After a few more questions, these more about the events that had taken place before the dwarves and their hobbit reached Mirkwood (and if the hobbit was being honest with his answers, I truly did wonder how they were still living and not really any worse for wear) Thranduil had me escort the hobbit to his own baths while he called for a healer to follow us.
To be honest, it actually surprised me a little that he allowed me to go with him alone; I'd thought he'd end up keeping the little thing as near as possible for a while, at least until he told the hobbit exactly what was happening. He himself still seemed faintly frightened of me, though; I assumed his dwarves had told plenty of horror stories, or perhaps I was just particularly threatening with no intention of being so. I chuckled to myself, shaking my head as we entered the private bathing area, the bath itself already drawn and steaming at Thranduil's order.
"Wait for the healer; he'll want to check you over first," I said, going to stand by the door, and he blinked up at me. I realized it was the first time he'd heard me speak and wondered if he thought I'd been unable. He nodded, in any case, shifting from foot to foot and fingering something in his pocket before he looked at me again.
"I'm confused," he said at last, and I tilted my head.
"Why? It's a bit difficult to examine someone's injuries when that someone is submerged in water." He laughed quietly; it was a sweet sound, honeyed and warm, and it was simple to tell that it was often used. I was a little shocked by the noise even still; laughter had been getting harder to come by here, since this place became Mirkwood instead of Greenwood.
"That much I understand, but what's a bit confusing is why I'm being treated so well. After all, I broke into the dungeons, did I not? I was going to set your prisoners free." I laughed myself, then, not entirely sure what to say. Chances were Thranduil had avoided telling him for a reason, and I certainly wasn't about to reveal his secret before he wanted it revealed. Still, I could see an odd sort of determination in the little hobbit's eyes, and I imagined he wouldn't settle until I told him something.
"You broke into the dungeons, yes, and you might've been planning to set them free, but you didn't and I don't see how you could have. We have no real reason to take fault with you." He smiled again, eyes sparkling and looking for all the world like some mischievous spirit from the old tales.
"I found some sort of transport area with barrels big enough for us to ride, and there was a guard there that always slept. I was going down there to get the cell key when you caught me. I've been there since you caught them; I know what halls are empty when. It wouldn't have been hard to get the Company there and out." Clever indeed; the more I heard from him, the more I understood as much, understood the value he likely had to the dwarves he travelled with. The way they'd been acting with him suddenly became far more understandable; of course they'd be gentle with him, no matter their natures, when he held so much worth to their quest. I was about to comment when an alarm sounded throughout the palace, and the pattern of it made me stiffen.
"Be glad your plan failed, hobbit. There are orcs outside, and I imagine they're after your 'Company.'" A little fear sparked on his face, but I expect he knew well enough that neither he nor his dwarves would be given to them, at least not at that precise moment; that he knew that Thranduil didn't break a promise when he made it was probably a good sign, or at least an indication that he didn't believe everything the dwarves told him.
"You aren't going to fight?" he asked a few moments later, and I shook my head.
"My king asked me to look after you." He grinned.
"What could I do?"
"Apparently veil yourself from sight, if what I saw in the dungeons was any indication. Lord Thranduil would rather you not escape, I think." He looked like he was going to say something else, but the healer, someone with a particularly stern face I didn't recognize, arrived on quiet feet and set immediately to removing the hobbit's tattered excuses for clothing and checking over his various injuries.
They weren't as bad as I might've expected; it was mostly bruises, though some were particularly spectacular and done in shades of black and lurid purple. He didn't seem to have any broken bones, though, which was a blessing given how difficult they were to heal, and most of his cuts were superficial, if dirty and having a decent chance of infection. He was quiet as the healer worked, and didn't move beyond flinching a few times when various salves were applied to his bruises to speed their healing and, perhaps, numb the pain they caused in the meantime.
I could faintly hear the soft clattering outside that indicated guards rushing out to face the orcs, along with far louder, unfamiliar voices that I knew well enough signified the dwarves. Bilbo's lips twitched in a smile as they burst in, no weapons between them but for raised fists. They seemed to deflate when they saw that the hobbit was not, in fact, being injured but was instead being tended to as they had been. Oakenshield's eyes remained steely and firm, however, a certain darkness behind them that I expected was rarely absent.
"Bilbo," a few of them breathed, as though they'd thought him surely lost despite having seen him not even an hour before, and the young brothers stepped forward, probably to grab the little thing, only to be stopped by their leader's arm.
"Let him be tended. Obviously our gracious 'host' wants him healthy, and in that at least we shouldn't argue." More level-headed than I would've expected, but then again he hadn't been particularly violent at all in the few times I'd seen him, or at least not any more so than anyone in his situation would be. The hobbit offered them all a smile as the last of the salves were worked into his skin and he was allowed at last to settle into the bath.
"The guard there told me that there were orcs outside, probably looking for us. I suppose being stuck here has at least a few advantages. You all are looking well, by the way; obviously the bath and the healers have done you all wonders." Most of them grinned at that, edging nearer like they feared some sort of reprisal, but I had no desire to fight them so long as they felt the same of me. The hobbit was their friend, after all, and their brother-in-arms, however unorthodox; I wouldn't begrudge them a little time to speak with him.
"They have good medicines," Oakenshield said, at last settling at the rim of the bath. The other twelve dwarves followed suit immediately, as if they'd only been waiting for him to assure it was alright. "The injuries Azog and his Warg gave me hardly even hurt anymore, and the open wounds are almost entirely closed." Bilbo nodded, obviously pleased, and took the small bar of honey soap that had been left for him by whoever Thranduil had ordered to fill the tub. He seemed to take great pleasure in scrubbing the thick, caked layers of dirt from the soles of his feet, all the while keeping up soft, pleasant conversation with his dwarven allies. Honestly I hadn't ever thought dwarves would get along so well with the soft, simple creatures, but obviously hobbits were more adaptable than given credit for, or perhaps dwarves simply fonder than expected of the easy life they represented.
A new clatter eventually told me of the return of the guards, and the easy chatter between them told me that it was likely that none of them had died and injuries were light. Chances were the orcs had been few in number and eager to flee once they realized their targets weren't there. By then they probably assumed them dead, whether by us or by the other beasts that now lurked in our wood; if nothing else we'd managed to make their journey far simpler for them, if ever they managed to continue it.
I didn't pay the dwarves and the hobbit much attention at that point, honestly; they were content enough murmuring amongst themselves, and I didn't expect they'd make their great escape with the hobbit as unclothed and comfortable as he was. Besides, I knew Thranduil would be well on his way; probably he'd have arrived sooner if not for the orc attack. As it stood, he stepped inside quietly, a small set of clothes he'd dug up from somewhere draped over his arm. The dwarves watched him warily as he neared, and I half-expected my lord to be annoyed at their presence, but instead he only nodded at them, as if he expected them to be there and took no real issue with it. Perhaps he was just too focused on the hobbit to pay much attention, I thought, almost shocking myself into a chuckle I knew would be much unappreciated.
"Here; these may be a bit large, but they're better than what you came with. I'll have what I can repaired and dispose of the rest, if you like," he said, voice quiet and hand settling lightly in the hobbit's damp curls. The dwarves watched, eyes wide, as Bilbo's lips tilted up into a faint smile and he nodded.
"Thank you; just let me get a few things from the pockets," he said, stretching over and sliding only one small thing from the pocket of his waistcoat, tucking it immediately away before I had the chance to see what it was. I don't think even Thranduil did; his brow arched faintly, but he didn't question it, perhaps due to the presence of the dwarves.
"I'd like to eat with you tonight if you don't mind it, Bilbo," he said. I thought the dwarves would explode at that, until Bilbo nodded and they seemed to settle, apparently trusting the hobbit's judgment over their own instincts to distrust Thranduil. It was odd, seeing them act so, but Thranduil seemed pleased if nothing else, and that was likely for the best. "Thank you. I shall have my guard bring you to your rooms and fetch you from there myself when dinner is prepared. I'm sure you're quite hungry; ah, and for you dwarves, I'll have the meal brought to your rooms. I'd prefer not have you cause a mess or a spectacle in my dining hall." With that, and one last stroke of the hobbit's hair, he was gone, the hobbit's old clothes in hand. I could almost hear the dwarves grinding their teeth.
"Bastard," at least one of them mumbled, and the hobbit's lips were still quirked up in a faint smile as he leaned nearer to them.
"He seems to like me," he said, voice soft, "And he seems willing to listen when I explain things. Perhaps he'll let us go still." Oakenshield frowned, brows furrowing, and looked almost as if he wanted to protest, though he seemed quickly to realize something.
"Durin's Day is fast approaching," he murmured, and Bilbo nodded.
"I know; I'll do what I can, and you all can help by doing what you're asked to do, at least for now. If you're well-behaved and polite, and if I can convince him to let us go, I think we can still make it." The lot of them stiffened, a little, Oakenshield most of all, but at last, he nodded, reaching out and squeezing the hobbit's shoulder lightly with hands easily large enough to break it.
"Be careful dealing with him, Bilbo. If you have something he desires that you do not wish to give, don't give it for us. He is clever, and good at manipulating situations for himself. I do not wish to see you hurt again for us; I'm sure any of us would say that." The Company behind him nodded, almost completely in sync, and Bilbo smiled, wide and kind.
"I think I'll be alright, Thorin. You don't have to worry so much, you know; I can look after myself." Oakenshield actually laughed, pulling away and rocking to his feet. Again, the other dwarves followed his lead, if not before settling their own quick, reassuring touches to the hobbit's arms and shoulders.
"So you've proven. Still, no matter the skills you've been developing with your letter opener, I do not think it would be enough to let you win in a fight against Thranduil. Look after yourself, for our peace of mind if not your own." Bilbo chuckled and nodded his agreement, not begrudgingly but certainly not entirely seeing the purpose of it.
"I will," he said, and the verbal agreement seemed to be just the thing to make them finish settling and be on their well with one last glare to me. I assumed that this one meant I'd best keep an eye on him as well, else they'd take it out on my hide. As if it mattered; were something to happen to the little thing under my watch, I expected there wouldn't be enough left of me after my king was through for them to have anything to injure. I was still grateful when they left, however; no matter how unnecessary it was, having so many dwarves glaring at me so bitterly was somewhat unnerving, especially given that I could probably only kill half before at least one of them reached me, and less if they managed to find weapons and shields first.
We stayed in silence for a few minutes longer, the hobbit finishing his bath as quickly as he was able, before he scrambled from the tub, dried himself as best as he was able with the small towel also left, and then dressed himself in what Thranduil had left for him.
The new clothes were a bit too large for him, obviously, but he seemed to find them comfortable enough, I assume because the fabric was clean and far softer than what he had had before. I led him to the guest room near Thranduil's quarters, where I assumed my king wanted him, and stood by the door as he scrambled onto the too-large bed. He smiled over at me when he managed it, face a little flushed, and I crossed my arms.
"You are well, then? Do you need anything else?" He shook his head, looking a little confused at the fact that I'd asked, and I nodded. "I suppose I'll see you later, then," I said, not entirely sure why given that I'd just met him and had no reason to be friendly beyond the fact that he was my lord's intended. He was very easy to like, though, no matter the trouble I could foresee him causing here. I shook my head; it was best not to look into it too deeply, I decided, else I'd likely end up as helpless as the dwarves.