Five years later.

Under many bright and colourful blankets, hidden under the shadow of darkness with the door closed, shutting off any connection to the outside world, a weak but loud groan echoed around the quiet of the room like it was a phantom lullaby of ghosty screams. And the there was another whimper that soon followed the first as sweat gathered along their hairline, twisting their body through the sheets uncomfortably, flashes of something splattering through the walls of their mind, haunting, terrifying and painful as they festered and clawed at her.

Until, of course, the dream hit its frightful climax, and young Nymeria shot up from her bed, breath coming out in panted heaves and her body shaking with shameful fear. And everything hurt, it hurt, it hurt because her magic was blossoming under her skin, under her veins, filling her every crevice with darkness and destruction, tearing her apart from the inside out. The very memory of her dream was turning her mortality to dust as she gasped greedy gulps of air, eyes clenching shut in frustration.

She would not permit her sorrow to destroy her, but that didn't mean she couldn't topple over from time to time. And with that thought in mind, Nymeria sat there for a few dreaded moments, before gathering her bearings with a certain degree of desperation as her hand clenched over her rapidly beating heart, feeling it pound through the tough skin of her chest and worrying that it was eventually going to just tire itself out and stop all together, taking in her surroundings with frantic eyes as she tried to ground herself.

A small wooden chair, with her dark hole-ridden cloak hanging over it, swaying the slightest bit due to the draft coming from the open window, the birds singing songs dancing over her ears pleasantly and calming from outside. A small closet, no doubt filled with the clothes she'd managed to snag over the years, or force her friend to knit and another small dresser filled with ointments for her tremendous back pain. Everything in the room was small, and, technically, not even hers.

Nymeria's heart finally slowed to a normal pace, causing the girl to breath out a quiet sigh of relief, taking the stifling blankets from her body and hissing as the cool air assaulted her naked skin as she stood up, going to take a step and, as usual, forgetting how much lighter she now was, stumbling slightly across the carpet before getting her footing with a curse. And then snarling, she strolled over to her closet and grabbed a few idle pieces of clothes as she tugged them on, flinching when she walked past her mirror and caught sight of her grizzled back, the reason for her haunted mind and dreams that plagued her at night.

She managed to get her shirt on over her head, though not without cursing when a button got caught into her hair and instead of trying to gently unwrap it, she chose to simply yank it out impatiently. And, once she was finally 'decent' she opened the door to her bedroom to start the day, just in time to catch Bilbo Baggins, her very peculiar hobbit, roughly closing the front door that lead to the garden, slamming it shut with wide eyes and holding his body against it sturdily as he fiddled with the locks frantically, unaware of his guest-turned-friend who truly, indeed, had long since overstayed her welcome, watching him in confusion.

"Bilbo, what are you doing?"

"There's a bloody wizard outside! He's talking about adventures and all sorts of dreadful things and he hasn't left yet!" The hobbit paused, tilting his head to the bottom of the door, eyebrows furrowed, then continued just as quickly, "And I think he's scratching at the door!" He hissed, walking towards her and gesturing backwards wildly, before stepping back, quickly rushing out of the window to try and spot him, only to squeak when he met grey eyes staring back at him, quickly rushing back over to the faè who's face had twisted up into a confused scowl.

"What? Move aside."

"Nymeria, you won't hurt him, will you?" Bilbo asked, lips thinning nervously as he moved out of the girls way and stood behind her, watching the door warily as if waiting for it to blow down. However, as much as he was well, yes, he was scared, there was no point in denying it, he still didn't exactly want his friend to actually kill the old man or get blood on his blooming flowers again, especially considering he knew from experience that those stains actually never came out. He had to tell every hobbit that asked that they were all different types of roses...and even still he was pretty sure no one believed him.

"That depends on what he wants." She said, checking that the hobbit was alway fron the possible threat, her teeth baring subconsciously as she stepped forward, unlocking the door to stroll out of the home slowly, legs slightly bent into some form of crouch as she scanned the surrounding area with dangerous eyes and a snarling mouth. Nymeria looked to the left, and then to the right, even glancing up at the blue and peaceful sky above her for any sign of the wizard...but, strangely enough, she found herself coming up empty on any other presence other than herself and the halfling still hiding.

"...Bilbo?"

"Yes?" The hobbit's quiet voice replied from the safety of his home, she cold hear his feet tapping against the floor anxiously as he awaited the inevitable order.

"Come out here for a moment."

"Is he still there?"

"Just come here." Nymeria hissed, patience waning thin just as Bilbo stumbled out of the doorway, hands clenched into fists and eyes slightly narrowed with his shoulders practically caved in on themselves, awaiting the horror he was about to witness...only to freeze in place when he noticed just how alone the taller woman was. He paused, eyes flickering from side to side as he took it in, his garden, while still immaculate, wasn't occupied by the strange wizard, the outside of his gate still looking un-used and abandoned, like the man had never been there in the first place.

"Huh? He was right there- I swear it he- what?" Bilbo stepped forward, fully out of the home as he looked around himself for clues, cupping the back of his head, curls brushing over his fingers as he tried to make sense of it all, Gandalf had most definitely been standing there, hadn't he? Yes, yes, of course he had, his imagination wasn't that interesting.

"Perhaps you've been going too heavy on the ale." Nymeria deadpanned, leaning her shoulder against the door frame and watching with dark eyes as the hobbit moved around in a circle bewilderedly, quite like a dog chasing his tail she thought with some stale amusement, letting a small tendril of chaos curl around her index finger, still a slight bit on edge and never daring to risk any chances when it came to her friend. All though, truly, she wasn't all that worried considering...she was pretty sure it had something to do with that pipe he constantly smoked.

"Right, yes, very funny. I'm telling you, he was standing right there." He gestured off to the side, just over his small gate, jogging forwards to look off down the road and then back up for any sign of the strange wizard, somewhat aware of how strange he looked doing it but not caring because he needed her to see he was telling the truth. Well, he hoped he was telling the truth, because he did remember the old man talking to him, definitely, he couldn't go made that up or imagined it or had some strange hallucination because of a insect bite or something as equally as frightening...right?

"Maybe he disappeared?"

"If you aren't going to take this seriously you might as well go back inside!"

"Oh come on Bilbo, you know I'm only pulling your leg." Nymeria chuckled and took another step outside, feeling the light winds curling over her flushed cheeks, stroking through her stands of hair gently, comfortingly as if reminding her of her longing, all consuming as they tempted forward the memories she'd tried to place under lock and key where they could no longer hurt her. However, a familar sharp and grotesque suddenly agony shot up through her back, circling over her shoulders and crippling her as her legs gave out and she collapsed onto the floor with a cry.

Bilbo instantly spun on his feet, thinking for a moment that the wizard had dropped from a tree or something of the sort for a suprise attack, only for his eyes to go wide before they narrowed, quickly hobbling along over her to help her stand, cupping her elbows softly and grunting with the weight suddenly upon him. "You forgot to take your medicine again now, didn't you?" He scolded, feeling as though he'd had this conversation so many times before and wondering when she was actually going to start listening, ignoring her childish huff and roll of her eyes as she limped along back to the home, leaning her weight onto the hobbit as she did so.

"Slipped my mind."

He pushed her over to his favourite arm chair, the one that had word down over the years to the point it cradled your back at bottom pleasantly and slumped her down upon it, muttering things under his breath as he quickly jogged his large feet into the girls room, tutting with his hands resting on his hips when he noticed the messy state it had been left in before lunging towards a her cabinet and rummaging through it until his fingers clasped around what he was looking for, rushing back out with the medicine in hand.

It was simply a mashed up lilac coloured flower in a small vial, the type that was usually hidden very far into the overgrowth on the outskirts of the shire, pressed under large prickly thorn bushes, so intimidating that most just left the area alone completely, lest they be assaulted by the plant, and yet, if they pushed through the sharp pricks and thistles, you'd find the metaphorical diamond in the rough if you will.

It had been Nymeria that told him of its healing properties, regularly chomping on the flower as if it were delicious and delectable cake, and, of course, he hadn't believed her. His mother hadn't raised him to be a fool, after all. However, he'd caught a vicious cold many years ago, one that left him with such a headache that he'd been bed ridden for days, and Nymeria, finally grown tired of his whining had brought him a cup of tea with the crushed up petals of the strange flower, and almost instantly, his head had cleared.

It was now a regular house hold appliance, something they used every day for something as little as bumps and bruises, but Bilbo was filled with a certain kind of despair at the fact that there was only one vial left, and, if he recalled correctly, it was his turn to go and get more. Which, usually he wouldn't mind, if it were for the fact the thorned vines the plant grew off usually left his hands bleeding and raw. Sometimes he truly did envy Nymeria's tough skin, it was almost impossible to pierce.

"Here you are." Bilbo called around the corner, his face shifting into a frown at her pained look as she tried to keep still, every movement striking the muscles of her back with sharp and grotesque pain that rendered her speechless as it struck it way through her every muscle, her every vein like blooming rot. And then the hobbit was swift to hold the small vial to her bloodied lips, wincing when it was snatched away and gulped down in a hurry...because sometimes his friend really did have all the manners of a wild animal...Completely and utterly feral.

"It's like it's getting worse." Nymeria hissed in frustration, body becoming numb as the flower worked its magic, leaning back against the chair with a huff, dark eyes glistening.

"I told you we should go to a healer. Perhaps even the elves? There is only so much I could do." Bilbo snapped, crossing his arms over his chest and not feeling pity for the girl in front of him in the slightest. It was her own fault, he'd been begging her for years to get her back looked at properly. He'd never known what actually happened to her, never knew what was taken, but what he did know was while she'd slowly recovered, there was one thing that never had. The wounds on her back had scabbed over, yes, but they had never truly healed.

"No. I don't want any other being, elf, hobbit, human or dwarf to see me like this. Ever." Nymeria said in an undertone filled with warning and threat, a type that made sure you listened to her, whether you wanted to or not, but not aimed at the hobbit in front of her, never at him, who sighed in reply as he shook his head and took a step back away from the situation, knowing that if he fell into the abyss of his frustration, they'd only start another argument about all of this...ha, and she called him stubborn.

"Right. Fine. Keep on suffering then. What do I know?" He muttered under his breath because even though he was taking the moral high ground, he couldn't help himself to get the last word in, strolling away to go over to the broken down rack leaning on the wall which he really did have to fix at some point or other before it crumbled all together, finding his favourite long brown coat and pulling it away with a grunt, idly aware of Nymeria watching him with a curious gaze that burned whenever it touched his skin.

"What are you doing?"

"Well that was our last vial. And if you don't want a repeat of just now, I'm going to have to go get some more, aren't I?" He continued to grumble and curse under his breath, shoving his arm into the stubborn coat and pulled it in, lips thinned and brows furrowed as he did so, showing how much he didn't want to do the task at hand but only doing so because as much as he occasionally denied it, there was nothing he wouldn't do for his friend. Nymeria rolled her eyes and stood up carefully, but upon feeling no resistance, straightened her back.

"Oh stop your mutterings, I'll go."

"You will?" Bilbo instantly snapped his head up to look at her as she walked past him, grabbing her black cloak from the bedroom and throwing it over her shoulders.

"Well I'll most certainly get it done faster, won't I? Plus with the morning you've had, I think it'd be safer for you to stay at home. Who knows what you might see next. A dragon perhaps? Or maybe even a troll or two?" She teased good-naturedly, her ethereal face torn apart by malice and grief twisting into an rare, amused smile that truly lit up her usual monotone face as she looked down at him with her teeth bared into a grin that looked more threat no matter how much she tried to soften it, chuckling at his deadpan look as he took his coat off.

"Right yes, really funny." The hobbit replied though his tone implied he was anything but, huffing rather dramatically under his breath as he threw the offending fabric over a rack, already moving towards the kitchen to make a start on their dinner, because lord knows that Nymeria sure wouldn't. He knew that the girl used to eat raw dead animals when she lived in her secluded moors, or at least that's what she'd alluded too whenever she could bring herself to talk about the past. How she didn't catch some sort of disease, he'd never understand, nor did he want too.

"Oh don't be so sour, Bilbo. You know I'm only joking." She called over to him, strolling towards the door once more that had been left wide open in their desperate wake to get her comfortable as quickly as possible, and smirking idly as she watched the smaller being set the kettle on with a grumpy grunt, shaking his hands towards her in a 'shooing' motion without sparing her a glance like he was a fretting mother which most of the time, wasn't exactly that far from the truth considering the way he liked to hover around her shoulder, disapproving of all of her decisions constantly.

"Yes, yes. Go on, if you're late I'm going to eat your share of the dinner."

"You wouldn't dare."
_________________________________________________

The sky was dark by the time Nymeria found the elusive bushes, the stars twinkling by overhead, safe in the heavens above and bearing down onto the girl with their ethereal glow as she breathed, a reminiscent glint in her eyes, remembering times when she'd be up so high with the gentle winds brushing through her hair, over her skin and through her wings, that she was sure she'd be able to touch said stars. But those were just dreams now, and her reality was right here with the faè getting onto her knees, making out the violet orchids at the bottom and slowly slipped her hand in, not seeing the point in wasting her magic on such fruitful endeavors when she knew her skin would heal over the moment she'd released it.

The thorns nipped at her skin, tough and biting as she pushed past them and wrapped her cold fingers around the plant, quickly yanking it up and pulling her hand back, hissing under her breath as the sharp sting before repeating the process over and over again, until she'd finally collected enough, though, she had noticed a few were speckled with blood, so she supposed those ones would most definitely be for her. Bilbo wouldn't even allow the bloodied petals near him, nevermind swallow them.

However, she didn't leave just yet, in fact Nymeria continued to kneel down on the damp grass with a gentle sigh as the winds brushed through her hair affectionately, welcomingly as she allowed a small smile to slip over her features, enjoying the simple moments of peace and tranquility of the mind that she found so rare and hard to find, especially lately, her whole body in turmoil and magic brimming with a certain kind of chaos that terrified her.

But eventually, all good things come to an end, as she noticed how late it was truly getting and how worried her little hobbit friend would be, and eventually stood up, brushing the dirt away from her pants and her cloak, with her small basket full of violet orchids resting on the crook of her elbow, her hands covered in rough cuts that had already begun to scab over and heal until her skin looked like it hasn't been brushed with the thorns cruel touch at all, not even a scar left behind.

Nymeria glanced down at them for a moment, a frown marring her features before she turned and began her trek back, feeling silly that she was jealous of the way she'd seemingly heal everywhere else but the place she needed the most. However, the closer she got back to her temporary home at Bag End, the more uneasy, restless and anxious she felt for reasons she couldn't explain because there simply wasn't a reason for her to be experiencing them. Until, it suddenly dawned on her that it wasn't her own emotions that she was feeling...but Bilbos. And the moment she realized, Nymeria hit the ground running, practically becoming a large and dark blur to wandering eyes as she sped through the Shire.

She reached Bag End in record time, taking in that the house didn't seem to be under any attack, the warm glow from the window telling her that Bilbo was most definitely home and probably enjoying her share of the dinner as her chest heaved with quick breaths, her heart slowing down from where it pounded inside her chest as she calmed herself down, remembering just where she was and who she was with. After all, what trouble could the hobbit truly get into? Especially on his own without her mischievous hand to guide him?

She sighed under her breath as she relaxed her body from its snarling and crouched position that bared more resemblance to wolf than woman, knowing her dramatics had been for nothing except her own paranoia and descended up the steps of the home, only to pause before her fingers could touch the door handle, her face dropping and then twisting in confusion. Nymeria tilted her head to the side, turning so her slightly pointed ear was pressed up against the cold wood of the door where...singing seemed to be coming from?...Yes, that was definitely singing.

The faè pulled back from the door sharply, eyes narrowed in suspicion, before she slowly because to sleuth off around to the back of the hill-like home, where her secret window that lead to her room lay, still open from where she left it that morning and quietly slipped inside, dropping her basket on top of her bed and listening to the numerous voices filling the usual silence of the home. Just what was going on out there?

Around her hands, a dark red angry glow surrounded her fingers as she stalked out of her room, her dark eyes flickering, trying to make sense of it all as the song continued, singing about cutlery and bowls. However, it was when she walked around the corner, did her heart plunge down to her stomach, face paling as her mind flashed back to horrific memories of devastating loss. Dwarves. Moving around as if they owned the place, infesting their home as they sang away merrily, dancing around, throwing things and just strutting from room to room with no care, ignoring the small hobbit who kept snapping at them to put his things down, unaware of the dark eyes watching them with traumatic disgust.

"That's what Bilbo Baggins hates- LOOK OUT!"

A plate slipped out of one of the dwarves hands, one of the younger looking ones with a bowl-cut like hair and shy eyes, Ori, Bilbo idly remembered Gandalf refer to him as such, not that he had much time to dwell on who threw the plate as it soared towards his head. The hobbit didn't have time to move, or to think really, and instead clenched his eyes shut with a yelp, awaiting a pain that...never came, only a whoosh of air passing over his scrunched up face.

In fact, there was an abrupt and sudden silence that filled the place, ominous and dark and when Bilbo opened his eyes he gasped, taking a step back for a moment to see the plate a mere inch away from his face and a familar looking hand holding the edge of it in her tight grip. Nymeria slowly stepped out of the shadows, causing the hobbit to breath out a sigh of relief as she lowered the object into his waiting hands, her eyes flickering over his face, searching for any sign of ill treatment as she ignored the other occupants of the room, aware she was surrounded by their cautious eyes from the dining room and hallway.

She wasn't much larger than the dwarves, only standing a head or two taller than most, and there were no weapons attached to her, nothing to explain the sudden intimidation they all felt. Because the moment that the strange girl had stepped into view, it was like all the life that had previously been there before had suddenly been sucked out of the room, the atmosphere becoming colder and dark, hairs standing on edge and shivers dancing up spines as she simply stood there and finally looked at them all with her dangerous gaze. "I'm only going to ask this once. Who are you, and what are you doing here?"

"We were invited." A dwarf with a strange hat resting atop his head called out from his seat at the dinner table, only to shy away when she looked over at him. Everything about the girl seemed wrong. She stepped further into the light, the shadows stretching over her expressionless face as she glared at him scrutinizingly with glowing eyes. "By who?"

"That would be I."

A deep and baritone voice suddenly broke through the tension, as a tall older looking fellow walking into her line of view, ducking under the chandelier that hung by overhead, his long grey hair tumbling over his shoulders in ratty waves, dark robes swallowing the glow of the lights. Nymeria stared at him for a moment, before her eyes were dragged over to Bilbo who came out from behind him, pointing at the wizard with wild gestures, mouthing 'that's him.' Over and over again. The faè snapped her gaze back up to look at him with a vicious snarl, remembering the hobbits fear this morning that she regrettably hadn't believed. "You? The wizard that scared him half to death?"

"I assure you it wasn't my intention." He replied calmly, trying not to escalate her anger as he recognised the species in front of him, however rare they may be. She may be missing certain features, arguably the most important ones, but nothing could mistake the raw magic rolling off of her in thunderous waves, intimidating and filled with dangerous warning that only he was able to see, while the others only felt its effects.

"I'd hope not." She snapped her teeth, baring them like some sort of feral animal, and she was idly aware of the way hands had inched towards weapons, suffocating them in her rage as she desperately tried to keep her own hands steady as they shook with trauma induced tremors. Nymeria really hoped that one of these maggots infesting her home would tell her just what in the hell was going on, because it truly, truly was only a matter of time before she snapped and started ripping out throats.

However, before anything could come of the tensions wound tight across the rooms, there was a knock at the door. A simple, somewhat heavy handed knock, that broke through the silence like a whip through air as everyone slowly turned to look with their hearts leaping up even further against their chests as the wizard stepped forward with grim determination and a dark sparkle in his eye as he looked at them all. "He's here."