A/N: So, here's Bifur and his soulmate.

I would say enjoy, but this is a kind of depressing chapter...

Shattered

Anwyn was a beautiful young lass, and despite not expecting his soulmate to be found amongst the race of men, Bifur did not even attempt to find fault in his perfect match. She was of average height for one of her race, and Bifur thought her so slender as to be fragile – dwarves tended to be much more broad and solid than any other race. He treated her as if she were made of the most delicate crystal or glass, and while some would grow weary of such behaviour, Anwyn just smiled at the burly dwarf she was bonded to and brushed a hand over his cheek affectionately.

The villagers grew used to Bifur quickly, finding nothing to complain about in the dwarf's behaviour towards them or Anwyn, and soon Bifur had much business coming to his forge and workshop. The village men had him mend or make tools and weapons for their homes and farms, whilst the women came to him for carved wooden toys for their little ones. Bifur treated them all the same, with a gruff but sincere greeting and (on occasion) a smile for the more regular customers.

Bifur spent his evenings seated at his soulmate's feet, idly whittling away at another block of wood while his beautiful Anwyn worked on her sewing, her auburn hair shining copper in the firelight and her hazel eyes fond when she lifted her eyes from her work to regard her strong dwarf soulmate.

-0-

They were happy. Even more so when Anwyn realised she was with child. Bifur worried and fretted over his soulmate, glaring protectively at any strangers who came too close to his beloved, but Anwyn very nearly glowed with health and happiness.

Giving birth had been difficult for the young woman, but she had pulled through and Bifur had a healthy son to show off when his cousin Bofur dropped in to see how he was faring as the only dwarf in a village of men.

Bofur, after very nearly cooing over his cousin's son, informed Bifur that Dwina was yet again with child – this one, if it was only one – would bring Bombur and Dwina's total up to thirteen.

Bifur privately thought his cheerful, rotund cousin and his kindly soulmate completely insane for having more offspring than their first four, especially considering the absolute little menaces they were.

Bofur left after a few days with a hoard of new toys for his nephews and nieces, and Anwyn – after thoughtfully watching Bofur walking out of the village – turned to Bifur with one of her mischievous smiles.

"I like him," she informed Bifur. "Invite him back sometime. And your other cousin and his brood." Bifur just laughed and kissed her temple lightly.

"Aye, lass, if ye wish it."

-0-

Bombur and Dwina loved Anwyn as soon as they met her. Their fourteen children adored their 'Aunt Anwyn' and their new cousin Biryn, although some of the younger ones did ask why their aunty didn't have a beard like their mother. Anwyn had laughed and waved off the question when Dwina started scolding her brood for their rudeness, stating that she was not a dwarf, and dwarf women were the only females able to grow such fine beards.

Bifur was extremely pleased his soulmate was so accepted by his family.

-0-

Then, the village was attacked.

Orcs came in the dead of night, setting fire to stables and the inn, smashing open cottage doors and dragging their occupants screaming out into the street. Bifur stood with his poleaxe in his hands, snarling wordlessly as he fended off the foul creatures trying to get inside his home and to his family.

Anwyn was inside their house, most likely with the sword he had forged and taught her to use in her hands. She was a fierce little thing when she wanted to be, and to protect their son Bifur knew she would be like a mother bear protecting its cub.

Bifur swung his poleaxe hard, cleaving an orc's head clean off. He didn't get time to bring it back around, though, before he was tackled by two of the beastly creatures. He struggled and fought and eventually broke one's neck, the other getting a heavy boot to the skull which caused it to cave in.

But then came the scream, abruptly cut off and accompanied by a sharp pain in the centre of Bifur's left hand.

"Anwyn!" he roared, charging into the house after the orcs that had slipped past him while the others were keeping him busy. He drew his sword as he moved, slicing and stabbing and fighting his way towards his fallen soulmate. Tears blurred his vision, but he could see the awful gap between her head and shoulders and knew – as he had tried so hard to deny – that she was dead.

A wail from his son was just as abruptly cut off as Anwyn's scream had been, and Bifur roared out his rage and pain as he fought to get to his son's cradle. Two orcs stood over it, one withdrawing its rusty blood-covered knife from the cradle as the other one turned towards the enraged dwarf bearing down on them.

Bifur registered the orc's arm lifting, axe glinting in hand, and then there was nothing but pain and darkness and a sense of terrible, terrible loss.

-0-

Bifur woke to the sight of his cousin Bombur's face, the normally cheerful dwarf frowning worriedly.

"You're awake!" he cried, and then frowned again in confusion when Bifur mumbled to him. "What was that, cousin?" Bifur licked cracked lips and repeated himself.

"Where is my family?"

"What did he say, papa?" Bombur's youngest daughter asked, tugging at her father's hem. Bombur's face crumpled a little before he forced a little smile for his eleventh-born.

"He just asked for some water, sweetling," the cook lied. "Could you go fetch your mother for me?"

"Yes, papa!" the little girl raced off, and Bombur turned back to Bifur.

"You were delirious when the men brought you here," he informed the black-and-white bearded dwarf. "What do you remember?"

"Anwyn and Biryn… the orcs…" Bifur frowned, and flinched at the sharp pain in his head and hand.

"Bofur went to find them," Bombur sighed, reaching out and grabbing Bifur's left hand to hold it up for his inspection.

The soul light was dull black, ringed with white.

Bifur lost consciousness again as memories overwhelmed him.

-0-

After the attack, Bifur changed. He could no longer speak anything but Khuzdul or Iglishmêk, something which very few dwarves understood anymore. Bifur was grateful his cousins knew the language, and taught Bombur's brood how to communicate with him.

He also had extremely bad mood swings. They were controllable, to an extent, in that only a few sounds, scents and sights would set him off into one of his bad spells. Still, he was beyond glad his cousin's children had not been around when his first one happened. Bofur may wave it off, but the scar on his right shoulder reminded Bifur of what he had done every time he saw it.

Then came the opportunity to find the orc that left its axe in his head and killed his family. Bifur went immediately, his cousins following to translate and make sure he came back safely. Bifur didn't mind their presence, and in fact welcomed it on the journey they were to face. He may need them.

-0-

"Mister Bifur, would you help convince Laddyn to stop rejecting Kíli?" young Ori asked, looked up at Bifur with nervous but determined golden-hazel eyes. Bifur examined him for a moment, glanced across the clearing at the slouched figure of Thorin's younger nephew, and then looked back to Ori to nod firmly. The little dwarf's face lit up, and he beamed up at Bifur.

"What have ye in mind, lad?"

He would not let another waste valuable time with their soulmate. Life was too easily taken to leave their bond unfulfilled. He would not allow another life to be shattered as his had been.

End A/N:

So, Bifur. I almost cried writing this, I really did.

Please review.

Next is Ori