Disclaimer: I don't own the Hobbit! :D

A/N: Gaaaah, I dunno whyyy. I need to update Like Everything That's Green, but I just had to write this. Also, there's an OC in here, a little baby sister for Fili and Kili because, who knows, they might've had one. Tolkien didn't include females in the dwarf lineages besides Dis, so I thought it'd be possible and went with it. I just…didn't want to Dis to be all alone one day. :( Now, on that happy note, on to the story! XD

Just For A Moment

Balin harrumphed as he settled into the rocking chair by the fire. It was late for an old fellow to be up and about, but he had been invited to dine with Thorin and his sister's family after the council meeting. That was not an invitation that one passed up willingly. Dis' cooking was renowned; while a bevy of cooks would have been happy to serve the noble family, Dis did much of their cooking herself. Tonight had been a veritable feast of hearty venison stew, potatoes from the valley mashed and drowning in gravy, fresh greens from the gardens among the hills and a flowing tap of ale, all finished with a slice of berry pie for each of them.

The white-haired warrior was stuffed and content, his mug of ale resting on one of the wide wooden arms of the rocking chair as he flexed his ankles, causing the chair to rock steadily. Quiet-at-home evenings like this were rare for both Thorin and himself, and Balin was pleased to take a night away from politics and business in order to enjoy a simple moment by the fire. Also, the sight of Thorin so at ease and relaxed with his family made Balin warmer than the fire did by far.

The leader of the dwarves of the Blue Mountains, often aloof and set apart from others by birth and by choice, was sitting cross-legged on the plush rug in front of the massive fireplace, a toy crown made of tin perched cockeyed on the top of his head. It had been painstakingly fashioned by a pair of clever, energetic little hands and placed there with a tad too much excitement. Kili was rarely patient and never slow, so there had been little chance of that toy crown ever sitting right.

Thorin had grumbled when Kili first announced that wanted to place the little crown on his head, but the boy had been so insistent and hopeful that Thorin must not have had the heart to resist. It was all in those dark, rich-earth-colored eyes when it came to Kili; the boy only had to look at you a certain way, and you would feel like you were committing a crime for not doing what he wanted. Thorin was immune to this technique…most of the time. It seemed that he was vulnerable to Kili's trick tonight, though.

In Thorin's lap was his sister's youngest, the baby girl, Ris. Her silky golden-red hair, a few shades darker than her eldest brother's, was free from the braids that had captured it all day. It made a fluffy halo around a tiny face that was more adorable than any doll that Balin had seen come forth from the halls of long-lost Erebor. Big summer green eyes were fixed with awed attention on the wooden blocks in her chubby infant hands, and she babbled at them in a language more unintelligible and silly than that of the elves, which was impressive.

One of Thorin's massive arms was wrapped loosely around her; every now and then she would lean forward or to the side to offer the blocks to one of her brothers, jabbering tenaciously, but she never fell from Thorin's lap. Every so often, he would reach up and absently smooth down her hair, and she would drop a block to reach for the callused, gentle hand that wielded both hammer and sword expertly.

Balin rocked back in his chair, taking a long pull of ale from his mug. He remembered a dwarf girl like her once, giggling and sweet and warm as a kitten in your arms but with grabby little hands that found his beard awfully appealing as a tug-toy.

"More ale, Balin?" asked the strong, beautiful woman with a ready smile and an open hearth who had once been that babe. "Oh, nevermind, I know better than to ask questions I already know the answers to." He smiled up at her as she took the mug from his hand and poured the amber drink into it. Dis was tall for a woman, with golden hair and eyes the same shade of blue as her brother's, eyes that only Fili had inherited out of the children. She was a true beauty, and any dwarf man would agree with him on that point.

"Thank you, lassie," he said when she handed the mug back to him.

Dis' laugh was deep and inviting, as if she would be even more jolly if you laughed along with her. "Truly, you can't call a woman who's given birth to three babes a lass anymore."

"You'll always be a lass to me." Balin raised his mug to her before leaning back in his chair again. He winked at her. "Just as Thorin shall always be a lad."

That remark caused Thorin to lift his head and look narrowly over at Balin, who merely smirked and chortled into his mug. It was impossible to take the dwarf lord seriously with that ridiculous, child-sized crown on his head.

To Thorin's right, closer to the fire, was Dis' middle child, the wild one, Kili. With dark tangled hair tinged with red, deep brown eyes always light with good humor, and a spirit touched through and through with mischief, Kili was the sticky bun thief, the lecture-skipper, the pea-shooter. Certainly Fili had a wide streak of playfulness as well, but Kili…well, if Balin wasn't sure of the purity of the line of Durin, he would have been convinced that the boy was part imp.

At the moment, the boy had reined in his rampant energy and had settled for playing violently with a set of tiny pewter elves and miniature silver dwarven warrior figurines, making them crash and smash into each other. The little army was doing battle in front of the fire, and it looked like a great victory was in store for the dwarf battalion in their fight against the elves.

However, Balin did not fail to notice that Kili had put Thorin's right leg to use as a cliff for the duo of little dwarvish archers to stand on and battle pewter elves from above. To his credit, Thorin was doing a very good job of keeping that knee still so the archers didn't tumble to their doom, but he did glance at the little pair with exasperation a few times.

"And then," Balin heard Kili say, half talking to everyone else and half mumbling to himself, "And then, the dirty elves, they come up from this way, all sneakery and elf-like—" He gave a handful of elves a shove from behind so they moved across the carpet; a couple tumbled over but Kili didn't seem to mind. "And then, then all the dwarves, they get their axes and they go chopping at the elves…" He paused with a fistful of dwarvish warriors in his hand and glanced up past those unruly bangs at Thorin for confirmation that this was tactically an appropriate move, or so Balin thought even if the boy didn't realize his actions.

The boy's uncle looked away from the game of chess he was playing with Fili while the eldest child stared at the board with a look of consternation. Thorin glanced at the battle scene before the corner of his mouth twitched into an approving smile. He nodded.

Kili grinned and started making battle noises, adding muted cries and taunts as he pitted elves against dwarves. Balin rocked slowly, shaking his head as he smiled. The child knew nothing of war, but his enthusiasm for his people was already evident. He knew Thorin planned to begin training him soon, just as his brother had already started working with a short sword. With their father killed by wargs barely a year past, their training fell solely to Thorin and their mother. Dis was a fine fighter, especially with twinned swords, but in truth it would be Thorin who would take over the majority of preparing the boys for battle.

But perhaps the majority of the fighting was behind them now. It had taken decades, but Thorin had led them here to the Blue Mountains, Ered Luin, and they had carved new halls, built new mines and resurrected the old ruins left by those who once lived here. Their neighbors in these mountains, dwarves of other descent than Durin, did not hate them. These wee ones here, these three had all been born in the safety of the Blue Mountains, though there hadn't been many halls when Fili had been born. Aye, but he had been born in peace, even if he was an exile. The young had never seen Erebor and did not feel the same pain of homesickness that soaked through their elders in these distant Western mountains. Balin could be grateful that they were spared that ache.

"Fili, it's your turn," Thorin said, bringing Balin out of his thoughts.

"I know…" The youngster's hand stalled over a knight, then moved to hover over a remaining pawn. It was clear that he was unsure of what move to make next, but judging by the determined look on his face, he wouldn't ask for help, not yet. At least there was hope that he would actually ask, unlike some members of his family…

Fili was a smart lad and less stubborn than Thorin or his younger brother or his mother. Dis could be an indomitable lady… The boy had inherited a large part of his father's spirit; Dari had been a clever, sincere, thoughtful fellow who adored Dis like she was a goddess, loved his children like they were individual Arkenstones, and had been a great boon to his people. His loss had been felt by all, and it pained Balin to know that Dari's children would never truly know him. But Fili would be a reminder of his father; he looked almost exactly like him except for the blue Durin eyes and that thick golden hair that was so like Dis', though even that was touched with his father's dark autumn red.

"Just move one," Kili suggested most helpfully, "Don't matter which." His grin was wicked. "You're gonna lose anyway."

Fili was quick. He reached over and flicked his younger brother's ear before glaring back at the game board. However, insult had been dealt, and Kili wasn't one to take such a hit to his pride lightly.

Balin rocked steadily as Kili jumped up to his feet and then onto his brother, rolling him across the carpet with a war cry of that was a garbled mix of Khuzdul and the common tongue.

"Kili, you little pebble-licker, leave off!" But Fili was laughing even as he flipped Kili over his shoulder and wrestled him to the floor.

Kili wriggled and kicked. "Goat's breath!"

"Boot-sniffer!"

"Elf-lover!"

"Boys…" Thorin cautioned as they bumped into the table, nearly knocking off a jug of water, but they were too loud to hear him. In Thorin's lap, Ris giggled and clapped the blocks together while Thorin gave a deep sigh and shook his head. But Balin could see the smile catching at the corner of his mouth as Dis headed over to separate the two.

If only Thorin could be satisfied with this, Balin thought to himself, A steady, good life in these mountains.

At least, for a moment, he could pretend this would be enough for Thorin. That he could be happy with the little things, a good meal, a roof over his head and a loving family, and that his perilous, righteous desire for revenge and the reclaiming of Erebor would be eclipsed.

Thorin gave a rough, deep laugh, set the babe on the floor to play with her blocks and went to help Dis with her sons.

Yes, just for a moment.

A/N: I love little bitty dwarf kiddos! :D I'll be writing more these in the future, so I guess I'll need some kind of name for the series….later!