Chapter Text
The sun had just set behind the peaks of the Lonely Mountain, casting long shadows over the stone streets of Erebor. The once-chaotic world that Calin and Nori had once known — full of shadows, deception, and survival — had given way to something far more ordinary, yet deeply fulfilling. Their days of hiding in the dark corners of the world, living as thieves and outcasts, were long behind them.
The small house they now called home sat at the edge of the city, not too far from the royal wing, yet far enough that the weight of the crown and its politics didn't linger too heavily on their doorstep. It was a modest place, made of stone and wood, with a roof of thatch that curled at the edges like the home of a simple family. But to Calin and Nori, it was a sanctuary. The walls were adorned with simple mementos of their lives — the small silver tokens of their past and the treasured family heirlooms Nori had salvaged from the wreckage of Erebor. The warm glow of hearth fires flickered in the windows as the smell of fresh bread and stew filled the air, a sign that peace had finally taken root in their lives.
It had taken years for them to find a path that didn't lead back to the shadows. After the great battles, and after the dust settled, the two of them faced the hard work of building a new life. And while they might have been shaped by their pasts — Calin, the scrap turned warrior, and Nori, the thief turned trusted agent — they had carved out a place for themselves in Erebor's new society, far from the shadows of their former lives.
They were no longer thieves. No longer outlaws.
They were the royal spies of Erebor, working under the direct command of the newly crowned king of Erebor Fili. They ensured the kingdom’s secrets stayed safe, its borders secure, and its people protected. The path that had once led them to a life of crime had somehow transformed into one of honor, loyalty, and service.
But that had not been an easy transition. The journey of redemption was not a quick one. It took years of hard work, sacrifice, and proving themselves to those who had once looked at them with suspicion. In the beginning, they had been met with wary glances and raised eyebrows — after all, Nori had once been infamous for his skill in getting past any lock or security, and Calin had been known for being as slippery as a fish in a stream. But over time, as they used their talents for good, their reputation shifted.
And it wasn’t just the spy work that had earned them the respect they had today. It was their quiet strength, their resilience, and, most of all, their love. The story of two former thieves turned honest dwarves spread through the halls of Erebor, and especially to the other thieves and rogues, who saw in Calin and Nori a reflection of themselves. If these two could change, could build something good and true, maybe there was hope for them, too.
Dwalin, the official captain of the guard, made it easier for thieves to turn their lives around. Like he had promised, he, Balin, and Fili worked tirelessly to reform Erebor's system of law. Dwalin ruled the streets with an iron fist, bringing justice to victims of crime while offering the chance of redemption for the scraps thrown to the streets.
Now, as they sat around the dinner table with their three children Alin, Kori, and little TIlba, Nori glanced across the room at Calin, his gaze soft with affection. They had made it. The past no longer held them prisoner, and the future seemed as full of promise as the stars above Erebor.
Calin sat at the head of the table, his eyes twinkling as he watched his family — his three children and his husband — all gathered together in the warmth of their home.
Alin, the eldest, was seated across from him, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he carefully took a bite of his bread, trying to suppress the grin that was slowly spreading across his face. Kori, the second son, sat next to Alin, his hands covered in crumbs as he proudly placed a small bread dragon on his plate — a piece of his handiwork that he had been perfecting throughout the meal. Kori looked up from his plate, grinning mischievously. “It’s a dragon, papa! A dragon!” He held up a piece of bread, shaped roughly like a creature’s head, and made growling noises.
Nori chuckled and ruffled his son’s hair. “A dragon, eh? Maybe one day, you’ll have the skills to slay one.”
Tilba, the youngest, bounced slightly in her seat, her wide eyes looking from one parent to the other as she waited for the moment she had been hoping for all evening.
The atmosphere was light, warm, and filled with the kind of comfort that only a family could create. The company had long since gone home, leaving the Fundins to their quiet evening together, and the children’s excitement was palpable as they savored the meal before them.
“Adad, Adad!” Tilba’s voice broke through the chatter, her small hands pressed to the table as she leaned toward Calin. “Tell us a story! I want to hear the one about how you and Papa met. You always tell it the best!”
Calin smiled fondly at his daughter, his heart swelling. He opened his mouth to respond when Alin, ever the instigator, grinned mischievously. He tossed a small piece of bread at his younger brother, Kori, who was intently inspecting the dragon he had made from his food.
“Oi!” Alin called out, leaning toward Kori. “You better save that dragon for dessert. I’m sure Papa would want to eat it first.”
Kori rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up inside him. “You’re just jealous you didn’t make anything that cool.”
Tilba giggled, clapping her hands. “You should make a dragon too, Alin! A big one! Like Smaug!”
“I could do that easily, but dragons are overrated. I’m more of an adventurer type, you know?” Alin leaned back in his chair, pretending to look thoughtful. “I’d rather be like Kili, or Uncle Ori, or even Thorin. I bet adventurers get all the cool stuff.”
“Oh really?” Calin leaned forward, grinning. “And what exactly do you think your father and I do, young man?” His voice was light, but there was an unmistakable note of teasing in it.
Alin shrugged, his playful grin widening. “You both go off on all kinds of secret missions and spy on people. That’s cool. And you get to sneak around and know all kinds of things that no one else does.”
Tilba bounced excitedly. “I want to be like you both! You and Papa! And I’ll be the best spy!”
Kori, who had been quietly concentrating on his bread dragon, looked up, a serious expression on his face. “I think I want to be like Uncle Dwalin. Strong, and brave, and protect people.” He nodded firmly as if the decision had been made long ago.
Alin raised an eyebrow at his younger brother. “You sure? I thought you might want to be like me since I’m such a cool adventurer.”
Kori smirked. “Being strong is cooler than being adventurous.”
Calin laughed, looking over at Nori, who was sitting beside him, shaking his head fondly at the children’s banter. “Well, your father and I may be the spies, but you’re right about Dwalin.” Calin praised his older brother, “He’s a good one to look up to, Kori. And Alin... you’re not too bad yourself.”
“You’re both great, Adad. I want to be just like you, too, Papa.” Tilba piped up with a beaming smile, clearly pleased with the attention her words were drawing.
“Do you now?” Nori chuckled, tousling Tilba’s hair affectionately. “And why is that, little miss?”
“Because you’re brave and funny, and you never let anyone tell you what to do!” Tilba grinned, clearly proud of her assessment.
Nori feigned offense, placing his hand over his chest. “I never tell anyone what to do! I just offer suggestions.”
“You’re a terrible liar, Nori,” Calin teased, leaning in to kiss his husband on the cheek. “You’re absolutely terrible at it.”
“You’re lucky I love you,” Nori smirked, his eyes twinkling, though his voice was warm and affectionate.
“Alright, alright, enough!” Alin groaned in mock exasperation. “We’re not getting anywhere at this rate! If everyone’s going to be so sappy, I’m going to bed now.”
“Not yet!” Kori protested, grabbing his brother’s sleeve. “We still have to finish the story! You promised, Adad!”
Calin chuckled, shaking his head as he took a deep breath. “Alright, alright...” He smiled at Nori, who gave him a knowing glance. “Well, it all started when your father and I first met, out in the prisons of the Blue Mountains.”
As Calin launched into the familiar tale of how he and Nori had first crossed paths — a story that was as much a part of their family lore as any other — the children listened intently, their faces lit with wonder and excitement. They knew the story well, but it never seemed to lose its magic.
“And when your father decided it was time to escape,” Calin continued, grinning at Nori, “he thought he could outrun me, but I was too clever for him.”
Nori rolled his eyes. “I didn’t think I could outrun you, I was just buying some time.”
Alin raised an eyebrow. “How much time did you actually buy?”
Nori grinned. “Enough to get him to like me.”
The children burst into giggles at that, the meal and the moment stretching on in perfect harmony.
As the evening wound down, the meal finally finished and the dishes cleared, the children made their way to bed, eager to rest their tired bodies for the new adventures of tomorrow. Kori and Alin shared a room, and Tilba, still glowing from the attention, went to her own cozy little bed nearby.
Calin and Nori lingered a little longer, standing together by the hearth as the last embers of the fire flickered and cracked in the fireplace.
“Can you believe how far we’ve come?” Calin asked, his voice soft as he leaned into Nori’s side, his hand resting on Nori’s shoulder.
Nori’s eyes softened as he looked down at his husband, his voice barely above a whisper. “Sometimes, it feels like a dream, Calin. But then I look at our children, and I know it’s real.”
Calin smiled, his heart full. “We’ve built something beautiful, haven’t we?”
“Yes, we have.” Nori’s voice was thick with emotion. “Something that matters.”
They stood together in the quiet of their home, the sounds of the night outside the mountain walls distant and unimportant, as they reflected on how far they had come — from thieves and outcasts to this: a family, a home, and a life they had forged with love, hope, and a little bit of mischief.
The fire crackled softly as they held each other, the warmth of the flames and their love filling the space between them, and for the first time in a long while, everything felt right.
Everything was as it should be.