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Dwarven courtship was a private thing… a secret, furtive thing, especially at the first… and could last decades before even the closest of friends or family were let to know of a budding romance.
It would be horribly shameful for anyone outside of the courting pair to guess.. so in the close confines of the traveling Company, courtship became even more subtle and secretive.
Thorin congratulated himself, a little extra swagger in his step… oh, he had managed to communicate his intent clearly to Bilbo without any risk of discovery… twice he had brushed his sleeve against Bilbo’s as they walked today… when no one was looking, of course. He had been very careful of that. Bilbo had made no response at the time, of course, as was proper…
But Thorin knew that soon he could expect to receive an answer… he only hoped that the Hobbit would continue to be discreet…
Bofur’s heart thrilled as he passed a bowl of stew to Bilbo, daring to position his fingers so they touched the Hobbit’s as the bowl changed hands… terribly forward of him, and risky, but the passion of his heart would not be denied… and he had made sure that their hands were shadowed so no one could see.
Bilbo made no reaction, accepting the bowl and thanking him, but Bofur’s heart jumped in his chest.
Soon, he hoped… Bilbo would answer. How could he ignore such a bold declaration?
Thorin was worried. It had been days, and still Bilbo had given him no response, either positive or negative, though whether this was from an excess of caution or through disinterest Thorin could not guess.
It was clear that a second communication of intent was needed… though it was almost criminally rude to press the issue so soon… Still, he could not contain himself. He only hoped his boldness would be seen to illustrate the depth of his passion, instead of being seen as pushy.
It took careful planning, to make sure that nobody saw, but he managed to bump his elbow into the Hobbit in passing. It was terribly intimate, for so early in the game, but he could not bear to hold back… he felt almost shaky, though he hid it well, as he moved away from Bilbo.
The Hobbit very properly ignored it, but surely now the Hobbit would understand the depth of his feelings, and would not leave him waiting without an answer…
Bofur was frantic… so many days with no answer! Was Bilbo teasing him? Playing hard to get? Or did the Hobbit consider the miner so far below him that the gesture of courtship was ridiculous and not worthy of an answer?
He was in such a state of agitation over it that he would have gladly skipped the preliminaries and slipped a pebble into the Hobbit’s boot if Bilbo wore any.
But no… he must find some way to communicate the depth of his feelings, that his interest was fueled by more than just blind lust. Yes, clearly his first declaration had been too forceful, all fire and no depth. He would do better. He must do better.
That night, as he brushed his hair, he secreted one of his shed hairs in his palm. On some errand or another, he walked past Bilbo’s bedroll and dropped the hair so it lay across the rolled jacket the Hobbit used as a pillow.
He blushed with the intimacy of it, glad that it was dark and he was facing away from the fire. By the time he had completed his errand he had himself back under control. He made sure not to watch too closely when Bilbo went to bed, but his heart pounded with excitement.
Soon, soon Bilbo would give him an answer… he allowed himself to wonder what form the answer would take… the brush of a sleeve against his?.. or dare he hope, a pebble in his boot?.. or, even, a wink? He blushed at the boldness of the thought, settling into his own bedroll.
Soon, though… it must happen soon.
Thorin held himself together through sheer force of will. Never had he been so snubbed in love… never. Despite the boldness of his declarations the Hobbit had seen fit to leave him unanswered.
Still, he was a King. He would carry on, and hope, someday, to be worthy of Bilbo. Perhaps, when he had his Kingdom back, he would be in a position to try again…
Bofur thought that he would surely die of a broken heart. Never had he been so bold and gotten no response. He sadly watched Bilbo walking along ahead of him… those silly big feet that were so nimble, those beautiful delicate hands that were so clever but who’s touch he would never know, all those lovely curls who’s texture he would never get to feel…
Oh, he would surely die of a broken heart…
Bilbo whistled cheerfully as he hiked along. It was a beautiful day, the sun had finally come out after days of rain and everything was good in his world.
He wasn’t watching where he was going well enough, and stumbled slightly over a root, almost bumping into Dwalin, but catching himself before more than their sleeves brushed.
He did not notice the warrior’s face go bright red with embarrassment… or hear the shocked and heartbroken gasps of the king and the miner who were walking behind them.
