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The threshold opened to reveal men, women, children, dwarves and elves dressed in fine clothings she could only deduce are ones that they've either retrieved from the dwarves' keep or the elves' courtesy.
Elegant dresses, robes and tunics of every shade of velvety brown, gold, burgundy and green were majority of what everyone wore. Although there is also the occasional ethereal silver and pale blue from the elves here and there.
Nevertheless, it didn't change the fact that all eyes were on her when she entered the gargantuan doors of Erebor's grand hall.
Dressed in a royal blue velvet tunic that is cut just above her ankles, revealing only the chest part as well as the ends of the skirt of her sparkling powder blue dress underneath, the edges of her tunic and her belt being a thick and lustrous golden fabric. Celine had her thick midnight blue locks tied up in an intricate side bun.
To say that she had everyone else's attention fixed solely on her open arrival would be an understatement since everyone had openly shown their fascination with her captivating appearance by clapping and whispering amongst themselves in awe.
Lady Galadriel could never have been prouder of her taste in clothes for her dearest child. Even though Celine didn't actually know how on earth her mentor had come up with this set of particular clothes, it is apparently better than having to wear her only other pair of clothes which so happens to be currently soiled to the brim in blood and ashes.
She tried not to flinch and trip on her own boots at the thought. Keeping the loathsome memory at bay, she tried to think of a dozen more irrelevant things like: at least she get to keep her footwear, well at least a part of it that wasn't turned into the same shade that would perfectly go well with her clothes.
And before she could even so much as touch whatever last recollection she had in her mind to keep herself from thinking about all of the eyes that were watching her every movement, Thorin Oakenshield had cut through the crowd beginning to form in front of her with all the authority of a king and to everyone's surprise, had taken one of her silk white gloved hands in his and kissed the back of it as he knelt right in front of her.
"I owe you the blood and allegiance of Durin's folk, my dearest lady. The kingdom of Erebor shall forever be indebted to you and in accordance to it, we will all be eternally at your service."
One thing that her mentor had taught her about, a dwarf's oath -especially that of royalty- is as tenacious as the strongest metal their kind had ever and would ever forge.
And that once they offer it, you accept it graciously.
Celine couldn't help the blush that spread across her cheeks, she grew incredibly faint hearted ever since she wore this thing. She had a rather unpleasant history with these troublesome set of clothes.
Of course, it had to be the dress and not the horribly attractive dwarf king kneeling in front of her.
'Wait?! Kneeling? He's still kneeling?'
"I.. U-uh, appreciate it, very much so, Mister ermm.." She then suddenly bends down so she was at his level and whispers an urgent and hushed, "what do I call you now, Thorin?" Covering a side of her face with her freehand as if it would help contain her embarrassment between the two of them alone.
The dwarf chuckles and stands back up, knowing that such formalities isn't really needed anymore and that the priestess was simply growing more and more agitated as they keep this front up. He then swings his arm around her shoulders -since she's barely even taller than him at all- and upon his request, a mug of ale was now on his vacant hand.
He raises it up and calls out, "A toast for the dearest priestess who had saved Durin's line and to whom we owe majority of our lives to!"
The whole threshold erupts into deafening cheers, claps, and clinking of glass against glass. The people of Laketown were the first to crowd around her as they took turns on squeezing her hands and thanking her with tears on their eyes. From the elderly to the women, tiny children and men whom she didn't even remember helping.
As she was about to doubt the credibility of their praises, one had spoken up,
"Thank you, priestess! If it weren't for you then I would no longer be able to see my sons and daughter!" This particular man had fallen to his knees with his children in his arms and Celine could really not think of anything else but to get them back to their feet because that must have hurt.
"P-please, I only did what I was set out to do." She knelt down to their level and cautiously helped the family up. As she was about to move along with Thorin, the little girl from the family wrapped her little limbs around her waist and she was abruptly forced to stop.
"Seems like they are fond of you," the same deep wonted voice she half-yearned and half-feared to hear came from her other side.
She didn't even need to notice how half of Thorin's mirth died out and turned into stiffness as he lead her away from the crowd after she kissed the little girl's forehead and told her that she could be anyone she wanted to be when she grew up.
Apparently, the girl wanted to be just like her.
And Celine wishes her the best. Perhaps her life, sans the war and the unrequited feelings would better suit the girl.
A sigh escapes her lips.
The dwarf was quick to notice her troubles and purposefully steered her away from the direction of the elf.
Luckily enough, the clusters of dwarves, elves and villagers that accumulated around them provided enough cover for the two of them.
As they found a certain spot on a column near the other Durin's folk, Thorin began a whispered, "You are not obligated to talk to him, my lady." Of course he would know.
Celine shook her head as she tried to laugh it off and prevent the topic from getting any more depressing, "Why suddenly address me as 'my lady'? Last time I checked, you called me a 'stubbornly naive little girl' and honestly speaking, I think that suits me better." She patted his arm and remembered that they almost lost him to Azog too and so she ended up full-on hugging him instead.
This caught the king by surprise, but it didn't take long before his laughter bellowed as he returned the hug, "It would take more than that orc filth to take me down, especially when I have a priestess on my side!"
"Oh hush now, I am barely a priestess, Thorin!" She playfully punched his chest and pulled away. She could remember having a sword drilled into her abdomen -the one that should've been for Thorin- but she could never recall any searing pain back then. There was only blood and nothing more.
Maybe she'd check that out later.
"There! Now you know what to call me!" Thorin was still chuckling and Celine found it horribly infectious as she allowed herself a few giggles of her own.
After a few moments, one bluenette head shook in sudden realization, "It is not as if I have forgotten your name, Thorin. It's just that, it's quite surprising how war could change the perception of everyone else who had been involved. I mean, of course there would be mourning for harrowing loss, but seeing these people, those who are left behind, trying their best to keep moving forward. To rise from the ashes and build themselves up from what is left of them. It's astounding." She breathed, before looking around at all the cheers and jolly faces of everyone else that is directed at her, "Not to mention the amount of recognition you get once you were successfully able to fend for not only yourself but others as well."
"I assume this is the first war you have gotten yourself involved in?" She nodded and Thorin shook his head in disbelief, "You've fought incredibly well for a first timer." He leaned his back on the wall opposite from where she stood.
"Well unlike you, I barely even lived for nineteen years." Celine crossed her arms in front of her chest defensively, trying her hardest not to pout at the patronizing tone the dwarf had just used.
Watery blue eyes widened in bewilderment, "Nineteen years?!" He exclaimed before gathering his composure and excusing himself for the sudden outburst.
"Nineteen years, yes." She snickered and walked towards him so they both leaned back on the same wall, "Is it that hard to believe, Mister King under the mountain?" She rose an elegant brow teasingly upwards.
Thorin snorted, "Not entirely, seeing that you do have the arrogance of a child," which of course earned him a punch in the gut to which he just replied with a rather pained batch of laughter.
Celine only watched the dwarven king chortle from beside her in comfortable silence, at least she momentarily have something to take her mind off of grieving since despite of all the lives she saved she wasn't able to...
Before a tear could even so much as be thought about, Thorin had reached in and quickly retrieved something out of his thick layers of kingly robes.
Whatever it was, he casually slipped underneath a few strands of her hair -particularly where the braids of her bun connected- and a soft click signified it being a hair clip of some sorts.
Thorin had a bit of a trouble placing the hair pin seeing as how his large hands are simply built for swords and not tasks as delicate as this. Still, he was successfully able to place it on her gloriously stunning blue locks, albeit clumsily at that.
It took a couple of minutes for Celine to react to the object placed on her hair, and when she did, she carefully reached one hand up to inspect the cold and slightly weighty thing. She could feel the facets of different gems, the shape of a couple of roses formed in half a crown, and the smooth and cool surface from where it was all embedded in.
Seeing that the girl was too awestrucked to even mutter a single word aside from a quiet gasp of surprise, the dwarf took it as his cue to explain himself, "I saw it while I was searching for the elven king's jewels and immediately thought of how it would not suit anyone better than you." He whispered calmly even as his heart hammered awkwardly against his chest. It was just a gift, a token of their friendship -very much like the mithril suit he had given Bilbo.
'Why the hell am I so damned nervous whenever I'm giving out gifts?!' He inwardly face-palmed.
"Please don't tell me it's one of King Thranduil's-"
And it was as if he just suddenly saw Smaug rise up from between them, "Wait! What? No!" He answered defensively, brows furrowed and face contorted in distaste, "I already had enough of the elves complaining that we dwarves steal things from them."
Celine found herself openly giggling at the flustered dwarf beside her. It was actually too much that she ended up bending over and clutching her stomach as she used one hand to reach up and cling on the thick layers of clothing covering the king's arm for support.
"Oh dear valars! That was just priceless! You should have seen your face, Thorin!" She slapped her knees and immediately sobered at the mild glare the king had directed at her. Raising her hands in mock-surrender, she averted her gaze to the side and backed a bit.
That was when she hit a rather sturdy thing that was definitely not a wall.
"You elves are incredibly persistent, aren't you?"
And it finally came down to her that Thorin's glare was never intended for her in the first place...
"Celine, may we talk?"
And how could she even begin to refuse that voice.
Thorin heaved an audible sigh and walked towards them, giving the girl one last consoling pat on the head -careful not to ruin her hair- and a rueful smile as he passed by,
"I wish you luck, child!" He called out once he was out of her line of sight.
And maybe that is exactly what she needed.
Especially with what she had seen upon turning around.
-----☆To be continued