Trying my hand at one of these fives times (something) and one time(something) things. Not good enough to make it all in a one-shot, and I was a bit pressed for time, so it's going to be a multichapter type event.

The Hobbit characters, places, etc. belong to J. R. R. Tolkien and film rights go to P. Jackson and associates.

Thanks for reading!

Balin cursed under his breath. Surely he was needed elsewhere! Had Father not put the idea forth he'd be doing something useful! Or if it had only been Father who asked, then he would have tried to show him reason.

But it is different with one's Father, than one's King!

'There are many young Dwarves who would like nothing more than to take up their sword and your place.'

'To be sure King Thrain. I thank you!'

Balin had rarely regretted the closeness of his familial line to that of the Durin's, however distant it was, and the closeness of his father and the King. But training the eldest Prince was not the most desirable...plainly the young dwarf did not want to do it!

It was an unspoken secret Prince Thorin was a little brat! Perhaps not brat, but he seemed aware (despite his young age) that really only his Mother and Father could punish him severely (and Balin was of the opinion this didn't happen enough! Though he saw the young Prince become calm and obedient once the King' s eyes were upon him, which was more infuriating.*), even his tutors had a limited authority over him.

But then Dwalin was encouraged to train alongside! His little brother could be quite the trouble maker alone, and the two beardlings' puckishness seemed to intensify once with each other! Close to the same age, with Thorin only a bit older, it was a miracle if one could keep them still for anything!

And now, having lost them, Balin would have liked nothing more than to leave. Just to leave and let whoever may find them.

How had it happened? He was helping Dwalin with his stance...looked to check on the Prince, and saw he was gone...then when he turned back to his brother the little menace was also missing. They were fast, and had probably conspired beforehand.

He saw glimpses of them here and there, black locks of hair ducking behind a corner, and giggling when his back was turned! And now they were gone completely!

"I will take both over my knee and threaten to do worse if they tell!" The young dwarf seethed out loud.

He stopped. There was a crash close by, and the unmistakable sound of a child's wailing. Two, actually.

Following the crying, Balin found himself in one of the kitchens, and eventually in front of the two troublemakers.

A stool overturned, pots and pans scattered all around, and in the middle of it all sat two little dwarflings, screaming their hearts out and faces moist with tears.

Thorin had a hand to the back of his head and was rubbing it tentatively, screaming "Mama! Mama! Maaammmaaa!"

Dwalin was rubbing his arm and when he saw his brother, automatically held his arms out, calling his name with as much force as his friend. Despite his personal opinion that the two were overreacting for their age, Balin picked Dwalin up and sat him on a nearby counter.

Then hurried to Thorin, who began crying more loudly when he saw his playmate had received comfort, and sat him next to Dwalin.

Putting a hand over both their mouths, which silenced them, Balin commanded to two to let him have a look.

He lowered Thorin's little paw, and moved the midnight locks back to see his head. A somewhat...er, medium-ish knot had formed. Well...it wasn't bleeding.

"Oh, your fine! Just a little bump."

"I want Mama!" The little Prince cried, eyes and cheeks wet with tears and his little hand held on to the elder Dwarf's sleeve tightly as he said so.

"Oh, you'll be fine!" He assured, moving to Dwalin. His little brother's arm had a small bruise on it, but that was all.

"You're fine!"

"Nooo, 'm not!" Was the tearful retort.

"Yes you are! Both of you. What happened here anyway?"

Dwalin pointed to the shelf above the mess of pot and pans, and Balin almost laughed. There sat a full biscuit jar, on the top shelf. Dwalin was always trying to discreetly get into the one at their dwelling, and must have convinced Thorin to try the same.

In their own dwelling, the jar was only so high up, his little brother needed only one chair to reach. They must have tried to balance on the stool and found it wasn't enough, hence all the spilt cookery.

Balin looked back at the duo. No impish sneers, or puckish looks. No rebellious glares or planning stares, only tear-stained cheeks, wide and wet eyes, and pouting little mouths. They both looked so little and heart-broken and, and...blast it!

The elder dwarf went to the shelf and after successfully balancing on the stool, retrieved the jar.

"Did you two learn your lesson?" He asked.

They nodded.

"And what was that, then?"

They looked to one another blankly, and then back to Balin.

"You should listen to your elders and not try to run from your training lessons!"

They both nodded in understanding.

"Sorry, Balin." Dwalin uttered.

"Sorry."

"Glad to hear...and just for that, I won't tell Father." He said, then to Thorin, "Or the King."

His little brother held his arms out, eyes still wide. Balin put the jar aside and covered his little sibling in a forgiving embrace. Then pulled in the little Prince, who looked ready to start crying again when he saw himself receiving no hug.

Letting go, the elder Dwarf then took up the jar and pulled two biscuits and passed them out. "Next time it will do better for you lads to simply ask."

They nodded, mouths full.

* I love the idea of Thorin being a mean little kid XD Don't judge me interweb!

Reviews always welcome! =)