The Feast of Victory had been a joyous occasion to mark the passing of the fifth year since the battle. In previous years when the loss had been too fresh in their hearts it had been a sombre affair, but this night was different. This had been a night for honouring all that had fought to defend and that meant bountiful food, barrels of Dorwinion wine, music, and naturally; dancing.

The dwarves began the songs and what lively melodies they were, meant for one to lose their breath as they stomped their feet and twirled about. The younger sons and daughters of men had been next to take up the dance, fumbling and laughing as they attempted to match the vigour of the dwarves. However the tables were turned when the songs changed and soon it was the dwarves' turn to match steps with their allies. But as the night wore on and spirits grew merrier, steps and formations were abandoned for the simple pleasure of moving to a melody and the beat of one's own soul.

The Crown Prince of Erebor had been amongst the most energetic of the dancers, he and his brother drawing much admiration for their skill and willingness to attempt the dances of men. But more than that, the vitality and amity exuded by the princes had a way of bolstering hope in all who saw them.

The Lady of Dale had hung back on the periphery of the dancing, endeavouring to draw the somewhat standoffish Woodland Elves into the celebration through conversation. This she conquered with such intelligence and wisdom beyond her years that soon many elves with whom she spoke were as captivated by this daughter of man as she was by them.

Anyone who saw the stolen glances between the Lady of Dale and the Crown Prince of Erebor would not have suspected the affection that had grown between them over the recent years, they hid it well. It was a quiet love; a love felt in the smallest of moments and in the silence between words, but for that it was no less fierce.

The square had begun to empty as all succumbed either to the Dorwinion wine or to the lullaby of the clear night sky above. Bofur's fiddle had long since ceased its melody when its tipsy master tumbled backward off the platform, decided that the ground was as good a place as any to spend the night and promptly fell asleep.

Slowly those who could walk returned to their quarters, singing loudly as they went so that the words echoed through the streets of Dale and carried back towards the lantern lit Square. Fíli assisted those who could not stand to their feet despite certainly having played his part in the draining of the ale. Across the square Sigrid shooed away the kitchen helpers by insisting that the evening ought not to be spoiled by duties, however as soon as they were out of sight she began the task herself so that they would have less to do in the morning.

After one final effort Fíli gave up attempting to haul Bofur to his feet and looked up to see that only himself, Sigrid, and the snoring Bofur remained in the Square.

As she moved along the great carven tables piling dishes so they might be easily transported to the kitchens later, Sigrid felt a curious tingling on the back of her neck. She smiled to herself knowing whose eyes they were but didn't yet turn around.

"You know," Fíli called from across the square. "there are faster ways to do that."

"So I've heard. But frankly I would rather that knifes stayed sharp and that the forks were kept straight." She called over her shoulder, grinning to herself.

"You doubt me, my Lady?" Fíli challenged.

Sigrid turned to face him, hands on hips but a roguish grin in place. "Oh I have every faith in you, Prince. Just not when I would need a third hand to count the number of times you had your tankard refilled."

Fíli crossed his arms acting affronted. "You underestimate my constitution; I'm not drunk, you're just a tad blurry." It was true that the flickering light of the lanterns and the warmth of the ale and wine he'd consumed made Sigrid appear to glow and at the edges. The light catching at a ruby pendant she wore and the way the firelight looked as it danced off of her hair gave him the distinct impression that she wore a crown of golden stars atop her head.

Sigrid strode across the square and Fíli had to blink once or twice to refocus his eyes.

"Prove it." She said when she stood before him, and her breath was a more potent lure than any drink he had ever tasted.

"As you wish." Fíli bent into a sweeping bow, taking Sigrid's hand as he did and pressing it to his lips. "I do believe the Lady of Dale promised me a dance."

Sigrid raised an eyebrow at him. "I may have, but we can't very well dance when there's no music."

"This dance doesn't require a song," Fíli said as he led her by the hand towards the centre of the square. "Only a partner."

"Very well then, but first…" And she kicked off her shoes, shivering at the sensation of the cold stone on her feet. Fíli grinned; they were almost the same height now.

As they reached the middle of the square he released her hand, stepping backwards so that they stood opposite each other, their breath meeting in the space between them.

He remembered the first time he had seen her, not just laid eyes upon her but truly seen her. She had been amongst the first to walk the battlefield in search of survivors, dwarf, elves, and men alike she had tended to them. That was when he first saw her; hands soaked in blood and her face worn from endless cares, but her eyes radiating with spirit and life. Fire might have been the tool of Dale's destruction but it was the fire in the eyes of the survivors that rebuilt it, and she had been their spark. That was when he truly saw her.

Fíli reached out a hand his palm flat at the height of her shoulder, her hand met his halfway and then they were dancing. Slowly they circled each other with their entwined hands linking them at centre.

Looking into his eyes now she could barely remember the first time she had truly seen him as he clutched the hand of his ailing brother. What she did remember was that he had been the first to arrive from Erebor to offer assistance after the battle. That he was the first to stand beside the men of Dale and place rubble on rubble until it again became a wall. That he was the first to tell her that her grief for her people was not a burden to be born alone. And that he was the first person who made her feel weightless when she carried her worries on her shoulders, beautiful when she felt broken inside.

They stepped backwards once more and then closer together, his hand at the small of her back, hers at his shoulder.

"There is something I have to tell you." Fíli murmured as they moved together in small circles.

"Is it something good or something bad?" she enquired curiously.

Fíli considered. "It's- well it's not bad in itself, however the consequences are less than desirable."

"Then maybe you shouldn't tell me." Sigrid said decisively, leaning forward so that her head rested on his shoulder.

Fíli chuckled at her but then sighed. "I wouldn't tell you unless I had to. I would that we never had to move beyond this moment; our hands never parted and time forever frozen still."

Sigrid pulled her head back and met his eyes, reading the truth in them before he spoke it. "You're leaving."

Fíli nodded sadly. "I am to return Ered Luin the day after next...I will be gone for almost a year."

Sigrid was silent as they continued to dance; their feet moving them about the square although their thoughts had carried them further still.

"I would ask you to come with me and I know that you would say yes." Fíli said softly. "But I also know that in your heart you would feel your need here, with your people and with your family."

Sigrid nodded, he did know her and that only made the pain worse. "We always knew we would be parted whether by the will of others or distance, I guess now we have to face it." she sighed.

Fíli stopped dancing. "Sigrid." He placed both hands on her shoulder so that he peered into her face. "You cannot believe that?"

"Fíli," she wrung her hands. "you are a servant to your kingdom as I am to mine, and..."

"I'm a Dwarf?" He suggested.

"Fíli, you know that's never concerned me before. What I'm saying is that you are a prince of Erebor; you have a duty to ensure that your line is never broken or tainted. I cannot be a part of that destiny." And she looked so sad as she said it, so utterly heartbroken that it pained him like a physical wound to see.

He reached out a hand to caress her check and she leant into it, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. "I will not be a servant to a destiny without you, my love." he whispered leaning forward to rest his forehead against hers. "I believe that everything we are dreaming of can soon be ours if we fight for it. All that I ask is that you wait for me; wait for me to come home."

Sigrid nodded earnestly, smiling as hot tears welled up in her eyes. "Always."

Fíli pulled her into his arms, holding her closer at the thought of ever having to let go and felt his own eyes grow warm. "A year is an awfully long time." He murmured.

Sigrid released his hand and reached up to unclip the ruby pendant that hung from her neck. She pressed it into his surprised hand. "Wear it." She insisted.

"Sigrid I can't accept-"

She wrapped her fingers around his, closing them so that they held the pendant tight. "So you can keep me, next to your heartbeat where I should be, and I won't ever let you go."

Fíli smiled and lifted the pendant around his neck. He tucked it beneath his robes, and it rested against his chest, still warm from resting against her skin. He looked up at her, her eyes blazing as they searched his own. "I'm afraid I have nothing for you to remember me by." He said apologetically.

She took his hands in hers and placed them again at her waist, feeling their warmth through the fabric of her dress. "Memories are all I need."

"Something like this?" Fíli twirled her on the spot, mesmerised by the way the fabrics of her skirt swirled about her, although the drinks he had consumed might have contributed to it.

Sigrid laughed as she twirled her, feeling the pins in her hair loosen. "Something like that." She agreed, chuckling.

"Nay," Fíli shook his head. "Such a precious gift warrants something more in return." And he took her by the waist, lifting her easily up into the air as the continued to turn on the spot.

In that moment it was as if time did stand still and Sigrid threw her head back in exultance, feeling her hair tumble free and cascade down her back. Fíli held her as if she were a butterfly between his fingers and she did not doubt for an instant that he might let her fall.

He looked up at the women who kept his heart and knew right then that the first thing he would do upon his return would be to make their love known to all and ask her to be his wife. He knew they would face many obstacles and that many would oppose their love, but here and now nothing felt so right as to be forever by her side.

As Fíli lowered her slowly back down towards the ground Sigrid placed her hands on either side of his face and captured his mouth in hers.

"When you're away." She murmured into his lips. "I will remember how you kissed me under the lanterns in the streets and I won't ever let you go. I'll wait for you to come home."

AN:

Another song that has spawned another Figrid oneshot in my mind. This one by Ed Sheeran: Photograph

I like to put little references to some of my favourite stories and movies in all my writing, which makes it a bit like a scavenger hunt! This one has a bit of The Princess Bride, Pitch Perfect, Thumbelina, Harry Potter, and a tiny bit of Peter Pan.

I hope you liked it!

xxx