Blood of a Dragon (Thranduil Fic)

Chapter Seven

A storm brewed beneath her skin. Lumina felt the urge to latch her jaws onto something and bite. She wanted to fight, she wanted to destroy.
As she sat on her throne she dug her claws into the stone. She felt a scream building in her chest. Madness. She was swimming in madness.
The scream ripped from her throat it roared throughout the palace. The stone walls were her prison. The vaulted ceilings felt like they were about to fall down and bury her alive.
It was beyond unfair. Their happiness was short lived, it was crushed to a fine powder.
She felt her skin grow hot it hurt so much. Their was nothing she could do.

Lumina wanted to rip the dwarf's head from his shoulders. She wanted to watch the life fade from his eyes in a slow agony. She wanted to mount the slayer on a stake in front of Erebor to serve as a warning to those who pass.
She wanted the city to go up in flames. She wanted their world to burn just as hers had.
She saw the fear on their eyes when she walked past them.
The dwarves still had free roam of the palace, she didn't care to acknowledge their presence. They were the mice that scurried by her feet, she was the cat that they hid from.
Bilbo stood by her side as a loyal companion. Lumina knew she caused him great distress, but that was only a minor concern. She was alone and needed a friend.

She entered her chambers and slumped against the wall. Her crown weighed heavy on her head. A disgusting reminder.
Screaming she yanked it from her head and threw it against the stone wall with a loud clang. She tore at the braids in her hair letting her waves to fall down her back. Tears blurred her vision as sobs over took her.
She was drowning, soon she wouldn't be able to breathe...

_____

Thranduil stood on the outskirts of the town of where his men where stationed. His sensitive ears picked up on the gut wrenching screams that poured from the mountain. He knew of the sorrows that came from losing a soul mate. He knew of the madness that it came with.
The woman that had swept in with a blinding fury was the same one who was falling apart in Erebor. The way her eyes lit with rage and behind that fury was an utter hopelessness.

Thranduil knew why she had declared war on Bard. He also knew why she didn't kill him when she had the chance. The woman knew that it would not bring her loved one back from the grave.

He was almost ashamed of standing here on the ridge with his army prepared for battle. He was going to go in a war against a woman who lost it all.
He knew of the stories of her homeland. It was burned to the ground and her race was slaughtered.

As a boy he remembered the orange horizon, with childish ignorance he was unaware that orange was the burning embers of a town.

Clenching his jaw, he turned his back to the lonely mountain.