Chapter Text
Kíli was having a lovely morning, seated at the long table he and his family did their best to share a meal at every now and then. That particular day, it was breakfast, which involved him having a plate stacked full of sweet and savoury foods he had only just begun consuming when the sound of Fíli rolling in drew his attention.
Ari was strapped to Fíli’s chest as he pulled up to the table itself, which already had Bilbo, Thorin and their mother seated at, to Kíli’s left.
“Good morning,” Kíli greeted exuberantly when their eyes met across the table.
Unlike most mornings, Fíli met his gaze and huffed, followed by, “Is it?”
Thorin let out a snort, their Amad chuckled, and Kíli heard Bilbo soon sighing. Though he hardly looked their way, instead remaining fixated upon Fíli as he reached for a plate of his own.
Meanwhile, Kíli was surprised by the response but went about eating for a moment, pondering whether his elder brother was irritated with him or the disappointing portion of the day that required rising from bed. He, of course, tried to have a lie-in as often as possible, unless taken with an idea his mind wouldn’t leave alone. However, Fíli on the other hand was an early riser, and not prone to being so put out by the simple act of having to remove himself from bed each morning.
Unless it had been a long night, or Ori wanted him there a bit longer but the day required otherwise.
After taking toast in hand, Kíli flicked his gaze back up to find Ari staring at him bright eyed, whilst Fíli was angrily putting together his plate.
Briefly, Kíli smiled at Ari, handing a bit of scrambled egg over to his nephew. The pebble fisted it and then directly put it into his mouth, happy as could be. Which was in stark contrast to at least one of his Adads, who looked ready to spit fire.
“Kíki,” Ari chirped, repeating the nickname he had bequeathed to his Irak’adad.
“Someone’s perky this morning,” Kíli replied, handing a bit more egg to Ari, who did much the same as he had with the last portion.
The pebble’s cherubic features were covered in tiny dots of egg in the aftermath, that would no doubt need to be wiped up later.
Fíli snorted belatedly, before handing a slice of orange to his son. Afterwards, he stated, “That makes one of us.”
Kíli shared a look with their Amad, who appeared amused. Meanwhile, Thorin shook his head, and Bilbo looked worried.
Before any one of them was caught in the crossfire of Fíli’s ill tempered, Kíli sighed then turned to his elder brother.
“Okay, I’ll bite. What’s wrong?”
Fíli didn’t look up from where he was about to begin shoveling food into his mouth, but still muttered, “Nothing.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
That time Fíli met Kíli’s eyes, then said, “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Following that, Fíli began angrily eating his toast.
For the time being, Kíli elected to ignore him, choosing to eat some of his own food.
A conversation of a wholly different nature started when Thorin asked, “How fares the bond between you and Princess Sigrid?”
Once he had taken a sip of water, Kíli looked at his uncle, who had a searching look upon his face. Whereas Amad’s own expression tightened, before she glanced back down at her plate. Bilbo, however, appeared hopeful. His fingers were laced upon the table before him, also watching Kíli intently.
“It is good. I have come to appreciate her far more than I initially did, and more than that, I enjoy her company,” Kíli replied.
“That’s wonderful, Kíli,” Bilbo crowed.
Thorin nodded. “I am pleased by this development.”
He and the Hobbit shared a look, and so Kíli chose to inform them of what else had occurred as a result of his and Sigrid’s new relationship.
“I began creating a stained glass window for Sigrid, as a gift. I was inspired by our budding relationship, which I think might have a chance to properly bloom,” Kíli stated, and Bilbo let out a soft little, “Oh, how terribly sweet,” in response.
Thorin nodded approvingly, whilst his Amad didn’t bother to comment upon it at all, as she had the day before.
“Excellent,” Thorin said, smiling genuinely, then grasped Bilbo’s hand upon the table.
The two shared a rather besotted look between them, almost as if they were both enjoying each other while reaffirming that they hadn’t made a colossal mistake in asking of Kíli what they had. Seeing it weeks ago would have bothered him, but it didn’t anymore.
Prior to anything else being said regarding what had just been discussed, Ori entered the dining space. Rather than sitting beside his husband, the former sat next to Kíli at his right, to which the prince raised an eyebrow.
Ori glanced up at him, and demanded, “What?”
Kíli was taken aback, but he just shook his head and looked back over at Ari. Who, at that point, was beginning to cry.
Both Fíli and Ori each had tight expressions shortly after, and the former groaned aloud.
“What’s wrong?” Kíli asked, now realising there was absolutely something the matter.
Whether it was a couple’s spat, which the pair weren’t often prone to having within anyone’s purview or something else, he had to know because now Ari was crying up a storm.
“He was up teething all night,” Ori said, as Fíli allowed their son to teethe on one of his fingers, nodding.
“That would explain it,” Amad muttered loud enough everyone could hear.
“Fíli, following this meal, you are to return to your quarters and rest,” Thorin said imperiously, which left no room for argument.
The statement didn’t seem to assuage him, though, because Fíli said, “I find that impossible to do right now, when he hardly sleeps and is only soothed for so long, Irak’adad.”
A chair scraped and then Amad was on her feet, moving closer towards her eldest son.
“I will watch Ari for the day, dashat. Thorin is right. You need rest.”
Fíli nodded, then rubbed a hand over his face. “Thank you, Amad.”
“I will not make a habit of it, but before you and Ori rip each other’s throats out, I think it’s for the best today.”
At that, Fíli winced then nodded.
Soon Ari was in her arms, and their Amad walked elsewhere, cooing to her only grandchild. The rest of the meal was rather silent, until Fíli and Ori left together, side by side. They hadn’t necessarily thawed but were less irritated than before arriving.
Bilbo chuckled a little in the wake of their retreat, which drew Kíli to look his way.
“What?” Kíli asked, curious at what had made his Hobbit uncle laugh so.
Shaking his head, Bilbo stated, “That is something you must be prepared for. You can love your spouse, but there will be times you will not like them at all.”
Thorin rolled his eyes, wiping his face with a cloth napkin before setting it down.
“Of that, I can attest.”
Bilbo snorted but still smiled.
Thorin then glanced at Kíli again, and asked, “So, what will you be utilising your free time for, today?”
Kíli had hoped to spend it with Fíli, but that wouldn’t be happening, he wagered.
After travailing the wilds of his mind, Kíli landed upon Sigrid and thought that perhaps a trip to Dale was in order.
“I would like to extend my sincerest apologies for my father’s behaviour at dinner, recently,” Prince Legolas stated, his voice just shy of slightly irritable.
“You know, I do believe this apology would ring truer from his lips,” Sigrid replied.
“I’m inclined to agree,” Bain said from where he leant against a nearby wall, arms crossed over his chest, face fixed into a disgruntled expression.
“Yes, well,” Legolas sighed, shaking his head.
“There’s no excuse for how he comported himself,” Sigrid stated, staring up into the Elf’s ice blue eyes.
Legolas didn’t immediately disagree with her, which only proved her point.
“Changed behaviour. If your father wishes me to forgive him, that’s where he should start,” Sigrid continued, leaving the unsaid between them; that Legolas could stand to do so, too.
The two were more or less friends, though that wasn’t the whole of it. Due to their fathers’ friendship, or whatever they deemed it to be, Sigrid and Legolas had become something a bit more intimately known to each other in a platonic sense, because they both knew details about the other’s family which spoke to a deeper bond.
Siblings wasn’t accurate either, but in a sense, it actually was.
Sigrid didn’t think too much on it, but did appreciate the times that Legolas was enjoyable to be around, and would leave it there.
While she and her siblings had been surprised at Legolas’ arrival, a knock soon sounded from the front door, and that led to Sigrid discovering Kíli on the other side.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, though Sigrid couldn’t help but smile at him, regardless.
“I had hoped to spend time with you, given I have some to spare today. Would that be alright?” Kíli asked hesitantly.
There were few times Sigrid could remember him looking as such, and found that it didn’t suit him at all.
“Yes, it would. Though,” she paused, glancing back to where she knew Legolas still remained. Sigrid grimaced, hoping that this wouldn’t be terribly difficult to navigate. Exhaling a breath, she glanced back down at Kíli, saying, “I, unfortunately, have a guest at present. However, he should be leaving quite soon.”
Kíli frowned. “May I come in?”
Sigrid didn’t see why not, so she stepped aside.
In came Kíli, and another Dwarf with bright red hair she didn’t know.
“This is my cousin, Gimli,” Kíli said, waving a hand towards the other Dwarf rather informally.
Sigrid smiled as she shut the door, noticing Kíli’s guard detail remaining nearby outside rather than attempting to enter, too.
When she pivoted about, Kíli was looking around, as if scanning for something. He met her eyes then Sigrid looked at Gimli, holding out a hand.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Gimli,” Sigrid said.
Gimli stared at the hand for a moment, and it suddenly became quite awkward, until Kíli spoke quickly in what Sigrid had learned was Khuzdul. It was said so fast, she didn’t have a hope of catching onto whatever he had uttered.
Shortly after, Gimli took her hand, and shook it.
It was then that Sigrid realised they must have a different way of greeting each other she had not yet learnt. The hand around hers was shorter and calloused, but it wasn’t rough with her hand, either.
“You as well,” Gimli replied, voice kind.
When their hands fell away, Sigrid turned to see Legolas step closer to where they were.
Upon spotting him, Kíli stiffened, glancing between the two of them.
“What’s he doing here?” Kíli asked, voice strange.
There was a searching look on his face as their eyes met, and Sigrid could see that he was not happy, which had been one of her worries.
“Did I hear the name Gimli?” Legolas queried, ignoring Kíli, as if he wasn’t there at all.
“You did. What’s it to you?” Gimli asked as the Elf stepped closer to him.
Legolas towered over Gimli, but that didn’t take away the stubborn expression upon the latter’s face.
“So, you’re the goblin mutant,” Legolas stated, after looking over the Dwarf’s face for a little while.
Without much thought, Sigrid stepped close enough to Legolas to elbow him in his side, like she would do to Bain when he was being incredibly rude and needed to be reined in after. The Elf glanced at her, a sour look upon his face.
“That was uncalled for,” Sigrid stated, undeterred by Legolas’ obvious distaste for what she had done. “Elven prince or not, you will have manners in this home. Do not insult my guests, lest I compare you to your father.”
Gimli chuckled whilst Kíli snorted, from what she could hear.
Legolas rolled his eyes, then looked at Gimli. “Perhaps you would like to accompany me to the city’s walls, so that I might know you as you are now, than that admittedly hideous picture your father toted around years before.”
Gimli sighed then his eyes flicked back to where Kíli likely still stood. However, Sigrid couldn’t see past Legolas to know, but it was a fair assumption in her opinion.
“I suppose I could entertain your company for a short while,” Gimli stated, and then the two exited the home, Gimli pointedly stepping in front of Legolas who huffed afterwards.
Once Sigrid and Kíli were left alone, she turned to him, and he appeared less irked than prior to Gimli and Legolas leaving them behind.
“I take it you and he do not get along,” Sigrid stated what was likely obvious to anyone, but wished for further clarification.
Clear communication was the only way to deal with anything regarding this.
Kíli sighed, shaking his head, though he didn’t meet her eyes. “That’s one way of putting it.”
Tentatively, Sigrid stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Well, I hope it will please you to know I am quite happy to see you today.”
Kíli glanced up at her, then placed a warm hand across the one grasping him. He picked it up then kissed her knuckles, smiling as their fingers laced together next.
“As I am happy to see you.” He sighed again. “I wasn’t expecting to encounter him here, of all places.”
Sigrid nodded.
Kíli met her eyes again, and that was when she said, “He was here apologising on behalf of his father. Bain witnessed it all, as well, if you would like him to confirm what I’ve said.”
Kíli’s eyes widened, and he immediately appeared uncomfortable. Which to a degree, so did Sigrid.
At least, until he said, “I assure you that is not necessary. I trust you, I just needed a moment to understand, is all.”
Sigrid breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that Kíli wasn’t like at least some men she had encountered over the course of her life. Tilda’s soon to be former husband, in particular. Though, knowing what he had done to her sister, it made sense he would rather place blame upon Tilda, rather than admit to his own misdeeds. At least, until by his own folly, was found out to be the one unfaithful in their relationship.
“Thank you, Kíli,” Sigrid replied, her voice softening as the other more difficult emotions bled out of her words then.
Kíli smiled, rubbing her knuckles with the pad of his thumb, and she returned it.
Following the awkward moment which Kíli admittedly did not feel he handled well, Sigrid held his hand and led him throughout their family home, showing him around various parts.
Eventually, they stopped in a parlour where a piano rested.
Sigrid, at first, was tugging, as if to hide the instrument, but Kíli had broken away from the hold to look at it.
“This is Dwarven craftsmanship,” he said after looking it all over.
Sigrid’s arms were crossed over her chest when he glanced back at her. For the second time that day, she appeared discomfited.
“Did I do something wrong?” Kíli asked.
Sigrid shook her head.
“It was a recent gift from the Iron Hills. Apparently Da let on that he missed the sound of piano music at a diplomatic meeting of some sort, and Lord Dáin sent us this.”
Kíli smiled. “That’s our cousin for you.”
Sigrid still seemed tense.
“Do you play?” Kíli asked.
Their eyes met, and she nodded. “I haven’t in a while, but I can, yes.”
“If it’s not too much trouble, might I hear then?” Kíli asked.
He felt if Sigrid truly did not want to, then she would say.
Sigrid remained in the door for a little while longer, then stepped towards the piano and sat down on the bench. Given it had taken so much for even that to happen, Kíli walked back to where the former had stood and leant against the wall, watching Sigrid as she stretched her fingers prior to touching the keys at all.
Various notes trickled into the otherwise silent space, filling it with soft music that was as beautiful as Sigrid herself. Once she faltered a few times, Sigrid’s playing took on a life of its own and Kíli could only stare in amazement at how wonderful the song was.
When she finished the first tune, Sigrid didn’t glance up at him, but instead continued to play. The second one was more joyous than the first, and required as much attention, if not more than the previous song had.
At some point, Matilda scampered in, clambering up on the bench.
Sigrid did stop then, but shortly was allowing her niece to attempt to join her. The two remained side by side, doing that.
Kíli was so entranced by the scene that he missed anyone appearing beside him. He realised his error when Tilda’s voice reached his ears. It was just low enough that Kíli likely was the only one who heard Tilda say, “If you hurt Sigrid, your death will look like an accident.”
Kíli’s head whipped over to Tilda, who wasn’t much shorter than him, and he nodded.
“I assure you, I have no intention of doing so.”
“Keep it that way, alright?” Tilda replied, before stepping into the room to join her daughter and sister.
In her wake, Kíli was surprised, but not enough for it to ruin his day.
Furthermore, when Sigrid met his gaze a little while later, he smiled, and she returned it with one of her own.
No, Kíli had no intention of hurting Sigrid, for why would he want to?