"If we come near enough and she howls, it ought to draw her pack to us." Ninder, of Gondor, attempted to sound optimistic and professional.
"I suppose," Glorfindel replied. "But then again, I do not understand the cry of a wolf; if she howls to them, it may warn them that she is my captive."
Legolas smiled slightly at the man's expression, as he backed away from the Elf. "They do not understand your reason for keeping this wolf, Glorfindel."
The older Elf shook his head in agreement, and resumed tearing up dried meat and packing it. Asfaloth was grazing in the tall grasses near by, grateful to be free of saddle and bridle.
Legolas sat down and watched the wolf, who was tied firmly at Glorfindel's side. She had given up on frightening them with her snarls, and settled for lying in the way of the company and looking sullen.
"She will travel when you are ready, Legolas," Glorfindel spoke, interrupting Legolas' thoughts.
Legolas turned his gaze to his copper stallion in the meadow. "Arod deserves a rest, and not half so much as Asfaloth has earned. Let them be for an hour more."
"As you will," Glorfindel said, tying the saddle pack shut. "Do we go North from here?"
"I spoke with the others; they believe that is where the wolves have gone," Legolas said. The wolf groaned and shut her eyes, preparing to sleep. "May I ask how you plan to feed the wolf?"
"As cautiously as I am able," Glorfindel answered. "She is unable to open her mouth very wide, but it is not secured to the point she cannot open it at all; I cannot tell if I will have to loosen the rope."
Legolas turned his eyes away. "I trust your judgment on this, my friend...Against that which tells me to slay this wolf."
Glorfindel touched the rope. "I know, and I am grateful. My reasons are mixed, and those which are not obvious are perhaps more difficult for me to see than they are for you." He stretched back, leaning on the tree stump behind him. "Much of my life was spent following my instincts, Legolas. Far be it for me to change them now. My heart bids me spare this wolf for now, though like you, I desire to kill her. It is to be expected, I think, for we have both spent millennia fighting her kind and watching them take our friends' lives."
The prince spoke with all the conviction he possessed when he said, "As I have said, I will trust you, and I will stand by your decision regardless of who may oppose us."
"Thank you, Legolas. It means much to me," Glorfindel's voice was quiet, and slightly choked. There in the land of Rohan, the sun shone on the company, and on Glorfindel, the Captain of Gondolin, scarred forever by the torment of the Orcs.
Yet for the first time since his captivity, his posture showed no defeat, and the scars were somehow less horrific.
His milk-white eyes began again to shine with the brightness befitting of an Elf Lord.
********
"Beregond," Aragorn said as he entered, with the two children not far behind. "Come, I must speak with you. Tulian, Iryel," he turned to them, "Would you wait here?"
"Of course, Estel," Iryel said, taking her brother's hand, as if to ensure he wouldn't disobey.
Aragorn smiled at them, and then led Beregond into the next room. He closed the door behind them and turned.
"Estel, sire?" Beregond questioned.
"It was my name when I dwelt in Imladris," Aragorn explained. "But listen to me carefully. The children I have brought are orphans, as a result of the tragedy. Their caretaker thus far has been a woman whom they call 'Senia'; I believe she is from Laskan, though her accent is heavily influenced by that of Gancuron. This means one of two things: the first, that she truly has dwelt here long enough to acquire the accent. I doubt this one; she has been here frequently, but by all indications, has not lived here. I still am not sure. The second is that Vel has sent her, and she it was who told him the weaknesses and allies of Gancuron, or else was here so often on some errand I cannot guess." Aragorn sighed.
Beregond took this news in and nodded for the King to continue. "Beregond, the authority of King Elessar will not aid me in uncovering the truth; therefore, say not who I am, and do not hint that the King of Gondor is in Gancuron. When in the presence of others, do not look to me for orders, or at least, do not ask me directly for them. Only at great need will I speak up. This means that you must act as the one in charge. Tell this to the men, and be sure that they know the folly of revealing ourselves too soon."
"I understand, Elessar.... Aragorn." Beregond paused uncertainly. "Or would you rather we call you Estel?"
Aragorn considered a moment and nodded. "Yes. Call me Estel; it will give Senia less to suspect. Have you any questions before we dine?"
"No; but tell me if I understand aright. You wish us to act under my orders, and to call you Estel, if we are to do name you anything in public. We are all to keep our eyes open for a woman called Senia. The children are not to know you are the King, nor are they, or the people of Gancuron to know that the King is present."
"You understood correctly, Beregond. Grateful am I that you are one of Gondor's soldiers! I will go now to Iryel and Tulian. Come and get us when supper is ready for us." Aragorn opened the door, allowing Beregond to exit before him.
He crossed the room to the two children, who were exploring the beauty of the large house. Beregond walked away to the kitchen.
"What was that about, Estel?" Tulian asked.
Iryel stamped her foot in exasperation. Apparently, the two had discussed this during the absence of the men.. "No, Tulian! You don't ask soldiers what they do; they may kill you if they tell you."
Aragorn shook his head. "I would tell you naught that would get you killed. Supper will be served shortly." He held out a hand to each of them. "I will show you around while we yet have time. If you find a room you like, and it is unoccupied, tell me of it."
********
Arwen Undomiel sat alone in the grand libraries of Minas Tirith. She was not now searching for anything specific; she had begun a search on the white panther she and Legolas had seen in the forest. But when she found the only writings about it, she had gained no useful knowledge.
There had been but two recorded sightings of panthers before; both were golden with black rosettes. They were not as great a problem to kill as many other creatures. The difficulty, aside from finding one, was keeping track of it long enough to stop your arrows from going astray. Such a feat was so difficult that no panther yet had been hunted and killed in Middle-earth.
While she worked on a way to use what little they knew, Arwen read a scroll written about Celebrian, the daughter of Galadriel and Celeborn, and wife of Elrond. Greatly did Arwen miss her, and all the more when she saw the beautiful face of her mother etched in the parchment. At first the sight of Celebrian brought a heart wrenching pain to Arwen's fair face. But then her musings became invisible, her face smoothed out into passive thought.
Arwen knew well that Elrond longed to cross the Sea like his wife before him, and his parents long ago. So many other Elves desired this journey now more than ever, including Galadriel, and it seemed even Legolas, the prince of woods far removed from the Sea. When this enemy was dealt with, and it was safe to depart to the Sea, she knew that Elrond would go with little delay. There he would be reunited with Celebrian, whom Arwen would never look upon again.
Frodo Baggins the Ring Bearer would likely go with him, and Bilbo as well. The peace the two Hobbits would find there lifted Arwen's heart, knowing the pain that Frodo especially had endured.
Arwen slipped the papers back into their proper places, chastising herself bitterly. For such selfish reasons did she rejoice in the delay her kin were met with!
No, the feelings for which she rebuked herself were not to say that she could ever regret her choice to share Aragorn's doom. The briefest sight of Aragorn soothed away the biting sorrow when she thought of her parents, and she looked forward to the next moment she shared with him, and the one after that, and those stretching into the unknown eternity of mortal death.
Nothing would stop her from aiding her kin in whatever way she could.
Arwen sat down and spread a map of the known regions out before her. At this time, King Thranduil, her father, all of Gondor, and now Rohan were watching for the enemy. Perhaps when Aragorn returned, they would also have Laskan to aid them.
These were mainly Eastern and Southern lands, (if Laskan could be counted at all. It was too small to stand as an independent country, or so it seemed from times past when other countries had invaded). This was a handicap when one considered how far the pack might stretch.
The enemy had won over at least one town already, one that she and Glorfindel and Legolas had had the fortune of passing through...barely. If they were so easily bought, then surely they could be taken back again. With the many towns belonging to no particular province on their side, this fight would be far easier won.
Arwen rolled the map up again, placed it in its proper place, and half-ran out of the library.
"It darkens more easily now, yet the snows have not arrived." Vel shifted his weight from one foot to the other, which was always the surest sign of his distaste. "If it snows at all in these Vala forsaken lands."
"I have heard that it does," Sen offered.
Vel hardly tore his eyes from the purple horizon. "Let us pray that it does. I would be the last to undermine Gamphall's abilities to pass unnoticed, but realistically, he does not fare as well in darkness as he does in bright sunlight."
"I believe that, but it has survived eight winters already, and two were spent in snowless lands. It is Kirolksh...the moon willing, each night will be frigid and black as pitch. Gamphall can move easily in those conditions."
"It is hithui. Kirolksh is frigid and black. Hithui is nearly over, and still has yet to prove itself as an asset." Vel never failed to correct his men when they made a cultural mistake. By the same hand, in Laskan he never failed to correct visitor's mistakes.
It was a cloudy evening. The moon slowly rose, as the sun's final colors faded and died. An hour passed as the last crickets of the year called to one another; a week more, and the night would have no more insects to fill its suffocating emptiness.
The sun edged its way out from behind the clouds, and the plains were blanched ash gray. The trees stood apart, touched but unaffected by the light. And there, climbing over the hills not thirty yards away, they saw Gamphall, whiter than any snow Vel had ever seen.
It stopped when the moon revealed it, and dropped to its belly, hiding in the grasses. Sen narrowed his eyes, knowing where it was, but unable to see it clearly. When the moon hid her face again, the panther dashed ahead.
Sen backed away involuntarily, and didn't miss Vel's smirk as he did so. Gamphall stopped short in front of them, panting, and dropped what it carried.
Vel knelt down and examined it. "From...Gondor, it seems. A saddle bag." Keenly, he peered up at Sen. "I am glad I can't ask him how it was taken from the horse." The leather was torn in four places; the four hind claws. Inside was a slip of paper, written in the language of the Western lands, which Sen did not understand.
"They are hunting wolves." Vel shook his head. "This man must have been on the trail when Gamphall found him. I wonder...how did they know? Gamphall slew the man of Rohan on his own, I assume, and rightly so. Word of our wolves did not come from Rohan. How then does our guest know?"
"It does not make sense, Master." Sen replied gruffly. "But with respect, the wolves are not watched all that closely by some of our herdsmen. They are probably killing sheep and cattle, and that is what attracted the attention."
Vel stood up, dusting off as he did so. "Yes. I would like to believe that. My education in this alphabet was...limited, and I can't be sure...but something in here mentions Elves. Those that have been missing for sometime now were probably noticed. But how would Gondor know the Elves are associated with the wolves?"
Sen regarded Vel cautiously. He hated the assumption they both were making, but it fit the clues better than anything he could come up with. "Treason, Master. Someone must have told them."
"Precisely." Vel walked to the coach and pulled out a dark, filthy piece of cloth from a thin metal box. He held it over Gamphall's nose for perhaps thirty seconds, and stepped back, quickly sealing it back into the box.
This part of the training had been quite a bit more difficult. Over the distances Vel and his men covered, he hadn't even been certain it would work, being uncertain as to how strong a panther's tracking abilities were.
Vel had cloth, a scent, for each man he placed in charge. Gamphall had learned to associate each smell with each man, and thus would carry messages and packages to whomever Vel pleased.
Vel scribbled on the back of the Gondor paper, and gave it to the panther. It turned and headed for the treeline. "Do not think for a moment, Sen, that this treason goes without suffering. And that suffering will not be mine."
Author's Notes: It started to bug me. If this was canon, where would it fit in? Here's what I figured. Arwen married Aragorn. She went with the funeral procession (for Theoden). Then she returned with Elrond to Rivendell, getting there on September 21. On October 20, she goes with Glorfindel and Legolas. They get to Minas Tirith on November 3. This chapter is sometime in mid-to-late November.
Hithui means November (so does Kirolksh) And I really can't believe that's the only Elvish in this whole chapter!
In other news...an art bunny bit me a while back. Anyone interested in seeing two pencil drawings of Glorfindel and Asfaloth? One is the rough draft, and I never put a background to it, but my dad likes it better (you can see Glorfindel's face in that one.) If so, I'll scan them and put them up sometime. I'm thinking of doing one of Gamphall, too, because it's hard to mess up a coloring of a white leopard.
Magda, would you pretty please e-mail me? I tried to e-mail you, but it just wouldn't work! (If the address in my profile isn't working, then hopefully cannibalmnm@yahoo.com will.)