Chapter 22

Reckless Imprudence

Raithon was frozen.

What would he do? Call for the Elven-guard? For Thranduil? Or the King? For all night to be reckless, why did Erynlith choose this night, when he was exhausted and worn out?

He looked back and forth from the palace to where the black horse had gone off to. Then, he realized that he held a bow and a quiver in his hands. There was no time, he knew that. He had to do something before something terrible happened. For the first time in years, Raithon heavily cursed in Sindarin and ran after the trail of the eager black horse, bearing its equally eager rider with him. It was this time when Raithon was convinced about that Thranduil had said about her, that she was insane. He had no idea where she was going, but if Thranduil found out that she left, Raithon would not want to face the elven-prince in his late night wrath.

"Good thing Santien keeps him locked in the infirmary", Raithon thought in relief.

Erynlith did not know, but she felt as if someone was following her trail. She looked behind her; the endless line of trees clouded her vision. There was no one there at all. Her horse Arcastar neighed and reared upon reaching the same river banks where she and Thranduil encountered the wargs. The place was abandoned; the corpses of the two wargs still lying there, and it had only been days. The uprooted tree was untouched. Warily, Erynlith dismounted Arcastar and swung the reins on a nearby tree, but never tied it. And Arcastar was obedient enough to stay behind as his rider disappeared into the trees.

She followed the northern course of the river, near the area where High Pass was adjacent. She anticipated the pack of wargs near there, and she was ready. Well, that was what she wanted to believe. It was not hard to find the tracks of the wargs, being creatures of immense size. Her travels with Gildor were bearing fruit, and she mentally noted to praise herself once she got back to Rivendell. As she walked abroad under the moonlight, she realized that she had been away from home for more than a month, and half of that time, Erestor was not with her. She had survived months of travels without him, but now, she missed him terribly.

A twig snapped behind her.

The bow was bent and an arrow notched, ready to be released.

The elf emerged from the shadow of trees, his palm raised in surrender.

Raithon.

Erynlith sighed and dropped her stance. Her task was yet to begin but her heart was already pounding. It was a relief that it was only Raithon. He had much quivers on his back, and at least two bows on both hands. Her eyebrow arched at his strange appearance, wondering why the Captain of the Guards had so many weapons in his person. He had two daggers behind his back and another hidden within his boot. It was almost fearful to walk beside him; he was a like a walking armory: dangerous and unpredictable. But his face was kind and welcoming, the look of distress was gone, and he was also relieved to see her.

"What are you doing so late at night? You know you could have chosen a better timing." The Sindarin Captain approached her with a warm smile.

She smiled back. His company was better than having to deal with Santien and her grumpiness. "Thranduil said someone had to finish the wargs off, and that you and the Elven-guard were busy. I have a lot of time in my hands, tra-lil-lay." But it was not all. Her guilt of putting Thranduil in danger haunted her, and she felt guiltier every time she saw his bandaged hands. He had assured her countless times that his hands were no problem at all, that the pain was gone, but it never assured her.

"He won't be happy if you go on your own," Raithon warned, but his smile was ever present.

"Oh, does that mean you won't leave me be?" Erynlith pressed, feeling slightly mischievous to play along with the captain. She had initially planned on doing this alone, whether it would cost her more than just an injured right wrist, but it was worth the try.

Raithon shook his head, walking towards her. "I have two bows and three quivers, see? I think you need me now more than ever. Just think of this as one of our archery sessions, and that we're playing a game."

"What game?" She gave him a curious look as they advanced into the darkness of the forest.

"The one who gets to kill more wargs win."

She smiled. "Bring it on, captain, tra-lo."

As they walked further, Erynlith could not help but sing under her breath, silently wishing she had brought her harp along with her.

*"So still on her own

An elf alone

Singing as before

With flowers in hair

And voice fair

And slippers frail."

Afterwards, the walk was silent and full of caution; Raithon had his bow and arrows ready at every step. From the river bank, they walked all the way towards the north, still following the Great River. The mountains of Greenwood were already on their sights, and the captain knew the wargs rested there. There was a forest clearing on the other end. He pressed a finger against his lips, indicating Erynlith to be quiet, and then pointed to the trees. Erynlith nodded in understanding. They climbed the trees as stealthily as they could, until they reached the very top of the trees. They moved from trees to trees, jumping on the large branch to another until the forest clearing was on sight.

Indeed, the wargs rested there. Some twenty of them, brown-furred and snarling as they slept. There were even a few cubs lying on the ground, scooting ever closer to their parents, but both elves knew this pack had to be terminated. Raithon guided Erynlith into notching her arrow, and indicated for her to aim at the largest of wargs. Erynlith finally understood. This task was of stealth, not speed or strength. What could two elves do against twenty immense wargs? The woodland trees were their comfort, their sanctuary, until the pack was finished.

"The large one," Raithon whispered, pointing his finger down to the sleeping brown warg at the head of the pack. "The alpha, that one."

Again, Erynlith nodded and carefully aimed her arrow.

"Aim for the head," Raithon instructed again. He notched his own arrow and released, hitting a different warg on the head. The creature let out a soft moan, and the elf knew it was dead. It would be easy to dispatch sleeping wargs than the wake ones. He continued his stealthy pursuit, dispatching the wargs one by one. But he saved the alpha for the last, waiting for Erynlith to strike it.

Her bow was shaking, just as her knees and fingers. She did not know why, but she could not release the arrow. Raithon was watching her with patience, wondering why his companion was hesitating. Almost all the wargs were finished, even the little ones, and the alpha and some others were left. But Erynlith feared. What if she missed? What if the alpha was awoken and attacked them? What if Raithon had to deal with her mistake, and then get injured afterwards? She glanced at him. Despite her brief time in Greenwood, she knew they were friends, like how she was friends with Santien, Amardís, and even Thranduil. Then, she remembered. What if Thrandiul blamed her for what would happen to his friend?

She felt a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Raithon was smiling yet again.

"You can do it," he whispered, guiding her hands back to the bow and to her previous aim. "Shoot now while the wind is steady."

She nodded and aimed again. She took a deep breath, the bow's string brushing against her lips and cheek, and her fingers tapped the limb of the bow. When she knew she was ready, the arrow was fired. Things went smoothly, until the wind from the north howled. The moving arrow dwindled and instead of the head, it pierced the alpha's ear. The warg's eyes shot open and it howled menacingly. Its cries echoed in the forest and wakened the remaining members of its pack.

In an instant, Raithon went to his stance. He pulled Erynlith back onto the tree, shadowing themselves under the cluster of dried leaves. His hand covered her mouth to suppress a gasp coming out. He felt Erynlith shaking under his touch, the horror of her mistake crawling there unseen. Below them, the wargs growled and howled, sniffing on the ground for their ambushers. Slowly, Raithon withdrew his hand from her mouth and motioned that she stay quiet. She nodded, and he crawled back to see the wargs with his own eyes.

Checkmate.

The large alpha jumped from its hind legs, mouth wide open, as it was ready to tear the elf captain apart. The jump was an inch short, and Raithon gasped, scrambling back to Erynlith. The wargs continued to pounce around the tree, clawing on the large tree trunk. The elves felt the tree shaking and the trunk wavering with the force. The alpha jumped again and bit off a large section of the tree, exposing the elves behind the foliage. In that instant, Raithon pulled Erynlith by the hand and jumped off to a another tree. The wargs shifted and jumped again. Raithon's foot was caught against the breaking branches, and he fell in the middle of the raging wargs.

"Raithon!" Erynlith called out from the tree, her eyes searching for the captain. He fell flat on his back, moaning, and then rolled out of the way when a warg attempted to crush him with a large clawed paw.

The tree shook again, and Erynlith gripped a branch. The alpha was roaring with anger and rattled the tree trunk even more, and the trunk let out creaking noises. Not long after, the tree fell and Erynlith had to jump off. She fell hard on the ground. She moaned and tried to grip her bow back.

Not far from her, Raithon screaming her name. He was cornered by three wargs, pressing him against the uprooted trees, but his arrows were all spent, and those in his quiver were scattered on the ground. Quickly, Erynlith picked one and aimed, luckily hitting one warg on the rear. The creature howled and turned to her. Then, Raithon was back on his feet, tackling the two other wargs before running past them. He collected his bow and arrow back, and both elves continued firing.

"This is just like archery training all over again!" Raithon laughed merrily as the three wargs finally fell dead on the spot.

Erynlith panted and turned to him worriedly. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

Raithon examined himself, and then shook his head. "Not that I can think of."

They collected the arrows again until the alpha returned to chase them off. It bared its fangs against them, saliva dropping in the process, but Raithon shrugged it off and gestured for Erynlith.

"All yours."

She looked at him incredulously. "What?"

"You can finish it off while it's still not moving."

The alpha warg sprinted onto its feet as Erynlith panicked to get some arrows. Beside her, Raithon was just calmly standing here. Just as the warg pounced for the kill, Erynlith fired an arrow and hit the throat. The warg fell down, embedding the arrow deeper into its throat, and it gagged for air. It writhed and howled and clawed the ground until it stopped breathing.

Erynlith panted and dropped the bow.

It was finally over.

Raithon congratulated her, smiling and laughing at her success. Really, she did not know why the captain was too optimistic about it. Perhaps that was how Raithon really was, energetic and laidback for the Elven-guard's Captain.

After a short while of rest, the two elves agreed to march back to the palace. It would be a long walk, since they had left Arcastar near the river banks. The Sun was rising when they reached the borders of the Elvenking, and the guards from the outpost crowded them. The guards told them about what happened, that the King and the Prince found out about their little mission when Arcastar returned, rider-less.

The elf guards quickly brought them back to the palace where the King was waiting. And Erynlith gulped, readying herself for what immediate punish the King would bestow on her.

Thranduil could care less if he was practically shoving the people in front of him. He had heard enough to even ask for questions. When one of the elf guards rushed in the King's throne room to announce the arrival of the Captain of the Guards, Prince Thranduil literally pounced on his feet and rushed outside, not letting the guard to finish his announcement. The Silvan elves who blocked his way made him irritable, but as soon as they found out that it was the Prince who was passing, they instantly made way. He was, in no time, in the front line of the crowd, his blue eyes quickly catching a glimpse of Erynlith.

In an instant, she cowered behind Raithon, tightly clutching on his sleeve as Thranduil stomped towards them, seething. And Raithon straightened up for the girl's defense, meeting his friend's icy gaze. The Prince glared at him, but without words, he quickly snatched Erynlith from her grasp on the captain and admitted her into a bone-crushing embrace. She gaped, and so did Raithon. But the situation was not just any other of his games anymore.

Thranduil was shaking, and Erynlith felt more horrible.

His still-bandaged hands clutched her shoulder and waist tightly, his head buried on the crook of her neck. She felt uncomfortable, especially with all the Silvan folk watching them, whispering among themselves, but she knew Thranduil did not care.

"How dare you…" He began in broken, sharp whispers. "How dare you… leave the palace without me…" He was still shaking uncontrollably. "How dare you leave and make me worry, you disgusting trouble…"

Erynlith could not answer. Slowly, Thranduil broke the embrace and held her face between his hands. He studied her face, her body, if she was hurt or anything, and he sighed in relief.

"Someone had to finish them off, tra-la-," she sang simply, trying to sound casual and cheerful.

At that remark, he smiled weakly. "You are so troublesome. I think I might just tie you to the bed or something." They both laughed, and Thranduil brushed his lips against her brows, sighing deeply. He embraced her yet again, gentler this time, and then kissed her hair.

Behind them, King Oropher arrived, followed by Celairis and the other counselors. The King's eyes softened at the sight, and asked someone to call Santien. The healer arrived right away, assessing Raithon if he was injured, and was surprised and relieved that he was not. After a while, Thranduil pulled Erynlith back into the palace, looking for her attendants, and they both proceeded to her room. Amardís and Santien arrived to check on Erynlith, and the Prince stood by to watch them.

"She's not hurt," Santien whispered to him while Erynlith and Amardís were talking. "Just a scratch maybe, but she's fine. You have to give her some rest, Thranduil. Don't keep her up too late." She was glaring, and the Prince laughed it off.

When Santien and Amardís had left, no words fell between Erynlith and Thranduil. They never had to speak with each other. With just glances and gestures, they knew that they needed. He sat on her bedside, occupying a small chair that was provided, as Erynlith sank under the covers. The night was cold, and she shuddered. And Thranduil kept on watching her, waiting until she fell asleep from the silence. Soon, she dozed off.

He gently raked his fingers through her umber hair and watched the light rise and fall of her chest under the covers. His eyes fell on her bandaged right wrist, comparing his hands to it.

"You are the most unbelievable," he whispered and kissed her forehead.

He would stay there with her, and the thought of greeting her in the morning excited him.

A few days later after that incident, rumors began to spread in the whole of Greenwood, much to Erynlith's annoyance and to Thranduil's amusement. The Silvan folk had been whispering about Erynlith and Raithon's stunt with the warg pack. Rumors had gone too far, and the imaginative Silvan had come up with such a name that made Erynlith cringe whenever she heard it.

Erfaron.

And she regarded it as ridiculous. She was not alone when she had faced the wargs; Raithon was with her! But no, the Silvan insisted in calling her Erfaron, and it was much amusing for Thranduil, knowing her great aversion to nicknames.

Adding fuel to the fire, Raithon had exaggerated the story of their midnight hunt and insisted that Erynlith had taken care of all the wargs by herself, befitting the name Erfaron all the more. She would have confronted the Captain of the Guards about it, but whenever she left the palace, the Silvan would crowd around her and call her over and over again.

One day, it made the Prince decide not to call her by any other names than that.

"So…" Thranduil simpered at her, grinning widely. "…Erfaron, huh?"

"Shut up, Thranduil."

Erfaron - Lone Hunter

*Little Princess Mee - J.R.R. Tolkien (With little revisions)

Next Chapter: The Host of the Alliance finally arrives in Greenwood. Big decisions have to be made, and fast.

Author's Notes: I rise from the one-and-a-half hell week in college! It was difficult, arranging papers and doing research, and stuff. Finally, it has come into an end. I can update chapters every once in a while, so remember to always check for news!

Here we have Erynlith and Raithon doing some action stuff, because I was looking for an excuse to have Raithon in action. Elves always do fights so beautifully.

*Evangeline Pond - I was talking about Raithon, but then again, Tauriel is an awesome Captain of the Guards as well!

*Rousdower - Before you prance away, could you get me Thorin so I can pinch his cheeks as well?

*Asmodeus Black - Aw, thank you! I hope you enjoyed this chapter!