Oriana: The Last High Elf Of Lothlorien

Chapter Four: Beautiful...

***3rd POV***

Oriana was looking into her tenth mug. The beer was good...better than good. It was like honey and ginger. She felt no effect from it though. "When is this supposed to work?" She asked, grabbing another mug.

Dwalin and Balin were tipsy, Thorin was sitting very quietly, staring at a wall as he smoked his pipe. He was trying to hide the fact that he was drunk, not wanting to lose to an elf maid.

"What...?!" Dwalin shouted...he then fell out of his chair, passed out on the floor, his brother laughed and got up from his seat, grabbing his arm and dragging him.

"Good night, Mi'lady! Don't have too much fun you *belch* two...hehehe..." Balin slurred and laughed as he tugged his brother out of the hall by his foot.

Oriana giggled and took a final sip from her beer. She looked to Thorin...he was nodding off. She nudged his shoulder. "Come along, we are going for a walk. You need fresh air." She said as she stood up, holding out her hand for him.

He looked at her, his eyes wide. He looked at her hand, smooth and soft looking. He really was drunk. Thorin reached out slowly and took her hand. He stood up and left the Great Hall with her.

***

They walked out to the ramparts of the main gate. It was night, the stars above were clear. Thorin let out a heavy sigh, then breathed deeply of the crisp autumn air.

"You must be happy out here...seeing the stars like this. They are sacred to your people, no?" He asked, his expression was hazy, like he was in a daze.

Oriana watched him stumble back against a pillar and slide down to the ground. She giggled and sighed, sitting beside him. "Your majesty, you are drunk." She giggled and he chuckled. He was quite bubbly.

"I never got that dance...there will be tomorrow night I suppose." He said, sounding disappointed.

"You've succeeded in one goal, mellon nin." Oriana said as her lips curled up into a small smile. He looked over to her, his eyes widened at the sight.

In that moment...he swore that he was dreaming. Her snow white hair glowed in the moonlight...her eyes shined. He couldn't begin to put her smile into words. "Beautiful..." He murmured and she grinned, a blush dusting over her features, looking away in a bashful moment.

"No...I am hardly anything to look at. My mother is far fairer...or even my niece. I am unworthy of such a word." She gasped slightly as she spoke. No man had ever been so direct with her.

"Thinking yourself unworthy makes you embody the term...you are a beauty so fair. I am the one unworthy of your kind company." He said, subconsciously taking her soft hand in his larger, calloused one.

"Surely you cannot mean such a thing, Thorin. We've only just met...and you're a dwarf. Do you not fancy women of your own kind?" She asked.

Thorin was confused. "Do you truly believe that you are not beautiful? I would not lie. A fair a thing as you, the lady before me who-...who can out drink the best warriors of Erebor! Yet you speak to me at all...how could I not see you for what you are? You're pure, like a vein of Mithril in stone...untouched, but gleaming in perfection." His eyes became hopeful and saddened...doubt filled his mind. That she could even think of him.

Oriana saw this in him. She squeezed his hand a bit, hoping to reassure him. "Thorin, I have only known you for a single day...but you speak to me like it is love that you seek. How much have you had to drink?" She laughed lightly, he did as well, looking up at the sky.

"Then I suppose this is only a dream? Imagine me...a Prince of Erebor, falling for an elf maiden of snow white hair, a Princess of all things. I will not lie, my Lady. If I were born to one of your kind...I-" Oriana cut him off.

She moved her hand, cupping his right cheek as she sat on his left side. She kissed his left temple. "You are grand the way you are, Thorin. But I beseech you...speak to me when you're sober." She said softly before standing up, he reluctantly returned her hand to her.

She was at the top of the stairs when he called out to her. "Oriana!" He called, still sitting against his pillar. She looked back to him. He smiled with hope. "If I still love you when I'm sober, might I steal a kiss from the fair Princess...? Or does her heart belong to another?" He asked, his voice slurred a bit.

Oriana blushed all the way to the tips of her pointed ears. She looked away. "I belong to no man, Thorin...I shall see you tomorrow for that dance." She said bashfully and quickly walked away.

Thorin let a bubbly chuckle escape his chest, a grin on his face as he looked up at the stars. "Mahal, you have blessed me with even the sight of her radiance...it is worse than a curse, yet I want it...I want her to be mine." He prayed to his Goddess quietly.

Thorin gets quite happy when he's drunk, does he not?