Fic: "Dog-Watch," The Hobbit, Bofur/Kili, Bilbo/Thorin, PG-13
I just can't stop with the "An Unexpected Journey" fic. I'm supposed to be updating "Fear, Itself," for goodness sake!
Since the plot for this, such as it is, is taken directly from The Question, I blame this fic on and dedicate it to
alex_quine.
Dog-Watch (1/1)
Author:
_beetle_
Fandom: The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey
Pairing: Bofur/Kili, Pre-slash, implied Bilbo/Thorin
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: Approx. 1,000
Notes/Warnings: Spoilers for the movie and probably the book. Can be read as a standalone or as a sequel to An unexpected Idyll.
Summary: Bofur and Kili share the dog-watch and ask each other questions.
“May I ask you something, Master Bofur?”
Bofur looks up from the flames of the campfire and at his watch-mate. Kili's dark eyes are sparkling not with mischief, but with simple curiosity.
Adjusting his pipe, Bofur breathes out smoke in concentric rings. A neat trick taught to him by none other than their esteemed burglar, who sleeps just across the fire. “Of course. Only if I may ask you something in return, Master Kili,” he adds, partly out of curiosity of his own, partly as a deterrent, just in case there is some silly jest behind Kili's curiosity, after all.
But, jest or no, Kili is nothing, if not persistent. He moves from the other side of the fire, until he's practically in Bofur's lap. He and Fili have no real concept of personal space-even for Dwarves. Kili even reaches out and tweaks one of the flaps of Bofur's hat. “This, then. Where'd you get it and why're you always wearing it? You're bald, under there, aren't you?”
“I might be.” Almost absently swatting Kili's hand away, Bofur huffs out smoke in a long white plume. “Why do you wear your hair unbraided and your beard so short? It makes you look like a child, when you are most certainly not.”
Kili looks gobsmacked for a moment-he even sits back, eyes darting to the other side of the fire, where he'd last been sitting. Where sleep Thorin and Bilbo, the former curled protectively-possessively-around the latter. They always sleep together so, since the day Bilbo nearly died saving Thorin's life. It's an open secret among the fellowship that the pair are lovers, though there is never any talk of it among them.
“I reckon I do it because I'm like Thorin," Kili finally says quietly, looking troubled and discontented as he stares at Thorin and Bilbo. "I reckon I do it so I'll not be caught by either braid or beard.”
Bofur snorts out a cloud of smoke. “And we see how well not getting caught's worked out for Thorin! I'd say he's been well and truly caught. And not necessarily by braid or beard!”
Kili turns red enough that it's visible even this close to the fire, and Bofur laughs, peering closely at the young Dwarf. But Kili won't meet his eyes, instead searching the fire as if for a revelation. "I know . . . he went his whole life without being caught, and now . . . Master Baggins has burgled him as surely as if he was a pile of unguarded gold!" Kili shakes his head in abject puzzlement and Bofur feels rather sorry for him.
“It's not so bad, being caught, you know?” Bofur ventures kindly. Kili's small, wry smile is but a shadow of his usual bright, mischievous one. “Even I caught and was caught, once upon a time. When I was not much older than yourself.”
“Really?” Now Kili sneaks a curious look at him. A measuring, wary look. “What happened to her?”
“Him. And there came a time when we both decided to let go.” Pausing to tamp down the contents of his pipe, Bofur shrugs just a tad regretfully. “He got caught by a pretty maid and I got caught up in . . . being solitary, I suppose.”
“Oh,” Kili's eyes dart back to the fire again, ferret-quick and troubled once more. “I'm sorry.”
“Don't be. It was lovely, while it lasted.” Smiling, Bofur elbows Kili in the side and the younger Dwarf starts, then smiles that small smile again. “Listen, there's nothing wrong with being caught, every now and then, young Master Kili. The trick is to not be caught by just anyone, but by someone of quality."
“Is that so? And, er, who would you recommend I catch or be caught by?” Those dark eyes flash suddenly, challengingly at Bofur, who grins around his pipe. “Thorin's taken the prettiest member of the fellowship.”
“Oh, I wouldn't say that he had,” Bofur replies his gaze as direct as his tone is nonchalant. Kili's eyes widen slightly and that deep blush springs up again.
“Unfortunately for me, Fili only likes women,” he jests, looking away again. But this time, Bofur reaches out and turns Kili's face back till their eyes meet once more. The younger Dwarf's beard is soft and almost downy under his callused fingertips.
“I wasn't speaking of your brother.”
“I had a feeling that you weren't.” Kili swallows, and that small smile widens as slow as poured honey. He tweaks one of the flaps of Bofur's hat again. “I've answered your question, Master Bofur. What about mine? What's under the hat? Are you bald as an egg under there?”
This time, Bofur doesn't swat Kili's hand away. Instead, he quirks a bushy eyebrow and puts his pipe aside for the moment. “Take it off and find out.”
Grinning, Kili gives the flap another experimental tug before carefully removing the hat. His eyes widen again and he blinks a few times before chuckling softly and mussing the few thick, bunched braids and mostly loose hair he finds under the hat, so that the whole mess falls down around Bofur's angular face. The hat gets placed to the side then forgotten by Kili, but not quite by Bofur, who's worn the hat since the morning his mother gave it to him. She'd known even then that without someone else to comb and braid Bofur's hair properly, it would remain a mess fit only for a good, warm hat.
“Master Bofur,” Kili states somberly, but still laughing, even as he runs his fingers through the loose hair and over the messy braids as if trying to arrange it all into something aesthetically pleasing. “Why, I've half a mind to take out my comb! You've got enough hair to fur a whole 'nother Dwarf-you're not bald at all!”
Bofur returns Kili's grin, and lets his hair be petted and his braids be tugged this way and that. It's a start. And much has been made of less, he reminds himself.
But aloud he says, and to another widening of Kili's pretty dark eyes:
“Well, what do you know, Master Kili? You've caught me.”
The End
Since the plot for this, such as it is, is taken directly from The Question, I blame this fic on and dedicate it to
alex_quine.
Dog-Watch (1/1)
Author:
_beetle_
Fandom: The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey
Pairing: Bofur/Kili, Pre-slash, implied Bilbo/Thorin
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: Approx. 1,000
Notes/Warnings: Spoilers for the movie and probably the book. Can be read as a standalone or as a sequel to An unexpected Idyll.
Summary: Bofur and Kili share the dog-watch and ask each other questions.
“May I ask you something, Master Bofur?”
Bofur looks up from the flames of the campfire and at his watch-mate. Kili's dark eyes are sparkling not with mischief, but with simple curiosity.
Adjusting his pipe, Bofur breathes out smoke in concentric rings. A neat trick taught to him by none other than their esteemed burglar, who sleeps just across the fire. “Of course. Only if I may ask you something in return, Master Kili,” he adds, partly out of curiosity of his own, partly as a deterrent, just in case there is some silly jest behind Kili's curiosity, after all.
But, jest or no, Kili is nothing, if not persistent. He moves from the other side of the fire, until he's practically in Bofur's lap. He and Fili have no real concept of personal space-even for Dwarves. Kili even reaches out and tweaks one of the flaps of Bofur's hat. “This, then. Where'd you get it and why're you always wearing it? You're bald, under there, aren't you?”
“I might be.” Almost absently swatting Kili's hand away, Bofur huffs out smoke in a long white plume. “Why do you wear your hair unbraided and your beard so short? It makes you look like a child, when you are most certainly not.”
Kili looks gobsmacked for a moment-he even sits back, eyes darting to the other side of the fire, where he'd last been sitting. Where sleep Thorin and Bilbo, the former curled protectively-possessively-around the latter. They always sleep together so, since the day Bilbo nearly died saving Thorin's life. It's an open secret among the fellowship that the pair are lovers, though there is never any talk of it among them.
“I reckon I do it because I'm like Thorin," Kili finally says quietly, looking troubled and discontented as he stares at Thorin and Bilbo. "I reckon I do it so I'll not be caught by either braid or beard.”
Bofur snorts out a cloud of smoke. “And we see how well not getting caught's worked out for Thorin! I'd say he's been well and truly caught. And not necessarily by braid or beard!”
Kili turns red enough that it's visible even this close to the fire, and Bofur laughs, peering closely at the young Dwarf. But Kili won't meet his eyes, instead searching the fire as if for a revelation. "I know . . . he went his whole life without being caught, and now . . . Master Baggins has burgled him as surely as if he was a pile of unguarded gold!" Kili shakes his head in abject puzzlement and Bofur feels rather sorry for him.
“It's not so bad, being caught, you know?” Bofur ventures kindly. Kili's small, wry smile is but a shadow of his usual bright, mischievous one. “Even I caught and was caught, once upon a time. When I was not much older than yourself.”
“Really?” Now Kili sneaks a curious look at him. A measuring, wary look. “What happened to her?”
“Him. And there came a time when we both decided to let go.” Pausing to tamp down the contents of his pipe, Bofur shrugs just a tad regretfully. “He got caught by a pretty maid and I got caught up in . . . being solitary, I suppose.”
“Oh,” Kili's eyes dart back to the fire again, ferret-quick and troubled once more. “I'm sorry.”
“Don't be. It was lovely, while it lasted.” Smiling, Bofur elbows Kili in the side and the younger Dwarf starts, then smiles that small smile again. “Listen, there's nothing wrong with being caught, every now and then, young Master Kili. The trick is to not be caught by just anyone, but by someone of quality."
“Is that so? And, er, who would you recommend I catch or be caught by?” Those dark eyes flash suddenly, challengingly at Bofur, who grins around his pipe. “Thorin's taken the prettiest member of the fellowship.”
“Oh, I wouldn't say that he had,” Bofur replies his gaze as direct as his tone is nonchalant. Kili's eyes widen slightly and that deep blush springs up again.
“Unfortunately for me, Fili only likes women,” he jests, looking away again. But this time, Bofur reaches out and turns Kili's face back till their eyes meet once more. The younger Dwarf's beard is soft and almost downy under his callused fingertips.
“I wasn't speaking of your brother.”
“I had a feeling that you weren't.” Kili swallows, and that small smile widens as slow as poured honey. He tweaks one of the flaps of Bofur's hat again. “I've answered your question, Master Bofur. What about mine? What's under the hat? Are you bald as an egg under there?”
This time, Bofur doesn't swat Kili's hand away. Instead, he quirks a bushy eyebrow and puts his pipe aside for the moment. “Take it off and find out.”
Grinning, Kili gives the flap another experimental tug before carefully removing the hat. His eyes widen again and he blinks a few times before chuckling softly and mussing the few thick, bunched braids and mostly loose hair he finds under the hat, so that the whole mess falls down around Bofur's angular face. The hat gets placed to the side then forgotten by Kili, but not quite by Bofur, who's worn the hat since the morning his mother gave it to him. She'd known even then that without someone else to comb and braid Bofur's hair properly, it would remain a mess fit only for a good, warm hat.
“Master Bofur,” Kili states somberly, but still laughing, even as he runs his fingers through the loose hair and over the messy braids as if trying to arrange it all into something aesthetically pleasing. “Why, I've half a mind to take out my comb! You've got enough hair to fur a whole 'nother Dwarf-you're not bald at all!”
Bofur returns Kili's grin, and lets his hair be petted and his braids be tugged this way and that. It's a start. And much has been made of less, he reminds himself.
But aloud he says, and to another widening of Kili's pretty dark eyes:
“Well, what do you know, Master Kili? You've caught me.”
The End