A/N: I have had it with this chapter! There have been so many issues in writing this i have simply reached the end. I am posting without my neurotic three editing drafts, so there are typoes and problems with my biggest concern is HP OoC-ness. But as i said i am ready to move on, beside i took a drastic turn from the original draft. Okay so on with the chapter. PLEASe, please, please review. If it come to it i want to come back and tweek this chapter and others again.

Not Just a Story
Almost There

Trees faded to open fields. Wild grasses rose to daunting snow covered mountains. Mild warmth faded to unbearable cold. Days of walking in frozen wind. Strength and energy buried deep beneath fallen snow. But to travel over mountains, one must climb and one must descend. The snow melts away. The blankets hiding lost strength vanish. Cold drifts away.

The trio finally reached the other side of the mountains. They camped in a small cave at the mountain's base. The snow clouds had yet to clear. In the distance a wolf's howl sounded across the sky.

Harry and Ron sat on the cold stone floor eating their evening meal. When the howl reached the cave, Legolas stopped attending to the fire, to gaze over his shoulder. After the call ended, Legolas spoke.

"The wolves are howling; has the moon truly reached its height?" he turned to the teenagers, "If the hour is truly late, perhaps you two should rest."

Harry and Ron had no objections. Having traveled for so long, sleep was a well-welcomed friend.

"Legolas, when is Ettelwen coming back?" asked Ron as he laid out his bedroll.

Legolas looked away from the boys, gazing to the area beyond the door. Seconds passed in which the elf gave no answer.

"I do not know," he said firmly. "She had not said, do you not remember? She left the clearing without a word. She tends to spend much time alone. There is no need for you to worry."

Harry stared at the elf. He noticed Legolas's hesitancy and suspected something in his tone differed from usual, yet Harry could not place his finger on why. Harry watched Legolas walk to the entrance of the cave and sit down, leaning his pale cheek against the stone wall.

"G'night, Legolas," said Ron, before he curled up in his blanket; however, Harry said nothing.

Legolas sat against the wall staring at the clouded sky. He wasn't sure why he lied to Ron, and it greatly troubled him.

What was the truth? She had told him when she would return. He had talked to her that night. The wolf's howl was one of Ettelwen's signals. He knew the moon was still low. He knew she would return to tonight. Why hadn't he said so?

His thoughts were interrupted, when Ettelwen appeared before him. She wore only her leather traveling outfit, which left her stomach, arms, and legs bare. Though her face was set showing no emotion, Legolas could see her body tremble. He knew the feeling of cold was only to be a minor irritation for her, and if it was anything more she would only show it as such. She walked only to the edge of the fire, sitting at the very edge of its warmth.

Legolas walked closer to her. Even in the faint wavering light, Legolas could see the deep cuts on her shoulders and the ones on her lower back below the edge of her top. As though Ettelwen could sense his eyes on her, the cuts began to glow and heal.

"Manke dele lle? (Where have you been?)" asked Legolas as the cuts vanished.

"Mani en' ta?(Does it matter?)" replied Ettelwen with a hard edge that Legolas recognized and loathed to hear.

"Lle pedoe lle entuluva e' atta relea,(You said you would return in two days)" said Legolas firmly, "Lempe waane.(Five have passed.)"

"Ta nae n'uma ant' ten' lee delaya," (There was no need for you to worry.)

Legolas couldn't match her, and didn't even try to respond. He removed his cloak and dropped it upon her shoulders, before he walked over to his own bed roll.

Ettelwen acted as though she didn't even notice, but the fact that she didn't shrug it off comforted him. He sighed as he lay down to sleep, respectfully turning away from her.

The fire shrunk as time past. Ettelwen had not moved. Once the flames fell to glowing cinders, Ettelwen pulled the cloak from her shoulders.

She walked to where Legolas slept and laid the cloak on top of him. She waved her hand above his face. His face shown faintly for a second. When the light faded, he appeared to have fallen into a deeper sleep.

"Drop your pretense, Harry," said Ettelwen loud enough for him to hear, "I know you're awake."

Harry sat up as Ettelwen walked back to the fire and sat down. With another wave of her arm the fire relit despite the lack of fuel.

"How could you tell?" inquired Harry as he sat up.

"One thing many people fail to realize is that in sleep breathing steadies," she spoke plainly as though reading from a text book, "But aside from that you flinched each time the wood cracked and when I first stood, as well."

"I guess you would notice that," murmured Harry.

He started to move aside his blankets, but Ettelwen held out her hand in a gesture to stop him.

"You're not staying awake for much longer. What did Legolas tell you?" she spoke glancing at him for the first time.

"He didn't tell us anything," said Harry after he settled back into his blankets.

"He told you something." She gazed into the fire. "I see your weariness. Something forced you to fight the pull of sleep."

Harry hesitated staring at her unmoving form. Firelight flickered on her pale face and danced on her ebony hair.

"You are not afraid," she mused. "He didn't tell you everything."

"Legolas didn't tell us anything. He only said you were trained to kill. Then he admitted you were raised by evil, but-"

"Are you skeptical of his word?"

"I don't know. You've only ever been kind to Ron and me. You've never seemed evil," uncertainty faded with each word, and renewed with new conviction he spoke, "It doesn't matter who you were, what matters is who you are now."

"Do you truly believe that, Harry?" she said quietly. "Do you believe Deatheaters could redeem themselves?"

Harry was slightly taken aback by the reference to his own world; he could not respond.

"I learned much of your world," she spoke filling his silence, "in the time I was there. Their crimes are nothing compared to mine. They have reasons for their actions."

"Hatred? Entertainment?" Harry said quietly, "Those aren't reasons."

"There is little you understand. Hatred, anger, they are reasons. Not necessarily justifiable reasons, but reasons nonetheless. Besides, you speak of their reasons for torture, not murder. They only kill as an end," she paused as though waiting for a response, but Harry had none.

"I was found Mordor and raised by Morgoth himself. I learned the rush of battle, the lust of death, the pleasure of revenge. Anger, fear, and hatred, those were the emotions I knew. What little sense of loyalty I had was only to Morgoth and only because he could take my life. That was all that mattered, keeping myself alive."

"You saved Ron and me when we first got here. You could have let us die," said Harry, finally able to muster a response. He stared at her, watching her eyes thought she did not look at him. "Why didn't you?"

"You don't see it? You came here because of my carelessness. Getting you home safely is for my benefit-not yours. Any physical pain I can endure, but some pain is unavoidable."

"Evil doesn't feel that pain," Harry's fists clenched as a certain female Deatheater appeared in his mind. "You said you only felt fear, anger, and hatred," he continued. "Something must have changed for you."

"I knew of other such emotions, but only their names. They filled the hearts of many victims. Fueled their actions. I never understood it, I still don't. Men asked me to kill them, saying they failed in protecting their family. Many times I did, other times their pain was amusing. I didn't understand it.

"Morgoth once saw a man as threat, but the man was still a child, a baby. Still it was my duty to kill him. It was much like your story, in the beginning. The father fought me telling his consort to run. She should have listened to him. Running would have made her death more entertaining for me. But she stayed, cowering, holding her baby in her arms. She begged me to kill only her, to spare her child's life.

"It disgusted me. I killed her child before her and watched her succumb to grief. It would have been more painful for her to live, and till that point it was what I would have done. I hesitated, and those following me saw. As we left a subordinate asked what to do with the woman. He had seen me falter I was sure of it. I ordered her death, making some reason why I couldn't kill her myself. When subordinate questioned me, I killed him. Yet there was some truth to his words."

Ettelwen fell silent, her voice trailing off. As her memory resurfaced, her composure faltered. Her eyes closed, and she shook her head dispelling the mist of the memory.

"There was no reason to tell you that," she breathed. "Perhaps it for the best though, in time you will need to know the horrors of what I've done. I do not mean to frighten you. Despite if it did or not, it's time for you to sleep. Rivendell is not far but we need to reach it before sundown. Dark times have befallen these lands, and you have landed in the midst of all of it."

Finally she stood, and like Legolas, walked to the edge of the cave, except she did not sit. Harry watched her, as the un-fueled flames began to fade. She turned looking back at him over her shoulder. The state of unconsciousness unfurled itself around him. Before darkness fell entirely upon him, he could only see diminishing firelight reflecting in the wine-colored glass of her eyes. The fire faded; her eyes faded into the darkness; words whispered in darkness.

"Nowhere is safe now….."