Bilbo crept through the prison corridor, bare feet silent on the stone. He had the keys now and his heart was pounding as he moved from cell to cell, searching for the dwarves.
Then he stopped.
One of the cells held a single figure who very much did not belong there.
Luke sat inside, leaning back against the wall, completely at ease. He was eating a slice of cake he'd pulled from his inventory—the leftover from last night—like this was a tavern corner and not an Elven prison.
Bilbo blinked. Then blinked again.
"Aren't you… that guy?" Bilbo whispered, staring at him. "The one from the forest?"
Luke looked up mid-bite, chewing thoughtfully. "Yep. That'd be me."
Bilbo glanced down the corridor, then back at him, baffled. "How did you get caught? What did you even do?"
Luke shrugged, lifting the cake slightly as if considering the question. "Who said I was caught?"
Bilbo stared.
"I just wanted to try the prison cell," Luke continued calmly. "Seemed like a unique experience. So here I am."
Bilbo opened his mouth. Closed it. Tried again.
"…You chose to be imprisoned?"
"Mm-hm," Luke said, taking another bite. "Decent view. Bit drafty."
Bilbo decided, right then and there, that this was officially the strangest person he had met all day—and that was saying something, considering his traveling companions.
"Do you want to get out?" Bilbo whispered, still clutching the keys.
Luke waved a hand lazily from inside the cell. "No need. Go release your companions."
Bilbo hesitated. "Are you… sure?"
"Very," Luke said, already settling back against the bars. "I'll catch up."
Bilbo didn't argue. He turned and hurried down the corridor, heart racing as he reached the row of familiar cells.
The moment the dwarves spotted him, they surged forward, chains rattling.
"Bilbo!" Thorin hissed sharply. "You've come back!"
"Yes, yes, I'm here," Bilbo whispered urgently, fumbling with the keys. "But keep your voices down—there are still guards."
That warning lasted exactly two seconds.
"Bilbo Baggins!" Bombur cried, nearly vibrating with relief. "You brave little—"
"Shh!" Bilbo snapped, jamming the key into the lock. "Do you want us all executed?"
The cell door swung open. One by one, the dwarves spilled out, stretching stiff limbs and muttering under their breath, excitement barely contained.
Thorin gripped Bilbo's shoulder. "You risked everything for us."
"Well… I had help."
From farther down the corridor, Luke's calm voice drifted over.
"Try not to die before I get bored and walk out."
The dwarves froze.
"…Who was that?" Fili asked slowly.
Bilbo swallowed. "Long story."
As the Dwarves slipped away into the tunnels, Luke remained seated inside his cell, back against the cold stone, looking far too relaxed for someone behind bars.
Natasha stood in front of the cell with her arms crossed, Wanda beside her, both watching him like he was deliberately testing their patience.
"How long are you going to play around?" Natasha asked.
"For that, I have an answer," Luke said calmly.
"There's something ironic about growing up. The things we find fascinating in childhood slowly lose their charm as we grow older. In the same way, as you become stronger, the things that once felt special start to become mundane."
He glanced at the iron bars, then back at them.
"So when I get the chance, I choose this," he continued. "Normal moments. Sitting in a cell. No plans. No battles. No expectations. Just being locked up, hungry, uncomfortable. It reminds me what it's like to be ordinary."
Wanda frowned. "That's… your idea of normal?"
Natasha stared at him for a long second, then took a step closer.
"If you're craving a normal life so badly," Natasha said dryly, cracking her knuckles, "come out of the cell. I'll introduce you to it personally—starting with domestic violence."
Her tone made it hard to tell whether she truly understood his point… or was just looking for an excuse to punch him after all the teasing.
Luke smiled, completely unbothered. "See? Authentic."
"Um… Luke," Wanda said, tilting her head slightly, trying to steer things back on track, "didn't you say you came here for wine?"
Luke blinked.
"Oh. Right," he said, snapping his fingers like the memory had just caught up with him. "Good save, Wanda."
He stood, stretched once, then casually reached out and ripped the cell door off its hinges, metal shrieking softly before he set it aside like an inconvenience.
Natasha crossed her arms, watching him with narrowed eyes.
"By the way," she said, tone light but pointed, "what exactly were you talking about with that elf woman earlier?"
Luke glanced back at her. "Her?"
"Yes. Her," Natasha replied. There was just a hint of irritation there—subtle, but real. "You know, the one you were chatting with while not long ago, you said I was your wife."
Wanda nodded slowly beside her. "Yeah… I thought maybe—"
She stopped herself, looking away, the disappointment clear. For a moment, she'd hoped Luke wouldn't immediately get sidetracked by someone else.
Luke noticed. He stopped walking and turned back to them, expression a little more serious than before.
"No," he said simply. "I was just distracting her. Nothing more."
Then he added, more lightly, "And we've got plenty of time to spend together. I'm not going anywhere."
He glanced at Natasha next, a familiar grin returning.
"And my dear wife," he said, giving her an exaggerated wink, "don't worry. I'll make sure you get proper wife treatment."
Natasha snorted. "You're unbelievable."
Luke just smiled and shifted his attention back to Wanda, his tone softening.
"And Wanda—don't worry. By the end of this journey, the three of us are going to have a lot of beautiful memories."
*****
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