Spring started well at the very least, which Thorin was grateful for. Their route was carefully planned to allow them to avoid potential attacks by orcs, or others who would attack them for the supposed fortunes they carried with them, a dwarf on the road was always in danger of bandits, despite the fact that all knew they had lost everything in Erabor save a few heirlooms that were quickly dwindling away.

Spring was always the worst time for attacks by bandits, especially if the winter had been a harsh one. The goats were herded along in front of them, followed by some of the older youths, already it had swelled in size as kidds were born and milk became more plentiful, and as the spring went on meat would no longer be whatever game animals they had managed to snare overnight and the concoctions set to boil over the fires would become thicker.

Spring was a time for new hope, and life, and despite the journey still being a long one, already some of the remaining women were whispering about babes in their bellies. Winter had been kind to some it seemed, and the warriors with whom these women had lain had pride etched into their faces. By the time they reached the Mountains there would be a swell amongst them as well.

Or so Thorin hoped.

It added more worry to the journey certaintly, but no one could feel anything but happiness after so much death and dispair. Of course, this happiness brought looks of siginificance to Thorin from his friends, Balin in particular. Would he take any of these women from the men they had chosen to lay with as his wife? Thorin wore a scowl near permanantly etched upon his brow, because no, he would do no such thing.

Dwalin was not making things any easier, which made Thorin angry with his friend, who had been his companion through much of his life, and he had hoped for more understanding. Case in point. Dwalin had taken hold of the boys, swinging Fili up to his shoulders and was carrying Kili with one arm and was regaling the child with a much watered down version of Thorins own battle with Azog.

Fili listened with rapt attention, his hands fisted tightly in Dwalins ricidiculous mohawk, eyes straying to Thorin at times, wide and filled with hero worship.

"Will I ever get to be so brave?" Fili asked.

Thorins first thought at the question was 'No, you will most certaintly never ever be put in a position where you have to.'

Dwalin gave a laugh, a small one, with a touch of sadness that was easy to overlook if one did not know him. "Of course you will Little Prince. When we take back Erabor."

Thorin turned furious eyes to his friend, who just looked back, unrepentant. Thorin could say nothing as the children were there, but he promised with his glare that he wouldaving a talk with the taller warrior.

It was days before he got his chance, Dwalin was always offering to go on the evening checks around the camp, returning only after he knew the boys were asleep and Thorin could not distangle himself to take him to task, and the days were spent in the company of the boys themselves. And it seemed that once Dwalin had opened the floodgates, all those around him began to refer to Fili and Kili as Princes. It was unfair and he needed to put a stop to it quickly.

When he got his chance it was early evening and he had given Fili into the care of Bofur and Bombur, who had continued to insert themselves into his circle and he had not the heart to send them away again, not when Fili enjoyed their company so much. He invited himself along Dwalins checks and the silence between them was heavy and filled with meaning.

When they were away from the camp Dwalin spoke first, cutting across Thorins own attempt to speak.

"They're already calling Fili your heir." he said, voice low and serious. "With no prompting from any of us, since before the winter even. No one is blind to the bond you share, he calls you Uncle and you have not once refuted that claim he has taken. My friend, your cause is already a lost one. Do yourself a favour and just make it formal."

Thorin was stumped, left blinking at his friend in shock, all his words fled him.

Dwalins hand fell onto his shoulder. "You have kept your grief too long already. Let it go and see what is waiting for you after."

Thorin pulled away, shaking his head. "I cannot." he said, voice hoarse as all the emotion he fought to keep inside strained against the locks he had put on them. "There is too much to do Dwalin, you know this. If I was to give into it then where would my people be? I need to be able to think clearly."

Dwalin gave a short, dreisvie laugh. "If there is one thing your mind is not Thorin, it is clear. It had not been thus since Moria. But sometimes, when you are with those boys and forget yourself, you are the dwarf I call friend and your people call King. Share Grief, move past all this death and look to the future, for Mahal's sake, before you lose everything!"

The remainder of the evening passed in silence, Thorin refusing to awknowledge Dwalins words, and Dwalin dispairing of his friend.