Disclaimer: I own nothing.

OUR CHOICE

"If you look like that, you'll frighten her right out the Mountain."

Fili glared at his brother, who was cracking nuts between his teeth and spitting out the shells, all while smirking like a bastard. Honestly, it was a fresh miracle each day that Tauriel wasn't the one frightened out of Erebor. There was still time of course; she and Kili hadn't reached the crux of their betrothal yet.

Fili began to relace his left gauntlet – it had gotten snarled when he'd pulled too greatly, his thoughts stewing in distraction. Huth was lacing the right gauntlet and Gosdrami was buckling Fili's belt before leaving to retrieve Fili's sword. Fili would keep several knives in his hair of course; two for the ceremony, the rest because he wasn't foolish. He concentrated on the gauntlet, not on his brother, who was already dressed and was bound to wait with Fili as he'd be standing with him for the ceremony.

Huth and Gosdrami finished their tasks and at Fili's nod, bowed out of the room, leaving Kili and Fili alone. Fili stared into the long glass set up in front of him. He was dressed for his wedding; like a warrior. His breeches were soft earth brown, matching his boots, while his shirt was a paler twin, laced at the neck. His hair was threaded with beads and ornaments that marked him as a Durin heir and a Prince Under the Mountain, as well as one betrothed and one who had triumphed in many battles. Despite the knives that gleamed from beneath his braids and cloak, Fili could see nerves in his own expression and his brother's naked amusement just beyond his shoulder.

He threw the cloak he would use into Kili's face, scattering nut shells and gaining a surprised laugh from his brother. For shame that Kili could be so distracted not to block such a feint. But Kili's amusement was unrepentent still and Fili glowered into the glass.

"You're failing in your duty, brother," he bit out.

Kili grinned and dusted his hands free of stray shells, finally stepping close to Fili to tweak a braid or two straight. Fili didn't slap his hands away; he was too consumed by the worry that hadn't ceased rattling through him for weeks now. He was to be married today.

"Fili." Kili's hand was firm on his shoulder, calling him back. Their eyes met in the glass. "What's burning you? You can't carry it into the hall. I mean it, you'll frighten the girl and give those Iron Hill fucks too many steps forward."

Fili didn't laugh; it wasn't a laughing matter. Too many Dwarves from the Iron Hills had made it known that Durin's line had shown itself unfit to rule Under the Mountain, that Dain should take their place. A fresh start, free from dragon fever. Never mind that King Thorin had woken with clear eyes and a pronouncement that he would rule beside both his nephews and that he was taking Bilbo Baggins as his consort. To many that was proof of how far the Durins had fallen, mixing their bloodline in such a contrasting manner to Uncle Thorin's previous stance.

Fili and Kili called Bilbo 'Uncle' and made sure he didn't avoid his sword lessons. Fili had seen the way Uncle Thorin looked at Bilbo, how Uncle Thorin was with him. What else could have chased away a dragon's influence?

Now the Durin bloodline would dilute again, through Dale.

Fili's jaw clenched and Kili frowned, clearly not understanding. Fili could be cruel and claim Kili's obliviousness was because Kili and Tauriel had been so consumed by one another that nothing else mattered but that wasn't true. Neither had neglected their duties. Fili had concealed his worries even from Kili, not wishing to upend his brother's obvious bliss or affect the careful lines of betrothal that had been agreed on and that were so important to both Erebor and Dale.

Only now, alone with Kili and so close to the ceremony, did Fili's worries spill out for his brother to see.

"I'm going to marry her, Kee," he sighed, anguished worry rich in his voice.

"You're not...you're not having second thoughts?!" Kili sounded utterly horrified, his eyes wide. "Because Mum and Bilbo and Tauriel will kill you. And what about Uncle? And Bard? And Balin? And-."

"I'm not running," Fili interrupted.

He sighed again, staring at the glass, at the image he made – a bit like his faint memories of Dad and edges of the paintings he'd seen of Uncle Frerin, who'd never gotten to marry at all. Fili had always known he'd be part of an arranged marriage, that he might not even meet his bride before their wedding day. The thing was, he'd expected his future bride to be just as prepared for such a marriage too.

He stared into the glass for a moment more and then turned to look Kili properly in the eye, to voice the worries that had been plaguing him so.

"She deserves better."

"Better than the heir of Erebor?"

Fili shook his head, frowning. "Kee, all I can remember of her is flashes, she can't have more than that of me. We met once when Orcs attacked her house, because of us. That's all she knows of her husband."

Kili was frowning now, clearly not understanding. Fili clenched a fist in frustration, the emotion now as strong as his sickening concern.

"This was always going to be my marriage – knowing more about the kingdom I'm marrying into than about my wife. Sigrid's been Princess of Dale for less than six months."

Kili's expression cleared. "Fee, she's not going to be disappointed."

"She expected to marry someone she knew, a Man she loved, not a Dwarf prince she barely knows."

Fili's voice had risen but no one entered the room. Tradition held – they wouldn't be disturbed until it was time for the ceremony, then four sharp knocks would be heard to herald its beginning. Fili closed his eyes and felt Kili squeeze a hand to his shoulder before enveloping him in a sudden but expected hug. Fili hugged his younger brother back, his heart racing fast, his concerns jangling like braids improperly fastened. He held onto Kili tight; Kili didn't complain once.

"She deserves better," Fili repeated, with certainty.

Because the brief memories he had of Princess Sigrid of Dale were of her trying to drag her sister to safety under a table and how she'd seemed to be always moving and looking after others. He thought he remembered her smile; he hoped it wasn't a trick of the light. And what did she have of him? Uncle Thorin being terrible in Dale and how none of them had stopped him, Orcs attacking her house because of the Dwarves hiding there, then Uncle Thorin refusing to help her people.

Her life had been torn apart, literally burned away, because Uncle Thorin's Company had come to Dale, seeking the Mountain. She had enough to think of now, to try to comprehend, without a husband she didn't know, part of an unwelcoming race, that was taking her away from her family.

She deserved, and expected, someone who knew her, who wanted to marry her not her home. She was leaving her home to live in the Mountain, among strangers and a life that would be like nothing she'd ever known before. She couldn't have expected that.

Kili stepped back a half-pace, still holding onto Fili, his face serious. "She chose this too, Fee."

Fili glared at him. "Dale needs allies. It couldn't have sounded like a choice."

Fili had met with King Bard enough times since the Battle to know that King Bard wanted safety and happiness for his children and that he was chafing at the new roles being thrust on them so suddenly and at such young ages. But he didn't have a choice now and he knew it. His children knew it too.

It sat like a rock, like gold rubble, in Fili's stomach. He felt no better than Uncle Thorin; forcing a choice on King Bard's family that wasn't a choice at all. True, they had been born into a struggle, a different one than the Durins but still a struggle. But they had not been born into marriages arranged for political gain, lifetimes of royal duty and tradition, or the disappearance of home and everything they'd once known.

Kili shook his head, looking fond now under his own concern. "You're doing it again. You can't carry her too."

Fili cracked a smile at last – Kili liked to break him out of his heaviest moods by telling him he was looking like Uncle Thorin, bent double from carrying the world.

"Kee-."

"No, look, it's her choice, like it's your choice." Kili was back to being serious again and his expression was intense. "And she's been through enough. You acting like you don't want to marry her isn't going to help."

"She doesn't know me. She's marrying Erebor!"

"So show her Erebor! Show her the mines and the forges and the gardens Bilbo's working on. Show her the kitchens and get Bombur to make something like she has at home and the cakes you used to steal when Mum was busy. Talk to her and tell her you're scared and acting like an idiot and she'll get to know Fili, not just Erebor."

There was a stunned silence after Kili's words. Fili hadn't said one bit about being scared but he was. Everything had happened at once and Uncle Thorin expected him to do his duty. Mom expected him to see the larger picture but she didn't expect him to bite his tongue and endure an unhappy marriage. Was this going to be an unhappy marriage?

Fili didn't want it to be, for Sigrid. For him...he thought about her possible smile.

He was sure she would look beautiful in gold and blue.

Kili smacked him hard across the cheek and grinned. "Now there's a look not to scare her."

Fili smacked him right back and they both rocked in close, their foreheads pressed together, no need for words. Princes of Erebor, soon to be married, one sooner than the other. Married.

Sigrid was here, in the Mountain, willing to marry Fili. Maybe she had made a choice like Fili, for her people and maybe for him too. They were going to do this, together. That was a choice too and one Fili really wanted to make. He couldn't do this without her.

Something danced in the pit of Fili's stomach. It wasn't a rock anymore.

There were four sharp knocks at the door.

-the end