So Comes Snow After Fire

13.i The Court in All State Now Opens Her Gate

Fíli hummed happily as he polished the newly sharpened blade. It had turned out as well as he had hoped, this little knife with a polished handle fitted seamlessly into a matching sheath. Small enough to wear hidden in clothing or a boot, it was, perhaps, a rather intimate gift, since she might carry it closer than she could him, for now. Even so, he would have to wait patiently to give it to her.

There was no doubt in Fíli's mind that he wished to court Sif. She had a warm, sweet temperament, with a hidden boldness that could surprise one—indeed, had surprised him. Her old shyness was not fully gone—she would always be reserved in some ways—but that little spark of conviction that had once prompted her to wish him well on the quest had flourished under his attention and become a still sureness that he admired and cherished.

But he could not declare himself yet, not with six envoys arriving within the week for the Council of Seven Kingdoms. The envoys honored Fíli's own request to make the acquaintance of worthy noblewomen of their clans, and so to have committed his attentions elsewhere before their arrival would be terribly rude. It would hardly do to offend those whom his uncle expected to engage in treaties and alliances.

Nor could he make a promise to Sif in secret. It seemed hardly fair to offer her an assurance that he could not yet honor in his public actions. To ask her to hope in a private, unwitnessed promise while he paid open attention to other women seemed cruel and dishonorable treatment of a young lady who deserved much better from him. And so in these past few weeks, he had tried to restrain himself from expressing all that he felt for her, lest she expect more than he could yet offer.

Sometimes it had been very hard indeed not to reveal himself with a careless endearment or a gesture, particularly when she caught him with some unexpected, unintentional charm. Indeed, Fíli was coming close to dreading time spent with her because of how careful he found he had to be not to betray his own deep affection. Nevertheless, he could not make himself go out of his way to avoid her in moments like this as, leaving his workshop, he found her splashing her face in one of the fountains built for that purpose in the midst of the hallway.

It was hardly a surprise to see her here. The Ironsides' family forge was in the same work hall as Fíli's own. Sif, he had been surprised to learn, followed her father and brother in the working of iron and steel. Before he had known her, he would have guessed her craft to be weaving or painting, something sedate instead of the raw, physical work of hammer and anvil. And yet he now felt her craft was suited well to the sharpness and strength he had glimpsed in her often enough.

As he reached her, she looked up from drying her face and then smiled as she recognized him. One damp curl clung to her cheek, still flushed from her work, and her lashes and beard were wet. Though she was dressed simply in leather apron and a plain work shirt with the sleeves rolled up, Fíli found her more arrestingly lovely than any lady arrayed in silks and jewels.

"Fíli!" she cried happily, and he was pleased to note that she now considered him close enough to require no greeting beyond that. She had dropped "your highness" long ago, yet he had still been some time trying to convince her she could dispense with empty pleasantries and simply address him directly.

"What have you been working on today?" he asked her.

"Oh, finishing up a few models of Freyr's new axe blade designs; he wants to sign a trade deal at the council." She sighed. "I'm glad he's the one drafting contracts, not me!"

Fíli smiled. If she could overcome her aversion to crowded meetings—which he began to suspect stemmed from impatience as much as any real shyness—he supposed she could be as good at driving a bargain as her father or brother. She was remarkably shrewd.

"And what of you?" she asked. "Whatever you've done, you're pleased with it." As she spoke, she tugged the pin from her upswept hair so that it fell down in a tumble of braids and loose strands, and Fíli was momentarily distracted from her question. As she swept the hair back and reknotted it on her head, she kept her blue eyes expectantly on his and after a few seconds he remembered to answer her.

"I had something to finish before the council, and I did," he told her carefully. "Once everyone arrives, I don't suppose I'll have time to come down here and work."

Sif laughed sympathetically. "I envy you less than my brother. Though perhaps I shall rethink my claim soon enough. I'm sure he'll get to see you more often than I." A little color touched her cheeks at this last direct admission of how much she would miss him while he was busy with his diplomatic responsibilities.

Fíli nodded, hoping her brother was the only one she thought to be jealous of. "Just imagine me sitting at the council talks, gradually sinking into a drooling stupor, and you won't miss anything," he teased.

"I can't—" Sif laughed. "You wouldn't! Not with so many important people to impress."

"What? You don't think a few snores would inspire complete confidence in me as a future king of Erebor?" Fíli protested in mock surprise.

Grinning at him, she shook her head.

"Perhaps you're right," he agreed, barely stopping himself before he reached out to brush the stray curl from her cheek. He did, however, shoulder her satchel, which she had set down beside the fountain; any well-bred young man would have done so, and he would have felt wrong not to.

"You must be nervous," Sif remarked as they walked back towards the residential areas.

"Maker's forge, yes," he admitted, telling her readily what he had not been able to say to Thorin or even Kíli. "Sif, they're going to be evaluating me as much as they will Uncle. I've met the envoys from the Firebeards and Broadbeams before, back in Ered Luin, but the rest of them? This is the first time they'll ever have seen me."

"You're a prince and a hero; how can they fail to be impressed?" Sif told him gently.

Fíli smiled at the warm assurance in her tone. "I think that's why I'm worried; what if I'm not what they're looking for?"

"Fíli," she said deliberately, stepping in front of him so that he had to stop. "Do you think you have proved nothing yet? You really are those things. And—" She smiled. "You look them, too. You are very— That is—" Her face had gone crimson. "I mean, no one could doubt you are Durin's rightful heir, any more than Thorin is."

Fíli could not stop his smile. "Thank you," he told her earnestly. "I will remember that."

"Good," Sif said, spinning on her heel and walking ahead. "Because if you do not, I shall have to do something very foolish indeed to remind you."

Fíli laughed as he followed her, wondering how this once-quiet young woman had learned flirt in a way that put his own little brother to shame.