"Fili?" Sigrid reached out beside her. He wasn't there. She had briefly stirred in the night when Fili had come to bed, at what time she didn't know, and had promptly fallen straight back to sleep again. Apart from that one brief stir she'd slept relatively soundly, but the heavy feeling of lethargy in her limbs as she woke told her it hadn't been for long enough, and that her late night was going to exact a toll. She rolled over, and despite an attempt at staving it off with some deep breaths of fresh air, a wave of nausea welled in her chest and she closed her eyes and retched.
"I'm here, love," she heard her husband say, and she felt his warm hand stroking her forehead. She sighed, and opened her eyes to see him in front of her, his sunny eyes clouded in concern. "I was hoping you'd sleep in."
"I don't think my stomach's going to let me," she murmured, and gave him a wan smile.
"Here." He offered her a piece of lembas from the bedside table. "Eat this while I fetch you some tea and toast." She took the waybread and nibbled at it, and closed her eyes again as he kissed her forehead. "I won't be long."
"What time is the hearing?" she said as she sipped her warm tea, propped up in the bed with a stack of pillows behind her. Thanks to the food and the ginger in the tea, the nausea had subsided to a manageable level, but the tiredness was another matter. Perhaps a nap in the afternoon would be in order.
"Not until eleven. We've plenty of time," Fili replied, lying comfortably on the bed beside her. "Relax, love. Tell me about the Bride's Night. How was it?"
"It was great, once they realised the rumours they'd heard about me weren't true," she said with a short, rueful laugh. "Apparently I like everyone to call me "Your Highness," and I eat breakfast in my room each morning because I think I'm too far above everyone to come to the dining hall. I swear, Fili, one of these days I'm going to throw a knife at Marni's head."
Fili shook his head with a half-smile, at the same time disgusted with Marni and tickled by Sigrid's hollow threat. "I'd wager you wouldn't miss, too. But seriously, love, I'm sorry. I'll speak to Dain about it, if you want."
"No, it's not worth it," she said with a sigh. "It's just petty spite. She can't hurt me, not really." She took another sip of her tea, her hands wrapped around the mug, and smiled to herself. "The lasses know better now, anyway. Jorunn's a dear, and Gudrun is so sweet, she just refuses to think ill of anyone. Eydis on the other hand, she blurts out whatever she's thinking. It's hilarious, most of the time. But what about you, my love? Did you find out anything about Walcott's hearing?"
"Yes, and no," Fili said with a sigh of his own. "Nib and his troop have no love for Nyrath, that's certain. It's not my place to question Dain's decisions, though. He might take it as an affront. I'll just have to wait and see how it plays out."
"That reminds me. Nyrath was there, outside, when Benni and I got back last night," she said, nodding her head towards the door. "He said he was doing a routine inspection, and that he wouldn't want anything to happen to me in the corridors at night."
Instantly, Fili's expression hardened and he sat up, his eyes glinting. "He threatened you? Are you all right, love?"
"I'm fine, Fili. It wasn't threatening, just… creepy."
Fili's body relaxed, but his eyes never lost their icy glint. "He'd rue the day he threatened you, Sigrid, believe me. But it sounds like he knows I'm on to him. What I don't know, is who he's taking his orders from. Is it Dain, or Marni?" Sigrid watched him apprehensively as he pondered, then as he became aware of her worried face, she saw him collect himself and smile.
"Let me worry about Nyrath, love. I'll sort it out," he said. "Are you starting to feel better, Sigrid mine? We've a bit of time before the hearing – would you like to go back to sleep?"
She knew it was a diversion, but she let it slide, knowing it stemmed from concern for her wellbeing rather than from a belief that she couldn't handle it. "No. If we've got time, I'd like to stop in at the archives room, my love. There's something there I want to show you."
Sigrid stopped outside the door of the archives room, her hand grasping the handle. "Before we go in, I want to tell you, it wasn't my fault."
The look on her face, contrite, but with her eyes sparkling in amusement, had Fili intrigued. "What wasn't?" he said. "What's going on?"
"This," she said, and she opened the door.
The archives room was full of people. Eydis and Gudrun were at the bench, poring over the enormous, dusty birth registers, while Jorunn, Siv and Ylva rifled though the sheaves of diaries and medical documents that Lis was ferrying from the shelves. They all looked up as Sigrid and Fili entered.
"Morning," Siv said cheerily, a touch bleary-eyed. "How are you feeling, Sigrid? Any morning sickness?"
"My lord, my lady," Ylva said, with an admonitory glance towards her sister. "We're glad you're here. Gudrun's already found a 'daughter of men,' haven't you, dear?" She gestured to where Gudrun was smiling with bashful charm at the other end of the bench. Sigrid's eyes lit up and she gave Fili a delighted grin. He stared at her, stunned, then caught hold of her hand as she started towards Gudrun.
"They know?"
"Don't worry, Sigrid didn't say anything," Jorunn said with a laugh. "We worked it out for ourselves. We were sitting on the floor, and Sigrid nearly fainted when she got up."
"And not drinking at a Bride's Night?" Eydis added. "We're not that stupid."
"No-one suggested you were, lass," Ylva said over her shoulder. "Mind your tongue." She turned back to Fili. "Your wife was reluctant to confess that she is with child, my lord, but we winkled it out of her. Please rest assured it will go no further than us."
Fili looked at Sigrid's face with its hopeful smile, her beautiful eyes still shrouded in contrition and worry, unsure of his reaction. He gave her hand a squeeze, shrugged his shoulders, and grinned.
"Clearly, keeping secrets in the Iron Hills is harder than we thought," he said. He looked around the room at the faces of the dwarrowdams and lasses, struck by their simple kindness and generosity in wanting to help them with their search. "But I trust you. And I thank you, truly, with all my heart. Now where's this 'daughter of men' you've found?"
Rannveig, daughter of men. Mother of Austri. Wife of Andvari, son of Ai, a son of Durin. Sigrid ran her fingers lightly over the faded runes on the page, in wonder and awe at the chain of events that had brought them in front of her, meticulously recorded and preserved to be read centuries after the lives of all those they mentioned had ended. Like Buri, there was no way of knowing from the birth record whether Austri had survived infancy, but knowing that Rannveig had lived, had loved, and had been a mother amongst the dwarven people, was something. No, it was more than that. It was amazing.
"Austri. 'Eastern,'" Fili murmured over her shoulder. "I'll wager she came from the East."
"What's out there?" Sigrid asked.
Fili shrugged. "Same as what's between here and Erebor. Sparsely settled land, plains, and wilderness. Although Tauriel would say that eventually you'd reach the Wild Wood and the mountains of Orocani, and the lake where her people first woke. But that sounds like a myth to me. No-one who's been out there has ever mentioned seeing a lake."
Sigrid's fingers lightly touched the parchment again. The East. Had Rannveig been a trader, falling in love with a handsome dwarf during her travels? Or had Andvari been the one to find her, out on the eastern plains? The birth record dated back seven hundred years, well beyond the living memory of even the eldest of the elders, so unless there were other records, diaries, medical histories and the like, she would never know the circumstances of their meeting. But knowing she existed was in itself a comforting thought. Along with Bekkhildr, it made Sigrid feel that she wasn't alone.
Her musings were interrupted when the door of the archives room flew open. Will burst through the doorway and stopped just inside, panting, looking around the room frantically. His shoulders relaxed in relief as his eyes fell on Fili.
"Fili. The hearings. They're starting," he said between breaths.
"What, now?" Fili said, instantly alert. He started moving towards the door. "Someone's looking to make this as difficult as possible, clearly. Let's go."
Will and Fili disappeared through the doorway at a run, and Sigrid slid off her stool to follow them. She stopped in the doorway and looked back at Lis.
"Coming, Lis?"
The lass hesitated, her hands full of parchments. Finally Eydis got up and took them out of her hands, giving Lis a smirking grin.
"Go on, Lissi. We can take care of this," she said. She nudged Lis with her elbow. "Hurry up or you'll miss him. Miss it, I mean."
Lis rolled her eyes at Eydis, but a faint blush of colour had risen in her cheeks, and she followed Sigrid out the door.
Sigrid and Lis found Fili and Will standing with Will's aunt Griet amongst the small crowd of a dozen or so people gathered in Dain's hearing chamber, just as the bailiff was ringing the bell to announce his entrance.
"Let all here present bear witness," the bailiff said loudly. "This justice hearing is now in session."
A figure in blue robes emerged from a door to the side of the room, stepped onto the raised dais in front of them and sat, head held high, in the carved chair placed at its centre. Fili swore under his breath. It wasn't Dain. It was Nyrath.
The Captain of the Guard waved a hand at the bailiff to commence the proceedings.
"Dain, Lord of the Iron Hills, empowers his representative Nyrath, Captain of the Guard of the Iron Hills, to dispense justice in his name," the bailiff continued. "Bring forward the first prisoner."
The leader of the gang of thieves that Fili had helped capture, a dark, scowling man known as Taft, was led forward, his hands bound with rope. He stood with a glare of defiance in front of Nyrath, flanked by two guards. The bailiff handed Nyrath a parchment, and he looked it over indifferently before handing it back. His eyes roamed the room briefly, and as he registered Fili's presence they narrowed almost imperceptibly, the rest of his face impassive, before giving his attention back to Taft.
"Taft," he said in his deep, resonant voice. "You stand accused of vagrancy, plotting, and twenty-three counts of thievery. What have you to say in your defence?"
Taft shifted from foot to foot and glared up at Nyrath. "It wasn't me. You've got the wrong man."
Nyrath sneered. "Thirteen witnesses beg to differ, thief. Do you have anyone to speak for you?"
Taft shifted again, and glowered, and said nothing.
Nyrath held his head higher. "In Dain's name, I sentence you to twenty-three years labour in the mines," he said. Fili glanced at Sigrid apprehensively. Clearly Nyrath's reputation for being tough on crime was not undeserved.
Taft was led away, struggling and cursing over his shoulder at Nyrath, and the rangy, sandy-haired Hawk was brought in to face justice. With no defence and no-one to speak on his behalf, his case was dispensed with in a similarly superficial manner, with Nyrath sentencing him to eighteen years labour in the mines. Fili felt Sigrid grip his hand as the sentence was passed down, and he gave it a squeeze. Walcott, without the long history of offences that those two had had, should fare a lot better.
Walcott was brought in, hands bound and with barely concealed terror in his eyes, and Griet and Will stepped to the front of the small crowd. The bailiff handed Nyrath another parchment. Nyrath took his time studying it, then looked up at Walcott with narrowed eyes.
"Walcott," he said slowly, the merest hint of derision in his voice. "You stand accused of one count of thievery. What have you to say in your defence?"
Walcott glanced behind him at Will, who nodded, encouraging him to speak, and he cleared his throat, looking up at Nyrath in apprehension and fear.
"Your honour. I want to state the following in my defence. I fell in with Taft and Hawk by deception, and was blackmailed into joining them on the raid against the Pick and Shovel Inn. I drew a knife on a woman with the intent of robbing her, and I take full responsibility for that. But I did tell Taft we should leave it when it looked like he was going to hurt someone. I never meant for that to happen." He finished his speech and hung his head, his attempt at defending himself seemingly spent.
Nyrath's impassive eyes never left the lad's face. "You're a lucky man, Walcott," he said coolly. "If someone had pulled a knife on my wife, I certainly wouldn't have left them alive to tell the tale." Fili bristled, and he felt Sigrid squeeze his hand in response. He took a breath and controlled himself; it wouldn't help anyone if he rose to Nyrath's clumsy bait.
"Do you have anyone to speak for you?" Nyrath continued. Will and Griet stepped out from the front of the crowd.
"I will speak for my nephew, your honour," Griet said tremulously, wringing her hands. "He's done wrong, but he is sorry for it, and he deserves a second chance. I've a job lined up for him at my beamhouse, and I undertake to be responsible for his actions, with whatever surety you deem fit to set."
Nyrath drew himself up in his chair, and smiled. "I am generous, and I will show mercy to your nephew, Griet. A first offence is indeed pardonable, with a surety, as you say, and as you are known by reputation as an upstanding member of our town, I have confidence in entrusting this man's future actions to your keeping. But his offence was a serious one, and we cannot risk the town losing faith in the Lord's justice. The surety is set at ten thousand gold coins."
An audible gasp went around the chamber.
"Ten thousand?" Griet said in disbelief. "How am I to pay half such a sum?"
It was the last straw. Fili stepped to the front of the crowd.
"I will pay it. The responsibility will be mine," he said, holding Nyrath's eye.
Nyrath stared back at him. "You can't," he said triumphantly, and for the first time his impassive mask broke, and Fili saw the malice that the Captain of the Guard bore him. "I'm sorry, Fili, but you will be returning to Erebor soon. You won't be here to supervise his conduct." Nyrath let himself gloat for a moment, then his face returned to its cool, expressionless mask. "I'm terribly sorry, Griet, but if you are unable to pay the surety, this man will be sentenced to two years' labour in the mines."
Walcott's shoulders slumped, and Griet clutched at Will's arm.
Fili glared at Nyrath a moment longer, then leaned in to whisper in Griet's ear. "Tell him you'll pay it. I'll give you the coin."
"My lord…" she said weakly, shaking her head.
"It's me he wants to rile, Griet. You'd probably have got your two hundred if not for me. Tell him."
Griet took hold of Fili's hand and squeezed it, then turned to face Nyrath. "I will pay the surety, your honour," she said.
Nyrath regarded her in silence, his lips pursed, for a long while before he spoke. "Very well, Griet. The prisoner will be released into your keeping on receipt of the surety." Without another word, he rose from the chair and left the chamber, waving an irritated hand at the bailiff as he passed. The crowd of onlookers started murmuring amongst themselves, and Griet and Will hurried forward to speak to Walcott before he was led away. Fili, Sigrid and Lis gave them a moment to talk, then joined them.
"My lord…" Walcott said, his face crumpling. He brought his bound hands up to hide his face as he sobbed, then he gulped in a breath and composed himself, wiping his eyes one at a time with the back of one hand.
"You've been given a second chance, Walcott. Don't waste it, or I'll hunt you down myself," Fili said, not unkindly. The young man nodded, and they watched as the guards led him away. Lis moved to Will's side for a quiet word as Griet approached the bailiff to discuss terms, and Fili felt Sigrid's hand drawing him aside.
"My love," she whispered, and put her arms around him. She rested her forehead on his for a moment, then drew back to look at him. "You're the best person I know. But do you trust Walcott, after what he did?"
"Not at all," he said, and he felt Sigrid start in surprise. "But look at Griet and Will, Sigrid. Look at their love for him. That's what I trust. If he will but listen to them, he may turn out all right."
She slid her arms back around him, and he relaxed into her embrace. When she finally let him go, he gave her a rueful smile.
"We may have saved Walcott, love, but did you see Nyrath's face? He's shown his hand, and he knows I'm on to him. I don't think for a minute that this is over."
