A/N Part I There's some dwarvish in this chapter that I sort of bullshitted. I think I saw it on Tumblr somewhere but I can't remember if those were the exact words :O so just, uh, gloss on over any inaccuracies. Edit: So I know my shit spelling/ weirdly belligerent assault on the English language is pretty consistently awful and I realized I hadn't profusely apologized for it yet, so: My most sincere and humble apologies for my English. It is my first language and I don't really have an excuse other than I hate editing with a fiery passion. I will do a massive edit of this before it ends, probably after the semester is over, but until then I can only say you are brave souls for trying to make sense of my words and I salute you all for it.
The company only stayed in Lake Town only a few more days after the incident in the town square. Thorin and the rest of the company had come back to the inn after meeting with the Master all grumbling and looking none too happy.
From what Bilbo could gather based on their leader's angry mutterings, the Master had done everything but ask for a share in their gold. He had given them provisions, ponies, and many fine clothes (though Thorin vehemently refused the garishly ruffled shirts) always simpering that 'of course there's no need for payment, Master Dwarf' and 'it is simply a token of fostering friendship.'
The hobbit shuddered at the thought of the Master's horrid lips pulled back to reveal green teeth as he smiled with such sweetness that made him want to vomit. Bilbo hadn't needed anyone to tell him that what hadn't been said was infinitely more important. While they hadn't needed to pay for anything while staying in Lake Town, there was naturally still a price.
"He'll want gold if we succeed," Thorin had grumbled as he poked the fine piece of duck plated before him on the night before they had decided to leave, "and not just a piece or two."
The hobbit couldn't help but feel that the Master's friendship, if you could call it such, was much more like a poisonous flower. It might look pretty and harmless, but one wrong shift of your hand and there would sooner be sickness in your future than the small pleasures of lovely treasures. On the other hand, Bilbo also knew they wouldn't get very far on their way to the Lonely Mountain if they didn't have food to eat or water to drink.
With this thought firmly set in the front of his mind, the hobbit tried to force the image of Bard laying on the stone street, bleeding and broken, from igniting the hot, bubbling anger that rose from the pit of his stomach every time he thought of the Master and his guard.
There was… nothing much he could do for Bard and his plight. The Master already hated him and he held no sway with the people of this town. He wanted to help, to try and dislodge this awful man from his seat of stolen power, but with Bard laying low and the people too scared to act out, the hobbit couldn't see much chance in the situation. The one small glimmer of hope that Bilbo kept close to his heart was that when they took back Erebor, when Thorin had his people back in the Lonely Mountain and enough gold to buy the town thousands of times over, then maybe he could convince his friend to aid Bard.
While the Master had been nothing but cloyingly nice since his talk with Thorin, there was no doubt in Bilbo's mind that the balding man wanted them gone and out of his hair. Or, the hobbit supposed, lack thereof. Combined with their leader growing more and more impatient to finally get back on their quest, the company of Thorin Oakenshield had set out that morning to follow the Celduin north to the home of the dwarves.
Laden with packs and ponies, the company made their way through the town. It seemed that all the inhabitants had gathered together to see off their mysterious guests. Bilbo heard small snippets whispered between eager ears as they proceeded down the streets. Most seem split between either thinking they would soon have some very rich dwarf neighbors or that the dragon still resided deep within the mountain and the company would be charred smears on the stone floors.
The hobbit tried to tune out the voices as he clutched the reins of the pony he was leading, and couldn't stop thinking was most definitely not Mertyl, but the voices crept into his ears much against his best efforts. Trying to distract himself, Bilbo turned to look the wares being sold in the stalls next to him.
They was no conformity to the stalls other than their shared eclectic nature. Bilbo's eyes fell upon baubles and cakes, fish and clothing, meats and vegetables. Several of the stalls were selling some small kites that were delicately crafted to look like fish, tails that could twist back and forth, able to swim in the sky instead of the water and couldn't help but think they would be quite a hit with the young hobbits back in the Shire.
He almost considered stopping for a moment to purchase one but as soon as he took a closer look, he realized that the fish were made a delicately painted paper. Paper that would no doubt be incinerated instantly if they ran into a dragon. Bilbo gulped at the vision of fiery death flashing behind his eyes and shook his head trying to quell the sudden nervousness he felt. Despite the assurances he given Thorin, and he did truly believe that they would reclaim Erebor, there was no denying that a dragon was quite possibly waiting for them in the empty kingdom.
No… he would wait to buy the kite. Perhaps on his way back home, after all this was done, he could stop back in Lake Town and pick one up. Bilbo was about to walk past the stall when a small flash caught his eye.
Laying half-covered by a pile of small woven baskets, the hobbit thought he something glinting and metallic. Bilbo stopped and moved a few of the baskets aside and picked up what appeared to be a thin carving knife, it's handle a smooth, black obsidian inlayed with golden runes he recognized to be dwarvish.
It looked rather like the kind he had seen Bifur using to whittle the night the dwarf had saved him from those drunks from the tavern. Guilt pooled in him as he remembered he had yet to thank Bifur for that. Deciding after a few moments of thought, Bilbo picked up the knife and turned to the old, crooked man who ran the stall.
"Uh, how much for this?" The hobbit asked as he held the knife up.
"Oh that, little master, is of dwarvish make, very rare these days." The man smiled at him, every tooth but one missing from his mouth, "worth a pretty coin or two, my friend."
Biblo raised a brow, "Alright, how much then?" He didn't have any coins per say… The Master had given them many things, but money had not been one of them.
The old man winked at him and leaned forward before whispering, "I saw you help Mister Bard, laddie, not many would've stood up for him against the Master." The hobbit looked up in surprise at the man's face, "I'll give it to ya free of charge on behalf of the folk in this town who are knowin' the good work that lad does."
Bilbo glanced wide-eyed between the knife and the old man, "Are you sure? I don't want to just take it for nothing!"
The old man chuckled as he sat back again, "Wish we had more folks who thought like you in this town, lad. I insist you take it, just…" and his voice lowered once more, "if your prince does get his mountain back, remember there are people in this town who are sufferin' and can't be fightin' their battles alone, you hear?"
Bilbo nodded fervently, stuffing the knife into his pocket, "I will."
There was a call that sounded much like Kili coming from the back of the company who had kept moving down the street, "Master Boggins c'mon! What's taking so long?"
The old man nodded, smiling his toothless smile once again, "There's a good lad, now I'd get a move on if I were you, they might just leave you behind."
The hobbit thanked him quickly and ran back to the company, pulling his pony along.
"What were you doing back there, Master Boggins?" Kili asked with a raised brow as he narrowed his eyes at the old man. The dwarf had acted nothing but frostily cold to the people of Lake Town since the incident in the town square.
Bilbo sighed a little, "Nothing dangerous, I assure you, just wanted to pick something up quick."
Kili didn't look away from the stall as his eyes narrowed even further, "I still don't trust these people… and you shouldn't wander off alone, Master Baggins." The young dwarf swung his gaze to Bilbo, a frown still firmly set in place.
"It's nothing to worry about," Bilbo patted Kili on the shoulder gently.
"Nothing to worry about?" The dwarf hissed angrily, "You've been attacked twice since we got here, Master Boggins! They do nothing to help a man who spends his days protecting them and let you get beaten for being in the wrong place! They have no honor here!"
Bilbo considered Kili for a moment. The dwarf wasn't… wrong, but he also wasn't right. The hobbit had seen the fear in their eyes, heard Bard speak of the Master's oppression, and he when he thought of the folks of Lake Town, Bilbo Baggins felt nothing but pity.
"The people of this town are frightened, Mister Kili. And they have… much to be frightened of. Not everyone can be brave and strong all the time, not all of them know how to fight like you do." Bilbo turned his gaze to the faces that lined the road. While they were all different, each held the same sense of tired anxiety. Like every day for them was a routine in suppression. Like they were stuck and the only man with the means for change was the one person who wanted things to stay exactly as they were.
"Well they should do something," Kili growled as he looked towards where the hobbit's gazed now lingered. "How can they just stand by and let that awful man tell them what to do!"
Bilbo looked back towards his friend, "Because they don't have any hope, Mister Kili, they don't see any way for life to get better, so they don't risk getting hurt for something they see as just a dream."
"Then someone should make them hope! Like Uncle does for us!" Kili said with such it reverent fervor, Bilbo couldn't help but smile. There was no one who idolized Thorin more than his nephew. The hobbit wasn't sure if even their leader knew how deeply and unconditionally Kili's love for his uncle ran. While Bilbo would never doubt that Kili loved his brother first and with all his heart, he also knew that the young dwarf would never think anything but the world of Thorin.
Bilbo smiled up at the dwarf whose face was determinedly set, "I think… that's what Bard is trying to do here. He wants to inspire these people. To let them know that they can have a better life."
Kili snorted, "Well, he's not doing a very good job of it, they almost let him get killed. Probably would have too if we hadn't shown up."
The hobbit let out a small sigh, "I don't think it's that easy. Have you ever been truly and utterly without hope Mister Kili?"
The dwarf frowned as he pondered the question for a few minutes, "There was… one time when I got lost. Fili and I were playing in the forest. I would hide and then he would try to find me, then we'd switch. I saw this great big tree, tallest I'd ever seen," Kili gestured up to the sky, waving his arm to emphasize how gigantic this tree had been, "so I decided to climb it. I got up near the top and one of the branches I was on snapped and I almost fell."
Kili's eyes clouded as he sunk back into memory, "I grabbed onto one of the branches but I couldn't see anyway to get down. I thought… I thought I was going to die up there. That Fili would forget we were playing and no one would hear me shouting for help."
"I spent hours there," Kili said with a sigh, "the sun started to set and my throat felt like it was bleeding from shouting so much. I… that was the only time in my life I thought Fili had abandoned me. I know he didn't, of course!" the dwarf started quickly, glancing down at Bilbo, "but I was young and… afraid. After a while I gave up, couldn't even cry anymore," the dwarf added, "so I just sat there on the branch. I felt… I don't know, I suppose empty the best way to describe it. I thought no one cared and that no one would miss me."
Kili fiddled with strap across his chest that fixed his quiver to his back. "It was almost night when I heard Fili and Uncle shouting for me. I'd never seen Thorin so worried before that and Fili was covered with cuts and bruises from chasing though the forest trying to find me." The young dwarf's face broke out in a small, fond smile, "When they found me I couldn't even talk, just started sobbing like some pathetic little dwarfling. Thorin practically tore the tree down to get to me."
Bilbo chuckled at the thought of Thorin ripping down a large trunk with his bare hands.
"Once he got me down, he pulled Fili up and hugged us so tightly I couldn't even breathe. Made us promise we would never get separated in the woods again." Kili looked over to where his brother was chatting with Ori before grinning down at Bilbo, "Fili certainly took it seriously, don't think we've ever been apart since. But… I think when I was up there, stuck in that tree, that was the most helpless I've ever felt."
Bilbo smiled back gently. "Then you do know how they feel, Mister Kili. It's like…" the hobbit paused as he considered his words, "it's like these people are stuck in a tree, but they don't have an uncle to come help them down yet."
The dwarf nodded slowly, his face turning contemplative, "I… never thought about it like that I guess. Nothing is ever simple, is it Master Boggins?"
The hobbit laughed loudly as he shook his head, feeling that nothing so accurately surmised life more than that little thought, "No, Mister Kili, I don't think it is. But I hope Bard will be able to make some difference for these people."
Kili nodded as he slung an arm around the hobbit's shoulders, "Me too, Master Boggins, me too."
From what Thorin had said, there was only a few days journey to the Lonely Mountain from the edges of Lake Town. As long as they followed the path along the river, the road would be relatively smooth. Bilbo, though it would have shocked him at the beginning of this adventure, was happy to be back on the winding roads and out of the town.
There was a new sort of vigor within the company as they made their way up the river. They were close and every member of their group could feel it in their very bones. There was nothing between them and their goal but some miles of road and a dragon. Now, that second bit worried Bilbo very, very much but there seemed to be an unspoken rule that no one should mention Smaug lest they bring down the mood.
The first day they travelled until well past nightfall, though no one complained because they had finally broken through the forest and could now see the mountain with eyes unhindered by trees. It was… awe-inspiring to say the least. The sun had set, casting the massive form in darkness against the red-tinged sky.
As soon as Thorin saw it, Bilbo could tell the dwarf was filled with… something that made him stand taller and move with more purpose. The hobbit was certain their leader wouldn't have wanted to rest, to travel all through the night if not for Kili stifling a yawn beside his uncle.
They set up camp a little way from the road in a thicket of small trees and soft grasses. The fire had been built and Bilbo along with a happily whistling Bofur made dinner together for the first time in a long while. It was good to talk to the dwarf again, Bilbo thought. He hadn't had much chance since Beorn's house and as soon as the genial dwarf had started laughing and joking, the hobbit realized how much he missed the seemingly boundless humor of his friend who grinned at him from beneath the brim of his hat.
The supplies the Master had given them were good; in fact they were very good, so good even Bilbo had to grudgingly admit the quality of the meats as he bit into a juicy piece. He didn't like being indebted to a man as horrid as the Master, but his growling stomach appeared not to care even in the slightest where the food was coming from as long as it was there.
Most of the dwarves sat around the fire and sang old songs from the halls of Erebor in honor of almost coming home. Bilbo pulled his blanket a little tighter around his shoulders but as he shifted he felt something poke into his stomach. The hobbit's brows pulled together in confusion as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the small, black knife he had been given earlier. Glancing up, Bilbo looked around to see where Bifur was but couldn't see the dwarf among the group packed tightly in the center.
The hobbit stood up and glanced around at the smaller clusters around the camp. Ori and Dori were talking quietly near the bedrolls, while Bombur lay on his side facing away from them, soft snores escaping with each breath. Looking around for a few more moments, his gaze almost skipped over the dwarf who was leaning against a small tree, slightly away from camp and facing the Lonely Mountain.
Bilbo excused himself from the group, ignoring the groans of Fili and Kili who told him to stop being allergic to fun but took a final moment to swat the brothers on their heads. Walking away from their laughter, Bilbo made his way to where Bifur sat on the ground, delicately carving a small figure into the wood. There were several other little wooden things on the ground next to him that the hobbit tried not to step on as he approached the dwarf.
Waiting for him to look up, Bilbo watched the dwarf whittle away at the wood. Bifur glanced up at him with a questioning grunt, his brow raised. There was a still moment as the hobbit panicked. Sometimes it escaped him that the dwarf couldn't understand him nor could they really communicate apart from wild hand gestures.
"Uh…" Bilbo said rather lamely as he stared back at Bifur before he pointed to himself them down at the ground next to where the dwarf was sitting. Bifur looked… well, not displeased, but certainly puzzled as to why the burglar was suddenly seeking his company. After all, Bilbo was quite literally the only member of the group who knew exactly none of the dwarf tongue.
Bifur grunted again with a shrug and went back to whittling the small figure. The hobbit sat down hesitantly and in silence for a moment before he pulled the knife from his pocket and held it out to the dwarf. Stopping his work, Bifur glanced over to it but made no motion to take the knife.
Bilbo opened his hand so the knife lay flat on his palm and pushed it forward once more. Bifur raised a brow again and pointed a solitary finger towards himself as if asking the hobbit if the knife was for him. Biblo sighed with relief and nodded vigorously with a wide smile. The dwarf hesitantly took the small knife from Bilbo and examined the blade and handle with certain reverence.
The hobbit could tell from Bifur's face the knife was at least of some quality and felt a little wave of relief run through him. He hadn't wanted to offend Bifur with shoddy workmanship seeing as how he knew how much dwarves prized skilled smith work.
As Bifur examined the small knife, Bilbo looked at the small figure that now rested on ground right in front of the dwarf's legs. Though it was somewhat hard to make out much detail in the dark, the light of the almost full moon helped the hobbit make out that it was a little person. No… not a person, Bilbo thought as he leaned forward to take a closer look, a dwarf. And it was not just any dwarf.
Looking back at him wirh small wooden eyes was Thorin Oakenshield. Though he was very small and rather more… still than the real Thorin. The little wooden figure had a grim expression on his face, Orcrist held out in from of him, and his old oaken-shield on his other arm. The hobbit couldn't help but let out a little whistle at the sheer level of detail on the figure. The fur-lined coat that had the same patterning as it's woolen counterpart and there were even small braids carved into the hair.
Bilbo reached out to take it but quickly looked up at Bifur to ask permission. "Can I—" he started before halting almost as quickly. The hobbit flushed in embarrassment before pointing to himself and then down to the figure. Bifur nodded before going back to his inspection of the runes on the knife.
Gently taking the figure into his hand, Bilbo held it up in he moonlight. Turning it slowly, the hobbit marveled at the skill it must have taken to carve such tiny detail without the wood cracking in the thinnest places. Holding it up against the moon, Bilbo squinted his eyes and could almost pretend it was the real Thorin. A smile crept across the hobbit's face as he moved the wooden dwarf from side to side as if he was walking.
"Ghunum melhekh," came Bifur's gruff voice from beside him.
Bilbo stopped squinting and looked over questioningly at his companion, "Uh… what, sorry?"
The dwarf gestured at the carving in the hobbit's hands, "ghunum melhekh."
Bilbo glanced back and forth, hoping some sort of understanding would suddenly come to mind but, predictably, nothing came. "I'm sorry, I don't know what that means…"
Bifur shook his head but not with frustration, appearing more resigned that the look of confusion on the hobbit's face was not going to be remedied by his doing. Leaning over to his other side, Bifur picked up two of the other carvings and handed them over gently. Bilbo put down the miniature Thorin and saw that the two resting in Bifur's hand were actually three.
The larger one was Fili and Kili, each had an arm wrapped around the other's shoulder and their wooden faces grinned up at him with matching expressions of mirth. The other one was… well, much to Bilbo's surprise it was him. There was no mistaking the pointed ears and walking stick. The tiny him was leaning against the stick with a curious look on his face. Like he was gazing at something bright and wondrous but also… sort of sad in a way.
Bilbo glanced over to where Bifur had picked up these new additions and saw that most of the company also resided there strewn about on the grass. Bifur had put aside his old knife and was now whittling away at a new chunk of wood with the black blade the hobbit had gifted him.
He had never really talked with the dwarf. The most he knew about Bifur was that he was a very skilled fighter and the small bits of information Bofur had imparted about his cousin while he cooked with Bilbo over the campfire. To be honest, Bilbo hadn't given the dwarf much thought. And as he looked at the figures resting in his hands, he felt sadness and guilt at the very notion.
To have carved them with such accuracy, Bilbo knew the dwarf had to be incredibly observant. But more than that, there was care put into every cut of the wood. The hobbit was sure even if he practiced for a hundred years, he might have been as skilled, but he would never have been able to give them such life.
He wished he had… put more effort in trying to know the dwarf, language barrier or no. Bifur had defended him with no hesitation and the hobbit knew from Bofur's tales that the dwarf cared for his family deeply. Bilbo took one last look at the figures before he tried to hand them back, holding his hands out.
Bifur glanced down and shook his head. Feeling nothing but confused once again, Bilbo thought maybe the dwarf had misunderstood. The hobbit pushed his hands forward once more before he heard Bifur sigh. The dwarf put down his knife and small bit of wood then put his hands by Bilbo's. Bifur put his hands underneath the hobbit's fingers then gently folded them so the figures were still in Bilbo's palms but covered. The dwarf pushed his hands back towards the hobbit's chest with a significant look before pulling his own away and going back to his carving.
'He… wants me to have them?' Bilbo thought to himself with wonder. He didn't want to take something so precious from the dwarf but… the look on Bifur's face told him not to argue and just take them. So the hobbit clutched them to his coat and smiled widely at his companion, "I, uh – thank you, Mister Bifur."
The dwarf seemed to recognize his name or the sentiment at least and nodded his head.
Bilbo felt a warm glow flood into his chest as he glanced down again at the little wooden figurines. He would treasure these, long after he returned home to Bag End and grew old and fat and tired, Bilbo Baggins would treasure these gifts.
He and Bifur sat together for a long while, not talking of course, but it was a comfortable silence. Bilbo hoped the dwarf understood how much it meant to him that Bifur had saved his life and how he grateful he was for of the sturdy sort of strength that emanated from his companion.
The moon rose higher in the sky and the talking died out behind them as the rest of the company dropped off to sleep, but Bilbo stayed sitting next to Bifur who was still carving what was slowly starting to look like Bofur. The hobbit silently watched each of the cuts with fascination and was grateful the dwarf didn't seem to mind.
Bilbo thought they must have sat there for at least a few hours before the hobbit heard footsteps behind them. Looking up, Bilbo saw Bofur approaching them with a wide grin on his face. The dwarf leaned down and spoke to his cousin in dwarvish before playfully shoving him as he saw the figure in the other dwarf's hands was, in fact, himself.
They spoke for a few minutes until Bofur leaned back up with a stretch before moving a few steps over to sit next to Bilbo. "My cousin tells me you gave him a fine present, Master Baggins."
The hobbit nodded as realization dawned on him, this was perfect! Bofur could translate for him!
"Could you, uh, could you tell Mister Bifur thank you for saving me the other day?"
Bofur laughed genially as he spoke to his cousin again. The other dwarf muttered something back which caused the miner to laugh even more, "he says you're welcome."
Bilbo raised an eyebrow as Bofur grinned back, "well something like that anyway, never was one with words, our Bifur." The dwarf looked down into Bilbo's hands and 'hmm'd' appreciatively. "I was wonderin' if he was goin' to be givin' those to ya. Glad he did, they look right with you protectin' them all mother hen like."
The hobbit glowered at his friend, "I am not a mother hen. And why should they be mine? Don't get me wrong," he added with haste, "I very much appreciate them! But… they should no more be mine than anyone else in the company."
Bofur laughed again but it trailed off as he looked at Bilbo's face, "Yer serious, aren't ya laddie?"
The dwarf rolled his eyes as if the hobbit was missing something incredibly obvious and essential. "For bein' a relatively smart hobbit," Bofur winked playfully, "ya sure do make a habit of bein' utterly oblivious, don't ya?"
Bilbo sighed, apparently he wasn't going to get a straight answer tonight.
"Fine, don't tell me. But next time you need something burgled, don't go asking me for help."
Bofur shoved him with his shoulder, "I'm thinkin' we both know ya couldn't steal nothin' to save your own life."
Bilbo narrowed eyes, "Be careful, Master Dwarf, I could have some hidden talents yet to be revealed. You might just eat your words."
The dwarf chuckled and said something to his cousin who smiled back before responding in his gruff voice, "He says he believes you, Master Baggins. Suppose I'll be havin' to believe as well, my cousin is unrivaled in the arts of perception."
The hobbit sniffed at the air, "Glad to see one of you has some lick of sense."
They chatted away with familiar companionship for a while longer until Bifur excused himself. The dwarf gathered up his supplies and wished them good night. Well at least that's what Bofur told him Bifur had said, though the hobbit was inclined to believe him this once seeing as how he was now convinced Bifur was just the good sort of dwarf.
Bilbo, however, wasn't quite ready to retire yet and it seemed neither was Bofur. The dwarf sat with him as they gazed at the moon making its steady way across the sky before a sudden thought came to the hobbit.
"Say, Mister Bofur…" he began slowly, looking over at his friend, "what does, uh, ghunum melhekh mean?" The words sounded foreign on his tongue as he molded them with his lips. Bilbo was sure he butchered the pronunciation but he hoped it was good enough that Bofur would understand.
The dwarf raised a brow in question, clearly not expecting the hobbit's question, "Trying to learn a bit o' the native tongue now, are ya?"
Bilbo shrugged, it had occurred to him to try and learn but… he had thought the dwarves would probably be as secretive with their tongue as they were with most other aspects of their culture. He was sure Ori or the Durin brothers wouldn't be opposed, but it seemed somehow rude of him to ask without invitation.
"Your cousin said it to me, I was just curious."
The dwarf pondered for a few silent moments as he gazed up at the moon again. "It means lonely king." Bilbo looked over sharply at his friend then down at the figure resting in his hand. "Or that's the closest I'm thinkin' it'll get in the common tongue."
The hobbit felt a sudden sadness wash over him as he looked upon the wooden Thorin's face. He hadn't noticed it before, thinking the expression was the familiar look of grim determination he'd seen on Thorin's face a hundred time before; but as he looked at it now, he did see a loneliness there and it made his heart ache.
"Bifur is…" Bofur began as he followed Bilbo's gaze to the hobbit's palm, "more observant than most folks are givin' him credit for."
Bilbo couldn't help but nod in agreement, still finding himself surprised that the dwarf had managed to show all these things through carving. "Does the axe… does it hurt him?"
Bofur leaned back on the grass to his head rested on his hands, "It's not the axe that hurts him, laddie..." The dwarf sighed as he paused, "I don't think you'd be any sort of surprised knowin' his story ain't nothing too happy. Don't think any dwarf here hasn't gone though somethin' so terrible it didn't make him a touch mad."
Plucking a long piece of grass and placing it between his teeth, the dwarf continued, "…Well maybe not Master Gloin, but don't think anyone would be callin' him sane when he starts rantin' about that lady of his." Bilbo chuckled quietly in agreement.
"But Bifur he… well, he didn't lose everything right away, not like me and Bombur did."
"He and his chosen lived with their little boy outside of Erebor. Did huntin' and scouting jobs for the city plus a little toy makin' on the side but he didn't take much to livin' in the mountain like the rest of us." The hobbit felt his heart clench a bit, knowing this was not going to end happily. "So when the beast attacked us, he and his family were safe as they could've been I suppose."
Bofur's expression went sort of blank. "You remember when I was tellin' you about our journey? When we were attacked by goblins on the road?" The hobbit nodded slowly, "when I said Bifur got hurt protectin' us, he… he thinks he should've been protectin' his wife and child."
"When the goblins came it was all sorts of dark. No one really was knowin' who was friend or foe or even where the bastards came from." The dwarf rubbed his forehead, all his familiar humor seemed to fall away from his face, "Bifur told me he left them with a group of soldiers so he could be findin' Bombur an' me. We weren't too far of course, but with the confusion of the attack, everyone was gettin' separated."
"He took the axe trying to defend us from a dozen goblins. There was fightin' till the sun rose and we barely got him to a healer. Didn't hear about his family until it was…" Bofur let out a small cough and took a deep breath, "They were with a group of warriors, all seasoned in battle, but I was told they… they were cut off when the horde was attackin' us. Every dwarf in that group died, suppose Bifur would've died too if he hadn't come to save us."
Bofur was silent for a few long moments before he looked up at the hobbit with a pained expression on his face, "Sometimes I think he wishes he had, Master Baggins." Bilbo reached out and squeezed the dwarf's arm in comfort. "Bifur was out for a few weeks, healers told us he wasn't goin' to make it but Bombur and me knew better. When he finally woke and we told him… well he went a bit mad for a while."
"He's gotten better over the years, but… There are times when the rage takes him and there's not one dwarf in all the lands that could talk sense into him." Bofur sighed gently as he chewed absently on the grass, "This journey has been good on him, Master Baggins. Givin' him some purpose was the best thing to do, I've been thinkin'."
"He does seem calm," Bilbo added softly, "… and very thoughtful. I wish I could speak to him."
Bofur smiled up at him though it was still pained and small, "I think he wishes that too, Master Baggins. But he does what he can." The dwarf gestured at the figures, "And it's somethin' special, ain't it?"
Bilbo smiled down at his friend, "It really is."
"I know it's selfish of me, but sometimes I do send a little prayer to Mahal thankin' him for savin' Bifur's life. I wish with all of my heart that his family was livin' but… he's still here and that's somethin' to be grateful for I think."
Bilbo looked up at the moon and thought about the family he'd lost. About his mother and father. They hadn't been attacked by goblins or taken away by dragon fire, but as he thought of their smiling faces, laughing as they had when his family had been happy and whole and together, Bilbo thought he understood at least a little.
He… didn't really have anyone. Sure he had relatives and friends but… seeing as how he never married and started his own family he was, in his own way, alone. He remembered his mother's laughter and his father's hugs; and for the first time in many years, Bilbo felt the sharp sting of loss.
"It is. Something to be grateful for, I mean," Bilbo could remember the times he and his mother had sat atop Bag End watching a moon much like this one rising and falling in the warm evening nights of summer. "Life is precious," the hobbit said quietly, "it should be… treasured above all else, I think."
Bofur nodded as they both now stared at the silver orb hung in the sky, "I'm thinkin' you're right, Master Baggins."
A/N Part II TL;DR: The Revenge of the TL;DR So I in regards to the pacing of this story and the lack of actual Bagginshield so far, I thought I'd kinda go through what's been going on since people seemed to respond well to that last time. First things first, there will be BAgginshield stuff in this story, not just me being a little shit and implying it. That being said, however, I would also like to stress that this story is not just Bagginshield. The point of this story is not to be just about Thorin and Bilbo, it's also to go through how Bilbo got to know the rest of the company (and I guess Bard because he forcibly inserted himself). If this had only been about Thorin and Bilbo I'm sure it would be over by now. Now to be fair, I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing so I do apologize if it appeared to be strictly Thilbo to anybody. I have the end pretty much planned out but everything else I've just been making up as I go. When this started I thought it'd be like 50 pages max, it is now like 250 on word so I think we all know it sort of spun out of control. I do hope the Bagginshield pacing isn't too boring/slow, but I am warning you now, if you're expecting them to fall madly in love right now and start having wild dwarf/hobbit sex on a throne, while throughly enjoyable and fun to read, that shits not going to happen in the next chapter. I really want to build these characters realistically so when stuff does actually happen, it means something because their relationship hasn't just been implied or inferred based on the fact that they went on a journey together, I want there to be experiences and instances that people can look back on and go 'oh that's when Thorin stopped being a huge dick' or 'that's when they started trusting each other.' That is what makes me really love stories, so I'm hoping to at least somewhat accomplish that in this one. To me, Thorin hasn't really made a friend since his days in Erebor. He has been a leader first and doesn't really trust anyone outside of his dwarves on the chance that they could have betrayed him. So now that he has this relationship with Bilbo, he awkward and a lot of times doesn't really know what to say. He doesn't remember how to make or keep new friends because he's felt they were a luxury or a distraction from his rage and his goal to get back to Erebor. So for Thorin making anything into a friendship, let alone loving someone, to me, would have to take time and an immense amount of trust on his part, trust he is not used to giving. Bilbo on the other hand, if just kind look at his life, can assume he's never been in love. He's got friends and likes to do hobbit stuff, but based on his general nature, it seems like he likes to keep people mostly as acquaintances. Not that he abhors love or is an emotional scrooge, but I think he's just never really been bothered much, so knowing that someone meant more to him than a friend, well I'm not sure he'd even recognize or realize what was going on. Especially if that someone is Thorin 'holy shit what are feelings' Oakenshield. So I know my summary skills are severely lacking and if you've been holding on just for some steamy action, I am sorry if I implied that was happening soon after the beginning. I'm assuming if you're reading this and you've stuck with this story for 18 chapters, you're not too horribly opposed to format, but, once again, it is not just Thilbo happening all up in this bitch. This story is about Bilbo. About his thoughts and his feelings. About his interactions and friendships with the company. So, at least how I interpret it, friendship and love take time to build so this story will continue as it has been going so far. I hope you've been enjoying basically re-reading the hobbit with added dialogue and sass so far and also hope you continue to enjoy it!