Day 156
Dusk on the one hundred fifty-sixth day since the battle finds Fíli at his window, overlooking the lands at the foot of the mountain. Daylight is fading fast and soon there will be nothing to see for him except his own reflection in the windowpane. Still, he remains frozen in his spot, his eyes roaming over the landmarks below that were so foreign to him not long ago but that have since become the backdrop for some rather fundamental developments in his life.
There is no way to know for certain whether tonight isn't the last time that he gets to look at them. Tomorrow, he will set out for Ered Luin and even if there is no more Pale Orc that could hunt him down together with his minions, the number of threats that he and his men might run into on this journey makes it a risky undertaking at best. Goblins, stone giants, trolls, giant spiders... one more horrid than the other.
Fíli exhales slowly, his hand sliding into his pocket to touch the object hidden there. He clenches his fist, sharp metal edges digging into his skin. A few months ago, he would have jumped at the chance to escape from the mountain. Now his heart aches at the thought of leaving. But go he must – everything's been settled, everyone's prepared. There is nothing left for him to do now.
Aside from one thing, he thinks with a nervous flutter in his chest when a tentative knock sounds through his chambers.
He turns around at the same moment that the door opens and Sigrid slips through, closing it behind her with only the faintest of clicks.
"You made it," he greets her with a relieved smile. "I was beginning to think that you couldn't get away."
She grimaces as she moves closer. "It was rather more difficult than I had hoped," she admits. "But I wouldn't have let anything keep me from coming here tonight. It is bad enough that we barely saw each other these last few weeks."
Fíli grunts his agreement. The days since the goblin raid have been long and tedious, filled with meetings during which he and his council planned the journey to Ered Luin and organized life at Erebor during his absence. On most nights he would have wished for nothing more than to fall into Sigrid's embrace. Unfortunately, though, Bard has taken to some rather excessive vigilance in the weeks since the attack, the thought that the last time he turned his back his daughters were almost murdered in their beds making him very reluctant to let them out of his sight. It's understandable, really, but rather inconvenient if you are trying to conduct a secret relationship with one of said daughters.
"How did you manage to shake your father off?" Fíli asks curiously, leaning into Sigrid's embrace when her arms encircle his waist from behind. Her chin comes to rest on his shoulder and in their pale reflection in the window glass he can see a bashful grin touch her lips.
"By claiming to be plagued by certain female ailments and retiring early," she confesses. "That one always works with Da when I want to be left alone – he's much too scared of doing something wrong to venture anywhere near me until the morning at the very least."
Fíli grins. "I see. Finally something that the great slayer of dragons is afraid of."
Sigrid huffs in mild amusement. "Terrified, really. I just need to be careful not to use that particular excuse too often. For tonight, though, we ought to be safe."
"Hmm." Fíli hums contentedly as Sigrid nuzzles his neck, his hands coming up to cover hers. "And Tilda?"
"Still planning our wedding," Sigrid says with an exasperated sigh. "But she's kept her promise and hasn't said anything about us to either Da or Bain. She won't betray me."
"That's reassuring, then." Fíli has been rather busy these past two weeks, but that does not mean that he did not find the time to worry about an enraged Bard appearing on his doorstep. While it is true that he won't be anywhere near Dale come tomorrow, he would not put it past the Bowman to hunt down his sorry ass at the other end of Middle Earth if he found out about what he and his older daughter have been up to. And even if he didn't come after him, it would not be fair to leave Sigrid to deal with the fallout of their affair all by herself. So, yes, it's a relief to learn that their secret is safe for now, even if Fíli cannot claim to be particularly proud of himself for all this sneaking about.
Pushing away those thoughts for now, he turns in Sigrid's embrace and tilts his head back to look at her. She's done something with her hair, he thinks, that makes it even more shiny than usual and she has pulled the soft curls back into a bun at the nape of her neck. Her eyes are bright as he reaches up a hand to twirl a loose strand of hair around his finger, and she turns her head slightly, brushing her lips against the inside of his wrist in a featherlight touch. A pleasant shiver runs up his spine, and he leans up to bring his lips to hers.
The sweet taste of her makes it very difficult to maintain a semblance of self-control, but Fíli forces himself to keep their kiss rather chaste nevertheless. There is something he wants to say to her, and he's not sure whether he will still find the courage to do so later.
He steps back, trailing his hands down her arms to link his fingers with hers. His face feels warm – he has little experience with things like this and cannot quite shake the irrational fear that she might laugh at him.
"I have something for you," he finally manages to say, releasing one of her hands to slide his suddenly rather sweaty palm into his pocket. "I—I wish it were a ring," he stammers, hoping not to have raised false expectations on her part, "but we both know it cannot be. Not now, anyway. In its place, though, I want you to have this."
He holds out his hand, a delicate silver cuff resting on his palm. Except for a small green gem that has been set into it, its surface is perfectly smooth and has been polished to perfection. It is a simple and elegant piece without any unnecessary adornments. While he worked on it, Fíli felt assured that the simplicity of the bracelet would accentuate Sigrid's unaffected beauty much better than a more heavily decorated piece could. Now, he experiences a sudden bout of insecurity, hoping that she does not mistake his intention for thoughtlessness or poor taste.
He need not have worried. Sigrid's smile, when she reaches out to run her fingertip along the smooth edge of his gift, is unmistakably one of joy. "This is… it's perfect," she says. "May I?"
"Go on. It's not much, but it's yours."
Carefully, she picks up the piece of jewelry, turning it over in the fading light to examine it more closely. When her eyes fall upon the inside of the bracelet, a small crease forms between her brows as she tries to decipher what has been engraved there.
"I thought runes would be a bit safer lest anyone other than you should happen to see them," Fíli explains, feeling his cheeks heat up again.
Still smiling, Sigrid runs her thumb over the small characters concealed inside the bracelet. "What does it say?"
Fíli clears his throat, his eyes fixed on the bracelet as he answers. "Always and forever."
Alright, so maybe his voice really did get a little tight just then. Sigrid, however, has the decency not to call him out on it and clasps his hand with the one that is not holding the bracelet instead, squeezing tightly. "Thank you," she whispers and Fíli realizes with a start that she is close to tears.
Quickly, he reaches up and cups her jaw, pressing a rather breathless kiss to her lips. "No tears," he mutters. "Not yet." Saying goodbye will be excessively painful for them both, but for the moment all he wants is to forget about his duty and their shared heartache. He takes the silver cuff from Sigrid's hands once more and reaches for her left wrist. "Here," he says. "Allow me."
He slips the bracelet over her wrist and then slides it up her forearm until it disappears beneath the sleeve of her blouse. "Like this you will be able to wear it without anyone noticing and feeling compelled to ask questions."
She nods in understanding, reaching out with her right hand to trace the edges of his gift through the fabric of her blouse. "You put a lot of thought into this."
He flashes her a rather self-conscious grin and wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. "I did not sleep very well those past two weeks, so I've had a lot of time to turn things over in my head."
Resting her arms on his shoulders, Sigrid returns his grin, her eyes twinkling. "I hope you don't mind losing still a little more sleep tonight."
"Not one bit," he mumbles as he leans up to capture her lips with his.
She sighs against his mouth as their kiss deepens and Fíli reflexively tightens his embrace. He's never been all that good with words, but for once he feels confident that Sigrid is perfectly aware of just how deep his feelings for her run without him having to say anything. They stay like this for quite some time, darkness slowly enveloping them while they take their time caressing each other, pretending, for once, that there is no need for them to hurry.
When Sigrid breaks their kiss to trail her lips along his jaw, nipping at the sensitive skin just below his ear, he angles his head slightly to grant her better access while he runs his fingers up and down her back, tracing the slight curve of her spine. The only light illuminating his chambers now is issued by the fireplace which he has lit immediately after his return from dinner and shadows dance across the two of them in their spot by the window.
"Take me to bed," Sigrid murmurs into his ear.
Fíli chuckles lightly. "I had no plans to stand here all night, don't worry."
She laughs quietly at that before pressing another kiss to his neck. "That is not what I meant." Her voice has grown huskier and Fíli is quite certain that he would find a blush creeping across her cheeks if he looked. "Take me to bed," she says again, more insistent now.
He loosens his embrace and pulls back, his eyes darting to hers. When the meaning of her words registers with him, he barely manages to suppress a shiver, the thrill of what she is asking for sending his blood boiling despite himself.
He briefly closes his eyes, fighting for his composure. "Haven't we been over this already?"
"I asked. You said no. I'm not sure that counts."
When Fíli opens his eyes, Sigrid has stepped closer once more, her own eyes filled with a dangerous sort of resolution. He swallows audibly but does not dare to move away as she lowers her lips to his, molding her body to his with her arms wrapped around his neck.
"You are making this very hard," he gets out once they break apart, both more than a little breathless.
She has the nerve to smirk, pressing even closer to him. "I can feel that."
"Temptress," he growls before devouring her mouth with his once again. They kiss with abandon and Fíli feels himself slipping, his grasp onto his self-control weakening rapidly. Somehow, though, he manages to yank himself back from the brink and he breaks their kiss, stepping back to put as much distance between them as he can without letting her out of his embrace.
"We can't," he says mournfully. "It's—it wouldn't be right."
In blatant disregard of his attempt at creating a modicum of distance between them, Sigrid follows his backward movement. "So you've told me already, on that first night. Wouldn't you agree, though, that since then things have changed rather dramatically?"
"I—yes—maybe—" Fíli stammers, struggling to form a coherent thought in the face of her rather fierce determination to reduce him to a nervous wreck. He casts his eyes down and takes a fortifying breath. "It does not matter, though, does it? It is too great a risk. What if—what if there are consequences? I will not leave you behind to face something like that all by yourself."
She puts her palms to his face then, angling it upwards to make him look at her. "You are not wrong to think like that and I am certainly not laughing at you for it. However, I am confident enough in my knowledge of both the healing arts and midwifery to say that the likelihood of what you suggest happening today is all but nonexistent." When he looks doubtful still, she adds, "Or would you like me to fetch Óin to confirm that for you?"
A bark of laughter erupts from his lips at that particular thought. "Mahal, no, he would probably use the opportunity to launch into some sort of lecture on things I most definitely do not wish to discuss with him." He resumes a more serious expression. "I do trust your proficiency, but still..."
He trails off, holding himself rigidly when Sigrid leans down to press the ghost of a kiss against the corner of his mouth. "Please," she whispers. "Neither of us can know what the future holds in store for us. If—" her voice hitches a little here, but she shakes her head and continues, "—if I cannot have anything at all, let me at least have this."
Of all the things she could have said, this is the one that makes it impossible for Fíli to deny her anything, and she probably knows it. And so, when her mouth finds his again, he does not resist, parting his lips to allow her to explore him with her tongue and doing the same to her.
"Fine," he sighs when they break apart but remain pressed up against one another, their foreheads touching. "If we're going to do this, though, we are going to do it right."
And with that he bends down to sneak an arm around the back of her knees, hoisting her up into his arms and proceeding to carry her towards his bed. Sigrid giggles. "And what, pray tell, constitutes 'right' in this particular context?"
He deposits her on the edge of his mattress and kneels to begin unlacing her boots, tugging them off her feet. "'Right' means not doing things by half measure. And not in a hurry. 'Right' means that I am not letting you out of this bed before I have reduced you to the quivering mess that you are working so relentlessly on turning me into."
That last part is said with a teasing wink, but it does not escape Fíli's notice that Sigrid's eyes widen momentarily at his threat, her breath hitching with what can only be excitement. "Alright then," she says rather meekly, for once not teasing him in return.
With a small smirk playing around his lips, Fíli proceeds to pull down her stockings, taking his time while he skims the freshly exposed skin with his fingertips. He finishes his task by pressing a soft kiss to the inside of each knee, relishing in the small gasp which escapes Sigrid's lips at the action. Pushing himself off the ground, he crawls onto the bed beside her, toeing off his own boots in the process. He comes to kneel behind her, coaxing her to lean against him with a hand on her shoulder. With his other hand he reaches around her body and slowly begins to unfasten the buttons on her waistcoat, one by one. By the time she shrugs out of the sleeveless garment, he has begun to caress the side of her neck with his lips, nipping and licking at her delicate skin, and her head is resting against his collarbone, most of her weight now supported by him.
Her blouse is next, and even though he has both seen and touched the parts of her body which it conceals, Fíli's hands tremble ever so slightly as he sets to work on the small buttons. Lifting his hands to her shoulders when he's done, he pushes the blouse down her arms, following at least part of its progress with a series of kisses. As the blouse joins their boots and her waistcoat on the floor, Sigrid shifts on the mattress, turning sideways so that she can look at him.
"I fell at a bit of a disadvantage here," she says, reaching up to run a finger along the neckline of his shirt.
"My eyes do not perceive anything even remotely disadvantageous," Fíli remarks, but loses no time to follow up on her unspoken request, reaching up to tug the tunic over his head without bothering with the lacings. "Better?"
"Hmm," Sigrid hums distractedly, reaching out to run her palm over his bared chest. Her hand travels upward, her fingers weaving into his hair, toying with one of the beads fastened into it. Her eyes flit to his. "May I?" she asks, rolling the trinket between her fingertips.
"You will find that there are few requests I can deny you when you are sitting in front of me like this." He gestures towards her bare upper body and she blushes but makes no attempt to hide herself from him. Instead, she turns around more fully, lifting both hands to work on his hair.
One by one she undoes his braids, running her fingers through the loose strands to smoothen them out. At first, he finds himself rather distracted by her nakedness, but eventually he closes his eyes, focusing solely on the sensation of her fingers on his scalp, her actions intimate in ways which he cannot put into words.
When she is done, she leans in to kiss him, rousing him from his trancelike state. He opens his eyes to find her looking at him with a loving smile. "It just occurred to me that the last time I have seen you like this, with your hair all undone and no coats and furs and leather to hide behind, was on the day we first met."
He chuckles. "Well, I was wearing a shirt then. Also, I most fervently hope that I smell better today than I did after climbing out of your toilet."
She laughs and leans closer to place a kiss against the side of his jaw, inhaling deeply. "You most certainly do," she whispers, her breath against his skin making him shiver.
Unable to restrain himself any longer, he places his hands on her bare waist, pulling her into his lap. She does not resist, her knees coming to rest on either side of his hips. His insistence on taking things slow has kept his own excitement somewhat under control so far, but now the feeling of having her sit astride him, her firm, round breasts pressed against the planes of his chest, sends a surge of want through him that makes it very difficult to adhere to his own rules.
Sigrid appears to experience a similar predicament, judging by the way she gasps and pushes down against him, seeking to create what little friction is possible with her bunched up skirts and his trousers still in the way. Fíli's head falls forward, his responding moan muffled against her shoulder.
"Later," he murmurs, deciding that a change in his course of action is in order if he wants to keep his earlier promise and stop them from rushing into this.
Raising himself off the mattress, he guides Sigrid onto her back, leaning over her to run his hands across her upper body, exploring, caressing. He pauses when he reaches the waistband of her skirt. During all their encounters she has always had some items of her (or, once, his) clothing covering her, so this will be yet another line he will cross today. And even though it causes his mouth to go rather dry all of a sudden, he tells himself that it ought not matter, that what he has already agreed to do will require a much, much greater deal of intimacy.
In the end, Sigrid takes that particular decision out of his hands by rather pointedly lifting her hips and arching an impatient eyebrow at him. He hides his amused smirk by lowering his lips to her neck, trailing a series of kisses down her body while he reaches around her waist to undo the fastenings on her skirt and proceeds to hook his thumb into the waistband, sliding both skirt and underskirt over her narrow waist and down her long legs.
As the garment falls to the floor in a rustle of fabric, Fíli takes a moment to appreciate the view before him. Kneeling between Sigrid's legs, he takes her hands in his when she reflexively raises them to cover herself. "Don't," he tells her, surprised at the rasp in his voice. "I want to see you. So that I have something to keep me warm during those long, lonely nights ahead of me."
She bites her lip in a bout of self-consciousness, but after a second or two she relaxes under his stare, entwining her fingers with his. "You'll have to do me that same favor, then."
He smiles while he leans forward, raising one of her hands above her head to pin it to the mattress as he lowers himself onto her, careful not to crush her beneath him. His hair, now completely loose and probably in a bit of a wild state, brushes against her bare skin and she shudders, her eyelids fluttering closed. "In a moment," he murmurs into her ear.
Releasing her other hand, he runs his fingers up her body, starting at her thigh, skimming over her hip and across her stomach until he is able to cup one of her breasts in his palm. A slight squeeze earns him a sharp gasp and when Sigrid arches her back off his bed, pressing her naked body against him more firmly, he, too, cannot suppress a rather brittle groan.
"Ah, you have no idea what you are doing to me," he mutters against the side of her neck before attacking the soft skin there with his lips and teeth.
"Show me, then," she demands, squirming beneath him until she succeeds at wrapping one leg around his hips, urging him to press himself against her.
"Oh, I will, don't worry."
And with that he lowers his head to take one of her already hardened nipples into his mouth and sucking hard. She cries out, her hands flying to his shoulders to steady herself.
"Do that again," she commands rather breathlessly, and he readily complies with her request, repeating his action from before and adding a flick of his tongue to it. "If that is what you meant by 'quivering mess', then fine, you win," she gasps, one of her hands fisting in his hair.
Fìli chuckles, the tickle of his breath causing goosebumps to rise on her flesh. "Oh no. We're not quite there yet."
He shifts his weight so that he is now lying only partly on top of her and runs a hand up and down the inside of her thigh a couple of times, allowing her a few moments to guess at his intention. Finally sliding his hand between her legs, he is somehow not surprised to find her slick with her need for him, her flesh hot and swollen beneath his fingers.
Her hips buck up against his hand as he applies more pressure, and he realizes that it would not take much more for him to send her over the edge. While the thought that he has this effect on her is very satisfying, he does have something else in mind for her still. Giving into a temptation he has denied himself in their previous encounters, Fíli carefully pushes a finger inside her. She hisses sharply at the intrusion, but a quick glance at the face assures him that the sound is not provoked by pain. Her eyes are still closed, her expression one of utter rapture.
Growing a little bolder, Fíli slowly eases a second finger into her, giving a small thrust. Sigrid's hands claw at his shoulders as she angles her hips to meet the movement of his hand. Encouraged and more than a little aroused by her reaction, Fíli continues pumping in and out of her, his own breathing becoming rather ragged as she writhes beneath him, her inner muscles clenching around his fingers erratically.
He can feel the tension building inside her even before her fingernails dig into shoulders as she cries out one more time. She comes undone in his arms and he leans up to swallow her soft moans with a kiss, continuing to stroke her with his fingers and spreading her own juices over her swollen flesh while the waves of her pleasure slowly ebb away.
It takes her a few moments, but then she is kissing him back, pulling him close with a sigh against his lips. Her whole body seems flushed and warm beneath his and Fíli figures that he won't get her into a more relaxed state than this.
Breaking their kiss, he raises himself on his arms so that he may look at her. "This will hurt, I fear. There is nothing that I can do about that."
She reaches up and smoothes his hair back from his face, as if he is the one that needs comforting and not her. "I'm not afraid."
He nods. There is nothing he can say to argue with that, and the quiet certainty of her voice leaves him with no doubt that she is telling the truth. And either way – it is not as if he actually wants to discourage her from what they are about to do.
Her hands have left his face and are traveling down his back, reaching the waistband of his trousers at the same moment that he undoes the buttons at their front. He shifts his weight onto his knees and she helps him push the garment over his hips and down his legs, eliciting a slight gasp from him as the coarse material brushes against his by now almost painful arousal. With his capacity for coherent thought steadily deteriorating, it takes him a moment to fully divest himself of the trousers and he grunts in embarrassed frustration, but then he's kneeling between his love's legs again without the annoying obstacle of clothing to separate them.
His heart is pounding in his chest as he crawls over her, conscious of every inch of skin where their bodies touch, even the smallest contact sending little bolts of lightning through his veins. He kisses her, as deeply and unhurriedly as he can manage when his breath is threatening to forsake him. Sigrid parts her legs for him, just a little, and then he's close, so maddeningly close to completing what they began several weeks ago, in this very room.
Unable to deny both her and himself what they have both wanted for so long, he reaches down between their bodies and, angling his hips forward, guides himself into her, biting his lip with his effort to take things slow.
Fully immersed in her delicious warmth, he stills, allowing her to get used to the feeling of having him inside her. Lifting his head, he finds her eyes closed, a light furrow between her brows the only indication that she is experiencing any discomfort. Her silence worries him, slightly.
He brushes a lock of hair from her face. "Are you alright?"
She opens her eyes and it takes her a moment to focus, but when she does, she gives him a small smile. "Yes," she breathes. "Yes, I believe I am."
He leans down to kiss her, swallowing her low moan when he pulls back, only a tiny bit, and then gives a small thrust, careful not to use too much force. He does it again, and again, until he is sure that the noises she is making against his lips are not born of pain, but of pleasure. His arms are shaking by that time, the effort of keeping a firm lid on his mounting desire taking its toll.
Sigrid breaks their kiss then. "I really am fine," she assures him. "Don't hold back… Please."
She accompanies her words by raising her legs to wrap around his waist, angling her hips upward to meet his next thrust. The groan that issues from somewhere deep inside his throat at this encouragement startles Fíli, but by now he is too far gone to feel embarrassed. Instead, he finally permits himself to fall into a more natural rhythm, driving himself into Sigrid's body more forcefully than before.
Warmth spreads through his limbs, and as a burning heat coils somewhere below his navel, stars erupt in his vision. He closes his eyes, desperate to prolong this wonderful, wonderful thing between them even as every inch of his body begs for some sort of release, for a relief of the pressure building within him.
He uses what little strength he has left to push himself up on his arms so that he may look at Sigrid's face. Her skin is damp with sweat, as is his, and she is biting her lower lip with enough force to dent the skin. He cannot take his eyes off her. He changes his rhythm again, slowing and deepening his thrusts. Sigrid's eyes, that had been closed, fly open as he hits what must be a very sensitive spot indeed.
"Oh—oh, yes, that's just—that's just—"
She never gets to finish her sentence, her rather forceful release catching both her and Fíli by surprise and she cries out helplessly, her nails digging into his upper arms. Fíli manages one more thrust and then his world tilts as he spills himself into her with a roar followed by hoarse whispers of her name.
When he comes to his senses once more, his arms have given out and he is lying on top of Sigrid, their racing hearts conducting a dance of their own where their chests are pressed together. He nuzzles her neck, incapable of a more conscious effort such as kissing her yet.
Once he becomes more aware of his surroundings he shifts, pulling out of her so that he may lie on his side next to her rather than on top of her. She follows his movement, rolling over to bury her face against him.
"I cannot believe you made me wait so long for this," she chides, but he can hear the happy smile in her voice.
"It was the prudent thing to do," he reminds her, slipping an arm underneath her shoulder so that he can pull her against him more firmly.
Her small huff tickles the skin at the base of his throat. "Please allow me to discourage you from exercising too much prudence in the future. When it comes to me, at the very least."
He sniffs with feigned affront. "It is generally considered a valuable trait in a king."
"Well, then I am glad you were able to put your rigid principles to rest for at least a little while, your majesty." She pulls back, angling her head so that he can see her cheeky grin.
He chuckles. "So am I." He kisses her then, deeply and without hurry.
After a few moments, Sigrid breaks their kiss with a happy sigh and Fíli rolls onto his back, pulling her with him so that her head comes to rest on his shoulder. Unsurprisingly, her hair has come quite undone during their most recent activities, and he enjoys toying with the silky strands, wrapping them around his fingers again and again while he listens to the sound of her breathing. It gets cold, after a while, the fire in his hearth having mostly died down and the layer of sweat covering both their skins not doing much to increase their comfort. Reluctantly Fíli sits up, helping them both to wriggle under the furs and blankets covering his bed.
When he lies back down, Sigrid is on her side, her face pillowed on the crook of her arm. He mirrors her position, scooting down on his mattress so that they are almost lying nose to nose in the cocoon of warmth created by the covers. They spend some time just drinking in the sight of each other, smiling the sort of happy smiles only known to two souls who happen to have found one another despite adverse circumstances.
Eventually, though, Fíli cannot hold the shadows in his mind at bay and the more sinister aspects of their meeting – the last, for many days – begin to weigh on his heart once more.
"What's wrong?" Sigrid asks him before he manages so much as a frown.
"I'm terrified," he admits, resisting the urge to turn onto his back and stare at the ceiling rather than her concerned face. "Terrified of the responsibility for the lives of those I'm bringing with me on this journey; terrified of what awaits me at its end. Most of all, I'm terrified of leaving you."
She scoots even closer on the mattress, bringing up a hand to cup his cheek in her palm. "I am not sure what to say regarding those first two, except that I have unconditional faith in both you and your ability to lead. Those who have failed to see that as of yet will come to do so soon. And as for me... I have spent my years leading a very dreary life indeed, waiting desperately for something to change, for some revelation as to what I was supposed to do with myself. Until the day when my father brought thirteen Dwarves and a Hobbit into our home." She shifts a little closer still, wrapping her hand around his where it rests on the mattress between them. "I have waited for so long, I think I can manage to wait for a little longer still now that I know what path I want to take and who I am going to walk it with. Two months may seem a long time now, yes. But I can promise you that when your return you will find me the same as I am now. Yours, unconditionally."
"If I return," he corrects her gloomily, unable yet to yield to the warmth that her words have instilled in his chest.
Her fingers absently trace the raised flesh of the scar Azog has given him. "You will," she insists, but Fíli can hear the underlying fear in her voice. She sighs, appearing to give herself a little shake and lifts her head off his chest to smile at him. "You are Fíli the Deathless, after all."
He rolls his eyes. "You've heard that one then." Despite his exasperation at being reminded of the silly nickname, a small smile of his own tugs at the corners of his mouth. "I shall try my best to live up to it."
"You had better," Sigrid murmurs sleepily, snuggling up against him once more. Fíli hugs her close, his fingers tracing random patterns on her bare skin beneath the covers. As her breathing evens out, he remains completely still, resolved to let her get some rest. The night ahead of them is young still and he has no intention of wasting it on sleep. However, he reflects with a wicked grin, gathering their strength for what they might get up to latter shan't hurt. And so he sinks deeper into his love's embrace, determined not to let the thought that this will be the last time he gets to do so for a long time spoil this wonderful night.