Chapter Two

Bilbo awoke to the smell of mold and water trickling in from some unknown place. He hurt all over and frowned uncertain of as to how he had gotten there. He sat up slowly; he realized that something was wrong with his eyesight, as he seemed to be looking down at everything. He then realized that the legs he was looking down at weren't his own, weren't the ones he had been used to looking at for years, but rather seemed to belong to another. He slowly moved one leg and then the other, staring at the appendages in confusion.

He then slowly stood, the floor seeming much farther away then it used to. He walked slowly over to the cell door and banged on the bars. "Let me out!" Bilbo cried and felt shocked at the sound of his own voice. It was so much stronger than it had been and the words he spoke were so much gruffer then those that he was accustomed to. "Let me out!" Bilbo cried again and a dwarf in a guard's uniform came over to the bars.

"Are you aware of the charges of which you are accused?" The guard demanded. "You won't ever be seeing sunshine again, after killing one of the company that saved Erebor."

"Then let me talk to someone in the Company, please!" Bilbo begged and the guard stared at him.

"Why would they bother with someone like you, someone who has no honor and would slay a defenseless creature?" The guard demanded.

"At least tell me how the princes and the king are."

"Why so you can attempt to assassinate them once more? It is a wonder they were unscathed from your attack." The guard said and Bilbo stared at him in shock, apparently everyone thought that he had attacked Thorin and Fili and Kili. That he would hurt his friends.

"I would never harm them!" Bilbo said angrily. "You hear me, never!"

"So you claim, but anyone accused of what you have been would say the same." The guard said.

"Please just let me see them for a moment, let me explain."

"You have no right to make demands of me prisoner." The guard replied, before moving away from the cell door. Bilbo buried his head in his hands and began to cry. He hated dark cold places and apparently he would be here for a very long time indeed. It was one thing to die for his friends, but quite another to be trapped in a small cell with no hope of escape.

He sobbed until he fell into a light doze, which was disrupted by the sound of footsteps coming down the stone corridor. His head jerked up and he stared wide-eyed at the guard who left a bowl of stew outside the cell and backed away from the cell once more, before Bilbo had even woken. "There is a small comb among the bowl of soup, see that you're presentable, as you will be judged soon and sentenced accordingly." The dwarf said and Bilbo went over to the food and ate it quickly, it was practically impossible to keep it out of his beard. He then reached for the hair comb and realizing that his hair felt horrible went over to a sink. He rinsed his hair in the sink before starting to pull at the tangles. He let out a scream as he was hit with a pain so great he saw stars. It took him a moment to realize that the source of his pain had come from pulling harshly at his hair. He continued to brush it out slowly, yelping occasionally as he hit tangles that didn't respond easily to his coaxing.

Finally he had finished brushing out his hair and continued to work on his beard. He brushed it gently, but if possible it hurt worse then brushing out his hair had. He wondered briefly if brushing hair was some form of torture for dwarves. He ran his fingers through his hair and beard and was surprised by the feeling of comfort it brought. He continued to stroke his fingers through his hair and beard, feeling slightly better. It took a while for the guard to come back and Bilbo stared at him in slight confusion for a moment. "Well come on then, put your arms through the cell, one at a time." Bilbo did as the dwarf asked and then walked through the cell and winced slightly as the man grabbed his wrists none too gently and escorted him down the tunnel.

They moved from the stone dungeon and several people stared at Bilbo as he walked by, until Bilbo misjudged his footing and stumbled over a crack in the stone sprawling face down and banging his head hard against the concrete. He came to in some sort of audience hall and stared at Thorin in delight, before he considered where he was, he ran up to Thorin and hugged him. "You're alright, thank the Valar, you are alright, it was all worth it." Bilbo said and realized suddenly that Thorin had stiffened and that the guard was running up to Bilbo, other guards following him.

"What reason had you for killing Bilbo Baggins?" Thorin asked and the cold look he gave Bilbo hurt for a moment, before Bilbo was pulled into his gaze. Suddenly and without warning his vision narrowed until all he could see was Thorin's face, how his eyes glimmered like the most beautiful of gems. He moved towards them and frowned when they jumped up and came back down, his world was those eyes, those eyes that seemed to look into his very soul. Then he was moving towards them, as quickly as his feet could carry him. He tripped and nearly fell, but righted himself, his bound ankle hurting, but that didn't matter, nothing mattered but those eyes. Those wonderful, wonderful eyes that were just one facet of his most precious gem.

Then arms were around him, as their foreheads touched and Bilbo was able to stare fully into the eyes that had become his world. He felt nothing but a growing sense of hunger, of need, as there was a sudden stabbing pain in the back of his neck, gone just as soon as it came. He looked into those eyes and opened his mouth, gasping as another's plundered his mouth. He moaned arching his back and his hands gripped tightly around something, but he didn't know what it was, all he felt was the need and the heat and the hunger.

He darted his tongue forward licking at the tongue and got a chuckle in response, as hands came down to his ass and squeezed. He moaned louder this time and pushed himself against the one that was his world, pressing hardness to hardness.

"UNCLE, STOP!" A voice said from far away, but Bilbo paid it no mind and neither it seemed did his one, all that mattered in the moment was his one and seeing to his pleasure. All Bilbo wanted was to make the other to cry out in pleasure, to make him happy, that was all that mattered, that his one was happy. Then someone tried to pull him away from his one, he'd never struck anyone in his life before, but he elbowed whoever held him, twisting and crying, knowing that this was wrong, so wrong. They were meant to be together, how could anyone separate them?

His one was shouting, fighting the ones that held him, trying to get to Bilbo, trying to free himself. Bilbo felt rage fill him then, more anger then he'd ever felt before, it burned brighter then all that came before it. Bilbo would do whatever was necessary to get back to his one, to ensure that he was all right and happy. More then that he needed his one, like he had never needed anyone or anything in his life. He roared throwing both arms back and elbowing the dwarves that held him. He was strong, strong with the will to make it to his one, to ensure that those that threatened them would not dare to do so. He roared again this time barreling towards his one, oblivious to all around him, but the need, the need to take, the need to claim and be claimed.

He found that those that held his one let go of him and Bilbo growled, as they stepped backward, the room quickly clearing of everyone inside. Once they were alone and Bilbo knew it was safe he ran to his one and kissed him hard on the mouth, giving as freely as was taken. After that they claimed one another, lost to the bond that tied them together. Afterward Bilbo snuggled against his one, putting his head on the other's shoulder, closed his eyes and fell into sleep.