Tumgik
#pup herself had a few tears that could have used repair but really not in bad shape at all
televinita · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media
The washed-out card indicates that this toy is “handcrafted from Persian lamb’s wool and velvet, 1958.”
I wanted very badly to take this sweet plush poodle home, despite its price tag of $30 (and that was with the final-day discount), but I have neither the space nor the proper skill to to keep her in nice shape, and oh I am going to be sorry about that for a while. I’m not sure if the photo does her justice, or if she’s only beautiful to me, but I think she would look so good on an old chair in a Victorian house, perhaps a Summit Avenue mansion. So I’m going to imagine that somehow, some way, a person who lives in one of those made their way out to this rinkydink split-level in the suburbs and swept her away after all.
2 notes · View notes
border-spam · 3 years
Text
Leech Lord - Beginnings and regrets
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The single least Seifa thing Seifa has ever done, is probably also the most actual Seifa thing she's ever done, and that's extremely Seifa of her.
It was going against every lesson survival had beaten into her so far in her life, and helping Tyreen instead of walking away all those years ago.
Tumblr media
(Pre CoV)
Pandora is a terrible place.
The whole Galaxy is, Pandora just has a reputation that's honest about it.
The Edens, Athenas, Promethea, Tantalus, every city on every settled planet is built on a foundation of bones, nowhere's really safe or actually wants the humans that settled uninvited and ruined the neighborhood. Can't really expect an ecosystem to welcome you with open arms when you immediately start destroying it for profit, and life ain't easy anywhere. Nowhere is good. Nowhere is nice.
You can't live for long without finding out how dangerous "caring" is.
Small family units survive, yeah, clans scrabble out a living on rock plains and migrant space-rigs, but if you hold out a hand to a stranger in need you need to know the risks, need to really understand how likely it is that there's a knife behind their back and a couple of crosshairs already trained on you.
You have to be harsh, you have to be cruel. Everyone who makes it on the border planets knows the unwritten rules.
Unless you've the backing of a town militia or a hell of a lot of weaponry, you can't afford to risk your own safety for others - and Sei has walked past more people who gasped out a desperate plea for help with one of the few breaths they had left then she could ever, ever let herself acknowledge. Fuck man, everyone has. It's one of the sad truths of living at the knifepoint everyone balances on out here at the fringe.
...It's no different really on the corporate ones, the blades waiting to land in your back are just better dressed there.
So, when Seifa went to walk away from that filthy kid in the junkyard with the busted SMG and found herself stopping as the girl pleaded for medicine, that was beyond out of character.
That was weird. That was impossible to justify, and she lost plenty of nights to trying to do so after - long ones, with tears and far too much whiskey.
It's hard to think back on, how unsettling and stomach turning that first month had been. The whole thing feels like a blur, some grease smeared memory that's mostly lost to the desperately anxious conflict that was going on in her head the entire time. She can remember specific points, but they're half images half feeling, nerves and worry all tangled together into something she hates dwelling on.
She remembers the heat mirages swirling above the desert sands as Elpis set on the horizon, driving the girl out across the salt flats as Ty panicked and urged Sei to go faster, all while she was trying to explain to herself WHY she hadn't slapped this stranger out of her buggy and throttled in the opposite direction. What had gotten into her?
She doesn't remember anything that the kid had said as she was lead by her into that dark shack, still battling with why she wasn't turning around, why she was gingerly picking through debris to reach what looked like a hastily set up camp surrounded by rusting sheet metal and pieces that used to be the hovel - but she remembers the stink of fever sweat that wrinkled her nose and that sad mound of sharp angles heaped at the center by a burnt out fire pit, and the shock of realising it was a man when Tyreen had dropped to her knees and begged through sobs for him to keep breathing.
That she had "Found someone to help."
Recalls fighting back the equal disgust she felt with herself for helping carry the nothing he weighed out of that shithole, and for the fact he was still alive in this state. Covered in filth, blood, chunks of.. something, and reeking of puke and god knows what else. How she chewed at her lip till she tasted copper as the buggy engine rattled in complaint under them, flooring it when she knew the shoddy weld job on the left axle wasn't going to take this strain and would need another couple of hundred dollars she didn't have in repairs by the time she got these pathetic kids back to her ship - and she remembers wincing hours later at her empty medical cabinet after gutting it to keep the boy alive.
Saline stock sucked dry, bactum wasted, and she was saving those health kits for when she might need them...
It was a bad decision. It was a stupid decision, and she'd spent that first night when the girl had cried herself to sleep and he'd finally stabilised, sitting on the cold floor of her quarters with her back pressed against the repurposed mag-lock door, cradling her pistol in her lap as she gnawed at her nails.
They were Sirens.
Sirens.
Moron. Stupid fucking twat, If Boss found out, he'd kill her before these two could get the chance.
Helping them had been idiot move enough, had gone against every fiber of who she'd built herself into, but she couldn't have known. Tyreen had been covered in rags, and Troy's markings too dim and caked in muck to even see before they'd gotten him cleaned up and stable.
She hadn't known. She didn't know, nothing about Sirens anyway, just that you didn't fuck with 'em in the first place. Sirens were bad news, Sirens were the bane of Pandora in the last few years and everyone knew the stories. They were monsters who could turn you inside out or roast you alive without needing to point a gun first, and now she had two in her home with no defenses bar a shitty Jacobs she knew damn well she could barely aim, and hopefully enough faux confidence to seem in control of the situation.
That first night had been the worst.
The twins slept fine, Troy out cold and Ty having cried herself unconscious shortly after his heart beat had become something possible to confuse with normal if you squinted at the scan display from the right angle, but Sei didn't close her eyes once.
Sat awake all night in the clunking, humming, rattling silence of her home as she thumbed the revolver's cylinder slowly, considering how each click marked another second she'd left them both alive instead of doing the right thing and emptying a round into each of their skulls. Pandora would take care of the bodies and she'd fix a serious mistake she was walking straight into... but the suns rose in the end, and the twins were none the wiser about how close the decision had actually been.
It didn't really get better. The fear did, that passed over the next couple of days, but not the worry, not the regret. Two more mouths to feed when she only had the funds for herself? The girl was going to have to learn how to work. The cash she'd put aside was for her junker colony, not strangers, and the boy still couldn't even stand... and how were things going to pan out even if they so far didn't seem to be quite as monstrous as she'd been told so many times in no name dive bars in settler towns?
What if she took Tyreen out on a barter run and her markings got noticed? That mad corporate fuckwad Sexy George or fuckin whatever had just been running some reward scheme for Sirens, right? Would the lowbrows she dealt with on a daily basis here comprehend that wasn't a thing anymore, or would Sei be shanked and Ty abducted within hours of setting foot in a trade dock?
And him...
What the fuck was she going to do with him.
He wouldn't talk, wouldn’t even look at her, just some massive, gangly, awkward, nervous child that ghosted around the edge of her vision and scurried out of the room like a panicked Skag pup if she made the mistake of looking directly at him.
Sick still, even if he was trying to stay in his crew cubby for less every day, the one she'd told him was his and still had not a word of thanks for yet. Shaky, delicate, and in no physical condition to be able to help around the ship yet alone have a chance of bringing in some extra dollars, even if he hadn't been missing such a huge chunk of himself. Pity wasn't going to keep him fed, and she was pissed with herself for feeling it for him in the first place.
She figured that's what had done it really... them being siblings.
That raw desperation in Tyreen's voice as she'd begged Seifa to help when she'd turned to walk away. That her brother was so sick and she didn't know what to do. Siblings gut punched her in ways she knew were a weakness out here. The twin thing? That had just cemented it really. Helping wasn't in Seifa's nature, but leaving kids to die wasn't in her bones.
Still, she'd make it work, she always did. They'd survive, and she'd come out of this in profit one way or another, that was as sure as an Athenian monk lowballing an offer.
She'd train the girl up and run some deals with her, cover the costs of helping them out with a tidy margin for herself - then she'd leave 'em with the tools to survive, a couple of hundred bucks to get started and never have to see them again.
She'd be fine. She was always fine.
That's very Seifa of her.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Asks are Open!
21 notes · View notes
headoverheelss · 3 years
Text
The group of ninjas ran to Hana’s body after they were free from the barrier that held them back. She was laying in a pool of her own blood. There was a gash on her side. Akito had stabbed her pretty good before Hana was finally able to stop him. 
Kakashi was having trouble breathing. Here was his pup on the brink of death because she had to sacrifice her own life to protect everybody else, to protect him. He couldn’t do this. 
Gai noticed that Kakashi stopped running with the rest of them.
“Kakashi what’s wrong?” Gai walked towards him. He cupped Kakashi’s face with his hand.
“I can’t do this Gai. I can’t watch her die.” Tears were flowing down his face.
Gai pulled Kakashi’s forehead to his. 
“Rival, I know how scared you might be right now. I know I’m terrified right now but we promised when we adopted Hana that we would be with her always. And right now she needs us. So whenever you’re ready, we’ll go over together okay?” Gai held out his hand to Kakashi. 
Kakashi took a breath. Gai was right. Their daughter needed them. Kakashi took hold of Gai’s hand and both of them ran towards Hana and the group.
Rin was trying her hardest to heal Hana but the girl’s body was mutilated beyond repair. Hana had already lost so much blood already. 
Rin could feel herself getting frustrated. This was no time to lose concentration. 
Hana was still conscious surprisingly but she could feel herself slipping away. 
“Rin..rin..” Hana’s voice was scratchy. 
“Hana! Don’t exert yourself.” Rin was using her medical voice on Hana. 
“Rin,,it’s okay. You can stop.” Hana heard the collective cry of dissent from the group surrounding her. 
Rin looked at Hana. This went on for a second before Rin relented. The medic went to stand by Obito. 
“What’s wrong! Why did you stop?” Kiba was angry. 
“Kiba. It’s alright there was nothing more she could do for me.” Hana could feel herself struggling to talk. 
Kakashi and Gai moved closer to Hana. They both knelt down by their daughter. 
“Hey pup.” Kakashi smiled sadly at Hana. 
“I’m so sorry, Kakashi.” Hana was crying. 
“No, no darling don’t cry. You have nothing to apologize about okay.” Gai took his daughter’s hand. 
“Your Dad is right pup. We’re so proud of you.” Kakashi stroked Hana’s hair out of the way. 
“Stay with me.” Hana was scared. 
“Always.” 
Kakashi’s statement was echoed by the group. 
Hana looked at every person. They all became her family in the couple of years she lived in Konoha. And she even got her Suna family back too. She took a few seconds to remember Baki. She would be seeing him soon though. 
“Gaara, Kankuro, and Temari. Promise me that you guys will take care of eachother.” 
Gaara nodded his head. Tears started to fall from his face. Kankuro gave Hana a look like he would never dare to leave his siblings. Temari held onto Shikamaru’s hand and gave a nod. 
“Lee, Kiba, and Shikamaru take care of them and treat them respectfully like I know they’ll treat you.”
The three shinobi’s gave her a salute and went over to console their partners. 
“Asuma you better treat Kurenai correctly or I’ll come back and haunt your ass.” 
“Don’t you worry, Hana. I got this one.” Kurenai gave a teary laugh. 
Hana smiled and continued to talk to the rest of the group. She told Obito and Rin that they better get married. Obito promptly turned red but promised Hana he would. Rin was already crying heavily on Obito’s shoulder, frustrated that she couldn’t save her closest friend.
Next she told Inoichi, Shikaku, and Choza, thank you for being the best adopted uncles a girl could ask for. Hinata and Shino were told to take care of eachother. 
Naruto and Kiba were told that they were her best cousins and to tell Aunt Kushina, Aunt Tsume, and Uncle Minato that she loves them. 
Hana told Tenten and Neji thank you for all the training practice they give her and she wishes them luck in whatever they decide to do in their future. 
Ino and Sakura were told that the sleepovers the three had were probably the best nights of her life. The girls all shared one last laugh.
Hana thanked Choji, Sai, and Rock Lee were told thank you for all the times they went out to eat and the cool restaurants they visited. 
Hana gave stern instructions to Sasuke about how to treat Naruto. Sasuke gave her a firm nod.
The Legendary Sannin were individually thanked for not only training Hana to her highest potential but for also being her Grandparents. Something she never had before. Lady Tsunade was ashamed of herself. She was unable to heal Hana because of damage taken in a fight earlier.
Finally there was Genma, Kakashi, and Dad.
“Genma, I really am sorry. I wish.. I just..” Hana wanted to say I love you but it got stuck in her throat.
Genma smiled at her.
“I love you forever and always. And I promise you that we will meet again and it will be like we never left each other.”
With those words, Hana felt like she wanted to stay so bad but the pain in her body was spreading and she knew it could never be.
“I’ll hold you to that promise.”
Kakashi could see the life starting to drain from her eyes. He moved to cradle his daughter against his chest.
Gai moved in front of Hana as Kakashi held her up.
“Dad and Kakashi thank you for being the best parents to me. I love you guys so much and please don’t feel any regret or guilt. This was my choice.”
Hana’s eyes were starting to close.
“It’s alright pup, we’ll be fine. Rest now, you deserve it.”
Just then something enveloped Hana’s body. Something that didn’t feel like Death bringing her home.
Bonus:
The smell of blood everywhere.
People screaming. So tired.
So very tired.
“HANA!”
“HANA!”
Hana sprang up off her bed, throwing the covers off in the process. Her brain was moving at a mile a minute.
There was war. She fought in it. She killed Akito but she was injured badly to the point were she should be dead.
Hana’s hands moved around her body checking for injuries.
so is this heaven?
The room Hana was in looked like a regular apartment. She stood up and walked to the window. 
Hana gasped. Outside the sun was shining on an intact Leaf Village. Citizens were walking up and down the streets. Kids were laughing together and playing ninja. There weren’t dead bodies on the ground or destroyed buildings. 
She took one step back from the window.
Where am I?
24 notes · View notes
101flavoursofweird · 3 years
Note
For the ten line drabbles, would you do 20 for any combination of Kat, Ernest, and Sherl (either two of them or all three of them together)? Thank you!
[[Apologies, this ended up being more than ten lines and didn’t even include the quote, though it definitely inspired it! Thank you for giving me the chance to finally write a fic about my Sherl theory!]]
20. “If you feel safer with me being there, you know I will always be there.”
“Aurora, our messenger, do you wish for this human to be reborn as a beast?”
“Yes, please. He has brought a great deal of suffering upon the world and to the fabric of time. And he hurt the professor… Also, can you take away his memories, like you did for me?”
“We were able to accomplish that as you were an Azran golem—“
“I was a sentient being with a beating heart. Surely you can do this same for this man?”
“…Very well. We will grant your wish.”
Kat had gone out for dinner with her inspector brother and her chef sister, leaving Ernest and Sherl to ‘manage’ the agency by themselves. (Or rather, stall any clients until Kat got back.)
Sherl thought this would be the perfect time for a dognap, but then Pipstripes decided to switch on the television while he was dusting.
Uuugh, that stupid black box! Why did Kat have to bring it in here, and place it on the drawers right above Sherl’s bed? Why couldn’t she find another way entertain herself when it was raining cats and dogs outside?
Sherl covered his ears as the droning voice of a news reader came on.
“—on this day, seven years ago, that the St. Herald Hotel collapsed during one of the worst storms in British history—“
“Who cares what happened seven years ago?” Sherl groaned. “That’s... forty years ago for a dog...”
“Shush, Sherl,” Ernest said, his gaze glued to the television.
“—While the establishment had received five star ratings in the past, it was undergoing maintenance work at the time, making some rooms unstable—“
“That thing will rot your brain,” Sherl warned. You would never catch Sherl gawking at a screen.
He couldn’t see in full colour anyway...
For him, it was mainly grey with some shades of blue and yellow. Pinstripes stood out like a sore thumb with his waistcoat and his trousers. Sherl could distinguish Kat’s yellow coat and her hat, but her dress just looked... dull. (Kat had nearly thrown a fit when Sherl told her this.)
As far as Sherl could tell, the news reader was a lady with long blonde hair, a grey suit and a solemn expression.
“All of the hotel staff and guests were able to escape, expect for one—“
“Poor sod,” Sherl snorted.
“—Former Prime Minister, Bill Hawks.”
Sherl’s ears perked up. “Who?”
“Shhhhh!”
“Did she say Prime Minister?” Sherl persisted. He stumbled out of his bed to get a closer look at the T.V.— at the photo of the man the news people had put up.
He was probably in his late fifties or early sixties, judging by his balding head, deep frown lines, droopy eyes and glasses... Sherl squinted, wondering if dogs could get glasses.
“Yes— from about twenty years ago,” Pinstripes informed him, frowning slightly. “If you listen, they’re going to talk about his life soon...”
Talk about him they did. Bill Hawks: Born in London, squeaked his way in to university, became a scientist at the Institute of Poly-something or other... until there was an explosion at the lab he worked in. An explosion, it turned out, that Hawks had caused with an experiment gone awry.
Sherl hummed. “Why does that sound so familiar?”
“The... explosion?” Pinstripes fiddled with the end of his feather duster. “It sounds like something out of a sci-fi film, doesn’t it?” He closed his eyes for a moment. “But it really did happen, over thirty years ago... and there were terrible repercussions ten years after. You might have heard Miss Layton discussing it...”
Sherl shook his head. He would have remembered if Kat had mentioned something like that. His short term memories were clear as crystal. It was his long term memories that were murky— at least, those prior to joining the Layton Detective Agency.
All he could remember from his past life was a tower falling down, and lightning flashing across the sky... but with each passing day, the details felt less precise and less important. Kat seemed to have given up on solving his case of amnesia altogether!
“Oh...” Pinstripes glanced out the window and back at Sherl. “Do you— surely you know about the Mobile Fortress attack? From a man called Clive Dove?”
For some reason, that name made Sherl shudder. Still, he answered, “No...”
“He tried to destroy London? There were crushed buildings and a gaping tear left in the ground?” Pinstripes said, his eyes wide with disbelief. “It took them years to repair—“
“I might seem older than you kids,” Sherl interrupted, “but I can’t have been alive for more than six or seven years.” He was a ‘mature dog’ (according to the vet), but that couldn’t compare to a human lifespan. Kat’s grandmother, Rosa, was in her seventies!
Pinstripes waved his hand. “Right, sorry... Anyway, Clive Dove was put in prison— thanks to Miss Layton’s father— and he remains there to this day.”
“Good,” Sherl huffed. “Sounds like this Dove was barking!”
“That’s really not funny...”
“What made him go round the bend?”
Ernest winced. “He, um... he wanted to get revenge... because his parents died in that lab explosion.”
Sherl stuck out his teeth. “But if Bill Hawks was behind the explosion... then why didn’t Dove just go after him? Why take it out on everyone—?”
“I don’t know!” Ernest dropped the feather duster. He sighed heavily and crouched to pick it up. Turning his back on Sherl, he resumed his dusting around the television.
The news reader was exposing more about Bill Hawks; by sweeping his crimes under the rug and making shady deals, Hawks had climbed the political ladder to the very top.
Then he was kidnapped by one of his former scientist colleagues and taken to an underground fake ‘Future London’...
“So that’s what she meant...” Sherl breathed. When he’d first arrived at the agency, Kat had asked if he had a ‘letter from the future’. Had her father been sent such a letter?
Sherl’s heart pounded at the next part of the news report. Clive Dove had imprisoned Bill Hawks in the Mobile Fortress, using Bill’s heartbeat to power the machine... That was intense!
Fortunately for Hawks, Professor Layton had saved him and shut down the fortress.
After they all escaped, Hawks had ensured Dove was arrested, put on trial immediately, and locked up for life.
During Dove’s trial, however, Hawks’ disreputable past had been brought to light. Hawks wasn’t put behind bars, but he had to pay a lot of compensation money for the victims of the institute explosion and for the Mobile Fortress attack.
A clip from an interview was shown— a man from Barkleys Bank described Hawks’ loss of financial backers as his approval ratings dropped. (Poor Barkleys, having to represent Bill Hawks...)
Disgraced, Bill had resigned from his post as prime minister and disappeared from the public eye. His wife had divorced him and he had started mooching off his parents’ inheritance.
“Good-for-nothing fat-cat...” Sherl grumbled. You wouldn’t catch his pups leeching off their families like that. When Kat’s father went missing, she had set up a detective agency. When Ernest’s mother died, he had worked his way up to university— and taken an unpaid job on top of that!
Sherl hoped there were assassination attempts made on Hawks’ life after everything he had done.
But no... It seemed that the world had forgotten about Bill Hawks as soon as he left office.
By all accounts, his death at the St. Herald Hotel had been deemed an accident. He had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time, asleep when the roof above him collapsed.
“...Did he wake up in unbearable pain or did he die peacefully in his sleep?” the news reader lady pondered.
“Oh, come on, woman!” At this point, Sherl was standing on his hind legs with his paws pressed up against the television screen. “I need to know! That skid mark deserved to suffer—!”
“We may never know for certain,” the news reader went on, smiling impassively. “But some might say that justice was served on that day... Thank you for listening! And now, over to Puzzlette for the pollen report...”
“Waste of time...” Sherl flounced away from the television and looked around. He spotted the T.V. remote on the settee. “Turn it off, will you, Pinstripes?”
With a huff, Pinstripes turned off the television. He tossed the remote back on to the settee.
Sherl flicked his tail. “What’s got you so hot under the collar?”
“N-nothing...” Pinstripes crossed his arms as if he was trying to contain something in his chest. Whatever it was— anger, grief or uneasiness— Sherl reckoned Pinstripes wouldn’t be able to hide it for long. (He had broken down the minute Kat accused him of being Lord Adamas.)
“You might as well tell me,” Sherl prompted. “Kat’s out, and it’s not like anyone else can hear...”
Sherl prided himself on being a good secret-keeper. He hadn’t told Kat about Pinstripes’ crush, besides a few snide remarks. He hadn’t turned that street dog, Yapper, over to the pound. And he hadn’t ratted out that mouse who would occasionally nip in to steal Kat’s food...
Pinstripes whispered, “You... you can’t tell Miss Layton. She and her family would hate me...”
“Is it worse than what you did at Richmond Court?” Sherl asked. He made a furtive glance at the door.
“N-no!” Ernest exclaimed, his voice rising a pitch. “It doesn’t even involve me directly... but it does involve... one of my family members.”
Sometimes, Sherl was glad that he couldn’t remember his relatives. He didn’t have to deal with any of that family drama— unless Kat and Ernests’ issues counted as drama.
“Just spit it out,” Sherl growled.
“I... I’m related to Bill Hawks,” Ernest burst out. “Distantly!”
After all the cases Sherl had solved with Kat, that wasn’t too surprising to hear. Sherl cocked his head to the side. “How ‘distant’ are we talking?” He had heard that a lot of Europe’s royal families were related. Did it work the same way with lords and politicians?
“Quite distant... He was my grandfather’s second cousin!” With the cat finally out of the bag, Ernest sighed shakily. He sank on to the settee and tucked his knees under his chin, pulling himself into a tight ball. He looked more like a child than a lanky young man, but then again, he was only nineteen. That was still young by human standards.
“Pinstripes...” Sherl murmured when he heard sniffling. Sherl padded over to the settee and jumped up beside him.
“P-please don’t tell Miss Layton,” Ernest repeated with a whimper. “I nearly— she let me stay... even after what I did. I don’t want to— to hurt her again...”
Knowing Kat, she had probably already discovered the connection between Ernest and Bill Hawks.
It was possible that she had figured out Sherl’s identity as well, but she was keeping quiet. Honestly... Sherl didn’t really mind at that moment.
What would he do if he knew about his past? Track down his family? Would they even be able to understand him? And what if he had left his loved ones on bad terms? He would struggle to make amends with them, and they might be even more upset.
It wasn’t like he could return to his old job, either... unless it involved police work, assisting people with disabilities, or herding sheep. There was always performing— who didn’t love a good dog act?  
But even then, it would be lonely if he couldn’t communicate with anyone.
At least if he stayed here, at the Layton Detective Agency, he could make a difference. He would do his best to help their clients... as well as Ernest and Kat.
Sherl curled up next to Ernest on the settee. After a while, Ernest’s sniffs stopped and he started stroking Sherl’s head.
Maybe one day they would find a way to transform animals into humans... but until then, Sherl didn’t mind being a detective’s dog. There were fates far worse than this.
13 notes · View notes
specialagentsnark · 4 years
Text
Marriage of Convenience - Chapter 3
Happy Fili Friday everyone! Here’s chapter 3! Leave me a comment with your thoughts!
Summary:
Fili's sick of courtship challenges and takes a chance to get to Dale, only to give Sigrid a bit of a helping hand and then a gift.
Midsummer Festival is here, including a swordsmanship competition.
A little flirting ensues.
Notes:
Mention of attempted assault (nothing graphic). Please read accordingly.
Chapter 3
Another dwarrowdam fell to Dwalin’s superior skill. How many was this now? Six? Seven? Fili didn’t feel like keeping count. It didn’t help that Kili thought the entire situation was hilarious and took every moment he had reminding Fili of that. So, when Thorin asked for one of them to go to Dale to check on the progress for the midsummer festival the Men were holding, Fili volunteered with enthusiasm.
Anything to get him away from courtship trials and the doe eyes his brother kept casting at the ever-present she-elf. He had nothing against her, but the lovey-dovey gooey romantic nonsense was driving him insane.
Knowing Sigrid was involved in the planning, Fili entered Dale with the intention of going straight to her home. After stabling his pony and asking directions, he set off toward the center of town. As he walked, he heard snippets of gossip. He’d been around Nori too much, he thought even as he eavesdropped on the two women walking in front of him as unobtrusively as possible. Any information had potential, the spymaster always said, so Fili listened.
“I’ve seen them together almost every day since he arrived a fortnight ago,” the younger said. “Her Ladyship is smitten with him.”
“And who can blame the girl?” the older woman demanded with a huff. “The man is rather something to look at.”
The first sighed. “Lady Sigrid is lucky to have caught his regard.”
“She’s rather pretty herself. It’s surprising she hasn’t married already.”
“She is rather picky.”
“Doesn’t seem to matter this time though. I expect they’ll announce a betrothal within the month.”
The first sighed. “Wouldn’t that be something? Our own Lady married and to such a handsome gentleman. Their children would be sure to be beautiful.”
Sigrid was seeing a suitor? Often enough her people were expecting a betrothal? Why hadn’t he heard about this in the mountain? Nori was slipping if it really was that serious. If Sigrid married her suitor, it could impact Erebor, or at least his people that sold wares in the market in Dale. She was the only member of her family that took the time to talk to the dwarrow, or so he’d heard. His people liked her and were more than willing to work with her. If she left, who would they go to? Who would he talk to when he came to the city? He’d be without his friend.
A scuffle pulled him from his thoughts a few blocks from where he was told Sigrid’s house was. Curious, and admittedly wondering if he could join in a fight to work off some of his inexplicable but completely justified annoyance, he turned down the street toward the noise.
“Get away from me.”
Fili paused. That sounded like Sigrid.
“I think you misunderstood me My Lady.” The voice was male. Fili frowned harder at the placating tone to it.
“I misunderstood nothing. Get. Away.”
Something hit a wall and there was a grunt.
“You really shouldn’t have done that,” the male voice said.
Fili rounded the bend at the end of the street quickly. His earlier irritation roared into a hot storm in his chest. Sigrid strained against the man holding her wrists down by her waist and standing so close she couldn’t land a kick of any force.
“What’s going on here?” Fili barked.
“Get lost dwarf,” the man said, glancing at him. “This doesn’t concern you.”
“Not from where I’m-”
Sigrid leaned back as far as she could against the wall and lunged forward, smashing her forehead into her captor’s nose, a crunch interrupting Fili. He lurched away from her, his hands going to his broken nose.
“-standing.” Fili finished. “I suggest you leave immediately,” he added and extended a hand to Sigrid even as she started moving toward him.
“I told you to get lost,” the man said, still holding his nose with one hand, ignoring the blood dripping down his chin. He reached out to grab Sigrid’s arm and drag her back.
Fili darted forward. He lashed out with his cane, bringing it down hard on the man’s arm with a solid thwack. The man yelped and Sigrid darted to stand near Fili. Still brandishing his cane as he would one of his swords, Fili stepped so he stood in front of the girl. He reached inside his coat and pulled out one of his many daggers, feeling more secure with an actual blade in hand, even if it was short. “And I told you to leave,” Fili said coolly, ignoring the pain darting up his bad leg. He waited, watching the Man until he finally turned and stalked up the alley, blood still dripping from his nose.
“Next time you break someone’s nose to get away,” Fili said as he sheathed his knife and leaned on his cane again, “try actually running.”
Sigrid glared at him, one hand clutching at her lower ribcage. “You try running while wearing a corset and a dress this heavy,” she snapped. “I can barely breathe while I walk, let alone fight or run. Besides, you were here so I didn’t need to.”
Fili turned to face her fully. The tremor in her voice didn’t reassure him even though she acted fine otherwise. It reminded him too much of when Bilbo got upset.
“Are you all right Lady Sigrid?” he asked.
“No, I’m not,” she said and her voice cracked a bit. She rubbed at her eyes with the heels of her hands. “Thank you for coming when you did.”
“You know me,” he said and reached up to place a hand on her shoulder. “I’m the master of heroic rescues.”
Sigrid laughed wetly and sniffed, wiping more tears from her eyes. “I seem to remember you tackling an orc for me once.”
“Exactly what I mean,” Fili said, smiling at her. When the tears didn’t stop, he lifted his other arm out to his side, leaving himself open for a hug if she wanted it. Sigrid bent and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his shoulder. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Fili asked.
“No,” Sigrid said, voice muffled by the fur on his jacket. “I don't know as he would have. I think he just wanted to steal some kisses.”
“I'm glad you're not hurt,” Fili said. He stood with her until she calmed down, rubbing her back gently until her shoulders stopped shaking and she finally pulled away, retrieving a handkerchief from a pocket and wiping at her eyes and nose.
“I’m so sorry,” she said.
“You don’t need to apologize,” Fili said and offered his arm. “Why don’t I escort you home?”
Sigrid nodded, wrapping her hand around his bicep and let him lead her away. “I think I’ll get a dog,” she murmured.
“As I understand it, you’ve been learning to use a sword for over a year now. Why don’t you just carry one? They tend to make a bit less mess around the home than a furry, slobbery menace.”
Sigrid made a very irritated face. “I would but ever since one of my suitors went running at the very sight of a blade on my person my father’s council has forbidden me to carry one on outings such as this one.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Fili said. “Why in Mahal’s name would you carrying a sword scare anyone off?”
“I don’t know how it is for dwarves, but among my people, males are often afraid of or offended by women wielding swords. Heaven forbid we should be able to defend ourselves. I think the people of Rohan are more sensible but I haven’t heard of any others.”
“Ridiculous,” Fili repeated. They walked along in silence for a time and Fili watched the people around them out of habit. He watched as the eyes of a few people followed them, a few whispered conversations cropping up behind them. He wished for Bilbo’s hearing, wanting to know the nature of those conversations and the furtive pointing and head nodding. To distract himself from the sight, he asked, “So, why a dog?”
“I trust a dog’s judgment better than my own. If I train one well enough it can be my guard dog for when my chaperone gets drawn away by feeble excuses as happened today.”
“The council wouldn’t mind you having a large hound at your side on outings?”
Sigrid waved to someone, a fake smile plastered on her face. Fili scowled a little at the sight. Could he get her to laugh or at least smile for real instead of that mockery on her face? “Not if it was well-behaved. There wouldn’t be a reason for me not to have it along with me.”
They fell silent again as they walked the rest of the way to Sigrid’s home. Once there, Sigrid turned to make her farewells only for Fili to tell her of his original errand for being in Dale.
“Oh! Well, then. Come inside. I’ll gather my information on decisions made and we can go over it.”
Fili took a seat in a sitting room where she indicated and sat back to wait for her return. A dog. She wanted a dog. He knew of a few hunters in the mountain that had hounds. Perhaps one of them would know where he could get a pup. It’d been a while since he’d been around dogs but perhaps he could help Sigrid in finding a way to defend herself and perhaps have an excuse to spend time with her. Sigrid’s return pulled him from his musings and together they went over the current plans for the midsummer festival.
~*~*~
Someone knocked on the door first thing the morning of the midsummer festival.
Bard looked up from his breakfast. He rarely ate with his family in the mornings, usually gone to help with repairs and meetings and the minutia of running a city before any of his children woke, except maybe Tilda who had a tendency to wake early as well. “Whatever problem they’re bringing, I don’t want to know about it,” he grumbled. “I’m taking today for my family.”
Sigrid rolled her eyes as she rose from the table and went to the door. “Oh Da, it’s probably just a quick question.” She opened the door and looked down slightly at the dwarf standing on their doorstep.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“I’ve been sent to deliver a package to you My Lady,” the dwarf said, bowing to her. He then bent and picked up a crate sitting at his feet. He held it out to her.
“Ah, thank you,” she said.
“You’re welcome My Lady,” the dwarf said and bowed again. With a cheery whistle, he trotted down the path back to the road and headed towards the market.
“Well that was interesting,” Sigrid said and turned back inside. There was an envelope attached to the top of the crate with her name on it. After closing the door behind her, she balanced the admittedly somewhat heavy crate in one arm and reached for the envelope. Something inside the crate scrabbled sideways, overbalancing it. She dropped it with a scream.
“Sigrid?” Bard asked, leaning back in his chair to get a better look at his daughter.
“Something moved in the crate,” she said. She reached out and snatched up the envelope. She flipped it over and blinked in surprise. “Uh, Da? I think this should probably go to you.”
“Why’s that my girl?” he asked. He stood from the table and walked into the room.
“What’s in the crate Sig?” Bain asked coming into the room with Tilda right behind him.
Sigrid handed the envelope to Bard. “It has the Durin’s royal seal on it,” she said. Bard examined the envelope for a moment before handing it back.
“Has your name on it,” he said. “It’s definitely for you.”
Something scratched at the walls of the crate and Sigrid jumped back from it with a shout.
“Huh,” Bain said and bent to look closer. “I’ll open it, shall I?” He asked and went to find the right tools.
While he left, Sigrid opened the letter, carefully breaking the blue wax seal and pulling the parchment out to read.
To Sigrid, Lady of Dale, Daughter of Bard the Dragonslayer
We spoke of this the other day. I hope this will help put your mind at ease and soon offer the safety you require. I would be happy to help you in your endeavors with proper instruction and care. I’ll meet you on the path to our meeting spot this morning.
-F
PS He’s house trained.
“House trained?” Sigrid mouthed the last two words, wondering what on earth that meant.
“A puppy!”
Sigrid jumped at Tilda’s joyous cry and looked at the now open crate. Inside, a fluffy greyish brown ball scrabbled its way around the cloth-lined box.
“The Dwarf King sent you a dog?” Bard asked. “Why?”
“Not the king,” Sigrid said, a smile slowly spreading across her face as a black muzzle turned its way toward her and two brown eyes blinked up at her from the depths of the masses of fur. “His nephew.”
“Which one?” Bard asked and reached a hand into the crate. The puppy reared up on its hind legs to reach for Bard’s hand, pulling it closer and started nibbling on his fingers. He pulled his hand away sharply. “No biting,” he ordered, giving its nose a little flick. The puppy sneezed and then grinned up at Bard, panting.
“The crown prince,” Sigrid said. She reached down and patted the masses of fluff.
“Fili?” Bard asked. “Why would he send you a dog?”
“Remember when he escorted me home a couple weeks ago after that pox-ridden skamelar attacked me?”
“Aye,” Bard said, his ire rising again at the mention of the suitor that had seemed so nice but had hurt his little girl.
“I’d mentioned thinking about getting a dog to deter such things from happening again to Prince Fili. Apparently, he decided it was a good idea. Oh yes, yes. You’re adorable.” She laughed as the puppy licked at her arms. She lifted it out to examine it. “Little man,” she said after a moment. “What should we call you?”
“He’s yours, Sig,” Bain said. “You name him.” He reached over and patted the dog on the top of the head. It gave out a whiny growl and barked at him. “Hmm… Doesn’t seem to like men,” he muttered.
Sigrid and Tilda laughed, the younger girl petting the ball of fluff as Sigrid looked him over. “Look at the size of his paws. He’s going to be massive,” she said.
Bard sighed. “And he’s a gift from the Crown Prince of Erabor so we can’t get rid of him. Well, good luck my girl,” he said and stood. He went back to the table to finish his breakfast. “We’d better hurry if we’re to make it to the beginning of the festivities.”
“Yes Da,” the three children chorused.
Sigrid offered the puppy some ham from their breakfast before finding a long, sturdy scarf in her closet that she used to fashion a sling out of. Once she was otherwise ready to go, she slipped the puppy into the sling. It popped its head above the cloth and licked her chin before facing forward to watch their surroundings.
Once outside, Sigrid split away from her family and headed straight out of the city, heading towards the path she took up the mountainside. She didn’t get far before someone whistled. She turned to find the source of the noise.
“Your Highness!” she called, waving to Fili as he approached her, leaning slightly on his cane.
“I see you got my gift,” he said with a smile.
Sigrid laughed. “The look on my da’s face was a sight to behold when he saw what was in the crate,” she said.
Fili’s smile stretched wider. “Do you like him then?” he asked, nodding at the dog that watched him from its position in the sling.
“Yes, very much,” Sigrid said. “Although I’m a little worried about how large he will be.”
“I thought you would appreciate a dog that would be easily large enough to make any man hesitate at the sight of him.”
“Just how big will he get?” Sigrid asked, finally coming to a stop as they reached each other. Fili held up a hand that reached the bottom of his ribcage.
“His sire stands this tall at the shoulder on all fours,” he said and Sigrid’s eyes widened.
“Absolutely massive then,” she said.
“I hope I haven’t caused you an inconvenience,” Fili said, concern flashing across his face.
“Oh, no, no you haven’t at all,” Sigrid said. “I just wasn’t expecting such a large size. He’s wonderful.” She laughed as the puppy turned its head and licked her chin again.
“Have you named him then?” Fili asked.
Pulling the puppy from the sling and setting him on the ground where he could run around them, she said, “I think I’ll call him Magnus.”
Fili grinned. “A fierce and noble name for what I’m sure will be a fierce and noble companion.” They watched as the puppy tripped over its front paws while it pursued a butterfly and rolled tail over snout before popping back up and looking back at them as if to say he’d meant to do that all along. “Someday,” Fili added.
Sigrid laughed aloud and chased after the puppy. “Come here, Magnus.”
“I’ll show you how to train him if you’d like,” Fili said once they’d caught the fur ball.
Sigrid buried her nose in Magnus’ fur to hide her shy smile. “I’d like that.”
“I’ll show you the basics for today,” he said. “Can we meet at our spot once a week?”
“Sounds perfect,” she said. “It’ll be something to look forward to when I’m being bored to tears by suitors.”
Fili returned her smile. “Great, let’s get started.” He pulled out a bag full of small chunks of dried meat. “You’ll want to carry something like this everywhere you go with Magnus.”
Sigrid took the pouch and together, they started training the dog, teaching him to pay attention and sit that first day using both vocal commands and hand signals. Fili taught her some khuzdul so others wouldn’t easily be able to give commands.
Sigrid frowned when Fili taught her the phrase for 'watch.' “I thought your language was secret. Won’t people get angry?”
“Your pronunciation is so bad, dwarrow won’t be able to understand you anyway. Don’t worry about it.”
“If you say so.”
After an hour or so of instruction and when Magnus started just laying down at every opportunity, they called it a day for training and Sigrid picked the puppy up and loaded him back into the sling. He didn’t even bother to lift his head out, instead just snuggled in and fell asleep.
“Good boy,” Sigrid said, scratching his fuzzy ears. She looked up at Fili. “It’s early. Would you like to come down to the midsummer festival?”
“I wouldn’t want to impose on your people’s celebration,” he hedged.
Sigrid shook her head. “You wouldn’t be imposing. Please come? It’s been so long since there was a proper festival for my people. It’s sure to be wonderful and I’m sure the vendors from Erebor would feel more secure in their acceptance there if one of their princes were to attend.”
“I’m sure Uncle will appreciate my efforts in solidifying the alliance between our people,” he admitted with a smirk. “All right, I’ll come.”
“Thank you,” Sigrid said.
“Shall we?” Fili asked, indicating the way she’d originally come with his cane and offering his arm on his good side to her. She smiled and took it and together they returned to the main road and reentered Dale.
The festival was in full swing by the time they managed to make their way into the town center. Much of the repair efforts had started at the town center and radiated outward. Most of the buildings here were repaired or completely rebuilt and shone. Banners hung across the streets and fiery reds and bright, sunny yellows, pendants fluttered in the breezes atop buildings and walls, celebrating the summer and the city. Children raced through the crowds laughing and playing games. A few homemade kites flew from the walls, their strings held be eager children. Vendors made a rousing trade both from their stalls and from workers that wandered the crowds with their wares on trays. Fili noted several dwarrow among them and among those present to enjoy the festivities. Entertainers of both races weaved their ways through the crowds as well, juggling, breathing fire, telling stories, even a few Men on stilts wandered by, their faces painted comically.
“Oh look,” Fili said, nodding toward a vendor. “Have you had these before?”
“No,” Sigrid said, eyeing the pastries. “What are they?”
Fili fished a couple of coins out and paid the vendor for two. She curtsied to him, murmuring, “Your Highness honors me.” He nodded his thanks.
“Struvor. Here, try one.” He handed her one of the ones he’d bought.
“They’re very pretty,” Sigrid said looking over the geometric patterning to it carefully. “how are they made?”
“They’re fried. Bakers either make special irons for the shapes or have them commissioned. Try it,” he urged again.
Sigrid bit into the crispy, fried dough. Her eyebrows shot up and she smiled before covering her mouth with one hand while she chewed. When she finally swallowed, she grinned at Fili. “That’s delicious,” she said.
“As I said.” Fili grinned at her and then popped the rest of his into his mouth before wiping his fingers on his trousers. Sigrid wiped hers on a handkerchief she kept tucked into a pocket of her dress.
“I’ll have to bring some home to my family,” she said with a grin. “Tilda and Da will love these.”
“Not Bain?”
“He doesn’t care for sweets,” she said. “Pity for him but lucky for me. I always manage to get more of his share.”
Fili chuckled. “Perhaps I’ll bring some back to Kili and Mother,” he said. “They love these just as much as I do.”
“How is Princess Dis and Prince Kili?” Sigrid asked. “I haven’t seen them in a while.”
They continued on through the festival, both remembering where the vendor with the struvor pastries was so they could return later to buy more for their families. They sampled more of the food, examined the wares, and watched the entertainers as they spoke of their families and the goings on of their respective cities as they walked. A few games and competitions were scheduled throughout the day and they watched a few as they went. Magnus woke up at times and poked his head out of the sling, accepting offerings of food from the two as they strolled. Whispers followed them, but the two didn’t notice them.
A swordsmanship competition caught Fili’s eye in the later afternoon. He signed up and was surprised when Sigrid did as well.
“You’ll hold Magnus for me while I compete, won’t you?” she asked him without looking up from signing her name. Smytheson grinned at her when she set the pen back in the ink bottle.
“Of course,” Fili said.
“Sigrid, you’re going to compete?”
She turned and saw Tilda and Bain walking towards them, her little sister beaming up at her.
“Yes,” Sigrid said. “Are you going to watch?”
“Bain wants to,” Tilda said. “I don’t see the point.” She made a face.
“It’s good to learn new techniques by watching others,” Bain said, sounding as if he’d said this a few times already. His eye caught Fili and he bowed, greeting the prince and nudging Tilda to do the same.
“None of that now,” Fili said, stepping forward to clasp Bain’s hand. “I’m just here as any other dwarf today, enjoying the festival.”
Bain nodded, returning the grip with a small smile.
“Prince Fili, why did you give Sigrid a puppy?”
“She mentioned she wanted one a few days ago. I know a dwarf that breeds dogs for the King’s Guard. A litter was born a little bit ago and he said I could have the runt.”
“This is the runt?” Bain asked, looking at Magnus. The dog woofed quietly at him and then went back to licking Sigrid’s chin.
“Yes,” Fili said.
“I’m afraid of how large the others are,” Tilda said, wide-eyed.
Fili laughed and the group moved aside for others to sign up for the competition. They spent the next few hours wandering the market together until the designated time for the sword fights rolled around. Fili’s first match came before Sigrid’s and she joined her siblings in the stands as they watched Fili enter the ring.
A roar of approval sounded from every dwarf watching as well as from Sigrid and her siblings. The young prince swaggered into the arena, throwing his hands in the air and motioning for the cheers to get louder, a wide grin on his face. His opponent was a member of Dale’s guard and well-liked in the city.
The crowds settled long enough for the judges to begin the fight. The guardsman advanced quickly, coming at Fili with the intent of using his superior height to his advantage.
“Well that was dumb,” Sigrid thought as Fili ducked under the man’s guard and came up with his own blunted weapon to slash across the man’s ribs, scoring the first hit of five. The match didn’t get any better with Fili dancing around the taller, burlier man. He won the match, evading any strike the other man attempted.
When Sigrid’s first match arrived, she handed Magnus over to Fili. Sound deafened her momentarily when the people of Dale saw their Lady enter the ring. She waved one hand to the cheering and jeering crowds before turning to face off against her opponent. “I’m going to enjoy this,” the man said. “Not much more satisfying than teaching a girl her proper place.”
Sigrid let one eyebrow rise but didn’t reply. She knew her silence bothered her chattier opponents. She saluted him and the judge started the match. Sigrid darted in without hesitation. She lunged left in a feint before spinning right in a risky move, bringing the blunted weapon around to strike against the Chatterbox’s ribs. She danced out of reach again before he could retaliate.
“Beginners luck,” Blabbermouth grumbled. “You’ll not make a strike like-”
Sigrid lunged straight at him, her arms extending in opposite directions. Her sword tip struck shoulder and she recoiled back into a defensive stance.
Windbag growled. “Enough!” he snarled and charged her with a roar, his sword raised high. Sigrid dove to the side at the last moment of the man’s chopping swing. On her knees, she swung up and to the side with both hands on the hilt, hitting him across his rear with the flat of her blade. Sher lurched to her feet and away again.
Laughter erupted from the stands, drawing her attention briefly from Loudmouth. Immediately, her eyes found Tilda, Bain, and Fili where she’d left them in the stands. Her eyes met those of the grinning prince and she felt an answering smile tug at her lips before his expression shifted suddenly to one of alarm.
Sigrid sidestepped just in time to keep from being whacked on the collarbone, getting her sword between her and Talkative. She caught his blade on hers high enough to slow the blow but the sheer momentum knocked her block down and the sword smacked painfully into her shoulder. She kept moving back, getting out of range.
She circled, rotating her arm to shake off the pain and ignored the sneer on Chatty’s face.
The traded blows for a while until Sigrid saw an opening. Quickly, she snaked her blade along his, tangled their hilts together, and yanked with all her might. Bigmouth’s sword sailed across the ring, clattering onto the dirt floor as Sigrid swung her sword around, leveling it at his neck.
“Yield,” she ordered with her sword tip just beneath his chin. He scowled but lifted his hands anyway.
The judge declared her the winner of the match.
“Yay Sigrid! You won!” Tilda cheered when the oldest sibling joined the others. She took Magnus back from Fili.
“Thank you, Your Highness,” she said, chest still heaving slightly with the exertion of the match.
“Don’t mention it,” he said. “That was quite the rookie mistake. What happened?” He indicated her shoulder where she’d been struck for Chatty McChit-chat’s only point.
“I was distracted,” she murmured, not meeting his eyes. He grinned and excused himself to prepare for his next fight.
The matches continued. Fili plowed through his opponents, Man and Dwarf alike. Sigrid fought through her next three, winning them all, some with more difficulty than others. She felt she’d been fairly lucky with her opponents. All had either been more inexperienced than she was or overconfident in their ability to beat her.
“How goes the sword competition?” Bard asked, coming up behind his children as they watched Fili put a member of Erebor’s King’s Guard to shame, laughing all the while (“Master Dwalin is going to have a field day with getting you fit for battle! My mum could beat you with her eyes closed and one hand tied behind her back!”).
“I think His Highness will win the entire thing, the way he’s competing,” Sigrid said. She worried about his leg but also wondered if she should exploit it should they fight in the next round -a very likely scenario considering this was his last match before it and he only had to score one more hit to advance where his opponent hadn’t so much as touched him.
“If he can beat you in the quarterfinals,” Tilda said, holding the utmost faith in her sister’s abilities.
Sigrid ruffled Tilda’s hair, smiling at her optimism and cheered as Fili scored his final point, taking the match. He and the other dwarf left the ring so the first match of the quarterfinals could start. She knew her skill level and had gotten a good look at Prince Fili’s. She’d been training -admittedly in almost every spare moment but still- for almost two years. Whereas the dwarf prince had probably trained for most of his much longer life.
“Can you hold Magnus Da?” Sigrid asked. “I better go get ready.” She took off the sling after pulling the puppy out. She handed both over to her father before heading back over to prepare for her match against Fili.
After he finished his match, the dwarf prince joined her as she pulled on a padded jerkin to help protect her from the worst blows.
“I’ll not go easy on you, Highness,” she said, pulling her head free of the garment and reaching for the gloves set aside for her.
“Funny, I was going to say the same to you. I’ll not hold back if you get distracted.”
“I’ll try not to hurt that pretty face of yours but I make no guarantees.” She headed toward the ring as the other match wound down.
Fili gaped after her for a moment before jogging to catch up. “You think I’m pretty?” he asked, grinning.
Sigrid just smiled at him and entered the ring, taking up position on her side. When Fili faced her and saluted, she returned the salute and winked.
“Mind games is it?” he thought. “Let the games begin.”
The judge signaled the start of the match.
Fili and Sigrid started circling each other, darting in for attacks, testing each other. Sigrid finally lunged, and Fili knocked her blade aside and followed her when she recoiled, swiping at her across her waist. She met his attack, bringing her arm in close. Fili forced her sword down, still advancing. He leaned into her, stepping into the guard, making eye contact, and smiling charmingly. Sigrid’s eyes widened and her steps faltered. Fili whipped his blade up and struck her across the ribs before she could free her sword and get out of range.
Fili crowed with laughter. “What was that you said about my pretty face?”
Sigrid didn’t answer, just advanced again, using her height to her advantage. Fili twisted aside and they traded blows, swords clashing loudly among the din made by the crowds. The dwarves cheered loudly as Fili hit Sigrid two more times. Sigrid fought back, pushing Fili to keep circling.
His hip, already hurting from the morning walking and the afternoon fighting, started to ache with a fierce, stabbing pain. He started limping harder. Sigrid pushed and pushed until he stumbled. She caught him across his shoulder when he faltered, throwing his arm out to catch his balance. The People of Dale roared their approval as the judge lifted the green flag, signaling her point.
Fili didn’t step back but darted in when Sigrid stepped back. He caught her across her hip and stepped back.
They both darted in at the same time, swords coming around to clash together, retreat, and come in again. Fili came in high, Sigrid came in low. She struck his ribs but stopped moving then. Fili pressed his blunted blade into her throat. “Yield,” Fili ordered, a grin on his face.
Sigrid huffed a sigh and dropped her sword, raising her hands in surrender.
Dwarves cheered in the stands as Fili moved his sword to his left hand. “Well fought, My Lady.”
She took his hand in a firm grip. “Should have known better than to taunt Erebor’s crown prince before the match started.” She grinned and they left the ring.
Once they were clear of the ring and the next combatants had entered, Fili turned to her but suddenly fell forward as a dark blur landed on top of him, shouting, “Fili!”
“Prince Kili!” Tilda raced over to them, grinning at the younger dwarf sitting on the elder’s back.
“Lady Tilda! Did you see my brother almost lose to your amazing sister?”
“I did not almost lose,” Fili groused, twisting out from under Kili and pinning him easily.
“Keep telling yourself that Brother,” Kili said and wriggled his way free. He gave Tilda a hug when she reached for him. “How are you, littlest Bardling?”
Tilda giggled at the name. “I’m fine. How are you? Is Tauriel with you? There she is. Hi Tauriel! Did you know Prince Fili gave Sig a puppy?”
“A puppy?” Kili asked, glancing at his brother. “Where?”
“Da has him. Come on, I’ll show you.” She grabbed Kili’s hand and led him off. Fili watched as Tauriel followed, smiling at the antics of the child and her dwarf.
“Will you be staying to watch the rest of the matches now you’re out of them?” Fili asked as they followed the trio at a more sedate pace. Fili would soon enough have to return to the ring for the semi-finals but he felt he should keep an eye on Kili for a moment longer if he could.
Sigrid took the good-natured slap on the back from a nearby dwarf with a smile before answering. “Of course I will. I need to make sure that the one who beat me is indeed the best sword fighter here so I know what to work toward.”
“I’ll try not to disappoint,” Fili said. They reached the others and Fili watched as Tilda took the sleeping puppy from Bard and showed it to Kili.
“Fee, you gave her a Mountain Hound?” he asked with a laugh.
“It’s the runt of the litter,” Fili said as if that made a difference.
Kili laughed. “I want a ride on it when it’s full grown!”
“What?” Bard looked over at Kili.
“Joking, only joking,” he said but sent a wink Tilda’s way. The little girl giggled and continued to show off the puppy.
“I better head back,” Fili said, nodding toward the ring but keeping an eye on Bard who was glaring at him and glancing at the dog in turn.
“Good luck, Your Highness,” Sigrid said.
Fili did end up winning the competition, trouncing his remaining two opponents thoroughly. He accepted the gold offered him with a grin, waiving to the cheering crowds.
“And now Your Highness, who will you show your favor to this day?”
Fili grinned widely. “Why, to my brother Kili of course!”
A murmur broke out through the audience. People whispered and glanced at each other, eyes turning from the crown prince to his younger brother.
Fili continued after a moment. “For him to give to his One as I have not yet found mine and will show none other my favor.” He motioned for Kili and Tauriel to approach as applause and cheering erupted again. Fili handed over the rest of the prize- a voucher for dinner at the finest inn as well as one for a young jeweler from Erebor. “Enjoy yourselves on me,” he said, handing them to Kili.
“Many thanks, Brother,” Kili said, his cheerful grin widening as he leaned up to kiss Tauriel. She leaned down to receive it and he shifted his stance, bending her back into an exaggerated, prolonged player’s kiss. Hoots and hollers sounded from the dwarrows in the audience as well as good-natured jeering.
Fili returned to where Sigrid was with her family. She’d taken the sling back from her father and reloaded Magnus into it, petting his head absently as he licked at her face. Fili turned to Bard. “With your permission, My Lord Bard the Dragonslayer,” he said and grinned at the glower he received for using the man’s official title, “I’d be honored if you’d allow me to continue to escort Lady Sigrid for the remainder of the festival, if I may?”
Bard glanced at Sigrid who nodded.
“Very well, Prince Fili of Erebor, you may.” He turned to his daughter. “Don’t be out too late.”
“I won’t, Da,” she said. “I’ll come by the house after dinner to at least bring Magnus home and check in before I join in the dancing.”
“That’s my girl,” Bard smiled at her.
She accepted Fili’s arm when he offered it and they wove back into the crowds to enjoy the rest of the festival.
Notes:
For those that are curious, Magnus is a Caucasian Shepherd (also called Caucasian Mountain hound or Caucasian Ovcharka or Baskhan (Karachay) pariy). Large males can weigh around 200 pounds, as Magnus will when he's full grown. Google them. They're giant fluff balls of protectiveness.
As always, please comment with questions, concerns, or, well comments. I always love hearing from my readers.
4 notes · View notes