Author's note: This is something of a filler chapter, so I'm really REALLY sorry if you guys were expecting more. But I really love Thorin's company and I felt like I needed a chapter dedicated to them. Don't worry though, Bilbo and Thorin's date is coming up.

Big brother Dori is always watching ;P

Also, the brackets around Bifur's words is when he speaks in Khuzdul. I don't know how to translate full sentences unfortunately xD

"You know you really didn't have to be so harsh on them," Ori says once Dwalin returns from his little bathroom excursion. He gets what sounds like a pained grunt in response and when he turns around he gasps at the large, obnoxious red spot overshadowing Dwalin's forehead. Not to mention the traces of dried blood on his nose.

"What happened?!" Ori wails.

Dwalin rolls his eyes as the younger man starts fussing about him. "My idiot cousin," is all he answers.

"That really doesn't say a lot you know." Ori gently presses his fingers to Dwalin's forehead, thankfully not noticing the faint blush staining Dwalin's cheeks. "Oh dear… I hope this doesn't bruise."

"It won't," Dwalin huffs out impatiently. He's very tempted to bat away the small hand from his face but decides to keep his hands to himself, balling them up into tight fists instead.

"I guess that's what you get for teasing your cousin," Ori chuckles softly, rubbing the spot in small, soothing little circles.

"I believe it's called karma Master Ori," Dwalin grunts. He tells himself he doesn't like the feeling of Ori's soft, padded fingers massaging his forehead. Really, he doesn't.

"So it is Master Dwalin," Ori returns in jest. All too soon he draws his hands away and stuffs them behind his back. He takes a small step away from the gym teacher and grins in that natural innocent way of his. Dwalin swears it's not normal for someone to be so.. so… untainted like that. Maybe that's what you get for having an overbearing brother who tries to shield you from the world.

"Are you also here to help out Bofur?"

"Huh?" Dwalin blurts out dumbly.

"Bofur," Ori repeats, blinking at Dwalin, "His students were doing some kind of English assignment involving watercolors. You know Bofur, always likes to be creative, and so naturally Dori had to come and teach Bofur's students the proper way to paint." He rolls his eyes and continues, "Dori said something about an art project gone extremely wrong, but he had a class to teach and I had a free period so I ended up stationed on clean up duty." He ends the rather lengthy explanation with a short grin and bobs up and down on his feet.

"Uh," Dwalin scratches his head. "No, I was just— Actually yeah," he reconsiders. "Yeah, yeah I did come to help out Bofur." He nods in a way that shows his supposed eagerness to help.

"Oh!" Ori claps his hands together and smiles. "That's wonderful! Well, you can start picking up those paintbrushes there!" He points to one of the desks near the back, then turns and starts picking up paintbrushes from the front row of desks. "Don't worry about washing them off just yet. I can do that later, for now just gather everything up and put them all in a pile," he rambles on without sparing a glance back at Dwalin to make sure he's actually working.

In truth, Dwalin's only here after finding the art room devoid of Ori's presence and Dori muttering sourly that he was with Bofur. So yes, his intentions aren't exactly the purest but if it's to see the young art teacher then that's fine too. And the fact that Ori's all the way towards the front while Dwalin's working his way through the back makes an excellent vantage point for his eyes to trail over Ori's skinny frame, taking in the way he walks with a skip to his step, his cropped brown hair and braids flopping about, humming some kind of nursery tune or Disney song, something so innocent. Maybe that's why Dori dislikes Dwalin so much. He sighs inaudibly to himself and picks up the rest of the brushes.

"Oh!" Ori blinks at Dwalin's finished pile. "That was quite fast."

Dwalin makes a noise which sounds like a grunt but could be mistaken for some animalistic-like noise too. Ori giggles at that and Dwalin blushes right down to his beard.

"H-Hurry up with your own pile," Dwalin mumbles, but there's no bite to his tone.

Ori giggles again and does a dorky salute. "Yes sir Master Dwalin!"

Kili's sulking, that much Fili is sure of. He hasn't stopped sulking either, even after the two of them got revenge on their uncle (Fili would still like to point out it was was all Kili's idea!).

Fili sighs and nudges his baby brother's shoulder. "Kee, if you keep doing that your face is gonna stay like that, and then you'll never have a chance with Miss Tauriel." Ironically this only makes Kili sulk even more.

"S' fine," Kili mumbles and hunches his shoulders. "She likes that stupid princeling anyways."

Fili really feels the urge to roll his eyes but manages to keep himself in check. "All they did was go for coffee. At school. I don't think that's evidence enough that she likes him."

"It could be." Kili hunches over until his chin is resting on the lunch table. "Why couldn't I have nice long hair?" He continues complaining. "Instead I get the scraggly brown hair. And it's not even the nice kind like Uncle and mum's!"

Now Fili really does roll his eyes. He does ruffle Kili's hair in sympathy though. Or pity, either one at this point. "I think you have very nice hair."

"But Fee, it's not like his."

"Remember, we're supposed to hate his father. If Uncle hears you praising Legolas like that he may just take you out of the inheritance. And for good this time."

"You know he says that but he doesn't actually do it," Kili says while tilting his face towards Fili.

"I don't think he has a choice until he gets married and doesn't need our pretty faces anymore."

"….."

"Kee?" Fili pokes his cheek, and when that doesn't illicit a response he uses two fingers instead.

"The princeling has a pretty face," he mumbles.

Fili groans and almost bangs his head against he table. Thankfully Nori saves him from such a fate when he pulls up a seat at their table, sighing, "Now now, what's all the fuss about?" He raises a carefully braided eyebrow at the two brothers.

Fili points to his brother and whispers conspiratorially, "He's having a mid-life crisis."

"Already? Doesn't that only happen when you reach your forties?" Nori plays along.

"You guys," Kili groans.

"Kidding, kidding." Nori raises his hands in defeat. "But what is the problem then? If not a mid-life crisis?"

"Let's just say it involves a certain redhead who teaches history and Sindarian." Fili says this while directing a quick glance at the aforementioned teacher just a few tables away, reading a book in the presence of Bifur. Which isn't weird or anything, considering they're the language teachers and often consult the other when in need of help. Just as Nori mentored Fili and Kili when they first started, Bifur was the one to help out Miss Tauriel. Even with Bifur's thick accent he was able to converse just fine with the teacher, and in turn Miss Tauriel helped him out with his English. It took a lot of convincing from Fili on that one, insisting that "No, she does not like Bifur I mean he's practically old enough to be her grandfather!"

"Aaahh," Nori nods sagely and crosses his arms. "Still haven't talked to the lass?"

"After that disaster? Absolutely not," Kili answers miserably, that disaster being his own uncle embarrassing him in front of the one person who, until now, always saw him as normal. As a result, he hasn't uttered one word to the history/language teacher. Not that he uttered a word to her to begin with anyways

"You know you could just, I don't know," Nori shrugs and pretends like he's thinking, "Talk to her."

Kili throws back his head and gives the most fake laugh, then transitions to an immediate deadpanned, "No."

"Oh come on! You won't know until you try!"

"If he ever does," Fili mutters under his breath.

Nori points an accusing finger at him. "Not helping."

"None of you are!" Kili wails a little too loudly, loud enough that it travels all the way to Miss Tauriel and Bifur's table. Bifur barely notices, but the sound forces Tauriel to break concentration from her book and squint around the cafeteria. She smirks when she sees Kili was the source of the noise, winks at him and returns to her book. This only causes Kili to be filled with even more mortification than before. He buries his head in his arms and whines.

"Was that supposed to mean something?" Nori whispers indiscreetly to Fili.

"I think she did that when he got called out by Uncle the other day," Fili whispers back.

Kili lets out another helpless whine.

"Don't give up just yet!" Nori claps Kili hard on the shoulder and ignores the stink eye sent his way. "You'll get your lass, just you wait."

"But don't wait forever."

"Fili."

Oin and Dori casually sip their tea in silence as they lounge about in the school infirmary. Even though Oin is very strict with his patients and making sure the state of his infirmary is in pristine shape, washing down every bit and surface and disinfecting each of his tools that it's enough to make Gloin groan out, "If you change that cot's sheets one more time I will have had several more grandchildren by now," there are times when one needs to use it for other needs. Such as drinking tea with a good friend and sharing in the peace and silence. It's only ever a temporary peace and silence though, especially when one works at a place like Erebor Academy with a rowdy faculty such as theirs.

However, it's actually Dori who breaks the silence when he suddenly scowls and says bitterly, "Dwalin keeps hitting on Ori." Oin at least has the decency not to spit out his tea in Dori's face. If it was coming from Fili or Kili or maybe even Nori, he wouldn't be too surprised, but he wasn't even aware Dori knew such a phrase. He swallows down the rest of the liquid with some difficulty and clears his throat.

"It's a little…" Dori taps his fingers against his cup until the word hits him. "Disconcerting." At Oin's inquisitive look he continues, "Not to say that it's bad, but it is worrisome. Trust me, I have never questioned Ori's sexuality, and Nori and I have tried to remain as supportive as possible. And yet…" He glances at Oin for confirmation to carry on, which he gives with a curt nod. "Dwalin might be too…" He taps his fingers again. "Aggressive."

"I think Dwalin is a fine lad," Oin begins carefully, for fear he may incur Dori's infamous wrath whenever it came to his youngest brother. "Ori seems to rather like him."

Dori frowns slightly and takes a sip as he considers this. He brings the cup back to its saucer and asks, "But is Dwalin really the right choice for Ori?"

"I think," Oin begins just as carefully as the first time (he'd really like to not lose Dori's steadfast companionship. They've made a nice little routine of this over the past few years), "That is something for Master Ori to decide."

He almost sighs in relief when the older brother doesn't bash his head in or destroy his infirmary, instead sighing and leaning back in his chair with a contemplative gaze. "Ori is no longer a child, is he?" Oin shakes his head, to which Dori sighs again. "I guess it is to be expected, we must all leave the nest sometime. Ori… yes, Ori, must make his own decisions for himself," he finally decides.

Oin chuckles at the worry still plaguing Dori's face. He gently pats the other man's shoulder. "Don't worry, it will all work itself out in the end."

"Yes. Yes, that is true, isn't it? Best not to over-worry," Dori nods resolutely. Oin's snort goes muffled inside his teacup because regardless of whatever reassurances he tells himself, Dori will always worry for his younger brother. Oin feels the same way about Gloin sometimes, so Dori's not really to blame for his mother hen-like nature.

They return to their previous silence and sip languidly at their tea, one of them a little less worried than before. The other maybe just a tad bit more worried as he watches his friend calmly drink his tea. For some reason or another, Oin has a feeling this isn't the end of this conversation. He also has a feeling Dori may be up to something, and that something might just be incredibly stupid. Dori may be wise in his ways, but the lengths he went to to protect Ori was a little scary at times.

Oh well. As Dori said, best not to dwell on such worrisome thoughts.

Dwalin feels a chill run up his spine. Not the kind of chill that comes from cold weather or anything. It's the kind that feels like something is creeping up behind you, growing closer and closer, slowly making its presence known and then the moment you're at your most vulnerable, it springs out of nowhere and attacks—

He quickly spins his head around to the point where his neck actually cracks and he winces. The only thing he's met with is the stretch of hallway behind him. Huh, that's strange. He could have sworn he felt something.

"Mr. Dwalin?" Ori's timid voice speaks out. He looks up at the gym teacher anxiously. Dwalin's then aware he has a very sullen-looking frown on and wipes it off as soon as it comes. He knows he's scary, and he knows he can intimidate the crap out those darn Year 10 and 11 students when he feels like it but he doesn't need Ori of all people to feel frightened by him. Then again, judging by their first meeting Ori was already scared to begin with. The moment Dwalin laid eyes on the young art teacher (before he even uttered a single word mind you!) he had immediately gasped and turned bright red with what could only be described as pure fear, plain and simple. It was the single worst reaction of Dwalin's life, and he barely even knew the man at the time.

Dwalin has to catch himself from sighing out loud and revealing his pent up frustration. It's not like he wanted to have the appearance an ax murderer. He also didn't want premature balding, but there was no helping that one. He quickly made up for it with his kick ass beard and whatever leftover facial hair he had left. Not to mention his awesome tattoos, but it seemed not everyone had an appreciation for the finer (or rougher) things in life. Ori included of course.

"Is everything alright?" Ori tries again.

"Yeah, yeah fine," Dwalin grumbles. "I just thought… I thought I felt something. Probably just my imagination though." He's starting to realize how stupid it must sound to the art teacher's ears and clamps his mouth shut.

Instead of thinking he's a total loon though, Ori just smiles and giggles. "That is very strange, Master Dwalin sir."

Dwalin makes a weird noise at the formal title. "J-Just Dwalin is fine, laddie."

"Yes, yes Master Dwalin sir," Ori chirps innocently, although Dwalin's pretty sure it's a different type of innocent compared to his normal one. Regardless, it only serves to fluster Dwalin even more.

"Seriously you don't have to—"

"I'm kidding," Ori laughs and rolls his eyes. "Goodness, you don't need to take me so seriously."

"…Right."

"Oh please don't tell me you're sulking now!"

"Shut it, would ya?"

Dwalin's always liked the way Ori laughs. It's a bright high-pitched sound, one filled with genuine glee that couldn't even compare to a newborn's first laugh. It sometimes surprises Dwalin to hear such a sound from Ori.

"I never got to say this," Ori begins all of a sudden, "But thank you." At Dwalin's confusion he clarifies, "For helping me earlier, I mean. I'm sure you must have been busy and had things to do—"

"Nonsense," Dwalin interrupts before Ori can ramble any further. He tended to do that whenever he got too nervous. "It was no trouble at all. Picking up mere paintbrushes isn't that much of a burden."

"Well, regardless I very much appreciated your help." Later he adds shyly, "Thank you."

Dwalin almost freezes up right there in the middle of the hallway. He has to quickly force his gaze away lest his true feelings be revealed. "S-Sure, any time."

The smile Ori sends him actually does make Dwalin freeze up. He stops just in time to have a door almost slam into his face for the second time that day. He staggers backwards and almost loses his balance completely if not for the small weight of the art teacher to help him regain his footing.

"Oh my gosh, are you alright?!" Ori peaks out from behind and peers up worriedly at him. Dwalin can feel the heat of those smaller hands leaving imprints on his back, burning a hole through his clothes right down to his skin and bones. He clears his throat loudly and straightens up to take the weight off Ori's hands. And he is pretty heavy, a combination of muscle and too much meat.

"Fine, fine," Dwalin mutters. He rubs at his cheeks in hopes of chasing the red away.

The person responsible for Dwalin's almost broken nose (again) looks to be a Year 9 student. "Sorry, sorry!" He apologizes profusely and bows his head each time.

"Really, it's fine. Don't worry about it," Dwalin waves off. The student bows one more time and escapes back into the classroom, whatever he was about to come out into the hall for clearly forgotten for fear of the scary gym teacher.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Ori cuts in. "Because your face is a little red—"

"I am fine."

It's a really, really good thing Thorin isn't here to witness this. Or worse yet, Balin. Those are two nightmares Dwalin is certainly not ready for yet.

Bofur leans against the cafeteria counter and sighs for probably the tenth time in the last five minutes. Bombur, who's in the kitchen on the other side, finally sets the ladle down and turns from his giant stirring pot. "Something bothering you?"

Bofur sighs again without any explanation.

Bombur shares a questioning glance with Bifur who's dumping out his finished remains in the nearby trashcan. Bifur shrugs and squints at his other cousin in curiosity. Bombur's about ask again but is cut off by yet another one of Bofur's sighs.

[Would you just spit it out already?] Bifur demands and waves his lunch tray impatiently.

"Just," Bofur holds up a hand and closes his eyes, "Give me a moment, would 'dya?" They let Bofur think like that until he finally opens his eyes and says slowly, "I just don't get it."

"Get what?"

"This… thing!" He waves his hand about the air in a vague manner. "Something's not sitting right with me, and I don't like it."

Bifur looks momentarily confused, but Bombur can't blame him. His brother has always been expressive in a not so expressive way, if that makes sense.

[Did something happen?] Bifur asks.

"No, no I don't think so. At least that I know of." Bofur taps a single finger against his chin.

"It could just be your imagination," Bombur says.

"Possibly." Bofur still looks unconvinced by this thing that's in the air which he can't quite describe.

Bilbo walks into the cafeteria just then, grabbing a tray and making his way to the front counter, smiling when he sees his friends all gathered together. "Hey Bombur, Bofur, Bifur," he chirps happily. "What's on the menu today Bombur?"

"I've got meat pies, some pasta, Italian sausages," Bombur recites and ticks off each item from his finger. Bilbo nods along as he contemplates the decisions laid out before him. He opens his mouth to answer but Bofur interrupts with a rude, "For Mahal's sakes I can't think about this when you're throwing food choices in my face Bombur!"

Bilbo furrows his brow at the English teacher. "What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing, nothing," Bofur waves off guiltily, feeling bad for his sudden outburst. "I just.. I don't know, laddie. I've got a bad feeling something's about to come, and that something is not good in any way."

Bilbo blinks at him. "Um, okay. Although I don't think you should jinx it, the Halloween party is tomorrow."

"No it's… it's something else. I don't know." Bofur visibly shakes himself and it's like the last few minutes of pensive thinking never happened. He plasters his usual carefree smile back on. "Anyways! Enough babbling from me, have you decided what to wear tomorrow?"

Bilbo pauses in filling up his paper cup with coffee. "What am I wearing?" He repeats flatly.

"Yeah! You know, for Halloween."

He blinks. "My… cardigan? And jeans? And possibly a tie?"

"No, silly!" Bofur rolls his eyes, accepting the plate of food from Bombur and depositing it on Bilbo's tray. "I meant your costume."

Bilbo turns to him, and his blank face from before slowly changes as the realization of Bofur's words hit him. "I have to get a costume," he says with a certain dread to his words. "I wasn't aware… we were all wearing costumes."

"Well of course we are!" Bofur huffs a bit impatiently. "It's Halloween, what were ya expecting?"

"Um, to be honest I'm not quite sure. I've got a bit on my mind right now."

Bofur stares at him for a moment with a slight worried frown tugging at his lips. "Well.. alright then. Just don't forget to wear it to school tomorrow."

"Right," Bilbo nods slowly. He stands there for a while kind of lost in space, then picks up his tray and walks to a nearby table. From his posture and the way he holds himself he still looks a little out of it, like getting a costume was the last thing on his mind and now he has yet another thing to worry about added to his list. At least that's what Bombur thinks, but he could be totally wrong. He looks at his family and they all shrug as they watch Bilbo fidget for a couple minutes and pick at his food idly.

"Still think it's a calm before the storm?" Bombur murmurs.

"Possibly," Bofur answers with that pensiveness again.

[Maybe] Bifur chimes in.

"Why is my son not talking to you?" Dis asks from the doorway to Thorin's office.

Thorin pauses in his writing but doesn't look up from the mounds of paperwork currently surrounding him. Earlier on he was very tempted to make a fortress around himself, mainly due to boredom, the other reason to block out all the annoying people one can encounter in a day (which, frankly, is quite a lot). Balin's disapproving glare made him shuffle the papers so that at least his face was in view. "Which son are you referring to and what exactly are you implying I've done this time?"

"This time," Dis mutters, more to herself than Thorin and shakes her head to dislodge whatever thoughts crossed her mind. "Kili. And something about you betraying your own blood? Your youngest heir? The brother of your top most heir? Whatever that means?"

Thorin slowly lifts his head up and raises a very judgmental eyebrow.

"Kili's words, not mine," Dis says in defense.

"Uh-huh," Thorin says carefully. He's not really sure where this is heading.

"So?" Dis crosses her arms and waits for an explanation. She looks so much like their mother right then that Thorin almost cowers in fear. He can remember all the times he, Dis and Frerin had stole from the cookie jar and their mother had caught them, piercing them with her 'I know you took them so which one of you will admit it' gaze.

"Your idiot sons decided to pull a prank on me," he replies in a neutral tone. He makes sure not to emphasize or highlight certain words so as not to give anything away.

"And when do my idiot sons ever not pull pranks on you?" Dis shoots back.

"Touché," Thorin points his pen at her in acknowledgement.

Dis sighs exasperatingly and pinches the bridge of her nose. "Am I really the only mature one around here?"

"You'll not forget me!" Balin cries out from his office next door.

"And Balin," she adds and rolls her eyes.

"It is Kili's own fault. His judgement was blinded at the time, thus I saw the need to take action. His need to get revenge has only further clouded his judgment," Thorin tries to justify. His voice clearly exudes all signs of 'I'm right' and 'don't argue with my decision.'

Dis blinks at him with a very unimpressed face. Finally she says, "You're an idiot," and stalks out of his office.

"I second that!"

"No one asked you Balin!" Thorin bites back, groaning when Balin takes Dis' previous position by the doorway. "What?" He spits out.

Balin rolls his eyes and hands him yet another stack of papers he had to read and sign. "Need your signature for these as well."

"Are you trying to break my wrist?" Thorin huffs while grumpily accepting the papers. He drops them on top of his numerous piles and cracks his fingers before getting back to work.

"Dwalin mentioned you had plans tomorrow evening," Balin states casually after a while.

"Did he now?" Thorin asks with little interest, most of his focus on getting these damn papers out of his hair and beard. He usually makes sure to get all his work done so he's really confused as to why there's all this piled up work all of a sudden. Then again it isn't anything new, nothing he hasn't handled before during his last 10 previous years. Still though, it's annoying.

"Something about a date?"

"Huh."

"With Professor Baggins?"

"Okay."

"Thorin."

"What?" He finally looks up at the sound of his name.

Balin sighs and shakes his head. "Nevermind," he waves at him as he returns to his office. "I'll leave you to it."

Thorin stares after the older advisor in confusion. "Wait, did you say something?" He calls out to him. He hears Balin stop walking and change the direction of his footsteps, leading him straight back to Thorin's office. When he reappears he's squinting down at his phone.

"Miss Galadriel just emailed me. She wanted me to remind you… of your meeting with her that you have yet to…" He squints and brings the phone closer to his face. "Ah, schedule. She wants you to schedule that meeting with her."

Thorin groans and almost bangs his head against his desk. "Can you email her back and tell her I'll try to come up with something as soon as possible?"

"Thorin—" Balin starts to chastise.

"Look, it's not my fault I'm so busy!" Thorin hurries on before Balin can get a word in. "I mean do you see this paperwork?"

"Yes, I do. Contrary to popular belief I am not completely blind yet. But Thorin, you can't keep putting this off forever."

"Technically it's only the third time."

"Precisely my point!"

"She does realize this isn't my first time dealing with situations like these, right? I don't know if her memory's already gone foggy, but this is not my first child-abuse situation."

"Thorin, it's protocol. You know as well as I do that whenever situations like these happen, it is required for all factually to meet with the school counselor so she can sign off on your papers and allow you to get back to work," Balin recites straight from the faculty's handbook. "The only reason she has allowed you to keep working is because you haven't shown any symptoms of trauma or mental breakdowns yet. So I would suggest you meet with her soon before she revokes all your teaching rights period."

"But I'm the headmaster," Thorin frowns.

"Thank you Captain Obvious, but you think that's going to be a sound argument against her wrath?"

"I'm not traumatized."

"It's protocol!"

"Well… protocol be damned," Thorin shrugs off and buries his head in his work. Maybe if he tries to look super busy Balin will leave him the fuck alone. He's considering pushing a rather large stack of papers in front of his face and ending the conversation right there.

"You're being a child."

"I am not. I'm just busy, that's all. I don't have time to talk about my feelings on a situation that I have encountered many times in my career. If it bothers you so much I can always email her back instead."

"By the time you email her back it'll be a month later," Balin mutters.

"And that is why you're my advisor."

When Balin doesn't respond Thorin fully expects him to have given up on any further arguments and stalk back to his office. Instead he's still standing there staring at Thorin with a dead look in his eyes. Thorin stares right back and raises his eyebrow at him.

"What?"

"You know it's funny. Funny, how you won't talk to a school counselor about your feelings but you'll talk to Professor Baggins about your whole childhood history." And with that Balin spins around and walks out, leaving Thorin completely and utterly flabbergasted, and maybe even a little red in the face too.

Later that day, somewhere not on Erebor's campus.

"I hear Erebor is hosting their annual Halloween party tomorrow."

"Is that so?" The man leans back in his chair and folds his hands on top of the armrests. "Interesting… and is he going?"

"I believe so, as he is a part of Erebor's staff."

"I see… make room in my schedule for tomorrow then."

"Yes, sir. Would you like me to cancel your appointment with Mr. Elrond?"

"Yes, do that. Elrond won't mind, we can meet any time."

"Of course sir," the man's assistant nods. He scribbles something in his planner, shuts it promptly and exists the office to make a few phone calls.

Author's note: WHO ARE THE TWO MYSTERIOUS FIGURES AT THE END?! Here's a hint: a certain sassy elf king and the hottest single dad of Laketown.

MORE TO COME SOON.