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

Chapter 11: Dale:

Gandalf was right; we did arrive at Laketown two days after leaving Mirkwood.

And the place was a complete disaster area.

Granted, I'd never actually been to a disaster area back in my world, but considering Laketown had been torched with dragonfire, then had the carcass of said dragon land on top of it, I would say it certainly qualified.

Though the area had stopped smoking, it looked disturbingly eerie. Burned spires of wood stood straight and silent, like black claws reaching up towards the sky. There was no possible way anyone could live here, not anymore.

"The road to Dale is ahead," Gandalf said, gesturing with his staff. "It will be another half day before we're there. We may stop here for the night, or we can ride onwards."

It was only just after noon; the sun was still high, and we could ride to Dale. But considering Dale had been abandoned when Smaug first arrived decades ago, I rather doubted that there would be anywhere for us to stay. We might not even be welcome, and I didn't want to push our luck by asking someone to 'make space' for two dozen strangers.

I cleared my throat to catch everyone's attention. "Dale is quite close to Erebor, isn't it?" I asked Gandalf, who nodded. "I think we should camp just in sight of Dale, and send a messenger ahead, to let the people and the Dwarves know we are here but staying in our own camp. Tomorrow, we can all clean up, dress in our best, and ride to the town, before going on to Erebor."

Glorfindel thought on it a moment, but nodded his agreement. "It is a good idea. Gandalf, would you ride ahead and let the appropriate people know our plans? You would know who to speak to, and they would know you."

Our wizard friend didn't hesitate; he immediately rode off to do his task, leaving us to set up camp.

We had barely gotten the last tent up when we heard the sound of a horse approaching. Half of my guards immediately went into defensive positions, only dropping their weapons when Gandalf appeared and ordered them to stand down.

"I bring word from Dale and Erebor," he said, looking slightly miffed about something. "It seems the King of Erebor wishes you to arrive today, and the Council of Dale would appreciate you stopping to visit them tomorrow. I told Thorin he could wait one day, after you finish meeting with whatever group awaits you in Dale."

I'd bet Thorin didn't like hearing that, but too bad. I was tired, and had every intention of heading to bed early, for some extra sleep. Glorfindel had kept us on a strict travel schedule, and since sleeping in the saddle was not possible for me, being able to get plenty of rest was something I was eager for.

Inside the tiny, low tent Ethelwen and I shared, I helped her spread out our bedding, fluff the small pillows that had been wrapped up in them, and tossed a handful of special herbs into the brazier, to ward off insects. Even with the herbs, though, I always slept with a thin veil or scarf around my face, in case.

Supper consisted of a saddlebag full of vegetables and a large, fine slab of beef that Gandalf had brought with him from Dale. Before arriving in Middle Earth, I'd been a major carnivore; with a plate of perfectly cooked steak slices and roasted veggies, I was literally a very happy camper.

After supper, Gandalf brought out the giggles in me by blowing smoke-creatures at me from across the fire. Tobacco smoke had always irritated me, but for some reason, pipeweed seemed much more subtle –almost comforting, with its green scent. So I didn't mind if a bird or butterfly landed on my nose, the wisps of smoke tickling my skin and making me laugh.

I went to bed at a relatively early hour, and in the morning, was even allowed to sleep in an hour or so, while my Elven guards polished their weapons and armor. When I finally woke, it was to find a plate of buttered toast and fresh berries waiting for me, along with a cauldron of hot water.

"We want you to look and smell your best," Ethelwen teased, crinkling her nose slightly. "You have done well in keeping yourself clean on our journey, but a good wash with hot water is something I think you will appreciate, and enjoy."

She was right. During our travels, the only times I was able to tidy up was at night or early morning, using whatever cold stream was nearby. I have no idea how the others kept themselves looking so spotless (seriously, not even a smudge of dirt anywhere!), but in spite of my efforts, I probably was starting to smell a bit ripe.

As I gave myself a nice little sponge bath atop a wide cloth, to keep grass off my damp feet, Ethelwen retrieved one of the fine dresses the seamstresses had made me. "The silvery-blue will look well on you, Meluir," she said, gently laying the gown on top of my bedding. "Use the headdress Lord Elrond gave you, and the pendant that was your departure gift. I will find a cloak to suit you."

I dressed as quickly and carefully as possible, with Ethelwen carefully arranging my hair and setting the hairpiece in place. She also selected one silver and one gold ring, to go with the gold velvet cloak I would be wearing. The silver and pearl pendant went on last, the mithril bracelet sent to me by the Dwarves delicately on my right wrist. Into my pockets went a few lengths of ribbon, in case I needed to tie my hair back.

Then, I was ready.

At the sight of the huge crowd waiting for me along the road to Dale, I swallowed hard, and almost turned Shan around. How could I have forgotten that I hated crowds?

'Okay, a crowd had seen me off in Rivendell, but that was positively subdued compared to this!'

It looked as though the entire population of the city had come out to greet us, and for the life of me, I couldn't understand why. I was just a girl going to visit a Dwarf King, who might just be a great friend to me later. Why were they acting as though I were some sort of celebrity, or important person?

"Gandalf, why are they all here?" I asked as we approached the cheering crowd. "I'm not that important; I'm just a girl in Elvish clothing."

Wise blue eyes turned towards me. "You are more than 'just' a girl, Alyssa," he whispered. How strange it was, hearing my birth name again from him! "Since the coming of the dragon, things have been uneasy between Elves, Men and Dwarves in this part of Middle Earth. The fact that you, a woman who is the ward of an Elf Lord, are here to visit with the Dwarf King is an event that could bring all three together. The people of Dale may have a well-loved leader in Bard the Bowman, but you are their only hope of bringing peaceful negotiations that will benefit them all…even if this is not the purpose of your visit here."

He smiled and reached out to pat my hand. "Thorin already thinks highly of you, and values your opinion. If you even hint that you hope things will be peaceful and prosperous between Dwarves and Men, I've no doubt he will do everything possible to make it a reality."

'No pressure, then,' I thought with a sigh.

I pulled the hood of my cloak up, to shield my face from the sun. It was a bit chilly for March, but more than warm enough in the sunshine.

The road was wide enough for four riders to travel side-by-side without difficulty. When we reached the edge of the crowd, I saw my guards slowly shift, so that they formed a rectangle around our party. To my left was Gandalf, while behind me were Lord Glorfindel and Ethelwen, followed by the two carts with our travel equipment. To my right, a guard kept a straight face as he pieced together a metal pole, to which he attached a banner from his saddlebag. When it unfurled, I recognized it as the symbol of Lord Elrond's House.

'Well, that somewhat makes it officially a state visit,' I thought, trying to keep from throwing up in nervousness. I was pretty sure that flags and banners were only brought out for important visits. 'So much for keeping this an informal stay.'

As we rode closer, I was relieved to hear no jeers or taunts; there was only applause and cheerful greetings from the crowd. Men removed their hats and gave respectful nods; women gave small curtsies and urged their children to 'show proper respect for the lady.'

On we rode, with me purposely not looking at the ruins of Dale. 'The poor people! They had their homes burned by a dragon, and the only place they could relocate and settle into were the ruins of a once great city.'

I dared a discreet look, and recanted my previous thought. In the months since the dragon had been slain, the people had done a rather good job of rebuilding Dale. Buildings that were in too poor shape had been torn down; homes were being built, using new materials or what could be scavenged from what was already there.

The people seemed to be healthy, too. The children looked to have eaten well this winter; I saw no gaunt, starving faces anywhere. Everyone had the air of folks who clearly put filling their bellies before anything else. And even though their clothes were somewhat patch-worked together, they were all clean and in good shape.

It was a great relief, actually, knowing that their needs had been seen to this winter. But how had they been able to pay for all of it? Surely there wasn't enough coin in the entire town to buy rebuilding supplies, or feed them all through the fall and winter?

Slowly, we rode through the townspeople, until we reached the gates of the city itself. The crowd outside the city had been large; the number inside was just as huge, if not more so. The only ones standing between the city gates was a small family: two teenage girls and a teen boy, as well as a tall, dark-haired man.

Since he was more elegantly dressed than the others, and appeared to have an uncomfortable look on his face, I guessed that this man had to be Bard the Bowman, the one who had slain the dragon and (reluctantly) been put in charge of Dale.

As we approached, Bard stepped forward, his children pacing up behind him. I noticed that Bard's son looked incredibly nervous and uncomfortable, while his sisters seemed to be more than excited to see us.

"Oh! How pretty she is!" the youngest one whispered to her sister, before an elbow nudged her into silence.

"Welcome, my lords and ladies," Bard said, extending open arms towards us. "Welcome to Dale."

At that, the crowd burst into a tremendous wave of applause, startling the horses a little. Shan shifted under me, but didn't rear. Meanwhile, the guards in front of me immediately shifted their horses out of the way, creating a straight path for Bard and his family to approach.

"Thank you, Master Bowman," Gandalf greeted in return. "May I present the Lady Alyssa, ward and foster daughter of Lord Elrond of Rivendell?"

I thought it odd that he didn't use my Elf name, but since we were with humans, it was probably for the best.

Bard stepped forward, pausing as my guards tightened their grips on their weapons or reins. When none of them stopped him, he slowly came to the side of my horse. I kept a tight grip on my reins, to keep Shan from biting him.

"May I assist you down, my lady?" he asked. "I believe the townspeople would like to offer you and your party food and drink, as well as a place to rest a brief while, before you continue on to the Mountain."

He shifted a little, as though embarrassed. "We did not prepare a feast, as we were not sure what sort of reception you would get at the Mountain, but we fixed up something hot and filling, to hold you until you get there."

I was rather charmed by how his noble bearing could be offset by how awkward he felt in his new position as head of the town. "I thank you," I replied, smiling at him. "You are very kind."

I threw a quick glance at Glorfindel, who nodded his agreement. "We would be happy to stop for an hour or two."

Ever the gentleman, Bard reached up to assist me to dismount. Since I was riding my horse astride, with the loose fabric of my gown covering up that fact, I had to very carefully swing my leg over, so that he could help me slide down to the ground.

"Don't worry," I heard Bard whisper. "I've got you."

I must have blushed, or at least looked embarrassed, because he smiled back at me. "Your first time riding in a gown, I assume? I know females Elves who ride in breeches. You must have taken up the habit in Rivendell?"

"I did," I admitted as I slid down the side of my horse. "It's far easier that way, don't you think?"

He openly grinned as he gently set me on the ground. "I'm not sure; I've never worn a dress before."

We had a good laugh at that, while the others dismounted. Half of the Elf guards took the horses to a nearby corral, while Bard sent his son to handle the horses pulling the carts.

"Bain loves horses," he said, before waving towards the two girls. "These are my daughters: Sigrid and Tilda."

The eldest gave a curtsy, while the younger stepped forward with a broad smile and a cheerful, "Hello!"

What really got me by the heartstrings was the doll Tilda had tucked into her belt, under the brown wool shawl she wore.

"I hope your little friend isn't getting too squished," I gently teased, causing her to blush. "May I meet her?"

Sigrid, I could see, was giving her little sister a scathing look, but Tilda didn't hesitate as she handed me the doll. The poor thing was clearly well-loved, with worn stitches, a faded face, and brand new, bright red yarn hair. The dress was a faded, dull brown. All around, this doll had clearly seen better days.

"Ethelwen," I called back to my friend in Elvish. "Will you find one of my larger handkerchiefs? I believe there are several unused ones in the saddlebags."

She looked rather confused by my request, but did as I asked. The material she brought me was large, and a pale lavender in color, with deep blue embroidery along the edges. If I wrapped it tight enough, it would form a very nice little strapless gown for Tilda's doll.

When she saw what I had in mind, the broad smile on the little girl's face practically outshone the sun. "A new dress for my doll, Papa!" she cried, clapping her hands. "My doll will have a new Elf dress!"

I finished rather quickly, tying the material tightly in the back before handing it back into Tilda's eager hands. "You'll want to fasten it in the back a bit more," I warned her, "To keep it from coming loose."

Bard had to keep me from falling over as Tilda threw herself at me, her small arms wrapping around my waist in a tremendous hug.

As we were led into what had to be the Town Hall, Bard was rather embarrassed by his youngest child's show of affection, but I assured him I didn't mind.

"I'm very fond of children," I said, giving Tilda a small wink, causing her to grin.

Inside the Hall, in the center of the room was a large fire pit, with a cauldron of thick soup or stew simmering. We visitors from Rivendell were shown to a scattering of chairs near the fire, while Sigrid ladled out the soup.

Gandalf dug into his bowl immediately, and after giving the food a discreet sniff (as I had no idea what food outside of Rivendell was like), I was impressed with the lovely aroma of the broth. Nothing smelled rancid or 'off,' and it looked as though a lot of care had been put into cooking it.

I took a small sip of broth, and almost hummed with joy. It was a beef stew, full of meat and well-cooked vegetables. The broth was flavorful, thick, and delicious –just the thing I needed after weeks on the road.

Glorfindel had seemed unsure whether to eat what was being served, but either out of politeness or because he saw how happily I dug into my food, he accepted a bowl of stew and began to eat.

Taking a seat beside me, Bard related news of the town and its people. He described how hard they were working to rebuild, and return Dale to its former glory. It seemed that materials were being brought in regularly, first to build up homes for everyone, then to the shops and public buildings.

"Everyone looks very well-fed and happy," I commented, looking first at Bard and his family, then the odd villager who had stopped by to gawk at us. "I am glad that you did not suffer this winter, since everything was lost."

"The King Under-the-Mountain saw to that," Bard explained. "He paid the Elf King a good sum to feed us and provide material for clothes."

He blushed a little. "Though I'm afraid we mostly used the cloth for blankets and pillows, rather than clothing."

I put a gentle hand on his arm. "It's alright. I'm sure they would rather be in rags, happy and healthy, instead of starving and well-dressed."

Bard looked surprised. "You really believe that? Most would look at their shabbiness and be offended at having them in their presence."

Carefully setting down my empty bowl, I quietly said, "I'm not most people."

There was a moment of quiet before he replied, "Yes, I can see that."

We stayed no more than two hours in Dale. During that time, Gandalf was more than happy to accept and relay news, while Bard sat and listened.

Meanwhile, I found myself the center of female attention, as Sigrid, Tilda, as well as numerous young women, girl children, and a few older ladies, gathered around me. They were extremely curious about how a woman came to live with the Elves, and many of the younger generation wanted to know how Rivendell Elves differed from those of Mirkwood variety.

For over an hour, I answered questions about what the valley was like; the foods Elves there ate; and whether Lord Elrond was as cold and distant as King Thranduil. I assured them that Lord Elrond was kind to everyone under his rule and protection, including me. Their questions about food and such were easy to answer, but it was hard to describe the beauty of the valley to those who had never seen it.

It made sense, I guess, that they didn't know much about Elves from different realms. Mirkwood was practically at their doorstep, and many probably traded with the Woodland Realm. Seeing Elves that looked and dressed different from what they were used to must have been very interesting.

"Your dress is so pretty," one of the young girls said, staring at it. "Did they make it for you? What is that pattern they used for the embroidery?"

I had to call Ethelwen to answer clothing questions, as I had no idea what to say about the stitching and embroidery patterns! Lucky for me, my Elf friend was glad to talk about it, and even brought out a few of my (unused) handkerchiefs to show them.

"Look at that!" one of the older women exclaimed. "It almost looks like you wove water onto the cloth! See how it shimmers, girls?"

My heart ached when I saw the longing on their faces; they wanted so much to have something pretty to wear. I doubted any lace or ribbons had been sent to them by King Thranduil.

'I want to give them something from my own wardrobe, even if it's just a length of ribbon, but that would make it seem like I'm playing favorites,' I thought, hiding a sigh. 'But once my generosity is noticed, others are bound to approach and ask for a handout, or ask if I would be willing to sell some of my things, and I just couldn't do that.'

I also didn't have enough to hand out to even the dozen or so females that sat around me. Even if I did give them something, jealousies would start, and then there would be trouble. The last thing I wanted was to cause issues for poor Bard to deal with; he had enough on his plate already.

Finally, Glorfindel stood and declared it was time to go. "We should not keep the Dwarf King waiting," he reminded us. "And I do not doubt that he already knows we are here."

I bid farewell to my gathered audience, and gave Tilda one last hug. From one of my pockets, I pulled a length of blue ribbon and discreetly pressed it into Sigrid's hand.

When she looked at me in surprise, I smiled and whispered, "It would be unfair for me to gift something to your sister, and not to you."

Sigrid's cheeks turned a delicate pink as she whispered her thanks. "I will treasure it always, my lady."

"And please tell your father that I would be happy to have your family visit me at the Mountain," I said, just loud enough for her and Tilda to hear. "I would like to see you again, as I think we'll be good friends."

Her dark eyes lit up with excitement and joy. "I've always wanted to see the inside of the Mountain. And you could visit us here; I know Tilda would like to see you."

The little girl bounced on her feet. "Yes! Please come visit us! I'll make a new dress for my doll, and you can see her all dressed up!"

Gandalf heard that last part, and chuckled as he approached. "I see you've made new friends, Meluir," he said in Elvish. "But now it is time to go."

After saying goodbye to Sigrid and Tilda, as well as Bard, we headed back to the square in front of the Hall. There, my guards waited, mounted on their horses in a square around the mounts and carts. Bain, meanwhile, looked somewhat torn between elation and terror, for he held the reins to my somewhat temperamental steed.

Shan, however, seemed to be behaving himself, standing perfectly still as Bain held him. As I approached, Shan eyed me carefully before turning his head to give me a sniff, as though he wanted to be sure I was alright.

"I'm fine," I whispered in Elvish. To Bain, I asked in Common, "I hope he didn't cause trouble? He's good at doing that."

One of Shan's ears went back, but he did nothing more than nudge me sharply with his nose. Bain smiled and reached up to scratch Shan's ears while his free hand produced an apple, effectively telling me how he'd won my horse over.

Eying my steed, I chided him, "You'd better not get spoiled with treats. Otherwise, we'll have to roll you back to Rivendell."

Shan snorted, but ignored me as he munched away at his apple. Turning towards the lad who was now blushing a bright pink, I smiled. "Thank you for taking such good care of him. I've invited your father and sisters to visit me at Erebor. I hope you will join them? If only to visit Shan, of course."

Bain blushed a little harder. "Happy to, my lady," he whispered.

I mounted up. "Luck to you, young Bain," I softly said.

With a nudge to Shan's side, I followed Gandalf and my guards towards Erebor, through a crowd of waving townsfolk.

Someone had clearly gone ahead and told the Dwarves how close we were, for there was a large company of Dwarf soldiers waiting outside the gates. In the center was a dais, with what looked like the entire company that had accompanied Thorin on his quest.

And right in the center of that group, seated on a wooden throne, was Thorin himself.

A voice rang out, shouting a brisk command in the Dwarf tongue. Instantly, the troops marched forward, forming an honor guard along the road. The Elves were startled, as were our mounts, but everyone kept their head and tightened their grips on the reins. Slowly, the horses began to settle, and we made our way toward our host with little trouble.

A fair distance from the dais, Gandalf called for us to halt and dismount. My Elf guards did so reluctantly, but I didn't mind; I knew no one here was going to harm us.

As a few guards took the reins of our horses, Glorfindel came to offer me his arm, while Gandalf moved to stand beside Ethelwen. "You and I will lead, Meluir," Glorfindel said. "As you are the King's guest, it is best if you were to greet him thus."

Gandalf gently cleared his throat. "Perhaps it would be best if she is called Alyssa while she is in Erebor," he suggested. "It might make the Dwarves more comfortable, and it is the name that Thorin used when speaking of her to me."

"I agree," I quietly voiced, though Ethelwen and Glorfindel looked unhappy with the change. "It is not an insult to the Elves; I have two names, and am happy to be addressed by whichever one makes others most comfortable. I can respond to both, for I know that I am both those people: Alyssa and Meluir."

My Elf friends accepted that.

Taking Glorfindel's arm, I let him lead me up to where the Dwarves were restlessly shifting on their feet.

The thick black-and-gold robes he wore, or perhaps the warm spring sunshine, could have been the source of his sweating; but Thorin knew it was his nerves getting the best of him.

For months, he had been eager for her arrival, yet dreading it. Part of him declared it was right to invite the young woman who had so kindly provided supplies and friendship to his kin. Another part argued that it was too soon, that Erebor was still in shambles even months after the dragon had been slain and the Orcs defeated.

But here she was, striding towards him, one hand delicately resting on the arm of a tall, handsome Elf with golden hair. While the Elf looked stiff and formal, Alyssa's face was soft and full of kindness, a small smile pulling at her lips when she saw Ori waving happily at her, before Nori firmly pulled his hand down.

The clothing she wore were of Elvish make: they flowed like water, or drifted like clouds. Silver and gold, they were, fit for a princess, or the ward of an Elf Lord.

But they did not suit her. These clothes were meant for an Elf: someone tall and regal, cold and noble, like all the other Elves Thorin had met.

Alyssa's face was human, full of warm and life. She should wear purple, red, or another vibrant hue, rather than silver and gold.

He almost laughed aloud at the thought. A Dwarf, preferring something else over silver and gold!

An elbow nudged his side, causing Thorin to turn and glare at his closest friend and advisor. "She looks well, after such a long journey," Balin commented in Khuzdul, what people called Dwarvish. "She even wears jewels. They make her look quite lovely, don't they?"

Thorin frowned a little. "It's not the jewels that make her lovely; it is her heart. For what she has done for me, I could never hope to repay."

Balin sighed. "Don't try it, lad. She's a humble girl, and it's clear to any of us that she'll accept no gifts of gratitude from us. I think she's here because she wishes us to be friends, or already consider us so."

He was probably right. And this was, so Thorin thought, a casual visit. He hadn't thought that Lord Elrond would turn this into a diplomatic event. 'Perhaps I should have been more specific in my message to her.'

But it was too late, now. She was here, standing before him with a smile filled with joy at seeing him and his Company alive and well.

Her voice was soft as she greeted him. "My lord," she said, dropping into a curtsy. "Thank you for your invitation. I was happy and honored to receive it."

Rising from his throne, Thorin offered her his right hand. "I am glad you have come, my lady," he replied.

Fingers that were slightly roughened from long handing leather reins slipped into his. For a moment, Thorin marveled at how warm and gentle her hand was.

His greeting of "Welcome to Erebor" sounded strangled in his ears, but it must have seemed well to her, for the smile on Alyssa's face widened a little.

'Welcome, indeed.'

AN: Review?