Kili was led to his cell by the red-haired elf who rescued him from the spiders. She was a couple inches taller than him, she was short for an elf, he, tall for a dwarf. As she shut the door behind him, he noticed that fili and ori, who were nearby were being patted down for weapons. Kili was amused at the expression of surprise on the face of the elf who was searching Fili, finding more weapons than he expected. Fili always had a talent for concealment, ever since they were little. Kili looked at his elf. "Aren't you going to search me? There could be anything hidden in my trousers." He didn't mean to say it, but as usual with everything addressed to a female, it came out anyway. She grinned. "Or nothing." He hid his smirk as she walked away. He liked her.
Gloin was handles roughly by the blonde elf, and thrust into a prison unceremoniously. The elf searched him for weapons, finding a few knives, a hatchet and his locket. The elf opened the locket, mockingly. "What is this creature?" he asked, pointing at Gloin's beloved wife, dressed in her finest robes and her lovely golden beard trimmed, framing her fine features. "That's my wife!" Gloin shouted, outraged. "And this troll?" pointing to a young dwarf, already growing his dark red beard, a fact that Gloin was so proud of. "That's me son, Gimli!" Gloin retorted. Such ill manners, he remarked to himself. The elf laughed and handed the locket back to Gloin. He smirked and walked away, his gait disgustingly fluid. Gloin glared after him for a moment, and then gently tucked the treasure back into his tunic, next to his breast.
Bilbo found his way to the dungeons and hid as he watched the dwarves being locked away. They were soon thereafter given food, roast meats and breads that made Bilbo's mouth water. At least the elves were hospitable, even giving meat, a dish that they themselves did not partake, to their prisoners. Though the dwarves grumbled that it was not enough, etc. Bilbo knew that they were somewhat grateful. He must find the kitchens later, Bilbo told himself. He then noticed Thorin was not among them. He overheard the blonde elf speaking to another. "Where is the leader of the filth Legolas?" The blonde one, apparently called Legolas replied, "Thorin Oakenshield has been taken to my father, as he commanded. He is being questioned for what purpose brought him here." Though he didn't know elvish very well, Bilbo understood every word. He was puzzled. Were they using the common tongue? Why would they, in their realm? Then he remembered how he could hear the spiders speaking after he had put the ring on in the forest. Perhaps the ring could do more than merely turn one invisible. The thought excited and terrified him. What else could it do?
Bilbo made it to the throne room after a few hours. The palace was a series of intricate tunnels carved into the earth. He had been puzzled at first, wondering why elves would live underground. He had thought that only Dwarves did so. Then he thought that perhaps, even though they were different in so many aspects, they were similar also. They had a love of song, food, drink. Though of course, the dwarves were more passionate and crude and the elves were more elegant and learned. They both were ridiculously stubborn, Bilbo thought to himself, laughing. And these elves even lived underground! It was fascinating how such traits, even the similarities, pushed the two races apart. Perhaps they could be friends, allies in another time.
The first thing Bilbo noticed when he arrived in the throne room was a star. It danced on the hand of an elf. As Bilbo drew his gaze from the star to the rest of the elf, he realized how very tall he was. Thin, lithe, a sheet of silver blonde hair hung from his widow's peak brow to his back, broken only by a magnificent crown of thin branches curled above his delicate pointed ears. Though Bilbo had never been attracted to a male of any kind, he had to admit that Thranduil, King of the Woodland Realm, was beautiful. Thorin stood, a grimy figure, dwarfed by this elven giant, though Thorin was the tallest of the company at nearly 5 foot tall. Thorin was still cursing himself for allowing his company to be placed in such a state. Captured by elves, of all things. It was disgraceful, and Thorin could blame no one but himself. How would they ever get to Erebor in time? Thranduil addressed him. "Thorin Oakenshield. For what cause have you to come into my wood and attack my elves? I assume you are trying to regain your land." Thorin was angered. "Attack your elves? We did no such thing!" "But didn't you?" Thranduil responded in his dark silken voice. It ws a cold voice, bereft of feeling. "Two nights ago, as they were feasting?" Thorin remembered. "We were starving. We lost our supplies. We meant no harm. We only sought aid!" Thranduil nodded, his eyes closed. "Your kin are being fed now. I have no quarrel with you, dwarf. I only offer you my help in reclaiming your homeland." Thorin was puzzled. Had he heard correctly? Thranduil continued. "I would help you reclaim what you believe will bestow upon you the right to rule. The Arkenstone. And I will do it. On one condition. As you may have remembered, I have a fondness for white gems." Thorin was angered. He was tempted by this offer. Thranduil would let his company and him free, aid him, but enslave him to his bidding forever. "No." Thranduil's mood quickly changed from calm to furious. "So be it." He then gestured for Thorin to be taken to the dungeon.
Bilbo shook his head, exasperated. How could Thorin be so stubborn? The responsibility of escape now rested on the hobbit's shoulders.
"What is your name?" Kili asked the red haired dwarf when he spotted her lurking nearby. "Why should I tell you?" She replied. Kili was taken aback. He had thought perhaps she could be befriended. She was curious- why else would she have returned? She saw the look on his face and laughed. Kili was relieved. "Give me your name, dwarf, and I'll tell you mine." Kili smiled. "Kili, son of Dis." She nodded. "My name is Tauriel." "Tauriel." Kili tested out the name. It was a fine name for an elf.
Legolas Greenleaf stood nearby listening to the conversation. He never could understand Tauriel. She made her way up the steps and saw him immediately. "Tauriel? A dwarf?" She was defensive. "He's tall. For a dwarf. And not ugly." Legolas raised his eyebrows at her. She looked down and walked on, ignoring him.
Bilbo made his way to the kitchens, sneaking a roll of finely baked elvish bread. It was, as he had expected, delicious. It tasted different from the food in Rivendell, but a good kind of different. There was a musky flavor to it. Walnut? He dismissed his curiousity and continued to filch what he could. He found the wine cellar not too far from the kitchens. He knew elvish wine to be very strong. It took a lot of regular ale to make an elf drunk, but only a little elvish wine. And apparently this brew was fine because there were several elves slumped upon the testing table, elegant glasses grasped loosely in their hands. Bilbo laughed. He noticed that the empty barrels were stacked on a wooden plank, segmented as a cellar door would be in the floor. He stuck around, to see more workers arrive and pull a lever, which tilted the door, allowing the barrels to roll out of sight. Bilbo heard a splash. The barrels were recycled- dropped downriver for reuse. He heard talk amongst the elves of a feast coming up, and figured that this could be promising for their escape.