A/N: I have no idea where this came from. I just decided that the movie 'A Knights Tale' would be an awesome theme for a Hobbit story and this just kind of happened. I regret nothing. All the cast will appear in one way or another. It's Thorin/Bilbo and I'll see where the ships go from there :) (Let me know of who you'd like to see together!)

Summary: Looking back, Thorin could tell it had been a bit absurd to think any of it could actually work. It was a plan with a very small chance of success and certainty of death. Of course, that's why they had all decided to do it. Thorin would find his family a home, even if he had to pass himself off as a human to do so. A Hobbit Story loosely based off of A Knights Tale.

Far over the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep, and caverns old
We must away ere break of day
To seek the pale enchanted gold.

-o-o-o-

Five years of medical training, three years of apprenticeship under Radagast, and it all came down to these few ridiculous words.

"Well, you're not going to like this, but… He's dead, Thorin." Balin flicked the ornamental helmet's visor back down over the face that was too pale and sat back on his haunches to regard his Thorin. Thorin was incapable of returning the gaze of his oldest friend and advisor. He must have looked quite a site, covered in dirt, dung, sick and blood as he was, but Thorin couldn't give it a care.

Bard was dead, and with him any chance the four dwarrows had of returning home with food.

Balin stood up slowly and dusted his grubby hands off on his equally grubby breeches. Ordinarily Thorin would have offered consolation for the careful surgeon getting messy, but Thorin was frozen.

They were going to starve. They were going to be cast aside and treated as vagabonds-if they weren't accused of murdering their former Lord and Master.

"Hey, I found the extra-why is he leaning against a tree instead of sitting on his horse?" Fili came up the path from the nearby village as he spoke and stopped short in front of the deceased Human with a pronounced frown. Kili, his brother, collided into him at the unexpected stop. "Sir, you've only got ten minutes before you're called to the field."

"Fili," Balin sighed, dusting off his hands, "He's not going anywhere he's-ummph!" Thorin surged forward and clamped a hand over Balin's mouth as another figure came from the village. The regal Elf walked extremely stiffly across the dirt path. He eyed the three 'Dwarrows' and the deceased Human with obvious disdain, despite the fact that he didn't move one muscle on his blank face. It was impressive how expressive the Elves could make their eyes. They also just seemed to radiate annoyance around Dwarrows.

"When might we expect Lord Bard? He has only ten minutes before he must forfeit the match."

"He'll be there!" Thorin insisted quickly. The elf narrowed his eyes and Thorin continued, inclining his head respectively. He could feel Balin working his mouth furiously under his hand but he steadfastly ignored the wet sensation. "Sir, he shall arrive on time. I'm afraid he's had a bit of trouble with his armor. It needs loosening before he can move." Thorin bowed his head in respect even though it made his stomach turn violently. He hated elves. They were the ones responsible for his peoples status. Them and their overly virtuous, self-important, flower loving, tree hugging selves!

The Elf, oblivious to Balin's dismay and Throin's hate, raised an eyebrow. "Indeed." He regarded Bard for one more moment before turning. "I shall look for him in precisely ten minutes." The Elf scurried away. Balin, tired of being restrained by Thorin, bit the hand covering his mouth.

"Ow! Balin!" Thorin grumbled he shook his hand and glowered at the old dwarf. Balin matched his gaze and raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

"Someone mind telling us what's going on?" Kili inquired remarkably patiently as Thorin, with one last glare at Balin slipped next to their dead master, Bard.

"All right, you're telling me what's up in a moment." Balin turned to Fili and Kili, who were now tapping their feet impatiently. Kili's shaggy brown hair was falling in his eyes and he moved it away with a well-practiced flick of his head. Fili's hair was respectably braided back. " Bard died."

Fili blinked once, twice, three times before responding. "I'm sorry?"

" Bard is dead, done, finished, deceased. His soul has gone but his stench remains."

"He can't be dead." Kili took a small, tentative step towards the very deceased Human that Thorin was methodically pulling the armor off of. Balin grumbled behind him.

"Sorry, there's nothing I can do. This elf is dead." Balin redirected his attention to Thorin, ignoring Fili and Kili's protest about not having eaten in three days so Bard had to be alive because they needed to eat. "And what do you think you're doing, Laddie?"

"I'm removing his armor. Surely one so wise as yourself can tell that." Thorin rumbled, removing the vambracer with a frown of distaste. He was well acquainted with this armor. It was always his job to dress the overweight knight. It wasn't a task he terribly relished. Especially since he could always feel his masters unflinching gaze on him whenever he bent to fasten the chausses. He had no desire to know what the old man had imagined.

"Laddie, stop."

"He's dead, he hardly needs it." Thorin retorted. He freed the last vambrace and went to work on the hauberk that Bard always insisted on.

It was true that he was being extremely cold about their now dead master, but serving had never been his style. Or his choice, really. The elves had always insisted the Dwarrows serve the humans and elves, since long before memory. None of his people had any rights as they weren't thought of all that much more highly than Dogs. Even Wargs were treated better than most Dwarrows. While Bard had never been outstandingly cruel, Thorin saw no reason to waste tears on someone who thought he was only good for manual labor. He had also made several advances that made Thorin want to stab him with his practice sword. If only the blade had not been so dull.

It was also not that surprising that Bard had died. That's what happened when Humans who were far too old to be competing did compete. Their hearts gave out.

"What in Mahal's name are you doing, Thorin?" Thorin had successfully pulled off all the human's armor and was now proceeding to put it on his own body. It was a bit long, but not overly so. Bard had always been a rather short human. The more noticeable problem was that he'd also been considerably fatter than Thorin.

"Come on, Balin. Surely you can see what I'm doing? I intend to ride in his place."

"Will that actually work?" Fili asked, stepping over to Thorin and helping him adjust the cowter on his shoulder. Kili gave an uncaring shrug and joined Fili on Thorin's other side. His nephews made quick work of the rest of the fastenings.

Balin was still staring at him with a furrowed brow. It was a full thirty seconds before he finally responded.

"What are you saying, Laddie?"

Thorin stared straight into Balin's eyes while Fili pulled his long, dark hair back. "I'm going to joust in his place."

"Well that's madness."

"Probably." Thorin was completely undeterred as he fastened the braces. He valued Balin's opinion above all others, but he would not sit by while they starved. Not when there was a possible means of salvation at his fingertips. The risk did not matter. Not when the punishment would only fall on him should they be caught. "Yet we cannot eat until we have the money to eat. Money we will only get if Bard wins this match. Therefore, I'm jousting. Pass me that helmet?"

"What's your name?" Balin asked, making no move for the helmet sitting at his feet. Thorin huffed and moved forward to get it only to be stopped by Fili tightening his hands around Thorin's hair.

"Ouch," Thorin complained, rubbing at his head. Fili knocked his hand away.

"None of that. I've got to braid all of this back or they'll see it. Bard's hair is-"

"Was." Kili corrected.

"Was, gray, not black."

"I asked what your name was, Laddie?"

Thorin, to his own annoyance, let out a frustrated huff. "Thorin, Son of Thrain."

"Exactly, you've no last name which means you are neither Human or Elf. You cannot fight."

"I can fight, I am not allowed to fight." Thorin corrected. "There is quite a difference. No man has more courage than I. With that helmet," He pointed to the shining silver at Balin's feet, "I can fight, for none would know my true heritage."

"You're too thin." Kili lamented.

"The lad's right. If you can't fit the build, the helmet will not aid."

"Kili, I require your shirt." Fili said simply, letting go of Thorin's now braided hair. It was to Kili's credit that he didn't question his brothers demand. He merely removed the shirt and passed it to him. Fili then proceeded to bunch it up and shove it under Thorin's hauberk. He stepped back and examined his handy work with a tilted head."

"That may actually work. Balin admitted with a huff. He bent down slowly and picked the helmet off before dusting it off with his grubby sleeve. He peered down at it before looking up at Thorin. "Should they remove it, we will be unable to protect you." Balin said softly. Thorin nodded his head and reached for the helmet.

"I would not ask you too." He said simply. He took the helmet only to have Kili yank it away.

"What if you have to take it off?" He demanded, a slightly panicked look in his eyes.

"Then," Fili said, taking the helmet away from his brother's manic grip, "Uncle makes up an excuse." He proceeded to fasten the helmet on and swiftly hide Thorin's hair away. "Any strands loose?" He asked aloud. Balin shook his head.

"You know they'll kill you for this, right?" He finally asked heavily. Thorin gave his head a descive nod.

"Which is why they shall not find out." He pulled the visor down and rolled his neck. He was a bit constricted in his movements do the ill-fitting armor, but it was manageable. The real trick would be getting on the horse. Thankfully, Thorin had always been unnaturally tall for a dwarf.

"All you have to do is stay on the horse." Kili whispered quietly, crossing his arms over his bare chest. Thorin couldn't help but notice how much his ribs were sticking out. He steeled his back and stood straighter.

"Indeed?" Balin asked in surprise. Fili nodded his head.

"Yeah, I couldn't believe the old man managed to break two lances either."

Thorin took the lance up. "Now, Balin, dispose of the body, just stick it in the bushes over there, and come to the stands like Fili and I usually do. No one will suspect a thing. They're not looking for anything suspicious. So, if we don't let on that there is anything suspicious occurring, they have no reason to suspect us. We get away with the prize and we get to eat. The plan is full proof."

It was anything but, but the dwarrows were too polite to say so.

Thorin turned and strode off towards the field where his horse waited. Thankfully Thorin was the large beast's handler so Beorn was used to him. The animal actually liked Thorin. (Which was quite unusal for Dwarrows, but under the circumstances Thorin wasn't about to complain.)

"Alright, let's just get in and out." Thorin could hear Balin muttered as he led Beorn to the starting point. Elion, Thorin's rival, mounted his own beast and rode to the starting point. Fili handed Thorin his lance while Elion's Dwarf, Dain? Handed him his lance.

"Challengers at the start!" The rude elf that had informed the four dwarrow of their ten minutes stood at the center of the field. "On my mark, ride!" The elf raised a ridiculously large flag, and then swung it down, signifying the start of the match before he ran off the field. Thorin urged Beorn forward and gripped the unwieldy Lance as tightly as he could. He brought his knees tight around Beorn's side and grit his teeth. He needed only to stay on the horse. He locked eyes with the oncoming human and gripped Beorn's reigns more tightly.

Three…

Two…

One…

The impact was louder than he anticipated. The lance's connected against each other and the following shower of splinters had Thorin frantically closing his eyes as he was over come with vertigo. He gripped his legs around Beorn all the tighter and willed his body not to move. A crushing pain vibrated through his nose and head followed by the distinct sound of cheers. He dropped what was left of his lance and brought the other hand to grab at Beorn's mane. The horse whined in annoyance but didn't shake his hold.

Hands grabbed at his arms and chest before pulling him from the horses back. He recognized Fili and Kili's scent, followed quickly by their voices.

"You've won, you've won!"

"Easy," Thorin growled, vaguely aware that his voice sounded odd. He could hardly breathe and he tasted blood. "Bard has won countless times."

Fili instantly stepped back but Kili kept a hand on his arm. Which was just as well, Thorin couldn't see out of his helmet and he had the strangest feeling that it wasn't pressing against his face properly. Before he quite knew what he was about, the rude elf was presenting him with a gold leaf for his victory.

How like an elf.

A/n: And we're off! Leave a review, pretty please?

Info/ translations:

Dwarrows= plural of dwarf

cowter= it's a piece of armor that goes on the shoulder

vambracer = a piece of armor that goes over the wrist

chausses = pant armor

hauberk = chain maille shirt