As Fraeg led them through the underground passageways towards the eating hall, Sigrid put out a hand to touch the timber panelling that lined the walls, so different to the stone of Erebor. "What's behind the walls, Fili?" she asked. "Earth?"
"Yes, it's earth," Fili replied. "All the halls and residences around here started out as mines, centuries ago. Once all the ore was removed, they converted the mines to housing. The current mines are a few miles north, aren't they, Fraeg?"
"So they tell me," Fraeg said with dry humour. "I've not been. I've a busy practice here in town, and days off are few and far between."
Sigrid considered Fraeg for a moment, suddenly mindful of something. "Do you treat the men and women of the town as well as the dwarves, Fraeg? You're clearly familiar with pregnancies among my people."
"Well, we're not that different, are we?" he said, turning and giving her a half-grin as he walked, his vivid blue eyes twinkling. "Two arms, two legs, one head. Anatomically it's all much of a muchness. As the two of you have gone out of your way to demonstrate." He gave a quiet laugh. "No, it's language, culture, tradition. Those are the things that keep us apart. Most of it's nonsense, and I've no patience for it. Not when people need help. Here we are."
Sigrid shared a glance with Fili, impressed by the healer's open and accepting attitude, and he grinned at her. Whatever he was about to say next, however, was drowned out as they reached the doorway of the spacious dining hall. As soon as Fili appeared, a dozen shouts of "Fili!" went up around the room, and Sigrid and Fraeg had to step to the side to dodge the throng of people that crowded around Fili, clamouring to clap him on the back or clasp his arm, all speaking in rapid Dwarvish. Sigrid barely understood one word in ten. From the centre of the crowd Fili looked up, grinning and laughing, and tried in vain to make introductions.
"Sigrid, this is Nyi, and Hannar, and Sviur; Thekk, Vithi; Vit and Lit; you know Onar and Duf, I don't know where Nib is. Anyone seen him? And this is Ginnar, and Finn, and Fjalar…"
Sigrid shook her head with a laugh. She knew she'd never remember everyone's names, and motioned to Fili to stay where he was and enjoy greeting his friends. There would be time enough to meet everyone later, once the excitement had died down. She leaned in to speak to Fraeg.
"I don't understand what they're saying. Does the Iron Hills have its own dialect?"
"Yes. Yet another way we're divided, by a common language," Fraeg said drily. "Why don't you leave your husband to reacquaint himself with his friends, and come and meet my granddaughter?" He held out his arm.
Sigrid smiled and took it. "With pleasure."
Fraeg's eyes searched the hall, and brightened in recognition when they fell on a pretty, brown-haired dwarf lass, absorbed in the book she had laid open on the table in front of her, her hand picking absent-mindedly at a plate of food to one side. Fraeg led Sigrid over, and gently cleared his throat to get the lass's attention.
"Lis, my sweet, apologies for the interruption. This is Sigrid. I thought you might be able to help her with some research."
Lis looked up from her book, a smile for her grandfather lighting up her face. It faded into shock as she saw Sigrid. She stood up hurriedly, knocking her book sideways on the table and nearly sending her plate of food to the floor.
"Oh, your Highness, I'm so sorry," she said, grasping at the items sliding about the table. She dropped an awkward curtsey. "It's an honour to meet you."
"And it's a pleasure to meet you, Lis," Sigrid replied with a smile, holding out her hand. "Fili and I are searching for some information, and I'd be truly grateful if you could help us. But please, enough with the titles. You must call me Sigrid."
Lis looked at Sigrid, surprise evident in her manner, though Sigrid didn't know from what cause, and she took Sigrid's proffered hand. "I'm sorry," she said again. "I thought… never mind. What sort of research are you in need of, Sigrid?"
"The sort that requires tact and discretion, Lissi," Fraeg said quietly, looking at his granddaughter from under his eyebrows. Lis blushed and nodded, and glanced around the crowded dining hall.
"Of course. I'm sorry, Sigrid," she said for the third time. "I'm free tomorrow morning, if you'd like to meet somewhere quiet to discuss it?"
"That would be perfect," Sigrid replied. "I appreciate your time. And Lis, there's no need to apologise, truly."
"I'm s…" Lis caught herself about to apologise again, and the two of them looked at each other and burst out laughing, and Sigrid knew that she had made a friend in the Iron Hills.
Sigrid thanked Fraeg and Lis warmly, and made her way back to where Fili was still surrounded by a circle of chattering friends. He looked up as she approached and held his arm out for her to join him.
"We've been invited to tour the blast furnaces and mines tomorrow, beloved," he said as he drew her close to his side. "Vithi and Thekk here are forge masters and ironmongers. They'll tell you everything you ever wanted to know about iron. I'll be able to pick out some steel billets, too. I'm going to make Tilda a pair of hunting knives."
"Mmm, blast furnaces. That does sound fascinating," Sigrid said, trying to keep all traces of sarcasm out of her voice as she nodded her greeting to the dwarves gathered around Fili. She laid a hand on his chest and gave him a significant look. "Unfortunately I've just made plans to meet with Fraeg's granddaughter tomorrow. You remember, Fili, that 'research' I'm interested in? Why don't you go see the furnaces, and you can tell me all about it when you get back."
Fili's face fell. "I should come with you."
Sigrid shook her head, with a poignant smile for the disappointment in Fili's eyes. "No, my love, you go. I can make a start on it while you catch up with your friends."
"All right, if you're sure," he said softly, before lifting one eyebrow, a tell-tale dimple in his cheek. "It's a shame, though. You'll be missing a treat."
"Mmm, I know," Sigrid nodded, her eyebrows raised and lips pursed in an exaggerated expression of regret. "It's such a shame."
Fili turned and gestured for the dwarves to precede him to the tables to sit down for lunch, and as the crowd moved off, he drew Sigrid close and murmured in her ear. "You're a terrible liar, love. But thank you."
"So, what now, Fili, my love? Have you got some other iron-related fun planned for us this afternoon?" Sigrid quipped as they made their way out of the dining hall after a pleasant lunch with Fili's friends.
"No such luck," Fili replied with a laugh. "No, I though we'd go and see the town. Are you up for it, love?"
"Absolutely," she said. Mindful of her sensitive skin, Sigrid asked to stop by their guest room to fetch her sunhat on the way, and then Fili led her by the hand through the maze of passageways and out through the double-height, iron-reinforced timber doors, set flush with the hillside, and into the streets of the town.
It was so different to Dale and Erebor, Sigrid thought as they ambled along in the sunny afternoon. She had seen nothing of the town on her arrival earlier in the day, the combination of physical illness and mortifying embarrassment causing her to hide her face in Fili's shoulder as he had carried her in his arms from the gates to their guest quarters, and she found the differences to her home environment striking. A similar range of shops and houses as was found in Dale graced the streets, which were laid out in a charmingly irregular fashion in the narrow valley with steep hills on either side, but the populations of dwarves and men and women were far more integrated than they were back at home, the two peoples mingling freely in the shops and taverns of the town. The products of dwarven ironmongeries and jewellery workshops were displayed side-by-side with the wares of human bakers and haberdashers, butchers and basketmakers, and Sigrid everywhere saw the two peoples amiably chatting, inspecting goods, and haggling over purchases. If there was anywhere in the kingdom where other couples like Fili and herself had existed, it would be here in the Iron Hills.
Fili pointed out a tannery shop, graded leather in various earthy colours hanging on display racks to either side of the shop door.
"Shall we order you some new riding breeches, love?" he suggested with a smile.
"Good idea," she said, and stepped forward to enter the door.
The air was full of the distinctive smell of leather as Sigrid went inside, strong but not overpowering, and thankfully not triggering any queasiness in her stomach. She glanced around the racks of hides, waterskins, bags and tack as the proprietor came forward, a cheery, grey-haired woman in a leather apron.
"Welcome, miss! What can I help you with today?"
"I'm after a deer or kid skin for a new pair of riding breeches," Sigrid said. "And if you could recommend a tailor, I'd appreciate it."
"The deerskin's just here," the woman said, pointing out the soft taupe leather pieces on a rack. "We've no kidskin on hand, though. I'd have to give our beamhouse a week to prepare some, if you'd prefer it. Sigbert over in Market Lane would be able to run you up the breeches, no trouble at all."
They were interrupted by a voice from the doorway. "No, no, no. Sigbert's a ham-fisted butcher, Griet. No-one's touching my lady's clothing but me."
Sigrid turned around in surprise. "Benni!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" She held out her arms as her friend Bennon from Erebor stepped forward to kiss Sigrid on both cheeks.
"Lady Dis sent me along with your gowns and jewels," he said. "Messenger service. Thank goodness you've arrived, my lady, I've been here two weeks and I'm bored to tears. How was your trip? I met my lord your husband outside, handsome as ever. But let me look at you." Benni held Sigrid's arms wide and surveyed her from head to foot with a practised eye. He frowned, then gave a little start, and looked incredulously back at Sigrid's face, and she knew that he had realised she was with child. She quickly placed a finger on her lips, glancing at Griet, and he nodded, his hand on his chest and his eyes misty. He grasped Sigrid's hand again with an excited shake, then, for Griet's benefit, quickly resumed his breezy manner. "Your skin's a mess, my dear. I'll get you some rosehip oil. And what on earth is that you have on your head? Honestly, have I taught you nothing about fashion?"
Sigrid laughed. "I had to keep the sun off my face somehow, Benni."
Bennon sighed and rolled his eyes. "Thank goodness I'm here. Another week and you'd be positively provincial." He sobered, and looked at Sigrid significantly. "Leave your breeches to me, my lady, I'll make sure they'll be suitable for your needs." He looked down at her waist and hips, turning her from side to side, and Sigrid could practically see the calculations going on in his mind. He looked back up at her and smiled. "We'd best have another fitting of your gowns, too," he added.
"I'm free tomorrow afternoon," Sigrid said. "Come and find me in our guest rooms, and we'll have a catch up." She flashed him an impish grin and leaned in for a conspiratorial murmur. "Anything to get me out of visiting the smelters."
Taking leave of Bennon, Fili and Sigrid continued their stroll through the town, and headed out the gates at the opposite end to where they had entered earlier that day. A narrow path, almost overgrown with greenery, forked off from the main road about a hundred yards from the gates, and Fili led the way along it towards the steep grassy hill to one side of the valley. At the slope of the hill they found another pair of tall arched doors, much older than the ones at the entrance to the dwarves' dwellings in town, made solely of hardwood, without any iron reinforcement, and oiled and rubbed and polished to such an extent over what Sigrid assumed were centuries, that the perfectly preserved timber was as smooth and shiny as glass.
"Does someone live here?" Sigrid asked, as Fili hauled one of the doors open. Behind the door was the opening to a silent, unlit cavern.
"No, no-one lives here," Fili said softly. "It's a burial vault. Come on."
Fili pulled two torches from a stacked pile just inside the door, and lit them, handing one to Sigrid. She followed him inside.
The flickering light of the two torches illuminated the floor in front of them, and reached dimly into the corners of the cavern to their left and right, but the roof above Sigrid's head remained dark. She shivered, and moved closer to Fili. He sensed her discomfort and switched his torch to his other hand, taking hold of hers in his firm, warm grasp.
"Don't be afraid, beloved, you know you're safe with me. And I know this vault like the back of my hand. My father is buried here."