Kili's POV

My brother is a bastard. What? It's true! He's a bastard. An ass. Quite possibly the most annoying creature I could ever suffer meeting. Which isn't to say I don't love him, of course; I do. You can't be stuck with someone for nigh on fifty years and not, really. No, I loved him, but that made him no less of a bastard.

He had me by the ear, currently, dragging me about as if I were a child and mumbling something or another about dungeons and rocks. I haven't the faintest idea what he was on about; he gets that way sometimes, though.

"Let go of me," I grumbled, and he shook his head.

"No, because if I do, then you'll run off and do something stupid, like punch that elf girl." I might've pouted, a little, but only the very slightest bit.

"She deserves to get punched," I groused, and he raised his eyebrows at me. I sighed. "Well. At least to have her ears tweaked a little." He hummed, trying his damndest to tense his jaw and bite back his laughter. I grinned; my brother never could resist a good joke, same as me; it was the little things like that, really, that proved we were even related.

After all, no one could tell by our looks; I, you see, am much more attractive, and, when speaking, my voice is much more pleasant to hear. He's a bit of a… well, he's not exactly handsome, shall we say. He is my brother; I've no desire to call him uglier than our ponies, however true that sentiment may be, nor do I wish to say his voice sounds like claws scraping over stone, although that may be equally true. I have some standards, after all, and he is my beloved brother, so how could I possibly say such cruel things? I really did wish he'd let go of my ear, though; he was reminding me far too much of our mother.

"Yes, yes, shut up why don't you; I'm not actually going to take you to the dungeons, you idiot. No, I'm going to show you how you ought to handle cases of hobbit-napping." Oh, this would simply have to be rich! I laughed.

"Is that so? This I have to see, brother mine." He looked faintly offended, brow furrowing just exactly like Uncle's, and it was at last my turn to hide a laugh. He really had no idea how much alike they were, honestly; I might've looked more like him, but he was, by far, more similar in personality. A stray thought slipped through my head, quick, before it was gone; the both of them would be fine kings, one day. I would be proud to stand beside them, whether I ever said as much aloud or not.

"Oh, shut up. How is it that after all this time you still haven't admitted that I'm cleverer than you?" I grinned.

"I'm an awful liar, Fili." He cuffed me over the head again, but it didn't hurt. It never did, really. In any case, he dragged me until we reached a sitting room that Bilbo really liked, one with a particularly large fireplace and especially soft, large chairs. He had me sit in one and took the one beside it himself, slipping some wood and a knife from his pocket and scraping at it softly, quietly, thoughtfully.

I watched him, admittedly curious and a little fascinated; I'd never learned carving. Hadn't had the patience for it, though I had a good, steady hand. Watching Fili, normally so similar to myself, settle into such a task always caught my attention. Mother always thought it was funny, how I could have the patience to watch but not the patience to do; I thought it only made sense. I got in a hurry with myself you see, not with my brother, nor even with Bifur on the rare occasions that I got to watch him.

Within an hour or two, a shape began to appear; it looked like… that ass! He was carving that pony Bilbo was so fond of! I glared at my boots, for a moment. Why hadn't I thought of making him a present? Gifts had seemed to work pretty well so far, if what Dori mentioned was any indication. Surely I could've made something, even if I wasn't fond of carving, right? Of course I could've! I crossed my arms and he chuckled, flashing a smirk at me as he continued his work. I wondered, could I get a new brother? Surely there were tons of folks out there eager to be related to me. More time passed as he put the finishing touches on his creation, fine little details that made it look lifelike, if miniature; he'd been told more than once that were he not a crown prince, he could've been a fine toymaker.

Little more time passed before Bilbo came wandering in, looking a little surprised to see the two of us, but not at all upset. Rather, he smiled brightly as he came over to us and settled in a chair by me, turning his gaze almost immediately towards the dancing fire. He actually jolted a little when Fili spoke, drawing his attention towards him.

"Here," he said, "something to remember us by, when we're apart." Clever bastard; I only rarely understand why people insist on calling him silver-tongued, but when I do understand, I understand. Depending on his mood, he could sell water to a fish. Bilbo flushed a particularly vibrant shade of red as he took the little carving reverently, a small, sweet smile curling his lips.

"Why, I don't know what to say! Thank you, Fili; this is very sweet." He ran his fingers over it as though it were a holy relic, and Fili flashed me a wild, proud look, far too pleased with himself. I huffed, but didn't mention anything; after all, it seemed he had won this round. I wondered how long I'd have to listen to him gloat as he drew Bilbo into conversation, but eventually decided it didn't really matter as I joined in as well.

After all, it mattered little who made Bilbo stay, only that Bilbo stayed, and if my brother could manage it, I would be just as proud as if I'd done it myself. It's what brothers do, you see, even when they want to kill each other. And, yes, even if one brother, a certain blonde one, is a complete and utter ass. In any case, when Bilbo finally retired for his room, I offered Fili a nod in acknowledgement.

"Very clever indeed, giving him gifts; I guess I'll have to give you some admiration for that." He laughed, shaking his head.

"Gifts? Oh, no, those are part of my plan, yes, but they are far from the whole thing! No, you'll see the rest later, brother." Curiosity suddenly filled me; a secret plot, eh? Well, it must be very devious indeed if he didn't want to share it with me. Perhaps I'd still have an opportunity to come out on top after all, if I could figure out his plot before he wanted me to do so. I resolved to watch him carefully the next few days, and see what, exactly, he had in mind.


I hadn't known that anyone could be so prolific at making gifts; as days passed, he gave Bilbo more and more, from simple things like buttons to replace those that had fallen from his vest and a handkerchief I was almost certain he'd pilfered from an elf to complex little bits and baubles, like a shiny golden clasp for his cloak and a bright silver ring he spent almost an entire day working on. I watched carefully, seeing Bilbo look ridiculously happy with each gift, and decided that my brother was obviously a genius.

Until, at least, I noticed something else; Uncle was growing more and more annoyed with each passing day, even though the hobbit's contact with the elves was steadily decreasing as we prepared to leave Rivendell. Funny; I'd have figured he'd have been happy, honestly, given how bothered he'd been by Bilbo being so friendly with them.

It wasn't until Fili made a single bead that he proceeded to braid into Bilbo's hair that I realized something that shocked me to my bones; was Fili's master plan to court Bilbo into staying with us? Really? That was… that was… it was brilliant, yes, but it seemed a little… cruel, compared to Fili's usual style; he wasn't often one to court when he wasn't interested.

Oh. Was he interested? No, he couldn't be! There'd been that girl at home, and… and… ah, well. I suppose Bilbo wouldn't be the worst brother-in-law, really. I sighed, watching the two talk by the fire, Fili's eyes flickering around him, and then Thorin came stalking in like a great cat, his eyes dark and angrier than I'd seen them since that one time I accidentally dropped his favorite boots into molten gold. They'd been quite pretty afterwards, in any case; I really don't know why that upset him so.

Anyway, yes, he was looking very angry as he came to stand before my brother and Bilbo, and he gazed at them both for a moment, eyes fixed on Bilbo's braid, before at last he simply snatched Bilbo by the arm and stomped away with him. I gaped. Fili laughed wickedly.

"What? Fili, weren't you…," I tried, a little unwilling to actually say the word "courting."

"Courting him? Oh, no; I was merely playing at it, to get our dear uncle to quit all that snuffing and snarling and tell him how he actually felt, and since Bilbo's got no idea how our courting works, he was none the wiser through it all. Watching Thorin dance around Bilbo was really starting to bother me, you know; besides, if I hadn't done something, he'd have ripped off at least one elf's head, by now. Still might, really; perhaps I've only prolonged the inevitable." I stared, for a moment, allowing all of that to sink in, before at last I found myself laughing like a madman.

That was my brother! My wicked, wonderful, brilliant, complete bastard of a brother! I clapped him firmly on the shoulder and wished I had a drink to toast, but as it was I only cheered him for hitting two birds with one stone; we'd have our hobbit, and Uncle would quit pining! It was amazing! I laughed one more time, and he grinned at my side; surely this would be the end of this whole mess, wouldn't it? I really couldn't imagine how Thorin could possibly mess this up, when Fili had as good as handed him the solution to all his woes! Of course, looking back on it, perhaps I underestimate my uncle's sheer devotion to his rock-headedness, sometimes.