Devotion (Thorin/OC)

Chapter 28: the mark

Luka POV ( picture is of the mark...you will understand once you read the chapter)

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I felt numb...empty...but angry at the same time. Thankfully, I managed to hide the powerful emotion. It was strong but it was also like it wasn't there. I was confused. I felt the need to hunt burning in my veins, and that was never good.

The company was spread around the hall, doing various tasks. I had moved to sit on one of the stone benches, staring blankly into the fire. Screams echoed in my memories, slipping past my guard. Trees...fire swallowing everything in its path, orcs slaughtering innocent families. My father, a sword in his chest, eyes holding mine as he screamed in pai-. I pinched my nose sighing, trying to control the memories once more. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes.

I felt like something was off. While the others seemed to have settled, cooking dinner and examining the ruins of my old home, I felt...different. I hadn't felt any other emotion but anger in a while. It was like a constant supply. I growled softly and ran a hand through my hair.

"What the hell is happening to me...?" I whispered to myself...to anyone in hopes of getting an answer. It was almost like this place was influencing me.

Though I hadn't eaten anything in a long time, I wasn't hungry. I felt the stab of pain in my stomach, but still I did not want food. Even with the delicious smell of cooking meat, I didn't want to eat. The fire was strong and cast light across the hall, it wasn't strong enough to make us sweat. But that just it, I felt like I was in the middle of a fire. I shook my head, trying to clear it.

What was happening.

"Are you alright, my dear?" Gandalf's voice snapped me out of whatever trance I had been in, sitting down beside me. I looked at him, having a hard time focusing on him.

"I'm-I'm not sure...I feel....strange" i murmured, running a hand through my hair.

"Hmm, I must say you don't look very good" Gandalf observed, frowning. I grunted in returned.

"The dwarves seemed to be having a great time! Bilbo hasn't stopped inspecting the carvings on the walls either. Go see him, see if taking a walk will help." I did as he said without another word, pulling myself up and shuffled over to the far corner where Bilbo stood with Balin.

"It's interesting isn't it?" I laughed, standing beside them and putting my hands behind my back. Bilbo jumped, eyes wide while Balin just nodded, not taking his eyes off the stone wall.

"Each carving tells a story, or a legend. Here, look-" I told them, pointing to a carving of a woman turning into a wolf in stages "- this one is about Rakhaeel the Red. She was one of the greatest Chieftesses to ever rule over our tribe. She was my great, great, great grandmother."

"So you have royal blood...in a sense?" Bilbo asked, curiosity shining in his eyes. I smiled at him, looking behind us at the throne.

"In a way, yes. A chief or chieftess are our equivalent of a King or Queen. My father was the last ruler to ever sit on that throne. I was his heir, my brother his second. I was the first in a generation after my ancestor to carry the wolf gene. It is a rare animal to shift into." I sighed, running my hand over the carving of the wolf. It stood proudly, looking strong and stoic.

"Wh-what's out there?" I heard a timid voice asked from beside me. I glanced at Bilbo and gulped.

"I don't actually know...but I think I have an idea." I muttered, looking back at the stone carvings.

"Come, we must eat and then talk" I told Bilbo, looking over to the fire where everyone was gathering. Balin had also managed to slip off, and was now whispering in Thorins ear. Thorin nodded then looked up at me. What had Balin said...?