"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you."

Now, you must understand before you enjoy this tale, Bilbo Baggins enjoyed his peaceful and mundane life, as most hobbits around his age do. Though yes, perhaps once upon a time he would of liked to find out more about the world outside of the Shire, to do more than read about others and their adventures and wonder what it'd be like to have one, but that curiously, that desire was long since pushed behind him. He was content here, in his home with others like him, content to smoke in his little garden, overlooking the lush greens of the hillside with a calm smile.

And yet, on this particular morning, the Took inside his bloodline screamed for a certain kind of release. A one that told him to get off of his bottom, and go on his own miniature adventure, explore around the outskirts of the Shire and see what he could find. It was the closest he'd ever get to the stories he'd read, and in all honesty, the most he was comfortable with. So, he'd packed a small snack, bound a book to his side and set off, murmuring greetings to his fellow neighbours and hobbits as he walked past them, closing his eyes in bliss as the sun bared down upon him, caressing his face with warm glow and happy to just breath in the summer air, truly the Shire was the best place for a person like him to be.

The birds were singing beautifully, filling the air with their delightful songs, the farmers were farming, the bakers were making and the numerous voices of his fellow inhabitants were taking to each other cheerfully, however, the further he walked away from them all, the quieter it became. Even the sky seemed darker the closer he got to the outside world..and as he walked across a bridge that resided over a small river, he couldn't help but pause as he noticed something...odd lying amongst the dirty and damp soil, half submerged in the waters beside it.

"What on earth is that?" He mumbled to himself, his voice barely even louder than a mere mumble, narrowing his eyes and stepping closer with a certain hesitation blossoming it's way through his veins as he lingered, his body brushing the side of the wooden bridge as he leaned over it, standing on the tips of his large toes to get a clearer look at it. He couldn't see much of it, whatever it was, in fact it looked like some-hobbits laundry had flown away and landed onto the bank, however, what he found strange was around the robes, things seemed to be...decaying.

A bundle of bushes that's leaves had withered up, turning a dark, inky looking black and curling in on itself grotesquely, the ground underneath the oddity was cracked and splintered ominously, and the most alarming part of all was he could spot two dead birds and a rabbit, lying close to the cluster of something, with no signs of why they had died.

Bilbo nervously licked his lips, his mouth suddenly going dry as he took a final step closer, hands shaking with nerves as a knot formed in the pit of his stomach, and that's when he saw something he wished he hadn't. There was a foot. A pale and ashen, bloodstained foot under the pile of dark robes, brushing through the clear waters and staining them a dark, glaring red. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.

He took a step forward, and then a step back, then a step to the side, dancing on the tip of his toes and his breath coming out in short pants. That was definitely a person, quite possibly a dead person lying there, concealed in robes, actually, they could be the robes, they may not even be a hobbit. He couldn't see the height from here, but their foot most definitely didn't belong to any hobbit he'd ever seen. Bilbo took a deep, heaving breath, swallowing his fears and called out a shaky, "Hello? Are you alright down there?" He paused, waiting for a response and not knowing to feel relieved, nervous or terrified when he got nothing of the sort.

The halfling settled for a mixture of three as he fiddled with his suspenders that rested on his shoulders. He tried once more, "Do you need any help?" Of course they need help, they're submerged in the river and bleeding for hobbit's sake. He thought to himself angrily, resisting the urge to slap a hand against his forehead in exasperation. He looked around, bracing his hands on the bridge as he looked over and under it, searching for a way to get down there, and finally spotting a unreliable looking ladder at the far end of it, splintered and a few of the steps broken.

"Well, that's just great, perfect even." Bilbo deadpanned, lips pursed in a thin line, looking around desperately once more before sighing, pulling his pants up further and making his way towards it. They better hope they're dead, or they will be once he was through with them. The hobbit grabbed hold of the old ladders, shaking them slightly to check their sturdiness only for them to groan and creak loudly.

"Yep, that's not concerning at all." He whispered, as he pulled himself over the bridge with a grunt, and lowered himself on the first step warily. Of course, Bilbo didn't actually know why he was talking to himself to much, it's not like he tried to make it a habit, especially with how judgemental hobbits could be, he'd be swallowed alive if they could see him being so...odd. and not just the whole, conversation with himself business, but also risking his safety for a stranger who could be a bigger threat than the ladders he was standing in.

...Wait a moment...he hasn't thought of that, hadn't even thought for a moment that it could be some monstrous mockery as the curly-haired man froze, wide-eyed, wondering if it were all a disgusting trick to get someone with a kind heart down there, only to rob them of all of their valuables the second they touched the ground. Bilbo tried to turn his head, to get another look at the person and see if they were as helpless as he originally thought, only to hear an very loud and splintering crack!

"Oh no." Was all he had time to whisper, before the ladder gave out as he was halfway down, causing him to fall through the rest of the steps one by one until he landed in the shallow stream with a yelp, the air being pushed out of his lunges as he gasped for breath for a few moments, winded and his feet no doubt bruised.

Bilbo sat up slowly, his backside and his favourite brown coat drenched from the water, and as he did so his face dropped even further into a disbelieving scowl...because on the other side of the bridge, there was a natural ramp like hill that he could of used, that he wasn't able to see on top of the structure because apparently he couldn't use his own stupid eyes to see. Too panicked about the potential- oh, right! He turned around, pulling himself onto his feet, and looking at the body on the bank, just a few feet away from the commotion but they hadn't moved. The hobbit sucked in a breath, looking down and quickly grabbing a large rock and began to walk towards them slowly, splashing through the water softly.

"I hope you know that if this is a trick, I am armed and very dangerous." He lied through clenched teeth, looking around in a quick circle to make sure no one was hiding in the bushes. He came to a stop, unable too see anything over then the foot and after some hesitation, he grabbed a stick and gently poked it, and then quickly stepping back in preparation.

But there was no movement once more as Bilbo sighed, his shoulders visibly sagging as he came closer once again, and as softly as possible, pushed them with his foot, and when that warranted no response, he groaned loudly and pushed them again with more force, turning them to face him, finally, only to freeze in complete shock as an ashen, feminine and broken face stared back at him. Hollowed and dark closed eyes, chapped lips and high cheekbones, all bloody and bruised and wounded.

"Oh." He whispered sorrowfully, dropping his stick and rock to the floor as he slowly kneeled down beside her, his hands hovering over her body as he looked down at it. What he could see of the skin that wasn't covered in the dark robe was ripped and gouged especially around her shoulders and clavicle, claw marks that couldn't of been from no animal, as they were to thin and messy and when he look at the girls hand, he was filled with further sadness when he seen the bloodied fingers. Some of her wounds were self-inflicted.

"I'm so sorry." The halfling told her body gently because there was nothing else to say, only hoping that her last few moments upon the earth hadn't been in great pain or fear but feeling as though he knew the answer as his gaze lingered upon her ruin, before he gently lifted her blood-stained robe to place it over her face and put her at peace, only to let out a sharp cry as she moaned weakly, dark brows furrowing and chest heaving before she still once again.

"You're alive? You're alive." Bilbo whispered in shocked awe, a grin quickly forming on his face as a weight was visibly lifted from his shoulders as he looked down at the girl that had been maimed and drowned and still somehow surviving through it all...until he realised that she was alive, for now. The hobbit quickly stood up, frantic swirling his head around for something, anything to help and then catching sight of something wooden, half hidden in the bushes and his eyes lit up as an idea began to form in his mind. "Yes, that could work."

And a few moments later and he was rolling an old and rickety wheelbarrow up the natural ramp, sweat gathering above his brow and his face flushed pink as he pulled the heavy weight up, eyes going wide when her ashen hand fell out of the corner of the wheelbarrow, which he quickly pushed back inside, nervously licking his lips as he power-walked through the Shire with a speed that was actually making it rather difficult to catch his bloody breath, smiling fakely whenever another hobbit caught his eye, their faces dropping in confusion.

"What do you have there, Bilbo?" A kind but old Mr. Friggs called out as he walked past, came tapping gently against the greenery and stopping him in the middle of the road, blocking his way and causing the younger hobbit to freeze with a grimace, before he turned his head to look at his weathered face and gave him a nervous smile that felt terribly shifty and face, his eyes flickering backwards and forwards between the wheelbarrow and his home that was just in view frantically.

"Oh, right, yes, just some food for tonight. I've been trying a new diet."

"Oh? Well let's see what you've got then! If it entails that much food I'm already in!" He chuckled deeply like a hacking cough, reaching over to untuck the blanket covering it, and Bilbo panicked with a squeak slipping through his thin lips...before watching in seemingly slow motion as he slapped the old hobbits hand away viciously, Mr. Friggs pulled it back just as quickly, eyes as wide as saucers as he looked at his pink hand, and then Bilbo's anxious face, and doing it twice more, as if not believing what had just occurred.

"No, no, no, no! I don't think this diet will work for you at all, now if you'll excuse me." He mumbled, before he threw all reservations behind him and began to run, pushing the wheelbarrow up the path quickly and not caring how strange he looked as he pushed past the frozen hobbits, wincing slightly as he did so. They were going to be talking about him for weeks now.

He quickly ran into his garden, slamming the gate shut behind him, and after giving one sorrowful look to the wheelbarrow began to push it up the short steps to his home, apologising with every lurch and weak groan that came with it, until he finally opened his door, dragging it behind him and yanking away the girls cloaks, checking to make sure she was still breathing before rushing to his kitchen to get his supplies, bandages, ointments, healing herbs, alcohol, water and, after some hesitation, a needle and thread. After all, he still didn't know just how bad her wounds in fact, were.

Bilbo jogged back towards her, chest heaving slightly, and pushed the wheelbarrow through his home, stopping just next to his bed, awkwardly fumbling around with the girl as he tried to pull her onto it, grunting and straining with effort before sighing in relief as he finally lifted her on it. Well, lift was a strong word, shoved may be the more accurate statement he thought with a twinge of guilt as he lit a match, lighting all of the lanterns he had into his room and bathing the room in a warm glow.

He took his coat off, folding it over a chair and began to roll up his sleeves, tapping his large feet anxiously. He was no healer, and the worst wound he'd ever fixed himself was when he skewered his foot onto some garden pliers. However, he knew the hobbits that lived in the Shire. Most of them would shun the girl away, say she'd bring trouble, refuse to help her because she wasn't a hobbit. In fact, he wasn't quite sure what she was. Her face was ethereal enough to belong to an elf, but she lacked the pointed ears, she could of been human, but once again, Bilbo had never met a human with such sharp teeth. Her height however, certainly pushed hobbit or dwarf out of the occasion.

He sighed through his nose, closing his eyes tightly before opening them determination shining through as he picked up his fabric scissors and used them to cut through the dark robes, breathing a weight left off his chest when she was wearing white blinding over her chest, and once he was done, he pushed the stained clothes to the side and finally released a breath he hadn't even been aware he was holding. Dipping a soft rag into bowl of water, he nodded to himself grimly. Time to get to work.
________________________________________________

Four hours.

Four hours it took to clean and dress and sanitize every one of the girls wounds. He'd been able to handle them all, albeit with some shaking hands and a few black spots taunting his vision, as he kept thanking the heavens above that they weren't as deep or as serious as he feared, mumbling to her unconscious body that she was going to be alright, that she'd be as right as rain in no time. That was, of course, until he'd turned the girl onto her front to check her back for anything he might of missed and had gagged so violently, he'd almost thrown up his breakfast inside a bucket by the end of the bed, eyes bulging out of his head and filling with disgusted tears as he finally found the true cause of her comatose state.

On her back, were two gouged out holes, residing on her shoulder blades, with remnants of...something that looked like it came out of a butcher's shop still hanging out of them, dangling out of the gaping wounds and brushing over the skin of her back tauntingly. It was a good thing he'd brought that needle and thread, and it was some strange miracle that the girl had survived her injuries. And for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what had happened there, or, better yet, what seemed to have been taken.

Bilbo took a sip of his tea, staring out of the window with his feet in front of the fire, looking over his shoulder every so often to check the girl was still breathing, before turning back to the window, his hands finally slowing from their vicious shaking. He stayed there for a few more hours, just taking it in, thinking how lucky it was to find her and be able to save her, unaware of his fate being set in stone the second he laid his eyes upon her.

He stood up with a sigh, picking up a blanket that was hanging over the back of his old, worn out arm chair and creeped towards his bedroom silently, throwing it over the girl as gently as he could, tucking it in at the edges so she wouldn't get cold, and then walking back over to his chair, slumping down upon it and shifting around to try and get comfortable. When he finally did so, his eyes fluttered shut automatically, his body and mind exhausted from the tiring day as he drifted if into the peacefulness of his own subconscious.

However, he awoke some time later to a heavy weight on his thighs, and something cold pressing against his throat. His brows furrowed, wanting to move but finding himself unable to, and that's when he opened his eyes and yelped to find dark ones staring back at him.

"Where am I?" The girl snarled like a feral animal, all bite and bloodied chaos with her upper lip curling into a frightful snarl, showing a flash of those sharp teeth as she pressed one of his kitchen knives closer to his throat until he could feel his skin stretching over the edge of the blade most threateningly, all the while she leaned over him like some sort of vengeful angel, all beautiful and violent and deadly. He gulped audibly, his hands shaking in the air as he tried to speak and found his mouth like sand, sweat dribbling down his forehead.

"Y-you're in the Shire."

"How did I get here?"

"I-I found you here, I don't- I have no idea how you got here. I'm sorry can you please just remove the-" he tried gesturing towards the weapon to his throat with an attempt at a gentle smile that he knew looked more like a grimace, but she only pressed it in harder, drawing a nick of blood that dripped crimson down his neck in a fateful line with her eyes wild and frantic and absolutely terrified, like a fox, no, no like a wolf cornered in a trap. "-right, or you can just keep it there."

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you."

"Please, I-I saved your life." Bilbo begged quietly because he didn't know what else to say, what else to do because if she decided his gate it would be death, looking into her red gaze and trying to push himself further into the armchair, his hands still hovering midair, not wanting to touch her and continuing to show his surrender that was feeling more and more useless as time was stretching on and his life continued to be threatened. How could he not see this coming? A stranger covered in wounds waking up in a strange place? How was he to know his actions would have consequences?

"Why?"

"Sorry, what?" He asked at the strange question that tore him from his panic, brows furrowing in confusion, panic clouding his mind as he frantically tried to think of an answer to a question he honestly didn't even understand. Why what? Why did he save her? Why wouldn't he save her? But as the knife pressed closer still, her tall form leaning closer and her hair covering the seat of his armchair, blocking the light and caging him in, surrounding him in nothing but her as she snarled, he realized that it didn't matter the answer, not really, not at all, and so he went with the truth.

"Y-you don't need a reason to save someone." And at his sputtered out explanation, it was only then that that's when she paused, staring at him with her dark eyes, seemingly looking into his very soul as his heart hammered rhythmically through his chest, faster than a rabbit's, faster than a hummingbirds. She looked at him for a few, long and terrifying moments, and whatever she seen reflecting from his scared eyes which was only bloodied herself, it finally caused her to move away, the knife no longer pressed against him as she climbed off of his lap and stumbled to the floor.

Bilbo heaved a gasp of relief, sucking the air into his lungs with greedy gulps as she slumped against the wall weakly, dragging herself down until she was sitting against it, her let's sprawled out in front of her, still staring at him with something he couldn't decipher before she gave a gentle nod if her head, still staring up at him wearily as he did the same with fear still making a slave of him as he sat there and bloody trembled like a leaf in the wind. "Right. Okay, not that that wasn't fun or terrifying, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't do that again, possibly."

"Apologies, I thought you were...well, it doesn't matter. I suppose I owe you my thanks." She murmured slowly, eyes slightly vacant like she wasn't even present in front of him, like she was stuck in a dream or something as equally mosty as she looked around his home, seeing but also somehow not at the same time, not even taking it all in before she eventually rolled her head across her burdened shoulders that ached without their missing weight to look up him as he stood up, hands on his hips and still so very confused. "Yes. Well, I suppose you do."

"Thankyou."

"Right. You're welcome." He blinked, licking his lips nervously with a frown still upon his face, he really did not seem to think things threw he realised, as the two stared at each other silently, Bilbo sucked the the inside of his cheek, bobbing his head up and down, swirling around before turning back to look at the girl on the floor. "Would you like some tea? Something to eat?"

"...Yes, please."

"Okay." He said, sounding far more calmer than he felt before he strolled off into the kitchen with his small hands still shaking slightly by his sides as he swifty began to boil the pot, trying to keep himself busy as he hustled around his kitchen as he thought of what to do next. He couldn't kick her out now could he? Not while she was still healing? But on the other hand she did attack him, though, he supposed he couldn't exactly blame her, waking up in a stranger's house after already being wounded? Yes, he couldn't really blame her for attacking. Though that didn't exactly stop him from being nervous around the girl.

He...supposed he could allow her to stay, at least until she got better and was under no certain threat, give her some kind of fighting chance out in the wild and yes, he was absolutely aware he was talking about the girl as ig she was a wild animal but considering she acted like one, he didn't think it was rude in the slightest. Yes, he thought once more, pouring the hot water onto some tea leaves into one of his favourite cups. Just until she got better would do fine. After all, what would his mother day if he kicked a, well, not defenceless per say, girl out into the dangers of the outside? She'd have him by the ear she would.

Bilbo strolled out of the kitchen, tea and a plate full of goodies in his hands, thankfully finding the girl where he left her and made his way over to her, only to trip with his large feet over the upturned end of the rug, sending him sprawling through the air. His eyes closed tightly, awaiting the inevitable pain and the sound of crashing glass, but none of that happened, in fact, it almost seemed like he was...floating. He opened his eyes slowly, finding his face hovering a few inches away from his mat, and in front if him, his cup seemingly frozen in mid air, a strange reddish glow surrounding it. He looked down, and sure enough he was glowing the same.

His body began to pull itself up without his brains conscious thought until he was standing upright, but the cup full of tea, and the plate full of food continued to stay in the air, only this time they were moving, bobbing along in the air until the were in the girls lap, who instantly began to tuck into them, and Bilbo only just caught sight of her eyes before she'd looked down. If he didn't know any better, he would of said they were glowing too. "Uh, I'm sorry, but did you-" he pointed behind him, and then in front of him, and then gesturing to himself in confusion, his eyes shifting back and forth as if expecting the strange glow to come back. The girl looked up, tilting her head to the side, her eyes sparkling wickedly but not glowing like he had thought,

"Did I...?"

"Huh. Right, well, if you don't mind, I'm going back to sleep on my armchair, you're welcome to my bed, and my food, and of course my tea until you've, well, until you've healed I suppose." Bilbo uttered, scratching the top of his head, suddenly feeling strangely numb as he walked back over to his chair, dropping down on it with a sigh and closing his eyes.

He quickly opened them however as he finally remembered something rather important all for the sake of manners, looking over the side of the chair to stare at the girl once more, who, upon feeling his gaze looked up and locked eyes with him. "Bilbo. Bilbo Baggins. My name, that is." But she just continued to stare at him, blankly, coldly as if there was nothing inside of her...before she finally blinked and looked away, out of the window to the side of her for a few moments, staring at her reflection as the stars twinkled up above like a mocking song. "Nymeria."