"What is this?" Fili asked, his voice nearly a purr as he spoke around his mouthful of food.

Legolas grinned with delight. "Camp Imladris gets their food supplies from the States. No rationing."

Beorn Carrock looked up sleepy-eyed, having already eaten half of his grilled cheeseburger. "You still have rationing in Britain?" His accent made it clear that his command of the Queen's English was studied, not native.

Fili shook his head, his mouth too full this time for speaking. Legolas grinned. "Sugar rations were the last, and they ended last year for us. I was six when the war ended, I don't remember a time without ration books or shortages."

"For some of us, I doubt you ever lacked for anything." A dark voice from a dark-eyed youth with buzzed hair, also with a European accent. He shot an unfriendly look at Legolas.

Fili saw Beorn frown at the tone of the speaker, but he himself said nothing. The Ereborean prince had been surprised when he'd been introduced to Legolas' friend and their new cabin mate. The teen was huge, taller than both Uncle Thorin and all the other warriors at home. He was tall and muscled, as if he worked like a laborer every day, in the sun. Yet he was also soft spoken and while he ate with neat manners, it almost seemed like he wasn't used to getting enough to eat. His eyes had lit up at the meal when they'd gone through the line. Fili pushed the thought aside, it had probably just been a long trip for him. He wondered where Beorn called home.

Beside the taller teen, Legolas stiffened but didn't comment on the insinuation, reminding Fili about the rumors that his Uncle Thorin kept going on about. How Thranduil never seemed to go without, hinting at black market connections. Then again. His uncle wasn't without his own connections, even though he'd taken a more active war effort than the British peer had it seemed.

Fili swallowed and shrugged. "War's over." He said blandly. "And I have my very first cheeseburger and you are not going to ruin it for me. What's it called if you don't add cheese?"

"A hamburger."

Fili glanced over at the next table and at the youth they were calling Hollywood now. Stupid affectation. Honor names were given following battle or great feats. Like his Uncle Thorin being called Oakenshield. Earned. Not a name after a city you were from.

The irritating brunet grinned and shook his head at them. "Could get better at home. A lot better."

Fili stiffened. It rubbed him the wrong way that the mystery kid was looking down on food that he himself thought was near ambrosia. "Meat's a premium in Britian. Even ham." He said coldly.

"Not actually ham." Hollywood laughed, ignoring the blond's near scowl. "Just called that. Beef. Ground beef. Hardly anything premium."

Fili nearly bit his tongue in half to keep from escalating things. First day of camp and all.

Skeet, the orphan from Erebor looked a bit embarrassed and rushed to fill the void. "Sorry. We summer a lot in Montana. Ranches. If the steak isn't bigger than the plate it's not considered a meal."

Fili and Legolas blinked, staring. Even Beorn looked up at that one. Ori suddenly realized he may have just made matters worse. "Sorry." He muttered, looking down at his plate.

The buzz-cut from down the table snorted and shook his head. "My father has a title reaching back centuries, but the land was set back ages by bombing. Just now starting to make the yields needed to be self-sufficient."

Hollywood gave them all blank looks. "Hamburgers are new to you? No joking? Didn't mean to rattle your cage." He half-way apologized.

Most of the teenagers around them nodded, though a few had obviously partaken before. One blond teen had his hair cut so short his scalp gleamed pink beneath it spoke up. "Ate this in New Hampshire last summer, visiting relatives. But it's in London now too. Place called a Wimpy Bar. Got to go with my cousin about a month ago. Milkshakes served there too. Starting to get real popular at home."

"I've heard." Legolas stressed the second word, insinuating that he himself had never been and was jealous. "We don't eat out much." He grumbled half jokingly.

From what Fili had heard about Thranduil, the man didn't go out much at all. Kept to himself for the most part and socialized only at the higher levels.

"Hollywood?" Beorn called out in a voice far more gentle than what looked like should be coming out of his larger frame. "If you're not going to eat those chips, would you please pass them this way?"

The dark-haired youth looked confused as he frowned down at his plate. "Don't have chips."

Legolas smirked, some of his good humor returning. "He means these." He held up a french fry before popping it in his mouth. "Chips."

Laughing good naturedly, Hollywood passed over the remainder of his plate. "French fries."

"Never had those in France. Ever." Sneered another youth from another table with a clear aristocratic accent, getting some laughs. "Idiot."

Fili's eyes narrowed, but the taunt ended there and the moment passed. He did briefly wonder why he'd gotten a bit miffed when someone had teased Hollywood. It's not as if he even liked the fellow, not one bit. Ranches and steaks bigger than plates. Bet the kid had never lived through an aerial raid either. He opened his mouth to ask just what Hollywood's father had done during the war, but wisdom kept his tongue still.

Ask Hollywood, and everyone would have to answer. And some of these blokes had more than likely lost their fathers or other relatives. Or maybe they weren't so proud of their dads. If they still had one. Skeet was an orphan, he remembered. Probably not the only one here. No. This wasn't the place to be asking a question like that.

Beorn lifted his head, pinning the ruder teen with a look that made the youth look away first. "He's willing to share, and if he wants to call them French, then that's fine." The large teen took a bite out of the fry and smiled grimly. "Better than fine, it's delicious."

Fili grinned and shook his head as the other teens looked away and went back to minding their own business. He and Hollywood shared an amused glance, as if thinking the same thing. When they realized they were looking at each other, both paused and glanced away quickly.

"Little brother!" The voice boomed over their table.

Already quiet throughout dinner, young Faramir looked up with wide eyes. He smiled gamely, if with a bit of trepidation.

Boromir beamed a welcoming grin across the table at all the campers while clapping a fond hand on his brother's shoulder. "Any thoughts on work assignments? Headmaster Gandalf would like three groups to start out with." He clapped his hands together in anticipation. "Who volunteers?"

Fili blinked a few times then shot a confused glance at Legolas. At the next table there were general groans and comments about how campers shouldn't be forced into labor. Immediately Fili's brow furrowed. Work wasn't a pejorative word, not to anyone from Erebor. Princes included. More specifically, princes especially. He started to volunteer, but was interrupted.

"Me, Skeet and Faramir." Hollywood called out in a calm voice. "First group." He gave a lofty look at the other tables. "Who's afraid of a little effort?"

Fili stiffened, had the young brunet looked in his direction? Oh that wouldn't work at all. His blue eyes lit with energy and temper as he glanced at Legolas and Beorn. The blond practitioner leaned in to whisper. "Sometimes good, sometimes bad."

"Take a chance." Beorn nodded.

Fili's hand shot up. "Second group."

Eomer, who'd walked in right beside the male from Gondor grinned. "Restoring the football pitch after the last storm." He pointed at Hollywood's group. "Garden assistance." He pointed at Fili and his friends. Then he frowned and looked around. "No one wants to assist the lovely Sigrid and her brother with dock repair?" He asked leadingly.

Immediately well over three-fourths of the group shot their hands in the air, arguing on who would help with what. Finally a bully of a New Yorker stood with his two equally rich and strong-looking mates. "Ours." He made a fist and jerked his thumb toward his chest.

Fili groaned as Legolas dropped his head, shaking it. Such a missed opportunity.

"Now, now." A friendly voice interrupted the protests as the headmaster himself made an appearance. Gandalf beamed pleasantly at the entire group. "Splendid! I love volunteers." He peered at the names that Eomer had been writing on his clipboard.

"Have fun on the football pitch." Sneered the New Yorker while his mates laughed in agreement. "Sure you don't want to switch?" He teased Hollywood and the others.

Gandalf looked up as if only half-way paying attention. He smiled benignly. "Well of course you can switch, not a problem." The headmaster pointed at the names as he gave his instructions to Eomer. "Tell K …er, Hollywood, Faramir and Skeet that they'll report to Sigrid and Bard in the morning right after breakfast. Mr. Johnson here and his friends can certainly help clean up the football pitch. Splendid, splendid. I do love a good volunteer!"

"We don't mind working on the dock." Fili offered quickly with a helpful look.

"Oh, you don't have to give up your gardening." Hollywood smiled at the blond prince. "Didn't you say you loved the outdoors?"

"It's all outdoors!" Legolas protested.

"Good, good. All settled! That's fine." Gandalf seemed pleased at least. "So glad that I can help my campers. With your love of football, this will be a labor of fun." He told the scowling New York teen.

Laughter and general joshing met those remarks as the usually privileged and over-indulged scions of very wealthy families lost their grins. "But sir!"

"You can thank me later." Absently Gandalf patted the upset teen on the shoulder as he made an exit that looked unhurried, but he was still gone before anyone could react.

"Report to Sigrid, you'll be helping her." Boromir's grin widened as he winked at his younger brother with delight. All eyes turned on the trio with envy.

Fili's jaw shut with an audible click as his eyes narrowed on Hollywood and his friends. A day with the lovely and out-of-reach Sigrid? That could have been him! "Unfair." He muttered under his breath as he eyed the younger brunet teen. "I could learn to hate him."

Legolas, feeling his own jealousy, nodded in agreement.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Steaks bigger than plates, getting to work hand in glove with Sigrid, it's not fair!" Legolas paced in the middle of their cabin while the prince from Erebor whittled down a hunk of wood to nearly nothing.

Beorn walked into their shared living area from the showers, a beach towel wrapped around his waist and flip-flops on his feet. Fili frowned when he saw the taller teen, but couldn't pin-point why, not at first.

Legolas slid into a seat on his trunk, next to the bunk he'd claimed as his own. "Hot water back on yet?"

"No." Beorn rumbled. "It's cold, but I'm clean."

Fili looked up dispiritedly. "That kid. Hollywood." He sneered as he said the name. "Too full of himself."

The tallest of the three shrugged with one shoulder, grabbing a t-shirt to pull on over his chest. "Kid didn't make them give the dock assignment to him, that was the headmaster."

"You just like him because he shared his food." Legolas sighed.

Fili's hands stilled as he whittled, hefting the slight weight of the blade in his palm. Food. Earlier he'd thought that Beorn had just been the victim of a long flight and being hungry. He sneaked a glance from the corner of his eyes. For someone with such a large frame, the tall foreign teen was decidedly underweight. And had there been a bruise along his rib cage?

"Yo, Carrok."

Beorn looked over at Fili in quiet question, waiting.

"Where are you from?"

Legolas stirred uneasily and gave a slight shake to his head.

"Nowhere." The foreign sounding teen replied quietly. He looked around and picked up his pants, heading back into the bathroom to finish getting dressed for bed.

The blond practitioner leaned in toward Fili as the other boy left the room. "Don't."

"Everyone is from somewhere." Fili replied, a bit stung at being warned off even such a simple question.

Legolas moved to sit right next to the prince from Erebor. "Beorn's from the north end of the Anduin valley. Ford of Carrock."

Fili stared in confusion for half a second, then his blue eyes went wide with shock.

"Yeah. THAT place. Nearly wiped off the map during the war." Legolas nodded grimly. "He's a Carrock of those Carrocks. The last of them basically. Very few left, and he's the heir."

The prince's eyes filled with remorse and sympathy. Erebor had been taken over and its people scattered. Those from the Ford of Carrock? Destroyed. "What's he doing here at camp then?"

"His guardian sends him every summer. Mr. Azog from …"

"Khazad-dum." Fili supplied the name with grim hatred. "That's Beorn's guardian?" His eyes lit with temper and betrayal.

"I'm not going to chrome-plate anything." Legolas tried for soothing. "Azog isn't exactly a great guardian." He cocked his head leadingly toward the bathroom where the taller teen had disappeared.

The prince's eyes narrowed dangerously. "What do you mean?"

"You didn't see the bruises?" Legolas' voice showed his disbelief as Fili sighed and nodded. "Beorn turns eighteen in three weeks. Supposed to go to court and take over his own affairs then."

Fili grunted with satisfaction, but still looked suspicious. "So why don't you sound happier?"

Legolas sighed. "Azog is bad news. Real bad. My father doesn't trust him at all, won't do business with him and my father will do business with nearly anyone."

"Those of Erebor despise Azog. Khazad-dum was once a sister nation with us. Our relatives." Fili sighed and shook his head. "My great-grandfather tried to liberate it and lost his life there, back during the war. Then Azog claimed he'd been one of the axis powers under duress and threat. Pulled some diplomatic coup and didn't even face war crime charges. It's a disgrace." He swallowed bitterly. "My uncle Thorin claimed he'd bought his freedom with information as well as money. Betrayed those he was allied with once he saw how the war was heading."

"Hah. Something your uncle and my father actually agree on." Legolas sniffed with caustic amusement. "Anyway, father feels Azog has been putting on the bit, an act really. That he'll find a way to keep the Carrock lands from leaving his control."

"What are you two talking about in here?" Beorn walked back out, yawning as he stretched lazily.

Was Fili imagining it, or was the tall youth's movements a bit guarded? Perhaps sore? "Uhm. We're talking about getting back at Hollywood and his cabin mates."

"Yep. In?" Legolas fell in line with the explanation.

Beorn shrugged. "What did you have in mind?"

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Two pairs." Faramir proudly proclaimed, laying down a hand with sevens and nines.

Kili groaned and tossed his cards into the center of the floor.

Ori grinned. "I have three of a kind." He put down his hand showing three twos.

Faramir frowned. "But my sevens and nines are higher than your twos."

"But I have three of them." Ori explained as he picked up the toothpicks they were using to bet with.

"But they're only twos." The youth from Gondor looked to Kili for assistance.

But the young brunet grinned and shook his head. "Three of a kind beats two pair. I had nothing. Busted straight."

Faramir shrugged and started to shuffle the cards again. "You know, a lot of people will be mad at us for tomorrow."

"So?" Kili shrugged as he laughed. "Why?"

"Lot of the campers want to meet up with Sigrid." Faramir explained. "She plays hard to get is what my brother says. Though she's a bit young for him."

Kili's dark eyes lit up. "Is that why that Fili guy was so hot and bothered? He's clutched?"

The boy from Gondor's eyes wrinkled in confusion.

Ori smiled and straightened up his pile of already neat toothpicks. "Clutched. American term for rejected. The girl rejected him?"

"Everyone." Faramir flushed. "Even my brother."

"Thought you said he wasn't interested." Kili teased, then stilled as a clanging sound started up right outside their cabin door. "What's that?"

The three boys ran out onto the wooden porch that stretched the length of their cabin, peering out through the heavy screen meant to keep out the bugs. Some bushes rustled somewhere to the left. Running and breathing noises on the right.

Kili snorted and pushed open the screen door, his two cabin mates right behind him. "Look. We don't scare easily. Don't make us go ape!" He yelled out into the darkness. Nothing and no one answered back. Even the bug noises didn't change as he stalked around looking for whomever was making the racket.

Faramir took the other side while Ori checked out the area in front of the cabin. No one had any luck. Finally they returned to the screened in porch.

Kili looked around into the darkness, seeing nothing. "Idiots." He muttered as they all headed back inside. They played some more poker and nothing more disrupted their evening of getting better acquainted with their new friend from Gondor.

Kili was actually the first one awake the next morning, but while he was digging through his trunks trying to find his favorite t-shirt, Ori beat him to the shower.

Faramir got his soap and towel together and was waiting his turn when there was a screech of shock. He and Kili shared a look and then started to rush for the bathroom door. Only it opened before they got there.

Ori stood there. Red. Red faced, splotchy red hair. He flicked red droplets off of him with disgust.

"What?" Faramir looked shocked.

Kili, once he realized it wasn't blood, started laughing.

"Kool-aid. In the shower head." Ori said with studied restraint and haughtiness. "What would be the odds you'd wager that this was accomplished while we were running around outside last night?"

Kili snickered, then sobered a bit, though he was still grinning. "I was thinking about switching work assignments with them, this Fili from Erebor. But it seems they want war instead. So be it."

Ori growled, still dripping wet. And red.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

A/N: Just please note, that this AU will not follow canon storylines. Bilbo will be a bit of a BAMF and some things and plots will need to change to suit modern (1955) times.