Sneaking about the camp in the dead of night was an easy task to do. No one was really up and about in the early hours of the morning. A few guards had been positioned just in case any Goblins or Orcs or even Wargs were still hanging around. But for the most part, the camp was silent.
It was this silence which Náriel found herself oddly enjoying while sitting slowly on the edge of Thorin's bed again. “Rest he says, rest...not that I am choosing to ignore my uncle, but I think I’m more than able to rest and sit here, don't you think?” She whispered while reaching out and holding onto his hand. Giving a sigh she looked about the tent. It didn't differ from the one she and Bilbo shared. Canvas bed, a trunk, a few candles and lanterns were dotted about but these weren't lit. Which she was thankful of because her shadow would be flickering on the canvas sheeting which made up the tent walls.
“Though I have to admit I feel you both may agree at this point in time.” Náriel mumbled thoughtfully. Though they differed greatly in character she was rather sure that both Thorin and Thranduil would agree to pester her about resting. It was something which made her laugh. She had hoped they'd get along one day, maybe this could have been the thing to make common ground appear?
Shaking her head slowly she sighed. “I don't think you'd agree with my thoughts right now.” She admitted. Somehow she knew Thorin would typically disagree. She dreaded to think what her uncle would say about the matter. Giving a shrug she looked over her shoulder when she heard footsteps. Tensing she frowned and watched the shadowed form of a guard walk past.
Sighing she reached up and placed her hand against his cheek. Even through the bandage she could feel the warmth which was radiating off of him. Giving a sudden jolt she shot up and removed one of the throws gently. Sitting back down she held onto his hand again.
Going from hot to cold were feverish signs, and they didn't bode well with her. Náriel blinked and looked down at her own hands. Looking slowly up she pondered. Kíli was shot with an arrow which was poisoned, he had come through it, but presuming all weapons the enemy used in the battle were poisoned...she shuddered to think of all the suffering that'd cause. But it'd also explain Thorin's feverish signs. His body was clearly fighting against whatever illness was travelling through it.
Yawning quietly she managed with great skill to lay down by his side. Wrapping both her arms gently around his she continued to hold onto his hand. “I don't care, I’m staying. That's the only way I’m going to get rest is if I’m with you.” She looked up at him and frowned. It was strange speaking to someone who she wasn't sure could even hear her. She figured it wouldn't hurt talking to him though, just in case he could.
Resting her head gently against his shoulder she made sure to avoid resting against any bandages and shut her eyes slowly. For the first time since waking up after her four day slumber, she felt comfortable enough to return to sleep. She did feel a small pang of guilt for Bilbo who was still sleeping in their tent. No sooner had she laid down to go to sleep did she lay silently and wait for him to drift off, along with the rest of the camp. Once she was sure everyone was asleep she had come here. Giving a shrug she settled back down, she'd apologise profusely tomorrow if needs be.
Consciousness was a strange thing which seemed to ebb slowly, dissipate and solidify, and then disappear completely. It was like waking from a deep sleep. The wanting to wake, your body telling you to wake up, get up and move around. Yet the mind saying no. Refusing to seemingly comply with the body's want and wishes.
It was this conflict which greeted Thorin first. This was quickly followed by dull pain. But the more his mind focused on this the more the pain seemed to double and become more confirmed. He was in pain. A lot of pain, his chest tightened as he struggled to breathe. He tried reaching up to put a hand to his chest to make sure he was all intact, because it really felt like a part of him was missing with this burning sensation which was travelling through him.
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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...