However carefully revised, there may be some spelling mistakes, as English is my second language. I apologize for them. Hope you will like it!
I had been his wife for nearly a whole spring, and he was still a stranger - bounded to me forever.
A daughter of a great chief of Men of the Grey Mountains, my fate was a marriage for my people's sake. I never expected happiness from my future match. I always thought that getting the appreciation of my future husband and holding him in high esteem in rewards would meet all my requirements. I only dared to weep secretly when I learned that I was going to marry a dwarf lord who lived in Erebor - a kingdom which was built within a mountain, cut from all sunrise and air - and I was to live beside him. * However, I could console myself that my husband would be the nephew of the King Under the Mountain– moreover, as the king had no son, his heir to the throne of Erebor. A prince and a great warrior, who survived many adventures and battles to reclaim his homeland and whose heart would be brave and fierce. He was young in dwarf ages and also said to be handsome – at least by dwarven measure. When I left the Grey Mountains to meet him in his homeland, I thought that my fate would lead me to content. After all, I was going to be a princess, in time, a queen maybe. I was determined to be a good ruler by the side of my future husband.
But all these desires seemed incidental when I arrived at the Mountain and I was introduced to my future relatives, including my groom. Though he greeted me warmly, the King was a stern and strict dwarf-man, hardly ever smiling. His younger nephew, my future brother-in-law was rather a joyful fellow; though I heard he had also participated in the quest for their homeland, he still was like a child with his never-fading cheery smile and constant laughter. But the one who impressed me the most – was my betrothed. He came up to me and smiled at me.
'Lady Líf, I welcome you dearly.'** As a greeting, he kissed my hand. His smile was so warm that I felt myself bathing in the sunrise again. Golden locks were waving around his shoulders. I was taller than him by one or two inches yet I still felt frail next to him; he was so robustfully built. His deep blue eyes were gleaming with a tender light as he led me through the corridors of the mountain palace, showing me around.
The way he looked at me, the way he touched my waist and the way his strong hands squeezed on my hips a little made no doubts about his desire for me and I was shameless enough to return his gentle glances and light caresses. Falling in love with my husband seemed not a distant dream anymore. And I was especially blissful because I saw my growing affection mirroring back in his eyes. He took delight in me and his gentle behavior towards me was sincere.
Our day came, with such a feast that would have pleased even the high kings of the First Age. As we were declared man and wife, I blushed a bit beneath my diadem because I couldn't help but think of what was coming up. I was eager to be in his arms at last. He noticed my pink face and winked at me above his smile. Standing beside him, I felt the deepest happiness ever in my life.
Then trouble came like ice-cold shower.
We went through the great hall, accompanied by the attendance of our relatives and servants. The only one from my family who could make to come to my wedding was my younger brother – he was a head taller than me but still a foolish, cheerful lad who was always in need of cracking jokes, even when he should have kept his mouth shut. Just like my brother-in-law. But those who are connected to us are always more easily forgiven for deeds which earn a severe punishment to those who are little more than strangers.
We walked down the stairs, arms in arms with my husband, and my brother on my other side. We headed towards our places at the tables, and as we were seated next to the king, I had to leave my brother behind. Before he turned to take up his place, he bent over to me and kissed me on my cheek.
'Make sure to stay with your little husband, sister, you might lose him in this mess!' he laughed at me then turned away, not even waiting for my answer.
Not like I had any answers prepared, I was so shocked. He was a master of witless jokes but this put the lid on it. But I got really frightened when I felt my husband's arm loosen around mine. I looked at him slowly but he didn't look back at me – his eyes were cold and full of suppressed anger. It was clear that he also heard my brother's remark and by all means – being not less stubborn than any of his kin –, he did not appreciate jokes about his appearance.
'My Lord Fíli, please…' I tried to save what could be saved but he silenced me with a harsh sight.
'I will not hear any more.' he said quietly but his voice trembled with ire. He led me to our place, sat the night with me; we smiled, waved and had light-hearted talks, but he did not pay me gentle touches or heated glances through the evening. I hardly could eat anything and when I drew back to my chambers, I hardened my heart and smiled at the jokes and slippery remarks that accompanied my way. I guess I could manage to blush a little as well. When I was left alone in my bedroom – besides all its luxurious furniture, it seemed like a prison cell without windows -, I flopped down in an armchair and waited.
I didn't know how much time had gone by as the voices of the feast slowly died and the silence of the night turned into dawn. I didn't know when I had fallen asleep amongst my tears. As I presumed, he didn't visit me – not that night and not on the next, nor any nights after.
Weeks and months passed. As the heir's wife, I attended the royal councils, I spoke for my opinion. There were some older dwarven counselors who liked my way of thinking and they supported me, which ended in a rather surprising result: sometimes the King himself agreed with me. Too bad my own husband was beyond stubborn to do so. He never praised me and though I tried to talk to him, he never discussed even lighter topics with me. During daytime, we would always sit next to each other, having breakfast and dinner together, and he was always kind to me – but his kindness was empty, without any pleasing intent. From time to time, my eyes met his, just to notice the sad lights in them, but he never deepened the eye contact; he usually just turned his head away in that instant he noticed I was looking at him.
I slowly gave up hope that he would ever visit my bedchambers; my nights were lonely, cold and dark. Yet, the King listened to my advices; my young brother-in-law took pleasure in my company and he could always cheer me up with his light-hearted manner. Clearly my husband never mentioned his mortification to any of his kin, and I knew Durin's folk well enough that if he did so, my fate would be considerably wretched under the Mountain. Sometimes I wondered: how can someone so generous be so unyielding?
Nearly three months had passed since my wedding day and at a warm spring night to be spent alone again, I decided I had had enough. Of nothing, to be exact.
I put on my nightgown that was meant to be worn on my wedding night. It was made of a very soft silk, translucent like pale sunrise, following the curves of my body – exactly designed for my goals. As upper clothing, I wore a light robe that could be laced on its front, sleeking to my waist. I let my long red hair fall freely. My heart was throbbing in my throat when I left my chambers and headed off to the suites of my husband.
The guards greeted me with a bow and I felt relieved as they did not stop me. I stood in front of the heavy wooden door of his bedchamber; I heard laughter and talks from inside. I recognized the voices of my husband and my brother-in-law. I had to take a deep breath before I spoke to the guards and I could only hope that my voice would not tremble:
'Tell Lord Fíli that I wish to talk to him.'
They bowed again and one of them opened the door and stepped inside the room. I waited impatiently as the talk suddenly stopped. After a moment of silence, the guard stepped outside.
'His majesty awaits you, princess.' he told me, as he opened the door to me. I stepped into the room and as it was closed behind me, I shivered. This definitely was the point of no return.
*It might sound a bit ridiculous, as this is an AU fanfiction based on the movie character of Fíli, but I hold the Tolkien-lore in high esteem and try to be as faithful to it as I can. In this case, I could think freely, if I can say so – Tolkien did not tell us much about social manners and institutions of the dwarves. As far as we know, they were unsociable people who made friends and enemies easily. They were not isolated, however, because many of them worked in the villages of people or trading with them and other races as travelling merchants – so I can imagine there were mixed marriages, especially regarding political matches. This is another point where I might have made a turn from Tolkien, as he wrote that there are very few dwarven women and not all of them marry. I don't think he imagined solving the problems of inheritance by marrying a human maiden to a dwarven lord, but my explanation is that politics are not so easy to avoid, especially in a royal family where matches were mainly made upon entering into alliances. And to Erebor, a strategical connection with a powerful Northern tribe (maybe bringing some blood into the royal line from Númenorean descendants as well, but that would definitely be very Mary-Sue-ish) could be quite prosperous.
**Líf (prononuced the same as 'leaf'): as she is from the North, I chose a name from her which comes from old Scandinavian origins (from where all the dwarves' name come from actually). The Viking Answer Lady website (very useful, go, check it) gives this explanation to this name: Originally a by-name. Possibly related to Old Icelandic hlífa, "to give shelter, to cover" and to hlífð, "defence, protection". The form Líf may be Hlíf with the initial h lost, or it may be related to Old Icelandic líf, "life". The name Hlíf appears in Landnámabók for Hlíf hestageldr ("horse-gelder") in ch. 27; Hlíf Hrólfsdóttir in ch. 66; and Hlíf Heðinsdóttir in ch. 68. The name Líf appears only in mythology.
