Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit.

Author's Note: Oops, I wrote another for the Hobbit again. Hopefully this would help me update my other ongoing story, now that my mind's in an "idea craze". Hopefully.

So basically, these stories (one-shots, rather), fall in the category "what if the Company of Thorin Oakenshield has powers". That's all.

I.

That lying son of an Orc.

Damn dwarrowdam. She's worth nothing without her husband's wealth! Filthy, deceiving wench…

Should I tell the guards that I caught old Kàvir stealing the smith's coins? But he scares me… I don't know what to do!

He clings like a troublesome leech to you, your idiotic lordship! You must be blind, not being able to see such a thing!

Those were only one of the kinds of words he had heard during his childhood years in the Mountain. Night and day, his mind never failed to perceive malicious thoughts toward one another masked by kind or innocent faces. Be him in the company of those who swore loyalty to the king (courtesy of his father) or with the general populace (this time his mother), harsh and unsavory thoughts directed at another were most of what his then young mind could hear.

(It was not that he has never heard of benevolent thoughts from a fellow dwarf's mind before; it was just he, as a young child, was curious and sad as to why others think of such harsh thoughts.)

With all the curiosity and innocence of a seven-year old, he once asked his parents why people say such things in their minds and what he should do to stop hearing them, to which the two only shared a knowing look and for his amad to gather him in her ever loving arms and gently tell him that it was what he was bound to find out as he grew.

And as time flew by, Balin son of Fundin learned how to stop others' thoughts from invading his mind and when to actually seek out and acknowledge those worthy to listen to. It was a tedious work and required a lot of concentration, but he slowly and surely, and smoothly, got the hang of it as he grew up. Balin was patient and diligent for a young dwarfling his age, eager to learn to control and be responsible with his gift, and with these traits he successfully achieved what he first thought he could not.

When his mother conceived and gave birth to his younger brother, Balin sought ways on how to help take care and raise his sibling and at the same time not to be a nuisance (not that he once ever was) so that his father could attend to his duties whenever Fundin's presence was required in the king's council. It was during those times that the young dwarf discovered another gift of his, shadowed by his ability to hear people's thoughts that he focused so much with.

"Bawin, I wan' cookie," three-year old Dwalin cooed at his older brother, dark eyes wide as a pleading pup's. The oldest son of Fundin gazed down at the toddler, eyes twinkling with amusement at the dwarfling bouncing on his lap.

Balin shifted his hold on the book he was reading to his brother and leveled his sibling with a look of mock seriousness. "I'm still reading you a story about Durin the Deathless, Dwal. Only if you promise to behave until I'm done will I give you the cookie you want."

The tiny dwarfling furrowed his brows in contemplation at his older brother's words. A moment later, young Dwalin gazed back up at Balin with a hopeful grin.

"Dwal get cookie?" he asked, stopping on his bouncing and leaning up to peer at Balin's face. The older between the two chuckled and flicked the toddler's nose playfully, causing the latter to let out a squeal of laughter.

"Only if you behave," he reminded Dwalin, trying and failing to mimic their father's sternness when in the king's presence. The tiny dwarfling nodded rather solemnly.

"Dwal pwomises."

Balin smiled in approval and ruffled his baby brother's thick dark locks. "Good. Now, Durin the Deathless…"

Dwal wan' cookie.

"…owned a great axe and a helm…"

I wuv amad an' adad an' Bal!

"…and it says in this book that Khâzad-dum was his…"

Bal nose, big.

Balin squawked loudly in protest at his brother's last thought. He closed one of his hands on Dwalin's smaller one when the latter reached up at his face and gave a great sigh at his baby brother's antics.

"My nose isn't big, Dwalin," the older retorted, a pout appearing on his round face. Dwalin slapped a hand on his mouth to suppress his laughter and only gave his brother a cheeky grin. Balin rolled his eyes in fond exasperation and grinned back at the dwarfling. Better give Dwalin a cookie now to make his mouth and mind to stop babbling if only temporarily. "Alright, little rascal, I'll give you your cookie."

The older dwarfling let out another amused chuckle at his baby brother's victorious crows. Gently and carefully, Balin lifted Dwalin off of his lap and settled the latter on the armchair the two of them were seated on. He then slid off the chair and walked towards the shelf where their mother always placed the jar of cookies she baked.

Looking up, the older son of Fundin was met by an obstacle. The jar was situated on the topmost section of the shelf, too high for him to reach but a relatively easy task for his parents. Balin frowned thoughtfully and scanned the sitting room for something he could use to step on for additional height for him to be able to retrieve the jar of cookies. He noticed a wooden stool beside the door, but judging by its height and his own, Balin knew that standing on top of it and on the tips of his toes would not suffice.

"Bawin, cookie?" came Dwalin's voice from the armchair.

Balin turned to look at his younger brother and gave a defeated sigh. The older glanced back at the jar and placed his small hands on his hips.

"I'm sorry nadadith, but I guess we'll have to wait for amad or adad to come home so they could get the jar for us," he told the toddler calmly. Balin was still small to be able to reach it, let alone drag one of the heavy armchairs towards the shelf. The dwarfling looked at the thick books resting on the shelf and scowled at the thought of piling them up and stepping on them. To him books were sacred, and he would rather choose to wait for their parents and endure Dwalin throwing a fit than to use a book or two as leverage to be able to get the cookie jar.

"No! Wan' cookie now!" Dwalin protested, slamming his tiny fists on the cushion. He gave his older brother a fierce scowl, lower lip jutting out. Balin knew that it was meant to intimidate him, but the look his little brother was giving him looked rather adorable than scary.

The older dwarfling chuckled and shook his head. Ever so patiently, he swept a hand up at the jar and smiled at his brother. "But I can't reach it, Dwal. I still won't reach it even if I use the stool and step on it. And no, I will never use the books to step on," he said, adding the last sentence when Dwalin's eyes darted from the tomes to him. Balin then held his hands, palms up, in front of Dwalin to show him that he was not holding the jar and presenting it to the latter like he usually did. "Look, nothing. I want to give you a cookie, too, Dwalin, but I really can't. I can't reach the jar. If only I could will it to float off the shelf and into my hands —"

Balin stopped in midsentence when something rather heavy dropped on his hands. At Dwalin's shriek of delight, the older dwarfling looked at what he was suddenly holding and his eyes widened in disbelief.

The cookie jar! But how—?

Balin held the jar carefully when he almost lost grip of it in his shock. How did it end up in his hands? One moment he was saying that it cannot just float off the shelf and land on his hands and the next, here it was. In his hands! But how indeed? It was not as if he was visualizing the jar drifting towards his outstretched hands to humor himself—

But he was, Balin realized with a start. He was vividly imagining the jar sliding off the shelf and hovering for a second before floating towards his hands. The dwarfling blinked, put the jar on the carpeted floor, and ran towards his little brother. His eyes snapped back to the jar standing innocently on the floor, unmoving. He hushed Dwalin when the latter started a chant that only contained the word 'cookie' and focused his gaze on the glass jar a few feet away from them.

Dark eyes glinting with curiosity, Balin concentrated for a moment and clearly pictured the jar zooming towards him. The thing did not move. He focused harder, ignoring Dwalin's voice for a moment, and, stretching a hand forward, willed the jar to come towards him.

The effect was instantaneous. The jar flew from the floor, as if with wings, and zoomed towards his outstretched hand. Balin quickly grasped the thing using both hands in fear that it might fall and looked at it with mounting disbelief. He did it; he actually summoned the jar from the floor to him (off the shelf first, though unwittingly)… like magic!

At Dwalin's insistence and prying hands, Balin opened the cookie jar and handed his baby brother a treat, still in shock and awe at what he just did. Managing a weak smile and nod at the toddler's thanks, the oldest son of Fundin wondered in amazement.

First, he could hear what other people were thinking. Now, he just discovered that he could move things just by concentrating on the task – without physically touching them!

Still in awe, Balin uttered a prayer of thanks to Mahal for his amazing gifts. He sincerely hoped that he could use these gifts for a good cause. The dwarfling smiled hopefully.

With these gifts, maybe I could help the king someday!

amad- mum

adad - dad

nadadith - little brother