So I got the idea a couple days ago for a little 'Ri' brothers fic, and I just had to start writing it. This takes place pre-Smaug. Hope you enjoy!

Nori grinned and leaned back in his chair, propping his scuffed boots atop the dirty table. Gambling and drinking, a great way to forget about the day's crimes.

"It's your turn lad," muttered a dwarf from across the table. He tilted his mug of ale up to his mouth, his scarred face half-covered in shadow.

Nori didn't know his name, nor any of the other equally dangerous looking dwarves circled around the large table in the corner of the tavern. Thieves and criminals, that's all they were. The kind of people Nori loved to be around. But he knew from past experiences that it was always best to remain anonymous in the crime world, that way, no enemies could ever get to him or his family.

"No, I think I'm done for the night. That is, unless you're willing to lose more money to me." He grinned widely as he surveyed the large pile of glittering coins in front of him, substantially bigger than any other pile on the table.

The only response to his words were various grunts of relief, particularly from an old, crippled dwarf hunched in a corner. He had lost all his winnings to Nori during the last game.

"Alright then, I'll be off." He pulled a small satchel out of his pocket and scooped his winnings into it, enjoying the loud clinking noise of the coins that only exaggerated his luck further.

The eyes of everyone in the pub upon him, Nori fastened his cloak around his shoulders and gave the others a sort of half-hearted salute.

"See you lot later." Leaving his empty glass and a single coin on edge of the bar, Nori left.

The cold wind stung his face after the warm, musty air of the tavern but Nori couldn't have been in better spirits. His mind had gone a little foggy after his fourth mug of ale, and his glee at the day's profit. The quiet yet persistent noise of the coins in his pockets reminded him that he would finally be going home, at least for a few days.

Lately his life had fallen into a particularly tough but simple rhythm. Like always, it started at home. As much as he hated to admit it, Nori was at his happiest when he was with his brothers. At least little Ori looked up to him, though Dori disapproved of practically everything he did.

But Nori couldn't help it. Crime and the night, they both called to him, tempting him with the prospect of adventure. Dori would have none of it. Nori had been told all too often by him that he was a bad example for his brother. Nori was more than happy to for Ori to learn things like stealing and fighting, which were extremely important in dire situations. But Dori seemed determined to keep Ori innocent, teaching him knitting and painting and almost never letting him out of his sight.

So Nori would leave his home for the darker parts of Dale, where the all of the poor, vicious, and devious hung around, where no do-good dwarf like Dori would ever be caught dead. Here, Nori was truly alive. Every day was filled with a new adventure, each more dangerous and profitable than the last.

He would steal and fight, and then waste almost all of his money on alcohol and gambling. Some nights he was lucky, and walked away from the bars unscathed and with pockets full of coins, much like this night. Nori knew Dori couldn't refuse him when he appeared on their doorstep with money, no matter how much he disproved of where Nori had gotten it from. Money meant food, clothing, and shelter and Nori knew how much it meant to Dori that Ori was raised in a proper home.

Nori never told them of his travels. Some things were best left unsaid, even when he practically crawled back to his family with broken limbs and covered in bruises, needing Dori's motherly skills to nurse him back to health. This was how he lived, shrouded in secrets, doing all that he needed to survive.

He was the only one walking confidently down the dark south side of Dale. Every now and then a flickering moment caught his eye, but he stayed unalarmed, knowing that those with something to hide darted from alley to alley in attempts to stay hidden. Tonight was one of the few nights that he was not one of these dwarves, but the bright glint of a small knife hidden up his sleeve reminded him to not become overconfident. Even he of all people could easily be robbed and beaten, left on the side of the streets like trash.

As the east of Dale came closer, it was like stepping into another world. Here, every building was brightly lit and instead of the sounds of enraged yelling and of fighting from inside shifty taverns there was singing and laughter, and the smell of food drifting out of windows tempted Nori like nothing else.

He could have followed the path back to his home with his eyes closed. He soon recognized all the houses along the trail and the dwarves who could only afford a quick glance at him. Like always, their eyes would widen and they would all but run away. Nori sighed. He was used to treatment like this from normal folk.

Suddenly there he was, facing the all too familiar door, runes intricately carved into the redwood. There was no need to knock, for he had a key. He pulled it out of one of his many pockets with shaking hands. It slid into the keyhole and he turned it with a gentle kick. The soft sound of voices from inside fell silent. When he pushed the door open, the creaking noise it made felt much too loud to his ears.

As the door opened, Nori barely had time to register the familiar entry room, with its comfortable armchairs and roaring fireplace that bathed the stone walls in a warm light. A flash of soft red hair passed over his eyes and suddenly there was a heavy weight in his arms.

"Nori! Nori, you're back!" The small child in his arms squealed in delight and buried his head against Nori's chest.

"Hello Little One," Nori said softly, heart leaping at the sight of his brother, happy and safe. He ran a hand through Ori's hair and held him tight. Maybe this really was where he belonged.

"So, I see you're home," said a stiff voice. Nori looked up to see his brother Dori leaning against the wooden frames of a doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, his face looked stern. "It's nice to see that for once you aren't a bloody mess." Nori's spirits plummeted.

"I have money," he stated plainly. Ori stared up at him with wide eyes, his small hands tangled in Nori's beard.

"I don't want it," Dori said firmly, shaking his head in disgust. "Why do you keep coming back here?"

"Because I know you would never turn me down, brother." Nori pushed emphasis on the last word, and grinned when Dori didn't argue against him.

Dori sighed. "How much?"

"Enough to sustain us for quite a few months." He shifted Ori into one arm and used the other to reach into his pocket and pull out his satchel, filled to the brim with coins. He could see Dori's eyes glint briefly at the prospect of the money they so sorely needed.

"I suppose there's no asking where you got this from?" It was the same question Dori posed whenever he returned home. Nori's answer was always the same, no matter how many times he was asked.

"None at all."

Dori rolled his eyes and heaved himself off the wall, walking towards the bag in Nori's outstretched hand. He froze just as his fingers were brushing against the leather, his eyes narrowing.

"You've been drinking again, haven't you?"

"That's none of your concern," Nori spat, straightening himself up so that he towered over Dori, attempting to look tough even with Ori in his arms.

"It's all of my concern where my brother's been, thank you very much! Don't try to deny it, you reek of alcohol." Dori's voice grew louder and Ori cringed.

"A few drinks, yes. I do believe I'm entitled to enjoying myself every now and then. I'm the only one who does any useful work in this family, after all." He roughly shoved the money into Dori's hands and carefully lowered Ori into one of the large armchairs. "I'll upstairs, if you want me," he growled through gritted teeth.

He stormed up the wooden staircase, ignoring the disapproving look Dori was giving him, and the miserable one Ori had.

A couple of days, maybe a week at most. That was all he was going to stay home for, then he would sneak away in the dead of night, like usual. He clearly wasn't wanted, Dori had shown him that. He had no respect for Nori's hard work. He had no idea what Nori went through everyday just for their family. It was really only worth being home for Ori, the way he smiled so trustingly at him. The poor lad had no clue what Nori got up to in his absence.

Home then crime, nights spent sleeping curled up in thin sheets on the streets, eating disgusting food in the mangy inns on the dark side of town, and back home again, where he was never respected and never understood. It was a miserable pattern to live by, but it was one that Nori had long grown accustomed to, and one which he knew he would follow his entire life.

After Kíli and Fíli, these three are probably my favorite brothers in all of The Hobbit, so I'll probably be writing more stories surrounding them in the future. At the moment I have a few other one shots that I'm working on: a Kíli and Fíli one , a Bofur one, and a Bilbo one. Hopefully I'll finish those and post them soon!

Prompts are always welcome! Thanks for reading!