The smell of blood was strong as Cyndwin made sure of her footing on the slick, muddy ground, spitting to clear her head. At her feet were two massive dead wolves already yet a third, not quite dead enough as of yet, was carefully circling her, evil yellow eyes gleaming in the Trollshaws dusk. Predator faced prey, but which was which?
The Shieldmaiden gripped her great sword more tightly, the well bound leather of the long hilt rough against her hands as she drew the blade up above her head, parallel to the ground at a rigid angle, sweeping it down across her body in a bright guarded arc, footing expertly shifting to match the wolf's slow pacing.
A grim smile lit the woman's fair face, her blonde hair hanging loose around her shoulders, her armor only half strapped on, hurriedly donned before the wolfsong had broken the midnight quiet of her campsite. Fortunately it had been some months since she had been truly caught unaware by any threat. Besides her own growing prowess causing her sleep to grow light, she had felt Xanderian's hand on her sleeping shoulder well before the pack's first howl broke, soft words more felt then heard. "Something has caught our scent and it is moving fast...to arms."
The wolf, already lacking an ear and with one eye fouled with blood, snarled viciously and the Shieldmaiden snarled back, feeling truly alive as she always did in battle. Somewhere behind her she heard the soft thud of arrows finding soft targets, a high happy keen in the back of her mind as Heartbreaker shared its song of victorious hunts and wolfskin cloaks over ancient idols. Cyndwin's soul filled with an almost unnatural ecstasy. This was a life as she had dreamed it, but had feared she would never find.
The wolf braced suddenly as if to flee and Cyndwin knew full well it was about to leap at her in a final desperate rush so she brought her great sword around, stepping forward into the wolf's path rather then retreating, shouting joyously in her native Rohirric. "Come puppy, let us finish this!"
The wolf leaped with shocking strength for its wounds, clearly driven by shadowy forces, yet Cyndwin pivoted on one foot in a long arc, her sword held forth like a lance. Her brutal slash ended with her facing away from the wolf, the sword point in the earth, yet she could tell by the sudden silence and the wet thud that her blade had struck true.
She looked up in triumph...and then beheld the two last sets of yellow eyes, already airborne, gaping mouths all teeth, silent as death itself. The Daughter of the Westfold brought her sword up but already knew that this was going to hurt or worse, cursing in Rohirric about Saruman's taste in underage boyfriends. "Sneaky bastards...." she muttered...as suddenly the arrows flashed over her shoulder, so close to her ear she could feel them move through her hair. One arrow for each wolf, catching each in the throat with such force that they were thrown to the treeline and nailed to the trunks of ancient Elms to twitch for a moment as they died.
As their whimpers faded the glen went silent and peaceful again.
Cyndwin swallowed, whispering a prayer of thanks to Eorl...then turned knowing full well what she would see. Standing on a small rise, Xanderian of Belfalas looked down, the starlight seeming to wrap around her like a cloak, her supple green armor leaving her almost invisible in the heavy foliage. Her bow Heartbreaker glowed soft blue in her hands, humming happily at the bloodshed. Her jet black eyes met Cyndwin's cornflower blue gaze and the two lovers smiled...and wordlessly began to repair their camp.
...
After an hour the fire was banked up and the wolf carcasses had been dragged away, the two lounging in the firelight, the moon fully risen now as they spoke in low, tender tones. In the valley below them they could barely make out the torchlight of Thorenhad.
Cyndwin was having a hard time calming down, between the wolves and her excitement to continue traveling. "Are you sure she is really coming? Really? Her script was never easy to read you know...."
The elleth laughed as she gently combed out Cyndwin's long blond hair, carefully cleaning bits of leaves and wolf blood out of her tresses as the girl leaned back against her. "I am sure my aza. She wrote that she will make her best time back to Bree, but Haywood her mentor should see that she stays to the road and travels wisely. Hopefully we shall beat her there."
Leaning down the huntress kissed the Shieldmaiden's cheek softly, looking up at the moon wistfully. "It seems years since we have seen Fille, dear Cyndwin, and ages since I first beheld her."
Cyndwin brightened like a little girl. "Tell me of that day again my elflove, when you met? Please...I cannot sleep after battle, you know this. Pleeeasseeee Rian?"
Xanderian sighed in mock frustration. "Very well my love, if you require a story...it was before Xanir withdrew to Imladris, when I knew not where his travels had taken him save that I had had grim dreams that seemed to show he had been, or would be, in Bree. I had searched the city with no success, and enjoyed little kindness from the locals. I was growing frustrated, saddened...afraid. When I made my way that evening into the main hall of the Prancing Pony I was feeling altogether defeated. However, when I entered and felt the stares and whispers of the locals upon my back as I always did, I beheld two women in my typical place near the fire."
Cyndwin turned to face the elleth. "And one of them was Fille, yes?"
"Who is telling this story? Are you rehearsing for when songs are spoke before your throne in your mead hall and no one can tell you to hush?" The huntress was smiling, her eyes alight with love despite her mocking tone as Cyndwin looked sheepish and fell silent.
Xanderian continued, her tone bright with memory. "Now where was I before an upstart daughter of the Mark confused me....ah yes, two women. One was a charming woman of rustic Combe who was polite but it was clear I unnerved her...however the other....the other held my attention from the first moment and I hers. Hair like coal, eyes like burning embers, the scent of the forge about her. Even then her hands were always in motion and covered in soot. She was so curious, so quick, so eager to know where I hailed from, where I traveled from and to. So anxious to hear news of the world beyond. It was clear from her voice and manner she was not local to Bree, a touch of urban sophistication about her, yet not nobility per se."
The huntress stirred the fire quietly, looking into the flames. "When she told me she was called Fillegedhiel, I knew of course that she hailed from Dol Amroth by her name and accent though it would not be until our next meeting that she would betray her origins directly, and then over the next week, in a rush confide in me the tale of her Mother's tragedy, her Father's perfidy and menace against her and her daring flight to Bree. I knew however, when I first laid eyes upon her, that she would be a companion for life. Something within her spoke to me, and something within me spoke to her. Just like you, she was a part of my soul I had mislaid and had come upon again, like a diamond on the beach."
Cyndwin smiled, settling back against her bedroll, her eyes growing heavy as Xanderian watched over her, finishing the often told story.
"From that day we two were inseparable..." the Huntress continued, her voice growing softer as her Aza drifted to sleep. "And then when you arrived, we three were inseparable, sisters against shadow. When she felt the need to flee to the Dwarves for protection against her father's relentless search, I felt part of my soul torn from me again. Yet now, upon his death, she returns and I long for our reunion and the repair of my soul. For you see my beloved, we three must stand together against the wolves, for we are all that we can depend upon in these dark days."
Cyndwin spoke without opening her eyes. "Wolves? Like these puppies?"
The elleth stroked her golden hair. "Like them my love, but unlike them...we are surrounded by wolves, both two legged and four legged. We walk amongst them every moment of every day...we need our full strength to oppose the shadow rising and its hideous yellow eyes. We need Fille returned to us."
Xanderian tossed the stick into the fire and lay back, holding Cyndwin tenderly. "When we are three...Only then can we be truly safe amongst the wolves."
