Balin had heard many things about the Thief in the dungeons. Dwalin spoke of him often. His brother regretted most of the things that Thorin ordered him to do. But the most recent order had Dwalin ranting half the night. Total isolation was a harsh ruling, especially for Hobbits. Balin knew the race better than most Dwarves. They were a social people, full of life and frivolity. They had very good ale, and even better pipe weed. To take away any kind of contact with any type of living thing...it was cruel beyond measure. But no one could really argue with Thorin, especially about prisoners.

Balin was sad for the Hobbit, though he knew he shouldn't be sympathetic with a thief. And he found himself thinking a lot about the little thief. He was constantly contemplating what had happened to bring Bilbo to those dungeons. Hobbits were of the more pleasant and diplomatic races of Middle Earth; calm, subdued and somewhat boring. To think that one of them had descended to the rank of a Thief was more than confusing, it was worrisome. Balin doubted he had ever heard of such a thing happening before. A Hobbit thief. It was truly a precarious situation. One he wanted to get to the bottom of.

He wanted to question little Bilbo, as Dwalin had taken to calling him during his rants, but he knew Thorin would not allow it. Unless he managed to sway the King. Just a little bit. Balin always did have a way with words, after all. It was with confidence that he asked Thorin for an audience with Bilbo. He convinced Thorin that he could get him more information from the Hobbit, and he did intend to get information. Dwalin had also told him of the Halflings love for water, so he came prepared with a full skin of it. It may be a low move, to use this against Bilbo, but everyone in the company knew of the Hobbits stubbornness. Thorin and Dwalin both talked about that particular facet of his personality, quite often. He would get information, but he would also find out what he wanted to know about Bilbo.

"Evening brother." Balin smiled easily at Dwalin as he approached the dungeon. Dwalin did not smile back. His brother did not look good at all. In fact he looked more heavily burdened than he ever had. Even during their days in exile. "Bad day?" Balin guessed.

"He was screaming earlier. Every now and then I'll hear him speak, calling out for someone. Anyone. But this...this was different. So very different." Dwalin's voice was heavier than the mountain. Balin frowned, his pity divided between the obviously suffering Hobbit, and his obviously distressed brother. He hesitantly placed his hand on Dwalin's shoulder, unsure of whether his brother wanted his comfort or not.

"Go get some rest brother. Thorin gave me permission to talk to him." He half ordered and half pleaded. Dwalin nodded somewhat numbly and stumbled off in the other direction. Balin sighed as he watched him go, and then held himself high once again. He opened the door of the dungeon and closed it behind him. The little burglar was in the very last cell. Curled into himself and rocking back and forth lightly. Balin was a bit shocked at what he saw.

He had met Hobbits before. They were fat and merry never seemed to stop smiling, unless it was to glower at something that was different. This boy was practically skin and bones. His hair was dirty and matted, and his knuckles were a bloody mess. He didn't hear Balin approach, but he saw him when he came the bars of the cell, and his head snapped up faster than Balin had seen before. The Hobbit whimpered and shrank further in on himself, if that were possible. He didn't know if Balin was friend or foe, but given the place he resided, he could only guess foe at first glance. Balin tried to smile and disarm the boy, but he only shrank more.

"Easy. I'm not here to harm ya." He promised, easing himself down to sit cross legged outside the bars of the cell. "My name is Balin." He saw dull recognition in those wide blue eyes, and smiled carefully again.

"You teach Fili and Kili and Ori." The Hobbit ventured, and his voice was so quiet. He sounded like his throat ached terribly. And Balin supposed it probably did if he had gone so long without water, as well as the screaming earlier.

"Yes, among others." He confirmed.

"W-What do you want?" Bilbo asked nervously.

"I want to know how a Hobbit ended up in the dungeons of Erebor." Balin said plainly. Bilbo flinched and looked down. "How did ya come to be a Thief Bilbo?"

"Why does it matter?" Bilbo sighed dejectedly.

"Oh, it's mostly personal curiosity. I've met a few Hobbits before and I never imagined one becoming a prisoner in a far away land." Bilbo looked up shyly.

"You've m-met Hobbits?" He asked softly.

"Oh yes. I've met members of the Brandybuck family, the Proudfoot family, and the Took family." Bilbo flinched at the last one. "Are ya a Took?" Balin immediately inquired.

"Half Took. But my father was a Baggins, and I am a Baggins." He relinquished after a moment. "Though I'm hardly making them proud. I imagine they would love it if I called myself a Took instead." He added with a cringe. Balin couldn't help but cringe as well. Bilbo sounded so...resigned. So tired.

"Bilbo Baggins, eh? It's a good name. But why did Bilbo Baggins become a Thief?" He tried again, but Bilbo just shook his head. Evidently he was a little stubborn. "Well, can I ask a different question then?" Bilbo nodded, though he didn't look excited. "Why did ya do it lad? Why take the contract of a Dragon to steal a gem that is impossible to steal? Though I give ya credit for getting so far with it." The old white haired Dwarf laughed a bit. Bilbo didn't laugh. Balin thought now would be a good time to play dirty. He pulled the water skin from his belt and took a long drink from it. Bilbo swallowed dryly, eyes glued to the water skin and the dribble of liquid that escaped the cap after Balin finished drinking. He whined lightly when Balin took another drink.

"Like you would believe me anyway." Bilbo whispered miserably. Balin knew his decision to bring water was a good one. This may be easier than he thought, though his conscious was pitching a fit at him for torturing the lad in this way.

"How about we make a trade. Ya tell me why ya came here, and I give ya water. Ya must be dying of thirst." He bargained, ignoring the part of him that was reprimanding him for being cruel. Bilbo looked at him for a long moment, then the water skin, and swallowed again. His throat ached and his head hurt from the dehydration. The screaming from earlier had only made it worse. It had to have been more than a week now since he'd had food, and three days since Dwalin had left him a skin of water (secretly of course) and he needed the water in Balin's hand. He would do anything for it.

"He promised me one tenth of the treasury. In exchange for the stone." Bilbo admitted.

"A tenth eh. That's a lot of gold. And that's the only reason ya took the contract?" The way Bilbo squeezed in on himself even more told Balin that it wasn't. And he already knew that Bilbo had someone he loved in the Shire. He'd heard Thorin talking to Dwalin about it. "Is it a child, or a wife?" Bilbo looked at him with confusion. "Ya took the job, regardless of knowing ya'd probably fail, because the offer of reward was so great. But ya only want the reward to help someone close to ya. Someone ya love." Balin said firmly, watching the Hobbit carefully. He was surprised to see fat tears rolling down his face within seconds of him speaking.

"I failed her. I told her I would take care of her and I failed and now she's going to die." He cried weakly, and Balin felt his heart squeeze in his chest. He didn't let it show on his face though.

"Go on lad. Tell me." He encouraged, passing the water skin through the bars. The burglar downed every drop in the skin within a minute, and laid his head back against the wall of his cell, looking exhausted. "I can bring more water, if ya tell me." Balin prompted. Bilbo sat, cursing himself, for a moment before closing his eyes.

"My mother. She's very sick, she's been sick for years. That's why I started thieving. It was always for her. When...Smaug...offered me this contract, I initially said no. But, that much gold could buy my mother the cure to her illness over a thousand times. It could buy her a real house so she doesn't have to live in that disgusting shack. It could make her happy again, with fancy clothes and books and enough food to actually eat all the meals in a day!" The Hobbit was sobbing again. "I knew I would probably fail. But I hoped I would not. I hoped I would be able to give my mother what she deserves." Balin listened intently the entire time, ignoring his aching chest. It wasn't really fair to Bilbo. It was Smaug who should be in the dungeon.

"That's...quite a story lad." Balin finally spoke. Bilbo snorted a bit.

"You don't believe me. I knew you wouldn't." The Hobbit looked at him for a moment before curling into a ball with his back facing Balin. He didn't care if the older Dwarf brought him more water. He was exhausted and he needed sleep. The total isolation he'd suffered for days now had left him restless and no matter how tired he was, he could not sleep. He thought he could sleep now. Maybe soon his hunger and thirst would kill him. He wondered if his mother would be waiting for him, or if he would wait for her for a while before she passed. He had tried so hard to save her. To restore her from her sickness and make her happy again. All for nothing.

Balin watched the Hobbit for a moment before leaving the dungeon. He went straight to the King's study, the guards opening the doors for him without him saying a word. Thorin looked up from whatever document he was studying and immediately saw the troubled look on his old friend's face. He gestured for Balin to sit in the chair across from his, and his adviser did as he was bid. Thorin didn't think he could remember ever seeing Balin look quite so...defeated.

"Did the Thief talk?" Thorin asked, putting the document down to pay full attention to Balin.

"He did. Smaug offered a reward of one tenth of the treasury in exchange for the Arkenstone." Balin told him, and Thorin could just hear the anger in his voice. "I think we should let Bilbo go." Balin stated before Thorin could ask what was troubling him. Thorin could only stare at his adviser like he'd grown a second head.

"Why on Middle Earth would I release a Thief who tried to take the Arkenstone?" He demanded. Balin sighed, he'd been expecting such a response. There was more between Thorin and Bilbo than any of them knew. The few times the King and the Thief had been alone together had always ended badly. Thorin hardly ever let people see how he was feeling, and the fact that the Burglar could get under his skin so efficiently was no laughing matter. There was something about Bilbo that seriously disheveled Thorin.

"We both know it isn't his fault, it was Smaug that sent him in here."

"And when we find Smaug, he can join the thief in the dungeon." Thorin snapped.

"Thorin. Bilbo did what he did for his mother. To save her life. Think my boy, what would you not do for your family?" Thorin had no answer for him. He had been wondering just who Bilbo was protecting. Who he had admitted his crimes for. His mother. "He is convinced that his mother will die without him. We know he is a Halfling, which means she must be within the Shire, waiting for him to come home. If you will not release him, the least you can do is save her life as he was trying to do." Thorin avoided the eyes of his adviser for a few moments, but sighed in defeat once he saw the look on Balin's face.

"I will send Dori and a few others to search for her. But I promise nothing. He may very well have lied to you, she may not even exist." Thorin pointed out.

"You did not hear the pain in his voice as he spoke of failing her." Balin said instantly. "There is a love you cannot fake when it comes to family." Balin spoke solemnly before standing. "Goodnight your Majesty." He bowed at his waist and left Thorin alone. The King sat thinking for a few long moments before deciding he would have no peace of mind until he saw Bilbo. It had been almost five days since he had forced the name 'Smaug' from Bilbo's lips, and his stomach had still not unclenched. There had been so much fear, terror, on Bilbo's face on that day. In that moment when Thorin had threatened the life of his mother, Bilbo had looked more frightened than anyone should be able to look. And there was no denying that he felt guilt for what he did.

Thorin met with no one as he walked towards the dungeons. He wasn't surprised to find Dwalin absent from the impressive door. No doubt Balin had sent his brother off to bed when he'd entered earlier. Dwalin deserved the reprieve. Every time he reported to Thorin, he looked a bit heavier. A bit more tired. And when he had delivered the news of Bilbo's screaming to Thorin, he had looked ready to be sick. Apparently Thorin was not the only one effected by Bilbo.

The Hobbit had not moved since Balin had left. Thorin wondered if he had moved since the King left him five days ago. He looked to be in exactly the same position. Thorin felt another pang of guilt at the realization that Bilbo still did not have his new shirt. The King was fairly sure he ordered the tailor to forgo making that. But that guilt was nothing compared to the fury he felt when he caught sight of the Hobbits butchered knuckles. What did he really expect though? He'd left the boy totally alone for five days. He shouldn't have hoped that the screaming was the only problem that isolation had reaped.

Thorin hardly realized he was heading towards the infirmary until he arrived, much to the surprise of Oin. The King avoided the infirmary at all cost, constantly maintaining that he was in perfect health and needed no mothering from half deaf Dwarfs. He said nothing, simply gestured for Oin to follow him and walked out. Oin grabbed his Med Bag and dashed out after the King, a bit worried.

"Your highness, is something wrong? Has someone been hurt?" Oin asked cautiously as he half ran to keep up with his King.

"Yes." Thorin grunted simply. He gave no other answer, and Oin didn't pry for one. When they reached the dungeon, realization crept to him. He'd also heard stories about Bilbo. Bofur, Ori, Fili, and Kili talked about him like he was a sweet boy. Dwalin usually cursed himself for hurting the lad. And every now and then he heard Thorin muttering to himself bitterly about the Halfling. For that reason, Oin worried about what he would find in the dungeon. How hurt was the lad?

Thorin opened the dungeon door silently and led Oin to the very last cell, opening that door and gesturing to the small prisoner within. Oin's shrewd eyes examined Bilbo's body as he cautiously stepped forward, lingering on the bloody knuckles. The gray haired healer knelt next to Bilbo's stubbornly still body and he put his hand gently on the boy's shoulder. The reaction he got from one small touch was like a dam bursting. The Halfling screamed, half conscious and half awake, and completely terrified of whoever was touching him.

"No no, shhh, it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm a healer, I'm here to help." Oin rushed to sooth the frantic boy. He squeezed the thin shoulder lightly and Bilbo's eyes popped open, full consciousness rushing to him as he looked up at a new face. He whimpered, but Oin made calming murmurs as he gently talked Bilbo into laying on his back. "I'm a healer. I'm going to bandage your hands, and whatever other aches you have." He smiled reassuringly, and Bilbo nodded after a long moment. He watched curiously as Oin washed his knuckles before spreading some white gooey stuff over them and wrapping them in bandages.

"Who are you?" Bilbo asked at long length, his voice cracked and small.

"My name is Oin. And as I've said, I'm a healer." He said warmly. "Are you hurting anywhere else?" He asked, glancing worriedly at the bruises on Bilbo's cheek and shoulder. Bilbo followed his eyes and flinched, but shook his head.

"I-I'm fine." He lied softly. Oin started to put away his remaining bandages and ointment, and Bilbo panicked. "Please don't leave! Please!" Bilbo begged, grabbing Oin's hand to stop him. The healer was startled by the desperation in Bilbo's voice and he slowly eased Bilbo's hands off of his. But he held the bandaged hands in his own, the small touch seeming to sooth the boy.

"I won't. It's okay. You're okay." He said gently. Bilbo sniffled and drew his knees up to his chest, but he looked lighter than he did when Oin entered the cell. "How long have you been alone in here?" Oin wondered worriedly. Bilbo looked up at him with wet eyes.

"I don't know. I can't tell whether it's day or night, I have no idea how long it's been. But it feels like it's been weeks. Balin came in to talk to me earlier, but all he wanted was information. C-Can we talk about something? Something nice?" Bilbo asked hopefully. Oin tried to smile as warmly as he could and nodded.

"Well sure we can. What would you like to talk about?" Bilbo bit his lip and thought for a moment before brightening.

"Herbs! Can we talk about herbs? When my father was alive, he taught me all about them. We had a garden and he would sit me on his knee and point to the different ones and tell me what they did. But...I haven't talked about herbs with anyone in years." Bilbo explained, happily at first, and then more somber. Oin patted his knee consolingly and nodded.

"Herbs it is. Let's see, what might be grown here that you would know about?" They proceeded to talk for the better part of an hour before Bilbo slumped over into sleep. Oin eased the boy down onto his blankets and wrapped one around him snugly. He smiled one more time at the peaceful look on Bilbo's face and stood to go. He was hardly surprised to see that Thorin was still lurking just outside Bilbo's cell, pressed against the wall where he could hear what was happening but not see it. He glanced up as Oin emerged form the cell and nodded in acknowledgment. Oin patted his King's shoulder before shuffling away.

Thorin waited for Oin to be long gone before quietly walking into Bilbo's cell. He knelt down next to the sleeping boy and ran his fingers through the golden curls on his head. They were a little matted and greasy, but still beautiful. He pulled Bilbo's blanket down just enough so he could see the still dark bruise from when he'd hit Bilbo, and the one where the boy had landed hard on the ground. He clenched his teeth, angry with himself for putting a mark on this small boy, and pulled the blanket back up. Bilbo's cheek, and the ugly bruise on it, screamed at him, accusing him in the silence. This was his fault. Everything that was hurting Bilbo was his fault. He couldn't stand it anymore and stood to leave. He closed the cell door gently and looked up at the Hobbit one more time.

"I'm sorry." He whispered before disappearing from the dungeon. Bilbo murmured and turned in his sleep, but didn't wake. He was far too tired to wake.

OOOOO

Thorin was surprised to find Bilbo already awake when he walked into the dungeon the next morning. The Hobbit was drawing invisible pictures on the ground in front of him and he didn't look up when Thorin stopped in front of his cell. Thorin wondered how he knew it was him, and not one of the Dwarves that Bilbo did like. But somehow he wasn't surprised about it either.

"Bilbo." Thorin called, trying to get the Hobbit to look at him, but Bilbo only hummed in reply, his finger gracefully skimming over the stone floor, making what could have been a tree in his imagination. "I wish to apologize." Bilbo's hand stilled, his whole body motionless, but he still didn't look up. Thorin couldn't really blame him. "My behavior has been abominable. You are my prisoner but that does not give me an excuse to abuse you." It must have been the honest regret in his tone, or the little crack in his voice when he said 'abuse'. But whatever it was, Bilbo was finally looking at him.

Impossibly big blue eyes peeked up at the King through golden curls and stared into his own sapphire eyes. Bilbo appeared to be searching, trying to find a hint that this was just a trick, just another way to manipulate him. His bruised cheeks looked so dark in the torch light, it made Thorin's heart squeeze, and his flinch must have been the last thing Bilbo needed to see. The Hobbit's eyes lost their hardness and he relaxed completely. Thorin hadn't even realized that Bilbo was tensed up, but now it seemed so obvious.

"Would you like to bathe?" Thorin asked, as gently as he could. Bilbo's hair was getting pretty mangy. And his skin was tainted with dirt and sweat. The Hobbit narrowed his eyes suspiciously for a moment before seeming to accept that the offer was genuine, and he nodded. "I shall have Dwalin escort you to the bath chambers." Thorin said with a small nod before turning and leaving. He was just about to touch the door handle when Bilbo spoke.

"Thorin." The Dwarf King froze and it took him a few seconds to recover. Bilbo had never said his name before. And while it was said with no emotion, it was still surprising. Thorin slowly made his way back to Bilbo's cell, the Hobbit now standing pressed against the bars of the cell. "A-Are you going to let me die? In this cell? Now that you know what you want, you have no use for me." The Hobbit tried not to sound scared, but his eyes were screaming with fear and anxiety. Thorin couldn't help but to reach forward, slowly running his fingers down Bilbo's unbruised cheek. Surprisingly, the Hobbit let him.

"No. I'm not going to let you die. And I'm not going to kill you." The King stated firmly.

"T-Then what will become of me?" Bilbo choked out. Thorin's motions stopped, and he realized with horror, that he hadn't thought of Bilbo's future. The people would want him imprisoned or killed. His nephews wanted Bilbo to stay. So did Ori and Bofur and Oin, and even Dwalin. He could tell. Even though they didn't say anything out loud, they were all very curious and strangely protective of the boy. Especially Dwalin, who just barely allowed the King into the dungeons when he approached it this morning.

"I do not know." He admitted, and Bilbo shrank away from him. "I will discuss the matter with my counsel." Thorin promised, but that didn't seem to improve Bilbo's now sullen mood at all. Thorin opened his mouth to say something more, but no words came to his tongue. Instead he just gave Bilbo a small nod and walked out of the dungeon. All the way this time. He gave Dwalin his order to take Bilbo to the bath chambers and walked away. He had to summon his counsel.

OOOOO

AN: Finally! Thorin isn't such a dick anymore! I can't promise he'll stay this way...but who knows? Feel free to leave a comment or question! Thank you for reading, see ya in a week!