"He isn't ANYWHERE! Why can't I find him?"

Bilba sank to her knees on the last word, her voice catching in a sob. She reached out to grab the bars of the cell she knelt in front of, her fingers curling around them so hard it was a wonder they didn't break.

Three weeks.

Three WEEKS since the Company had been dragged in, stripped of their armor and weapons and shoved into individual cells.

Balin had taken it as a good sign, stating the fact no one had come to question them meant Thorin must be there, somewhere, being questioned in their stead.

So Bilba had searched.

She had looked in other cells and rooms, walked down long hallways, through the throne room and investigated the kitchens. She'd been forced to wear her ring to avoid detection but, even with the washed out grays, there was no disguising the splendor of the place. At any other time she'd have been in awe.

Now all she could see was Thorin, lost and bleeding in the forest, wrapped in a cocoon in some obscure part of the tree where she hadn't looked. All she could see was him in pain, SUFFERING, begging for someone to come find him.

All she could feel was the same pain she had felt lying in the cave with her dead parents, praying someone, anyone would find her.

All she could remember was the despair when no one had.

And overlying all that was the guilt, pushed aside only to now come surging back to life in light of another failure.

Every time she closed her eyes in some obscure corner or nook she saw Bungo, her mother, her father, Atherton and everyone else she'd ever failed to save. She'd woken up screaming so many times it was a wonder the elves had not found her on that basis alone.

"I missed him," she sobbed now, her head bent so far down it nearly touched the floor even as she left her arms up, gripping the door of the cell. "He was in the tree, he must have been and I MISSED him."

"Bilba." Fili's voice was commanding, none of the laughter or glee he normally expressed.

Fingers slid through the bars from the inside, wrapping around her hands as best as possible.

"Bilba," Fili said again, "look at me. BILBA."

She raised her head. She'd taken off the ring at his insistence and knew by the look on his face she must look even worse than she felt.

Now he locked eyes with her, pressing as close to the door on his side as he could.

"He wasn't in the tree, Bilba."

"The one next to it--"

"NO." Fili looked at her until he was sure she was paying attention. "He wasn't with the spiders, Bilba. They never took him."

He had told her that before. Thorin hadn't heard, or listened, to her when she'd talked about climbing the trees. He'd gone with his original plan of splitting up and the last anyone had seen of him he'd been striding confidently into the trees. The others had been too dazed by the aura of the forest to stop him and the spiders had attacked only moments later.

Still, if there had been more spiders in the forest, if one had grabbed him and dragged him to another tree...

"Stop thinking like that," Fili ordered his voice sharp.

Bilba flinched. She struggled to gain control over herself, her breath hitching in her throat. Her hands on the bars shook and she leaned forward weakly, resting her head on the door.

"Have you been eating enough?"

"You would know," Bilba replied dully. It had been Fili who'd realized that, hiding as she was, she had little to no access to food. They were brought food on regular schedules and had taken to hiding portions away until after the guards had removed their plates and cups. After that Bilba would come and they would pass the food out to her. She was on her own for water but the place had plenty of fountains so it hadn't been an issue.

Bilba didn't have the heart to tell him that, for the most part, she'd been unable to keep the food down for the past week and a half. The torture of not knowing what had happened to Thorin was every bit as bad as what she'd felt for her parents. It had taken months for her to come to terms with it and, even then, it had never fully faded. As bad as the truth had been when she'd remembered it she would take it over the agony of not knowing.

At least with her family she knew they weren't suffering.

"I still say he's here," Balin's voice came from a nearby cell. "There's no other reason for Thranduil to keep us here for so long. He hasn't bothered to say so much as a single word to any of us, why?"

"Because he's a bastard?" Bilba asked tiredly.

She'd seen him once or twice, striding through the halls in his long robes and ridiculous crown. A few times she'd seen the blond elf who'd captured them with him, their form and features so alike they could only have been father and son.

She wanted to scream at them, to demand to know where Thorin was. To do so would be to give herself away, however, and would most likely only get her thrown in a cell with the others.

"Have you been watching the kitchens?" Kili's voice came from the cell right next to Fili's, his voice tired. They were all tired. Being forced to sit in a small cell with nothing to do for hours and days and weeks on end was its own form of torture, even without the worry she knew the rest of them shared over Thorin.

"I told you already," Bilba said, her voice flat. "I've followed them all, they lead nowhere."

She had spent days following food as it left the kitchen. She'd stake the place out at breakfast, lunch and dinner and follow meals as they left. She'd found Thranduil and his son usually ate together while many of the guards ate at their posts. The meals the dwarves were given came from the same kitchens as well.

The cruelest event had happened just a short while ago when she'd found a servant with a single tray of food clearly intended for just one person. She'd trailed him, her excitement and hope mounting with each step.

He'd finally reached a small room, knocked and entered. Bilba had trailed behind and felt her hopes shattered as the servant presented the meal to an elf.

Even in her despair, Bilba found herself momentarily entranced by him. She was positive she'd never seen him before for there was no way she'd have forgotten him if she had. His body was lithe and strong and, while his face was young, his eyes held an unfathomable wisdom. His hair was long and golden; trailing down his back and mingling with the golden armor he wore. His skin, where she could see it, seemed to glow with a soft inner light and his voice, when he thanked the servant, was melodic.

It was only when he, for a brief second, turned his eyes in her direction that despair crashed back on her for the strange elf had eyes every bit as blue as Thorin's and grief nearly overwhelmed her at the fear she would never see them again.

She had fled from the room and gone straight to the cells where she now knelt, struggling to gain control of herself. Her stomach roiled and clenched, threatening to expel the little she had managed to get down that day.

"—different rotation."

She frowned and looked at Fili. "What?"

"I said," he repeated, "maybe they bring food to Uncle on a different rotation. Why don't you try staking the kitchen out for the entire day?"

"It's also possible there's more than one kitchen," Bombur's voice came from a cell on a level over their heads, "it's a big place after all."

Bilba studied Fili, her eyes tracing over the rumpled state of his clothes, the halfheartedly completed braids in his hair.

"Do you really believe he's here?" she asked a plea in her voice.

Fili's hands tightened around hers on the bar and he leaned forward until his forehead rested opposite hers.

"I do."

"You're a terrible liar," Bilba whispered, her voice so low only he could hear.

He didn't respond, just ducked his head with a sigh, his eyes going to the floor.

Bilba adjusted her grip and pushed to her feet. For a second she swayed, black spots dancing in her vision, but she caught herself and straightened.

She let out one last shuddering breath and slid the ring back on her finger, the world snapping into what was quickly becoming an all too familiar washed out gray.

She went back to the kitchens. Once inside she found a small nook near the back and squeezed herself in. It was just past lunch and not yet time for dinner so there was little activity going on. Briefly she considered looking for some scraps but then changed her mind as her stomach rebelled at the thought. A day or two earlier she'd scrounged around until she'd found a few pieces of cheese. Normally she loved cheese but the mere sight of it had set her gagging, revulsion clawing up her throat.

Apparently her tastes had changed, along with her stress level. She knew full well she was making herself ill but couldn't seem to turn it off. It was her family all over again, not to mention the rest of the Company locked up for Valar who knew how long and her being forced to hide and keep away from the elves.

Exhaustion tugged at her and she leaned back against the wall of the small alcove. Maybe she'd rest for just a second or two. It was unlikely anything important would happen in the next few hours and, even if it did and she missed it, she'd be back tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, and the one after that.

Despair settled over her and she drew her knees up, wrapping her arms around them.

She fell asleep at some point after that, falling into a fitful, if thankfully dreamless, sleep.

She woke to darkness.

Bilba blinked in confusion. She'd apparently slept incredibly deeply and, for a moment, felt as though she were pulling herself out of molasses. Given the silence and cold around her it would appear she'd somehow managed to sleep right through the preparation of dinner and straight into the night.

She was fortunate no one had stumbled across her.

She started to turn, the others would be worried that she hadn't shown up for dinner, and very nearly shrieked to find herself face to face with the elf she'd seen eating alone earlier.

He grinned. "Ah, my wraith finally awakes. I was beginning to think you'd sleep forever."

Bilba gaped at him. As before a soft glow seemed to emanate from his skin, it would probably go unnoticed in full sun and had been subtle when she'd seen him in his room. Here, in the dark, it was brighter, lighting his skin and cascading through his hair.

She held her breath and stayed still, praying he'd get bored and go away. As she did she noticed he was sitting cross legged before her alcove with his sword out and laid across his lap.

He raised an eyebrow. "You don't really think that's going to work do you?"

It was a testament to how tired she was that it wasn't until that very moment that it occurred to Bilba she was seeing him as though she were not wearing the ring, no washed out color, no gray cast. She looked down frantically to find that, yes, she was still wearing the ring and, yes, the rest of the world around her was still washed out and gray.

"Ah, it's that ring then is it?" He leaned forward, studying her with those confounded blue eyes of his. "I thought you were a bit small to be a true wraith but you never can tell these days." He sighed, "There are many magic rings in the world, you know, and most of them aren't meant to be worn for extended stretches. How long have you been wearing yours?"

She didn't answer him. It was none of his business how long she'd been wearing HER ring.

He shifted and stood up, sheathing his sword easily. He then proceeded to hold a hand out toward her.

"Come on then."

Bilba hesitated. He made an exasperated sound and knelt. Reaching in he slid a hand into hers and gently pulled until she was forced to scramble out and stand next to him.

Without letting go of her hand he proceeded to turn and walk out of the kitchen, bringing her along with him.

The torches in the halls were dim but there were still a number of elves out and about. Bilba expected him to turn her over to one of them but he didn't, simply nodding at them as they passed. She wondered if any of them were curious as to why he appeared to be holding hands with something they couldn't see but not one of them commented and he didn't seem to care. In fact every elf they passed stopped whatever they were doing and gave a respectful bow until he had passed by.

They didn't stop until they'd arrived back at his rooms, where the elf turned and shut the doors behind him once they'd gone in.

As soon as they were closed Bilba, without thinking, blurted, "Why are you wearing armor in here? Isn't it safe enough?"

"Says the person wearing the invisibility ring," came the dry response. He gave a languid shrug, "You can never be too careful."

He leaned against the door casually. "Are you going to take the ring off now or keep pretending I can't see you?"

Bilba sighed. She reached down and tugged the ring off, sliding it into a pocket. When she looked up again the elf's eyes were narrowed and there was a tense set to his jaw.

"As I thought," he muttered. "When was the last time you ate?"

"I've eaten," Bilba mumbled. She slid her arms across her chest and focused on the floor. "I just can't keep it down."

"Why not?"

Tears burned at the back of her eyes and she clenched her hands into fists, fingers digging into her palms. She looked at the floor and drew in a shaky breath, struggling to control herself.

Footsteps sounded across the floor and then the elf knelt on one leg before her.

"What is it, little one?" He asked his voice gentle. "What has you so distraught?"

"I can't FIND him," Bilba blurted, her voice catching on a sob. "I can't FIND him and he could be hurt or dead or needing my help and he might have been right there and I MISSED him. He isn't ANYWHERE and – and--"

Her voice trailed off helplessly on a sob and put a forearm over her eyes, embarrassed at breaking down, and in front of a stranger no less.

Hands gripped her shoulders and warmth rushed over her, followed closely by a sense of calm and peace. Bilba felt control returning to her and lifted her face to find his eyes mere inches from hers.

"Who is it you seek?" he asked.

"Thorin," Bilba answered instantly, though she couldn't explain why she told him. "I can't FIND him."

His features hardened for a moment with something like anger, though she had a feeling it wasn't directed at her.

"Come with me," he said, holding his hand out once more. "You'll probably need that ring of yours again."

Bilba frowned in confusion but obediently retrieved the ring and put it on. She felt calmer than she had in weeks, though her stomach still worked against her, and she took his hand without hesitation.

He led her back out of the room and through the halls. They took a route that was familiar to her at first but quickly became unfamiliar, going through doors and around corners and up only to turn and go back down again. It was a maze that she doubted she could retrace on her own. Eventually she noticed they were going steadily lower and also that she could smell the faintest hint of water.

"Is there a river down here?"

He looked down at her in surprise. "You can smell it already? I hadn't realized the Shirelings had that developed a sense of smell."

She shrugged.

"There is a river," he replied. "It runs all the way to the town the Men inhabit. Thranduil uses it to exchange goods."

That brought the slightest twinge of interest. By this time they were on a flight of stairs she'd never seen, it moved in a loose loop, twirling down further and further. "The town of Men? Do you mean Lake-town?"

He nodded. "Indeed. Though why Men would seek to stay in the shadow of a dragon is beyond me." He grinned at her. "There is no explaining the decisions of Men sometimes. I've long given up trying."

"Who are you?" Bilba asked, startled to realize she hadn't yet asked. "You're not the King. I've seen him."

"Tell you what," he responded. "I'll tell you who I am if you tell me who you are, and where you got that ring you carry."

"I'll consider it," Bilba answered, "it depends on where we're going."

He gave her a look of approval. "You'll see in a moment. I think you'll be quite happy with our destination."

She glowered at him and didn't answer.

They reached the bottom finally. As they stepped off the stairs onto wooden flooring she could hear the sound of rushing water from under her feet. The room itself was large and well lit, filled with barrels and racks of wine and food.

"Once I distract them just go through the door, it isn't locked."

She looked up at him in confusion, "what?"

He ignored her. "I'll come back in an hour or so to retrieve you. I imagine your mood will be much improved by then."

Before she could reply he stepped forward, pulling her along. They rounded a corner and she saw, at the end of the room, a large closed door. Two elves stood on either side of it, both in full armor and wearing swords.

It was almost like they were guarding the door.

Bilba felt her breath pick up. It couldn't be.

The elf had released her hand and approached the two guards, speaking easily to them in Sindarin. The two elves both responded eagerly, looking in awe at the other elf. Bilba listened as he explained he'd been unable to sleep and, feeling they would be as bored as he was, had come to invite them to a card game and a drink. One of the guards mentioned they needed to watch the door to which the reply was they didn't have to go far and wasn't the prisoner restrained?

The prisoner.

Bilba staggered as her heart literally wrenched in her chest. She put a hand on the wall, bracing herself as her legs went weak.

Her elf led the two guards away, off toward a further section of the room, around a corner and out of sight.

Bilba wasted no time, scrambling to the door. Once there she grabbed the handle and then paused as her body locked up on her in fear. What if it was all just a cruel trick? What if she opened the door and the room beyond was empty?

"Please," she whispered, "oh please."

She pulled the door open, grateful for the first time for elven architecture that caused it to slide open without a sound.

Light spilled into the room beyond, revealing what had probably once been a small pantry, now emptied and bare.

At the very back sat a figure, his legs pulled up, arms draped over them and head down. Thick manacles were locked around both wrists, heavy chains leading back into the walls.

He didn't look up as the door opened though she saw his body tense.

"What do you want?" A familiar baritone growled and Bilba felt her heart stop in her chest. "Back to mock me in my despair?"

"No," Bilba whispered, "never."

His head snapped up, eyes wide. Bilba took the ring off, stepped forward and shut the door behind her. Darkness dropped over her but she didn't need light to make it the few feet to where Thorin was.