They were not, on first arrival, openly welcomed into the city. Fili could not blame the Men of Dale for being suspicious of them. Dragon fire had been brought upon the Lake the night the Company had disturbed the reclusive beast; the battle among their peoples and two others –needless death had rained down upon the poor Men of Laketown, then Dale, where they dwelt and lived peacefully again. The few years since the Mountain was reclaimed would not mend so readily of its own volition –their lives had been directly burdened by the Company's meddling and former-King Thorin's abhorrence to those he had himself bartered for transport and weapons. Fili would now carry the responsibility of his uncle's kingdom and decisions made then that were not the young prince's to question. He would undo the ill will bred by greed if it was not too late, their impressions carved in the bloodied stone walls of the city.
The Golden Prince hopped down from the spirited Daisy and stood at the slope reaching the city wall. Two weary men in rusted helmets watched him and those who rode and stood just behind. One proclaimed that on such a day of leisure they let death take them before they allowed it t be brought again upon their women, their children, their elderly.
"I've come not for war –but for peace," the dwarf lord called up to them, arms out to his side to show that even he –as often adorned with blades and axes as he liked— was entirely unarmed, as was the lot of his companions. "We've come with gifts: gold and precious gems hewn from the rock of our city to present to the people of yours. We wish to pay tribute to your people and congratulate the sturdiness they've shown in the face of darkness. Will you turn us away when we ask nothing but entrance and offer such as is deserving of the women, the children, the elders and the brave men who tasted bitter victory over fire and war?"
The guards glanced between each other and debated in hushed tones; it seemed the man on the right at last won out, and they retreated back behind the wall. Fili waited anxiously; had they indeed turned them aside? Was a distrust of the Erebor Dwarves sewn so unyielding into their hearts? He watched another moment, breath held tight in his chest, ignoring the murmuring behind him that spoke of their own doubts –"They mean to return with arrows and strike us down while we are off our guard!"
"Don't make fools of yourselves!" Kili shut down the nonsense and awaited his brother's judgment of the situation. "They do not wish death upon us; Men are not quite so resentful."
"And what do you know of Men?" the dwarf –at least two hundred years old— demanded with a laugh of the young spare prince, only just eighty years himself.
Kili dismounted Pepper and moved to the old dwarf's pony, taking the reins and stroking its mane with a firm hand much more gentle than the gaze he struck into the suddenly demure elderly brute. "I know that their Lord Bard is a reasonable and generous man, with thoughts of the safety of his people above his own glory, and sympathy for others who mean him no harm. To launch an attack on us would be to bring war upon his already war-grieved people –can you tell me, would he risk it?"
There was not a word to be said in protest, and the prince returned to Pepper to feed her some oats.
Tauriel approached Fili and stood silently beside him, watching the same crest of the wall with no better angle granted by her superior height. She turned only briefly behind to her soon-husband; he would not be coming to join them. "What do you make of it, my lord?" she asked coolly. The elf was briefly made to think of the king she had called such for so many centuries; he who had reluctantly forgiven her after the battle and suffered to negotiate with her, as she'd come on behalf of the Dwarves, with whom he would much less willingly deal.
Fili sighed, hope draining the longer and longer they were left in anticipation. "I make nothing of it," he admitted softly, for her ears only. "If we are not welcomed now, under such amiable conditions, I fear for the future of relations with Dale."
"Time will heal any resentment they may carry." Tauriel knew from many hundreds of years the effects of time on a cyclic world. She convinced herself that awful thoughts of the dwarves would die out in a winter frost at the end of this life of men, and new thoughts, new relations would bloom. It may not be in this King's life, she feared; but if she remained in the Mountain halls in that day, she would be blessed to see it through, and make known the Golden Prince, Golden King, who had first sought such peace following so much despair.
Time may heal unobstructed, the royal dwarf conceded. If the time of the dragon and greedy prideful war could be never spoken of again, then indeed the mistrust may die out. But stories of "the wickedness of the Dwarves" would be passed to the next generation inside the city walls in front of which they still stood waiting; and the next generation and the next, every revival straying farther from the truth and more into cruel exaggeration, ripping open a deep and festering wound.
Fili found it, in that moment, difficult not to blame Thorin –whom he so highly regarded these eighty-five years— for what would plague them all in years and centuries to come.
"Tauriel –I must admit, your intelligent optimism for the situation eases the anxiety, gives me courage to stand here begging at their gate." These words, too, were only for the delegate who met them with a small smile. He had much already welcomed her as an elf-sister, and awaited the union longer and as eagerly as renewed relations with the Men of the city. But, in contrast to his sort of easing and steadiness her assurance stirred in him, he was yet afraid; he confided in her his fear of tales to be told to the children of the city, such that he would not permit be told to dwarflings of Erebor; even in victory he would not have death made glorious.
Tauriel let out a small breath. "We would not wish you such unrest, my lord. I have been among them—" (Tauriel had been allowed inside the city more than once before between the Mountain and Mirkwood) "and their distrust is not so much disdain as wariness –and we cannot blame them; but I have faith they will see how your nature contrasts their perception of the Dwarves, and will allow us to join their celebration."
The Prince nodded and, with little left to say without retreading old arguments, a silence settled between them; in short time, Tauriel stepped back to join her lover and his pony.
Chances grew dim as the sky took on a rosy hue in the wintry sky. It had been two hours or so since their arrival; everyone had dismounted; many of the dwarves among them were sat around chatting idly and roasting sausages. The odd-in-love couple stood off to the side a while, taking long and mutual glances at the blond prince who stood where he had this long and weary wait. The younger prince soon excused himself to speak with his older brother; insisted he take a seat that Fili declined, and stood watching the wall with him.
"Dull, isn't it?" he hummed, attempting to crack through his elder sibling's tired expression; Fili granted him a small smirk for his efforts. "If you wish –we may send them back." He spoke quietly so as not to rouse the others. "I can tell this has come to mean a lot to you. If you will stay and wait into night, then I will remain as well; but Lord Bard might be more willing to allow two dwarves he's known before into the city than six additional strangers."
Fili took a weighted breath and nodded. "You're all dismissed!" he called behind them, though his head faced ever straight forward. There was murmuring at his command, and he heard them slowly come to smother the fire and take up their mounts. Not another word was said to the future King as they got the ponies trotting back toward the looming mountain. Fili finally turned when they were gone; Kili, of course, remained, along with Tauriel, who stood firmly holding the reins each of Pepper and Daisy. He gave them a warm smile and a nod of his head, and as the sun fell below the horizon behind the city, they continued to wait.