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The Missing Hat

Fandom: The Hobbit I Characters: Bilbo & Bofur I No warning apply

Summary: One shot regarding Bilbo & Bofur’s friendship years after the battle of the five armies. Bofur visits Bilbo and the two have time to reflect on both the past and the future, finding comfort in one another’s company.

Bilbo turned the cup in his hands, the silver was gleaming in a fashion that meant he could see his expression in it. How long had he been polishing it for? Too long he thought, it as a nice distraction from the thoughts that had been plaguing his mind. Having Bofur stay had been wonderful, he had become the most attentive host after the events in his earlier years. But with the company of his old friend had also come memories of days long since passed, it was both a blessing and a curse to see such dear friends.

Bilbo placed the cup back on the side and continued to potter round his home. It was only when he returned to the kitchen and saw the early signs of dusk in the form of a warm orange glow on the walls that he realised how much time had passed and Bofur still wasn’t back.

Bilbo poked at the fireplace, watching the coal burn bright. He shuddered, a sudden chill running up his spine. He was unsure whether the involuntary motion had been caused by a distant memory or because it was late Autumn and the early signs of Winter were settling in. He looked around his home, at all the things that made him who he was and those before.

Pulling his dressing gown tight round himself and wrapping a scarf round his neck he head out to find Bofur. The Bilbo of old never would have left home wearing his dressing gown but so much had changed since then and he’d learnt all the little things he used to worry about really were just that - little, inconsequential things.

When Bilbo found Bofur he was sat by the pond, his feet hanging off the pier staring out at the party tree. Next to him was a fishing rod, the worms in the small container he’d brought with him wriggled over one another. They must have been feeling grateful that he had decided not to participate in that particular hobby on that day.

Bofur watched the birds in the tree, crows, blackbirds, sparrows and more all living together in perfect harmony. He studied the patterns that formed in the bark, he thought of the simple life that he’d once dreamed he would have but knew after everything they had experienced that it was unlikely to ever come to pass.

“Hello Bilbo,” he said before Bilbo had opened his mouth. He didn’t look up when he spoke, he would have known the sound of Bilbo’s footsteps anywhere.

Bilbo heard Bofur sigh as he approached and sat down next to his old friend. Bilbo looked across the water at the party tree and thought of Thorin, he wondered too whether Bofur’s thoughts were in the same place as is own. Come to think of it Bilbo wasn’t sure he’d ever told the others the story of the party tree and where the acorn had come from.

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, they looked down at the water where fish swam happily unaware of any pain in the world. Beyond the hills the sun had just started to set, it reminded Bilbo of what happened by the stone-trolls campfire, but in reverse. The first and last light of the day were an equal blessing.

Something was bothering Bilbo and for a moment he couldn’t figure out what it was. He placed his hands behind him and lent on his palms while considering Bofur, it then occurred to him.

“Your hat!” He exclaimed.

Bofur turned to the side and gave a weary but not unkind smile, “Yes Bilbo my hat.”

“It’s gone…” Bilbo said feeling foolish immediately for stating the obvious.

Bofur’s smile widened as he patted his friend on the shoulder, “I placed it somewhere today and you know, I can’t quite remember where, perhaps you could help me look for it old friend?”

Bilbo nodded, “Of course, a little adventure like the old days.”

Bofur chuckled and helped Bilbo to his feet, he looked at the unused fishing rod on the pier, gleaming in the orange light of late afternoon. “I was going to do a spot of fishing you know, but time just seemed to slip away,” he said thoughtfully. “It always does, you think you have all the time in the world to explore and have fun, to spend time with the people you love and the poof, it’s gone.”

Bilbo didn’t know what to say to that, apart from that he agreed, he knew to what Bofur was referring to. The dwarf had become wise in his older age, something that Bilbo thought suited him tremendously.

“Where do you last remember seeing your hat?” Bilbo asked.

“Well if I could remember that I wouldn’t need your help finding it now would I?” He said and then gave a wink to ensure his friend wasn’t hurt by his words.

Bilbo wrung his hands, “Right…”

The two friends walked to the end of the pier, the sun finally disappearing behind the hills. The evening was cool, blackbirds sung heartily at the turn of day and Bofur and Bilbo walked side by side into the heart of the Shire in search of Bofur’s hat.

“Do you think about them?” Bofur asked, he didn’t need to inform Bilbo of whom he was speaking.

“Yes, all the time. Their ghosts don’t leave me, so in a way I’m never alone.”

Bofur nodded, “Aye, I know that too well.”

“But now, I mean…at the time their deaths seemed so pointless, I firmly believed they died in vein and now, now I’m not so sure. I see the peace of the world, Smaug long gone, the city of Dale thriving once again. And Mordor’s advances have stopped.”

Bofur smiled sadly, “Life goes on whether we’re ready for it to or not.”

Bilbo considered Bofur’s words for a moment before nodding, “Yes, their deaths were painful but they weren’t in vain. What they fought so hard to protect and what they died for is just,” Bilbo paused and turned back to face the pond, the reflection of the sky caused a beautiful misty pink, blue and purple, colours mixing with the ripples caused by teeming life. “It’s beautiful Bofur, this world really is rather beautiful and full of wonder and kindness.”

Bofur put his arm round Bilbo and the two walked together towards the party tree, “Perhaps I left my hat by this tree and even if I didn’t I think it would be a fine place for two friends to sit and watch the stars come out to play, don’t you?”

Bilbo nodded, “Yes old friend, and the fireplace is warm for when we get home.”

Bilbo felt a sudden surge of sadness as he said the word ‘home’ how nice it would be to have company more often. But then, maybe that’s what Bag End was, it was a home to all those who needed it and to all his old friends who were always welcome.

“Tell me Bofur, have I ever told you the story of how the party tree came to be?”

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