IDEK. I was dying for more Fili/Sigrid but I didn't know what to do about it, so I just started writing. No plan, no goal, nothing. All I wanted was some Fili/Sigrid sweetness. After two straight days of writing virtually non-stop, this is the result. It's not much, but I had to get these two on paper before they drove me crazy with their pouting and their puppy dog eyes.
And since it's me, and I ship Kiliel like WHOA, I of course threw in a few mentions of the younger Durin and his lady love. ;)
Please enjoy! And don't take this too seriously. It was so much fun to write that I want everybody to have fun reading it, too. ^_^
I will go down with this 'ship harder than popsicle!Jack on the "Titanic," dammit.
PS - For the purposes of this fic, Sigrid is eighteen years old. I don't think her actual age is given anywhere, but when I first saw "Desolation of Smaug," I pegged her as late teens. So to avoid squicking myself out I've decided to make her 18, an age at which many young women would have been married and starting families of their own in the historical eras that inspired Tolkien's Middle-Earth.
The cool lake was a balm against Fili's hot skin as he eased into the sheltered pool. He'd stumbled across the hidden inlet several weeks ago while scouting for game, and it had become a favorite escape of his ever since. He hadn't even shared its location with Kili, making it one of the few secrets he and his brother had between them. The calm serenity of the surrounding trees, the soft lap of water against the shore, and the bulwark of boulders that formed a natural wall around the pool made it the perfect place to rest and recuperate after a long day. It was also deep enough to rise to Fili's midriff, which was just what his sore muscles needed on a day like today.
The work of rebuilding after Smaug's death and the subsequent battle – the Battle of Five Armies, as it had been dubbed – seemed never-ending, and while the rewards were great they didn't come easy. It was gratifying to see both Lake-town and Dale rising – quite literally – from the ashes of Smaug's destruction, and no amount of toil could dim the pride he felt watching his ancestral home of Erebor begin to once again resemble the halls of legend he'd heard about in stories.
That said, homes didn't build themselves, and crops didn't sow themselves, and livestock didn't feed themselves. Miraculous as the rebirth might seem, the settlements that rose in the radius of the Lonely Mountain could only come into being through the labor of the people who lived and worked there. Men and Dwarves worked side by side to restore the once thriving region to its former glory. Even the Elves helped, though Thranduil – ever insular – allowed only small parties at a time to venture down the Forest River, bearing seeds and fabrics and sturdy Mirkwood timber to aid in the rebuilding process. Fili was certain that, had it not been for Tauriel, even those brief forays would have been far fewer and much farther between.
He smiled as he thought of the willowy she-elf with the autumn red hair. It was no wonder Kili had fallen in love with her so quickly; they were both hard-headed and reckless to a fault, ready to openly defy their elders if they deemed it necessary. Thankfully Tauriel was somewhat more diplomatic than Fili's passionate little brother, and had managed to persuade her king to help the Men and Dwarves rebuild and restore the trade routes that would once again make the region a wealthy center of commerce.
Of course, Kili could be diplomatic himself when given the proper motivation, and Tauriel seemed all the motivation the younger son of Dis had needed to turn into a silver tongued ambassador for interspecies relations. Given that uncle Thorin – King Thorin, Fili reminded himself – hated elves only slightly less than goblins, it was nothing short of a miracle that Kili had finally managed to garner their uncle's – monarch's – blessing to court the pretty she-elf.
"You know," Balin had remarked to Fili one evening at dinner, as they'd watched Kili smoothly facilitate a conversation between Thorin and Tauriel that left the former looking only slightly disgruntled rather than purple with rage, which was his typical reaction to all things elvish, "if your brother devoted himself to diplomacy – in matters that involved more than fair maidens of Elvish quality – he would make a fine adviser to the king."
"I don't think you need worry about that, Balin," Fili responded with a grin, helping himself to some of the rich Dorwinion wine Tauriel and her company had brought as a gift for the King Under the Mountain. "That one's got a head hotter than a smelting forge. He'll not be replacing you at Thorin's side any time soon."
"I wasn't speaking only of Thorin, my Prince," the older dwarf had imparted with a twinkle in his eye.
Fili sighed at the memory and leaned back in the cold water of the lake, letting himself drift on his back as he gazed up at the clouds that scudded across the sky. Prince. He was a prince. All his life he'd known it but it still didn't feel as though the word applied to him. He was far happier currying a pony than currying favor. Kili may indeed make a fine adviser someday, but Fili couldn't imagine ever being a decent prince.
Or a king for that matter.
He'd thrown himself into the rebuilding of Dale and Lake-town, lending his sturdy arms and strong legs to the carpenters and stone masons and blacksmiths who needed manpower to put their wares to work. It was the neighborly thing to do, or so he'd told Dwalin when the tattooed warrior had asked why he spent so much time in the cities of Men. "Kili's spending all his time with the elves – well, ONE elf at least – so it makes sense that the other one of us should show some solidarity with Men, too."
It also helped that, for a little while each day, it gave Fili a chance to escape from the crushing orbit of the Throne Under the Mountain.
Tilting himself to his feet again, Fili stood on the floor of the cove and scrubbed at his arms and chest. His body had adjusted to the water's temperature by now and he took great pleasure in sluicing away the grime and sweat that came from hours of manual labor. The work was rewarding; the clean-up doubly so.
Taking a deep breath he ducked under the water, submerging himself fully. He kicked off toward the shore, holding his breath as he pulled himself through the water with a powerful butterfly stroke. As little dwarflings he and Kili would often challenge each other to contests to see who could hold their breath longer underwater. Fili always won, though now and then he'd fake a cramp so that his younger brother could enjoy a victory, too.
He was still caught up in the happy memory when he resurfaced with a gasp, so he didn't notice the young woman crouched directly in front of him until he heard her squeak of surprise.
His eyes flew open and he gaped at her. "Sigrid?" For a moment he didn't know what to do, then quickly started to move toward the shore, searching for his clothes.
"P-prince!" Bard's older daughter stammered. Her cheeks were bright pink. Fili was about to ask her if she was cold when he felt the cool air brush over his thighs and realized he was standing in the shallows.
Standing in the shallows and very, very naked.
Oh, bollocks.
+%+%+%+%+
Sigrid's plans for the day had been fairly boring.
Wake up. Make breakfast for her father, brother and sister. See to it that the Men and Dwarves who were working on the construction had enough refreshment. Spend some time with the other women of Lake-town, mending old clothes and helping stitch up new ones with fabric from the elves. Time permitting she'd planned to join Tilda at the vegetable patch. Then, with the last of the afternoon, she had intended to take some of the linens out to the lake for a good hard scrubbing and pounding against the rocks.
It was a busy schedule to be sure, but as the eldest child of Bard the Dragonslayer, hero of Esgaroth and Lord of Dale, she found herself to be in great demand. It was odd to have gone suddenly from the unremarkable daughter of a bargeman to one of the most important women in their dragon-scorched region of Arda, but she was used to shouldering responsibility. Now and then she'd catch her father's eye and she could tell that he regretted seeing her take on so many duties, above and beyond all that she already did for the family. Sigrid wished he'd stop worrying. She'd been taking care of Bain since he was a boy and Tilda since she was a babe in arms. Suddenly becoming the de facto Lady of Dale was exhausting, but nowhere near as bad as trying to get Tilda to take her medicine when she had a fever.
Nevertheless, Sigrid had been looking forward to having some time alone at the lake. Just her and the laundry and the birds singing. Maybe, if she was feeling particularly carefree, she might sing with them. Or maybe not. It was rare that she had the luxury of having a choice in what she did or didn't do, and she relished the opportunity to exercise a little free will.
And then she'd reached her favorite laundry spot and found it full of dwarf.
At first she hadn't seen him as she plunked herself down on one of the handy boulders on the shoreline. It was as she started to sort through the linens in her basket that she heard the soft splash and looked up, expecting to see the ripples of a passing fish, and found herself staring at the floating figure of the dwarf prince Fili. He was on his back in the middle of the cove, all but his face submerged. It was clear he hadn't seen her yet.
It was also quite clear that he was naked.
Oh dear. Oh dear oh dear...
Once upon a time Sigrid would have quietly gathered her things and scurried away. Just a few months back she wouldn't have even considered sitting here at the edge of the water watching a naked dwarf having a dip in the lake.
But that was before Sigrid had become the Lady of Dale and had suddenly found her opportunities to make purely selfish choices greatly curtailed. After all, what harm could it do? If he sees me I'll say I only just got here. He doesn't need to know if I watch for a little bit, does he? I won't try to see anything. I won't!
Only a few minutes had passed when he stood up, his back to her, water streaming from his heavy blond braids. The movement took Sigrid by surprise and she clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from making a noise. Where he stood the lake just reached his stomach, and she watched as he took great handfuls of water and scrubbed at his limbs and face.
That's right. She'd seen him working with the other workmen in town. They were rebuilding the marketplace. He must have come here to cleanup before heading home to Erebor. It was a bit odd that he'd choose to go out of his way and wash in the cold lake when he could probably have a nice warm bath back at the Lonely Mountain. Then again maybe he'd wanted some solitude himself, the same as her. He'd been a prince his whole life, but Sigrid suspected that being a prince-in-exile was much different from being a prince. Maybe not bargeman's-daughter-to-noblewoman different, but still different.
Lost in thought Sigrid hadn't noticed when Fili disappeared beneath the surface of the water. When he reappeared, erupting out of the water like a golden-maned sea creature, spraying water as he shook out his braids, she'd nearly screamed. Thankfully she'd managed to swallow the worst of her fright and all that emerged past her lips was a squeak of surprise.
Fili zeroed in on the sound instantly. Dwarves, Sigrid decided, must have ears like elves. "Sigrid?" He looked surprised to see her, so at least she could pretend she hadn't been watching him bathe for the past ten minutes and could say she'd just arrived.
He started to move toward the shore, and from the way he was looking around she could tell he was searching for his clothes.
Her eyes widened as she realized what this meant. "P-prince!" The lake had still reached his hips when he resurfaced, but as he moved toward land the water quickly receded.
Sigrid's cheeks flamed.
The same thought seemed to occur to Fili and he froze midstep, staring at her like a spooked horse.
That didn't help very much, because now he was standing stock still a mere stone's throw from her, the lake lapping around his knees as water streamed down his body. His very, very naked body.
Sigrid gulped around the dry, hot lump in her throat. Oh, Valar. Now what do I do?