Epilogue
Three hundred and sixty-five days since the battle fought at the foot of the Lonely Mountain. One whole year. For more than half of it, Fíli thought his brother dead, lost to the senseless violence of war. The other half, he has spent rebuilding his relationship with Kíli and repairing the rift caused by Kíli's impulsive actions.
Today he receives a raven from Mirkwood. Leaning with his shoulder against the window frame, he uses what is left of the fading daylight to read the letter written in his brother's familiar, slightly uneven handwriting. Fíli grins to himself as he peruses Kíli's message, satisfied that his little scheme has played out as he hoped it would.
'Brother mine,' Kíli writes, 'you've done it, then, knocked me out of my chair with the contents of your last letter. Aside from a sore backside, I now have my bruised pride to contend with, as Tauriel won't cease making fun of me for this little mishap of mine. You couldn't have said something when we last saw each other, a few weeks ago, could you? Then again, I suppose I do deserve some sort of retribution for getting married alone and in secret and to an Elf, no less. Still, to receive an invitation to your wedding when I was merely expecting an ordinary letter was a bit of a shock. But I believe that was what you were aiming at, am I right?
'So – the Bowman's daughter. I ought to be surprised, probably, but find that I am not, not entirely, no. My memory of those days at Lake-town is a bit hazy due to circumstances which I need not remind you of and those moments during which my head was not addled by fever, I spent with my attention mostly focused on another female – yes, you, Tauriel, and now stop reading over my shoulder, it distracts me and makes me misspell words all the time.
'Anyway, from what I do remember of your young bride, I should say that you are very well suited. It does surprise me that Bard has let you live long enough to propose and plan a marriage, but I am sure that will be a tale for another time.
'Of course we'll come to your wedding, I wouldn't miss that for the world. And you're right, of course, it is time that I finally showed my – what did you call it? – my 'cowardly arse' at Erebor. Until that happens, please give my best to Mum and my sincerest congratulations to Sigrid. I couldn't be any happier for you both. Your reckless idiot of a brother, Kíli.'
With the letter still in hand, Fili lifts his gaze to the shadows outside that are growing longer by the minute, his eyes settling on the black mass of trees filling a good portion of the lands between Erebor and the Misty Mountains. It's only been a few weeks since he met Kíli at the edge of Mirkwood, but already he feels a familiar yearning stir in his chest after reading his brother's teasing, heartfelt words. It won't be so long until their next meeting, but still, having to wait for those instances instead of simply being able to turn around and seek out his brother like he used to do for most of his life will take some getting used to.
Behind him, his door opens and closes in quick succession and Fíli sighs contentedly when a pair of arms sneaks around his midsection and he leans back into Sigrid's embrace. "I thought you might not come today."
She turns her head to press a gentle kiss to the side of his neck, tickling him with her warm breath when she speaks. "I'm afraid I cannot stay long. I persuaded Óin to let me go a few minutes early, but Da has taken great pains to remind me that he expects me home in time for dinner."
Fíli covers her hands with his. "I'll take whatever I can get."
As it turns out, conducting a relationship in secret, while nerve-wrecking at times, also has its advantages. Since their engagement has become official, meetings like the ones they used to have before Fíli's journey to Ered Luin have become all but impossible. Now that Bard knows what to look for, Sigrid's usual strategies have been rendered ineffective with regard to securing longer intervals of privacy for her and Fíli. With Thad and Flad having elected to stay at the Blue Mountains for a year to recover from the shock that Thad's almost-death has given them, their most enthusiastic accomplices are now unavailable to them, making any previously arranged meetings very hard to come by. As a consequence, they have had to make do with stolen moments such as this one right now.
On the whole, though, the announcement that the King under the Mountain will wed no Dwarf woman, but a daughter of Men, has caused much less of a spectacle than Fíli both feared and expected. To those closest to him, his true feelings had evidently been apparent for a long time and he felt rather foolish when he observed the complete lack of shock in his brethren's reactions to the disclosure of his intentions. Imagine his bewilderment as he watched Balin grudgingly hand over a small stack of coins to a gleeful Dwalin.
"Really? You, of all people?" Fíli exclaimed and Balin at least had the decency to look a little guilty.
Bombur then chose that particular moment to start awake from a little mid-morning nap with a loud grunt and a frantic look around. "What's for dinner?" he asked, thereby effectively ending the whole conversation.
So, yes. That was that over and done with. Of course there were those, too, who were not overly enthusiastic about Fíli's choice and he suspects that the voices questioning the unconventional match made by their king will never be entirely silenced. He will never hesitate to fight for his love, to stand up against the prejudices he keeps having thrust towards him, but sometimes he cannot help but think that the next person to lament a future in which the throne is occupied by a king only half Dwarven, will wind up with a broken nose.
As frustrating as the last months have been at times, though, Fíli knows that it will be worth it in the end. In a few weeks, he will make Sigrid his wife and they will have all the time in the world to make up for those months of hurried exchanges, longing looks and tiresome discussions.
And until then... well, he will just have to make do with what is given to him. Turning around in Sigrid's embrace, he tilts his head back, his eyes traveling over the features he has come to know so well and of which he can yet never seem to get enough. Not for the first time he marvels at how Sigrid has changed since that first day, back at Lake-town. It may not be apparent to a casual observer, for she still dresses in the same modest, practical clothes as when they met, with the exception of the occasional speck of color in the form of a shawl or one of the few pieces of dainty jewellery Fíli has managed to persuade her to accept since their official engagement. If one were to take Tilda's word at face value (which, in itself, is a bit of a risky undertaking), Sigrid's wedding dress will be a wholly different matter, a robe truly befitting a queen. But even if that turns out to be case in the end, Fíli will always picture his bride like this – unadorned, and yet more beautiful than the most perfect of gemstones, cut to perfection, but, eventually, boring to look at.
No, the changes which he has observed in his love over time are of a different nature. The girl he met a little over a year ago, she's not gone, no – he can still see her looking back at him whenever he gets lost in Sigrid's expressive hazel eyes. But she has blossomed into a young woman now who has found her place in life, a woman who has found her calling, who has found love (even if in the unlikeliest of places) and who is now able to look back at the world with faith in herself and her abilities. She was always strong, his Sigrid, stronger than anyone gave her credit for, but she's even stronger now and on many days Fíli feels humbled by her easy acceptance, her unwavering faith in him, when he lays his many burdens down at her feet at the end of a long day and she receives him in her embrace not as the king is expected to be, but as the Dwarf he aspires to be.
And now she's smiling down at him, she who has proved to be his anchor during one of his life's worst tempests, the cornerstone of his life when everything had gone into disarray, and he feels his heart expand in his chest. Things are looking much more ordered now, and, by some miracle, what he had thought beyond his grasp forever has been returned to him. Still, he will neither forget those darker days, nor the brightness with which her light shone for him then. They may be only at the beginning of their shared journey, but he already knows that no matter where their paths may lead them, they will walk them together with steady feet and firm hearts.
The shadow of a frown passes over Sigrid's face as she tries to grasp at the thoughts flitting though his mind in those moments, catching some, but not all of them. "Are you quite alright?"
His eyes stray from her face, and he turns his head to look over his shoulder. Outside his window darkness has fallen almost completely now, and the vague shapes of the lands below are overlaid by the reflections of Sigrid and himself in the window glass. And for a moment it is as if he can see Kíli standing right there, beside them, looking back at him with a knowing smile stretching his lips. As their eyes meet, his vision of Kíli inclines his head in a nod, his gaze not leaving that of his brother. When Fíli turns back around to look at Sigrid, he, too, is smiling.
"Yes," he says, taking her hand and raising it to his mouth, his lips brushing the delicate ring he put on her finger a few weeks after his return from Ered Luin. "Yes. All is well."
And he's never been more sincere about that in his whole life.
The End.
A/N: That's it! Thank you for undertaking this journey with me and sticking with it to the end. When I started writing this I thought it would be a 20k story, 30k at the most, and look what we've ended up with. Exploring those characters has been great fun and a good way for me to distract myself from my obsession with Kíli and Tauriel. Speaking of which, I'm currently working on a one-shot set five years after The Gift. So if you're still aboard that ship, I'm right there with you and hope to be posting something soon!