Disclaimer: Sadly I do not own the Hobbit, that honor goes to the wonderful J.R.R Tolkien.

Fire, Steel, and Ale

Sparks flew as the hammer connected with steel, the sharp clang filling the forge with the familiar repetitive beat Simila had taken comfort in as a young dwarfling, and was taking comfort in now. From the moment she had woke that morning to the time she entered the forge there had been a nagging feeling in the back of her mind telling her there was something amiss. That something was about to happen. Simila had felt this feeling before, more times than she would like to admit in the past few weeks, and it had yet to steer her wrong. She had escaped many situations due to its appearance, and was not about to ignore it now, so she did what she always did when it appeared. She hid away in the one place she was certain trouble wouldn't find her. Trouble being two certain heirs of Durin.

A scowl crossed her face as she thought of the two, though it was more out of annoyance than any true dislike. They had been raised together as dwarfing's, their mother taking on the role her own could not, and even then they had enjoyed pulling their pranks on her. It had stopped for a while, but it seems the extended break she received only caused their antics to return with a vengeance. She could barely walk out of her home without something happening, and the days she was left alone her mind constantly questioned what they had planned. She became in tuned after a while in a sense, and mastered the art of avoidance. After all she could only handle so many public serenades and drunken proposals. So Simila developed a routine; she would join her father to break her fast, then escape to the forge to work her day away, returning in time for dinner. It didn't hurt that she was able to craft many weapons and jewels to sale in the market.

Like most of the dwarves of Ered Luin, Simila made a living off the items she forged. It was a skill her father, Dwalin, had demanded she learn, not that she had ever complained. She had dreamed of the moment she could learn the craft as a young dwarfling, watching her father work the forge from a safe distance. In time she began helping her father by handing over the materials he would ask for. He would explain their use and instruct her on how to properly handle them. It wasn't until he was certain she could handle it that he allowed her to fully forge items by herself. As a test he had told her to forge a dagger and bring it to him upon completion, before turning away to sharpen his axe on the grindstone. Never before had she felt so excited about something. She had long desired the chance to prove to her father that she could handle the responsibility then, and relished the opportunity to craft like her father. Simila had worked for hours on that one dagger, aiming for perfection. The end result was not what she had been hoping for, the craftsmanship itself leaving something to be desired, but the blade had been strong, and her father proud and encouraging. Simila kept the dagger at her side at all times. Though it was admittedly not the best thing she had ever crafted, it was the first thing she had ever made, and that alone was enough to make it special. It was the start of something she well and truly enjoyed.

Her love for smithing was only rivaled by her thirst for a good fight, something she was often compared to her father for. Oddly enough, he had been the one to oppose the idea of her learning to fight the most. Having always been his "little girl," that had been an argument he had put the most into. Though it was not rare for a dwarf-woman to learn, they are just as fierce as their male counterparts, it had not been something he had wanted to teach her. Just the thought of his daughter being in any form of danger was enough to set him on edge, but in time Simila had been able to make him see sense. After all, was it not best she be in danger and know how to protect herself, or be in danger and be defenseless? That was an argument he could not help but agree on, so she began to train with Fili once she came of age.

Simila could not help but smile as she began to recall the memories of their training sessions together. He had been hesitant to spar with her at first, having always been taught dwarf-women were to be protected, but that had quickly been erased after she questioned whether or not it was pride or cowardice that caused his indisposition. Her father had laughed, Fili had sputtered over his words, and Simila swore she had even seen a rare smile on Thorin's face. Needless to say he had never shown such unwillingness again, and would often challenge her to a contest of skill whenever they had a chance. Fili had always been more adept when it came to fighting with a variety of weapons, though, and often bested her with a sword. Simila preferred the dual battle axes her father had forged for her, having always been one of her strong suits, and was far more easier for her to handle weight-wise than the swords she had been given to practice with.

Her father had forged them with her in mind; light, but durable. The haft's were as long, if not longer, than her arm, made of dark, polished oak and metal bands she had learned were called langets that protected them from breakage. The blades were steel and curved, with a spiked tip that served for stabbing, and angular groves cut from the middle that made the axes much lighter. Intricate designs were carved into the blades, crisscrossing and twisting into hypnotic, complicated patterns. Simila had fell in love with them at first sight, and had loathed parting with them since the moment she first held them in her hands. They had become an extension of her in a sense. A weapon she was confident with wielding and-

"I figured I would find you here," A gruff voice cut into her thoughts, startling her. "You always come here when you want to hide from Fili and Kili." A grimace crossed Simila's face at their names, and she turned to face the source of the voice. Her father was leaning against the far wall, his arms crossed over his chest, amusement clear in his dark eyes. To anyone else he might appear more opposing, the mirth could easily mistaken as mocking scorn, the smile on his face a sneer. Dwalin was admittedly an intimidating figure, taller than most dwarves, with a strong, sturdy build. The top of his head was bald, and bore tattoos, the bottom a mane of long, black, unbraided hair. He was admittedly not the friendliest of dwarves, nor the most trusting, but he was her father and she cared for him all the more for it.

"They've taken to pulling their tricks on me," She explained, placing the sword she had been working on in water to cool. "Precautions must be taken." A raised brow was the only response she gained, and though she tried to keep a straight face, in the end she ended up letting out a snort of laughter. Even she had to admit there was no amount of precaution that could keep those two away, especially when their determined to do something, and her father never failed to point that out. The truth was the best way to handle those two was to accept that your their newest target, and get even.

"You used to love their antics when you were but a wee lass. You even joined in their jokes and games. They were the only ones that could ever get you to wear a dress." Now he was mocking her for his own amusement, Simila realized. She specifically recalled telling him that was something that should never be brought up again. Simila had always held an unreasonable hatred for dresses, preferring a simple tunic and trousers over the flowing fabric. They slowed her down and were illogical to wear in her line of work.

The scowl that crossed her face in that moment made it clear just who's daughter she was, but instead of intimidating Dwalin like it would have almost anyone else, it only served to make him clutch his stomach in laughter. Yes, my humiliation is very amusing, father, Simila thought, face flushing in embarrassment, but unable to bring herself to be truly angry with him.

"I recall refusing to play with them for weeks after," She commented candidly. "They never asked me to play the fair maiden again, that's for certain. I don't think Gimli ever recovered from taking up the role, though." A snicker escaped her as the image of Gimli in that horrid red dress filled her mind. He had looked so distressed, his brow furrowed and a pout on his mouth, holding up the skirts to keep from tripping on them, flowers braided in his beard; a courtesy of Kili. He had been much younger than them, eager to prove that he was big enough to join in their games. His father Gloin hadn't been to pleased when he happened upon them. Simila recalled he turned the most interesting shade of red, darker than his hair, before pulling his son quickly away. Needless to say they never played 'save the fair maiden' again.

"Wouldn't bring that up in front of Gloin if I were you," Dwalin warned, before getting to the reason he came. He never was the one for idle conversation. "I'm going down to the Drunken Miner, and you're coming with me. You can't hide forever." No, Simila thought. But I certainly can try. By the look that crossed her father's face she knew there was no getting out of going, though. He was more likely to drag her there kicking and screaming before letting her have her way, and she knew he would. Dwalin had done it before, after having her refuse to leave the house for days due to a particularly humiliating serenade from Fili. A serenade that still made her blush when it crossed her mind. Quite the charmer, Fili was. And she thought Kili was the only one for provocative suggestions and inappropriate innuendos. That was the day Fili made it clear he was the master, and Kili the apprentice.

"I have orders I must attend to. I need to-"

"Stop making excuses and get your bloody arse to moving."

He used the tone, and immediately Simila knew not to argue. She was on thin ice, not literally, but the figurative sort that entailed her being thrown over a shoulder and forced to the Drunken Miner in the most humiliating manor. A manor that was sure to invoke a few laughs and no small amount of jokes. She really didn't want a repeat of that. Ever. So instead of stomping her proverbial foot and exclaiming 'but da!' like she did as a dwarfling, she scowled, sat her hammer on the anvil, and stomped away in a very dignified manor. She could practically feel her father roll his eyes as he followed after her.

The cool night air was a sharp contrast from the heat of the forge upon her flushed skin, and Simila found herself wishing that she had thought to bring her cloak before she had left her home that morning. But how was she to know her father would force her to join him? Normally she would head straight home after working so she was never really bothered. Now, though, she couldn't help but feel irritated. Not the rational sort that held reason, but the kind that was entirely irrational and only emphasized by the little things she found to be unreasonably irritating. Like the way the ground crunched beneath her feet, or the way her battle axes hit the sides of her legs with each step she took. Or the way someone was excessively calling out her name and trying to pull her away from her thoughts. Surly they knew how rude they were being? Who in there right mind would dare interrupt ones internal list of annoyances? It only took a glance to realize it was number one on said list.

The Durin heirs.

A scowl crossed Simila's face as she looked into their smiling faces, and briefly she realized she had been doing that far too often that day. She was certain that was not a healthy habit to pick up, and decided it was an art form she would leave to Thorin. Perhaps she should also stop making mental lists as well. She hadn't even realized they had made it to the inn and had taken a seat.

"Simila! Where have you been? We have been looking for you all day!" Kili said once he knew he had her attention, a pout forming on his lips. He really was adorable when he did that. It was something he used against her as a dwarfling when he wanted something, an unimaginable power that none could resist. Except Thorin. He was an impenetrable force, though, so didn't really count. A sigh escaped Simila's lips as she braced herself for a night of the Ili's, as she so fondly labeled them. Ale. She would need lots of ale. Surprisingly as soon as the thought entered her mind a tankard appeared before her, a hand attached to it. A hand that led to an arm, then eventually a face. A face she knew well. She knew Fili had his uses.

"And why is that?" She questioned as she took the tankard and took a few gulps. She was the very depiction of lady-like elegance, then. Especially when the amber liquid rolled down her chin. Dis would be proud of this wonderful expression of the womanly arts.

"Because, our dearest Simila! We thought of a game," Fili picked up where his brother left off, draping an arm around her shoulders. "A game that we wanted to share with you."

"I'm not getting into any games with you two!" Simila exclaimed before Kili could speak, Shrugging the arm off and pointing her finger accusingly at the two. "Last time I played your games I ended up waking up in the dungeons for running through the mountain while declaring my undying love and devotion to your uncle." This did nothing but cause a few snickers from some of the other dwarfs around them, and a scowl from Thorin. Some things just weren't easily forgotten. The two brothers were unperturbed by her declaration. They were determined.

"Simila, we promise we won't allow you to do anything unseemly this time," Kili assured in a way that wasn't at all assuring. The smile the brothers shared didn't help much either. "It's just a game of truth more than anything."

"And it involves ale." Ever the voice of reason, Fili was, making an offer no proper dwarf maiden could refuse. A dwarf after her own heart, that one. Really, she needed to gain a stronger resolve. Or a different addiction. They knew her all too well.

A long suffering sigh escaped her, another habit she would have to vanquish, before giving a curt nod in admission. "How do you play?" She inquired.

"One of us will start by saying 'It's the honest truth' followed by a statement that the others have to guess rather or not it's true or false. If the guess is right on the first try, you have to take a drink of ale and the one who guessed right gets to ask you a question that you have to answer honestly." Seemed simple enough. And harmless. What trouble could she possible get into by playing it? She would have scoffed at the thought if she hadn't done that far too often already. If she was going to play she might as well start it off on the right foot. Besides if she got carried away she was sure her father would put her in her place. He hadn't been there the last time she indulged in drink with the Ili's.

Just to reassure herself that she was in good hands, she glanced across the inn to where her father sat, discussing some matter of importance it seemed with Thorin. There heads were bent close together, making it obvious they did not wish their discussion to be heard. There expressions both tense and contemplative, something that wasn't all together foreign on the two. Her uncle Balin was with them, hands wrapped around his tankard thoughtfully as he listened to whatever Thorin was currently saying. Curiosity flared inside Simila for a moment, but she quickly forced it down. Their matters were their own, and if they wanted it to be shared they would voice it soon enough. Turning her attention back to the two dwarves in front of her, she gave a small smile, and voiced the question that would without a doubt be her undoing for the night.

"Who goes first?"

"Ladies first, of course," Kili replied with a wink, and with that another scoff was denied.

"It's the honest truth that I do not like playing these ridiculous games with you two."

Fili placed his hand over his heart, a wounded look crossing his face as he regarded her with laughing blue eyes. "Simila you wound me!" He exclaimed, Kili nodding his agreement, before continuing. "Now that's a lie if there's ever been one, and make no mistake about it. You love our games, admit it." Simila reluctantly took a drink, allowing herself a scowl. Just this once. Now she owed Fili an honest answer to a question and she could only blame herself. She had said she was going to indulge the game after all. And she did enjoy their games. Just not the trouble that comes after.

Their heads went together as they discussed what to ask her in hushed whispers, their eyes occasionally regarding her thoughtfully. It would have made her nervous if she hadn't known that was their intent. Building up the suspense and everything. It didn't take long for them to come up with a question. Soon after their attention was once more on her, matching grins on their faces. It was a definite cause for worry, and that was just what Simila was beginning to do.

"Where have you been lately?" Fili's eyes narrowed and locked onto her own grey ones with an intensity that momentarily stunned her. It was rare to see the more serious side of Fili. Simila knew he had one, she had seen it on occasion, but when it came out it reminded her much of his uncle.

"The forge," Simila replied after a moment of silence. Fili shouted an 'I told you!' at his brother, and Kili shook his head and mumbled a quiet 'of course' under his breath while handing over his coin purse. Honestly Simila was surprised they hadn't figured it out sooner. It was pretty obvious now that she thought about it. The forge was the only place she really enjoyed being besides the training yard, and considering the fact she hadn't been there with them lately there was really only one other place she would be. Or in the library with Ori, but she wasn't about to tell them that one. The forge was officially compromised.

With a self satisfied smile on his face, Fili picked up the game by saying, "Its the honest truth that besides the fact she dared shave her beautiful beard off-" a glare was sent her way at this"- Simila is the second most beautiful dwarf maiden in all of Ered Luin." He winked her way this time, and collective 'whoo's' filled the inn from those who heard. Simila blushed, suddenly wishing she still had her beard to hide her embarrassing reaction. She would never understand why the two loved doing this to her. It seemed every time she was around them they had to say something like that just to see her reaction. It didn't matter to them how it made her feel so long as it amused them, not that it really bothered her. It was something Simila had learned to accept from the two brothers. She could already tell they were readying themselves for a night of embarrassing declarations such as that, though, and steeled herself for it. She had known this could happen from the moment she accepted the invitation to play. The only thing that was left to do was get even. Placing an innocent smile on her face Simila tilted her head in the direction of a particular dwarf maidens direction; one that was a known Fili admirer with a questionable habit of following him around.

"False!" She declared loud enough to capture the other woman's attention. "Didn't you tell me that was Dulgura?" Simila's worries over getting the name correct was reassured when a squeal reached her ears. Fili was frozen in blatant horror, and Kili was doubled over in laughter. Perhaps the night won't be as horrible as she thought it would. Simila took another drink of her ale, hiding the grin that crossed her face when Fili's eyes focused on her, a challenge clear in their blue depths. What was she to do but oblige?

A/N: Admittedly, I am nervous about posting this. The plot is something I have been thinking over for a while now and have finally decided to write and post it. This will be based off the movies because sadly I do not own the books. Please review and tell me what you think, or if you have any questions or corrections(: This is self edited so please forgive any mistakes.