Their entrance to the town of Larendren had been uneventful. This was Ranger territory and was safe to travel and do business in. Once every few years Thorin brought his blacksmithing business to town along with an assortment of the best weapons as well as some well-crafted household tools and cooking pots. It was far beneath the work he used to do on fine weaponry where he had overlaid the base metal with silver, gold and mithril, but one does what one must to make a living.

Larendren, while not large, was prosperous, sitting on the eastern shore of Lake Evendim where the land was rich and the winters not as bitter as they were high in the Blue Mountains. The residents of the town were tall-folk, or Men, as they preferred to be called. But more important they were the descendants of the Númenóreans and many were Dúnedain; Rangers who would purchase well-crafted weapons and even contract for custom items.

Even Dwarves had heard of Rangers and, like people everywhere, told and retold stories of the great battles they fought and knew that they were heroes. More than one dwarfling had gone to his slumber dreaming of going into battle wearing a silver star with his brother Rangers at his side.

When he had heard that there was to be a journey to Larendren Fili had begged to go. He was a master craftsman and felt that, with his uncle leading the expedition, that he should take part in it…in case someone needed one of the weapons he'd forged adjusted, you know.

Thorin had planned to invite him anyway, but it amused him to see his nephew present such well-thought-out arguments in favor of joining them. Fili was past old enough to come along and had missed the last trip because Balin swore that he could not take four months away from his lessons, or the lad would not be able to count more than the sum of his fingers.

Provisions had been packed, goodbyes said and Fili had climbed onto the wagon to take the reins of the ponies. He was responsible for the wagon with their supplies and, even though it wasn't the one with the precious forge, he was very proud to have been entrusted with the responsibility. He sat up straight; his golden hair gleaming in the sun, new clothes bright and pressed. He nodded at the dwarflings and dwarrowdams as he drove past them. Today, more than ever before, he felt like Fili, son of Vili, heir to Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain.

Once out of town Fili quickly discovered why the others had been less excited. It was a long way to Larendren. It took twelve long boring days to reach the outskirts of town. By that time the last thing he wanted to do was set another camp. He wanted to go into town and get a hot meal that he hadn't helped to cook and an even hotter bath. Unfortunately, with the town and its inn beckoning, he had to stay behind while his uncle went to treat with the mayor and arrange their stay. Fili tried not to pout as he went about the now-hated setup and readied the camp for Thorin's return.

In the morning, they relocated to a suitable spot at the other edge of town. Fili helped Thorin unload the portable forge. It was heavy and had to be placed carefully. Men and not a few Wo-men were arriving, claiming to just want to have a look. Fili smiled and nodded to them all. He knew that lookers would turn into buyers as soon as they were set up. It wasn't often that goods of Dwarven quality would be available and customers were already craning their necks and trying to see into the tents.

Fili backed up and almost fell over a child, who toppled to land hard on the packed ground. Quickly, he reached out and pulled the boy upright, dismayed that a thin trickle of blood was seeping from the corner of the lad's mouth.

The young prince's Westron wasn't as good as Balin would have liked, but it sufficed.

"I am sorry I hurt you," Fili said quickly, as pulled a relatively clean kerchief from his pocket and wiped the blood from the boy's face. "You should know better than to get in people's way when they are working."

"Sorry," the boy mumbled, trying not to cry. He was ten going on eleven and much too old to be sniveling in front of strangers. "I've never seen Dwarves before. I didn't mean to get in the way." He mopped at the blood and then spat a wad of red onto the ground. "I bit my tongue."

He made a show of pushing on his teeth with his tongue. "Don't think anything's loose," he reported to Fili's relief. "Stings though."

"I expect it does." Fili looked at the boy who was all arms and legs and a shock of unruly curly dark hair that fell to his shoulders and into his eyes. And those eyes… They were huge and a dark honey that shaded to gold in the sunlight. He was going to be a heartbreaker when he grew into that lanky body.

"Do you think some sweet tea and a biscuit would help the sting?" Without waiting for an answer, he strode to the mess tent with the boy following like a puppy.

As he poured the tea and untinned the biscuits Fili asked, "So what do you think of Dwarves?"

The boy shrugged. "You look different from Hobbits, but bigger than I was told."

"So are you disappointed in us?" Fili teased.

"Naw, I think you look good with the beards. I hope I grow up as strong as you are. Bet you could take on a bear."

"No, I do not think so." Fili was amused by the boy's mix of disappointment and admiration. He wasn't a freak and he was strong. Not too bad, all things considered.

The mug was taken with enthusiasm and surprising manners. So he wasn't an urchin after all. Fili set the plate of honey biscuits next to him and watched as he waited for further permission to have one and then a second one and then the rest. The prince mused that whoever he belonged to must spend half their income feeding him.

Fili got a mug of tea for himself and grabbed the next-to-last biscuit. "I'm Fili. What is your name?"

"Kili," the lad said through a mouthful of biscuit. "'s short for Kiliardil."

The Dwarf laughed, startling the boy, who drew his thick brows down in a scowl.

"I meant no offence Young Ranger," Fili said gently. "But our names match. I did not expect that a Man would have a name like mine."

Kili jammed the biscuit into his cheek so that he could speak. "And I never thought you'd have a Dúnedain name. It's kinda weird."

Fili smiled. "I believe it is called a coincidence."

It amused him that the boy's name was so like his own. Standing up, he bowed and announced with such formality that Fili could barely keep from laughing, "I am Kiliardil, son of Kiliardath. When I am grown I will be Dúnedain and protect the East."

Allowing himself only a slight smile, Fili nodded. "I am pleased to meet you, Kiliardil, son of Kiliardath, soon to be Dúnedain."

He stood and bowed. "I am Fili, son of Vili, heir to Thorin, King of Erebor."

Kili's eyes widened. "You're a…a prince?"

Fili laughed and laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. "No lad, I am a simple weaponsmith and craftsman from the Blue Mountains. I am heir only to a kingdom that is no more. It fell long before your grandparents were born."

He grinned widely and winked. "But you have to admit that it sounds impressive."

The boy laughed and relaxed. "It sure does. But can I tell people that I met a real prince?"

"I cannot tell you what to say," Fili chuckled. "But if they come looking for a crown I'm afraid they will be disappointed."

Kili pulled himself up to his full height, which was six inches shorter than Fili, and proclaimed, "On this day I have met a Prince. A Dwarven Prince, Fili son of Bili."

"Vili," Fili quietly corrected.

"Vili and he will get his kingdom back some day." Kili was quite pleased with his proclamation and stood there for a moment looking up at Fili with eyes filled with hero worship.

"And with faith like that, we shall certainly reclaim our lost kingdom," Fili responded solemnly. "Perhaps with the help of a Ranger."

Kili put his hand on his chest where the star would be worn. "I promise to help. No one can stand against a Ranger of the North."

"Of that I have no doubt." Fili was amused by the boy, but also saw the beginnings of a warrior. When he was grown he would be an impressive Dúnedain.

"Well, we have had our tea and treats and now I must return to setting up, or our customers will be very disappointed." Fili gestured to the door of the tent and Kili obediently went out.

Once outside he stopped and looked at Fili, the big eyes hopeful. "I got in your way and I'm sorry, but I'm strong and I can help."

Trying not to smile, Fili nodded. "I am sure you are, but your mother and father be worried about you if you're gone too long." He really didn't want a young boy around either their weapons or the forge.

Kili shook his head, curls flying wildly. "Nope. My da is dead. He was killed fighting Orcs. He's a hero." He smiled even though he looked a little sad. "My mum is taking care of my sister and working in the garden. She told me to see what you have for sale and to behave myself."

"Oh, so you have a mission." Fili smiled and picked up the sledge to drive in a tent stake. "You could help by pulling on that rope and securing it after I get this stake driven in."

Very seriously Kili nodded and bent to his task of tying off the ropes that held the tent. He looked up at the straggling townspeople and turned to Fili. "Aren't you going to put out anything for sale? Mr. Wrightson and Mr. Hod were in the stable talking about things they needed to look at when you were set up."

Amused, Fili stopped hammering in the tent stake and asked. "And what were you doing in the stable?"

Those massive brows pulled down again and Kili snorted, sounding a bit like one of the ponies. "Shoveling shit, not that it's any business of yours. I help my mum any way I can."

Fili felt a little embarrassed by his own words. "I am sorry I made sport of you. You are a good son, to help your mother like that. What say you to a bit more work and a few coppers in your pocket for your trouble?

"If you will get out the cloths in that box and cover the tables, I will bring out our wares and you can help me finish setting up."

"If I don't have to shovel horse shit, I'm in," Kili responded with a grin, his face sunny again.

Fili vanished into the tent and returned with a heavy box that he set next to the closest table. "Put the cast iron out for me. Mind you, don't touch the weapons, they are sharp."

Kili snorted. "Of course they're sharp." He looked at the blond with his brows pulled down far enough to shade his eyes to black. "My da taught me how to handle a knife when I learned to walk. I'm ten now and can fight with a sword too, if it's not too big. I have my own bow and go hunting. I feed my family well."

Chastened by the boy's words, Fili dropped his eyes. "I apologize, Kiliardil, son of Kiliardath of the Dúnedain. Of course you'd know weapons. For a moment I forgot where we are."

That was twice he had underestimated the boy and knew it was pure prejudice. He'd been brought up to believe that Men were stupid and lazy. Well, perhaps some were, but Kili was Dúnedain and by all counts a sharp lad who could keep anyone on their toes, even a Dwarf. He wouldn't make that mistake again. It was too embarrassing.

Fili carried out boxes to set next to the tables. He had to admit that the lad did a good job. The tables were covered neatly, the cloths sitting square and smoothed out ready for goods to be laid upon them. He showed the boy how to set things down with the handle toward the customer, grouping the items each with their own kind. When they were finished Fili barely had a chance to admire their work before the townspeople started moving in.

He was haggling with a Man, who was obviously not a Ranger, over the price of a knife when he heard Kili behind him.

"Do you think that the Dwarves came all the way from Ered Luin to give away their goods?" The boy's words were sharp and his countenance dark. He took the ladle from the woman's hand and put it back on the table. She reached for it again and he looked as if he was going to slap her hand.

Fili quickly interceded. "What seems to be the problem?"

The woman scowled at Kili and then looked at Fili with a much softer expression. "The brat didn't think my offer was fair."

"What did you offer?" he asked mildly, turning his head so that he could wink at Kili without her seeing.

"Two coppers. My last ladle only cost me one," she replied haughtily.

Fili smiled. "And that is why you need a new one now. I am afraid that it is true that you get what you pay for. This one is three coppers and you will be able to pass it on to your granddaughter."

He turned back to his previous customer leaving the woman to frown at a grinning Kili. Out of the corner of his eye he could see that she dropped three copper coins on the table, picked up the ladle and marched off as if her arse was on fire.

By the time Thorin and Dwalin returned they had done a brisk business and most of the lookie-loos had actually purchased something. Kili took no prisoners. He knew most of them by name and repeatedly called them out until they had reluctantly shuffled forward and bought what they had been eyeing. True, none of it was high priced, but they had amassed a sizeable enough stack of coppers and one silver, considering that they weren't even open for business yet.

The two Dwarves came over, Dwalin scowling as usual, and Thorin looking askance at his nephew and the young human boy. Kili slipped behind Fili and peered out at them as the less scary one spoke to Fili.

"I thought I told you to set up camp for the night, not to open shop." Thorin was pleased that Fili had taken the initiative, but at the same time annoyed for the same reason. He was used to having his orders followed to the letter.

Fili, accustomed to Thorin's ways, just smiled a little and set the box with their earnings on the table. His uncle's eyebrow rose as he did a mental count. "So, you have earned us a nice profit for the day…and I see you have made a friend."

As the boy peered out at him, his face softened and he smiled gently. "Who might you be?"

Kili stepped out from behind Fili and squared his shoulders. "I am Kiliardil, son of Kiliardath."

"He is Dúnedain," Fili said, looking at the boy fondly. "His father was a Ranger who was killed in battle. He has been helping me. I promised him a few coppers for his efforts."

Thorin knew they had no need of assistance, let alone someone they'd have to pay, but the lad was dressed shabbily and it was painfully obvious that he could use all the coin he could come by.

Thorin nodded. "Aye, we can always use a good hand. A Ranger, is it? Then you will be worth twice as much. Did my nephew inform you that meals come with the job?" Wide-eyed Kili shook his head. "No? Well then, consider yourself told."

He started to turn and noted the boy's eyes on Dwalin. He turned to his cousin, who had been paying far more attention to Bombur, who was stirring something in a large pot over a roaring fire. "Say hello to the lad, you auld sod, and stop scaring him."

Dwalin started and looked from Thorin to Kili in confusion. "I am not scarin' anyone, ya old grump. I am hungry and he is not hardly a mouthful."

The boy's eyebrows shot up and he quickly stepped behind Fili again. Dwalin threw back his head and laughed. He leaned over and extended his hand. Kili looked at it and at Fili, who smiled at him and nodded encouragement. Slowly he let the huge tattooed hand engulf his and then shake it.

"I will'na eat you, laddie. I am a warrior, I am s'posed to look scary."

"You do," Kili agreed, looking up at Dwalin's roach of hair, tattoos, and the chunk that was missing from his ear.

They all laughed and Dwalin clapped him hard enough on the shoulder to nearly knock Kili to the ground. "Well, you are gonna be a Ranger and people will be a lot more scared of you than they ever will be of me. Maybe we will fight together sometime and kill us a few Orcs."

Kili grinned, his fear of Dwalin gone. "Yeah. We'll kill 'em all!"

"Indeed we will, laddie. Indeed we will."

Kili was introduced to Bombur, the large and jolly cook who had come along ostensibly to act as chef, but was really there for a peaceful vacation away from his growing family. And his brother Bofur, who stated he was there for the craic, but was really there to assist his cousin Bifur in selling the beautifully intricate toys he made and to sell his own toys and gadgets. Bifur fascinated the lad by way of having the head of an Orc axe buried in his forehead.

He caught Kili staring at it and gently pantomimed getting hit in the head. Bofur leaned around his cousin and said, "It was an Orc axe, laddie. It got stuck and we could'na take it out. He is not able to talk Common anymore, but he understands what you say. He will'na hurt you."

Kili pulled himself up tall and held out his hand. "I'm pleased to meet you Mr. Bifur. My da was killed by an Orc. When I grow up and become a Ranger I will kill them all so they can't hurt people anymore."

Bifur took the boy's hand, but instead of shaking it, pulled him in for a hug. He held him tight for a moment and then released him, turning to Bofur to say something unintelligible with both words and signs.

Bofur smiled, his silly hat and dangling mustache giving him a gentle comical air. "He says he knows you will be the bravest Ranger of them all."

This unexpected compliment left Kili unable to reply. He just stood there, face flaming, scuffing the dirt with his toe. Fili saved him by asking him if he wanted to go down to the lake to cool off and clean up.

He didn't need to be asked twice. He found a bit of energy he'd squirreled away and raced past the Dwarves as they were heading down to the water. He stripped quickly and raced out amid great splashes to throw himself headlong into the water and vanish beneath the surface.

Fili shouted and broke into a run with Bofur and Dwalin close behind. They nearly ended up in a heap as Fili slid to a stop when Kili's head appeared. The boy broke into a smooth breaststroke, propelling himself back to the shore and the startled Dwarves.

"You swim like a fish, laddie," Dwalin observed. He couldn't swim a stroke-most Dwarves couldn't-and was afraid of water that had any potential to be deep. He'd rather take on a whole Orc pack than to have to cross a river.

"My da taught me. I swim a lot. Are you going for a swim, Mr. Dwalin?" he asked cheerfully, shaking the water from his mane of hair.

"No lad, just a rinse tonight," Dwalin replied to the agreement of the rest of the company. "It is late and supper is nearly ready."

Kili was too busy watching Bombur float around like a large pink raft, to notice Fili getting in and then out of the water. The huge Dwarf seemed at home in the water, more so than the land, his corpulence making him extraordinarily buoyant for a Dwarf. After paddling around happily for a time, he eventually heaved back onto so that he could finish their supper.

After Kili dried off as best he could and dressed he came back to camp and was waved over to the table to eat. He sat amid the Dwarves and was stunned when Bombur set a huge bowl heaped with stew that had large chunks of meat swimming in rich brown gravy. Next to his bowl a half a loaf of bread appeared along with a quarter pound of butter. A tankard was placed next to the bread.

"A toast," Fili proclaimed. "To our helper who made the first sale of the trip."

They all raised their mugs in salute. Kili picked his mug up and found it was watered ale. The scent was rich and yeasty. He'd never had ale before. It tasted a little bitter, but not bad. He drank to his sale and to the Dwarves, who were nothing like he had been told. They were funny and caring and a little rowdy. Best of all, they accepted him as a fellow warrior. He dug into his stew feeling all grown up, with his silver star already shining on his chest.

When he was packed off home it was with a loaf of bread and the remainder of the stew. "Don't want it goin' off sitting around, lad," Bombur had said. "Take it home to your mum and sister as a favor to me."

His pocket was heavy with three coppers and there was the promise of five more if he came the next day. It beat shoveling horse manure for a copper a day, so he was back at the Dwarves' camp when the sun was barely lighting the sky.

Bombur was up first to get the breakfast started. He saw Kili shivering in the morning chill and motioned for him to come into the cook tent. He wrapped a blanket around the boy's shoulders and gave him a mug of hot tea and a chunk of bread to chew on until breakfast was ready.

Kili was content to sit and watch until he heard the rest of the Dwarves start to stir. He came out of the tent and was surprised to find that Fili was awake and washing up. The Dwarf was shirtless, scrubbing his face, chest and underarms with hot water he'd gotten from the large kettle Bombur always kept over a fire.

Fili hadn't noticed the boy. He'd wakened when he heard Bombur stirring and left his tent to take a deep breath of fresh air. It was sweet after a night closed in a small stuffy tent. He moved easily, shrugging out of his shirt and pulling his breeches low on his hips, ignoring the chill that made his pink nipples stand out through the curls. His long hair fell about his shoulders, almost feminine with its braids and waves. He'd gone over to the communal hot water pot and dipped out enough for his morning ablutions.

The boy came around the edge of the tent and stood transfixed. He'd never seen anyone built like Fili. His torso was long in relation to his legs and it was solid with muscle. Kili had never seen so much muscle on a man. Layers lay upon layers, from solid almost square pecs, to laterals that slid into a washboard pattern on his abdomen. And it was all covered with golden curls that glinted moistly in the light of the rising sun. The air was chill, even though summer was coming on strong and a mist of steam rose from the Dwarf's shoulders, giving him the appearance of a god or apparition not of this earth.

Kili couldn't stop staring. If ever there was perfection it was Fili.

He couldn't move his eyes until Bofur appeared behind him. He smiled as he laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Now you know why he's a Prince."

Kili nodded and then suddenly realized he was staring and rushed back into Bombur's tent blushing furiously. Bofur's gentle laugh followed him, but somehow he knew it would be their secret. The Dwarf would never mention it to anyone and only recall it many years in the future when they were all in need of comfort.

Breakfast was thick porridge sweetened with a goodly amount of raisins and honey. Amazingly there was also more meat. It was smoked and salty and chewy and he could have eaten it by the pound. The tea was herbal of some sort sweetened with honey and, like the rest of the breakfast, was absolutely delicious. If he ever decided not to be a Ranger, Kili told himself he was going to go up to the mountains and become a Dwarf.

Thorin told them that the spot they had chosen was acceptable with the town council, aka the Mayor, to whom everyone deferred. He seemed a decent enough sort, so Thorin expected no problems from that direction. Of course, the traditional "gift" of a well-crafted knife smoothed any rough edges that might have existed. And there would, of course, be discounts for the Mayor and his family, but a profit would be made and trade between their peoples would be assured for another four years.

They set up in earnest and Kili very much earned his five coppers with all the lifting and arranging, selling and occasional haggling. He was bold and didn't hesitate to step in when someone he knew appeared to be a little too aggressive in their demands. He knew that Men considered the Dwarves to be lesser beings and frankly it infuriated him. He'd had better treatment in the last two days from them than he'd ever had from his own people.

Lunch was the remainder of the porridge and sandwiches of the smoked meat between two slices of bread liberally spread with butter. And then it was back to work. The forge was going and needed to be kept hot, so Kili took over the job of making sure it was full of coal. He brought cool water to Thorin and Dwalin without being asked and kept the water keg full that was used for quenching the sword during tempering.

By evening he was exhausted, nearly falling asleep over his supper. Fili hitched up the team, gathered up a tired little Ranger and the leftovers as well as some provisions, and drove him home. He had trouble keeping the boy conscious long enough to guide him to the humble home at the edge of town. Once there, he helped him down and gave him a silver coin.

Kili blinked at it in the fading light certain his brain was playing tricks on him. "That's way too much," he protested.

Fili just smiled at him. "You worked like a Dwarf so you get paid like a Dwarf. You did the work of an adult today. Give it to your mother and be proud of yourself. Also come a bit later tomorrow. Give the sun time to rise. Okay?"

He nodded, still too amazed by the shining coin in his hand to talk.

His mother had heard the wagon and came out of the house with his little sister hanging onto her dress as she hid behind her mother.

Fili walked Kili up to her and bowed. "Fili, son of Vili at your service. Your son worked like a Man today. I am afraid we let him work too hard. Tomorrow we will take more care. You should be proud of him."

She didn't know what to make of the polite Dwarf standing before her, but she was aware that he was speaking high praise of her son and she smiled at him and did a little curtsey.

"My name is Mayree and hiding behind me is Kathanne. I do thank you very much. I am very proud of Kiliardil. He has had to be the man of the family for far too long, but he does an excellent job."

"Yes he does," Fili agreed. He looked back at the wagon. "Our cook brought too much along as usual and so we would like to share our excess with you if that would be agreeable."

Not certain what he was referring too—these Dwarves were so formal in their speech, it was a little confusing. 'Yes, I guess that would be all right," she said hesitantly.

Fili turned and dug into the back of the wagon, pulling out a large bag as well as a whole preserved ham. He carried them up to her and nodded toward the house. Hurrying ahead of him, she held the door and allowed him to place the items on the table.

"So much," she said in awe as he withdrew a good-sized round of cheese, a woven basket with a half a dozen eggs, a large tin of raisins, a slab of the smoked meat Kili liked so much, a bag of roasted hazelnuts (good for eating or baking,) two large loaves of bread and a slightly smashed fruitcake that Fili was glad to see being passed on before he had to eat any of it. And last…from a pocket in Fili's pants, a beautifully carved doll dressed in the prettiest pink dress.

He knelt in front of the child and held it out. She ducked behind her mother, thumb going instinctively to her mouth for reassurance.

"It is okay little one," he said gently. "She os from Bifur, he makes toys for pretty little girls like you. He said she is lonely since her friend went to a new home and wondered if you would give her a lot of love so she will not be lonely anymore."

Kathanne nodded, her eyes were dark and shining as she looked at the beautiful doll in the Dwarf's hand. She looked up at her mother, who smiled at her. "It's all right, you may take her."

Hesitantly she took a step forward, then snatched to doll and hugged her to her chest as hard as she could. She had never had a gift like this and was not going to be parted from it.

Fili chuckled as he stood. "I knew this was the place for her. I'll tell Bifur that she is going to be just fine here. You'll have to give her a name, you know."

The girl nodded. "Kiliardath after my da." She looked up at her mother and continued. "I asked her and she said it's okay."

There were tears in her mother's eyes. "Then I guess it's a perfect name, isn't it, Mr. Fili?"

"Yes," Fili replied. "I guess it is just about perfect."

Before he left she tried to object to him leaving so much food, but Fili would have none of it, he just kept reassuring her that it was extra. Finally he simply bowed and took his leave. She watched him from the window until he was out of sight.

She looked at her son, who was cracking a hazelnut for his sister and Kiliardath to eat. "I wonder if all Dwarves are like that."

Kili shook his head and smiled. "They are all very nice, but I think that one is special."

As the summer wore on Kili never worked as hard as he had that second day, but he did his share and more, always going home with at least five coppers in his pocket, the leftovers and soon, items that he had learned to craft himself, or their profits.

He was so eager to learn anything he could that Fili took him under his wing with Thorin's approval and taught him basic ironwork. He was an eager student, careful with the hot metal and had a quick mind when it came to working out a pattern. By the end of summer he'd replaced the rack for hanging pots in his mother's hearth and had given her all the cooking tools she could use. When his craft was fine enough, he proudly laid his own ironwork on the table to sell alongside the Dwarves'.

Even Thorin had to admit that the boy had talent and skill. "If you ever decide you do not want to be a Ranger, come and see me and we will find a place for you at our forge. You could be a weaponsmith. Fili could train you if he can ever figure out which end of a hammer to hold."

Fili laughed and threw the biscuit he was eating at his uncle. Thorin juggled it expertly for a moment, took a bite, and tossed it back.

"Seriously though, Thom at the smithy has noticed your work and would hire you on after we leave."

Kili looked up, saddened by the realization that his friends would have to return home soon. "I could do that, don't mind working hard."

Fili ruffled his hair. "That is very obvious. You have spoiled us for other helpers."

Kili was a bit spoiled himself. He had quickly gotten used to the camaraderie and humor, but one thing that surprised him was the Dwarve's love for music. He never would have thought for a minute these rough ironworkers would be interested in music, let alone making it. He was delighted to find that Thorin had an amazing deep voice and Bofur could sing a rowdy pub song with the best of them.

The first time they sat back after dinner, clean from the swim, full and content, and pulled instruments out of mysterious places, it amazed the boy. He sat there and listened to tunes the like of which no Man had ever heard. Thorin had a small harp that glowed gold in the setting sun, Dwalin produced a small hand-held drum, Bofur had a little shiny whistle, Bombur had his beloved spoons but Fili…Fili produced a fiddle. It was the rich gold of honey and engraved with mysterious geometric symbols. It was beautiful and Kili couldn't take his eyes off of it.

Kili had never heard music like this. I was as powerful as the mountains; the drum rolled like thunder, the lyrics to the songs Thorin sang were deep and ringing and made to fill halls of stone. But Fili's soaring fiddle with its silver notes lifted them and their tired spirits to the clouds. He played with such joy that you couldn't help but laugh as you watched him, head thrown back, grinning from ear to ear as his eyes danced with the same blue fire that flew from his bow.

The music was wild and free and made him want to stand up and dance or run off and do heroic things. It was so different than the music of Man. He heard it night after night and went to bed with the soprano song of the violin singing in his veins.

The concerts were almost nightly and provided a welcome release from the work and stress of the day. Kili had never cared much about music before, but now he was beginning to feel that he'd been missing something. He wished the Dwarves would be there long enough to let him beg lessons from Fili. Since that was impossible he contented himself with listening as hard as he could so he would remember every note, storing them always in his heart and deep in his soul.

The Dwarves' adoption of the boy had not gone unnoticed by the townsfolk. Chagrined that these strange beings from the mountains had more care for a widow and children than they did, Men took to stopping by and making repairs here and there on the old cabin. It wasn't that they were cold, but they had their own lives and it was easy to forget about someone who does not complain, even in a settlement of Dúnedain.

Kili had shown up one morning wide-eyed and had regaled them at breakfast with the tale that the roof had been repaired while he had been at work and how surprised and pleased his mother was. They had no family in the town, having moved there after an Orc raid had killed most of their village, so they had been unusually isolated. But as Thorin had pointed out to the Mayor on one of his visits, they were all cousins by blood, even if it ran thinner with some. The Mayor, always eager to appear important had passed along a "suggestion" that Kiliardath's widow could be better served and the townsmen, always eager to curry favor, rose to the occasion admirably. And Thorin was insufferably pleased with himself.

Fili was not in a hurry for summer to end either. Even though he was either bargaining with customers or working the forge (of the two he found the customers more exhausting) he found time for a little recreation. It usually involved stealing Kili away from his duties, but no one complained as few customers came when the sun was high and hot anyway. They were both young and needed time off now and again.

The nightly swims had cooled them all and Fili loved the water, but was afraid of it because he couldn't swim. Dwarves were so heavily built with thick bones and thicker muscle that they tended to sink like the stone they were said to be made from. Kili, however, could swim like a fish and dedicated himself to teaching his friend how to at least survive in the water.

When he realized that Kili would have to be close to him and even touch him, Fili had taken a pair of his under-breeches and cut them off. He didn't feel right having dangly bits in a child's face. The wet cloth was uncomfortable until he got used to it but he did wish that the lad wouldn't giggle so when air got under the brown fabric and made it bubble up around him. Kili called him a "Dwarven stew" which irritated him at first and then became an in-joke.

For one so young, Kili had amazing patience with the hesitant Dwarf. Fili refused to admit that the idea of going into water deeper than his waist terrified him and put on a bold front when pushed to go out chest deep. The boy insisted they stay where Fili could easily put his feet down if he became uncomfortable and then they started. Sort of...

The first attempt ended with Fili panicking and living up to the tales about Dwarves. He sank like a rock arse first, went straight to the bottom and forgot for a moment that he could just stand up. When he remembered, he rose like some mythical sea creature, breaking the surface spraying water and roaring, to the vast amusement of the lad.

Embarrassed, Fili did his best to entrust himself to Kili's tutelage and, after only a few more near-drownings, was able to dog paddle enough to keep his head above water. A few more lessons and a little less panic and he was able to actually swim a good distance. The muscles that threatened to sink him also propelled him through the water at a decent speed. He never became comfortable with swimming underwater like Kili, but he was able to dive down and retrieve his hair clip when it loosened and slipped off.

It was a good summer, full of laughter, work and camaraderie. Truth be told, they all felt a little sad when the first frost nipped colors into the leaves. They all turned a nice profit and for the Dwarves, it had been an excellent venture. They would return in four years to do it again.

Four long years.

"I'll be fourteen by the time you get back," Kili said dejectedly. He was desperately trying not to show how much he was going to miss the Dwarves…how much he was going to miss Fili.

Fili tried not to think of the time. It was like leaving a kid brother behind and it bit deeply into his heart.

"You'll be taller than me by then," he replied, trying to find a silver lining. "Smithing will fill your muscles out and you'll be ready for your Ranger training."

"I leave for training in Rivendell when I'm eighteen, but the Rangers here will teach me all they know before that." Kili was trying not to cry. He was a man and a Ranger and they never cried.

When the wagons were packed and the campground nothing but a bare trampled area, Fili stood next to Kili who was holding one last toy for Kathanne that Bifur had pressed into his hand. His eyes were brimming tears that he refused to let fall. Fili's eyes were a little misty as well.

Fili gathered the boy into his arms for one last hug.

Kili had to force himself to let go and step back so that they could leave. He stood there alone watching the wagons slowly head back to the Blue Mountains.

He gave one last wave and whispered:

"I'm going to marry you one day, Fili. I promise I will."