Prophet (a LOTR fanfic)

Dinner

It was the most painful bath I've ever had.

Eowyn recruited a woman from the village to help her draw water and heat it. Where they got so much water from, I have no idea. I offered to help; the thought of a princess drawing a bath for me was appalling, to say the least. However, she adamantly refused and insisted I rest. She also insisted I not get mud on the blankets. So I ended up lying on the floor. It was pretty nice actually; at least the fire kept me warm.

When the bath was ready I was ordered to strip and get in. The look on her face left little room for negotiation. The water was warm, but not exactly what I had grown used to on earth. Each woman took a cloth or sponge in hand, and began scrubbing my skin pink. When they were satisfied with my skin, or lack thereof, they began to pour water over me, brushing the mud out of my hair and rubbing in sweet oils and perfumes. I was going to smell like the back end of a florist if they kept this up. All I hoped was that the others were getting the same scrubbing down that I was.

When I got out, it looked as though they had boiled me alive. My undergarments had been washed while I was in the bath, so at least I could wear them again, but she refused to wash my pants. I had no other choice but to accept her dress. She also refused to let me bind up my chest again, claiming it was barbaric and a lady had no business compressing herself. Honestly I didn't see the issue. Not having to worry about where my boobs were going was another thing I could happily not worry about.

The dress was a dark grey, wool, long-sleeved and simple. Definitely designed for function rather than fashion. they tied a kind of doublet on top, this one black and trimmed in silver; the ornamental piece. They tied it almost too tightly to my body, like they were tying a corset. A belt went on just under the hem of the doublet, gathering the fabric around my waist and making me look all shapely and womanly. Mercifully, they let me keep my boots, after they had been scrubbed within an inch of their lives too and resoled, of course.

This may be the land of the horse lords, but the horse ladies weren't going to put up with the smell.

All in all, it fit pretty well. I guess I was short for an elf.

They did my hair next, a wholly unnecessary gesture. Eowyn insisted, and at this point, I saw no point in trying to argue with her. I sat for 20 minutes while they braided my hair and pinned it up.

"There," Eowyn sighed as she tugged at the last braid. "The hour is growing late. Come, you and your company are to dine with the king."

That would explain the dressing up.

"And you, my lady?"

"I am to dine with you as well."

I nodded, and followed as she lead me from the room.

................

The king's silence seemed overwhelming in the vast hall.

A long table had been set up, with Theoden at its head and important courtiers arranged down the sides. Smaller tables lined the walls, where some guards ate and drank with the few other members of the court. There was no laughter or drunken arguing, only murmurs. The atmosphere was dark and oppressive.

We were seated next to the king, Gandalf to his immediate left, then Aragorn and I, and Eowyn on his Right, followed by Legolas and Gimli. I looked across the table to where the dwarf shoved food into his mouth at a furious pace, grease and meat scraps mixing in his beard, and my stomach churned. My eyes drifted over to Legolas, who gazed back at me. A smile tugged at his lips at the look of revulsion on my face, and I felt myself smiling back, the dwarf all but forgotten.

I glanced around at the rest of my comrades- all seemed to have been scrubbed and brushed and clothed in fine garments as I had been. Gandalf and Aragorn spoke with each other, and at the king, who had yet to reply to anything they said. Eowyn kept glancing over at Aragorn, then yanking her gaze away again, Legolas seemed to be only looking at me, and Gimli, of course, was Gimli; completely unaware of everything around him. It had to be a dwarf thing. A noble sat to my left, a puny fellow who seemed to have no place among the horse lords.

"You look lovely tonight, lady," he said, shooting me what I'm sure was his most charming smile.

I timidly smiled back and thanked him, and when I turned back, I caught Legolas' icy glare at the man beside me before he turned back to his plate.

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Sorry for the short chapter, but I have another coming right up!

-Cat