Check back soon, as I will definitely be revising this later this week. I just didn't want you all to think this plot bunny died out or something.

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Standard disclaimer is standard. See these names down there? Nope. Not mine.

"Say, Mister Bilbo…"

A long suffering sigh fluttered past the hobbit in question's lips as Ori's tentative, inquisitive voice rose above the steady clopping of heavy footfalls. He had only just managed to silence the incessant questions that had been hurled enthusiastically at him regarding the tale he had spun around the fire the night before, when the cheering warmth of the blaze and the promise of a rapt audience had made him feel positively lightheaded with childlike giddiness and a touch of wistful longing for a home long lost to the woods and hills behind him. He was now fiercely regretting having been swept into the nostalgia and taking on the role as the teller of tales for the remainder of the evening.

With a swift glance over his shoulder to Ori, Bilbo arranged his face into an expression of feigned patience and neutrality. He had most certainly had more than enough practice using such a face in front of his infuriating relatives.

"As I have told the others countless times already," he said with no small amount of thinly veiled irritance, "yes. Everything in that tale was true, I assure you. It's been passed down through my family for generations. Made quite the sport from a goblin's head. And a lovely sport it's been made, all thanks to my dear great-"

Ori shook his head fervently, clutching his precious book a little tighter to his chest as he did so. "Oh, no, Mister Bilbo, that wasn't my question at all! I'm not doubting any honesty in your story! I believe you!"

Bilbo raised a suspicious eyebrow at the interruption. A small feeling of sinking dread was settling into the pit of his stomach, though a flutter of amusement took flight beside it as well. Whenever Ori thought of some new question to grill the hobbit with on his life back in the Shire, the others were not usually far behind with inquiring after every detail possible in his long winded explanation. Many of the details they inquired after usually had no manner of significance or relevance to the initial question by the third or fourth prying query. (The strangest inquiries tended to originate from the youngest brothers, whose glimmering eyes had already taken a turn for shifty mischief.)Bilbo had taken to fabricating answers along the way, spinning tales of how hobbit babies were delivered by mail and how the Brandybuck river was actually charmed by ancient hobbits to flow pure brandy instead of water. Needless to say, the dwarves were intrigued.

With a glance around at the others, Bilbo's annoyingly mixed feeling of dread and amusement settled further into his core. Just about every eye was turned on him, rabidly awaiting the moment when they could join in on bombarding the hobbit until he was suitably flustered and unable to come up with any more absurdities. Bilbo had the feeling that was all the dwarves really hoped to gain from their avalanche of pointless inquiry. A slight feeling of annoyance washed over him as he realized that both Gandalf and Thorin had gone further ahead. That removes any chance of being rescued from the onslaught, he thought with a huff.

Bilbo grumbled ever so slightly, running a newly calloused hand over his grimy face. With a resigned mutter of finality, he gestured for Ori to continue.

"What is it, then?"

Ori blinked pleasantly as a small, curious furrow wrinkled his forehead. "Well, these last few days, you've been asking quite a lot about dwarvish beards and mountains and balance…"

No attention was turned from Ori and Bilbo, even as Kili let out a snort and purposefully strode past the small huddle with his head held high, seemingly ignoring the rest of Ori's inquiry. Fili kept pace with him all the while, flashing an encouraging smile to Ori as he trotted past in the wake of his brother.

"And so I've gotten to wondering," the wool clad dwarf stated with a small grin, "just what is it that keeps a hobbit so balanced over the mountains and trees that are so unlike your meadows in the Shire?"

A beat of silence followed. Bilbo knew it would be too foolish to wish for it to last any longer than that.

"He's right!" Gloin shouldered his way past Oin, who harrumphed indignantly as he was jostled unceremoniously out of the way. "Y've only had the slightest bit o' trouble with all this here climbing! Y've kept up with all the poise of a mountain bred dwarf for the most part!"

Balin chipped in pleasantly. "If anything, I'd say you have the best kept stability of the lot of us."

Hums of agreement buzzed about the group as Bilbo sank into thought. Really, Ori's question had not been anything like he had expected. In all honest truth, he did not have a valid answer for the young dwarf. He had wondered himself just how he had managed to keep up with the dwarves as they were so accustomed to their mountains, but never once had he reached a valid conclusion. Not that he would let the others know. The slightest of smirks settled over his lips. There could be some fun to this. Sure, it was no query as to the origin of hobbit toddlers or the cultural significance of a good set of brass buttons, but he could work with such a simple question. He lifted a hand to his head, scratching lightly as he put on what he hoped was a convincing pondering façade.

"That is a fairly insightful question, Ori."

A splutter from further ahead drew the attention momentarily to Kili, who was flailing about comically to keep from face planting. Fili stood beside his brother with one arm held out to prevent the fall that was sure to follow, though his attention was fully on the group approaching, as they had not entirely left the range of hearing the rest of Ori's query. With a heavy gripe in Khuzdul (with several choice words that made Ori blush and Dwalin bark out Kili's name in reprimand), Kili lost the battle with gravity and toppled dramatically head over heels, straight past Fili's outstretched arm and onto the hard packed ground below. Fili blinked down at his brother momentarily in shock before smiling sheepishly, lowering his arm pointlessly and mumbling something about keeping his focus. A short Westron phrase wove its way into Kili's Khuzdul curses.

"You had one job, Fee! One job!"

Fili pointedly ignored the remark and looked back up to the others as they approached.

At the group's questioning look, Fili shrugged and pointed sharply to the ground by Kili's cursing form. A miniscule pebble sat burrowed in the dirt, scuffed over from what must have been Kili's boot.

"I would have been surprised if he had missed it, really."

Kili grumbled another curse, earning a cuff over the head from Dwalin as he strode past. Ignoring the reprimand entirely, Kili looked up at the group that was now upon him. Fili heaved him to his feet as he crossed his arms and huffed, the very picture of childlike irritation. He inclined his head in Ori's direction as he addressed Bilbo.

"Insightful? How was that any more insightful than any of the other questions we've asked?"

Bilbo bit his lip to keep from laughing at the look of pure offense on the young prince's face as he responded. "Now, now. Be honest with yourself, Kili. It's the first sensible question I've received for days from you lot."

Kili gaped at the hobbit as the others chuckled lightly. "That's not true! I was nothing but sensible when we all talked yesterday!"

"You asked me the origins of pashmina, Kili."

"And? That was sensible!"

"We were discussing music at the time."

"How is that not related?"

Silence. Then, in an entirely flat tone,

"What."

Ori waved his hand about to recapture the attention as Kili's face turned an interesting shade of pink at the laughter of his fellow companions. "You stray from the topic though, Mister Baggins! How do you keep your balance?"

Bilbo resumed his feigned look of intellect, allowing a glimmer to enter his eye that told of ancient knowledge. He had possessed such a gift from a young age, earning him a reputation as "the boy with the old soul" when he was a much smaller hobbit. There was reason behind him being one of the greatest story tellers in all of Hobbitton.

"There's really not much to it," he started plainly. "At first, I believed it to be my feet. Sizable though they are, they have quite the grip on them."

Fili interrupted curiously. "But they're no larger than any of our boots! Surely that can't be the trick?"

Bilbo nodded knowingly, causing Fili to smirk slightly at his brother in the smug victory that only made sense between siblings. A barely audible mutter arose from behind Bilbo as he turned away from the brothers and back to the group.

"That was anything but sensible."

"Stop trying, Kili."

"…No."

Bilbo cleared his throat loudly before continuing. "As master Fili has had the kindness to point out, there is not much difference between my feet and your boots. So I scrutinized the details and finally stumbled upon my answer. As the hair on your chins provides your weight from the middle, the hair on my feet provides the weight from below. We hobbits grow our beards on our feet, you see."

Stunned silence met this remark, and Bilbo blinked at the range of reaction on the dwarves faces. He had most certainly not been expecting this response. As the silence stretched past the mark of comfort and entered into the awkward stage, Bilbo crossed his arms, raising a brow at the gaping dwarves as he did so.

"What's so striking about that?"

Bofur was the first to answer.

"Well, we've been stumblin' around out here thinkin' there really isn't much in common between our type and yours. Turns out we might've assumed wrong! Looks like Ori was the first to uncover it!"

Bilbo narrowed his eyes suspiciously as Bombur elbowed Bofur sharply in the ribs. "And just what have you been assuming from my… "type", then? And uncover what? Is that what all of these questions have been about?"

A grin fluttered across Bofur's face as he nodded in confirmation. "Oh, aye! Lookin' for some small similarity between us? It's proven mighty amusing these last long days. We've been tryin' to figure you out from the get go!" This time, Bombur smacked Bofur upside the head, knocking his hat clean off. Bilbo looked on incredulously. Curiosity drove him further as a feeling of irrepressible amusement slowly broiled in his stomach. Surely they could not have taken his tall tales to be truth…

"So what have you figured out?"

The silence that followed was too long for comfort. After ten counts, Bilbo pinched the bridge of his nose.

"What is it you think hobbits do then? Just from my answers?"

Fili inclined his head thoughtfully. "Well, we know you have a knack for gardening…"

Bilbo nodded slightly in affirmation. So far, so true, he thought wryly.

Gloin pitched in his own two cents. "An' you said you enjoy a good spot o' brandy from that river of yours every so often."

Bilbo winced. Ah, not so true.

Before Bilbo could open his mouth to correct his blunder, Ori propped open his book, balancing it across his arm as he flipped through the pages. His eyes scanned the immaculate lines scrawled out across the leaflets as he began to quote the various tidbits of information Bilbo had been feeding them. The hobbit's urge to laugh rose dangerously with each utterance.

"You sometimes sleep for weeks on end in hibernation for winter, the game of golf originated from your very own family, the typical greeting consists of turning your back and simply ignoring the other until they leave you be, you are known to take to fits of amnesia and often forget to say goodbye when leaving the company of another, your distant relatives are of fairy blood, pan roasted mouse is a delicacy among small folk, your young are mailed directly to your hobbit hole from 'Mother Earth' after they've been grown from seedlings in the ground, your feet change color so as to match your environment when you are threatened, music is your preferred choice of communication, pashmina is your source of currency, and your beard and balance is centered on your feet."

Bilbo blinked in dumbfounded shock. Had he really created such absurd notions? When had he said mouse was a delicacy? And again with the pashmina? He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Yes, well, that might not all be entirely true…"

Nori tugged lightly at his beard in contemplation. "If your beard is on your feet, then where are your beads?"

Bilbo stifled a chuckle. "We, ah, don't use beads, you see. They get horribly in the way. Fall out too easily as well."

Ori piped up from besides Nori. "Well, you just need to braid them in properly then! You can't have your beard without your beads! Here!"

And before he could protest, Bilbo had a swarm of dwarves at his feet, avidly braiding whatever spare beads they could find into his hair.

Thorin chose this moment to rejoin the company, trailing solemnly after Gandalf as the wizard strode back to observe the group of dwarves. The leader raised a dark brow at the sight of the warriors crowded eagerly around Bilbo, examining his feet with rapt interest. He spared a glance to Dwalin, who stood well away from the shenanigans. Thorin gestured silently towards the cluster with a curious glimmer in his eye, drawing an amused shrug from Dwalin. Just as he was about to join the company and question just what the ruckus was about, Kili stumbled away from the group with a huff, marching towards him with an irritated glimmer in his eye. Thorin held out an arm, effectively bringing Kili to a stumbling stop, causing the young archer to sway slightly. His sister-son looked up at him sheepishly, though the peeved glimmer in his eye failed to disperse. Tilting his head slightly, Thorin motioned towards the group.

"And what have I missed?"

Kili turned to stare back at the group, who had now begun to attempt braiding an inconveniently dangling bead onto Bilbo's foot, much to the hobbit's chagrin. He turned back to Thorin, a deadpan expression on his face.

"Hobbits eat mice and have beards on their feet that keep them balanced."

Thorin blinked, stunned momentarily into a loss for words.

"Ah."

Deeming this suitable dismissal, Kili shrugged away from Thorin and stalked off, kicking out at a rock as he did so. The following yelp and solid thud alerted Thorin of his inevitable descent to the dirt. He turned to Kili with a knowing glint in his eye as his nephew grumbled, pushing himself up from the ground. Striding past Kili as he barked for the others to follow, Thorin offered a hand, which Kili reluctantly took. His face turned red as Thorin addressed him matter-of-factly.

"Jealousy is not quite fit for a Durin."

Bilbo strode alongside Gandalf at the back of the now mobile company, relieved to be away from the absolute ridiculousness of his situation. He sighed deeply as the beads braided intricately into the hair on his feet pinched at his skin. He kicked out lightly, watching as the braid held fast and the beads glimmered, clicking lightly against each other. He grumbled slightly. Dwarvish braids did not come undone so easily. Gandalf looked down at him in amusement as the old wizard lit his pipe, a twinkle of humor dancing in his eye. In a deep, rumbling voice laced with obvious mirth, he questioned his small companion.

"Fairy blood and bearded feet, you say?"

Bilbo spared a glance up at the tall wizard before a wry smile lit across his face.

"Don't let the truth get in the way of a good story."

…what. I'm sorry, guys, I don't even know. I have a massive case of writer's block for the moment, and I tried to work it out before going back to FtSoS with this. It ended up being more about Bilbo than Kili. I think I mentioned balance all of three times. Gah.

BUT! I have an excuse! Lovely reviewer Dreamers0rule0the0earth suggested a jealous!Kili because Bilbo is so light on his feet and perfectly balanced without a beard. Or blame the absolutely amazing weather that's popped up out of nowhere here and caused all thoughts of writing to vanish from my little spring-crazed brain.

I would very much so appreciate any kind of review/feedback! I'm taking requests for the situations Kili will end up in later on. Also, I will award a cookie to whoever can guess the name of the song that inspired a line or two in this. You seriously deserve one if you can guess. (Hint: you see that last line, there?)