Lightning crashed overhead, thunder shaking the mountain around him, but Bírli stood firm at his post. The storm had come out of nowhere, boiling up over the mountains from the sea with all the force of a hurricane. It wasn't quite there yet, but there were some who feared that the mountains wouldn't shelter them enough from this storm.

He hadn't wanted to go, but when there had been a call for guards along the top of the mountain, he had known that he had to volunteer. He had skipped too many shifts lately, the promise of his second tot's birth keeping him away from his post. Most had understood because a dwarfling was a blessing that the entire mountain would celebrate, but there had been some that had grumbled. They had muttered that he thought himself better because he had married into the precious line of Durin.

He didn't give two shits what they thought of him because it wouldn't have mattered to him if Dís had been born a princess or a pauper. She was his One and he would have done everything the same way to win her over. She was the piece that made him whole. She was the mother of his son, the continuation of not only her line but his as well since his older brother refused to wed.

Fíli, his little lion, his golden haired treasure who finally had his feet firmly under him and was running the entire length of their home now. His little son didn't like storms; usually spent them curled between his parents in their large bed and recently had used that time to babble to Dís' swollen stomach.

There was no doubt in Bírli's mind that Fíli was nestled in his mother's arms, constantly asking her where Da was. But every crack of lightning and boom of thunder would have him cowering, ducking his little blond head under the covers to hide from the monsters making the noise.

Checking the time device mounted on the side of his station, he sighed. One more hour. One more stretch and he could return to his family. His lips twitched at that. His family. There had been a time when he hadn't wanted that. Or rather he hadn't thought about it. He was only a second son and had deviated from the norm by choosing the path of the warrior. No one had expected him to continue their line and yet he had. He had added another golden dwarfling, another little lion, and there was another on the way.

"I will concede that it's likely another son, but you cannot convince me that he'll be another lion."

Bírli looked up from where he had been playing on the floor with Fíli. "What's wrong with that?" he asked. "I thought you liked us lions."

Dís shot him a look, one hand stirring a pot of stew while the other stroked her belly. "I love you both more than anything on this earth," she corrected, "but this one will be Durin dark."

Humming softly, Bírli scooped Fíli up into his lap. "What do you think, lad?" he asked, smiling as blue eyes looked up at him. It never ceased to amaze him to see those clear eyes staring up at him from a face that was a blend of his own and Dís'. For certain, Fíli had gotten the Durin nose, but his brow, mouth and the shape of his eyes were all Bírli. And then those crystal clear, blue eyes. Fíli was a lion, but there was no doubt that he was a Durin as well.

"Wha, Da?" Fíli chirped.

"Do you think your brother is going to have our hair or Mama's?"

His little brows scrunched together and he stared hard at Bírli for a moment before that intense gaze flicked to his mother. "Mama," he said firmly.

Bírli rolled his eyes even as Dís smiled triumphantly, as if Fíli had the final say on what the dwarfling would look like. Standing, he gave his son a toss that had him squealing and flailing in delight. "It doesn't matter either way," he said, catching Fíli and rubbing his nose against the dwarfling's. "So long as he has hair."

"Bírli, you're being ridiculous," Dís snorted. "Of course he'll have hair."

Wincing slightly as toddler strong hands grasped onto the braids on either side of his face, Bírli patiently waited for Fíli to stop tugging and flailing with them and decided it was best not to respond to that remark. Instead he studied the little face scant inches from his own. The lad's hair wasn't quite long enough to braid yet, but it was at the point where it had to be pinned back from his face. For some reason, he had an obsession with braids, but not just any braids. He seemed only fascinated by father and uncle's. He didn't seem to care about anyone else's and delighted in trying to rip them out. Dís said he was only playing, but since Fíli had never attempted to remove her braids, Bírli and Thorin always politely told her to stay out of it.

"Oh."

Father and son froze before their gazes both jerked to Dís. She had stopped stirring and had both hands pressed to her stomach. "Âzyung?" he asked gently.

She gave him a slightly pained smile. "He's…very active right now," she said.

Lowering Fíli into his arms, Bírli quickly crossed the room, nudging over a chair for her to sit in. "I'll make dinner," he offered, setting Fíli down beside her.

"You?" she asked, lifting her brows. "Bírli, you burn water."

"I do not," he huffed.

"I'm fine," she insisted. "He's just constantly putting his foot in my ribs and it is an unpleasant feeling."

He couldn't even imagine.

That had been a week ago and he had started paying closer attention to his wife. Not that he didn't already, but he watched for little clues. As soon as that line between her brows formed, he made her stop whatever she was doing and either sit down to ride out whatever pain the dwarfling was causing her or walk around until he calmed. Fíli would always watch wide eyed, wanting his mother to hold him but instinctively knowing that it would only cause her more pain.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Bírli blocked out the storm and everything else around him. Neither Dís nor Fíli had wanted him to come out tonight. Thorin had even told him to stay, to be with his family, but he couldn't miss another shift. His brother by marriage had said that he hadn't missed that many, that his family was more important than any job the mountain could give. Bírli agreed with him, but that didn't earn money and put food on the table. And with an extra mouth soon to be with them, he needed to work. Once the dwarfling was here, he would be allowed to miss shifts more frequently and wouldn't feel obligated to do this. But for now he had to work.

Dark eyes opened to study the equally dark mountains before him. They were being pelted with winds and rain, the slopes even more dangerous as the water froze to the peaks. Nothing came over these mountains, but the posts were still maintained because that was tradition and one did not break with tradition.

Bírli snorted. He had married someone outside of the Firebeards and Broadbeams that populated these mountains. Their numbers hadn't been large and the Erebor refugees had swelled their ranks, but there were some who frowned at the crossing of the lines.

"Hang them all and let Mahal sort them out," Bírli muttered. They were dwarves and that was what mattered. A dwarf didn't pick his or her One. They only counted themselves lucky if they found them. Or they ignored the signs and continued with their lives. But now that he had Dís, Bírli could barely remember his life before except that it had been empty and he'd never realised it.

He tensed when he heard footfalls on the steps leading up to his post. Hefting his hammer, he knew that it wasn't the greatest for this close proximity, but it would give him the chance to knock around whoever was coming up here. Then he would be able to draw his sword to finish it. Slipping into the corner beside the entrance, he waited for whoever it was. His shift wasn't over. He still had forty-five minutes left and he would rather be safe than sorry.

The footsteps stopped before anyone came into view and Bírli calmed his heart and his breathing. He had survived ambushes before and this would be no different. Why had he agreed to take this position? It was the furthest from the city and was most open to attack. Dís would have his head if he told her so he wasn't going to tell her unless forced. Of course, if he came home with wounds, he would have to tell her how he had gotten them.

A boot scraped against the stone steps and the sound sent chills down Bírli's spine. Was it deliberate? Were they trying to goad him into revealing where he was?

"…Bírli? Laddie, where are you?"

Blowing out a harsh breath as he recognized the voice as one of Thorin's cousins, Bírli muttered, "Balin, what in Mahal's name were you thinking?"

A greying shock of hair appeared in the door and Bírli finally relaxed as he actually saw Balin's face. "Were you going to try to pop me off?" he asked, eyeing Bírli's hammer.

Bírli let the weapon rest against his shoulders and lifted a brow. "You were sneaking up on me in the most ambushed spot in the entire mountain."

"I was not sneaking. You wouldn't have heard me over this racket if I had been."

"Either way," Bírli muttered. "I'm not going to lose my life when my second son is so close to being here."

Balin's eyes softened. "That's why I'm here, laddie."

Bírli's stomach dropped into his boots. "Something's happened?" he whispered. "Balin! What's happened?! Tell me!"

"Easy, laddie, breathe! You're no good to anyone if you pass out here!"

Sucking in a sharp breath, Bírli couldn't control the rapid fire beating of his heart. He shouldn't have taken the job tonight. He should have stayed home with his family. What kind of fool was he to take a job when his family needed him?

"Easy," Balin repeated, reaching out to grip his arm. "Breathe. That's it."

Blinking away the spots that were forming in his eyes, Bírli squeezed them shut for a moment before locking gazes with Balin again. "What happened?" he asked as calmly as he could.

"He's coming."

His heart went from rapid fire to full out pounding of a war drum. "Now?" he whispered but it was lost as thunder shook the mountains.

Balin knew what he had said and nodded. "Aye. I'm going to cover the rest of your shift and-"

"Thank you!" Bírli cut in, slinging his hammer onto his back. "Thank you, cousin!"

A smile crossed Balin's face and he pointed at the stairs. "Go carefully, cousin," he warned. "The halls are slick and we are far from home."

Nodding, he refrained from running down the stairs. The older dwarf was right. He was no good to his family if he hurt himself now. Dís. Mahal, what kind of pain was she in, trying to bring their dwarfling into the world? The tot was already stubborn so this birth was not going to be easy. And his little lion. Was Thorin there, trying to console a boy that was probably shaking in fear from the storm and whatever screams were leaving his mother?

"I'm coming," he whispered, hurrying down the hallway when he reached it.

There was a dampness to the stone that wasn't normal and Bírli cursed it as it slowed him down. The hallways were lit with torches but there were spaces where the lights didn't touch. He tensed every time he passed one of those, knowing that deals in the dark were not something he wanted to encounter. Even though they should have been clear, he pulled out his sword, unwilling to risk the off chance that his fellow guards hadn't done their job.

His heart was like thunder in his ears as he finally reached the steps leading into the city. He kept his sword out as he went down them, silently counting until he reached the level his home was on. As soon as his feet touched that stone, the sword was sheathed and he was bolting away from the stairs. His muscles screamed at the sudden use after being still in the cold for so long, but he ignored it. He needed to be home. He should have been home already.

Catching hold of the corner of a building, he used it to propel himself around it and didn't break his stride. He could see the walls of his home. The front room was blazing with light even through the shutters. Was Thorin pacing in there with Fíli in his arms? He could barely breathe as he reached the door, his heart clogging his throat, and he forced himself not to just burst in. There was no need to startle anyone further.

"Da!" Fíli yelled as he stepped through the doorway.

Bírli opened his arms and scooped up the tot that ran directly at him. "Shh," he soothed, rubbing Fíli's back as he felt the lad trembling. "Da's here now."

"Mama!"

Looking up from the golden head pressing into his shoulder, he met Thorin's gaze and lifted a brow.

"He's coming fast," Thorin said lowly. "Much faster than any dwarfling I've heard of before."

Bírli's heart skipped a beat but he didn't let it show. "Here, lad, can you go to Uncle for a moment so I can take my boots off?"

Little arms tightened around his neck before Fíli nodded and allowed himself to be shifted to Thorin's grasp.

Bírli quickly shed himself of boots and weapons, tucking the wet leather beside the fire and hanging the weapons well above a dwarfling's reach. He had barely gotten a new pair of boots on before Fíli was practically leaping back into his arms. "Thank you for being here," he told Thorin quietly, rubbing his son's back again.

"We don't abandon family."

There had been a time when Bírli hadn't been sure he would be accepted into that family. But after he had finally been allowed to court Dís, he had gotten the truth of the matter. Family was all that Thorin had left and of that family only Dís remained. His little sister, jewel of the line of Durin, was not going to be given to just anyone. But Thorin had warmed to him as much as the other could. Bírli was sure that the fact that he was Dís' One had gone a long way in soothing Thorin's nerves about the whole relationship. Fíli's birth had simply sealed the deal and Bírli was family.

He tensed when a low cry echoed through the house and Fíli whimpered in his arms. "Dís," he whispered, heart aching that she was in pain.

"We aren't allowed in," Thorin growled.

Bírli said something short and rude that wasn't meant for dwarfling ears. "That is my wife and babe," he said flatly. "They can't keep me out."

"Oín set Dwalin on the door."

"Why?" Bírli demanded.

"To keep us out."

Pacing around the room, he kept rubbing his son's back, soothing circles and long passes. "If it's bad, they would tell us."

"Aye, but Oín said that the babe is-"

"Coming fast, I heard the first time. That doesn't mean a damn thing. I was there for Fíli's birth, every second of it. Why is this one different?"

"I don't know."

Bírli spun on his heel and left the room. That was a foolish notion. Keeping him from being with his wife when she needed him? Idiocy.

"You can't go in, Bírli," Dwalin's deep voice rumbled as he came in sight of the bedroom door.

"That is my wife and babe, Dwalin," he said flatly.

"Healer's orders. He's looking after that wife and babe of yours."

Grinding his teeth, Bírli studied the warrior. He couldn't take him and Dwalin wouldn't do anything with Fíli in his father's arms. "Dwalin-"

"Bírli, it is for everyone's best interest that only the healers be in there."

"Healers?" Bírli echoed. "Oín brought someone else?" He didn't like that. Oín had never had anyone assist him before. Was it a sign that something was wrong?

"Easy, it's an assistant who wants to learn the trade. Nothing more."

"But why my wife?" he growled. "Surely they can learn something else on someone else."

"Yes, because everyone is having dwarflings."

Bírli threw a glare at Dwalin. "If you ever have dwarflings of your own, you'll understand how I'm feeling," he snapped. "You all think I'm mad but none of you understand."

Dwalin inclined his head slightly. "Most of us will never understand, Bírli, but I'm still not moving until-"

A high pitched wail cut him off.

Staring at the door behind the taller dwarf, Bírli shook his head. "He can't be here already," he whispered, feeling Fíli push away from his shoulder to stare as well. "It's too soon."

Dwalin was frowning over his shoulder and Bírli heard the sounds of voices over the wail of the babe. Heavy footsteps came down the hall and Thorin was with them as well, but the door didn't open.

"Dwalin," Bírli said again, preparing himself to go through the dwarf despite his chances of failure.

Blue eyes swung around and surprise filled Bírli when the other stepped aside. That wasn't a good sign if Dwalin agreed he needed to be in that room.

One hand grasped the door handle and pushed the door open. Heat assaulted him as soon as he stepped through, the fire blazing to keep both mother and tot warm. The scent of blood was the second thing he noticed and he pressed Fíli's face back into his shoulder to try to spare him of it. But then he noticed Oín attending Dís and a dwarf he didn't know had the babe. "Who are you?" he demanded, bad feelings crawling up and down his spine.

A dark head jerked around, surprise written across the face. Before he could answer, Oín muttered, "Damn Dwalin can't keep the door."

Bírli didn't look away from the stranger. There was something about him that Bírli didn't like. Add that to the fact that the 'healer' was holding the babe and he wished he hadn't gotten rid of his weapons so soon.

The stranger quickly wrapped the tot in a blanket and brought the squirming, wailing bundle over to Bírli. "Your son," he said, smiling. "Congratulations."

Shifting his grip on Fíli, Bírli took his second dwarfling and stepped back from the other. "Thank you," he replied, moving to the side of the bed, but keeping the dwarf in sight.

"Bírli?"

He finally looked away, looking down at Dís. Her eyes were dark with pain and whatever medicines Oín had given her to help with the birth. "Dís," he breathed, leaning over her to kiss her forehead. "Beautiful jewel, love of my life."

Her lips twitched faintly. "Flatterer," she murmured. "Let me see him."

Fíli was squirming in his grip but it was nothing compared to the babe. Carefully shifting the blanket wrapped bundle, Bírli sat more firmly on the bed and plopped Fíli in his lap so he could see better.

"Oh, look at him," Dís breathed.

Bírli finally realised that he hadn't looked at the babe-his son. The words sunk into his brain and he nearly forgot how to breathe. They had teased, saying it was going to be another male, but he hadn't really heard the words. Leaning forward, a short laugh left him as he saw a thick shock of dark hair above a red face. "Not a lion," he said softly.

"He certainly roars like one," Dís laughed, brushing a kiss over their son's brow.

Smiling, he agreed with that. Looking down, he saw that Fíli was completely enraptured by his baby brother. It didn't seem to matter that the babe was still fussing; Fíli looked exactly as an older brother should, loving and ready to hurt anyone who hurt his sibling. Bírli kissed the top of his head, hiding another smile in Fíli's thick hair.

"Oh. Oh, Bírli, look."

His gaze shifted back to their second son and his heart skipped a beat before a laugh left him. Dark eyes were gazing back at him, thick lashes framing the brown irises exactly like his father's. "Well," he murmured. "Look at that."

"Mama, what's name?" Fíli asked, not looking away from his brother.

Bírli glanced up to see that Dís was smiling at their elder son. "Kíli, my little lion," she said softly. "His name is Kíli."

A/N: …Well this exploded into something it wasn't supposed to be. Was told to write something cute and fluffy because I couldn't think of anything to write and was then told to write about Dís and Bírli. Which I'm cool with because I want to flesh out their story a bit anyways. It was supposed to be a short drabble. This is not a short drabble. This is a full-fledged update, chapter thingy that came out of left field. What the hell. But in writing this, certain plot points in Aftershocks have now become clear to me so that's a win yes? Obviously, this ties into Aftershocks since that's the story Bírli's from but it kind of serves as a stand alone piece as well. But! Thank you for reading and god help me if there's going to be more on this!

Âzyung: love