SEVEN DEVILS, fili durin

CHAPTER ELEVEN

"Leave it."

There was a symphony in the air, a familar embrace like a lost love one being found again, a reunion that had left Nymeria unravelling by the seams as tears filled her red-rimmed eyes that had been ruined by chaos as the company flew through the skies. Her breath catching in her throat as she felt the wind caressing her face, fingers dancing through the clouds as she leaned up from the eagle's back and lost herself in memories of home, longing in her chest as her magic slowly began to heal, her peace returning and leaving her warm as the night began to slither back to where it came from.

She'd missed this, she'd missed it more than her lost limbs as her bottom lip trembled, hands clenching in the tawny feathers below her as she cried silently, tears dripping down her dirty face and somehow washing it clean. But the faè could feel the tension in the atmosphere, the fear, the worry from the others because of their king's unconscious body, still hanging limply from the sharp claws of the creatures that had been their salvation, their voices lost in the winds as they called out to him, begging for a response that they wouldn't get.

In a different setting, perhaps she would of shared their concern through carefully hidden malice, perhaps she would of tried to use her magic, though knowing that it had long since lost its blessed healing that had once glowed golden. But here, here where she was once powerful, strong and completely and utterly whole, she could barely find it in herself to care about anything other that her hair flowing though the breeze and the sharp sting of the cold air striking her eyes and making them ache...but even still, she refused to close them, refused to miss a second of her longing for the past.

The eagles carried them over the peaks of the Misty Mountains, the sun rising on the horizon and dipping the lands below them into an ethereal golden light. A sight that Nymeria knew she would miss when they finally began their descent towards a lone standing cliff, it's rough rocks resembling some form of shape that she didn't care to look at closer as she watched the dwarves practically leap off the creatures back, falling onto the floor and scrambling up to their feet to watch the majestic birds as they flew back off, blending into the skies with their calls echoing through the air in some semblance of a farewell.

She landed upon the ground with a quiet grunt, teeth baring into a grimace at the thunderous pain that ripped at her body and made her legs unsteady, trying to take deep breaths to calm herself as she took a step forward only to almost collapse onto the floor with a whimper, her hand catching a hold of something before she could and using it to pull herself back up...only to freeze when she found Bofur staring her down, his brows lightly furrowed...before breaking out into a half-smile as he patted her hand almost gently with a wink.

But whatever he was about to say was interrupted by Bilbo suddenly slamming into her body, forcing her to stagger back a few steps as she pulled him closer, chuckling weakly into his head of Auburn curls as her eyes ached with unurshed tears, content now that he was safe in her arms, no longer under the threat of being taken away from her by deaths hand...however, it seemed that the same couldn't be said for the King under the Mountain, as the last eagle flew on by overhead and placed him down onto a large rock, before delving off into the sky above.

They all watched with bated breaths, their eyes frantic and concerned as their hearts began to pound inside their bodies caged prison, blood pumping with fear as Gandalf threw himself on the ground, kneeling over Thorin's bruised, and quite frankly, wrecked unconscious form with a whisper upon his lips and only Nymeria could taste the thrall of ancient magic heavy in the air around them...there was a moment, thick with tension when she was sure he wouldn't wake, that he'd lost to the creature he'd despised, journey cut short cruely.