Lylla

The lights returned. She was lying on the floor, her back covered with blood. Then she realized that someone shot her from behind. Her creator. She couldn't remember his name, but that didn't matter. She put her arm on her chest. The bullet didn't reach the heart but was nearby. It hit something else. The lung, perhaps? It didn't matter, she had to stop bleeding. So, with great effort, she turned over her back to lay face down.

Luckily, her bionic arms were a lot larger than the natural ones and didn't had bones. And instead of useless fingers and claws, plates that could be used as improvised surgical cutters. It made things easier. Her hand hurt herself when it sank into her back, searching the bullet. The pain was terrible. She wanted to scream but couldn't. A few tears dropped from her eyes when he felt the cold iron touching her lung. The world became darker, but she wouldn't give up. Not until that thing was outside her. Finally, she emitted a loud, deep noise when pulling her hand back, with a metallic thing between the plates. She looked at it for a moment. The bullet didn't hit any vital organ, just a sort of switch that Sire put on her heart. She smiled. She didn't know from where all that knowledge came but was grateful for making herself an improvised surgery with no more than her own arms. But then, a dark thought came to her mind. The arms could be infected… in that jail… who new what sort of bacteria was inside of her now. Or if she would bleed to death. The panic took the control and when she reached the shock state, she fainted again.

The next thing she saw was a light on the roof. "Sky?" she thought. No, it couldn't be. That promise made to her friends… probably would never come true. She didn't had time to think about them until that moment and felt guilty. Probably all of them were dead right now. Floor, Teefs and…Rocket. Poor raccoon. He was just a kid, illusioned and betrayed by the man he considered his father. She tried to sleep, but the pain didn't let her. A man entered the room. He had a long, brown beard that, with his disordered long hair covered his face. He had a staff on his hand that emitted light with the peak. He looked like a beggar.

In front of him, sit on a chair, was the High Evolutionary. His face deformed and skinless.

"Why Morinehtar, why? Why in the entire universe did you let the otter live?".

"I think it's obvious, sir" the beggar replied, "She made herself an open surgery on the floor".

"Shut up and go directly to the point".

"89P13 might be very wise and creative when it comes to engineering, but she… she is superior when it comes to medicine".

"Fascinating. Then, take her brain and study it".

"I don't think is the wisest action to do, sire".

"What do you mean?"

"Well… if 89Q12 could replicate P13's actions with another subject, I would recommend you to watch her grow and develop by herself. Perhaps if she gets educated in a pacific, full of knowledge environment her abilities will work out faster and… you could get new information that can benefit the new world".

"But how? The experiments are ready, I don't have enough time to restart the investigation. I would need to travel through reality to do that".

"I have my methods" The man smiled and took from his clothes something that seemed to be a necklace made of gold and copper. A little wheel hung from it and emitted blue lightings. "I promise I'll take her back in a few seconds, with all the information you need".

"Right" Sire breathed with difficulty, just as her. "But take another two members from P13's species too. Better his brothers. Take those ones which we injected dragon and magic blood. I want to see how far these discoveries reach."

"Are you referring to 89P12 and 89P14, sir?"

"Yes. And inject to the otter elven genes. Is better if the subjects have different intelligent genotypes. What are you waiting for? Just do it!"

The man took her with a firm hand and nearly hurt her, but she didn't care, she was too weak… Then, a blue light involved them, and she felt like the universe collapsed on her.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH" she screamed when waking up. Whatever happened was just a dream, a bad dream. The sun entered through the windows, warming her skin, and opening the day. She went to the bathroom and washed her face, facing the mirror. There are no whiskers or fur, I'm not an otter. I'm a hobbit with elvish ancestors. Nothing more. But their arms were still made of metal. The iron simulated muscles but couldn't feel for her. Thranduil told her that when he rescued her, he found Lylla with the arms cut off and her memory broken, taking the decision of replacing them. She believed him. At least, he was not only her king but also her adoptive parent.

As long as she could remember, the Forest Realm was the only place she saw in her entire life. She reached there when she was 29 years old and became like a younger sister to Legolas. She trained hard in the elvish army and acquired the range of Captain. But now, she wasn't. She rejected the glory by falling in love with Kili. And for what? Loneliness. Now, she wasn't anything. Without a father, mother, homeland or charge the only thing she could do was to swear loyalty to Rivendell. At the service of Lord Elrond, life was good. She had her own room, space, and luxury, all what she needed to live appropriately for eternity. But there wasn't happiness. She missed the forest, the adventure, the action. The hunting campaigns weren't enough to satiate her blood thirst, her hunger for combat.

She put on her uniform. White shoulder pads and handles glowed upon a cooper armor decorated with golden runes. Her short, tinctured orange hair complemented her clothing and made her a beautiful warrior of the Valley. A warrior of the sunset that misses the sunrise. She would have given everything to see her brother, but Legolas rarely came because of his adventures with Strider. She stood near the columns of the main hall, just like every day, like the last 57 years. She looked at her reflection on the silver, elvish knife, the image of a broken person on a weapon. Beautiful for many, lethal for more, just like the sharp.

"Sharp" she whispered. She never had given any name to a weapon. Now, it belonged to her dagger. Some steps approached. She turned upwards her head and looked to the princess of Imladris.

"Lady Arwen" she knelt down in front of her, without expecting her hand caressing her hair. Her soft, warm hand. She looked to her owns. They were made of cold, unsensitive metal. She wished to have real ones.

"Stand, up, Lady Lylla."

"I'm not as you, milady. I'm just a soldier" she said, straightening herself.

"For my eyes, you are as noble as my grandma."

"But a lot less powerful."

"Power isn't important. Many bad people manipulate forces that exceed any knowledge, and many heroes save cities with nothing more than a dagger."

"Those heroes didn't have a deformity on their bodies."

"Do you think that just because being small and having metal arms you are less important than the rest of the world? Brandir the Lame died as a warrior even without experience or special abilities."

Lylla bit her own lip. She had opposed a lot to her lady. That wasn't right.

"Why have you come to here, milady?" she changed the topic of the conversation.

"Someone sent you a letter. An old friend, as far as I'm concerned." The elf extended her arm with a roll of paper. Lylla took it. It had a strange closing, signed with a three-headed dragon. Curiosity made her open it quickly. She didn't have many friends apart from Estel, Legolas, Arwen, Elladan or Elrohir and Arwen knew them all. Why would she hide their names?

Dear Lylla, don't worry for the next lines you are going to read.

I am being kidnapped. With kindness and politeness, but still against my will. I will give you the complete perspective. Since the last time we saw, 57 years ago, in the Battle of the Five Armies, many things happened. I'm not as older as many hobbits of my age. I started to accept the theory that I'm immortal. Many of my childhood friends have died and others have already great-grandchildren. But not me. Do you remember the nut that I took from Beorn's garden? Well, It's a tree ways bigger than it was supposed to be. Maybe the seed was enchanted, I don't know. The case is that is like a baobab, It has already crushed my house down (Don't ask why, I sew it on the roof).

Now, forget everything I have written. I need you to go to Braavos, in the south. Yeah, I know is too far, but it's for a noble cause. Well, I believe so. Be careful I'll tell you more when I see you. Announce to the guards of the city and look for the "Oasis" Inn. Wish you good luck, your forgotten and old friend,

Bilbo Baggins.

Lylla could just stay stunned, without knowing what to do. She knew Bilbo, of course. He was the only halfling apart from her involved in the disaster of Erebor. He woke up the dragon while she ruined her entire life. What a pair. Was it worthy to meet him again? Probably not. If he got kidnapped, it could be his fault. And what was that of "with kindness and politeness"? Was he joking? She considered throwing the letter into the river, but a fast thinking changed her mind.

The dragon What if he was in danger? And didn't she expect an opportunity like this to get out from the golden prison of Imladris? Wasn't her the chance of becoming a hero again? Didn't she miss the forest, the adventure, the wind in her hair? Because she did. But that would mean breaking her oath. Twice. She didn't even try to look at Legolas when she got fired from the Forest Guard. She didn't want to see the disappointment in his eyes. Could she do the same to Arwen?

After meditating for a moment, she finally found the answer. Yes. She would do it. But when nobody could watch her, so the pain would last shorter and hurt less.

That night, she put on her uniform, an elvish cloak and took Sharp with her. Quietly, she entered the stables and with care, guided a pony to the entrance. For her surprise, Lord Elrond was waiting outside.

"I receive you in my home and this is how you repay me?" He asked. Not again. That horrible sensation.

"Milord, I…"

"No more excuses" The words cut her soul like a knife "You must go and help your friend. May the Valar be with you."

"What?"

From a pocket, he took the letter and gave it to her.

"But, milord, I have offended y…"

"Me? Yes, you have stolen my pony and betrayed my trust, but it would be more disappointing for me if you didn't try to help master Baggins."

"Th…Thank you, milord" She didn't know what to say, getting on the horse saddle shocked and relieved at the same time.

"You will return to your post and pronounce your oath as soon as you return. In the meantime, rescue our common friend."

"I owe my life to you, milord."

"No, Bilbo does. You owe me your freedom" He smiled.

"May the Valar be with you, Lord Elrond."

"And also with you, Lady Lylla" He answered, making her smile. "Now, go away".

And that's what she did, getting lost in the darkness, with the wind in her hair, and riding straight to a new adventure.