AN – Okay, so please don't expect updates to regularly be this fast. Today was a very convenient snow day, and I was able to get a lot of writing done. :) It's more likely that I'll update every week or so, but I have so many Durin feels that I just don't know how to cope other than by writing them out, so who knows what will happen. Unbetaed, as usual, so all mistakes are my own.

Thank you so much for the review, favorites, and story alerts. Y'all make me so happy.

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Enjoy!

Warnings: Adorable babies, basically. Angsty Thorin, but when is he not?

Greater than Gold

Chapter 2: Thirteen and Seven

By Displaced Hobbit

Thorin tries to hide his smile as he watches his youngest nephew. He had expected Kili to start trying to practice with his brother's wooden swords as soon as Fili obtained them, since the younger always wanted to do everything his brother did. It reminded him of Frerin, which always made him happy and sad at the same time. His brother had always wanted to be with him, had wanted to be his shadow. It still haunted him that he hadn't been able to protect him, or his sister, but he swore to protect his sister-sons with every fiber of his being to make up for his failures.

Kili is small for his age, much smaller than Fili was. Even though his youngest nephew was seven, he wore the hand-me-down clothes Fili had worn when he was five. The wooden sword was nearly as tall as he was, and the lad struggled to lift it so that the tip didn't scrape the ground. He chuckled lightly as he settled himself on the ground, sitting with Kili standing between his legs and his back to his chest so their heads were at the same height. He laid one hand over top of Kili's and gripped the sword, lifting it with ease to point directly in front of the boy.

Kili let out a delighted laugh, and Thorin guided him through a few practice swings. "In a few years you'll have your own sword, little one," he murmured. "One better suited for your height, when you start training."

Kili shook his head. "No; I'll get this one. I get all of Fee's old things," he explained, tone indicating that he thought it should have been obvious to his uncle. In truth, it was something that Thorin despised; the way they constantly had to scrape to make ends meet only served as another reminder as to how far they had fallen. His nephews should be princes in Erebor, not two small dwarflings simply existing in a town of men.

But, he reminded himself, his sister never would have met her husband had they not been driven out, he never would have had his precious nephews otherwise.

Thorin laughed lightly. "I doubt you'll be as big as your brother was, even in three years," he explained.

The boy let go of the sword and wiggled his hands from under Thorin's grip before turning to face him, a frown set on his lips. "I will too be."

He set the sword down on the ground, smiling at the challenge the boy presented to him. "You won't be," he said, making an effort to sound completely sure of himself.

Kili's eyes watered a bit, and he shook his head. "I won't be this small forever," he half whined, sounding exasperated.

At that, Thorin pressed a kiss to his forehead. "You won't, but you will be small for a while." He raised a hand in a request for silence when the boy started to speak up again. "Winter children are always small for a while. You forget, Kili, that I was born in the winter as well. I was always much smaller than the other dwarflings, but you will grow out of it, just as I did."

Kili still frowned, but Thorin could see the glimmer of excitement that always sparked in his eyes when he mentioned how they were similar. "So I'll be like you?" he asked.

Thorin kissed his cheek. "You'll be better," he said, and Kili really did smile at that as he threw his arms around his Uncle's neck and held him tight. Thorin wrapped one arm around him and picked the sword back up with the other. He earned himself another delighted squeal when he stood them up and spun around once.

"I never would have thought I'd see the great Thorin Oakenshield turned to mush by such a tiny little thing," a familiar voice jested from behind him, and he turned to find Balin, eyeing him with a teasing glare, easy smile across his face.

Thorin smirked. "Perhaps old hearts do turn soft after a while," he answered as he hefted Kili up onto his shoulders. "Did Dwalin take Fili out for a while?"

Balin nodded. "Aye, he did." He chuckled. "He's bound to be sore and exhausted when he gets back, but at least your surprise will be intact."

"A surprise?!" Kili called from above him. "What is it? Why did you not tell me about it?"

Balin poked the boy's leg. "Because you can't keep a secret from your brother to save your life," he teased, and Kili frowned for a moment before he accepted that as truth.

"Can I see it?" he asked, fingers whirling through Thorin's hair. "Please, Uncle?"

Thorin laughed. "Yes, of course. But you cannot spoil it for him when he gets home."

Kili promised not to, and the three of them headed back to the forge attached to their home. Thorin set the boy down as soon as they were inside and headed to the back, where he pulled out a wrapped parcel from behind a shelf of tools. Kili pulled himself up onto a chair once Thorin set the bundle on the table, and gasped when the cloth was pulled away to reveal a real sword, glimmering silver in the afternoon light from the window.

"It's very well done," Balin commented, hand reaching out to skim along the blade, fingers brushing over the runes carved into the hilt. "It is a fine first blade for a prince." Kili glanced up at him curiously; he had never heard his brother referred to as a prince, but his Uncle was a prince, so he supposed it made sense.

Kili didn't dare reach out and touch, but Thorin smiled at the awe so clearly etched across his face. "Could you have kept this a secret for a few weeks?" he asked, and Kili immediately shook his head.

"What does that say?" Kili asked, eyes on the runes that he couldn't quite decipher.

"After all the years I've spent teaching you your letters, laddie…" Balin muttered, and Kili at least had the decency to blush.

"It says 'honor and loyalty,'" Thorin explained quietly. "When I was young, my father always told me that the finest attributes of a prince were honor and loyalty to his king."

The boy frowned. "Is Fili really a prince? I know you are, but, wouldn't Da have had to be one for him to be?"

Thorin gave him a small smile. "You are both princes of Erebor, just as I was. Your birthright comes through your Mum, as she was princess. I cannot give you your great halls or crowns, not yet, but one day you will have them."

"That's why I spend so much time teaching you about Erebor and our history, the things I don't teach the other dwarrows," Balin added. "You do not have your kingdom yet, but it will come, and you and Fili both will be ready for it."

Kili nodded, digesting the information silently as he was prone to. He smiled up at his Uncle. "Fili will be a great prince," he declared, and Thorin reached out to ruffle his wild hair fondly.

"Aye, he will," he agreed, before covering the sword and returning it to its hiding place. "But he will be rather cross with us if we are not ready for his birthday, so we had best get to the market."

Kili slid down off of his chair, bouncing excitedly. "I can't wait for Mister Bofur to show you what I made!" he declared. He had been working with the young toymaker for several weeks, on something that he'd managed to not peep a word about, a rare feat for the lad. Thorin knew when he thought about his work, though, because a secret sort of smile would always creep up on his face when he thought no one was looking.

He lifted the lad up effortlessly and settled him against his hip. Part of him hated how he coddled Kili so, but he was not keen on having the boy roaming through the marketplace alone. He was too small, and there were too many men who wouldn't think twice of treating a young dwarfling ill for him to let either of his nephews out of his sight, or out of his touch, if he could help it.

"Come, Balin," he said to his longtime friend as they made their way to the door. "A bit of fresh air in the market will do you some good. You've been spending far too much time with your stuffy old scrolls."

Balin scoffed at him but followed anyway, muttering something about using his stuffy old scrolls to teach his nephews about their heritage.

They stopped first to meet with Bofur, a fellow dwarf who had always called the Blue Mountains home, and had been teaching Kili how to make things from wooden blocks. Kili squirmed free of his Uncle's grasp and immediately launched himself at Bofur's legs, and the dwarf feigned injury and fell to the ground with a dramatic flop as Kili sprawled across him.

"You've bested me again!" he declared, and Kili laughed breathlessly.

"Careful now, you'll give him a big head," Thorin teased as he offered a hand to get the other dwarf to his feet.

Bofur just grinned. "Don't think it could get any bigger than yours," he pointed out, and Thorin laughed.

"Come then," he said. "Let me see this great gift you've created for your brother." Bofur nodded at the boy, who disappeared behind the stall and came back a moment later, clutching a wooden sculpture in his hands. He handed it to Thorin with great reverence and care, and the older dwarf squatted down to be level with his nephew as he turned it over in his hands.

"You made this?" he asked, slightly in awe. Kili had always been good with his hands; his handwriting was almost as nice as Balin's (even if he still didn't know all of his letters without looking them up) and he'd always been able to braid neatly and quickly (though they always fell out of his own hair, so he spent most of his time braiding Fili's or Thorin's). Kili would sometimes carve runes into Thorin's metal work with careful, steady hands, and if he was bored he would draw crude pictures on scraps of paper that Thorin left tucked in random places throughout their home, should he ever need a reason to smile.

"It's a lion," Kili explained, looking to his Uncle for any sign of approval. "Mister Balin showed me a picture of one and it made me think of Fee."

He traced his fingers over the carving of a lion's face and mane. He hadn't needed Kili's explanation; the work was exquisite and beautiful, a feat for such a young child. He turned it over again in his hands, taking in all of the detail that the boy had put into it, and smiled. Kili would be wasted in the forge, he mused. His skills would lie in detailed work rather than brute strength, perhaps with leather, and maybe one day with jewels, if they ever returned to Erebor where they could afford such things again.

"It's wonderful, lad," he murmured eventually, and Kili's entire face lit up with a smile as he threw his arms around his Uncle's neck again.

"Do you think Fee will like it?" he asked, and Thorin nodded.

"I think he will love it," he clarified, and Kili hugged him tighter.

He tried to thank Bofur with a bit of coin, but the dwarf waved him off with a smile, telling him how much he had enjoyed Kili's company and that had been payment enough. Kili thanked him with a wide smile and a tight hug, tugging another smile from his Uncle. The boy really was much like his father, full of warm embraces and easy smiles. His affectionate nature rubbed off on everyone he met; perhaps Balin was right and he was growing soft.

With a nod, they headed back out into the marketplace, one of Kili's hands clutched in Thorin's and the other grasping his prized carving close to his chest. They met back up with Balin in the marketplace, and found the older dwarf had several new scrolls tucked under his arm.

"All for your lessons," he teased at the wary look Kili gave the scrolls, and the boy gave a loud gasp coupled with a horrified gaze. Kili's handwriting may have been exquisite, but his reading skills were far below where they should be, and Balin spent many hours pouring through scrolls with the boy to help him learn. He laughed then, and reached down to pat the boy's head fondly. "I only jest, laddie. These are for your Uncle. All about Erebor!"

Thorin gave him a questioning look, one that Balin simply answered with a smile, and they continued through the marketplace, gathering up the groceries they would need for a week or so, and picking out some special ingredients to make Fili's favorite potpies. By the time they were ready to head home, Kili was dozing against his Uncle's chest, thumb in his mouth and all, and Thorin's other arm was laden with their purchases of the day.

It was on days like this when he most missed his sister. When Fili was young, she would haul them both to the market and spend her time coddling over her babe while Thorin lugged around her purchases. Now, he was stuck carrying everything, and it made him feel the heavy burden on his shoulders.

Balin must have picked up on his turbulent thoughts, and he reached out to grab one of the crates that Thorin had precariously balanced against his chest. He started to protest, but his old friend shot him a knowing look, the one that said you don't have to do all of this alone, and he let it drop. He was lucky to have such good friends in Balin and Dwalin; he knew he would not have been able to care for the boys properly if it weren't for them.

Balin taught them their lessons, letters, history, and anything else the boys would willingly listen to. He actually taught most of the dwarrow children in the town, and made a fair bit of coin off of it, but he never charged Thorin a cent, always claiming that he just enjoyed spending time with the lads. When Fili had turned ten, Dwalin had started training him in sparring and sword fighting, as was tradition in Erebor. Fili loved those lessons, and Kili was eager to start his own, though he had a few more years to wait. Dwalin made most of his coin through hunting and trapping, and he usually supplied their family with all of the salted meats they could possibly want. They both often spent time helping Thorin in the forge when he needed it, but business had been slow as of late, and there hadn't been much work to be done.

Once they reached home, he deposited Kili into the bed he shared with his brother, tucking him in with a soft kiss to his cheek to nap. He wished, for the second instance in such a scant time, that Dis were alive to see her son; she would have adored him.

He sighed before heading back into the main area of their home, pleased to find Balin already mixing the ingredients to make the potpies. Thorin knew better than to even joke of touching the food; he had always been a disaster in the kitchen. When it was just the three of them, they often subsisted on simple stews and roasted meats with breads they purchased at the market. When Balin and Dwalin dined with them, they always cooked, and on those nights they dined like the princes they were.

Thorin was drawn out of his thoughts by Dwalin's rumbling laughter from just outside the door. Not a moment later, Fili had thrown it open, face flushed with excitement.

"Uncle! Mister Balin!" he shouted, as soon as he saw them. "You'll never believe what I did today!"

Thorin shushed him quietly, with a meaningful glance toward their bedrooms, and Fili offered a sheepish smile as he propped the practice sword he had been carrying by the door.

"Mister Dwalin taught me how to ride a pony, Uncle! All by myself! And I did great, didn't I?" he asked, turning to look at Dwalin, and grinning from ear to ear at the affirming nod he gave. "The pony even tried to knock me off and I didn't fall!"

Thorin chuckled and bent down to accept his offered hug. "We'll make a right fine warrior out of you yet, won't we?" Fili grinned impossibly wider.

"Supper will be ready soon," Balin pointed out, and Fili's eyes lit up when he saw what was placed on the stove. "You ought to go wash up and wake your brother."

Fili nodded excitedly and all but sprinted back to the washroom to do as he was told. It was rare that they did anything special for any of their birthdays; Thorin and Kili's were in the winter and it was often too cold and snowy for them to even leave the house. It warmed his heart that his Uncle and Misters Balin and Dwalin had thought to make him something special for supper. And he was thirteen. The next time he trained with Dwalin, he would be allowed to use a real sword. He had hoped they would today, but learning how to ride was exciting enough as it was.

He hurriedly dunked his hands into the basin and scrubbed them clean, before cupping some of the cool water and washing his face, paying special attention to the whiskers on his chin. He did not have a proper beard yet, but he wanted to keep it as clean and neat as possible. He practically tore off his shirt to finish scrubbing himself as clean as he could manage; he had been outside all day in practically the middle of summer, and around noontime he and Mister Dwalin had been drenched in sweat. He could probably do with an entire bath, but he was far too excited to bother with such things like heating the water and carrying it to the basin.

He paused as he crept back toward the room he shared with his brother for a fresh change of clothes, when Dwalin said something that piqued his interest.

"More signs?" the warrior muttered. "How are we to know that these can be believed? What if this is all folly?"

Thorin sighed, reading through a scroll and rubbing at his temple. "There is no way to know, unless we investigate ourselves. These signs could be coming from those who attempt to deceive us."

"Well what of the boys?" Balin asked in a concerned voice. "We cannot leave them here, alone."

Thorin sighed again, heavier this time. "I do not know." A tiny bolt of fear shot down Fili's spine. What could they possibly be talking about that would have his Uncle even consider leaving them behind? "Perhaps we should give this some time, should wait and see what develops."

"We could bring the boys with us if they are but a bit older," Dwalin added. "More trained and prepared for such an adventure."

"Perhaps we could ask Dain for his assistance?" Balin asked, and even Fili flinched at the glare his Uncle gave him. "He has access to more resources than you, Thorin! He could send spies and get more information for us."

"And he would take Erebor for himself if he could!" Thorin whisper-shouted, mindful of his nephews. "He would not even offer us sanctuary without a price; he would not do this without his own gain. I know what his price would be, and I will not pay it."

"So we will wait," Dwalin placated. "We will wait until we can either search for ourselves or we find ones we can trust to do so for us." He clapped a hand to his brother's shoulder. "This is a happy day, we should save such discussions for another time."

After a moment of tension, both Thorin and Balin nodded, and his uncle murmured something about the forge before slipping out the door. Fili let out the breath he wasn't even aware he had been holding. He was not proud of himself for eavesdropping on his Uncle, but he could not help but wonder what they were discussing. Thorin often spoke of reclaiming their homeland one day, but Fili never dreamed it would be so soon; he imagined that he and Kili would both be seasoned warriors by the time they set out for Erebor. And surely his Uncle would not leave them here, in this town of men, to go back to the Lonely Mountain!

He mulled over this new information as he silently crept into his bedroom and dug for some clean clothes in the chest located at the foot of their bed. Kili was sleeping still, curled up in his furs despite the heat outside. Once he changed himself, he stroked his hand across Kili's cheek, gently calling him awake as he came to sit on the side of the bed.

Sleepy brown eyes peered up at him for all of a second before they brightened completely, and his lap was full of an excited little brother, wishing him a happy birthday over and over again. Fili wrapped his arms around him and returned the hug, murmuring his thanks against his brother's hair.

He hadn't been so sure of his brother when he had first been born. There was so much sadness and confusion in his life then, with the death of his father, the arrival of his brother, and the death of his mother just after. At first, he despised the little bundle that Thorin cradled with him wherever he went. He cried all of the time and made Mum sad and got nearly all of the attention from his Uncle. For five and a half years, he had been the center of their world, and he didn't understand why things were suddenly different.

After Mum had passed, Thorin had sat him down and explained everything that had happened as best as he could. It was the first time that he had learned about his Uncle Frerin, and Thorin told him of how it was hard to adjust to a new sibling. But then, his beloved Uncle, who he'd admired above all others, (except for possibly his father) had told him that he needed his help. He'd told him that he was scared and sad and didn't know what to do and that he needed Fili to be the best big brother that he could possibly be, and he'd been helpless to refuse.

He'd helped with everything he could, for as long as he could remember, and Misters Dwalin and Balin had too. It took a few weeks for him to warm up to his baby brother, but one day, as he was feeding the little boy, Kili had looked up at him with those big brown eyes, his father's eyes, and tangled his hand in Fili's hair, cooing happily up at him. From that day on, he was well and truly lost as far as his brother was concerned. He would do anything for him, and he took great comfort in the fact that he knew Kili would too.

Kili asked what he had done that day, and he obliged, watching with a smile as Kili's eyes got impossibly wide.

"A pony!" he exclaimed, breathless. "I want to learn, too!"

Fili ruffled his hair affectionately; sighing when he noticed the boy's braids had fallen out. "You'll need to be a good bit taller for that, Kee," he said as his fingers idly combed through his brother's hair, separating out a patch to braid. His braiding skills needed a lot of work, he knew, as they were always so lumpy looking when he finished them. Kili braided his hair most of the time anyhow. Fili always tried on his little brother, but the boy's hair was so fine that the beads always slipped loose before the day was through. Nonetheless, he finished off the braid, tying the strands of hair around the bead, smiling now that his brother looked somewhat presentable.

Kili reached up to run his fingers over the braid when he'd finished and smiled up at him. "Uncle says that he was little like me too and that one day I'll be as big and strong as he is!"

Fili smiled, standing up off the bed and pulling Kili's arm to come with him. "I have no doubts about that," he said. "Come now, Mister Balin says that supper is almost ready."

Kili pulled his arm away from him, a shy smile on his lips. "I need to get something," he explained, as he half crawled back up onto their bed and reached under his pillow to grasp something that was covered in a small swatch of cloth.

"What's that?" Fili asked, a teasing smile on his face. "Have you gone and gotten your brother something for his birthday?" Kili laughed and shook his head no. Fili pushed his brows together in confusion. "Well, what is it then?"

His little brother bounded off ahead of him into their living room. "You'll have to wait and see, brother!"

With a wry smile, he followed his brother, watching as he climbed up onto a chair to place his parcel on top of the table, where another item, similarly wrapped in cloth rested. A warm feeling settled itself in his stomach. Gifts were a rarity for them. They were so tight on money that any bit they could save was stashed away, usually for the winter months when Dwalin wasn't able to hunt as much as they had to spend more at the market to eat. Thorin had already spoken to him about starting to work in the forge once he was able and a bit stronger so they could possibly make more money when business was available.

"Ah, just in time!" Balin greeted, gesturing for him to take a seat next to his brother at the table. "A most happy birthday to you, laddie," he murmured with a clap to his arm and a warm smile.

"And don't worry," Dwalin added. "Your Uncle had nothing to do with the preparation of this meal." Both dwarflings laughed at that, and Thorin scowled a bit, however insincere it was.

A moment later, small potpies were settled in front of everyone and they all began to eat. Since there were no women present, as there never were, it was a messy affair. Kili still preferred to eat with his fingers and nothing else, and Dwalin had a habit of literally licking his plates clean. In no time at all they were all satiated, but Fili still managed to eat what Kili had not been able to finish.

Fili glanced over at his brother and sighed, noting that his braid was already falling out, and he reached over and pulled the bead loose and tucked it back into his pocket. Kili sent him a rather unapologetic smile and he just shook his head.

"Uncle you should give Fee your present!" he declared, practically vibrating with excitement, and Thorin chuckled lightly.

"And I suppose you know what my present is, do you?" he asked as Thorin cleared the table and Balin slid the largest bundle closer to him.

His younger brother nodded enthusiastically and started to open him mouth, but immediately clamped it shut when Balin, Dwalin, and Thorin gave him a sharp warning of "Kili!"

Fili laughed lightly at him, knowing how terrible his brother was with secrets, and waiting until Thorin returned from placing the dishes in the washbasin before he started pulling at the strings tying the cloth around his gift. Once the cloth was freed, he peeled it back to look at what was hidden underneath, shock overtaking his features.

"Is this…?" he murmured, looking up at his Uncle's smiling face with curious eyes. His hands gripped the hilt of the sword and delicately pulled it from the scabbard, mindful of how close all of them were to the table. "This is…"he murmured again, unable to find words to express his gratitude.

"It is tradition in Erebor that a crown prince receives his first sword on his thirteenth birthday, should his sword master deem him skilled enough," Balin explained, faint smile tugging at his lips as Dwalin nodded. "One that is crafted by a family member, or very close friends."

Fili looked up at his Uncle in awe. The sword was beautiful, fit for a dwarf, and it must have taken ages for Thorin to secure the sturdy materials and craft it with such care. "You made this?" he asked, and his Uncle nodded in return. "I…" he murmured, still rendered nearly speechless. "Thank you." His fingers ran over the runes carved in the hilt and he smiled, warmth spreading through him as he remembered the stories Thorin had told him of his grandfather, of honor and loyalty.

"So in response to your earlier question, lad," Dwalin added, pride evident in his features. "We'll start training you with real swords tomorrow."

A wide smile split Fili's face then, and he carefully placed the sword back into its scabbard before jumping down from his chair and catching Thorin in a crushing hug. "Thank you so much Uncle," he breathed.

Thorin bent to press a kiss into his hair. "You are most welcome," he murmured quietly. He smiled fondly when Fili disengaged and ran to hug both Dwalin and Balin in turn, unable to resist the urge to turn Balin's earlier words against him. "Turned to mush by such a small thing indeed."

"Oh, quiet, you sentimental old fool," he retorted

Fili eventually returned to his seat, fingers skimming over the cool leather of the scabbard, when he eyed the smaller parcel on the table. He turned to look at his brother. "Well, come on then," he insisted. "I don't think I can bare to wait any longer!"

Kili smiled a shy smile. "It's not as nice as Uncle's gift," he murmured, but reached for the parcel anyway and crawled into his brother's lap.

Thorin snorted as he watched their display. One day he would need to work on teaching Kili the meaning of personal space, but truth be told, he enjoyed cuddling the lad for too much for that just yet.

Fili unwrapped the parcel with the same care that he had the sword, and smiled when he saw what was inside. "Did you make this all yourself?" he asked, setting the cloth back on the table as he ran his fingers along the carving, just as Thorin had. Kili nodded from where he had settled himself against his brother's chest.

"Mister Balin gave me the picture and Mister Bofur let me use his tools," he explained.

Fili smiled when he turned it over to see where his brother had etched Fili's name onto the flat back of the carving. "Did it take you a long time?" he asked softly, ever aware of his brother's shy mood.

Kili nodded again. "Do you like it?"

Fili pressed a kiss to his brother's cheek and hugged him tightly. "I love it, Kee." Kili laughed happily against his chest, but made no move to get off of his brother.

"Might I see that?" Dwalin asked, reaching a hand across the table for the carving. Fili leaned forward to hand it to him, smiling all the while. Thorin and Balin excused themselves to tend to the dishes as he studied the gift. "You must have steady hands," he commented, eyeing Kili kindly, and the boy squirmed in his brother's lap at the compliment (as much of a compliment as one could ever get out of Mister Dwalin).

He reached to the table again and pulled Fili's sword closer for inspection, smiling as he lifted one of the leather ties of the scabbard. "You know," he commented, catching eyes with Fili. "It's common for warriors to carry a talisman with them into battle. Something that represents what they fight for."

Fili caught his meaning and smiled, while Kili just looked up at him confused.

"If you wouldn't mind," he said, pulling a small carving knife from his belt, "I could put a little notch in it right here so your could tie it to your scabbard and keep it with you at all times." He showed Kili exactly what he intended to do, and although the young dwarf regarding him with wide eyes, he nodded his consent.

In less that a minute, Dwalin had carved a small channel into the back of the carving, mindful of where Fili's name was so carefully etched, and Fili was tying it to his scabbard with a delighted smile on his face. Thorin and Balin emerged just as they finished, and Fili beamed up at them.

"Now it is the most perfect gift I ever could have asked for!" he declared, and Thorin ruffled his hair fondly.

"Indeed," he agreed, a swell of sheer happiness welling up inside him as he watched his nephews.

Maybe the signs were true. Maybe they would be able to reclaim Erebor soon. Maybe the dragon was aging and weakened and they would be able to slay him, if he were not already dead. Maybe his sister-sons would sit on thrones, dressed in jewels instead of threadbare hand-me-downs. Maybe their times of hardship were behind them

Maybe.

For now he was content with enjoying the love and affections of his nephews.

Thanks for reading!