Sitting in a well sunlit room, Náriel looked up at the Healer in front of her. She busied herself around, crushing herbs in a bowl and adding water when needed.
Slowly but surely the camp had been taken down. Those who were still making a living up there had slowly moved back down to Lake Town. Though in truth this wasn't an easy place to try and temporarily live in. Lake Town was still in a sorry state. Though most of the rubble had been moved aside and disposed of. The bridges were starting to get rebuilt. And the buildings which had been worse hit by Smaug were being rebuilt and steadied by scaffolding.
Needless to say Náriel was not alone with being taken to Lake Town. The rest of her friends had been bought down too. Bilbo seemed more than happy to leave the desolate land surrounding the Lonely Mountain. Though when his feet touched solid ground and he stood back in Lake Town he wasn't too sure which he would rather temporarily stay in.
While the company were over in Lake Town so was Bard who had given the treasure which Thorin presented to him for the sake of the ruined town to the Master. The Master in turn looked greedily upon the shining content of the sack which resulted in Bard rolling his eyes and turning away. He moved to his home and was greeted by his children who had been with a family friend. But upon hearing their father returning they'd returned to their home to greet him.
"What's your name?" Náriel asked eventually. The silence of the building was getting to her. The woman kept looking at her and then to the herbs and then back again.
"Do you need help, Greta?" Náriel asked while leaning back in the chair she was sitting in.
"No, no, I'm fine." Greta smiled and walked slowly over. Putting the herbs and bowl of crushed herb paste on the table she looked to Náriel. She just warily smiled. The woman before her was nervous. For some odd reason Náriel wasn't sure of. She was just like any other of the injured. Nothing different and no one in need of special attention.
Hearing a knock on the door Greta paused in cutting away at the bandage on Náriel's hand to turn and see the door open. "Do you mind?" Greta asked politely.
"I think she means: Thorin, can I help you?" Náriel teased and laughed at Greta's expression.
"No," Thorin replied and walked in, he shut the door behind him and sat down next to Náriel.
Greta looked from one to the other and shook her head slowly.
"Greta, just...continue as if he's not here. He's just being nosy." Náriel grinned and suffered a glare being sent her way by Thorin. She smiled and reached up to put a hand against his cheek. "Worried?"
"Curious." He said though he did look worried. He didn't know of the extent of her injuries. He had yet to have his bandages changed. But upon hearing Náriel's were being taken off he couldn't help but walk through the ruined streets to find the small house which was being used by one of the Healers.
Greta coughed awkwardly. They both looked up at the confused woman. "May I?" She lifted up the scissors and got a nod from Náriel. Holding her hand out on the table she watched as the bandages were cut away. Greta pushed the bandages away from her hand. Picking up a soft wad of material she placed it in the bowl of water and carefully took to cleaning the cut.
Thorin peered over Náriel's arm to look at her hand. A pierced mark was all that remained. Pink and still sore looking. But it was closed. He looked up at Greta as she hummed, he looked to Náriel as she raised an eyebrow.
"What is it?" He asked. He didn't understand the confused looks which flitted over both female's faces.
"Nothing, nothing honestly." Greta said while reaching for some clean bandages.
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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...