forgottenbrother | OPEN POST

Frerin will get as cheeky as he likes, thank you very much, brother.

Frerin doesn't pay Thorin much mind until his hood is tugged down, at which point a startled yelp and a laugh burst out from his throat.

"Thorin! That's cheating!"

He spurs his own pony on, at least enough to catch up with his brother.

"Nay! Tis not!" He'll call back trying to keep ahead of him. Eventually though his pony does start to tire, she's not quite got the stamina Frerin's has. He tries to lose Frerin in a thicker bit of woods, winding through trees.

He'll outsmart you some how, little brother.

Good luck with that, Thorin. Frerin loves these woods; he knows them as well as he knows Erebor.

Should Thorin glance back, it'll appear that he has indeed lost his brother.

At least until Frerin drops down from an overhead tree branch onto his brother's pony, seated just behind Thorin.

"Miss me, brother?"

Thorin indeed thinks he's outsmarted his brother, a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. At least until the little surprise. That gets a curse from him and his pony almost bucks them off, though Thorin will take care to have her stop. A hand petting along her neck to calm her.

He'll shoot Frerin a look behind him.

"Why would I ever miss such a face?" Who was he kidding, Frerin was certainly handsome, the both of them were a terrible duo with their looks. Along with their sister who was quickly growing into a looker herself, beard and all, they would be a terrible trio soon.

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.

If there was one thing about Frerin that he both simultaneously loved and hated, he was so very touchy. It could drive a young dwarf mad sometimes. Like right now, the way those lips and teeth teased hi--

And then any sort of allure Frerin may have had is instantly ruined as he's shoved off his own pony! He lands with an 'oof', breath knocked out of him. Rolling onto his back he stares up at the ceiling of leaves the trees have created above them, then his gaze goes to Frerin, no doubt having a chuckle at him.

"Come here, little brother, and I shall say many things to you. None close to what I said the night before." He wheezes a bit, sounding rather pathetic. After a few good coughs and finding his breath, Thorin will push himself up and he grabs for Frerin, by the leg, tugging him off the pony next. Frerin meet the ground, ground meet Frerin.

Frerin is laughing so hard he can barely breathe, gasping and pointing at his winded older brother.

Thorin's wheezed threat only makes him laugh harder, and Frerin doubles over, shoulders shaking with laughter.

At least until he feels Thorin's hand on his leg. He only has time for a yelp of protest before he's yanked down too, hitting the ground hard and groaning.

At least now Frerin knows how it feels to be completely winded too?

Their ponies will wander off just slightly, grazing, probably thinking them both mad. Thorin move to lamely flop across his brother, as if to pin him down. Ha. He's won.

Now it's just a bunch of heavy breathing and coughing ala two dwarves.

Finally Thorin speaks, murmured against Frerin's side.

"... that was the worst game of tag."

Frerin chuckles, still catching his breath. His hands instinctively slide into Thorin's hair, coming out tangles with his fingers.

"You only say that...because you lost," he wheezes, giving his brother the best cheeky smile he can muster when he's gasping for air.

"Think what you like!" Thorin huffs, but relaxes where he is. Frerin is cheating by threading fingers into his hair. He knows it. Regarding how Frerin looks rather lovely out of breath and roughed up from their game, he does look away to have a look about where they are.

Not a terrible place to set up camp actually. He'll push himself up, kneeling beside his brother now, a hand resting on Frerin's chest.

"We should make camp, give the ponies a moments rest."

Frerin smiles, content here with his brother. For all their roughhousing, Frerin really does adore and admire Thorin.

He gives Thorin's braid a tug at that last comment though, huffing out a slightly annoyed breath.

"Must we right now, Thorin?"

He'll give Frerin a pinch for that and makes a face at him, trying to look serious.

"Then what would you suggest? If not setting camp, then what else?" Hm?

"You're making that face that Father does," Frerin points out with mild annoyance. He pushes Thorin over, crawling onto his chest.

"Can I not just enjoy my brother's company?"

Oof. You're heavy, Frerin, goodness. Thorin's eyes roll and he'll settle on a looking mildly annoyed by him. Even if he's really not.

"After we set camp." Come now, Frerin, didn't snogging by a warm fire sound good?

He is a growing young dwarf, Thorin. Far better he be heavy and the size he should be. So nyah.

Frerin lets out a heavy sigh and leans over Thorin, giving his lower lip a bite. He lingers there for a moment before sitting up and getting to his feet.

"Fine. Prude."

At the bite, Thorin tries to push up into it, but Frerin is already moving away. He tries to be good and serious first, but Frerin makes it so difficult. He does give a little nudge with his boot to his brother's backside before getting up as well. Setting up camp isn't as terrible as Frerin makes it out to be.

Thorin will start a nice little fire and rolls out his bedroll, furs and all. The ponies are tied to a nearby tree so they can graze and comfortably settle if they wish and Thorin is pleased enough by this. He turns to look for his brother, wondering what help he's been with things.

Frerin grins at the kick, making a face at Thorin.

While Thorin is doing all that, his brother will wander off to find the stream. He knows where it is, of course, but he takes his sweet time in filling up a bucket with fresh water and bringing it back to the camp. That done, the young dwarf climbs into a nearby tree and settles himself there, lazily whittling himself a new arrow.

The sun is setting now and Thorin eventually catches sight of his brother up in a nearby tree. The setting sun through the trees looks lovely on his brother and he'll watch him for a moment.

Until he tosses a pebble at him, hitting just against the side of Frerin's boot.

"Oi, you staying up there all evening?" Come here you big baby. You did want to spend time with Thorin after all, right?

The pebble against his boot makes him glance over at Thorin. Frerin gives his brother a brilliant smile and tucks his knife away, climbing down from the tree and setting his half-finished arrow beside his abandoned pack.

"Have something particular in mind, brother dear?"

Glad to have his brother down on the ground with him now, he'll cross his arms over his chest, shrugging.

"Dinner, if you were hungry." Dried meats and what not. Some mead. Good dwarf dinner!

"Though why must you climb trees like some elf?" Thorin says with a wrinkle of his nose. It's so very undwarf like, Frerin.

"Dinner sounds excellent." Frerin shrugs, walking over to join his brother by the fire. The second statement, however, gets a scowl.

"I am not like an elf, Thorin," he huffs. Thorin gets a hard shove.

Sitting, Thorin grabs for their packs, not before he's shoved by Frerin. Taking a bottle of mead from his pack he'll give him a look, pulling the cork from it and drinking a swig.

"You use a bow and climb trees like one." He's teasing him, but he hardly sounds it. Poking fun at his brother was too easy at times.

"Well..." Frerin struggles to find a comeback. "Your ears are pointy like an elf's."

Not his best, but it'll have to do for now. The truth is, comparisons to elves bother Frerin far more than he lets on. He knows he's not like the other dwarves. He embarrassed himself already by dropping a warhammer on his foot because it was too heavy for him to hold. It had been several years since that incident, but it still stung.

Even Dis was a better dwarf than he.

Frerin please. Sighing, he pushes the opened bottle against Frerin's chest willing him to drink.

"One day you will have to teach me how to shoot as good as you." He's saying he approves, he just likes teasing you. It's what brothers do after all. Really he thinks his brother is very talented. He's quick on the draw and can hit most anything with his bow, rarely did he miss. It was amazing to watch.

Frerin takes the bottle gratefully, tilting his head back as he takes a swig. The prominent blue eyes of the Durin line shine out of his face with gratitude that Thorin understands.

"A clumsy oaf like you?" Frerin will tease right back, his confidence restored by that one remark. "I hardly think you would be any use with a bow."

But Thorin saying Frerin would have to teach him...that means a lot. It truly does.

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