TWO:

Being driven through the outskirts of Erebor was not what Bilbo had been expecting when he woke up that morning. He had been due to take delivery of a few copies of the new edition of 'Interpretations of Quenyan Fables' for the Mythology Section and was hoping for time for a not-at-all exciting trip to the coffee shop to try the new Cinnamon Maple Latte and a white chocolate and raspberry muffin. Now his cat was dead, he was on the run and he was crammed between Fili and Kili who were making a whole series of unhelpful comments about previous stalker cases that all seemed to have ended rather badly.

It wasn't helping his headache.

"Enough!" Thorin snapped from the driver's seat. "You know nothing of those cases. If you cannot contribute anything of value, be silent!"

"We meant no harm," Kili said in a chastened voice.

"Well, you certainly didn't help Mr Baggins," Balin cut in. "He looks terrified."

"No-Bilbo is just fine," Fili cut in swiftly, nudging Bilbo in the ribs. "He's just a little…"

"Terrified is the right word," Bilbo said quietly. "I'm a Librarian! The most excitement I expect is an argument about the fine for a late return or a coffee mug ring on a book! Maybe even illegal pizza eating among the stacks…not being stalked by a cat murderer!"

"When you put it like that…" Fili conceded as they accelerated through the warehouse district.

"Um…how many of you are there?" Bilbo asked.

"The Company numbers thirteen," Balin explained. "Thorin is our leader. Most of us have been with him since the beginning. Every man is loyal and proven in battle. And we know Smaug's organisation." He paused. "We have three younger members. Ori is our scribe, our intel and IT officer. And Fili and Kili are on probation."

"You really don't say," Bilbo snarked.

"Hey…" Kili protested as Balin started laughing. Glancing up, Bilbo could see Thorin's lips had twitched up in a smile at the comment.

"Dwalin, Dori and Bifur are reliable and seasoned officers with above average combat and tactical capabilities. Bofur and Nori are great at infiltration and handling sources. Bombur has skills with chemicals and explosives, Oin with poisons and medical matters and Gloin is a financial expert with the mind of a forensic accountant. But we are all experienced law enforcement officers and when we pledge ourselves to a mission, we never give up."

Bilbo swallowed, digesting the words. Erebor was a different place to the Shire of his birth, an isolated and insular land of secretive customs, an all-but impenetrable language and stubborn adherence to ancient mores and customs. But Ereboreans were also renowned for being brave, loyal and determined, though most others were prejudiced against them for their wariness of strangers. Bilbo's studies during his degrees had meant he had learnt of some of the sorrows and tragedies that had befallen the old kingdom and in his heart, he couldn't blame them for their caution around strangers.

"That…is reassuring," he admitted as they swept out onto the arrow-straight road towards the west and then he fell silent as Balin and Thorin chatted in Khudzul. Their words were low and serious and though Bilbo could catch most of what was being said, he gave little sign he understood their conversation: most of it was beyond him and technical so he stared at the grey-green landscape that whizzed by as they descended to the lower plains and the small commercial town of Bree. Finally, they sped round the ring road and inserted to the south, sliding through warehouses and lorry parks to a commercial unit marked 'Son of Ur Fabrications.' Finally, they pulled to a halt.

"We're here," Thorin announced and clambered out, marching off and expecting the others to follow. With a sigh, Bilbo trudged after them.

They walked in through a single side door and up a utilitarian flight of creaky metal stairs to an upper level, the groaning of the steps loud in the velvety silence as they rounded the corner…

…and found themselves in a large communal area, with several large couches in a 'U' facing a 50 inch flatscreen television, with a huge farmhouse table pushed to one side with long benches and mismatched chairs providing fourteen seats. A compact kitchen was clustered to the other end of the room with three huge fridge-freezers lined up along one side. Beyond were a series of doors that may be offices but were more likely bedrooms and (hopefully) at least one bathroom. And ranged in the room were nine other shapes who all looked up and rose when Thorin swept. The leader gave a slow nod of greeting as a massive bald-headed man dressed in leathers rose and grinned at Thorin.

"I see ye got here safely then!" Thorin nodded.

"All secure, Dwalin?"

"This location hasn't been compromised but Ori is cycling the CCTV surveillance for any signs of unusual activity," Dwalin reported. "The vehicles are in the workshop. Bifur and Dori have patrol schedules."

"I'm heading out for a reccy," a man with sharp features and an unusual three-pointed star russet hairstyle.

"I'll start lunch," a very portly ginger-haired man said, his long braided beard swinging over his rounded stomach as he walked towards the fridges.

"Get Mister Baggins settled in," Thorin ordered. "Balin, Dwalin, Gloin-with me. We need to review the plan." Bilbo blinked as they swept off in the direction of the bedrooms. The others scattered, most heading downstairs while a friendly-looking officer wearing a floppy hat with a rather ostentatious moustache grinned at him.

"Bofur," he introduced himself. "I know this must be hard for you-but let's get you a cup of tea and then maybe we can have a chat?" He offered a shrug. "We may be here a while." Bilbo wordlessly walked to the nearest couch-a sagging tan leather four-seater that dwarfed his slight frame. He collapsed awkwardly and clutched his plastic bag to his middle.

"A cup of tea would be lovely," he admitted, his face pained. "I-I really never asked for this. I mean…how long does this go on for? Is there a set time? Fili and Kili seemed to think that almost every time one of these happened it all ended…horribly…" Bofur walked to the kettle, spinning around the portly shape of Bombur and sloshing hot water over tea bags in two caffeine-stained mugs. He gave a sympathetic sigh as he vigorously mashed the bags.

"Aye-though we all tend to filter out the lads," he admitted. "Don't get me wrong-their hearts are in the right place-mainly-but they're young and eager and a bit mischievous and they want to impress their Uncle…"

"Uncle?"

"Thorin is their Uncle," Bofur revealed, clumsily fishing out the bags and dumping them on the counter. "Milk?"

"Just a drop, please," Bilbo responded automatically, wincing as Bofur sloshed a huge dollop of full-fat milk in. But he smiled as Bofur walked over and handed him the overflowing mug, taking a way sip. Too mashed, too milky and a bit cool but he persevered because Yavanna, he needed it. "Thanks," he forced himself to say. Then he sighed. "So what happens now?"

"We keep you safe," Bofur reassured him. "And we try to find out what Smaug plans next. And how we can bring him down."

"Who is he?" Bilbo asked quietly, sipping his tea. It was actually really horrible and he was determined to show these officers how to make proper tea but first he needed to drink this cup and settle his nerves a bit more. Bofur looked a little self-conscious.

"Aye-well Thorin is probably the best one to…"

"I'm asking you!" Bilbo snapped, his eyes glittering. "Look, through absolutely NO fault of my own, my life appears to have been snatched away from me and suddenly I'm effectively kidnapped with absolutely nothing except what I have in this bag, my cat is murdered and I don't even know who I'm being threatened by!"

Bofur looked up helplessly. Only Bombur and Ori were there and the clunk of a knife chopping was no comment. The youngest officer glanced up over his computer screen, his dark russet hair in an unfashionable cut, his knitted jumper sagging.

"I'd tell him," he said easily. "The basics, at least. I mean, why doesn't he have the right to understand where he stands?" Bombur hummed from the kitchen as he dumped the copped veg into a huge stewing pan.

"Agreed," he added as Bofur sat back.

"Okay," he said and began.

-o0o-

As the time passed, Bilbo noted the other members of the Company drifting through. Bombur's goulash for lunch had gone down a storm and Bilbo had been struck by the sheer ferocity with which the Company had descended on the food, dispatching the meal with single-minded ferocity and almost no semblance of table manners. It really was a horrible affront to his Shire sensibilities-especially when they all rose the moment the scrape of spoons on bowls had finished and vanished without a word. Sighing, he had gathered up the plates and washed up out of sheer boredom, glancing at the shapes of Ori, Gloin and Oin who were heading for the small room that remained as an office to continue whatever leads they were following up while Bifur, Bofur and Bombur were assigned patrol. Dori and Dwalin were heading down to the workshop with Fili and Kili for training and Nori had already headed out to run through his contacts.

Absently, Bilbo fished in his bag and hauled out his computer, plugging it in and logging onto the WiFi, the code for which was handily thumb-tacked to the wall. Sighing, he switched on and stared at his home screen. The image of his cousins Drogo and Prim and baby Frodo grinned back at him and he ran his fingers through his hair.

"What have I gotten into?" he murmured. "I mean, I know you wanted me to be happy…but I sort of was? Nothing happening, no other close family…but I wasn't being stalked or having my cat murdered. Or having some weirdo leave death flowers all over my home. Why couldn't I just have run into the right person in a coffee shop…or at a Giant Vegetable Show…or even on the bus like normal people? But nooooo…I can talked into online dating because everyone else wants me to be happy and paired off so I can go to dinners and meals and not be the embarrassing and awkward 'odd man out'…" He gave an exasperated snort. "I mean you never complained but every other relative looked at me like I was odd. Or crazy. Or just not a Baggins." He huffed. "But you accepted me for being Bilbo. For being myself, not what everyone else expects. I never wanted to be on that bloody site!"

And he slammed his head onto the table and groaned.

"And I have no idea if I'll ever be able to see you or talk to you again. I have no clue what is happening. This is just a total nightmare. I mean, I have no clothes, nothing to do. I'll probably go crazy here. And this Smaug guy…why did he choose me out of everyone on the site? I mean, there were-are-so much buffer and more interesting guys on there and yet he chooses someone who works in a Library and has a Double Major in Ancient Sindarin and Ancient Quenya? That makes absolutely no sense! And he lied on his profile so he wasn't genuine. I mean…Classical Mythology? Archaeology? Crochet?" He shook his head. "It just makes no sense."

"The laddie's right," Balin murmured from the lobby at the top of the stairs. "It doesn't make sense. Smaug could just have lifted someone from the streets if he wanted a quick fuck…" Thorin folded his arms and gave a curt nod.

"He values life very little," he confirmed. "But this involved a lot of effort on his part…when there are far easier means alleviating his needs."

"You want us to dig?" Balin asked him.

"Mine as if Erebor depended on it," he confirmed. "And double the security. This smells very very off. There's a plan going on here that we don't see." Balin nodded thoughtfully.

"Smaug never does anything without a reason, does he?" he murmured. "And he plans months ahead." Thorin's eyes flicked up to meet his old friend's and he nodded.

"Yes, he does," he breathed. And then he turned and stalked down the stairs as Balin watched him thoughtfully.

"Talk to me, Thorin," he muttered and then shrugged to return to the communal room.

-o0o-

Things got no better when the Company returned in the late afternoon from whatever assignments they had been undertaking. Bilbo found himself crowded and surrounded by a group of loud, boisterous and obviously tight-knit men who had a longstanding understanding and social order than he had no clue about. No one had gone to get him any spare clothes and worse, the sleeping arrangements were definitely going to be communal, since there were only five designated sleeping rooms, all with bunk beds. Two bathrooms with showers were barely adequate for the number of individuals packed in and the television was rapidly monopolised by the Company, who found some Football and crammed themselves onto the couches, the sound up to max and yelling and cheering.

Fed up, miserable and isolated, Bilbo grabbed his possessions and a glass of sparkling water and then made his way to the furthest bedroom from the communal area, plopping down on a single bed by the window and opening his computer. He didn't care what his guardians thought about it because no one had asked what he wanted or offered any consideration for his feelings, despite his horrible day. So he kicked off his shoes, sat cross-legged on his adopted bed (like a rebellious teen, he thought ironically) and slipped in his earbuds. And then he clicked on a playlist of calming Elvish Melodies and opened the latest Ancient Sindarin Book he had downloaded from the University web.

He got lost in the beautiful fables and the flowing ethereal narrative so he didn't notice the light fading or the sounds of yells for dinner. In fact, he wasn't aware of anything until a rough hand shook his shoulder., rudely snatching him from the First Age to meet the annoyed gaze of Thorin. He started, gave a yelp and jerked backwards.

"Gah!"

"Master Baggins-what are you doing in here?" Thorin growled. Bilbo snatched at his tattered composure and felt a curl of annoyance replace his embarrassment.

"Obviously seeking some peace and quiet!" he snapped, causing Thorin to blink in surprise.

"Who told you that you could use this room?" he demanded.

"No one. But this was the quietest and the furthest from your racket!" Bilbo snarked back.

"Which is why it is least suitable!" Thorin growled. "You are isolated and are close to an easy access point…" Bilbo pushed himself to his feet.

"Guess what? I don't care!" he snapped, glaring into Thorin's eyes. "I've been effectively kidnapped by you from my home without so much as a by-your-leave. I have no clothes, no peace and quiet and no one has explained anything properly-Bofur tried but basically what he told me was 'Thorin will explain later'. I've just been dumped here and then you all vanished off. I'm trapped here with thirteen loud, thoughtless people who are treating me as an inconvenience rather than someone who is scared stiff! I am trying not to freak out and literally this is the only time I have been able to feel partway human. So I am staying here with at least some view of the world and a chance for a few minutes of sanity."

Thorin glared at him, a look that could probably freeze molten steel. Then he turned abruptly away.

"Food's ready," he ground out and stormed away.

"I'm not hungry!" Bilbo yelled and flopped down onto his bed, his good mood shattered.

He didn't go through for dinner, though Ori sneaked along twenty minutes later with a plate of roasted chicken, potato, vegetables and gravy. The young IT specialist gave a small smile as he handed over the cutlery.

"You were missed," he offered as he sat on the bunk opposite Bilbo's bed. Bilbo shrugged as he tucked in.

"I very much doubt it," he said bitterly as he shovelled a mouthful of meat in. "I mean, nobody missed me until they looked up at dinnertime, did they?"

There was an awkward pause.

"No," Ori murmured and stared at the floor. "Thorin was furious and chewed us all out. You could have been snatched and lost in that time." Bilbo groaned and rolled his eyes.

"Oh great. Now I get someone checking on me every ten minutes?" he guessed. Ori chuckled.

"Not quite…but we have to keep eyes on you," he warned Bilbo, seeing the other man groan. "And this room is right at the end, close to a potential weak point. It makes you vulnerable."

"Not moving," Bilbo told him firmly. "Maybe if you hadn't had football on loud enough to hear all the way back in the Shire, I would have stayed in the main room." He speared another piece of chicken. "So no. Not moving. I'm staying here. You can tell Thorin. Sorry." He finished the food and handed the plate back. Ori sighed.

"I guessed you wouldn't agree but I had to ask," he sighed. He patted Bilbo on the shoulder. "It's okay," he reassured the Librarian. "It's our problem to sort out. You stay here and…" His eyes widened. "You read Sindarin?" Bilbo nodded.

"Double Major Classics Scholar," he revealed. "That's why I was Librarian at Erebor University. Almost no locals on the Elvish Classics Programme, though there are others who take the course. And no local competition for the post." He shrugged. "Yeah, I'm a real star at dinner parties!" Ori chuckled.

"At least you know what a Dinner Party is," he told the man. "The rest of us…well, no one in their right mind would ever invite a single one of us." He waited.

"Not surprised," Bilbo obliged him. "I mean, if you wanted to go round for a barbecue and football match, then you'd be good. But a Dinner Party?" He shook his head. The young officer gave a small smile as he rose.

"Maybe while you're here, you could give us a lesson?" he suggested. Bilbo stared at him and burst out laughing.

"Yeah-I cannot see Thorin or Dwalin falling over themselves to endorse that," he commented. "Thanks, Ori." The young man shrugged.

"I know what it's like to be the odd man out," he confessed. "They'll get to know you and you'll find they're not as bad as they seem…" Bilbo snorted and turned to look out of the window, waiting before he heard him go. Then he rested his forehead against the glass.

"I just want this nightmare to end," he murmured.