"IT-WAS-NOT-SUICIDE!"

Bifur signed frantically, grunting as he did, before dropping his arms tiredly at his sides.

"Brother," Bombur interjected delicately, "Pa was devastated. He barely spoke after Mama died…I'm hurting as much as you but~"

"He wouldn't have!" Bofur protested savagely, twisting his father's hat in his hands.

"He loved us and knew we still needed him!"

Bombur sighed and tapped Bifur's wriggling hands to stop them from signing at the de facto head of their dwindling family.

"He loved Mama," Bombur muttered, "I'm no…operative but still…even I could see how deep his grief was."

Bofur threw a hand up at Bombur; "Ye know I'd rather just…stop all o' this fer now. 'Sides…Nola is tryin' to rest."

"Aye," Said a voice from the front door, "Right now, we must be as calm and clear minded as ever before."

Bul, Thorin behind him, entered the living room slowly; removing his cloak and tossing it upon a nearby couch, he sighed as he slowly looked between the three dwarves before him.

"We…we have a situation."

Thorin cleared his throat; "Where's Nola?" He asked softly, "How is she?"

Bofur's eyes narrowed and he looked the taller dwarf up and down. "Leave 'er alone," He warned, "She needs to be alone fer now. She's too grief stricken to answer yer call fer…company."

His blue-grey eyes flaring, Thorin stepped forward and hissed: "That's not what I meant Bofur! I meant only to make sure she was…dealing with the situation as best as she could!"

"Her family can keep an eye on 'er without any help from you, my lord!" Bofur spat as Bombur and Bifur began to step between the two of them.

"Please!" Bul barked, clapping his hands several times until all three dwarves stared at him wide-eyed.

When he was certain they were willing to listen, the captain of Feyd sighed and held out his arm; with his hand clenched into a fist he explained: As I tried to say earlier, we've a situation. Bofur, yer right, Yer father didn't kill 'im self.

Bofur sniffed and nodded at Bombur and Bifur and the two of them exchanged nervous glances.

"Are you saying he was…that our father was murdered?" Bombur asked, "Who would do such a thing?"

Bofur cut him from a tree! Bifur pointed out in a short bark, Are you actually suggesting that someone staged it?

Bul smirked and twisting his fist, fingers up, he opened his hand slowly; "Aye," He replied, "And I know exactly who it was that had the nerve to do commit such an offense."

Bul slowly turned so that everyone could observe the small ornament in his large palm before he pocketed the evidence in his belt purse.

"What?" Bombur asked, "I don't get it."

Bul chucked and began to play with his braid casually; "Tha's why yer not an operative," He replied, ignoring the hurt expression upon the dwarf's chubby face.

"It might look like a simple braid bead lad, to you, but even Thorin recognizes the family symbol etched upon it."

Thorin hummed and nodded for a moment before saying: "I'm sorry…it seems the reason for your father's demise…is my entire fault."

Bul cleared his throat upon seeing the startled and confused expressions of those that stood waiting for further explanation.

"This bead only came from one dwarf given the sigil," He revealed, "The one we caught trying to pull a fast one on Thorin~"

"Staric?" Bofur asked in a tight voice, "Tha' idiot steward killed my father?"

Bul nodded slowly. "Well, possibly, really. Boheeka was one of the quickest and strongest dwarf's I've ever known; He was a coward when confronted and besides, Staric's a stringy fellow."

Before another word could be uttered, with a low growl, Bofur shoved past Bul and out of the door; ignoring protestations of those left behind.

Bofur made his way to their homes small, fenced in back yard and hurried to the decaying shed that rested in the farthest corner.

Ripping the padlock off with his bare hands and tossing it over his shoulder he stepped into the dark and ignored the strong stench of mold and dust that flooded his nostrils.

He spotted it almost instantly and took it by the handle before backing out of the shed slowly.

Bofur examined the mattock closely for any signs of ware and after being satisfied there were none, he began testing his ability to swing and move with its weight.

"So yer gonna avenge him?"

Without looking at the one whom stood watching him familiarize himself with his father's old tool, Bofur snapped: "What else is there to do? He killed me father! There's no tellin' what else he'll do!"

Bul cocked his head the side, arms behind his back, and said: "So, ye've the same suspicions as I then?"

Bofur, setting the mattock head down into the grass, studied the dwarf curiously. "I think," He replied, "He killed Dad because he's trying to get at Thorin again. If he killed Dad, then he'll go after anyone else whom stopped him the first time so when he makes another attempt on Thorin, no one can stop him."

"Very good," Bul offered, before the proud expression turned into one of dark seriousness.

"So then ye must see the reason for all o' us to be more cautious than ever before?" Bul asked as Bofur made a practice swing with his mattock, "Yer runnin' off to, obviously, bash the head of the steward in would be must unwise."

Bofur stopped and eyed the elder dwarf angrily before saying: "He killed our father! Are ye suggesting we do nothing?"

"O'course not!" Bul spat, then looked around to be sure no one had heard him raise his voice, "I'm suggestin' we wait is all. There's still much to found out; such as whom helped Staric kill your dad."

Bofur made to protest but, upon thinking through what Bul had just said, he nodded in agreement.

"Fine," He conceded, "So what do we do now?"

Bul, smiling as he did, gestured for Bofur to come with him.

"We start planning."

"Oy! Toymaker!"

Bofur barely managed to dodge the stone as it sailed over his head and crashed through a shop window.

"Stop that!" Bofur growled to face the one whom had thrown the stone, "Yer breaking windows ye fool!"

The dwarf, the son of a tailor, bounded forward and as Bofur's finger clasped the dagger at his belt, the other sneered and said: "What? Gonna kill one of your own kind?"

With that, the other dwarf revealed his own dagger.

Bofur snorted, his fingers tapping the hilt of his weapon, and with a smile replied: "Maybe, if ye insist on casting rocks me way and…shouting vulgarity at my sister like ye did the other day."

The other dwarf laughed heartily then, looking over his shoulder at his companions that had come to watch the exchange.

"What?" He asked again, "Everyone has seen her being escorted by Thorin, the great king of Erebor, I thought it more of a compliment than an insult to give her the title of whore."

The rage boiled over and Bofur pulled his dagger in a flash while the offensive dwarf did the same.

The crowd that had come cheered the dwarf that lunged and stabbed at Bofur whom easily dodged and countered each attack with swift movements that left some quietly impressed until there was a protesting cry heard above the wild crowd and a dwarf came into view just as he shoved his way into full view in front of the crowd.

"ENOUGH!" He bellowed, his red silk tunic partially unbuttoned and his long, black hair unbraided.

Bofur and the other dwarf ignored Bul's command and soon he found himself struggling between the two.

"Bofur!" He barked, "I said that-is-ENOUGH!"

Bofur dropped his blade and swung his fist; landing it squarely against the other dwarf's jaw before letting Bul pinned his arms at his sides.

"Ye damn fool!" Bul whispered, "I can't have ye thrown into the jail o'er some silly words!"

"They started it!" Bofur protested before Bul slapped him across the face, startling him into silence.

"Come on! I've an errand to run any ways!" Bul ordered as he tugged Bofur through the crowd that had gathered.

But Bofur and his leader had not gotten too far when they suddenly heard a rush of air, an odd thud, and blood curdling shriek; looking at each other momentarily, they both looked over their shoulders slowly.

The offensive dwarf stood with his mouth agape and his wide eyes were staring down at his foot; the dagger that had been thrown planted securely in his booted foot.

"What the…" Bul began but trailed off, his eyes a mixture of amazement and confusion, "Who…did any one see anythin'?"

His question went unanswered for a moment and as he and Bofur looked about both nervously and curiously, a voice suddenly answered:

"Please forgive me, but I saw that bloody child start to toss his own metal and uh, well, Bofur and I have been too close for me to just ignore an attempt on his own life."

Bofur gave a cry of joy as the figure, cloaked and hooded, pushed his way to him through the amazed crowd.

"Who in the hell is that?" Bul demanded, buttoning his shirt, "Bofur? You know this…this person?"

"Aye!" Bofur answered after giving the stranger a tight embrace; "Bul may I please introduce my good friend Nori. One of the brother's Ri."