The Dark Dragon of Middle Earth

A Quest

I own nothing except for Elanor. Tolkien and Jackson are the true owners of The Hobbit. Please enjoy as this is my first Hobbit story.

"Text" is normal speech

"Text" is Dwarvish

Text is thoughts

"Text" is Elvish

Please remember these, as I won't give most reminders and because I'm sure to screw it up anyway.

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Darkness is all I see. I look through closed eyes as I feel pain all over my body, mostly from my sides. I grunt as another wave comes through. I feel my blood leaving my aching body, but I can no longer feel my arms to hold my hand against it. I try to fight them again, but I can't. The tears fall, reminding me I'm still in this hell.

Do you want help, or do you want to die here?   Shut up and hurry. I need to get up!  I really don't need to hear any crap from that part of me right now. I need to get up and see if anyone survived. When the pain dulls to an ache, I sit up slowly. I sigh long and loud in my head because I know I'm going insane due to old age. I feel like I have bags under my eyes due to that comment. 

It's not my fault entirely I didn't see an orc coming behind me. I don't have eyes in the back of my head! I slowly open my eyes. Smoke still floats in the air, and the sunlight blinds my still sensitive eyes. 

I look around and sigh out loud. I tried to save a village of humans from orcs, but then Bolg came and made it more difficult for me to contain myself. He ended up behind me somehow, and slashed at me with his damn sword. Now I might have a new scar on my back. It'll go straight across the middle of the scars. I saved a majority of the villagers, but there are bodies of mostly old men and women. I sigh again when I see my torn clothes and dirty skin. I swear, I end up being so dirty, despite being an elf.

I walk around, and pick up bodies. I place the men and women in a line near the village's graves, and put the orcs in a big pile outside the village and set them on fire. When the survivors arrive, the last of the orcs had burned, and the sun had set. I help with the burials, and they offer whatever clothes and food can be given. I thank them and promise my services. Then I walk a few miles away. When I look back, the hill covers any view to me. I look forward and start to strip. I place my torn clothes in my bag, and shift.

My skin turns into black scales, my nails into pearl-white claws, horns appear on my head, my eyes expand until they grow into giant gold circles, a slit can be seen, a tail grows and expands into a point at the end. My body expands until I reach my full height. I look back, and see no one around. None of the villagers can notice a black dragon, anyway, during this time. I stretch and yawn, then stretch my wings. I jump up with my bag in one of my paws, and fly home. I loop in the air, dive down, and catch myself. I breathe fire at the clouds, and cause water to get on me. I shake myself, getting rid of the water, and continue.

But before I get too close to home, I see a gray blob on a grey horse riding in the direction I am. I fly around and land in front of him. I smile and speak to the wizard, "Gandalf, what a surprise! May I ask why you're journeying to my sister's home?" Gandalf looks at me and chuckles. "I am journeying to your home, Elanor, to see you actually to ask a favor." I chuckle in my deep, but still feminine, voice. "You know how I feel Greyhame(?). It may be where I can be seen resting at, but it is mostly my sister's home, not mine." He shakes his head, and gestures me to follow him. I sigh and do so.

When we reach the treeline, I rush ahead, and hide in a small clearing. I shift back, and change into the torn clothes I was so fond of. I go back out and walk next to him on his steed. Nothing can be heard, save for the crickets, the babbling of the streams, and the rustles of the trees. We make our way to the Elven Kingdom in the center, and arrive. Gandalf gets down and walks with me to the center tree. The horse walks out, and runs to a clearing. When we arrive at the tree, my sister descends with her husband. I smile sweetly at my sister, who always seems to glow with an ethereal light. I have the same effect, but I don't wear dresses often to show it. I differ from my family by having dark, midnight hair and golden eyes while they the typical fair hair of our kin with beautiful sea eyes. I'm considered an oddity among our family, in attitude, powers and appearance. My sister has a more calm demeanor, while I have been compared to having the temper of a dwarf. Being half shifter, I think mine is that of a mild dragon. I am the adventurer, while she is the protector.

While I'm in my world, Gandalf has been speaking to Celeborn, while my sister is smiling at me because of my blank face. She knows I'm thinking and so does everyone else that knows me. Most have thought that I just ignored them, until I do, but I don't to some people. 

Around Middle Earth, I have been known as the Dark Dragon. I mostly fight as my black dragon side, but I will fight as an elleth when I encounter enemies I need to be stealthy about. I have helped Gondor keep back forces of Mordor, I was there at the fall of Sauron as both dragon and elf. I had mixed my two selves for a while, having scales cover my most vulnerable parts, my dagger-like teeth, and extra keen sight. I fought him face to face and lived. I ended up having a deadly scratch from his hand that didn't have his ring. The scratch from his middle finger was the longest, spanning from my left shoulder to my right hip. It bled for a few days, before it stopped and I slipped into a coma due to blood loss. 

I was the second luckiest that day from that war with Isildur himself being the first, as he had chopped off a finger that held the Ring. Soon, men and Elves alike wanted to know what it was like to go against him and live to tell. I told them that I was lucky. Men then spread rumors that the Dark Dragon was killed, but I showed them and they were proven wrong. My kin wanted me to stay on the mend and in our land, but I couldn't stay still after I healed, and made a cloak and jacket made from my dragon scales that came off, along with a special sword I currently have on my waist. I made a few daggers, and my sister had a circlet made from any remainder scales and pieces of my claws that were filed. I always carry it around, should there be a need to prove my identity. Legends passed about me, but most only saw me for my dragon side, so I stayed an elleth for the longest time. I was even at Erebor when Thror showed off the Arkenstone. I stood and bowed alongside Thranduil, and caught the eye of a young dwarf, as I wore the outfit most know me as the Dark Dragon. I had left quickly after seeing the jewel, but not before the young dwarf had asked a few questions.

Smiling at this memory, I remember when the young dwarf had asked to see my face. I pulled my hood down, and he had a shocked face that instantly turned red when I asked him, "What?" "Nothing. It's just, I've never heard of the Dark Dragon being an elleth with gold eyes before." I smiled and nodded. "I'm considered an oddity among my family, mainly because of this. But they don't love me any less", I tell him. He had nodded, and went back inside with a very red face. I snap out of my thoughts when I hear my name being said in a frustrating tone.