Well it's out. Surprise! lol

Yes I am alive. I've had a few incidents in the last few months which required my attention and prevented me from posting this. This chapter is exceedingly long so I think it more than makes up for the time gap :P.

Some of you might have noticed that the summary for this story has changed to the same as the original. That is because I have never been great at writing summaries and to be honest was never happy with the one I had for this book.

Anyways. Thanks to FelineWolf, Sharnorasian Empire and TheWritingGirl23 for their reviews. I say this every time but that acknowledgement really means a lot to me. I am far from perfect as a writer but hearing that people appreciate that I try encourages me to keep trying.

Thanks also to everyone who added me to their alerts list and my story to story alerts. I noticed a few newcomers this time round and I have to say that it still surprises me that people can be bothered to read right through both.

I think I've finally managed to get my head around this book which means that I can now definitively complete it and go back to edit and fix it up a bit. I also think I've got the plot for the third coming along nicely. I began writing this fic with some idea of the ending in mind but I hadn't planned how I was going to get there. I should probably plan better if I ever write any more fics in future. That has been the biggest lesson from this experience.

Anyways enjoy!

:)

-Rin


Sons of the Summons Book 2 - Entulil

Chess and Chest Pains.

The journey to Edoras was conducted with less haste then the journey from it. On the second night they passed through a large village, and rented a room in the tavern and inn for the night. Noriel disappeared into the tavern to reserve their rooms as the others took care of the horses in the small stable behind. Luinglîn did so with a thunderous expression fixed to his features where the others dismounted with much savoured relief.

"Lighten up mate" Rostaen commented "We'd know if Calenur was going mental, he's probably making his jailors wish they'd never been born by now." The comment failed to draw a smile from the stoic Slytherin while the elf, dwarf and man turned to look at the two curiously.

"What do you mean?" Aragorn asked with a hint of concern. Rostaen grinned and jumped off of Cannon's back happily when they reached the stables.

Rostaen handed his reigns over to the stable master with a bounce in his step, it was a relief to be out of the saddle after such a long day. "It isn't a good idea to keep Calenur locked up or in one place for any amount of time with nothing to do. He tends to get bored."

"And a bored Calenur, is a dangerous Calenur." The twins butted in with identical maniacal grins. "Our guess is that Rohan will only be too happy to see the back of him when this is over." Aragorn chose to ignore that in favour of praying that the twins were wrong. If Calenur caused too much trouble it could be hard to bail him out in the end.

"How exactly would you know if Calenur was 'going mental' as the young laddie said and come to think of it, why would he ?" Gimli asked curiosity and confusion clear on his features. Gandalf knew exactly why but he knew that the Nahámionr would be uncomfortable talking about it at best. His suspicions proved true as he sensed the other wizards draw into themselves and cover their lapse with guarded expressions.

"The first question we will answer. For the answer to the second you would need to ask Calenur yourselves." Luinglîn stated with finality before continuing on to explain. "Calenur's magic potential is the greatest out of all of us, we have too many unique abilities and our energy is drawn mostly into them, reducing the amount of raw magic that we have access to. Calenur on the other hand settled for the skills he already had and new ones which he could master, hence his use of marbles. It took him many years to master the art of infusing magic with glass and to do it he has to craft the marbles himself. The result is that the power stored within Calenur's body and consciousness, some of it sleeping, some of it active, is so great that he has become venerable to extreme emotional stress. Normally this doesn't bother him but when he has need of it he will use it. The result of a loss of control would be visible from corner to corner in middle earth and it would consume and destroy everything within an estimated 200 to maybe 300 leagues of his location." The colour leached out of Aragorn's face and the sneer on Luinglîn's deepened.

"It has never happened before then?" Legolas asked and was relieved when the silver haired wizard shook his head, his expression relaxing somewhat.

"No but he came close once. One night about 250 years ago when the past visited him in the midst of the night. Rostaen and I were able to contain it but the effort left us exhausted and the power he released then was barely a tenth of what he could have." Luinglîn answered with a hit of amusement lacing his tone that the others could not understand. How in the world could the man find it funny? Rostaen also snorted and turned to his friend with intent.

"Ethycs helped, without it you would have collapsed." The red-head teased while Luinglîn turned the same colour as Rostaen's hair.

"At least I have a useful weapon!" He exclaimed indignantly causing the others to look at him curiously as they entered the inn.

"Fed by your own strength and magic, along with your abilities as a seer. As a result your magical potential has somewhat decreased in previous years as I warned you it would before you came here." Amariel spoke up while studying her nails intently. Luinglîn scowled darkly.

" No-one likes a know-it-all. I could still kick your asses to Hogwarts and back after losing an arm!" He spat causing the others to laugh.

"Luinglîn. To wield that scythe of yours you need both of your arms and a considerable amount of magic. You'd be dead before we reached the end of the street!" Amariel laughed and the others, excluding Luinglîn, joined her. the Slytherin simply huffed silently not wanting to admit that his frosty disposition had been cheered somewhat by his companion's banter.


Later, when the grey of the day had finally faded to pitch black Luinglîn sat in the corner of tavern sipping on a pint of mead. It was a luxury he rarely allowed himself but now he felt that he needed it's numbing effect in order to calm his frazzled nerves. His thoughts drifted between one thing and another but two topics remained paramount in his mind.

Number one was Calenur and his continued imprisonment and number two was the appearance of their newest companions. So absorbed in his thoughts was his that he completely failed to detect Rostaen's approach. The red-head took a seat across from the silver snake and stared at him intently for a moment before sighing and flicking his wand at the table which sat between them. In doing so Rostaen effectively claimed Luinglîn's second pair of underwear in a week.

"What the hell are you doing?" The pissed off wizard hissed at his companion through clenched teeth. Rostaen was non-pulsed by this display and simply sent the snake a silly smile in reply.

"Relax mate. I don't bite." He chided humorously while Luinglîn continued to growl casting his glance down at the table. Wordlessly he flicked his wand and chess pieces appeared in their appropriate spaces on the board. It was a silent admission from Luinglîn that Rostaen's presence at the table was not unwelcome to him.

"So." Rostaen began moving one pawn forward to begin the game. Luinglîn looked up after moving his own piece to see the red head with a serious frown etched on his face. "What's really eating you?" He asked with genuine concern. Luinglîn studied him with intense scrutiny for a moment before coming to the conclusion that if he was going to share his thoughts and worries with anyone besides Calenur from their mismatched group, Rostaen was the best choice. He might not have been the green eyed captain Luinglîn had come to respect but Rostaen was also one other thing to him which Calenur was as well, his friend. The blue eyed wizard sighed and sat back in his seat, the chess board for the moment forgotten.

"Are you sure you want to know?" He asked one eyebrow raised in a milder version of the sneer Rostaen had once so hated. Rostaen chose to ignore that detail and simply regard the other man seriously. It was abundantly clear to them both that Rostaen was not the one with words which needed said.

"Very well then." The snake relented moving one of his pieces on the chess board then looking up at his unlikely friend. "Through the euphoria that has no doubt clouded your mind since Amariel's return did you ever stop to think what the arrival of so many in so short a time could possibly mean? That of Torion, Arveldir and Baimeldir in particular." Rostaen chose to ignore the veiled insult held within the snake's question and simply focused on the fundamentals of what he had been asked. A couple of moments of silence passed between the two companions. A time period in which they continued to play the game on the board in front of them.

"Seeing as the twins, Torion and my sister had not yet arrived in Valinor when we left for middle earth to join Calenur, you think that it means that the Mortuus Signum is beginning to unravel." The red-haired man guessed veiling his own concern between an uncharacteristic expression of neutrality.

"So it has occurred to you then." Luinglîn noted with approval reaching over to make another move.

"Yes but I thought it wise to keep such thoughts to myself given the current situation. Amariel said something of a similar fear when we emerged from Fangorn. She also told me that only those who first emerged from the seal, you, me, Amariel, Snape, Sirius and Calenur's parents really know what's going on. Calenur does not know and for good reason."

"Yes, if ever his true self, the one who absorbed the evil of the dark lord into himself during the process of Mortuus Signum, was to awaken not even Mandos himself could predict the effect it would have. That is what concerns me." Luinglîn said cursing as Rostaen finally managed to corner his King and claim victory.

"That is not all Luinglîn, don't lie to me. You're concerned that my sister's previous connection with both Harry and Tom Mass Murderer Riddle will have some bearing on this." Luinglîn did not acknowledge this comment at first but instead stared at the chess board forlornly. He had lost again.

" Put it this way. If I could order your sister and wife off to Emyn Arnen and our settlement there, I quite happily would brother. Your sister spent too long looking for Mr Right and barely got away from Mr Not-right-in-the-head. She is a liability which we do not need at this time." He said rather plainly. Rostaen felt a hint of defiance rise in him but he squashed it before it could become any more than annoyance.

"She will not let us down. Not this time. She caused the fall of the light side in the war through her death but perhaps but it was Calenur's reaction to it which was most damaging. Do not forget that." Rostaen said draining the rest of his mead and walking off to find his wife's bed.

"That is certainly another point about which I worry my brother." Luinglîn muttered into the dark before draining his own drink and skulking off to find his own room.

That night Luinglîn dreamed once again, in his mind's eye he saw a great many things, the least significant ones he knew would not be remembered when he woke. Within his head he was a bird flying over planes of grass and fields of everlasting earth. Through forests and tall trees that scraped the sky with their branches, over lakes and hills he travelled in the blink of an eye. Suddenly before him the sky began to grow dark and the sun faded from sight.

Still he flew onwards, over the mountains and through a path of razor sharp rock. Mist settled on the land and for a while he could see nothing but white, when his vision cleared again he saw the black land before him and a swamp that stretched as far as the eye could see. Three dots travelled on the land below him, one hunched over and the other two hooded and cloaked. For miles he followed them, until at last they reached the foothills of the land from which the shadow came and the place in which it was darkest. He watched them struggle as they climbed the shallowest hills to finally look down upon the malevolent immensity of the black gate of Mordor.


Weak, he was becoming weak. Calenur sighed angrily to himself as he pushed himself up from the pile of hay that served him as a mattress. He groaned at the pain in his side. The day before Wormtongue's tactics had turned nasty. Calenur knew that it had been only a matter of time before he would be questioned for information, information that he had no intention of divulging. He laughed bitterly as he found the cracked rib that was the cause of his discomfort and thanked Mandos, not for the first time, that his pain reception had been dulled when he had transformed from Harry to Calenur.

When he had gotten himself into a sitting position Calenur turned his attention to the window and the dark sky outside. It had been just short of a week ago that he had been arrested and he summarised that it must have taken Grima much of that time to contact his master. A second stab of pain from his broken rib drew a curse from his mouth and he grumbled to himself irritated with his own weakness.

The torture would only become worse. Despite what he said, Calenur knew Saruman's power and the extent of the man's knowledge. With Wormtongue acting as his puppet he knew that he had something to fear from the corrupt Maia but that didn't mean he had to dwell on that fear. His mind quickly switched back to his current situation and the state of his kin. He had felt the two new presences arrive in the land as he was always conscious of the state and whereabouts of his companions. His heart flew at feeling the calming presence of Ginny close at hand. She was the only one who could really soothe him and that had not changed. Their arrival was a development that Saruman would not count on. The corrupt Maia was still blissfully unaware that there were any more than three Nahámionr and until that week he had also been unaware that Calenur, Luinglîn and Rostaen had so much as moved from their watch tower in Emyn Arnen.

The heavy wooden door at the end of the corridor swung open with a groan of protest. Calenur now lay on his back studying the large expanse of slate that covered the roof above the bare rafters and frowned in distaste. An escape would have been easy had the roof been thatched but it appeared that his jailor's were smarter than he had been led to believe. He would not think of the presence outside the door, he would not think of what it meant for him. He had faced worse although that thought did not stop his hand from straying towards his wand. As the lock that imprisoned him opened and the door of his cage swung open he refused to focus on anything save for the glowing presence of his friends in his consciousness and the growing feeling as they drew closer to him. He would bear any burden placed upon him as long as he could feel them. He would do it for them because he lived for them. As he was dragged across the stone floor and out of the cell by two sets of arms, that is what he told himself.


"I hate you." Luinglîn told Rostaen with no doubt in his voice, said red-head grinned like a mad man while happily removing Luinglîn's queen from the chess board they were once again hunched over. Luinglîn in defeated contemplation and Rostaen with a confident and smug look to him. Legolas and Gimli looked on in bafflement while Torion sat in a corner sharpening a strange knife he called a scalpel.

"Don't worry, this happens at least once a week." Torion muttered not looking up from his work, one wrong move and that knife could cut his finger off. Aragorn looked over at him.

"What happens?" He asked. Torion motioned towards his friends with a head gesture and held his knife up for examination.

"Luinglîn challenges Rostaen to a chess match and loses miserably." Torion replied before returning to his work with a displeased smile. Legolas looked over at the twins who were once again bent lowly over a huge sheet of parchment, the likes of which he had never seen before. Slowly and steadily they had painstakingly drawn a map of such extravagance and detail that even the most brilliant of elvish craft's men would have eyed it with envy. They had been working on it since they left Fangorn and before that if it's state of completion was anything to go by, the Nahámionr seemed to see nothing odd about their behaviour and so Legolas paid it no mind and instead turned his attention to Aragorn and Gandalf who stood a little ways away from him.

"The veiling shadow that glowers in the east takes shape. Sauron will suffer no rival. From the summit of Barad-dûr, his eye watches ceaselessly. But he is not so mighty yet that he is above fear. Doubt ever gnaws at him. The rumour has reached him. The heir of Númenor still lives." Gandalf whispered quietly, the silence between them stretched for a moment. Luinglîn's strangled curse was clearly heard as he lost yet another chess game to Rostaen.

"Sauron fears you, Aragorn. He fears what you may become. And so he'll strike hard and fast at the world of men. He will use his puppet, Saruman, to destroy Rohan. War is coming. Rohan must defend itself, and therein lies our first challenge for Rohan is weak and ready to fall. The King's mind is enslaved," He shook his head slightly and anger clouded his eyes as Amariel stepped up to join them.

"It's an old device of Saruman's. His hold over King Théoden is now very strong, if even Calenur could not break it. Sauron and Saruman are tightening the noose. But for all their cunning we have one advantage. "Aragorn looked at Gandalf. "The ring remains hidden. And that we should seek to destroy it has not yet entered their darkest dreams. And so the weapon of the enemy is moving towards Mordor in the hands of a Hobbit. Each day brings it closer to the fire's of Mount Doom. We must trust now in Frodo. Everything depends upon speed and the secrecy of his quest." Aragorn gained a troubled look and cast his gaze out across the plane. Amariel saw that the part of the conversation she had been interested in was over and slipped away as quietly as she came. She would speak to the old wizard later when everyone else was asleep. For now she would help Noriel prepare the meal for the party.

"Do not regret your decision to leave him. Frodo must finish this task alone." Gandalf reassured the ranger as he saw the female Nahámion pull away.

"He is not alone." Aragorn cut in. "Sam went with him." Gandalf looked pleased at that.

"Did he? Did he indeed? Good. Yes, very good." A disturbance from behind quickly caught their attention as all at once, the seven Nahámionr with them shot up from their seats and looked in the same direction with wild and frightened eyes. The clatter of the chess board and it's pieces barely penetrated the trance they were fixed in and all seven of them clutched their hearts as if in pain.

"What is it?" Aragorn hissed as he came to stand beside Luinglîn. The silver haired man barely acknowledged him, his pupils had become wide and rounded occasionally flashing like an animal's as they often did in the dark. When what appeared to be shock wore off his face became first sad, then worried and finally angry.

"This is what happens when one of us dies or undergoes extreme torture. The most venerable spot we have is our heart and they are linked in a way that I lack the words to explain. It is not physical pain, but it is something which is almost worse." Gandalf hurried over to the blond Slytherin and stared into his eyes hotly.

"Who?" He asked urgently. Luinglîn seemed to choke for a moment before another wave of pain hit him, he gasped along with the others and collapsed to the floor at once.

"Calenur." He choked out pulling a cry from his fellowship companions, he continued quickly before the wrong conclusions could be drawn. "He is being tortured for information about the ring. Do not trouble yourselves, he will say nothing but we must return to Edoras quickly before Saruman decides to put him beyond use."


When Calenur came round his first instinct was to sit up.

Bad fricking Idea.

His body immediately let out a shout of pain and nailed him to the hard stone floor once again. The pain so intense that it caused him to black out. When he next woke, he smartly remembered what not to do and lay in the centre of the cell silently contemplating the severity of his situation.

Beams of light danced teasingly on the roof above his head and he realised that he felt cold and exposed in the morning light. It took him a further five minutes to realise that the exposed feeling stemmed from the fact that he was naked. His clothes had become shredded the previous two nights when the wounds which covered his body, now nothing more than scars, had been inflicted. He silently thanked his lucky stars that he had the foresight to cast a concealment charm on his wand and holster. He could not bear to part with it.

He watched the light dance above him and remembered mornings in which he had done the same back in his teenage years. In Gryffindor tower he had always taken a bed beside the window, the sky calmed him and reminded him of his love for flying. He still carried his firebolt even now, although it was barely ever used since he had acquired Godric. Brooms had once been the chief transportation of himself and his companions. He let out a wistful sigh and immediately regretted it. The pain from his broken rib with the addition of two more the night before was enough to paralyse him. To make matters worse, an insistent buzzing in the back of his head alerted him to the fact that Luinglîn wanted a word and was growing impatient. With a sigh he lowered his mental barrier only enough to let Luinglîn slip through.

"Calenur! Are you ok?" He asked with obvious relief. The green eyed man frowned. He had tried to shield them from the events of the previous night but he had obviously not been successful. He chose to ignore the question and instead pushed thoughts of everything and nothing to the surface of his consciousness. He felt his friend recoil slightly and then answered from the deep darkness that was steadily growing within him.

"Who am I Luinglîn?" He asked with a whisper of strength in his voice. It was obvious from his emotional reaction to the question that Luinglîn did not know how to answer so Calenur elaborated slightly. "Am I Calenur, or am I Harry?"

"Only you can answer that." Luinglîn answered with caution. "I never knew Harry so to me you are Calenur, and Calenur is my friend. Harry was my enemy."

"It was not until I became Calenur that I really understood anything." Calenur mused more to himself while letting random thoughts swim in his mind like butterflies.

"I think Harry understood but was unwilling to accept." Luinglîn told him. "What is this about Calenur?"

"Nothing" he spoke aloud and cloaked his emotions. Luinglîn would not be fooled. "I can feel him in me again, a small yet threatening presence. He has awoken and I am unsure how it should be dealt with."

"Indecisiveness could be fatal here." Luinglîn replied calm now that he was assured of Calenur's survival.

"I know." Calenur answered before he shut Luinglîn out and faded into darkness once again.


"He is alive." Luinglîn told the others breaking the silence as they raced across the planes of Rohan. He said nothing of the awakening, that was irrelevant to the fellowship and he felt that Nahámionr business was better kept within the pack. This piece of information in particular.

Rostaen glanced at him but said nothing, Luinglîn had that look again. The one that characteristically appeared on his face when someone mentioned the past. It was not an easy topic for him to discuss with any true degree of normality. He had lost far more than most that night, he lost both his life and everything he ever loved because he had sided with his enemy.

Frowning and knowing that Calenur was bound to be in a sorry state Rostaen let a shrill whistle fall from his lips. A whistle that was answered with a crack of appearation a moment later.

"Ronald Weasley sir!" The house elf shouted happily, standing with perfect balance on Cannon's chestnut head while the horse ran at break neck speed. The fellowship stared at the creature in disgusted wonderment and Rostaen had the strong urge to slap them. Luinglîn shot his friend a glare but held his water in silent disapproval.

"Hello Dobby." Rostaen smiled at the creature who looked at him curiously.

"It is not often that Ronald Weasley calls upon Dobby. Where is Harry Potter sir?" The elf asked looking around becoming panicked when he realised that Calenur was nowhere to be found. The frown that marred the face of Harry's most loved friend alarmed the house elf even more as he tried to keep himself from flying into hysterics.

"Calenur has run into a spot of trouble and I want you to find him. Don't break him out but try to heal any wounds he has. I'm not sure if he'll be conscious or not." Rostaen told the elf seriously. A serious look immediately took hold in the creature's eyes.

"Dobby is happy to serve Harry Potter sir, Dobby will help if he can." The creature replied in earnest, the loyalty brought a smile to Rostaen's face.

"Thank you Dobby." He replied. Dobby gave one last bow before he disappearated away to the dungeon where Calenur was held.

"What was that?" Gimli asked loudly in a distrustful bluster. All seven of the Nahámionr mysteriously smiled in a very elvish fashion and Gimli had to remind himself that Legolas was an only elfling to avoid thinking of Luinglîn as his twin.

"That was a house elf." Luinglîn answered. The chilling voice was a direct contrast to Legolas' warm one and severed their resemblance in Gimli's mind although both voices were equally as smooth.

"That was no elf!" Legolas exclaimed in outrage. Rostaen and Noriel turned to give him a very uncharacteristic glare.

"We said 'house' elf, not elf and don't insult him. That little creature has more back bone in his little finger then you have in your entire body!" Noriel didn't shout but she might as well have.

"And he is hopelessly devoted to Calenur." Amariel added in a much kinder tone.

"Does that surprise you?" Luinglîn asked fondly. "Calenur freed him from the cruelty of my father. If that isn't enough to ensure everlasting devotion then I don't know what is!"

"I'll explain later" Rostaen said to Gandalf. The wizard nodded as the seven Nahámionr returned to their previous concerned silence. A silence which both unnerved their company and somewhat reassured them that for the moment Calenur was alright.


Dobby appearated just outside Edoras where he was sure no-one would hear the noise and used his limited magic to make himself look more human.. He almost cried as he pulled the many socks that covered his being off and stashed them in his pockets but humans did not wear socks in that way.

After a moment's thought he decided that it would be better if no-one saw him at all and smilingly pulled his socks back on before disillusioning himself silently. He crept into the city through the front gate and instantly took a disliking to the place. Everything was too black and dreary and the atmosphere reminded him of the house of his former master. With a huff of disapproval he set about looking for the prisons where Calenur was held, avoiding people despite the fact he was invisible.

He eventually found the place and scowled outright at the dirt it contained. He fought the urge to clean as he crept along towards the door only to find two large guards barring his way. This did not hinder him however as he simply put them to sleep and slipped in through the door. Whatever punishment they suffered for sleeping on the job was justified in Dobby's eyes. They had imprisoned his friend, Harry Potter, and that was unforgivable.

"Harry Potter sir?" Dobby called quietly into the gloom. He heard a groan from a cell near the back and quickly made a dash towards it. The prison was empty save for one prisoner who was thankfully the one that Dobby was looking for.

"Harry Potter!" The elf exclaimed in dismay when he saw the state of the wizard. Dobby checked Calenur over for serious injuries and healed his broken ribs easily although the pain would still be a problem. There was little the house elf could do for Calenur's delirium but that didn't stop the elf from trying to wake him.

"Harry Potter sir! Dobby is here, wake up!" The elf shook his shoulder lightly. The sleeping wizard let out a groan and his eyes flickered open. Dobby removed the concealment spell and looked down at his friend with concern.

"Dobby?" A smile appeared on the Nahámion's face as he looked at the house elf who stood above him. "What have I told you about trying to save my life?" Calenur asked jokingly. The elf did not pick up on the joke.

"Dobby is not to do it sir. But Harry Potter's friend told Dobby to help Harry Potter so Dobby did sir." The house elf answered with wide tennis ball shaped eyes.

"I don't want you to get hurt Dobby, not again for my sake but thank you. Now please go before you're discovered." Calenur pleaded with him. Seeing Calenur getting upset and knowing it would not help his condition, Dobby turned and prepared to disappearate.

"As Harry Potter wishes sir." A loud crack sounded and the elf was gone. Calenur smiled to himself and allowed his eyes to close again. The little elf's magic could only do so much after all, he needed his rest to fully recover.


Translations

Mortuus Signum: latin: It means the dead seal from what I can remember when I researched this. Basically if you can remember alllll the way back to the first chapter of Book 1 this is the seal that Harry used to bind Voldemort and his followers. This seal is sort of important and may come into the story again later. :P

As for the ramblings about the Mortuus Signum, all will be explained in time. I assure you.