Disclaimer: Tolkien owns his things, I own my things; just leave it at that, will ya?

A/N: Hey, this story is going to be quite interesting, let me tell you that. I hope you enjoy it. The title means Oromë's little golden spirit hound.

Description: This is a story about a wolf hound bred by Oromë. She is sent to aid in the upcoming war for Middle Earth, and it is in her point of view. She is given the gift to speak to those she trusts, and she cannot be defeated.

Aldaron's pen laurëa huanfea Prologue

I awoke to silence, nothing I have ever experienced. No birds sounded, no wind blew through the trees, nothing. I yawned, allowing myself to settle my unease. Usually by this time, father would be yelling my name, calling me for the hunt.

I whimpered as I stood. This was not right. Father was never keen to keeping me waiting. A scent hit my nose, though, causing my tail to swish back and forth.

I knew that scent anywhere. It was Námo, commonly called Mandos. He loved to spend time with me, and actually let me interact with the elves that had been slain in battle.

I looked around in pleasure, trying desperately to find a hiding place. It was my favorite game to play with Námo. I would always pounce on him. I lunged into a bunch of golden flowers my mother planted, blending in perfectly.

Námo walked into the clearing, an elf beside him. I yipped in joy and lunged at them. Námo laughed heartily as I licked his face, slamming him into the ground, "Runya! My dear Runya! You are a sight to behold, jumping out of flowers!"

I couldn't contain my happiness as I lunged onto the elf. 'Gil-galad!' My mind screamed as his scent filled my nostrils. Gil-galad had always been my favorite. He had appeared after the Last Alliance, my father told me, and he also told me that Gil-galad had saved Arda from chaos.

He had entered my heart the first moment I saw him. It was something within him, I cannot explain it; just tell you that we had become great friends over the time that I had been able to roam freely through the Undying Lands.

"I am pleased to see you as well, Runya," he chuckled, pushing me off him. He quickly scratched my back, relieving an itch that I couldn't get to earlier. "I can see we are pleased!" He smiled as my back foot started thumping against the ground. As he stopped, I could see his mood change drastically. It turned from a carefree one to a serious air. "I will miss you greatly, my golden hound."

I whimpered, not liking the tone of voice he was using. I wasn't used to my best friend saddened by anything. Námo seemed sad as well, I could hear it in his voice and see it in his eyes as he spoke, "Runya, you must look deep within yourself and find strength."

I shook out my coat, a sense of foreboding blanketing around me. The two stayed for a little while longer before leaving me, saying their goodbyes quietly. They left me confused and scared. What weren't they telling me? What was happening?

I didn't have time to wonder about anything though. For at the moment they left the clearing I was in, the ground shook below me. I knew at once what it was, and I couldn't help but let joy enter my being.

"Runya!" My father's voice yelled over the gaining hoof beats. My ears perked forward at his voice, knowing it to mean a hunt was to go underway. Seconds later, my father entered the clearing mounted on his steed, Nahar.

Nahar was a horse of astounding beauty. He was white and silver and his hooves were made out of gold. When he galloped, the ground shook like thunder.

My father quickly dismounted and turned away from me, clearing his throat. Nahar snorted and nudged me with his nose. Something was wrong, Nahar wasn't a horse to consol me. No, he always let me work though my problems, knowing that I could handle everything.

I quickly thudded over to my father and sat down in front of him, looking up into his face, trying to read him as I did every other person. My ears flew forward as he spoke softly to me. His voice was barely a whisper, forced even, "Runya, my sweet, little golden one." I whimpered then, knowing that something was not right, and he smiled at me, "You shall be the beacon to light their way, my Runya. You shall be their flame of hope in such troubling times."

I could smell his sadness and fear, and I wondered why sadness was on him. But even more, why the stench of fear was everywhere on him. The mighty Oromé, afraid of something? It couldn't be!

"Runya," father knelt down in front of me, putting his hands on either side of my face, rubbing his thumb under my eyes, a secret delight to me only known by him, "you must go and aid the elves of Arda in the up coming war. They will need your skills, unknown to them."

My ears fell, and all of my joy and happiness from earlier seemed like a dream. Sadness was the only thing present in my heart, sadness and loneliness. I couldn't leave father! How would he hunt? Who would play with him? Who would race him while he was riding Nahar? No, I couldn't bear to leave father, not in my whole immortal like would I even think about it!

"But worry not, Runya, for I give unto thee a gift so strong that all shall fear you." Father explained, "No one will match you in strength and prowess. I also grace you with the ability to talk to those you wish." I lowered my head, causing father to scratch my back. He chuckled as my back leg thumped against the ground, "You are my best bred, Runya, you are the only hound capable of such a feat! You shall see, my sweet golden one, you shall see."

I still didn't want to leave. What about mother's flowers? How was I ever to see them again? They spread joy through my body, just the sight of them. Father seemed to sense that something was wrong. He winked at me and then picked a flower from the patch. He held it towards me, "Is this what you are worried about now? Is this your excuse?"

I lowered my head, ashamed that I thought that would keep me in the Undying Lands. Father chuckled once again, "You will return to us, Runya, you will come back to me." He placed the flower on my forehead, "You shall see your precious flowers anywhere you want them to be, Runya, do not fret about them."

I had run out of excuses to use against my leaving my father, and I knew that Nahar wouldn't help me with this one. I whimpered loudly at my father, hoping that my discomfort would thwart his plans for me, but to no success. He snapped his fingers, and I quieted down.