@partyhcaler / cont. X
Bilbo was very small and the spider was very big. But that was a lucky thing, because Bilbo fit below her easily and pushed Sting up right into her stomach. He had stumbled and fallen, and had rolled right underneath her, as she hunted the elf. And so, through sheer dumb luck - Bilbo seemed to have a lot of that - he had killed the spider and saved the poor elf.
While it was nice to be someones hero and saviour, it was doubly so in the case of an elf. It was no secret that Bilbo loved all elves and that he helped them wherever he could. Often they didn't need his help at all, as they were all quick, strong and nimble. In this case, clearly the spider had managed to sink her fangs into this one at least once, because Bilbo was sure the poor elf was poisoned.
Since Bilbo was no healer but a fantastic cook, he did what he did best and cooked a hearty, creamy soup, that was bound to help the elf back on their feet. "I'm no fighter either," Bilbo assured, shaking his head. "I just happened to point the sharp end of the sword up in the right moment!"
He stirred the bubbling soup in his little copper pot (his travel pot, easy to clean and not easy to dent) and returned the elf's smile. No matter how many elves he met, he was always stunned by their fairness. He enjoyed how the elf's bright hair reflected the warm glow of their camp fire. "How are you feeling? Is this spider venom..lethal? To elves? It would certainly be lethal to a hobbit."