Chapter 10 - Bree
Harry was still tired when a voice called him awake. In his somewhat sleepy haze he almost thought it was Remus, though the man had never actually had to wake him, but the voice wasn't quite right. But then, he was sure that it wasn't Hermione, Ron or any of the other Weasleys. And it definitely wasn't Aunt Petunia's screeching voice.
The strangeness of the whole situation made him open his eyes despite his desire to sleep a little bit longer and he found himself once more returned to reality. 'Oh, right. I'm not there anymore.' The thought brought both a pang of loss and relief with it.
Harry didn't want to dwell on either of those feelings and pushed them both away.
He sat up, accepting the smiles, unknown words that he was actually starting to somewhat recognize as the same greeting he had gotten each morning, and food offered by the men. The 'good morning, little one' he received in a language he could actually understand was new and he turned his head to face the man who had only joined them yesterday. "Good morning" he softly returned to Estel before ducking his head and busying himself with his breakfast. He had just enough time to finish it and grab his little seashell before he was once more lifted onto a horse.
This time Harry found himself riding with Thurston again. The familiarity of the situation relaxed him, and the previous late night had tired him out (that probably had something to do with having a child's body) so, though he tried to fight it at first, in the end he figured it would do no harm and gave in to his sleepiness. He allowed himself to lean against the by now familiar man and let his eyes close once more. He only vaguely heard Thurston call something to the others, and he did not feel it as the horse slowed down a bit as he gave in to slumber once more.
Aragorn was immediately on guard when he heard Thurston call out to them to slow down a bit. He turned to the man to find out what was wrong and relaxed when he noticed that there was no danger or harm. He smiled, looking at the peaceful child in front of the man.
Apparently the late travel the night before coupled with their early awakening had taken its toll on the little one. They slowed their horses to a pace that would prove less jarring to the slumbering boy, allowing him a little more rest.
The elfling was still asleep when noon passed them by and instead of stopping for food and a short rest they rode on. Bree was not far now and they were not unaccustomed to travelling without rest or food. Delaying their mid-day break until they reached the village was no real hardship for any of them.
When Bree-hill came into sight, Thurston thought it time to wake the little one. The child blinked awake when he called to him and he granted the boy a smile. "Hello again, child" he greeted, despite the knowledge that the child did not know the language. He was sure the elfling understood it as a greeting nonetheless.
Once he noticed that the boy had become more aware he pointed forward, accompanying his gesture with an explanation, though the boy would not understand it: "That's Bree-hill. The village of Bree, where we are going, lies on one of the slopes."
Harry's eyes followed the direction of the man's finger to the hill he could see in front of him and as he did so he noticed the first signs of civilization other than these men. On the hillside he could, even with his improved eyesight, only just discern something that might have been a settlement of some sorts. But even closer by he noticed the signs of people; some fields lay alongside the road in the distance and there were some houses and pastures as well.
'Is this the end of our journey?' he wondered, becoming anxious at the thought. 'What will happen to me now?'
The men slowed their horses to a walk and Estel came to ride beside them. "Tonight we will rest and restock our supplies in the village of Bree." the man told him and Harry immediately felt relieved when he realised that this meant it wasn't their ultimate destination. He knew it was sort of silly of him, 'I mean, we can't just keep travelling forever without eventually getting somewhere, but…' But he wasn't ready for whatever it was that would happen when they reached the end of their journey and he was glad to know that whatever or wherever it was they were travelling to, this wasn't yet it.
He was broken from those thoughts when the man next to him called to him once more, his tone seemed somewhat hesitant and succeeded in drawing Harry's full attention immediately.
"Little one." Aragorn started, speaking softly to the child, not sure how to say this and afraid it would make the child even more uncomfortable around Men. But it needed to be said if they wanted their visit to Bree to go as smoothly as possible. "For the time it might be best to keep your heritage hidden." The child tilted his head sideways to look up at him more easily and he gave the elfling another gentle smile; "Men tend to react with fear or wonder to things they do not completely understand."
He slowly reached out with his long arms, careful not to startle the boy, and covered the child's head with the large hood of the cloak he wore. "Though the men of Bree are more familiar with the other races that inhabit the world than most Men, and though they are not necessarily rude or unpleasant, they are somewhat suspicious of those unknown to them and they have had few encounters with elfkind. It might be best to keep a low profile."
'Elfkind?' Harry wondered, the image of Dobby the first thing in his mind. He smiled, feeling certain that this was not exactly what Estel meant. No, the man had been referring to Harry's pointy ears, that much was obvious from the hood now covering them (and most of his face due to the large size), as well as from the reactions of Thurston, Halbarad and Dunnere when they first discovered them.
His ears indicated something about what he now was; something about his 'heritage' as Estel called it. It made sense in a way; hadn't the voices gone on about Harry's bloodline, his ancestors who they called 'the Eldar'? Perhaps 'elf' was just another word for the same.
Harry nodded his head in reply to the man; he would definitely keep his ears hidden. The situation was very familiar to him. Only now it wasn't his scar that defined him as different like it had been in the wizarding world. Now it was his ears that set him apart from the others.
They rode slowly towards the hillside on which Harry could now see the village more easily. The village was encircled with a thick hedge of sorts. As they came even closer he noticed that there was a gate where the road they were on made it to the village.
When they neared the southern gate of Bree, the Dúnedain dismounted.
Aragorn turned to look once more at their charge, whom Thurston had easily lifted of the horse as well. He had warned the child that the Bree-folk might become suspicious if they noticed the elven ears, but he knew that even without them visible, their little group would still be met with much distrust.
The child looked very sweet, dressed in the large shirt and even larger cloak, but it would certainly emphasize to the Men of Bree just how out of place the boy was in the company of Rangers. And though the suspicion would naturally fall upon the Rangers (who the Bree-landers were already much mistrustful of) and not on the child, it might still make their stay in Bree an awkward or unpleasant one.
He sighed, hoping that the reactions of the Bree-folk would not be too frightening to the little one. The boy had already shown himself to be somewhat hesitant and withdrawn; he could see that clearly from his own observations and it was affirmed by what he had heard from Halbarad, Dunnere and Thurston. He knew that the crowded village of Men would probably make the child a bit uncomfortable, but it could not be helped. They needed supplies, after all, to continue their journey to Rivendell and since there were no other places to get them between here and their destination, stopping in Bree could not be avoided.
They would just have to shield the elfling as best they could.
Aragorn softly patted the child's head as he passed him to briefly speak with the others before their entry into Bree.
Estel softly patted him on his cloak covered head before turning to the others and exchanging a few more words. Harry's eyes followed him along as he felt somewhat shocked by the simple gesture.
He had already grown a bit accustomed to the men, especially Thurston but also Halbarad, Dunnere and even Estel despite his only recent arrival. He had travelled with these men for days now and gotten used to their presence and riding with them. They lifted him up and down from their horse and kept him steady if they were going too fast. But this was the first time any of them had touched him in a non-essential way and it made him feel a bit uncomfortable and yet comforted at the same time.
He had never really liked to be touched. Hugs by his friends or Mrs. Weasley always made him feel a bit awkward since he was so unused to them. He felt the same uncomfortable awkwardness at this little gesture and yet… And yet he also felt the same warmth he had felt when Halbarad had given him one of his shirts. The feeling of being accepted, wanted.
When Estel turned back to him, having apparently finished his conversation with the other men, Harry still wasn't quite sure how he felt about it. And he didn't get the chance to ponder it any further as the shock of a second such action came over him. "Stay close" the man whispered as he took the reins of his horse in one hand, and held Harry's own small hand in the other.
Together they followed Halbarad and Dunnere as they moved to the gate at the town's edge, while Thurston took the rear of their little group.
Harry should have expected it from the clothing, weapons and horses of the men he had been travelling with but he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by how medieval the town seemed to be. Sure, the wizarding world often seemed to still live in the Middle Ages, but even living amongst them for half his life hadn't really prepared him for this.
There were people, horses, carts and even more people going about their business. The streets were filled with the sound of voices, all calling, talking, yelling in a language he could not understand. And although it was not nearly as busy as some of the places he had been to (like King's Cross or the Great Hall of Hogwarts during dinner time) it still overwhelmed him.
In the past days he had become accustomed to the silent, watchful air and soft, kind voices of his current companions. The loudness and harshness of this town was unexpected and overwhelming. He was suddenly very glad for the hand that held his own and decided to 'stay' very 'close' indeed. He almost felt as if he were back in Diagon Alley, that first time. He remembered how grateful he had been for the gentle half-giant's presence and he took the same comfort now from the presence of the four men with him.
After a while the panicked, overwhelmed feeling lessened slightly and he became a bit more used to the people all around him, though they still made him feel small and uncomfortable. So, still holding Estel's hand with one of his own, and clutching his little seashell in the other he started looking around a bit more.
The people in Bree were a lot different than those he travelled with, he noticed. They were shorter, their faces more open and cheerful and most of them had a brownish hair colour, many shades lighter than that of Harry's tall, dark-haired companions. Their clothing was just as old fashioned as that of Estel, Thurston and the others but also very different: the colours that these Bree-men wore were less sombre, the style more elaborate and the fabric less worn and stained. 'Less suitable for battle.' Harry realised after a moment. With that realisation he scanned the crowds once more and noted that indeed, these men were not armed like the men he travelled with. Most of these people wore no weapons whatsoever, though he could manage to pick out a knife in a sheath here and there.
Besides the men and woman, he also saw smaller people that he had first assumed were children. But after a few more glances he noticed this wasn't the case. They were shorter than the men, yes, but their features looked like those of a grown up and they were carrying stuff, driving carts and working like adults. Their feet, Harry observed a moment later, truly gave them away as different, just as his ears did. Their feet were fairly hairy, not to mention bare. The humans all wore boots or other shoewear.
Harry wasn't the only one observing, he was also being observed, gawked at and eyed by many of the people they passed. Once he noticed that, he grew more and more uncomfortable under the looks these people shot at him and he unconsciously drew himself closer to Estel's side, trying to find shelter from their gazes. It was very much like his first time in Diagon Alley indeed.
Aragorn and his men easily picked their way through the crowded, afternoon bustle of Bree. He ignored the looks and muttering that accompanied them on the streets, knowing that the fact that there were four of them as well as that there was a little boy with them, was enough to feed the gossip in the village for a long time.
They made their way towards the inn, wanting to acquire rooms before braving the streets again to find the supplies they needed. Most of the food they could find at the Prancing Pony but another waterskin would certainly not be remiss, as well as some other items if they could find them, and if people would sell it to them for a reasonable price.
Aragorn startled when he noticed the elfling press closer against him, and looked down to see the child shrinking from the looks sent their way.
He stopped ignoring the people then and repaid every stare with one of his own, causing those who were caught in his gaze to turn away.
Harry was relieved when they entered what looked like an inn. The inside was actually somewhat familiar to him in that it was not wholly different from the Leaky Cauldron and the Three Broomsticks. And, although this inn was very medieval, the atmosphere was less dark, dim and dingy than in the Hog's Head.
He stood silently at Estel's side as Halbarad spoke to the bartender. He noticed that this man kept shooting him a few looks as well, but tried to ignore it as best as he could. The bartender seemed to call to someone else and a few moments later they were being led down a corridor by one of the short people with hairy feet.
They were shown a room with a sturdy table and six chairs as well as a fire-place with a pair of comfortable looking chairs in front of it. The short man left them there, and he returned with their late lunch.
Quietly they ate, and it was wonderful to finally have a slightly more elaborate lunch than their travel food, and after they were all done, Halbarad and Estel moved a bit away from them and started discussing something. Harry wasn't sure what they were talking about, but apparently it interested the others as well, for they were drawn into the conversation as well.
Surprisingly it didn't bother Harry overly much that he wasn't privy to what they were talking about. It was strange but there was no burst of indignation or anger to being excluded. He had been so angry before and during his fifth year, when everyone was keeping secrets about things that concerned him far more than anyone else. But now he stood by and waited for the men to finish their talk, not sure if it was even about him or something else entirely. And not entirely sure why he actually trusted Estel to tell him about it, if it was important. This unexpected trust, more than the fact that they might be discussing something without him, bothered him. He wasn't sure if he should be trusting anyone right now. Even if it was just with not being kept in the dark.
A swift knock and quickly followed entrance of the innkeeper dispelled his thoughts.
Though he could not understand the man's words, he could divine from his manner that it was some sort of inquiry, perhaps asking if they needed anything else.
Estel answered the man and the bartender nodded and uttered something else in reply.
Estel turned back to the other men, and the innkeeper towards the door. But he apparently changed his mind at the last second, because instead of leaving he turned his attention to Harry, who had been quietly observing the exchange. The man gave him another look, one the boy couldn't seem to interpret.
The bartender glanced quickly at the huddle of men and looked back at Harry again, quietly asking him something.
What he had been asked he didn't know. But he was glad that Estel had apparently noticed the interaction despite the innkeeper's (poor) attempt to have a private word with him. Estel intervened before Harry would have had to answer and said something to the man that made him leave.
Harry sighed with relief, figuring that the fact he couldn't speak the language would give him away just as fast as revealing his ears.
Estel said a few more words in the direction of the other men before he laid his hand on Harry's shoulder; "Come, let us see if we can find you an attire better fitting. Thurston will accompany us while Halbarad and Dunnere gather the other needed supplies."
Not too long after that, Harry was being led down the street by Estel again, Thurston walking a little before them. He wasn't a hundred percent sure about where they were going, but Estel's earlier remark about finding him a better fitting attire made him believe that they were probably trying to find him some less oversized clothes.
The suspicious looks send their way had not lessened, but after the initial shock he managed to shake it off and ignore it to some extend. It was uncomfortably reminiscent of his second and fourth year and yet somehow different… after a while it became clear to Harry that in this case it was not just him that everyone was looking at. The glares and fearful, suspicious glances were mostly directed to his companions. Harry himself was treated to curious and almost pitying looks instead.
'They don't like them.' it soon enough become blindingly clear to him. 'But why?' he wondered.
He was reminded of the looks the innkeeper had sent him, and how he had tried to talk to Harry. The look that might have contained concern, it dawned on him.
Did these people think he was in trouble? That Thurston, Estel and the others would harm him, or had kidnapped him or something? The idea seemed somewhat ridiculous. Sure he had been very cautious and hesitant of the men at first. But that had lessened after having spent a few days with them and now he actually felt rather sure they wouldn't hurt him.
He still was somewhat uncertain of wherever it was they were taking him. And he didn't want to make himself more vulnerable to them than he already was by telling them his name and answering their other questions.
But still.
He didn't think they would actually hurt him.
Thurston, Halbarad, Dunnere and now Estel had already had every opportunity to harm him if they wanted to. Instead they had proven to be kind, warm and patient men.
They might look a little rough around the edges and they hadn't exactly told him anything about themselves either, but despite Harry's reluctance and independent mentality he found himself actually starting to trust these men.
They didn't have to help him but they did. They didn't gain anything from being kind to him but they had.
So why was everyone treating them like that? Was that because of him?
The thought made him feel guilty for the moment it took for him to discard that thought.
'No,' he told himself 'that wouldn't make sense. Estel, Thurston, Halbarad, Dunnere, they are all acting like this is normal behaviour.' He noticed how the men ignored the stares and whispers as if they were used to it. Like Harry should be used to it by now. And he was, almost. It had just caught him off guard after the quiet company of these men out in the open. Not to mention how the childish feelings that rose inside him only made it seem worse.
In fact, it was those some childish urges and feelings that he blamed for what happened next.
It had happened rather fast; a young woman awkwardly holding a package, looking down at it as she tried to get a better grip and unknowingly walking straight into the path of a large man moving quickly on his way. The collision seemed inevitable and the woman and package both fell to the ground. The man, apparently either too busy or uncaring to help moved on and it was Thurston who first came upon her and picked up her package before helping her to her feet.
The look of fearful distrust that the woman aimed at Thurston when the man returned the package to her was not unfamiliar to Harry. He had seen it shot his way often enough: when people thought he was the Heir of Slytherin or after the Minister had denied Voldemort's return and he was thought to be either crazy or a liar. But he could see no reason for such a look to be sent Thurston's way. And it bothered him. Though Halbarad had been the first man to speak to Harry in this world, it had been Thurston whose patience and kindness had managed to spark the first beginnings of trust within him.
The woman spoke, and while he could not understand the words, he could discern the fear-laced scorn that lay contained in them.
And although, moments later, Thurston turned away from the scene as if it didn't bother him at all, as if what had happened was of no importance whatsoever, it still bothered Harry a lot. He knew how much things like that could hurt.
Without any further thoughts or considerations he quickly removed his hand from Estel's larger one, managing to slip away due to the unexpectedness of such an action, and moved the few paces forward to Thurston.
The childish feelings inside of him united themselves with a compassion that was purely Harry's and so he didn't even hesitate as he let his small arms circle around the tall, grim-faced man's waist.
Thurston blinked.
For a moment he was completely caught of guard.
When the shock had passed a warm smile started to spread across his weathered face, one usually reserved for the moments he spend with his own children.
He gently put his arms around the child. He was not sure how the boy could tell that the interaction had saddened him. Especially since the child could not even understand their language.
But he could see the compassion in the boy's eyes when he was finally released from the boy's hold and the elfling looked up at him.
They looked at each other for a long moment, the child searching the man's eyes for a sign if he was truly alright. The man taking comfort in the sweet, gentle compassion of the boy he could find in the child's eyes. So different from the scorn, distrust and thankless reactions of the people he endeavoured to save.
It was Aragorn who broke them from their state with a gentle hand on Thurston's shoulder. "Let us continue, my friend." his Captain said gently and he nodded in reply.
"Thank you, little one." He said softly to the elfling, holding out his hand for the child to take.
The trust in the boy's eyes when he took it was one of the most heartening sights he had seen in his life.
A.N: Yeah, my daily chapters are now but a fond memory.
I don't have the time to post every day, or every other day anymore. But I will update whenever I have the time. And don't worry too much. I definitely want to keep up with this story. And hey, as long as there are two or more chapters a week, that's still pretty good, right?
I'm still not sure where this story will go, I had actually planned not to make it too long (since I suck at those long multi-chaptered stores… that way leads to poor abandoned stories) but now I'm not sure if the ending I had vaguely planned will actually do or leave to much open.
Maybe I could finish it there and later do a sequel… hmm… too early still to think about such things anyways. .
For now the story will lead and I shall bravely follow.
And I hope that you all will keep following along!
Maria