Melantha of Tir'Inath: The Barbarian Queen (ON HOLD)

A Negotiation And A Warning That Came True

Melantha and Bard's fast mares caught up with Thranduil's majestic elk at the gates of the Mountain.
Melantha was awed. She had forgotten, in all those years away from the lands she was born, how great was the craftsmanship of the Children of Aule. The Negotiation had started and just as Melantha had predicted it wasn't long before Thorin turned to her, although indirectly.
"I DO NOT BELIEVE THE WORD OF MEN WHO CONSORT WITH EASTERILNG WHORES!"
Melantha looked as calm as ever but Bard looked at her worryingly. He knew that she looked calm but the way a sky is calm right before a storm was about to break.
She calmly looked up to him and finally spoke, her voice as steadfast as though she hadn't just been called a whore:" Forgive me for choosing not to be distressed by the words of a man who behaves like a common thief, a man who goes back on his word, a trait found only in the lowest of men! I have no quarrel with your people, Thorin Oakenshield. I only want the one thing that the Dragon brought with him from the North. The Crown of Blood and Coal. A tiara of black obsidian with the Ruby of Es Khanem, my only tie to my human family. Give me this and you shall have peace and the Arkenstone, as was promised".
"YOU ARE IN NO POSITION TO MAKE PROMISES, BITCH! YOU ARE AN INTRUDER AND A SAVAGE. THE CROWN DOES NOT BELONG TO YOU. EVERYTHING UNDER THIS MOUNTAIN BELONGS TO ME AND ME ALONE!"
"I would have brought each and every one of you down, choked by your own blood, but I shall not.". And as she waved her hand in the air three birds dropped dead from the sky, right to the dwarves' feet. "Witch!", one of them screeched and Nori picked one dead bird up and said, his voice trembling: "It's drowned...in its own blood."
Thranduil looked perplexed, if not slightly disgusted. Bard looked terrified, from the dead birds and the dwarves to Melantha. Gandalf had mentioned that she was a being of immense power but he had never thought how deep that well of power run. Melantha still looked as serene as ever, the wind slightly brushing her feathered armor and some wayward curls that went astray from her half braided hair. She spoke once more: "As you can see, Thorin Oakenshield, much unlike you, I never go back on my word. But I believe that you should know why I did not do the same thing to you."
"WHY, then? What stops you from killing us all and you and those friends of yours march up INSIDE MY KINGDOM, and take everything from ME??"
"Because of you. There is no point in killing you, Thorin Oakenshield. The Dragon sickness will get you first. I have seen it before and as it appears, I will witness it destroying yet another one of your kind, choking away your sense and eat away your mind, piece by piece."
"ENOUGH! YOU ARE ALL LYING THIEVES. YOU DON'T HAVE THE ARKENSTONE. YOU'RE LYING!"
"No, Thorin, they're not." a small voice sounded. Melantha recognized it immediately. It belonged to the halfling, the one who admitted to having stolen the keys to Thranduil's dungeons. She had admired him then, but right now she felt the ever familiar grip of fear in her stomach. Thranduil still looked impassive and Bard looked at Melantha, confusion visible in the clear blue of his eyes. Melantha, didn't know what was going on but she knew something was wrong. Then Gandalf's voice boomed through the amassed armies, demanding his... burglar?.. back.
Then there was a sound, like a building being brought down and everyone turned to look at where the sound came from. There was a glorious look painted on Thorin's face and Gandalf's had gone gray, his gray blue eyes cloudy.
Melantha overheard the conversation between Gandalf and Bilbo the hobbit, and she learnt that the dwarf was called Dain and he was none other than Thorin's cousin. As all three armies turned to look at the newly arrived Dwarves, Dain begun to speak, insulting first of all Thranduil, who looked extremely amused at being called "a woodland sprite" and at which Melantha couldn't help but suppress a chuckle. Bard noticed and once again he caught himself laughing silently with her. This had never happened to him in a long time and he started wondering whether the initial attraction wasn't as superfluous as he thought it was. There was something about this woman that he couldn't quite put his mind around. He knew she was old, older than she looked and that she was powerful, in a lethal way. His mind screamed for how dangerous she could get but his heart refused to listen. All those thoughts came to an abrupt end where there was a sound so deep and at the same time screeching that everyone looked seriously alarmed, except for Melantha. There was a look of utter disappointment and numbness on her face and she turned to Gandalf and said: "Giant Worms. That's what drove us away. Exile was not a choice offered. We took it ourselves."
Dain shouted: "OH COME ON"
The next few moments passed swifter than a blink of an eye. Melantha shouted something in her tongue and her army formed anew, ready to attack. Bard tried to calm his men but it wasn't possible. They were fishmongers and merchants not warriors. Them Melantha approached Thranduil and Bard and ordered them to make their armies draw their swords. They both looked wary at that. There was no telling what Melantha had in mind. But Bard, somehow chose to obey her first. Melantha approached one of his men and touched the blade he wielded. She whispered some words a couple of times and the man's sword, as well as anyone else's sword caught fire but not a normal looking fire. This flame was of the same colour as her eyes, a deep, strange Violet. Thranduil couldn't help letting out a small exclamation of surprise. Then he whispered: "This is impossible!"
But before he could object, Melantha moved to the first elf and repeated the same words and, just as before, the same result followed. Dain looked at her in shock and what couldn't be mistaken as a mixture of fear and admiration. But his Dwarven army had already taken their places as the Elves, charged too at the horrible Orcs in what was the most strange and impressive way possible, their swords blazing violet and red.
Melantha took a deep breath. The time to make a stand had arrived.