Curled on the chair at the right of the bed, Fíli was desperately trying to get some sleep. It proved impossible, his restlessness preventing him from even closing his eyes. Or was it the close proximity of his new wife? As much as he tried, he could not take away his gaze from her sleeping form. Wisps of golden brown hair framed her smooth face resting peacefully on the pillow. She had fallen asleep instantly, probably too drunk to stay awake any longer than necessary. It was just as well.

He turned, trying to find a better position under his thick blanket lined with fur. The chair was far from comfortable but he had slept in worse places. That was not the reason for his unrest. He was not sure what was going on. He had not been prepared for this. But the feeling would not go away. It would not leave him alone. When Sigrid had needed help with her dress, he should have called his mother. But how was he to know? Dis was practically the only female he had ever been alone with.

He had never expected such a reaction, but there was no denying the wave of heat that had submerged him as he had unfastened Sigrid's dress. The view of her skin, from the nape of her neck where her hair curled just a little to her shoulder-blades, just above the hem of her shift, had left him breathless. Creamy white, it had shone like polished silver in the firelight. It had seemed so soft. So smooth. He had not been able to prevent his fingers from grazing her but it seemed she had not felt it, drunk as she was. She had just swayed on her feet until the whole dress was at her feet.

His hands were used to hard surfaces, like metal or stone. Both so cold. They only came to life after you had shaped them, worked them. But Sigrid was warm. Warm and alive. He had felt a knot in his stomach at the thought of her almost naked body close to his in the bed. What was happening? He did not understand. She unsettled him in a way he did not comprehend. Was it attraction? Desire? Those words were unknown to him, as well as the feelings they conveyed. He did not even find her beautiful, with her smooth face and shy manners. So what was it?

He sighed, turning once more, trying to conjure up other thoughts. But no matter what he did, the vision of her skin haunted his mind. He could not help but ask himself how she would have felt under his fingers. How sweet it would have been to make love to her. But what did he know of those things? The idea of bedding her had repulsed him at first. He was not so sure now. Still, he had decided he would not try anything unless she wanted it. And she had made it very clear she did not. He had seen how frightful she had been. How tense. She had not spoken a word during the whole feast. And she had been desperate enough to drink herself senseless. It hurt him to think he disgusted her that way, but what did he expect? Just a few hours before, he had felt the same about her.

The look of relief on her face as he had told her he would leave her alone had been unmistakable. What else could he have done? Taking advantage of her under these circumstances would have been the same as rape, even with his own wife. But what about the consequences? There was no way he could lie about bedding her. Not only was it unthinkable, but he was sure Thorin would know he was not truthful if he tried. And if Thorin did not, Dis would. His mother always knew his feelings even before he could put words on them. But how could he have done otherwise? Thorin clearly had not thought this through before coming up with the idea of an arranged marriage. It was all very well to have sex when both parties were consenting, but this?

Would things change as they got to know each other? He closed his eyes, trying not to think about it. Trying not to think about her. He focused on the sound of her breathing, regular and sound. Maybe that would lull him to sleep.

He woke up all of sudden. Something was not right. The room was too clear, too bright. The sun was in his eye, almost blinding him. What in Mahal's name? Then he remembered. He had made openings on purpose, so Sigrid would not be too disorientated. He knew how dark dwarves' halls could be at night, when all the oil lamps had died out.

Sigrid! His gaze fell on the empty bed. Where was she? He got up in a hurry and opened the door to the main room. Everybody had left, but the remnants of the feast were still on the tables and on the floor.

There she was, her hair tied in a knot, white apron on her brown and blue dress. Busy cleaning all the mess. He had no idea how long she had been at it, but she was certainly more than efficient, judging by the clean half of the room.

"Sigrid" he called from upstairs and she started, looking up at him in surprise. "Did you do this on your own?"

"Why, yes. Who else?" she answered. "Are you planning to help or will you stand there watching?"

He chuckled. She had humour. He liked that. He ran down the stairs and grabbed several mugs of ale. He threw them in the big washbasin that she had put in the middle of the room and rolled his sleeves before plunging his hands in the water.

"Oh" she said, stopping altogether what she was doing. "I was only jesting. I did not mean-"

"You did not mean what?" he asked. "Did you think we dwarves do not know how to clean the dishes?"

He should not have said that, he thought as her face suddenly dropped. She looked mortified.

"No" she finally replied. "It's just that- well, you're a Prince-"

"Tell that to my mother" he said with a wink, but she was still standing there, embarrassed.

"How did you sleep?" he inquired, hoping that changing the topic would bring back her spirits.

"Very well, thank you" she replied. "I did not expect to awake with the light of day. My thanks for thinking of that" she continued, pointing at the several windows he had carved in the thick stone walls.

"Of course" he said, smiling at her.

She smiled back, but again it felt a bit contrived. That was not going well, he thought as he helped her cleaning the rest of the room. Even now, he could see tiny wisps of hair curling on the nape of her neck and he remembered her standing in only her shift. What could he do to please her? Did he only want to? Life was far less complicated when no woman was involved.

As soon as they were done, he took his leave, pretexting some work that could not be delayed. In truth, he had nothing planned, but he could not stay idle. It would only bring back ideas and feelings he had no idea how to deal with.

Days passed. Then weeks. Always the same. Fíli gave Sigrid the freedom to come and go as she pleased, and she used it to go to Dale every day. She visited her family and went to the market. She kept herself busy. As did he. The less time they spent together, the less he had to be confronted to marital life. He still did not know how to act around her. He was always afraid of doing or saying the wrong thing. It was more simple to avoid her and go on about his life as if she was not in it.

Everybody knew nothing had happened between them during the wedding night. And it was likely to remain that way for a long time. All could not help but notice how estranged they both were, how they kept to themselves. Fíli kept the habit of having dinner with Dís and his brother. Sigrid sometimes came along but she preferred to stay on her own. It was not how a dwarf marriage was supposed to be, and Thorin came one day, storming in Fíli's halls, saying that the contract would be broken if the marriage was not consummated.

"And if the contract is broken, then what of the alliance with the men of Dale?"

Thorin was fuming, but Fíli stood his ground.

"Maybe I shouldn't have accepted it in the first place!" he said, facing his uncle, defiant.

They stood glaring at each other, none of them wanting to give up.

"You should have thought about what an arranged marriage meant!" Fíli continued. "I can't very well force her."

Thorin looked away and cleared his throat. "No, of course not."

"Ha" stated Fíli, triumphant. "Finally. You admit it."

"But why does she resist?" asked Thorin with accusing eyes. "Are you trying your best?"

This time, it was Fíli's turn to look in the distance, embarrassed.

"I- She-" he mumbled.

"Well, you're going to have to do better than that" Thorin said before leaving Fíli to reflect on his words.

He had to admit, he had not tried very hard to seduce Sigrid. He still did not know what he felt for her. Every night, he spent on the chair while she slept in the bed. At first, he had told himself it was better, because he was afraid how his body might react to her proximity. But then, he had felt relieved when she had not insisted again for him to sleep with her. It meant that she did not want him. And she certainly did nothing to prove him otherwise. She spent most of her time on her own. But was it really her choice, or was she doing what he had ordained for her?

There was nothing for it. If he wanted advice, he would have to go to his mother, and pray that Kíli was not with her.

"Don't you feel anything for her?" asked Dís, her voice gentle, when Fíli was done telling her what his problem was. "She's no great beauty but there must be one thing about her that you like."

He thought about it, frowning. Sigrid was hardworking, and it seemed that she performed her duties as if they were no great burden. She also had a love for simple pleasures. She never wore the jewels he had gifted her, but she picked flowers outside and kept them in vases to brighten their halls. One of the first things she had done had been to sew colorful curtains to hang at their windows. At first, he had not liked the changes, but now he could not have imagined living without them.

He had to admit it was not unpleasant to be coddled. She took off his boots when he came back in the evening and always had a mug of ale ready for him. She seemed to know what he wanted even before he asked for it. And her cooking was the best he had ever tasted, no offense to his mother. She never once complained, no matter how hard the task, and was always quick and efficient. He was sure his halls were the best kept in the whole Mountain.

She was also a formidable haggler. He had seen her at the market and she always got the best bargain. Even when he had explained to her that wealth was not a problem, she had frowned. It was not in her habits to spend without counting. It probably never would be. But it showed her strength of character, even if she seemed unassuming. The trouble was that she was so quiet, he never knew what she thought.

"It's not that" Fíli finally said, realizing the truth for the first time. "I quite like her. But I'm afraid she doesn't like me. And please, don't tell me how she could not. I know you think I'm the best-looking dwarf, but Sigrid is not a dwarf and she must have other standards."

"Well, first of all, my dear son, let me tell you that if she does, she is very wrong" Dis replied. "Any mother would be proud to have such a son as you. You're truthful, selfless and loyal. These are qualities I am sure she must have seen and appreciate."

Fíli shrugged. He was not so sure. He had not spent enough time with Sigrid for her to notice.

"I don't know, mother. She's not very talkative and I mostly keep to myself."

Dís nodded, gently brushing a strand of hair out of his face.

"Then you know what you have to do, my son. Spend more time with her. Get her to know you. Once she sees how wonderful you are, she won't help but fall in love with you."

Love. He had never thought of love before Sigrid had entered his life. But if it was possible for him to have feelings for her, however hard to understand they were, could it be possible for her too? He did not know that he wanted it. He did not feel prepared for it. He had tried to deny what his heart felt for her by staying apart from her as much as he could. But he realized now that life with her would not be such a big burden after all, even with her too smooth face and her height. If only she wanted him.

"Thank you, mother" he said with gratitude. "You always have the best advice. You have given me hope."

Hope that maybe if he showed Sigrid who he really was, if he stopped being afraid of her, she would open her heart to him. He smiled at Dís, planning to spend the evening with his wife and have a special dinner, when Kíli burst into the room with news.

"Uncle Thorin wants you to go negotiate a new treaty, you have to get ready to leave as soon as possible."

So much for his plans, he thought, dismayed. If Thorin wanted him to make his marriage official, then why send him away? But he would do his duty, as always.