Disclaimer: Not mine. (sigh)

Author's notes: Surprise! Two chapters for the price of one update! LOL... but unfortunately, we might be looking at a long spell of no updates after this. My exams start November 12th until December 4th, so I probably won't be updating or going online or having time to write... I'll try, but prepare for a long dry spell. Of course, I'll make time for the contest when someone wins, though. (nods)

Well, enjoy chapter 10! Wolflight is almost over, just one more chapter to go and then Wolfsong begins. Cheerio!

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Chapter 10

"Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending."

- Maria Robinson

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When I woke again, I was wrapped up in warm rugs, settled down next to a small fire that had burned out sometime during the night. Instinct told me that dawn was not far off, and I dared to raise my head a little. The pain there had receded into a dull throbbing, but there was something wrapped around my head – I scrabbled at it carefully, and realized after a moment that it was a bandage, scabbed with some dried blood from my head wound.

The sound of familiar, steady footfalls came from my left, and I turned. The world spun slightly, but suddenly righted itself just as Gandalf appeared in my line of sight. I was glad to see the Wizard, and I stood up to tell him so, whining low in my throat and waving my tail – oh yeah. My poor, half-naked tail….

"Lady, you should be sleeping still," sighed Gandalf, but there was an underlying tone of affectionate amusement in his tone. "No more nightmares, I hope?"

I shook my head, then wished I hadn't, for the world began shaking as well. I was nearly convinced there was an earthquake going on, but logic won out and I knew it was just my head wound causing my vision to blur and spin whenever I moved too quickly or too energetically. Gandalf "tsked" under his breath, and sat down beside me, fingers grazing my bandaged head as he took a look. I sat down also – by now I'd started to figure out that standing had been a bad idea.

"Fuzzy vision, Lady?" asked Gandalf, and he gave me a stern look that killed any desire I might have had to lie or line the truth with cotton wool. Sighing, I nodded reluctantly.

"Headache?"

Another nod.

"Confusion? Inability to recall past events?"

Shake, shake.

"Hm." The Wizard stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Disorientation? Clumsiness?"

I raised an eyebrow at him, but shook my head to both questions.

"Hm, hmm." Without another word, he gestured for me to lie down, and I did so, stretching out beside him. It did feel better now that I was flat on the ground, I supposed, with Gandalf gently stroking my fur. We sat together in silence for a long time, before he unexpectedly broke the silence, asking, "You've been missing them, haven't you, little one?"

I stiffened and started to get up, but he held me down. Them? Well, if he meant Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli – and I didn't doubt that he did – then yes, I missed them. Thinking of them made me feel… I couldn't describe it, it was like having a hole in my heart where there hadn't been one before…or maybe it had always been there and I'd never noticed. Well, I noticed it now, and it hurt, because it was empty, because it wasn't full…

"I'm sorry, little one." The Wizard met my startled gaze. "I thought, after the events at Edoras, that perhaps you would be better off away from them for a while. I thought that giving you a goal to achieve, a mission to complete, would help you to feel needed and trusted again, and that it would give you time to forgive. But it seems that it hasn't helped much after all…"

Forgive? What was there to forgive? I'd attacked them, not the other way around! I sat up suddenly, dodging the hand that was put out to hold me down, and stared at Gandalf, bewildered and confused. His eyes were soft and wise and knowing, lit by firelight against the fading shadows of night. Slowly, he explained: "I meant for you to forgive yourself, Lady. What happened in Edoras caused you to fear yourself. I saw it in your eyes when you woke that morning, and I saw it again yesterday when you fought the Orcs. The old Lady, the one we met in the woods near Moria, would not have hesitated to kill those Orcs that posed such a danger to her friends, to the men of Rohan – yet you did, when you realized how ferocious you were being. I knew you were remembering Aragorn, for I saw the terror and regret in your eyes."

I hesitated, honestly not knowing how to respond to that. Forgive myself? He was right, I hadn't yet. I didn't feel I ever should. Aragorn and the others, they had forgiven me, I knew, but I didn't quite understand how they could have. It wasn't that I wasn't eternally grateful for their forgiveness, but that I didn't see how… I'd attacked them, the wolf had attacked them. But none of them had hated me or blamed me…

Whimpering out a desperate groan, I scrabbled at my head with my paws as all the pain and shame and guilt and self-hatred came flooding back. I loved my friends, yet I had betrayed them. I'd been too weak – too weak to stand up to that which I should have had the Courage to fight back against.

Hands pulled at my paws, bringing them away from my head. "You'll hurt yourself!" admonished Gandalf, looking concernedly at me. "Oh, Lady." His expression sad, he blew out his breath in a quiet sigh. "You still blame yourself, don't you?"

How couldn't I?

"You do not understand." The Wizard placed my paws on the ground again, and looked at me with such an expression that I could not look away. "Lady, we know you are not to blame. We knew that it wasn't you. Why do you think Legolas missed you with his arrow? He couldn't bring himself to kill or harm you, not even to stop you from hurting the others – hence why he asked your forgiveness, for he felt that by doing so he failed you."

Legolas had missed me on purpose?

A prickle of hope filled me even as I looked at him with naked emotion. I couldn't have hidden my feelings if I'd tried; there was just too much of it all and it overwhelmed me. Being a wolf, I couldn't cry, but it felt like I was on the verge of shedding tears – that was how bad it was. The horror of what I'd done, the guilt and the shame - it was like days of heavy rain that had flooded the reservoir, and my chest represented the floodgates…and they were about to burst open. This close, unfiltered, Gandalf couldn't miss my pain… But still I was startled to see a lone tear fall from his eyes as he reached out to pull my head into his lap. I let him, and he held me, stroking my back, his chest heaving with emotion, though no more tears fell… except maybe in his heart, and my own.

"Oh, Lady," he murmured at last. "You do not know what we see when we look at you. We see a wolf, yes, but you are no true wolf and it is more than apparent for those who look closely at you, past the outer appearance and into the you inside… There is light and beauty inside you, and a sentience in your eyes that is not present in the gaze of other wolves and animals – an intelligence and soul that is unique to Men, Elves, Dwarves, Hobbits, and others like them. We see Light in you, little one, and it was not present on that night when you attacked Edoras. It was clear to every one of us that you were not yourself. And it is time you understood why." Gently helping me to sit up, he looked into my eyes and smiled a little.

"You are wolf and peredhil, Lady. One is Shadow, the other Light. And when Light and Shadow share one body, there will always be a struggle between who will reign."

Something began to whisper in my mind, and subtle warmth began around my neck. It surprised me, even as I realized that a strong purple glow was beginning to shine forth. The whispers were not intrusive or distracting, but they were there, murmuring in a voice that was familiar yet unknown, gentle yet powerful, using a language that I did not understand and yet knew all too well. Gandalf did not stop speaking, in fact his smile grew wider if anything, and he reached out to touch the Stone of Knowledge as it glowed.

"Ah," he murmured. "Knowledge, yes, arguably one of a warrior's most powerful weapons…" He sighed, and continued: "This you should know: Ever the wolf will try to serve her Master, Lady," he told me seriously, somberly. "Should she succeed, Sauron will have gained a powerful servant indeed, for you are the Stonebearer, and within you there is an unending river of untapped potential and strength. Yes, for you were chosen to be the Stonebearer, and if you did not have the strength to be who you are then the Stones would not glow for you, they would never have chosen you or consented to have you bear them. You must let your Light shine, Lady, for it is Light that turns back the darkness, the only thing that the Shadow fears. Have you never seen how it runs for dear life when even the tiniest of flames are sparked into existence? Have faith in yourself, Lady, and believe. Hope, for hope gives strength to the Light that you bear. And if you fight and do not fear, Lady, you will find that your friends will fight with you - for they love you." He ran a finger over my muzzle teasingly, and I couldn't stop myself from smiling up at him, though incredulity shone in my eyes.

"Yes, you silly, stubborn creature, we love you. You wormed your way into our hearts somehow, my Lady Wolf, and now you'll find it won't be as easy to get out as you think. Oh, no – you're stuck with us, little Lady."

My heart felt full. Laughing, my mouth open in a wide wolf grin, I snuffle-licked his hand and pounced on the Wizard to snuggle in his hug. The pale lavender glow of Kindness joined the purple glow of Knowledge, and I was surprised as the Light of the Stones chased away the dark emotions within me, weakening their power over me.

Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli – they loved me? I could hardly believe it, yet words from Gandalf's mouth couldn't possibly be lies… especially not about this important a subject. It felt like a great burden had been lifted from my heart, and I felt lighter than I had in days. Gandalf, dear Gandalf – did he know how much he had done for me?

Light appeared in the east, and a silver dawn broke slowly across the land. The Wizard laughed and pushed me off him, and together we turned to watch the sun rise.

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Morning came, and I greeted it on my own two paws, ignoring the throbbing in my head, a pain like the pounding of drums beneath my scalp. Gandalf placed me on Shadowfax again, and I did not argue – I couldn't run, for if I did I knew that I would not make it to Helm's Deep, and I'd slow the Riders down. Something inside me told me that we had no more time to waste; we had to ride on the wings of the wind and hope we got there in time.

After a quick, hasty breakfast, the Riders were ready to resume our journey. Éomer gave the signal, and we rode out. It was the worst ride of my life, for unlike before I was now fully conscious and able to feel every bump of Shadowfax's body against mine. Gandalf held me on securely, but still I thought that the ground seemed unreasonably far away. I know that Shadowfax was probably a smoother ride than any other horse in Arda, but I was beginning to feel like a sack of potatoes on his back.

We did not stop for rest or food. Had I been riding as the Men were, I guess my rear end would not have enjoyed it. We rode through the day, and later, through the night. Éomer's face was tense, his bearing tight, and I saw that Erkenbrand and some of the Marshals were the same. I knew they feared that they would be too late. They feared what they would find at the Keep, and to some extent, what they would have to face. They worried for friends and brothers-in-arms, for family and loved ones who were already there. A storm broke through the silence of the night, but we rode on still through the rain until it stopped, and I wondered at what it was that gave us all the strength to keep going through it all.

Friendship. Hope. Powerful motivators indeed, they spurred us on to new heights that we previously deemed unattainable, inspired us to do things that we thought we could never do – and all for those we loved.

Aragorn. Did he live still? Legolas? Gimli? And not just them – what about Sam and Frodo, whom I had seen in danger in Mordor not too long ago? And Merry and Pippin? Gandalf had said they were safe – were they still in that condition?

Gandalf's breath hitched, and I twisted my head to look up at the Wizard in alarm. "Helm's Deep is but an hour away, at full gallop," he whispered to me. "See – the night is almost over. I hope – but I told Aragorn to look to the east when dawn rose on the fifth day. I pray we are in time."

Waving to Éomer, the Wizard cried to Shadowfax: "Away, Shadowfax! Make haste! Our friends are in need of your speed!" And the loyal white horse reared once and whinnied, and leapt away, ahead of the horses of Rohan. I hung on as well as I could, and we raced the dawn towards the great fortress called Helm's Deep.

Not for the first time, I witnessed the sun rising over the land, and though I had seen it many times before, it was a new revelation to see the morning chasing away the shadows of night, which ran away and disappeared. In the end, the Shadow was only a passing thing, fading away with the presence of Light. A new day would come, and when the sun shone, it would shine out the clearer, and Hope would come with it to strengthen the Light.

Shadowfax galloped up a ridge, and then, we saw it – Helm's Deep. We had made it, we were here. And what a sight greeted us. The Uruk-Hai of Isengard were a pulsing, malicious black wave, spread across the ground below the ridge, and I saw that they had somehow destroyed the Deeping Wall and breached the Keep. I saw many had fallen from both sides, and there, on the causeway, Théoden-King had ridden out with his men in what was apparently a last-bid attempt to fight back, to retain what little hope and courage remained within his heart and in the hearts of his men. My own heart leapt, for Aragorn was with him on a horse I had not seen before, fighting like a champion, as straight and tall on the dark bay stallion as a King. Neither man had noticed us yet, nor anyone else. But I knew the Ranger would not have forgotten Gandalf's words.

"Look to my coming at first light on the fifth day. At dawn, look to the east."

Directed by an instinct I could not name, I slid carefully from Shadowfax's back, landing on the ground with a heavy thud but also with the balance all four-legged creatures have. Head and tail high, I tilted my muzzle to the sky and began to sing the song of the wolf. Silhouetted against the rising sun, I howled out a song in the language that all wolves knew, and though I did not understand it completely, I knew what I was singing. It wasn't a great heroic speech, nor was it even a sentence. It was but one word, and that word was simply: Hope.

From the causeway, I saw the Riders there turn to look up, towards the light of the sun. Théoden shielded his eyes and gazed at us in wonder, a smile slowly brightening his exhausted face. Aragorn saw us too, and waved his sword to us in triumph and relieved joy. Around his neck, I saw the yellow glow of the Stone of Hope begin, and it poured over the men in a tidal wave of Light, and I saw strength return to all it touched, renewing their energy and faith. From the trenches, I saw an answering orange glow shine out defiantly, refusing to be stamped out, and a deep blue Light came from a tall, slender figure on the ramparts who was fighting with all the strength in his Elven body, knives flashing as he whirled with the Uruk-Hai in a deadly dance.

Relief filled me as I saw all three of them - my friends were here, alive, and they fought on still. Relief filled me with joy, and my song intensified in volume and emotion, until at last, turning slowly on its final notes, moving to its end, I was forced to end the song and take a breath. From his seat on Shadowfax, Gandalf give me a look of mingled wonder and approval as hoof beats signaled Éomer and Erkenbrand's arrival, with the éored just behind them.

"Théoden-King stands alone," Gandalf told them quietly, as they took in the sight below us. But rather than let the overwhelming odds fill them with despair, Éomer's face tightened and filled with determination, and he drew his sword.

"Not alone," he answered, and raised his hand, a signal for the group to turn and face the battle. "Rohirrim!"

On the causeway, I saw Théoden's face break into a smile; saw him mouth Éomer's name.

"To the King!" cried the Third Marshal, a shout that echoed throughout the group of Riders as weapons were drawn, and then Éomer plunged his horse down from the ridge, towards the sea of fighting, and his men leapt after him. Gandalf and Shadowfax followed too, and I broke into a loping run, following them - straight into the wall of Uruk-Hai. Crashing onto one, I snarled and knocked his spear from his hand, and began fighting.

With this dawn would come victory. I scented fear in our enemies, and in my heart I knew that Rohan was saved. Still, I took down Uruk after Uruk, right up to the moment when the forces of Isengard knew they had lost, and their spirit broke as they ran from the wrath of the Rohirrim, towards a strange forest. The Riders chased them until Éomer rode in front, crying: "Stay out of the forest! Keep away from the trees!"

I cannot describe what happened next, and I doubt any of us truly knew, but screams and cries came from the forest, and not a single Orc escaped to tell the tale of what happened. The forest eventually fell silent, and I felt a grim satisfaction coming from it, and inside my heart I felt strangely that justice had been served.

Shuddering, I limped on tired paws towards Éomer and Gandalf, smiled up at them both – and collapsed, safe in the knowledge that the battle for Rohan had been won. My last thought was: 'Take that, Saruman!' and then the darkness claimed me just as Éomer reached me and lifted me smilingly into his arms.

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Peredhil – Half-Elven; also a name given to Lord Elrond

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RK9.