Author's Note: Welcome to a slight divergence from Tolkien's reality. History that never happened in canon is discussed, but it happened in this story. Enjoy.

Betaed by the amazing Noradin.

Interlude: Harry's Adventures- Part 2

In a Quiet Village I Spoke with Death

Thud, clank, clank, thud, thu- squish. Harry's groan of disgust was overshadowed by the gurgling gasps of the last orc as it fell over dead, most of its nearly black life's blood spilling out from the gash in its neck onto the wizard's head. While the packs of the beasts he had encountered weren't too hard to dispatch, the business of killing orcs was a messy one and without a nearby residence there was no way to easily clean himself. The surrounding villages had become wary with the increasing number of roadside attacks by the orcs and a suspicious stranger so obviously covered in blood wouldn't be welcomed, so renting a room and bath was out of the question.

Pulling his sword from the orc's corpse, Harry looked around the area and sighed. The group had ambushed him when he stopped a little ways from the road for a lunch break and to allow Luna a rest and a chance to graze. She was far enough away and had so many protection and notice-me-not wards on her that the orcs completely overlooked the horse and only went for the lone, seemingly defenseless man. Now the seven disfigured bodies lay strewed across the ground, guts and entrails and other such parts Harry really didn't want to think about painting the grass dark. All in clear view of the major road, which was blessedly deserted at the moment, but wouldn't stay so for long.

Harry banished the bodies with a flick of his wand and walked over to where Luna was still peacefully chewing on a patch of grass, completely unconcerned by the brutal fight that had taken place not even fifty meters in front of her and the blood-drenched man currently patting her mane. Is this level of calm and indifference normal for a horse? No, no it probably isn't.

With one final pat and a cooed "Good girl, such a wonderfully, fantastically placid good girl you are", the wizard began to lead his horse towards the woods, following the breeze that kindly offered to lead him to the nearest lake. His Invisibility Cloak was a great help when he needed to disappear in a pinch and was adequate at concealing Manny, but it had an often useful and sometimes annoying resistance to magic as a whole. It would need cleaning by hand or give him away by smell the next time he used it.

Hedwig was already perched on a low hanging branch over the tranquil body of water, using her wings and beak to clean away the dirt that had collected in her feathers over the past few days. The owl spared a single short squawk for Harry when he approached the bank, but remained focused on her task.

"So," Harry began, "you didn't feel like helping me with those orcs, huh?" Not even a twitch in response. "Some aerial support would have come in handy; one of them almost got me from behind. It's a good thing Manny was there." Only the ruffling sound of feather grooming permeated the silence. Well, if she wanted to be juvenile, then two could play that game. Facing away from his owl, Harry stated, "I see, you didn't interfere because you knew that I had it all under control. With my amazing sword skills and spectacular magical gifts, you really would have just gotten in the way, after all. You are so considerate, Hedwig, a true lady of the highest cla- Ahhhh! Oh Merlin, please: not the face!"

Several minutes later Hedwig had returned to her first-class spot to continue preening while Harry sank into the water to wash the dark stains from his cloak and attend to his newly received battle wounds, leaving Manny to recline in the midday sun. Warriors come in all shapes and sizes, from hulking mountains of muscle to terrifying tiny white bullets with talons and hooked jaws of death. Harry really needed some human companionship.

After finishing his impromptu bath, Harry left the water and joined his friends in their relaxation, spreading out on the soft dirt. He felt in no rush whatsoever and wasn't too keen on returning to his aimless wandering from town to town.

It had only been a week since Harry had left the Lonely Mountain to begin traveling west and already he could feel his resolve crumbling. Many smaller towns had cleared out and the inhabitants immigrated to large, well-defended cities that welcomed the increase in population as it brought skilled craftsmen and workers, helping industry. The race of men was not nearly as powerless as Harry had first thought; they were all banding together and presenting a strong front against the rising orc threat. Overall the camaraderie was just as heartening as it was surprising, but also left Harry once more without a motivation. His original goal to protect the undefended towns was fairly pointless now that the men were taking care of their own. So far he had only taken out a few stray bands of orcs that had tried to attack him personally; what was to be his purpose now?

Eventually the tranquility grew boring. Harry arose and led his party back to the road, counting on the blazing sun to finish drying his clothing out. Now that the afternoon had rolled around, many more merchants and travelers bustled along the trodden paths, energized by their meals and eager to arrive at their destinations.

~ Three Hours beneath the Beating Sun Later ~

Hmm, the red-bearded man with the oxen-pulled cart is headed east to visit his widowed sister, likely to help take care of the coming child whose father met a poorly timed end. Oh, wait; he is just trying to mooch some money from his happily married cousin. Drat, I should have known from that creepy, tortured mustache/goatee hybrid and the green gleam in his eyes. Moving on; that group of dwarves is going to meet their kin in Erebor, probably intending to drink their family's cellars dry and make eyes at the busty barmaid who they don't know has aged physically quite a bit since last they met. Heh, yeah; spot on. Great, I'm 4.75 out of 9.

Being on the road for so long was an exercise in patience for the wizard; he couldn't risk speaking with Manny around so many others, though the snake had no qualms about baiting Harry with obnoxious remarks, and no one seemed eager to chat with the stranger riding a horse with an owl perched on his shoulder. To keep from giving into the darker suggestions for entertainment whispered into his ear by Manny, Harry spent the drawn-out hours making up stories about the people rushing past him and then using legilimency to skim the outer edges of their thoughts to see how close his guesses were. However, even this game was getting old fast.

Fine, if you really think setting a few temptingly placed hay barrels on fire‒and really, the owners are just asking for it with that mockingly smiling fish on the back bar; all marine species are incapable of emotions beyond hatred and hunger‒is "not a polite course of action" and charming a few palms onto furtherly temptingly placed rears is "simply inappropriate to an unimaginable degree", then the least you could do is stop in a communal man-crafted tree-gathering and demand one of those already prepared nesting-hole for us. If we camp outside again and that rabies-infested, roadkill-colored bird "accidentally" tries to pick me up for a midnight snack when I sleep-slither around one more time, the fangs will be unsheathed. And I mean it this time. It's for the reals, my little tax deduction.

Oh Merlin, but that last line warranted a response. Shielding his mouth as if covering a cough, Harry asked Your little what?

I have decided to promote you from petty human minion for good behavior, and based on your stories I take it that taxes are evil manipulation tactics used by the *glove-earning-mint to control the masses and deductions are forces of good that give the underdogs a fighting chance. Thus, I dub you tax deduction!

… I have never been prouder; your grasp on 20th century Populist logic is flawless, Manny.

Yeah, I know it.

Deciding to ignore everything besides Manny's surprisingly reasonable request, Harry dug around for the Traveler's Guide and located the nearest town with a reportedly adequate Inn: a place that had once been known as **Framsburg, the capital of Éothéod, but was since reduced to a quiet, possibly abandoned village. It was inhabited solely by men and was isolated enough from the major regions being terrorized by orcs that folks hopefully wouldn't be so unwelcoming to travelers.

After enduring another few hours of nervously averted eyes and hissed criticisms that tested his capacity for forgiveness and pushed the weight on which his sanity resided to the edge before a deep abyss of homicidal rage, Harry finally spotted a large stone structure ahead in the fading light. A whispered sight-enhancing charm revealed the words Framsburg: Prosperous City of the North. Population- 30,000 25,000 14,349 900 560 CURSED carved into a rotting wooden sign fixed to the eroding wall of the abandoned guard post next to the upcoming split in the road.

It didn't fail to catch Harry's notice that no other traveler had followed the route towards Framsburg; every cart and horse had been turned away from the cracked stone path that diverged from the main road to lead to the ancient city. Mothers held their infants closer to their bosoms and clutched small children to the folds of their skirts when passing the arrow indicating it was only fifteen more miles to Framsburg this way. Men ghosted their hands over prominently displayed weapons and spat on the constantly damp patch of earth where the path first broke away.

None of this particularly bothered the wizard, though the missionary who crossed himself upon spotting Harry leading Luna down the foreboding path and the five babes that simultaneously broke into sobs were rather disturbing.

You know Manny, if you could wait until tomorrow, I am sure I could find another really nice-

No. One more word and I am not above revoking your advancement up the ranks. Do you want to be a sunbathing-cream-for-scales plantation serf? Huh? Thought not.

… Bu-… hmm.

And so Harry found himself approaching the gloomy town with only the soft thuds of Luna's hooves and Hedwig's softly ruffled breathing for company. Despite its appearance, the ivy-infested metal front gate inspired no unease within the wizard, and he found himself almost eager to see what lay behind the walls that brought out such hateful reactions in the passing people. Patting Luna's side to bring her to a halt, Harry slid to the ground and walked up to the gate's smaller door made to allow in those who weren't traveling with carts. The eye-level viewing slot didn't slide open to reveal the assessing gaze of a gatekeeper like it should have, and after a couple of minutes waiting it became apparent that nobody was coming to admit the guests in. After allowing Manny the honor of knocking with his tail first, Harry raised a fist and banged on the door twice.

With a low groan accompanied by a few high-pitched squeaks, the entire front gate snapped off of its hinges and fell solidly inwards onto the ground, raising a cloud of dust.

Nice going; thirty seconds in and you've already broken their front door. Do you still think they will let us take shelter here? Maybe? Just me, at least?

The outskirts of the town were completely abandoned. Charcoaled shells of once towering buildings stood in skeletal ruin along the blackened streets. Bats with beady eyes stared at Harry upside down from the exposed rafters as he led Luna down the deserted main street. The town seemed completely devoid of human existence, shades of gray and black taking over where any colors of life might have been once.

Just about ready to break the news about their likely sleeping arrangements to Manny, a glow in the distance stilled Harry's tongue. The dancing light of flickering fire played across the contours of one of the buildings farther down the street and the sound of childish laughter began to gradually grow louder as the wizard trekked farther into the town. At the end of the road, Harry turned the corner and promptly froze in surprise.

Before him laid what must have been the town square. Homes with drying laundry hanging on the railings were arranged in a circle around a wide wood construction working as a stage and an inactive bonfire pit. People were scattered in groups around the open space, chatting and enjoying each other's company while small children ran around playing games. Torches were lit and mounted throughout the area, shedding a pleasant light that complimented the compatible ambience. Overall, the sight was… unexpected, to say the least, but ignited a warmth that spread through his system. It had been a long time since he had seen a group of people so content.

Oh, a party. Aww, did you call ahead and set this up for me? You're so sweet taxy.

After another minute of gawking, Harry dismounted from Luna and strolled with her reigns in hand into the gathering. Conversations came to a halt as he walked by, starting up again in hushed whispers only once he passed, and the children paused to stare at Harry as though they had never seen an unknown face before. The townsfolk seemed unsure of him, but no one stopped him as he made his way to the establishment marked Framsburg's Finest: Pub and Inn. Loosely tethering Luna to a post, Harry went inside.

The same warm mood filled the room; a dozen people populated the bar and surrounding tables and friendly murmurs filled the air. Harry was given the same surprised silent treatment by the patrons, but once more no one rose to intercept him as he took a seat at the bar.

"A glass of water, if you would be so kind," Harry asked the still bartender, setting his bag of coins on the counter. "I intend to order more later."

With a nod, the man continued to wipe down the mug in his hands then went to pour a glass from the pitcher. Discussion once more picked up as Harry continued to make no hostile moves, but the wizard could still feel several sets of eyes on the back of his head as he waited for his drink.

I hope you're happy, Manny, Harry hissed lowly. We are in the creepy town, I am about to buy us a room for the night, and you no longer have to fear annihilation by digestion. But we are gone in the morning. It's disturbing how un-freaked out this place is making me; the shivers that crawl up one's spine are our friends. They warn us when danger is near and their complete absence is more frightening than their presence would be. In a near ghost-town with only a burning nucleus, the nerves should be alert and active.

Hey, no need to be lonely. If you want, I could slither up your spine a few times if it would make you feel better. How about it?

… Never mind; I feel perfectly fine.

Harry looked up to see if his drink was ready as a way to try and change the subject from the worrying turn it had taken, only to find the bartender unmoving with his hand on the handle of the pitcher where it had been a minute earlier. Out of the corner of his eyes, Harry observed the men on either side of the bar from him and saw them frozen as well. The brew inside one of the customer's tipping mugs had even gone motionless; a droplet hung halfway down the side, stopped in its track.

Manny, are you okay?

Hmm? I'd be happier if we would go outside and join the fiesta, but in general I'm a content Ruler of All, as always.

And can you sense Hedwig?

Yeah, yeah, she is flapping around outside like usual. I am still righteously pissed about you binding us together, you know. It will make it so much more awkward when we have our inevitable final battle to the bloody end.

A slight breeze blew through Harry's hair and the feeling of abrupt displacement warned him that something had just taken residence in the vacant seat directly beside him. The firelight dimmed, heightening the shadows around the room, and his breath came out in a visible cloud, though the air grew no colder. Intertwining his fingers and setting his elbows on the surface in front of him, Harry pointedly kept his gaze straight ahead on the line of bottle set across the wall.

"It would have been nice if you had showed up a few minutes later; I really am quite parched." A clear, liter-sized glass of water swooshed into existence next to Harry's elbow on the counter, a miniature pink umbrella floating around the brim. "Cute."

"I really can be when I try, can't I?" a smooth, low pitched, yet obviously female voice relied from his right. Keeping his face carefully blank, Harry turned his head to study the figure beside him. A spectacled woman that appeared to be of Asian descent wearing a pressed red dress-like garment sat next to him, nursing a Bud Light. The picture was so very out of place from the past ten years he had spent in Middle Earth that it took him a moment to realize that this appearance could have some sort of deeper meaning.

"Give me a minute." The woman took a sip from her beer as Harry examined her closely. Soon he gave up. "Nope, I really don't get this. I understand that you're Death and have infinite power and what not, but this display isn't ringing any bells. Is it supposed to be the start of some awful beer commercial?"

The woman raised her eyebrows. "Infinite power? You flatter me. Do I really not look familiar?" She received a blank stare. "The trial before your sixth year at the Ministry of Magic?" No recognition sparked. "Fine; how about this one?" The air around her briefly shimmered and then sitting next to him was Sirius Black.

Harry rose from his seat, knocking the stool over in his haste, and pulled the Sword of Gryffindor from his sheath, pointing it at the fake version of his godfather. "Yes, all right; you can be anywhere at any time wearing any face. That's all very fine and scary, but would you kindly remove my godfather's likeliness from your person? That is a line I would like us not to cross, agreed Mandos? I haven't a clue if you can take damage, but I wouldn't be opposed to some experimenting."

The shaggy-haired man gave a mocking grin before morphing into a different body. "Agreed." The suited older gentleman raised his beverage, a glass goblet containing red wine, in salute and took another sip.

Taking a seat once more, Harry sat with his legs spread and hands rested on the space between his thighs, leaning towards Mandos. "So, I would love to know why, after ten years of silence, you decide to show up in a random bar in some forsaken town. Finally got bored with the orc slaughters that are so popular these days?"

"Oh, on the contrary, my Master," the man challenged, setting his glass down, "I believe this is the perfect backdrop for our long-overdue meeting. Tell me, do you know any of Framsburg's riveting history?"

"Not much, I'm afraid. History lessons haven't been at the top of my list lately."

"That's a pity; I find this town to be a rather spot-on representation of your acquired position."

This caught Harry's attention. The question of what exactly the title "Master of Death" entailed had always eluded him. How could one achieve mastery over a universal fact of life, and what did it even mean to have conquered Death? A chance to have his questions answered was not one he could, or would, pass up.

"You see, this was once a wondrous city, the capital of an entire region and the apple of the North's eye. The advancements in weaponry made here were legendary and Framsburg came to represent the might of mankind in Middle Earth. Then Sauron rose to power. Monstrous beings from all corners of the lands came running to his call for an army. The orcs of Mount Gundabad rained down from their caves and passed through Framsburg on their way. They tore through the streets, burning and pillaging at their leisure. Outgunned by the sheer number of orcs, the leader of the city did something condemned as unforgivable by the rest of the North; he called a retreat. The civilians were led out of the city and any surviving fighters were ordered only to save what they could from the city and to avoid engaging in combat unless in defense. The great Framsburg fell at no one's hands; there was no planned attack, only an unfortunate turn of Luck that some orc decided to take that route south. She always was a bit of a bitch like that."

"This city, once filled to the brink with traders and travelers from all over, was thrown carelessly into exile by the King of Éothéod, its status as the capital revoked. Outsiders believe the population to be wiped out, thinking it justice for their cowardice. Yet, this couldn't be farther from the truth. The people here have thrived, banding together and condensing themselves into the very center of this vast city. They formed a small, community-based village in the wake of the tragedy, and have found happiness in anonymity. Though not unwelcoming of strangers, as you must have noticed, they keep to themselves and are better off for it. They aren't unlike cockroaches, really; a metaphor I find fitting for all of humanity and its reluctance to die out, but I digress."

"Yes, and this applies to me how, precisely?" Harry demanded. While it was an enthralling story, he was far more interested in gaining answers rather than being entertained.

Mandos sighed disappointedly. "So much time, yet still so impatient. Very well. You saw the way other wanderers reacted to the road leading to Framsburg, yet you continued on your way."

"Manny was rather testy, so I-"

"Please, don't pretend that soggy twig can control your actions. You felt comfortable traveling here, maybe even a kinship with the city once you saw it. Why do you believe that is?"

"I don't know; I loved Hogwarts as soon as I caught sight of the castle and it had the same spooky, old-ruins vibe to it as well. And I thought we moved past the part where you think you have the right to disrespect my friends and family," Harry grounded out, playing his fingers around the hilt of his still drawn sword that rested across his knee, pointing at Mandos.

Waving away the threat, the deity continued. "Those feelings came from the respect you felt for the pure drive to not only survive, but to thrive. You yourself are the sole survivor of an entire world, and you escaped the ruins of the old to come make a fresh start here. As the Master of Death, you are the one person who has grown to both understand death and welcome me with open arms, unconditionally. It is your duty to seek out tragedy and assist those who can't accept death and are willing to fight for their lives. Tell me, do you really believe it a coincidence that you arrived on the brink of a war threatening to plummet the entirety of this land into chaos?"

Something that had been plaguing Harry for weeks finally clicked, causing a shard of guilt to form in his gut. "The voices I heard near Erebor; they were from those trying to survive the destruction of Dale and the Battle of Five Armies‒and failing. People I could have helped." I wasn't here yet, there is nothing I could have done. It's not my fault, it's not my fault, not my fault… "But, I have walked across a battlefield before; hell, I was the central figure in a bloody world-ending war. Why am I only starting to hear these voices now?"

Mandos smiled and clapped his hands, startling Harry as a mug of beer fell and shattered on the floor. Curses rose from a table in the back and the rest of the patrons in the bar laughed at the unfortunate dripping man that had been standing too close to the accident.

"Now you are finally beginning to ask the right questions." With that little bit of wisdom jammed down Harry's throat, Mandos vanished just as he had arrived, leaving an annoyed and confused wizard and an annoyingly confused Manny.

What did the man-lady say about me? I know I heard my name; is he joining the winning side in the reptile vs. avian war?

… Let's just get a room; I need alcohol and sleep tonight. "Make that water a beer, please."

End Author's Note: I have a question for you wonderful readers regarding the future of this story: from a range of near-total canon to oh-dear-God-where-did-that-come-from, how far should the plot follow along with the actual events of LotR? Do you wish to see Harry-induced divergences, or a total game-changer element introduced? I have a good idea of where this is going, but I want your thoughts as well.

If you want an image of Mandos's main persona, google the horseman Death from Supernatural.

* Manny-speech for government

**this is a Tolkien-created "real" city of Middle Earth. Most (if not all) of the history explained is non-canon, though