Kili was almost asleep. They had stopped overnight in a place called Bree and were staying at the Prancing Pony (apparently, Uncle had stayed there too!) and now he felt exhausted. He had been on a pony the best part of a week and his muscles were screaming at him despite the hot bath he'd had a few hours earlier. Mahal he was tired. Fili's arm tightened around his shoulders as he slumped forward.

"You'd best be off, brother." Fili told him.

"'m alright, Fee."

"We'll all be going soon." Thorin said, pulling his arm. "Go on, Fili will be up soon."

Tonight they were all sharing rooms. Families joining each other, though he worried that their burglar would be lonely. Dori seemed to share that worry and was arguing with Gandalf about it. Obeying his uncle, he rose only to almost knock over a dark-haired Halfling.

"I'm sorry!" Kili pulled the Hobbit (lass? Lad? It was hard to tell with such curly hair).

Small brown eyes narrowed indignantly. Oh, dear. "I should think so too! Dear Yavanna, what are you?"

"I'm a Dwarf." Kili answered.

"Really," the little thing sneered, "for you look like a mutated Elf and not a pretty one either. I thought Dwarves were supposed to bearded."

There was sudden quiet and then Dwalin rose. "You..."

"Otho!" Bilbo had seen Kili knock into him and he thought his cousin was lucky to still be alive given what he'd just said. "How could you say that to him?! Apologize."

Dwalin muttered that Otho could do a lot more than apologize, but sat back down. Otho crossed his arms and Dwalin got back up again. "We don't accept Dwarrows around these parts. Why do you defend them so?"

"I'm travelling with them." Bilbo said.

Otho snorted. "Tooks. Your mother was a strange one too."

Bilbo narrowed his eyes. "At least mine didn't open her legs to half the Shire."

Ori squeaked at this. Both Halflings looked appalled, Otho, undoubtedly, thinking that he'd never heard anything so outrageous and Bilbo, undoubtedly, thinking that his chances of remaining respectable were fast disappearing. Kili nudged into Bilbo, trying to get him away from the evidently fuming cousin of his and Gandalf buried his face in his mug, though noises suspiciously giggle-sounding escaped. As they rounded a corner, they heard Dori say, "Well, really!"

"There's no shame in having little beard, Kili."

"I know you're trying to help, but there is shame in it. A Dwarf isn't a Dwarf when he or she has no beard."

"You do have one," Bilbo said. "It's quite short, but it is there."

"This is stubble. This is what children have."

"It's still there."

"Thank you. I know you like your respectability."

"He had no right to talk to you like that. I apologise for him, Kili."

"I don't mind the Elves in truth. I just.." Kili gestured to his face.

"If you had a long beard, wouldn't it interfere with your bow?"

"It would." Kili agreed. "But I'd give anything for a long, full beard."

"I know the feeling."

"Halflings don't have beards."

"No, but we grow hair on our feet."

Kili looked down at the soft carpet of hair on Bilbo's feet. His eyebrows climbed. "Wow. How long have you had it?"

"Since I was 36."

"How old do you Hobbits usually start growing it?" Kili didn't think it was that bad. A decent age to grow hair, actually.

"Since birth."

"What?" Kili gaped in amazement.

"Well, we're born with fine fluff coating our feet and then it continues to grow.."

"No, no, I mean..You didn't have any hair on them? At all?"

"I had softer, downy hair. It was awful."

"So, you had stubble. Well, sort of."

"Yes."

Kili was quiet for a moment. He couldn't quite believe he'd discovered their burglar actually had had the same sort of experience. "You do understand." he said finally.

"I do. There really is no shame in it. It will grow."

"Thanks." Kili put a hand on Bilbo's shoulder, smiling. He felt better now than he ever had. It would grow.

Kili was in shock. Kili couldn't believe what he'd just seen. The horror... Their brave, strong little burglar...was grieving for someone or something with a deep, deep sense of loss. Kili hadn't meant to intrude. Luckily Bilbo hadn't spotted him, but he'd seen... Bilbo was... shaving. Taking a razor and slicing the little, soft hairs that were growing from his cheeks. No wonder he bore the face of a babe, with smooth cheeks and a hairless jawline. Poor little thing was obviously devastated by whatever had happened.

"Kili?" Fili's hand waved in front of him. "What's the matter?"

"Something happened to our burglar."

"What? Tell me!"

"He's shaving."

"As in... but what? He knows he can tell us all about anything! Why didn't he tell us he was grieving?"

"I don't know." Kili said. "But it's all gone. You must talk to him, please, Fili.."

Fili, son of Fiach, heir to the throne of Durin was almost shaking as he walked over to the Hobbit who was placing something shiny and metallic (probably the razor) into his pack. Now, he watched as the Halfling brought out a pair of scissors and gazing intently into the smooth water of the pool they'd found, raised the twin blades to coppery, soft locks...

"NO!"

Bilbo jerked back and looked startled as the eldest nephew of Thorin Oakenshield came barrelling towards him, a large hand outstretched. "Fili, what is it?"

"Give. Me. Those. Scissors. Now."

Bewildered, Bilbo did so. "What's wrong?" he tried again.

"You," Fili wagged the handles of the scissors at him, "can't cut your hair. I forbid it."

"Fili, you can't forbid me from having a haircut!"

"What was it you did that deserves such dishonour?" Fili asked. "It must be recent, otherwise you would have cut your hair sooner.."

"Fili, I often cut my hair-"

"You do what?!"

"Kili, thank goodness. What is your brother..?"

Kili's response was to barge into him, nearly knocking the Hobbit into the water. "Why are you doing this to yourself, Bilbo?!" he wailed.

"But-"

"What happened?" Fili asked urgently. "Tell us right now!"

"Nothing happened...for pity's sake, Kili, don't look like that!"

"But you're ridding yourself of your hair." Kili said. "And that is awful."

"Nothing happened? So, why do you insist on cutting your hair?" Fili wanted to know.

"Your lovely, beautiful locks." Kili said, touching one as if to reiterate his point.

"We all cut our hair. Though, most don't have to." Bilbo said.

"But why?" both princes asked.

"Because..well.. It's nice."

"So are beards and long hair!"

"No more hair-cutting." Fili said, using his 'You-Will-Do-As-I-Say-Or-So-Help-Me-Mahal-I-Will-Skin-You' voice that he usually used on Kili.

"But-" Bilbo began, but at Kili's annoyingly sad puppy eyes and Fili's raised eyebrow, he sighed. "Fine. No more hair-cutting."

He could steal his scissors back anyway.