Disclaimer - I own nothing but the idea behind the story.
Bofur had been all over, traveling from one settlement of Men to another. He'd seen many things and had become used to the world. He didn't see much wonder in it at all anymore, hadn't in most things from the beginning. Oh, he enjoyed life, enjoyed it well, but there just wasn't anything so magnificent to look upon. People were where wonder rested, and most people weren't at all wonderful.
When he'd come to the Shire, plodding along with his cousin and brother and some of the others, he'd felt a tiny spark of it, of wonder. The rolling green hills, peaceful atmosphere, and the fresh clean scent of the place; it was like they'd walked into a bubble set apart from the rest of the world. And the people, they were something to behold, gentle and naïve, and oh so suspicious. But the spark came and went and nothing was to be made of it. Nothing stood out and took his breath away.
Nothing until he met their host and saw him bustle around with a flush of indignation on his cheeks and a furrow of confusion on his brow. His little curls bounced as he raced about, and he was the cutest thing Bofur had ever seen; the dwarf was certain of it. And the way he'd get all indignant and huffy when teased… Oh, Bofur knew he could very well describe Bilbo Baggins as wonderful, even at the start.
Once they were on the road, though, he never ceased to marvel at the way Bilbo would be wowed by almost everything they saw; even the seemingly mundane was new and spectacular to the little hobbit. His eyes would light up, and with them his entire face, as he smiled and took in everything around him. As much as Bilbo hated traveling and trudging through the wilderness, missed the comforts of hearth and home, he delighted in the plants and scenery all around him.
To Bilbo, all of Middle Earth was a wonder, a vast and exciting place full of marvels and beauty, from a teeny weed along the road to a centuries old tree growing thick and tall beyond measure above their heads. Bofur hated that, eventually, the shine would tarnish and Bilbo would see the truth of the world, the dirty, ugly, horrific truth that beauty was only on the surface. Hate and greed and danger were right underneath, waiting to break the hobbit's spirit and his joy. The toymaker would give anything to spare him, but he knew that he could not.
And so, one night and into morning, in the form of three mountain trolls and a band of orc and warg, it happened. The cruelty of the world was shoved so painfully into Bilbo's face, driven into him so utterly completely that Bofur was afraid to see how the little one would take it. He vowed to pull Bilbo close at the first opportunity and assure him, of what he wasn't sure, but he'd assure him nonetheless. The reality had to be so much worse than the jest he'd done at Bag End, to the point of causing the hobbit to faint. And though nothing could really make it right again, he would try. For Bilbo, anything.
Safe in Rivendell, Bofur went to him, pulled him aside to make sure for himself that the hobbit was well. The smile he received, beaming and bright and oh so full of wonder, assured him that all was well. "Isn't this place magnificent?" Bilbo asked him in hushed awe. "I've never seen the like, and the elves!" He grinned as he put a hand on Bofur's arm and gave a small squeeze in his excitement.
Bofur blinked at him then pulled Bilbo into a crushing hug that startled the hobbit, given the squeak he issued. After the trauma, the horror of the flight, Bilbo was still Bilbo, and he'd not lost sight of the wonder in the world. "Aye, laddie, it's something," he breathed into the hobbit's soft curls. He could only hope the rest of the quest didn't change how Bilbo saw the world.
Bilbo relaxed against him and patted his back, making a soothing murmur into his chest. It was only then that Bofur realized he was actually crying softly. "Never change, laddie." He pulled back and looked down at Bilbo. "Promise me, you won't stop seeing the world as you do."
The hobbit looked up at him, face twisted in that cute confused way he had. "Why would I ever see the world as anything but magnificent?"
Bofur laughed and gave him another crushing hug, resting his forehead to Bilbo's. Why indeed.
Maybe the magnificence of the world was lost to Bofur, but he could have a piece of it, through Bilbo. Bilbo could be his wonder, and he was fine with that.