Author's Note: My god, your guys' support is so encouraging. I thought I would be updating this story once every month or two, but I am flying through it thanks to all of your encouragement. Sorry if I haven't replied to your review, but rest assured that I have read and appreciated all of them.

And they keep coming:

We speech forms will never die out; we will continue multiplying until the end! = Mental communication


Chapter 7: A Council of Ninnies

"There is nothing more you can do here, Estel. The two only need rest now; go and enjoy the company of the aware and leave the wounded to their recovery."

"Very well, My Lord Elrond. But, please, send for me if either of them awake."

The sound of heavy boots making their way from the bed across the room and the solid thunk that ended the sound signaled to Harry that Strider had finally left. The wizard had woken up hours ago, once his magic had restored itself enough to accelerate his return to consciousness. His body had already nearly completely recovered from the bruises and breaks it had received, which he could only assume was the work of the elves who had been moving in and out of the room constantly. Rather than moving and alerting those present to his condition, Harry had decided to instead feign sleep and reached out with his mind to his familiar.

Before the wave hit, Harry had managed to whisper the words that activated the protection spells that he had placed on Luna and Manny years ago. He shivered as he pictured what could have happened if he had never put those precautions into place.

While the wizard himself could take the damage from the rocks and knew he would be patched up, Luna would have been in much greater danger if she had gotten hurt without Harry able to immediately heal her. A broken leg for a horse was often a fatal injury as their owners had no use for a pack animal that can't walk and while Harry didn't think the elves would put down his horse without his consent, he was glad he didn't have to take that risk. Not to mention, while the elves might have been able to help Luna, Manny would have been on his own; Harry hadn't yet told anyone of his scaly familiar, and the snake would have probably been left to drown in the flood without any protection.

As soon as Harry had regained consciousness, he had searched out the connection forged between his mind and Manny's to ensure that the wards had been effective in keeping the snake safe. Their mind link was rusty from lack of use; the two were usually always together, with Manny wrapped around the wizard's shoulders or stomach, and it took a lot of panicked yelling on Harry's part before he finally got a response.

Manny, as it turned out, had been flung out of the water when Harry hit his head, where he had landed harmlessly on the grass thanks to the spells. He had then proceeded to hitch a ride on one of the distracted elves who came to rescue Harry before finally sneaking under the bed in which they placed his human in. The next twenty-four hours were, according to Manny, filled with "desperate pleas to a cruel, heartless deity and long, sleepless hours of worry". The only bright spot was that the snake had been able to assure the slightly panicked wizard that Luna had made it out without a scratch as well. Harry had taken the rant with a fond smile after that, so relieved at his friends' safety that he didn't even feel the need to point out that Manny had been snoring peacefully enough when the wizard first woke up.

Once their happy reunion was ruined by an off-hand comment from Manny (You know what would have made those pain-filled hours more bearable? That lady friend you promised me months ago and still haven't delivered. Snakes have needs, human minion.), Harry had sent the slippery snake out to scout the grounds of Rivendell. It was bad enough that he had no idea where the Elven city was in the first place as he hadn't yet had time to check the guide's maps, but since he had been unconscious when he was brought in, Harry didn't even know how to leave if a hasty escape was needed.

Since then Harry had kept still on the soft cot, regulating his breathing for appearances. His attention was split between listening in on the conversations around him and looking through his familiar's eyes as he tried to direct his ADD snake in finding the exits and where Luna was being held. It didn't work out very well.

After finally giving up on the scouting mission, Harry told Manny that he could roam around on his own and focused in on those around him. From what he had heard, Frodo was recovering in a bed on the other side of the room near the door. The other hobbits were forbidden from visiting their friend yet and only light-footed elven healers who murmured distastefully about evil filth tainting their sacred Hall of Healing glided around the room, tending to Frodo as he slept. Harry was just contemplating the best way of terrifying the obnoxious nurses to alieve his boredom when a man, Strider, going by his voice, and another elf entered the room. The others had immediately left the room to allow the two privacy, bowing and giving blessings to Strider's companion.

From their conversation, Harry learned that Frodo had been healed just in time and would be fine after a few days of rest. Also, to the wizard's relief, the elf mentioned that the hobbits were eagerly awaiting the chance to see Harry as well as their friend. This was also when he realized that his ruse was up.

Once Strider left the room, Harry finally opened his eyes and turned his head towards the only other conscious being in the room. A male elf of noble stature and long, dark locks stood at Frodo's bedside, his eyes trained on the wizard's form. He didn't seem to be angry or condescending at Harry's failed trickery, but rather looked curious. His countenance was similar to that of Treebeard's; it spoke of an aged wisdom and the patience and time to outwait Harry until he got the answers he desired.

"How did you know I was awake? " Harry asked directly. He had participated in plenty of staring contest with the Ents whenever he tried to get his way and had lost enough to know how ineffective they were.

The elf, Elrond, stayed where he was and rested a hand on Frodo's headboard. "I sensed the magic within you as soon as you were brought in. It had been increasing by leaps and bounds as it replenished itself, until it suddenly became stable a little while ago; I assume that is when you awakened."

Well, so much for hiding my magic. So how do I explain it in a believable manner... Ah, yes; avoidance of the problem and fleeing is obviously the only solution.

Harry turned to look at the door, glanced back at the elf, sent another look at the unguarded door, indulged in a quick check under the sheets to assure everything was properly covered and then innocently glanced once more at the elf.

The corners of Elrond's mouth slid upwards slightly in an amused smile as he tilted his head back a bit. "You are not a prisoner here, Istari, but a guest. You have nothing to fear from me and are free to leave and explore any time you wish."

"Indeed? Yet, I have a feeling that your sentiment isn't widely shared. Or, do you usually keep your patients on opposite sides of the room and feel the need to protect one from the other?"

The slight smile dropped from the elf's face and his arm fell back down to his side. Harry couldn't help but take the elder's refusal to leave Frodo's side as a sign of distrust. For some reason, the elves seemed to share a feeling of disgust and even slight fear of him, according to what he had gathered from Arwen and the healers' reactions. Although it wasn't anything he hadn't received from the fickle Wizarding public in his old world, it was hard to face the fact that he couldn't escape prejudice even where no one knew him, especially after the fairly easy acceptance he had gained from the Ents.

"You have a feeling about you that doesn't fit with your youthful appearance. As we elves are a more spiritual race than others, many have also sensed the odd magic that surrounds you and have taken it as something I believe it is not. These are dark times; nevertheless, I will do my best to dispel the false assumptions made about you. It will be your responsibility, however, to replace them with the truth of your character."

How did this turn into such a deep conversation and with a stranger, no less? Merlin, I feel like I am speaking with Dumbledore when he was on one of his wizened lemon drop sugar highs.

Harry decided to trust the elf for now and slowly got out of the cot. The elves had taken the liberty to disrobe him of his soaked cloak and garments (his pants were still on, thankfully) and had dressed him in a soft white gown; the Elder Wand was placed on the white table beside his cot. The entire room, Harry finally noticed, was a glaring shade of pure white and reminded him far too much of the muggle hospital he had needed to visit yearly for mandatory checkups during his time with the Dursleys.

Without another look at Elrond, Harry grabbed his wand, transfigured the elven clothing into black pants and a simple brown V-neck. The Invisibility Cloak came to him on its own, settling around his shoulders once he was fully dressed, and his ring warmed on his finger, as if to remind Harry that it had never abandoned him. Harry crossed the room, but paused at the door. He glanced over at Frodo; the hobbit wasn't in as bad a shape as when the wizard had last seen him, but he was still far too pale and was taking shallow breathes.

He sent one final glance at Elrond. "I don't plan on going anywhere until I am able to speak to Frodo once more, possibly for a farewell. I shall do my best to keep out of the way and not involve myself in your affairs; I wouldn't want to frighten anyone."

"Of course," the elf conceded. Just as Harry slipped through the door, Elrond called out "food is served at an hour before sun down and the fast is broken at sunrise."

The hallway outside of the healing room had an exceedingly tall ceiling and white marble columns lined the right side rather than a wall, revealing a gorgeous view of mountains and waterfalls. Harry walked along the stone path and continued down flights of stairs, ignoring the elves who grew silent watched him as he passed. Odd magical aura-type feeling or not, this staring is just impolite and unnecessary.

Deciding to cut away from the path and the judgmental elves, Harry passed through the greenery and followed the rustle of the bushes and the bending of the flowers, trusting nature to lead him somewhere pleasant. He eventually arrived at a secluded alcove, hidden by tall hedges that parted for Harry to enter. A small, still pond rested in the middle of the clearing and an old stone bench sat in front of its edge with Manny sun-bathing on the smooth surface.

Harry snorted and walked over to sit next his friend. Enjoying yourself, I see.

Ahhh, yesss. There just aren't many rocks like these usually found out in the wild; this place is paradise.

That isn't a rock, but a purposely made seat, and this isn't the wild, but a fully civilized city. Harry replied dubiously. His snake just hissed out in contentment and rolled over, ignoring the logic that was infringing upon his peace.

Setting his elbows on his knees, Harry hunched over and peered at his reflection in the water, trying to see what had caused the elves such unease in his presence. His eyes were a bit eerie in their glow, so much like the Killing Curse's flash of light, but the rest of his face wasn't anything too odd. The lack of a constant diet that resulted from Harry consistently forgetting to eat led his pale face to mostly be comprised of sharp angles and planes. The wizard recalled what Arwen had said about him, about being able to feel death on him.

Harry glared down at the Resurrection Stone. "This is all your fault, isn't it? The rest of the Hallows are in on it as well I'd bet. No wonder no one has ever been the Master of Death before; you guys are a real pain." The stone set in the ring seemed to shine for a moment in pride at the recognition.

Flopping down on the bench, Harry looked up at the falling sun and sighed. It really was beautiful here; the pink and blue of the fading sky sharply contrasted with the dark contour of the mountains, creating a lovely, picturesque scene. Closing his eyes, Harry allowed himself to be lulled to sleep by the hissing breathes of his familiar in the light of the rising moon.

~ Two Days Later ~

Harry slowly opened the door and reentered the white room in which he had fled from just a few days ago. After hearing that Frodo had finally woken up and was ready to receive visitors, Harry thought it would be best to make an appearance.

He had spent some time hanging around in the trees and pulling some minor pranks on the uptight elves, reasserting himself in his Marauder heritage. The frog in a tuxedo singing forlornly to a recently widowed fly over the salad plate during lunch last night had been an exceptionally hilarious endeavor, in his opinion, and was most definitely worth the volley of arrows he had to dodge afterwards. Harry had primarily taken to camping out in his peaceful alcove, though, in order to avoid the parties of men and dwarves who were flooding into Rivendell. The entire city was filling more and more with different races and Harry really couldn't decide if he should stay and try to help, or cut his losses and run for the hills before he got too invested. He had only joined the group after leaving Bree a couple of days prior, yet he had already been in more danger then he has since arriving in Middle Earth. Although, Harry did have to admit that he had also felt the most excitement and thrill in just the first day than he had since the war.

Harry also wasn't sure what more help he could be. He had taken a look at the vial of Rodolph's memories in the pensive he had packed after finding it hidden in one of the hut's many rooms, but they didn't hold any helpful information that he could decipher. It had mainly contained the history he had already learned from Strider and a lot of half-formed thoughts.

His choice of involvement was made for him, however, when he entered the healing room only to be bombarded by a handful of joyful hobbits.

Pippin and Merry danced circles around the wizard, singing loudly "Our hero has returned, our hero had returned! Bring forth the sparkling fire sticks and the celebratory wine. Ehhh, that is, you are old enough to drink, right?"

Sam was far more conservative in his welcome, but still gifted Harry with a bright smile and an offered slice of pie. The wizard suspected that he may have felt a bit guilty about questioning him after he had saved their lives, but Harry held no ill will and accepted the peace offering as he took a seat by Frodo's bedside.

The dark-haired hobbit looked much healthier, his skin glowing with life due to the dedicated care of the elves. He looked somewhat disgruntled at being confined to the bed, but never the less beamed at Harry as he sat down.

"Good Evening, Mr. Harry. Sam, Merry and Pippin have been singing your praises and recounting your bravery in the battle against the Ringwraiths." Frodo's smile flattered at the memory and put his hand to his chest, where the Ring lay on a golden chain over his heart. "You have my thanks for your assistance; for without it I fear I would longer be here."

With a nod, Harry accepted the hobbit's thanks. "Of course, Mr. Frodo Baggins from Underhill, but I must admit the pleasure was mostly mine; those dirty laundry bags were a great help in getting some exercise. I am afraid spending so much time on Luna hasn't helped my waistline at all. And, please, just call me Harry." The hobbits humored the wizard with light smiles at his gentle teasing, likely relived that he wasn't yelling at them for their error. As far as Harry was concerned, it was better for the sheltered hobbits to learn what constituted as fatal mistakes now rather than when they were out on their own.

"Where have you been?" Pippin asked excitedly. "The Master Elf said that you woke up days ago, but we haven't seen you at meals. Are you avoiding us? Have you met Gandalf yet? Did you know that they only have three meals here? Apparently they have never heard of second breakfast, or elevenses, and afternoon tea is completely disregarded and-"

"Oh, Pippin, please do stop going on. I don't believe Mr. Harry wants to hear your complaints about your appetite, which are truly ridiculous, by the way. I mean honestly, there is a reason they always have fruits set out; we are obviously supposed to eat them as a substitute for the other meals." Sam scolded his friend as Merry silently mimicked his hand movements and speech behind him, causing Pippin to slap his hand over his mouth to hold in the laughter, which brought on another round of rebuke.

Harry stared at them quizzically; he was pretty sure the fruit was set out as an offering to some sort of deity, based on the ceremonies he had seen taking place around the bowl each morning, but felt that his input wouldn't be appreciated presently.

Frodo and Harry continued watching the show the three hobbits were unintentionally putting on, until the door opened and Strider, Arwen, an old man and Elrond entered the room.

The mobile hobbits immediately made to assault the Ranger and the old man as they had done to Harry, but aborted their mission once they saw the company that was with them. Strider sighed a bit but took a few steps forward, away from his companions, giving the hobbits permission to greet him in their own special way.

Harry sent a cautious look at Arwen, who, after making eye contact with her father, replied with a strained smile. Her right eye even twitched a little. Drat, I am probably going to have to deal with that soon. Harry dreaded the oncoming conversation he knew he would need to have with the elf to clear the waters. Unfortunately, his awkward teenage romance with Ginny and the brief relationships he had during the war only minorly helped his complete lack of finesse with the fairer sex, and the time he had spent with Luna actually made him regress a bit, since he had gotten use to only needing to deal with one person. However, since he planned on staying for the time being and Strider seemed to hold her opinion in high regard, it wouldn't be wise for Harry to allow Arwen's opinion of him to continue on being so negative without her actually knowing him at all.

Elrond walked farther into the room and addressed the occupants. "Now that you have awoken, young Frodo, I hope you will be well enough to join us. A council is being called pertaining to the possession you carry and Gandalf has requested you attend." He turned to look appealingly at Harry. "Your presence would also be appreciated, if you would be willing."

Harry was biting his lip as he studied the gray man holding a staff similar to Rodolph's in his hand, still standing in the door frame. So this was the great wizard Gandalf the hobbits had gone on about, as well as the man who had sent Frodo off with the Ring and only dispatched a single man to protect the hobbits. He reminded Harry too much of Dumbledore when the old wizard took on the advantageous role of puppet master. While the man had been a dear mentor and friend to Harry, he had to admit that his manipulations, while good-intentioned, often backfired since no one else was in on the whole plan and many got fed up with his plots. He would need to keep a careful eye on the older wizard to ensure he wouldn't inadvertently endanger the hobbits.

As these thoughts were running threw his mind, Harry wasn't paying much attention to the conversation and found himself absentmindedly nodding along with Frodo. He abruptly stopped and looked up, alarmed at what he could have just agreed to. Based on the self-satisfied smirk on Elrond's face and the disgruntled one Arwen had, Harry had a bad feeling that he would regret his inattention.

This was how Harry found himself shuffling uncomfortably on a stone slab trying to pass off as a seat that he shared with Frodo a few hours later, silently seething at his own foolishness. The very people he had spent the last few days succeeding in avoiding were filing into the open room, taking seats in the circle that surrounded a stone pedestal.

Harry could feel the weight of several eyes on him, sizing him up and wondering who he was and what made him good enough to be there. Curling up in on himself, Harry pulled his knees to his chest and threw his arms around his head, peaking in between them to see. That's right, nothing to see here you nosy parasites. Eventually all of the attendees arrived and Elrond rose from his seat and indicated for Frodo to place the Ring on the center column before addressing the crowd.

"We have come here to make a choice; one that will likely decide the fate of our realm for many centuries to come. The ring must be destroyed in the land of Mordor within the fires of Mount Doom in which it was created; one of you must bring it forth. The path we choose here will determine if this land and its people will fall into an eternal darkness or not."

What followed could only be described, in the politest of terms, as an utter shit storm. Men, dwarves and elves alike began yelling out ideas and claiming to be the best candidate to take the ring. A voice rose, stating "One does not simply walk into Mordor*", before it was drowned out again. The group of dwarves got into a particularly nasty argument with a few elven lords, the bad blood between to two races running hot, which led to a deafening shouting match.

Suddenly, a fully-bearded dwarf yelled out "what are we waiting for" and ran at the Ring, bringing down his mighty axe in an attempt to promptly destroy the artifact.

Harry just rolled his eyes as the dwarf was thrown back by a burst of power from the Ring, his axe shattering from the force. Frodo jerked violently beside him, probably startled by the noise, and Harry set a comforting hand on his shoulder. What an idiot; Elrond just said that the only way to terminate the Ring was via scary boiling volcano. Oh, wait a second; I think I know that idiot…

"Gimli? Do you really think that was the smartest thing you could have done?" Harry uncurled from his position slightly as he questioned the dwarf, curious to see if it was really his old acquaintance.

The dwarf's head shot up in surprise and he quickly jumped up from the ground. "Forest Spirit? Is that you? You're the one everyone had been talking about, sneaking around this city of polished rocks like a thief! Why did you not tell me you were here, we could have grabbed a pint or-"

"Enough!" A golden haired man shot from his seat. "This isn't the time for pleasantries! We are here to decide the fate of the Ring; I say we use it as the weapon it is. The Ring isn't a curse, but instead a gift to the foes of Mordor. Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe! Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him!*" The man, Boromir, reached out for the Ring, his hand hovering over gold band.

Gandalf stepped forward from his place standing beside Frodo and began to chant in a heavy voice. The Resurrection Stone flashed searing hot on Harry's hand and a breeze blew by his ear, whispering the translation for the words.

"One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,

One Ring to bring them all and in the Darkness bind them.*"

A chill worked its way up Harry's spine and the gathering grew silent, the members horrified at hearing such speech within the sacred elven walls. Boromir's hand fell away to his side as he took a few steps back and fell into his seat. Elrond sent a look full of warning and reprimand at the gray wizard, but Gandalf continued to look into each person's eyes to ensure his message was received, stating "I do not ask for your pardon, Master Elrond, for the black speech of Mordor might yet be heard in every corner of the Earth.*"

Strider finally looked up from the seat he had taken on the other side of Harry, where he had been staring at the ground, contemplating the proceedings of the council. "The Ring cannot be used by just anyone; it only serves the dark master which created it. Trying to bend it to your will won't work as your mind will be poisoned by its influence, twisted and warped into madness until you are little more than the creature Gollum."

Boromir rose once more, gaining confidence as righteous rage ran through him. "And what would a shadowed ranger such as yourself know of these matters?"

A blond elf, the one who Gimli had been arguing one-on-one with earlier, rose to defend Strider. "This is no mere ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn and heir to the throne of Gondor. You owe him your allegiance.*"

The man stiffened and turned to Strider, eyeing him wearily. "Aragorn? This…. is Isildur's heir?" His mouth turned down in a sneer. "Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king.*" With that proclamation, Boromir turned around and sat back down in dismissal.

Harry heard Strider trying to calm the elf Legolas down, but only distantly. He kept hearing the titles the elf had called Strider over and over in his head. Aragorn….. Son of Arathorn… heir to the throne of Gondor…..Strider is Aragorn, the future King of Gondor. Then according to Death's Prophecy, he needs my help to…. Oh, fuck.


*End Author's Note: Wow, I sure butchered a lot of quotes from the movie and books, didn't I? Sorry to any hard-core fans who had a stoke while reading this. The stared lines are direct quotes or, aka, even more not mine than the rest of it.

Warning: The next chapter is an interlude. I have decided to incorporate them into the story since they will affect the main plot; for example, the first will explain how Harry already knows Gimli.