Chapter 8 - Journey


Harry wasn't sure what he expected to happen, when he woke up the next morning, but he did expect something to have changed.

The kind smiles and offered food did not lessen, however. And yet, despite that, he found himself wondering once more if these men would leave him here. They had given no indication that they would do so, but considering his past experiences (with the Dursleys) and the discovery the men had made last night he didn't dare hope that they would actually… still take him along, despite his abnormality.

His fears were quickly diffused when the man he had ridden with the day before again lifted him onto the horse. With a soft kick to the animal's flanks they were crossing the extensive open land before them once more. And, though it may have been his imagination, it seemed to Harry that the men had urged their steeds to do so at a faster pace than the day before.

Harry let his apprehension about the men's reaction to his ears lay to rest for now and enjoyed the ride over the open country, straining his head in every direction to view more of this world and enjoying the soft breeze caressing his face and hair.

When they stopped to pause at lunchtime, Harry felt his anxiety return. He did not think they would leave him behind now (if they wanted to leave him, they would have done so this morning) but he was still completely unsure of these people's reaction to his ears.

Their treatment of them, however, did not really change. They still smiled at him, rattled off gibberish at him and provided him with water and food. He started to relax a bit in their presence and, after their mid-day meal, he finally learned the names of his companions.

Apparently it had dawned on them that he couldn't understand them at all, and they introduced themselves now with nothing more than a hand on their chest and a name, which they repeated a few times for him.

He nodded to show that he understood and mentally put the names and faces together, but neither did he repeat the names, nor did he offer his own in return.

A part of him felt guilty for not trusting them with who he was, especially since they had been nothing but kind to him so far. And yet, it was hard to just throw of the reluctance he had long since acquired about giving his name to anyone who did not already know who he was. He had too many bad experiences linked to who and what he was; the Dursley's, Snape, the entire school during the whole 'heir of Slytherin' and 'Second Tri-wizard Champion' debacles, the hate, fear and scorn he had been subjected to by all of them were linked to who and what he was. Certainly there were also those who practically worshipped him for being their 'saviour' but he hated that just as much, perhaps even more.

And, although there should be no way for these men in a different world to know who he was even if he gave them his name, he could not help but feel hesitant to tell them. To them he was a stranger now, they did not notice the significance of his scar. He liked it that way.

Once, when he had a similar chance of anonymity in his own world, he had fooled Stan, the conductor of the Knight Bus, into believing his name to be Neville (which was how the man had kept calling him even after he had been revealed as Harry).

But contrary to then he really did not want to lie to them, and yet, he did not want to these men the truth either. So instead of giving his name or a fake one in its stead he remained silent.

The men did not appear to be offended by his unfriendly behaviour but he knew that looks could be deceiving. They might have just concealed it.

They soon continued on their journey, and Harry was now indeed sure that they were travelling a lot faster than the day before. And, as the day turned to night and they stopped once more, it also became clear to Harry that they really weren't offended by his reserve. He sighed in relief, glad that they weren't too easily offended, and slept peacefully through the night.


Days passed in much the same manner and Harry became more and more used to the men in whose company he had landed.

He had gotten a shirt from Halbarad that was even bigger on him than Dudley shirts had ever been. The thought amused him now, though thinking about it had always made him feel somewhat ashamed before.

Back then the overly large shirts were a sign of his family's disregard for him and had made him feel very self-conscious of the fact that he was shown as being… almost… worthless… to the rest of the world. He had learned he wasn't worthless over the years, of course. Ron and Hermione's friendships and the motherly warmth of Molly Weasley along with the feeling of welcome that the rest of the Weasleys had always made him feel had cured him of much of such beliefs. And while the shame and pain of being unloved and unwanted by his own family had always remained, it had become far more bearable.

Now, amongst these people who he barely knew and who he could hardly communicate with, the reminder wasn't as painful as it might have been. The Dursleys may have given him those large clothes as a discourtesy, but these men actually welcomed him amongst them, despite all barriers between them. Thurston had let him use his cloak out of compassion and Halbarad had given him a shirt out of kindness, and though it was not really that much of a big deal, somehow it made him feel… comforted and happy.

So, clothed in an overly large shirt and even larger cloak, with his seashell still in his possession he felt, despite the ridiculous picture that he must make, safer and more welcome than he had since coming to this world. His worries and fears faded and he allowed himself to relax a bit in the presence of his companions.

The child in him was fully enjoying the rush of wind he felt when the horses sped up just a bit faster and finding the same freedom and happiness in these surroundings as he had in the forest. He basked in this feeling, letting it engulf him as they crossed the wide-spread land before them and it did not leave him even when they stopped, at the banks of the wide, clear river that for much of their journey had been visible on his right.


Halbarad looked at the child in shock when, for the first time in the four days that the elfling had now been travelling with them, he heard the sound of the child's musical voice.

The soft, innocent laughter of the little elf floated out over the grassland and river and he could not help but smile at the sight of the little one's splashing close to the banks of the Brandywine River and was glad that they had taken a break there, though at the time the decision to bend off to the river had been made more with regard of the horses and refilling their waterskins than the playful bathing of the little boy.

From his position a bit further upstream from where the child was bathing Halbarad had a clear view of everything transpiring further down; Dunnere had been keeping an eye on the horses while they drank but was now completely distracted by the elven laughter. His youngest companion had never met an elf before the little one and seemed utterly captivated, Halbarad sighed and walked to the horses, having finished filling the waterskins. He shot the man a look as he passed him but did not comment. There was no real danger here, but becoming distracted could prove fatal to a ranger in a more dangerous area.

Dunnere met his eyes and received the warning look with a nod, while young he was no fool and he interpreted the message without it needing to be said. The man turned back to the horses, but kept an ear out to where the young one was bathing on Thurston's watch.

Halbarad patted the younger man on the shoulder and moved to their packs, putting away the water. The horses were rested and watered and their own water refilled.

They could be on their way now.

He turned his gaze back to the river, his eyes easily drawn to the large form of Thurston and the small, lively form of the boy.

Since finding out that the child in their care was an elfling, Halbarad had sped up their travel, wanting to reach his Captain as soon as possible, hoping that perhaps Aragorn would be there early or otherwise nearby enough for him to find. He had been anxious to find someone actually capable of speaking with the child.

But, though they still needed to reach Aragorn swiftly, the appointed time would do, Halbarad felt now.

Despite the barriers of race and language, the elfling was starting to become more at ease in their presence and the ranger was sure now that the child would not suddenly bolt from them.

So he sat back upon the banks of the Brandywine and allowed the sounds of splashes and laughter to wash over him.

They could wait for just a little bit longer.


A.N: Ugh, this chapter did not want to be written. Hence the revenge of the shorter chapter, and the interlude-ish feel of this… .
Don't worry, though. Next chapter Aragorn does finally make his appearance. Yay! ^-^

Now, on to other stuff;

I tried to upload a map of where Harry came to Arda; the link is on my profile page!

I'm not sure if it works, but I hope so! The biggest blue X is where he landed, the second x is where he met up with the rangers and the third is where the rangers are supposed to meet with Aragorn. Oh, and don't even try to ask me what in the world the rangers were even doing out there. Because that is a plot-hole I have no idea how to fill...

To Anonimity, Butterbutt, Wraith and gaia;
Thanks for reviewing my story! ^-^ Since I can't send a PM to answer anonymous reviews I wanted to still let you know that you're comments and encouragements are much appreciated. So, thank you for taking the time to let me know what you think of my story.

Oh, and thanks WishingWanderer for encouraging me to provide Harry with a shirt. Lol. Yeah, I kind of didn't think of it anymore…

Also many thanks to everyone who put this story on their alerts or favourite list! It's so awesome to see that people are actually reading and enjoying my story.
It completely baffles the mind…