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It wasn't fair.
How many times had she thought that, thought about how unlucky she had been? How many times had she been unable to shake away her sorrow? Unable to put on a brave face? It had happened more and more recently. It was harder to say she was fine, and she wasn't upset.
Especially when she looked at him.
He looked so much like his father. Bright blue eyes, golden hair that refused to stay pulled back, like hers. His wit. Her caring. His courage. Her wisdom. He wore his symbol, the symbol of the mountain, in the small token he always kept around his neck, though he did not know the value.
The mountain had gone to Dain after the battle. After the three heirs of Erebor were slain, he was the next in the bloodline of Durin. No one knew but her of her son's lineage. He would know one day. Now was not the time.
"Mother!" he called as he ran inside, grinning and brushing snow out of his hair. "Mother, I learned how to carve a toy today!"
"Did you? That's wonderful!"
"Yeah! Bofur taught me and said I'm the best student he's had for a long time!"
"Really? That's even better!" She grinned at her son, leaning down and kissing the top of his head.
"He talked today how I reminded him of a dwarf named..." The boy frowned, trying to remember. "A dwarf...Hili? Fili! Fili was his name!"
Sigrid thanked the gods she was facing away from her son, hands clutching the edge of the counter and eyes wide open. She remembered everything about him, every moment she shared in his company. The whispers exchanged to one another, the promises, the kisses, the devotion. Her fingers brushed over the braid she kept as nice as she could manage, leading into her messy bun and held back by his bead.
"That's...that's good, isn't it?" she asked, voice faltering.
The boy nodded. "Said I was handsome like him, too."
Sigrid's hand went to her chest, where a charm of his hung on a worn piece of leather. Dropping her hand she busied herself with washing an apple, trying to hold back her tears. "Why not go wash up for a snack, dear?" she asked. "I'll make up an apple and the jam toast you like."
"Okay!" He dashed out of the room, boots stomping the floor. Sigrid covered her face with both hands, letting out a sob and allowing a few tears to fall.
It wasn't fair.