Hobbit 1. Chapter 1

The journey from Beorn's house to Mirkwood was no easy distance by foot, however, on pony, it enabled the company to look on the beauty of the region in relative comfort, a respite from the high-strung anticipation of orc attack that had followed them since the confrontation outside the goblin den. The company kept their eyes moving however, looking for any signs of danger that may appear. Thorin was apprehensive ever since the attack outside the Misty Mountains. His shoulder was healing well, thanks to Gandalf and though it was still sore, he ignored the discomfort and focused all his energy on getting to the gates of Erebor before Durin's Day, which was quickly approaching.

Bilbo gazed upon the land high upon his pony. He missed Myrtle, his old pony companion, and he wished he had more time to develop a bond with this one as well. He stroked her majestic locks fondly, trying to send her a message giving her thanks for carrying him. The fields stretched in expanse on the horizon and far in the distance he could make out a dark line which suggested the location of Mirkwood. The company traveled in silence, due to the deadline which hung over them so closely, the desperation to reach Erebor's gates and possibly make their homes there again. As Mirkwood loomed closer, Bilbo sensed it was neither as grand nor beautiful as he was expecting it to be, as it was told in the tales and stories. He was excited to see more elves; however he knew that his fellow companions would scarcely feel the same positive anticipation. As a gust of wind rushed from the direction of the forest, He smelled something strange emanating from it. It smelled not of fresh greenery or that healthy dampness that accompanies a forest haven, but a smell of rot, a faint odor that Bilbo, coming from The Shire, land of gardens and farmland, and of beautiful woods, found unfamiliar and unwelcoming. He pulled his pony up to Gandalf's horse and surreptitiously examined the wizard's face, trying to notice any sign that the wizard may have sensed something amiss as well. There was nothing. Gandalf pulled his mind from his thoughts, noticing Bilbo's proximity for the first time. "Bilbo, is there something you want to tell me?"

Though his thoughts had been of Mirkwood and foreboding upon entering it, Gandalf's question brought another thought to his mind, something that had been bothering him and that he had wanted to tell Gandalf as soon as he had found it: The Ring. The clearly magical ring that allowed him to pass unnoticed amongst goblins in the tunnels of the misty mountains, to escape the clutches of that wretched creature, Gollum. The Ring that may come to be so much of use when the time came for him confront the likes of Smaug, the Terrible, and perhaps, escape. Though he knew that it might be important to tell Gandalf, that he may learn more of the Ring's capabilities, something told him not to. The Ring was Bilbo's and no one else's business. Not even that of his wise friend, Gandalf. He could not chance losing something that he was growing so fond of. So Bilbo avoided that answer, and pulled his mind back to the reason he had wanted to be near Gandalf. "The forest, it feels sick."

Gandalf peered at the approaching forest, sniffed his large beaky nose and squinted as it, as though to read something in the distant boughs. A crease furrowed in his ancient brow. After a few seconds, he looked back down at Bilbo, smiling. "I forget the keen senses of Hobbits!" his face grew grave. "Yes, there is something amiss in the forest Bilbo, but that is nothing to fear. Mirkwood has always been a dangerous place. The woodland elves are not like Elrond's folk. They are less wise and friendly and more guarded and rash." Bilbo frowned. This certainly wasn't making him feel better about entering this unfamiliar territory. "My point is, my dear hobbit, is that the danger of this place is no more than it has ever been. " Gandalf meant to encourage Bilbo. The dangers they would face were most likely to be less lethal than the dangers behind them. And they could handle them.

As they dismounted, Gandalf instructed the dwarves to let the ponies free, to go back to Beorn's house where they would be safe. Bilbo thought to himself that this was odd- Elves wouldn't eat pony meat, and certainly they strayed beyond their woodland realm to defend it. Then realization hit Bilbo. The woodland realm was their defense. He gulped, fearing what may lie ahead. Gandalf remained mounted. "I am leaving you. There are affairs I must look to. I may see you yet in Erebor." The dwarves looked at him with shock and disappointment. Thorin was angered. The wizard only decided to tell him this now? He was counting on the Wizard's help in passing through the accursed elf- land. He quickly dismissed the rage with reason. Of course the Wizard has more important affairs to turn to. After all, Thorin trusted Gandalf with his life, and believed that his absence would not lead them astray. 13 dwarves should be able to pass through this measly forest.

Bilbo was not terribly surprised. No wonder Gandalf had attempted to ease his worry with wise words. Remembering what he had wanted to tell Gandalf, and realizing he probably should, and recognizing tht Gandalf would want him to be safe and therefore not jeopardize that, He approached the departing wizard. "There is something I wanted to tell you. Something I found in the Goblin tunnels." "Well," the wizard replied, "What did you find?" Bilbo gulped, and without thinking of the lie, only of the fear of losing his talisman to this unpredictable wizard, a fear that had been dismissed in his heart not 9 seconds ago, answered, "My courage." The wizard smiled. "That's good! You'll need it!" And with that, he departed with a meaningful glare. Bilbo stood, floored as the wizards robes rushed behind him as he rode off across the plain. The dwarves were gathering themselves before entering the forest. Thorin waited for Bilbo to join them, nodded to each of them, then stepped into the wood. The rest followed, one after another.

Kili's eyes were large, trying to take the enormity of the forest into account. Something made him feel extremely uneasy, and it didn't make him feel any better when Bilbo muttered to himself, for a second time, "This forest is sick." The dead trees suddenly transformed themselves into gigantic, bony arms whose wasted fingers spread clawlike around the path and toward the brown, dark canopy above. The dead leaves which clung to the twigs and to the forest floor appeard as curled bits of dried parchment, dead flesh. There was little greenery to be seen, except for the monstrous fungi that hung randomly and freakishly from the larger trees. It looked exactly like one of his nightmares. Kili gulped and looked to his brother, looking for some shared trepidation that would lend him comfort. The blonde shrugged, only understanding on his features, and stepped forward after the company. Fili was terrified as well,noticing all that Kili had, but he also wanted to give his brother courage, strength to fight the fear. The desire to protect was greater than the terror. He hid his racing heart under a composed face and walked on before Kili could see the dread that danced across his features. Bofur, who was behind Kili, patted him on the shoulder, knowing what the young dwarf was feeling. All the scary childhood stories made about such places were drawing to light in all the dwarves' minds, unbeknownst to Kili. He always thought he was the weakest one amongst such reputable dwarven warriors. He steeled himself. He must not show his fear. He had to prove to his uncle that he was an asset to the group, a brave dwarf, a skilled warrior. He looked back at Bofur, smiled with a confident grin, halfway convincing Bofur that the lad was in fact not scared. Bofur contemplated whether Kili was as reckless as his mother Vili had said, or if he was merely putting on a brave face. He decided he would leave the choice to be determined later. Kili faced forward, took a deep breath and followed his brother, still gazing around with guarded eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

The forest floor was thick with twigs, dead leaves, and lichen, which covered the infrequent flagstones which marked the path. Under his calm and striding exterior, Thorin, the future King under the Mountain, was sweating. He cursed the wizard Gandalf for leaving him with no warning. He could have taken the time to ask Gandalf where exactly to go, what paths to take, what to avoid. He was so blinded by his desire to reach Erebor that he had not considered planning independently, without Gandalf's help. He feared failing them. His comrades, his kin. They had risked everything for him to reach their home, to end their exile. If he failed them, he would lose all honour, all respect and they would not follow such a dwarf. Balin walked closely behind Thorin. He knew his prince well enough that he could tell when something was bothering him. Thorin had not given an order for about an hour and Balin noticed the way he would pause at every fork in the path. Balin guessed he was doubting himself. He had led his dwarves into a place full of foes and danger, (though he had no choice otherwise) and was on the brink of making a fatal decision that may their quest, and endanger every one of their lives. However, in other times of doubt, Thorin was known to ask Balin's council. In this matter, he did not. Balin knew that despite the fear for his company, that the desire to reach Erebor was more important and there was no time for discussion.

Night was closing in. They had not stopped for food all day, so Bombur was growing increasingly hungry. He opened his pack of rations and found that the nuts, dried berries, bread and cheese that Beorn had supplied them with had vanished. Believing that it was perhaps his mistake (though incredibly unlikes;y- Bombur never went abroad without food in his pack), he asked Bifur in Dwarvish if he could see his rations. Reluctantly, his brother handed him his pack, only for Bombur to find that it too, was empty. A wail escaped his mouth. Had the elvish tricks of the forest deprived them of their food? All the company delved into their packs, frantically searching for the foodstuffs that were not there. Thorin was outraged, flustered at the condition of his men. They could not turn back- orcs lay on their heels. The only option was forward. After the second day, Bombur was in such a state that he had to be carried. Though only having gone without food for a day and a half, he had lost weight. This did nothing to the burden that Fili and Kili (the youngest and strongest) had to carry. After the first day, Kili had grown less frightened. He was not alone in this, and he drew strength from the look of relief that Thorin had given him when he volunteered to drag the makeshift stretcher that Bombur was piled on. He was exhausted by the burden, and the lack of food, which steadied him in his resolve. The dwarves needed him- he could perservere when they could not, due to his youth and strength.

There was no game to be had- no birds, no animals to be seen and that could be hunted for food. They tried to cook several interesting looking mushrooms out of desperation, but despite their hunger, the smell could not be tolerated by any of them to allow for eating. Bombur however, became so delirious with hunger, he stuffed two such creations in his mouth. He immediately turned green, and despite saying he was fine, was clearly addled by the mushrooms. On the third night, all of them now wearing thin from hunger and tireless marching, happened upon an elfish feast. It was Bilbo who first heard singing. Thorin, Dwalin, Oin and Gloin all decided to approach them on four sides but as they stepped into the gathering, the elves vanished, leaving nothing behind. The fourth day had quite a turn. They could not for the lives of them, find the trail. The road they followed led them to a dead end. They spread out in groups to find the trail, but nothing was to be had. The absence of the sun was making them uneasy on top of being hungry and lost. When Fili believe he had found the trail at last, they followed it only to find a similar dead end. "We're going in circles!" an irritated Bilbo exclaimed. He had never been this long without food. However, the other dwarves were not as irate, but subdued. Was it hunger, Bilbo wondered? Or something more nefarious? Thorin was losing hope and becoming more withdrawn. He was in one of his worst nightmares. He was supposed to lead them, not let his kin starve and wander. After all, the dwarves of Erebor had wandered long enough. He was offering them nothing better. When Thorin would have once dismissed his frustration, He now hung his head.

The company began to dawdle. Their minds became addled. Thorin sulked pitifully, and the others were confused to where they were. Bombur was unresponsive. Fili and Kili were at the point where they stared ahead, no cheerful smiles on their faces, not even false ones. No jesting took place. Bofur dropped his satchel and picked it up, fascinated. "There are dwarves nearby! Dwarves from the blue mountains!" Dori and Ori looked at it with interest, then around, trying to find the elusive Dwarves the satchel belonged to. Though Bilbo himself knew that he was losing it as well, He told Bilbo, who followed him, that the dwarves were losing their minds. Bilbo nodded in agreement. "Bofur- that satchel is yours." Bofur looked at Bilbo with unfocused eyes, confused." Several of the dwarves shouted hysterically that they were so lost, they didn't even know where they were. Ori, staring at the canopy above, said "we are lost." An idea of clarity hit Bilbo. To find the path, they must find the sun. "I'll find the sun!" he shouted to his companions as he started climbing the nearest tree. As he reached the top, he pushed aside the dead leaves and poked his head through the canopy. The sun dazzled him and he left a fog lifted from his mind. He saw in the distance, a body of water he knew to be the city of Dale, Lake-town. Little past that, he saw the solitary peak that was the Lonely Mountain. He smiled, and laughed. And as he laughed, beautiful, large bright blue butterflies flew about him. He descended the tree and shouted to his companions below him that he knew where to go. But they were nowhere in sight.

His stomach dropped as he turned to see a gigantic spider coming right at him. Having no time to grab his sword, he jumped from the tree. Large silken threads the width of his finger caught him as he fell. As he tried to roll off and avoid yet another oncoming arachnid, he was stopped- the threads were very sticky. He was caught in a spider web. He drew his sword, but another spider came from behind him. He felt a stab of pain in his shoulder blade, then nothing.

When Bilbo came to, he saw nothing but whiteness. He had his sword clutched to his chest, the blade inches from his face. He heard a rustle from above him come nearer and nearer. Before he could think, he stabbed his dagger through the web encasing him into the body of his attacker. The spider shrieked, and plummeted to the forest floor below. His right shoulder protested, sore from the sting of paralyzing venom from the unlucky spider. He quickly tore off the webbing with the help of his blade and gathered himself. There were spiders everywhere in the surrounding trees only few noticing him, having been alerted by the scream of Bilbo's latest kill. He only had seconds to flee, when he saw a dozen or so white bundles swinging from branches, he knew exactly what had happened to his friends. As the spiders converged upon him, Bilbo became filled with vengeful resolve. He reached into his pocket, found the small circle of gold and slipped it on.

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	3. Chapter 3

Bilbo hacked at the spiders' legs, and was shocked to find that he now could somehow understand their speech. "Agh! It stings!" as the last one fell, Bilbo slipped his ring off and smote the last one with a grin and a sword stroke. "Sting! That is a good name for it!" he gazed fondly at the blade of his elvish dagger, now coated with thin spider blood and goo. The other spiders had heard the fall of their kin and were scrambling around, trying to find Bilbo. The hobbit slipped his magic ring on his finger once more and got to work, cutting down the white shapes he knew to be the bodies of his stunned companions. The spiders were afraid and outraged. Who dared to deprive them of their prey and their lives?

Bombur woke to find himself encased in some sort of tight thick white webbing and suddenly remembered being grabbed from his comfortable stretcher by gigantic spiders. He began to scream. Bilbo had not yet gotten to him, so the spiders were resolved to eat at least this large fat dwarf if they could. He wriggled as he felt strong thin legs pick him up/ he could make out dark shapes through the webbing and shrieked. Trolls, now this! Bilbo got to the spiders just in time to remove their prey from them. He hacked at the spider who held Bombur and once he had been dispatched with a curse and a shriek, Bilbo made short work of the strands of webbing that held him in place. Bombur quickly fell to the forest floor, confused at his sudden deliverance. Bilbo grinned at his triumph, tossing his ring up and catching it in his palm in cavalier joy. Thirteen dwarves were now exiting their spider traps and gathering on the ground below. They were safe. Suddenly Bilbo heard a nefarious clicking noise behind him. Another spider. As he spun around, he avoided the stinger, but was knocked off his branch by the blow. He fell down, hitting web and branch alike but only noticed one thing- the loss of grip on his ring. Before he hit the ground, he felt panic grip him tight.

Kili was freeing himself from the web that held him, somewhat dazed and very sore from the spider sting he had suffered on his chest. He had freed his upper body and was working on his legs when he was pulled forward. He looked up and saw a gigantic spider crawling quickly toward him. He shouted for help as he furiously tried to wriggle out of his entrapment. No one came. The spiders pincers closed upon his foot, pulling him away from his companions. Suddenly though, his attacker was thrown backward. A green fletched arrow protruded from his belly. Kili turned to see a beautiful, lithe elf maiden hacking her way through surrounding spider that Kili quickly realized were going to help his attacker in dispatching him. He turned to see another few spiders coming toward him. "Toss me your knife!" he shouted in the common tongue to the elf. Her face turned toward him as her last sword stroke fell through the spider behind her. She then threw two daggers simultaneously past Kili's head into the bodies of the two spiders. "And why would I do that?" she replied in a smooth, rich voice. She smiled. Kili was struck by her friendly countenance. Immediately he knew the tales of Mirkwood elves to be at least half- false. She was no enemy. "Thank you, for saving my life." He told her as she cut the bonds on his legs. She only smiled at him, her long dark red hair swinging as she cut.

The other dwarves freed themselves, only to realize they were completely surrounded by elves. The leader of them, a tall elf with silver blond hair dressed in fine armour that resembled leaves layered upon his shoulders barked orders to his kin in elvish. He then addressed Thorin, who was curing himself yet again for the turn of events. "You are to come with us," the elf said coldly. The dwarves freed themselves with some aid of the elves. Gloin was most unhappy because since he was stung in his belly, he couldn't very well get up to free himself, which required aid from the elves. He cursed under his breath in dwarvish.

As the dwarves were led away to the elf- king's palace, Bilbo was frantically searching for his ring. He dismissed his hunger to find it with desire to survive. He would need that ring to survive to live through what danger lay ahead. Suddenly, he noticed a gleam several meters from him. His ring! As he rushed forward to collect his possession, a pale shape emerged from the ditch behind it. A sickly, mangled creature that Bilbo could only guess to be a deformed spider. It appeared blind, it was not alerted to the hobbits presence. Nonetheless, Bilbo was still, watching the creature hobble toward his ring. As his first leg brushed the gold of the ring, a rage filled Bilbo that he had never felt before. He leapt to the spider and began hacking at the creature furiously, meaninglessly, and ferociously. After several minutes, the only movement coming from one of the dispatched legs, nerveless twitching, Bilbo picked up his prize. "It's mine." He remarked to the twitching leg. Immediately awareness surged through him. He was covered in translucent fluid that could only be the creature's blood. The creature that had posed absolutely no danger to Bilbo. Bilbo was stunned. He acted completely without thought or compassion. He had slaughtered the poor creature with brutality, a trait he had never had reason to act with. He was frightened. He had completely lost his head in the desire to regain his ring. The ring that was so precious to him. He looked down at the golden circlet and was horrified. What about this _thing_ had urged him to act so. It certainly wasn't the desire to protect his life- he could have killed that spider in one stroke. Instead, he had pulverized the beast, proving that he alone could _touch_ the ring. It had a hold on Bilbo's heart, his soul, his actions. Bilbo clamped his hand over his face, horrified. There was something so wrong with this. But as soon as the thought crossed his mind to cast the ring far from him and leave it there, it was gone. He placed the ring gingerly back into his pocket. He would merely have to wear the ring less.

As he ran to the place he had let the dwarves fall, there was nothing. He looked around, seeing nothing. Quickly he shut his eyes and listened. He could hear the dwarves grumbling about in the distance. He slipped the ring on out of necessity, feeling a twinge of disgust, and padded quietly in the direction of the voices.

The dwarves reached the elven hall. It was a magnificent fortress, supported by ethereal graceful trees that twirled to the sky. The trees here were green and lush, a hint of what the entirety of the forest once was. They were led across a great stone bridge which stretched over a large, crystal clear river. Some contemplated jumping in, but figured since they could not swim very well, it may not be a long enjoyed escape. The doors to the hall were magnificently carved, a honey colored wood depicting a lavish forest scene between two beautiful elven figures. As the doors shut behind them, the invisible hobbit ran to make it into the doorway. The door closed a hair 's breadth behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

Kili was led to his cell by the red-haired elf who rescued him from the spiders. She was a couple inches taller than him, she was short for an elf, he, tall for a dwarf. As she shut the door behind him, he noticed that fili and ori, who were nearby were being patted down for weapons. Kili was amused at the expression of surprise on the face of the elf who was searching Fili, finding more weapons than he expected. Fili always had a talent for concealment, ever since they were little. Kili looked at his elf. "Aren't you going to search me? There could be anything hidden in my trousers." He didn't mean to say it, but as usual with everything addressed to a female, it came out anyway. She grinned. "Or nothing." He hid his smirk as she walked away. He liked her.

Gloin was handles roughly by the blonde elf, and thrust into a prison unceremoniously. The elf searched him for weapons, finding a few knives, a hatchet and his locket. The elf opened the locket, mockingly. "What is this creature?" he asked, pointing at Gloin's beloved wife, dressed in her finest robes and her lovely golden beard trimmed, framing her fine features. "That's my wife!" Gloin shouted, outraged. "And this troll?" pointing to a young dwarf, already growing his dark red beard, a fact that Gloin was so proud of. "That's me son, Gimli!" Gloin retorted. Such ill manners, he remarked to himself. The elf laughed and handed the locket back to Gloin. He smirked and walked away, his gait disgustingly fluid. Gloin glared after him for a moment, and then gently tucked the treasure back into his tunic, next to his breast.

Bilbo found his way to the dungeons and hid as he watched the dwarves being locked away. They were soon thereafter given food, roast meats and breads that made Bilbo's mouth water. At least the elves were hospitable, even giving meat, a dish that they themselves did not partake, to their prisoners. Though the dwarves grumbled that it was not enough, etc. Bilbo knew that they were somewhat grateful. He must find the kitchens later, Bilbo told himself. He then noticed Thorin was not among them. He overheard the blonde elf speaking to another. "Where is the leader of the filth Legolas?" The blonde one, apparently called Legolas replied, "Thorin Oakenshield has been taken to my father, as he commanded. He is being questioned for what purpose brought him here." Though he didn't know elvish very well, Bilbo understood every word. He was puzzled. Were they using the common tongue? Why would they, in their realm? Then he remembered how he could hear the spiders speaking after he had put the ring on in the forest. _Perhaps the ring could do more than merely turn one invisible._ The thought excited and terrified him. _What else could it do?_

Bilbo made it to the throne room after a few hours. The palace was a series of intricate tunnels carved into the earth. He had been puzzled at first, wondering why elves would live underground. He had thought that only Dwarves did so. Then he thought that perhaps, even though they were different in so many aspects, they were similar also. They had a love of song, food, drink. Though of course, the dwarves were more passionate and crude and the elves were more elegant and learned. They both were ridiculously stubborn, Bilbo thought to himself, laughing. And these elves even lived underground! It was fascinating how such traits, even the similarities, pushed the two races apart. Perhaps they could be friends, allies in another time.

The first thing Bilbo noticed when he arrived in the throne room was a star. It danced on the hand of an elf. As Bilbo drew his gaze from the star to the rest of the elf, he realized how very tall he was. Thin, lithe, a sheet of silver blonde hair hung from his widow's peak brow to his back, broken only by a magnificent crown of thin branches curled above his delicate pointed ears. Though Bilbo had never been attracted to a male of any kind, he had to admit that Thranduil, King of the Woodland Realm, was beautiful. Thorin stood, a grimy figure, dwarfed by this elven giant, though Thorin was the tallest of the company at nearly 5 foot tall. Thorin was still cursing himself for allowing his company to be placed in such a state. Captured by elves, of all things. It was disgraceful, and Thorin could blame no one but himself. How would they ever get to Erebor in time? Thranduil addressed him. "Thorin Oakenshield. For what cause have you to come into my wood and attack my elves? I assume you are trying to regain your land." Thorin was angered. "Attack your elves? We did no such thing!" "But didn't you?" Thranduil responded in his dark silken voice. It ws a cold voice, bereft of feeling. "Two nights ago, as they were feasting?" Thorin remembered. "We were starving. We lost our supplies. We meant no harm. We only sought aid!" Thranduil nodded, his eyes closed. "Your kin are being fed now. I have no quarrel with you, dwarf. I only offer you my help in reclaiming your homeland." Thorin was puzzled. Had he heard correctly? Thranduil continued. "I would help you reclaim what you believe will bestow upon you the right to rule. The Arkenstone. And I will do it. On one condition. As you may have remembered, I have a fondness for white gems." Thorin was angered. He was tempted by this offer. Thranduil would let his company and him free, aid him, but enslave him to his bidding forever. "No." Thranduil's mood quickly changed from calm to furious. "So be it." He then gestured for Thorin to be taken to the dungeon.

Bilbo shook his head, exasperated. How could Thorin be so stubborn? The responsibility of escape now rested on the hobbit's shoulders.

"What is your name?" Kili asked the red haired dwarf when he spotted her lurking nearby. "Why should I tell you?" She replied. Kili was taken aback. He had thought perhaps she could be befriended. She was curious- why else would she have returned? She saw the look on his face and laughed. Kili was relieved. "Give me your name, dwarf, and I'll tell you mine." Kili smiled. "Kili, son of Dis." She nodded. "My name is Tauriel." "Tauriel." Kili tested out the name. It was a fine name for an elf.

Legolas Greenleaf stood nearby listening to the conversation. He never could understand Tauriel. She made her way up the steps and saw him immediately. "Tauriel? A dwarf?" She was defensive. "He's tall. For a dwarf. And not ugly." Legolas raised his eyebrows at her. She looked down and walked on, ignoring him.

Bilbo made his way to the kitchens, sneaking a roll of finely baked elvish bread. It was, as he had expected, delicious. It tasted different from the food in Rivendell, but a good kind of different. There was a musky flavor to it. Walnut? He dismissed his curiousity and continued to filch what he could. He found the wine cellar not too far from the kitchens. He knew elvish wine to be very strong. It took a lot of regular ale to make an elf drunk, but only a little elvish wine. And apparently this brew was fine because there were several elves slumped upon the testing table, elegant glasses grasped loosely in their hands. Bilbo laughed. He noticed that the empty barrels were stacked on a wooden plank, segmented as a cellar door would be in the floor. He stuck around, to see more workers arrive and pull a lever, which tilted the door, allowing the barrels to roll out of sight. Bilbo heard a splash. The barrels were recycled- dropped downriver for reuse. He heard talk amongst the elves of a feast coming up, and figured that this could be promising for their escape.


End file.
