AN: I have returned! So here's the next chapter! Introducing Thorin! Although, I will say, that I kinda hate my Thorin. At least for the first couple of chapters he's in. Then he gets better. Probably. Maybe. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

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"What are you doing?" Bilbo froze in his steps, feeling as though his stomach had turned to pure lead and dropped right to the floor. He couldn't even will himself to look and see who had caught him. Someone had caught him...with the Arkenstone in his hand. Bilbo bit his lip and pushed his mind to think quickly. Innocence. Feign innocence, that was always the easiest way to avoid imprisonment. He had learned that early on in his career as a thief.

"I found it in the hallway, I was coming to find someone. To return it." He claimed nervously, finally turning to look at whoever it was. It was just his luck that he was face to face with the King of Erebor. King Thorin was tall, for a Dwarf, with thick black hair that had only a few silver strands through it. And the most piercing blue eyes Bilbo had ever seen. The poor Hobbit had thought that Smaug's gaze was the most intense look he'd ever received. But the glare cast on him by the Dwarf King put that to shame. Bilbo held out his hand with the Arkenstone and Thorin slowly walked up to him.

"You found it." He stated, his voice assuring Bilbo that he did not believe him. "Which hallway did you find it in?" Thorin asked, taking the gem from Bilbo's small hands.

"It was two hallways over, it was pushed into a nook in the wall, but I saw it shining and figured you were probably looking for it." He did his best to sound like a humble subject and not a guilty thief. And for a second, he thought he'd have a chance. Maybe he could distract Thorin and run. He was so close to the gate. But then footsteps came from behind him, and a glance over his shoulder revealed two strong Dwarves were baring the way, watching their King for any signal.

"The problem with that story is that we searched all these hallways. Thoroughly." Thorin sounded almost patronizing.

"Maybe you just missed it. I mean, it was pretty well hidden and I have very good eyesight." Oh please don't let them kill me. What would happen to mother if I were to die here? Bilbo looked up at Thorin with the most innocent face he could muster. And being a Hobbit, he could make some pretty unassuming faces. They had gotten him out of trouble several times before.

"How did you get in the mountain?" Thorin wasn't buying his innocence, not for a second. He stepped forward and Bilbo stepped back, just out of instinct.

"T-Through the door." Bilbo stumbled a bit over his words, really getting nervous now. All his words and pleading looks were doing nothing to ease the glare he was receiving. And he couldn't very well fight the Dwarves with his weapons hidden away in the spare room. He knew he should have brought a dagger with him. Hand to hand combat wasn't his finest suit, and he was much weaker than these Dwarves. Not to mention there were three of them and only one of him. It was not going to be easy to escape a Dwarven made dungeon. If they even put him in the dungeon. They might just kill him. He hoped they didn't kill him. He had to go home, to his mother. She only had so much gold left to take care of herself with.

"Every person who enters the mountain is brought before me in my throne room. And I have never seen a Halfling before this moment. You should start telling the truth, Thief. Maybe I will be more inclined to spare your life." The King growled. Bilbo pressed his lips together, deciding he would not say anything more. He would not incriminate himself, and these Dwarves couldn't make him. The King glared down at him for a long moment before nodding to the two Dwarves behind Bilbo. Before the Hobbit could even think to run or slip around the guards, they each had one of his arms, and they were carting him off down the hall.

He writhed in their grips, and did the best he could to break away from them. At one point he managed it, and started running, but he didn't get far. In the end, he was pretty useless without a weapon. So much for being the Great Barrel Rider. Best thief and assassin West of the Misty Mountains. Though, it wasn't only his fault. All his luck had apparently run out, and now the Valar seemed to be having more fun laughing at him that anything else.

"He's got some fight to him." One of the beefy Dwarves that was towing him along spoke over his shoulder, and it was only then that Bilbo realized King Thorin was following after the three of them. "More than you'd expect from a runt." The Dwarf added with a sneer. Bilbo snarled at him and aimed a well placed kick to the Dwarf's knee. The Dwarf went down, but Bilbo didn't have time to relish his tiny victory. Thorin grabbed him by his collar, nodding off the other two Dwarves, and he continued marching the Hobbit forward.

"You continue to make this worse for yourself Thief." He leered down at his prisoner.

"Do you treat all strangers like this, Oh King of Erebor?" Bilbo growled. He was finding it harder to fight one Dwarf than it was to fight two. Thorin kept him in front of his body, pushing him forward. He stayed well away from Bilbo's arms and legs, with a practiced efficiency.

"Only the Thieves and Liars." Thorin deadpanned. "Struggle all you like. It will get you no where." Bilbo believed his words. Really he did. But it wasn't in his nature to go down without a fight. Especially since he had gotten so close! So close to succeeding and earning his greatest reward yet. So close to giving his mother everything she ever wanted and more. So close to restoring his family to their high pedestal that had collapsed from beneath them, starting in the Fell Winter. In his mind, Bilbo thought how fitting it was that his fall should be during Winter. Just like his father, but definitely less honorably than Bungo.

They entered the surprisingly empty dungeon, and Thorin put his prisoner in the very last cell. It was small, very small, but that didn't mean it would be any easier to escape from. He tossed Bilbo through the doorway, smirking cruelly when the Hobbit tripped over his feet and ended up sprawled across the cold stone floor. Thorin took a minute to observe the boy. He was so small, but there was definite muscle to his body. He appeared to use what little strength he had to good effect, but Thorin could tell he wasn't lethal until he had a weapon. And Thorin could also tell that beneath his anger, there was a deep sadness in him.

"What is your name, Thief?" He demanded. Might as well start interrogating him now.

"You seem so happy calling me Thief. I would hate to disappoint you." He was still so spirited, even though he was caught. Some would call it idiotic, but Thorin had to admit to being intrigued, and maybe a bit impressed. Such life, such purpose. There was more than met the eye to this boy. Even if he was a Thief. Bilbo picked himself up from the floor and tucked himself into the corner of the room. It was a defense, Thorin could tell. He was making himself small.

"Who sent you into Erebor for the Arkenstone?" Thorin didn't believe for a second that it was personal. He'd never met a Hobbit in his life, and unless his relatives had done something to offend this boy, he could see no reason why a Hobbit would want the Heart of the Lonely Mountain. And yet, he'd been sent into Erebor for the King's Jewel, nearly succeeding.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I am here for perfectly legal reasons. And I wasn't stealing the Arkenstone, I was returning it." Thorin rolled his eyes. The boy was good. He wouldn't be incriminating himself, or anybody else. Even though they all knew he was in fact guilty. He wouldn't speak, at least not without some pressure being put on him.

"I have a friend, his name is Dwalin. He specializes is death. Quick death, long agonizing deaths. He also specializes in pain. If you do not start speaking, I'm afraid I will have to ask him to get information from you." Thorin doubted he could actually let anyone hurt the Hobbit, but he could threaten all day long. The fact was, the boy looked too frail and thin for his own good. The muscle he had noticed was not enough to hide the fact that he was malnourished and sleep deprived. It wouldn't be right to torture an already weak body like this.

"Boy Erebor is not as friendly as they say it is." Bilbo muttered, dropping his head back against the wall. The light of the torches lit up his face in such a way that Thorin lost his words for a moment. He was truly a fair boy, and Thorin felt a bit bad for him. Whatever circumstances led him to being in this position, they couldn't be good. They had put a deep shadow over his face, one that could be seen in the lack of smile lines and the darkness beneath his eyes.

"My Kingdom is just. As such, you will be punished for your crimes."

"What crimes? What have I stolen? Search me, I have not one gold coin on my body. And unless you can prove that I took the Arkenstone, and was not simply returning it, then this is all wrongful imprisonment and mistreatment of a stranger." Bilbo finally shouted, but managed to sound calm enough by the end of his tirade. Thorin scowled at him, recognizing the logic, but he was sure the Halfling was guilty.

"You will remain in these dungeons until you tell me what I wish to know." He growled before turning on his heel and leaving. The thick door to the dungeon slammed shut with all the noise and power of a catapult, leaving Bilbo completely alone.

OOOOO

Bilbo was having no luck with escaping. Dwarves knew the crafting of metal better than any other race on Middle Earth. It made sense that their dungeon would be foolproof. There were no faults, no warps in the frame, no gaps he could exploit. The only way out of his little prison would be with the key, and there were only two of those. Thorin held one, he held one of every key in Erebor. And the Master Lawkeeper held the other. Dwalin, Thorin's friendly neighborhood torturer, was in fact the enforcer of the law. But he had been a fierce warrior at one point in time, and Bilbo did not doubt that he had extensive knowledge of death and pain. Dwalin was the one who checked on him three times a day, to make sure he was still there.

"I thought you were supposed to torture me, not check on me." Bilbo called out after the fifth time Dwalin stood in front of his cell door. The Dwarf, who had been retreating back out of the dungeon, stopped instantly and turned back to him.

"I have neither orders nor the desire to torture yeh. Yeh would probably die before I could get any information." He spat, and Bilbo wasn't sure whether to be insulted or flattered. Dwalin left him in the silence of the dungeons again, and Bilbo sighed. He knew it was a destructive line of thought, but he couldn't help but think of his mother. How long would she last after the gold he left with her ran out? Not long. She could hardly sit up some days. She would have no way to make more money for herself, and no way to keep her health stable. The medicine and opiates that Bilbo gave her kept her alive. Not anywhere near healthy, but alive.

When Thorin strode into the dungeon he found his prisoner with his head in his hands, and his shoulders shaking ever so slightly. The Dwarf King didn't quite know what to make of the sight. The Thief had been so strong and self assured when Thorin had thrown him into his cell. It hadn't yet been two days, and he was not expecting to find the Hobbit weeping quietly. He stared silently at the boy before him for a good deal of minutes before he recovered from his shock and cleared his throat to announce his presence.

"What?" Bilbo's voice was muffled, because he couldn't be bothered to raise his head from his hands.

"Who do you weep for? Yourself or your employer?" Thorin spoke harshly, intent on using this opportunity to get some information.

"I'm not crying." Bilbo scoffed, raising his face at last. And it was true. His face was dry, and his eyes were only red from exhaustion. "I'm freezing." He snapped when Thorin looked confused. The Dwarf King finally took notice of the way it wasn't just his shoulders shaking, but his entire body. Inside the mountain it often felt like winter, even when it was summer outside. And in the winter, it could be hazardously cold. The dungeons were especially cold, with no insulation of any kind to help. Not to mention that the Thief was wearing thin, light clothes that would be useful when stealing, but terrible to keep his body warm.

Thorin never felt particularly charitable when dealing with criminals, and he was especially reluctant to help a Thief who would have vanished with the Arkenstone given half a chance. But he could get no information from the boy if he froze to death. With narrowed eyes he stalked off to collect a few blankets for his prisoner, in hopes that a bit of kindness would loosen his tongue. After Thorin knew what he needed to know, he could always take the blankets away. Criminals deserved no kindness, but potential informers could use a pinch of generosity.

"Here." Thorin thrust the blankets through the bars of the cell and they landed near the Thief. He'd brought three of them, all lined with the finest of furs and warmest of wools. Bilbo eyes him warily and then the blankets, but another shiver wracked his thin frame and he relented, pulling the closest blanket around his shoulders. He was probably unaware of the heart wrenching sigh of relief that escaped his lips at the slow warmth that the blanket brought him. But Thorin heard it all too clearly. "Anything else?" Thorin sounded bitterly sarcastic, but his request was genuine enough. He had to keep the boy alive, at least until he knew who he worked for.

"Some water would be appreciated." Thorin realized with a bit of guilt that he hadn't approved food and water for his newest prisoner. Dwalin hadn't mentioned anything about it, but he had seen the look his friend had given him just before Thorin entered the dungeon. At the time Thorin had brushed it off, but now he realized it was judgment. Thorin had fed even murderers in his dungeons, before their executions. And he had been withholding such necessities from this boy, for two days now.

The thought made him angry, but it was mostly anger with himself. He left the dungeon again, but this time he didn't return. Dwalin did, with a tray of porridge and a flask of water, but Thorin did not make a reappearance. Dwalin couldn't help but watch as the sole prisoner in Erebor desperately guzzled the water brought to him. But he only ate half the porridge offered to him.

"Aren't yeh hungry? I was told to bring yeh as much as yeh want." Dwalin stated when Bilbo pushed the tray back through the gap at the bottom of the cell door.

"I'm used to living without food. But if I could have more water, I would appreciate it." Dwalin was a bit confused by the manners of this Thief, but nodded gruffly anyways. He returned with a full water skin that Bilbo drained just as quickly as he had the flask. Dwalin would have to relay his findings to his King. He took the empty water skin and left to do just that. Inadvertently leaving the dungeon unsupervised and allowing two mischievous Dwarflings to slip inside.

"Hello." Bilbo was a surprised by the cheerful voice he heard, and he looked up faster than was probably called for. There were two young Dwarf boys sitting in front of his cell door, one with golden blond hair, and the other with dark chestnut brown hair. The brunette was younger than the blond, Bilbo could tell, but they both had the aura of mischief to them.

"Hello." Bilbo replied cautiously.

"I'm Fili. This is my brother Kili." The blond told him with a wide smile. "We've been waiting for Dwalin to wander off for ages!" He added.

"Are you really a Hobbit? Balin taught us about Halflings in our studies, but we never thought we'd actually see one." Kili stated boldly. "He said Hobbits don't usually leave the Shire. And that's a long ways away." He pointed out.

"Yes, well...most Hobbits don't leave the Shire." Bilbo admitted.

"Will you tell us about it?" Fili asked with big eyes.

"Yeah, what's it like there?" Kili's eyes had to be at east the size of saucers. Bilbo considered telling them to go away, but they were being so kind to him. And they looked honestly eager to hear about the Shire and Hobbits. Neither seemed to mind the fact that he was in a cell in the dungeons.

"Uh...the Shire is beautiful. There's green rolling hills and lovely little rivers. It's peaceful and full of light and color. But, like all cities, there's parts of it that are not as nice. The woods are cold and lonely and some winters are brutal." He explained, frowning a bit.

"What about the Hobbits? What are you like?" Fili asked, apparently unconcerned by the poorer side of the Shire.

"Oh, there are some Hobbits that are the sweetest beings on Middle Earth. They enjoy the finer things in life, like good food and a warm hearth and manners. And there are some Hobbits that prefer to gossip and take advantage of every situation, but for the most part, we're really a very peaceful race." Oh how he missed Hamfest and Daisy in this moment. They were the best Hobbits he every met, as well as Primula and Drogo. However he wouldn't miss the Sackville-Bagginses, even if he never got to get back at them.

"You must miss them." Kili cooed softly. "The good Hobbits, not the nasty ones. Why did you leave the Shire, it sounds wonderful?"

"Well, it's like I said...not all of it is so beautiful." Bilbo smiled, but it wasn't the warm smile that took over his face minutes ago as he talked about his home and friends.

"Uncle Thorin said that you tried to take the Arkenstone. But, we thought Hobbits weren't Thieves." Fili blurted out, and Bilbo looked at the two of them with big eyes.

"Your uncle is the King?" He squeaked. They nodded, blushing a bit. "You have to leave. If he finds you in here with me you could get in a lot of trouble." He urged desperately. The last thing he needed was to be yelled at by the king for trying to corrupt his nephews.

"Yes, you could be in terrible trouble." They all three froze as Thorin appeared from the open dungeon door. Thorin pointed his glare at his nephews, who scrambled away in perfect sync, calling apologies over their shoulders to their uncle, and surprisingly, to Bilbo as well. The Hobbit brought his knees to his chest, his defense mechanism coming out again, and he watched Thorin carefully as the intimidating King took the space of his nephews. "I was told you rejected the food given to you." He said bitterly.

"I couldn't eat all of it." Bilbo whispered back. He hadn't expected Thorin to sound offended by his inability to eat the whole bowl of porridge. "I'm sorry." He murmured when Thorin didn't stop glaring. It felt odd to apologize for such a thing. And indeed, his apology did earn him a raised eyebrow from the Dwarf King.

"I thought Hobbits ate proportionally larger meals than any other race, and more frequently than any other race as well." Thorin said suspiciously.

"It is as I told Dwalin. I am used to living without food." He said stubbornly.

"In the less lovely parts of the Shire, from what I understand." Bilbo didn't look at him. He knew Thorin had probably been listening to his words when he spoke to Fili and Kili. He meant to give nothing about himself, or his job, away. But Thorin was more clever than Bilbo initially thought. "Is that why you tried to take the Arkenstone? So you would not have to live in poverty and hunger?" Thorin bit when Bilbo remained silent. "Or perhaps you wanted to leave the Shire all together. The money you would get from trading the Arkenstone would certainly be enough to create a new life anywhere you chose."

"Like anyone would trade for the Arkenstone." He scoffed. "Isn't it holy to you Dwarves? Surely everyone in Middle Earth knows that."

"Then why were you stealing it?" Thorin practically yelled.

"I was not stealing the Arkenstone!" Bilbo denied just as fiercely. Thorin glared at him, and he glared right back, for a few long awkward minutes before the Dwarf King sneered and left. Bilbo was prepared to be alone for at least a few hours, and thus was surprised when a fat red haired Dwarf, who he remembered was Bombur, one of the four people he stole from in Dale, ambled into the dungeon with a plate of food about an hour later. "N-No please, I can't possibly eat-"

"You will eat every bite of this food." Thorin commanded, nodding to Bombur, who slid the food into the cell with a curious look at Bilbo. The red head left quickly, shutting the dungeon door behind him. "Go on then. This is the finest food in Erebor, made by the finest chef in the mountain. You will eat it or I will make you eat it." Bilbo opened his mouth to argue, but the key to his cell was in Thorin's hand before he could get a word out. "If I open this door, it will be to restrain you and feed you like a child. Go ahead, make me do it." He challenged. Bilbo swallowed heavily and gingerly scooted closer to the tray of food. He tried to stay as far away from the bars of the cell as possible, but when he tried to move the tray closer to him, Thorin's boot came down hard, stopping it from moving even an inch. "I don't think so. That tray doesn't move, you move."

"Why are you doing this?" Bilbo hissed, glaring hatefully at his captor.

"You are making my life extremely difficult. Do not expect kindness in return. I am keeping you alive for information, which means I actually need you to live. And that means you will eat." Thorin left no room for argument in his tone. Bilbo poured all the hate he was feeling into his glare as he very deliberately speared a piece of fruit on the fork given to him. After a few minutes Bilbo could no longer look at Thorin, mostly because he was starting to feel sick and he didn't want Thorin to see. He was sure that over the years of hunger that he had suffered through, his stomach had shrunk to a terribly small size, and he hadn't been lying when he said he couldn't possibly eat all the porridge he'd been given. Now he was faced with a plate packed full of food.

Bombur was truly a great chef, everything was delicious. But there was so much of it! Three kinds of meat and two servings of mashed potatoes, as well as a bowl of fruit and a bowl of vegetables. Bilbo was barely done with one of the meats, and a fourth of the potatoes and he already thought he might throw everything up. Thorin watched every bite, his presence like a dark cloud that was unflinching.

"Please...I can't eat any more..." Bilbo managed to keep his voice level, but didn't look up at the King. Which made it easy for Thorin to reach through the bars and grab Bilbo by his hair. Bilbo squealed in surprise and flailed as Thorin yanked him up against the bars. The king wrapped his other hand around the Thief's pale throat and waited for Bilbo to stop fighting.

"You will eat...every scrap. Am I understood?" He spoke quietly, but there was the deadliest of threats in his voice. Bilbo tried to calm the harsh beating of his heart, after all, he'd faced people much more dangerous and evil than Thorin Oakenshield. But for some reason, he was more scared now than he'd ever been. Thorin growled lightly and tightened his grip in Bilbo's hair. "I said, am I understood?" He practically shouted.

"I can't...eat...any more." Bilbo choked. Thorin narrowed his eyes to near slits before releasing his hold on the shaking Hobbit. Bilbo recoiled almost to the back of the cell. He hardly caught his breath before his heart jumped to his throat. Thorin unlocked the cell with no feeling on his face, slipping inside and slamming the door behind him. "No, please, I can't-"

"You will." Thorin rumbled advancing on Bilbo even as the Hobbit quivered in the corner. He grabbed Bilbo by the hair again and paid no attention to the short yelps of pain as he pulled the boy back towards the food. Bilbo struggled, ending up being half dragged, until Thorin let go of his hair. He had no time to skitter away, as Thorin pulled him up into a sitting position by grabbing his shirt collar and then pushed him back against the wall. The King carefully cut a bite sized piece of meat and held the fork in front of his pinned prisoners face.

"No." Bilbo shook his head. Thorin growled and cupped his hand around Bilbo's jaw, prying it open until he could shove the food in. He then covered Bilbo's mouth with his hand, making sure he didn't spit it out.

"Chew and swallow or I'll have you whipped." He growled, and he meant it. Bilbo knew he meant it. He willed his stomach to settle and managed to do as he was ordered. Though how long the food would stay down was an entirely different point. They continued like this until the plate was clear of meat, but Bilbo just knew he was going to be sick. Sure enough when Thorin brought a fork full of potatoes to his lips, rather than going down, his stomach heaved and projected all the food he'd eaten back up his throat and all down his front. Thorin jumped back, allowing Bilbo to double over to the side and proceed to empty his stomach of any and all food it had. And while that wasn't much, it was enough that Bilbo was weeping by the time he stopped retching. Thorin was glaring at him, and tossed the fork onto the tray with a loud clang.

"I-I'm sorry, but I tried to tell you-" Bilbo whispered, being cut off by Thorin yelling in Khuzdul. Bilbo didn't understand the word, but he imagined it was either a curse or an order to shut up.

"You don't want the food given to you? Fine. You shall receive none. Nor water." With that Thorin was out of the cell, the lock siding back into place once the door shut. The dungeon door sounded louder than usual as it slammed closed. In the ensuing silence the only sound was that of Bilbo Baggins softly crying as his stomach twisted and his nose suffered from the smell of vomit.

OOOOO

AN: I felt really bad for Bilbo as I was writing this. But what did ya think? Leave a review, if you would be so kind, or if you have questions. I'll see you next week! Thanks for reading!