Chapter 11 - On the Road

They had stayed the night in Bree and Harry was grateful for the delicious meals, the change of sleeping in a real bed and receiving his very own (rather small) pack with a waterskin and some food in it. Their little mission of finding some better fitting clothes had been a partial success; they had found no shoes or boots to fit him, so barefooted he remained. (Not that it bothered him overly much, since they spent most of the days riding.) They had, however found him a green shirt that was almost his size and some brown trousers that fit him well enough around the waist but was a few inches short.

He was happy with the new clothes that Estel had bought him and had taken a moment of privacy in one of their rooms to change into them. He hadn't wanted to return Halbarad's shirt, so instead giving it back to the man or leaving it lying on the bed he had stuffed it into his pack, his only other belonging; the white sea shell safely hidden between the folds.

The man had never asked, or had Estel ask, to have it back.

He still wore Thurston's cloak, having come to like the familiar garment despite the fact that it was far too big for him and that he didn't really need it to stay warm. Most of the time he wore it with the hood over his head, even after leaving Bree, just in case they came across someone on the road.

Despite the meals and the bed, Harry was very relieved when they had left the village behind them shortly after dawn. The people there had watched them all the time and though he tried to ignore it as best he could, he was glad that it was behind them now.

Harry wondered again about where they were travelling to. Would the people there react to them in the same way? Would they, too, look at him with pity in their eyes, and at his friends with scorn and distrust?

He blinked. His friends. He had never thought of Thurston, Halbarad, Dunnere and Estel as his friends before. But they sort of were, weren't they? At first he had just thought of them as the people he was travelling with, but now… it had been them, together, against the people of Bree and now… They were his friends.

He smiled, feeling childishly happy at the thought.

Aragorn observed the elfling happily 'sword-fighting' with Halbarad, with a gentle smile on his face.

He had been worried that the little one would become more fearful of them because of the suspicions of the Bree-folk, but instead it seemed that their young charge was finally relaxing a bit more in their presence. The child still spoke little and would not confide in him what had happened that caused the child to be so far from elven settlements and all by himself. But the small elf was getting more comfortable around them, he could tell, and it greatly gladdened him to see the little one trusting them enough to relax his guard a bit.

The boy giggled when Halbarad dramatically gasped and fell to the earth after having allowed the child a 'fatal wound' with his long stick. The man lay there motionless, with his eyes closed. When the elfling carefully approached him he suddenly sprung up, reaching out to grab the surprised child. But the little one's elven reflexes were too fast and the boy dodged, running from his second in command with delighted laughter. Aragorn found himself chuckling too, at the sight of the child's carefree playing and the beautiful sound that warmed his heart.

Their journey took them, swiftly and safely, over the Great East Road.

So far there had been no signs of trouble and Thurston prayed that it would last. There was little trouble that four Rangers could not handle, but with a young charge to protect… There was much more at risk.

Not to mention, how would the child react if it would come to battle? One of such youth and innocence should not be exposed to such things, he felt. Especially since he believed the child had already gone through too much.

The elfling was finally getting over his distrust of them, was finally letting his guard down around them just a little bit. He did not want the boy to regain the withdrawn, distrustful attitude of before.

Now that they had passed Weathertop and were nearing the Last Bridge, the safety of the Road was less certain and one of them had started scouting ahead, on occasion, making sure that there was nothing dangerous on their way.

Harry had noticed how, in the last two days, the men he travelled with were becoming more cautious. They had always been watchful, but their cautious air had increased and Harry found himself loosing the carefree, happy cheerfulness of the previous days and reverting to the quiet, watchful wizard he had grown up to be.

He was not sure what dangers this world held, exactly. 'No death eaters, that's for sure', he thought with an amused smile. But Harry knew there must be some danger, there always was, and from the looks of his friends and the way one of them kept scouting ahead of them (currently that was Halbarad) the danger could very possibly be hanging out somewhere around here.

'But what could it be?' he wondered 'wolves, maybe? Or thieves?'. It bothered him, whatever it was. Not just because of the fact that it remained unknown to him (it's better to know what you're facing) but also because he was completely helpless. He had no wand, no weapons and no real fighting abilities. Sure if they were attacked, he would certainly give it everything he had but… but unfortunately in this child's body that 'everything' wasn't very much.

So anxiously he watched and waited, hoping that for once. For once, his bad luck wouldn't draw every possible danger towards them like a magnet.

Their journey continued without anything happening. No wolves, thieves or God knows what else might be lurking in this world. Still, Harry wasn't about to write it off as nothing. His friends were still somewhat tense and cautious and they knew this world far better than he did.

They crossed what Estel told him was called 'The Last Bridge'. It sounded somewhat ominous to him, both because of the way the others still seemed expectant of danger (meaning that it might be the last bridge they would ever cross) and because it brought to mind that they might be nearing the end of their journey. And now that he had found friends in this world he didn't want them to leave him behind in some Bree-like settlement with everyone watching him and… 'Let's not think of that, right now.' he told himself firmly. 'Besides, with my luck we might not even make it to this Imladris, alive, anyway.'

He let an amused smile cross his face and longingly thought about how Ron and Hermione would react to that joke. Ron would think it was funny and Hermione would scold them both for making light of something that could get them killed.

He looked up at Estel, who he was now riding with, and vaguely wondered how his new friends would take to his strange sense of humour. He wasn't as close to these men as with Ron and Hermione, of course, but it was nice to have someone by his side in a strange, unknown world like this.

Perhaps his luck wasn't all bad.

He imagined there were far, far worse people or creatures he might have come across as his 'first contact' with this new world.

The only signs of the days passing were found in the shift in who Harry rode with, currently Thurston again, and in the change of scenery around them.

After crossing the bridge they had come to a forested area; broad, tall trees covered the ground on either side of the road and Harry noticed how Estel and Halbarad's hands often strayed to their swords when a sound of any kind was heard.

Their first two days in these woods had been spent in watchful, wary silence and Harry found himself becoming increasingly nervous about the woods surrounding them and the dangers that might be concealed by the trees.

When Harry heard a soft, almost indistinguishable sound he knew immediately that his infamous trouble attracting abilities had kicked in once more. He still wasn't sure what sort of danger the others were so wary of but he knew that it had just come out to play.

He grasped Thurston's sleeve and tugged, quietly drawing the man's attention. He unobtrusively pointed to the direction from where he had heard the almost inaudible sound.

The man quietly conveyed the message to the other men (or so Harry assumed in any case) and apparently it was possible for them to become even more watchful and tense. Dunnere moved his horse in front of Thurston's, a bow and arrow and his hands, ready to notch it and shoot at the first sign of trouble. Estel and Halbarad were directly in front of the direction Harry could even now hear the slightest whisper of movement from, their swords unsheathed and ready in their hands.

A.N: A very short and uneventful chapter, but I needed some sort of 'travelling' chapter to get them from point A to B…

To Melody-chii and anyone else who wondered about when exactly this story takes place;

It is pre-LotR, taking place somewhere between 2951 and 2957 or so. So before Aragorn goes to Rohan and Gonder to do his Thorongil thing and before Bilbo's birthday party in 3001. If I got the timeline right, that is…

To Meggplant, lowie and kokosek; (unsigned reviewers) many thanks for your reviews! I'm glad to hear you're liking the story so far. ^-^

To FLaTone (who has PM turned off); I'm sorry that you don't like Harry's childishness. I can understand how the fact that someone who has been independent and taking care of himself for his entire life suddenly acting like a child is a bit off-putting. But I didn't think I gave the impression that he is now someone who 'loves to be coddled with no self-dependent traits at all'. The only time he sought comfort with anyone was when Estel was holding his hand in Bree and everyone was staring at him, and even then it was an unconscious action that he didn't even notice himself. The time he hugged Thurston was from compassion, not seeking comfort.
You are very right in that Harry Potter isn't someone who would easily seek comfort from anyone. He is far to used to taking care of himself and the crying fit when he had lost the Rangers in the woods was also very out of character for him. But that is because in my story he is sort of 'reborn' into this world as an elven child. He is still seventeen, of course, and he still remembers everything that had happened, but he also has the childish feelings, reactions and 'urges' for lack of better word, that come with being a child. I'm trying to find a balance between those two sides of him.
I hope you can still enjoy the rest of the story with this characterization and if not, there is little I can do about it. Still, many thanks for the review and letting me know your opinion on the story.