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He made one last stop before he left again. He had wanted to warn Saradoc that it might be several years before he came to visit, and also to tell him that if he was in dire need, any Ranger would be able to find him. He had also wanted to see the tiny Merry, who was only two months old, but Harry was sure he must be the smartest hobbit child ever to grace Brandy Hall. This was based on the fact that he screamed every time his father tried to take him away from his Uncle Harry.

It was on his way home that he had made another friend. A young man was sitting in a wagon, shouting and whipping the horse in front of him, who was straining to pull. The stupid man did not seem to realize that the wheel of said wagon was broken, and laying at an odd angle. Harry wondered what was wrong with him, for no sane man would abuse his horse in such a way.

"Ho there. Might I be of help?" As he reached him, Harry could smell the foul fumes wafting from him. The specimen in front of him was small and mean faced, with unkempt hair and yellow teeth.

"What's your business?" The man went back to lifting his whip. Harry, being a kind man at heart, regardless of what others thought due to his having fun with others, would not stand to see the horse beaten again. He raised his staff and held it above the beast's back. The whip wrapped itself around the wood, and Harry yanked the whip and staff towards himself. Being thoroughly drunk, the man lost his balance and fell heavily from his seat.

"How much have you drunk?" Harry asked.

"Only a tiddle. Damn father left me a damn horse after he passed on. What good's a horse gonna be to me? So I was just having a tiddle before I took it to the farm -gonna get me four gold coin for it. That be more than I make watching the gate! And what of it, 'a? None of your damn business." He was a belligerent drunk.

"Do you have any other horses?" Whilst the man had been talking, Harry had been examining her. She had only a few new scars, but with a bit of care she would be fine. However, she had also recently given birth - there was no excuse for her to be pulling the wagon! She was seventeen hands high, with a long neck, and was short in the back with an upright posture. Her chest and legs were thick and strong, and her dark grey coat gave way to thick white feathers around her hooves. When he asked her to lift her foot, she did so without complaint or hesitation, and Harry could see that she needed new shoes - her feet were as large as dinner plates. She might have been the biggest horse he had ever seen - even the Rohan's horses were not so heavy! Then again, those horses were made for running long distances, and bravery in battle, not hauling loads and working farms. Elf horses were light footed, with swift, sure strides, again not for heavy physical work.

"Just the colt - even more worthless. Can't put no weight on him for another year." He grumbled in a slurred speech.

"Ten gold coins for them both, and the cart for another two." They would be prefect for his coming work. He thought it just might be his third most brilliant idea, right next to putting a duck in the bath house.

"Huh?" What an intelligent response. This man was either the stupidest man alive, or the drunkest... Or a combination of the two. Either way, he felt no sorrow or guilt in cheating him. She alone, at peak health, would be worth fifteen gold coins, let alone adding a male (gelded or not) into the deal. From his examinations of the mother, he guessed that the colt could only be two months old. The man was an idiot, and had no business with a fish as a pet, let alone such a fine horse.

"Nine gold coins for both horses, and another two for the wagon. That is more than you are going to get for her - the farmer won't take her as she should not be working for another four months at least." The 'you idiot' part he left unsaid. "And tell me your name." He ordered.

"Bill Ferney, West gate keeper. No I'll take twelve coins now and keep the wagon. You get only the mare." This was Bill's reply.

"Six coins for them both now, and I don't use the whip on you. You can keep the cart." He didn't really need a second one, after all.

"Eight for them both." Bill said "and I will let you keep your purse."

"Done." Harry gave him no more time to correct himself. He reached up, grabbed the back of his sweaty tunic and ripped him from the wagon. Then, he picked up the whip and called out to the boy watching from around the corner.

"Child, do come here." he called. The boy was filthy. His face was dirty and his cheek had a small cut on it. "Did you hear our conversation? Eight coins for his horses?"

"Yes sir. I did." he said.

"Come here please. I have a small favor for you to do for me. In return, I will buy you a small treat, and will be back in no more than two hours. Watch the horse, and if anyone comes and bothers you or her, come for me. We will be in the inn over there." The boy looked awfully afraid, more than he should have been.

Letting go of Bill, he gave the man a good look, obviously telling him not to move. "Do. Not. Move." He ground out, very slowly. Bill was probably too stupid to understand an unspoken command.

He walked over to the child. The boy was only around eight or so, and the cut on his face came from falling onto some object. It was his posture that caught Harry's attention. With the gentlest touch he turned him around; the back of his coat was sliced open, as was his shirt underneath. There were small droplets of blood seeping through, but it was not life threatening. It was not dissimilar to the marks boys get from playing war with sticks. However, play would not rip his coat and shirt. After a moment of thought, he looked back at the marks on the mare.

"Bill did this, did he not?" The boy said nothing in return.

"Is he your father?" If that was the case there was not much he could do but find him an apprenticeship somewhere.

"No, but he bothers my widowed mam... She works real hard as a seamstress, and he has no business messing with her. I came to tell him so, and I saw him being awful mean to the horse, and I told him to stop. Will you hurt him if he messes with the horse again?" The boy's eyes got a nearly bloodthirsty look in them. Harry could see the boy jumping on Bill if given half a chance. He would not expect a stranger to fight for his mother, but a stranger would fight for the horse he had just bought.

"Well, I do not care much for violence so unless he does something I will have to leave him alone." Harry gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Watch the horse and I will bring you a treat, I might need you to stand witness if he tries to swindle me." The boy looked at Bill then at him. Harry felt himself being sized up. While he was not a large man, he was strong from many long hours in a forge and years of walking.

"I'd like to see that." Then crawled up into the cart and gave Bill a nasty look. The boy had a brain.

"Come on Bill, my new friend. Let us go into the inn and have this witnessed. You seem just the type to keep this on the legal side." Judging from the boys laugh, however, Bill was not.

The inn did not have much of a crowd, but then again it was the middle of the day. The inn-keeper was a man named Tom, and his with him was his son named Thomas. His Grandfather, who had also run the Ivy Flower Inn, had been named Thomas, and he had inherited the inn from his father, who was called Tom. The people liked their traditions, and the Ivy Flower Inn had always, and would always be run by a Tom who could be described as a hardworking and jovial fellow.

Old Tom sat at the bar, looking over the books. He was a rather large man, whose large amount of muscle had been replaced by fat, with jowls and red cheeks. His son had not yet had the unfortunate effect of ageing, he was a little round in the middle, but nowhere near as soft as his father.

"Bill what did you do this time? He looks ready to string you up." Old Tom asked.

"We are here in need of witness over a business deal. This good man here," Harry explained, slapping him strongly on the back. "Is going to sell me both of his horses for eight gold coin."

"Eight?" Young Thomas asked. He must not have been very sharp, but Old Tom interrupted him.

"Yes eight coins sounds just the thing for Bill." Harry thought he must have stumbled on the most disliked man in all of Bree. Young Thomas was sent off to the office to get papers and brought back a hobbit with him. "Bob said he would witness. That way, if Bill here says something else, it isn't just me and the Padders against him."

When everything was written out Harry opened his purse and counted the coins. He held them in his hand for a moment, waiting for it all to be signed and sealed. Then laid it on the table, and after hands were shook he lifted his hand off the coins. He held on to Bill's hand and gave him a hard look. He wasn't very good at them but he tried. He was meant for laughing - the best he could do was stare into another's eyes, unless he put a little power into it. Harry thought it might be a bit much for this situation. So he just squeezed his hand hard, being a smith it was rather firm.

"Now, the way I see it, you owe that boy out there a new shirt and coat." Harry slid a coin back to himself. When Bill began to protest, he gave the man's hand another tight squeeze. "I would also think that the only reason why you would be bothering a seamstress was for a new shirt." He slid another coin out of the pile. "Plus, you also owe that boy a tip for watching your horse while we made the transaction." Harry took a third coin, and then looked over at the Tom's. Neither seemed all that upset about the turn of events. He released Bill's hand, and stood to face the Tom's.

"Tom why not come with me, to make sure I get my horses, two might be hard to deal with on my own." Harry said to the younger. "Tom," he turned to address the senior "do you think your hobbit would walk the boy home and pass on the message Bill's shirt should be here by this day next week? It would not do for a good widow to be accused of taking advantage of Bill's good nature." He gave Bill another pat on the shoulder just for fun, sending him back into his chair.

"That would be widow Lilly? Fine woman she is, fine woman indeed." Young Tom said. The look in his eye made Harry think he might just look out for the boy and widow on his own. Old Tom gave him a very large smile. "Glad to do business with you, mighty glad indeed."

"Well, as I need to take care of my new purchase, how about a few nights and two stalls?" Harry asked, while keeping a firm grip on Bill's shoulder.

"For a good business man such as yourself I will be more than happy to put up your horse, you just need to take care of the feed." Old Tom said.

The boy was just where he had left him. Tom took him down and gave him a good look over. Then he began unhooking the harness from the wagon and led her back up the inn. The boy simply followed along with them. He gave a call for the hobbit Bob who came at a quick clip.

"Bob, got a job for you. Take little Mr. Whistledown to his mother tell that Bill will be needing a shirt delivered here by this day next week." He then turned to the boy. "Our new and good friend says this is payment for the shirt." He then passed the coins into the boy's hands. The boy looked at the coins in awe then at Harry.

"Thank you ever so much, sir. My mam will be ever so grateful if you need a new shirt or coat I am sure my mam'll make you the best." Then he and Bob left them, the boy nearly skipping.

They took the horse which he soon learned was named Bess, back to get her colt. The colt was not small by any means, after all, his dame was seventeen hands herself. He was light and solid looking, if in poor care. He whinnied and soon ducked his head to suckle. When he had his fill Harry attached a rope to his neck he did not expect a problem he should just follow his mother and began to lead her back. Just as he was turning around the corner he heard Tom say:

"Well Bill, we have spoken about this." Harry looked back just in time to see a very solid punch given. Bill was picking himself from the floor with his lip bloody. He finally after a few minutes of holding his head he leant against the wall and spat out a tooth. Tom gave him no more attention - they left Bill where he was.

Two weeks later he was walking back into his home. Glorfidel and Elrond had heard him coming and his new acquisition. The horses clopped on their new shoes, the colt was prancing at her side with long legged strides, having not grown muscles as of yet. He was dubbed Tiny because it amused him; the colt was already seven hands high at three months. He ate what seemed to be in his weight.

Just for form, he stuck out his lower lip and gave a little pout while scuffing his toe. "Can I keep them please? They just followed me home?"

Spring 2983

He left well before spring truly started, along with ten elves, to star his endeavor. Harry knew that they would only stay for a short time; they could not leave Rivendell for long. Bess was pulling his cart, which was loaded with some of the things he would need. With hope, there would be enough there that he could salvage, reuse and rebuild. He had with him a plow, seeds and all the tools necessary to make a start, and was now very glad that he had studied caretaking rather than battles.

Tharbad was just as he recalled it - the word desolate came to mind. To start with, he and the elves began burning timbers that had rotted. The small amount of sound wood was put aside. When the biggest portion was taken care of, the elves left.

He found the place that would be his new house. It was a small building, which he assumed it was the remains of a forge, as there was very little wood, and the roof (what was left of it) was high so that sparks would not reach it. The walls were sturdy and thick, keeping much of the debris from upsetting the structure itself. Fireplaces were set into one side. It was brilliant.

The first thing he did was begin placing a new roof on it. He went out onto the plains, felling trees for timber. Maneuvering the tree, and then enabling it to be pulled by his new horses Tiny and Bess, was the difficult part. Tiny was still young, and could not haul loads, but he had been brought to watch and begin learning. Harry attached the log to Bess' harness with ropes and hooks. A touch of magic made the weight less, so for her it was a simple matter of walking back to the house.

He spent the next week splitting and lifting timbers. Rangers had come, as they said they would, and were a wonderful help in setting up a new roof over two buildings - his new house and the stables. The stable had once been a fine house, and as things were, it was in decent condition - the walls were standing, with only some reinforcement needed in some places - now that many hours had been spent hauling debris out. The foundations were done. His two horses would share the Ladies sitting room, with large doors that led directly outside. This would make his job easier - it would be smaller to keep warm, and the larger space would be for the rangers when they came. Harry planned to clean out the balcony over the hall for hay storage. It made him laugh how he would be living in a forge whilst horses would be living in a once fine dining hall and ladies sitting room. He would fine some use for the rest of the building.

As the elves had done, the rangers left him after many long hours of labor.

The door to the fort he had made was hidden behind vines and carefully laid boulders. Unless one knew how and where to look, it would be rather had to find the entrance. He used the old buildings for small gardens, after ripping out the roofs and clearing otherwise wasted space. He was a farmer now, and was rather happy with his new calling.

He did not get much planting done that season, as it was late summer and not near enough time for a second sowing, let alone reaping. He grew some wheat in an empty field and replanted a few saplings he found around the outer land. He was again ready to visit the Dunlendings. It had been a little over a year since he saw them. He left supplies in the empty stable in case any of the Rangers came while he was gone. He still had much work to do. He took some supplies and a very carefully selected group of marbles. He made several that he showed them last time. The one to lighten loads, weak fire (they would only last a few uses), and water making. Each could have been dangerous if they knew how to use them correctly, however was not ready to teach them that yet.

The fields where they usually were stood empty; not a single sheep could be seen. The tents were gone. It was with trepidation he went on to the winter quarters further in. The sight he found was both better and worse than he had hoped. The men were wandering their trees, carrying clubs. They said nothing to him just told him to go inside, where Walf was waiting for him. Walf son of Herca, chieftain of the people. The women were busy doing their work without any of the gayness he witnessed before.

He was a bit more worried about them when he was shown into his house without any problem. They were a suspicious people. This time however he was being looked to as a hope. He was not a warrior, nor a hero, and it was a bit intimidating. He knew they were seeing him this time as some sort of power as the legends of the wizards carried, he was not a legendary figure. He was a trouble maker just the opposite.

Walf sat at a small table going over a map of Rohan. He stood against the wall and began to listen to the conversation. It seemed they were making plans to invade a small village. "Why?" he asked. He would not help them with this.

"My people will starve this winter if we do not. The Strawheads have much, they will not give us work nor mercy. The children in our villages would go hungry as they feast. What would you have me do?" he asked.

"Where is Hecra?" Harry asked. He wanted to know what was going on. Soon, he found out the whole story. Orcs had come through the mountains from the north. They slaughtered many of their sheep, leaving others injured and to die. One of the smaller enclaves was burned - men, women and children left to die slowly of their wounds if not killed outright. Hecra and a band of ten left to drive them away. Only Hecra's body was found - the others were nowhere to be seen. Harry asked them to hold their invasion off, but he was told that there was little time, for winter would come and they would need to fill their stores before then.

Wondering what to do, Harry stepped out of the house. He had some coins, but not nearly enough to buy food for the whole population to last through winter. There was a small store of food back in his fort, but that was perhaps not enough. He had not planned, or been aware of, that while he had been planting and building, these people had been preparing to starve.

He was still unsure what to do when a tiny dirty girl tugged at his cape. "My mother says you're the Harry that saved my father. Thank you." She couldn't have been more than four, the smallest child in the house from the winter before. He bent down on one knee to look at her face. He could see the fear he had felt so long ago before he came to this land. So he held out his arms and let her climb in.

He knew he had made the correct decision last year. Let others say what they would. These people might be a bit uncouth, and wary, but they were hard because of the pain in their past. They had been driven from the place they had seen as home. They carried their stories, as the Rohans did by words, with no written language. Their history was different from others as it was told by the ones driven away. They were telling the story from the losing side. He saw them with eyes, unlike the rest of Middle Earth. Who helped them? Who held out a hand to aid them? In his opinion, they had been overlooked for far too long. He was different from any to walk these lands; he had no history either for or against anyone else. Whom was he to judge them for their lack of connection to the First Born? He was not even from this world and had less connection than they. They lived shorter lives then the Dúnedain, yet was their time any less important?

Filled with a new determination he walked back inside, with the girl in his arms. "Let us see what is to be done."

In truth, it seemed that they had no real desire to invade: it was a simple matter of being desperate. The men went hunting for all the game they could find. Harry left, and then brought back all the foods that he could spare. The women foraged, seeing what little they could find. Harry left again, this time to Bree, where he purchased all the food he could and brought it back. Icy gusts of wind started to blow down from the mountain. Winter was coming.

Harry was quite pleased - yes, it would indeed be a thin winter, but no-one would starve. In the two months that he had spent working with them, he had still not managed to truly befriend them, although he was now welcome. So, he chose to tighten his belt alongside them, and stick out the winter. He had made a commitment, and would see it through.

Harry was many things - childish, irreverent, sarcastic - but most of all he was stubborn, and worked hard at everything he did. He had persevered and overcome his eyes, and could now wield a sword. Out of sheer determination and stubbornness he had worked and worked until he could use his staff. Now he was going to make friends with these people, whether they liked it or not.

As opposed to his last visit, when he worked for them, this time he spent many long hours toiling alongside them, and just as he always did with a new community, he got to the children first. (Yes, he knew it was a poor and perhaps sneaky way, but it worked). Every day he worked just as hard as the men, if not harder, and then would turn around and entertain the children each night. The women loved the fact that they children were not only out of the way, but out of trouble whilst they made supper.

Inevitably, there was always a confrontation, and he had seen it time and time again. In truth, it was part of the reason why this was his style (that and that children were often more fun to be with) as it made the wary adults accept him, albeit grudgingly in some cases.

He was chasing the smaller children around the snow covered square, growling and snatching at their cloaks, whilst also grabbing the older ones and tossing them into huge drifts. Tiny persons were clinging onto his legs, and another was on his back. Then, one small child began to cry - for which he could see no apparent reason. A man came barging out of his house, and snatched the little boy up from the ground, giving Harry a very cold look. "Woman!" He thundered. His wife came out of the house and looked at her son, saying nothing, and her husband started ranting.

"I told you that he could not be trusted! Our boy is crying for no reason! It is his evil magic ways I tell you!" She, however, ignored him and was far more logical. Perhaps it was simply due to the fact that whilst the men were off hunting, the women were with the children, thus knew them better. She lifted the still tearful toddler from his arms.

"Collis, where are you hurt?" The boy, who looked no more than three, held up his hand and showed her his finger. He had simply gotten a rather large splinter. The man, shamefaced, then apologized.

Being who they were, the children would go right back to playing. Women would see this as a sign that they were a good judge of character. Men would look at him, and either confirm their belief that he meant no harm, or would have him closely watched. The latter group were always harder to win over, but Harry knew they would come round eventually. Those men would keep their comments to themselves as the women always stood up for Harry, and you do not mess with a woman who's having a break from looking after her child. It was a sly move on Harry's part, but it worked every time.

He spent many late nights with Walf before the fire. It was during the coldest portion of winter when he finally spoke to him about the people's future - Walf was a young man of twenty two and now the leader. They discussed planting more crops, and lambing for the spring. It was not, however, always light hearted discussions.

"The orcs move through the mountains as ants do on a hill. They travel to the south where their master dwells. What will you do when war wages across the land?" Harry asked.

"I must stand for my people. I know not what we will do. We have no weapons of war, nor do we have the large numbers of the Strawheads. If we did join to fight, no matter our intentions nor 'side', we would be slaughtered by any and all. The Horse-Riders would fall upon us. It would be best for my people to stay in our land, least we be killed."

It was not a very firm stand, but if he could keep them out of the war, it would be for the better. One less enemy to worry about, Harry told himself. "As you know, I am a magic user. My original purpose for this visit was to bring you gifts. Unfortunately the circumstances were unfavorable for giving gifts - there were more immediate concerns. I would give them to you now, but I will ask one favor of you."

Herca looked at him through silted eyes, then gave him a nod, and so Harry told him of the marbles power, how they caused trees to blossom, and could create great fires and lift heavy trees when they fell. They were perhaps the most useful for them. "All I ask in return for my help is that you never raise a sword or weapon against the Rohans, unless they invade here."

"You would give us gifts of power? What good would they do against the Strawheads anyway, for surely you gave them weapons to stop any you gave us?" He scoffed.

Harry sat forward, and lifted his staff to scratch at his back. He knew this moment could solidify his position with them, and it was necessary, for otherwise they would think of revenge against the Rohans. "I have given the Rohans nothing, for they needed not my aid."

Hecra stood and paced the room. Harry could tell he was wrestling with some weighty matter. "My people have long been cast aside. My people have long been hunted. However the creatures that killed my father Herca is our greatest worry. They would kill and starve us if they could find us in the trees and mountains. The Horse Riders have given us no worries for many years." He spoke, almost to himself. Harry liked the way he was thinking, so he sat back and placed his boots on the table. "You, Harry have given us help and ask only such a small thing."

Walf turned to him then. His mind was obviously made up, for his face was determined. "We will not invade them, if your promise bears truth. Never have any come to this land and defeated us. This is our home. You ask really for nothing, and we would have a strong ally for once."

"No, I am simply a creator of weapons and a farmer. I am not a leader that is more responsibility than I want, or should ever be given." He protested. He was not a leader - he had not the training to be a leader. Walf scoffed at that statement, unitl Harry narrowed his eyes and pointed his staff at him.

"As you say then... You say that you can help us defend our borders and feed our people, and all that you ask is that we stay at home? Yes, I agree, only so long as they do not bother us." The last comment was spoken rather dubiously. The natural hatred of the orcs was far greater than the hatred of the Rohans.

"Our people? You mean your people? Right?" Walf simply laughed and pushed his boots off the table.

He left them again in the early spring, after placing much power into the water enchanting marble. They would need to grow plants more than anything else. Harry had other work that needed seeing to.

That spring and summer he spent many hours alone. Whilst his crops grew, he began to build a forge of his own out of all the stone from buildings that were unfit to be rebuilt. The Rangers came and went as they pleased. Some would stay for a week, and others would simply pass through and gather food supplies. No-one stayed for long. They had work to do, and so did he.

It went on like this for many years. In the winters he would make his way to visit the hobbits, or elves in Rivendell - he would occasionally travelled on to Rohan and visited the people in the fields. He never spoke of his work with the Dunlendings to anyone. They were too fearful of outsiders, who, Harry felt, would not be ready to give them much of a chance until they proved themselves. It was a difficult situation - one he could see little hope in overcoming.

3001

The orcs were constantly creeping along his senses. He knew they would come from the north and head south as their master called. The question to him was why they were not leaving the mountains. They would settle in the largest part of Misty Mountains. There was talk of bands going throughout Rohans plains, and of some passing out by way of Angrenost but very few leaving by way of Isengard. He was very glad that Saruman was doing such a good job of keeping them contained. He had no idea how he managed, after all, he had enough trouble keeping his few miles clear. Just as he had been doing then.

"Come, foul creatures, meet my blade!" He sang in Sindarian, for that alone would enrage them. Whilst he wasn't really using a sword, he thought it sounded better than, "Na na na na na... I'm going to set you on fire!" As he had the first time, or "Ooops! That's gotta hurt!" Whilst pushing strategically placed boulders down on them. And so, come they did - fifteen of them howling and baying. The staff now, after many years, gave him fewer and fewer problems. It was still tiring to control the flow of energy he used, but he thought he was doing rather well for himself, being only sixty after all.

It was with much practice that he waited until they were almost upon him before raising his staff and casting down a great fire. He no longer felt the pity he once had when setting them aflame - unlike the men they captured, they would die swiftly. The Dunlendings spoke of bands of orcs not killing on sight, but taking and killing them elsewhere. Harry could think of little that he could do to help them, however, as he was not only growing crops and supplying the Rangers with food, but he was also creating swords and knives for them all. Alone, he was not powerful enough to take on huge numbers of orcs. Thankfully, the Dunlendings were simply people, wanting nothing more than what he could give.

It was with great disappointment that he saw one orc fleeing. He had missed one, dammit! The others were running down to the river, covered in flames. The water would not help - they would burn till the flames consumed them or he called the magic back.

He gave a sharp whistle and Tiny came. Out of boredom over the long winters he had taught Bess and Tiny to dance. Tiny had taken to it well, being only a colt and still playful. Seeing his talent in it, Harry set him with heavier irons on his shoes. Tiny grew to be a huge horse nineteen hands high with a silver coat and long white feathers. He would pull effortlessly, without seeming to notice any weight on him. He also learned to dance as his only pony had.

As the Rohans did, he had created armor for Tiny - a breast plate to protect his belly and chest, and a smaller plate over his nose. Harry pointed to the one that had gotten away, and Tiny set after him as if he was a dog chasing after a tossed stick. Tiny was worse than Marvin had ever been. He gave a horse's battle cry, and landed a swift kick to the orc's back, followed by a well-aimed kick to his head. The sheer power of his hooves cracked the orc's head clean open. However, Tiny was by no means finished, and reared again on his back. Harry gave another whistle - otherwise Tiny would continue until there was nothing left to burn. Tiny trotted back to him, with a look that plainly said 'You're ruining my fun!"

"I know, but there has to be enough to burn, my friend, otherwise they will eat the carcass, and we can't be feeding them now, can we?" Harry explained, scratching his ear. They soon made their way back to the fort they had made almost three miles away. With practice, he could feel them well before they arrived, and so could fight them on his terms, thus never letting them get within a mile of his home.

As he neared the stable house, he saw a horse drinking from the rain barrel not far from the entrance. He knew that it could only be a ranger, for they were the only ones beside a few elves that knew how to enter. With little worry, he set off to the horse's house. He saw no point in calling it a stable; it was far too fine for that. Whoever had come to visit was in there - he could hear someone cooing at Bess. There were three entrances - one to the main stable, the back entrance was for the manure pit, and then another was his horses' personal door.

Tiny soon found the other water barrel and drank deeply. Harry took a moment to begin removing his armor. It was a well practice exercise. Then, he began to clean off his hooves. "Tiny, lift your foot- you have all sorts of orc pieces there, and we cannot have that - imagine the infection you would have if we left it!"

When he had taken to joking with his pets, Harry knew that he had been alone for far too long. The occasional visits from passing through Rangers who came for supplies were few and far between, and whilst the Dunlendings knew how to reach him in case of emergencies, thus far they had not, for fear of the others that visited. Harry didn't blame them, but his work was very lonely, and he often went weeks without company.

When Tiny was finally washed and ready to be put away, Harry took him back to his room. Inside he saw the last person that he had expected. In front of Bess' side of the room stood Estel, who was gazing at her with a mystified expression. As he turned around, Harry could see the marks that the many years had made. Between their separate travels their paths had rarely crossed, though they would sometimes meet in Rivendell, or Harry would be sought out while visiting Saradoc. Estel was now sun kissed, and had an almost weathered look about him.

"Well, it is good to see you Estel. One moment." He would need a minute or two to get his head on straight. What could he say to him; heard about your battle in Conistare - good job torching the boats? Or how about 'so how are things between you and the cackler, the elleth who tried to have me tossed out of a tree? Or 'About time you showed up - I've been here for, what, two decades now'? He was unsure what to say to the man he had spent so many of his childhood years tormenting - chasing after him and trying to drive him crazy. He had hoped that Estel would have come to visit the place he had made all those years ago, after all, it was his people he was helping. He felt like a small child, wanting so badly to impress him.

"I here little of your trouble lately Elcalad. No one seems to know where you disappeared to. I have just come from Rivendell, when the rangers told me of all you have done. I hear stories of your kindness, generosity and humor from many. Elcalad, you have become a man that I am proud to know." Estel spoke first.

"Huh?" This was his first (intelligent) response, and then he figured it would be best to go with what he knew: laughter. "Well, I have heard that you are becoming a bit of a trouble maker yourself - off fighting all over the place." He clucked his tongue at him.

Estel did just as he had hoped, and simply laughed. Now that Harry looked closely, however, he seemed a bit drawn. It was very late or early, however you looked at it. "Come with me. I have a place for you to sleep."

"One question first. Your horses, did you grow them that size on purpose?" Estel gazed at the two of them.

"Would you believe me if I said that they followed me home?" Harry asked.

"With you, I would believe anything." Estel slapped him on the back. He was taller than himself, but Harry had more in the chest and arms then he did. Harry wondered if he could take him in a wrestling match.

He led him down to his home. He looked as though he had not slept comfortably in some time. He had barracks for the Rangers and cots of straw but looking at him he thought perhaps he might need a bed tonight. "If you would go down to the well, past three buildings and on your right, there are buckets there, please fill them and bring them back. I will start a fire so we can both clean up." Estel simply turned and did as he asked. Harry took himself to his room. It was sparse with little to nothing from home. He quickly changed the sheets, lit a fire and placed water over the fire to heat. He came back a few minutes later with two buckets. Harry took one from his hand. They both cleaned up in silence.

"Would you like to speak or wait until morning?" he asked.

"I am very tired but thank you. Would you mind terribly if we spoke later?" He did look tired, so with a nod he took himself off.

He found his way into the barracks he had completed only three years before. The rangers had been sleeping in tents he had acquired; with everything else he had been doing it just was not feasible to build a roof until then. The barracks were a long building, and he thought it might have once been a hall of some sort. He had had to rebuild one of the walls as it had been far too damaged to reinforce. He had added a fire place, so now when the rangers came they had a comfortable place to sleep and a long table to dine at. He found a straw mat and used his sheets to make his bed.

As the sun rose in the sky, Harry was already out doing the chores - the cows would need milking, regardless of how long his night had been. He had torn down several of the tumbled down building, and had made a small border in which she and another cow could graze in. From their milk he made cheese and butter, which was a treat for his guests. Then he gathered his eggs, before going on to the forge, where he heated the fires and checked his newest metal for smelting. It was still not right - far too much of an echo.

His next job was to make breakfast. Estel found him standing with his hands knuckle-deep in dough. Harry was very thankful for having met and helped many women along the way - now he could cook very well, which was something that most men could not do. "Well, don't just stand there Estel, make yourself comfortable."

Estel did look better this morning. His face was clear and clean, and he smelled better, most definitely. He was wearing a clean tunic and pants, which was not something a person always had on hand. Instead of asking for his laundry like a good wife, Harry pointed to the large tub with soapy water. With everything he did, it felt like he was constantly washing clothes. The ones from last night smelled suspiciously like burning orcs. Estel took his bag and simply emptied it over the tub. He had nothing clean it seemed. A few minutes later, he came back with his cloak and tossed that in too. Then, without having to be told, he started washing his own clothes, and Harry's that had been sitting in the water.

A moment later, all that was left to do was cover the bowl and place it on the mantle above the fire for rising. He checked on the porridge and served it up. It was a small reminder of home for him. He had had porridge all the time sitting at his father's table. Estel finished the laundry and hung them from a line before the fire. They seemed to have little to say to each other.

It was Estel that broke the silence. "Why is there an owl in the rafters in the cabin and here a hawk?"

"Oh, I really have no clue as to why they won't leave. The owl I found and healed her wing. She hasn't left yet, I call her Moss, and I just can't seem to scrapper her off. This is Swinger, a very odd hawk, coming from me that is saying something. I found her going after my chickens one day. I got her off them, she managed to catch one that time. She came back the next day, I manage to scare her off without losing any of my hens. On the third day she brought me a mouse. On the fifth day she took to following me about. Now as you can tell Swinger is odd, well on the sixth day she landed on my shoulder and gave me another mouse. On the seventh day I finally told her she could stay. She has not left yet and between the two I have very few problems with mice."

"That does not explain the name 'Swinger' though..." Estel raised his eyebrows, reminding him forcefully of Elrond.

"Well she has taken a liking to hangings on to the horse's tails. Tiny would swing him back and forth and give him a toss. Neither seems to mind, and I think have a very good time with it" He told him.

"I think you attract pets with the same oddness as you. Either that or something about you is contagious." He was then told. Harry sat back for a moment just thinking about it.

"I would like to think they were unique before coming to me. Bess is the sanest of all the animals here. Well except the cows and chicken but they do not count after all they are food. Bess is a good solid work horse. She does her job well with little to no extra." He told him

"The sanest you must think she is a little mad then."

"Most definitely - she bites; rather she bites after she dances. Do you remember Marvin?" Estel looked around the room as if expecting an attack.

"I do recall your pony well." Estel said after a moment.

"I taught both my new horses to dance one winter. She had taken to it well enough. The thing is, she will do her dance randomly and if you do not give her a treat she will take a nibble of you, step on your toes or slap you with her tail. So I will be setting my horses out to wander and you best keep an apple in your pocket."

Estel managed to follow him around most of the day. He had plants to water, and by an irrigation system he made at the top of each plot he could direct the flow evenly throughout each patch of fruit or vegetable. Estel asked little and spoke less, there was evidently something on his mind and Harry did not think now would be the time to nag it out of him.

"Your horses live in a fine house. You remade the forge into a small cabin. Hollowed out homes are used to hold your gardens. The streets grow wild grass for the horses to graze. If that was not enough your cows are in the Training field by the looks of things. You never could do the expected." He laughed over their lunch.

"Well that is a fine thing to say. No I did this in this way it is so there would be little sign that it is occupied. Outsiders will see no more than a crumbled land. It is, I feel, for the best."

"No it is well thought out. It is just that only you could have thought of something so odd and turn it into such a blessing. The rangers have a place to gather and get aid. I also saw you have taken down the old ford?"

Harry couldn't help but blush, after all it was the land that belonged to the Kingdom of Arnor, and he just walked up and laid claim to a large section of it.

"They were an eyesore, and also very deceiving. In my first few years there have been several riders come north, many made their way through the water, some made part way over the ford before turning around. I had to rescue two tinkers, one who's wagons wheel slid off and another's who horse broke his foot in rotten timbers. I felt removing it was the best."

Estel did not seem to argue with him over that. "Where are the stones now? The river is to shallow too cover them and verily I already know you did something mad with them." What would he say if he knew that nearly half were strategically place in Drunland to fall down the side of the hill in case of invasion?

"I have some of the stones used in the foundation of the store room." He told him. Estel simply shook his head. As if he accepted him to have little respect for and ancient bridge, bah he was irreverent nothing to be done about it. Estel stayed and helped him with his chores for several days, he seemed to not find it beneath him to milk a cow nor to gather chicken eggs.

During one of their late night talks he brought of Lady Arwen. "I am betrothed now." He said.

"Oh?" Was Harry's reply. What could he say to that? While he thought it was good for him he had an almost gloomy look.

"I have to unite the kingdoms and take my birthright to marry her." Well that was a difficult task if not near impossible. Harry took himself up from the table, opened the cask he keep for such occasions; cold winters, heavy hearts and impossible tasks that the rangers brought with them. He took out a goblet and filled it to the brim. Then with a thunk put it in front of him. Estel gave him one of his looks, it read 'What are you up to now?'

"Raise it up either in good cheer for you betrothed or drowned your worries. The casks if full so you might drown yourself if you feel the need." he said.

"You never do change will you Elcalad? Not a serious bone in your body." He then raised his goblet and took a swallow. "Have any of the women that have crossed your path caught your eye and won your heart?" he asked.

"A woman for me? Oh no, fair hearts are not in my future. I wonder whom I would feel worse: for the women I would make my wife or myself." He stood there placed his hand on a hip and waggled a finger as he had seen women do all over. He made his voice high pitched and then in his best womanly voice said "Harry, why are there stones on the kitchen table? Harry you are dragging orcs blood in the rug. Harry why are you poking the fire with the sword? Harry dearest, that is a King you respect, not cover in chicken feathers. Harry that is a Magic Staff, not a back scratcher!" By that time Estel had smiled just as he had hoped.

He left soon after saying he was on a mission for Gandalf and hoped to return soon. They were back to normal after so many years apart he also had with him several marbles and a large supply of food.

3015

Tiny and Bess had passed on as all thing do. His birds had flow off. The rangers still came and left as they would. He still made his trips to Rivendell, Rohan and the Hobbits as his time would allow. He did rather very little that anyone could point at and say "Good Job!" He was simply a farmer and a smith. His, what he thought, greatest work was not spoken of.

He milked cows and planted crops. He gave much of it to the Rangers when they came. He took surplus to the Dunlendings only to find they had been doing much the same thing. With great pride Walf who had grown into his own took him to one of the many caves they had scattered about. He saw dried venison, and ham, bags upon bags of wheat, jars of jams and other goods. He told him that this one cave had enough to feed their village for three winters; the other settlements were doing much the same thing. They scattered their hoards.

With even greater pride than he thought they would ever have, Walf took him to a small grove. They had saplings in small pots, he was told it was so that if the day ever came they could replant their trees. At a small feast he was served they told him the one piece of new that for the first time in years gave him true faith that they would be alright on their own. They had not used the magic he had given them in five years. They had taken to hoarding the marbles as they had their crops. He could tell that the men and women for perhaps the first time in many years, perhaps generations felt true pride in their land and accomplishments.

He left with the words "Let the Strawheads try to take our land from us. We know our trees. We know our land, they are nothing without the horses and their horses cannot travel here."

He had to acknowledge they might never be friends but at least the Dunlendings were no longer looking to improve their situation by looking to Rohan as a solution.

Spring 3016

"Good day to you!" a man called out. He was always caught by Gandalf in an awkward position. He had his arm in one of his heifers checking on her progress with the calf. When he was finished he gave her rump a slap and set her on her way.

"Good day to you, my good man Gandalf, what brings you to my humble home?" It was not the first time he had come, but his visits were very infrequent, Gandalf would show up as he would and simply leave as the wind turned.

"I came by for a bit of supper if you would be so kind and speak to you. It has taken me this long with much pondering, but I think I have it figured out. You can thank me with your fine manners and hospitality." He said.

"That was many words for I know something you do not and you will be very happy with me. However, as old as you are perhaps you feel the need to confuse all of us that are children to you, thus making us more amendable to forgive your senility." He said back.

Gandalf raised his staff at him. Harry raised his still unwashed arm back. "You are perhaps more exasperating than any hobbit, for they may surprise me all the time. You continue to elude my understanding. I cannot fathom how it is everyone that meets you likes you, even I."

"My rugged good looks?" he asked. He was not an unhandsome man nor was he handsome in comparison to the elves. He was average other than his coloring. He was short compared to the Drúedain and stocky from his work.

"No, it's certainly not that. Yes, I recall now, it is for your wonderful butter never tasted better, that hit of salt and honey, superb. Such a good wife you will make one day." Gandalf took himself off without invitation and up to his house. Harry simply finished his chores.

Gandalf in the meantime helped himself to bread, cheese, mead and started a stew. He began to puff on his pipe sitting in a chair he taken from his table. Gandalf also knew Harry would never turn away a beggar and always he plenty to share with any he met. It was one of his many good qualities Gandalf mused to himself. He was a bit of a joker but he never turned any away. It was this reason he found himself thinking he had been allowed to come to Arda rather pass beyond the veil.

"Seeing as you have made yourself at home, wait a moment so that I might wash." Harry said, then went inside. "Oh this stew smells lovely, why my beans and ham are sure to settle in your stomach well." He called out. Gandalf shook his head; Harry could never get any real meanness into his voice.

He came out not long after and joined him he tossed a rug on the ground and flopped at his feet. It was a position they did on many occasions. He would never ask for his chair nor take them to the barracks, where there was more to sit on. Gandalf knew there were few that had come into his home; himself, Aragon (still called Estel by Harry), and the visiting elves. He would only go to the barracks if there were more than one visitor.

"It has come to my attention that you have never met Saruman and that you have not been given a task. All of the Maiar were given the task to aid the men in defeating the evil of Sauron. You however are not a Maiar you have not the wisdom of the Valar, or centuries to acquire wisdom. You have no knowledge in the way of war. You also do not, compared to many, have great power."

"Would you like to get to my good points at some time?" he asked. Gandalf gave him a dire look that had him shutting his lips.

"Yes, I will." He then sat back and said again nothing. Harry thought again that 'Old Persons' were maddening. "You do not concern yourself with Kingdoms. It is in this I believe is perhaps your greatest gift. You see the darkness of the world. It is in this power you have performed your greatest miracle. Not the marbles you give out to any in need. Not the food you serve to any and all. Not for the fine weapons you create."

"My good points would be nice sometime this century…" he said again.

"Yes, fine, so impatient. It is that you see not what the future holds but immediate needs. This is the gift of the young. You do not snit in giving to any and all. The Wild Men have not caused a ruckus in the many years you have run this fort. I and Lady Galadriel have been in communication and she would like to congratulate you for your wisdom." He then stood as tall as he could, and seemed to grow even taller, his hunch in his back appeared to straighten, and in that moment he was a person of power, with strength he so rarely showed. And then he bowed.