"What!"
Her scream echoed in the hall and with a fierce motion she threw the glass she had been holding into the wall beside the messenger. The young man threw himself onto his knees and begged her forgiveness, shaking his head, pleading. She raised her dress and descended from the throne, with her eyes blazing in anger she grabbed hold of the mans hair and raised his head, staring deep into his eyes. The man trembled in her grasp, she could feel his fear yet where she once would have been satisfied by it she didn't pause, placing her other hand onto the mans cheek she shouted straight to his face:
"Who did this! Who!"
In her frustration she struck the man, again and again, she didn't even hear him trying to speak between the blows. Grasping his throat and embedding her long nails into his skin she finally managed to control her rage and as the man coughed and did his best not to look at her she looked to the side and nodded. Two armored figures stepped out from the shadows and without hesitation they tore the man from their mistress, her nails leaving thin lines of blood upon his throat.
"Very well..." she said, drawing her fingers through her hair and adjusting her dress.
"You come here, telling me the most grievous news in years, yet you do not have the courage to tell me who it is that has done this to me?"
Where she stood in the hall, before her throne, she looked magnificent. The light from the great hearth beside the throne dancing around the curves of her body, her dress shimmering and her black hair framing her face perfectly. The man finally dared to look upon her, gasping as he saw her beauty he begun to mumble, silently at first but then with more courage.
"It was...It was the Black Bear my Lady, the southern man from Dor-Hallas. He came with...and he managed to do what no man has been able to do. He...he killed the Iron Prince..."
She could not believe this, no man could kill her cousin and especially not one from as far away as Dor-Hallas. She had lost it, lost her hold of Angmar due to her cousins inability to take precautions. Being a man of the sword he was devoted to the strength of arms rather then wits. For months she had been given reports of these men from the south, their bright colored banner with the black, rearing Bear. For months she had not had word from her cousin, now she know why. Perhaps the dream she had all those nights ago was no dream after all, the fall of her fortress in Angmar, her cousins head on a pike. No, she shook her head and refused to settle with the thought of loss. Sitting down onto her throne she gazed into the fire, her guards still holding the trembling man. As the flames bowed and danced before her, her mind drifted back to the dream. She remembered speaking to a tall, black haired man at the battlements of the stronghold of Dor-Hallas. The courtyard below filled with people and the warm wind caressing her skin, she remembered the man talking about thins no man alive to this date would know. She remembered how his words made her feel weak, so, so vulnerable. With the hatred still burning in her eyes she looked back at the man who had given her these news.
"And where is this bear now? What of the lords who pledged their lives to me, what have they done to stop him?"
The man swallowed, not wishing to tell the truth. But as the guards tightend their hold of him he more or less squealed the words.
"They are no more, the alliances and bonds are broken my Queen. The Bear has spread fear into them and they have deserted us."
The dark queen stood up and let out yet another chilling scream of anger and hate, the flames in the hearth seemed to roar with her and the hall trembled by her voice. She begun to walk from side to side in front of the golden seat. Gesturing while talking to herself:
"The warlords of Angmar swore by blood, they are bound to me until death. This cannot be, after all this time and all the planning. What did I not see, what lay hidden before my eyes?"
The wind howled in the cold dark night outside the small fortress, a reminder of the harsh lands she had been forced to retreat to. Long had she been away from the world, long had she sat still and biding her time. Taking care of her son, raising him, teaching him, but to what reason now? Her cousins death could not have come in a more bad time, she needed him despite their differences and without his cunning in battle she would stand no chance in an open war. She knew this, the Bear of Dor-Halls knew this, but how? Suddenly a knock on the heavy doors to the great hall. A frail servant girl rushed to the doors and opened them, another messenger had arrived and by the looks of him he had rushed to speak her. She nodded for the messenger to approach and as he knelt before her he raised his hand, holding a letter. Taking a few gentle strides down the throne she took the letter and looked at the seal, a bear, standing on its hind legs. Before she opened it she gestured for the man to leave her and as the doors shut behind him she opened the letter and read it. After a moment she walked down towards the first messenger, pointing to the great doors she spoke with a clear voice.
"Feed him to the crows and when your done, prepare the guards, we are leaving by first light"
