Hello! ^o^

I though I'd give you all a little omake, while I'm working on the next chapter. This is the letter Thorin was talking about in the last one, where the brothers inform him about the Nori accident.

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Thorin was so tired. He was exhausted in fact. The forge was almost frozen when he came in today, the anvil and the tools covered in a thin layer of frost. Everything was cold in the Blue Mountains; he supposed their name came from the color everyone's skin turned into at winter. Erebor never got this cold, it was in a much warmer part of the lands, but these ridges…They were bordered with the merciless Gulf of Lune and the Ice bay of Forochel. Ice and cold were unanimous with winter in these parts, and Thorin could do nothing to change that.

Just as the dwarf was about to stretch on his bed, a knock sounded from outside the door, and a hesitant voice came through.

"Master Oakenshield, there is a letter for you" was said through the frame, as a young dwarf tentatively came through holding a thick envelope.

"Thank you Ori, give it here" answered Thorin getting up, and taking the letter. He gave the other a nod as he went away, and turned over the parcel.

Opening the sealed cover Thorin's eyes fell on a quite unusual letter.

Dear Uncle Thorin.

Tis' us, Fili and Kili.

We are writing to you on this fine day to tell you of our lives here in Hobbiton. As you know from our previous missive we have settled well, and are on our way to completing our first and biggest commission so far. Auntie Bilbo took us to see the head of his family, an old and pretty big hobbit, and all of his relatives. They lived a few ways away from Bag End, and we journeyed there with Auntie's prompting. It looked very nice, even though there was more wood then stone and we were well received. The old Took commissioned full silverware dining set for 100 hobbits and a set of trinkets and gifts for the same amount of guests for his daughter's wedding, to be completed by mid-spring. We are well on our way to being done with a half of the order.

In other news, we have protected Auntie Bilbo's virtue!

At this Thorin stopped, reading the sentence again with bulging eyes. His what now?

In other news, we have protected Auntie Bilbo's virtue! He went out to get some things from the market, and as we followed, we noticed a strange dwarf about to approach him. His intentions were clear, as he primped up, made his braids as puff as he could, and then strutted in Auntie's direction. It's a good thing Fili and I was able to get the randy bugger and warn him off. Although I'm not sure what exactly Fili told him to get him to pale so much he looked like he was made from marble, but never the less, we did not see him again.

I told him that we would be the least of his worries, dare he even try to approach Auntie, and that our uncle on the other hand would hesitate very little to have his hide displayed and his name shamed for all his ancestors. Among other choice words.

Bit of an interesting information there: this fellow had the quite distinct style to his braids. Thrice-split beard, in flat braids, and eyebrow braids, leading to his hair. The hair itself was in a thrice-split as well, but brushed very high, with a central weave going from the forehead. The clasps looked very similar to those Master Dori wears. I though perhaps he may know something about him.

Regardless, everything is fine now, and Auntie is safe. We hope to hear from you soon,

Kili and Fili.

P.S. Auntie says hello!

The letter finished with a rough sketch of the dwarf the brothers were talking about, and Thorin raked his memory, trying to identify him. He unfortunately came up short, and decided to question Dori as soon as the other came into his view.

As he rested back on the pillows, Thorin's mind seethed as he thought of what might have occurred, had his nephews not been there for his…friend. Bilbo, for all his bravery, was still very young, and would likely been very distressed by the situation.

Thorin discreetly imagined the hobbit he had come to know as a very strong person, being cornered in some alley, with a terrified look on his face, as a sleazy stranger run his hands all over his body. Even madder now, the smith let out a growl, and set a notch in his memory in order to properly thank his nephews. No one, and he meant no one, touched what was his. Be it his family, or friends. And Bilbo Baggins was steadily on his way to becoming both. Tomorrow he would write the boys back, and tell them to keep a sharp eye while he was away; and he would question Dori on every bit of information the other possessed on this thrice-split bugger. And when he knew who he was…Oh the dwarf better hope they never came across each other…

With these thoughts Thorin settled in his bed, and went to sleep, head filled with dreams of a terrified face glowing with happiness, as Thorin himself stood over the sniveling dwarf, with a small body in his arms. For some reason his nephews were flying over him in drapes throwing little flowers all over the two…

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Here you go! A little fun to tide you over, while I write. Review, comment, like I enjoy all of these things, especially now, when I'm sick with this dratted flu. Ta!