It had been such a long time since she had been able to bathe. Something so simple and peaceful to her had been a luxury to her on the journey, unless of course she wanted to go jump into a freezing cold river. Rivendell had been equipped with fine baths, made of fine white stone and filled with crystal clear, steaming water. Mirkwood was nowhere near as fancy, but it could not be called bad either. The royal baths were large, and the water was warm. There was soap provided, a hard kind that smelled of a mix of various herbs. It was rough against her skin, but that only made her wash herself faster. Ever since she had left Erebor with Gandalf, she had gotten herself covered in dirt. It was like she had a magnet attached to her, attracting it to herself.
Once she finished with that, she pulled herself underwater and began to comb her hair with her fingers. The long brown hair surrounded her, floating upwards. In that moment, all that mattered was getting herself clean. There was no journey, no dwarves, not even an upcoming dinner. All that there was were Bilbo's fingers and the dried mud floating out of her hair.
Frankly, it was disgusting of it. That and the lack of air made her leave the water. Once at the surface, she took long, quick breaths, as if though the world would run out of air.
Bilbo was too busy focusing on breathing to notice the woman standing near the entrance.
"Ahem," a voice said.
"Oh, hello, Miss Tauriel."
The woman snorted. "Are you done yet?"
"There are other baths available!"
"These are not for me," she said. All the same, she took off her clothing and laid them on the ground. She did keep her quiver of arrows and bow with her however, placing them on the edge of the tub. She turned on the water. Her long hair fell over her breasts, though Bilbo could make out the faintest hint of her nipples. "If you are concerned with modesty, then I would suggest that you leave soon. My comrade, Legolas, has expressed desire for wishing to bathe as well." Tauriel moved with efficiency, bothered by Bilbo's eyes. The elf woman's eyes met her own, and she quickly looked away. Oh, how rude she must have looked!
Bilbo turned red. "I understand." She had never moved faster then when she left the bath. Picking up her clothes off of the floor, she cursed herself for taking so long. Already, the woman looked half done, and water had not even completely filled the tub.
"I must be going," Bilbo said. "My apologies."
Tauriel's only response was a grunt.
At that moment, Bilbo wished that she had her ring on her. All the way out the room, she could feel Tauriel's eyes on her. She must have looked ridiculous, running out sopping wet and uncovered. At least her room was close.
"Oh Yavanna," she whispered, "would you be so kind as to make her forget what she just saw?"
Back in her room, Bilbo had used a spare blanket as a towel. It was not the best way to dry, but it got the job done. Once her clothes were back on, she did her best to fix her hair. If something happened, Gandalf would not be able to help her.
Everything now rested solely in her hands.
Luckily, Tauriel seemed to not notice her at the dinner table. She sat next to Legolas, her bow still on her back. The food was untouched, though the servants were pouring wine.
A fine table it was, covered in foods that Bilbo had never seen before. It was a feast fit for a meeting of kings. Thranduil had certainly overdone himself. There was hardly even anyone at the tables, save the king, his son, Tauriel, and a small scattering of elves. It did not take her long to spot where she would be sitting; it had a few extra cushions on top of it, and a small footstool next to it. Bilbo would have said that she was not as small as they thought, but stopped herself. Before her was a whole collection of food, a feast that even hobbits would probably never know. Complaining in front of the very king who allowed her inside of his realm would be far from courteous.
On the walls hung a collection of antlers. Bilbo searched her mind for compliments, some small way to thank him for what he had done. Or maybe she could say something about the robe he wore.
Her stomach grumbled. Then again, she could always compliment the food.
"I am pleased to see you have arrived, mistress hobbit." Thranduil raised his glass. "Would you care for a glass?"
Bilbo nodded. "The same to you, Your Majesty. And a cup of wine sounds delightful." She could only see herself drinking one glass. Who would that hurt? "May I ask what it is made of? I have tasted red wine before, but never have I smelled anything quite like this. Are they even made with grapes?"
Thranduil smiled. "Yes, we do use grapes, though that is not our main crop. What we can grow, we do. Pomegranates and cherries are grown as well, and both get mixed in with our wine."
A servant poured a glass for her.
"Thank you," she said, then took a long sip. Yes, she could definitely taste something that was surely not grapes. This was certainly different from what was back home in the Shire. To think that she had considered the stuff at home hard! Already, her head was swimming. "Oh, this is delicious. It tastes different, but delicious."
"I would expect it to taste different." He took a sip, his eyes never leaving her. "The men of Lake Town are still eager to purchase it." He placed down his glass, and began to tap his fingers against the edge of the table. "Go on and eat. This dinner is all but begging to be consumed."
Oh, and he could not have been more correct. There were meats of all kinds, and various fruits and vegetables. Bread of all colors sat before her, some covered in seeds. Delectable dipping sauces were placed in small bowls around the table. The clean plates in front of her were soon filled to the brim. First, Bilbo packed on what she wished to eat and what she knew the food was, then went back and got adventurous. She selected exotic new elven dishes, food that she had never so much as imagined to her. It was a mystery waiting for her.
The elves, in turn, did the same. Tauriel had grabbed some meat and was digging in rather improperly. No Rivendell elf would have gotten food on her chin. Legolas also seemed to not be so proper. He ate with large bites, digging through his food. If Thranduil minded, he did not show it. He himself ate a rather strange pace. One moment, he was eating small bites repeatedly, as if he wanted to make the food last as long as possible. Other times, he was scarfing down food in two or three large bites.
The meat, what she guessed to be venison, was well cooked. Whoever had made it had known what they were doing. She piled on seconds and thirds. Once she had taken her fill of recognizable food, she finally took a taste of the strange food that the king had provided her. It opened a hole in her stomach, and she was quickly eating even more.
Thranduil chuckled. "Is the rumored great hunger of hobbits true, then?"
"Have you tasted any of this? My question is this: How do other races not eat as much as my folk?"
She licked her fingers when she finished, taking every bit that she could. A few of the elves eyes were on her, seeming shocked at what she was doing. A rush of excitement ran through her. A servant walked past, and Bilbo motioned to her. "Could you please bring out more?"
More food was brought out, and new, clean plates as well. Her wine was refilled, though she had hardly drank any. It was filled nearly to the brim, and just the slightest movement made the blood red liquid shake.
"Would you tell me what it is that I am eating? This is wonderful!"
Thranduil smiled. "Many of these are native dishes of my people. I grew up eating these, all of it made from what our forest could provide. This may not seem like a farming area, but we figured out ways to still make food such as this. What you are eating at the moment is a mixture of nuts and grains. The pudding that you just ate a short while ago was actually an old recipe that has been passed down for some time." He continued to prattle on, listing off the facts about the food. Bilbo joined in, the two sharing facts of what they knew on food. There was a light in the king's eyes as he spoke, weaving the history of Mirkwood with the facts on their food. While he spoke, his fingers did not even touch the edge of his glass of wine. No one else tried to join or interrupt the conversation.
The longer that the dinner went, the more food that was brought out. Once the two had finished speaking of food, the conversation drifting before finally breaking apart altogether, Thranduil began to speak in elvish with his son and Tauriel. A few of the other elves joined in. Bilbo had studied the Rivendell style elvish tongue, but the Mirkwood one was a completely different dialect. She could make a few words here and there, but when pieced together none of the words made any sense. All she could do was follow along the elves' faces.
Thranduil's frown had returned, as had his hand to his glass of wine. Legolas was grave faced, but he spoke the least. The others at the table looked pale.
Then, Tauriel yelled. Bilbo put her hands to her ears to block the noise, and a few others did as well. The sound echoed throughout the hall. What little that Bilbo could make out was "how", "unable", and "ridiculous".
Bilbo swallowed the lump in her throat. The elf maiden's eyes had met hers, her gaze as sharp as the knives that she carried.
Thranduil responded angrily as well, but he kept his tone down. He spoke so quickly that Bilbo could not catch a word that he was saying. Tauriel would turn to Legolas at times and speak to him just barely above a whisper. By now, Bilbo's stomach was turning too much for her to return to her food.
Maybe she should not have consumed so much. With the way the night was going, she did not want to end up seeing her meal again.
Her glass of wine shook on the table. Bilbo tried to focus on the moving liquid, tried to ignore the elves around her. Surely she could not have actually caused this. Could she? Tauriel could have been saying anything to Thranduil. They had gotten out on a bad start, but surely things could be fixed.
Then there was a word that Bilbo clearly understood, only because there was no word for it in elvish. Tauriel said a few words, then said "Arkenstone".
Bilbo looked to Thranduil, then cleared her throat. "Please excuse me, dear king of this realm, but why are you speaking of that stone?"
Tauriel looked over to her. "We are not. We are, however, speaking of something that concerns you."
"What?"
"My king believes that you are in need of a bodyguard. Specifically, he believes that I should guard you."
"What?"
"Tauriel!" Thranduil scowled. "It is your duty to obey me!"
"This is not what I am hired for! I am the captain of the guard, not a hobbit's babysitter! Besides, what does she need a guard for? She stole the Arkenstone."
"Tauriel, she is our guest! We have visitors come from Lake Town all the time to review trade agreements and we always give them bodyguards!"
"You never make me do it! What's next? When Bard comes around will your son have to follow him around?"
"We are not speaking of Legolas!"
"But why make me do something like this and not him? I am only one rank below him!"
"I have my reasons!"
"And what are those?" Tauriel's fists were bone white from clenching them so hard. "I would be delighted to hear them."
"I do not need to tell you! You just need to follow my commands!"
"Thranduil," Bilbo said, "really, I do not need Tauriel around! Neither of us are interested."
"No!" Finally, he was screaming. Even Tauriel had to cover her ears. "Tauriel, you work for me. When you earned the position of captain of the guard, then you assumed whatever duties came with it. If I believe that you need to guard our guest then you will." He turned to Bilbo. "And you, Bilbo Baggins, will follow my orders as well. So long as you stay here, you are under my rule. Do you understand?"
