Chapter Text
She’d just been dozing when a small groan came from the bed. Amber eyes popped open and she jumped from her seat to the side of the bed, running her fingers through the disheveled hair of her beloved. At her ministrations the dwarf groaned again, though this time it was met with a bit of curiosity, “Bofur?”
The miner grunted as his brown eyes, still a bit hazy from the poison, opened, blinked a bit and then leaned into the small palm. Turning eyes towards the dainty thing that was radiating an amazing feeling of comfort through the lad’s addled body, he followed it up past bare elbow and short white sleeves that were too big for the wee shoulders they sat on, thus baring one to his curious gaze. Once he’d managed to tear himself away from the pretty freckled thing, truly he’d have to count them in a tic, he found himself staring at a cute little stubborn chin that thrust out as he surveyed the lands, sitting below the lushest pink curves he’d seen in his long years. Truly those lips alone warranted a third and fourth take. But he persevered up past a dainty little nose and into the prettiest pair of amber gems he’d ever come across. Though they were currently looking a mite cross as he continued to look into them, best to avoid angering somethin’ so pretty and pink. Maybe if he found out who this sweet thing was he could get it smilin’ for him, “Who…?”
Seeing his confusion written across his wrinkled brow, she reached out again and brushed the fallen hair once more and gave a small smile to her felled love, “It’s me, Bilbo. Do you remember what happened?”
He didn’t hear anything past that dimpled smile, made all the cuter for being asymmetric. Staring into the precious indent in her right cheek he mumbled the first thing that came to mind, “But yer a picture... Are ye here for me? Did Mahal send ye to take me ta the Hall? I’ve sure died…”
The reverent tone of the first mumbled statement went a long way in calming Bilbo as she listened to her idiot prattle on about being deceased. With a roll of the eyes and a deepening of dimple (something Bofur noticed and let a none too subtle appreciative groan for) she shook her head and grasped his hands, “No, no dear one. You’re confused, no doubt the lingering effects from the spiders... I’m your wife.”
She felt the sudden clench of his hands as his eyes widened comically, though still rather hazy and a bit lopsided, “Yer me – We’re married? Truly? By Mahal’s Forges am I a wizard then? Ta nab such as you’d be a magic indeed…” That same note of reverence was in his deep voice as he suddenly tried to reach up and lay trembling fingers onto her cheek. He missed mind you, by a long shot, landing a flailing limb somewhere nearer the side table and upending a water flagon, but the sentiment was there.
With a soft giggle Bilbo nabbed the miscreant limb and brought it to its intended resting space, turning her head to kiss his palm as his eyes began to droop once more. Even so, the miner struggled against the sleep that would take him away from this dream, for surely he wasn’t so lucky as to actually have married a lass such as this one, nor smart enough to trick her into it, he knew his limitations after all. With a lopsided imitation of his normal cheeky grin he held the hand in his a bit tighter, slowly tugging it till it came away from her lap and fell to his chest, “Well ‘en, iff’n yer me wife can I ‘ave a wee goodnight kiss?” That got the sweet little giggle to well up again and a warm spread of pink to race across the smooth skin of her bare cheeks. His last drowsy thought as she came closer was how he favored that rush of color more than anything he’d ever seen in his mines.
Bofur was sleeping before she managed to bend over him, one hand still clutching her own on his chest. With a soft smile she reserved for her sleeping nephew and husband, Bilbo laid a soft peck on his lips, watching as the grin he slept with widened at the contact. Then, with some careful maneuvering, she managed to rearrange them so she lay with their clasped hands on his chest, her head on his shoulder, sleep claiming the pair.
The next morning found Bofur completely unaware of the previous night’s conversation. Though whatever it was he’d said he wished dearly he could remember as he found himself with arms full of sweet, yielding, and enthusiastic hobbit wife.