Summary: Neither Prince Hal nor Hotspur believe in magic. Or in the existence of Elves. They are about to encounter both. A Shakespeare/Silmarillion crossover. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing from the worlds and words of Shakespeare or Tolkien, both of whom are authors to be revered. Shakespeare quotes, paraphrases, and allusions from multiple plays will be scattered throughout.

The Fourth of Seven

Chapter 5

Earnest winter weather followed them to Himring over the coming weeks, and well did that fortress uphold the meaning of its name: "the ever-cold." Temperatures plummeted to bitter depths, and the surrounding landscape turned white with windswept snow as far as even Elvish eyes could see.

During that time, Hal gleaned that Maglor, Celegorm, and Curufin all had, like Caranthir, been ousted from the lands over which they had ruled; and at length they had been obliged to take shelter beneath the wings of their eldest brother, who had received them with varying degrees of warmth. He also heard mentions in passing of Curufin's son, who was alive by all reports but strangely not present with his father.

Hal had taken to shamelessly avoiding Curufin in group gatherings and had managed never to be alone with him. For the Prince would rather spend time in private with harsh Caranthir than with his younger brother who appraised a man the way he would a lump of shapeless silver. Reputation rumored that Curufin was the most skilled craftsman among living Elves – and that his tongue was no less masterful than his hands. Hal feared any dialogue with him might produce words cleverly twisted to incriminate Hotspur or him in the eyes of their host.

Thus far, Maedhros had proven to be more generous and lenient than Caranthir, allowing his mysterious guests the freedom of movement he had promised. Looks of suspicion from watchful guards nevertheless followed their steps, but Hal supposed that was only prudent and grew quickly accustomed to it. After all, he and Percy harbored no ill intentions toward the Elves of Himring. If anything, his countryman grew openly more enamored of their prowess and splendor every day!

In fact, it became increasingly obvious to Hal that Hotspur, while a fearless leader of men in his own right, was himself drawn to confident, charismatic leadership – an influence previously wielded by his father and uncle, and now, it would seem, by Maedhros. It drove Hal to wonder if he could ever be such a magnetic leader that Hotspur would choose to follow him. He certainly aspired to be, for strong leadership was necessary to attract and retain strong followers. And what king would not covet soldiers such as Henry Percy?

It did not surprise him, therefore, when they were alone in their room one evening, and Hotspur abruptly declared, "I want to help them, Harry."

"Help them with what?" he replied, pretending he didn't already know.

"Have you not seen it all around us?" Percy pressed him. "There were similar signs in the South, but here it is even more obvious to me. The Elves are preparing for war – for an offensive strike, I wager, well beyond the common vigilance. Maedhros will lead them, and let my soul want mercy if I do not join with him!"

"You are quick to espouse their cause," Hal noted with reservation. "We still do not know the history of their war or the extent of their grievances against the Dark Lord."

"I do not need to know it. For what sort of man could gaze upon this Elf Prince and not swear his allegiance? I might have done so the moment I first set eyes on him, and I have thought of little else ever since. It is no shame to serve our betters, though it is a pity his brothers should be so disagreeable."

But Hal thought of Maglor and the faraway twins. "Not all of them."

"Enough of them," retorted Hotspur. "Even so, I am determined to offer Maedhros my service, Harry. Will you stand with me in this?"

To meddle in foreign wars would never be his preference, yet Hal could not evade a certain sense of inevitability. For his comrade was set in this course of action, and whilst they both remained in Beleriand, their paths would not diverge one from the other.

"Yea, Percy. I am with you."


They brought their resolution to Maedhros as soon as they could secure another audience with him and the other Elven royals.

"My lord, I do not like your brothers."

Fortunately, Percy's uncouth beginning did not unsettle Maedhros, who simply replied, "Few do, in truth."

A smile escaped Hotspur at that, though he quickly sobered again. "I know not what enterprise you undertake, but I am certain that you go shortly to battle. Our swords are strong to serve you in the days ahead, if you will have them."

The Lord of Himring waved his hand, dismissive. "We may have use for you tending to horses or supplies, unless you can give me reason to expect better."

"I am a man of action, my lord – a soldier proven in battle beyond my tender years! If you will not have me as such, then I entreat you withal to release me."

Curufin strode forward menacingly. "He will release you from your life."

"Then so be it!" Hotspur's blue eyes flashed. "For I would rather die crossing steel with immortals than live while they wage their wars without me. But by God, the strength of my arm just might prove equal to yours."

The crafty Elf at once laid hold of his sword, but Maedhros calmly intervened. "Stay your hand, Brother. I would we had more followers with his spirit. And do you say the same as he, Harry Plantagenet?"

Hal nodded his affirmation. "I do, my lord. Our hearts and fates are joined in this endeavor."

Maedhros smiled grimly. "Good, I do thereby accept your proffered service. But be warned: here we battle monsters as well as men, and Powers the likes of which you have not seen."

"My lord," Percy declared, undaunted, "we shall wear your colors proudly, and prove to you the valor of our English blood."

"I hope to find it so. In five months' time, the armies of the Noldor march jointly against our Enemy; you two will go beside me at the van."

"Wherefore at the van?" interrupted Caranthir angrily. "We have no shortage of mortal allies in this venture. Let them march with their own kind!"

"Their appearance in our lands is mysterious at best and treacherous at worst," Maedhros reasoned. "If they do intend some treason, I want to kill them myself."

And Hal knew he could do it, with or without his right hand.

Celegorm then remarked, half in jest, "Tis a pity Galadriel is not here, for she could read their thoughts to perceive if they speak truth or no."

"A pity she dwells in Doriath, where your name has become a curse!" Maedhros' rebuke came as sharp and swift as an arrow, a chastening to which Celegorm made no reply. They had clearly touched upon an important, sensitive topic to prompt such a fierce reaction from the eldest son of Fëanor, ignorant though Hal remained of the details.


"I am glad you did not fight any of them in anger," he confessed to Hotspur when they had left the assembly. "Else I should have found myself alone in this world after all."

The other man looked at him in surprise. "Would you not have been grateful for my death at their hands?"

"Indeed, Percy, I would not! For you are part of something dear that I have left behind and may never see again. I should lament your loss as I would mourn a friend." Hal had spoken without premeditation and was amazed to realize that he meant every word he said. It almost grieved him, then, that Percy appeared still to distrust him. "Even so, I do marvel that your temper hasn't gotten us both killed."

Hotspur snorted. "There is a chance of that yet, if I don't have someone to fight soon. Zounds, this inactivity is maddening! With a little good fortune, Maedhros will now allow us back on the training grounds."

Percy's hope was soon realized, and by the approval of their host, he began to spend ample time each day in the sparring arena. Hal would accompany him there at times, but not so frequently; and when he first picked up a sword of Elvish make, it was so light his arm scarcely felt the weight!

Yet the moment of greatest excitement occurred a couple of weeks later. The brothers had again gathered with them in the arena, and Hotspur issued an open challenge to any who would accept it. Hal could only grimace at his comrade's exuberance, knowing that someone's tender pride would be bruised regardless of how the contest fared.

Curufin volunteered first to be the mortal's sparring partner, but Caranthir would not hear of it, claiming, "I have been waiting three months for this."

"As have I," Percy countered eagerly.

Caranthir picked up a sparring sword, while insisting without care that Percy use his own sharp weapon from Britain. Young Hotspur did not object, and the fight began.

While the two combatants first maneuvered around each other, Maedhros came to stand alongside Hal and observed, "Your friend's fiery temper well becomes his company among my brethren. Honestly, I am surprised he has survived Caranthir's wrath all this while."

Hal smiled, thinking again of the twins. "I believe your youngest brothers are largely to thank for that mercy, my lord. But it seems to me you are very severe upon the rest of them."

"Would that I could be more so," the Elf confessed quietly. "I fear my hand is not always strong enough to stay their tempers."

Feeling bold now, Hal ventured in a whisper, "Might your father restrain them?"

Maedhros was silent for a long moment, his unblinking eyes staring straight ahead, until at last he replied, "While he lived, he encouraged them."

Meanwhile, in the ring, Caranthir had knocked Hotspur off his feet in a manner that would have been fatal in a true battle. He then waited patiently for his opponent to rise, and they resumed. Multiple times the scene repeated itself, and each time Hotspur stood to rejoin the contest with a broad smile on his face. At first Hal feared his countryman had gone mad – until he noticed that Caranthir's frustration rose every time Percy did.

Hotspur obviously didn't expect to win, given what he now knew of the Elves' skill, yet he gloried in the Prince's growing incredulity. Why did he come back again and again when he was so obviously outmatched? Caranthir's impatience soon grew to such that Celegorm enjoyed a hearty laugh at his expense, fueling Percy's dogged determination even further. Curufin merely watched the affair with a bemused little smile.

"Hold!" Maedhros finally called after Hotspur had lost his footing yet again. "No more of that now; remember, Caranthir, we will want him later."

The younger brother rolled his eyes and stalked off angrily, but Maglor assisted Percy to his feet with words of praise. "That was well done! You gave him a hard fight."

Hotspur nodded his appreciation, breathless and still grinning; Hal suspected the bard was being generously polite more than truthful.