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Summary
"'ullo again, Mister Baggins," the toymaker drawls, without turning around, and Bilbo laughs as he straightens up and steps into the candlelight.
It's still early enough into the evening that Bofur surely does not truly need to light the tapers as yet, but he's engaged in something delicate, it seems, his thick fingers busy on a knob of wood and his paring knife - he doesn't even look up when Bilbo circles the table to have a look.
"Someday you'll have to tell me how it is that you always know that I'm there."