Legolas immediately forgot his song as he looked at Wolf. Wolf, however, kept singing for a moment or two before he realized that the other had left off.
"How…how do you know that song?" Legolas asked once the elder elf fell silent.
Wolf looked ashamed at having sung out loud. But Legolas' gaze was eager, friendly, and full of wonder. Slowly, by degrees, Wolf found himself compelled to answer.
"I just know it," he said at length, testing to see if the prince would become angry. When it was clear that he was not, Wolf continued. "I think I have always known it. It was one of the few things that kept me going and comforted me all those long years."
"What was it that happened to you?" prodded Legolas, testing his luck to see how much information he could get out of Wolf.
"You ask for me to bring up painful memories, my lord," he replied, but Legolas waved off the last of his sentence.
"Let us drop the formalities," he said.
"As you wish, my…" Wolf said, before catching himself.
"Please, if you can tell your tale, no matter how sad, I must hear it, for perhaps I can find some good in it and restore you to what family you may have."
Wolf took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh, eyes closed. Slowly, he reopened them and began his tale.
"Much of my childhood is but a blank in my mind," he said, his voice hovering just above a whisper. "I remember only one incident clearly, before life became a harsh experience of imprisonment. I was maybe five or six at the time, still very young. My mother and I were out in the woods with some others, enjoying the day. Suddenly a shout went up from some one among them. We were under attack, though I did not understand it at the time. Arrows rained down on us. I saw my mother fall, though I can no longer recall what she looked like, for such harsh treatment was in store for me. An arrow had pierced her chest. I tried to hide but was found by the monsters who for some reason which I still do not understand, did not kill me, but took me off to their lair in the mountains. There my imprisonment began. Years passed and I lived under the earth in the dark, forgotten places of the world. There I was broken, my name taken away. 'Wolf' they called me and that became my identity. I forgot the world that I had left behind and forced out what memories lingered, save for one image that stayed no matter how hard I tried to forget."
"What?" asked Legolas.
"A giant spider was dragging my mother away, though I could hardly recognize her from the clots of blood and gore that covered her, for she had been hacked away at, dead as she was, by the monsters who took me."
Legolas' breath caught in his throat, but reasoned to himself that now at least one riddle had an answer. Wolf was indeed a Mirkwood elf, for no other realm had trouble with the spiders. The other monsters, Legolas reasoned, sounded like they were orcs. But now Wolf continued.
"The monsters taught me fear and the concept of master and servant. I was the servant and if ever I failed to please, they would hack and tear at my body with crude weapons until I could scarcely move for the pain. In this manner the years passed, unnoticed and uncounted by me, until one day when I was brought from the mountains. In the dead of night I was brought to meet another, this one a man. His smile was wicked and I could right away tell that although I already endured much hardship, that worse days were ahead for me. Many days and nights we traveled until at last we reached the gates of Minas Tirith, the city in which I was to live in for the reminder of my days, until, that is, King Aragorn brought me here. The evil man turned me over to the Steward, who became my new master. But my days of toil were not yet over. The work was grueling and the punishments much worse, if ever a time came when I did not perform up to what was expected of me. The other servants under the rule of the Steward abused me too and took their pleasure upon my body at nights whenever they could. Many a night, once the others had fallen asleep, I wished for death to take me."
"Did you ever attempt to escape?" Legolas could not help but ask the question that burned in his mind.
"Once from the monsters, yes," Wolf replied. "For my troubles they burnt my flesh. I still carry the scar upon my back I believe," and as he spoke, he began to undo the buttons that bound his shirt to him. "There was no hope to escape the service of the Stewards. Guards were posted inside and outside our sleeping quarters and while we were working, there were always eyes on us as we went about our tasks. Things became even worse after Denethor took his father's place as Steward and as it came closer to the time of the war. Only his sons showed the servants kindness. Boromir once even offered to take my place in a beating I was to receive, for Denethor's horse, who was in my care, became ill and died."
"Did he beat Boromir?" asked Legolas, suddenly thinking with fondness upon the departed Fellowship member.
Wolf shook his head as he pulled off the shirt to show Legolas his wounds. "No. I was still beaten. But then he went and continued to beat Faramir as well, for the younger son had refused to be the one to abuse me. Now I have told you my tale in full. You may look upon my wounds and see that I have not deceived you in any word."
Wolf turned so that Legolas could inspect the series of scars that ran over the whole of his back. Such disfigurement the prince had never seen and he suppressed a horrified gasp. Every inch of Wolf's back held the trace of what had been once fresh wounds. The older ones were the faintest of the ones that he carried, while others were newer, the sight of them impossible to avoid.
And then Legolas' gaze came to rest on the burn wound that Wolf had spoken of. It was on the small of his lower back, still red and upraised after all of the years that had passed. But that was not what caused him to focus on it so intently.
"Where did the orcs get the metal by which to burn you?"
"It was a token that I had around my neck. They had taken it from me when I first was abducted and for some reason, they kept it and used it to burn me. Granted, I was still quite young when this occurred, so perhaps it had only been laziness on their part that saw it kept. I do not know."
"Let us be thankful that they did keep it," said Legolas. "I think it may help us figure out your true identity, though we must speak to my father in the morning. Take some rest in the meantime."
"And you?" asked Wolf as Legolas headed to the door.
"There are far too many things which press on my mind now," Legolas answered. "But do not worry about me. I am only going to get a cup of tea in the kitchen and shall return shortly afterwards."