Bell listened to Thorin pacing his cell, his heavy footsteps so constant and steady they were nearly hypnotizing. Since the moment Bilbo had appeared, Thorin hardly stopped moving, save to sleep. In the moments they were able to talk, he speculated on how Bilbo might be able to break them all free. The hobbit had been back to speak to them several times, and he reported that not only were they locked in cells, but the doors of the Elf king's hall were magic, and could not be opened.
Thorin had tried to talk Bilbo through picking a lock, but that attempt had failed, whether through Bilbo's inability to follow the directions or simply that Elven locks differed from Dwarven ones, Bell didn't know, and she didn't suppose it mattered. The only advantage she could see to being freed from her cell was the chance to actually see another person again.
To see Thorin, if she were honest with herself. It astonished her how quickly she'd come to depend on knowing he was nearby. Remembering how close she'd come to despair, when she thought she was alone in this place, she didn't like to contemplate what sort of a state she'd be in if not for him. The voice in the night that calmed her. The man whose moods she'd learned to read, simply by the sounds that filtered through to her cell. Who shared his own fears when the world seemed bleakest, despite himself, and let her be a balm to his troubled heart.
She closed her eyes and let the rhythm of Thorin's footsteps quiet her mind. Her thoughts drifted, back towards the first moments when she'd woken from the enchanted river's nightmare. At first, all she could recall was the panic that had swamped her-fighting off the arms that held her captive, taking them to be a troll's-but the hypnotic beat of Thorin's feet allowed her to look farther back than she had before, to the very first moments above the river's surface.
Broken fragments of memory slipped across her eyelids, mingled with remembered flashes of smell, touch, and sound. The arms that had quickly become so frightening had first been a safe haven, filled with the subtle scent of musk and spice. A deep voice told her time and again that she was safe. The same voice that tried to reassure her now through the days of captivity.
Bell opened her eyes and bit her lip, tapping her foot against the ground in an agitated beat. This new memory cast a different light onto the moments that came after. How when her eyes had finally refocused, Thorin had been the first person she saw, standing closer than the rest. The look of fear on his face when he stared down at her. How he'd reached a hesitant hand towards her before she flinched away. How he'd gone from fearful to fierce in the space of a heartbeat, and remained there for the better part of a day, only to soothe her to sleep in the night . . .
The tempo of her foot picked up pace.
A series of knocks broke into her thoughts. The question code. Bell shook her head to clear it. What sort of wild fantasy was she building? Trying to see signs of something that in all likelihood wasn't there to be found? Foolish hobbit, she chided herself, crossing to peer through the slot in her door.
"There's no one here," she said, trying to ignore the strange shallow feel of her heartbeat.
"Something's bothering you."
"I . . . it's nothing," Bell stammered. Was he mind-reading now? "Just thinking about how we'll escape."
"No, you're not. You don't fidget like that, except when there's something bigger bothering you."
"It's just . . ." she hesitated and gathered the ends of her tunic into her fists. She shouldn't do it-shouldn't ask questions that might lead to answers she didn't want to hear-but she couldn't help herself. "There was something you said on the night we were captured. When Bofur and the rest charged off towards the Elven fires. You said, 'If you get lost in this place, I may never find you again.'"
"Yes."
"I, Thorin," Bell swallowed to steady herself before continuing. "Not we. Not the company-I. And it was you who was carrying me when I woke. You who told me to take what water I needed, when we were all in danger of dying of thirst."
He didn't reply, and Bell found herself grateful that she couldn't see his face. If she'd guessed wrong-if she'd imagined something that was nothing at all-would her questions push him away? She didn't think she could keep going if he withdrew from her.
Even so, she couldn't bite back the question, "Why? Why be so careful of me?"
Thorin's pacing stopped, dropping the dungeon into a silence so palpable Bell thought she could bury herself beneath it and almost felt tempted to try.
"Thorin? What aren't you telling me?"
She could hear his breathing quicken, then he drew in a long inhalation. "Over the course of our travels I . . . came to care for you, Bell." His voice rumbled in a low baritone so rich it sent vibrations coursing through her skin.
So she hadn't imagined it. Her heart raced, so fast it made her dizzy. "And me?" she asked, digging her fingers into her thigh. "Did I . . . care for you as well?"
Before Thorin could reply, the distant flicker of torchlight glimmered through the slot in her door. A returning guard. Bell fought down a wave of frustration and knocked four times in short succession, warning Thorin not to speak.
He gave one short rap in response.
Bell hugged her knees close and rested her forehead on balled fists. Of all the times the Elves could choose to return, why now? The better to torment her, she supposed. Now she would have no choice but to wait, with nothing to do but wonder what sort of answer she would receive. She hadn't thought it was possible for time to move more slowly in the perpetual dimness of the dungeon. She'd been wrong.
#
Strange sounds woke Bell from a troubled slumber. Hushed voices nearby. The scrape of metal against metal at her door.
She stumbled to her feet and retreated to the far corner, pressing herself against the stones. Had the Elves finally decided to do something with her? Would Thranduil try to drag answers from her lips? Had they come for Thorin, too?
The bolt slid back and her door swung inward. Bilbo Baggins stood in the threshold, a large ring of iron keys in his hand. A cluster of bearded men peered in past him. Bell stepped away from the wall and took a step towards the door, her eyes scanning the men for Thorin.
She found him just behind Bilbo. He'd grown thinner, his face gaunt, emphasizing his aquiline nose, but the eyes were just as bright as she remembered, fierce and piercing. When her gaze locked with his, she found herself trapped, unable to look away, until the corner of his lips softened into a half-smile.
Bilbo beckoned her forward. "Come on," he whispered. "Follow me. I have a plan."
Bell raced to the door. The Dwarves backed up to make space for her to exit. She wanted to greet them, but Bilbo shushed them all with a raised finger in front of his lips, and hurried them off down the hallway.
The Dwarves all looked smaller than she recalled, and it took Bell a moment to realize that it wasn't just that they'd grown thin, but the Elves had apparently taken most of their clothing as well. None of them wore any of their outer layers, which had added a great deal to their bulk. All that was left was their trousers, tunics, and boots. Of course, not one of them carried a weapon.
Bell scampered along near the rear of the line, listening intently for any sound that might warn them of approaching Elves. It had become clear while they were in the forest that her hearing was keener than the rest, but she heard nothing, save for a rumbling sound that grew louder with each passing step. When she realized it was the sound of rushing water her steps slowed. Where was Bilbo leading them?
A hand touched the small of her back and she glanced over her shoulder. Thorin's deep-set eyes stared back at her, barely visible in the dark corridor. He pressed his fingers against the side of her spine, urging her to keep the pace.
Forcing her nerves back down, she hurried ahead, catching up to Nori. The air grew moist and the smell in the corridor shifted, reminding Bell of the scent of fresh-turned ground after a rain. Bilbo directed the Dwarves down a branching tunnel. Instead of the same earthen ground, this tunnel had a wooden plank floor that dropped down a set of stairs to a broad dock, built out in the open space over a swift-running river.
Rows upon rows of barrels were stacked in piles across the dock. Most were unopened, but near the end of the expanse, next to a rectangular opening in the planks, stood a large number of empty barrels, their lids leaning up against their sides.
Bilbo spread his hands and beamed. "Here it is," he said in a low voice. "Your escape route!"
"Tell me you don't mean what I think you mean," said Dwalin, running a hand through his beard.
Bilbo ushered the company across the dock towards the empty barrels. "These are ready to be returned down the river. I've seen them do it many times. They roll them off the dock, and away they float. They raise the portcullis-" he gestured to a wrought-iron lattice that rose from beneath the surface of the river towards the ceiling, "-and off the barrels bob. They may have bespelled the door, but not the river."
Bell's insides went numb. Cold seeped inwards from her skin towards her bones. She couldn't pull her eyes from the water, racing past below through a narrow gorge in the bedrock at the base of the Elf king's hall.
"I'm not getting in there," said Fili.
"Yes, you are," Thorin replied. "And quickly, before anyone returns."
At Thorin's command, the company crept ahead. Surprisingly, it was Ori who screwed up his courage first to clamber into a barrel. It was large, and Bilbo gathered up armfuls of straw to shove down in around him to cushion him against any unforeseen buffeting.
Seeing young Ori make the first move, the rest followed suit. The barrels were of varying sizes, and those who opted for the smaller barrels required less straw. Bilbo and Thorin pounded the lids into place, making certain they wouldn't come loose on the downstream journey.
Oin and Gloin complained bitterly, and Balin muttered about old bones.
Bell watched all of this as if from a distance, shivers beginning to race through her. The cursed dream she'd managed to bury, at least for a little while, surged up around her, pulling at her feet, her legs, her belly. Without thought, she backed away from the barrels and the gaping hole in the floor and the overwhelming roar of the river. Instinct told her to run. To put as much distance between herself and the water as she could, but her back came up against the wall and there she stopped, gasping in shallow breaths.
#
One by one, Thorin and Bilbo carefully stuffed the Dwarves into place. Thorin pounded the lid down over Bofur, making certain there were no seams through which the water could seep.
Bilbo glanced over at him from behind the next barrel. "Did you pack Bell?"
"No," Thorin said. He hadn't so much as seen her since they reached the dock. Spinning around, he found her huddled against the back wall, her fingers wrapped around a protruding root, a wild look in her eyes.
His stomach sank and he crossed to her with brisk strides. "You need to come with me. Now."
She shook her head, her knuckles whitening. "I can't. You know I can't."
"You have to."
"I've drowned enough times. I can't do it again." The whites of her eyes showed fully around her irises, like a pony spooked by lightning.
"Thorin, if you wouldn't mind hurrying?" said Bilbo. "They'll be coming soon."
Thorin grasped Bell's shoulder. "You have to trust me."
She shook her head, her curls flying. "Go on. Make your escape. Take back Erebor, and maybe someday you can come back and find another way to free me."
"Thorin?" Bilbo's voice rose to a worried pitch. "I hear someone coming."
She left Thorin no choice.
"I'm sorry, Bell." He wrenched her hands from the root, slung her over his shoulder, and raced towards the last open barrel, one of the largest. With no time to be gentle, he dropped Bell in feet first and jumped in after her. Wrapping both arms around her, he pulled her into a crouch and held her fast, arms pinned so she couldn't struggle.
Bilbo shoved handfuls of straw into the empty space
"No, please," Bell begged. "Let me go. Let me go."
Thorin let go with one arm long enough to press his hand over her mouth. With his face next to her ear, so close his beard grazed her cheek, he hissed, "I know you're afraid, but you must be silent or all is lost. Do you understand?"
A tremendous shudder ran through her small body, but when it passed, she sucked in long, shaking breaths. She nodded, then buried her face against his chest, her hands clenching in his tunic.
"Trust me," he whispered. "I won't let anything happen to you."
"Hssh!" Bilbo hissed. The lid closed over them, and Thorin heard four hard blows around its edges, then nothing more.
It had taken more than four hits to fully seal the other barrels. He turned his eyes upward. Light seeped through thin seams in sections around the edge of the circle. His arm tightened unconsciously around Bell. It would be fine. The seams were small and the barrel was large. Any leak would be slow.
Footsteps drew near. Elvish voices argued briefly over whether these were the proper barrels to send downriver, but eventually a splash sounded, followed quickly by another and another, then their own barrel was rolled onto its side.
Thorin pressed his hand tighter over Bell's mouth, afraid she'd lose her nerve and cry out, but despite trembling like a dry leaf in a windstorm, she remained silent while they spun along the planks.
The drop came with no warning. It felt like they fell for a very long time, but it couldn't have been more than a few seconds. The barrel hit the river and sank beneath the surface, then bobbed upward, turning in a slow circle. Thorin tried to count the splashes, but lost track in the clamor of barrels bouncing off each other, sending them spinning one way and then another.
"Raise the portcullis!" an Elf shouted.
There came a loud, metallic groan. The barrel picked up speed, racing forward towards the east and freedom.
"Portcullis down!" The voice was hardly audible, but the clang when the portcullis slammed back into place, with the company on the far side, reverberated through Thorin's mind.
They were free.
#
Author's Note: Sorry about the delay on this chapter. Had several all-day activities this weekend that completely ate up my writing time.