First story in my new series, Alternaverse. In this universe, Skyfire comes to the other tribe of Wolfriders in a different time and in a different way. How things might have been different.
All words contained within # # are sendings between elves.
When Cutter brought his band of Wolfriders into the troll caverns to escape the fire that was claiming their forest home, the last thing he ever expected to find down there was more elves.
There was no sign of these elves as Picknose, one of King Greymung's guards, led them deep into the underground kingdom to the King's throne room. Nor were there any unfamiliar elf scents in the air. But with usually keen noses filled with smoke from the forest fire, even the trolls' scents were hard to pick up.
As Cutter dealt with the troll king, one of those unknown elves was on the verge of discovering his small band. Though at that very moment she was just as unaware of their presense as they were of hers.
Heavy with cub, Fiddlesticks walked down a dark tunnel that would lead to the troll king's throne room. This was one of three ways to enter the throne room, the one she preferred to use. It exited on the left side of King Greymung's throne. She'd been summoned to perform for the King and his women, something that was both a blessing and a curse at the same time. It took her away from the heavier duties the trolls expected her to do even in her advanced state of pregnancy and gave her a chance to sit, but she could be expected to play for hours without rest and she was already exhausted.
Since she'd Recognized Whistler, Fiddlesticks had been fearing the moment when their cub would be born. What kind of life would it have as a slave to the trolls? If it was even allowed to live, that was. She shuddered, the mental image nearly shattering her reserve of calm. She alway tried to live in the now of wolf thought, which was especially important with the way of life that was forced upon the elves down here, but when it came to this unborn cub it was difficult not to think about its future.
Stopping a moment, Fiddlesticks yawned and stretched her arms high above her head. Bones cracked in her spine and tension released in her lower back. She sighed softly and continued on her way. She'd learned long ago that it wasn't wise to keep his majesty waiting.
Deep in her own thoughts, Fiddlesticks was nearly inside the throne room before her senses alerted her that something wasn't quite right.
"Troll, you're a big, fat fool and your subjects know it! Where are they now...? Hiding in their holes?"
Huh?
Now realizing that something unexpected was happening, Fiddlesticks called upon her elfin ability of stealth to get closer without being detected.
"I don't think they'd care if I chopped you into bits!"
That same voice as of a brief moment ago. Male, strong, commanding... and completely unfamiliar.
"It's lucky for you that all I care about is finding a new holt for my tribe!"
Holt? Tribe? These weren't words associated with the trolls, not ever. Fiddlesticks edged closer to the opening, bit by bit, step by step.
"W-Well why didn't you say so! Heh heh..."
Greymung's voice. She knew it well, though in all the turns she'd been down here, she'd never heard his voice tremble with such fear before.
"Picknose! Escort this noble chieftain and his tribe to the tunnel of Golden Light!"
Greymung's voice was stronger this time but what Fiddlesticks was more interested in the words than the tone with which they were said. Chieftain. A chieftain was a ruler of others. But only Greymung ruled down here, so the only thing Fiddlesticks could conclude was that a group of beings from above had gained entrance to the tunnels.
Fiddlesticks moved forward and came to a halt where the tunnel met the throne room just as King Greymung pulled Picknose close to him with one arm. But she didn't see the trolls, not a single one. Her senses were filled with the sights, sounds, and even smells of at least two-eights of elves and a near similar amount of wolves.
Perhaps she gasped, or maybe one of the elves had seen her move and alerted the others, for suddenly many surprised pairs of eyes were trained on her.
As if her body were under someone else's control, Fiddlesticks began to move forward on suddenly trembling legs. Down the steps and past Oddbit, the king's favourite troll wench, and then past the troll king himself. The room had fallen silent, save for the audible breathing of the wolves.
Several paces from the nearest elf, Fiddlesticks's knees buckled as if they'd been struck from behind and she fell forward, her hands taking most of the impact. It was several hearbeats before a pair of hide-covered elfin feet entered her line of vision but she had begun to shake so badly that she couldn't make herself look up from this unintentional posture of submission.
Cutter knelt before the strange elf maiden, the trolls forgotten for the moment. Skywise and the others kept watch over the trolls for the moment.
Cutter put a hand beneath Fiddlesticks's chin and tilted her face to meet his steady, unwavering gaze. Tears had already started to form and overflow from her eyes, eyes which locked onto his for the briefest of moments before looking higher to the top of his head.
"You... you're chief?" she asked unsteadily.
Cutter nodded.
"And you are free?" Her eyes found his again, then darted slightly to the left. She could not look him directly in the eyes, but she still kep sight of his face.
"Yes, all of us are free," Cutter replied simply, his hand still cupping the maiden's chin. He worried when the tears began to flow more freely from her eyes and her trembling increased.
"Please... please take us with you," Fiddlesticks begged, her voice near-hoarse with suppressed pain. "I cannot bring my cub into the world to be a slave for trolls!"
"Shh, shh now," Cutter said, trying to comfort her, the effort a little awkward as he wasn't used to weeping females.
Greymung started to voice a protest as he considered Fiddlesticks and the others that had come with her to be his property, but the words died upon his lips before they were even spoken. Most of Cutter's band watched him malevolently, weapons drawn as if waiting for the slightest reason to attack him.
Cutter gathered the pregnant elf close to him, careful of the fur-wrapped bundle strapped to her back, and rested his chin atop her snowy white mane of hair. "Don't fret, you can all come with us. No elf shall be left behind." It didn't matter if there were two elves or two-eights more. Never would Cutter leave an elf to the mercy - or lack thereof - of the trolls.
From that point on, Fiddlesticks's tears were of relief and joy. #Whistler! Skyfire! Everyone! Our moment has come. To the throne room!# Her open sending touched the minds of the new elves as well as her own tribe. Only the trolls - who completely lacked the elf power of sending - and the wolves failed to hear the call.
"Bah! Take them, then!" Greymung roared, projecting an image of courage that he did not possess. "Less mouths to feed. I was getting tired of having the ugly little things around." He crossed his arms and began to sulk like a child. In truth, he didn't want to let the elves go, but with all save a few of his trolls in hiding, Greymung simply did not have the strength to back himself up. He may be fat, soft, and lazy, but he was not a complete idiot.
Cutter allowed Clearbrook to take his place with Fiddlesticks as he got to his feet. He unsheathed his sword, New Moon, and pointed it directly at Greymung's heart. "Greymung," he growled in a low, deadly tone, "I'd take great joy in carving you up and feeding you to the wolves, if it wasn't for the fact that they would gag on your rotting carcass." He resheathed his sword after a few moments spent in tense silence, then crossed his arms over his chest and prepared to wait for these other elves to arrive. Once they were all here, it would be wise to move on quickly and get as much travelling as possible done before they needed to stop for sleep. Greymung could not ignore this blow to his pride as well as the other. Revenge mush surely be on his mind now.
The first elf to arrive was Whistler, Fiddlesticks's own lifemate. He ran into the throne room and came to a sudden stop at the sight of so many unfamiliar elves. Fiddlesticks's sending had not been accompanied by images so he'd been uncertain as to what would be waiting for him upon his arrival. His eyes sought and quickly found his lifemate, kneeling on the hard floor and cradled in the arms of another elf maiden, this one with a long braid of white hair.
"Fiddlesticks!" Ignoring the others now in favor of his love, he went to her and knelt by her side.
"Oh, Whistler!" She eased out of Clearbrook's arms and into Whistler's, hugging her lifemate tightly to her. Despite the tears in her eyes, her smile was wide and bright. "Our cub will be born under the stars!" Her green eyes gazed lovingly, joyfully into his brown ones, one hand moving to run through the soft brown hair at the back of his neck.
The next to arrive were two black-haired maidens. One had a hardened appearance about her while the other still appeared to been in the bloom of youth - not fully grown but quite close to it.
"Are there any others coming?" Cutter asked, directing the question to Whistler.
"Three more..." Whistler's eyes took in the chief's lock in Cutter's hair. "Chief," he added respectfully, bowing his head quickly.
Hawthorne, the elder of the two maidens that had just arrived, was carefully sizing up the other elves. None failed to meet her eyes, even the red-haired lad that was clearly injured. The young female cub among the strangers smiled hesitantly and Hawthorne allowed herself to relax enough to return the cub's smile.
Ebony showed no such restraint and had a smile for everyone as she went to stand with Whistler and Fiddlesticks. "We're finally leaving this place," she said to the two, and laughed giddily.
"Yes." Fiddlesticks's smile was serene and her eyes, though slightly reddened from crying, were now dry.
Whistler helped his lifemate to her feet, keeping an arm around her lower back to steady her.
"Weren't Buck and Starfrost supposed to be with you in the mines today?" Whistler asked of Hawthorne.
"They were earlier, but they got moved to one of the other tunnels," Hawthorne replied. "But they'll be here soon. Buck told me in a send that he and Starfrost were going to grab some food from the store rooms."
"And Skyfire?" This time it was Fiddlesticks that asked the question.
"Filling water skins," Ebony answered. "She sent me on ahead and I met up with Hawthorne not too long ago."
"The sooner they get here, the better," Hawthorne said. "I've been waiting a long time to see the sky again. We all have."
"How long have you all been down here?" Skywise asked of the small group, moving further away from Greymung's throne now that Cutter was watching him again.
None of the four elves replied immediately and began conferreing among themselves through sending. "About six turns of the seasons, near as we can figure," Whistler finally replied for the group.
"Six... turns..." Skywise said slowly. He didn't know how any elf could stay down here for so long and not go mad like a wolf with foaming sickness. Cutter had been held captive down here and came away from it alright, but that had only been for one year. And he'd chosen to do it, had been trying to prove a point to the trolls about the honour of elves.
Further conversation was forestalled by the sound of two boisterous howls coming from outside the throme room. Even the wolves stopped what they were doing to listen. Fiddlesticks, Whistler, Ebony and Hawthorne raised their own voices to return the greeting howl moments before two male elves came running into the throne room, each weighted down with several shoulder bags of food.
"We grabbed as much as we could carry," Buck said, smiling unrepentantly for having raided the trolls' food supplies.
"Mostly smoked meat," Starfrost revealed. "Not the best tasting stuff, for sure, but we figured it would last longer than the fresher stuff.
They began to unload the shoulder bags from around their necks, piling them close together on the floor. In total, six bags ended up on the floor, while Buck and Starfrost each kept one bag on them, shifting the weight behind their backs to make it easier to bear the weight.
"Skyfire?" Starfrost asked, looking around and not seeing her.
"Here." Skyfire appeared from the tunnel to the right of Greymung's throne. She spared the troll king a swift, sharp glance as she passed him by, but otherwise paid him no mind. She swung the large sack full of water skins to the floor and straightened, glad to be rid of the weight. It hadn't been easy running all the way up here with so much water on her back, but she'd made it, thank the High Ones. Each drop of water could mean the difference between life and death and she'd had a feeling she should bring as many skins as she could possibly manage to carry.
More than anything about Skyfire's appearance, what stood out most to Cutter's tribe - as well as Cutter, himself - was the chief's lock tied up in her sun-streaked, flame colored tresses.
Nightrunner, leader of the wolf pack, was up on his feet and padding over toward Skyfire before Cutter realized what he was doing. He sensed this elf was different from the other new ones. She had an authority about her that they lacked.
Skyfire stood her ground, waiting as the wolf circled her, taking in her scent. When Nightrunner stood back in front of her, he raised up on his hind legs and placed his paws on her shoulders, resting nearly his full weight on her.
Cutter took a step forward but managed to stop himself from moving any closer than that. Nightrunner considered it his duty as chief wolf to test anyone that could pose a threat to the pack - this included elves.
After a few rough licks, Nightrunner was satified that Skyfire was neither a threat, nor was she weak, and dropped back down on all four feet. He returned to Cutter's side calmly, with an assurance that he had done his job to protect the pack.
Skyfire and Cutter exchanged a glance that said much, even with no sending or speaking involved. Skyfire had no intentions of causing problems - at least in the immediate future - and would defer to Cutter in the decisions to be made on their journey, despite being chief in her own right. All she wanted, all she cared about, was safety for her small tribe. It was what Cutter wanted as well.
Skyfire and her tribe each took a pack of the food and a water skin to carry, except for Fiddlesticks, who was only permitted to carry her own water skin. Cutter directed others to help with the rest. With the added number of elves, they could ill afford to leave anything behind that might prove useful later on.
Without so much as a backward glance, seven elves who'd spent six turns underground as slaves left their prison behind.