For
maeritrae Gimili stroked his beard, considering the bath that had been prepared for him. Behind him, Merry and Pippin - gleefully reunited after the battle - eyed the huge communal bath with similar expressions of doubt. They were all grubby but the bath steamed ominously.
"I don't see a need for this." Gimili declared eventually.
"Then your senses are failing you, Master Dwarf." The voice came from behind him, making all three spin. Legolas, moving with the silent grace of his kin, stepped past them into the bath. "You smell worse than Aragorn did when he came to Helm's Deep!"
"I do not" Gimili thundered back, bristling at the elf's silvery laughter. Merry - who had not seen the new depths of the two's friendship - was starting to look worried but Pippin was starting to giggle.
"Quite true." Legolas' voice echoed back as he waded further into bath. "He was washed somewhat clean in the river."
"Why you-!" Gimili plunged into the hot water, spluttering with indignation. The two hobbits, stifling their amusement at the sight of the dwarf's hair streaming out behind him like a small comet.