The Cottage

TA 2907, near Hollin Ridge

Gildor's POV

I rose and looked around the dark room. It seemed all a little dusty here, but otherwise the wards had held perfectly tight. Nothing I couldn't fix in a day. I went to the great fireplace and looked into the cupboard where we usually kept some storage. Whoever left the cottage last took care that at least basic supplies were stocked. There were apples, shrunken of course, flour and salt. At least we would have fresh bread in the morning.

I remembered Glinael's mention of trying to trade with a few wood-men and pushed the door of a shaky and narrow cupboard open. There one still hung untouched, a dried ham of the sort Glinael had kept raving about. I had to smile. Perfect. I would owe him a ham, but if my only concern were food for tomorrow I would count myself lucky.-

I had no idea what to do with Raven. I was a healer, but I could only heal if the person in question was willing to be healed. Raven wasn't. I went through the bundles of dried herbs that always hung from the low ceiling. Most were spices and not especially healing herbs, but I could not go into the forest now to gather fresh ones. I shivered, and quickly shook off my own wet cloak, casting it over a chair.

I sorted through more herbs. There, I could use those, at least against the fever. That is, if the dark elf's physiology responded like that of my own kind-.

I hesitated. Now that was a thought. Well, there could be nothing wrong with these herbs. Even Men could use them.

So.

I lit another candle and built up a fire, then emptied our water bags into a small kettle and hung it over the flames to boil. With a woollen blanket I went over to Raven. He had already cast off his soaked cape, but the rain had drenched the garments beneath through as well. Either Raven did not realize it or ignored it. When he did not react to my speaking his name I touched his shoulder and Raven immediately came out of whatever he was in at the moment.

His wide eyes caught the light of the candle and reflected it as a cat's did. I felt the hairs on my neck rise. Or as a wolf's I thought, remembering the strange images I had caught from Raven's mind. All Elves had night sight, but as far as I knew we did not have cat eyes, reflecting eyes. Maybe Raven's people had developed it in assimilating to the long dark in the Age of Stars. – Anyway.

"You have to get out of those wet things" I said in answer to Raven's questioning look.

"Oh" Raven looked genuinely surprised and fingered his own clammy shirt. There were no laces and he had to raise his arms so I could pull it over his head. He winced as the motion made the raw edges of his wound scrape together. I pushed all thoughts of modesty into the back of my mind and pried Raven out of the soaked and clinging leather breeches as well before wrapping him in the blanket.

When I returned to the fire the water was steaming. I poured some into a cup and crunched a mixture of herbs into it, then took a second cup and poured the remaining water over a few leaves of mint. Tea was just the right thing now. After a while I fished the herbs out and brought the cup to Raven who had a little difficulty balancing it. I sat down on the chair beside the couch to sip my own tea. It had never felt so good just to sit down.

Raven had wrapped the blanket tightly around himself and pushed into a half sitting position again. He accepted the steaming cup without contradiction but sniffed suspiciously.

"Herbs" I answered the suspicious glance "And only herbs. Maybe they will do something against the fever"

"Am I taking up your bed?" Raven asked after a while of sitting in silence.

"No" I shook my head and gestured to the back of the cottage. "There's another room where I usually sleep. There's also a bathtub so you can have a wash with hot water tomorrow"

Raven looked puzzled. "Bath-tub?" he asked, stumbling over the word.

"Something like a huge barrel. You fill it with water and get in. – Don't you know what a bathtub is?"

Raven shrugged. "No. How? I told you I've never been into a…a house. Cottage. Whatever you call it"

The dark elves were a woodland people and mostly wandering folk, but almost all of them had contact to humans or other elven people who had discovered the comforts of settling somewhere.

If he didn't know what that was, where did he spend his life! A question that made me all the more curious of the story behind Raven. Anyway, that had to wait.

I had to fetch some water for the night, and then I wished for nothing but sleep. It was only a short walk to the cistern, but in the dark drizzle it felt like having to trek for miles. With two buckets I returned to the cottage and put them beside the fireplace. I went to look after Raven once more. After making sure he needed nothing else for the night, I went out again and set new wards. Then I fell into my bed.

Raven's POV

I spent the night half asleep, keeping a firm reign on anything that might turn into a completed thought, or worse, a dream. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, I wanted to remember about the last week. The last moons, to be correct.

Niy'ashi was gone. That was the only reality I knew when I was not wolf. And when I had given up running with the pack and decided to join the Silvan Elves' carefully planned assault on the orcs, I had done so with the idea of it being the last.

End it quickly. Or better, since to my own shame I had been unable to end it myself, have an orc end it. Just a moment's unwariness and that's that. If I wanted to, I need not fight the pain, need not try to heal. And I had wanted it so much. Until that one moment when I thought it was the end, when I saw the large orc towering above me and raising a jagged sword almost in slow motion. Then this mad Elda had charged in between like a white lightning and here I was, still alive, bruised and wounded, and still with the notion that my brother was gone forever.

And in this case, forever was a very long word.

I might have made a mistake.

Maybe with Onakir things would have turned out different –. I'm a raven, after all. What do I know of hawks?

Maybe these Elves here – maybe Gildor knew something else -

Apart from Mandos - I'm not sure I want the Valar noticing me at all-

I am sure I don't want my fёar in such a Vala's hands -

It was bad enough that circumstances tended to dictate my actions, worse to think that some gods might desire to as well.

I had not been aware the darkness Niy'ashi's death had left was dragging me after my brother, I could admit that now. Maybe it had not even been my own wish to die.

Gildor had been keener, and he had pulled me back, had set wards on the black void inside. It was still there, though, and I felt constrained to touch in that direction as if probing for a lost tooth. I did not like being rescued. I hated that feeling, hated myself for having to endure it. - If I could just end it. But no.

I could not, I dared not, and deep inside, I did not even know if I wanted to. I could not even say if this misfired attempt had turned my desire for an end into a fear of it. The wards as Gildor called them at least prevented dreams from coming, kept the memories from returning, for the time being. Dimly I remembered what he had said, that after a while I myself would be able to relax or even remove them. It would be so when I was able to deal with the pain.

Ha.

For now they were simply there, and though I was grateful for their presence, they represented a blow to my pride, not to mention my privacy. To pull me back against the drift into nothingness, and against my own will, Gildor had been forced to shatter all the shields I had been able to come up with. The wards had to be locked on the pain of loss and anchored so deeply that I wondered if there was any part of my mind the Elda might not have perceived. Where did the wolf come into it? That was my main concern now. All else was impossible to change anymore. Had Gildor found the wolf, found where I came from? And if, what would he do? He had mentioned nothing as yet.

After two days in which we had barely talked Gildor had risked more than physical death in following my mind and pulling it back against the sucking void. A dark elven mind at that, too. Just why?

A soulbond as intense and unreserved as I had shared with Niy'ashi would never have been allowed to happen unconsciously among the Eldar. Gildor had saved me alright, but he could not provide something – someone- to fill the void. Could he? Did I want him to?I squirmed inwardly. I was completely alone. In every way. So why was I still alive? Where was the reason for such a kind of existence?

The wolf was no help. He had lost the same soulbond.

Hadn't he?

Paralyzed by the sudden realization that the wolf had kept the darkness at bay before Gildor, I acknowledged that the wolf alone would have been able to cope.

Unlike me.

But I am the wolf.

The wolf is me.

If I die, so does the wolf.

Wouldn't he? –

That made no sense. But I had lived as wolf for moons after Niy'ashi's death. If everything failed, I could choose the wolf, completely.

After this night of mindless half- doze I had some problems becoming aware of myself again. Instinctively I reached for the wolf and the sharp sensations of foreign-ness all around that it brought. Without waking completely I smelled the fur of the bed I was lying on, the wooden floor, and furniture I could give no name to. Beeswax and several other, unidentifiable odours. The smell of my own dusty and sweaty body, the dried blood that still seemed to cling everywhere.

A black wolf made the world. The black wolf holds power. His fur is the colour of the shadow that was before the world and the brightnesses were made. So the legend said.

A black wolf made the world. But I am not – a wolf. But –

You cannot die. No, something else.

You must not die.

I wanted to wash. In my mind I saw the cold mountain lake not far from our last summer cave, the endless pinewoods surrounding it. I woke abruptly and completely, sucking in my breath as sharp pain ran through my body and in my head. For a moment I stared at the low ceiling, feeling desperate. I did not want to be here!

The wolf was there.

I let the animal awareness take over. I concentrated on my body. I could move, and could move everything, though it hurt. Never mind. I could not, however, seem to pull my mind together and push the fog on my perceptions away. The wolf had clearer objections. There was no smell of mountain forest. Outside was unfamiliar lowland forest, leaf-bearing trees, and beyond that, the vast expanse of the foreign plains. All was muffled by the wooden walls. That troubled the wolf, and by defining the opposite I got a little more power of unfurred's perceptions. Wooden walls need not necessarily trouble me. The things around here, the furniture, were strange, but not utterly foreign. Some of it I had seen in trading, some things I knew from the traders' talk.

So.

The wolf said, the next thing to consider was food. That made me acutely aware of my physical state. I could not hunt, not for several days, maybe weeks. Another problem came with that. My control over my shields was ragged and tenuous, and I would not be able to weave a useful mak'a'ara until the effects of the mental struggle faded.

Somewhere, I heard noises.

Outside?

No.

I pushed myself up on my elbows and tried to locate the sounds.

Water.

With grim determination I pushed myself into a sitting position and crossed my legs. I ground my teeth to keep from making a sound. No more weakness. I had shown enough to last me for a lifetime. I waited, but the throbbing pain did not stop.

Very well.

I dragged my old tunic over my head and swung my legs over the edge of the low bed to steady myself against the outthrust log at the wall.

Gildor's POV

I left the half-open niche we stubbornly called bathroom and a wave of cold air followed me inside. It was a shed more than anything, but I did not care much. We had a bath-tub. Drying my hair I felt very much better in clean garments, and was ready for breakfast. I had already fetched more water for a bath I guessed Raven would be yearning to take and had stoked up the fire to heat it. I would have to bake fresh bread this morning, and I was going over our provisions once more in my mind. If we were going to spend the winter here, I would have to go to Imladris for supplies before snow fell. When I rounded the corner I almost bumped into Raven. Concentrated on his effort to rise he flinched so hard he almost lost his hold on the log.

"No" he hissed, cutting off any probable attempt for help as he fumbled for a hold on the wood frame. I made no move towards him and instead leaned against one of the supporting logs in the opposite wall "You look like hell"

Just to say something.

Raven relaxed a little, shifting his position to keep upright.

"Hell must be feeling better than I do right now"

Raven seemed to sort himself out "You have water?" he asked almost pleadingly, glancing at my wet hair.

"I have a whole bath to offer you"

After a moments hesitation I decided on a trial to see how far I could go anyway. "Come on" I held out my arm for Raven to lean on. The dark elf studied it for a moment as if he had never seen a limb before. He was aware that I was testing him, but for what he could not say. Raven took a quick look in the direction from which I had come, estimating the distance to the door that led to the bathroom.

Raven's POV

The wolf did not think about pride or trust. I fought a brief, vicious battle with him, pride, instincts, and his desire for the easiest way. Losing it, I carefully leaned on the offered arm, and two steps later thanked fate for having made the decision. The few steps across the room seemed to drag into a huge distance, and I needed all strength I had to put one foot before the other without showing that.

The bathroom, I found, had three closed sides and one with planks set a hands breadth apart. I could see the outside through the gaps. The floor had scrubbed planks set in a similar manner, so I had to watch my feet. The floor level was higher than the natural ground. Cold air seeped in through the openings.

"You just tip the thing over or pull the plug" Gildor explained, pointing at the steaming, barrel- like tub on the side. It was made of some kind of metal, and a small fire was burning in a secured place below. Copper, my memory supplied after a moment of staring at the metal.

Should be I, thought glumly. Or you burn your house while soaking your arse. The traders' expression came unbidden into my mind, and made me feel slightly hysterical. Or burn your arse while immersed in water.

I should have stayed wolf. I should have let the doubts pass, and simply stayed furred forever.

But then, my mind whispered darkly. What would you have had? Wolves were short-lived, even more than humans. They all would have died, and the pack would be changing so fast, where could I stay there a lifetime?

Where my people have stayed since the beginning of their days, I answered my own question. As a wolf, I would probably be able to accept the death and life cycle of my pack mates quite differently than I would thinking like an Elf.

"It's cold but if you keep the walls all closed the wood gets dingy, and besides, this way you can easily dispose of the water". Gildor's voice jolted me back to the present. He placed a folded garment on a small stool I noticed only now and added "Well, I'll leave you alone. If there's anything, just shout"

I nodded. I shrugged off the smelly tunic and slipped into the hot water.

For a panicky moment I thought I was going to faint. The open wounds stung in the water so much it drove tears to my eyes. After a long moment the pain faded, or at least receded to a level I no longer felt. I soaked for a long while, and only moved when the small fire died and the water started to get cold. It was quite a challenge to get myself cleaned, and when I had finally got out of the water the cold air almost chilled me to the bone. I rubbed myself dry and wrapped a clean tunic from Gildor around me, leaning against the tub for a moment and closing my eyes. The tunic was too wide for me, and I rolled the sleeves up a little. Then I turned to the copper tub and tried to tip it over as Gildor had said. The full tub seemed like a rock rooted to the ground.

I gave up with a grunt. My head was spinning again. It drove me mad. I used a string of extremely colourful curses and got out of breath, a fact I cursed just as heartily though this time silently. I fumbled in the water for the plug and pulled it. The water slowly disappeared through the hole in the bottom with a sucking sound, spattering to the ground below the planks.

When I closed the wooden door behind me the warmth of the heated cottage enveloped me like a blanket. I fixed my eyes on the opening leading to the main room and moved towards it. I reached the doorframe and caught my weight against it, then carefully lowered myself onto the couch. My heart was racing. So far so good. At least I had not been forced to hobble along like an invalid again. I curled up on the soft furs and closed my eyes for a moment.

Gildor woke me a few hours later from a nap I had never meant to allow by speaking my name. From the sound of it the Elda had called me repeatedly already.

"Un'tannr toka -" I mumbled dazedly, images from some half-dreamed scenes dispersing before I could grasp them. Then I realized I had spoken in my own tongue, and woke fully. It would not do to flaunt that language about; maybe I had already betrayed myself through the wolf.

Gildor raised one eyebrow but let the matter be for the moment.

"You should eat something. Will you come into the kitchen?"

I nodded absently and got to my feet slowly. Whatever a kitchen was. I simply followed the smell of food. I was absurdly grateful he had asked me to get it and not brought it to me.

After the meal of bread, smoked ham and fruit we sat in front of the fire in the main room. I drew my knees up and sipped a mug of tea, staring into the flames. I blinked, trying to keep my eyes open. I was so tired I didn't even feel the wolf's discomfort in the face of the roaring blaze, only the comfortable heat. Feeling alternately hot and freezing I was occupied with myself. Gildor had a huge book on his lap, but he wasn't reading so much as simply turning the pages. Normally I would have been fascinated by the book, but I could not find any spare energy for it right now.

I jerked my head up when Gildor suddenly said "Go to sleep, Raven"

I didn't even have the strength to feel angry. I let Gildor help me over and on to the couch, just wanting to sleep. I was aware of Gildor talking to me, asking something. No idea.I wanted to curl up and felt vaguely alarmed when Gildor kept me from rolling over.

"Athelas"

He held something under my nose, and I flinched, sneezing at the scent. It took a moment until the fact registered with me. Salve. It's salve.

I tensed as he rubbed the strong smelling salve into the deepest wounds but was much too exhausted for a more manifest objection.

Chapter Notes:

Cottage: I assume the Wandering Companies might keep up places to stop over for a few nights similar to the Rangers' caches of fire-wood in the dell near Weathertop.

"Un'tannr toka": Ashi'kha "Leave me alone"

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