Kili… son of Dis, grandson of Thráin, great-grandson of Thrór, Dwalin thought to himself, watching the dark-haired youth practicing sparring maneuvers with his older brother, both of them half naked and laughing, you will indeed be the death of me.

Days like this were few and far between on their quest, but the group had needed time to hunt, bathe and care for their new steeds. The early autumn air was still very warm and the young heirs of Durin were overjoyed at a chance to simply have fun. Dwalin chuckled as Fili tackled Kili at the waist, sitting on his hips and pinning Kili's hands down on either side of his head. Both were breathing hard, sharing a secret smile between them. Fili rose to his feet and pulled his brother to a standing position. Without words, he led Kili down to the stream.

Dwalin was envious. He hadn't always been a battle-hardened dwarf. There was a time when he too had been able to throw back his head and laugh, as if he hadn't a care in the world. And he could remember a time when he and Thorin sparred, just like Kili and Fili were doing right now. The memory brought a fond smile to his face.

Thorin has been a beautiful youth—thick dark hair and such penetrating eyes. Then, his grandfather went mad, Smaug descended and Thorin had been forced to grow up far too quickly. Dwalin counted himself fortunate to have known Thorin as a lover and friend, before his heart was consumed with revenge.

So much like Kili, he had been. That throaty, effortless laugh and easy smile. He exuded sexuality, even when he wasn't trying to. Thorin too had been slow to grow a beard, and back then was a fierce friend, as loyal in the pub as on the battlefield—and a wildcat in the bedchamber.

Dwalin shifted uncomfortably, adjusting himself as his erection betrayed him. His war hammer, Thorin had called it in jest. And Dwalin had been gifted with a large one. While he could recall glorious bedtime romps with Thorin, he'd had the opportunity to be with Kili as well.

Not long before Thorin invited his fellow dwarves to join him in retaking Erebor, Dwalin had been visiting Thorin's home in the Blue Mountains, and had dinner with Thorin, Dis and her sons. Much wine was consumed, and in a rare display of relaxation, Thorin allowed Dwalin to tell the boys stories of their adventures in Erebor during its glory days.

Kili, especially, was enthralled. Sitting next to the grizzled dwarf, he'd called him "Mr. Dwalin" at his mother's urging and was constantly touching his forearm or laying his leg against Dwalin's under the table. The mannerisms were so achingly reminiscent of Thorin's that Dwalin's heart fluttered.

"There's still some daylight left, Mr. Dwalin," Kili had begged him after dinner. "Will you come out and show me that stance you suggested?" Thorin has bragged Dwalin's archery skills to his nephew's. But something about the way Kili was looking at him made him certain the boy was interested in more than bows and arrows.

"I suppose I can, laddie," Dwalin agreed easily enough. "Get your bow, then."

Kili smiled winningly and ran off. Not long after, he'd led Dwalin to a secluded clearing not far from their home. "I practice here," Kili confessed. He pointed to some make-shift targets he'd set up at the far end. "Show me the shot?" he smiled.

"I hope I don't embarrass myself," Dwalin said gently. "Thorin speaks of me too generously. I haven't used a bow in decades." He removed his outer jerkin, afraid the fur might get in the way of his shot. He laid the garment on the ground and stood up, arms bare. Kili's eyes were drawn to the myriad of tattoos revealed on Dwalin's arms and hands, and studied them without speaking.

"They tell a story, laddie. Mostly of battle," Dwalin told him. "Of victory, and of loss as well."

Kili nodded. "I'm not sure such permanent adornments would suit me," he ruminated. "But this I am rather fond of," he tentatively touched the silver cuff on Dwalin's ear lobe.

"That's simply for my own vanity," Dwalin threw back his head and chuckled. He ran one of his fingers over the curve of Kili's ear. "You could have one, yet,"

He couldn't help but notice the shiver that passed through Thorin's nephew at that intimate touch.

"Well, it certainly becomes you," Kili told him, handing him his bow and a single arrow.

Dwalin could feel Kili's expectant eyes on him as he drew back the string. The boy's weapon had a good draw, and the sound as he let the arrow fly was satisfying. So was the thunk it made upon hitting the center of the target.

"Uncle didn't embellish your skills, Mr. Dwalin!" Kili grinned. "Let me try?"

He accepted the weapon from Dwalin, fitting an arrow to the bowstring. Carefully he drew it back, trying to mimic what Dwalin had shown him.

"Wait a moment, laddie," Dwalin interrupted. "You'll need to raise your elbow a bit more," he went up behind the boy, putting a hand around his waist and flat on his stomach to steady him. With the other, he lightly guided Kili's elbow up a bit and slightly out from his body. "Do you feel the difference? The little bit of extra power it will give you?" Dwalin's breath, sweet with wine, ghosted over his ear, and the boy trembled.

"Y-yes," he said softly, and for a brief moment he allowed his weight to press back against Dwalin. Then, with determination, he restated his stance and let the arrow fly with much-practiced speed. It landed nearly on top of Dwalin's.

Lowering the bow, but not turning around, he turned his head expectantly to the other dwarf. "I think I may want to be with you, Mr. Dwalin," Kili admitted.

"And what do you know of being with another in that way, dwarfling?" Dwalin chided him. But he didn't push Kili away. He brought his hands to the youth's hips and fit himself snugly against his backside, so that Kili could get a clearer understanding of what he was in for.

"Mr. Dwalin," Kili gasped. "I am not a child. You would not be my first," he told him, and as if to punctuate that point, he ground his ass purposefully against Dwalin's throbbing erection. He dropped his bow to the ground and turned to face the warrior.

"By Aulë, Kili," Dwalin breathed, taking in the youth's exquisite smoldering eyes. "You will surely be the death of this old dwarf." Grabbing a handful of Kili's hair, he tilted his head to the side and placed a tentative bite to the side of Kili's neck. As Kili whimpered in pleasure, Dwalin deepened the bite with his tongue, leaving a mark Thorin was sure to question—and sure to recognize.

"Over here," Kili pulled Dwalin toward the leather he'd discarded and eased him down on top of him. Kili's mouth opened in a soundless o of pleasure as Dwalin cupped him through his breeches. "Let me see you, Mr. Dwalin," Kili begged him, and he bit at his lower lip as Dwalin disrobed.

"By Mahal!" Kili gasped as Dwalin produced his massive, leaking organ. "You truly are a mountain of a dwarf."

"Then you, Kili, shall truly be the prince under the mountain this night," Dwalin smiled. He lowered himself over the youth, working his trousers open with one hand as he caressed Kili's nearly hairless face with the other.

"I think I shall enjoy that very much," Kili drew him down for a deep kiss. "Want you, Dwalin," he gasped, as Dwalin cupped his bare ass with both hands.

Dwalin was pulled from his reverie by a splash of cool water across his bald head. "Wake up, Mr. Dwalin!' Kili smiled from where he was standing over him, with only a blanket wrapped around his waist to protect his modesty.

"Ah, Kili," Dwalin smiled fondly at the youth. "You woke me from a wonderful dream, about a clearing in the Blue Mountains." He reached for Kili's hand.

"I too have that dream sometimes," Kili's eyes found his and pulled the larger man to his feet. "Come. I found a spot downstream where you can bathe in privacy."

"In privacy?" Dwalin's voice was barely a whisper.

"Relative privacy," Kili smiled. "For I do plan to join you, Mr. Dwalin. That is, if you can keep up with me!"

"Oh, laddie," Dwalin growled, daring to lift a hand and put it over Kili's heart. "This day, I know I can."