"Lord Elrond!"

There was a slight limp to her step and an overwhelming ache in her burdened shoulder, but apart from that, Nymeria felt as though she'd come out of the rather adrenaline inducing chase practically unscathed. Of course, it seemed that absolutely no one else shared her sentiments if the way they all watched her so cautiously was anything to go by, as if expecting her to fall over and never rise again...but being killed off by some lucky orc was most definitely not going to be the way her legacy ended, she'd survive of sheer spite alone if she had to.

So, with that in mind she just continued on we she always forced herself to, ignoring the pain of her still mending wounds as her magic swarmed around her desperately like a mocking disease, an infestation of pure and irritable chaos, leading the dwarves through the dark cave with a ball of red glowing in the centre of her palm like an improv candle but far more dangerous, her dark eyes flickering around as she searched for an exist through the glooming shadows, her breath only slightly hitched without the lack of rest she was forcing herself to endure.

"You know, if you ask of them, the others wouldn't mind taking a small break as you gather your wits, Nymeria. In fact, I think they'd be rather grateful themselves." Gandalf's gentle voice came from the side of her, his long robes brushing against her ankle with their every step, his grey gaze casted upon the shaking of her hands and flickering orb of her magic in concern but she only shook her head with a hackling scoff.

"I can rest when I'm dead, I'm perfectly fine."

He hummed disapprovingly but didn't say anything more on the matter, and for a few peaceful minutes it was silent, the only sound echoing through the cave being the company's low murmurs as they spoke to each other surprisingly quiet, nothing more than a background noise that calmed the pounding of her head, and without her permission, her ears strained, trying to listen out for a familar voice of the blonde dwarf who seemed to follow her every move before she quickly realized what she was doing and cleared her throat awkwardly, face feeling strangely flushed.

However, she didn't get alot of time to figure out what had warranted that reaction, because finally, there seemed to be a light at the end of the tunnel and the dwarves quickly scurried past her to get to it as she paused, waiting for her hobbit who came up beside her, his hand instantly reaching out to place a gentle pat on her forearm, his forehead glistening with a sheen of sweat that came from the weight of both of their things no doubt and panting tiredly. "Nymeria, I don't think I can carry this much longer."

The faè chuckled under her breath at his hesitant whine, rolling her eyes fondly as she reached across the space to take their bags but there was a sudden pinch in her shoulder, causing her to hiss and move to cup her warm palm across her clavicle where she felt the dried blood sticking against her still healing skin with a curse, upper lip curling to show a flash of threatening teeth as she huffed and waved off Bilbo's anxious hands. "I'm fine, I'm fine, just moved too quickly is all."

She took a deep breath, rolling her shoulders to try and relieve the tension before she smiled down at the hobbit reassuringly, reaching out once more, though going through the motions more slowly, but the moment her fingers brushed across the backpack, it was snatched from her grip by calloused hand, a hand that was becoming more and more familiar to the woman as Fili threw it over his shoulder with ease, instantly moving forwards once more to take the other bag from the halfling calmly. "Give it here then."

Nymeria blocked his arm quickly, long limbs moving like a snake striking in the dark as she scowled at the dwarf, her eyes flashing dangerously as he turned to face her, raising his brows in suprise while Bilbo sighed in exasperation, already knowing where this conversation was going to go and already wanting it to end. "We don't need your help, dwarf."

"I think you do." Fili murmured gently, his gaze flickering over to her shoulder where the still drying blood had stained the green of her shirt, crumbling against her skin and giving the lass an almost feral look about her as she swayed on her feet. In all honesty, he was concerned about her just walking as it is, never mind with the added weight of whatever they'd packed in their bags...which apparantly included some strange plant that could heal wounds which Oín practically inching to ask about, but having the good sense to wait until the dangerous girl seemed to be in higher spirits.

...Which obviously wasn't now as she openly snarled at him, realizing she was still holding onto his thick forearm and yanking her hand away as if she'd been burned, the tips of her fingers tingling with something she couldn't place as she growled at him, opening her mouth to do doubt spit another insult at the blonde but it seemed Bilbo had had enough of the two's standoff, taking his bag off himself and looking up at the faè tiredly. "Nymeria just let him take it, you're not-"

"I'm not what, my dear hobbit." She said dangerously with her teeth bared and half bloody, finally tearing her gaze away from the oceanic blue of his eyes that drowned her senses to glare down at the smaller being in obvious frustration, and definitely not seeing Fili as he slowly crept his hand across the space to snag his ring-clad fingers over one of the bag's weathered straps and tugged it towards himself with a gentle smirk twitching at the corner of his lips, quickly scurrying away before the strange arguing couple could take notice of him.

"Now don't take that tone with me-"

"You were just about to imply that I wasn't strong enough!"

"I was not, now as I was saying, we should just let Fili-" Bilbo turned, gesturing towards where the dwarf had stood in complete exasperation, a sudden exhausted weight on his shoulders as he tried to keep whatever semblance of peace there...only to realise he was looking at empty air and froze, blinking his eyes stupidly for a few moments as he noticed the lack of company. "-and he's already gone."

"What? Oh, I'm going to skin that dwarf." Nymeria hissed as she finally realised that he'd used their argument for a mere distraction, half a second away from stomping her foot into the ground below her like some kind of brooding child as she spun on her heel and marched back out towards the cave exit, hearing Bilbo scrambling behind her to catch up to her long strides as she stormed outside in an absolute rage...only to wince as the bright sunlight casted its glare upon her, lifting her arm to shield her gaze...before she finally registered just where they were and froze at the sight.

It was beautiful, stunning even she couldn't deny it of its ethereal beauty that washed over her like a gentle breeze, filled with crystal clear waters that danced across the earth and hearing a song that no mortal ears could ever hope to hear, the lush greens of wondrous plants that stretched up high into the sky to be blessed by the shining suns touch.

She could practically taste the magic in the air, heavy on her tongue that felt like aching, that felt like home as she took a slow breath and felt it hitch, there was a poem scratching against the walls of her throat, a begging to be released, to yell out into the unknown where she could feel the magic as it called out to her like a lost sister of old, settling in her bones that lay in her rotting corpse. It was old magic, a different magic than her own chaos, something she had used those many moons ago when she still thought of the world as beautiful and pure...now all she felt was jealous longing.

Longing, Nymeria almost scoffed as her eyes watered and her hands shook as her wounds began to properly heal, skin begining to glow, hair becoming fuller and pain became lesser as she bathed in the glorious light that rained down upon her like a halo. Longing was such a soft word for such the ravenous feeling that made her hunger in silence, longing for her past that would never come, longing for the healing, not for her scars but for her mind. She desired to be whole once more, to be unbroken, but even that was just a dream of which the forgotten magic reminded her of.

"What fresh hell is this?" She finally whispered, though she knew exactly where she was, pain lacing her every word as her mind flashed with reminiscent memories of glowing gold instead of dangerous red, but there was no answer, for the company was already moving down the hill, and she was alone in every sense of the word.

The faè took another breath, and then another, and another, calming the raging storm inside her that rattled the very bones that lay beneath her glowing skin before she turned her back to the view and made her decent down the cliff-face, easily catching up with the others with her rage long since subdued, making her quiet, almost ghost-like as she continued fo feel the effects of the placebo magic...and wondering to herself how the elves had harvested it to be so alike her own that it filled her with grief.

She walked with the others yes, she answered Bilbo's questions the best she could as he hovered at the back of the group beside her, but the truth was every step she took was forgotten about as easily as she'd made it, she was consumed by grief and confusion, and the journey down to Rivendell was completely lost on her until they'd finally made it onto the courtyard, the dwarves shifting with unease while Nymeria felt like she was going to crumble the longer she stood on the earth.

However, she was quickly torn out of her emtraced state when a horn blared loudly in her sensitive ears, making her wince and forget herself for half a second as she crouched and hissed, as if that would rid her of the sudden pain before she spun on her heel, just in time to see a hunting party of elves sitting tall on their horses charging towards them with no intent of stopping, and her hands began to glow with threat as she grabbed hold of Bilbo's shoulder in alarm.

And yet, surprisingly, there wasn't such a need for her to go on the defensive...because it seemed that the dwarves had already done that for her as they yelled, swarming around the halfling and the faè in a protective swarm with their weapons drawn, pressed so close to her that she could feel the warmth radiating from their bodies causing her to snarl and squirm, wanting to struggle away but not wanting to touch them with her bare skin, her senses already feeling over-simulated and overwhelmed to the point of hyperventilation.

"Gandalf!"

"Lord Elrond!"

Thankfully, it looked as though Gandalf had it handled as a particularly tall elf climbed off of his horse to embrace the old wizard, a light small on his rather monotone face as the two almost instantly began talking amongst themselves in elvish, and making the others feel like they were most definitely intruding on some type of moment as Bilbo glanced up to Nymeria in confusion who only shrugged in responce...she had no idea what they were saying either, and she did not have the patience to try and find out.

But then there was a sudden presence to the side of her as an elf on horseback stepped far too close for comfort, those large hooves missing her foot by mere inches as she cursed, and the faè felt like she'd only blinked before Fili was standing in front of her with a dark glare painting his usual kind features while she couldn't even try and resist the rolling of her eyes. "Oi! Watch it!"

She was somewhat idly aware of the conversation continuing behind her, only this time it had seemed that Thorin had involved himself, no doubt trading insults or something of the sort which she couldn't even bring herself to pretend to care about, however, her attention was brought over to them once more as Elrond murmured something softly in Elvish and the dwarves had suddenly turned back on the defensive, weapons held in threatening grips with eyes dark and dangerous.

"What is he saying? Does he offer us insult?" Gloin was the one to snap, voice nothing more than a rumbling growl as they all took offence but Gandalf only chuckled, looking down at them in something akin to amusement as he sighed. "No, Master Gloin, he's offering you food." And no sooner had those words left his wise lips were they all huddled together and arguing amongst themselves quietly, Nymeria finally using it as an excuse to step back away from them all and rolling her tense shoulders, unaware of Elrond's sharp gaze as he locked his eyes upon her form with wonder.

"Ah, well, in that case lead on." Gloin nodded his head and gestured in front of him before they all began walking, the promise of food obviously winning over their prejudice...but just as Nymeria was about to follow after her unfortunate company with Bilbo tucked tight by her side, she finally caught Elrond's eye who'd bowed his head towards her to catch her attention, stepping in front of her just slightly as she slowed into a cautious stop as she frowned at him.

"We've been expecting you, Nymeria."

Nymeria froze, instantly spinning on her heel to glare up at the elf in confusion with venom ready on her tongue, chaos rippling under her skin in preparation...and that's when she heard it, the familar and grief-inducing sound of thunderous feathers battering against the breeze before a larger than life figure landed beside the elf with an aching boom and stood tall...with his large wings stretching behind him and touching the horizon, his white wings painted gold...oh fuck.
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Faè...that was the magic she'd felt the moment she'd breathed in the crisp air that had greeted her kindly, the magic she continued to feel as it overwhelmed her ever sense. It seemed that the faè was currently overrunning Rivendell with their suffocating presence of old, younger fledglings with wings a tawny brown molting in wait for their feathers to turn white giggling behind stone statues, older creatures with wrinkles on their every crevice with wings that looked fragile and picked clean walking past with gravelly voices and ancient eyes.

They were everywhere, flying high in the skies, walking low on the ground, taunting her with every breath they took. Well, that wasn't exactly true, Nymeria was sure they weren't doing it in purpose, in fact, it seemed like the other faè were torn between giving her a wide berth or moving closer, the threatening lull of her magic strong and sure as she stalked through the halls, just behind the company who were looking very confused and slightly awed indeed at the winged creatures, only just refraining from asking questions, probably because they didn't want the elves to know about their clueless nature.

But it seemed that eventually, one of the faè finally grew tired of spectating, pulling her away from the dwarves who quickly showed their protests with weapons drawn, their angry shouts filling the one peaceful quiet abruptly, only for Elrond to quickly step forward in an effort to keep the peace. "Please, calm yourselves. Veriàn was only trying to take Nymeria to her room, so she can be dressed for dinner."

"There's nothing wrong with what I'm wearing now." She'd snapped in offence, before she glanced down at herself and winced...perhaps they may of had a point, the once pale green shirt she'd worn was almost black, no doubt absorbing the blood that had flowed from her body and the dirt that she'd rolled in, and that was only the places that weren't ripped and ruined beyond repair. "Actually, on second thought I probably should get changed."

...That had been at least half an hour ago, and when Nymeria had accepted the invitation for cleaner clothes, she most definitely didn't expect to find a small army of young faè ladies awaiting for her, and she'd only had time to blink in shock before they were upon her like a pack of harpies with squealing giggles echoing around the bright room, their hands grooming through her hair, washcloths being ran over the length of her arms and face to cleanse the dirt they found there, throwing question after question at the frozen woman until she was just about ready to burst from the seams.

And eventually, she'd done just that, red mist pouring out of her, swarming across the room and filling it with fear as the younglings gasped and cowered away from the chaos winding through the air, and all Nymeria had to do was give them a flash of her eyes and a snarl on her lips for them to be flying out of the window as fast as their wings could carry them, leaving Nymeria to wallow in her own grief as she sat down on the cold floor and heaved in anger.

There was a part of her that felt slightly guilty at her cruelty, knowing that especially when they were younger, faè's made their bonds by grooming, lithe fingers dancing around feathers so ardently, so softy, like she had done with the animals of the Moors all those years ago when they had been her only comfort. And the fact that they had tried to do so with her, even adapting to her...differences in appearance spoke of their good will. But Nymeria was no longer good at such emotional things...except anger, anger she was getting rather great at.

"I'm going to burn this place to the ground." She spat in annoyance, hatred coating her every word as she stood on trembling legs before she calmed down almost instantly in the same breath, breath leaving her parted lips in a quiet grunt as she glanced towards the bed where they'd left what seemed to be a dress, gently laid out on the silk sheets for her to change into, and without her knowledge, her face shifted into a frown the moment her fingers brushed to soft material, humming under her breath in contempt.

In truth, she was rather used to her hobbit clothes, their slightly scratchy shirts that would tickle over her skin, mild enough that it wasn't truly unpleasant and its earthy tones reminding her of kinder times. But standing there, looking at the pale blue dress that shone brightly as the sun caught its subtle gleam, she couldn't help but feel somewhat uncomfortable with its elegance though she didn't know why.

Perhaps it was because it was so light, so beautiful and ethereal with gentle flowers embroidered into the blue lace, the semblance of innocence, of purity. Far too soft for her damaged hands that were ruined with malice, with greed until it had taken her for everything she had and left her veins splintering and cold. Perhaps the reason she was uncomfortable with the dress was because it would of been hers once upon a time, when she wasn't damnation, when she wasn't chaos made flesh, when she still had belief that the world could of been beautiful too.

Nymeria was a different monster than she was all those years ago, but she found that she liked her new claws so much better...and with that thought in mind, and her eyes stinging with unurshed tears, she finally moved, wrapping the pretty and unmarked silk around the tremors of her hand...and allowed her magic to seep into the fabric, threading through the stitching like fire scorching the forests and leaving no prisoners in its wake as it stretched over the material and watching as it changed, a small smirk curling around the edges of her lips with a certain chaos in her eyes.

After all...innocence had died screaming, and she was just making sure that it was known.