So Comes Snow After Fire

14.ii

Fíli would be glad when the introductions to noblewomen were finished. All of them so far had been nice enough girls, but that was just it: he wasn't truly meeting girls. He was being offered military alliances, trade routes, ambassadorial connections. In a way, these introductions felt like a continuation of the day's council discussions, though with the added strange condition that approving a connection also decided a queen and the mother of his heirs.

It was almost funny: in Ered Luin, girls had found his royal station attractive mainly for the novelty of the thing. Without throne or kingdom, the title of prince leant him a kind of tragic distinction, but was nothing to be grasped. But now, of course, his rank actually meant something, and during these interviews Fíli often felt as if he were merely a title and a crown which these noblewomen—or their fathers—would be happy to gain. He almost missed those lost days when the most any girl had wanted from him was a smile and perhaps a kiss, provided no-one was looking.

Thus far, Thorin had not advised Fíli for or against any of these young women, and Fíli believed his uncle meant to respect his opinion. The thought gave him confidence to defer his choice till after the council when, of course, he would declare his suit to Sif.

But in the meantime, he was politely going through the formalities of yet another presentation.

He had met Audha before, of course, on the day of the Blacklocks' arrival. Since then, he had spoken with her once or twice in the banquet hall or during music after the evening meal. But today, her father, Andvari, was formally presenting her to him as a prospective match.

Andvari spoke of their family's high position among the eastern tribes, of the ready respect and allegiance that Fíli might command through her, and of the wealth that, joined to Erebor's, might extend their influence far. Even Thorin had thought it a prudent connection, for he had meant to marry Audha's aunt, before Erebor had been lost. Andvari hopped that Fíli might seal this long-desired connection between their houses at last.

These were many of the same things Fíli had heard in favor of the other matches, and yet today, he somehow found the reasoning especially tiring. As Andvari enumerated the advantages of the marriage, Fíli considered how it would have troubled him to hear Lord Ironsides speak of his own daughter that way, as if Sif's dowry or the number of trade deals held by her brother mattered more than her gentleness and her steadfast heart.

Yet at last, Audha's father had done, and he left the two young dwarves alone, save for her chaperone, who sat at the far end of the chamber doing beadwork at a small loom.

Fíli was able to relax then, and Audha, too, shifted towards him in her chair as if she had been waiting to be able to speak.

"I'm sorry to talk of you like that," Fíli began, speaking his mind. "You should be treated like a treasure, not a business contract."

Audha regarded him openly. "I am Father's treasure," she corrected. "Just one with a very salable value." She did not speak as if she resented this fact.

"Fíli, this is a contract. Let us not pretend otherwise." Her expression softened then, warming and becoming almost self-conscious. "But that does not make it bad. I would like you to choose me."

He had not expected such directness, but he respected her for it.

"I've heard why your father says I should," Fíli told her. "Why do you say so?"

"I could be happy with you," Audha said, surprising him again. "My house is the younger royal line, and so my duty is to marry and strengthen our kingdom. I've never expected to marry someone I would have chosen for myself. But I would choose you. Fíli, you are handsome and kind and noble. And I believe you would love me."

Fíli did not know what to say: none of the other women had told him anything quite like this.

"I'm not sentimental," Audha protested gently. "I don't need you to be in love with me. But I see that you would treat your bride as more than a mere political accessory."

Of course he would. Poor Audha; had she expected otherwise from him?

Fíli asked, "Tell me, if you had the choice between duty and affection, which would you choose?"

Her expression was momentarily confused. "Your brother's devotion is commendable," she said carefully. "But I do not think he is wise. I could not respect him as I do you."

She had not understood the question quite as Fíli had intended, but he had his answer, true enough: she would choose duty. What would she think if she knew he meant to chose for love?

Audha continued, "I would consider it an honor to serve you, not only as wife but as queen. I am familiar with the politics of a court, and I could aid you in managing your own."

"I'm sure you are quite accomplished," Fíli concurred, offering her a smile that expressed real respect. "Tell me, what is it you want most?"

Fíli thought she had been raised on duty, the same as he, and yet she seemed to understand it somewhat differently. For him, duty had been something he had striven to live up to, a promise of worth he might attain. But her duty seemed to be something she could not escape, and must therefore make into something she could live with.

"What do I want?" Audha echoed him, sounding gently surprised. "I suppose... I should like to be given something noble to follow. Or," she touched his hand lightly, "someone."

"Audha," Fíli began, and his fingers caught on her rings as he clasped her hand. Sif never wore rings—the thought flashed through his mind—they interfered with her grip on a hammer. He forced his attention back to the dark-haired young woman before him. "You would be a great gift and honor to any man. But I am not yet ready to chose." It was true, it a way.

She nodded, untroubled. "Promise you will think of me," she said

"I will." And this was true, as well. He would certainly remember what Audha had said, for she had given as convincing an argument as any he had heard yet. If he had not already settled his heart on Sif, he would probably have listened to her. Indeed, there was some part of him that wondered if choosing someone like Audha, with political connections and experience to offer, might not be the more prudent choice than a woman who brought nothing new to his kingdom. Yet while Fíli might have gained politically by a match with Audha, it was still true that he lost nothing by marrying a worthy woman of his own clan. And so he could not consider his choice wrong.

"Good night, Your Highness," Audha told him, her eyes holding his for one brief yet intimate moment before she dropped her lashes and looked away, demure once more.

"Good night, my lady."