He rushed to Bofur, then reached for the crown, cradling it gingerly in both hands. His awestruck eyes turned down toward its angled contours.
“It is—— far more beautiful than I recall.”
If he had not been expecting exactly that, Bofur would have flinched, or jumped - any kind of reflex reaction. But he stands still, rooted to his spot even when the king gains hold of his crown. Naught but a sigh escapes him for several long moments.
❝aye. fine piece, it is.. now, what’s goin’ on with you ?❞