“Fíli, Kíli, you both should still be resting.”
…And speak of
the devil. How was it that whenever Kíli thought about his uncle, he
would appear behind him like… a summoned demon? It must be some sort of
eerie, unspoken, supernatural power that all guardian figures possess.
His mother was proof enough of that.
Uncle Thorin strode
confidently into the tent in his usual, majestic manner, the bottom of
his fur surcoat sweeping dramatically behind him.
Someday, after Erebor has been cleaned up, Kíli will purchase a furry overcoat and practice
walking around in it in front of a mirror so that he too could look
appropriately majestic. Apparently, Fíli was thinking about the exact
same thing judging from his quirked eyebrow.
Kíli smirked. Great minds think alike.