Four: Bofur

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Four: Bofur

If you had told her six months ago that she'd fall in love with the dancing and prancing dwarf, she would've called you a liar. Indeed, Bofur is everything she despised in a dwarf: loud, arrogant, and quite obnoxious. But he also holds some admirable qualities: kindness, loyalty, and cheer. So thinking of that, maybe it isn't as surprising that she fell for him.

At the moment, Bofur is doing the exact thing she dislikes about him, dancing like a moron. Indeed, his standing upon the Laketown table with flute in hand and beer in the other is off-putting to any possible suitor of his own. And to make matters worse, he is already slightly intoxicated by the man's ale, found only in the Master's mansion.

"Bofur, I wish to speak with you," Lanie shouts up to the dwarf of her nightmares, yet the one she so readily loves. She has decided that she cannot go another day, or even minute, without telling him of her feelings. Maybe it's because of the looming threat of Smaug, or just the timer of her infatuation being set off.

"Not now, Lass," Bofur responds, prompting a hard glare to erupt across Lanie's face. But all the same, she is surprised that he was able to hear her over the loud chanting of the men and tap dancing of his own feet.

"Bofur, I'm serious," Lanie shouts up again, considering getting up on the table herself so as to pull him down. However, this would just further the joyous behaviour and that's the last thing she'd ever do.

"Nice to meet you, Serious," Bofur responds with a wicked grin, directed at her and her alone. Sure, she could be happy that he actually looked at her. But then again, his words are more infuriating than not.

"You're so immature," she mutters, though Bofur hears it through the crowd. It's hard not to hear the condemning drawl of the dwarrowdam, even in a room of celebration. Then again, maybe its her negativity that makes her stand out.

"Yes, and you're tiny...are we now just stating the obvious?" Bofur asks with that grin of his, still standing upon the table and yet, at her full attention. She is far too entertaining to ignore.

"Ugh! How is it that I l-l..." she begins, only to stutter off into nonexistence. And though she earnestly hopes that Bofur did not catch that last letter, it is hard not to. Bofur perks up at the "l" sound, seeing a new opportunity to pester the female.

"Love me?" Bofur questions, squatting down so that he is closer to her height, yet still towering over her hobbit-like form.

"No!" she exerts, though the truth is in the very word "love." How is it that she was so determined to tell him and now she can't do anything but deny the option? Her plan really isn't working out, all in thanks to this terrible dwarf.

"Do you feel the fluttering of the cicadas in your ribs and the dragon in your heart?" Bofur asks, leaning closer to her face as she gapes in the loud atmosphere.

"Wha--" she begins again, only to be cut off by the hatted-dwarf.

"What about the tap dancing of dwarves under your skin?" he asks, still leaning closer and a wide smile peeking upon his cheeks. Oh yes, he is very much enjoying this.

"No..." she claims, her words falling off again as the dwarf's face is now but a nose away.

"Or the sinking feeling like waves that overcome this city? Oh, it's love alright. A monstrosity with teeth that gouge the nerves. But the real question: do you have the balls for it?" he asks, an eyebrow raising and effectively snapping her out of the trance. Of course she doesn't have the "balls" for it, but he mustn't win this debate.

"Of course I have the balls for it, you fool!" she exclaims, leaning away from his close encounter, feeling the opposite emotion as minutes ago. She would have killed to be that close to him, and yet, now she can't get far enough away. How is it that he always wins?

"What does that make you then? A half-wit?" Bofur replies, prompting her mouth to fall open in shock. Who does he think he is?

"How dare you!" she exclaims, face reddening into the coloured scales of Smaug.

"How dare I...hmm," Bofur mutters, his mind reeling back into the past, a sense of memory overwhelming him.

"This is ridiculous, I'm--" Lanie begins, only to be cut off by Bofur's remembrance of a song, sounding much like this:

"Ho! Ho! Ho! to the bottle I go
To heal my heart and drown my woe.
Rain may fall and wind may blow,
And many miles be still to go,
But under a tall tree I will lie,
And let the clouds go sailing by."

"Stop interrupting me!" Lanie exclaims, feeling more heated with each passing moment. It's one thing to cut her off, but to cut her off by song? That's a whole new level of disrespect.

"It was fitting," he simply replies, shrugging his shoulders though a small smirk marks the corner of his mouth.

"Of?" she asks, eyebrows furrowed as she releases her anger in exchange for confusion.

"An unrequited love," Bofur easily responds, and as riddling as ever before. He can never just admit to anything, after all. It is all implication with Bofur.

"This is an unrequited love?" she questions, slightly perking up at the opportunity to hear the truth come from Bofur's lips.

"No," he responds, smirk painting his features though she pays no mind. Maybe her plan is working after all...

"So you love me?" she questions further, with the intended stoic tone though Bofur hears her excitement. Maybe his plan is working after all...

"No...I love ale, and that is an unrequited love. Take from it, I do. Only to receive a pan to the head with the sun's morning rise. Aye, Ale is cruel and cold," Bofur remarks, sending Lanie into another fit of rage. She knows that he thinks of her as a plaything, but this she will no longer be. She needs no man.

"I'm done with you," she finalizes in a growl, though doesn't quite turn away as she is curious to what he will say.

"That's what the ale always says," Bofur remarks, letting out a large laugh as he returns to dancing and singing on the table. All that is left is Lanie's storming from the room, to her own chamber, and diving into a large bath. She knew this would happen, and yet it is all the more disappointing. Why did she ever fall in love with the hatted-dwarf? And why did she think it was a good idea to tell him? 

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I hope you enjoyed this one! Please leave requests in the comments!

xo

Patagonian

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