I is for Iglishmêk

ahiddenkitty:

Bagginshield Alphabet: I is for Iglishmêk

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“What are they talking about?” asks Bifur, when his cousin Bofur sits down beside him that night.  He points over to where Mister Baggins and the King are in deep conversation by the fire.

“Ah, nothing much,” replies Bofur in speech.  “You know what they’re like.”

“Does the hobbit know?”

This time Bofur answers with his hands.  “Know what?”

“That the King is in love with him,” says Bifur.  It’s been clear to all of them for weeks now, and yet nothing seems to have happened yet.

“He must do!  Sure he’s as bad,” signs Bofur, laughing.  “You see him listening to Thorin sometimes and his eyes glaze over, like all he can think about is getting his ankles pinned by his ears and buggered ‘till he sings.”

The hobbit has noticed their conversation and, as usual, is watching the Iglishmêk signs with fascination.  Suddenly his face turns bright scarlet, and it occurs to Bifur that the signs, though secret, are not always terribly subtle.

“What on earth are you two saying about me?” he splutters, and Thorin twists around to glare at them.

“Oh, nothing about you at all!” says Bofur cheerily, in speech, repeating the gesture.  “Just a wee discussion about mining.  Getting deep into a seam, you know.”

Mister Baggins looks mollified, but Thorin’s face is like thunder.  Bifur sighs.  His cousin is a reprobate who will get himself banished one day.