The dark stone corridor, lit with fiery torches was all but silent; in fact, the only real noise was the pattering of heavy booted footsteps as a member of the royal guard was hurrying his way down, short sighs coming from behind a thick dark beard as he went. The long stretching, high ceilinged corridor, with the burning bright torches were the only witnesses to him rushing. His shadow flicked over the walls as he urgently seemed to run down a flight of stone steps, reaching a whole new level of the kingdom of Erebor.
"My Lord," a little out of breath from the quick pace in which he walked, but nonetheless able to reclaim some semblance of normalcy to his tone as he spoke. Before him, seated on the large stone throne of the kingdom was Thrór, the dwarf-King was surrounded by dark, fur robes varying between grey and black. His hands leisurely rested against the arms of the stone seat as he looked to the guard with a blatant look. Recovering from the impromptu bow, the guard looked upwards at his King. "They have arrived," he said, sounding all caught up with his breath, now he stood silently for a few moments.
It was a sudden thing, visitors. Sure, dwarves visited, wanting to trade. Even some from Esgaroth, Lake-town, came and went, not that many men seemed to dare to come in; more the other way around, if they wished to trade it would be the dwarves within the Mountain going down to their town. These visitors however, were something really quite very sudden. It was all because a special day had been and gone within Erebor. It had all started within the mines; the lines of lantern light illuminating the many workers digging away in their work.
Every so often one would stop, examine their find and either choose to keep it to one side, or dispose of the faux hope of it being valuable. It was in one such occurrence that something spectacular was discovered; a lone dwarf soon found his axe striking something solid. Not stone, not anything else he knew of. Placing the axe to one side and commencing cleaning the surface to discover what he had hit, he could not believe his eyes.
The stone was like nothing he had ever seen before. It shone brighter than the sun in the sky, and stars in the night sky, it had all manners of colours swirling together within it. There was nothing that could compare to the light in which this stone radiated, it was truly something. This stone was special, it was special and it was important, that much was clear. The entrancing stone was the heart of the Mountain; the dwarves had come to name it the Arkenstone. Seeing as what it was, it was presented to Thrór, he then went on to name it the King's Jewel. It was truly befitting such a title considering the magnitude of it.
As it was something special, news of the find had spread. News got around rather fast despite the distance between neighbours. The stone had barely been free from the rock which confined it before news reached Thrór that a small company of elves from the Woodland Realm were drawing near. Elves rarely visited Erebor, let alone ones from somewhere such as there. It was a surprise, they were expected any day, and it seemed that today was the day. Luckily all things had been prepared for their arrival.
Usually, if it was just a fleeting visit there would be no need for such a fuss; however, Thrór had been alerted to the Elvenking Thranduil being amongst the group. This made things even more surprising considering he was not one for leaving his kingdom lightly. Considering the distance was relatively short between Erebor and the Woodland Realm, everyone knew that it would only be a day or so before they arrived. That gave everyone enough time to rush and get things ready and prepared. It seemed everything paid off well, timing wise.
Considering who he was to greet, Thrór called upon his son, Prince Thràin, and his grandson, Prince Thorin to join the meeting. It was only fair, Thrór was not to know who Thranduil was bringing with him. The three descendants of Durin made for an impressive line up as the small group made their way across the stone pathway that led towards the throne. Of course, the Arkenstone shining brightly above Thrór's head was an instant attention grabber, especially now that it sat within the throne itself.
The dwarf-King sat with his son to the left, and his grandson to the right, three pairs of eyes looked towards the tall, slender figures who seemed to shine within the low light. The six figures eventually came to a stop in their finery. Regardless of them being clothes to travel in, they were still created with such skill that how could there be a difference between these and the others they bought with them? The air was silent, it wasn't like the elves had even made a footfall, it was as if they had merely glided along to come to stand before the King under the Mountain.
Not encountering many elves, Thorin couldn't be the more curious of the three. He leaned to the side slightly to come to rest beside his grandfather more. "This is most unexpected." He said quietly, and guardedly, mainly because he did not know how well the small group could hear him, even though he was basically whispering.
Believing his grandson was mainly hinting at the fact that the Elvenking was present within the group, Thrór flicked his eyes briefly to Thorin. "Interesting choice of words. Care to explain?" He was interested in the answer that would be given.
The fact that the elves seemed to give off this unearthly radiant glow, Thorin couldn't help but find himself frowning a little. He shrugged, "They're different to us." He stated, earning a raised eyebrow from Thrór. Thorin kept his voice low, he didn't want to offend anyone. "Our walls are made of stone, from mountains. It is cold, it is confined. They live in open woodlands." Thrór gave a low, slow nod at that. "I never believed any elf would wish or want to come here. It's the opposite to what they know."
Reaching up and placing a hand gently against his grandson's shoulder, Thrór nodded again. "To find yourself within an unknown place, within surroundings completely opposite to what is your norm is a small price to pay, is it not?" He sounded thoughtful as Thorin looked confused. "To pay respects, from one monarch to another." Thorin still looked a little confused, yet more edging on thoughtful now as he stood there watching his grandfather sigh. "Thorin, there will come a time where you will understand what it is I am saying. You still have so much to learn."
Deciding it best not to say anything more, Thorin nodded. He would concede to agree with his grandfather, his King. Slowly his blue eyes flicked back to the group, four appeared to be guards who were at the rear of the group. Their armour caught the light within the cavernous room, glinting lowly within the torchlight as their faces remained impassive. The head of the group was lead by a tall figure, clothed in silver robes with a calm expression etched onto his face as he looked at the dwarves before him. His long blonde hair cascaded over his shoulders and down his back. His pale blue eyes looked them all over before flicking upwards.
The Arkenstone caused his head to tilt a little, in curiosity perhaps? The pointed branches of his crown remained unmoving upon his head as he set his head straight again. There was no way to confuse this figure as anyone else but Thranduil, the Elvenking of the Woodland Realm. It seemed like an equal assessment as the two sets looked back at each other. Thorin especially seemed to intently stop staring to get distracted by a smaller cloaked figure to Thranduil's side.
Slightly smaller, shorter rather, than the rest it was a mystery. The hood of the cloak had remained up too, which added to the air of mystery really. Thorin's eyes lingered on that figure longer than perhaps it should've, because when he finally moved his eyes away, they caught those of Thranduil. The icy stare did nothing but cause Thorin to straighten his back and stare back. The slightest twitches of the Elvenking's eyebrow showed that he was perhaps a little amused by the small act of defiance, after all, there wasn't many who withstood his stare without reacting somehow.
"I welcome you all to Erebor," Thrór's voice was kind in greeting, echoing slightly in the stone room as he lifted his hands in an action of welcoming. "We are honoured to have you and your company here, Thranduil, King of Mirkwood." Thrór said, deciding to opt for the other name in which the elf's kingdom was known as, due to whisperings of something foul slowly starting to grow within the trees.
Thranduil looked sincere as he looked to the dwarf-King. "Thrór, King under the Mountain, the honour is truly mine." His head bowed slowly midway through talking. Despite his face being suddenly cast downwards, his eyes still flicked upwards, pale and staring as he looked to the stone above Thrór's head. His eyes took in the stone, in all its glory. "This must be the Arkenstone. It is more glorious in person." His voice had turned cool, his eyes slowly drifted downwards to the dwarf who had claimed ownership of it. "You must be pleased with such a discovery." He said, his words a statement not a question as a small, placid smile appeared on his face.
Thrór nodded rather enthusiastically. He gave the smallest of fidgets to straighten up in his throne as he looked to Thranduil. "I am." He looked to each side, "Please, allow me to introduce you to my kin." Realising introductions hadn't actually happened, Thrór saw to rectify that now. "This is my son, Prince Thràin." His son got a hand slowly gestured to him, in return Thràin's single eyed stare looked to the group as he gave a slow bow of his head. Motioning to his other side, Thrór continued on; "This is my grandson, Prince Thorin." Much like his father, Thorin bowed his head, his eyes slowly going downcast too as he ended up looking down at his boots.
Thranduil's eyes glanced at each of them as they were introduced. In retort he had bowed his head to them too. Looking slowly down, his eyes landed on the cloaked figure by his side. He spoke quietly in elvish. None of the dwarves understood what he had spoken. But whatever it was that he had so quietly spoken, it had resorted in hands appearing from the cloak and slowly the hood was gently pushed down.
An elven woman, Thorin raised an eyebrow. That would certainly explain some things. In flawless actions she removed her cloak. Looking to the dwarf-King, she smiled lightly. Blonde hair flecked with streaks of a darker shade of blonde, almost brown tumbled down her shoulders. There was a slight curl to it which made some locks of hair flick up in strange directions. Much like other elves, she had a narrow face with almost porcelain coloured skin, in the torchlight it looked almost translucent. It was not possible to see the shade of her eyes, there was too much space between Thorin and herself. Despite having the features of most elves, there was one thing which caused him to look at her with a level of confusion. She was rather short, in elf standards, considering those she was surrounded by, she barely reached Thranduil's shoulder.
She was entrancing, which was a usual thing with and wherever elves were present. There was always an air about them which caused both peace and curiosity to envelope whoever was looking upon them. This feeling of peace and curiosity had suddenly found its way to Thorin. She seemed still in her youth, much like himself. Although they were still young, there could still be a gap in age between them. Elves, after all, aged much differently than dwarves.
In that instant of seeing her, Thorin had it in mind that he would get to know this woman who had piqued his curiosity. Slowly her gaze moved over and looked at him, she too looked at him with a certain level of interest. A small smile appeared on her face, this just caused him to want to turn away from being found out that he was staring at her. Out of politeness, he smiled back.
A hand got gestured to her, the Elvenking glanced briefly down at her before looking to the dwarves in front of them. "May I introduce you to Princess Náriel. She is my niece, the daughter of Rûdhon, my brother. He and his wife passed away many years ago, leaving Náriel in my care. I permitted her accompanying me here."
Thrór straightened up in his seat and looked to the Princess interestedly. "My, you are most lovely." He complimented kindly. "You may just rival the Arkenstone in beauty."
Náriel blinked slowly and smiled lightly. "Ci fêl, melda tár." She bowed her head slowly with her eyes shut. Slowly looking up she smiled again. "I thank you, beloved King." Her tone was calm and soothing as she repeated what she had earlier said for the sake of them understanding her. "You flatter me so," she shook her head which caused her waist length hair to shake from side to side loosely.
Thrór merely smiled at her before looking back to Thranduil. "How long do you wish to stay in Erebor for, Elvenking?"
Thranduil briefly looked to Náriel as she folded her cloak over her arms. "No less than a month, if you will allow it." He answered smoothly. "It is our wish to see as much of your fortressed city as we can."
Upon hearing this, the dwarf-King rose slowly from his throne. Descending down the stone steps, he stopped in front of the elf. The height difference making the dwarf, having to crane his neck ever so slightly, as Thranduil tilted his chin downwards to look him in the eye. "I shall allow it," Thrór smiled. "You and your companions shall be our honoured guests for a month. I promise you shall see many wonders in our city while you are with us." Thrór's tone turned into a proud one, Thranduil and Náriel's head dipped in a small bow. "Someone shall show you to the guest quarters which have been prepared for you." He said while looking over his shoulders as two dwarves shuffled out from the corners of the large space. They stopped nearby awaiting for their King to finish speaking. "My son, grandson and I have other matters to attend to. But we shall send for you when our business is through. Tonight we shall have a marvellous feast in celebration for your safe journey and arrival here."
"We thank you most graciously." Thranduil said as they were slowly led away by the guards which had earlier appeared.
Standing straight faced alongside his father, Thorin looked down just as Náriel sent up another friendly smile at him, his eyes followed her form down the long corridor which led to the guest quarters. She continued to look back until she could no longer twist her neck over her shoulder. Once they rounded a corner her form, along with the others was lost to him.
—
There was rarely anything which made the time pass slower, more than those of royal duties; or rather anything which fell into the jurisdiction of royal duties. Admittedly, Thorin had found himself completely spacing out, merely zoning out of the conversation to hand and retreating to his thoughts where time could be spent musing over more interesting things. Well, interesting to him at least. Perhaps not so much to anyone else; honestly though, perhaps losing focus in weapons training wasn't the best...but by this point, Thorin was over it, it happened, there wasn't much that could be said or done about it...other than maybe to stop daydreaming?
Thorin couldn't help it if there may have been more interesting things to think about. Where elves were concerned, Thorin really hadn't had any dealings with them. He highly doubted he would have much interaction with the Elvenking. In all honesty, Thorin found himself fine with that. There was a cold indifference about him which just gave off an ever colder aura. Even though he did well to appear gracious, sincere and polite; Thorin wasn't wholly sure. But no, his mind was not opting to make him zone out of his tasks because of the Elvenking.
After the days' tasks were done, Thorin believed it would perhaps be wise to return to his quarters. At least in there he could think to his heart's content and no one would interrupt. And also, he doubted hugely that he would be needed until later on. Perhaps naturally curious, a small part of him did want to go in search for Erebor's visitors, but no. No, they had travelled all day to get here, they must be exhausted even if they didn't show it. The last thing they needed, or wanted, was a curious dwarf-Prince around.
There were many other dwarves milling about the kingdom's corridors as he slowly made his way along. Absentmindedly however, Thorin found that his feet were slowly taking him back down to the throne room. It was strange how large and empty the room actually was. Designed to hold a great number, yet now, so empty and eerie. Even more so without his grandfather's imposing figure sitting on the throne.
Thrór may not be sitting on the throne, but someone however was mighty curious about it. Thorin faltered and stayed within the shadows of the wall as he watched the small Princess. Náriel had walked up the steps, she looked the chair up and down, even daring to reach out and stroke at the stone armrests. Thorin raised an eyebrow, daring indeed. Not many were allowed so close. If she was to be caught, the repercussions wouldn't be good, curious visitor or not. Her assessment of the seat didn't last long before she looked up at the Arkenstone. The glow and gentle radiating colours seemed to have temporarily mesmerised her as she stared at it with wide eyes.
Daring to lean out from his current hiding place, Thorin watched as Náriel turned on her heels and took to walking towards the front gate. Glancing over his shoulder, Thorin looked forwards again and pulled out from the shadows of the corner and walked after her. No one else had seemed to pay any mind to the wandering Princess, but he had. He was curious, still very curious, as to where she could be going. Surely she had been told not to venture far, or at least without a guard present? There were no dangers here, but even still, Thorin was rather certain she had never been to these parts before.
He managed to keep his distance quite well, never once losing sight of her blonde haired head bobbing about as she continued onwards speedily. It seemed she was in a rush, for something at least. He couldn't help but tilt his head, what was he doing? Why, why was he doing this? Sure, he could pin this down to curiosity, but it wasn't wholly befitting any male, let alone a royal one to follow after a lone lady.
Unlike his booted feet, Náriel and her simply shoe covered feet seemed to make hardly any noise against the fallen foliage which was outside. She was heading towards the small cluster of nearby trees. Of course she would, Thorin couldn't help but shake his head. The woman was perhaps a little homesick. Of course she'd head to the one place which was like home. Náriel paused every so often to place a hand against a tree. Feeling the bark underneath her hand before moving off. Thinking this would be the best time to stop, Thorin took up hiding behind one of the trees.
Carefully he looked around it to see what she was doing. Letting out a slow sigh, she looked up to the sky. Tilting her head to the side, she seemed to be admiring the way the sun was shining through the leaves. A myriad of greens, brown and oranges got illuminated by the rays. Looking to the ground, she shifted her feet. Opening her eyes, she looked straight ahead. "Man ceridh?" She lifted her head up and looked from the corner of her eyes. "What are you doing?" She asked sternly, her eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion.
"I'm curious." Thorin replied while straightening up and walking out from his hiding place. He crossed his arms loosely behind his back and stepped into the small clearing where she was standing.
Náriel's eyes widened, emerald, they were a sharp emerald colour. He could tell that now that they were standing practically opposite to each other. "Prince Thorin," she turned sharply on her heels and looked at him. "I am sorry for sounding so rude," she said quickly while bowing her head. Frowning when all she received was a quiet chuckle, she looked up confused. "It is an honour to find myself in your company," she curtsied slowly, her tone was quite a humble sounding one.
It was clear that manners, and being to the upmost polite as possible had been drummed into her and was naturally the way the elves behaved. "I believe I'll have to contradict your words," this caused a confused look to be shot at him. "I am most sure that there is more honour to find oneself in the company of a fair Princess, than a Prince like me."
Náriel's eyes narrowed thoughtfully, slowly she smiled. "You are too kind to me, you and your family are too kind, in fact." She replied, the small amount of apprehension which was previously surrounding her was slowly ebbing away. Tilting her head to the side she quickly looked him up and down. Letting out a hum she even quickly walked around him, Thorin turned his head and watched her go. "If you are honoured to be in the company of a fair Princess such as myself, then I am honoured to be in the company of a very majestic Prince, such as yourself." She commented back while stopping in front of him and entwining her hands together over her stomach.
Shaking his head slowly, Thorin tried to ignore the quick comeback to his gentlemanly remark. Instead the first thing he picked up on was: "You think I look majestic?" He asked truly curious by her comment.
Náriel let out a quiet laugh and shrugged her shoulders slowly. "Do I have a reason to think otherwise? You have this air about you," she gestured a hand to him and smiled. Giving a sure nod, she placed her hand back over her stomach with her other one. "You seem to be a dwarf of strong body, mind and heart. These are all grand and noble qualities for a Prince to possess."
"You were able to collect all of that from just looking at me?" Thorin questioned.
Náriel reached up and pointed to her eyes. "I'm an elf, Master Dwarf." She stated. "There is not much in this world which can escape them. We are able to look past things and see the true nature within."
"Impressive," Thorin quietly remarked. There wasn't a way he could retort to that really.
"You said you were curious, what are you curious about?" Náriel asked, Thorin was glad she had voiced this. He was at a loss of what else to say.
"Why you are out here."
Náriel looked at him sceptically, she was trying to figure out if he was telling the truth. Upon realising he was, she nodded slowly. Lifting up a hand she gestured to the surrounding trees. Thorin looked around then back at her. "I was curious," she smiled using his simple statement. "I wished to know what the area outside was like." It was the honest truth. "I'm adventurous, I like to explore. I've ever really known my woodland home, there is much of Middle-earth which I'd dearly love to see." Her eyes gazed off into the distance. "There is so much to see. Since my uncle is King of the Greenwood he travels from time to time. Sometimes I am allowed to go, sometimes I am not. It's more the not than the am," she laughed quietly and ran a hand through her hair. "He knows too well that I long to explore, that is why he allows me to accompany him." She looked up at him and shook her head slowly. Looking over his shoulder, her eyes landed back on Erebor. "It is one of few places I have wanted to see for so long."
Frowning Thorin, looked quickly over his shoulder then back at her. "Why is that?"
"You live in one of the greatest kingdoms in Middle-earth! It is also very close to my home," she added as an after thought. "I have never seen a dwarven realm. The Lonely Mountain has always interested me, the splendour, the architecture of the dwarves, it is all so curiously interesting." Náriel said enthusiastically while looking up at him. Thorin just glanced back at her looking slightly lost for words as well as being in a mild state of confusion. "Why do you look at me like that?" Náriel asked while tilting her head to the side.
"I have never crossed paths with an elf who has openly admitted to wanting to visit a dwarven realm. You are the first, I find it almost too hard to take it in, let alone believe."
Náriel smiled and inclined her head. "I am not like most elves you're likely to cross paths with."
"That I have noticed," Thorin said slowly. "I did notice that you are smaller in stature to the other elves in your group. That is a very peculiar trait to have for your kind." Thorin said, now they were on level ground and standing opposite each other Náriel was almost eye level with him. As elves go, she was certainly smaller than most.
Náriel's eyes turned blank and she stared at him with a certain level of hostility. "Are you suggesting that I am perhaps a half-breed?" She questioned lowly.
Thorin looked at her and realised that he bought up something he possibly shouldn't have. Náriel's disposition had suddenly changed. Moments ago she was relaxed and joking, now she was harsh and serious. He did not know what was offensive about his previous comment. "No, no I didn't mean-"
"Liar! I can see it written in your expression and in the tone of your voice! I am not a half-breed!" Náriel said highly irritated while turning on her heels and quickly walking away from him.
Thorin stood there at a loss for words again. What exactly had he just done? He did not mean to offend her, honestly he did not. He did not wish for her to suddenly harbour bitter feelings towards him because of one misunderstanding. Quickly starting forwards, he called out for her and tried to find her. But for all purposes she had seemingly done a disappearing act. She was incredibly fast at walking and hiding, it seemed. Finding himself feeling highly irritated towards himself, Thorin muttered under his breath while running a hand through his long black hair. Usually he was most careful with his words when around a woman, what had gone wrong here he did not know.
"Fool," he cursed at himself while leaning against a nearby tree. He muttered a few more irritated words to himself in Khazdul before letting out an annoyed sigh and actually hitting himself on the forehead for good measure. "Fool." He repeated, opening his eyes, he looked around when there was a quiet laugh. A feminine laugh at that.
His eyes scanned the area confused, "Master Dwarf," a voice from above spoke, Thorin pushed away from the tree he was leaning against and looked up. Náriel was sitting with her back to the trunk and her legs stretched out along the branch. Her hands were in her lap, slowly she looked down at him. "Your expression is quite priceless, I apologise for laughing." She covered her mouth to hide her growing smile. Thorin just continued to look up at her with a bemused expression. "I was joking, Prince. I am not angry with you or your words. They are words I have encountered enough in my lifetime, thus far. It just irks me, is all." She leaned forwards in the tree, putting her legs over the branch. Leaning her arms against her knees, she looked down at him. "I am sorry for teasing you." She said seriously only to end up laughing quietly again.
Thorin shook his head slowly, although not wholly enjoying being the source of her joking, he found himself laughing along. He was relieved that he had not openly offended her, and that it was just an act. "I am a full elf; I'm not a half-breed," Náriel explained while carefully climbing down. Her actions were so simple and fluid, once she stepped foot onto solid ground, she stepped forwards to stand in front of him. "I was just born different, for whatever reason that is, I do not know." Náriel crossed her arms loosely and let out a quiet sigh. "I don't usually put much thought into my height difference to the others. In truth; it has never bothered me. I am content with how I am."
"If it's any sort of consolation, I am considered tall for a dwarf. You are almost the same height as me. It appears that we were both born differently from the normality of our races."
Náriel smiled, "It would seem that way, wouldn't it?"
—
Inventory:
Thank you – Ci fêl
Beloved king - Melda tár
What are you doing? - Man ceridh?
(Re-edited: 23/Oct/2023)
(A/N: I am reediting this, again, because this site has bodged up the formatting, again, on it. But also I do not believe that it needs to be 99 chapters long, sure, I think it'll still be lengthy, but I do plan to shorten the number of the previous edited chapters to a more manageable number...)