Calen meets me outside of my room. The dwarves appear to have already left and I can't blame them. It's late and they're hungry. Calen doesn't say much as she leads me to the dining balcony, but does point out a couple of places that I'm interested in exploring later. When we reach the dining balcony, the rest of the company gathered at two long tables, with Thorin, Gandalf, and Elrond sitting off to the side at a higher table.

"Aspen! Come join us!" Kili calls, waving me over and indicating a seat next to him. I give him a grin and sit down, helping myself to the wide variety of roasted vegetables and grains at the table. I love Bombur's cooking, but I would be lying if I said I haven't been craving something besides stew or charred sausages.

The scent of unwashed dwarf assaults my nose. Did Kili take a bath? A quick glance tells me no, and neither did anyone else. Thorin might have, given the dampness of his hair.

"You look very nice Aspen. And clean. Are those new clothes?" Kili questions, giving my attire a look over. "They are. I'm borrowing them while we're here." I look down at myself, admiring the leggings and long tunic cut in Rivendell style. Both provide good freedom of movement.

"Hmm," Kili responds around a mouth full of bread. "You would look better in dwarrow clothes. Elvish clothes don't become you." At this I raise my eyebrow. "Would I now?" "Of course you would," Kili scoffs. "Everyone knows that dwarrow clothing is the finest there is, as well as the best quality. Good cloth, leather, stitching, and of course ornamentation! When we reclaim Erebor I shall have to see about getting you some proper clothing."

The food in my mouth suddenly doesn't taste so good. I swallow and say, "You sound like Dori." Kili snorts and replies, "What, am I not allowed to brag about the greatness of dwarves? I'm a prince! I have a responsibility to know my people and our crafts."

I sit there a minute, feeling overwhelmed with various emotions. "Oh. I guess with your carefree attitude, I always just assumed you didn't…really care. Not that you don't care about your people, but you didn't really care about your studies," I rush to say.

Kili looks over at me, serious. "You of all people should know what an act looks like." Then he gives an impish grin. "Besides, it's fun watching emissaries' heads explode when I don't fall for their tricks." I smile back, agreeing with him.

As I look up and down the two tables, I notice I'm the only one truly enjoying the meal. Dori is trying to get Ori to eat a bite of lettuce, to which Ori shakes his head and responds that he doesn't like green food. Dwalin is asking where the meat is, and Oin is looking at his food in confusion and slight disgust. Why don't they ask for more food? Are they just being stubborn or thoughtless? It's not that hard.

Turning to one of the elves serving, I ask, "Excuse me, but might we have a bit of meat please? My company has had a long day and we need the protein. Thank you very much." Smiling and bowing graciously, the elf nods and walks away, hopefully to get more hearty food for the dwarves. Bofur stares at me. "What? It's not that hard." He just shakes his head, not bothering to elaborate.

I notice Kili eyeing the elleth playing the harp in the corner. Bemused, I watch as he explains to Dwalin, "I can't say that I fancy elf maids myself. They're too thin. They're all high cheekbones, and creamy skin—not enough facial hair for me. Although that one there is not bad," he indicates an ellon playing a lyre. I collapse in a fit of laughter as Dwalin says, "That's not an elf maid."

The rest of the company laughs at Kili's astounded look which soon clears to a smirk. He turns to me. "Well he certainly is a looker don't you think Aspen?" while wiggling his eyebrows. I scrutinize the ellon for a second, then say in undertone, "He is nice to look at, but you can keep him." Kili grins at me and looks at the elf again. "I just might."

A group of elves step onto the balcony, bearing large platters of meat and pies. The dwarves cheer and immediately begin to divvy up portions, tearing into their meals with renewed vigor. Up at the high table I can see Gandalf and Elrond deep in discussion, while Thorin is trying and failing to look interested. Abruptly he excuses himself and walks over to the other table of dwarves, entering their conversation easily. I sigh. Wanting to be here and actually being here are two very different things.

I look up to see Elrond's eyes following him before they cut over to me. I look down again, not wanting to seem rude to our guests. Apparently Nori has no such qualms, for he calls out, "Change the tune, why don't ya? I feel like I'm at a funeral!" Oin, who's half deaf, asks, "Did somebody die?"

Suddenly Bofur declares, "Alright lads, there's only one thing for it!" Pushing back his chair, he climbs onto the table and then on a pedestal, silencing the music and conversation at once. The elves quickly make their way to the edge of the balcony, a place I deem the safest to spectate. Then Bofur begins singing.

There's an inn, there's an inn

There's a merry old inn, beneath an old gray hill

And there they brew a beer so brown

The Man in the moon himself came down

One night to drink his fill.

Oh, the ostler has a tipsy cat

That plays a five string fiddle

And up and down he runs his bow

Now squeaking high, now purring low

Now sawing in the middle

So the cat on his fiddle played hey-diddle-diddle

a jig that would wake the dead

He squeaked and sawed and quickened the tune

While the landlord shook the Man in the Moon:

'It's after three!' he said.

While Bofur is singing, out of the corner of my eye I see Thorin grinning and stamping his feet with a drink in hand. I shake my head as the dwarves cheer and start a food fight. I do not participate, choosing instead to stand and make my way over to Elrond.

"Good evening Lord Elrond. Gandalf," I greet. The two men bow their heads, and Elrond says, "Gandalf has told me there is something you wish to speak with me about, though he will not say what it is." I nod. "Yes, I would like to speak with you if I may." Elrond and Gandalf rise from the table. "Then please come by my study tomorrow afternoon. I am eager to hear your story."

I thank him and bow as they leave, then straighten just in time for Bofur to throw a roll at my head. "Apologies Aspen! I'm so sorry!" he calls hastily, fear apparent in his voice. I turn slowly with a stony look on my face and walk over to the nearest platter of mashed potatoes. I fling a handful at him, spattering his hat and clothing with the gooey food.

Nori laughs and throws more mashed potatoes at Bofur. "That's a good aim lass! Keep practicing and you'll nail him in the face!" I turn to him and raise an eyebrow. "Aye and if you steal my keys one more time I'll be practicing on you." Nori doesn't react, but looks away as I smirk.

I head back to my room. Exploring can wait until tomorrow. I shut the door, looking at my narrow bed and sighing in happiness.

Privacy and a mattress. Life couldn't get any better.

In the morning the dwarves tell me they were so loud when they drunkenly stumbled back in during the wee hours of the morning they were certain they would wake me. I assure them I did not hear a thing.

After breakfast on the balcony I do a little wandering. I fully intend to enjoy every aspect of Rivendell as much as I can. Hours later, when the winds are cool and the sun is high in the sky, I've discovered the library, the kitchens, multiple gardens, and a grand hall filled with chairs and musical instruments.

Down the way from the music chamber is a curved hall. Something about it triggers a memory of a similar place from the Lord of the Rings movie. I frown and quicken my pace, quickly reaching a statue of a softly smiling woman. My breath catches in my throat when I see the shards of a sword resting there.

"Narsil," I breathe, hardly daring to believe my eyes. A sword of legend, right in front of me. I've been in Middle Earth for months, yet never even considered it might be a reality.

"You know of this sword?" I jump in surprise and spin around to see two elves standing before me, looking so much alike that they can only be twins. They bear a faint resemblance to Elrond, and I assume they're his sons.

I try to calm my frantic heart and swallow as I reply, "Of course. Doesn't everyone?" The twins exchange glances and then return their gazes to me, which, when done at the exact same time, is extremely unnerving, especially with the too-bright eyes elves have.

"No. Most people don't even know of its existence. Its existence is a story of legend, forgotten in time and reality. In fact, I find it strange that a human female not of the Dunedain would know of it," one says. The other jumps in immediately after, "It is a tale known to a select few, though I suppose a spy could learn of it. Or a thief." The twins stalk forward, and I back up until I bump into the statue.

Maintaining a calm façade while preparing for a fight is hard, but I try my best. "You accuse me of being a spy, but how do I know y'all aren't spies? How do I know you haven't come to steal the sword for your master or client?" The two stop, confused. I have to urge myself not to smile. Tipping the balance of power often confuses people.

"We're elves. How could we be spies?" "Are you saying elves cannot be corrupted for evil causes?" I tsk.
"Rather ignorant of history now are you?" I inch my hand closer to my thigh, and the knife strapped there.

The one on the right frowns. "We are not ignorant of history. In fact we've had one of the best educations possible in Middle Earth."

"Spies? We are not spies! How dare you accuse us of being spies? We live here!" The one on the left flaps his arms, a rather accosted look on his face. I would start laughing were it not for the dangerous position I'm still in. I need to diffuse this situation quickly.

"That doesn't mean anything. Now let's see. You claim you've had a good education, and that you're not spies." I give them a quick scan. "Rich clothing, but understated, so you're not lazing courtiers. Who could fit that criteria?" I rub my chin, pretending to think hard about this. "Engineers? Teachers?" The twins try to interject, but I brush them off. "No, no, let me concentrate. Healers? Smiths? Merchants?"

I spin to face them, a flat look on my face. "Or princes. This manner is unbecoming of you, sons of Elrond." They stare at me, blinking. The one on the right shuts his mouth with an audible click.

"You don't even know who I am, and you think it's perfectly fine to accuse me of being a spy? Or a thief?" I wave my arm for emphasis, glaring at the two. The one on the left blinks. "Forgive us. We could not resist testing the merit of the one who travels with dwarves."

"Well then do I get a ribbon?" I reply crisply. The elf nods. "If you would like I can fetch you one. My sister has many that would look lovely with your coloring. I am Elladan, and this is my twin Elrohir," he gestures to his twin, who still looks rather unsure of the whole situation.

"A pleasure," I reply, hoping that my tone conveys it really isn't. "If there is nothing else you two require, please do let me go on my way." I make to brush past them, but Elrohir asks, "May we escort you to your destination? It is the least we can do." I sigh. "Very well. I'm looking for the library."

The two twins flank me on either side as we start walking quickly back through the halls, both of them literally talking over my head at each other. My scowl grows deeper when they switch to Sindarin. I'm relieved when we finally reach the library. "Many thanks," I say, making a mental note to avoid them from now on. They bow as one and wander off, probably to annoy some poor other soul.

I settle myself down reading a book of fairy tales and fables from Middle Earth. Most are from Gondor or Rohan, and one each from the Shire and one from Breeland. What about tales from other places in Middle Earth? Where are they?

Ori appears after a while, and he and I talk for a bit after he confesses he feels a bit ashamed to make use of an elvish library. I ask him why dwarves think all elves are inherently bad, and point out that elves and dwarves used to work side by side. He and I ponders the dynamics of hatred and prejudice, and I encourage him to go to Lord Elrond or Gandalf with any questions he might have.

An hour or so passes and judging from the position of the sun it's time for my meeting with Elrond. I meet Calen at the door of the company room to walk over. Along the way, she invites me to accompany her tomorrow in her usual tasks in the kitchen, and I happily agree.

She leaves me outside the door of Elrond's study, and I knock, entering when he calls. The office has a more homey feeling than the rest of Rivendell, like it's more lived-in rather than passed-through. Bilbo is sitting in the chair before Elrond's desk, his legs swinging slightly in the air. We greet each other as Bilbo stands, but before he can leave, Elrond calls out, "Think upon my words, Master Bilbo." Bilbo nods, then exits.

Elrond turns his penetrating gaze to me, and I feel that he already knows both my past and my future. But it doesn't feel unsettling—instead it feels like an unknown burden has been lifted off my chest. His voice is kind as he says, "Please take a seat Lady Aspen. Are you faring well?" "I am well, thank you Lord Elrond."

"Now what do you wish to speak of?" I hesitate for just a second, but I believe that tells Lord Elrond more than my words ever could. In the end deciding it's best to be blunt and straight to the point, I say, "I'm not from this world. I woke up in Middle Earth about two months ago, in a forest west of here. I've been traveling with the dwarves in Thorin's employ, and I'm contracted to be in his service until we reach Erebor. But after this, I wish to go home. To my world."

I shove down the half-formed thought that perhaps I want to stay here, that I don't really want to go home. Who would I miss? My friends and family to be sure. Would I miss the problems of my world? Not really. But Middle Earth comes with its own set of problems.

"Not so long ago someone from a different world came here, and her actions greatly affected the course of the Battle of the Last Alliance." I blink at this information, and at his very elvish sense of time perception. "Were you able to send her home?"

Immediately the hope in my chest is squashed when Elrond gazes at me with sorrow and sympathy in his eyes. "I was not able to do so, though for over a century I tried."

For over a century I tried.

"What?"

"I was not able to send her home. She had to stay here in Middle Earth."

"Can you try again?" my voice cracks.

Elrond's eyes are full of sorrow; I know that he too has said goodbye to loved ones without knowing when he'll next see them.

"I will try again on your behalf Lady Aspen, but I will not give you false hope. The chance of discovering a way back to your world is very, very small." Elrond offers me a sad smile, trying to comfort me.

He's quiet for a moment, studying me. Then he says, "There have been stories of heroes from other worlds coming to Middle Earth in our darkest times, bringing light, hope, and healing when most needed. If you were sent here, I believe that it is here you were meant to stay and do the same. The people of your world have been able to settle into happy lives, and you will find your place here. And if you are ever in need of somewhere to stay, Imladris is open to you.

"Now go and rest Lady Aspen. Grief takes a long time to heal." I nod, unable to say anything, and exit the room. I stagger blindly down the halls, no sense of direction, narrowly avoiding collisions with objects or people. As if a very poor puppeteer is dragging me around on a string. I continue until I collapse outside by a waterfall, far away from prying eyes. Only then do sobs shake my body, and soon they turn into angry denials. I want to scream at the sky and whatever brought me here. I take all of it back! I will take back anything I to see my family again.

Images of my family flit past in my head. Never again will I see my youngest brother geek out over weaponry, or hear my oldest brother laugh at a joke I crack. Never again will I hear my dad say that he loves me, or cook with my mom. My grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins. All gone. Forever. Friends. Gone. Family. Gone.

Gone, gone, gone.