Good Things by Broadbeam
Mar. 1st, 2014 02:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
greatandgrey posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
b2memTitle: Good Things
Author Name: Broadbeam
Prompt: Morning After
Summary: A mysterious staircase leads Bofur to a moment of peace and comfort.
Rating: General
Warnings: brief talk of suicide ideation
Author's Notes: A scene from a larger work (working title Kitâbu Khazâd), set in late May 2864 when Bofur was a dwarf in his fifties; his family is making their move from the South Blue Mountains (where their home was previously destroyed) to find a new beginning in the North Blue Mountains, and this is a glimpse of their journey. Also there is a glimpse of the Durin household at the end. :)
The scent of the after-rain, the dribble of the remaining raindrops from the tips of leaves, and in the not-too-far distance the sound of wood being whittled - all these greeted Bofur into morning. He opened his eyes to find that he had slept right against the archway of the balcony. Any gratitude that he had for not falling over the railing and plummeting to his death - they must have been in one of the taller mountains - was overshadowed upon realizing that his only bedclothes were damp from last night’s rain.
Grumbling under his breath, he sat upright and pulled his messy hair back into the low ponytail he always wore then stretched to get the circulation through his tired body. From the corner of his eye he could make out his brother Bombur still sleeping, and luckily for Bombur he was far from where the rain could touch him. Bifur was no where to be found, but the bits of wood shavings on the ground indicated what Bifur had been doing moments before.
To confirm his suspicions, the door of their room was left ajar, and Bofur slipped out in time to see Bifur who was already down a flight of stairs and speaking to a dwarf with a golden mane of hair. The other dwarf seemed jubilant to see the wooden toy in Bifur’s hand; a few silver and a golden coin were exchanged, and the toy was pocketed with care in the dwarf’s satchel.
Bofur couldn’t see exactly how much the dwarf paid Bifur, but he dared hope it would be enough for a meal. Just the thought of food, and of noting the rumbling in his stomach, dampened his spirits more than the rain had, and he slipped back into their room of the inn to warm up by the fireplace. Outside this room were dwarves getting ready for their day, either travel or making the final stretch home, but they all knew where they were going. A family, a job, a home - it was all there for them. But Bofur only had his family, or what was left of it after the series of disasters. And what new home they were traveling to was still a mystery, as was the idea of even having enough to afford a new home. Bifur would have to sell a lot more dolls if they were to secure a dwelling big enough for the three of them.
His pessimism creeping by each passing second, Bofur made for the balcony. It opened to a clear view of the dwarves hustling about outside the mountain range, but that was not what interested Bofur in that moment. Last night he had not noticed the staircase which fed into the balcony. With its color just like the blue-green of the mountain surface and the trees about, in the dark the staircase was barely noticeable.
With his curiosity piqued, Bofur decided to climb the stairs just to see where it would lead him. Thankfully there were rails for him to hold onto, as he kept glancing down in envy of the dwarves below who knew their places in life.
The stairs led him to the very top of the mountain, and Bofur realized that he was mistaken in thinking they were residing in one of the taller mountains.
He stepped onto the open landing and took a good look around him.
The great Blue Mountain stretched farther than the eye could see, and on this late Spring morning all around him were hues of green and blue, nothing at all like the scenery Bofur grew up with in the Southern Blue Mountains, south of the Grey Havens. Last night’s rain had left a sweet scent mingling in the air, emitting from the leaves of the trees nearby, and there was something which Bofur could not quite place, something in the breeze which lifted his spirits. He felt a sort of optimism which he had never felt before, a sense that the world was at last to offer him mercy and to give him joy.
“There you are,” Bifur said in their native tongue as he caught up with him, slowed down only by the cane he needed for support since his injury. “Bombur said he saw you disappear off the balcony the moment he opened his eyes, so I came to investigate. Glad you decided to take a staircase than to drop to the markets below.”
“Do you and Bombur really suspect I would do that?” Bofur asked, his eyebrows raised, but the look Bifur gave him was answer enough. Bofur himself could not deny the despair that had been residing in his own heart. Had it not been for his curiosity in seeing where the strange staircase led, he would have eventually considered falling to his death. He certainly would have done it last night what with the mindset he was in.
“I suppose I would have in the end,” Bofur said. “We have little to no money, and the thought of trying to start anew in the region of the mountains I’ve never set foot in before, quite frankly, terrifies me. But this is a nice view here - very nice. I never imagined the Northern regions to be filled with so much beauty. Are the walls of the dwarven homes here really made of turquoise? I almost envy the refugees of Erebor for taking claim to these lands.”
“Our old home was certainly not as grand,” Bifur agreed, “but doesn’t that fill you with promise for what’s to come? That was what your mother named you - Kharêz, ‘hope.’ Now live up to that name! You are only in your fifties, still getting used to being an adult!”
“I daresay I’ve been an adult for a very long time,” Bofur said.
“Doesn’t matter! Your life shall turn itself around soon!”
Bofur smiled at him. “I hope you are right, cousin!”
Laughing, Bifur tapped him on his back. “Now, go! Get some meat on those bones!” Joining him in laughter, Bofur raced him back to their rooms, his heart filling more and more with hope for the future.
“There is indeed promise of good things to come in the air,” he thought and he could not wait to see what his new life would bring.
***
In another part of the Northern Blue Mountains, Doli stepped into his home. His eyes were quickly drawn to the small dwarf sitting upright next to the table. Fíli sat with his hands clasped before him as if in the middle of a lesson, waiting with all the patience unseen in any child.
The child was born old, Doli thought and shivered. His son’s behavior was not the result of how either he nor his wife Dís had raised him. He simply was this way from the moment he drew breath. A true heir in the making, Thorin had said of the child.
“Hello, father,” Fíli greeted in a far too polite and professional tone for one of his age. Dwarf children should be bouncing about and loud and reckless. Speaking to his own son, Doli felt considerably younger.
“At least he does not hate me,” Doli thought.
“Hello, son,” he said. “Has it begun yet?”
“Yes. The midwife said the baby will come any moment.” As if on cue, Dís’s cry of pain was heard, but Fíli didn’t flinch.
“I will speak with them in a minute,” Doli said. “I wanted to show you what I got for you first. Found a very talented toymaker near the inn today. It seems he’s going to set up a shop around here, but I got one of his toys in advance. How exciting is that! You can tell your sibling all about owning the new toy before the shop ever opened!”
Fíli only politely nodded his head, as if he was the father and Doli was his bright-eyed child. Doli fought not to let that puncture his own excitement.
“Well, look what I got for you,” Doli said as he set the meticulously-crafted doll before his son. “They’re called lions, and they roam in the far South lands. Their manes are golden and their teeth are sharp, and their mighty roars, it is said, commands the entire kingdom. Just like you, I thought!”
“It is indeed nice,” Fíli said, “though I am not sure about my teeth being sharp. All the same, I am outgrowing toys, Father.”
“You are but five years old!”
“And I have a younger sibling to look after now,” Fíli pointed out just as Dís gave another sharp cry.
There was a sudden commotion inside Dís’s room, and Doli cursed himself for not being in there. Moments later the midwife Jústa burst through the door.
“Bless me - the child came to this world laughing!” she announced breathlessly, grinning from ear to ear.
Doli rushed to the room with Fíli patiently walking behind.
The tiny newborn, washed and bundled up, was cradled in Dís’s arms, and indeed the cries sounded more like a melodious laughter - “Laa…laa!”
“Bless my little girl!” Dís said proudly.
Doli chuckled as he studied their newborn. The infant didn’t inherit his own golden locks; her face, short curly hair, and coloring was darker, more like those of Durin’s Line, but her eyes were dark like his, and the softest of downy hair ran from her jaw to her tiny round chin.
“Have you selected an inner name?” Doli asked.
Dís nodded; the name will be revealed to Doli at another time when the other dwarves were not surrounding them. “As for her outer…a name to match her brother’s, I would think?”
“I had consulted the book, and I was thinking of Kíli,” Doli said, studying his daughter’s face. “Seems to fit her.”
Dís smiled, her eyes bright at hearing the name. “A Kíli she is!”
They called over Fíli, who slowly approached the infant in his mother’s arms.
“Kíli,” Fíli repeated, and the faintest smile appeared on his face just as his shoulders relaxed for the first time in his entire life. He met his parents’ eyes. “It sounds like my name. I like it.”
Dís and Doli exchanged a grin.
“I feel good things are coming ahead, with a child who laughs with her first breath!” Dís said, giving her newborn a soft kiss on her brow.
Author Name: Broadbeam
Prompt: Morning After
Summary: A mysterious staircase leads Bofur to a moment of peace and comfort.
Rating: General
Warnings: brief talk of suicide ideation
Author's Notes: A scene from a larger work (working title Kitâbu Khazâd), set in late May 2864 when Bofur was a dwarf in his fifties; his family is making their move from the South Blue Mountains (where their home was previously destroyed) to find a new beginning in the North Blue Mountains, and this is a glimpse of their journey. Also there is a glimpse of the Durin household at the end. :)
The scent of the after-rain, the dribble of the remaining raindrops from the tips of leaves, and in the not-too-far distance the sound of wood being whittled - all these greeted Bofur into morning. He opened his eyes to find that he had slept right against the archway of the balcony. Any gratitude that he had for not falling over the railing and plummeting to his death - they must have been in one of the taller mountains - was overshadowed upon realizing that his only bedclothes were damp from last night’s rain.
Grumbling under his breath, he sat upright and pulled his messy hair back into the low ponytail he always wore then stretched to get the circulation through his tired body. From the corner of his eye he could make out his brother Bombur still sleeping, and luckily for Bombur he was far from where the rain could touch him. Bifur was no where to be found, but the bits of wood shavings on the ground indicated what Bifur had been doing moments before.
To confirm his suspicions, the door of their room was left ajar, and Bofur slipped out in time to see Bifur who was already down a flight of stairs and speaking to a dwarf with a golden mane of hair. The other dwarf seemed jubilant to see the wooden toy in Bifur’s hand; a few silver and a golden coin were exchanged, and the toy was pocketed with care in the dwarf’s satchel.
Bofur couldn’t see exactly how much the dwarf paid Bifur, but he dared hope it would be enough for a meal. Just the thought of food, and of noting the rumbling in his stomach, dampened his spirits more than the rain had, and he slipped back into their room of the inn to warm up by the fireplace. Outside this room were dwarves getting ready for their day, either travel or making the final stretch home, but they all knew where they were going. A family, a job, a home - it was all there for them. But Bofur only had his family, or what was left of it after the series of disasters. And what new home they were traveling to was still a mystery, as was the idea of even having enough to afford a new home. Bifur would have to sell a lot more dolls if they were to secure a dwelling big enough for the three of them.
His pessimism creeping by each passing second, Bofur made for the balcony. It opened to a clear view of the dwarves hustling about outside the mountain range, but that was not what interested Bofur in that moment. Last night he had not noticed the staircase which fed into the balcony. With its color just like the blue-green of the mountain surface and the trees about, in the dark the staircase was barely noticeable.
With his curiosity piqued, Bofur decided to climb the stairs just to see where it would lead him. Thankfully there were rails for him to hold onto, as he kept glancing down in envy of the dwarves below who knew their places in life.
The stairs led him to the very top of the mountain, and Bofur realized that he was mistaken in thinking they were residing in one of the taller mountains.
He stepped onto the open landing and took a good look around him.
The great Blue Mountain stretched farther than the eye could see, and on this late Spring morning all around him were hues of green and blue, nothing at all like the scenery Bofur grew up with in the Southern Blue Mountains, south of the Grey Havens. Last night’s rain had left a sweet scent mingling in the air, emitting from the leaves of the trees nearby, and there was something which Bofur could not quite place, something in the breeze which lifted his spirits. He felt a sort of optimism which he had never felt before, a sense that the world was at last to offer him mercy and to give him joy.
“There you are,” Bifur said in their native tongue as he caught up with him, slowed down only by the cane he needed for support since his injury. “Bombur said he saw you disappear off the balcony the moment he opened his eyes, so I came to investigate. Glad you decided to take a staircase than to drop to the markets below.”
“Do you and Bombur really suspect I would do that?” Bofur asked, his eyebrows raised, but the look Bifur gave him was answer enough. Bofur himself could not deny the despair that had been residing in his own heart. Had it not been for his curiosity in seeing where the strange staircase led, he would have eventually considered falling to his death. He certainly would have done it last night what with the mindset he was in.
“I suppose I would have in the end,” Bofur said. “We have little to no money, and the thought of trying to start anew in the region of the mountains I’ve never set foot in before, quite frankly, terrifies me. But this is a nice view here - very nice. I never imagined the Northern regions to be filled with so much beauty. Are the walls of the dwarven homes here really made of turquoise? I almost envy the refugees of Erebor for taking claim to these lands.”
“Our old home was certainly not as grand,” Bifur agreed, “but doesn’t that fill you with promise for what’s to come? That was what your mother named you - Kharêz, ‘hope.’ Now live up to that name! You are only in your fifties, still getting used to being an adult!”
“I daresay I’ve been an adult for a very long time,” Bofur said.
“Doesn’t matter! Your life shall turn itself around soon!”
Bofur smiled at him. “I hope you are right, cousin!”
Laughing, Bifur tapped him on his back. “Now, go! Get some meat on those bones!” Joining him in laughter, Bofur raced him back to their rooms, his heart filling more and more with hope for the future.
“There is indeed promise of good things to come in the air,” he thought and he could not wait to see what his new life would bring.
***
In another part of the Northern Blue Mountains, Doli stepped into his home. His eyes were quickly drawn to the small dwarf sitting upright next to the table. Fíli sat with his hands clasped before him as if in the middle of a lesson, waiting with all the patience unseen in any child.
The child was born old, Doli thought and shivered. His son’s behavior was not the result of how either he nor his wife Dís had raised him. He simply was this way from the moment he drew breath. A true heir in the making, Thorin had said of the child.
“Hello, father,” Fíli greeted in a far too polite and professional tone for one of his age. Dwarf children should be bouncing about and loud and reckless. Speaking to his own son, Doli felt considerably younger.
“At least he does not hate me,” Doli thought.
“Hello, son,” he said. “Has it begun yet?”
“Yes. The midwife said the baby will come any moment.” As if on cue, Dís’s cry of pain was heard, but Fíli didn’t flinch.
“I will speak with them in a minute,” Doli said. “I wanted to show you what I got for you first. Found a very talented toymaker near the inn today. It seems he’s going to set up a shop around here, but I got one of his toys in advance. How exciting is that! You can tell your sibling all about owning the new toy before the shop ever opened!”
Fíli only politely nodded his head, as if he was the father and Doli was his bright-eyed child. Doli fought not to let that puncture his own excitement.
“Well, look what I got for you,” Doli said as he set the meticulously-crafted doll before his son. “They’re called lions, and they roam in the far South lands. Their manes are golden and their teeth are sharp, and their mighty roars, it is said, commands the entire kingdom. Just like you, I thought!”
“It is indeed nice,” Fíli said, “though I am not sure about my teeth being sharp. All the same, I am outgrowing toys, Father.”
“You are but five years old!”
“And I have a younger sibling to look after now,” Fíli pointed out just as Dís gave another sharp cry.
There was a sudden commotion inside Dís’s room, and Doli cursed himself for not being in there. Moments later the midwife Jústa burst through the door.
“Bless me - the child came to this world laughing!” she announced breathlessly, grinning from ear to ear.
Doli rushed to the room with Fíli patiently walking behind.
The tiny newborn, washed and bundled up, was cradled in Dís’s arms, and indeed the cries sounded more like a melodious laughter - “Laa…laa!”
“Bless my little girl!” Dís said proudly.
Doli chuckled as he studied their newborn. The infant didn’t inherit his own golden locks; her face, short curly hair, and coloring was darker, more like those of Durin’s Line, but her eyes were dark like his, and the softest of downy hair ran from her jaw to her tiny round chin.
“Have you selected an inner name?” Doli asked.
Dís nodded; the name will be revealed to Doli at another time when the other dwarves were not surrounding them. “As for her outer…a name to match her brother’s, I would think?”
“I had consulted the book, and I was thinking of Kíli,” Doli said, studying his daughter’s face. “Seems to fit her.”
Dís smiled, her eyes bright at hearing the name. “A Kíli she is!”
They called over Fíli, who slowly approached the infant in his mother’s arms.
“Kíli,” Fíli repeated, and the faintest smile appeared on his face just as his shoulders relaxed for the first time in his entire life. He met his parents’ eyes. “It sounds like my name. I like it.”
Dís and Doli exchanged a grin.
“I feel good things are coming ahead, with a child who laughs with her first breath!” Dís said, giving her newborn a soft kiss on her brow.
no subject
Date: 2014-03-06 08:56 pm (UTC)