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“Kíli?” his brother called, as the young, dark-haired dwarf concentrated on chopping up an apple for his little cousin.
“Yes, brother?” he asked, turning with the bowl clutched in his hands.
“Where’s Frodo?” He looked down; the little boy was no longer in his chair.
Damn.
(Or: Kíli and Fíli are given a task even more difficult than slaying a dragon: babysitting their one-and-a-half-year-old cousin Frodo.)