Chapter 11: A Very Valuable Prisoner

Bilbo looked up sharply at the elf king's words. Thranduil in return looked slightly awed and to the shock of the other elves and Thorin, the elf bowed his head to the hobbit.

"Father," Legolas said, stepping forward and drawing his sword slightly. "What do you mean Chosen of the Valor?" Thranduil stood up and pushed down his son's hand and the blade slid back into its sheath.

"Do not dishonor him. He could kill us all before even I could do anything."

Thorin, seeing the similarity between the King's words and Gandalf's words, decided to speak up. "Bilbo, what are they talking about? You told us about your… talent," He said, deciding not to reveal the hobbit's power to the elves. "But what is this about the Valor?" Bilbo sighed, hoping that no one noticed how he was swaying back and forth - this forest was killing him! Before he could begin to speak, the King of the Elves spoke up, his eyes clouded.

"Your hobbit, who you seem to be very close to, is much more important than one would think a gentle creature from the north could be. He is, in fact, the key to changing the world." Thranduil said as he began to walk around the room, a contemplative look on his face. "The Valor choose one being every decamillineum to represent them here on Middle Earth. They are powerful, they are important, and they would be a very very valuable ally. If one were to control this person of power, why," Thranduil spun around, a smirk on his face, "no one would dare go against him!"

Bilbo closed his eyes tightly and pressed his hands hard against the floor, trying desperately to keep the room from spinning.

Legolas, a wary look in his eyes, approached his king. "Father, if this man is truly as powerful as you say he is, you can't possibly think to hold him here against his will. And if the Valor sent him here now, with the dwarves, then could it be that we should let-"

"No!" Thranduil yelled, causing his son to stumble back a few feet in shock. "You do not tell me what to do! I am king, and my will shall be carried out, as I say it, EXACTLY how I say it." He turned to one of the guards. "Take our two, very valuable guests to separate cells - make sure that they are far apart."

"Father!" Legolas said, trying once again in vain to appeal to his father.

"That is enough, Legolas," The ancient elf said.

Thorin, who had been watching the conversation with a bemused expression on his face, finally chose to speak up when several guards began to surround Bilbo.

"You can't just keep us here!" He roared, shrugging off the elves who attempted to grab his arms.

"I can, and I will!" Thranduil yelled back. The rooms attention was drawn to the guards surrounding the hobbit. One roughly grabbed his arms and forced Bilbo to his feet, causing his skin to take on a sickly grey pallor. The Wind suddenly rushed into the hall and threw the elf back, throwing him against a wall, where he crumpled and lay unmoving on the floor. Bilbo fell down and Thorin took advantage of the elves shock by rushing to his love's side.

"Bilbo," he whispered, cradling the hobbit's head in his lap. Bilbo's eyes fluttered before opening at the sound of his name being called.

"Thorin, I don't feel so good," he breathed out, causing the dwarf's eyebrows to crease in worry.

"I know, ghivashel, I know."

"The trees, they need help, but I don't know how to help them! It's coming for them, Thorin, please you have to help me!" Bilbo's words became more frantic and urgent as he spoke and Thorin ran his fingers through his hair in a vain attempt to calm him down.

"Shh, ghivashel, you have to block them out! They are only hurting you!"

"I can't, Thorin, I can't! They call to me, they want to be safe but he's turning them dark! I can't stop him, I don't know how, please Thorin!" Tears of frustration started to leak out of Bilbo's hazy eyes, but before Thorin could do anything he was roughly pulled away from his hobbit and restrained by no less than a dozen guards as he tried to make Thranduil listen.

"Please! You have to get him out of the forest, it's killing him! Just let him go!" But his words fell on deaf ears, and the last thing he saw before he was dragged from the room was a shaking Bilbo whose eyes were pleading for him to help him.

Bilbo wasn't sure when he had passed out but the next thing he knew he awoke in a cell with a thin blanket placed upon him. Shuddering, he pushed the piece of cloth off of him and leaned against the wall for support as he struggled to his feet. When he finally managed to stand up straight, he instantly regretted it. The small cell spun and black dots appeared in his vision. A wave of nausea rolled over him, but he forced down the bile that was rising in his throat. It would do him no good to get sick all over the stone floor.

His head pounded and he stumbled forward a few steps until he was close enough to the bars to be able to press his forehead against the cool metal. He tried to speak to the wind to find out exactly where he was, but the voice screamed in his mind, scrambling his thoughts every few seconds.

"Save us!"

"He's coming! You must defeat him!"

"It's dark, so dark!"

"We can't breathe - CAN'T BREATHE!"

"HELP US!"

"BE QUIET!" Bilbo screamed, his voice echoing in the dark cavern. "Please!" And for a blissful moment, everything was silent.

The wind rushed in and engulfed Bilbo in an embrace, whispering encouragement in his ear. "I need to get us out of here, so you have any ideas?" Bilbo asked, his voice pleading. "Because there is no way that I would be able to fire-travel myself out, let alone all 14 of us."

The wind danced around the cell, gleefully telling Bilbo her plan. "Sneak out from the cellar? How could that work? It would just bring us deeper into the kingdom." Bilbo tilted his head and laughed at the wind's next words. "Use the barrels? You're a genius, my friend!" The wind preened, the air becoming thicker in the cell.

"Only problem - I'm stuck in this cell." Bilbo yelped when he felt the wind slam into him, causing his eyes to light up. "I'm not an idiot, you know. I think it is understandable that I forgot about most of my abilities." Bilbo crouched down and placed his hand on the ground next to the bars. He could feel the earth thrumming with power, even under layers of metal and evilness, and pushing past the dark that coated this place like a second skin, he called out to it, asking it to help him. No sooner had he thought the words, the ground erupted in a shower of dirt and rock and Bilbo dove back towards the end of his cell, covering his head.

When the dust cleared, all that remained of the thought to be unbreakable bars were small shards of metal and holes where the poles had been fixed into the earth. "Thank you," he whispered.

Stepping out of the cell and away from The Wind, Bilbo staggered, the voices reappearing, hammering around his mind. The wind quickly rushed forward and wrapped around the hobbit, forcing the evil back. "That was stupid of me," Bilbo murmured and the wind nudged him as if to say, 'you think?'

Sticking to the shadows, Bilbo walked through the palace, his movements rigid, as if he hadn't moved his muscles in years. How long had he been sleeping?

Bilbo was sure he would have gotten lost a dozen times if the wind hadn't been telling him where to go. The kingdom seemed to go on forever, a maze of endless corridors, winding staircases and vacant rooms.

Finally, Bilbo reached the cellar, where he overheard two elves - who, judging by their uniforms, were guards.

"The king is throwing a feast tonight," The first one said.

"Yes, I heard that the wine is supposed to be centuries old!"

The first one smirked. "That it is - and guess who managed to snag some?"

The second elf's head shot up, his eyes widening. "You got some?"

"Three bottles!" he said, pulling them out from under the table. "Would you like a drink?"

Several glasses later, both elves were passed out, snoring, their heads pressed hard against the table. Bilbo, despite the seriousness, couldn't help but shake his head in disappointment. A hobbit could have drunk three times that and still managed to remember every single one of their relatives names, ages, and favorite food. Who knew elves were lightweights?

Creeping forward, he snagged the keys from the waist of one of the elves and moved to go up the stairs, before turning around and walking back to the elves' side. "I apologize for this, but it wouldn't do for you to wake up and sound the alarm." He grabbed a bottle in each hand and smashed them down on the heads of the elves, ensuring that they would stay knocked out.

Smirking, he allowed the wind to lead him, taking enough turns that Bilbo's head started to spin, until, finally, they reached the armoury. In a secluded corner lay all of the company's weapons and Bilbo couldn't help but be impressed by their collection, even if it didn't compare at all to his own. Working carefully, he grabbed as many as he could, making sure to grab at least one of everyone's weapons.

Bilbo strapped Dwalin's twin axes, Grasper and Keeper across his back, Thorin's sword Orcrist down the middle, Kili's bow slung across a shoulder. Once he was certain he could get all that he could carry, he grabbed a bag and stuffed his weapons into it, knowing that there was no way he could have carried them on his person.

He began to run back down the stairs, wincing at every clang the weapons made. Bilbo knew that his escape was bound to have been discovered by now, but stealthiness wasn't a priority at the moment - speed was.

He reached Balin's cell first, and just about gave the old dwarf a heart attack when he snuck up to the bars and unlocked the door.

"Bilbo!" Balin said, rushing to grasp his hands tightly. "It's good to see you, lad. How did you escape?"

Bilbo smiled, handing the dwarf his weapons. "It's great to see you, too, Balin. But, I think that the story will have to wait for some other time, don't you?"

"Quite right, lad. Elven dungeons aren't the best place to tell stories."

Bilbo laughed and continued letting the dwarves out of the prisons, his smile growing wider at the reunion of each family. Leaving the Company in the cellar with the reminder to be quiet, Bilbo ran up stairs and around corners until the wind told him to stop.

In front of him was the cell that held the last member of their group.

Thorin sat with his back against the bars, his head leaned back and his eyes shut. Bilbo was surprised to see the tear marks on Thorin's face and winced at the frown that marred his usually handsome features. Well, that wouldn't do.

Thorin couldn't get Bilbo out of his head. Normally this wouldn't be a bad thing, but a single image had plagued the dwarf king's mind, leaving him unable to sleep. Thorin was haunted by the last time he had seen Bilbo. His eyes had been so scared - Bilbo was never scared! - and Thorin hadn't been able to help him.

"Why the long face Thorin? While this is no place for a king to be sleeping, I've known you've seen worse." The dwarf king leapt to his feet, reaching for a weapon that wasn't there as he whirled around to face the being who spoke. He gasped at the figure that stood there. Thorin had no idea how Bilbo was here. He stood shocked for several seconds, hoping against hope that he was actually there and wasn't just a figment of his imagination, but as soon as he saw the hobbit smile, he couldn't help but smile back. "Bilbo!" he whispered, and Thorin wondered how he managed to wrangle the keys away from the elves but he didn't bother asking just yet because as soon as the prison door was unlocked he pushed it open and pulled Bilbo in.

Thorin held Bilbo tightly against him, only loosening his hold to catch the hobbit's lips in a kiss that was much different than the last one they shared. This one was rough, full of teeth gnashing and bruised lips and reassurances that the other was okay, that the other was there, that they both were alive.

Bilbo pulled back first, his breath coming out in gasps. "We really need to get back to the others," he managed to say, and Thorin couldn't help but smirk at being able to fluster the usually eloquent hobbit so easily. The two were about to run off when Bilbo suddenly remembered something and reached over his shoulder. "I believe that this is yours," he said, pulling the elven sword off of his back and presenting it to Thorin, who hooked it to his side. The dwarf king was rather shocked at how much the familiar weight of the weapon calmed him down. The two raced through the halls, being careful to avoid the few elves that were roaming the halls.

Bilbo was surprised that some alarm hadn't been set off yet - surely someone had noticed that all the prisoners were missing.

~ TIME SKIP OF ABOUT 10 MINUTES ~

Bilbo helped the last dwarf get into a barrel and smiled grimly, causing Thorin to look up at him, alarmed.

"Bilbo," the king started warningly, but the hobbit only smiled.

"I'll meet you in just a few seconds." Bilbo walked over to the lever at grasped it firmly with both hands. "Oh, and hold your breath." Bilbo pulls the lever, and the part of the floor that the barrels were on tilts downward into an opening; the barrels roll out the opening and fall several feet into a river that runs beneath the Woodland Realm. The dwarves yell as they fall, and the barrels make loud thumping noises. The elves sleeping around the table stir and begin to wake up. Bilbo cast them weary looks before pulling the lever once more. He catches sight of a dwarf with red hair at the stairs, several other elves at her back, and waves cheerily at them. "I am most disappointed with my stay in Mirkwood, please inform your king that I have no plans of ever returning." Bilbo ran and slid, just making it through the opening before it closed. He aimed for one of the empty barrels and landed squarely in it, causing him to groan as his feet slam into the barrel bottom. Sending the others a smile, the hobbit held his hand above the water. The liquid swelled and pushed all of the barrels out from under the kingdom and into the sunlight. Bilbo catches sight of a waterfall in front of them and curses, Thorin doing the same a few barrels over.

"Hold on!" Thorin yelled. Bilbo flipped out of his barrel as the wood hit a high rock and he sputtered, grabbing onto the robe that was wrapped around its side.

The dwarves, Bilbo, and the barrels plunge through the rapids, and Bilbo winces every time his submerged slam against a rock, but he doesn't allow himself to pay mind to it.

The hobbit's only thoughts were focused on the barrels. It took all of his concentration and a considerable amount of power to control the river so that none of the dwarves were hurt in the rapids. Water was the hardest element to control, being that it was always trying to break free - it wanted to go every where and it hates being restrained. Bilbo's heart was racing and his head kept going underwater and he kept losing his grip on the barrel. A few times he fell and his head went under water. The hobbit opened his eyes and couldn't help but think that water really was quite remarkable. Bilbo was jerked out of his peaceful musings when a hand fisted in the back of his coat and wrenched him up and out of the water, where Bilbo gasped in breaths of air.

"You are not getting away from me that easily," Thorin said as he hauled Bilbo into a nearby barrel.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Bilbo gasped out, his eyes fogged as he argued with the river. Water was stubborn.

Bilbo caught sight of a regiment of elves racing alongside them and almost growled. Why couldn't one of his plans at least work out the way they were supposed to?

"Shut the gate!" Bilbo glared at the back of Legolas' head, wishing that the prince would just be kind and let them escape, instead of making things more difficult. An elf with him blows on a horn; as the dwarves round a corner in the river, they see a guardpost built above the river. The heavily armored elves standing guard there hear the horn and come to attention; one of them pulls a lever, causing a heavy metal sluice gate to block the river. The dwarves in their barrels come to a stop at the gate, unable to float further.

"No!" Thorin roars, his voice full of rage, and Bilbo can only agree. The barrels pile into each other; the elven guards draw their swords, but one is suddenly shot in the back with a black arrow. Several growling orcs swarm over the guardpost, killing the elves. Dozens of orcs run out from the bushes and Bilbo was seriously beginning to wonder which of the Valor hate him.

"Slay them all!" Bolg, the son of Azog. yelled in Black Speech. The orcs begin throwing themselves at the dwarves in their barrels; all of the dwarves draw their weapons and fight off the orcs, each of them getting scraped up.

Kili looked up and saw the lever the elven guard had pulled earlier. He hands Fili his bow, even though he knows his brother is much better with a sword. "Cover me," he said, leaping out of his barrel before Fili can try and talk him out of it. Only when he reached the stairs does he realize that he left his sword in the bottom of his bucket. He ducks under a swing from an orc, but the sword shifts and cuts him across his cheek.

"Kili!" Dwalin grabbed the young prince's sword and throws it to Kili, who then fights his way to the top of the stairs. As Kili fights an orc, another one leaps up from behind him, raising its spear to stab him. Fili drops the bow into his barrel, not wanting to risk hitting his brother and instead throws a dagger. The blade sails through the air, burying itself in the orc's head, killing it instantly. As Kili reaches for the lever, a black arrow sails towards Kili's unprotected back. Fili knows that there is no way that he could hit the moving arrow from where he was and can only watch in shock as the weapon flies towards his little brother.

Suddenly, a column of water shoots up out of the river, blocking the arrow just seconds before it would have hit Kili.

"Kili!" Bilbo shouts as he decapitates an orc. "Pull that damn lever and then get back down here!"

"Yes, sir!" Kili leaps at the lever, slamming it down and the gate opens, causing the river to begin to pull the barrels - and the dwarves - further downstream. Kili jumps off the platform and lands into an empty barrel.

"Nice job," Bilbo yells, staring at the churning water, sweat on his brow. Kili smiles.

An orc jumps from an overhanging tree branch toward Balin, but Thorin throws his sword and pins the orc to the tree; as the orc drops its weapon, Thorin catches it while floating beneath him, and he throws back to Bombur, who throws it to Nori, who throws it to Fili, who kills an orc with it. An orc leaps onto Dwalin barrel, only for Dwalin to headbutt it off and slice into it with his axe. The dwarves see a low-hanging tree branch stretched across the river in front of them, with several orcs on it.

"Cut the log!" Thorin yelled, As he floats under it, Thorin hits it with his sword, then Bofur hits it with his weapon, and Dwalin, right behind him, hits the branch with his axe, breaking it and causing the orcs on it to fall into the river.

"Bombur!" Dwalin throws one of his axes to Bombur, who kills an orc that had just jumped onto his barrel. The Orc's spear ends up pinning it to an overhanging tree branch; the other end of the spear catches onto Bombur's barrel and catapults it through the air and onto the riverbank, where the barrel rolls and tramples multitudes of orcs. The barrel flips through the air to the other side of the river, where it tramples more orcs. Eventually, the barrel comes to a stop, and orcs surround it. Before they can attack it, Bombur kicks out the bottom, then sticks his arms holding axes through the sides. He then starts spinning rapidly with the axes extended, mowing down all the orcs around him. He then runs toward the river, tosses his axe to one of the floating dwarves, then gracefully jumps into an empty barrel.

The elves manage to kill the rest of the orcs and Legolas decides to not continue chasing them and instead orders Tauriel to bring the remaining Orc back to Mirkwood with them.

The Company continues to float down the river with Bilbo occasionally steering them away from any rocks that could have capsized them. The river calmed, and the barrels floated over to riverbank. Bilbo stumbled out and sat down heavily on a log, his eyes tightly shut. The voices were still there, but fainter.

Please, he whispered to them, I will help you when I can but I don't know how yet! Just, please, be quiet.

Slowly the voices receded to the depths of his mind. Bilbo let out a sigh and allowed his head to drop into his hands, his headache fading to a dull throb instead of a pounding sensation.

A body sat down next to him and, wincing at the bright light, Bilbo looked up into the face of Thorin.

"Yes?"

"Bilbo," the king began. "I would like to thank you for saving us from the elven dungeons."

Bilbo couldn't help but snort. "Well, it wouldn't do to allow you all to rot away in there. You do have a home to reclaim, don't you?"

Thorin's eyes shone, with what, Bilbo wasn't sure, but it made his breath catch in his throat all the same. "You are the most magnificent being I have ever met," he said, leaning towards the hobbit.

"You can't have met many hobbits then, have you?" Bilbo breathed out, leaning in as well.

"No, I haven't." Bilbo erased the distance between the two by capturing the dwarves lips in a searing kiss, sending electricity down his body. Thorin reached up and cupped Bilbo's cheek, running a finger along his eyelid, while Bilbo tangled his fingers in the dwarf's hair, pulling lightly at the nape and causing the king's mouth to fall open in a soft moan. Bilbo smiled into the kiss and Thorin pulled back slightly, his eyes searching Bilbo's face before he nodded and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small leather pouch.

"You, Bilbo Baggins-Took," Thorin whispered, breath tickling the hobbit's lips, "are the light that shines through the dark, that causes even Mithril to pale in comparison, that makes it's home in my heart. You are my One, I love you with everything I have. Will you allow me to court you?"

Bilbo's eyes widened and a small smile graced his features. "Are you certain, Thorin? There are things that you don't know about me, that I can not tell you-"

"Then I will learn them all," Thorin interrupted him. "When you are ready to tell me, I will be here, right next to you. Every secret, every quirk, every hobby, every passion, I want to be able to claim you and be able to yell from the ramparts that Bilbo Baggins-Took is my One, my husband, my life."

Bilbo was sure he was blushing, he could feel the weight of Thorin's words fill his very being and ignite something deep within his chest. "If you will have me, secrets and all, that I will happily court you. For I do believe that I love you as well."

Thorin's smile could have cut through even the coldest of hearts. He reached into the bag in his hands and pulled out two beads. The first was made of stone, inlaid with tiny yet dazzling jewels and the dwarven words for One of My Heart. The second bead was metal and had a crest inlaid with mithril.

Thorin began to weave his fingers through Bilbo's hair, sectioning off a small portion on each side of the hobbit's head. "This bead," Thorin said, referring to the second one. "Has the crest of the House of Durin on it. Because you wear it, it places you under the protection of my family." Seeing Bilbo's slightly confused expression, he elaborated.

"Anyone who dares to try and bring you harm, or attempt to murder you, will have to do so with the knowledge that anything done to you will be taken as treason and the criminal will be tried with the highest penalties of the law."

"The other bead is much more personal." Was Thorin blushing? "It says that you are being courted by a dwarf, me specifically, and that as long as you wear it, you intent to marry me and formally be known as my one - and husband."

Bilbo never once took his eyes off of the dwarf's face, watching as the gentle emotions had flashed across it. As soon as Thorin removed his fingers from Bilbo's hair, Bilbo made to pull him in for a kiss, but, sadly, they were disturbed.

The whooping and groaning coming from the rest of the Company had Bilbo chuckling and Thorin's face to go red with anger.

"Ye couldn't 'ave waited until we reclaimed the mountain, Thorin?" Dwalin moaned, tossing a bag each of gold to his brother and Nori.

"Aye, or at least until we reached Erebor?" Bofur sighed as he, too, tossed money to the others.

Bilbo laughed and was about to say something when a man emerged from the forest, an arrow notched in his bow, causing the dwarves to all draw their weapons. Dwalin ran towards the man but an arrow whistled through the air and buried itself in the wood on Dwalin's axe, just centimeters from his fingers.

"Do it again, and you're dead."

Bilbo just sighed, shaking his head. "Why do people always have to threaten us like that?"