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Dwarves had travelled far and wide for this auspicious day. It was one of their annual festivals, one that was observed at Erebor, celebrating the date they first had found gold. No one really knew what day, or who for even the memories of the Dwarves do not reach that far in the past, yet the force of tradition ensured this gathering happened yearly, under the roof of the King. The Blue Mountains temporarily held host to these traditions.

An early break-fast with their exhausted parents (who had been up all night preparing so many beds for the expected relatives) ensured Ori, Fili, Kili and Gimli were quieter (for time being) and well-behaved (the boys earnestly did try, Thorin only had to raise his voice a few times at the breakfast table and Gloin only had to stand once).

This is where the true story begins, starting precisely at the moment where breakfast is cut short by shouting. Balin rushed away to help Thorin welcome guests that had just arrived from the Iron Hills, forgetting to remind Dwalin that it was again, indeed his turn to watch the lads.

Oin and Gloin left shortly after, on a quest to find the new ear-trumpet that Gloin had made for his brother. It was impossible to keep track of the blasted thing, Oin swore, and his hearing was perfectly fine, thank you very much.

Uncle Dori had fixed them with a look (though none near as terrible as the stinkeye Mr. Dwalin had given Uncle Nori not ten minutes ago, when the dwarf filched the last of the smoked ham from the tattooed fellow's very plate, before he went after the thief, hand on the hilt of his battleaxe), telling them to finish their breakfasts (including the greens, yes Ori, all of it) and he would be right back after retrieving his brother's head.

This left the four young dwarflings sitting at the table by themselves, pondering what to occupy their idle little hands with. Gimli and Fili had developed a sort of rivalry which was only fueled by Kili's (shrill) insisting that his brother was definitely better than everyone else while Kili smiled proudly.

Ori tried to make himself scarce, reading through a herbology book that Nori had gifted him (though strangely, the title page was addressed to another) and Ori tried to reassure himself Nori still remembered his name. At the current moment, he was determined to prove to Dori that green things not only tasted icky but were bad for a dwarfling's health. He had already come across two green plants that were poisonous and he was absolutely sure this was not a coincidence.

The four had eventually found themselves outside by a stream where Gimli and Fili had challenged each other to a proper duel of manliness, that they had once seen demonstrated by Mr. Dwalin.

"Just come sit on my back Ori!" Gimli glared from the ground, beside Fili who looked triumphant with his younger brother eagerly perched on his back.

"I'm afraid I'll get sick… too much like a boat." Ori mumbled has he clambered on anyways, book stuffed beneath his sweater. And off they were, Gimli and Fili trying to outdo each other in pushups. Ori clung to Gimli's shirt tightly as Kili took turns both trying to sabotage the other team while egging his own brother on.

It so came to pass that one of Kili's shoves came a little too far, successfully toppling Ori (who was still clinging to Gimli with a death grip) while sending his own weight too far that the four tumbled dangerously close to the stream. Hapless Ori rolled right into the icy mountain brook flailing about in the current dragged him downstream. By the time Gimli, Fili and Kili had successfully launched a rescue mission (hampered by Ori's ridiculously absorbent knitted wool sweater and gloves) the small dwarfling was already soaked.

"My boot!" Kili stared down aghast at his foot, the stream having stolen his footwear as payment for disturbing its depths.

"My arms!" Gimli groaned, overtasked by the additional, unexpected challenge.

"My hair!" Fili cried, uncommonly proud of his blonde mane and incredibly upset about the manner the water had flattened it so.

"My book!" Ori wailed as he finally dug the volume from underneath his two sodden sweaters.

The three other dwarves froze guiltily. Gathering around, they watched as Ori tried to carefully peel the pages apart but the ink had already run.

The noon bell rung, shaking Ori out of his heart-broken revelry (would he never be able to prove to the world that greens were the enemy?). Fili, as the oldest, suddenly panicked.

"We can't go back now."

"Why not?" Ori whined, sick and tired of all of this. He was wet and cold and hungry.

"Uncle Thorin will be so mad if he sees us like this!" Fili had a newly-discovered talent for oratory which would serve him well if Dwalin and Thorin would let him live to be King.

"He'll have our hides!" Kili chimed, finally catching on.

Fili shot his little brother a proud look. He always was so deductive, he was.

"Well, what are we to do?" Gimli asked, temper mounting.

"We'll hide in the forest until our clothes are dry!" Fili declared.

Ori just cradled his book.

The grand adventure into the trees was cut short by grumbling stomachs of young, growing dwarf lads. Kili lead the way, trying to ignore the pangs as he held his brother's hand. Gimli followed grimly behind.

"I'm famished." Ori pipped up "Can we not just return?"

"We must starve," Fili replied solemnly.

"Berries!" Kili cried, lopping off to a bush by the path.

Before anyone could react, Kili eagerly grabbed a handful and shoved it in his mouth. Gimli and Fili ran afterwards, happy to share in the spoils. Ori shrieked like someone had stabbed him with a hot poker before dropping down on the ground and flipping through his book frantically.

"Whash ish itsh 'ri, ish goo" Kili intonated.

"I-I think that's a poisonous fruit," Ori replied flustered, squinting a page (did that say deadly or delicious? He couldn't tell.)

At those words, Fili pounced on his baby brother, trying to induce vomit.

"Spit it out Kili! Spit it out! Who shall be at my side?" he wailed.

Gimli didn't quite know what to do and settled for running back and forth.

The four dwarflings burst into the dining hall where their family had just frantically looking for their young charges.

Thorin looked at the four; Kili slung between Fili and Gimli, the red juice of the berries dripping from Kili's mouth and almost snapped his neck at his double-take.

"What in the name of Erebor is going on?" he thundered.

"Poisoned!" Fili shrieked, now cradling his confused brother in his arms, like the hero of an epic saga.

"What's that laddie?" Oin turned his head, finally noticing their entrance. "Frozen? I daresay the four of you certainly are."

"Poisoned?!" the rest of the dwarves shouted.

Gloin hastily shoved the rediscovered ear trumpet into his brother's ear.
"Poisoned!"

Dori looked skeptically at the mess dribbled down Kili's front.

"Currants."

Ori burst into tears.

For the rest of the stay, the dwarves carefully created a schedule of rotations where they would watch the younger generation with a careful eye, a station they swore to uphold even if the mountain was falling down about their ears.

A/N: Vita and I were talking about our love for dwarves and suddenly I finger-vomited this.- Lian