Hobbit and Lord of the Rings oneshots, Book 1

I Get to Come Home to You (Bofur)

One hand rested on your aching back and one firmly held a spoon in its grasp, stirring the bubbling contents of the pot in the fireplace. The large cauldron hung on a hook that was placed over the practically roaring fire, from which the most appetizing aroma was emanating. You stood up straight, the large swell of your pregnant belly now quite prominent. Just as you began to contemplate on the issue of which bread to serve with the stew you'd made, you heard the front door swing open with a high-pitched squeak.

"Amrâlimê, I'm home!" came the sing-song voice of your beloved husband from the front room.

"Hello, Bofur," you called back, setting the spoon down on the table. "I'm in the kitchen!" You started your long, waddling journey to the living room where your husband would be. But before you got very far, Bofur appeared in the doorway that connected the kitchen to the living room.

"Ah, there she is," Bofur sighed when he saw you, "the most beautiful woman in all of Middle Earth." He chuckled when he spotted the blush blooming on your cheeks, and quickly moved to your side. Swinging an arm about your shoulders, he pulled you close to him and gave you a kiss as consolidation for embarrassing you. "How's the little one?" he asked with a loving gleam in his warm brown eyes. He squatted down to cradle your large stomach with his large hands and murmur little confessions of immense love for his unborn child. 

"She's doing just fine. Not put up too many fights or seen how hard she can press on my bladder," you smirked. Bofur looked up at you with an equally mischievous curve on his lips. 

"You still think our wee bairn is going to be a lass, do yeh now?" You and your husband had nearly taken bets on which gender your child would be, but you had convinced him that the first thing you wanted to do after you birthed your baby was not to hand over a pouch of coins.

"Yes I do. It's called 'mother's intuition', in case you haven't heard, and it's usually right." He merely chuckled at this, shaking his hatted head and muttering about how stubborn you could be at times. You responded by snatching said hat and placing it upon your own head.

"Hey there, now. You'd better hand that over, lassie," Bofur warned playfully as he straightened up to his full height, around three inches taller than you. 

"Oh, tish-tosh. You need it off regardless, that and your boots. Supper is ready." And with that, you grabbed the spoon that lay on the tabletop and turned back to the large pot that hung over the cooking fire. Bofur's lips turned up in a smirk and his eyes held a teasing glint, and with a 'yes ma'am' he tromped back to the front room to coax off his heavy, fur-capped boots.

A few minutes later, the two of you were sat across from each other at the dining table, happily eating the warming stew and chatting about your day. You talked about your day out shopping that you and Dís had spent together, and Bofur told you all about his day at the toy shop with his cousin.

"We're still working on the babe's crib too, love," he mentioned as he brought another spoonful of hot stew to his mouth. After he swallowed, he continued, "Nearly finished with the foundations; after that it's all engravings and adornments." You nodded. "Speaking of which," he went on, "Dori says he wants to come over tomorrow and discuss the cushions and drapes and such with you. I'll be at the shop, but I'll try to come back in time to offer some opinions of my own."

You nodded again, a satisfied smile on your face. "Sounds good to me. Dori's work is always a job well done. And it's so sweet of him to offer his services to us when he's so busy tailoring and all," you said gratefully. 

Bofur grunted in agreement. "And not for a single pence, too."

A moment of silence fell over the table as you both again thought about the enormous responsibilities of parenting that lay just out of your reach. You had had these thoughts ever since you and Bofur had begun courting more than three years ago, but only recently had they truly started to weigh heavily on your shoulders. 

Shrugging off the thoughts of all the things that must be done later on, you went back to finishing off your bowl of stew. As you were scraping the last bit of broth from the bottom of the wooden bowl, Bofur stretched out his arm to take your empty hand in his own, squeezing it gently. 

Looking up, you saw the kindest, calmest, most loving look on his handsome face. His chocolate brown eyes gazed into your (e/c) ones, lost in both the windows of your soul and the thought of just how much he loved you.

"You really are the loveliest woman in Middle Earth; I hope you know that," your husband assured you, resting his cheek on his hand.

"Oh my goodness," you giggled, "you are just a little lovestruck schoolboy, aren't you?"

Bofur shrugged, his signature grin tearing across his face. "Maybe so. 'M just so helplessly in love. Can't help it, I suppose."

You laughed and shook your head. "Well, you certainly are. Now, if you could manage to tear your eyes away from me for more than two seconds, I would greatly appreciate it if the dishes were to be washed," you hinted a little less than subtly. Bofur merely winked and grabbed the bowls and spoons from the table, happily trotting to the dish basin to complete the requested chore.

Smiling, you sank back in your chair. With Bofur as your husband, you truly were the luckiest woman alive.

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Wow, guys! First part in a while!!

I've been kind of on a Bofur frenzy lately...especially now that I'm home from school from the summer and I can watch my hobbit movies and actually have time to write!

I've had writer's block for the past few months, which is unbelievably frustrating, but my creative juices are FINALLY flowing again!!!!! This part actually took me a super long time to finish, so I apologize...but now that I can actually write, I should be getting a LOT done!

!!!Expect updates!!!