Chapter 5

Celebnar

Dipping his hands back into the river water, he let the soft flowing of the eddies catch onto the coarse cloth and remove the sweat and dirt. After a moment, he swished it around and wrung it out before again working his way back into the thick hair of his horse.

Don't move, just breathe for now. Just breathe… Legolas whispered to the great animal as he worked. The area they had entered was in the middle of the rainy season, and the grounds had been unmerciful to their horses. Loyal though they were, the three elves knew they couldn't push them forever through the dank forest. At the first chance, they made a stop in a thicket of trees near the base of the wide stretch of mountains.

It was quiet. The trees around them glistened with their hold on the dew that had not yet been taken by the heat of the sun, and the ground soft and springy underfoot with the fallen branches and leaves.

Elladan and Elrohir were working close by, patiently working the tangles out of the manes and tails of their own animals. No conversation was being passed about, and all worked in comfortable silence.

Elrohir had been working on a particularly large tangle in his stallion's tail with gentle fingers when something tickled the back of his mind, disturbing him enough to stop for a moment and look around. Legolas glanced at the twin and raised an eyebrow.

"Elrohir, what do you hear?" Elladan had stopped working as well, watching at his brother.

Elrohir looked about him nervously. He didn't know what he had felt, but as he rested one hand on his horse's side, the stallion was tense and his ears cocked, twitching this way and that. A shiver ran inexplicably down his spine. Taking two steps toward the tree where he had left his own pack, Elrohir lifted his bow and slung his quiver over his shoulder.

"Something comes." He whispered, reaching behind him and pulling a long arrow from the quiver, notching it as fast as he could.

The others did not question his statement. Both Elladan and Legolas were armed and ready in moments, and all three of them listened carefully. Elrohir kept one eye trained on the forest and the other on his stallion. The horse was now looking around, trying to detect something, some noise that was barely detectable. In a heartbeat though, the stallion finally managed to discover what was sparking his interest and looked across the small mountain river, nickering softly as he eyed the bushes with a wide, open gaze.

"The trees across the river!" Elrohir hissed to the others as he stood next to a tree and aimed slowly, listening. He could hear it now, they all could.

Padded feet where making their way swiftly for where they stood waiting. They were coming in so close. Claws scraped against rocks, hot breath was huffing from slightly strained lungs, accompanied by an occasional whine... and two large dogs burst out of the bushes, scampering swiftly toward the river a few strides before stopping entirely. Elrohir slowly lowered his bow a few inches.

"Tigerwolves," he whispered.

The breed and the build of their muscular bodies was rare but familiar to the elf. These animals where not unlike the dogs they used for hunting deer, back in the forests they all called home, yet they were still very different. Knotty muscles rippled and jerked under tough hides, wary eyes locked on the elves hidden just beyond the trees across the small river. Both tigerwolves had dark fur; so brown it flicked black in the light, their bodies so large they roughly equaled the size of the elves themselves. But what made them dangerous was their killing nature the bloodlust. It was the reason they were almost forgotten and bred now only to hunt and kill; an assassin's best friend.

Whimpering for a few moments, they both twisted and turned around each other as if they were confused about what to do next. Then one of them, the larger beast of the two with one white paw came to the river's edge and let out a long, mournful howl. The other unmarked one came to his side and added his voice to that of his companion, mingling their voices, the sounds so eerie and fearful. It chilled the hearts of the elves, and they knew.

They were being followed.

"Quickly! We must leave!" Elrohir snatched up his pack and ran for his stallion's side, trying to calm the animal as he shied away from the dogs. Ilúvatar forbid the twins or Legolas would back away from a fight, but no way where they going to delay more than they had to. Elladan followed, throwing his pack back together and again strapping it around his shoulders before leaping onto the back of his own horse.

Legolas was slower. His bow remained tense and ready in his waiting fingers, but he knew this was far from over. Just beyond the dark shadows of the trees he could see a moving shape. It was large and irregularly shaped, but if he had not seen it before he would have run from the sight. Someone on horseback was headed for them, and since he was using dogs hardly bred anymore because of the dangerous nature the breed possessed, it was not someone they wanted to stick around to meet.

A strangled cry emitted from the branches of the trees and for a moment it froze Legolas where he stood. The tigerwolves ceased their howling and looked back toward the trees they had just appeared from, as though they were waiting for further instruction. The cry had sounded vaguely like a woman screaming, but something didn't sound quite right...

"Legolas!" he could see something small now, hurtling through the trees ahead of the dark rider. The color and detail of both beings that he could see still escaped him; they blended far too well in the forest they were in.

Both the twins were on their horses, armed and ready to flee. Elladan was trying hard to calm his horse, the stallion trying repeatedly to shy away from the large dogs that filled his heart with fear. Elrohir just sat on his horse as it too twisted around a little, but the animal too remained tense and waiting.

Another cry came from the trees from the same voice, but now it sounded low and chilling. The tigerwolves, who where listening intently, looked back across the river and bared their teeth. With a growling snap of their jaws, they leapt forward as one and began to cross the river swiftly.

Valar take it all, what are they doing?

Legolas jumped from his hiding spot and ran for his mount. The mare shied away from the sound of the dogs crossing the river, making it nigh impossible for Legolas to mount up. He barely managed to swing one leg over the mare's back before the large dogs reached the shore. They were out of time.

"Silme!" Legolas yelled out his mare's name, but the horse was beyond listening. One of the dogs was running straight for her, and Legolas could do nothing but hold on as she began to rear and plunge with her front legs, twisting around in odd circles to stay away from the dog just below her belly.

The dog evaded her easily, getting under her and snapping loudly, scaring Silme out of her wits. She plunged and bucked, never keeping more than two feet on the ground, desperate to not let the tiger-wolf have a clean shot at her legs but finding no place to run away from him.

The other tigerwolf had headed right for where the twins were, but instead of attacking like his companion, he snapped viciously at Elladan's horse and backed up. He growled loudly, showing off yellow teeth and large dark eyes. Body taunt and ready, he settled low to the ground, waited for a brief moment, and leapt straight into the air, right at Elladan. The tigerwolf rammed into the elf, knocking him off his horse as the animal neighed loudly in fear, and both of them crashed to the ground.

It did not happen unnoticed. A shocked cry came from next to where Elladan had been only a moment before, the elf's now riderless horse escaping the battle that had begun on the ground. Again reinserting the arrow into his bow, Elrohir tried to aim. "Elladan!"

Elladan hit the ground hard and the air in his lungs rushed between his teeth. Almost defenseless and unable to move for a brief moment, the tiger-wolf saw it and jumped on top of the elf's body, attacking his stunned prey.

It had been so fast and unreal that it took Elrohir a moment to register what had happened. But now it was too late to try and shoot the dog. He could hit Elladan instead. His twin had recovered quickly, but not quickly enough. Both elf and beast where locked in a violent struggle. Roars and yelps emitted from the ground as they both fought to gain control over the other. Elladan was holding to his own quite well for being caught off guard, fast and strong, but the tigerwolf was too and equally relentless, working the elf cruelly with his teeth and claws. Elladan had no such assets; only his bare hands served him now. With hardly bridled rage he tried to pin the tiger-wolf to the ground and keep the beast's foul mouth away from his face.

Legolas and Silme were not faring much better. The tigerwolf that had them cornered had much different tactics than his companion and was keeping them busy. Wild fear made adrenaline course through the mare's body. Filled with terror but determination, Silme began to pummel the ground with her sharp front hooves, trying to catch the tigerwolf with her own deadly weapons. Slamming down hard to the earth Silme made the dirt rise as she tried to stop her opponent.

The tigerwolf was quick, but not quick enough. In moments Silme managed to trap the large dog and mercilessly attack the only way she knew how. In a few well-aimed hits the tigerhound collapsed to the ground, his ribcage shattered. Knowing her enemy was momentarily disarmed, she caught him in her teeth by the scruff of his neck and shook him like a rag doll. The huge animal was dead almost instantly.

Silme calmed a little, but her eyes were still wide, almost completely white. She was as tense as Elrohir's bowstring and when Legolas saw Elladan's predicament his own body matched that of the mare's. Silme couldn't keep all four feet on the ground, prancing and twisting in place.

The last tigerwolf was fighting well, having the advantage his mate had not on the ground. He finally caught a piece of Elladan's left arm and his teeth dug into the soft, virtually unprotected forearm right below the elbow. Elladan let out a small breath of pain and punched the dog hard on the side of the head. The tigerwolf snarled but didn't let go. Rather, he ground down deeper.

"Elrohir! What do we do!" Legolas was watching helplessly as he tried to keep his mare under control, the chore was requiring all of his combined attention.

"I don't know! They are moving far too quickly. If I try to shoot, I could hit Elladan."

Both the elves tried desperately to think of something they could do to get Elladan out of his predicament. A strangled sound came from Elladan's throat. In desperation he rolled over on top of the tigerwolf and tried to trap the dog down with his own weight. It worked, if for only a moment.

The tigerwolf took no pleasure in being pinned. He let go of Elladan's arm unexpectedly and with his front claws digging into the elf's chest his teeth again found flesh, deep in the elder twin's left shoulder. Elladan let out another frustrated cry.

The tigerwolf ripped though the skin and tasted blood. It was in his very nature, his breeding that made him so valuable to his trainer. The bloodlust he had tasted it, and now wanted more.

A sharp whistle sounded from the opposite side of the river.

The tigerwolf stopped and his eyes traveled back to the opposite riverside, still hunched over the tense form of his prey. Elladan ceased to move.

The rider had finally come. He sat quietly on the back of his stallion, watching the battle with interest. He was dressed in dark clothing that helped him blend into the shadows of the forest, his head covered in a hood. On his arm that was protected with leather perched a large bird a falcon. At a small whispered command to the falcon, the bird turned its head toward the tigerwolf and screeched.

Ah, Legolas thought. So that is what I heard earlier. The tigerwolf growled loudly and even howled a moment through his mouthful, obviously not liking what the falcon was telling him to do. But at another warning call from the bird, the tigerwolf got off of Elladan, and baring his teeth, backed away toward the river and his master. Very obedient animal.

"Legolas."

Legolas turned his attention to the fallen form of the twin on the ground. Elladan looked up at him fiercely, clutching his injured arm to him as he sat up. "Run."

"What?"

"Run! Get out of here. Someone must keep going. Please, keep looking for what we seek, but leave this to me and Elrohir." The twin's voice held a slightly pained edge but remained dead serious.

Legolas hesitated, one eye on the twin and the other on the tiger-wolf. Both were watching him closely.

"Run!" the whispered command was no longer ignored.

Legolas turned Silme around and dug his heels into her ribs. She leapt forward and bolted for the trees. Another sharp whistle sounded from behind him, from the falcon. He glanced back.

The falcon had left his master and was flying toward him, screeching wildly. The tigerwolf snapped his large jaws and he too bolted forward, following swiftly. If the past few moments were evidence to anything, the falcon had just told the tigerwolf to run him down.

"RUN!" Elladan was halfway to his feet, yelling at Legolas again. Elrohir nudged his horse forward quickly, ready to aid his brother.

Elladan ignored his twin and dove for the escaping tigerwolf. He landed right on top of the lithe body, wrapping his arms around the broad shoulders and making the animal fall to the ground; snapping evilly.

Oh no, Elladan thought fiercely as he again pinned the tigerwolf. You aren't going anywhere! He struggled with the large dog for a few moments until he could find a moment to grab the knife he had been unable to get to earlier. Pulling the knife from the interior of one soft boot he drove the blade deep into the flesh of the tigerwolf's neck. The animal howled in pain and began to struggle to get away. The wound was not fatal, but it took the fight out of the tigerwolf.

Legolas turned around and kicked Silme hard. Yes, he would run, if not willingly, but at the request of one he knew could handle himself. Someone had to make it out.

Injured now and quite angry, Elladan let the animal run from him after a well-earned shove of the knife. The tigerwolf limped away from the elf, almost blindly, shaking his head and neck and whimpering angrily.

Elladan stood and walked slowly toward his brother. Placing one hand on Elrohir's stallion's neck, he inhaled deeply and steeled himself for another fight. Keeping one eye on the being across the small river he waited, ignoring the feel of blood dripping fast down his arm.

000000000000000000

"SKKRRREEEEEEE!"

"Valar, he's seen us!" Legolas hissed to himself. He had been riding for the better part of an hour, urging Silme to run her fastest. His heart was torn at leaving the twins behind and he was desperately worried about them, but he had to trust to hope and the sincerity in the elder twin's eyes. He knew they would be all right.

But right now he wasn't so sure about himself.

Bloody bird, Legolas hissed mentally in the direction of the light sound of wings some distance behind him. What I wouldn't give to break his neck! He'll lead his master right to us!

Legolas had thought he'd lost the bird a while ago, but the falcon had found him again.

Silme slipped a little on the water-softened rocks below her feet and fell back a pace. Trying to regain her footing, she jumped blindly forward to the bank of the dried up stream. The landing was rough and the mud underfoot was slick. Silme barely managed to keep her legs straight. She made a dead stop.

"Skkrreee!"

"Enough of this madness." Legolas swiftly slid off his mare's back and landed on the dry streambed below. He had no desire to kill the bird, it was completely against his nature to harm them, but something had to be done. Choosing a large rock of adequate size and weight, he waited patiently until the falcon came into view before firing the rock into the air. A direct hit! The falcon screeched again in surprised pain and fell like a rock to the ground.

Problem solved.

Or was it?

Legolas watched the falcon where it had fallen, a distance of only about thirty feet away. At first he thought it might be dead, but then the falcon's head came up slowly and it fluffed around, one wing unfolded and lifeless at its side. Black beady eyes searched this way and that until it fell to the form of the prince standing in the trees, chirping painfully.

The rage ebbed away from Legolas' spirit and the gentle heart returned. The prince loved birds, he had grown up listening to them sing in the forests of his home. He had no real desire to hurt or even kill this one, only to keep it from returning to its master. Was it really the falcon's fault that he was trained like he was? In the falcon's eyes, he had just been disarmed and injured for doing what he was supposed to do, what he thought was right.

Legolas left Silme in the trees and silently walked up the falcon. The black eyes watched the prince's every move, regarding him without sound. When the elf was about five feet away, the falcon cawed softly in warning. He was injured and in no mood to be nice about it.

Legolas sighed. "What am I going to do with you? I can't leave you here, not to be found by your master. You'll lead him right to me. But I don't want to kill you, I'll feel guilty. Not much, mind you," he said warningly as the falcon snapped at him. "But enough."

The falcon seemed to understand the statement and stopped. He was certainly a sorry sight. His left wing and the feathers on one side where rumpled and messy. It hurt him to even try to stand up, and his entire body lay lopsided to keep the hurting wing still. Strapped to both feet where a set of leather straps, training straps, if Legolas knew anything about falcons. Writing had been pressed into the side of one, but Legolas couldn't read it, it was halfway hidden by the falcon's body.

The falcon really was quite fine looking, a dark colored head, back, and wings with a white breast dotted with spots. The sides of his cheeks where flecked with white, and his tail and wing feathers and tints of green, gold, and even dark blue in them. The sunlight was making the falcon flicker with color.

Legolas wasn't sure what to do. He had to keep moving, but he couldn't leave the bird defenseless for some carnivore with an appetite. The only alternative to that was to take the falcon with him.

"I think we could strike up a deal, you and I," Legolas told the falcon. "I'll take you with me if you promise to stay with me. Perhaps in time I will set you free, far from here."

Of course, if the falcon did try anything Legolas would not hesitate in breaking its feathery neck.

The falcon just stared at him. Legolas began to feel a bit foolish, talking to the bird like it was a person, but something told him it didn't matter. The falcon knew what he said, and it understood. It shifted slightly in Legolas' direction, puffing slightly in pain as it moved its injured wing.

But when Legolas tiptoed forward and extended his hand toward the bird, the falcon reared back and cawed at the elf loudly, hissing and spitting. The feathers on his head stood straight up.

Legolas rolled his eyes. He knew what had to be done, and because of his decision he now had virtually no choice in the matter. He left the falcon and returned to Silme's side, untying his blanket from her back. Returning to the angry bird, he threw the blanket over the bird's head and carefully scooped up the struggling bundle.

He couldn't kill the bird, but he couldn't leave him behind either, so against all sane odds Legolas decided that he and the falcon would travel together. He carefully unwrapped the blanket until the falcon's head was poking through the top, and then folded the fabric carefully so the bird couldn't move and further injure his wing. Legolas would take care of that later, when darkness had fallen and when the falcon would let him. Placing the bundle neatly and securely behind his head, between his neck and the quiver strapped to his back. The falcon struggled for a few moments, but soon gave up. His wing was numb and there was no way for him to defend himself now, so he let Legolas take him away.

The prince again mounted his horse, careful of the fragile package on his shoulders and nudged Silme into a run. He didn't know if he was still being followed, but he wasn't going to stick around to find out who would find the loose feathers on the ground.

A few hours later Legolas found a small ravine cut into the side of the mountains and decided to stop there for the night. Silme was weary enough as it was from the fight with the tiger-wolf earlier that day and the consistent travel; the prince was unwilling to push her further. After he had taken care of her and let her loose for the night, he again turned his attention to the falcon.

The falcon had hardly moved since Legolas had set him down, still wrapped in the prince's blanket, and taken care of his mare. He watched quietly as Legolas gathered a bundle of wood and kindling, lighting a small fire to light the swiftly coming darkness. But as soon as Legolas again turned his attention to the bird again, the falcon's beak opened wide and hissed at the elf's approaching fingers.

"Take it easy, I'm only trying to help you," Legolas reached forward and pulled at the blanket, unraveling the falcon's prison. The bird flopped to the ground, trying to hug his smarting wing to his own body. Chirping softly, the falcon nudged his wing and tried to fix the ruffled feathers.

Legolas opened his pack and pulled out some of the venison he had brought with him. Tearing a large piece into falcon-sized bites, he set the venison on his blanket in front of the bird. At first, the falcon eyed the pieces of meat suspiciously, as though he expected them to be poisoned. He twisted his head and looked at them from different angles. Apparently he found nothing wrong with them, and soon he stretched his head forward and snatched a piece of the dried meat. He chirped again, this time a bit happier.

Legolas again searched through his pack, coming up with a pair of leather gloves. There was no way the falcon would let him tend to the wing without biting him, and the elf had no doubt that the ornery little screecher would draw blood without even trying. The prince let the falcon finish eating his share of food before trying.

Just as the falcon was finishing the last few, Legolas noticed the leather straps again, still bound around the bird's feet. One of them did indeed have something written on it, a name stamped into the tough leather. Legolas slowly reached forward and twisted the leather toward the fire to better read it. The falcon didn't react, now accustomed to the quiet elf and did not object.

The leather was worn and scratched, but the name imprinted there was in no way hard to read. Written in an elvish script, it said simply, 'Celebnar.'

"Celebnar?" the falcon looked up and regarded the elf seriously, almost expectantly. Legolas stared back. "Is that your name?"

The falcon chirped.

"You are called Celebnar? Not your master?"

The falcon chirped again.

Legolas was slightly impressed. "You understand me?"

The falcon chirped twice, as if to say 'Yes I can, I just told you twice!' The look in the dark eyes that accompanied the non-verbal statement was so absurd that Legolas burst out laughing.

"All right! I understand now. You must have been raised among my people. Well then, I'm glad I know your name at least. Hello Celebnar."

Celebnar chirped happily, obviously glad to hear something familiar again. The bird stared at Legolas for a moment, trying to gauge if the elf was trustworthy. Fate seemed to have placed them together, an unlikely pair. The pain in his wing was increasing and Celebnar was over the edge to really think it through. Carefully he limped over closer to the elf. The falcon fixed his eyes hopefully on Legolas, his plea not lost.

"You want me to help you?" the prince hadn't been expecting the ornery little biter to be the first to ask for help.

Celebnar chirped as Legolas lifted him off the ground and settled the falcon on his lap. A few minutes passed as Legolas worked to understand the bird's injury, comparing one wing to the other and quickly determining the problem. Celebnar had nothing more than a bruised joint and a few strained tendons. If he avoided flying for a few days, he would heal faster. Legolas tore a small length of fabric from his own blanket and gently but firmly bound the falcon's wing to his side so that it lay comfortably in place.

Celebnar had remained surprisingly quiet throughout the whole examination, but by the time Legolas was finished the falcon had bitten right through the elf's tough leather gloves to restrain himself from biting the elf's fingers.

It was a lesson he had been taught well.

Legolas patted the falcon's head softly. "I'm sorry Celebnar, I know that didn't feel too great. If you'll stay off that wing for two or three days you should be flying again. It's not that bad at all."

Leaving Celebnar where he sat by the fire, Legolas began to gather some padding from the forest floor. The trees around this area were completely inadequate for taking protection within the thin, brittle branches. They never would have held up even his light weight. Once he had gathered enough debris from the forest floor it was spread near the fire, and his thick blanket was laid over it. Legolas lay down on his back, listening to the cackle of the fire and allowed himself to be lost in the starlit sky.

A few moments later Legolas was pulled away from the stars at the sound of rustling nearby.

Celebnar was creeping toward him, a very confused look in his dark eyes. There was something different about this elf that had knocked him out of the sky earlier, something he was not familiar with. His real master had never been downright cruel to him, but firm and taught with a hard hand. Celebnar was loyal to his master, fiercely so, but the bond was built on fear and not trust. It was curious and strange to his young mind that he should encounter someone very much like his master and yet entirely different.

This elf did not force him to do anything; not to hunt, not to fly. He refused to let him open his wing, had given him food, and went to the lengths of building a fire even though the night was not cold and did not need the light nor warmth for himself - without making the falcon earn the right first. Perhaps it was his injury that was making him less defensive, but this elf, this strange elf, had shown him more kindness in one day than he had ever seen his entire life and Celebnar responded to that.

Before now he would have had to catch his own food, suffer in silence if he was injured, and rarely ever saw a fire. He was protected from enemies but not often from the elements, and never before had he been allowed to sleep close to his master. His night protection was either the trees or the black horse, but near an immortal's side was unheard of. The falcon was well accustomed to fend for himself to exist solely for himself under the service of another. The fact that Legolas had not moved him to sleep with Silme confused Celebnar greatly, but ever curious, he continued to creep forward, testing the scene.

Celebnar was cold. His wing still hurt a great deal and the pain had weakened his small body. Even fluffed up and cowering close to the ground he could not preserve enough warmth to be comfortable enough for sleep. The closer he got to the small fire and the elf that was watching him, the warmer he became.

Legolas knew nothing of Celebnar's past but he did understand the desire in the falcon's eyes. He shifted slightly to make room next to his shoulder for the falcon, voicing no objection when Celebnar settled close to the side of his head and burrowed into the now familiar warmth of the elf's blanket.

Speaking softly in the grey tongue, Legolas reached one arm up and inched his hand toward the falcon, trying to earn the bird's confidence. Celebnar noticed immediately and growled in an odd way, a sound both cautious and content. The growl slowly changed to a murmur, low and deep, almost like a cat's purr as Legolas spoke even more gently while his fingers lighted on the falcon's back.

Celebnar tensed but did not snap or bite as he would have only hours ago, the pain of his injury and the contentment from the warmth he was not used to enjoying overpowering his sense of self-defense and survival.

Legolas stroked the soft feathers, smoothing them down before traveling up the falcon's body and massaging Celebnar's neck, never breaking his steady flow of elvish. It was a technique he had learned long ago to help with weary animals. Celebnar was easier though, for he had never had such attention before. In hardly a few moments Celebnar turned his head around, gently touching one of Legolas' fingers with his beak as a sign that he was falling asleep. Before Legolas had even curled his arm around the falcon with his hand over his head, Celebnar was breathing softly, his beak buried in the soft feathers of his back.

Legolas smiled. It looked as though he had made a friend.