Chapter Eleven

I Wish You All the Happiness

It was late, very late. A crescent moon cast a soft glow about Bilbo's room, making it appear almost mystical.

She listened carefully for the sounds that may have woken her from a peaceful slumber but, heard no crying from her son nor the sound of her father calling out to her. Now that she was wide awake, Bilbo wondered what had pulled her away from a sound slumber.

There wasn't any danger, she was sure of that, but something out of the normal had most definitely woken her.

Swinging herself out of bed, she pulled on her familiar dressing gown she padded out of her bedroom heading straight down the corridor to check on her child.

He was sleeping soundly in his cot, arms wrapped tightly around his woollen bear toy and new wooden dragon. His mouth was hanging on and he had obviously been tossing and turning his sleep for his bed clothes were a tangled mess around him and his night shirt was pulled down one shoulder.

She smiled affectionately at the sight before moving forward to untangle him from his bedclothes. He let out a small whine of protest but did not wake.

She gently ran her fingers over his smooth soft shoulder, her fingers lightly tracing the birthmark there. It was in the shape of a dwarven rune and whenever Bilbo looked at it she was filled with a sense of pride and apprehension. She was certain that she had seen this particular mark before, and was certain that it was a rune of some kind – which was why she never simply dismissed it as a strangely shaped birthmark – but whenever she asked Gandalf about it, he just gave her one his looks and the subject was quickly changed.

It had been a question that had been resting on the tip of her tongue for days since four of her dwarves had come to stay with her, but she always found some reason or another to stop herself from asking.

She knew how protective dwarves were of their culture, in particular their women and children, so she wasn't sure how to voice her question even to these four who were by far some of the most laid-back and open-minded dwarves in their company. She wasn't sure if it was normal for dwarrow children to be born with dwarven runes on their shoulders. When she had first discovered the mark and spent time thinking it over, she didn't think it sounded so strange a thing, not for dwarves at least.

Thorin she knew from her rather, ah, intimate relationship with him, had many strange marks decorating his body. She had learnt the meanings behind some of them, but there were still many more she did not know the reasons or meanings behind.

She feared the mark's meaning, so she held her tongue despite her sensible side protests.

She gently tugged his night shirt straight before pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

"Sleep well my heart." She whispered before leaving the room, closing the door so that it was now only a fraction open.

She checked on her father next and he, like her son, was fast asleep, though his bed clothes were still straight and not thrown and tangled all over the place.

She hardly felt a need to check on the dwarves, they could take care of themselves. Besides she did not think she would be able to stand their teasing if they caught her checking on them in the middle of the night like some kind of mother hen. There was already one mother hen within the company, and Bilbo felt very little need to take the title away from him.

Instead she did a quick round of her house, not that she feared that an intruder had gotten in, she was simply checking that no window had been left open or something just as trivial.

She found no window open or anything else out of place and was just thinking of heading back to bed when she did notice that her front door had, in fact, been left open ajar.

Her heart did a silly little frightened thump within her chest as she crept towards her front door, her hand closing around the handle of the wicked umbrella that had thumped the dwarves over their heads earlier that week.

Heart in her mouth she opened her front door only to find no one there. After another look outside she saw smoke rings moving lazily about in the clear night air and felt immediately stupid for fearing the worst.

Still feeling quite silly, she set her umbrella once more in its rightful place behind the front door before padding lightly outside to see who the other night owl was.

"Bofur?"

The poor dwarf almost jumped out of his skin from where he sat upon her garden bench, and Bilbo felt terrible for not making her presence better known before she stood right by him and spoke his name.

"Eh, lass," he chuckled weakly, placing a hand over his heart, "thought we told you often enough not sneak up on us like that."

Bilbo blushed deeply.

Yes, they had asked her, many, many times to make her presence known to them for she had spooked more than one dwarf during their journey. It had become something of a game for some of them, to try and catch her before she snuck – they said snuck, she said walking normally – upon them. Others had found it insulting that she was able to catch them unaware. Gloin in particular had taken it as a personal offense and had made it his duty to try and catch her as he was one of the dwarves she particularly spooked whenever she appeared by their side.

By the time they had reached Laketown, they were threatening to buy her a bell to tie around her neck so that they would hear her comings and goings no matter how quiet she was. She had quickly disproven this theory when they actually did purchase a bell for her – and with a self-sacrificing sigh she had tied it on a pretty ribbon around her neck – and spent a day walking around with it on. She scared nine dwarves out of their wits that day. Mind you, she had worked an extra bit harder than usual to do this. And she had failed in her ultimate goal all the same.

Her ultimate goal had been to sneak up on Thorin, to prove once and for all that she was the best burglar he could ever hope for, only… the bell had jingled at just the wrong moment, and she hadn't been able to jump away fast enough before he caught her in his arms and pulled her, screaming and laughing into his lap while he chuckled, whispering "got you" into her ear.

"Sorry." She replied sheepishly forcing herself back into the present and away from the memories of Thorin's warm, safe arms.

"Eh, don't be lass, you can't help what you are any more than we can." He moved over on the bench for her to sit down beside him.

"Still, I should have made some noise or something…" she trailed off lamely causing Bofur to chuckle fondly.

"Heh, I've missed you lass."

Bilbo snorted.

"I can hardly think why, what with how much trouble I caused all of you."

Bofur laughed.

"Ya certainly knew how to keep things interesting." He replied causing Bilbo to thump him on his shoulder.

"Not by choice!" she growled in annoyance.

"Even so," he said smiling at her fondly, "I'm very glad you chose to come along on our mad venture."

"You weren't much help convincing me to join though." Bilbo teased, her eyes twinkling, "'think furnace, with wings'? How did you ever think that would be reassuring? Or might I add," she shot him a cynical look and continued, "'Flash of light, searing pain, then poof, you're nothing more than a pile of ash'." She failed in trying to mimic his voice, which might have been why he was doubled over laughing uncontrollably, his pipe dropping from his fingers and onto the soft grass.

"I was only trying to help." He finally choked out as he tried to regain his breath, picking up his pipe.

"I fainted!"

"Yes, well…" he wiped his eyes and grinned down at her while she rolled her eyes back at him. "You still came along, despite what I said."

"Only because I didn't want to get married," Bilbo huffed, "and going on an adventure was the perfect excuse to get out of it."

The dwarf simply raised his eyebrow down at her but said nothing. They sat in companionable silence for a few moments.

"Do you," Bofur started and Bilbo could hear the hesitation in the dwarf's voice, "do you ever wish you hadn't come along with us? That you hadn't run out your front door after us? I know how homesick you got during our journey, and we weren't – we were not always the most understanding bunch to be around, especially towards you."

Bilbo stared up at him in surprise.

"No. Well… yes." She wrestled with the question, "It had its moments. Not all our venture was bad; there are bits of it I quite enjoyed."

"And bits that still give you nightmares?" Bofur asked softly sounding sad and ashamed.

Bilbo looked at him in horror.

"How did you know…" she had always thought she had been quiet when she was suffering from her nightmares. She had never before woken her father or son with them, so how did Bofur know?

"We hear you crying out in your sleep." Bofur said shamefaced and sad causing Bilbo to splutter more. We? That meant that the others had heard her too! And not all her dreams were about raging wars and pale orcs, huge spiders and thousands of goblins swarming down dark, dank tunnels towards her, separating her from her friends. Nor were they about a creature that had no other name than the sound he made as he muttered away to himself, crying out for his precious as he chased her, chased her and chased her until she could run no more. No, not all her nightmares were about the creatures that were feared to lurk in the darkest of night. No, some of them, a lot of them, more than she dared to count were about him. She would dream about them too. She would dream of seeing them dead all around her in that wretched mountain, amongst all that cold, useless treasure and other times they would be dead on the slopes of the mountain. Wherever they were, it didn't matter where, it was always her fault. Their blood was always on her hands because she stole their blasted stone and consorted with their enemy. They would be dead, and it was all her fault. He was always there to make sure she understood that.

Make sure she understood and that she would never forget as his hands twist cruelling within her dirt locks, forcing her to look and see what she had done, how she had betrayed them all and how she would never ever be forgiven for her crime. And then he too would die before her eyes, struck down by Azog before…

She squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to see what always happened next, fighting back tears as her hands curled into fists as she tried to regain control over herself.

She felt a warm, strong arm wrap around her, and for a heart-beat she thought that it was him. She refused to allow herself to feel any kind of disappointment when she realised it was Bofur.

Oh Bofur. Dear Bofur, how much easier her life would have been if she had only fallen…

She shakes her head, shakes that particular thought well away from her. She couldn't think like that!

"I'm fine, Bofur. I'm sorry for waking you and the others with my silliness." She smiles widely up at him, trying not to think how comfortable she is in his arms even though she is disappointed that he isn't someone else. She really was a terrible person, just like everyone secretly thought she was. She was a completely and utterly awful person.

"Don't be silly, we're just worried about you." Bofur replied, seemingly oblivious to her inner struggles.

"Well, you needn't be, they're only nightmares, they will pass with time, like all things." Bilbo shrugged.

"You truly are too gentle and kind at heart." Bofur muttered more to himself than her.

"No, I'm not." Bilbo all but growled, sick and tired of people always saying that about her, even when they knew the truth! "I'm terrible, horrible person. You of all people should know that." Bofur looked at her blankly which only annoyed her more and she could no longer bear to be near him. She jumped out of his arms and away from him, placing her hands upon her hips as she scowled back at him.

"Lass…" He started, reaching out for her, but she moved out of his reach.

"I am. You know I am, remember what I said to you, all those years ago? In that horrid cave before we were all snatched by the goblins? What kind of gentle and kind-hearted person could say such cruel and insensitive things?!"

"You were homesick." Bofur argued back looking a little annoyed, "you had just been through an awful ordeal and been criticized for something that was no way in the slightest your fault. Thorin was truly awful to ya, lass and you needed someone to vent out. I didn't take the slightest offense that it was me that ya did vent out. In fact, it was probably for the best that it was me."

"Why are you always so nice!" Bilbo cried feeling angry tears pricking in her eyes, "I was horrible to you! I betrayed you all! You should hate me! All of you should hate me!" she would have continued screaming and woken the whole neighbourhood up in the process if weren't for Bofur once more pulling her into his arms.

"Hush now, lass, don't say such things."

"But they're true," she sniffed into his coat. Damn these tears! Why was it that every time she got angry, she started weeping?

"No, they aren't. You know they aren't." Bofur said as he rubbed her back gently, calming her ragged breathing.

"Why, why are you always so nice?" she whispered helplessly.

"I'm not always," he chuckled grimly into her hair.

Bilbo snorted in disbelief.

"Bofur, you are the kindest, gentlest, most forgiving soul I know. I can't imagine you not being nice to anyone."

"Well, I do have my moments of being a very unkind and unforgiving dwarf. Just ask the other's if you don't believe me."

Bilbo hesitated nervously as she looked up at him, her eyes asking the questions that she dared not speak out loud.

"I wasn't very forgiving towards Thorin for quite some time." Bofur said after a moment's silence. "Still not, come to think of it." Bofur added and she felt her stomach twist horribly, and she felt more tears roll down her cheeks.

"Bilbo?"

"That's not what I wanted." She sniffed miserably, "I was hoping you would all forget about me and be happy in Erebor, but now you're telling me – and what I've guessed myself – you're not. And it's all my fault."

"No, it's Thorin's fault." Bofur replied firmly. "And he knows it too." He added under his breath though Bilbo heard it nonetheless and stared at him in disbelief.

"What?"

"He doesn't say as much out loud." Bofur said gently, "but you can see it, in his face, in his eyes. He regrets…"

"Please don't…" Bilbo muttered unsure if her heart could stand to be broken any more than it already was. She gently pulled herself free from Bofur's warm, safe arms and sat miserably upon the bench.

'So much for keeping my promise about not feeling sorry for myself,' she thought dully as she rubbed her raw eyes.

Bofur came to crouch down in front of her, his brown eyes filled with concern and something else that Bilbo was terrified to put a name to, despite how much a part of her shattered heart wished very much to.

"I would have come back with you," he says gently and it breaks her heart a little more. He was not trying to make her feel any worse than she already was or make her feel like some kind of villain; he was simply speaking his heart as he had always done, "if I had known… I would have come back and taken care of you and Frodo. I would have made sure…"

"I know." Her heart ached as she stared back him. "I know Bofur. Thank you." More tears rolled down her cheeks. Curses! Why was she so weak? Why couldn't she be stronger, braver, and something worthy of the respect and love these dwarves showed her every day.

"I wish I could lo…" she whispered, but he placed a finger to her lips, gently silencing her.

"Please don't…" he whispered back, echoing her previous plead before lifting himself gently up and placed a careful kiss to her cheek and then her forehead.

"If I thought I stood a chance, I would have stolen you away from Thorin before he even had a chance to realise he had feelings for you."

"You stood more than a chance, Bofur." Bilbo whispered, and the dwarf smiled at sadly.

"But I missed it." he said softly, nodding his head slowly and sighing.

Bilbo opened her mouth to apologise but was once again stopped from speaking by Bofur's finger against her lips.

"It's fine Bilbo." Bofur said with a smile, "I accepted and respected yours and Thorin's feelings from the moment they started to surface, before even," he started to smirk teasingly at her, "you were both rather dense and stubborn about it all."

Bilbo childishly stuck her tongue out at him before sighing.

"Thank you." She whispered as she wrapped her arms around him, letting herself relax into his comforting embrace.

"I just want you to be happy. If I could, I would give you all the happiness in the world." He said into her hair.

"I know."

They stayed silent, content with their embrace before Bilbo pulled back.

"Bofur may I ask something of you, you're free to say no of course, but it would mean a great deal to me if you said yes." As she spoke, she couldn't help but wring her hands nervously.

Bofur nodded and waited patiently for her to continue, smiling warmly at her.

"I want – I want you to be Frodo's Godfather. I don't know if dwarves have godparents, but we – we hobbits do and it's considered bad luck for a child not to have a godparent of some kind and I have yet to name one for Frodo, officially, because… well, because there was no one in the Shire I wanted to name his Godfather because I wanted his Godfather to be you." She was babbling and starting to panic a little for Bofur was silent and seemed to be in deep thought.

"You don't have to be," she squeaked.

"I'd be honoured lass." He said softly, and Bilbo felt herself relax once more.

"Really?"

"Yes." He smiled his glories smile and she tackled him.

"You truly are the best dwarf I know, Bofur!" She said joyfully as she hugged him as tightly as she could which caused him to laugh.

"I'll remember you said that lass," he teased as she released him from her embrace and they started to head back inside her hobbit-hole.

Bilbo laughed softly as she closed her front door behind them.

"Hmmm, I'm sure you will," she chuckled, though it quickly dissolved into a yawn.

"Come, bed you." Bofur said as he placed his hands upon her shoulders and steered her down the corridor that hosted the bedrooms. They stopped when they came to her bedroom door.

"Thank you Bofur." She says and he bows his smile soft and gentle and makes her heart ache for a love that she could so easily have if she didn't still love one of the stubbornness, arrogant, selfish, prideful, distrustful, brave, loyal, honourable and loving dwarf in all of Middle-Earth.

"Good night Bilbo." He said as he kissed the top her head before starting to head for the room that Bilbo had given him to sleep during his and the others stay.

"Bofur?" She called softly as he reached his bedroom's door. He looked back at her curiously.

"I wish you all the luck and happiness in the world. I really do." He smiled widely at her.

"Same to you lass. Same to you."

Bilbo slipped back into her bedroom, her shoulders lighter while her heart felt heavier than ever.

It would be so easy to fall completely and utterly in love with Bofur. He was such an easy man to love. And yet, stupidly and irreversibly her heart belongs solely to another, another who knew not that she was alive nor felt any inclination to come and check for himself to see if she was indeed dead.

Perhaps she was being harsh, but the insufferable man was still, after four years of exile, keeping her from being truly happy because of his continued and permanent presence within her heart!

She shook her head.

It was probably for the best anyway. Bofur deserved a lass who could love him with all her heart, with her whole being, not some broken, incomplete lass still living with the nightmares of their venture.

He deserved someone far, far better than her. And when he found the lucky lass, Bilbo truly did wish for them to have all the happiness and luck in all of Middle-Earth.

She curled up in her bed, trying not to dream about the very different reality that she would be living if her heart had allowed her to fall in love with a very different dwarf to the one who still held it within the palm of his hand.

Did he really regret what had happened between them, in the moment she lost his love and trust? Did he truly miss her?

She falls into a too deep a slumber to dwell upon these questions and by the time morning came around her she had forgotten them entirely.

Author's Note: Well that was Chapter Eleven. I very much hoped you enjoyed it as much as I loved writing it. This is chapter is basically feeding my love for Bofur/Bilbo. I'm almost afraid that with this chapter will have people demanding that I give up Bagginsshield and make this fic all about Bofur/Bilbo. To those who are fans of Bilbo and Bofur I was almost tempted to do so. But I can't, as much as I would love to, I can't and it breaks my heart. Are any of you disappointed that I didn't have them kiss? I admit I was tempted to make them kiss but I stopped myself and again my heart breaks over this. One day I must give into my temptation to write a Bofur/fem!Bilbo fanfic.
By the by, I was wondering if there were any artist reading this? If there are, could I commission someone to draw a cover page for this fanfic? I'm hopeless at drawing and I really want a cover page for this fic. If there are any artist who are interested please let me know.
Anyway, thanks for reading.