Authors note: I do not own anything to do with The Hobbit or LOTR franchises, everything belongs to Tolkien! am just a poor unemployed fish biologist having some fun. Comments and reviews welcome but please no flames! If you don't like it, don't read it- easy enough right?
Chapter 6: Cold baths
Resting his head on his crossed arms in front of him on the black stone, Bilbo let his body float out behind him lapped by the cool water. It had been so long since he had had a bath that it wouldn't surprise him if the water turned black around him. It was a pool nearly the length of his living room back home, and deep enough in the center that he could fully submerge his head standing on his tippy toes. Slate black stones made easy steps along the edges, while the center was fine sand with the occasional smooth round stone. When he had come across this little spot while mushroom hunting, he couldn't believe his eye and had immediately stripped for a quick soak.
Before, he hadn't been brave enough to leave the sight of the company, fearing all things that went bump in the night. Now he was certain he could bump back, at least enough to keep himself alive. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, a groan slipping from his lips as his broken rib chewed at his side. He was almost grateful he hadn't received a hug when the eagles left the company atop the Carrock this time around.
Safely away from the orcs, Thorin had made a beeline for his nephews, wrapping them tightly in each arm. He had then berated them for their foolishness for close to ten miles as they hiked their way down the rock face and through the plains below. Everyone had been in an uproar, Nori exchanging stories with group on what had occurred over the weeks they had been separated. Both Ori and Dori had clung to their brother's side, while Oin and Gloin had argued loudly about whether it had been two or three mountain giants that they had encountered. Ahead of them Gandalf and Balin had discussed the appearance of Radagast, who had found the party less than a week ago to relay the news of Mirkwood's shadowy state. Bilbo has taken up the rear, blissfully ignored by everyone.
Yes, almost grateful.
Sighing, he listened to the bug songs around him, recalling a time when he would have sold his soul for another of Thorin's hugs. Hells, even a scowl pointed in his direction. In his grief he had bargained and pleaded with the gods, had even taken sting to some of the furniture at Bag End in fits of rage. Now, while he still felt the twinge of longing at the absent opportunity in this timeline, he could only smile knowing he had done what he'd set out to do. The sons of Durin were safe for another day. He must have dozed off, as he awoke to a shiver running down his spine as the night breeze chilled the air. Groggily rubbing his eyes Bilbo looked up to find Thorin kneeling in front of him.
"What are you doing here?" He dropped lower into the pool, not quite sure if he was dreaming.
"I could ask you the same question," Thorin frowned down at the submerged Hobbit, "Balin was busy mending everyone's wounds, so he sent me after you, citing 'the sneaky hobbit needs tending too'. Which begs the question, why are you out here in the dark rather than joining us for dinner?"
"Supper," Bilbo muttered under his breath, then louder, "I needed to bathe, Nori threw me into a basket of fish. I came across this pond when I was foraging and couldn't pass it up."
Thorin grunted, looking past him into the trees before pulling something out from one of his ouches on his belt. "A simple soak won't fix that fish smell, use this." Bilbo raised his open palm up from the water, where Thorin deposited several small crystals.
"What are they?" He eyed the small rocks, noting the way they glinted iridescent in the dusk.
"Soap; minerals that dissolve well in water to create abrasive suds and are similar to lavender in smell. When Kili was small, Fili thought it would be funny to push him into a rotting bog," A small smile lit the king's face at the memory, "No one could stand to be near him, the smell even made my sister sick. I was tasked with bathing the lad; these soaps my mother coveted only grow in stalactites in Erebor and were the one thing I could find that worked to cut the stench."
"They sound precious, I can't use them!" Bilbo pushed himself up from the water, attempting to hand the crystals back to Thorin.
"I trust that they are going to a good cause, as you did have an aroma about you as you pushed me off of that cliff." Thorin coughed into his hand.
Bilbo huffed, spinning around to give the dwarf his back, "Well it's not as if your stubborn arse smells like a basket of roses after having done battle with an entire city of goblins and orcs."
"Aye, we're lucky the bird didn't drop us thinking we were already dead." There was a moment of silence followed by quite shuffling; Bilbo let out a deep sigh, believing that Thorin had headed back to camp. The cannon ball splash soaking him definitely came as a surprise.
"wh- what are you doing?!" He sputtered, whipping his sopping locks from his face while attempting to avert his eyes from Thorin's broad muscled shoulders. This also failed miserably, as the king shook his head like a dog, a wide grin stunning the hobbit into place. Bilbo could feel the heat radiating from the dwarf as he moved closer, coming up to reach for the crystal soaps clutched in his hand.
"I am going to wash," Thorin chuckled, "Have you never bathed with others?"
"Uh-mmm no, I can't say I have. Atleast not since I was a child."
"Well, burglar, you might want to hurry up. Its only going to get colder, and I can say with certainty that you're not smelling any better."
At that Bilbo spun around with a huff and moved away from the smirking king. I might be willing to give up all comforts from home, he thought to himself, but I refuse to smell. Rubbing one of the crystals between his damp hands, he soon worked up a lather that was pleasant to the nose. Sitting on a shallower rock, he began working the suds over his body, keeping his eyes shut firmly. It didn't take long for him to soap and rinse his body, after which he began working the soap into his hair. Leaning forward he dunked his curls into the pond, running his fingers through to untangle any knots.
"Your hair is longer," Bilbos eyes shot up to where Thorin was now sitting next to him, surprised he hadn't heard him move. The blood was washed from his face, some bubbles still caught in his thick black beard. Bilbo froze, his breath caught in his chest as Thorin reached over to twine a curl around his finger. He rubbed his thumb lightly over the lock, feeling its softness before letting it fall back into place.
Turning, Thorin climbed from the bath, presenting Bilbo with an awe-inspiring view of rippling muscles, his back broad with a dusting of black curls. His backside was firm, and Bilbo's eyes were caught on the way the water traced every curve. Old scars zigzagged across his back and legs, shiny white against tan skin. If he had been a poet, he might have written sonnets at the sight.
Bilbo ducked down farther into the pool, grateful for the cold water.
"I wanted to thank you," Thorin's voice rumbled quietly as he pulled on his pants, drawing Bilbo from his heated thoughts. "For saving my nephews. I had my doubts about your abilities, we all did. But you saved two princes of Durin, and for that all of Erebor will be grateful... For myself, you saved two who are nearly sons to me, for which I am indebted to you. That is not something I take lightly."
Gathering his things, he turned to look down at Bilbo one last time before disappearing back towards camp. Bilbo sat in silence, contemplating the possible consequences of what had just transpired and feeling a pull on his aching heart.
Pulling himself out of the water, Bilbo turned to his pile of cloths before letting out a groan, rolling his eyes to the sky at his stupidity. He had been in such a hurry to bathe that he'd forgotten his still fishy clothes. Quickly dunking the articles into the water, he rubbed them gently with the soap rock before rinsing them and ringing them out. Grabbing up a sting and draping the damp clothing over his arm he began the trek back to camp.
Coming up to the camp, he could hear laughter and merriment as they recounted stories of when Fili, Kili, and Ori were small. Gloin joined in with tales of his son Gimli, and pretty soon everyone was holding their sides in mirth. Bilbo smiled at the scene they made, before tiptoeing around to the closest bush to Bofur.
"Psss…Pssssss!"
Bofur turned to find the naked hobbit, waving to him from behind a bush, and busted out into heaving laughter. Bilbo closed his eyes and prayed for patients before stepping from the shadows, clutching his cloths to cover his modesty.
"Oi, the mighty warrior has returned!"
"He looks like he's shed all his baby fat, that's for sure!" Dori pinched the skin at his side causing him to jump. Several of the others joined in with mirthful jabs.
"Thank you, thank you; now, can I borrow a pair of pants while mine dry?"
"Aye, here you go," Bofur stopped laughing long enough to pull a spare pair from his pack.
Slipping them on quickly, he came to sit on a fallen log beside the fire, listening to the conversation shift back to funny stories. Balin came to sit beside him, poking at his side.
"I'm afraid there isn't a cure I can offer except time," the dwarf prodded the molted purple flesh, causing a his to escape the hobbit." I'll bind it tightly, which will keep them steady as we travel, but it will be several weeks till they mend."
"I'd appreciate it," He smiled at the elderly dwarf. After wrapping his rib cage in a spare scarf, Ori handed over a plate heaping with food. "That's to much!" Bilbo couldn't remember the last time he'd seen so much food on his plate.
"No, it's the same as everyone else's, you'd better eat it, or it will go to waste." Bofur and Bombur both nodded in agreement. Thanking Ori, Bilbo didn't argue further as he dug into his meal and listened to the chatter around him. As the fire dwindled down to embers, the others found their bedrolls and began the nightly choir of snores.
A question still ate at Bilbo, so instead he made his way over to a rocky outcropping that peaked out over the top of their camp where Dwalin sat as first watch. The large dwarf's only acknowledgement of his presence was a quick nod as he scanned the area for threats.
"Master Dwalin, can I ask you a question?"
"Hmm?"
"Is it normal for dwarves to bathe together?" Dwalin turned to face him, an eyebrow raised at the obviously odd inquiry.
"Aye, it is. Erebor was well known for its lavish bath houses, many would travel far and wide to soak in them. Artisans spent hundreds of years sculpting the cream marble bath tiles, grouted with gold. There were four public baths, three for our males and one for the women and children." Dwalin explained, "The bath water was heated by the smelting of metal below, which turns it into steam in the pipes before it condensates to run into the large pools. Might be too hot for a delicate Hobbit." Bilbo didn't doubt that it might boil him, but it sounded heavenly.
"Thank you for the information," Bilbo smiled at him, turning to head back to camp.
"There is also a private bath, for the royal family." Dwalin called after him, "They always bathe alone."
A week passed with little interruption. Bilbo was glad for it since he knew that the orcs would be on them within the next couple days, and he wasn't sure if he had enough energy to run from them. His anxiety has spiked to an all-time high since the close call in after goblin town. In addition to the nightmares of battles and dying dwarves, he'd been averaging three hours of sleep a night. The company's supplies were dwindling, and everyone had taken to rationing to the bare minimum. He had taken to spending the extra hours of not sleeping foraging to supplement his hobbit metabolism. It wasn't going well. He squatted down, eyeing a clump of mushrooms just out of reach under a fallen tree. The woods were quiet and dark, and the chill of autumn just beginning to touch the land. Sadly, much of the berries and fruits of the forest had already been eaten by wildlife or gone to rot.
"Did you lose something?"
" Maybe a little bit of my sanity?" Bilbo sighed, looking up to find Thorin leaning against the log. How this burly dwarf continued to sneak up on him was still a mystery, but he wondered if maybe he wasn't paying enough attention to his surroundings.
"I think you may have left that in the shire." Thorin smirked a half smile that caused a funny feeling in the pit of Bilbo's stomach. He tried to squash it, rising to dust off the leaf litter on his knees. Dinner had been tense, Gandalf bringing up the possible- and more than likely- conflict between the company and the other races. Bilbo had sat back, his heart racing and adrenaline kicking through his system as flashbacks ran rampant through his thoughts with images of five armies, dwarves, elves, and man against the orcs of Dol Guldur and Gundabad. Rivers of blood.
Thorn and Gandalf had each stormed off in different directions leaving the rest of the company to ready for bed, leaving Bilbo to his thoughts. He believed if he could only talk some sense into Thorin that maybe there wouldn't have to be a conflict like there had been, that he could keep him from getting gold sickness. Now was a good time as any to discuss it with the King.
"What will you do? If the other races march on Erebor?" Bilbo took a deep breath, trying to remain in the present.
"We will go to war," Thorin frowned, obviously not expecting the turn in the conversation, as he crossed his arms over his broad chest, "we will keep what is ours."
"Even if it costs you the lives of this company?"
"To not would cost us everything our people, my forefathers, have worked for."
"You do not wish to make the mistakes of your forefathers."
"How dare you presume to know my wishes." He looks turned to steel as the spark of anger lit behind his eyes. How dare this Hobbit question him, the thoughts read clearly on his face.
"I can see how much you love your nephews, how your eyes follow them like a guard dog. I see how you care for the others, offering them food and shelter before yourself." Bilbo swallowed, but urged the words from his lips, "I can see you are a good person, a good leader, and yet you would sacrifice it all for cold stone?"
"And you? You treat this mission like a picnic, while the well fare of my people hangs in the balance! It's not cold stone, it's every beating heart that mourns the loss of their home. I doubt you have ever loved anything in your entire life enough to have mourned its loss the way we do." At that he watched the hobbit's face turn white, his body stilling as the jagged words washed over him. Bilbo took one step, then two. his body moving of its own accord. Thorin's head whipped back, Bilbo landing a punch to his lip.
"Yes, because I, with my nice things and big house. I have never suffered? I know loss, and while it may not have been something as big or as important as your throne, he was the most important thing to me." While it didn't hurt much, Thorin turned to face the furious hobbit whose voice had not wavered, rubbing his mouth in shock. "You may always hold doubt in my motives, and I don't care. But I will keep this company alive with my dying breath. And that includes it's oaf of a king."
Seething, Bilbo turned, intending to leave the conflict; but not before the howls of Wargs echoed through the forest.