The day begins like any other. Fíli wakes to the sound of Thor's solid thumps on his bedroom door and rolls out of bed with a groan. He rises to the gentle patter of rain on his window and the sinking feeling that this is going to be the kind of morning where Thor pushes him hard. He's right. Even though it's barely dawn Thor is already in the courtyard in front of the smithy. His chest is bare, even in the cool air of early spring, as he runs through fluid forms with his sword. His skin is a story, inked and scarred, and Fíli often wonders what battles his uncle must have seen to have such a tale carved upon him for not all of the marks can be from a forge. He must have been young, when he earnt them, because all of Fíli's memories are of Bree and though his child's eye paints Thor as ever the same in his memories he must have been young once and seen battle then too. Unlike Dwalin, however, who is always happy to share a tale, Thor remains silent, grows distant when asked and angry when pressed.

They spar together, hand to hand, knives and swords, until Fíli no longer knows which part of the moisture on his skin is rain and which is sweat. Then they go inside, Fíli lights the forge while Thor makes them a simple breakfast, and they eat together as the fire heats. After a simple meal they pull on simple linen shirts, burn marked in places from sparks, and leather aprons before beginning their work. Thor is skilled enough that they never have any shortage of it and Fíli enjoys the way it fills his days.

It all begins to go a little bit sideways when Thor looks up from the pony he is shoeing to stare at a Man across the street. The Man isn't the tallest Fíli has ever seen, although his pointed hat makes him appear all the taller, and he is dressed in grey robes that have clearly seen better days. Thor scowls, his face plainly showing his familiarity with the stranger, and Fíli finds himself burning with curiosity as he watches. As though sensing his interest, Thor turns hard eyes upon his nephew and his lips twist even as he finishes the final shoe for the pony.

"You're done for the day," Thor tells him abruptly. "Go find Ori or whatever it is you do on your afternoon off."

"But, Uncle," he objects, they have a number of farming tools to make for one of the Tooks, who will be by in a week to collect, and two more ponies to shoe. Not to mention the various repairs that Fíli is currently working on.

"Now, Fíli!" Thor barks. Fíli doesn't try to argue again, he simply clears his station and heads into the small house attached to the workshop.

He washes quickly, Rosie Chubb is working the Prancing Pony today and it is always fun to catch her attention, and changes his clothes. He is retying a braid when he hears Thor's raised voice through his partially open window, and he moves closer to listen.

"How, in Mahal's name, did he manage to take it?" Thor roars. "Bad enough he's betrayed us without you realising he was planning to, but we both know that none but the elder line of Durin can touch the thing."

"I have my suspicions," the Man replies, though he seems weary he clearly is not at all intimidated by Thor's anger, "though I pray I am wrong in my conclusions. I do not like to think what he might have done to encourage cooperation."

"I know where everyone from that bloodline is, wizard ," Fíli stifles a gasp behind his fist, "and they are all accounted for."

"Are they?" The wizard asks and Thor swears.

"He wouldn't."

"Given how long it has been, and his age, who is to say whether he would or wouldn't?" Is the reply.

"He's dead ," Thor snarls. "Do you honestly think I would have remained here had I believed for a moment it was otherwise?"

"Regardless," the wizard in grey continues, "I will need your help in retrieving the thing. We will need to leave now and meet with the others."

"No," Thor replies. "I cannot just leave, it will be remarked upon. The boy and I will have to prepare." Fíli pulls a face at being spoken of so dismissively. Thor has never treated him as an inconvenience in the past, but his choice of words makes him feel as though that is exactly what he is.

"Surely the boy can stay?" The Man asks. "He is nearly of age."

"Oh, yes," Thor laughs mirthlessly. "But he isn't yet, and he's rather too fond of a certain barmaid. I will not leave him where he can be ensnared. Bring the others here, if you must, and we will discuss what is to be done. Warn them to guard their tongues around the lad, I am merely Thor the Blacksmith here, and that is who I will remain. It is who the boy knows."

"Someone will slip eventually," the Man warns.

"Not if they value their heads," Thor mutters darkly and Fíli darts behind the curtain when his uncle's eyes turn towards his window. He takes that as his cue to leave the house, better that his uncle not catch him eavesdropping, and hurries out using the back door. His steps are quick, excited, as he makes his way to Dori and Ori's shop.

Dori has a customer when Fíli arrives and that means that Ori is at the counter in the little shop, scribbling away in the business books as he puts together account invoices, payment receipts and inventories. Fíli has no idea how his friend keeps it all straight and always marvels to see him mutter a name and reach for a scrap of paper without really looking.

"You'll never believe what I just heard," he says once he has caught Ori's attention. The older dwarf stares at him expectantly. "A wizard came to see Thor," Fíli hisses once he has glanced around to check that they are mostly alone. "A tall fellow in grey robes and a pointed hat. He wants Thor to go on a quest to retrieve something."

"Retrieve what?" Ori asks, eyes gleaming in excitement. "And how does your uncle know a wizard anyway? How can you be so sure he was a wizard?" As always Ori's questions come rapidly, one after the next almost without space for breath and certainly without leaving Fíli time to answer. He waits for his friend to fall silent and then answers the first.

"I don't know," Fíli shrugs, "it has to be important, though, Thor was really upset to hear that it had been taken."

"It doesn't take much to upset your uncle," Ori observes, then gestures for silence as the door to Dori's fitting room opens and a portly dwarrowdam emerges followed by Ori's brother. Dori scowls over at them as soon as the door closes behind his customer.

"What are you two up to?" He asks suspiciously. Fíli shrugs and grins brightly. Dori rolls his eyes at the expression all too aware that it is usually one of false innocence. "Go and be up to it somewhere else," he sighs rather than wait for any other answer. "I'm too old for this." Dori probably has a good seventy years or so on Ori, so Fíli can well believe it.

"We'll go up to my room," Ori says quickly, grabbing Fíli's sleeve in much the same way that Kíli used to. It sparks the briefest flicker of grief, Fíli doesn't think he'll ever stop missing Kíli, but he brushes it off as he follows his friend.

"A wizard," Ori prompts as soon as the door is closed.

"Aye," Fíli grins. "Thor knew him, though I didn't get his name." Ori's mouth drops open. "It was strange, though, the wizard was insisting he leave immediately and Thor refused. My uncle told him to bring the others they are to meet to the smithy tonight, but that they will have to watch their tongues."

"Why?" Ori asks.

"Something to do with him just being Thor the Blacksmith," Fíli pulls a face. "I don't know why that would be so important." Ori, however, is staring at him with wide eyes. "What?"

"It's just," his friend looks down at his hands, picking at a stray thread from his scribe's gloves with his ink stained fingers. "It's just, what if they know him as something else?" Ori asks. "And if he has to remind them that he's Thor, what do they know him as?"

"He's my Uncle Thor, Ori, my mother's brother. Who else would he be?" Fíli replies, forehead wrinkling in a confused frown. Then the meaning of Ori's question sinks in, Ori has always been quick to think of the things that Fíli might overlook, and he feels a flood of horror. If those who are coming know Thor as something else, is his uncle really who he says he is? Is he even really Fíli's uncle?

"Oh, Mahal, Fíli," Ori breathes, "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sure there's an explanation for it."

"That's not it, not all of it. We're leaving later, or tomorrow," Fíli breathes as he sits heavily on the bed next to his friend. "What if Thor isn't really who he says he is? Will I be travelling with a stranger? What if this isn't the only lie he's ever told me? What if my parents aren't dead?"

"I don't think it's as bad as all that," Ori assures him. "Whether he's your uncle or not it's clear that he loves you a great deal. I'm sure, no matter his reasons, even if he has lied about his identity it has been done to keep you safe."

"I guess," Fíli scrapes a hand through his hair and makes a frustrated noise.

"Anyway," Ori adds, "you're not going without me. I'll pack a bag and come with you."

"Would Dori let you?" Fíli asks, though he won't deny that it will be good to have a friend with him.

"I'm of age, Fíli," Ori replies loftily, "Dori doesn't have a say in what I do." He pauses and casts a worried glance at his bedroom door. "I'll just leave him note," he adds and Fíli laughs.