I do not own any part pertaining to the The book ; THE HOBBIT or its characters, any part here is of my own. And the characters are my own imaginations.

Coming Of Age – Chapter 1

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This story took place over a hundred years before Smaug the dragons ever took the notion of coming to Erebor and settled down!

For a Dwarf maiden, turning twenty-one, or Coming of Age was a very important occasion. So much so that King Thrain made it an annual feast for the Kingdom's dwarven maidens.

Every dwarf maiden was excited on this occasion as this was a chance for them to be presented to the King…and Prince Thorin. He was the current most eligible and handsomest bachelor in Erebor, the Kingdom ruled by Thrain with the nearby city of Dale also inhabited by the hard working Dwarves. Even the young men turning 21 were excited as they were invited to the grand feast at the Palace.

Thorin, at the moment, was not amused by the title his best friends who were also his cousins and his youngest and only brother, had given him. He was pacing angrily in his chambers as he fidgeted and fussed with his new outfit; a most uncomfortable high collar buttoned, and terribly constricted around his thick neck and constraining his chin. There was a long row of buttons that continued down to the bottom that ended below his knees with long sleeves that ended at his wrists. Tunic was what his valet had called it. Thorin had snorted as it resembled more a half dress than a masculine outfit more suited his usual style; he preferred his usual outfit which was a casual shirt that had a few buttons that made for easy removal and fastening.

"Young Prince," His valet, Crimm sighed again for the umpteenth time. "If you'll please stop tugging around the neck button or you'll tear it out before the ceremony starts!"

Thorin dropped his hand by his side and glared at him, Crimm wisely refrained as he quickly brushed the tunic free of dust.

The door to his room suddenly banged open as Thorin's youngest brother, Frerin, came stomping in; his face was as dark as his brother.

"Crimm, what the devil is this …this…dress? We'll be the laughing stock of the ceremony!" He glared at the valet in the exact same manner as his brother. Were it not for the fact that the brothers were several years apart, Crimm could have sworn he thought they were carbon copies. Luckily something else set them apart as well was the color of their tunic; while Thorin was sapphire that enhanced his ice blue eyes, Frerin was maroon, matching his amber-brown eyes.

In truth, the princely brothers looked very regal in their outfits.

Crimm rolled his eyes upward, "Your Highnesses, it's called a tunic. It's a masculine outfit and it's very regal for young princes such as you to look good. Is it so hard for me to keep you gentlemen looking well and attractive? Who's to know, you might find the one tonight Thorin."

The two said princes exchange arched looks and then burst into laughter much to the consternation of their beloved valet who had been with the family since King Thrain was a wee dwarf baby.

"Laugh all you want. Mark my words, you two imps. Mark my words. Someone is going to knock you over." He left the room without further words.

Thorin frowned after Crimm had left sadly. "I think we hurt his feelings this time, Frerin."

Frerin shook his head, "Oh no, I didn't you did, Thorin. You're always saying stupid things to Crimm."

Thorin frowned at his younger brother, "Do you think I should seek him and apologize?"

Frerin shook his head, "Nah, he'll be all right by the morrow. Besides, we must meet with father now or he'll give us the same lecture on punctuality again."

Thorin nodded as he threw his arm around his beloved brother, "You're right, we best get on our way, Frerin."

They left the chambers arm in arm soon and made their way to the Main Halls where the King was waiting for his two sons, and the Feast of the Coming of Age. A ceremony in which all dwarves who turned 21 were invited to feast at the palace. King Thrain looked forward to this as he was always looking forward to a future Queen for his eldest son. Although he may be still very young but it was never too young to start looking for now as female dwarves were scarce.

And so far, Thorin had not shown any interest in choosing his future queen.

His father, King Thrain, was seated in his throne.

The two princes approaching the throne made their bows and moved to stand to his right.

Thrain looked at his sons and saw Thorin's scowl and asked, "Why do you look as if I'm about to sentence you to the dungeons?"

Thorin shrugged, "Because I think this ceremony is just a bunch of crock…sir."

Frerin suddenly was overcome with fits of coughs; his face of turning into the same shade as his tunic.

His father, once he found that his youngest son was in no danger of dying from choking, sighed, "Thorin, we go through this every year. You are of marriageable age. You need a wife and a queen, I need grandchildren. The Durin line must go on."

"But mother just had Dis. She is still young and has many more years to go. How is she, by the way?" Thorin asked.

The Queen had just given birth to their first and only daughter, Dis. The Queen was finally happy to have a daughter after giving her King two sons. She was now in confinement to recuperate from the happy but difficult birth.

"Your mother is resting, happy but weak. She will be happy you asked about her. Don't think I don't know you're changing the subject…."

Thorin nodded and tuned out as he thought about his mother; since her confinement he had not talked to her. They had been close-knit. He shared his problems with her more than he did with his father. He cherished their talks, he couldn't wait when she was well enough to emerge from her chambers and also to get a glimpse of the newest addition of the family whom he was told was a cutest and chubbiest little babe. He felt protective of his little sister already.

"…a line in the family I am worry that you will not take all this seriously." The King continued his speech about his family's lineage. "You're not getting any younger, son. And you're the oldest. Your mother is desiring grandchildren."

This time it was Thorin that was choking, Frerin was now happily patting his brother's back a little bit harder than necessary. Thorin shove his hand away.

"Father, I think I'm still young and have plenty of time.

Thrain shook his head, "By Durin's tomb…"

Thorin and Frerin muttered together as their father uttered, "…why me?"

…..

While the Princes were waiting for the ceremony to begin, over in the city of Dale, in a modest house of a metal smither lived a widowed dwarf and his twin son and daughter.

The twins were identical by the names of ThoraLee for the girl, and the boy, JoraLee.

"What is the purpose of these things?" She pointed at the sleeves; she was used to wearing trousers and rolled up fitted sleeves, so she could move about when she worked.

"I can't carve a piece of metal with these…these… cumbersome sleeves!"

Her father, Erimm, laughed indulgently at his daughter. Then he sobered up quickly when she turned around to glare at him; she looked so much like their mother his beloved late wife.

ThoraLee had grown up beautifully; she was tall and slim, usual for a dwarf female as they were usually short in stature and plump. Her hands were slender and dainty, fingers long and trim, easy for fine handling for carving. Her twin was similarly built. Their slender built gave them the agility and ease for sword fighting, almost like elves. The two were fast runners too; they were able to outrun from trouble at an early age.

Her brother came out of his bedroom head down, buttoning his long sleeved shirt, the same turquoise color material she was wearing. "Too bad you're not a boy." He looked up but quickly ducked down again as a wooden projectile came wheezing past his head; it came from the general direction of his sister. He arched his eyebrow, "Getting rusty with your aim?"

She stuck her tongue out at him, "It's these confounded sleeves! I've a good mind to cut them off!"

"NO!" Their father exclaimed in horror! "Shoshin worked hard on them!" Naming their local seamstress.

"She must be getting on her years! The size of the sleeves, you can fit a child in there!"

His father shook his head, trying not to laugh at his daughter.

ThoraLee shook her head and rolled her eyes, "I don't understand why we have to act as if we're a herd of sheep, ripe and ready for the great Prince Thorin's taking. Oh yes, he is eligible. He is seeking a bride, a future queen, blah, blah, blah…boring. If you ask me, this is a bunch of crock."

Her father was glaring at her, "Well, no one is asking you, young lady. It's a tradition."

"It's a disgusting tradition that should be done away. Why can't he find his wife in the old traditional way?"

"And what's that?" JoraLee asked her.

"Oh, like falling in love." She said angrily.

JoraLee began to laugh, "There's no such thing, Lee. Falling in love, huh!"

"Enough, Lee, you're giving me a giant headache! By Durin's tomb…" he muttered as he shook his head.

The twins grinned at each other as they muttered with their father, "…why me?"

Then her father looked up again and said, "You two will be the death of me!"

Lee smiled softly as she hugged her beloved father, "Father, please, you know you'll live a ripe old age of whatever ripe old age lives." She flapped her sleeve about. "Besides, don't you want to see Jora's children?"

She knew she played her trump card well when she saw his eyes lit up

But JoraLee's eyes were throwing daggers at her, "I don't think so, Lee! I'm too busy making sharp pointy darts…darts I'm about to throw them at you hoping it'll land on your stupid giant head!"

ThoraLee began to guffaw like a boy, "You'll only miss me, I'll catch them in these stupid giant sleeves!"

The twins began to laugh heartily at their silliness.

Their father shook his head, then suddenly he remembered something, "Oh, I almost forgot to tell you two imps, your Uncle has a gift for each of you, so I guess you'll have to go to Erebor after all."

ThoraLee's eyes lit up; Crimm was the twins' father's oldest brother, and the twins' favorite relative. They loved to visit their uncle whenever they could which was not very often as he was the Royal Valet. But whenever their Uncle visited them, the twins was ecstatic as he always brought them candy and little jewelry trinkets. Candy was the favorite as candies were an unusual treat; it was given to him from the Royal family through their travels from outside of the Mountains.

Clasping her twin's hand eagerly, Lee said, "What are we waiting for then? Come along!" She gave their father a hug and a peck on his wrinkled cheek before pulling her brother away from the house.

Their ponies were waiting by the front of the house. It was a good long walk to Erebor, so taking their ponies would be a prudent and logical thing to do.

As they rode out, she saw that the others were ahead of them, all in a happy and anticipatory mood.

As their father watched them leave, he sat out on the porch and lit a pipe and looked up into the stars, "Emmerlina, I never thought this day would come, but we made it. Our children are grown and how beautiful they had become. You would have been so proud of them, Emmerlina, so proud of them…I just hope they behave, this one time. Please watch over them, my darling. That's all I ask of you." He took a puff of smoke and blew a big smoke ring that floated out into the skies.

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End of Chapter 1