AN: Ollo! Welcome back! Here's more! Also, I don't know Hobbit measurements, so I just put little dashed in the place of numbers. Make up your version of Hobbit anatomy and fill in the blanks, 'kay? Enjoy!
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"Wakey wakey little Hobbit." Bilbo didn't want to wake up. And he certainly didn't want to wake up in the dungeons of Erebor again. He wanted to be home, with his mother. He wanted to have never come to Erebor in the first place. He was such a fool to accept the contract. If the Dwarves didn't kill him, he was sure Smaug would, even if the contract forbade it. He just hoped the dragon would leave his mother alone. Bilbo didn't think Smaug knew where Bilbo lived, though that could be easily remedied by asking any one of the numerous Hobbits in the Shire. Any one of them would be glad to share gossip about the poor Bagginses in their shack in the woods.
"Maybe he's sick. Should we get Oin?" A softer, younger voice asked nervously.
"Nah, he's not sick. Just tired. Rightfully so, I heard Thorin ordered Dwalin ta keep him awake for the last three days! But he passed out last night, and not even Dwalin could rouse him. It's been a few hours though, he should be coming back ta the land of the living." The first, loud and boisterous voice, proclaimed.
"Do you think you could keep your voice down?" Bilbo hissed. His head was throbbing. Three days of being denied sleep wasn't exactly new to the Hobbit, but every time he went more than 40 hours without rest, he got the worst headache.
"NOT REALLY!" The Dwarf yelled, and Bilbo jerked up. "Ah see, he's awake. Good mornin' master Hobbit. I'm Bofur and this here's Ori." He introduced himself and the smaller, red headed Dwarf next to him. Ori blushed and waved a little at Bilbo, and it was so cute, so normal, that Bilbo smiled and almost slipped.
"I'm Bi- I'm pleased to meet you." He froze and managed to think of something quick.
"Ah come on, master Hobbit. Yeh already started, might as well finish it. Or we could start guessin'. What do you think Ori? Bifford? Bisson? Bi...rou?" Bofur started spouting out ridiculous names that made Ori giggle, and Bilbo grimace.
"Okay! My name is Bilbo." He admitted with a frown.
"Bilbo! Now that's a grand name! I never woulda guessed. Would yeh Ori?" The red head giggled again and shook his head. "Well any who, we're here to get yer sizes. We're not really cloth makers, but the official tailor's busy at the moment. He sent us instead." Bofur explained, scratching his head beneath his hat before righting it.
"What do you need my sizes for?" Bilbo asked suspiciously, because he really couldn't imagine Thorin allowing him new clothes. Yes, he was currently naked from the waist up due to the disgusting condition of his puke covered tunic, but that was hardly Thorin's concern when he was the one who made Bilbo sick.
"Dwalin says he can practically hear yeh shivering at night. Yeh need the extra layer. And we can smell the mess on yer old tunic, and the floor, all the way in the hallway. Yeh need new clothes, and yer moving to the cell across the way so they can clean this one. I can't believe it took three days for Dwalin to convince Thorin. I bet if he'd just stuck the King's nose in here, Thorin woulda accepted in an instant." Bofur commented with a snort.
"Bofur, quiet. You know Thorin's in a bad mood, if he heard you talking like this-"
"I'm sure he will hear of it. Dwalin's listenin' ta everything we say. Well, come on then Bilbo. Stand up." He gestured for Bilbo to stand and approach the door. The Hobbit looked the two of them over intently before deciding that they were harmless. And even if they did mean him harm, what more could they do to him? He was already cut off from food, water, the sun, sleep. Frankly, at this point, a quick stab of a knife in his side would be a blessing.
If it weren't for the guilt of leaving his mother alone to fend for herself, he would be all for assassins in the form of replacement tailors. He wondered if Primula would continue helping Belladonna when the gold Bilbo left ran out. Or if Daisy and Hamfest would take her in, or find somewhere for her to go.
"Yer smaller than I thought yeh'd be." Bofur commented when he got a good look at Bilbo's bare chest and stomach. "Can see yer ribs. Yeh were starving before yeh got thrown in the dungeon, weren't yeh." He observed, reaching through the bars to wrap a tape measure around Bilbo's chest.
"I can't believe Thorin's not letting you eat." Ori whispered.
"I don't mind that so much. But I am lamenting the loss of water privileges." Ori gave him a curious look, obviously questioning why Bilbo wanted water rather than food.
"- inches." Bofur interjected before Bilbo could explain. Ori quickly scribbled the number down in the little journal he had brought with him. Bofur then moved on to Bilbo's stomach.
"So why do you prefer water?" Ori asked, when Bilbo stayed quiet.
"Bofur said it. I was starving before I came here, I'm used to that. The days I could afford food, I usually gave it away. But I've always had a lot of water. It settles the ache in my belly when I have to go without food." He explained.
"Why did you give away your food?" Ori asked, gently.
"There was someone who needed it more than I did." Bilbo smiled slightly. Ori opened his mouth to say something, but Bofur cut him off.
"- inches." He said, and Ori jotted that down as well. Bofur had Bilbo reach one arm out through the bars and wrapped the measuring tape around his bicep. "- inches." Bofur commented, then held the beginning of the tape at Bilbo's shoulder and measured the length of his arm.
"I never believed Balin when he said Hobbits were smaller than Dwarves. But you're no bigger than a teen Dwarf." Ori told him with a frown.
"I think he's even smaller than yeh Ori. If that were possible." Bofur said with a smirk. "- inches." Bofur moved the tape to measure the length of his abdomen, and then relayed the number before wrapping the tape up again. "All done. Dwalin'll be in later to move yeh. And I think Thorin's making Fili and Kili clean the cell, since he still hasn't punished them fer sneaking into the dungeons. So yeh'll have some conversational partners at least. We'll see yeh Bilbo." He smiled brightly and stuck his hand out. It took Bilbo longer than he was proud of to understand it was a handshake Bofur wanted. He shook the Dwarf's hand, and then Ori's as well, before they both left. Bilbo watched them go, his heart aching a little as they did.
Bofur and Ori, especially Ori, were kind to him. Like Fili and Kili had been. They were nothing like Thorin and Dwalin and the other Dwarf that regularly checked up on Bilbo, Nori. Bilbo doubted Dwalin knew Nori came into the dungeons. Nori was once a thief as well, but now he was the Mountain's Spy Master. He was only mean to Bilbo because he was jealous of his burglary skills. Apparently Thorin had commissioned Nori to try and steal the Arkenstone, to test their security, and the Dwarf hadn't even made it out of the Great Hall. The fact that Bilbo almost made it to the gate greatly irked the star haired Dwarf.
Eventually Bilbo tired of staring at the closed dungeon door and stumbled back to his little nest of blankets. At least Thorin hadn't taken those too. Well, he'd taken one of them. But Bilbo still had the other two, and it was a good thing. Without his tunic to keep him warm, Bilbo was sure he would die of frostbite before the hunger and thirst took him. He wrapped one of the blankets around his shoulders and curled into a tight ball on top of the other. He was just about to slip off into sleep when a deafening metallic clang filled the dungeon, echoing off of every stone surface and sounding impossibly loud to the poor Hobbit.
Bilbo cracked open his eyes to see Dwalin standing at his cell door, his sword in hand. It was what he usually did to keep Bilbo awake, or wake him from his sleep. He would hit his sword against the cell bars and the reverberating clang could probably rouse everyone in the mountain if there weren't walls in the way.
"Get up. Bilbo." Dwalin grinned when the Hobbit paled, more than usual. So he had been listening earlier. Or Bofur had just told him his name. And if Dwalin knew, then Thorin knew. Fan-freaking-tastic. "Come on, hurry." Bilbo's whole body was stiff and sore from laying on the uncomfortable prison floor for almost a week now, as well as from the punishing cold, but he stood anyways. "Grab yer things, unless yeh wish to freeze." The bald and tattooed Dwarf suggested gruffly. Bilbo did as he said, gathering both his blankets in his arms and cautiously approaching the cell door. Dwalin unlocked it, immediately grabbing Bilbo by the back of his neck, before Bilbo could even think of running.
"Ow." Bilbo grunted, trying not to stumble as Dwalin yanked him the few feet to the opposite cell. The buff Dwarf snorted, unlocked the new cell door, and tossed Bilbo through much the same way Thorin had. But this time he had blankets to cushion his fall. "Are you ever going to kill me and be done with it?" He whispered, not expecting an answer. When he failed to hear the slam of a door, or anything really, he started to fear a little. He never knew what could set one of the Dwarves off, and he didn't want Dwalin to be the first one he managed to piss off so severely that he was hit.
Four soft, precise, footsteps made every muscle in his body tense. Fingers wrapped around his upper arm and he was pulled around to look up at Dwalin. The Dwarf was glaring down at him like he had personally insulted his whole family line. But his grip on Bilbo's arm was only firm, not painful. And he was not actively punching Bilbo in the face, so Bilbo supposed he might not be in as much trouble as he could have been. Had it been Thorin, he was sure he wouldn't be as kind.
"A word of advice Hobbit. Never say such things unless yeh mean them." The Dwarf practically growled at him.
"And if I do mean it? What other end can there be for me? Staying in this dungeon for the rest of my life? Starving on your King's orders? Let us not forget that I have admitted to no crime, and you have no evidence of my participation in said crime. And yet here I am. You tell me, what could be worse than wasting away, miserable and cold, because your King believes I am guilty? Certainly not a quick death." The Dwarf's face went from stony to surprised to a bit guilty before returning to stony.
"If yeh were not intending to steal the Arkenstone, why did yeh have it in your possession?" He demanded. Bilbo scoffed.
"I have already said what I was doing with it, and none of you believe me." Bilbo stared right into Dwalin's eyes, and after a few moment's, the Dwarf could no longer hold his gaze. "So I ask again. Are you ever going to kill me and end this?" Part of Bilbo was honestly hoping Dwalin would say yes. That he would unsheathe his sword now and plunge it into his heart. He wouldn't even scream. He would probably thank the Dwarf with his last breath. But the other part of him, the one that his mother depended on, was afraid to think of Dwalin, of any of them, killing him. But really, what was the possibility that he would ever see his mother again? Even if he was released, he would have to deal with Smaug. And the journey back, without the use of Smaug's wings, would take months, if not a year. By then she would definitely be out of gold, and in all probability, dead.
"No. We need information from yeh." Dwalin grunted, and Bilbo couldn't help but groan. He'd heard that so many times now. Information, information, information. It was all these Dwarves cared about. He was this close to just telling them what they wanted to know! As long as they left him alone for a little while. If they gave him water, and let him sleep.
"Please go away." Bilbo whispered, not looking at him. Dwalin hesitated for a few moments but released his arm and straightened himself. He really couldn't look at Bilbo for too long, especially with his chest bare like that. He was so frail, so small, and so deeply sad. The Dwarf closed the cell door, softer than he ever had before, and closed the dungeon door with just as much care. He was hardly surprised to find Thorin waiting for him in the hallway.
"What did he say?" The King asked.
"He asked me to kill him." Dwalin stated bluntly, and with bitterness prevalent in his tone. "What if he is innocent? What if we're torturing the lad and it was never him who took the stone?" The bald Dwarf stared his King down, but Thorin didn't reply. He just held himself tall and walked away. For some reason, the thought of Bilbo asking Dwalin to kill him made Thorin angry. The thought of Bilbo dead, by anyone's hand, made him clench his teeth and growl. And he hated that the Hobbit had such an effect on him. Mahal, he'd only spoken to the creature twice, and the second time had ended with him making Bilbo sick! They were hardly friends. So why did he get a urge to protect his prisoner from anyone who might do him harm.
Thorin's mood only darkened when his mind pointed out that Thorin was the only one currently doing Bilbo harm.
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"Hello Bilbo!" Kili said brightly when he and Fili arrived in the dungeon. They'd both been glad to learn his name from Dwalin, but Kili especially. However, the young raven haired Dwarf didn't receive and answer from Bilbo. He didn't even receive an acknowledgment. He was about to open his mouth and try again when a heavy hand gripped his shoulder.
"Let the lad sleep." Dwalin rumbled, steering the prince towards the smelly cell Bilbo had inhabited until today. Fili was grimacing as he observed the mostly died out sick that almost covered one corner of the cell.
"Thorin made him stay in here with this for three days?" Fili asked Dwalin, disgust on his face. Dwalin only set the bucket of warm water down and tossed the two sponges to the princes.
"Clean it. Do it quickly. Don't interact with the prisoner. That's what got yeh in trouble in the first place." He ordered, with a discreet fond smile, before turning back towards Bilbo's cell. The Hobbit was curled into a ball, the same way he always seemed to be, and faced away from the cell door. Dwalin wasn't sure if he was really asleep or not, but he wasn't going to bother him. Not when he'd made the lad stay awake for so long. Thorin had hoped that if they exhausted Bilbo, he might be more willing to talk. But the longer they refused him sleep, the stronger his will seemed to become. Dwalin almost admired him.
"Master Dwalin?" He turned to look at Kili, who was already scrubbing at the floor. The boys got into trouble a lot, but they also took the punishment for their trouble without complaining. It was one of the things Dwalin liked about them. "Why is uncle being so cruel to Bilbo? He's never been so mean to prisoners before." He asked innocently. Dwalin looked towards the door of the dungeons, where said uncle stood silently, keeping his presence a secret. Thorin quirked an eyebrow, but otherwise remained emotionless.
"King Thorin is trying to understand why Bilbo was stealing the Arkenstone." It sounded better than telling them he was subtly torturing Bilbo until he talked.
"Maybe if he was nice, Bilbo would tell him whatever he wanted to know." Kili suggested, gagging a little when he rung his sponge out and dipped it in the water again.
"Yeah, Nori tells us about this tactic that people use when interrogating people. He calls it Good Pig, Bad Pig. Where there's one Lawkeeper who's really mean to the prisoner, and one who's really nice. And he says it's usually the nice one that gets answers." Fili explained.
"Why does he call Lawkeepers Pigs?" Kili asked, again in a much too innocent voice.
"Because he wants to know what a night in a cell feels like." Dwalin muttered. "It's not up to us to judge yer uncle's actions. Keep cleaning." He said firmly, before either one could go on. They both grumbled, but did as he said. In fact, neither said anything else as they worked. But Dwalin was sure they were silently communicating in the way that only they seemed to be able to. Finally, after the floor was clean of the mess, Fili sighed and looked at Dwalin.
"What will happen to Bilbo when he does tell Thorin why he was taking the stone?" He wondered, and Dwalin felt his stomach squeeze at the question. He had found himself wondering that as well. What did Thorin intend to do with Bilbo once he had his information? Was Bilbo correct in assuming the only end to this whole situation was his death? And why did that thought make Dwalin cringe?
"I don't know lad. Come on. I think yer mother is waiting for you." That put a kick in their step, as everyone in the mountain knew you didn't keep Lady Dis waiting. Thorin was no longer in the dungeon doorway, but Dwalin had no doubts that he would be back as soon as Fili and Kili were gone. He was losing his patience, and he was determined to get something from Bilbo. Dwalin shooed the boys away and waited. He wasn't disappointed, as Thorin appeared from around the corner within minutes. "He's asleep." Dwalin relayed the status of the prisoner, as he did every time Thorin walked by. Thorin hardly heard him.
"Find somewhere else to be for the next thirty minutes." The King ordered gruffly. Dwalin stared at Thorin for a long moment before nodding. He couldn't say no to the King, as hesitant as he was to leave Bilbo alone with Thorin. The last time the two of them were alone, Dwalin had checked in on Bilbo only to find his covered in puke and sobbing bitterly.
"Of course yer highness." Dwalin marched away, hoping for Bilbo's sake that Thorin wasn't in a particularly violent mood. Thorin watched his friend go before entering the dungeon and locking the door behind him. He was not leaving, and no one was entering, until he had something of substance from the Hobbit. Anything, but he would prefer the name of whoever hired the boy.
Bilbo appeared to be sleeping, but Thorin had the thought that he probably wasn't. He was probably silently listening to Fili and Kili just as the King had been. But he didn't move, even when the door to his cell was opened and then closed. Thorin walked over to the curled up body and nudged it with his foot. Bilbo did not acknowledge him, or the nudge. He held tight to his illusion of unconsciousness, for as long as possible.
"I know you are not asleep." Thorin's voice rumbled. Still there was nothing. Muttering a bit under his breath in Khuzdul, the Dwarf stooped and pulled the blanket free of Bilbo's small body. He wasn't completely prepared for the sight of a smooth, hairless chest and a few visible ribs. Nor was he prepared to see the dark bruising on Bilbo's knuckles, like he'd been hitting something. Most likely the wall. "Tell me the name of your employer." Thorin growled as soon as Bilbo's eyes snapped open. The Hobbit reached for the blanket in Thorin's hand, but the Dwarf pulled it out of his reach. "Tell me or you lose this one as well." He hissed. A flash of fear crossed Bilbo's face, but he settled it into his usual brave mask before Thorin could comment.
"I don't have an employer. I used to, but he's a farmer and he doesn't have me work during winter. There's nothing to do during winter." Bilbo said weakly. He reached for the blanket again only for Thorin to slap his hand away. The Dwarf was surprised by the yelp of pain Bilbo let loose at the slap, and he remembered the bruising. He felt a flash of regret for causing the boy pain, but it was gone within a moment.
"If you would just cooperate, I wouldn't have to punish you so severely. You must be tired of resisting what we both know is the truth. You are a Thief and you tried to steal the Arkenstone. You were obviously contracted to steal it, as you appear to have more common sense than to believe you could do anything with the stone once out of the mountain. So tell me the name of your contractor and I could be persuaded to be kind." He thundered, and his pride soared when Bilbo cowered. It was only for a few moments, but Thorin relished them. But then Bilbo puffed out his chest, held his little nose high in the air and set his mouth in a firm line. It was more than a rejection, it was a challenge.
That was all it took for Thorin's last nerve to snap. His hand connected with jarring force against the Halflings cheek. The boy was caught off guard and couldn't stop his fall, his shoulder slamming hard into the unforgiving ground and his cheek stung fiercely. It felt like it was on fire. He had no time to recover, as Thorin grabbed him by his throat and pulled him up, until he was on his feet. The Dwarf pushed him back against the wall of the cell, leaving only a few scarce inches between the two of them as he glared down at his prisoner.
"I have run out of patience. Every person has a pressure point. I imagine that yours is in the Shire. No doubt it is the "someone who needs more" that you gave your few meals to. Oh yes, I heard about that. Everything that is said is brought back to me. I feel I have a fairly good picture of you Bilbo. You live in the Shire, but the ugly, bitter, unforgiving part of the Shire. You live in poverty and you live with someone, someone you love more than yourself. It shouldn't be too hard to discover just who that is. Hobbits do love to talk. Well, most of them do." He growled the last sentence, tightening his hold on Bilbo's neck. The Hobbit gasped, pulling in the limited amount of air he was still given at the moment.
"N-No!" He gasped.
"So I will give you one last choice. Tell me who hired you, or I will find the one person you love and I will see too it that you have nothing to live for." Bilbo was shaking in his hold, and his eyes were glassy with tears that he refused to shed in front of Thorin. But he really didn't have a choice. If it came down between his employer and his mother, he would never endanger his mother. Ever.
"Smaug." Bilbo choked after a moment. "My employer...is the Dragon Smaug." He closed his eyes, waiting for another blow, or maybe a knife in his stomach. But none came. Thorin didn't move at all. If not for the heavy, ragged, and angry breaths that ruffled Bilbo curls, Bilbo would wonder if Thorin was even still alive. He was unceremoniously dropped and the cell door clanged shut with a surprising force. If the impressive metal bars could vibrate, they would be now. Bilbo waited for the dungeon door to slam shut as well before he allowed the restrained tears to pour out of his eyes and down his cheeks, heavy sobs wracking his entire body along with the tears.
He'd never felt more wretched. He had never sold out a contractor. But, to be fair, he'd never been imprisoned or faced with someone like Thorin Oakenshield before. And the thought of Thorin sending someone after his mother...it made him sick to his stomach. He just felt all together terrible. He ached, he was starving and dying of thirst. His emotions were compromised and his mind felt like it was fighting a loosing battle. He felt like he was loosing the will to continue. The thought of Dwalin or Thorin killing him no longer sent a thrill of fear through him. He had already failed his mother. No matter what happened to him now, she was going to die.
Bilbo returned to his protective ball and let himself pour out all the tears that he'd been holding back for a week now. There was no telling how much longer he had, how much longer Thorin would tolerate him. Especially since he now knew that Bilbo had been working for Smaug. The greatest enemy of Erebor and Bilbo had followed his instruction. Bilbo imagined his execution would be a grand affair. Maybe they'd invite lords from the other Dwarf Kingdoms to come watch. It sure sounded like something they would do.
He wept until he fell asleep, truly this time. And he hoped that he didn't wake up.
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AN: What'd ya think? Review or leave a question, if you'd like. Thanks for reading! See ya next week!