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Khuzdul - Du bekár! - To arms!

Then

Kíli chases after his older brother, holding a little wooden sword high above his head and bellowing the deepest war cry his young voice can make. Fíli keeps just barely ahead of him, carrying his own wooden sword and adding his voice to the mix. Behind them trails Nora, though she long since left that name behind.

One year ago, she'd returned to the doorstep of Dis's house in the night and fallen asleep in front of the door. That's how Flika found her while heading out to fetch water from the well. The children were very excited to see her again, and they'd begged their mother to let her stay. Dis had already decided her answer, but had waited for Thorin's agreement before giving it.

"Well, looks like the pup is going to be needing a proper name," she'd told them. There were squeals and "yay's" of joy, then they'd immediatly retreated to the living room with their cousin to decide on a name. Theyd offered up names like Bika, which sounded more appropriate for a bird; Khailo, which for some reason brought up a mental image of a cartoon mouse in a blue hat; Thradi, which she just simply didn't like; Faila, which she would not have been happy to have, as it sounded like it would jinx her to fail; and Khobe, which wasn't a bad name, and she wouldn't have minded; but they'd at last settled on one offered up by little Tari. And since then, the wolf-pup has been called Khiba. Luckily, that one was her favorite.

So now Fíli and Kíli are running around with wooden swords in a field of green, with their young pet wolf, Khiba, trailing after them. This is one of her favorite things to do. Most canine species love to run, and she especially loves to run with her pack - that is, her family. They'd taken her in, taken care of her, and treated her far better as an ab=nimal than either of her two previous "families" had when she was human.

Over the past year, she'd settled into a groove with the Durins. Every morning, she woke up either ten minutes before or ten minutes after the boys and went outside to relieve herself. She'd walk with Flika to the well and back, then after breakfast would accompany the boys to the forge (after much convincing of Thorin on Fíli and Kíli's part) on the three days a week they would go. After a long day of watching them learn (with food and water breaks here and there), she would accompany them back home. Occasionally Healer Kram would come to check on her; he would say she's in perfect health, but express confusion at her lack of growth, since she didn't seem to have aged very much at all, and also attribute her 3-meal-a-day appetite to her size. On 3 other days of the week, she would follow all three of the children on a ten-minute walk through the town to the second floor of a small building that had been made into a schoolhouse. Balin would teach sometimes; Maig, an elderly dam and the widow of Balin's oldest friend, would teach other times. Maig's son, Drelvek, was to carry on her profession later on and so sat in the classroom studying the art of teaching, and occasionally giving a lesson.

"Du bekár!" Fíli shouts, and he and his brother yell cries of war and charge the goblin ranks—or rather, they charge a straw dummy they'd dragged from the guard house and tied from a branch of a lone tree like a piñata. Little Khiba lets herself get lost in the antics of a wolf pup, and barks and yaps at the goblin-dummy, running around the boys' feet as they strike it. Then, Kíli turns to her and points his wooden sword at the dummy.

"Get him Khiba!" His brother cheers in agreement. Without further prompting, she lunges at the dummy. She latches her jaw onto its shoulder and hangs there while she shreds the straw with her claws. Their fun is cut short, however, by a loud horn sounding about a mile away in Ered Luin.

"What was that?" Kíli asks. His brother, not knowing how to answer, only looks at him and shrugs. Khiba, however, read plenty of fanfiction stories as Nora, and knows that it very likely is a herald of bad—or at least important—news. She strains her ears to hear what's going on. Among footsteps, squeaky cart wheels and other noises, there's Kram's voice mixed with others…what are they saying?…congratulations…boy…WHAT?!

She barks at the brothers, getting their attention, and takes off toward home, keeping her gate slow enough to not lose them. "Khiba! Wait!" they call after her, but she continues back toward the town, making sure the boys are right behind her. A boy. Gloin and Arika's baby is a boy! She feels slightly smug, since she always knew it was Gimli, but still. Only one third of the Khazad are dams, and not all of them ever find their One and marry. On top of that, conception is difficult for Dwarves, which is why so few siblings are born as close in age as Fíli and Kíli. The average number of children per family is three, and they are often decades apart in age. The birth of a dwarven babe is a blessing not just to the family, but to the community as well, and each one is cause for celebration.

They arrive at the gates of Ered Luin five minutes later, and are quickly ushered in. They receive a light scolding for being outside the town walls without an adult, but everyone is distracted by the happy news. The three of them hurry through the crowded streets, Khiba leading the way to Gloin's home. They soon arrive at a little house much like their own. Fíli knocks on the door and Kram lets them in. Khiba, not wanting to be a tripping hazard, makes her way to a corner and sits down as the boys are greeted by an ecstatic Gloin.

- linebreak -

Now

"Better?" Fíli asks, and she nods. He returns her nod and turns to the door, raising his fist to the wood and striking it multiple times in a knock.

Khiba hears shuffling from within the home, and lowers her head so as not to frighten poor Bilbo. From between the boys' shoulders, she stares at the door as it opens to reveal the Hobbit she's been most eager to meet for the past fifty-three years. So mesmerized by the sight of one of her favorite characters is she that she almost doesn't hear when the boys give their introduction.

"Fíli…"

"And Kíli…"

"…At your service." She forgets to make herself less frightening, and the Hobbit starts a bit as his eyes bug out. He is immediately distracted from her, however, by the two Dwarves' return to their full height.

"You must be Mr. Boggins!" She stifles a chuckle at that.

"Nope. You can't come in, you've come to the wrong house," he says as he begins to close the door. In a sudden surge of mild panic, the boys quickly move to block the door.

"What? Has it been canceled?" Kíli asks, distress evident in his voice.

"No one told us!" Fíli's voice is less strained and more confused, though he has decades of training to thank for that control.

"Ca-? No, nothing's been canceled—"

"That's a relief." As the stress was, the relief Kíli mentioned is clear in his voice. Completely forgetting their manners, they pass Bilbo and enter his home. Bilbo is suddenly reminded of the very large wolf standing before him now that there are no longer two Dwarves blocking his view of her. Knowing he's far more frightened than he looks, Khiba bows her head and lowers it to be level with his shoulders and adopts the most non-fierce expression she can manage with her canine features. With his mind so clearly scattered about, his expression softens and he sighs.

"Oh, come on in then. I suppose you cant make much more of a mess than they're bound to," says the Hobbit. With his permission, she walks slowly into the house so as no to frighten him any more than her appearance has. Fíli and Kíli are already removing their weapons, something she knows they would not have been so quick to do had they not been assured by a certain wizard that this was a friendly house.

"Careful with these, I just had 'em sharpened." The poor Hobbit staggers slightly under the sudden weight of Fíli's weapons being dropped in his arms, but quickly regains his balance. Kíli looks around appreciatively at the cozy home.

"It's nice, this place. Did you do it yourself?" he asks. In Ered Luin, most of the houses are inhabited by the people who built them. Those that are not are the homes of those who were too busy protecting the people at the time and whose friends and family did it for them. So to see a house that was so beautifully done and so homely (even if it is underground) is a treat. Even Khiba can appreciate it, despite already knowing what it looks like, now that she can see the little details.

"Wha—er, no. It's been in the family for yea—THAT'S MY MOTHER'S GLORY BOX! Can you please not do that?!" As though he hadn't heard Bilbo, Kíli continues to scrape the mud off his shoes that didn't fall off when he tapped his boots against the ground outside. Khiba growls to get his attention and glares at him. He adopts the most innocent expression he can muster and puts his hands up as if to say "I'm sorry." There's no time to make him apologize to Bilbo though, because at that very moment, Dwalin wraps his arm over the boy's shoulders and begins to steer him towards the dining room.

"Kíli! Come on, give us a hand." Kíli looks at the Dwarf who might as well have been a second uncle to him and Fíli with how closely he was involved in their upbringing. It's been nearly a year since they've seen him, as he's been accompanying merchants across the land.

"Mr. Dwalin!"

"Let's shove this in the hallway, otherwise we'll never get everyone in." At Balin's words, Khiba moves to help relocate the table. She crawls under it, stands up with it on her back, and walks to where it would be better placed.

"E-everyone?! How many more are there?" she hears as she gently sets the table down.

"Where do you want this?" Riiiing.

"No, n—THERE'S NOBODY HOME! GO AWAY AND BOTHER SOMEBODY ELSE! There's far too many Dwarves in my dining room as it is! I-i-if this is some CLOT-HEAD'S idea of a joke, ha ha! I can only say it is in very poor taste!" Bilbo laughs humorlessly as he pulls the door open. It's a good thing he stepped back with the door instead of merely cracking it because a great heap of Dwarves — eight to be exact — lands before him on the floor. As Bilbo gazes at them in astonishment, a certain grey wizard peeks his head under the door, catching the Hobbit's attention and irritation.

"Gandalf."