A/N: Hello.. I'm really sorry about this. I don't know what happened. I seriously love Bofur. Don't get me wrong. Don't think I don't like him and that's why I'm writing this... That's not the case. It's probably because I thought that there wasn't enough of him in Battle of the Five Armies. I'm so happy that he didn't die in the movie. But for some reason I wrote this.. I deleted it at first.. But Mouse convinced me somehow that this wasn't that bad of an idea.
Hope you don't hate me for this!..
No one saw him. No one heard him yell. How long had it even been sense he had been wounded? He had no idea. All that he could think about was how much pain he was in. How ever breath came in hiccups and small gasps. The Orc that had stabbed him took him by surprise. He never saw it. Never even knew the thing had held up a knife, but he had definitely felt the sharp tip of it stab into his stomach. Ripping the fabric of his shirt, tearing into his flesh.
Now the battle had begun to die down, now Bofur lay with his back propped up against a pillar of rocks. The snow had already begun to fall from the sky, resting on his clothes and the wings of his hat. His hat. He smirked vaguely at the remembrance that he still possessed his favorite hat. Even after everything he and the company had been through and dealt with. Against bickering Trolls, Rock Giants, Goblins, Elves.. None of it had seem to mattered now.
The stone dug into Bofur's back. He tried to shift himself in a more comfortable position, and every movement caused an immense amount of pain. Still, he fought through it, wheezing and crying out from the pain. Although he felt more comfortable than the previous position, it had made things worse in the case of his wound. The motions caused him to lose more blood, and his vision became blurry. He knew his time was coming. It was inevitable, of course. There was no coming back from this injury. He racked his brain to think happy thoughts before he took his last breath.
Bombur. Tears smeared the dirt on his face as he remembered his fat, chubby brother whom he loved with all his heart. He silently prayed that he was alive. He missed his little brother dearly. He wished he was with him, or anyone was with him for that matter, before he passed. This is never how he thought he would go.
Bifur. The dwarf was crazy, but he was family, and he was loved. His old cousin. Bofur always did his best to help him when he was confused. Which was quite often. He distinctly remembered the many hours spent with Bifur in his toy shop, making toys with him.
Bilbo. Bofur remembered the many nights spent with Bilbo by the fire. Chatting with him about anything and everything, though sometimes words weren't even needed. He let out a shaky breath as he thought about how many times the Hobbit had saved the companies life. Too many to count as far as Bofur was concerned.
"Bofur?!" A voice called from far out.
Even in the hazy state he was in, Bofur recognized the small voice as Bilbo's.
His dry mouth eased open slowly, "Bil-… Bilbo.." He barely choked out.
The Hobbit turned his head in the dwarf's direction. Bilbo ran towards, him, inhaling sharply and bending to his knees upon seeing his wounds.
"Oh.. Oh.. Bofur.." Bilbo gulped.
He laid a hand on Bofur's shoulder. "What happened?" He asked, placing his other hand over his mouth.
"Orc.. Didn't see it.. Coming.." Bofur coughed.
Bilbo blinked back tears as he checked the wounds closer. Just looking at it made him queasy, as the blood trickled down the side of his friend's stomach. He didn't say it out loud, but the stab wound looked beyond repair to him, even though he had never seen an injury like it before in his life. Still, he would never give up that easily on his friend. He had to do something, and something quick.
"I'm going to get help." Bilbo said, patting Bofur's sagging shoulders and standing up.
"No!" Bofur yelled in a hoarse voice, grabbing Bilbo's arm and pulling him back down. "Please.. Do-.." He coughed, bringing up blood from his throat.
"Don't.. Leave.."
Bilbo knelt before him in the snow. "If I don't get help.. You'll.. You're gonna.." His voice trailed off into a whisper.
"I'm.. Already gone, Bilbo.." Bofur said, giving him a sad and weary grin.
Bilbo shook his head rapidly. "No. No don't you say that. You'll be fine."
"Bilbo.."
"I can't just sit here and watch you die, Bofur."
"There's nothing.. Else to do."
Bilbo let out a shaky sigh. "I need to do something. I'm not giving up."
Ignoring Bofur's argument against it, Bilbo tried hard to think of ways to help. The blade seemed to be short, it hadn't gone all the way through his body.
"I think I should take the.. Take it out.." Bilbo stuttered, unsure of himself.
Bofur winced, too tired to speak against it.
Bilbo placed a hand on his friend's chest, and another on the handle of the blade.
"I'm gonna pull it out.. Okay?"
Bofur lifted his eyes to meet Bilbo's, and nodded.
Without another word, Bilbo pulled as hard as he could on the handle. It slowly crept further our of his body as Bilbo tried to ignore his friend's deafening screams that burrowed into his heart. Tears poured down Bofur's face as he struggled to reach out and grab Bilbo's arm.
"Stop! Stop.. I can't.. Stop.. Please.." He gasped loudly as Bilbo let go of the handle.
"It's no use.. Bilbo. No use.." Bofur said.
"I want you to tell Bombur that I love.. Him. And Bifur too."
Bilbo shook his head, "No.. You can tell them yourself."
"Please. Promise me you will." He pleaded as the corners of his eyes went dark and foggy.
Finally realizing Bofur was beyond help, Bilbo slowly nodded. "I promise." He said, his voice cracking as tears streamed down from his eyes.
A small smile crept on Bofur's lips as he held onto his friend's hand.
"Thank you for everything, Bilbo."
And he closed his eyes.
A/N: Sorry if I made you cry. If I did.. Does that make me a good or bad writer? Sorry about this again. Really am. Sorry it was kind of quick, too. Hope you liked it anyways. Thank you for taking the time to read this!
-Moose.
