AN: Still don't own anything from The Hobbit or Lord of the Rings…except for a few posters and figures.

So, in the first Hobbit film, there are a few deleted scenes from Rivendell that didn't make it into the final cut. I'm going to include some of those in this chapter, because I thought they were funny.

Please enjoy, and don't forget to review.

Chapter 6: Dwarves:

Gandalf and I reached Lord Elrond's private dining area just as Thorin did. The Dwarf lord seemed surprised by my presence, but he greeted me respectfully with a nod of the head, and a 'my lady' before we were led towards the balcony outside.

"It was kind of you to invite us to dine," Gandalf was saying, my hand still tucked in his elbow. "I'm not really dressed for dinner."

Lord Elrond threw an amused look our way. "You never are," he playfully commented.

I giggled a little, and was rewarded with a wink from Gandalf and a smile from my lord.

At the head table, I was seated to Lord Elrond's left, with Thorin beside me and Gandalf across the table, to Elrond's right. The other Dwarves were already seated, and being served the salad course, which they did not seem to appreciate.

"Where's the meat?" I heard one of them demand.

Oh, dear; I'd forgotten that Dwarves were very fond of meat.

The Elves did have various types of meat, but it was mostly fowl or wild game that was brought in by hunting parties. Lord Elrond had herds of cattle and sheep in the valley, but they were small; he had once told me that he did not wish to foul the valley with the animals' waste and stench, which was why he did not keep pigs here, either. The cattle and sheep were mostly for milk and cheese, or various creams for desserts. Once or twice a week, there was mutton at dinner, but we only had beef on special occasions.

Thus, these past few years, I had mostly been eating duck, chicken, goose, and other types of birds. Venison was also a constant staple, but only at dinner. Rabbit was popular, but unfortunately, I was allergic, and unable to indulge whenever it was served (though the cooks did everything they could to make sure I had plenty to eat whenever it was on the menu).

I didn't know what the cooks had planned for tonight's meal, but I very much hoped the Dwarves liked it and didn't make a scene.

As a plate filled with salad and sliced pickled vegetables was set before me, I noticed the various musicians that were playing around the balcony. When it was just Lord Elrond, Gilraen, Estel and I, there were no musicians; I had a feeling that they were here to soothe the Dwarves' gruff attitudes, but it didn't seem to be working. One of the Dwarves, who seemed hard of hearing, actually stuffed a cloth into his ear horn!

I hid a sigh and began to eat, my ears open to the conversations around me. As I nibbled through my salad, Lord Elrond spoke to Thorin and Gandalf about the Elven swords they had found on their journey. As a courtesy, Lindir handed Thorin's blade to Lord Elrond, so that I did not have to do so, or move out of the way as it was passed across the table.

As I had nothing to contribute to the conversation, I couldn't help but wonder why I had been asked to join the group for dinner. Perhaps it was believed that the Dwarves would be on their best behavior with a female present?

That's when I heard what sounded like a song being started behind me, where the Dwarves sat. Turning, I felt my jaw drop in disbelief as one of them jumped onto the table and began to sing and dance, knocking various bowls, cups, and utensils around or off the tabletop. The Elf musicians stopped abruptly, some staring in shock while others sat stoically, their feelings hidden.

To cover my own expression, I retrieved the napkin from my lap and held it over my mouth. I had never seen Elves look so scandalized, and as the song progressed, I found myself torn between horror, embarrassment, and laughter.

Then the rest of the Dwarves began throwing food at their singer, which caused even Lord Elrond to stare in disbelief. It resembled a food fight, with one target, who did not retaliate.

And I knew that if there was one thing Elves disliked, it was the waste of perfectly good food for no reason.

Finally, the song drew to an end, and in the echoing silence, I turned towards Lord Elrond. "Please excuse me, Sire?" I whispered.

He nodded, and I wasted no time racing to the next room.

Watching the young woman flee, Thorin was torn.

While he had enjoyed his kinsmen's song and was glad for the discomfort of the Elves, he had not wanted to upset the lady. She had been kind to them, never once showing contempt or dislike of them as she saw to their comfort. The last thing he had wanted to see was her to fleeing from a room because of something they had done.

A moment after she'd gone, he caught the sound of laughter…female laughter.

'Is she…laughing at us?' he wondered, feeling anger boil in him.

But there were two ways she could laugh at them; either it was laughter at what she considered the vulgarity of a primitive people…or she was genuinely amused by their antics.

He listened closely, and felt his anger subside. The laughter was full of amusement, not contempt. 'Huh…she could almost be a Dwarf, that one.'

Glancing over at his kin, he saw some of them look ashamed -Bofur especially, as it had been his song that had sent the girl running. The others seemed puzzled, but Dwalin looked more impatient and hungry than anything else. Balin, however, seemed amused and rather cheerful, popping a pickled onion into his mouth as he leaned over to consult his King.

"I hear her laughing," the older Dwarf muttered in their own tongue. "It's a good, jolly sort of laugh, the kind from someone who actually has a sense of humor."

"Almost like a Dwarf lass," Thorin softly replied as he glanced at the doorway.

His eyes then turned towards their hosts. Lord Elrond was also looking at the doorway, expressionless and deep in thought. Did he not approve of her amusement?

A few moments later, the lady returned, a serene look on her face. "Forgive me my abrupt departure, Sire," she apologized, sinking into a curtsy. "I've asked for someone to assist with cleaning the area, and for the meat and soup courses to be brought, in that order. I believe our guests would better appreciate it."

Thorin wondered if the Elf Lord would be angry at the girl's presumptuous actions in regards to his servants, but instead, she only received a nod.

"Thank you, Meluir," Elrond replied. "I believe you are correct in that regard."

It was then that a bevy of Elves descended, swiftly cleaning up the mess Thorin's kin had made, before another wave arrived to serve the next meal course. Three large geese went to the larger table, and were received with cheers from the Dwarves sitting there. Here at the high table, each of them received an individual portion, consisting of a large breast of meat with roasted potatoes and vegetables, all elegantly presented.

The Elf musicians had once again struck up their instruments, but kept the tone soft, blending in with the wind in the trees and the waterfalls in the distance. Thorin's companions were so engrossed in eating and talking with one another that there was no room for anything else on their minds. Even the hobbit was quiet, eating his way through his meal in silence.

Glancing to his right, Thorin watched the lady, Alyssa, eat her food neatly and carefully. Before, she had been a refined lady, distant from him and his kin. Now, for all her grace and manners, he actually felt that she was someone he could speak to informally.

"My lady," he said, turning towards her, "You mentioned that your name is Alyssa, but the Elves bestowed another upon you. Why is that? And why are you here among them, instead of in the lands of Men?"

As she paused in her eating, her face turned thoughtful, the fading sunlight of the day glittering on the gold circlet upon her brow. "I was found by Gandalf the Grey near Rivendell some years ago, alone and injured. I know not how I came to be there, or why. Everything from that day was a mystery to me; and still is."

The gaze she turned towards the Elf Lord was full of affection. "Though he had every right to send me elsewhere, Lord Elrond chose to keep me here as his ward. I have been treated very kindly by him and his people; they have fed, sheltered, protected, and clothed me, even providing me with a fine education I do not think anyone in the lands of Men would give a woman with neither family nor wealth."

When her gaze rested again in Thorin's direction, he saw a faint glimmer of tears in her eyes as she said, "Here I am treated well, like an equal. They have asked for nothing in return, other than for me to try and better myself. This I try to do in every way possible, for I know I can never repay them for their kindness."

"Nor would I ask you to, Meluir," Lord Elrond softly said, reaching out to gently brush her hand. "You have done all that I asked for, and more. I am happy to have you as part of my House."

Thorin was puzzled. "What is that name you called her? What does it mean?"

The lady laughed a little as a slight blush tinted her cheeks. "Meluir is an Elf name that means several things; but it mostly translates to 'loving, kind, or sweet one.' Since I'm so much younger than even the youngest of the Elves here, I believe they find a few of my antics endearingly child-like at times, if only because I sometimes have the behavior of one."

"I find that hard to believe," Thorin objected, stabbing a carrot with a bit more aggression than necessary. Before he could stop himself, he said, "I would actually call you more Dwarf than child."

He had expected her to be offended by his words; certainly Lord Elrond's chief servant seemed to be so. But Alyssa, or Meluir, gave him a genuine smile and calmly replied, "Thank you, Master Thorin. I shall take that as a compliment. Now, will you tell me about your people? I've found very few books on Dwarves in our library, and am curious about your ways of life."

It was the last thing he expected, but he could not help the joy he felt at her choice of conversation. 'I had not thought to encounter someone in Rivendell who would want to know about Dwarves.'

For Thorin, the rest of the meal passed pleasantly. While his comrades ate, drank, and exchanged jests, he found himself speaking of the many things Dwarves mined for in their mountains. Alyssa, as he chose to privately call her, asked about their standards for gemstones, gold, and silver, and wondered at how the styles of the Elves compared to that of the Dwarves.

Thorin was eager to answer all her questions; it had been many years since someone outside his own people had shown interest in their ways. "I regret that I have no jewelry of Dwarf make to show you," he said, "But perhaps, someday, I will."

That was all he would say about his Quest. On the day he took back Erebor and reclaimed his family's throne and their treasures, he would find something suitable amongst it all to send to the Lady of Rivendell.

After all the kindness she had shown him, it was the least he could do.

Once dinner concluded, Gandalf asked to speak with Thorin and Lord Elrond alone. To my surprise, even Lindir was dismissed for the evening.

"You may go as well, Meluir," Lord Elrond subtly commanded in Elvish. "I have asked your tutors to halt your lessons until the Dwarves have left. I would rather you assist in making them welcome during their stay."

I gave him an Elvish bow of respect, then quickly went to join the Dwarves on their trek back to their living quarters. Most seemed a bit uncomfortable having me around, but the youngest two, as well as Bilbo, seemed to find me rather fascinating.

"Bilbo Baggins, at your service, my lady," the hobbit introduced himself, with a polite bow. He briefly explained that he was a hobbit from the Shire, traveling with the Dwarves on their journey.

I was tempted to tell him I already knew who he was, but didn't. Instead, I returned his bow with a curtsy, and declared myself happy to meet him. "Perhaps, you may tell me more about your people, Bilbo," I offered, feeling genuinely thrilled at meeting one of the hobbits I admired so greatly.

The two youngest Dwarves bowed and introduced themselves as Fili and Kili, Thorin's sister's sons. I faintly remembered that Thorin had no wife or children; so, technically, these two were the heirs to Thorin's throne.

All three were eager to pelt me with questions, mostly about who I was, why I was in Rivendell, and what Thorin had talked about over dinner. I answered them as best I could (hiding my true background from them as much as possible), before delivering them to the others so they could have a rest.

I was returning to my rooms when I saw Balin and Thorin approach. Neither Dwarf looked happy, but both seemed to cheer up a little when they saw me.

"Ah, my lady," Balin said with a smile. "I cannot thank you enough for joining us today at dinner. Your laughter at Bofur's antics rather lifted our spirits."

"Well, it was rather amusing," I admitted. "I can honestly say that I haven't had such a good laugh in a long time."

It was true. The Elves were kind, but their sense of humor was quite subtle. Estel was sweet, and some of his antics were funny, but it had been years since I had the chance at a good, solid belly-laugh.

Thorin actually smiled a little. "I am glad we did not scandalize you, Lady Alyssa. I know our ways might seem rough compared to the Elves."

"Oh, please call me Allie," I insisted. "Even the Elves do not call me 'lady' unless they are being formal."

I had grown used to the Elves addressing me by the name they had bestowed; however, I did not want to make the Dwarves uncomfortable by having them address me by a name given to me by a people they disliked.

Balin grinned and tucked his thumbs into his wide belt. "Allie it is, then. Well, I believe some of our group will be roasting some sausages and other vittles tonight. Elf food really isn't filling, by our standards. Will you join us?"

He was somewhat right. Elf cuisine was rather light, almost like the special diets back in my world. When I'd first arrived, I had eaten anywhere from two to three times what the normal Elf consumed; but after a while, my body adjusted and I ate as they did. I sometimes did ask for extra helpings, if I was especially hungry, but mostly I kept extra bread, fruit, and dried meat in my quarters to snack on.

And while the idea of sausages was tempting, dinner had filled me up quite well tonight.

"I thank you for your offer, Balin, but I'm afraid not," I replied. "There should be plenty of wood for you to use for your cooking. I can ask for extra food to be brought to you tomorrow morning, if you'd like? So that you do not drain your provisions?"

The old Dwarf smiled and nodded. "That's very kind of you, lass. We'd appreciate that."

A question nagged at the back of my mind, but I was concerned at how to put it. "Will your stay be long? I wish to let the cooks know, so that they may have enough food prepared for your group during your stay."

The two Dwarves exchanged glances, then shrugged. "It will be some days yet," Thorin guessed. "We could use a small rest before continuing on our journey. A week at most, I think."

I gave them my thanks, and promised to let the kitchens know tomorrow morning, before wishing them a good night.

I rose early, to check on our guests, but found most of them sound asleep. Bilbo seemed to have wandered off, as had Balin and Thorin.

'Oh, I hope they don't cause trouble,' I silently prayed inside my head. I wasn't a religious person, but in a tight pinch, the least religious person tends to give voice to a deep wish or hope.

I, however, kept my hopes/prayers/wishes silent. Why? One detail from my Tolkien college course: prayers said out loud in Middle Earth could easily be heard by the deities here. Apparently the gods could easily 'hear' a prayer, and either make those prayers a reality, or cause the complete opposite of them to happen. So, one should always be careful while making them.

Needless to say, since my arrival, I tended to keep my prayers silent, and as minor as possible.

Thankfully, I was able to find Lindir, who informed me that Bilbo and Balin had been seen walking the halls, but Thorin had been spotted somewhere in the gardens, and that had been some time ago. Worried that he might be lost, I went in search of him.

After nearly an hour, I gave up and settled down on a bench in a small glen near the House. I desperately needed to redo my hair, which had escaped the braid I had put it in, and decided to put it up in a simple ponytail, my fingers combing through my loose tresses as I removed the purple ribbons tied at the end of the tail.

Setting them down in my lap, the ribbons blended perfectly with the purple gown I had chosen for today. With no lessons on my schedule, I had no reason to wear breeches or my more casual outfits. Besides, I also wanted to make a good impression on the Dwarves.

"Allie?" a gruff voice called, catching my attention.

I turned my head. "Oh, Master Thorin!" I exclaimed, feeling embarrassed at being caught with my hair all mussed. "Forgive me; you catch me in a rather awkward moment."

He actually smiled a little and bowed. "No, it is I who must apologize. I'm afraid I am lost, and when I saw you here, I thought you an Elf. I did not know it was you until just now. And you may call me Thorin."

I motioned towards the other end of the bench I was on. "Please, rest yourself a moment. I will be done shortly."

Thorin seated himself and silently watched as I struggled to put my hair back. "You are not wearing the circlet from last night? Does Lord Elrond not give you jewels to wear, if you are his ward? He seems rather fond of you; I imagine he would gift you whatever you desire."

I shrugged. "I do not desire much. While jewelry is lovely, I think it pales in comparison to the kindness and affection he shows towards me. I would rather be poor, loved and happy than alone and unloved, with riches, jewels and gold."

He stared at me in disbelief and shock. I imagine my words went against everything Dwarves stood for -after all, wasn't this particular group going to reclaim their kingdom, a Mountain full of gold and treasure, from a dragon?

"I thought all females loved jewels and pretty things," Thorin blurted out. "Do they not always want some kind of token of affection from us males?"

Again, I shrugged. "I do like looking at pretty things, but I don't think it's a good idea to always get what you want. If you do, there's nothing left for you to dream of; and without dreams and the joy they can bring, a person can become cold and unfeeling."

My fingers finally grasped the last strand of hair at the back of my head. Quickly, I pulled my right one free, and hastily took up one of my hair ribbons, successfully pulling it back into a neat tail.

"I've noticed that the others defer to you the way the Elves defer to Lord Elrond," I casually remarked. "You seem to be a Dwarf of great importance."

Yes, I was trying to gently get the truth of their Quest out of him. If I didn't, I knew I was going to eventually blurt out something I knew from the books or movies. Since I wasn't supposed to know anything about it in the first place, that could lead to a very awkward situation.

For a good moment, Thorin went quiet. I could tell that he was debating whether to tell me the truth; he probably thought I would run and tell Lord Elrond everything I learned.

But in the end, he said, "We are going to reclaim our lost kingdom, Erebor."

After that, he went on further, telling me about the dragon that had killed many of his people, stolen their great treasure, and sent the Dwarves fleeing from their homeland. I heard about the infamous Arkenstone first hand: a great, glittering jewel that seemed to glow from within with the light of the sun, the stars, and the moon.

"Now you go to fight for it…to win it back," I whispered, looking at the trees around us. "It seems a very dangerous endeavor, to reclaim something guarded so closely by something so deadly."

Blue eyes sparked with anger as he stated, "It is my birthright," in a tone full of determination and pride. "My grandfather is dead, and my father either missing or dead. I was Prince then, but I am King now. I must do this, for the future of my people!"

"I do not doubt that," I said, keeping my voice gentle. "It is your right, as you say. You are King. But should you succeed in your Quest, do you think you shall be a good one?"

"And who are you to judge me a good king?" he growled, sneering a little.

There was silence in the small glen. Even the birds had stopped chirping.

"To be a good king, you must have a good heart," I softly told him. "Have you heard the expression 'a heart of gold?' It describes someone as being a good and generous person."

Rising from the bench, I could not keep the sadness from my voice. "I would rather you be a king with a heart of gold and a hall of stone, than be one with a cold, stone heart and a mountain filled with treasure."

As I left him, I remembered several scenes from the film: the first was Thorin staring greedily at the treasure that had driven his grandfather mad, and drawn the attention of a dragon.

The second was of him dying in poor Bilbo's arms, lamenting how people should be satisfied with their hearths, their homes, and their quiet lives.

I wanted to save this noble Dwarf from his fate, but I did not think it was my task to do so. If it was, surely the Valar would have given me some sort of sign?

My heart resting heavily in my chest, I went inside to check on the rest of my guests.

A length of purple ribbons lay on the ground near where she had been sitting.

'Drat the girl!' Thorin silently cursed.

He had wanted to tell her she was wrong, but in truth, he knew she wasn't. Her words were wise, her intentions good, and he had shown anger towards her. She did not deserve that.

'Am I taking my anger at the Elves out on her, because she is their Friend and favorite?'

Ever since the fall of his land, Thorin had nursed his hatred of the Elves. The Elf King, Thranduil, had abandoned them, leaving the Dwarves of Erebor to starve in the ashes left by Smaug. Even if he would not loan them his armies, he could have offered them food and shelter for a few weeks! Though the treasury of the Elven King was nowhere near as vast as the Erebor's, but he was certainly wealthy enough to provide for those who now had only the clothes on their backs!

But Thranduil had done nothing, and Thorin had been forced to struggle to support his people. He never forgave, and he never forgot that.

'And yet, here is a woman living with and being educated by Elves, and though it is none of her concern, all she wishes to do is make sure I will be a good ruler.'

She truly worried for not only Thorin himself, but for his people. What disturbed him most was that she was right: they did deserve a good king. But could he not be a good king, as well as a rich one?

Alyssa might not value gems and gold, but Dwarves were another matter entirely. Their whole lives they worked, crafted, and took pride in all things mined in their mountains. No woman or Elf could ever understand that.

'But that was no reason to snap at the poor girl,' he chided himself.

Looking down at the ribbon, Thorin bent to retrieve it, intending to return it to her when they next met.

But perhaps it had a better purpose. 'I will keep it,' he decided, carefully rolling up the length of fabric and tucking it into his pocket. 'To remind myself of her words, and as a promise to not let the madness that had taken Grandfather consume me as well.'

He owed her that much, at least.

Thorin also vowed that as soon as Erebor was his again, he would invite her to visit him there. He would show her the great caverns, crafted over the course of decades; the fine quarters meant for honored guests; and the magnificent treasures that his people had discovered in the depths of the Mountain.

Then she would understand what he had fought so hard for.

AN: Review?