So Comes Snow After Fire

18.ii

It was some hours after dinner before Fíli was able to get away from congratulatory councilmen and friends and make his way to the Ironsides' dwelling. Indeed, it was late enough now that, had he been coming on any less urgent matter, he would have put it off till the next day. But he could not make Sif wait that long.

Yet despite the hour, Lord Ironsides was still out when Fili arrived, and so it was Freyr, Sif's brother, who welcomed him. Freyr did not seem at all surprised by Fíli's request to speak to his sister, though he cautioned, "She may not be able to see you."

"Please," Fíli urged, "Tell her I bring good news."

Freyr nodded, and then stared at Fíli, no doubt wondering whether to protect his sister now against the one who had already hurt her. Soon, however, Freyr's eyes softened, and after gesturing for Fíli to wait in a room off the entrance hall, he left to find Sif.

Fíli stood stiffly in the parlor, not really seeing any of the rich furnishings—the ornate braziers, gilded lamps, a jeweled tapestry depicting the history of the Ironsides house. His mind's eye held only Sif, her face tear-stained and soot-smudged, and he very nearly hated himself for being the cause of her unhappiness. How had he thought he was going to live with himself after disappointing her so cruelly?

As the minutes passed, Fíli became more and more impatient. He did not wish to draw out Sif's sorrow and uncertainty one moment longer; why did she not come? Was she finally angry with him in earnest? Couldn't she trust him now? Or, worst of all, was she simply too miserable to permit seeing him on any account?

Fíli was weighing how rude it would be for him, a guest, to go and seek out his host again when Freyr came back through the parlor's inner door. A few moments later, Sif followed him with reluctant steps. Her face was clean and dry, but her eyes were still swollen from recent tears.

"Fíli?" she asked cautiously. She held her skirts clenched in her hands, as if readying herself to flee.

"I had to come tell you: I'm free to court you now," Fíli told her simply.

Her face lightened, though her expression was still disbelieving.

"But the Blacklocks..." Sif protested softly. "Didn't you have to agree—"

"Kíli settled that for me."

Sif continued to stare at him, so Fíli went on, "Sif, there's nothing to prevent us now. I mean to declare my suit."

She did lift her skirts and run to him then, and Fíli caught her.

"Oh Fíli, I thought surely I'd lost you this time," she whispered, pressing her head to his shoulder.

"I thought I'd lost you." Fíli glanced once at Freyr, seeking permission to go on holding Sif, but Freyr no longer seemed defensive of his sister.

"Sif, forgive me for causing you pain," Fíli said, stroking her hair lightly.

"It's all right." She held him tight against her. "Fíli, it's all right now."

Sif let go and looked up at him. She was smiling, the ready, joyful smile she had often given him before.

"I'll talk to your father tomorrow," Fíli said. "It's probably a little late tonight."

"A little late to talk to me about what?"

Fíli turned to see Lord Ironsides himself standing in the doorway which opened on the entrance hall. His keen, assessing gaze was fixed on the young prince.

"I want to court your daughter," Fíli said as Sif stepped back from him to a more respectful distance, though she kept one hand tightly clasped in his.

"I believe Sif has been in some very real distress lately on your account," Lord Ironsides returned. While Fíli supposed this fact might be a point in his favor, right now it surely seemed to count against him.

"Adad," Sif protested, but Fíli knew he must respond to her father's charge.

"It's true, much to my regret," he confessed.

Lord Ironsides clearly waited for an explanation, so Fíli went on.

"I tried to protect her. I knew I couldn't formalize my suit before the envoys arrived with their daughters to introduce, and I thought it would be wrong to give Sif a promise I could not honor openly. But I still disappointed her, and for that I am very sorry. I never meant to hurt Sif."

"I see."

"I've now paid every attention to our guests that duty requires, and I'm no longer expected to buy a vote with a marriage. I am free at last to openly declare my intent before Sif, and you, and all of Erebor." Whatever Sif's father had first thought of Fili's conduct, Fíli hoped it was clear now that he had always meant to honor her.

Lord Ironsides' expression eased then. "I've known you from a boy, and you always were a good lad," he said. "Yes, you may court my daughter."

"Thank you, your lordship," Fíli returned, and bowed.

Lord Ironsides regarded his daughter and the prince a while longer, his expression almost fond. Then he left, and Freyr followed.

"Fíli..." Sif looked up at him, her smile shy now. Fíli wondered if she were embarrassed, as he was, remembering the previous night's kiss. He knew he surely would never have kissed her so boldly had he thought he would get more than that one chance.

Taking her face gently in his hands, Fíli pressed his lips once to her cheek. "Let's go a little more slowly this time," he said.

Sif merely beamed at him in reply.

"I've a gift for you—I made it nearly a month ago!—but I didn't think to bring it tonight," Fíli told her. "I suppose I'll have to return again tomorrow."

"Please do."

Then Sif caught him about the waist again and stood leaning against him in silence. As Fíli tucked his face down against her hair, he noticed she still smelled lightly of forge fires, as well as of some warm, resinous perfume.

"Fíli," she said eventually. "You said your brother settled things with the Blacklocks. Do you mean..."

"Kíli is making the marriage treaty they asked for," Fíli explained.

"Oh." She looked up, her expression troubled again. "Poor Kíli! I am very sorry he and Tauriel could not..."

"So am I."

"He did it for us, right? The political marriage?"

"Yes."

"Then I will be sure to thank him," Sif resolved, brushing at damp eyes.

"Don't cry," Fíli instructed. "You seem to have done enough of that already."

"I know," she said with an ironic little laugh. "I promise, I do have enough to make me very happy now."

"Good." Fíli kissed her brow and let her go. "I'll come see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Fíli."

"Goodnight, my dear Sif."