A very short something for Lina Zemtseva. She will know why ;)

Rain had been pouring down for days, the sky not brightening up except for the times when thunder and lightning rolled across the mountains and the nights became bright as day and the Little Lune at the foot of the massive stone castle, carved in the rock of the Blue Mountains, turned into a proper river, gushing out into the valley.

Down in the great halls, over a dozen of dwarves were clattering about, setting up the banquet that had been planned for months. Everyone polished up, beards were trimmed, manes combed, the best clothes were patched and even the boots cleaned until they mirrored every single golden statute and every black marble pillar. Banners were wafting in the cool breeze, shining in blue and silver, the colours of Durins house and everyone was filled with happiness and laughter.

Everyone, except one.

A young dwarf prince had sought refuge on one of the few balconies looking out on the dark valley below, sheltered by a marble alcove that had been decorated in blue and white flowers. They had his clothes laid out for him, had combed his hair and graced it with golden clasps that hung heavy on his head, each with a single, shining ruby in the centre. He wore a large broche by his collar, showing the family emblem and everyone had been eager to advise him to show his best behaviour since the dwarves of the Iron Hills were rare guests in these lands and even though it was Thorins cousin visiting with an entire flock of maidens, butlers and advisers, any incident would be regarded as a catastrophe.

However, nobody had informed him about what his best behaviour even was. In fact, nobody had ever really talked to him about it.

"Woohoo, now if this isn't the most beautiful maid my eyes have ever seen! Evening fine lady, may I require your name?", Kílis grinning face appeared by the corner of the alcove.

"Shut up", Fíli mumbled, pulling his coat closer around his shoulders.

"Shutup, is it? What an unusual name but oh well, I guess one cannot choose their own name!", he dramatically exclaimed, slumping on the stone bench next to his brother.

"One cannot choose anything it seems."

Quickly realising that he could not tempt his brother for a joke, Kíli shuffled closer, still smirking a little.

"What's bitten you then, huh? Great night tonight, loads of food, drink, music. Why the long face?"

Fíli glared at him.

"Beautiful long face, very beautiful though."

As his brother did not reply, Kíli again shuffled closer, now sitting right next to the elder, leaning onto his shoulder a little. He nudged him gently.

"Hey, talk to me."

"I can't do this", came the reply after a while.

"Can't do what?"

"This. All this. I don't even know what I'm doing."

"I don't know, looking fabulous?"

"Stop it, will you."

"Well", Kíli sighed, looked out upon the valley and the far mountains behind. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Failing. Failing Thorin, failing Durin, failing our mother-"

"Now that would be the worst!"

"I mean it. They're all coming here to see me but I don't think I want to see them."

Concern showed in Kílis eyes, as he watched his brothers strained face, the usual laughter gone from his bright blue eyes.

"Well, Thorin had to name an heir sometime, didn't he?"

"Yes, but why me?"

"Because you're", he paused, trying to find the right words.

"Because I'm the next in line, I know."

"No, because you're the best one for this."

Fíli pulled a face, giving his brother a questioning look.

"Me? I'm horrible at this. By Durin I even look horrible!"

"Well, you do look a bit like a porcelain doll right now. And a very expensive one at that."

Smiling, Kíli turned to his brother and reached for the golden clasps in his hair.

"Do you know the history of our kin?"

"Pretty much."

Fíli peered up at his brothers' fingers, not sure what he was on about now again.

"The story of Erebor?"

"By heart."

There went the first golden clasp.

"The leaders of the other six clans and their banners and domicile?"

"Sure."

The second clasp fell to the ground with a jingle.

"Do you like treasure?"

"Depends."

The third clasp was tucked from the blond mane.

"Do you have a good heart?"

"What?"

Kíli paused for a moment, then slowly repeated.

"Do you have a good heart?"

"I- I don't know."

The younger tucked the broche from his brothers' chest and stuffed it into the pocket of this vest.

"You do. And believe me, I know you do."

"And how would that help me?"

"It means you can't fail!", Kíli grinned cheerfully. "Because you are you and nobody could be you better than you and I know that I wouldn't want anybody else to be you and neither does Thorin."

Kíli looked at Fíli being Fíli again. The blonde hair a little ruffled and braided, his clothes simple and his face not eaten by sorrow anymore. Instead a small smile tucked at the corners of Fílis lips.

"You mean that?"

"Nope, I hate you, go away!"

Kíli laughed at the punch thrown against his shoulder.

"Come on now, we better get inside or they'll call the guards to come looking for the lost princess."

Kíli hurried off before he could be punched again, Fíli following close by. Amazingly enough, he felt better. Insecurity still hung over his head and he was afraid to face all those people in the hall. To face Thorin, who would look at him with this stern glare. And he still feared not quite living up to their expectations, saying something wrong or nothing at all, behaving like a twat or shaming his family. But it didn't seem all that bad anymore. Because there was someone, and even if it was just one, who liked him for who he was. And that someone was his idiot brother, prancing down the hall in front of him.

"Now remember", Kíli cleared his throat. "Be majestic. Gracile. Don't go stomping in there like a mountain troll as you usually do."

"Actually, that was you."

"Never, you're in denial. You're light as a feather. Repeat after me. You're light as a feath-", he couldn't finish his sentence before he sashayed right into an enormous pillar that, of course, he hadn't seen, too busy jabbering along.

Fíli strode past his staggering brother, the most majestic look on his face.

"You're light as an airhead. Repeat after me. Light as an airhead."