After sooooo long, I am finally posting the Bofur/Bilbo sequel to both Linguistic Mysteries and A King that is not yet King! This is Bofur's point of view from the beginning of their journey until he can confess to Bilbo.
I've had this thing started for ages, but only now I managed to write the ending. Not sure if it's good, and if they are in character. They are much harder to write than Fili/Kili. As this starts, a bit before Linguistic Mysteries, you'll be seeing the dialogues between Bilbo and Bofur about the brothers from the other fic, but with Bofur interpretation.
Also, as this is a consequence from two Fili/Kili fics, I couldn't avoid inserting Bofur's view on them, and their story is heavily present here.
I hope you like, I'm not sure if I quite grasped Bofur/Bilbo essence yet. So I'll keep trying :)
I'm splitting this into two chapters to make the reading more comfortable.
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Chapter 1 - Beautiful
Bofur never considered himself to be a feast to the eyes. Oh, no. He was a rather realistic dwarf. It was not that he thought lowly of his person, he just knew the things he was good at and the things he was not good at.
Charming lassies was not something he was good at. Bombur said it was because he didn't know when to keep his mouth shut, always speaking more than he should and with the tact of a mountain troll. Bofur didn't quite see it that way, he simply liked his thoughts to be understood correctly… but indeed, that gave him a hard time with lassies. And there weren't many among their race to begin with. That would have been fine, because Bofur was not gender exclusive. A long beard rasping against his neck was just as pleasant. Except that males too didn't seem to be wrapped up by his personality.
Casual nights under dark tunnels were all that he had gotten through his life. Bombur had always been the gallant one, until he had started to braid his mourning tress, that is, not finding in himself the will to look good. And Bofur would not judge his brother… if the one love that you are supposed to have is taken from you… there really wasn't much point in being impressive to others.
By the age of 90 he gave up on trying to shut his mouth to cause good impressions, deciding that if his one would love him back, it would be because of his true self. He divided his hair in two braids and went about living his exiled life, finding work where he could, tricking his brother into breaking furniture.
And then, one night, the King comes into the tavern. Even as drunk as they were, no dwarf was stupid enough to not stand and bow as best they could. Bofur had met the back-then-prince on occasion, years ago when Erebor was still theirs, and even though he had never spent hours in conversation, he knows that if there is one dwarf in Middle-Earth that deserves his birthright, is Thorin Oakenshield.
The tavern was dead quiet when the king called upon them.
"I'm getting tired of Ered Luin." Bofur had said, breaking the silence as it was his expertise, motioning the hand the held his pipe while he thought "Might as well stretch my legs a bit and go back home."
He was the only dwarf to follow Thorin out of the tavern. The next day Bombur said yes as well and Bifur showed up next week. On the following month they met with the rest of them, slightly in awe of being in the same company as legendary dwarves as the likes of Balin, Dwalin, Oin and Gloin. Soon enough Dori, Nori and Ori arrived. By the end of two months Fili and Kili had joined them with their merry laughter in the preparations, and he couldn't help but to feel proud that he and his kin were working in the middle of the Line of Durin itself. It felt right. Like his life was going where it was supposed to be.
Surely they were bound to run in a lot of trouble along the way, and he had no dreams of grandeur – remember, Bofur is very realistic. But somehow he thought he might get a few prizes from this journey, so he made sure to keep his braids always looking good.
Then one night, as he got up from the floor where he had fallen with eight other dwarves on top of him at the brusque opening of a door, Bofur looked up and felt something queer. His heart skipped a beat. Two normal beats and another skip, before beating heavy like hammer on anvil.
Bilbo Baggins, with his multicolored robe and indignant expression on his soft face, was a sight to behold.
He was pulled into setting up the table, the smell of good food dragging him out of stupor for a moment. His heart did not calm down, however, and soon he found himself looking for ways to be in the hobbit's path or get his attention on any way he could, inserting himself in conversation with him whenever possible.
Cheese knife? He eats by the block.
But it's full of holes.
That would be a reference to Smaug, the Terrible, greatest and chiefest calamity of our age.
Oh, do you hear that lads? He says we'll blunt the knives.
Think furnace with wings.
None of the above had been great lines to engage in conversation with such a delicate creature as Bilbo Baggins, but that last one had really done it. When the hobbit fainted, Bofur knew that this time he would have to really try and hold his tongue.
Leaving the Shire on the morning after without their prospective burglar was harder than expected, and Bofur found himself looking behind every now and then. Disappointment was coursing through him like ice on his veins. What good was finding your one if it was not a dwarf and despised the very thought of taking such a long journey?
The sight of Bilbo running after them, however, reaffirmed his belief that he belonged in that company. He would straighten his braids whenever none of the other dwarves were looking, and slowly, as they moved out of the Shire, he got closer to the Halfling.
Their hobbit proved to be a rather curious fellow. And smart too. Bofur, who watched him day and night, soon noticed the attention with which Bilbo observed Fili and Kili exchange secret Iglishmek. One day he could not contain himself – he was getting used to explaining everything he could about dwarves to him, anyway – and sat by his side to initiate conversation. It is quite endearing to watch him, his brows in a furrow of concentration, wondering in his eyes. But a tug at his heart makes him want all that attention in himself, so he speaks.
"Ah… I see our hobbit is trying to learn Iglishmek."
Bilbo startled and Bofur chuckled. Was there anything about Bilbo Baggins that wasn't adorable? Even the way those furry feet's toes wriggled in surprised made his heart mellow with adoration – perhaps, just perhaps, he had something for feet, but that was hardly the matter.
"What? No. No. Well… I… I was… curious."
It is interesting to see how he winces at the admission, as if it is a terrible thing being curious. Most likely this was highly frowned upon the in the Shire. But he nodded anyway, deciding that his own curiosity about Bilbo would be best left for later.
"Aye, I hear ye. We all are."
"What do you mean?" Bilbo asks, instantly recovered from the inner battle he appeared to be. Again, adorable. "What are you curious about?"
Yer favorite color. Yer favorite food. Yer favorite book. Will ye marry me? "The same thing y'are. The lads' endless chatter and the secret jokes they share." He answers in the end, remembering Bombur's wise words about being too much obvious.
"You don't know what they talk about?" the hobbit seemed completely stunned by this information, and looked directly at him with that concentration that earlier was focused on Fili and Kili.
"Nope. Not a word of it." He shook his head, trying to hide his momentarily blush behind a few smoke rings. Bofur was not used with being the center of that gaze.
"I thought that you all knew Iglishmek." Bilbo pressed on.
"Aye, we all do. But Fili and Kili don't use Iglishmek." He explained, trying to simply go along the conversation.
"What, really? I had no idea there was more than one secret sign language for dwarves. Before this adventure I didn't even know about the first one."
"That's because we don't have another one, lad. What they use is not Iglishmek… well, it is and it is not at the same time. It's something they have created on their own. Probably to laugh behind our backs, if ye ask me." And to say a thing or two that would have their uncle fuming if he was to know, if Bofur had to bet. Before their quest had started he had met the lads just twice in Ered Luin, because their price was pretty good and their forging was good enough. Thorin might be fooled by their discreteness, but Bofur remembered very well the look they had been exchanging when he came into their forge the first time.
"How can it be and not be Iglishmek at the same time?" the hobbit asked, furrowing his brows.
"It's hard to explain, but… look at them now." Bofur took a breath and pointed at them with his pipe, paying attention to the signs they were making. It was their usual mess of meanings that Bofur had given up on understanding "If I was to translate it now, Fili would be asking about how are Kili's feet, which is a perfectly reasonable question, since we had to practically drag our ponies uphill. Nonetheless, Kili's answer is telling his brother how beautiful the clouds were on the sky this morning, which is also a reasonable comment but totally out of context. Do you understand?"
"I… I guess so. Fili and Kili use something like coded Iglishmek, then?"
"Might be something like that, yes. We can't be sure." Then Bofur said more, because he was enjoying very much to see the appraisal that was appearing in Bilbo's eyes. It was good that the hobbit was really appreciating things about their culture. It gave Bofur hope. "Ye see, so far, Fili has been making all kinds of questions and Kili has been giving all kinds of mismatched answers. One might think that this is their pattern, but just now for every question Fili makes Kili started to answer with another question. It really has no pattern. And that's today. Sometimes they use the most amusing combination of words. Not to mention when they use signs that none of us has ever seen, and we are much older than they are."
Bofur allowed himself to appraise their intelligence. To come up with all that between 77 and 82 years… Sure, every pair of brother had a way to convey messages that the parents couldn't know. He and Bombur sometimes relied on whistles when they had been but dwarflings. But Fili and Kili had taken that into another level. Of course, with an uncle like Thorin Oakenshield… one might feel pressed into developing stealthier forms of communication, especially if there are… inappropriate things to be kept secret.
"I understand ye. We were all fairly impressed when we discovered that." He says, wanting to hear more of Bilbo's thoughts on the matter.
"Oh, don't take me wrong, but... I never expected linguistic mysteries from this journey."
"Ah, then ye have something in common with most of us, at last." He smoked his pipe, nodding in agreement before he offered what he considered a fairly decent dashing smile "Welcome to the company, lad."
Bofur lost himself in the way that Bilbo smiled back, with the way he took a big breath and started talking non-stopping, explaining his own observations on the two royal nephews. It was amazing how he had managed to see these small variations in their sign language.
"Oh... ye know, I had never noticed that before." Bofur then turned to him with a grin, feeling that to be a good time to give him a praise without sounding too awkward "Light feet and brains, you are proving yerself rather capable Master Hobbit! Keep this up and I might not want to leave yer side when some thinking is required. We don't have the brightest lot here, ye know."
Bilbo's ears became red at that, Bofur noticed even with all that soft curly hair hiding them. What he wouldn't give to plant a light kiss at those pointy ears… He refrained from such thoughts, though, before he said something that made the hobbit feel uncomfortable. Instead, he went on with their conversation about Fili and Kili.
"Aye, I suppose that makes some sense. Balin, Dwalin, Oin and Gloin are related to them and know them since they were children, probably they have seen the boys using the signs many times before and Fili and Kili have changed their codes to keep their conversations private. As for Thorin and Gandalf... well, I guess anyone would be cautious around them."
He saw Bilbo nod, processing what he had said. Probably the hobbit didn't know what the Line of Durin was, but now he was beginning to understand that the quest was not just about gold, it was mainly a family wanting to get back their rightful home.
"But what could they possibly have to say to each that it has to be kept secret?"
"That's a good question. Sometimes, judging from their laughter, I have the impression that they are joking at our expense. But sometimes... I guess the lads just want some privacy. It can get suffocating in this company every once in a while. Most likely, they must feel bothered that suddenly they never get to be alone anymore. They used to live alone at Fili's forge in Ered Luin, ye know, now they are surrounded by older dwarves that are constantly measuring them for their youth." Bofur shrugged. He feels that this is the main reason, because, again, he remembers the day he walked into the forge. But starts to feel uncomfortable, feels like prying into their lives, so he finishes his comment trying to divert the meaning of their silent conversation "At least, that's what I think. But ye never really know when it comes to these lads. Fili and Kili are cunning and mischievous likes foxes, I'll have ye know."
After this conversation, however, Bofur finds himself noticing more of the lads' behavior. He notices that Bilbo observes them even more, fascinated by their dynamic sign language. But Bofur sees past the Iglishmek, he sees how Fili sometimes touched his braided moustache with longing in his eyes. As the hobbit doesn't know about their braiding traditions is only natural that he hasn't noticed this.
Braids on the moustache. Fili loved someone he couldn't have. Yet, the courting braids on his head were always looking good – someone was always doing them. That could only mean that the lad was paying no attention to the forbidden part, which sounded pretty much like a thing that Fili and Kili would do. The younger brother, however, had no braid at all. This was the confusing part. If they were having an affair, as it seemed to be the case, why wouldn't Kili carry courting braids?
Perhaps he was just imagining things. Perhaps it was just another prank the lads were pulling on them – because frankly, Thorin must see the contradiction in his nephew's braids, right?
Bofur is confused about this until the day they catch a deluge, as Dori had pointed out complainingly. Kili had been riding ahead, scouting with Dwalin, and as Bilbo was lost in conversation with Gandalf, Bofur found himself trying to make his pipe give him something.
When he looked behind, he saw Fili looking very grim under his blue hood. Bofur chuckled, then. People laughed at his hat, but it was useful, see? A bit unconventional, granted, but his braids weren't getting soaked.
Still, he took pity on the lad, and offered him his hat with a kind smile.
"Here, lad. I think my hair is in need of a wash, anyway."
Fili looked up at him. First there was confusion on his face, soon after substituted by awkwardness. Bofur was beginning to think that his hat must be really ugly if the blonde rather get soaked than wearing it. When blue eyes looked past him, however, he was hit by the feeling of a glare burning his head. When he turned, he saw Kili riding to the back of the column, a very nasty look on his face.
"Thank you, Bofur, but there is no need." Fili declines his offer politely at last, but his eyes were trained on his brother.
When Kili arrives at their position, he places his pony between his and Fili's. Bofur gets the message and rides ahead. Braidless he might be, but Kili's glare spoke of rights over Fili as clearly as a beard braid of compromise.
On the following night he catches sight of Dori patting playfully Kili's knees and the murderous look on Fili's face. Having an affair or not, the lads definitely had some possessive displays towards one another. Bofur is slightly worried at this, first because he doesn't want neither of the brothers misinterpreting Bilbo's close observations if he ever gets caught doing it. And second because he really likes them, he wishes them to be happy with one another, and if Thorin should ever see one of those demonstrations… a storm will descend upon them for sure.
Of course, he is slightly crossed with Fili and Kili after they send Bilbo alone to retrieve the ponies from the trolls. First they lose two ponies – because they were doing Mahal-only-knows-what (even though Bofur can bet his hat that it had something to do with enjoying a rare time alone) – then they tell the hobbit to hoot like a brown owl if he runs into trouble. Of course he would run into trouble! There were tree hungry trolls cooking a meal!
But then they are running away from wargs and at some point Bofur finds himself pulling Bilbo to stay safely in the middle of them thirteen when a bunch of riding elves show up. Granted, Gandalf is talking amiably with the elf that came to receive them, but after so much trouble he will not risk the hobbit getting smashed down by elven horses. He only truly relaxes in Rivendell when he notices Bilbo placing his bedroll closer than usual to his. Still was a little farther than what he'd like, but it was better than the previous night, when he had to watch the little one try to gain them some time while fooling the trolls.
Nights later, he is once again watching Bilbo watching Fili and Kili. Bofur is somewhat jealous that the hobbit follows their interactions so closely, but he knows there is nothing there but curiosity and as usual ends up wrapped into watching their dynamics. At least the hobbit had sought the place beside him to sit. That had to mean something, right? Then Ori falls on Kili's lap, and Bofur immediately turns to see Fili's reaction. As expected, a glare replaces the normal serene gaze on blue eyes. Unknown signs are exchanged, for sure, but he chooses to pay attention to the hobbit by his size.
"Jealousy." He explains when it's clear that Bilbo is confused by that reaction.
"I'm sorry, what?" Bilbo turned to the dwarf by his side then "Jealousy?"
"Aye. Don't tell me you've never noticed it."
Bilbo shook his head no. A stunned look on his delicate face as he turns to watch them a bit more. Whatever he sees – Bofur is too focused on his affection's eyes to look at the lads – convinces him that was indeed the case. Suddenly this topic is of great interest to Bofur.
It is the first time their conversation brushes the subject of relationship, and it will be good to know if Bilbo had anything against males loving males. So far, Bofur had been so engrossed into the feeling of being enamored for the hobbit, that he had not yet thought about the possibility of his feelings being despicable to the other. A sudden fear took hold of his heart, then he joked on, so he could try to extract something out of Bilbo.
"Getting sloppy, are we, Master Hobbit?" Bofur elbowed him playfully, a grin on his face to hide the dread in his eyes "The lads are extremely jealous. They usually are fine with shaking hands or slaps on the back, but you get a nasty look from one if you get somewhere near the legs or the hair from the other. I offered Fili my hat once… you should have seen the murderous look on Kili's face."
The look on Bilbo's face was not of utter disgust, which was a good thing, but it was not of complete acceptance either, which was a terrible thing. Surely, he might still be trying to get past the part that Fili and Kili are brothers. That would be shocking even if they were not both males, so Bofur tries not to get desperate about his reaction.
"Brothers… looking out for each other's… honor?" Bilbo offered weakly, but it is clear from his expression that he does not truly believe what he is saying. He is finally coming to understand the affectionate looks that Fili and Kili cast one another.
Despite of himself, Bofur laughed at his suggestion. It was a bit comical, anyway. Besides… Bilbo was not freaking out, he was taking it rather calmly. Perhaps it was just a matter of getting used to the idea… if he got used to Fili and Kili, surely hearing about Bofur's feelings one day will be a piece of cake.
"So that's what you hobbits call it, then? We have a different meaning for this in khudzul."
The blush he enjoys so much to see rises again, and rather obviously instead of being constrained to the pointy ears. Bofur gets urges to kiss him every time this happens, and he is always trying to make it happen. Even if Bilbo is pointedly trying to not look at the lads again, there might be hope for him yet.
The possibility of Bilbo rejecting him, however, pales in comparison with the possibility of losing him to death. Bofur doesn't think he has even been more desperate than the last three days, when he sees Bilbo almost falling to his death, then forcing himself to let him go because it was the best for him. All of that followed by the awful feeling of not knowing where he is and if he is safe. He almost passed out when the hobbit jumped between Thorin and Azog as he was hanging helplessly on a tree branch.
Even after they are safely travelling on eagles' backs, Bofur is still shaking with fear.
Never mind Erebor on the horizon. He has only eyes for Bilbo, alive and well. Later, when they are around the campfire, his eyes are still following the hobbit around, afraid that he will disappear.
At some point, Bilbo sees the secret but not so secret light kisses that Fili and Kili are sharing, away from the camp, somewhat hidden from the rest of the company – at least from Thorin's sight. The softness in his eyes brings some calm to Bofur's frightened heart. Bilbo is alive and accepting of Fili and Kili – that could only mean hope for him.
Then, when the hobbit's gaze rested upon him, Bofur chuckled in happiness. Alive and accepting and looking at him! He makes a sign in Iglishmek. Beautiful, his hands say, since his mouth still can't voice his thoughts about him.