Everlong

39

Thorin had watched from the ramparts of stone walkways within Erebor as kites flew over the skies of Dale, he could not think of a day that passed where children weren't outside flying kites; they were in varied designs, and they floated and glided in the sky with ease. But Thorin was mainly up here eyeing up the oncoming guests which were going to be visiting them. Thorin had no particular thoughts or feelings over elves visiting them, he supposed predominantly he was confused. He was not aware that his grandfather had invited them here. His own father, Thráin, had seemed to try and be casual on the matter; as if it didn't matter at all, yet there was a lingering tension which was growing within him. Thorin could see it, he could sense it too, he was rather sure his brother and sister could too.

He wasn't expecting his father to be all welcoming, but then Thorin wasn't expecting the elves to act a similar. All in all, he knew there was going to be a falling out, he just didn't know who'd set it off. "Shouldn't you be downstairs, lad?" A kind, lighthearted voice asked from his side, Thorin turned and looked to the greying brunette who had just walked out of the large carven doorways.

"Balin, don't tell me you have come up here to escape being part of the welcome party as well." Thorin countered with a smirk, he crossed his arms over his navy tunic and watched his friend mumble under his breath and shake his head. He couldn't help but smirk more, of course he was. There was no need for those who were up here to guard the entranceway. They weren't at war, or even fighting, Erebor was at peace.

"Actually, your father sent me in search of you to go and attend said welcome party." Balin countered watching Thorin's eyes widen, Balin couldn't help but chuckle quietly to himself. He moved over and rested his hands on the thick, grey brickwork of the lookout. "Best not keep them waiting, lad."

Thorin knew better than most that if he wasn't present, then his father and grandfather would not let him hear the end of it. Frerin and Dís were luckily allowed to not partake in this meeting, Thorin found that was a bit unfair. Sure, he was the eldest, but even still how were they able to bunk off? "Thanks for that," Thorin passed Balin, placing a hand on his shoulder and exiting quickly enough. Even as he made his way down the stairs, he could hear the large doors open for the elves.

Thorin's heavy boots stomped down the winding stairs as he descended them, he turned and walked briskly onwards. He made his way to the throne room with a determined look, he got a look sent his way by Thráin; he was clearly not happy about his son being late, Thrór however remained sitting in the large stone chair which was up a small staircase. Thorin took his place and stood attentive and watching as the elves were guided and led into the room.

He couldn't help but note that a small number were in similar armour, the muted gold of it shimmered ever so slightly in the light of the room. Thorin couldn't see their faces, due to the helmets they wore. He couldn't even see their eyes, it was disconcerting not being able to see the faces of some of the guests. At the forefront was Thranduil, Thorin had never met him before and really, with the way he was passively looking up at them, Thorin sort of hoped this may be the one time. There was something somewhat condescending with his expression, as if he was actually the ruler of this kingdom, and they were the visitors which he was trying not to look irritated over being present. If he didn't want to be here, Thorin was rather certain he could've declined the invite. The elf beside him wore similar armour to those of the guards, although it was worn over top a dark blue tunic and minus the helmet. Unlike Thranduil's hair flowing freely down his back and over his shoulders, the female's was braided so much Thorin didn't know where one started and stopped or led onto another. Also unlike the Elvenking, hers was a rich auburn chestnut colour. But also unlike Thranduil, her eyes were wide, her mouth was practically agape as she stood gawping at everything.