AN:
This can be read either as a sequel to "Wait for me to come home" or as a stand-alone fic.
It had been Balin's idea for them to take a day away from Dale and the Mountain before the announcement of their betrothal. Such advisement could not have been more welcome after spending the past several days cloistered in the halls of Erebor with Bard, Thorin, and the powerful lords of both kingdoms negotiating the terms of their union.
At first Fíli and Sigrid had revelled in the preparations, eagerly contributing to the negotiations and offering their opinions on all matters concerning their future. But as the discussions had dragged on, covering everything from the terms of the marriage treaty to the design of the beads they were to weave into each other's hair; Balin had watched the young couple lose interest in the proceedings.
The quest to reclaim Erebor and the subsequent battle to defend it had cost the all involved dearly, but perhaps the most sombre of losses had been that of the light in the eyes of the young. Balin supposed it had been unavoidable; he supposed they should be thankful to have survived. However, despite all that they had accomplished and all that they had rebuilt there were moments when he might have traded it all to erase the knowledge of suffering from such young eyes. It wasn't until Sigrid that Balin learnt that the purest comfort one can offer is to share the weight put upon another's soul as if it were your own.
They bore their new burdens with selfless grace, these heirs of kingdoms rebuilt, but such bravery is paid in muzzled sufferings and moments of true solace become scarce. However each had found in the other a comfort and calm to sooth their spirit and their love had grown fierce and resilient from these roots.
Balin smiled as he watched Fíli silently mouth something to Sigrid from across the table who grinned before mouthing something in return that made Fíli duck his head to stifle an outright snort of mirth. Their pain was by no means vanquished; scars did not heal so quickly, but for now they were happy and that was all that mattered.
When at long last the decisions had been made and the contract finalized Balin had motioned for the young heirs to join him away from where their Kings now shook hands. They did so with curious trepidation, almost expecting to be admonished for their dwindling interest in the proceedings. When the wise councillor had conspiratorially muttered his suggestion they had initially been too shocked to respond. Fíli shuffled his feet as he questioned if it was entirely proper for them to be alone before their wedding. To that the old dwarf had laughed and assured them that he believed they were wise enough not to risk a joys lifetime for the pleasure of one day. They had both turned a deep shade of scarlet but nodded earnestly.
Sigrid had then taken his wizened hand in hers and pressed a sweet kiss to it, thanking him for his kindness and acceptance.
"Love is a treasure, lass, as are the quiet moments with the one you love. Consider this a betrothal gift."
Fíli had clasped his shoulder and pressed his forehead against his in earnest gratitude. Then Balin watched them return to their Kings and assume their roles as heirs, neither relinquishing the other's hand, and in that moment he had to believe that the universe had fought for these two souls to find one another.
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Fíli and Sigrid met by the gates of Dale the next morning when the sun was just peaking over the hills and the city seemed to slumber along with its inhabitants.
Sigrid slipped her hand into his as they set off, a basket swinging from her elbow and an extra set of throwing axes at his.
You could never be too careful he had explained when Sigrid inquired. She had rolled her eyes and pointed out that she was more likely to injure herself by standing near him than they were to encounter any danger, especially now that Tauriel and Dwalin captained the patrols.
But Fíli grimly told her that he wasn't going to take any chances and Sigrid had nodded solemnly, producing a bow and quiver of arrows from the depths of the basket in her arms.
When Fíli raised his eyebrows she shrugged, responding that she too had something she wasn't prepared to risk.
They drew their cloaks tight about them and walked for some way over rolling hills and rocky terrain until they came to eastern shore of the Lake. Here the fertile soil had yielded a grotto of weeping willow whose branches trailed across the lake water like many delicate fingers and sent the light filtering through its canopies in thousands of luminous rays.
Fíli all but flung himself down upon the nearest patch of soft ground but Sigrid laughingly made him wait until she had at least laid down a rug. The clearing was carpeted with lush grass and scattered with buttercups and dandelions that smelt like the promise of rain. It was a corner of the earth yet unspoiled; the perfect place to spend a day.
"Well, this is it;" said Fíli, leaning back against a wide trunk, his hands folded behind his head. "The last moment of peace we will have until after the wedding."
His eyes on the clouds above he waited for her to respond; to sigh in frustration or resignation, but no such noise came. Concerned, he turned his head towards her and for a moment he quite forgot why. Sigrid held a dandelion between her fingers as she absently plucked at its thin petals, her head bowed so that tendrils of hair framed her face. She never ceased to take his breath away, even with her eyebrows knitted together and her mouth pulled down with the weight of troublesome thoughts.
Fíli's hands dropped from behind his head. "Sigrid?" he said softly. "You can still say no; you don't have to go through with the wedding. Nobody will resent you."
Sigrid was brought back to herself and let the shredded flower fall from her fingers as she turned to face him, feeling her mouth soften. "My love," she said, tracing a finger across his check. "Please do not doubt that to be your wife is something I desire with all of my heart."
"And yet?" Fíli asked, sensing the words unspoken.
Sigrid sighed and let her fingers fall from his face. "And yet I can't help but feel that something is wrong; as if our wedding has become less about us and more about political contracts, trades, and bargaining. And I know that that is how it has to be, but at the same time… I can't help but wish things were different."
Fíli nodded slowly. "How would you have it be?" Sigrid tilted her head. "If it was just you and I, how would our wedding happen?" he elaborated.
Sigrid considered for a moment, leaning so that her own back rested alongside his against the thick trunk as she was watched the wisps of cloud chase each other across the sky. "It would be next to the Lake where we met." She smiled softly as the memory. "But there wouldn't be any mention of toilets."
Fíli chuckled. "I should think not." He said, also leaning back to gaze through the canopies above.
"It would be in the glades on the eastern shore, where the willow trees reach down and dip the tips of their branches into the lake, and the sun sparkles off the water as if it were a sea of jewels; that is where we would wed. I wouldn't care too much about my dress; it wouldn't need it to be too fine, only that I would wear jasmine in my hair just as my mother did when she wed my Da."
"And when I saw you come towards me I would need to be reminded how to breathe." Fíli smiled.
Sigrid chuckled. "And when I saw you I would need to be reminded how to walk, but eventually I would reach you, one way or another."
"What would we say to each other; what words would we use to speak the truth of our hearts?"
Sigrid turned again so that she was looking at his profile; a mane of golden hair crowning a head that glinted in the light streaming through the trees. "I would take your hand in mine and pledge my heart to yours. I would tell you that I'd choose you; in every lifetime, in every world, and in every version of forever, I'd find you and I'd choose you. Then I would pledge to face the world with you each and every day, to be beside you through its sorrow and its joy."
Fíli turned his head to look at her, falling ever in love with the way the light in her eyes danced when they looked into his. "Then, I would take your hand in mine and pledge my heart to yours. I would tell you that I stand here not as a Prince but as a mere being in love, but that I would feel like a King if you Sigrid would be my wife."
Sigrid lend forwards to rest her head against his. "And just like that I would be yours and you would be mine."
"Just like that." Fíli agreed.
She sighed wistfully. "It is a beautiful dream, and now waking from it seems all the more difficult."
Fíli jerked upright, an idea had come to him, a reckless idea that filled him with excitement. After all, he thought, why couldn't they… He jumped to his feet.
Sigrid also jumped up, looked around in alarm for the source of what had startled him as she reached for her hidden bow. But Fíli reached out a hand to stay hers, a wild look in his eyes.
"Sigrid, we could do it. We don't have to go back; we could leave it all behind; just you and me." He began searching around him, franticly throwing their belongings into the basket.
"Fíli you're not making any sense. Fíli!" she had to shout to get his attention as he began hurriedly shoving the blanket back into the basket. "What do you mean we don't have to go back?"
Fíli stepped towards her, taking her hand in his and pressing it to his lips. "I'm asking if you want to run away with me."
Sigrid blinked, too stunned to speak.
"We could have the wedding we want, have the life that we want, somewhere away from the politics and obligations; just you and me." He said it with such eagerness and with such excitement that Sigrid could see that future before her; could see the humble cottage they would call home and the nearby village where they would work; she as a healer and he as a blacksmith. She could picture their life together; coming home at the end of each day to sit beside their hearth, exhausted but utterly content with their life, they would have children; two boys and a girl. They would have everything they were dreaming of, and yet…
"Fíli," Sigrid said softly, reaching out to place and hand on his cheek. "We can't, no matter how much we both might want to. You belong with your family as I do mine; we could not leave them even if we had each other." Sigrid watched the excitement drain from his eyes and it pained her to have to douse such a beautiful dream. "I love you;" she told him fervently. "We don't need a contract to tell us any better. And maybe we don't get the glade or the jasmine but we get each other, and here today I am more your wife than I will ever be. So for now let's stay and let the dream go on for just a little bit longer."
Fíli slumped back down to the ground, resigned to the inescapable reality. Deep down he knew he could never leave his family behind, but for a moment he had imagined that he could live in a world composed entirely of his own choice.
Sigrid sat down beside him again and rested her head against his shoulder. Fíli turned to whisper into her ear. "Just promise me that we don't give up on our dream, my love."
"Never." She assured him.
Then he kissed her. Without warning, without permission, and without even deciding to do it, simply because she was the dream he craved most of all.
They spent the rest of the day lost somewhere between a dream and reality, watching the clouds dance across the sky as the sun moved ever towards the horizon and the distant silhouette of the mountain.
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When their wedding did come around neither regretted their decision to not run away, there was too much to celebrate and too many with whom to shared their joy.
As Sigrid was laced into a gown of deepest red and brightest gold, finer than she had ever seen let alone worn in her life, Fíli's mother stepped forwards.
"My son wanted you to have these to wear today." She held out her hand and Sigrid saw that in her palm rested several buds of pale jasmine.
Sigrid smiled and caressed the delicate flowers, closing her eyes as their heavenly fragrance found her and a thousand memories of her mother washed over her like the warmth of a summer sun.
"May I?" Dis asked, gesturing towards the braided tendrils of her hair. Sigrid nodded and knelt for Dis to weave the flowers into place. "They are not customary, my dear, but Fíli insisted that you should have them and," her deft fingers paused for a moment. "I know that should I have been blessed with a daughter I would have wished for her to have something of mine to keep with her on such a day."
Dis stepped backwards but Sigrid turned gently and caught her hand.
"I would like to think that as of today you do have a daughter, if that's alright with you?"
Dis looked at her for a moment before pulling the girl down into a crushing embrace. "That is more than alright, my dear." She said, her voice thick. "But come now," she said, releasing Sigrid and brushing down the heavy red and gold skirts. "It's almost time."
Sigrid nodded, nervous but eager for what was to come.
When Fíli first saw her he did indeed forget how to breathe and only a nudge from Kíli reminded him.
When she first saw him, resplendent in robes of matching crimson and gold, Sigrid did indeed feel her knees go week and it was only her father's arm that kept her moving.
And when she did reach him they joined hands, and before the sights of all they each pledged their hearts to each other forevermore, both in love and in service to their people. And in truth, the beauty of it was that when it all came down to it, their dream did come true after all.
AN:
So what did you think? Did you have a favourite moment or a favourite line?
Do you want more one-shots or something longer with a bit of a plot?
As always I take little bits and pieces from the things that inspired me. This one was inspired by the movie Ever After, Emery Allen, The Chaos of Stars by Kiersten White, a tiny bit of Game of Thrones, and One Dance with a Duke by Tessa Dare.
Please let me know what you thought and thank you so very much for reading!
xxx
Mont Girl of Lumatere