Thorin lay on the ground, eyes unblinking as cartoons played on the television. His brother, Frerin, was kicking at him, hoping his small legs would miraculously grow and nick his shoulder, or at least his nose. He was really hoping he'd at least graze the nose.

Thorin, though he was wholly unaware, was pining.

It had been five days and already he was feeling the effects of no Bilbo. And to think, he had another week of this!

He had managed the first few days gallantly, particularly because Christmas was a very good distraction (naturally). But now that the excitement had died down he found life absolutely pointless. What was the point of doing anything if Bilbo wasn't by his side?

Not that he woke up like this. Oh no. It was Frerin that had started it, simply by asking Thorin to color with him.

So now he lay on the ground, a hopeless and pitiful sight.


"Where are we going?" Bilbo asked, as his mother zipped up his coat, wrapping a scarf tightly around his neck, followed by his hat and mittens. He grinned as he stomped around the house in his snow boots, waiting for his mom to put on her own coat.

"It's a surprise," she told him with a wink.

Bilbo crinkled his face, giving his mother a dubios look. "Are we going to the doctor?" he asked. He didn't like the doctor.

Belladonna shook her head. "It's a good surprise," she said.

That got Bilbo thinking. He tilted his head to the side, tapping his mitten against his chin. "Is it ice cream?" he yelled, hopping up and down in excitement.

Belladonna took hold of her son and shuffled him out the door, saying, "No, we are not getting ice cream."

All throughout the car ride Bilbo did his best to guess the surprise but to no avail. They weren't going to a robot farm, or building a spaceship, or even going to the park to hunt Eskimos (Belladonna didn't have the heart to tell him Eskimos were actually a people. He was just so excited.).

So when they pulled up to a two story house with a large front yard and pretty, perfectly neat bushes lining the porch, Bilbo was very, very, confused.

"Where are we?" he asked, nose pressed to the glass.

Belladonna smiled as she undid his seatbelt and helped him out of the car. "You'll never guess," she continued.

Bilbo couldn't think of where they were. It wasn't grandma's house because she lived in Hobbibibton (Bilbo was never going to be able to say it). And it was too obvious to be a spy training school. He followed his mother as they marched to the front door. Even as his mother lifted him up to ring the doorbell, Bilbo still, for the life of him, couldn't figure out where they were.


Thorin barely stirred when the doorbell rang. It was probably the mailman. Or one of those awful salespeople that his mother liked to hide from whenever she saw them get off their bikes.

"Thorin!" his mother shouted for him. He didn't stir. He didn't want to get up. He refused. He wasn't going to do it. Even if Frerin was giving him very pointed looks. He wasn't getting up for anything.

"Thorin!" came a cry before a marshmallow wrapped child jumped atop him. Thorin barely had time ot realize it was Bilbo before Frerin decided to join in on the fun and jumped atop both of them.

Once detangled, Thorin just stared at Bilbo. "What are you doing here?" he asked, reaching out his hand and touching Bilbo's hat with the funny ear flaps. He seemed to be real…

"You're my surprise," Bilbo whispered conspiratorially, before pulling away, a thought popping in his head. "Or maybe I'm your surprise." He shrugged his shoulders, his childish exuberance not deterred by semantics.

"Alright," Freya said, lifting Thorin up, coat in hand. "Up you get."

"Where are we going?" Thorin asked.

His mother winked, just as Belladonna had done to Bilbo some twenty minutes earlier. "It's a surprise."


Freya had called Belladonna early that morning, just as she saw Thorin slowly deteriorating into a state of epic brooding. "Mine's trying to become one with the hardwood floors," Freya told her. "How about yours?"

"He was alright until he told me he wanted to show Thorin his new painting easel," Belladonna said. She snuck her head into his playroom, spying on his activities. "He's painting the two of them painting." She paused to giggled, ducking away when Bilbo turned his head at the noise. "It's a bit funny."

"It's very funny," Freya admitted, setting Dis down into her bed for her nap, her raggedy lion she had named 'Toh' squeezed tightly to her chest. "Doesn't stop me feeling bad about it though." She closed the door quietly behind her, leaning against the door. "I don't understand these boys at all. Thorin's never been this attached to anyone before."

Belladonna sighed a dreamy sigh. "Amour."

"They're six."

"Age means nothing in the face of true love."

Freya laughed. "Well what are we going to do about it?"


Bilbo munched on his hotdog, swinging his legs back and forth, humming a little tune under his breath.

He had never been so happy in his whole life. He couldn't think of a single moment in all his five years. Well there was that one time he got to hold his cousin's bunny and it licked his nose. That was a very close second.

Thorin sat beside him in the big museum cafeteria, eating his pizza with a grin. He had a glob of pizza sauce on his shirt and smeared all over his cheeks, and when he smiled at Bilbo, there was cheese stuck in his teeth. And Bilbo thought he was perfectly beautiful.

He had always thought so, from the very first moment he saw him.

Bilbo had been very surprised – though he didn't show it – when Thorin had wanted to color with him. He always played with his friends in the playground, running around and jumping atop each other. And then Bilbo got to find out that Thorin wasn't only beautiful, but nice and sweet to boot. And he always made Bilbo laugh, though Bilbo was sure Thorin didn't know why he was laughing in the first place.

Thorin was… well… he was perfect, that's what.

"What're we gonna do now, Mama?" Bilbo asked, mouth full of hot dog. His mom wiped his mouth with a napkin as Thorin laughed at the scene. Moments later, Thorin's messy face was attacked by a napkin as well. He fought and struggled, but to no avail. Belladonna won that battle.

Bilbo stuck out his tongue at Thorin, who in turn stole one of his apple wedges. He retaliated by stealing one of Thorin's grapes.

"Alright," Belladonna said, breaking up the boys before war was declared. "No domestics during lunch."

Thorin and Bilbo looked at each other. "Momma Bilbo," Thorin said, brows furrowed, "what's a domestic?"

Belladonna cleared her throat, partly to prepare a subject change, but also because Thorin was, quite admittedly, precious. "How about we go look at the trains next?" she asked.

The boys cheered in unison.


"How's it going?" Freya asked, bouncing Dis on her hip, while serving Frerin his coveted spaghetti and meatballs, phone pressed to her ear through shear willpower and good shoulder muscles.

"Don't touch, remember," Belladonna called out, no doubt to one or both of the boys, before turning her attention back to Freya. "Perfectly content. I saw Bilbo kiss Thorin when he said he loved Bilbo more than dinosaurs. I pretended not to see."

"I have no comment, other than an alarmingly high pitched, awww," Freya commented, setting Dis in her high chair.

"Thorin really loves dinosaurs though," Belladonna said. "I never heard him speak so much. My head kind of hurts, I learned so much."

Freya smiled. "Yeah, well he sort of fell in love with dragons," she explained. "And Thrain basically convinced him dinosaurs and dragons were basically the same thing. I like to think it's alright to fuel the obsession." There was no reply other than an ear piercing sound over the line. "Bella?"

"I'll call you back," Belladonna said just before hanging up.

Freya stared at her phone, feeling like she was going to be getting a phone call very very soon. There was a tug on her sleeve as Frerin whined, "Mommy, more 'sgetti!"


Bilbo wanted to pulle the whistle. All trains had whistles. And this train had a big orange whistle.

"I want to pull the whistle," he said.

Thorin kicked the train wheel, hurting his toes. It was good craftsmanship, no need to worry. "We can't," Thorin told him.

"Yeah we can," Bilbo argued. "It's not that far up." He pointed upwards where the whistle stood gleaming, right over the cab. The handle wasn't that far up, and was rather close to the stairs leading up.

"Your momma said not to touch the train," Thorin repeated, less confidently. He cast a weary look at her but she was on the phone.

Normally, Thorin would be first in line for these types of shenanigans. But he didn't want momma Bilbo to not let him play with Bilbo anymore. He couldn't go on without Bilbo in his life.

"We're not gonna touch the train," Bilbo told him. "Just the whistle. And the stairs, cause we can't reach it if we don't climb the stairs. That's it."

Thorin nodded. The two boys quietly climbed the steps and were in the cab. They beamed at one another. This was so cool. Thorin looked up again at the whistle handle. "I don't think we can reach."

"Sure we can," Bilbo announced. He smiled brightly at Thorin. "Give me a boost."

After a brief check to see whether Momma Bilbo was looking or not, Thorin nodded. "Alright."

He crouched down and helped Bilbo get his legs around his shoulders. "You okay?" Thorin asked, slowly standing up, Bilbo perched precariously on his shoulders.

"Yeah," Bilbo replied, clutching tightly to Thorin's hair for balance. "To the whistle!"

Thorin stumbled forward, trying to get underneath the handle so Bilbo could pull. He fell forward, Bilbo falling off, the room filled with screeching sound of a train whistle as Bilbo hung onto the handle for his life.

Thorin gathered his wits quickly, standing underneath him and wrapping his arms around his legs. "I got you!" he shouted over the whistle.

Bilbo let go and both boys tumbled to the train floor, the resounding silence deafening.

There were shadows upon them and both boys looked up, flashing equally guilty smiles up at Belladonna and more than a few security guards.


Thrain covered his face in embarrassment as Freya laughed uproariously in bed beside him.

"I can't believe they're banned from the museum."


"Only until they're ten," Belladonna reassured Bungo. "Hopefully when we go back again, they won't even remember Bilbo."

"I liked that museum," Bungo grumbled into his tea.


"I know you do," Freya said, patting Thrain's cheek. "But let's face it, if Thorin hadn't been the one to cause mischief, it could have been Frerin. And he'd make us all banned for life."