Thank you for following, favoriting and reviewing, I really appreciate that. I'm posting the first chapter so soon because I think Prologue is not even a real chapter, it's just an introduction and therefore I want to give you the real story as soon as possible. Next chapters probably won't be posted with such speed, but I'll try to update as often as I can. Enough talk, now on with the story! :)
And yeah - I still own nothing.

Chapter I

COUNTING CHICKENS

Bilbo follows Beorn and climbs one flight of stairs. They turn left after ascending, and the man leads Bilbo about twenty feet forward. He then takes the bundle of keys from his belt again and unlocks the cell.

Beorn motions for him to get in and Bilbo complies reluctantly. He is still shaken by the magnitude of the prison he now has to live in. In his head he has quickly counted that there must be approximately sixty cells in this huge space that reminds him of a big cave, made up of stone and metal. The ceilings are impossibly high and there isn't a single window in sight. If he has observed correctly, every cell is occupied by two people – it makes up to about one hundred and twenty convicts. He counts himself in since that is his position here and shudders.

His cell is small, but it's light and looks comfortable enough. In his nightmares Bilbo has seen a small, cold, dark space without windows. The no window part is right, but somehow it doesn't bother him. The little room is about six by eight feet in size, it's warm and doesn't smell of anything particulary revolting. On the right side of the cell there is a two-level bed, he sees that the bottom bunk is unoccupied. On the top bunk he catches a glimpse of two large feet in surprisingly clean white socks, but doesn't see the owner of said feet. Bilbo silently prays to himself that his cell mate isn't one of those huge guys who are keen to abuse their smaller roomies; he has seen too much of that on the telly and doesn't want to live through it himself.

The left wall of the cell is almost empty, there are some photographs on it, mostly landscapes. They are hanging at the eye-level of whoever is currently sleeping on the top bunk. By the far wall there is a metal sink, conjoined with a toilet. Next to it is a small cabinet, apparently where they are supposed to keep their toiletries. There is a small mirror hanging above the sink, and Bilbo catches sight of his own face, only now it's someone else's mask of terror. He has never seen himself this way.

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty!" Beorn has followed Bilbo into the cell and is currently shaking leg of the man who seems to be quietly snoring. "Rise and shine, you've got a roommate." Bilbo hears a grumble from the upper bed and gulps. He doesn't feel ready for this. Not yet. Not ever.

"You've got all primary necessary things here." It takes Bilbo a moment to realize that Beorn is now speaking to him, the larger man motions to his bed where Bilbo sees a rolled up mattres, some sheets and a pillow. "Also some of the hygiene items are in the cabinet. If you wish to get something else, you may contact a friend or relative to bring it to you. Phone calls are allowed, you can use the payphones when the schedule allows it." Bilbo notes in his mind that he has no coins on him. And it's not really as if he has plenty people to call. A knot ties itself in his throat.

"I guess that is all." Beorn says and turns to leave. "It's 7 p.m. already, so you will be spending the rest of the evening here." The man motions to the small space around him. "Learn who your neigbor is, get to know each other. You will be informed of our schedule tomorrow." He then proceeds to leave and punches the leg on upper bunk one last time as he passes by. "You alive there, Bofur?" Upon hearing another grumble of agreement, Beorn barks a laugh to himself and walks out, closing the barred door behind him. "Goodnight, Baggins." The man says with what seems to be a reassuring smile.

"Yes, um, thank you." Bilbo answers as he walks towards the door and touches the cold bars, looking around him. It is hard to see the cells that are on his sides, but he has a perfect view of those in front of him. All of them seem occupied. He lets out a long sigh and suddenly realizes that this is all very real. But it still doesn't feel so. He quietly wonders when will he accept this reality.

"So, not the chatty type, are ya?" Bilbo turns around at the sound of deep, yet cheerful voice to be met by a man sitting on the upper bed, smiling widely at him. Of all the possible faces Bilbo had imagined to belong to his new cell-mate, this open and welcoming expression isn't one of them.

"I.. um.. I guess, I'm just not.. I mean, hello." Bilbo chokes out, still not sure what to make of the man's lack of agression. The man simply laughs in return and jumps lightly off his bed. His new cell mate is taller than Bilbo (but then again, most people are), he is wearing the same navy trousers and gray jumper. He has dark brown hair and is sporting a short beard. It is difficult for Bilbo to determinte how long his hair is since the man is wearing what looks to be a knit hat with ear flaps.

He stretches out his hand for a handshake. "Bofur." When Bilbo doesn't reciprocate, the man laugs to himself, retrieves his hand, puts it around his middle and bows, using his other hand to take off the ridiculous hat that he is wearing. Bilbo takes notice that the man's hair is not much longer than his own. "At your service." The man says, using both his hands to put the hat back on. He then looks at Bilbo expectantly, a wide smile playing on his lips.

"Bilbo Baggins." He manages to get out without stumbling over his own words. "I'm sorry, I just... This is all very new to me." He forces himself to stetch out his own hand. "I didn't mean to be rude."

His cellmate's smile turns more sincere and symphathetic as he takes Bilbo's much smaller hand in his own large one and shakes it. "Don't worry about that, lad." He says cheerfully. "No harm done." The man says as he climbs back up onto his bed. "First time?"

"God, yes." Bilbo says tiredly as he allows himself to sit down on his bunk. He is exausted, and feels grateful that his cellmate doesn't seem to be some abusive maniac. He can't know for sure, but right now he can't find it in himself to care. He just wants to curl up in a ball, put his head under a pillow and sleep for three years straight.

"What for?" Bofur says in the meantime from upstairs. "If you don't mind me asking."

"I, um.. I guess, it's complicated." Bilbo says, trying to add some finality to his tone so the other man would understand that he isn't up for talking about it.

"Ah, you'll just tell me when you're ready." Comes a cheery response. "When's your due date?"

"Excuse me?"

"How long did you get?"

"Oh, that.. Three years." Bilbo sighs as he gets up to unroll his mattress and make the bed. It seems as though there is nothing else to do but sleep, just like Bofur was doing when Beorn brought him in.

"I got five. Been here six months, four and a half years to go." Bofur says and Bilbo hums to let the man know that he is listening. "Yeah, armed robbery gone wrong."

Bilbo looks up to him with wide eyes. "What.. what do you mean, 'gone wrong'?" He asks shakily and curses his own curiosity. It's not wise to question a man who is probably guilty in killing half the supermarket staff and then walking away, waving his crazy hat above his head. That's exactly how Bilbo imagines it.

"You should see your face, lad." The man in question laughs heartily. "By 'gone wrong' I mean I got caught on camera while cleaning out a gas station. That fucker of a manager had gotten one since the last time I visited." Bofur explains. "That and I was so hungover that I forgot to unload my gun before going in." He adds with a smile to his voice. "Coppers came in and found me with a loaded shotgun. Not my proudest moment, I can tell ya."

"Yeah, I bet." Bilbo says without thinking. He then realizes that it might not be appropriate. "I'm sorry."

Bofur lets out another laugh. It seems to Bilbo that the man in only capable of laughing. "Nah, you're fine. But I would be careful around other inmates, not everyone is such a sunshine like me."

Bilbo gulps. "Really? Oh boy, I really have to go out, don't I?" He doesn't even know if it's a question for Bofur or himself.

"M'fraid so. But it's not that bad, you just gotta observe for a while to learn the rules. Whad'ya do before getting nailed?"

"I'm an accountant." Just saying it leaves an unpleasant taste in his mouth.

"So you're not a dumbass." Bilbo has to scoff at that. If he wasn't a dumbass, he wouldn't be here. But Bofur doesn't seem to notice. "Just turn your brains on, watch and listen. And don't make friends in the wrong places."

"What do you mean?"

"You'll see tomorrow. We get up at seven, have breakfast and then have free time outside until two. I'll take ya for a walk."

At that Bilbo manages a nervous laugh. He doesn't know this man, and while he seems harmless, Bilbo has no way of knowing what is going on in his head. His cellmate seems to read his thoughts in Bilbo's lack of response, so he feels it is necessary to poke his head down from his bed and look at Bilbo who is lying down on his bunk.

"Lad, you don't know me and shouldn't trust me, that's for sure. But I'm not going to climb down and lick your feet in your sleep, if that's what you're scared of." Bilbo wants to say that it wouldn't be the worst thing he could think of happening to a small man like him, but bites the comment down.

"Plus, we're in the same boat, you and me, 'cuz I have no way of knowing that you're not some sort of crazy-ass maniac, either." That earns him a chuckle from Bilbo.

"Yeah, I guess you don't."

"Glad we have it settled then." There is a yawn from upstairs. "I'm tucking in for the night now. Feel at home; if you want any privacy while using the loo, just hang a sheet on the door, there's one under your bunk. And see ya in the morning."

"Yes, thank you." Bilbo says and he means it. "Good night."

"G'night."

Not a couple seconds later there are soft snores from above him. Bilbo thanks the universe for giving him a cellmate that sleeps quietly. He is a light sleeper as it is, and sleeping in prison does nothing to lessen his anxiety. But the fact that he is separated from others by steel bars and that the man that he is not separated from seems fine, helps him at least get comfortable enough to try and fall asleep.

Bilbo Baggins closes his eyes and prepares for his first night as a prisoner. In his head he counts the days that are left until he is released and mentally crosses one day off.

It takes him some time to understand where he is. Bilbo is woken up by loud siren that keeps ringing for what seems to be eternity. He groans to himself and tries to scramble his brains back together into one pile. It doesn't happen quickly enough because when he hears humming somewhere near his head, Bilbo jumps up on his bed and bangs his head on what seems to be the ceiling. But it couldn't be..

"Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey!" A deep voice rumbles with laughter and it all comes back to him in one huge wave that sweeps him off his feet. Lobelia. Taxes. Prison. Bofur, was it?

"You're lucky to be sleeping like a dead man, I can tell ya that." His cellmate says as he puts toothpaste on his brush. "Get up, I'm taking you out for breakfast in five minutes." Bofur says cheerfully; that earns him a glare and another grunt from Bilbo.

"Not a morning person, huh? Well, I've dealt with worse." He says and proceeds to brush his teeth while humming a song, not opposed to having a grumpy roommate.

Bilbo gets up reluctantly, still wondering about the fact that he had slept so tight. He must have been completely drained to shut down like that.

"Is it seven already?"

"Yep. So you better get your ass up and ready, I'm all done here." Bofur says after gargling and spitting out in the sink.

"Yes, thank you." Bilbo does as he's been told; he can hear other inmates getting up as te mumbe of voices and various sounds grows louder and louder. He sighs and sets to discover his new morning routine.

It isn't five star hotel breakfast, but Bilbo doesn't mind since he had imagined it to be much, much worse. He keeps his eyes on his plate, not willing to see the faces of people around him yet. Bofur sits accross from him and keeps talking around his food about nothing in particular. Bilbo nods along, but doesn't really listen.

"Hey, Earth to Master Baggins!"

"Huh?! What?" He nearly jumps in his seat.

"And what are you thinking about?" Bofur winks. Bilbo just shakes his head and tries not to smile. "Anyway, I was just saying that I'm done, and we can go out if you're up to." He says as he stands up.

"Yeah, um, thanks, but you don't have to do this." Bilbo mutters, secretly hoping that Bofur wouldn't hear. He doesn't want to be a burden, but neither does he want to go out and face whatever is out there alone.

"Don't be stupid." His cellmate laughs as he throws one arm around his shoulders and leads him outside. "I'm not gonna let my new roomie get mauled by these dogs." Bilbo takes in a sharp breath. "Not today, anyway." Bofur says and laughs when he feels Bilbo tense next to him.

"I'm just kidding, lad, don't be such a scaredy cat."

"Well, then try not to scare me all the time." Bilbo snaps despide himself and Bofur chuckles.

"At least now I know you've got a temper. So, here we are. We call it Middle Earth." He says as he drops his arm from aroung Bilbo's shoulders and motions on the field of green grass around him. The green area is the size of maybe half a football field and Bilbo understands exactly why Bofur called it what he did. The space is completely surrounded by buildings, it is literally in the middle of this little planet called 'Prison'. Between the field itself and the buildings there is a fence, he can see a couple of guards walking rounds.

The main building separates them completely from the outside world, except for one corner where two flanks of the prison don't meet, there is an open space that is occupied by what seems to be a tool shed of some sort. On every corner of the building there is a guard tower and Bilbo can see tiny people moving there, watching them. In the distance, far over the main building on the nothern side he can see two more guard towers. He hadn't noticed them last night, but that's understandable, he says to himself, since he had been brought in through the gates that are facing east.

"Hey, Bofur, what are those for?" Bilbo's curiosity gets the better of him, because those towers don't seem to be necessary, they look somehow out of place.

"What?" The other man follows his gaze. "Ah, those are the old guard towers, from back when this building here didn't exist. They built it and left those two towers there just in case. You see, they are actually located right along the outer wall and there is a forest no far from the wall, so they come in pretty handy too survey the tree line."

"Aha." Bilbo says, wondering what this place could have looked like maybe a hundred years ago. He had always been fond of history, apparently even when said history involved the prison he now had to live in.

In the meantime, Bofur had leaned in closer to him and whispers in his ear. "There are rumors that they are empty now. That the guard you see holding a rifle is just a dummy." He says conspiratively and winks. "In case you ever decide to get out for a breath of fresh air."

Bilbo snorts at that. "Yeah, like I would be crazy enough to actually try and break out. I'd rather get out legally, thank you very much."

"Well suit yourself!" His cellmate says dramatically. "It's just a rumor anyways. There's nobody in here who remembers the actual rebuilding of this place. But there's one who knows hell of a lot on the history of this place."

"Who's that?" Bilbo's curiosity peaks.

"It's him right there." Bofur points to a man sitting alone on a bench in the far left corner of the field. They are alredy somewhere in the middle of the yard, so Bilbo can make him out easily. The man looks old, he has grey hair and a short beard. He just sits there in the usual prison clothing and seems to be smoking a pipe.

"Hmm, didn't know that pipes are allowed in here." He says absent-mindedly to himself, but Bofur still answers.

"They're not. Not anymore anyway. But Gandalf is probably the oldest inmate in here, he has been here since forever, so he has a special set of rules. And also there're rumors that he and Saruman are playing poker on Thursday nights, but I'm not sure if my sources are reliable on that one."

"Saruman?"

"The warden, dumbass." Bilbo pouts at the name and Bofur chuckles. "Seriously, you gotta at least learn your authorities."

"I met Beorn last night."

"Yeah, he's a decent guy, won't give you a hard time unless you deserve it. That's a rare quality here, believe me. It's a shame there's only one of him."

"That so?" Bilbo asks shakily and feels that his throat is suddenly dry.

"Mhm." His roommate answers thoughtfully. "Yeah, we have three Chief Officers here. You met Beorn, he's one of them. As I said, decent guy. Then there's Elrond. He's okay, honest, I guess, but sometimes gets his head stuck up his ass and plays favorites."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, we'll get to that. We have the whole morning to ourselves." Bofur says and stretches lazily. They have sat down on a bench by the western wall of the fence, not far away from Gandalf. So Bilbo is free to observe the old man while Bofur is filling him in on the details.

"So, you could say that he is okay, too. But then there's the third one, and he's as dumb as they come. Plus, a complete asshole. We call him The Goblin, no one really remembers his name. I think it was Gary or something, but the point is – even the guards call him Goblin. Great Goblin in case he is being extremely annoying."

Bilbo is sure he doesn't like the sound of that. "Aha, so they are under Saruman?"

"Well, I don't know that, lad, I haven't been over there holding a candle." Bofur winks mischieviously at Bilbo, who snorts out a laugh.

"I mean power-wise."

"Yes, that's right."

"And then what?"

"Ah, then come the guards. The simple folk. Mostly they are okay, but won't pass up an opportunity to kick your ass, so don't get too comfy."

"Yeah, thanks for the heads up. But is there anyone that I should maybe try to avoid meeting with?"

"Oh, that would be the Trolls."

"The who?"

"Trolls. Or that's what we call 'em. There's thee of them. The point is, they're ugly as shit and based on that – could possibly be brothers. They're also dumb as door knobs. Goblin is the one they most listen to, so there's your reason to avoid them."

"Aha, got it."

"Then there's Elrond's pet boy, Lindir. He seems friendly enough, but runs to Elrond with every little gossip, so I wouldn't talk too much around him. And then there's Bard, he's Beorn's right hand man, I suppose. Good guy, but follows the rules to a point. He won't punish you for no reason, but he also won't give you a break if you deserve it. And as for the other guards - you will meet and learn their names on your own, no point of me telling you without being able to match name to a face."

"Is that all?" Bilbo asks, feeling that his head is already too full of new information. He feels grateful, though, that his cellmate is so willing to help him through.

"Oh, that's cute. Don't you wanna know the bastards you're gonna live with?" The man says as he motions to the many faces moving around them. Up until now Bilbo has been avoiding looking at anyone directly.

"Oh, God..." Bilbo mutters to himself.

"I'll be quick, just some trivia, that's all." Bofur says and turns his head as if searching the crowd for someone.

"Ah, yes, there he is, of course."

"Who?"

"Him." Bofur answers and points to a spot by the opposite side of the fence where on the bleachers Bilbo sees a young man, sprawled leisurely as though he is here on his free will and actually owns the place. He has shoulder long platinum blond hair that seems incredibly soft and light even from a distance. He is wearing sunglasses, another item that should be prohibited, so Bilbo guesses that he also has a special position here. The man has the same navy pants and grey sweater as the rest of them, but on him the sweater looks as though it's made from silver. Bilbo finds it difficult to draw his eyes away from the sight, the man is breathtaking.

"Look at him, sprawled out there like a carp on the grill." Bofur mutters through clenched teeth and for the first time since he's met the man, Bilbo hears actual malice in his voice.

"Who is that?"

"Thranduil. The biggest posh ass you will find anywhere. Has probably the longest list of offences, he's charged with absolutely everything." Bilbo simply nods along, still not being able to look away from the man who is now telling something to another inmate next to him; he is gesturing with his hands as he tells his story and Bilbo feels completely mesmerized by those graceful movements.

"Ever heard of the Greenleaves?" Bofur asks sharply and Bilbo is forced to look at him.

"Is there anyone who hasn't?" He remembers countless times he has heard of the infamous Greenleaf family, he has heard of their illegal businesses, kidnappings, the occasional murder being connected to them. Bilbo also recalls reading something about their leader being finally arrested, but can't remember for sure.

"Is he one of them?" He asks, still not wanting to believe that someone with the man's looks could be into horrible illegal things. Beautiful things cannot be cruel. Beautiful men should not be gangsters.

"Oh, he's one of them allright. That's their leader. Papa Mobster, so to speak." He points an accusing finger in the man's direction.

A forgotten picture becomes clear in Bilbo's head, he remembers both reading about the arrest and seeing the photograph. He could swear that the picture didn't do Thranduil any justice. There he looked older, greyer and without his current carelessness.

"Remember what I said about Elrond picking favorites?"

Bilbo answers with a nod.

"Well, you see, old Elrond is more than happy to close his eyes whenever Thranduil screws up. Not always, not the big stuff, but even the blind would see it." He then lets out a heavy sigh. "But I guess with his money you don't really need to worry about stuff like prison rules, right?"

Bilbo gives him another nod of agreement, thinking of how much it had cost Lobelia to set him up. She wasn't swimming in money, but sure could afford to pay people off, apparently.

"Moving on?" Bofur says, some of his excitement back in his voice.

"Moving on." Bilbo tries to reply with the same level of enthusiasm.

"Okay, so who else is worth mentioning?" The man says thoughtfully as he scans the crowd.

"Ah, there, look over there!" He points to a spot that appears to be an outdoor gym. Men are lifting weights, doing push-ups and many other things that Bilbo can't even name since he has never seen the inside of a gym before.

"See the big bald guy?"

"The one that has tattoos on his head?"

"Yep, that's Dwalin. One tough bastard. Could probably crack rocks with his skull."

"Or someone else's skull." Bilbo mutters absent-mindedly as a shiver runs down his spine. This Dwalin looks exactly like a guy Bilbo wouldn't want to drop the soap in front of.

"He's not that bad. Sure, two hundred pounds of muscle and wide as a buldoser, but he's actually fine once you stop thinking he's gonna smash you."

"Yeah, I doubt that somehow." Bilbo shakes his head. "What he's in for, anyway?"

"Nosy, aren't we?" Bofur asks mockingly. "Drunken fighting. Although I don't believe he was drunk; if he was, there would be some dead people. But there weren't, so.." He shrugs."Started a riot of some sorts. Nasty business. See the guy next to him?"

Bilbo nods as he shifts his gaze to a man who looks to be a little shorter that Dwalin, but just as imposing. He's got a short beard and red hair that is made into a ponytail. A quick thought runs through Bilbo's mind that whoever calls this guy 'ginger' would die slow and painful death.

"That's Gloin. He was in the fight, too. Apparently those two were the ones who'd done most damage." His roommate laughs quietly to himself and Bilbo doesn'tdoubt that statement. "Wanna know who's to blame for said riot?"

"Sure." Bilbo says, feeling weirdly excited. He shouldn't be this happy right now.

Bofur in the meantime scans the crowd once again and points once he's found what he's looking for. "See that little guy over there on that bench?" He points to a bench that is not far from the bleachers. Bilbo looks, but sees only one guy, and he hardly seems riot-starting material since he looks small and thin, and over all not impressive on a prison scale.

"The one who's knitting?"

"Him, yes. That's Ori."

"Not what I expected."

"Right?" Bofur bursts out laughing. "The guy was simply protesting against skinning baby seals or whatever when all hell broke loose. Dwalin and Gloin then got caugth up in the shit."

"And how come he's still alive if he started it?" Bilbo has to wonder. "Dwalin doesn't look like the forgiving type."

"Oh, you've got it all wrong. Dwalin actually has treatened to make fingerpaint out of anyone who touches Ori. Even the guards were scared of him, so they made them cellmates."

"Really?"

"Mhm. Ori isn't exactly the type of guy to do well in prison, if you know what I mean." Bofur says seriously.

"Yeah.." Bilbo says and wonders what are the chances that he himself is going to do well.

"Anyhow, he's out in two weeks, lucky bastard." He says, envious of the man. "D'ya know what else is interesting?"

"Yes." Bilbo answers without hesitation. Bofur has proven to be one hell of a storyteller.

"Gloin's got a brother."

"Yes?"

"He's here, too."

"Oh, that's interesting!"

"Sit tight, you haven't heard half of it." Bofur says excitedly. "So, you see, Oin is..." He starts, but never finishes as Bilbo feels something shift in the air. It seems as though the whole yard is gone quiet and everyone is looking into the same direction, including Bofur. Bilbo follows his gaze.

And finds himself looking towards the gate they came through into the yard. Now there are guards unlocking the door and letting what seems to be three people in. Two of them are walking in front of the third one. They both look solidly built, not as stocky as Dwalin or Gloin, but still very impressive. One of them is slightly shorter than the other, he has short golden hair and a few days worth of stubble. The guy next to him is a tad taller and leaner, his hair is longer and curlier. The man has not so much a beard as a 5 o'clock shadow and he looks like he couldn't be more than twenty years old.

Those two look completely different, yet there is something that makes them look alike. Bilbo is about to ask Bofur who they are, but his cellmate manages to speak first.

"Looks like he's finally out of solitary." He mutters as he begins to drag Bilbo over to the benches where Gandalf was sitting earlier. Bilbo yelps and is about to ask what's going on, but they are there before he manages to.

"Here, I'll leave ya with Gandalf here, okay?" Bofur looks at the old man as he speaks. Bilbo sees him nod absently.

"I.. But.. Where are you going?"

"Gotta go say hello to my royals." His cellmate says with a wink before rushing away.

Bilbo looks back to where the two young men are standing. Now that they have stopped he can see the third one that had been walking behind them.

He is taller and build more solidly than both of them, and Bilbo has to admit thatt he man rocks his prison uniform just as good as Thranduil does. But where Thranduil seems calm and serene, this man seems eager and on edge. His navy blue prison slacks can easily be seen as leather pants, all he needs is a leather jacket and some sunglasses. The man's hair is long, wavy and Bilbo thinks he can see a speck of grey here and there. His beard is longer than both of the younger one's, but it looks smooth and nicely groomed. He is obviously older than the two that he walked in with, but the resembelance is uncanny.

"Who is that?" Bilbo asks no one in particular and is surprised upon hearing a response.

"That would be Thorin Oakenshield."

Bilbo looks at the grey-haired man beside him and sees that he is looking in the same direction.

"Apparently he is out of solitary confinement." Gandalf continues. Bilbo looks back at the man who is named Thorin and sees that Bofur is there, along with Dwalin, Gloin, Ori and a bunch of other people he doesn't know. He absently notices that Thranduil is still on the bleachers, only now instead of lying there he is standing up, looking in the direction of the gate with apparent distaste.

Bilbo keeps looking at the small group, but has to look away when he thinks that he meets an icy blue gaze. He doesn't dare to look back again.

Instead he turns to the man next to him, the one who has turned his attention back to his pipe.

"I'm sorry for not introducing myself earlier. My name is.."

"Bilbo Baggins, yes, dear, I know." Gandalf looks at him with a small smile. When he sees question in his eyes, he explains. "The word gets out when some fresh meat is about to arrive." He adds with a wink. Bilbo has no idea what to make of it so he stays quiet.

"It's nice to see Bofur finally get a new cellmate. Hopefully it will end better this time." Tha old man says mysteriously.

"I.. umm.." Bilbo stumbles over his words when he sees Thranduil gracefully apporaching men at the gates, looking at one in particular. "Did something happen to him?" He forces his gaze back to Gandalf, deciding that Bofur's cellmates fate concerns him a little more than some unresolved issues between other inmates.

"Yes, died in his sleep, poor bugger."

"Oh." Bilbo gulps just when he hears voices from the other side of the field and looks back there.