Title: Love Me (Like I'm Not Made Of Stone)

Genre: Movies

Series: The Hobbit

Characters: Fili, Sigrid, Thorin, Dis

Spoilers: N/a

Rating: PG-13 to Mature

Summary: Events didn't turn out as expected, and the ripple effect cascades over all things.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Miraculous Grace

It was the first time they would ever be separated for longer than a few hours. He had never gone to sleep without knowing exactly where his baby brother was and how quickly it would take for him to get to him. He was the one who comforted his nightmares, who heard his secrets, who sparred with him until he knew that he'd be able to defend himself from bullies and later wrapped his knuckles from the scuffles that inevitably came.

He felt the loss of his brother like an amputation, like a piece of him was walking away and there was nothing he could do about it. It felt like physical pain to see him go, and to know that when he returned he would be part of "Kili and Tauriel" and never would they be "Fili and Kili" again.

"Fili?"

"Yes?" He'd have to get used to hearing only his name and not the rapid echo of his brother's behind it. He would not show his sadness, not here in front of his kin, not when his brother smiled so easily and left him behind without a second thought.

"Sometimes little siblings grow up, even when you don't want them to," Sigrid commented, stepping up to his side to watch the trio go.

Fili glanced at her, not surprised that she could see more in him than the others. They had become close friends these past months, and even if they did not confide their secrets, they were so alike it wasn't hard to guess their nature. "Is it so obvious?"

"No," she denied, bumping into him slightly in jest, "but I know how I would feel in your place. If that were Tilda riding off without me."

"I am not afraid for him."

"Of course not, he's a grown dwarf. Maybe he needs this, though. It can't be easy living in your shadow," Sigrid wondered aloud, "or for you to always be thinking of him instead of yourself."

"That is what family does," he defended, even as he could feel the truth of what she was saying. He did often put Kili's needs first, but that was his job as older brother, to take care of him.

"You can't always think of family first," Sigrid pointed out, "not when you're going to be King."

"Now weave the rope back through this loop," Sigrid instructed him in the same gentle tone she used with Tilda. Fili tried not to feel patronized and to appreciate her help with rebuilding dexterity in his injured arm and hand. "Try not to look so grumpy, this is helping, is it not?"

"Yes," he acknowledged, tossing the fishing net onto the table with a sigh. "I'd rather be practicing with chains of gold and molten ore, not rope and cloth."

"You're almost there, I think. I know that Dwalin appreciates your assistance in the armory in the meantime," she consoled, grinning at his disbelieving look. "Well, he has not said as much but I assume."

"I do not want to make weapons."

"You also do not want to make a fishing net, but here you are."

"What did uncle want to speak with you earlier for?" Fili asked, gathering his incomplete net, knowing he would work on it more later. She was right, it did help with the movements of his fingers. The repetitive back and forth reminded him of crafting chains, though a bit larger in scale.

"He requested my opinion on what to do about trade with Erebor," Sigrid replied matter of factly. "Or rather the lack there of."

"And?"

"And...I suggested I journey down to Bight and offer assistance to the townspeople with the rebuilding of Laketown. Or rather, a new town on the edge of the lake. Balin believes that without a town of Man nearby, Thorin will not be able to attract traders and I agree. Then dwarves would have to take on a bulk of the travel, which is more dangerous considering the value of what you trade."

"A solid plan, when do we leave?"

"We are not going anywhere. You are staying, and I am going. I believe Dori and Nori will be going with me."

Fili shook his head. "I think it better that there is a royal representative with you. I will go."

"Fili, you do not have to mind me, Dori and Nori can protect me. I am representing the King of the Lonely Mountain, few would dare to lay a hand on me," she argued, standing and pacing away. "You cannot always be with me."

"I prefer it," he replied and enjoyed the way she blushed.

"There is a caravan coming from the Blue Mountains, and in that caravan are several dwarrowdams your uncle would like you to meet," Sigrid revealed, her voice quiet but with no censure.

"I do not want to meet them," now it was he who stood and paced away. "I'll speak to uncle, he will change his mind."

"You do not want to do a lot of things, Fili," Sigrid chastised, picking up his project and tossing it to him. "That does not mean they will not be done anyways."

"They will arrive soon, stop pacing."

Fili tried to do as his uncle commanded, he really did, but within minutes he was back up and moving back and forth along the bridge in front of the king's chair.

"Fili, gather your senses. I have never seen you so out of sorts," Thorin pointed out, his tone dry but his eyes concerned. "You have met dwarrowdams before."

"That is not the issue, uncle."

"The girl will return within a few week's time. You can set aside your sense of duty for that long."

"I did not befriend Sigrid out of a sense of duty," Fili scoffed, glaring at Thorin and coming to stand in front of him. "I should have gone with her to Bight."

"I agree," Thorin surprised him by answering, "but she requested that you did not."

Fili was slack jawed for several minutes, unsure what to make of that new information. "What? Why?"

"She believes that you are relying on her in Kili's place and not taking the time to miss your brother. She is very intuitive, your Sigrid." Thorin sounded pleased as he said it, but Fili could feel him studying his reaction to the words.

"I am not putting her in Kili's place, treating her like a brother. If she felt as much, she should have told me."

"And what? You'd tell her that you feel nothing brotherly towards her?"

"You're trying to make me say something untoward," Fili accused, clenching his hands at his sides so he wouldn't reach out and shake his uncle in frustration.

"Bella believed that you might fall in love with Sigrid and told me that I should be mindful of what I say to you, lest I lose you as I have lost Kili," Thorin sighed heavily and admitted. "I have spoken with Sigrid, but she is even harder to read than you are. You both hide things behind your eyes, saying nothing of what is going on in your thoughts or your hearts. It is why I have faith that she will navigate the negotiations with the Laketown people so well. It is why I have faith that you will be a great king. It will not make courting an easy thing for you, however, Fili."

"Do you believe she feels for me?"

"I believe I know nothing," Thorin grinned. "You'll notice that I do not have a wife. Speak to her, Fili. Know where you both stand." His uncle's smile faded, the merriment gone. "But be honest with her. She will never be queen of Erebor, the laws of succession are very clear, but you, Fili, are still very young. It may be that I live long enough that it never is an issue. It may be that I die tomorrow. Make sure that she understands the role she will have in your life, or do not invite her into it."

Fili swallowed and nodded his head. He knew what Thorin was trying to say, what he was trying to make Fili understand about the life differences between man and dwarf, about the cultural differences between commitment and marriage.

How did he know if she was the one? His mother, who had married for love, only said that she knew as soon as she'd seen his father. That she felt it in her chest, a lovely light feeling of "rightness" that never left her until the day his father had died. Then everything had felt wrong, and he and Kili had seen how hard it had been on her to lose him.

He didn't know if Sigrid was his One, but he felt something.

Thorin cleared his throat and gestured behind him. The slow approach of dwarves was echoing through the chamber and Fili turned to greet them, confronted with the sight of three gold-laden, ostentatiously dressed young lady dwarves.

They definitely didn't feel right but he moved forward with a smile anyways.

It took two years for Laketown to rebuild, and Sigrid helped every step of the way. Thorin appointed her to head the guild for restoration, and though neither dwarf or Man understood that appointment, they came to respect her abilities and intelligence. She delegated with keen eyes, almost instinctually knowing who was best for which duty which the men recognized and appreciated. She held the budget with an iron fist, which the dwarves watched with suspicious eyes and eventually high esteem. It was clear to any who observed her that she had fought for and found a place comfortably between the two races, helping both but favoring neither.

It was also clear to anyone who observed that the Crown Prince felt more than affection for the heir of Girion, but what she felt in return none could ever say.

Sigrid wanted it to stay that way. When she had first returned from East Bight, more than one suitor had followed, thinking that through her they would find a way to gain more than a fair share of dwarven gold. She had set those few straight fairly quickly, but a couple had actually wanted her for her fair self and it was Fili and Thorin who had sent them on. She'd requested it of Thorin, but Fili had taken it upon himself.

That was when she knew.

Even knowing that he felt the same as she did, drawn inextricably closer with every conversation, casual touch, and chanced glance, Sigrid refused to show any sign. There was no future in courting with Fili, common sense told her that he was far too above her station in life for anything to be possible except a torrid affair. Besides, she would not want the friendship that she had come to cherish to be destroyed by unbridled lusts.

"Balin said you wanted to speak with me?" The King joined her on the ramparts, looking down on the newly built Laketown in the setting light of the sun.

"Did he tell you about the merchant from Gondor?"

"The one who asked for Tilda's hand for his son? Yes, he did."

"He is a nice man," Sigrid explained, "but it does not feel right."

"By dwarven tradition, she cannot marry until you marry. It's considered bad luck," Thorin confided. "But you are not dwarrrow."

"I would have your opinion," she requested, "on the subject. You know my feelings."

"I know you never intend to marry, but you are also young."

"You never married."

Thorin sighed. "And it complicated my life, as a King, and made it lonely, as a dwarf."

"I am not lonely," she assured him, reaching out and laying her hand on his shoulder.

"Not now, but there are many years between now and the end for you. And for your sister."

Sigrid sighed, running her hands down her dress and smiling tightly. "I've been thinking that it's time I accept a suitor."

"There are still offers for you, from Man and from Dwarf. I will have Balin gather a list for you."

"I did not think there were so many."

"There are more than you think, some you may even be surprised by," Thorin teased, running his fingers through his growing beard with a grin. He turned to go but paused when she spoke again.

"Do you regret living your life alone?"

"No, but there are still many years ahead of me, Mahal willing."

"How did your walk with the steward of Rohan progress?"

"He's swine and shall not be given another minute of my time," Sigrid swore, her dislike curling her lip.

Dis laughed and it echoed through the room, calming Sigrid's nerves as she paced frantically in front of the door. "That badly?"

"He tried to lay his hand upon my bosom! Without permission!"

"It's acceptable if he has permission?" Dis jested, tutting Tilda quiet as she slowly worked her way through an intricate braid of the lass's hair. They were supposed to be going down to Laketown for the spring solstice.

"Yes! No! Oh, bother!" She sat down heavily on the bed, huffing angrily. "I just...I felt disrespected. What is it about Men that believe they can treat women this way?"

"I told you to take a dwarven suitor," Dis admonished. She turned Tilda to study how the hairstyle looked from the front, pressing a kiss to the girl's cheek as she judged it worthy. She gave her a gentle push to the door. "Go tell Dwalin to escort you down to the festival while I speak with your sister." She waited until the girl was gone before speaking again. "Will you not consider Fili?"

"He has never put an official offer in," Sigrid replied obliquely, staring down and picking at an errant thread in her dress.

"He is my son, and if you gave him any sign of affection, he would be on his knees before you."

"He is to be King."

"And you are descended from royalty," Dis returned. She went and took a seat beside Sigrid, pulling her closer and cradling her into her side. "I love you as my kin, I would not press this so unless I truly believed that he is where your happiness is."

"You should go to the festival. If you do not leave now, you'll miss the opening ceremony."

"Are you coming?" Dis asked, accepting the change of topic with ease. They'd had this conversation before, and probably would again. "Or has that ponce ruined your taste for merriment?"

"I'll stay here, but thank you. I have a headache, a quiet night is just what Oin would suggest."

It was a quiet night, most of the mountain had descended on the town below to celebrate a new season and the abundance of crops that had finally flourished under their cooperation with Men. Sigrid sat quietly with a book for several hours before she grew restless and then no adventure story could keep her melancholy at bay. She took a seat on her balcony and gazed down at the lights below. Someone had brought in fireworks and sporadically one would spiral into the sky and light up the whole valley. The explosion echoed all the way up to her and every once and a while she thought she could hear the music. She was straining to hear it when she missed the gentle knock at her door, and the blond dwarf who entered.

"I heard you had a headache, so I brought you some food from below," Fili called out, setting the small basket on a table and joining her on the balcony.

"Thank you, Fili, but you needn't have done so. You should've stayed down there and enjoyed the festival. It only comes once a year," Sigrid scolded him, though her mouth was salivating at what she was sure was the smell of honey rolls from her old neighbor Nena's kitchen.

"I stayed long enough," he replied, coming and standing close enough that she could just barely smell the myrrh she knew scented his hair soap. "What has you so down that not even the prospect of dancing could bring you to your feet?"

Sigrid sighed heavily. "I am tired."

He kneeled and pressed a hand to her forehead. "You've been working too hard. Are you becoming ill?"

"Not tired like that," she struggled to explain, "just...tired. Of balancing the budget, chasing after Tilda, negotiating with men, the courting, the back and the forth, I'm just...tired. I don't know how you and Thorin do it, you make it look so easy."

"You need a break," Fili suggested, a small grin on his face lighting up when she mentioned being tired of courting.

"You don't get a break."

"I'm not the one frustrated."

"I am not frustrated," Sigrid denied, pushing his hand away and glaring at him. "I chose to do this job. It's my responsibility."

"Just because you chose it doesn't mean you don't need a break sometimes," he defended, standing and taking a respectful step back. She'd wounded him, just a bit she knew but she couldn't take back the words now.

"If you could do anything, be anything, what would it be?" Sigrid asked, brushing her fingers against his in a silent apology.

Fili's thoughts were heavy on his face, his smile fading before he spoke again. "I would be a coppersmith like my adad. Spend my days in a shop, twisting jewelry together or blending liquid ore until its strength was unmatched. It's dangerous, but beautiful. The colors would surprise you, the burnt red of pure copper only until it blends and becomes shades of blue matched to the sky or the water deep in the lake."

"You would not rule?" She asked, her hands clenching the arms of the chair beneath her, the question from her mouth entirely different from the question on her mind.

"If I had a choice? No," his confession was quiet but she could feel the truth of his words. It changed something in her, to know that he didn't choose this life, it was one he could not escape. It made everything she'd been feeling, everything she thought she'd known, more clear than it had felt in years. "What about you? What would you do if there were no limits, no expectations?"

She stared at him and she knew. She knew what she would do and before she could stop herself, she was doing it. She was on her feet, she laced her fingers into the thick strands of hair behind his ears and pulled him to herself, pressing her mouth against his with a silent hum that started in her chest and trembled it's way through her whole body. Anywhere their bodies touched was like a hot spot, a burning connection between them that made every pump of her heart feel like the collapse of a mine, like the final end to the hollow feeling that had haunted her everyday that she walked in this place.

He kissed her back instantly, no hesitation just the flash fire of a forge held banked too long. Her touch was air and an open window, there was no controlling the heat any longer. It smoldered in his hands as he wrapped them around her waist and pulled her close, it sparked along his lips when her tongue slid lazily across that plump bottom one she could no longer resist. He tasted like the copper he wanted to mold, sharp and oddly sweet but it drew her closer with his touch of his tongue to hers.

They moved, in sync and deeper into the room, it could almost have been dancing were it not for the slow but methodical removal of clothing. Her blouse fell by the desk, his belt by the bookcase. He hissed with pleasure when her fingernails ran lightly through the near translucent chest hair that carpeted his dense muscles, and she moaned loudly when his teeth nipped less than gently at her ear lobe.

Then they were on the bed and together, their bodies pressed intimately and she could feel him everywhere, around her, inside her, and it was an awakening to her every sense. She could tell now that his hair soap wasn't just myrrh, but also a hint of lavender, and that he'd borrowed Kili's shirt without asking, it left the lingering smell of coriander that she associated with Tauriel and she knew Fili had not been near any elves lately.

She could describe for you the softness of the skin on his back, though it covered muscles so hard that they could've been stone. He was built different from the Men she'd seen, as if Mahal had truly carved him from the mountain as Ori often described in his stories. There was no softness to his body but he touched her so slowly and with such reverence that not even the calluses on his fingers bothered her.

If anything, she wanted more.

Since she'd already given up so much of her temperance today, Sigrid decided that she would not go into the morning with regrets.

"Harder, Fili. I will not break."

His hoarse whisper in Khuzdul was incomprehensible to her, but he did as she asked, shifting his hips minutely until she gasped in his ear and his movements became frantic, finally matching what she had felt since their first touch.

Then he stroked into her just right and her entire body rebelled against her, her vision bleeding white and her body arching against him and she knew nothing but pure pleasure and nothing before had ever felt so right.

The sun slanted too bright light across the bed but the warmth of it paled in comparison to the dwarf beside her. She felt the soft brush of his eyelashes against her neck, the moist heat of his breath in the hollow of her throat, she wasn't surprised when leaned up and onto his elbow, gazing down at her with a heated look.

"Good morning," he greeted, kissing her briefly on the corner of her mouth. Sigrid appreciated that his eyes did not wander south, especially since some time in the night they'd lost her blankets to the floor.

"Good morning," she replied, running her fingers across the fine hairs on his cheek. She pulled at the ties somehow still there, slowly unwinding his braids until his hair and beard were free of ornament. He'd have to redo them before he could go out in public anyways. "I cannot be your Queen."

Fili swallowed heavily, wrapping his hand around her neck and pulling her forward until his forehead lightly bumped hers. "No, but I would have you as my wife and consort. If you would accept."

"I thought that I would feel...out of place. A wife but not a queen. My children royalty but not heirs. I do not know where I will fit in your life," Sigrid confessed, holding tears at bay through strength of will alone. She could feel it still, the worry of uselessness, the uncertainty of what this would bring. "I want to be with you regardless but please know that this terrifies me."

"If you ask it of me, I will abdicate," Fili admitted, "and a part of me wants you to. Ask of me anything, my love, and I will give it."

She shook her head and the tears finally slid out. "You will be a great King. Your people need you, they deserve you. I will not be so selfish."

"I will," he vowed, "for I cannot and will not let you go now that I have had you. Marry me."

"Yes."

Bag End

The smial at the end of Bagshot Row

In the township of Hobbiton

The Shire

Dear burglar,

One would think that I would have learned never to doubt your instincts.

Your friend,

Thorin