Taming the Wolf (A Hobbit Fanfic)

Chapter 11

Frêllian carefully opened her eyes. Her head was still pounding from the blood loss, and as she sat up, she began to feel dizzy. But when her vision cleared, the young ferian began to take in her surroundings. At first she was surprised by her lessened sense of scent, only to be reminded that she had shifted before being grabbed by one of the ferian that had been following her.
Wait! Where were those ferien anyway? And where was she? For this didn't look like any orc hideout she had been at. The place being too clean and to bright. Besides, it had a sense of magical feel in the air, protecting.
Suddenly the door opened, revealing a creature about the same hight as Frêllian. Her long blonde locks held a few silver strands due to her age, but her eyes were the same dark color as Frêllian's.
'My lady,' the ferian said with a small courtesy. 'You have awakened.'
'Tell me,' Frêllian growled at the newcomer, while trying to stand up at the same time. 'Why have you brought me here? Where is Fêrram! Bring me to that scumbag.'
'I fear you are mistaken my identity, my lady,' she answered as she moved over to Frêllian, unfazed by the dangerous growling of the injured ferian. 'I am not in league with traitorous pack. I am a friend and you are safe here, in Rivendell.'
'Rivendell? Why am I here?'
Giving the female the benefit of the doubt, Frêllian leaned back onto the bed. With the ferian standing close to her now, she realized she didn't recognize her scent. Well, at least that part was true. So perhaps the part about the elven city was true as well.
The ferian put down a bowl of water and asked if she was allowed to clean Frêllian's wound, to which Frêllian simply nodded. Keeping a close eye on her every move. One wrong move, and this stranger would never see Lüna rise again!
'What is your name?'
'Gírla, my lady,' was the answer, as she looked at Frêllian for a moment.
'Gírla?' Gírla nodded. 'Well, I am…'
'I already know who you are,' Gírla said excitedly, while pressing the damp cloth over the wound. 'You are lady Frêllian, daughter of Cànna. We all know who you are, my lady.'
Confused, Frêllian just stared at the ferian. Not only wondering how she knew about her, but also why kept addressing her as 'my lady'. Back at the pack they never used titles. But before she could question Gírla, the ferian had already skillfully wrapped up her wound, gently placing a sling around Frêllian's neck.
'Just let your arm rest for a couple of days and you will be fine,' Gírla informed her and Frêllian nodded once again. 'Selèna must really favor you, child. Now, come on, the pack wants to meet you.'
With that said, the elder ferian lead the way through the halls. Along the way, she informed Frêllian her pack had settled with the elves a long time ago. Needing a safe haven after the betrayal of the main pack. And with their dwarven alpha – 'your father, dear' Gírla added after seeing Frêllian's confused look - not wanting to have anything to do with ferien anymore, they sought out refuge with the elves.
'So basically, is was either serve Fêrram and join the orcs, or flee,' the ferian ended her story. 'You can guess what we few chose. Ah, look we're here.'
Entering the gardens, Frêllian spotted a couple of ferien sitting around a fire. She counted about eight heads, though there might be some missing. Still, none of them were any known ferien to her.
'We may be few in number, but at least we have remained loyal to our leaders,' Gírla told her as she noticed Frêllian looking. Then she turned her head towards the small pack. 'Now where are your manners, you bunch of fleebags! Our alpha has returned!'

Dwalin stompped around in anger. They had been here for about an hour now and still no trace of Frêllian. The tracks had lead them to Imladris, where the elves have assured him the ferian was in good hands. But until he had seen her for himself, he found it hard to believe. He just didn't trust a pointy ear.
And while he had spotted a couple of ferien, Frêllian wasn't amongst them. But at least one of them had informed him it had been them to have brought her here. That 'my lady' was walking around again and feeling fine. But that had been all the young lad had told him, before quickly leaving.
'Argh, this isn't gonna get us anywhere,' the bald warrior growls in frustration. 'No one here will tell us where Frêllian is!'
'I am sure she will be present at the diner,' Balin tried to calm his brother down, as he watched the bald dwarf continue to stomp around. 'If what the ferien have told us is true, then there is no reason for her not to be present.'
Dwalin stopped for a moment, glaring at some passing elves. He still didn't understand why the tracks have lead them to the elves. Elves and ferien weren't suppose to get along! From what he had heard from Frêllian, it was because orcs descent from elves and ferien hate orcs! Well, they did, once…
But here he found them living in peace in this elven city. Taking a stroll through the gardens, playing some sort of board game. He had even seen them sparring together! The ridiculousness! Besides, why were these ferien not with their pack?
A young ferian passed them by and Dwalin turned his glare at the male.
Oh yes, he had recognized some of them! He had seen them with the pack. Gírla even used to be a good friend of Cànna. And to know to which pack these ferien belonged to concerned him.
'But what if they do not speak the truth, Balin?'
'In that case, Frêllian will find her way to us anyway.'
Dwalin turned to face his brother again, to see the older dwarf smile at him. How could he even be so optimistic? Even Thorin didn't want to linger here longer than needed. Too many elves and too many ferien.
'Dwalin,' Balin continued as he looked at the worried brother. 'She had your blood running through her veins. She is strong, do not forget about that. Now, it seems dinner is ready.'
With that said, Balin followed his comrades to the courtyard. But not before giving his brother a not so gentle nudge, to get him to move as well.