Kíli was sitting with his older brother Fíli. He was, at the moment, rather bored, which could prove disastrous to the surrounding area...

...Assuming he could get out of this blasted storage closet.

He and his brother- well. Suffice it to say that they were now stuck in a storage closet, having locked themselves in. Kíli was still sure it was Fíli's fault, no matter what his brother said. The younger dwarfling kicked his legs against the wooden bench, racking his brain for a plan of escape, or at least an idea to dispel his boredom. The two dwarves had journeyed to Uncle Thorin's city for Yule, dragged along by their mother, and had spent most of yesterday being underfoot. They had had similar plans for today, until Fíli decided to explore the stupid storage closet.

"Fíli, I'm bored." The younger dwarfling stretched out his foot and drummed it against his older brother's leg, beating out a rhythm fit for a war chant.

"That's the third time you've told me, brother." Fíli turned to face the wall, letting out a world-weary sigh.

"But it's true!" Kíli stretched farther toward his brother, nearly falling off the bench.

"Just because something is true, doesn't mean you have to say it," the older dwarf's voice darkened, "three times."

"Don't be grumpy! It's your fault we're stuck in here anyway." The dark-haired dwarfling pushed himself back into the corner, having given up on prodding his brother.

"My fault? How is this my fault? Remind me which one of us kicked the door closed?" Fíli asked, indignation ringing in his voice as he shifted on the bench to face his younger brother.

"But I didn't know it would lock! Who builds doors that lock by themselves, anyway?" Kíli attempted to look innocent and offended at the same time, the result being a rather comical expression.

"Paranoid ones, apparently. Why are you making that face?" Fíli was now looking mildly interested in what his brother had to say, a change from his normal bid to tune the younger dwarfling out.

"What face?" Kíli hastily rearranged his expression into one of confusion.

"It looked rather like... this." Fíli twisted his face into an approximation of the odd expression his brother's had worn previously, looking even more ridiculous than his brother had.

Kíli started laughing.

The younger dwarfling calmed down slightly, and paused, a look of wonder blooming across his face. "Brother, I just had an Idea!"

"Will it get us out of here?" Fíli's tone had shifted from bored irritation into veiled expectancy.

"No, but it will-" The dark-haired dwarfling was rudely interrupted.

"I don't want to hear it. " Fíli was back to his usual disinterest.

Kíli continued on, unfazed. "Let's have a face-making competition! Loser has to explain where we've been to Mother!"

"Face-making competition?" Now the blonde dwarf just sounded confused.

"Yes! We'll make faces at each other! You know, goblin faces, maiden faces..." Kíli trailed off, out of ideas.

"But who will judge?"

"...Never mind about the winning and losing part then," Kíli answered, sounding almost nervous.

"Why? Afraid you'll lose?" The older brother sat up, curious to see if Kíli would accept the challenge.

"Look at my maiden face!" Kíli batted his eyelashes and contrived to appear innocent. He had effectively changed the subject. If they decided to have winners and losers, Fíli would proclaim himself judge, claiming it as his right as older brother. And then Kíli would be stuck explaining their long absence to Mother, who was a formidable force when angry. And she would be angry. Possibly even furious.

"You look like a squirrel, brother." Fíli did his own impersonation of a maiden, batting his eyelashes and flipping his golden locks extravagantly.

Fíli was almost pouting now. He had to say something to get his brother back for calling him a squirrel.

"You only say that because you really do look like a maiden." There was a moment of shocked silence, and then...


Hello, my readers! I'm very happy with this, even though, admittedly, not much happened. You see, I've not written anything for months. I was beginning to think I no longer could. There will be one more chapter to this part, wherein Kíli is forced to eat his words, and Thorin makes an appearance. In fact, the idea that caused me to write this will be in the next chapter, and there will be character change. I would have kept going, but this seemed such a delicious place to stop. The later chapters of this fic should have some bro angst, though I don't have any ideas for a specific situation. Suggestions?

Note: Fíli is the dwarven equivalent of about ten, and Kíli is the dwarven equivalent of nine. Also, we do not write slash.

Please do tell me what you think, because I'm very curious to know.

~DarthMihi, and RandomCelt (editor)