Sigrid gaped at Kili. "You... what?"
The dwarf continued to twinkle, like an effervescent sunbeam. "Your hand in marriage, milady."
"But you're gonna marry Tauriel!" Tilda protested from Bard's other side.
Kili's eyes crinkled with delight as he pulled from under his cloak a roll of parchment. "Ah, you have me there, milady Tilda. You have put your thumb square upon it. I thought I'd give it a try anyway, yes? Just to test the waters, you understand. But it appears I'll have to read this dratted thing after all."
Sigrid watched in confusion as Kili unrolled the parchment. It was written in a hard, blocky calligraphy that filled the paper from edge to edge.
"Balin wrote this out, so you'll have to pardon me if it sounds a bit stodgy," he said with a little bow. After clearing his throat noisily he began to read.
"On behalf of Thorin Oakenshield,
King Under the Mountain,
I, Kili, Prince of Erebor,
do humbly request the hand in marriage
Of the Lady Sigrid of Dale,
Daughter of Bard the Bowman, Dragonslayer,
Hero of Esgaroth and Lord of Dale,
To be pledged to my brother,
Fili, Crown Prince of Erebor,
Heir of the King Under the Mountain-"
Sigrid's heart stuttered in her chest as Kili continued to read.
"-The marriage to take place in two month's time
At the Festival of Midsummer.
The dowry we offer is as follows:
The Lady Sigrid's weight in
Gold, silver, gems, and ornaments,
To be paid upon confirmation that
The marriage has been consummated.
"I humbly submit this petition
In the spirit of friendship between our peoples,
And in the hope that the line of Girion
Will unite with the line of Durin
In the blessed halls of our fathers."
Kili rolled up the parchment as a stunned silence fell over the room. "Here, do you think I could get a cup of water?" he asked, tucking away the scroll again. "Balin writes like a diplomat – dry as a bone."
"Is Fili really going to marry our Sigrid?" Tilda asked, wide-eyed with wonder.
"If she says yes," Kili answered with a smile.
"Say yes, Sig! Then you can go live in Erebor and I can come see you and we can go swimming through seas of gold!"
"Hush, Tilda," Bard said softly, squeezing his younger daughter's hand. He turned his attention back to Kili, who was waiting patiently for an answer. "Prince Kili-"
"Just Kili, please."
"Very well. Kili, I... am certainly humbled that the King Under the Mountain should seek my daughter to wed the Crown Prince. Nevertheless, I hope you'll not think me rude when I say I'm also surprised and, frankly, suspicious."
"Da," Sigrid protested, finding her voice at last. Her father waved her off.
"Thorin Oakenshield has proven to be a good monarch," Bard continued, watching Kili with firm eyes, "and a valued ally. He has earned the respect that is due to the King Under the Mountain. But I don't think you would argue, Kili, that he is xenophobic, and distrustful of the motives of those outside his realm. Why should he suddenly show such interest in my daughter? What are his reasons for seeking to unite our houses through this marriage? My Sigrid is not a pawn, master dwarf, and I'll not see her used as one. She has already shouldered enough responsibility on my behalf in her young life. I'll not allow her happiness to be threatened by any who would use her as a bargaining chip, be they Man, Dwarf, Elf or otherwise."
Sigrid quickly turned her gaze back to Kili, expecting to see him glaring at her father. Instead, to her surprise, his smile seemed even wider than before.
"My Lord Bard, I understand completely," he said. "I, perhaps more than anyone, am aware of my uncle's views of the other races of Middle-Earth, and I want to assure you that he has nothing but respect for you and your children. You aided us when our company first arrived in Lake-town on our way to the Lonely Mountain. You took me in when I was brought low by the orc arrow, despite your differences with my uncle. You slew the dragon that slaughtered our people and stole our home away from us. We owe you a great debt, and the line of Durin does not take debts lightly.
"Further, I vow that the Lady Sigrid is not and will never be used as a bargaining chip. Neither I nor my brother would allow it." He gave her a friendly nod. "Nor do I think the Lady herself would stand for it."
Sigrid blushed.
"So far as motives go," Kili continued, turning his attention back to Bard, "they are as I said. My uncle seeks only to unite our houses in the spirit of friendship, so that we may move forward as more than simply allies, and face the future as family."
Bard nodded slowly. "You speak pretty words, master Kili. I am almost inclined to agree to your request. But I find myself still suspicious."
Kili bowed. "How may I allay your suspicions, milord?"
"Why me?" Sigrid blurted before her father could speak. "I'm sure that Fi- that the Crown Prince could have his pick of any dwarf lady in Erebor, or just about anywhere, really. Why choose me?" Her pulse raced in her ears.
Kili's smile softened. "Milady, you are kind, and you are good," he explained. "I myself have seen you offer small children tenderness and hunched greybeards respect.
"You are sharp as a tack and stubborn as a mule. I have seen you stand up to men twice your size who left your presence seeming smaller than a hobbit.
"I have seen you put yourself between your sister and a pack of ravening orcs, and as someone who has some experience with the creatures, that is no small feat of bravery.
"You are a lady of quality who has lived her life in poor circumstances, exiled from your rightful home by a greedy, gluttonous fire drake. But even now, restored to your rightful nobility, you are neither averse nor ashamed to roll up your sleeves and pin back your hair and get your hands dirty in service of your people. In fact, milady Sigrid, if I did not have the proof of my eyes that you are a daughter of Men I would be certain that you were a daughter of Durin, since your story is little different from mine and my brother's."
His eyes sparkled as he added, "And though you regrettably have no beard, milady, you are nonetheless beautiful. A jewel in the crown of the race of Men."
Sigrid's face felt hot and her mouth was dry. She was painfully aware of her clothes, made of fine fabric but sturdy and practical instead of the delicate silks of a true noblewoman. She felt shabby standing so close to the glittering prince. "And does your brother share your opinions, Prince Kili?" she managed to murmur.
"Milady, as in almost all things, in regards to you we agree." His voice lost the lilting, grandiose tone he'd been using, and once again he was just her friend Kili. "He's very fond of you, Sigrid."
She closed her eyes and nodded, her throat too tight for words. Oh, Fili...
Through the sound of blood roaring in her ears she heard Kili once again address her father. "Your daughter's happiness is of the utmost importance to my uncle, my brother and myself, Lord Bard. I know, however, that you are still uneasy about my uncle's petition for her hand. So allow me to propose a test."
"A test?" Bard frowned. "What sort of test?"
"Allow my brother to court your daughter for one month," Kili said, that familiar cheeky smile on his face. "If at the end of that time neither you nor Lady Sigrid feel convinced of his sincerity we will withdraw our request for the Lady's hand, but will still pay you a dowry equal to Sigrid's weight in gold as a show of gratitude for permitting the courtship."
"That's very generous, master Kili. Does your uncle know you're offering this test?"
"I may have suggested it to him at one point or another, yes."
"That doesn't give me great confidence, Kili."
"You leave my uncle to me, milord Bard. You just focus on how well my brother treats your daughter. I assure you that, in a month's time, you'll have no qualms about agreeing to the marriage."
Bard nodded slowly. "You have given my daughter and I a great deal to consider, Prince. Please relay to the King Under the Mountain that I shall have a response for him within a day's time."
"It would be my pleasure, sir." Kili bowed again, then turned his attention to Tilda, who was still clutching her father's hand and watching the scene with wide-eyes. "Milady Tilda, would you be so kind as to see me back to my horse?" Without another word he turned around and crouched down so the young girl could scramble onto his back.
Tilda's face melted into a smile and she let go of Bard's hand to run to her friend. "I told Sig I never have to ask with you," she laughed as Kili hoisted her up, piggyback style. "If you don't marry Lady Tauriel, will you marry me?"
"Lass, I could never keep up with you. You'd wear me to the bone."
Sigrid watched as her sister and the dwarf meandered back out of the audience chamber, chattering amiably. When they were gone her father turned to her, his face serious. "Sigrid-"
"Say yes, Da." She looked at him, unashamed to realize she was pleading. "Say yes."
"Sigrid, I know that you are good friends with Kili, and so with his brother, too, but they are still princes of Erebor. Their lives are heavily regimented." He took her hands in his and squeezed. "I trust that they care about you, but I don't know that I trust Thorin to honor those cares in your regard. If he can use you as a way to gain something for his people he will do it, and his nephews' opinions be damned. Will they speak out against their uncle in that case?"
"But Da-"
"Shhh, Sigrid. I'm not saying no. I think perhaps Kili's idea of a courtship is the right course of action."
Sigrid's heart swelled in her chest. "Really, Da?"
He smiled, the usually hard lines of his face softening as they always did around his children. "If master Fili can prove to me that he loves you as dearly as I do, Sigrid, then I can trust that he will protect you from any and all harm, even if it means defying the King Under the Mountain. In that event I would have no reason not to agree to the match. Provided, of course, that you felt the same."
Sigrid threw her arms around her father and hugged him with all she was worth. "Thank you, Da!" she choked, clinging to him.
Bard rubbed her back. "I hope that the Crown Prince proves you right and me wrong, my girl," he sighed. "I truly do. Otherwise I might have to marry you off to that fat old fart who reeked of pipe weed."
She laughed and punched him lightly in the shoulder before hugging him again. "Over my orc-eaten body, Da."
