Type: Songfic 

Pairing: Female Reader x Bofur

Warning: Kinda sad

Enjoy!

https://youtu.be/Z3TR-Gfj9Yo

I stare, wide-eyed, at the destruction before me. Without a second thought, I race into the rubble of the long-ago destroyed city, paying no heed to the calls from my friends behind me. I run along the path towards the old windmill, only it's crumbling foundations still standing, my feet thumping along the worn path. For a sharp moment, I am seven years old again, running home from school to meet my mother at the front door. She balances by baby sister on her hip as she waves to me. My older brother is out with my father in the nearby fields, hunting rabbit for our sparse dinner. It's my small world and I love it.

Then I remember. I remember my mother and sister swallowed by flames, a charred heap on the ground. I remember my father telling my brother to take me and run. He picks me up and carries me all the way to the edge of the city, then heads back to help my father. I am alone and lost in the panic. The dragon is above.

The dragon destroys.

The dragon burns.

The dragon kills.

I snap out of it and crumple to my knees in the ruins of my childhood home. I hear footsteps behind me, but I do not care. I am overcome with raw grief and pain and the world swims before my eyes. I am shaking and clutching my head as I shake. Then I feel someone hugging me tight and my vision starts to clear. I recognize Bofur hugging me close as I shake, trying to calm me down. Eventually, I compose myself and apologize for running away. He just nods and smiles softly at me. I look around at the ruins again and Bofur puts his arm around my shoulder protectively. I blink away salty tears and begin humming a tune my mother used to sing to me, although I change the words. Bofur listens silently, his presence beside me protective and comforting.

"This is the Dale of my childhood.
These were the borders of my life.
In this crumbling, dusty attic
Where an artist loved his wife.

Easy to remember,
Harder to move on.
Knowing the Dale of my childhood
Is gone."

Bofur wraps me in another hug and I cry into his arms. The rest of our adventurous company finally arrives and circles around me, trying to be comforting, until Bofur shoos them away, scolding them to give me some space. I appreciate his kindness and look up at him with a smile through the tears. "Thank you so much, Bofur," I say softly and he smiles sympathetically. "Anytime, lass," he replies and we stand in silence again, still hugging. A short while later, I move back a little and wipe away the last tears. "Thanks again," I tell him and kiss his cheek quickly. He looks almost comically surprised and I take his hand as we walk over to where the others are waiting.

Fili, Kili, and Balin smile knowingly at us, but I just shrug. Sure, I've fancied Bofur for a long while, but now isn't the time to bring up the topic of love. A while later, the company is especially quiet as we sit around a warm fire, the night starting to set in. Bilbo seems on edge, glancing around worriedly. Most of the dwarves are talking quietly in a group, except for Thorin, Balin, Gandalf, and the twins. Those exceptions of the company are just watching the fire, stealing glances at me and Bofur occasionally. I'm seated next to him and his arm is around my shoulder. My head rests on his and we gaze into the fire together, content in each other's company.