Ringspell

Chapter 16.
The bath...

The company stepped back out into the relative brightness of the hallway and turned left, to continue down the seemingly endless passage, towards the Fellowship's lodgings; the guard at the door giving his Prince a nod, as they passed and locking the doors behind them.

The hallway made a sharp right and then turned into a flight of stairs. They began the steep descent to the next level and as they did, Aragorn began to wonder just how far down they were going. He had heard there were dungeons beneath Thranduil's halls and in a distant corner of the Ranger's brain, alarms were sounding; there was no fast way out of this place, no route of escape - if something bad happened down here, there was a good chance that the world on the surface would never hear about it.

Without warning the hallway levelled out and the elegant Prince halted and turned to face them.

"You may sleep in any of the rooms on this level that you wish." He said, in his musical voice.

"Are we the only ones down here?" Sam asked.

"On this level, yes." The Prince replied. "I am afraid the chambers are a good deal smaller than those upstairs." He added, apologetically.

Curious, Aragorn opened the door that was closest to them. Peering inside, he saw that the chamber was less than half the size of his friend's room, and only scantly furnished; a decent sized bed with woollen blankets, a table and some chairs, a large keg, filled with fresh water. The room had a distinctly utilitarian feel and Aragorn suspected the other chambers in the hall would look very much the same.

"Who are these rooms meant for?" He asked.

"Hunters." Legolas answered. "Well, citizens, really." He corrected. "When Mirkwood goes to war, the population are called to the Halls, to protect those that cannot fight and to gather together those that can." The Prince smiled wryly. "It is hard to make war, when you have no idea the whereabouts of your army."

"You have no garrison, here?" Aragorn asked.

"There are several hundred Hunters living on the second level, but they are really just guards." Legolas shrugged. "Our armies wander the forest, like the rest of us, when the realm is at peace. And we have been at peace for a long time, now."

Aragorn nodded, though it seemed somewhat unwise to him, to let your soldiers wander off when the fighting stopped. Then, it occurred to him that feeding people down here would be a logistical nightmare, and with that in mind, he asked Legolas how many rooms there were.

"The halls can support around twenty thousand, for a week or two, while the army gathers. Most then move on, to fight."

Aragorn started violently. Twenty thousand was a significant number of people, particularly if most of them were fighters. Somewhere in his brain, something clicked; Mirkwood would make a powerful ally.

"There are baths at the end of this hallway, which you are welcome to use." Their host said pleasantly. "Unfortunately there is no-one on this level to attend you, so if you need anything you will have to go back upstairs. I will send someone down to see that you are comfortable and fetch you for dinner, in a couple of hours."

Aragorn began to suspect that the Elf had better things to do than stand around chatting with the company, and an irrational part of him became decidedly jealous.

"Dinner! Good! I'm starving." Gimli proclaimed.

Legolas graced the Dwarf with one of his sweet smiles, before excusing himself and heading back up the stairs, to attend to whatever pressing business awaited him.

Left to their own devices, the company stood in the hallway, not quite knowing what to do with themselves. There was little to discuss in the matter of sleeping arrangements; further inspection confirming that the rooms in the hall were, indeed, all the same and so, they decided to make their way down the long passage, to find the baths that Legolas had promised awaited them.

They discovered, on arriving, that when Legolas had said 'baths', he had meant, 'a lake'. At the far end of the hall, past several intersections, lay a large chamber, the floor of which had been hollowed out and filled with water, Aragorn assumed, from the same underground springs that fed the fountain on the first level. It was a remarkable feat of engineering, something Aragorn was becoming accustomed to seeing, in this massive underground complex.

Without doubt, the most interesting thing about the artificial lake, was the temperature of the water. Dipping his hairy toes gingerly into the pool, Pippin happily announced that the water was quite warm.

"It's lovely!" Merry agreed, after further testing and without further hesitation, the company began stripping themselves of their dirty, travel-worn clothes, the prospect of a warm bath more than any of them had hoped for.

They lingered in the bath for quite some time; the hobbits gleefully playing a game of tag in the water, Gimli resting his feet on the edge of the pool and floating, face up, apparently fast asleep. Boromir sat in one of the corners, brooding as he so often had, since their encounter with the Lady Galadriel. At one point, two Elves, dressed in light-green robes entered the chamber and removed the Fellowship's clothing, returning with the items, clean and neatly folded, some time later.

Aragorn noticed none of this. He was thinking, of Legolas.

The young Prince appeared to have breathed a visible sigh of relief, when they had entered the mountain he called home, the mask of reserve he wore slipping thoughtlessly from his face, allowing a flood of emotion to register on the Elfs' exquisite features.

Aragorn had watched, enthralled, as Legolas slipped effortlessly into his role of child-Prince, floating across the polished floors in his bare feet, smiling prettily at the slightest provocation and speaking more in the half-hour they had been there, than he had during the entire trip from Rivendell.

It was a sight that at once pleased and confused Aragorn. He had been told that Legolas was mistreated by his adoptive parent, yet, while he had thought Thranduil's reprimand at the entrance to the halls had been harsh and probably unnecessary, it had not been extreme. Legolas had, after all, taken off for Rivendell, against his father's will.

Whatever the relationship between King and Prince however, it could not be denied that Legolas was happy to be home, and this caused Aragorn to breathe his own relieved sigh. The Ranger had been terribly concerned for his friend, since the incident at Dol Guldur, and his inability to speak to the Elf, alone since that day, had served to double that concern.

Seeing Legolas smile had obliterated his fears for the Elfs' well-being and Aragorn was also quietly hoping, that the change in his friend would relax the interaction between them. He had not forgotten his decision to get to know the young Prince and it seemed the more he did, the more fascinated he was by the beautiful and mysterious creature.

"My Lords."

Slowly, Aragorn opened his eyes and looked in the direction of the soft voice. Two Elven females stood near the entrance to the baths, holding several thick woollen towels and looking expectantly in the Fellowship's direction. Though they said nothing more, Aragorn got the distinct impression they were expecting the company to vacate the premises immediately. Climbing out of the pool, Aragorn took one of the towels offered to him, the rest of the company following suit.

"His majesty invites you to join him for dinner." One of the pretty Elves said, in a tone that turned an invitation into a command. "He awaits you, in the Dining Hall."

"Now?" Boromir asked. The Elf looked at the Man as though he were stupid.

"Yes, now."

To be continued...