I realize that I somewhere got off in the numbering of my chapters. Don't know how that happened. Oh, well.

I appologize for the brevity of this chapter. Real life is a pain.

Disclaimer: I don't own Tolkien's magical world.

Ch 16: We must away, ere break of day

The march to the Elven King's palace was brutal for all of them. Their weapons and anything of value had been removed before they were compelled to march in font of their captors. None of their guards showed any remorse when the Dwarfs stumbled, instead urging them faster through the forest.

Soon they arrived at looming gates set into a hill. The Company was marched inside. Fíli couldn't suppress the shiver that ran down his spine as the gates shut to behind them. There was no escaping now. They were led through countless halls and passageways. Finally, the tunnels opened up into a grand room.

At the end of the room was a grand throne. Seated in the throne was a regal, blond haired Elf. The company was brought the foot of the throne and made to kneel. The Elf regarded them with disgust.

"What are you doing in my realms, Thorin son of Thrain?" the Elf asked in a haughty manner, "Last you were here, I banished you on pain of death."

"What we are doing none of your business," Thorin snarled back. The Elf stared at Thorin for several minutes with unblinking blue eyes. He then wrinkled nose like he smelled something dead.

"You seek to reclaim the mountain, don't you?" he accused, looking around the Company. None one answered his accusation, but some of them shifted uncomfortably. The silence dragged on.

"So be it. I had hoped you would make this easy on yourselves. Take them to the cells. Let them wait until they are ready to answer," he commanded with a wave of his hand. The guards led their captives down, deeper into the maze of caverns to a hall of cells. There each of the Company was searched once more before being shoved into a cell.

As soon as the elf slammed the door shut behind him, Fíli turned around and gave it a good kick. Nothing happened, the door didn't even rattle. After the guards disappeared back down the hall, he pulled out one of the four knifes the guards had missed. He doubted that he could pick the lock, but it was worth a try. Five hours later and he was still no closer to freedom. He returned the knife to its sheath with dejected sigh. Curse elves and their magical doors.

Hours started to blend together as time slowly but surely crept on. The bindings for his ribs had come loose at some point and he felt as though a knife was being twisted in his side. He lightly pressed a hand to his side in an attempt to alleviate some of the pain. He felt bones grind against each other and the fiery knife redouble its assault. He groaned and leaned back into the cool cell wall. He could hear Dwalin cussing up a storm in the cell next to his.

Minutes slipped into hours, hours into days. The Elves were not overly cruel, giving them food and water, but they never let their prisoners out of their cells, save when they were being questioned.

Thorin was called for questioning almost every day. Fíli watched with worried eyes as Thorin was dragged away and counted the minutes until he was dragged back to his cell. Fíli, too was taken for questioning more than once.

The Elven King, Thranduil as he had learned, was growing increasingly more frustrated at the lack of response from any of the Dwarfs. Neither threats nor bribes got any information. Soon threats of violence turned to acts of violence. More than one of the Dwarfs came back with a broken nose or a plethora of bruises.

By Fíli's reckoning, they had been trapped for almost a week. He was laying on the rough cot in his cell. His ribs were throbbing worse than usual, curtesy of a frustrated guard at his interrogation. As he was laying there, the lock opened. Fíli didn't move, instead he stayed where he was, apathetically staring at the ceiling. Something moved out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head. He was expecting to see Elven guards standing over him, ready to haul him off for more questioning. However, the face that appeared in his vision was not who he was expecting. It was Bilbo. The hobbit was grinning.

"I stole the keys off the guards," he announced proudly. Fíli stared at Bilbo dumbstruck.

"You what?"

"Come on, come on. The others are waiting," Bilbo urged. Fílli dragged himself out of the cell and found that everyone else was waiting just outside. With the whole Company free, Bilbo set off down the passageway, motioning for them to follow.

Fíli's ribs protested being moved around. He followed behind the others in an awkward shuffle. He found he could walk mostly upright if he braced his arm against his ribs. The hobbit led the dwarfs down to the cellar level of the place. Fíli froze as he noticed two Elves sitting in at a table in the corner. He quickly realized that the Elves were fast asleep from the effects of wine. The company ducked behind a row of barrels to keep out of sight of the drunk elves.

"You led us the wrong way," Dwalin pointed out to the hobbit, "This is the cellar."

"I have a plan. In the barrels, quickly," Bilbo hissed. The whole company hesitated, not quite sure what the hobbit had in mind. One of the Elves stirred in his sleep.

"Do it," Thorin barked in a no-nonsense voice. The dwarfs scrambled into the nearest barrels. Bilbo scurried alongside them, checking that they were all settled in a barrel. When he got to Fíli he noticed the dwarf's pale face and quietly asked,

"Are you alright?"

"Fine," Fíli said through grit teeth. He tried to give a reassuring smile, but suspected that he failed miserably. Bilbo gave him one more worried glance before hurrying away.

"What now?" Fílli heard Bofur ask.

"Hold your breath," Bilbo responded. Before he could ask what that meant, Fíli felt his stomach turn as his barrel jerked sideways, then fell through a trapdoor into the darkness below.