Disclaimer: I do not own anything recognizable from either Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. They belong solely to the two authors whose brilliant minds created these worlds.

This is my first crossover. Please review and tell me what you think.

Thank you.

WARNING: This story is rated M for implied rape, abuse, abandonment, and mild violence.

Note: The words spoken in Elvish will be italicized.

Author's Note: From this chapter on, Hermione's name will be Siladhiel Ithilwen or just Siladhiel.

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Belonging

By Edhelwen Oneita

~Shadows~

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Eriol galloped nonstop after leaving Rohan's stable. Gandalf easily guided the horse through the wooded area after having traveled along the Great East Road that ran parallel to the White Mountains. The wizard glanced down to the Hobbit before him, seeing that Pippin had fallen asleep at some point in the journey. Looking ahead, Gandalf saw the trees thinning and soon he was breaking out of the tree line then they were flying across a plain. The sudden sunlight woke Pippin and he looked around bleary eyed before Gandalf spoke up catching his attention.

"We have just passed into the realm of Gondor!"

Pippin stared ahead as Eriol crests a hill where Gandalf pulled on the reigns to stop. Before them, an empty field stretched out but the Hobbit's eyes were drawn to a large city that was built into a mountain of white rock. The morning sun gleamed off the white stone making the city shine like a jewel. Pippin gasped in awe making Gandalf grin down at the small Hobbit before him. He looked up and spoke in a voice that held a proud reverence.

"That Pippin, is Minas Tirith, the City of Kings."

Gandalf gently nudged Eriol back into a gallop as they made their way down the hill towards the grand city of Gondor. Unknown to the Hobbit, Gandalf was worried. He knew that their welcome would most likely be rough. It was partially why he had Síladhiel leave towards Minas Tirith the morning after he and Pippin left. She would most likely be needed. They neared the thick and elegantly carved gates that opened at his approach. Slowing Eriol from a gallop down to a canter, Gandalf maneuvered the horse through the busy streets of the maze like city as he made his way up to the Citadel, the top of the seven layers that made up Minas Tirith. Gandalf soon slowed Eriol to a halt and dismounted before reaching up to lower Pippin from the horse's back. Quickly scanning the area, Gandalf made his way towards the Tower of Ecthelion, where the Kings of old and the Current reigning Steward of Gondor's throne room resided. As they made their way to the Tower, Pippin was looking at a carved fountain in the center of the courtyard, he smiled admiring its design as it tricked into a small pool that was amongst a circle of grass. The Hobbit's eyes grew wide when he caught sight of the single white tree standing in the center of the green circle. A flashback of what he saw in the Palantír flashed in his mind and he grew pale in fear.

"The tree…" Pippin's voice was nothing more than a terrified whisper and he doubted that the wizard heard him. Tugging frantically on Gandalf's sleeve, Pippin pointed back towards the tree and spoke in a slightly louder voice. "It's the tree, Gandalf. Gandalf! My vision!"

Gandalf glanced over at the tree then down at Pippin. "Yes, the White Tree of Gondor, the tree of the King. Lord Denethor however is not the king. He is a steward only. A caretaker of the throne."

Gandalf stopped just outside the doors of the Tower, hesitating. Taking a deep breath, he turned to Pippin and placed a heavy hand onto the Hobbit's shoulder as if to emphasize the seriousness of his next words. "Listen carefully, Pippin. Lord Denethor is Boromir's father. I have feeling that Lord Denethor has gotten word that his beloved son was killed. To give him news of Boromir's survival would be most unwise."

"But why? I mean, should we not tell him the truth?"

"No, to tell him now of Boromir would actually hinder our battle against Mordor. I fear Gondor relies too much on Boromir and needs to put their faith on another this time." Gandalf waited until he saw the understanding enter Pippin's expression before he turned back to the door before quickly looking back at the Hobbit. "And do not mention anything about Frodo or the Ring and say nothing of Aragorn either." Gandalf again turns to enter, but stops and glances down at Pippin. "In fact, it's better if you don't speak at all, Peregrin Took."

Pippin scowled. He was not that bad was he? Though he did not feel that keeping the truth of Boromir away from the man's father was good, he understood that at times its best to keep things secret for the sake of others. The two of them entered the tower and made their way to the throne room. After the guards opened the door, Gandalf slowly approached Lord Denethor, who sat at the far end of the large ornate room that had two thrones. One throne was raised higher than the second where the Steward sat upon with his face lowered holding something in his hands. Pippin noticed the Lord was holding the broken Horn of Gondor that he remembered seeing Boromir had hanging from his belt during the trip from Rivendell.

"Hail, Denethor, son of Ecthelion, Lord and Steward of Gondor. I come with tidings in this dark hour and with counsel." Gandalf's voice boomed throughout the vast room, startling Pippin from his thoughts.

The man sitting upon the smaller throne looked up, clutching the broken horn tightly in his hands as his face twisted into a scowl. Lord Denethor spoke with a voice that sounded broken but grew to anger. "Perhaps you have come to explain this. Perhaps you have come to tell me why my son is dead."

Pippin's eyes locked onto the horn as he remembered the brave man blowing it to summon help as he and Síladhiel fought the Uruks. He trembled as the scene of the three arrows striking Boromir in the chest replayed in his mind. Normally no man would survive that. Now he understood why Gandalf told him to not say anything about Boromir being alive he would want to know how which could put Síladhiel in danger. Gathering his courage, Pippin rushed forward before Gandalf can respond to Lord Denethor's inquiry. "Boromir died to save us, my kinsman and me. He fell defending us from many foes."

"Pippin!"

Pippin did not know why but there was a feeling he should do what he is doing. There was as if something was telling him to somehow get close to the Lord. He often got into trouble, but there were times that he would have a gut feeling to do something and it usually ended up being a good thing. With his mind determined, Pippin kneeled before the Lord and spoke in a clear voice. "I offer you my service, such as it is, in payment of this debt."

Denethor looked down his nose at the Halfling kneeling before him. "This is my first command to you, how did you escape and my son did not? So mighty a man as he was."

Pippin gulped and continued knowing his next words would not be kind. "The mightiest man may be slain by one arrow." Pippin took a breath. "Boromir was pierced by many."

Gandalf let out an exasperated sigh before walking up to Pippin and pulling him to his feet. "Get up!" Gandalf stepped in front of Pippin and in a beseeching tone tried to spark action from the Lord. "My lord, there will be a time to grieve for Boromir, but it is not now. War is coming. The enemy is on your doorstep! As Steward, you are charged with the defense of this city. Where are Gondor's armies? You still have friends. You are not alone in this fight. Send word to Théoden of Rohan. Light the beacons."

Denethor's scowl turned into a smirk as he scoffed at Gandalf. "You think you are wise, Mithrandir, yet for all your subtleties you have not wisdom. Do you think the eyes of the White Towers are blind? I have seen more than you know." Lord Denethor glared at the wizard accusingly as he hissed out his words. "With your left hand you would use me as a shield against Mordor. And, with your right, you seek to supplant me!" Denethor watched the wizard for any sort of sign that his words were getting to him. "I know who rides with Théoden of Rohan. Oh, yes, words have reached my ears of this Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and I tell you now, Wizard, I will not bow to this Ranger from the North. Last of a ragged house long bereft of Lordship!"

Gandalf's anger flared at Denethor's words. "Authority is not given to you to deny the return of the King, Steward!"

Denethor stood up angrily pointing at the wizard before him as he yelled out with fervent certainty. "The whole rule of Gondor is mine! And no other's!"

Gandalf shook his head as he looked at the once strong man before him in disappointment before calling to Pippin as he turned to leave. He bit his tongue as he made his way out the doors. Once the doors were shut he let loose. "All has turned to vain ambition! He would even use his grief, the death of his eldest son, as a cloak." Gandalf was furious and continued to rant as he headed towards his quarters he used whenever he would visit the White City. Síladhiel will be here soon enough. Perhaps she could get through to him.

The tower door creaked open revealing the courtyard. Gandalf stopped gazing sadly at the White Tree, which had been planted by Isildur. "A thousand years this city has stood. Now, at the whim of a madman it will fall. The White Tree, the tree of the King, will never bloom again."

Pippin looked at the guards stationed around the tree. Their armor different from the others he had seen around Gondor. The armor seemed to state that the duty of these guards was special. "Why are they still guarding it?"

"They guard it because they have hope. A faint and fading hope that one day it will flower, that a King will come and this city will be as it once was, before it fell into decay." Gandalf glanced down at Pippin, taking in his expression of awe and wonder before looking back up. "The old wisdom bourne out of the west was forsaken. Kings made tombs more splendid than the houses of the living, and counted the old names of their descent dearer than the names of their sons. Childless Lords sat in aged halls musing on heraldry, or in high cold towers asking questions of the stars. And so the people of Gondor fell into ruin. The line of kings failed, the white tree withered and the rule of Gondor was given over to lesser men." As he spoke, they walked towards the point of the citadel that overlooked the fields below and the dark fiery sky beyond.

Pippin stared at the sky that was so bright and blue above them but soon faded into a darkness that seemed as if the sky was made of smoke and ash. He shuddered as a whispered word came out. "Mordor."

"Yes, there it lies. This city has dwelt ever in the sight of its shadow."

Pippin swallowed thickly, glancing at the thick smoke like clouds again he sighed. "A storm is coming."

Gandalf looked down at the Hobbit beside him. He knew what the Hobbit meant and confirmed it with a nod and his next words. "This is not the weather of the world. This is the device of Sauron's making. A broil of fumes he sends ahead of his host. The Orcs of Mordor have no love of daylight, so he covers the face of the sun to ease their passage along the road to war. When the shadow of Mordor reaches this city, it will begin."

Pippin's eyes went wide and all color drained from his face. Oh did he ever regret touching that blasted Palantír. "Well, Minas Tirith. Very impressive. So where are we off to next?" Pippin looked at him pleadingly.

"Oh it's too late for that, Peregrin. There is no leaving this city. Help must come to us." Gandalf chuckled and looked up towards Mordor as he whispered to himself. "Help must come to us."

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Síladhiel sat on a rock near a creek where Shadowfax was currently drinking from watching Boromir pace back and forth. She took down the enchantment feeling that they would be fine at their current spot within the Grey Woods, but after this break, he would have to be hidden. They were close to Gondor. Even though Boromir told her such, she could feel it. The darkness spreading from Mordor was thick even at their location. Sighing, Síladhiel stood up and walked to where she would be in the path of the man's pacing. Startled Boromir stopped and looked at her questioningly.

"What is it?"

"Should I not be asking you that question? What is going on that is making you carve a ditch into the creek bank with your pacing?" Síladhiel watched as the confused expression turned to one of apprehension.

"Why do I need to remain hidden? Would it truly do more damage than good to reveal to all of Gondor that I am still alive? I just do not understand what Gandalf is thinking." Boromir walked over to a rock and sat down placing his face into his hands. Síladhiel watched him as he sat down. He reminded her of Harry with the weight of the Wizarding World on his shoulders.

"Boromir, who can say what is truly going through Gandalf's head. Even as I grew up knowing him, he always spoke in riddles and kept most of the details of his plans close to himself, only telling us what he felt we needed to know to do what we had to. In the end, things always worked out. Perhaps his reasons are not against your father knowing but instead meant to undermined Sauron? Perhaps it is to allow Gondor to look up to another for hope instead of just relying on you or your father to lead them?"

Boromir's head popped up then as if something she said had caused the proverbial light bulb to click on. "As if he's paving a path for the true King to return?" Síladhiel blinked then shrugged and went to speak but Boromir shook his head before speaking again. "No, my father would not sit quietly for that. He would fight the very idea of someone like Aragorn coming in and taking over the rule of Gondor. However, with me gone it would leave my brother as the one Gondor would have to look upon. He is strong yet for some reason my father always despised him and always favored me. Perhaps with the news of my death, my father will learn to accept my brother for the fighter and Captain he is?"

"Brother?" That had caught Síladhiel off guard. Not once had Boromir spoke of having a sibling.

"Faramir. He is my younger brother. Growing up, he often studied lore with Gandalf instead of training with his sword. It always angered my father though. At one point, my father told Gandalf to leave and then threw my brother into a rigorous training regimen. Faramir struggled but I secretly helped him with his sword techniques so he could keep up with the others who had trained longer than he had. My brother never lost hope of the return of the King. My father for years has seemingly tried to turn him into a second me. However, Faramir I feel is different and his strengths are better used outside the battlefield. He would be a great advisor than a warrior."

"You are proud of him and his strengths." Síladhiel's voice startled Boromir causing him to look up at her. She smiled and continued. "You know his strengths and though your father thinks they make him a lesser man than you, you see them for what they are. Not everyone is meant to fight as a warrior but some are meant to be tacticians and do things behind the scenes. I believe when together you two would make for a powerful team that the enemy would be right to fear."

Boromir just stared at Síladhiel in surprise at her words. No one had ever expressed that about his brother and him. It was something he always believed would benefit Gondor's army, but because his father had a severe dislike for his brother, it was something he could never put to the test. He knew his brother was gentle hearted and that fighting would eventually destroy that, but his brother always had a sharp mind and was a quick thinker on the spot. For someone who had never met him, Síladhiel had clued into that based off what he said about his brother. But then again, she likely recognized that his brother is similar to her, even though she is a strong fighter, he cannot help but wonder how great of a tactician she would be if allowed to show those skills. He thought back on her memories she had shown back when they were in Rivendell for the council. All the times her friends and her got into situations she was the mastermind in either completing their mission or getting them out of the situation altogether. He remembered Moria when she pieced together the skeleton being a trap, having noticed the chained bucket was attached and how the dwarf skeleton had been placed there purposefully. She was indeed a sharp mind and quick thinker.

"You would know I think." Síladhiel blinked then tilted her head slightly in confusion. Boromir chuckled then continued. "You are like him in that way. You are quick minded and even in a tough spot you are quick to come up with a plan of action. You are observant of everything around you. I think you unknowingly recognized things about my brother that you can relate to and was able to paint a clear picture of him despite having never met him before. I think you and he would get along very well."

Síladhiel blushed and ducked her head so her hood would hide her warm cheeks. She had never been good with compliments and considering Boromir is the one praising her skills when he was the one who was adamantly against her going on this quest to start with was a bit much. "Erm. The sun is setting and we should probably get going. When do you think we will arrive at the Pelennor Fields?"

"We should arrive about midday tomorrow" Síladhiel nodded keeping her gaze downward to avoid looking at Boromir. Boromir chuckled and walked to Shadowfax who stood ready to depart. Síladhiel walked over and looked at him apologetically, knowing he did not really like the fact he is having to hide. "Just do it. I may not like it but it is what needs to be done." She took out her wand and waved it before tapping the top of his head before doing a different combination of swishes and he felt a tingle as if another spell settled on him. Likely, that notice-me-not spell she mentioned back in Rohan for extra security. Helping Síladhiel mount onto Shadowfax, he followed her and settled in behind her. She waited a bit before looking back at him in askance before giving the nudge to Shadowfax to head off once more after being told he was ready.

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later that night, Gandalf stands out on the balcony of their room while Pippin looks over the livery that had been delivered to him just moments before by another guard. He picks up the small sword that was brought with it and gulped before looking up towards Gandalf. "So I imagine this is just a ceremonial position. I mean, they don't actually expect me to do any fighting" Pippin looked back down and noticed the chainmail under the dark blue tunic that held the symbol of Gondor in the center then looked back at Gandalf, panic now entering his voice. "Do they?" Gandalf stood there scrapping out the old burnt pipe weed from his pipe with rough movements as if he was agitated while looking towards Mordor.

"You are in the service of the Steward now. You are going to have to do as you are told, Peregrin Took." Pippin noticed that Gandalf said the word steward with obvious annoyance. He could not blame the old wizard considering what he saw earlier that day.

Gandalf refills his pipe with the pipe weed and lights it while taking a huge puff of it to get it going only to choke on his pipe. Pippin stood as Gandalf started having a coughing fit and fills a cup of water for him before going over to the old wizard and handing it to him. Gandalf muttered softly. "Ridiculous Hobbit. 'Guard of the Citadel.'" Pippin smiled knowing Gandalf did not say it harshly but more as if it was a joke. He agreed. It was ridiculous, what could he do for this great city.

Gandalf looked down and smiled seeing the cup in the Hobbit's hands. "Thank you." Pippin smiled back before standing next to Gandalf to look out at the night sky but to his dismay there was no stars looking down at him.

"There are no more stars. Is it time?" It was not so much a question as it was a statement but it still came out as one. Gandalf sighed heavily beside him and his voice was a grave whisper.

"Yes."

"It is so quiet."

Gandalf glanced down at the Hobbit beside him and nodded before looking out towards the lower levels of the white city. "It is the deep breath before the plunge."

"I do not want to be in a battle, but waiting on the edge of one I cannot escape is even worse! Is there any hope, Gandalf? For Frodo and Sam?"

Gandalf was not surprised to hear the Hobbits words. Truth be told, he expected them much sooner. "There never was much hope. Just a fool's hope." Gandalf looked towards the red fiery glow of Mount Doom. His voice was hard as he spoke. "Our enemy is ready, his full strength gathers. Not only an army of orcs, but there are armies of men as well. Legions of Haradrim come from the South and cruel mercenaries from the coast. All those who are allied with Sauron will answer Mordor's call." Gandalf's gaze dulls as if he is seeing something else before him. "This will be the end of Gondor as we know it. Here the hammer stroke will fall the hardest. If the river is taken, if the garrison at Osgiliath falls, the last defense of this city will be gone."

"But we have the White Wizard. That has got to count for something, right Gandalf?" Pippin was trying to cheer up the Wizard beside him, but the grave look in the old man's eyes as he looked down at Pippin took away the small smile the Hobbit had.

"Sauron has yet to reveal his deadliest servant. The one who would lead Mordor's armies to war. The one they say no living man can kill, the Witch-King of Angmar." Just the name brought a cold chill down Pippin's spine and he looked away but Gandalf's inquiring tone caused him to look up. "You have met him before. He stabbed Frodo on Weathertop. He is the Lord of the Nazgûl, the greatest of the Nine. Minas Morgul is his lair." Seeing the defeated look on the Hobbits face, Gandalf placed a hand on his shoulder with a gentle squeeze. "However, someone rides towards Gondor as we speak that even the strongest of the Nazgûl will fear." Instantly light shinned in Pippin's eyes as he realized whom Gandalf was referring to.

"Síladhiel."

Suddenly the darkness before them was lit up with a tower of light. Light that looked poisonous and unnatural. Pure terror spread through Pippin at the sight. Below he could hear the screams of terror coming from the people of Minas Tirith. Pippin felt Gandalf's hand slip down from his shoulder into a small hug to bring the frightened Hobbit closer to his side as his eyes drifted towards the North where Síladhiel and Boromir will be soon arriving from the next day. "Try to get some sleep Pippin, I expect tomorrow will be a very eventful day."

The next morning, Gandalf wakes Pippin and places a finger to his lips, telling Pippin to remain silent. Nodding towards the door the Wizard leads Pippin out and into the city. Pippin looks at Gandalf with curiosity noticing it seemed as though the old wizard was walking with a purpose and a destination in mind. As they got closer towards the top of Minas Tirith, Gandalf spoke in a hushed tone.

"Peregrin Took, my lad, there is a task now to be done. Another opportunity for one of the Shire-folk to prove their great worth." Gandalf stops at a corner and looks up at a tower then nudges Pippin to look as well. It was a signal tower. Pippin eyed the stack of wood with the flame above it and recalled the conversation with the king of Rohan. The Beacons of Minas Tirith. "You must not fail me."

Pippin grinned and nodded as he headed towards the rocky cleft that led up to the tower, living up to the legend that hobbits can go unnoticed if they wanted to. Gandalf watched Pippin move but also kept an eye out for any guard that may suspect or will try to stop them. This city needed hope, and Hope he will give them.

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Author's Note: Hey all! sorry for the late update but I have been busy with life and trying to get a small business started. Seeing as tomorrow is my birthday, I thought I would pay tribute to our dear Hobbits by following a tradition of theirs. I am gifting my wonderful readers with a chapter for my birthday. I hope you enjoy the chapter!