Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all the characters belong to J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, and Scholastic, Inc., and AOL/ Time Warner, Inc., etc. No money is being made nor permission given.
Summary: Ten years ago, just after the war had ended, everything was settling down, and the world was turning right side up again, Harry Potter disappeared. Hermione had lost all hope of seeing her friend, when who should show up uninvited to her wedding party but two beautiful strangers with an interesting tale to tell. What path did Harry take that led him so far away from the wizarding world? And now that he is back, is he here to stay?
Pairings: Harry/Legolas; Hermione/ Ron
A/N: Here's my contributions to the seal! (winks at A Fan of Many Things)
A/N 2: And this really isn't beta'd well this time. I gave up after the hundredth run through of this chapter. Okay, maybe it was only like 20, but that's 17 too many!
Anyway, I hope you enjoy all the same.
* The Long Road *
…
Last time...
...
"Thank you for sharing your night with me," Legolas said with a gentle smile. "I will endeavour to return the favour and share more with you in turn soon."
"I look forward to it," Harry responded, softly disentangling his hand from Legolas' hold. "Shall we?" he gestured with his head to the other side of the camp where Aragorn had already started a small, well-contained fire, and was beginning to cook something that smelt rather delicious which Harry couldn't identify. It made him realise just how hungry he was. Living off of Ent Draught and Lembas Bread got old fast, and he was still a growing young man. Though he would admit that less than a week in the forest living off of just that had done more for him in the height department than six years worth of hearty Hogwarts food and Madam Pomfrey's many nutritional potions. Interesting, that.
Following his nose and stomach, Harry led Legolas over to a spot by the Ranger, who greeted them both with a smile.
"How fared the night?" he looked pointedly at both Harry and Legolas.
"Enlightening," Legolas answered as Harry replied, "Unexpected."
Laughing gruffly, Aragorn bid them to wait a few minutes while breakfast finished cooking, expecting the smell of the food to attract the hobbits and Gimli soon enough as well. They wouldn't have long to wait before they were back on the road and out of the forest once and for all.
A couple hours later after a hearty breakfast and a quick revision of the plan, the Company was catching first sight of the endless plains of the West Emnet at the borders of Fangorn.
Harry spared the dense branches one final glance, giving a silent promise to the forest that he would be back soon. He took a long sip from his water skin, recently filled to the brim with the savoury Ent Draught, and basked one last time in the comforting shade of the ancient trees before he stepped out into the brutal sunlight.
Edoras, here they come.
...
.
...
The trek across the green and golden plains of the West Emnet was rather uneventful.
That wasn't to say that the powers of Mordor had diminished, or that Sauron's forces were any less present. But word must have spread that Saruman was defeated and that a new power was in town because all manner of nasty beasties seemed to be steering clear of the area for now.
Legolas and Harry readily took advantage of this lull in their days to continue their conversation. This mainly involved Legolas entertaining Harry with countless stories from his youth. Though, the occasional relaxing silences were just as welcomed.
Surprisingly enough, though he hadn't had more than a handful of minutes to himself that were not in Legolas' constant company, or spent sleeping, Harry did not find it nearly as uncomfortable or smothering as he had expected. For while he didn't exactly encourage Legolas in his attentions, neither did he discourage the elf.
In fact, he found Legolas' stories rather interesting, if he were truly being honest with himself. And he was having, dare he say, fun with his elven companion.
At one point he had joked about Legolas being so comfortable in Fangorn. "I worry what your home must be like if you feel so at ease in an old, musty forest. Even Lord Celeborn had warned us of Fangorn, and Lothlórien elves live in trees! I shudder to think what," he paused looking at Legolas expectantly for the name of his home.
"Mirkwood," Legolas supplied with a playful glare. "We live in Mirkwood; a relatively young forest up north. And we Mirkwood elves live in a cavern close to the eastern edge of the woods."
"Ah!" Harry exclaimed dramatically with feigned wisdom, "Then I can see how Fangorn would be a welcomed bit of fresh air in comparison." He abruptly frowned in thought. "But I thought elves liked the outdoors and being one with Nature? From what I gathered so far, that is. I don't see how living in a cave fits with all that." He eyed Legolas speculatively in question.
"Mm," Legolas hummed abstrusely. "There was a time when all Silvan Elves lived in and around the trees in Great Greenwood – what Mirkwood was before," he added, not going into greater detail of what 'before' was. "But when my father came into power he wanted...more control, shall we say? And he didn't like his people being so spread out. So he expanded the Elvenking Halls, which are truly beautiful in their own right, and demanded everyone move in." Legolas shrugged. "That was before I was born. I didn't realise how things used to be until much later, but even knowing what I do now, I...I still love and respect my father." A shadow darkened the creases between his brows as his lips pursed together tightly and he ran a hand over his long knives that were sheathed at his side, moving in sync with him as he walked.
After a moment of respective silence, Harry offered, "I sort of know what you mean." His eyes flickered unseeingly to the washed-out sky above. "Not like I knew my parents, or anything, but," he trailed off and shook his head. "It's different, I know. I can't really compare. But in my own way I do know what you're talking about." He did still admire and respect Dumbledore even after knowing all that he did and admittedly didn't know about the man. He would forever think of the old headmaster as his mentor no matter what.
Legolas nodded. "I believe you. You don't have to explain yourself." Granting a small smile, Legolas added, "I know my father cares for me deeply, even if his attentions and rules can be somewhat stifling. All the same," he breathed in deeply, pushing his chest out and stiffening his spine in an act of steeling himself, "I am glad to be out from under his rule for the first time in my life."
Harry opened his mouth, and then froze. Had Legolas just implied...? Harry's hand drifted out and caught a long blade of grass, letting it slide between his fingers til the very tip as he continued walking without slowing his pace. "Wait," he said, "you're over two thousand years old and you've never stood up to your father? I mean," he backtracked, momentarily hopping on one leg as he scratched at his exposed ankle that itched from constantly rubbing up against the dried pastures, "I guess I don't have much experience to speak from, but that seems a little old to still be treated like a child."
"Well," Legolas turned to look at the hobbits talking in playful whispers up ahead, pushing each other gently as they laughed joyfully like the children they appeared. "I am still just a child in my father's eyes. Though it may seem old to you, I am still the youngest elf in Middle Earth."
"Really?" Harry exclaimed in surprise. That meant all other elves were older! And he had thought Legolas' age was something to balk at. How old was someone like Lady Galadriel or Lord Celeborn then?
Eager to change the subject, no doubt, Legolas began to tell Harry of the second youngest elf in Middle Earth, Arwen, with whom he swore he was close in age. She was the daughter of Lord Elrond, leader of Imlardis, or Rivendell as it was known to Men. And more importantly, at least in Harry's opinion, "...we were betrothed, unofficially that is, for centuries; set up by our fathers as a way to better connect our two kingdoms. And –"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Harry blanched, stopping short and refusing to go any further, waiting for Legolas to stop as well.
Legolas gave one last desperate look to the Fellowship, who were determinedly staying out of the discussion and keeping on course, before giving in and halting. Spinning in place, he turned to face Harry directly just in time to see his companion pushing his hands out towards him as though Harry could literally shove the words back into the elf's mouth.
"You're engaged!" Harry blurted out in consternation, ignoring Legolas' muttered correction of 'betrothed'. "How is it that you haven't told me this before? I'm not some kind of home wrecker! Not even some ridiculous prophecy will make me break up a centuries-long engagement!" What did Legolas think he was playing at telling Harry this now, completely out of the blue? "One minute you're telling me you accept the prophecy –"
"And I have complete faith in what you will become," Legolas interjected earnestly.
"—And that you'll stay by my side come hell or high water," Harry continued over Legolas' words, "But oh! You forgot to mention you're already engaged?" he cried incredulously. "Are you serious?"
Legolas purposefully relaxed his stance back and crossed his arms, breathing measuredly through his nose. Harry mirrored his pose, not sure if he was more upset or angry at the moment.
Finally, Legolas' shoulder shook uncontrollably as he tried to control a chuckle. "Home wrecker," he finally asked with a laughing smile that was none too appreciated. Harry couldn't understand how Legolas could be dismissing this so lightly!
"Yes!" Harry cried, affronted even as he felt his face heating up at his ridiculous choice of words. He sounded like Aunt Petunia and her friends after reading the latest celebrity scandal or talking about what Mrs Number Nine was doing with a married man several streets over.
Seeming to sense Harry's anger and frustration building even further, Legolas flung out his own hands this time and stumbled quickly over his words, "Alright. I- it's not what you think! You are jumping ahead of yourself without letting me finish," he said as placatingly as possible. "All arrangements were broken off several decades ago when Elrond's foster son, Estel, stole the heart of the Evenstar upon her return to Imlardis." At this point, he paused and turned his head exaggeratedly to Aragorn, who looked rather lost in thought leading the group up ahead, almost half a mile away now.
Looking back, Harry found himself on the receiving end of a pointed look from Legolas that made Harry drop his chin and shut his jaw with a click. "Aragorn," Harry said weightily after a moment, not sure himself if he was asking a question or making a statement. "Aragorn stole your fiancé?"
"Not exac-," Legolas dithered before making an open mouthed grimace. "Well, yes, I suppose. But strictly speaking it never did go beyond a blind betrothal." Legolas suddenly let loose a chuckle and gestured for Harry to start walking again, seeing how far they had fallen behind from the rest of the Company. After a moment of hesitation, seeing how much distance they had to make up, Harry obliged.
"My father probably would see it that way," Legolas offered with a tight-lipped smile as they fell back into sync with their steps. "King Thranduil," he said formally, "was utterly dismayed by the turn of events. Then of course there was the gossip among the Silvan Elves, my trip to Imlardis that was meant to take place the following spring was immediately cancelled, and father went back to concentrating solely on teaching me how to manage the kingdom and lead the people."
Harry swallowed and looked in slight apology at Legolas, who missed it as his gaze was stuck on something far off, his mind no doubt reliving the incidents he had briefly mentioned.
The two continued to walk in silence for several more minutes, catching up to their companions; both males contemplating the rise and fall of their feet, methodically traversing the plains in step with one another. Harry marvelled again at the similarities; same type of shoes, same material of leggings, though Harry was sporting the cropped style, and same cut of tunic. And yet Legolas had lived for thousands of years, honing his skills in archery and battling with his knives, while Harry had lived for a fraction of that time and relied solely on his magic. Harry was still a teenager, recently recognised as an adult wizard, and Legolas was already set on brining him into a world of ancient powers and colossal responsibilities, taking care of so many alien races in a world that was not Harry's own.
He honestly didn't even know where to begin. But he supposed getting Legolas to answer his questions about this latest soap opera of the immortals was as good as any.
Taking in half a breath, Harry raised his head and lifted his eyebrows until they were just beneath his fringe, "So," he started in, "no hard feelings between you and Aragorn," Harry asked sceptically. "I mean," he clarified at Legolas' questioning look at his choice of expression, "you and Aragorn were still friends after all that?" He hadn't seen Legolas and Aragorn treat each other as anything less than dear friends and close brothers, but that was rather a big betrayal, he would think.
"Oh," Legolas smiled in understanding. "Actually, we did not meet until after the fact. Aragorn came to Mirkwood to inform me and my father personally of Lady Arwen and Lord Elrond's wish to end the contract, feeling that it was his responsibility to do so. He even asked what reparations he could carry out to make amends.
Harry frowned and went back to examining his shoes. He was still so confused about the entire thing and the questions he had were only growing in number.
At length, he opened his mouth and let it hang there for a moment as he struggled to find the best words to voice his concern. Legolas, thankfully, continued to be patient and waited for him to speak.
"I – I don't...Arwen's an elf, right?" Legolas nodded. "And you're an elf?" Legolas nodded again good-naturedly. "And... Aragorn's not...right? I mean," he quickly tripped over his words before Legolas even had the chance to respond, "Not that he would have to be, I guess, it's just, I was, you know, wondering, I guess, if..." he shook his head looking disconcertedly down at the ground once more. Now that he had started the conversation, he realised that perhaps it was too soon to bring this particular issue up. Much too soon. "Never mind. You don't have to answer..."
"He's not," Legolas said somewhat uncomfortably, "but the entire affair and extenuating circumstances involved...it's not's my story to tell. You will have to hear it from Aragorn himself one day," Legolas declared, looking into the distance at his friend's stiffened back. Harry realised that with the Ranger's sharpened hearing, he no doubt knew exactly what he and Legolas were talking about, even as far away as he was. It made Harry feel a bit guilty that he had insisted upon discussing it with Aragorn so close.
But then again, Harry needed to hear this as well. He had a right to know that Legolas had once been engaged, alright, betrothed, and what had ended it.
"Anyway," Legolas pushed on with determined nonchalance. "I was not overly upset with the outcome, unlike my father. Arwen and I had not met, and I personally felt too young to be burdened with the thoughts of marriage so early in life. To be honest," Legolas lowered his voice as he bent his head closer to Harry's, causing Harry to inadvertently breathe in the elf's earthy scent, "I was rather relieved. I was never interested in Arwen or the idea of our marriage, not like my father had hoped."
Legolas straightened and squinted his eyes as though pondering something a bit deeper that was beyond even his impressive elven sight. "I think I must have known, even then, that I was waiting for something – no – for someone even better." He turned to smile at Harry with that joyous grin of his that held no ulterior motives other than the contentedness of being in Harry's presence.
Harry felt his face heat up under the elf's regard, but resolutely did not shy away from Legolas' stare, nor did he break their gaze. He might not be able to see where he was going or where he was putting his feet in the high stalks of grass that brushed against his sides, but it didn't quite matter at the moment. And luckily, Legolas wasn't expecting him to say anything in return anyway, which was just as well, as all words had completely dried up on Harry's tongue.
Belatedly, wearing a particularly delighted expression, Legolas picked up his story again and continued to share his history.
"Wait," Harry interrupted again, half taking in Legolas' story of climbing the highest tree at a tender age and getting reprimanded by his father, and half still caught up in the whole Arwen-thing.
Legolas turned expectantly to him and hummed to show his inquisitive attentiveness.
"How..." Harry trailed off. "I mean, you knew about this betrothal for centuries," he stressed the word, thinking of the number of marriages that had come and gone in that interval. The number of times any human would have fallen in and out of love, had children, died, and how many generations would have gone by. And yet Legolas had let countless moments pass, never having once met the one he was supposedly intended to spend the rest of eternity with. "For centuries! And you never even saw each other? Not once?"
Legolas shook his head abashedly, reaching up in what Harry had come to notice as a nervous gesture to run his fingers over the small plaits keeping his hair back on the sides of his head. "No," he admitted, his fingers running down to play with the ends of a golden strand, twirling it around his finger absently. "As the prince of Mirkwood there were always so many things to be done to keep the kingdom running. I –ah, I've never actually had the chance to leave the borders of my home. Not before coming to Imlardis for the first time to attend Elrond's meeting." He looked apprehensively at Harry, as though the wizard were about to pass judgment for Legolas' small scope of the world and lack of experience and knowledge beyond the borders of his own home.
A moment of self-conscious silence passed as Harry struggled to fit this new piece of information into his perception of Legolas, while Legolas waited for Harry to speak. Harry would have to admit, if only to himself, that this did help some in bringing Legolas down from the pedestal Harry had placed him on. Not that he had thought Legolas to be perfect; the elf's initial attitude and given impression of self-importance had shattered that from the beginning. But he had thought Legolas to be more travelled and knowledgeable, that much was for sure.
With a half shrug of his shoulders, Harry gave a lopsided grin and admitted, "I guess we're not that different after all. This is actually my first time out of the United Kingdom. My home, that is," he amended, knowing Legolas wouldn't know where he was talking about. "The only places I ever knew were Little Whinging, the Burrow, magical London, and Hogwarts. And that's not very much. Not really. I've never been off one island my entire life. And the world I'm from is huge," he gesticulated widely with his arms to make his point. "So," he tilted his head empathetically towards Legolas, "you know. I guess we're both seeing more beyond the boundaries of our comfort zones."
Returning the relieved smile Legolas sent his way, Harry asked, "So what made you finally leave home? I mean, I'm sure you could have sent someone else in your place to go to Imlardis, couldn't you?"
Legolas regained more of his confidence as he fell into the story of how he had volunteered to go due to the recent escape of a prisoner Aragorn had left in his care not months before.
It was considerably comforting to know the lengths Legolas would go for a friend, even one he had not known for very long, at least not in relation to the normal life span of an elf. Legolas definitely could have sent an envoy to represent him and his father, but instead he had personally let Aragorn and the council know of his people's blunder and had ended up participating in the devised solution more deeply than was probably expected of an elven prince. Harry wondered if Legolas had again acted for the sake of friendship, of duty to his people and Middle Earth, or if something else had aided in his decision – something to do with the fact that he would be meeting Harry along the way.
And for that matter, was Harry meant to be one of the Fellowship from the beginning, or was his main allegiance finding Legolas and stepping into his duties as Lone Warrior?
Harry shook his head, not wanting to waste his time worrying about events he could not change. Regardless, the whole ordeal certainly spoke to Legolas' character more than any of his past actions had, in Harry's opinion.
But those musings and commendations of Legolas aside, Harry grew quiet as he considered Legolas' account of Gollum. He remembered Frodo's description of the creature quite clearly, as well as Gollum's part in the Ring's history, and he had been surprised to hear how kindly Legolas' kinsmen had treated the prisoner. It reminded him, somewhat, of Hermione's insistence that he, Ron, and all the Order members treat Kreacher with respect, even after learning of Kreacher's part in Sirius' death. She had quoted some writer at the time – More, was his name? – citing that Kreacher was just acting in the manner that he had been taught, corrupted by those he had been forced to serve for years.
It made Harry wonder if Gollum was to be treated with that same approach, or if his actions could be construed entirely as his own, and thus punished in the same sense.
Normally, he wouldn't lose himself to such philosophical thought, but he knew the issue was a real one, and it was pressing. Gollum had been following them for a while now. Though the creature had avoided them in Lothlórien and had not even stepped foot in Fangorn, no doubt in an act of self-preservation, Harry had a sinking suspicion that Gollum was back on their trail. And they were now exposed, out in the open of the plains, making it all the more pertinent that he figure out just how close Gollum really was, and soon.
Later that night, once darkness had fallen and the Fellowship were readying themselves for sleep, Harry moved to a secluded spot to check the map. His suspicions were quickly proven correct when he located the dot labelled 'Gollum' following the Entwash just northeast of their position.
Harry looked up from where he was crouching on the edge of camp, just out of reach of the light from the small fire Aragorn had started. It was more like glowing embers anyway, with the Company not wanting to tempt fate more than they already had and attract unwanted trouble. The glowing kindle was more a small source of warmth than anything else, as outside of the forest, the fare was once again Lembas bread, water from the Entwash, and some Ent Draught.
Harry had been lucky enough to find the last source of Ent Draught before leaving the forest, in a small cove only his eyes had been able to discern as one of Treebeard's homes, and he had shamelessly helped himself, sharing with the Fellowship as well. He knew Treebeard would not mind, and it pained him to think of when he would get the chance to come back here again. Since then, he had used the drink sparingly, nestling it safely in the bottom of his bag, away from easy reach.
Now, chewing on a bit of jerky Treebeard had been kind enough to leave in his pack from the raid of Isengard, Harry sat against a large rock with the map in his lap, watching Legolas, Aragorn, and Gimli conferring together a few paces from the hobbits. Otherwise, the camp was quiet, with Frodo, Sam, Pippin, and Merry gathered tightly around the pseudo-fire in silence, taking in as much heat as possible. Though it was summer, the air here lacked the same warm humidity the hobbits were accustomed to living so close to the sea, and the drop in temperature at night still raised their flesh with chills.
Harry tapped two fingers against the edge of his ankle in a steady tattoo as he wrestled with the best way to catch Frodo's attention without notifying the others. He felt that this knowledge of Gollum's approach and the decision of what to do should rest solely with the hobbit.
Thankfully, the fates were with him as Frodo looked up moments later and immediately understood Harry's silent request for his presence.
Padding softly over to his friend, Frodo looked uncertainly behind him to see the rest of the Company still occupied with their own diversions, not sparing he or Harry a glance. Sighing with relief, Frodo took a seat at Harry's side, nudging the other's thigh as his eyes scanned the intricate map that was much less magical to his gaze and waited for the wizard to share what was so important that it needed Frodo's attention alone.
"Gollum is on our trail again," Harry whispered fervently, keeping his gaze alert to the others around them. He looked over at Frodo and saw the hobbit's resigned look. "I thought you'd like to know."
Frodo didn't ask how Harry knew this, or demand that Harry show him the proof of such an accusation. Instead, he asked, "How close?"
Harry grimaced. "Less than a day's journey. The forest kept him away for awhile, but he's caught our trail again and I fear it won't be long before he makes his presence known."
Both hobbit and wizard were silent for a moment in deep deliberation, letting the silence of the night swallow them whole.
"I," Frodo hesitated, looking back, away from the meagre source of light and out into the darkness, as though expecting to see a pair of shining green eyes in the distance, watching them. With a barely concealed shiver, he ploughed on, "I think we should wait until he makes his presence known. We will be in Edoras soon. With so many people, I doubt he would come out and make himself more vulnerable than he already is."
"Is he?" Harry quickly parried. Before Frodo could respond he pushed his point. "You do know his end goal is to make sure that you do not destroy the Ring? He may not have any physical weapon, but I don't want to underestimate him. I think he is more sly and resourceful than he is given credit for. I don't know what he'll do to protect his precious," he spat the word out, feeling vile as he recalled the creature's name for Frodo' burden, "but I think he will strike when we least expect it, in the most unpredictable way."
Frodo nodded, but whether he was agreeing or processing his friend's words, Harry wasn't sure.
"I could, you know, ehm," Harry looked back into the dark as well, tentative in even suggesting what was going through his head. But it all came down to protecting Frodo and the Fellowship in the end. "I could double back and —"
"No!" Frodo reached out desperately to grasp Harry's forearm with both hands, gripping with a strength Harry hadn't known the hobbit possessed. "Don't leave again, please!"
Harry opened and closed his mouth in quick succession, not quite expecting such an exuberant reaction from the young hobbit. Did Frodo fear that Harry wouldn't come back? He had come back last time, hadn't he? Just as he'd promised.
Eventually he spoke, ignoring the fact that they were suddenly the centre of attention due to Frodo's outburst. All he cared about at the moment was making Frodo see reason. Still, he lowered his voice despite the fact that all but Gimli would be able to hear him anyway with their sharp senses. "It would not be for long. But if he's a threat..."
In his periphery, Harry could see the group tense, but he kept his eyes on Frodo, adamant to keep the conversation between them.
Frodo seemed to be of the same mind and lowered his voice even softer than Harry's, much more successfully, to impart, "My thoughts were not far from yours when I first realised we were being followed in the mines. I," he hesitated, "I didn't share this with you in my initial account of the events thus far..." He didn't say why, but he didn't need to; Harry understood. "Gandalf warned me about the price of handing out judgement on other souls. It is not for us to say what should become of Gollum if we cannot know what we would have done in his situation. We do not know how he came to be what he is; the years and years of torture he was subjected to under the Ring's influence."
Frodo shook his head, switching his gaze from looking out into the dark that was an endless blur to locking his eyes with Harry's. "So no," he declared, conflicting emotions oscillating behind his eyes, which were shadowed by the moonless sky, masking his features almost completely. "I would rather wait for him to reveal himself before taking any direct action.
"He still has a part to play in all this. Gandalf was sure he still had a part to play in all this."
What he didn't say, but Harry also understood, was that Frodo would feel like he was letting Gandalf down if he let Harry eliminate the threat without trying to help Gollum first. Gandalf would be disappointed in the hobbit, or so Frodo thought. Harry didn't think it was his place to tell Frodo that no one would think any less of him. Frodo held more strength in his heart than all of the Fellowship combined, and his friends would back him up no matter what he decided to do.
Instead, Harry pursed his lips together in a frown of reluctant agreement. He would stand by his decision that Frodo's word was final, and perhaps Frodo and Gandalf were right about Gollum having a bigger part to play in all this. But that didn't necessarily mean Gollum's participation would be vital to the destruction of the Ring in the end. Nor that it would be a positive part he would play. But he didn't know anymore than anyone else, so he kept his peace, chary as he was about using any of his newly received skills to dispose of another soul so carelessly
Still, he had a horrible feeling that they would come to regret Frodo's decision. He could only hope that his worries would never come to pass.
Offering Frodo a piece of jerky in truce, Harry rolled to his feet and walked off a bit, wordlessly calling for first shift that night.
It wasn't until several hours later when Aragorn came up to him and pushed him towards his pack for a bit of rest that Harry allowed himself to relax. What would come would come, and they would meet it head-on when it did.
He closed his eyes that night to dreams of him, Ron, Hermione, the twins, his Gryffindor dorm mates, and the Fellowship lounging around together on the shores of the Black Lake. The imposing castle that was Hogwarts stood protectively in the near distance as a light conversation, none of which Harry was paying any attention to, fell and rose in gentle crescendos around him. At his side, sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest, was Frodo, looking mesmerised by the Giant Squid farther out in the lake, lazily sunning itself.
Harry smiled at his friend before something tugged his vision to the side. Across the grounds, past Hagrid's hut and into the Forbidden Forest, he could see two pairs of shining, bulbous eyes gleaming out from the darkness, staring unblinkingly at a point next to Harry.
Turning his head to follow the creature's gaze, Harry looked to see Frodo staring straight at him.
"He's here."
...
The next day, Harry was plagued with thoughts of odd dreams from the night before, coming in bits and pieces of clarity, but always slipping from his grasp when he tried to remember more. He didn't think it was really important, just a manifestation of his worries that he couldn't control, but he didn't like how it left him feeling so tired.
There was no conversation that morning as a tension had settled over the Fellowship, a mix of uncertainty, anxiety, and restlessness. This would be their fourth day since leaving the forest's shade and they were bound to reach Edoras by the time the sun had reached its zenith in the sky. What they would find there, though, was another story entirely.
Around midday, Legolas was the first to catch sight of the small cavalry, thundering across the flat plains towards the Company, riding out to meet them. Éomer, Legolas recognised, was spearheading the group.
"Something is not right," Legolas said softly, calling for a halt as the Rohirrim drew closer and were visible to the rest of the group as well. "Be on your guard," he warned, but refused to say more.
With a dark, foreboding feeling that seemed only a further extension of his fears from last night, Harry waited restlessly for the ineluctable moment when their paths would meet. As Legolas and Aragorn started to gravitate more towards the front in preparation of greeting the riders, Harry found himself drifting towards the back behind Sam and Frodo.
All too soon, the men of Rohan pulled to a stop before them and formed a short line in front of the Fellowship that barred them from moving any farther. Éomer immediately dismounted and made his way towards Aragorn, who stepped forward to receive him with Legolas only a step behind.
The Ranger pounded his breast with one hand in acknowledgement, which Éomer returned, and then the two warriors gripped each other's forearms and shook in greeting.
"Marshall," Aragorn addressed, "We are here to pay our respects to your king and retrieve our friend. How do things fare in the admirable capital of Edoras?"
"Not well," Éomer sighed heavily as he removed his helmet. "King Théoden is dead."
A stunned silence descended over the group.
Aragorn bowed his head in mourning, making a strange symbol with the back of his thumb across his forehead and the bridge of his nose, and then laid the side of his left hand against his lips and closed his eyes in reverence, an action which was quickly copied by Legolas. Lifting his head once more, he looked with haunted eyes in commiserated grief to Éomer and enquired, "When did this come to pass?"
"Six days ago, not long after our paths crossed," Éomer answered heavily. "If what you say of the wizard's defeat is true," he looked to Aragorn's confirming nod with a grimace, "then it would seem that Wormtongue and Saruman," he spit the names with unadulterated contempt, "had a stronger hold on him than his mind and body were able to handle." He looked out into the distance in the direction the Fellowship had come and narrowed his eyes darkly.
"He passed less than a week after his son," Éomer added softly, his mind elsewhere for a moment in mourning for his kin.
"An uncle and a brother," Aragorn muttered in shock, bowing his head once more and repeating the earlier gesture of honouring the dead, mirrored once more by Legolas.
Harry, however, didn't even take note of the peculiar ritual this time as he had instantly recoiled at the news.
It wasn't hard to do the math; the king had died the same day Harry had defeated Saruman. Éomer's words had said it all; the king hadn't survived Saruman's death. The wizard's hold had been so strong on the man that his death, instead of breaking the spell on Théoden, had killed him.
Saruman's influence had brought about the death of not just one soul within the royal family, but two. And it made Harry feel responsible for both.
"That must have left a void in the kingdom," Aragorn started. "The people were no doubt relieved when you –"
"There is more," Éomer interrupted abruptly, scanning his eyes over the Fellowship, which had noticeably grown in numbers since he'd last seen them. "As my sister has informed me, they brought your Gondorian man in a day after we met, the day our king died," he said in subdued tones. "But he is no longer within Edoras."
"What do you mean? What have you done with him?" Gimli cried, pushing himself up to stand between Legolas and Aragorn so that he could level a more threatening glare upon the leader of Rohan's riders. "I knew we shouldn't have trusted this filth, Aragorn! Who knows what these backcountry horse people are capable of?"
Legolas forcefully shoved Gimli behind him and stood in his way before the dwarf could move again. "Gimli, my friend," he hissed over his shoulder warningly, "hold your tongue. You know not whom you accuse."
Gimli growled and made a face to show his malcontent, glaring through Legolas' back as though the heat of his stare could reach Éomer and burn him where he stood. But he made no move to act further and otherwise kept his lips sealed, heeding his friend's warning.
"Please accept my apologies," Aragorn said quickly, hands out in front of him in a pacifying gesture as he hastened to soothe over Gimli's harsh words.
Harry had soon learned that some of the dwarf's irascibility had been due to the pain from wounds sustained at the hands of the Uruk-Hai. Though the Ent waters had helped heal the Fellowship, Harry knew that Gimli had refused to completely accept the healing components of the water and was still suffering a bit from his injuries. It had pulled on some of Harry's sympathies, enough at least to cancel the Silencing Charm once they were out of the woods, literally. And he had since done his best to just stay out of the dwarf's way. But it certainly hadn't been enough to truly endear the dwarf to Harry in any way.
It certainly didn't help that Gimli still shot him glares whenever he was talking with, walking near, or even looking in Legolas' direction, and vice versa, which just happened to be nearly all the time now. Legolas had made it a point to begin taking his meals near Harry, which also extended to lying beside wherever Harry chose to place his bedroll for the night.
But Harry pushed aside those thoughts for now, and listened as Aragorn spoke with soothing words of diplomacy to Éomer while the rest of the Company held their collective breath, awaiting the man's final judgement.
"I assure you that we are only anxious to see our friend after so long," Aragorn concluded, "but bear you no ill will or blame. Nor do we mean to imply that you are capable of deceit. I am sure there is a fine explanation for the course of events that have unfolded outside of our knowledge."
Éomer glared heatedly at Gimli, or at what little he could see of the dwarf behind Legolas, but did not seem to take offence in the assumption that Gimli spoke for the whole Company or his hero Thorongil. No, Éomer's anger was directed solely at the dwarf alone, almost as though he had been aching for the chance to let loose some pent up rage at a hitherto unnamed irritation. And he more than made these sentiments known with his next words.
"All but the dwarf are welcomed into the halls of Edoras where circumstances shall be made clear. If it helps," his features softened as he turned back to Aragorn, "I do not believe your friend to be in any harm; at least no more than he knowingly puts himself in."
Aragorn gave a short nod in thanks and then proceeded to bargain tactfully with the young man, eventually compromising for Gimli to stay within the village while they met in Meduseld. Despite his duty to all those in the Company, Aragorn no doubt sensed that Éomer would not yield in this instance. And no one could truly blame the young man. Éomer may be a very principled warrior, but Gimli was lucky Éomer did not push for an honour duel. Éomer's respect for Aragorn was obviously greater than any of the Fellowship had realised to ignore such a slight on his person and his people without further retaliation.
From where Harry stood, he could see fiery steel in the Éomer's eyes that spoke of pain, loss, and resentment. He was nothing but respectful when addressing Aragorn, but the moment his eyes turned elsewhere, they deadened. Harry found that he was not surprised that Éomer had snapped at Gimli in the way he had. He, Harry, had said much worse things in the wake of profound loss and outrageous anger.
Watching Éomer wrestle with that pain and fight to keep a polite façade just served to deepen Harry's guilt as he waited for the negotiations to be done. Even here his actions, or lack of information and full appraisal of the situation were hurting others. If he had known of the king's possession could he have done something different to help save the man before making his final move against Saruman?
He guessed he would never truly know, but he understood that it would forever haunt him as yet another 'what if' in his life.
Sighing despondently, Harry kept his eyes on Éomer as the warrior gestured to the spare horses that had been brought for the Company's purpose. Only five apparently could be spared, but it was a nonissue anyway, seeing as the hobbits could not ride on their own.
Harry moved to help Frodo up onto the saddle first, and then climbed up behind him, while Aragorn did the same with Sam. Gimli sidled up to Legolas and grudgingly allowed the elf to help him mount the beast. Nearby, Pippin and Merry were aided onto a saddle by Éomer's men, who would lead the hobbits' horse behind their own. From there, the disparate group rode unhurriedly to the village of Edoras in silence, broken only by the shifting of leather, clanking of stirrups, and soft sounds of the horses breathing. For many of them, including Harry and the hobbits, it was their first time riding a horse. But the excitement of the moment was dampened by the stilted atmosphere, with tensions running high and tempers wearing thin.
In the space of the hour or so that it took to reach the nation's capital, Harry drew further and further into himself until even despite the enforced silence, Frodo could tell something was wrong. Surrounded by Éomer's men, though, the hobbit waited until they were all dismounting by the stables to turn and look at the wizard with a gimlet eye.
"Are you well, Harry?" he all but demanded in concern as Harry helped him back down to the ground.
"Fine," Harry replied jerkily, handing the reigns to a stable hand. Absently brushing Frodo aside, he moved quickly between the men towards Aragorn. "I'll stay with Gimli while you meet in the hall," he volunteered once Aragorn's attention was on him. Harry's face was unreadable as he squared his shoulders, not sure whether he should prepare for an argument or not. Though Aragorn was the unspoken appointed leader of the group, all of the members of the Fellowship, including Harry, held their own measure of autonomy; Harry especially so, being not only late to join the Company, but his recent defeat of Saruman speaking volumes for the level of respect and esteem he now received from the others.
Still, Harry wasn't entirely prepared when Aragorn's piercing stare immediately challenged his own.
He didn't know how, but Harry was under the distinct impression that Aragorn had at least some skills in Legilimency. Perhaps it was just that the man was an excellent judge of character, mixed with an almost supernatural sixth sense and intuition. He seemed to deduce the problem almost immediately, and Harry was a little unnerved when instead of disagreeing, Aragorn gently laid a hand on Harry's shoulder and said, "You could not have known the extending consequences of your actions."
Harry blinked and started to shake his head, attempting to deny Aragorn's rather accurate interpretation of Harry's offer, but the older man kept speaking in that same, strong, quieting tone. "You did the right thing," he insisted, "which can sometimes be more of a burden than a reward. But never doubt yourself no matter what people will say in the heat of the moment. Their words are borne from their own ignorance and misunderstanding," he stressed. "You should never stop doing what is right, even if it is not always easy," he cautioned, not realising just how similar he sounded to a certain beloved headmaster in that moment.
"You have nothing to be ashamed of here," Aragorn affirmed, and then paused with a resigned look in his eyes. "However, if you think it the best course of action to stay away for now, then I will not stop you. Some wounds are better left for time to heal, where the wisest choice is to not irritate them, even with the best of intentions."
Frodo, who had managed to follow Harry and hear the majority of the discussion, gave his own show of support. "I will stay out here with you, Harry."
"No," Harry quickly turned to regard the hobbit, "No," he added more gently, "you need to be my eyes and ears in there to report back all that was said and revealed. Can you do that for me?"
It was important that the Ring Bearer be present for this meeting, whether the Rohirrim realised his significance or not. Frodo was the face of it all, the one the Fellowship rallied around, even if he was not yet fully aware of that fact. Harry could not be selfish and monopolise his friend's time and company. As such, he was rather relieved when Frodo nodded earnestly, visibly determined to make Harry proud. "I will."
Harry bestowed him with a smile and gently pushed him in the direction of where the remaining group had gathered at the bottom of the stone steps leading up the hill to a grand building at the top, its roof shining like spun gold under the sun's rays. It was clear that it was built to last and stand proud over all of Rohan, even if the architecture was not as elegant or elaborate as other places Harry had seen in Middle Earth. It certainly had nothing on Hogwarts either, but compared to the worn down huts scattered throughout the village, it looked grand.
Aragorn spared Harry one last parting glance and then followed Frodo, eventually making his way to Éomer's side at the front once more.
"Come," Éomer gestured up ahead towards the Golden Hall. "Éowyn is eager to meet you all."
Harry watched silently as the Company followed the marshal and his four guardsmen up the stairs. A few steps up, however, Legolas suddenly turned from Aragorn's side and began looking around for Harry. Quickly finding him several steps away from Gimli, not moving, Legolas made to go back down, but from the step above Aragorn's hand shot out to land on his shoulder, holding him in place. Leaning down, Aragorn spoke swiftly in his friend's ear.
Legolas nodded a moment later and patted Aragorn's hand in understanding and thanks, but didn't let his gaze leave Harry's.
The last few days spent in Legolas' almost constant company had certainly been enlightening for Harry. He no longer shied from Legolas' stare, unless it lingered for too long or became too intense. But he hadn't truly realised until that moment, just how much more comfortable he had become with the elf.
It must have happened somewhere between shaking his hand five days ago and learning more about Legolas' life over the course of their journey since. It had been an enjoyable last couple of days and Harry was grateful to the elf for all that he had shared. Nonetheless, something must have deepened their bond during that time for when Legolas looked down at him from the steps leading to Meduseld, a whisper passed through his mind. And before he knew what was happening, Harry was reopening their mental connection from the battle with Saruman, welcoming Legolas into his head once again.
The intensity of their minds melding for the second time was staggering, especially since they were not in the middle of a dangerous, overwhelming situation this time and Harry was much more aware of Legolas' presence alone, filling spaces in his head that he hadn't known existed before now. Or rather, he hadn't had the time to acknowledge them when last Legolas' conscience had fused with his own.
It was rather similar to the magical high he got when executing a powerful spell, and Harry just let it happen, feeling not even the slightest need to resist something that put him at such ease.
Before he had too much time to dwell on it, and become even slightly self-conscious or worried about how close this was bringing them after he had specifically set boundaries against rushing such things, Legolas' voice echoed softly in his mind.
'I will be your eyes and ears.'
And then, just as quickly as the connection had been completed, Harry was suddenly experiencing the world through Legolas' senses, turning and mounting the steps several paces behind Aragorn, making their way towards Meduseld, with Harry along for the ride.
Part of him was still aware of where his body was, standing a little more than two metres from Gimli, who was staring at him oddly as Harry perfected a somewhat blank stare looking out into nothing. A few curious villagers and the guards at the foot of the stairs surrounded them both, but Harry paid none of them any mind as he focused the majority of his attentions on Legolas and what they were seeing together. Harry knew that he looked odd enough in his elven clothes, his long hair from the months he had gone without properly cutting it while on the run from Voldemort and then roughing it in this world without even the usual wizarding amenities, and that wasn't mentioning the fact that he could now match these proud people in height and stature thanks to the miraculous waters of the Ent Draught. Still, it was obvious he didn't really fit in here, or anywhere on Middle Earth, to be honest. But luckily the people's wariness of him would work in his favour this time, and he wouldn't have to worry about anyone approaching him while he was focused on the world through Legolas' purview.
All too soon, 'they' were walking through the great wooden doors to Meduseld Hall.
Immediately upon entering the dimly lit building, the smell of worn wood and stale hay assaulted their shared senses, which were a bit sharper and more poignant than Harry was used to. Involuntarily, he took in a breath of fresh air around him, only to find it just as stale, though in different ways. Needless to say, it didn't help much and only served to garner him more odd looks as he appeared to be almost suffocating on nothing more than the wind.
Regaining his breath and concentrating on his connection with Legolas, Harry returned his attentiveness to their collective awareness just in time to see Legolas take his place at the front at Aragorn's side. There, at the open doorway, everyone's eyes, including Legolas', were on the throne at the very back of the room. Upon the gilded wooden seat that was draped in furs and decorated with elaborate scrolls and depictions of regal horses at plays, sat a woman.
She was seated imposingly; tall, like that of her people, with long, flowing blonde hair that seemed to be a golden extension of the large crown resting somewhat awkwardly atop her small head. It was obvious the coronal headpiece was made to be worn by a man; bulky and imposing, not fit for her lithe frame. But she wore it with grace nonetheless.
Similarly, the crimson furs that decorated the throne looked like they might swallow her whole where she sat, contrasting sharply with her pale complexion, and lending little colour to her cheeks and lips. Yet she seemed to possess a natural beauty and strength about her that was communicated effortlessly in the way she held herself; head high, shoulders back. There was a quiet intensity to her grey eyes – much duller than Legolas', but containing a mystery all of their own that made Harry look twice. To finish the look, she wore a wine coloured dress with a golden embroidered bodice that had nothing on elven garments, but was striking all the same, and spoke of the royalty of a queen.
"Welcome to Edoras," the woman smiled, her voice soft yet strong, opening her arms and standing to greet the Fellowship, shaking them from their surprised stupor. "I am Queen Éowyn, Shieldmaiden of Rohan; and who is it that I may address before me?"
...
...
A/N: So, how was that?
The chapter doubled yet again as I edited/fleshed it out...and...well, I had to cut it in half again. Hope you don't mind.
Also, I was rather curious; did anyone get the poorly veiled art reference in the last chapter, or am I just a big time geek?
Oh, and shout out to nightquills for being the first person to know where my little skit from chapter 21 came from before me revealing it! 'Where yo boyfriend at?!'
Pheonix-hallows: Since I can't respond to you in a PM/reply, I'll say here, thank you for following the story so religiously. I honestly can't believe you've read it multiple times. Part of me still wonders why anyone is wasting their time still reading this at all!
But regardless, I hope I answered some of your questions with this chapter. And please keep asking them and pushing me for the next update. I'll do my best to keep you interested and wanting more.
That of course goes to everyone! All my lovely readers, new and old, who still have faith in this story, thank you! Very, very much!
And...I have a question for you all again:
So, now that we're further into the story and more has happened, are the frequent trips back to the future that were in the beginning of the story still annoying, or does it all fit now? Please share with me your honest opinion. I want to know for possible improvements in the future. If you would be so kind...
Thanks!
Otherwise, I will not bore you with unnecessary words that have no relation to the story. Continue on with your lovely lives! ;)