Changewolf

TA 2907

Raven's POV

"We cannot live like this forever" Onakir had said "I have spoken with your father, and he says in any case there will be trouble. Maybe not yet, maybe only far away. But that which is spreading this koth'shina has reached here already. He says the men in the lowlands are following it. So when you go westwards, try to find out what goes on. What the Bright Ones think. If there is a way we may help – tell them. They may have…shaman, too. Maybe you find them, and they will know…they will know what to do, when to act. Time is running out, and we should not fade or be destroyed unnoticed. I see not what is to come, and the hawk shows me little I understand yet. But things will happen, and they will start from the east, from our homeland, or very near. There is a place east beyond the great sea where the hawk never flies me. I cannot tell you what to look for. Maybe we can be of use in the events to come. But warn us at least"

The black is running. Four paws hit the soft floor of the forest in a pounding rhythm. Undergrowth and trunks rush past. Ahead, a buck running, galloping wildly but purposefully, fleeing.

The hunt is not yet decided. The wolf sees the white tail bobbing almost mockingly before him. He leaps-

The black cowers in a cave, hiding. But it is not the wolf – he was not wolf – I was not wolf - the cave – no -

I woke with a start, panting. Pushing myself up I looked around wildly, not comprehending the cottage surroundings for a dizzy moment. A candle was burning on the chimney shelf and I stared at it, shaking. It took me a long, empty moment until I recalled a word for what I saw – candle-flame. Quenya, for Ashi'kha had no word for it.

Cursed dreams.

Gildor gave me a quizzical look from where he sat by the…fireplace. That word, too, was long in coming.

"Maybe you should not go back to sleep for a while" he said dryly.

I shoved the covers aside "Probably"

Four days. No, five. How long ago since we first met?

Anyway, the cave had changed everything. The time of knowing and not knowing the other had become meaningless.

"Mind if I…join you by your fireplace?"

"Not at all"

I rolled myself in a blanket and curled up in the armchair. It was comfortably warm in front of the flames, and for a while I simply sat with my eyes closed. It was long since I had felt the heat of a fire last. Felt it comfortably. The orc-fire hardly counted. But I could not remember when. Niy'ashi had been alive then.

Out of a confused darkness of not knowing, not hearing, not recalling conscious thought finally rose to the surface. I guessed I'd be here for a long while, so it didn't seem to matter if I put the cards on the table now or later. There was no point in keeping things secret. I was not cunning enough for that. He had seen too much. He would know. I owed him. I had no idea what else to do. The only thing I knew was that somehow, sometime I would have to finish what Niy'ashi and I had set out to do. I would need help. I feared so.

Except that I might be a little smarter in telling the truth when I could think straight again. Gildor was rummaging in the next room.

"Raven?"

I flinched. I had not heard Gildor return and only now became aware of the smell of herbs and – something else.

You are inattentive, wolf. This will cost your hide if you do that in the wild.

Angered at myself I pried my eyes open and had to blink in the firelight.

"Here. Try it"

I sniffed. Vaguely, I recalled the scent "W-wine?"

Cursed sounds of Quenya. Maybe if I got myself drunk I could sleep -.

"Spiced wine"

"Plan on drugging me?" It was hard to find Quenya words.

Gildor made himself comfortable in his own chair again "I wouldn't try it with wine. Coming to think of it, I suppose you would not be happy with me if I tried at all"

"No"

The wine had a better effect in warming me up than tea. I wondered how much I would need if I actually wanted to get drunk. By what I remembered from Niy'ashi's and my first acquaintance with the stuff it could not be that much.

The fire was crackling. The sound and smell of it still vaguely alarmed the wolf.

You can't talk straight while you are sober, so don't even think about getting drunk I thought.With an effort I brought my mind back to the present once again. I might keep my remaining pride in telling him outright. I gave in to my own reasoning

"What do you want to know?" I said abruptly "Ask, because I am not a story teller"

Gildor raised an eyebrow "Going to divulge some secrets of yours finally?"

"Some"

Gildor took a moment to think. He could have started his questioning with a well-what-are-you-anyway and made things easier for me.

"Start from the beginning. Where are you from? Except 'Dark Mountain'?"

I rubbed my eyes and kept them closed for a moment. The flickering light of the fire was uncomfortable. My eyes could not decide if to focus on light or shadow.

"I cannot answer that really. I…I was born in the north, in the…my people call it Eversnows. My clan was driven there by orcs years after my father had come to the clan. We stayed in the snows for several years, but many of the clan died and the survivors were not…happy in the ice. So we returned when we thought it might be safe. We went to our old home in the…Orocarni. But we kept travelling, because all the lands had changed. There is a mountain range north of the Great Water. Of…Rhun, I think you call it?"

Gildor nodded "The Iron Hills. I thought that was only Dwarf land"

"Yes. But we live…not underground" I said "That's where we are now. The Iron Mountains. Hills. In winter, that is, sometimes. Usually, we stay east. But our summer camps are much nearer the sea. Rhun. But there are not many dwarves anymore, in the Iron Hills. I don't think we ever meet. We saw them, yes, but they never see us…Our - my father is not of the clan. He came over the mountains after the destruction of…Gondolin. Over the mountains of Gondolin, I mean. Fleeing. And met my people. Or rather, they found him. They were far away. Only so, they found him. K'ashi did"

I broke off and stared into the fire, blinking. It was harder to speak even this detachedly about my clan than I would have guessed. I didn't know if my eyes stung from the firelight. I missed K'ashi more than I missed Khai'la, or even my father. For a while, there was silence.

Gildor's POV

I sucked in my breath sharply at the mention of Gondolin. Luckily Raven was not looking at me and did not notice my reaction. By the look of him, he was having his own share of unpleasant memory. But what struck me most was the revelation about his father. A few days ago, he had said 'somewhere among his ancestors' was a Noldo. Now it had become his father, and that changed a lot. At least in my opinion.

"K'ashi?" I asked.

"My…of my clan. He…is my friend. My…almost like my father"

"And your brother?" I asked after a moment "When did you get soulbound like…like this?"

Raven took a deep breath "I don't know either. We've always been, I think. I…cannot remember a time…without. Or before. It simply was…that way"

"And if you are such a secret people…why are you here? Why did you two leave the clan?"

"Wolf clan had…people to…go outside, sometimes. For hunting, and then for trading. After father came. For things we cannot produce ourselves. It is always a risk, because we do not even speak another language. Before f – Hurondil came, I mean. We never went out to trade, before, ever. But with bits of Quenya it is easier to find people and to trade. They think we are…Avari. So Niy'ashi…Fingal….and I were-" Raven groped for the word "-'scouts' I think will do. We traded with humans and other dark elves, but we also went far beyond the…lands of the clan, later. N-…Fingal had been doing it before, and when I was old enough I went with him"

"Your sword? It looks old"

"Oh" Raven turned the mug in his hands thoughtfully "Fingal's. My father's, originally. It is, I suppose. Old, that is. He brought it from Gondolin, it belonged to a friend of his. He gave it to Fingal. When…Fingal was slain I would not leave it, so I took it with me. It's there, have a look at it" Raven gestured vaguely.

I went over to the bed and picked up the sword in its worn scabbard. It was a one-and-a-half-handed blade, heavier than my own. I wondered if Raven knew that such a blade was often called bastard-sword. Given his permission now I slipped it out of the scabbard – and was glad my back was to Raven so he could not see my shock. Raven had mentioned Gondolin already, but I had not expected to meet this blade here, again-. The traitor's sword. Anguirel, the Iron Star. When I thought I had composed myself sufficiently I turned around, holding the blade into the light with one hand, resting the naked tip on my forearm not to leave fingerprints on the steel. I thought I felt a slight tingling emanating from the blade, and dismissed the sensation angrily. Old, bad memories. Gondolin followed me like no other thing I had experienced. I could hardly think this would leave me calmly untouched. The metal gleamed dully black in the firelight, and the fine lines of an engraved inscription could be seen.

"Can you read it?" Raven asked quietly as I shifted the blade to look closer at the letters "Father could not"

I wanted to ask if he knew who 'that friend of his' father's had been, what his relation to Hurondil had been, but then I would have to reveal I had been there. No. Not yet at any rate.

"You know its name?"

Raven shook his head "Thorn. That is what father called it. He said this first sign" Raven pointed at the twisted symbol as I knelt in front of his chair "he thought meant Thorn"

The writing was twisted and coded. Moreover, it was Telerin. Ancient Telerin.

"It does" I stared at the letters absently before bringing my mind back to the present. I held the blade so Raven could see the symbols right side up "Thorn of the heavens, created by death of the light, bound in the darkness, stills the blood that it draws". That is what this says"

Raven stared at me "Khai'toh" he said softly. Before I could ask what that meant he said "What does it mean?"

"I have no idea" I said "You have carried this. If neither your father nor his sons can't say yet, my guess is as good as yours" And that was not strictly a lie. I could guess at the meaning of the first line - Anguirel was supposed to have been made from iron that fell from the skies. So much Maeglin had said. But the rest was as obscure as its maker had been.

For a moment Raven looked at me strangely. I returned the blade to its scabbard thoughtfully.

"What about Fingal and you anyway?" I asked "What – why – did you have to…scout so far from your lands? And how did you two get in conflict with the orcs at all?"

Raven took a long sip of wine.

"We…agreed to do this for our clan's shaman. Far-scouting. He thought…thinks…a great…trouble is coming. For years the orcs have become more, in the mountains especially. The men in the east are…different from what they were. They fell more trees, the kill more beasts. They kill more among themselves than they used to. And many of them go into the west. What you here call the east. They go to Mordor, I know now. So Fingal and I, we gathered news, or tried to, to find out what was going on which Onakir - Nightchaser maybe would not see on…shin'a'sha…in the dream world, I think is the closest. We are fighting with the orcs for our lands up there now. With a few, we can share. But they hunt as well, and they hunt a lot. So do we. They multiply, and our prey flees or is killed by them. So we kill the orcs when we can. Fingal and me, we were good at that. We killed them before they even came into our lands"

Raven gave a lopsided smile "We – no, I have to start the other way. Orcs do not care for wolves. But sometimes they hunt them for fur, sometimes they hunt them to capture them. Fingal and I watched them, and we killed those groups off especially. We…went to quite some lengths to free the captured wolves. One day, things went wrong. We just…took on too many"

I digested that "You take all that trouble for wolves? What is that with you and the wolves? I think you could come to that now"

Raven nodded slowly "My people…live with the wolves. Very much so. It was they who helped us survive in the first place, in the eversnows. We have…some kind of…bond"

Raven emptied his wine "I cannot tell you. But I can show you all. Just promise me this – do not tell anyone"

I frowned "What are you implying?"

Raven shook his head "Share my memories. I can try to tell you, but words are not…correct. I can explain nothing. You…have done it before, touch my mind again"

I shook my head doubtfully"That won't be pleasant. I only brushed your mind when I did that searching while we were with Caladur's clan. Now would have to really touch your mind. And you cannot shield at all if I do that"

Raven had been bitterly interested in avoiding any chance of mental contact, even refused to let me treat his wounds after the first evening. So what he had to say must mean quite a lot to him, enough to bear with the pain that still would invariably come with a touch.

"I can't make the contact, you must do it" Raven snapped. "You did much more two nights ago. So do it now before I can think about it"

"If you…do not have the words to explain, wait. A few days more, it does not count. As long as you will tell then"

That was obviously tempting but Raven shook his head decisively. "No. Do it now. It will not make a difference" He got up and sat down on the floor "Come. It is now or never"

I hesitated but then took a seat beside him. Raven dropped his shields and reached out to take my hands. He could block physical pain to a degree, but unshielded this was unstoppable, like fire lancing along his veins. He tightened his own grip before I could let him go. I tried not to dwell on the feeling of strangeness and intimacy of that contact that allowed no distance at all. Raven did not fight me this time, so I needed much less energy to complete the contact.

'Well then - show me'

Raven's POV

For a moment I was at a loss. The wolf's reflex was to jerk back, and it almost overruled my own attempt to stay still. I was in control now, which was something I had not expected. But this also meant I had to organize what I wanted to share. So I concentrated on what Onakir had shown me. This was almost like the shadow paths. For the time being, I was cut off from my body and all the discomfort of it.

Yet, I felt Gildor's apprehension, and judged that the Elda was feeling out of his depth for a change as well, following memories not his own, memories shared by me and wolf alike.

This slow unravelling of memories, of picking out things within them, was hard. With Niy´ashi every connection had been instinctive, unguided. Neither of us had needed to control what the other was 'seeing'.

- Niy'ashi, teaching his little brother to fight with a knife - a sunny afternoon in summer, we were chasing each other over a wide meadow – this was the land of the ever-snows, and we knew we would try and go back to what many called home -

- my father, talking to me in Quenya – the other way round and Hurondil fumbling with a new code of Ashi'kha, we laughed when word and accompanying image did not fit -

- a weed-grown clearing in the moonlit night, total silence in the forest ; Niy'ashi is crouching behind me, around the edge of the clearing several Ashi'kha crouch in the trees; when the orcs – scrawny ones, much smaller and lighter than the fighting breed – come into view, searching, sensing the prey they have been stalking, unaware they were being the ones led astray – they do not care for the wolves close by, wolves often follow where orcs go – then the pack turns on them, driving them right into the clearing, towards the archers -

- Niy'ashi and I creeping through a low tunnel; there is water rushing in front, and a pack of lean, half-starved and ill-treated wolves follows us, fleeing from their hunters -

- the pack of the valley, greeting me as I approach them; the white female, whose name is Joy, running by my side on the hunt – sleeping beside me in the den, curled around new born cups -

- I call the wolves, crouching at the invisible edge of a territory, waiting for them; when the leader answers I call the change, feeling my senses stretch into the awareness and sharpness of a wolf's – it is no effort to change, I do it so often it is like shrugging off a garment –

- the sequence of a hunt alone, searching the scent, following it to the doe, the long hard chase until I overtake her, kill, eat...

- Niy´ashi arguing with two traders, exchanging rabbit furs with salt and flour –

- the black wolf running at breakneck speed flying down an icy mountain slope; a horse thunders out of the trees to the side and the human rider throws a spear that grazes my flank – blending into another run, but this time sylvan elves surround the pack, fending us off with torches –

- orcs, swarming around us, Niy´ashi stands with his back pressed to mine, gripping father's sword –

- a rainy, moonless night; I am alone, completely alone – gripping the sword tightly – once Niy'ashi's sword – I creep along a muddy rift in the ground, the one thought to kill in my mind –

My hold on the connection faltered. It took me a moment to realize that the wards were holding and the void Niy'ashi's death had caused remained…removed, further away. Gildor held on to keep our connection from breaking before I realized what was happening.

'What are you!' Eldarin mind-speech was skilful, used words, allowed distance. Father had never spoken like this to us. He had used our way. I was at a loss how to reply. I had ever only sent in images, emotions – no distance possible in Ashi'kha mind-speech – images were sent as they came to mind, as they were. I had never mind-spoken father, I realized suddenly, not outside speaking the ritual code of Ashi'kha. It took much more focus, much more concentration to form words – much more energy.

'I am as you have seen …-…that my people are -'

'I do not understand'

'I am the wolf'

puzzlement

'Let me go. I'll show you'

Gildor drew back, and I felt myself floating free, a curious sensation of falling and drifting at the same time. Our connection broke off with a snap. Too fast. We were not attuned enough to each other to break the contact at the same time. I must find out how to do this smoothly Gildor thought numbly, I caught that fervent thought, and almost laughed.

He released me, and I sucked in my breath, suddenly feeling my body again, the pain of the bad-healing wounds. I looked up, suddenly panting for air. Gildor seemed –shocked? Repelled? I could not tell. The Elda's control over his features was perfect. Some time passed.

" 'I'll show you? " Gildor echoed then, unbelieving.

No going back now. "Right" I tried to get up, and promptly my knees gave way.

"Ho. I'm not going to kill you, so don't do it yourself" Gildor caught me and pulled me to my feet, steadying me. I was so startled at my sudden weakness that I could only cling to him and wait for my mind to catch up with the situation. I managed a hoarse laugh, thinking how absurd the wolf must seem in here, in this…cottage. "You tell me -"

Gildor looked at me searchingly, mystified. I tried to catch my breath, not knowing where it had got to "Gildor, I mean it. My people have been killed for being what we are, and I can see why"

"Wolves!"

"Precisely"

"You are no wolf"

"What have you seen in my mind?" I demanded "You are not blind, or do you not want to understand? I just told you! I need not justify my being what I am, I'm certainly not a spy of Sauron! Don't you think you would have felt that!"

Abruptly I looked aside in submission, the wolf telling me I had gone too far with a superior. For a moment I stared at the ground, torn between resentment and the wolf's infallible wisdom. I backed away and shook off the gown I wore. It wouldn't do for the wolf to stumble over some garment.

"What - " Gildor began, but I cut him off with a snarled command. I wouldn't manage a showy change, standing, and even less leaping from two-legged to four-legged in one go. Wolf anatomy demanded a crouching position if I had to remain still during the change and did not want to fall once I was wolf. All the more with a change as wobbly a one like this was going to be.

Gildor's POV

"Don't - touch me now" Raven ordered sharply as I made to move forward. I retreated when I felt…energies called up. It wasn't the green energy of plants I could use to set wards, I couldn't call it magic either - it was something utterly foreign. I knew Raven had a way of calling power from the land, but this was still different. I could not place it, could not decide if I should be prepared to defend myself. A shadow seemed to flow over the crouching dark elf – or was it only a trick of the flickering firelight? – no, the shadow rippled, deepened. I had seen something like this before. Darkness flowing from the fenced land, smoke writhing through white paved streets…

Dimly, I could make out Raven's form, but it seemed to twist – abruptly the shadow vanished, flickering, and I faced a wolf in place of the dark elf. A huge wolf, black like midnight. I strangled a cry, fighting the urge to kill that…thing…or to run, reaching for a knife I did not carry at the moment.

Coiling darkness – in a land now buried and changed.

Twisted creatures, only a mockery of what they originally were-

Fire stop the werewolves. The only warding spell I knew came to mind. The only one I had ever learned and managed to make work. With the smouldering ruins of Gondolin at my back and the slaughter of the misty plain around us, when the wolves had turned up. Time righted itself, and I realized none of the evil was here that I had felt then.

The wolf did not get up, did not move. He lay on his belly with one foreleg stretched out, the other curled under his breast, his head lowered so that his muzzle almost touched it, panting. Finally the wolf looked up.

I stood frozen, completely taken aback. Somewhere in my mind I registered that the wolf had Raven's stormy grey eyes. Shaped and piercing like a wolf's, and much more direct than Raven had ever met my eyes before. For a moment, the amber stare of the wild wolf of two days ago looked back at me.

What I had seen fell into place. Finally.

I took a step back to put my hand on the solid wooden post.

So the rumours were true after all

Dark elves running with wolves.

Hunting with them.

Werewolves.

Dark Elven fea trapped by Melkor – were they the spirits that inhabited werewolves? -

No, I was blabbering. He was as solid as I was, I had seen him, I had felt him.

He was an Elf – as well.

I thought he was.

The wolf averted his eyes and rose, slowly, gingerly, setting down paw after paw. He had seemed gigantic. Now I saw that though he was taller than the wild wolves, he was less massive. He stood stiffly, as if fearing to fall. His flanks were still heaving with rapid, forced breathing.

The energy, I realized. It had been enough that I had felt it at a distance. As they were within a building and the power had not been wholly Raven's own, it must have been called from outside. The change had probably taken most of the strength Raven had regained during his brief rest before. This was no glamour, no called up image, I knew. I could see through those. Several wild ideas came to my mind, half heard whisperings and superstitions.

Drink from the wolves' river. Eat their flesh.

Call their spirits, drink their blood.

So you become one. Human sayings. Werewolves.

Could I talk to him mind to mind? Is there a mind to talk to?-

Raven's POV

The damn cottage prevented me from drawing all the energy I needed from the outside. It was only a wooden barrier, but it was dead wood, and it was enough. The cottage slipped out of focus as I changed. Clumsily. It felt as if the ground was bucking.

Then the wolf's sharp senses crashed into my consciousness, overlaid it.

Fire-.

I tried to twitch away from it.

No, ignore it.

It was a good thing I was on the ground already, it took all of my power and will to pull through the change, a sure sign I had overreached his limits. For a split second I hovered between going on and letting the change slip. I had never before been forced to struggle to control the change, control the wolf.

'You'd be lost in the wild'

The wolf seldom panicked, but he did now, for a second, before I was fully in control again.

I found myself on the cottage floor, the intense scent of oiled wood stinging in my nose. It was always an effort to keep unfurred's awareness in control of the wolf, but now it was thoroughly exhausting. I felt as if I had swum against a tide for a long while.

Looking up I saw horror on Gildor's face, smelled his fear.

For a moment I thought it wise to flee, but knew I couldn't. The wolf was sensitive to stares, and Gildor stared at me. I avoided his eyes again so as not to be mistaken for challenging.

Gathering awareness of my body I managed to stand up. I had meant to jump to the couch, try to reach Gildor with mind-speech, but the wolf felt the pain just as keenly as unfurred this time.

I took a step forwards, feeling the fire roaring at my back, feeling the wolf's fear of it. I got tangled up with four feet, and almost fell. To keep at least a shred of dignity, I lay down on my belly before I could stumble once more.

Gildor seemed to swallow the turmoil in his mind and after a moment, knelt beside me, expecting obviously that I would attack him roaring.

Gildor's POV

The wolf looked up, sharply.

"Raven - ?" I talked to Faire as if she were an elf. Yet it felt so stupid and absurd addressing a wolf this way. Could he understand me like this anyway, if I talked?

This was Raven, I repeated. I had known about shape-shifting, technically. This was just the confirmation. When he felt hands on his pelt Raven obviously lost control over the wolf. Snarling, he jerked his head towards the touch, and I snatched my hand back from the bared fangs, ready to jump away completely. With a force of will I stayed on the ground where I was, beside him.

That had been a snarl, a warning, but the wolf had not snapped. The wolf was panting, shifting on the wooden floor. He licked his muzzle, seemed uncertain.

"Raven?"

This time the wolf looked at me, really looked. I had a disconcerting feeling of the dark elf's and the wolf's awareness fixing on me. He ducked his head and with a thud lay back flat on the floor.

I lowered my shields '?'

The wolf looked at me. Then, all of a sudden the wolf's bright, raw awareness was fixed on my mind, mixed with Raven's at least half familiar presence. ' '

Another shift 'Gildor. Yes. You can – you can touch me now. I am sorry. I won't bite. I think so'

It was hard to puzzle through that. No words at all. I felt my heart racing, my hands shook. I was afraid and knew it. Stretched out on his side the wolf was almost as long as I was tall. And he was a wolf. Forcing myself to stay calm I slowly reached out once more. The wolf – Raven – gods, this was strange – followed my move, the grey eyes burning into me. I touched the black fur of the wolf's ruff lightly. No feeling of darkness, of the Shadow. When nothing horrible happened, I reached further, stroked the wiry hairs firmly. Underneath the guard hairs was thick soft pelt. Just to touch the wolf made more real what had happened. It was the first time I touched a wolf. A living wolf. And for all the world, this could be a simple wolf.

'There is nothing simple about wolves'

'I should give more credit to rumours'

There were lots of books, yellowed manuscripts by unknown authors. Tales told at night around campfires. Any wound the changebeast received would carry through the transformation. Demons and spirits of the dark, that was what controlled werewolves, that was what gave power to the one who invoked such a spirit. There had been no incantation.

None that I had heard.

'We are one, the wolf and me'

'Yes, I…see'

In the firelight the black guard hairs shimmered like liquid. I ran my hands over the wolf's side. The ribs were sticking out beneath the fur. Suddenly it occurred to me that this touch might be somewhat too private. Embarrassed, I drew back.

'Sorry'

The wolf did not open his eyes 'Never mind'

His mind-voice was blurred with weariness.

'There is no such thing as shame among wolves. Not the way you feel it now'

'But you are an elf as well -'

I remembered I had unshielded to touch the wolf's mind, to be able to understand the mental images at all. I had no idea how far or what he might be risking -

No. I would not even think of it.

'I am…wolf…now. Elven conventions lose their meaning then. Just as wolf conventions don't need to…apply to…the elf. You need not fear to…embarrass me' A pause ' What do you think?'

' I don't know what to think'

'You think me…dangerous. I mean no harm either' Another pause 'Does this…repel you?'

I considered that for a moment. This was suddenly as if Faire had asked that same question. There was only one answer 'No'

I reached out to stroke the wolf's ruff again. 'I have never thought about this…well, really happening. There were rumours of course. But'

Why wolves? How-. I tried to order my thoughts.

'Are you wolf or Elf?'

'Both. Neither. I cannot answer that question. We are born as elves, if that is what you mean'

'There is no other…form…you can…take?'

The wolf's ears twitched slightly. He glanced at me, sensing all the implications to that question through our connection.

'I am no shape-changer. There is only…the wolf. I am in full control of…the change. It is…our nature. Not a curse' Raven hesitated 'At least I think so. I have heard…talk. There are no rituals. No special time. No incantations. We…change at will. Shift. Anytime'

The fire crackled. The candle had burned low. Time, a long time had passed. With an effort I turned my mind to what had led us to this.

'Raven, your people will take some conviction out of your allies'

'I know. They will fear us. They will think we are…in league with the dark forces. Demons. Just as you did'

'Wolves run with orcs. That is usually enough to prove that. Well, to our eyes anyway'

'Yes, to your eyes. But these are no wolves then'

'What do you mean?'

'What kinds of wolves do you know?' Raven persisted.

'Wargs. Werewolves. Normal wolves. What are you playing at?'

Hesitation.

'We think…wargs are…creatures of evil. They are to wolves what orcs are to Elves-. Werewolves are like…Nightchaser believes they are…elven fёar the…Dark Lord warped, and sent to possess wolves…as lesser servants'

'What do you know of fёar?' I interrupted, startled, hearing my own thoughts of a moment ago echoed. 'I thought…'

'That dark Elves would not know?' Raven's mind-voice was sarcastic. 'Some may not know, yes. But you forget who my father was. And the Ashi'kha learn fast. Werewolves are…normal wolves taken over by an ev- such a spirit. We do not know how it happens, where these creatures come from or what happens to them when the wolf dies…but this can happen to any creature. It does not mean wolves are…more susceptible to evil-. My people are…call it changewolves. Our name would translate as…fur bearers. No. Turns furred. Becomes wolf. That is what Ashi'kha means'

'Yes-'

For a while we fell silent.

Raven's POV

I felt sleepy now. The warmth assisted to that, and the wolf held my fear of dreaming at bay, as well as my pride. I could sense Gildor's mind racing, but he kept his thoughts carefully shielded now. As I had told him, unfurred's conventions did not hold when I was wolf. Gildor absently kept running his fingers through my fur. Once the wolf had got used again to being touched it was a pleasant sensation. I fought to stay awake. The night was getting old.

"Heavens, Raven, we're idiots" Gildor said suddenly into the silence.

The wolf took a moment to register the spoken words and form a reply.

'I know I am, but what makes you think so of yourself?'

'Oh hell. It just feels like we could have settled all this so much easier. And we can discuss werewolves' natures later'

"Come on now" He tugged lightly at the wolf's fur.

Alarmed, I jerked my head up, flattening my ears 'Where?'

"Well, I can't let my guest fall asleep on the floor"

'I don't mind so much – at all'

I got up nevertheless and padded towards the couch. I could not muster the strength to leap, so climbing it was. With an effort I placed my forelegs on the couch. Still too high. My back legs threatened to give way.

'Can you-?'

Gildor hesitated, catching the mental image accompanying the sending. But he had no better idea to get me up on the couch, so he obeyed and pulled me up by the ruff. I flopped down on the furs.

The wounds under my fur stung. I did not have the energy to lick them, though the wolf longed to ease the pain by that.

'Will you – stay like this?' Gildor asked uncertainly.

'I – yes, I'd rather. I…I don't have the energy to change back so soon'

Gildor settled himself beside me on the couch. To my own surprise and a little shame I was grateful that he did not leave. The wolf saved me. He did not care about pride at all.

'What about you?'

"I have a lot to think over"

I stretched into a comfortable position and fell asleep after a while, safe with the wolf keeping nightmares away.

Chapter Notes:

Anguirel: "Then Beleg choose Anglachel; and that was a sword of great worth, and it was so named because it was made of iron that fell from heaven as a blazing star…One other sword only in Middle-earth was like to it. That sword does not enter into this tale, though it was made of the same ore by the same smith…Eöl the Dark Elf…gave Anglachel to Thingol as fee…for leave to dwell in Nan Elmoth; but its mate Anguirel he kept, until it was stolen from him by Maeglin, his son"

The Silmarillion, "Of Turin Turmabar"

I took the freedom to call Anguirel Thorn, add an inscription and one other ingredient (see RDCTS The Third Battle/ End of the War); Eöl was "a tall elf of a high kin of the Teleri" ("Of Maeglin"), so I assumed he would have engraved the words in Telerin.

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