This is a very, very short ficlet that I first published on Tumblr only, but I quite like it, so here you go.
Enjoy!
"Let's make a bet! I bet- I bet that we can take Dwalin on in arm wrestling!"
This was how it all started, as Kíli stood on Bilbo's dining room table in Bag End, a pint in his hand, pointing at himself and his brother, shouting victory before the battle had even started. He had the remaining dwarves smirking, Dwalin amongst them who grimly smiled behind his thick, dark beard.
"Ye think?", he growled. "Come down here then, I'll kick yer royal buttocks!"
They quickly cleared the table, each of them getting comfortable since none would want to miss that good beating the youngsters would get for sure. Fíli felt pretty much pulled into something that would turn out bad but as usual he couldn't let his brother down.
"Piece of cake, right?", he asked, turning to Kíli who plainly nodded.
"Sure, sure!"
Dwalin settled down, taking off his hand gear and as he propped his elbow on the table, baring his muscular forearms and large hand, Kíli suddenly grew very quiet.
"Erm, you do it!", he exclaimed, pushing his brother to the other chair.
"Me?!", Fíli stared at his opponent in shock. "But you were the one boasting!"
"Well, yeah but you're the older one! The honour is all yours!"
"But I don't think I want it!"
By now the whole company was already howling with laughter and Dwalin raised his eyebrows.
"Ye in or what?"
Swallowing hard, Fíli took his coat off and sat down opposite the old warrior, shooting his brother a last pissed glance.
"You can do it!", Kíli reassured, patting his brother on the shoulder.
Fíli breathed in deeply as he propped his elbow on the table, firmly gripping Dwalin's remarkably larger, tattooed hand. He knew that he had had plenty to drink but somehow it didn't seem nearly enough right now.
"Ready?", Bofur asked, receiving a solid nod from Dwalin and a rather crooked smile from Fíli. "One… two… go!" Bofur slammed his hand on the table and immediately Fíli began to push against Dwalins hand.
He gritted his teeth, pushing until his cheeks were red and sweat was running down his temples but nothing happened. Dwalin's arm did not move an inch and the large dwarf didn't even seem to struggle much. Desperate, Fíli clutched Dwalin's fingers with his other hand, now using both hands to bring his arm down and for the first time Dwalin had to put a little effort into this.
While the rest of the company was howling and cheering them on, bets going round and most of them were betting on Dwalin of course, Kíli grew more and more nervous. He couldn't let his brother go down in shame, losing his dignity on the way. He scurried around them like a hyperactive little ferret and tried to motivate his brother but to no avail. No matter how hard Fíli pushed and pulled, Dwalin's arm didn't move an inch.
Just as Dwalin was about to open his mouth and call it a night, since Fíli pretty much looked like he was going to pass out any minute, Kíli emptied his entire pint on the old warriors head, distracting him well enough. As Dwalin puffed and blew, blinking ale from his eyes, Fíli took the chance and forcefully yanked his arm down and slammed it onto the table.
He rose from his chair, thrusting his fists in the air and nearly toppled over as his brother tackled him cheerfully.
"Yes! That'll show you, old man!", Kíli shouted, laughing along with the rest of the company, some of them even crying and howling.
"You cheating little shits!", Dwalin thundered, cleaning the ale off his face with Bilbos beloved crochet. He got up, digging one hand into Fíli's blond hair and one into Kíli's dark hair and smashed their skulls together. Both sunk to the ground, still laughing but holding their heads and when Dwalin saw them down there, rubbing their bruises and laughing until their bellies hurt, he grinned.
By the door stood Gandalf and Thorin, watching the hassle and Thorin sighed deeply.
"Are you sure those two rascals are related to you?", Gandalf smirked.
"I'm in denial", Thorin muttered.