A Shot in the Dark (Thilbo - Bagginshield)

Chapter 15

Despite his friendly and outgoing personality, Bofur did not have many close friends.

It was a strange idea to many who knew him because Bofur was the type who could make friends with anyone. He enjoyed drinking and singing and laughing and was always willing to sit and talk if asked. He liked most races—though Elves still left him weary—and could tolerate even the most annoying of people. He never lost his temper, was always willing to hear a good joke, and could drink an Elf under the table.

But despite all of these traits, Bofur still had a problem with friends.

He had his acquaintances and comrades, of course, and Mahâl knew he wasn't short on kin. But he couldn't say that he had anyone that he trusted or liked enough to stick around with. Perhaps it was his high expectations that made it so difficult, but he honestly believed that a friend was to be loyal, kind, honest, and reliable. Anything less and they weren't worth it.

Bombur was his brother and his first friend in life. After him had been Bjor and Asvald; two childhood friends who had died when Erebor fell. For a long time after he had not sought any friends; preferring instead to heal the wounds that Erebor had left behind. It wasn't until he moved to the Blue Mountains that he befriended a guard named Inge, and then eventually Dwalin.

Bofur never thought that someone of high birth would ever even speak to him let alone become a good friend, but Smaug had changed more than just him. Dwalin didn't care about his blood or his job as a miner and was simply happy to have someone to drink with. From Dwalin he had met Balin, who had introduced him to Dori, who in turn was happy to have someone to keep his brother Nori out of trouble.

Dwalin and Nori were unexpected friends, but he didn't regret meeting them for one second. Because with them came the expedition and the Company, and with the Company came the best twelve Dwarves he had ever known. And with all of that came Bilbo Baggins, who fascinated and impressed him daily. He never imagined that any of them would become so precious to him, and yet...

Bofur treasured them all. He treasured each of them like the gold so many of his kind sought and would happily fight to the death for any of them. He never thought he would have so many Dwarves as friends—not to mentions the king himself—and he never imagined he would even come to care for a Hobbit. But it happened and they were his now as much as Bombur and Bifur were, and Bofur was going to protect them all no matter what.

Because that? That was what friends were for.

~*~

When Bilbo took his first step out of Mirkwood, he realized they were running out of time.

"Oh no," he moaned as he took in the bright red and orange painted across the tops of the trees. The grass was beginning to become speckled with shades of brown, and there was now a noticeable chill to the air.

Fall had arrived.

"We're running out of time," muttered Ori at his side. His wide eyes were scanning the horizon with equal worry.

"We are," he agreed, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. "We're going to have to step it up if we want to get there on time."

"There's still the walk to Lake-town to get through," Ori fretted, playing with one of the beads in his hair, "and we need to replenish our supplies still. And we still don't know where those Orcs are..."

"The Elves will take care of Azog and his minions," the Hobbit reassured as Dori and Nori joined them on either side. "We just need to focus on getting to Lake-town."

"Our burglar is right," agreed Nori as he proceeded to use Bilbo's head as an arm rest. "The Orcs are not a concern. I'd be surprised if they could even get through the forest to begin with."