Frerin laughs, an arm winding around Thorin's waist to keep himself steady and his chin resting on his brother's shoulder.

"That is hardly what you said last night," Frerin reminds Thorin, his voice low and rather sultry. His lips brush against Thorin's ear, nipping gently at his earlobe.

And then with a hard shove, he pushes his brother off the pony.