A/N: Before I forget, like I did with the last chapter, I'm getting Bifur's Khuzdul words from two different online dictionaries as well as having to make some up. Also, I use both the book and movie(s) as references in this fanfic, though it's mostly book.
Chapter TwoIt was the smell of bacon that woke him up.
Bofur had been fast asleep, having a pleasant dream of drinking hearty dwarven ale in his home back in Erebor. But, for the life of him, he was not able to figure out where the smell of cooking meats was coming from. He had gotten up from his stool and looked all over his home –in the kitchen, in the parlor, upstairs in his room, the bathroom even! And still, he could not find the source of that smell!
And then, his stomach rumbled quite loudly.
His eyes opened and he found himself facing an unfamiliar ceiling. He bolted upright, temporarily forgetting where he was until he looked around. Across from him, Bifur was fast asleep, half in the bed, half out. Remembering that he was in an inn, he let out a relieved sigh and let himself flop backwards again.
'That's right,' he thought to himself, 'we're at an inn.'
It was then that he realized the source of the smell was coming from somewhere close by. Sniffing the air, he rolled onto his side and leaned over the edge of the bed. The smell was getting stronger…
'Must be over the kitchen,' he thought with a small grin. Putting his hands on the floor below, he crawled out of the bed and pressed his ear to the floorboards, having to flick his braid out of the way. Through the wood, he was able to hear the faint sizzling of meat and muffled voices. One of them was that of a man, the other, a girl. 'Maybe the inn-owner and that Miss Baylee?' he thought, his brow rising.
"Kulhu-zu salab?"
He looked up, startled to find Bifur's face less than three inches from his. How he had not heard his cousin slip out of bed, he would never know. "Uh…just doin' some mornin' stretching is all," he lied. "Y'know, so I have more room in my belly for breakfast!"
Bifur's brow rose. "Mâ ashafukh tada…" he mused, standing upright.
Bofur stood up as well, brushing himself off. Not that there was any dirt on him to begin with; the floors were quite clean. "Of course you doubt me," he said. "You've never done it. You don't know how much more food I can take in because of these stretches I do." He started to pull on his tunic and trousers over his underclothes. "Now, how did you sleep?"
"Mâ sanuhurun gamut," he replied, also starting to get dressed. "Zu?"
"Slept rather decently myself," he replied, tying his trousers into place.
Bifur pulled his trousers on and yawned. "Bizarûn torv mudùmul mabar."
"That they do," he chuckled, sitting down and tugging on his boots. "I think Ori's right in wantin' t' buy one. After all, we don't have the softest straw or geese around in Erebor. Sleepin' on piles o' furs an' rocks gets rough after five years." He started to tie the laces of his tunic and yawned.
Bifur shrugged as he tugged his own tunic on over his head, wincing slightly as it got caught on his axe. "Mukhuh khi khund fulz sejêr arm ze ür nu?" he asked.
"Maybe. I'm sure if we showed enough raw gold t' anyone, we can easily trade." He pulled on his jacket before grabbing his hat and putting it onto his head. Glancing at Bifur, he found that the other dwarf was just tugging on his right boot before standing up. "Nult deraz," he grinned, watching Bifur brighten as he spoke in the ancient tongue.
Bofur led him out of their room and down the short hallway. The smell of food was stronger now; they was able to smell the warm, yeasty scent of bread baking and they could hear the sound of eggs sizzling away. When they came to the landing, both dwarves stood on their tiptoes as they peered over the railing at the common room below. Dori, Nori, and Ori were already awake and sitting at the same table as the night before. Only two humans were in the room, one of them being the blonde waitress. The other was the young lad from the stables.
"Well, looks like they haven't started without us," he chuckled. He nodded his head at the stairs and they hurried down them. If anyone had seen them coming down, they would have thought them children if it weren't for their beards (and the axe in Bifur's head, of course).
"There's the two sleepyheads," Nori said, looking up as Bifur and Bofur took their places at the table.
"We were starting to wonder if you two were ever goin' to wake up or if we were going to have to send Ori up there to wake you," Dori grinned. He took a drink from something in a small, clay cup –tea, Bofur supposed, since it was steaming- before leaning back in his seat. "I already ordered our meal," he told them. "Fried eggs, sausage, bacon, biscuits –the usual."
Starting to comb his fingers through his beard, Bifur gave him a small nod. "Dolzekh menu."
Bofur yawned again, leaning back a little bit on his stool. Admittedly, he could have slept another hour or so, but that was probably the beer from last night talking. Hearing the creak of unoiled hinges, he turned, seeing Baylee leaving the kitchen with two heaping trays of food in hand. As she walked towards them, he noticed that she didn't seem to have any problem carrying the platters, as heavy as they must have been.
"I see the other two masters are up now," she chuckled, using her foot to tug a stool over. She set one of the platters down on it before starting to deal out the dishes on the other. "Would either o' ya like some tea or cider with your breakfast?" She set a large plate of eggs, bacon, and toast in front of Dori while another plate of scrambled eggs, sausage, ham, and biscuits was set in front of Nori. Ori got himself a large bowl of porridge, a smaller bowl of honey, and a small pitcher of cream put in front of him along with a little plate of two fried eggs.
"Tea for me, please," Bofur said, "an' some for him, too, please."
"Alright," she smiled. She lifted a plate from the other tray; it had sausages, biscuits, gravy, and ham was set in front of him. "This one ya said goes t'…" She looked at Dori then between Bifur and Bofur. "Bi…fur?" She moved it slightly towards Bofur.
"The other one, lass," Dori chuckled, already holding his knife and fork.
She turned pinked and smiled apologetically. "Ah, that's right. Sorry lad!" She set the plate in front of Bifur who said a hurried thank-you in Khuzdul before digging in. "So tha' leaves Bofur," she smiled, setting his plate in front of him. He was more than pleased to see that he had bacon, fried eggs, biscuits slathered in gravy, and a slice of ham. Taking both platters, she looked at the table of content dwarves. "So, you lot then are Dori, Nori, Ori, Bifur, and Bofur then?" she asked, pointing to each of them.
"It's alright if you get a few o' us confused," Ori said, pouring some cream into his porridge. "Most folk do for awhile." He spoke with a reassuring smile, reaching for his honey.
She let out a small laugh. "Ah, I think I'll have ya names down by t'night. I'm a fast learner when it comes t' names. Helps when you've so many customers a day –as ya lads saw last night. Now, give a moment an' I'll have your tea an' scones out here." She moved to head back into the kitchen.
"Scones?" Bofur grinned, looking at Dori. "My, my –isn't that fancy o' you, Master Dori?" he joked.
Dori's brow rose as he glanced at the younger dwarf. "They were recommended to us last night, after you three tucked in. An older gentleman said they've the best scones in the whole of Dale here." He lightly shrugged, taking a bite out of a piece of toast.
"But, from what they were sayin'," Nori added, "they eat here every day. So, they're probably a bit biased."
"Either way, it's been an awfully long time since I last had a scone," Bofur grinned, using his fork to cut one of his fried eggs in half. As the yolk oozed out, he swirled a bite of gravy-covered biscuit in it before popping it in his mouth. "Not since Mr. Bilbo's home at the least," he said through a full mouth.
Ori scrunched his nose up slightly as Bofur unknowing sprayed some crumbs into his porridge. "Mr. Bilbo had some mighty tasty food," he said, delicately picking out as many of the crumbs as he could. "I wonder if all hobbits do?"
"We could go back and visit him someday," Nori said with a small shrug. "After all, he told us that tea is at four o'clock sharp an' there's no need to knock."
Dori nodded, smiling. "That he did. We may take him up on that someday…I hope the wee lad is doing alright. He and Master Gandalf had left in quite a hurry."
"Hî ku churf ghürfunm," said Bifur in a rather matter-of-fact tone. As he spoke, he moved his hands about, motioning to his heart as well his stomach. "Zithim kïk…"
"Aye, he was homesick," Bofur agreed, nodding. This time, he didn't spray Ori's porridge with crumbs, for Ori used his hands to shield the bowl. "But! He got t' leave with a mighty bit o' treasure, now didn't he lads?"
They nodded in agreement as Baylee returned. She set a large teapot down on the table along with a heaping platter of scones, some bowls of clotted cream, honey, and butter. "There ya go," she said. "Anythin' else before I pop off for me own food?"
"This should be good enough for now, lass," Dori smiled. "Thank you."
She gave a small nod before leaving them be and heading into the kitchen. A quiet sigh escaped her mouth as she walked over to the oven. She yawned as she opened a small latch and peering inside. Grinning as she saw a dozen or so loaves of bread baking within, she noted that they still had a ways to go before they were done.
'Good. Galiene will be in soon so she can fetch them if more customers come in,' she thought, closing the latch and moving to the hearth. A pot of porridge was sitting near the coals, staying warm. From this, she filled herself up a bowl, adding in some cream and honey. It was as she was grabbing herself a scone and a mug of cider that heard the first round of loud laughter coming from the common room. 'What is so funny this early in the morning?' she thought, raising her brow.
As she left the kitchen, she saw her answer: The dwarves were tossing their food back and forth, using both their hands and mouths to catch whatever was thrown at them. She tilted her head curiously; Bofur called out to Dori, who sat the farthest away from him. Plucking up a link of sausage, Dori tossed it to him and Bofur leaned forward, intending to catch it in his mouth –however, Bifur snatched it in midair and popped it into his mouth. The others burst into laughter while Bofur used the flat of his knife to thwack his cousin.
"Stealin' my sausages again, are you?" he lightly scolded.
"Ah, you wouldn't have caught it anyway," Nori snorted. "Bombur was always the one who could catch food in his mouth."
"Doesn't mean I can't catch food, either! C'mon, Dori –try it again!"
Baylee chuckled to herself, shaking her head as she went to eat by one of the windows. Her father had always told her that dwarves were an odd bunch to be around and he should know –when he was younger, he was apprenticed to one of the last dwarves in Laketown as a blacksmith. Now that Erebor and Dale were being restored, she wondered if more dwarves would be coming to the city and to stay at their inn. She wouldn't mind the business; from what she had seen so far, the dwarves were more polite than half the human customers…
"Baylee, lass!"
She jumped slightly as her father's large hand clapped down on her shoulder. "Hello, papa," she said, looking up at him. Through his bushy beard, she could see a smile on his lips. "What do you need?"
"I need for you t' go to the market later," he said, sitting in the chair across from her. "Tell ol' Bert that we'll need some of his meat. He'll be paid upon delivery, like usual."
She nodded, spooning the porridge into her mouth.
"And I also need ya t' visit the market for herbs," he continued. "I'd send Wenna, but she's on linen duty today."
Baylee stuck her tongue out. "Linen duty is the worst," she murmured. Her father quietly laughed and her cheeks turned pink. "Sorry."
"No, no…it's alright," he said, reaching over and ruffling her hair. "One last thing before I forget."
"Hm?" She glanced up, her spoon hanging out of her mouth.
He pointed an accusing finger at her and gave her a rather fatherly look. "That overdress o' yours. It's holey, stained, an' over all, nothin' but scrap cloth now. I want ya t' go t' the seamstress an' get yourself fitted for a new one."
At that, a small pout came to her lips. "Papa, this one works just fine. It's held up rather well for bein' five years old!"
"Baylee…it's got stains from the War on it," he said, his voice quieter. "I think it's time t' give it up."
She looked down at the yellow garment she wore over her clothing. When she had first got it from her mother, it had been as bright as a sunflower but, with time, it had become faded to a sort of dirty cream color. It did not help that there were splotches of red and black in places; stains that most people thought were spilt wine or soot from the hearths. "I'm still goin' t' keep it," she told him, her eyes glancing up at him.
"I know ya will," he said with an understanding smile. "It's just startin' t' not look so nice, 'Lee. A new one will do ya good. In fact…" He leaned over, pulling a satchel of coins from his belt and tossing it across the table to her. "There. Get yourself two. Or one an' a new dress or somethin'."
There was a shout from the table of dwarves and Baylee watched as a too-enthusiastically-thrown scone arched its way through the air, accidentally aimed right at the back of her father's head. She lurched forward, a yelp rising in her own throat, but before it could leave her mouth, Warren lifted his hand, catching the scone an inch from his scalp. A broad grin came to his lips as he turned around, holding the food up for the dwarves to see and giving them a small nod.
"Thanks, lads," he said, taking a bite out of it. The dwarves stared at him for a moment, their expressions mixtures of shock and horror. After that (very short) moment passed, however, they burst out laughing, giving him applause for his marvelous catch. Seeing the confused look on his daughter's face, he chuckled. "You learn a thing or two when apprenticed to a dwarf for fifteen years. An' it helps I saw it comin' in the window's reflection." He playfully winked at her.
"Ahh," she said, smiling. "Anythin' else I should know, since I'll be waitin' on those five for a week?" Lifting her mug, she drained half the contents of it.
He scratched his chin, crumbs falling out of his beard. "Y'know…I think it's best for you t' find out on your own, lass," he said after some minutes. He popped the rest of the scone in his mouth.
Baylee's brow rose. That answer, she knew, meant that she was in for a fair bit of hard work. "I don't like the sounds of that," she told him, her tone dry.
Laughing, Warren put his hands on his knees and looked at her. "I'll tell ya this much, 'Lee: Dwarves like t' have fun, as ya can see behind me. Sometimes, their fun can be at the expense of others, but it's never meant in harm. Only for the laughs." Standing up, he ruffled her hair again. "Have a good day in the market, eh? An' don't be spendin' all that coin in one place, aye?"
"I won't," she chuckled warily, setting her spoon down so she could flatten her hair. She was thankful she hadn't yet braided it that morning. Watching her father walk into the kitchen, she ate her own scone and looked over at the dwarves to find them filling their teacups to the brim. Suddenly, they all lifted the cups and began guzzling down their tea. At the same time, they delicately set their teacups down on the table before each letting out a loud belch.
Bifur noticed her staring and smiled in a friendly fashion. He called out to her in Khuzdul and raised his teacup approvingly, his hand smacking against the outside of his forearm a couple of times. The others turned, looking at her, their expressions matching his.
"He says that this is some of the best tea he's ever had, miss!" Ori chirped as his companions tossed and rolled their dishes to Dori. This act she had seen last night; they were making it easier for her to gather them up later.
"Th-thank you," she said with an awkward smile. "It's from Dorwinion." She moved to dunk her scone into her porridge, scooping some of it up as she took a bite. The floorboards creaked and she looked up in time to see Bofur approaching her.
"Er, I know you're in the middle o' eatin' your breakfast 'n all, miss," he said, smiling apologetically, "but we were wonderin' if'n you or your father, perhaps, knew any folk in the market that would be willin' t' deal with dwarves?" he asked her.
"Uh, well…I know that a fair few o' the folk would love to," she told him. "But a lot o' them are also cheapskates an' would try t' cheat you lads. What sort of items are you lookin' t' buy or sell?"
"Well, we've got gold an' jewels that'd we like to trade for food," he explained. "You know, like meat, fruits, vegetables…that sort of thing. We dwarves can cook rather well, but we're lost on farmin', especially since we live in the mountains."
She nodded in understanding. "Well, for stuff like that, you'll want t' talk t' me father. I'll go get him for ya." She got up, grabbing both her bowl and the satchel of money.
"Thank you, miss," he said, going to wait with the other dwarves.
As she entered the kitchen, Baylee spotted her father cramming half a sausage in his mouth as he was hunched in front of the fire. Leaning over, she could see that he was frying himself some eggs. She raised her brow and shook her head. "I hope you're chewing."
He glanced over at her. "Of course I am," he said, though it came out sounding more like 'Off corff aw am'. He finished chewing and swallowed the sausage, giving his pan a small shake so that the eggs would not stick to the metal.
"The dwarves would like t' talk t' ya when you're free," she told him. "They're lookin' t' make connections in the market." She dunked her bowl into a large bucket before moving to finish drinking her cider.
"Really?" Warren asked. Baylee thought she could hear a note of enthusiasm in his voice. Looking back to his eggs, he winced as his forehead smacked into one of the cast iron pans that hung from the wall. Grumbling to himself, he used a spatula to get them out of the pan and onto his plate. "Well, then…I'll have t' see what I can do for 'em," he mused. "Are ya goin' t' the market right now?"
"Aye. I figure I may as well get everythin' done before the supper rush." She scrunched her nose up slightly as her father reached over and mussed her hair up yet again.
"Then ya best get out there, lassie," he chuckled. "An' if you see the lads from Dorwinion –tell them t' get their hindquarters over here as fast as they can!"
Untying her apron, Baylee nodded. "Will do, papa," she grinned. Tossing it onto a counter, she left the kitchen and entered the inn yard. Across from her, she could see the walls of the stables and could hear one of their occupants whinnying. 'Must be penned up away from its friend,' she thought with a quiet laugh, passing by the brick portion of the stables. Her father had converted that portion into a small smithy for himself when they had rebuilt the place.
It was a ten minute walk to the market. From there, it was another five minutes until she reached Bert the Butcher. She pushed open door and peeked inside; it was a dark place, but it was clean and tidy. Stepping in, she could smell the metallic tang of blood coming from the back room and she mentally cringed. The butcher's was not her most favorite place to be.
"Mr. Bert? Are ya in today?" she called, her voice a bit on the shy side. She could hear some movement in the back before a middle-aged man came in through the half-door. He smiled at her as he removed his apron, hanging it on a hook somewhere in the other room.
"Ah, Miss Baylee!" he called, wiping his hands on a towel. "What can I do for ya this mornin'?"
"Papa sent me t' make his usual order with ya," she timidly said. "He says payment will be given on delivery like normal."
The man nodded. "Aye, alright lassie," he smiled. "I'll have his order t' him by the end of the day. Anythin' else for ya, lassie?"
She glanced around, seeing ropes of sausages, some smoked and others freshly made, hanging from rows of hooks in the corner. "Do ya have any of that smoked elk sausage o' yours?" she asked.
He grinned, walking to the very last row of hooks, which looked empty from where Baylee stood. From it, he removed the final two links. "You've good timing, lassie. These are my last ones until my son comes back from hunting." He held them out to her. "Two coppers."
Her brow rose. "Just two? Normally, it's three a link."
Bert shrugged. "They're a couple days older than what I'd normally like t' sell them," he told her. "And your father is a good friend, so, just two," he explained. "Have a good day, lass," he said to her as she put the coins into his palm.
"Thank you," she chirped. "You too!" She left the shop, thankful for the fresh air.
"Aye, this shop looks like it'll do the trick," Bofur said as he and Bifur walked around an empty building. From the outside, it did not look like much. From the inside, it looked even less impressive; no one had bothered to clean it up after Smaug's first appearance. It was this seemingly ruined place that the two of them had bought just that morning without looking at it, only a rough outline of its structure.
Bifur did not seem as impressed with their haphazard purchase as his cousin. "Zaharala hadhidh irmish aslôn nîd…" he said, pushing against one of the walls. He was thankful that it was far more solid than it looked. "Kulhu zu mâ ughlekh khi uhudûd uanak?" He glanced over at Bofur, his hands clenching into fists before he pressed them together.
"Aye, of course we can fix it! We're dwarrows! Especially if we enlist Dori, Nori, and Ori t' help us!" he beamed. "Look-" He walked over to one of the walls near the door. "We'll knock this out and put in a big window so we can display our toys! The children will flock to us!"
Shaking his head, Bifur kicked a piece of plaster across the floor. "Kheled naruk ghivesh zu katûb juzr?" He did not like the thought of spending even more money into a place that may not do as well as his cousin hoped…
Bofur nodded, his hands on his hips as he looked around. "But everythin' else will be relatively cheap an' easy t' make. Just think, Bifur-" He motioned to the rest of the walls. "We can have shelves all around filled to the brim with toys! Leave the floor nice and open so the wee lads an' lasses can bounce about and not break anything. We could even sell some sweets if we get enough people interested in us." Then, grabbing Bifur's arm, he tugged him out into the busy street, pointing to an area above the door. "Imagine it, Bifur and Bofur: Toymakers Extraordinaire! People will come from all over t' buy our toys."
Bifur's furry brow rose and he looked at Bofur. His cousin was grinned broadly as he stared up at the wall, his eyes filled with wonder and hope. Their shop back in the Blue Mountains had done rather well for the amount of people around, though he wasn't so sure how they would do in Dale…Regardless, his cousin's hope was more than a bit infectious and he smiled, nodding.
"Gholizur umeze khi dágir," he said at last, bumping his fists together once more.
Bofur grinned, pulling him back into the shop, kicking aside some plaster. "We need a broom," he thought aloud. "Maybe a shovel…" He walked into the next room, which could possibly become their work room; it led into a third room that had once been a kitchen, the fireplace that still had the remains of its last fire in it.
Heading up the stairs, he felt that the steps, though old and creaky, were still as strong as ever. "Nice open area up here," he called down. Unlike the first floor, the second only had two rooms. Inspecting both, Bofur was more than pleased to find that each had windows facing out over the city.
"Gur yothurur burûj gagin?" Bifur called up.
"Three!" he called down. He started up the staircase again, making for the third floor, which, he found out, wasn't really a floor so much as a covered balcony. At the top of the stairs, there was a frail door that led into the open air. The floor was tiled with clay squares, their paint long faded. Some were intact, but most were cracked and uneven from age and weather. "Hmm. This will take a bit of time t' fix up," he murmured. "We've got plenty of it, though…"
Turning, he went back down the stairs just in time to see Bifur reaching the second floor. The other dwarf was walking around, banging his fist against the walls to see how study they were.
"Now that's just silly," he thought aloud.
Bifur looked at him, confused. "Mê tuks zahar aslôn nîd band!" He stamped on the floor before listening to hear if anything fell off on the floor below. Neither one could hear a thing. He nodded approvingly and lightly kicked the wall. "Zaharala ók u-uzgák khiz kheluz sûthick –sûthick!- mâ agùthôl ur-líg felá zakíl ra sek bacarack." As he spoke, he waved his hands about, signing different things to his cousin.
"Some mew plaster would do it good, that's for sure." Bofur walked over to one of the windows and looked out. "I think up here would make for a better workshop than downstairs." From where he stood, he couldn't see much thanks to his height, but he supposed that the view was a nice one. "Our display window is going to be dwarrow-height," he murmured. In his mind, he could already see the store brightly painted in blues and greens –fun colors to attract the attention of children. He was slightly startled as Bifur clapped a hand on his shoulder.
"Niz nâk ö'ekh bazr," he gently warned. "Tilje mâ umikë."
"Aye, I know," he sighed, sounding a little deflated. "If we had twenty hardy dwarrows with us, it could get done in no time. But, there's just you 'n me for now." He suddenly smiled again and clasped his cousin by the shoulders. "We're in this together. Sometimes we'll have help, sometimes we won't, but in the end, this shop will be worth it, Bifur. I know it will be."
Unable to help it (Bofur's optimism had always been so infectious), Bifur smiled and lightly thumped Bofur on the chest with his palm. "Ûsgan," he said, lightly thumping again.
Copying him, Bofur chuckled. "Greatest luck t' us indeed."