And from one extreme to the other. I'm sorry for the long wait. Real life is a harsh, harsh mistress. In other news, Smalls has met Richard Armitage! She got a hug and an autograph from him, can you believe it?! Because we can't.

Theme song - Better by Guns 'N' Roses


The strange man – Bilbo Baggins – led the way into the nearest of the strange buildings and Fili remained between the man and his brother as they followed. This Baggins-man had a sharp eye – the only one in the market place to catch on – and a clever tongue – the dressing down he gave that Lobelia-woman was inspiring – and, though he had kept the local lawmen from looking at them too close, there was no telling what a man with as quick of a wit as this one would want with them.

The man invited the two of them into his home – it was almost worth all the hassle just to catch sight of the inside of the odd little under-hill dwellings – noted with a sigh that the paint on the door was chipped in places – did he talk to himself like this often? – and asked the boys to make themselves at home.

The entryway of the place was cozy. A coat rack sat off to the right, with a shelf for keys beside it. A few sets of shoes rested against the footboard on the opposite side – three pairs, all the same size, belonging to an adult male – but no artwork decorated either wall. The floor of the entry was tiled to look like cobblestones, but the hall beyond it was floored with a warm, rich looking wood.

The Baggins-man encouraged them to leave their shoes at the door, but didn't linger to ensure that they did – continuing on to the curving hallway and through an open archway to the left, instead.

Fili took the moment to share a questioning look with Kili as he slipped off his shoes. Kili only grinned and shrugged as he did the same, but he did glance back at the door that had been closed behind them. Fili did as well. The door wasn't locked and it didn't sound like there was anyone else in the house. It was promising – but of what, Fili wasn't sure just yet.

The two boys moved, quick and quiet, to catch up with their host.

The entry hall seemed to be the only passage way the underground home had, but it twisted off to the side after a bit, making it difficult to see where it might lead to. The archway Baggins had disappeared into led to a formal sitting room, which opened into a more comfortable looking den, complete with fireplace and cozy armchairs, and that flowed into a dining room. Knick-knacks decorated every flat surface in sight and most looked like the quaint sort – not worth more than a smile - but here and there came the shine of something more precious and it made Fili's fingers tingle to know that such treasures were within such easy reach.

Kili gave him a sidelong look, a smile, and a quick flexing of his fingers, but Fili shook his head and clenched his right hand into a fist for a half moment. They wouldn't take anything, not yet. They'd see what the stranger wanted, and if he demanded too much – if his kindness was false – then they'd let their fingers roam, but until then they'd wait.

Fili came to an abrupt stop in the entrance of the dining room, transfixed by the sight of so much food on the table. There was sandwich material and chips and crisps and all sorts of other side dishes. Kili came to stop beside him a moment later and became still with an unnaturalness that came from cautious surprise. It wasn't that they'd never seen such a bounty of food before – he was ten and it was the Harvest Feast and everyone was there and they were all so happy – and it wasn't like they were starving, either – they'd eaten at least twice a day since leaving home, had to, Mum knew when they were lying – but it was a lot to take in. Fili's eyes finally left the food long enough to scan the rest of the room. Placemats set out – enough for the Baggins-man and two others - several stacks of paper arranged in tidy piles along a side table, another archway – were there no doors in this place? – that led to what sounded to be a kitchen, and the Baggins-man standing – on the far side of the table, now – giving the two of them an amused, but not unkind, look.

"Well, go on. Have a seat, then." The man indicated the chairs in front of them and took a seat himself.

Kili was looking to Fili again, all bright eyes and raised eyebrows, a brief pressing of his lips together and then rocking back on his heels ever so slightly. Fili let a corner of his mouth curl upward, but let his eyes flicker to the right for a moment, shifting a touch closer to his little brother as he did. They had eaten this morning and while there was no definitive plan for dinner, it wasn't a situation they were unfamiliar with and he'd rather not presume the food was for them. If the Baggins-man offered, they'd eat – no sense in letting good intentions go to waste – but until then, they would say nothing.

They both took seats across from their host, and Fili was careful to make sure not to scrape the chairs across the wooden floors. Their host smiled at them and cleared his throat.

"I'm sure you overheard already, but I'm Bilbo Baggins and I'm pleased to be your host." He said this with a deep nod of his head.

"I'm Kili," his younger brother spoke first, voice bright and cheerful.

"Fili," he added. He paused. "Were you expecting company?" He kept eye contact when he spoke, but spared a brief glance for the food, to indicate the cause of his question. Being in a strange place, with one stranger, was one thing – being in a strange place with an unknown number of strangers to arrive at an unknown time was something else entirely.

The Baggins-man smiled, and it was genuine, if mischievous. "I was, but now that my guests are here, I'm hoping they'll join me in eating."

Kili's hands twitched. It was the only sign of how eager he was to dig in and wasn't a movement that would be visible from across the table. The two shared another look. It only took a blink on Fili's part before they were filling their plates with sandwich makings and crisps and chips and potato salad and some other sort of amalgamation that looked a bit like potato salad, but was sweet – incredibly sweet, must be some sort of dessert – and, of course, the biscuits.

For long minutes, the only sounds to be heard were of the three of them eating. Fili tried to make sure that they didn't take too much. They didn't want to seem half-starved and they didn't want to come over as rude, either, but, most importantly, they didn't want to abuse a kindness. If the Baggins-man was kind enough to feed two pick-pockets he didn't know from mice in the field, then there was a chance he may be kind enough to feed them the last of his food. It was hard to hold back – harder for Kili, though, who didn't have as many memories of times when their belts weren't tight – but they kept their portions modest and tried to remember their manners. The first time the basket of crisps was emptied, though, their host only stood and made his way to a door – a pantry door, first door that Fili had seen in the place – and then returned with another bag of them, which he proceeded to empty into the basket. The bread was replaced with fresh loaves as the three of them worked their way through the feast and the supply of meats and cheeses never seemed to end.

The Baggins-man finished eating before Fili and Kili did, but didn't seem bothered that they continued to eat. He refilled his ice tea and offered to refill the drinks the boys had as well – which they accepted, but trying to avoid speaking with their mouths full was a tricky bit of business – as he watched them.

Finally, they slowed down. Fili was uncomfortably full and he was sure Kili was as well. There would be stomach pains later, but he had no regrets - it had been a long while since the two of them had been well and truly stuffed. He knew, by the warmth in Kili's eyes and the open smile that he wore now, that the Baggins-man had won his little brother over rather thoroughly, but Fili was waiting for the other shoe to drop. The food was good and plentiful, and he was grateful for it – more so for Kili's delight and the fact that there were fewer shadows on Kili's face now – but every mercy had a cost, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't nervous about what the price for this one would be.

"You're the man from the market the other day," Kili spoke.

This was a good tactic for the pair of them. Kili spoke, keeping his words playful and obvious, while Fili had a chance to observe – to see what wasn't being spoken and to get a better feel for the situation.

The Baggins-man nodded and sipped at his drink. "I am."

Kili glanced at Fili, then back to their host. "You saw what we were doing?"

The Baggins-man nodded again. "I did."

"Why didn't you call the law on us, then?"

The Baggins-man paused – taken off guard, but good at hiding it – and took a breath before replying. "I did such things when I was your age." He looked down at his drink, then back up, splitting his attention between the two boys. "I didn't have a need for the things I took, just the thrill that came from taking them. I had thought that it might be the same for you."

Kili shifted in the chair next to Fili, and Fili bumped their elbows together in a subtle move. The Baggins-man seemed the kindly sort and while Mum didn't know how they went about obtaining a good portion of their funds and food – told them she'd never ask as long as they never told – it still pained them to think of what she would say if anyone told her.

The Baggins-man was quiet, too, and there was a tightness to his eyes now, but his smile was still genuine. He shifted and spoke again. "So, what brought the pair of you to District Shire?"

Ah, changing the topic, then. Kili bumped Fili's foot under the table and Fili nudged his knee in response.

"Actually, your tale-telling wasn't too far off, Master Boggins." Fili hoped that the Baggins-man realized that his brother was just being playful. It'd be a terrible shame to have made such a generous friend only to lose him over a bit of teasing. Luckily, their host looked more amused than annoyed. "We came with our uncles, looking for work. The folk of District Shire don't seem to have much work for those who aren't out of their teens, though, so we've taken to wandering about so as not to be too bothersome while our uncles do what they can."

The Baggins-man nodded. "Putting younglings to work is highly frowned upon in District Shire, and our children aren't considered adults until they've reached twenty years."

Kili's face scrunched up into a scowl, but it was only partially for show. As the youngest, he'd been fighting their whole lives to be viewed as something more than a child, and to be told that, in this district, at least, the threshold for maturity was that much farther away? Fili fought back a smile.

The Baggins-man seemed to suspect the reason for Kili's protesting as well. "Is the age of maturity that much lower in other districts?"

"In most it's seventeen or eighteen, and in some it's fifteen," Kili returned, wearing a grin once more.

The Baggins-man nodded and seemed to consider this. He spent several minutes observing them with an assessing look that reminded Fili sharply of his mother's brother – he should be in Bree at the moment, shouldn't he? – before he nodded again. "I don't know your situation, and I won't pretend that I do." He paused, the first bit of uncertainty showing on his face. "My home is rather large for just myself, and there are plenty of rooms that aren't used. If you don't have a safe place to sleep, then there are beds here you may use – assuming your uncles approve, of course." He paused again, this time with a calculating look. "Sleeping is free, and this meal is free, but if you'd like to share further meals with me – which I would be more than pleased, if you would – then I ask that you pitch in around the house. There are more than enough chores that I find myself too lazy to do, if you like." The smile their host wore was an odd mix of welcoming and self-deprecating with those words. "As for earning money, no one here will hire a youngling." He paused. "But I have more than a few neighbors who'd be willing to reward a young man or two who'd be willing to help with some of their more bothersome chores."

Fili and Kili shared a confused, almost suspicious, look. "But you just said no one would hire us," Kili's words were slow now, and Fili felt his body tensing.

"No one will hire you for a proper job, that's true," the Baggins-man nodded, an amused look in his eyes. "But nobody cares for doing chores, and it's a well-known fact that the doing of chores builds character in our younglings. The trading of chores done for spending money is wide-spread in District Shire, as learning to manage their own finances early also builds character in our younglings. Why, I imagine that two young men willing to work hard could make a fair bit of coin, if they were so inclined."

Kili turned to Fili in a move so quick that the older of them was surprised that the younger hadn't given himself a crick in his neck. The want in the younger man's posture was obvious. Fili couldn't blame him – the idea of a warm bed, three meals a day and the ability to make some proper money was very tempting. Fili was still waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the moment, but it wasn't an opportunity they could really afford to pass up. They'd have to be careful around their host – until they knew him better, at least – and they'd have to let Balin and Dwalin know where they were, but it looked to be a good deal all around.

Fili smiled and turned back to the Baggins-man. "That front door of yours did look like it could use another coat or two of paint."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"No! You're stretching your words again – you must be!"

Kili grinned. This story was well known throughout District Ered Luin, but unheard of here in District Shire and while he may still be a bit young, he was more than confident that he was the best spinner of this particular tale.

The young man pulled his hands out of the soapy water and placed both palms over his heart, ignoring the suds and water drippings that made their way down his shirt front as he did. "I swear to you, on my honor and on the divine mercy of your scones, that every word is fact." He punctuated his words with a bit of a bow and ignored the pained sigh that came from his right.

Master Boggins gaped and looked from him to Fili and back – he was the best audience that Kili had ever met – and sat his cup of tea down on table at which he was seated. "But Rhosgobels are armored."

"Yes, they are." Kili agreed, ignoring the elbow suddenly placed in his side. He'd get back to the dishes in a moment – he was having too much fun watching Master Boggins fluster over his words.

"You're telling me that Fili - that responsible, respectful young man right there - took one of the fastest, strongest armored scouting vehicles on the market and –"

"Totaled it, completely. Yes." Another pained sigh, but Kili could hear the smile he was hiding behind it. "Starting the engine only produced the most pitiable of whines. If it'd been an animal, we'd have had to shoot it." Kili paused for dramatic effect. "And that is why Fili is not allowed to drive – under any circumstances – ever!" He gave a nod and turned back to the dishes.

Fili made a sharp movement that drew Kili's eyes up to his and scowled at him. "I will end you."

Kili blinked. His brother must have been practicing his impressions, as he was channeling their mother's brother quite well this time. Quite well, but not well enough.

Kili let his eyes widen and took a half step back, pressing his lips together tight for a moment before splashing some of the rinsing water at his brother. Fili let out a squawk of a sound in protest and promptly splashed Kili back. This led to a minor war of splashing - more of a bit of a skirmish, really - which ended with Fili's skillful deflection of Kili's final attack and his prompt counter attack, which left Kili with a face-full of dishwater.

Kili laughed, trying to get the worst of the wet out of his eyes before the sting of the soap set in. He could hear his brother's laughter – a warm sound that meant safety – but by the time he got his eyes clear, the chuckling was gone and Fili's smile was fading. There was tightness in his older brother's eyes as he looked at their host and Kili felt a heavy weight settle in his gut.

The mess – they had made such a mess! There was more water on the floor and dripping from the two brothers than there was left in the sink, thanks to their antics. Here they were supposed to be helping Master Boggins and instead they had watered his kitchen...

Kili sent a quick glance at where their host still sat, only to find him smirking.

"I don't know why the two of you are giving me such a look - it's not as if I'm the one that'll be cleaning this mess up."

Kili released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and felt his smile return. It wasn't that he expected anything overly harsh from Master Boggins – although he wielded that damned wooden spoon with an accuracy that had to be unnatural – but Thorin was their mother's brother and if he'd caught sight of what they'd done, he'd have yelled them into next week and demanded the mess be cleaned yesterday. Thorin loved him and Fili, they both knew that, but he was more used to soldiers than nephews and didn't always realize that they weren't the same thing. Master Boggins wasn't even family and had no reason not to be cross with them making a mess of his usually tidy kitchen, yet here he was smiling at them as if he'd have done much the same if he'd been standing in either of their places.

Master Boggins gave the two of them a significant look and motioned to the linen closet with a nod of his head.

Kili saw his brother heading in the correct direction from the corner of his eye, but didn't feel compelled to follow him just yet. Fili paused, midway through his second step, and turned to the younger of the brothers - tugging gently on a lock of hair when Kili didn't meet his gaze right away. Kili gave his older brother a hesitant smile, weaker than he'd have normally worn, and lifted both his eyebrows a touch. Fili furrowed his own, but gifted Kili with a smile that was small and gentle. Fili looked back to Master Boggins and rolled his eyes, wearing a smirk now, and huffed his way to the linen closet on his own.

"Is everything well, then, Kili?" Kili like how simple and honest Master Boggins' own body language was. His voice was soft, but firm - as if to provide comfort and reassurance at once. His hands had tightened a bit around his mug and he was frowning some now - his confused frown, not his thinking nor his displeased frown - but, again, there was no anger or frustration present. Not for the first time, he admired how quickly the man seemed to adapt to the two brothers and the odd way of communicating they had.

"Yes, well enough," he finally answered. He opened his mouth to ask a question, some why or another, but the wording of it fled almost immediately. The whys of it didn't matter. Master Boggins had taken them in - had trusted them, knowing they were pickpockets and maybe worse – and treated them like family. The whys... they suddenly weren't so important. He gifted his host with a sudden, cheeky smile. "Quite well, actually, truth be told."

Master Boggins blinked rapidly before he answered with a smile of his own. "Well, then - I suggest that you march yourself to the nearest towel and dry your person before my floors are wet enough for the neighbors to think they've been mopped." He motioned again toward the hall Fili had disappeared down not moments before.

"Aye, I suppose I should." Kili let his smile soften and again he placed the palms of both hands over his heart before bowing deeply. "By your leave, then, Master Boggins."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Fili smirked from where he sat at the table, connecting his vidcom - a small, slight thing built for travel - to his host's portable cpu, which currently rested on the dining room table. He turned his face into the crook of his arm and feigned a sneeze, but felt Kili shift his gaze to him from their host and had to feign another sneeze so that the poor Baggins-man didn't think he was laughing at him.

"Now, honestly, Master Boggins, you know how Fili and I stretch our words! Mother isn't even half as terrifying as we've let on! There's no need for all this fretting."

The Baggins-man made a rude noise behind Fili, where his brother and the man stood speaking. Their host was making another batch of his mouth-watering scones, but was currently stirring the batter so furiously that both brothers were worried that he was beginning to regret his decision. "I am not fretting."

Fili pushed back from the table and turned to his companions just in time to see not only Kili's ill-fated decision to try to sneak a taste of the yet-uncooked batter, but also to see - and hear - Bilbo's famous "Assistant" - a horrible implement carved from oak, yet stronger than steel, holding the shape of a kitchen spoon - land across Kili's knuckles in retribution for the attempt. Kili yelped and clutched his hand to his chest, but was careful to keep any expression related to a scowl or a sneer away from his face. The Baggins-man was not to be back-sassed, after all, by neither action nor spoken word. Kili did manage to sneak a mildly indignant look to his older brother, but Fili had no sympathy for him. The Baggins-man had made the rules of his household quite clear when they agreed to stay as his guests and, among them, was that there was no partaking of uncooked batter, unless it was to lick the bowl or spoon clean and only if given permission.

Kili huffed, scowling down at his hand. "Well, it's easy to think otherwise." He muttered.

Bilbo paused in his mixing for a second time and arched an eyebrow at Kili, face otherwise blank. "Is it?"

Kili's eyes widened and he took a step back, his muscles tense, but only in preparation for quick retreat. Uncle Dwalin had prepared them for many a scenario in which their lives may be endangered, but none of these had covered an opponent who was so surprisingly agile or armed with a weapon as deceptively innocent as his dreaded spoon.

Fili grinned, enjoying the peril his younger brother had called upon himself, when a single trilling note startled the three of them from the mock-tension that had filled the room. He looked at the screen of the portable and felt his own eyes widen. Then he said a word that he knew his mother wouldn't approve of.

"Fili!"

Evidently it was a word the Baggins-man didn't approve of, either.

The eldest of Dis' sons was saved from a scolding from their host, though, by her youngest son, who understood the sort of danger that tone mixed with those words could mean. Kili crossed the room to stop at Fili's shoulder and while he couldn't see it, Fili almost felt his younger brother flinch when he saw the reason for Fili's cussing.

"Is everything okay, boys?" Bilbo's voice held a cautious, quiet note of concern, but it wasn't until the sound of the mixing bowl being set on the counter top reached him that Fili was able to tear his eyes away from the foreboding screen.

"It's mum," Fili tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry for it. "We haven't checked in with her in a..." a quick glance to Kili only received a shaking head. Damn, how long had it been since they last spoke with her? "In a little while and she's left us a few -" here Kili let out a rude snort. "A few... messages."

Bilbo frowned, finally setting his Assistant down. "And these messages, they're not so good?"

Fili opened his mouth to try to struggle out a response when the screen of the laptop changed and the speakers let out a chiming noise that, had Fili not been in a state of utter terror, he might've thought was rather relaxing. Kili let loose a strangled sound and was on the far side of the room before Fili was able to catch hold of him.

"Get back here, you coward!" He hissed.

Kili, safely standing behind the Baggins-man now, shook his head violently. "You're the oldest, you're supposed to protect me!"

Fili sent another fearful glance at the still-chiming screen before turning his gaze back to his only hope. "This is mum! There's nothing to protect you from! Besides, you're the baby - she won't be mad at you!"

"That's a load of shite and you know it!" Kili snarled back, ignoring the Baggins-man's sound of protest. "Besides, you're the heir, and I'm just the spare..." he opened his mouth as if to add more to his argument, but let his voice trail off, eyes wide and filled with an expression that lay somewhere between apprehensive and apologetic.

Twice more, the chiming sounded, ringing louder than it should have in the otherwise quiet home, before Fili clenched his jaw and nodded. Fine, he was the oldest - the mature and responsible one, obviously - he would answer the dreaded call. He sent one last glare at his younger brother - there would be retribution for that comment later, and of the very worst sort - before he took a bracing breath, schooled his features into a more appropriate expression, and clicked to receive the call.

"Mum! You're looking lovely, as always! We were just about to call you!"

"Oh, were you? Wonderful! I suppose I should have exercised a bit more patience, then, hmm? After all, weeks of silence can be quite refreshing and it's not as if I haven't been assured, by others, that the two of you are still alive and whole. What possible reason could a mother have for feeling concerned for her only two sons?"

Even as he winced, Fili felt a familiar warmth flood through him at the sound of his mother's voice and the sight of her face on the screen - her skin wasn't as pale as it had been before they'd left, but there was a tightness in her eyes that made his heart clench - soothed an ache he hadn't even known he was carrying. She was sitting in the living room, in the good armchair, and was stirring something - probably tea, it was almost all she drank now. She was wearing the grey cardigan - the one that made her eyes look more steely - and her red knit scarf - the first one Ori made for her - and she looked absolutely regal. He wondered if the fireplace was lit, if she was warm enough, if she was hurting again - but he knew to hold off on those questions, for now at least.

"I'm sorry for that, Mum - you know how the tech is here, you can't get a wireless connection out of the district for a king's ransom." His face hurt, he was smiling so wide, and he couldn't stop his eyes from soaking up every detail of her - of home - that was on the screen. "That and time managed to slip away from us, again."

The look she gave him was mildly amused and thoroughly unimpressed. "Oh, yes, of course, darling. It must have been my other two sons who were clever enough to access District Dunland's full array of pornographic channels without letting the locals know." She paused to sip from her tea, but didn't look away from the screen. There was laughter sparkling in her eyes now, which meant that her words had been carefully chosen and that she was fully aware that they were a guest in someone's home. A quick glance at the Baggins-man showed him wearing an expression caught somewhere between proud and indignant. Kili was standing very still and communing rather urgently with the ceiling. "They certainly wouldn't have neglected their mother for so long."

"Ah, yes - well." Fili struggled for a few moments to find the appropriate words to appease his mother, before giving it up for a lost cause. "I'm sorry, mum. We both are."

The change was immediate - her posture relaxed, her eyes softened, her smile warmed and, for a moment, Fili was so homesick that the pain was almost too much to bear.

"Speaking of your younger brother, where is he? You haven't sold him to any traveling circuses just yet, have you?"

"No, not yet - I haven't found any that would take him in, not even if I paid them to." His mother's laugh was accompanied by the sound of Kili's noise of protest and soon enough his younger brother was standing at this shoulder again.

"Hey, mum." Kili, always so loud and boisterous otherwise, somehow managed to become almost timid when speaking with their mum over the vidcom. If Fili ever noticed how his little brothers eyes took on a wet shine after, and sometimes during, each call, he never mentioned it. "'M sorry, about the not calling, or writing. We didn't mean it."

"Oh, loves, it's alright," her expression softened even more and Fili could almost feel her eyes searching them for whatever it was that mothers were always searching their children for. "Just an old woman fussing over the last and greatest of her treasures."

Kili made an inarticulate sound of objection, even as Fili shook his head. "Don't say things like that, mum - you're not old."

Mum set her mug down and readjusted something in her lap. "Well, I'm not exactly as young as I used to be either, am I?" Her smile turned mischievous. "I can see the two of you are eating well, though, and getting enough sleep. Good. Which poor soul are you eating out of house and home, then?"

Fili spoke again. "That's why we were on our way to calling you, actually. We've met a very kind local, a Mister Baggins, who's been generous enough to share with us a place to sleep and a few meals a day -"

"We do chores to help out, though, and help to fix up the place for him," Kili jumped in.

Fili was so used to Kili's interruptions that it was rare for him to notice them anymore. "And he's even put in the good word with some of his neighbors so that we can make some money of our own."

Kili nodded. "We've made a nearly a hundred credits so far, between the two of us."

Fili felt his face flush and looked away from the screen. They should've earned at least that in a week, each one of them, with proper jobs. "No one will hire us," he explained. "The age of maturity is twenty, here."

Mum made a sound, somewhere between a coo and a sigh. "All's well, my gems - you're doing the best you can with what you've been given, and that's where the importance lies."

Fili glanced back up and there was understanding in his mother's eyes, along with an undercurrent of what could've been pride. Fili felt his smile return a bit.

"Well - Anyhow, he gave us the idea that it might be nice for you to meet him - said he thought it might help you worry a bit less if you knew where we were and who we were bunking with."

"He sounds like a wise man. I'd be happy to meet him."

Fili nodded and gave his mother another smile, before turning to beckon Bilbo forward. The bowl he'd been mixing still rested on the counter and, for a moment, Fili thought he saw a flash of anxiety in the man's eyes, but he set down his spoon, ran a hand through his hair and gave a tug on his vest - that had been an oddity at first, that he wore a vest in the privacy of his own home, but now it was just another thing that made the Baggins-man who he was - before he made his way over.

Kili shifted behind Fili's shoulder. "I love you, mum," his words were still soft but there was a bit more smile to be heard in his voice now.

"I love you, too, my treasure." If mum's eyes were shining particularly bright, no one made mention.

Kili pressed a hand to Fili's shoulder momentarily and Fili glanced up, caught sight of Kili's slight nod, and nodded himself. "We'll, uh, we'll be nearby." Fili spoke to the screen that held his mother's image. It was a silly thought, but, for a moment, moving away from the sight and sound of his mother was enough to choke the words in his throat. He cleared his throat with a cough and gave her what was sure to be a watery smile. "Love you."

Mum answered with one of her own. "You've done well, boyo, you both have." She shook her head, but her smile remained. "I'm proud of you."

Fili nodded, not trusting his voice and moved out of the chair. The Baggins-man stood closer now than Fili expected him to be and he put a comforting hand on Fili's shoulder.

"The pan's greased and the batter's mixed, would you mind helping your brother finish with getting the scones into the oven?" His voice was gentle, but not so soft that it wouldn't be picked up by the portable-turned-vidcom.

Fili nodded again and spared a grateful smile for his host before moving into the kitchen proper. Kili stood in front of the oven, sliding what looked to be a second tray in, and balancing two more full trays on his left forearm as he did. Fili rolled his eyes, but didn't move to interfere. As soon as the trays were in the oven, Kili turned around and gave a pointed glance to the bit of wall on either side of the kitchen doorway. Fili nodded. A door would've been more preferable, easier to hide behind, but they were adaptable. Kili moved toward his older brother, scooping up the bowl and the ever-feared Assistant along the way, but scowled when Fili snatched the bowl away as soon as he was in reach. Fili arched an eyebrow and mouthed the words "you're the heir, I'm the spare" and the scowl collapsed into a pout.

That matter settled, the pair of them darted to crouch on either side of the archway that connected the dining room with the kitchen and listened.

"Baggins, I believe I've heard that name before." That was mother's voice, of course, but it was a bit warmer than she usually used for talking to people outside the family - she must be pleased that the Baggins-man was treating them so kindly. That was good, Fili nodded to himself and scooped up a bit more of the scone-batter that still lined the edges of the bowl, Mum had a sharp tongue when she wished.

"My father's family is quite prominent," the Baggins-man nodded. He was wearing what Fili had learned was his polite-welcoming face. He was still nervous about all this, then. "Rather well respected in the community. In fact, I do believe the Thain before this last one was a great uncle of mine."

"Oh? And your mother's family?" Was Mum pressing the Baggins-man for information?

"Ah, the Tooks." The Baggins-man's smile curled into something a good deal more roguish. "Quite the opposite, I'm afraid. The Tooks are well known throughout the district, and especially here in Hobbiton, as a rather disreputable bunch - prone to adventures and all sorts of other mischief."

"Are adventures looked down upon so much in District Shire, then?" She was!

"For the most part, yes." Was the Baggins-man aware of what mum was doing? He'd mostly dropped the polite face, now, and the smile he wore was much closer to the one he had when he and Kili told their stories. "Most Shirelings never set foot outside their hometowns, let alone leave the district's borders. It's a dangerous world out there and there are many of a mind that to go off exploring it is to invite danger to our doorstep."

Mum hummed in response. "And how did two such different people as your parents manage to come together?"

Kili, across the way from him, cringed and sent Fili a pained look. Fili grimaced and nodded.

The Baggins-man didn't seem to take offense, though. "Well, both of my parents had their fair share of suitors - mother was quite the beauty and father held quite a bit of political influence locally. The way my father told it, he overheard my mother laugh one fine spring day - didn't see her, just happened to pass by at the right time to hear it - and he was helpless to see any other lass ever after. My mother told it a bit differently. She insisted that she first noticed him when she caught him eavesdropping on her when she was picnicking with her cousins. She said that she knew he was a keeper, though, when she realized that he never tried to stop her from leaving on yet another of her adventures."

Fili frowned momentarily. The man kept using past tense when speaking about his parents... and he hadn't mentioned them at all before mum asked. Had they died already, then?

Soft laughter came from the laptop, mixing with the Baggins-man's chuckles. "It must've been quite the scandal, then, for two families so different to join together?"

The man's eyes were on his hands, now, which were currently resting in his lap, but he nodded. "Oh, yes. Partially my doing, though." His eyes sparkled and the smile he wore was somewhere between proud and self-depreciating. "The wedding was a small affair, but the reception was one of the biggest ever held in Hobbiton. And then I arrived, not three months later." He let out a soft bark of laughter. "The Tooks didn't pay any mind, as my parents were properly in love and had managed to get through the ceremony before I showed up, but the Baggins' were quite offended. In fact, I'm not sure they've forgiven me for it yet!"

"Oh my!" It was good to hear so much happiness in Mum's voice. It was also nice to find out a bit more about their host.

Fili went to scoop a bit more of the batter from the bowl and frowned when wasn't able to. A quick glance down confirmed he'd cleaned the bowl out. He let out a soft huff of disappointment, echoed by Kili, who was still sucking at the wooden spoon, although Fili imagined it had long since been cleaned of any taste as well.

"Is your family quite large, then? I've heard tell that Shirelings like to grow their families as large as they grow their gardens."

The Baggins-man shifted a bit, his eyes glancing away from the screen momentarily. "Ah, I'm afraid not. I was the first, last and only child my parents were blessed with. I did have my mother's assurances, though, that I was more than enough mischief to make up for it." His grin grew brighter for a moment, though his eyes looked at something in the distance. He cleared his throat. "What of you, though? The boys speak of you and their uncles often - you must come from quite the large family, yourself."

The change in topic was a bit abrupt, but mum knew when to avoid a tender subject. "Oh, well, I suppose it's all in how you count them," she managed to sound pleased and exasperated at once. "I have one brother by blood, who is off in Bree, last I was informed, and nine others by choice - two of which should be in Hobbiton."

The Baggins-man nodded. "Balin and Dwalin? The lads mentioned they'd found jobs in the city proper - Balin as some sort of legal assistant and Dwalin as a... body-guard, I think?" The man frowned and looked off the side, forcing both boys to duck out of sight.

"Well, I'm glad they're keeping someone informed of the family's goings-on," Mum's reply was tart.

The Baggins-man laughed, a quiet, huffing sound. "I'm sorry that they've worried you. I should've thought to have them call you sooner."

"Oh, it's no fault of yours, Mister Baggins. You've been more than generous already," there was a pause in her voice, one that almost sounded hesitant. "In fact, I'm not sure I can thank you enough for how caring you've been to my boys. Really and truly."

Fili, using all the caution and stealth that Nori had ever drilled into him, peered back around the corner. The Baggins-man was wearing a bit of a blush now, but his smile was warm and gentle. "It's been no trouble, I promise. They're good boys, both of them - hard working and obedient, when they've a mind to be."

Mum's laughter rang out again – startled out of her, by the sound of it. "'When they've a mind to be' - isn't that the truth? Tell me, how did my two rapscallions manage charm their way into your home?"

"Well, they did me quite the favor, actually," and the glint that the Baggins-man wore in his eyes was more sly than Fili had ever seen, even in Kili on his most impish days. Their host proceeded to share the tale of their meeting - he had suspected a long-held rivalry, but had no idea that the hatred shared between their host and the Sackville-woman ran so very deep - which brought mum to a fit of laughter and giggles. "And so," he finished, "as a reward for providing me with such a fine opportunity to publicly embarrass the cow, I fed them a proper lunch and told them that I had beds aplenty for sleeping in and more than enough food to share with anyone who could make themselves useful."

"Well, I'm glad that they've been making themselves useful, then." The sounds of mirth lingered in mum's voice.

"Oh yes, I should think so." The Baggins-man nodded and there was silence between the two of them that stretched on for a moment or two, but it didn't seem strained. "I suppose I should check on the scones - if any of the batter managed to make it into the oven that is."

"Don't hold your breath," mum answered. "I used to have to make a double batch of dough if I wanted half a batch to make it out of the oven."

The Baggins-man answered with a sharp, but still playful smile. "Oh, not in this house - the boys know well enough to keep their fingers to themselves here."

Mother laughed again. "Well then, you'll have to share your secrets with me, Mister Baggins, for you've managed to do what eleven others could not." Another pause. "Well met, Mister Baggins, it's been a pleasure speaking with you."

"And the same to you. I'll send the boys back in, if you don't mind. I'd like to at least let the scones cool a bit before they're inhaled and I don't imagine it'd be too much of a hardship for them to visit with you a while longer. Oh, and please, call me Bilbo, Miss... I'm sorry, I'm afraid I haven't caught your name."

"Dis. Just Dis." Mum's voice was softer than it had been before. "And again, thank you."

"No trouble, I promise," the Baggins-man murmured and then he was rising from his chair and moving toward the kitchen.

In a desperate burst of speed and dexterity, the two boys managed to put themselves at the sink before their host made it to the archway, but, by the look on his face, he was well aware that they'd been listening in.

"Go on," the Baggins-man grinned at them. "I think it'd ease your mother's heart if you spoke with her more."

Kili was gone in a flash, but Fili hesitated a moment and met the man's gaze. This man… Did he understand how much this meant to them? How grateful the three of them were for all the little kindnesses he kept offering and especially of how he kept acting as if each one were no big thing? The Baggins-man held Fili's gaze, though, and, after a moment or two, a lopsided smile grew.

Fili nodded. Maybe the Baggins-man did understand, then - a little at least.

Dis' eldest son moved into the dining room, then, eager to join his mother and brother in conversation again.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"You said it was where?"

Master Boggins still had his eyes fixed to a book of his own and it was a moment before he looked up. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"The book? On coding? For computers? That you said Fili and I could look at?"

Master Boggins blinked, slight confusion clouding his eyes for a moment before they cleared. "Oh! Yes, of course. If it's not on the bookshelf next to the globe, then it should be on top of my desk - I might have been using it to tinker with some of the programs on the desk top unit."

"Ah, right, then." Kili nodded, offered him a grin for the information, and made his way back to the study.

Fili was still going through one of the bookshelves - one the younger of the pair had gone through twice already - but glanced over when Kili entered the room. He paused in his search and raised both eyebrows. Kili nodded to the appropriate bookshelf and then to the desk. Fili nodded and moved to the bookcase in question. Kili shrugged and made his way to the desk.

He cringed when he saw the stacks and stacks of paper that populated the surface of the desk. If there was a book here, there'd be plenty of places for it to hide. He allowed himself a bit of a huff and got to work, carefully sorting through the piles so that he didn't disturb their order, while being as thorough as he could. It wasn't but maybe five minutes later that he caught sight of something he never would've expected to find on quiet Master Boggins' desk.

"Psst."

Fili looked over right away and, with a jerk of Kili's head, made his way to the desk just as fast.

Carefully, Kili moved a handful of papers onto the desk's chair, and tapped the ones that lay beneath. Fili answered with a sudden stillness.

Resting beneath Kili's fingertips were a handful of blueprints and no small number of notes focusing on how to access and best use energy sources. One particular energy source was mentioned more often than any the others: Mahal.

Kili looked up and met Fili's gaze, wondering if his brother's eyes were as big as his own.

Since they were wee younglings, the two boys had been told stories of their True Home. District Erebor had once been a proud, thriving district. It was rich in knowledge and in culture and people would come from as far away as District Lindon just to lay eyes on its library. Information of almost any sort could be found there, but the district's greatest treasure lay deep within the heart of the mountain.

A clean, seemingly-unending source of energy lay waiting beneath Erebor's lone mountain, and some claims estimated it would've been enough to power every district in Middle-Earth. Those who found the treasure called it by the name of an ancient god from times long passed: Mahal. Nearly a third of the district's population, as well as numerous others across Middle-Earth, spent uncounted hours laboring toward a way to harness and wield the energy source and many of Erebor's neighbors had invested time and money in the effort to make tapping into it a viability.

No bird may fly, though, without jealous eyes watching from below.

The newfound wealth and power had attracted the attention of those with more selfish intentions, and while District Erebor was confident in its defensive strength, it was not ready for the machinations of Smaug and his private army. Smaug had just enough allies in just the right places that, in a single night, his legion of sell-swords had brought the mighty district to its knees. With a third of its people slaughtered and another third cowering in their homes, the remains of Erebor's population scattered to the winds.

No proper burial was allowed for those citizens who had lost their lives that night - not that anyone outside of the district had heard tell of. No aide came to those trapped behind walls that used to defend them - not from any people, not from any district. The little mercies gifted to the refugees from districts that had claimed to be allies were not enough to keep the weakest of them from perishing in the harsh winter that followed their exile.

Mahal was a word, a name, which the two boys knew quite well. It was lesson and a warning folded into one story. Your enemy will not allow you time to prepare for his strike, it taught. Your allies will not heed your call when your hour is most desperate, it promised.

The locals they'd encountered on their travels each seemed to have a different spin on the story, but all boiled down to the same thing: The people of District Erebor had reached too high, and in doing so they brought their fall upon themselves.

It made Kili burn with a rage he didn't understand to hear strangers speak of their home – of their tragedy – so casually and callously, and he knew that Fili felt the same because the people that spoke so were the same ones the two took everything from when they searched for proper marks in the streets.

But what did Master Boggins have to do with any of that?

He frowned and chewed at his lower lip, glancing from the papers to his older brother and back.

Kili was moving away from the desk before Fili could motion him away, and crossed the room, instead, to keep lookout by the door - Master Boggins could step lightly when he wanted to, inconveniently so, at times.

He disguised his efforts by pretending to sort through a small collection of notebooks and loose papers that was on what could've been a side table. He felt horrible for invading Master Boggins' privacy, of course, but anything related to Mahal was dangerous, a poison to be evaluated and tolerated only if it was for the better good. The fact that their host had some sort of tie to the horrid thing was...

Kili shook his head. He wouldn't worry himself with what it might mean, just like he wouldn't allow himself to think that kind Master Boggins meant them any harm by knowing about it. Master Boggins was a good man, the only one Kili knew of that existed outside his family - and Kili would continue to believe this until Fili told him otherwise. It made his chest ache to do anything else.

Soft footsteps approached from behind him. A glance back showed that their host's desk had been returned to its natural state and that Fili held the book they'd been seeking in the first place. His older brother's eyes were tight and his brows raised a touch, but the corner of his mouth curled upward into a bit of a smile. He stepped out of the room and Kili followed.

Fili went back to the den, but only lingered long enough to let Master Boggins know that they were going outside to read. The man seemed pleased with this and cautioned them to avoid too much time sitting out in the sun - he was always fussing, it wasn't as if they hadn't endured worse than sunburns before - to which Fili promised that they'd take care to sit in the shade.

Fili turned back to face him and, at first, Kili didn't understand the touch of sadness that flickered across his brother's eyes, but then he felt his cheeks begin to ache and realized he was smiling again. Mum didn't like that particular smile - it made her look so pained and defeated - even though she always told him he was so brave when he wore it. Fili didn't like it, either.

Kili forced his face to relax and Fili gifted him with another smile, tugging on a stray lock of the younger brother's hair as he passed. The older brother led them through the back door and over the low wooden fence that separated Master Boggins' back yard from the community gardens. The two of them had discovered a hidden nook, far from the prying eyes of any tourists who might wander by and even farther from the harsh gaze of any locals in the area, as they rarely seemed to take the time to enjoy the gardens they lived so close to.

The boys tucked themselves away and sat across from each other, knees touching. Kili didn't bother to hide his shifting and fidgeting, ready to burst with wanting to hear of what his brother had found.

"Old research. Some new ideas, but nothing dangerous. Nothing bad."

They lapsed into silence again and Fili huffed before pulling Kili over, not stopping until the younger brother was sitting with his back to the older. Fili's hands were in Kili's hair in less than a moment, braiding the wild mess of curls into order before undoing his work and starting again. It was a nervous habit, but the motions of it soothed the both of them and Kili found it easier to keep his worried-grin from returning.

"Have to tell Thorin." Fili spoke again, barely a murmur.

Kili tensed and didn't stop himself from making a low, worried sound in his throat.

He felt a bit of motion behind him that meant Fili was nodding. "We'll wait. It's his turn next, anyway."

Kili huffed, but felt the tension drain from him all the same. Thorin was fierce, in many senses of the word, but he had a tendency to gather as much information as he could before acting - with things related to Mahal and their True Home, at least. If they waited until he took over their care, it would be easier – and safer – to tell him about what they had found. It would also give them the opportunity to stress to their mother's brother how generous Master Boggins had been and how harmless he surely was, even if he did know of the thrice-damned ball of energy.

It was the best they could do, anyway.

Kili shifted, trying to settle into a more comfortable position. Fili rewarded his fidgeting with a not-so-gentle tug at his hair and he groused softly. He felt behind him, blindly, and managed to grab the book they'd loaned from Master Boggins from Fili's lap, and while his brother's fingers went back to their soothing motions, he read aloud, softly, about the language of computers.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"And do you have everything packed?"

"Yes, Master Boggins." It was the tone, more than the title, that startled the Baggins-man into looking up at the pair of them and, though he huffed, it was a gentle smile that he fought to hide. "Same as the last dozen times you've asked us." Kili's smile was wide as he spoke - too wide for comfort – and his voice was showing strain.

Fili twitched to run his hands through his little brother's hair, but settled for running them through his own, instead. They were leaving soon - as soon as Balin and Dwalin arrived in fact. They had new, sturdy rucksacks, as well as a whole collection of new clothing, thanks to the kindness of their host - good quality, he shouldn't have spent so much - and the Baggins-man was boxing a second batch of his mouthwatering scones even as the three of them conversed. The man was distressed – it made his chest ache, made Kili hurt as well - but there was nothing for it. They had to go.

"Well, I know how absent-minded the two of you can get when you've the will to be." The Baggins-man finished tying a simple knot in the string that bound the two boxes together and rested his hand atop the package for a moment. "Now, you must promise me that you'll let me know when you're back in the district. Even if you're not able to stay for any sort of visit, I can at least bring you a nice picnic and maybe, if you give a fellow enough warning, another box or two of scones."

This had Kili's smile relaxing into its proper shape. "Oh, you'd best make it at least two - they seem to disappear nearly as fast as you plate them and I'm not entirely certain the boxes will be good enough protection against them evaporating into the ether."

"Into the ether?" The Baggins-man gave Kili a sharp, incredulous look, before looking to Fili as if to see if he'd heard correctly. "Into the ether?!" He gave a snort and chuckled to himself. "Yes, my scones have been 'evaporating into the ether' quite frequently of late, haven't they? Those and the rest of my pantry." He shot a sly grin at Kili.

Kili puffed up, as if he'd received some sort of complement. "Well, the pantry's a different matter entirely. Obviously, some of the food in there was in danger of spoiling. It was our duty as gracious guests to help you finish it off before it turned."

The Baggins-man nodded before casting a shrewd look at Fili's younger brother. "The whole lot of it?"

Kili shrugged. "Well, couldn't risk someone putting down the wrong expiration date on any of them, could we?"

The Baggins-man let out a bark of laughter. "Is that so? I suppose I have much to thank you for, then." He moved to begin putting the dishes away - those that had dried while the pastries were baking - but Fili beat him to it. Fili gave his host - still his host, for another few moments, at least - a cheeky grin and began to return the cutlery and crockery to their places. The Baggins-man just nodded and held up his hands in defeat.

Fili made short work of the chore, tossing bits and pieces to Kili when the younger of the brothers was closer to the appropriate cabinet. The Baggins-man fussed and scolded, but the brothers were sure not to let any piece drop and there was no heat to the man's words. Fili stopped, though, when he came to the final piece. The tool was nothing more than a wooden spoon - oak, hand carved, well worn - but the very sight of it in the hands of the Baggins-man was enough to make poor Kili sweat... and perhaps Fili, as well. After they left, though... Fili could admit to himself that he, at least, might miss the wretched thing a bit.

Instead of voicing this, though, he gave a sly glance at the Baggins-man and then caught his brother's eye. "At least your hands will be spared another scolding from the Assistant."

Kili's eyes widened and he nodded solemnly before the Baggins-man laughed again. "Oh, I wouldn't hold your breath. Your mother's been trying to pull that scone recipe out of me for the past month," - Kili's eyes widened even more and Fili swore that his heart stopped for a moment - "and while I haven't given it to her yet, I have promised her that if I do, I'll send her a fine, Shire-crafted mixing spoon to stir them with."

Kili made a choked, scandalized noise and his face was caught somewhere between want and betrayal as he looked from Fili to the Baggins-man and back, struggling to find the falseness in the Baggins-man's words.

A noise came from the front door before Kili found any reassurances, though - three booming sounds, as if someone were trying to knock the door down with fists alone - Dwalin's knock, better not have chipped the paint.

The Baggins-man startled at the sound and the merriment drained out of the room. "Well, I suppose I should see who that is, then." The tightness was back in their host's eyes and shoulders. Fili felt the ache in his chest return, as well.

As soon as their host had slipped out of sight, Fili gave a sharp motion of his head in one direction. He didn't wait to see Kili moving before he took the other. The pounding at the door had sounded like Dwalin's, but that was no guarantee that it was, and with as many different pathways through the house as there were - a brilliant defense strategy, Thorin would approve - it was a fairly simple matter to shadow the man up to the entryway.

Fili watched as the man looked through the peep-hole - had to stand on his toes to do it, it was a funny thing to watch - then frowned and smoothed out his vest, before reaching for the door - which was unlocked, again, the fool. The Baggins-man startled once the door was opened, but then Dwalin seemed to have that effect on locals.

The giant of a man filled up the doorway, shoulders nearly as broad as the frame and just tall enough that he wouldn't have to duck to keep his head from hitting. He was bald - by choice, of course, rather vain about shaving it smooth - and he was wearing his traveling jacket - black, leather, thick, wool lining - along with some denims and a set of working boots. If Dwalin was filling up the doorway, then Balin couldn't be too far behind. Fili'd have to remember to scold Dwalin later for deliberately scaring the Baggins-man, and Balin for letting him.

"I - I'm sorry, can I help you, sir?" The Baggins-man kept a firm hand on the door - should've worked with him more on security, on how to read others and take down the unwelcome - but his words were as polite as they'd ever been to strangers, despite the stutter.

Dwalin raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "'M here for the lads."

Whatever nervousness the Baggins-man had seemed to flutter away with these words, leaving a bit more steel in his expression. "I'm sorry, but who?"

Dwalin smirked - and how rare was it the big lout of a man to give out praise like that? - and nodded his head. "Fili and Kili," he kept his voice low. "Sons of Dis."

The Baggins man nodded and stepped back, opening the door wider. "Oh, of course. You would be Mister Dwalin, then? You're certainly large enough to match the description. Please, come in and I'll fetch them."

Dwalin shook his head. "No time." His eyes moved around the hall and Fili stilled rather than pulling back. The giant's eyes lingered on a door frame across the hall from where Fili hid and Fili found himself rolling his eyes at the idea that Kili was giving himself away so readily. "Need to get moving." Dwalin finished his thoughts at last.

"Oh, right then." A flash of pain passed over the Baggins-man's eyes and his lips pressed together momentarily. It only took a moment for the man to pull himself together, though, and he smiled, again, even if it was a bit forced. "Just a moment then." He nodded and turned to face the hallway, but before he could even open his mouth to call for them, Kili had flung himself from his hiding spot - the same damned doorway that Dwalin had spotted - with a burst of speed and an ecstatic cry.

"Dalin! Bwalin!" Kili flung himself at the giant, his pet names for their uncles falling easily from his mouth, and started talking a thousand miles a minute - describing their adventures and their host and their host's home and everything that they'd learned. Dwalin grunted with the impact of catching him, but didn't release him from the hug, and though he didn't smile, his eyes sparkled madly.

Fili took a more dignified approach and simply stepped out of the shadows. Dwalin's eyes went to him immediately, and he received a nod for his efforts. Fili watched his brother's antics a few moments longer - had the Baggins-man allowed Kili those extra sodas to spoil him while he still had the chance or to punish the ones who were taking them away? - then caught Dwalin's eye again and gave a jerk of his head toward the back of the house.

Our things, he signed.

Dwalin nodded.

Fili turned to look at the Baggins-man, offered him a soft smile, and raised both eyebrows.

The Baggins-man answered with a smile of his own. "Of course I'll help."

"At least I know where the two of you have gotten your 'talkative' natures from, then." The man quipped, once they were out of hearing.

Fili laughed and made his way to the den to grab their bags while the Baggins-man moved to the kitchen to fetch the scones. The two made their way back to the front door – he wanted to warn about keeping trinkets out where wandering hands could slip them away, but if his advice was heeded then the place wouldn't the Baggins-man's home – to see that Dwalin had dragged Kili from the doorway and down the path a little ways and that Balin was now standing in the doorway.

"I'm sorry for my brother's manners, he's never been one for unnecessary words." Balin offered the Baggins-man a warm smile and handshake – the man had a good sense of balance, the boxes didn't wobble once – before beaming at Fili. Fili watched as the wise man's eyes flickered over the new bags and saw the questions that would be asked after the lot of them left. "Do you need help with that, lad?"

Fili shook his head. "Nah, I've got it."

He watched as the Baggins-man passed over the two boxes of treasured food to Balin, with explicit instructions to not allow the boys to eat them all themselves, and certainly not in one sitting, as well as with the advice that they made for good bribes. Fili made an insulted sound, but it was done in jest.

Finished giving his directions, the Baggins-man turned back to Fili. "You be careful, now, the both of you." The older of Dis' sons gave the man an indulgent smile and the Baggins-man huffed and shook his head. "I know that you take care of each other, but I'll worry myself over you scoundrels."

Fili nodded and tried to look contrite. "You shouldn't. It's not like any of them will let us out of their sights for long."

The Baggins-man raised a single eyebrow in dispute. "You mean like in the markets." Fili had the grace to blush, but not enough to stop his grin. "Just, remember to eat and be careful of ..." here the man glanced at Balin momentarily. "Be careful of where you practice your hobbies, yes?" He paused again and looked away a moment. When his gaze returned to Fili's again, his eyes were suspiciously bright. "And if you have need for something - anything at all, either of you - you send word and I'll find a way for it to reach you, okay?"

Fili felt his throat tighten dangerously, so he nodded rather than risk speaking and, on an impulse, stepped forward to hug the man who had been so kind to his brother and him. The Baggins-man tensed a moment in surprise, but returned the embrace. The pair of them were nearly knocked to the ground another moment later, though, and Fili knew that his younger brother's arms were wrapped around them both.

"Don't fret, Master Boggins, we'll write!" Kili's voice was bright and full of laughter and promise. "And we'll vid-call you so much you'll beg us to leave off!"

"You'd better," the Baggins-man's smile was watery, but still present as the three of them disentangled. "I'll hold you to that, the both of you."

Fili only nodded again, unable to say anything else. He caught Balin's eyes again and if the older man had been showing hints of curiosity before, he was nearly overflowing with it now.

The Baggins-man took a deep breath and nodded. "Well, off with you, then. I'd hate to make the lot of you late for anything. Wouldn't be proper."

Fili nodded and nudged Kili over toward the bags. He clapped the Baggins-man on the shoulder once more before picking up his own and moving to where Dwalin stood closer to the street, waiting for them. He didn't have the heart to tell his host - former, now - that vid-calls were difficult to make when they were always on the move. He didn't tell him that sometimes money was too tight to afford eating three times a day and that their hobby wasn't really so much of a hobby as it was a necessity. He didn't say any of that, but when he glanced back to the Baggins-man's eyes, he thought the man knew anyway.

Balin finished whatever formalities it was that people fond of words – they should've had Balin over sooner, the two would've talked the sun down and back up again – engaged in while he tossed his bags - carefully, didn't want to scuff their new things so soon - into the trunk of the vehicle. It took a moment to realize that Kili was no longer talking a thousand words a minute and the strangeness was enough to tear Fili's gaze from watching the Baggins-man closing his front door - and didn't that make his chest twinge something fierce - to where his younger brother was standing, almost unnaturally still.

He brushed their elbows together and raised an eyebrow. Kili turned to him, grinning like a madman - and didn't that promise something fun? - and glanced to where Dwalin and Balin were conversing quietly, then to the tires of the vehicle, and then to the Lobelia-woman's home across the way. The Lobelia-woman was standing in the front window of her home, scowling as if the four of them had gone stomping through her precious gardens...

Fili's eyes widened and he turned to Kili, only to find him nodding. Fili let his head fall back and laughter poured out of him. Kili joined him and Fili felt some of the ache in his chest lighten.

"Come on, old men," he called. "Let's get going, then!" He waited until the two men came closer and dropped his voice a touch before continuing. "Just one more thing before we leave, though. Do you see that garden, just across the street?"