A/N: Thank you to SerpensPrincess for being the first to review and galvanising me into writing this chapter.
Disclaimer: None of my work belongs to me, it is solely the property of the one and only J.K. Rowling and any other company which has the copyright of Harry Potter, including Warner Bros. Nothing here belongs to me; all the characters are J.K. Rowling's originally, though any new character not part of the Harry Potter series belongs to me.
Title: I stand for freedom
Author: hpjkrowling4ever
Chapter Two
Rhys was pacing back and forth in his office, one of his hands lifted to his chin and the other tapping at his thigh. Harry, still reeling from his meeting with Angel, was lying on the sofa, his eyes closed. The fire crackled merrily, and apart from Rhys' anxious movements, the moment was peaceful, and exactly what Harry needed to digest what had happened.
"A mind link? Harry, this is huge!" Rhys stopped in front of Harry, and snapped his fingers in front of his face until Harry opened his eyes blearily. He frowned at Rhys.
"Please don't." Harry shook himself. "I'm sorry, it's just that I've never experienced something so wonderful in my life, and I don't want to let go of it."
Reluctantly, Rhys calmed himself down and smiled gently down at Harry.
"I'm told that feeling the magic of a fae, any fae, is life changing. To feel the magic of a Gold Fae…" Rhys whistled lowly. Harry smiled.
"I need to meet some of these other faes you're talking about," he said, stretching lethargically. He yawned.
Rhys looked at him contemplatively, tapping his cheek. Harry looked back evenly, wishing that he was still back with Angel. There was something so serene about being around him, so calming, that Harry wanted to be back there. And Ismay…she was brilliant. Harry could tell that, with lots of love and care, she would be quite the character. Unbeknownst to Harry, an absent smile stretched across his face, but Rhys saw it and it made up his mind.
"Come here tomorrow morning, and I'll introduce you to some other of our creatures who have sanctuary here. We had a few faes here until recently, when they felt they were strong enough to leave and we agreed with them. Most of them were mated, and had left their families to come here for sanctuary. We currently have two faes left here, one mated, one unmated."
"What's up with them?" Harry asked. "And what type of fae are they?"
"The mated one is a Silver Fae. He was in a nasty fight with a manticore and came here for healing. He's almost sorted, and his family comes quite regularly to visit."
"So, you're not just a sanctuary, you're also a hospital?" Harry asked in confusion.
Rhys nodded.
"Only for magical creatures. St. Mungo's is still quite prejudiced against them, and we provide non-judgemental care."
Harry sighed in annoyance. Though Kingsley was a good Minister, every move he made was like fighting in an upstream battle.
"The unmated fae is an Offensive Fae. He was caught in the crossfire in the War, and his right wing was injured. He reacts badly to loud sounds, but otherwise is fine. He's recuperating now, and going through therapy for his PTSD."
"How many different types of fae are there? And is there a fae community out there?" Harry asked with keen interest. Having now met Angel, he wanted to know more.
Rhys sat down beside him and stared into the fire.
"Most magical creatures have communities. The werewolf community was almost decimated by Fenrir Greyback, who used to be an excellent leader but Voldemort corrupted him. It's getting back on its feet, thanks to you."
"One of my surrogate godparents was a werewolf. I wanted to do something in his memory," Harry whispered, the blank face of Remus flashing before his eyes, replaced by the laughing one of Teddy. Rhys, recognising Harry's pain, put a hand on his shoulder in sympathy before going back to his explanation.
"The Veela community is based in France. They hold meetings every two months for all the veelas worldwide, and it is also an opportunity for any new mated couples to introduce themselves and for new mates to be found. Most humanoid creatures have a base country, and that is where meetings are held. Centaurs, for example, meet near ancient sites such as Stonehenge regularly. Other magical creatures, like vampires, are more solitary, but operate in covens."
"And faes?" Harry asked. Rhys smiled.
"There are five types of faes: silver, offensive, defensive, healing, and gold. Their main base is in Ireland, the Emerald Isle. They are rumoured to be closely linked with the Faerie community. They work intimately with nature, caring for it and defending it. They also blend in seamlessly with our human societies, and for faes who have mated with humans, their children often grow up as humans with fae attributes, but only come into a full inheritance at seventeen, the wizarding age of majority. Sometimes, offspring of humans and faes don't ever inherit, but their descendants may. Silver and Gold Faes are the most hidden, normally, and it is difficult for human descendants of fae to inherit their attributes. Silver and Gold Faes will always mate with at least one fae and one wizard, sometimes two fae, but never two wizards. I explained about their mates' properties earlier," Rhys described, looking carefully at Harry's reactions.
Harry had a faraway look in his eyes, taking everything in. Rhys smiled secretly to himself. He had been lucky enough to be present when one of his previous employees had bonded with a fae, and the moment had been so special that he knew he would cherish it forever. Looking at Harry now, Rhys had no doubt in his mind that Harry and the Gold Fae were Destined. He had never heard of a Gold Fae establishing such an intimate link with anyone without their magic accepting the person as someone safe. He was so traumatised, though, that Rhys hoped Harry would connect with the Offensive Fae who had been lying in his ward for so many months now. Having both his mates nearby would help the Gold Fae and Ismay immeasurably. Rhys loved his magical creatures with all his heart; it was his calling, his vocation, to make sure that they all survived, and he could see the same deep care that he had for all those beings reflected in Harry's eyes.
He had never had the honour of meeting Harry Potter before, and to be honest, he had never thought that he would. The sacrifice that Harry had willingly made of himself for the whole Wizarding World was something incomprehensible to Rhys. That a seventeen-year-old boy had done that blew Rhys' mind, and he knew he would never be able to thank Harry enough for the freedom he had given to not just him, but every magical creature whose chances of surviving increased dramatically in a world without the prejudices of Lord Voldemort. The waves that Harry Potter was making in the Ministry were becoming legendary. His deep-seated hatred of bureaucracy was well-known, and Rhys had often chuckled about it with his friends. He could see that Harry had already formed a deep attachment to Ismay and the Gold Fae, and he wished that he knew what was putting that wistful, longing look on Harry's face.
"Harry?" Rhys asked, loath to interrupt what was obviously a beautiful memory for Harry. He touched Harry's arm and immediately snatched it back when Harry sprung back. There was a moment of awkward silence and then Harry ran his hand through his hair.
"Sorry, sorry!" Harry chuckled sheepishly. "It's just…I was thinking about the fae, and how he was reacting, and I just automatically reacted like that." He chuckled nervously. "And I suppose I'm not great at surprise touches as well."
"I should have worked that out, I'm sorry. You lived through a war, after all, and I'm dealing with PTSD patients," Rhys apologised. Harry waved him away casually, yawning.
"Nah, don't worry. I'm not usually like this. If I was, Merlin knows that my friends would be missing limbs by now. They surprise me so much I'm practically over it." Harry stood up and cracked his back. He yawned again. "I'm beat. I'll be back tomorrow, first thing. What time do you open?"
Rhys stood up, chuckling.
"We're always open. Come whenever you're ready."
"You're so going to regret saying that," Harry murmured, almost under his breath. Rhys heard him and smiled, but decided not to comment and instead put out his hand. Harry shook it, his eyes shining.
Before Flooing home, Harry had decided to stop by Hermione and Ron's. He walked through an slowly emptying Diagon Alley, and Flooed from the Leaky Cauldron. George and Lee Jordan had developed a spell that allowed people to Floo from wherever they wanted, and the Floo connection keyed into the person's magical signature instead of the location's and allowed them in based on that. It had totally revolutionised Floo travel, and at that moment Harry was eternally grateful for it.
As he always did, he stumbled upon exiting the Floo, but as always, he was caught by whoever happened to be in the room at the time. On this occasion, it was Ron who was there, and he righted Harry.
"When will you learn, mate?" Ron asked, a joking smile on his freckled face. As always, Harry was immensely relieved to see Ron; his best friend had not changed much over the years, and Harry was thankful for his unwavering support (almost) all the time.
Hermione had obviously heard the Floo chime, because she walked into the room, an ink smudge on her nose and a roll of parchment in her hands. Ron smiled fondly and moved to Scourgify her nose, giving it an absent-minded kiss when he was done. Hermione blushed, but brightened when she saw Harry.
"Harry! We weren't expecting you!" she said, walking over to him and giving one of her trademark hugs. Harry sank into it and hugged her back tightly.
"When do I need an excuse to come and visit you, 'Mione?" he asked, pulling back and raising an eyebrow to look at her. She laughed and smacked him over the head with her roll of parchment. He rubbed the spot and frowned at her, but couldn't hold it for long.
"You're looking brighter," she said perceptively, running her eyes over him. Ron had noticed, too, and before Hermione could even open her mouth, he had Summoned three butterbeers from their kitchen and was settling down in one of the armchairs around the fire. Harry grabbed one and spread himself on their sofa, stretching out his legs. Hermione sat on the floor, as was her custom in situation where the three of them were alone and together.
"I think I've found something to do again," Harry announced. Hermione's eyes lit up and Ron looked excited. "Okay, I wasn't that bad, was I?"
"Mate, you were awful. It was like fifth year all over again. Though this year was better than last year. Ginny agreed with us. She was going to do something drastic if it didn't get better." Ron drank from his bottle, ignoring Harry's injured look.
"You'd think that breaking up with Harry would have been drastic enough," Hermione mused. Ron chuckled. Harry glowered at them both, his rush of affection towards them diminishing at a rapid pace.
"Nah, Gin could never have settled for the quietness Harry wanted. She's like Charlie. I'm just glad you guys got over it nicely." Ron shook his hand out. "And Harry's my brother anyway without marrying her, like Mum would ever have given him up."
"What did I do to deserve you guys?" Harry said melodramatically, wiping his brow, but he knew Ron and Hermione could tell how touched he was by Ron's words. Ron gave a snort of laughter.
"You're in a pretty good mood," he observed. Hermione's curiosity seemed to have been properly roused now, and she looked earnestly at Harry, who gave in immediately.
He started talking about his day, going through finding the building and then the meeting with Rhys and what he did with people and magical creatures. He paused before talking about the fae, not wanting to talk about something that felt so personal for a moment. Hermione caught on pretty quick, as she always did.
"You met one of his magical creatures, didn't you?" Hermione asked.
"I did more than meet one." Harry took a deep breath. "Before you panic, Rhys is an Empath, and I felt like I could trust him immediately."
Ron looked skeptical.
"You don't just trust people immediately, Harry," he pointed out, looking towards Hermione for confirmation. She was so intent on Harry that she didn't seem to register that Ron was looking for her support.
"I think Harry has something really important he wants to tell us about," Hermione said. "Go on, Harry."
Harry smiled gratefully at her.
"Rhys saw something interesting in my mind."
"In your mind?" Ron shouted, standing up. "Harry, are you mad? Do you remember last time someone was in your mind?" He looked furious with Harry, but Hermione shot him a look and he subsided, sitting back down in his seat.
"Look, I know, and I was worried as well, but Rhys runs a rehabilitation centre and a refuge. He's also an Empath and reminded me a bit of Remus," Harry's voice wavered slightly, and Hermione leaned across the floor to squeeze Harry's knee. "I didn't think he was going to do anything to me. He was kind and gentle and he saw that I was a Destined."
"A what?" Hermione asked, looking rather put out that Harry had announced something she didn't know. She glanced over at Ron, but he was gaping at Harry in amazement.
"You're a Destined? A real, live Destined?" he asked, his anger completely gone.
Hermione was looking more and more put out.
"What is a Destined?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. Ron launched into an explanation that had her eyes widening in Harry's direction.
"Yeah, that was my reaction too," Harry said, smiling. "But he was most interested by my magic. He said that it was so inclined towards Healing that he wanted me to help him out with a project of his. Maybe he did it because my magic was like that, but I think he also did it because I'm Harry Potter and I sacrificed myself. I think he figured that he could trust me."
Hermione was looking at Harry as if he was a book she would especially love to study. Ron and Hermione were no strangers to Harry's magic, having been there when Harry had had his magic examined by a Healer. They had even tried to get him to go into Healing, but Harry had solidly refused.
"What did he get you to do, Harry?" Hermione asked.
"Okay, so this is a secret, don't tell anyone," Harry warned, lifting a finger. Ron rolled his eyes.
"Yes, because we're so good at telling your secrets," he said sarcastically. "Come on, mate!"
"Okay, okay. It's just…it was really special. There was an injured and abused Gold Fae there." Harry looked at his friends. Hermione was frowning, and before Ron could launch into another explanation, Harry did it. "Gold Fae are some of the most cherished, special fae in the world. They have the ability to carry their young, and their young is their priority, over every single thing in the world. They're meant to have two Destineds. One is normally human, the other a fae. They must have skill in Offensive, Defensive and Healing magic to be able to protect their child in every way possible."
"What happened to the fae?" Hermione asked, looking as if she would rather not know the answer. Ron had put down his butterbeer and was looking uncharacteristically serious.
"They raped him, didn't they?" Ron asked bluntly. Hermione flinched and stared at Harry in horror.
"And worse, Ron. I took one step forward and he flinched back. I was metres away from him as well," Harry said, swallowing and looking away. "He was so injured. He was so beautiful. I've never seen anything so stunning and precious in my whole life. I feel like nothing can measure up to that purity I saw." He closed his eyes, picturing Angel standing there with his wings outstretched. "And he had a daughter. She had been born early in his captivity, because she was four years old. Exceptionally well-spoken."
"The young of humanoid creatures usually are," Hermione said in a small voice, as if telling her boyfriend and her best friend facts could take away from the horror of the trauma.
"She's called Ismay. She has the softest blonde hair and incredible gold eyes. She's something else. I know that she was created from a rape, but she looks exactly like the fae, and I don't think she could be more loved."
"Harry?" Hermione asked tentatively, sliding over so that her elbow was leaning on the sofa cushion by his knee. Her eyes met Harry's and she saw the shadows there left from the War melting away as he thought of the fae and his daughter. They seemed to glow with some inner power he had tapped into, and Hermione realised with a sudden jolt that the fae had caught that part of Harry's heart that she once thought belonged to Ginny. And oblivious as Harry was, she knew that he had yet to realise it.
"Yeah?" Harry gave her a soft smile, one that he reserved for his closest friends. Hermione had seen little of it in the years following the War, and was delighted to see it back. She could feel Ron staring at them, and hoped that he would recognise the look in Harry's eyes for what it was.
"I'm so glad that you've found this fae, and it sounds like you'll be perfect for him," she said, leaning up and kissing Harry's forehead. "Now, if you're going to be there bright and early, I'd recommend that you go to sleep now."
Harry gave her a tired smile and stood up. She was glad that he was taking her advice, and stood up with him. Impulsively, she gave him a tight hug. Her heart was beating fast, and she felt slightly unsteady with the relief coursing through her.
"I'm glad you're back, Harry," she whispered. She saw Ron stand up and walk over to join their hug.
"Me too, mate, me too."
They stayed wrapped in the hug for long moments before Harry slowly extricated himself and moved to the Floo. As the fire blazed green and Harry disappeared, Hermione threw her arms around Ron and laughed in delight.
"It seems like we're going to have a fae in the family!"
"You saw that too?" Ron asked, laughing and twirling her around. She saw the same relief she felt reflected in his eyes.
"I'm so happy, Ron," she murmured, burying her head in his shoulder. Ron wrapped his arms around her, and the feeling of safety she always felt in Ron's arms washed over her. He put his hand on the back of her head and kissed her temple.
The next morning, Harry arrived at the refuge bright and early. He walked into the building with a spring in his step, and greeted Gabi, who was writing furiously behind the desk, with a big smile. She smiled back.
"I see that yesterday went well," she observed. Harry didn't know if she knew about Angel, so he said nothing, but nodded.
"Did Rhys leave something for me to do?" he asked curiously, making his way to the desk and leaning on it. Gabi frowned for a moment, thinking about his question. She put her quill in her mouth and Harry watched, quietly amused, as ink from the quill nib travelled down and stained her mouth. She started coughing when she tasted it and suddenly unbalanced on her chair and fell onto the ground. Alarmed, Harry leant over further, but relaxed when he heard Gabi laughing. He smiled in relief.
"I'm so clumsy, sorry about that!" She stood up, bouncing on the balls of her feet with restrained energy. "Yes, Rhys said that you could go to the MC ward." She looked at him expectantly, and he looked back at her equally expectantly. "Ah. You don't know where that is, do you?"
"No, I don't," Harry said, smiling gently. She sighed and looked conflicted.
"I'm technically not allowed to leave my desk, and you're so early that most of the other people who work here aren't here yet. Wait!" she dived under the desk, leaving Harry deeply confused until she popped up again holding an orb. "It's a Direction Orb. MC Ward," she announced confidently, and the orb glowed green before announcing that Harry needed to go through the double doors he had gone through yesterday. She handed the orb to Harry.
"Thanks, Gabi," he said, smiling at her. She smiled back and waved him away.
Harry tried very hard to remember where the orb was leading him, but he got steadily more and more confused as it led him through a few doors, down some long corridors and then it stopped him in front of a high wooden door. Harry could feel the magic buzzing, but it receded almost as soon as he came into contact with him, allowing him through. He assumed that Rhys must have keyed him into the wards leading to the section with the magical creatures in it.
He pushed the doors open and jumped a bit when the orb vibrated in his hand briefly before going red and silent. Harry assumed that he was there, and looked up. He immediately recognised a waiting area, with cushy sofas and a pile of different magazines and newspapers on tables near them. There were a few fires roaring in the grates, and there was a desk in the middle of the room, but it was currently empty. Harry sighed to himself; he knew that he was early, but he hadn't realised he was that early.
"May I help you?" a deep, strong voice said. It had a trace of an Irish accent to it. Harry whirled around and came face-to-face with a ridiculously tall and muscular man. However, after a moment of observing him, Harry realised that he had to be anything but human. He carried himself unnaturally well; his hair was black, long, tied up in a bun, but seemed to shine with an eerie sheen. His eyes were deep violet and Harry felt like they could see in his very soul. He shivered. The man carried no wand, and was dressed in a long black robe with a high collar, giving Harry the distinct impression that he was native to a different culture. Something about him felt vaguely threatening, though Harry couldn't place what.
"Erm…I'm here because this…erm…orb led me here," Harry announced, feeling very wrong-footed, though he didn't know why.
"You're not a fae," the man announced.
"Erm…no, no I'm not," Harry agreed, aborting his automatic shrug before it even started. He thought that the man wouldn't appreciate it, somehow.
"You're not a magical creature," the man continued, taking a step forward. Harry took an automatic step back and put his hand in his pocket, feeling for his wand. The man snapped his fingers and his wand flew out of his pocket into his hand.
"Hey!" Harry shouted, and his magic reacted automatically, bursting out and forming a translucent shield in front of Harry. He vaguely registered the man's eyebrows rising and him lifting his hands up in a non-threatening gesture.
"I apologise," he said loudly, his voice coming through the shield sounding a bit distorted. Harry reigned back his instinctive reaction and his shield disappeared.
"Can I have my wand back, thanks?" he asked irritably. His feeling of discomfort had increased dramatically.
The man threw Harry's wand into the air and it floated slowly towards Harry, who snatched it out of the air but did not put it back in his pocket.
"May I ask why you are here if you are neither a fae nor a magical creature?" the man asked.
"Why are you talking about fae?" Harry grumbled, still out of sorts, though he was calming down.
"You have the mark of a fae on your magic," the man stated. "Not any fae either; a gold one. I was concerned that you might be a threat since no human has ever treated a gold fae the way they deserve. I felt your magic, though, and I knew at once that you were no such thing. I apologise for my reaction," the man gave an odd little half-bow, and Harry decided that he needed a coffee. He put his wand in his pocket and smiled tentatively.
"I'm Harry," he said, holding out his hand. The man hesitated for a short time before taking Harry's hand in his own. He felt a similar shock of magic that he had yesterday when he and Angel had touched, and he reared back at the same time as the man took a half-step back.
"You're a fae!" Harry burst out. "You must be the Offensive fae Rhys was talking about!"
"You have a mind-link with a gold fae!" the other fae bit out. Harry could see the wonder etched clearly on his face. "How?" he breathed.
"That's not for me to say," Harry said shortly. "Why did I feel that shock with you?" he asked.
"That's not for me to say," the fae repeated with a wry half-smile.
Harry sighed, knowing that he had deserved that. He knew that he must have looked quite put out at the situation, because the fae seemed to take a hold of himself.
"My apologies. I'm Elliot." The fae gestured to the seats in the waiting area. "I fear we got off to a wrong start. Please sit down. I'll get something to drink and we can talk to each other."
Harry decided that that was quite a solid plan and fell down thankfully on a really comfortable sofa that moulded itself to his body shape as soon as he sank down in it. Elliot disappeared from the room and came back moments later with two mugs of coffee.
"I assumed that at this time of the morning, you might prefer something strong. I certainly do," Elliot announced, sitting down in the armchair beside Harry's sofa. Harry took the mug with a smile.
"Thank you," he said. Elliot blew on his mug before looking back at Harry. "You're quite formal," Harry observed, seeing how Elliot was sitting perfectly in his chair, even though it was a comfortable armchair.
"I am twenty-five. The reason I am so formal is because I have grown up with the faes in Ireland, and we are quite a formal society. My parents, my siblings and I moved here when I was seven. My father is the chief ambassador for the fae community with the British Ministry of Magic. Who are you, Harry?"
"That's quite a loaded question," Harry muttered. "Let's see how up-to-date you are. My full name is Harry Potter."
The fae's eyebrows went up.
"Your magic is different to what I expected," Elliot said. It was an unexpected question, and Harry laughed when he heard it.
"Thank you for asking something original," he chuckled. Elliot smiled. Harry was taken aback by the way the smile made Elliot's face light up. He recovered himself after a moment of silence. "The War left plenty of scars on me, but the best thing it did was bring out the Healing and Defensive aspects of my magic."
"I felt that," Elliot nodded, sipping his coffee. Harry followed suit and there was a moment of comfortable silence before Elliot spoke up again. "Tell me why you're here."
"I came across this place yesterday. I've been trying to find something to do with myself since the War finished, so I entered. I met Rhys, Gabi and her daughter. Rhys took me on, and because of my magic he asked if I could help with…erm…the magical creatures here. He mentioned that there were two faes here," Harry said.
"Yes, and a centaur, four werewolves, one siren, two veela and a goblin. They were very busy here following the War, and after my wing was healed I stayed here for therapy. I am feeling a lot better now, but I am not quite healed. I offered to help out here while I was waiting to be signed off. It is a very peaceful place," Elliot said, looking around. Harry could see the deep-seated contentment Elliot felt, and finally relaxed completely.
"I'm sorry for not introducing myself immediately when I came in," Harry said, smiling apologetically. "You took me by surprise."
Elliot laughed. It was a wonderfully bright, happy sound, and Harry's smile grew wider.
"I never quite learnt the art of blending in," Elliot replied, still chuckling. "My sisters are much better at it than I am, but I am very proud of my heritage and I want everyone to know what I am. I hide my wings now, because of what happened," Elliot's smile disappeared, and Harry saw the same haunted look appear in his eyes that Harry often saw in his own and his friends' sometimes.
"They were injured," Harry stated, not inviting any more from Elliot, and he seemed to appreciate it. His smile reappeared, though slightly dampened, and he took a long look at Harry. He decided that he liked what he saw, and elaborated.
"Yes, they were. I was with my father. Ambassadorship is inherited in our community. My family has held the fae ambassadorship for centuries, and my father was training me to take over. Lord Voldemort's government had called in all the representatives of the magical creature states, and while we were all in that meeting room, his henchman started firing at us." Elliot looked away, and Harry lowered his eyes out of respect. The event had obviously been suppressed, because Harry had never heard that it had happened. "So many of us died. My father and I survived because of our wings. Offensive fae have very strong wings. We can withstand some of the strongest hexes and a fair few curses. We escaped, and we found this place in Diagon. My family took refuge here while my father and I were healed. My father was healed a lot faster than I was, because he is many years older than me and thus his magic has settled. I have been here since the end of the war."
"Your family moved back?" Harry whispered, not wanting to raise his voice.
"No, we are still here, trying to make inroads on behalf of the fae with the new government. In comparison to Lord Voldemort, it is a much more satisfying one to work with," Elliot said.
"I'm sorry for what happened to you," Harry said sincerely. "I'm sorry that it happened."
"It is not your fault, Harry Potter," Elliot said, but the half-smile on his face told Harry that he had appreciated his apology. "I am much better now. But do tell me why you have the magic of a gold fae on yours."
Harry chuckled nervously.
"I don't think it's my secret to tell," he answered, shifting in his seat. Elliot looked at him for a long moment.
"As son of the fae ambassador, I must know where you interacted with a gold fae. We thought that we had rescued all the gold fae and sent them back to Ireland." Elliot looked rather anxious. "They are so precious, Harry. There are so few of them, and we look after every single one of them. The magical signature on yours is different to all the fae I know."
"That's because this particular fae came into his inheritance when the War kicked off," Harry murmured, Angel's face appeared in his mind's eye. "He thought he was a human."
Elliot put down his coffee cup and stared at Harry.
"He's injured?" he asked, a slight note of hysteria in his voice. "Someone injured a Gold Fae?"
Harry shook his head. It wasn't in denial, but because he knew that he didn't want to reveal any more. Elliot looked appalled.
"I'm going to talk to Rhys about it," Elliot decided, looking determined.
"Please don't," Harry said desperately. "I've already told you too much, but trust me when I say that Rhys has it in hand. Elliot, listen to me." He put a hand on Elliot's arm, stopping the fae from rising. Elliot subsided but still looked unhappy. "For some reason, this fae trusts me. Trust me when I tell you that there is much more to the story than you know. Let me do what I can with him, and then I will ask for your help."
"You must let me tell my father," Elliot said, looking mutinous. "I don't think you understand how awful this is, Harry."
"Even if I didn't understand the intricacies of your culture, which I don't, I understand injured and hurting people, Elliot. Let me help him. It would be too much for him if you or your father came barging in. He's in his full fae form, and can't speak verbally."
Harry was aghast to see that Elliot's eyes had started tearing up.
"What? What did I say?" Harry asked, moving to kneel in front of Elliot, who swiped at his eyes angrily.
"When a fae is in their full form and non-verbal, it means that they have been so traumatised that they have buried themselves underneath their instincts," Elliot took a deep, shaky breath. It was quite odd to see such a strong person look so fragile, and Harry's heart beat out a staccato rhythm, and he felt a powerful urge to make Elliot feel better.
"Hey, hey," Harry slowly put his hand on Elliot's thigh, and squeezed when his touch wasn't pushed away. "Give me some time, until he becomes verbal again. Then let me get his permission to talk to your father. You can tell your father, but tell him not to interfere. I won't do anything to hurt him, I promise you. But I'm probably more familiar to him than fae at the moment. He's been a captive since his inheritance."
Elliot gave a sharp nod. He put his hand on top of Harry's and squeezed. Harry smiled, a faint blush on his cheeks.
"Thank you, Harry," he whispered. There was a moment of easy silence between them before Elliot rose, taking Harry with him. "Let me introduce you to the other people in this ward, seeing as you are so keen to help."
Harry gave a half-hearted chuckle, still reeling from the depth of emotion he and Elliot had just shared between them. But the sparkling eyes of the fae in front of him persuaded Harry, and he followed Elliot deeper into the ward.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed that! Let me know if you enjoyed it (reviews encourage me to write *winks*)
