A/N: Merry Christmas~! Enjoy an early update~!

Bilbo was getting tired of elvish food.

At least, he was getting tired of the kinds of food he would risk nicking from the kitchens. Though he would wait until the cooks had left for the night, he never allowed himself to steal food that he knew would be used for entrées or desserts. That left him to browse from a selection of lesser quality foods that would mostly be eaten as snacks by servants. And, despite his large appetite, he made sure to only take enough to fill the pockets of his coat.

'If I were just a bit more plucky, I'd risk using the last embers of the fires to roast a sausage or two,' he thought, taking a bite out of an apple. 'In fact, I wish I was pluckier. But no…I'm too cautious. And because of that, I'm on my fifth apple, eighth piece of waybread, and who knows how many handfuls of nuts in just two days…'

Once he finished eating the apple, he stood up and followed the path away from his little hiding nook. Poking his head around a corner, he made sure no one was in the hallway before stepping out and making his way towards the open section of the palace. He didn't know how long he had been in this place, but he did know that it was long enough to have learned where the kitchen, dungeon, throne room, and cellars were. He had stumbled across a few random places during his exploration, but they hadn't been worth remembering.

None of those places had given any ideas on how to get the others out of this place in a safe manner.

'I'd go visit the others, but I know they'd just ask me if I've come up with anything yet and every time I tell them I haven't, they look more and more hopeless. I'm trying though. Yavanna knows I'm trying. But…I do miss Bofur and Baylee and I know they miss me. Poor Bofur, especially.' He didn't know how much time had passed between their arrival and now, but something told him it was well over a week.

Finally reaching the open portion of the palace, he walked to the edge of the path—well, almost to the edge. Being afraid of heights, he never got too close so he wouldn't have to peer down into the river below. Instead, he simply tossed the apple core into the middle of the ravine before turning and starting to follow the path in the direction of the dungeons.

Soon, however, he hurried over to the wall and pressed himself against it when he saw a pair of elves coming his way. As they drew closer, he realized he recognized one of them: Tauriel. He was surprised to see her so far away from the dungeons; he had come to learn that she was captain of Thranduil's guard, and was the one who oversaw the treatment of any and all prisoners in the dungeons.

The two were entirely oblivious to his presence as they walked right by him, chatting away in some elvish dialect. He badly wished he could understand them; all the forms of elvish he had heard throughout his life (which, admittedly, wasn't very many) had always sounded like music to his ears. It took some effort to keep himself from following the two just to eavesdrop on their conversation, even if their voices were a bit hard to hear thanks to his magic ring. When he wore it—which was practically all the time—he was left in a sort of in-between world: Colors were muted, voices were little more than echoes, and shadows were eerily long and seemed to move about.

Once they were out of sight, he continued on his way, knowing he had quite a way to go before he had to make any turns. He tucked his hands in his pockets, wishing he could whistle or hum or sing to himself. Though he normally enjoyed the quiet, this place could be too quiet. Everywhere else, there would be some sort of ambient noise in the background—a crackling fire, a sizzling frying pan, tweeting birds, the distance singing of one of his neighbors…

But in here? Silence.

Complete and utter silence.

He hated it. Not only was it unnerving, but it also left him feeling a bit paranoid that someone would hear his footsteps or his breathing, no matter how quiet he was. The only good thing about the silence was how it allowed him to hear anyone who might be approaching from around a corner—if they were talking, that is. There had been a time or two, however, when he had rounded a corner only to miss bumping into someone by mere inches because they had been silent.

As he passed by a hallway that he knew to branch off towards the throne room, he saw movement from the corner of his eye. Thinking it had just been a passing elf, he continued on his way. Until, that is, he realized that the movement had been too low in his vision to be an elf. Quickly backing up, he was in time to catch a flash of pale, yellow fabric dart down an adjacent hallway.

'That better not be who I think it is,' he thought, hurrying after the person. 'And if it is who I think it is, then she is in big trouble!'

Sprinting over to the opening of the hallway, he nearly let out a curse and pressed himself against the wall as a group of six elves came down the hall. Between them, they carried a large pig (or was it a small boar?) that had been tied to a board. As he looked down the hallway, though, he could see no one else, let alone anything pale yellow in color.

That is, until the elves were had turned the corner and disappeared from sight. The moment they were gone, Baylee appeared from nowhere just feet away from him—almost like she had her own magic ring. The suddenness of her appearance startled him enough that he almost swore out loud.

Instead, he harshly whispered, "Baylee Baggins! What do you think you're doing!?"

She squeaked and spun around, looking around for the source of the voice. "D-da'…?" she whispered back, her brows furrowed.

"Yes, it's me," he said, walking towards her so he didn't have to whisper quite so loudly. "H-how in the world are you out of your cell? And just what do you think you're doing so far from the dungeons?!"

Her lips pursed in a small pout. "I can squeeze through the bars of the cell doors," she explained. "As such, I'm doing my duty as the company's Mouse-Lass by doing a bit of sneaking and spying." As she whispered, she kept twisting and turning her head, using both her eye and her ears to search for anyone who may be approaching.

"Does Thorin know you're doing this?" He groaned when she nodded. "Wh-wha-why is he allowing you to do this?! Do you know how much trouble you could get into if you were to get caught?"

"Of course I know, da'. That's why I'm sneaking."

"Well, you're done now," he scolded. Taking hold of her hand, he started to march back the way they had come. "You're going back to your cell, where it's safe. I won't have my daughter risking her neck just for a-a-a bit of sneaking about!" He was taking her back towards the open path.

Realizing this, she pulled against him a bit. "We can't go that way, da'!" she told him, her nose scrunching up slightly.

"And why not?" he questioned, glancing over his shoulder. He wore an extremely fatherly look, though Baylee didn't see any of it.

"Because there have been people coming and going from the cellars all day!" As Bilbo let go of her wrist, she crossed her arms over her chest and pouted at him. "That's why I'm up here. Tauriel mentioned some sort of feast that's coming up, though she wouldn't tell me much more about it. I'm trying to figure out what the feast is for and if we could find a way to get the others out of their cells while everyone's distracted by said feast."

His brows furrowed in confusion. "Tauriel talks with you?"

"Sometimes…surprisingly, she mostly talks with Kili. Ithiliel is the one I talk with mostly." A quiet sigh left her mouth as she once more started to look around in order to make sure they were alone. "But I haven't seen her in a few days. …Well, I think it's been a few days. It's quite hard to judge time down here."

"Wa-wait, wait, wait. The elves have been talking with you?" he questioned. "As in full conversations that don't involve questioning you about our adventure?" She nodded again. "Why are they talking with you? You're a prisoner…captors don't normally socialize with their prisoners."

She looked up at him (at least, where she thought he was) with a small pout on her face, but it was no ordinary pout. Bilbo recognized this expression all too well: She had used it hundreds of times over the years to try and persuade him to let her have or do something she normally wasn't allowed.

And almost every single time, it made him relent.

"It's been so long since I last had any lasses to talk to," she told him, her voice a bit disappointed in tone and her eyes extremely sad. "I've only had a bunch of males for conversation…and those conversations are almost always about the same things: Battles, women, and drinking. It gets ever so tedious having to listen to the same thing over and over again."

Bilbo stared at her for a moment before putting a hand over his mouth, stifling his laughter. "After all these years, you're still very convincing with those puppy eyes of yours," he said. He watched as a cheeky grin came to her lips.

"It helps that I'm small." She tilted her head slightly, a look of concentration coming to her face. Before Bilbo could ask what was wrong, she was turning around and heading down the hall. "There are people coming." She started to lead him back down the hall before ducking into the side corridor where she had come from.

Bilbo followed after her, curious as to what path she took to get this far; he certainly hadn't been on this route before. He wasn't very fond of how narrow the corridor was, though. It was barely wide enough for three people to walk alongside one another. 'It would be a miracle if we weren't caught should a small group of elves come walking this way,' he thought, frowning.

Luckily, his worries weren't realized, as the halls remained clear. He was still left amazed that there weren't guards posted at the entrance of the dungeons; the elves were that confident no dwarf would escape. Once they were down in the relative privacy of the dungeons, he allowed himself to take off the ring and tucked it away in his pocket for safekeeping.

"You're back so soon," Fili said, a small frown on his face when he saw Baylee walking past his cell. "Did something happen?" Then, as Bilbo came into view, a look of understanding came to his face. "Ahhh…Caught by good ol' dad, I see."

She nodded. "I didn't even get terribly far—maybe four halls away this time."

"Unlike me, young lady, you don't have a magic ring," Bilbo gently scolded. "The chances of you getting caught are far higher than the chances of me getting caught." He watched as she squeezed her way back into the cell. "You're not going to go visit Thorin?"

"He was asleep when I left," she explained. "And being that I've been gone less than half an hour, I'm fairly certain he's still asleep." She slid under the blankets of her makeshift bed, pulling them close to her.

"I'm awake, though." Bilbo blinked, looking to his right only to see Bofur' poking his head out of his cell.

His brow rising, he quietly laughed and walked over to him. "Of course you're awake," he said, rising up on his toes slightly so he could steal a kiss from him. "How're you doing?"

"Same as before," Bofur murmured, his eyes closing as he rested his forehead against Bilbo's. "Could be better, could be worse, but not complain' either way. 'Cept for how I can't hold you properly."

"If I could fix that, I would." He closed his eyes as Bofur managed to wrap his arms around him through the bars. Copying him, he slipped his arms through the bars and wrapped them around the dwarf; he wished he was Baylee's size. Then he could slip into the cell and get a proper hug.

"What about you?" Bofur murmured. "How're you doing?"

"The same as you. Though, Baylee gave me a bit of information that I wasn't aware of."

"Oh?"

"Mhm. Apparently, there's some sort of feast happening soon."

"Oh, aye! That! Ithiliel was about t' tell her what sort o' feast it was when she got called away." He quietly sighed. "Neither she nor Tauriel have been back for a few days, though. They must be fairly busy with preparations."

His brow rose and he opened his eyes slightly. "Baylee mentioned that those two have been visiting. Have you lot been antagonizing them?"

"Us? Antagonize elves?" Bofur gasped, feigning offensive. "Why, Bilbo! You really think we'd stoop t' that level?" He snorted when he saw the bland expression the hobbit was wearing. "No, no, we haven't been antagonizin' them. If anythin', we actually kind o' like Tauriel. She's been ensuring we get good treatment. Mahal's beard, she even arranged for us t' have baths a few days ago."

Brow rising, Bilbo chuckled. "That would explain why you don't smell nearly as bad."

Grinning, Bofur gently nuzzled him. "Very funny, love," he murmured. Once more, his eyes closed and he let out a soft sigh. "In all seriousness, though, Tauriel's been treatin' us well an' we've been polite t' her in return. Ithiliel, though—that lass only talks with Baylee. She just adores your wee lass. Thinks she's just the cutest little thing."

"Well, she's not wrong. I do have an adorable daughter."

"Aye, that you do. You just best hope that she-elf doesn't steal her away…She keeps sayin' how she's going t' take her away from here an' make sure she gets t' wear only the prettiest dresses…"

At that, Bilbo frowned. "I know Baylee enjoys dressing up in nice clothes as much as the next hobbit lass, but something tells me that she wouldn't really appreciate being used as an elf's living doll…though, it seems we won't have to worry about that for a while, since the feast has the elves all in a tizzy. I saw some carrying an enormous boar towards the kitchens. It had to have been twice the size of Bombur."

Bofur quietly groaned at the thought. "Oh, roast boar is delicious," he sighed. "An' if it's twice the size o' my brother, it's goin' t' be feeding a lot o' people." His stomach growled at the thought.

"You act as if they're starving you," Bilbo chuckled, his brow rising. "I know for a fact that you're getting three decent meals a day."

"Aye, three decent an' small meals a day! An' they're always the same thing: A hunk o' cheese, a small loaf o' bread, an' a hunk o' pork. Would it kill them t' change up the menu a bit? Maybe some beef or venison? Maybe even a bit o' stew or roast vegetables?"

Bilbo snorted. "Roast vegetables? You must be desperate for a change if you're willing to eat vegetables."

"Oi, I enjoy vegetables—I just like t' make sure that there's a meat dish t' go with them." There was a small pout on his lips. "But if the dish is entirely roast vegetables…" He shook his head.

Rising up on his toes again, the hobbit stole a second kiss from him. "I'll get you out of here soon enough. And then you'll be able to eat some different foods, I promise," he murmured.

The kitchens were bustling.

Bilbo was curled up in his normal spot, listening as orders were given out in elvish and smelling delicious meats as they were roasted to perfection. He was thankful he had managed to nick some waybread a few hours ago; if he hadn't, he was sure they'd be able to hear his stomach growling.

'I need to get away from this spot,' he thought, his eyes shut and his head tilted back against the wall. 'I need to get away from all these delicious smells. But the halls have been so busy today…I don't want to accidentally run into anyone.' He knew that it was a risk he would eventually have to take, however.

After nearly another hour of sitting there, enduring the delicious smells, he gave up. He begrudgingly got to his feet and started to walk away from the kitchens. 'I suppose I should go see what all the hustle and bustle down in the cellar is about,' he said to himself. 'Baylee did mention how there were a lot of comings and goings from there. Perhaps I'll find something of interest…?' Shaking his head, he brushed off his backside and carefully started to make his way towards the cellars.

Just as he thought, navigating his way through the halls was a tricky ordeal. Elves were hurrying about, some carrying furniture, others clothing, and still more carried plant life. He even saw another group carrying a second boar towards the kitchens, though this one wasn't quite a large as the first.

'They're definitely preparing for a feast—and it looks like it's going to be a rather large one, too.' He pressed himself against the wall as a group of three elves walked by, each one carrying a chair. 'I've seen more elves in the last day or two than I have in all the time I've been wandering here…'

Once the elves had passed, he continued on his way. Normally, it would have taken only about fifteen minutes to reach the cellar, but today, it took him nearly forty-five minutes. He had been forced to stop many times and had nearly three near misses.

Upon reaching the cellar, he breathed a sigh of relief. Contrary to what Baylee had told him, it was almost empty. At least, almost empty of living things. As for inanimate objects, there were plenty of those. Most of them looked to be bottles of wine, stored on dozens and dozens of shelves. His brows furrowed; there had to be at least five hundred bottles of wine stored down here. He found even more wine as he explored a bit, though it was stored in dozens of barrels.

'These elves must really enjoy their wine,' he thought, creeping his way past a pair of shelves, where an elf was pulling bottles down and tucking them into a large basket. 'I've never seen so much of it in one place—and that includes a vineyard!'

Coming around another shelf, he stopped in his tracks. Lying in the middle of the floor on their sides was a row of empty barrels. Beside them was a large lever, but what purpose the lever served, he hadn't the slightest idea. Walking over, he crouched down in front of one of the barrels, impressed by how large it was.

'You could fit a dwarf in here,' he thought. 'Maybe even two, if they were smaller. Bombur would have a hard time fitting, though.' Looking up, he very nearly cried out in surprise as he saw an elf coming towards him, carrying an empty barrel. Scurrying away from the spot, Bilbo partially hid himself behind a shelf—not that he needed to hide.

"I feel like we've been emptying these barrels for days now," the elf sighed, setting the barrel down alongside the other empty ones. Bilbo was more than a little surprised to hear him talk in Westron; all the other elves had been speaking elvish! "I know our king enjoys his wine, but this is a bit ridiculous, don't you think?"

"It's good, Dorwinion wine," a second elf replied, also in Westron. "Of course, our king enjoys it—and with the Feast of Starlight tomorrow, he'll happily be over-imbibing in it, just as the rest of us will." This elf, Bilbo saw, had a ring of keys on his belt. "It might even make him merry enough that he'll send some down to our prisoners."

The first elf laughed, his brow rising. "Our king is as likely to send wine to the dwarves as he is to release them."

The second elf patted the ring of keys. "Do you know how tempting it is to set them free just so we can place bets on them to see which of them can find their way to the feast hall first?"

"With thirteen dwarves, there would be a lot of options, that's for certain."

"You mean fourteen—don't forget that little lass they have with them."

The first elf frowned, his brow rising. "No, we'll leave her out of it. She's already been punished enough, having to travel so far from her home with a circus of dwarves. Frankly, I don't see why Ithiliel hasn't smuggled her out of her cell yet."

"Because Ithiliel knows better. She may not be a dwarf, but she's still an accomplice of theirs and she most definitely knows more than she lets on." He shook his head, looking down at the barrels. "How many more barrels do we have to empty before we send these ones down the ramp?"

"At least ten. But we can't send them downriver until the kitchen finishes with the last of their barrels. The last time we forgot to send the kitchen barrels, the Laketown bargeman wasn't very happy, since he gets paid by the barrel." He ran a hand through his dark hair. "Don't worry. We'll have plenty of time to enjoy the feast tomorrow."

"I hope so. I missed last year's feast because I had that injured leg…" He crossed his arms over his chest. "The others have gone upstairs to take their break and to get a bite to eat. I think we should do the same."

The first elf nodded in agreement. "I'm starving. I haven't had anything since last night." He moved to follow his companion towards the stairs.

"And just why is that?" He didn't sound the least bit pleased by his companion's lack of food.

"Because I've been running my hindquarters off preparing for the feast, of course. Thranduil has been running me ragged." He shook his head, sighing heavily. "Elros, do this. Elros, fetch me that. Elros, check to see if Oakenshield is ready to talk…"

Bilbo waited for the voices to fade away up the stairwell before coming out of his hiding spot. 'So, these are going to go down into some sort of river and float to—to this Laketown place? I suppose, then, that means there's a sort of trap door nearby for this lever?'

He started to walk around the barrels, searching for the trapdoor, though he didn't have to look far. As he leaned in close to the floor, he could see a faint seam that formed a long rectangle in the floor. 'Aha, so this is the ramp…now the question is, how far is the drop? Certainly not too far, since they wouldn't want the barrels to break…'

A frown came to his lips and he stood upright. 'Am I really considering packing my friends and daughter away into barrels before sending them downriver in order to get them out of this place?' Shaking his head, he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. 'They're most certainly going to put up a fight about it. Who wants to be shoved in a barrel and then tossed into a river? I know I certainly wouldn't. But…it's really the only chance we'll get, I'm afraid. The main problem is how to get the keys from Elros and then how to distract him and his friend long enough for the lads to climb into the barrels and for me to pull the lever.'

Releasing his nose bridge, he sighed and began to wander around the cellar a bit more just to make sure there was nothing else of importance to be found. 'I have between now and then to come up with some sort of diversion…Should I tell the others my plan?' His brows furrowed at the thought and he shook his head. 'No, no—if I told them, they'd never go along with it. If I told them I had a plan, but gave them none of the details…Yes, that might work. And it would certainly give them a bit of hope. I might even be able to recruit Baylee to he—'

He paused in his tracks. 'No. No, no, no! I can't have her help me. It's too dangerous!' He wanted to grumble under his breath, but feared even that might be heard by any elves that may be nearby. 'But…She could be helpful. She's small and can fit into places I can't. And—and I need to have faith in her. I've seen her kill goblins and orcs; surely escaping an elvish dungeon would be far easier than killing something?'

After spending a good forty-five minutes searching the cellar for anything that could prove useful, he found nothing. He headed back up the stairs and made his way towards the dungeons. As he walked, he was once again exceedingly careful to not run into anyone; it was easier this time around, however, as the halls weren't nearly as full of people.

'Either they've gotten all the things needed for the feast or they're taking a break,' he told himself. 'I'm not sure which one I'm hoping for more…'

Soon enough, he was making his way down the path to the dungeons. Getting closer, he could hear the sounds of quiet conversation and bartering. He quietly chuckled, his brow rising as he heard Bofur trying to get someone to trade their meat for his bread.

"Why would we trade bread for meat, Bofur?" someone said. It was hard to tell if it was Gloin or Dwalin; the cavern's echo had a way of distorting their voices and making them sound indistinguishable from one another.

"Because I traded you my meat for your bread this mornin'," Bofur retorted.

"Here, you can have mine, Bofur." Bilbo frowned; that was Baylee. "I'm not very hungry right now anyway."

Coming around the corner, he could see various pieces of food being tossed between the cells. He waited until the air was clear before removing his ring, not wanting to startle anyone and make them drop their food.

"Bilbo's back," Nori called out, his words a bit muffled by the bite of cheese he had just taken.

He watched in amusement as various dwarven heads poked themselves out of the cell doors.

"Bilbo! Any news?" Kili questioned.

"Other than there being a feast tomorrow night, none," he replied, walking along the path. "Everyone's been fairly distracted by that, however, which has let me explore some places I haven't been to before."

"Have they been useful places?" Dwalin asked. "Are they places that can get us out o' these cells?"

"That I don't know just yet," he sighed. "Just like the last five times you asked. I promise, I am working on something! I'm just trying to hash out the last few details, alright?" It wasn't quite a lie, but it also wasn't quite the truth.

"Then why don't you tell us what you have so far?" Ori suggested. "Maybe we can help!"

Bilbo shook his head. "No, no—I'm afraid you'd all be rather useless, given that you only know your cells. It'll be Baylee's help I'll need." As he approached her cell, he saw her just climbing into her bed. "Baylee, dear?"

She looked over at him, dark circles under her eyes; the poor thing looked utterly exhausted. "Hello, da'," she replied, managing to muster up a smile for him.

His brows furrowed. "Baylee, are you feeling alright? You look awful…"

"I'm fine. I didn't get much sleep last night is all. An' no, it wasn't because I was—" She paused, covering her mouth as she yawned. "—It wasn't because I was sneaking around. I just couldn't sleep. I was about to take a nap, actually."

He didn't seem entirely convinced by her words, however. "Are you sure, dear? You're not coming down with anything, are you?"

She gave him a reassuring smile. "I promise I'm fine, da'. I just need little nap and I'll be good to…to continue sitting in this cell." A quiet laugh left her mouth.

"Alright then, I won't keep you up, then." He watched as she snuggled down into the nest of blankets. "Sleep well, dear."

"I'll try, da'. Thank you."

A small smile came to his lips as he watched her; he still wasn't convinced that she was truly alright, but at least she was getting some rest. Going over to Bofur's cell, he found the dwarf already standing at the bars, a cheeky grin on his lips as he watched the hobbit come towards him. Seeing that silly grin on his lover's face made it nearly impossible for Bilbo to not grin in return.

"What's got you so happy?" he chuckled, his brow rising. Standing on tiptoe, he stole a kiss from Bofur.

"The fact that I get t' see you today," he replied, nuzzling his cheek with his nose. "An' I heard that you might have a bit o' a plan in the works. I'm not goin' to ask you about it, though. The others are pressurin' you enough." Resting his forehead against Bilbo's forehead, he let out a quiet sigh. "How're you holdin' up?"

"Well enough." His eyes closed and he smiled, enjoying Bofur's closeness. "It's been a bit perilous in the halls today, though. A lot of people running about, getting things ready for the feast tomorrow night. I've been having to stay away from the kitchens because all the food they're making smells so good."

"Hm…I wonder if they'll take some pity on us and give us somethin' different to eat tomorrow?" Bofur chuckled. "As nice as it'd be, I doubt it'd happen. Baylee might get somethin' different if Ithiliel comes down here…Kili might get something, too, if Tauriel visits. But the rest of us?" He shook his head.

"Speaking of Baylee…" He opened his eyes and glanced over at his daughter's cell. "Do you know if she's been feeling alright? She told me she was and that she just didn't sleep well last night, but I don't quite believe her."

At that, Bofur rubbed the back of his neck. "Ah, your wee lassie had herself some nightmares last night," he explained. "They kept waking her up, so I had her come over here to try an' comfort her."

His head tilted; he couldn't remember the last time Baylee had had a nightmare. They had always been a rare occurrence for her. "She didn't go to Thorin? And how bad were these nightmares?"

"Not sure how bad they were—but they were bad enough that she was pale an' shaking like a leaf in the wind." He looked down at Bilbo, brushing a bit of hair from his face. "And no, she didn't go t' Thorin. The poor thing was too shaken to make it that far."

Bilbo frowned. "That's…odd. She doesn't normally get nightmares."

Bofur's brow rose. "Really? Because that's about the fifth time she's had them since we've been in here."

"What!?" he gasped, his eyes widening. He stepped away from Bofur so he could look over into Baylee's cell. She was curled up just where he had left her and, judging by her deep, slow breathing, she was already asleep. Moving back to his beloved, he swallowed hard. "How many times have they been bad enough she needed comforting?"

"Twice. First time, she went t' Thorin and we were just barely able t' get her back to her cell in time to avoid bein' caught by the guards. Which…might be the reason why she came into my cell instead the second time around." He shook his head, sighing. "Either way, the poor lass hasn't been sleeping well. We're not sure what's triggering the nightmares, but I'm thinking it's us being imprisoned like this."

"Why do you think that? Technically, this is the safest we've been since leaving the Shire."

"That's why. She's gettin' all this time to think about the horrors we've been through an' it's finally starting to sink in." Sighing again, he once more rubbed the side of his neck. "But, that's just a guess, o' course. I can't say I know for certain what's going on in your wee lassie's mind." Leaning over, he kissed Bilbo's forehead. "But if she wakes up before you leave the dungeons, maybe you should give her a nice, long hug, aye? A hug from a stepfather-to-be can only go so far." He quietly chuckled as Bilbo's cheeks turned as red as his jacket.

"We-we-well, I'm sh-sh-sure it helped more than you know," he stammered, Bofur's words making him a bit flustered.

Bofur's brow rose in amusement. "Why the sudden nervousness, love?" he murmured teasingly. "Does the thought o' me bein' Baylee's stepfather really get you that flustered?" A grin started to spread across his face as Bilbo opened and closed his mouth in an attempt to say something, but no words came out. "Aww, it does get you that flustered!" he teased. Once more, he nuzzled Bilbo's cheek with his nose. "Maralmizun."

A small smile came to his lips and he relaxed a bit. "I love you, too," he replied. His eyes closed and he did his best to bury his face in the crook of Bofur's neck. "And thank you…For comforting Baylee. I wish I had known; then I could have been here…"

"I'm not sure how much good it would have done for you t' be the one t' comfort her, admittedly. She didn't want anyone t' see her in such a state, an' since you can't fit between the bars like her, it'd mean havin' to coddle her out on the pathway."

He nodded slowly in agreement. "That is true…Though, hopefully, it won't be for much longer."

"I have faith in you." He turned his head, just barely able to kiss his temple. "You're the one who saved us from three hungry trolls, after all."

"Gandalf did that. I just bought time for him to get there."

"You played a crucial part t' ensuring that he was able t' get to us in time."

Rolling his eyes, Bilbo smiled. "If you insist," he chuckled. Leaning back slightly, he stole a kiss from Bofur's lips. "I need to go talk to Thorin for a few minutes, alright? Let him know I've got a plan in the works and such."

Nodding, Bofur reluctantly let go of him. "Alright. If anyone comes down here, we'll give you a whistle."

Stealing another quick kiss from the dwarf, Bilbo started to follow the path towards Thorin's cell. While he walked, he could start to feel his stomach churning; should he tell Thorin the details of his plan? Or should he keep him relatively in the dark like he was doing with the others? He knew he had to make up his mind quick, though—He was only a few yards from the cell.

When he stepped in front of the barred door, he found Thorin up and walking around, his hands clasped behind his back. He looked to be deep in thought, making Bilbo almost hesitant to disturb him. Glancing back up the path, he suddenly felt a bit foolish; of course, he wasn't going to see anyone else.

After a moment, he cleared his throat. Thorin frowned and, stopping in his tracks, turned towards him in confusion. Some relief came to his features when he realized it wasn't an elf who was visiting him and he walked over to the door.

"Master Baggins," he said with an acknowledging nod. "Do you bring news?"

"Some news, yes. But first, how're you doing? Are they still pestering you about the quest?"

"Not for the last couple of days, thankfully." Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned back against the wall. "I think they've finally given up."

"Or they're too busy preparing for the feast." He watched as the dwarf's brow rose. "Yes, there's a feast taking place—tomorrow night, as a matter of fact." He looked down at his feet, shifting somewhat uncomfortably. "I think I may have a plan to get you all out of here while the feast is happening."

Thorin's eyes widened greatly and a grin started to spread across his lips. "You do?"

Bilbo quickly held his hands up. "N-Now, just you wait," he lightly scolded. "I said I think I may have a plan. There's still quite a few details that I'm ironing out."

"What sort of details?"

"Well, for instance, the mode of transportation. How I'm supposed to get the keys from the jailor. How I'm supposed to guide a group of loud, clumsy dwarves to their freedom without being caught."

Thorin nodded slowly in understanding, the joy leaving his face the more Bilbo spoke. "That…is quite a few things that you're needing to iron out before tomorrow night, Master Baggins."

"I know. But I am working on it. I already know that I'll have to get some help from Baylee when she wakes up."

"…Mouse-Lass is sleeping?" he questioned, brow rising.

"She's taking a nap, yes. From what I hear, she hasn't been sleeping the best lately…she's been having some horrible nightmares." Shaking his head, he pinched the bridge of his nose.

Thorin's brows furrowed deeply. "She's having nightmares again?"

"Again?" He looked up, confused. "What do you mean, 'again'? She hasn't had any on this trip until now!"

Shaking his head, Thorin sighed; he suddenly felt a bit guilty. Had Baylee been wanting to keep her nightmares a secret from her father? "The first night we were in Beorn's home, she had had a nightmare that was bad enough to wake her. When she didn't come back from getting a drink of water, I went looking for her and found her curled up at the base of the water barrel." He closed his eyes, remembering that night all too well. "She admitted to me that she'd been having nightmares more and more frequently of late. But with how peacefully she slept while we were in the forest, I thought, perhaps, they had gone away."

"Bofur thinks they're coming about because of having so much free time to sit and think about what we've gone through." Sighing, he moved to sit down, he back partially against the wall. "I wish I could make them go away, though."

"As do I." Copying Bilbo, he slid down to the floor and, bringing a knee up, draped his arm over it. "I wish I knew a way to keep her out of harm's way. I wish I knew a way to keep you all out of harm's way…But it seems we just keep running into worse and worse trouble." He let his head fall back against the wall, his eyes opening slightly to stare at the ceiling. "If I could leave you all somewhere safe and continue this journey on my own, I would."

Glancing over at the king, Bilbo let out a quiet sigh. "You do realize that's impossible, right?" he asked, a bit of amusement in his voice. "You could leave us all in the safest, most comfortable place in the whole of Middle Earth and we wouldn't let you leave without us. You'd have to chain us down to keep us from going after you."

A soft laugh left his mouth. "That is true…you are all loyal to fault. A horrible trait, really."

Bilbo snorted. "We've gone this far with you. We're not going to let you finish this quest on your own." He shook his head, chuckling.

Thorin, too, quietly laughed. "Baylee has said similar phrases to me over the last few months…I see where she gets them from. Or, perhaps, you get them from her?"

"Oh, so you do remember her name," he snickered. "I was beginning to think you had truly forgotten it this time around."

His brow rose as he looked over at the hobbit, though he snorted as well. "I remember her name just as well as I remember yours, Bilbo. I've…just grown quite fond of calling her 'Mouse-Lass' over the course of the journey."

"Just as she's grown fond of calling you 'Oakenshield'. I daresay they've become more pet-names than they have titles." Changing his position, he laid down on the floor, his hands behind his head and his eyes shut.

Thorin watched him for a moment before letting out a quiet sigh. "Does it bother you…? The affections she and I have for one another, I mean."

Bilbo was quiet for some moments—so quiet, Thorin thought he had fallen asleep. As such, when he spoke, the king was nearly startled. "I'm not going to lie. They do bother me a little bit, but for what I hope are understandable reasons." Opening an eye, he peeked over at Thorin again. "If she is your One, then she'll be staying in Erebor with you instead of coming home with me. That…that'll take quite a while to get used to, even with Bofur being there in her place. Then there's the fact that you're so much older than her. You're already greying, for Yavanna's sake, and she only just turned thirty-three! But, I know I can't complain too much without being hypocritical—Bofur's a fair few decades older than me, after all…

"But I also find it strange. She's known you for so such a short amount of time and yet, I can tell she's truly in love with you. Everything about the way she interacts with you—you'd have to be blind and deaf to not tell how in love the two of you are," he sighed. "Meanwhile, she's known and has crushed on Halfast for years, yet I was never quite sure if she would ever get past the 'crush' phase. Despite my hopes of her settling down with the lad—even when she told me he kissed her—I wasn't sure if anything would come of it if ever we got back to the Shire."

Thorin nodded slowly as he listened to Bilbo speak. They were, of course, all valid concerns. Some of them he even worried about himself; the fact that she would have to stay in Erebor being the main one. She always spoke so fondly of the Shire, he knew she would miss it. She'd be able to visit, of course—it would be cruel to keep her from seeing her family.

"I hope you know I won't keep her from visiting you," he said after some minutes. "You're the most important person in her life; to keep her from seeing her father would be cruel." He ran a hand through his hair before resting his forehead in his palm. "As for how quickly we fell for one another…I'm afraid I don't have much of an answer for that, other than I believe it started in Rivendell." A small smile came to his lips when he remembered the long conversations he and Baylee had had while wandering the halls of the Last Homely Home.

"When you braided her hair for the very first time?" he asked with a small laugh. Looking at Thorin again, he found that he had managed to bring a slight flush of embarrassment to his cheeks.

"Her hair kept falling into her face," he replied, his tone a bit defensive. "I merely wanted to help her by tying it back." He glanced over at the hobbit, seeing a knowing grin on his lips. "…Though, perhaps there was a bit of flirtation in the gesture, but I hadn't realized it at the time."

Bilbo chuckled, letting his eyes drift shut. "I knew there had to have been some. You wouldn't have done such a complex braid if you were just helping her hair to stay out of her face."

His brow rose. "Complex? If I recall, it was just a four-strand braid."

"Well, I had never seen a braid like that before."

"Baylee did mention that the Shire didn't use as many different braids as we dwarves do. Maybe Bofur will change that while he's there?" Once more, he copied Bilbo by changing his position and laying down on the stone floor. "Or Baylee will when we go to visit you. I hear queens can be quite influential when it comes to fashion."

Bilbo was quiet for a moment. "She's really going to be queen, then?"

"Queen consort, yes."

"Hm. She's not going to like having all that attention on her."

His brow rose and he glanced over at the hobbit. "What do you mean by that?"

"Neither Baylee or I enjoy being the center of attention," he explained with a small laugh. "Even if it's for something good, we prefer to remain unnoticed in the background. Otherwise, we're just left standing their feeling quite awkward and nervous."

Thorin nodded slowly. "Hm. She will have to make public appearances, of course, but I won't force her to attend anything she feels truly uncomfortable with. And should she get too shy in the midst of some event, I'll allow her to hide behind me." There was a bit of laughter in his voice, letting Bilbo know the words had been in jest.

"Well, that's a relief," Bilbo smiled. "Though, I don't think she'd need to hide behind you—just wrap part of your overcoat around her and she'd be hidden well enough." He let out a small sigh; after a moment, he asked, "…Does being in love with her worry you at all?"

"Of course." He clasped his hands over his chest and crossed his ankles. "While I have the backing of the company, it will be a bit difficult to get other dwarves to understand that she is my One, therefore, she will be their queen. If she were a dwarf of a different social class, then there'd be no trouble; we don't have those sorts of taboos like the other races do."

"That's understandable, given how rare it is for a dwarf to even have a One."

"Yes. And, while there have been some dwarves who have found their Ones among humans, I…I don't think any dwarf has found their one among Hobbits until Bofur and I came along. Humans, at least, are larger than us."

Bilbo frowned and, turning his head to look at Thorin, cocked his brow. "What does it matter if humans are bigger than you?" he questioned. "Or rather, that hobbits are smaller than you?"

Copying him, Thorin turned his head to look at him. "Hardiness," he said, "especially when it comes to childbirth. I…I worry that if Mahal and Yavanna blessed us with the chance to have a child, it may not be the easiest thing for her to endure…" As he spoke, his cheeks had grown pinker and pinker.

"As valid of a concern as that is, it's not really something you'll need to worry about," he assured him. "Hobbit women are quite hardy, especially when it comes to childbirth. Yes, your children will be half dwarf, but unless she's carrying twins or triplets, she'll be fine. She may need a few days of bed rest, but nothing too serious."

"Hm…well, that is good to hear."

"If you do have children—which I hope you do, because I want at least one grandchild—what will happen if one of them is a son? Will he become your heir or would that still go to Fili, since he's full-blooded?"

"As my child, he would come to inherit the throne, yes. But if something were to happen to me before he was old enough, Fili would become king regent until my son reached the age of thirty."

"I take it thirty when dwarves come of age?"

"Yes. Though, you would never guess it based on how childish my nephews act." He quietly chuckled. "Fili's eighty-two and still acts twenty-three at times."

His brows rose in surprise. "Eighty-two? I would have never guessed he was that old. Just how old does that make you then?"

"One hundred ninety-five."

Bilbo's eyes shot open and he bolted upright. "Yo-yo-you're nearly two-hundred!?"

"Yes." He looked at Bilbo in confusion. "Does it surprise you that much?"

"Y-yes, of course it does! Balin and Oin look like they're nearly two-hundred, but you? You look like you're the equivalent of a hobbit who's in his sixties!"

Quietly laughing, he shrugged. "Some of us grey sooner than others. To be quite honest, I'm surprised my hair isn't more white, especially with how stressful my life has been…" Letting his eyes drift shut again, he slowly exhaled through his nose. "This makes you even more hesitant to let her and I be together, doesn't it?"

"Admittedly, yes. But I know there's no stopping it." He, too, sighed. "She's your One. Nothing will keep you away from her. Well, almost nothing, but that's not something I really want to think about right now." He ran a hand partway through his hair only to frown more; his hair was getting rather long. 'I must look ridiculous right now with my hair so unruly. If only I had some scissors or a razor,' he thought.

Thorin frowned. "I, too, don't want to think about that right now. I would rather think about how, with luck, we'll be out of this place soon." He shifted, tucking one hand behind his head while the other remained on his chest. "Are you positive you can't tell me anything about your plans thus far?"

"Yes. You must understand, I want to, but I fear that if I do, it'll only bring about bad luck. But I promise, I'm doing my best."

"I know you are, Master Baggins. It's just…Durin's Day is fast approaching." He let out a heavy sigh. "Or, rather, I think it's fast approaching. With all this time being spent trapped in the forest and now trapped in this dungeon, it's been hard to keep track of time."

"It's early September right now," Bilbo told him. "At least, I believe it is. The few times I've been outside the palace, I've seen that the leaves of deciduous trees were beginning to change color."

"We need to be out of here very soon, then." Bilbo could hear the frown in his voice. "Durin's Day is just over a month from now and we have at least another two weeks of travel to get to the mountain. That is, if we're still relatively far north."

Sitting up, Bilbo rubbed the back of his neck; he didn't like this deadline. He didn't like it at all. "Then I best go try and find a quiet place to sit and think," he sighed. "I don't know if I'll be back before the plan goes into action, but whatever happens, please trust me."

Thorin looked at him, a small smile on his lips. "You've given me no reason not to trust you, Master Baggins," he said. "Now go find your quiet spot. I don't want to keep you from your planning."

Bilbo gave him a thankful smile and nodded before taking his leave. Walking back up the path, he rubbed the back of his neck; it was stiff from having lain on the floor.

"Did you have a good chat, love?" Bofur asked once he was within sight.

Nodding, he went over to the dwarf and kissed his chin. "We did. I told him I've got a plan in the works and he told me he'll trust whatever I come up with." His eyes closed when Bofur rested his chin atop his head. "Mm…why are you so comfortable?"

Bofur grinned, his eyes shut. "I was just thinkin' the same about you, love. You're the perfect height for a chin rest." His grin turned a bit cheeky when he felt Bilbo lightly smack his arm. "Once I'm out o' this cell, the first chance I get, I'm going t' give you a proper snuggle. I might not let go o' you for a few days, though."

"That just means you'll have to carry me everywhere, I'll have you know."

"I don't mind. Gives me practice for when we get back t' Bag End an' I need to carry you over the threshold." Peeking down at his love, he could see that Bilbo's face was as red as his jacket.

"And just what makes you think I'll let you do that?" he pouted.

He snorted, his brow rising. "Well, I highly doubt you'd be able t' lift my sorry arse, let alone carry it over a threshold." Leaning over, he nuzzled his cheek with his nose. "At least you won't be in a dress, as lovely as you'd look in one."

As hard as he tried, Bilbo was unable to stop himself from laughing. "I think you'd look far better in a wedding dress."

"Hmm…No, I don't think so. I don't think anyone would want t' see that much chest hair pokin' out o' the neckline of a dress. Not even myself an' I'm quite proud o' my chest hair, just so you know."

"Alright, that's enough, you two," Fili told them, his nose scrunched up in distaste. "No one wants t' hear about your chest hair, Bofur, least of all if it's pokin' out of a wedding dress."

Bofur puffed his chest out proudly. "You're just jealous that I've got more hair on my chest than you."

"You do not!"

"The hair on your chest is as sparse as the beard on Kili's face, Fili!" Ori laughed.

"Oi! My beard's been fillin' in—Fili's chest hasn't, though!" Kili pouted.

"My hair's blonde, so it's harder t' see!" Fili argued.

Bilbo smacked his forehead as the dwarves started arguing about who had the most hair on their chest. "Yavanna help me, what did I start?" he murmured with a sigh.