Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters except for Himîl, they are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien, and are based on Peter Jackson's adaptations. I am not making money off this, I am only writing for fun. I may have been subconsciously inspired by all the Durin-family fics I have read, which was many crammed into the past two weeks, although I try to strive to be as original as I can.

Summary: "You have built a new life for us in the Blue Mountains. A life of peace and plenty. A life that is worth more than all the gold in Erebor."—Balin. Thorin and his nephews, from beginning to end. Frequent appearances by the other dwarves and especially Dís. Movieverse.

A/N- I want to build on Thorin's relationship with his nephews individually, as well as with each other. A large factor of his relationship to Fíli I believe is that Fíli is his heir, and so that's why even in the first chapter that's one of the focuses. The summary was inspired by a particular gifset on tumblr, with the Balin-quote from the movie and gifs of Fili and Kili, indicating that they are indeed worth more to Thorin than Erebor's gold. The quote is from the movie.

Chapter One

Thorin knew how to handle delicate things. He was a dwarf, skilled at crafts; though he spent most of his time pounding away in the forge, he was still able to make fine, delicate things of great beauty.

But the newborn infant he cradled gently in his arms was not made of fine metal, and Thorin was uneasy. Any sudden, wrong movement could potentially harm this precious thing.

He was a warrior, a king—though an exiled one—who had not held or dealt with a baby since his sister Dís was born. It had been…quite some time.

So he eyed the little bundle in his arms uncertainly. The babe was wrapped in the deep royal blue of their house, the blanket soft and made with extreme care. It had been a gift from Thorin, for this babe would be the most important addition to his family, and the color established his place in it.

His little round face was devoid of hair, nose small and not yet grown-in as a dwarf's should be. Thorin sincerely hoped he would inherit their side of the family's nose, rather than Dís's husband's, whose own was almost embarrassingly small and thin for a dwarf's.

"You look terrified," his sister tiredly chuckled from her place on the bed, supported by pillows. Her husband Himîl sat beside her, his arm across her shoulders. Thorin gave her an affronted look, which made her smile grow wider.

"I am not," he muttered, his heart lightening as she chuckled again. For so many years, she had little cause for such joy, with the joint loss of their home, their grandfather and father, and their brother Frerin. Himîl, much as Thorin didn't exactly care for him, had brought her the start of new happiness, and now the child in his arms would restore it with much more completeness. Thorin's gaze drifted back to the little pink face.

Carefully, he shifted the soft blue blanket from the top of the babe's head, momentarily disappointed at the yellow fuzz covering the crown. It was a feature that was most definitely inherited from Himîl. It was hard to tell who the child would favor in looks otherwise, although the fair hair did not bode well. Thorin, however, swallowed the brief and irrelevant disappointment, shoving it in the back of his mind. No matter, then.

"He does seem to have my coloring," Himîl remarked dryly, his brown gaze penetrating his brother-in-law. Thorin must not have hid his expression very well, or perhaps the blank mask was telling in and of itself. "But I do believe there's a chance he may take after Dís. I hope so, she is much more attractive than I shall ever be."

"It's too early to tell such a thing," Dís waved him off, "there's no need to reassure Thorin, my love. Whether he looks like you or not, our son is of the line of Durin either way."

The babe was rather small, perhaps another indication of Himîl's genes, but Thorin had hope that the child would one day reach Thorin's own stature. Tallness ran in their family, but there was always a chance that it would pass over his nephew. He would only have to hope.

"And how do you find your heir, my brother?" was Dís's soft inquiry when he continued to remain silent. There was a hesitant note to her voice, and Thorin realized he should have spoken up sooner. But the question she had asked made the words stick in his throat.

His heir. His heir.

They were words he hadn't considered in a long time, not since Frerin's death. Once, their line had been assured, but after the death of his grandfather, father, and his younger brother, Thorin had pushed the thought of having an heir to the side. He knew he would never marry or have his own children, for he was not cut out for that life, but the hope had always been overwhelmingly placed on Dís. Fortunately, she had always desired a family of her own, but Thorin would never have forced her if she did not want it.

But now that their hope lay in this tiny child cocooned in his arms, the deaths of all of their family was suddenly pushed to the forefront of his mind. He had not thought of Frerin seriously in many years, had forced himself not to. But now all he could think of was that Frerin would have loved holding this small, fragile creature. That he would have been a doting, affectionate uncle.

He didn't answer his sister but watched as the infant yawned and shifted, reaching out and latching on to his uncle's finger. Thorin nearly started. He pulled his hand back slightly, but the babe clung on.

"He is strong," he said finally, raising his eyes to meet his sister's blue gaze and nodded. "What have you called him?"

"Fíli," Himîl spoke, his own eyes on his brother-in-law. "Will he do for your heir?"

"Yes, he will do," Thorin firmly said, surprised at the relief that splayed across Dís's face. He made his way over to her and bent to carefully transfer the child into her arms. "He will do," he murmured again, pressing a kiss on the top of her head, her hair still tangled from childbirth.

"I'm glad," she choked out, swallowing hard to reign in her emotions. She was like her brother and cried very rarely, but the exhaustion as a result of the past two days of child labor must have broken down any kind of mental reinforcement to prevent such blatant display of sentiment. Himîl's arm tightened around her shoulders, and he pressed his forehead to her temple, his dark gaze focused on his son.

Thorin looked upon the small family for a moment, before taking a step back. "I'll take my leave now—Balin and Dwalin will be eager for the news, and will want to visit soon."

Himîl's gaze snapped up to his brother-in-law and his brow furrowed. "Dís and Fíli are not up to visitors—my parents have not even seen the child yet! They should have been fir—"

"Tell them I will be happy to see them in a few days," Dís interrupted calmly, "Himîl's family will have seen Fíli by then, and I would not like to keep Balin and Dwalin waiting. After that though, we want time to ourselves, unless it is you."

Thorin held her eyes with his for a moment before nodding. Himîl, soothed by his wife's words, returned to gazing at his son in adoration, his finger stroking down the round, soft cheek.

Their attention no longer on him, Thorin quietly took his leave. The small family did need time to themselves, but Thorin could not help but feel longing to return back to Dís's home and her side, to his nephew's, but he would have to make do with his two closest friends joining him for a smoke in front of the hearth of the their home.

A/N- Alright, hopefully from here on out I'll have more original ideas and stuff. I want to develop Himîl a bit before I inevitably kill him off. I also may tend to focus a lot on Thorin and Dís's relationship, because I feel that it is extremely important. Balin and Dwalin will play a huge part, but you'll see the other dwarves here and there too (I want to use Bofur a lot later on). Please read & review!