I've been cleaning things up a bit: minor overhaul. The prologue is gone and the second half of the last chapter has been completely rewritten. I made a mistake the last time that I updated. I tried to force myself to write when I shouldn't have and then posted the chapter anyway to try to make my own self-enforced deadline. I'll not be making that mistake again.

For those that don't want to reread, here's the long and short of it:

The last segment is Kíliel scene has been expanded and refined. They're a bit more in character, I think, and I added in the dress reveal. (Someone was kind enough to point out that I had missed that opportunity, and I kinda feel silly after the build up that I gave it.)

So that's pretty much it. Oh, and there's more shameless flirting, because I like that sort of thing.

By midday all of Dale had been to see the vendor's stalls and handfuls of Men had been making their way from the mountain since long before the sun had first crested the horizon. The only Dwarves to be seen yet were those that had already been in the city and no sign had come of the Elves at all. Fíli did not doubt that Thorin and the others would join them, it was only a matter of when. The Elves, however, he was less certain of.

The Dwarven prince had passed the time by perusing the goods on display. He had been surprised and pleased to find that Bifur and Bofur had made their way down early enough to commandeer a booth of their own for selling wares, though he had seen more toys given away then sold. Bard had given each man, woman, and child a share of the gold Dale had received to spend as they saw fit and Fíli was glad to see some good coming from the former dragon's hoard.

As the day had worn on, the fair-haired Dwarf had settled himself at an empty table in the town square to wait for the rest of his countrymen to arrive. He nibbled on the foods he had bought and watched the people as they moved across his path, unused to being so idle but enjoying the moment for what it was. He was glad to see the the people of Dale healing. Families, whole and fragmented, coming together with their neighbors to put aside the hardships of their past and look onwards towards the future.

A familiar voice reached his ears and Fíli turned in time to catch Sigrid watching him from across the plaza. She was a vision of scarlet and sunshine in the dress that she wore and he did not bother to hide his smile as she blushed at being caught looking. They had agreed to stay apart for the evening, not wanting to risk over-familiarity with the watchful eyes of so many around them. He had not thought that it would be so much of a challenge when they had made the arrangement, but that had also been before Sigrid had been tasked with entertaining the son of one of the merchants.

The lad had been friendly enough when he and Fíli had been introduced, Brennan or Braden or some-other such name, but the cordial feelings from that morning were swiftly turning sour. He watched as the young man called Sigrid's attention away again. She had spent the day so far showing the boy around the newly rebuilt city, much as she had with Fíli when he had first arrived in Dale, and had made no effort to leave her side.

The Dwarf studied the young man from a distance, not liking at all how the boy had angeled himself towards Sigrid leaving an indecent space between them. She was too kind and too sweet to notice the smitten nature behind the young man's behavior. Fíli could see all too clearly the way the other man's eyes lingered on her when her attention was turned elsewhere.

When the boy dared to lay his hand on the curve of Sigrid's waist, presumably to steer her through the crowds, Fíli found himself on his feet and ready to remove the hand by force.

His quick movements caught Sigrid's attention and her gaze found his again. She sent him a smile that was, no doubt, meant to be reassuring and small wave of her hand before stepping out of the reach of her charge.

Fíli knew for a fact that she could take care of herself now, but that did not lessen his worry. The hearts of Men were known to be fickle and easily changed. What would he do if she were to choose the easy life the merchant's son could offer her over the uncertainty that was promised from a life with himself?

He had still been debating whether or not to stand by their plan and keep his distance or to take his chances with spiriting her away when the sound of horns blared throughout the streets. The Dwarves had finally arrived.

It was a small procession that crossed the valley from the Lonely Mountain to Dale. Most of the Men had already left by the time the Dwarves were ready to set out, leaving those of Thorin's company and a handful of Iron Hills Dwarves to make the journey. The mountain would be far from empty as a number of Men who had no family to visit had decided to stay behind to continue their training. Dáin and a group of his men, as well, had chosen not to attend the festival, not trusting to leave the newly reclaimed kingdom defenseless. It was a sound reason and one that Thorin had not been able to argue, though Kíli had been relieved when his uncle had asked a number of their own comrades stay and be watchful.

When they reached the gates of Dale, the young Dwarf took in the buildings they passed with a craftsman's eye and found himself impressed. From the looks of things, the repairs were near to finished and Fíli would be able to return home again soon. The thought was a welcome one and all ready he found himself feeling more light-hearted as they neared the sounds of music and laughter. This was what was needed; a reason for all to be merry. The people in this corner of the world could all do with a healthy dose of good cheer.

The crowd in the city square was thick with Men and, though tall for a Dwarf, Kíli could not see over the heads around him. A quick glance showed that Tauriel was all ready scanning the crowd. For an Elf she was quite tiny, her height on par with some of the Men, which he had no complaint with as that reduced the difference between them. Still, she was able to find her quarry easily enough and was soon leading him through the bodies around them.

Fíli had been easy enough to spot, standing on a chair as he was, and Kíli laughed as he closed the distance between them. His brother met him on the ground and they clasped forearms in a formal greeting, which lasted only a moment before Fíli had pulled him into an embrace. It had been a matter of days since they had last seen each other, but still, it was good to be together again.

When they parted Kíli stepped back beside Tauriel and gave his brother a good once over. He was surprised to see Fíli looking so well, considering how miserable his brother had looked the last time that he had seen him. "You look far too happy for the idiot I last took you for."

He had been expecting to have to search his brother out. He had believed that Fíli would be hidden away in a darkened corner, had he deigned to attend the festival at all. But here his brother stood, radiating happiness, and Kíli, while relieved to see it, still squinted at the other Dwarf as if to see the reason hidden on his person somewhere.

Fíli's smile turned just the slightest bit wicked. "I've decided to take your advice, brother." He cast a swift glance to Tauriel and Kíli gave the smallest of nods, a gesture to acknowledge that Tauriel knew of Fíli's secret. "I consider myself to be a happy idiot at the present." The blond Dwarf faced the Elf fully and bent into a formal bow. "You must forgive me my rude behavior the last time we met, my lady. I had not been at my best."

Kíli fought not to laugh at his brother. He looked up to find Tauriel smiling down on Fíli and being altogether far too proper. "Think nothing of it. We are to be family one day; your troubles are my troubles."

At her pardon, Fíli rose and offered to show them the city. Kíli shared a look with Tauriel before answering for them both in the negative. He was certain that his brother was bursting to show off his handiwork, but Tauriel did not hold the same love for stone that Dwarves were prone to. The settled instead at Fíli's table, content to pass the time just the three of them until feast began.

Kíli took in the area around them. "Still no Elves." He looked to Tauriel and laid his hand over hers. "Besides you, my love." He reached over to steal a few bites from the plate on the table, only offering a smile when Fíli slid it out of his reach with a mock frown.

"Go buy your own." His brother's laugh belied the petulant words. "Bard and Sigrid have both assured me that we shall not go hungry tonight."

"And how are the bowman and his family?" Tauriel looked almost reluctant to ask. Kíli could understand, after the reaction that she had gotten the last time she had inquired. But he knew, also, that she had grown quite fond of Bard's children in their short time together and he was glad when Fíli answered without a fuss.

"Well. They are all well." Fíli waved the hand that was sat on the table. "Bain is training with the garrison to become a soldier." At Tauriel's worried look he chuckled. "You shouldn't doubt him, he's working very hard to prove himself despite his age. Tilda is just as determined with her ladies lessons, but she and Sigrid find time each day to visit with us Dwarves." At this he paused and looked away. "I would say that nothing good can come from Sigrid and me, but every moment with her proves that wrong."

A cheer from the other end of the square broke the heavy atmosphere of the table. Kíli watched as full mugs began to appear throughout the crowd and he smiled. The wine had finally been unloaded and the kegs tapped. Now the fun could truly begin. He pardoned himself from his brother and Tauriel with a promise to return with drinks for all.

The sun had not yet set, but was sunk low enough to not shine on the middle of the city and with the stretching shadows came an increase in the chill. What he sought now was the best Dwarven remedy for any cold; inebriation. He was looking forward to seeing what his prim and proper lady-love would be like once she was well into her cups.

The crowd was not so thick or unruly that he had the fear of being trampled, and he was able to reach the kegs in a fair amount of time. He was on his way back, three mugs carefully balanced in his hands, when the horn sounded again announcing the arrival of the Elves.

Thorin could, in the privacy of his own mind at least, admit that the night had not been altogether horrendous. After the food had been unloaded and the feast begun there had been the expected squabbling between the his men and Thranduil's, but nothing had gone beyond petty bickering. The food had been excellent, even if it had come from Mirkwood, the wine was still flowing, and the music was lively enough to get his toe tapping. He could almost forgive Bard for setting the three kings at a table together.

By the time that Bard motioned to a man off to the side, Thorin had all but forgotten the last part of the festival. The Festival of Returns. He was surprised when two Elves stepped forward carrying a trunk between them. The table they sat at was raised on a dais giving him a clear view of what the lay inside. The weapons and effects that had been sacrificed when the Company had made its escape from the Elvish dungeon lay the large wooden box.

The Elf king was far too smug when Thorin looked his way and the Dwarf did not bother to hide his disdain when he spoke. "How generous of you to return what is all ready ours."

Thranduil raised a brow over a sardonic smirk. "Yes. It is, isn't it? I thought it a fitting gift, considering."

Bard motioned again, perhaps to keep the ceremony going, perhaps to stop the bickering that he was caught between.

The next chest brought forward was much smaller and carried by only a single Dwarf. At Thorin's nod the contents were presented, a pile of gems as bright as starlight, the white gems of Lasgalen. Thranduil leaned forward in his chair as if drawn by the light reflected from the chest. Another nod, and the lid was closed again.

Thorin sent a smirk of his own to the Elven king. He may have agreed to part with the gems, he had made no such agreement about being friendly.

Believing the exchange to be over, Thorin was caught off guard when Bard motioned one last time. A Man stepped forward, carrying a small object wrapped in a cloth.

Bard accepted the item before laying in front of Thorin. "And I return this to you, just as promised."

The Dwarf king pulled back the covering to reveal a familiar jewel, the Arkenstone. He reared back in his sit as if the stone itself would burn him. Even when he did not seek out the cursed treasure, it would seem that it still found its way to him.

His reaction caused a ripple of activity in those nearest but he ignored it all. He had eyes only for the gem in front of him as a mixture of fear and longing fought within him. He could hear little over the pounding in his ears. The stone had power, of that there was little doubt; but for good or ill, that was the question.

He was still debating whether to take the jewel in hand when the decision was made for him. The covering was folded once more over the jewel and Thorin looked up to see Balin watching him, Heart of the Mountain in hand. After all of the years he had known Balin, he still could not decipher the look on older man's face.

"I'll see that this is returned to its rightful place."

Thorin nodded, unable to speak. Now that he was no longer in the presence of the Arkenstone he could think clearly again. If he was still so affected by one small stone, perhaps he had not quite defeated the sickness that had weighed heavy on himself and his grandfather.

He did not dare to look at the Elven king, or even Bard. His response to the gift had been less than subtle and he did not wish to see the question on the Man's face or the knowing look on the Elf's. He heaved a hefty sigh and settled his shaking hands in his lap. The night could not last forever and he would find himself back within his mountain soon enough. For all that he had been feeling closed in as of late, he now found himself longing for the confining walls of his kingdom.

With the formalities over and done with, the night began in earnest. A small band from Dale had been playing through supper but a handful of Dwarves had joined them after and the music was in full swing. Tables had been moved to expand the area for dancing and Tauriel watched Kíli laugh as he swung a delighted Tilda around.

Tauriel herself had yet to join him on the floor. The tempo was much faster than she was used to, though not unpleasant to the ear. She had hoped to see her dearest friend, but had been disheartened to learn that Legolas had left the realm. King Thranduil had yet to look her way, and she hoped to end the evening with that unchanged. She could not imagine that an exchange between them would end well.

Tilda's whoop of excitement brought Tauriel's attention back to the dancers in time to see Kíli spinning the young girl around again. The Elf smiled and glanced to the man at her right. She followed his line of sight to find Sigrid dancing with the same young man that had been by her side all night.

"It would be far less painful to ask her to dance," she nodded in the direction of the couple that he was glaring at, "then for you to stand here grinding away your teeth."

Fíli seemed startled to have been addressed and his scowl lessened at the distraction.

"I have been warned to keep my distance for the night." His cheeks pinked just the slightest and had Tauriel not had such keen sight, she may not have noticed in the torchlight. "We are, maybe, a bit too obvious in our affections."

They both turned back to watch the crowd again and Tauriel was unprepared for the question that came next. "Have you and Kíli talked any about children?"

Her mouth opened to answer but no sound came out. She let her gaze travel back to her raven haired love, watching his interactions with Bard's youngest daughter. "I confess that we have not." Now that the thought was there, Tauriel wondered if a cross between Elves and Dwarves could even be possible. There were half-Elven, of course, but all those that she had heard of had been the product of Elves and Men.

Fíli nodded, perhaps in understanding, perhaps in acknowledgement. His eyes never left the form of Sigrid. "You should not wait too long. When lifetimes are measured so differently, a lifetime together does not hold the same meaning. It is a tragedy to waste what little time there is."

Kíli was certainly having a grand time, even if Tauriel had so far refused to dance with him. Tilda had taken to standing on his feet and they were keeping just ahead of the tempo, but no one seemed to notice or care. Even laughing and frolicking as he was, Kíli was sure to keep one eye on Tauriel. At first it had been rooted in worry, afraid that whomever was focusing on her in the mountain may have followed them here. Now, many cups into the wine, he was waiting for a moment of weakness, watching for any sign that his invitation to dance would be accepted.

She was talking with Fíli, and both were looking far too serious for such an event. When he was able to catch his brother's eye, Kíli gave a meaningful look to Tauriel and an expressive wiggle of his eyebrows.

Fíli lifted a brow of his own, having understood the unspoken request. He glowered back in response and Kíli stuck his tongue out at him. Rolling his eyes in an exaggerated movement, the blond Dwarf turned to offer his hand to Tauriel. She may have been able to rebuff all of his own requests but Kíli would wager that her good manners would press on her to accept the courtly invitation of his brother.

He watched as she hesitated. Fíli said something that caused her to smile and then the two were making their way into the dancing crowd.

"You should ask Sigrid to dance."

Tilda had been quiet for so long that Kíli had nearly forgotten that she was there.

"What was that?"

"Sigrid." She was laughing again and, if he had not known better, he would have thought there was a mischievous twinkle to her eye. "If Kíli is going to dance with Ms Tauriel, then you should dance with Sigrid. It's only fair and Brayden's a bit of a bore. I'm sure she'd love the excuse to take a break from the boy-sitting."

Kíli had to chuckle at that. "Boy-sitting?"

"Well, he's not a baby, but he does require a lot of attention." She had a smirk on her baby face, and continued in a loud whisper. "I confess that I left her to it as soon as I could find an escape."

There was a good chance that Tilda had been spending too much time among Dwarves and the thought made him smile all the wider. He looked to the couple in question. With Tilda's comment in mind, Sigrid's smile did seem a bit forced.

He looked back to the young girl in his arms. "You're sure that you don't mind?"

"I could use the break." She took on a weary tone. "I'm not as young as I used to be."

Definitely too much time among his kind.

With another laugh and a wink of his eye, Kíli twirled Tilda one last time before leading her back to her seat.

It was no trouble to catch sight of Sigrid again. She and Brennan were the only two stiff figures in a sea of flowing merrymakers. She seemed to be leading as much as the young man and the two were keeping to the outer rim of the crowd.

He gave the gentleman a tap on the shoulder. "May I cut in?"

Sigrid's delighted voice calling his name was overlapped by the boys response.

"The lady is taken for the evening."

It was a refusal and a dismissal all at once and Kíli found himself face to back with the boy.

He was more annoyed by the impudence than insulted. Then he caught sight of Sigrid's face and was saved the choice of whether to give the brat a lesson in politeness, or just toss him to the side.

She was livid, and Kíli could begin to see what his brother found so alluring in her.

The two were no longer dancing and she stepped out of the boys arms. "That's not really for you to say. That was very rude."

The boy, Brayden, lowered his voice, though not enough to keep from being heard. "Whatever are you talking about? He's just a Dwarf."

That had apparently been the wrong thing to say. Sigrid drew herself up to her full height, and though shorter than the young man in front of her, she still cut an imposing figure.

"He isn't just an anything. That Dwarf you just insulted is the nephew of King Thorin." She was spitting mad by this point. "He's a brave hero, one that I owe my life to, and he is my friend. Unlike, you who is nothing more than an irritating prig."

The smile on Kíli's face was almost indecent, he had enjoyed watching that so much. Sigrid spared neither of them a look as she stormed away. She did grab for Kíli's hand as she passed, leading them both away from the dumbstruck young man she had just dressed-down. He wondered how long she had been holding her temper that night.

He was still grinning like a loon when they slowed to a stop and he fought not to laugh at the horrified look on her face.

"What have I done?" She turned wide eyes to Kíli.

Had he been more sober he may have been a better comfort. As it was, all he could do was offer a shrug and try not to laugh.

She did not seem to upset by the lack of an answer, and he was grateful that the question had been rhetorical.

"What if he tells his da what I said? What if I've just ruined the trade between our kingdoms? Or- Or worse." Her words were speeding up as a panic began to set in. "You don't think this could start a war do you? I haven't been royalty for very long, I don't know how these things work."

He had started them dancing during her ramble, and shook his head now as they moved around the other dancers. "Nah. Trust me, I've been a prince, -ish, all my life. It takes more than putting a lad in his place to start a war. He'll probably be too embarrassed to mention it to his father, I wouldn't worry."

A mane of yellow hair caught his eye and he enjoyed the twitch of Fíli's eye when his brother saw Sigrid and not Tilda in his arms. Kíli raised a brow in challenge and was delighted to see narrowed eyes in return. Sometimes it was all too easy to sway his brother. The endless flow of wine might have played a part as well. Kíli was several cups behind both Fíli and Tauriel, as they had continued to drink without him once the music had started.

The brothers led their partners through the crowd, never missing a step as the distance between the two couples shrank. With a practiced move Kíli spun Sigrid away from his body and it was Tauriel that he drew back into him. He spared a glance for the other couple, content to see that the switch had been made successfully, before beaming up at the Elf in his arms.

"I told you I'd get you to dance with me." He did not try to keep the smug from his voice.

He was met with a raised eyebrow and a knowing smirk. "You've done that before."

"Maybe." She was too tall for him to spin under his arm, so he spun under hers instead. "Once or twice."

She laughed at that, a sound without reservations, and he counted the night as a victory. He knew that life would always have its troubles, but so long as they could have moments like this one, he would gladly pay that price.

This chapter could probably do with another read through or three, but I've taken long enough to post it. The festival was written as one ginormous piece and then broken into two so no waiting months for the next chapter.