With the scroll secured in her bag, Frêllian turned to Canwrîf. Íler had already risen and they were ready for departure. Yet now that she was about to leave the elven city, she did so with a heavy heart. Leaving would mean she could probably die. Not that she was afraid of dying, she had often wished for death years ago. Before she ran away from the orcs and stumbled across Bilbo.

No, she wasn't afraid of dying, but now that her life had turned for the better, she wasn't keen on it either. But what she did fear, was what would happen to her people should she die. Would they settle down with her decision of naming Canwrîf her heir? Would they accept him as their Alpha Supreme? Or would their be a civil war, where all packs would try and claim the title?

'We will wait anxiously await your return, my Lady Supreme,' Gírla said, snapping the young ferian out of her thoughts. 'Be careful though. There are no packs that far up north and we do not know how the ancient wolves will react to visitors.'

'I know, Gírla.'

Frêllian smiled weakly at the older ferian. Though over twice her age - the ferian had passed her two hundredth nameday last winter - she still looked youthful enough. Though her blonde hair was adorned with silver strings and the corner of her eyes showed creases to betray she wasn't the youngest of the pack either. Yet her dark blue eyes were always filled with love. The woman held a motherly air and never did bother with formalities after Frêllian returned to Rivendell.

'Canwrîf better take care of you. I will not allow another Alpha Supreme to die while I'm still around.' The ferian then turned to her son, snapping at him in a motherly way. 'And no funny business, you hear me boy?'

'Aye, mèrre,' he replied as he rolled his eyes.

She gave him one last glare, before turning her attention back to Frêllian. Her eyes softened immediately upon setting on the platinum haired queen.

'I can't believe I'm letting you leave with only one chaperone, Frey, my dear. And one who fancies you too!'

'Mother!'

'But I know your heart is with another. And if Canwrîf is the one to stand by your side during your quest, then you won't find a more loyal companion.'

Frêllian smiled at this. Yes, she knew that already. She had been able to count on the male from the start. She had no doubt he would betray her now. Even if he did not agree with this journey.

'Well then, off you go. And I'll send out a raven to inform your father.'

'Thank you, Gírla.'

She pulled the elder ferian into a warm embrace. Bidding her farewell, before sending an unsure wave at the other members of the pack. Then she glanced at Canwrîf as he said his farewell to his mother.

Her dark blue eyes met his forest green ones and a silent message was said between them. Both were anxious, but determined as well. She wanted to find the direwolves, the ancient wolves of the north. He wanted to keep his Alpha Supreme safe.

She gave him a nod and then started walking away from Imladris. From her pack, her people. Away from the place she had been calling her home for five years now. The last time she had left the city for a dangerous journey, she had been on a quest with Thorin Oakenshield. This time it would be a quest of her own.

The shortest way was to go up and keep the misty mountains to their right. They would eventually pass the Ettenmoors, before reaching Carn Dûm. And from there on Frêllian would travel alone into the ever snowy mountains behind the capital of the once evil witch-king Angmar. Why the ancient ones had remained living near such an evil place was beyond her. But if that was the place she had to go, then that was where she had to go.

As they walked out of the valley, Frêllian wondered if they would take the long way around. Perhaps pass through the Shire and pay her dear hobbit friend a visit. It had been a year since she had last seen him and it had been the last time she had left the valley of Imladris as well. But she knew she could not visit him, not now. Right now, she had urgent business up in the North. But that did not mean her heart longed to see her dearest friend. And knowing the peril, it might also have to do with her wanting to stall time.

But she would not. She would face whatever she was going to face and she was going to do so as quickly as possible, without any detour. To reach the northern mountains as fast as possible, that was her main objective. To speak to the ancient ones and find her answers. To find out whether or not there was a way for her to pursue her heart's desire.

'We should be able to reach the mountain range a lot faster if we shifted,' Canwrîf stated as he walked next to her. 'Four legs run faster than two.'

'Not yet,' she told him, enjoying the serene scenery. 'I have grown fond of the beauty of Imladris. Let us enjoy the green of the lands while we still can. Once we have exit the valley we will shift.'

'You are scared, aren't you?'

She ignored him. She was after all the Alpha of Alphas. She should not feel fear. She should be a fearless leader to her people. Just as Thorin had been. Yet she was indeed frightened.

She wasn't afraid of what would happen when she did meet the ancient wolves. Even if she could not predict the outcome. She did however fear what would happen if they would talk to her. She was afraid that they would deny her the answers she sought. Or worse, they did not give her the answer she wanted.

What if they would tell her there was no way of her and Fíli being together? That she was forced to live her life without the dwarrow that still haunted her dreams at night? That was what really frightened the ferian, but she would not admit it to her companion. Not even if he could see right through her act.

Her fears would remain a secret to the world.

Voices carried over the wind. The grieve so deep it pained Frêllian's own heart. Though the words where unclear, the message was not. Someone had died, yet it were men lamenting. Instead of women Why men? It usually was the women to lament, that was a common practice with every folk.

Yet there was no wailing of women. Only the lamenting of men. Through the thick mist she could see two figures - no three! She almost missed the shorter, stockier one. It seemed they were the ones mourning the death of a beloved. A friend, family, perhaps a comrade? All she could tell that the fallen one was dear to them.

She wanted to call out for them, but then she changed her mind. It would not be polite to disturb one during a burial. Besides, she knew she was not awake yet. She has had this dream before.

'The words have been written,' a voice suddenly boomed, startling the ferian once again.

'Yet the ink has not yet dried,' another stated, almost pleading.

Frêllian looked over to the three figures, but they gave her no indication it was them who had spoken. Eventhough she already knew none of the men spoke, she still glanced over to them. She always did.

'Fate cannot be changed, it is decided.'

'Yet fate has been changed before.'

Much to her surprise Frêllian did not wake after those words had been said, like the first couple of times. Instead her dream continued. And as she listened to the argument, if felt like she was eavesdropping.

'The line of Durin was destined to fall, yet one remained. The love of my child saved him.'

This time a feminine voice joined in. Her voice soothing compared to the demanding ones of the two men.

The line of Durin was destined to fall? Were they talking of the battle that took place five years ago? The line was almost broken that day, had she not saved Fíli. One remained, Fíli survived. Had she foiled the destiny that was written for the dwarf? Had she thwarted the will of the Valar by saving the one she loved?

'She had acted on her own, following her hearts desire,' the first voice spoke again, his voice now a bit softer than before. 'It was not what was written.'

'Is that not why our children are given a will of their own? To think and act on their own instead of being mindless puppets doing our bidding?'

'Aulë, have you not gone against Eru Ilúvatar enough? It was the descendant of your second child that foiled his plan concerning your first. And now you want to mingle yourself with the second children of Ilúvatar as well?'

'My father wishes to set things right,' the female spoke. 'Yes, the words have been written and some have already dried. But there is no need for such a sacrifice. A warrior's death it might be, but for what? What good will it do?'

'Hush, Selèna this is none of your concern.'

'I beg to differ,' the woman called Selèna countered in anger. 'My sons have been known to the world, but my daughter has faded into myth. It is my daughter we could look to. Her descendants still live with men.'

'And what would you have us do then, hm? They no longer posses the powers they once had. Lost over the generations.'

'Indeed, but they have no need for such powers. Love itself is a powerful weapon.'

With a jolt, Frêllian sat up straight. Never before had her dream carried on for that long! What was that all about? About whom where the Valar speaking off? A warrior would die and the smith Aulë wanted to prevent it. Why would the creator of dwarves mingle with the fate of a child of Ilúvatar? And what did Selèna mean? Her daughter had faded into myth. Was she speaking of the lost child of Aelash? But that was all she was, was she not? A myth?

She knew the myth of her origin. Of the three sons of Dêrus and Selèna. Their eldest son, Drêgas, settled down with a descendant of Durin. Their middle son, Lüfran became the father of wargs. And of course there was her own ancestor, Ferès. The youngest son who asked Aulë for a favour. To be able to switch between his true form and a wolf.

But the story of Aelash? No. There had never been a sign of it to be true. Only bedtime stories and fairytales. The men held no stories of a union between men and the child of the moon. And over the centuries there had never been any trace of the scent of the moon with men. And why was that? Because the child was just a myth, nothing else.

But still, Frêllian could not shake off the thoughts. Why did she dream of such an argument between the Valar? And why did she dream of those lamenting men, not even hearing their words. Only feeling their sorrow? And most of all, why did she think of Aelash at a time like this?

Were the Valar really showing her this to send her a message? Did they want her to know something? She knew the elves were at times blessed with a glimpse of the future and some men with Númenórean blood could also. But they were the children of Ilúvatar.

Ferien were not. They were created by whom the dwarves called Mahal. First creating the sun and moons, before creating his first children, the dwarves. And later he blessed Selèna with a mortal life on Middle Earth, resulting in the birth of the ferien. Never before had he blessed his children with such glimpses.

Frêllian laid back down. The snoring of Canwrîf told her the ferian was still sound asleep after their long days of travel.

High above her was Lüna. Her full form had slowly waned into that of a small crescent over the days they had travelled.

Two weeks they had travelled already, which meant they would reach Carn Dûm in a day or two. Much faster than they would have if they had travelled in their true form. But during the day, the two ferien shifted into their wolf form to cover more ground in one day. And travelling in a pair was much faster than a whole pack. But the closer they got to the once evil capital of Angmar, the shorter her night's became. Though the longer her dream.

It bothered Frêllian. No matter how hard she tried, she could not decrypt the message it held within. If there was a message at all! If there was indeed a warrior going to die, then when? And where? And was she given these dreams as a chance to change his fate? But how could she, if she did not know who the fallen was? She didn't even know who the three lamenting companions were. Only that one of them was a dwarf - being built more stockier than a ferian - and the other two either men or elves.

'Frêllian?'

She let out a startled gasp as the ferian next to her sat up. A concerned frown on his face as he looked at her.

'Where you plagued by your dreams again?'

She nodded absentmindedly. Her thoughts still with her dream. Then she told him about her latest dream. She hadn't told him about it the first time. But as the dream became more frequent, she eventually entrusted it to her beta. Hoping he could give her an answer. But he had no answer either. And he didn't have one this time. But it felt nice to be able to talk to him about them.

'We'll figure out the meaning of your dreams,' Canwrîf stated as he stood up. 'But perhaps it would be better to focus on the task on hand first. First you need to find out if there is a way to be with the dwarf king, without a repeat of what happened with your mother. And after that, we will find out the meaning of your dreams.'

Frêllian nodded. A small smile slowly making its way on her lips. He was right. First she needed to seek the ancient wolves. And if she had any luck, her dreams would give away more over time.

'Well then. If we are awake why not continue our way?'

He reached out his hand for her to take, which she did, and pulled her to her feet. He gave her a grin, showing his sharp canines and then started packing his stuff. Frêllian looked ahead to the mountain range instead. Up until now, their journey had been without any hazards. No orcs, no wargs. Nothing ill-willed creature crossed their paths. But that would change once she would venture into the mountains alone. She would find her answers there, though the price remained unknown. She knew it would be the coldest parts of the realm, so cold not even her thick fur could keep her warm.

But would that all she had to face? Chilling wind and frozen fur? Or would she face an even greater threat? What would she face on the other side of the mountains?

With a sigh, she finally turned her back to the mountains and started packing her back as well. A silent prayer send to Selèna as she did so.