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“Are you sure about this, Fíli?”
“Aren’t you sure about this?”
“No, I am,” said Kíli, kicking at his brother’s shin. “I just wanted to make sure you were.”
“Well I am.” Fíli kicked back, but Kíli jumped out of the way.
Kíli stuck his tongue out at his brother, then dived in for another swiped at Fíli’s shin. “Well good.”
Fíli took the hit to his shin so he could tackle his brother to the ground. “Fine,” he said, rubbing his stubbly chin against Kíli’s forehead as he struggled.
Kíli squealed and squirmed, then abruptly stilled and said, “Why’s it got to be a goat?”
Fíli rolled off Kíli and onto the ground behind their house. “Because I said.” His words are laced with Big Brother authority. “And because the sheep are still out at pasture and only Master Hewet’s billy goat is still in the stables.”
Kíli considered this. “But it’s brown.”
Fíli rubbed at his chin, wondering how long it would be until it grew into a beard at last. “Hm?”
“The billy goat,” repeated Kíli. “It’s brown.”
“Then we’ll have to use a lot of dye,” decided Fíli after some consideration.
“Still red dye?”
“Of course.”
Kíli pondered the intricacies of their plan a while longer. Fíli kept an ear out for the midday bells, when the dye vats would be unguarded.
“And then we chase it?” piped up Kíli again.
“Yes.”
“Down the street?”
“Yes, Kíli.”
“To the cloth vender’s stall?”
Fíli ruffled his brother’s hair. His bangs were growing out again, but every time their mother came at him with braid clasps or scissors, Kíli ran away screaming bloody murder. “Right all over everything.”
The vender – the only one in the small town – had been constantly hiking his prices up every time their mother went to haggle with him. The vendor’s prices for dwarves, their uncle had found out, were now double that he asked from men. The prices were now so steep that just that morning Fíli found his mother sowing patches of worn cloth to Kíli’s trousers in the hopes of making them last a little longer. The trousers had once been Fíli’s, so they were in poor shape to begin with, and fell high above Kíli’s ankles already.
Kíli did not know any of this. He just thought this was a bit of mischief his brother had cooked up to while away the slow summer day.
The bells tolled out noontime and Fíli stood up, tugging Kíli up after him. “Come on, Kíli. You remember the plan, right?”
Kíli nodded, then tugged at Fíli’s sleeve. “Can I use a broomstick? To chase the billy goat? Only it’ll be all wet and red – or red and brown . What’s red and brown make?”
“Good idea, Kíli.” Fíli ruffled his brother’s hair, and with that, the two ran off to the stables to borrow Master Hewet’s goat.