Even if it’s hella, hella late. Regardless justatouchofgoldsickness, enjoy.
———-
Thráin dearly loved his children, but he did wish that they had allowed him this one day of the year to sleep in. As it was, he was awoken by his youngest sitting astride his shoulders.
“Adaaaa…” she crooned as his sons giggled and snorted from the end of the bed. “Ada, wake up. Ama’s made breakfaaaast…”
“Ada, Náin’s here, and he’s brought his get,” Thorin told him blandly, casually shoving a squawking Frerin off the bed. “Better get up before Dáin destroys your receiving room.”
“Let him,” Thráin mumbled, shoving his face further into the pillow as he spoke. “I can make Náin pay for it and laugh at him.”
“Ama won’t be pleased,” Frerin chirped, peeking over the edge of the bed.
“’S my name-day. I can do what I like,” he informed his son.
“That excuse never works on my name-day,” Frerin complained. Thráin grunted as his youngest began bouncing enthusiastically on his shoulders, giggling.
“That’s because whenever you try to use that excuse, you’ve done far worse than let your cousin destroy my receiving room.” Thráin told him.
“Nu-uh, one of those times that’s exactly what happened.”
“No, that time you destroyed it and blamed it on Dáin despite the fact that he was too young to have achieved that level of chaos,” he contradicted, “and anyway, it’s my receiving room to destroy as I please.”
“Ada, just get up!” Dís wailed, bouncing violently enough to knock the breath from his lungs. “Ama won’t let us eat until you get first choice!”
He snored loudly and unconvincingly, making both Frerin and Dís release offended squeals and Thorin collapse in a fit of giggles.
“All right, you great lump,” his wife ordered from the doorway amusement in her tone. “Don’t starve the children.”
“They could stand to lose a few pounds,” he grumbled playfully, sitting up with some difficulty and dislodging Dís in the process. She collapsed to the bed in a fit of giggles. “Most days Thorin seems to be growing sideways more swiftly than he does upward.”
This time Thorin was the one to release an offended squawk.
——————————
The fire was crackling merrily as his his three children and Dáin wrestled on the rug. He laughed heartily as Frerin pinned his older brother triumphantly and Thorin concealed an indulgent smile.
A pair of study hands landed gently on his shoulders.
“Good day, my love?”
He twisted in his seat to drop a kiss on Frís’ nose.
“Each name-day is better than the last, darling.”
“Cheating!” Dáin shrieked behind them.
Dís cackled and something crashed. Frís didn’t break eye contact with him.
“If I don’t look, it never happened,” she informed him seriously.
“It was ugly anyway,” Frerin chirped hopefully.
His wife sighed, and Thráin’s amused chuckles joined Náin’s unrestrained laughter.
Okay, would you judge me if I collected all the birthday fics on AO3?
Also, determamfidd, forgot to tag you originally. Thought this would make you smile.
oh my GOD is this the cutest thing ever or what! AWW KILI, IT IS ABSOLUTELY LOVELY (happy Line of Durin??? PINCH ME I’M DREAMING)
Aw Yiss 