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The company had stopped for the night, settling in a large cave on the front of a mountain. It had been a long day, with a rain that soaked you all right through.
but the evening was filled with a warm fire and pleasant conversation. Most of your time was spent with Bifur, Bofur and Bombur.
Ever since they rolled into the front door and Bilbo’s, you had been close with them. They didn’t intimidate you like the others did. Well, Bifur had at the start, but Bofur had quickly shown you there was nothing to fear even if the dwarf did have an axe lodged in his head.
Bofur had taken you under his wing. Your brother, Bilbo, was useless when it came to anything outdoors, so Bofur had acted like a mentor for you both. Which worked out well considering Bilbos fondness for Bofur and his friendship with Bombur – shared over a love for food. Bifur scared Bilbo slightly, but he couldn’t deny that he felt a little safer knowing that Bifur would protect you if needed. He proved it countless times already on the journey.
Bombur and Bilbo was cooking dinner for the company, but they spoke of other meals beside the meat in the pot. Bofur was sitting with Nori, smoking a pipe that had not long dried out.
Which left you with Bifur.
you sat in a comfortable silence as you mended a shirt of his that had been torn.
“Hows this?” You ask, holding up your handiwork for him to inspect.
He mumbled words in Khuzdul, nodding and smiling as he took the item from your hand, apparently happy with it.
Bofur appeared, dumping himself inelegantly at your feet.
“When are you going to fix my gloves. I have more holes than fingers.” He held up his hands with the gloves on, wiggling his fingers at you.
“You don’t ask nicely.” You shoot back with a raise eyebrow.
“Neither does Bifur!” Bofur acted shocked and hurt by your comment. “And how would you understand him even if he had?”
“Well, he seems like he asked nicely.” You reason, smiling a Bifur who shot one back, mumbling something under his breathe.
“Hey! We’re family.” Bofur points a finger at him, his face pulled into one of mock shock. Apparently, whatever Bifur said, it was an insult.
You giggled, pulling the gloves off Bofurs hands before setting to work.
Bofur chatted to Bifur, the conversation seeming to flow despite it being in two languages. You watched them speak, wishing that you could fully join in.
You wished you could understand what he was saying. He was very animated when he spoke, and you loved it. His eyes danced as he recanted tales in his native tongue, but you just couldn’t understand.
You tried a few times to speak Khuzdul, and butchered it every time, much to the amusement of most of the company. In fairness, they tried to help, and you had started to pick up a little here and there. But Bifur spoke as quick as lightning, and your brain just couldn’t keep up with translating him.
In truth, you could spent the whole night listening to him speak, even though you didn’t have the foggiest clue what he was saying.
When Bilbo asked why you would sit by Bifur every night, you lied and said ti was because you were fascinated with the language. Well, it wasn’t a complete lie.
You were fascinated with the dwarf who spoke it.
---------------time skip --------------
Sitting beside Bifur, you felt the dread building in your stomach.
This time tomorrow, you might still be fighting.
This time tomorrow, you might be dead.
There was no joyous meal tonight. There hadn’t been since you got to the mountain.
You were all set to work, trying to find this stone. And Thorin never let any of you spend more than a passing moment with any of them.
Bofur and Bombur tried their bests. Bombur snuck you extra food, in an attempt to show he was still there for you. And Bofur would smile at you no matter what.
Bifur was never far away from you. He was always just around a corner or in the next room from you.
You didn’t know that when Bilbo had escaped, he had asked Bifur to keep you safe no matter what.
But how safe could Bifur keep you on the battle field?
Sitting on a bench in one of the many corridors, you tried to concentrate on mending the small hole in your sleeve. But your hands were shaking too bad.
Cursing, you were about to throw down the needed when someone took your hand.
Looking up, you saw Bifur. Immediately, you smiled. Despite the tears in your eyes, or your shaking hands, you smiled at him.
Bifur returned the smile, but you could see there was worry in his eyes as he sat next to you. He took your arm to see where the needle was connected too, which was a hole in your forearm. It wasn’t too big.
He grumbled something before picking up the needle and, much to your surprise, started to sew the hole closed.
“I didn’t think you could sow.” You speak aloud, more out of curiosity.
Bifur chuckled, shaking his head before looking up at you.
He spoke in Khuzdul, which you didn’t understand. But he gestured to you, then to his eyes then the hole.
“You learned from me?” You smile, your cheeks burning as he nodded and continued.
He must have spent a lot of time watching you considering what a good job he was doing on the stitching.
When he finished, you smiled at his word as you inspected it.
“Not bad at all. Im very impressed.” You grinned, stretching out your arm and admiring his work.
Noise drew both your attentions to the end of the corridor, and you saw Dwalin walk past.
In full armour.
even after he past, the weight of what that meant stayed on you both.
But, for the briefest of moment, you had forgotten about everything. Bifur had a way of doing that with you. He could distract you, making you smile and laugh even when you didn’t think you could.
And if something happened to you tomorrow, you wanted him to know that. You wanted him to know everything.
Glancing to Bifur, you knew it was now or never.
“I love you.” You whispered it as though it were a secret and your cheeks burned.
You didn’t dare look at Bifur as his head snapped to you, instead finding interest in the floor. “I just needed you to know that. In case anything happens tomorrow.”
you rose to your feet, ready to leave, when a hand grabbed your wrist and you were stopped.
Bifur stood in a hurry, words in Khuzdul falling from his lips like he was spitting fire.
You smiled, looking at him sadly.
“I cant understand you.” You giggled, despite the pain in your chest. You desperately wanted to think he was confessing and undying love for you, but you were a realist. It was far more likely that he was trying to explain how things could never happened, or how he cared for you in other ways.
Bifur fell silent, the frustration in his eyes apparent as he seemed to grind his teeth.
then, the frustration faded from his face, as if a realization had dawned on him. You were curious and despite the part of you that wanted to run away, you wanted to know what he was thinking. Like you always did.
“Bifur?” You asked, drawing his attention back to you.
He suddenly leaned down, pressing his lips to your own. You froze, out of sheer panic and surprise. Never, in a thousand years, would you think he would kiss you.
You felt him pause, about to pull back when you realised you had been still as a statue.
You allowed yourself to dive into the fantasy you had dreamt about for so long, and kissed him back. His bread made your skin itch a little, but you didn’t care as you reached up, your hands finding his chest.
A large hand covered your left one while his other hand touched your hip, slipping around to your lower back and pulling you closer. You mewled into the kiss, enjoying the affection and attention, the war that was on the doorstep long forgotten.
A voice called through the large hallways. Thorin.
It made you jump and step back, panting slightly.
Thorin scared you now because he was unpredictable now. The dwarf you had followed seemed long gone, and the stranger who now lead was a far cry from the original.
You had hoped that you were wrong and the others who had known him longer would deny your fears. But they didn’t.
Thorin called for Bifur to go to the armoury. He didn’t bother coming to search for the dwarf, instead just calling his orders and expecting the echoes to carry them.
Bifur looked to you, his eyes silently asking if you were okay. You smiled, giving a small nod. Reaching out, you took his hand for a moment.
“Be safe tomorrow.” You said, not posing it as a question but as a statement.
He smiled, giving a small nod before mumbling something in his own words. You suspected it was similar to your own statement.
and then the two of you parted, and the dread returned to your stomach.
--------------------- time skip – after battle --------------
Racing through the battle field, you couldn’t hear anything as you searched for the dwarfs you had grown so close to.
The moment you spotted the floppy hat, you barrelled across the land, throwing yourself at the unexpecting dwarf before he laughed and hugged you back.
“Good to see you’re alive too, lass.” Bofur chuckled as you pulled back, his eyes twinkling with relief, happiness and a bit of mischief.
“You too. And the others?” You held your breathe for a moment, but Bofur smiled.
“Yeah, they made it too. This way.” Bofur grabbed your forearm and pulled you towards the mountain.
You saw Bombur resting on a large boulder, a little bit away from all the commotion at the entrance to Erebon. Bifur was standing not far, looking around anxiously with his back to you. But you’d recognised that mass of black hair anywhere.
Bombur was the first to spot you, pushing himself off the boulder and engulfing you in a hug.
“Thorins sending for family soon. You’ll meet my wife soon.” Bombur pulled back with a smile, and you could see the excitement in his eyes at reuniting with his dear wife.
“I cant wait.” You grinned. Movement behind Bombur caught your eyes as you saw Bifur.
You ducked under Bomburs arm, you raced to Bifur, throwing your arms around him before you could get a good look at him to make sure he wasn’t hurt.
Before you could apologies, his arms locked around you, not allowing you even think about pulling away.
“Come, brothers. Lets see if Bilbo is around.” Bofurs voice wasn’t enough to pull you away from the embrace but you saw him and Bombur leaving towards the entrance.
Something seemed a little odd about it, and you thought back to the twinkle of mischief in Bofurs eyes, but didn’t want to ruin the moment.
“I was so worried about you.” You spoke just above a whisper, blinking back tears of relief.
“You cant get rid of me that easily, lass.”
The words that met your ears were strange when paired with the voice you were so use to hearing speak Khuzdul.
You pulled back, wide- eyed, earning a chuckle from Bifur.
“You- you…” you trailed off, but something looked off.
Dropping your arms, you frown as you stare at him, trying to figure out what was different. Bifur waited, a smirk on his lips as he held back laughter at your reaction.
Then you noticed the dent in his head.
“The axe!” You raised your hands over your mouth to cover your surprise. Bifur nearly keeled over as he laughed at your reaction. Proper laughter. Infectious laugher.
You smiled fondly, then giggled, then started to laugh with him.
In dirty clothes, covered in blood and dirt, with small cuts and nicks and a hell of a lot of bruising, you laughed wholeheartedly for the first time in what felt like a long time.
The world fell still around you as you lived in the moment.
As the laugher died, you found your feet closing the distant to hug him again. He pulled you tightly against himself, tighter than before.
“I love you too.” He breathed in your ear, speaking with adoration and fondness. As if he had said them a million times to you.
“really?” You smiled hopefully as you pulled back.
“Aye. I tried to tell you before, and again last night, but-“ He pulled one hand off your waist to gesture to the indent that use to have the axe.
You ducked your head slightly, smiling like an idiot as your cheeks burned red. He had tried to confess before now? You thought of all the times he had mumbled something to you, looked to you expectantly but always seemed disappointed.
Bifur leaned forward, drawing your attention back to him before kissing you again.
Neither of you noticed his cousins cheering from the distance.
