Only one more day. It seems to have crept up upon me so quickly. There have been a flurry of people in and out, doing all manner of things to me, and hardly allowing me to lift a finger. I wonder if this is typical of a bride, or of a lady of the people, or a combination of the two. If I could work my way, I would rather be left alone. That sounds terrible, I know, but I can hardly think, and the great day is tomorrow.
I have seen Da and Tilda at last (Bain has been kept busy exploring with Kili and engaging in mock fights with some of the other dwarves, Dwalin's teaching apparently having paid off. He is apparently quite the novelty here, a tall warrior of the race of men. I hope he is enjoying himself.) Tilda exclaimed over my gown and told me of the dress she is to wear. She was wearing the funniest cap that she said Kili gave to her, with great long tails of fabric that hung before the ears and ended in beaded tassels, with a crest in the back that looks like a bantam rooster. I had a sneaking suspicion that it was a joke at first, but since then I have seen other dwarrow-children with more fantastic headgear, and so I am glad that I did not say anything.
It was so good to see Da - his face was so welcome to me after a sea of strangers. He is so handsome, I think. His eyes are dark and smiling, and he looks so wise and kind and strong, his head held high, towering above the dwarves that fill this place. His clothing was much unchanged, and it made my chest ache a little to see that some things have not been made to look different here.
"Sigrid," he greeted, drawing me into his arms, and hugging me tight. "You look beautiful."
"Not so beautiful as you," I murmured back, and he smiled.
"So many unfamiliar faces. You are a sight for sore eyes."
I nodded. "That's what I mean."
"These clothes..." He trailed off and looked approvingly at me. "They suit you."
I blushed. "Do you think so? I feel so silly sometimes."
"Well, you don't look silly. I'm sure you know what I am going to say." I nodded, and he whispered in my ear, "I wish your mother could see you."
"I think she can," I whispered back, and he nodded.
"You are right."
He could not linger long, but was hurried off to a meeting with Thorin and the other dwarf lords that must take place before the ceremony. Da kissed me, promising to see me tomorrow.
"I love you," he managed before he left. This was the last time I shall see him as his own. The next time we meet I shall belong to another.
Today, in a rare moment of quiet, I was able to read back over the entirety of this journal, and I realized what a silly creature I can be sometimes. It was embarrassing in a way, and yet pleasing to see the stretch of my life since my fifteenth year, up until now. And it was so strange to read when I first began to write about the dwarves and Fili, as if it were nothing, not knowing it would prove to be one of the most important things that happened to me.
Tomorrow there will be so many firsts, just as today there are so many lasts. Tonight will be my last night to be spent as a maid. I am terrified, to be honest. I am sure to disappoint, do do something wrong. But I can only pray that love will be given to me in great amounts to guide my actions as I bestow my entire body on my husband. That is the only way I can think of this without trembling.
It is still the same day- night, rather, and I cannot sleep, so I have gotten out my journal to write for a bit more. I feel so alone. My room is so quiet, not a sound can be heard from the great soaring halls without, and my own breathing is the only thing to keep me company. I have lived my entire life in one room with my family before this, so it is difficult.
I am staring up at the brass polishing above my bed, and can see myself in its reflection. I am lying on my back with my knees bent, my feet sunk deep into the great bed. My shift is white against the deep color of the coverlet, and my hair is a pool of dark against the pillows. Tomorrow night I shall fear to look up at all.
I am going to endeavor not to think on it. It is silly, I know, but I feel that I should be preparing myself with something other than fear. Love. The love that I know I shall come to feel for him, nay, that I already do, though I hardly know him. It is difficult to explain, but though I have recorded his good qualities time and time again, it is not that which makes me love him. It is something else - maybe the fact that in our very first conversation he admitted to me that he does not always know the answers to the things in this world. Maybe it is his care and love for those who are hurting. Maybe it is the way he laughs at things which most people would pass right over.
I feel glowing now. He is mine. The great, mysterious, and yet kind dwarf that will one day be king of this place will belong to me as husband, as I will belong to him as wife. We will know each other more deeply than even our own families have known us, and will love as intimately as the closest two hearts and two bodies can possibly be. Our souls will be forever bonded by this union, to be broken not even in death. I am told that dwarves only love once, and it is a tremendous honor to be the one upon whom love is conferred. Again, I don't feel that I deserve it. But I will try my hardest.
I wonder if Fili is lying awake right now as well. I can try to imagine him - his limbs and strong back would be hard beneath the softer clothing of sleep, and his face would be paler in repose, the great mass of golden hair that crowns him crushed beneath his heavy head, and his mouth still and relaxed, not with a hint of a smile, as Tilda sleeps, but with a slightly lowered brow, as Da's is, when at rest. He is beautiful.
My fears gone in the brave shadow of night, I feel that I should not mind so much now were he to be beside me, in my bed. The flickering of the candles belie my bold words, and show me in the reflections above one very, very small upon this great space. I stand taller than he, but I am sure that in all things, he will be my master. It is a strangely pleasing sensation.
Farewell, then, to Sigrid the maid. I shall not write tomorrow, as I fear I will be too busy, but in the days following, I shall endeavor to catch up. I know I will not want to forget anything.
