5. Not Enough Breakfast

The overcast morning's muted light shone through the high windows upon the remains of a sleepy breakfast gathering in the private dining hall. Glóin sat heavily in his chair, turning a last bit of bread on a toasting fork over the fire, which cheerily snapped and popped, giving the hall a resinous scent. Bifur and Nori sat side by side, having finished breaking their fast and pushed aside their plates. They peered at a set of worked gold and garnet jewelry, talking in low voices as they turned and poked at it.

Across the thick wooden table, Bombur sat glumly, flanked by Bofur and Dori while Bilbo looked on.

"Isn't there any more?" He ran a finger around his empty plate and examined it for crumbs, then stirred the pile of eggshells with it.

Unconcerned, Bofur finished his last bite of eggs and pushed his plate aside in favor of a mug of strong tea. "You had the same as us."

"I don't think I did. Only one fish…"

"Two poached fish."

"Well, they might as well have been one. Hardly big enough to call a proper fish…"

Dori raised his eyebrows. "You had your roll, and mine as well."

"You shouldn't have let him have it," Bofur muttered.

"I was hungry. Dori showed kindness, unlike some other people I shan't mention with reproach in spite of the fact that they are related to me," Bombur grumbled.

Bilbo wisely didn't mention there had also been a good, fat venison sausage, as he was finishing off his own third helping of the same. At least he wasn't a relative, he reflected.

Glóin pulled the browned slab of toast off of his toasting fork and began spreading it with dark apple butter from the crock on the table. "So," he began as if continuing a former conversation. "What exactly is this I hear of? Planning on finding your way back into your old travel-clothes, Bombur?"

Bombur pulled a woebegone face. "They want to starve me."

"You agreed to it," Bifur noted from across the table. "You said you wanted us to help."

"But these are such miserable, scrawny helpings! Surely I will perish, or faint!" he cried melodramatically.

"If you do, I'm not volunteering to carry you again," Glóin said with reasonably good humor.

"Nor I!" "Definitely not!" "Never again!" came the comments from around the room.

"Would you like a pickle?" Bofur offered.

"No, I would not." Bombur said firmly, though his stubbornness had been tempered by their joke. He sighed and cast a longing eye at Glóin's toast as the latter picked it up and took a large bite, carefully shielding his immaculate white beard with his other hand.

Dori offered him the teapot, then turned to Bombur thoughtfully. "The only time I ever knew you to truly shrink instead of grow was when you had to walk."

"That was quite a walk," commented Glóin.

"True, but we don't want to wear him all the way to a shadow. I'm not saying we need to walk him to the Blue Mountains and back," Dori continued.

"We only want to trim him down enough to fit his pants again." Bifur didn't look up from the delicate gold piece he was tweaking with a small tool.

"Stop talking about me as if I weren't here," Bombur complained.

Dori tried again. "I think we should take you out walking. Just along a path or two outside, don't you think so, Nori?"

Nori glanced up at the hint, but shook his head. "I'm busy."

Bifur set aside the other piece of jewelry in its box. "I'll come. Between us we can keep you moving."

Bilbo nodded. "I'll come along too. Nothing like a bit of a walk and fresh air to get your mind off your troubles. Keeps you healthy."

"You're joking, right?" Bombur asked. "Me? Walking? I haven't been out walking since….since…. I'm not sure since when. I'm perfectly healthy. I don't need to walk."

"Let's just fetch our boots," Dori said. "We'll be right back." He and Nori left the hall.

"Hoy, Bifur!" Nori called. "You didn't finish it! What, am I supposed to do this all by myself?" He gathered up the small tools and jewelry and scooped it all neatly into its box, then without further comment tucked it under his arm and stumped out of the room.

"Wait a minute!" Bombur said. "Isn't anyone listening to me? I don't want to go on a walk!"

"I heard you," Glóin said, unperturbedly finishing his toast. He stood up and brushed the crumbs from his hands. "I, however, don't give it much weight as I'm not a part of this project. My son and I have something to finish up at the Northern forge, I'll see you this evening, no matter what size you are. Good day." He went out.

"Oh, do just come along with us, Bombur," Bilbo wheedled. "It's a fine idea and a fine sunshiny spring morning."

The heavy Dwarf turned a jaundiced eye towards the window above. "I don't see any sunshine."

"Well, a fine cloudy one then. Look, I'm going to fetch my walking stick from Glóin's. Tell them not to leave without me." He slid down from his cushion and trotted out.

Bombur looked around and suddenly realized there was no one in the room with him except Bofur. They looked at one another.

Bombur reached out with great dignity and took up the small crock of apple butter. He then ate the entire remaining contents with a spoon, giving Bofur a look that dared him to say anything about it. Bofur just rolled his eyes with disgust and walked out.

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