Hobbits didn't have hangovers. No really, mainly it was because they didn't drink, but it was also because they had super-fast metabolisms (hello, 7 meals a day) and the drink worked its way out their systems during the night. He woke with a clear head and remembered with unfortunate clarity how his evening had ended. "Dear Lord Baggins, how did you fuck things up so badly before the end of your first night?" He considered staying in his room for the remainder of the day, if only to avoid contact with people who'd met him but quickly decided he would be far too bored.

He dragged himself out of bed, rubbed his face with his hands, had a quick wash and must have rinsed out his mouth (which felt like a small furry animal had crawled in it in the night and used it as a latrine) 7 times. He was in time for second breakfast and made his way down to the kitchens to retrieve it. Most of the higher level dwarrows were sleeping off the alcohol in their respective quarters, luckily, and a few of the more level headed ones were surprised to see him up and about – any who'd seen him would attest to the fact he hadn't exactly been holding back.

This was the first time he'd been to the kitchens since he got here, given the number of meals hobbits ate, that in itself was little short of a miracle, though he had almost completely finished his supply of bread and honey from the market in the men of Laketown. The kitchens were always in operation, even in the darkest hours of the day the ovens were baking goods so they were fresh for the kitchens on the morrow, meats were being smoked and dried, quick meals being whipped up to be delivered to the guards on duty in the graveyard shift. He thought once more of Morden and wondered whether it was his turn to be doing such a shift last night.

The kitchens were being run by a team of 3 at this point in time. They worked lazily as they knew they didn't have to prepare anything major until the feast that night, many of the dwarves had so much to eat they wouldn't eat again until then. The head chef of present was a dwarf with grey streaked black hair with dark eyes and most noticeably when he turned around, Bilbo saw an axe stuck in his head. Bilbo had to blink to make sure he was really seeing what he thought he was and yep, there was no mistaking it. He was glad he was a magician and quick at getting over surprises or once the dwarf noticed him, he may have still been staring.

"Good morning," he said with a smile, "Bilbo Baggins at your service. Balin said I could make use of the kitchens during my stay here, I haven't thus far but decided to make the effort today."

The dwarf barked something in Khuzdul he didn't understand. It sounded harsh like all Khuzdul and Bilbo tilted his head, confused. He barked something else and gestured to his head and he understood, ah, brain damage. He was signing something and Bilbo understood a little, at least, enough to tell him his name and the sign for food.

"Yes, I am hungry," he said, "was hoping for something small before I go exploring."

He barked more things and signed again, Bilbo understood 'meat' and something else that became clear when the dwarf indicated eating it, 'soup.'

"I am afraid my skills at signing leave a little to be desired," Bilbo admitted, "but I would not have us completely unable to interact. Some soup would be perfect."

At this point one of the dwarves became aware of him. "Ah, Bilbo Baggins, it's nice to finally meet you. I see you have met our second in command Bifur."

Now he thought about it, he seemed familiar in a way, not in a way that they'd met but maybe… "Master Bifur, would you be by any chance related to Bofur?"

By Bifur's wild gesticulating, Bilbo did not need a translation to know that this was an affirmative.

"We met at the after party from my first performance; he said he was not meant to be there. We became friends," with certain benefit perhaps, "you have the same hair you know, although he keeps is hidden with a spectacular hat. And your eyes, lovely, so you know."

Bifur barked something else.

The other dwarf said, "he says it's obvious you've met, Bofur mentioned you, you made quite the impression. Bifur also makes toys but Bofur, though younger, has always been better at it."

Bifur made a crude sound and laughed.

The translating dwarf blushed slightly and looked away.

"Whatever it is I guarantee I've heard worse," Bilbo encouraged.

The dwarf swallowed, "he asks if you've… slept together yet."

Bifur made another sound.

"Not the term he used," he muttered.

Bilbo laughed. Bofur had been a little amorous, all over a compliment. "Master Bifur, I don't see how that is any of your business." He grabbed his bowl of soup, took a gulp and turned to the translating dwarf, "master Dwarf, Bilbo Baggins at your service," he bowed, "thank you for your help, would you tell me your name?"

"Lorden."

"Lorden, well met, relating to Morden by any chance?"

"My uncle as a matter of fact. I babysit my cousins quite a bit; they said you showed them a stealing trick. They can't be in here though."

By Yavannah, were they all related to one another in some way? He finished his soup, stealing a few bits from around the kitchen, an apple, a piece of smoked meat and a flask of ale. Bifur kept trying to take it out his hands as he went but Bilbo pushed him away. "Come now, let me grab some elevenses and packed luncheon and I'll be out your hair, I'm going exploring." He also grabbed some nice seeded bread and a small pot of honey probably there to add to some pudding.

"Where does a wee thing like you put it all?" asked one of the other dwarrows.

"In our stomachs Master…?"

"Rildof."

"Master Rildof, where else would be putting it? Us hobbits have 7 meals a day."

"7! There wouldn't be time for anything else."

"Indeed. First breakfast, second breakfast, elevenses, lunch, afternoon tea, dinner and supper. I hope to be finished by afternoon tea; perhaps you will join me for it."

"I should think so Master Baggins."

"None of that now, it's just Bilbo amongst friends." He set off with his food shrunk in his pockets, he'd lost quite a bit of weight on the road and using magic as frequently as he did gave him quite a bit of appetite as it was.

My, now that was absolutely charming. He'd almost given up hope finding something with true beauty in the dwellings of these rock and gem lovers – he stood corrected. The garden was circular and quite large, perhaps the size of Bag End and the grounds. It was also falling to ruin. He could see that it had at one time been loved. Bilbo could see flower beds overrun with weeds and the trees which had ruled over the beauty spot long infested with rot. What a shame. It was not beyond saving however, turning over the flower beds and planting more would be a good start, healing the trees would bring back some birds and voles.

The saving grace of the garden he'd found so unexpectedly was the water feature stood proudly in the centre. It was a simple fountain, perhaps 3 times the size of Bilbo in height and deep enough to swim in – not that it was big enough to cover much distance – should the desire take his fancy. He was tempted to put some fish in it, get some rainbow fish, goldfish, maybe a frog or two, it would make for a delightful hobby. Always one for a green thumb, Bilbo had started to pull up the weeds clogging up the once bountiful flowerbeds before being aware of it.

He was planning what to replace them with, veggies and herbs along with which colours would complement and which would clash before remembering it was not his garden to tamper with. He considered finding Balin and asking him but didn't want him to, now he'd found it, say no. nobody would mind would they? Nobody even knew it was here. He placed his hands on one of the trees, they say plants cannot feel pain, but Bilbo would bet that it knew it was dying. The rot had taken hold but there was a lot Bilbo could do with nature that he had never had the chance (he was glad for that truth be told) to try with the beings of middle Earth.

He let his eyes become hooded as he forced his magic into the pear tree. There wasn't really anything that could go wrong when one healed plants; it wasn't a tragedy if one failed. Getting the rot to recede and the life in the tree to flourish was taxing but he refused to stop until he was certain it would live on its own. He was sweating and out of breath by the time he finished but grinning all the same. By next autumn, it should be a fruit bearer. He turned his attention to the apple tree; it was surviving well by itself, somehow.

Bilbo extended his will to the fountain and summoned a great deal of water into his hands. He held it in place before him before shooting it into the air and watching it fall before catching it and whipping it around it a circle, encasing himself in a bubble and rising himself a foot in the air before dropping, not once losing control. He laughed as he made it take the shape of a unicorn, then a griffin, they the shape of the eagles of Manwe, they would say it was a poor imitation. To finish he splayed his fingers and made it rain down in the garden, giving the plants clinging onto life a much needed drink.

It was nearing lunch time and he turned to head back to the mountain. As he did so, his blood rushed all too suddenly from his head and his vision swam before his eyes. Ah, it would appear he'd overdone it. It was a good thing he wasn't performing tonight. "Oh dear," he muttered before falling back in a dead faint.

He woke to the sensation of something tickling his face. Opening his eyes lazily he saw that it was silvery white hair. He followed it up to the upside down face of an elf leaning over him with a slightly confused and vaguely concerned face. "Hello," he said.

"Hello Master Hobbit," he replied, "are you alright?"

"Yes, I'd say so. Admiring the sky."

"With your eyes closed."

"Indeed."

"What are you doing lying on the ground?"

"Why is your face upside down?"

"Because you're upside down."

"Now don't be ridiculous, a magician is always exactly in the position he intends to be. I'm lying down because you look entirely too short for an elf when I'm standing up, I wouldn't want you to feel inadequate."

"Insolent little whelp."

"Poof tree-shagger."

He crossed his arms, "I'm jealous of all the people who haven't met you."

"If you're going to be a smartass, first you have to be smart. Otherwise you're just an ass."

"Am I getting smart with you? How would you know?"

"Your head is so big you have step into your waistcoats."

"I love you."

"If you're going to be two faced, at least make one of them look pretty."

"There's only one problem with your face, I can see it."

"A sharp tongue is no indication of a sharp mind, you're little, exasperating and still upside down."

"Among many things… your majesty."

Thranduil laughed and helped Bilbo to his feet with one hand. The wold swayed dangerously a little but he found his footing and managed an answering smile. "Well met Bilbo Baggins, you're even smaller and stupider than the last time I saw you."

"And you are more arrogant and girly."

"And just as infuriating."

"Thank you."

"Come here." Thranduil pulled him into a hug in a rare show of affection. "What are you doing here Bilbo Baggins?"

"The same thing I was doing in Greenwood."

"Wizarding."

"Please Thranduil, I am not Gandalf the Galling or in his merry band of misfits, I'm a magician and am therefore magicianing."

"Not a term."

"That you use. What are you doing here?"

Thranduil sighed, "council meeting, happens every 3 years, I am required to attend, this is a special one as the extended royal family is here."

"Who else is here?"

"My son, my captain on the guard."

"You said that with a growl, there was no such aggravation towards Tauriel last time I was there."

He sighed, "I have nothing against her, she has simply fallen in love."

"That is nothing to be angry about surely, are you not happy for her?"

"I would be under normal circumstances but she has given her heart to a dwarf. He seems to have given his to her as well but he will not live past 500 and that is if he grows to be a very old dwarf. Tauriel will fade long before her time once he passes on."

"You are too protective of your people for your own good Thranduil, no wonder you've gone grey." He danced out of his reach as the elven King went to hit him. "If there neighbouring leaders are here then Bard of Laketown is also around and I would share a cup of mead with him before you are all shown to your quarters."

"Are you sure you're ok Bilbo, I did find you passed out."

"Nothing to worry about, I just overdid it I fear."

"Please be careful. This garden does not have too many frequenters as you can probably tell; I find I enjoy the tranquillity."

They made their way back to the main part of the mountain side by side. As they went they saw Thorin Oakenshield also in the entrance hall chatting to the guests. Bilbo made out Dis, Dain and the rest of the royal family. He also spied Dwalin and Balin, a younger dwarf trailing behind them, Ori, he realised after a second glance. Poor boy, he was still pining it would seem. He smiled at the sight of the King's red eyes and slightly dishevelled braids. Unlike hobbits, it would seem dwarrows did have hangovers, and this particular dwarf had a mighty one.

Thorin's eyes flicked to him and Bilbo saw the flicker of a smile before it morphed into a frown. Bilbo supposed he should find a way to apologise to him privately for the throwing up on his shoes… and the passing out in his arms. It would seem he was more annoyed than he'd said so at the time. "I may have embarrassed myself in front of him," Bilbo muttered to the elven King, "it would seem he has not forgiven me for it."

"What happened?"

"He beat me in a drinking contest."

"My little friend, we will certainly be returning to that but do not fear he has not forgiven you for any drunken behaviour, his venomous glances are directly purely at me." He chuckled, "the feud between 2 Kings can go back eons though ours is a simple power struggle and differing of opinions. He seems to think everyone needs to be protected from me. Do not be surprised if he finds excuses to bar me from your presence – with the exceptions of the shows of course, I assume you are part of the evening entertainment."

"Indeed I am, and do not insult me Thranduil, you know that nobody has the power to ban me from seeing my friends or do you forget Legolas' hidden, locked chambers after you had, essentially, grounded him?"

"I think I'm being punished for something, to be forever surrounded by impudent younglings."

"Mr Baggins!" Fili and Kili came rushing over to him. Fili wrapping his arms around Bilbo's shoulders and Kili throwing his arms around Thranduil's waist. The elven King just stood there still as a statue and endured it.

"Is Tauriel here yet?"

"And their love dramas," Bilbo added.