Fíli hugged me when I moved back into the main room, beaming brightly. His brother was propped up against a cushion, chewing on the head of a toy soldier.

"You smell much better now, Uncle." Fíli dragged me to sit on the rug. "Now you can be the dragon." He frowned, "Kíli is not very good at this game."

I watched the brown haired dwarfling. "He seems to enjoy eating your warriors."

"Yes, but I can't hit him with anything. He's too small, and I might hurt him. It wouldn't be…" He paused, seeming to search for the word. "I wouldn't be trying to hurt him, but I don't know." He picked up a stick sword, and pointed to an alcove on the other side of the fire. "The dragon stays over there."

I began to move away.

"Wait!" Fíli shouted, with the jubilance of a small child. "You need to have wings." He dragged the blanket off the back of one of the chairs. "Here."

I draped the patchwork cloth over my shoulders, and straightened.

"No." Fíli stamped. "Dragons crawl."

I rolled my eyes skyward, and prayed to Mahal for patience. "Like this?" It was difficult to crawl and keep the blanket in the proper position, and Fíli stopped me twice more before I reached the alcove.

"Mama is much better at this game." He scolded, retreating to when Kíli was still chewing on the soldier. He retrieved a second sword from under the cushions of one of the chairs, grinning wickedly, and stuck it into the side of his pants. Then he found a smaller weapon, resting on the rocks of the mantle, for his brother.

Kíli, still with the wooden soldier firmly in his mouth, took the blade gleefully. I glanced around for Dis, wondering if she knew what her eldest son had in store for me. I thought I could see her head poking around the arch into the kitchen, but I couldn't be sure.

Fíli pulled his brother to his feet, and pointed him in my direction. Then he sighed at waved his sword at me. "Uncle Thorin, you have to act like a dragon now."

I was not entirely sure how to go about being a dragon. From my experience, dragons were not things that little boys should be thinking about. Fíli stamped his foot again, and I realized that I did not really have a choice. I hunched my shoulders and growled a bit.

Fíli turned back to his brother. "Kíli." He knelt so the smaller boy could look him in the face. "That," He pointed his sword at me, "is a dragon. Do you remember what we do to dragons?"

Kíli nodded vigorously, and spit out the soldier's head. "Kill da dwagon!"

"Yes." Fíli let go of his arm, staying close in case his brother should stumble. "Now, I'll go in first and distract it, and then you go pull it's wings off."

Kíli nodded again, flailing around with his little sword. Fíli pulled the second blade out of his pants, and snuck closer. I flapped my 'wings' and growled some more.

"Say something mean." Fíli whispered, once he was close enough. He was hiding on the other side of the fireplace, sticking his head around to watch me.

I remembered, vaguely, what Smaug had jeered at us as he claimed Erebor as his own. The memory did not sting so much as it used to, it had dulled to an ache.

"Who dares to challenge me?" I roared, in my deepest voice. "I am Smaug, the firebreather! I am Smaug the magnificent! No mere dwarf shall defeat me!" I prowled, still on hands and knees, in my alcove.

Fíli leapt around the corner, brandishing his swords. Kíli gave a started giggle, and sat down abruptly. "I challenge you, Smaug the terrible! I, Fíli, of the line of Durin shall slay you!" He dashed at me, swiping his swords at my arms and legs as he danced around.

It took me several precious seconds to realize that my blond nephew expected me to fight back, which I did. I snatched him up by the ankle, carefully to keep ahold of my 'wings'.

"I have you now!" I roared, swatting away the blows from his swords.

"Kíli!" Fíli cried, "Save me!" He tried to kick my hand away with his other foot, but I caught that one as well. Unfortunately, that left me unable to block the blows from his swords. One nearly caught me on the nose, before I ducked me head and gritted my teeth. My nephew was strong, despite his small size.

"Dwagon!" Kíli toddled over, thumping his stick sword against the floor, and the side of the fire, and then tripping himself with it. He rolled onto his hands and knees and crawled the rest of the way, the weapon forgotten.

"Its wings!" Fíli shouted, managing to pull one leg free from my grip. I cast him gently to the ground, making sure that he would not strike his head on the stone floor, and turned to the smaller boy.

Kíli had wrapped his hands in the blanket, and was pulling the cloth hard. I allowed him to get a better grip, relaxing my own hold on the cloth. He gave a ferocious tug, fell backward, and dragged the blanket off my shoulders.

"Dwagon!" He flailed under the blanket, momentarily stymied.

Fíli gave a whoop of victory, and leapt on my head. I did not expect his pounce, and tipped to the side alarmingly. I was only saved from defeat by the tight confines of the space, my shoulder striking the wall before I fell to the ground.

"Curse you, Fíli son of Fróri!" I hissed, "You have taken my wings!" I twisted and pawed at the boy, who laughed and thumped me on the back with his swords.

"Feewee!" Kíli latched himself onto one of my arms, battering me with tiny fists. "Dwagon!"

I rolled carefully onto my back, since the boys seemed to think that I was vanquished, and made a show of dying.

"Fíli and Kíli, oh bravest of dwarves, you have defeated me! Let you be know forever more as the killers of the great Smaug!" I rasped and clawed at the air, and then fell limp.

Fíli leapt up and danced around me, brandishing his swords. Then he lifted his brother to his feet, so little Kíli could do the same. The smaller boy leapt up and down on my stomach, and I fought not to cringe. Perhaps it was good that I had not eaten.

"Leave your uncle alone, lads. Can't you see that he's dead?" Dwalin's voice was unusually gentle as he spoke, mirth bubbling just below the surface.

Fíli knelt by my head and tapped my cheek. "He's not really, master Dwalin. We were just playing."

I opened my eyes and struck at once, wrapping the boy in my arms and tickling him mercilessly. Kíli took offense and tried to pull my hands away, and began to pout when I did not immediately stop.

"Dwagon!" He shouted, slapping my arm, "Dwagon, dwagon, dwagon!"

I left Fíli escape, and ruffled to younger boy's hair carefully. "I wouldn't hurt your brother."

Kíli ignored me, and toddled to where Fíli sat, panting, on the rug. "Feewee." He hugged the bigger boy, and arranged himself in his brother's lap.

"Uncle Thorin isn't actually a dragon." Fíli explained, brushing some of the tangles from the toddler's hair. "He was just playing, like you do sometimes."

Kíli nodded, picking up the discarded soldier and putting it back in his mouth.

I straightened, brushing the worst of the wrinkles out of my clothes. "You will not speak of this to anyone." I informed Dwalin, in a low voice.

"No one would believe me, even if I did." He seemed to be choking on his laughter. "The mighty Thorin Oakensheild, defeated by a couple of dwarflings."

I grunted, and watched Fíli help Kíli into the big armchair. Then he climbed up and curled around his little brother, dragging another blanket down on top of them.

"Where did Dis go?" I asked, taking one of the empty seats. "I assume she left you to look after these two."

"Dori had something for her." Dwalin flopped into the remaining chair, stretching out with a groan. "She'll be back," He forced his voice into a higher key, "faster than you can blink."

I watched the sleeping boys, wishing that I had a pipe. My old one had broken at the beginning of the journey, and I had not had time to fashion another.

"It's good to see you're taking an interest in them." Dwalin said, almost hesitantly.

"I made a promise." My chest ached at the thought of my old friend, though it was less painful than it had been before. "It is time that I kept it."

"Have you told Dis?" Dwalin produced his pipe from a pocket, and began filling it.

I shook my head, feeling guilty. "I was going to, when she arrived. But his dead hurt her deeply, and I did not want my presence to remind her of her husband." I tugged at a lose strand on the hem of my tunic. I did not want to admit my weakness, even if it was just Dwalin. I did not want to say that I had not been ready, not when Fíli looked so much like his father. Not when that blood was still so fresh on my hands.

Dwalin scratched his chin, and lit his pipe, and said nothing.

"You don't have anything to say?" My voice had been too loud, and the children curled in the chair shifted in their sleep.

My friend's lips drew into a faint frown, just for a moment. "You needed time. There's naught wrong with that."

I waited to his inevitable judgment, the expression on his face that would tell me that I was just a weak as I feared. But he simply puffed on his pipe, blowing several lopsided smoke rings. I may have been too quick to judge Dwalin's character. He had never given me any reason to think that he held me in low regard. In fact, the opposite might have been true. He had been a warrior in his own right, and I just a boy, when we had become friends. Never once had he accused me of being weak, in all those years.

The door opened quietly, and Dis slipped inside. Her eyes fell onto her children first, softening visibly, and then turned to Dwalin and I. She sighed at the smell of pipe smoke, and snatched the offensive implement out of Dwalin's mouth with a swat at his shoulder.

"Not until they're older, Dwalin. Remember what I asked?" She placed the pipe carefully on the mantle, and tossed a wrapped package into my lap. "Those are yours. Dori sends his regards."

"I will repay you." Clothes were not free, as far as I could tell. Though I had not actually tried to buy anything since we had left the old settlement.

Dis shrugged out of her cloak, hanging it carefully on a hook, and knelt in front of the chair. She brushed Kíli's hair out of his face, and kissed Fíli on the forehead.

"There's no need." She beckoned us into the kitchen, and closed the door. "It's so rare that they both fall asleep at the same time." She explained, "I don't want to wake them."

"They fought a mighty battle with a dragon." Dwalin helped himself to part of a loaf of bread. "Seems that it was quiet tiring."

"A dragon?" Dis smiled mischievously at me, nearly the same expression that Fíli had worn earlier.

I coughed, and cursed Dwalin's inability to keep anything a secret. I glared at him. "Fíli wanted to play, and I was not aware that there was anyone else in the house to entertain him."

"And so you let him convince you to be a dragon?" Dis raised her eyebrows, and stole the remnants of the bread from my friend. "That's for later, dolt."

Dwalin took the insult in his stride, leaning his chair back on two legs. "Quite a convincing dragon, actually. He could roar and everything."

I kicked the leg of the chair, and sent him sprawling to the ground. "No one asked you."

The big warrior only laughed, and proceeded to smirk at my sister. "You have quite lovely ankles, my lady."

Dis rolled her eyes, and looked at me accusingly.

"That is my sister, Dwalin. I would have you hold your tongue." There was no real menace in my threat, but is was the proper thing to say.

"For the love of-" Dis sighed. "And I was doing to ask both of you to stay for dinner."

Dwalin leapt to his feet, suddenly almost chaste. "I did not mean it." Now it was his turn to appeal to me, "Tell her that I was joking."

I glanced at my sister out of the corner of my eye, and caught the glimmer of mischief that still lingered about her. "I would not worry, friend. I think she's sharper than you give her credit for."

Dwalin looked between the two of us, and carefully set his chair upright again. "That's not entirely fair. There are two of you."

Dis shrugged, and began assigning us tasks for the evening meal. I kept my mind diligently on my work, and left the small talk to my sister and Dwalin. They did not seem to mind my silence, and chatted amiably. It seemed that Dwalin had been spending most of his free time with my nephews, trying to keep the boys out of trouble.

There was a lull in the work, and in the conversation, just before the meal was finished. Dwalin had gone to wake the boys, and I took my chance to talk to my sister alone.

"Dis." I began, and then hesitated.

"Thorin." She was making some kind of list on a scrap of parchment, and I waited until I had her full attention.

"Before your husband died, I made a promise to him." I locked my mind on the words, even as it tried to stray to that day. To the tree—but no. I would not return there, not now.

Dis lost her disinterested expression, and grew very still. "You do not have to do this."

I raised a hand, quieting her before I lost my momentum. "He asked me to look after you and your sons. He wanted them to have-" My voice began to waver as my mental walls started to break. "He did not want you to have to raise them on your own." I sucked in a breath, and began to count the rings in the wooden table. One, two, three, four. He way lying beneath the tree, blood staining the snow. Five, six, seven, eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. The forges in Erebor, and how the flames would turn bright blue when they were hot enough. The smell of the metal in the air, hot and familiar, like the way my father had always smelled.

I jumped in my seat when Dis wrapped her arms around me. I had closed my eyes, to better see the forge, and she had made no noise.

"Thank you." Her voice was thick and close to breaking. She leaned her head on my shoulder for a brief moment, and then we heard the voices of her sons and parted. I turned to stir the stew, if only to gain a few extra seconds to set my voice in the proper expression, and I heard Dis move into the pantry, no doubt doing the same.

Balin joined us for the evening meal, arriving with ink still staining his fingers. He gave me a broad smile, and filled the occasional stilted silence with news of the town. It seemed that work had been progressing far more quickly than I had anticipated. The mines were nearly deep enough to being bringing up precious metals, and some particularly eager masons had drawn plans for a great hall within the mountain. I did not spoil the good mood by reminding everyone that we had no king, and so the hall would sit empty. It was not the right time.

Fíli and Kíli bounced in their seats and complained about the variety of vegetables, and pleaded for another sweet from Balin. By the end of the evening, though, they were both yawning and nodding off on their plates. I helped Dis carry them to bed, tucking Kíli safely next to his brother. They curled together, even so deeply asleep, brown and blond hair mixing on the pillow.

We sat and talked late into the night, before Dwalin and Balin took their leave. I moved to follow them, but my sister held me back.

"Stay the night." He voice was strong, but her posture was unsure. "I know you've been sleeping in the forges. It wouldn't due to get your clean clothes all dirty."

I glanced around, hoping that something would give me the excuse not to stay. "Just one night. I will not intrude upon your hospitality."

Thanks for reading! My muse has decided to work really slowly on this on for now, so updates might end up being infrequent. I do have every intention of finishing the story though, so bear with me. Leave a review if something catches your eye! (They're always very motivational)