Hey there! After watching Hellboy II: The Golden Army for the first time after a long time, I decided to try my hand at a fanfiction after getting a good grasp of the characters and formulating in my mind a relatively reasonable storyline. That being said, the disclaimer is that I own nothing but the OCs I create, the plot, and my own interpretations.

If you'd like to get to know this mysterious figure after reading, I've written about her in my profile.

Warnings: For future violence, non-graphic (?) romance, and cursing.

This takes place right after Nuada mortally wounds Hellboy in the library, and takes Nuala as hostage for the last remaining crown piece.

Nuala

"What now, brother?" Nuala asked, anger in her tone as he led her through the cave entrance of Bethmoora. "What will you do, if they don't follow?" The chill in the air seeped deep into her bone as she examined their surroundings warily. Looking at their homeland, a heaviness settled in her heart. It was once so beautiful, so vibrant. Now, cursed.

It was a grim sight. Ash and dust coated every square inch of the desolate city. Pillars split and fallen, crumbled stone scattered every which way. Petrified skeletons of their brethren long past scattered among the ruins. Trees she remembered for their rainfalls of petals were now grey and decrepit, like the rest of the city. Not even the slightest footfalls of mice or skittering of cockroaches could be heard. The city was void of any color—any life.

Nuada scowled at the sight of his former home. "Sister, look," he started, ignoring her question entirely, "Look at what has become of our people. If we'd won the war—if we hadn't made that truce, Bethmoora would still be prosperous. Our father would still be alive, and the earth wouldn't be clinging for survival." His eyes searched for a sign of doubt or hesitation in hers, but she did not meet his gaze.

The elven princess cast her gaze downward. "Our people would be known for the massacre they carried out."

The comment made her sibling fall silent, and she saw that he was lingering on her words.

As they ventured through the hollow remains of Bethmoora, Nuala recounted memories from the past. The small park they once played in as children was desolate. The play structure collapsed under itself, and trees supporting the swing sets were riddled with rot. Further down the road, the two passed a large, abandoned building; the academy she spent decades studying botany and the art of herbal medicine. The plants she cared for were, no doubt, lifeless and withered. Classrooms once filled with sounds of quill upon paper lay silent.

Next on their walk was the empty marketplace. Their caretakers often brought the twins there during grocery trips. Nuala's eyes lingered on the stalls where friendly vendors offered her and her brother free samples of food, candies, and snacks. Their warm, smiling faces flashed in her mind, and her heart ached with nostalgia and pain.

As they drew nearer towards the palace, they had to enter the aristocratic neighborhood that surrounded their former home. The houses, much more spacious and grand than the previous ones they passed, housed the wealthier families of Bethmoora.

But now, uninhabited and covered with soot and debris, they appeared like all other buildings in the cursed city. There was one house, in particular, she anticipated for.

Nuala slowed her pace as they reached one of the larger villas. If not for the dead ivy climbing up its walls, it still stood impressively dignified. A touch worn from neglect but it remained largely intact and without damage.

The steps toward the front doors called out to her, stirring a fond memory. A soothing voice. "You, my lady, are a very beautiful woman..."

The princess paused in her steps, those words haunting her thoughts. She couldn't help but raise a hand to her face, feeling the raised scar upon the flesh of her cheek.

Her amber eyes scanned some cobwebs hanging from the veranda, pursing her lips at the effects time had worn on the building. She recollected bits and pieces of it as it was before the curse: the furniture, the decor, the people. It had always been a place of warmth and kindness in the past. She remembered walking up those steps several times in the past to spend time with—"My sister, I'm afraid we must make haste. I have a feeling that your Abraham will be arriving sooner than I anticipated."

Startled, Nuala spun on her heel to face her brother. She had stopped walking entirely, standing in front of this particular house for a few minutes now. Nuada had waited for her as patiently as the elven prince could, standing behind her. Seeing his frown made Nuala quickly join his side, with an eagerness to see Abraham again. Even if it was for the last time.

He said the fish man's name with disgust. Nuada hardly believed that his own sister could be so fond of him. Not because he was a foreign creature—he'd never seen anyone of Abraham's species before—but that he was aiding the humans who were destroying the very planet with their greed and filth. The Sapien creature seemed a very knowledgeable character, though not enough to see mankind as his enemy. He'd deliberated briefly in recruiting Sapien into his army, but seeing Abraham's disillusioned loyalty to humans (as well as his irritating infatuation with his sister) made Nuada reconsider. He mused that if he didn't kill Abraham first, it would be mankind. Abraham Sapien would be euthanized and possibly dissected if he ever acted against the human agenda.

Breaking his train of thought, Nuada finally noticed what had his sister so entranced. He eyed the estate without much thought, and began to turn... until just then, he thought he noticed a slight movement above.

With eyes focused on one of the balconies, Nuada tried to make out any dark silhouettes in the shadows. Was someone following them? If it wasn't the legless, bumbling troll, it must surely be one of those troublesome BPRD agents. He swiftly drew his lance in preparation to amble up the steps.

Nuala looked at him with a furrowed brow. "Brother, there's no one here besides us. No one has been to Bethmoora in centuries."

It was a tense few seconds before the prince sheathed his weapon and began towards the palace, a dark expression on his face. Nuala followed silently after casting one last forlorn glance at the building.

- — [ ❀ ❀ ❀ ] — -

That was a close one.

The gray-skinned woman backed away from the window as soon as the building caught the prince's eye, keeping to the corner of the room, out of sight.

However, she wasn't quick enough to stay out of sight.

"No one has been to Bethmoora in centuries," a calm, airy voice announced. The lilting tone drifted far in the still silence of the city, reaching clearly into the room and to the woman's ears. The woman listened to their retreating footsteps until she could not hear them any longer.

If Nuala hadn't reassured her brother, surely she would have been discovered... The woman realized that she'd been holding her breath that entire time, and drew air slowly into her lungs in an attempt to calm her nerves.

In her crouched position, the woman dug through the pouches that hung at her hip and took out her prized possession. A green seed, the size of a large grape. Just the sight of it made her heart race. "All in good time, my dear," she whispered to it before pocketing it again, making sure the faint glow was not visible. If the battle between those agents and the army were to happen soon, then she'd better move fast.

The woman stealthily wove in and out of each room as if she'd walked through it a million times before, . Down the steps and through the back door she crept into an empty courtyard, pausing as she shut the door quietly behind her. She took this moment to gaze at her surroundings: an aged, cobweb-ridden set of outdoor furniture in the middle of the yard. Distorted, grey trees and shrubs lined the area, shielding the space's privacy from the street's eye.

In this empty enclosure, a hazy memory materialized in her mind. The faint scent of plum blossoms...

- [ ❀ ] -

She and the princess were sitting in the villa's courtyard, the surrounding trees vibrant with spring. The flowers were blooming rather nicely, sprinkling pink and white petals about the cobbled ground. It made the air pleasantly fragrant as the two enjoyed their afternoon tea, talking of both everything and nothing in particular.

"Your skin is so smooth. I'm sure all the boys are falling for you," Nuala complimented, giving her an endearing smile.

This caused the other woman to scoff, crossing her arms. A magenta flush spread over her cheekbones. "Don't be absurd, my lady. I've yet to witness anyone tripping over their heels for me." She glanced down to inspect the back of her hand. Her skin was dark, like charcoal. And her hair? Black as the night sky, with streaks of gray. She stuck out like a sore thumb in her neighborhood, for practically every elf was light-skinned and fair-haired. Like the black sheep among a sea of white ones.

Quickly turning her attention to her friend, she said playfully, "You, my lady, are a very beautiful woman. I've seen many an elf turn into complete imbeciles the moment you enter the room."

Nuala lifted a hand up to her face, lightly grazing the edge of the now healed scar on her cheek. For the past couple of months, she'd been feeling very self-conscious about her scars. They made her feel ugly. Unattractive. Bethmooran women were renowned for their flawless, porcelain skin, and she obviously did not fit that ideal. Only elven men bore the markings if they've proven to be strong, honorable warriors. Nuala happened to have them due to her unusual link to her brother.

She let her hand fall down her her lap, replying in a soft-spoken voice, "I felt as if the scars were... off-putting."

"Nonsense," the dark-skinned woman assured, "Those markings make you more attractive. Not many women have them."

She stood up and walked behind the princess's chair, giving her shoulders a reassuring squeeze before she began to braid her silken, golden locks. She added: "Besides! When I become a warrior-priestess I will get markings too, so we can just be off-putting together." The woman placed a chaste kiss atop Nuala's head, stealing a whiff of her perfume in the moment.

"Thank you," the princess sighed with a breath of relief. Feeling more at ease, she added, "My brother said he likes them, too."

"What is it you're saying about me now, sister?" At the sound of the masculine voice, the two ladies turned to face Nuada and his Cave Troll companion.

"Hello brother," Nuala, being the sweetheart she was, gave him a smile. "I only said that you liked my scars."

The dark elf, on the other hand, was not so pleasant when it came to the two males—particularly the elven male. Her acknowledgement sounded cold. She could not even look him in the eye as she said it. "Good afternoon, Prince Nuada."

Nuada scowled in acknowledgement. His voice was equally unfriendly. "Hello, Maerwin."

How was it so far? Please review, I very much appreciate constructive criticism.

Like I said, there is information of this so-called Maerwin on my profile.