I don't own the hobbit
When Kili approaches his uncle, dark eyes wide with confusion, Thorin knows any hopes of relaxing after a challenging day at the forge are long gone.
"Uncle," the dwarfling begins, clambering up onto Thorin's knees "I heard Mister Dwalin talking to Mister Glóin"
'Oh Mahal, this is not going to be good' Thorin thinks, nodding for his youngest sister-son to continue
"Well, they call the elves tree-shaggers, but, how would that work? 'Cause Fee told me what shagging meant, and wouldn't that give the elves splinters? I don't like splinters, they is ouchie. So, how does elves shag the trees without getting splinters in their trouser snakes? Do trees have special holes like the dwarf lass Fee dallies with when mother is at market?" the question is asked so innocently and with such genuine confusion that Thorin doesn't know whether to laugh or cry.
The mighty dwarf king settles for allowing his head to fall backwards in despair.
He will definitely be having words with Dwalin and Glóin about watching their tongues around inquisitive dwarflings.
Why is it always him?
