Hey guys! Here's my new story for y'all! Just to make sure it's clear, because age is something that comes up a lot in Hobbit fics, I go by the Dwarvish aging theory where they age about 2.5 times slower as a kid and it changes a little as they grow up. So in the first part, they're at the human equivalent of about 3 and 4, and in the rest of the story Thorin is about 8, Dwalin is about 9, and Balin is about 12.
Hope you guys like it! Let me know what you think!
Thorin, son of Thrain and Dwalin, son of Fundin, became friends the moment they met. On one of the walks Thrain was fond of taking with his young son tottering along next to him through the quiet inner halls of Erebor, Thorin had tripped and collided with another dwarfling with a head of striking, spiky black hair. That father, a guard named Fundin, apologized profusely for the young dwarf named Dwalin. With a small smile at the boys rolling on the floor together, Thrain dismissed the apology with a clap on Fundin's shoulder. When he looked down, the spiky brown hair of another dwarfling became visible behind Fundin's jacket and chain mail. Thrain leaned around the guard and smiled at the shy little lad and offered his hand to shake.
Fundin peaked over his shoulder and nodded with encouragement toward the personable prince of Erebor.
"Go on, Balin."
With his father's reassurance, Balin tripped around his father, straightened his little overcoat and bowed as low as he could with his arms spread in front of Thrain.
"Very pleased to meet you, Mr. Balin," he lowered his offered hand and bowed very formally in return to the little dwarf. He turned and bowed as well to Fundin who looked shell shocked at this interaction with the prince. Fundin pulled Dwalin away from wrestling with Thorin, dusted him off and made his son bow with him. Thorin giggled, bowed to his new friend and then launched himself at Dwalin to begin their wrestling match anew. Dwalin's slightly older brother, however, took a step back from the wild dwarflings and shook his head. Thrain couldn't help a small chuckle as he watched this little family and how they interacted.
"Dwalin, be respectful! That is the king's grandson!"
"It's quite alright, Fundin. My son is just as hard headed as it seems yours is."
Fundin bowed his head slightly and said, "All the same, we must be getting home. I thank you for indulging my boys." Thrain smiled and reached down to pick Thorin up underneath his arms, settling him on his hip. Dwalin froze next to his father on the floor, shocked by sudden the lacking presence of his new found friend. Thorin squirmed in his father's arms, "Da, can't I play with him longer?"
Dwalin yanked on his father's coat and pleaded, "Please, please, please." Fundin shushed him and herded his boys along, bowing his head one last time before turning away from Thrain.
"Papa," Thorin pulled on Thrain's braids next to his ear to get his full attention, "Will I get to play with D'alin again?"
Thrain tried to push back the rat nest hairdo his son now sported after wrestling on the floor, "I think so, son. If you would like to." Thorin's little face lit up and he wrapped his arms around Thrain's neck in a surprisingly strong hug. He couldn't help but chuckle at his son; the dwarfling was close with his baby brother and sister but he needed someone to rough house with, someone to grow with.
...
Dwalin stood in one of the many doorways to King Thror's treasure room, his eyes fixed on the mountains of gold. He was supposed to meet Thorin here but his friend was late. He tapped his foot on the floor, worrying that perhaps Thorin hadn't been able to sneak away. Just as he turned to go, he heard a few quick footsteps and was hitting the ground, pinned by his friend. Thorin beamed as he sat on Dwalin, "I got you again! You're lucky I'm not an orc!"
Dwalin growled and pushed Thorin off of him and hopped back on his feet. Holding out a hand to Thorin to help him up, he said, "I knew you were there! I just let you think you surprised me."
Thorin punched his friend in the arm, "Liar! Last one to the middle of the treasure room is a stinky goblin!" He ran off before Dwalin could react and laughed as he heard Dwalin grumble and run after him.
Dwalin quickly passed the young prince with his slightly longer legs and they kept running through the treasure room. They hardly stopped for a breath here and there as they wound through the paths created by the piles of gold. Thorin was soon chasing after Dwalin with his arms flapping like wings and growling in as deep a voice as he could muster, making Dwalin laugh so hard he struggled to keep running. He soon reached a doorway on the other side of the treasure room, Thorin just a few steps behind. Dwalin, with his head turned back at Thorin to stick his tongue out at him, didn't notice the presence of a slightly larger dwarfling that appeared with his arms crossed. He crashed into the dwarf and they both hit the ground with an "oof!" Thorin dropped to the floor next to Dwalin and laughed to the point of tears. He turned his head sideways to look at the dwarfling growling beneath Dwalin.
"Hello, Balin!" Thorin called with a large, genuine grin. Balin pushed hair out of his eyes and glared at his little brother still sprawled across his chest before he turned his glare to Thorin.
"You two! I've been looking for you everywhere!" He set Dwalin on the floor, sat up and brushed off both his tunic and Dwalin's. "We're supposed to be practicing our runes today!"
Dwalin and Thorin scoffed at him and jumped up to make a run for it but Balin was quicker than either of them. He reached out and grabbed their collars, an eyebrow raised as he held on to each of them. "You can't get away that easily."
"But, Balin," they both started to whine. Thorin looked up at him and tried to give his best pleading, puppy dog face. Dwalin, on the other hand, resorted to crossing his arms over his little chest and glared up at his big brother.
"We wanna go to the market," Dwalin said with as much authority as he could manage in his small voice. Balin glared back, more than used to dealing with his baby brother's challenges.
For a moment Dwalin began to doubt his ability to convince Balin to let them go, but only for a moment. As an idea formed in his mind, a mischievous grin spread across his face. "If you don't let us go, I'll tell Mum what happened to grandfather's dagger."
Balin gasped and glared down at Dwalin, his grip on his collar tightening, "You wouldn't."
Thorin grinned widely as he watched the exchange between his friends. He looked up at Balin and cleared his throat to get the other dwarf's attention. Thorin knew Balin couldn't resist pleasing his little brother and the young prince with whom they had fallen into a strong friendship.
"Can we go to the market now?"
Balin turned and looked down at Thorin, annoyance written all over him, but couldn't hold out for much longer once they resumed their high pitched pleas. Balin's shoulders dropped a little and his eyes softened. "Fine. But I'm going with you," Balin said as he relaxed his grip on the two dwarflings.
...
Running from booth to booth in the colorful market of Dale, Thorin could feel genuine bliss swell in his little body. He may have been too young to completely understand his role in Erebor or the politics of the world, but he knew he loved his home and the subjects his grandfather ruled. The innocent, carefree feeling they all felt made Thorin feel light on his feet, and the sights and sounds of the market constantly reminded him what an amazing place his home was.
His friends chased after him, weaving between the legs of men, dwarves and the occasional elf. They took turns leading the way through the winding streets of Dale until Dwalin came to a halt. Balin and Thorin crashed into him and scrambled to regain their balance. Dwalin's head was slightly raised, his nose up in the air. Thorin glanced around to find the new draw for Dwalin's attention and grinned when he found it: a little way down the street in which they were standing was a small bakery. He clapped Dwalin on the shoulder and nodded as if to say "Leave it to me." Walking ahead of the two brothers, he tried to look every bit as confident and regal as his father did when he went to the market.
Thorin stepped up to the large dwarf trying to sell loaves of bread and fresh sweet biscuits. He looked down at the three dwarflings and asked, "Where are your parents, little ones?"
Dwalin shied away and hid behind Balin but Thorin was not daunted by the baker that seemed like an overly friendly giant from their low perspective. He bowed as low as he was able, just as Thrain had taught him and grinned up at the baker.
"My father is Thrain-" The baker cut Thorin off with a "My prince" and bowed as low as his stomach would allow. Balin rolled his eyes and fought back a small chuckle. Thorin patted the baker on his large forearm and smiled even wider, hoping to charm his way into a few free treats.
"Good sir," Thorin could hear Dwalin chuckle behind him, "Do you have a few spare sweet biscuits? We've been running all day and we're very hungry."
Balin and Dwalin nodded their heads furiously and Dwalin tried to hide the excitement he felt now that his big brother had joined in the game. The large baker straightened up and stroked his beard, looking down at them skeptically.
"I suppose for the prince's son I could spare a few," he winked down at the three dwarflings. Thorin whipped around to smile at Dwalin and Balin, momentarily forgetting about the baker. Balin reached out and turned him back around to face the baker who was holding out three large, freshly baked biscuits. Dwalin immediately crammed his in his mouth and grinned at the baker while Thorin and Balin bowed to the baker one more time.
"Thanks!" Thorin waved at the friendly dwarf as they turned and ran into the middle of the bustling walkway.
It was summer in Erebor and the heat bounced off the buildings of Dale. By midday the streets swirled before Thorin's eyes as the heat danced off the cobblestones and mixed with the scents of the market. Thorin's clothes started to stick to him as he heated up from running with his friends. They flew down the streets, blazing a trail through the sea of legs until they made their way to the edge of the market. Slowing to a stop in the field between the Lonely Mountain and Dale, they felt the air cool them in the wide open environment.
Balin dropped to the ground and spread out in the grass, breathing slowly and soaking up the sun. His little brother and Thorin took the opportunity to jump on the unsuspecting dwarf and land in a pile on top of his chest. Balin roared and trapped them in his arms, rolling over to squish them beneath him, but Thorin crawled on top of Balin's back and latched on with his little arms and legs. He tried to stand as the two smaller dwarflings grabbed onto his limbs and promptly collapsed on his stomach, letting out an "Oof." Thorin and Dwalin rolled off of him, doubling over in laughter.
The three dwarflings looked up at the Lonely Mountain and watched quietly as they could see caravans of smiths and craftsmen transporting their goods to and from the markets in Dale and inside the mountain. Thorin sat up straight and said, "I've got an idea!"
The brothers sat up and egged Thorin on, begging him to tell. Finally, he stood up before them and announced, "Let's go on an adventure!" His friends cheered and jumped up to join Thorin as he ran back toward Erebor.
"Where we gonna go?" Dwalin asked as he caught up with his friend.
"The mines!"
Balin slowed a little as he processed Thorin's words and quickly tried to recover the distance that had grown between them. He reached out and grabbed Thorin's shoulder to stop him. "We can't go there! It's dangerous!"
"Don't be such a baby," Dwalin said.
His brother glared at him, "But Da said it isn't safe for us-only grownups can go there."
Thorin and Dwalin rolled their eyes at him and resumed their mad dash toward home. Balin whined and groaned but followed them nonetheless-he tried to think of ways he could convince their father to not be angry once they were caught, which he was convinced was inevitable.
...
The three dwarflings crouched together and watched as a miner meandered down the tunnel connected with the one they had explored for a while. They waited until the light cast from the dwarf's lantern diminished and they could no longer hear his heavy footsteps as he walked around a turn. Small torches every few yards lined the walls of the tunnel, casting dancing shadows in the golden light. Balin tried to reach for a torch to take with them but found his arm was just a little too short to grasp the torch and remove it from its mount.
Dwalin stooped down on all fours and flattened his back, making a perfect step up. He said Thorin's name to get his attention and jerked his head toward the torch above him. Thorin hopped up on Dwalin's back, happy to discover that he could grab the torch with the boost. He jumped off Dwalin's back, landing with a sturdy grip on the torch with both hands, despite Balin's protests and warnings to be careful.
"Don't worry so much, big brother," Dwalin stuck out his tongue at Balin and dusted off his knees.
Thorin led the way with the torch and waved it this way and that as he looked for lost gems and gold nuggets he was certain they would find. They walked on until they came to an abrupt end in the tunnel when it turned into a narrow, steep staircase leading into the darkness of the lower levels of the mines. Thorin turned to Balin and Dwalin, pointing the torch down the tunnel, "Let's see what's down there!"
"Nooo," Balin whined. Dwalin tilted his head and teased his big brother, "How can you be a dwarf if you're always afraid to go underground?"
Balin snapped at him, "I'm not afraid!"
"Then let's go," Thorin shrugged and started to descend the steps, trying not to show any uncertainty that they might not follow. Dwalin hopped down the stairs just a couple feet behind Thorin, humming some indiscernible tune. His big brother, however, groaned under his breath but, as always, eventually followed the two more adventurous dwarves.
He loved his little brother and thought of the young prince that had befriended them both so easily like another brother of sorts, but they were going to make his hair turn grey far too early. Balin's mother and father always looked to him to look after their wild, younger son when they weren't there and he had accepted that role with enthusiasm. Sometimes, when Dwalin was particularly difficult though, Balin really came to understand how much work it was to keep up with dwarflings.
"We should go home soon," he suggested as he trailed behind them down the deep, dark tunnel. As they travelled further, the torches slowly dwindled down to just a few with greater distances between them. When the tunnel came to a long stretch, they could three patches of light retreating into the distance with long spans of darkness between them. The two younger dwarves ignored Balin and marched on, trying to spook each other with imitations of orcs and goblins and attempts at retelling scary stories Balin had told them under oath to never mention to their parents. Balin smirked as he heard Dwalin mix up several of his favorite stories and then trail off as he forgot what happened next.
"Oi!" Balin called as he noticed he was falling behind, "It's dinner time. And Thrain will be looking for you by now, Thorin."
Thorin and Dwalin groaned but listened to him nonetheless- food was always a sure fire way to get them to cooperate. They took one last look down the tunnel, holding the torch in front of them and then turned to follow Balin back to the steep stairs.
"We should come here again tomorrow!" Thorin said cheerfully, to which Dwalin agreed excitedly and immediately started chatting with his friend about the adventures they could have in the secret parts of the mines.
...
After a round of goodbyes between the three friends, they went their separate ways: Balin and Dwalin walked shoulder to shoulder toward their home and Thorin raced down the halls until he found the door to his family's dining hall. He smiled up at the guards who returned his with their own slight smiles beneath intricate braids and beards. One of them reached out and pushed one of the giant stone doors open for Thorin and bowed his head slightly as the little prince scurried past him. At the sound of the door, the family at the table looked up and smiled at the little devil that always had them on their toes.
"Good evening, Grandfather!" Thorin beamed at the King under the Mountain and gave him a quick bow. Thror smiled down at his grandson and said, "Good evening, little one."
"I'm not little," Thorin retorted as he hopped into the seat between his mother and father. His mother, bouncing a baby Dís on one knee, tried to hide a smile as Thrain scolded his eldest son with a "Be respectful!." He ignored his father and leaned around him to stick his tongue out at the unruly Frerin beating his plate on the table. Thrain groaned as he tried to reign in his two sons and gave Thror an apologetic look. Thror merely chuckled and watched as his grandsons tried to toss bits of their meal throughout dinner without their parents noticing. Meanwhile, Dís squeaked and squealed as Thrain's wife tickled her in between giving her bites of her own meal.
Thrain's children spent most of the rest of their dinner screeching like goblins and making faces at each other, often receiving encouragement from their grandfather. Thrain and his wife did their best to keep things civil, but soon resigned themselves to laughing at their children and relaxing along with their king.
By the time they finished their meal, both Dís and Frerin had fallen asleep in their mother and father's arms. They bid Thror goodnight and made their way home a little way down the inner halls of the kingdom. Thorin held onto his father's pant leg since Thrain's arms were full with his younger brother, and tried to rub the sleepiness from his eyes. He felt like he was drifting as he walked, each step growing a little heavier, and soon felt his father picking him up and carrying both of his sons. With his head lolling on Thrain's shoulder, Thorin tried his best to stay awake and begin plans for his adventures with Dwalin the next day but he soon drifted, hanging onto one of his father's braids as he had since he was a baby.
...
After eating breakfast as quickly as he could, Thorin kissed his baby sister and brother and yelled goodbye to his parents before they could stop him from running out the door. He raced down the halls of Erebor, weaving between guards, soldiers and miners until he crashed into a guard's legs that he failed to notice. Thorin felt the legs take a step back to adjust for the sudden impact. He landed on his behind in front of the guard and followed the legs up to the face of the large dwarf. A huge smile spread across Thorin's face when he recognized the father of his friends. "Mr. Fundin!"
Fundin returned the smile and offered his hand to the princeling, "Hello there, laddie." He pulled Thorin to his feet and clapped him on his tiny shoulder, "Where you off to this morning?"
"I'm looking for Dwalin," Thorin said as he rolled on his heels impatiently. Fundin chuckled and pointed down the hall behind him. Thorin leaned to the side of the dwarf's legs and caught sight of his friend's spiky hair that was as wild as the dwarfling it was attached to. Thorin smiled at Fundin and ran past him, shouting a thanks and goodbye with a speedy half bow.
"Dwalin!" He called out as he bounded down the hall. Dwalin's head snapped around and he ran to meet Thorin halfway. When they reached each other, they grasped each other's right forearm like Thrain had taught them and clapped their shoulders with their left hand. Without even speaking, just a mutual smile, they knew where they were headed. With a quick wave to Fundin, they turned and raced each other down the halls toward their secret entrance into the mines.
When they made it to the halls that led toward the mines, they heard a familiar voice call their names. Thorin and Dwalin stopped and turned to see Balin racing after them. Turning back around, Dwalin rolled his eyes and grabbed Thorin's arm in hopes of dragging him along in an attempt to avoid his big brother.
"Dwalin, stop!" Balin made his voice as deep as he could and managed to catch up with the two younger dwarves as they faltered in their steps for a moment. Dwalin whirled around and glared at his brother. Balin ignored him and put his hands on his hips and said, "Where do you two think you're going?"
Dwalin groaned and rolled his eyes, "We're just exploring."
"You're going back to the mines, don't try to fool me."
"No we're not! We're just exploring," Thorin chided in innocently.
Balin glared at him, "You know it's not safe. Father says dwaflings aren't allowed."
"Well somebody woke up on the unadventurous side of the bed this morning," Dwalin said to Thorin under his breath, although it was loud enough for his brother to hear. Balin scoffed, his frustration building by the second. He had indulged the two dwarves yesterday, but letting them go back down the mines was asking for trouble. He father always told him the mines were one of the few places they were forbidden to go and he had taken that to heart. If only Thorin and Dwalin would do the same.
"Please, brother," he said as he put a hand on Dwalin's shoulder. Dwalin grumbled under his breath again but nodded in resignation all the same.
"Fine. How about we meet you at the market in an hour instead?"
Thorin's head snapped back and forth between the two brothers, a look of pure indignation spread across his face thanks to Dwalin's words. Balin sighed with relief and patted both the little dwarves' shoulder.
"Ok, see you then," Balin tried to say it with a slight undertone of a threat in the hopes the two rebellious dwarflings wouldn't act on any notions of going behind his back. He took one final look at the two of them and walked away.
Thorin and Dwalin stood there silently, waiting for Balin to turn a corner and lose sight of them. Once the older dwarfling was gone, Thorin turned to Dwalin and hit him in the shoulder.
"What'd you do that for?!"
"Ouch!" Dwalin whined and rubbed his arm, "I didn't mean it! We're still gonna go down there, I just had to get Balin out of our hair."
"Oh," Thorin said with a small blush. Dwalin chuckled and put his arm around his friend's shoulder. They turned and walked down the hallway that would lead them back to the outer tunnels of the mines of Erebor.
...
Deep within the upper tunnels, miners hacked and chipped away at the walls that were constantly widening and burrowing deeper from their persistent work. Each miner talked very little since their picks and hammers would more often then not fill the tunnels with overwhelming noise; they focused on the work their lanterns and torches allowed them to see and saved chatting for after work. That morning, however, one miner yelled so loud he could be heard from one end of their tunnel to the other.
"Run!" he screamed as he tried to push the dwarves around him forward. A few dwarves turned their lanterns toward him and could see a brown cloud quickly catching up with the panicked miner's strides as he kept screaming the one word, "RUN!"
...
"It's too dark, Dwalin." Thorin bumped into his friend again as he tried to watch his footing in the tunnel. Fewer torches were lit today and they struggled to find the staircase into the lower tunnels they had found the day before. Once they found the steps and made it a little further down the tunnel, Thorin stopped at the last lit torch that was just out of reach on the wall.
"Did you hear that," Dwalin whispered as he stared into the darkness of the mine.
"Hear what?"
"It sounded like a monster."
"Don't be silly. Help me reach this." Thorin grabbed Dwalin's shoulder and pulled him toward himself and the torch. Dwalin, remembering the day before, bent down on his hands and knees to create a boost for his friend. He heard a loud crack and rumble and his body tensed.
"Thorin, there it is again!"
Thorin froze as he stood on his friend's back, his arms reaching out for the torch. He looked down the tunnel and nodded in response. Dwalin craned his neck to look up at Thorin.
"What was that?" Dwalin whispered. Thorin shrugged and said, "I don't know."
He grabbed onto the torch's handle and froze again when they both heard muffled shouting from above. They stood there, frozen as the loudest noise they had ever heard spread throughout the tunnel. Thorin looked down at his friend, the look of terror in his own eyes reflected back at him in Dwalin's.
"Dwalin-" Thorin was cut off by a loud crash and an eruption of dirt that filled the air around them. His fingers still had a death grip on the torch but his hands were quickly wrenched away when a part of the ceiling collapsed. Thorin screamed as the rocks hit him, knocking him to the floor and pinning his arm. He felt pain explode in his little body and before he could try to pull himself free, more rocks and dirt fell from the ceiling, extinguishing the torch. Dwalin's voice called out for Thorin in the dark but before Thorin could try to answer, a third wave of debris dropped from the ceiling and then everything went dark and quiet.