Where the sole survivor of the Asha race, seeks revenge to the dragon who burned her home to the ground. When coming in contact with the old pilgrim, Gandalf the Grey, she gets thrown into the company of thirteen dwarves and a rather uncomfortable h...
Luna cannot say goodbye to this fic, so expanding the story it is
Tw: Yeah, it's not better than the last two chapters. Injuries, blood, description of pain. So much trauma and it's only been one chapter. Descriptions of unconscious (near death experience). Kili is angry and in pain and living through all five stages of grief. Detailed descriptions of a panic attack (now certified because I'm speaking from experience. It's not all yee-haw as in the fics, lemme tell you)
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When she woke, it wasn't graceful or peaceful. The sun wasn't shining on her face; there was no warmth nor ethereal light. There was silence, but not comforting as she had always dreamed of. This one was dreadful, and threatening. The first thing she processed was the freezing wind blowing through her clothes. Her skin didn't respond to it as she had anticipated, but she felt the gnawing cold of the winter air finding its way underneath her tunic.
The second thing she noticed was a heavy block forming in her head, pounding against her skull to try to find a way out. Once more, her body couldn't respond to the feeling, but it registered it all the same.
The third thing she felt, was the burning flesh on her back. As if she was soaked, her tunic clung to the wounds, but cold air weaved into her skin, liquid pooling around her. It took a while for her to understand the pool hadn't been freezing as the rest of her body was. This was warm.
The fourth thing her brain processed was the restriction in her chest. As if a stone was being smashed against her ribs repeatedly. She couldn't move to fight it.
Noises surrounded her. Like a song performed in a foreign language; she had no idea what was being said. She couldn't register the words. But she knew something was there.
Then, a nauseating feeling entered the pit of her stomach. Another punch to her chest.
Something rose in her throat. She couldn't tell what it was. Again, her body remained irresponsive. Another punch to her chest.
She wished for her hands to shoot up. To block her from her attacker. She could feel the bruises growing. The tightening around her lungs was sickening. Another punch to her chest.
Her lungs. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't even panic at the realisation. Another punch to her chest. This one was harder than the other had been. It would have knocked all air out if there was any.
Her mind reeled as she fought herself. To send any form of signals to her limbs. Some form of movement. Another rough hit to her chest.
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