Chapter Text
The sun was going down even quicker than before, time was slipping away from Bofur trying to find Bag End as it was called. There so many hobbit holes, many of the small folk that had lingered outside their homes immediately sequestered in their homes the moment they spotted him and his brothers wandering about the Shire which he wasn't really surprised by. Strange dwarves walking around their lands must be a new experience, looking for Gandalf's mark proved to be difficult. It was said to glow so they ought to see it now the sky was darkening fast, they looked at each and every door. Peculiar shapes weren't they? Brightly painted, yellows, greens and browns. Apart from one lonely hole, the only pale blue door he had seen. The roof covered in colourful flowers and various shrubbery, such was the life here, full of greenery. Hobbits were fond of their home comforts, hardly left their homes if ever in their lives. Seemingly distant with strangers, Bofur doesn't begrudge them on that. He stared ahead as they approached the lovely pale blue door, there was movement just outside, a rustling of grass and shovelling of dirt. That very distinct sound of a shovel being stabbed into the ground, he snorts as he comes closer to the little stone fence that closed the front of the hobbit hole off from the road. Curious. Leaning over the gate to see a small woman knelt in her flowerbeds, blonde hair down to her shoulders, working hard at the dirt. Lit up by the light from within her home. How peculiar, were all hobbits this keen on doing their chores this late or was it just this one? Her back turned, he couldn't see her face but he'd wager she's rather endearing. Most Shire folk are, they had seen children milling about in the fields as they made their way through. Many of them casting curious glances, never seen any dwarrow he reckons. Bofur grins, this is a first for him. Most odd, both Bombur and Bifur have decided to keep going, trying to look for the right home. It clearly wasn't this one.
''A bit late for gardening wee lass!'' He cheers.
The woman waves him off, not bothering to get up. Too engrossed in her chores, surrounded by wild colourful flowers. This one seemed to take it all very seriously, her home completely coated in life. Growing all around her, wreaths of leaves and twigs everywhere. Bofur was curious about these homes, how the people lived here. It wasn't anything like the Blue Mountains, he'll give them that but it was nice all the same. So much sunshine, she snorts.
''Nonsense! Joy is never late!''
Bofur's eyes found the tips of her small pointy ears sticking out from under all of that hair, it was rather wild and unkempt. Spotted a few leaves here and there, she really doesn't spend much time doing anything else but gardening does she? Was there some sort of advantage to planting flowers this late in the evening? Would it make them grow faster? The little hobbit hums contently, slowly getting on her feet to inspect her work. Many colourful flowers which Bofur would no doubt enjoy much more during the daytime, where he could see them in vivid bloom. He was curious, why now?
''If you don't mind my asking miss, why in Durin's name are you planting flowers this late?''
She turned to face him, Bofur had a good look at her. Dirt on her button nose. Delicate features like that of human women but smaller, long wavy strands of hair framed her face, reaching down to the point of her chin curling outwards. He couldn't discern the colour of her eyes from a distance but they were wide and filled with so much pride. There was fire in here somewhere, in all honesty, she was quite the pretty thing. Shame about the lack of beard, women took great pride in their beards just as the men did but this hobbit was something else. Yes, pretty. That unruly hair needed taming, look as if she hadn't run a brush through it in years. Bofur snorts. The hobbit widened her stance, her hands on her hips. She wore a simple tunic dress, an apron. What drew his attention next were her rather large feet, hobbits were known for them. Despite being short in stature their feet were quite something, soft tufts of hair to keep them warm he assumed. Did they not wear any boots? Then again, when did they ever leave their holes? Bofur would've remembered a hobbit out in the wild if he ever saw one.
''To spite a neighbour.''
His brows furrowed, how does that work? Odd creature.
''How would one spite someone with a bunch of pretty flowers?''
The woman groans, looking over to the nearby hobbit holes with a deep frown. Baring her teeth like some animal, so she definitely wasn't on friendly terms with someone here. Bofur looked in the same direction she was but was greeted with nothing but the dimly lit Shire, a few lamps here and there where there were doors. Most folk would be inside having their supper around this time, putting their children to bed and whatnot. Simple life, charming life. Bofur quite liked the Shire, perhaps not as much as he did the mountains but this would be the ideal place to retire one day. Living off what the earth provided you, watching the trees swaying back and forth in the soft summer breeze. What was it like in the winter? Covered in fresh fallen snow, Bofur could almost imagine it just then. He looks back at her.
''Two words, Pansy Fairfoot.''
He laughs, so she was at war with another woman. A friendly competition perhaps? He wished to learn more of this Pansy Fairfoot, what exactly was it about her that had this poor hobbit in such a rage? Bofur decided that he didn't want experience this type of anger.
''That would be four words lassie-''
The woman points her little fingers at him, even her hands were much smaller compared to his own. Bofur suddenly looks down at his own fingers, noting just how thick they were. He quickly hid them behind his back, a sheepish smile on his face. He'd rather not address that.
''Don't undermine me Master dwarf!''
He nods.
''Apologies- Continue!''
The woman got closer to the fence, at full height the top of her head nearly reached his chin. Were there taller ones? No doubt there would be taller hobbits around, Thorin was tall for a dwarf and Bofur was quite tall, not that he likes to brag about it or anything. The hobbit in front of him gripped the fence gate tightly, she seemed exasperated. What ailed her so?
''Two holes down, miserable old crone, says my flowers are too bright. Who says that?!''
How were flowers too bright? Wouldn't this Pansy think the sun was too bright as it sits high up in the sky each and every day? Bofur didn't like the sun on very specific occasions, those specific occasions being the middle of summer in some places. Too warm for his hat, never went anywhere without his hat. No, Bofur loved the mountain best. His home, he missed it.
''Who indeed-''
She wouldn't let him finish, spirited little thing. The woman points at him though Bofur knew she wasn't referring to him in that exact moment. So expressive, Bofur was thoroughly entertained by these shenanigans. Imagine if the dwarves fought over flowers like this? Perhaps the world would be better for it if they all became gardeners in their spare time. Bofur would miss the mines though, that was the only thing. He'd miss making his little toys.
''Pansy Fairfoot, that is who! So I'm planting as many as I can until she stops complaining!''
The hobbit was smiling from ear to ear and Bofur only laughed, that ought to teach that old woman a lesson. The little woman should plant as many flowers as she could, all over the Shire.
''Bravery takes on different forms!''
So she was waging war on old Pansy Fairfoot, what a noble cause! Flowers made people happy, made them smile as they saw them. They could also be quite useful if you have the right ones, medicines and pastes. Bofur was grateful that flowers existed, beautiful flowers.
''Next, I'll plant them in her garden. Mark my words.''
There was a brief moment of silence between them, the two enjoying the sound of the crickets singing in the tall grass around them. The Shire was something else.
''I don't think I caught your name...''
The woman seemed startled, staring up at him. There was a slight tint of red in her cheeks, suppose she thought it a bit forward of him. He didn't know her, he'd most likely never see her again after this moment passes them by but Bofur would like to think that he'd remember her once they've all gone home. That he'd sit in his chair one night and think back on the hobbit woman who waged war in the middle of the night, planting her flowers. Bofur would remember her and he'd laugh, hoping that she succeeded in her mission to spite old Pansy Fairfoot. This would make for an interesting story to tell the lads later, no doubt they'll have a laugh. Curious creatures, hobbits. Very curious.
''Oh!''
The woman wipes her palms on her apron, freeing herself of the soil. He could still see a bit of dirt under her nails from when she was digging around in the ground, she held it out for him. Offering him a handshake, she's very energetic for someone so small. She chortles.
''Gilly Mugwort, at your service!''
Gilly, suited her. Bofur wasn't sure about shaking her hand now that he's noted the difference between them but it would be rude of him not to, especially a lady. He hesitated for a moment before reaching over the fence, taking her hand and shaking it. Bofur could feel Gilly squeezing it gently, her palms were surprisingly rough but it meant that she has known hard work and that she gave it her all. He admired that in people, not being afraid of work.
''Bofur at yours.''
Her smile faded a little as she looked at him, now that she was so much closer he could see that her eyes were a shade of blue. Bofur concluded that he'd much rather see them during the day so he could appreciate them more, it took him a moment to realise that he's been silently shaking her hand for a good while. Quickly retracting his hand from her, he took a step back from the fence. He ought to get going, the meeting might start at any minute. Gilly gasps, going back to gripping her gate. There was excitement in her toothy smile.
''What is a dwarf doing here of all places? Aren't you all in the mountains?''
Right, the Shire wouldn't be used to seeing dwarves wandering around their lands. Bofur vaguely gestured towards the rolling hills around them, all of these hobbit holes looked the same to him. Bag End should be here somewhere, just as Gandalf said. He had marked the door but none of the doors so far bore any marks, they must've gone in a circle twice at least. He smiled back at her, perhaps Gilly could help, she was the only hobbit who hasn't shied away from them so far. The rest all scurried off into their holes to hide, like frightened rabbits. Dwarves may be portrayed as being rather scary in some places but Bofur would reassure them that there was nothing to be afraid off, if anything dwarves and hobbits had a lot in common. Their love of food and family, home, just to name a few. Their stature was another thing but Bofur wasn't ready to go into that just yet, Gilly's eyes twinkled in the low light coming from inside her home. For a moment Bofur forgot what he was meant to say.
''I've come to seek out a hobbit, a very special one.''
Gilly pouts.
''Couldn't be me.''
Far from it, Gilly Mugwort was definitely a very special hobbit but she was right, it wasn't her. It was Bilbo, what was his last name? Bongo, Bilbo the burglar? No, that wouldn't be his name. His hand dove under his hat, scratching at his scalp. Remember his name Bofur!
''I believe he's uh- What was his name? Briggins?''
Gilly hums in thought, perhaps trying to recant how many hobbit families she knew. She must know everyone here, she shook her head and shrugged.
''No, no Briggins here.''
Try again, Bilbo...
''Boggins?''
Gilly laughs and pointed up towards the hills behind her.
''Baggins?''
Bofur snapped his finger at her, that's it. Bilbo Baggins, that was his name. The hobbit they were looking for at Bag End, the meeting place. No doubt Dwalin and Balin were already there, always punctual those two. Bofur wondered if there was any food, they were promised food. The journey has been quite difficult, long and almost unbearable but he was lucky to have Bombur and Bifur with him. He thought he saw Thorin's nephews just an hour ago or so on the road, were they there already? Bofur knew that Thorin himself would arrive last, he had told them all that he had business to attend to somewhere else but that he would show up eventually. He wouldn't miss the meeting, he was their king. He couldn't miss it, everything led up to this very moment.
''Yes! Baggins! Any idea where he lives?''
She turned a bit, pointing out the little pathway that could be found between the burrows. Bofur saw that he could travel through there to get higher up, he looked to where she was pointing. Noting large hill at the top, that is where Bag End was? Bilbo must have the greatest view over the Shire, Bofur would be sure to take it all in once he's up there. Were Gilly and Bilbo friends by any chance? No that he'd be able to bring her, the meeting was sacred, secret. No one was to know what was going on up there until the quest was over, Bofur wasn't stupid, he knew that their journey would be filled with danger and who knows what horrors the mountain might unleash. Perhaps the dragon was already dead, just fell asleep and starved. It would be their luck should they arrive and find that Smaug himself was nothing but dust and bones but he knew better than to hope, wishful thinking it was.
''Bag End, that door up there. That's where Bilbo Baggins lives, not too fond of visitors this time of night.''
So that answers his question, Gilly might not be friends with Bilbo. No matter, Bofur hoped that Gilly had some friends here. Family, there was nothing greater than family. Bofur might poke fun at Bombur here and there but he wouldn't part with him for a single second, brotherly bonds and all. He gave Gilly very playful bow and a wink, she had been most helpful. He shall remember to put her in one of his stories, as the woman who knew Bilbo. A small role but a fine one, dwarves may be too stubborn to ask for help but Bofur knew when he needed a bit of guidance. Especially in strange lands such as these, he'd come back one day perhaps. Maybe he could take it all in better when he wasn't embarking on quests.
''Thank you for the directions, I'm afraid I'm running a bit late-''
Gilly gave a fervent nod, holding out her hand again, this might just be the most exciting day she's had in her life. A bit of spiteful gardening and a run in with a dwarf, was Bofur the first one she's ever met? What an honour that would be, he felt the privilege run right through him. Happy that he's managed to make this first meeting a very good one, a friendly one. He'd leave the shire with nought but good impressions and perhaps a friend, he smiled.
''No worries! It was nice to meet you Master Bofur.''
He took her hand and shook it again, more vigorously than before. Wanting to show just how thankful he truly was, his hand completely engulfed hers, the back of her hand was very soft to the touch. Gilly Mugwort was a very interesting person, should she ever find herself outside the Shire at any point she was more than welcome to sell her flowers in Erebor. That is if Thorin agreed to it, perhaps not. Maybe in Dale, yes, Dale would be a better place for that. One day Bofur would be back at it again, selling his toys there. Making the children happy. He let go of her hand, gesturing towards her lovely flowers with a chuckle.
''It was, good luck on your gardening. You show Pansy what for!''
Gilly's smile would haunt him, in a pleasant way. Was there a pleasant way to be haunted? Usually the experience of hauntings wouldn't be all that nice, quite scary some admitted. Not that Bofur had ever been haunted, he turns and continues on his way towards the path that led up to Bag End. Putting the pretty gardener behind him, another chapter of his story done. He could smell the smoky wood from the nearby chimneys, there was nothing else like that smell. Forges were a lot different but it reminded him of that, one day he'll see them again.
''Oh- Master Bofur?!''
Like a whip he turned back to see her standing in the road, a soft smile on her face. Turn a bit faster won't you Bofur.
''Yes?''
Gilly wrung her apron tightly, one last word before he goes.
''I really like your hat.''
Bofur could feel the ends of his braids curling, sweet hobbit.