Celegorm sat up abruptly. There was a howl, and it was closer than he liked. “Aredhel!” he hissed as he pulled out the dagger he had. “Aredhel, I hear something!”
In a flash, Aredhel was awake and clutching the spear that Celegorm had made for her. “I hear it, too. They sound close by.”
“Too close.” Celegorm gathered up their meager supplies in the middle of one of the cloaks, pulled the corners together, and hoisted the hastily created sack over his shoulder. “Can you climb that tree?” he asked, pointing to one with a thick trunk.
Aredhel nodded and yanked the other cloak from the ground. She jumped up to grab hold of a branch and swung slightly to gather the momentum needed to swing up on the next try. “Quick, toss me the gear!” she said as the sound of hungry wolves came nearer.
Celegorm hardly had time to do so before the first member of the pack emerged from the bushes. The wolves approached with menacing looks in their eyes. It was hard for Celegorm to stand his ground against them with naught by a small knife to fend them off, though he knew that turning his back to them was suicide. “Aredhel, can you get a good shot at them?”
“I can try, but I would have to drop the supplies,” she said. “Let me see if I can get to the rope for you.”
“That is not going to help,” warned Celegorm as the wolves started to close in, blocking him off from anything but the tree. “We should have kept the fire going,” he said.
One of the wolves leaped, but his aim was for the tree and not Celegorm. Aredhel screamed as the wolf managed to get a grip on the branch she used to climb and hung on. It scrambled onto the narrow branch and licked its lips.
Celegorm was now caught in a difficult position, for if he attempted to go after the threat to Aredhel, he left himself open for an attack. In his current spot, however, he was of no use either. As Aredhel shrieked again, he made his decision.
Celegorm turned, ran, and jumped up. His left hand took hold of the wolf’s back leg, and he pulled it down onto the ground with him. He tried to roll away from the whimpering, snarling animal, but he found himself cornered against the trunk by three more. His knife was no longer in his hand, knocked away some metres from him. He attempted a lunge, but one of the wolves pounced him. He was knocked backwards flat onto the ground, and as the wolf stood over him with a happy look, a bright light filled the clearing, blinding him.
“Away with you, foul creatures of the forest!” exclaimed a terrifying voice. “Be gone with you, and come here not again!”
The wolves, including the one that was threatening Celegorm, tucked their tails and ran back from whence they came. Celegorm sat up thankfully, and found Melkor standing in the clearing with a rod of ebony in his hands.
Once more, Melkor struck the ground with his staff, and the bright light dissipated. “Are you hurt?” he asked as he offered Celegorm a hand in getting up.
Celegorm pushed himself back up with aid from the tree trunk. “How did you do that?”
Melkor withdrew his hand. “The wolves fear the power of my staff. I merely conjured a vision, seen to you and your companion as light, but seen to the wolves as something to fear. They know I can do much more with my weapon, and they are wise enough not to stay and find out what I might do.”
“It is quite fortunate for us that you happened to be in the woods,” said Celegorm.
“Fortune had little to do with it,” answered Melkor. “Your fathers have been looking for both of you for many weeks now. It is known by all that you are to be brought to them.”
“You are capturing us?” asked Aredhel, who was still up in the tree with the supplies.
“Capturing you? No, my dear, I am going to return you safely. Do you not miss your family? Do you not wish to ease your parents’ fears?” wondered Melkor.
Aredhel looked worried, but Celegorm shook his head. “Certainly not. They deserve this, after all they have put us through. Let them wait. We will come back when we want to return,” said Celegorm. “Are we not adults? We are old enough to make our own decisions.”
“I see,” said Melkor. “I will not force you to return, but you should know that you are missed by your families. The worry of your father is exceptionally strong,” he said to Aredhel. “Your father speaks of ways he shall protect you once you have returned.”
“Just another reason for us not to,” said Celegorm. “He will lock you away and take even more of your freedoms from you,” he warned.
It seemed as if Aredhel was torn, but her will was strong and she said, “I do not wish to return yet.”
“Neither do I,” said Celegorm sincerely. “We will not come willingly, Lord Melkor.”
“As you wish,” Melkor replied. “Do be careful of the wolves,” he said as he disappeared back into the woods.
Once the Ainu was gone, Celegorm helped Aredhel down from her perch. “Maybe sleeping in the trees at night would not be such a bad idea.”
“I would be afraid of rolling out of it,” admitted Aredhel. “Then again, falling out of a tree would be far preferred to being eaten by a wolf.”
“Those wolves seemed hungry,” said Celegorm. “I am concerned about them. Normally, wolves will run from us, no matter how in need of game they are. This pack seemed especially vicious.”
“I suppose different packs act differently,” Aredhel said. “There are some horses that act one way, and some that act another. Wolves cannot be so different.”
Celegorm nodded. “Still, we should be on guard.” The supplies were redistributed and everything was accounted for, with the exception of Celegorm’s knife. “Can you help me check for it? I dropped it earlier when I was fighting the wolves.”
Though he and Aredhel searched for nearly an hour, neither were able to find the fallen knife. To add to the matter, the spear that Celegorm had fashioned was now had a split down the middle and would not last much longer. “I wish we had brought real weapons with us,” announced Celegorm as he gave up on an attempt to fix the broken spear. It was thrown to the ground as the pair both looked up and in the same direction at the same time. “Did you hear that?”
“Horses.” Aredhel grabbed what she could manage, while Celegorm hoisted the rest up with him as he hurried her toward the most likely candidate for the tree they could fastest climb. They reached the upper branches not a moment too soon, for into their clearing rode a hunting party, and among them, cousins and siblings.
Their tree had shed most of its leaves, but had a trunk thick enough to aid in covering them, and many branches to allow them to blend in. They dared not say a word to one another as they helplessly watched those below.
“I thought I heard someone talking,” stated Artanis matter-of-factly. “I was certain of it.”
Turgon was there also, as were Finrod, Caranthir, Curufin, and Ehtele. It seemed that Ehtele was rather bored to be with the party, for his gaze wandered about aimlessly, and Artanis’s batting eyelashes went unnoticed. Caranthir looked rather restless and was already pushing his horse ahead of the others.
“You heard nothing, cousin. Perhaps a woodland creature,” he reasoned.
“No, I heard voices,” she argued. She loved to argue when she could.
Curufin rolled his eyes. “There is no one here. Voices in your head, maybe?” Her cousins all chuckled, but Finrod stared them down.
Ehtele yawned.
“I think we have lost the trail of that silver fox,” said Turgon. He glanced upwards, and focusing upon the spot where his sister and cousin were hiding, he squinted just a little. Aredhel and Celegorm held their breath.
“Something the matter, Turgon?” asked Finrod as he pulled his horse closer.
Turgon turned his mount and shook his head. “No, I thought I saw a woodpecker, but it was nothing. Shall we continue on?”
“I heard someone talking,” insisted Artanis as they started to reassemble the party.
“Of course you did.” Caranthir rode by and patted her braided head as he passed by while some of the others laughed.
Finrod placed his hand upon his sister’s shoulder to keep her from starting another argument. As he did so, something on the ground caught his eye. “Halt!” he cried out, and the rest pulled back on their reins. “There is something in the leaves,” he announced as he dismounted. He dug into them and came up with the knife that Celegorm had lost.
“That knife has father’s mark upon it,” said Caranthir. He, too, dismounted, and joined Finrod in examining the blade. “It must be Celegorm’s – father made one like this for each of us. Celegorm must have dropped it.”
“He would never by so clumsy,” defended Curufin. “Perhaps he was attacked.”
“There are signs of a struggle,” remarked Turgon as he circled the area upon his mount. “These marks are fresh,” he said, pointing to the tracks from the wolves.
“Let us take a good look around,” suggested Artanis. “We may find some clues as to what happened.”
“Or, we may waste our time looking for them,” said Caranthir. “Honestly, if they do not want to be found, we will not find them.”
“I wonder – if we find them, can we turn them in to grandfather to collect the award?” wondered Turgon.
“Always the opportunist,” scolded Artanis.
A rustle of leaves made all of them turn, and Caranthir saw it first. “There is our fox! Onward!”
The rest followed, except for Curufin, who pulled back a little. “I hope my brother would have the sense to come home eventually,” he said wistfully. He glanced up at the spot that Turgon had looked to and added, “I would hope my cousin would knock some sense into him if she had to.” Then Curufin rode off to join his cousins and brother in the chase.
Celegorm waited until the coast was clear before he climbed down. “I hate being up so high,” he complained as Aredhel landed on the ground beside him.
“We had best leave before they come back,” suggested Aredhel.
“I wish they had not taken my knife,” complained Celegorm. He picked up the few other items that had been unseen, and they hurried off the path before they could be spotted again.
