full court. “I think that hearing from the young people might be something we could all benefit from.” He nodded, stepping away from his own seat of honour and offering it to Fíli, who took it gratefully.

Soon, the other heirs were taking their chieftain’s places. Lady Dagní shoved aside her red-faced mother whilst everyone else stepped forward to, in some cases quite literally, push away their relatives and sit down in their stead.

“I could get used to this,” muttered Lady Kára, Queen Vör’s thirty-five year-old cousin, giving Fíli a wink.

“My Lords and Ladies, what’d you say to an agreement, that no more of us shall marry unless for love?” asked Dagní, who was clearly trying her best not to vomit on the word. “So that there’s never again a forced marriage like that of which almost happened here today?”

“Aye,” They chorused, some making apologetic glances at their own spouses, many of whom had been arranged – though luckily they all seemed to be formed on mutual respect.

“And our children,” said Lady Magga, Lord Sígur’s heavily pregnant twenty year-old daughter. “They should not be forced into marriages either.”

They all nodded in agreement.

“So it is decided," nodded Fíli. "None of us shall marry unless for love. So it is upon our Chieftains now, to discuss their issues amongst themselves in a similar calm, and collected fashion.”

He stood up once more and offered Thorin back his throne and walked back to stand next to his mother and brother. Dís gave him a quick hug and a whispered congratulations in his ear.

“Well. Today has certainly been educational,” said Thorin, smirking.

“That it has indeed,” nodded Vör in agreement.

“I suggest we all have a meeting tomorrow morning, just the chieftains and their heirs, and we can talk about this properly," said Thorin, standing and dismissing them all.

However, before anyone could begin to move, a woman appeared in the doorway whom none of them had seen before, save for three people in the room. She wore white robes that shimmered like starlight, with raven perched upon her shoulder. She held some kind of large, sparkling gem in her hand.

“Ammë?”

“Altariel?”

“Bagûna?”

*

“What have you done with my sister?” growled Tauriel, as she pulled out her dagger, prowling towards Thranduil.

Chapter Text

Twenty Minutes Earlier

When Sigrid reached the bottom of the stairs, Thranduil was waiting for her, leaning casually against the banister. He was twirling something in his hand. Sigrid didn’t know what it was at first, but a stray sunbeam hit it and sent a glow of patterned pink light across the room, and she recognised it as her shoe from the Ball. Her heart skipped a beat. When she’d woken up the morning after the ball to find it missing, she’d assumed that it had simply been the last piece of magic to disappear. She’d been saddened by it, having wished for some sort of memento for the night, but was perfectly content with the memories she had.

Clearly she’d been mistaken and its disappearance was due to far more dastardly purposes.

“A curious object this," said Thranduil carefully. “Morgonite, if the jewellers are to be believed. They were surprised to see so much of it; usually you would not be able to find a stone large enough to carve a shoe out of.” He smirked. “Especially one so big and wide.”

“Why are you telling me this?” asked Sigrid, trying to step away from him and back down to the kitchens. If she could get down there, she could go out through the back door and not be here for when Smaug arrived. She could not bare to spend another moment in the company of that lecherous worm.

“Well, I thought you might be interested to know its value. Considering I found it under your pillow.” He shrugged, throwing it into the air and catching it with ease. “I was surprised to find it there, because I certainly would never have dreamt of wasting such a precious item on one such as yourself, and I know that you have never owned something so fine before. So where did you get it?”

“I, I don’t know what you mean.”

“Again with the lies Sigrid. I’ve already told you you’ve no skill for it, and hearing you make them is terribly boring.” He sighed, climbing up the stairs to meet her and push her against the banister. Sigrid held onto the laundry basket as though it were a shield. “I found it in your room, on your bed, under your pillow--so basic deduction must indicate that it is yours. Or maybe it isn’t. Perhaps you stole it. Did you do that, Sigrid? Did your dirty little hands spy it in someone’s bag and you decided to pick it up and make it yours so as you could play pretend that someone cared about you?”

The front door was open, if she could just reach the bottom she could run for it! But run where? This was the only home she’d ever truly known--the only place she’d ever been happy.

Except when you’re with Fíli, she thought.

However, Fili was out of her reach now, and he would not come to rescue her. She was too old and weary of the world to believe in such fantasies.

Thranduil was wrong though: she was no longer alone. She had allies now, allies far greater than he could ever even realise. She knew, without a doubt, that she would find welcome in the halls of Gondor. That Rohan would take her in without hesitation; that there would always be a home for amongst the trees of Lórien. Her friends would be there for her, all she had to do was get back to them.

“You may think me alone, Stepfather. But I am not." She hissed, taking a step further down the stairs. "I am never alone, and I would never lower myself to your standard.”

“Which is exactly what I thought," A broad grin stretched out across his face as his eyes glittered menacingly. “You’re too much like your parents for that," he practically spat. Sigrid felt her blood beginning to boil; fear was giving way to rage now. She’d spent enough years hiding from him, holding her tongue.

But no more.

“And what is wrong with being like my parents?” she shouted, throwing the basket aside, caring little about what happened to the clothes. “They were honest, good people who put the needs of others above everyone else. They loved one another, and they loved us! I thought Da may have even begun to love you, but for his sake I hope that I was entirely wrong, you wicked beast! You who are full of deceit, and dishonour! You foul creature, you know nothing of love.”

Thranduil laughed at this, a loud bark that sounded out like thunder. “You think you know everything don’t you, my little Lady Sigrid? Well, let me tell you a story of a man who fell in love.” He was stalking towards her now, making her walk backwards down the stairs and Sigrid feared he might just decide to push her down the rest of the way as she clung to the banister on either side.

“Once Upon a Time,” he began, sweetly, “there was a man who came from a wealthy family, and he fell in love with a beautiful peasant girl from the village. But his parents did not approve of the match, so he had to run away with her to be married in secret. The pair of them were very happy together and when she became pregnant, they decided to go back to their family home. However, the house stood empty as his parents had died!” He gasped in faux shock. “He was very sad, of course, but they had left him their money and soon the house was filled with laughter and happiness! D'aw!” He cooed. “But only ten years later, his wife died giving birth to their second child, who only lived a few hours longer than she did. The man was left alone again, with only his son for company. He was still a good and wealthy man though, and when his most trusted advisors died of sickness, he adopted their daughter, and raised her as his own.

"But it still wasn’t enough for him to fill the void she’d left, and when he heard about a handsome lord looking for a spouse, he decided to put himself forward. Little did he know that he would come to love this lord as best he could, and that he’d even begin to find happiness again! But oh no,” he said, in an overly dramatic sad tone. “He died as well! And he was left with nothing at all, except a poxy little farmhouse, and an ungrateful stepdaughter he had no desire to care for! For the world had treated him wickedly, so wicked he became," he smirked. “Because, fairchild--and listen carefully, because this is the best advice you shall ever receive--only the cruel survive.”

“Why are you telling me this?” she asked after a pause. She’d never heard him talk so freely about his life before they came to the farmhouse; not even their time together when Da had still been alive.

“Because I need you to understand," He sighed, “that in the end, love means nothing. Because I know where this shoe came from. I know that you would never steal it, and I know all about you and that girl from the ball. Everyone is talking of how she was dressed as a thrush, the symbol of the house of Girion, if I’m not mistaken. Of how they thought they heard singing coming from the palace gardens; songs I’ve heard you humming and dancing to while you worked. And if how she was wearing slippers of pink glass or crystal.” He waved the shoe in a merry fashion.

“You were that woman at the Ball. You were the one who ‘stole the prince’s heart’ and ruined everything! You were the reason Tauriel dishonoured us in such a way, and why no one in the town dare buy our goods anymore from fear it all being a trap! Did you think he loved you? That prince? That he would whisk you away, and make you his wife? Oh Sigrid.” He pouted at the look of hurt on her face. “A man like that could never really love someone like you.” He patted her cheek in a way that was hardly reassuring. “I told you already: he just wanted one last fuck before he was to marry that Blacklock Girl. Is that why he took you off to the gardens so as he could have you on your back where no one would notice? Or did he just shove you against a wall and have it as quickly as possible? I bet you enjoyed it either way, didn’t you? Oh come now Sigrid, don’t give me that face. There’s no need to be so shy: everyone knows what you did. Everyone else knows the truth of his actions--you’re just too blinded by your sweet little childhood fantasies to see it.”

Sigrid kept silent, in too much of a rage to form speech. His words were vile and despicable, she wanted to slap him across the face and send an arrow shooting through his heart. However, she kept her temper in check. The door was so close now. If she could just get away from him for one second, she could make it.

She knew she could.

“But don’t worry Sigrid! I’ve arranged it all for you now! You’ll get everything you wanted and more, I don’t doubt.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked in a harsh whisper. “What have you done?”

“A little business transaction is all. Mr. Smaug wanted a new maid in his house to do his bidding. I knew just the girl to sell to him.”

Sigrid knew it was now or never. She rushed to the door as fast as she could, and began to run down towards the road. In her haste though, she did not look where she was going and ran straight into the arms of a burly looking guard she’d sometimes seen with Mr. Smaug.

“Oh good. You’ve got her then, Wemberly," smiled Thranduil as he sauntered out of the house. “Do you have Mr. Smaug’s payment?”

“Aye,” affirmed Wemberly, chucking a heavy bag of coins at Thranduil.

“You’re just selling me off!” cried Sigrid. “You’re just going to sell me to him like a slave, is that it? Do I really mean that little to you?!” She struggled in the arms of the guard.

Thranduil shrugged at her, a nonplussed look on his face. “Business, Sigrid. Just business.”

She stared at Thranduil in horror. “You, you can’t. You’re, no. This isn’t--” she tried to shake herself free. “Why are you doing this, I don’t understand! This isn’t right! This isn’t fair!”

“You brought this upon yourself, Sigrid,” said Thranduil with a sigh. “If you’d only consented to the match originally, you’d be happily married already.”

“I’m not something you can just pass off like I’m worth nothing! I have rights! I--”

“You’re no longer mine to look after," shrugged Thranduil. “I care little for what rights you claim to have. At the end of the day, only those with money get to make the laws, and sadly, you have none.” He grinned snake-like as Sigrid attempted to force herself free from the arms holding her back.

“Why are you doing this?” asked Sigrid as she was pushed into the cart. “What did I ever do to you?”

“You survived when they did not,” he said simply, turning away from her and going back into the house she had once called a home.

“You will regret this Thranduil Optherion!” shouted Sigrid. “I will see to it! Mark my words!” The cart began to roll away and she was thrown forward by the movement.

She had never thought him capable of this; of selling her off as a slave. She’d known he saw her as a servant--but this, this was just proof that there was no humanity in that man at all. He was an empty, shallow vessel of wickedness, and there would be no reasoning with him.

The cart sped up as they moved further away from the house, and the looming image of Smaug’s mansion came into view.

In the distance, a Raven cawed out her name, but she was too panicked to hear its cry.

*

Tauriel was in a rage. She’d known her foster father to be a bitter man, and she’d suspected her punishment had possibly been a little too lenient, but this was something new. Wherever she went, somehow the King’s Guard would be lying in wait for her. She’d spent the last two days trying to escape from them. She’d not slept, she’d not eaten-- she’d been on her feet the entire time with not even a single moment’s rest.

Eventually, she’d given them the shake by jumping from tree to tree in the opposite direction to the false trail she’d made. She’d perfected the art of tree-jumping when she was a little girl in the Greenwood, but she had been lighter and shorter then; better able to fit between the branches, and she’d had several moments of panic when it seemed she would fall from the top branches and break her neck.

At one such moment, she’d had to use her bow to save her by snagging it on a branch and swinging across like a traipse artist. She’d ended up dropping it though and watched in horror as it fell 30 metres before hearing the tell-tale snap that meant it had been broken in two. She would make him pay for this. Oh she would make him suffer for sure.

“Thranduil!” She cried as she stomped into the house. “Where are you, you cowardly viper?”

“Oh, Tauriel dearest how are you?” asked Thranduil casually looking up from the table with a bright grin. “I was wondering where you’d got to. Have a spot of bother out hunting, did you?”

“You sent those guards after me. I know you did.”

“Well, Daughter, it is the King’s Forest. You should know better than to hunt in there without a license.”

“You were the one who sent me to do it! And now you’re here counting your money from the meat I catch for you! If I had been caught what of it then, hmm? You are so full of yourself and your bitterness and pride that you can’t even see the truth!”

“Oh, this money isn’t from selling Game,” corrected Thranduil off-handedly.

“Then where’s it from?” asked Tauriel, nervously. Normally it was easy to get a rise out of Thranduil, but today he seemed so calm and collected that it made her even more fearful. She’d been prepared for him to hit her after such a confrontation, and as such, had a hand ready to draw out her dagger the moment she’d walked through the door.

She instinctively gripped the handle tighter.

“I just saw it fit to sell some assets we won’t be needing anymore. You’ll be doing dinner tonight, by the way. Sigrid will be indisposed indefinitely.”

“Where is she, Thranduil?” asked Tauriel, taking a step forward. “What have you done with her?”

“No real concern of yours. Just one less mouth to feed.”

“What have you done with my sister?” growled Tauriel, pulling her dagger out and prowling towards Thranduil.

“Temper, temper Tauriel,” tutted Thranduil disapprovingly. “Your Clansman Princeling won’t like you anymore if you keep that up.”

She stormed forward and grabbed him by the shirt, bringing the blade to his throat. “Tell me, or I swear you will regret it.”

“Tauriel!” cried Legolas entering the room. “What are you doing, let him go! Surely this isn’t worth shedding blood over?”

“He’s done something to Sigrid,” she explained calmly. “What, Legolas? Where is she? Tell me.”

“She’s not here anymore.”

“I gathered that. Where has she gone?”

“She’s gone to live with Mr. Smaug as his new maid. I’m sure,” he hesitated slightly before collecting himself. “I’m sure she’ll be fine. There’s no need to worry, Sister.”

“Smaug?” said Tauriel in shock. “No. No, she would never do that on her own accord. And this money.” Tauriel drew the dagger closer against Thranduil’s neck, enough to leave a small cut. “You sold her, didn’t you? First theft and other petty crimes, now you’re working in the slave trade, you foul loathsome creature! I should slice you where you stand!”

“Do it.” Thranduil challenged. “Go on. You’ve not got the guts in you, child.”

“Tauriel. Let him go.” said Legolas coming up behind her. “Is Sigrid really worth all of this?”

“Worth it? He has sold her off as if she were cattle at market, and you call it nothing?”

“She was only ever a servant, really,” he said, his voice wavering on the word. “She is not that important in the grand scheme of things.”

“In the grand scheme of things!” cried Tauriel in a high-pitched tone of shock. “She is our kin, Legolas! Our sister! How many times must I remind you of that?”

“Stepsister, Tauriel,” Legolas corrected firmly, as if trying to convince himself of the fact. “The daughter of a stepfather we never really knew.”

“And I am just your foster sister, yet that’s never stopped you from treating me as if we were of the same blood.”

“That’s different," said Legolas nervously.

“How? I was an orphan looking for a home and you were my friend, my brother. We were always there for one another, and cared for each other above all others. Why don’t you provide the same courtesy for her?”

“Oh, as if you’ve been doing the same all this time? Like you haven’t been treating her as a maid, someone who’ll make your bed and cook your food! You might smile at her, make friendly comments and remarks--but she was never more to you than a servant as she was to me! So don’t go acting all high and mighty with me!"

Tauriel let her hand holding the dagger drop to her side. “Yes, you’re correct. I have not treated her as I should. Perhaps it’s time I change that.” She turned on her heel and walked out the door, head held high.

“Tauriel!” cried Legolas. “You can’t take Mr. Smaug on alone! What do you plan on doing?” he asked fearfully, reaching out to grab her arm in an attempt to stop her from walking into what he was certain was her death.

“I’m going to go and get her back. You can come with me, or you can stay in this house. The choice is yours.”

“Choose wisely, Legolas,” warned Thranduil, smoothing out his wrinkled shirt and dabbing away the blood from his neck. “Do you want to risk your standing and comfort in this house all for the sake of a pointless mission to go and fetch a simple servant you care nothing for?”

Tauriel looked at Legolas, defiance in her eyes. “With or without you, I am leaving and I do not plan on returning."

You can’t ask me to do this.” said Legolas, his eyes pleading. “He’s my father. I know he has done wrong, but he’s the only link I’ve got left to my Mother. You can’t ask me to leave him now, I can’t. I just can’t.”

“Then I guess I’m going alone.” She pulled her arm from his grasp and walked out through the door.

“Wait!” said Legolas, causing her to pause. “At least take this.” He pressed his own bow and quiver into her hands. “You never know when you’ll need an extra arrow or two.” He explained, seriously, a tentative smile ghosting his face. Tauriel nodded at him.

“Goodbye, Brother.”

Legolas stared after her, regret already pooling within him.

“You’ve made the correct decision, Son,” Said Thranduil placing a hand on his shoulder.

If that’s true, thought Legolas, then why do I feel like I’ve just made the biggest mistake of my life?

Now

“Ammë, what are you doing here?” asked Arwen, stepping out from the crowd and coming towards her grandmother.

“Arwen melda, it’s so lovely to see you here, and you too Aragorn,” smiled Galadriel fondly.

“Alla, Altariel,” bowed Aragorn, still not entirely at ease with his future grandmother-in-law.

“Alla, Melda heru,” she replied, bowing her head in turn, a small smirk on her face at his formal manners. “I’m gladdened to see that the Clansman have opened their doors to the Eldar again! And,” she paused, spotting the rest of Arwen’s friends, “the people of Rohan and Gondor as well. I was hoping fate would allow us to meet, Captain Éowyn of the Riders – I see you have already met your Tintafëa. It would seem young people move so quickly these days.”

Éowyn looked rather perplexed at this. “My, my what?” she asked, glancing at Faramir for translation. After all, the language of the Eldar was his mother tongue. However, he just shook his head at her, blushing bright red as his brother made a failed attempt to stifle his laughter.

“Sorry,” said Fíli, taking a step forward. “Do you three know one another?”

“Yes,” said Arwen, confusion written across her face. “She’s my Granny.”

“Granny?” he looked between them both. “My Bagûna is your Grandmother?”

“Aulë’s hammer, I’d like to look that young and beautiful when you start producing kids," murmured Dís to Kíli, causing him to splutter and cough.

“Bag-what?” asked Arwen, looking equally confused.

“The woman from my visions! I’ve been having them since I was a kid! Since the day I--” he looked up at Thorin apologetically. “Since the day I ran away because I didn’t want to be king," he said quietly. An angry whisper rippled through the crowd.

“You have grown a lot since then, Young Prince. You have proved to all of the White Council, and indeed, to all the people of the land, that you will make a finer and nobler king than your uncle by far.” Her gaze flicked up to where Thorin stood, who felt as though he’d just been speared with a blade during a lightning storm.

“I promised I would look out for you, Young One, and I have been doing so with great care, just as Mithrandir has looked out upon your Marlûno.”

“What?” said Fíli, feeling more confused by the minute. “Who or what is Mithrandir and what’ve they got to do with Sigrid?”

“Ha!” cried Lord Dufin. “I told you he was cheating on our Dagní! We should never have agreed to this ceremony in the first place! You went against your word and--”

“Lord Dufin," began Dís coolly. “If I were you, I’d keep quiet. My child is not the one who refused to sign the contract, and then openly disrespect the Chieftains.”

He shut up abruptly at that and went back to starting at the strange scene before them all. It was turning out to be quite the eventful day, and even Pippin seemed to be enthralled by what was going on.

“Mirthrandir is our name for Gandalf the Grey,”

“The Wandering Wizard?” said Thorin sharply. “What’s he doing in Erebor? I’ve got a bone or seven to pick with--” Galadriel shot him with another one of her fiery looks and he promptly sat back down in his chair.

“Sigrid, on the other hand, knows him by the name ‘Fairy Godmother’.” She smiled mischievously. “He was the one who helped her get to you that night. Rek’s been telling me all about what happened at the ball, and I think perhaps it is time for one last helping hand.”

“Where have you been Rek?” asked Fíli, putting his arm out for her to hop onto. “I came looking for you, but Rip said you’d flown off. What’s going on?”

“Helped her fly. Needed coach-woman. I got fingers and cracked the whip over snooty songbirds.” She gave out a cackle of a laugh before going back to her serious tone “But Girion Girl in danger now. Going to the Lizard’s house. Forced to.”  She barked, concern evident in her voice to all those who spoke Carrion. “She’s not safe. Needs help. Help!” she said flapping her wings, as much an order as a request.

“Here,” said Galadriel, passing the gem to him, which on closer inspection appeared to be the shoe Sigrid had dropped.

“How did you get this, it fell to the bottom of the pond?”

I can talk to you psychically but you doubt my ability to retrieve a shoe? She spoke to him, raising an elegant eyebrow.

Good point, replied Fíli slightly sheepishly.

“This slipper will help you find her," she smiled. “Rek may have an idea of where she is, but a Raven’s directions can not always be trusted. It’ll glow brighter the nearer you get to her.”

“What’s going on? Not all of us can speak Carrion you know,” grumbled Gimli.

“Sigrid’s in danger,” said Kíli quickly by way of explanation. “We need to get moving.” He shouted to Fíli, who nodded at him in recognition.

“Go get our weapons Kíli, meet me outside the stables as soon as you have. Dagní,” he said, taking both of her hands in his. “I cannot thank you enough for what you’ve done. You’d have been an amazing Queen.”

“Still could be if you don’t watch your sorry arse. There’s more than one way to capture a throne.” She smirked.

“Then I hope that I’ll be able to count you amongst my friends,” he chuckled.

“You can be sure of that Pretty Boy, coz I’m coming with you, whether you like it or not," she said, folding her arms, displaying her muscular physique. She was twice the size of him, and if her bragging at the Ball had been anything to go by, could probably defeat him in a brawl with no trouble at all.

Not that he’d ever put that to the test. He valued his dignity and his limbs far too much.

“I’m coming too," said Gimli, jogging over with Kíli. “Ya not going to be leaving me out of this rescue mission, I shan’t allow it.”

“Okay, fine, you can both come. There are axes in the armoury.”

“Excellent,” said his Mother, walking briskly towards where the weapons were kept. “Come along kids, this way.”

“Mum, what are you doing?! No, Mum, you can’t come as wel--” began Kíli before his brother jabbed him in the ribs.

“If Sigrid’s in danger, we’ll want all the help we can get. Mum’s the best Barkûna in the land, if we’ve got a fight on our hands, I’ll not do it without her.”

“Well if your Mum’s going, then so are we," said Éowyn marching over. “I’m guessing you’ve swords in your armoury as well?” She raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Of course,” laughed Fíli. “Just follow Mum.”

“Excellent,” said Boromir, rubbing his hands together. "Come on little brother, it’s been awhile since you and I rode out together!”

Fíli smiled. He might have been born a prince to a life of luxury, but he’d never felt richer than he had right now, with so many people willing to come with him to save the woman he loved with no questions asked. True, some of them were also her friends, however, in many ways that just made him value them all the more.

“Dwalin," he called over, “gather your most loyal men. We’ve got a Princess to rescue.” He said firmly, twirling his dagger between his fingers.

*

When Sigrid had arrived, she’d been cuffed in irons and put to work straight away serving Smaug his dinner. He seemed to revel in the idea of her chained and unable to escape from him, his smile hungrier and more devilish than ever before.

“I told you Sigrid,” He purred. “I told you I’d get you in the end. I’m not an unforgiving man though.” He grinned, baring each one of his blackened teeth; the foul stench of his breathing making Sigrid’s stomach turn. “I will still make an honest woman of you. I don’t care if you’re spoiled goods. You’re still young and fresh in my eyes.” His clammy fingers wandered up her hand and along her arm as she put potatoes upon his plate.

Sigrid pulled away forcefully, but he grabbed hold of the chain that held her cuffs together and dragged her forward again.

“Take your hands off of me," She growled.

“I’m not sure you’ve quite got a grasp on the situation, Sigrid. I am your master now, and you are my slave. You have to do as I say, or I shall be forced to punish you.” He smiled, his tongue darting out to lick his chapped lips.

“I’d like to see you try,” She spat at him.

“Oh. Well, in that case." He sprang to his feet and pulling her towards him, pinned her arms down with his hands as he bent his head down towards her neck.

Sigrid was done with being passive though. She no longer had to play nice for Thranduil’s sake. Her family were dead, she was banished from her home, and her beau was engaged to another. All she had left was her mind and her will to live, and she would cling to it with everything she had.

As he leant in closer she flung her head forward and head-butted him in the nose, making him cry out with pain before she stomped down on his foot. He let go of the chain around her wrists, and she was able to get free of his grasp. She looked around for the key, or even just a sharp knife to break the bonds whilst he dealt with his broken and bloodied nose.

“Feisty, aren’t you?” He cackled stalking forward. “I should have paid more for you.”

“Get back or I swear,” threatened Sigrid, forming her hands into fists as best she could.

“What? What can you do, Pretty Sigrid? You get out of this room and you’ll hit twenty guards all loyal to me. Who’s going to come and rescue you now? You’re mine. Just accept it.” This time, Sigrid had time to think, and she flung her hands over and around his head, attempting to suffocate him with the chain.

“Not so helpless now, am I?” she chuckled in his ear, tugging the chain tighter. “Now, we’re going to go over to that door, and you’re going to tell your guards to let me go. I will walk away from you, and you will never ever be allowed this close to me again.”

“Oh but isn’t this a joy," He choked back. “The cat has claws. But I think Thranduil’s had you too well-trained to do much more.”

“I’ll do it," said Sigrid. “You forget, I’m a hunter. I’ve taken down bigger beasts than the likes of you. You’re not human, you’re nothing more than an animal.” He was fighting back now though, bringing his hands up and around the chain trying to drag it away from his throat.

“Fine,” He hissed, his voice straining. “I’ll give you the key and release you. Then you can leave, for all I care. Now let me go.”

“That’s a lad,” smiled Sigrid, loosening the grip on the chain. “Come on, we’ve not got all day.” She jostled him slightly and he slowly reached down his shirt and held up a key attached to a gold chain. Sigrid quickly released him from her grasp and made to grab at the key, but he was too quick and got away from her, this time pulling a knife from an inside pocket.

“You didn’t think I’d go down that easily, did you now? Me, the mighty Smaug? People stronger and better than you tried and each one has failed. I will not loose my prized catch so easily. The last remaining heir to Girion is too good to argggh!” he cried, stumbling backwards, his knife clattering to the floor.

A dagger was sticking out of his shoulder.

“Sigrid is nobody’s object or prize,” said a voice she recognised immediately. She spun around and saw them. She’d thought all hope of seeing them again had gone, yet here they were. They’d come for her after all.

“Tauriel!” she cried running over to her sister. “You..you came back?” she smiled broadly. “I thought...I thought you’d run away. When you didn’t return, I thought…”

“I’d never leave you, Sigrid. Not again.” She smiled, taking hold of her sister’s shoulder firmly and squeezing it. “Ah-ah-ah,” she said, letting Sigrid go and drawing the bow with lighting speed to aim an arrow at the worm. He had stepped towards them, armed with Tauriel’s own dagger that he'd ripped out of his own shoulder.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Worm,” she smirked. “Do not think I won’t hesitate to shoot you. How do you think I got passed all those guards of yours with not so much as a scream?” There was a wicked glint in her eyes, and Sigrid did not doubt that if she were to step out that door she would find a number of Guards knocked out cold and bleeding profusely. She’d forgotten just how terrifying her sister could be.

Smaug however, did not heed her warning and continued to make his way forward, baring his teeth at them. Without a blink of hesitation, Tauriel shot him in the exact same spot she’d thrown the dagger into and drew another arrow. She stepped forward as he scrabbled on the floor until his back was right up against the wooden cabinet in which he housed his most prized possessions. She fired another shot through his other shoulder, trapping him against the cabinet. Another arrow sliced through his hand and another just skimmed the top of his head, cutting a couple of strands of ginger hair in half.

“I see now I was mistaken after all,” huffed Smaug, unable to free himself.

“And this is a surprise?” asked Tauriel coolly as she ripped the key from around his neck and went to free her sister. Sigrid rubbed at her wrists where red marks were already forming from the tight cuffs.

“Thanks," She smiled warmly.

“Anytime,” Grinned Tauriel. “I don’t suppose you’d like the pleasure of finishing the job?” she asked casually, holding out Legolas’ bow to her. Sigrid took it in her hands gingerly and weighed her choices.

She looked at the person in front of her, struggling and gasping as he lay trapped against his own treasure trove. He was a pathetic sight; this man who’d haunted her nightmares and made her skin crawl, who looked upon her like a piece of flesh since she was sixteen. Goodness knows how many other girls he’d inflicted the same kind of unwanted attention upon. She fired two arrows carefully and precisely, one after the other.

They landed either side of his face, gently slicing cuts into each cheek.

“I will not grant you the pleasure of a quick death," she said smiling menacingly. “I know there is evidence of all your wrongdoings all over this house. The Royal Guards will come, and they will take you away, and put you in a cave where you will live for the rest of your miserable life.” She spat at him in the face as she backed away.

“Come, Sister," she said to Tauriel, linking arms with her. “I think we best go and find someone to free our dear friend Mr. Smaug.”

“Would that someone be a balding, burly clansman by any chance?” she asked casually.

“Possibly yes,” smiled Sigrid, laughing as they gingerly stepped over the unconscious forms of Smaug’s security team.  “They’re just knocked out right, they’re not, you know, dead?” she asked carefully, unsure what exactly her sister was capable of anymore.

“No. Just knocked out, should come round in about an hour?” she shrugged. “They’ll be okay. Well, most of them will be.” She added, her eyes twinkling.

“I don’t want to know. But if anyone asks me any anything about it, I’ll tell them nothing.”

“Much appreciated,” laughed Tauriel. They were heading outside the house now and Sigrid found herself looking around in amazement. There seemed to be a whole battalion of Royal Guards surrounding the place, all in the process of dismounting their horses and readying their weapons as if for a siege.

“Did you call ahead?” asked Sigrid, confused.

“No," said Tauriel, looking a little pensive. “Actually, I think most of these men spent a large portion of yesterday trying to track me down…” At Sigrid’s concerned look she added, “I’ll explain later.”

As Sigrid surveyed the scene before her, she caught the face of someone so familiar to her that she was ashamed of herself for not spotting him first.

“Fíli!” she cried running towards him.

“Sigrid!” he said in disbelief, meeting her halfway and pulling her into his arms.

“Are you okay?” he asked, examining her face for any sign of injury “What happened? Bagûna--er, Altariel that is to say, Arwen’s Granny--” he said, flustered, “she told me you were in danger? That you’d been captured, Rek…”

“I was, it’s true, but Tauriel came to find me--she helped rescue me.”

“You seemed to be doing a pretty good job of rescuing yourself when I arrived though,” smiled Tauriel, shuffling further away from the guards who only a few hours ago, had been trying to lock her away for life.

“Tauriel!” shouted Kíli, running towards her at full pelt, shoving his brother out the way. “It’s so amazing to see you!” he cried, coming to a shuddering stop before her, smiling brightly. “I thought I’d never have the luxury to lay my eyes upon you again! After the Ball, you were dragged away, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to thank you for that night!”

Tauriel blushed slightly, and gave him a small embarrassed smile. “It is you I should be thanking," she said, as bashfully as Sigrid had ever heard her. “For agreeing to my plan.”

“I will agree to that plan as many times as you would wish it,” replied Kíli, his eyes full of mischief.

“Can someone explain what’s happening here?” Growled a rough voice stomping towards them. “Last time I saw these two together," he  pointed at Tauriel and Kíli, “it was to make sure they never saw one another ever again. Was this the Princess you were all about rescuing?”

“No,” said Fíli, rather sheepishly, “that was Sigrid.” He took her by the hand and smiled warmly at her. “But I forgot just how magnificent she was, and how capable she was of being her own hero. She doesn’t need me at all.”

“Well I wouldn’t say that," she laughed. “Like I said: if it hadn’t been for Tauriel, I would have needed your help. Did you really come all this way just to rescue me? What about your betrothal? Dagní? Aren’t you two…” she looked up and saw the rest of the gathered company.

“Ah.” She said, her voice dropping an octave as she spotted Lady Dagní jumping off her horse and walking towards them. “You bought your fiancé with you.”

Dagní scoffed as she came over. “Not likely. Never went through with it. Couldn’t stand the thought of being stuck with him for the rest of my days just to make some fake peace with the Firebeards. Told them all to sod off instead.” She shrugged. “He’s all yours, if you want him. Though I can’t see why you would--doesn’t even have a proper beard on him.”

“Oh.” Said Sigrid, looking between the pair of them. “So you’re not….”

“No,” confirmed Fíli, grinning broadly. “I’m as free and single as the day we met.”

“Now is that the day in the forest, or the day in my kitchen?” she asked, giving him a teasing look. “Am I talking to Fee, or am I talking to Crowned Prince Fíli of Erebor?”

“Oh I like her,” said Dís, nudging Gimli’s arm. “My son’s got good taste, doesn’t he?”

Gimli shrugged. “She seems alright. Not to my taste of course, but each to their own. After all, he does prefer the sword over the axe.” He smirked.

“So, is there any reason for any of us to be here at all?” asked Dwalin, getting rather exasperated now.

“Yes," Sigrid reassured pleasantly. “Captain, there is a man in there with his hand stuck into a wooden cabinet who at the very least has dealt in the buying of slaves, and I’m sure if you were to take a closer look around the house, you will find a great many other artefacts that you may find interesting. I’d suggest looking in the study, if you want to find out who’s been selling illegal weapons and helping to run the criminal underworld of Arda.”

“Right you are, Lass,” said Dwalin nodding, and signalling for his men to head on in. “And no doubt I’m to assume that all that’s happened in there is pure coincidence?” He added, a small smile twitching across his face.

“I just walked in and saw him like that,” Sigrid said innocently. Dwalin chuckled and shook his head, following his men inside and barking orders at them in Khuzdul.

“So. What happens now?” She asked, brushing her hands on her skirt, frowning as she spotted who else had turned up to help her escape from Smaug.

“Now,” said Éowyn, coming towards her. “I give you a huge hug, they all join in, and we head back to the Castle.” She smiled, drawing Sigrid into a massive bear hug, quickly being followed by Kíli, Faramir, Aragorn and Arwen. Boromir let out a joyful cry and flew towards them all, attempting to pick them up in one go, causing Arwen to cry out shrilly as the group of them tumbled to the floor.

Fíli and Tauriel helped extract everyone from the pile as the other Clansman watched on with mild amusement.

“Commonfolk are weird,” said Dagní, conversationally.

“To be fair, Lass, Clansman do that as well,” replied Gimli.

“Okay. I stand corrected then. People in general are weird.”

“Aye, that they are.” Nodded Gimli.

“You two are the weird ones," smiled Dís with a roll of her eyes. “Come on you lot, you can talk about this more up at the Castle where we can all do some proper introductions.” She looked warmly at Sigrid “I’m eager for a cup of tea with the girl who’s apparently stolen my son’s heart.”

“Nothing apparent about it," smiled Fíli, squeezing her hand. “Though less stolen, and more given freely.”

“He’s just as stolen mine, as I have his," said Sigrid, gazing at him fondly and pressing a kiss to his cheek. Dagní and Kíli made matching retching noises.

“Come on. You can ride with me. Means I get to hold you tightly against me so I know you won’t run off again.” Fíli winked.

“There’s not another reason you’d like to hold me close?” she asked innocently. “I can certainly think of a couple more things that might prove to be more fruitful.”

“I look forward to hearing these ideas,” he grinned cheekily as he helped her up onto his horse.

“What’s that you’re wearing, by the way?” she asked as he climbed on behind her.

“It’s my kilt. We only wear it for Ceremonial Clansman purposes. I was, erm, I was in a bit of a rush when we left.”

“A pity you don’t wear it more often, it looks quite good on you. I’d have been interested to see what you’ve got on underneath,” she whispered loud enough for only him to hear and enjoyed the red flush that went up his face as she wiggled closer towards him.

“I suspect," he began with a smile, “we will have a great many things to discuss once we get back to the Castle.”

“Yes, I suspect we shall," beamed Sigrid, resting her head against Fíli’s shoulder as they trotted off down the hill and into the setting sun.

Chapter Text

On the journey back to the Castle, Sigrid relayed her ordeal to them all, feeling safe and comfortable in Fíli’s warm embrace. When she’d skimmed over everything that Thranduil had said (leaving out the details of his accusation towards their relationship being less than innocent), Fíli squeezed her close and placed a kiss on her cheek.

“You won’t have to go through anything like that ever again, or see them again for the rest of your life,” He said firmly. “I’ll make sure of it,” he added, his grip on the reigns tightening.

“He’ll pay for it though,”  Sigrid said firmly. “I’ll see to it myself. I’ve spent far too long being afraid of him, and I won’t let that get the best of me anymore. Though I don’t exactly know how yet.” she added almost apologetically.

“I’m sure I can think of one or two things,” said Dís darkly, who had looked horror struck throughout the whole saga.

“You’ve my sword, Lady Dís,” Éowyn said firmly. When her Uncle had been ill, she’d had to put up with her fair share of unwanted attention, and she’d sworn to never let another person in the lands suffer in silence as she did.

“And my bow,” nodded Faramir, his grey eyes fierce. He knew the hurt a Father’s words could cause – but these went beyond anything else he’d ever heard of.

“I don’t even need to say it,” Dagní said, glaring in the direction they’d come from.

“Should you require it, the armies of Gondor shall come to aid you,” added Boromir, grinding his teeth slightly. He’d always known his own father to be of questionable standard when it came to parenting, but all that Sigrid had been forced to endure these last years was not something he himself could let go unpunished.

“I’ve already left my mark on him,” smiled Tauriel, spinning her dagger in one hand. “I’d only be too happy to leave another.”

Kíli, grinned over at her. She really couldn’t be more perfect in his eyes if she tried. Unlike his brother, he’d been banned by their mother from sitting with Tauriel and so she’d taken his horse whilst he was left to share with Gimli. Neither were particularly happy about this arrangement, least of all Gimli who was rather sick of the longing glances Kíli kept sending her way.

“Thank you all kindly,” smiled Sigrid. “But I think whatever plans we put into action might have to go beyond simply making him pay in matters of the flesh.”

“Then when we get back to the castle, we can think of something appropriately horrendous and within the realms of the law.” Said Dís, her mind already racing to devise something worthy of his crimes.

“I thank you, your ladyship,” said Sigrid, bowing her head towards her.

“Pshk,” huffed Dís waving the title away. “No need for all that, just call me ‘Kal’amad’,” she smiled innocently.

“’Amad, imbikh,” warned Fíli, glaring at his mother as all the Commonfolk and Arwen looked at him, hoping for a translation, though it seemed none was going to come as the teasing continued.

“Sêfali diya Shukt. Dai taglibiya abkât.” Laughed Gimli, grinning wickedly at his cousin.

“Khazâd Mamahthahrâna. Mamhili hinrutul! Marlûnomêzu, lô dai? Kuf tatfanîn?” added Kíli, using his big brown eyes to full effect, making him look innocent and adorable, when really Fíli knew him to be the spawn of Morgoth himself.

“Itkiti!” Growled Fíli, inherently glad that Sigrid couldn’t understand a word of Khuzdul.

Yet, he added to himself, grinning at the prospect of teaching the one he loved his people’s most guarded secret.

“Lu’ Kíli, Lo hurutal. Stop being silly now,” chastised Dís. Fíli sent her a grateful look that quickly turned sour at her next words, “Amma a’rakhi mazrabi Zard zê ra ankudab tamkhihya, u mahmatsari lanzabalâg, u unâkh kuduszodikh--”

“--u maktibthi Fili kud tajalatadrani aya Idshahan Zann,” added Gimli with an evil grin, making Kíli laugh so hard, he almost fell off their horse.

“I will kill you all,” said Fíli brightly, trying hard not to die on the spot. “And no jury would ever convict me of it, you know that right? And I don’t need teaching anything, thank you very much.” He huffed, his ears burning bright red as he shifted in the saddle.

“Matricide and Fratricide? Who’d have thought you had it in you.”

“Don’t even tempt me, Dagní,” said Fíli, shaking his head. “And no, Sigrid, don’t worry about it, they’re just being evil.” He added, sensing her sceptical look.

“Yeah Kal’nana’” smiled Kíli, enjoying his brother’s exasperated sigh “We’re only teasing him. It’s more fun in Khuzdul because we can get away with saying more. Although no doubt the events we speak off will happen in the near future, I’m certain of it.”

“Events in the near future?” said Sigrid, raising an eyebrow. “Would those events, perhaps, involve kilts and cake?”

The Clansmen all burst into fits of laughter at that, whilst Fíli’s face became more and more radish-like. “I wish I’d never told you lot anything about us!” He said, resting his head against Sigrid’s shoulder.

“What did you tell them about me? At the Ball, when they brought it up, you wouldn’t say. All good things I hope.” She laughed nervously.

“Oh the best,” Grinned Dís. “All the best, most lovely things--especially at breakfast the other day whe--”

“RIGHT!” said Fíli loudly. “That’s enough! I’ll meet you all back up at the castle!" And he kicked their horse into a canter and sped off ahead of them, Sigrid's laughter still audible in the distance.

“Spoil sport,” mumbled Dís.

“That reminds me,” said Éowyn, who had tuned out most the Clansman’s discussion. “Arwen, Aragorn, what does ‘tintafaya’ mean? Your Grandmother said something about it to me, but Fara’ won’t explain what it means.”

“It’s pronounced Tintafëa,” corrected Arwen, smiling at Aragorn warmly. “Why don’t you answer this one, Meleth nín?”

“Well, it’s a Quyena word, not a Sindarian word. Gondorians speak Sindarian as their mother tongue, while Quenya is only really spoken in the realms of Lothlórien, where Galadriel is from,” explained Aragorn, a grin spreading across his face. “But I thought Faramir could speak it. Clearly I was wrong. He’s not the master scholar he makes himself out to be.”

Faramir threw Aragorn a dirty look. “Ego, Aragorn.”

“So what does it mean?” asked Éowyn shrewdly, looking around at them all.

“Well, from context, I’d say it meant ‘Marlûno’. Wouldn’t you agree, Boromir?” Arwen asked innocently.

“Why yes, my lady,” he chuckled. “ ‘Marlûno’ sums it up quite nicely I believe.”

“I hate all of you,” said Faramir, blushing as he kicked his horse and sped off after Fíli and Sigrid.

“ ‘Marlûno’?” parroted Éowyn, frowning. “Isn’t that the word Clansman use for--oh!” she realised, flushing red herself. “Oh. Well, I mean. I don’t not--oh no! Fara’!” she cried, speeding up to chase after him, the rest of them bursting into fits of laughter.

Dagní scoffed and shook her head. “Marlûno. You really all believe in all that fairytale romance bollocks?”

“Well, I didn’t until I felt it,” replied Aragorn, reaching out a hand for his Betrothed.

Dís looked at the young couple fondly, remembering when she’d first known that Víli was her Marlûno. They’d snuck off into the forest to get away from their ever-present chaperones and were talking animatedly about her latest sparring bout, when Víli had tripped over a protruding tree root. He’d grabbed her for balance, but ended up dragging her down with him onto the hard forest floor. He’d been all bumbling apologies and honestly, how else was she supposed to shut him up but to kiss him senseless?

She glanced over to Tauriel and examined the shy look on her face as she gazed at Kíli in much the same way he gazed at her. She sighed exasperatedly. It seemed as though she’d have to talk to Thorin about both her sons’ love lives.

*

Once they were back at the Castle, Fíli trotted their horse around to the back entrance where the servants usually came into (and where he usually snuck out of) and handed their horse over to one of the stable lads.

“Now you look after him, Hammerstein,” said Fíli seriously, “I don’t want you making a song and dance of it this time, okay?”

“Yes, your Highness,” said the lad, looking keenly between the two people standing in front of him. “Sorry, my Ladyship, but you’re not her, are you? The girl from the Ball?”

“Call me Sigrid,” she replied without thinking.

“Rodger, Mam. Rodger Hammerstein.” He grinned broadly. “So it’s true then, you are her?”

“Erm…”

“It’s just, we’ve heard a lot about you, you see, and I was just wondering, if it weren’t too bold, I’m really actually a writer and could you maybe--”

“Sorry, Rodger, got to go now, and um,” interrupted Fíli, pressing a gold coin into his hands. “Maybe don’t tell anyone you saw us?”

“Yes Sir,” He sighed, grabbing a hold of the horse’s reins to take him away, throwing a furtive glance in their direction.

“I thought you said no more hiding,” said Sigrid, smirking slightly as he lead her up and through the kitchens, where they were met with the hushed whispered voices of the cooks that grew louder as they left the room.

“We’re not hiding!” said Fíli indignantly as he came to a shuddering stop behind a statue, and pulled her towards him to avoid a group of Clansman that were walking past.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“Well, it’s less hiding and more, well--okay, so my family already loves you, but just. Well, I don’t want you to get hurt,” He looked at her imploringly. “The clans might not see you for who you are. I don’t want them to take you away from me, not now. Not after everything you’ve been through. I can’t stand the thought of you going back to that place and I can’t stand the thought of you leaving to go anywhere else.

“Of course,” he hesitated, “if you want to leave…”

“Of course I don’t want to leave!” said Sigrid, cupping his face in her hands. “What on earth gave you that idea? Fíli, if given the option, I would spend the rest of my life with you, and I fully intend to. Clansmen Chiefs or not, I’m not going to let some stuffy old idiot in a woolly sash”--she plucked at his own said garment--“get in my way.”

She smiled and placed a kiss upon his lips, one he gladly returned.

“Oh my Pretty Sigrid,” He smiled, brushing a strand of hair back behind her ear, frowning slightly as she flinched at his words. “What’s wrong? What really happened back there, Sigrid?”

“Nothing,” She said, shaking her head. “Nothing, and too much, always too much, but not with you. Just. He called me that, and I don’t want to be reminded of it, not from your lips at least. Please, just. Can’t we stick to ‘Geevashelee’ or ‘Lansaylee’?”

“Whatever makes you comfortable. I have no desire to make you think back on what’s happened. But I think, if it’s alright with you,” he grinned, “I’ll stick with Miss None Of Your Business.” He took her hands in his and kissed them gently. “And it’s pronounced ‘Ghivashelê’ and ‘Lanselê’. Honestly Sigrid, we’re really going to have to work on your Khuzdul, you know, if we’re to start courting properly.”

“Oh, we’re courting now are we? How formal of you, Mr Prince Charming,” she said, arching an eyebrow. “I guess we’ll have far fewer meetings at the Kitchen Table then.” Her eyes twinkled as she stepped closer towards him to whisper in his ear. “A shame, like I said, I quite like the look of you in that kilt.”

“Oh trust me, Miss None of Your Business,” He grinned, pushing her further against the wall. “There’ll be many more Kitchen Table Talks and Evening Garden Walks, if I have any say about it.”

Sigrid pulled him closer to her for a passionate kiss that started out slow and steady, made up only of small breathy kisses and caresses, before it grew heated as her hands ran up under his shirt and along his back, savouring the feeling of him being so close to her. How safe she felt in his arms, and the deep heated pleasure she felt when his mouth once again found the spot at the base of her neck that made her weak at the knees.

If his hums of pleasure were anything to go by, he was clearly feeling very much the same. Things were, in Sigrid’s humble opinion, just starting to get interesting when they heard a weary cough from behind them, and the pair stopped abruptly, though neither of them moved, too embarrassed at being caught by someone.

“That’s the whole of Thror’s Direct Line I’ve accidently caught behaving inappropriately in this corridor. It wasn’t a set I was all that fond of collecting, but at least it’s nice to know it’s a trait you all share.”

Slowly Fíli turned his head to see who had caught them, and let out a groan as he rested his head against the wall. “Hello Balin.” He sighed.

“Hello Laddie. Nice to see you got back okay. I take it this is the Mysterious Song Thrush you’ve been all twitterpated about?”

“Hi,” greeted Sigrid, waving over Fíli’s shoulder. “Sigrid of Dale, lovely to, um, meet you.”

“Charmed, I’m sure,” He said with a merry smile and a bow of his head. “Come on you two, the King will no doubt want to have a word with you both. You can continue what you were doing once I’m no longer around. I’m far too old to have to put up with seeing any of those kind of antics again in a hurry.”

“You’re not going to tell Thorin, are you?” asked Fíli, nervously, walking hand-in-hand with Sigrid nonetheless.

“I told you Laddie: all of Thror’s line. He hasn’t a leg to stand on, that uncle of yours.”

Sigrid couldn’t decide if Fíli was amused or sickened by the thought of this, and decided that he was probably feeling a mixture of the two. Sigrid caught Balin’s gaze and he gave her a small cheeky wink, his eyes revealing a youth that went at odds with his long white beard and tufts of snowy hair.

They reached a grand set of oak doors and Balin knocked smartly on them before entering without awaiting an answer.

“I found them, your Majesty,” he announced before tapping his foot and tutting. “You Durins really are all alike,” he sighed as he took in the flushed and guilty looking faces of The King of Erebor, and the newly reinstated Ambassador of the Shire.

Sigrid and Fíli exchanged amused looks before gripping each other’s hands tighter. “Uncle,” said Fíli bravely. “I’d like you to meet Sigrid of Dale, the Thrush who has captured my heart with her song.” He squeezed her hand as she bumped her hip against his.

“Yes, we’ve already met,” said Thorin dismissively, looking her over with a keen eye, attempting to use his gruffness to hide his embarrassment at being caught in Bilbo’s embrace. There really was something about betrothals and weddings that encouraged this sort of behaviour, even when the event didn’t exactly go as according to plan.

“You have?” said Balin, curiously.

“At the Ball,” he nodded. “We shared a dance together.”

“A short dance,” reminded Sigrid with a smile. “Not enough to gather a proper understanding of each other. I’d hate for you to judge me on a few sentences, your Majesty.”

“And I would hate for you to do the same. Shall we then, perhaps, start anew? I am King Thorin Oakenshield of Erebor, son of Thrain, son of Thror, Chieftain of Clan Longbeard and heir to Durin the Great. And you are?”

Fíli glared at his uncle, unsure what sort of game he was playing; trying to impress Sigrid with his many titles. He looked at the glint in her eyes, and knew that she would not back down easily.

“I am Sigrid of Dale, daughter of Lord Bard and Lady Kendra of Dale, sole remaining heir to King Girion the wise, and the woman who has every intention of courting your nephew, whether you like it or not.”

Bilbo smiled broadly at this and gave a chuckle. “Oh I do like her,” He nodded approvingly. “Ambassador Baggins of the Shire,” he introduced himself, bowing to her. “I fear I may be the least noble person in the room right now.”

“You are the great grandson of King Took the First!” corrected Thorin, sharply. “That puts you in high royal regard in my book.”

“True,” nodded Bilbo. “But only on my mother’s side. The Bagginses certainly held no regal line and it’s their name I bare. Though,” he reasoned, “I guess there are other names I’ve been given over the years: Barrel Rider, Luck Bringer, Ring-Barer, Fool, Traitor.” He smiled. “Titles come in all shapes and sizes and I suggest, Thorin, that you do not try and impress people with your own,” He chastised, giving a sharp glare that resulted in Thorin mumbling an apology to Sigrid which took them all by surprise.

“I’m sorry, Lassie, but did you say that your father was Lord Bard of Dale?”

“Yes Mr. Balin,” nodded Sigrid. “He died two years ago in a house fire.”

“Aye. I remember the incident. He was a good man, your father, one of the best Lords to ever sit on the council. He is sorely missed by many here.” He patted her hand gently. “So then I take it Lord Masterson is your guardian?”

“No, of course not! Why would you think that oaf would want to take me in? I live with my Stepfather in the village.”

“Strange,” frowned the Master of the Records. “I’ve heard no tell of Lord Bard having any property of the sort in the village, other than a few farmhouses.”

“Aye,” confirmed Sigrid nervously. “That’s where I live, with my stepfather and my two step-siblings.”

“Why do you not live in the main house then? If I’m honest, I always assumed all of Bard’s heirs had perished in that tragic blaze.”

“My brother and sister died, but I was able to escape in time…” She said, starting to wish she’d never admitted to her father’s title. “If it’s all the same with you though, I’d really rather not talk too much about it. The memory is still. It’s still…”

Fíli entwined their hands together and gave hers a squeeze. “Balin, do you really have to do this right now?”

“I’m sorry Lass,” smiled Balin kindly. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wondered why you allowed Masterson to gain complete control of the lands? From what I’ve seen, you’re a bright and bold girl, it seems out of character that you’d not want to inherit the deeds yourself once you came of age.”

“Once I what?” asked Sigrid frowning. “Mr Balin, I think you must be mistaken. Women can’t inherit titles of lands--it’s been that way for centuries.”

“It was aye, but Lady Dís put a stop to that when she married Lord Víli. Did you not know?” At Sigrid’s confusion, Bilbo stepped in to explain, sitting down with her on the sofa and taking one of her hands in his.

“Dís, as you may well have gathered by now, is a strong-willed woman, a trait she inherited from her mother. On her engagement to Víli, it was stated that in the event of his passing, the title of Lord of the Blue Mountains would fall to her as regent until their second child was old enough to inherit. Now Queen Drós, her mother, was a woman of fairness, liberty and a strong right hook.” He chuckled. He’d only met the Dowager once, but it had certainly been a moment to remember when she climbed out of her wheelchair and punched the Chief of the Broadbeams square on the chin for insulting her Lady’s maid.

“As such, she saw it as the perfect opportunity to state that the child would inherit the title regardless of sex or gender, and that this rule would roll out across the land. It brought in a great many positive changes in the Clans. Suddenly, people were able to express their true selves and true identities.”

Sigrid nodded, she’d heard that the clansman’s attitude towards gender was a far fairer and more liberal one than that amongst her own people. “What’s any of that got to do with Da and me?”

“Well, the law changed so as inheritance went to the first born child when they were of age in the eyes of the law. This law expanded across Erebor and includes the property and titles of the Commonfolk as well. If a will simply states that property is left to the next living heir, it does not matter how that heir identifies themselves, only so long as they are the next of kin.” He explained carefully.

“So, so what you mean is...I’m technically the Lady of Dale, with--with all the same rights and responsibilities that..that Da had?”

“So it would seem,” smiled Bilbo. Sigrid sunk back against the pillows, feeling quite dazed and shocked by it all.

“So...so Sigrid is still a full noble? Of..of the biggest county in Erebor no less?” asked Fíli, coming to sit down next to her, looking befuddled himself.

“It’s not quite as straightforward as that. She needs to accept it before she comes of age enough to rule alone. Which is twenty-one,” He said, glancing to Sigrid. “I assume that’s not gone by now?”

“Just turned eighteen a few days ago.”

“I was her birthday present,” Smirked Fíli.

“One of the best, if most annoying, frustrating and talkative, ever.” She winked, nudging him with her shoulder.

“Can we stop with this teenage flirting?” Asked Thorin, rolling his eyes. “I had to put up with enough of it when Víli and Dís were courting.”

“Eighteen,” smiled Balin diplomatically. “An ideal age to address your right to your title. Old enough to inherit property, but with a few years left to learn the necessary tools of the trade.”

“Inherit property? Wait so, do you have,” she ground her jaw thoughtfully. “You don’t happen to have a copy of my father’s will on record?”

“Aye, I think we probably do somewhere in the archives,” mused Balin. “Why do you ask?”

“I think,” she said carefully. “I’ve a plan coming together.”

“Well then, by all means, Lady Sigrid, follow me,” Smiled Balin, bowing and indicating the door through which a rather merry looking Dís had just strolled in.

“Evening all,” She smiled, looking around at them. “So, what’s happened whilst I was preventing my youngest from sneaking off with that Mirkwood girl for a roll in the hay?”

“According to Balin, I’m still technically the current Lady of Dale and I think I might have the perfect way to punish my Stepfather.”

“Ooh! Excellent!” beamed Dís. “Well, lead on then!”

“Sorry,” said Thorin. “What on earth is going on here? I thought we came to discuss what happened at the Ball? What’s going to happen now? I’ve a meeting with the Seven Clans tomorrow! I need you to help me prepare, not run around dealing with all this nonsense! This can wait!”

“Oh Nadad, Nadad, Nadad, when will you learn that I will always put my children first? Before anything the clans have to say, or do.”

“This is because of what your children did! What’s happening has everything to do with your children!”

“True, but you forget my love of revenge as well.” She grinned wickedly, ushering them all out the room and shutting his own door in his face.

“I’ve missed this you know,” said Bilbo conversationally. “I didn’t think I would, but I really actually do.”

*

Legolas hadn’t spoken to his father since the incident, opting instead to spend the evening in his room after dining on whatever raw ingredients he could find in the kitchen, and think on everything that had happened. How could he have allowed himself to be so blind? Of course this was what his Father had had planned. He’d seen the way Smaug behaved around Sigrid: always touching her fondly, and wanting to get as much time alone with her as possible--but he’d always assumed it was consensual. Why wouldn’t a girl of Sigrid’s standing want to be courted so passionately by a man such as Smaug? He was the richest man in the county, after all. And she was just a servant who….

But no. Sigrid wasn’t just a servant. She was family; same as Tauriel. An Orphan who’d been taken into their home, expecting to find some form of welcoming, love--only to be banished to the kitchens. In many ways, even, it was they who had been taken into her home. He’d never felt like he belonged in Dale. He missed the trees of the Greenwood and the feel of the sun on his skin. He knew that Tauriel felt the same way, yet she’d somehow adapted so much better than he had…

Legolas wasn't sure what he was doing with himself anymore; wasn’t sure who he even was. He’d spent years believing his Father to be a man worthy of his respect and adoration. True, Thranduil was technically a criminal, but all he’d ever done was to keep them all together. Surely, his adoption of Tauriel was proof of that? He’d raised them both all by himself, and they’d never been forced to go to bed hungry, or with the feeling that they were unloved.

He remembered his time with his mother as a child running through the woods, trying to catch leaves as they fell from the trees; marvelling at the twirling sycamore seeds, giggling as she split them open and popped them on her nose. What would she think of the man he’d become? Of the fact that he cared more about what the weather meant for his hair, rather than what it meant for the wildlife. That he appreciated the feel of fine silk more than the drops of dew on a cobweb, and would treat an orphaned girl with the apathy of a stranger, rather than with the welcoming arms of a brother…

He knew she’d be ashamed of him. She was no doubt looking at him from the western shores and shaking her head in disappointment. He’d let money go to his head and he’d forgotten her dying words, as she lay upon the bed--his far too quiet newborn sister clutched loosely in her arms.

“Legolas, promise me,” she’d said, with heaving breath. “You’ll look after them both. That...you’ll remember me, and all we’ve done together fondly?”

“Yes Nanneth,” He’d sniffed, trying to hold back the tears so as not to upset her. He was her brave guardian of the woods, after all, and brave guardians of the woods didn’t cry.

“Oh my little leaf,” she’d smiled patiently. “Tears are no things to be ashamed of. Just remember to have courage, and to be kind.” She’d raised a shaking hand to touch his face and asked him to fetch his father. It was the last thing she’d ever said to him, words he could remember clear as yesterday.

Yet he’d forgotten to live by them.

He didn’t have the courage to stand up to his father when he belittled and degraded those around him, or even when he threatened Tauriel. He hadn’t the kindness to show Sigrid support after the death of her entire family, or treat her like the sister she was. She’d shown the strength and kindness that his mother had tried to instill in him. Perhaps that’s why he always felt so estranged with her: she represented the qualities his mother had wished for him.

He lay awake all night, these thoughts spinning and twirling menacingly around in his head. It was not until the first few rays of sunlight began to peep over the horizon that he found himself drifting to sleep. However, his dreams were filled with his own guilt and the disappointed face of his mother, forcing him to wake up with a start only two hours later.

In an attempt to regain his thoughts, he dressed quickly and descended the stairs, hoping to escape to the woods where he could distract himself with a decent day’s hunt. Yet when he went to grab his bow from its hook on the door, he remembered that he’d given it to Tauriel.

“She told you she would not return. Did you doubt her word?”

Legolas grimaced at the voice from behind him. He slowly turned around and locked eyes with his father, almost ashamed at the similarities he saw there. Before, the fact that he resembled him so much gave him a feeling of pride at seeing his beloved father reflected in his own appearance. However, having grown wise to his ways, he began to fear that he was becoming too much like him. Was his posture so foreboding and aggressive? Did he wear the same look of apathetic disdain on his face? Were his eyes as piercing and ice cold as his? Legolas didn’t dare speak, just walked as smoothly past him as he was able.

“There is no point going out to look for her. She will be long gone by now, she has abandoned us both. There is no use in wasting your time searching for someone who has no desire to be found.”

“It is not her who has abandoned us Father,” he corrected, lacing the word with a trace of venom, angry at Thranduil for neglecting his duties for so long. “We abandoned her.”

Thranduil bristled at this slightly. “If I had wished to abandon her, then I would not have adopted her all those years ago. It is not my fault that both the harpies in the house would end up so ungrateful.”

“Do not insult them as such!” Shot back Legolas. “They aren’t like you or I! They are the noble warriors of legend Mother had thought we to be. You are the harpy of this household! Wailing and barking orders--destroying the lives of those around you, and scratching out the eyes of the innocent! And I am no better.” He added, mournfully.

“Do not say such things, Son,” chastised Thranduil. “You are still the warrior of the woods your mother always knew you to be. Do not let these falsehoods distract you from your own true wealth. Even if your words cut me deep, I know you do not mean them.”

“Guardian,” corrected Legolas. “I was the Guardian of the woods, not warrior.” He balled his hands into fists at his side. “I suppose that is where the problem has been all this time. A warrior, and not a guardian.”

As he walked back up to his room, Thranduil stared after him; confused as he had never been before.

How had all of this happened? One moment he was the king of his home, however ramshackled, and now he stood here watching as things fell down around him. His servant so defiant to him that she was of more use sold off to the highest bidder rather than working for him. A daughter and his hunter abandoning him for some fake quest to rescue a sister she thought she might have, and now a son who looked upon him as though he were the dying embers of a fire. How had all of this occurred in so few days? Was it not a month ago that all in his domain was peaceful and bright? What had happened, and who did he have to blame for it all?

“It’s that damned Prince,” He muttered to himself before saying it louder so Legolas could hear him. “He has corrupted Sigrid and in turn Tauriel! It is their fault this is all happening! Did I not say we should have left Dale when your step-father died?”

“No,” said Legolas simply. “That was my idea, and if you remember, your response was that it was a childish dream based upon a fantasy of home, and that Dale was where we now belonged. Though of course, if you had listened to me then, you may not be so alone right now. A loneliness of your own making, and not that of the Prince’s, I should add.”

“You’re not going to leave me as well, Legolas,” said Thranduil, coming closer towards him, the smallest note of panic in his voice. “Not after everything we’ve been through together?”

“No, Father. I will not be leaving you. For now. But do not think I will forgive you either.” And with that he walked back up the stairs to his room, leaving Thranduil standing in the cold, empty dining room.

A month passed by and nothing seemed to change. Legolas barely spoke to his father as he went about his daily routine. Without Sigrid to look after it, the house was slowly falling into disrepair as neither men knew the first thing about how to care for a home, or how to cook a proper meal. They were living off of whatever could be fried or made into sandwiches, with the washing piling up higher and higher.

When they eventually wandered out of the house to gather supplies with the gold Smaug had given them, they were met with cold stares and pursed lips. It was hard to find anyone willing to deal with them, but the people of the town needed to eat, and gold still went a long way. It was strange, wherever they went, conversations would stop abruptly and then continue once they were out of earshot. Legolas did manage to pick up on one line of conversation, informing him of rumours that Masterson had been dismissed, and that a new Lord of Dale was ready to take his place as soon as they became of age in three years.

Legolas decided it was probably best not to inform his father of this. He was still bitter that the title had not passed on down to him, but the will and the laws of the land made it very clear. The title was never Thranduil’s to inherit, and never would be. They walked back up to the Farmhouse carrying their wares in silence, much as their days together had been spent in recent days. However, when they got there they discovered something neither of them had been expecting.

A Junior Member of the King’s Guard was nailing something to the door of their house. He was accompanied by two figures on horseback, neither of whom Legolas recognised nor could he place where their clothes were from, only that they were not of Erebor. Thranduil did not seem to see these people though, and stormed forward to rip the paper from the door and turn on the lad.

“What on earth is this?” demanded Thranduil, examining the paper as though it were covered in cockroaches before scrunching it up and throwing it on the floor.  

“Eviction notice,” shrugged the young lad, pocketing his hammer. “By orders of the Lady of Dale.”

“What Lady of Dale? What woman would lower herself to take Masterson as a husband?”

“Not Masterson’s wife, sir, no. The real Lady of Dale, she’s returned to us she has.”

“What?” asked Thranduil, more fiercely now, grabbing the boy by the front of his shirt. “What Lady of Dale? There is no Lady of Dale who can possibly return! Women can not inherit titles--it has always been that way!”

“Oi! Put me down!” cried the boy. “Le’me go! I’m just telling the truth! She’s not the lady yet, but she’s gonna be, is all! That’s what he told me anyway!”

“Who told you?” Thranduil hissed, dragging the boy closer to him.

“Let the boy go,” said a calm voice from behind him, and, still holding to the front of the boy’s shirt, Thranduil turned around to look at the voice’s owner.

The voice belonged to a young woman who sat upon a chestnut mare wearing a bridle Thranduil recognised as that worn by an officer’s stead in Rohan. The woman herself was dressed in a simple, practical green and white gown with some silver embroidery worked into it in an attempt to make it look slightly more regal. Around her shoulder was a blue velvet cloak, which stood slightly at odds to her otherwise simple attire. Beside her was a young man with long brown hair, wearing a black velvet tunic with a silver tree embroidered onto it which marked him out as a captain of Gondor, though around his shoulders was a simple green woollen cloak that appeared to be from Rohan.

“Am I to assume I am addressing the new Lady of Dale?” he simpered.

“I should hope not,” laughed her guard. “If she is, then I suspect the Prince and I will have much to lament over in the next few days.”

“I am Captain Èowyn of Rohan. I’m here to escort you to the palace, on the orders of Lady Dís of Erebor and the Future Lady of Dale.”

Thranduil frowned. “Has Lady Dís usurped Masterson then?”

“All shall be revealed soon enough. But if you wish to overturn your eviction, I suggest you come with me.”

“I have done nothing wrong,” He puffed himself up. “I am the former Lord Thranduil of Dale, husband of Lord Bard of Dale, and I own this house and all it’s contents. Lady Dís has no grounds for claim over this property! It was left to me! It was in my husband’s will!”

“Then I suggest your son goes and finds this will of yours whilst you come with us.”

“He will do no such thing!”

“Father,” warned Legolas, helping the young boy to his feet and checking he was all right. “Do not get yourself into more trouble. I’m sure the eviction is just all a misunderstanding, do not say anything now that you will regret later.”

“Listen to your son,” said the man. “After all, the Riders of Rohan are not known for their patience.”

“You will come with us now. Or we will have to take you by force.” There was a certain something about her eyes and the way her hand twitched at the hilt of her sword that made the hair on the back of Thranduil’s neck stand on end.

“Very well.” He sniffed. “I doubt this shall take long. Legolas, go inside. I’m sure this dispute will be resolved soon enough.”

“Do you want me to find Stepfather’s will?” he asked, stepping forward. “There is sure to be a copy in the house somewhere. I’m sure that will clear things up straight away if--”

“No,” snapped Thranduil, glaring at him with all too familiar eyes. “Just stay put and don’t try and do anything to help. We shall continue this conversation when I am back. Do you have a horse for me?” asked Thranduil, looking up between the pair of riders.

“No. You are to walk, by orders of her Ladyship.”

Thranduil flared his nostrils but said no more. He was not a fan of this new imposter to the deeds of Dale. It should have been him who inherited the title, as it would have been done had they still resided in Mirkwood. Oh how he wished he’d never left his homeland…

He set off at a steady pace, his two guards walking steadily by his side, ignoring him completely and instead setting up inane chatter about this, that and the other, flirting for all they were worth.

Typical, he thought to himself. Only I would be escorted to court by a pair of Dila-Fileg.

Legolas stared after his father as he disappeared down the road. He was still in turmoil. He wanted to see his father punished somehow for his behaviour, but he could not let him be escorted away by the law for no solid reason. The farmhouse belonged to them; his Stepfather had left it to Thranduil so he would have somewhere to live with them. No noble could deny them that. He tapped his fingers against the side of his leg, before heading into the house and going in search of the document; it had to be around somewhere. After all, it wasn’t the sort of thing one threw away.

Chapter Text

It took Thranduil a long time to walk to the castle by foot, and by the time he got there his hair had become quite unruly and his boots were splashed with grime and dirt. He suspected he even had some embarrassing sweat patches under his arms from the fast pace the two riders had set. Whoever this new Lady of Dale was, she was going to be getting a piece of his mind. Nobody treated Thranduil Oropherion like this and lived to tell the tale.

“Am I not even granted a moment to freshen up before entering the council chamber?” he asked indignantly as the two captains pushed him forwards.

“No.” Said Éowyn, giving him an extra shove.

“The council is very busy.” Provided Faramir. “You can either see them now to gain your answers, or wait for a month before they meet again. Though what you would do in that time without a home is beyond me.”

Thranduil scowled at them both before straightening his back, doing his best with the tangled mess on top of his head and entered the chamber with his head held high. The lords for the counties were all gathered around in a circle, talking merrily to someone in the centre. Lady Dís was presiding over the meeting and when she looked up to see who had entered, a smile spread across her face that unnervingly reminded Thranduil of a cat about to pounce on an unsuspecting mouse. He didn’t know who this Clanswoman thought she was dealing with, but Thranduil was no mouse. He would not be caught by her so easily.

“We have found him and bought him to you, My Lady.” Said Éowyn, bowing deeply.

“Thank You, Captain Éowyn, Captain Faramir; you may stay if you both wish, or,” she added, her eyes twinkling, “you can go back to the stables to look after your horses. I know just how much time you enjoy spending there.”

Thranduil found some pleasure in the way Captain Faramir’s face reddened at this, but he seemed to keep his resolve as his apparent Melethril replied, without a hint of embarrassment: “No thank you, Lady Dís. The Captain and I would prefer to stay and watch proceedings. We can see to our horses later, I’m sure.”

“I’m sure you will yes.” She smirked before raising a small wooden hammer and banging it on the table for silence, which was duly given as the gaggle of Lords turned to face her. “I’m sorry for the delay in our next order of business,” she said, briskly. “I’m sure you are all as eager as I am to welcome the new member to our ranks, but I suggest we all take our seats now that the convict is here.”

“Convict!” squawked Thranduil indignantly. “I am no convict! You are the ones who have tried to unlawfully throw me from my home, the only thing granted to me on the death of my husband! Would you truly seek to take away the only shelter of a widower and his children?”

“I am only here to act in the ways of the law,” said Dís dismissively. “The charges against you though, Thranduil Oropherion, are more than just that of eviction. No, no, no. If only they were that simple.” She smiled sweetly, looking around at the lords who were all now sitting in their correct places. Thranduil kept his gaze pinned to Dís though, there was no way he was going to allow her to win this battle of wits.

“Master Balin,” she began, addressing the man working at a small desk beside her own. “Would you please read out the charges?”

“Of course My Lady.” He gave a cough and produced a long roll of parchment.

“The accused stands before us today on the accusations of aiding and encouraging the hunting of Game in the King’s Forest without a licence, selling goods without paying tax or owning a trader’s licence, Neglect and abuse of minors, and the selling of slaves. There is also evidence of his involvement with the newly convicted Mr. Drake Smaug, which may reveal yet more criminal behaviour.” Thranduil’s face paled at that; if Smaug had been caught out, did that mean that the Lizard had talked and revealed all they’d discussed together in private? “And,” continued the advisor, “a willful plot to keep property away from its rightful owner.”

“How do you plead Mr. Oropherion?” asked Lady Dís, peering down at him from her elevated platform

“This is ridiculous!” laughed Thranduil nervously. “Who accuses me of this? What is your source in these matters? It is clearly someone who is jealous of my standing in society and I shall not stand for such a smear campaign!”

“Your accuser is someone who I have to utmost trust in, our new representative from Dale, whom I believe you have met before?”

Thranduil spun round to glare at where he knew the Lord of Dale sat, and frowned at the sight he saw there. It was a very short man in his 40s, with masses of golden-brown curls and dressed in robes that seemed to be simultaneously too tight and far too big. “No. I’ve not had the pleasure.” He said, grinding his jaw slightly.

“Oh no,” laughed the man. “No, I am just her new legal guardian, here to show her the ropes and to take her seat whilst we await for her to come of age.”

“Well, then where is this so called Lady of Dale then?”

“She’s behind you.” Said an all-too-familiar voice. Thranduil turned around to the entrance and felt his heart sink to the floor.

“Oh no, she isn’t...” he breathed in astonishment

“Oh yes she is,” smirked the Lady of Dale.

Thranduil could not process what was happening. Before him stood Sigrid, but as he had never seen her before. She wore an autumn red velvet dress with gold trimmings. The collar and bodice were heavily embroidered in deep orange with small motifs of leaves and trees. He thought he could make out a thrush on the top right hand side. Her hair was not in its usual messy bun, but rather rippling down her back like spun gold, save for a couple of small braids behind her ear which were decorated with tiny beads in silver and blue.

Thranduil gaped at her for a moment before regaining his composure. “It is good to see that you are well, Stepdaughter.” He bowed, grimacing as he did so. “When you did not return to us after your visit to Mr Smaug, we were concerned. You too, Tauriel,” he added, having spotted her behind Sigrid, wearing a simple green silk dress. “It’s so nice to see you two sisters back together again. Especially after you ran away like that.”

“Thranduil, please. Let us not play pretend,” said Sigrid, circling him now. “You sold me to Smaug because you did not want me around anymore, because you knew what the property laws were like and you feared that my Kal’baraf would reveal the truth to me.”

“Kal’baraf?” laughed Thranduil nervously, “I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean--”

“Oh, of course, you are not aware,” smiled Lady Dís, “may I introduce you to my Son’s Kal’yasath, his betrothed?”

“What?” he snapped. “Impossible! No! But, but what about the Blacklock Girl?”

“The Lady Dagní,” said Dís fiercely, “has decided it would be a wiser move for the Clans to talk over their problems together, rather than just marry one another and hope for the best.”

“I, I see. Well, then I suppose Sigrid will be needing my blessing of the match--which will be impossible to gain if I am to be taken to court in such a manner. The clans won’t like it, surely, if the Stepfather of the future queen has a criminal record!”

“No, you said it yourself, Thranduil. I am eighteen now, I do not need your consent to do anything. Ambassador Bilbo is only my guardian in terms of sitting in court, you are no longer my responsibility.” She grinned, coming round to sit beside Bilbo. “Lady Dís, you have my leave to continue. I can confirm that this is Thranduil Oropherion. The man who treated me not as a Stepdaughter, but as a servant for the past three years. Who, regularly and wilfully, forced his Foster Daughter to go hunting in the King’s Forest so as he could sell the meat on the black market. Who sold me to Mr. Drake Smaug for an undisclosed sum, simply because I dared to fall in love with a Prince.”

A murmur travelled between the gathered lords. “Thank You, Lady Sigrid.” Smiled Dís. “Now then, Mr. Oropherion, I ask you again, what do you say to these accusations?”

“That they are just that! Accusations! The word of one girl who is unessecarily angry at me, all because I tried my hardest to find her a suitable husband following the heartache I knew she was suffering. I simply hoped to heal her wounds, not cause them to cut deeper. How was I to know that he would treat her so poorly? Or that a respected member of the community would turn out to be a criminal?”

“You deny that you knew anything about Mr. Smaug’s criminal activities?”

“Most certainly!”

“Captain Dwalin,” she said, addressing a rather terrifying man standing by the door. “If you could escort the first witness in.”

The man gave a curt nod and exited the room, only to come back in a moment later with Mrs Thacker. Thranduil closed his eyes shut and tried his best to keep his face clam. Mrs Thacker was the wife of one of his most regular clients, who was also deep in league with Smaug. She had never seemed to approve of her husband’s behaviour, and the bruise across her eye gave evidence as to why she had not said anything until now.

“Mrs. Thacker,” Dís addressed the woman kindly, “It is incredibly brave of you to address us here today.”

“Least I can do, your Ladyship,” murmured the woman. “After all you did in getting Henry to...to go away.”

“Away for life, I promise you.” Said Dís firmly. “If you could just be brave once more, I promise you can go back to putting your life back together again with you and your children in peace, but could you just confirm for us that you know this man?”

“Aye, your Ladyship, he’s Thranduil Oropherion, he sold my husband black market meat. I didn’t want him to do it, your ladyship!” she said hurriedly. “But it was always better than what was on offer at the butchers, and he always wanted the best…”

“Nobody is blaming you, Mrs. Thacker. Please, continue.”

“He sold the meat to him, and, and they often talked about Mr. Smaug and all that he was involved in. Sometimes they came round to our house and talked about, about all the criminal things they did. Like I already told you…”

“And Mr. Oropherion was there too?”

“Yes My Lady, he was.”

“Thank you, Mrs Thacker, you may leave now. Though I hope to see you and your daughters again for tea some time.”

“Thank you, My Lady.” She said, giving a small bob. “That’s very kind of you.” She got up and Dwalin escorted her back out to the hallway again.

“What do you say to this then, Mr. Oropherion?”

“One word from one woman surely is not enough to condemn a man. Her husband was a cruel and vicious scoundrel whom I was forced to associate with. I would have said anything in that scenario to keep myself and my own family safe.”

“So you admit to associating with the pair of them?”

“Well, yes, but so did many of the people of Dale, you would not convict them all, surely?”

“Well then, I suppose we better get some more witnesses in!”

And surely enough, one by one, more and more of the villagers of Dale entered and gave evidence against him. Each time Sigrid looked more and more smug, though Tauriel’s face was a mixture of emotions that he could not read. He felt like he was drowning, but he would not let himself sink without a struggle.

“Well fine then, so I knew he was a criminal. That does not mean I sold anyone as a slave.”

“But you agree to selling without a licence? You are aware the punishment for that is four years in prison?”

“I--well, no. I wasn’t aware and I… but it was not me who hunted the game in the first place! It was my daughter, Tauriel!” he said pointing at her. “She was the one who hunted them down and killed them! Just ask your Captain Dwalin! Even Sigrid hunted in there!” he added in a panicked tone. “She hunted in the forest, out of her own free will! For her own entertainment no less!”

“There are no laws preventing the nobility from hunting in the forest for their own plate.” Shrugged Dís.

“But she wasn’t, I mean, she’s not…”

“She was always the daughter of Lord Bard, and thus always the rightful heir to the county of Dale.”

“I see. But, but women can’t--”

“Oh yes they can.” Smiled Dís. “They most certainly can. Which, I’m surprised you did not know, considering how she also inherited the property on which you live. Do you deny knowledge of that?”

“She did not inherit it!” Said Thranduil forcefully. “The Will was made very clear, I was to inherit it, the only thing he left for me! A roof over my head after everything I gave to him! My money, my family, my love and he only left me a house and a Stepdaughter!”

“You deny that you knew anything about Sigrid inheriting the property when she reached the age of eighteen?”

“She does not deserve it! She was only his daughter! By all rights, it should be mine!”

“So you admit to knowing you were stealing her property?”

“It was never hers! It was always mine, and mine alone!”

“Well, the Will we have on record says differently.”

“An old Will. Not the one for after he married me--after he fell in love with me!”

“Oh shut up, Father.”

Thranduil spun around as everyone looked up to see who had entered the room.

“Legolas.” He hissed. “I told you to stay at home.”

“I thought you needed my help. I thought I would protect you one last time, but this is just proof that you have gone too far.” He pushed past his protesting father and bowed to the assembled nobles.

“Your Ladyship, I am Legolas Oropherion of Mirkwood, the son of the accused. This is the most recent last will and testament of Lord Bard of Dale, declaring that the house was to go to my Father until Sigrid was of age. He trusted that Sigrid would look after the three of us as we had looked after her.” He threw his Stepsister an apologetic look. “I hope for our sake that she does not do that, for we have all treated her as a servant, and on so many occasions, not even as a human being.”

Dís read over the Will aloud for all to hear, and it, indeed, confirmed what Legolas had said. It also declared that the title and deeds connected to Dale would all pass onto his next living heir, which in this case was Sigrid, thus silencing those who had still supported Masterson.

“I can also confirm,” continued Legolas, “that he willfully sold meat on the black market, that it was I and not Sigrid or Tauriel who hunted it. It was me, always me.” He looked to where Tauriel sat in the audience and gave her a motion to be quiet.

“So you admit to the crime of hunting without a licence?”

“Yes.” He said firmly.

“You are aware that the punishment for this is four years in prison?”

“Yes.” He said quietly. “It is no more than I deserve.”

“What of his other crimes, of selling slaves and aiding criminals? The neglect and abuse of minors?”

“Aye, all true,” said Legolas sadly. “He admitted to me that he sold Sigrid to Mr Smaug, my sister, Tauriel, will no doubt confirm it.” He added, hanging his head. “And he did not treat Sigrid as the daughter that she should have been. He forced her to do work for us, did not give her a proper bed, and occasionally would hurt her for what she did… all whilst under the age of eighteen…”

Sigrid stared at Legolas in mild shock. She’d never known him to speak so truthfully, and she was surprised to hear the genuine regret in his voice. “Legolas, why are you doing this?”

“Because,” he said turning to her. “I realise that you are everything a person should be, the kind of person my mother wished me to be and whom I am not. If I cannot be that person, then it is my duty to defend them, at least now I have seen the light. Please Sigrid, will you forgive me for what I’ve done to you?”

“I,” said Sigrid hesitantly. “I don’t know…”

“Well then, it seems clear to me,” said Dís loudly. “That Mr Oropherion is guilty as charged. Do all the Lords of the land agree?”

There came a chorus of ayes.

“Then I think it is time to deal out the punishment. Mr Oropherion, I sentence you to life imprisonment in--”

“Sigrid, please,” said Legolas, gripping her hands in his. “He is a cruel and evil man I know that, but please, he will not survive in prison. Something else, something justified, but something that will keep him alive.”

Sigrid looked at him, at the boy who she always thought to only care for himself. His eyes were pleading and she saw in them hope. Perhaps he was right; perhaps it was time for her to be the bigger person and grant Thranduil one small favour.

“Wait. Kal’amad,” She said, interrupting her.

“Yes, Kal’nâtha?” Dís grinned, happy to see that Sigrid was using the name in front of others now.

“Please, I do not think prison would suit him. For my father’s sake at least. I ask for punishment that will befit the crime he has committed. And my Stepbrother.” She added kindly. “Please show him some mercy. He was as much a victim in all this as Tauriel was, and you have granted her a pardon, why not the same for him? He was brave to come down here today and speak out as he did.”

“The crimes are against yourself and the crown, Lady Sigrid. Seeing as you are now a representative of both, I shall grant you what you wish. What punishment do you see as befitting his numerous crimes?”

“I only wish that he be shown all the kindness and decency that he has shown me over the years.”

“Spoken as Girion’s true heir, and your father’s daughter. So be it then.” She smiled pleasantly. “Mr Oropherion, you are to be sent to jail until your punishment has been decided. Master Oropherion.” She said sternly. “Your Stepsister has asked for you to be pardoned and I shall agree to it. However, if you ever break even the smallest law here again, then I shall see that you are sent away for life, is that understood?”

“Absolutely, your Highness,” Legolas bowed.

“This meeting is dismissed then, until next month then my Lords, my Lady.” She banged her hammer three times and everyone began to move away, the three siblings watching as their father was dragged off between the arms of Éowyn and Faramir (who had requested the pleasure themselves) to the jail cart.

Sigrid relaxed into her chair and dragged a hand over her face, her regal posture descending back to her usual uncouth ways.

“You did very well today,” said Bilbo, patting her on the shoulder. “Exceptionally well. You will make a fine Lady of Dale I am sure of it. The best the kingdoms have ever known! And indeed,” he added his eyes twinkling, “an even better Queen.”

Sigrid shoved him on the shoulder playfully. “There’s still time before that. Don’t get ahead of yourself Kal’kidizbâha!”

Bilbo blushed bright as one of his prized tomatoes. “Now who’s getting ahead of themselves,” he mumbled.

“Thank you, Sigrid,” said Legolas again. “You have done me a great honour.”

“Well, I figure it’s what Da would have done.” She sighed. “I’m sure I’ll come up with something more befitting his crimes than prison anyway.” She smirked and Legolas gave a small laugh.

“I’m sure you will.”

“Brother!” said Tauriel, coming over to him now and embracing him in a hug strong enough to pick him off of the ground, but which he returned with equal enthusiasm. “I knew you would come back to us.” She smiled at him after she pulled away.

“I’m sorry it took so long for me to realise it.”

“Well you did in the end, and that’s what matters.”

“Speak for yourself,” grumbled Sigrid, just quiet enough for them not to hear.

“Congratulations on your betrothal, as well Sigrid.” Smiled Legolas. “I hope that you are both incredibly happy together. Where is your betrothed anyway? I would have thought he’d have wanted to be here?”

“He and his brother are stuck in a meeting with the Clans. I never knew it could get so complicated but there it is.” She sighed. “Though things are going a lot more smoothly now that all the heirs are present for every meeting. Don’t ask,” she said, seeing Legolas’ confused expression. “I am much too tired to try and explain Clansman Politics. Ah! Speak of angels and they flap their wings.” Smiled Sigrid, looking towards the door, where an exhausted Fíli stood.

He looked around the room, catching sight of the last of the lords leaving and waving away their bows as he searched for the one face he cared about.

“Sigrid!” he smiled at her brightly before striding over and pulling her tight against him. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you. One of my earliest tests as your future husband, and I fail it miserably.”

Legolas and Tauriel exchanged quiet smirks as Sigrid laughed quietly. “Don’t worry, Marlûnoê,” she grinned. “This was my test, not yours, and you’re here now and that’s all that matters to me. How did the meeting go?” she asked, pulling away.

“Horribly, but that’s a massive improvement upon what it was like before.”

Legolas gave a small cough to bring them back round. “Aren’t you going to introduce us, Stepsister?”

“Ah yes, where are my manners,” said Sigrid, rolling her eyes. “Legolas, this is my betrothed, Prince Fíli of Erebor, heir to clan Longbeard and a load of other stuff I’ve not yet memorised. Fíli, this is my Stepbrother, Legolas, who I have told you all about.”

Fíli glared at the man in front of him, and even though Legolas stood a good head and a half taller than him, he still took an involuntary step backwards. If this was to end in a fight, he was certain he would lose.

“But,” added Sigrid, placing a hand on his arm. “He has helped us make sure Thranduil could not worm his way out of his crimes, and has thus been granted a pardon. Though not quite yet forgiven.” She said, locking eyes with him. “But perhaps someday.”

“Which is far more than I deserve,” nodded Legolas somberly.

“So what happens now?” asked Tauriel.

“Now, we go and find some dinner and decide what we’re going to do to Thranduil.”

“Good idea.” Nodded Bilbo as his stomach gave a rumble.

Dinner in their private quarters that evening was a larger affair than was usual outside of the Grand Banquet Hall. Dagní, Gimli and all those who’d ridden out to rescue Sigrid (who had not needed rescuing) were sitting alongside Sigrid, Balin, Bilbo and the rest of the royal family. Despite Thorin’s rather loud protestations, Tauriel and Legolas were also invited to eat on the understanding that they were Sigrid’s official family. Legolas felt incredibly awkward, sitting between Aragorn and Arwen, who had been the only people outside of his family who were willing to talk to him. He didn’t feel like he belonged at the table, and neither did anyone else if they were all entirely honest, but it felt too wrong to include everyone else and still exclude him, when he had been just involved in the arrest of Thranduil as the others. Sigrid had not quite forgiven him yet for his years of indifference towards her, but she felt it hard to keep her grudge against him. Especially when Tauriel was so fond of him still.  

So it was after much discussion over succulent roast lamb, fresh potatoes and honey glazed vegetables, that they decided upon what should happen to Thranduil. The farmhouse Sigrid had inherited would pass on to Mrs. Thacker and her children, so as they would not be forced to live in a home surrounded by the memories of those who hurt them. Thranduil would live with them in Sigrid’s old room, attending upon their every whim, whether it be cooking a four course meal, or cleaning the bathroom eight times a day. His punishment would be to live as she had done: to go from equal member of a household, to servant sleeping in what really amounted to a supply closet.

“Well, I think that’s an excellent idea, Sigrid. The punishment should fit the crime, after all,” smiled Éowyn in approval, as she helped herself to more of the dessert, wine and in doing so allowing Faramir a moment to sneak in to steal away a bite of her warm fudge cake. He received a hit to his knuckles for his efforts, but his triumph grin didn't fade as he licked his fork clean.

“It’s what Ma would have done.” Shrugged Sigrid, grinning at the antics of the young couple. Surely it would not be long now until the pair of them announced a date for their own betrothal? A quick glance at Boromir confirmed that she was not the only one thinking it.

She ran a hand along her new courting braids and glanced sidelong at her own Marlûno. They themselves had not yet agreed on a date, for she’d wanted to get everything with Dale and her Stepfather sorted first, but now that the deed was almost all but done, it was time to start thinking about dresses and dinners and all the many things there were to consider when announcing your love to an entire kingdom.

“A wise woman, your Ma,” nodded Balin. “I only met her the once, but from what I saw, I know that she’d be right proud of you.”

“I’m still not entirely convinced it’s enough though,” mused Dís. “A fitting punishment, yes, but it lacks any form of grim satisfaction.”

“I’m not certain, my Lady,” said Tauriel nervously from her position next to Sigrid. “That grim satisfaction is what we should be aiming for here. I do not think it wise to stoop to his level.”

“Says the girl who was all for slicing his throat,” said Sigrid, raising her eyebrow.

“Well, just because it’s something I wanted to do, and would have, doesn’t mean I should have done it.”

“My Lady is wise and noble indeed,” smiled Kíli from the opposite end of the table. Dís had once again thought it wise to separate the pair of them. She’d conveniently failed to talk to Thorin about the pair of them just yet. She was still getting to know Tauriel through Sigrid, and was not yet ready to openly encourage a courting between the pair of them.

After all, the girl did hail from Mirkwood.

“Justice is its own reward,” said Aragorn, wisely.

“We should not wish to inflict further unnecessary punishments onto others,” agreed Arwen.

“Nonsense,” scoffed Boromir, finishing off his tankard. “There may be justice in the eyes of the law, but his crimes deserve a justice of the soul! We will not see him as he goes about his tasks, it will have to all be imagined and where is the satisfaction in something that we cannot see?”

“Agreed,” nodded Fíli. “It’s true that justice has been served upon him in sending him to work for Mrs. Thacker, but I confess I want to see him humiliated as well.”

“I wonder what Uncle Frerin would have done?” mused Kíli.

“Oh,” said Thorin, speaking up at last. “I know exactly what my brother would have done.”

*

SPLAT!

“Great shot, Muinthel!” cheered Boromir.

“Are you ever going to explain to me what you’re calling me?” sighed Éowyn. She had her suspicions, judging by Faramir’s glares every time Boromir called her words such as ‘Muinthel’ or ‘Nîth’ or ‘Thelnîth’, however she’d rather know for certain. She didn’t like being the only one of them not to know what it meant. After all, she didn’t have anyone to talk to in Rohirric, and to some extent she was looking forward to taking Faramir to meet her family so as she could take her revenge on him for speaking in Sindarin, but was equally dreading the teasing her brother would put her through.

“Why don’t you just ask Faramir?” asked Arwen innocently.

“Oh for goodness sake, it means—umpf!” said Thranduil as Faramir launched a rotten tomato straight into his face, the red juice spilling down his face.

“The more ya’ talk,” said Dwalin gruffly. “The longer ya’ stay in there.”

“Why thank you Captain, I had no idea you—blagh!” a rotten cabbage caught him round the side of the head.

“This is a lot more satisfying than I thought it would be,” said Sigrid, testing out an orange for ripeness, before deciding that it was squidgy enough to send it flying towards the top of Thranduil’s head. It landed squarely on his forehead, causing orange liquid to drip down his face.

Thranduil had been stuffed into the stocks for the last hour, and the evidence was all over his face. His once proud appearance was laid bare as fragments of rotten fruit began to solidify on his face, the juices dying his silver-blonde hair yellow and red; its luscious sheen destroyed as it clumped together in a sticky mess. The man was not helping himself very much either, he was originally only sentenced to a day in the stocks, but with his complaining and shouting along with the insults he’d thrown at the people from the village who’d gathered to have their own fun, he’d earned himself another day. After all, Mrs Thacker was perfectly happy to wait a little while longer for her new maid to begin work, just so long as she got to have a go with a mouldy peach as well.

“There is something pleasing about it,” hummed Tauriel, watching with interest. She’d only felt it right to have one go, but she had been the first to catch him with his mouth open, forcing him to swallow some of the rotten flesh of the tomato.

“It’s nice to see your vindictive style, Ghivashelê.” Laughed Fíli, as Sigrid hit Thranduil square between the eyes with a decomposing plumb. “Remind me never to cross you--your aim is far too good.”

“This was your Uncle’s idea, not mine. I just wanted to make him live as I had.”

“True, but you’re enjoying this a lot more than someone looking for ‘legal justice’ should.”

“Well, I’m allowed to go against the family morals occasionally.”

“You mean like marrying a clansman?” he asked, innocently.

“Exactly. Traditions are made to be broken. Especially when the rewards of such are so sweet a thing.” She winked as she watched Boromir send a cabbage straight into the side of Thranduil’s face.

“I can think of a few other traditions that might be nice to part with.” Fíli whispered in her ear, in the pretence of grabbing another projectile from the basket.

“Hmmm, sounds like something we should talk about later on. In the garden perhaps?”

“Say, eight o’clock? After dinner?”

“Oi!” called Dís over from where she was talking with Dwalin. “I wasn’t born yesterday! If you're planning on escaping your chaperones, you’ll need to do a better job than that!”

The pair of them rolled their eyes in tandem, clutching hands. Dís was right: it was a test of every couple’s worth as to how well they were at escaping the eyes of the chaperones. If they were hoping to do their ancestor’s proud, they’d certainly have to think up some better ideas. But they certainly had plenty of those to put into action. They just had to find a way to fit them around all the extra work the pair of them now had to do. Still, if something was worth doing, it was worth doing well, and, in Sigrid’s opinion, Fíli was definitely something worth doing.

“So you see,” smiled Gandalf proudly. “Dale is back in the hands of an heir of Girion, and is thriving more than ever! Erebor is all the stronger for the love between their Prince and his wife; and their King and his consort. Rohan and Gondor are united by marriage, giving them both unforeseen advantages! Boromir is alive and well, and fully prepared to take on the responsibilities of Gondor now that his brother is happy and full of confidence in himself.

The fact that Princess Sigrid’s stepbrother now lives in Rivendell with two of her closest friends means that trade is able to flow through the Kingdoms peacefully. And, look, see!” Gandalf pointed proudly towards Lady Dagní. “By her rejection of an arranged marriage, she has been able to bring the Clans together like they have never been before.”

“Yes Gandalf,” sighed Saruman. “You have done a very fine job indeed. The lands of Arda have not been so united since its creation. You have achieved what I always thought to be impossible, you have my congratulations.”

“Impossible?” laughed Gandalf. “Oh Saruman, it was never impossible. You know it is not impossible to turn a pumpkin into a carriage, or a bird into a coachman, for songbirds to become eagles. So why would you think it impossible for a Clansman Prince to fall in love with a Commonfolk Servant?”

“You are correct, Old Friend.” Smiled Saruman. “Perhaps it is you who should bare the title of the wisest?”

“Oh, I do not think that is necessary,” smiled the Lady Galadriel. “Love will always find a way so long as we allow it to follow its own course. Also let us not forget, without my help, Mithrandir would not have been able to achieve any of this. Indeed, he would not even have thought of the idea.”

Gandalf choked slightly on his celebratory pipe “Well, I never said it was me alone who achieved this….”

Saruman rolled his eyes. “Of course you did not. My thanks then, my Lady,” he bowed to her. “You have truly helped the Istari in achieving the goal we have neglected to strive for all these years. Though I wonder, what happens now?”

“Well,” she smiled, looking up at the timelines as they flowed around them in the land between lands “I predict that they shall love one another until the end of time.”

And indeed, that is what they did. The love they shared would pass down from truth to legend to myth, a version of it spread across every land imaginable or otherwise. So much so, that many would declare it to be nothing but a fantasy; a story conjured up based upon common threads of humanity.

However, Dear Reader, I can assure you, that our pair of lovers and their children, and their children’s children lived happily ever after, till the end of their days and well beyond.

The End