It started in Spring, almost a dozen since The Adventure and two since anyone from the Outside had passed through Hobbiton, let alone through the round green door of Bag End (which Bilbo had taken great pains to have re-painted, twice, lest anymore dwarfish feet come along with more dragon related issues). Oh Bilbo grumped about the entire business aloud to himself, on long days when the rooms of his parents smial became too long and too empty, and to small ears who sat before him on his many visits to cousins, whose parents sat nearby and feared their children's wandering feet. But the truth was that he missed it, not the threat of death by warg or troll-snot or more importantly, at the end of a long and very dark tunnel filled with sudden, white-hot flame. Not that. But the companionship. Travelling by pony or by foot with others who shared the same basic fears and trials, the sounds of quiet laughter in the deepest part of night, reassuringly free of the sounds screeching orcs or burning forest or giant spiders.. In short he was lonely.
But Spring. It always brought with it the memories of better days, of hopeful songs and stories as hobbits from all across the eastern and northern regions of the Shire rolled through Hobbiton and Bywater on their way to Tookborough and Michael Delving, their carts laden with goods, from stone samples from Scary to books from the libraries and mathom houses of Buckland. The good folk of the two neighbouring towns would gather, like every Event since the formation of the Shire, and make a festival of the rolling markets with trestle tables heaving with freshly made cakes and plucked strawberries and free-flowing casks of ale.
Bilbo had wandered down early as the visting traders set up their rough and ready stalls to enjoy the smells from the bakery and (hopefully) avoid certain Bagginses who rarely roused themselves before elevenses unless a free meal or the promise of coin or silver cutlery were offered. He thought to himself, as he passed young Hamfast Gamgee and the fair Bell Goodchild, that this year's market was shaping up to be particularly superb when he caught a snippet of the young lovers conversation '- warf of all folk! And look here at this 'lil toy I picked up for my cousins young 'en. And he jus' gives it t' me!'. Bilbo turned on his heel, stepping up to the pair with a smile and a suddenly racing heart.
'Why Master Gamgee, what a fine device you have there!' Hamfast turned and gave Bilbo a respectful nod, Bell bobbing beside him as he held the toy out for his employers inspection. It was a dragon (of course), all wooden with delicate scales inlaid with what, to Bilbo's knowlegable eye, looked suspiciously like Mithril. A small string joined the tail to the body that when pulled moved the wings to flap as if in flight.
'He jus' gave it to me Mister Bilbo, I ain't done wrong with acceptin' have I?' Poor Hamfast was pale with the thought of disapproval, and Bilbo was quick to reassure the pair with a warm smile.
'Of course not lad! It is a fine gift that I'm sure will be greatly enjoyed. Tell me which stand was this you spoke of?' Bilbo was too excited to be embaressed that he'd just outed himself at eaves-dropping, and it seemed Hamfast was too relived to have been let off for commiting his imagined offence, for he pointed to the Bywater bridge with instructions to find the trader just beside The Green Dragon. The subject of the prescence of any dwarves seemed temporarily forgotten.
With a hasty bow and goodbye Bilbo turned for the bridge, his speed increasing until he was fair puffing along the straw strewn lane! There appeared to be quite some crowd around the inn- which was saying something considering it was the largest structure in the area apart from Bag End. And none of those gathered had a tankard between them- instead all very interested in the overlarge cart parked at the inns side, a pair of sturdy bulls tethered nearby. Bilbo skidded at the rear of this huddle, bouncing on his toes to see over the tops of gaffers and young mothers and their tots, only to be disappointed with no sign the taller dwarves. The crowd seemed to show no signs of parting from this spectacle anytime soon so Bilbo backed away.
Stupid fool he told himself with a grimace. Even if it had been dwarves, it was unlikely to be any from Erebor. Certainly none would travel so far to stop at a hobbit village, they would likely pass straight through to the Blue Mountains beyond, with no concern or interest in this land without any real stone or jewel. Certainly none would be carrying shipments of toys to give away. What had he been imagining he would find? Certainly not a be-hatted fellow. With perky braids, warm smile, eyes.. Stop it.
He moved back towards Hobbiton, his enthusiasm for festivities spent. It was just as well, this sort of thing would likely draw Lobelia out of her hole much sooner then a great many would like. He smiled wryly, the thought that the crowd outside the 'Dragon would soon flee her path as if she were a Great Wyrm fleetingly amusing.
His run and the growing heat of the day had quite worn him out as he made his way along Bagshot Row. He could hear Hamfast and Bell in the garden of no. three, clearly at some task or another and just as clearly enjoying each others company. It had been so very long since Bilbo himself had felt a connection that those two had. It had been some time since he had craved that kind of companionship and focus.. But he wasn't badly off for the friendship of others all things considered, though he sometimes dispaired at Drogo's attitude- he was turning into such a, such a Baggins.His steps slowed further as he reached the crest, his nice green door was barely in sight and already he could hear a voice, low and lilting from where he stood. He didn't really want to be dealing with uninvited guests, he might be feeling a bit cheerless but he would negotiate that on his own terms! Besides if it was one of his scavenging relatives..
Renewed determination saw him charging up the hill, through his gate and up the steps without even stopping to look at his would-be "guest".
'No thank you, I don't need any rakes, hoes, books or any will's or deeds re-written today so if you'd kindly-'
'Well that's even less charming then my last visit to your fine home! Though at least this time I ain't the loadstone to a pile of me kin this time'. Bilbo stopped and rocked back on his heels, mouth open like he'd just encountered a wall of glass, the other side of which sat an leather and fur fitted dwarf, great boots parked on an upturned (and thankfully empty) plat pot, smoking at his own leisure. Bilbo's mouth opened and closed like the guppies a faunt might catch in the river, before launching himself at the seated figure with what sounded disturbingly like a laugh and a sob rolled into one very un-hobbit like cry. Bofur only just stood and braced himself for the attack, his delighted cackle echoing down thehill to number three, where the courting couple shared a look of surprise, before dopey smiles returned.
'-and before we knew it he'd grown so heavy he was leaving great big boot prints in the Wack-e-stone! He's already got four poor 'lil buggers carting 'im round, and he's only a-hundred and six! Bifur and I despair at this point, he can't be left alone in Erebors kitchens so I came and Bifur stayed to mind 'im. Oh ta, I've been gasping since we arrived, though that young 'en at your inn there didn't seem to keen to open the doors.' Bilbo grinned (he hadn't stopped since he'd detatched himself, reluctently, from his friends arms), setting the largest tankard he owned before the dwarf. Not five minutes through Bag End's door and Bofur had breezed through his brother Bomburs health and welfare, but hadn't really explained his own prescence or even delivering news of himself. Bilbo found it most un-satisfactory and tried to steer the conversation in his favour.
'But surely you can't mean to be stopping here in the Shire?' Bofur's head snapped up from the plate before him, a flash of hurt across his face disappearing into an easy smile. Bilbo shook his head, confounding his own tongue and reached forward to slide his smaller hand over his companions wrist to stall any response the dwarf could make up. 'I didn't mean it like that, truly. I cannot begin to tell you how, how pleased I am to see you,' he met Bofurs gaze evenly, trying to drive the subtext of his words home, 'I just can't belive you're actually here! I had thought everyone had forgotten about me after Balins visit, I've not heard from any of you.'.
'Ah well, it's not easy getting over the mountain passes when we did, there were more of us and they have gone on ahead with trade and supplies an' the like to Belegost. But with the skills of Dale and the Mountain now growin' at such a pace ole Dain and King Bard felt that we could afford a lil detour? Pick up some trade p'raps?' Bofur smiled, genuine this time, turning his hand to clasp at Bilbo's warm fingers with his own. The hobbit glanced down at this and felt the tips of his ears grow warm with the silly smile playing around his lips. 'I've-a-'bin thinking about you, the closer we got to Staddle and Bree. By the time we'd reached The Prancin' Pony the rest of my party had threatened to knock me out with my own mattock I was so keen to get here!'
Bilbo sighed and stood up to get another plate of scones for them. 'And here I give you the most un-welcoming welcome in Shire history. Destined to repeat myself I suppose.' He turned and deposited the baked goods on the table, but didn't sit back down instead leaning against the counter opposite. 'Bofur, I- our parting, heh if you can call such a thing a parting-'
'Hey now,' Bofurs chair scraped back along the wood, causing Bilbo to wince at the potential damage of his nice, poli- a hand slipped along his jaw, tilting his face upwards gently. 'I understand. I've always understood you Bilbo, and it is to me shame that I never made my feelings about you clear in Lake Town, when we had the chance. Nor after The Battle, after we'd laid poor Thorin and the lads to rest. I've let so many chances slip me by and not a single one of them was your fault, you were always the best o' me- better then me even.'
That also was unacceptable. Bilbo's eyes filled angrily. Anger at those lost chances that neither of them were to blame for. The distance between them, even the nameless fellows of Bofurs that had delayed this reunion by another week. 'I think we've both been very silly, love.' His fingers reached for and tightened in the furred hem of the dwarfs jerkin, pulling him down and forward and he pushed himself up on the tips of his toes once more. The kiss (had they really been waiting almost a decade for this?) was strange, tickly and made Bilbo smile against Bofurs mouth. A puff of air from the dwarfs nose across his cheek reflected his amusement before opening up to him warm and sweet and heady from the ale. They pulled apart reluctently, smiling at each other abashedly until Bilbo pulled one of the larger hands between his own. He didn't say anything as he tugged on the others arm, moving slowly with purpose past the laden table and its cooling food and warming ale, down the hall to the master bedroom and very carefully and with a determined snick closing the door too behind them.