Fae cursed under her breath, wrapping her cloak further around her small frame. She looked different to the elves of Middle Earth, attracting many suspicious or simply curious eyes. She had come from Skyrim, via Odahviing, her faithful companion and dragon, and was merely here on a trading trip. Though, it did give her a chance to observe the men and mer (and supposedly dwarves) of this utterly strange land, and to consult the king-like being in the place referred to as 'Mirkwood' about the poor treatment of the forests. There was, however, a slight dent in her plan...
She was Bosmeri.
Fae looked nothing like the fair, blue-eyed elves of this place. Instead, her skin was sun-kissed and lightly freckled, her hair dark and eyes a startling yellow colour, not to mention that they were deeply slanted, and her ears were far longer than the norm.
Therefore, she doubted she would get even an audience.
Nonetheless, the young elf trudged onward, making a brief stop at the marketplace, where she bought a new cloak, one that had beautiful trees sewn into the hem.
When she had reached the huge gates of the palace, her stomach had relocated to her throat, making the elf tap her long nails on whatever object she was able to clutch...
Knowing that somehow, this would turn into something quite a lot bigger, Fae pushed said gates open, letting her hood fall and almost floor-length hair spill out behind her.
