Grey Ships, Part I – Paths to Tread
Disclaimer: This story is based off of characters and situations and places created by JK Rowling and JRR Tolkien. I in no way own any of the characters recognizable as coming from their worlds. And if they really wanted Ainion, Aeriel, Caladwen or Megilwen, they could have them. Or rather, Tolkien and his heirs could take them. But that's about it.
Author's Note 1: Yes, I know there is no Lord of the Rings material in the prologue. That begins with chapter one, and will continue throughout the story, so don't worry, there will be plenty of elves later...
Prologue – Lullabies and Nightmares
He could hear her singing a lullaby, even though he was sixteen, and considered himself long past the age of being sung to sleep. Not that his mother had ever sung him to sleep in his life. Draco yawned, curling in a ball under the covers of the unfamiliar bed, turning away from where his aunt sang. He could feel the damp and drying trails of tears on his face. Tears he had fought so hard not to shed in the face of the sorrow and sympathy of an aunt he'd never met, and rejected sight unseen because of her husband.
Fingers came to rest on his head, stroking his hair, an unfamiliar gesture he shied away from. Andromeda's voice faltered a moment, but she didn't stop singing, and after a long moment, he fell into a restless, uneasy sleep, plagued by nightmares. Green light, his parents lifeless bodies, the eerie laugh of his aunt Bellatrix. The sneering faces of Lestrange and Nott as they told his father it was the price for incompetence. Running for his life across the dangerous, potential lethal Malfoy lands, hearing the angry curses of the Death Eaters behind him.
He woke with a start, sweating, the sheets tangled around his feet, pinning them to the bed as his head rested on the wooden floor. The house around him wasn't the almost tomb-like silence of the Manor, and he frowned for a moment, trying to remember where he was. A rustle from the door alerted him to the presence of someone else, and he started to struggle with the bed sheets again.
"Draco?" His aunt's soft voice called, concerned. There was the rustle of her nightgown again, and a moment later, she came into sight around the end of the bed. "Draco, are you alright?" she asked as she knelt beside him, helping him to untangle himself from the sheets.
"I'm fine," he snapped in reply, his jaw clenching. "Get away from me!" He shoved her away, ignoring the hurt expression on her face. Standing, he balanced himself against the bed-post a moment before stalking towards the door, pausing only long enough to grab his wand and cloak.
"Draco!" Andromeda followed him, and stepping between him and the door. "You know you can't leave. It's not safe outside of this house, or Hogwarts, not right now."
"I don't care!" Draco glared at her, his eyes narrowed. "I am not staying here with you and that pathetic Mudblood husband of yours! Get out of my way!" He leveled his wand at her, his jaw clenched tightly enough to hurt. He wanted away from her and her smothering sympathy. He didn't need her, didn't need Dumbledore's solicitude. He was a Malfoy, without need for anyone else but himself!
"I can't let you go out there, Draco." Andromeda gave him a pleading look, reaching out one hand. It was a mistake, and he snarled out a curse. She had her wand in her other hand, and he heard her call out a spell, but didn't notice what as the two spells impacted. They reacted violently, the explosion of magic knocking him backwards. His head hit something hard, and he fell into blackness.