"So do it again!" The bandit demanded, seizing Thranduil's face and pushing it to face the sky. The Elf frantically shook his head, fighting against his shackles and crying out.
"D-don't make me..." The Prince begged quietly.
"You haven't the vaguest conception of how dangerous a Dragon is...I - haven't." The hook nosed captor made a noise of disgust, swiftly striking the Elf's face and smirking as he cried out.
"Locke." He called, upon which the poker was forced to the Elf's naked stomach.
Thranduil cried out again in agony.
"Show us, 'Dovahkiin'!" Locke snickered.
"Call it down!" They branded him again, branded him an animal, as he hadn't the strength any longer against the searing pain.
His wail of agony was followed by the last of his shouts.
"LOK VAH KOOR!" He cried as he summoned all of the energy from within him, and the skies before him cleared, and a roar to shake the whole of Middle Earth rang through their ears.
Thranduil cried fearfully, and as a winged beast danced through the clouds the bandits dropped their weapons and ran. Past the point of caring, Thranduil screamed for his life as he could hear the vain cries of his captors, the hiss of fire, the blood curdling screeches and stomach churning roars, until there was nothing to break the silence other than the beat of the beast's wings, as he could gather with his azure eyes screwed up tightly, directly above him. He prepared himself for his imminent demise, breath heavy and desperate as the Dragon drew it's breath.
"DOVAHKIIN." It bellowed. The call seemed to make the earth tremble as the creature landed, though nothing but a wild and powerful gust of air passed over the Prince's face.