AN: So I watched the third Hobbit movie and am disappointed by the way they seemed to have brushed Fili aside (as always). A good chunk of this chapter was written with the goal of soothing away that particular hurt.

Un-edited and unbetaed. Thank you kindly for your patience and I hope you all have a wonderful New Year.

For the next few days, Fíli and Kíli had taken to avoiding each other like the plague. This was, surprisingly, rather easy to achieve; Fíli had all but locked himself in his room to deal with the Suitor Problem (as Ori had coined it with a frown of distaste) while Kíli had made it his personal mission to stay away from the Royal Wings whenever he was off guard duty.

It wasn't as if Fíli was completely unhappy with the fragile peace that had settled over his life. He was well aware that a second run-in with Kíli would only erupt into a cataclysmic fight of epic proportions, one that would most likely end in a fistfight and an exchange of scathing comments. He wasn't ready to see his brother yet and he had a feeling that this was quite mutual.

Of course, leave it to Uncle Thorin to shatter the peace with his damnable request for a meeting.

"The list is complete and up to date, your Majesty. You will see that we've divided the suitors based on their home, nobility, gender, and threat level as denoted by the number of x's beside each name. Ori is also keeping a second copy of the list should we need to make any changes. We shall send you those updates if they are available."

From his armchair, Thorin reached for the parchment in Dori's hand and scanned it with furrowed brows. "What of the gifts?"

"All gifts have been documented," Nori sidled over and gave a short nod to his older brother. "We are also in the process of returning those back to their senders. We anticipate to be finished by Thursday at the latest. A full report shall be sent to you as soon as we are complete."

"Do we know how many suitors we are dealing with?"

"We counted somewhere along the 70's, your Majesty."

Thorin's horror was palpable to Fíli even when the blond had his face firmly buried in his palms, pretending that life still made sense. Ori, dear, sweet Ori, who had been standing to his right like a silent, vigilant pillar of strength, made a soft sound of pity and gently patted him on his back.

Last he had counted, the number of suitors who had sent Fíli a courting gift totalled to exactly 72 people, to Dori, Ori and Balin's surprise, and Nori's amusement (the bastard).

Fíli wasn't sure how he should react anymore. A part of him was still shocked that people – as in plural, how did that happen – had expressed enough interest to court him. The other parts of him were a convoluted knot of emotions with his fear, embarrassment, disbelief, and confusion all tangled up in a big mess of hideousness.

At least, he could draw small comfort from the fact that nothing could possibly top this mortifying experience of being courted by the equivalent of a small hamlet of Dwarves. Surely, nothing could beat the humiliation arising from Thorin's awkward explanation of the Suitor Problem to a deeply amused Balin.

"We just intercepted a Dwarrowdam attempting to place her gift by the Prince's doorstep," came Dwalin's gruff tone by the entrance to Thorin's office. He stalked forward with a sullen Kíli in tow and deposited a frighteningly vivid orange package on the King's desk. "Lady Gunnlod of the Iron Hills. She also wanted to deliver this message." Dwalin motioned to Kíli, who fished into his coat to pull out a large scroll. He unceremoniously tossed it on to the table and it landed beside the gift with a soft thud.

Thorin shifted from his seat and eyed the scroll suspiciously as the three Ri brothers and Balin shuffled closer to look. "What is that?" Balin asked his brother, his tone wary.

"It's a poem." Fíli had a very bad feeling from the awkward way Dwalin coughed into his fist, "The poem listed all the things the Lady loves about the prince."

"Oh? Surely, it couldn't just be a love poem if it is making the great Dwalin fret," Nori commented a little too casually. Fíli, who remained behind the protective meat-shield that was Dori (mainly to put as much distance as he could from Kíli), shot the thief a dirty, dirty look.

Dwalin's dark glare mirrored Fíli's. "The Lady included different fictional scenarios featuring herself and the prince," he said tersely.

"Fictional scenarios?" Balin asked, intrigued.

"Yes, fictional scenarios." At Thorin's expectant look, Dwalin gritted out with the same level of reluctance as a man knowingly led to his death, "Of the erotic variety."

The room descended into an awkward silence, minus the rasping, chocking noises coming from Thorin's throat. Fíli slowly buried his face in his hands again with the added effort in willing himself out of existence. He was wrong, so very, very wrong when he thought he could not be any more embarrassed by this situation.

"You just had to ask!" Dori hissed out to Nori just as he managed to clap his hands over his mouth to stem his guffaws.

"Oh come now, this is hilarious!" Nori choked out with tearing eyes a few beats later. "The Lady wrote a scroll full of fictional smut and tried to deliver it to the prince in person! However you look at it, you've got to admit that she has a real brass pair of – "

The Dwarves ignored the thief's yelp of pain.

"I want all the information I can get from this Lady and how much of a threat she will pose," Thorin ordered, and if his voice was thinner than usual, nobody was suicidal enough to comment. "Master Ori, add the Lady to the list."

Fíli peered through the cracks of his fingers and watched the words 'Lady Gunnlod' neatly scratched into the parchment in Ori's characteristic loopy writing. The scholar only hesitated for a brief second before he added several large x's beside the Lady's name.

She had scored herself four out of five x's, higher than even old Lord Thrim with his cradle robbing tendencies and his disturbing obsessions with locks and locks paraphernalia.

"We need more guards."

The Dwarves turned to Kíli at his solemn words, surprised.

"We are woefully unprepared to face our threat," the archer spoke up again, his tone oddly controlled. "There are 73 Dwarves who may be dangerous that we know of, but there may still be more lurking about undetected." Kíli's gaze swept over his audience and Fíli barely stopped himself from scowling when his brother purposely avoided looking at him. "Two Dwarves guarding at the door is not enough. We should be arranging a series of checkpoints with different guards manning their posts, and we should have that at every single hallway that could lead to the royal chambers."

"And how many guards and checkpoints would you suggest?" Thorin asked.

"There are two ways that could lead into the Royal Wing. I would suggest three checkpoints starting from each of those entrances with four guards manning each checkpoint."

Fíli grimaced. The absolute last thing he wanted was to feel like he was constantly watched by a group of soldiers like some helpless damsel in distress, especially when he could more than outfight any of his potential threat. His pride would not survive such an insult. He'd rather face a hundred Lady Gunnlods than to be swathed in cotton.

Besides, he had barely wrestled an agreement from Thorin to have two guards posted at his door by being even more stubborn than the king. How that tactic had worked was still a mystery to him, which meant the chances of him replicating that success were slim to none.

"Come now, a series of checkpoints is an unnecessary waste of resources!" Fíli said with a weak chuckle. "All I've been receiving are presents. They're a major annoyance, but they're hardly a threat!"

Kíli cast a quick incredulous look at his brother before turning away, clearly unimpressed. "According to that list, we have gotten lucky that the73 Dwarves that have managed to send a gift to Fí – the Crown Prince had not caused any more harm," the archer said coolly to Thorin. The little spark of irritation that was present in Fíli burst into flame. "However, with the current lack of security, who's to say that our good fortune will hold out?"

"And what reason do we have to believe that this pattern will not continue?" Fíli countered with steel in his voice. "Those speculations are groundless and they shouldn't be entertained without – "

"What you call speculations is what I call foresight," Kíli cut in, finally turning around to glare at his brother. "And maybe, you should havespeculated a bit more about the consequences of hiding this suitor problem from us in the first place! We wouldn't have had to clean up your mess otherwise!"

Fíli flinched, the words felt like a sudden blow to his gut that had knocked the wind out of him, but just as quickly as the pain spiked through his body, it was replaced by a surge of red-hot rage coursing through his veins like an electric current.

That little hypocrite! Kíli should be the last person to accuse Fíli of not sharing his problems when he himself refused to admit that anything was wrong despite being withdrawn and sullen before Tauriel's arrival. Honestly, what was he expecting Fíli to do after Kíli had made it clear that he wanted to be alone? Was he expecting Fíli to chase after him and beg for his attention? Now that the tables have turned, Kíli had absolutely no right to act all insulted when it was Fíli who refused to talk, especially since Fíli was only doing it to give the little bastard some space to sort through his own issues.

"If this is such a bother to you, you're more than welcome to leave! Nobody asked you to help. Mahal knows I certainly didn't," Fíli hissed out with enough venom to make his comment sting. "And talk about the pot calling the kettle black! Shall I point out how you should be speculating about the consequences of your choice of friends?"

He felt a dark thrill of satisfaction at seeing his brother's paling face.

"That," Kíli snarled out, low and threatening, "has nothing to do with this!"

Fíli let out a bark of harsh laughter that had Ori recoiling away. "That has everything to do with this, or have you conveniently forgotten our previous conversation?"

"How could I forget," Kíli sneered. "You've made it so clear just how little you think of my judgment with your incessant need to grant your approval over who I meet."

"For the love of Mahal, since when exactly have I said that?" Fíli threw his hands in the air, his frustration finally boiling over. "When did I eversay I thought little of your – "

"You thought I couldn't handle the truth! That's why you were hiding information from me! How is that not thinking little of me?" Kíli snarled, jabbing a finger at his direction.

"Well, you certainly aren't handling it very well at the moment, are you?"

"So you DO admit it then!"

"I NEVER SAID THAT!"

"YOU PRETTY MUCH IMPLIED IT!"

"I HAVEN'T DONE THAT EITHER! YOU ARE LITERALLY MAKING THINGS UP!"

"ENOUGH!" Thorin slammed his hand down on the desk with a resounding crack. "I will not have the two of you bickering like children when we have a serious issue at hand! I will have you both act like the dignified princes that you are or so help meyou will not like the consequences!"

Thorin's words were like a bucket of cold water.

Chest heaving from his shouting match, the blond glanced about the room. His eyes caught Dwalin and Balin, standing to the side and shaking their heads in disappointment. Ori had shifted away from Fíli to huddle beside his brothers, his expression as gloomy and miserable as Dori's. Even Nori looked visibly uncomfortable.

Fíli felt the last flames of his anger smothered out by a crushing wave of shame.

What was he even doing?

Here he was trying to prove to Thorin that he was a proper Crown Prince, that he was responsible enough to handle his own messes without his uncle intervening on his behalf, but he was behaving more like a child with the way he was egging Kíli on in front of an audience. How pathetically petty was that?

"I…" Fíli swallowed heavily. This was beyond mortifying. "Sorry, Uncle," he muttered, his eyes downcast, "It won't happen again." Distantly, he heard Kíli mumble out his own set of apologies.

The thick silence returned to the room, weighting over the Dwarves as constrictively as a sodden blanket. Fíli could feel heat on his cheeks as he kept his eyes locked to the ground, feeling worse by the second. He jumped a little when he felt a soft pat on his shoulders.

"There, there lad," Balin murmured. "Courting business has the tendency to bring the worst out of us Dwarves. However, your brother does have a point. Two or three additional guards are not enough." The advisor frowned and turned to Thorin, "Speaking of which, how were the presents delivered? Surely, the guards would have noticed all these suitors sneaking into the royal wings to deliver their presents."

"I have conducted an investigation," Dwalin grunted. "The majority of the suitors had instructed our servants to deliver the gifts for them. There were a few bolder souls who managed to slip past the guards to make the deliveries themselves. Lady Gunnlod was one of them."

To the shock of all the Dwarves in the room, the warrior took a step forward and sank to one knee in front of Thorin and Fíli. His large, powerful frame was rendered strangely diminutive by his submissive pose. "I take complete responsibility for discovering this issue so late. I have questioned the guards and have remedied the situation." Dwalin shook his head harshly, "I humbly submit myself to your displeasure, my King, my Prince."

Fíli felt his mouth go dry. Here was Dwalin, one of the strongest, proudest, most loyal Dwarves he has ever known, who was as close as family, on his knees asking for forgiveness. This was wrong. The warrior shouldn't be bowing to anyone, least of all him, who had been acting in a manner unbefitting of a prince. He opened his mouth, not knowing exactly what he should say but damn it all, he had to get Dwalin to stand up –

"Dwalin," the King raised a hand to stop his nephew in his track. "You are one of my most loyal friends and have served me well. I will not see you disciplined for this failure, especially when you have a solution in place already. I trust that you discovered what had been the cause of this problem?"

"Aye, your Majesty." Dwalin kept his head resolutely bowed. "The guards have admitted that they were occasionally distracted by lost Dwarrodams asking for directions. I suspect that this was a distraction tactic employed by the suitors to sneak into the Royal Wing."

"And your remedy?" Thorin asked, his expression neutral.

"The guards have been disciplined and have received new training. They have also been instructed to stop any servants from making present deliveries."

Thorin nodded curtly. "Then rise, Dwalin. I will need you to keep constant vigilance over any potential threat these coming weeks until the festivities are over." The King reached over and clasped Dwalin by his shoulders once the soldier was reluctantly on his feet again. "I know well enough that you have punished yourself for this transgression and I will not add to that," he said earnestly, ignoring Dwalin's protests. "But if you insist on redeeming yourself, I would like for you to work with Fíli to establish the security measures around his person and around his chambers. I trust that you will not fail me."

"Uncle – " Fíli started, his eyes flickering back and forth between his uncle and Dwalin in surprise and in confusion. This...was not at all what Fíli was expecting. With Balin and Kíli's criticisms of Fíli's sparse security detail, Fíli had thought that Thorin would've placed Dwalin completely in charge even if it meant going against Fíli's wish for a small number of guards.

"Fíli," the king gave his nephew a soft, expecting look, one that he would normally reserve to temper Kíli's passionate rants, "I trust that you will be able to take Balin and Kíli's considerations when working with Dwalin."

Fíli nodded quietly. That…wasn't an unreasonable request. Fíli could work within those parameters especially if it meant that he had a second chance to prove to his uncle that he handle this Suitor Problem without interference. After all, the last thing we wanted was to be a disappointment again.

In the end, they had settled for a watered-down version of Kíli's plan.

"We will place two guards by the West Entrance of the hallway leading to the royal chambers, and another set of guards by the North Entrance." Dwalin pointed to the locations on the unfurled map on the oak desk in the privacy of Fíli's room. "In addition, we will have two guards to patrol the halls and two to guard the door. Guard rotations will occur at every hour. Are we all in accord?"

With no other protests from Fíli, the brief meeting was adjourned, and the three packed up the maps in tense silence. Dwalin gave him a final nod before stepping out of the room with Kíli following silently behind without a single backwards glance.

Fíli managed to shut the door firmly behind him before he sighing deeply and resting his forehead against the wooden surface of his door in a dejected slump. What an exhausting, soul-draining ordeal that was, but at least it was over. If only his fight with Kíli could be resolved as well…

Snorting to himself, Fíli pushed himself upright and trudged to a nearby chair, collapsing into it in a graceless if his brother was going to let go of his anger that easily. There was no denying that Kíli was beyond furious. His uncharacteristic cold façade was telling enough. Many Dwarves have only seen the young Dwarf respond with volatile anger, but Fíli knew that when his brother was deeply upset, his anger ran bone chilling cold. Only a few people had managed to get Kíli to react in this fashion in the past – Uncle Thorin and their mother Dís.

And now, apparently Fíli as well.

That realization had hurta lot more than he had anticipated.

Oh come now, just because he is throwing a massive temper tantrum doesn't make him right! Fíli thought furiously. He brought his hand up, rubbing slow circles at his temples to chase away his growing, headache. Besides, I don't understand why he's feeling this angry just because I didn't tell him about the suitors!

The whole fight had sat oddly with Fíli now that he thought about it. He couldn't for the life of him understand his brother's explosive reaction, certainly not the way Kíli had barged into his room upon discovering about Fíli's secret admirers, his temper already dangerously flared.

Fíli pressed his the heels of his palms to his eyes and groaned. Stupid. He had been so stupid. Like the idiot that he was, he hadn't bothered to stop to think. There had to be something beyond their argument that had gotten Kíli so uncharacteristically angry even before they spoke, but what was it? Was it something to do with the way his little brother was acting so withdrawn before the celebrations?

Three dull knocks on the door effectively interrupted his mental self-flagellation. "Your Majesty," came the familiar, gruff voice of his guard, "Lord Thorin of the Iron Hills has come to pay you a visit. He is waiting by the West Entrance. Shall we let him through?"

Fíli lowered his hand and blinked owlishly at the closed door. Thorin wanted to see him? What could he possibly want?

"Uh, yes," Fíli called out, grimacing at the roughness of his voice. "Please send him through. Thanks."

"No need to thank me, your Majesty," the guard grunted. "It will just take a moment."

Fíli sank back into his chair and closed his eyes at the fading sound of the guard's footsteps. He felt marginally guilty for not spending much time with his cousin since the Suitor Problem had spiralled out of control but truth be told, he was becoming weary of Thorin's visits. It seemed that whenever the young Dwarf sought him out to chat, it was to bring some sort of warning.

The blond winced. Now there's an unpleasant thought – his cousin Thorin was some harbinger of bad luck whose sole purpose was to torment Fíli. Kind of like what that meddlesome Gandalf is to his uncle Thorin.

"Cousin Fíli?"

Speak of the Balrog and it shall appear.

"What brings you here, Thorin?" the prince answered without bothering to move. Hopefully, his cousin's business would be brief and he would go away. Fíli was far too busy moping to entertain him.

"I thought I'd pay my favourite cousin a visit! May I come in? I brought food!"

On second thought… "What did you bring?" he called out cautiously.

"…If I say bacon, will you let me in?"

Fíli perked up from his seat as his stomach gurgled hungrily at the reminder of his missed breakfast. Thorin may be the harbinger of bad luck, but he was a harbinger of bad luck with bacon. "I suppose you can come in," he replied with false reluctance. He can't have Thorin knowing just how effective his bribe was at the risk of having to endure Thorin's stupidly smug grins on his stupidly smug face. "But I reserve the right to revoke your invitation if you're lying."

Thorin opened the door with one hand, the other masterfully balancing a silver tray with a domed lid, and slipped gracefully into the room. "You are most kind, Crown Prince," his cousin said with a drawl as dry as the desert. He was looking fashionable in a red tunic, a well-fitted dark leather coat and his intricately braided hair and beard. "It's a good thing that I wasn't lying. I have a bacon sandwich and some cheese and mead for you. I also brought a bottle of wine since I wasn't sure which beverage you preferred."

He lifted the lid and handed the silver platter to Fíli, who barely muttered a quick 'Thanks' before tearing into his food like a ravenous beast. "Mahal's hammer, Cousin Fíli," Thorin leaned back and cringed in distaste, "one would think you haven't eaten in the entirety of this month!"

"I haven't eaten today!" Fíli defended between large bites of his sandwich. "I've been busy and barely had the time to sit down."

"Ah, I suppose it has something to do with the new guards posted at the hall? I was stopped by three sets of guards on my way to visit you," Thorin hummed with approval. He lowered himself in the seat across from the prince, setting aside the serving dome on a wooden stool beside him. "I imagine that that you are finally taking these actions to stop the suitors, then. I don't suppose you will need to put my plan into action?"

It took a good five seconds of confused staring on Fíli's part before he even remembered what Thorin was speaking about. Right, the plan that his cousin had first proposed. The one where he had described it as – "A horrible web of lies. That's the one you're referring to, isn't it?" Fíli lowered the uneaten crusts of his sandwich and gave his cousin a pointed look. "Thorin, your plan to stop the suitors was a terrible one that would lead to more trouble than it is worth. Honestly, how did you even come up with the idea? It almost looked like you stole it from the script of some asinine romance story."

Thorin pursed his lips, and ignoring Fíli's protests, blithely plucked the bottle of wine from Fíli's side and took a large, vindictive swig out of it. "First of all," he said after wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "the inspiration for my plan came from 'The Eternal Love Story of Fulla and Buri' which, I'll have you know, is a Dwarven masterpiece, thank you very much! Second of all," he fired an unimpressed look at the snorting blond, "who's to say that my plan wouldn't work when you haven't even tried it?"

Fíli rolled his eyes and snatched his bottle back. "The fact that you're basing real life off of some insipid play is more than worrisome, but that is neither here nor there. The situation has been resolved. I will not be needing your aid, thank you!" He cradled the bottle possessively at Thorin's grabby motion. "And no more wine for you! You finished half the bottle already!"

"Spoil sport," Thorin crossed his arms and harrumphed. "Well, now that you've taken away my chance at seeing my plan in action and the wine that I have generously offered, I find myself utterly bored with nothing to do. Although," he eyed Fíli mischievously, "I have heard that the Erebor Gardens are something worth exploring in the company of other, fine Dwarves. I've never been so I wouldn't know!"

Fíli snorted again. So that was the true purpose of Thorin's visit. "You could've easily told me that you were lonely and in desperate need of my company," he quipped teasingly before popping the rest of his sandwich in his mouth and slowly getting out of his seat.

"Me? Lonely? Pish posh! I have no idea what you're talking about," Thorin sniffed haughtily as he hopped to his feet. "I am merely suggesting that a walk through the gardens is a perfect remedy to cure my boredom. You just decided on your own to join me because my idea is brilliant."

"This is amazing!" Laughing in delight, Thorin spun around to grin widely at Fíli. His neatly braided hair was mussed by the mountain wind but he gave it no mind other than tucking a stray strand behind his ear. "I don't think I've seen anything quite like this!"

"I don't suppose any one would unless they've visited the Shire," Fíli said a few sedated paces behind his cousin. His face was turned towards the warm, golden rays of the sun. "The king had it modelled after Bilbo's homeland, although we couldn't get everything completely right. For one, none of the large trees would grow this far up in the mountains."

The garden was the newest addition to Erebor, having been built on the sunny Southeast side of the mountain on Bilbo's insistence that every respectable kingdom needed a tranquil spot to 'reflect on the beauty of nature'. Fíli could imagine just what his uncle had thought about reflecting on the beauty of anything, but he suspected that King Thorin had granted the Hobbit's request out of the need to impress Bilbo and, possibly, out of the lingering guilt over the Arkenstone debacle. This would explain why the garden mirrored so closely to the Shire with its soft rolling hills, winding dirt paths, and the lush, green shrubs that lined the roads and dotted the landscape. Once in a while, the path would fork into hidden sitting coves shrouded by thick flowering bushes, perfect for anyone seeking some peace and quiet.

Another errant breeze brushed past Fíli, carrying on its wings the sweet scent of honeysuckles. He took a deep breath. He had missed spending time outside.

"Of course, I have forgotten that Thorin's Company had visited Consort Baggins' homeland." Stopping in his stroll for Fíli to catch up to him, Thorin looked pointedly back at the other Dwarf, "What was the land of Hobbits like?"

Fíli hummed thoughtfully. "Green, grassy, hilly, indescribably peaceful and surprisingly hard to navigate through the tangled mess of roads. In fact, some of us had gotten lost twice before we could get our bearings straight."

"And the Hobbits? What were they like?"

"Strange creatures who are overly fond of food growing. Skittish towards strangers." The latter was especially true. Bilbo had reminded Fíli of a cowering little ferret the first time they had met, but the fear had quickly given way to homicidal tendencies the moment Bilbo had discovered what the Company had done to his plumbing. "When Kíli – " Fíli grimaced a little at the mention of his brother, "when he and I first set foot into the Shire, we were having some trouble remembering the instruction to get to Bilbo's house. Naturally, we decided that we should seek help from the locals instead."

It was more like Thorin and Gandalf had given them two completely different sets of directions and they weren't certain if they should trust their uncle, who was notoriously bad at navigating outside of the mountain, or Gandalf, whose tatty gray robes and horribly unkept beard did not at all lend him an air of credibility. Frankly, Gandalf was exactly like those shady characters his mother had warned him to stay away from.

Fíli chuckled under his breath and kicked a stray pebble in his path. "Of course, it hadn't helped that we kept getting Bilbo's name wrong. We went from asking for a 'Mr. Baggons' to a 'Mr. Belggons', and then to a 'Mr. Biggins', 'Mr. Beggend', and finally, we settled for 'Mr. Boggins'."

"I suppose that went superbly for you," Thorin chortled. "How did you manage to find your way to Consort Baggins' home then?"

"We…er…ran into some of the local children who saw Gandalf and knew where he had made his stop," Fíli grimaced. "They refused to show us unless we've given them a hundred bags of sweets. The girls wanted fifteen ponies."

Thorin let out a bark of laughter. "You mean to tell me that you and your brother were extorted by children?"

"Extorted is such a strong word – "

"Would you prefer 'coerced', or maybe 'strong-armed' –"

"It was more of a deal that we made," Fíli stressed, feeling his cheeks warm. "The children settled for a bag of sweets, a few piggyback rides, and a short demonstration on swordplay." Fíli paused and grumbled out, "And braiding lessons for the girls. They wanted braids like mine."

Thorin blinked, his lips twitching. "Braiding lessons," he repeated. A few chuckles escaped, growing in frequency and volume, and then, as if the floodgate has suddenly been opened, Thorin positively keeled over in guffaws.

"They wouldn't tell us where Gandalf went otherwise! And it was better than giving them fifteen ponies!" Fíli defended.

But Thorin was not having it. "Braiding lessons," the other Dwarf gasped, "with wee little Hobbit lasses! Because they wanted pretty braids like yours! Prince Fíli, the Golden Lion of Erebor, extorted by children into giving braiding lessons and piggyback rides!"

Fíli's cheeks were glowing at this point. "It wasn't extortion!"

"This little tidbit should have been included in those songs singing praises to your adventure! This is too precious!"

"Thank the Maker it wasn't." Fíli threw his cousin a fierce glare, "And don't you dare add this to the songs either!"

Thorin wiped the corners of his eyes. "Your secret is safe with me," he said, laying his right hand over his heart. "However," his eyes sparkling and mischievous, "I may be further persuaded to keep silent if your Majesty will teach me the noble art of hair braiding." He dissolved back into laughter.

Growling, Fíli plucked a berry from a nearby shrub and lobbed it at his cousin. It sailed through the air and splattered between Thorin's eyes.

Thorin jerked back, his laughter abruptly cut off as he stared, poleaxed, at a chuckling Fíli. "Oh, you did not," he growled out and wiped the juice running down the bridge of his nose. He reached for the shrubs behind him and grabbed a fistful of berries.

Fíli cursed and dove for cover behind the bushes as multiple berries sailed harmlessly over his head. "Too slow, Thorin!" he cried out, stripping a fresh fistful of berries from the branches and returned fire.

"Those were merely warning shots, Cousin!" Thorin poked his head out from his refuge behind the shrubs across the dirt road from Fíli. "I have no intention to miss –" He yelped when his forehead was hit yet again. "Stop aiming at my face!"

"Learn to duck, Thorin!" Fíli peaked over the bushes, threw another slew of berries with deadly accuracy, and dove for a new hiding spot. The cry of outrage was music to his ears. "Or better yet, learn to talk less!"

"I take back my promise!" Thorin yelled, chucking berries, leaves and small bits of twigs at Fíli's general direction. Most landed harmlessly a few feet away from his target. "The moment I am free, I will do nothing but sing of Prince Fíli's and his extortion by – ack!"

"Got you again!" Fíli cowed triumphantly, "I must say Thorin, I wasn't expecting you to have such poor aim!"

Fíli was met with the sound of rustling leaves and then silence.

"Thorin?" Still crouching, Fíli waited a few seconds. When no answer was forthcoming, he slowly pushed away the foliage to peer through the open gap.

No sign of Thorin.

What was the little bastard planning?

Fíli had just enough time to register the sound of rustling leaves and his cousin Thorin – red juice running down his face, murder in his eyes – barrelling through the shrubs like a charging bull before Fíli was tackled harshly to the ground.

"Oof!" Fíli wheezed out, landing on his back with the heavy weight of Thorin straddling him.

"I'd like to see how well you can brag with a face full of berries!" Thorin cowed out, his left hand pinning Fíli down by his right shoulder while his other hand was raised to smear berry pulp over Fíli's cheeks. As quick as a flash, Fíli jabbed his fingers into the left side of Thorin's ribs and taking advantage of Thorin's surprised yelp, rolled over to pin his larger cousin down in his own straddle hold. Thorin refused to go down without a fight; he thrashed about so violently that Fíli was thrown off the brunet with a cry, once again landing on his back. He quickly rolled to his feet and scurried out of reach.

"Charging at me like that was cheating!" Fíli accused, but he was grinning ear-to-ear.

"All's fair in love and war!" Thorin quipped back and made ready to pounce.

Fíli stumbled backwards, but the back of his legs caught the shrub behind him and he fell back. Surprised, he reached forward in time to grab a fistful of Thorin's tunic and they both crashed into the plant in an inelegant sprawl of tangled limbs.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow," Fíli winced at the sharp ache running along his back. He was going to bruise something vicious. Thorin's dead weight over his body was not helping either. "Oy," he glanced down at the top of his cousin's head, "do you mind getting off? You're heavy!"

"No," came Thorin's muffled voice with a distinct whiny undertone. Fíli winced again when the other Dwarf tightened his grip around Fíli's waist and buried his face into his tunic. "I hurt, I stink of berry juice, and I am horribly dishevelled. I blame everything on you."

Indeed, Thorin had seen better days. His fashionable clothing was horribly stained and wrinkled, and his neatly styled hair looked more like a rat's nest. Fíli tried valiantly not to laugh.

"If you hadn't tackled me, you wouldn't nearly be in as bad of a state as you are now," Fíli reasoned. He gently prodded the side of Thorin's head. "You are just as much to blame for this."

Thorin lifted his head up, half of his face was smeared in red, but to Fíli's surprise, he was smirking triumphantly. "Yes, but at least I won't be the only one scrubbing berry juice off of my person. My revenge is swift and just, dear Cousin."

Confused, Fíli blinked down at the new red stain on his chest exactly over the spot where Thorin was nuzzling. "Urgh! You did that on purpose! I should have known!"

"Yes, I did!" Thorin cackled without remorse. "And I'll do it again if – oh," his eyes widened as his gaze shifted at something behind Fíli. The prince tried to twist his head to see what it was. "Apologies Cousin Kíli, Master Elf. I hope we weren't too disruptive."

Fíli felt his whole body tense. Master Elf. Tauriel was here.

"I would appreciate," came Kíli's voice as cold as the arctic wind, "if you can kindly get off of my brother."

AN: Next chapter - jealousy raising its ugly, ugly head.

On a random note, I had to google if honeysuckles grew in European mountains on the assumption that Erebor has a similar climate as the mountains in Germany. That was my attempt to ensure that this chapter was not completely full of crap. For the two of you out there who care, you'll be pleased to know that they do indeed grow on mountains. I also googled berries that grew in European mountains, a recipe on making bacon sandwiches (because I got hungry after writing that scene), and how to best break free from a straddle hold. Whoever is spying on my internet searches is probably having a field day.

Apologies for the massive delay. I write whenever I have the spare time to do so which, sadly, is rather lacking due to school. I will do my damndest to finish this story though even if I may be a bit slow on the updates. Fili deserves more love and I hope that this fic will be able to satisfy my own want to see him in the lime light.

Thank you so much for reading and for your patience, as always. It means the world to me to know that you are enjoying this piece.