#bofur fluff

the familiar knotting in his stomach was present now, as he slumped against the stone wall, pipe to his lips. he stared at the burning embers in the fire pit, and felt an icy emptiness on his torso, a chilled reminder that you were not there, bundled up and snoozing. his heart beat alone, coveting the rhythm of yours falling in sync.

he hadn’t thought that he had done anything wrong, or said anything to offend you. the last night the two of you’d spent together consisted of a perfervid romp in the stables, one that was filled with breathy laughter and stolen, hot kisses. it left the two of you panting with matching grins.

the morning after, you’d changed. your smile was gone, as was your voice, but only when the syllables of his name were to be spoken.

what had happened?

Bofur was so diligent in reliving each moment, deducting every word he could remember speaking to you, that he hadn’t noticed he was no longer alone. “Fine evenin’ for a smoke.” Fili offered a brief smile as he gestured with his pipe, plopping down beside him. a deep inhale, and the blonde prince had puffs of thick smoke pouring from his mouth and nose to dissipate in the air around him. his brother had also appeared, yet instead of sitting with the pair, he opted to lean against the stone wall with his arms crossed.

“I’d say so,” Bofur offered a quaint chuckle, before taking in a gust of his own. it wasn’t until he was blowing smoke rings into the atmosphere that he speaks again. “You boys need something from me?” it wasn’t that he disliked the brothers’ company; in fact, he rather enjoyed them. it was only that he was so often alone on this shift, and the way Kili’s dark eyes were fixed, brows knit together, was a telltale sign: something was on his mind.

“We came to talk to your about our sister.” Kili answers before Fili gets the chance, blunt as ever. the two had always been more than a tad overprotective, after all, you were the youngest of the three.

Fili is quick enough to add with a heavy palm on Bofur’s shoulder, “Have you spoken with her lately?”

when you become topic of the conversation, Bofur’s cheeks are plagued with cherry tint, and the poor dwarf nearly chokes on his smoke. a couple of hacks, and the spectral silver claws its way into the sky. “Your sister?” his voice is much lower than before, eyes darting around as if he were searching for eavesdroppers. “I thought we’d already agreed…” of course, they already knew about the two of you and how you sneaked around the kingdom together. Kili, the hopeless romantic he is, had even given his blessing immediately. Fili’s hand come later— no matter how close to Bofur he was, you were baby sister and, naturally, had to be protected in his eyes. they also had agreed to keep the relationship a secret, particularly from Thorin, you and Bofur were still uncertain and hesitant to tell the King, your uncle, about your union. “I thought- I thought it was all right.”

“Something’s wrong with her, we think.” Fili interjects, free hand palming the carvings on his pipe. “She seems a bit ill.”

“Ill?” Bofur frowns, sitting upright. his heart seemed to skip a beat and his feet wanted to start running — straight to your bedroom.

Kili nods, leaning over his shoulder. “She doesn’t sleep very well lately, and sometimes Fili and I catch her vomiting outside in the early hours of the morning—“

“Sometimes, she refuses to eat,” Fili interrupts, “others, she’s ravenous. Eats practically everything in sight.”

“Yes!” Kili continues, frown deepening. “And she has only one goblet of wine a night, but I don’t believe she’s even drinking it.”

Bofur looks at the two of them perplexed, but he grips the stem of his pipe with his lips so he can press his gloved palms into the stone and push himself to stand up. “Where is she?” it’s nearly a demand, and much unlike the flippant dwarf. “It sounds like something serious. We should get Oin to her immediately—“

both Fili and Kili throw their hands out to stop him, grabbing his arms from either sides with an urgency that startled him. his dark eyes flicker from one to the other, and then back again.

Fili clears his throat, and leans closer to Bofur. “No, not yet.”

“Why in Durin’s name would we wait for her to worsen?”

“Well…” Kili exchanges a knowing glance with his brother, “we believe her condition to be a bit sensitive.” Bofur doesn’t seem to follow, made evident by the way his countenance is twisted, Kili could all but see gears turning in his head. he continues, insistent, “Bofur, the best person for her to see right now… We think it’s you.”

“Me?” Bofur is dumbfounded. he had not a single knack for medicine, nor an iota of knowledge pertaining to illness. “Why?”

“Because,” Fili finally sounds a bit exasperated as he turns Bofur’s attention away from his brother and to him instead, “my brother and I suspect you put a wee one in her belly and she’s too frightened to tell anyone.”

what was this feeling? an earthquake? Bofur glances to his feet, but sees nothing shuddering, just his shaking digits. his world was shaken, not the world around him. the words repeat themselves over and over in his mind, each time sounding louder. a wee one? a baby? could this be true?

more than a bit disoriented, Bofur takes a moment more to blink his sudden dizziness away. “I—“ what could he say? what was there to say? “I need to see her.” he answers. it was definitive, genuine. if he was so disturbed by the possibility, he couldn’t imagine what you were feeling if it were true, and felt a wave of guilt at the prospect that you’d been suffering alone.

Kili nods, finally letting go of Bofur’s arm. “Last time I saw her, she was tending to the ponies at the stables.” a jut of his chin in the direction of the ladder down the wall, “I’d look for her there. She hasn’t been going to bed very early these days.”

✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨

his ragged breathing announces his arrival as he reaches the stables, staggering into the shelter and out of the night. as Kili predicted, you were still there, a thick brush in your palm as you drag it over the blonde mane.

spending time in the stables was a way for you to escape from the pressures of being a Princess in Erebor. of course, there weren’t too many. your brothers being two of the biggest, but you also felt a certain gnawing of anxiety when some of the others looked at you. they didn’t know you the way the Company of Thorin Oakenshield did, and they stared. they whispered. as a princess, you were told to ignore these things, the starry look in their eyes, but it drove you mad. you didn’t want them to be awestruck when they gazed upon you; you weren’t part of Erebor’s hoard, you weren’t a shilling nor a string of diamonds. you preferred the ponies’ company because they never stared at you in adoration or envy. they didn’t care what the tiara on your head meant, and that was comforting.

tonight, and many nights prior, spending time in the stables had been an escape for another reason. you didn’t want to arouse suspicion, not until you had some kind of a plan. so, you spent hours in here, with the non-judgemental equine, braiding their manes and brushing it out again, asking them in embarrassed whispers what you should do, who you should tell. the one unfortunate fact was that the ponies didn’t have any answers.

he calls your name, but you don’t turn around to face him. you’re much too humiliated. by the tone of his voice, you’d think he had seen a ghost.

“How long have you been here?” he asks. you assume he’s glanced around by now, saw a basket of food that has been partially eaten, and the indent in the pile of hay where you’d napped earlier.

“A few hours.” you reply, but leave it there.

“Are you all right?”

you choose not to answer for a matter of torturous seconds, feeling a fluttering in your gut like massive dragon wings attempting a takeoff. you could always lie, tell him yes, and maybe he’d believe you.

you almost do so, too, until he speaks again.

“Is it true?” he knew. somehow, Bofur had figured it out, and you knew that by the muted lilt in his voice; typically, he was a rather jolly fellow with a lovable disposition and plenty of humor to go around. in this moment, he sounds different. nervous, maybe? you feel a twinge of guilt— you were already nervous enough for the both of you.

feigning ignorance was never your forte. so, you nod. “Yes, it’s true.” you answer, eyes dropping to the horse’s hooves. they’re stationary. completely still. you wished you could be the same, but your hands are shaking and your bottom lip quivering. you suck it between your teeth to still it.

Bofur is silent, which is typically a bad sign. you wait, in silent agony, for him to say something. anything. “I’m confident you haven’t told Thorin,” he speaks, finally, “because I’ve got no extra holes and all of my… parts are still attached.”

the statement coaxes a bittersweet giggle to your pursed couplet, and though it may not seem to have had the desired effect to ease the tension in the stables, you’re thankful he chose to say it, anyways.

“But…” Bofur takes a couple of steps to you, and as badly as your heart wants you to turn and collapse into his embrace, your pride pushes back against the notion furiously. “Have you told anyone?”

you shake your head, the entirety of your countenance sweltering with humiliation. you’re grateful that you’re turned away from him, hiding your shame from him.

“Why? I mean, why didn’t you tell me? Come on, darlin’, it’s me.” he sounds gutted which, in turn, guts you, as well. “We can tell each other anything, you told me that. Remember?”

leaning forward, you press your forehead against the pony’s side and close your eyes against a single tear that is persistent enough to break the barrier and slides over your cheek. “I didn’t know— I don’t know what to do.” you answer, voice shaking and threatening to break at any moment. “I didn’t know if you’d be happy.”

“You didn’t know?” he sounds incredulous, inquiry accompanied by a scoff. “Oh? Love, that’s your nerves talkin’. You know me better than anyone else on this mountain. You knew, deep down, that I’d be giddy. I’m happy,” the word is a tidal wave of relief that nearly knocks you off balance, but then you feel the warmth of his gloved hand take yours, lacing your fingers, “so happy. The happiest dwarf in Erebor. No! The happiest dwarf in all seven kingdoms! I want to shout this good news from every rooftop in Middle Earth!”

his excitement is typically contagious. Bofur is the type to brighten a room with a grin, or burst into song when everyone else is beaten down and dreary, just to pull their spirits up. it’s a relief that he’s happy, it’s true, but that doesn’t stop you from giving his hand a hard squeeze. “Bofur?” you murmur, “Bofur, I want to be happy, but I’m so scared.” you were, regrettably, unable to partake in his overwhelming excitement. all you could think about was absolutely anything and everything that could go wrong, and how lost you were. “What do we do?”

this is when you feel it; his hand slips from yours, but only so both hands can envelop your shoulders and urge you to turn around. against your better judgement, and the embarrassment you feel at the thought of looking in his eyes, you comply. at first, your gaze focuses on his feet, and the way yours try to hide between his boots.

“Darlin’,” he croons, giving your shoulders a good squeeze, “look at me.” Bofur leans forward to press his forehead against yours as your eyes flicker up to see the joy lighting up his countenance. you practically melt into the embrace completely, allowing him to stand for the both of you— to think for the both of you. “We’re gonna have a wee one. A baby! And you’re going to be the best damn mama he coulda ever wished for.”

though his words are comforting beyond what you felt that you deserved, and he was so genuine that you were beginning to believe every word, there was still an inkling of doubt. the fear still lurks. “How do you know that?”

another scoff, and his familiar grin etched his lips upwards. “‘Cause I know you.”

you tilt your head, one hand flees to toy mindlessly with his tawny braid, but you smile. it’s a tender one, a delicate one, but a smile nonetheless. “You’re going to be a fine father, Bofur.” you whisper, finally.

“Only with you by my side.” he insists, leaving a trail of kisses along the bridge of your nose and up to your temple.

you close your eyes and enjoy the shower of affection. after all, it had been several days— too many— since you felt him so close, and you had missed his warmth dearly. his kisses were much too sugary and addictive to turn away from for so long.

“How did you know, anyways?” you ask after a moment of content.

he chuckles. once again, never a good sign. “Fili and Kili ambushed me at the wall.”

you, too, partake in the laughter. the thought of your brothers cornering your lover seemed a bit comical, even amidst the tension of the situation. of course they knew already, the three of you were mostly inseparable. if you had slept ten minutes later than normal, they’d be able to tell. “Of course they did.” you reply with a soft sigh. “Well, I suppose that makes it easy. Two down. I guess we should tell Thorin next.”

“Well…” Bofur grins sheepishly, pulling you into a tighter embrace. you could tell by the reluctance in his voice that he wasn’t thrilled about the idea of telling your uncle the big news. you couldn’t blame him. not that Thorin was cruel, because had it been anyone else, he would hold the biggest feast in honor of a friend becoming a father. however, much like your brothers, Thorin guarded you fiercely. “Let’s sleep on it, at least. I’ve only just found out, after all. The King Under the Mountain can wait till after breakfast, eh?”