Hello! Sorry for the late update!
This chapter only takes place a couple months after the last chapter. So, physically, Fíli (actual age 10) is 5 or 6 and Kíli (age 5) is about 2.
"Fíli! Kíli! Time to get cleaned up! Our family will be arriving shortly!" Dís called out in the quiet little house, drying her hands on a wash-towel as she prepared for company. She wasn't particularly fond of having people over. They always left the house in a worse state than it already was. She didn't need any more messes, especially with Fíli and Kíli around to keep her occupied.
Dís waited a few short moments for the telltale sound of padding feet on the wood floor. When no sound came, she grew increasingly agitated. Now was not a good time to make her angry.
"Boys!" She yelled, her patience rapidly waning.
No answer.
"Oh, when I find those boys…" She threw down the towel as she stomped off in search of her children, muttering curses all the while.
Just as she was about to turn the corner, she barreled straight into her brother's chest. Thorin looked down at his sister in alarm, a questioning glance flitting in his eyes, but Dís simply shoved him away and continued in her search.
"What's wrong?" He asked.
"Fíli and Kíli."
"Oh." That was all the answer he needed.
Thorin trailed quickly after his sister as she headed for the door.
What they found outside was nothing they could have ever expected.
Two little Dwarflings, completely bare of clothing and soaking wet, were running around through the streets. One tiny dark-haired Dwarfling was trying with all his little heart to catch up to his older brother and douse him with a bucket of water.
To any common bystander, the scene would've been hilarious. But a certain mother was fuming in barely contained rage.
Meanwhile, Thorin was attempting to suppress laughter.
"FÍLI! KÍLI! What on EARTH do you think you are DOING?!" Dís burst, unable to hold in her broiling anger any further.
The children in question froze, staring in utter terror at their mother. Kíli was so shocked that he dropped the bucket, spilling water out on the already drenched cobblestone. Fíli, suddenly becoming aware of himself, blushed furiously in embarrassment and hastily crossed his legs in an attempt to cover up.
That was when Thorin completely lost it. He guffawed uncontrollably, slapping his hands on his knees. 'Twas truly a sight to behold. Two little Dwarf Princes, naked in the midst of many, while the great King Under the Mountain collapsed in laughter. A very rare sight indeed.
Dís sent a heated glare in her brother's direction, quickly silencing him. Thorin coughed, and waited for his sister to make her move.
She strode with all the purpose of a queen to her sons, scooping them both into her arms, and swiftly turning on her heel back into the house, deftly avoiding the eyes of any onlookers.
Thorin stood awkwardly outside his home as villagers stared. He cleared his throat, and hastily shuffled after his sister.
When he re-entered the house, he could hear muffled cries filtering from the other room. Surely Dís was carrying out their punishment.
He sat patiently in the den, waiting.
Minutes later, Dís returned, a surprisingly calm look on her face, as her sons hid behind her.
"Come boys, let's see you." Thorin beckoned, kindly.
They moved slowly away from the protection of their mother. They were now wearing light tunics and little leather boots, and their hair was freshly combed and tied back. Tears covered their red faces.
"Did your mother put you two over her knee?" Thorin asked.
Fíli nodded sadly, and Kíli burst into tears once more, wobbling up to his uncle. His dark eyes demanded to be comforted.
Thorin took his youngest nephew into his arms, cradling him close to his chest. He looked over to the elder, who held his head in utter shame.
"Fíli." The child looked up. Such embarrassment littered his gaze. He held out an arm to the Dwarfling. Fíli choked on a sob and ran into his uncle's embrace.
Thorin held his nephews tight. "Now what did you learn today?" He asked, softly.
"To not be naked." Kíli sobbed.
"Yes. Especially out in public like that. And why are you supposed to wear clothes outside?"
"Because we're Princes of Erebor." Fíli sniffled.
"Even if you weren't heirs, you still cannot run around in nothing but the skin you were born in." Dís cut in.
"Try explaining that to Thorin." A new voice entered the conversation.
"Balin! Dwalin!" Kíli exclaimed, tears vanishing as quickly as they appeared.
"Hello there, Kíli!" Balin opened his arms wide as the child leapt onto him.
"What about me?" Dwalin huffed indignantly.
Kíli scrambled out of Balin's grip and hugged Dwalin around the leg. "Can I pwease see Gwaspo and Keepo?" He bounced up and down.
"Grasper and Keeper? Sure thing laddie. Just be careful and don't touch. They'll give you a nasty scratch." Dwalin lowered his prized axes down to the level of the Dwarfling, who stared at them with wide eyes. Fíli was also drawn to them like a moth is drawn to light.
"When can I have axes like Dwalin, Momma?" Kíli asked, having completely forgotten about the punishment he had received from her just moments ago.
"Maybe when you're a wee bit older, Kíli." She smiled.
The Dwarfling seemed content with this answer, and continued his study of the weapons, occasionally letting out small gasps of excitement. Fíli gazed at the axes, yearning consuming his features.
"So, what exactly happened this evening? These lads seem to be the talk of the town." Balin smiled.
"Oh, those foolish boys thought it'd be amusing to run around the streets, bare bums free for all the world to see." Dís rolled her eyes.
Dwalin erupted into laughter as Balin chuckled lightly.
Eventually the laughter subsided and Balin and Dwalin took their seats.
Balin leaned forward. "You know lads, Thorin has had his own special experiences, much like you two."
"Really?" Fíli whispered in awe. Kíli's mouth formed into a perfect 'o' shape.
"Really." Balin nodded.
Thorin ran a calloused hand down his face. "Is this necessary, Balin?"
"Oh yes." Balin dismissed.
Thorin grunted and slumped in his chair.
"This took place years ago, was when Erebor was still ruled by your great-grandfather, Thror. Thorin and I were still just wee lads, not even past our seventh year. Frerin and Dwalin were little babes, barely beginning to walk. Your mother hadn't even been born yet!" Balin began.
The Dwarflings listened in amazement, trying to picture their guardians as mere children.
"Thorin and I played tricks whenever we had the opportunity. It was our favorite pastime, putting toads down old ladies skirts, throwing eggs at unsuspecting victims…" The boys shuddered at the memory. "We caused more trouble than our parents could handle." He chuckled. "But there was one trick that outdid all the rest…"
"You aren't." Thorin interrupted.
"Oh, but I am." The aged Dwarf laughed. He continued. "King Thror was holding a large council that consisted of prestigious Dwarves from all over Middle Earth. These Dwarves came from places such as the Iron Hills, Moria—you name it. Now, Thorin thought it would be an excellent idea to place a spider atop Dain Ironfoot's head."
"No!" Fíli gasped. He had heard stories of the Great Dain Ironfoot. He was a living legend.
"Yes," Balin winked. "Oh, it caused quite an uproar. I could honestly say I had never seen a man jump as high as the Mighty Dain. It goes without saying that the warrior has a certain distaste for arachnids."
At this point, the whole room was filled with laughter. The image of such a warrior as Dain jumping around in fear of a tiny insect was even more difficult to picture than young Thorin.
"But wait! Here's the kick!" Balin continued. "Thorin was in the nude, can you believe it! Lad never had a thing for clothes, and didn't think it would be a problem to run 'round bare! He never imagined he'd be caught!"
Thorin's face was flushed in a deep red as he hid his face in embarrassment. But despite the wound to his pride, the Dwarven King couldn't help but smile.
"We nearly escaped with our lives! But, Thrain would have none of that. He grabbed us by the ears, and gave us a swift cuff about the head. He then proceeded to take us into his chambers, where Thorin's mother, Freya, was playing with wee Frerin. I had never experienced such a harsh scolding, not even from Fundin, my own father! But when Thrain turned on Thorin… I knew it wouldn't end well.
"You see, Thorin didn't receive reprimand with grace, still doesn't." Thorin whipped around, sending a harsh glare in Balin's direction. "Just fooling." He chuckled. "Your uncle was so enraged by his father's words that he took out his anger on the closest person. Well, that lucky person just so happened to be his young brother, Frerin. He took one look at that chubby cheek and just couldn't resist. He tempered his rage, biting down hard on the child's face."
"Oh dear." Dís muttered, shaking her head in amusement. Fíli and Kíli both winced in sympathy for their late Uncle Frerin. Dwalin shook with muffled laughter. Thorin held a hand over his face.
"Frerin, the poor lad." Balin said. "He cried for a good minute. But no sound escaped his little mouth, he was in such shock. Freya was urgently trying to get the infant to breathe. After a long, long moment, the child finally drew breath. Frerin received a permanent scar from the incident, if I remember correctly. But Thorin… He certainly was in for a good beating. And a beating he got! Couldn't sit for nearly two days after."
The laughter could be stifled no longer. Tears streamed down the faces of the listeners. The ones most amused were, without surprise, Fíli and Kíli. They felt much better about what had transpired earlier, now that they knew Thorin's greatest secret. They could definitely get some leverage out of this story.
'Of course Balin had to choose to tell that story.' Thorin thought, cheeks still red from embarrassment.
He expected to feel a stab of pain at the mention of his family. His grandfather, father, mother. His brother. But, rather than dark memories plaguing his mind, he was filled with a sense of peace and happiness. Retelling the stories of his childhood wasn't such a poor idea after all. He didn't realize how much he needed it.
Thorin raised his gaze from the floor, eyes meeting Balin's. He nodded once in thanks, receiving a bright smile in return. Balin always seemed to know.
His eyes fell on his nephews, giggling and rolling in laughter. More than anything, Thorin loved to see Fíli and Kíli happy.
Maybe one of these nights he would tell them a story.
There you go! Don't worry, this story will pick up rapidly in the next few chapters. I just want to establish a family setting for while they still live in the Blue Mountains.
If any of you noticed the name I gave Thorin's mother, and thought it had any importance, than you were right! Freya is the Norse goddess of love, beauty, wealth, and war. She is also Thor and Loki's mother, in the Marvel comics (more commonly known as Frigga). I used her name because most of the Dwarf names that Tolkien used were actually derived from Norse mythology! Cool stuff:)
And if Thorin seems a little out of character (laid-back and maybe even a little bit happy) to you at all, don't worry, I'll also explain that. Something really bad is going to happen to the boys in a few years (chapters) time that'll cause him to be more like the Thorin we all know and love. I promised hurt, and hurt you shall get. In due time:)
Please review! It really helps! :)