"Children learn to smile from their parents."

(Shinichi Suzuki)

There was something amiss with Kili.

Of course it was; if anything was amiss with Balin's students, it was usually about Kili, or his brother, or both (though Thorin suspected that most of the time it was rather Fili taking the blame for something his baby brother had come up with; it was hard to tell, with the two of them being as close as they were). Today, Kili had not appeared in class again; it had caused Balin to seek out Thorin's study, seeing as it wasn't the first time to happen. "It's not that he tends to skip his lessons" the old dwarf said, a smile wrinkling the corners of his eyes as well as beneath his beard, "He wouldn't be the first dwarfling to prefer to spend his time hunting or working instead of sitting over dusty books and old maps. It's rather his progress as a whole that's worrying me." That was no news either. Kili wasn't as good as a swordsman as his brother was – only last week Fili'd started to include a second weapon in his training, which in itself was remarkable for a dwarfling of thirty years – but that could have been due to his age. He was restless, though; they all knew it was difficult for the lad to stay in the same place for longer than fifteen minutes (usually much less), or even to sit still for a moment, bursting with energy as he was. It wasn't as if Kili hadn't been interested in his studies either; the boy loved stories, maybe even more than his brother, and he loved to learn, to explore and to discover all he could by himself, but the theoretical aspects of many things tended to slip his attention. He had a quick mind, the little one, but unfortunately his temper was even quicker, most of the time.

"I'll speak to him." Thorin's voice was still calm; in fact, Balin reporting back to him about the boys' progress – and Kili's lack of attention – happened in about the same words almost every day.

Balin hesitated. "I'm not so sure speaking will help" he then replied a little slower, "He's behind – far behind, which is unusual even at his age – when it comes to reading and, even more, writing as a whole. He tends to write letters backwards or to mix them up altogether, he has trouble remembering directions or telling his right and left hand apart…" White eyebrows moved like furry caterpillars as Balin frowned only so much. "I believe he might be lefthanded."

Thorin's lips tightened only so much. "Do you, then?"

"He wouldn't be the first in his family, would he?" Balin replied, eyebrows rising just a bit, "The question is, how to deal with it. I can teach him to use his right, and Dwalin will do the same. But…"

"No." The answer came a little faster than Thorin himself would have thought; still, he shook his head, "I'll speak to him. Take care of Fili and the others, I'll send him later."

Balin gave a nod. "Of course." He gave a brief smile. "It's not mine to say, but maybe it'd be wise not to be too harsh on the lad. He's young, and there's a fire in his blood that to extinguish would be a shame."

His charcoals were almost gone. Kili frowned, nose wrinkling in displeasure at this. His sketch was only half finished, and he'd have to leave his hideout to get new ones; not to mention the fact that for this, he'd have to give up the sight he had from one of the highest outlooks of his uncle's halls. Fili loved climbing, but Kili loved high places, from which you could see until every edge of the world, across the vast forests that surrounded their home, and on clear days even all the way to the Lonely Mountain (or at least that was what they liked to imagine).

The current drawing, scribbled onto a piece of parchment on the ground, showed the slopes further up the mountains, though. Covered with grass and the occasional pine tree, he knew there was a stream that led up to a small lake; geese lived there, and sometimes, Thorin would take him and Fili there to hunt. On his drawing, a small herd of mountain goats had occupied the grass, elders and babies alike, with long, fuzzy fur like he'd seen at the few goats they owned. Dwarves did not breed animals, and as such, all of them had been caught in the wilderness, and then tamed and trained to carry wares as well as their owners in battle. Dwalin and Thorin had even allowed him and Fili to ride them once or twice, for training, but for now, they still mostly stuck to ponies. There were more ponies than goats anyway – not that it would've mattered. Kili liked them all the same. Animals were cute and fuzzy (some more than others), and it was always fun to play with the few baby goats they had.

There was no help for it; he would have to go try and find some new charcoals. Kili sighed, rising to his feet and turning around, only to find himself face to face with his uncle. His heart skipped a beat, and he immediately made a step backwards again; Thorin's hand shot up to grab his forearm to keep him from stumbling too close to the edge. There was no anger in his uncle's face, though, Kili noticed with mild confusion as the elder dwarf let go of him, moving to sit on the ground, back leaned against one of the stone pillars that held the roof.

"Sit down." Thorin's voice was calm, but let no room for arguments. Head hanging with the full knowledge of his guilt, Kili gave a light sigh, but obeyed, sitting next to his uncle and making a feeble attempt to hide his sketchings. Too slow, though; Thorin had already moved to reach out for one of them, taking a closer look. There was silence between them, with no noise but the wind, and the occasional sound of a bird flying by.

"These are well done", Thorin said after a moment, breaking the muteness between them. Kili dared a brief glance back at him, fighting down the surprise.

"Y'think so?" he muttered, quickly focusing back on the ground again, knees drawn up to his chest. He did not have to look up to see the small – rare – smile on his uncle's face.

"I'm not here to punish you, nidoyith*. Though" and he rose a finger at that, "you will not run from your studies again."

Kili grimaced briefly. His uncle's voice once more did not allow for any objections, but still… "They're boring" he muttered defiantly, careful not to look up, "It's all just family trees and dusty books and…"

"And you don't like books overmuch." Thorin's eyebrows rose only so much.

Kili's lips tightened, and he quickly turned his head away. "No." He didn't like books. Fili did, he knew as much. Fili knew everything. Fili could do everything, Fili never did anything wrong. But of course, Fili was the heir, and so that was how it had to be. Thorin never did anything wrong either, after all.

Thorin watched him quietly again for another moment. "Balin told me you might prefer your left hand" he said then, his voice still calm.

Kili's head shot up. "He's lyin'! He can't know, I'm always usin' the right, like he said!" he replied hastily – maybe a little too hastily – briefly rubbing his eyes with his sleeve, stained with charcoal as it was. "I mean – I mean, I – I don't. Oin said, 'twas bad luck, 'cause our maker used his righ', and so…"

"Kili." Thorin's voice cut through the air, maybe a little sharper than intended; the dwarfling flinched uneasily, glancing back up.

"Yes, uncle?"

Thorin gave a light sigh, rather similar to Kili's beforehand. "It's not bad luck" he said, his voice firm and strong as he reached out for one of the small pieces of charcoal, tossing it from one hand to the other as if pondering about something, before shrugging and reaching for the drawing. "May I?"

"Uh, sure" Kili muttered, casting a suspicious glance at his uncle. Truth be told, he had never seen Thorin draw anything before. It didn't look like much, either. "Is that a tree, uncle?"

Thorin narrowed his eyes at him. "Not any of us can be a master artist, rascal" he muttered under his breath, "It'd look worse if I did it with m'right, though."

Kili glanced down at Thorin's hands, understanding slowly dawning within him. "Oh."

Thorin handed the parchment back to him, briefly glancing down onto the small piece of charcoal. "You'll need new ones" he decided then, rising to his feet, "Let's get you some. And then let's go find your mother, because dinner must be ready soon."

Kili nodded quietly, collecting his works before rising to his feet as well. Thorin frowned, however, when his eyes fell upon the last one. "What's that?"

Kili cleared his throat, hastily folding them up. "Uh – nothing?" he said, rather carefully, though Thorin's sceptical glance quickly swept away what little resistance he'd put up. Dutifully, he handed over the parchment. "Nothin', like I said" he muttered.

It was not the goat picture, but another one, the one that had used up most of his charcoal. It showed trees – huge trees, standing close enough to not let any light through, with black leaves and webs spun between them; webs of a size that none of the small, barely palm sized spiders of the Blue Mountains could have woven them, but instead their much larger sisters from the dark forest, visible only through dim eyes glowering out of the shadows, lurking and hiding – hiding from the others, the tall, slim people that stood between the trees, equipped with bows and knives ready to strike, hair flowing in the what little wind went through the branches. Thorin stared at the picture for a brief moment before turning back at Kili quick enough to make the boy flinch again. "Why'd you draw this?"

Kili stared up at him in utter confusion. "I – I dunno? It just – I mean – I had a – a bad dream last night – and I thought – I'm sorry…?"

Thorin's eyebrows twitched only so lightly. "A dream?" he said, exhaling slowly enough so that Kili could almost see the gears working behind his forehead. "You dreamed this, you mean."

Kili nodded almost shyly. "I'll try not to dream of it anymore?" he answered rather carefully, tilting his head only so much.

Thorin shot him another look, one whose meaning was hard to judge. "Dreams aren't a problem, Kili" he said then, softly, "I'll keep that, if you don't mind. Tell me if you have more of these bad dreams, yes?" Giving the boy a gentle pat on the back, he followed him back to the spiral staircase that led them down into the mountain again.

Bad dreams.

Kili's words still spun through Thorin's head, long after the day had turned into night.

Bad dreams.

It made sleeping difficult, too.

Bad dreams.

Kili had never seen elves before, he knew as much (and would take care to have it stay that way for as long as possible). The boy had also never heard of the spiders that roamed the depths of Mirkwood; he was careful to choose which stories they were told, to not cause them any further nightmares.

Bad dreams…

"Brother?"

It was Dís' voice that snapped him out of his thoughts, staring blankly into the fireplace, turning his pipe over in his hands without lighting it in the first place. She wore her night gown already, white fabric and only the dark blue cloak over her shoulders for warmth as she came closer on bare feet. With her features lighted up by the fire, it made her skin seem made of gold and bronze, her hair, so much like his own and Kili's, black as midnight, neatly braided and clasped with silver. She sat down in the other armchair by the fire, briefly glancing over him from head to toe, blue eyes darkening a little.

"Well?"

There were no further words necessary. If anyone had ever been able to take Frerin's place – nobody had ever been able to take Frerin's place, but Dís had learned through practice what their long lost brother had been able to do through the mental connection he and Thorin had shared. (Besides, or so Thorin had to admit at least, it likely wasn't that difficult to see that something troubled him.)

"I believe our Maker has bestowed a gift upon your son" Thorin replied calmly, "On Kili, I mean. He made this."

He handed over the sketching he'd collected from the boy this afternoon; Dís' eyes wandered over it, elegant brows creasing in a small frown.

"He said, he had a dream that showed him this" Thorin went on, eyes focused on his sister's face, searching for a reaction, "Well?"

Dís glanced back at him with a small smirk. "He didn't hear anythin' from me about giant spiders and elves, brother dear, if that's what you're hinting at."

"I didn't expect him to." Thorin returned the smirk, though a little softer. "I told him to tell me if there's any more bad dreams like these."

"Any more dreams of what?" Dís asked, one eyebrow raised, "Elves killing spiders? Do you count this as my baby boy having meaningful dreams of a sort? You're not planning on dragging them along to this place, are you?"

Thorin narrowed his eyes at her. "I'd rather chop off my own foot than get them remotely near this forest" he replied harshly, "How'd you call it, then? The boy seeing things he can't know they exist?"

"I call it a child having a bad dream" Dís replied softly, handing the parchment back to Thorin, "after a stressful day, maybe. We've all had those. You should know."

Thorin's lips tightened only so much as he tucked the parchment back beneath his coat. "I don't know" he answered, shoulders sagging a bit and still hoping he did not look as tired as he suddenly felt, "I'm not sure, that's all I know. Speaking of Kili – he may be lefthanded. I told Balin and Dwalin to allow him t'use his left hand in training, and during their lessons."

Dís gave a small smile, seeming rather tired herself, though she reached out and briefly touched her brother's hand. "You're doing well with the boys" she said, her voice still soft, "They adore you, and I'm grateful for that. Now, go to sleep, will you? You look like you could use it."

Spoke to Balin and Dwalin about Kili.

Spoke to Dís about Kili's dreams.

Sleep did not come easy this night for Thorin – it never did, actually, and as such, he'd already developed the necessary rituals to help him fall asleep anyway. It had helped, or so he he'd found out, to focus his thoughts on the day past, going through it as precisely as possible, to make sure everything was in order.

Spoke to Kili about missing his lessons.

Signed trade agreements with the men of Dunland.

His eyelids slipped shut, finally.

Took Fili to the forge…

Someone – something – touched his shoulder.

He jerked awake, the blade from beneath his pillow sliding out with the audible noise of metal on the grindstone sewn into the scabbard. Kili made a small, squeaking noise, his face a light spot in the dark room, brown eyes wide with fear as he stared at him. "W-Why do you keep a knife under your pillow, uncle?"

Thorin stared at him for a second, and then another one. His heart was beating wildly in his chest, breath coming in short gasps; it took another moment until he slowly lowered the blade again.

"Don't do this again, boy."

His voice sounded strangely hoarse to his own ears; he cleared his throat, only then realizing he still held the blade, and Kili still stared at him in sheer terror. Slowly, he put the knife back where it belonged, sitting down on the side of the bed and taking a deep breath, calming himself with some effort. It barely worked, but it made sure his brain started to function again.

"Come here." He extended a hand to the boy, briefly holding up his palms to make sure the lad saw there was no other weapon. "C'mere, nidoyithe**. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, c'me here."

Slowly, Kili came closer, naked feet padding on the floor. "I…" The boy was still shaking, as Thorin noticed, with dark smudges under his eyes, nose running as he made a tiny sound like a sob, wiping his face with his sleeve. "I – I had a bad dream, uncle. Y-Y'said to tell you, s-so – so I came…"

"I know." Thorin took another deep breath, pulling the shivering boy into his arms and briefly nuzzling dark hair as he pressed a kiss to his head, gently rocking him back and forth. "It's fine. It's fine, my boy, I'm here, you are safe. Tell me what you've seen, though. Tell me, I won't be angry, I promise."

Kili nodded, a small, abrupt movement against Thorin's chest, snivelling, bony shoulders twitching beneath light sobs. He was slim, Thorin noted, too slim for his age, actually, and a bit taller. But then again, Kili had never been overly much like the average dwarf.

"I – I was outside with Fee" the boy muttered finally, his voice barely audible from where his head was pressed into Thorin's shirt, "I mean – not outside. It was all dark, an' scary. Some tunnel, I dunno."

Tunnel, dark and scary. Thorin felt his brain immediately going through the many dangers the lower tunnels held, for dwarflings especially. "What else?" he asked, gently rubbing the boy's back.

Kili took another small breath, snivelling into his sleeve once more. "Dark an' scary" he repeated quietly, "But – but there was light, too. Flickerin', like torchlight, I mean. Fee was – Fee was scared, too, but – but he wouldn't say. Never says, he – he's busy bein' – princely and all that…" Breathing rather shakily, he wrapped his arms around Thorin's chest, squeezing tight. "Then he – he w-was gone, and – and I couldn't – I h-heard the – the drums and – t-the noise – I h-h-h-heard him scream, uncle, and I couldn't do anythin'…"

The boy was sobbing helplessly, Thorin's hands warm on his back, while he himself felt ice cubes slide down his spine. Drums in the tunnels? What tunnels? He knew, of course, what Kili did not; what Kili couldn't know. He'd never heard that before. He couldn't possibly…

"Kili" Thorin said quietly, "Kili, listen to me." The boy glanced up at him, face smeared with tears. Thorin wiped them away. "I would never let anyone hurt you" he said, his voice still soft, but firm as he held the boy's shoulders, child bones suddenly feeling overly small and fragile against his palms, "Never. Do you hear me? I would never allow anything to happen to you or your brother, I promise you that. I would protect you with the last breath in my lungs, and the last drop of blood in my veins." Gently cupping the boy's face with his hands, he pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I promise, my brave little boy. But I want you to promise me something in return, aye?"

Kili nodded, snivelling once more. "What, uncle?" he muttered.

Thorin briefly nudged his chin up to make sure the boy looked at him. "I want you to promise me that you and your brother will stay away from the mining tunnels unless me or Dwalin are with you. No adventuring there, aye? Promise me." The mining tunnels. It was the only possible solution; their family knew, better than likely any of the other dwarf tribes, what things could lurk in the dark if anyone dared delve too deep. Drums and flames, indeed. The memory made his stomach churn.

Kili nodded again, rather obediently. "I promise" he whispered.

Thorin gave a small smile. "If you give a promise, you've got to keep it. Remember that, will you?"

Kili nodded a third time, cuddling close. "Can I stay with you?" he muttered.

Thorin briefly glanced down at him, suddenly feeling distinctly lighthearted at the boy's question, while at the same time seeing his chances of only a few precious hours of sleep vanish into nothing. "Of course" he said anyway.

It did not take long until footsteps of another dwarfling were to be heard across the hallway.

*man/boy that is young; little boy

**(my) little boy