Thank you all so much for your reviews, they really mean a lot to me! This chapter is about Bofur.

4: Decisions

The silence was unnerving. Bofur shifted where he was standing and watched his companions. They had all gathered in the great hall when the horn called for them, and now they were waiting for news from beyond the mountain walls. Some, like Dwalin or Dori, looked grim, Ori wore a frightened expression, and others seemed to try to not show how uneasy they actually felt.

Bofur was worried. When he'd set out for the quest to reclaim Erebor, it had been an adventure, a chance to see the world outside Ered Luin, an opportunity for the toymaker to help his friends and get some gold on top. Sure, there had been the tale of the dragon, but somehow even that had never dampened his spirits.

But now they were on the brink of war. Fighting a monstrous, evil dragon was one thing – fighting elves and men was a totally different matter, and Bofur didn't like the idea at all.

He thought of Bard and his children, of how they had helped them – Kíli, most of all – and of how Bard had killed Smaug and had been given the ruins of a house in return.

Somewhere in the back of his mind Bofur heard a voice that told him that Thorin was wrong. He had ignored it before, the call of the gold drowning out all other noises, but it had grown louder and louder throughout the days. He saw Bilbo's frightened eyes, he saw the hurt on Fíli's face, he saw it all before his inner eye and he realised that the treasure beneath the mountain would divide them. They might have won the gold, but the mountain would claim its price in return. Loyalty and honour and friendship and trust – was that the price they had paid for the jewels and gems and gold?

The huge door suddenly swung open, and Thorin entered the hall, followed closely by Balin. There was something about the way Thorin was moving that made Bofur hold his breath. His leader had always had this majestic aura around him, even after a long day out in the open, soaked through and tired. Seeing him in the halls of Erebor, wearing fine clothes and clean boots, made not only Bofur gasp in awe.

His king. Only now Bofur knew what this meant.

Thorin halted in the middle of the large room and let his gaze wander across the group. It seemed to the toymaker that he looked at his nephews a little longer, but if he did, then they clearly chose to ignore it.

"News have reached us from outside the wall," said Thorin loudly, and Bofur involuntarily shivered. The next words would decide their fate, he understood in that moment.

"Of the good kind, or the bad?" asked Glóin, and Bofur thought that he was probably not the only one holding his breath. He could see Balin sigh next to Thorin, and he felt a knot tying in his stomach.

"The good news is that Dáin has arrived," answered Thorin, yet his tone boded ill. "Bad news is that an army of orcs has approached as well. Dáin's army is fighting them as we speak, and apparently the elves and men have decided to fight on their side."

He let the words sink in, and Bofur took a deep breath. Orcs. Just the thought of these evil creatures sent shivers down his spine. Too clearly he remembered their numerous encounters with them, he had witnessed their cruelty, had felt the mixture of fear and hatred running through his veins when Azog had almost defeated Thorin.

Around him he could hear whispering voices, but eventually they died down. Dwalin stepped forward and looked intently at Thorin.

"And what will your decision be?"

The black-haired dwarf eyed him wearily. Bofur remembered that the two warriors had fought together at Azanulbizar, and he was sure that Dwalin would follow his leader into battle without a second thought should it come to war.

"I will not order you to fight," said Thorin rather quietly, and it was mainly Ori he looked sternly at. The young dwarf looked probably even more frightened than before, but on the other hand his jaw was set as if he wouldn't let that fear take hold of him.

"Óin, I ask you to stay and fulfil your duties as a healer. Roäc has informed me that there are two tents, one of which is run by Dáin's healers as well as a few men of Dale. Take as much as you can with you, and help out there, if you please."

The old healer had listened with his hand on his ear trumpet, and he nodded.

"Agreed."

"I will not order any of you to fight, for I know that I can't ask you to risk your lives yet again. I know that not all of you are warriors," and Bofur felt Thorin's eyes on himself, "and I will not demand anything you cannot give."

"I sense a 'but' coming," mumbled Dori loud enough for everyone to hear, and the ghost of a smile appeared on Thorin's face.

"But as for me, I will not abandon my cousin. I see it as my duty and an act of honour to come to his aid. And I ask you this: Will you follow me - one more time?"

"I'll gladly fight side by side with you once more," stated Dwalin solemnly, and he walked towards Thorin and put a huge hand onto his shoulder. "I'll follow you, my friend."

"Aye," added Balin, "to whatever end."

Bofur watched as Glóin and Dori stepped forward, he heard their voices as if through a mist. His mind was racing while around him his friends were offering their services to their king. He knew what his own decision would be, he had known it all the time. But saying it aloud would leave him no way back. It would be a final decision, and he'd stick to it and see it through.

I'm bloody scared, Mahal knows I'm just a toymaker, not a warrior.

But he was sure, deep inside, that he would not abandon his friends. They had been through so much, and now was the time to stay with them until the bitter end.

In that moment Fíli and Kíli left their places in the back of the hall. Something changed in Thorin's eyes as he perceived them. Bofur wondered when he had last spoken to his nephews, or whether he had talked to them at all after their dispute. The two young dwarves exchanged glances as they stood before their uncle, and the elder one remained silent.

"Uncle," began Fíli, but he seemed to be lost for words under Thorin's stern gaze. He was still hurt from his uncle's words, Bofur realised then. The king hadn't apologised yet.

"We will join you in battle," said Kíli, looking straight at Thorin. For a moment Bofur thought that he could see the expression in Thorin's eyes change when his youngest nephew spoke. His blue eyes became soft for a second, with a shadow of worry flickering in them.

He cares for them still. Otherwise he wouldn't be worried. Why can't he just tell Fíli that?

But Thorin didn't apologise. He merely nodded his head as if he hadn't expected anything else. His right hand flinched, and it seemed like he wanted to reach out to his nephew and put a hand onto his shoulder, but stalled. The brothers probably hadn't even noticed. They retreated simultaneously and stood beside Dwalin.

Bofur took a deep breath, then slowly walked towards Thorin.

"You can count on me," he said with a clear voice, and found his leader smiling at him.

"Thank you, Bofur."

There was no way back now. He would go into battle, and he'd make the best out of it. He closed his eyes for a moment, and the memory of a song came to his mind. He began to hum, more to himself at first, but he got louder and eventually started to sing along as he approached the other dwarves. If he could only focus on the melody he might be able to not think of what was about to come.

Fill up yer glass, be merry tonight

Don't think of tomorrow, forget 'bout the fight

Dance with a lass till yer feet are sore

Drink yer ale and maybe some more

Be merry tonight, don't worry me lad

There's a place and a time for being sad

But not today, be merry tonight

Don't think of tomorrow, forget 'bout the fight

He hushed as he felt Dwalin's eyes on him.

"Are you ever not cheerful?" asked the bald dwarf grumpily, as if he was personally offended by the fact that a dwarf could indeed not be grim and serious at times. Bofur shrugged. He could have told Dwalin that he needed to sing in order to keep his fear at bay. He could have said that the singing calmed him down. He could have replied with a witty remark and made everyone else laugh.

But just this time, Bofur remained silent.

I give it all, now there's a reason why I sing,
So give it all, 'cause it's these reasons that belong to me

(Rise Against, "Give it all")

A/N: What do you think of Bofur's song? ;)

Next one will have Dwalin and Ori :)