All the characters seen, except Erestor, are mine. He, the world, and the greater situations in this story were first written about by J. R. R. Tolkien.

This story is not meant to make any money. Please just read and enjoy. :)

Mellolaes smirked on her walk to the door. As she opened it, the elleth sent a coy look to the face frowning at her from a pillow. Her patient growled in a sour voice. "You have returned."

Mellolaes bit her bottom lip to keep in the laughter. "I have. Did you want me?"

"You left a task unfinished, elleth."

The Silvan's eyes widened, but her mouth kept twitching into a smile. "Did I?"

"Yes. Now that you've begun it, you must finish your tale, or I'll report you to Lord Elrond as a servant who leaves tasks unfinished a habit unworthy of you by the way."

Mellolaes chortled as she sat on the stool next to the head of Erestor's bed. There she continued her story grinning widely.

. . .

Celuant awoke to the sound of words spoken in the Silvan tongue. Thus far, he'd only heard his new companions speaking Sindar. Now, they spoke softly a language he hadn't bothered to learn. It was close enough to Sindar, and even Noldor, for him to identify many terms. Still, he realized he'd have been able to understand even more if he'd ever tried learning their language.

He'd never thought, until now, he'd go far enough south to run into the people of the Singing Woods. Upon reaching these shores, he'd stayed near his enemy's fortress. His purpose had been to keep their foe there if possible. He'd always thought if he'd somehow run into a green elf, they would be able to converse in Sindar.

Perhaps, he'd be accompanying this group to their home. If so, there would be even more conversations in his near-future he'd overhear, but only partially understand. He'd be overwhelmed by an alien tongue along with everything else.

Of course, he hadn't firmly decided yet. Would he truly go with them to the Singing Woods? Would he place himself entirely in their hands? How much more wrath would their joint enemy pour out on their people if he found his escaped prey with them? Was it fair he allow them to take that risk for him? They'd offered, but still ... Was it right to accept?

Despite the kindness they'd already shown him, Celuant felt a squirm of irritation at these strangers. They were having a private conversation without him and about him. He'd recognized his new name in their words. He was being left out intentionally. They were speaking some strides from where he lay in a language they had reason to believe he wouldn't understand. This was how they invited him to join them?

He rose to his feet and walked to the group sitting cross-legged on the ground. He noted they'd picked a place upwind of the nearby pile of rocks. As he neared it himself, he noticed a definite, discomforting odor. The heat of the sun, which would have kept the orcs at bay while they were alive, now made their forms even more offensive.

Celuant glanced up at the sphere shining in the sky. How high it was. How long he must have slept. They had been right about his weariness. This made him no happier.

The Noldo stopped just outside the ring of Green-garbed elves and crossed his arms. They hadn't bothered to fall silent at his approach. Lathwinn finally shut her mouth and met his gaze over the head of one of her brothers. The others quieted and turned their heads slightly or greatly as needed to look at him.

He frowned down upon them. "What were you speaking of, you hoped I would neither overhear nor understand?"

Lathwinn tilted her head to the side. "We thought it for your own good. You had obviously exhausted your strength over the last few days and needed your rest."

Celuant kept his arms crossed, but he sank down to sit cross legged just outside their circle. Lathwinn had a clear view of them between two of her brothers. "I was under the impression you wanted me to join you and your kin. Yet, I am being left out of a joint discussion among all of you?"

The elleth gave him healers' stares. Lathwinn's older brothers sat on either side of their aunt and sister. The eldest, sitting at Sarnin's side, frowned back at Celuant. The second-eldest glared at the Noldo from his sister's right hand. "We were just discussing balancing your good with that of our people."

Celuant kept his expression and tone neutral at the sound of these words, but his reply was softer. "You mean balancing protecting me with shielding your own people from our joint enemy."

"No."

The Noldo's frown deepened. He turned his attention to the oldest ellon there. Lastannan looked grim, but not as hostile as his brother. The ancient ellon spoke low, but evenly, almost kindly to the Noldo. "Last night, my sister noted the presence of a warg in the distance. Likely, the scent of the dead orcs gathered together, where the winds play, drew him here."

The next eldest ellon cut into his brother's speech "Lathwinn thinks it is a very big warg."

Their sister sighed softly, and gave a nod.

The Noldo let his voice take on a bored tone. "I imagine I've seen bigger."

Lathwinn looked up and met his gaze. "No doubt, but this one presents a dilemma to us … and to you."

"Does it?"

The second eldest Green ellon sneered at him. "Has it not occurred to you, the warg could be a danger to our people if allowed to wander, especially after digging up and feasting on a whole pile of orc-corpses? He could become incredibly strong after such a feast!"

The Noldo tried to look unimpressed, but he understood their worry. He and his brothers would have attempted to kill any such enemy that neared their fort. And these folks were without walls, without armor, and without swords. He had been taken captive despite having armor, swords, and walls to return to at the end of patrol. The ellon rubbed his scars as he mused for a moment, and then asked, "What do you normally do under such circumstances?"

"We wait the beast out, hiding until he shows himself. Then we shoot from cover, so he dies without knowing why."

The Noldo's head jerked up. His eyebrows rose. This seemed a sneaky, cowardly, and dishonorable strategy to him. Orcs had caught him in such a trap. But … what else had these elves, but cloaks of green and loosed arrows? They had no fortresses, no fi … no for …

The ellon ceased pressing those lines of thought and shivered at them instead. He could not even think the names of nor form the images of those ... "things" anymore without fear. What a useless ellon he'd become. His enemy had found the perfect punishment for him indeed.

His mind was snapped out of these musings by Sarnin's voice. "We have you with us now. And we do not know if you are capable of surviving such a delay in our return journey."

Celuant opened his eyes wide, raised his head, and blinked. "You mean … you worry for 'my' health. Enough to leave quarry un-hunted?"

He stared at them. Most looked back with firm and unapologetic faces. Ranthalion's face was a snarl. His arms remained crossed over his chest.

The Noldo's brows lowered fully as he next asked, "What is it, exactly, you fear?"

"We had no idea we'd find you," Lathwinn began. "We brought food for ourselves and a little extra in case of delays …"

"But you need to regain much flesh," Sarnin finished. "And probably need special food to recover your full strength."

Celuant looked away. His frown fully twisted his mouth. "Make no special plans for me. You have done more than enough already."

"That hardly seems fair," the second youngest and seemingly quietest of the green elves broke in. "You are starving and have been through much already. Some of us can escort you home while the others stay to hunt this new prey as I've already suggested." He looked pointedly at his second-eldest brother.

Ranthalion turned and glared back. "That will divide our numbers and leave him and those who go with him more vulnerable as 'I've' already stated!"

Melarbeth seemed unafraid as he met his brother's gaze. "They will not be so very vulnerable especially if Lathwinn is one of them, which would be perfect. For, she is an excellent healer as well as the best lookout and finest huntress among our people."

"Which is why she should stay here to help slay the beast!"

"Then 'I' will go with him and Aunt Sarnin instead."

The older brother raised his voice. "You have the least traveling and hunting experience here save for 'him' and Manpalan!"

Their youngest brother scowled at them both. "Hey!"

Manppalan's two brothers ignored him and kept staring at each other instead. As his older brother glared at him, Melarbeth continued their argument with a shrug. "One of us needs to get our guest home."

"I assure you I've been starved far longer than the journey to your home will take. I can survive an added day while you wait to hunt this warg together."

Both elleth turned their stares from the arguing brothers to the Noldo and raised an eyebrow each. Even the green ellon stared at him skeptically. Ranthalion's face was also slightly flushed and his eyes were squinted. Melarbeth's brows were raised, but his face showed little expression otherwise. Lastannan's gaze was intense, and his arms folded, but his posture seemed relaxed unlike his youngest brother's. Manpalan, after looking to their guest, searched the faces of his elder kin each in turn his eyes darting about like a minnow's lithe form in the water.

Celuant looked blandly back upon them all. "What might this creature do to you and your people if you do not kill it?"

Lathwinn turned and looked her oldest brother in the face. He looked back at her. Their aunt bowed her head between them as their gazes met over her head. After a moment, they both looked back at Celuant. Lathwinn's eyes crinkled at their corners with concern. "The escaped or released servants of Morgoth don't 'usually' enter our woods. We are many and the land is too rich and bright for them to feel easy there."

"But sometimes," her oldest brother continued, "the plentiful prey draws them in, particularly on nights when the moon and stars are obscured by clouds. The boldest, strongest, and biggest are then particularly prone to approaching our borders."

"And," Lathwinn continued "the creatures who wonder out of our woods and into the canyons, whether they are after clearer, colder water or they are chased out by stronger neighbors are particularly prone to getting eaten or ravaged by Morgoth's escaped or released servants then …"

"Which, in turn only makes the monsters more likely to enter the actual woods after more prey …" her oldest brother finished.

Celuant nodded. "Yet, you argue about staying to hunt this warg."

Sarnin's head shot up. She scowled at him. "We think of you. You are weak … for now, but you could be made strong again! You could help us hunt other prey later, be far more help to us, our people, and our animals and trees then than you can possibly be dead!"

Celuant shrugged. "I am of little consequence in such matters without my weapons of choice."

Lathwinn sat up straighter and stared hard at him. "That's not true! You can learn to fight with other weapons. I have. We all have! None of us were born with a bow or knife in our hands."

Three out of her four brothers nodded calmly. Ranthalion looked away with a grimace as if reluctant to admit this. Celuant swept his gaze across their faces. Then he shrugged. "One day means nothing to me. I have searched long and hard in dark tunnels for far longer than I will have been without food by tomorrow night and tomorrow's dawn. Do what you will."

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ScribeofHeroes