Category: Tolkien-Universe
Rating: M
Couples: -
Warnings: AU, blood, mentions of torture, character death, Loss of bodily autonomy (no Non-con)
Chapter: 18
Copyright: Characters & places © By Tolkien Estate, Plot & OC´s © by me
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Draugluin grunted, rolling onto his side. During the day, even the thick walls of the house could not keep out the heat, leaving the wolves confined to their part of it.
He could hear the younger elf-pup hammering away downstairs, and could just spot the oldest attending his master. The elder pup was probably also working, but their type of work wasn't really the type to be easily heard.
He grunted again when some of the newest throw clambered onto him, utterly carefree. Since they were his, he let them, splooting on the cool stones to give them an easier time of it.
Opposite of him, the two that had been pups when they traveled south were still working on their courtship. It had taken them a good while to even get to this point, but he supposed they had to.
His ears perked up when hearing hooves.
"Master." The elf-stud had also heard, turning his attention to the stairs.
"Mmhhmmm." The red-head waved him away, so by the time the servant arrived at the foot of the stairs with the goat, he was being waited on. After all, the Men were not allowed on the actual top-floor.
It was a well-fed beast, following the elf meekly into the wolf-pen. He growled softly at the smell of herbs that surrounded their dinner.
"Apologies." Well, he couldn't blame the elf, he supposed. He shifted slowly, raining pups down to solid floor so he could get up. Couldn't have a full hunt inside the building.
The golden one attached the rope to one of the hanging posts, then withdrew back to their Master's side.
They'd have to start hunting once the throw was older, because a goat would not be enough anymore then. He let them eat first, since they needed the sustenance and he could do without for a while longer.
"My Lord." The Steward was the Secondborn that came perhaps closest to getting on the top-floor, stopping a few steps below the top whenever needed.
"Yes?" The Lord of the lands looked up from what he was working on.
"It is evening-time. Are we dismissed?" Draugluin snorted, padding over the small bridge into the main room. He admired the female, as she only mildly flinched as he walked past her to his Master. Whenever the Secondborn returned to their little village that had sprouted up across from the river, the wolves would be able to leave for the night.
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Huan was pacing the perimeter of the traveling-camp. Well, traveling-camps, as there were two campfires, one with the original planned group, and another with his elf's sire.
At least they were in talking-distance by now?
They were following the trail he'd managed to find at the mouth of the cave south along the mountains. He did not like how old it was, nor did he like what other kinds of smells were mixing in at certain points. The scent of wolf as he'd found it in the island-keep, sulfur and ash.
He stopped briefly by the trail they'd have to follow in the morning, once the horses had their rest. Exhaustion clung to the trail, something that had grown steadily worse over time and which he had not yet brought to attention.
If the spots of more intense smells were any indication, the journeys between points of rests were long and far and this group was only catching up because horses were able to travel faster than elves on foot.
And clearly, they had been on foot.
"Noticed something?" His silver elf asked, walking up with some rabbit-meat.
He huffed softly, accepting his own dinner. If he told his elf, he knew he would push the group to even greater speed. There was too much risk if they went fast; he could lose the trail while running, or they could run into a trap.
It had happened before, that a trail had lead into a trap made by the enemy.
"Mmh..." His elf crouched down, trying to see anything. But the long time since they had to have passed here meant that all was left was a faint hint of smell, of an imprint of elvish presences in nature.
Huan huffed again, nosing at the silver-haired male, nudging him in the direction of the camp.
"It's been so long." The eldest of the middle trio muttered, not really resisting, but not moving with him either. "Are we not taking too long?"
"Celeg." The red-haired brother called. "Come rest. The earlier we rest, the earlier we can leave in the morrow."
Celegorm only briefly looked south longingly before returning to the campfire and slipping into his bedroll.