Calm The Fire: 147

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With a quiet sigh of annoyance, Náriel reached over her shoulder and shooed away whatever that persistent feeling was. Though in truth in the back of her mind she could already figure. It had already been a long standing thing of both Thorin's and hers. It was one way to definitely wake someone up. And in all honesty, she didn't wholly appreciate it at the moment.

Needless to say as soon as they left the balcony the previous evening they'd both been dragged back into either animated conversations, on Thorin's side of things, or dancing. Náriel cursed in her half asleep state. What was it with people and dancing? She had never honestly danced so much in her life. She liked dancing, but now she felt like she had grown a certain disdain for it.

Thankfully Thranduil had intervened when he could see Náriel slowly but surely losing her patience. He had guided her over to where Legolas and himself were seated as well as numerous other Elves. She found some solace in this safety, but yet Dis managed to find a way to intervene on this sudden safety. She though had politely sat and tried to socialise with the Elves. Which caused both Legolas and herself to exchange a look when Dis flatly tried talking to Thranduil.

It was an experience. That was all the cousins could amount to. It was truly an experience to see. Dis never seemed to fail on her skills of talking, no matter if the other person in the conversation didn't wholly wish to speak back.

With another sigh she hit over her shoulder and winced when her pathetically made fist actually made contact. She couldn't help but let out a snigger at this. Though this sudden laughter warranted her in actually properly laughing when she got promptly poked in the sides.

“Back off!” She laughed and pushed Thorin away. “Why do you wake me up? What is it? I was comfortable and content and now...”


“Not angry.” Náriel huffed and crossed her arms while laying back down and nestling in the pillows and covers. “Just irritated.”

“That's close enough to angry.” Thorin replied while leaning his head against his hand as he propped himself up on his elbow and looked to her. She opened her eyes slightly and looked up at him. “It's almost noon.” This caused her to raise an eyebrow. “I didn't think you'd appreciate being left to sleep all day and wake later on in the evening, starving hungry and over tired.”

Náriel smiled. “Through your little quest, I don't think starving and being over tired can ever bother me again. I learnt how to quickly ignore both.”

“Gloating?” Thorin smirked and rubbed the sleep from his eyes with his spare hand.

Náriel rolled onto her stomach and crossed her arms on the pillows. Leaning her chin against her arms she looked to him. “Perhaps, just a little bit. It's not my fault that Elves are much more tolerant and adaptable to ignoring minor things.” This caused Thorin to sharply look at her and for her to laugh in return. “Apologies, dearest.” She smiled and shut her eyes again. She really did just wish to sleep. Regardless of the time. The prospect of being hungry and over tired didn't bother her. She had sleep to catch up on. “Stop it!” She laughed and jolted when a finger rather quickly ran down her spine. The sudden action caused her to become alert and to shot a look to him.

Thorin just played ignorant and pushed himself to sit and stretch his arms out in front of him. He looked down at Náriel with a sidewards look though when she'd reached up and trailed her fingers across a small collection of criss crossed scars. He was all healed now, but the marks of battle still remained, and they would always be there, he had accepted that quite easily. But Náriel didn't seem to accept it as easily. He didn't wish to come across as sounding like a vain person, but her kin were seemingly flawless appearance wise. Perhaps scarring was something which they didn't appreciate, or fully accept like other species inhabiting Middle-Earth. It was slightly confusing. She did anything possible to cover the scar which ran along her neck. But in some regards he was a little grateful of that. He disliked seeing the mark which Azog had left on her.

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