A/N Sorry for the like two week hiatus in updating! I had papers then exams and went to Berlin for a few days so it was all very busy :O Thanks as always to those of you who took the time to review, it means a lot! :') Hope you enjoy!
Thorin looked from the floor to where Bilbo still had a smile on his face. Rather than launch into an intricate plan that the hobbit had hoped the dwarf prince had been meticulously plotting and formulating; Thorin shifted his eyes uncomfortably to the side.
"Well… I haven't exactly had the opportunity to consider the layout of our enemy's stronghold yet. It would be unwise to try and plot any sort of ill-thought escape pla—"
"You don't even have the faintest idea do you…" Bilbo interrupted Thorin who had tried to puff out his chest in a forced show of leadership as he scowled at the hobbit.
"I did not say that, Master Baggins—"
The hobbit stood up before Thorin could finish his sentence, "You don't need to say it, Thorin," Bilbo let out an exasperated chuckle as he considered the dwarf who was so determined to appear infallible, "I know a load of old toss when I hear it."
Bilbo waved off the dwarf's indignant 'hmph' and started to pace several feet in front of Thorin, holding his chin in his hand, "What we need is a good escape plan, a very good escape plan… Though I've only really seen the cell area and where the guards sleep. I suppose I could go out and explore for a –"
The hobbit didn't have the opportunity to finish his sentence as Thorin shot in suddenly, "No, you will not risk yourself being captured."
Bilbo raised his eyebrow and an unimpressed frown, "And what exactly do you suggest? Go and talk to the elves?"
The dwarf let out a growl and made to stand up probably, Bilbo thought, to use his definite height advantage in order to intimidate the hobbit. Though this action was rather less impressive and rather more extremely worrisome due to Thorin collapsing almost immediately with a pained groan.
"Thorin!" Bilbo hissed in surprise as he surged forward to catch the dwarf's quickly slumping shoulder. 'Stupid, stupid hobbit!' Bilbo thought to himself angrily, 'of course he's still hurt! And all this imprisonment business probably hasn't make it any better!'
"Thorin, are you alright?" The hobbit helped Thorin gently lower himself to the ground again with slightly labored breaths.
"I am…" the dwarf winced as he settled again, "I am fine. Just… I fear I may have reopened some of the wounds."
Bilbo felt his hand unconsciously clench the fur on Thorin's great coat as a frown spread across his face."Why didn't you say anything?"
The dwarf looked over sideways at his companion as he rolled his eyes, "I did just wake up, Master Baggins, unless you forgot about your less than considerate rousing not more than five minutes ago…"
The hobbit flushed to the tips of his ears. Perhaps shaking Thorin for all he was worth had not been the… best decision he had made recently. "I… uh, sorry… about – about that." Though as Thorin raised a dark brow at him, Bilbo felt none of his embarrassment lessen, "Let's just uh, let's just… get those wounds looked at; I've still got some of Master Beorn's balm left."
There. That was something Bilbo Baggins knew he could do competently enough and would serve as a much-needed distraction for his nervously waving hands that tried their best to shoo the embarrassment away.
Thorin gave a little sigh and shrug as he started to shift off his coat. It seemed to Bilbo that he had finally impressed upon the dwarf that fighting him on healing of all subjects would simply end in Thorin getting aggravated but inevitably still under the careful hands of the hobbit. 'As well he should,' Bilbo thought with no small measure of pleasure that Thorin was finally letting some of that stubborn pride go.
As the dwarf slowly took off layer upon layer of mail then cloth, Bilbo sat down his pack. It took him only a few moments to locate the earthen jar the balm resided in his bag. Turning around, Bilbo almost dropped the medicine with a gasp as his eyes met the sight of the dwarf's back.
The bruises left from Azog's great mace seemed to have gotten even worse, their color deep shades of purple and blue intertwined in angry and beaten flesh. What worried Bilbo the most, however, was not the multitude of large dark marks, but rather the four great lacerations that the white warg had left that seemed to have reopened and were now leaking a most unpleasant puss. The skin around the claw marks was a puckered, angry red and, to Bilbo's horror, starting to look slightly green in some places.
"Oh, Thorin…" Bilbo gave a little groan as he slowly walked towards the dwarf's back, "what did they do to you?" Reaching out a slightly trembling hand, the hobbit – as gently as he could – placed a single finger on one of the better-looking bruises.
Thorin arched forward away from the touch and let out a small grunt. "They… There was a disagreement when I first arrived. Let's just say some of the guards are looking even worse."
Though the hobbit couldn't see Thorin's face, he could just about picture the look of grim satisfaction on the dwarf as he remembered whatever damage he had done to some of the eleven guards.
"You fool…" Bilbo almost whispered as he saw Thorin's shoulders tense, "you really shouldn't have done that, what were you thinking?"
The dwarf glared over his left shoulder, "I was thinking the filthy traitor that betrayed my people was mere feet from me and nothing, nothing," Thorin let out a bitter laugh, "would have delighted me more than tearing his head from his body."
Bilbo met the gaze of the one eye of Thorin's he could see. There was something resting deep in the bright blue of the price's expression; a pain and a… hunger for something Bilbo hoped he would never fully understand.
He had seen a similar look in the dwarf's eyes the last night in Rivendell when Thorin had accused him of understanding nothing of his hatred and the suffering of his kin. However, now there was something new; there was something starved, like a ravenous man had been given a taste of one of Bombur's succulent roast rabbits only to have it torn away from him after a single bite and then dangled from a tree, just out of reach.
Revenge, Bilbo realized, was something Thorin thought to be just within his grasp now. Not some sort of abstract ideal that could possibly be attained sometime in the distant future. No, as the hobbit looked into Thorin's face, he could see as clear as a sunny day in the Shire, the dwarf prince thought he could and would get his vengeance soon.
As the hobbit looked from Thorin's expression to the dwarf's horribly injured back, he could not help but feel that the pursuit of his revenge in the elf's very own palace was not only incredibly foolish, but also extremely suicidal.
'This is…' Bilbo took a small gulp of air, frantically trying to think of ways to calm the dwarf's fury, 'not good. Not good at all.' Maybe if he could… Maybe if he could figure out just what exactly the elf-king had done, he could try and persuade Thorin that escape should be paramount.
Remaining silent as he thought, Bilbo stuck a hand into the balm and gently started to apply the salve as softly as he could. The moment the medicine touched the inflamed and angry flesh on Thorin's back, the dwarf let out a low grown of satisfaction; his thunderous scowl lessening into one laced with relief.
"Were you…" Bilbo began slowly, "Did the elves get you from the spiders like the rest of the company?"
Thorin shook his head slightly, "No… At least I do not believe so. The last thing I remember are my fool nephews and you," the dwarf looked back with another accusatory glare, "running off into that infernal forest. When you hadn't returned, we went out searching in groups. And then I think we… must have been cast under some sort of spell. Passed out within minutes of leaving the path."
Bilbo continued his slow and careful work of rubbing the balm into Thorin's wounded back as the dwarf spoke. "When I woke up, I was being dragged into the traitor's hall. I saw Thranduil's face," Thorin spat the elf-king's name as if the very sound poisoned his tongue, "and my opportunity to get my revenge. If I hadn't already been injured by that wretched orc, I would have his head on my sword this very moment."
Thorin looked back at Bilbo with a bloodthirsty smile that shook Bilbo to the very core. He had seen the dwarf fight, he had seen the dwarf kill, but never with such a… delight and eagerness to commit the act. He had to do something to get Thorin away from these dangerous thoughts or the hobbit feared what might become of his friend.
Bilbo steeled himself for his next question, knowing in his heart that it could very well turn Thorin's friendship away from him. But, as he looked at foreign expression of greedy death that was etched across the dwarf's face, Bilbo knew he had no choice but to find someway to steer Thorin away from this all-consuming need.
"What happened Thorin? What happened the day Smaug attacked?" The hobbit refused to look at the dwarf's face, fearing Thorin's rage and hurt directed towards him again. He didn't want to pry, but Bilbo thought the only way he could possibly help was if he actually knew from Thorin himself what his friend had lost that day.
There was a minute of infinitely long silence as the hobbit continued to work on Thorin's back but still refused to look up from his task. The longer the tense stillness stretched, the more Bilbo felt his fear grow that he had crossed some sort of line, that he tried to delve far past where the dwarf was willing to let anyone in.
"The day…" Thorin began quietly, not facing the hobbit and shoulders tensing, "the day the dragon attacked was one of the worst in my life." Bilbo looked up suddenly at the dwarf's voice, his hand halting its task as his friend spoke.
"It began as hundreds of others before it. We delved further into the mountain and our kingdom flourished. If anyone had told me that was the last day of prosperity Erebor would see, I would have laughed in their face."
Thorin leaned his head forward until it rested in one of his large hands. "Erebor was strong. Our stone was impervious to even the sharpest swords, our trade with Dale and the other dwarven kingdoms had never been more lucrative, even watching my father rule seemed almost… boring in its simplicity. Life for us was good."
"The only thing that seemed to be wrong was my grandfather's growing lust for the golden hoard that had amassed within out halls." Bilbo started to work the balm into the deep grooves that the warg's claws had left, though the dwarf seemed thankfully distracted from the pain as he continued his story. "It seems… obvious to me now that the reason the dragon attacked was probably due to my grandfather's greed but at the time, I… Well, I suppose I couldn't even comprehend a danger our walls couldn't defend against."
"Life was peaceful. My sister had just given birth to a strong and healthy dwarfling, ensuring our line would be continued and my… brother, he…" Thorin stopped briefly as his face slumped further into his hand. "He was off avoiding responsibility as usual, probably off in Dale or somewhere around the lands that lay on Erebor's doorstep.
Bilbo looked up saddening, 'wait… had Thorin said his brother?' the hobbit thought confused.
"You – you have a brother? I never knew…"
The dwarf let out a pained sigh, "I had a brother. He… died that day. I still find it painful to speak of. Dwalin tells me I should talk of him more, if only to get some sense of... closure I suppose, but he knows it makes me uncomfortable so even he does not mention Frerin often."
The hobbit felt his heart clench in a deep and painful sadness as he resumed his work on the cuts. It seemed to him that Thorin's losses knew no bounds and the more he discovered about the dwarf, the more Bilbo found that the memories Thorin held were far too often intimately intertwined with tragedy.
"Frerin was… quite like Fili, now that I think on it. They both hold their family and their duty closest to their hearts, but they do not… They are both happier… freer without the pressures of the throne to weigh upon their shoulders."
"My brother never truly felt any great measure of fulfillment by running a kingdom from a distant throne. He had to learn, of course, as he was in line for the throne behind myself; but Frerin always felt his duty to the people was better fulfilled by interacting with them directly, by going to new and foreign places so that he could enrich the kingdom with knowledge and experience. He… dearly loved to explore and find adventure."
Thorin's shoulders relaxed minutely as he spoke of his brother, his voice fond but tender in its sadness. "Fili will be a fine king once I am gone, just as Frerin would have been, but I fear… I fear that ruling from a throne will stifle his spirit as it would have smothered Frerin's..."
Thorin let out another pained sigh.
"The day Smaug attacked, Frerin was out. Probably exploring the forests around Dale for new resources for the kingdom. He must have seen the fires of Dale first and run back to Erebor."
Bilbo, finished with putting salve into the grooves of the cuts, started on the mass of bruises that resided at the center of Thorin's back. But unlike before, Bilbo made sure as he applied the medicine, his fingers lightly made comforting circles, just so he could try and convey some sort sympathy for his friend.
Thorin seemed to lean back slightly into the touch, but never lifted his face from his palm. "Once the dragon reached our walls, there was so much death. The stone of Erebor did little to halt the fury of the dragon's wrath and the screams were deafening within minutes."
"I found Dís and my father as soon as I could and did my best to get them out. Our soldiers were decimated within half an hour of the dragon's attack and I…" Thorin tensed once again, "I prayed Mahal would keep Frerin away from Erebor."
"We got out as many of the citizens as we could but there was so little time to warn anyone. The streets were littered with charred, wailing corpses as far as you could see." Bilbo shuddered at the image in his mind; scarcely able to imagine the sheer amount of carnage Thorin must have witnessed that day.
"I tried to rally our troops, but the beast tore through us as if we were little more than wisps of smoke. As the dragon moved towards the treasure room, I saw Dís had… my sister stayed behind to make sure all her kin also escaped. She told me our grandfather was still trapped with the treasure."
Bilbo couldn't help but let out a small shiver of fear, it was unsettling to hear that the place they were going, that their very goal was guarded by the same beast that had completely destroyed an entire kingdom in less than an hour.
"I told Dís to leave, that I would go find Thror. She tried to refuse, of course, but I reminded her that Fili would need his mother more than ever in the face of such destruction. I was able to rescue my grandfather just in time, though it was not easy. Thror… refused to leave."
Bilbo looked up sharply to the back of Thorin's head, "What? Why?" the hobbit couldn't help but interject, not quite understanding why anyone would want to stay near a giant, flesh-eating, fire-breathing monster.
"His…" Thorin began slowly, as though he was not sure himself what the answer was, "love of gold had become an obsession. He said he would rather die with his riches than leave but I managed to drag him out through the smoke and chaos."
"We finally made it back through the gates, but as soon as we… as soon as we emerged, Dís ran up to us shouting that Frerin had – had gone in after me." Thorin took the hand from his forehead and looked down into his empty palms, as if he saw the blood of an entire city leaking out from the lines that covered them.
"I felt… the deepest despair I had ever experienced in my life. I could imagine only the end my kin, my very own brother, could be meeting because he was trying to save me." Thorin clenched his fists together, "until I looked up to the ridge that bordered our lands with those of Mirkwood. Thranduil was there," the dwarf's fists squeezed together so tightly small trickles of blood started to leak from where his fingernails dug into his palms.
"The elf," Thorin spat, "that had pledged eternal friendship and aid between our kingdoms had an entire army of swords, ready and armored. I allowed myself to hope for that moment, like the fool I am. I allowed myself to think that I could still save my brother because our trusted allies had come to our aid."
"But as I waited, as the minutes passed, I realized my people's cries for mercy, for swift a death to end their pain, meant nothing to Thranduil. The traitor just looked on, even as I pleaded for aid. But apparently," Thorin hissed, his hands now bloody, "loyalty means nothing to scum like the elves. They turned and left us to face the wrath of the dragon alone. I knew then I could never forgive, I could never forget my people could have been spared some of their suffering, that my brother might have – might have lived, if the elves were not a simpering load of oath-breakers."
Bilbo looked down at the dwarf's hands and moved around to Thorin's front. Kneeling down in front of his friend, the hobbit took the prince's clenched fists in his own and held onto them.
"It was…" Thorin shook his head, his eyes squeezed shut, "it was my fault Frerin died that day. He would not have gone in to face the dragon's wrath if he had not been looking for me."
Bilbo, as gently as he could, pried the tight fists open until they slowly began to release. Thorin opened his eyes and looked at Bilbo. For the first time, Bilbo saw in the dwarf's expression his need for absolution, for forgiveness. Not from anyone, but from himself. For no one loathed Thorin and held him more responsible for the burdens and death his kin had suffered more than he.
"I should have – should have known the elves were going to betray us. I should have known the moment those traitors pledged allegiance." Bilbo held Thorin's gaze but said nothing as he used the cuff of his coat to wipe up the blood that spread across the dwarf's hands.
Once they were relatively clean, Bilbo reached down and got some salve on his fingers before rubbing it into the crescent shaped cuts that lined each of the prince's palms. "Thorin…" the hobbit started softly, "you… you need to forgive yourself."
The dwarf's expression turned into one of guilt and pain.
"It was not your fault," Bilbo took one of Thorin's hands into each of his own, "whatever happened that day, you were not responsible."
The dwarf closed his eyes again, ready to pull away, but Bilbo simply held onto the prince's hands tighter, refusing to let go when he finally had the chance to make some small amount of difference in Thorin's life.
"I believe it is… easy to blame yourself, to make yourself the sole bearer of that great burden," Bilbo kept his grip firm as he spoke, "because acknowledging that it was chance or – or some great misfortune means that life can be… well, that it can be so incredibly cruel and ruthless without cause."
"When we take the blame for these things, it gives us something to—to channel that anger towards, gives us something to make sense of what can be pointless acts of violence or losses of life. What is hard, what truly takes strength is accepting that sometimes we are insignificant. That no matter what we did or could've done, it wouldn't really have made any difference in the face of such chaos."
Thorin stared at Bilbo, his expression unreadable and foreign to the hobbit as he continued to talk, "What happened to your people, to your brother, was not done by your hand Thorin. You did everything within your power to save as many as you could. And if your brother is anything like Fili," the hobbit stared back at Thorin, determination pouring into every word, "I know he would not be very happy with you taking on such a burden in his name. He would want you to live, as you wanted him to live, free and happy."
"I won't pretend to understand how you feel about Thranduil and the elves, but right now, we all need to get out of these blasted cells. Nothing good will come of you seeking revenge while you're still injured." Bilbo squared his shoulders to show Thorin he meant what he said, "You'd ruin any chance for your company to escape. And, for what it's worth, I don't think your brother would approve of your own peace of mind being prevented because you want revenge in his name. But even if you do; now is most certainly not the time to try and get it."
Bilbo squeezed Thorin's hands one last time, "You mean more to your nephews and the rest of this company than I think even you know. Please, please do not throw away your chance for you and for them to see Erebor again. I think – I think Frerin would be happiest knowing you got back home and… even more so if you – if you forgave yourself for something that was never your fault."
The hobbit was about to pull his hands away, when he felt Thorin grip them tightly. Looking up at his friend curiously, Bilbo couldn't quite make out the expression on the dwarf's face. "I… will think on what you said, Master Baggins," Thorin began, his voice deadly serious, "I will never be able to forgive the elves for their betrayal that day." The dwarf's face tightened before he let out a great sigh, "But… I believe you are right about Frerin. He would want us to return home… he would want his nephews to see the great halls of Erebor restored to their former glory. And he – he would want Dís and I to be… to be happy. More than anything."
Bilbo sent Thorin a warm smile, "Good, then we continue on as planned! We just need a, uh, plan first. An actual plan."
Thorin let go of Bilbo's hands with a nod and leaned back, rolling his shoulder in its socket with a wince.
The hobbit frowned as he stood up again. "You," he pointed at Thorin, "need more rest as those wounds heal. I don't think any escape plan, not matter how good, is going to go well if you're that injured."
Thorin crossed his arms in opposition, "I am fine, the sooner we get out of here the better."
Bilbo let out a little huff; some things, he supposed, would never change, no matter how much he wished the dwarf's stubbornness would've shrunk a bit.
"Fili's wounds healed in a night using that balm, so I think we can wait another for yours. Plus that gives me time to scout the area." Thorin once again looked displeased that Bilbo was going to be sneaking around in the bottom of Thranduil's palace alone, "And seeing as I am not the prisoner," the hobbit sent his friend a sly smile, "I will be the one making the rules. So you," he started to shuffle Thorin into a horizontal position, "rest."
"I…" the dwarf was about to argue further but couldn't seem to find it in himself to genuinely fight the hobbit that was using his vastly inferior strength to try and force a son of Durin to go to sleep. "Oh fine, but… Master Baggins?"
"Hm?" the hobbit replied as he dragged Thorin's coat on top of the dwarf.
"Be careful. And do not do anything idiotic." Bilbo raised an eyebrow, with an unimpressed crossing of his arms.
"…Please."
Bilbo let out a small chuckled as he made his way to the door of the cell, "That's more like it. A little manners from the royalty," Thorin gave Bilbo what he could safely say was the very first petulant pout the prince had allowed grace his face in the hobbit's presence.
"I'll be back before you know it!"
Bilbo quickly padded out of the cell, the door locking behind him. He would have to figure out some way to get the dwarves out of not just their cells but the palace as well… As it dawned on Bilbo just how impossible this task was going to be, he felt the panic start to rise in his chest.
Of course he had tried to sound confident to Thorin and Nori, but he really hadn't even the faintest clue how to go about getting thirteen dwarves out of the elven fortress. Oh, if only they all had magic rings instead of just him, this could be so simple…
The hobbit slipped the ring back on his finger as he made his way to the end of the hallway. He hoped the party was still going on upstairs, as it would provide a very convenient distraction; hopefully one that lasted long enough for him to at least find a way out.
Bilbo crept up to the door and pressed his ear to the wood. He couldn't hear any voices from the other side, which relieved him immensely seeing as how a door inexplicably opening was probably not a usual occurrence, even amongst the elves.
Gripping the handle, Bilbo pushed it open as gently as he could and made his way through to the room on the other side. He turned to close it, but before he could finish his task, the hobbit heard a calm voice from the opposite end of the room.
"Who is there?"
Bilbo's heart all but exploded working in fright and he gave a great jump, his arms failing out as he spun around. Unfortunately, because this was Bilbo Baggins and he was most certainly not a hobbit that performed especially well when scared, Bilbo felt his right foot catch on his left as he whirled around.
The hobbit fell to the floor with a great crash as he hit one of the chairs by the door and sent it tipping over as well. Bilbo held his smarting chin as he lay on his stomach, feeling dread pool in his stomach. Even though he was invisible, there was no way the elf in the room hadn't noticed the racket and general mess.
Oh this was so very typical. Of course Bilbo Baggins, in one of the only times in his life when stealth and silence were essential, would end up crashing about the room in a whirlwind of destructive clumsiness. The hobbit looked up to see the elf that had walked over near where Bilbo was laying was in fact the same elf that lead the party that had taken the dwarves prisoner.
'Oh no,' Bilbo thought miserably, 'he's probably some sort of – of warrior! Some sort of dwarf-hating, hobbit-devouring, master of torture and pain that will – will do unspeakable things with red-hot pointies!'
"You might as well show yourself. No point pretending you didn't just knock down half the furniture." The pale-haired elf had a wry smile on his fair face, a smile that indicated a good nature and… perhaps not an inevitable exercise in pain and mutilation?
Bilbo hardly wanted to trust the slight welling of hope in his chest as he searched the elf's face for something sinister. "I will not harm you," the elf's eyes scanned over the place on the floor Bilbo was still laying on, "I promise."
Everything Thorin had told him about this particular sect of elves had done nothing to engender the hobbit towards them, but on the other hand… The elves he had met in Rivendell had been very pleasant towards him. And this elf had just promised not to hurt him…
"I… don't want to show myself." There. He would talk but he wouldn't take off his ring until he was sure the elf really harbored no ill will. The elf immediately looked at the place where Bilbo's voice had come from.
"Understandable but also not very forthcoming," the elf let out a small chuckle, "I believe it is considered rather rude to so blatantly turn down an extension of trust."
Bilbo frowned as he looked at the lithe elf, "And why should I trust you when you were the one to take my friends captive?"
The elf tapped his chin in contemplation, "I rather suppose you shouldn't, but the fact remains that you are the one in the rather unfortunate position of having been caught sneaking."
The hobbit stood up, brushing off his pants before he really took in the elf's appearance. He was dressed in a fine shimmering, silver tunic that almost looked to be made of lustrous leaves delicately strung together. Though Bilbo had never seen an elf not dressed well, this one seemed to be clothed in especially fine garments.
Just his luck that the elf would be some sort of important noble or someone equally obligated to report his presence to the king. The elf seemed to sense that Bilbo's silence meant the hobbit was no closer to revealing himself than he was a minute ago.
"Perhaps you would find it easier to trust me if you knew my name…" The elf seemed to be thinking out loud before he righted himself and gave a deep bow in the direction of Bilbo's voice, "I am Legolas."
Bilbo squirmed uncomfortably for a moment, years upon years of social training made him want to give his name in return, his father's scolding voice swimming in his ears, telling him not to be rude. "I'm… Bilbo…" he muttered cursing his inability to avoid the pleasantries of introductions.
"Well Bilbo, it is a pleasure to make you acquaintance. Though that is a very unsusal name for a dwarf." Legolas raised a pale brow as he shot the hobbit a sly smile.
"That's because I'm not a dwarf." Bilbo crossed his arms feeling more and more conflicted. The elf… well, he seemed nice enough… Though the thought of what Thorin would say if he knew Bilbo was contemplating trusting the elf gave him pause.
"Hm," Legolas resumed the tapping on his chin once again, "so you are not a dwarf, you are somehow invisible, and have taken to sneaking around the cells of Mirkwood. You are a very unusual individual."
Bilbo couldn't help but let out a small chuckle, "Yes… I – I suppose I am."
Legolas laughed as he clapped his hands together, "Would it be too forward of me in our budding friendship to ask just why, exactly, someone like yourself would be going into visit the dwarves? If you are not one of them, I do wonder why you would want to speak with them at all."
"I'm…" Bilbo started hesitantly, "not sure I should tell you that."
The elf pouted as he crossed his arms, "That is a shame, for I find myself to be very curious."
Bilbo started to worry the hem of his jacket, "How do I know you won't just report whatever I say to your leader…"
Legolas let out another bright chuckle, "You don't, of course, but I will give you my word if it would put your mind at ease."
Bilbo let out a frustrated sigh, this was… complicating matters. Perhaps if he could figure out just why the elf wouldn't simply report him, the hobbit could use the elf to find a way out.
"I am… traveling with the dwarves."
Legolas nodded at his voice, "That would make sense. Are you always invisible? Some sort of spirit perhaps?"
Bilbo sat down on one of the chairs behind him, feeling that this conversation was not going to be done quickly. "Uh… no, not a spirit, no. I have an… item that keeps me hidden."
"That must be a very rare and powerful item then, my friend, something quite magical. Why was your company traveling through our forests?"
Bilbo hesitated, not sure how much to reveal quite yet, "We are… trying to get somewhere."
Legolas rolled his eyes with a smile, "Yes, that much is obvious, my friend."
"We are on a – a, uh, quest of sorts I suppose. To get back something lost to my companions."
Legolas pondered for a moment before his face fell into a small frown, "Was your company, by chance, taking the northern pass before you wandered off the path?"
Bilbo gulped, not liking the sudden look of concentration on the elf's face. "Uh… yes?"
Legolas leaned forward, his eyes widening slightly as if in comprehension. "The northern pass opens somewhat near the Dale… You travel with a group of dwarves heading towards Laketown, which is very close to the Lonely Mountain…" Bilbo could see that there was no fooling this elf, try though he might to be as circuitous in his responses as he could.
Legolas sighed as he shook his head; "You mean to take back Erebor from the dragon. That certainly explains the presence of Thorin Oakenshield, though I did not think him quite so foolish as this."
"He is not foolish," Bilbo shot in feeling defensive, "maybe a little stubborn, but Thorin is just in his cause."
Legolas seemed to consider the place where Bilbo's voice came from for a moment before tilting his head in apology, "I beg your pardon, my friend, I was merely… surprised. I feel I must warn you, as you are not kin to this quest, the dwarf's chances of success are quite slim."
The hobbit felt the anger rise in his chest, this – this elf who had no idea of the hardship and pain Thorin and the dwarves had endured thus far had no right to pass judgment on their quest! Bilbo knew they would reclaim Erebor, even if the chances were slim.
"Thorin's chances," Bilbo ground out irritably, "are irrelevant. We will get Erebor back, even if – even if you think it is impossible! This company has gone through more suffering than you could ever hope to know, even in all your long years, and that has made them determined."
"I will –" Bilbo spluttered feeling nothing but indignant, "I will do whatever it takes to get my friends out of these blasted cells!" There was a moment of tense silence as the hobbit considered his choices in words were probably not the wisest he had ever chosen, but damn it all! This quest was not going to stop here of all places as long as Bilbo Baggins was fit enough to help.
Legolas let out a bright laugh as he shook his head. "You certainly are a very loyal and brave friend to have! A little brash," the elf gave a little shrug, still smiling, "but you have much heart. I will do what I can to help you Bilbo."
"You… what?" The hobbit began, finding it hard to believe the elf that had been responsible for bringing the dwarves here was now offering to help them escape from the very place he had brought them!
"Why would you want to help us?" Bilbo spoke with no small measure of disbelief.
"Oh because," Legolas began with a sigh and a wave of his long, pale hand, "do I need a reason? Perhaps I am simply a being of immense generosity and selflessness?"
Bilbo raised an eyebrow, "Yes. I think in this case a very good reason for betraying your king would be fundamental in trusting you."
Legolas gave an exaggerated shrug, "I see your friendship is hard won, Bilbo. Alright, if you require a reason then I shall have to concede."
Legolas suddenly looked old. Not in the way hobbits look old after many years of life, but in a way only someone who had seen countless ages of men could look. The bright blue eyes that had been laughing with merriment a second ago now looked much… deeper, he supposed. Much more experienced in both the wonder and cruelty of life.
"Perhaps it is because I…" The elf started slowly, "feel for their plight. I know why it is Thorin Oakneshield hates my kin as furiously as he does. He and his kind have suffered, more than I could ever imagine."
Legolas was silent for a moment but then continued with conviction, "I do not think this quest will be without hardship, Bilbo. But I can hear in your voice the passion needed to succeed. I do not… I do not think my king made the wrong choice that day, but I also do not think my kin are without fault; that we do not need to make amends for the wrongs dealt to out dwarven neighbors, no matter how many elven lives were spared that day."
Bilbo looked up at Legolas with slightly wide eyes, for the first time feeling in his heart that the elf could be trusted. The hobbit remained still for a moment, but then slowly took off the golden ring. With a little pop, Bilbo sprang into visibility.
Legolas looked down at him with a smile, "So you are a halfling. I must say I was not expecting that!" The elf put a long-fingered hand on Bilbo's shoulder, "It is a pleasure to finally see you, little one, the dwarves have found a true and loyal friend in your companionship."
Bilbo smiled up at the elf, "I, uh, thank you, that's… very kind of you to say."
Legolas used the hand on the hobbit's shoulder to usher him towards the guard's table that was piled with more of the delicious food that Bilbo has seen earlier.
"Come now, Bilbo, no need to plan on an empty stomach. You should take advantage of the food, it is especially good tonight." The hobbit chuckled as he sat down, not even pretending not to salivate at the thought of a real, succulent meal.
Bilbo began unceremoniously shoving everything within reach into his mouth before it occurred to him that it was probably a bit strange his new elf friend was not at the party being held in the palace. "Aren't you, uh, I don't know, supposed to be up there and not here? I mean you don't look like a guard…"
Legolas laughed before winking at Bilbo, "A very astute observation, my friend. I must confess though," the elf leaned forward to mock whisper, "I have been to many of these feasts in my life and they can become a bit… dull after a while. I like to wander the halls of the palace when everything starts to get stuffy."
The hobbit nodded, agreeing whole-heartedly that parties, while potentially enjoyable, could also most definitely take a turn for the tedious. Especially when the Sackville-Bagginses came to call.
"So…" Bilbo began as he swallowed a particularly large piece of delicious mushroom, "is there… a way out? I mean one that fourteen can sneak out of undetected of course."
"I…" Legolas started slowly, "think I might have an idea, though it is one that I must investigate further."
Bilbo felt a small wave of relief wash over him; they would escape!
"I will make sure the guards are gone tomorrow night. Bilbo, you should have your dwarves ready to leave by the evening. If all goes well," the elf smiled at him, "you will have a way by then."
The hobbit was about to thank Legolas when they heard the sound of voices coming from the door opposite of the cells. Bilbo felt his eyes widen in shock. The elf stood up quickly, "Make yourself hidden again, my friend, I will be back tomorrow night. Make sure you're ready!"
Bilbo slipped on the ring just as the door banged open and two drunken guards practically fell through. The hobbit scampered as quietly as he could back to the barrels he had slept behind previously, missing the elves' boisterous greeting to Legolas in order to get into his hiding place.
"I've just checked on the prisoners, I think it would be best for you two to get some rest." Legolas looked at the guards, who were barely able to stand, with raised eyebrows.
"We're – we're…" The guard on the left slurred before he gave a giant hiccup.
"We were only gone for a – for a second, don't… don't tell Thranduil!" The guard on the left spoke in a drunkenly hysterical cry. Clearly their absence from duty was not strictly speaking allowed.
"I will say nothing if you go to your quarters now and get some rest."
Legolas started to usher them out the door as they gave sobs of relief, "You are so – so kind and understanding! Nothing like –" the guard hiccupped again as he stumbled out the door, "nothing like the king, he can be so—"
The pale-haired elf laughed as he pushed the guards out of the room, "Yes, yes, that's very nice, now come along."
And with that the hobbit was alone again. The silence was… unsettling as he tried to position himself on the ground to get some rest. After a few minutes of shifting around to get comfortable, Bilbo let out an aggravated sigh and sat up again. He needed to be well rested if they were going to hatch some daring escape tomorrow! This floor was just so – so cold and uncomfortable!
The hobbit sat up and made his way over to the cell door and went through once more. He went over to the first cell opposite of the one Nori had been in earlier and saw mane of blonde hair in the corner. It was Fili! Bilbo picked the lock as quick as he could and made his way over to the sleeping dwarf.
At leas the cells had straw and leaves on the ground to make it at least a bit comfortable. And with Fili here he could stay somewhat warm and hopefully be rested for the next day. Bilbo sat down next to the blonde dwarf and gave him a little poke, "Fili, its me!"
The dwarf shifted slightly before an eye opened and his gaze was met with bright blue. "What? Bilbo? Is that you?" Fili sat up looking around confused, "where are you?"
"Right here," Bilbo placed a hand on Fili's arm and the dwarf gave a small start. "Why can't I see you? I'm not going blind am I? Oh I knew that spider poison was doing permanent damage!"
The hobbit let out a small chuckle, "Your vision is fine, Fili. I've got a, uh, magic ring. Found it in Goblin Town; long story short, it sort of makes me invisible."
Fili let out a little 'oh' of understanding, "So that's how you got passed the goblins. You have quite good luck, Master Baggins," the dwarf laughed with a small hint of disbelief at his friend's fortune, "is… Kili is fine? I thought I heard from another cell but we were all so out of it from the poison, well… it was hard to tell what was real and what tricks our minds were playing on us."
Bilbo patted the dwarf's arm, "Everyone is fine, Fili, and hopefully we'll all be out of here by tomorrow night."
Fili let out a sigh of relief before looking up excitedly, "So you have a plan then?"
The hobbit gave a slightly strained laugh, "I… uh, yes, I think so. Point is we all need to rest tonight so we can be fit to get a move on tomorrow."
Fili winked at the place Bilbo's voice emanated from, "And so you came to me! Always knew I was your favorite dwarf, Master Baggins, even though you said you didn't have one."
The hobbit gave Fili's shoulder a light swat, "Oh hush, you were the closest. Trust me, I don't want to feed your already generous ego."
Fili let out a mock gasp of indignation, "Why Master Baggins, I am shocked and appalled! Perhaps," the dwarf stuck his nose in the air, "you should find some other poor, abused dwarf to cuddle."
Though the dwarf didn't see him, Bilbo rolled his eyes in exasperation, though he couldn't help the swell of easy happiness at their familiar banter. Hopeful optimism that this would work started to build in his chest. Maybe, just maybe, everything would turn out all right for once.
"Iam exhausted. Some of us did more than sleep today."
Fili laughed as he laid down on the straw once more and Bilbo curled up next to him. "Fine, fine, I can see you need your rest, Master Baggins."
The hobbit felt the exhaustion of the last few hours start to weigh on him and soon enough sleep was dragging his eyelids down, pulling him into the realm of unconsciousness as he listened to the steady breathing of the dwarf next to him.
A/N II
Okay so I checked the wiki and is says that Frerin actually died in the battle for Moria but I'm switching some shit up to make it suitably angsty :)
EDIT: I posted a Frerin-centric fic on the day Erebor got smoked, so if you're into that shit, you can check it out on my page thingy