Chapter Text
“I... I had a terrible dream that...” Bilbo wheezed a cough and clutched tighter at Thorin’s fingers in the warm light of this room. He couldn’t recall how he got here, he couldn’t remember what had happened. Not even a little. The way Thorin was gazing down at him, though his eyes were nearly too bleary to see it, was troublesome in how worried he looked. Was Bilbo in that bad of shape?
“It was merely a dream,” Thorin interrupted, nodding at him minutely, “You are going to be alright. I will see to it, I promise you.”
There was something edgy in Thorin’s voice that Bilbo couldn’t quite put his finger on. Something wasn’t right. As he tried to sit up and get a better look around, Thorin shushed him and pressed him back down into the soft mattress.
“Everything will be fine,” Thorin assured, before Bilbo could even inquire as to what was going on. Thorin’s fingers slipped out of Bilbo’s own as the guards wrenched him to his feet and away. He wanted to fight back and stay by Bilbo’s side, make sure he healed completely, makes sure that he was well taken care of. The elves, however, had other plans.
“Thorin!” Bilbo shouted hoarsely as the dwarf was dragged from his sight, his heavy boots shuffling against the floor until he disappeared out of sight.
When left alone, panic began to settle in. Bilbo had to force himself up from the bed, finding his clothes where they were neatly folded. He pulled each article back on in haste, listening keenly for any noise of approaching elves. His body swayed, dizzy, and still quite weak. Bilbo, before this moment, had been inclined to trust elves. Lord Elrond had been so kind, but... Seeing his friend... No. More than friend... dragged from this chamber like a common prisoner, well, that did not sit well with Bilbo. Weakened or not, he was going to find Thorin and get him out of here.
He dug about in his pocket and there, still resting in his pocket thankfully, was his ring. Something in the back of his mind niggled for his attention, like a whisper, a voice that told him put it on and Bilbo wasn’t keen to resist. Leaning heavily against the bed for support his slipped the ring on his finger. In a rush, the world began to swirl, and Bilbo fell over with a dull thud against the floor. If he hadn’t been cripplingly dizzy before, he was now. The strangely chaotic edge the world took when he wore the ring was a bit overwhelming, but something in him begged to carry on.
He pressed his palms against the floor and clambered to his feet, stumbling toward the door. He knew he had only a small window of time before the elves would notice his absence, and any attention that was called to him would only make helping Thorin, and likely the rest of the company, get out of here that much more difficult.
Somehow, his feet seemed to know where to go, that niggling in his mind whispering in a language he didn’t understand but urging him downward, left and right, ducking away from the long legged strides of the wood elves, down toward the sound of rushing water. Bilbo could feel it change the air around him, a damp, coolness. As he came down a carved stone stairwell he saw there, the river, rushing through. There he also saw cells crafted in the rock. Within them he saw his company, a somber bunch, quiet and weary.
They were being guarded by two near identical elves, and Bilbo, with his clouded mind, was struggling just to stay upright. There was no way he could take on two elves to rescue his friends.
From the belt of one of the elves he saw the keys hanging... If he was able to get those keys...
I could set them free and as a group maybe we could overpower them... But how to get out of here after that?
He gave the area another look around, and spotted a pyramid of barrels. Wine that was aging and fermenting in the cool dark space... It was with that, that his plan fully formed.
Silently, Bilbo padded over to the cells, nearing Thorin where the dwarf was leaned sideways against the bars, watching the elves with a look of rancor on his regal and sharp features. As Bilbo knelt beside the king, and gently reached out. He nearly touched before he considered what sort of start that might give the dwarf so he thought better of it.
“Thorin,” his whisper was lost to the elves under the rush of the water, but he was nearly pressing his face against the cage to get close to Thorin. Thorin seemed to recognize his voice, his brows rising slightly in attention. He did not move his head, but his gaze darted around, looking for the halfling, a slight crease of worry forming.
“I am beside you, Thorin, even though you cannot see me. I am here. Do not call attention to us. I have a plan to get you all out,” Bilbo whispered, reaching through the bars to gently press a hand against Thorin’s chest, assuring him that it was not his imagination. Thorin’s fingers twitched, wishing to reach up and curl around the hobbit’s grasp, but he did not move. He could not risk it. If the elves saw they would grow suspicious immediately.
“Did they confiscate Ori’s sling?” Bilbo inquired, glancing over at the youngest dwarf, Thorin lowered his head as if dozing and whispered back.
“No. It remains with him. They viewed it as a toy... Harmless,” Thorin informed. Bilbo watched the elves to see if they’d noticed yet, but they had not. They were steadfastly looking straight ahead, looking painfully bored.
“Good. Tell Ori to fire some pebbles at the elves once I have retrieved the keys from them. The distraction will allow just enough time for me to unlock the cell doors before they can stop me. Then you all must rush out and over power them. Push them into the river and let the current wash them away, that should do the trick. Then we will empty those barrels of wine and use them to escape on that very same current. It will be dangerous, but we can manage I think. Two elves is certainly no great foe after taking on an army of goblins, a pack of orcs, or giant spiders.”
Bilbo’s hand pressed a little harder and his words of reassurance lended the dwarf strength. Thorin lifted his head and leaned it against the bars, and in return, Bilbo nestled his nose against the dwarf’s cheek. His breath ghosted across Thorin’s face and it seemed to bring him comfort.
“Are you sure you are well enough to do this, Bilbo?” Thorin asked, his lips barely moving as he spoke.
“Of course not, but that hardly seems reason to stop and turn back now,” Bilbo uttered back. Thorin fought not to smile, and then, Bilbo’s presence was gone from the cell side. Thorin ushered Ori over and spoke to him in hushed tones as Bilbo crept across the slick floor toward the elves. Tension mounted as he carefully, oh so carefully, reached out and unclipped the keys from the elf’s belt. He backed away quickly, just in time to see Ori reaching through the bars and firing off pebbles, one hitting the elf he’d just robbed square on the temple.
In a near silent rage the elves marched over to the side of the cell to try and wrestle the slingshot away from the young dwarf, the commotion calling everyone to attention. Bilbo had to act quickly, going to the door and sliding the keys in the lock. With a few quick movements the door was open and the dwarves were rushing out. It took very little effort to drive the two elf guards right off the platform’s edge and into the water. Their golden heads disappeared beneath the surface of the black, rushing current and they were gone.
Bilbo slipped off the ring to aid the dwarves in emptying each of the barrels but he quickly lost strength, his body still quite weak from the spider venom. Thorin did not notice the hobbit sway, his attention focused more upon getting each of the company into a barrel, floating down the waterway and out of this nightmare. As the last of his company was safely on their way down stream it was then Thorin saw him. Bilbo leaned heavily against the stone wall, looking pale, worse for wear, ready to collapse at any moment.
“Come Master Baggins. You do not have my permission to give up just yet,” Thorin said firmly, helping Bilbo into a barrell as well. Bilbo curled up in the bottom of the vessel and was lost to Thorin’s line of sight quickly. Last in the water, was the king under the mountain, hoping, as they fought to keep their barrels upright, that they ended up somewhere safer. Somewhere he could see to his hobbit properly.
Somewhere he could thank Bilbo Baggins for his foolish bravery.