A/N: Beta-ed by the wonderful kailthia (tumblr username: kailthia) and ceallaig (tumblr username: ceallaig1). Thank you for all your hard work, ladies!

Chapter 4

"Oh, wow," Ori breathed, wide-eyed and a little speechless at the towering mound of presents in Fíli's room, "this is…rather impressive."

Ori slowly paced around the pile, stopping occasionally to poke at a random package with the curiosity of an insatiable toddler. "How did you gather so many suitors in so little time?"

At the corner of the room, Fíli sat defeated, back hunched and face buried in his hands. He grunted something that was unmistakably a curse. It would have been more impressive if he didn't look so wretchedly dejected.

"Oh look," Ori leaned over and flipped the tags attached to a bright red present. "This one looks like it's from Lord Thrim! You can tell it's his sigil - it looks like a little padlock." His amusement died quickly. "Lord Thrim?" his lips twisted in mild disgust. "He's got to be at least a full century and a half older than you! What sort of vile, dirty, old Dwarf will cradle-rob – "

Fíli's muffled groan cut through Ori's rant and the scholar clapped his hands over his mouth to stop himself from finishing that damning sentence.

"Sorry, Fíli." Ori slowly lowered his hands and flushed in embarrassment. Dori had often yelled at him for his habit of speaking without thinking. On more than one occasion, he had accidentally upset Dori's tea-shop patrons for being too blunt with his comments.

Clearly, that was the last thing Fíli needed at the moment. Ori could also understand the young prince's current predicament, having had to reject many suitors himself back when they were in the Blue Mountains.

"So…" Ori started, much more gently this time, "Is this what you need my help?"

Fíli nodded from his corner of misery. Ori didn't think it was possible but Fíli drooped even further and looked even more wretched than before.

"And what can I do to help?" Ori trudged over to Fíli with slow, cautious steps, pulling up a chair beside the prince before making himself comfortable on the cushioned seat. He gingerly leaned over, patting his friend on the back.

"I just want to get rid of these damned things!" Fíli cried. He straightened enough to vaguely gesture at the towering stack of gifts. Ori leaned away to avoid getting hit in the face. "I've started sending some of them back, but new ones keep flooding into the room and…and," he reburied his face into his hands. "Why does everyone sign their wretched packages with their personal sigils? I can only recognize a quarter of them! I can't possibly send back the presents if I don't know who the sender is!"

Ah, Dwarven custom at its finest. Ori wasn't sure why tradition dictated the Dwarves to present their courting presents in such a secretive manner. The shy, almost hesitant way the gifts were left in front of Fíli's doorstep was very much at odds with the bold and proud nature of the Dwarven people.

If only Fíli's suitors were as daring as King Thorin, Ori thought a little wistfully as he scooted his seat closer to wrap an arm around his friend. Thorin was fast earning a reputation for being a progressive king, and for being startlingly different from his Grandfather. In his brief reign, Thorin had discarded most of Erebor's strict court etiquettes, leaving a handful in place for the odd special event or banquet. Naturally, King Thorin's actions were very popular among the young and the less traditionally inclined.

But the bold way in which the King had presented his courting presents to Bilbo had even left Thorin's most staunch supporters in shock. After all, there had been no Dwarven King who had given his present – a new set of translated Dwarven poetry, of all absurd, un-Dwarfish things to give away – to a Hobbit in full view of the court and possibly half the kingdom.

"And why shouldn't I present my gifts in public?" Thorin had said when his moves were questioned by a balding and particularly stupid advisor. "I am not ashamed of my Chosen, nor of my feelings towards him. Let the Kingdom and the world witness the love and respect I hold for Bilbo."

Bilbo had, predictably, flushed a bright red, but the pleased grin on his face had stretched from ear to ear.

Ori had to admit that when King Thorin decided to hang the traditions, he did it with style.

"Do you think we can get through this pile by Tuesday?" came Fíli's timid question.

Ori chewed his lips thoughtfully and tightened his hold a little. "You're probably going to need more help to sort through all of this before the big party, if that's what you're hinting at." The scholar paused. Fíli was going to hate what he has to say next. "I also think that we may need to tell King Thorin about this."

Fíli pulled away from Ori and looked at him as if he were mad. "No, Ori! No! That is a terrible idea! I can't tell Uncle about something as insignificant as this! He'll think that I'm completely incompetent!"

"He won't think that, Fíli."

"Yes, he will!" Fíli unexpectedly snapped, his face tight with anger. The bitterness in his tone had Ori momentarily taken aback. "It's bad enough that I failed him when he needed me the most! I couldn't defend Kíli, I couldn't defend Uncle, I couldn't do anything! He had to turn his back towards his enemies so that he could save me –"

Fíli's breath hitched and Ori's heart sank. "I will not have it," Fíli's voice was trembling but a hint of steel laced his words. "I will not give him another excuse to be ashamed of me, Ori."

Ori would have laughed at the sheer incredulousness of that statement had it not been for the grave expression on his friend's face. Ashamed? Of Fíli? Everyone in Erebor could see how patently untrue that was. Fíli had conducted himself in an exemplary manner as a Prince in exile aside from the rare instances where he was swayed into mischief, often than not by his brother. Although he could be naïve, and honest to a fault, (and, Ori noted wryly, lacking the level of craftiness that one cultivates from spending time in the royal court), Fíli's friendly and easy-going nature consistently earned him a group of loyal friends. Not surprisingly, the prince was rather popular.

If only Fíli himself could see all of the positive qualities that others saw in him. If only Fíli could see the pride and the fierce, protective love shining in Thorin's eyes whenever the King caught sight of him.

"He is not ashamed of you, Fíli!" said Ori with furrowed brows. He watched the anger bleed away from Fíli's face, transforming instead into a deep-seated weariness, and he felt a fresh surge of protectiveness humming through him. "You have done nothing wrong and everyone knows it. Thorin knows it. "

"It certainly doesn't feel like I've done nothing wrong," Fíli mumbled quietly to the ground. He threw a quick, nervous glance at Ori. "Look Ori, I just – I know I'm being foolish but I want to be the one to take care of this. If I were to tell Uncle, he would swoop in and take charge of the situation."

Ori sighed and shook his head sadly. "You're not foolish and I know that you want to solve this problem on your own, but what if Thorin finds out? You do realize that with so many gifts being sent to your room, it's inevitable that your Uncle will know about this?"

From the way Fíli's back had stiffened, Ori could guess that Fíli hadn't planned that far ahead yet.

"Can't I just…let him find out on his own?" Fíli hedged even as he winced at his own terrible idea.

"I'd imagine that Thorin would be even more upset that he had to find out through a secondary source rather than from you." Ori hummed a little in thought, "Maybe…you can get away without telling him that you're having problems. You can tell Thorin that you are receiving gifts from suitors and that you have taken steps to mitigate the situation. He may be less inclined to interfere if he believes that you've got this matter under control."

Fíli looked up, hopeful. "Do you think that it'll work?"

"It may," Ori shrugged. There was a slim chance that the King might become sidelined, but Ori doubted it. Still, if that strategy gave Fíli the confidence to talk to his Uncle, then why not? "Be prepared for some prodding questions, though. Either way, it's a better alternative than keeping this a complete secret from your uncle."

Fíli slumped back against his seat and pressed his hand against face. "I'm doomed either way, aren't I?" he mumbled. "Alright, I'll tell Uncle Thorin later."

"Whenever you are comfortable, of course," Ori agreed readily, making no effort to hide the relief in his voice. Thank Mahal.

"But in the meantime, I still need help to sort through this." The prince gave a weary side-glance at the leaning tower of presents.

"What about asking for help from the Company then?"

Fíli scowled. "The Company gossips like old wives! Look at Gloín and Bofur! They're the absolute worst!"

Ori winced. That was a very good point.

"Alright, so maybe we shouldn't go asking all the members of the Company for help." Ori mentally went down the list of Dwarves who could help. No Kíli, no Thorin, no Gloín and no Bofur. "We'll need to pick someone who is knowledgeable, secretive, not too busy, and nosy enough to have a thorough knowledge of Dwarven personal sigils…"

Ori's eyes lit up and he gave Fíli a beatific smile, "Actually, I know just who to ask."

"Lad, when you called for an emergency Ri family meeting, I wasn't expecting this," Nori drawled slowly as he gazed up at the towering stack of presents. He gave a low whistle. "This is almost as impressive as your previous stack of gifts. Well done!"

From beside Nori, Dori rolled up his sleeves. "Well then," he announced a little too blandly, "who wants to be the one to tell them off this time? You or me, Nori?"

"Nori, these aren't for me. They're for Fíli." Ori's reply was laden with exasperation in the way that one would to an embarrassing parent. He turned to his elder brother, unimpressed. "Dori, there will be no scare tactics being employed this afternoon, thank you!"

"Oh," Dori blinked in surprise. He calmly unrolled his sleeves, brushed off the wrinkles in his clothes and turned to Fíli with a large, encouraging smile, "Congratulations, lad!"

"Thanks," Fíli deadpanned.

Dori's smile wavered.

"Judging from that answer and the haphazard way these presents are stacked, methinks the prince has problems with unwanted suitors." Nori's cocky voice drifted from behind the mound of presents that he was inspecting. "And you've called on Dori and me for help?"

Fíli nodded tersely, but realizing belatedly that Nori couldn't see, he added, "Will you help me, then?"

"Of course we will!" Dori turned to Fíli with soft, pitying eyes. "Between Ori, Nori and I, we have enough experience in dealing with…unsavoury advances." The old Dwarf screwed his face as if he had smelled something rotten.

"Oy!" Nori poked his head around the present column and cried out, visibly annoyed, "don't go volunteering my services when I never – alright, alright! I'll help! I'll help, you old codger! Yeesh!" He quickly ducked back behind his defensive wall of gifts to hide away from Dori's death glare, but all the Dwarves in the room could still hear him mutter, "You'd think a Dwarf deserves more of a warm welcome after being away on a perilous journey for so long."

"You were gone for three weeks on a mission in Dale," Dori's answer was as dry as the desert. "I would call it many things, but a long perilous journey it was not."

"Can we please focus on the task at hand?" Ori interrupted quickly before his brothers could start yet another fight. "We will need to set up some sort of system to organize – "

"Wait a moment," Nori moved away from the pile juggling a large package in each hand. "The King has given us permission to deal with all of this as we see fit, yes?"

"Uh…" Fíli shuffled awkwardly in place. He sent a pleading look to an equally helpless Ori.

"Mahal's hammer, does the King even know?" Nori unceremoniously shoved the packages back into the pile and backed away quickly. "Lad, what were you thinking? We shouldn't even be touching these before informing Thorin!"

"What Nori meant," Dori fired a quick glare at his brother and explained to a paling Fíli, "is that we can't be seen acting in secrecy on matters that could impact the kingdom. And whether you like it or not, lad, your courtship will impact Erebor."

"But I don't even want to be courted!" Fíli scowled at the injustice of it all. "And I was going to tell him later!" He flinched at the twin looks of disapproval from the two elder Ri brothers and he felt his protests dying an undignified death on his lips. "I guess I should go tell him now instead?" he said meekly.

"Now would be the perfect time," Nori agreed, giving the prince another withering look for good measure.

Fíli made a habit of not approaching Thorin for his personal problems unless they were very, very dire. Unlike Kíli, who ran to Thorin to whine, sulk, rant, chat about nonsensical things, or to do any combination of those activities, Fíli had always been less forthcoming with his thoughts and emotions. His role as Crown Prince had weighed heavily on the back of his mind and with it, the need for him to present an unflappable image.

Then again, unlike his brother, Fíli also didn't have the luxury of being the youngest and the favourite.

(The latter was more of a speculation than anything. Uncle would never admit that he had a favourite, even on the pain of death. Fíli knew the truth, though, and he certainly didn't hold this against his Uncle.)

Fíli also had another reason to avoid talking about his personal issues with his uncle. Simply put, he was absolutely shite at it. Neither his Uncle nor he were ever vocal about their emotions so when the both of them got together to talk about their feelings (of all the horrible topics they could breech) –

Things tended to become very awkward, very fast.

Case in point: if Thorin was the one doing the talking, the conversation would be filled with awkward silences, intercepted with awkward shuffling, awkward side-glances, and awkward throat-clearing.

If Fíli was the one doing the talking, then he would inevitably become a babbling mess who would deny that anything was wrong or confess that everything has gone horribly, horribly wrong in a barrage of panicked, nonsensical words.

"I don't have to say that anything is wrong or that I'm having problems," Fíli repeated Ori's words under his breath like a mantra just as he turned into the lavish hallway that led to his Uncle's office. "Just tell him about the presents and how I've started to send them away. It's a straightforward fact. I can do that."

Stupid Nori and Dori. If it hadn't been their sarcastic scolding (Nori) and looks of deep-seated disappointment (Dori), Fíli would not have been pressured into visiting uncle now.

Was this what it was like to be Ori? Fíli groused to himself, stopping once he reached the King's office. Because being the younger brother to Nori and Dori was the absolute worst.

The intricately carved set of oaken doors loomed ominously in front of him without providing an answer.

Fíli took a deep breath. Then another one. And then a third for good luck.

Right. He could do this.

The sharp sound of his knocking echoed in the near silent hall. "Who is it?" came his uncle's unmistakable baritone.

"It's Fíli! Can I come in?"

"Knocking for once? This is new." The unexpected light-hearted comment soothed away some of Fíli's nervousness. He felt a small, shaky smile creep up his face. "The door is unlocked. Come in."

Fíli was greeted with the familiar sight of his uncle sitting hunched over his work desk, with the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows. A large glass mug sat to his left within easy reach, filled to the brim with the builder's tea that his uncle favoured. Stacks of documents were placed haphazardly on the polished surface of his desk and on the plush, carpeted floor, forming a miniature (and rather impressive) barricade of paperwork around his person. Fíli had asked on many occasions to help with the work, but Thorin would stubbornly wave him away. Eventually, Fíli learned to just barge into the chamber and refuse to leave until he was given a portion of the paperwork by a very exasperated Thorin.

"At least Balin will be pleased to know that his etiquette lessons have finally sunk in," Fíli quipped back as he pushed the door shut behind him. "Good afternoon, Uncle."

"Good afternoon, Fíli." Thorin replied pleasantly enough without looking up from his document. Fíli stalked closer to the desk to squint at the title. Soil Composition Assessment in the South-East Region of Erebor, Part 3/Section 2S7H89. Egads, how horrifically boring. "And Balin will not be pleased to know that it has taken you over 80 years to remember to knock before entering."

Fíli could not help but snort. "I'm fairly sure that between Kíli and I, Balin has learned to set his expectations low. That way, he will find himself pleasantly surprised whenever neither of us has caused a small fire or destroyed something valuable."

Thorin coughed into his fist and looked up with poorly disguised indifference. "I see," he answered neutrally, but Fíli could see the corners of his lips twitching. "And to think that I had actually believed Balin when he was raining praises on the both of you."

Fíli blinked in surprise before breaking into a large, delighted grin at the news because – well, it's Balin. His compliments are notoriously hard to come by. "Balin said something good about us? When was this?"

"Just yesterday." Thorin placed his pen back into its holder and nonchalantly tossed the report on top of a nearby pile of paper. Grabbing his mug in both hands, he turned away from his desk to face his nephew. "He said he was happy to see the both of you doing such a fine job playing hosts to our guests."

Fíli grimaced. He wasn't so sure if it was him who was doing such a fine job playing host or if it was his guests who had taken an unnatural interest in him and were forced to be on their best behaviour to impress him. Fíli's terrible predicament in the form of brightly packaged headache-inducers was proof enough of the latter.

Thorin, of course, immediately noticed his nephew's expression. His eyes sharpened. "Fíli? Is something the matter?"

Well, Fíli thought, resigned, here goes nothing.

"About our guests," Fíli paused, unsure how he could continue this sentence in a delicate manner without sounding like a complete idiot. "There seems to be a few who are trying to catch my attention."

"Oh?" Uncle Thorin said with a teasing grin, and Fíli felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment. The King brought his mug to his lips and asked before taking a sip, "And how have they been trying to catch your attention?"

"In the – uh – form of presents." Fíli swallowed. "Courting presents. Lots and lots of them."

Fíli jumped to the side, narrowly dodging the spray of tea that Thorin violently spat out.

"Courting presents?" Thorin choked out with watering eyes, "Lots of them? How many, exactly?"

"I'm – ah – not exactly sure?" Fíli winced. "I...haven't had the chance to count."

"You're not sure?" Thorin repeated, incredulous. "You haven't counted?"

"It's a substantive amount!" Fíli retorted defensively. "Navigating around my room is difficult as is with all the gifts lying around, let alone counting them all!"

He immediately regretted his choice of words.

Thorin spluttered. "You can't navigate around your own room?"

"This was before I stacked them into a pile," Fíli hurriedly explained. Already, his plan to present his problem as a not-problem was starting to go up in flames. "It's much better now! I've just got one pile that goes from floor to ceiling. Perfectly manageable – "

"It touches the ceiling?!"

"It barely skims the ceiling!" Why was he so terrible at this? "And in any case, I've been returning the gifts to the senders so the leaning tower of presents is nowhere near as ominous as it could have been. See? The situation is under control!" Fíli chuckled nervously, his voice strained, "Perfectly under control!"

The look Thorin threw Fíli was full of questions – horrible damning questions that Fíli was dreading and most definitely did not want to answer. Quick, the little desperate voice in his head whispered, say something to distract him, make a joke or something!

Of course, what ended up coming out of Fíli's mouth was this: "At least it's good to know that my age and gender are not detracting factors to my suitors. Dwarven love really knows no bound."

Thorin made a strangled noise.

That was an absolutely terrible joke.

"That was a terrible joke," Fíli admitted with an awkward, reedy laugh. Whelp. His plan had not only gone up in flames at this point, it had been burnt to a fine crisp, leaving behind the metaphorical ashes that have blown into a cesspool of shit. "I'm going to stop…talking now."

The ensuing silence was so thick that Fíli could feel it pressing against him on all sides. This was mortifying. Where could he find a convenient, Dwarf-sized hole so that he could crawl inside and die?

"Fíli," Thorin started slowly. The look he gave his nephew was filled with worry. "What exactly has happened?"

Fíli's shoulders slumped forward in resignation. "Why don't I just show you?"

Fíli watched his Uncle inspect the gifts with a critical eye, his expression growing more and more thunderous with every passing minute. Beside Fíli, the three Ri brothers stood close by in an act of solidarity. Ori gave Fíli a quick pat on the shoulder and a small encouraging smile.

Honestly, Ori was the best.

"Fíli," Thorin called out and the blond immediately snapped to attention, "you said you received these a few days ago?"

"Yes, the majority of these came yesterday."

"Did Kíli receive any?"

Fíli shook his head. "I don't think so." If his cousin Thorin was right, it didn't seem like the other Dwarves had wanted to target Kíli. Thank goodness for small mercies.

"And these gifts were not solicited?"

"No!" Fíli replied, affronted. "Most of these Dwarves I've never even met, and I have no intention of being courted by anybody. I've been trying to send all of these back! That's why I asked Ori for help."

Thorin hummed in acknowledgement and circled the pile slowly again. "I believe you, Nephew, although I am curious to know what spurred on this sudden gift-giving incentive. In the meantime, I will send someone to collect these from you and have Balin record the names of the Dwarves who dare harass you in such a manner."

He stopped briefly to glower at the gift tags, no doubt recognizing the sigils of those unfortunate bastards. "Vultures, the lot of them," Thorin snarled, so low and vicious that the three Ri brothers instinctively tense up.

"Uncle!" Fíli started, alarmed and embarrassed. This was precisely what he had been trying to avoid in the first place. "I can take care of this matter on my own! You shouldn't have to worry about something so trivial."

"With all due respect, your Majesty," Nori stepped out from his defensive position behind his elder brother. "There isn't a law that prevents Dwarves from sending presents to the Dwarf they fancy. As to why the Prince is receiving such a large volume of gifts all of a sudden, I would guess that it's his appearance at the banquets that has caught the attention of so many."

"Thank you, Master Nori. I am aware of the laws of my own kingdom." Thorin raised a cool brow at the Spy-Master. Nori grinned, unrepentant, and ignored Dori's desperate attempt to pull him back. "As for my intervention on this matter," the King turned towards Fíli, eyes blazing with a protective fury that the younger Dwarf had not seen since they were recuperating in the healing tent. "It is clear that you are the only one being targeted by these Dwarves for whatever nefarious reasons that we have yet to fully discover. In the meantime, I refuse to sit idly by and watch one of my own being preyed upon!"

Fíli felt his insides go cold.

Preyed upon. As if he was some sort of vulnerable creature that needed to hide behind his Uncle's coat at the first sign of trouble. Thorin could not have made it more clear as to what he thought of Fíli with that one statement.

Fíli balled his fists tightly by his side. His nails were biting into the flesh of his palms but he ignored the stinging pain. He is not prey, and he is not weak.

"I'm not asking you to sit idly by, and I am not being preyed upon, Uncle," Fíli barely restrained himself from spitting out those last few words. The anger and hurt must have registered in his voice because Thorin was looking at the blond, surprised. "I am asking you to trust me to take care of this situation. This is my mess, and I should be the one to clean it up."

"Fíli – "

"He won't be doing this alone, your Majesty," Ori stepped forward and proclaimed boldly. "My brothers and I promised to help him. At the moment, we have plans to send back every single one of these gifts, unless your Majesty objects, of course."

"We can still provide you with the list of names of all the Dwarves who has sent a present to the Prince," Dori offered. "We will be using the list as a method of matching the Dwarf with their corresponding personal sigils anyway. It won't be any extra work."

"I can also keep an eye out for any potential trouble, Majesty," Nori crossed his arms and squared his shoulders. His expression was surprisingly serious for once. "I can send back a report if I catch anything suspicious from these Dwarves."

Thorin kept silent. He let his serious gaze rove over the four Dwarves, his dark eyes sweeping over the Ri brothers before settling heavily on Fíli.

"Please, Uncle," Fíli insisted. He refused to look away.

I am not weak. I am not prey.

Finally, after what seemed like a small eternity, Thorin's shoulders dropped and he let out a deep sigh. "Very well, Fíli," he conceded grudgingly, "I trust you to handle this matter. However," he raised his voice to interrupt Fíli's happy cheer, "I still insist on sending some men over."

"What?" Fíli cried, a little incredulous. The fleeting moment of happiness deflated almost immediately. "Why?"

"As extra bodyguards to protect you against any potential trouble." The King levelled his nephew with a knowing look. "I will not be talked out of this."

"I can defend myself perfectly fine!" Fíli rebutted stubbornly. "I don't need guards!"

"Fíli," Thorin said in warning.

"How many were you thinking of sending? Four?"

Thorin pressed his lips together in a thin line of displeasure. Fíli, however, recognized that expression and knew he had guessed right.

"Uncle! Four is grossly excessive!"

"Four is a perfectly reasonable number."

"One. I will only need one guard! And even that is unnecessary!"

"You shall have three. I am not willing to negotiate on this."

"Two, Uncle!"

"Fíli." The warning tone was back, stronger than ever.

But Fíli refused to stop. "Two is perfect! We can station them outside of my door and have them flank the entrance. What's the third one going to do? He'll just be a waste!"

"The third one can also guard the door if he knows what's good for him!"

"Or we can have two guards and leave out the third!"

"FINE!" Thorin snarled and threw his hands up, his hold on his temper finally snapping. "Have your TWO guards, but you don't get a say as to which ones I pick. There will be no more complaints about this matter and I expect this list of names in a few days time. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?"

With a final glare at his nephew, Thorin turned on his heel and stalked away. Fíli could barely discern his Uncle's unhappy mutterings of "insolent Dwarfling" before the door was slammed shut behind him.

The four remaining Dwarves glanced at each other in silence.

"Well then," Nori clapped his hands and said in false cheer, "that went rather well!"

To put things lightly, the next three days were absolute hell.

"That package was supposed to go into that third pile over there, not the fifth pile!"

"That was not what you told me five minutes ago. You distinctly said, 'put that package in the fifth pile!' Don't blame me for your own incompetency!"

Between his duties to the kingdom and the deadline Thorin had imposed on him to compile that list of names, Fíli found himself constantly on the run from one end of Erebor to the next. Even meal times did not offer him the reprieve he needed; instead of leisurely enjoying his meals as he normally would, Fíli would sit down, inhale his food, and dart out the door in fifteen minutes flat just to buy himself as much time as he could on the gift-sorting project.

Even Kíli, with his spotty meal attendance, had noticed that something was off.

"Fíli?" his brother had grabbed him by the arms in the hallway during one of Fíli's return trips to his chambers. "Is everything alright? I haven't seen you around lately."

"Oh, um, everything is fine," Fíli had replied distractedly, "Just. You know. In a hurry. Look Kíli, I'll talk to you later. I have to finish something for Thorin." With a final quick wave, he dashed away from his brother.

That had been yesterday evening.

"I clearly said the third pile! Just because you've gone deaf from spending all your time at those rowdy gambling houses – "

"And you've clearly gone senile if you can't even remember what you said five minutes ago!"

The sad truth was that Fíli had a very good reason to be rushing back to his chambers.

"Senile?! I'll show you senile!"

"Better sit down, old man! You wouldn't want your knees to give out!"

"Will you both just STOP IT?!" Ori snarled. He violently slammed his pen down on his desk, not caring that he had splattered dark ink across the parchment he had been writing on, and pushed his chair back to stand up. The inkwells rattled dangerously on the table.

Nori and Dori loosened their stranglehold on each other and jumped back in surprise.

"You've been at this for the last three days!" Ori stalked towards his brothers like a man out for blood. Once in a while, he would fluidly step around the piles of presents on the floor, but he remained unstoppable on his war path to throttle his brothers. "If you hadn't spent so much with your childish bickering, we would've been done ages ago! Instead, I get to hear the most useless, asinine comments for the past. Three. Days!"

Dori and Nori grew more and more alarmed with each step Ori took.

Fíli rushed out of his seat and grabbed the younger Dwarf by the shoulders from behind to stop him from committing fratricide.

This was why Fíli was so insistent on returning back to his chamber as soon as possible. Clearly, his presence was needed - not to stop the imminent combined destructive forces that were Nori and Dori, but to protect the older Ri brothers from Ori.

"We've almost done sorting everything," Fíli said in a soothing tone in his friend's ear. He's taken to doing that a lot lately. "We have maybe ten gifts left where we have to identify the senders before we can send the list of names off to Thorin."

Slowly, Ori dropped his aggressive stance. Fíli quickly signed in Iglishmêk behind the scholar's shoulder to Nori and Dori. Get tea, you fools!

"We're sorry lad, we hadn't meant to cause you so much distress." Dori looked mortified by his own actions.

"Perhaps a nice spot of chamomile tea would do us all some good," Nori offered quickly. "Dori, why don't you come with me to the kitchen and help me fetch some?"

The two scurried out the door without another word.

Ori let out a tired sigh once the door shut closed. "You didn't need to send them running, you know. I wouldn't have hurt them. Much."

"Of course I had to," Fíli replied smoothly. He wasn't even surprised that Ori had known. "I wanted to spare my poor room from being torn to shreds from the Battle of the Ri's."

Ori huffed out a laugh. Fíli noticed with mild alarm that he had not denied those allegations. "Well," the scholar said instead, "at least we have some peace and quiet to – "

There was a sudden, knocking on the door, loud and insistent.

"Spoke too soon," Fíli retorted, walking over to the entrance. He opened the door a crack to peek out and blinked in surprise at the sight that greeted him. "Dwalin? What are you doing here?"

"Let me in, lad. I'm your personal guard."

"You can't be my guard," Fíli frowned in confusion. He nonetheless pulled the door open and stepped aside to let Dwalin through. "I've already got two."

"They are off-duty today so I am acting as one of their replacements," Dwalin grunted. His gaze softened when he spotted Ori. "Master Ori," he nodded cordially. "Pleasure to see you here."

To Fíli's surprise, Ori flushed a bright red that extended from his cheeks down to his neck. "Oh. Um. Likewise, Master Dwalin," he squeaked out. He gave the warrior a shy, shaky smile.

Dwalin quirked his lips in what had to be the friendliest smile Fíli had seen on the King's Guard's face. The gentle, fond expression was very much out of place with the dark, tribal tattoos on Dwalin's head and the scar on his brow.

The prince quickly turned back to gape at his young friend and Ori's smile was positively saccharine by now and was he peering at Dwalin from under his lashes?!

What sort of madness is this?

Dwalin cleared his throat, pulling Fíli's attention away from asking the burning questions he had at the tip of his tongue. "I see why Thorin is behaving the way he has been now." The warrior nodded to the five piles of presents on the floor. "You have accumulated an impressive group of admirers, lad."

Fíli watched Dwalin slowly circle around the presents to do his own inspections. "Uncle's been behaving oddly?" the blond asked.

Dwalin rolled his eyes and snorted. "He's been positively beastly. He spent the past few meetings glaring at the Iron Hills ambassadors as if he was ready to gut them like fish. Lord Thrim almost pissed his pants in fear."

Fíli choked on air. Ori, who had just taken a seat at his desk to get back to work, didn't even bother holding back his bark of laughter, the traitor.

In retrospect, Fíli should not have been surprised at all. Of course his Uncle would not let this matter settle just because he had promised to let Fíli handle it.

"Has…he done anything to the Dwarves?" Fíli was almost afraid of the answer.

"As if Balin and Bilbo would let him burn away the bridges of our alliances that easily." Dwalin crossed his arms over his chest and peered down at Fíli with something suspiciously close to concern. "Lad, you should have told us that you were having some trouble," he said gruffly. "We would have helped you sort through this mess sooner."

Fíli groaned. "Dwalin, not you too!"

"I just don't see why you've been keeping this a secret."

"I wanted to deal with this situation on my own without making a large fuss of it." Fíli ran an annoyed hand through his hair. So much for that plan. "And I wasn't having trouble with this until just recently."

Dwalin shook his head. "Courting business is always troublesome," he said sternly, as if he was drawing from a deep well of painful, personal experience. Fíli wondered which brave, mad Dwarves had attempted to court Dwalin, and whether they had survived to tell the tale. "And you've got some explaining to do once he gets here as well."

"Wait," Fíli's thoughts came to a screeching halt. "Who's he?"

Just as Fíli finished his question, the heavy set of double doors unceremoniously banged open, the sound echoing loudly around the room causing Ori and Fíli to flinch back in surprise. Fíli whirled around in time to see Kíli stalking forward with purpose and determination, his long strides eating up the distance between himself and his brother.

And he looked – Fíli noticed with trepidation – utterly hurt and absolutely furious.

"Fíli!" Kíli reached over and gripped Fíli's shoulders tightly, his dark eyes blazing, "Why haven't you told me you were being courted? How long has this been going on?" The brunet did a double-take when he noticed Ori's presence despite the young Dwarf's attempt to shy away from view. "And what's he doing here?"

Fíli spluttered. "What do you mean, 'what's he doing here'? What are you doing here, Kíli?"

Kíli's grip tightened on Fíli. "I'm here," he spat out, "because I volunteered to be your guard after Uncle told me everything that you wouldn't!"

Fíli felt his temper flare white-hot at the accusatory tone but he struggled to clamp it down. He could concede that his deliberate secret-keeping would hurt Kíli, but it wasn't as if he had done so with malicious intent. And besides, what right did Kíli have to act so righteously angry? He was the one who had become all secretive for the past months, and more recently, with his time spent with that she-Elf.

"I haven't told anyone else about this because I've been trying to handle this on my own as quickly and quietly as possible." Fíli gritted out. He shrugged off Kíli's grip and took a half-step back, but he couldn't keep himself from glaring. He refused to back away, not when he was in the right about this. "Uncle found out because he has to know, and Ori is here because he has experience in handling this matter."

Kíli looked even more affronted by the explanation. "Oh, so basically, you haven't told me because you don't think I can help you or you think I couldn't keep a secret. Is that all?"

Oh for the love of Mahal!

"Not everything is about you, Kíli!" Fíli snapped. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Dwalin and Ori discreetly tiptoeing out the door. "Besides, it's not as if you were around much for me to tell you anything!"

"What is that supposed to mean?!"

"It means that the pot is certainly calling the kettle black! You've been acting all secretive longer than I have what with you ferreting away with that Elf Captain!"

Kíli narrowed his eyes to dangerous slits. "Don't you dare pin this on Miss Tauriel! Besides, I never made it a secret that I was spending time with her! You even gave me your approval to court her, unless you lied about that too!"

It was as if the world around Fíli had slowed to a stand-still. He could feel the air rush out of his lungs, leaving him gasping. Kíli's words continued to ring hollowly into his ears, and with each reiteration, the sharp pang of pain in his heart grew more and more poignant.

Courting. Tauriel.

What?

"I – I did no such thing!" Fíli said hoarsely. He would never – when was this even? He had no idea! "I didn't even know you were courting her!"

"Unbelievable, Fíli!" Kíli threw his hands up in the air in disbelief. "You told me to take my time and that you didn't mind!"

The words sounded frighteningly familiar and Fíli dug deep into the recesses of his memory to recall when he had had this particular conversation with his brother. When had he said something remotely similar to that? When was this?

The meeting!

"I thought you wanted to spend time with her because you needed to get things off your chest!" Fíli explained desperately. "I thought it would help since you no longer seem to want to talk to me anymore!"

"I –" For a brief second, a flash of guilt passed through Kíli's eyes and he stood gaping at his older brother, but the moment passed just as quickly as it had arrived and Kíli shut his mouth with an audible click. "Are – are you serious?" he laughed brokenly, "You were giving me permission to talk to Tauriel?" Kíli shook his head and positively snarled out, "Who made you my keeper!?"

"I'm not trying to be your keeper, you idiot!" Fíli roared out. This was it. He was done with being nice. "I am trying to do what I thought would help you since you wouldn't tell me what's wrong!"

"You want to know what's wrong? This is what's wrong!" Kíli gestured at the air between them. "You always need to fix everything that you perceived as wrong and you can't take no for an answer! Well guess what?" He took a half-step closer to Fíli. "Not everyone wants you to meddle into their problems! I don't want to talk about what's wrong, I don't want to be fixed," he gritted out that last word with venom, "and I don't need you to constantly hover over me like…like I am some incompetent child!"

Kíli made a slashing motion with his hand and continued his tirade, "And maybe that's why I like spending time with Tauriel! She never treated me like I'm a child or like I'm someone lesser! She treats me like I'm her equal!"

"What are you even on about?!" Fíli cried out, confused, hurt and more than a little insulted. He could not begin to understand what sort of warped logic Kíli had employed here. "All I've done is try to make you feel better! Since when does caring about someone equate to treating them like they're incompetent?"

"Since you felt the need to give me permission to talk to Tauriel, that's when!"

"I wasn't giving you permission, damn it all!" Fíli yelled back. He was seconds away from throttling his brother. This was ridiculous. He was done with this conversation. "But fine! Since you seem so against the idea of me giving you permission for anything, then I clearly do not give you the permission to court the Elf Captain! It's a terrible idea and I most definitely do not approve of it!" Fíli ignored his brother's sharp inhale or the way Kíli had recoiled back as if had been slapped. "And if you think either me or Uncle will let you get away with making such a stupid decision, then you have another thing coming!"

A trickle of guilt made its way into Fíli's heart from seeing his brother's crushed expression, but he stomped it down viciously. Never in a million years would he approve of the she-Elf. Even thinking about it was making his stomach roil and his chest tight as if his heart was being squeezed by an invisible hand.

"So, this is what you really think," Kíli chuckled bitterly. He wiped at his wet eyes and Fíli refused to budge, no matter how guilty it made him feel seeing his brother this upset. "I thought you of all people would have supported me. Clearly, I was wrong." The brunet swallowed hard. "I'm glad to know that I finally got at least one truth from you."

Fíli clenched his fists tightly and bit his tongue from blurting out his apologies. He would not retract his statement. He was right whether Kíli liked it or not.

"Right. Understood." Kíli's voice was shaking with emotion. "Clearly, our conversation is finished here. Now if you excuse me, I need to return to my post. I gave my word to the King that I would help you." The archer turned away from Fíli and rigidly stalked towards the exit. Just as he wrenched the door open, he threw over his shoulder, "Even when you clearly do not deserve my help."

The door slammed shut with a definitive bang.

Fíli whirled around, grabbed the half-bottle of ink that was sitting on his desk, and violently hurled it across the room. The sound of breaking glass against the wall did not make him feel any better.

A/N: Phew! This chapter took a lot of face lifts before I was satisfied enough to send it off to the betas. Now that all the nastiness is out in the open, let the cold war between Fili and Kili begin (and let the good times roll!)

I'd also like to point out that this is the chapter in which Fili and Kili are both jealously possessive of each other without realizing that they are being jealously possessive. Also, Fili is angry at Thorin for coddling him without recognizing that *that's* exactly what he's doing to his brother.

Dwarves. They can be stubborn, difficult, and more than a little slow when it comes to matters of the heart. ;)

Many, many thanks for your patience and to all those who read, reviewed, kudosed, bookmarked, recced, and favourited this fic! As always, please let me know what you think. I *do* factor your comments into the plot and it helps me to determine where I need to focus on the story-telling, which characters should get more screen time, what parts need more explanation...and etc.

Anyway, catch you all next time. :D

(Random additional note: the gifts were divided into 5 piles as follows - 1) Erebor suitors (male), 2) Erebor suitors (female), 3) Iron Hills suitors (male), 4) Iron Hills suitors (female), 5) all others. Pile 3 easily towers over every other pile. Thorin is incredibly unimpressed.)