Note: Thorin 62 ½ (20) years old; Frerin 57 ½ (18) years old; Dís 38 ½ (12) years old

Hearing a solid thunk, Thorin kept his eyes closed as the sound woke him from his slumber and tried to identify it. When it came again, he fought a smile. He knew what it was.

"That was better, much better!"

"Better than yours!"

"…I wouldn't go that far."

Young laughter filled his ears and it made him smile slightly. "How much longer is Thorin going to sleep? We'll never get anything at this rate!"

"Be patient, Dís. He was up late with Father and Balin reviewing the treaties."

He heard his sister huff. "When I'm queen we won't need treaties," she muttered.

Thorin opened his eyes and shifted against the log he had been sleeping against. "And why is that?" he asked, his voice husky from sleep.

His siblings spun to face him, Frerin apologetically and Dís with fire in her eyes.

"Do you think the whole of Middle Earth will fall at your feet, Sister, and we will have no need for written agreements declaring our friendships with other races?"

She huffed again, tossing her braids over her shoulder. "Why wouldn't they?" she demanded. "I am a daughter of Durin."

Thorin shared a look with his brother and snorted when the other rolled his eyes at their sister's behaviour. She certainly had the personality of a Durin.

"It isn't funny!"

"Dís," Thorin said sharply when she stomped on Frerin's foot. "Leave him alone and control your temper. Otherwise, you'll stay in Erebor next time."

She glared at him but he could see a hint of fear in her eyes. If there was one thing she didn't like, it was to be left out of whatever her brothers were doing. The two decade age gap between them already saw it happen enough that the threat was one of the few that had merit and would actually work with the stubborn princess. "You promised I could come," she grumbled.

"Not if you're going to be a brat about it."

"I'm not a brat!"

Thorin just stared at her as she proved his point and it made her blush.

"Go get your axes, Dís," Frerin said, giving her a small push. "You can show Thorin how much you've improved."

She sniffed to hide the tears that were no doubt in her eyes at the reprimand but walked away with her nose in the air.

"That was poorly done, Thorin," Frerin said quietly as he came closer. "You know how much she idolizes you."

His gaze moved to where Dís was tugging her throwing axes out of a tree. "I know, but if we spoil her too much she'll go rotten."

"That doesn't mean you have to go so hard on her. I don't think you know how much your criticism hurts her."

Thorin looked at his brother again. Frerin's dark eyes were still on their sister, but he knew the younger was focused on him. "Frerin, when was the last time a female was born into the line of Durin?" he asked quietly.

His brother made a low noise and Thorin knew that he saw what the elder was trying to show. He didn't say anything though.

"None of our records have any listing of a female birth and they go back to Durin IV. If there were any born, they weren't recorded and we both know that they would have been. Mother and Father already treat her special, Grandfather dotes on her and our people love her deeply. If she isn't taught humility and restraint, she'll become a monster."

"She's still only a child, Thorin. She has time to learn."

"She's nearly forty. That's more than old enough to know better."

"And all she ever wants is your praise which she never gets," Frerin snapped, moving away.

Thorin watched as he pulled his bow off of his shoulder and nocked an arrow. He knew that Frerin had walked away rather than arguing with his brother. The last time they had had a true argument, Thráin and Thror had been forced to separate them for two days before their tempers had cooled enough for them to talk to one another. Of course, neither had admitted they were in the wrong and only Thror's threat of tossing them both out of the mountain for the city of Dale to watch their squabbles had prevented a second fight.

"Is he mad at me too?"

"He's mad at me, Dís," Thorin corrected absently.

She plunked down beside him, moodily staring at the grass. "I'm sorry I'm a brat," she muttered.

He glanced at her and nearly sighed when he saw how dark her expression was. "I'm about as good at controlling my temper as you are," he said quietly. It wasn't quite an apology but then he was never good at them.

"But you still think I'm a brat."

Her voice was quiet and he nearly missed what she'd said over the sound of Frerin's arrows striking their target. "I think you're my sister."

"And a brat."

He blew out a harsh breath. His mother often told him he would regret something he said without thinking and it would be when he hurt someone he cared about. "Well, you can be," he muttered.

"I don't mean to," she whispered.

Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head. "I know, Dís." Was it really her fault when she had been raised like she was special? Could he fault her when everywhere she turned, someone was treating her like the most delicate blown glass and waiting on her hand and foot?

She buried her face in his tunic, one hand fisting in the material even as trembles shook her small frame. But he didn't hear a single sob leave her so he wasn't sure if she was crying or if she was just keeping the noises silent.

Thorin tried not to sigh. He and Frerin had decided last week to go hunting, to get away from the stress and lives of princes of Erebor. When Dís had found out, she had begged to go along. Frerin had caved immediately, having utterly no resistance to her teary blue-eyed stare. Thorin had said she could come only if she behaved and asked their parents.

A small part of him had hoped they would tell her no. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy being around his sister; it was more he had known that they would butt heads at some point and he hadn't wanted the unwanted headache. But they had agreed that if she could finish all of her lessons plus the ones she would miss if she went then she could go. She had done just that and Thorin had been awakened this morning by his sister leaping onto his back before the sun had even fully risen.

Yes, she was a princess of Erebor and old enough to know better, but Frerin was right. She was still a child and sometimes he forgot that.

He watched Frerin as he jerked his arrows away from the unoffending tree. His brother's temper was slow to rise, except on two counts. The first involved insults to his family and the second when he didn't see eye-to-eye with his brother.

Frerin glanced at him and the anger melted off his face when he saw his siblings. He cocked a brow questioningly, his eyes moving between the pair.

Shaking his head, Thorin let Dís have a little longer to collect herself. His gaze followed Frerin as his brother took out an axe and hacked down a decent sized branch. He trimmed the smaller twigs off of it before cutting it down to half a foot in length.

Thorin wasn't surprised when he sat on Dís' other side. Thráin had warned his sons to keep her safe, but they were wasted words. No matter how angry they got, the siblings always protected one another. Now was no different.

Frerin pulled out a knife and slowly scraped the bark away. He let out a low whistle at the tawny colour he revealed underneath. "Don't see that often," he murmured, studying the odd colour of the wood.

Nodding slightly, the elder prince wondered what his brother had planned for the piece of wood. Frerin was truly skilled at crafts, seeming to shape lumps into fantastic creations with ease. Thorin envied him a bit for that talent. He could carve well enough, but it would take him far longer to reach the same result as his brother.

"What are you going to make?" Dís asked softly. She had barely moved away from Thorin, her fist still clutching at his tunic.

"Not sure. Colour would be wasted on most things I can think of."

"It matches your hair."

Frerin snorted. "I don't think they're quite the same," he argued. "My hair is like the finest spun gold-"

It was Thorin's turn to snort.

"-whereas this is more like the tan hide of a lion," Frerin finished, shooting his brother a look.

"You could be a lion," Dís said firmly. "Your hair always looks messy like a lion's mane when you wake up."

Thorin bit down on his cheek to keep from laughing at the disgruntled look on Frerin's face.

"Fine," he huffed, starting to carve. "I'm a lion. What are you, dear Sister?"

Dís fell silently, obviously thinking about it. "A wolf," she said finally.

Thorin frowned, not sure about the choice his baby sister had made for herself. He hadn't expected it to be some placid, fluffy creature, but a wolf was the last thing he would have thought of.

"Interesting choice," Frerin said quietly. "Most don't consider the wolf to be a noble creature. Why pick it?"

"They're loyal to their pack," she argued, "and fierce to defend their families."

The brothers shared another look and neither needed to speak to know they had had the same thought. It was an unwanted and frightening one, their young sister forced to defend her older brothers. The day would surely come, but neither of them wanted it to.

"And what about our dear brother?" Frerin asked, steering the conversation where he wanted it. "What would he be?"

"A bear," she said without hesitation.

Frerin wasn't as good at hiding his amusement as he burst out laughing. "Because he's grumpy?"

Thorin shoved his brother, glaring when he started laughing again.

"Well, only a little," she muttered.

He wanted to growl, but knew it would simply reinforce her choice.

"But he's also solitary and a savage fighter like bears are."

Tweaking one of her braids, Thorin said, "How would you know? You've never seen me in an honest fight."

Her cheeks tinted and she plucked at his tunic. "I overheard someone talking about it," she mumbled.

"Who?"

"…The maids."

Frerin chuckled. "Maybe Father should get on betrothing you," he said dryly. "Stop all these lasses from gossiping about you when our poor sister has to listen to their whispered words."

"I'm not the only one who has to continue the line, Brother," he warned. "Father won't be looking for a wife for only me."

Frerin made a face but before he could respond Dís said, "No! You're not allowed!"

They both stared at her. "What?"

"I said you aren't allowed."

"And why not, Sister?"

"Because I said so!"

"Dís," Thorin said quietly. "We're of the royal line. We're expected to marry and continue our family."

"I know but you can't get married. I already see so little of you as it is. If you get married, then you'll be with your wives and I'll be forgotten!"

"Dís, listen," Frerin murmured, "just because we get betrothed doesn't mean we'll marry immediately. It'll still be years, decades even, before we do. And by the time we do marry, you'll be betrothed as well and spending time with your intended husband."

Her cheeks puffed up as her brows drew together. It seemed like Dís didn't like the thought of her being married any more than she liked the thought of her brothers being betrothed.

"You could make us uncles," he continued.

"If you get married first, you'll have tots before I do," she pointed out, rolling her eyes.

"But our sons won't be as cute as yours."

She shook her head. "Or they'll be stupid like you."

Thorin chuckled. "Mahal forbid," he muttered. "Frerin is more than enough of an idiot for our family."

Dís giggled while Frerin growled.

Their amusement was short lived as a branch snapped nearby.

Thorin and Frerin sprang to their feet, facing away from one another and keeping Dís between them. His gaze scanned the trees but Thorin didn't see anything that could have made the noise. He didn't relax, however. Something was out there and it was watching the siblings.

"Can you see anything?" Frerin asked quietly.

"N-" Thorin stopped talking as he saw something move in the shadows. His heart sank when he saw it again, this time with enough light to make it out, and he hefted his axe. "Frerin, take Dís and go."

"What is it?" he asked softly, even as Thorin heard him gathering their sister up.

"Lion."

Both of his siblings sucked in sharp breaths. "Thorin, you can't!" Dís whispered.

He would do whatever it took to keep his family safe. Even if it meant facing down the wild cat. "Frerin, go!" he said tensely.

"Frerin-"

"Shh, Dís."

Thorin heard his brother hurry away with Dís, but he kept his gaze on the lion. If it was alone, he stood a chance against it, but he knew these cats were rarely alone. He was silently glad he had worn mithril armour under his tunic, but even that wouldn't save him if it went for his throat or face. All he could do was hope he took it down before it got the chance to get that close.

Studying the lion as it advanced, he wondered if he had the time to unsheathe his sword or if it would just provoke it into attacking. It growled lowly, making sweat run down Thorin's spine. It's body was lean, too lean, meaning it was probably starving and desperate, making it harder to predict.

Bracing himself as it crouched down, he willed himself to be calm. What had Dís called him, a bear? Yes, he would fight like one to keep his family safe.

The lion's roar shook the clearing, but Thorin stood firm. He would not back down. He could-

His heart sank when he heard a second growl come from his side. It wasn't alone.

Letting out a shaky breath, he kept his gaze on the one before him, unwilling to break eye contact when it was nearly ready to pounce. It turned out to be the wrong decision as the other growled deeply and charged him.

Whipping to face it, he raised his axe and grunted as it knocked him over. He managed to wedge the haft between its jaws, but it was pushing against him, fangs too close to his face. The muscles in his shoulders strained as he pushed back, trying to get it away from him.

Its claws scratched furrows into the dirt on either side of him and he saw the other begin to approach. He was trapped, exactly as the pair had probably planned from the beginning. Of all the ways he had thought he would die, at the claws of wild beasts was not one. Sorrow flooded him, not at the thought of his life ending, but of not being able to see his siblings live theirs. He had wanted Dís to make him an uncle when she was older, even if her dwarflings acted like Frerin.

"Thorin!"

His heart leapt into his throat at his brother's scream. What was he doing?! The lion above him roared in pain as a thick arrow drove into its neck. It pulled back from Thorin, but it wasn't far enough for him to get away.

The other lion released a roar of its own and charged, most likely at Frerin.

Thorin heard his brother's bow sing as he loosed arrow after arrow. But he couldn't look away from the one pinning him to see how Frerin fared. Blind rage was in its eyes and it started to press down on him again, its intent clear. "No," he hissed. He was not going to die here!

More roars from the other beast and the sound of a war hammer striking flesh. If Thorin could hold on until Frerin took the other down, his brother could use his arrows to-

The lion suddenly shuddered harshly, pulling away from him almost completely. Thorin didn't waste the chance. Switching the grip on his axe, he sank the blade deep into the chest of the beast.

The sound it made was horrible to hear, but it wasn't completely dead yet.

Thorin let out a cry of his own when its jaws clamped down on his arm, teeth trying to work their way past metal. While it couldn't do that, the mithril rings bit into his flesh, digging deep as they were squeezed.

"No!"

The lion shuddered again before a deep groan left it and it slumped to the ground.

Thorin shoved the animal away from him, quickly removing his axe. He spun to face where Frerin was and grew confused when he saw his brother finishing off the other. If Frerin hadn't helped him…. Glancing at the lion, he felt his panic flare as he saw the handles of two throwing axes in its neck, blades completely hidden from sight for how deep they had sunk. "Dís?!" he shouted, spinning desperately to find his sister.

She was at the edge of the clearing, arms wrapped around herself and expression terrified. "T-Thorin?"

He dropped his axe and bolted to her. Catching her up when her knees gave out, he hugged her tightly to him. "Sweet, Dís, what are you doing here?" he whispered.

"It was going t-to kill you!" she sobbed, clutching at him.

"Shh, shh, I'm alright," he soothed, rubbing her back. "You saved me."

A wail left her and she clung harder to him.

Glancing at Frerin, he saw concern etched on his brother's face. Their sister had never come close to a fight before. To have the first be when her brother had nearly died and where she had killed something? "I've got you, Sister," he murmured. "I've got you."

She was slow to calm, her body shaking harshly. Tears struck his neck as she cried, her breaths coming in great gulps of air that were nearly choked off by her sobs.

Thorin pressed a kiss to her hair and rocked her gently. He wanted to get away from this place, but he wouldn't rush his sister.

"Thorin?" she whispered.

"What is it?"

"You're alright?"

"Aye, Dís, you saved my life."

She sniffed and pulled away enough to look at him. "I did?"

"Yes, brave lass. They were beautiful throws, perfect."

A small smile curled her lips. "Really?"

He kissed her forehead. "Aye, Dís. You did well."

"Here," Frerin said, holding out his carving to her. "In honour of this event."

Thorin saw that he had shaped the wood into a lion's form. It was both eerily ominous and oddly fitting.

She shook her head. "I don't want to see anymore lions!"

"Dís, take it," Thorin said quietly.

"But I keep seeing you-!"

"Shh. Look at it and remember you killed one to save your brother's life." He smiled at her. "It'll be a story to tell to your sons."

She sniffed again and took it from Frerin. "Thank you," she whispered.

He smiled and kissed her cheek. "I have both of your axes. I think it's time to go home."

Thorin agreed. Normally, he'd protest leaving a kill behind, but he wanted Dís inside Erebor as soon as possible. He frowned slightly when he saw his brother pocket something out of the corner of his eyes before understanding came. The carving was only a temporary gift, not that Frerin would ever take it back. Whatever his brother had taken was the true memento, but he would wait to give it to Dís until she was calmer.

"Thorin?" Dís said softly.

"Mm?"

"I know I'm heavy and too big, but could you carry me for a while?"

Thorin smiled. "Aye, Sister. I can carry you." He would carry her the entire way home because one day she would be too old for him to carry and he didn't like the thought of his sister not being little anymore. But for now, she was still small and he was not going to let her go.

A/N: Wow did this story every change as I wrote it. Initially it was supposed to be the three of them talking about what freedom or something like that meant to them and was supposed to be all touching and awesome and set the day before Smaug attacks. But then I reaslied, there's a huge age gap between the brothers and the sister. So Dís wouldn't have had the same opinions on any subject as her brothers would have. Then that became this and I'm actually much more happy with this. I also played with the timeline a bit, thinking more along the lines of movie verse rather than book, since Thorin was fairly young when the mountain was lost. This thought has been rattling around my brain for months now and I'm so glad it's finally on digital paper. And random fact, I debated long and hard about making Frerin blond because he's always had dark hair to me and suddenly…I had a change of heart, for this story at least. But yes, rambling. Hope you enjoyed and thanks as always for reading!