Benders: Dragonfire

Rotting Crowns

Thank you to jijifiji, fateclaws, joellamariah, Silrien45, and IamTheNightWalker for commenting and voting on the previous chapter! I am so thrilled to see you all again as this tale begins. 

Thank you to blackgokurealy and jijifiji for kindly adding this book to their reading lists! 

"Ada demands the presence of Thorin," Realn declared, coming to a stop behind Brenen. "We are to bring him up and be mindful, as the dwarf is as savage as a loose spider."

"I have been on guard for the past day," Brenen smirked, grinning at his second quadruplet. "I will be careful."

"I almost feel for the dwarf," Realn mused as he and Brenen jogged down the stairs into the dungeon. "Ada is sure to explode."

Brenen pursed his lips. "What do you propose; murder in cold blood?" He chuckled. "I will stay to calm him if ada decides to roast Thorin."

Realn looked doubtful as he buried the key in his hands into the lock of Thorin's cell and pulled the door open. Tucking the key away, he faced the sullen dwarf within.

"King Thranduil requires and audience with you," Realn announced. He stepped back and gestured to Thorin. "If you will come with us?"

"What if I do not care to grace that orc with my presence?" Thorin growled.

"Shall I come back another day?" Realn inquired. His eyes turned hard. "It is not a choice you can control. Please come with us."

"Which one are you?" Thorin growled as he stalked from the cell, shrugging off Realn's attempt to grab his forearm.

Brenen and his brother exchanged worried glances, thinking it unwise for a smoldering Thorin to meet and equally smoldering Thranduil at the throne.

"Do you not want to see the demon who spawned you die?" Thorin sneered.

Brenen stopped and glared at the dwarf. "I am tired of hearing you insult my family. My brothers and I are quadruplets, created by nothing more than love!"

"Your mother must be a lump," Thorin sneered.

Brenen gritted his teeth as he marched behind the dwarf. I hope ada can control himself for I am already on the verge of eruption.

They climbed the stairs and platforms weaving through the palace until the high dais of the King's platform rose into view. Thorin stepped onto it with a grunt, eyes fixed on the throne as his lips curled.

Jeweled branches spread out behind Thranduil, matching the twined twigs of his crown. The throne was carved from a giant root, draped with the folds of the king's black and red mantle.

Brenen and Realn stood at the head of the stairs, hands behind their back as they watched with anxious expressions.

Thorin met Thranduil's eyes with a sneer. "Does the great King Thranduil demand a bow? What have you summoned me for, demon? If it is to offer your aid, send me to my cell! I would take the aid of an orc before yours. Sit here like the coward you are until the trees rot around you!"

If Thranduil had managed to control his temper before, he now exploded. Rising and leaning forward into Thorin's face, he spat, "I would rather aid mortals then you! It was not act of cowardice that kept me from you in your hour of need; I needed my people here, to defend my own home."

"You spin webs of lies," Thorin declared.

"I do not. I would have come to you, Thorin Oakenshield, but if I had, the evils of Dol Guldor would have overtaken this part of the world."

"Filth!" Thorin returned. "With your powers—"

"My powers do not open all the doors of the universe. I am one elf. But, with your powers, you may be able to kill a dragon . . ."

Thorin's eyes flickered. Thranduil said, "You are untrained, and your bending uncontrollable, but I am willing to teach you."

"Never!" Thorin bellowed. "I do not care to learn from an elf who models as much as a rotting corpse!"

Thranduil's eyes blazed. "I will not be insulted in my own home by the likes of you!"

"And I would rather learn to bend on my own," Thorin spat.

"Lightning is a wild thing, Thorin," Thranduil warned.

"As wild as dragonfire?" Thorin returned.

Thranduil's eyes darkened. "Do not speak to me of dragonfire. I know more of it then you could gain in a thousand lifetimes."

Thorin recoiled as the scar on Thranduil's cheek opened. "You are more monster then I thought! What evil have you condemned your sons to?"

Realn stiffened with indignation, throwing an angry look at Thorin as Brenen laid a hand on his arm.

"We all know of the generosity, the willingness to help, the kindness of King Thranduil!" Thorin bellowed, striding to the edge of the platform. "In years he has not changed."

Thranduil's hands curled and Brenen saw smoke escape them. "Then sit in my dungeons until the walls crumble over your bones!"

He collapsed into the throne and fumed. "You almost killed my son! Despite seeing him in pain, writhing in agony, I was willing to help you, and this is how I am received! Take him out of my sight!"

Brenen hesitated, unsure of what to say before he and Realn accosted Thorin and dragged him out of harm's way. Down below, paused on the stairs under the throne platform, a book under one arm and a scroll in hand, Mykar Thranduilion considered what he had heard. His face a mask of studious thought, fingers stained with ink, he continued to climb the stairs, struck by the anger of the situation and seeing no sense in it at all.

Thorin and Thranduil . . . each as proud as the Kings before them. Can we agree this meeting of Kings did not go well?

Thank you for peeking into the pages of this tale! Do let me know who you are through a word!

Next Chapter: Thranduil is indignant. "You, go gallivanting off with a pack of wild dwarves on a quest to unleash a dragon?"