The fire was crackling in the hearth as Princess Frira hummed a quiet tune to herself. It was rare that she would ever lose sleep, but for some odd reason, the child within her belly would not stop squirming about. Instead of pestering her husband about it, the princess decided to go to the adjacent nursery to pass the time until the baby calmed down. She sat in her favorite armchair as she plucked some chords on her silver harp.

"Amama," came a small voice from the door, interrupting her humming. Her fingers stopped as she placed the instrument to the side. Her young son was standing at the door way, with a look of terror in his face, tears streaming down his cheeks, making his blue diamond eyes glisten in the firelight. He looked relieved to see her as he ran to her. "Amama!" He buried his face into her belly as he sobbed.

"Thorin! What's wrong, my love?" She lifted him up and held him in the crook of her arm. The young prince did not answer, but continued to cry. She rubbed his back in small circles as she cooed and hushed him. "Shh… It's all right, little one. I'm here. I'm here. Don't cry. I'm here."

His sobbing gradually became quieter as he could smell the oils in his mother's hair. The aroma, the patting and his mother's voice soothed him as he felt safe in her arms. Everything really was all right so long as she was there holding him close. He sniffled as his mother wiped the tears from his eyes with her sleeve. She smiled at him and gave him a soft kiss on the forehead.

"Better?" He nodded. But then the images of his nightmare came back to him as he gazed upon her face. Tears started to well up again. His bottom lip quivered ever so slightly. He tried to not cry again, but the thoughts running through his head scared him. "What is it, love?" She cupped his chin and looked deep into his eyes.

"Y-you… There was… I saw… Fire!" the fear came back to his face again. "There was a really big fire and you, you got lost in it! You, Uzbaba, the baby and Adada! There was fire everywhere and you were all gone. When the fire was out, I tried looking for you, but you never came back. I was so scared and all alone." He held onto her braided auburn hair, trying his best not to shed a tear. She sighed, pressed her forehead against his gently as she stroked his cheek with her fingers.

"But are you alone now, Thorin? Am I still gone or am I right here in front of you?" A small smile found its way across her son's lips as they looked into each other's eyes. Her eyes were warm and yet gleamed like topaz. He shook his head and wrapped his arms around her neck loosely. "Fire is nothing you should be afraid of either. We are the dwarves of the Line of Durin. Mahal himself made our people resistant to flames. You see, we all have a little ember inside of us that we kept from His forge. It's what keeps us alive and strong. No earthly flame can harm us, my love. It was just a dream. And what are dreams?"

"'They are things that will never be real unless we breathe life into them'," he answered.

"Do you WANT me to go away forever?"

"Never!"

"Then it'll never come true," Frira brushed his ebony hair from his face and nuzzled her nose against his, causing him to giggle. "Now do you feel better?" He nodded and gave her a big kiss on the cheek. She chuckled and lifted him off her belly. Just as she was doing so, she felt a strong kick coming from within. She cringed slightly, though trying not to make a big deal of it for the sake of her son.

"Is baby being naughty again?" Thorin sat on the ottoman footstool and looked up at his mother. He had seen her wince like this before. She told him that the little one insider her belly was quite rowdy. "Was I like that, Amama? Was I a naughty baby too?"

"No, Thorin, my love. You were a very gentle baby. But yes, this one is quite the feisty one," she placed a hand on her belly, feeling yet another kick at her side. "He won't let me sleep tonight with all this kicking."

The young prince's eyes widened and then looked worried, "Stop hurting Amama, baby!" He crossed his arms and furrowed his brow. He looked a lot like his father Thrain when he was like this. It made Frira laugh aloud but for some reason it warranted another kick.

Then it occurred to Thorin. "Maybe baby is having bad dreams too." He then leaned over placed his tiny hands on her bulging belly, bringing his cheek to her skirt. "Don't worry, baby. I'm here. Don't be scared. You're safe in Amama's tummy. Did I scare you with my silly dreams, baby? I'm sorry."

"I don't think it's your fault, Thorin," his mother was a bit surprised at how placid the unborn child was once her son started talking to it. She smiled and ran her hand through his hair lovingly. "You will be a great big brother. The baby seems to like you."

His eyes then began to droop as slumber started to catch up to him. He yawned and nuzzled her belly. He drowsily looked up at Frira and smiled. "Amama? Can you sing us a lullaby? For baby and me?"

"Us?" She chuckled. "All right. But only one song and then it's off to bed, little one." He nodded lazily. She took her harp into her hand and began plucking a familiar tune. "Will you sing with me?" Together, they started to sing the words:

When the cold of winter comes

Starless nights will cover day

In the veiling of the sun

We will walk in bitter rain

But in dreams I can hear your name

And in dreams we will meet again

When the seas and mountains fall

And we come to end of days

In the dark I hear a call

Calling me there

I will go there and back again.

"Good night, Amama. Good night, baby," Thorin kissed her hand and then her belly, his eyes barely open now. Upon his face was a content grin. "I love you."

"I love you too. Good night, my little prince. May your dreams be full of wondrous things," she stroked his cheek with a smile. As the boy started to nod off, she summoned a wet nurse to take him back to his room. Frira then slowly made her way back to her own chambers to lie beside her husband and finally get some well-deserved sleep.

Yes, I do realize that these lyrics are not mine. They were written by Fran Walsh and the tune is composed by Howard Shore. I couldn't find a more suitable song to add to this story, so I decided to go with this one. I am NOT claiming that the lyrics are mine!

With that out of the way, this is my first fic with toddler Thorin. I have always written him as an adult or as a teenager, but never a child and certainly never while he was still the only son of Thrain. I read this headcanon somewhere that his mother was the one who taught him how to play the harp and sing. I actually liked that idea and went with it.

I named her Frira because I figured that Frerin need to have been named after someone in the family. Thorin is obviously a name from one of his ancestors and it sounds enough like Thror and Thrain. Since Frerin's the second-born, maybe they didn't really care as much about who he was named after because he technically would never rule as King Under the Mountain.

It was very interesting to write Thorin as being an innocent child. He's always been the responsible older brother/ uncle/ leader in my eyes so I thought it would be nice to portray him as a wide-eyed babe, you know? "Amama" is a corruption of the Khuzdul word "Amad", meaning "Mother", "Adada" is "Adad" or "Father" and "Uzbaba" of "Uzbad" which is "Great Lord" and "baba/ papa" which some people use to call their Grandfather. I'm assuming those are the only Khuzdul words he knows as a child and it's a lot harder for him to pronounce it correctly at his age.

Oh, also, his dream is somewhat prophetic. True, they don't actually die via flame, but they do all die rather gruesome deaths. I figured that Frira would have died a few years after giving birth to Dis from some sickness, possibly Consumption ("consumed"... get it?) Thror becomes mad with Dragon-sickness, ultimately leading to his death in Moria. Frerin was consumed by the flames of war. Thrain was also consumed by greed, leading to his failed quest and subsequent imprisonment.

Please tell me what you think. ^^;; Hopefully this reason isn't too half-assed.