A while later, after the Acolyte returned to ensure her new charge was nursing effectively and otherwise hale and healthy, she informed me that she would be leaving me in the care of the midwife, stating that she herself was under orders to report back to the Healer as soon as possible - no matter the outcome.
"Bed rest, and lots of it." she ordered, looking at me sternly after a final examination. "You've been through a difficult labour and so your body will take considerable time to recover. It's important to not do anything that might increase your bleeding throughout the next week, though a full month in bed would not go amiss. Maybe even two. Don't push yourself."
Bofur assured her that I wouldn't have to lift a finger for anything and she nodded approvingly. She exchanged a few more words with the midwife and handed her a piece of parchment she had been making notes upon before finally making her departure. The midwife seemed to have taken her unwanted mentorship under the dwarrowdam to heart, and once the opportunity presented itself and the bairn was soundly asleep in Bofur's arms, she offered to help me get cleaned up. I allowed her to slowly guide me to my feet, where she assisted in changing me into a fresh gown and heavily lined undergarments before replacing the bed linens for a third time. She brushed my hair back into a quick plait before fetching a bowl of fresh, warm water and a clean cloth to wipe my face with. I still didn't feel entirely refreshed, so I used the cloth to then lightly scrub up my arms and around my neck. The midwife glanced at me somewhat sympathetically and promised that in a few days I might be able to have a more proper bath,
Once I was settled back into bed, I relieved Bofur of his precious charge and fed her once more, this time with a bit more ease than the last, as the baby and I grew more accustomed to each other. Then, as she dozed off, the midwife offered to move the bairn to a bassinet for a time, just to allow me the freedom to get some proper, well deserved rest. My face must have betrayed some hesitancy as she then assured me the baby would be perfectly safe and well within reach.
"I'll watch over her." Bofur also added gently as I, somewhat reluctantly, passed the babe up to the midwife who checked her swaddle blanket and then settled her into the nearby basket.
I looked to him, and, knowing that he could indeed forgo sleep when needed, felt some comfort that I might be able to rest while he stayed up to keep an eye on her.
The midwife then drew the curtains shut to block out the final rays of the setting sun, and bid us goodnight, saying she would come back in the morning to check in on us once more, but that she could be summoned anytime if needed before then. We both thanked her and she gave a small wave before quietly ducking out of the room.
I glanced towards the small, sleeping form near the foot of my bed, then bit my lip as I looked back to Bofur.
"You'll wake me if she needs anything?" I asked him, knowing that he would, but still wanting the additional security of his word.
He took up my hand for a moment and nodded. "Aye, lass, I promise. Try to sleep a little. I'll be right here."
I sighed slightly in relief and shuffled onto my side, allowing my eyelids to flutter shut. I was sore all over, and especially between my legs there was a raw burn of an ache that was very difficult to ignore, yet I felt oddly light. I slowly and experimentally stretched about for a moment, reveling in the sensation of no longer having a large, pregnant belly weighing down my middle and putting pressure on my core. The alleviation was such a comfort to my body that, despite the pain of labour still so fresh, I was able to relax enough to finally succumb to a much needed sleep.
I remember being roused a few times as Bofur placed the baby next to me to nurse, which we discovered was easy enough to accomplish if I remained laying on my side and just left the laces to my gown fully undone - then I was able to remain half asleep for the much of the process, after which Bofur would take the infant to burp and rock, and I could simply tuck back under my blanket and continue to rest more peacefully and without worry.
I didn't care to keep track of time or how long my spans of rest were, for I was so easily able to fall back into slumber that it did not seem to matter. At one point I felt a pang of hunger upon waking, which I mentioned to Bofur. While the baby nursed, he disappeared for a moment to see if anyone from the household was still awake and shortly returned saying that Méra was still up visiting with a few members of Hall's family downstairs and she assured him that she'd make sure something suitable was sent up.
I hadn't even known Méra had traveled back with Bofur and commented about her presence.
"Aye, she was likely the only reason the Healer's acolyte was, ah, encouraged to attend. You know how persuasive she can be. That, and I'm not sure they could rightly refuse a direct request from a royal family member." Bofur added, tilting his head. "It's a rare thing that, to have such a loyal friend. Never take it for granted."
I hummed my agreement, knowing I owed Erebor's princess a great deal, now likely including my life and that of my child's. It was a sobering thought.
A quarter of an hour later, a light knock on the door heralded the delivery of not just one platter of food, but several, actually an entire trolley's worth of food and drink which was wheeled in by Quinton - who appeared only slightly disheveled at the late hour even though his mannerisms were as courteous and composed as ever.
My appetite, I discovered, was actually much larger than I had anticipated it would be and I had no problem finishing a large assorted serving that Bofur plated up for me. Fortunately Méra had likely suggested that enough be brought up for the both of us, knowing that Bofur had missed a few meals himself as well, as there was so much leftover after I had eaten my fill that he was able to help himself to a large, albeit late supper as well.
Another curiosity was also beginning to take form: to my surprise I found I was perpetually thirsty, to an almost ridiculous degree. I had to ask for numerous refills of my water mug in short order before Bofur went to fetch a few extra pitchers and cups so that I might have an assembly of filled water vessels ready to be handed to me at a moment's notice.
"I don't know why I'm so parched." I whispered to Bofur in slight exasperation as I polished off another cup.
"No surprise really." he commented as he relinquished the empty stoneware from me and placed it beside the others. "You'll be needing a lot more nourishment now that you'll be nursing a bairn, and you also lost a lot of-" Bofur cut himself short, glancing at me then down to the floor, as if he didn't want to bring up any of the more disquieting memories from the previous day.
"Blood." I finished for him in a hushed tone. I could still feel it. The blood slowly seeping from my body, worse than any monthly cycle I'd ever had. The Acolyte had instructed me to keep careful eye on how quickly I was soaking through my underclothes and had also left herbs for a tea to continue taking periodically for a few days time to help control it. I didn't want to dwell on how close to peril I might have been if it hadn't been for the Acolyte's expert interventions.
"You should try to get more sleep while the little one is quiet." Bofur murmured after a moment, moving to extinguish a few of the candles. "I'll watch over you both."
I nodded and lay back down, I was feeling some cramping in my midsection, but eventually it subsided enough that I was able to drift off to the deep, soothing sounds of Bofur humming some half remembered lullaby to the baby.
After what seemed like a somewhat longer stretch that took us through the remainder of the night, I awoke to the sound of familiar voices about me, and while my discomfort was undeniable, with my body still in the early stages of recovery after what was the most strenuous of all the ordeals I had ever faced, it was the first time in days that I felt unafraid, and so I lay motionless with a fond smile spreading across my lips, allowing my senses some time to return to me while the voices carried on.
"-and still we're expected to believe that the corsair managed to restring her corset, button her petticoat and hide the body of the unconscious guard in the hallway all before the Count returned? Preposterous. The Countess should have been still undressed from the waist up if the tale followed any real logic."
"The Countess." Hall scoffed. "Who even writes an entire novella without naming their protagonist?"
"A lazy author, that's who." Bofur agreed emphatically, clearly sharing the same conviction. "All we're given is 'The Countess', that's it! That's all we get, and then we're left with a story that desperately scrambles to avoid ever giving a real name… I'd wager he thinks he's real clever though."
"Oh they all do." Hall agreed, to which Bofur made a noise of acknowledgement and then both fell into what could only be described as an amiable silence, into which I finally allowed my eyes to open, though I had to lift a hand to allow them time to adjust in the perpetual twilight of a room with most of the blinds drawn. They were standing at the only open window, Hall closest to the glass with Bofur slightly back and off to one side. Both now focused on the new coming morning of the world abroad rather than the notorious book - no doubt critiqued into submission - that lay open on the windowsill before them.
"Look at the two of you finally agreeing about something." I mused, and then promptly quipped: "I must have died after all." I tried to prop myself up a bit better, and being unhappy with how my voice had sounded raspy and unfamiliar, I cleared my throat before continuing. "Who would have guessed my skills as a diplomat would be outshone by a smutty work of fiction."
Both of them hid their obvious happiness at my heightened spirits with all the bravado I had come to expect from the pair of them. With a look of offense (which I noted was comically in contrast to his earlier critique), Hall objected to the crass classification of the work. "I'll have you know in the salons of Dal Amroth the book is heralded as a profound insight into the uttermost depth of human emotion."
Bofur retrieved the book, and holding it up in the window's light he flipped to a page completely at random, cleared his throat and read in his drollest voice possible "-'please' I begged 'lay me down on yon poop deck so thou might sheath thy lengthy saber deep into mine aching'-"
"Bofur! There are innocent ears present." I hissed between a bout of laughter that I struggled to contain, both to keep the newborn from stirring and to spare my body the strain of the act itself.
"Very profound indeed." he commented with a grin, setting the book down again before gravitating to my side once more. We stared at each other, and as the moment drew on and our minds caught up with all that had happened, the levity of the room was tempered with solemnity.
Hall, sensing the shift in mood, excused himself, and then we were alone for the first time since before I had fled the mountain, since he brewed the Healer's medicinal tea…
We both knew we could not go on acting as if everything were normal, pretending as if the past few months hadn't occurred. It had been a necessity while the danger of a difficult birth had been jeopardizing my very existence, and a boon for the immediate rest required after such, but now we had to address the uncomfortable truth of what our relationship had witnessed as of late, and figure out how exactly to reconcile it, if it were even possible to do so.
"May I speak…?" Bofur asked, perching himself on the edge of my bed where he looked uncertainly from me, to our daughter nestled in the bassinet on the far side, then back to me.
My body shivered and goosebumps rose across my skin. I was anxious, anxious that this moment, the moment I had tucked away in the deepest corner of my heart for fear that if it didn't come it would destroy me, might now finally become a reality. Anxious of what I would say, how I would react. He might have the courage to ask for my forgiveness, but would I have the courage to grant it if he should truly sway my mind? I steeled myself, and for the sake of my daughter if not for myself, I nodded and he took a deep breath. For what felt like forever, or maybe just a heartbeat, he was silent, and then he swallowed and started down the path toward redemption.
"I was afraid…" he began, "Afraid of accepting what my heart knew to be true. That it was my child… and of what would happen if you hadn't the strength to bear it…" he fell silent, and I reached out to touch him on the forearm. If he was finally willing to try, to try to fight for me, to explain his side of the story, then I would be here for him. He looked up at me then with eyes full of heartbreak so strong that I felt my own lurch in sympathy - somehow even worse than the look my mother had the day she told me of my father, more agonizing than the look the Company had worn in unison the day their king and his heirs had met their maker; truly the look of a shattered man who had lost everything, and who was at risk of losing everything again.
"I hope you can come to understand... It was as if I was standing on the cliffside a lifetime ago, watching my wife fall into the raging river, instead of just imagining it. Only this time, it would be you… and what's worse," he sobbed, but choked out the rest. "I was responsible… it would have been as terrible as if I had pushed her into the abyss myself."
"But you didn't." I countered, my hand trailing down to give his fingers a comforting squeeze. I spoke softly, as I wasn't certain I had any authority to be talking about her, still it needed to be said if I had a chance of bringing him back from the darkness. "You weren't responsible for her fate… any more than you were responsible for mine."
There was another spell of tense silence, yet when I felt him finally relax into my touch, I asked the question that was weighing on my mind.
"Why did you come in the end? What changed your mind?"
"Dwarves don't die in cliff-slides." Bofur stated with a sad smile, meeting eyes with mine. "When I was first told, I couldn't accept it, any more than I could the thought of you bearing my bairn. But this world is wide. And wild, and unpredictable, and magical… and there are awful, and wonderful, and impossible things that happen every day. Our journey in particular seemed to be a lodestone for the impossible and unlikely, wouldn't you say?"
His hand settled comfortably around my own then and he sat back slightly, taking on the somewhat distant expression as was normal when he went into story-telling mode.
"Just think," he continued, the corners of his mouth turning up into almost a grin, "of all the generations we dwarves have been delving into the rock, you and I are among the first in all recorded memory to have seen the stone giants firsthand. And if Azog's aim had been just a few inches off, you would have been pierced through the chest." His other hand then came up to brush aside the collar of my gown, exposing the white scar below my right shoulder. He rubbed the back of one finger gently across it, looking solemn for a moment. "Oín, or I dare say even Gandalf wouldn't have been able to mend a punctured lung, or worse, a pierced heart." he added gravely, before drawing back and shaking his head slightly. "Yet you survived, only to be flown to safety by one of the secretive eagles of old… And until we met Beorn, I would have thought anyone who saw a skinchanger was too deep in his cups, and yet you befriended the beast himself. And Balin, our esteemed historian, said Thranduil's dungeons were inescapable, yet a hobbit from the Shire of all people, managed it with hardly a hitch - after saving us from giant spiders besides. Not only that, we did what we set out to do when everyone thought it a fool's quest - twelve dwarves, a halfling and a human girl retrieved the legendary Arkenstone from right under the nose of the last great dragon of the known world, though admittedly we had some help from your friend Bard who did the impossible in his own right and brought down the beast with a simple longbow… You bargemen really are a breed above the rest."
He shot me a wink before leaning in close once more. He then seemed to ponder his next words, looking at me more seriously while the light of a dying twinkle in his eyes flickered somewhere in their depths. "If Bard could accomplish such a feat, and all that we once thought impossible was becoming possible, I realized you, of all people, should be able to do the impossible too… and if not, if the worst were to come to pass, well, your oaf of a friend only had to set me straight: I would have regretted it for all the remainder of my long years left on this earth, had I not been here with you."
His voice took on a strained quality as he finished speaking, and he took a moment to clear his throat and compose himself. I didn't quite trust myself to reply as I tried to fully process his words, a slight lump forming in my throat, so I remained silent and eventually he carried on.
"There's one other thing I once thought impossible, you know. I didn't dare to think we would ever get here," he began, almost tentatively, though he reached his hand up to brush his thumb against my cheek. "I found love where it wasn't supposed to be. I wasn't allowed to fall in love with you, and I fought it - since the moment I met you, I had to fight to not love you. I almost lost you, so many times, because I was too stubborn to realize the truth." He met my eye then before continuing. "I know now that I should have moved mountains for you, right from the start, I should have fought for us to be together every step of the way, because you are my One. The One I was always meant to have."
I stared at him as my breath escaped me in a slight whoosh.
Throughout our courtship and our wedding, everyone had always been so concerned with Bofur having already had his chance at love, and while he had remained unwavering in his devotion to me, he never said the words outright. I came to accept that I was and would always be the 'second', an afterthought, a second chance for companionship and maybe even love on his part, but still just a shadow of what was true, what came first, what I believed I could never live up to.
But there it was, out in the open at last.
Tears started to well in my eyes and I definitely couldn't trust myself to speak lest I become an incoherent, weeping, bumbling wreck that would certainly awaken our sleeping infant.
"I want to raise our child together, if you'll still allow me to," Bofur continued, "and I vow that I will cherish our daughter more than all the gold in the world, more than elves love their starlight, more than… Bombur loves food…" he took in a shuddering breath and let the hopeful ghost of a smile tug at one corner of his lips, which I returned with a sob and a smile of my own.
"But more than that… I thought I could be happy without a babe - a bairn was only something I wanted, but could be happy without. But you, amrâlimê, you are a need, as much I need blood in my veins, air in my lungs." His voice was raw, begging now for me to understand. His eyes were wide, rimmed with tears of their own. His thumb shakily wiped the tears from my cheek, and more replaced them. "I need you. I was so afraid that if I lost you forever, I would lose all that I have left of myself… and the fool I am, I was so afraid to take a risk, and to trust you, that I fear now that my actions have caused me to lose you already… I cannot expect you to ever forgive me for it."
I drew in a deep breath and tried to calm myself, thinking over his words for what felt like an eternity. Bofur, to his credit, remained quiet and still, giving me the time I needed to weigh all he said against his actions. And then, finally, I leaned into him and into his shoulder I murmured my response.
"You haven't lost us… not for good."
He sighed, a long held breath, and I felt some tension leave his body. His hand stroked up my back, while his other one gripped my own, and we sat together quietly for a moment.
"I'm not afraid anymore…" he promised after a while, pulling back just enough to look me in the eyes. "…and if you would take me, I would have you, both of you, for as long as you are here with me. I can't make up for lost time, but I can promise you my love - my pure, unyielding, impossible love, for every moment we have left; a lifetime, a year, a day, even a single heartbeat if that's all we get."
I smiled, but with the whimper of our waking daughter I knew I would have to leave off on the long road to recovery once again. I dried my eyes with the back of a hand and sniffed.
"You'll have us for a lot longer than that, Bofur Broadbeam - at least long enough to change that one - you've done well enough cleaning up your own mess for one night, now you'd best tend to hers and bring her to me."
The following morning heralded the expected midwife visit. She came in bearing a very large basket of what appeared to be an assortment of linens, and smiled at my raised eyebrows.
"Your hosts had me put together some supplies you'll be needing!" she explained with a flourish before setting it down in the corner of the room. "You know, nappies, receiving blankets, baby gowns, nursing pads, extra garments for you." she added with a knowing look. "Speaking of, how is your bleeding?"
She then carried out her examination, feeling my abdomen and asking me a few more personal questions. Afterwards she inspected the baby from head to foot, proclaiming her reflexes seemed normal, her umbilical cord - tied with strand of sinew and cut some time after birth - looked fine, and upon asking a few questions about her feedings and changings, she nodded and told us that overall everything seemed hale and healthy, and as it should be.
She finished her visit by going over a paper she'd used during the Acolyte's visit, upon which she had written down time of birth along with all the measurements and weights, which she had added to during today's visit. Promising to return in a week (if all was well and she wasn't needed earlier, that is), she left me again with compliments on a job well done as a new mother, and congratulations for a healthy and happy baby.
As the day progressed, I was able to indulge in a nap around midday while Bofur kept visitors and disturbances at bay. Yet by late afternoon there was a slightly louder knock upon the door. I was sitting up, feeding the baby, and so Bofur went to peek out to investigate. The voice behind it carried inside, clearly on purpose, and while dripping with politeness it had an ever so slightly irritated edge to it.
"You know, Bofur, as a princess I don't have much experience with waiting… and while I'll admit these fine folk have more personality than all of the dwarrowdams in Erebor put together, I'm about to enthrall them with just how loud a snorer I am, if you catch my meaning. How much longer do you expect me to wait to be invited in to meet the wee bairn then?"
Bofur turned and raised his brows at me.
"Let her in of course." I announced with a grin, loudly enough for her to hear. "Everyone has been quite patient." I added as she all but burst past Bofur as soon as he widened the opening. "But I suppose we can't stay secreted away in here forever."
"Shame, that." Bofur muttered with a quick wink as he pulled out a chair for Méra, which she ignored and came to stand close by my bedside.
"Patient is right." she huffed, looking at me rather critically. "If the Acolyte hadn't assured me on her way out that you hadn't died, as it sure sounded like you may have, I would have forced my way in sooner to be sure. Your human hosts, however, were quite insistent that we all give you both some privacy."
With that she quieted as she then looked down at the now sleeping form in my arms, and her face took on an expression as reverent as I'd ever seen on her.
"It's a girl." I told her, unsure if the Acolyte or midwife would have mentioned that to anyone in the household.
She sucked in her breath slightly and then smiled. "Aye, she's perfect. A true blessing."
Then came another light rapping at the door. "Oh, I requested a few refreshments be brought up." Méra added as she swirled around to go open it herself.
Quinton rolled in a restocked cart with tea and what appeared to be a selection of lunch items and dainties. Behind him Flora took a tentative step inside with Mabel on her heels carrying a large vase with some fresh flowers - though where they had sourced some so late in the season I could only guess.
"Are we disturbing you, dear?" Flora asked as Quinton bowed then ducked out after parking the serving cart.
"No, no, come in." I said, feeling slightly self conscious in my unwashed, slightly milk soaked, very tired and bedridden state - yet reminding myself that Flora had witnessed and helped me through much of my labour, which surely must have been worse to behold.
Mabel headed over to place the fresh decor on my dresser and then tugged the blinds open slightly wider, letting in a few crisp rays of sun.
Bofur and Méra busied themselves pouring tea and sampling the food while Flora edged up closer to take a peek at the baby.
"May I?" she asked gently, holding out her arms.
Trusting that Hall's mother likely knew what she was doing more than I did, I felt no trepidation obliging her request even though I was slightly taken aback by it. I fumbled for a moment but then managed to safely pass over my dozy newborn into her arms. She adjusted then cradled the babe with an ease and comfort that must have come from the countless hours of experience from having had four of her own.
"How much does she weigh?" Flora enquired while starting a slow, lilting walk around the room.
"Just shy of ten pounds I think it was." I told her, then waved towards the side table. "It's all recorded there on that paper."
Flora sidled over towards it, humming lightly under her breath as she glanced down at the notes. Her daughter joined her there to read them as well.
"Isn't that a bit big for a newborn?" Mabel asked and her mother hushed her, but then, after glancing at me and seeing me looking at her curiously but with no offense in my expression, she addressed the both of us.
"She's a bit heavier than average, especially being your first." she added, giving me a slight sympathetic grin, then she smiled down at the infant. "She sure doesn't quite look it though, see how tiny her little hands are?" she asked Mabel, who reached out with her own to stroke along the baby's fingers that were peeking out through the blanket.
Bofur then brought me a cup of tea steeped with the herbs the Acolyte had left behind and Méra finally pulled up a chair sporting her own drink and a plate of food, which she proffered me first. I snagged an egg tart and made mental note of several tasty looking desserts that I would tell Bofur to grab for me after I ate a few healthier items first.
I heard my little one let out a few fussy noises and Flora gently bounced her way over to the light of the window.
"Oh, she's slowly waking." she said, cooing down at the bairn. "Have you decided on a name yet?" Flora asked, still peering down at her while slowly swaying her from side to side.
I frowned and cast my gaze to Bofur, who didn't seem to have anything to say on the matter and just raised a brow back at me.
"Umm no, not yet, honestly I hadn't really thought too hard on it quite yet." I told her somewhat sheepishly. "I guess we do need to decide soon."
"Oh there's no rush dear, it took me four days to settle on a name for Rosalin, and sometimes you can have one all picked out but then when you meet the babe in the end it just doesn't suit, so then you're back to the drawing board anyway."
I felt some relief upon hearing that. Truly everything was so new to me, I wasn't sure about the expectations and timelines of it all. I reasoned that I hadn't even let myself think about names because, firstly, I was in such turmoil about Bofur's absence in the last trimester of pregnancy, and it felt like too light and happy a thing to compile a name list without his involvement. Secondly, near the end I began to have doubts that I would even survive to name my baby at all, and while labouring the only thing that dominated my mind was pain. Then, when it was over, I was just so exhausted and so did not have the mental capacity for much thought otherwise. And besides the heavy conversation with Bofur this morning, there really hadn't been much time to discuss much of anything else yet.
"How unique!" Flora suddenly exclaimed and I looked back towards her. She was staring down at my daughter and then moved her closer towards the sunlight, peering down at her little face even more closely for a moment before glancing back at me with an expression of surprise. "I think she has brown eyes! I've never seen a fair child whose eyes were not dark blue at birth, I thought all newborns always had blue."
Méra got up then and sauntered towards the window as well. "No. Not true. Well all dwarven bairns start out with brown eyes, brown like the earth from which our spirits are akin with." she commented, then held out her arms to relieve Flora of the babe and have a turn herself. Méra studied her as well then nodded. "Aye. Brown. Like her father's." she added with a grin and a nod towards Bofur.
Flora quickly looked between Bofur and myself with an unreadable expression, and then nodded. "Indeed." she agreed, her voice somewhat wistful, as if she were only now coming to believe that the infant was truly of mixed blood.
My daughter, finally seeming to sense that she'd been passed around a few times but was still not back with her mother, let out a more earnest squall of a cry and so Méra quickly swooped back towards me and gently placed the babe back into my waiting arms.
"We'll take our leave now and let you rest." Flora said, beckoning Mabel to her side. "Please don't hesitate to ask if you need anything at all."
I smiled graciously at her and nodded as I began to prepare to nurse. "Thank you, Flora. For everything." I added weightily before she left, knowing I could truly never repay Hall and his generous family for all that they had done for me. Flora simply smiled in return and dipped her head before ushering her daughter out before her.
Méra regained her seat, and her plate, and was just tucking into a small fruit cake when she suddenly stopped and looked at me.
"Oy, you don' mind if I stay, d'yah?" she questioned somewhat incoherently, using her hand to stem some of the escaping crumbs while she tried to talk with her mouth full of dessert.
I snorted a small laugh and shook my head. "No of course not, clearly you need a break from the courtesies of tea time."
Méra finished up her bite and nodded. "You'd be a drab tired too if you had to stand on ceremony for two days straight." Her voice then took on a mocking, lilting imitation that I assumed was supposed to be her mother from a past lecturing, or perhaps even Dain's. "It's your responsibility as a princess of Erebor to represent our proud people with utmost pride and dignity, remember your teachings; don't chortle, don't stuff your gob, don't wipe your mouth with your sleeve, don't poke fun or talk back to your hosts no matter how much they deserve it…"
Bofur raised an eyebrow from over the mountain of desserts he had been precariously stacking on a tiny tea plate. "You and I clearly had different tutors as children." he remarked matter of factly. "For me it was; 'laugh first and loudest so they don't think you're stupid for not getting the joke, eat heartily lest you offend the chef, don't wipe your mouth unless it's with another piece of food to save on laundry,' and 'challenge your hosts so they do a better job next time.' Oh, that last rule applied to royalty too. On that note, bad form complaining to a new mother about being tired." he added, tapping the side of his nose with a smirk and a wink at Méra before setting my plate down on my bedside table where I could easily reach it.
Méra glanced at me with a sheepish grin then bit her lip for a moment. "Aye, he's right. Sorry!" she said, reaching out and patting my knee. "Though speaking of, when you need a rest just say, I'll cuddle the babe for a while. Maybe both of you should take a wee nap? I'll be heading back to the mountain tomorrow morn', so best take advantage while I'm still here."
Bofur and I glanced at each other, and despite desperately wanting to stay awake to witness every moment of my child's first days of life, and to share it with two of the people who mattered most to me yet had been so absent these last few months, the thought of staying up all afternoon was exhausting. I yawned, making little effort to stifle it for propriety's sake, and Bofur smiled gently.
"There'll be time enough for more visiting later. Let's do as our princess commands for once, aye?" I nodded and smiled in thanks to our friend.
"Good boy. I'll take this wee one for a bit of a walk up and down the hall." Méra quipped with an impish grin, clearly pleased to get her way, but I suspected also happy to be spending more time with the baby. She rose and made her way towards the door as Bofur took a seat in the room's comfiest armchair and I curled down deep under the covers and settled in for a long overdue rest.
"Méra…" I called just before she left.
"Hmm?" She paused just at the threshold.
"You're going to make a good queen someday, and a good mother."
"Psshh." she scoffed, but from half closed eyes I didn't miss her turning to hide the flush of embarrassment she felt at the compliment. "To bed with yeh missy, ye'r clearly delusional with fatigue." she admonished, though it was softer than her usual bravado.
"Good night." I replied with a fond smile, and she left us in peace.
I half-woke sometime later to Méra sneaking back into the room with the babe making disgruntled, fussy noises. Bofur rose to receive her, whispering his thanks, and Méra added: "She's been changed - not by me for Durin's sake, don't look at my hands like that. Hall's mother did it, and even if I had I'd wash up after you ninny." I heard her scold quietly. "She's looking for a feed. I'll give you some privacy." She made a polite retreat, still unaware that I was semi-conscious, then Bofur brought our little girl my way and I slid back the covers just enough to accept her into my embrace. She rooted around for a moment, then found her mark and we both drifted off to sleep again.
When I woke the second time it seemed to be approaching sundown given the long shadows about the room and the thin beam of rich, glowing orange light that was sneaking in through a small break in the curtains. I shifted slightly and noticed that Bofur was up, exchanging quiet words with someone at the door.
"Who is it?" I whispered, trying not to wake the small form that was snuggled against my side.
He looked back to me, then nodded to whoever he was talking to, before gently shutting the door and coming back to sit next to me.
"Just the maid wondering when to have dinner sent up, I told her anytime now would be fine."
I nodded and glanced down at the small, perfect head that was peaking out of the blankets, before looking back to Bofur who had followed my gaze and was now also staring at our sleeping daughter with a soft expression on his face.
"Our lives will be so different now." I mused quietly and Bofur hummed in agreement. "This all feels somewhat like a dream… It's hard to believe that she's finally here, and that she's real, isn't it?"
Bofur met my eye and nodded, then placed a hand atop the blanket where my leg was. "Aye. And such a treasure she is."
I was quiet a moment before continuing. "It also doesn't quite feel real that you're here too. The last few months have felt like an eternity…" I trailed off and bit the inside of my cheek, knowing it would be forever difficult to let go of the bitterness that would inevitably flood my memories whenever I would think back upon my pregnancy, particularly before moving in with Hall's family.
Bofur stiffened slightly and frowned. "And I will never forgive myself for it." he retorted, louder than I'm sure he intended for the babe squirmed slightly at his words, but managed to re-settle. Bofur continued in a more hushed though no less emotive tone, his eyes boring into mine. "I know I missed such an important part of your life, and you should never have had to be alone, not for one moment of it. I should have been there… I wish I had been there." He then cast his eyes down in shame.
I also wished the same and, despite our previous talk, still felt aggrieved and slightly emotional over his absence. Yet I had already accepted him back, and so there was not much merit to continue to dwell upon it now when we had only just made peace with each other. A part of myself that I wasn't exceedingly proud of wanted to remind him how he'd hurt me simply to hurt him in return, so as to try and reach some kind of equilibrium that, in my mind, would feel fair and balanced. This was petty, of course, and I knew it was not a good strategy to rekindle our relationship with. Did I truly forgive him? I wasn't sure. Did I want him to leave again? No, certainly not. And so I forced myself to take a level breath, then reached out and found his fingers with my own. Bofur took up my hand and leant forward, placing a kiss upon my knuckles. It was strange, to try to pick up where we left off, to be given his affections and attention when I had been, just days prior, somewhat convinced I would never even see him again.
"Well, you didn't miss much, not really," I commented with a forced smile, trying desperately to lighten the mood once more, "sore feet and swelling, poor sleeps, shoveling in food in a way that could rival your brother, rather awkward positioning trying to bend over whenever I dropped something… oh, and a bit of a change to my figure, as I'm sure you noticed." I added, shrugging slightly and wondering how long it would take to look, and feel, truly like myself again. The firm round stomach of my pre-birth had been replaced with a rather gushy midsection that had no real form save for still being large, and when standing I still looked rather pregnant even though I did feel quite a bit lighter overall. The reward was well worth it, of course, even though it would take some time to feel comfortable with my body again.
Bofur picked up on my attempt to ease the tension and waggled an eyebrow. "Bending over, you say?" he asked flirtatiously and I scoffed, finding it hard to take myself too seriously when he had no scruples of his own.
"Ah yes, I had forgotten; you like to think you could charm the moon from the sky." I said dryly, rolling my eyes despite being more than a little bit charmed by the attempt at flattery. It was nice to have the attention again, even though I knew he must be just being kind.
"Oh, I actually did once." Bofur smiled cheerfully but when pressed he declined to elaborate.
"Wouldn't want you to get jealous." he explained with a wink.
I raised my brows at him then shook my head, bemused. It felt good to banter as we once did, and I had missed his silly quips more than I had even realized.
"Bofur," I said with a smile just before a knock heralded the arrival of our dinner, "I'm glad your back."
Bofur stood and kissed me on the brow. "So am I, dear One. So am I."
A/N:
I cannot believe it's been over a year since my last chapter! Sorry about that - I had another baby of my own in that time (mayhaps this part of the story has been a bit inspired by a few of my own experiences). The next few updates should be spaced much more reasonably!
Don't forget to go under your Account Settings and select Yes to Opt-In to email updates to ensure you get notified of your favourite stories' new chapter postings! Every 90 days I believe unless they've changed it again.
And, as usual, PLEASE REVIEW!
It definitely is discouraging to work so hard and long on a chapter and then be met with radio silence, then I'm not sure if anyone is still left reading so it makes me less likely to spend some free evenings (which are hard to come by) working on this! I still love it, but I want to hear from you!