Kingsfoil: the Secret Scenes!

The Dwarves are Suspicious...

This scene takes place after Yule, when Prince Thorin recuperates from the poisoned hat episode and the other dwarves are forced to enjoy the Elvenking's hospitality for a little while longer.

January, 3018...

Thranduil had been in a horrible temper at lunch.  The soup was too cold, the bread too tough, and he scowled almost the entire time, despite Narylfiel's attempts at conversation.  She could not be completely sure, but some of his foul mood could possibly be attributed to the fact that the healers informed him that Prince Thorin was in no shape to travel in his weakened state and would require a longer stay in the visitors' wing of the king's halls. 

Did she mention that the dwarves were there at lunch?  They were.  At a table perhaps too close to the king's for comfort. Hence, the scowling and bad temper.

So it was with little regret she left him after lunch to visit the dwarves and possibly make amends for her husband's less than hospitable behavior. She had her little pocket knife with her and hoped she might work some more on the carving of her rabbit...cat.  It was a cabbit.  Either way, she was sure it would turn out charming!  She hoped to finish it as an adorable toy for her new niece or nephew.  She could already imagine Legolas making fun of it, and she grinned a little in anticipation of the moment. 

She knocked only once on the door before Dwalin swung it open.  The shared common room was empty behind him, and Narylfiel greeted him with a smile.

He frowned but motioned for her to enter.

"Have a seat, miss.  The others will be out soon enough, but I wanted a minute to say something."

Her easy grin faded at his serious tone.  "Of course, Dwalin."

He folded his arms and stared at the fireplace for a second.  "I'm not any kind of easy talker like Bofur is, so I'll just come out and say it: Is King Thranduil good to you?"

She sputtered for a second. "Good to me?"

He turned away from the fire, his dark eyes troubled. "I watched him at lunch. He's known for his temper. Has he ever hurt you?"

"He does have a horrible temper," Narylfiel agreed, "but he would nev—"

"And what about at Erebor and in Dale?" Dwalin interrupted.  "Did he take advantage of you?"

In any other circumstance, Narylfiel might have wanted to laugh at the idea of Thranduil taking advantage of her—it was more like she had tried to seduce him!—but Dwalin was so earnest, so deadly serious, that laughter was the furthest thing from her mind at the moment. 

"I thank you for your concern," she said, her cheeks staining pink.  "But Thranduil has only ever acted with honor toward me."

Dwalin harrumphed. 

"Truly," she added, and seeing the other dwarves looking on from the doorway, she motioned for them to come in.  "King Thranduil is very, very good to me.  But I appreciate your looking out for me all the same."

'Very well," Dwalin said, but Narylfiel could tell he and the other dwarves were not wholly convinced, and she decided that this was a conversation she would never repeat to Thranduil.

Her elvenking would be horrified.