Hollin Ridge

TA 2907

Gildor's POV

Life can't be measured in gold

But in the feelings that you hold

With all your hopes and all your fears

There's so much to share

She always let her beauty shine

It was something so divine

I could lose myself in her eyes

And be the wind in her hair

She comes to me in my dream

More beautiful than I've ever seen

And whispers words of love and hope into my ear

I don't want her to go away

She tells me she would like to stay

As I see her wipe away a lonely tear

Time cannot take away her grace

I can still see her face

It's been carved in my heart buried deep

I just wait until the night

When she and I unite

She will be mine as long as I'm asleep

Colours in the Ice had always had a special quality. Bluish, and even colder than cold. Silver. Under the starlight, and then suddenly under the moon, the Ice had always glittered cold and silver.

There had been no scents in the Ice. In sharp contrast then, the wide lands of Middle Earth, full of grass waving in the night-wind, full of sounds, scents and life.

Moonlight on silver hair -

As we sin, so do we suffer – that was what they said, wasn't it? –

I crossed my arms tightly and suppressed a shiver, wrenching my mind back to the present. I could move closer to the fire, but looking outside at least offered some diversion. The weather was foul, and anyway, there was nothing to do right now. There was even enough firewood. Raven took care of that, moving about gathering dry sticks and small splinters with the urgency of a hamster in late fall. I had already split the larger chunks into handy bits. Our water-supplies were filled, too. I wished repeatedly that Faire was here, that I could have ridden out with her. But this land did not lend itself to pleasure-rides at the moment. Aside from dark dreamlike memory I could not decide what bothered me most, Faire's absence or the fact that the black wolf was scouring the forest alone. I had not forgotten the two orcs that had for some reason ventured into the plains, though Raven appeared singularly unimpressed by the possibility to meet other stray orcs in the foothills. We were near the mountains, after all. I think he was hoping to find some. I knew vengefulness when I saw it, my own case included. But I did not trust the dark elf's physical strength yet should he find orcs. He had recovered remarkably well, but there were instances when his carefully guarded reactions told me he had overestimated his current constitution. Well, I could do nothing now. Except waiting. And waiting made my thoughts drift. So I stood staring into the dense fog from behind a veil of drops on the window pane.

Window-pane. Even this cottage had been furnished with glass. My company had already made bets how long the panes would remain whole, no matter that we always locked the shutters when we left.

Cold emanated from the glass. I had counted on reaching Imladris for the winter, but right now I was glad not to be there anyway. Raven was not an easy companion, though on terms of arrangements it was quite comfortable to share close quarters with him. He seldom seemed prey to boredom – and if he was, he curled up in the sun or in front of the fire and slept. By day. The nights he usually spent awake, busying himself with anything available that would not make a racket. He had already accumulated a small supply of bone arrow-heads. I was waiting for him to complete the shafts, curious to see how the arrows would fly.

My mind kept returning unmercifully to the past today. I swore inwardly. I would not torment myself with the past by seeking the Dreampaths wilfully, but time and again, whenever I was not careful, the dreams tended to return without summoning them. After so long a time, memories of Silmarussë had not lost their edge. Not that I expected them to, but I wished my memory was less accurate and lively whenever that happened. And once they had a hold on me, it was near impossible to shake them off.

The decision not to wed had been as much rebellion as cold reasoning based on that decision. Even when first spoken the words of that decree of the Valar had hung over us as a threat. And when long years later we stood in the dark looking at the herald of doom and thought of binding ourselves before the uncertainty of what lay ahead, Silmarussё had made the decision for us.

"Tears unnumbered you will shed" – then there was no need to increase the sorrow of all with personal sorrow that could be avoided

"Slain ye can be, and slain ye shall be" – then there was no need to bind with personal bonds what had been tied into shared defeat by the words of prophecy. Enough to know what we were to each other and no matter if one more Valinorean law broken – a private vow, and our own law – not to bind each other in life, not to bind each other beyond death

"In this matter it shall not be lawful for any of the Eldar to judge his own case" - yet we were outcasts now.

"Not even the echo of your lamentation shall pass over the mountains" - on our own, it would be us who decided.

The fool's hope of outwitting a Vala.

"For who among the Living can discern the thoughts of the Dead, or presume the dooms of Mandos?" – If we were not wed in the Law that Mandos had decreed, would we not be unable to be held to it? No marriage willed in life, no one would be bound beyond death.

A binding that was more like an un-binding. Partners, lovers, comrades-in-arms.

But traditions were carried over the Ice, frozen into stasis like so many memories of bliss, both bringing only sorrow to the new lands.

We are not children any longer. It is us who decide. We are warriors. So she had said. And she and many others had paid the price for that freedom. We had been fools when we had still thought some day we might allow our union to bring forth the children it was meant to produce. In times when war was so imminent no warrior thought of truly begetting children. That was one part of the law we agreed with. Because we both fought.

Would I have had it otherwise? Maybe. But what about her? What would she do if we could make our choices over again?

I looked in on the horses in their shed behind the cottage. Nothing to do there either. It was cold and a heavy dampness lay over the land. Eregion-weather. I knew it never failed to drive the rhevain mad when they came here. If they did, they travelled light, carrying no rain-shelter – that meant days on end all their camps were an affair of sodden possessions. Somehow I ended up behind the window again.

Raven had not changed in my range of sight, but I knew he had gone as wolf. Whatever he did out there escaped me. What did wolves do on their own – if they were not even true wolves? I wondered if I truly wanted to know. Still, I suspected he was trying to deal with his own troubles. He quickly became snappish if someone started to 'pry', as he called it. I did not cherish people's prying either, but his completely unforthcoming way about things concerning himself often irritated me. Sometimes he aced as if fea-raika had given me to know everything that concerned him. At least Raven also sensed when I did not wish to address something that was troubling me, and therefore he pretended not to notice.

I glumly watched the fog thicken and rain start to fall, trying to shake off the clinging memories and figure out what I could do for distraction. I was far too occupied to notice Raven's noiseless arrival and yelped in surprise when he appeared at my side. Raven started as well and frowned.

"I called your name twice already. I thought you did not want to hear"

"Gods. Please, make some more noisewhen you come in"

"Should I throw stones when you don't hear me?" Raven looked at me thoughtfully, obviously debating whether he should leave or no. His hair curled with dampness, and I refrained from asking when he had returned. It couldn't have been long.

For a moment I was not sure if I wanted to be alone or was relieved at Raven's presence.

"You have come back soon"

I expected an answer like 'I can go back out if I disturb you', but Raven only shrugged "I did not make it into the mountains. The first small river I encountered was so deep and strong I could not cross without finding a ford. All the streams will be as full as after snow melt" He moved away from the window to curl up in a cushioned chair in front of the fire. If I remembered rightly the stream he would have encountered if he had gone the way I thought did not possess a ford. It went swift and strong in its deep ravine. Sometimes you could wade it, but if it ran high you could only cross where it had its source, much higher up in the hills.

"What about you?" he asked after a while, addressing my back. "Tell me if you'd rather be alone"

I turned away from the window undecidedly. I could back out or answer.

"I was thinking about someone" I said noncommittally. Raven watched me with the long patience of the wolf. After a while I sighed. "Alright, my…wife"

For a brief moment Ravens stared at me in open surprise, you had a wife! written large over his face. He was good at hiding his feelings, but sometimes it was very easy to see what he was thinking. So far he had been the one to make me goggle, and I almost grinned that for once it had been my turn.

"Oh" he said. I think it took him a moment to put what he knew of Eldarin customs together with what he knew about me, and then he wasn't sure what to say. Such conversations were always treacherous ground, no matter if I faced one of my own people or a dark elf.

"She is dead?"

I suppressed an irrational surge of anger. I had answered, naturally he would catch the ball I had passed on.

"Yes" I pushed myself away from the window ledge and took another chair close to the grate "She…we were not married, officially. We were…partners. And we came across the Ice together" I could see that Raven knew what I meant. Probably his father had told him. Hurondil must have been very young when we left Valinor, but old enough to remember it. Idril's age maybe? I couldn't say and it wasn't really important.

"She was slain bef-…in the First Age" Before Gondolin I had almost said. But memories of Gondolin seemed worse than memories of the Ice, sometimes. And somehow I still did not want Raven to know I had been there.

"If losing one's wife is anything like losing a soulbond I can not imagine how you have fared" Raven said to my surprise. Since initially telling me of Fingal and him he had never mentioned either his brother or fea-raika again. If I had unintentionally hurt him more than fea-raika inevitably did he was not prepared to show it, and I was wise enough not to ask.

"And you have –well…stayed alone all the time since then?"

'We wed only once in life' I nearly said, and immediately was furious with my instinctive retreat into the husks of a law I had never really heeded. I had to laugh suddenly "Thank the gods you're dark elven or your first reaction would have been a frown and a 'but the law…'"

"I know the law. Your law" Raven said softly ""Therefore when one of the partners of a marriage dies the marriage is not yet ended. There can be union only of one with one. The ending of will must proceed from the Dead, for the Living may not for their own purposes compel the Dead to remain thus, nor deny to them rebirth, if they desire it" "

I stared at him, probably even more dumbstruck than when he had turned into a wolf right in front of me. I had had similar conversations, and sometimes arguments, with various people, and more than one had quoted that passage to me. That Raven with his hissing Quenya repeated the words so correctly seemed almost absurd. Raven gave me a small smile "I only know that part because father had a hard time accepting how my people handled matters"

"Something tells me your people's way is…quite different then" I said finally.

Raven shrugged slightly "Very much. But tell me first what you did"

I bit my lip but answered anyway "We had the notion we might…be better off in regard to our people's law if we…tried to bypass it without breaking with it completely. Not bound to…taking no other…partner for ever after the other's death. And no, I did not stay alone. Not all the time"

Then why were you alone when you met me? Why are you still alone? The question was as obvious as the rain drumming on to the roof. I was grateful Raven did not ask it. He would have got us both into trouble if he had.

Neither of us needed still be alone. I shook my head at myself. What was I doing, thinking like this? We knew each other for a handful of days, we pried information from the other, but that was it. Too many unshared things lay in between. I knew so many dark elves, and that very few came even close one might consider more than company. Just as I knew no one among my own people who might even come that close.

"You dream of her. Like…you know, I dream of Fingal"

I glanced at Raven, but he did not meet my eyes. "Yes" I admitted.

"Were you…there?"

"Yes" I got up abruptly, unable to sit still any longer. Some part of me wanted to talk about this, another only wished to curl up in front of the fire and sleep. I went to the cupboard and poured mead into two glasses. Raven raised an eyebrow but took the offered glass. I leaned against the window sill once more.

"It was not the…fact that…it actually happened. I…it could have been me just the same. She…was a warrior. We had – we knew there was the risk – a great risk – to…lose each other. It was worse that it was a mean thing. A small mean dirty battle. For nothing in particular, really. We were a small company. We thought we had been ambushed. It had been only a small group of Orcs of which we killed all. But that had been only a feint. The real ambush waited a mile ahead. When we thought we had finished with them. Three of us survived. The other two wanted to go back and fetch a reinforcement before we hunted the rest of the Orcs" I shrugged "I did not wait. It took me a year, but I got them. I was not…nice"

Raven turned his glass in his hands thoughtfully "You'vegot your share of revenge"

"I don't know"

He looked up, and only then I realized that I had spoken aloud.

"I don't know" I repeated "Sometimes. And sometimes…it is very satisfying to prolong revenge. I still hunt them"

If there were orc-hunters I accompanied, it was the twins. They too could not bear to hide in Imladris and just occasionally venture out trying to turn the fortunes of the unceasing war. We did not even tell Elrond. He strongly disapproved of his sons' quest for revenge, and would have been mad if he knew I went with them.

"Is that why…you stayed with Caladur when they attacked the orcs?"

I nodded "That, too. But I had also enjoyed his clan's hospitality for a year. It would have been my duty to stay"

"Hunt with me" Raven said suddenly "Let us hunt them together"

I watched him thoughtfully for a moment. We both were aware of the tension of our unresolved relationship. Here came an opportunity to wrap it up neatly. There would be difficulties, yes. I could see them coming as clearly as clouds in a wintersky, but who cared? For once, it would be me, I realized, who would have to compromise. Raven was not the one to lecture or to pick on our different customs - if one was bound to find things strange I knew it would be me.

I took a breath and let it out slowly. Several of my friends, or maybe rather close acquaintances, in Imladris kept counselling me to set that grudge aside. To stop trying to kill whatever orc I might see. Why? Well, I could see their point, sometimes. Sometimes, I came to Imladris to forget about hunting, the wild, the orcs. But a few moons of rest, and I found that their reclusive ways, their keeping alive of ancient custom and memory, grated on me. Nothing in that helped me to cope with the world as it was. I was always grateful to be able to leave again, to join one of the scout-companies of the valley, or to go with the twins. Even the rangers would do if there were no rhevain I could join. One thing I had learned was that going alone was not favourable anymore, except if it was Faire and me. And here was Raven, and he himself gave me the opportunity to join him.

"What about the others…The ones that did not stay with you and Caladur?" Raven asked when I hesitated.

"No" I said "I am not bound to them. I was just thinking…I have never travelled with a changewolf"

He gave me wry, almost shy smile "I have never travelled with anyone except my brother or a pack of wolves. I don't know how I will get along with vach'khan tohr"

I must have looked my question, because he added "That is what my people call you. The Eldar"

"Vach'khan…?" I stumbled over the strange, guttural sound.

"Tohr. It means…it means 'the ones with…power'. 'With fire'" He made a small gesture to the blaze in the grate "You know…a few days ago I was terrified thinking I had to stay here for winter. I have always only been…wandering. Places accumulate memories. But…well, I suppose it can't be that bad. Will you go with me in spring, then?"

Raven was clutching his glass, trying not to show his tension. I realized how much it cost him to say even this. To ask for my company. I could not so much share his fear as understand it. It was weakness admitted to say one needed or desired company – it was a risk to admit.

"We will go together" I said "I don't care where, you choose. Just keep in mind I cannot blend into a wolf-pack"

He smiled another wry smile, nodding "Tell me why…do your people make it so complicated with partners?" he asked after a while. "When both you and Silmarusse knew that chances were so great losing each other, then your decision was very wise. At least in my eyes"

I returned to my seat once more. This was Arda Marred. The ideal of one to one may have worked fine in the Blessed Realm, but traditions simply did not change. Not when they should. Hell, and that from me. I had to go back there one day.

"So we thought it wise as well" I said "We thought a lot, you know, and little turned out as we hoped it would. But what about your people? You must have some…laws as well"

"Uh" Raven shrugged uncertainly "I'm not sure if you can call that laws, really. We have no decree on who chooses who as partner, and when. It is really a thing that is mostly…dictated, you would say, I think"

I frowned in puzzlement "Dictated? By whom?"

"No one. The seasons. Nature, if you will. We…if each of us could only choose a mate once, we would not exist at all now. We would not even have survived the starlit dark. I mean, there are not a terrible lot of us. Many are killed, or children die. If the partner is not killed unions hold…well, 'for ever' you would say, but…we do not wed like your people do"

"Which means? Who made your laws? Nature does not make laws"

"That could have come from Nightchaser" Raven said with a smile "Nature is a law in itself, it does not need to make them. Pack law allows only the leaders to breed. The strongest, those that are most suited to lead. Wolves are much too occupied with living and staying alive to worry about mating without the aim to breed"

"But the Valar made Arda – and nature therefore…"

"We do not only live with the wolves" Raven said quietly "You know that we are wolves to some degree. And my people do not know of the Valar. The little we know about them comes from my father. We learned from the wolves. And the way nature dictates the whole thing is simple for us – a wolf pack survives by producing offspring according to the number that died, and to the food that is available. We need not worry about food that much, really, but our children take longer to grow than a wolf cub, and they die easier. Wolves mate in winter so that the cubs are born in spring. So we mate in summer that our cubs are born in spring as well. After the snow melt. When most young are born, and prey is easy"

I shook my head slightly. We mate? And our cubs? Were they beasts? Well, they might not feel that was an insult "So we come from marriage laws to wolves"

"Yes. And the point where they meet is this: both the wolf people and the Ashi'kha mate to produce offspring. And we firstly choose a mate, and only then a partner"

"Then it would follow that your mate…is not necessarily your – partner? Nahar's balls, we are different"

Raven laughed "So said Hurondil as well. Repeatedly. But he left out the balls" he took a sip of mead "Flames. Are you going to get me drunk and hope I fall asleep and stop pestering you?"

"What, with one glass of mead?"

"You have no idea"

I pushed a jug towards him "Put water in it"

"What?"

"Put water into the mead. It makes it less – potent"

"Oh" Raven picked the heavy jug off the floor "Maybe I should put this stuff into the water instead of the other way round"

I smiled "Why don't you have a mate?"

Raven almost choked on his mead. He snorted "Are you joking? Me!"

"Well, who else is here? And why not you? I can't imagine it's because no one would want you"

He only shook his head. "Me!...I…am not for that, raising cubs. - Children" he amended as an afterthought "They have only two legs but make more trouble than a whole litter of wolves"

The first snow came early this year, a few days after that conversation. Somehow, that had driven the old memories successfully from my mind, though. I concentrated on finding some understanding of Raven, especially of the wolf. I realized he was not wolf as often as he would have wished because he thought I had a problem with that. I addressed it bluntly and after that he spent most nights as wolf. The first two evenings were strange business. It took me while to get used to finding a large, black wolf in front of the hearth or curled up on the bed. For a while, I had to touch him to be able to mind-speak him at all then. I used that time well, I think, so that it soon was no longer strange to sit down beside the wolf at night.

Then I tried mind-speaking him as I did with Faire, and suddenly we could communicate quite easily. Though the connection was rather personal it saved us much trouble and effort and so we stuck to it.

Winter deepened and more snow fell. I turned my attention to gathering green stuff. There were enough acorns to save our flour for a while and bake flat bread from acorn-mush. I found chestnuts, late berries now frosted over, wild onions and ground-mushrooms. We were quite careful with our supplies, and once snow had fallen, the wolf brought back hares or grouse almost nightly. Sometimes he brought even squirrels. He quietly took over all hunting, though the long trips exhausted him. Most days he lay on the floor before the grate, fast asleep. I suspected he hunted so much and so far just to be able to sleep.

Midwinter approached, and for the first time I felt a small pang of regret for not being in the valley. As much as I disliked prolonged festivities, the light-feast on midwinter's day was worth being there. Thinking of lights reminded me that once spring came, we would have to make one trip to Imladris to stock up all the stuff we had used here, especially candles. We had already started saving those, using fat and oil if we needed extra light beside the fire.

Raven had railed the night before at a deer that had narrowly escaped him, complaining that he was unable to make descent prey anymore. When I had suggested a hunt together he seemed surprised that I would consider the possibility. So it was two days from midwinter that I collected my own hunting-gear and called in one of the horses which I had let stray in the forest and saddled him up. Raven, or rather the black wolf joined me and we set off in the blinding bright light of cold, sunny morning. I had hunted with hounds before, and immediately found the difference between the wolf and a hound most startling. And satisfying. Of course there was no pulling on leashes, but neither any yipping or barking. The black drifted alongside or in front of us silent as a shadow which the sun had not managed to burn away. There were several tracks of deer or boar that I could have followed, but having the wolf here saved me from lots of futile stalking. He ruled out more than half the spoors we found, judging some tracks too old, others as smelling too unpromising. He finally picked out one of what he identified as a young boar and fell to tracking it.

Boar was not my favourite prey. I counted the risk to kill one, whether young or grown, much higher than the otherwise neat solution of securing a whole week's worth of meat. I leaned over my horse's neck as we passed low branches "Are you sure that is wise?" I asked doubtfully "If you want to flush that one out remember there are tusks at the other end"

'Wise, no. But I am hungry' The wolf flicked his ears, and went on. My horse was not pleased at having to go alone, but even less with the wolf flanking us. I had my hands full keeping the horse on course and silent so that we met the boar sooner than I expected. It was a small beast if compared to a sow in her prime, but vicious all the same. The black led me on a merry chase after an unsuccessful try to get his fangs into the creature. The flurry of wolf and boar had made it impossible to shoot or throw a spear. My horse forgot about his mate back at the cottage as we thundered through the snowed-in, silent forest. That was probably the first time anyone had ridden him to this speed, and he appeared to like it. I did not even have to keep him behind the boar, he followed the beast on his own. We closed the distance to the wolf and the fleeing boar after a while. The black had skilfully manoeuvred it into a small gorge, where the boar turned at bay. For a moment the wolf alone sufficed to keep it hemmed in, but when I arrived on horseback the boar knew what it was on for and charged the black. He was bowled aside with a yelping growl, but this time I had my spear ready. Still, I rode a plough-horse and though he obviously had a liking for chases, charging boars were not what he was made for. With a squeal, he twisted aside and I had to throw myself off his back if I did not want to sacrifice both my impact and our prey. The boar gave a high piercing scream as the spear hit it, and I almost jarred my shoulder because I could not land on my feet or roll to the side. I knew I had to hold on to that spear at all cost if I did not want to encounter the raging boar at the other end of it much closer. Then the wolf was there, all growls and fangs which he sank into the twisting boar's throat. The boar gave another shrill scream that stood my hair on end. I hastily pulled out my knife and moved into the melee, jabbing the blade into the rough bristles on the boars neck to severe the spine. Abruptly the screaming ended and only the wolf growled softly. I dared not push him aside from our prey, uncertain how he would react, so I flopped down gracelessly into the snow to catch my breath and rub my shoulder. The wolf retreated from the dead boar after a moment and shook himself. He, too, was panting.

"Are you alright, Raven?" I had to consciously remind myself that this was Raven. Only when the black met my eyes and I saw that they were Raven's was I sure he had understood me. There had been a very unsettling certainty in the way he had sunk those fangs into the boar.

'You had better gut him here. I will round up your horse'

I glanced around for my mount. At least I could see him some distance away and he had not gone right back to his mate. I nodded "Don't kill him"

I quickly rolled the heavy boar over and gutted it. I was about to bury the entrails under snow when the wolf returned, brushing past me and knocking his muzzle under my arm, staring upwards. I followed his gaze to the crows and ravens silently gathering in the bare branches.

'Leave it. Happy'

I took that to mean the birds would be happy and vaguely wondered if the entrails in question also seemed inviting to the black. He definitely honoured them with a greedy glance before taking off at a trot to herd the drifting horse once more into the gorge. My mount was very much displeased with the fresh blood oozing from the boar, steaming in the cold. I washed my hands with snow and fumbled with the rawhide strings I had brought, hoping to tie the boar to my saddle. By the time I had convinced the horse to just stand still long enough that he would not strangle himself with the strings my fingers were numb with cold. The sun was sinking rapidly. I had not paid so much attention to the time we had actually needed for this hunt. The boar left a furrow in the snow as we dragged him back to the cottage. I hoped it would snow soon, just to cover the tracks.

By the time we arrived the horse was exhausted from the unaccustomed work and the frenzy into which he had worked himself smelling the fresh blood, the black was still panting and I was cold and tired. Still, at least Raven and I were pleased with the day – there would be meat for nearly a week, and a quantity of fat and oil for burning. The hide Raven would tan for use as patching for his assembled clothes. He managed to sew furs and hides of almost any creature into a motley but never scraggly looking attire.

I would have been happy to hang the boar into a tree to tackle tomorrow, but it did not feel safe leaving it out there, smelling invitingly of blood. The black appeared by my side as I loosened the strings holding it to the horse 'You see to horse. I see to boar'

I laughed "Going to eat already?"

Raven seemed amused, and the wolf shook himself thoroughly 'Not today, no. I will respect your fire'

When I had finished with the horses and made amends for the day bringing my involuntary hunter an apple to add to his dinner I went round the cottage. Raven had changed, but he was barefoot and wore only a loincloth despite the bitter cold. He seemed perfectly unaffected by the snow and had already hoisted the boar to a hook in the wall and carved most of our prey to handy bits. Part of the meat we took inside to roast right away, the other part we filled into a large copper container and covered it with snow to store in the icy bathroom for a few days until we could roast that as well. We lugged the container there and roasted the meat for our evening meal on sticks over the fire in the living room. I had expected to find some spectacular bruises on Raven from the encounter with the boar, but the thick fur of the wolf had obviously kept off most of their force. There were two long scratches where the tusks had penetrated the fur, but Raven dismissed my inquiry with an impatient grunt.

We ate in comfortable silence for a while, gnawing the bones clean. I found it very pleasant that there was no need for conversation for politeness' sake and my thoughts drifted on their own. I flinched and looked up at a loud crack.

"Sorry" Raven grimaced, chagrined, holding the ends of a snapped bone. He meticulously cleaned the marrow out before tossing the ends into the fire.

"You will go, one day? Into the West?"

The question was so unexpected that I dropped my piece of meat. I leant forward to pick it up. When I sat back he met my gaze steadily. I looked away first.

"I…don't often think about that…about the West" I said finally. Why on earth did he have to bring that up now? I had neatly forgotten about it the past few days, and gladly. What hope was there that Silmarussё had been released from Mandos? She, who had gone as a warrior in her own right, and not simply followed in someone's wake? What – how – could we be what we were once? If at all. There was just no way to know.

"What is your interest in the west?" I asked instead.

"Just…so. Never mind"

"I do mind" I said "What interest has a wolf in the west?"

"Not the wolf" Raven stared into the fire "I was told, I'm not a gull" he said softly after a while "And ravens don't cross the sea"

Now that wasintriguingWas he thinking what it sounded like?

"Would you want to be?"

He shook his head "Want, no. Wonder, yes"

Gull and raven. He was not saying half of what he thought or could have said.

"You are thinking really far ahead, for a wolf, aren't you?"

Another shake of his head "The wolf does not worry, no. Speaking of which – would you mind?"

"No" I said with a smile "Of course not"

So Raven turned wolf and stretched out before the hearth, completely exhausted. I curled up in the armchair and enjoyed the knowledge that we had hunted well enough not to bother with anything for a few days, watching the firelight play on the shiny black fur. I still could not reconcile myself to this change and had to consciously remind me of the fact. When I got up to put new wood on the fire after a while the black woke. He rolled on his belly and sleepily watched a shower of new sparks rising when I poked the burning logs. He flattened his ears but remained where he was. In a hollow under the fireplace larger pieces of wood could be stored. When I pulled one out a mouse slipped through the gap and found itself cornered between the hearth and the wolf's outstretched forelegs. He and I both stared at the mouse in surprise for a moment, then the black reacted and snapped it up. He chewed twice and the mouse was gone, tail and all. I stared at him in dumbstruck surprise. He blinked, then stared back at me and licked his muzzle once.

"You…ate that!" I was angry at that incredibly stupid observation, but my mind was just running in little circles. Just a second ago I thought I had things straight, Raven, wolf, and the changewolf. I vividly remembered the wolf closing with the boar. We stared at each other another moment, then the black made a curious sound and rolled over, drumming his tail madly on the floor. Suddenly I knew that Raven would have roared with laughter, but the wolf of course had no way to show mirth. My brief surge of disgust and shock vanished, and I simply had to join him.

'There are more-' the wolf told me finally '-where that came from'

I flopped own into my chair again "Do leave them be for heaven's sake, at least while I watch!"

Chapter Notes:

The song at the beginning if "Beauty has come" by Timo Kotipelto, Waiting for the Dawn

Cursive lines in quotation marks are from The Silmarillion and Morgoth's Ring "Laws and Customs of the Eldar". I know the essay is supposed to have been written by a human meditating on eldarin customs rather than a codex of behaviour set down by the Eldar themselves, but for this story I do take the Laws&Customs literally.

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