Author's Note: And here is the second half of the chapter that ran away with me. Bella and Thorin are private people, I swear. They gave me such a headache getting this written. Muses – can't live with them, can't write without them.

Bella & Thorin

Two days passed in fruitless searching.

Bella's heart hammered in her chest as she crept down the stone steps to the deepest level of Thranduil's halls. A guard had come up from this direction not long ago with a plate of half-eaten food, sparking a new hope. Please let it be Thorin, she thought. Please let it be him. The others were growing restless with no word and the boys had started showing signs of suppressed panic. If only she could find him! But the cells stopped two levels ago and since then she had only seen blank walls. Where had the Elf come from?

Another step brought a single cell into view and her breath lodged in her throat.

There sat the Dwarf she had sought. He sat on the floor against the rear wall of the cell, his head hanging down "Thorin!" she gasped out in relief when she reached the entrance.

The Dwarf king's head shot up and he stared towards the bars, eyes wide with surprise. They began to narrow, but flew open once more when she slid off the ring. "Bella…" He shook his head. "How-?" His voice cut off as a shadow darkened his eyes. "You gave me your word-."

"Not to use it unless necessary," she interrupted, voice growing huffy. "I consider trying to sneak around a realm filled with Elves to find a group of particularly stubborn and overprotective Dwarves to define 'necessary' in this case." She shook her head, dismissing any further discussion of the topic. "I have had a frightful time trying to find you! Are you well?"

"I would do better if that thing were in the gullet of Smaug himself," Thorin muttered. A sigh slipped through his lips as her chin lifted. "Well enough," he answered her. "For being behind bars." The flat of his palm slapped against the metal door. His head came up and he pinned her with a look. "Fíli? Kíli? The others? There were giant spiders-."

"Oh, don't even discuss those horrible creatures!" A shiver ran through her. "Your nephews are worried about you and very irritated about being in separate sections," Bella continued, banishing Mirkwood's denizens to the depth of her mind. She did not even want to consider what kind of nightmares she would have when she managed to find a secure enough place to rest. "The others seem well enough, though half of them fuss about eating the food they've been given and Dwalin is going to do himself harm if he keeps knocking about the cell door as he has been."

A crooked grin lifted Thorin's lips and the shadow in his face lifted as she told him of his kin. "That sounds like him." Then his gaze flickered and narrowed as he examined her. "You're tired," he noted.

She rolled her eyes at the blunt statement. "I would like to see you try and find your way through maze of tunnels, trying not to get caught by Elves with their ability to hear a feather drop." Her nose wrinkled as she fought a yawn. "And do all of that with little food and no sleep."

"Bella-."

"I'm sorry," she fought another yawn, "but it's true. And don't tell me I should find a place to sleep. Dori's already done that. He and Ori are plotting how to squirrel away some of their food each meal so I don't have to steal much from the kitchens."

"You must get some rest," he insisted. She frowned at him and he gave a single shake of his head. "Here," he pointed to the space beside the bars of his cell. "The guards do not come often and I will wake you if I hear them."

"But they walk so quietly…" Bella's voice trailed off. She wanted to rest. Her body yearned to curl up in the shadowy corner and let Thorin worry about keeping guard, but she bit her lip, worried at the same time. Her friends depended on her to get them out. She could not do that if she were caught. One wrong turn down here would see them trapped for good.

"They might walk as soft as any cat," Thorin scoffed, "but this is good, solid stone. No Elf could walk so silent on stone that one of Durin's line could not hear them. I will know if they approach." He nodded to the corner again. "Rest."

She gave up arguing and curled into the rock. Her eyes blinked up at Thorin and he sat down against the bars so she could see him without craning her neck. "Why do you suppose he has so many cells?" she murmured, already feeling the dragging heaviness of sleep pulling at her mind. Spending so much time in the odd world of the ring tired her. No matter how useful the invisibility might be, she began to hate the small bauble. The gold burned with fire one moment and then burned again with ice. It disturbed her.

"The better to separate people," he grimaced, interrupting her thoughts. "Isolation and time can break even the strongest of wills."

Bella saw the small tremor of his fingers as his voice grew tight. "Good thing you're not isolated then, isn't it?" Her smile might be sleepy, but she managed to slip her fingers through the bars. "And you won't break. I will be here every day to make sure of it."

"No, I shall not break," Thorin agreed, capturing her fingers with his. Though firm, his grip remained light and some of her sleepiness drained away as his eyes focused on her face. His face might have been carved from granite, but warmth flooded those blue eyes and she wanted to duck her head as she felt color rising in her cheeks. And yet she could not turn away. Something else moved within that warmth, a spark of something deeper, something she dared not name.

Her fingers trembled.

One corner of his mouth lifted with a hint of satisfaction and she could only wonder at what he might have seen reflected in her face. He did not give her a hint however, saying only, "You should sleep, Bella." She began to nod, but her breath caught as he lifted her hand to his mouth. He touched his lips to the back of her fingers, the lightest of touches, before releasing her hand. Her fingers curled in, as if to capture that elusive touch. "Sleep, my loyal burglar," he repeated, not moving from his spot. "I have the watch."

Days passed and Bella could see her friends growing more despondent, more desperate. They had so little time. She did her best to try and give them hope as she continued her search for a way out. Every gate, every potential way out thus far seemed too heavily guarded for a Company of Dwarves to try sneaking out.

The one bright spot – for her anyway – continued to be the evenings…at least she thought they might be evenings. How did the Elves live in this place? A little sunlight would be nice. Bella gave herself a good shake. Her time with the majority of the Company passed in hurried snatches as they kept careful watch for guard patrols, though Dori insisted she share some of the food the Elves brought to his and Ori's cell. He fussed over her, over her hollowing cheeks, and watched like a hawk to make sure she ate.

"Not that I don't trust you, Bella dear," he assured her, "but you do have a tendency to focus on helping us and forgetting to take care of yourself."

"Just let him fuss," Ori whispered. "It's not worth the argument."

Her description of it had Nori rolling his eyes. "Always the mother hen," he muttered. Though Bella noted he too kept trying to feed her bits of food he saved from his own meals.

The rest of the day she spent searching through Thranduil's realm, always watching for a way out, but the evenings… Every evening she crept down to Thorin's cell and told him of her explorations or of the Company. He soaked in the news, needing the contact as much as he needed the information. The nights were long though, and neither felt comfortable in a deep sleep – not when the fear of discovery lurked at the edge of their minds. They would doze, but no more – and so they began to share stories, stories of their childhood and some legends of their people. Bella told Thorin of the loss of her brother and of the Wandering Days while he described the founding of Erebor and shared his concern about the gold-sickness. He grew too somber for her taste and she reminded him of her promise to smack him with something should it prove necessary. That drew a true smile to his face as he teased her in return, implying he would have to see about hiring her to deflate royal egos as necessary.

"But I thought that was Balin's job," she riposted, a mischievous note in her voice. "He certainly mutters quite a bit about a certain royal's sense of diplomacy."

"Or lack thereof?" he chuckled before shaking his head. "No, my burglar. Balin may be my closest advisor, but the one who kept me in check was my sister…and I think she would be happy to hand off the task."

"Dís?" Bella ventured, wanting to make sure she had the name correct. He nodded and she offered him a sympathetic smile. "The boys have been telling me about her. I can't decide if I'm more intrigued or nervous about their plan to introduce us."

"She'll adore you," Thorin predicted. "You two are much alike, though you are politer about letting your displeasure be known." Then he paused and a hint of amused caution entered his tone. "Then again, perhaps I should rethink any plan of the two of you ever meeting…though that might prove impossible with both of you in the same mountain."

"Why?" she demanded, ignoring the skip of her heart as he spoke in such a casual, offhand way of her still being in his mountain kingdom when his sister arrived….not to mention the implication that he wanted her to be there.

"Were you and my sister to become friends, I have little doubt you could take over my kingdom within a mere turn of the seasons," he informed her, a mock serious expression on his face. "I should like my reign to last a bit longer than that."

"And who says either of us want your throne, O King?" Bella giggled. "Being King sounds like a great deal of unpleasant work to me, headaches and all. Perhaps we shall let you worry with the paperwork."

"Balin will be most pleased with you – jealous too, no doubt." She tilted her head in curiosity and he lifted a teasing brow. "You have managed to come up with a reason for me to enjoy the prospect of paperwork. He never did manage that."

More giggles escaped her, but she gave an inward cheer as the last of the shadows vanished from his eyes for a time. So their evenings passed, with each of them opening a little more to the other as the time slipped by. Despite the worry and the fear over what the future held, Bella would not have given up those private moments for any treasure, not even for the whole of Smaug's hoard. She could feel a bond growing between them, a connection unlike any she could remember sharing with another person. The trust built between them over their journey became overshadowed by a blossoming friendship. Something warmer stirred beneath that for Bella at least, but she kept it squashed as best she could. After all, what was she but a mere Hobbit of the Shire? A gentlehobbit sure enough, but nothing compared to a king of the Dwarves.

But did his voice not hold a new warmth? Was there not a new spark in his eyes when he met her gaze?

Foolishness, Bella Baggins! You are a grown Hobbit. Act your age. You have no business fluttering over him like a tween! Keep your head on straight and be happy with his friendship.

And yet…each night…Thorin held her hand.

The strange internal argument went round and round in her head and her heart as she continued to play an odd game of hide and seek with the Elves. Could it be called that if the Elves don't know they should be seeking? Bella suppressed a sniff of disdain, though she could not decide who her target should be. Should she wonder at the Elves who overlooked the watchful contentment of the Company as some kind of acceptance? Or perhaps she should wonder at herself for considering her current predicament as some kind of child's game?

Bella gave herself a good shake. This place put her off-balance. She hated to think of what it was doing to her friends. Her visits helped – they all assured her of that. Having knowledge of each other and being able to communicate made the difference. Without her, most of them would have been alone and isolated. The thought of it made her heart clench and kept her cautious. She would not risk leaving them in such a state.

Why? Why do this?

She put the question to Thorin and he gave a sarcastic huff of laughter. "Someone who offers no aid to any save his own," he replied. "He gave no help on the day of Smaug's attack and has done nothing but lock himself away in this place ever since."

"He did not wish to risk his people against the dragon?" she offered.

"I would have understood that," the Dwarf king replied. "My grandfather…" Here he paused to consider. "Thror would have been furious, angry and bitter no doubt."

"But you understood?"

"Not wanting to face the dragon? Yes." Then anger swept aside the moment of empathy. "But I will never understand nor forgive him offering no aid to our sick or our wounded…or our children."

"Would that you had come to the Shire," Bella commented, turning away from the topic of the Elves. It would do not good to get Thorin angry and riled with no one but herself on which to focus that anger. "We would have aided you…especially the children, but the Shire would not turn away those in need." Her lips pursed. "Not most of us anyway."

"I know." His expression grew warmer. "If one Hobbit would not shut her door on thirteen Dwarves, then I cannot doubt that your people would have helped mine." Memories swam in his gaze for a moment before he blinked and refocused on her. "By the time we reached so far west, we had given up any expectation or hope of assistance from those outside our own kin. Too many had suffered – between the journey and Thror's attempt to retake Khazad-dûm…" He shook his head. "Too many and too much for too long."

Her fingers tightened on his. "But then end of your exile is within reach," she whispered. "We will make it there, Thorin. I promise."

"Yes," he agreed, "Yes, we will." That spark, more than warmth but not yet a blaze, began to glimmer in his eyes once more, causing her heart to flutter. "You have such hope inside you, Bella. It sweeps away all doubts."

She ducked her head, unable to continue meeting his gaze, as color blossomed in her cheeks. How did he manage to do this? Turn her into a flushing tween girl?

"We are in your hands, my burglar," he continued, giving no sign of noticing her reaction, though he could not have missed it. "And Bella…" Thorin paused for a long moment, his eyes steady on hers. She tilted her head in curiosity, but then he shook his own and appeared to change his mind. "We will leave without the weapons if we must. Better to be free than to be recaptured trying to get them back."

What had he meant to say?

That thought scurried round and round in her head as she continued her explorations. She had seen his face, seen the switch as bright as any daylight. He meant to say something else and changed his mind, but what had it been? She wanted to march straight up to him and demand he tell her, but…her doubts crept in. Did she truly wish to know? It might be nothing, nothing to do with her at all. She needed to focus on getting them out. Then she could wonder and worry over what thoughts passed through Thorin's mind when he looked at her.

Mahal…guide my steps.

Then, miracle of miracles, she found the wine cellar…and watched as they sent barrels tumbling into the river below to be carried off to the town of Men.

Finding the wine cellar meant she had the beginning of a plan. If she could get them down there, then she could get them out. She passed the next few days visiting Thorin every evening, the Company every morning, and skulking through the halls most of the afternoon trying to determine how to get them out of the cells and the best routes to the wine cellar from the dungeons. She needed the keys. If we get out of this, I shall talk Nori into teaching me how to pick a lock. The Keeper of the Keys – how odd for Elves to have position titles much like any Hobbit village – seemed to have a great fondness for wine. Perhaps she could use that to her advantage?

One thing she knew – her Dwarves would hate this plan.

"Barrels?" Thorin gaped at her.

"Do you want to get out of here or not?" She tossed the question back at him. "Every other gate is guarded to a fare-thee-well and I haven't found the weapons yet. Not that I think fourteen of us could fight our way out of here anyway." He looked insulted and she rolled her eyes. "Do be serious, Thorin, I know you're all capable fighters, but really! The exits are well guarded."

He grumbled at her, but did not argue. "And no sign of our weapons?"

"Not yet," she sighed. "I've been looking, but they may be on higher levels with the majority of the Elves. I haven't ventured up there."

"Good." She gave him a confused frown and he shook his head. "More Elves would increase the chances of you being discovered." Thorin's eyes softened as they rested on her face and his fingers tightened around hers. "You are our only hope, Bella, but more – I would not have you trapped in Thranduil's hands. He is not like Elrond. You must be careful."

"I shall be." Her voice shook and she cleared her throat. "I shall be." The words came out stronger, clearer on her second attempt. She fell silent as Thorin brushed his lips over the back of her fingers before releasing her to the morning.

His soft words – "Be safe." – followed her as she crept upstairs to check on the rest of the Company.

She spent that day following the Elf in charge of wine cellar around to see how the schedule seemed to go. He appeared to be in charge of several different storage rooms in addition to the wine cellar, making her wonder if the Elves here divided their responsibilities by level instead of by actual jobs. The Elf left a door open as he made another trip upstairs and Bella poked her head into the room, curious about what might be stored within. Her eyes went wide with a bolt of shocked elation.

Yavanna bless! The weapons! Her shoulders shook as she swallowed a chuckle. The Green Lady was not fond of weapons, so maybe that should be Mahal bless?

Either or both, she decided as a bright grin curved her lips. Whichever wanted the credit could have it. She could see Orcrist, Grasper, Keeper, and all of the other weapons. Her Company would be thrilled! The Elf reappeared in the hallway and she pulled away. Crouching in a corner she began to rearrange the plan in her mind. If she could bring the Dwarves this direction, then they could take the weapons with them in the barrels. The Green Lady knew Thorin and Dwalin at the very least would be most unhappy about leaving their weapons behind. Now all she had to do was figure out a way to get them from behind locked bars. She took a deep breath. One day, one task at a time. At least now she had hope – and hope could carry her through anything.

Almost anything? The thought came back to her days later as she fought for patience.

Getting the Dwarves free had been easy, thanks to the celebration going on, but getting them into the barrels?

Yavanna preserve me from the stiff necks of Dwarves!