The Earth's Creation- A Thranduil fan fiction

Lossmir

Naur sat for a long while in her ashen wasteland. What creatures had lived here? What flowers had bloomed here? What trees had taken root here? All that beautiful life destroyed by her ferocious flames. 

Tears tipped out of her Ruby eyes. She pulled her ash covered knees to her chest and cried. She heard rustling leaves and a small squawk. She looked up and saw an albino raven staggering across the ruined forest floor. It was burnt very, very, badly on its right side. The white feathers were burned away and she could see its bones. They had been charred black. The poor creature had moments to live. Nuar scrambled forwards. The creature squawked at her and lamely tried to peck her hands as she picked it up. Animals were put off by her. 

"Hush friend. I want only to help," she said, holding the bird to her chest. 

She slowed her breathing and focused on her body. She felt her blood circulating her veins. It was pushed by the steady beat of her heart. She ignited her blood just as she always did before utilizing magic. This time, instead of focusing the power to her hands, she sent it back to her heart. The magic pooled there in her chest; in the spot where her life was centered. If you recall, Sauron had used the fire of Mt.Doom to animate her. It was this fire that kept her alive. It was this fire that gave her magic. 

She pressed a hand to her chest and removed that fire. She could instantly feel her life fading. Quickly, she put the dying bird into her fire. The bird screeched and squawked in agony, but no harm came to it. On the contrary, its bones mended. Its skin reformed. Its feathers regrew. It healed. 

Nuar reabsorbed her fire and drew in a shaky breath as she regained strength. 

The bird examined itself in shock. It then hopped onto Naur's shoulder and affectionately nipped her earlobe. Naur smiled at her new friend. This bird would live so long as her fire burned. 

"Hello friend," she said, stroking the bird's head. "I am very sorry for what I have done to your home. I hope you can forgive me."

The raven squawked lightly, pecked Naur's finger, then nuzzled her finger. 

"I shall take that to mean maybe," Naur said, smiling. "At least I could save you," she said, looking at the ash field once more. 

She sighed and rose to her feet. She did her best to wipe the ash from her costume, but twas to no avail. The bright colors of her yellow top and skirt of purple, red, and gold had been muted by the soot. Naur began wading through the wasteland. She breathed anew when she reentered the thriving autumn forest. Only three things excited her more than the sight and scent of a fall forest: The first flower of spring, freshly fallen snow, and the smile of King Thranduil. 

Thranduil was such an icy elf. Naur knew a blizzard raged inside him. But, when he smiled, that wintry storm became a forest dripping with diamond snow. A beautiful sight it was to see Thranduil happy. Naur felt a deep ache. She had caused him such pain. She had done her best to convince him, and herself, he would only be pained more if she stayed, and now, she was more convinced than ever. She would be so ashamed if he saw her flames of death. 

"You need a name, friend," Naur said to the bird still perched on her shoulder. "You are strange, just as I am. A raven with feathers of snow. Such a lovely creature should certainly have an evlish name. Heleg? Loss?" 

The bird pecked Naur's ear. 

"Neither of those. Alright, how about Helegmir?"

The bird ruffled its feathers. 

"Lossmir?"

The bird cooed and puffed up its chest. 

"Very well, Lossmir it is. You are indeed a snow gem," Naur said, stroking the bird's back with her index finger. It's feathers were glossy and soft.