(Surprised there are not tags for me to give for this but, obviously this is Bilbo/Bofur fanfic...for now since it's the first chapter. I do hope some come to enjoy it. As I started writing it, A whole slew of original characters came to mind and sine I have started writing a 'prequel' of sorts. Don't worry though, it won't all be murder, darkness, etc. I do plan on uploading other things.)

For a year they had lived the best they cold. Supporting each other's fears and relieving their anxieties with celebrations amongst beloved friends and of course, late at night with whispers and heated touches.

As he sat this morning, on the bench just outside the front door of Bag End, Bofur silently admitted that his partner's loyalty still bewildered him.

Two years of waiting and Bilbo Baggins still held within the deepest part of his heart, an unbreakable passion for him.

Bofur let the soft smile spread from his lips and rest in his eyes in a sparkle few would scarcely understand.

This was, Bofur admitted, the best time of his life.

Though He still ached in his heart for his dear brother Bombur and cousin Bifur; it was hard saying farewell to them after Dain Ironfoot had graciously relieved him of his duties and finally allowed him to take the long journey back to Bilbo.

Bofur couldn't help but chuckle when he recalled how Bifur, frustrated at his cousin's indecision, signed feverishly:

Go to him you silly knot head!

So he did. Even amongst the curious stares and whispered gossip; He'd come to live in nothing but joy and peace for the past year.

Sighing he lifted his head and opened his eyes; almost instantly his tongue cleaved to the top of mouth and he stifled a sharp gasp.

His eyes spied it in the distance and an icy sensation filled his gut. He looked over his shoulder at the front door of the Hobbit hole.

Bilbo always prepared extravagant meals and judging by the smell of cooking bacon and the faint clanging of cookware, Bofur had a good twenty to twenty-five minutes before the hobbit would come to the door and call him in.

Clearing his throat and dropping the pipe he'd just started to fill with pipe weed, Bofur leapt up and began a quick sprint toward the tree in the distance.

'Please,' He thought as he jogged, catching the curious attention of one of Bilbo's neighbors, 'Don't let it be now! Just a little while longer…just let there be a bit more peace in my life!'

Reaching the tree, seeing the fabric tied delicately to one of its highest branches, Bofur felt his gut lurch and he thought he would vomit.

Catching his breath he observed the message quietly, trying to control his racing thoughts. There, swaying in a delicate breeze was the whole of his life; and the threat it was all about to end.

Surveying the tree and the fabric for a moment more, Bofur climbed the tree carefully before he delicately untied it and stored it in his vest pocket.

Taking a deep breath he climbed back down hurried back to Bag End and retook his seat on the bench. He picked up his pipe and lit it; after finishing he emptied the ash into the grass.

He heard the door to Bag End creak open. "Bofur, breakfast is ready," He heard Bilbo call, and he rose to face him.

'It's goin' to be alright,' He thought, 'Everything…He is goin' to be alright.'

The breakfast, as it always was, was hearty and pleasing. Bacon, eggs, toast with butter and jam, orange juice and milk. Bilbo never ceased to keep Bofur well fed and satisfied.

However, his plate was mostly untouched, and His companion noticed even before he'd gone to clear the table.

"You usually eat the bacon first," Bilbo explained coming to sit next to Bofur, "You haven't even touched it. And you usually don't start with orange juice."

Bofur smirked dryly; "Aye. Ye have come to know my habits quite well Bilbo."

The hobbit reached out and took Bofur's large hand; enjoying the feel of the warm fingers that entwined with his own.

"What is the matter?" Bilbo asked after a moment, as Bofur's hand slid down and came to grasp his wrist gently.

"I…er…don't worry over this but…I'd like to send word to Nori. I've been…homesick as of late. And I want to visit with him; with yer consent o'course."

Bilbo studied Bofur's face deeply for a moment, his free hand coming and pushing strands of loose hair from the dwarf's face.

"Would you not also like to send word to Bombur or Bifur perhaps?" He asked, smiling as Bofur easily nuzzled the hobbits hand lovingly.

"Ach!" Bofur exclaimed with a laugh, "I would but ye know the circumstances. Bombur's busy with a wife and children. And Bifur is getting' older. I'd rather he stay at home and live an easy life with no interruption."

Bilbo nodded in comprehension. "Very well," He said at last, "Send word to Nori. I'm sure he'd also be glad to see you."

Bofur smiled softly again and leaned forward. Engaging Bilbo in soft, lingering kiss before releasing his wrist and allowing his partner to rise and begin to clear the table.

Helping him, the two cleaned up the day's first meal in peaceful silence until Bilbo began preparing a tub to wash the dishes.

"You'd better be off then to the post office," Bilbo advised, "If you wait too long, there will be a line and I know how you hate to wait."

Bofur set some glasses down on the counter and gave a nod. "Alright then," He agreed, leaning close and giving Bilbo a quick peck on the side of his head.

Though he was most glad and accustomed to exchanging a few hearty hellos and superficial chats with several of the Shire folk, this mid-morning, Bofur offered only a quick wave and friendly nod.

Reaching the post office, the dwarf was relieved to see that there were only two ahead of him. An elderly gentleman with a parcel and a younger hobbit with a single envelope held limply in his right hand.

After the younger hobbit fulfilled his purpose, Bofur stepped forward and offered one of his trademark smiles; something Bilbo had told him shortly after his arrival, had won him some praise amongst the curious citizens of the peaceful society.

"Mornin!" Bofur offered, "I wish to send a message to the kingdom of Erebor, care of me brother Bombur please."

The post master, an aged hobbit eyed Bofur through thick spectacles. "Master Bofur!" The hobbit exclaimed with a laugh, "I could never forget that wonderful voice of yours! Yes! Yes of course, right away!"

In no time Bofur was given a piece of parchment, a quill, and small jar of ink. He wasted no time in penning the message in a language only he and his kin fully understood.

"Nori,

I think it's the right time for a good chat. Do bring the good wine and the bouquet of flowers if their right for this season. I think you'll like the shire in the spring. The oak trees are looking quite fine.

Bo"

Carefully Bofur folded the message, gave the right destination, and bid farewell to the friendly hobbit that hurried to take care that that Bofur's request was fulfilled.

"Do tell Master Baggins that the missus and I quite enjoyed dinner with the two of you on Thursday and would love to do it again!" The post master called after him.

Bofur said nothing and made no gesture that he'd heard the kind old Halfling's words. For his mind lay open and heavy upon him.

What if he had faltered and all his preparations had long been destroyed before his discovery amongst the tree branches this morning?

Shuddering, Bofur decided to return to Bag End. To Bilbo and the peace and security he'd known for only a year. One year out of so much time of hardship and despair.

As he walked the same path that had taken him to the post office, His mind thought of one person in particular.

The hideous face coming to the front of his minds eye; complete with the haunting, sadistic grin.

A foul taste filled his mouth and Bofur let slip a curse in Khuzdul.

'Monster.'