Thorin felt irritated all through the conference with the elf lord. He could not say that the Lord Elrond was anything but a perfect host, offering aid, reading the map for them and offering advice (nobody asked for), but Thorin didn't trust him or his motives. He could not afford to. And the haughtiness of this place irked him further. He saw no open disrespect, but he felt "the Eldar's " loftiness and thought it aimed at the Company. And he would not suffer attempts for the dwarfs to be made less than they were, before any man. Excusing himself from the elevated table he was placed at for dinner, he passed by Gandalf and stopped by Roni's chair and placing one large hand on her shoulder he offered his other to her, waiting. He saw her lift her face to him with a quizzical expression and a cheek rounded by the morsel she stopped chewing.
Roni swallowed and noting Thorin's serious gaze and cordial manner, she stood up, placing her hand in his, letting him lead her to the rest of the dwarfs in a slow and dignified pace. That he has folded his arm and pulled her close to him, covering her hand with his other one, was noted by all. The side of the hobbit's face closer to Thorin started to rapidly warm up and her hand trembled and stomach clenched.
Roni's displeasure at being thus "told what to do" was left for later, while she awkwardly tried to fulfill her "role." What that role was supposed to be she hadn't much idea, for an arm ornament was hardly the function she would have ever linked to herself.
Roni felt like she was a piece of painted crockery on display in an ornate porcelain cabinet. Again confused, she thought that this journey has brought her more hours of discomposure than anyone in the Shire would be ready and able to ever believe. She also knew that anyone in the Shire (save her favorite aunt) would tell her that she should have thought about that when she had forgone "the hobbit way" and had ventured on an adventure. Her confusion, was replaced by grumpiness.
Thorin on the other hand was feeling anything but. As soon as he felt her hand on his arm and they left the raised patio, all his previous annoyance washed away. They descended majestically, as was befitting the Heir of Durin, amongst the dwarven and elven populace, the later segregated into small groups of elvish persons (as unsuspecting Kili had found out to a humorous effect, it was nay impossible to discern elf males from elf females) catering and playing intricately carved instruments, some familiar, some not, to the the large group of raucous, apparently with bottomless stomachs, dwarfs.
The dwarves cheered their joining them and Thorin sat at the head of the table and Roni was placed by his left, next to Fili. She still felt quite unable to look at the dwarf when he addressed her and she scolded herself internally. Her eyes kept drifting to the small knife Fili used to pop boiled potatoes into his mouth. It had Fili's rune on it, too.
Soon, the dwarfs startled the elven musicians with the merry tune of their own, spurred by Bofur jumping on the table and kicking the rhythm with his booted feet.
The food started flying and Roni must have shown some of her distaste on her face when Kili "accidently" threw a radish at her and Fili stood up and offering his hand to her, asked, "Dance with me , Miss Bryony?"
Roni never danced. Not while there were curious eyes to watch anyway. Alone in her kitchen, or gliding between it and her pantry or while overhauling the 3 recipes into a new flavoursome delight, carried by the joy of creation she might have tried a sway or two, but not here, not in front of the representatives of the two thirds of the freeborn nations.
"No, I can't! Thank you. I have two left feet." She aimed a pleading, puppy look at Fili but his eyes were serious and warm.
"No you don't," was his answer and to his credit his look did not stray from her face. He extended his hand a bit more.
'Just like that,' thought Roni and tried not to notice that despite Bofur's frolicking still going on, the two of them started drawing attention.
She accepted his hand and she noticed how this time, while she was led to a clearing between the table and the ornate fence that edged the high perched terrace overlooking spectacular Rivendell scenery, she was the one that did accept. Under some pressure, certainly, but the choice was hers.
The dwarfs began a new song, some kind of a merry jig, very reminiscent of the kind of music Shire folk favored on the annual Harvest Festival and Fili took her left hand lightly in his left and placed his other one around her back and on her waist. They started hopping and twirling and after initially stiffly and reluctantly following, soon enough Roni felt better and better and became less tense under Fili's confident lead. The smile graced her face and she relaxed and followed the increasing pace of the dance, Fili's blue eyes and smiling moustache came in and out of her vision and she twirled and twirled until she was suddenly pulled back towards him and stopped, pressed into his side, feeling the taut muscles and the warmth of him. She raised her head and being a bit shorter than him, she saw his neck and the pulsing under the skin and its long line and her hand twitched with the impulse to trace it to where it met his collarbone, the pure artistic perfection of it fascinating.
In the next instant, the song was finished, the rest of the dwarves resumed their loud talking over each other and Fili stepped back and made a small bow, again offering his hand and taking her to her place when she accepted. The daze she was under seemed not to be in a hurry to leave her.
A rare sight, that was not witnessed by any of the company, was in the background of 13 dwarves, a hobbit, and a wizard leaving The Last Homely House the following morning.
There were several elves in thigh high boots, with thick aprons, and small pieces of square cloth across the lower parts of their faces, with gloved hands, cleaning the currently closed cascading fountain of Rivendell with large push brooms.