Saeril was sitting in the empty space of the bed, next to Kili's sleeping form. Her knees nearly up to her chest, her wings tucked behind her, and her straight dark-brown hair flowing free. She hoped Thorin didn't go too hard on them, but by the looks of Kili's exhaustion, the dwarven King perhaps did go a bit far. Feeling the youngest stir, her attention was drawn to him. Giving that motherly smile of hers, the she-elf laid her hand upon his own, bowing her head down, and closing her eyes passively. "My promise isn't yet fulfilled, young Durin", she reminded him. "I'm sure you know that said-promise".

She was stern when she said this, although it softened when he asked on where he was. "This, was one of the original chambers to one of the sons of Durin. Don't ask me who", the she-elf winked, as if there was a hidden secret about the room. Truthfully, it was his birthplace. "It was special to a special someone".