This is the first of three stories, of what Bombur might have dreamed after falling asleep in the Dark Forest.
Sentences in italics represend Bombur's thoughts.
I have to give a lot of thanks to They call me Mary, my Beta Reader, because she has helped a lot with the grammar, spelling and story.
Enjoy!
Bombur woke up. The first thing he saw was rays of light streaming through the trees. The trees were so green they looked like emeralds. He liked that color; it had nothing to do with the awful color of the leaves of the dark forest. Suddenly he remembered his companions; they weren't there and he could not hear them.
The fear that aroused within him for Bofur, Thorin, and the company, was chased away by the sight of a strange flying insect. It was so beautiful; it spread around sparkles of red and blue as it flew above him. Its colors were pink and green. When one casually landed on top of a nearby flower, he recognized them as butterflies.
Oh! He had never seen such excellently crafted butterflies! Crafted, thought the Dwarf. He turned on his side and picked up one in his hand. Indeed, it was not made by the Lady Yavanna; it was hand-made! It was decorated with precious gems. Its mechanisms were so perfectly tuned he felt a twinge of jealousy towards its creator. He would like so much to be a gifted toymaker himself…
His trail of thought was interrupted by laughter. What a melody! He was always of the opinion that the laughter of Dwarf-children was the best. He loved it almost as much as food. That's why he, and his brother, chose to become toymakers. They wanted to make the people around them happy and full of laughter. It was a pity his brother wasn't married yet. Although Bofur did really liked a young dwarf-woman back in the Blue Mountains, unfortunately she didn't return the interest. He would like to have nieces and nephews.
Just when he was on verge of melancholy, the source of laughter came into sight. It was in fact Dwarf-children; three of them, a boy and two girls. They were playing around when they saw him. Three huge identical smiles formed on their faces. They seemed so familiar…
"Uncle Bombur!" exclaimed all three in unison. They ran into his lap and the youngest one jumped onto his belly.
"Hey uncle, why are you here alone?"
"I do not know…" Bombur was so astounded to them calling him 'uncle', that he could not form a proper sentence. That didn't seem to bother the kids.
"Oh! You have found our toys! We thought we had lost them…You wouldn't get mad if we had lost them, would you?"
"Why would I be mad at you?" he asked, perplexed. He had a hundred questions on his mind but this was the only one he could ask right now.
"Because you made them for us! Uncle have you been smoking today? Momma always says that smoke clouds papa's head sometimes…"
"Who is your papa?" asked Bombur.
"Bofur! Your brother!" all three giggled merrily. "Uncle Bombur, surely momma is right; smoke has clouded your mind." They laughed more and Bombur joined them. Not because he shared their point of view, but because he was happy. He had a nephew and two nieces and moreover he was the skilled craftsman of these fine butterflies. Life was so good…
"Let's play a bit with these toys, shall we?" he asked finally.
"Yes!" all three shouted merrily, and Bombur was so happy…
I will update, soon. Review Please!