The Protector in the Shadow

* Chapter Ten! I'm so excited; this is huge for me you honestly have no idea how big this is! I hope you all enjoy this chapter! I'm writing it straight from my heart! Since the Trip through Moria isn't going to be 9 chapters, I'm planning on keeping it short, the last chapter being the first of three. They're going to spend a lot of time in Caras Galadhon I just thought I would let you know in case you were looking forward to a very long trip through Moria. Also pardon the size, she's a bit short.- Ze*

Disclaimer: Must I keep saying? We all know I don't own LOTR! But I do own Fëa (and any other character I might add)

*Fate*

*Normal*

Those words rang in her ears, the snarls increased as her body started to tremble, quaking heavily enough to wake Frodo. "What is going on?" the Ring bearer questioned with a surprised expression.

Nothing escaped her mind, not a thought at the retching pain in her stomach, that horrible eating feeling as she was pulling off something that could kill her. Why would she even try?

She did not wish to betray her friends…

Chapter Ten: A Broken Heart

Her body still rocked through its motions, quaking as vicious snarls turned to pained whines. Her eyes bore into Frodo's she watched his mouth move, attempting to calm her tremors she couldn't understand what she was doing, she only felt the pain enter the pits of her being attempting to take a stand, only to stagger sideways and fall again. Her delirious eyes pinned unmoving from her master's lips. Only finding distress from the words she incoherently saw pouring from his mouth. Eyes panicked they were the words that she did not want to see. Those few sentences of commands she did not want her body to respond to she didn't want to listen to him as she stood head down heaving like nothing before eyes glued to the cave floor.

Legolas had come rushing over past the shocked creatures, standing behind Frodo just in case she was to snap. Nothing happened, and only silence rung through the tired camp. Only the heavy breathing, the words never stopped repeating themselves in her large mind. The word 'No' repeated after every sequence of the sentence. Frodo had meant the best, but was only going to cause the worst. Her mind flashed back to the words that were spoken.

"Don't you listen to him!" It was spoken as a command.

Why? Why? Why! Her mind screamed roared at her, her body was tearing away at its self a command? He was commanding her to betray her friends? Why?

"You have nothing to prove! Do not feel the need to sink to that level." She couldn't bring herself to be angry at him, he was only obeying her request to help stop it.

But by telling her not to shift, not to bend, he was condemning her to a painful fade. Something that would gnaw away at her until she gave in, she would be stuck between two commands, two painful elements. She wouldn't be able to change, to shift into the human form. No escape could be found from the clawing and ripping at her organs, nor the pressure on her bones, enough to cause pain but not enough to break. She could feel the tears unable to shed at her eyes. She could feel that these next four days, these next ninety six hours would be spent in a relentless torture, and she was terrified for herself along with the people around her. She would be almost useless to her friends in battle if such ensued, she would hardly be able to stride forward let alone walk for days. Yet she had to do it for her master, she must hold on.

She looked at Frodo helplessly before offering a small expression of mock peace. "Master Baggins," she whispered in a strained voice looking lost and confused as she lay down where she stood, allowing Frodo to take her head in his hands. "I will protect you at all costs." She crooned with a light whine, her eyes then proceeded to roll lifelessly to the back of her head as she fell limp, passing out where she lay on the edge of the cliff motionless. Sleep was what she needed, if she was lucky she would awake and still be in wolven form, if she was not then she would wake naked as the day she was born and unable to change back until released from both of her forms.

It would be hellishly painful, being commanded to change was one thing, it was painful and horrifying, worse than when she changes initially. But being commanded not to change yet being forced to would hurt far worse, she remembered this happening once, and she was left for dead in the wilderness by her own father, stuck between forms not living nor dying.

There was a small moment in time where she felt as if she was levitating, she was not of course doing such, the hands of someone stroking between her ears, whines must have been escaping her chest, her throat felt raw as if she had been screaming the entire night, but she knew that it wasn't the case, she knew it was her Elven form just dying to get out. She knew that if anyone looked down into her mouth they would see red, lacerations from nails just wanting to escape their beastly binds. If you were full of godly powers and could see through flesh and bone you would see fractures, bleeding out into her own body. You would see the claws but not the creature that possessed them. The carnage inside of her body would make a grown man flinch at the sight.

She woke finally when the feeling subsided and something began pushing at her shoulder in attempt to wake her. Her eyes flashed a killer's intent, but once she saw Frodo she calmed instantly. Their march again beginning, she wanted to escape and hide away, but in the mines a creature like herself would be dead in a few moments. Lyavain could feel the presence of all the dark creatures, she could sense the death, and every time she closed her eyes she relived the moments which took the lives of the creatures there. She knew what had happened, though she would not tell a soul of this gift. Very few knew about it, but by the pace they kept she wondered if Gandalf knew of her suffering? The powerful grey wizard was not human, nor Elf, but something much more important, and much more interesting.

Never did the closeness of the group fail to amaze her, she felt so close to the other beings in the group. Even if she didn't think she could, they made it hard to mask the pain and discomfort she harbored in her mind and soul. Though when they were playing, or fighting they made it easy to forget, if only for a moment it was still escape from the horrible discomfort she kept.

They hardly slept the next two days, not even settling for a seat to rest even though Gandalf and the Dwarf still seemed out of breath. Gimli wasn't as bright as he had been at the beginning of the journey, and Boromir, well after the incident he became shut into himself like a ball. Ignoring any conversation that would come up, any word spoken in his direction would be pushed away as if he didn't care. Only food kept him out of a dreamlike state. Ava found it so interesting to watch his lips move, chanting words and spells incoherently as she had once in her time. Perhaps the reason Lyavain hated him was not because they were so different, but because they were so alike in their ways. She saw him as a mirror of her personality and her past. Even if he did not, she still felt that way.

She had been avoiding Aragorn, and Legolas, much to their dismay. At first she wanted too, but she was finding it harder and harder to stay away. Her chest had become tighter and tighter the more time she spent away from the two friends, the more time she wanted to spend. She found it easy when she was with Frodo, who was slowly becoming like Boromir. It was much easier to snap Frodo out of gazing at the ring, and it was much easier to speak to him as a hobbit and not as a fly on the wall that she wished to smash. She soon became the favorite friend and pillow of the hobbits, and even Gimli after he snapped out of his rut. It was mostly because the risk was much too set a fire, she was viewed as the new fire for the smaller of the group. The others simply huddled to their cloaks not sparing her a glance.

Her light expression became even harder to mask on the third day. Her quietness started to worry the group, even Aragorn, whom she had done her best to avoid always took the time stroke her pelt when she pretended to sleep during the night time. He made do with avoiding her, but it was clear he wasn't happy with it. The entirety of the Fellowship knew something was up with her, she was hiding something from them and soon enough it would become risky. They would imply things, ask questions her silent minds refused to answer. She shut herself away in her mind, not speaking to anyone or anything despite the desire. The continuous pounding in her head caused her voice to vanish completely. She kept her mouth closed at all times, not wanting to bleed out, or hurt herself unintentionally.

Pippin and Merry were of the few who talked, in fact they never stopped talking. Legolas and Aragorn spoke in Elvish to calm each other's nerves but they seemed to ignore every other person. It wasn't long before Lyavain caught Aragorn stealing glances, but she could not blame him, she was stealing glances too. Her soft eyes had turned hardened the one thing that kept her sane was Frodo's hand on her shoulder as they walked, and Aragorn's pats as she attempted to sleep before her watch. She hated to admit it but she really didn't want anything more then to be one of them. To speak Elvish freely with the Ranger and the Prince like she belonged, yet still that saddened fear hid her from them. It kept her back from expressing herself fully. This was not something she looked forward to, every step closer they took towards the exit of Moria was like a step closer to death for her friends. It was a horrible thought, but a seer and no way to halt the painful visions of a future that would come, regardless if they wanted it or not.

It was the dripping off of the ceiling, the darkness, everything about that god forsaken place made her wish she was anywhere. Anywhere but in that one location. She would take Mordor, in the presence of the dark Lord himself over the darkness and dampness of the unguarded and lost Moria. She could hear movements much deeper than the normal hark of a wolf could hear. She could hear the deep breathing, she noticed scorch marks, and the scent of flame in almost every location they passed.

She eventually stopped listening to the conversations, she stopped eating the food Pippin attempted to stuff down her throat, she only breathed when her lungs burned and begged for oxygen. Her heart beat shallow and lost in the pools of blood which stole space in her chest cavity. Her heart just barely pumping the blood through her body.

Wait what heart? She questioned herself with a small whine.

A broken heart hardly counted as a heart at all…

* I thought this would be easy to write but honestly, I'm exhausted! I did my best to get this out and I did. Next chapter will just roll, but bridging the gap is so hard for me! R&R and tell me if it was what you were expecting! I really was honestly going to have her change there at that moment. But I felt like it would be rushed, and it would be too easy to do at that time. So I waited, I wanted to have it a more painful shift, plus she's more than familiar with the Elves from the realm of Lothlórien. I have some twisty ploty-ness to add! Trust me, it should be good (I hope). Peace mellon nin. - Ze*