((A/N: Just a little something to tide you over until I beat the rest of this story into submission. Thank you Painton for pointing out that error, I tend to write things out of order so originally this was written before Nightmare was reforged. Reviews are love!))
The few months are the happiest Mara has ever known. She trusts the dwarven brothers, so different it amazes her that they can bear to breathe the same air, but the love they have for each other is almost tangible. With them, she is safe. Her body already knows it, even if her mind is having trouble with the idea that anyone can be trusted. She's known she can trust them since they tended her wounds, touched her back, without her skin crawling at their touch.
As they wander the lands of Middle Earth she is truly happy, but no amount of happiness dulls the fear of seeing their hatred when they see her actually use her unnatural talent. Hearing about such a skill is one thing; but actually seeing the girl speak to creatures that you have been taught to fear, start acting like one of the beasts, is something completely different. She does well at first, brushing away stray warg-thoughts like she might brush away cobwebs. She can feel a rider-less pack running nearby, traveling with no real direction or purpose, but not close enough to see or hear. She thinks she's doing fairly well; she's still standing up right and speaking with words and not growls.
Then she slips up.
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Mara can feel it in the way her thoughts shift, becoming more feral, thought formed with images rather than words. She dismisses it; it's not the first time it's happened. Then words become hard to form, the thoughts behind them disappearing almost as soon as she opens her mouth. She talks less so Fili and Kili won't notice, but they do anyway. She can see it in their eyes, but they don't press her on the subject and that alone is enough to make her heart beat with a foreign emotion. She knows she's getting worse when Kili hands her a portion of their dinner (rabbit again) and she leans forward to lick his hand instead of saying 'thank you'. She sits back quickly, confusion in her eyes, the taste of salt and wood smoke and iron on her tongue. It's heady, and she wants more, but she's already running into the darkness of the forest.
She can hear them behind her; no one could ever accuse dwarves of stealth. She hides in a thicket, twiggy branches clawing at her face as they run past her, calling her name. Tears trail quietly down her face as her heart thuds painfully in her chest, heavy enough that it feels like it's crushing her lungs. She digs the heel of her hand into the skin above it, hoping to ease the suffocating tightness there. She can still hear them in the darkening woods, searching for her.
Then the howls start up, wild howls that sing in her blood. Warg howls, singing for dwarven flesh. She is running before her brain even registers that she has moved.
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Kili pauses, panting for breath. Fili is beside him, looking as lost as Kili feels. His hand still tingles from the touch of her tongue. Kili starts to say something, but the words are cut off by howls. They know the sound, every dwarf does, and they know how bleak their chances are. The wargs howl again, the sound coming from all sides. The dwarves draw their blades, steel singing in the night, and stand with their back to each other. The wargs draw closer; close enough the brothers can see them. Kili breathes a sigh of relief, as their odds improve slightly, no orc riders.
A warg lunges at him and he guts it as it sails past, dead before it hits the ground. The others grow more cautious after that, circling their prey. Kili hates this part, tension coiling through his muscles as he waits for the next attack. He has never been good at waiting, it drive him slowly insane.
"You know, I think I left a rabbit over the fire," Fili says, his voice light, "It should be done cooking by the time we're done here."
Kili laughs. "I think you mean it'll be burnt by the time we're done here." He's close enough to feel his brother's shrug. The wargs snarl and charge, at least twenty to their two. Kili has a moment to be glad that Mara won't watch them die, won't die with them, and then the wargs are on him. He kills two before one slips past his guard and sinks it's teeth into his leg. He screams his pain and fury into the night as he beheads the creature, his leather armor does little against warg teeth and it feels like his leg is on fire. Another warg appears and his sword breaks it's skull, brain matter parting beneath it. Fili is being pushed against him, but he can't risk a look back. A warg leaps at him, mouth gaping, and he uses the creatures momentum against it, turning so the creature gets nothing but a mouthful of steel. Fili yells in pain and a warg squeals, and the weight is gone from his back.
Another warg takes advantage of his distraction and sinks it's teeth into his arm. He can feel teeth scraping against bone and his arm goes cold. He swings his sword, aiming for the warg, but another gets in the way and falls, taking his blade with it. He can't reach his knife and the glint in the warg's eyes says it's going to start shaking him like a terrier with a rat in it's teeth, so he does the only thing he can think of. Kili jams his thumb into the beast's hellish eye, takes savage pride in how fast it lets him go screeching and shaking it's head. There are only a few wargs left now, shaggy bodies surrounding the brothers, but Kili doesn't know if they can make it through the next attack. His left arm is mangled and useless, his leg can barely hold weight. He looks back at his brother and sees he's not in much better shape. A warg cocks its head, looking like it's considering it's chances, when a snarl breaks the stillness. A pale body lands in front of him, skidding a little on the gore, and he has to blink blood from his eyes to make sure he's not hallucinating.
Mara stands between him and the wargs.
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Mara can smell blood, think and cloying, and rage fills her, drives her faster. It feels like fire burns in her blood as she hears familiar voices shouting in pain and wargs squealing. She sees Fili slice through a warg's neck in a spray of blood, sees Kili shove his thumb through another's eye. She feels no pity for the wargs as they back away, some injured, to consider the prey that has fought so fiercely against them. They have attacked the only two people who have ever shown her true kindness and for that they should suffer. She snarls her rage, a completely animal sound that doesn't belong on the lips of a human, and almost trips over a carcass. She uses the momentum to throw herself between the dwarves and where the wargs are regrouping. Mara has never been so angry in her life, savagery pumping through her veins, and she skids on gore. She falls to one knee in front of Kili, but pops up quickly, drawing rage around her like a cloak. She snarls again, the same sound that will terrify her when she thinks about it later. She watches the wargs, sensing confusion and curiosity. She doesn't look at Fili or Kili, who stand behind her. She tells herself that she has to watch the wargs, make sure none of them attack while she's distracted, but she lies to herself sometimes. The truth is she doesn't want to see revulsion in their eyes when they look at her, when they realize that the people weren't lying when they said she was part warg. That they were right to be afraid.
The wargs are watching her now, curious about this human who sounds like they do. A hand tentatively touches her shoulder, but she shrugs it off and strides toward the pack with a confidence she doesn't feel. The pack leader is a big brute, scarred from many bloody battles and angry. He shows her his teeth, flattens his ears, and growls low in his throat as she approaches. She returns the growl and peels her lips away from her teeth. Mara knows they look pitiful compared to his fangs, can feel his amusement that a pup would challenge him. She allows his easy dismissal of her and his amusement to fuel her rage. The warg takes a step forward, testing her.
"Mine," she snarls. The great wolf is still bemused, but growing irritated.
"Ours." His voice in her head is like being trapped inside a huge bell. It makes her teeth ache.
"The dwarves are mine. My pack." The great warg scoffs. 'Join this one. Eat dwarf flesh. We are STRONG!" Blood drips from her nose, her head aches with the pressure of his voice inside her head. The wildness rises in her and she snarls again, knowing that he won't back away from this. He means to kill tonight, and he has already found his prey.. "Mine," she snarls, her voice weaker than before. This voice is more like her own, more like how she feels as she stands against the warg's force. Unsure, unsteady. Weak. She's the girl in the attic hiding from Papa again, something she has forgotten to be since she has been with Fili and Kili. She backs away, wary eyes watching the scarred wolf. She wants to run, to hide where no one will ever find her. She's too far gone to remember how to use the sword strapped to her back, but she can feel its weight on her back, demanding that she not roll over this time. Then her back hits the armored chest of one of the brothers, feels the other put a hand on her shoulder. They don't back away, don't leave her to fight and die like so many would have done. She remembers happiness and laughter, and knows she has something to fight for. She is laughably small against the great warg, but she is fast. Her teeth may be pitiful, but they are strong.
The battle-hungry warg sees the challenge in her eyes and in her step and lunges for her throat.
Mara can't dodge, can't take the risk that the brothers' wounds will slow them enough that they can't get out of the way. She darts forward, driving her shoulder into the beast's throat. His own momentum does most of the work for her and he stumbles back, choking. Her shoulder flares with pain, but she pushes it away as she leaps at her enemy, flame in her heart. She goes for his throat, but human jaws and teeth are not meant for tearing out warg throats, and all she gets is a mouthful of fur. Mara changes tactics, scratching at his eyes, biting his ears, trying to distract him from anything except the pain she causes him. He roars and shakes her off. She lands on her injured shoulder and her vision goes white for a moment. She hears the warg howl his triumph, hears Fili and Kili move. Her vision clears in time to see them kill the great warg.
She's up again, throwing herself between the brothers and the rest of the pack.
"Mine," she hisses, and this time no warg argues. They scatter, melting into the deepening shadows of the forest. The wild feeling inside her melts with them, fading the farther away the pack gets. She yelps in surprise as her legs give out, dropping her on her back in a pile of gore. Her breath leaves her in a wumph and it's all she can do to lie there and let it come back. She can see the brothers, albeit upside down, and she doesn't care that her shirt soaked with the blood and bits of dead wargs, that her hair is beginning to tangle with it. Fili and Kili are alive, she's alive, and for the moment that's all that matters.