Disclaimer: I still don't own 'em.
That evening, as they rest in a small, forested area, Aragorn insisted they post a watch. "What if that crazy elf comes after us with his 'pack', wanting revenge for the capture of his 'packmate'?"
"He's an elf," Legolas protested. "I do not think he would be so petty."
"Don't be too sure. And will you stop defending him because of his race? If he were a man—"
"If he were a man, things would be different. But you are right. I will take the first watch. Now go to sleep."
Aragorn lay down grumpily, muttered darkly about elves and their arrogance. Legolas leaned back to watch the stars.
In the distance, a wolf howled. Legolas wondered if it was a warg or a White Wolf, and if Sadron had been telling the truth about them—everything about them, from their choice of sides in the great war in their acceptance of the strange elf into their pack.
A second howl joined the first, then another, and another, and another. A pack of five. Either five definite foes or five possible friends. The White Wolves of Aldyrion...could it be that Sadron had actually told the truth?
Another set of howls, fiercer, darker, and crueler, floated across the still air. A shiver ran down the listening elf's spine. These were the wargs, he knew. There must be a pack of them near here.
The White Wolves stopped howling, but the wargs continued theirs. The sound came from the same direction of the Aldyrion wolves, but farther away.
The warg-howls grew louder, closer. Legolas glanced at Aragorn. The ranger was crouched next to the fire, sword in one hand, a burning brand from the fire in the other. "Do you think they're coming this way?" he whispered.
"I do not know." Legolas set an arrow to the string of his bow.
When the cried continued to increase in volume and intensity, Aragorn cursed and scooped up his coat, which he'd been using as a pillow. Legolas hurriedly put out the fire.
"Which way do we go?" Aragorn asked, his face eerily lit by the light of the single torch he still held.
Legolas opened his mouth to reply, but before he could speak, Sadron and the White Wolves of Aldyrion burst into the clearing.
Sadron and his pack pulled up short. "Run," he choked out. "They're coming."
"Wha—" Aragorn started, but Legolas grabbed him and took off as Sadron and the wolves ran past them.
"What are they chasing?" the human asked Sadron as they pounded through the forest.
"Us," the elf said shortly. "Save your breath, human, and run."
Why, Aragorn wondered, do I always end up running for my life from someone else's enemies? And why am I now running with someone I don't even know, but what little I do know, I dislike and distrust? My life is so strange.
They broke out of the forest, Snowfire and the other wolves leading the way. Aragorn tried to look back and stumbled. Legolas caught him and pulled him up, not slowing.
The wargs poured out of the forest, at least twenty of them—more than any natural wolf pack. They yipped and howled, delighting in the chase and anticipation of the kill.
All seven were running full out now. The breath came hard in their throats. The wargs, sensing that the end was near, picked up the pace. Their prey struggled up a hill and almost stopped when they saw what was before them. One warg drew ahead of the pack and lunged for Sadron. The elf whipped his spear around; holding it out straight and letting the animal impale itself on it. "Come on!" he called to his companions. "Keep running!"
Less than a quarter mile away, the rolling land dropped away sharply into a steep cliff. They wouldn't be able to make their way around it before the wargs caught them.
Sadron could see the glimmer of starlight on water beyond the cliff's edge. "Jump it!" he ordered.
"What?" Aragorn gasped.
"There's no chance of survival against so many wargs! This way, we have a faint chance! There's nothing for it; just go!"
"Dear Elbereth!" Legolas managed. "This is insane!"
"You wanted—an adventure," Aragorn panted.
"This is not what I had in mind."
The cliff was coming up before them. As they leapt over the edge, Aragorn tripped. He would have fallen to his death against the rocky wall had Sadron not grabbed the back of his coat and dragged him out over the lake with him. He reached down and drew the ranger's sword as they fell, tossing it and his spear away.
The wargs howled in disappointment, the White Wolves howled in fear, and Sadron, Aragorn, and Legolas screamed in terror.
Gotta love the cliffhangers! I'll post quicker if you review!
Elvish Glossary:
avo garo: don't do it
avon: I won't
a gellam: oh joy
mae govannen: well met
Meril: "Rose"
nin mellon: my friend
meleth: love
mûl: slave
Sadron: "Faithful one"
suilad: greetings
Talagan: "Harper"
raug: demon
Rhovan: "Wild"