I do not own the Hobbit.


This may not be the best story, but I always had this idea that what you are about to read below (no spoilers ;) would happen. Mind you, the part I am most proud of is Bofur's speech. You will know it when you read it. ;) Enjoy.


The company was caught, again. Not by trolls this time, but by orcs. It was high time they had some luck on this quest, yet with their wizard disappearing again, such things as luck seemed even further from reach than before.

"Thorin Oakenshield," a voice drawled from in front of them, the owner's back turned towards the bulk of the company as the orc faced his biggest prize. The exiled dwarfish king just stared back at the nasty piece of work, grey-blue eyes filled with loathing. A sudden commotion behind the orcish leader caused the being to swing around, snarling.

The captor's eyes scanned the ring in which the rest of the company were being held at spear point. A broad shouldered and heavily bearded ginger dwarf was being pulled away from where he had effectively tried to bash in the head of one of the orcs surrounding him, the short and stocky being almost thrown to the floor as he was shoved unceremoniously next to where a dark brunette and a blue eyed blonde stood expressionlessly. A small smile tweaked the corner of the orcish leader's lips.

Kili swallowed inaudibly as he realised that one of their captor's eyes were fixated upon him. Him and his brother.

"Fili," the young archer murmured softly, too softly for anyone else to hear as he caught the worried look etched onto his uncle's face.

"Don't break eye contact," Fili informed him as he allowed his gaze to remain fixed on the approaching figure, "But try to avoid eye contact if you can." Kili snorted at this, not pleased that his brother's instructions contradicted themselves vastly. Still, he allowed his eyes to remain fixed on the orc who before had been mocking his uncle, the brunette youth doing his uttermost to keep the fear he felt fluttering away in the pit of his stomach from his eyes.

"Bring those two to me," came the much dreaded words, and not a moment later Kili and Fili found themselves being pulled away from the circle of which they had been trapped in and dragged towards where the leader of the orcs who held them stood.

A small pause filled the air as the orc before the two young brothers took in every inch of their face, studying them with cold and beady eyes.

"Your looks are…familiar," the vile creature said in a slow voice, fingers tapping as he watched for their reactions.

"I don't know why," Fili chanced, "For I have certainly never had the pleasure of meeting you before." It was to the blonde's immense displeasure and fear that the orc threw back his head and laughed.

"Oh, that is not why you both look familiar," he said cunningly before turning to face where Thorin stood apart from the rest of the dwarves and the single hobbit, "Do you, by any chance, have sons you were keeping from me?"

"I am unmarried and so do not have sons," Thorin growled back, matching the gaze of his captor with steely eyes.

"Nephews then?" the orc pressed, glancing back to where Fili and Kili were being held in place. Much to his amusement, the blonde had taken a step forward in front of the younger brunette.

"No," Thorin snapped, "And nor do I have any named heir, let alone two, to take my place." The orcish leader regarded him for a moment before smiling viciously again.

"Let's ask them, shall we?" he said, moving so that he was directly in Fili's face. "Are you at all related to Thorin Oakenshield?" he asked harshly.

"No." The answer was simple and quick and did not seem to please the orc.

"What of your brother, for he is your brother I am assuming." Their captor's grin widened as he saw the acknowledgment and fear that appeared in the eyes of the blonde dwarf.

"He, like me, has no relations to Thorin Oakenshield or his line or this company for that matter." Each word hurt the blonde, yet what could he do for Thorin had been the first to deny their kinship to him, leaving them to try and hold the fabricated lie together.

"Are you sure you have no other relations within in this company?" the orc ask in a voice which sent chills down the back of Fili's spine, "For I believe you are lying."

Fili opened his mouth to reply, but his younger brother got there first, heaving a massive sigh as he did so.

"The truth of the matter is that we do have an uncle within this company," he said dejectedly as if every word pained him to admit, "Yet we wish it were not so for he is a poor excuse for a dwarf with hardly any manners and more than overly fond of ale and ruddy songs of a night. He is a drunkard, that much can be said, but we do hope that he will eventually come to his senses."

"And who is this uncle of yours?" the orc said suspiciously. Kili turned around to face the company and nodded to where one of the dwarves stood.

"His name is Dwalin," Kili said maintaining the same straight face he had worn the entire time, "And he can be a bit slow on the uptake but he is one you do not want to enrage."

"Is this true?" the orcish leader asked, turning himself in order to question Dwalin. The bald headed dwarf kept his face smooth of any emotion.

"Aye, they are my nephews," he said, speaking a degree slower and hoarser than he normally would. He was not happy in the way of which the youngest of the heirs of Durin had described him, but there was nothing the seasoned warrior could do about it as of that moment.

"And you are the drunkard they say you are?"

Dwalin had no choice but to agree, for if one aspect of the story was proven to be false than the rest would come tumbling down and all three of whom he had sworn to protect would become worse for wear.

"Aye," he managed to grind out, trying his best to keep from shooting a black look towards the company archer. If the bald headed dwarf could have sworn to anything at that moment, it was that Kili had purposely put him in this position just for the fun of it.

"And why should we believe you?" the orc sneered back, unable to keep an arrogant smirk from appearing upon his hideous face. Dwalin's mind drew a blank, the burly warrior never been good with weaving words into falsities. Bofur, however, was more than equipped for the task and as the toymaker stepped forward, Dwalin allowed a brief flash of relief to fly across his face.

"Oh they're definitely the sons of his sister who married a distant cousin of this one dwarf with an eye patch and a gnarly leg who turned out to be the friend of this innkeeper who liked this dwarfish maiden who was being courted by this one dwarf who's sister fell pregnant three times in the same year, twice with twins, whose husband was a blacksmith by trade and had this one apprentice who could shoe a horse blindfolded and did so to win a bet placed on him by another innkeeper - not the one from before mind you - who had heard from HIS friend that a hunter had managed to bag a stag of considerable size using only his bare hands after which the village healer had to tend to the hunter's brother who had an eye gorged out by one of the prongs on the stag's antlers - each one was about as long as my arms are now, impressive right? - so the hunter's brother was being tended to by the village healer who, as it happened, turned out to be the long lost husband of this one dwarfish woman who was secretly seeing a blonde haired vagabond who had stayed for several months - all coincidental gossip you must understand - who turned out to be the cousin of this one dwarf who had an immensely bad habit of smoking whilst dining with his family leading to an argument between him and his eldest son which was heard by a beggar not three doors down from them who relayed the information to a third innkeeper which indecently turned out to be my brother."

Bofur smiled at the orcs in a way that could almost be described as sweetly. The orcs just stared at him before the obvious leader among them snarled in distaste.

"How do we know you aren't lying?" the orc asked in a vicious tone. The toymaker before him did not flinch in the slightest, rather donning an offended look on his face.

"You think a liar could come up with that little beauty?" he asked incredulously, "I pride myself on gathering such information to pass off unto strangers such as you and for my masterpiece of woven words and ideal gossip to be compared to a lowly liar who could not even come up with such a speech in one week let alone on the spot trying to save his measly head and those of his friends from being lopped off by orcs is an insult you can be sure I will bare most hurtfully to my grave."

Silence filled the air as the head orc and Bofur stood at a stalemate, each willing for the other to break. In the end it was the orc who folded.

"Very well," their captor growled, "Put the two with the rest. It is clear they hold no significance to us."

Fili and Kili were hauled over to where the rest of the company were still standing, their real uncle excluded. They could only watch as the orc which had been hassling them for answers before stalked towards Thorin who stood tall and proud even in the crippling manner of which he was being kept in place by the orc behind him.

"I think it is about time we finished what we came to do," the leader of the orc pack said, drawing his sword from where it hung across his back, "I will deal with the king. The rest you may decide how to dispose of to your pleasure."

The orcs around them shifted and a gap appeared between the orcs that had initially been separating the dwarves from their weapons as the foul group of beings began to talk amongst themselves of how best to kill their captives slowly and painfully so as the gage more enjoyment from the whole process. It was a mistake on their part and one that played right into the company's hands.

With the opportunity presenting itself and another highly unlikely to come along any time soon, the company sprang into action, Dwalin's roar heard above the battle cries of the others as hey leapt for swords and knives and axes, the strongest of the company using their brute strength to clear the way for their companions. The orcs found themselves with a full scale riot on their hands, the dwarves and one hobbit they had held captive unmerciful in delivering death to those who had orders to kill them all.

Cleaving through the mass of bodies trying vainly to supress him and his anger, Dwalin managed to make his way to his leader who was doing a fine job in trying to keep his head and body intact.

"You could have been quicker," Thorin grunted as he accepted the sword Dwalin handed him with relish, not caring for the heads of two orcs which were in danger of being trampled underfoot.

"Maybe if a certain few were not so caught up in determining who was who's uncle I would have been quicker," Dwalin quipped back.

"So long as they are safe, that is all that matters," Thorin replied, slicing away at the few orcs who still opposed him.

"When I get my hands on that little runt…" Dwalin muttered to himself, braining the last of the orcs as he did so, "Drunkard indeed."

"At least they didn't make you their drunkard father," Thorin told him blandly.

"Thank Aluë for small mercies," Dwalin grunted as he searched for any sign of life besides those the members of the company exhibited.

"I must say, Bofur," Gloin's voice called from across the clearing, "That speech you gave was quite something."

"Aye," Kili agreed, "And your attention to detail is to be admired as well. Where did you get the idea for a dwarf with an eye patch and a gnarled leg?"

"A bad tempered dwarf who had a bit too much ale to drink in a tavern somewhere near my shop," the toymaker replied cheerfully, relishing in old memories, "That was quick thinking on your own feet there."

"It was nothing," Kili brushed off, his cheeks tinging a slight red at the attention. Fili clapped his brother on the shoulder.

"It took guts to lie to an orc directly to its face like that," the blonde praised his brother, "Dwalin will kill you for it though."

"He would never kill his own nephew," Bofur said assuredly as he kicked the foot of an orc below him to ensure that it was dead.

"His own nephew would never claim he was a drunkard," Dwalin shot back as he moved with Thorin towards the main area of which the company was standing.

"You do like your ale though, uncle," Kili inputted, smiling ever so charmingly at the larger dwarf across from him.

"Not as much as Bofur and even he is not a drunkard," Dwalin shot back.

"Yet who knows what you do in your spare time."

"Certainly not put up with you, that is for sure," came the growled response.

"Are you not glad to have two nephews like Fili and I?" Kili asked in an innocent voice.

"I am not your uncle," Dwalin replied bluntly, getting the distinct feeling that he could not win a game of words with the younger dwarf.

"I would be careful what you say or you may make it sound as if you do not care for us at all," Kili said casually. Dwalin turned to his old friend in despair.

"Thorin, help me out here," he begged, clearly at odds with what to do. The company leader only grinned and shook his head.

"Oh no, Dwalin," he replied, much to the seasoned warrior's horror, "They are your nephews."

"But…but," Dwalin spluttered indignantly. Fili and Kili however beat him to the punch line.

"Oh, come on," Fili said as he clapped the taller dwarf on the shoulder, "It's not so bad."

"Yeah," Kili agreed, "It means we have an excuse to pull your leg now, after all, what is family for?"


Did I make anyone laugh?