A bark, like a warning shot echos against the mountain. Haldir answers it with a threat, his large black tipped antlers swinging forward. Wolves were all too known in these parts and while his heart raced his fear was now tamed in his adult form. His heart raced as it crashed up the rocks, but the golden’s struggled. Its beat had quickened, but his aches and depression arrested his worry. So it was with a lazy turn of his crowned head that he looks to the path when a white and violet figure burst up the rocks.


Hotaru’s Wolf Golden harks immediately pin back and his head jerks away. Where that dog was she would not be far behind and he wanted nothing to do with that woman. For nothing good ever came of it.


Haldir was more perceptive. His threats immediately drop and his large pale eyes see what the golden in his hate did not, fear. Like a dagger thrown through the air from the wolf it strikes his heart when he sees the wide eyes and panicked run. The black stag stumbles forward in his confusion and the contagious fear. On the path he steps up to follow the wolf to the cave but a glimmer below catches his eye. A stone stained with crimson.


The earth eyes see from their corner the streak of white grow close in madly. Teeth bare in threat, but still he does not turn to the dog and his eyes keep from it as it circles. What new torture is this? The devil mare sending the dog ahead to begin the fight for her? To see him agitated and frustrated? To hear his pleas again? A cloven hoof stomps upon the stone.


For weeks a pale pink figure had haunted his steps though he dare not turn and search for it. For weeks his mind dared not speak her name and give reality to all the memories which were shrouded in fog about his mind. For weeks the footsteps of someone remained outside his heart where they had begged entrance. He dare not admit someone was getting close. That his defenses were weakening in the acts of loyalty, care, and honor she demanded. That there was more to his tension than the herd he commanded. That there was a Lady.


And now here was her damn servant continuing the aggravations. A hind lashes out in warning as the grown pup rounds him, though it misses. It was certain he could have hit…but he did not. Then a weight pulls at his back. Now at last he jerks his crowned head over, as the wolf pulls at his cloak. His hate ever blinding, he sees still nothing but the runt adding yet more weight to his weary back. Mouth reaches for the white fur.


”DARO! Laurelin, daro!” [Stop! Golden, stop.] The snap of jaws do not come but jerks to the dark stag paces away. Signs of threat easy, and his attention focuses on the deer. You see, the bond has grown stronger, for look at as the gold listens to Haldir. The dark stag stands with a trembling hide and pained eyes, gaining the golden’s harks forward. ”Tiro” [Look!] Came a whisper from the deer. A hesitation glances over the gold as he looks for the white wolf, but it has gone to past the deer. One hark leans back but it trusts the dark stag’s words, and the earth eyes look through the inner hate.


Bloodied paws. Caved stomach. Wretched coat. Wide, pained black eyes. At last the tremblings of fear he feels in the air. But though he sees them, his pain still braces against all. His head turns away again with a snort. ”Laumë rhû.” [It matters not.] Came the twisted whisper to the deer, full of rejection, pain, and selfishness. His large ears fall back and his hoof slams in defiance. ”Neithad” [You are wrong.] But the golden, with his already pained chest and the awaking memory of the day with the trees below has no strength to wield. “Leave me be.” In the same desperate, defeated tones as before when he lay at her feet. Haldir’s head dropped.

For all he claimed to be, cold, dark, and heartless, he could not shut the gates against the world completely. A faint and fear driven whisp of air fluttered in his heart, though he tried to quell it. Surely there was nothing seriously wrong. Down in the valley he could see nor hear no alarm, but neither were there any spars within the borders that he could notice. Still, that mare was strong. Though it brought bitterness for him to admit it, she was nearly as strong as he. None bring threat to her. None dare cast their nets and threats upon the Lady of the Wolves and Mountains.

And yet…Some fowl presence turned in him as the white wolf renewed its efforts (though still ignored). His mind pulled at memories. The wolf never left the pale rosen mare’s side. Even in the threat of pain. Earth eyes look down as the dog grabs at his cloak again. This time does not answer at all, but instead watches as it runs off again. And his ears catch fully the pained whines, and tortured gaze.

Like sacks of earth and rock falling upon his back he feels the weight of his burden grow. His chest how it aches, and knees groan with the added agony. The thoughts of ill will and worry, the recognizing of these, how they bring full force against him all which threatens him. Golden eyes close away and his body slides slightly against the rock wall. “Haldir... Im althalion farn….”[Haldir…I am not strong enough] A gasped breath escapes the golden lord, and the dark stag looks up from his woe. “Im algar hen….sinomë” [I am not able to bear all this…this place.] A deadened eye opened and cast to the dark stag’s bottomless pale ones.

”San gwanna” Then leave.

Golden harks instantly pick up. A beggar given the key to the mansion. ”Gwanna?” The deer’s eyes trembled, but now at last he gave way. All his life the Basin had been home, but not for the golden. Like a realization finally brought forth from the shadows the deer let it come to light. To release his bonded from this torture, it would have to end, all of it. So though it grieved him to speak it with the warmth and comforts of home around him, he releases the idea to the golden, committing himself to the fate as well. ”Gwanna ed il” [Leave it all]

Clean air fills through his lungs for the first time in a long age, and the darkness of the cage about him and the weights piling upon his back are at last tossed aside. Was the very thought of such a thing, the thought of an act so long banished from his thoughts, so powerful? Yes….He had forgotten the chains of this place were not permanent. That were not the same chains as the other kind. These were a mask. And like a mask he could rip them aside.

And so he did. The Golden Lord of the North cast his ties aside, his crown falling along with the rest till all that remained was the Golden Theif, the Laurelin. The weapons and power of the north let go, but the greater danger of the Laurelin unsheathed for his heart, body, and tongue remembered their own strength again at last. Let all the world tremble and the watchmen take heed.

A pained whine cuts through the realization, and the wolf gains the golden’s attention again. Bright earth eyes turning on him, and the victory wanes. But the golden was restored, and his powers pulsed with such strength that even he was not immune to them. Hotaru. Her name fell at last from its mists into his thoughts. His heart quivered, but it was weak against its own body once more. Powerless at the force of such a release to bring up its pains and woes. So as he looks upon the wolf waiting at the path he sees no longer a collar, nor does he feel any weight upon his shoulders, but instead a plan. The escape. “Alright.”

Haldir, who at the enormity of the change had stepped closer now gains the golden’s gaze again. Though the stag’s heart still grieved for his home, it could not stay so low when it saw the light shine upon the golden once more, and the firey gold dance in his eyes. Quickly they made plans. Spinning into the cave the golden and deer work quickly and all was prepared.

Only once did he pause. As items were made ready and after the golden trades his wolf pelt for a cloak of blue he came upon two necklaces of old, buried upon the pile. He stares upon them for a while, and for a moment the thrill of it all drops away, and a pale rosen maiden figure touches his breast, causing it to remember. Haldir barks a word of hurry, and the gold stirs. Yet he does not toss the items with the others. Instead upon his own neck he slips the charm of a hawk and in the pocket of the blue cloak the other of the sparrow.

At last there was only one thing left to do, and this the golden dreaded most. But it must be done. Standing before Haldir his head drops and the deer reaches forward and from his brow is plucked the silver circlet crown, and its slipped into the satchel with the rest. Though the freedom whistled through the golden’s soul and made merry, the lost weight of the precious was a painful as the deepest wound.

When the golden steps into the light again he looks not like himself. About him drapes a cloak of blue and around his neck lies a hawk of gold, and upon his head there is no crown. Beside him steps the dark stag, weighed down with all he could bear, and all the gold possessed. His eyes lingered for a moment longer on the dark comfort of the empty cave, but at last they too turn away. They find the dancing earth eyes of the golden looking upon him, and the two nod in agreement of some unspoken plan. Now the gold leaves the deer’s side and comes to the wolf.

Of all the things laid ahead this is the one he was least certain of. Though the illusion of prison walls no longer surrounded him, and his lungs breathed the deep free air, his mind knew this was a dangerous path. Not that he feared battle or threat. No…this was a greater danger. A danger which while freeing him from one doom, locked him in another more sinister and dark. For bonded of this wolf had delved too deep and greedily at the golden’s heart, and what she had awoken there in the dark could not ignored. Yet with a solid breath, and steady hand he looks upon this danger and answers in the simplest words.

“Take me to her.”
For he was admitting the tie beyond those just cast aside which bound the gold and rose. An admittance which awoke the demons of the dark past, and invited ghosts to his door. Even now the chains of the past rattled and grew taunt, threatening to pull him into the dark abyss of remembrance. But this was not that weak pale creature who had leaned upon the rock. This was the Laurelin once more. The golden thief. And he laughed as he raced down the mountain after the wolf, deep and full, at the hell which grew hot under his hooves with every step.

He flew from the cave, out of the vale, and through the Arch, never looking back.



"Talk?"
Thranduil renounces his title as Lord, and a member of the Aurora Basin. ;-;

we live like thieves
     kings among men