Fíli stomped through the first snow of the year. It was still a bit early for snow, the leaves on the trees hardly anywhere near their prime, but he didn't mind. He breathed steadily, puffing out steam and inhaling crisp autumn air. A fantastic display of color commanded the sky as the sun surrendered all control. The mountains swallowed the bright star long before its time, and Fíli's heart and feet pounded the same word: home, home, home.
Home.
He could already see the lights of his Uncle's town sparkling on the mountainside. The warm stars beckoned him closer, faster: come, come, come. He smiled, quickening his pace and breath at once. Dwalin chuckled and shared a knowing glance with Thorin. It had been the lad's first journey away from the Blue Mountains and his family, and the few months of separation had been no small adjustment. Now, though, with the lights winking through the trees and the thick scent of a cozy hearth hanging in the air, all loneliness was forgotten.
The watchman at the outskirts of the town nodded to Thorin, bringing fist to chest in a solid salute. Thorin returned the gesture in kind, offering the dwarf a smile and asking after his family.
"Áleifr! How is your son?"
"Well, at last! It was a long struggle, but he pulled through just days after your departure, my lord. He's growing faster than ever now, and eating me out of house and home!" he laughed.
"I am glad to hear it!" Thorin replied. "Don't keep Eydís waiting after your watch. You know how she worries!"
"Aye, Thorin, I know it well," Áleifr conceded with a laugh.
Many more conversations were had in this way, for the settlement was growing large indeed, and Thorin's people had always been his heart. Fíli hastily made his way through the growing crowd that spilled into the streets to welcome back their beloved leader, and the little children giggled and ran alongside him as he jogged through the town square.
"Auntie Dís! Auntie Dís!" they cried, sprinting ahead of him with all the speed of irrepressible giddiness. The children of the village adored Thorin's sister and her two sons, who played with them often, indulging in games and mischief of all sorts. By the time the house was in sight, the door was already opening, the wee ones having caused quite the commotion. They shrieked with delight as Kíli burst outside, streaking over the snow like a falcon.
Fíli didn't even bother to brace himself as he and Kíli collided. They hit the ground with a burst of snow, and the children squealed and threw themselves on top of the brothers as they tusseled. No one could say for certain who, but someone threw a ball of snow, striking Fíli on the shoulder. A smile quirked his lips, and all hell broke loose.
Snow flew in every direction, and no one was safe - not even Thorin as he and Dwalin emerged from the village. Fíli and Kíli tried to calm the young ones, but it was too late. A lump of snow exploded on Dwalin's impeccably tattooed head, and no one was safe.
"Right, then!" he roared as he scooped up an armful of ammunition. "Who wants some?!"