Chapter four
The council of Elrond was not the kind of thing that Raksha enjoyed. There were representatives from the dwarves, sylvan elves, hobbits and men, all sitting in a circle, arguing over menial details for several hours, during which she had to sit quietly in the shadows. Eventually, Elrond called attention to the problem of the One Ring. The way in which he did it made him sound, to Raksha, quite dull, as though he had just discovered something that everyone had already known about. This whole meeting was grating on her nerves. By the time Boromir had claimed that the ring would be best served as a weapon for Gondor, her lips had crept up over her teeth and a deep rumble in her chest, low enough that even the elves would mistake it for the distant waterfalls, threatened to escape her throat. Finally Gandalf, who had arrived in Rivendell half a day after Raksha had left, did something interesting. In order to calm the raging argument between the races, Gandalf invoked the Black Tongue. To Raksha's surprise, she understood perfectly, before he even translated it. The elves, upon hearing the foul words, cringed back and covered their ears. Both dwarves lost their boisterous attitudes and sat perfectly still. The men, Boromir and Aragorn, and Frodo, all looked at Gandalf with fearful expressions upon their faces.
Raksha perked up, and the growl died in her chest. In perfect time with Gandalf, she spoke to the whole group,
"One ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the Darkness bind them."
Gandalf looked at her, surprise written in his scent and on his face. "And who might you be? I had not noticed you there." He looked at Elrond, situated at his side, with a look that said clearly, was she even invited?
"Raksha, I am called in my tongue. ShadowSong in yours." Gandalf did not recognize her, that much was clear from his face.
"How do you know the Black speech, ShadowSong? It is not used abroad," yet, Gandalf added under his breath. None but Raksha and Elrond could hear the actual word, but every person could feel it being implied. And all eyes turned to her. Deep-set eyes shadowed by thick, hairy brows, sharp, angled eyes reflecting silver sound, intense eyes on interested faces, and one set of child-like eyes, brimming with innocence. Raksha could feel the pressure on her, and she drew back into herself, shuffling her paws together and pulling her tail in tighter. She dropped her head bellow her shoulders. There were many men, gathered here, and only one other woman, a cold, blond and distant-looking Sylvan Elf. One man, fine. Two men, and she would start to feel nervous. Three, and no matter how rude it would appear, and she would have to leave the room. But this was much more than three, or four even. There were nearly twenty. Panic blossomed in her breast, and she drew her lips back a bit. She shifted deeper into the shadows, trying her best to disappear.
"I just did. I never learned it, but understand it perfectly." Gandalf looked as though she had confirmed something he had long expected, and settled back into his seat. Elrond looked grim.
"The ring must go to Mordor, to be cast in the fires of mount doom. One of you must do this." Said Elrond, again with the uncharacteristic blunt stupidity. But he got a reaction. The races started to argue again, each fighting the other for the right to bear the ring to that gods-forsaken place. When the topic left the Ring and became a flurry of racist comments, Raksha shook her head. They were like a pack of coyotes, fighting with each other over the same cause. It made no sense to her.
"I'll do it!" Frodo volunteered. Raksha was the only one who heard over the din of the verbal battle. "I'll do it!" Frodo repeated. "I'll take the ring into Mordor!" this time, every one heard him. When Frodo said that he would not go alone, Raksha was surprised that only four people volunteered to accompany him. Boromir, Aragorn, Gimli and to Raksha's relief, the crown prince of Mirkwood, Legolas, came forward and pledged their weapons and lives. Gandalf said that he would be going, too, and then Merry and Pippin dashed out of the bushes, just as she had expected they would. Sam came barreling around the corner at almost exactly the same time.
"We're coming too!" the hobbits shouted loudly.
"I don't suppose that I could stop you now could I?" Elrond sighed dramatically. "You shall be the fellowship of the ring." Moves of finality were made, and Raksha stood to leave. As the separate races talked amongst themselves, Elrond approached her.
"You should go with them." He said to her, quietly. She had her head through the courtyard door, and when she spun around, she clipped her nose on the door jam. She snarled loudly, at the minor pain and at Elrond. "I have noticed your boredom, and the restlessness that stirs your heart. I suspect that the Valar mean for you to go with them on this journey." Raksha conceded to his point, and ceased her snarl. She wrapped her tail over his shoulder and bowed her head, pressing her muzzle against his abdomen. He was right, she had been feeling increasingly bored and restless. Even Elrohir and Elladan could not fully entertain her for long. Her runs had become increasingly long and difficult. But she did not want to leave her few friends behind. She loved them, and trusted them. The fellowship was made up of strangers, and they were all male. If she left, she could not come running to Arwen for comfort.
"You are a creature of high honor, yes?" Elrond stepped back from her and lifted her soft chin with his hand. Raksha nodded yes. Her sense honor was one of her most redeeming features. "Then I implore of you, go with the fellowship."
"Are you sure?" Raksha was certain that she would end up going, but she wanted to give Elrond a hard time first. He nodded firmly, once.
"Go now, join them. The Twins will meet you at the library after meal time. And I'm sure Arwen will have something to say to you." With some of her worries soothed, Raksha walked after the fellowship. Her tail swung out behind her, weaving slightly. Elrond looked after her, relieved. He had not wanted her to go, but felt that it would be cruel to contain the restless, anxious creature without offering a way out. And seeing how she had not put up much of a fight, he figured that she would have chosen to go after them on her own anyway.
Raksha felt unsure, nervous and somewhat excited as she trailed behind the fellowship. She did not want to introduce herself, especially with MindSpeech, but she found that it would seem rude to just randomly show up for the ride. She knew that Legolas, the young prince of Mirkwood was somewhat scared of her, on account of an incident two years ago in which she nearly took his head off. Aragorn would be somewhat ashamed by the fact that she had forcibly carried him on her back. The hobbits were intimidated by her size, and Boromir had never met her before. Her tail quivered with tension.
The fellowship, further up the road from her, soon disbanded to their separate quarters to prepare for their evening meal. Raksha marked their behavior to each other as they separated. Boromir stalked off all aloof and uninterested in the rest of the group. Legolas and Aragorn both bade the hobbits well and departed together to the elf's room. They were old friends, Raksha figured. Gandalf patted the Halflings on their short heads and strode around the corner towards the gardens. The four hobbits chatted animatedly to each other as they continued to waddle in the wrong direction. None of the hobbits had rooms in that part of the city, or down that hall.
Quickly stepping up behind the diminutive creatures, Raksha made a chuffing sound to catch their attention. All four leapt nearly a foot in the air (figuratively, of course, no hobbit could jump that high) and they momentarily stopped talking. As they stared dumbly at her, Raksha nudged them gently with her nose in the right direction. As soft as she was in the gesture, the terrified hobbits nearly toppled over on stiff legs. Then they squeaked and dashed off, in the right direction thankfully. Raksha sighed heavily. This would not be fun.
The best way to meet the taller members would be at the mess hall, but most of the elves still hated her and she had no desire to aggravate that by intruding on meal time. And anyway, she needed to hunt again. The next best thing would be out in the forest where she was most comfortable.
Gandalf had headed for the gardens, which were almost as good. Still down from the hobbits negative reaction to her help, Raksha set off to find the wizard.
As she passed through the gates to the gardens, her spirit soared. The roses were in full bloom and even though she could not see their magnificent colors, she could smell each delicate blossom and hear the textures of each leaf, petal and thorn. The birds twittered rudely at each other, but their song was playful. Raksha's tail lifted from the ground and wagged gracefully from side to side. She liked the garden. It was a happy place, and it soothed her depressions and restlessness.
She walked slowly through the gardens until she heard Gandalf seated on a bench around the corner. Then she lowered her head and ears, stilled her tail and proceeded cautiously. She did not expect it from him, but people tended to react negatively to enormous black wolves when they get paid an unexpected visit before mealtime.
Thank the Valar that he did not. Gandalf didn't even notice her for a long time. He just sat there, smoking his pipe and looking into the back of his head. She settled back on her haunches and waited for him to notice her. Even though she spent most of her time as a wolf, she still possessed the silent step of a NightSong Elf. It was another ten minutes before the wizard looked up and met her copper eyes, which glowed eerily in the bright sunset light.
"Hum… you are Miss Raksha, indeed you are! I have been contemplating what Elrond told me of you. He said that you were unusual, and I now see how true he was. Tell me, where in this world did you come from?" Raksha chuckled deeply, as only a wolf can.
"I did not come from this world. I came to this world." Gandalf looked somewhat confused. Even the Maiar apparently did not know about switching worlds. But then, maybe only the NightSongs were the only ones who could, seeing as they spent hundreds upon thousands of years doing nothing but learn. "If you would like an explanation, you have only to ask. However, I did not come here for uncomfortable trivia. I came to ask if I would be allowed to come with the fellowship on this journey."
"Hum… well, I think that that would be okay, but I will have to ask Frodo first. He is, after all," Gandalf said in his low, gravelly voice. "the Ringbearer."
"He will probably say no. All the hobbits think that I'm a boogeyman out to get them and eat their hairy little toes." Gandalf laughed at her words. That sounded much like a hobbit, indeed.
"Nevertheless, he should be warned if there is going to be a guard dog coming along." Gandalf smiled wryly at the slightly offended expression on her face. Just like any wolf, Raksha hated being compared with a dog. "But yes, because I doubt that anyone could say no to you and get away with it, you can come along." With a wolfish smile, Raksha stood to walk away. Her tail waved comfortably around her heels and her eyes were closed in contention.
Deep in the forest that surrounded Rivendell, Raksha hunted the most challenging prey that she could think of: a grizzly bear that had been terrorizing the goats. She dodged through the sparse undergrowth and deadfall, scent-tracing the huge beast. It was more than she could ever eat in one day, or even one week, but the elves would use the pelt, provided that she could kill it without mauling it, and they wanted it gone. So did Raksha.
She found the bear near the path to the grazing fields. It was huge, bigger even than she was. The two were almost exactly the same height, but the bear outweighed the slender wolf by at least two tons. Its deep brown and gold fur was thick and soft looking, gleaming with health. But there was a glint in its eyes that even the blind she-wolf could not miss, for it appeared in SoundSight too. Raksha could smell the blood on its muzzle, the rotting flesh in its six inch claws and the will to kill in its emotions. Her heart thudded in her chest and excitement thrilled through her veins. This was a worthy opponent.
Unlike an herbivore, the space behind the skull was coated in heavy muscle, so the greatest weak spot would be the throat. The bear was fast, but bulky. Agility would be her greatest ally in this fight. The grizzly could send her into status with a single hit to the head, or cripple her beyond repair if she was not careful.
The great bear was completely unaware as Raksha crept forward, silent as a moth on the wind. She stayed downwind from it, creeping closer while still remaining out of sight. She was only twenty feet away when the bear sensed something wrong. It turned on her, its piggy eyes glaring pure hatred. When it rose on its hind legs, it was nearly fifteen feet tall. It sniffed the air, its massive nose twitching and its tongue flicking. With its head up like that, Raksha had prime access to its throat, but its paws would catch her before she could do much damage. Unless… a plan started to formulate in her mind.
One very quick dash and she was out in front of the bear. The huge beast was momentarily taken aback by her sudden presence, but quickly became enraged. It rumbled loudly, baring its enormous teeth. Raksha responded with a growl of her own, quieter and more high pitched but warning enough for most creatures to tell that she meant business. Not this one, though. It crashed heavily to all four feet and shook its head at her, spraying spittle in all directions. Raksha ceased her snarl and cowered into the ground in mock terror. Sensing the feigned weakness, the bear charged. Only thirteen feet had separated the two huge animals, but the bear never found its mark; Raksha had simply disappeared. Reeling with confusion, the great beast stood back on his hind feet and again cast for the wolf's forest-and-blood scent. Raksha, who had darted around to the right, circled back to the front, but this time much closer. Only three feet separated her delicate head from those enormous, knife sharp claws. The bear noticed her there and, quick as lightning, slashed out in a blow that would have rendered her unable to remain in this world. Thankfully, the dark she-wolf was faster, ducking under the swinging paw and moving in closer, then leaping up. The bear reacted just as she had planned, trying to crush her in a hug. But the last trick up her metaphorical sleeve was not one that the grizzly could anticipate. Besides being a wolf and a NightSong, Raksha had a half-and-half form which took less than one second to completely transform into.
Forepaws became slender, taloned hands. The fur on her ruff lengthened and her under fur shortened to a slick velvet. Her hips changed to an upright position and her chest flattened. Her teeth remained the same length, and just as sharp as they drove up into the reeling bears throat. A quick shake of her head and the bear fell back from her, its throat and jugular artery torn mortally. Raksha quickly changed back to full wolf form and quickstepped away from the stumbling animal. But not fast enough. The bear took one last gasp and fell forward, swinging a set of heavy claws at her. In the near silence following the end of the bear's growl, Raksha did not notice it coming until it was almost too late.
She just managed to get her head out of the way before the claws made contact. She barely noticed any pain at first, just a sharp, wet tugging sensation. The bear collapsed, very much dead, to the floor of the glade. Sticky blood seeped slowly from the fatal wound. Raksha stumbled back another step or two, then fell on her side as the pain hit her. There was fire burning all down the side of her neck and shoulder, three long, deep stripes of agony. She couldn't contain the un-wolf like scream that tore from her throat. Golden tears seeped over her soft cheeks. Red blood ran from her mouth while blue blood ran from her nose.
Pain deafened her with white noise, and she was effectively blind for what ever happened next. All she knew was that she lay there for many minutes, bleeding icy blood all over the ground and crying as she had been when she first came to Rivendell. Then someone laid their hand on her face, with their thumb near her eye and their fingers behind her long ear. That same person crooned soft words of comfort in Sindarin, a language that her shocked brain could not comprehend, but the tones were reassuring. Eventually the bleeding slowed and the burning pain faded somewhat. She still could not focus enough to hear the tiny microsounds that let her see the world, but the words stood out loud and clear. A song, gentle and lilting as any of those from her homeland. Tense muscles relaxed slowly and her crying eased to a soft whimper. The hands, nimble and delicate, stroked her ears, the back of her head and a little on her neck and side. Raksha sighed softly and opened her eyes a bit, trying to convey her gratitude to whomever it was who had come to her aid. Exhaustion made her eye lids heavy, and she nearly gave in to Reverie. Her own healing ability's would work faster if she let herself sleep, but she wanted to know who had helped her. She sniffed the air, nearly choking on thickening blood, and managed to catch a somewhat familiar scent. Pine-birch-new leaf-leaf fall, similar to her own scent, but different. This particular tag belonged to the one and only prince of Mirkwood.
Ahahh... She really did not want him to see her in any state of weakness, especially now that she was going to be traveling beside him. Raksha moaned and swung her head up, twisting into a leaning position. Her SoundSight was coming back, but most things were just silvery blurs, there but without any form. Her sense of gravity was way off, her world spinning as much as it can when you can't see, and she nearly fell back to her side. Instead, she struggled to a seated position, ignoring the burn in her shoulder. The dark shape of the bear stood out to her, then the trees, then a smaller, much nearer figure with glowing hair and a worried expression on his youthful features. Remaining in her seated position, Raksha lapped gently at the long slashes. They hurt more even than the orc arrows had, though they were lesser wounds. Legolas stepped back after a moment, then in TreeSpeak said
"Are you alright, Lady Raksha?" sincere worry coloured his tone, and touched Raksha's heart.
"I'm fine," she said, knowing it unlikely that he would believe her words. Relief came slowly to her wounds by way of her naturally super-high metabolism and healing abilities. She knew that it was only a matter of minutes before she would be fit to stand and walk.
"I somewhat doubt that," he said in return, stepping back up close to her and pressing her back down to the ground. Raksha did not resist, and collapsed in an ungraceful heap at his feet. The jolt to her injured shoulder and neck hurt, but less than it would have were she a normal wolf. "Because that is what I said the last time I got injured, and that nearly killed me. You just took a heavy hit from a grizzly bear, and you are not fine. Let me tend you."
Raksha lay her head back with a groan and let him examine the rapidly healing stripes of blue flesh. Legolas whistled in amazement when he saw how fast her recovery was. The bone of her shoulder blade had been a streak of white amidst the periwinkle flesh, but it was now covered with new muscle. All three rakes were half as deep as when he had arrived, and the bleeding was mostly stopped. He was astounded when, not twenty minutes after receiving the possibly mortal injury, there was almost no sign of it ever having happened, just three long, thin scars like fine silver wire under her fur. He stood back as Raksha pulled herself heavily back to her feet. He watched open-mouthed as she shook bits of moss, leaves and even a feather out of her pelt.
"I said I was fine," Raksha said to the still reeling prince of Mirkwood. "And I meant it." Raksha turned her attention to the bear carcass. She had no idea how to drag it back to Rivendell without damaging the pelt. By the paw, perhaps? Or I might be able to carry it by the skin of its shoulders without tripping… it's not too far...
"How did that happen? Surely you should not be conscious now, indeed not even alive!" poor Legolas, Raksha thought. I have inadvertently given him quite the fright.
"And yet a am alive, whole and hail. Fret not, young one. Forget that this ever happened and do not let it bother you." She said in her best mothering voice. The same that she used when talking to her baby cousin, who was only six thousand years old… Raksha felt a bout of homesickness well up in her heart. She missed her family, such as it was. But she could not return yet, for there were things unfinished here and painful memories there. Someday, maybe, but not yet.
The past is behind us, and the future will never be. Live for now, for it is the only thing that truly exists.
Grabbing the great dead beast in her jaws, Raksha started dragging it back through the trees. Legolas shook his head vigorously and followed, blinking his eyes sharply. He was utterly confused, but Raksha's minor memory spell did the trick and kept him from thinking back too hard. Eventually, noticing the time, he deviated from the broad trail that the bear was creating in the soft loam and returned to Rivendell ahead of her. Raksha watched him go in annoyance; she was too encumbered by the great, bloody fur-ball to follow him down the fast trails.
Several pains-taking hours later, the invisible sun was settling lower in the sky and a small team of elves arrived to help in her efforts. The Twins, Glorfindel and several others who quite clearly loathed being this near to her arrived, led by Legolas and bearing tarps, ropes and poles. Raksha nearly laughed at herself for thinking cruelly of the young Elf-lord. He was perhaps her greatest new ally in this venture that they would soon embark on. Unlocking her jaw, Raksha gratefully slid her teeth out of the bear's thick hide.
Once the company had got the grizzly on the tarps and settled across fourteen able shoulders, Raksha was free to finish her day as she wished.
She was not hungry in the slightest, so she spent the rest of the day visiting with Arwen and Elrond, and later the twins, who had arrived back home early that day from hunting orcs with the rangers. Arwen was sad that she was leaving; she would miss her, being the only female companion she had in Rivendell. Elladan and Elrohir had made a collar for her, that was extremely adjustable and would serve as a sword belt should she decide to fight as a NightSong. Raksha was thankful that they had reinforced the light black leather with thin wires: she doubted that otherwise it would survive the general wear-and tear of her day. For the second time that day, golden tears streaked down her face, in sharp and beautiful contrast to her black fur and the silver markings, like gold and silver and obsidian.
That night Raksha did not sleep. She needed no rest, for her nerves were fried with anxiety. She didn't want to go, and yet she couldn't wait to leave. She spent the night in the twin's room, pacing around the perimeter and watching the elves at rest. She would miss them the most, she decided sometime around midnight. She loved being near them; they were funny in a sarcastic way, and they enjoyed doing the same things as she. And being as light as they both were, they could ride double on her narrow back with no troubles.
The sunrise found her sitting quietly on the balcony, her tail curled over her paws, contemplating the simplicities of life. Elrohir and Elladan came and put their arms over her shoulders simultaneously, and perched gently on either side of her, wrapping her in a dual hug. She sighed in contentment.
"I will miss you both," she said without turning to either of them. "But I will not let that hold me back. I am ready to leave, Brothers of My Heart."
I am sorry that it took me so long to finish this chapter; I did not have much time for typing. First person POV starts next chapter as soon as she leaves Rivendell: this style is killing me X( Thank you to everyone who reviewed, it means a lot to me. Please continue to review! Thank you!
PS: Raksha has a twin in the otherworld; does this affect her affinity to Elladan and Elrohir? Maybe. I know that she misses her own brother though!
