2. a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams

0o0o0o0

Fili knew he should wake her.

He hadn't been aware that she was falling asleep; it was only after she was soundly there, his arms around her and her hands still fisted into his tunic the only things keeping her upright, that he realized it.

When forced to tell the tale later he said it was because her breath hitched even in her sleep that he let her rest, but if he was honest with himself (which he wasn't) he would be forced to admit that he never truly considered waking her at all.

And so he carefully lifted her, marveling at her lightness (she was like mithril, he thought, deceptively fragile and ornamental) and carefully settled them on the bench.

The bench was set in a recess of the wall, deep in the shadow of the doorway. He leaned back into the corner and held her, part on his lap and part off so that her head could rest comfortably on his shoulder, his mind a determined blank as his fingers unconsciously destroyed her braids. He fell asleep with his fingers tangled in her hair and his cheek on her head. And even when the screaming woke him he didn't regret having let her sleep.

It wasn't until much later that he would be sorry.

0o0o0o0

The councilman's wife had every reason not to scream when she saw them.

Even had her oft-professed affection for her kingdom's eldest princess not sealed her lips, her assignation on the balcony with a councilman who was most assuredly not her husband should have. One must assume that the sight before her, that of her princess (precious princess, she would insist, most precious princess) slumbering in the arms of a man worth more than a thousand times his weight in gold (and despite their height dwarves were quite heavy, or so she had heard) overcame any hesitation that she may have felt in destroying Sigrid's honor and reputation.

Despite the shushing noises of her lover, the Lady Gudrun opened her mouth and screamed.

0o0o0o0

When King Bard heard the screams his eyes immediately sought out his children. Bain he saw sitting at the large table with Tauriel, Kili, and others, but Sigrid… he made another desperate visual sweep of the room… Sigrid wasn't there.

He set off at a run towards the chilling sound, King Thorin a scant step behind him, and burst onto the balcony with sword in hand. Only to come to an abrupt stop at the scene before him: Crown Prince Fili, cheek slightly reddened, one hand holding Sigrid behind him and the other holding a long dagger threateningly close to Lady Gudrun's belly. And his Sigrid… eyes red, gown rumpled, hair half-undone and in disarray…

His sword was at the prince's throat before he was aware that he'd moved. There was cacophony around them, people screaming and shouting, Thorin bellowing for everyone to shut up and for the balcony to be cleared of the gawkers, but it wasn't so loud that he missed the complete disdain in the prince's voice.

"Oh, now you defend her."

Bard blinked in confusion, and allowed Sigrid to shove his arm down until his sword pointed at the ground.

"Da, how could you?" his daughter hissed.

"What is going on?" Thorin demanded. "Who was screaming?"

"I was, your majesty," Lady Gudrun said in a quivering voice. "I came out here on the balcony for some air, and have never been so shocked…" She put her hand to her dramatically to her eyes. "The prince… and the princess… and then he… he tried to assault me…"

"What?!" Fili snapped.

"He did not!" Sigrid gasped. "How dare you?"

"Oh, your highness," the lady replied mournfully. "My poor girl. Have no fear, we shall make him marry you!"

Sigrid and Fili gaped, apparently beyond words, and Thorin glared, affronted. "Have you anything useful to say? I fear I still do not understand what it was that made you scream, or what led my nephew to 'assault' you." Disbelief was thick in his voice.

The crown prince regained the power of speech, saying hotly, "Make no mistake, madam, had I wanted to assault you—"

"Fili!" the dwarf king and human princess snapped in unison.

Dwalin snorted from his position guarding the doorway, and Thorin eyed her with some surprise. "Princess Sigrid. Perhaps you can explain what happened here?"

"Of course, your majesty. Prince Fili and I were…" her voice faltered as she realized how bad it sounded, "…were talking, and I fell asleep. I woke to Lady Gudrun screaming."

"Talking," Bard repeated flatly, a thread of menace in his voice.

Fili took a protective half-step in front of Sigrid. "Arguing, actually," he interjected belligerently. "I was being—"

"We had a misunderstanding," Sigrid interrupted. "That's all. We argued, and then I… when we stopped arguing, I fell asleep."

"As did I. And then this one," he gestured with a wide swing of his arm, "started screaming and startled us awake, and I instinctively drew a dagger to protect us."

Bard's eyes flicked between his councilman and Lady Gudrun. "Do either of you have anything to add?"

The lord maintained his silence, contenting himself with a mere shake of his head, but the lady gasped emotionally, and far too loudly, "He was holding her in his arms, your majesty, and his hand was in her hair!"

He shot Fili a hard look. "Yes, so I've gathered."

"Her reputation is destroyed! You must make them marry!"

Bard lost his hold on his temper. "Her reputation is destroyed because you could not control yourself! Had you not screamed this could have been handled discreetly, but no, you chose to make a spectacle of both yourself and my daughter!" The lady tried to interrupt, but he cut her off viciously. "I do not want to hear another word from you. Neither of you will speak on this matter to anyone, for any reason. If I find out that you have said a single word, you and your families will be banished until a year and a day from the date of your deaths." He glowered at them both. "Is that understood?"

The councilman bowed, the picture of calm. "Certainly, your majesty. You may depend upon my secrecy."

"But… may I not even tell my husband? He's on the council!"

Everyone stared at her incredulously.

Bard ironed his forehead with his fingertips. "No. You may not say anything. To anyone."

"But—"

"No!" he roared, sounding more like Thorin than himself. "If you suddenly feel a pressing need to be honest with your husband, I suggest you explain to him precisely why you were out here on the balcony at all!" He took a deep breath and finished icily, "Go inside. Unless you wish to tell your husband of your family's need to move, you will not speak of this to anyone." He transferred his gaze to the councilman. "Both of you go inside."

The councilman bowed calmly and the lady flounced angrily, and for a moment there was a blessed silence. Then Bard sighed, steeling himself for what he must do next. He met the eyes of the King Under the Mountain. "The wretched woman is right about one thing: these two must marry. There is no hope now of keeping this quiet."

Thorin was silent and the two kings stared implacably at each other, ignoring Sigrid's whispered protest. Finally, the dwarf king nodded. "Yes. There seems to be no other option. If it is acceptable to you, I suggest that my councilors and I will meet with you and yours tomorrow morning to discuss the contract, immediately following breakfast."

Bard inclined his head. "Perfectly acceptable." He sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Is there a way off this balcony that doesn't lead through the hall?"

Thorin chuckled humorlessly. "Yes, let us show you. I have as little desire to walk through the hall as you." He threw some rapid hand signals at Dwalin, telling him to find his brother and meet them in his office, and clamped an unnecessarily heavy hand on Fili's shoulder as he showed the humans the hidden way inside.

0o0o0o0

Fili gritted his teeth. Sigrid had completely withdrawn behind her perfect princess shield and had refused to meet his eyes when the two groups parted ways near the stairs. Bard had glared at him, clearly blaming him for the entire fiasco when they had done nothing wrong and it was not one of Erebor who had screamed and drawn attention to them. And now his uncle was openly ignoring him, letting him stand before his desk like a naughty dwarfling.

After what seemed to Fili to be an unnecessarily long period of time, Dwalin and Balin arrived and though he was ignored as they discussed where Kili and Dis were and the rumors swirling around the mountain, he was at least permitted to sit with them.

Those topics exhausted, Thorin met Fili's eyes and finally deigned to speak to him. "How soon do we need to have the wedding?"

"What?" Fili asked, completely bewildered.

"Ah, I think your uncle is asking if there is a reason for haste?" Balin elaborated.

He stared at them, still uncomprehending.

Dwalin sighed irritably and demanded with his typical bluntness, "Is the lass pregnant?"

"What? No!" Fili cried. "Tonight's the first time I've seen her in almost two years!"

"So there's no chance at all she's pregnant then?" Dwalin pressed.

He leapt to his feet. "What, you think we… on the balcony? With all of you just inside? Are you mad?!"

"Sit down," his uncle ordered gruffly. He no longer looked so furious. "What were you thinking, picking a fight with the princess?"

"I didn't… well, I did, but I wasn't intending to." He rubbed the back of his neck and concluded uncomfortably, "I was just angry."

The other three dwarves gazed at him for a long moment before Balin, sounding confused, asked why.

Fili opened and closed his mouth several times without speaking, and Thorin snapped, "Everything. From the beginning."

So he told them everything, staring at his hands so he wouldn't have to look at them, feeling more like an imbecile with every word that left his mouth. When he was finished there was a heavy silence.

He squared his shoulders and lifted his chin. He was a Son of Durin, not a coward, and by Mahal he would act like it.

Thorin and Dwalin looked unhappily bewildered and Balin… Balin was smiling?

"Ah, laddie. It's good to know you feel some affection for her. Makes me feel better about this whole forced marriage arrangement."

Fili gaped at him, wondering what he'd said to lead Balin to such a faulty conclusion. Not that he disliked Sigrid. He'd always liked her, but he didn't feel anything… special. Did he?

Thorin shook his head impatiently. "Affection for a human- this is the kind of stunt I'd expect from your brother, not you. Not that there's any avoiding the marriage, when I've no doubt refusal would destroy our trade with Dale, if not our entire alliance. We may not need them as greatly as they need us, but I'd not like to risk enmity with our closest neighbor."

"Not to mention they help keep that pompous Mirkwood clotheshorse in check," Dwalin muttered balefully.

"Aye, and he'd be glad to take advantage of any discord between us. So, as I said, there's no avoiding it." Thorin's tone, while slightly regretful, was businesslike. "Balin, that list we spoke of last month. Is there anyone on it who would do for Kili?"

Balin nodded reluctantly. "I'm sure there are at least two possibilities."

It was the sorrow in Balin's voice more than their words that clued Fili in. "Wait, do for Kili for what? For marriage?"

"You needn't sound so surprised," his uncle replied dispassionately. "If you're to marry the human princess then your brother will have to father full-blooded heirs."

"Sigrid—her name is Sigrid—and no, he won't! You know he loves Tauriel!"

Thorin scoffed. "I know he spends time with her when she is here, but you can't seriously expect me to believe that he loves her. He hasn't even mentioned her in years."

"Maybe not to you! And why would that be? Oh, perhaps because the last time he did you threatened him with exile if he spoke her name to you again!"

The king's face was red and growing redder, but everyone saw the tiny flash of doubt cross it. "Be that as it may, no one of mixed blood may sit on the throne of Erebor."

"According to whom?" Fili demanded irately. "According to you? You're disinheriting my children before I've even fathered them?"

"According to the dwarrow who must agree to follow them." Red-faced he may be, but Thorin sounded more weary than angry. "The sooner you accept it, the better. It's just the way it is."

Fili clenched his jaw until it hurt, the pain grounding him and helping suspend him above the rage he wanted to fall into.

"No," he replied in a steely voice. "I will not accept it. There are few dwarrow today who will yet be alive when my son will take the throne; there is almost two centuries for opinion to change. We have strong alliances with other races now, alliances in which we are on an equal footing. And you know as well as I that mine will not be the first mixed marriage among our people."

"None of those marriages were well-received, or made by those of high birth," the king pointed out dampeningly.

"I realize that. But as I said, there is plenty of time for opinion to change. Dwarrow who grow up knowing my children and knowing that one of them will sit on the throne will be far more accepting than those to whom such a notion is foreign."

Balin looked hopeful, Dwalin looked skeptical, and Thorin shook his head. "It's not a risk we should take. Erebor's throne must stay with the direct line of Durin. And none of this has any bearing on your brother's marriage, for do you really think Durin will be reborn into a child of mixed blood? Even if your son is able to rule, there still must be full-blooded descendants in the line. And what does it matter? It's not as though he's able to marry the elf!" His uncle actually chuckled, as if Kili's love for Tauriel was a joke. As if Kili was a joke.

Balin flinched and even Dwalin tensed, waiting for the prince to explode, but Fili just stared, unable to believe the callous way his brother's happiness had been disregarded, as though it was nothing. As though none of their feelings mattered if they were inconvenient for the king. Thorin could be hard-headed and stubborn, a demanding teacher and a harsh taskmaster, but (except for the brief time he'd struggled with the gold sickness) Fili had never before doubted that he wanted what was best for them.

Mahal, what a debacle. In all his discussions with Kili about his impossible situation, it had never occurred to them that things could actually get so much worse. The worst they could imagine was that seeing Tauriel might become more difficult for one reason or another—never that Kili would be forced to marry someone else! Guilt fought for prominence in his brain as one thing became perfectly clear:

He should never have begged Kili to stay. If Kili had left last year as he wanted to and was already married, this insane discussion wouldn't be happening.

When he finally spoke it was with a quiet, icy civility that only served to increase Balin's and Dwalin's tension. "Forgive me, sire, I was unaware that our primary purpose was to be breeding stock for the line."

Thorin actually looked surprised. "Not your primary purpose, no, but surely you knew you'd need to produce heirs?"

Fili smiled widely, but it was little more than a baring of teeth. "Should I have? You never did."

Balin tried to intercede but the prince ignored him, ignored the shocked anger on the king's face, ignored everything but the bone-deep rage and hurt. "We've followed you, uncle, and gladly. You are our king. But you have always led us. Never before have you demanded that we make sacrifices that you are unwilling to make. If Kili is to be commanded to marry some poor female he does not love for the sole purpose of creating full-blooded heirs, I have only one thing to say: You. First."

He didn't wait for Thorin's reaction but stalked from the room, slamming the door behind him.

He somehow managed to avoid all the people still milling about—or perhaps it was more accurate to say that the milling throng took a look at his face and wisely chose to give him a wide berth. He was almost to the royal wing before he was intercepted.

"Prince Fili, a word?" For all that it was phrased as a question it was actually a demand, and they both knew it.

With great effort, he kept his tone civil. "I beg your pardon, but now is not a good time."

"I'll be brief, but this is important."

Fili met the gaze of Sigrid's father for a long, tense moment before inclining his head in reluctant acquiescence.

0o0o0o0

King Bard's eyes moved with ill-concealed curiosity around the outer chamber of Fili's private quarters. He'd encountered the prince several times a year since the death of the dragon. His personal experience with him and all he'd ever heard of him were to the good, but now that he was to be entrusted with Sigrid… He looked around, taking in the well-ordered room, the only sign of disarray the jumble of books and whetstones on the table close to the fire, searching for clues that Fili was a lesser man than he appeared to be.

Not that he was a man, precisely. A male, then. Bard resisted the renewed urge to punch something. Valar, what a debacle.

"Ale? Or something to eat?"

The prince's voice was polite enough, though the lines of his body made it plain he was still laboring under high emotion.

"Neither, thank you."

With an air almost of defiance, Fili poured himself a goblet of ale, then gestured to the chairs set before the hearth. "Shall we sit? Of what do you wish to speak?"

Bard took the indicated seat and stared into the fire, watching as a log cracked and a rush of sparks flew upwards. "Sigrid told me what happened this evening. I had not realized… Clearly, I've allowed her to bear burdens that she should not have had to bear, and I regret it more than I can say." He turned to Fili and said levelly, "I want your word that she will be protected if she marries you. Protected better than I have done over the past five years."

"You have some nerve," Fili retorted incredulously. "Do as I say, not as I do, is it?"

"I would change things if I could, but have little time left with her now," Bard said stiffly. "You may rest assured that I won't allow Tilda to be treated the same way, and I'll be keeping a sharper eye on the people who interact with Bain as well."

"Well, good, because that's what's important to her. She would sacrifice everything for them—was going to sacrifice everything!" Bard looked slightly confused, but said nothing as Fili continued hotly, "You don't need me to give my word. Sigrid will always be well-treated here, and will have all the honor and respect due her as my wife. There are vipers in any kingdom, but I know well who they are and she will not be abandoned to them."

The human king hid a wince at the accusation in the prince's words and nodded in satisfaction. "Thank you for your assurances. I know you will stand by them." He rose to take his leave, then paused by the door. "I also know neither of you want this marriage. Sigrid has assured me that she will put effort into making it successful, and I trust that you will do the same."

Fili nodded curtly, then sank numbly back into his seat, Bard's final words repeating over and over in his head.

…neither of you want this marriage.

…neither of you

Sigrid didn't want to marry him. The realization was a burning hot pike in his gut, which was ridiculous, because of course she didn't want to. Nor did he, why would they?

But… how badly did she not want to? Was marriage to him as unwanted and horrible in her mind as the arranged possibilities she'd cried about on the balcony?

And then there was Kili, also threatened with a marriage he didn't want (because Fili didn't want this marriage either, of course he didn't) but in Kili's case it was worse.

Kili, who already loved so deeply and desperately, forced to marry someone else.

Kili, the royal stallion, put out to stud.

Kili, the little brother he'd vowed always to protect, betrayed into this mess by his own inaction.

It was now that he finally was sorry for letting Sigrid sleep.

He sat straighter and set his jaw. He would fix this. His own marriage may be unavoidable, but Kili's wasn't. There were no contracts, verbal or otherwise, yet made on his brother's behalf. There was still time. And he didn't want Sigrid to be miserable any more than he wanted Kili to be. His stomach lurched as he remembered her sobbing in his arms, the sacrifices she was willing to make for her sister. He didn't want her ever to cry like that over marrying him. He could make their marriage more acceptable to her.

He stayed in the chair, his untouched ale growing warm beside him as he plotted, and waited for morning to come.

0o0o0o0

A/N: Only one part left. Chapter titles (I added one to the first chapter too) are adapted from the poem Caged Bird by Maya Angelou.

My Bard/Sigrid headcanon, if you're interested- While Bard was intelligent and a natural leader he was not at all a political creature, and I think becoming first the Lord of Dale and then king would have been a difficult transition for him- all the more so because not only was he essentially having to rebuild his society from the ground up, but the decisions he made could literally mean the difference between life and death for his people and that was something he would take very, very seriously. He rose above all his challenges and succeeded because that's the kind of man he is, but I think he floundered a little at first. His council was stocked with some people who didn't see eye to eye with him, people who he didn't necessarily like or want on there, but who knew more about how to run a government than he did. He's found his feet now though, and his council will soon be getting some new members. As far as this chapter, he only knows that Sigrid was more upset about the prospect of an arranged marriage than he realized and has been unhappy about some other unexplained things in her life- he does not know that the council badgered Sigrid into acquiescing to the marriage or the ways in which she was pressured to act or not act in certain ways (the perfect princess pretense that Fili hates so much)- he thinks that she's just grown up and that it's natural for her to like beautiful gowns, etc, and he's so pleased to be able to provide them for her. Which leads to Sigrid- she is not completely blameless in what's been done to her. If she'd told her father about how uncomfortable she was with certain people or with the pressure being brought to bear on her she knew he would have put a stop to it. But ever since her mother died, Sigrid has seen herself as her father's helper. She helped raise her siblings, she took care of the house, she helped make ends meet- she never complained or caused problems or added to his burdens, and even after their situation changed so dramatically and he didn't need her to clean the house or cook the dinner she still tried to help him in the only way she could. She protected Tilda, acted as her father's hostess, resisted on her own the most egregious of the changes people wanted to make to her, and she didn't ever add to her father's stress by complaining to him. He, naturally, is not going to be too happy about that, though he will place most of the blame on himself (as, I think, he should.) Oh, and I'm not sure how old Sigrid was supposed to be in the movies but for the purposes of this story she was 14/15 when her father killed Smaug and is 19/20 now. Tilda was 8 and is now 13, and Bain was 11 and is now 16. Except for a few hours a day with his tutors, he's spent most of the past five years at his father's side- in some ways they've been learning together how to rule a kingdom- and due to that has been largely protected from the crap Sigrid's had to put up with. That's why she doesn't worry about him- he's rarely had to deal with any of the bad apples on his own the way she has.