The airships of the Dracagoth sailed silently through the twilight skies, their dark sails billowing softly in the cold winds. Dragons soared above the massive ships, their black wings cutting through the evening air as they flew carrying the vessels below. High above Middle-earth, the ships cast long shadows over the land as they made their way toward the distant homeland of the Dracagoth, leaving behind the looming threat of war that brewed around the Lonely Mountain.
On the deck of the lead ship, (Y/n) stood with her arms crossed, her sharp gaze fixed on the horizon. She looked every bit the queen she was—commanding, resolute, yet weighed down by the storm of emotions brewing within her. Hades remained close by, his piercing eyes reflecting the same quiet strength as his mistress.
The wind tugged at (Y/n)'s cloak, but she remained still, her mind racing. She had left Dale with purpose, determined to return her people to the safety of their homeland and to perform the ancient rites for Smaug. Her duty to the Dracagoth was clear. But as the hours passed and the distance between her and the Lonely Mountain grew, an unease gnawed at the edges of her resolve.
Her soldiers, hardened warriors, moved quietly around the ship, though their eyes frequently strayed to the mountain they had left behind. Below them, through the thinning clouds, the armies of orcs began to emerge like ants—dark figures marching steadily toward Erebor. The ground was black with their numbers, and the banners of Gundabad flew high above the hordes.
One of her soldiers, standing at the edge of the deck, peered over the side, his sharp eyes widening as he saw the massive force advancing toward the mountain. He turned, his voice filled with tension. "My lady!" he called out. "(Y/n)!"
(Y/n) turned, her expression calm but expectant.
The soldier hurried toward her, his brow furrowed with concern. "Will we not help them?" he asked, a note of desperation in his voice. "The armies of men and elves—they will be overwhelmed."
(Y/n) held his gaze steadily. "Their path is their own," she replied, her voice firm. "We do not owe them anything."
Her words, spoken with such finality, hung heavy in the air. The soldier blinked, clearly struggling with her decision. He opened his mouth to argue, but before he could speak, one of the guards—an older, battle-worn warrior—stepped forward. His face, lined with the scars of countless battles, was grim.
"But, my queen..." the guard began, his voice carrying the weight of experience. "They are not prepared. We passed Gundabad on our way here."
At the mention of Gundabad, (Y/n) froze. Her eyes, sharp as steel, locked onto the guard's.
"Gundabad?" she repeated, her voice quieter now, though no less intense.
The guard nodded, his expression dark. "Yes. The enemy is making his move from Gundabad. The fortress is alive with orc legions. If the mountain falls... Angmar will rise."
A heavy silence followed his words. The implication was clear. If Angmar rose again, all of Middle-earth would be in peril, not just Erebor. The darkness that had once covered the land would return, and it would not stop with the dwarves. The elves, the men of Dale, even the Shire and Gondor would be at risk. The fall of Erebor would be the beginning of the end.
(Y/n) hesitated, her mind torn between duty and conscience. The words of Gandalf echoed in her memory—war was coming, and her people were among the few who could stand against the tide of darkness. Yet, her anger still simmered beneath the surface, her grief over Smaug's death still raw.
Her fingers tightened around the hilt of her sword as she looked down at the approaching armies below. Her soldiers waited, their eyes on her, seeking direction. She could feel their tension, their unspoken fear. The Dracagoth had never turned away from a fight. They had always faced darkness head-on, no matter the cost.
The guard stepped closer, his voice quieter now, but full of meaning. "Tell me, my queen... when did we let evil become stronger than us?"
His words cut through her hesitation like a blade. She had led her people through countless battles, and had stood against enemies that sought to break them. She had sworn an oath to protect Middle-earth from the shadow of Sauron, just as her mother had before her. Was she now going to abandon that promise?
Her mind flashed back to the battle long ago at Gundabad, where she had lost everything. Her mother had died fighting the very evil that now threatened to rise again. Could she truly turn her back on the people of Middle-earth, knowing the devastation that would follow if Angmar was allowed to rise once more?
The silence stretched as (Y/n) wrestled with her decision. Her heart ached with the weight of it. She had wanted to leave this war behind, to return to Dracagoth and honour her fallen, to heal from the pain that had consumed her since Smaug's death. But the words of her guard echoed in her soul.
When did we let evil become stronger than us?
With a deep breath, (Y/n) lifted her head, her decision made. She turned to face her soldiers, her voice filled with the strength of a leader who had chosen her path.
"Prepare for battle," she commanded, her tone as sharp as the wind that whipped through the air. "We turn back."
The soldiers stiffened, their eyes brightening with both surprise and determination. They had always followed (Y/n), and now, as before, they would follow her into the heart of the storm.
The dragons that soared alongside the airships let out deep, rumbling roars as if sensing the shift in their queen's resolve. They circled back toward the mountain, their dark wings cutting through the clouds like shadows of war.
(Y/n) stepped toward the edge of the ship, her gaze fixed on the Lonely Mountain in the distance. She could see the armies gathering, and could feel the dark power that hung over the battlefield. The time for mourning was over. She had grieved for Smaug, for her mother, for the losses she had endured. But now, she was a queen. And her people were not ones to stand by while evil rose unchecked.
As the airships turned and the Dracagoth soldiers readied themselves for war, (Y/n) remained at the helm, her eyes cold and determined. This was not just a fight for the Lonely Mountain. This was a fight for Middle-earth. She had left Dale in anger, but now, she returned with vengeance.
Evil would not rise again. Not while she still lived.
YOU ARE READING
Lonely Dragon {Legolas x Reader}
Fanfiction(Y/n) or The Lonely Dragon, a name that was known across Middle Earth. Feared....admired.....worshipped All she wanted was to be normal, but that wasn't the case. She was made to be a weapon of war, the spawn of Sauron himself. His plan B if the Rin...
