Sigrid

A week ago, when Fíli had told her he had to leave, Sigrid had thought she would enjoy her freedom. But now, she found herself fretting and wishing he would be back soon. She had never been alone in the past. Really alone. There was always someone to take care of, her father, Bain, or Tilda, with whom she shared her bed. And even if Fíli slept on the chair, he was in the room with her. She never realized it before, but she missed his presence. His stout frame on the chair felt like he was watching over her. And the sound of his steady breathing often lulled her to sleep. He was reassuring, in an odd sort of way. But now, she had trouble going to sleep, just because he was not there. And her days were very lonely, even if she had permission to go to Dale whenever she wanted. It was not the same as actually living there with her family. Now she was a stranger everywhere, no longer at home with her father, but still not really at home with the dwarves.

She could see how they looked at her when she went outside. They did not understand why she was given so much freedom. They talked behind her back, whispering about how their prince was not truly wedded. There was bound to be dissent about that situation, she could see. But what could she do about it? Fill would not have her. But would he if she gave herself to him? The thought scared her. It also kept her awake at night, as she wondered what it would be like to be truly his. Did she even want it? She had no idea.

The only person who truly cared about her well-being in the Mountain was the lady Dís. And tonight, Fíli's mother had invited her to share her meal. Sigrid had accepted, grateful for Dís's invitation. There was something heavy dwelling on her mind for quite some time and she had never dared talk about it before. But Dís certainly had some expertise on the subject that she would be willing to share.

"Those are really nice mittens you're sewing, my dear!" Dís exclaimed, admiring Sigrid's handiwork. "Did you make sure to double the seam? It wouldn't do if they ripped at the first effort."

The meal was over and after helping Dís with the cleaning, Sigrid had sat with her next to the fire. They both enjoyed working on something while they chatted, and Sigrid had brought a pair of brown leather mittens she wanted to finish before Fíli's return.

"Why, yes, I did" she replied with a smile.

"I see you don't need my advice. You make such sturdy yet beautiful things" Dís said admiringly.

Sigrid was proud of her skills and sometimes, in Dale, she had felt conceited. But here in Erebor, dwarves took great pride in the work of their hands so it was never strange to boast about it.

"I'm sure my son will appreciate" Dís said, putting down her own knitting to look at Sigrid. "He likes you very much, you know."

The girl raised her eyes from her work to stare at Dís.

"Oh really?" she asked, curious to know more, but the dwarf lady only nodded at her before going back to her knitting.

Sigrid cleared her throat. "Well, that is strange, because he barely spends any time with me" she continued.

"That would be because he doesn't know how to act around you" Dís said. "Your wedding was a bit rushed, I have to say. He lacked the time to get to know you and you to know him. So, he's a bit bewildered. But that doesn't mean he doesn't like you, child."

Those words came as a surprise to the girl. She had thought he disliked her and that was why he spent as little time as possible in her company. She had taken her new role seriously and had tried to embrace it as well as she could, given the circumstances. She could not understand why he would not do the same. A husband, as a wife, had certain duties, but he was certainly reluctant to perform them. At first, it had seemed like a blessing that he would leave her alone. But as time passed, she had started to think she was bothering him.

"Do you think-" she began but was interrupted by a loud bang from the door.

Kíli rushed inside.

"Mother!" he exclaimed, ignoring Sigrid's presence. "Fíli's been hurt. They're transporting him to his halls right now. You have to come right now."

Sigrid blanched, dropping the mittens at her feet as she got up, and ran after Kíli and Dís. Her heart was racing in her chest. Fíli was hurt. He needed her. That was all she could think about.

When they reached the halls, Dís dashed up the stairs, Sigrid at her heels, but the girl tripped on the first step. She turned to see what was holding her back. Kíli was clutching her arm, preventing her from moving any further.

"No, not you" he told her.

"What are you doing?" she asked in a shrill voice, trying to wriggle free. "Let go of me! I'm his wife!"

"He doesn't want you there" Kíli answered, ill-at-ease.

"Let her come" Dís called from upstairs. "She has some knowledge of healing."

"But Mother" Kíli hesitated. "I promised Fee I wouldn't let her in."

"Great Mahal, she's his wife!" Dís said, her tone imperious. "Let her go!"

Sigrid glared at Kíli as he released her. What were they thinking? After the Battle of the Five Armies, she had helped so many wounded that she was probably the most skilled healer in the whole Mountain. She climbed the stairs in a heartbeat. But she was not prepared for the sight of Fíli lying on the bed, his clothes torn, belly strapped with makeshift bandages seeping with blood. She stopped short in the doorway, distressed, heart pounding so fast she felt dizzy. She was used to the blood, but it was her husband lying there, helpless. Right at that moment, she knew she cared about him more than she suspected. Taking a moment to recollect herself, she took several deep breaths, but it did nothing to calm the turmoil in her heart.

"If you're going to help, don't stand in the doorway" Dís said, shaking her. "Get over yourself, girl. You've seen worse before."

Oh yes, she had, Sigrid thought; but none of them was her husband. Nevertheless, Dís's words had the effect she aimed for, and the girl walked to the bed as Fíli opened his eyes.

"You - there -" he said, frowning, trying to wave her away. "Kíli, I told you-"

"Don't be silly" his mother cut him off. "Let the girl treat you."

Sigrid gave orders to boil some water and took her healing gear from the cupboard. She removed the blood-soaked bandages, afraid of what she might find under. Five long cuts lacerated Fíli's belly from one side to the other. She was relieved to see that they were not as deep as she had thought at first with the amount of blood. They would get infected if she did not clean them, though.

"What happened?" she asked as she worked. "What did this to you?"

"We were ambushed in the woods" Fíli explained. "A pack of Orcs with wargs. We killed them all, but one of the wargs slashed at me."

The cleaning was a painful process, as she had to go over all the length of each cut and they were all pretty large. But not once did he wince. She had seen men cry in pain with wounds half as severe as his. She admired his strength, his tenacity. Dwarves were extremely robust and strong-willed, but Fíli was certainly the bravest of them all. How proud she was of having such a husband!

"Any other wounded?" she inquired, surprised at the feelings that were colliding in her head.

He shook his head. "No. No other."

"If you are done, maybe we should leave you" Dís said, retreating outside with Kíli.

Sigrid nodded as she finished dressing the wound. When everybody was gone, she sat on the bed and looked at her husband straight in the eyes.

"I'm afraid I have bad news for you" she said. "You'll have to stay in bed at least several days. I know you dwarves heal faster but those gashes are deep and if you move, you're going to reopen them."

He was not going to like it, she thought. He was always out and about, avoiding her. But now there was no way he could leave the room.

"As you say" Fíli sighed, taking her hand. "I'm glad my wife has such knowledge. And impressed as well."

She raised one eyebrow. "Then why wouldn't you let me in?"

"Because I didn't want you to see me like that" he said, shaking his head. "I know now it was a mistake."

His thumb was caressing the back of her hand and she could feel his calluses against her skin. Was it respect in his eyes? Was Dís right? Did he like her? The touch of his fingers elicited a strange warmth inside of her but she did not remove her hand. She smiled at him, bending slightly to brush a strand of hair from his face. She almost gasped as she realized for the first time how soft it was.

"Close your eyes, my dear" she whispered. "You're exhausted and need your rest."

"But what about you? Where will you sleep?" he asked, smiling back at her.

"The chair will do just fine" she answered.

She watched over him all night and not once did he let go of her hand.

Morning came and Sigrid stretched. Fíli was still sleeping, and she disentangled her fingers to go downstairs and prepare breakfast. He would not spend another night on such an uncomfortable piece of furniture, she decided as her joints cracked from staying in the chair for so long.

For several days, she went on with the same routine. She brought him his meals, cleaned the wound regularly and changed the bandages. She stayed with him day and night, sewing, knitting, reading. She only left the bedroom to cook, and in this she was fortunate to count on Dís's help. Fíli's mother and his brother Kíli came every day to check on him but there was nothing more any of them could do. Sigrid knew her job well and the cuts healed fast. He would still have huge scars, though. But what was one more?

Thorin came once, and Sigrid left him alone with his nephew. When he got out, he stared at her with intent eyes before getting on his way. He made her uncomfortable. She never knew what he was thinking. He was so proud! She was glad that Fíli did not seem to share much of his traits.

In a way, she felt grateful for the wound because it meant Fíli had to stay with her at all times. She enjoyed tending him, even if being confined made him moody at times. Moody she could understand. It was his previous indifference and lack of interest in her that troubled her before. Moody was an improvement, because it did not mean he was not appreciative of what she did for him. It was only that staying in bed made him restless. She had to scold him each time he tried to get up, because no matter how fast the cuts healed, he still needed to stay put or they would reopen.

After a few days however, she finally agreed to help him on his feet. She could see his relief as he took a few steps. It must still be painful but again, he would not let it show. She longed to keep him all to herself, but he was not a baby to be coddled. For the first time, she thought maybe that was what she needed. A child. And she would not mind if the child had Fíli's blond hair and clear eyes. Her cheeks burned at the idea.

"What is it?" Fíli asked, noticing her embarrassment.

"Nothing" she replied, looking away.

She fetched his tunic and handed it to him. His muscles rippled as he put it on and she watched, wondering what it would feel like to have him hold her in those strong arms of his. Her cheeks coloured even more.

"What?" he asked again.

She swallowed hard, trying to put those thoughts away from her mind.

"Well, there is one thing" she finally said.

She had been thinking about it for a long time but as it was not in the dwarves customs, she had not dared ask before. But now that she felt more at ease with him, maybe time had come to ask him.

"I would like you to take me out and show me around" she continued.

Fíli's brows furrowed. "Show you around?"

"You are heir to Erebor" she explained, "and I'm your wife. It would be fitting if I knew everything about how the Mountain works. The mines, the forges. Everything."

"You want to know about that?" he asked, genuinely surprised.

She nodded eagerly. "Why, yes, of course. Everything you do is of interest to me. And I know so little about what you do when you're out."

He did not answer right away and she thought she had made a mistake. Maybe it was not proper at all to meddle in his private affairs. But they were married and there were things he needed to share with her. How could she be the future ruler's wife if she did not know anything about how the Mountain worked. Dís had told her a few things but she felt it was hardly sufficient.

"Well?" she asked. "What do you say?"

"I say that I'm quite astonished" he finally said, wetting his lips before continuing. "But if you're really serious about it, I can show you around and explain everything to you. It's going to be most tedious, though."

She smiled, almost jumping in his arms in her enthusiasm.

"Thank you!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands. "Oh, and before I forget, you're not sleeping in the chair tonight."

"But neither are you" he said. "So, where will you sleep?"

"We will both sleep in the bed, like any married couple" she replied, certain he would not agree, but hoping she could make him change his mind.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded again. "Yes, I'm sure. Unless-"

"Unless what?"

She paused, looking down.

"Unless you find me so disgusting that you don't want to sleep near me" she said in a whisper.

That was it. She had finally said the thing that had been bothering her for weeks. She felt relieved. At least, now she would know. She was still staring at her feet when Fíli's fingers touched her chin, raising her face until he could look her in the eyes.

"Why would you even think that?" he asked, taking a step forward.

Sigrid held her breath as he continued. "Sigrid, you are-" he hesitated. "You are b-"

At that moment, Kíli entered the room, booming: "How are you, big brother?"

Fíli stepped backwards, releasing her face, cheeks coloured a slight shade of pink under his beard.

"Don't you knock?" he asked Kíli.

"Am I interrupting something?" the younger dwarf said with a wink. "Just pretend I'm not here!"

"Kíli!" Dís scolded him as she stood in the doorway. "Fíli's right. You don't barge in other people's rooms like this! Especially in their own chamber."

"Yes, Mother" Kíli answered meekly.

Sigrid went out to fetch some refreshments for their guests, wondering what Fíli had wanted to say. Thinking about what might have happened if Kíli had not barged in.

That night, as she went to bed next to her husband, she longed to ask him to finish his sentence. But it was already enough to know that she did not repel him. To lie down next to him and feel his body warm the sheets. She curled to the side, watching him sleep, afraid to make a move that might wake him up. All she wanted was to rest her head on his shoulder but she dared not. She stayed awake for a long time, listening to his breathing. Yet slumber finally caught up with her after all those nights spent on the chair.