Not Supposed to End Like This
AU story with a tiny hint of Dwalin/Nori, but mostly about the Ur family.
I still own nothing.
That still stinks!
Prologue
Wars are things of horror. They come quickly or creep up on you silently until there is no escape. Wars destroyed. Wars stole. War was like a thief that took your happiness, your loved ones, your possessions, and any sense of safety that you ever felt. War was not noble. War was not valiant. Even if you were fighting on the side of justice the other side felt they were fighting on the side of justice too. Where does War end? When will the world see that fighting only leads to more fighting. Why couldn't Thorin see that? War was not the solution, but the poor dwarf was not seeing with clear eyes at the time. However, because of him, look where we are at now. Look at what war has reaped.
Chapter One
The Battle of Five Armies had been brutal and dead littered the ground for miles to see. Those injured were taken to the healing tents and the uninjured picked through the dead to find loved ones and those that still lived. The search left many reeling at the enormity of the losses. Bit by bit the company began to find one another or at least heard the news of who was injured or unharmed. Bifur and Bombur began to panic when no news of their kin surfaced. Where was Bofur?
The dwarven cousins began to search frantically among the dead then. They looked to see a glimpse of a familiar hat or moustache. Bofur was found hours later by Bifur and the still dwarf was bloodied and battered. Most frightful of all was that Bofur wasn't breathing. Bombur raced over as Bifur's cries of despair could be heard from miles around.
"Mahal! He's not breathing! No! You promised, Bofur! You promised we would be together after the quest!" Bombur yelled shaking his limp brother, "Breathe, damn you! Come on, Bofur! Breathe!"
"Stop shaking him, Idiot!" Bifur barked in their native tongue as his cousin stilled, "His skin is still warm so he just recently stopped breathing. Give him to me."
Bifur pulled Bofur away to lay him down and began breathing into his mouth and pulled back for Bombur to compress his brother's chest. All miners or family of miners knew this breathing technique to help out when there were cave-ins. The two worked together for several moments with no success. Bofur remained still and limp.
"You promised!" Bombur bellowed hitting Bofur's chest as hard as he could as he slumped over his lifeless brother, "You swore you'd never leave me after our parents died, Bo. Don't leave me. Don't leave. I need you, Brother. No."
Bombur laid his head on Bofur's chest as he began to sob. Bifur hung his head as despair threatened to choke him while tears pooled in his eyes. The loss was beginning to well up within him, but Bifur knew he still needed to tend to Bombur. The older dwarf reached to soothe his cousin when Bombur's head shot up with hopeful eyes gazing frantically at Bifur.
"He's breathing!" Bombur gasped as Bifur gaped at him, "Bofur's heart is beating! He's alive! Brother's alive!"
Bifur pushed Bombur away and leaned to listen at Bofur's chest. There it was! Bofur's chest rose slightly as a light heartbeat pulsed. Together the two rushed Bofur to a healing tent and then had to wait to hear from the healers on how the downed dwarf was doing. Bifur paced as Bombur grew silent and stiff with anxiety. The elder realized that his younger cousin was softly praying as he sat staring at the screen that blocked their view from seeing Bofur.
"Please, Mahal, do not take my brother. Let him stay with us. We need him here on Middle-Earth. Help him live and stay with his family. I beg of you, Mahal. I beg you. I can't live the rest of my life without the little family I still have. Please don't take our Bofur. Please."
Bifur kneeled to place his hand on Bombur's shoulder. The younger looked at his cousin with a sigh. What would be, would be. The two stood quickly when the elven healer walked over to them. The elf looked grim as the two dwarves listened to his words.
"It's up to him now," the elf finished, "Only time will tell if he will survive, but most would already be dead from a wound like this. He is stubborn and strong. Do not lose hope just yet. He is fighting still."
Their kin had lost a lot of blood from various wounds, but it had been a near lethal hit to the head that had finally downed Bofur. Bifur and Bombur remained at Bofur's side as he slept deeply wrapped in heavy bandages. It was the bandage around his forehead and his deathly pallor that had the two the most worried.
"What are we going to do?" Bombur whispered holding his brother's hand in his.
"We will care for Bofur," Bifur signed, "We will help him get well again. We will not give up on him. We…we won't lose him. I will not allow it."
Bombur sighed looking back down at his brother. Not even Bifur, who defied all odds, could force someone to live if their bodies were too far gone to continue to live. He prayed that Bofur was strong enough to survive these wounds. He prayed with all his might.
"I've been looking…Mahal, no," Balin bit out as he came upon the small family and saw Bofur lying with his dark hair spread loose upon the pillow, "I had no idea that Bofur was wounded. How is he?"
"Weakened from blood loss," Bombur whispered stroking his brother's hand, "Bofur has a head wound that the healers believe knocked him out and caused the most damage. I thought we had lost him, Balin. I thought Bofur had already left me alone. I was so scared and I am still. I am not ashamed to admit it. Bofur wasn't breathing when found."
Balin blinked as he gazed at Bofur's still form before looking to Bifur in question.
"He breathes now," Balin began, "What happened to allow him to breathe again? How is Bofur still with us?"
"His brother knocked life back into him when he demanded that Bofur keep his promise and not leave us alone," Bifur gestured as his cousin choked, "His injuries are pretty serious. The healers don't know if he will wake, but report that he is still fighting. We can only believe in Bofur's strength and determination to stay with us now. There is not much more we can do except be close and care for him. How are the others?"
"We all survived, but there is more than just Bofur's injuries that are serious among us. Our king is gravely wounded and his nephews are not doing too much better," Balin advised as the war-stunned dwarves looked up at him sadly, "He wishes to see his company. Come. I will have Bofur's cot moved into the royal tent."
Bombur and Bifur refused for anyone else to touch their kin. Together the two walked Bofur on his cot towards where the king and his nephews rested.
"Careful. There are loose pebbles here," Balin urged as he led the way, "You four move. Dwalin, hold the tent flap back and give Bifur and Bombur enough room to get through. Bilbo, Lad, wake up and move it. Bofur needs to be out of this cold weather. Move."
Dwalin, Dori, Gloin, and Bilbo were completely silent as Bifur and Bomfur walked up bearing their burden. Dwalin held the flap from the door of the tent to allow the dwarves through. No one said a word as they followed the two cousins inside.
"Place him here," Balin instructed as he pointed to a place near Kili, "Let me get Oin and the healers that have looked after our king and his nephews. They are the best there are here and possibly they can assist in Bofur's recovery."
"Thank you," Bifur called after the advisor in their native tongue.
Bombur sighed once again and sat on a stool he found to hold his brother's hand again as Bifur watched anxiously. Bofur's face was pale and his brown hair looked almost black in the interior lighting of the tent.
"What happened?" Bilbo squeaked as he hurried over with Dwalin, Gloin, and Dori following close on his heels.
Bifur grunted as he shook. War always war. War gave him axe. War took his cousins' parents. War was trying to take his Bofur. He hated war.
"Bifur, come hold his hand so Bofur knows we're close," Bombur ordered as his cousin hurried over and took his place so that the rotund dwarf could stand up, "I'm only saying this once because…because it hurts to say it. Please remember what I say because the story is hard to repeat and I leave it to you to tell the others. My brother…he fought hard and got separated from my cousin and me towards the end of the battle. Elves and men said that Brother fought valiantly, but something…some vile thing struck Bofur hard enough to down him. He's hurt bad. Bofur has nearly bled out and has a very serious head wound. He wasn't breathing when Bifur found him, but I…I hit him in my grief and the healers think I restarted his heart. We don't…the healers don't know if he will wake."
"Oh no," Bilbo breathed as the other dwarves looked pained, "Not Bofur too. Not your brother."
Bombur numbly heard Dwalin's report. Dori was relatively unharmed. Ori broke an arm and was staying with Nori who had suffered a deep cut on his leg and severe bruising to his torso which was making it difficult for the dwarf to breathe properly. Nori was drugged into sleep at the moment so he wouldn't struggle to pull in air too badly. Oin and Gloin were unharmed as well as Balin. Dwalin himself had cuts and dark bruises so the worst of the company's injured were Bofur, Thorin, Fili, and Kili.
"Brother wouldn't be happy to hear that anyone, but especially Nori was injured," Bombur offered to Dori as the silver-haired, worried dwarf grimaced, "Those two are quite close."
"I know," Dori agreed looking sad, "Nori will heal and I hope the same for the Durins and your brother. I feel like such a fool. Gold and mountains were not worth this. I thought I'd lose Nori when he was brought into the healing tent gasping so hard to breathe. I hope to never have to fight a war again. I hope for some peace finally and some time to get to know both of my brothers better. I…I want the same for you and your brother."
"As do I," Bombur agreed as Bifur nodded emphatically, "May your words reach Mahal's ears. Let's hope that none of our company meet our Father any time soon."
Thorin asked to see everyone a couple of hours later. He made his peace with Bilbo and cried tears of anger for the three who couldn't speak with him. Nori had even woken by then and was able to hobble to the tent with some crutches as Dori fussed that he was up.
"You should be in bed," Dori huffed, "Nori, you are not well and I can hear your wheezing from here."
"I will see my king," Nori hissed pushing forward stubbornly, "I will not miss out on Thorin's last words if Mahal decides to take him from us. I won't."
Dori groaned, but offered his own strength to assist his brother to Thorin's bedside. The older brother tried to get Nori back in bed after, but the copper-haired dwarf wasn't cooperating with Dori as par usual.
"Stuff it, Dori," Nori spat after speaking with the King before laying eyes on Bofur and growing pale, "No."
Nori limped over and gratefully sat in a chair that Dwalin brought him to sit next to his friend. Nori and Bofur had grown up together.
"What happened? Tell me everything," Nori growled looking upset as he gazed first at Bombur and then Bifur, "Is he…is he going to live?"
"Nori, maybe this should wait," Dori offered as Nori turned livid eyes on him, "Brother, Bifur and Bombur has been through a lot."
"Please. Someone tell me that he's going to be okay," Nori begged, "What happened to Bofur? What happened to my friend?"
The telling of Bofur's injuries was told to the final member of the original company by Bilbo. The former thief bit his lip as he held Bofur's limp hand and ignored the fact that Dwalin was urging Dori to get his brother back into bed. He wasn't going anywhere. Not when Bofur was like this. He dared anyone to try and move him.
"Now this isn't like you at all," Nori stated to his still friend, "Bofur, you need to wake up now. We need some of your optimism. Things are too dreary not to have you about. You rest a little and then get up and spread your sunshine. We need you, Friend. Don't you dare leave us. Don't you dare, Bofur."
Bombur sighed for what felt like the millionth time as his brother remained still and unresponsive.
"What did Oin and the elven healers say?" Nori asked fingering Bofur's hat that lay next to its owner.
"Same as others," Bifur signed in Igleshmek, "Lost lots of blood and bad head wound. Gave medicine to speed up healing, but not know if Bofur wake again. Time only tell."
"Bofur is as stubborn as you, Bifur," Nori snorted looking directly at the toymaker before huffing slightly as he struggled to draw in some air, "He won't leave his family. Bofur's not like that. He'll survive just fine."
"Enough," Dwalin decided as he scooped up a protesting Nori, "Back in bed. You won't be able to assist Bofur when you are trembling in exhaustion and can hardly breathe. Let's go. You need to rest, Nori."
"Be careful," Dori ordered snatching up his brother's crutches, "Gentler, Dwalin. Nori stop struggling before you rip your stitches. You are so stubborn, Brother!"
Bifur and Bombur might have found this funny on another day. Not today. Not when Bofur couldn't share in the joke. The dwarves returned to Erebor and once again Bifur and Bombur carried their kin between them on his cot. Bofur remained still and silent. The unconscious dwarf was settled in a warm room on a soft bed. He didn't wake. Bifur and Bombur did not leave Bofur's side and aided in changing bandages, getting food and medicines into his system, and keeping him cleaned in hopes that he would wake. Time passed. Thorin recovered with his nephews enough to move about much to a lot of healers' surprise. Dwarves began restoring Erebor, but still Bofur did not wake.
"I'm so sorry," Thorin sighed on one of his visits as he sat on the edge of Bofur's bed, "I was a fool. We've all suffered because of my foolishness. Bofur and my nephews most of all."
"You are not to blame," Bombur soothed even as Bifur narrowed his eyes and huffed, "Stop it, Cousin."
"King to blame," Bifur signed angrily, "Hopped up on gold sickness. Pulled us into war. Not fault orcs and goblins attack, but should have thought better. Fili deal with bad shoulder forever. Kili take long to walk properly again. Nori still weak from his injuries. Our Bofur sleep, not wake. I very mad. Not sugarcoat because is king."
"I thank you for that," Thorin agreed, "You two have every right to be angry at me. I shouldn't have allowed myself to weaken like that, but I did and the things you say, Bifur, are correct. Bofur tried to point that out to me. He defended Bilbo with everything he had. I owe him and the rest of the company a lot of apologies. I refuse to go through the coronation ceremony until my nephew can walk at my side, Fili can lift his arm again, Nori is back to his usual self, and Bofur wakes. My whole company will be at my side for the coronation or I rule without a crown."
Bifur and Bombur blinked at one another in astonishment before bowing as Thorin took his leave.
"You've got to get better now, Brother," Bombur instructed as he smoothed Bofur's nightshirt and pulled the covers higher over his chest, "We can't have a king under the mountain without a crown. Thorin and the rest of us are waiting on you to return to us."
To be continued…