Bofur had known pain, and fear, many fears indeed - or at least he thought he had - until he met her. The girl he somehow fell in love with. The girl who, through no conscious effort on her part, began to introduce him to true fear.
He almost lost her when he fell prey to the lusty draw of the gold. He remembered both the clarity and the fear hitting him at once, and prayed he could make amends for his mistakes.
When Thorin had pressed a blade against her neck, he had gone cold. It was only Bifur's grip on his arm that held him back from doing something rash. That coldness multiplied tenfold when he himself had sent her away, to safety, only to have hell break loose below. What a fool he was.
He had never hated someone as much as he hated Thorin then; for threatening her, but worse, for holding them back, sitting useless in the mountain as war raged beyond the gates. Truly he shook with a new fear as he waited, not knowing the fate of the one he loved, assuming the worst.
He had not known such a pain in many, many years, and it tore him apart.
How could it have come to this? He had already gone through heartbreak and loss once. It was not supposed to happen again.
The fear that raked his body when he saw her on the battlefield, helpless, and a moment away from being struck down, was nearly overwhelming - and the relief that came when he had gotten to her just in time nearly as so.
He felt physically ill to see her there, covered in the black blood of the enemy and that of her own, trembling with exhaustion. Everything was all wrong. He was supposed to go and find her, keep her safe... but there was nowhere to go, and the battle was far from over.
Even still, there was never a more pungent fear than that of when the bats arrived: when the chaos they created broke the defensive shield wall of the dwarves, when the last resistance was scattered and when one of the foul creatures swooped down and separated them despite their locked hands. He was dragged and thrown amidst a thick group of orc mercenaries, and in the time it took to gain his feet and fight them down, he had no bearings and no idea where she was.
Fear.
Fear beyond measure...
I painstakingly pushed myself to my knees, shaking stars and darkness from my field of vision. No - just stars after all - the darkness was the onslaught of orcs, the swarming bats, and the desperate plight of our now decimated front line. Not in any immediate danger, I squeezed my eyes shut and caught back the breath that had been forced from my lungs when the terrible winged creature violently wrenched Bofur from my side and into the oblivion that was my new surroundings.
The field of battle had changed immensely in such a short time, since I stood hand in hand with the dwarf I loved, relying on his support to even keep myself afoot after such an extended fight. We had nearly reached the mountain, I remembered, and rose, turning around to face Erebor.
A sardonic smirk twisted the corner of my mouth. Had I stayed, I would have been safe, and Bofur might never have left the mountain to find me.
Bofur.
I whirled about, eyes dancing in and out of focus trying to find him. The enemy had charged after the bats had swarmed our ranks, and now I couldn't even see a single familiar dwarf nearby. I realized I was all but utterly defenceless and hurriedly cast my gaze to the ground, stooping down to pick up a shield then skittering a few paces to grab a new axe, but they were heavy. I knew I would not be able to support them for long, I barely felt capable of supporting my own weight.
I stumbled away from an orc fresh out of combat with a fallen dwarf and looked around wildly for Bofur, ducking away from another bat that veered down amidst the bodies dangerously close by. The noise was growing overwhelming and I shouted Bofur's name in vain.
I hardly had time to heft my defence aloft before an impact jarred my whole frame. Peeking over the rim of the massive shield, I was up against the largest, heftiest, most heavily armoured orc I had yet seen, wielding a lethal serrated metal club. The orc held none of the joy of its smaller counterparts in tormenting me, nor their willingness to draw the encounter out, and so with a savage roar it swung a massive overhead blow towards my general, overall location. I dropped my axe and braced desperately with both arms.
The blow forced me to my down to knees once more, sending pain ricocheting through my entire body.
The power of the next impact caused immense pain in my shoulders; my old injury burning anew and my other shoulder searing with a different sensation that left me screaming.
The final strike tore the shield from my hands and spun me round face first onto the ground once more. I shouted out in pain, my vision blurring over, but still I quickly scrabbled to my knees. Clutching my one arm close to my chest, I crawled forward as fast as I could, knowing the next blow would crush my body irreparably if I wasn't able to avoid it.
It was then I finally noticed a new sound above the death cries and bat shrieks and the clash of metal on metal. It was familiar, but in my rather distracted state it took me longer to recognize it. I spared a quick glance upwards, squinting and forcing the world back into focus, and then I saw them.
The Eagles.
I grinned despite myself, but the hope was swiftly torn from me when I felt myself being agonizingly pulled back by my hair. I screamed in anguish and reached around to grip the large hand that had grabbed my ponytail, but I was helpless as I was dragged across the ground, feeling my hair being ripped from my scalp in the process.
I heard a large snort behind me; the large orc, no doubt frustrated with my petty attempts to escape him. He pulled me to my feet then roughly untangled his hand from my locks and spun me around, his grip quickly moving to my throat. I tried to pull away, but he began to lift me, his grasp on my neck barely needing to tighten as my own weight began to strangle me as soon as my feet left the ground.
I stared at the creature with hate as I raked my nails as hard as possible into his arm, but he did not flinch, not even when rivulets of dark blood trailed down his grey skin. I thrashed and tried to kick him, but my actions did little to harm him. In fact, a sneer twisted across his features as he realized a simple fact: he did, in fact, enjoy watching his prey suffer and die slowly.
Being unable to breath, my final struggle did not last long and I soon fell still, struggling to intake air, feeling the tightness grow painful in my chest. I cast my eyes beyond the evil face of the orc as sheer panic set in, and it was at that moment I finally saw him again.
Bofur turned with a swing and then stopped abruptly when he saw me, his face draining of colour. I knew he would not get to me this time; he was too far away from me. I forced myself to keep my eyes open, fixed on him, on the one good thing I had known since childhood, as I waited for the death of me. I felt my heartbeat in my ears, and time slowed down. I watched with interest as Bofur began to move, knocking down anything in his path. He would be too late, but I forgave him for that. I owed him so much. I just wish I could tell him...
I was suddenly jarred by an earth-shattering roar of a different nature. I was thrown aside once more, landing roughly as the orc charged to meet a new quarry. I heard the sounds of savagery from where I came to rest, and in fearful confusion I flipped over to look back at whatever new threat I now faced.
A hulking leviathan of a bear stood before me, its snout dripping with dark blood. The orc under its massive clawed paw was now in a very sorry, and very dead state. I gasped and tried to move to get up, but my body was now so very battered and my shoulder collapsed under the effort, causing me to hiss in pain and hurt myself further in my jumble to regain my footing.
The bear lumbered slowly forward; its head dipped slightly, soft brown eyes looking out at me intently, and I suddenly knew who it was.
"Beorn?" I uttered in a croaky voice. I finally was able to push myself up and I stepped towards the great beast. I met the bear's gaze, and I saw the man's. I smiled tiredly as my world began to darken. I took another step. Then I collapsed against the bear's thick coat.
I regained consciousness not long after, awakening with my head in Bofur's lap. He stared down at me with worried, tired eyes as he gently stroked my filthy hair away from my face.
I drew in a sharp breath at the onslaught of pain my body began to feel as I tried to reach my poor, aggrieved arms up to his neck. The concentrated pain, likely akin to hot daggers being thrust into my shoulder, caused me to cradle my arm back against my body with a cry.
"Bofur, my arm." I hissed, almost dazed from the sensation of it.
Bofur frowned and helped me sit up, then gently took hold of my hand, watching my expression as he moved it tentatively. I blanched, the smallest of motions causing spikes of throbbing pain shooting through my whole body.
"It's dislocated." he said softly, biting his lip with worry.
"Can you set it?" I asked breathlessly.
"A healer could do better." he replied, looking around anxiously.
I grabbed his leg with my good hand and squeezed, regaining his attention.
"Bofur, please." I begged, trying to control my breathing as I felt my skin flush with sweat. "Just do it for me now. I cannot bear it."
He looked like he wanted to protest, casting one last look about for somebody - anybody more qualified than him, but finally he nodded as my pleas became desperate. He took hold of my hand and moved my arm down towards him. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out.
His grip on my hand tightened and he placed his other hand on the front of my shoulder to help brace my body. He met my eye and I took a deep breath before nodding. Then he began to pull.
I screamed.
For what seemed like an eternity he held pressure on my arm. The muscles around the injury blazed like wildfire as they stretched, and ached, then relaxed, and finally I felt the joint grind back into place. I lifted my knees up, leaning forward with a sobbing groan that threatened to turn into a retch, yet already the pain was lessening, or at least changing into something more bearable.
Bofur moved back beside me and pulled me gently against him, his arm cradling my back as I slumped against his chest. We stayed like that until my breathing evened, but soon I was near overcome with exhaustion and was forced to move lest I fall asleep. I pulled away and cast my eyes upwards. The bats were gone; the skies clear save for a few eagles still soaring overhead.
"Is it over?" I asked quietly, looking to Bofur. I swallowed hard, my bruised throat still ached, causing my voice to sound very raucous.
"Aye, almost." he replied with a slight nod. He then leaned his head down and pressed his forehead lightly to mine
"I almost lost you. I have almost lost you more times then I dare count." he said softly. "I cannot tell you how sorry I am. I will never put you in harm's way again."
I reached a hand up and ran a finger down the side of his face.
"It was not your fault." I whispered. "We both made it."
Though I wanted to, I refrained from kissing him. I knew my face was full of grime; his was too for that matter.
"Help me up." I asked, moving to try and get my legs under me.
"Slowly, love." With his arms firmly under my own pulling my weight I was able to find my feet, but not without a strong wave of dizziness that forced me to double over. I took a few deep breaths, my vision blotting out but gradually clearing, before I straightened up again, heavily supporting myself against Bofur.
I looked around and felt a sense of surrealism descend as I took in the valley, its terrain now vastly different due to the sheer number of bodies that blanketed the ground. The survivors, which seemed so few compared to the vastness of the dead, now slowly picked their way through the wreckage, checking for signs of life amidst the carnage.
Dale was still burning.
"Beorn?" I muttered, looking around for the skin-changer as I remembered my last moments before blacking out.
"I'm not sure." Bofur replied. "He waited until I got to you, but I haven't seen him since."
"Where are the others?" I asked, suddenly panicked, scanning the nearest dwarves in hopes to see someone familiar. I started forward, stumbling somewhat in my haste.
"Easy now. We'll find them." Bofur insisted, slowing me down to barely an amble. "You need a healer." he remarked, shifting his arm to better hold me up.
We began to pick our way towards the ruined city and along route we were waved down and joined by Óin, Nori, and Dain.
"You fought?" Nori asked me incredulously, looking me head to foot with a confused expression.
"No. I'm just having a really bad day." I retorted in my hoarse voice with a slight smirk.
Dain chuckled. "This cherub was on the field almost as long as you sorry lot!" he remarked boisterously. "Needed savin' a few times, mind, but I saw her cut down her fair share." He shot me a quick wink then excused himself to speak to his commanding officer.
"Oh, I like him." I said quietly to Bofur with a small smile as we carried on further into the valley.
Bofur frowned in mock severity.
"What happened to all that 'It's not the size, but how you use it' talk then?" He questioned, frown giving way to a grin.
"Oh, I'm sure he knows how to use it." I teased but then patted his arm. "Nowhere near as well as you though, surely." I added with a small smile.
Overhead, the eagles still circled from time to time, but nowhere near to their full strength. Bofur explained that many were now far afield, hunting down the last remnants of the orcish warband to ensure they did not regroup and return.
As we drew nearer to Dale, we began to pass through more and more groups of survivors, though many were much worse off. We approached one of the larger parties and amidst them we found Dori and Ori. Much to Bofur's delight, we were joined by Bombur and Bifur shortly thereafter.
Bifur caused quite the stir with his returned ability to speak common and everyone was eager to inspect his head wound. He, however, curtly denied them the opportunity to, and I didn't quite blame him; even from my vantage the gaping impression in his skull where the axe had been looked rather off-putting.
I began to go through the list of dwarves we had been reunited with in my head. Ori, Dori, Nori - check. Bofur, Bombur and Bifur - check. Óin - check.
"What are you doing here?" A gruff voice rasped from behind me, and I checked Gloin off the list as well.
Bofur explained my part in the battle to the others while our small groups reunited, with as much enthusiasm and revelry as we could muster after such a costly victory. I could hardly believe our fortune, when we literally had to step over countless fallen dwarves; here we all were, alive and well, except for...
"Thorin." I said suddenly, stopping in my tracks and causing them all to pause and look back at me. "And the others. Have they returned?"
"Returned?" Dori questioned. "Returned from where?"
"You saw them?" Bofur asked, turning and looking at me intently.
I nodded. "Yes, I ran into him on the field. They were going to charge Ravenhill, to kill Azog..." I cast my eyes to the quiet peak and could not remember hearing the enemy's warhorn being blown since they had left. They must have succeeded in cutting the commanding force down.
"We should go up there. Thorin is probably sitting on Azog's corpse waiting for us now." Gloin commented, taking lead and changing our route.
The others quickly agreed and began towards the base of the hill.
Bofur pulled me to a stop just as I began to follow.
"Hun, you need a healer, you do not look well." Bofur said as kindly as he could. "Let's carry on to Dale; we can meet them later after you've rested."
I hesitated. True, I hurt. Everywhere I hurt. I could feel warm blood travelling down my side and I could barely stand up on my own. My eyes were burning with fatigue and from the sweat and blood and smoke that assaulted them... But still, I wanted to be sure, I needed to know they were all accounted for.
I shook my head.
"I will rest after, I promise." I said defiantly. "Please, let's go see them first."
Bofur eventually nodded and we began to follow the others. Bombur had waited a short distance off, and so we fell into step beside him.
As we neared the crest of the stairway climbing Ravenhill, despite my last ounces of strength waning away, I hurried forward, putting distance between Bofur and I by merit of my extra height alone. I wanted to see the reunion of the dwarves, to hear Kili's contagious laughter, to witness the last triumphant moments of a journey we had began so long ago. True, I had not been there for the onset, but I was determined to celebrate their success just the same.
I all but dashed across the weather worn flagstones of the hill's fortifications but drew up short of the river's edge, my foolish optimism quickly melting away as I noticed the first signs that something was amiss.
Dwalin and Balin knelt by the body of their King, yet neither tended him. Dwalin's arms clasped those of his brothers', their foreheads touched together... but there was no gladness here.
I felt my body go cold as I took another few steps forward onto the ice, and my mind reeled as I saw the blood welling beneath Thorin's body, setting a flow of crimson down the icy falls for all the world to see.
I struggled to make sense of what should have been a happy occasion. I fell to my knees as my hopeful elation harshly gave way to utter despair.
Thorin Oakenshield was dead.
I felt Bofur sink down beside me, wrapping an arm around my back. I vaguely noticed Bombur kneel down beside us as well before I began to cry.
My sobs, however, caught still in my chest at the sight of movement on the far bank.
The remaining members of the company bore Fili between them. Their movement was slow, reverent, and I knew that Thorin was not the only son of Durin to die that day.
I heard Bofur moan piteously as his arm slipped from my back. He raised his hands to cover his face, slumping forward slightly in grief.
I could barely see through my tears, yet even through my haze of anguish I realized something else was wrong. If Fili had fallen, Kili would not have been easily parted from his brother's body, yet I did not see him. I wiped my eyes and hastily looked around, my fear thickening with each second.
I scrambled to my feet, forgetting all my pains and injuries. I felt a hand gently grab my own and glanced down to see Bofur peering up at me, his cheeks wet with tears.
"Where's Kili?" I asked both him and myself, my voice strong but shaking slightly with worry.
Bofur stood up and looked around as well.
"Where is Kili!?" I shouted, stepping forward towards the others whom had just laid Fili next to his uncle. I tried not to glance down at them. I could not accept it. Not yet.
"Where is he?" I demanded, becoming slightly hysterical sounding as I reached forward and grabbed Gloin by the forearm, fixing him with a demanding stare.
"We do not yet know, lass." he said after a moment, casting his eyes to the ground. A shaky breath then caught in his throat, and he lifted a hand up to wipe at his eyes before mumbling "Haven't the heart to look..."
"He could still be alive somewhere." I reasoned quickly. "He could be injured."
I did not waste another moment but took off at a run towards the far bank.
I shouted Kili's name as loud as I could when I reached the base of the tower. I heard nothing in response so I began up the steps as fast as my body would allow. I came to a landing and found my energy failing. I leaned back against the stone wall, my head spinning with dizziness.
"Kili!" I shouted again, my strained voice laced with desperation and breathless exhaustion.
I felt what little hope I had harboured for him begin to disappear, but then I heard a response.
"He's here." It was not Kili's voice, but a woman's.
I forced myself to continue up the steps towards the source. A room full of dead orcs greeted me at the top. I stepped around the edge of the room, avoiding them, and into a corridor which opened out to overlook the whole valley below.
My pace faltered. I took a tentative step, then another, a hand reaching out to the wall for support as I entered the light, and saw my dark fears made real.
Kili.
Tauriel sat beside him, clasping his hand as she cried.
I tried to muffle the keening sob that tried to escape my lips by pressing my hand firmly over my mouth.
Tauriel looked up at me with tortured eyes but she tried to soften her expression, sitting up slightly and beckoning me over with her other hand.
I took a few nervous steps towards them, not wanting to impose if she needed this time with him. I glanced at her worriedly. I did not know elves cried.
"It is alright. Come." she said in a slightly strained but kind voice, moving over slightly and indicating for me to sit next to her. I obeyed, slumping to my knees by Kili's side. I only managed a fleeting look at his face before I succumbed once more to grief. I could not comprehend that I would never again hear his voice; never again see his face light up with his mischievous smile. He was supposed to outlive me... they all were.
"I don't understand." I cried as my body began to shake. I hid my face in my hands as I lamented over the bitter unfairness of war and the loss of my companions.
"He did not suffer long." Tauriel uttered and I tried to control my crying enough to look up at her. "I am sorry. I tried to..." she trailed off, bowing her head so that her long hair hid her stricken face. "I should go, his people are coming." she said quietly after a few moments.
She gracefully got to her feet but I quickly pushed myself up as well and tentatively took her hands before she could leave. We stared at each other, studying each other's tear-streaked, dirty, saddened features.
"Don't apologize... He would not want you to feel guilty. This wasn't your fault." I managed to vocalize, squeezing her hands slightly as more tears escaped my eyes.
She frowned and bowed her head slightly, and after a moment I ignored my better judgement and embraced her. Surprisingly she did not curtly push me away but instead tensed for just a moment in surprise before wrapping her arms around me as well.
"He loved you." I whispered comfortingly but felt another sob course through her body. I squeezed her a little tighter, absentmindedly letting her perfect red hair slide along my fingers.
She began to pull away so I let her go and stepped back, following her gaze towards the corridor's entrance where Bofur, Ori and Nori now stood, ashen faced, as they looked down at their last fallen prince. Tauriel quickly swiped her hand across her cheek and moved to step past me but I touched her arm, halting her departure once more.
"You don't have to go." I encouraged quietly.
"I need to," she replied sadly. She then looked me over and frowned slightly. "Go to my people's healers, they will be tending the wounded in Dale."
I nodded slightly before stepping away from her and walking towards Bofur. He opened his arms to me as I approached and I gladly fell into them. I turned slightly as I leaned into his chest and saw Tauriel kneel back down next to Kili's body and move a strand of hair off his face, her lovely features graced once more with sorrow.
"Come." I mumbled, straightening and grabbing Bofur's hand. I reached out and grabbed Nori's arm as well and nodded at Ori to follow into the stairwell to give them some privacy while she said goodbye.
After a few moments Tauriel hastily strode past us and down the stairs, not even sparing a backwards glance. I accepted her departure this time, but felt a pang of regret realizing I might not see her again in my lifetime.
Leaning on Bofur we made our way back to Kili's form. Ori kneeled down beside him and openly cried. Nori followed suit, grasping his brother's shoulder but otherwise remaining still, his face seemingly frozen in shock as he looked down at his kinsman.
I laid my head against Bofur's shoulder and rested my eyes for a moment as his arm came to rest around my back.
"Bofur, I'm so tired." I whispered, feeling the entire weight of the past day settle on my shoulders. I needed to rest or else I'd soon be collapsing where I stood.
"I know, love." Bofur responded. "Hold on just a little longer."
I opened my eyes as he roused Nori and Ori. "Alright lads... let's bring him to the others.."
He ensured I was able to stand alone before moving forward. Stooping down he slid his arms under Kili and lifted him up, pulling him close against his chest and adjusting his weight so that he was able to carry him out.
"Ori, help her." Bofur ordered, seeing me sway on my feet slightly. Ori quickly obliged, rushing forward and wrapping an arm through mine. He eased me forward towards the stairs; I could still hear him sniffling.
We went down first while the others carefully followed, Nori helping ensure Bofur did not lose his footing.
As we exited the tower I looked back and saw tears streaming from Bofur's eyes as he carried our fallen friend back to his kin. I hiccupped a sob and clung closer to Ori, returning my gaze to the ground.
When the others noticed our advancement a growling, grief stricken yell rent the air and I looked up to see Dwalin violently punch the ground with both fists before placing his face in his bloodied hands.
"Bugger all! Not him too!" The thickly accented voice of Dain shouted as he got up from Thorin's side and slowly walked towards us, his face crinkled in sadness as he shook his head. "This cannot be!" The large dwarf closed the distance to Bofur and took Kili from his arms, holding the dwarven prince like a sleeping child and turning to move him, placing him gently beside his brother and uncle.
Others were approaching now as well - dwarves, mostly, but among them Gandalf, and Bilbo. As the pair approached, I heard Bilbo asking something in an uncertain, shaky voice. Without turning to look at them, I would not have made out the reply.
"What now? Now, we persuade Dain Ironfoot to be king." Gandalf replied, flashing a half-hearted smile at the hobbit before glancing up to me as he approached. His smile diminished slightly, his sad old eyes lingering on mine for a moment, and then with a gentle touch to my shoulder he had passed and approached the slain.
I watched Bilbo walk up to Bofur, looking every bit as helpless and lost as everyone felt. He raised his hand to his mouth as he glimpsed down at Kili, then turned to Bofur and embraced him.
Bofur clung to the hobbit for a moment before releasing him. He then returned to me to relieve Ori so that he could go grieve with his brothers.
"Let's go to Dale." Bofur insisted quietly, taking the bottom of my arms in his grasp.
I shook my head, a sudden, inexplicable panic rising in my chest. "No. I don't want to go." I pleaded, trying to pull out of his grasp.
Blots began to dance about my vision and I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment trying to clear it. I did not want to be whisked away to a healer's tent, to be separated from the others and forgotten. Bofur said something to reassure me, but I could not make out his words. My world was continuing to darken and I felt his grip on my arm tighten.
"Don't make me leave you again." I said weakly, before felt my body give way and I fell, once more, into the sweet oblivion of unconsciousness.