HEADNOTES: I haven't used my ffnet account in years. Please refer to my AO3 account for updated content (If the hyperlink doesn't work, my user name there is bgtea)

"I have heard some interesting rumours, ones that sounded a bit…extraordinary to me. I was hoping you could help shed some light on them."

Kíli said all of this a little too nonchalantly for Fíli's liking when they gathered for dinner. At Bilbo's request, Uncle Thorin had opted for a quieter dinner that evening to spend time with family and members from the Company. This made for a more informal affair as everyone crowded together around a big rectangular table full of cheer and mirth (and plenty of meat dishes, to Bilbo's dismay), just like how they were when they had started their journey in Bag-End a lifetime ago.

Seated at their table across from them was Uncle Thorin, Bilbo and Cousin Thorin, but the three were currently too deep into their conversation to pay attention to Fíli or Kíli.

Fíli suspected that the timing of Kíli's question was intentional on his brother's part. He sighed and put down his spoon.

"Alright, what is it? Out with it, Kee."

That was all the permission Kíli apparently needed because he quickly dropped his pretence of casually enjoying his stew and leaned forward, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Is it true," he started, his voice low as if he was whispering some terrible secret, "that you saw Cousin Thorin in trouble today? Because he was accosted by a few Dwarves?"

Fíli gave his brother a curious look. "Yes?"

"You then became so incensed that you proceeded to charge forward with your swords unsheathed? And when the Dwarves saw you enraged, they went white as a sheet and surrendered, all the while pleading for their lives?"

Really, was this the narrative that was going around the kingdom now? Fíli was expecting some embellishment but that was a bit of dramatic retelling. "Kíli, those four Dwarves threatened Cousin Thorin. I heard them with my own ears. Of course I jumped in to defend him. What else was I supposed to do?"

"But you drew your twin swords?" Kíli pressed, "You only draw those on orcs and things that are actually threatening and not, not." He made a vague little dismissive gesture, "frumpy courtiers who have more pride than good sense. And afterwards, you had them imprisoned while threatening to have them executed."

Fíli leaned back and crossed his arms, unimpressed. "First of all, there were four of them, and I wasn't sure what weapons they had on them, nor was I sure what they were going to do then! Second of all, what they were doing amounted to treason and I had asked Uncle to be the arbiter of those Dwarves' fate. As far as I'm concern, I am being beyond fair!"

Uncle Thorin had been equally unimpressed with those Dwarves. He may not go so far as to order an execution, at least not until he, Cousin Thorin, and Lord Dáin had the opportunity to speak more thoroughly, but Uncle Thorin certainly did not feel inclined to release those Dwarves from the dungeon any time soon. And good riddance!

Kíli floundered a bit before a sour expression settled on his face. "But what about you proclaiming to be Cousin Thorin's champion?"

"Oh, for the love of – " Fíli did not bother hiding his eye roll. Was this what Kíli really wanted to ask about? Something was telling him that the answer was a resounding yes. "I merely reminded people that threatening a royal family member was a bad idea, and that I will fight anyone I catch being stupid enough to do that! I fail to see how that statement is problematic."

The sour look on Kíli's face only intensified. "I heard what the soldier said. He said that according to the prince's proclamation, if anyone were to touch a single strand of Cousin Thorin's hair, or muss up one of his stupid braids, then that person should expect a slow, gruesome death under the strikes of your twin fangs. How is that not a declaration of you being his champion?"

"That is not what I said!" Fíli balked. "At most, I reminded people that should they threaten Cousin Thorin, they would have to face me, but that hardly equates to…to…whatever flowery declaration you just uttered! Besides, why are you so frustrated? I thought you agreed with my plan to provide more support to Cousin Thorin!"

"Yes, support! But, not like that!" Kíli made a frustrated noise. "I meant stroll around the gardens and be seen talking to him, maybe walk around the markets a little! Act friendly, but not act like you are his…his meat shield! I just, I…" Kíli crossed his arms over his chest, hunching a little. "This is uncharacteristic of you," he mumbled and scowled at his stew. "It isn't like you to act this brashly."

To be honest, Fíli still wasn't entirely sure why Kíli was so upset. Perhaps he was worried that Fíli was hurting his reputation by acting like an uncharacteristic damn fool? Or maybe, he was worried that Fíli was deliberately putting himself in harm's way, especially for Cousin Thorin, whom Kíli clearly disliked.

Those had to be the reasons. Why else would Kíli get so worked up?

Fíli supposed that he could be…more gracious and be more patient towards his brother's confounding behaviour. He only meant well.

"Kee," Fíli sighed and reached over to give his brother a playful nudge. "I might have been a bit heavy-handed with my actions today, but I did what I thought was right at the time. It was a good thing I intervened too. Can you imagine how much worse it would have been if Cousin Thorin had ended up being hurt in Erebor? And under our protection no less? This was the only way I could think of to stop current and future threats."

But more than that, perhaps what had triggered Fíli the most was the fact that Cousin Thorin had merely stood there like an idiot in the face of abuse.

He had stood there with his stupid grin and his stupid effort to appear non-threatening so that he could talk his way out of trouble, his instinct for diplomacy overriding his instinct for self-defence.

He did not even have the self-preservation to run as those Iron Hills Dwarves surrounded him, acrid malice underlying every word that was spat out and hatred gleaming in their eyes.

It was a sobering and terrifying realization; his idiot cousin, for all of his scheming ways, has a combat instinct of a worm when it came to dealing with his own kinsmen. His talkative, annoying little shit-head of a cousin was…oddly vulnerable. And then that same cousin went and pled for his would-be assailant's clemency. Why would he - why would anyone - ?

This was unacceptable on multiple levels.

Luckily, Fíli had been there, and if there was one thing Fíli was exceptional at, it was fighting. So, if Thorin could not or would not step up to defend himself, then Fíli would make it his personal mission to do so for him. He would happily consider this as a favour returned for all the trouble he put his cousin through, including the Banquet.

His gaze fell onto Cousin Thorin, who, upon sensing Fíli's stare, looked up from his meal to give him a quick glance over. Then, with a widening grin, Cousin Thorin gave a cheeky wink and a little wave.

Fíli let out a huff of exasperation. Little brat. He seemed to have recovered from the mess unscathed and unbothered. He did return the wave with one on his own though, a weak little twitch of his fingers, but it made Cousin Thorin's face light up even more.

When he turned his attention back to his brother, it was to a stormy expression on Kíli's face.

"I don't like him," Kíli spat out darkly. "Despite the kindness he has shown you, despite my suggestion that you should show your support of him, I still don't like him."

Well, that was no surprise to Fíli. He still never understood why his brother was so adamant on holding onto his grudge against Cousin Thorin, but he supposed that it was probably the same dislike he felt towards the el – Tauriel, so he had no leg to stand on.

"I know, I know," Kíli grumbled in the ensuing silence. "I said I will try to be more understanding, but I just," Kíli shrugged a little helplessly, his scowl continuing to mar his expression. He looked as grumpy as a beardling who had eaten an unpleasant plate of sour grapes. "I simply do not like him. And I hate it more that you have declared yourself as his champion. You should not have to act like his shield. Better yet, you should not be associated with that riff-raff."

Fíli tried not to chuckle at that. Riff-raff? He could think of many words he would use to describe Cousin Thorin (overly fussy, aggravating, dramatic, pedantic), but not riff-raff. "Again, I have not declared myself as his champion. At most, I have merely insinuated that I will come to Cousin Thorin's defence if need be, which was the least I could do given he is our cousin and our guest."

Kíli looked a bit skeptical, but his frown lessened. "Really? If need be?"

"I doubt Cousin Thorin would want me to step into a situation he could handle by himself," Fíli reasoned, his tone dry. "So yes, if need be and only as a last resort."

"Hmn, well, there's not much we can do at this point. I suppose it'll have to do," Kíli grudgingly acquiesced. "And don't let that snake take advantage of your generosity either! If he does, I have no qualms in stepping in to settle the matter!"

Fíli chuckled and reached a hand to muss up Kíli's hair, ignoring his squawked outrage. "I have no doubt you would do just that. Thanks, Kíli."

He knew he had promised Kíli to not interfere unless it was the last resort but he could not resist.

As he and Thorin (the latter dressed to the nine as usual with hair appropriately adorned with shining mithril beads) ventured their way to the gardens, it was rather hard not to notice the drop in volume that trailed behind them, and the prickling, tell-tale sensation of being stared at by a dozen or so curious Dwarves.

Slowly, while still nodding to his cousin's yammering to show that he was paying attention (he wasn't), Fíli casually brought his left hand over the hilt of his sword, letting it ghost over the pommel a few seconds too long for the movement to be entirely innocent.

Then, he casted a quick, knowing side glance, squinting his eyes just a little into a judgmental glare at the group of Dwarves unfortunate enough to have clustered within his line of sight.

As if by magic, he could feel the collective weight of eyes lift from their persons.

Fíli fought back the urge to smirk. It felt nice to have finally wrestled some control back after having spent so long being the one who was hunted by those vultures.

"I see that you're having fun, at least!"

Fíli gave the other a sheepish look. Of course Cousin Thorin noticed. At least he did not seem to mind, judging by the way his lips are curled into smile, bemused.

"You do realize that the more you act like an overprotective mother hen, the more the Dwarves would talk, right?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I was merely taking in the sights of Bilbo's hard work," Fíli lied, poorly. Cousin Thorin also did not buy it if his raised brow of skepticism was anything to go by. "Those are some nice…trees that were recently planted. Very…er…stout and green and leafy?"

"Those are shrubs but nice try," Cousin Thorin rebuffed, which was ridiculous in on itself. As if he was any authority on plants! "Would it be too late for me to remind you that I can, in fact, weather the storm of my gossiping brethren? Not that I do not appreciate having the Lion of Erebor charging to my aid every time I am inconvenienced." He chuckled at the pained answering groan from Fíli. "Yes, yes, you are not enthused by your title, but what I said stands."

"I wasn't charging to your aid every time. I charged to your aid that one time," Fíli groused. "It was a good thing I did too. It sure did not look like you were weathering the storm well when those four Dwarves had you surrounded. How many more Dwarves were out there threatening you before then?"

Cousin Thorin gave Fíli a side look. "And how would you know that I was being threatened by other Dwarves?"

Fíli stopped himself before he accidentally blurted out that he had thoroughly interrogated one of Thorin's servants for the information. Or the fact that he knew Cousin Thorin was trying to hide those threatening letters from him. He suspected that Cousin Thorin would not take kindly to his snooping.

He did not school his expression fast enough though.

"What? Why are you making that expression? Why are you so twitchy and shifty all of a sudden?" Thorin leaned closer and gave Fíli a suspicious look. "You know something. What do you know?"

Fíli coughed into his fist. "I know that you have the self-preservation of a moth flying directly into an open flame. As for how I knew you were being threatened by other Dwarves, I took an educated guess. I'm not deaf to the disgruntled murmurings, you know."

"I do have self-preservation instincts!" Cousin Thorin said, affronted. "I'll have you know that those instincts served me well for many years when I needed to talk my way out of a problem!"

"Uh huh. Were those the same instincts that told you to stand still like a fool while you were threatened by those four Dwarves the other day?"

"Just because I did not have the chance to react before you barged in does not mean I deserve this level of merciless judgment from you," Cousin Thorin tsked and crossed his arms, turning his head away with a dramatic toss of his hair that had Fíli rolling his eyes.

"At least I helped resolve the issue," Fíli pointed out. He paused and frowned. "You…aren't being threatened anymore, are you?"

Cousin Thorin huffed. "No, the efforts certainly cooled overnight. Congratulations, your proclamation was heard loud and clear by the Dwarves of Erebor and Iron Hills."

Fíli choked. "And Iron Hills?"

"Of course! I was not exaggerating when I said my brethren are gossipy!"

Dear Mahal, Fíli knew his action had fed the rumor mills but he wasn't anticipating it to create that much of a wave. He had merely said that if anyone were to pick on Cousin Thorin, they'd have to fight him first. Were Kíli and Cousin Thorin not exaggerating when they said that the Dwarves were taking this as his declaration to act as Cousin Thorin's champion?

"Getting second thoughts, are we?" Cousin Thorin said, giving him a knowing look. "While I appreciate your gesture, I can understand that perhaps, you were a bit…unprepared with how quickly things are starting to snowball out of control. If you want to escape, I can probably think up a plan –"

"No," Fíli shook his head and pressed his lips in thin lines, displeased. "I said what I said, and I meant it. If the other Dwarves choose to gossip and construe my message differently, then that's on them. The most important part to all this is that you are left alone."

Because if there was one massive lesson that Fíli had learned in the past few months was that courtesans would always gossip. This was as inevitable as the River Running burgeoning with fresh cold water every spring to the point of flooding the lower plains at the base of the mountain. Or as inevitable as Thranduil being an arse within five minutes of meeting Uncle Thorin. Fíli would be a fool to change the way he acted, to bend his morals, just to appease those gossiping Dwarves.

He certainly was not going to yield now, not when he knew he was doing the right thing.

"Of course you would dig in your heels," Cousin Thorin shook his head with a wry smile, but there was fondness in his eyes, and perhaps, a look of relief as well. It only made Fíli more certain of his decision. "I do not expect anything less."

That was probably one of the most flattering compliments Cousin Thorin had said to Fíli. Fíli, predictably, flushed in response and looked away awkwardly.

"If you're going to be stalking my every move, I suppose I might as well make the best out of this situation," Cousin Thorin added after a few minutes of peaceful silence. "I have always been meaning to explore Dale, now that it is in the process of being rebuilt. Originally, I was planning on a miniature excursion with my fellow Iron Hill Dwarves and Dwarrodams, but well," Cousin Thorin trailed off with a shrug. "Perhaps this turned out for the best. After all, I traded gossipy members of my court for the Lion of Erebor himself! I cannot say I am displeased with that unexpected victory!"

"Again with that terrible title even after I have explicitly told you to stop using it. Next time, I am going to let those Dwarves take you."

"That was rude," Cousin Thorin rebuffed with a bright grin, "but I am not hearing a 'no' though!"

"No, absolutely not!" Kíli exclaimed when Fíli recalled his conversation with Cousin Thorin the next morning during breakfast. Kíli had stood up in his outrage, almost spilling the bowl of oatmeal all over the table in the way he had jumped out of his seat to protest. "That trouble maker is already the target of his brethren's ire and now he wants to venture out with you as his meat shield? His recklessness is deliberately putting you in danger! His ego knows no bound!"

Fíli, who was sitting across the table, picking at his plate of eggs, could only breathe a long sigh. Of course his brother would object to this. He barely agreed to have Fíli spend time strolling in the garden with Cousin Thorin, and even that small activity had been met with immense pushback. Why was Fíli not surprised that the idea of travelling with Cousin Thorin would be firmly vetoed, especially when the travelling party was essentially limited to Cousin Thorin, himself and a handful of guards?

"It's just a short trip to Dale, Kee. There's hardly enough travelling to be done for there to be danger."

"That is how they get you, Fee!" Kíli countered with a glower. "They lure you into a false sense of security."

Who even is the they in this scenario?

"Look, I will speak with Dwalin to ensure that we bring adequate guards with us," Fíli tried to appease. "Will that make you feel better?"

Kíli looked the opposite of being comforted; he glared at his mug of tea even harder, his expression uncharacteristically fierce.

"I'm coming with you."

Fíli blinked. "Pardon?"

"I'm coming with you!" Kíli repeated, and Fíli knew that it was impossible to argue with his brother, considering the stubborn set of his jaw. "Another pair of eyes cannot hurt, and I will certainly feel much more at ease being there myself."

Fíli sighed and barely resisted the urge to rub his temples. He did take a long sip of his tea though.

It wasn't an unreasonable counterproposal. Kíli could have been much, much more stubborn and pushy. Besides, Kíli had a point, another pair of eyes certainly would not hurt, especially when that pair of eyes belonged to one of the best archers in the kingdom.

"Fine, fine. We can treat it like one of our adventures. It has been a while since we were able to venture beyond Erebor anyway. Some fresh air would do wonders for the both of us, I think."

Having thought that the matter was firmly settled, Fíli did not spare another thought on who would be attending the excursions. That was until the party met near the gates in the morning a few days later, and Tauriel came strolling casually towards the group right beside Kíli, horse and gear in tow.

Fíli could hear his thoughts come to a screeching halt at the sight.

Oh, for the love of Mahal. Please, please, please don't let the she-Elf be a member of this party.

The thought made him a tad guilty; he had promised Kíli that he would be kinder, but at the same time…he just couldn't keep the disdain from tainting his thoughts every time he caught sight of her, not when vivid memories of the intimate moment she and Kíli shared at the training grounds kept flashing before his eyes.

"Kíli?" he asked, trying to keep his tone even despite the grimace he was desperately fighting to keep off of his face. "I did not know you were bringing a guest."

The term 'guest' was the politest word he managed to select from the repertoire of truly mean alternatives floating in his head.

Kíli gave Fíli a hopeful, tentative smile. "You don't mind, do you, Fee? I thought it would be polite to invite Miss Tauriel along since she was also curious about Dale and its reconstruction. I figured that having two archers in the party wouldn't hurt."

"No, no, of course not!" Cousin Thorin slid beside Fíli and chimed in, bright and cheery. It was a good thing he interjected then because Fíli wasn't sure he could've refrained from expressing his dislike. "After all, as the saying goes, the more the merrier!"

He gave Miss Tauriel a small, polite bow. "We meet again, Miss Elf! I hope you are doing well since the last time we ran into each other!"

"Master Dwarf," Tauriel greeted back with a small smile and a graceful nod, but despite her expression being reserved, her eyes were soft and the way she held herself was loose, languid, and relaxed. "Thank you for the invitation and well met."

Thorin gave a nod, his grin widening. "Well, if we are all ready to depart, we might as well get started! Time's a wasting!"

There was a certain wild, rugged beauty that Erebor and its surroundings imbue. Where the gates lie was a wall of tall, rugged cliffs of cold, grey stones that tower over the land before it, decorated with grand carvings of great kings of old. They casted their long shadows across the reedy, tall grass carpeting the southern valley, stretching for miles and miles as far as the eyes can see. Around them was the fresh scent of grass and cool pine, carried by great winds blowing from the east. But the rustling of the wind and other sounds from nature were nearly drowned out by the constant roar of the white waterfall cascading from Erebor's entrance.

With every meter they gallop away from the mountain, the roaring gets quieter, and slowly, Fíli could pick up more and more of the sound of life around him – the shrieks of the birds of prey, cutting through the air above them, the rustling of grass as small creatures scurry away to safety at the rumbling, thundering horse hooves approaching their way, the low hum of insects flitting from plant to plant.

Fíli was as entranced as he was when he had first set foot in the valley what seemed like a lifetime ago. The sky before them had been the same, vivid blue, streaked with whispy white clouds, the air had the same crisp and clean quality to it. And the land before him had held the promise of new things, of adventure.

As much as he loved his home in all its splendor, comfort, and feeling of safety, he truly missed this sense of openness and freedom his old life had afforded him. He missed being able to feel like he was just Fíli and not Fíli, the crown prince of Erebor.

It was a shame that this trip was tainted by a certain undesired individual who shoehorned her way in at the very last second.

"I hope you didn't mind my response to Miss Tauriel back there. I thought it would upset Cousin Kíli had I refused."

Fíli glanced at his cousin, who had steered his horse beside his. Now that he was paying attention, and to his surprise, Cousin Thorin was actually wearing practical gear – a thick gray speckled fur coat, cinched closed with a trusty leather belt, a pair of warm leggings tucked into sturdy leather boots, and a warm gray-furred cap over his head, hiding most of his braids and beads.

"No, I understand," Fíli answered with a shrug, keeping his voice low least the wind carry his words to his brother and the Elf, who were riding off to the side. "I just…wasn't expecting her is all. Caught me a bit off guard."

Thorin gave him a sly look. "I am sure that your disdain towards the lady Elf had nothing to do with your reluctance to invite her."

Fíli winced. "Was I being that obvious?"

"No, no. Your response was prim and proper," Thorin reassured, "I've just been spending too much time with you to pick up on your cues. I've also seen you grimace at the sight of her in the past. I am curious to know why you dislike her so much. Afterall, for the most part, you are ridiculously forgiving and mellow. For you to find someone that rub you the wrong way…why, that individual has to be extraordinarily annoying!"

Fíli wondered if he should tell Cousin Thorin that he himself had been one of those "extraordinarily annoying people". Thorin probably already knew, but was probably too shameless to care.

"You're not the first person who asked me that," Fíli confessed, recalling his conversation with Bilbo a while back, when he and his brother were still fighting. "Bilbo thinks I'm taking my frustrating towards myself out on her."

"Frustration? Of what?"

Of his inadequacy to help his brother in his time of need, of feeling like he was being replaced by someone so thoroughly that for the longest time, he wasn't sure where he even stood in his brother's life anymore.

But all that should be water under the bridge by now. He and Kee had worked through their problems and had recognized that they were both being asses. They had promised they'd be kinder to each other. They were talking again, spending more time together.

Things should be back to normal.

And yet…

Fíli glanced at his brother. Kíli was tossing his back as a bright peel of laughter rang out. His braids, though originally neatly tied, have somehow become a windswept mess of brown locks trailing loose behind him. His hair almost shine auburn under the sun, the hints of fire red bringing out the rosiness of his cheeks. Next to him rode the Elf, who was leaning towards him, whispering something that made Kíli fire back a comment with a mischievous grin and sparkling eyes.

It was the oddest thing; seeing Kíli next to Tauriel, side by side and so at ease with each other, Fíli was struck by fresh pangs to his heart but also with the realization of just how much his brother had grown. Gone was the shy Dwarf who had blushed and stammered when he tried to work up the courage to speak with someone outside of the family. Even the innocent youth Fíli had known before they had embarked on the adventure was gone. Instead, there stood Kíli, bright, exuberant, but with new found sense of confidence, riding side by side with the Elf he was trying to court, still messy, still wild, but with a touch of worldliness and steel that weren't present before.

Above all else, the newfound sense of maturity was doing wonders with making him appear even more handsome, more radiant, and the truth of that thought was so jarring, that Fíli had to look away, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment. What in Mahal's name was that observation?

But even more distressing, where did all of that leave Fíli?

"Cousin Fíli?"

Fíli shook his head. "I – uh, sorry. I got lost in my train of thought. We were talking about what Bilbo said, right? He thought I was frustrated from that fight Kíli and I had, and also from feeling snubbed. It's not an issue anymore though, Kíli and I talked."

"Are you sure that that is the only reason?" Thorin asked with a frown after a moment of silence. "If that is the case, then shouldn't you stop feeling disdainful towards Miss Tauriel once the fight is over?"

Fíli shrugged. "I don't know. Lingering effects maybe? What, do you think it's something else?"

"I think that it is worthwhile for you to reflect a little deeper on why you feel the way you feel," Thorin said, rather cryptically. "I suspect that there is another source for your frustration, but I do not wish to influence your thoughts and emotions by telling what my hypothesis is. Rest assured, Cousin, I will help you on your journey to self-discovery!"

With a friendly clap of his shoulder and a wink, Cousin Thorin made his horse trot a little faster, leaving Fíli alone to digest those parting words.

Now what could Cousin Thorin possibly mean by that?

The old cobblestone road to Dale was one of the first things to be reconstructed when trade was restored. This lead to a smooth, uninterrupted ride lasting at most three hours from the gates of Erebor even at the sedated pace the party was travelling. But perhaps because it had been so peaceful that Fíli found his attention kept being drawn to his brother. It had the unintended effect of providing him with front row seats to seeing just how loving and happy Kíli was with the Elf, how much blushing they do, and how often they sneak little kisses when they think nobody was looking.

It certainly left a bad taste in the mouth and plenty more flaring aches to his chest. After three hours of that, the pale city walls of Dale looked very much like paradise to Fíli.

With the renewed trade agreements in place, Dale was becoming once again a bastion for travellers from all corners of the world either passing through for a quick break before heading off to their next destinations, or those looking to set up new businesses in the growing city. Even though the city was partially restored, the streets that were fixed were filled with people donning all manners of vibrant clothes made from different material and cuts. Some of the styles were so distinctly foreign, Fíli could not pinpoint their origins. Colourful stalls line the streets, selling all manners of goods. Fíli even recognized a couple of stalls that have a distinct Ereborian flare to them on their way to the stables to drop off their horses. It brought a smile to his lips to see traces of home all around him.

Amongst the throng of people of different shapes and sizes, nobody gave the (mostly) Dwarven party a second glance, especially when none of the party members dressed in a manner that made them stood out. Fíli supposed it made sense given they were a stone throw away from Erebor, so the sight of Dwarves were as common as the thrushes perched along the city wall. Still, the lack of attention made Fíli let loose a sigh of relief that he hadn't noticed he was holding in.

Thorin did not have the same concerns. Instead, he was positively brimming with excitement, giving off the same energy as a beardling who was shown the mines for the first time ever. "Look, Cousin Fíli!" he cried, gesturing to a stall with blue and silver awning, "they have books! I wonder if they have anything I can add to my collection? Do you think they carry the latest volume of A Walk to Remembeard? Or maybe The Young and the Bearded?"

"Please do not say those titles out loud, I don't think I can survive the humiliation. Also, of all the things to be excited about, of course it is romance novels that capture your – oy! Don't just wander off on your own! At the very least slow down!"

"Is he always like that?" Kíli sidled up to Fíli and asked as they trailed after Cousin Thorin. "I don't think I have ever seen him so…genuinely happy? I would have never believed that Thorin Stonehelm was such a fan of literary works."

"Literary works you say, bah!" Fíli grumbled. When he saw his brother's confused expression, he cleared his throat. "Ah, this is probably one of the rare instances where he is more…excitable than usual. Normally, he is much more contained." And because he couldn't contain his morbid curiosity, he added, "Where's, uh, Miss Tauriel?"

After all, his brother had spent the last three hours completely focused on the she-Elf. It was odd for him to not be beside her right this instance as well. Fíli tried not to dwell on the surge of irritation bubbling up his chest at the mere thought of it.

"Tauriel got distracted," Kíli answered with a chuckle. He gestured to the stall beside the one Cousin Thorin was enthusiastically perusing, it appeared to be stock full of bows, knives, and daggers. "She too can get pretty immersed into her shopping so I tend to just," he mimed walking off with his fingers.

The two stood side by side, watching Thorin and Tauriel seemingly inspect every piece of goods on the table. Thorin, in particular, was chatting with the bookseller in between his browsing. Fíli would bet his two swords that this chat would inevitably devolve into a lengthy, heated debate about character development, or writing style, or interpretation of certain themes in stories that, in Fíli's humble opinion, probably had as much depths as a puddle.

This was…going to take a while.

Kíli must have reached the same conclusion because he gave Fíli a side glance and said, "Do you want to…" He looked to the road leading towards the market square and casually jerked his head towards that direction.

"Oh, dear Mahal, yes."

Without another word, the two wandered away from the stalls, making sure to keep their pace slow so that the two guards, who peeled off from their group, could easily accompany them from a distance.

The market square was, thankfully, less crowded than the stall-lined streets, but was lively enough just the same with the constant flow of bustling vendors moving from shop to shop. At the middle stood a beautiful fountain carved of shining white marble featuring an archer with his bow drawn, no doubt an homage to King Bard's heroic feat for slaying Smaug.

As Fíli and Kíli walked closer towards the fountain, they could make out a crowd surrounding a band of musicians playing a lively tune. The sound of fiddles, flutes, harps and drums filled the air, and Fíli could recognize the songs being played – they were the more popular songs he had heard in pubs, ones that had gotten the pubgoers joining in on sing-alongs. It was no different here; the spectators seemed to be greatly enjoying the show, most were either clapping or singing along or had partnered up for an impromptu dance filled with stomping feet, glides and turns.

"Doesn't that look like fun, Fee?" Kíli said, elbowing Fíli gently. "Reminds me of the good old days back in the Blue Mountains, huh?"

"We spent so much time at The Stoneforge," Fíli chuckled. "We probably helped fund the expansion of that tavern!"

"Oh, I don't know about that. Balin had to pay the barkeep to keep us out during the day to stop us from skipping our lessons. That couldn't have been cheap."

The music was reaching a crescendo, and the crowd was becoming rowdier. More and more dancers were cropping up everywhere, the spectators having long stepped further back to make room for them as they twirl and spin in a cacophony of colours and movement. Those from the sideline would cheer loudly whenever someone executed a particularly impressive step, or would egg their dancing friends on into adding another spin, another jump into their moves. It was chaos, it was rowdy, and Fíli hadn't felt this level of jubilation in a long time, not since the celebration of Smaug's defeat.

"Hm, I think we can take them," Kíli said with a roguish grin, rubbing his chin. He extended a hand out to Fíli. "Do you want to show these amateurs what years and years of practice at The Stoneforge look like?"

Fíli laughed and took Kíli's hand. "They won't know what hit them."

Kíli merely flashed him a cocky look and led him through the crowd without further ado.

Kíli was not even exaggerating when he said they had years and years of practice. In their wayward youths, Fíli and Kíli had spent many drunken evenings frolicking about at taverns making asses of themselves. To say that they have become well-versed in all the popular songs and the dances that go with them would be an understatement, and compounded by years of spending side-by-side being so familiar with each other's every move, they make a truly formidable dancing team.

Fíli only needed a split second – a glance at Kíli's hand and the way he was shifting his weight – to know just what his brother was about to do. He effortlessly followed, moving in perfect harmony to Kíli's moves, letting him take the lead. He let Kíli spin him around, a laugh taking over his face at the way Kíli's eyes lit up further. The spin transitioned into a complicated series of side steps and half turns with Fíli mirroring Kíli's movements seamlessly, and going by the 'oohs' and 'ahhs' from the crowd around them, their viewers were appreciating the show.

But Fíli's attention was only on Kíli, on the graceful way his body twisted and turned, the fluidity of his gestures despite the broadness of his frame and the sturdiness of his shoulders, the growing flush of his skin and the rosiness on the apples of his cheek, all of which enhanced the loveliness of his smile and the way his eyes were practically sparkling in sheer delight. Kíli was happiness incarnate, alive and brimming with energy and strong, and very much Fíli's better half. Nothing would make Fíli happier if he could keep Kíli by his side like this for as long as he could, to have him by his side on good days and bad, on mundane mornings and tired evenings, and many more days after those. Fíli just wanted to keep Kíli, to have him to himself, his bright presence, his handsome smile, his stubbornness, his recklessness, his adoration… Fíli just so desperately wanted.

He wanted. He…he wanted.

The realization that flowed from the conviction of his feelings was like being splashed by the cold, cold water from River Running. It felt like Fíli was being sucker punched, and all the air in his lungs left him in one fell swoop. Oh.

Oh.

The dance ended and the crowd around them erupted into applause. Kíli laughed and grabbed his hand, and together, they bowed.

All Fíli could pay attention to was Kíli's hand, the strength of those fingers curling against his, and the warmth that he could still feel bleed through their thin gloves.

END NOTES

Mannn, many many thanks to anyone who's still sticking around for this fic. Not going to lie, but I was definitely losing steam on this fic a while back, mainly cause I couldn't quite work out some of the plot stuff and how I wanted to write certain character growth. Between my RL seriously kicking my ass, my own frustrations towards this fic, and me being distracted by shiny new fandoms, this fic definitely got punted to the back burner.

It probably would have stayed there longer if it wasn't for Suxr, who literally showed up one day and was like, "Here are all the wonderful amazing art! And here's more!" So yeah, massive thanks to Suxr for single-handedly resuscitating my motivation to keep going with this fic. This chapter is definitely dedicated to you, haha!

I still intend to finish this fic since I don't want to leave things unfinished. I'm hoping that this newfound motivation will hold so that I can hash out quicker updates. Also, as an FYI, I rewrote parts of Chapter 9 because plot hole reasons.

As always, thank you all so much for reading and reviewing.

Author's Notes:
[1] I was trying to figure out the distance between Erebor and Dale, and unfortunately, J.R.R. Tolkien did not provide enough details on that front. I basically guesstimated 3 hours-ish based on what I read on forums. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[2] I read on LoTR wiki that Dale did not finish its reconstruction until 3 years after the defeat of Smaug. Since we haven't reached that third year mark yet, Dale is still being repaired. I also pictured Dale to be like the gateway to the north-east regions of Middle-Earth given that it's the biggest human settlement situated the closest to the borders of wilderland, and it's also smack dab in the middle of all the trade routes between the Dwarves, humans, and Elves. So yeah, in my mind, Dale is a hub of all sorts of different people and a miss-mash of culture, like how Constantinople was with it being located at the end of the Silk Road.

[3] Oh man, I had to google romance novel titles for dwarves and the internet did not disappoint. Some of the other names I found include: Mr. and Mrs. Blacksmith, Hammer Me Senseless, Moradin Moradout, Fifty Braids of Grey, and Druergard To The Heart. Kudos to Reddit for that!