How did it come to this? Náriel's eyes stared up at the darkened sky above her. Tilting her head to the side caused a squelching noise to come from behind her.
“Náriel? Náriel?!” Thorin said calmly and then ended up exclaiming her name when she hadn't answered him. “Are you all right?”
Still Náriel laid, unmoving. One minute she had been walking by his side, laughing over the teasing Frerin was sending Thorin's way, the next she was flat on her back laying in mud, and water. The paved streets had slowly dwindled and disappeared and they were now walking back towards the Mountain. Needless to say a rather slick patch of mud had appeared, and considering she was paying more attention on laughing at the two Princes, she wasn't paying attention to where her feet were being placed.
When she had initially started to tumble backwards she had pathetically gripped – or tried to – onto Thorin's arm. He was just out of reach of her flailing hands, not only that he was still exclaiming at Frerin, so he was a little slow to realize Náriel's literal downfall, obviously until it was too late and she was staring wide eyed upwards.
Blinking slowly she shut and opened her eyes several more times before opening them again and looking up at him. She slowly started to laugh. Quietly at first but it grew in volume. Thorin looked at her oddly, no one else would laugh at this situation he was sure of that.
“Be careful, if you get too close you shall fall also.” Náriel said while pushing herself up. She shuddered from the cold which was seeping through her clothes. Lifting her hands up she turned them around and looked at her arms. All of her was caked in thick mud. Thick cold mud. Her hair was drenched with water and mud, she shuddered again as she moved the locks of hair off of her neck.
Regardless of her warning, Thorin stepped closer and held out a hand. Náriel looked rather sorry for herself down there in the mud, looking past him she narrowed her eyes at Frerin. He was sniggering quietly to himself, Thorin shot him a look from over his shoulder.
“Oh we can't take you two anywhere without causing a scene.” He said simply with a shrug. He had every so often looked over his shoulder as they left Dale. His expression went slack, he honestly didn't wish to witness his brother and the Elf Princess sharing brief kisses. No thank you, it wasn't what he wanted.
Thorin turned to say something only to quickly swerve out of the way of a clump of mud which had been thrown from behind him. Turning slowly he looked to Náriel, she was still sitting in the mud, only now she looked rather smugly up at the two of them. Frerin wiped his sleeve down his face to remove the mud which had hit him. Thorin had to give Náriel credit, her aim was very precise.
“That isn't fair,” Frerin muttered rather sourly.
“What?” Náriel laughed while eventually getting helped to stand again. She flicked mud off of her hands and arms and tried to brush some off of her dress skirts, it didn't go too well, it was still heavily splattered on the material. She looked up at the younger male. “What? It isn't fair how? You cannot retaliate because I am female, or because I’m a Princess?”
“How about both?” Frerin mumbled still sounding rather sour. Letting out a thoughtful noise, he looked up suddenly with a grin. “I may not be able to retaliate to you directly...but that doesn't mean I can't retaliate at all.” Frerin smirked and leant down quickly to grab a handful of mud. His eyes looked towards Thorin, his in turn narrowed.
“You'll get to her through me, is that it?”
“Yes.” Frerin admitted.
“You'll regret it.” Thorin said simply while still staring at his brother with a serious expression.
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Calm The Fire (UNDER EDITING)Fanfiction
It is a little known fact that Thorin had come to dislike the race of elves; but perhaps it hasn't always been this way, maybe, just maybe, once upon a time there wasn't such high disdain held towards them. The dwarf-Prince's heart isn't as nearly a...