(*)

The Sindar leaders stood together in the smallest of the finished buildings at Amon Lanc, which they'd taken to claiming for their purposes during the day. At night elves slept here, almost elbow-to-elbow with nothing but their sleeping pallets and fresh rushes between them and the cracked stone floor.

Still , Thranduil consoled himself as he listened to the patter of a cold, light rain outside, at least we are under a real roof now .

"Her advice is to find the wolves and kill them before they can attack," Thranduil told his father, finishing his report on the foraging venture that had gone wrong at the end.

Emrys nodded in approval.

Oropher frowned. "And risk our fighters against a full pack? Better to pick them off a few at a time, as they reveal themselves."

"She warns us that they grow bolder in winter, when they are hungry," Thranduil said.

"Then they also grow weaker in winter, and will be easier to kill," Oropher said. "They cannot attack us here. Wolves cannot scale our wall, even if our fortifications are only half built. They are not orcs."

"Your neighbors do not have such a wall," Emrys reminded him. " Tywysoges Rauwen has been wise to ban your people from visiting her village except by special invitation. An obvious path between you and them could be deadly. Even so, your neighbors visit often. If wolves come to Amon Lanc and cannot enter here, they may find a scent and make their way to the neighboring village. Do not forget that you are under oaths of mutual assistance, Tywysog Oropher."

"Surely we can handle some wolves. We are warriors of Doriath," Thranduil said. He was in a foul mood. He could only swallow so much pride before it began to grow sour in his stomach.

Oropher eyed his son. "We do not even know how many wolves there are," he said. "Nor how close their den is to us. Surely we should scout them out first. Or does our neighbor expect that I will leave this keep undefended while we search the forest blindly for these beasts?"

Thranduil bowed to his father, conceding the point. He did not even know why he was defending Rauwen to his father so much. Nothing was sufficient to please her, even after he'd humbled himself a thousand times, deferring to her at every turn. Let Oropher handle her.

"She did not demand haste, did she, Lieutenant?" Emrys asked. "She only said she would come to speak with us soon and relay her knowledge from her own hunt. That may well shed light on whether it is safe to wait."

Thranduil shrugged in agreement.

"Well. Then I await her advice. She is welcome to come and share it," Oropher said. "We are warned again and again that winter is on our doorstep. There is more I would like to accomplish here before the ground freezes and we can build no more until spring. I need every set of hands we have."

"I am no general, but I would tend to agree," Elraënor said. "If we cannot finish at least one more shelter before the storms come, we will be very cramped all winter."

"I am certain your people will attend to your comfort, my Lady," Emrys said.

Thranduil glared at the bard. He could see his father's nostrils flaring in anger, but Oropher held his tongue.

Son, take care with your temper, his mother warned him. I can handle this magician perfectly well.

Elraënor nodded her head at Emrys. "I am touched by your concern for me, Master Harper," she said calmly. "But I am content to live as my people live, and no better. Nonetheless, close quarters and low morale are a danger of their own, would you not agree? Comfortable elves are peaceful elves."

Emrys bowed to Elraënor, nodding his head in concession.

Thranduil resisted the urge to smirk. Unlike some people, he had self-discipline and could stop himself before he succumbed to outbursts and insults.

"The work is over for today, though. Surely it is time to eat," Tuilinher said gently. "I was thinking of sharing another of my favorite Silvan tales this evening. I have finished translating, finally. I managed to keep both rhyme and meter in the Sindarin version this time!"

"That is quite welcome," Elraënor assured her with a fond smile. "We are so enjoying your efforts to convey the fullness of your people's traditions, Journeyman. I have heard it said many times around this keep."

"Ah, and now I am filled with regret," Gilroch said, nodding to Tuilinher. "I have grown fond of these Silvan tales of yours. I will be sorry to miss it, but I am on guard this evening."

Tuilinher smiled at him. "You flatter me, Lieutenant. I will have to tell it to you another time, then."

Gilroch bowed. Elraënor and Emrys both smiled. The room seemed a little less chilly, but Thranduil only felt more irritated. Even in the heart of their new home, at every moment, they had to make nice with the wood elves.

"Yes, I think that is quite enough for tonight," Oropher said, eyeing Emrys. He turned towards the door, beckoning the group of leaders to follow him to join the clan for food.

"I am glad your venture was reasonably successful, still," he told Thranduil as they began walking. "Speaking of morale, every bit of food we can gather is very welcome. Fed elves are peaceful elves."

Indeed, thought Thranduil.

He kept turning one thought over and over in his mind. He had seen a deer track breaking off into the woods not far from where Rauwen had left him to bring his people home. He'd not pointed it out to her.

We are entirely capable of feeding ourselves, he thought. And I do not need a minder to hunt a hart on our own lands, whatever she may think.

They had provided for themselves on the way to the Greenwood, and he was certain they could do it now. Whether Rauwen—who he was sick of thinking about so much, when she thought so little of him—recognized it or not, they had all grown in skill. He had grown in skill.

He did not need Rauwen or her 'children of the forest' anymore, he thought ferociously. Their working together was a matter of politics, not of necessity.

He sat stony-faced through dinner and Tuilinher's entertainment that night. When he lay on his pallet, his mind resisted rest.

As the first gray light of predawn filtered into the empty hall that morning, he rose quietly, gathered his hunting gear, and snuck down the hillside, which was slick with frost.

He would just look, he told himself. His father would hardly miss him if he was back in time for the morning meeting to set tasks for the day.

(*)

Rauwen woke early out of long habit and oriented herself to her surroundings. Her ears were cold. The chill had a bitter edge to it for the first time this year.

An early winter, just what we need, Rauwen thought. She released a light groan of frustration.

Sûlwen shifted under her arm, grasping Rauwen's hand so she could not pull away.

"'S cold,' Sûlwen muttered.

"Yes," Rauwen whispered. "I really should go straight to Amon Lanc today."

Sûlwen's eyes fluttered open. "Do not dare!" She said. "You promised to take some time to yourself today."

"That was yesterday, when I thought we had at least another fortnight before winter began to set in," Rauwen said.

Sûlwen turned over and frowned at her. It was an expression Rauwen saw on her friend's face so rarely that it looked foreign to her.

"I do not care," Sûlwen huffed. "And neither should you. After your performance on this last venture, I would think you would be more worried about losing your temper when you speak with Oropher next. I know your patience with him is running short. And how would that help us? Hmm?"

Rauwen gave her friend a sullen glare.

"Go," Sûlwen demanded again. "Do not even bother with the morning gathering. I will tell Erisdir where you are and he will understand. He and your captains can handle sorting out the clan's tasks for one day."

Rauwen's eyes narrowed. She shifted away from Sûlwen, untangling herself to rest on one elbow and look down at her.

"You do not speak to Erisdir about me, do you?" Rauwen asked. It had never occurred to her that Sûlwen might betray her confidence in such a way.

Sûlwen sat up with an angry squawk. "Rauwen, I cannot believe you! You have been spending too much time around Oropher and Emrys if you doubt even me! I speak to him no more than anyone else in this clan. Less, actually. I know you are often unhappy with him, so I keep some distance now."

Rauwen winced. She reached out to Sûlwen in spirit, offering an apology where words could not twist themselves and be misunderstood.

"Forgive me," she, pulling Sûlwen into a fierce hug.

Sûlwen looked up at her balefully.

" Heulwen ," Rauwen said, appealing to her friend's better nature. It had been a joke between them for centuries, that Sûlwen was such a sunny person, and yet had been named after the rain. "I have much to apologize to you for. I have never once doubted you before, that was unfair of me. And now I learn you distance yourself from our clan's only Cyfarwydd out of loyalty to me? Where can you go, then, when you need kind counsel?"

"To you, of course," Sûlwen said.

"Of course," Rauwen agreed automatically, while something twisted in her gut. Her friend must be right, she concluded. She was more unbalanced by the stress of the year than she had realized.

Rauwen sighed, gave Sûlwen a last, fierce, embrace, and extracted herself from her furs.

"What are you doing?" Sûlwen asked warily.

"If I am to sneak into the forest for a day before the clan notices, I had better get going," Rauwen said, opening a chest to shake out her winter cloak for the first time since last spring.

"Oh thank the Green Lady!" Sûlwen said. She flopped back onto the mattress with a melodramatic sigh. "I am going to get some more sleep, then."

"You have to tell Erisdir why I am missing," Rauwen reminded her.

"He can wait a little," Sûlwen said slyly, snuggling down into the warm furs.

Rauwen snickered as she pulled her clothes on.

(*)

Rauwen drummed her fingers on the thick tree branch she lounged on, high off the ground.

She was bored.

The first few hours in the woods, she'd felt almost giddy at how free she was to wander around, following this or that tree song, exploring her territory not on an errand, but simply for the love of it.

She'd gone to the lake early, before her people would have a chance to arrive, enjoying the stillness. The summer birds were gone. The surface of the lake was misty and still without paddling ducks or leaping fish. She had it all to herself. She'd gone for a bracing swim before hurrying off, gleeful at the thought of evading everyone.

Sûlwen had been right, the trees were going to sleep. In fact, more of them than Rauwen might have guessed were already sluggish, suggesting the morning frosts had been seeping deeper into their roots than normal at this time of year. Only the pines were still chatty, although even those respected the silence of winter, keeping their voices close among their own stands and clusters.

The wildlife was also still that morning, opting to stay in their nests until the sun might have more of a chance to melt the frost away. (They would be disappointed. The cold did not lift as the day wore on.)

She considered making her way home, but the idea of arriving early in the afternoon after so dramatically disappearing for 'a day' made her cringe with embarrassment. Not to mention, she might have to suffer the indignity of being scolded by Sûlwen, or even worse, by Erisdir, who might give her a look of pity that would make her want to throttle him. She had no doubt the bard would be reading much into her sudden absence, even without Sûlwen divulging personal details to him.

No, better to sneak in under cover of darkness and begin fresh in the morning, as if nothing had happened at all, she thought. Her clan would not ask why, and she would not tell them. It was apparently obvious she needed some rest.

However. She now had time to fill, and no ideas of how she wanted to fill it, other than that sitting there idly, thinking over the same problems that occupied her normal days, was clearly not the point of this impromptu holiday. She considered eating a little more of the seed cake she'd brought along, but she wasn't actually hungry.

A sharp croak interrupted her pondering. Rauwen looked up to see a crow staring down at her. She recognized it — one of the murder that roamed the border of her land and Oropher's. They could be useful messengers and scouts sometimes, but this particular crow had a penchant for making trouble until it bullied a food offering out of someone. Sûlwen was one of its favorite victims, because she was a pushover.

"Oh, shoo," Rauwen said, waving her hand at it like a naughty child. "I am not giving you a snack. You are more than capable of providing for yourself."

The crow hopped down a branch. It looked at her and cawed again, loudly.

"Hush! What a racket, you scoundrel! I am not the only one who will notice!"

The crow leapt up and flew at her, screaming. Rauwen jumped to her feet, balancing on the springy branches, high above the crow flew forward to the next tree and screamed at her again. This was not normal behavior. It wasn't teasing her.

"Do you need help?" Rauwen asked. She tried to think of help as an abstract concept, offering it as a question in her mind-tree-speech to the bird. Elves and the more clever birds were often capable of communicating that way, although it was neither party's own language.

The crow cawed and took another leaping half-flight further in the direction it seemed to be drawing her.

Well, she told herself. You wanted something to do. Helping a crow was good luck, too. They were smart birds. They understood trades and alliances: good friends to have in the Greenwood.

So Rauwen followed the bird, which led her branch by branch, moving steadily west, looking over its wing at her to make sure she was following.

Rauwen reached the border of her territory and Oropher's and paused. He'd opened his lands to her and her people, but that was for the purpose of mutual hunting and gathering ventures, not roaming about exploring on the whim of a corvid.

The crow shrieked at her.

"Shhh! You monster," Rauwen grumbled. She looked all around her, scanning what green voices she could hear for any signs of the Sindar, but she heard none.

The crow took off and began flying low over the canopy. Rauwen had to race to keep up with it, leaping from branch to branch until she was sweating, although the air had stayed cold well into the afternoon.

The crow braked its wings and landed in front of her, staring at her silently. A sense of urgency washed over her, which she understood to be a message. Rauwen wished she'd brought her bow, but all she had with her was her sword, which she almost always carried, and a belt knife.

She searched in front of her until she found a wide swath of pines that were thrumming in hatred at something. Who on earth could fail to notice the din, she could not imagine.

The realization hit Rauwen hard. It must be the Sindar, deaf to the trees' ominous howling. As for what they were howling about, Rauwen had a sick feeling that she knew. Running as the crow flies, she'd covered a lot of ground quickly. She was deep in Oropher's territory, not nearly as far as she would like to be from the place where they'd heard the wolf's howl.

Rauwen drew her sword and crept forward, climbing down as she went into branches close enough to the ground that she could leap from them. She cursed herself again for leaving without a bow and quiver.

She crept through the pines until she found what she was looking for. She stifled a groan when she caught sight of Thranduil, his white-blond hair shining in the gloom of the thick evergreens.

The crow flew ahead, landing on a branch above Thranduil, calling a warning.

"You again!" Thranduil hissed. "What do you want, you fiend? You have chased my quarry halfway across the forest with your squawking!"

Rauwen leaned forward to get a better look at him and realized Thranduil was carrying a bow with an arrow knocked, but not drawn. She looked around for other Sindar, but she couldn't sense anyone else.

What are you doing out here alone? She thought.

She pushed that thought aside, looking instead for the danger that had the trees and the crow worked into a frenzy. She couldn't see what she was looking for at first, until she finally noticed the gleam of an eye under a tree across from her. She began looking for a likely path over to that tree, so she could drop on the predator unawares.

Before she could, she saw something swaying, and a black nose pushed through the pine needles.

"Thranduil!" she called. "Behind you!"

He whipped around, turning towards her voice — away from the threat.

Rauwen bounded forward and leapt into the space behind him, her sword connecting with the snarling creature that had launched itself from the shadows at his throat. Another was coming at her before the first fell, and she pivoted, swiping the face of a second black wolf with her blade. It fell, growling and twitching beside its pack mate on the ground, an arrow at its side.

Rauwen looked around for more wolves and saw nothing. She turned to Thranduil, who had already knocked and drawn another arrow.

"We should go," she whispered. "These are juveniles, and where there are pups—"

Before she could finish, a huge shape hurtled out of the trees at Rauwen, snarling. The enormous she-wolf knocked her to the ground, sending Rauwen's sword flying.

She felt it shudder as an arrow struck it in the side, but it only turned and snarled over its shoulder at Thranduil. Rauwen struggled, pinned beneath the giant paws. She yelled and grasped desperately for her belt knife, but couldn't reach low enough

The wolf growled at Rauwen, opening its jaws to rip her throat out. Rauwen kicked it in the belly and grabbed the ruff of greasy fur around its face with one hand. She punched the wolf's eye, and it howled at her, lunging at Rauwen to finish her off.

Rauwen looked at the fangs that would take her life in numb horror. The wolf shuddered, letting out a strangled howl. Its eyes rolled upward. Black blood gushed at Rauwen, who shrunk back, but couldn't get away. The blade of a sword ripped out of its throat and it gurgled, falling forward on top of Rauwen, senseless.

She pushed at the wolf, but it was very heavy. She couldn't see past it at all, but she could hear more growling and movement. Thranduil shouted and a wolf squealed.

Rauwen shimmied backward, struggling out from under the dead weight of the carcass. Her hips and legs were still trapped when she looked over to see another snarling pup racing towards her. She reached for her sword, but it was too far.

She screamed.

He appeared in a pale blur, his blade flashing in the dim light. The next thing she saw, he was standing over the wolf pup's body as its head rolled to the side.

He looked up, scanning the trees, then offered her a hand to help pull her out from under the grown wolf. He knelt and picked up her sword, handing it to her as she stood on shaky legs.

"Are you alright?" He whispered. Both elves kept scanning the trees, straining to hear or see anything.

"Well enough." She hissed and checked her shoulder. The wolf's claws had torn her clothes. She had a nasty scratch, which was burning from the black blood that soaked her clothes.

Thranduil looked at the wound with her. "That must be cleaned before it closes, or the scar will pain you for a long time, if this is anything like orc blood."

Rauwen grimaced. "Oh, I know that all too well."

Thranduil nodded in sympathy.

"The trees are finally quiet," Rauwen said. "They were in a fury, but I do not think you could hear them."

Thranduil shook his head. "I could not," he said. "But I think a crow tried to warn me."

"It did," Rauwen agreed. "When it was unsatisfied with the results of its efforts, it brought me here."

Thranduil stared at her. "Truly?" He asked.

"Why did you think I was here?"

"I had not had time to think about it."

Rauwen curled her lip in disgust at the corpses around them. "Well," she said. "We were busy."

Thranduil scoffed. "A little."

"Perhaps we should go back to Amon Lanc," Rauwen suggested. "Or the lake."

Thranduil shook his head. "That creek I explored is closer," he said, nodding at her shoulder. "We should not delay cleaning that."

She nodded. "What are you doing out here alone?" She asked.

Thranduil's face went rigid, except for his jaw muscles, which twitched, exactly the way Oropher's did when he was irritated. Rauwen narrowed her eyes at him.

"We should get you back to Amon Lanc," she said carefully. "Your father must be told of this."

Thranduil grimaced. "I — I cannot go yet," he said. He glanced at her, then looked away, his eyes shifting to a deer track through the trees. "I must finish tracking a deer."

Rauwen shook her head. "Let the hart go. There will be another."

Thranduil growled in frustration, then hung his head. "I came out here to check a deer track I saw, but when I came to it, I sighted a doe. I shot it, but it balked at the last minute. My arrow hit, but it was not a clean shot. It is badly injured, and yet it has still managed to throw me off all day. It stopped bleeding and I lost its trail when the deer path split in two. I — it was beyond me to tell its prints from the others, but I have been trying. I do not want to leave it to suffer."

Rauwen frowned. What would possess him to come into the woods alone, supposedly to 'check' a deer track, but with his full hunting kit? She was about to berate him, but she swallowed her words.

She closed her eyes and groaned softly. She had seen it in his eyes when she'd chided him over Sûlwen's shout — she had finally pushed him too far. She'd hurt his pride, and sent him home with not so much as a word of apology. And then he'd come out into the woods alone: to prove himself.

She pinched the skin of her forehead and hissed. Moving her arm hurt.

Thranduil was looking into the woods, away from her, his face stony.

"We must clean that. The water is that way," he said.

"Yes, and then…" Rauwen considered how to approach this. "May I join your hunt, Lieutenant?" She asked.

Thranduil looked at her warily.

"The doe's blood may have attracted the wolves. We need to find it," she said. "It was unlucky that she balked too soon and your shot went wide. I have had that happen to me before." She chose not to mention that she had been quite young, and her father had been with her to finish the deer with a second arrow.

Thranduil seemed to wrestle with himself. After a stretch of silence that felt too long, he said, "Perhaps I might offer you the bow and quiver, my Lady. I fear I may need more practice with them than I thought."

Rauwen began to nod, then decided against it. "Actually," she said, looking down at her shoulder. "I would prefer to leave the bow to you, but if you wish, I will help you set up your shot."

Thranduil nodded curtly and gestured that they should go to the creek.

Rauwen kept one ear on her surroundings and did not sheath her sword, but she started walking. He followed her.

"I cannot say if you need more practice, as I have not been shooting with you before," Rauwen whispered. "But, I can finally say that I have seen with my own eyes that you certainly know how to use a sword."

She turned so she could look him in the eye. "I expect anyone who can fight like that respects weapons enough to not try using one he was not yet comfortable with."

Thranduil looked down at her, still unsmiling. "Now who is flattering who?" He asked.

Rauwen raised an eyebrow at him. Here she'd been thinking that she'd like to learn some of the forms he had used, which she'd never seen before. He had been a sight to behold, like a dancer with a weapon in his hand. Even Lenwë did not wield a blade like that!

"It is as you once said to me," she said primly. "'It is not flattery if it is true.' That is what you told me when—"

"I remember," Thranduil said quietly.

"Thranduil…" Rauwen said. She had rarely used his name since their return from the Council. The hopeful look in his eyes as she said it pinched her heart. She'd turned her back on that budding friendship too swiftly, she thought, opting for formality with her neighbor's son as she tried to manage their clans' alliance.

"Thranduil," she repeated. "I owe you my life. I should have known better than to let down my guard so soon. If you had not been there when that wolf pinned me? Well. I doubt my body would have ever been found. But you were still on guard. You shot the wolf before I hit the ground."

Thranduil shook his head. "The arrow did not fly true. I was almost too late by the time I managed to kill it."

"The arrow did fly true," Rauwen said. "I felt her whole body shake when it hit. Unfortunately, as I will tell your father when we discuss these wolves, bone- or stone-tipped arrows will not pierce their hide. You are shooting with a Silvan bow, I would note."

She smiled slowly. "If my mother had witnessed that, she might have taken my clan from my hands and made me train all over again like a girl. It was a beginner's mistake. I admit it, though it stings my pride."

Thranduil blinked twice and bowed to her, his hand on his heart. "No one would hear as much from me, my Lady."

"I know that is true. I trust your discretion entirely. Plus, we are even now, you and I," Rauwen said.

Thranduil bowed his head again. It made an absurd picture to her. He looked so serious and artful, except that he was drenched in stinking, black blood.

In a strange way, this had been a boon, she decided. She had been so focused on the Sindar — Oropher most of all — and all the changes in her clan, that she had looked right past Thranduil. Sûlwen had been right in more ways than one. Rauwen might have no greater ally among the Sindar than Oropher's own son, if she did not take his respect for granted.

"Will you use my name, then, when we are not in company?" She asked. He looked surprised, confused even.

"My friends may do so, even when I am their clan leader," she added. "And I hope that I can count you among my friends. It is often so between those who have fought together, in my experience."

The look on Thranduil's face surprised her. She could not remember ever receiving such a look. She blinked and it was gone. Perhaps she had imagined it.

"So it is," he finally agreed, smiling like he couldn't believe his luck. "It is an honor to call you a comrade in arms." His voice hitched. "Rauwen," he added. His eyes shone.

She grinned at him. She pressed a hand against his forearm, but he looked so stunned, she removed it. She had forgotten how sensitive the Sindar were about physical touch.

"Ouch," she said, blaming her shoulder for the sudden shift.

He looked at her arm gravely and ushered them to the stream, where they cleaned her wound and gave it a makeshift binding. They washed as much blood off themselves as they could manage, although it left them wet and chilly in the cold air.

"Better keep moving," Rauwen said. She was eager to find this deer before it might wander too close to the village or Amon Lanc, drawing the wolves in.

Thranduil followed her, paying close attention as she squatted down where he'd lost the trail. She pointed out a few subtle signs that made her think they were on the right track. A few minutes later, she was sure.

"Look," she said. "More blood. You picked the right fork in the path after all. Well done."

Thranduil squinted oddly, then nodded in silent thanks.

Rauwen scoffed. "You guessed," she said.

Thranduil sighed. "I am caught."

She shook her head at him, grinning. "Well, no matter. A lucky guess then. You have all kinds of luck, tripping on net traps that deliver you to the very people you were searching for, then a few months later on a bed of truffles. Truffles! Just like that. I wish my pigs were as talented."

Thranduil rolled his eyes at her. "My dear Lady Rauwen," he said loftily. "I am caught, but our quarry is not. Perhaps, I might kindly suggest, we should continue our hunt."

Rauwen snorted and led them onward. She found more blood on the ground, and the tracks became uneven, as though the deer was limping. They were close, and that was good. Because it was starting to get darker, and it was freezing, and their clothes were damp with blood and water.

She looked up at the sky to try to judge the sun, but it was cloudy above the treetops. A snowflake landed on her upturned face.

The faster they could find this wounded deer, the better, she thought.

(*)

Notes

Happy Saturday! Hooray, I made the posting date again! I am happy to say that Chapter 16 is pretty much completed and Chapter 17 is halfway done, so it looks like the biweekly updates will continue for the time being! Next update will be April 19.

I am so so so excited to be at this part of the story. I think some of y'all following along will get a few things you've been hoping for this time. I truly hope you enjoy the direction this is going. I would love to hear your thoughts!

Hoping you're all doing well, despite it all. 3

Terms

Heulwen - Sunshine (Welsh)