"Tonight, you will sleep in peace," Galadriel finished at long last, after recovering from my many interruptions. Have to say, for someone who regularly gets green and electrical-looking, the woman has great composure when being pestered by me. Hehehe, that wouldn't last long, if I had any say in the matter. But, at the current time, I was much more concerned with eating and bathing than I was with pissing the Elf-witch off.

"Thanks for that," I said, mock-saluting Galadriel, who just looked at me like I was an insect. "So, babe, when do we get some chow and a shower-" Legolas promptly leaped forward and clapped a hand over my mouth, blushing furiously, before I could embarrass him further in front of his fellow Elves.

"Please forgive the girl-child, Lady Galadriel," he said. "I'm sure she means no disrespect, she is just very weary from the long journey." I pondered sinking my teeth into his pretty fingers for actually thinking such a lame excuse would work, but thought better of it once I saw that...his excuse HAD worked! Galadriel nodded sympathetically.

"Yes, I suppose I should not hold the child responsible for her actions in hunger and exhaustion. I had forgotten how frail the children of men are." I caught a subtle, collective sigh of relief from the Fellowship. I stifled a giggle. Frail? I'm not frail, lady, I'm just a pain in the ass!

"Thank you, My Lady," Aragorn said, bowing to her, and shooting me a sidelong glance of disapproval. I rolled my eyes, my mouth still covered by a large Elven hand. Obviously, Legolas didn't trust me not to say anything else stupid.

"I shall send someone to tend to her needs shortly," Galadriel informed, as she and Celeborn turned to leave. As soon as they were gone, another, more obvious sigh of relief escaped the boys. Legolas was nearly glaring down at me. I pinched his arm, and he finally took his hand away from my mouth.

"What EXACTLY was the meaning of all that?" Boromir demanded, eyeing me with the utmost loathing.

"What? You heard the woman, I can't be held responsible for my actions, I'm just a frail human child," I replied smugly.

"Do you have any inkling of how badly the situation could have turned out if you had continued?" Aragorn quizzed, obviously trying very hard to speak calmly and rationally.

"Chill out, dude," I advised, waving away his silly logic. "Nothing really bad's happened yet, has it?"

"Not yet," he agreed, "but I fear the future may hold many troubles if-"

"If Legolas tires of being your nursemaid," Boromir finished, earning a snicker from Gimli, and a death look from the pretty prince in question.

"I am no nursemaid," Elfy shot back sulkily, amongst stifled chuckles from Gimli and the Hobbits. This would have, no doubt, been an interesting conversation to stay the whole way through, but at that particular moment the need-tending Elf Galadriel had promised made her appearance. Not for the first time, and definitely not for the last, I wondered how the hell Elves stayed so beautiful constantly. This was one of your typical Lothlorien-variety Elves: long, wavy gold hair, kaleidescopic blue/green/grey eyes, white brocade gown showing off a figure no human could ever attain without plastic surgery. Damn Elves.

"Girl-child?" she called, in the usual whispery, musical Elf voice. "Follow me."

"Okey-dokey," I replied, trotting over to her. I waved to the guys, and this new Elf led me off in another direction. "And you can call me Raven, ya know," I added, "'girl-child' gets old pretty quick."

"Ah, forgive me, Miss Raven," she said, nodding her pretty head. "I am Luinedring (A/N- Hi, Heidi!), handmaiden to the Lady Galadriel."

"Spiffy," I responded. She gave me a questioning look. "It's, uh, a word from my native language," I lied.

"Oh, I see," she said, as she pulled aside a heavy curtain to reveal what was presumably a bathing area (well, why else would there be a big, clear pond in the middle with steam coming off it?) enclosed on all sides by either foliage or said curtain. Purdyfull. I had to commend the Elves: they really did pick the best spots.

"Bathing is gooooooood," I moaned in sheer bliss, a big smile stretching across my face.

"You may give me your clothes to be washed," Luinedring informed, "and I shall bring you some clean clothing to change into after your bath."

"Thanks, you're a doll," I said. She just blinked at me in confusion, then apparently decided it must have been a compliment, because she smiled before politely turning around while I undressed. And man, was I glad to get out of those filthy clothes. I'd never before seen Elf clothing be anything other than perfectly clean and pretty, yet as soon as I was the one wearing it, it was easily as dirty as anything Aragorn or Boromir decked themselves out in. I think maybe Elves naturally repel dirt, that would explain a lot.

"Ah, I'm happy now," I sighed, sinking down to my chin in the warm water. "I think I love you, Luinedring, I really do." Poor thing looked confused again, but made a quicker recovery than she had the last few times.

"Thank you, young Miss," she replied, as she gathered up my clothing (without even looking disgusted by the amount of grime on the ensemble - I was impressed). "I shall return shortly with your-" I missed the last part of that sentence, having fully submerged my head in the water at that point. She was gone by the time I came back up for air.

"Wow, privacy," I remarked to myself, picking up a bottle of Elf shampoo and squeezing a particularly generous amount onto my hair. Oooh, it smelled nice... I made a mental note to sniff Legolas's hair the next chance I got. Hey, maybe the Elves in Mirkwood used different shampoo than the ones in Lothlorien. It'd almost be a scientific endeavor. Almost.

After quite a bit of vigorous scrubbing, I A) finally felt clean, and B) noticed that the water was now almost black. Damn, I didn't realize I'd been THAT skeazy...

"Icky," I commented wisely, climbing out of the pond/bathtub and grabbing a towel to dry off with. "And that, ladies and gentlemen is why I prefer showers." Apparently, Luinedring had returned while I was bathing, because she'd left me a neatly folded, light blue dress on the little table near the towels. Spiffy. I wrapped my towel around myself, and began to carefully comb all the tangles out of my hair. And by the miracle of Elf shampoo, by the time the tangles were out of my damp hair, it dried almost instantly via my fluffing of it, and I went over to the mirror to brush out the fluff-induced messiness. But the sight that met me when I looked into the mirror left me with only one possible action.

I screamed in terror.

And I screamed again. And I kept screaming, until my loving nanny came running in, daggers drawn, and looking very shaken.

"Raven! What's wrong? What happened?" he asked frantically. And then he stared at my head. "Ah...Raven, your hair is-"

"I KNOW!" I wailed miserably. "It's...it's...IT'S BLOND! The stupid Elf shampoo made the dye come out of my hair! Oh, Elfy!" I flying-glomped him, sniffling over the loss of my pretty, black-dyed hair.

"Erm...well...it really is not that bad," he said, petting my head awkwardly. "I mean, you do look very different-"

"I LOOK STUPID!" I cried into his chest. He merely coughed and muttered something unintelligible. Yeah, he thought I looked stupid, too.

"I know what would make you feel better," he said, after he had presumably gotten bored of petting my head as I bemoaned my stupid blond hair. "Come, we shall get you something to eat."

"Okay," I pouted, pulling away from him. I then found, however, that my flying glomp had loosened my towel, and it promptly fell off. And the entire situation was made so much better by the esteemed Prince of Mirkwood blurting helpfully,

"You have very small breasts."

"I HATE YOU!"