Tilda pointed up in excitement as she and Sigrid arrived at the great gate of Erebor. "Look Sigrid, the battlements are finished! Do you want to go up and have a look at them?"

Sigrid shook her head. "I don't have time, Tilda, I'm too busy." She sighed and gently shuffled Tilda forwards into the hall, anxious not to hold up the line of townspeople behind her, their arms full of crates of fruit and vegetables, sacks of flour, and baskets of eggs. "Come on," she continued. "These provisions have to be delivered to the kitchens." They hadn't made ten steps into the hall before they heard a voice calling to them, and turned to see Balin hastening toward them.

"Lady Sigrid, Lady Tilda, you are arrived at last! How are you both?" he beamed, arms outstretched. "Is your Da not with you?"

Sigrid dropped her eyes and curtseyed, then abruptly discarded her formal demeanour and gave Balin a warm hug. "We are well, Balin. It's just Tilda and I for now. Da's coming from Mirkwood and Bain's still in Dale, helping with the butchering. They'll be here as soon as they can. Are you well? How's your leg feeling?"

"Ah, well, it's not been the same since the battle, as you know, and I fear it won't improve now, but never mind that. Let me show you to your rooms."

Sigrid hesitated and gestured towards the crates of food being carried in behind her. "I've got to take these down to the kitchens…"

"Nonsense, child, the steward can take care of that. Come with me." He ushered them further into the Mountain, through a maze of hewn corridors and wide staircases, before stopping halfway down one corridor to open a thick wooden door.

"Here's your chamber, Sigrid dear, in the guest wing. The bathing pool and necessaries are down at the end of the corridor. I'll get your things brought up straightaway." He turned to Tilda. "I was thinking of a special room for you, my Lady Tilda, right up at the top of the Mountain, next door to the toy workshop." He raised his bushy eyebrows at her. "But perhaps you're too old for such things?"

Tilda tried to feign the indifference she thought her advanced age of eleven years merited, but Sigrid had seen her eyes spark with interest. "Well, a room at the top of the mountain, that would be interesting, I suppose..." Sigrid laughed and shook her head at the two of them.

"Thank you Balin, that sounds wonderful."

Balin took Tilda's hand and moved to go, then turned back to Sigrid. "You get settled in here and I'll come back later to take you down to supper. It's just a small gathering tonight, in the West Hall."

Sigrid nodded, and watched Balin and Tilda depart hand in hand. She had been considering hiding away in her room during supper to go over the lists of food again, but if Balin wanted to escort her downstairs, she wasn't going to disappoint him. He had been so kind to her and her family over the past year. He had initially come to Dale to oversee the craftsmen that Thorin had sent to help mend the walls of the town, but over time he had developed a warm friendship with Sigrid, advising her on all sorts of things – protocol, logistics, even taking an interest in her small garden – and she appreciated his grandfatherly wisdom and gentle manner. She turned to enter her room. A large bed covered with a beautifully soft downy quilt was set against one side, along with two chairs and a small table. A fire crackled cheerfully in the fireplace, next to a washstand with a basin and pitcher of water, still warm, and Sigrid was struck by the thoughtfulness and efficiency of the staff of the Mountain. Then, suddenly mindful of the implications of agreeing to go down to supper, she sat down on the bed and sighed.

Balin walked slowly but proudly with Sigrid on one arm and Tilda bouncing eagerly on the other as they made their way towards the West Hall. As they approached the doorway, an unexpected level of noise and warmth washed over Sigrid. She looked through the door.

"Balin, I thought you said small? All of Erebor and half of Dale must be here!"

He walked her into the room and it seemed to Sigrid as if every eye in the crowded hall was upon her. They continued to move past table after table, and she knew Balin was walking them up to the top of the hall. She tried one last effort to avert the inevitable.

"I thought it was just an informal supper tonight, Balin. Can we not sit together? The plants you brought me are growing beautifully, I was hoping to tell you about them."

"Nothing would please me more, my dear Sigrid, but honour is always due to the Lady of Dale, and we must do our duty." His eyes twinkled at her. "We can catch up later for a proper chin-wag, hey?" He drew up in front of the long table at the head of the hall, where Thorin, King under the Mountain, was seated with Lady Dis and Fili on one side, and Kili and Tauriel on the other. "By my beard, child, you're shaking like a leaf!" he murmured to her under his breath. "Come, hold my arm, there's naught here to fear." He cleared his throat and raised his voice.

"Sigrid, the Lady of Dale, and the Lady Tilda." Thorin and his nephews rose in their seats and bowed, and Dis and Tauriel nodded and smiled their welcome. Tilda squeezed her thanks to Balin and ran around the table to take a seat beside Tauriel. Sigrid curtseyed, rather inelegantly, but Balin kept hold of her hand and gave her an encouraging smile as he led her around the table to take a seat beside Fili, who rose again as Sigrid sat down.

"At your service, my lady."

"My lord." Sigrid took a deep breath and looked around the hall. Again a disconcerting number of eyes were upon her. She picked up a napkin and twisted it nervously in her hands, then realised what she was doing and put it back on the table. She glanced sideways at Fili. "I'm sorry, but I wasn't expecting to be seated… up here. Balin said it would be a quiet supper."

"This is quiet, by dwarf standards, my lady. We're expecting triple this number come the feast," said Fili, signalling for a tray of food to be brought over. He looked at Sigrid and his brow contracted. "Does the crowd bother you, my lady?"

"No… well, yes, a bit actually," she admitted, as Fili piled up her plate with small pies and sweetmeats. "The crowd, the noise…" She looked at him fully for the first time, unable to give any further explanation, and hoping to see understanding in his bright blue eyes. There was, mixed with no small amount of amusement. He leaned towards her.

"If it would make you more comfortable, I'll order everybody out of the hall," he grinned, two very appealing dimples appearing in his cheeks. He raised his hand and looked at her teasingly, as if only waiting for her nod to send the whole crowd packing.

Sigrid couldn't help but laugh at the look on his face. "Wait, wait, let's not disturb everyone just yet."

Fili lowered his hand. "The offer stands, my lady. If it gets too much, just let me know," and he lifted his tankard in her direction and took a sip.

Fili stole another glance across at his dinner guest. Sigrid had been as skittish as a frightened foal when she had sat down next to him, and he was glad he had been able to help her relax. They had been talking of the harvest and the rebuilding of Dale, and he was glad to hear that she and her people were making progress, though he was conscious that in the course of their conversation they were studiously avoiding any mention of the events that had happened on that night of fire and death a year ago. His thoughts could not help but stray to that night, remembering an image of her standing beside him, helping to hold down Kili as he lay writhing in pain on her kitchen table. He had been so grateful for her assistance that night, and impressed by her courage, and he would have liked to have told her so, but for her obvious reluctance to speak of it. He'd not had any other opportunity to speak to her since that night, though he had thought of her many a time, especially during the months he had been laid up recovering from the wounds he sustained in the battle for the Mountain. He had been interested to hear news of her from Balin, who was overseeing the rebuilding teams, but as Fili watched her face and listened to her speak, he realised that there was a lot about Sigrid of Dale that Balin had simply failed to mention, and he was regretting that he hadn't made time to lead the work teams himself. Now that she was more at ease, her charm, and humour, and intelligence, were impressing him as much as her courage had then. He also realised that until tonight, he'd never seen her smile or heard her laugh, and as soon as he had seen her light up at his foolish joke, he had bent all his efforts for the evening towards making her smile appear as often as possible. As the food was cleared away from the hall, and some pipers tuned up for some impromptu dancing, he found himself wondering what it would feel like to hold her in his arms.

He could have cheerfully fed his beloved uncle to a mountain troll when Thorin interrupted him to discuss business just as Fili was about to ask her to dance.