Chapter 9:
Harry eyed the beings in front of him wearily, a bit put off by the smell they were emanating. Why was it that fierce, bloodthirsty beings always had to look so horrible and smell even worse? It seemed to be nature's way of stereotyping. 'You're going to play the part of the evil henchmen, and you're going to look and smell the part.'
The thingamabobs were truly disgusting individuals. Persistent, as they fought steadily against Harry's waning wards without pause, Harry would give them that, but disgusting nonetheless. Harry didn't know what kind of fighters the things made, but they could certainly ugly or smell somebody to death.
More worrisome than their scent, however, was the fact that there were so many of them. There had to be about twenty of them surrounding he and Legolas.... which meant twenty times the odor and twenty times the ugly.
Where were giant spiders when you needed them? These guys would make a great snack for them while Harry and Legolas beat a hasty retreat. By gods and goddesses couldn't fates actually work with him for once?! Was it really too much to ask? Didn't he have any good karma saved up from that whole Voldemort fiasco?!
"Legolas, what's the elven word or equivalent for 'fuck'?," Harry inquired, wanting to vent in a way that all present parties would understand.
"I'll teach you Sindarin later," the blond elf replied, jumping to his feet and grabbing his bow and recently replenished bag of arrows. "Until then do you know any spells that can take out twenty Orcs in one blow?"
"Wish I did, it would be damn useful in any world, but unfortunately I don't," Harry responded, despondent, reaching into his back pocket to draw his wand, "I do know this, though, Protego!"
Instantly a shield popped up, replacing the falling wards, and buying he and Legolas more time.
"What are these things, exactly? Or is this one of those things that I'm better off not knowing? You know, ignorance is bliss - incapacitate first, ask questions later?" Harry inquired, flashing a taunting grin at the Orcs who were throwing their bodies against his shield, which only resulted in them throwing themselves even harder.
Obviously the thingamabobs weren't the sharpest tools in the shed. That certainly helped. It sucked when evil, malicious beings actually contained intelligence.
"Man-eaters, slaves of Morgoth," Legolas replied distractedly, drawing his bow.
"Of course they are, I mean, they couldn't come in peace and harmony to welcome me to their land and offer up some tea and crumpets - they'd have to be man-eaters. Right is the way of my life," Harry deadpanned, before turning to his soulmate. "I'm going to have to take the shield down before can shoot them. Tell me when you're ready."
"I'm ready," Legolas stated, a look of grim determination flashing bright in his eyes.
Harry liked that look on Legolas, a lot. It was so feral…
Physically shaking himself back into the present he waved his wand and called Finite and Rictusempra in rapid succession, causing the shield to fall and the Orcs to burst into body shaking laughter.
Legolas threw Harry an exasperated look.
"What?! I had short notice, give me break, here. It's occupying them for the moment, isn't it?" Harry defended himself with a wide grin.
Harry thought he heard Legolas murmur something equivalent to 'never a dull moment' but couldn't be certain. At any rate, the Orcs were fighting against their urges to laugh and moving shakily forward.
They really were persistent little buggars.
Legolas starting shooting, one arrow after the other, hitting a target nearly every time, and Harry briefly allowed himself a moment to watch as the approaching Orcs started to fall, one by one, like the pieces to Ron's chess set.
"Petrificus Totalus," Harry called out, freezing a handful of the closer ones, while Legolas shot those lagging further behind.
Harry noticed out of the corner of his eyes that a few of the Orcs had broken away from the others and were stealthily approaching Legolas from the side.
His heart started pounding rapidly in his chest, and he panicked at the thought of the things getting too close to his soulmate.
"Sectumsempra," Harry called out, feeling the addicting power that came from using dark magic spreading throughout his body, washing him in heady determination. Several angry gashes and deep cuts appeared on the Orcs bodies as a result of the spell, but still they moved forward, driven by an unknown need.
Harry felt as if his heart had jumped to his throat. He couldn't let them get Legolas - he wouldn't.
The dark magic Harry had conjured by using the Sectumsempra spell swelled in his body, demanding release, his anger and fear at the thought of Legolas getting hurt fueling the proverbial fire.
No one or thing hurt Legolas, no one.
"Avada Kedavra, Avada Kedavra, Avada Kedavra," Harry called out, and a bright green light flashed from his wand, stunning all the remaining Orcs around them into stillness, while the three Orcs that had been approaching Legolas fell to the ground, instantly dead.
The Orcs remaining alive, stunned by such a display, decided wisely to play their odds and retreat, Legolas firing arrows into their backs as they turned and ran. All the while Harry stood there, looking down on his wand, stunned.
He had used the killing curse.
He had promised himself that he would never use that curse, not after the war. He hated it. Hated the power of it. Hated the reminder of the Dark Lord who had used it to kill Harry's parents and then also tried to use it to kill Harry, himself, several times. Harry had never wanted to see, or hear, or even reference it again, and yet he had done it. Delighted in doing it - did it with malicious glee.
He was scaring himself.
He didn't have a horcrux inside of him any longer. He no longer had that excuse for extreme anger, or for violent episodes. Any dark or malevolent part of his personality that manifested was a result of Harry's own soul, no longer driven by the influence of Voldemort.
Once Legolas noticed that something was off with his soulmate, he rushed to Harry's side, his hands coming up to grab Harry's arms.
Harry started to shake.
"Harry, what's wrong," Legolas asked, concern clouding his features.
"I just did something bad, Legolas," he choked out, his voice gruff and hollow.
"No you didn't, you saved me, Harry. I didn't see those Orcs coming. Thank you, thank you for saving my life," Legolas responded in earnest, stepping closer to Harry and taking him in his arms.
The warmth that spread through Harry's body at their contact contrasted mightily with the coldness he felt from his actions.
"I could have defended you in a different way, but I didn't. I panicked, and I used the most vile curse ever," Harry replied, his voice distant to his own ears.
It was the weirdest way to figure out that you loved somebody.
Harry wasn't just falling in love with Legolas - he was in love already. Loved him enough that the thought of losing him had pushed Harry over his natural revulsion to the killing curse in order to save him. And it wasn't just a matter of him wanting to save Legolas, no, he had wanted those beings exterminated for even thinking of harming his elf.
He had wanted them gone from existence.
You had to mean it for a dark curse to work. You had to want it.
Harry wished this revelation that he was in love hadn't come at such a cost. It was so damn frightening that Harry couldn't tell which way was up and down at the moment. The fear of loving someone that much, so much that you'd lose moral integrity for them, if only briefly, was overwhelming.
Harry wasn't sure which part of his feelings and actions frightened him more, the fact that Legolas had that kind of power over him, or the thought that he had felt justified in using the darkest magic in existence to protect the one he loved.
Both were sobering.
Having a soulmate was the greatest gift ever, but it did come at a cost. All love came at a cost.
A part of him, the instinctual part, wanted to run again. Wanted to Apparate away from Legolas, as he had before, and find somewhere private to lick his proverbial wounds and ponder the philosophy of it all, but one look into Legolas' deep well of endless blue eyes deterred that action from being carried out.
None of this was Legolas' fault. Legolas didn't even know what the significance of the Avada Kedavra was, and what part it had played in molding Harry's life.
Harry didn't know where to begin to explain it.
The soulmate bond between them must come with a small smidgen of mind-reading because Legolas rubbed his hands against Harry's upper arms, comforting him, loving him, and said in a clear, partly commanding, partly pleading voice…
"Tell me why you're upset. I want to know, Harry," the elf requested, "and no more vague references, and flippant narrative, I want to know it all."
Harry wasn't the touchy feeling, share-your-feelings type. He never had been. Vulnerability was best left underplayed; he had learned that lesson the hard way. He had always been able to take anything that life threw at him stoically, determinedly. Actions mattered, not words.
But he felt so old in that moment, so drained, and if anyone had a right to know what he was getting into by associating with Harry, it was Legolas.
Harry hadn't been kidding, not really, when he had warned Legolas that the elf was tempting fate by being with him.
So he told him, everything. How his parents had died and why. The prophecy, and what it meant. The war and the toll it took on his world. Sirius, Dumbledore, Dobby and Snape, and how their lives had been angst ridden and tragic. Horcruxes and possessed rings, lockets and cups, and the two most loyal friends that a guy could ask for, aside from the brief relapse into betrayal that Ron had indulged in.
There were good points, it wasn't all bad. His friendships were strong, and the ability to use magic was wonderful. Harry would do it all again for those two things if asked.
He told Legolas that, too.
When he was done he stared distantly at a point above Legolas' shoulder, refusing to meet his soulmate's eyes.
The confessing had been almost therapeutic in a way, as if finally releasing a damn that had been steadily building in his soul throughout the entirety of his life… the dealing with the emotional upheaval afterwards, not so much, and intimidating in its own right.
If given the choice between fighting thingamabobs or dealing with emotional confrontation, Harry would take the Orcs, smelly though they were, hands down.
A soft voice permeated his daze, "I think you're the bravest person I've ever met and I thank the Valar with everything I am that they chose me to be your soulmate," the voice stated, and Harry figured he was right… Legolas would have definitely been a greeting card writer had he lived in the world Harry had come from.
"I think you're kind of soppy," Harry said instead, with smile and watery eyes, moving forward to lay his head on his soulmate's shoulder.
"Only for you," the elf replied, bringing his hands up to run his fingers gently through Harry's hair.
Harry breathed in deeply at the wonderful sensation this elicited, and purred briefly in contentment, relieved, in a way, that the serious mood conjured by everything he had just told Legolas had been broken so easily by their effortless camaraderie.
He wished all soul-rendering, in-depth conversations could end this way, resting peaceful in the arms of the one he loved, no further words necessary.
But they couldn't stay like that forever, and they both knew it.
Hesitantly Legolas stepped away from Harry, his eyes indicating that he wanted to say more in regards to Harry's past, but one look from his soulmate had him halting, and altering his approach…
"I am going to give you happy memories," the blond elf promised earnestly, taking one of Harry's hands into both of his.
"You already have," Harry replied, and he meant it. Kissing Legolas that first time, and every time they had touched after that, was enough happiness to produce a thousand Patronuses…
Harry figured he was getting pretty soppy, too.
Legolas brought that out of him.
To be continued…
