Disclaimer: I own none of the characters within.
Author's Notes: IMPORTANT! This is a long chapter. (waits for the cheers to stop) However, the next chapter won't be up for about a week. I'm going on vacation, and we have to drive there, and then we have to settle in. But we got a laptop, and all's well. So hang in there, and give lots of reviews! :D
Chapter Six
~
Galadriel sat upright, her fine ears sweeping back and forth and her delicate muzzle pointed towards the wind. She smelled… sorrow. Sorrow and pain.
And in less than an hour the weary Pack of the Quest straggled into her line of vision.
She had heard of this group, receiving the news from a very bewildered-sounding Glorfindel, who had followed and watched the forming of the Pack of the Quest from a distance. He had told her that Gandalf flew with them, but she did not see the eagle.
Trotting towards the group, a calm Celeborn to her right and a bristling Haldir on her left, she looked at them carefully.
She knew the alpha and the other Numenor male. They were of Gondorian descent. The four little ones she did not recognize. The last wolf…
Legolas sprang from his pack and raced towards his kin, rubbing his body against Galadriel and Celeborn, telling them in soft whimpers of the loss of his father. The Lorien alpha male hung his head; Thranduil had been a mighty leader, and to have been struck down by famine was a terrible loss.
Galadriel stepped closer to the group, whimpered softly and asked for Gandalf, as she had not seen the spirit of the tundra in too long. But the other wolves stared mournfully back at her, and the little blue-eyed one began to howl softly, a quavering, heart-rending sound.
So Gandalf was lost. And this Pack of the Quest teetered on disaster.
Suddenly Haldir leapt forward, his hackles raised and teeth bared. He did not trust this motley group, and had long detested Boromir in the first place. Walking closer on stiff legs, signaling anger and distrust, he snarled loudly at the opposite pack.
Barking her displeasure, Galadriel nipped him hard on the neck, giving Aragorn pause to raise his furry eyebrows. Haldir flattened himself to the ground, humbled. Nipping on the back of the neck was a gesture used only with particularly misbehaving pups. The beta of the Lorien pack was shamed.
Ears and tail lowered in friendship, Galadriel nuzzled Aragorn and invited he and his pack into the safety of Lorien territory.
~
Sitting on her 'throne', a fine green hill, Galadriel reflected on this ragtag bunch before her. Celeborn rumbled softly at her feet, giving her the position of alpha for the time being. She was wiser in such matters. For only she sensed it…
Of the Lorien wolves, Galadriel alone realized that this Quest was their only hope. She had seen the signs and heard the warnings; the Great Hunter was not out for blood. He was out to destroy, to annihilate. And only His own death would stop him.
Long ago the wolves had risen against him, and they had failed. Now, his danger had fallen on a new generation, and this generation would defeat it.
And so she let them reside on her land, refreshing their strength for the weary journey that lie ahead for many more miles.
~
It was with deep regret that the Pack of the Quest left the land of Lorien. Although Haldir had been rather nasty, Celeborn had kept him under control. And any suffering was worth the beauty and gentleness of Galadriel.
She had treated all of the pack members with nothing but kindness, even allowing them to hunt with her, a great honor for strangers visiting a different territory.
The Pack journeyed Southward, for from that direction Aragorn planned to lead them up into Mordor. They traveled in the no-wolf zone that ran between the borders of Gondor territory and the land of the Rohan wolves, a path that took them directly South. Soon, they would go past any wolf boundaries and into the Wild Land, a place where no packs dwelled and no wolf had ever gone.
It was when they were over halfway through when disaster struck.
~
It was the age of the Great Hunter.
Hundreds of Orcs had ruptured forth from their lairs in Moria, forming crude packs and planning to pillage the land. They streamed out across the tundra, mouths agape and searching for food.
This particular pack had cut though the middle-Southern portion of Gondor territory, Denethor and Faramir hardly aware of their presence. The Orcs had trekked on, stumbling into the no-wolf's land in a tragic coincidence, as they collided with the Pack of the Quest head-on.
Aragorn rose on his hind legs and dove into the fray, fangs flashing with fury. Behind him came Legolas, a stormcloud of claws and teeth. The Orcs were numerous; the Pack was split in three by their merciless attack.
Sam seized Frodo in his teeth and fled into Gondor territory, pouring any and all speed he possessed into protecting the beloved pup.
Aragorn and Legolas continued to fight madly against their foe, killing many but finding no escape.
And Boromir took his last stand, fur shining with his own blood as he fought to save Merry and Pippin. Merry, for his small part, was trying to fight and failing. The filthy jaws of an Orc seized him by the scruff, and Pippin soon was captured also.
Wounded beyond hope, the mighty wolf Boromir sank to the ground, defeated and howling in agony as his companions were dragged away to be consumed elsewhere.
~
When all the Orcs were slain, Aragorn and Legolas raced to the source of the pained cries. But they were too late, and Boromir's large head slipped to the ground, as he died, his powerful spirit leaving the broken body to fly across the tundra.
Aragorn and Legolas' grief was terrible to behold. Their mourning song was more reminiscent of human screams, their voices rising and falling like the dying wind. They paced about the bloodied area, nuzzling their fallen companion and wailing for their lost. For they believed that the Hobbit wolves also had been slain, and their bodies dragged off to be eaten.
~
It was miraculously seven hours later when Sam slowed his frantic pace; having been driven by a need he did not understand but obeyed without question. Setting down his burden, he watched as the exhausted pup fell asleep instantly.
Looking about, Sam realized they were in the Southern end of Moria. So this was what it came down to. He realized he could not turn back now; the stakes had been raised to the ultimate height, and it was do…
Or die.
~ To Be Continued
