A/N: My first foray into The Hobbit fandom, although I've been a fan of the books since long before the movies. Although, I'll admit, I definitely preferred The Hobbit in movie form than the book. Anyways, after watching the movie twice now, I could no longer resist the evil plot bunnies, who simply went insane with ideas when they seen Fili and Kili. This will probably end up being more a series of drabbles that tag along with the movie than it will an actual story, although I haven't made up my mind yet. If you'd like to see this continued, please review. Reviews are like crack for the plot bunnies. : )

Added note: On the ages of the brothers... I don't know exactly how dwarven age compares to human age, so it's all guesstimation on my part. *shrugs*

The hobbit hole of Bag End was quiet, for the most part. The usual sounds of snoring could be heard from those of the dwarves who were asleep, scattered as they were throughout the house. Every room held at least two sleeping dwarves, excepting the front room.

And even that held two dwarves, although they were far from asleep.

"I told you not to bring him." Thorin Oakenshield's deep voice was low, but filled with barely contained anger. "He's too young."

The blonde dwarf scoffed quietly as he leaned back in his chair. "He's but five years younger than I, Uncle."

"It was not just physical age I spoke of, Fili, and you know it. Your brother has never been further than a league from the Blue Mountains. If he's gone that far. He knows nothing of war, nothing of the world outside of his own home," Thorin said firmly, taking a long puff off his pipe.

"Neither do I, Uncle."

"Aye, but you are my heir, Fili. You'll have to learn, sooner or later what it is to be king."

"And just how do you expect Kili to learn then, Uncle? As you said: he's never been further than the foothills of the mountain, on your insistence," Fili said firmly, leaning forward, forearms resting on his knees. "I know you think him a bit... carefree... at times, but, Uncle... I swear to you, there is no one I would rather have at my side. Not even you."

Thorin sat quietly a moment, before letting his piercing gaze meet his oldest nephew's. "Do you know what a time I had, just convincing your mother to let you come along with me, Fili? She's already lost her father. Her husband. One of her brothers. It's not fair to ask her to give both her sons as well."

Fili returned his gaze, standing, as he said, "He would come whether you wish it or not, Uncle. The only way to have made him stay behind would have been to chain him to his bed, and even then, I doubt it would stop him for long. Would you have him follow behind us, like some stray dog, all on his own? For that is what he will do if you refuse to let him accompany you." The young dwarf prince turned, and took a few steps towards the hallway, before stopping, and giving his uncle a small smile.

"Would you have done any different, Uncle? Would you expect any less?"

Thorin had sat silently for some time, letting his nephew's words roll around in his head as he puffed on his pipe, far too alert for any sort of sleep. As he reached for his small bag of tobacco to refill his pipe, he sighed.

"You might as well come sit with me, laddie. Keep your old Uncle company."

He couldn't help the small smile when he heard Kili's muttered curse, as the sound of footsteps met his ears. A few seconds later, his darker-haired nephew sat himself in the chair his brother had vacated, fingers twitching around his (hopefully empty) stein.

"I specifically told you that you were not to accompany your brother. As a matter of fact, I remember quite clearly telling you to stay home, and look after your mother," The older dwarf said slowly, tapping the few remaining embers from his pipe, before refilling it. "Am I getting... senile... in my old age, or did you deliberately disobey me?"

"You are many things, Uncle, but senile isn't one of them," Kili said, half a smile coming to his face. "But I remembered something a very great dwarf told me when I was still a dwarfling."

"Oh? Did you know? And what, pray tell, did this great dwarf tell you so recently?" Thorin had the briefest hint of satisfaction at the look on Kili's face at mention of his very few years. But it was a fleeting emotion, as the youngest of the House of Durin set his shoulders square, and finally looked his uncle in the eye.

"He told me once that it was better to ask forgiveness for one's transgressions, than it was to ask permission to commit them."

"Mummy says I'm not 'llowed in the forge yet, Uncle."

Thorin chuckled as he took his young nephew's hand, leading him through the winding streets of the city. "Did she now?"

"Uh huh. Said not til I've had my twenty-fifth name day," The dark-haired dwarfling said miserably, the prospect of waiting another five years seeming to be ages away.

Thorin stopped, kneeling down to look the small dwarf in the eyes. "Most times, Kili... You listen to your mother. But as for this... Well. Sometimes, laddie... It's better to ask forgiveness for one's transgressions than it is permission to commit them. Besides. Durin's blood runs through your veins, boy; smithing is in your blood."

Thorin gave his nephew a sharp smile. "Well, at the very least, I'll say you have Durin's long memory, nephew. That was nigh on fifty years ago, if it was a day."

Kili gave him a sheepish smile. "I've used that saying many a time since then, Uncle."

"Much to your mother's misery, no doubt. Your brother tells me it's no use, telling you to return home. Says you'll follow us anyways, no matter what I say."

"And why shouldn't I, Uncle? You said it yourself often enough: Durin's blood runs through my veins, and there's more than smithing in that blood," Kili said determinedly, pushing himself to his feet, and pacing around the room. "My heart aches for want of battle, Uncle. And it nearly breaks at the thought of sitting at home, defending nothing more than a dying hearth, while others fight to reclaim our home! And you've no right to ask that of me! You, who fought and defeated Azog the Defiler while you were barely in your nineties! You who have lead our people since that very day! Please, Uncle," Kili begged, dropping to one knee in front of Thorin, placing his hand on the elder dwarf's. "I beg of you, do not send me back. Give me this chance to prove myself to you. I will not fail you. I swear it."

Thorin sighed. "On your feet, Kili. You've already said you'll do as you wish, and to the Pits of Doom with what what I wish. I suppose there's nothing for it but to let you along. I've always said you've had more heart than brains, boy. Let's hope we all live long enough prove me wrong."

"What'd he say, brother?"

Kili grinned as he entered the small pantry where he and Fili had elected to lay down their bedrolls. "I'm going along."

Fili scoffed as he rolled over on his side, propping his head on one fist as he stared at his brother. "Only because I softened him up for you."

"Oh aye, malleable as butter he was," Kili said, rolling his eyes as he lay down, hands folded behind his head. After a few moments, Fili began to think his brother was asleep, and he'd started to doze off himself.

"Did you mean what you said, Fili?"

With a groan, Fili opened his eyes again. "Did I mean what?"

"That... that you'd rather have me by your side than any one else?"

Fili smiled, reaching across the small space between them, and grasped Kili's hand in his own.

"I'd take you over any army in Middle Earth, little brother. Even if you don't have a beard yet," He added with a chuckle.

"I do so!" Kili retorted, pulling his hand back, and running it over the dark hair under his chin.

"That's not a beard, brother. It's peach fuzz."