“Don't look like that,” Dis scolded with a wag of her finger. Náriel pouted and looked at her simply. “It's only fair, come, we must go. Let them have one last hurrah.”
“Hurrah.” Tauriel whispered and looked to Náriel. Náriel looked as lost as she did. “Where do you propose on going, Lady Dis?” Náriel had to try and not laugh over Tauriel layering on the politeness.
Dis narrowed her eyes at the auburn haired Elf and coughed awkwardly. “There are parts of Dale which are up for habitants. And it's only for one night, so don't look at me like that!” Dis said while pointing this time at Náriel's expression.
Náriel kicked her feet against the stone beneath her. She and Thorin hadn't that long parted ways. She was trying to figure out his words. Both, both ceremonies was something she could not quite grasp. She had found Tauriel and confided in her the confusion she was feeling. Tauriel seemed slightly lost for words too.
Náriel and Tauriel were deep in conversation in comparing what the two ceremonies would be like only for Dis to pop up and interject. The two Elves looked at her with uncertain looks, even more so when she declared they were to leave Erebor.
Thus bringing them – mainly Dis – to the problem at hand; trying to get Náriel to leave.
“I suppose,” Tauriel had picked up the conversation again. “It would only be right.” Náriel looked up at her. Tauriel smiled slowly. “Is it not a Mortal tradition that it is bad luck to see each other before the big day? You two have already broken that rule.”
Dis scoffed at this, “We don't believe in such things.”
“And nor do we.” Tauriel quickly replied. “I'm merely saying, the Men of both Dale and Lake Town would find it fit to comment.”
Náriel looked between the two as they commenced a strained conversation. With a sigh she hung her head. On the face of things they seemed to get along. But it was clear that they secretly and evidently didn't.
“I think we've all had enough bad luck.” Náriel's voice cut their conversation short, they both looked to her as she looked up from the floor. Looking between them she sighed, again. She was doing too much sighing she discovered. “Being parted, being chased out, separated, locked away, fighting, battles, Orcs...Dragons...” Náriel trailed off with a roll of her eyes. “That's too much bad luck for two people to have already. I don't believe we can have anymore.”
“Don't go tainting it!” Dis exclaimed, though she didn't seem so superstitious a moment ago, it seemed she was slightly superstitious.
Náriel smiled and gestured to the corridor behind her. “To Dale?”
Tauriel rolled her eyes, “It would be easy to travel with the Elven Guard from there.” She didn't exactly wish to travel over on a small barge first thing tomorrow morning. Or even this evening.
“And my uncle.” Náriel piped up, and looked to her friend. He was down in Dale, seemingly inhabiting one of the finished buildings.
“And the guests?” Tauriel said awkwardly. The two looked at each other. “Never come across a wedding procession, I must admit.”
Looking to Dis when she let out a laugh, they looked to her waving a hand at them. “Such processions are normal in our culture.”
Náriel looked to Tauriel, Tauriel just nodded. This was perhaps one such thing Náriel had commented on earlier on how the two cultures differed. She really was struggling to come to terms with it. She couldn't do anything though, it seemed Thorin had it all sorted out, or at least she presumed he did. This caused her to shudder and let out a groan.
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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...