Chapter Text
Sigrid pushed her plate away with a groan and leaned back from the table.
“Quitting so soon, Sigrid?” Kíli teased through a mouthful of food, nudging her with his shoulder. “But it’s so early in the day!”
“There’s no way I could eat another bite!” she moaned, rubbing her stomach. “It was wonderful but I’m absolutely stuffed.”
Fíli reached over and plucked the remains of her toast from the plate. “More for me, then.”
“Oh leave the lass alone,” Dís scolded, throwing an arm around her from her other side. “Don’t you be ganging up on her now I’m leaving.”
“Thank you, Lady Dís,” Sigrid said pointedly. “I don’t know how I’m going to deal with both these boys on my own. Are you sure you have to go?”
Dís sighed. “Unfortunately I must. We got snow a few days ago on our way back to Erebor, and the weather will only get worse. Winter’s on its way. There’s enough of us that we’ll be moving slowly, and I’d not much like to sleep outside in the frost for long.”
“Of course, of course,” Sigrid nodded, then sighed dramatically with her face in her hands. “I’ll find a way to cope.”
“Well, you know,” Dís leaned in and whispered in Sigrid’s ear. “The blond one’s always been ticklish behind the knee, and if you pinch Kíli right where his neck meets his shoulder, he’ll shriek like a stuck pig.”
Fíli frowned as his mother whispered to his giggling wife. “I don’t like this, I don’t like this at all.”
“Hush, you. I just don’t want to leave your lady wife unarmed. Oh! Speaking of--” she reached under the table for a bag, holding her mustache braids and beard out of the way of the breakfast dishes as she did so. “I never gave you your wedding gift, Sigrid.”
“Ooh! What is it?” Kíli cooed, peeking under the table and following his mother back up.
“Oh, Dís, you shouldn’t have,” Sigrid protested, cheeks tinging pink. “It’s more than enough you coming all the way up here, then staying to fight--”
“Psh, don’t be silly,” she tutted, digging in the back and producing a rolled up piece of leather, tied with a thong. “It’s tradition. To welcome you into our family. So, welcome!”
Sigrid took it from her gingerly and moved her dishes out of the way, then unrolled the soft leather on the table. Inside were sheathed five small knives with short, undecorated hilts. She pulled one out and gasped. “This hardly weighs anything!”
“Mother,” Fíli breathed, delighted. “They’re perfect!” Seeing Sigrid’s hesitation to comment further, he added, “Now you have the dagger I gave you, and these knives to throw. Every Dwarf should carry something for both ranged and close combat. Now you’re set!”
“Mother,” Kíli butted in, “these are gorgeous and I’m very jealous. When do I get mine?”
“If you want some you can very well make your own,” she retorted, closing her bag. “You’ve already been in my family for quite some time, I’ve no need to welcome you.”
Sigrid cut off the family banter by throwing her arms around Dís’ neck. “Thank you, so much. They’re wonderful, I can’t wait to learn how to use them.”
Fíli smiled to see them already so close. His mother had always been fairly easy-going, always prepared to see the best in people of all shapes and sizes, so he hadn’t really worried they’d get along. But it was one thing to think Oh, my mother will love you and another to see it in action. The way they were going on, he wouldn’t be surprised if she received more letters from Dís than he did from now on.
“Sister,” Thorin’s voice called from the doorway. He was wearing what Sigrid had come to call his “Outfit for Affairs of State”: The raven crown, a long, dark robe with the golden ray accents synonymous with the Line of Durin, and Orcrist belted around his waist.
“Ah, it’s time,” she said, bumping her forehead against Sigrid’s before she pulled away and rose from the table. Fíli, Sigrid, and Kíli followed her across the room to meet Thorin, and they all went out to the Great Hall where the other Dwarves from the Blue Mountains were waiting to take off. A ram stood patiently without his rider at the head of the group, saddled up and laden down with weapons, armor, and other supplies, and Dís led everyone over. She turned and bounced on her heels.
“Brother, it was so good to ride out to battle with you again,” she sighed, embracing him warmly. “You take care of my sons now, you hear? Don’t let them fall idle, you’ve seen what happens.”
“Mother!” Kíli complained quietly, though he had no further defense for himself.
A rare smile graced Thorin’s features as he hugged her back. “That I do, sister. Fíli will have a lot of work to do with me in the coming months. No one’s quite ready for winter.”
Sigrid glanced at Fíli who looked pleasantly surprised. She knew Thorin was not quick to praise with words, but to have Fíli work alongside him was quite the vote of confidence. This was only confirmed by Dís’ shining eyes.
Fíli cleared his throat and teased, “Kíli on the other hand…”
“You know what--” Kíli’s protests died off as he noticed Tauriel approaching from the living quarters. He brightened considerably and rushed over to her to take her hand.
“Lady Dís,” she smiled, “I’m sad to see you go so soon.”
“Oh, Tauriel, I wish I could stay too!” she answered brightly. “It was wonderful to get to know you on the road, and to battle beside you was a real honor. You’ve cultivated a considerable skill over the years.”
Tauriel looked down a moment, hiding the smile she couldn’t keep off her face. Kíli gazed up at her like she was his whole world. Thorin merely sighed, uncomfortable.
Sigrid grinned, nudging Fíli gently with her elbow. Kíli and Tauriel fit together so well and they were completely smitten with each other. It was good to see, too, that Sigrid wasn’t the only one flustered by Dís’ effusive nature. It was clear where Kíli got his romanticism.
“Thank you, Lady Dís,” Tauriel said finally. She leaned down and kissed the Dwarf on both cheeks, a feat which, given Dís was even shorter than Kíli, had her bent almost in half.
Dís just smiled and gestured for Sigrid to do the same. Then Kíli had his turn. She squeezed him tightly, promising, “I’ll be back for your birthday, son.”
“Can’t wait,” Kíli answered cheerily. He gave her one last kiss on her cheek, then stepped back and Fíli took his place.
“G’bye, Mum,” he murmured a little glumly, kissing her cheek as well.
No tight hug for him, considering his injuries, but Dís took his face between her hands and rubbed a thumb under his still-bruised eye. “Oh, son,” she breathed, “how you look like your father right now.” She shook her head and tsked. ”He, too, always managed to mess his face up in every skirmish. You look out for your lady wife now. I expect that by the time I return she’ll be able to use those gifts. They’re not just for setting on a shelf!”
“I will,” he nodded, voice thick. “We’ll get right to work.”
“Promise,” Sigrid added. “I’ll work hard.”
“As if you know any other way.” Dís winked at her and mounted her battle ram in one smooth movement. “All right, my dears, we’ll be on our way now. I’ll write you when we land in the Blue Mountains.” With that, she kicked her feet and the ram jerked into forward motion, setting off a wave of other rams, ponies, and boars that made up the rest of the Blue Mountain party.
Sigrid stood with her arm around Fíli, watching them leave. Thorin left as soon as the last Dwarf of the party had made it out the doors, and Kíli and Tauriel left soon after, muttering some excuse or another. But Sigrid stayed with Fíli as long as they could see the little dots of Dwarves travelling across the plains.
When they finally faded from view, Fíli took her hand and kissed it. “My mother loves you very much.”
“Seems your mother has a lot of love to give,” she responded quietly. Leading him deeper into the Mountain she added, “Besides, why shouldn’t she love me? I’m a delight.”
Fíli snorted and put his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. “Sure you are.”
~*~
Sigrid stood with her shoulders square, facing the target thirty feet ahead of her. Her eyes flit around the room. Was anyone watching her? There were several Dwarves working in the armory, sharpening blades, fletching arrows, or practicing. A few glanced her way and she slumped.
“Focus, Sig.” Fíli’s voice came from her left. “Everyone’s working on their own business; you don’t have an audience.” When she pulled a face, he added, “Come on now, chin up. Shoulders back.”
She followed his orders, turning her toes in the dirt. Her arms hung loose at her sides, and she fluttered her fingers as she waited for his next direction. It was a long time coming. She was about to look and see what was wrong, but as her eyes moved, he barked, “Loose!”
Her hand slipped inside her vest, grabbed the small knife between her fingers, and whipped it towards the bullseye. The hilt bounced lamely off the hay and clattered to the ground. “Damn it!” she groaned. “Come on! I do just fine when the knife’s already in my hand, what’s the problem?”
“You just need practice, my sweet. No one’s born knowing how to do this.” He moved behind her and pulled her shoulders back gently. “When you cross your body to grab your knife, you need to pull your arm all the way back again. Saving yourself the split second means nothing if you hit him with the hilt. Try again. Focus on getting the motion right. Then add the speed. You can do it.” He kissed the back of her neck and stepped away again.
She rolled her shoulders and shook her head sharply, trying to dislodge the niggling feeling that she was being watched. A deep breath, and she fixed her eyes on the target.
“Right foot back, Sig, but keep your hips square, remember?”
Ah yes. She slid her foot back a bit and wiggled her fingers again. She was going to get this right.
“Loose!”
Again, she slipped a hand into her vest, but this time made sure to pull her hand up to her ear, elbow up, then released the knife, following through so far she had to pick up her back foot to keep balance. Sigrid righted herself with a giggle, then raised her eyes to the target. The knife stuck solidly in the hay, outside the paper target completely. But it stuck.
“Yes!” she whooped, jumping up and grinning.
“See? I knew you could do it,” Fíli beamed at her as he clapped for her a few times. “Now do it again. See if you hit the paper this time.”
Sigrid retrieved her knives from the floor and the target, then went back to her mark to try again. Over and over Fíli would call and she’d throw. Sometimes they’d stick, sometimes they wouldn’t, but Fíli kept her alert, never falling into any rhythm.
It was fun watching her; Fíli loved seeing the focus in her eyes, the self-confidence eking in every time a knife stuck in the hay. She still needed work, of course. Any warrior worth their salt could see her attack coming from a mile away, and the knife fell to the floor as often as it stuck. But she had good instincts, and drive, and a grace that lent itself to the skill. After about a half hour, though, Sigrid’s arm was weakening and her technique was suffering.
“All right, love, that’s enough for today. You don’t do yourself any favors practicing tired and sloppy.” He hopped to his feet with a wince. Weeks later his core still ached whenever he moved too quickly, stretched the wrong way, or Mahal forbid it, laugh. Of course Kíli took advantage of this at every opportunity, jumping around corners, telling the worst jokes he could think of, and generally doing his best to walk the razor’s edge between “helping keep Fíli in good spirits” and “being bloody annoying.” At least he was in the forge today, so Fíli got a few hours’ break.
He moved to the target and pulled the three knives out of the hay as Sigrid retrieved the leather she wrapped them in.
“Ah, ah, ah!” she called as he gingerly bent to pick up the ones on the floor. “Don’t you even think about it, Master Dwarf.” Sigrid rushed to his side and swatted his shoulder before bending down to retrieve them herself. “I swear, you’ll never heal if you keep pushing yourself. It’s Tilda’s birthday in two weeks and we need to be able to ride down to Dale, but I’m not thrilled about your progress so far…” She frowned, worrying the strings on the leather-wrapped knives.
Now it was Fíli’s turn to glance around the armory. “Hey, let’s go upstairs, hm? Get a bath and you can take a closer look at me, how does that sound?” He waggled his eyebrows and took her elbow to lead her towards the living quarters.
“I swear to-- You are incorrigible,” she groaned, but followed him out to the hallway.
“Trust me,” he continued quietly, “if I could just magically be better I would. There’s quite a lot I’d like to be able to do and I can’t. But I’ve come back from worse, you know that.”
“Aye, but I wish I didn’t,” Sigrid answered. She slipped the knives under her arm and took his hand.
He squeezed it gently. “Before, it was much easier to sit in bed and wait for the pain to go away. Now I have you, and as you refuse to sit in bed all day with me--”
“Now that’s not fair. I have work to do! Óin can’t do everything himself. There are still patients to see and all our supplies are low again now--”
Fíli chuckled and squeezed her hand again. “Hush now, I was just teasing! Things are just different now, that’s all I was saying. I will heal. It will be all right.”
They continued in silence to their rooms but once the door was closed behind them Sigrid was all business again. “Off with your shirt.” She hadn’t had the chance to look at him this morning and she was eager to examine the progress of his bruising. He’d left early that morning for some council or another, and he’d let her sleep right through it.
The bruising across his torso had diminished significantly compared to his first day back, yellow on the edges and brown in the center of it, on his side. “This bruising on the surface will probably be all gone by this time next week,” she murmured, pressing gently just above and just below the dark blotches. “How does that feel?”
“Fine.”
She pressed as hard as she dared. “Now?”
“Fine, Sig. It’s just under the bruising that hurts these days, and only when I really push it.”
“All right,” she breathed, and crossed the room to sit on the bed. “I’m sorry, I know I’m being unreasonable, I just hate that there’s nothing I can really do.”
He sat beside her and she leaned into his shoulder. The solid heat reassured her more than any words ever could. It had been torture watching him go so soon. They hadn’t even gotten used to sleeping in the same bed, and off he’d gone, and she’d been alone again. But now he was back, and whole, and she hardly let him out of her sight if she could help it.
“Let’s just stay in bed the rest of the day,” she suggested quietly. “Forget all the stuff we have to do, forget all the people we have to see, just stay with me.”
“Oh, pretty Sigrid, you don’t have to ask me twice,” Fíli smiled, kissing her neck. “You have a lot to be proud of, you know. You’re making good progress with the knives, and you’re taking great care of the sick and injured here. Óin takes every opportunity to sing your praises, and you know how much that says. Mother loves you, too. I think she misses you more than me!”
Sigrid smiled. “Yes, I got a letter from her today, actually.”
Fíli groaned. “I knew this would happen. She thinks we don’t tell her the whole story, but that you’ll tell her the truth about how we’re doing.”
“Well…” she shrugged. “I don’t mind at all. I think it’s nice. Now here, come lay with me.” She crawled up to the head of the bed and lay on her side, facing the window Fíli had made for her. The sky was grey, and thick snow flakes were starting to fall, collecting on the ledge outside the glass.
He pressed up against her back and draped an arm over her. He doodled patterns into her stomach, dropped gentle kisses onto her neck and shoulder, nuzzled into her hair. “I like the curtain you put over the window,” he murmured after a moment. “It’s perfect.”
Sigrid huffed a laugh. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how little sleep you get with that sunlight coming in. But thank you. I’m glad you like it.”
“Are you happy, Sig?” His voice came quieter, more hesitant than he’d hoped, but he had to hear her say it. Sometimes he still couldn’t believe she would be happy here, with him.
“Oh Fi, you know I am. I’m still getting used to...everything, the way Dwarves do things, you know? Living under a mountain with a bunch of people all together, not in a house with just my siblings and my da. Working in a hospital. Being married to royalty. Being married…” Sigrid blushed and snuggled closer to him. “But then I get you to myself for a little while, and it’s just so… perfect.”
He hummed in agreement, letting his fingers trail under the hem of her vest. “Sure feels perfect,” he replied.
Sigrid turned to lay on her back, then reached up to the back of his neck to pull him down for a kiss. Her mouth tasted as sweet as the first time he’d kissed her, and he reached down to undo the belt keeping her vest closed. She let him push the fabric over one shoulder, then the other, leaving her in just an oversized, thin shirt.
Fíli broke away to look at her for a moment. Her hair was falling out of the comb he’d given her for her birthday and lay on the pillow around her head in a sort of halo. Her lips were already flushed from his attention, curved into a shy smile. He returned it, running a thumb over her exposed collarbone. Mahal, was he blessed. She was gorgeous, and she was his.
“What?” Sigrid asked, self-conscious at his pause.
“Nothing,” he answered as he went back to work to show her just how much he loved her. “It’s just… Perfect.”