Having tentative knocking on his door, Thorin looked slowly up and over to it. No one quietly knocked like that, no Dwarf he knew could be so quiet. Standing up he straightened out his dark blue tunic before putting his hands loosely in his trouser pockets as he made his way over to the door, which by now had stopped getting knocked against.
Putting his hand against the handle, slowly he opened it. Staring out he looked around the door frame. Whoever was out here was gone now. Tilting his head to the side he saw the tail end of white which went around the end of the corridor. Stepping out he walked slowly at first but then picked up his pace.
Turning the corner he stopped, Náriel was blissfully walking down the corridor with her arms loosely by her sides. Behind her rippled a trail of white, which seemed to glow in the moonlight which was coming through the large windows. The silver light of the moon seemed to make it seem like she was glowing. A faint star walking through a darkened corridor, and here he was just watching her get further away.
She stopped and turned, smiling she tilted her head to the side. “Na vedui!” She exclaimed, turning she swept the trail of her dress out of her way and walked towards him.
Thorin frowned lightly, he didn't know what she had said. Yet he guess it wasn't anything bad, she still walked smiling lightly, she didn't look distressed as he thought she would after speaking with her uncle.
Stopping in front of him she entwined her hands together. “Good evening,” she inclined her head and smiled up at him.
Returning the favour, Thorin looked up at her. “Evening.” Tilting his head to the side, he looked at the darkened corridor behind her. “Where are you going?”
“Well,” Náriel pushed a lock of hair over her ear and trailed her fingers over it. “You did not answer.”
Náriel smiled, “I thought I should go, I didn't wish to keep knocking in case you were asleep.” She held up a hand and shook her head slowly. “It is fine, no apologies needed.” Smiling she lowered her hand and looked up at him.
Thorin turned and gestured back to the corridor. Náriel stepped in line with him as they started to walk back the way they came. “How did it go?” At this Náriel stopped walking, Thorin looked over her puzzled expression, he thought the worse until she smiled widely and looked up at him.
“He consented.” She said.
Thorin double took, much like herself, he couldn't quite believe what he had heard. He got pulled back to reality when a hand gently laid itself against his cheek.
“You were lost in thought.” Náriel said while moving past him and looking up when he suddenly reappeared by her side.
“Did I hear right?”
This caused a laugh to come from her. “I thought the same!” She exclaimed and shook her head. “You heard correctly though.” She confirmed and laughed when she suddenly found herself lifted up and spun around. “Leithio nin!” She laughed yet had to grip onto his shoulders as Thorin seemed to refuse to let her go. Leaning back she looked down at him, brushing dark strands of hair out of his face, she smiled and nudged her forehead against his. Frowning suddenly she looked at him, placing her hand against his forehead, she sighed. “You feel like you're burning up.” Náriel got placed back down on solid floor. Frowning she shook her head. “You didn't immediately change and dry up when we returned earlier did you?”
“I'll be fine,” he said while cupping her face in his hands. “Don't worry.”
Náriel rolled her eyes, “Never doubt the resilience of Dwarves.” This caused him to smile and give a slow nod. Reaching up she wrapped her arms around his waist and leant her head against his shoulder.
Content sleep got suddenly ripped away by furious knocking. Náriel shot up and with sleepy eyes stared towards the door. Quickly climbing out of her bed she walked over and opened it. Rubbing her eyes she looked bemused at the sight of a Dwarvish lady standing in front of her.
“Evening, how can I help you?” Náriel asked politely, while trying not to yawn.
“Evening, Princess,” the woman bowed and looked up at her. “Ruvsá at your service,” she introduced herself while Náriel took to rubbing her eyes, she nodded tentatively though at the sound of her name.
“It's good to meet you, Ruvsá, what's wrong?”
“It's Prince Thorin, my Lady,” Ruvsá said urgently, now that Náriel was more alert she could see the worried expression on Ruvsá's face.
“What's he done?” Náriel frowned.
“It's not what he's done.”
“What's happened to him then?” Náriel frowned impatiently. She had never known Dwarves to take their time to get to the point of something. Ruvsá had after all woken her up clearly because of an urgent matter, and here she was idly flitting around the subject.
“He is unwell.”
Náriel frowned up at the ceiling and muttered a few words in her native tongue before looking back at a confused Ruvsá. “Never doubt the resilience of Dwarves, he is feverish...I presume? I did say earlier when we last saw each other! Did he not listen? Clearly not.” Náriel turned back to her room, grabbed her dressing gown which was of a thick material of the shade of burgundy. Once she had pulled it on she gestured to the corridor before them. “Take me to him, I presume you being here is because he's asking for me?”
“That is correct.” Ruvsá confirmed while hurrying on down the corridor. Náriel sighed and walked briskly after her. When they had arrived at Thorin's chambers, Náriel sighed again and walked slowly over to the bed.
Thorin laid motionless, Náriel briefly glanced at Ruvsá as she exited with a quick bow. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she reached out and placed her hand against forehead. Shaking her head she frowned lightly. “Cund vuin,” she whispered, “Perhaps beloved Prince isn't right, how about silly Prince?” Náriel commented quietly. She looked to the side at the fire which flickered brightly, if anything the light of it made him look paler and perhaps more ill than he actually was. Slowly and seemingly with an effort his chest rose and fell with each breath he took. His expression was one of trouble, he clearly wasn't content in his fever induced sleep.
“I prefer the first one.” Thorin said heavily while opening his eyes.
“I prefer the second, I think it is the more literal.” Náriel whispered yet reached down and held onto his hand lightly. “How do you feel?”
Thorin fidgeted and seemed to be trying to sit up, only she stopped him by placing her other hand on his shoulder. “I've felt better.”
Náriel raised an eyebrow. “When we parted ways after returning surely I thought you'd do exactly as your grandfather said.” Thorin just blankly looked at her, not taking too kindly to hearing a lecture, not at this point in time. Smiling she placed her spare hand over his and patted it gently. “I do not mean to nag, but that is why you are unwell. I have full confidence that you shall recover. Though my belief in your Dwarfish resilience has faltered...slightly.” This caused him to roll his eyes. This just caused Náriel to smile more. “You asked for me.”
“And here you are.”
“Here I am.” Náriel confirmed with a nod.
At last – Na vedui!
Release me – Leithio nin
Beloved prince – Cund vuin
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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...