Calm The Fire

47

Tilting her head to the side, Náriel's eyes narrowed slowly yet thoughtfully over the tapestries which hung before her. Sure, they were hanging limply from the great iron racks which suspended them, but even in the torchlight she could see the vivid colours which shone out in the gloom around her. It had slowly become early evening since returning back to the Mountain. As such all torches which were available and hanging were promptly lit. Everywhere was now cast in a warm orange glow, which threw dark shadows flickering over the halls and rooms which surrounded her.

Náriel was also enveloped in the warmth which they gave off, finding herself quite grateful of it really. The evenings were starting to get cooler by the day that go by signalling the oncoming winter. Náriel's eyes narrowed again as she crossed her arms and tapped a finger to her chin. She was currently staring at a painting now. Alongside the tapestries there were a few paintings, she'd shifted down the wall to have a look. The painting had caught her eyes mainly because of the hard focus of the eyes within the picture.

"Is this a stupid question, but who is that?" She asked eventually breaking the silence. She looked over the regal standing, the fair fine somewhat beautifully intricate, yet, sturdy armour, then she moved to the great axe resting on his shoulder. He looked strong, impressive. Leaning back, she raised an eyebrow, she wouldn't want to face him in battle that was for sure. Smiling lightly, she suddenly caught herself. "This is Durin, isn't it?" Náriel smiled and looked to Thorin.

He stood by her side just standing in silence as she took to looking over the pieces of artwork which adorned his home. "It is."

Náriel looked at him and then sent a sidewards glance up at the painting. The helmet which rested upon the dwarf's head, which had seven stars delicately painted gave the hint away. As soon as she saw that it dawned on her. Even she had read of the vision which the forefather of dwarf-kind had had. "It is amazing." Náriel smiled again and looked back to the painting. Narrowing her eyes, she leaned forwards. There was something inscribed at the bottom, like most things it was written in runes, as such Náriel hadn't got the skill of reading runes. She could only just manage Khuzdul, with a hesitant look, she glanced at Thorin.

"It's just saying who he is," he explained. Náriel tilted her head to the side and eyed the inscription up and then him. With a sigh, Thorin shifted forwards and looked over the runes. "This is Durin the Deathless; a great ancestor to all of dwarf-kind."

Náriel nodded slowly, "Through my reading experiences I have only stumbled across him a few times. I'm afraid to say my knowledge isn't that great."

"What do you know of him?" Thorin asked curiously. He couldn't help it. It intrigued him to know that she knew at least something of his ancestors. The only reaction he didn't expect was for her to laugh, he narrowed his eyes at her and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"Sorry, just...if I learn about your ancestors, are you seriously telling me you'd want to learn about mine?" Náriel questioned, Thorin looked rather thoughtful over this. "Exactly." She said with a roll of the eyes.

It would be a fair exchange to learn about each others pasts, where they came from, who they descended from. But somehow Náriel could see that this would be partially one sided. The only way to succeed in telling him about her ancestors was to possibly barrage him with information. Though that thought caused her to quietly chuckle, and that caused him to look at her strangely.

"Sorry, right, where were we? Oh! Yes, my lack of knowledge," Náriel said getting back on track. Twiddling her fingers she looked to the painting, "He is the founder of Durin's Folk, and that there is a day called Durin's Day in his honour, which we already know too well. But apart from those little pieces of information, I'm afraid to say I don't know anything else." She hung her head in mock shame only to peek up and grin.