February was simply dredging by, as cold and unforgiving as was typical for the time of the year. I arrived at my shift at the tavern one such blustery afternoon and was pleasantly surprised when we were graced with the presence of a solo lute player. He sat in the corner by the fire, plucking out quiet yet pleasing variations, and I had been instructed to bring him a plate of food and drinks on the house, for which he happily agreed to play for the duration of the evening.
Hall arrived soon thereafter, and after questioning the merits of a single lone musician and extolling his own virtues in the same breath, he went on to order a drink, an order which changed from ale to a light wine, and then changed again when he saw me filling a tankard from a new cask at the end.
"Wait, if that's cider I'll have that instead."
I couldn't help but laugh at his indecisiveness. In a way he reminded me of how I had felt once - flighty and awkward, which was resulting in a bit of a soft spot for the young man. As I began to pour his drink, I admonished him sarcastically over my shoulder.
"Are you sure you wouldn't want a glass of port instead? Or brandy? Or why not a nice cup of tea? It's not too late to change your mind you know." I set the mug before him, but didn't slide it across the bar quite yet.
He never seemed to understand my sarcasm - that, or he was far too clever for it (and despite outward appearances, as I got to know him better I was beginning to suspect the latter), but in any case he responded as if oblivious to my teasing.
"Just cider, thanks. Brandy is too rich a drink for a working man like me."
I idly glanced towards the door as a swirl of cold wind and snow gusted in along with more customers. A group of dwarves, yet I could tell at first glance they were not the typical labourers that often frequented. Likely they were among those newly assigned to help with Dale's water crisis. I was about to turn away, to return to my duties unbothered, when the corner of my eye caught sight of someone I was altogether too intimately familiar with to ignore.
Bofur had followed the others in.
I froze momentarily as I watched him swipe snow off his jacket, but then I collected my wits and jolted into action. I left Hall mid-sentence and attempted to side-step towards the backroom, trying to delicately dodge past Avis whom was laden down with a few full plates of roast beef and mashed yam. Bofur, however, had keen eyes, and they landed on me as soon as he looked around the room. For a moment I thought he didn't recognize me, as he simply looked away and followed his companions to one of the larger tables without any further preamble. Yet when he had settled into a chair his gaze lazily travelled back to me and I knew I was found out. His eyebrows knotted just slightly as he locked eyes with mine. I kept my expression neutral even though I was rather aggravated.
I had implicitly told him, ordered him really, not to come to Dale while I was trying to work. He would be too great a distraction and I knew it would be difficult to keep up my facade with him around. To make matters worse, I had not yet reported to the dwarves that I had changed my disguise and felt worried that Bofur, upon seeing me clearly disobeying the careful instructions I had been ordered to follow, would force me to abandon my post on account of being untruthful and reckless.
"Eleanor? What has gotten into you? Best go clear that table! Why, it should have been done ages ago!" Avis harped from behind me. I quickly turned to her and she nodded her head towards the newly arrived dwarven group, whose chosen table had indeed not yet been cleaned off since the previous guests.
With a hasty apology I grabbed an empty tray and bustled towards them, determined not to let Bofur vex me. Hall grinned as I passed by his seat and I acknowledged him with a quick nod. I took a deep breath just as I was approaching the dwarven table, empowering myself to keep up my confidence and act as Eleanor would.
"Sorry, lads. It's been a busy night." I said cheerily as I snuck in beside one and began collecting the used mugs. "Let me just clear this up quick and then I'll get your orders."
I hastened to the other side of the table and leaned past Bofur to grab the last few plates. I let my chest graze 'accidentally' across his shoulder as I dipped forward with my cloth to wipe up a small spill. The familiar smell of his old leather hat, along with undertones of the pipe smoke that clung to his clothing, hit my nostrils and a small pool of ache began to fill my chest. Still, I refrained from even looking at him as I straightened up. I hastened back to the bar to drop off the dishes and steady my resolve. The five other dwarves at the table I did not know, but if I created a scene they might decide to look at me more speculatively, and then perhaps recognize me as the woman that was usually at Bofur's side in the mountain.
When I returned I deliberately waited to take Bofur's order last, and when I finally looked to him, I did so somewhat shyly, hoping my gaze would not betray that my heart rate had picked up at being in his presence.
"No food for me, lass, just bring me two tankards of the stout." he told me, sitting back in his seat.
"Two, master dwarf?" I queried with a small smile, but before he could respond to me another of the unknown dwarves piqued up from behind a very bushy beard.
"Aye lass, this young lad here's got a powerful thirst." he said, nodding at Bofur with a chuckle.
Bofur glared at his companion with mock irritation, and then chided.
"Now now, Harrik, we wouldn't to give this nice woman the wrong impression about us." He turned in his seat to glance back at me. "We're not all drunkards and scoundrels, now are we?"
The dwarf, Harrik, laughed raucously. "Scoundrels? Nay." he cajoled. "I believe the way you used to describe yourself was 'roguish' and 'charming', and half the dams in the Blue Mountains would agree with you in that - some of the dwarves as well, I'd wager."
I raised my eyebrows and grinned a little at Bofur but he simply smirked, his eyes twinkling, and did not rise to the teasing. As I left to fetch their drinks I heard another one of the dwarves speak up.
"I hear you've got a fancy for human maids now Bofur? Do we need to be keepin' an eye on you tonight? Our server seems fair enough..."
I bit back a smile as I left their earshot.
It took me several trips to and from the bar to deliver their order of drinks, plus the food a few of the older dwarves had asked for, and by that time a few of the dwarves, including Bofur, had already wetted their beards and were requesting refills.
Hall managed to catch my arm as I whisked by, ordering another cup of the cider.
"You look tired." he observed after I returned with his mug.
I nodded slightly. "Dwarves, they do drink a lot, I'll be running all night." I commented, taking a minute to catch my breath.
"Don't work yourself into the ground, not worth it." he chided, glancing towards the dwarven party with a slight frown, he then glanced back up at me with a smile. "When is your next day off? Mabel has been pestering me to take her out ice fishing, why don't you join us?"
"I can take a day off whenever really." I replied quietly after a moment's thought. "We'll talk later though." I added before excusing myself to go fill a full pitcher of stout so that I could renew the dwarves' drink levels once more.
"-what he builds with one hand he breaks with the other!" Harrik was stating loudly when I reached their table's edge. "I swear, you'd think he hadn't even grown a beard yet, seems as green as a smooth-face."
"Oh, who's this now?" I asked good-naturedly as I poured refills. Normally I wouldn't engage in much conversation with the dwarven guests, simply because they typically seemed to wish to keep to themselves, often just nodding to get my attention and grumbling a quick thank you - if I was lucky. This group, however, was much more socially spirited - not that I was surprised. Either by Bofur's presence, or simply because Bofur would choose to surround himself with a more energetic calibre of dwarves to partake in after-hours drinking with, the group seemed keen to engage in friendly exchanges and banter with anyone who dared approach them.
"Harrik's understudy, if you'd call him that." A black haired dwarf replied as he held up his empty mug for me to fill. "Poor lad likely won't have much of a beard left after his trainin', no doubt stress'll be doing him in with such a dour instructor."
Harrik grunted something which made the others laugh as I moved next to Bofur, who said he'd pay for the round. It seemed they were taking turns, which made it far easier not having to collect proper fare from every dwarf after each refill.
"Don't forget to tip our nice server." one of the others piped up before busying himself in his drink.
Bofur counted out a few copper coins from his purse, just enough to cover the cost of the drinks, and then cast a sidelong glance up at me from beneath the brow of his hat. I smiled my sweetest smile in return.
"Go on then, Bofur. Be generous with the lass, or I'll tell your - ah - betrothed you've been unkind to a fellow Laketowner." Harrik encouraged.
Bofur rolled his eyes and swept the copper back into his pouch, then reached a hand into his breast pocket and drew out a heavy coin of gold from his coat, setting it pointedly down on the table while eyeing Harrik admonishingly. He then looked up to me and matched my own smile.
"I believe this should cover it - and all the rounds to come, plus a tidy bit besides for you and the owners to split."
During the search for the Arkenstone, I had tossed handfuls of gold aside like it was worth less than dirt. I had climbed mountains of the stuff that were taller than most houses, ate, slept and even had intimate relations all within sight of more gold than I could ever have dreamed existed. I had danced on a floor of it larger than an entire district in Laketown. I had, in short, been exposed to it for months of my life on end, and yet here the shiny yellow metal was like a magnet drawing the eyes of those sober enough to catch sight of it. This was more than I would make in an entire month working at the tavern, and to my credit I recovered quick enough to make a show of it.
"Oh golly..." I whispered, quickly picking up the coin to hide it in my hand. My face lit up as I inspected it, and the dwarves around the table shared a chuckle at what they supposed was genuine shock.
"Is this real dragon gold?" I asked with as much bewilderment as I could fake, looking around at the group of dwarves. Bofur had crossed his arms and leaned back, a smug grin on his face and a mischievous twinkle in his eye, feeling himself awfully clever no doubt. I would have swatted him in the arm if I could have gotten away with it, but as it was he would be allowed to have his fun.
"Real dwarven gold." The black haired dwarf corrected, and then the one who had encouraged Bofur to tip placed a hand on that dwarf's arm.
"Now now, no need to lecture, less we wish to live up to our cranky reputation - mind if we do, the next time we're in the village, we might find ourselves without a place to warm our bellies." The others nodded to themselves at this sage dwarven advice, and the gentlemanly dwarf continued with a kind smile that tugged up the corners of his beard. "Now then, my dear, what might we call you?"
"Eleanor..." I began by way of introduction, though the name seemed to come from more than one place at the same time. I looked around, realized there were more tables to wait, and apologized hastily. "I'm sorry, I really shouldn't neglect the others for so long. Thank you for your generous patronage." I added while looking at Bofur, ending a very rough courtesy for effect. He nodded his head in response, which I took it to mean 'well done'.
Maybe, just maybe, he could be convinced that I was up to this task after all.
The tavern grew steadily busier as the evening wore on, and I found I had hardly any time to spare, let alone time to puzzle out what I was going to do about Bofur being here. The most rational thing to do was to simply carry on like it was any other night, and he any other patron, but I felt as though that would be an awful waste of an opportunity to talk to the one I loved, and to reconnect with all that I was beginning to long for - to remind myself of all that I was trying to protect by being here.
A trained spy would no doubt frown on us even being in the same room together, lest someone unveil the connection between us just by association. Still, I couldn't foresee any chance of speaking to him privately, and to do so publically would risk exposing my real identity. Besides, the lute player was on point tonight, and the crowd was growing raucous as the evening grew late and the tables filled with folks looking to stave off the chill and dreariness of a long winter night.
With each round of drinks the din of the tavern became louder, and the patrons became more restless. Men and women, some who had no business standing, let alone walking at this point, scraped their chairs across the floor, banged on tables, and shouted bets on whatever game of chance was being played in their part of the room. The musician seemed to be keeping up with them though, the melodies he played still first and foremost amongst the din, but I couldn't help but wonder at the abuse his instrument must be going through in order to produce such volume, and sure enough after a particularly noisy bout in which a game of cards nearly erupted into a fist fight, one of the bard's strings broke with a discordant twang that resonated throughout the tavern.
The sudden silence that resonated afterwards was jarring, as the crowd struggled to adjust to the lack of the music which had been so prominent since the beginning of the night. Even the near-brawl was avoided, and I, having been busy filling a drink when the event happened, came very close to spilling beer all over myself. I hastily twisted the tap closed and used the moment's stillness to deliver the overflowing drink to the one who had ordered it without much risk.
As I set the drink down, the musician struck the chords of a familiar drinking song, one that had been played often back in Bree. It was a simple song, and easily achievable with a missing string. Its simplicity also made it a natural favourite of people too far into their cups to remember anything but the simplest of tunes. A hearty cheer rang throughout the room, and in the rush of excitement I noticed with some humour that half of the drink I had just delivered was now sloshed all over the table where it sat.
The lutesmith played the tune with no small degree of skill, his nimble fingers more than making up for the broken string as his voice rang out, accompanied by those patrons drunk enough to join in on the first round. I made my way back to the bar, where I noticed Hall was one of the few not hanging on every note of every verse.
"Hall, if you're still unimpressed by the fellow, I'm going to insist you put your money where your mouth is. Why don't you go fetch your lute? No doubt he would welcome a challenge from such a worthy opponent." I raised my eyebrows suggestively, but Hall shook his head.
"A lute? What makes you think I own a lute?" He questioned with a furrowed brow.
"Oh, I just assumed you did since you were so quick to criticize the poor man when you arrived... besides, I could picture you having an artistic side-hobby, you're very sensitive, you know. Perhaps you play the harp instead, or a crumhorn maybe?"
Hall squinted at me. "No. Wait - you think I'm sensitive? I've been called a lot of things, but never sensitive. Do you think I'm too sensitive?"
"Oh don't trouble yourself, I was simply teasing you." I huffed with a small laugh. I noticed then that Bofur's table was mostly emptied, save for Bofur himself and one other dwarf at the far end. The rest had vacated their seats for the time being in order to join in with the lively singing around the fire.
I left Hall to his indignation and wandered over to my intended, grabbing out my cleaning cloth from my apron so that I would have an excuse to linger at his table.
As I approached, Bofur looked up, and only I noticed his eyes quickly travel the length of my body, yet it was warm and rather dim inside, so even if I did flush, no one would be the wiser.
"So, Eleanor, was it?" he ventured slowly.
I moved close beside him and began wiping up some of the nearby spills. "Hush." I warned quietly, keeping my eyes to my work. "I've missed you." I added in the quietest of whispers, knowing he had good enough hearing to pick up my words even through the boisterous music and loud drunken conversations that were playing out around us.
"Then come home." he replied under his breath.
I paused in my cleaning and shook my head slightly. "Just a little longer. I think I'm really onto something." I murmured.
He was quiet for a moment before he spoke again, leaning forward slightly to be nearer to me. "What are you doing?" he asked rather imploringly. "You told me once you never wanted to work in a place like this again... what do you think you can you accomplish here?"
I sighed and did not respond. I knew a part of him was right, and that fact infuriated me. I could easily choose to give all of my collected information to the dwarves and then just leave it to the professionals, so to speak. After all, I was spending a needless amount of time simply working at the tavern and gaining very little useful information doing so. Yet I also knew that leaving Dale now, when I might be so close to achieving something purposeful, would leave me forever feeling like this entire span of my life was wasted and without conclusion.
I noticed the crowd had begun a course of a new song that caused even more rowdiness than the last. I knew I'd soon be needed to refill drinks; it was looking to be a very profitable night.
I looked up, finally meeting Bofur's gaze. Even though I was frustrated with him, his gleaming eyes caused a small pool of desire to bloom within me and I fought the urge to close the distance between us. I wanted to bury my nose in his jacket, and inhale his familiar, comforting scent that I so sorely missed. I wanted to press my lips to his and forget the world through his touch. I wanted him to speak to me, unguarded, and utter my true name. I wanted him, badly, and it took most of my resolve to resist.
I licked my lips, gripping my cleaning cloth in a vice. Bofur grinned slyly as if he could read my thoughts, though I could tell by his expression that he was slightly drunk. His following actions paid testament to my assumption. Before I could back away, his arm curled around my waist and he tugged me down onto his lap. I stifled a shriek and struggled to get up.
"Let me go!" I hissed as he nuzzled into my neck. "You're going to ruin everything!"
"Nah, I'm just a tipsy guest that's a bit handsy with the wenches, no one will pay any mind... unless you keep struggling that is." Bofur said into my ear and I calmed a little at his words, deciding it really was best not to make a scene - and I did truly enjoy the feel of his arms around me after so long apart.
"That's better." he commented happily, his hand gripping my thigh over my skirts.
"Tipsy is right." I grumbled, still feeling quite panicky that this display would jeopardize my identity. "I'm cutting you off. Now please, let me up before you blow my cover."
Fortunately Bofur conceded and relaxed his arm. I quickly got to my feet and straightened up, though Bofur gently took hold of my hand before I moved off. I looked at him more gently, though my composure was still tense with agitation at his careless intimacy when I was trying so hard to be anonymous.
"I could meet you, back where you're staying, I would be careful. No one would know I was there." he proposed and his hopefulness made my heart sink with guilt.
I shook my head at him again, it would be too risky.
I inwardly cringed when I heard Hall's voice erupt from just beside us.
"Hey, is this guy bothering you?" he asked loudly.
I grimaced, and Bofur's eyebrows shot up, then we both looked at the interference with a mixture of incredulity and annoyance.
Hall frowned at Bofur a moment before his glance jumped back to me. I quickly shook my head, trying to glare at him with such conviction that he might let it alone for once. Bofur, much to my chagrin, decided to speak up.
"I suggest you leave us be, lad." he said in a rather dark tone. I shot him a look, but he was staring at Hall rather threateningly, no doubt his boldness being fuelled by the drink.
Hall, mistaking the cause of my clear discomfort, stepped forward slightly in front of me."Look buddy, this is a nice place. Good, hard working men and women looking to have a drink after work, and I'm sure a lot of us would agree that while your kind is welcome, we won't tolerate - ah - lewd behaviour here."
"Welcome, eh? My kind is welcome, is it? And as for lewd behaviour, what would you know of it, lad?" Bofur asked icily, heaving himself up out of his chair with an ease that was shocking in his inebriated state. "Since I've come in, I've seen all manner of men and women engaged in lewd behaviour. There's a pair in the corner who are just one layer of clothing away from copulating on the table, for Durin's sake, and yet I'm to take that the moment a dwarf has words with one of your women, you feel the need to come running to her rescue?"
Hall, to his credit, stood his ground. Bofur's posture was solid as a mountain, challenging, and yet Hall stood firm. Maybe I fed him one too many ciders earlier in the night. In any case, he seemed determined to push his case. I resisted the urge to pull my own hair in frustration as I watched the exchange quickly get out of hand.
"It looked like a lot more than words." he pointed out, a scowl forming across his features.
"It's none of your business." Bofur growled. "And unless you're one of the owners of this fine establishment, I would urge you to keep it that way."
Hall puffed up even more but before he could do anything stupid I cut him off.
"Hall, please, I'm fine. Go back to your seat." I stressed, hoping to diffuse the situation before the two idiots drew even more attention to me.
"But-" he began, but I put my hands on my hips and scowled at him as resolutely as I could.
"Go!" I snapped.
With slightly sagged shoulders we watched Hall turn and disappear into the crowd towards the bar. I rounded on Bofur, who had returned to his seat but was still harbouring a dark expression.
"Who was that?" he asked carefully.
"Nobody," I whispered angrily, "And I thank you for nearly starting a fight. Are you trying to oust me right here and now? Do you want me to look like a complete fool in front of all these people? ...I think you need to leave."
Bofur smiled somewhat lazily, his eyes guarded, and got to his feet once more. "As you wish." he said and then strolled past me towards the door without another word or backward glance.
I stood rooted to the spot for a moment, feeling a chill of emotion pass through me. I then hurried up to the bar to see Cuthbert and Avis looking quite harried and sweaty from the evening of relentless business so far. I squeezed in between the drinking men and carefully leaned over the now very sloppy, wet bar-top to address Avis.
"The guest that just left, he'd forgotten something at his table." I told her, pointedly ignoring Hall who was watching me from nearby. "Can I run out and try to catch him? I'll just be a moment, and he tipped us well so it seems only fair."
She nodded and shooed me off so I quickly dashed out the door, not quite prepared for the onslaught of snowy frigid wind that hit me the moment I exited the hot tavern. The weather had turned foul since I had started my shift. I crossed my arms and squinted into the night, taking a few uncertain steps forward. I followed what seemed to be the freshest set of footprints and when I turned down a more sheltered side street I saw Bofur's form some ways ahead. The area was otherwise empty, the wind quite loud, so I shouted his name without much fear of being overheard by anyone else. He stopped and turned towards me as I ran up to him.
"What are you doing?" he asked in a surprised tone, though some of his usual cheer was once again lacing his voice as his hands came up to rub my cold arms. I bent a little and pressed a hard kiss to his mouth.
"I'm sorry," I lamented when I pulled back. "please stop being angry with me. Just give me a little longer?"
"Hey, now. I'm not angry with you." he assured, leading me closer to the aged walls of the buildings lining the street to better be out of the wind. "If it's that important to you, then stay, just promise me you won't put yourself at risk."
I nodded, knowing I just needed to confirm the identities of the men I suspected. I knew that if I lingered much longer, the temptation to invite him back to my house would grow too great, and so I planted one last soft kiss on his lips, and then turned to dash back towards the inn without another word.