The hallway was dark as they entered, with only a few candles perched in rough alcoves along the stone corridor to light their way. The four big candelabras had been set by the dinner table, and as Sigrid and her father neared the soft, warm glow they felt their normal vision returning and looked for their seats on the long side of the table.
Not that there was anyone to guide them in – there was no sign of anyone else in the great hall yet, but they had been told by one of Thorin's party – an old dwarf with a long white beard – to sit at the places marked by the two silver coins. So they shuffled closer to the table, and discovered an array of jewels had been laid out as place-markers. Plus three silver coins.
"Does it matter which places we sit at, Da?"
Bard turned to his daughter and shrugged. "I suppose not. The seating arrangement can hardly be important. Let's just sit closer to the middle of the table."
Sigrid returned her gaze blandly to the table and selected the silver seat closest to the middle. She had a feeling her father knew as little about formal dinner parties as she did, and cared even less for dwarven social etiquette.
From the dark corridor from which they'd come, another white-haired dwarf appeared, fussing in the doorway with a jug and some glasses. "Good evening, friends! I am Dori, and I have some wine for you. Only..." He cast a backward look into the shadows. "I hope you don't mind pouring it yourself, I'm trying to get the rest of them to come in and get seated." He shook his head quickly and muttered something under his breath in Khuzdul, then darted over and unceremoniously dumped the wine in front of them."It's not easy, you know."
Sigrid watched him as he wandered back towards the darkness. She was sure she could make out voices from further down the hallway, and she listened to see if she could recognise any of them. She didn't really know any of these people – and she had no idea what to expect from this. Were they going to be involved in a bawdy drunken celebration, or was it more of a pretentious state banquet? Either way, she didn't want to stay out too long. Her younger siblings were being looked after by their old Laketown neighbour, but she knew that if their nightmares woke them up, they would be looking to her for comfort, and she intended to be home. Her father could manage fine without her help if this was just another drinking party...
Her father poured some of the dark liquid into their glasses, and she took a sip of the wine. It tasted sweet, and strong, and she wondered where it had come from. Did the dwarves have an ancient wine cellar stored away in the vaults of Erebor, or was this part of the meagre rations they'd been able to salvage from Laketown? She took another sip, trying to see if she could guess its age and vintage, but she had no idea really. She didn't know anything about wine. Or much care for it either.
From behind her, she heard the voices getting louder, and saw more dwarves filing in. She regarded them curiously, and recognised at once the handsome, dark-haired figure next to the tall, red-haired elf. They'd been in her house. They'd helped her family escape. She shot them a friendly nod as they seated themselves on the corner across from her, and they both smiled back.
"How is your leg, Kili?" she asked, wondering if she was pronouncing his name right.
"It's much better, Sigrid. Thank you. I'm sorry again for all the trouble we put you to, you and... the rest of your people." The dwarf glanced at Bard, who was looking at him seriously, and Sigrid cleared her throat.
"Kili, you've met my Da, haven't you? Da, this is Kili and his friend Tauriel." She fixed her father with a careful look. "They helped save us from the house when it went on fire. They're my friends."
Bard reached out a hand towards the pair on the corner and addressed the elf at Kili's side. "My lady, I am Bard of Laketown – so they've started calling me, anyway. It's enchanting to meet you, but what – may I ask – is an elf doing here at Thorin's feast? I was under the impression that Thranduil had abandoned us all?"
The elf's green eyes seemed to widen, and she looked down at the table for a second before replying. "Yes, that he did." Tauriel took a sip of her wine and Sigrid thought she saw the dwarf reach an arm around her back. "I am no longer welcome in his kingdom, so I represent neither him nor my people. I chose to fight on Kili's side in the battle. Against the orders of my king." She raised her eyebrow pointedly at Bard, and moved closer into Kili's embrace.
Sigrid felt a pang of sympathy for them both, and beside her, her father whistled softly. "That must make you both very popular around here. I've heard of how much Thorin's kind hate the fair folk. Why has he given you both a seat at his table?"
Kili looked at Sigrid and Bard in turn, and saw they were merely curious. He sighed. "Well, it's hard for him not to, given that I'm his nephew and second in line for his throne."
Bard met his gaze at once. "You're kidding?"
But Kili just shook his head, his face darkening. "No, unfortunately it's true." He gestured quickly around him, at all the other dwarves who were trailing in and sitting at the table. Most of them seemed to be studiously avoiding looking his way. He whispered bitterly across to Bard and Sigrid. "I think this is part of the punishment, actually. He's trying to show me how little everyone thinks of me now!" He grabbed his glass of wine, and angrily took a swig.
Sigrid caught Tauriel's eye, and smiled at her. "I could always come round and sit on your other side? It would be nice to have some female company."
Tauriel grinned back at her. "Thank you, Sigrid, but I fear we are meant to stay here for now – at least until the dinner is served. We have our place holders specially arranged!" She pointed to Kili's white crystal gemstone, one of four round the table.
Kili sniggered. "Yes, I gather these ones are just for my family. I could have chosen to sit at Fili's place instead, but I think this one is meant for her." He reached for Tauriel's place holder, and in front of the candles waved a lump of coal up at them.
Sigrid felt herself laughing, glad she had found at least one dwarven ally. "But that's ridiculous! Whose idea was this? Let's just swap the things around, nobody will notice!" She threw her silver coin gently across at Tauriel, and scooped her wine glass so she could walk to the other side of the table.
Seeing that her new friends were on the verge of protesting, she scurried round quickly to sit beside the elf, flinging the golden coin back at her father, who laughed as he placed it at the now vacant chair.
She patted Tauriel on the forearm. "It's better like this, I'd rather talk to you anyway."
As the final few dwarves stumbled in, the excited chatter around them seemed to grow in volume. Sigrid watched as the fussy old dwarf who'd left them the wine took a seat next to her, nodding politely her way as he sat down, while a young, thin dwarf with long brown hair and a nervous energy took her former place by her father's side.
He nodded shyly at her from across the table. "Hello, Miss, my name is Ori. How do you do?"
Sigrid extended her hand to him, but the dwarf looked at it uncertainly, then snatched it without warning and planted a small kiss on the end of her fingers. Sigrid stifled a laugh, and tried to look serious. "I'm very well, thank you, Ori. My name is Sigrid and I am... well, I was from Laketown."
Ori looked up at her with his bright, brown eyes. "Oh, you must be Bard's daughter then? I heard you were coming. It's nice to meet you." He looked at her thoughtfully. "We don't get many ladies coming along to dine with us very often."
Sigrid was unsure how best to reply, but smiled back warmly anyway. "No, I suppose I've never been to dinner with a bunch of dwarves either, so please mind my manners if I do something wrong."
But the dwarf just looked and her and giggled disconcertingly, as if she'd made some kind of funny joke, and then turned to speak to the dark, moustache-sporting companion on his right. She tried to catch her father's eye, but saw he was now talking to a particularly small and hairy dwarf specimen sitting on his other side by the third silver coin. And beside the hairy creature, right on the corner, she recognised Kili's fair-haired brother.
Sigrid regarded him quietly, his face animated in conversation as he conferred with Kili and Tauriel, and was struck again by how handsome he was. For a dwarf, at any rate. But she remembered him from her house too – how brave he'd been fighting off all those horrible creatures that had come pouring in to kill her and her family. And how he'd carried her off to safety, securing her in the boat beside her little brother and sister, before going back inside to help his friends.
Fili, that's his name...
As she watched him, the dwarf suddenly looked her way and caught her staring. Instinctively, she looked down, embarrassed, but when she looked back up at him he was still looking at her, smiling. He waved his hand at her, and she felt the colour rise in her cheeks, hoping sincerely that he wouldn't notice in the candle-lit darkness.
Fili started to say something to her, but before he could start, there was a commotion behind him, and he turned round sharply.
" – must be mad if you think I'm sitting on the far side of the table!" A short, stocky dwarf with a long flowing ginger beard was shouting at a taller, darker dwarf who looked down at him with angry blue eyes. There was something in the taller dwarf's features that reminded her strongly of Kili, but the silent rage on his face was all his own. Sigrid had a feeling she already knew who this was.
"Cousin or not, Dáin, do not think to speak to me like this in my own hallway, in front of my own guests!" Thorin thundered down. "There is no insult implied in the seating order, I am merely thinking of my lady's comfort and that your brother-in-law Bolli may sit beside you through dinner!"
Sigrid was confused, and felt herself frowning. Nearby, she heard Kili laughing sharply, before a stern look from his brother silenced him. Across the table, the hairy creature spoke wearily. "Let me guess, Thorin wants to put the woman in Dáin's seat at head of the table?"
Fili looked round, puzzled. "How do you know that, Bilbo? I didn't think you'd been to a Khazâd-uzhin before?"
The hobbit raised his wine glass and knocked back a large gulp. "It was just a guess."
But evidently Dáin was still not appeased. "How about your woman sits next to my brother-in-law, and I sit next to you at the Second Seat? I'm your lead banner-man and cousin, and the honour of our fathers demands it!"
"Do not speak to me about honour, cousin. Not when you had so little faith in my quest from the start. And do not claim your father is dishonoured by this – I offer you the seat opposite mine, so that you may sit with your countryman and we can direct the conversation around this table as befits our own kind. While we are in the presence of others, I am placing you as my equal."
Dáin snorted, and shrugged his shoulders. "So be it, cousin. I will not stand here and argue any longer with you. Even to discuss this offends my dignity." And with a toss of his head, Dáin marched over to the far end of the table, to sit beside a particularly muscular, brown-bearded dwarf who watched Thorin with a glower.
With a smug smile to cement his supremacy, Thorin glanced over his shoulder. "My lady, are you ready?"
The conversation round the table hushed as Rose stepped out of the shadows and glided towards the table. She had on a beautiful, golden dress – and Sigrid wondered where she could have possibly found it, as it was far grander than anything she'd seen any of the Laketown ladies wearing. Her hair was braided in knots, and pinned on top of her head like a dancer would wear, with a few loose tendrils fluttering freely around her soft face at the front. She looked radiant, and she moved gracefully and slowly towards her seat beside the king.
And doesn't she just know she's beautiful, thought Sigrid critically. Even my own father is staring at her like a fool – and all the dwarves too!
She looked around the table, and saw that both Kili and the hairy creature – Bilbo, she'd heard him called – seemed unmoved by her entry. Even Tauriel sat watching her, with a distant, faraway look on her face. Her eyes sought out Fili, noting that he was sitting with his back to the woman, and did not react at all.
Interesting, she noted. Maybe he's not into women either.
As Thorin and Rose took their seats at the head of the table, Dáin's voice boomed out from the bottom of the table. "I see, my lady, that you are as lovely as I had heard. Please accept my apologies for any... misunderstandings on my part. I was labouring under the delusion that this was a dwarven feast, a Khazâd-uzhin, to celebrate our dwarvish forces' victory over our enemies. I didn't realise it was open to all of Thorin's favourite tavern regulars as well."
Sigrid looked from Dáin's red face, as he raised his wine glass with a sneer, to Thorin's thin-lipped smile. "My guests are the future, Dáin. Erebor needs to have allies, and since so few of our own kind have thus far supported me – I thought it was time to make new alliances." Thorin rose to his feet, and raised his glass, staring coldly at Dáin as he waited for everyone around the table to stand. Dáin was the last to comply, with a shake of his head.
Seeing everyone standing and waiting for his signal, Thorin beamed at his guests around the table. "To Erebor, and our new friends!" And he raised his glass skyward.
Sigrid watched, slightly appalled, as the dwarves used the toast as an opportunity to empty their glasses and bang them on the table for a refill. She took a small sip of hers and sat down quickly, before anyone could accuse her of shirking her drinking, and saw her elven friend beside her did the same.
From out of the shadows, serving women appeared carrying jugs, and set about refilling the dwarves' glasses around the table, while others carried silver plates of bread, roast vegetables and meat. Sigrid recognised some of the women from Laketown – she'd heard her father say Thorin was paying generously for their services. And their food. As if gold would be much use to her people once the winter snows came!
She shielded her glass as the women approached, and helped herself to some food from the plates as they were passed around. The dwarves were evidently very impressed by the meat course, and even the hairy little Bilbo seemed to be happy as he stuffed a whole roast potato into his mouth. His plate was piled high with large helpings of everything, and Sigrid wondered how on earth such a small creature could ever manage to eat it all.
We shouldn't be wasting all this food! What are we going to do when it runs out? I'm pretty sure it won't be King Thorin and his pretty lady who are going hungry!
She tried to catch her father's eye, but he seemed deep in conversation with Thorin's nephews, so she vowed to raise her concerns with him before his council meeting tomorrow. As the representative of Laketown, Sigrid hoped he could keep hold of his temper if Thorin started being antagonistic. Their people needed him to stay cool and rise above the dwarves' petty tantrums. But since her mother's death, he always seemed to on the edge of another angry outburst...
"What do you think that red-bearded dwarf meant by tavern regulars?" she asked her elven friend. "Was he insulting my father?"
Tauriel put down her knife and fork, and took a quick glance down the table at Dáin. "I think it was more aimed at Rose. Dáin just feels insulted, that's all. So he's just trying to goad Thorin in return." She shrugged, and smiled half-heartedly at Sigrid. "I guess I'm lucky he's not noticed me yet!"
Sigrid bit into a breadcake thoughtfully. "I don't know why Thorin's got to insult anyone, isn't this supposed to be a party? Isn't it supposed to be fun?"
Tauriel watched as Thorin skewered a carrot with his meat knife and raised it to Rose's lips, allowing her to nibble on it delicately. "I think he is having fun," she explained.
"So, cousin-in-law," came a call from the bottom of the table, "could you explain to us how you have come to this interesting alliance with our elven friend here? Dáin and I were under the impression that Thranduil had rejected our generous offer of peace?"
Sigrid knew at once who he was referring to, and from the corner of her eye she noticed Kili stiffen and take Tauriel's hand under the table cloth. She turned her eyes coldly to the brown-bearded hulk by Dáin's side, and then back to Thorin, now nonchalantly skewering a potato with his steak-knife.
"You are correct, Bolli. The Mirkwood king remains hostile to our kingdom, and cannot be counted on as a friend – although this will shock few of us here. Indeed the wizard, Gandalf, has ventured into Mirkwood in an attempt to change the mind of that silky-haired durachit and bring him to our meeting tomorrow, but I fear he is wasting his time." Thorin dipped his roast potato in a puddle of gravy on his plate, carefully covering all the edges with a coating of the thick sauce.
"So to answer your original question, I would say that this elf – the lady Tauriel – is here on the express wishes of my youngest nephew. He claims that she can be trusted, and if he is proven correct then she may be a useful ally to my kingdom." Thorin bit into the potato casually, nodding his head as if savouring the taste. "As I said, we need new alliances."
Dáin and Bolli exchanged a frown. The red-bearded dwarf looked confused. "And why would your nephew think such a thing, Thorin? Kili –" He turned his face to his younger kinsman on the corner. "Why do you vouch for this elf and invite her to our dinner table?"
The table went deathly quiet and all eyes turned on Kili. With a small nod of support from his brother, the dark-haired prince sat up straighter in his chair, and met their questioning stares defiantly. "This elf saved my life, and has been fighting on our side since we left Mirkwood! She –"
"– And why would she do that?" Dáin cried, incredulous. He stared at the red-haired elf sitting beside Sigrid in astonishment.
Tauriel cleared her throat. "My lords, I –"
"Look how close the two of them are sitting! She must be Kili's bit of stuff!" Bolli jeered, pointing his fork at the pair on the opposite corner. "Kili is a zver-fucker, just like his uncle!"
Sigrid didn't know any Khuzdul, but she understood the meaning easily enough. She heard Kili's sharp and angry intake of breath, and saw Fili's jaw drop in an expression of outrage, while Thorin's chair thudded to the floor as he jumped to his feet. With a howl of fury and an aim that would have made an archer proud, Thorin loosed the potato from his knife towards the leering Bolli, and struck him square in the eye. The potato smashed on impact, and gravy poured down the brute's face.
But Bolli was unrepentant. "That's very kingly of you, Thorin! Look at you preening yourself beside that woman! You're a disgrace to the honour of your mother. Or was your mother a dirty zver as well? Maybe you're not fit to be the King under the Mountain, if all you're going to do is fill the mountain with filthy foreigners!"
Sigrid caught her father's eye, and saw he was scowling in displeasure. Surely this was aimed at the pair of them, along with Tauriel and Bilbo?
But the rest of Thorin's company was in uproar. All around the table they turned on Bolli immediately, and pelted him with whatever was on their plates. Few of them were as accurate in their aim as Thorin however, and so Dáin, and even Dwalin and Balin who sat on the corner beside the guests, were showered with soggy potatoes, cauliflower florets, and roast mutton.
As a well-paced carrot clipped his nose, Dáin rose to his feet and raised his fists to the sky, shrieking an ugly dwarvish curse, while Bolli upped the ante, throwing his entire plate down the table and catching Bilbo, Fili, Rose and Thorin with the splattered debris as the plate smashed against the far wall.
Thorin drew his sword, and leaped at once onto the dinner table, but Rose, wiping traces of mashed potato from her cheek, grabbed him by the waist and tried to pull him back down, as Fili attempted to wrestle the sword from his uncle's hand.
Sigrid shook her head, disgusted.
What a waste of our food! These people are like children!
She looked around the table, wondering how to stop this farce before someone actually got hurt. Inspiration striking, she leapt to her feet and blew the big candles out on the candelabra beside Kili and Tauriel's corner, then tiptoed round carefully to the corners surrounding Bolli and Dáin's end of the table, and blew them out hurriedly – watching to dodge any incoming missiles. Amazingly, the dwarves round the table were still too absorbed in their dispute to notice the room was getting darker, so Sigrid ran onto the last lights behind Fili and blew the candles out one by one.
As darkness fell in the room, the voices around her suddenly grew muted, and Sigrid felt all eyes turn to her as they realised what she was doing.
With a puff, she blew out the last candle, and breathed a sigh of relief as all activities ceased.
"I might be just a zver, but I think you all need to calm down! This food was bought from the people of Laketown, and you've wasted enough of it to feed a family for a month! You should all be ashamed of yourselves." She realised she was shaking, and stumbled over to where she thought her father must be in the darkness.
She heard him cough, and edged towards the sound. "I'm going home, Da. I think it's time someone went to check on Tilda and Bain."
"Someone get the lights back on!" she heard Thorin yell, followed by feet scurrying along the corridor towards the dining hall. A serving woman came in with a glowing candlestick, and stopped still in shock as she uncovered the first signs of the food strewn all over the floor.
Bard turned towards his daughter's voice. "I think that's maybe wise, Sigrid. Only, would you mind waiting for me? I need to find out about this meeting tomorrow. About whether it's still going ahead."
Sigrid saw the serving woman begin to light the candles up again, and felt a sense of weariness. "No, you stay here and talk to the dwarves. I think I'd better leave now." She took her father's hand and gave it a squeeze. "I'll see you back in the hovel, Da."
She took a final look around the wrecked dinner table and all the muttering, angry dwarves. Catching Kili and Tauriel's eye, she smiled and nodded at them as she turned to leave.
"My lady, let me escort you home." To her surprise she saw a fair-haired dwarf approaching her in the semi-darkness.
"You don't have to trouble yourself, my lord. Stay here with your family."
She started walking towards the corridor, wanting to get away from these people as quickly as possible, but she saw he was following her.
"Please Sigrid, I wanted to apologise."
She stopped walking, and allowed him to catch up with her.
"You don't need to apologise to me, Fili. It wasn't your fault."
She could see his face now, as they approached the little alcoves where the solitary candles sat. He looked uncomfortable, and she wondered why he was bothering to speak to her.
"But I am ashamed. I'm sorry for all the trouble my people have brought to your doorstep, Sigrid." He looked at her in the dim light, and she could see his troubled expression. "First we get your city burnt down, then we break all the promises we made to you, and then... even after all your kindness, we insult you and your help yet again." He shook his head sadly. "You must really hate us."
Sigrid looked at him carefully, wondering how to be diplomatic. "I don't hate your people, Fili. I think you're sometimes just a bit... difficult. That's all." She tried to smile at him, but he wasn't looking her way. "I'm sure we can come to some sort of working relationship eventually – I mean, our peoples used to be close, didn't they?"
She saw him nod his head. "So I've heard."
They took a few more paces in silence, and Sigrid began to feel uncomfortable herself. "Listen, Fili, are you going to this meeting tomorrow?" She pursed her lips in scorn. "Assuming it's not going to start another war or something?"
Fili turned to her and frowned. "Yes, I'm afraid so. My uncle has named me as his heir so I'm expected to go along to these things and... learn from his example." He sighed, and Sigrid found herself chuckling.
"Lucky you! Well, I don't know if you can help me, Fili – but I'm kind of worried right now about how things are going for my people." She saw that he was looking at her earnestly, so continued. "We don't have much left after the fire. I don't know how we're going to manage over winter! And I don't trust your uncle – or my father, actually – to be able to make a sensible plan."
Fili looked perplexed. "But your father seems like a good man, Sigrid. A man who wants the best for his people?"
Sigrid nodded. "He is. And he does. But he has a temper on him. He's –" she stopped, wondering if she should really be divulging all this to Thorin's nephew. What if he used it against them? How could she trust him?
I need to trust someone around here! And so do they. Even Thorin said they need friends too!
"He's been miserable since my Mam died. It was a couple of years ago, but he's still not the same... he can behave quite irrationally when he thinks people are being underhand, or insulting him." She sighed, not wanting Fili to think badly of her father. "I used to think he'd get over it and go back to his old self, but I think that part of him died when she did."
Sigrid stepped along in the dim light, and Fili said nothing. She wondered if she'd been too candid with him, and was about to apologise, when he turned to her and patted her lightly on the arm.
"I understand, my lady – my own father died several years ago, and I know my mother has never been the same since." He looked at her cautiously as they approached another candle. "Grief affects all of us the same."
She looked at him in surprise. "I'm sorry, Fili. I had no idea."
He met her eye. "You don't have to apologise for anything, Sigrid. It wasn't your fault. It just... makes you appreciate the family you have left. No matter how they behave. No matter what they do." He shrugged helplessly beside her. "I have to look after them as best I can."
Sigrid nodded. "I know what you mean." And she paused as she saw they were nearing the gates that led out of Erebor. "I need to go back now, and check on my brother and sister. You don't need to come out into Dale – it's fine – we're right outside the gate!"
Fili started to protest, but she shook her head. "They'll never get back to sleep if they see you come in." Acting on a whim, she reached down and took his hand in hers. "They think you're a hero after what you did back in the fire." She smiled into his blue-grey eyes – the same colour as hers, she realised – and gave his hand a squeeze. "Go and check on your family, Fili. They need you."
She heard the gate open behind them, and she felt her cheeks redden again as he took a step closer. His eyes met hers and she saw they were soft and clear. "My lady, you have my word that your people won't be forgotten. I swear to you." He squeezed her hand slowly in return, and the two of them stood still, wondering what should happen next.
After a few awkward seconds she dropped his hand. "Goodnight, Fili." she whispered, and without a second glance she turned and walked forward towards the cold, night-time air.
She concentrated intently on putting one foot in front of the other, wondering if it was the wine that was making her stagger like a drunk, until she heard the gate swing fully shut behind her. She stopped and closed her eyes.
Out here in the cold, she could feel the heat on her cheeks, and she felt her heart skipping in her chest.
I need some sleep. I've had too much to drink, far too much excitement, and I'm tired. That is all!
But as she made her way to her new home in the ruined Dale cottage, and crept into bed beside her sleeping little sister, she remembered the look of sweet surprise on Fili's face as she'd held his hand, and she smiled to herself in the darkness.