Here we are, my friends - the last chapter. I have some ideas for other stories in this universe, but this one is done. Many thanks to all who've read, and especially those who've commented - and, of course, a special thanks to the anonymous commenters, who I can't reply to any other way. I hope you enjoy the conclusion!

X

When Bilbo awoke, it took him several moments to understand where he was. All was shadows, and he could see little but the outline of a curtained window, dark grey within a wall of black. He had fallen asleep in his chair, but now he was certainly in a bed - a warm and comfortable bed, at that - but it was not the bed that he had been sleeping in for the past few nights, of that he was sure. What was more, when he flung out an arm towards the corner of the bed, he found no little dwarf sleeping propped up there - nothing, indeed, but cold, empty space - and this, combined with the sudden realisation that the odd, quiet noise that had awakened him was someone muttering, was enough to make him sit up in alarm.

When he did so, he realised immediately that his situation was not in any way threatening. He was in bed indeed, but not in the disused little guest room, nor yet in his own room, grown cold and a little dusty now from lack of use. No, he was in the guest room, tucked into the little bed that he and Hamfast had dragged in there during Fili's illness. The muttering was proceeding from the other bed and when Bilbo listened, he recognised the voice as Kili's. The words took a moment longer to become clear, and for an unpleasant moment he thought they might be Black Speech. But there was none of the crawling feeling on his skin that accompanied any hearing of that language, and in fact, when he listened more closely, he realised - somewhat to his surprise - that it was Khuzdul.

Well, this was all very peculiar, and Bilbo hastened to light the lamp beside his bed so that he could understand quite what it was that was occurring. When he did so, he saw that the other bed was fully occupied, Fili sleeping sprawled out across most of it, while Kili sat propped in the cushion-filled corner, his eyes open and glinting a little in the lamplight. He had fallen silent when the light had flared, and now he sat watching Bilbo and looking rather tense in the shadowy corner.

For a moment, Bilbo wondered if perhaps he had dreamed everything that had happened in the last week or two - for here were Kili and Fili, just as they had been before Fili's illness, and here he was, too, awake in the middle of the night, just as before. But no - for the pictures were taken down from the walls, and when Bilbo rose from the bed and brought the lamp closer, he saw that the shadows of fading bruises still stood out along Kili's jaw.

"Bad dreams, my lad?" he asked softly.

Kili nodded, his face dark with trouble. Bilbo sighed and held out his hand.

"Well, then," he said, "let us go and look at the sky."

Outside, the crescent moon was skimming the treetops and the stars were scattered across the blackness like so many tiny flowers. Bilbo sat on his bench and leaned back against the hillside, puffing on his pipe and remembering with remarkable clarity the first night he had met Kili, when he had stood in the wildlands and watched Earendil sailing across the sky, and talked loudly to himself out of fear of the dark little creature who sat tied to a tree behind him. If he had known then that more than a year later he would be sitting outside his own home keeping company with that same dark little creature, what would he have thought? Oh, he would have dismissed any such knowledge as lunacy, no doubt! But sometimes life is stranger than our imaginings allow - even the imaginings of a hobbit with Took blood - and here he was nonetheless.

"It is a lovely night to be out," he said to Kili, who had spoken not a word since Bilbo had lit his lamp, but had begun to appear a little more himself since they had come outside. "I should have been sorry to miss it!"

Kili did not seem at all convinced by this pronouncement. He frowned at Bilbo. "You want sleep," he muttered. "Not want be awake. Hobbits not awake in night."

"Not most of the time, it is true," Bilbo said. "But there is nothing wrong with waking up in the night every now and then!"

"I not now and then," Kili said. "I every night. Every night, dream bad. Why always dream bad? Why I can not sleep?" He looked suddenly intensely frustrated, and although he stared still at the sky, it was with an expression of tight-mouthed misery.

Bilbo had no answer to these questions - or in fact, he had an answer, but it was nothing that Kili did not already know - and so instead he racked his brain trying to think of a solution. "Well," he ventured after a moment or two, "I know you did not want this before, but if you have changed your mind, I could make you some of the valerian root tea? Only if you want it, of course."

Kili turned to look at him, then frowned and looked away. "I not want this," he said.

Bilbo was not sure whether to be disappointed that his scheme had been rejected or pleased that Kili had apparently had little difficulty in expressing what he wanted. In the end, he settled for mild concern, and he patted his friend's arm. He was about to make some comment about hot milk when the front door of Bag End opened and Fili stepped through, looking rumpled and rather sleepy.

"Oh, hello, you are out here!" he said, stumping over and dropping heavily onto the bench beside Kili. "You could have woken me."

"There is no need for everyone to be losing sleep," Bilbo said.

Fili raised his eyebrows a little at this. "Well, wake me next time," he said firmly, and then turned to Kili. "Another nightmare, my brother?" he said.

Kili's mouth twitched, but he did not answer. Fili sighed. "Why will they not leave you in peace?" he murmured, though he did not seem to expect an answer, and indeed he received none.

A short silence fell then, of a character that was a little too disconsolate for Bilbo's liking, so that after a few moments he was casting around for something to say to change the subject. His eye alighted on Fili's hair, now adorned with two somewhat lumpy and inexpertly woven braids.

"Ah, master dwarf!" he said, "you are become a dwarf again, indeed." He turned to Kili and smiled. "A fine job you have done with your brother's hair, to be sure."

Fili smiled with genuine pleasure, but Kili stared at the braids and frowned.

"Not good braid," he said. "It is not right."

"They are very good," Bilbo said staunchly, "and anyway, it is more important to your brother that they were made by your hand than that they are perfect, isn't that so?"

"It is so, indeed," Fili replied, but Kili did not seem in the least mollified.

"I make again?" he said. "Make better?"

"There is no need!" Bilbo cried. But Fili considered his brother for a long moment, and then nodded.

"I am proud to wear them," he said, "but if you wish to make them again, of course you may. It is an honour." He removed the bead from the end of one of his braids and presented it to Kili. "Do you remember the words of the prayer?"

"Yes, I remember this," Kili said. He hesitated briefly before taking the bead, and Bilbo saw that his hands were shaking. Yet he did not demur, but reached up to begin to unweave the offending braid. When it was all untangled, he ran his fingers through Fili's hair and closed his eyes a moment, then began to murmur in Khuzdul. To Bilbo's surprise, he recognised some of the words as those that Kili had been muttering when he woke up.

"Well, if you can learn that, you can certainly learn do," Bilbo muttered, but quietly enough so that neither of the dwarves would hear him. In any case, they seemed not to be listening: Fili had his eyes closed and was leaning towards his brother, perhaps unconsciously. Kili, for his part, was concentrating fiercely on his task, separating Fili's hair into three parts with his trembling hands while the words of the prayer dropped from his lips. And, just as earlier in the evening, something about the deep, sonorous sound of the dwarven language seemed to creep into Bilbo's bones, leaving him speechless and oddly heavy, as though the very name of Mahal, intoned over and again, had caused his bones to begin to turn to iron. He sagged back against the hillside and wondered if, indeed, the god of the dwarves was watching them now, just as he had been in Erebor all those months ago.

Kili was a little more than half-way through constructing the braid when he paused in both his speech and his actions, frowning and fingering his handiwork. Bilbo, rousing himself from his daze, was about to ask what the matter was when Kili began to unweave the braid again, shaking his head and muttering something. When Fili's hair was loose once more, he began the prayer again, and Bilbo shook his head and sat back, alternately watching the stars and Kili's hands, feeling all but hypnotised by the slow, steady chant and the intricate motions. And when Kili reached the mid-point of the braid once more, it seemed he was still not satisfied, and his work disappeared twice as fast as it had arrived.

So this odd process continued, Kili weaving the same braid into his brother's hair again and again, the words of the prayer rolling out across the grassy hillside under the stars, bringing the light of forge-fire and the glint of gold to a place that neither knew nor cared for such things. Somewhere along the way, it seemed that Fili fell asleep, for he began leaning heavily on his brother, his eyes still closed. Kili, however, did not let this deter him, but only continued his work, though at a rather awkward angle. And, when Bilbo was half-dreaming himself - and oh, his waking dreams were filled with strange dwarvish faces and deep, lightless caverns! - the prayer suddenly came to an end - not a stop, this time, but a true end. Bilbo sat up, rubbing his eyes, and found Kili contemplating the braid he had woven - and this one was perfect, neither lumpy nor inexpertly made, despite the difficulty caused by the angle of Fili's head as he snored lightly on his brother's shoulder.

"Well, that is very good indeed," Bilbo said, his voice a little croaky.

Kili glanced at him. "Prayer is Mahal protect," he said. "If braid is good, Mahal protect. That is prayer ask." He stared at the braid for a long moment, then nodded. "Yes, it is good," he said.

Bilbo, feeling suddenly enlightened as to why Kili was so determined to get the braid right - and indeed, perhaps as to what it was that Kili had been dreaming about - smiled and patted his arm. "It is perfect," he said. "I'm sure Mahal will be very happy with it."

Kili sat back, carefully manoeuvring Fili so that he would not lose his balance, and then seemed to slump, as if suddenly exhausted. And yet, it was not such a bad thing - for it was very late, after all, and what was more, something seemed to have changed. When Bilbo had brought Kili outside, he had been tense and shaking, but now he seemed almost boneless, and the trembling of his hands had subsided entirely.

"Braiding seems to rather agree with you, my lad," he chuckled.

"Mahal protect," Kili murmured, seeming to be quickly following his brother into sleep.

"Ah, no you don't," Bilbo said, shaking him gently. "We will all be sleeping in beds tonight!"

Kili blinked at him, but seemed to understand. Bilbo set about rousing Fili enough to get them all inside, and once they were there, Fili - though apparently still mostly asleep - wasted no time installing Kili in his corner and then collapsing onto the bed himself in his customary messy sprawl. He was asleep almost instantly, one hand creeping out to grasp his brother's ankle.

"Well," Bilbo said with a quiet chuckle, "I suppose we all do have quite a lot of sleep to catch up on." He turned then to Kili. "But you must wake me if you have another bad dream," he said. "You must not sit here by yourself. You must promise to wake me. Do you promise?"

"Yes," Kili said. "I wake. I do this."

"Good," Bilbo said, and with that promise extracted, he retreated as soon as may be to his own bed, blew out the light, and sank into sleep almost as quickly as Fili had, only pausing to consider whether he should stay awake to see if Kili slept poorly, but deciding immediately that he rather thought the little dwarf would keep his promise.

But there were no more bad dreams that night.

When Bilbo answered the door shortly after lunch the next day, he was surprised to find not just Esmeralda on the doorstep, but another young hobbit, a little lad perhaps a few years older than Esmeralda herself. It took him a moment to recognise Paladin Took, Esmeralda's older brother, for he had not spoken to him in more than a year.

"Hello, Mr. Bilbo!" the two hobbitlings chorused. Bilbo smiled down at them.

"Well, my dears!" he said. "Paladin, you have become quite enormous in my absence!"

Paladin looked very pleased by this pronouncement. "Esme said she would show me her dwarf," he announced.

"He doesn't believe that Mr. Kili is the nicest dwarf in the whole world," Esmeralda put in, and stuck her tongue out at her brother.

"Oh, well," said Bilbo, considering for a moment. "Do you know, I think he truly may be the nicest dwarf in the whole world! Although I have not met them all, you understand, so I can't say for sure. But come in, come in! I am sure Kili will be very pleased to meet you." And he stood aside and allowed the two hobbitlings to rush past him, then followed quickly behind, for he had a great desire to see how Kili would react to a new little hobbit friend.

"Mr. Kili!" Esmeralda cried as soon as she saw him. "This is my brother, Pandin! His real name's Paladin, only no-one calls him that. He's nine!"

Kili, who had, of course, been expecting her to appear since the knock at the door, looked mildly taken aback to see her companion, and stumbled quickly to his feet, bowing and muttering. Paladin, for his part, had skidded to a stop, round-eyed as he stared upwards. Kili, though on the short side for a dwarf, was still taller than the tallest hobbit, after all, and he towered over the hobbitlings and seemed dark and mysterious, with his hair half-hanging over his face.

"Say hello," Esmeralda whispered loudly, elbowing Paladin in the ribs.

"Hello, Mr. Kili," Paladin managed. "You're very tall."

Kili sat back down with a thump. "I not tall," he said. "Only you are small. You are nine," he added. "It is small."

Paladin threw Esmeralda a confused frown. "He talks funny," he whispered, loud enough that Bilbo could hear it where he was standing by the door.

"He's only learning, silly," Esmeralda said. "Mr. Kili, will you play with us?"

Kili looked mildly alarmed by this, and Fili rose quickly to his feet and came to crouch beside the two hobbitlings.

"I will play with you, my dear Esmeralda," he said.

Esmeralda, though, made a discontented face and then turned pleading eyes on Kili. "But won't Mr. Kili play too?" she asked. "He wants to play, don't you, Mr. Kili?"

Kili frowned down at her, and at Fili, and seemed as though he was not going to answer. Bilbo was on the verge of telling Esmeralda to stop bothering him when he glanced up.

"I also play?" he said to Bilbo, then turned to Fili. "I can play?"

Esmeralda immediately turned to Fili as well, her expression almost tragic. "Can't he play, Mr. Fili?"

Bilbo found himself hiding a smile and feeling rather sorry for Begonia, who had to deal with such underhand tactics on a daily basis. Fili's face, however, remained quite serious.

"Only if you want to, my brother," he said, putting a hand on Kili's arm and holding his gaze. "You must be sure that it is what you want."

Esmeralda bounced and squeaked, and certainly she would have declared that of course Kili wanted to if Bilbo had not jumped to his feet and swept her into his arms, putting a finger to his lips and giving her a stern look. She subsided, and both of them turned their attention to Kili. He, for his part, was frowning at his brother thoughtfully. At last, though, he nodded.

"Yes, play," he said, and then turned back to look at Esmeralda. "What play?"

"Outside!" Esmeralda cried, and wriggled out of Bilbo's arms. She seized Kili's hand and tugged at it until he rose again to his feet. "Race you!" Both she and her brother immediately broke into a run, and Kili stood where they had left him, frowning in confusion.

"I should also go outside?" he asked Bilbo.

"We should all go outside," Bilbo decided. "After all, the weather is quite delightful."

And so that was what they did.

As it turned out, Kili's question concerning what game they should play was more complicated than it had first appeared. The first suggestion, by Paladin, was immediately refused by Fili, for it involved what he seemed to consider an unacceptable level of violence (and though, indeed, the violence in question was in fact nothing but tickling, nonetheless Bilbo privately very much agreed that it was not a suitable game for Kili to play). The next suggestion was a chasing game, but this continued for only a few minutes before Fili called a halt to proceedings, for Kili, although he had been designated the chaser rather than the chased, looked quite uncomfortable with his role, and, after Esmeralda shrieked when he made a half-hearted swipe at her, only stood in the centre of the lawn with a miserable expression on his face. After some short period of argument, Esmeralda invented a new game with rules that were complex enough that Bilbo - smoking his pipe and watching from the safety of the bench - did not quite understand them. Fili, however, seemed to grasp them once they had been explained to him twice, and after a moment's thought, he agreed.

This new game seemed to combine chasing with hiding. Of course, neither of these things would have suited Kili well, but his role seemed to be to stand in the middle of the lawn and act as a strange sort of benevolent, yet neutral force. If one of the hiders was able to reach him without being seen by seeker (in this case, little Paladin), they could beg of him a beneficence (represented by a daisy), which he would grant if they answered a riddle correctly. This token conveyed immunity on the bearer for half a minute, but if the seeker caught them afterwards, they had to give up all their flowers to him. The first to accumulate five such talismans was declared the winner.

After a number of false starts, in which Kili attempted to give all of his daises first to Esmeralda and then to Fili, the game began to pick up speed, and soon the garden resounded with shrieks and laughter. Esmeralda was the first winner (although Bilbo noted that Fili at one point spotted Paladin coming and yet continued to saunter when he should have sprinted), and thereafter they played a number of times, each time with a different configuration of hiders and seekers. Kili's role never changed, however, and he stood serenely in the middle of the lawn, holding his daisies and apparently having forgotten the riddling part of the game, for he presented a daisy to anyone who came near him, even if they were the seeker and therefore not permitted to take it. Despite this rather passive role, he seemed a great deal more content than he had been during the previous game, and although he still grew tense at moments of high drama, the delighted laughter of the children seemed to be enough to remind him that nothing was truly at stake. At last, though, the two hobbitlings tired of the game, and they took instead to throwing small stones into a pot they placed on the other side of the lawn. This being a much safer sort of game for Kili to play, Fili broke away from the group and made his way to the bench, where he settled beside Bilbo and took out his own pipe.

"A lively afternoon, master dwarf!" Bilbo observed.

"Quite," Fili replied. And those were all the words that passed between them for some time, for both were content to simply smoke and watch the various games. But presently, Fili asked Bilbo whether he could explain what a mathom was - for he had heard the word used by Begonia a few days before - and this led to Bilbo giving a lively disquisition on hobbits and their gift-giving customs (with a short side-trip into umbrellas and their various aspects, and how dwarves should think about adopting them, for surely even underground there might be found uses for these most useful of items), and from here grew a deep and detailed conversation about birthdays and their meaning in both dwarf and hobbit cultures, which ended only when Fili stopped speaking abruptly in mid-sentence, and Bilbo turned to see Esmeralda sitting on the ground looking as if she might cry, and Paladin standing over her with an expression by turns angry and guilty.

"He pushed her," Fili said in response to Bilbo's confused look. Bilbo immediately turned to reprimand young Paladin, but saw, to his surprise, that he was too late. For Kili, after a moment of stunned silence, had turned quickly and picked up the hobbitling, rising to his feet and carrying him bodily across the garden. Bilbo leaped to his feet, too, a little concerned as to what Kili might be planning. But the little dwarf simply deposited Paladin gently by the fence, and then turned and went back to Esmeralda. She, for her part, had apparently forgotten to cry, being too busy watching Kili in astonishment (as, indeed, were Bilbo and Fili). Kili now knelt in front of her and peered into her face, then lifted her to her feet with infinite tenderness and turned her carefully around, brushing down the back of her dress.

"You are not hurt," he decided at last.

"Pandin pushed me over," Esmeralda said. "It's naughty."

It was clear that Kili did not know what naughty meant, but he nodded gravely. "But you are not hurt," he repeated.

Esmeralda pouted. "It's naughty," she repeated, and glared at her brother. Paladin was still standing by the fence, looking equal parts confused and worried. Kili, too, turned to look at him, then patted Esmeralda gently on the shoulder, and rose once more to his feet, making his way back to her errant brother.

"Why you do this?" he asked, crouching in front of Paladin. "She is your brother. You should protect him."

Paladin looked even more confused at this odd pronouncement, but after a moment he apparently managed to disentangle it, for he grew rather sullen.

"She was being annoying," he said. "I got angry."

Kili shook his head, staring at Paladin intently. "It is not important, you are angry," he said. "She is your brother. You should not hurt brother, always protect. And she is small. You are more big, you should be always careful, not hurt." He frowned, peering into Paladin's face. "Is it you understand?"

Paladin shuffled his feet and looked a little shame-faced. "I understand," he said. "Only she's so stupid sometimes."

"She is not stupid," Kili said, sounding rather outraged. "Not stupid, only small. Small hobbits easy hurt, easy bad things happen. You must promise, always protect. You must promise. You are big little hobbit, must protect small little hobbits. It is - it is -" He frowned a moment, as if he could not quite remember the word he wanted. "It is responsibility," he said finally. "Brother responsibility."

Paladin straightened up a little at this, for being given the responsibility for someone's wellbeing is quite different from being told off for pushing them down. "Yes," he said, nodding quickly. "Yes, I promise. I'll make sure nothing bad happens to her."

Kili watched him for a long moment, as if to see if he was being sincere. Then he nodded and patted Paladin's shoulder. "It is good," he said. "I glad you promise. Good little hobbit."

Paladin's chest puffed out a little at this, and he strode across the lawn - insofar as a hobbitling of nine can stride, which is not very far at all - and stood before his sister.

"I'm sorry I pushed you, Esme," he said, rather grandly. "I'm going to protect you now."

Esmeralda looked rather amazed at this pronouncement, but a moment later she giggled and planted a kiss on Paladin's cheek.

"Mr. Kili already does that, don't you, Mr. Kili?" she said, and, seemingly on impulse, reached down to pluck a daisy, holding it out to Kili, who had followed Paladin over from the fence. Kili took the flower from her solemnly.

"Thank you Esmalda," he said.

Paladin's brow creased at this. "That's not her name," he said. "It's Esmeralda. Only everyone calls her Esme."

Kili stared down at him in confusion. "It is not name?" he asked, and then suddenly looked upset, glancing up at Bilbo and Fili. Bilbo, who had sat back down on the bench once he realised that Kili was not going to do anything unexpected to Paladin, and had been rather enjoying the little scene, began to feel concern deep in his stomach, not to mention a measure of guilt. Of course, he could have told Kili that he was pronouncing Esmeralda's name wrong many days ago, but he had not, and it had not occurred to him to wonder how Kili might feel if and when he discovered his mistake.

How Kili felt, it seemed, was quite distressed. He stared down at Esmeralda and shook his head with an unhappy frown. "I did say name wrong?" he asked. "Always did say wrong?"

Bilbo opened his mouth to try to explain, although he found he did not know at all what his explanation should be. But in the event, his explanation - whatever it would have been - was unnecessary. For Esmeralda - dear, sweet Esmeralda! - looked up at Kili with the sunniest of smiles.

"Of course not, silly!" she said, and then turned to her brother. "Esmalda is Mr. Kili's special name for me. No-one else can call me that but him."

Paladin looked mildly annoyed by this, but Kili merely looked confused.

"It is not name," he said. "It is not right."

"Of course it's right!" Esmeralda cried. "Because we are best friends!"

This only served to confuse Kili further, and he looked helplessly up at Bilbo. "I not understand," he said.

"It is quite true," Bilbo said. "Good friends often do have special names for each other - even names that no-one else uses. We call them nicknames."

Kili mouthed the word, but shook his head, still seeming quite discomfited by the whole idea. But Esmeralda tugged on his sleeve, looking suddenly worried.

"Mr. Kili, aren't we best friends?" she asked, a rather plaintive tone creeping into her voice.

Kili frowned down at her, and then glanced once more at Bilbo. Bilbo nodded and smiled, and Kili hesitated a moment and then nodded as well.

"Yes, we are best," he said.

Esmeralda gave a gleeful giggle at this, and stuck her tongue out at her brother. "It's because we're both reckless!" she declared. "That's why Mr. Kili likes me best."

"What?" Bilbo said in surprise. "Where did you hear that?"

"Mama said!" Esmeralda cried, looking very pleased with herself. "Mistress Lobelia said Mr. Kili was reckless for jumping in the water and he would teach me to be reckless if Mama let me play with him. And Mama said she was glad he was reckless enough to save me, and anyway, she didn't think anything could make me more reckless than I already am!" She looked up at Kili. "Mr. Kili, what does reckless mean?"

Kili looked like he did not know (which of course, he did not), but Bilbo was now feeling rather outraged on his behalf. "Well, Lobelia was quite wrong to say such a thing!" he cried. "Mr. Kili is the least reckless dwarf I have ever known! The only reason he jumped into the river was because he was so frightened for your wellbeing." He turned to Fili to gain support for his argument, but found, rather to his astonishment, that the young dwarf was simply staring at his brother with a rather foolish grin on his face. "Well, and what are you looking so pleased about?" Bilbo asked crossly.

Fili did not turn to look at him. "It's what our mother used to call him," he said. "Every time he did something foolish - which was very often indeed. Reckless, she would say." He managed to tear his eyes away from his brother to look at Bilbo, still smiling broadly. "I remember once, we climbed a tree," he said. "A great, sturdy tree, it was, and the lower branches certainly thick enough to hold a pair of silly dwarflings. But my brother, ah! my dear, foolish brother - he was never one to stop at half when he could reach for the whole. And so he climbed up higher and higher, until he reached a branch that was too thin for his weight, and it snapped beneath him. He fell, and hurt his arm, and he was quite the sight by the time we got home to mother. Oh, the scolding she gave us, Mr. Baggins! Dwarves are not meant for trees, she said. I cannot understand what I have done to raise such a reckless child!"

"I'm not reckless," said Kili suddenly. Fili's tale came to an abrupt halt, and both he and Bilbo turned to stare at Kili in astonishment, for he had spoken these words in a tone and in a voice that Bilbo had never heard from him before, fuller and louder, mildly outraged, and with no trace of the strange, sharp accent that usually coloured his every utterance.

"What did you say?" Bilbo asked. Kili, however, did not answer, nor did he look at Bilbo. He was staring at his brother, and when Bilbo glanced at Fili's face, he realised that he, at least, had heard that tone from Kili before. His mouth was a little open, and his eyes large and round in his head, and he leaned forward as though straining with all his being to hear what Kili would say next. And Kili raised a hand to his elbow and frowned.

"Ouch," he said softly, the vowels once more narrow and pointed in his mouth.

"That's right, my brother," Fili said, very quietly, as though he was afraid that any great noise might scare whatever thoughts were moving through Kili's shadowed mind and scatter them to the four winds, never again to be gathered. "You hurt your arm."

Kili peered down at his arm and flexed it experimentally. "Yes," he said. "Hurt arm." He looked back at Fili. "I climb tree. I did fall."

"Yes, yes!" Fili half-whispered, slipping from the bench now to kneel on the ground in front of Kili. "Yes, that is what happened. That is what happened."

"Yes, that is what happen," Kili repeated, and then closed his eyes a moment, frowning again. "Mother is there," he said finally, and then opened his eyes and stared intently at Fili. "You are also there," he said. "You -" he lifted a hand to touch Fili's chin. "You not have beard."

Fili made a noise that was more than half a sob and reached out to pull his brother into his arms, only stopping himself at the last minute, still a little unsure as to how much he might touch Kili without upsetting him. "Yes, that is right, o my brother," he said. "I had no beard. We were only dwarflings then, beardless youths both. I had no beard, and you have remembered me."

This last he said in a voice that seemed half-choked, and Bilbo, too, found himself swallowing around a rather large lump in his throat. Kili, though, looked a little apprehensive.

"Only this I remember," he said. "Only tree, fall. You are there. I not remember more."

"If it is the last thing you ever remember from before the orcs, I shall nonetheless account it a great gift," Fili said. "The greatest of gifts, my brother." And he reached up and placed his hand on the back of Kili's head, bringing their foreheads together and closing his eyes. After a moment's hesitation, Kili seemed to relax a little, and he lifted his hands and placed them one on each side of Fili's neck.

"I am glad remember," he said. "It is good, remember you."

Fili made no reply at this - perhaps he had lost his voice entirely - but he smiled without opening his eyes. And so they sat a moment, Fili with his eyes closed and Kili with his open, seeing his brother perhaps as if for the first time. But they were not permitted to remain thus for long, for Esmeralda, looking quite confused, sidled up to Kili and tugged on his sleeve.

"Mr. Kili," she said in a loud whisper, "are we going to climb a tree?"

Fili snorted at this - though it was a rather tearful snort - and let go of his brother, pulling back from their dwarvish embrace and opening his eyes. Kili, apparently a little startled, blinked at him for a moment and then let his hands drop, turning to frown at Esmeralda.

"Grown-ups don't climb trees, silly," Paladin said. "Only hobbitlings climb trees."

"Well, Mr. Kili likes doing lots of things that hobbitlings do," Esmeralda insisted. "He likes climbing trees, too! Don't you, Mr. Kili?"

Kili's frown deepened, and he shook his head. "I not know," he said.

"Well!" cried Fili, leaping to his feet and offering his hand to his brother. "We cannot have that! Come, my brother, we shall find out."

Kili rose rather gracelessly, glancing at Bilbo in confusion. "Where we go?" he asked.

And Fili grinned the brightest and broadest of grins. "To find a tree," he said.

The tree they found was a great oak that stood in a field to the south of Bag End. It had been there for as long as Bilbo could remember, and had already been old when he was still a child. The first part of the trunk was gnarled and knotted, and the lowest branches were some distance above the reach of a hobbit, or even a dwarf.

"Yes," Fili said, standing at the foot of the tree with Kili by his side. "This is perfect." And he turned to smile at Kili. "Well, will you climb with me, my brother?"

Kili, though, seemed not nearly so eager as Fili. He stared up into the tree with a doubtful expression, and seemed rather daunted by the prospect. Fili watched him, waiting for an answer, and when none came his face fell.

"You do not have to, of course," he said. "If you would prefer it - well, we can go back home."

But Kili squared his shoulders, then, and turned to his brother with a steady look. "I did climb before," he said. "I remembered it. I did climb tree before."

"Yes, my brother," Fili said. "When we were dwarflings you climbed every tree in the Blue Mountains."

Kili nodded and turned back to look upwards again. Now, though, he wore a determined expression. "Yes," he said. "Climb tree."

Fili broke into a broad smile, and bent at the waist, seemingly to give Kili a leg-up. But Kili, who apparently had not been expecting this, did not wait, but only began to swarm up the tree, clinging to the trunk like a spider. Bilbo was reminded suddenly of him scrambling up the cliff to escape them on the second day after they had found him in the wildlands, and although he had been a great deal thinner then, yet it seemed he had lost little of the skill. Fili stood back, seeming a little startled by the speed of Kili's ascent. But a moment later his grin returned, and he hurled himself up the trunk after Kili, with a great deal less grace and a great deal more dwarvishness about him.

"Can I climb the tree, Mr. Bilbo?" Esmeralda piped up from where she stood by Bilbo's side.

"Absolutely not!" Bilbo said, tightening his grip on her hand, and Paladin's too, for good measure. "Your mother would have my hide!"

Kili, meanwhile, had reached the lowermost branch - a broad limb that was as thick around as many a tree trunk, and that extended horizontally outwards for a short distance before turning up towards the canopy, as if it was designed as a seat for any who could manage to defeat the difficulties of the branchless lower trunk. He sat astride this branch and waited for Fili to catch him up, which took only a few moments. Now Fili, too, sat on the branch, facing his brother, and leaned forward to say something to him. Bilbo could hear nothing of the conversation - both due to the distance and because Fili spoke in a low voice - and he waited a little before finally growing impatient.

"Well, are you coming down?" he called. It made him a little nervous to see the two dwarves so high up, though they were perched solidly enough.

Fili glanced down at him and then leaned forward and asked Kili something. Kili turned and looked down at Bilbo as well, then turned back to his brother and made his answer, though what it was, Bilbo could not hear. Whatever it was, though, it caused Fili to smile, and he turned and raised his voice, calling back to Bilbo.

"Not yet, Mr. Baggins," he cried. "There is a great deal more tree for us to climb as yet! But you do not have to wait for us - I think we may be some time."

And Bilbo heard the words that Fili did not say, and smiled at the two little hobbitlings who stood on either side of him.

"Well, it seems grown-ups do climb trees, after all," he said. "Or at least, they do if they are dwarves."

"Dwarves are pe-cu-liar," Paladin said. "That's what my dad says."

"Your father is quite correct," Bilbo said. "But there is nothing wrong with a little peculiarity, after all. Now come along, it is time for afternoon tea!"

And he led his little cousins away, and glanced back only once, to see that his two dwarvish friends had already disappeared up into the green canopy.

Afternoon tea came and went, and Bilbo sent his cousins home to their mother, and still the dwarves did not reappear. After a brief period of feeling somewhat bored and lonely, Bilbo began to rediscover the many pleasures of having one's hobbit hole all to oneself. He pottered around the place, tidying up and dusting, and when everything was as spick and span as he could make it, he took his book and settled in his armchair to read, revelling in the peace and quiet. Indeed, he found himself so content that he wondered for a moment or two if it might not be more sensible for him to put off his planned visit to the Lonely Mountain, and not set off with his friends in the spring at all, but instead spend a year in Hobbiton and go to visit them thereafter. He thought about how it might be, a whole year snug and cosy in his own home, with no-one to bother him and no-one to need him for anything other than as an occasional dinner guest. And indeed, the very thought was enough to make him wonder if he had been telling the truth when he had told Kili he was not lonely before he opened his door to a great pack of dwarves; for the thought of not seeing his friends' faces, of not hearing their voices for an entire year and more made him feel quite sad and empty.

Well, perhaps he had been lonely before, and perhaps he had not, but whatever the truth of it was, he was certainly very much changed. And so although he much enjoyed his afternoon at home alone, nonetheless it was with a cheerful heart that he heard the sound of dwarvish footsteps outside the window as the sky began to darken.

Fili was laughing about something as he stepped in through the front door, and although Bilbo had risen to go and meet his guests in the hallway, he paused in his steps and simply stood a moment, for the laughter was so hearty, so filled with good cheer, the he found himself wishing only to listen, and to smile to hear such a sound in his hobbit hole after the many days of sorrow that had preceded it. But a moment later, the dwarves stepped into the living room, and the spell was broken.

"Ah, no you don't, master dwarf!" Bilbo cried, waving a hand at Fili. "We have almost run out of firewood. There are some logs in the cellar, and an axe, too."

Fili paused and bowed. "I shall relish the chance to wield it," he said, with something of a smirk, and turned to go.

"Yes, well, don't wield it too violently!" Bilbo called after him. "It is only meant for hobbits, after all!"

But Fili had already gone, and Bilbo spent a moment worrying about whether his axe would survive its encounter with dwarvish enthusiasm, and then put it from his mind and turned to Kili.

"And you, my lad," he said, "you must wash those muddy feet before you dirty my entire hobbit hole!" And he flapped his hands, for in fact Kili's feet were quite filthy, and the lower parts of his trousers, too. Kili obediently went to the kitchen and took the basin down from its stand, setting it on the floor and settling himself to wash himself. Bilbo bustled around setting water to boil for tea, and then he sat down at the table, feeling rather cosy.

"You were gone for a long time," he said. "You must have been enjoying yourself! I suppose you did not spend the entire afternoon up in the tree."

"No," Kili said. "We go-" he paused, clutching the soap in one hand and staring at nothing, clearly trying to remember a word. "Explore," he said, finally. "We go explore."

"Ah!" Bilbo said. "How delightful! And what did you see in your explorations?"

Kili thought about this for a moment. "Trees," he decided. "And birds."

"Well, that sounds marvellous," said Bilbo.

Kili nodded, although Bilbo rather thought he did not know what marvellous meant. "It is good, talk Fili," he said. "I understand, talk alone, it is different."

"It is indeed," Bilbo said. "And I think you have made your brother very happy by letting him talk to you alone."

"He laugh," Kili said. "Laugh great deal." He nodded. "It is good."

"It is very good," Bilbo said with a smile, and then hesitated. "I rather think," he started. "I rather think he might enjoy hearing you laugh, some day."

Kili frowned, and then looked suddenly confused and a little upset, ducking his head a little and letting his hair fall across his face. Bilbo patted him hastily. "Well, never mind that," he said. "What else did you do while you were out?"

Kili peered at him from under his hair, and now it was his turn to look hesitant. "Fili teach - taught prayer," he said. "New prayer."

"Oh yes?" Bilbo asked. "What kind of prayer? A braiding prayer?"

Kili nodded and looked away. "It is for friend," he said, sounding a little muffled. "Mahal protect friend." He glanced quickly at Bilbo, and then away again. "Fili taught."

"Hm," Bilbo said, for it was very obvious to him what Kili wanted, although it was also clear that he did not want to ask for it. "Well, I wonder - would you like to braid my hair, my boy?"

Kili sat up eagerly. "I can do this?"

"Only a little braid, mind!" Bilbo said. "It is not normal for hobbits." And he drew his chair closer and turned his head, hoping that Mahal would not take it amiss that one of his children was braiding the hair of a hobbit, dwarf-friend or no. But he could not refuse Kili - not when he knew how much the poor little dwarf worried about his wellbeing, and that of his brother. If it would set his heart at ease for Bilbo to have a braid in his hair, well, it was a small price to pay, be it never so strange for a hobbit to wear something so dwarvish.

Kili raised his hands to Bilbo's head and took hold of a lock of his hair, weaving it together with the gentlest of touches and murmuring in Khuzdul, his voice so soft that Bilbo could hardly make out any of the words. He must have been practising his technique, because he only unwove the braid twice before weaving it all the way to the end and tying it off, then sitting back, apparently satisfied. Bilbo raised a hand to touch this strange little hair ornament and felt his neck prickle a little, as if someone standing behind him had breathed on it. But of course, there was no-one there.

"Mahal protect," Kili said, and then, "thank you hobbit, let me braid hair."

Bilbo was so busy fingering the braid that he almost did not notice what it was that Kili had said. But when he did, he sat up straight and stared, his eyes wide.

"What did you call me?" he asked.

Kili seemed to realise then, as well, and he dropped his head suddenly, half-curling in on himself and then, seemingly with a great effort of will, pausing in his withdrawal and uncurling, though not quite all the way, and not meeting Bilbo's eyes.

"Esmalda say I can call special name," he said, almost in a whisper. "She say friend, special name."

"Well, and she is quite right, of course!" Bilbo cried. "I have said the same a number of times. I have said so and said so!"

But this vehemence seemed only to cause Kili to duck a little further, and Bilbo - though feeling rather wounded that Kili would take the word of a little hobbitling of six where he would not take Bilbo's own - decided that he must put this aside, and only feel happy that Kili seemed at last to have understood. "Well," he said, keeping his voice soft, "she is right. Of course you may call me by a nickname!"

"You are not angry?" Kili asked, briefly meeting Bilbo's eye.

"Not in the slightest," Bilbo said. "In fact, I am very glad. I had begun to think you would never address me by any kind of name again! And if this is the name that seems right to you, well, it certainly seems right to me. After all, a hobbit is what I am!"

Kili looked up cautiously, and seemed to decide that Bilbo was telling the truth, that he was not at all angry. He lifted his head, then, although he did not quite come all the way out from behind his hair.

"It is right," he said. "Yes, it feel right."

"Well, then!" Bilbo cried. "Right it is, and right it will be! And no-one else shall call me that but you, because you are my very good friend."

At this moment, the water on the stove began to boil over, and Bilbo leapt to his feet hastily, and took it from the heat. He made tea for himself and Fili, and blackberry tea for Kili, and then carried the cups through to the living room, gesturing for Kili to follow behind. Once he was settled, Bilbo set his fruit tea beside him and patted him on the shoulder.

"There you are, my lad," he said.

"Thank you hobbit," said Kili.

And Bilbo smiled.

It was only a few minutes later that Bilbo heard the sound of Fili coming up the hallway. There was a pause in his steps as he passed by the front door, however, and a muffled exclamation, followed by the heavy clatter of a piece of wood falling to the floor. Bilbo jumped to his feet and ran to help, finding Fili in the hallway, his arms full of split logs, glaring at the large box that stood by the door, mostly hidden under jars of honey.

"What on earth is this box, Mr. Baggins?" he asked. "This is the third time I have barked my shin on it! Can it not be moved? And why is there so much honey in the hallway?"

"Oh!" Bilbo cried, for of course he had entirely forgotten the box in all the trouble that had followed its arrival. "Oh, master dwarf! I forgot! Oh, I am so dreadfully sorry!"

Fili looked rather nonplussed at this. "Well, it is only a bruise, to be sure," he said. "There is no need to be so upset."

"No, you don't understand," Bilbo said. "It is your box! A hobbit from the market in Bywater brought it while you were ill and said you had ordered it!"

"The market?" Fili asked, and then his face suddenly softened into a delighted smile. "Oh," he said, turning to stare at the box. "I forgot all about that."

"But that is not all, master dwarf," Bilbo said, beginning now to feel quite wretchedly guilty. "He brought with him a letter for you. From your uncle, if I am not very much mistaken."

"A letter?" Fili said. "But - how long ago -?"

"Oh, days!" Bilbo cried. "But you will want to read it, of course." And here he patted his pockets, and then patted them again. "But where did I put it?"

Fili's smile faded at this, and Bilbo shook his head and began to wring his hands. "I am a foolish hobbit!" he cried, and then, remembering suddenly that he had been wearing a different waistcoat on the day the letter had come, he turned and scurried to his bedroom in the hope of finding it. It took him a few minutes of feverish searching, though, to remember that that was the day that he and Kili had begun sleeping in the room at the end of the little hallway. Cursing himself for his forgetfulness, he hastened back past the front door - where Fili still stood, his arms full of firewood, watching in some confusion - and made his way to the dark little guest room. It was the first time he had entered it since the day before, and he hoped - once he had tidied it up, of course - that he would not have to enter it again for a long while. But there, half-hidden under the bed, was the very waistcoat he had been wearing on the day the letter had come.

"Aha!" Bilbo cried, and seized on it with great eagerness. And yes! Here was something in the pocket that rustled and was a little stiff, and when Bilbo drew it out it was the very letter that he had feared lost. Bilbo almost kissed it in his relief - he had certainly never been so glad to see Thorin's handwriting!

"I have found it!" he cried, and hurried back to the hallway, to find that Fili had gone into the living room to put down the firewood. "I have found it," he repeated, coming rather breathlessly to a stop and waving the letter.

"I see," Fili said, and took the letter from Bilbo's hands. If he was mildly put out by Bilbo's forgetfulness, it did not last long, for as soon as he read the address he began to smile. "Yes, it certainly is from our uncle," he said, and turned it over. "But it has been opened?"

"Ah," Bilbo said. "I wanted to read it to Kili when he was - when he was feeling unwell. But in fact, I need not have bothered, for it is written in neither Common nor Khuzdul, and I could not read a word! Really, master dwarf, I do not understand why any race should need three languages to communicate in."

"We do not have three languages," Fili said, and drew the letter from its envelope, frowning at it. "Ah! No, Mr. Baggins, this is not another language; it is only a cipher."

"A cipher?" Bilbo asked. "What do you mean?"

"It is simple enough," Fili said. "Each letter is moved three places forward in the alphabet. Thus, if any of our messages should fall into the hands of our enemies, they will not be able to read them."

"I rather think that writing them in a secret language and alphabet might be protection enough, without using a code as well," Bilbo said, rather crossly - and well he might be cross, for Thorin's excessive secrecy had prevented him being able to read the letters to Kili when it might have done a great deal of good.

Fili, though, did not know this, and he merely raised his eyebrows. "It is the way of my people, Mr. Baggins," he said mildly.

"Oh, of course, of course," Bilbo said, waving a hand. "Dwarves. Dwarves! But can you read it, then?"

"Of course I can!" Fili said, looking slightly offended. And with that, he turned to Kili, who had been watching this exchange with a look of great concentration, as if determined to understand everything that was occurring. "Do you see, Kili?" he said. "Uncle has written us a letter!"

He showed Kili the paper, and Kili stared at it for a moment or two, then looked up at Fili.

"What it is?" he asked. "Letter?"

Bilbo felt rather foolish at this, for of course he had told Kili about Thorin's letter before, down in the dark little cellar, but it had not occurred to him - although of course it should have done - that Kili would not know what a letter was. "It is a message," he said. "Your uncle has written down the things he wishes to say to you and sent the writing, because he cannot come here to say them with his voice."

Kili seemed to understand this, and he looked back at the letter and frowned, brushing his fingertips over the rows of dwarvish runes. "I not can read," he said finally.

"Would you like me to read it to you, my brother?" Fili asked. Kili nodded hesitantly, and Fili smiled and sat down in the armchair beside him. "Then I shall, of course," he said, and, lifting the letter so that the lamplight fell more clearly upon it, he began to read.

"'Dear Fili'," he read, speaking a little hesitantly, for of course he had not only to convert the letters from the cipher, but also to translate from Khuzdul into Common, "'I assume that your brother has not learned to read since you left the Mountain, and so I address this to you alone, but you will read it out to him, of course.'" Here he paused and made an annoyed face. "Well, you do not have to tell me to do that, uncle," he muttered, then shook his head and continued. "'Two weeks only have passed since your departure, but your mother insisted I should write, although I have very little news to tell. Work on unblocking the entrances to the mines continues apace, and ever faster now that another caravan has arrived from the Blue Mountains. Soon there will be almost as many dwarves in the Mountain as in the days of my youth. I have placed Bofur and Bifur in charge of the mining operations, and the gold that is produced. They are proving to be excellent stewards. Your cousin Dain is now gone home, and taken many of our Iron Hills kin with him. We hear tell that Bard of Laketown sets out to re-enter Dale, and hope that soon that city may be thriving just as ours is. It seems the old days are come again to our homeland, and I am glad to see it.

'Your mother is well. I hope your journey has been acceptable, and that you are both in good health. And the hobbit, of course.

'Thorin, son of Thrain.'"

"Well," Bilbo said when Fili set the letter down. "Is that all? Surely that is not all?"

"Not all," Fili said. "There is also a letter here from our mother."

"But nothing else from Thorin?" Bilbo asked. "Surely he must have had something else to say to you?"

"No, there is nothing else from him," Fili said, but he did not seem in the least put out by this short, cold letter that Thorin had - for some reason - gone to the trouble to have conveyed over the many leagues between the Lonely Mountain and the Shire. "Why would there be anything else?"

"Because - because-" Bilbo spluttered. "Because he is your uncle! He does not even say that he loves you!"

Fili looked mildly surprised by this objection. "It is as you say, Mr. Baggins," he said. "He is our uncle."

And indeed, Bilbo thought, it was true. For all that his feelings were passionate to the point of violence, yet Thorin was Thorin, and no amount of indignation from Bilbo could make him change his ways - and certainly not at a distance of many leagues! But all the same, he wished he could somehow be transported to Erebor and stamp his feet and shout until the dwarf king rewrote his letter from pure shame.

"Well, I hope your mother's letter is a little less terse," was all he said, for it did no good to either Fili or Kili to be visibly angry with their uncle.

At this, Fili smiled, and turned once more to his brother. "Our mother has written to us, as well," he said. "I shall read it to you." And he lifted the second letter, and began to read.

"'My dearest sons,

'I had thought myself strong - a dwarvish woman, of Durin's line, no less! I had thought I had the will to withstand dragons, and armies, and that I would be able to wait for at least two months before I wrote to you. For I know well that it is strange indeed for you - for both of you, but for you most of all, dear Kili - to be in this world as you are now, and that you need time, and not to have your mother at your heels at every moment. And yet, when your uncle asked me if I had not written to you yet, and then demanded to know why not, I am ashamed to say that my will crumbled almost immediately. And so here I come to be writing, against all my good intentions, for he tells me that a party leaves today for Laketown, and thence towards the Misty Mountains, and he would not have me miss this chance.

'Spring comes to the Mountain. The snows are melting from the upper slopes - though I think the peak will be white-clad all through the summer, for I remember it so from my childhood - and the grass begins to spring green even in the desolation of the dragon, as if it somehow could sense that he is dead and gone and will trouble us no more. And with the grass, it seems the heart of our people is reawoken. The halls of the Mountain are filled with laughter and song and the blows of hammer on anvil. All glory in Erebor retaken, and in the rising of the sun over our world remade.

'And yet I cannot take pleasure in it. I long for sunset each day from the moment I rise, and I long to see the summer pass, and the grass die, and snow once more close us in. For when winter comes, we will be close to a new spring, and when spring comes, you will set out once more from the little green land of hobbits and return to me, my dear sons. These many years I have lived asunder from Kili, and many months from Fili, and yet it seems I do not grow practised in this art, but only ache more each day. And yet, those long, cold months of your great quest to regain our home, I feared I should lose my only son, and instead I regained the one that I had lost. And so I am not afraid, for I know that you are together, and that your Mr. Baggins is along to provide some good sense (which both of you lack entirely, as you well know), and I could wish for nothing more, except that I might be with you.

'But what of news? Your uncle has quarrelled with Dain, who thinks he is too austere, and does not understand why he allows two dwarves who are not even kin to have such great positions in his retinue, and to be in charge of all the gold and jewels from the mines, and to spirit them away without his ever even seeing them. He and his people from the Iron Hills do not understand why we do not hang ourselves with precious items as they do, when we have so many riches in our mountain. But there: better to be thought austere than to be known to be mad. Your uncle is a great dwarf, to resist thus the shadow that hangs over our line.

'All of your friends from the company wish you well, and wish you back here sooner rather than later. I walk often with Ori, and demand he tells me everything of your time travelling. He has been kind enough to draw me two pictures, and I - though with great reluctance - enclose one of them here, for he has promised me another quite the same, and he thought that you would like to see it.'" Here Fili paused and frowned, turning the letter over and then peering into the envelope. "But where is the picture?" he asked.

"Oh!" Bilbo said, and opened his mouth to tell Kili to show his brother his new picture. But Kili had clearly already understood that he should do this, for he was digging through the pile of pictures on the little table at his elbow, and in a few moments he held out the new one. Fili took it with a look of curiosity, but when he saw the subject, he settled back in his chair with a wondering smile.

"Oh, Ori," he murmured. "It is very splendid."

"Thank you Ori," Kili said softly, and Fili smiled at him.

"Thank you, Ori, indeed," he said. "But I have only a few lines left." And he picked up the letter again.

"'I hope your Mr. Baggins is very well, and that you are not driving him to distraction with your antics, as I know you will before the winter is out. He will be glad to see the back of you, I am sure! And I will be glad to take you from his hands, just as soon as may be.

'With fondest love,

Your mother.'

"But that is not all," Fili continued. "She writes also a note just for you, my brother." And he smiled at Kili, and continued to read.

"'Darling Kili,

'It is no use for me to try to put into words the things I wish that you would know - there are no words for these things, and perhaps you would not understand them anyway. It must all seem very strange to you, but you must know that those many years that you were gone from my life felt even stranger to me. You are far away, and yet to know that you still live is to feel as though some missing limb had been restored to me. I cannot help but grudge every hour that I do not see you, for we still have so many things to learn about each other. And yet, I hope that you find the peace that you seek in your friend's safe green home beyond the Misty Mountains, and I beg that you stay there as long as you need to be restored in heart and in mind. It is enough for me to know that you draw breath, and that you are with your brother, and that one day I shall look upon your beloved face once again.

'Your mother.'"

Silence fell after this recitation, and Bilbo found himself fumbling for his pocket handkerchief.

"Well," he said, blowing his nose loudly, "at least one member of your family knows how to write a letter!"

Fili smirked a little at this, and then turned to Kili.

"What do you say, my brother?" he asked. "It is good to hear from them, is it not? From our uncle and our mother?"

Kili stared at him, and then at the letter that he still held in his hand. "Mother," he said softly.

"Yes," Fili replied, and he held out the letter. "Here are the words she wrote only for you," he said, pointing.

Kili took the letter and ran his fingertips over the paragraph of runes. He turned suddenly and rummaged amongst his pictures until he found one of the ones Ori had drawn in Laketown, of Dis with a young Fili and Kili. He touched his index finger to her face in the picture, and then ran it once more over the words.

"Mother," he whispered again.

The room fell silent at this, Fili settling back in his chair with a solemn expression, and Kili seemingly deep in thought. But Bilbo felt rather overwhelmed, and like he might need to blow his noise again, and he coughed awkwardly and tried to find some way to lighten the atmosphere.

"But what about the box, master dwarf?" he asked.

"The box?" Fili replied, and then his face lit up with a smile. "Oh!" he cried, and jumped to his feet. "Stay there," he said to Kili - as if there was any chance at all that he might suddenly decide to go somewhere else - and he hastened from the room. Kili looked up from his picture in some confusion.

"Where he go?" he asked.

"Oh, there is something he needs to do," Bilbo said. He was almost certain that whatever was in the box was a present for Kili, but there was no need to ruin the surprise, after all. And a surprise it would be, indeed: although Bilbo had entirely forgotten the box for several days, now that he had been reminded of it he found himself sitting on the edge of his seat and considering - and rejecting - any number of things that might be found inside. Oh, how he wished to know!

In the hallway there came the sound of the wooden lid of the box clattering to the ground, and Bilbo sat up in expectation. But a moment later, the door to the dwarves' room opened and closed. "Hm," said Bilbo to Kili. "He must have become distracted!" And he managed (though with difficulty) to restrain himself from jumping up and going to see what was taking so long.

Long it was not, in fact - no more than a minute or two before the sound of the door opening came again, and then Fili appeared in the living room, carrying a cloth-wrapped bundle in one hand and a stick in the other. He looked like he was fit to burst with anticipation, and he approached the fireplace and stood before Kili's chair.

"I have something for you, my brother," he said. He unwrapped the cloth, and Bilbo strained forward to see what was inside.

It was a violin. A beautiful instrument, lacquered to a bright, chestnut shine, and not hobbit-sized at all, but just the right size for a dwarf. Oh, of course it was a violin! For the stick that Fili carried in his other hand was the bow, and if Bilbo had not been so very distracted by what the bundle might be, he would have seen so at once.

"Oh!" he cried. "Oh, master dwarf. How lovely!"

Fili threw him a quick smile. Kili, however, looked largely confused.

"What it is?" he asked, and then, his eye lighting on the strings, "It is harp?" This last was said in a hopeful tone, and Fili gave him a fond look.

"Oh, no," he said, "it is not a harp. It is much better than a harp. It is a fiddle!"

"Fill?" Kili asked.

"Fiddle, brother," Fili repeated, and Kili repeated the word, more accurately this time, and then shook his head.

"I not know what is fiddle," he said. He looked rather disappointed, in fact, that it was not a harp.

"I will show you what it is," Fili said, and swung the fiddle up to his shoulder, flexing his fingers. "I have not played since-" He paused and then shook his head. "Well, for many years. I hope I am not too rusty!"

And with that, he set the bow to the strings, and began to play. He played a scale only, starting on the lowermost string and running all the way to the highest, slow and deliberate. But the sound of the fiddle was strong and true, vibrant and clear, and Bilbo smiled to hear it. On Kili, though, the effect of the music was a great deal more dramatic. His eyes widened with the first note, and grew only wider and rounder as the scale continued, his mouth falling open until he wore an expression of deep astonishment - indeed, almost incredulity. And when Fili played the last note of the scale and paused, allowing the vibrations to die away, he made a quiet noise and half-lifted his hand, as though he wished to grasp the very sound and stop it from fading.

Fili turned to his brother with the broadest of smiles, both delighted and rather smug. "Do you like it, then?" he asked.

But Kili seemed unable to reply - indeed, he seemed unable to speak at all - and Fili's smile became impossibly wider. "Well, then," he said, "I shall play you something else." And he lifted the bow again, and played a merry jig that, after a few minutes, slipped imperceptibly into a mournful, dwarvish air, rising and falling and filling the hobbit hole with its deep, rich tones. Bilbo found himself watching Kili, no less delighted by the little dwarf's reaction than was Fili. He sat still as a stone, but leaning forward, as if straining to hear every vibration of every note, and amazement and yearning were written across his face so plainly that he might have been shouting them from every hill in the Shire. As the slow, melancholy tune drew to a close, a tear tracked down Kili's cheek, and Bilbo began to think he might need his handkerchief again.

When, at last, the fiddle fell silent, Kili made no sound, nor moved in the slightest, his eyes still fixed on the instrument, as if not quite able to comprehend how it could exist. Fili swung it down and held it out to him.

"It is yours, my brother," he said. "I bought it for you."

Kili made no move to take it, but only stared. Fili took a step closer and shook the fiddle slightly.

"I give it to you," he said. "I give it to you, Kili."

But still, Kili did not move, only staring and staring at the fiddle, until at last Fili laid it carefully down on the table by his elbow, and set the bow beside it.

"Well," he said, beginning now to look a trifle uneasy, "whenever you wish to take it."

Kili turned to look at the fiddle, where it lay gleaming in the firelight. He reached out a shaking hand and touched it, just the lightest of touches, his fingertips brushing along the curve of the body.

"Yes, that's right," Fili said. "It is yours."

Kili looked up at him and opened his mouth, but he still seemed unable to speak. After a moment, of struggling, he shook his head violently, and then stumbled to his feet and enveloped his brother in a clumsy embrace. This embrace was so brief that Fili had not time to react, but only stood, stunned and gaping, as Kili stepped back from him. Indeed, so great was his shock that Kili quickly began to look concerned, and he glanced at Bilbo (who was rather stunned himself, though at least still capable of speech).

"I can this?" he whispered. "Hobbit say - if give, I can this." He peered anxiously at Fili. "It is-" he started. But he never had the chance to say the word right, for Fili lurched abruptly forwards and flung his arms around him with such enthusiasm - indeed, it seemed on the verge of desperation - that Kili let out a startled grunt. He recovered quickly from his surprise, however, and returned the embrace, though perhaps with a little less violence. And Fili, after a moment or two of burying his face in his brother's neck, came to himself enough to answer the question.

"Yes, o my brother," he said, rather muffled by Kili's hair. "It is right. It is exactly right."

And so they stood for a long moment, but at last Fili stepped back - though it seemed to require quite an effort of will - and let his arms drop, passing his hand quickly over his eyes.

"Well, then," he said. "I will teach you how to play."

Fili, as it turned out, had in fact bought two violins - one for himself and one for Kili - but when he brought the second out it was clear that he had chosen carefully which to keep and which to give away. For his fiddle, though pretty enough, was rather less well-made than Kili's, and a little duller, and although the sound it made was pleasant enough, yet it had not the deep vibrancy that Kili's had. But he played it well, and quickly was able to show Kili how to hold the instrument and the bow, and how to apply the one to the other. At first, Kili could make no sound flow at all, for he held the bow so gently, and pressed it against the string with such excessive care and lightness of touch, that it might as well have been passing through the air above it. But, once some encouragement had been given, Kili seemed to understand that his present would not break if treated with a little more force, and at last he drew a long, wavering note from the highest string, and then almost dropped the fiddle in his amazement.

But, these first difficulties aside, Kili took to fiddle-playing with remarkable aptitude. In fact, Bilbo was reminded of nothing so much as when he first took up the bow and arrow in the broken lands to the north of Erebor, for it seemed his body could remember many things that his mind could not, and after only a little time he was able to repeat phrases that Fili played almost note-perfect - though sometimes not quite in tune. It was quite marvellous to hear them playing, and Bilbo sat and listened and enjoyed himself immensely, but after some little time his stomach began to remind him that it was several hours since afternoon tea, and now quite dark outside, and yet he had not even begun to prepare dinner. And so he got quietly to his feet and slipped away to the kitchen, and began to peel carrots and smile at the sound of the music floating through from the living room.

After a little while, though, the music stopped, and a few moments later, Fili appeared in the kitchen.

"Can I help with anything, Mr. Baggins?" he asked.

"Oh, not at all!" Bilbo said warmly. "I have just been enjoying your playing. What a splendid present for your brother!"

Fili glanced back towards the living room with a smile. "We used to play together often," he said. "I hope-" He shook his head. "But I must pay you for the fiddles," he said. "How much did they cost?"

"Oh, as to that," Bilbo said, "in fact I paid nothing for them at all! By the time they reached my door, they had already been paid for in full by the hobbits they passed along the way."

"Indeed?" Fili asked, looking rather confused. "But why should they do such a thing?"

"Because of your brother, and how he saved little Esmeralda," Bilbo said. "We hobbits are foolish, frightened creatures sometimes, but we understand an act of great kindness when we see one."

Fili stared at him a moment, and then smiled a soft smile. "I think you are the finest creatures on this earth, Mr. Baggins," he murmured. And this was such a foolish statement, and yet so flattering, that Bilbo pretended he had not heard it, and busied himself with his chopping board.

"But he called you hobbit," Fili said after a moment, as if continuing a conversation they had not been having.

"Oh, that," Bilbo said. "Yes, he has decided at last that it suits me. And I suppose it does! I do wish he had not been quite so long about it, but I am glad it is settled at last."

"Hm," said Fili. "When first he stopped, I thought it was a good thing, but now-" He paused, frowning. "It does suit you," he decided. "Coming from him, anyway." He reached out to take one the mushrooms that lay in a pile beside Bilbo waiting to be chopped, but Bilbo made an indignant noise and slapped his hand away.

"What terrible manners!" he cried.

Fili made a valiant attempt to appear properly chastened, but a wicked grin kept twitching at the corners of his mouth. Bilbo heaved a put-upon sigh.

"Well, you may have one," he said, holding out a mushroom. "But no more, or you will spoil your dinner!"

Fili took the mushroom with a bow. "Thank you, hobbit," he said.

"Oh, now, none of that!" Bilbo said, brandishing his knife, and Fili smirked and popped the mushroom in his mouth. But after a moment's companionable silence, Bilbo spoke again, although he kept his eyes now on his chopping and did not look up at Fili.

"But I do rather think," he said. "I do rather think that Mr. Baggins is a little formal, after everything." And here he paused in his chopping and looked up to see that Fili was regarding him, his expression now entirely serious. "Don't you think?" he added, feeling rather foolish.

Fili watched him in silence for a moment before speaking. "Bilbo, then?" he said.

Bilbo considered this briefly, then stepped back from his chopping board and gave a silly little bow. "At your service," he said with a smile.

But Fili seemed not at all in the mood to smile all of a sudden, and he bowed in return. But where Bilbo's bow had been little more than a duck of his head, Fili's was deep enough almost to scrape the floor.

"No, my dear friend," he said. "It is I who am at your service. I am ever at your service."

Bilbo found himself feeling quite touched, and also rather awkward. "Well," he said, "the best way you can serve me right now is to stop stealing my mushrooms and go and play some more music with your brother. It is a delight to hear!" And he flapped his hands in a shooing motion until Fili smiled and turned for the door. But just before he slipped through it, he glanced over his shoulder.

"Thank you, Bilbo," he said, and slipped away.

"Hm," Bilbo said to himself, staring after him and listening to the sound of the fiddles being tuned again. "Yes, I think Bilbo will do."

And he finished his chopping and set his various pots and pans on the stove, and then crept to the doorway and leaned against it. In the living room, his two dwarvish friends were now playing slowly through a rather beautiful tune. Fili's playing was bold and vibrant, while Kili played a half-note behind, wavering and soft, and yet still - with his brother's guidance - able to play more than half the notes correctly. The overall effect was an odd one indeed - certainly not a polished performance, and yet strangely charming. And after all, they had a great deal of time ahead of them in which to practice.

"Yes," murmured Bilbo to himself, wiping his hands on his apron and smiling as the music filled his hobbit hole. "Yes, I think that will do nicely."