A/N: My first foray into The Hobbit fandom. This is also posted over on AO3. I'm Agent_Snark there if you prefer. I look forward to reading your reviews and comments!

Chapter 1

The first time Fili woke, he wasn't sure he was awake. Everything hurt. He could feel someone wrapping something around his leg. Excruciating pain lanced up his limb and into his back. He tried to protest, tried to raise his hands but he hurt too much. All he could really move were his eyes. Nearby, towards his feet, he could see his uncle laying on his own cot as healers moved around him, Oin shouted orders for more bandages and hot water and needles and salves. Thorin, hands shaking in his own pain, carefully braided Bilbo's hair.

Fili tried to protest. Thorin shouldn't be putting those braids in their burglar's hair until he was better and they could have a proper ceremony, not until his amad had arrived at least. Dis would be furious to know she'd gained a brother-in-law before she made it to Erebor. And since when had Thorin planned to even propose to Bilbo? He'd known they were close but hadn't realized they were that close, let alone courting and engaged.

"Smart to have someone immune to gold lust on the throne, even if it is just a consort," someone murmured nearby.

A marriage of state then, of convenience, not of love.

Fili gagged at the notion.

Someone shouted by his head, calling for something he thought he recognized but couldn't think of what it was. Everything was so odd, so muddled, so loud. The pain didn't help. Thorin was finishing the braids in Bilbo's hair and his hands dropped, exhausted as the King Under the Mountain fell unconscious.

A cup met his lips and he drank reflexively. His throat burned with the effort. He dropped back into oblivion again.

The next time Fili opened his eyes, he wasn't in nearly the same amount of pain. He could feel his hand was loosely wrapped around something and what he thought were two hands kept his fingers in place. He blinked his eyes open slowly, fighting against the dim light of the room. His brother's sleeping face greeted him.

"Kili?" he asked, voice coming out a rasp. His fingers tightened around what he held, realizing it was his baby brother's hand.

"He lives."

Fili looked up, toward the voice. The redheaded elf captain sat at the head of the large bed he and his brother had been placed on. She was the one holding their hands together. What was her name? Kili had taken a liking to her and had mentioned her name more than once. He struggled to think of it.

"I am Tauriel," the elf said, seemingly noticing his internal struggle. "It is good you are awake. I'll send for your kin." She released their hands and went to the door. Instinctively, Fili gripped his brother's hand tighter. His hand ached at the attempt and dismay coursed through him at how feeble his grip felt even as he held on with all his might. The elf returned.

"How is he?" Fili asked, not looking away from his brother. A few small pink healing scars littered the skin he could see on the younger Durin and on himself. His throat closed up on the last word and he started to cough.

"Here, drink." Something touched his lips and he obediently opened his mouth. Cool water dripped in and he swallowed reflexively. The amount was too small and he continued to cough until more water was given. Finally, after a few more additions, the coughing ceased.

"We will know more when he wakes laddy."

Fili struggled to look around, his eyes finally finding Oin entering the room. The healer approached and started checking Fili over, patting and prodding and poking and searching under bandages.

"You've been out for almost a month," Oin explained as he worked. "We weren't sure you would wake. You have the elf lass here to thank for that. I don't know as I would have been able to keep you three alive."

"Three?" Fili asked.

"Aye, three," Oin said. He looked up, nodding toward the doorway.

Fili followed his gaze and felt his throat constrict again, this time for an entirely different reason. "Uncle Thorin," he managed to choke out past the lump.

Thorin Oakenshield leaned heavily on a cane in the doorway. He wore clothes similar to what he'd traveled in, minus his armor, just shirt, tunic, and trousers. His crown, any and all finery for that matter, was absent. The only things of any value he wore were the silver beads in his hair and a single, unadorned, silver ring on his left hand.

"You had us worried, Fili," Thorin said.

"Sorry," he croaked. He felt so tired but he didn't dare take his eyes away from his uncle or his little brother but he had to ask. "The others?"

"All survived," he said. "You and Kili are the worst."

"Bilbo?" he had to ask, to make sure the figure he'd seen having marriage braids put in his hair wasn't a figment of his imagination, brought on by blood loss and whatever mess of medications they'd poured into him.

"Here, Fili. I'm here." Thorin stepped aside to let the hobbit into the room, his hand instinctively going to rest on the smaller male's shoulder. Bilbo didn't even flinch at the contact and Fili marveled a moment. To think he could forgive his uncle and trust him so easily after Thorin had threatened his life.

"Alright, you've seen him awake," Oin said. "Go tell the others while he gets back to sleep. He needs rest. Get some willow bark tea."

"Yes, Master Oin." Fili glanced toward the foot of the beds where the voice came from to find a dwarrowdam, probably a bit younger than Kili.

"Drink up lad and sleep," Oin ordered. "Hopefully the next time you wake your brother will have woken too. You give us more hope." The old healer helped him sit up enough that he could sip at the bitter tea. Sleep drew him away before he could finish the cup.
He dreamed of dragon fire and orcs. Gold and death.

The next time he woke, he still held Kili's hand, this time without assistance from the elf who still sat near their bed, now to the side besides his little brother. Like last time, he first asked after his brother in a croak.

"He woke yesterday," Tauriel said, a fond smile on her face as she gazed at Kili. "You will both recover from your wounds though it may take a while."

Fili breathed a sigh of relief and submitted to more nasty tasting teas Oin gave him when the healer arrived. He slept again.

He drifted in and out of consciousness for what he was told was the next few weeks. Each time he did, he felt stronger. He started to wake more naturally instead of when the teas and medicines wore off, leaving him in pain. That lessened too, leaving him feeling more willing to try to move on his own. Unfortunately, he never woke when his brother did and he was left yearning to see Kili awake.

It was some time later when Kili's movements woke him. He'd been dreaming about riding down a river in that barrel that had smelled so strongly of apples when suddenly his hand was shaken violently. He startled slightly, coming to faster than he had in a while. He looked to the side to see his brother reaching his hand into Tauriel's hair and pulling her down for a kiss.

Feeling generous and just happy to see his little brother awake, Fili gave them a moment of loving contact before saying, "Better not let Uncle catch you." He snickered as they jumped apart. If they moved that fast at his voice, they'd probably kill themselves trying to seem innocent if Thorin caught them.

"Fili!" Kili gasped and turned where he lay. He wrapped his arms around Fili who returned the hug with just as much enthusiasm. They both cringed when aching, healing wounds made themselves known at the contact. Fili noticed Tauriel head toward the door, presumably to inform someone that they were awake as always happened when he woke.

"It's good to see you awake Kee," he said, shifting so their foreheads touched. "Although I'd rather not wake up to the sight of you kissing someone. Couldn't you let me sleep?"

"Loosen your grip then," Kili retorted, "or you could just not watch." He turned his eyes back up to Tauriel as she retook her seat, a grin tugging at his lips. "You're going to have to get used to the idea though Brother."

Fili shuddered in mock horror. "Please," he begged, "don't make me watch my little brother kiss anyone. The very idea is unbearable."

Kili laughed and then winced, his ribs straining.

Thorin entered the room with Oin and Bilbo. Fili tried not to flinch at the sight of the marriage braids in his uncle's and the hobbit's hair.

Oin started poking and prodding at him before he could start to feel ill at the sight. The process was routine now and Fili was even able to carefully push himself into a sitting position this time to make it easier for Oin to check the wound on his back, the one that should have killed him. The healer then moved the blankets aside to check his broken leg, loosening the splints.

Once Oin had checked him over and Kili as well, he declared, "They'll both recover though Fili my limp for a long time, possibly forever. Certainly when the weather is poor." His landing after Azog had thrown him from the tower had broken his leg and done something to the way it sat in the joint with his hip. He would possibly experience pain there every day for the rest of his life.

A ragged cheer erupted from those in the room. And Fili gripped his brother's hand, glad to hear that the damage done to his innards wasn't permanent. The infections had been fought off and all open wounds had all but closed entirely, leaving scars they'd carry forever, reminders to be thankful for the lives they still have ahead of them.

"This is not the life I wanted for you, my girl."

"A life of plenty? Of full bellies and the knowledge that it will always be so? That we will not starve when the snows come?"

Bard's lips quirked up at the corners at her display of optimism. "I had always hoped for that, strived for it. And I am so very, very glad for it to be true now." His smile faded a little. "I never did, however, want for your life to be decided for political gain."

A sinking feeling settled into the pit of her stomach. "What do you mean Da?"

"I am Girion's only heir. Against my wishes and better judgment, I will be crowned as King of Dale. You and your siblings will be crowned as prince and princesses."

"I'm aware of how lines of royalty work."

"As a princess-" his grimace deepened at the word "-you will be expected to marry for political advantage Sigrid, and not for love."

The bottom of her stomach plummeted further but somehow still managed to remain firmly in her torso. "I-I need air," she stammered and ducked out of their home and headed for the slopes around the Lonely Mountain.

"You jest," Fili said, trying to laugh off the situation.

Thorin flinched. "Fili, it's been a year since you recovered. The mountain is being rebuilt. More and more of our people return to the mountain each week. We must look to the future of our people now."

"How does this affect our people?" Fili demanded. "It's my personal life."

"We must create strong political ties with other nations. The easiest way to do so is through marriage."

File bristled. "You may have been willing to marry for political reasons," he growled and ignored the way Thorin and Bilbo both winced and glanced at each other furtively, "but I am not. You've got ties with the Shire," he nodded at his uncle's husband who is the grandson to the ruling Thain of the green country to the west, "and to the elves in Mirkwood through Kili's engagement to Tauriel. We have Dain and the Iron Hills to the east and those that remain in the Blue Mountains. What more do you want?"

"We have alliances, aye," Balin said, voice apologetic but matter-of-fact, "but if we are to survive until trade routes are established, we will need as many ties with other kingdoms as we can. The strongest alliances would be created through your marriage."

"Amad," Fili said almost pleadingly, looking to his mother who stood to the side of her brother, a scowl on her normally serene face.

"I am sorry Fili," she said and looked at her feet. Resignation and sorrow rang in her voice. He found no comfort there. "If you had found your One, maybe things would be different but as it stands, we must secure Erebor's safety."

Fili didn't bother responding. Taking up his cane, he turned and left the council room, slamming the door behind him. He would seek out his brother but Kili was off with Tauriel, working with Dori and Ori and the visiting delegation from Mirkwood to find ways to meld traditions from both cultures into a single courtship and wedding. He didn't want to dim his little brother's happiness with his own grouchy mood.

He'd go to the training grounds if he could but his leg still troubled him greatly. Oin said it was healing better than he had dared hope but that the recovery would still take time. He wouldn't be able to fight properly for some time yet. He still did what he could but actually sparring with someone, especially with someone that would challenge his skills like Dwalin did, was still out of the question. With rain on the horizon, he hurt even more than normal.

Fili returned to his rooms, grabbed the new travel fiddle he'd had made once a proper craftsman had returned to the mountain, and left the stone walls around him, heading up the slopes to find solitude while he played until his frustrations ceased and he could think clearer. Maybe then he'd be able to find an alternative that his uncle and his advisors had not seen.

The hike up and around the side of the mountain to a secluded area took him longer than it normally would have. Between being thrown off balance by the fiddle case across his back and struggling with his aching leg, the sun was high in the sky. He leaned his cane against the rocks and set his instrument aside. He'd rest before he started to play. He paced, limping heavily without his cursed cane, trying to think of a way around the prospect of an arranged marriage.

"A political marriage is the only way to make the kingdom strong," he grumbled under his breath. He turned to look at the mountain and he felt his anger grow.

"Not bloody likely!" he shouted and then jumped as a second voice joined him in the same words. He whirled. A young woman's head appeared above a grouping of rocks to stare at him. She looked familiar.

"Prince Fili?" she asked, eyes wide in shock. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you were here."

He remembered her now. He hadn't seen her for a few months but he remembered. "Lady Sigrid," he said. "What are you doing here?" He picked his cane back up and the case to round the rocks to where she was. Her coat was laid out on the ground where she'd been apparently sitting on it out of his view.

She heaved a sigh as she motioned for him to join her. He did so, leaning his fiddle on the rock gently and setting his cane next to him once he was settled. She sat next to him when he patted the spot on her coat he'd left for her.

"Avoiding politics," she told him once settled.

"Political woes seem to be going around," he muttered as he leaned back on his hands and stretched his aching leg out in front of him, trying to take pressure off the joint at his hip. "Which do you face?"

She grimaced. "Expectations for a royal wedding."

"You too, huh?" he asked and shifted, trying to find a better way to situate his leg.

She crossed her legs in front of her, leaned forward, set her elbow on her knee, and propped her chin in her open palm. "Is King Thorin telling you to marry as well?" she asked looking slightly up at him from her bent position.

"As a newly reestablished kingdom, it's expected for us to create strong ties with all peoples of Middle Earth. Kili has Tauriel, Uncle has his Hobbit consort, Amad had my father who was a dwarf of the Blue Mountains, and we have kin in the dwarrow of the Iron Hills. All we need now is a solid alliance with men."

"I thought you had that with the alliance written up with my father and the people of Dale."

"Written alliances aren't as strong as marital," Fili said.

They heaved simultaneous sighs. "Being royal isn't any fun," Sigrid said. "Ever since Da slew that dragon and the battle ended he's been worked to the bone and people now expect so much from my brother, sister, and me. I miss being a bargeman's daughter, poor though we were."

Fili nodded. "There are days I miss being a jeweler and musician," he admitted. "Times were slimmer then but it was honest work and it was easier being a prince in name and nothing more." They stared at the distance in comfortable but brooding silence for a time before Sigrid threw up her hands.

"I'm tired of thinking about it," she said. "You say you were a musician before you retook the mountain. Will you play?" she nodded towards his fiddle.

Fili glanced at the case now regretting not grabbing one of the finer instruments. He shrugged though. He'd come up here to play to clear his head. Maybe having an audience would help him remember his time in the Blue Mountains. Pulling the instrument out, he started tuning it. "Any requests?"

Sigrid shook her head. "Do you have perfect pitch?" she asked as she watched him.

He tested the strings and adjusted just a little more. "Yes," he said. "Do you play an instrument?"

"No," she said, "but my father used to sing all the time. It's odd to think of a bargeman knowing musical theory but he does."

Fili smiled and then drew the bow across the strings. Happy with what he heard he started playing from his seated position. He should stand, he knew, but he just didn't want to deal with the pain in his leg right then. Instead, he concentrated on the piece he played, a drinking song from Ered Luin. Most of what he knew was more fit for taverns over great halls of a recovered kingdom so he rarely played outside of his own rooms these days and he found himself happy to be playing for someone. Sigrid smiled and listened, clapping her hands to the beat for certain songs.

"Oh! I know this one!" she said as he started the intro to a third song.

"Then you should sing," he said, grinning.

So Sigrid sang the silly song of a young man that went to sea only to fall in love with a mermaid with green hair and pale blue skin on his first voyage. Fili joined in on the chorus. When the song ended, he set his violin aside and applauded her even as she laughed and applauded him.

"Your father isn't the only one in your family that can sing," he said. "That was lovely."

A charming blush rose in her cheeks as she gazed at her lap. "Thank you," she murmured. "It was nice hearing you play. You're very good."

Fili snorted. "I'm well enough," he said. "It brought in extra coin to play at taverns and inns. Kili plays too and he sings better than I do. I haven't played with him in a while. I don't know if he still does."

"I'm glad you still do," Sigrid said. "That was fun." She stretched her arms above her head and he heard faint cracking sounds race up her back. "Thanks. I needed something fun today."

He grinned at her. "You're welcome." They stared back at the view again, Fili keeping his fiddle on his lap, wondering if he should play something more when a raven dropped to the rocks next to them and pecked at his good leg and squawked at him. He sighed. "Fun time's over," he said. "I'm being summoned." He looked at the bird. "Let him know I'm on my way down but it will take a while. Leg and all." The bird took off as Fili started packing up his fiddle. As he stiffly rose to his feet, Sigrid stood as well and offered a polite smile as she gathered up her coat, shaking the dirt and dust off it.

"I'm glad I ran into you today," she said.

"Me too," he said. "I hope to see you again soon. Good luck with your suitors."

She rubbed a hand down her face. "I wish you hadn't reminded me," she groused but her lips twitched in a half smile. "Good luck your highness," she said, dipping into a curtsey.

He bowed and bid her farewell, heading back toward the path he'd originally climbed, leaning heavily on his cane. By the time he reached the road to Erebor pain was lancing up his leg and spine. He managed to flag down a cart and get a ride into the city on the back.