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Chapter Text

"Let all those who doubted us, rue this day!"

"The last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the keyhole."

"We're losing the light, come on!"

"No!"

"The last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the keyhole… that's what it says," dejected and defeated; perhaps a lesser dwarf may have broken down there and then, or maybe even turned their despair to anger. Instead, Thorin turned desperately and beseeching to the elder dwarf like a lost child; as if hoping he may hold the answers. "What did we miss? What did we miss, Balin?"

"We've lost the light, there's no more to be done," gentle but firm, a way of telling his king without directly saying so that it had to be let go. Then turning aside to the others he added. "We had but one chance… Come away lads, it's over."

Bilbo had stood, eyes flitting from one dwarf to another as resignation set in at Balin's words. One by one they turned, one by one, they left.

"Thorin," the hobbit paused, taken aback at the open and obvious grief etched into their leader's face. Not once throughout their entire quest, through all their trials and close scrapes with death and failure had he seen Thorin look as he did now. As if the end of all things had come and little else mattered. For one so set on his task, perhaps that was close to the truth. Bilbo tried regardless. "You can't give up now."

But give up he did; turning away from the hobbit with head hung low and numb fingers letting the key to Erebor fall with a sharp clang, a sound of finality on the hard rock as he moved dejectedly away from the hidden door to follow the Company back down the staircase.

For some time, Bilbo lingered, trying at first to call them back. Then, shuffling this way and that, brow creased in concentration as he attempted to puzzle out the riddle on the map. The map that Thorin had pressed into his hands as he had left, given up for nothing, much like the key.

Usually Bilbo was fond of riddles, took great pleasure in muddling through a seemingly impossible puzzle only to have the pieces smartly fall into place, but not this time. As the shadows grew longer and the air chillier; Bilbo simply could not wrap his head around the infuriating, impossible instructions. They had been in the right place at the right time, they had had the last light of Durin's Day… and still no doorway had appeared; no keyhole… no entrance or clue of any kind.

Balin was right, there was no more to be done and Bilbo was in danger of being left behind if he dallied on the precipice much longer. Not to mention he would now have to navigate the stairway in darkness; not a feat he particularly relished trying to accomplish alone.

Scrubbing a hand through messy curls, Bilbo sighed and shook his head sadly, heart aching for the dwarves he had come to view as close friends over the months. It must feel like losing their home all over again…

Shuffling his way towards the stairway, the hobbit's foot brushed something cool and metallic, Thorin's key. So deep in thought had he been that he'd nearly forgotten the disconsolate king dropping it as he'd left. A symbol of all they had set to gain and all that had been ultimately unattainable. Still Bilbo stooped and picked it up, pocketing it alongside the neatly folded map. It would not do to leave it lying around; even if it had proved useless. He had a feeling that when Thorin felt more like himself again, he would hate himself for leaving the last legacy of his father lying around atop the mountain where anyone or anything might happen across it.

Had Bilbo chanced a look back then, instead of carefully picking his way down the first of many potentially treacherous stairs, he would have seen the faint glow from the newly risen moon shining upon the twinkling outline of a hidden doorway.

But he did not.

As luck would have it, he had not been abandoned to conquer the stairs alone. He was only a few fumbling steps down when he nearly stumbled right into Thorin.

"I thought it only polite to wait for you, Master Baggins. It wouldn't do to have you come all this way and then fall foul of this cursed stairway," Thorin said, voice barely audible and eyes unwilling to move from their fixed gaze upon the rock at his feet.

"Thank you, that's very kind," Bilbo wetted his lips, willing himself to offer some consolation, but felt the words might be cheap. Instead, he carried on in a light-hearted a manner as he could muster. "We may live underground, but I fear hobbit eyes aren't nearly as good in the dark as those of a dwarf. Your guidance here would be most appreciated."

In the shadowed overhang of the stairs, it was nearly dark as midnight, but the light from the moon allowed the hobbit some sight as Thorin finally let his eyes lift from the ground to look at him directly. He hadn't been adopting false modesty when he'd spoken of hobbit eyesight in comparison to dwarves'. It was a truth he'd acknowledged early on in the quest, dwarven eyes were simply better suited to the dark than his own, and merely glancing at Thorin's was proof enough. Pupils blown impossibly wide, Bilbo had surmised a dwarf's eyes worked much like a cat. They certainly never seemed bothered at all by even the darkest of places. Eyes aside, in the wavering light of the moon, Thorin's face was easy to read; utter hopelessness. He had tried to offer a smile, more of a slow lip twitch really, when Bilbo had mentioned his lack of night-vision but it had fallen away in less than a moment. Bilbo dithered then, wondering what to do; a pat on the arm, kind words… what would any of those matter to one who had just lost everything he had worked so hard to attain?

Eventually he settled for good old-fashioned common sense; they should concern themselves with getting down from this blasted mountain first and foremost, then decide what was to be done and how to console a despairing king after.

Thorin broke the awkward silence between them. "I shall lead the way, you follow. That way if you stumble, I should be able to stop you falling."

Bilbo offered a hollow little laugh, accompanied by a small grin as he placed an apologetic hand on the dwarf's shoulder and fumbled his way down another step. "Good to know, only make sure you stay upright yourself won't you? I doubt very much the Company would like us to come crashing down on top of them… where are they anyway?" As they made their slow descent, Bilbo tried to peer over Thorin's shoulder to see if he could spy a glimpse of the others ahead; it was too dark however.

"They have gone on ahead, they did not wish to tarry here needlessly… in light of… well…" Thorin's voice trailed off, still thick with emotion.

"That's understandable," Bilbo's reply was barely a murmur. "We'd best catch up to them then, try and set up camp for the night and then make our way back to Laketown. I'm hoping by the time we get there Kíli will be well on the mend."

He had hoped that mention of their kin left behind might take Thorin's mind off the quests' failure if even for a moment, but instead his shoulders only hunched more, and his voice became hoarser still.

"Kíli, I left him there ill as he was with barely a thought, I was so focused on reaching the door in time… and look what good that was. He is suffering and sick for nothing," the last few words were growled, the anger aimed at himself all too apparent.

"Thorin, it was not for nothing. You weren't to know that-" Bilbo gasped and stifled a curse as he missed his step and stumbled, stopped as promised by Thorin's back, the dwarf barely even budged at the soft impact. Huffing and unperturbed, Bilbo carried on as if nothing had happened, though his legs were a little shaky now. "-that the door would not open. Kíli is fine; he has Oin, Fíli, and Bofur there with him. Knowing your nephew, I suspect he has bounced back already and is using his recovery time to his advantage. It doesn't seem like anything can keep you Durin's down for long… unless I'm mistaken about the ridiculously short amount of time it took you to get back on your feet after the incident with the orcs at the Goblin Tunnels."

Before now, Bilbo's rambling might have gained him a smart retort, or if he were lucky some teasing in return. However, it was a measure of just how low the king's mood had sunk that he offered no reply at all and really what could he expect? Thorin had failed in the quest he had evidently devoted most of his life to; it would likely take a long time for his soul to heal from this.

They continued on in silence after that, Bilbo's stumbling gait patiently borne by the dwarf king until they both made it to the bottom of the staircase where the Company was waiting for them, either lost in quiet thought or else muttering amongst themselves over what to do next.

"Ah, Thorin, Bilbo there you are," Balin was the first to address them, mustering a small strained smile and ambling over to them. His words made the rest of the Company quieten and turn their attention to their king and burglar. "What's the plan now?"

"That's obvious isn't it?" that was Dwalin. "We go back to Laketown and wait until next Durin's Day, try again next year."

"Are you mad? You really thinkin' those fishermen are going t' be willing to put us up for a whole year when we've failed in what we promised 'em?" Nori argued.

"Aye, soon as we set foot back there, we'll be run out of town what with no gold t' show for our troubles. The Lake men gave us food, lodgin', weapons, and clean clothes, if we return with naught to repay 'em with, they'll be mighty sour I'd wager," Gloin harrumphed and agreed with the thief.

"Well if you two got a better plan then let's hear it!"

"Didn't say I had one, just pointin' out the obvious flaw in yours." Nori nonchalantly picked at his nails with one of his knives, sending the warrior a smirk. Dwalin bristled.

"T-there's no need to argue this, I'm sure we can sort something out-" Ori tried to mediate only to be drowned out as Nori and Dwalin started throwing petty insults as per tradition.

Bilbo winced as things seemed to be about to take a rather unpleasant turn, when Dori intervened with a solid cuff to Nori's head and turned to Thorin. "I believe it was our king Balin was asking, not you buffoons. Thorin, do you have a plan?"

"I- I do not kn-"

The king only just seemed to come to himself, having been shaken from some reverie by Dori addressing him directly. Deciding to spare him the embarrassment of speaking with his kin so soon after the failure and admitting he knew not what they were to do next, Bilbo was the one to speak, cutting off the stuttered reply Thorin had begun to give.

"We were actually just discussing that," he lied easily, coming to stand before the others and ignoring Thorin's incredulous stare. His hands were behind his back and he clasped them uneasily where the others could not see as he put forward his thoughts on the matter. "As it is we do need to return to Laketown to gather the others, but it's no use attempting that tonight. I don't know about you lot but I'm well… I'm pretty exhausted. I reckon the best thing to do would be to settle here for the night, then make our way back to Laketown at dawn. We can meet with the others and then- well er…" Bilbo floundered for a few moments, thoughts lightning quick as they jumped from one idea to the next before settling on something definite. "I have to agree with Nori and Gloin. I don't think the people of Laketown will be quite as accommodating if we return without their promised gold. I think we should make our way back to the Shire. Unless I'm much mistaken Ered Luin is not too far from there, correct? I presume that is where most of you will be headed to see family and so on. I think it would be a good idea for you all to stay for a while with me. Think of it as - well as a holiday of sorts, before you return to Ered Luin. I daresay we all deserve some respite."

Had someone told him several months ago that he'd be inviting this rabble back into his home willingly, he would have laughed himself sick, then promptly denied any such possibility. Now though, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to offer them a place to stay. They had failed, they were without their birthright, and Bilbo fiercely believed they did not deserve one bit of the hardship they'd gone through.

If offering his hospitality and a roof over their heads whilst they licked their wounds were all he could do for them… well then, he would gladly do it ten times over.

To his great surprise, it was Bifur who spoke first, striding forward to clasp the hobbit's shoulders firmly, a wide and toothy grin splitting his face as he muttered in Khuzdûl.

"He's thankin' ye," Dwalin was the one to translate, given Bofur's absence. It might have been Bilbo's imagination, but he could swear there was warmth in the warrior's tone that was often lacking. "He says it would be nice to see yer home again. It was very peaceful the last we were there, something we haven't had much of on this quest."

Bilbo chuckled and ducked his head to hide a smile as the dwarves around him began talking all at once, discussing Bilbo's idea and debating over how the trip back would fare; would it be as treacherous as the way here, or easier now they had prior experience? Would the fast approaching winter weather hinder them? Or could they count on the likes of Beorn to aid them should they require a place to stay if storms should hit?

"Master Baggins, what are you doing?" In the commotion, Thorin had gently gripped Bilbo's elbow and steered him a few paces away from the group to quietly question him.

"You need to return to Ered Luin I'm safe in assuming this, you will not be able to stay in these parts between disgruntled fishermen and those cantankerous elves in Mirkwood. Thorin, I'm offering this as a way for all of you to relax a bit… to gather your wits before returning home. I cannot pretend to know what it is you've lost here, but I do know it's come as a blow to all of you that we couldn't get into the mountain. You deserve some rest before you go back to the rest of your people and I am more than willing to offer that. There's nowhere more peaceful than the Shire after all."

Thorin had that odd look on his face again, Bilbo mused. He was all wide eyes and slightly parted lips, looking very much as if he were trying to puzzle through the inner workings of the hobbit's mind and not making much headway. Bilbo wasn't offended by such a stare however, ever since the Carrock that funny look had become warmer, and Bilbo now considered it somehow flattering, though he wasn't quite sure why.

Slowly, Thorin blinked and his lips twitched infinitesimally as if he wanted to smile. "Thank you, Bilbo. We would be honoured to be invited back to your home."

"You're more than welcome… just please make sure your Company doesn't throw my crockery around the kitchen this time."

He was hoping the joke might lighten the dwarf king's mood, and grinned brightly when it actually worked. The small smile on Thorin's face actually widened to show a hint of teeth and he ducked his head to hide the soft huff of laughter before meeting Bilbo's gaze again. "You have my word; there will be no abuse to your belongings whilst we stay."

"Very good, if I remember correctly it was your dear nephews who started that lunacy last time; I feared their uncle might be just as uncouth."

Thorin snorted and waved a hand in a regal gesture, trying his best to look affronted at the suggestion. "Hardly, they get such ill manners from their mother, not I."

"Ah, do they now? I'll be sure to ask them about that when we meet with them tomorrow."

Thorin's silence spoke volumes and Bilbo gave a cough, which sounded suspiciously like concealed laughter. It was heartening to see that Thorin wasn't so far gone in despair that he could no longer appreciate an attempt at humour at least.

It was Balin politely clearing his throat that caught their attention, and turned to see the rest of the Company had finished their discussions regarding the journey home for now, weariness clearly setting in given their long and disappointing day.

"We should probably stay here for the night; some of the lads look dead on their feet." The elder dwarf stepped closer and murmured with a nod to the likes of Ori and Bombur.

"Aye," Thorin nodded his assent to Balin then addressed the group at large. "We will stay here tonight; I'd rather we didn't make a fire if we can help it though. It's far too exposed out here. I'd rather avoid attracting any trouble when we're already down four dwarves as is."

There were noises of agreement as the group began settling themselves down and unpacking supplies. Rations were shared out, and bedrolls made up before the Company began either turning in for the night, or else talking amongst themselves about this and that, from the inconsequential to deeper topics such as the journey back ahead.

Thorin appointed himself to take first watch, and Dwalin to take second, Dori offered to take third.

Lying down on his own bedroll, Bilbo listened to the voices of his companions slowly quieten and snores then take their place. Bilbo himself could not find rest. It was over then… their entire journey and the dragon he had been contracted to face had not even been an issue in the end. It seemed oddly anticlimactic. Not that he was complaining of course. Still it seemed… wrong that it should all end like this; with Thorin a king still without a kingdom, with the dwarves of Erebor still essentially homeless. Gold lost and dragon still presumably peacefully sleeping away upon the hoard.

Such an end was never the conclusion to the stories he had read as a fauntling.

There were always epic battles and great sacrifice, victory, and grand heroes not… not failure and resignation to the inevitable.

What would become of Thorin Oakenshield now? He knew the other dwarves all had trades and families to return to, for them the quest being over would be a disappointment but not one so devastating as he suspected it would be for the king.

He had seemed so… lost back on the mountain when the door refused to show itself. Would his heart recover from such a blow as that?

Bilbo tried his best to see things from Thorin's perspective. What would he feel if Bag End had been taken from him, and he had no hope of getting it back? Try as he might though, Bilbo could not liken the loss of one home to that of a whole kingdom, its riches, its culture, and a great deal of its people.

Sighing, lips tugged into a frown, Bilbo turned onto his side so he could surreptitiously watch Thorin posted on lookout, seated upon a nearby outcrop of rocks and illuminated by the moon now high in the sky. He had seemed fine enough, when Bilbo was joking with him before… but now, alone and lost in his own thoughts. Thorin Oakenshield looked every bit as lost again as he had before the sealed doorway.

Nose twitching in thought, Bilbo forced himself to close his eyes. Perhaps he would discuss this with Balin in private tomorrow. The elderly dwarf seemed to have known Thorin a long time and would better know how their leader handled such defeat.

Before he fell asleep, Bilbo's last thoughts were a vow. If Thorin were suffering from this failure, he would do whatever it took to help him recover from it. If he could not fulfil his duty as a burglar, he would certainly fulfil his duty as a friend.

Chapter Text

A mixture of the hard, uneven ground, lack of shelter from the chilly breeze blowing in off the lake, and the cackling cry of a raven soaring overhead woke Bilbo at the crack of dawn the next day.

For a few moments, Bilbo watched it from his position on his back, arms akimbo. It looked peaceful flying up there, he mused. Letting tired eyes flutter shut for a minute, the hobbit tried to find rest again, only to have some stray thought intrude from the back of his mind.

Not counting the thrush from yesterday, that raven was the first living thing he'd seen since crossing the lake. More than that though… there was something about it being a raven…

"A raven... what was it Oin said about them returning to the mountain?" Bilbo murmured to himself, frowning as he tried to recall the healer's words.

"It will not land here. Until the beast is gone, the ravens of Erebor will not return to these lands proper," the voice was Thorin's and Bilbo jumped at the unexpected sound of it, then turned his head to find him sat with knees bent and his back pressed against a boulder. Given the pallor of his skin and faraway look in his eyes, Bilbo wondered if Thorin had slept at all despite the watch changes.

"I see… I-I'm sorry, I just remembered what Oin said and-"

"'Tis of no matter, Master Baggins. Portents are all well and good, but since we have not succeeded in reclaiming the mountain, there is no need to dwell on them any longer," the words were brusquely spoken, almost flippant, but Bilbo could hear the hurt lingering there. The king leant his head back against the rock and closed his eyes briefly as he continued. "I used to spend many an hour with the ravens as a young lad; it would have eased my heart to have them return."

Bilbo opened his mouth to say something… anything to comfort their leader, but Thorin seemed to realise just how vulnerable his last words had sounded and so quickly stood with a brisk nod in Bilbo's direction. "Excuse me please. I should go check our supplies."

There was certainly no need to check their supplies considering they were returning to Laketown today, but Bilbo allowed Thorin to keep up the charade for his pride's sake.

A sigh gusting from him, Bilbo frowned and rolled over to see that he and Thorin were not the only ones awake. Dori of course was on third watch, but was seated some way away from the camp. However Balin was awake as well and the sight of his concerned eyes following Thorin's movements only served to remind him of the idea he'd had the night before.

Bilbo stood from his bedroll and stretched, trying to look as casual as possible before approaching the old dwarf who was now busying himself by rummaging through his belongings for his pipe.

"Good morning, Balin," he started carefully, unsure how to go about asking what needed to be asked.

"Ah, good morning laddie, glad t'see I'm not the only fool awake," Balin's smile was genial as ever, but Bilbo could not help but notice how pale eyes flicked towards Thorin again. That decided him and Bilbo dropped down to a crouch beside the elder dwarf under the guise of offering some of his pipe weed. "Thank you, Bilbo, thank you… and how might you be this morning?"

"Well enough considering I had sharp rocks trying to poke holes in my back all night," Bilbo joked, then lowered his voice after casting a wary look in Thorin's direction. "You don't happen to know if Thorin slept at all, do you?"

Balin puffed on his pipe and gave Bilbo a look full of gratitude before answering, "Nay, lad I don't know. I only saw he was awake when I woke shortly before you. I'd wager he probably hasn't slept a wink though, all things considered."

"I was afraid of that," the hobbit huffed and shook his head, producing his own pipe to join Balin in smoking. Yavanna willing, it might relax him a little. "You've known him longer than most here, correct? How do you think he's faring after… well… you know after yesterday."

"Aye, I have," Balin took his time answering; eyes still locked upon their leader and teeth chewing the stem of his pipe slightly as he considered Bilbo's question. "Too early to say for sure, but I'd imagine this will affect him badly if we leave the guilt to fester."

"Guilt? Whatever does he have to be guilty for? He's been a fine leader of the Company, Balin."

"I know, I know, and the others know it too, but Thorin will see this as failure plain and simple. The failure and the blame thereupon rests with him and him alone as the leader, at least in his eyes. It's just how his mind has always worked, you see. The loss of Erebor, Azanulbizar, his grandfather's death and father's disappearance, leading our people alone after that… it all happened far too quickly and to one far too young to shoulder such responsibility without aid. Since Erebor, Thorin has always felt the need to protect and provide for our people, to accept every burden without complaint, and to take the blame for any calamity that should befall us. He's stubborn as a mule, but he's got a good heart as I'm sure you've seen by now."

"Yes, yes of course, but Balin what-"

Balin was not usually one to interrupt, but now he did; clearly, the need to confide his thoughts to Bilbo outweighing the elder dwarf's normally fine manners. "I've often thought that Thorin has a spark… a flame if you will within his heart. Something that has kept him going through every hardship he has faced. It has been kept alight by the all-consuming need he has had to reclaim our homeland, and whilst in Ered Luin I saw that flame start to gutter out before he met Gandalf in Bree. Once he started planning for this quest, that determination that drive returned to him. He appeared much as he had done in his youth during this journey; full of life and ready to leap into any skirmish. Now though… with the door sealed tight and no hope of getting into the mountain, at the very least until next Durin's Day… I fear that flame will start to go out again."

Bilbo took a shaky breath and nearly choked on the pipe smoke he inhaled. "Y-you don't mean to say he'll give up the will to live, do you?"

"No, no," Balin was quick to reassure. "Nothing so awful as that… he will just… well I suppose the best term for it would be to burn out? Become something of a husk of his former self, barely existing and not living life for himself as he should do now."

Bilbo calmed slightly and peeked over his shoulder to where Thorin was securing their packs. He did seem rather listless…

"Balin, if there's anything I can do; anything at all, please do let me know. Someone like Thorin he- well he just doesn't deserve to suffer like that."

Balin's eyes had crinkled at the corners and the look he levelled at their resident burglar was a fond one. It was a look that had Bilbo ducking his head to puff furiously on his pipe to fight away the blush he was sure was threatening.

"You're a good soul lad, and I'll speak plain now. You were hired as a burglar, not a healer for our king. However, there's definitely something about you that I think might help him… if I think our Thorin needs someone to talk to, or to give him a firm knock to the head, I'll certainly be coming to you to ask you to do it."

"Well er- well that is um… thank you, I think. I'm not entirely certain what good I'll do but- well I'll try of course," Bilbo was positive his ears were aflame by now, though he still felt a smile tug at his lips from the praise.

"Very good, now look lively-" Balin trailed off with a quick jerk of his head in Thorin's direction, their leader was coming back over to the camp and it would not do to be caught speaking of him behind his back.

"Everyone up, we need to leave within the hour," Thorin's voice rang clear and businesslike as usual, as he roused the others still sleeping, but still Bilbo couldn't help but notice the haunted look still hadn't left his eyes.

With the usual complaints and grumbles, the rest of the Company stirred and began to get ready to leave for the rowboat beached at the edge of the lake.

-

The return to Laketown was uneventful but sombre, each of their group quietly discussing how their kin would react to the bad news, worse still were the theories of how they would be treated by the residents of Laketown themselves. They were a poor community, that much was obvious, and having been promised a share of the gold their hopes had probably soared after the Company had left for the mountain… Now though that group would return empty handed.

It was mutually decided that it would be best to draw as little attention to themselves as possible, until they could decide how to tell the citizens of the town about the quest being unsuccessful.

So it was that the Company kept a low profile as they returned to the docks, choosing one of the less populace ones to moor their boat. Each cast about wary looks as they stepped upon the wooden boards that made up the rabbit run like walkways of the town, and both Nori and Bilbo took the lead in navigating the most discreet way back to the Master's house.

It was here they encountered something of a problem. After sneaking about the exterior of the large town house and peering in at numerous windows, Nori returned to the others to reveal that he could not find any trace of their kin.

Having little or no clue as to where else they might be, it was eventually decided that they would try their luck at the bowman's dwelling. Most of them muttered amongst themselves over how odd it should be that the Master had not allowed their kin to stay in his residence (though frankly Bilbo found the revelation pretty unsurprising given the man's unsavoury dishonest qualities he had glimpsed when things were not benefiting him directly, and murmured to Balin as much). The worry was less that the Master had apparently turned them away, more that Bard may have done as well, given their frosty parting. With Kíli so sick, it was hoped the bowman may have shown compassion, else wise they youngster may have been in quite real danger.

With this thought weighing heavily on his mind, Thorin hurried them towards Bard's home, and on more than one occasion had to be bodily dragged back by Nori to prevent them being seen.

After what seemed an age, the bedraggled group reached their destination, and hurried up the stairway, careful to check that the coast was clear, before hurriedly knocking on the door.

Imagine their surprise when it was not Bard or one of his children who pulled the door open, but the redheaded elven maid from Thranduil's kingdom, the captain of the guard.

Thorin visibly tensed, as did most of the other dwarves, so it was left to Bilbo to quickly push his way to the fore and greet her, albeit with some measure of confusion. "Milady, I don't suppose any of our companions might be here?"

Behind him, Bilbo could feel the others readying themselves for conflict given their last meeting with this particular elf, and although aware of their misgivings, Bilbo couldn't help but sigh and roll his eyes, offering the elf a lopsided smile.

"They are, and it's Tauriel, if you please Master-?"

"Baggins, Bilbo Baggins at your service," he bowed, years of good manners ingrained into his very being and was pleasantly surprised when Tauriel returned the courtesy with a small smile of her own. "Might we come in? I'm afraid we can't very well stand around out here, though er… well it's not your house and-"

"People are coming!" Dwalin hissed urgently, and all pretence of good manners was set firmly aside as the burly dwarf shouldered them all through the door and passed a slightly bemused elf who shut the door behind them.

Noticing the way the dwarves all seemed to be resting a hand upon a weapon, Tauriel was quick to appease them, not wishing to start a pointless fight in someone else's home. "Your kin are here, and they are safe I can assure you. Kíli was quite badly injured and had been poisoned by the arrow he was struck with back in the Greenwood. We have healed him and he is resting now. The others are with him," she nodded her head toward the small living area at the other end of the house.

"What happened here?" Ori was looking about him in wide eyed awe at the state of Bard's home; there was broken furniture and crockery strewn about, and his answer came quickly enough as Bard's eldest bustled in with a broom to sweep up the pieces of broken pottery.

"Orcs," she said, so matter of fact that a few of their number rose their eyebrows at the calm in her voice.

Bain and Tilda were quick to follow her in from the other room, working in tandem to upright chairs and pick up discarded items. Behind them came Bofur, his hat knocked askew and a joke at the ready to help the youngest of Bard's children see the funny side of the situation. He paused in his task when he caught sight of the others returned from the mountain so soon, and patted Tilda on the shoulder before rushing over to greet them.

"Bless me, what are you all doing back here so quickly? Not that I'm ungrateful to see you after the night we had-"

Bifur strode forward and grasped his cousin by the shoulders, giving his a firm head butt in greeting (careful as always to avoid the shard of axe in his skull) and Bofur continued to look about him in happy confusion, only to falter at the sombre countenance of the others.

"We couldn't get into the blasted mountain," Dwalin growled the confession without preamble. "The quest is over."

"But that's- well that's bloody nonsense, y'had the map, the key, we were here on time-"

"Enough!" Thorin's voice was angry, and Bilbo startled at the sound of it. Turning to offer the king rebuke for speaking to Bofur in such a way, he noticed the anger was not directed at the miner, but the presence of the elf. "We will discuss this later, where are Fíli and Kíli?"

"The other two are in the back room there, along with the elderly healer," it was Bain who answered, and consequently fidgeted when the force of the king's stare landed directly on him.

"My thanks, lad," Thorin spoke no more to the others and instead marched off to see to his nephews and Oin, presumably to break the bad news to them as well in quiet.

Bofur huffed a disappointed sigh and shook his head, rubbing a hand over his chin before he caught Bilbo's eye and murmured a quiet, "how's he taking it?"

"Er… not too well I'm afraid," the hobbit cast a sidelong glance at Tauriel, who was doing her best not to look overly interested in their conversation but was unfortunately failing. "Thorin's right, we'll talk about it later. Now, how can I help here? It seems as if those orcs made a right mess of the place didn't they."

Bofur's customary grin returned with ease at the offer, and he nodded over to where Sigrid was tidying away some unbroken dishes. "You take that side; I'll help out the wee lass here." Wandering over to Tilda, he was quick to engage her in conversation, which dissolved into joyous giggles when he took off his absurd hat and jammed it firmly atop her head. The size of it was far too big on her and it fell readily over her eyes, but she looked pleased all the same, deigning to wear it as she tidied up the house with his help.

Not willing to let a house be left in ruin, it was not long before the rest of the present Company were bustling about the small house, getting under one another's feet as much as they were helping.

Tauriel was quickly by Bilbo's side, helping him to move heavier objects, and the hobbit couldn't help but notice an inquisitive look in her hazel eyes. It seemed as if she wanted to ask something, but couldn't quite find the words. Bilbo was nothing if not patient with reluctant conversationalists by now, and worked on in silence for some time, before the elf spoke at length, "You are… not a dwarf."

"No, I'm not."

"Forgive me, I'm afraid to say I've never quite seen the like of you before…"

"You'd like to know what I am?" Bilbo's grin seemed to soothe the elf's concern that she might offend him and she nodded eagerly, oddly reminding Bilbo of some of his inquisitive young cousins back home.

"I'm a hobbit, ah you know, the Shire-folk? I believe in your tongue it would be perian… but please don't refer to me as a halfling, never did much like the term," he sniffed disdainfully at the name and then continued. "I'm not surprised you didn't realise what I was, us hobbits very rarely leave our homelands."

Tauriel's eyes widened minutely in something akin to wonder and her lips curled up into a smile. "I never thought I'd meet any of your kind, Master Baggins. I have never had the chance to leave the Greenwood and travel so far west. I've read about you, of course, but was unaware how a hobbit should look."

Bilbo chuckled at the barely concealed excitement in her tone, it was rather endearing, and Bilbo was struck with the notion that in elf terms Tauriel was probably not much older than the likes of Fíli and Kíli. He straightened and raised his arms out to the side, turning this way and that so that Tauriel could get a decent look at him, laughing as she tried not to stare. "Well, this is how we look, though the rest of my people would probably point out that I don't look at all as I should. Not a bit respectable now. We tend to be a bit rounder in the middle, I'm afraid I've lost a fair bit of weight with all this adventuring. We prefer to wear far smarter, brighter clothes than this too, but well- yes, this is a hobbit."

Tauriel smothered a laugh, taking in his outfit, which in reality did look rather odd on him given that everything appeared oversized and swamped him like a child in their parents' clothes.

"And were you in the dungeon with the others? I cannot recall you being with them."

Tauriel's eyes, Bilbo mused, were rather disconcerting; sharp and intelligent, he shuffled a little under her scrutiny before mustering up the courage to answer. "I regret to inform you, lady Tauriel, that I was the one who allowed your prisoners' to escape. I stole the keys and released them, before stuffing them into those barrels."

To his immense relief, Tauriel threw her head back and actually laughed aloud at the revelation, the bright sound of it causing Bard's children to pause in their work for a moment and grin over at her. "I had read that hobbits were quiet creatures, capable of sneaking around unseen. You clearly do the description justice to have succeeded in stealing my own prisoners away."

"Yes well-" Bilbo trailed off with a small shrug and got back to work, head jerking up when Thorin entered the room again with Fíli and a hobbling Kíli in tow.

He sent a glare to the elf maiden, who pointedly ignored the stare and instead wandered gracefully over to Kíli's side to rest an absent hand on his shoulder. "You should not be walking around just yet."

Thorin grumbled something in Khuzdûl beneath his breath, causing Bofur's lips to twitch as he walked by carrying a stack of dishes, but Kíli merely beamed up at the elf as if she were the most wonderful thing in Middle Earth. Bilbo's eyebrows met his hairline, and he quickly busied himself with sweeping up the broken shards of a jug, as if embarrassed to interrupt the moment.

"You should know that Durin's folk are hardier than you'd think!" Fíli rolled his eyes at Kíli's words and then snorted in amusement as his fool of a brother thumped his own fist against his chest as if to demonstrate his strength.  

"Very well, I shall be sure to remember it."

When Bilbo glanced up at the elf's response, he was surprised to see fondness in her gaze too and was quick to duck his head to hide the grin that appeared on his face unbidden. It was rather sweet actually, if that gaze meant what he think it might. True, it was probably only friendship, perhaps the first bloom of infatuation, but it was lovely all the same in Bilbo's slightly romantic opinion… Perhaps it was best Thorin was kept in the dark for now though, and so Bilbo cleared his throat and beckoned the king over before he could catch on to his younger nephew's possible dalliance with an elf.

"Where has Bard gone?"

"I'm not sure," Thorin frowned and shook his head.

Bain was the one who came over to answer and leant heavily on his broom looking deeply troubled. "We don't know. After you left he became worried about what might happen once you reached the mountain. He was so sure you'd wake the dragon and the beast would come to kill us."

Dwalin stomped by, snorting in a disgruntled fashion, but made no remark and after a moment of glaring at the warrior's back, Bain continued.

"Then Bofur, Oin, and your nephews came saying Kíli was sick and needed help. We couldn't just turn them away, but all night da was getting more and more anxious. Eventually he asked Oin and Bofur to keep an eye on us and he went to the watch tower to keep a look out, just in case he said."

"But he's not come back," Sigrid interrupted wretchedly and Bilbo realised part of the reason the girl was cleaning so industriously was to try to keep from worrying over her father's whereabouts. "Then the orcs came and attacked us, and Miss Tauriel and her friend battled with them, but some of them escaped and ran off and what if-" Sigrid stopped there, casting a look at her younger sister and refusing to continue.

"Tauriel's friend?" Bilbo heard Gloin mutter to Bofur.

"Aye, the prince, Legolas I think his name was." Noticing Sigrid's upset, the kindly dwarf wandered over and gave her arm a reassuring pat. "Don't you worry none, lass. You saw how that elf fought last night, he went haring after those orcs right after they left, and he wouldn't let them hurt your da I'm sure of it."

"Perhaps he's out there still, keeping watch for the dragon. Just because it's daylight now doesn't mean he'd assume the threat is gone," Bilbo piped up. "I say, why don't we leave the cleaning up to this rabble and go out and see if we can find your father. We can tell him he doesn't need to worry about the dragon now because we've not been able to get into the mountain."

(Bilbo pointedly ignored Kíli's offended squawk and Fíli's mutter of, "did he just call us 'rabble'? Cheeky little git.")

The worried hunch to Sigrid's shoulders finally eased at the combined reassurance of Bofur and Bilbo, and she sent the hobbit a warm smile. "That would be very kind of you."

"I'm not sure I like the idea," Thorin groused, turning his attention to Bilbo. "What if you're spotted?"

"You know well enough by now that I can sneak about quite easily. Besides, the townsfolk are far less likely to take notice of my presence than that of a dwarf whose place is at the mountain. For all they know perhaps you left me here on purpose?"

Thorin looked unconvinced, but one look at the hopeful expressions on the children's faces and he sighed, nodding his assent. "Very well, go with them and help them find their father."

Bilbo gave him a grateful smile and was mildly surprised when the king took Bilbo's broom from his grasp to carry on where the hobbit had left off. "We'll have your home tidy for you by the time you get back," the look he gave Bard's children was quite affectionate, and Bilbo was reminded once more of how this dwarf saw himself as a father figure to both Fíli and Kíli. Family had always been important to him it seemed.

It was the work of moments for Bard's children to bundle themselves up in coats or shawls, and Bilbo was soon traipsing back down the rickety stairway with them to help them find Bard.

-

"So, I assume the obvious place to start would be that watchtower your father mentioned," Bilbo had let Bain take the lead and soon found that young Tilda was free with her trust, clinging onto his hand and grinning at him as they made their way along the wooden walkways of Laketown.

"Aye, probably the best place," Bain sounded distracted as he looked this way and that, taking Thorin's caution to heart and doing his best to lead them down streets which would be less busy, so as to avoid Bilbo being seen by anyone overly nosy.

Within minutes, they had reached the base of the watchtower, and Bain wasted no time in charging up the steps two at a time, calling for his father.

Looking up, Bilbo quickly spied the young lad leaning from the top of the tower and shaking his head morosely, shouting down to them. "He's not up here; I don't understand where he could be."

They waited for Bain to join them again and Bilbo felt the first churning of concern stir in his stomach. Bard had told his children he would be keeping watch for the dragon, so for him to abandon his post, something significant must have happened; else, he would have returned home to them. Perhaps Sigrid had been right to worry about the orcs? Yet there was no sign of a fight having taken place, and Bard certainly would have fought…

Trying not to let his worry show, Bilbo turned to Sigrid, "where else could your father be?"

Frowning, Sigrid considered for a few moments before answering, "I suppose he could be at the market, seeing as it's so early in the morning. Sometimes he goes there to find us bargains. Maybe he decided the dragon wouldn't be a threat and so went there as soon as the stalls opened?"

She sounded doubtful, but at least it was a place to start, Bilbo decided. "Come along then, let's go to the marketplace and see if your father is there."

It took a little longer to reach the marketplace than it had the watchtower, and Bilbo was uncomfortably aware that a handful of people did seem to recognise him, yet they didn't say anything directly. Despite being quite early, the market was already abuzz with sellers and trades people, as well as customers looking to get the best produce whilst it lasted.

They moved meticulously through the stalls, craning their necks to try to see over taller people's shoulders in hopes of catching a glimpse of Bard somewhere. It was as they were walking through a selection of stalls selling rather unappetizing looking vegetables and various other fresh foods that Bilbo heard a voice call out.

"Ah, there's the Bardlings!" A woman, middle aged and wearing the same pinched and slightly underfed expression all those of Laketown seemed to carry, beamed at the children and held her arms wide as if to embrace them as they approached. "Bless me, I haven't seen you around the market in far too long, not been giving your da too much grief I hope?" Her face was pulled into such an expectant grin that Tilda giggled. Clearly, the woman had been hoping for an affirmation of bad behaviour.

Walking up to the woman's stall, Bilbo felt his lips twitch and he gave Bain an amused look, "Bardlings?"

"She used to tell us we followed our da around like ducklings when we was little, over time that name stuck and became 'Bardlings'." Bain grimaced but could not hide the fond look he gave to the woman.

"Aye that they did, such a well behaved wee flock of Bardlings they are too." The woman fairly cackled.

Wringing her hands, Sigrid returned to the purpose for their visit to the market, and cast a worried glance about them. "Actually that's why we're here Missus Bianca-"

"How many times is that now, call me Hilda for pity's sake, I'll not have any airs put upon me." Hilda interrupted with a toothy grin.

"Yes, sorry, Hilda. Um, we were rather hoping you'd seen our da somewhere; he's not been home since last night."

Hilda's manner became far more serious in that instant, and Bilbo felt a small knot of nerves begin to twist in his stomach. Had the orcs injured him after all… or worse?

"Tilda, love. Why don't you take a look at some of the new herbs I got. I'm sure your hobbit could put 'em to good use if what I hear about them being fine cooks has any truth to it."

Bilbo, Sigrid, and Bain saw through the ruse immediately, Hilda was merely aiming to distract the youngest and persuade her out of earshot. Thankfully the idea worked, and Tilda was soon engrossed in sorting through bunches of fresh and dried herbs some feet away.

Leaning forward, Hilda frowned and beckoned the remaining three closer to speak quietly. "I was hoping that had only been a rumour," she started looking grim. "I heard a few things muttered about the marketplace by the guards this mornin' they were saying your da's been arrested by the Master."

"On what charges?" Bilbo felt a spike of incredulous anger at the very idea. From the short time he had spent in Bard's company, he could tell he was a good man, certainly not the type to break the law.

Hilda harrumphed and gave Bilbo a slightly condescending look, "what charges does he need? You gentlefolk don't know much of corruption do you. The Master alone is in charge here and only those he deems close allies does he offer any real power to. The guards, and any officials we might have; they're all in the Master's pocket and answer to him. If he so chooses Bard could rot in those cells for the next twenty years and he need not bother to say why."

"But surely a fair trial-"

The laugh Hilda gave was short and rather cold. "No such thing here, not whilst we're under the rule of that pompous old windbag."

Bilbo frowned and turned to see how Bain and Sigrid were taking the news. Bain looked bleak, face gone pale and stony. Sigrid however had eyes that were over bright, but surprisingly did not look shocked by what had happened to her father.

"I knew it was coming," she murmured when she noticed Bilbo looking her way. Her hands still twisted together; a nervous habit, Bilbo mused. "For a long while now da has tried to stick up for the people here, and of course that's never sat well with the Master. When he argued with him the night before you left, regarding the mountain and the dragon… that must have been the final straw."

Hilda nodded, keen eyes suddenly landing on the hobbit. "So why aren't you at that mountain by the way? I thought you'd have left to go treasure hunting with those dwarves."

Bilbo's skin prickled slightly and he scrambled for an excuse. They could not let the people of Laketown know the quest had been a failure yet, and if he told this woman he had no doubt the whole town would know by sun down, if not sooner. As kind as she was to the 'Bardlings', there was something shrewd and hardened about her. She was not a woman he would like to cross.

"Well there was really no reason for me to go with them," he started, praying Bain and Sigrid would not interrupt with the truth. "They hired me on as a cook you see, and what use would a cook be against a dragon? I thought it better to stay here, maybe put my talents to use with Bard's family until the Company returned."

Hilda smiled, it was sharp and somewhat calculating and Bilbo had a feeling she did not believe his story, but all the same she chuckled. "Well then, make sure you fatten this one up before you leave us," she thrust a thumb at Bain. "Skinny as a rail he is, and a few solid meals would help him grow strong like his da."

The mention of Bard sobered Hilda once more and she turned to the children with sympathy in her eyes. "I'm not sure there's much you can do, dears. I suggest you go home and try to carry on as normal until we can find out more. Sigrid, you're nearly of age, should the worst happen the rest of the town will look favourably on you looking after the other two until Bain is old enough to work. If you need anything, you know you can always come to me."

Sigrid's lip trembled, but she nodded resolutely and offered a shaky smile when Hilda reached out to pat her clasped hands affectionately.

"There's a good lass, I'll come by later to check how you are if you'd like."

"Thank you, Hilda."

Sigrid and Bain walked over to Tilda, plastering smiles on their faces as she pointed out this herb and that, Hilda calling over that she could take a bunch without paying if she wanted. Tilda was overjoyed, so much so that she seemed to forget the worries she held regarding her absent father, for the time being.

Bilbo was about to turn away from the stall to join them, when Hilda shot an arm out, quick as a snake and grasped Bilbo's elbow, sharp eyes pinning him where he stood. "Funny thing, claiming you're a cook for the Company. I clearly recall that king of yours referring to you as 'Master Burglar' the last time you were running around here."

Bilbo swallowed thickly.

"You'd best not be plotting to hurt those youngsters, nor burgle from any of us." Bilbo actually felt relief wash over him at that, she had the completely wrong idea after all. Hilda's concern was endearing to be sure, but utterly misplaced and a little ridiculous; what in all of Arda could a hobbit do to harm or burgle anyway?

"Missus Bianca, I can assure you I would never even think of harming those three, nor would I ever steal from anyone. T-the 'Master Burglar' title, it's just something of a joke between Thorin and I."

Hilda for her part, did release his arm and seemed satisfied that he was not a threat. However, the noncommittal hum that followed made clear that she didn't quite believe his words regarding the name that Thorin had graced him with. Her expression quickly became cunning again and Bilbo felt a small sense of foreboding start to tickle at the back of his mind. "I'm willing to believe you mean those dear ones no harm. However, if there were any truth to that title of yours, I should hope a burglar might do something about their da's predicament."

-

Upon returning to Bard's house, the dwarves and Tauriel had proved as good as their word. For the most part the house was tidy and clean once more, little evidence remaining of the orcs having ever been there. Fíli was currently scrambling about the rafters with all the easy grace of a squirrel, a hammer in hand and nails clenched between his teeth as he set about trying to patch the holes left in the roof.

"Can't be having the rain getting in now, can we?" he winked gamely at Sigrid before showing off by hooking his knees on one of the beams and swinging upside down to reach a new place, Kíli calling out taunts and insults to his brother.

His antics lightened Sigrid's mood a little, and the young woman offered the prince a watery smile.

"No luck I assume?" Thorin, for all he was still scowling at being in such close proximity to their elven jailor, had a soft look of sympathy aimed at Bard's children.

"Da's been arrested," Tilda whimpered. The news had been broken to her as gently as possible by her older siblings on the way back and now she had her face practically hidden in the bunch of herbs she clutched like a lifeline.

Bilbo rested a hand on her shoulder and looked at Thorin, face grim. "The Master of Laketown is to blame, Bard has done nothing wrong."

"That seems to be a common trait amongst elves and men then, imprisoning those who have committed no crime," it was clear who the barbed comment was for. Tauriel acted as if she had not heard it, though Kíli still scowled at his uncle in reproach.

As if on cue, Balin shuffled in with mugs of tea at the ready, offering one each to the children. They accepted gratefully, and Sigrid sat heavily at the kitchen table, staring at the tea more than drinking it, whilst Bain downed his quickly before going to help Fíli with repairs. Tilda trotted over to where Gloin and Bofur were sat together talking and decided to sit between them for comfort. The two of them, being good with young ones, were happy enough to cut off their discussion to entertain the youngest of Bard's children and take her mind off things.

"Is there anything we can do for them do you think-" Bilbo had been in the midst of quietly asking Balin what they could do when there was a knock at the door.

Casting suspicious glances about them, Sigrid waved them into the back room before going to open the door flanked by Tauriel.

Flowing conversation in Sindarin alerted the group to the return of Tauriel's companion. Legolas had returned from hunting the orcs from the night before.

For the benefit of the others present, the captain of the guard quickly switched back to Westron. "Did you manage to kill them all?"

"No," Legolas looked nearly thunderous with rage, and swept into the small house with all the swift, deadly grace of his father. "Most of them are dead, but a few escaped me, they had mounts and I could not catch up to them. We need to find out what has brought that filth all the way here."

The elven prince stopped then, and for the first time took note of the number of dwarves in the house. There had only been four of them the night before. His expression switched from angry to a smirk in almost an instant.

"Well, well, Tauriel. We came to hunt orcs and instead find our lost prisoners. That at least is something of a consolation."

There was an intelligible, angry roar from the Company; all of them offering argument and insults at once. Not for the first time since starting this quest, Bilbo felt the urge to simply sink into the ground and disappear, he thought rather longingly of the ring in his pocket, but instead drew himself up to his full height and walked over to the prince, sketching a quick bow.

"Prince Legolas, I do hope you do not want to try and re-arrest our group when we are all guests in this family's home? It would be in very poor taste I should think." He was loath to pull Bard's children into this, but he had a feeling things might turn ugly if he didn't try and calm the situation.

Tauriel to her credit placed a gentle hand on Legolas' arm and shook her head at him. "Master Baggins is quite correct, now is not the time. The young ones have more to worry over than two elves and a group of dwarves tussling in their house."

"And when we've just finished prettying it up again too," was the sardonic rejoinder from Nori.

Legolas glowered at their former prisoners, but eventually turned his attention to the children. "Where is your father?"

Fíli groaned aloud and waved impatiently at Tauriel. "Explain the situation to him fully, would you please? We don't have the patience for idiotic questions."

Legolas' lip curled as if he would retort with something unpleasant, but Tauriel quickly took him by the arm and led him away from the others to do as Fíli bid.

Whilst the elves were occupied, Bilbo returned to his conversation from before, beckoning Balin and Thorin closer. "We have to help them; we can't just leave them fatherless!"

"We need to get away from here as quickly as possible if those orcs are still in the area… but you are right, it would be churlish of us not to offer assistance to them, especially when they helped us," Thorin ran a hand distractedly through his hair, eyes flicking to each of the children in turn.

"Aye, it wouldn't be right," Balin agreed.

Bilbo sighed in relief, glad they were willing to stay long enough to help Bard. "So, what can we do? We were talking to a woman who works in the marketplace… she's the one who told us what had happened to Bard. She was telling me that whilst the Master is in charge there would be no hope. Fair trials don't exist here, and anyone with any influence is under the Master's control."

"Well we can hardly incite a revolution." Balin's beard twitched with dry good humour.

Thorin was looking thoughtfully at Bilbo, stroking his beard as he considered the hobbit; the attention made Bilbo squirm slightly. "I'm not sure I'm going to like where this is going, am I?"

"You've proven yourself against a prison once before, Master Burglar. There is nothing to say you wouldn't be able to again."

Bilbo winced and repeated Hilda's words back at Thorin, regarding her hopes for him helping Bard, and Thorin nodded in agreement. "I've no doubt you'd be the best one of the job. After all, what is a prison of men compared to the dungeons of the elves?"

Bilbo glanced at Balin, as if he might help him, but the elderly dwarf only offered him a kind smile and a hearty pat on the back. "You'll do fine, lad."

"Oh very well… but I'd like some help this time. Nori is no stranger to these things, is he? I could use his expertise."

"My dear Master Baggins, I'm ever so flattered you'd think of me," an arm was flung around Bilbo's shoulder, and it seemed whilst they'd been talking the rest of the Company, Bard's children, and the elves had all decided to listen in. Bilbo groaned and looked up at the wolfish grin Nori was sporting as he jostled against him.

"There is only one thing we can do in the absence of a fair system; we must break your father out of jail." Thorin explained to the room at large, but his eyes were on Sigrid, Bain, and Tilda in turn.

After only a moment's hesitation, the children nodded their agreement. Both elves looked rather concerned about the idea, but didn't seem to be of the mind to stop them.

"You do realise you'll have to leave Laketown though?" the quiet input was from Bombur, his worry for the children's future evident on his round face. "Once your da is free we'll all be fugitives. We won't be able to dally here for even a moment."

Legolas had looked thoughtful for the past few minutes and now spoke up. "I believe my father might offer Bard and his family a place in the Greenwood kingdom, at least for a short time. He has long held ties with the citizens of Laketown, but holds no love for the current Master, he knows him to be a poor leader. If I explain the situation to him, I'm positive he will grant them safe haven."

Dwalin made a noise that sounded both rude and doubtful, but did not argue with the elf.

"You'll help us? You'll really free our da?" Tilda had piped up hopefully, clambering down from her spot between Gloin and Bofur in order to run over to Thorin and fling her arms around the king's middle gratefully. Fíli and Kíli snickered in amusement at the surprise on his face.

"Of course we will, akhûnith. Our Burglar and Nori will be able to, I'm certain," the surprise had vanished to be replaced by a soft, barely there smile aimed at the youngest of Bard's children.

Grinning from ear to ear, Tilda wasted no time in letting go of Thorin and hugging Nori and Bilbo in turn as well, her tongue tripping over itself as she rushed to thank them.

Sigrid and Bain offered their thanks as well, though not quite as over enthusiastically as their younger sister had done.

"We need to make a plan," Thorin stated minutes later, grabbing a scrap of parchment and stick of coal before sitting at the scrubbed kitchen table.

Nori was quickly at his side, giving ideas and suggestions, as Kíli limped over to sit as well, offering his own thoughts on the prison raid. Very soon, everyone was contributing what ideas they could, even the elves, Bilbo noted with some amusement.

It was in that moment that the hobbit realised something; since being given a purpose again, Thorin had looked far brighter and more alive than he had since being back at the mountain. He caught Balin's eye and smiled widely, hoping that maybe this task would help take Thorin's mind off his lost kingdom if only for a little while.

Bombur soon started cooking some food for them all whilst they plotted (Tilda insisting he use some of her freshly acquired herbs as seasoning). And as Bilbo found himself squashed between Nori and a determined Thorin, struggling to eat his food neatly given the lack of elbow room, and the planning continued long into the night, the hobbit found he couldn't be too adverse to another harebrained scheme if it was making Thorin as animated as this.

Chapter Text

As much as he wished to help Bard, Bilbo couldn't help but grumble a little to himself the next day. He and Nori had left the house before dawn, in order to pick a good hiding spot from where they could safely watch the comings and goings outside the jail.

It had been decided that the simplest plan would probably prove the most effective. This meant that their first course of action was to observe the guards and their shift patterns for a day before making any further moves.

A couple of their number, who were more prone to action and impulsive acts, had complained about delaying the jailbreak. Their argument had been that the longer they stay here, the more likely it would be that the townsfolk might get wind of their return from the mountain.

Thankfully, Nori and Thorin had overruled them, explaining that it would be futile to try anything whilst they had no information regarding the guards, and the state of the jail itself. Such a foolhardy rush to free Bard would only lead to disaster for Bilbo and Nori.

So it was the pair were now uncomfortably ensconced between some crates and hidden from view behind some abandoned barrels.

"There it is, next shift change. Ugly lookin' feller with the blobby nose there, swapping with the one that looks like a stork." Nori muttered quietly as Bilbo hurriedly jotted down the time and the guards' descriptions.

"That makes… a change of guard once every four hours, give or take." Bilbo murmured as he ran a grubby finger down the parchment he clutched in a numb hand, tallying the last few times they'd witnessed guards change over.

"Aye, sounds 'bout right. We've got t' stay here a bit longer though… make sure they don' switch things about too much later on in the day, y'know. Can't say I fancy another stint in a clink so soon after escaping the elves, and if we're cack-handed about this then that's how we'll end up."

"Thought you'd be used to it by now, judging by what your brother's told me," Bilbo feared he was probably frozen to the spot given the chilly weather, and so felt uncharitable enough to make the jibe upon Nori revealing they'd be out in the cold even longer.

He was rewarded for his remark with a sharp, roguish grin, and not a whit of remorse to be found.

"Lies n' slander, all of it. I'm a proper gentledwarf me."

"Of course, and I'm an elf."

Any jest Nori may have made regarding a hobbit's elf-like ears was unfortunately forgotten as the pair had to practically throw themselves face first onto the wooden deck in order to avoid being spotted in their crouched positions by a passing fisherman.

After a few tense moments of staying completely still and quiet the threat of being discovered passed, and the pair resumed their huddled crouch, peering cautiously from their hiding place.

So far they had discovered the guards' shift patterns, what each one looked like, how many there were in total, and had begun picking up certain traits; such as which guards were more thorough, and which would not likely notice something amiss. All helpful information of course, though Bilbo rather wished they could go about gathering it quicker.

Watching the two guards' converse briefly, before they disappeared into the jailhouse, Bilbo wriggled into a sitting position and tried to remain patient. He'd spent far longer than this gathering intelligence and planning whilst back in Mirkwood, he could suffer the cold a little longer for Bard's sake.

Besides which, it wasn't only the thought of Bard and his children that calmed his temper and kept him patient and willing. Something Thorin had said to him before he and Nori left that morning was still at the forefront of his mind.

 "I believe you will be successful. You are Nikedghivesh, Bayurbuzunâl; if you and Nori cannot find a way to set Bard free, then I doubt anyone can."

"I'm what, sorry? Um I'm not sure… Thorin I don't speak Khuzdûl," the question was only meant as a distraction really. Bilbo had the distinct feeling that their leader was complimenting him, and it made it very difficult not to fidget.

In hindsight, asking about the words was a bad idea as it only made his embarrassment worse since Thorin didn't even hesitate before answering. His face was rather smug, as if pleased with what he was about to tell the hobbit.

"To the best of my knowledge, in your tongue those epithets would translate to 'Luck-Wearer' and 'He-Who-Walks-Unseen'. After all, that is what you are."

"You're granting me titles now?" Laughter, slightly high pitched and incredulous was a last attempt at diverting attention from the blush he wore, which must have surely reached his ears by now. He wasn't either of those things! His invisibility was a trick granted to him by a ring, not a talent he possessed himself, and as to 'Luck Wearer'…

… If he was 'lucky', he'd not like to meet someone who lived with misfortune. Though perhaps he was being too pessimistic in that thought.

"I think perhaps you believe in my abilities a little too much, Thorin. I will do my best, but I am only a hobbit after all."

Thorin's expression had turned rather odd then, displeased and almost sad. He shook his head before patting Bilbo's shoulder and giving him a small nudge towards the door, but not before mumbling an encouraging, "have more faith in yourself, Master Baggins. It was my mistake once to doubt you, don't do that to yourself. I have complete faith that you and Nori will succeed."

 A rather lot of pressure to put upon them, Bilbo concluded and harrumphed softly as he tried to make himself comfortable at their stakeout spot on the jetty.

"It's all very well us sitting here n' watching guards," Nori hummed contemplatively after a few minutes of silence between them. "But what we really need is a good nosey around inside the jailhouse proper. That way we'd know what we're up against in terms of materials used for the cell, locks, where the keys are, the layout… all important stuff when you're trying to set someone free on a time limit."

His tone was casual, almost flippant, but Bilbo felt his shoulders hunch almost instantly.

"You want me to try and creep in there and get some more information, don't you?"

"I'm not going t' lie to yer, it'd be mighty helpful if you could. You snuck around that daft fairy's kingdom for nigh on a month without bein' spotted. Don't reckon there's anyone else who could do it 'cept you. Thorin will prob'ly skin me alive if he finds out mind… Nah forget I said anythin' best we wait it out here."

"Alright, alright you don't have to try and do it subtly… you're terrible at it by the way. I'll go. You're right, I can sneak about better than any of us, and we do need more information than… well than this," he dismissively flapped the bit of parchment about before shoving it at Nori and peering over the top of the barrels to check for anyone nearby. "We'll tell Thorin it was my idea if you fear for your skin."

"More my hair I'm worried about truthfully." Nori made a show of patting the mass of braided, coiffed hair on his head (rather haphazardly styled given their last few days), and affected a look of mock horror.

Bilbo snorted, shook his head, and muttered an exasperated 'dwarves' before determining the best route to take from their hiding spot to the jail. A familiar twisting resurfaced in his stomach that he distinguished as nervousness, and he attempted to look scathingly at his companion in order to hide it. "Do something useful whilst I'm gone why don't you, and scrounge up something for us to eat."

"Any requests?" Nori's smirk spoke volumes; he knew Bilbo was feeling uneasy about his task.

"Anything but fish, please." Bilbo grumbled. He'd always been fond of fish, but after the whole barrel fiasco, he felt he'd rather lost his taste for them.

Nori snickered and Bilbo pointedly ignored him.

Without another word he darted out from behind the barrels to another hiding spot he'd spied. His plan was to make it as far as he could without using his ring. It wasn't that he didn't trust Nori or the other dwarves… he just didn't particularly want them witnessing him disappearing into thin air. He'd wait until he reached the shadows beneath the steps of the jail to slip on his ring. Besides… if they knew about it they might want to use it too and there was something about that which just didn't sit quite right with him at this moment in time.

Bilbo felt as if he were playing a rather odd, and slightly more dangerous game of 'Grandmother's footsteps' as he scurried from one hiding spot to another, pausing for a while behind each in order to check if anyone was nearby who might catch him.

Luck was with him, and after a few heart-racing minutes, he'd made it to the foot of the stairs leading up to the jail. Ducking beneath them, Bilbo took a cursory glance about him before reaching into his pocket and retrieving his ring.

It was odd, he mused as he slipped it on, how turning invisible seemed all at once peaceful, and at the same time somehow foreboding. Despite knowing that people could not see him, he could not shake the odd feeling of being watched when he wore the ring.

The world about him shifted to the washed out and muted greys he was slowly becoming accustomed to when wearing his ring, the sounds of the town deadened as if he'd dunked his head beneath the water.

Without wasting another moment, Bilbo hurried out from beneath the stairs and clambered up them, stopping once he reached the top.

He couldn't very well just barge in with two guards in there, could he?

Elevated above the cold Laketown waters, the wind up here blew stronger than down on the docks, so he supposed it wouldn't be too much of a surprise if the 'wind' blew open the door, would it?

Shrugging to himself for lack of a better idea, Bilbo shoved open the door just as a particularly enthusiastic gust picked up, and quickly dove aside as one of the surly looking guards stormed over with a growl to slam it shut again.

"Bloody door won't stay closed properly!"

"Master's probably cuttin' back on maintenance o' the buildings again."

"Miserable bastard, 'e could at least make things better fer us."

Plastering himself against the wall of the drafty little room to avoid being squashed by either of the large Mannish guards, Bilbo set about taking stock of what was around him.

The entire construct was made of wood as seemed to be the norm here in Laketown; the building was clearly old, the wooden beams and slats twisted with age and wear. The room he was currently standing in seemed to serve as a place for the guards to sit and relax whilst waiting for orders or for their shift to end. Small lamps hung from walls and ceiling, lit even in daylight owing to the lack of a decent sized window. Bilbo wondered at these for a moment; lamps could prove expensive to use, and the Master had already proven himself miserly. However, it took but a moment for him to realise that in comparison, lamps and their oil would probably prove cheaper than replacing a whole building should one be burnt to the ground by an untended naked flame.

A table and four rickety chairs (only two of which were occupied) took up much of the space available. On the far wall hung several weapons and some spare, shoddy armour, a small desk was crammed into the corner nearest him, piled high with paperwork.

The whole place was filthy and thick with dust, and the gentlehobbit wrinkled his nose at the state of it, a part of him almost itching for a feather duster and some hot soapy water to get cleaning with.

It was cramped and smelt distinctly of ale, stale food, and unwashed man. Clearly not a place one wanted to stay in for long… Bilbo's sympathy for Bard increased tenfold.

Off from this room a short corridor could be seen, and Bilbo presumed this led to the cells.

His assumption proved correct when curiosity got the better of him and Bilbo quietly shuffled around the table to peer through the doorway. There, in the part of the building that bridged the waterways, were three cells for holding prisoners. Only one cell was occupied, he could spy Bard pacing in front of the door like a caged animal, face grim with anger and worry.

Crouching unobtrusively in a corner by the doorway, Bilbo retrieved a fresh piece of parchment from his coat pocket and his stick of charcoal, taking care to sketch out the layout of the cells and the room he'd just left. To the sketches, he added brief notes regarding the state of the place and the materials used in building the jail. The only exception to the wooden structure was in the cell doors and windows themselves; iron bars had been used instead, for strength against possible breakouts. From the little he had read, and the information Nori had divulged; cells like these were never meant to keep prisoners long term. It was merely a holding pen for the accused to languish in whilst they awaited judgement and subsequent punishment.

"'Ere… did you just hear somethin'?"

Bilbo froze.

"What?"

"Like scratchin', coming from over by the cells."

"Prob'ly just rats. Are we going t' finish this card game, or what?"

Bilbo held his breath. In his excitement to jot down his findings, he had forgotten that whilst he was invisible… he could still be heard. The scratching of his charcoal against parchment must be what the guard had noticed.

Please, just leave it be… don't come investigate… don't- drat it!

"That weren't no rat. I'm goin' to check on our guest. The Master will have our necks wrung if he escapes now."

The sound of a chair being scraped back from within the guards' room and then heavy boots upon floorboards sent Bilbo curling into the tightest ball possible, in an effort to remain undetected in his cramped corner. If the guard tripped over him now, he'd be caught sure as daylight.

The guard stomped passed Bilbo, missing him by a hair's breadth, and the hobbit didn't even dare blink as the guard let sharp eyes sweep about the corridor before stalking over to Bard's cell.

"What are you up to?"

"Nothing at all, merely wondering when you'll see some sense and let me leave." Bard's answer was mild, but Bilbo could see the bowman's white knuckled grip on the bars of his cell, and the hoarseness of his voice spoke of futile shouting at some point between his capture and now.

Taking his chance whilst the guard was interrogating Bard over the scratching noises, Bilbo slowly uncurled from his crouch and moved silently back into the guards' room. Here he found the second guard was busying himself with slicing a rather stale looking loaf of bread, and surreptitiously sneaking a peak at his companion's hand of cards whilst he wasn't present.

Bilbo edged towards the door but paused at the desk shoved untidily in the corner. There, atop the writs of arrest and mundane paperwork oft found in jailhouses, was something altogether much more interesting. A roster! A proper, neatly written timetable of all the guards and their shift patterns. This was something far more reliable than he and Nori's estimations.

Bilbo worried his lower lip between his teeth, drumming his fingers quietly against his leg as he contemplated the risks involved in trying to snatch up the piece of paper before he left.

Too risky, if he were being honest with himself. There was still one guard in here, and he'd surely notice the shift of the paper should Bilbo try and take the roster.

After a few minutes consideration, in which he could hear that Bard and the guard who had gone to check on him had begun arguing, Bilbo decided it simply wasn't worth being caught, and would just try his best to remember the timetable once he left the jail.

Steeling himself by the exit, in order to time his opening of the door with the wind once again, Bilbo wondered if perhaps luck wished to play in his favour.

The argument between the guard and bowman had grown louder, and after rolling his eyes, the second guard stood from his chair in order to moodily make his way over to the cells as well.

"Curse it all, Holgeir! Can't you just let it rest? He'd finally shut up after last night, now you got the damned idiot all riled up again!"

Seeing his chance, Bilbo snatched up the roster and pocketed it whilst the second guard had his back turned, then wrenched open the door and made a bid for freedom.

He'd have to thank Bard for providing an unwitting distraction later.

Feeling that odd sense of giddiness that accompanied anything adventurous or dangerous, Bilbo very nearly laughed aloud when he heard Holgeir give up on his argument with his prisoner in order to curse up a storm and shout about 'that blasted door' as he bounded down the steps two at a time.

It took no time at all to return to his and Nori's hiding place once he'd removed the ring, and it was with a warm sense of accomplishment that Bilbo brandished the roster and parchment full of notes and sketches at his companion with a sound like a fanfare.

"Think these will be helpful?"

"Blimey! Not bad work at all. You may not 'ave pilfered what we originally contracted you to, but you're living up to your title quite well, Master Burglar." Nori looked over Bilbo's spoils with a practiced eye, deeming them useful indeed before passing Bilbo some bread and a wheel of cheese. "And here, food as promised. I've already had my share."

"Didn't steal it, did you? Folk around here seem poor enough as is, without us lot taking from them."

"Oi, grant me some decency. I don't make a habit from stealing from those who are needy. I paid for this lot with good honest coin."

"Hm, a gentledwarf indeed then." Bilbo gave him a calculating look all the same, but decided the thief appeared to be telling the truth.

The growling of his stomach had by now become a persistent thing, and so he did not hesitate a moment more. His share of bread and cheese was practically inhaled; all sense of hobbitish manners forgone in favour of filling his belly as quickly as possible.

Nori laughed at the sight, reaching into his pack and producing a cut of salted pork and an apple, which Bilbo polished off in record time as well.

Wiping the back of his hand over his mouth after gulping from the water skin Nori offered after, Bilbo grinned. "Does spy work always make you this hungry, or is it just me?"

Nori accepted the water skin back and helped Bilbo back onto his feet; he hummed thoughtfully as they started to walk back to Bard's house, his expression amused. "It is hungry work I'll grant yer. But I'm thinking it's something to do with you bein' a hobbit too… Ori mentioned somethin' about you lot eating seven meals a day… or was it six?"

"Ah, yes… quite. Well it's six when we can get them and I suppose some of us might stretch to seven if we feel so inclined." As was often the way when faced with that question, Bilbo felt just a little awkward in answering it. Before he'd left the Shire, he'd never thought twice about the amount hobbits ate. Now what with the rationing he'd faced on the road; Bilbo couldn't help but feel that maybe six (or seven) meals a day was a little excessive.

"Must 'a been hard, droppin' down to just three, if that, whilst gallivantin' about with us lot."

"Oh, no no, it wasn't so bad. Well at first it was a little difficult, but er… I think I've gotten used to it now." Bilbo's treacherous stomach chose that moment to gurgle again, and the hobbit had a swift, aching desire to simply fling himself into the cold Laketown waters in order to escape the embarrassment he felt.

Nori grinned, shook his head, and produced another apple from his pack, handing it over wordlessly.

At length he added, "No need to feel embarrassed by it. We're all made different like. You hobbits are made for plenty o' meals and nice cosy whatchamacallums… hobbit houses."

"Smials, that's what we call them, or hobbit holes." Bilbo supplied with a smile, pleased at Nori's easy acceptance.

"Right, and us dwarves; we're made to hew things from rock, make stuff, fight. Just me speakin' mind, but I reckon you've done a mighty brave thing comin' along with us and doing all you have. We all think it, Thorin especially… well now he's managed to pull that stick from his ar-"

"Nori!"

"What, got ter bad mouth kings occasionally, haven't ye? Keeps 'em from gettin' too big headed I say."

As treasonous as it sounded, Bilbo simply elected to snicker at the thief's antics. He hadn't been able to get to know Nori very well on the quest. In part, he supposed it was because his upbringing taught him to distrust someone with Nori's personal history; and truthfully, Dori and Dwalin's assessments hadn't really helped his opinion. Of course, Dori loved his brother, and Dwalin was grudgingly accepting and friendly towards Nori; but the revelations of Nori's background had rather shamefully planted a seed of prejudice firmly in the hobbit's mind.

Until now, it seemed.

He was a good fellow: friendly and clever, with a wicked sense of humour. Now seeing this clearly, Bilbo promised himself not to ignore any overtures of friendship from this point on merely due to past transgressions. Everyone deserved second chances after all.

 Night was falling by the time the pair made it back to Bard's, being careful the whole way not to attract any unwanted attention. No sooner had they entered than Nori was regaling them all with tales of how well the stakeout had gone. He was also quick to show them the decent amount of information Bilbo had gleaned from his time inside the jail.

Bilbo was fairly certain neither of them had had to avoid trouble and duck and hide quite so much as Nori was making out, but then dwarves did look favourably on a good story, and Nori seemed to have a flair for the dramatic. If he wanted to make their day more exciting than it was in order to gain the rapt attention of an audience, then Bilbo wouldn't say a word against it.

"-So what we need t' do now is wait for nightfall tomorrow in order to spring ol' Bard from his cell," Nori finished with a flourish, tapping a finger against the most promising looking guard shift.

"Wonderful work, lads. Oin, have ye got that sedative ready yet?" Balin patted Nori on the back and looked over to their healer who was obliviously fiddling with his ear trumpet.

"Oin!" Gloin gave his brother a rough nudge, nearly toppling the old dwarf from his seat "Balin's askin' ye something. You got that sedative ready?"

"Eh? The wha- oh! Yes, yes," he reached into his coat and produced a small vial of powder with a very pleased expression on his face. "Tested it on a couple o' th' pigs earlier. Slip it into whatever they're drinkin', they won't taste it at all, and they'll be out like a snuffed candle. It'll take 'em a good hour or two to wake at my guess. We'll be long gone by then."

"And Master Baggins can enter the building safely without detection? You said he managed it earlier, Nori." Dori spoke up, a look of concern on his features.

"O' course he can, have some faith in m' words, brother dear. He managed it easy as anythin' today. Tomorrow night when these two are on duty," (another jab at the roster) "Bilbo does his sneaky little mouse act, goes into the jailhouse, puts that there powder in the guards' ale, they're down fer the count within moments, he grabs the keys, releases Bard, and we're off. Nothin' simpler."

Bilbo had remained quiet up until now, deciding to watch the discussion unfold as he settled himself on the lumpy couch between a smiling Sigrid and Tauriel. Now, however, he felt it prudent to ease Dori's mind and defend Nori's word. "I can promise you what Nori says is true, Dori. I was perfectly able to remain undetected by the guards today. There's no reason to believe I won't be able to do so again."

"He spent ages creeping around Mirkwood too, remember?" Ori piped up, then deflated and shrunk in his seat as he remembered the presence of the elves and caught sight of Legolas' withering stare.

"Oh very well," Dori blustered, before pointing a finger at Bilbo. "But you make sure you stay safe, Master Baggins, you hear me?"

Bilbo stifled a chuckle, biting his lip to keep from laughing when Nori muttered a quiet, "oh, Mahal save us… he's mother henning the hobbit now."

"Thinkin' of adopting this one are you, Dori?" Dwalin teased from his place casually leaning against the wall.

Dori levelled the warrior with a thoroughly unimpressed look, but said nothing further since Bilbo then offered his thanks for his concern and promised to stay safe.

As a number of their group fell into quiet discussion over fine-tuning the plan for tomorrow night with Nori, Bilbo politely excused himself from Sigrid and Tauriel's company in order to stretch his legs. Spending most of the day crouched in one position wasn't particularly comfortable in his opinion.

He'd just shuffled off to the next room when he found Thorin at his elbow. "I knew you'd do well," he smiled, seemingly very sure of himself in this opinion.

"I'm glad you think so. However, perhaps you should leave the praise for when Bard is free and we're well on our way out of Laketown. I'd hate for us to tempt fate." Bilbo shrugged a little self-consciously but with a smile of his own in return.

"As you wish," was the agreeable reply. "I think Nori may be right though, it seems as if Dori might start mothering you."

"Is that a bad thing?" Bilbo grinned.

"Not particularly, though he does tend to smother poor Ori rather a lot. It just shows how fond of you we've all become. I'd have you named dwarf-friend, you know."

"If you had your throne and the power to do so?" The implication had been left unsaid, but Bilbo felt the need to ask regardless.

Thorin shook his head, the twist of his lips somewhat rueful and self-depreciating. "I need no throne for that. You are dwarf-friend whether I decree it as a crowned king or not."

Well… he hadn't exactly been expecting that. The hobbit fidgeted, clasping his hands behind his back and humming quietly, lips tugging irresistibly into a wider grin. That was certainly more than he'd bargained for. The dwarves were secretive, private, and unwilling to admit outsiders for the most part, this he knew. To be named a friend of dwarves…

"Thank you, Thorin. I'm honoured, truly. It's more than I could have hoped for honestly. I know you were all a little… uncertain of my presence at first, and rightly so. To be considered a true friend to you all. It's more than I could hope for."

"More than a fourteenth share of a treasure hoard?" Thorin's tone was light, almost joking, but Bilbo could see the worry there. Obviously, the king was labouring under the assumption that Bilbo had come on the quest for the promise of gold, and was likely upset that he would not be receiving it.

Bilbo may be many things, but to care one whit about gold in comparison to being accepted by a group he had become so fond of? He was not that shallow.

"Oh far more and I really mean that, Thorin. Just- how did you think I'd get that much gold back home with me successfully anyway? If the rumours of Erebor's wealth were true, even a fourteenth share would have been vast!"

"You could have waited in Erebor until more dwarves arrived, I could have offered you an honour guard." There was a hint of jesting in Thorin's tone now, and Bilbo couldn't help but feel pleased at how absurdly happy the dwarf seemed with Bilbo's answer.

"And waste those dwarves' valuable time traipsing back to the Shire just to see me pile my home high with treasure? You're speaking complete nonsense I'm afraid, Your Majesty. Besides, I didn't really come on this little venture for the promise of gold anyway."

"Oh?" He was trying for nonchalance, bless him, but Bilbo noticed the way Thorin's eyes flicked his way in interest. He wanted to know Bilbo's reasons but was unwilling to ask him outright.

"Indeed. I'm afraid it's not a very good reason though… Gandalf was right. Ever since I was a fauntling, I had yearned for and dreamed of adventure. After my parents passed, I just… sort of fell into a routine and forgot all about travelling any further than Bree for the sake of respectability. Then you lot turned up, making a dratted mess in my house and speaking of lost kingdoms and treasure and dragons and great battles and… well I suppose I rather got pulled in what with all the excitement."

"After you'd picked yourself up off the floor, you mean." Thorin should not be allowed to grin like that. It was reminding Bilbo far too much of a pair of mischievous young dwarves in the next room for one thing, and causing an odd sensation in his stomach for another.

"Yes, well," Bilbo huffed and shot the king a half-hearted glare. "It's only natural for one to be… unnerved at the possibility of their own impending doom. Bofur really didn't help matters. That's besides the point though, what I mean is; I came for the adventure, in the hope of forging some lasting friendships, and well… alright I'll admit when I first ran out my door the thought of seeing a legendary treasure was rather prominent. I mean for goodness sake, Thorin; a mountain full of gold!? What hobbit could say they'd ever seen such a sight as that?"

Thorin made a sound as if triumphant, as if he'd caught Bilbo out in lying about his interest in the treasure, but Bilbo held up a hand to prevent him making a remark on it.

"A sight I said, not that I wanted any of it. I just have a hard time believing that much wealth exists in the world."

"You are an odd sort, Master Baggins," (here Bilbo swatted lightly at Thorin's arm as revenge for the comment). "To want to see gold but not claim any for your own, to leave the comforts and safety of your home in order to help strangers to whom you owe nothing and only wish for an adventure in return-"

Their conversation may have continued longer, had Kíli not chosen that moment to barge into the room they were stood in and latch onto the hobbit like an overly clingy burr. "Ah, so this is where you're both hiding! Yes, yes uncle. Bilbo's just fantastic isn't he? All good and kind and helpful and just look at this face!"

Bilbo was then subjected to the youngest prince (who was practically squashing him by draping himself across his shoulders), taking his cheeks in hand and squishing them in order to highlight 'this face' to his uncle. Bilbo felt his lips purse due to the squashing of his cheeks and his eyes bug slightly as he tried futilely to squirm out of Kíli's octopus like hold.

"Kíli, unhand him this instant!" Thorin barked, lunging toward Kíli only to have his nephew dance out of reach with Bilbo remaining his 'hostage'.

"'m goink to kick y' ssshin." Bilbo tried to say at the same time, his squished face making it rather difficult to articulate his threat.

"Sorry, Mister Boggins I didn't quite catch that." Kíli's grin was far too wide to be innocent as he ignored both the hobbit and his glowering uncle.

Well, he had warned him.

Bilbo made good on his threat and lashed out, kicking backwards with a well-aimed foot, careful to strike Kíli's good leg mind, he wasn't that cruel.

Kíli yelped and let go of the hobbit, crumpling in order to clutch at his abused shin. "Durin's beard! B-bilbo that bloody hurt!"

Bilbo staggered away and massaged his jaw, grumbling about ridiculous dwarf princes.

"Only my heirs are so ridiculous I'm afraid." Bilbo would have scrambled to apologise, but Thorin looked far too amused to be offended. "Let that be a warning not to irritate hobbits again, Kíli." For all his words sounded like a mild reprimand, Thorin did approach his nephew to make sure he wasn't truly injured.

The noise had apparently been loud enough to attract attention; for when Bilbo looked over at the doorway, they had an audience. Dwalin and Balin were both trying to appear irritated by the shenanigans, but the twitching of their beards said otherwise, Fíli was rolling his eyes and muttering to an amused Sigrid that 'this is the idiot I have to call brother'. Gloin on the other hand seemed to be jotting something in his ledger and was busy taking the odd coin from members of their Company, and Tauriel had seemingly rushed to the doorway to see if Kíli was hurt, before realising the dwarf was unharmed and had given in to her own amusement.

"Rocks, that's what hobbit feet are made of, rocks!" Kíli complained, hobbling passed the group in what seemed to be an almighty sulk, but the winsome grin he shot the elf-maid rather ruined the melodramatic image he was going for.

Thus, set the mood for the rest of the evening. Despite the nerves Bilbo assuredly felt over what would transpire tomorrow evening, the group as a whole fell into idle chatter and quite a relaxed atmosphere; aided no doubt by Bombur's cooking. The Bardlings were prone to excitable chattering, both overjoyed and anxious at the prospect of seeing their father again. Dori soon took them under his wing, suggesting they start packing clothes and supplies, anything they could not do without, for as soon as their father was freed they would not be able to linger. The trio took to their task with gusto and were soon hurrying about the ramshackle house packing everything they thought would be necessary with help from Fíli, Kíli, and Ori. Tauriel too, joined the preparations, and entered into a lively discussion with Sigrid over the advantages of women learning to fight: what weapons were best, and how important it was for them to learn these skills young. The captain of the guard was quick to promise her tutelage should Sigrid and Tilda wish it, and the eldest of Bard's children looked thrilled at the prospect.

Kíli was quick to offer his own advice on archery, only to have Fíli announce he'd best leave such things to Tauriel, as he 'wouldn't wish his brother's tutelage on anyone'. This quickly led to the brothers tussling in the kitchen and light-hearted as it was, Dwalin eventually grew tired of their foolishness and physically pulled them apart, growling at them to either actually help pack, or else get some sleep.

"If I'm not completely grey by the time we reach your Shire, it will be nothing short of a miracle." Thorin had muttered to Bilbo in exasperated amusement.

"Oh come now, Thorin. They're not that stressful to be around, surely."

Having overheard the conversation between Sigrid and Tauriel, Nori chose that moment to offer to teach a few 'tricks of the thief trade' to Bain. The boy looked interested, but Dori quickly swooped in, cuffed his brother soundly for offering to show 'such underhanded things to a respectable bargeman's son', and shooed Bain off.

"Er… well, then again maybe you will gain a few more grey hairs than I thought."

 The morning dawned grey and overcast, decidedly cold with a threat of snow in the air. Bain mumbled tiredly to Bilbo over his bowl of porridge that it was often like this so near these mountains and that the weather could change very quickly.

Bilbo clucked sympathetically as Bard's son very nearly fell asleep in his breakfast. He knew how he felt; the nerves from the night before had increased once Bilbo curled up under blankets and was alone with his own thoughts for the night. He'd spent far too long going over their plan in his head, thinking of every possible outcome they might face, and everything that could go disastrously wrong. Now he felt as if he'd been the one to be slipped Oin's sedative, and was quite willing to flop onto the kitchen table and sleep for a good few days.

If only that were an option…

Just as light was beginning to fade in the afternoon, Oin pressed the little vial of powder into Bilbo's hand, and Nori began checking and rechecking that they had everything they'd need to free Bard, mumbling the plan distractedly to himself.

He confessed with a grin, that normally he was very laid back about prison breaks and thievery, but that usually he worked alone and didn't have an accomplice to worry over.

Nori briefly spoke to the others, reiterating again the importance that they all be ready to leave once they returned with Bard, and then they were off, sneaking from Bard's house and creeping back to the jetty by the jailhouse.

They took up their positions from before, watching as the guards changed and the night crept in, lamps lighting in windows of houses and then extinguishing as their owners retired to bed.

Bilbo very nearly nodded off until he felt Nori's elbow digging in his side, the thief indicating towards the jail as the guard shift changed again.

This was it.