A/N: I do not own The Hobbit.

A/N: English is not my first language so please understand if there are mistakes on the writing.

It probably was a sight that would send Balin into a worrying fit, calling for Oin and his knowledge as a healer in less than a second.

It probably would have upset Dwalin even more.

But Thorin tried not to look as if that were the case. He tried to look as if sitting on the inside of his cell, actually eating the last bite of food on his plate, drinking the last drop of water without uttering a single curse (because scowling and frowning didn't count as such, of that he was fairly sure), while being imprisoned by the Elf he hated the most weren't the complete opposite of what he would be doing on his own accord.

Instead, the Dwarf King closed his eyes and leaned against the wall behind him, looking to rest his eyes, because that was the only part of his body he could bring himself to set to rest. For the life of him, he couldn't possibly sleep, not as anxious as he was, not as long as they were under such a rotten situation in which a bunch of bugs had pushed them into. He could remember shadows creeping over them as they waited for Fili and Bilbo to say something, and he could remember the numbness he woke up to after hitting the ground, wrapped under layers upon layers of sticky webs. Thorin didn't waste his time trying to think on how things would have gone differently had they taken another path, or managed to stay on the bricked one until they were able to cross the forest on their on, because that wouldn't make the actual situation change in the slightest, and it was a waste of his energy. Energy he needed to save.

So he thought of something that didn't need any analysis, something he already knew without needing a constant or visual reminder, and he didn't even question himself of why he had come up with that particular subject.

Bilbo was brave.

Oh so brave.

More brave than what he would have expected of any creature that were not a Dwarf in combat, giving his short stature and delicate looking body, and his obvious inexperience with Quests of any sort, not to mention the type of hard labor they had endured since the fall of Erebor. It all apparently mattered little when it came down to fighting for their lives, because he had seen the Hobbit do so now countless of times. Probably not as stubborn or straight forward as a Dwarf, but still thick headed when it came to it, down right sincere and honest.

And that was what worried Thorin at the moment.

Because worry was the only word he could come up with, no matter how strange it sounded, coming from him towards a Hobbit, of all creatures. It was the only name he could give to the feeling that grew inside of him whenever he would think once more of Bilbo's face hours ago, the resigned but determined glint to brown eyes, the tiredness weighting down his limbs, the tightly pressed lips. It worried Thorin, because he knew Bilbo would try to get them out sooner rather than later, but as the Hobbit himself had said, it was a no matter what situation, a no matter what type of plan. It worried Thorin because it had looked as if Bilbo already knew exactly what to do, already knew exactly how dangerous or stupid it was, already knew what the consequences were, and probably decided to do it anyway.

Thorin pressed his own lips tightly into a thin line.

"Don't worry. I will make this work"

Just what work, exactly?

He wanted the answer to that question, and he would rather have it sooner than later, thank you very much.

But Bilbo had not appeared again, not even when the Elves left his tray. And so, the hobbit was either visiting other members of the Company or actually working on the escape plan. Thorin held his breathe for a second when that thought crossed his mind, slowly releasing it after a moment, because if that were the case then he didn't have the time nor the means to asses said plan and to deem it impossible, suicidal or something along those lines. If that were the case then he could only hope Bilbo's plan was as good as his luck, and that they would escape that place in one piece, without having to fight without weapons or the certainty that they would win.

Thorin had to believe in that. He had to believe in that as much as he now believed in Bilbo.

And so he did. They would reach the mountain before Durin's day, they would find the hidden door without complication, and they would reclaim their homeland after years of rooming on the wilds without anything to feed their children or their elders. After that, he would send ravens to the Blue Mountains first, just like he had planned on all those years of working as a blacksmith to bring bread to the table, then, he would have Balin send letters to the ones who didn't come with them to the Quest regardless of their actions, because he was going to be a good King, better than his grandfather ever was. But he was not stupid and his ego was still intact, so he was not going to write to them himself.

The Company would receive titles of lordship that would pass to their children and their children's children as a sign of their bravery and loyalty and everything the rest of their kin lacked when he needed it the most, because what they had done so far was over anything any contract would have bound them to do, and what they had formed went beyond any employer and employee's relationship. They would become Guild masters, they would oversee the raise of Erebor right besides him. And then, as they built back what the dragon had destroyed, he would show Bilbo just what he had helped them regain- He would should the Hobbit the grand halls that were sure to amaze him, the library that was sure to enamor him, and all the little and not so little things that would make Erebor a promising permanent residence to his Hobbit eyes, that would make him consider staying and sending for his things to be delivered, that would make him their most distinguished braids with golden beads, and then-

Thorin blinked, stopping his train of thought so abruptly he almost gave himself a heart attack, mouth going dry.

And then what, Thorin?

Then what?

"Raise, Dwarf"

He didn't exactly count it as a blessing, but given the fact that his thoughts were taking unknown paths of worrisome nature, it was slightly welcome. Thorin snapped his eyes open before the sound of a lock being turned and keys being manipulated reached his ears though, but, horribly enough, not before the Elf spoke to him. A small group of guards stood outside his cell with hands on their swords, staring down at him in the most literal way even from a few steps away, and Thorin only had a second of sneaking a look behind them to know more guards were indeed on the hallway, and making a run for it wasn't a bright idea. Instead, he glared at them.

"Where are you taking me?"

The elf with the keys almost snorted.

"Be grateful you are stepping outside of this cell"

Thorin was a second away from cursing at them.

Don't do anything stupid.

The fact that the voice whispering on his ear sounded a little bit too similar to Bilbo's almost made Thorin grimace.

He burned in his mind the turns they took, the hallways the walked by, and the steps they walked up. He glanced by the corner of his eyes to everything that would come into view, pondering possibilities and cursing inwardly when no other cells came into view. But the moment he thought he needed to find a way of finding the others was the exact same moment his Company came into view, just as the guards made him guard another moment. Thorin could have gapped at it if he were a lot younger.

"Uncle!"

Fili was the first one to notice him, but not the only one to try and rush to his side. A brown haired elf besides him stopped his nephew before he could take a step, and no small amount of pride swelled on Thorin's chest when his heir almost snarled at him.

"What is happening?"

Kili's whisper once he was indeed reunited with the rest of the Company, standing in front of big doors, wasn't exactly uncalled for. Not when Thorin himself and most probably Balin too wondered the same, because what use could possibly be for the elves to keep them together? Why would they put them so close to each other? Thorin knew, even if he didn't like to say it aloud and not even think about it, that living thousands upon thousands of years didn't come with certain benefits, and that they, indeed, were not stupid. So it didn't make any sense, at all. But instead of saying it, the King in exile shook his head towards his youngest nephew, and urged him with a nudge to stand straighter. Kili did, although slightly reluctant, until he nodded again and puffed out his chest.

"In"

Thorin's self-control faced a big obstacle when the doors opened, they were nudged inside, and behold, Thranduil was waiting for them on the other side, sitting on a giant chair that could have very well been of the same size of his throne and looking for all the world like he had called on some animals to entertain he ever bored state. It took every single ounce of will power not to curse at him at first sight, although Dwalin did so for him anyway –And so very colorfully, too- and in more than one language, but the neutral if not amused expression on the cursed Elf's face was almost too much to bear, and had his blood boiling under his skin. Thorin glared as he was nudged forward by a guard so to stand in front of his Company, willing his eyes to burn holes into the creature that was now assessing him with cold eyes.

"What do you want?"

"I do have one question to ask" Was finally said, and Thranduil kept on staring at him with, to Thorin's standards and assured mind, dead eyes. Dead and cold just like his soul and the soul of everyone in his kingdom was rotten. Of that he had no doubt, because there was no other explanation as why to follow such a leader. Thranduil hummed just when Thorin was starting to develop that thought if only to keep himself from cursing too soon –Don't do anything stupid. Don't do anything stupid, Thorin-, and it would have been fitting if it had sounded empty, but it didn't, and Thorin could only guess that glint right there was one of amusement "Embracing imprisoning, facing years upon years inside those cells. Do you not care of what has been of your fourteenth member?"

His boiling blood turned ice cold, freezing on his vein, and for the life of him, Thorin couldn't bring himself to figure out why it had felt as if time had stopped. He breathed in, and then breathed out, then repeated. He kept on glaring at the Elf to keep up appearances, and he became aware of his surroundings once more when he realized his Company was deadly quiet too, and that it wouldn't help any appearances being kept up. His mind raced alongside his heart rate, and it wasn't a pleasant feeling, none of it was.

Bilbo was brave. Oh so brave.

Thorin straightened his back and narrowed his eyes.

"What are you talking about, scum? I am not a Dwarf short"

Thranduil actually nodded, faster than what Thorin would have hoped for.

"Indeed"

He rose from the chair, almost pouring confidence out of every pore to the point Thorin truly thought he was going to be sick at merely being present to witness it, or at least sure that he was going to draw blood from his hands, as tightly as his hands were closed into fists, but he didn't look away. And so, the Dwarf watched as the Elf picked up something from a small table, his ears itching annoyingly when Thranduil's voice filled them once more. Dwalin's growl right besides him told him he wasn't the only one.

"My son, Legolas, said upon your arrival that he found on your possession what he thought was a stolen sword forged by our kin. But I have come to hear another side of the story, one that concerns Lord Elrond of Imaldris actually gifting you the sword. Do you know how?" He dropped the fabric right in front of Thorin, giving him no time to think about the implications of his words, and as much as the Dwarf would have liked to keep on glaring at the Elf, the familiar color caught his attention faster than what it took his brain to comprehend what they were being told. The second his eyes fell on what had once been a coat, now drenched in what had to be blood, a cold feeling crawled up his skin, whispering warnings in his ears as his memory brought more than one imagine forward, and when Ori gasped not far from him, the King knew he was not seeing things. But by the time he recognized the piece of clothing, the imagine on his head had become neat- Of a smiling creature wearing that same coat, washing it dutifully on Beorn's backyard, mending it with Dori while sitting by the fire. The blood running through his veins turned into fire, or perhaps it was ice, of that he would never be sure; the growing exclamations and realizations around him were received with numbed ears, but even in that state, even when he was as cold as stone, Thorin could still hear Thranduil, a sharp knife cutting through the fog that clouded his mind.

"That little creature was so adamant on us knowing you were no thief" A smirk, possibly sculled on the pale skin stretched out on the Elf's face, hands behind his back "The tiny being screamed and screamed, insisting on cleaning your name in such a small matter compared to wh-"

"What have you done to him!?"

Thranduil's guards were fast. Thorin was almost faster than them.

And so, he was held back by his shoulders before any part of him could connect with the King standing now closer than before. Thorin fought against their hands, teeth bared, eyes burning, ears ringing with the sound of many other voices. Because not far behind their king, the other Dwarves followed suit.

"Let me at him!"

"What do you think you-"

"-cowards-"

"What did you do-"

And although they were at their mercy, weaponless, outnumbered, tired, and chained, possibly reacting in a way and under circumstances that would have made any Elf laugh at them in mockery, Thranduil being the first one of them all, there was something slightly off about the situation. Of that, Thorin would come to notice later, much later.

Thranduil wasn't smiling.

He was not smirking.

He wasn't mocking them.

In fact, he didn't say anything for a solid minute, still as a statue, unblinking eyes asserting Thorin's still enraged state, and it would have datable if he had been breathing at all.

Until his jaw tensed.

"What have I done to him?"

The Elven King's tone was sharp, dangerous, venomous around the edges as he slowly paced towards him, close enough for the Dwarves to make a grab for if it weren't for the fact that they were still being held back, and had it been under other circumstances, Thorin would have actually paused to wonder just what had actually gotten Thranduil angry instead of bringing out the sarcastic remarks or mocking smiles, if only to repeat it over and over again. But now, Thorin looked about ready to return the sentiment "What do you think I have done to the Hobbit, Thorin Oakenshield?"

Said Dwarf struggled against the guards some more, willing his eyes to burn holes on that stupid pale face that was looking down at him in the most literal way, feeling more murderous at the moment than how he had felt in many years. And he had faced Azog.

"I will take one of your limbs for every hair you have touched of him, you bastard!"

That didn't seem to be the answer Thranduil was looking for, although he hardly looked concerned by the threat. Actually, that seemed to be the answer he was dreading to hear in all the wrong ways- His face turned into the closest thing he could muster to a scowl, as if angry at his choice of words instead of happy Thorin couldn't possibly do them honor in his situation, turning on his heels and walking towards the chair again. By the time he turned around once more to sit, his face was more impassive that seconds ago, but the displeased air around him was unmistakable.

"I had heard Hobbits were particularly good at helping who they thought deserved it" Were his next words, almost carefully measured. Then, his eyes glinted in an almost dark way "What kind of tale you told him to make the poor creature accompany you in such a quest? Or better yet. Where you waiting for him to save you from my dungeons?" The corner of his lips twisted in some way Thorin couldn't care to name, for what he was hearing had his blood boiling in a matter of seconds, his vision going blurry around the edges "Using such a small and fragile being for your benefit seems beneath a King"

"You know nothing!" Thorin's voice echoed in the room strongly, and by that time he was almost certain he had drawn blood from his hands "Is that how the Great Elven King wants to deal with this situation!? Then so be it!" The curses of his Company stopped at that, and the black haired dwarf squared his shoulders, lifting his chin as much as possible. His voice echoed once more, now because of the defying silence that reigned the room "I'll take his place! I'll take his place for whatever twisted thing you are thinking! So return Bilbo now!"

He was vaguely aware of Baling trying to say something against such thing.

He was almost certain Dwalin cursed at him in no way anyone would dare to curse at their King.

There was no doubt in his mind that both of his nephews were calling for him.

But the only thing Thorin could see, the only thing that remotely mattered at the moment, was the bloody coat on the floor. The only thing that mattered was so get that gentle creature to safety, with them, where the Hobbit belonged. To his side, even if it were for just a moment, because then he could make sure that everything was alright, could figure things later, as long as Bilbo was returned in one piece, and-

"As you wish"

Thorin stopped right there.

Thranduil's voice was smooth, if anything, a little bit tight around the edges. It completely betrayed the stoic façade he was putting up right now.

And despite the situation, despite everything that had been said, there was not a soul inside that room that believed those words were meant for Thorin.

One of the side doors of the room swung open almost immediately

"Thank you, Your Majesty"

It would have been a lot more regal to say that Thorin wasn't the first one to spin around to face the voice.

It also would have been a terrible, terrible lie.

"Bilbo!"

In all honesty, Kili called out the Hobbit's name even before Thorin could set eyes on him properly. The first thing he saw was a body completely covered in a deep green coat, hiding all articles of clothing and also all possible injuries. Despite this, it was his face that gave away his completely impeccable state- There was no dirt, no injuries. No scratches, and no sign or reminder of what they went through inside that dammed forest. Bilbo was completely clean, probably had took a bath recently, with brown curls framing his face and touching his shoulders, free of spider's webs or limbs. Bilbo looked as if he had not been ill at all, a sharp contrast in Thorin's memory of the last time he saw him.

There also was a smile on his face.

It didn't compare to the look of absolute relief.

Or maybe that right there was his own relief showing.

"You are okay!"

At this, Bilbo laughed quietly.

"I'm very sorry I stayed quiet and let you believe something that wasn't true" The corner of the Hobbit's lips turned into a very displeased frown, eyes flickering momentarily towards the Elven King that was now walking away from the Dwarves, sided by a red haired elf that Thorin remembered seeing back in the forest. The Captain of the Guard that made a round by his cell at least once during his imprisonment time. The Elf didn't look happier than Thranduil, though she didn't look as if she were ready to cage them again anytime soon- If anything, she seemed to shift uncomfortably when Bilbo spoke once more, voice laced with a neutral tone that would have made Balin proud "It was a lot worse than I thought it would be. But it was his Majesty's condition to let you out of your cells" Thorin didn't blink in confusion as his nephews were probably were doing, and he didn't look for other of his dwarfs to ponder on theories- He didn't need to, because that was the moment Bilbo looked at him

For a moment there, the Hobbit looked tired. So but so tired. More than the last time they had seen each other.

Sad, Bilbo also looked sad.

But above anything else, Bilbo looked resigned.

"And I promised I would get you out, no matter what"

It probably was to the growing wrath inside of Thorin.

Hours before

"I am fine"

"There is blood on you"

Bilbo held onto the fabric of her most certainly ruined coat with so much strength her knuckles had long since gone white, sitting on a chair that was far too large for her small form, but not as large as those at Beorn's, and for all the world looking as if she were about to march into her Granmother's living room to receive the scolding that was most probably waiting for her back at The Shire. It was a look that only people who knew they did wrong and couldn't possibly evade a lecture had, the solemn face of someone who was resigned to what was sure to come, and for the life of her, Bilbo couldn't stop feeling like a child waiting the verdict after breaking some plates and then running away, only to come back when they were too hungry to keep on hiding. The fact that Thranduil's hands were actually gazing the side of her head, blue eyes fixed on the possible but not quite injury on her forehead was certainly not helping in any way.

But the fact was that Thranduil didn't seem to believe her, though he didn't seem any closer to lecture her than he did a minute ago. She drew in one very sharp breathe indeed when he stepped away from her, most probably to call on a healer, turning on his heels with nothing more than what could have been the starting twitch of a frown on his lips.

"It is not mine"

It probably wasn't, to be honest.

And so, because she had sounded convincent enough, Bilbo paused alongside Thranduil. His back was turned to her for about ten seconds, which gave her the opportunity to take in the silky robes that reminded her of Elrond oh so much, and the straight blonde hair that had been irrefutably inherited by his son, before the King turned to look at her, movements as smooth as that of a cat. He moved to the side and after a moment or two the Hobbit dared to follow him with her eyes, watching as water was poured from what could have very well been an extremely expensive glass into a bowl.

She almost spluttered when the King of the Woodland Realm, warrior of many battles, leader of countless of ethereal beings, a quite ethereal being himself, kneeled in front of her with a wet fabric on his hand, and not precisely because of how he still was taller than her even in that position and she sitting on a quite tall chair. Bilbo was fairly certain he shouldn't be doing something like that, and she would have said so, insisted on the improperly of it all like any good Baggins would have done, even if it were in a high pinched and quite embarrassed voice, if it weren't for the fact that Thranduil proceeded to press the fabric to the side of her head gently, if not pointedly, as if she were a child who needed to shut up and silence who was being told to do so without words.

But then he sighed. It was so low even Bilbo had to strain her Hobbit ears to hear it, and her eyes to see the slight fall of his chest. And when she identified the gesture she found herself not knowing what to do with it, not knowing how to react or what to say or what to think about it. Because Thranduil still looked very much like the king he was, impassive and non-responsive in the most explicit way, but he did small things, almost unknown gestures to his whole appearance, that had her without knowing what to do with it. Luckily, he didn't seem to be expecting her to do anything at all, or to say anything at all, because that was when he spoke, at last.

"I do wonder" He started, eyes fixed on the fabric pressed against her head "If there is a limit to how many surprises you can bring to my attention in such a short amount of time"

There was something about the way she said it, about the slight tilt of his head to one side, the one blink he allowed himself to show her, that had Bilbo's lip twitching into a smile.

Despite the head splitting headache pounding inside her skull, so painful she could probably cry years of blood at that point, she smiled.

And that was one of those moments in which she could allow herself to be proud of her apparently not so weak will. If felt good to know your mind was stronger than your body, though to which point, she truly didn't want to find out.

To all honesty the sounds of doors being almost slammed upon in what apparently was urgency didn't exactly help it, even less when the sound startled the Hobbit to the point she jumped in place, pressing a little bit harder an apparent bump on the side of the head into Thranduil's hand. She had about two and a half seconds of wincing before trying to find the source of the sound, not exactly noticing the elf had not even blinked at the sound until he was very calmly raising to his feet, robes moving swiftly alongside his long limbs. Bilbo tried not to look too out of place when her ears caught into footsteps down the stairs she herself had walked not long ago to face the King, but it wasn't much later than the source stepped into her view- Actually, the elf froze on place as soon as their eyes met, and it wasn't the first time that day she had stared at those clear blue eyes.

Now that she had a chance to see him up close, the Hobbit could see that Legolas was as tall as his father, and his hair was no doubt inherited from him. He was still dressed on the same clothes, a slight armor covering his arms, and she could peek over his shoulder at the twin blades he carried on his back. But in all honesty, those were details she forced herself to notice in order to keep his gaze to succeed on burning holes into her face, and Bilbo really didn't know if it was absolutely necessary for Thranduil to step aside and let him have a full view of the disarray she currently was. But when the silence stretched to uncomfortable limits, she surrounded herself to what couldn't be postponed and looked at Legolas and his almost outstretched arms. She had certainly never seen an Elf almost inching closer towards something, but then again, lately she hadn't seen much of this 'less wise' elves to know if it was normal or not.

Bilbo really doubted inching towards a hobbit as if she were an animal to be scared of was normal, but still.

"Bilbo?" After what seemed like a tense eternity, his voice reached her ears. Said Hobbit willed her shoulders to not look as tense as she felt them when he approached a little bit more openly, probably when she didn't in fact bare her teeth. Legolas seemed to hesitate a moment before fully stepping in front of her, surprisingly enough focusing on her eyes instead of her messy attire and most certainly filthy hair "Do… you know who I am?"

-"I will teach you. I am sure I can find a bow your size- It will be a nice surprise for Lady Belladona, don't you think?"-

He could have very well just outright kicked her head, the pounding almost too loud to her ears, the pain almost too much to bear.

But Bilbo managed to muster something that resemble very much a chuckle.

"Legolas, I assure you I am not going to bite"

Granted, Bungo Baggins was most probably rolling on his grave due to this daughters' most inappropriate choice of words for a greeting that was supposed to be directed to royalty.

But at least it made him look less afraid of breathing loudly.

For the second time that day Bilbo quite unwillingly found herself with a blonde elf on one knee right in front of her, but the obvious differences between Thranduil and his son were so many she didn't even find the time to feel flustered about the whole thing, the word of complaint dying on her throat before it even had the chance to reach her tongue. Where the King's face was impassive and perfectly neutral, thousands upon thousands of years of practice to thank for that, Legolas' face didn't show anything remotely close to that type of control- There were lines of sentiment and carefulness all over his otherwise young face, because although he was old enough to be her ancestor, he was still a young Elf who didn't seem to mind showing how he felt or didn't seem to bother acting as if he had seen it all.

"What happened to you?" The whisper was so gentle, so perfectly tender, so deeply worried, that Bilbo had to blink back tears that suddenly decided to take a peek of the outside world, sniffing slightly when Legolas looked at the entirety of her face with clear blue eyes, taking in every cut and every drop of blood son her skin, squeezing her hands ever so slightly when the he caught the few bruises Bilbo could certainly feel on the side of her forehead, probably from that time she had fell from a very tall tree and into the ground. The elf actually did a double take when he got to her hair, and the Hobbit should have probably felt embarrassed by what came next, right after his blinking eyes and almost strangled question "Are those spider's legs?"

Bilbo closed her eyes in distaste and shifted on the chair, suddenly aware of what probably was on her hair, and spiders were probably not the only bug that had made their way to her curls, but there really was nothing left for her to do than grimace in a way that reminded Bilbo herself way too much of a pair of siblings that liked to toss knifes and that had no concept of personal space. The Hobbit was sure none of her relatives and none of the elves she knew would be too amused at that little piece of information.

"….Yes" There was no way of knowing what Thranduil even thought of that, not with his body turned completely towards her with a stiffness she had only seen on a piece of furniture and his face perfectly carved on ice, eyes ironically enough burning into her with a force she had not felt since her father was alive and last lectured her about the importance of not running around with sharp things, so the Hobbit only risked a small peek at the Elven King before clearing her throat and trying to regain her composure, brushing away what traits Fili and Kili had passed onto her "I didn't have time to comb them out, after being kidnaped and almost eaten" The corner of her mouth twitched despite of her resolve, and Legolas face, which at the moment was a lot easier to take on than Thranduil's, went from bad to 'I shall be sick soon enough' in a very short amount of time "Or a comb to do so"

She really needed to stop talking like a Took.

Or a Kili.

Really.

If Legolas' expression was anything to go by, he probably wished her to stop acting like one too. He was frozen in place, hands still engulfing hers, and most certainly not blinking. If it weren't for the sharp intake of breathe a few seconds ago Bilbo would have doubted he was even breathing. With elves it was quite hard to tell.

"You fought the giant spiders"

The Prince probably tried to hide whatever sort of surprise there could have possibly be laced with his voice, but once more his eyes betrayed him, and Bilbo tried not to feel too offended by it. Really, never had she thought she would be offended by someone thinking she could not fight, if anything, it should be the first thing to be assumed. But by the same she thought of that, her hands were already reaching for the sword tied to her belt that the coat managed to cover, trying her best not to shrink under their stares when they realized she was carrying what most certainly was a weapon, something that was confirmed the moment she placed it on Legolas' hands "Might not be more than a letter opener to you, but it is about my size" Bilbo could practically see the moment Legolas' eyes caught on the design and the place of where the whole blade came from, because he had taken from a certain dark haired dwarf a weapon that had the same origin. It was the moment Bilbo's heart rate rose, the moment her palms started to sweat and curled around the fabric of her trousers, the moment she took a deep breath and prepared herself for what she had decided to do. Because nor a Baggins nor a Took ever backed down on what they thought was right, because even things that were right could hurt, and that was what duty meant "And I…. wasn't alone"

There was a pause in their movements, a pause before Legolas lowered one of his hands, the one holding Sting.

"You mean to say" He started in a low, almost hesitating voice "You came with those dwarves"

"I'm the fourteenth member of the Company" She said slowly, if anything, to give herself the opportunity to take control of her own emotions as she said it, taking deep, supposed to be calming breathes as Thranduil's eyes refused to leave her person. Bilbo gulped ever so slightly, but kept on talking anyway "I've been travelling together with them since The Shire. Through plain, valleys and mountains, and less pleasant places, through all kinds of situations" Her fingers brushed a couple of her curls, some of the ones that were quite visibly covered in webs, hanging in front of her eyes before she pushed it back, shaking her head with a small, strained smile when Thranduil didn't even blink at her words "We have gone through a lot together"

There was a long, long, long silence after the words left her, one that seemed to last for hours. And it could have been a lie to say the Hobbit hadn't been expecting something along those lines to happen- It had been either that, or a very disappointed look, the one that she probably wouldn't be able to bear without regretting her choice of following this plan through. But she had to try, she had to try and see it through because it was an important thing, more important than whatever guilt she could possibly feel on the pit of her stomach, so Bilbo tried to sit as straight as possibly, eyes not leaving Thranduil as the silence almost rung on her ears. His clear eyes seemed to be trying to bring out whatever secret her soul was hiding from view, and it that would make the outcome of the situation a satisfactory one, then so be it. She tried not to blink, tried to make her eyes as transparent as possible, tried to convey her intentions without needing to say it, tried to show that she was, in fact, set on this, that she wasn't ashamed and that she wasn't afraid.

Because she wasn't.

But looking like what she truly wasn't happened to come naturally to her.

Thranduil approached her side without breaking eye contact, and the second his head was tilted to one side, Bilbo's breathing stopped for about the same amount of time it took him to brush aside one of her curls with the tips of his fingers. It probably was longer, though, probably lasting until he decided to finally speak his mind.

"You want to ask me to free those who has trespassed my lands"

Bilbo's mouth was open before she could think of what she was about to say.

"We entered through an unbarred gate with no one around to ask if it was okay or not to use that path. I hardly find it in me to call it trespassing"

It was then that Bilbo froze, with such intensity no one would have doubted if a winter storm were actually building up inside of her tiny body. And this time around, there was no hiding the blush crawling up her cheeks under the dirt, because the King had cleaned some if not most, and because she felt so embarrassed she probably looked like one of her prize winning tomatoes. If she happened to get out of this room without being arrested for being disrespectful then she would surely find a way to kill the dwarves herself, because it was them the ones who had tucked such way of speaking and such complete disregard for respect into her brain. Then, she would surely find some nice hole to bury herself. And what made it worse was the fact that the King actually raised an eyebrow at her words, otherwise doing nothing to show how close he was of throwing her to his dungeons too.

Then, Legolas chuckled, and the Hobbit gaped at him.

"You are exactly the type of Hobbit I knew you would grow up to be" A short laugh left his lips in quite an amused way, eyes twinkling alongside, and another chuckle accompanied it shortly after, almost as if he truly couldn't stop himself from laughing at the whole thing, almost as if she hadn't been most improper and most certainly, un respectful. Something similar, but not quite, to a grimace graced his face and betraying how young he really was in comparison to his face, tilting his own head to one side as if he were trying to lessen what he was about to say "But why dwarves, Bilbo?"

Why indeed?

She could hardly repeat her speech back to when they escaped the Goblin Tunnels, now could she? She could hardly repeat whatever Gandalf had said to try and convince her to come along. She could not, certainly, repeat any of the small vows and promises she had heard each member of the Company say during their journey, because she was no dwarf of Erebor, no descendant of Durin, no one who deserved to do such thing. She was a Hobbit, a Master of Bag End, the Head of her Family, a lass who didn't really know how to use a sword for anything that wasn't clumsy stabbing, and that only knew how to use a bow which arrows could run out at any moment. She was but Bilbo Baggins. So, she answered as such.

"Because they are my friends"

Legolas stopped but a second before raising his free hand towards hers once more, holding her small palm in a very soft, very gentle manner, not looking at all surprised, if a bit displeased. He sighed quietly and she tried to offer a smile that was supposed to be apologetical, or at least so in her mind, and he sighed once more, shaking his head slightly from side to side.

"Are we still your friends?"

Ah

There is was.

Of course, of course something like that was going to be said. Bilbo knew it, she had known it before stepping into this mess. Because these people, these immortal beings with all their grace and wisdom and ethereal kingdom, looking as if not a day had passed, as if a little over twenty years had not passed, didn't exactly know the extent of her memories of them. Because she had walked in, looking and speaking for all the world as if she remembered every word and meal exchanged in the past, every single detail from her youngest years.

But she didn't.

She didn't and they thought she did.

She didn't, and as they looked at her with something incredibly resembling to tenderness, as they worried for her safety and wellbeing and didn't go implicitly angry at that little bit of information about her Company although years upon years of –in her humble opinion- senseless fighting and more recent arguments had to at least made them wary of the situation, she had to explain that she really, really didn't. Maybe with not so many words and a prettier phrasing, but tell them nonetheless. So Bilbo swallowed her anxiety, she blinked away the dread of having to speak about it, she batted away the pain bumping into her head as if every thought scrapped the insides of her skull to get out, and then she opened her mouth.

"It… has been very tiring, very hard to explain" And it hurts, she would have loved to say out loud, just to get it out of her chest, in case it actually helped to subdue said pain. She didn't "But I… I remember, some things at least" Hesitantly, slowly, she reached for Legolas' hands with the tip of her fingers. They were waiting for her right there, squeezing a degree of comprehension she didn't feel she deserved, and looking like no matter what she said, nothing could possibly be wrong with it. Ironically enough, it was that look one of the things she did remember, but if it had mean to make things easier, it had the opposite effect "It just doesn't feel like I do"

It was the same as saying it didn't feel like she knew them. It was the same as saying she didn't really knew who they were.

There wasn't a heavy, strangling silence even though they most certainly had heard her. There was sigh, no heavy eyes, or anything remotely similar. Her eyes searched Legolas' face and then Thranduil's, slowly turning her head from side to side, her lips pressing themselves into a straight line to keep any unnecessary sounds to come out as she read their expressions and what they could possibly mean. Bilbo closed her eyes, and there was no denying that the tears she blinked away this time around weren't because of pain.

They weren't surprised.

She could have sobbed at that.

"So I have to ask you" It was nothing more than a whisper, but there was absolutely no way they did not hear and understand every single words. The tangle on her chest got loose a little bit when the large hands squeezed her palms in a reassuring way "Am I still your friend?"

It was the only question that was worth asking at that moment.

Because there were more important things to do than to worry about images and memories and a past that brought her more physical pain than what she had been prepared to brace. There were more important things to take care off, things that needed her immediate attention, in the form of thirteen dwarves under lock and key. Later, when Thorin probably kicks her out of the Company because of treason or whatever reason he would probably come up with after hearing her explanation –If she let her do as much before snapping-, she would have the time to settle things straight, to cry into someone's shoulder and complain as if she still were on her Tweens, to curse at Gandalf in every tongue she knew, and to throw a tantrum that would make any Took child proud.

She really tried not to cry at the thought of Thorin. She really wanted to cry.

She didn't do it.