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Turning, Thorin looked back the way they both had previously came. "You said you wished to see the splendour of Erebor," his voice caused Náriel to look up at him. Stepping to the side he fell into line beside her. He lifted his arm up and offered it to her. "Where would you like to go?"

A sudden wide smile appeared on her face. She eagerly linked her arm with his. "You would play guide, for me?"

"I would," he looked back to the mountain and started to walk slowly. Náriel's strides were smaller than his yet she had no problem keeping up with him. Both of them walked arm in arm to the gates of the Lonely Mountain. They were both oblivious however to the Elvenking watching them from up high on one of the balconies. His gaze followed them slowly as they grew closer to the gates. His hand which was resting casually against the railing tightened slowly as they disappeared from his line of sight.

Once they were both back within the confines of the mountain, Thorin looked to Náriel. "Where would you like to go?" He asked again, she hadn't exactly answered him the first time. She seemed deep in thought of a destination though.

"I have never been given the choice to choose where we end up." Náriel looked up to the high ceilings. "I can really choose?" She seemed to want clarification over this.

He bowed his head, "Of course." He replied. "You are the one who wishes to see our great city. So it is only right that you choose where we start."

Her eyes narrowed at this as she seemed to think more of a destination, Thorin rolled his eyes. Surely she was putting a little too much thought into this? Surely it wasn't that hard to think up a destination for the start of her tour? Eventually, Náriel's eyes seemed to suddenly brighten as she looked to him. "Prince, are you in possession of a library?"

"Perhaps," he said slowly purposely teasing her. Giving her arm a slight tug he led her down a long corridor. "You enjoy reading, Princess?"

Náriel nodded enthusiastically. "I do! There are so many tales in books. So many incredible recounts of adventures. I read many such things in the library back home. I often found that there were too many amazing tales for me to take in. I got sidetracked a lot by all the intriguing things."

"Anything in particular which caught your attention?"

Náriel shook her head slowly. "Nothing specific. I'm afraid to say I'm just one of those people who wander aimlessly picking up any book. I flick through it, if it interests me I continue to read, if not then...well, you understand where I'm going with this." Náriel smiled and looked up at him quickly. He caught her gaze and gave a slow nod. It seemed that talking about such things interested her greatly.

Making their way through the winding halls and corridors they eventually reached the library. Náriel was almost instantly impressed. How could she not be? The first thing which greeted her was the tall doors. They were so finely crafted, she couldn't help it. She slipped her arm out from Thorin's and walked over. Reaching out she placed her hand against the door. Trailing her hand down she tapped the marble handles. There was an imprint on the handle which she presumed was the seal of King Thrór. Stepping back her eyes looked over the golden framework, tilting her head to the side her eyes narrowed at the dwarven runes which were etched into it. She couldn't read the runes, so she was unable to decipher what exactly it was that was written. The guards which were standing present glanced at her curiously before looking to their Prince. Thorin just stood watching curiously too. Turning suddenly she stepped back beside him, she was still smiling happily. The guards slowly opened the doors and allowed them entrance into the room.

"Oh..." Náriel's voice trailed off quietly. Her eyes widened in amazement at the sight before her. Bookcases stood carved from the stone of the Mountain. They lined the room, there was rows of them. Náriel tried to take them all in, but she found something was often taking her attention away. Much like the door, there were runes engraved into the shelves too. Náriel tilted her head to the side as she eyed up the lines and lines of leather bound books. There were so many of them. All of different sizes, colours, width and length. Some had pages fitting perfectly into the covers, others had pages sticking slightly ajar with age.

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