I watched my brother work for few moments before speaking – he knew I was there, as always. "Thorin, they are just children," I sighed, "you asked too much of them."

"They are Durin's line," my brother replied firmly, barely looking up from his work.

"No," I said loudly, exasperated by how my brother, for all his superior years and all his wisdom could be so very…dim-witted. Why could he not see what was so clear to me? "No. They are our line – your line."

"It is the same thing!"

"No, it's not!"

He growled, throwing down his tools with a loud clang and turning to me. Clearly, my brother thought to frighten me with his huffing and puffing, well, I had had a lifetime of his foul moods; they neither impressed nor intimidated me anymore. I stood firm, crossing my arms. We glared at one another for the longest while until I began to think he would explode from holding his tongue to keep from saying something he would regret. Finally, he released a harsh breath and spoke again, in a carefully even – reasonable – tone.

"They have to learn, Sister. Your eldest is almost – "

"My eldest?" I demanded, outraged. That he should stand there and refuse my son – his heir – even so slight a sign of acknowledgment as his name incensed me. I grabbed the nearest object that I could throw at him and took aim.

"Have a care!" he warned loudly, stepping away slightly. "Have a care – this is a forge! It is dangerous enough, woman!"

Woman? Woman? Of all the – ! I launched my missile, missing by a fraction and taking up my next object. I did not go through the agony of birthing my brother's heirs that I might be 'woman-ed' by him! "Woman?!" I repeated incredulously, taking aim once more. "And 'my eldest'?!"

"FILI!" He roared, looking warily at the heavy tongs I held in my hand. I paused, lowering my arm slightly before relenting and placing it down. He sighed and continued, "Fili is almost nine years old and he can barely lift his hammer, much less make his target. And as for his brother, he has – "

"Because it is far too heavy for him! And Kili has plenty of time – they both do!" I ignored his sigh, throwing his hands up in frustration that I would not see his side. Why could he not see that my children – his nephews – wanted so desperately to please him but they were not yet old enough or big enough for the things he expected of them? It was all so beastly unfair – cruel – of him to expect from my boys what was not expected of him and our brother. "Frerin was not made to take up his first weapon until the age of ten!"

"Yes! And Frerin is dead! Is that what you want for your boys?"

A horrified silence descended between us, even Dwalin at his anvil at the back of the forge stopped his hammering. Despite the heat, my brother's face paled as I suspected my own had. We spoke of Frerin, of course, we did, we had to so that my sons might know they would have had two uncles if not for the evils of the world. We did not speak of his death. Not even when the memory of it from half a century ago woke my elder brother up screaming out his name. Thorin turned away from me, shoulders heaving, clearly as shocked as I was at his outburst. Eventually, Dwalin took up his hammering again. Still my brother did not turn. I didn't know what to say. Frerin's death had ever been a topic of silent contemplation for us, not something to be hurled at one another in the heat of an argument.

"They have to learn," my brother repeated quietly, his back to me. "As I did."

The steely sorrow in his voice gave me pause. I was furious and beyond hurt, certainly, but something in the way his shoulders slumped spoke to me of a deeper reasoning. I had not the time to speak with him for I needed to get home to my little ones – I had been informed of the disastrous training session and the criticism from my brother that my boys had endured and been so incensed that I had come here immediately. My ire only receded when I came upon him and saw his face. Although carefully masked in his usual self-righteousness and clearly still severely agitated by the day's events, I knew my elder brother of old and I knew how his guilt seemed non-existent but for the minimal tightening of his jaw and flinching as he heard his offences laid bare.

"I…I have to go," I told him quietly, "I will speak with them about today but I have told you my thoughts on the matter. They will not change."

As I turned to leave, I heard him sigh heavily before taking up his tools again and returning to work.

I opened the door to my boys' room knowing they would be there, no doubt banished to it by my brother several hours earlier. They looked up as I entered, dashing tears from their cheeks and sliding off the bed to come to me. I thought very darkly of my brother as I embraced them, lifting Kili into my arms and walking back to the bed. For a little while none of us spoke, Kili sitting wide-eyed on the pillows watching as I rubbed soothing ointment over his brother's aching shoulders.

"Is Uncle very angwy?" my youngest murmured, dark eyes serious.

"No," I assured him wearily, "Uncle is not angry."

"Is he disappointed?" Fili asked, raising his eyes to mine.

I sighed and leant back, drawing his hands into mine. "Uncle is…troubled, but he was wrong to upset you as he did."

"Uncle did not upset me, Mama, I was upset because…" he stopped, lower lip quivering. I reached out, raising his chin to look into his watery eyes.

"What upset you, my son?"

"I cannot lift it, Mama, not properly." The shame in my son's voice made me want to hurl every tool in my brother's workshop at their supercilious master.

"I know," I whispered, wiping away his tears. "But you will, one day."

"Uncle wants it now."

"Then Uncle will have to wait, until you are bigger."

Fili sniffled, gazing unhappily at me. "You do promise I will get bigger?"

"Of course," I laughed, brushing the wild locks away from his face, "why ever would you not?"

Fili shrugged, looking away embarrassed. He was admittedly going through a short phase; all his friends suddenly seemed so much taller and broader than he, I wondered if it might be the reason for my brother's sudden insistence that he move up a grade in weaponry.

"Will I get bigger?" came a small voice to my left.

"Course you will," replied Fili easily, before I could answer.

"As big as Fili?" Kili asked me suspiciously, unsure as to whether his brother was lying to him.

"Maybe."

"As big as Uncle Thowin?"

"No!" Fili giggled, as if his brother had said something absolutely ridiculous.

I leant over and pushed some of Kili's dark hair behind his ears – I really ought to braid it more but it only falls out five minutes later. "Well," I said smiling at him, "why not?"

Fili giggled again and wiped away the last of his tears, "Kili will never be as big as Thorin, Mama, he's too little!"

"But you just said I'd grow!"

"Not that much – Mama tell him!"

"You will both grow as to be as big and as strong as your Uncle if," I raised my brows at them, "if you eat your vegetables."

"Even the – ?"

"Even the green ones, yes, Kili." My youngest pouted thoughtfully, seemingly trying to weigh up whether it was worth it. "Now," I said, reaching to tickle them both lightly, "your Uncle will be home soon and I will not have you go to bed looking like little goblin boys so to the bathing chamber, both of you!" If nothing else, the warm water would soothe my eldest son's sore muscles. My brother's stupidity quite astounded me – not only had he succeeded in shaming my poor child, he had injured him with his insistence that he keep trying when he so clearly couldn't manage what was being asked of him. He would not have treated our brother in such a way, I'm certain.

Despite their disastrous training session (if one could call it that) and although my elder son's eyes still filled off and on, they both chattered quite happily while they bathed. I did perhaps allow them to splash both me and each other more than usual. As I was lifting Kili from the tub, we heard heavy footsteps pass the door heading to my brother's rooms. We all froze though I must confess it took all my self-control not to charge after him and berate him once again. There was time for that later, when the boys were in bed and could not hear if he chose to say such hurtful things again.

"Mama?"

I turned back to my youngest, his plump little face suddenly full of worry again. "What is it, my dear one?" Alarmed, I drew him to me as he burst into tears. I looked to Fili for explanation but he shook his head, unwilling to betray his little brother's confidences. "Kili?"

My son took several shuddery breaths, pushing back from me and gazing at me with his dark, shame-filled eyes. "Mama, I – " he choked on a sob, my dear, devoted Fili going to comfort him.

"Kili? Kili tell Mama – she will not be angry, I'm sure," he implored, glancing to me for confirmation.

His brother managed to swallow his sobs just long enough to choke out "Mama, I hit Uncle Thowiiiiin!" his last syllable dragged out as his wailing overcame him again. Relieved and, I confess, slightly amused, I gathered him to me once more, petting his soft hair.

"That was naughty indeed, Kili," I told him as firmly as I could bear to while he was so distressed, "but surely, it is not worth so many tears?"

"But – but what if I hurted him?" He hiccoughed, blinking at me sadly. This time, I did share a tiny smile with my elder son. The very thought of Kili – whom my brother could stand on his knee and still be almost a whole head taller than – being able to injure my sturdy older brother with his little fists was entirely ludicrous. Even so, my son looked so distraught at the thought of it that I did not dare laugh for fear of upsetting further.

"Nay," I said, shaking my head at him, "you could not hurt him, Kili. And he knows you would never have meant to. Do not worry so."

Kili began to nod but stopped suddenly as the door to our chamber opened. My soot-blackened brother appeared in the doorway having stripped off his jerkin and boots leaving him in undershirt and trousers clearly expecting us to have vacated the bathing chamber. At the sight of my brother however, Kili dissolved into tears once more. Thorin paused on the door threshold, face slackening in shock at Kili's reaction and looking as though he would dearly like to leave again.

"Uncle," Fili began timidly, "you are not angry at Kili, are you?" My heart swelled with pride – my brave little Fili, putting aside his own upset and fears of my brother to gain reassurance for his brother. Crossing to us, Thorin dropped to one knee beside me, surprise and concern showing openly upon his face.

"Angry?" He asked, his gaze flicking briefly to Fili. "Nay, I am not angry. Why should I be?"

"He's scared…because he hit you."

My brother released a short huff of laughter, raising one hand to my younger son's shaking back. "Kili? Kili, come now, what is this?"

I felt Kili pause in his crying at the gentle touch and his uncle's unusually concerned voice. I know from my own experiences of him both as a child and into my adulthood that my brother, for all his tempers and his gruff exterior, can be quite the master at comfort. When he feels he absolutely has to be. Sniffling, Kili turned his head towards my brother now, though he remained half hidden against my neck.

"What is this?" Thorin repeated softly, his hand moving to brush the wild hair away from Kili's face. Leaning forwards, he lifted my son from my arms – damp towel and all – and stood with him, hushing him quietly. "Kili, hear me," he said gently, though his brows were furrowed, "I am not angry about today – you were very brave to defend you brother as you did. I am certain he is grateful to have such a fierce younger brother behind him, protecting him from," he paused and looked at Fili and myself, "from those tyrants who would do him wrong, even if they do not intend it as such."

I reached out one arm and drew Fili closer to my side, returning the small smile he sent me.

"Not cross?" Kili asked in a small voice, clutching at Thorin's shirt though not daring to look at him.

"No, lad," Thorin confirmed, his eyes crinkling at the corners, "not cross." Drawing him away from his chest, my brother looked down at Kili intently. "And you, little one, are you still cross at me for ill-treating your big brother so?"

Kili's brow furrowed seriously, his little face so alike my brother's but for his eyes. "You shouted vewy loud, Uncle," he said uncertainly. He slid his gaze to Fili and myself, eyes questioning. I felt somewhat irked that my brother had chosen to seek forgiveness from my youngest first who was bound to forgive him anything, and I scowled knowingly at Thorin. Still, it would not do to have either of my boys at odds with their beloved uncle if only for their own happiness. And, though I felt it an injustice to my elder son for Thorin had yet to admit any wrongdoing – to him at least – I nodded slightly. Beside me, Fili simply said, "It's all right, Kili."

Kili turned back to my brother, who raised his brows encouragingly at him. My son's face lit up and he beamed happily at him, wrapping pudgy arms around his neck once more. Placing him back on the floor, Thorin looked at him in mock sternness.

"You, young sir, are filthy."

"But we just had a bath!" Outraged and dismayed, Kili turned to me for support. "Mama, tell him!"

Regrettably, my brother was right. Although Kili had been clean, he had also just spent several minutes wrapped in my brother's filthy, blackened arms and rubbing his face against Thorin's soot-stained beard.

"You got him dirty," I pointed out mildly, standing and defiantly taking Fili's hand to lead him to the door. "And you're about to bathe anyway." My brother's resigned, slightly pleading, "Sister!" was quite satisfying as we left the room.

When Thorin and Kili eventually reappeared, Fili and I were sat in my sons' bed whilst I told him tales of my brothers' exploits as children in Erebor (though I did not recall many of the events myself). Some of them were, I admit, embellished whilst others were decidedly censored for his ears. I suspect however, that he has heard the same stories in full from others – Dwalin is particularly fond of telling tales and the filthier and more inappropriate the better.

Thorin entered, Kili wrapped in his now (almost) clean arms and snoring quietly. Seeing this, I slid from the bed so that Thorin could reach across Fili, who held carefully still so not to jostle them, and place Kili down. As he drew back, Thorin brushed one hand across Fili's golden head. Crouching on the floor next to him, Thorin gazed at him intently for a moment. Fili looked back nervously, unsure if he was about to be reprimanded again.

"I could not strike an axe or hammer blow sufficient to do any more than knock someone off their balance until I was near seventeen," my brother announced suddenly, studying my son's face for his reaction. "My grandfather – your great-grandfather, Thror – bade me take up training from the age of six; I could not lift a sword, let alone a hammer."

Fili watched him with such open astonishment that I had to fight a grin. My brother was flushing fiercely despite telling my son these truths of his own accord – it did not erase his earlier misconduct but I did feel a swell of affection for my proud older brother returning.

"When you are better," Thorin continued, rubbing my son's shoulder regretfully, "we shall put aside the hammer for now and begin with the sword. There is no shame in a sword, not if it is wielded skilfully."

"What if I cannot lift that either?" Fili asked plaintively, his eyes filling.

"We shall begin with a wooden one – I haven't a real one small enough for you yet and your Mother," he paused and glanced up at me, "would no doubt object to my letting you loose with metal straight away."

Fili turned and shot an annoyed look at me. Thank you, Brother, for placing all blame on me. He was right, of course, but from memories of my own training, it was he who had demanded I not be let loose with a real sword until I had practiced for at least two years.

"Kili should learn too – I'm sure he could lift a wooden sword if it were very little," Fili said, eyeing both of us hopefully. A rare, delighted grin spread across my brother's face then and he suddenly drew my son into an embrace.

"Yes," he agreed, squeezing Fili tightly, "Yes, Kili must learn too."

"If he starts now though," Fili said, suddenly uncertain, "by the time he's my age he'll be better than me!"

Both my brother and I laughed a little at his concerns. "He may not favour the sword, Fili, or you might return to the hammer – do not worry."

"Anyway, what if he is?" Thorin asked, his voice taking on a slight warning tone. "You may be glad to know it one day."

"Was Uncle Frerin ever better than you? Or at least as good as?"

My brother paused and his suddenly troubled eyes sought me out. I felt my chest constrict, and I nodded slightly, placing my hand on his shoulder. He placed one of his own, paw-like hands over mine, squeezing slightly. "No," he said finally, "no, he was not." And Frerin is dead, I thought.

Fili nodded sleepily then, turning over to face Kili and wrapping one arm over him as always. Dismissed, Thorin walked us both to the door, his hand still loosely wrapped around mine. Closing the door, he turned to me, a troubled frown gracing his features.

"Sister, I – "

"Don't. Please, let me speak."

He nodded reluctantly.

"You should not have shouted at them as you did, nor forced Fili to continue through his pain," I told him sternly.

"I thought only to – " he broke off, jaw working furiously, "I did not know, did not see he was in such pain."

"He hid it from you well," I conceded, knowing how my son would have fought to keep his uncle from seeing his struggle. "But you should have seen, Thorin."

"I didn't realise it was that bad," he admitted regretfully. Suddenly, a thought seemed to strike him and a small grin began to tug at the corner of his mouth, "Not even when Kili beat me so soundly for it."

"I hope you will learn from your punishment, Brother," I teased, feeling the warmth between us return.

He grinned but suddenly, sobered. "Frerin would not have fought for me as your little one did for Fili," he informed me a touch of bitterness entering his voice.

"You are not so terrifying a master as Thror or our father," I told him, placing my hand on his folded arms. "Kili knows he needn't fear you, not really."

My brother snorted. "Does he indeed?"

"And Frerin would have you know, if you had let him."

Thorin glared at me, though it was short-lived. "You are growing melancholy, Sister," he informed me dismissively though I know his thoughts were still on our brother. He led us down the passage to the kitchens adding, "And I am growing hungry, so enough of this now."

I laughed and bumped my shoulder with his. He returned it, winking at me fondly. I loved my big brother dearly though I was not blind to his flaws, and this side of him, this private side that proved he could be and was something besides Durin's heir had become so rare when we were children but had been lost completely in our days of wandering and grief. Now, settled and, for the most part happy here in Ered Luin, though it would never be Erebor, this side of him was beginning to return if only a little. Some part of me, the part that I would not reveal to my brother as long as I live– for he is yet the Prince – thinks that perhaps we could truly settle here and be happy. Be content.

I am a daughter of kings-under-the-mountain, a princess by birth, but first, I am a mother, first, I am a sister.