Snow

Songs of long gone heroes and valiant deeds of battle rose and fell upon the vast halls of Erebor. A shadow cast by a blazing hearth illuminated you and another merry figure, who were avoiding the grand feast in the great hall. You did not mind the raucous festivities of the dwarves, but every so often you longed for peace, like how it was in the Shire. Bofur had always insisted that he should join you in those rare moments, and although it was a bit annoying at first, you soon fell prey to his wit and charm.

The dwarf placed his pipe between his lips and huffed absentmindedly, his eyebrows furrowing whenever a smoke ring did not appear. You stifled your laughter as you gazed at the end of the wooden object, which was not lit. Instances like that had become commonplace, as he had begun to act clumsy in your presence. In the last week alone, he had dropped and crushed a bag of potatoes he had fetched for Bombur, set a precious tapestry on fire, and dropped his favorite dagger into a mining chasm. The occurrences had escalated to an extremity you had not deemed possible, and the dwarf had become the laughing stock of his kin.

You did not allude to the fact that you were wholeheartedly concerned for him, but his carefreeness was a matter that ceaselessly imposed upon your mind. Especially at that moment, as he continued to hopelessly conjure smoke rings.

"Bofur?" You muttered, and your breath caught in your throat as he pulled his pipe out from his lips and flashed you a charming smile.

"Yes, lassie?”

"Perhaps,” you smiled, “if you lit your pipe, it would work."

He gazed at the end of the object, and a breathy sigh fell from his lips.

“I s’pose so.”

He lit it that time, and contentedness spread across his features as a smoke ring wafted up to your bedroom ceiling. You watched the white clouds as they lazily soared through the air, and snuck a few longing glances at the dwarf. He may be a clumsy fool, but there was something about him that drew you towards him. He had snuck his way into your life, and you would be a damned idiot if you let him slip out of your grasp. You tapped your fingers upon your armchair and quietly pondered why he had become inept around you.

Were you a bother? Was he acting out to, perhaps, scare you away? Surely not, as he was sitting beside you at the moment. He always looked happy around you, but was he truly? Did he hide his aggravations with you behind a wall of positivity and good fortune?

Another question sprung up in your head, and this one overtok the last. Was Bofur tired of your affection towards him? You had scared away a large amount of would-be suitors that way, but surely he would not do that to you, right?

You looked back at him, once more, and shook your head as his pipe began to slip out of his lips. He looked like he was lost in thought, but what could trouble his mind so much that he didn’t even realize he was smoking?

You cautiously reached over and pulled the object from his lips, and he snapped back into focus.

“This was about to fall.” You murmured, as you set the pipe on your dresser. Bofur groaned and shifted to put his head in his hands, and you were left far more confused than you had previously been. “Bofur?”

“I’m sorry, lass, I really am…”

“You’re sorry for?..”

He simply shook his head, and you shifted closer to him. He leaned into your touch as you placed a hand upon his shoulder, instead of shying away like you thought he would. He was not acting normal, but what had you done to upset him?

“Bofur, please, what is it?” You slowly pulled his hands away from his face, and he stared at you for a moment. Regret was clouded over his eyes, and he shifted his stare down to the tiles as you sucked in your breath.

“Ye are going to think me a fool…”

“I will, if you don’t tell me what’s going on.” You grasped his hands in what you hoped was a gesture of comfort, and it sent your heart racing when he did not move to stop you. He paused for a moment, before he murmured three binding words.

“I love ye.”

Your jaw went slack and a fiery blush spread across your face, and you almost dropped your hold on his hands. He loved you? Is that why he could not focus around you? No, this had to be an elaborate joke orchestrated by the Durin brothers, who were probably laughing behind their hands right now. You glanced around surreptitiously, and Bofur sighed.

“I know, lass. I’m an old dwarf, ye don’t have to say a thing-”

“You love me?” You interrupted.

“Yes.”

His expression broke your heart. He looked utterly distraught; his brow was creased and he was frowning. You took a deep breath and mustered up all of your courage, because by Mahal, you couldn’t stand to see him joyless.

“Bofur, I love you too.”

His head jerked up and he met your gaze, as all of his previous worry melted from his features.

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

He let out a sigh of relief and let go of your hands, so he could pull your body against him. Your blush darkened and you laid your head on his shoulder, as you stared into the dying embers of your fireplace.

“I s’pose I should explain,” He dryly chuckled. “I’ve loved ye since the journey, but I thought ye would return to the shire, with Bilbo. I only thought ye stayed here because ye had a job.”

“You truly are a fool."

He grinned and looked down at you, his expression causing your heart to skip a beat.

“I thought about ignoring ye, lass.” He admitted ruefully.

“And instead, you destroyed Erebor in your wake.”

He grimaced at your joke and you smiled proudly, as you laid a hand upon his cheek.

“You could have simply kissed me, y’know. It would’ve made everything easier.”

He laid his hand over yours as you noticed a light pink blush peppering his cheeks, and leaned closer to him. He looped his arm around your waist and pulled you against his chest.

“May I?” He muttered, and you leaned in without a moment of hesitation. His beard tickled your face as your lips locked together, and he rubbed his hand up and down your waist. He broke apart after a few moments and leaned his forehead against yours. “Was that a good apology?”

“It could’ve been better.”