Zoor Se Dovahruth
Twenty

-Dovahro Serk-
A Dragon's Rath

The brown dirt beneath Thranduil's feet shook as he stood patiently before his throne waiting to hear good news of the dwarves capture. His brows furrowed from the sudden action but he was surprised yet again when the earth shook and settled dust was once again brought into the air from its resting place. Deep within the halls of Mirkwood, a deep and bellowing roar filled the empty space. Thranduil's heart dropped in his chest as the flashes of memories from long ago flooded his mind with fire and ruin. The earth shook once more and it was then that Thranduil had known he'd made a mistake.

The source of the quake plummeted through a wall into the inner chamber of Mirkwood, Thranduil watched on with hatred as he spotted the dragon clawing away at his home. The creature was not as big as the dragon he'd encountered so many years ago but the monster was big enough to cause any sort of damage. Keeva rode astride the beast, clinging onto his scales and horns for her dear life. When she spotted the King amongst his best guards Keeva called something out to the creature, perhaps in its own tongue. The dragon hummed wickedly and took flight.

The beast took in a deep breath, the sound resembling that of a wicked storm taking its first crack of thunder upon the earth, and then with no pause the dragon bellowed a single phrase, freezing the few King's men that had their arrows pointed. Then the dragon ascended to the tree tops of the Mirkwood kingdom and broke through the canopy without consideration.

Thranduil watched on with a rage boiling in the pit of his stomach. The desecration of his home, injuring his people… this was not the story of legend. This girl, this dragon child, she will pay for her actions.

…

The dwarves and master Hobbit, after escaping not only the clutches of Mirkwood but a pack of Orcs as well, paddled themselves down the river drenched and exhausted. "Anything behind us?" Thorin asked.

"Not that I can see," answered Balin still floating down the river after the others. Bofur popped up and down in his barrel, spitting out water that had started filling the bottom of his makeshift raft. Looking from behind, Bofur spotted nothing but trees, shrubs, and more water, "I think we've outrun the orcs."

"Not for long; we've lost the current," Thorin reminded his men, urging them over to the edge of the river. "Make for the shore!"

They climbed out of the river, one after the other, helping as they went. When Kili final escaped the river's clutches, he fell to his knees in pain, grasping at the side of his leg where he'd been shot with an orc arrow. Bofur watched on as Kili tried his best to pull the arrow head out of his leg with his fingers but the struggle was obvious. The pain in Bofur's eyes expressed his deepest sympathies. Kili looked at Bofur crossly, "I'm fine, it's nothing."

Fili dropped down to his brother's side and tore a strip of fabric from his shirt to tie around Kili's wound. His brother, selflessly stopped Fili's hands from tying the fabric, Fili's concerned eyes glancing down into his brother's own chocolate umber pools after realizing that Kili was trying to get his attention, "Keeva? What happened?"

"It'll be alright," Fili insisted, trying to make his brother remember his wound, "Bilbo said everything would be alright."

"On your feet," Thorin ordered, looking among his companions to see where everyone was at.

Fili eyed his uncle with worry, "Kili's wounded. His leg needs binding."

"There's an orc pack on our tail; we keep moving," Thorin insisted. "To where? And what of our mistress?" Balin asked, curiosity now getting the better of him. Many others were wondering the same question, concern passing over their eyes as they looked from Thorin to Bilbo.

"To the mountain; we're so close," Bilbo added as he tried to wring water out of his shirt and coat. Balin looked at him pointedly, the wisdom and knowledge of an elderly dwarf showing in that single look, "A lake lies between us and that mountain. We have no way to cross it."

"So then we go around."

"The orcs will run us down, as sure as daylight. We have no weapons to defend ourselves," Dwalin chided. Thorin walked up to his nephews, "Bind his leg, quickly. You have two minutes."

While Fili continued to clean and bind his brothers' leg, some of the dwarves sit to rest their own weary legs. Ori knelt by the river, empting his boots of the seemingly endless clear liquid. Oblivious to all the company, a man sneaks up over a pile of rocks and aims an arrow at Ori. As the dwarves begin to realize that they're not alone, they jump up. Dwalin, holding a branch, leapt in front of Ori and raises the branch in defense. Beginning to charge, the man releases his arrow and it embeds itself right in the middle of the branch. Kili raises a rock to throw but the man shoots the rock out of his hands as well. "Do it again, and you're dead," the man warned.

…

Keeva had nearly passed out from the immediate rise in elevation. The air pressure was pressing in on her ears and she closed her eyes in hopes that it would ease the pain. "Fokeinvokul-"

"Aye, child, I know. But we must not be seen in the sky. The higher I go the less we'll be spotted," he urged with a dark hum. "Do not let go."

The higher the dragon went the more Keeva could barely stay conscious and worse, her grip began to loosen. When Keeva was just on the brink of darkness, Fokeinvokul stopped his ascent and sailed through the sky, easing his form into the thick fluffy clouds, this being the best way to hide not only himself but his ward from anything dangerous. They did not want to be followed and more so, they did not want people to know they were there.

In the distance, Fokeinvokul's keen sight could see the sharp peek of a lonely mountain. A city lay at its base, empty and desolate. Not too far off from the vacant city was a large lake and upon that lake, centered just in the middle, was a town of wood that smelled deeply of fish and stale water. The dragon hummed darkly, not pleased with his options. But he knew he needed to get Keeva back into the hands of her companions. It was the lake town that Fokeinvokul thought best for their reunion and he prayed to Akatosh that this would be the place destined for that moment. They were so close to their goal. She was just in reach of that dragon soul and once she had it they would be on their way back to Tamriel.

Fokeinvokul set his sights on the lake town. He would land just on the outskirts of the lake, where the dock to the town was close enough for the young Halfling to walk. He would return to his Oblivion and wait again until it was his time. Until then, he would put his faith in his little Keeva.

…

Keeva woke from a very lucid dream of stars and the moon. Above her were the darkening leaves of the late and ending summer. The sun tried its best to poke through the clouds from high above, but the dreary day seemed to already set in like an old friend with their old habits. Keeva sat up, holding her head with her hand. A throbbing pain took hold and she wondered briefly what had happened after her escape from Mirkwood. It was foggy - her memory that is. She could only briefly remember the sky and going faster and faster, higher and higher… then nothing.

Keeva opened her eyes once more and looked at her surroundings. There was just a shore line and then just beyond her vision through the fog were soft glowing lights on the water. Fire, clearly, but fire lighting up what?

Keeva sighed and took to her feet, realizing she wasn't going to find out unless she pursued it. On her feet, Keeva pushed herself to the edge of the water and looked to see if she could find a boat. There were none but just down the shoreline was a dock that seemed to stretch on into the fog of the lake. Keeva saw this as her answer and headed into the depths of the foggy lake to find help.

It didn't take her long. In fact, she was greeted halfway between the shoreline and the supposed town she was trying to reach. Two guards, both adorned in armor and helms aimed at her with short firing bows, "Who goes there?"

Keeva glanced between the two, "My name is of no significates. I'm just a humble traveler looking for a night of shelter and food to fill my belly."

"Even travelers have names," one of the guards told her, their stances never easing. Keeva sighed, "Keeva, daughter of Thalin from the hold of Windhelm."

"Never heard of it," the other guard spat. "You look like trouble. Shorter than an average woman and wild looking at that."

"We Bosmer don't take offence to our stature. We use it to our advantage," Keeva said nonchalantly while shrugging her shoulders. The guards seemed a little irritated by the strangers attitude and finally stepped forward, each grabbing an arm gruffly, "Fine, if you won't leave, we'll take you to the Master then, if you're so desperate."

Keeva looked at the two in amazement and nearly dug her feet into the ground to stop them if it wasn't for the sight of the Lonely Mountain that had peaked through the fog of the lake. She stared in amazement as she was dragged through the docks of the makeshift town, her fate now in the hands of the Laketown's Master.

When they reached the center of the town, the largest and most decorated of the buildings of the town stood before the Halfling. The two guards carried her tiny frame up the stairs and into the home of the Master. The walls were covered from top to bottom with tapestries and oil paintings. Tables were littered with tombs, scrolls, odd objects of all sizes and most of all, gold and silver. Plates, coins, jewelry, you name it – it was on every surface within the grand hall of this Laketown's hold.

"Sir," the guard on Keeva's left addressed the man setting in the ornate chair at the head of a seemingly empty table. But upon closer investigation it was covered with silver platters of fruits, vegetables, meats – smoked and cooked – even tankards of various alcoholic drinks.

"What is it?" the bumbling greasy man asked; a pork leg in his hand. The guards stepped forward, bringing Keeva up with them. When the fat man looked down at her with his slick face Keeva felt a wave of distrust course through her veins. Even is beady, glassy gaze caused the hairs on the back of her neck to rise with warning.

"An outsider, Sir. She says her name is Keeva, daughter of Thalin from the hold of Windhelm," the guard on her right explained, making the mistake of letting go over her arm. While he spoke, Keeva let her sticky fingers get to work.

"Never heard of it," the fat man said, dropping the pork leg back onto his plate and picked up his flagon to take a long grueling drink of his ale. Keeva's captors were quick to answer, "Aye, my lord, we said the same thing."

The man paused for a moment to think on the girl in front of him, she was small, wild looking, and clearly of mixed blood. Her slightly pointed eyes gazed at him sharply, never missing a single movement and the Master quietly wondered if this little girl was more of a thief than anything more grand that her title would offer. "The hold of Windhelm you say?"

"Aye, sir."

"And where exactly is this place, may I ask?" the Master drew with a posh breath. Keeva peered at him judgingly, her nose twitching with distaste, "Windhelm is in a faraway land, sir. Where Dragon's roam free, burning the people of Skyrim out of their homes, reigning terror and fear. A land where true warriors, such as myself, have learned a thing or two about cutting down a beast that may be a problem. I hear you have a drake of your own not too far from here."

Keeva switched tactics after swiping a knife and the guard's keys. Both snuggly tucked into the back of her bodice. The eyebrows on the Master's face rose with amusement, "You think you can kill the dragon?"

"Aye, sir, I know I can," Keeva smirked, her gaze never leaving the sight of the Lonely Mountain in the window behind the Laketown's Master.

…

Keeva had been treated well after her little chat with the Master in private. His greed for gold played well in her favor, ensuring that if she did her part of the bargain that she would be in return given food, shelter and supplies for the journey ahead. Surely her company would be on their way to the mountain by now and she reasoned she could catch up with them if she dismissed any breaks for sleep.

Sleep now however, was a necessity. The energy it took her to break the spell Thranduil cast on her drained Keeva to the bone. She was weary, tired and most of all very hungry. She sat at the Master's dinner table, feasting upon chicken and various green vegetables. Some of these delicacies she'd never even tried before. The deserts ranging in all sorts of colors and shapes drove her senses mad.

By the time she'd finished the sun had already set and a soft and quiet snow was falling upon the town. Keeva watched from the window with delight, a sigh reaching her lips as she smiled and thought upon her little home, in the snowy mountains of Windhelm's Reach. She was often told she was born on the coldest day in the first of many years and she wondered briefly if that was a factor for her fondness of snow.

Keeva's train of thought wandered away from her grasp when a ruckus greeted the Master's right hand man, Alfrid, at the front door. Town's people and guards all alike had gathered around with torches and pitchforks, spears and swords, all directed in one place. Keeva had followed the Master out of the house, Alfrid addressing the town's people with little authority. She was never really impressed by the Master's choice in council. But Keeva continued to remind herself that she was only staying for a couple more nights and only had to put up with the slimy man.

As she poked her head around the door she found twelve little men, in ragged and damp clothing. But upon closer look, Keeva had found her dwarf friends and master Hobbit.

"What is the meaning of this?" the Master asked in an outrage as he threw on his long coat to keep himself from the chill of the air. One of the Laketown's captains stepped forward with his prisoners, "We caught 'em stealing weapons, sire."

"Ah. Enemies of the state, then," the Master stated with relief. Alfrid was quick to give his opinion, "This is a bunch of mercenaries if ever there was, sire."

Keeva just about had it with that slimy little weasel, so much so she wanted to jump the coward and beat him with her fists. She probably could do so and he wouldn't even fight back!

"Hold your tongue. You do not know to whom you speak. This is no common criminal; this is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror!" Dwalin stepped forward to correct Alfrid's dear mistake before Keeva could even get her hands on the bastard. The crowd began to murmur with excitement as Thorin stepped forward, "We are the dwarves of Erebor."

If the statement from Dwalin wasn't enough for the towns folk to begin talking, Thorin's statement would have finished the job. The crowd whispered in shock, recognition sparking in their faces and people began craning their heads just to see the infamous grandson of the King Under the Mountain.

"We have come to reclaim our homeland. I remember this town and the great days of old. Fleets of boats lay at harbor, filled with silks and fine gems. This was no forsaken town on a lake! This was the center of all trade in the North." Thorin's speech was earnest and true. The people nodded in agreement and with some hope sparkling in their cold eyes. "I would see those days return. I would relight the great forges of the dwarves and send wealth and riches flowing once more from the halls of Erebor!"

The crowd of towns people began to cheer and clap as the Master looked on with a calculating gaze. Keeva smiled broadly behind the fat man, proud of the dwarf lord she'd call her King.

Out of the blue, in the midst of the common folk, a voice called out and from the horde of people came Bard, "Death! That is what you will bring upon us. Dragon-fire and ruin. If you awaken that beast, it will destroy us all."

This man's speech caused the excitement from the crowd to shift anxiously. Thorin noticed this as did Keeva, perhaps it was time for her to come out from the shadows?

"You can listen to this naysayer, but I promise you this; If we succeed, all will share in the wealth of the mountain. You will have enough gold to rebuild Esgaroth ten times over!"

Keeva stepped out from behind the Master, her gaze pointed on Bard, who began to speak again after Thorin had made his case, "All of you! Listen to me! You must listen! Have you forgotten what happened to Dale?!"

The crowd began to quiet down, a sadness seeping from their hearts, "Have you forgotten those who died in the firestorm?! And for what purpose? The blind ambition of a mountain-king so riven by greed, he could not see beyond his own desire!"

"And yet you would rather leave the threat to remain for a later date," Keeva jeered, her voice strong and loud for all to hear. Bard, Thorin, everyone's eyes landed on her small figure descending the staircase. The dwarves' eyes grew at the sight of her, some grinning with relief and pure joy, as if they'd seen a mountain filled with gold for the first time. Bard, however, frowned but it never deterred the Halfling stating her opinion, "How will you ever know a prophecy is true unless you try? I've had my fair share of prophecies, my own being brought up not too long ago. And I don't think I'll have a mere mortal man keep me from our quest."

Bard was bewildered, the Halfling stopping right in front of him giving him the most threatening of stares – one that challenged the bargeman at anything he'd throw her way. The Master, now realizing his guest was part of a much bigger plan, stepped forward to cool the terrain so to speak. "Now, now, we must not, any of us, be too quick to lay blame. Let us not forget that it was Girion, Lord of Dale, your ancestor, who failed to kill the beast."

"It's true, sire. We all know the story: arrow after arrow he shot, each one missing its mark," Alfrid added, a sly grin on his face. The crowd yells angrily and Bard begins to look around with a burden weighing heavily on him. But he strides to Thorin and speaks earnestly, "You have no right, no right to enter that mountain!"

Keeva pushed the man back, her eyes glaring, "He has every right."

"The only right," Thorin added, placing a firm hand on Keeva's shoulder. Thorin then turned to face the Master, "I speak to the Master of the men of the Lake. Will you see the prophecy fulfilled? Will you share in the great wealth of our people? What say you?"

For several seconds the Master thinks and the smiles as he points his finger at Thorin, "I say unto you- Welcome! Welcome and thrice welcome, King under the Mountain!"

The Master opens his arms and the crowd began to erupt into cheers and song. Bard looked on in silence. Thorin turned to pulled Keeva into a bear of a hug and she in return hugged him just as dearly. When Thorin released Keeva, she turned to find Fili waiting at the bottom of the steps staring up at her, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. Keeva couldn't help but grin from ear to ear as she leapt forward and clung to Fili's neck and hugged him fiercely. Fili wrapped his arms around her tight, not caring for once on this quest who or what was watching, because once he'd set her tiny feet onto the wood planks beneath them, Fili gently cradled Keeva's face in his hands and placed his warm lips upon her sweet ones. Keeva's eyes grew wide from the shock but something in her brain clicked with the realization that this was what she'd been waiting for and she let her lids droop slowly until her own hands traced up Fili's bold arms to grasp the fabric tight from the anticipation that had built up in her pounding heart. Dwalin and Balin chuckled at the sight, even Bofur and Bombur grinned from ear to ear as the rest of their company jeered at Fili teasingly after he'd respectfully pulled away from the young Halfling to give her some air. She clung to him tightly, her knees weak and her cheeks the loveliest shade of pink. Even the tips of her ears were tinged with a reddish hue.

"Come, my guest!" the Master called from the top of the stairs. "Let us give you living arrangements for the time being and celebrate to our new alliance!"

…

The rest of the night continued in the great hall with wine, ale, and foods varying in all sorts of shapes and colors. The dwarves had not had such a delight since their short stay in the House of Beorn. The gathering lasted all night and even into the break of morning light. But for Keeva, who was still trying to recover from the breaking of Elvish magic and spells, the night was short – much more to her delight. She'd found herself taking up the bed given to her by the Master when she'd first showed up on his door step. It was a modest room, with tapestries on the walls and a double bed stuffed with the finest of wool. It reminded her of what it would be like to sleep on a cloud in the sky, sinking into the embrace of a higher grace.

Fili had followed not too far behind; he'd been given a room to share with his brother but instead found solace with the one woman he couldn't be separated from. The thought of being away from her after they'd been force to for so long even pained him. So to ease that growing fear, he slipped into the bed with her, much like their previous arrangement at the beginning of the quest after they'd left the House of Elrod – Keeva having nightmares then about a persistent assassin and the dragon she'd feared would destroy her and her friends. It was something he found he'd missed for quiet sometime; being close enough to smell the lovely aroma of rosemary and mint that intertwined with her untamed locks. Even the warmth radiating off her skin eased the little bit of darkness from his heart.

Fili stared upon her sleeping face, her eyes heavy with the sands of Akatosh as she would say most often, and he gently brushed a hand against her cheek before he bent down to kiss her forehead. He'd looked on her many a times, wondering which parts of her features were inherited from her elvish mother or her Nordic father. He liked to think her buttoned snub nose what from her father, always imagining the elvish to be a bit sharper in their features, which led Fili to believe that her gentle yet pointed-at-the-corner eyes were from her mother, as well as the full bottom lip. But what he was quite positive about was that her thin brows, pointed ears and unruly hair definitely belonged to her mother. The rest of her seemed to fall into her father's favor, save for the height of course.

Whatever he'd done, whether it was the brush of her cheek or his lips on her skin, it woke Keeva with a pleasant smile sometime in the middle of the night and thus ended his little admiring session. When she gazed up at the culprit she couldn't help but smile.

"Mmm- I must apologize," Fili began, his teeth showing with his bright smile, "I had not meant to wake you. I just could not help myself."

Keeva giggled lightly in the dark, the light of the moon giving her all the light she needed to see Fili's features as she pushed herself up, cupping Fili's cheek and placing a sweet kiss upon his lips, his whiskers tickling her face. "Oh, you're not sorry. Doesn't matter."

"Good," Fili finalized with a chuckle, "because I'm tempted to do that more often."

This statement cause Keeva to pause and she bit her lip with a slight anxious feeling building in her stomach. She had almost let herself even believe that statement for a second, dreaming of every morning waking up just like this, she in Fili's arms, warm, and protected. She could even imagine the smell of him washing over her as she slept with him over time. And then, just as suddenly as it came it went away. Keeva was struck with the fact that this life that she had dreamed of would never happen. She knew the minute that her quest was finished she'd be whisked away by Fokeinvokul back to Skyrim, stuck to finish his death mission to defeat Alduin.

Fili noticed the sag in her features, "What's the matter?"

"Fili-" Keeva tried, but she found the words getting stuck in her throat, unable to unlodge them. "I-"

Fili took hold of her hand and gripped the back of her neck, his thumb brushing her jawline almost distractingly. Keeva almost forgot what she needed to say with that simple touch but she forced herself back into the hot seat and gave a great sigh, hoping that would allow the words to leave her lips. "Fili, I don't think I have much time left on Middle Earth."

…

A/N: It's been a while again, I know. I'd lost some interest in this for a bit, focusing on work and pretty much not feeling like doing anything after I get home. But I started reading some stories on here again and got me back into the swing of things, so now I'll be able to finish. I've got to thank many of you for sticking around and waiting for these updates. Seriously, you all are amazing.

I've not much else to mention or say, other than I'll try to have the next update out sometime next week. Hope you enjoyed!

Disclaimer: I don't own The Hobbit or Elder Scrolls. Any character that is not familiar is of my own creation.