There was a distant sense of deja vu at the sight of the Elven host approaching Erebor. Instead of being led straight to a hall, instead they were redirected and walked towards one of the gardens which were within the Mountain.
Clean stone pathways led through sudden crisp green plants and sprouting grass which was slowly but surely growing back. Light came through and cast the whole area in a warm yellow glow. Amongst the warm glow of the rising sun, and the regrowth of the plant life, there sat or stood a vast number of people.
Being led down the narrow aisle Náriel naturally couldn't help but turn her head every which way to see the faces which surrounded her. Staring straight ahead was asking too much clearly for her curiosity.
It was through this moment of scanning over the faces that her eyes eventually landed on a very familiar figure. Seemingly upon sensing eyes on him – other than those gathered – Thorin turned slowly and looked towards her.
Naturally a wide happy smile appeared on her face which was retorted with in the form of a light smile. Trying to act casual when she was basically grinning was a rather hard thing for Thorin to do. And it didn't get any easier as she stopped by his side. There was a brief moment where she did look away to watch her family and friends who had walked up from Dale with her, walk over to their designated spaces and sat or stood, if they were a guard.
Thorin's eyes slowly moved away from the Elven host and frowned lightly when he caught sight of Náriel simply standing looking him up and down. “Behave.” He whispered while raising an eyebrow at her.
Náriel looked mock offended and placed a hand over her chest. “I wasn't going to say anything.” She whispered back but ended up smiling widely halfway through. “You look very handsome, may I just say.” She smirked and then jumped slightly when there was a cough from in front of her. Sliding her eyes she smiled again. “Balin,” she said quietly and looked rather confused at this point. It was perhaps the first time her smile had disappeared.
Balin smiled and shifted from foot to foot. “I will be conducting this part of things. As by right, Thrain should be the one to wed you both. But it is an honour to do it.”
“You are perhaps the oldest, wisest friend we share. It seems only right.” Náriel said quietly with a nod. Though in truth, she could see both the happiness yet sadness which Balin spoke with. Of course it bought him great happiness to have this task. Yet it was a sad affair that Thrain was not here to do it himself.
With a firm cough Balin nodded and then proceeded to – what Náriel presumed – was usual ritual speeches. There were times where he diverted into his native language, which naturally she had a brief grasp on and didn't quite follow.
“He's saying how it's a shock that we've managed to get this far.” Thorin explained in a whisper when there was a quiet chorus of chuckling behind them. He could see her confused expression from the corner of his eyes and saw only fit to explain.
“I feel somewhat inclined to agree.” Náriel flicked her eyes up to look at him and received a nod in return. Seeing as how it was very rude to talk through their own wedding they both turned their attention back to Balin.
He stood with a rather chuffed expression on his face as he looked from the white lace dress wearing Elf, to the royal blue clad Dwarf who was his King, but foremostly his friend. “If you please,” he gestured to them.
Following Thorin's lead, Náriel turned and looked at him. Seeing as how he held his hands out to her, she simply reached out and slipped her hands into his. Looking from their hands to Balin they watched as a moment of pride flicked across his face before giving a sharp nod.
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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...