I am sorry- I thought I had posted this chapter and then realised I hadn't when I went to post the next chapter!

Unbeta'd from now on as Anar is going to focus on the sequel to Sons of Thunder, which is currently underway. Got two chapters but want to get this done first. Thanks as always to all those who take the time to review- it is the writer's only reward so if you enjoyed this and want the next chapter damn quick, PLEASE review!

Chapter 11: A Plan.

When Bilbo told the dwarves that he had found Thorin they were elated.

'All we need now is to get out of here!' Fili had exclaimed and Kili had immediately started making plans, drawing in the dust with his finger. But Dwalin and Balin were far more circumspect and looked at Bilbo thoughtfully.

'There is no easy way,' Balin said finally. 'That elf captain, Galadhon, will never cease his vigilance. He has some deep grudge against us that makes him very careful about locking doors and checking we have no way of escape.'

Bilbo agreed. 'Galadhon was the captain who was in charge the night you were captured. He has been blamed for not stopping us so I think he will never let up his vigilance.' He sighed and tutted at their situation.

Dwalin looked at Bilbo again with shrewd, appraising eyes. 'Can you not steal it from under his nose? After all, you have a magic ring that makes you invisible. And you are a burglar.' He cocked his head slightly to regard Bilbo but the reference to burglary made Bilbo very uncomfortable. He was already stealing from the Elvenking's table and it made him think too of Smeagol's shrieking accusation as he fled the tunnels of the Misty Mountains.

Thief, thief, thief, Baggins! We hates it, we hates it, we hates it forever!

The loss of the one thing that mattered to him would destroy Gollum, Bilbo thought. And he remembered thinking how alone Gollum was; miserable, alone, lost. The sudden understanding , pity mixed with horror, welled up in Bilbo's heart once again, as it had in the darkness of the mountains. A glimpse of the endless days, unmarked without light or hope, hard stone, cold fish and endless whispering. Sneaking….Like he was now.

It was not the first time he had thought it, grown tired of skulking around stealing. But what choice did he have? Of course the Ring also had other powers, he thought to himself, or the thought occurred to him.

Does it? He shook himself a little. He didn't know that.

Yes, of course he had been able to see into some of the elves' thoughts, although that had attracted their attention too.

But you will become better at it.

He supposed he would.

There will be other powers.

Bilbo stopped to consider:the Ring certainly allowed him to see what others were thinking. Perhaps it could influence how others behaved, but he was loathe to use it on any elf for they seemed to sense the Ring as soon as it awoke and focused on them, for that was how he had begun to think of it, as awakening like a hawk and sending it to hunt…Except it seemed more than that, and Bilbo found that at times he was a little scared. But he could not stop stroking his finger over the precious gold sometimes and he swore it almost hummed with pleasure, like a sleepy cat purring. And then he was calmed and reassured. It was a magic ring. That was all. It made him invisible, helped him to hide, helped him to understand other people. It helped him. That was all.

When the dwarves were brought their supper and Bilbo, as usual, had assured them that he would find his own and they did not have to share their own with him, Bilbo left.

In the huge and warm kitchen, there was a stool that had been forgotten; someone had once placed it behind an empty flour barrel and it was quite hidden. Everyone had forgotten it was there it seemed and Bilbo often went there when he felt lonely or was trying to find things out. He preferred the kitchens and stores to the upper palace though he liked best trailing behind one of the younger elves because he enjoyed their company and antics and felt less oppressed by his loneliness when he was with them. He was much more careful though and did not pry into their thoughts now for he had been scared by how quickly the sons of the King had known he was there.

He found some cheese and a hunk of bread left out on the table and quietly stolen it and was nibbling away as he listened and thought. Like a mouse he thought.

Like a mouse, agreed the Ring, not a thief. No. Not sneaking.

Bilbo was concerned by now that many of those elves he had come to think of as his friends were falling out over silly and trivial matters.

It was fast approaching the Feast of Starlight, when the elves marked that the earth turned towards sleep. Usually preparing for a feast was a merry affair and a chance for the cooks to show off their skill. Bilbo had expected the cook, Úroch to be busily ordering his staff about, directing the baking of cakes and bread and tarts and pies, and the merry kitchen-elves would be excited and keen, but this evening there was a subdued and anxious atmosphere. Bilbo realised this had been growing for some time and in fact, elves from all over the stronghold had seemed to become more anxious and more irritable the longer he was there. He could not account for it, nor could anybody else for it had not gone unnoticed by the elves either. The kitchen maids murmured to each other that a shadow had crept through the Wood. They whispered because they did not want either Úrloch or Galion to hear them gossiping and they stopped as soon as either of those entered but their fingers cradled talismans and amulets of protection. It was not only in the kitchens, that Bilbo heard whispers that the King did not do enough, that the Dark was descending upon the Wood and in truth it was now Mirkwood. If only they had the protection enjoyed by the other elven realms…

Bilbo did not know what that meant but he stroked his Ring and it hummed pleasurably and coiled about his finger snugly…He shook himself. No, not coiled surely? But now and again he did think it seemed to move, to hug him tighter...to coil.

The dissonance was affecting those Bilbo thought of as his own elves too; he had discovered quite by chance that Miriel and Tauriel had argued over Legolas, and Miriel had subsequently left the stronghold and gone to live with her parents in their cottage in the Wood. Tauriel was irritated and upset in equal measure and the short, hairy forester, Filion, had tried to comfort her in the way that Legolas would have liked to except that Legolas was hunting with the King in preparation for the feast. But one thing that had happened as a result of Anglach's heated words to Legolas, was that Legolas had listened to what Anglach had said about him pestering Tauriel and stopped. It was a pity, thought Bilbo observing these goings on with a wise and knowing eye, that he had not stopped until Miriel had already left the stronghold and indeed, Legolas was not even aware that she had gone until Theliel told him.

The kitchen maids were gossiping that Anglach would usually have joined the hunt but he had been prevented by Galadhon, who had still not forgiven him for the dwarves. In fact, Galadhon had insisted to Thalos that Anglach should have further punishment, not only guarding Thorin, who was considered the most difficult and dangerous of the dwarves, but that Anglach should also miss the hunt AND the feast. Thalos had remonstrated with his friend that he was being particularly unfair but Galadhon was unusually grumpy and insistent, and Thalos and he argued about it rather bitterly. As a result, Galadhon was even more taciturn with the dwarves and Thalos stomped about in a great temper which was almost unheard of apparently. The maids looked at each other with wide, excited eyes as if the idea of a furious Thalos was the most exciting and alluring thing they could imagine! (for Galadhon, although very good-looking, was married and expecting a new baby) And no doubt they hoped to be the one to help calm Thalos down.

In the rest of the stronghold, the elves were almost tiptoeing around for the King was in a very bad mood apparently. Bilbo had managed to avoid Thranduil completely after he had overheard that very private and secret conversation between Thranduil and his middle son, Thalos. Bilbo had witnessed the King's own private fear and did not want to intrude again. And both Thranduil and Thalos had seemed particularly aware of the Ring and Bilbo could not take any more chances.

Only Kili seemed pleased for Tauriel had not gone hunting, it seemed she too was out of favour with Galadhon, though Bilbo could not see why. When Anglach was preparing Thorin's supper, Tauriel had been preparing the rest of the dwarves. But Kili spent the time flirting with her and when she wasn't there, he sat and thought up clever things to say to her. He was a lot like Legolas in that way, Bilbo thought fondly.

As it grew late in the evening, Bilbo watched and listened and at some point Galion arrived for the same thing it appeared. He sat on a chair in the middle of the table, with his elbows on the table and got in the way of everyone. The kitchen maids had to pick their way around him and the cooks had to keep moving him when they needed the table or the worktop or bench that he was occupying. Bilbo wondered what Galion actually did most of the time as apart from keeping the keys to the King's cellars, he mainly got in the way, told the King what he thought and irritated the Cook. Gradually the kitchen elves finished their chores and eventually there was only Úrloch and Galion left in the kitchen.

Galion and Úrloch, had a complex relationship. Galion was the King's butler and most trusted servant, it seemed to Bilbo, and Úrloch was the chief cook. Galion constantly tried to order Úrloch about and Úrloch had an attitude of respectful disobedience towards Galion, who was, in almost all things, his senior. But it was clear than Thranduil had forbidden Galion to have anything to do with cooking, and this gave Úrloch an unprecedented authority in his own domain.

It was here that Bilbo found out one reason for the anxious atmosphere. The King's oldest son, Laersul, should have returned in time for feast, but he had sent urgent messages to say he would be delayed; it seemed there were momentous events in the South but no one seemed to know what these were and Bilbo wondered if Gandalf were somehow involved.

'Whatever it is that the Sit-On-Your-Arse Council think they are doing in our Wood,' Galion was saying, 'It will all be part of that Deceiver's plan, you mark my words.' Bilbo knew that Galion was referring to the Necromancer of course, who dwelt in the dreadful and haunted tower of Dol Guldur that had once been the palace of the King's father but the elves had been driven North. The main occupation of the King's warriors was to keep the Necromancer at bay and to fight his evil forces. Bilbo had no idea who or what the Sit-On-Your-Arse Council were though he had often heard him talk of them in highly offensive terms that were usually much more colourful that certainly did not know that Galion referred to the White Council, of which Gandalf was a member.

Úroch cast Galion a disapproving glance as he beat eggs into a huge bowl. He looked like he wished it was Galion he was beating.

'If they think to drive him out of Dol Guldur, then they are fools,' Galion continued. 'I would not be in the least bit surprised to find that he has marshalled forces beyond their calculation and that he sees it as an opportunity to defeat them, and us, once and for all.' Galion looked down at the table glumly. 'Whatever they do, he'll be thumbing his nose at them, you mark my words, and it will be our boys somehow who will pay the price.' He looked up at Úroch, who seemed to agree with this and grunted softly. 'If not now, sometime in the future. And if it was that easy, why didn't they do it before? And why have they suddenly decided to get involved after all these years of us telling them it was more than just some sorcerer, some mere Man who knows a bit of wizardry? Why has it taken them so long and why have we paid so much in blood?' Galion shoved the chair out and stood up. Glaring he stomped off to the cellar leaving Úrloch folding in flour for a cake, and returned moments later with a glass flagon of wine. He held it up in the light to admire the richness of colour and the heavy sediment that had accrued at the base of the glass.

'We need to taste the wine for the feast,' he announced and Úroch raised a fine eyebrow.

'That is Rhovanion?' he observed. 'You do not plan to serve this at the King's table?'

'Of course not! That will be the Dorwinion. I have some casks laid down from Brand's time. We will have to try that tomorrow of course.'

'Of course.'

Bilbo quickly realised that this was a tradition between Galion and Úroch. Soon there were four empty flagons on the table beside them and Galion had carefully selected a new flagon, dust thick upon it, and looked at it with great appreciation before opening it and pouring a generous goblet for his friend, the cook. It must be a heady brew, though Bilbo, for the Wood-elves could drink a very great deal before they were even slightly affected and both elves were laughing loudly quite quickly. At one point Galadhon had come in, obviously patrolling and checking on the dwarves. He had glared at Galion crossly before stomping, as much as any elf could, out of the kitchens and back on patrol.

Now it had grown very late.

'Ah Galion, that is a good wine,' Úroch was saying, and he looked at the deep red colour of the wine appreciatively. 'I haven't had a vintage as good as this for a while.'

'Yes, this is the best year I think, since…well, since the Dragon came certainly. Even before then I think.' Galion smacked his lips together and then belched quietly. Bilbo winced for he had witnessed Galion's manners and it would not have done in the Shire.

'The best year I ever tasted was the saddest year also,' Úroch said, looking troubled. 'The year the Queen was taken from us.' He shook his head. 'A terrible time.' He glanced quickly at Galion and away but Galion was staring into his goblet and did not see that soft look on the cook's face

Bilbo shuffled forwards on his stool. The elves were too far gone to pay any attention to him and he had been able to help himself to food for they would assume they had eaten it during their sampling, he thought. He was curious to hear more for he had only heard hints and suggestions of Mirkwood's history.

'Indeed… I thought we were going to lose Thranduil that year,' Galion said heavily. 'And Legolas. Little mite. There was no one to care. Laersul though, took both the little ones in hand, although Thalos was not so little of course. But I think without him, we would have lost Legolas.'

'Without you, we would have lost them all,' Úroch said with uncharacteristic generosity. 'I remember you dragging him out by his ear almost and shouting at him. Look at yourself!, you said.' He laughed softly. 'What would our queen have said if she saw what you have become! A nothing! What would your poor dear father say? He would have beaten you soundly until you woke up and saw what you are doing to our Wood.'

'I do believe that it was not I, but the sight of our boys that brought him back to us,' Galion said but he looked sheepishly proud all the same and so Bilbo thought that what Úroch said was probably true.

'I know that you and I have our differences, Galion,' the cook said, and his words were a little slurred and he had an affectionate look on his face. 'But you shook our dear Aran until his teeth rattled and snapped him out of his misery enough at least to get us back on our feet after our terrible losses.' He sighed. 'We all lost someone you know. I think there was not one family who did not feel the same as he, but he showed us that we would survive it all.'

'Aye. Every one of us.' Galion wiped an eye surreptitiously. 'I know you lost kin as well. And I lost too, but if we lost our Aran we would lose ourselves as well and we could not let the Shadow have everything, damn his blackened soul.'

Úroch tipped the flagon up and held it over his goblet. 'Eru. Do you remember Dagorlad? What a place.' One slow drop crawled to the lip of the flagon and teetered there for a moment before slowly plopping into his cup. Úroch looked disappointed. 'And you took in Anglach. Him and Legolas, poor motherless little tikes the both of them.' He wiped his eye now on his apron and then caught Galion's eye and grinned. 'So it's your fault they've turned out the way they have.'

Galion pushed his chair back and paused for a moment. Then he gave a very loud belch. 'Wood-elves through and through.' He beamed. Rising to his feet, he staggered towards the cellar door and bumped into it before finally making his way into the cellar. Bilbo could hear him selecting another bottle muttering to himself and chinking flagons and bottles.

Much later, Úroch had his head on his arms and was snoring soundly and Galion was still talking to himself, and Bilbo knew that Anglach had brought into the palace any number of black squirrels, baby hedgehogs, deer, mice - mostly with Legolas' collusion until the spider baby; that had not ended well. But more importantly, Bilbo had discovered something; the empty barrels from the King's cellar went down a shute into the forest river, where they were taken to Esgaroth by the raft elves.

Esgaroth, he had discovered before during a conversation between Thalos and Legolas, had a Master with several daughters and a rather wayward wife by the sounds of it. The town lay at the mouth of the unimaginatively named Long Lake. The Long Lake was at the foot of the Lonely Mountain. Erebor.

Bilbo squeezed himself with delight; he had a plan. All he needed to do was to get the dwarves from their cells to the shute and pack them into barrels and wait for them to be released into the river. Easy.

He just needed the keys.

Angalch had Thorin's keys. He kept them on a hook in the kitchen so he did not lose them.

Galadhon had the other keys and he kept them on his belt. So he did not lose them.

Bilbo's excitement wore off with the realisation of this. He would never be able to get the keys from Galadhon.

He would have to think of another way.

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