Title: Strange Connections
Author: CrimsonSnowflake
Warning: Nothing to be scared of here.
Beta: Hazel-3017
A/N:So...it's been a while, hasn't it? I have to be honest and say I struggled immensely with writing this chapter, no matter what I did it just didn't seem right. Luckily, I finally managed to produce a chapter that I thought worthy of your eyes! :D
Hope you enjoy, and please leave a review and tell me your opinion! :)
Chapter 13
Revelations
"Did you know?" Harry whispered hoarsely, voice bitter as his body slouched forward in defeat and his clenched fists moved to rest heavily on his thighs. "Did you know this would happen?"
His torso was bare, the shirt that he had been wearing lying abandoned at his feet, the heap of fabric seeming to have caved in on itself. The pale skin on Harry's back seemed to glow in the dimly lit room, making the dark marks marring his flesh stand out even more to his mortification. Whispers of moving fabric reached his ears as Galadriel shifted where she stood at the far end of the room, and light footsteps—so quiet that Harry could hardly hear them—brought her closer until she was standing right behind him. Slender fingers reached up to lightly run along one of his marks, gently tracing and exploring its outline.
"No, I did not know," Galadriel replied, her blue eyes fixed intensely on Harry's back. "In fact, in all my life I have never seen anything like it."
"So you have no idea what it is, then?" Harry questioned, resisting the urge to lean forward and away from the elf's hand.
"I wouldn't say that. I have some inkling as to what it might be, but I can't say anything for certain." Gracefully, she moved towards a soft-looking couch, taking a seat before continuing. "Nonetheless, I should like to ask how many marks you have, Harry?"
"Nine. Why?" He said slowly, drawing out the words in suspicion.
"Do you not think it odd that it would be that exact number?" she questioned, a knowing glint shining brightly in her eyes, "considering your connection with the nine ringwraiths, I mean."
"What?" Harry scoffed. "You think that this is somehow related to them? I've only encountered them once, and that does not mean I have a connection with them."
"Have you forgotten what you saw in the mirror so soon, Harry?" Galadriel moved around to cup his face, gazing imploringly into his eyes. "Have you never wondered why you understand their language? Have you never questioned how they managed to find you so easily when you are in a place as protected as this? And now you bear nine marks on your body, such a specific number. They are connected to you, Harry, and you to them. There is no denying it."
"If what you're saying is true, what does that mean? What do they want with me?" Harry swallowed thickly.
"I do not know," the elf said quietly. "It could be connected to you originating from another world; it could be because of your magic. Truthfully, they could be after you for a number of reasons and unfortunately I am not privy to any of them."
Harry exhaled loudly, rising from his seat before moving to pace the room restlessly. Frustrated, he reached up to card a hand through his hair, the silky strands easily slipping between his fingers. Things had turned impossibly complicated. Not only did Harry have to deal with building up his magic from scratch, but also the possibility that it might, in fact, be linked with the Nazgul. Did that mean the connection would grow stronger as Harry mastered control of his magic?
"What should I do, then?" Harry turned to look at Galadriel with desperate green eyes, "I mean, this connection, or whatever it is, could put us all in danger. What if the Nazgul somehow manage to gain access to my mind like they did my vision? They would know our location. They would know where to find the Ring!"
"You would have to keep away from the Fellowship until you have learned to close off your mind from them," Galadriel stated, her blue eyes eyeing Harry seriously. "When they leave this realm you will have to stay behind."
"You would have me abandon them?" Harry murmured throatily, "you would have me abandon Frodo? After I promised him we would see this through together?"
"It is your only option, I'm afraid."
Harry could feel an all too familiar burning building behind his eyes as he trudged his way back to camp with heavy footsteps. The tears were nearly overpowering in their insistency. He had been crying far too much for his comfort lately; his emotions were erratic and nearly uncontrollable. Harry hadn't been himself for a long time, not since Gandalf had fallen in the darkness of Moria, and it was beginning to wear him down.
His soul was stretched thin, barely staying together, and recent events, both regarding his magic and the Nazgul had taken its toll. And now he was faced with another painful dilemma: leave Frodo to deal with the Ring on his own or be the cause of his death. There was no doubt in his mind as to what he had to do. He would do anything to keep Frodo alive, and leaving the Fellowship was a small sacrifice to make if it meant Frodo would stay safe—or rather, as safe as he could be when he was at the very centre of a war.
The familiar feel of William slithering up his body caught his attention, the smooth scales rubbing comfortingly against his skin as the snake moved to settle around his neck. He had begun wondering where his friend had gotten to; it had been days since he had last seen him. Suffice to say, William's dry wit and reassuring presence had been greatly missed.
"It's been a while, William," Harry murmured, reaching up to run his fingers along the dark scales on the snake's broad head, smiling when William leaned into his touch.
"Too long, it seems," William replied, his tongue flicking out to taste the air, lightly hitting the skin of Harry's neck, "you taste different."
"Do I?" Harry questioned, silently wondering at the sudden calm that had come over him—that always seemed to wash over him in William's presence.
"Yes, very much so," The snake leaned close to get another taste, "You taste of something darker, as if you are not yourself. Has something occurred in my absence?"
"Things have taken a turn for the worse," Harry responded ashe slowed his pace as they neared their destination, "and as a result we will not be leaving with the Fellowship."
"Where will we be going, then?" William questioned, seeming to take the new turn of events in stride, as he always did.
"Nowhere, we will be staying here. Lady Galadriel has generously offered to continue teaching me magic, and I have decided to take her up on the offer."
"A wise choice," William concluded, shifting slightly to loosen his grip on Harry's neck before he continued, "though I can't help but to question whether or not you'll be able to go through with it. I know how fond you are of these bumbling idiots you choose to call friends, but are you certain you are, in fact, capable of watching as they leave you behind?"
"I have no other option; if I leave with them they are as good as dead."
Dawn had snuck upon them by the time they reached the campsite, chasing away the darkness and replacing it with the bright rays of the sun. The dark sky turned a bright blue, bereft of any clouds and promising a beautiful day. For a moment, Harry was surprised, realising that he had spent the entire night trying to figure out this new mess he found himself in.
"When will you tell them?" William questioned as the distinct sounds of the Fellowship moving about reached them.
"As soon as I know what to say," Harry replied.
"Not for a while then," a hissing laugh escaped the snake, trailing off as they stepped into camp.
"I will tell them soon enough." Green eyes flashed in irritation at William. "I do not wish to ruin their last opportunity to rest and be carefree with my worries."
"I hope you realise how much of a fool you are," William stated casually, teasingly caressing Harry's neck with his tail.
"How so?" Harry questioned, tense, as they walked into the camp.
"Do you not think it better to be honest about your plans? To give them time to adjust to the prospect of going on without you? Do you not think that Frodo deserves to hear of this before the very day they leave?" Ignoring the surprised looks sent his way by the Fellowship, William continued, softening his tone, "Do you not think telling them now would be kinder to yourself in the long run?"
A smug smile seemed to be painted on the snake's features—or as close to it as a snake could get—when Harry remained silent, unable to come up with a sensible retort. Shifting from his place around Harry's neck to wrap around the wizard's right arm, William continued, "I think you know just as well as I, Harry, that there is only one rational course of action to be taken in this situation. You have to tell them tonight."
"If I didn't know better, William," Harry said, smiling fondly down at the snake, "I'd say you've grown to care for the bumbling idiots that are my friends."
With a sharp hiss, William slithered down Harry's body, only stopping by the wizard's feet to shoot back a quick retort before disappearing into the forest. "It is a good thing you know better then."
"Well that is a soul I have not seen in quite some time," Boromir murmured as he moved to join Harry, pressing his broad back against a tree before sliding down to sit on the ground, "where has he been spending his time?"
"I wouldn't know, he has been exploring the forest I suppose," Harry replied, following the man's example and taking a seat himself. "Probably scouring it for meals, I'm telling you, one of these days he's going to grow so large that I am sure I can barely carry him."
"It would make for an intimidating sight; I have never been particularly fond of serpentines and especially not large ones," Boromir admitted, lowering his voice as he leaned towards Harry. "To be honest with you I do not believe I have ever met a snake as grumpy and volatile as your William."
"I can assure you," Harry smiled, green eyes twinkling, "neither have I."
A deep, rolling laughter escaped the man's chest, shaking his entire body and drawing the attention of the rest of their company. By the time Boromir had managed to compose himself the others had joined them, Frodo moving to take a seat close by Harry, gently grabbing the wizard's hand in order to cradle it in his own.
"You disappeared on us last evening," Aragorn's deep voice dragged the conversation from its lull, "did something happen? I would have expected you to return for the night."
Taking a deep breath, Harry steeled his nerves, "Actually, there is something I have to tell you, something I discovered last night."
"Go on," Frodo encouraged him with an assuring squeeze to his hand.
"It would appear that I am connected to the Nazgul. I have no idea why or how, but Lady Galadriel seems to think it has something to do with these marks." He pulled up the sleeve of his shirt, revealing the dark scorch marks marring his skin. "Based on the fact that the Nazgul managed to gain access to my mind when I looked into the lady's mirror, we suspect this connection to be of a mental nature, and I am afraid that if I allow this to continue unchecked, the connection will grow stronger and they will gain an unlimited access to me. They will know our location and learn our plans for the Ring."
A tense silence enveloped them as his friends stared at him in disbelief and no small degree of shock. Swallowing the large lump that had grown in his throat, Harry continued, "Because of this I have no option but to stay behind when you leave."
"What? No!" Frodo cried out, tightening his grip on Harry's hand as he broke free of his stupor. "You can't leave us! I don't care that you have this connection to the Ringwraiths, you are a part of this company; we can't just leave you behind!"
"Yeah!" the other hobbits echoed his sentiments, ever the loyal creatures.
"You have to," Harry insisted, uncomfortably aware that the others remained completely silent, "I won't have you die just because I am too selfish to leave you! And that is what will happen, Frodo, if I stay with you. They will pick and prod at my mind until they have an opening, and once they do they will hunt us down and kill each and every one of us."
"Harry is right," Aragorn finally spoke up, his eyes narrowed in contemplation, "he has to stay behind. We can't afford the risk of him coming with us."
"As much as it pains me to say it, the lad is right," Gimli agreed, "it would be safest for all of us. We would not have to worry about being discovered and Harry would be under the protection of the lovely Lady Galadriel."
"No," Frodo whispered dejectedly, his eyes downcast, "you promised, Harry."
"I know," Harry reached out to cradle the hobbit's soft face, gently caressing his cheek with soft strokes of his thumb, "but I would rather break my promise to you than be the cause of your death. Do not argue with me on this, Frodo, I beg of you. I will not relent."
The hobbit gritted his teeth, jaw clenching as he finally gave a short, almost static nod. Sighing in relief, Harry released his hold on Frodo, turning to face the rest of the Fellowship. In a short moment of foolishness, Harry had almost expected them to look upon him with disgust or perhaps in anger at the fact that he had let the Nazgul get a hold of him so easily. His second year at Hogwarts had taught him to be wary of the judgement of others, but there was no sign of any disgust or anger on their faces.
"Then it is decided," Aragorn once again took the lead, "Harry will be staying here when we leave."
Harry closed his eyes in a mixture of relief and sadness, allowing his head to flop back to rest against the tree trunk behind him. Telling them had gone much more smoothly than he had expected and while the thought of leaving them—Frodo in particular—pained him, the knowledge that he was doing it for their protection acted as a balm to soothe him.
"Well," Boromir said as he rose from his seat, a small, hesitant smile on his face, "I do believe we could all do with some food. Harry, would you be so kind as to assist me in preparing breakfast?"
"Of course," Harry immediately replied, grateful to the man for having enough insight to change the subject.
With a quiet grunt, Harry pushed himself to his feet, joining Boromir by the newly made fire. Soon enough the air filled with the mouth-watering scent of tomatoes and sausages sizzling hotly in the pan as Harry sliced up some bread, evenly distributing it between the members of the Fellowship. The tension that had settled over the company was quickly chased away by a feeling of content, and Harry allowed himself to relax, secure in the knowledge that their previous conversation would not be brought up again.
"So," Cìldan's pleasant voice rang in his ears, stealing his attention from where he had been watching the hobbits practice their sword fighting, "I hear you will be gracing us with your presence longer than originally planned."
"You sound awfully pleased," Harry replied, turning back to watch the training, wincing when Merry hit Pippin over the knuckles with his wooden sword. An outraged cry tore out of the hobbit's throat as he jumped his cousin, retaliating with vigour.
"Of course I am pleased, I get to keep you all to myself now," the elf smiled, his blue eyes twinkling merrily, "you can even come live with me in my telain."
"I don't know why you are so excited," Harry offhandedly commented, "I could just as well find myself another elf to cosy up with."
"Ah, but you could never find another elf with my devastatingly good looks and charming wit," Cìldan quickly retorted.
"Nor one so full of himself," Harry laughed, swiping away a strand of hair that had been blown into his face.
"But truthfully, Harry," the elf's eyes darkened as he turned to fully face the young wizard, "I will do my utmost to make you feel at home here."
"I know you will, Cìldan," he replied, "and I am grateful to you for it, but I would rather not plan for their departure just yet."
"And you shouldn't," the elf was quick to reply, "I am just telling you, that you are not alone and you never will be, so long as I can help it."
"If I didn't know any better," Harry said, seeking to change the subject, cloaking his discomfort with a sly smile, "I'd say there's a touch of devotion in your voice. Are you planning to woo me, Cìldan?"
"I would never dare," Cìldan grinned cheekily, "the prospect of facing Gimli's wrath should I sully you is too risky, even for me."
"Well," Harry laughed, "that is truly a comfort to know. I can only hope this fear of yours will linger even when they leave."
"How you wound me, my dear friend!" The elf cried out, rising dramatically to his feet in mock outrage. "I'll have you know that I am very sought after, any elf, man or wizard would be lucky to have my attention and affection."
"I'm sure you are, Cìldan, but I am afraid your charms fall short with me."
"Alas," the elf continued on in the same dramatic manner, "I fear I have lost you to another."
"Don't go there, Cìldan," Harry sharply cut in before the blond could elaborate, "I am perfectly aware of your thoughts, of your hopes in regards to my relationship with Legolas. And I am telling you, as I have done several times, it is not to be."
"But if you would just give it a try," Cìldan continued to press, "I am absolutely certain something good could come of it. I have seen the way he looks at you, even if you do not; his eyes hold affection for you."
"You would have me try, and then what?" Aggravated, Harry rose to his feet, green eyes blazing with emotion as they latched onto the elf. "It would never work and whatever affection you may have imagined in him does not exist, I am far from worthy of his attentions, of the attentions of a prince, and he is just as aware of that as I am, I can assure you. Legolas is destined to marry a lovely elf maiden, not some lowly wizard who can barely control his own magic."
"It pains me that you think so little of yourself, my friend," Cìldan replied sadly, "not a single soul could be more worthy than you are. In fact, it is Legolas who has to prove himself worthy of your affections."
Sighing in frustration, Harry roughly ran his hand through his thick hair. "The fact still remains that neither I nor Legolas hold any feelings for each other that goes beyond friendship."
"Really? So you are saying that your moment with him on the dance floor never happened?" the elf retorted, determined to pursue the subject, refusing to relent. "For the Valar's sake, Harry! You could barely make yourself leave his arms that night."
"So what? What do you want from me, Cìldan?" Harry shouted back hoarsely, "would you like me to say that I do hold feelings for him? Would you like me to fool myself into believing that he returns said feelings? No! I will not allow myself to pursue something that would only lead to hurt and heartbreak in the end."
Preparing to storm away and swiftly put an end to their conversation, Harry shot out, "You need to drop this, Cìldan. I'm serious, the topic has grown tiresome and I swear if you bring it up again I shall not be held accountable for my actions!"
TBC