Bilbo pinched himself and bit back a yelp, pleased to find that he wasn't dreaming. He really was about to see an elven cock. An elven cock! Most hobbits had never seen an elf before, let alone an elf's dick.

Bilbo was a very lucky hobbit indeed—though to be honest, he thought he rather deserved this unexpected reward. Since leaving the Shire, he'd endured getting drenched in troll snot, chased by Wargs, and attacked by spiders; he'd gone far too long without a proper meal, and the evenings he used to spend in front of his cosy fireplace at Bag End seemed like a distant memory. To top it all off, he'd put up with enough dwarvish grumbling to last him a lifetime. He was well overdue for a treat such as the one being clumsily unwrapped before his very eyes.

It was a good thing he had come down to the cellars for an entirely different purpose (though he could hardly remember it at the moment), or he might have felt guilty for spying on the two unwitting elves enjoying their wine…and each other.

Bilbo had been wandering about the Elvenking's halls, under the cover of his invisibility ring, for a few days after the Company's imprisonment when he discovered the possibility of helping his dwarf friends escape through the cellars. There was a trapdoor there, not far from where he now stood, which the elves occasionally opened in order to drop empty wine barrels into the spring that ran below the palace. The barrels would then flow past the water gate and into the Forest River.

If only Bilbo could get his hands on the prison keys—which were, incidentally, hanging from a belt mere inches away from the cock he was about to see—and get the dwarves into the empty barrels, they might all be able to escape. It was a mad idea, but Bilbo was willing to take the risk.

He'd been visiting the cellars regularly since he'd discovered the water gate, in hopes of cooking up a plan. But all he'd managed to cook up so far was a strong dislike of the king's butler, whose dealings had shattered any naïve illusions Bilbo may still have harboured of elven decency and innocence.

It was a given. If the butler was down in the cellars, sooner or later one of the guards would seek him out, saying, "Save me, Galion, the wine you've sent up is poison! How about a sip of the good stuff?"

"You'll drink what you were given or nothing at all," was Galion's usual reply. "The king's wine isn't for the likes of you. Now begone!"

Initially, Bilbo wasn't too perturbed by these visits from the guards. It seemed natural that they would try their luck at getting a taste of some better wine, and they were all sent away at once—or so Bilbo had thought.
But within a week of having discovered the cellars, he saw that Galion didn't send them all away. There were a select few whom he led to a small, secluded room that served as a supply closet. With the door shut, Bilbo couldn't tell for certain what they did in there, but considering the length of time it took—usually about a quarter of an hour—he had a few ideas. Afterwards, Galion served these guards the wine he'd denied the others.

Some of this bartering went on even in the presence of other servants. Bilbo couldn't help but wonder how Galion could feel secure enough in his position to be so open about these dealings.

Then, earlier today: a big surprise! Bilbo had just arrived in the cellars when in came the dark-haired guard he'd often seen keeping watch over the prisoners. It was a disappointing turn. This guard seemed like a particularly nice fellow (he was kinder to the dwarves than the others). Bilbo had expected better from him.

When Galion stepped out from behind a row of large barrels and saw his visitor, he lit up. "Elros! I thought you'd forgot your way down here," he said, beaming. "I have something exquisite for you tonight. You're going to love it."

Bilbo found this exuberant greeting curious. The best welcome any of the other guards had received was an indulgent sigh, sometimes accompanied by a smirk.

But Elros looked at the empty barrels being stacked along the trapdoor and hesitated. "I should not stay. Clearly you've got work to do—these barrels should have been sent back to Esgaroth hours ago."

"Today is a day for merrymaking, not work," Galion said, steering him away from the barrels. To the servants, he added, "You may go!"

Indeed, judging by the sounds of laughter and singing coming from above, the feast Bilbo had heard talk of earlier was well underway.

"I have the dwarves in my charge." Elros still sounded unsure.

Galion laughed as he guided him towards the back. "They're locked up. Where can they go?"

Bilbo's heart skipped a beat when the two elves passed by and he spotted the key ring hanging from Elros's belt. If only he could get a hold of those keys!

He watched them enter the supply closet but made no attempt to follow—it was too tight a space for a party of three if he didn't want to risk alerting them to his presence. Instead, he made his way over to an alcove near the entrance to the cellars. His stomach was grumbling, and there was a cheese platter on the table there. (Galion had been expecting one of his favourites tonight, it seemed.)

Bilbo took the opportunity to steal a couple slices of cheese. It was so delicious he nearly hummed in appreciation, but stopped himself upon remembering where he was. He was on his last bite when a soft, ecstatic moan came from behind the closed door. It was soon followed by another.

That was most unusual. Bilbo had never before heard any evidence of what went on in the closet. Now he felt a blush creep across his cheeks.

"Aye, Elros!" Galion exclaimed, confirming Bilbo's suspicion that he was the one making all the noise. "Just like that… So good…" A moment later he gave a draw-out, strangled cry and there was silence once more.

Bilbo stepped out of the alcove and backed up against the wall to avoid being bumped into when the door opened and the elves reemerged. The entire affair had taken half as long as it usually did. He understood now why Galion had been so excited to see Elros.

Stealthily, he repositioned himself for a better view into the alcove.

Elros sat down at the table. His hair, which had been as neat as any elf's when he entered the cellars, was now a mess; he surreptitiously tried to tuck the loose strands back into place while Galion poured the wine.

Galion looked happier than ever. "I haven't come that hard since…well, since the last time you came down here," he said. "I do wish you had a bigger appetite for wine." He handed Elros a goblet. "Here, try this. It's the best vintage we've had in a long time."

Blushing to the tips of his ears, Elros swirled the goblet and sniffed its contents. He took a sip. Bilbo thought he saw his face twist into the slightest of grimaces.

"What do you think?" Galion asked.

"Honestly—I've had better."

Galion's smile faded; he looked stumped. "You might still have traces of my seed in your mouth," he said at last. "That would not combine well. Here, have a bit of cheese and try again in a minute."

Now Bilbo knew exactly what the elves had done in the closet.

Elros blushed again as he took a slice from the platter. He didn't seem very hungry, nibbling on the cheese between long sips of wine. He watched from beneath thick, dark lashes as Galion drank from his own goblet, though his eyes darted away whenever the other elf glanced in his direction.

There was an awkward tension in the air. Bilbo had the impression that both guard and butler had things they wanted to say to one another but were holding back for whatever reason. In the case of hobbits or dwarves, the wine might have helped things along, but from what Bilbo had seen of elves, they weren't easily affected by alcohol.

"Sounds like they're having a lot of fun up there," Elros said, for the silence in the cellars was constantly interrupted by bursts of distant laughter.

"It's better down here," Galion replied softly, looking at Elros in a way that said the special vintage had little to do with why he preferred to be right where he was.

Elros's lips quirked. "Aye, it is."

An inexplicable warmth spread through Bilbo's chest as he watched the two elves, each probably older than the entire Company combined, carry on like a couple of bashful young hobbits. He couldn't imagine Thorin Oakenshield offering subtle compliments or shy smiles—though why he was thinking of Thorin at the moment, he had no idea.

"Ah, so you do like it," Galion said as Elros refilled his goblet for the second time.

"It's a bit dry for my taste, but otherwise it's all right."

"I'll get you something sweeter," Galion said, and he rose, swaying a little.

But Elros stopped him. "There's no need. This 's fine—really."

It might have been Bilbo's imagination, but he thought Elros's speech was starting to sound slurred.

Galion sat back down, albeit reluctantly.

Elros took a sip and laughed. "Actually, I don't care much for wine. I can hardly taste the difference between this stuff and what we're served at dinner." Then, taking his lower lip in between his teeth, he looked at Galion and added, "I jus' like sucking you off."

Bilbo's jaw dropped. Galion stared, blinking.

Elros returned his attention to the goblet before him. "And drinking with you," he added quietly.

Seeing the disheartened look on his face, Bilbo felt sorry for him.

At last, Galion snapped out of his daze. He moved his chair closer to Elros's and wound an arm around his waist. "Why didn't you say anything sooner?" he asked, giving him a playful tug. "I've grown weary of my dealings with the guards. It's you I've wanted all along."

Elros turned to him, wide-eyed. "You want me?"

"Have I been too subtle?" Galion asked teasingly. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind Elros's ear.

"No, but… I assumed you treat everyone like they're your favourite."

"You were wrong," Galion said, and he closed the distance between them.

Bilbo felt like he should look away, but he couldn't. The elves made a stunning display as they kissed and caressed—long, shiny hair cascading together in warm shades of brown; slender hands roaming over lithe bodies; tunic collars being forced open to reveal smooth, ivory skin that would be nipped and sucked until it turned red. Bilbo could feel their shared happiness radiating from them and filling him with warmth.

Yet his eyes were repeatedly drawn to the keys hanging from Elros's belt, and he wondered if he might be able to remove them without the elves noticing.

"I s'pose I should start repaying you for the blowjobs you gave me," Galion said, reaching in between the flaps of Elros's jerkin, "and the horrible wine I made you drink."

"Mmhmm," came the pleased but sleepy-sounding reply.

Galion tugged blindly on the laces of Elros's leggings as they kissed again, but the knot wouldn't give. Eventually he pulled away, saying with a self-deprecating laugh, "This isn't going quite as smoothly as I expected."

Elros tried to help, but all that did was make their fingers tangle together over his crotch.

Now, having seen the affection with which the butler looked at his guard and having heard the warmth in his voice as they talked and laughed together, Bilbo couldn't help but think he might've judged him a little too harshly.

As he watched Galion work impatiently on unlacing Elros's leggings, he pinched himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. He really was about to see what no other hobbit before him could possibly have seen.

And there it was: an elf's cock—long and smooth and magnificent—on display for Bilbo's viewing pleasure.

He blinked.

It was thicker than he'd expected. Elves generally had a lean and elongated look about them, compared to other races, and Bilbo had half-expected the elf's appendage to lack in girth what it boasted in length. But that was not the case. It was perfectly proportioned—in Bilbo's opinion, at least. (He suspected dwarves might disagree.)

Galion looked pleased with Elros's cock as well. He wrapped his hand around the shaft and gave it a few experimental tugs, watching the other elf's reaction. Elros's lips parted, and he leaned in for another kiss.

It was starting to get a bit warm in the cellars; Bilbo wished he could take off his coat. At least he managed to quietly untie the belt and let a little air under his shirt.

A gasp drew his attention back to the elves. Galion was rubbing his thumb over the slit of Elros's cock and smearing the fluid oozing from it. Elros's head fell back; his arched chest rose and fell erotically with each breath as he thrust up into Galion's palm. Galion resumed stroking, his hand making lewd wet sounds as it glided up and down the shaft. Elros tightened his grip on Galion's waist and moaned.

There was no denying it: Bilbo was getting turned on.

There was nothing he could do to keep from getting further aroused, with the exception of attempting to leave the premises—but those darn keys were still there, tempting him.

There came the sound of wood scraping against wood as Galion pushed his chair back a little and bent down to take Elros's cock in his mouth.

Bilbo turned away at once; he didn't feel he had the right to see elves do such a thing. He'd heard of blowjobs before, but he'd never given or received one. The general agreement amongst hobbits was that mouth-to-genital contact wasn't natural. He wondered if dwarves shared this view— and thought of Thorin again.

Perplexed by the workings of his mind, Bilbo decided that perhaps it was better to watch the elves, after all.

Galion's mouth was closed around Elros's cock, making his cheekbones appear sharper than normal as his head bobbed up and down the glistening shaft. One of his hands gripped Elros's hips for support while the other cupped his balls, rolling them gently.

Elros had pulled Galion's hair away from his face; the ends were twisted and wrapped around his fingers like a shimmery brown rope. The wine and lust must have loosened his tongue, for he was saying things Bilbo wouldn't have imagined him capable of. Some of it was too quiet or slurred for Bilbo to understand, but he thought he caught the most important bits.

"...wanted you for so long..."

"...tight little arse..."

"...going to fuck it so hard..."

"...make you see stars. Make you mine."

The words spurred Galion on. He moaned wantonly around Elros's cock and sucked with renewed fervour.

But then something strange happened. Instead of reaching a crescendo, the proceedings began to wind down. Elros grew silent. Galion's enthusiasm also began to wane. He let Elros's cock slip out of his mouth, stroking it instead while he rested his forehead against Elros's thigh. After a while, his hand almost stopped moving. Then he seemed to remember what he'd been doing and lifted his head with a groan, returning sleepily to his task.

Elros looked as if he'd nodded off. He sat with his eyes closed and head bowed forward. A soft grunt escaping his throat was the only sign that he registered Galion's mouth resuming its work on his cock. Within a minute his breath hitched and his body went taut. His hips bucked and quivered in Galion's grip as he swallowed his load. Then he relaxed once more and let his head drop to the table.

Galion wiped his mouth on his sleeve, then shifted and snuggled into Elros's lap. Promptly he began to snore.

Bilbo nearly sighed with relief. He'd thought his cock might burst through his trousers. He'd have left the cellars long ago and gone to find a good spot for a wank if it hadn't been for…

Bilbo straightened suddenly.

The keys! He'd almost forgot about the keys!

Bilbo retied his coat and took a deep breath. Step by cautious step, he approached the elves. They were definitely asleep, but Galion's head was only inches away from the keys, and his arm was outstretched in such a way that it would be difficult to detach the ring without touching him.

I am a burglar, Bilbo reminded himself firmly. How can I expect to steal a from a dragon if I can't rob a drunk, sleeping elf of his keys?

Bilbo reached out and gingerly grasped the keys first, so as to keep them from jingling. Then he waited, keenly aware of the musky scent lingering in the air as a result of the elves' activities, as he watched them for any sign of movement. When he thought it safe to proceed, he reached for the ring with his other hand—but before he could get a hold of it, Galion stirred.

Bilbo froze. His pulse was pounding in his ears as he waited to sure the butler hadn't woken up.

'Old Galion,' the servants liked to call him. He didn't look old, though. Even from up close, Bilbo couldn't spot a single line on his face. Back in the Shire they'd say this was unnatural, and in this case he was inclined to agree. Elves were strange beings, indeed.

He hoped, for Galion's sake, that he wouldn't roll over or shift too much in his sleep—because if he did, he'd fall.

After waiting a few more seconds, Bilbo tried again. He struggled a bit as he attempted to detach the ring, but at last it came free. If the elves hadn't been so close by, he would have breathed a gigantic sigh of relief. As it was, he settled for a quiet, grateful exhale and silently began making his way toward the dungeons.

It proved to be a more difficult task than he'd imagined, because the keys were big and his hands were rather small, so he couldn't stop them from clinking together every now and then. But at last he made it out of the cellars.

Thankfully the dungeons were empty. Elros was, of course, asleep in the cellars, and the other guards were probably feasting. Bilbo ran as fast as his furry feet could carry him, until at last he made it to the dwarves' cells. They were so happy to see him—once he'd taken off his ring—that he had to remind them to keep their voices down.

"Follow me," he said.

It was a rowdier procession down to the cellars than Bilbo would have liked, but somehow they managed to reach their destination without attracting attention.

"Shhh," Bilbo said, holding out an arm to halt the dwarves' progress. He stayed ahead of them, checking to make sure that Galion and Elros were still asleep and that no one else had entered. Satisfied with what he saw, he gestured for them to follow.

"I don't believe it—we're in the cellars!" Kíli hissed. Then he came to a halt. "What in—"

"Never you mind," Bilbo said, feeling unexpectedly protective, for the entire Company had stopped to gawk at the two sleeping elves. From where they stood they could see Elros's bare, flaccid cock and Galion's head in his lap, not a foot away from it.

"Ugh!" said Ori, and the others hushed him.

Remembering that he still had the prison keys in his hand, Bilbo snuck silently into the alcove and placed them quietly on the table. He didn't want Elros getting into any more trouble than he was already going to be in.

Once he was rid of the keys, Bilbo guided the Company past rows of barrels and racks of bottles, right down to the trapdoor.

Now came the tricky part.

"Everyone, climb into the barrels," he said. "Quickly!"

Just as he'd expected, the command was answered with grumbling and criticism.

"Are you mad?" Dwalin asked. "They'll find us!"

"No, they won't. I promise you," Bilbo said. He didn't elaborate because there wasn't time to explain his plan, and even if he tried, the dwarves would only argue further. "Please, please, you have to trust me."

The dwarves exchanged dubious looks, and Bilbo felt his blood begin to boil. Had he not already proven himself reliable? Had he not kept the trolls from eating them until Gandalf arrived?

He looked to Thorin for help. For a moment, as their eyes locked, he thought he wouldn't receive it. But Thorin turned to the others and commanded, "Do as he says!"

Now that their king had spoken, the dwarves climbed obediently into the barrels—though most of them did it while muttering under their breaths or shaking their heads. Bilbo gave a sigh of relief, and his heart swelled with gratitude. (It fluttered a bit, too, but there wasn't time to wonder about that.)

"What do I do now?" Bofur asked from inside one of the barrels.

"Hold your breath," Bilbo replied as he lifted the lever that opened the trapdoor.

The dwarves cried out in surprise as the barrels began to roll down and splash, one after another, into the water below. Soon Bilbo was left standing alone, and he realized that he hadn't considered himself in his clever escape plan.

And now he heard alarmed voices in the distance.

There was nothing for it. Taking a deep breath, Bilbo stepped onto the trapdoor. Further and further along it he went, until it tilted enough for him to slide the rest of the way. Just before he reached the end, he heard a startled, "Aaaah!" followed by a thud.

He winced.

The End.