Shadow of a Doubt
Chapter Sixteen: Warning
by Capella
A/N: The plot is finally going to pick up again! And all will be revealed...kind of. I figured since the last chapter was totally bereft of any plot and was put in there to ease the angst, I should most likely start moving the story along again.
I really want to thank the reviewers again. After that last, rushed posting, where I spent about a half hour on the entire chapter (bleh), I was so happy to get some of those reviews - specifically, the ones that told me not to rush my chapters. Thank you guys for being honest and telling me when my tone is sounding too stilted and forced. I want to make this fic as good as I can, not rushed. So I hope you guys don't mind if it takes me a little bit to churn out my chapters. Thank you all again! you're lovely :)
I realize that lots of this is stuff from the book, but it's unavoidable - I can't go through and NOT put it in there, you know. I hate it though I feel so uncreative when I have to do this.
Well, after much ado about nothing, here is chapter sixteen. I appretiate your reviews - ie, leave some more! :D Sorry if this chapter is just a bit squicky. NOTHING will develop between Gandalf and Harry - it's just a plot device.
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Red fog...why did that seem so familiar?
As the sun set on their last day at Orthanc, the strange, misty fog covering Isengard was lit with the bright red light of the setting sun. Harry reached out a hand, watching as the fog swirled around it, and wondered why the redness made him think of home.
"Harry, will you come?"
Harry turned in the direction of the voice, and saw Legolas standing impatiently next to Arod. The others, Gandalf on Shadowfax with Merry, and Aragorn with Pippin, had already left a few minutes earlier. Harry shook his head.
"Theoden lent me another horse, Legolas, so that Gimli could ride with you. He didn't want to ride by himself." Harry stroked the flank of the jet black mare standing calmly next to him, and she whickered softly in contentment. Legolas didn't look any less displeased except in the set of his mouth, which tightened momentarily. Harry grinned, walking over to Legolas and leaning up to give him a small kiss. "It's only for a little bit, Legolas. You'll survive." He swung up onto his horse with only a little bit of trouble and motioned for Legolas to do the same.
"I have to find that dwarf first," Legolas said, eyes unreadable, and turned to do exactly that. Shrugging at the abrupt mood swing, Harry dug his heels into the mare's side and they sped off into the fog. After close to a half hour of riding, he heard the pounding hoofbeats of Arod catching up to his horse and looked to the side, catching Legolas's smile as Arod raced past.
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Night swallowed the valley slowly, the faint mist clearing up in a heartbeat. They rode on with the River Isen at their side, sometimes near, sometimes far away as it meandered through the land. Harry couldn't stop yawning. He was afraid that he was going to fall off his horse.
Finally they stopped for the night, They made camp in a small hollow in a glen, down in the roots of a huge hawthorn. Gimli and Aragorn took first watch while the others ate supper. Harry sat on an old branch and stared at his feet, good mood from earlier dissapated. He glanced over and caught Gandalf's eye, and he could swear he saw a glimmer of guilt there. Gandalf looked back at the campfire.
Harry got up and moved to sit next to the wizard, staring into the crackling flames as well as he spoke. "If you know anything at all, Gandalf, just - tell me. Please." He looked away from the fire and into the old, wizened face, hoping to find some clue there. "I need to know what's happening to me."
"If I tell you, I will not keep anything from you. Anything. Some of this might be...hard for you to take." The wizard let out a large sigh and continued.
"I do not know what ruled your world, but here we have one god, Eru. He made his children, the Valar, to create our world. The Valar came to Arda with their servants, called the Maia. They fashioned the world, but had much trouble from an evil Valar and his servants. Sauron is one of that Maiar's servants, perverted to darkness, as are the Balrogs. To counter this evil, the Valar sent the Istari, the wizards, to Middle-Earth. We are Maiar in the shape of men, to help the races in times of need. This is where our sorcery comes from.
"However, when you came to Middle-earth, something went wrong. I had been wondering for some time how you managed to use magic while in our world, as you are not an Istari by any means. But then I saw the Imperial mark on your head and now the sign of the Maiar, and everything fits."
Harry frowned. "Everything doesn't fit for me, Gandalf. I don't get what you're saying. The history of Middle-Earth doesn't explain what's happening to me."
"Haven't you wondered why you are able to do magic here? It is not by some stroke of luck. And haven't you thought about how you can possibly know these things that you cannot possibly know? You..are an Istari, Harry."
"What the hell -"
"Peace, for a moment, please," Gandalf said quickly, holding up a hand. "You must understand. You are not the only one inhabiting your body right now.
"When you came to this world, by some force that I still do not know, it is my understanding that one of the Maiar was drawn into your body by both your mark and the mere fact that you believed you could do magic. It is not so much that you could do magic but that you knew you could, and this forced the Maiar spirit into your body."
Harry shook his head, disbelieving.
"The shock of having such a powerful spirit with your own in sending your body into a collapse - it will not last much longer. You will not last more than a month."
Harry finally found his voice again. "If your almighty gods are so powerful then why can't they get this spirit out of my body?" he shouted, but lowered his voice at a quick gesture from Gandalf. "Why can't they make it leave before it - it kills me?"
Gandalf exhaled. "I cannot answer that question, Harry. Nor maybe will I ever be able to." Suddenly the wizard looked down into Harry's eyes, and his eyes weren't those of an old man. They were eyes much more beautiful, a shining purple, and his visage flashed that of a beautiful man, his age impossible to tell. The god reached up a shaking, smooth hand and touched Harry's cheek.
"Please, Eonwe," the smooth tenor voice said, trembling. Harry reached his hand up and placed it over the other's.
"Olorin," he said simply, and a sudden feeling of love hit him. He closed his eyes and took Olorin's hand in his own. "You left too suddenly, I -" and then it was over.
He dropped Gandalf's hand, shocked and scared. Gandalf's now blue eyes were filled with grief and sadness. "You see what I mean now, Harry."
Harry nodded numbly and without another word got up, going to a corner of the hollow and wrapping himself up in his warm cotton cloak. He tried his hardest to go to sleep, but haunting violet eyes followed him even there, and his dreams were troubled.
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The soft cry that escaped Harry's throat as he woke was drowned out by a shrill shriek from the other side of the camp. Harry leapt up, nameless fear in his mind, that something had found them and come for him. He heard voices, Gandalf's voice and Pippin's, and relieved, he crept silently toward where they were talking. He lay quietly behind one of the hawthorns' large roots, peeking over it and looking to where Gandalf knelt by Pippin's shocked form.
"They are not for you, Saruman!" the little hobbit cried in a toneless voice. "I will send for both of them at once. Do you understand? Say just that!"
Gandalf held the hobbit down as Pippin attempted to get up and escape. Harry frowned, totally confused. "Peregrin Took! Come back!"
"Gandalf," Pippin said, back to his senses. "Gandalf, forgive me!"
"Forgive you? Tell me first what you have done!"
Pippin looked scared. "I took the ball and looked in it, and I saw things that frightened me. And I wanted to go away, but I couldn't. And then he came and questioned me; and he looked at me, and that is all I remember."
"That won't do. What did you see, and what did you say?"
Harry leaned a bit forward to catch Pippin's muttered words. He noticed the pained expression on Merry's face as he inadvertantly turned toward's Harry's hiding spot in grief.
"I saw a dark sky, and tall battlements," Pippin began. "It seemed very far away and long ago, yet hard and clear. Then the stars went in and out--they were cut off by things with wings. Very big, I think, really; but in the glass they looked like bats wheeling round the tower. One began to fly straight towards me, getting bigger and bigger. It had a horrible-no, no! I can't say."
"I tried to get away, because I thought it would fly out; but when it had covered the glass, it disappeared. Then *he* came. He did not speak so that I could hear words. He just looked, and I understood.
" 'So you have come back? Why have you neglected to report for so long?'
"I didn't answer. He said: "Who are you?" I still didn't answer, but it hurt horribly, and he pressed me, so I said: "A hobbit."
"Then suddenly he seemed to see me, and he laughed at me. It was cruel. It was like being stabbed with knives. I struggled. But he said: "Wait a moment! We shall meet again soon. Tell Sauruman that this dainty, and the boy, are not for him. I will send for both at once. Do you understand? Say just that!"
Harry shivered, rubbing his arms as goosebumps broke out everywhere. He knew with sudden clarity that he was the boy that Sauron had been speaking of. Morgoth. Melkor. I...
Blinking, Harry realized that he had lost Pippin's train of thought. Gandalf was carrying Pippin back to his bed. Predictibly, Merry followed and laid down beside the other hobbit. Whatever Gandalf said was lost to Harry's ears. Melkor. He knew not how I--
The cold wind picked up and swirled Harry's hair into his face and whipping his cloak around him. He started violently at the pair of arms that suddently encircled his waist, but just as quickly relaxed into Legolas's warm embrace. "I don't want to be alone," he whispered. Legolas kissed the top of his head, offering silent comfort.
"I know," he replied.
Harry was about to say something, anything, whatever he had to do to make the other conciousness that was hovering on the edge of his own leave when as quick as lightening fear flashed across his mind. He threw up his hands and cried out, dropping to a crouch on the ground.
"Christ!" Harry whispered as the shadow of fear left, and felt Legolas pull him to his feet.
"Nazgul," he said urgently, tugging Harry in the direction of Arod and Harry's mare. "We must leave quickly!" Everyone was mounted or getting ready to do so, and the King and Aragorn were on their horses conversing quietly.
Dazedly Harry mounted his horse, who followed Arod and Legolas without any help from Harry. He clung on in a stupor, a strange fog decended over his vision as he fought for his sanity. For a moment his own spirit receded, giving way to the more powerful one inside him. For a moment his eyes shone eerily silver, then it was pushed back and he was Harry again.
They had not ridden long when a Rider went to the front with a message for Aragorn and the King that made them stop and turn back. Harry reigned in his horse and turned her around, trotting to Legolas's side and swaying slighty in his saddle.
A lone figure walked out of the darkness and into the circle of horsemen, his face shadowed.
"Halt! Who rides in Rohan?" cried Eomer loudly.
"Rohan?" said the man, in a clear voice. "Rohan, did you say? That is a glad word. We seek your land in haste."
"You've found it. When you crossed the fords, you entered it, but it is the realm of Theoden King. None ride here save by his leave. Who are you? And what is your haste?"
"Halbarad Dunedan, Ranger of the North I am. We seek Aragorn son of Arathorn, and we heard he was in Rohan."
Aragorn smiled. "And you have found him also!" He ran forward and embraced Halbarad tightly to the suprise of all. "Of all joys this is the least expected! All is well," he continued, turning back to Theoden. "Here are some of my own kin."
"Thirty at least, but that is all of our kindred that could be gathered. Elladan and Elrohir have also ridden with us. We rode as swiftly as we might when your summons came."
Aragorn paused. "I did not summon you, save only in wish," he said slowly. "I sent no word. But come! All such matters must wait. Ride with us now, if the king will give us his leave."
Theoden did, gracefully, and the party of now both Dunedain and Riders mounted their steeds and continued the journey to Edoras. Harry was slouched in his saddle, riding next to Legolas. He felt himself nodding off several times during the journey, but each time the fear of that spirit inside him taking over while he slept kept him awake. The sun was right below the horizon when they rode up at last from the Deeping Coomb to the Hornburg, There, Aragorn said they would rest briefly and take counsel.
Harry didn't know when he had fallen asleep that night, but only knew that in the morning he was woken from a restless sleep by voices, again. They were of Merry, Legolas, and Gimli. He stretched from his position on the floor, back popping so loud that it attracted the attention of the other three. He got up slowly. "Where is Aragorn?" he said, shielding his face from the sun streaming in a window.
"He is in a high chamber of the Burg," Gimli answered. "He has not rested nor slept, I think. Some dark doubt or care sits on him."
"They are a strange company, these newcomers," said Merry. "Stout men and lordly they are, for they are grim of face and like weathered rocks for the most part, and they are silent."
"Why are they here?" Harry asked, not really caring despite their situation. He felt dismal and detached. He followed the others as they passed out towards the ruined gate of the Burg.
"They answered a summons," said Gimli. "Word came to Rivendell, they say: Aragorn has need of his kindred. Let the Dunedain ride to him in Rohan! Now why did we not wish for some of our own kinsfolk, Legolas?"
Legolas looked heartbreakingly sad. Harry went to him and just stood close to the elf, trying to give him comfort the same as Legolas had given him the night before. "I do not think that any would come," Legolas said softly. "They have no need to ride to war; war already marches on their own lands." He wrapped his arms around himself, looking towards the east, to Mordor, and over it a dark cloud lay, slowly moving west.
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Chapter Sixteen: Warning
by Capella
A/N: The plot is finally going to pick up again! And all will be revealed...kind of. I figured since the last chapter was totally bereft of any plot and was put in there to ease the angst, I should most likely start moving the story along again.
I really want to thank the reviewers again. After that last, rushed posting, where I spent about a half hour on the entire chapter (bleh), I was so happy to get some of those reviews - specifically, the ones that told me not to rush my chapters. Thank you guys for being honest and telling me when my tone is sounding too stilted and forced. I want to make this fic as good as I can, not rushed. So I hope you guys don't mind if it takes me a little bit to churn out my chapters. Thank you all again! you're lovely :)
I realize that lots of this is stuff from the book, but it's unavoidable - I can't go through and NOT put it in there, you know. I hate it though I feel so uncreative when I have to do this.
Well, after much ado about nothing, here is chapter sixteen. I appretiate your reviews - ie, leave some more! :D Sorry if this chapter is just a bit squicky. NOTHING will develop between Gandalf and Harry - it's just a plot device.
_____________________
Red fog...why did that seem so familiar?
As the sun set on their last day at Orthanc, the strange, misty fog covering Isengard was lit with the bright red light of the setting sun. Harry reached out a hand, watching as the fog swirled around it, and wondered why the redness made him think of home.
"Harry, will you come?"
Harry turned in the direction of the voice, and saw Legolas standing impatiently next to Arod. The others, Gandalf on Shadowfax with Merry, and Aragorn with Pippin, had already left a few minutes earlier. Harry shook his head.
"Theoden lent me another horse, Legolas, so that Gimli could ride with you. He didn't want to ride by himself." Harry stroked the flank of the jet black mare standing calmly next to him, and she whickered softly in contentment. Legolas didn't look any less displeased except in the set of his mouth, which tightened momentarily. Harry grinned, walking over to Legolas and leaning up to give him a small kiss. "It's only for a little bit, Legolas. You'll survive." He swung up onto his horse with only a little bit of trouble and motioned for Legolas to do the same.
"I have to find that dwarf first," Legolas said, eyes unreadable, and turned to do exactly that. Shrugging at the abrupt mood swing, Harry dug his heels into the mare's side and they sped off into the fog. After close to a half hour of riding, he heard the pounding hoofbeats of Arod catching up to his horse and looked to the side, catching Legolas's smile as Arod raced past.
_______________________
Night swallowed the valley slowly, the faint mist clearing up in a heartbeat. They rode on with the River Isen at their side, sometimes near, sometimes far away as it meandered through the land. Harry couldn't stop yawning. He was afraid that he was going to fall off his horse.
Finally they stopped for the night, They made camp in a small hollow in a glen, down in the roots of a huge hawthorn. Gimli and Aragorn took first watch while the others ate supper. Harry sat on an old branch and stared at his feet, good mood from earlier dissapated. He glanced over and caught Gandalf's eye, and he could swear he saw a glimmer of guilt there. Gandalf looked back at the campfire.
Harry got up and moved to sit next to the wizard, staring into the crackling flames as well as he spoke. "If you know anything at all, Gandalf, just - tell me. Please." He looked away from the fire and into the old, wizened face, hoping to find some clue there. "I need to know what's happening to me."
"If I tell you, I will not keep anything from you. Anything. Some of this might be...hard for you to take." The wizard let out a large sigh and continued.
"I do not know what ruled your world, but here we have one god, Eru. He made his children, the Valar, to create our world. The Valar came to Arda with their servants, called the Maia. They fashioned the world, but had much trouble from an evil Valar and his servants. Sauron is one of that Maiar's servants, perverted to darkness, as are the Balrogs. To counter this evil, the Valar sent the Istari, the wizards, to Middle-Earth. We are Maiar in the shape of men, to help the races in times of need. This is where our sorcery comes from.
"However, when you came to Middle-earth, something went wrong. I had been wondering for some time how you managed to use magic while in our world, as you are not an Istari by any means. But then I saw the Imperial mark on your head and now the sign of the Maiar, and everything fits."
Harry frowned. "Everything doesn't fit for me, Gandalf. I don't get what you're saying. The history of Middle-Earth doesn't explain what's happening to me."
"Haven't you wondered why you are able to do magic here? It is not by some stroke of luck. And haven't you thought about how you can possibly know these things that you cannot possibly know? You..are an Istari, Harry."
"What the hell -"
"Peace, for a moment, please," Gandalf said quickly, holding up a hand. "You must understand. You are not the only one inhabiting your body right now.
"When you came to this world, by some force that I still do not know, it is my understanding that one of the Maiar was drawn into your body by both your mark and the mere fact that you believed you could do magic. It is not so much that you could do magic but that you knew you could, and this forced the Maiar spirit into your body."
Harry shook his head, disbelieving.
"The shock of having such a powerful spirit with your own in sending your body into a collapse - it will not last much longer. You will not last more than a month."
Harry finally found his voice again. "If your almighty gods are so powerful then why can't they get this spirit out of my body?" he shouted, but lowered his voice at a quick gesture from Gandalf. "Why can't they make it leave before it - it kills me?"
Gandalf exhaled. "I cannot answer that question, Harry. Nor maybe will I ever be able to." Suddenly the wizard looked down into Harry's eyes, and his eyes weren't those of an old man. They were eyes much more beautiful, a shining purple, and his visage flashed that of a beautiful man, his age impossible to tell. The god reached up a shaking, smooth hand and touched Harry's cheek.
"Please, Eonwe," the smooth tenor voice said, trembling. Harry reached his hand up and placed it over the other's.
"Olorin," he said simply, and a sudden feeling of love hit him. He closed his eyes and took Olorin's hand in his own. "You left too suddenly, I -" and then it was over.
He dropped Gandalf's hand, shocked and scared. Gandalf's now blue eyes were filled with grief and sadness. "You see what I mean now, Harry."
Harry nodded numbly and without another word got up, going to a corner of the hollow and wrapping himself up in his warm cotton cloak. He tried his hardest to go to sleep, but haunting violet eyes followed him even there, and his dreams were troubled.
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The soft cry that escaped Harry's throat as he woke was drowned out by a shrill shriek from the other side of the camp. Harry leapt up, nameless fear in his mind, that something had found them and come for him. He heard voices, Gandalf's voice and Pippin's, and relieved, he crept silently toward where they were talking. He lay quietly behind one of the hawthorns' large roots, peeking over it and looking to where Gandalf knelt by Pippin's shocked form.
"They are not for you, Saruman!" the little hobbit cried in a toneless voice. "I will send for both of them at once. Do you understand? Say just that!"
Gandalf held the hobbit down as Pippin attempted to get up and escape. Harry frowned, totally confused. "Peregrin Took! Come back!"
"Gandalf," Pippin said, back to his senses. "Gandalf, forgive me!"
"Forgive you? Tell me first what you have done!"
Pippin looked scared. "I took the ball and looked in it, and I saw things that frightened me. And I wanted to go away, but I couldn't. And then he came and questioned me; and he looked at me, and that is all I remember."
"That won't do. What did you see, and what did you say?"
Harry leaned a bit forward to catch Pippin's muttered words. He noticed the pained expression on Merry's face as he inadvertantly turned toward's Harry's hiding spot in grief.
"I saw a dark sky, and tall battlements," Pippin began. "It seemed very far away and long ago, yet hard and clear. Then the stars went in and out--they were cut off by things with wings. Very big, I think, really; but in the glass they looked like bats wheeling round the tower. One began to fly straight towards me, getting bigger and bigger. It had a horrible-no, no! I can't say."
"I tried to get away, because I thought it would fly out; but when it had covered the glass, it disappeared. Then *he* came. He did not speak so that I could hear words. He just looked, and I understood.
" 'So you have come back? Why have you neglected to report for so long?'
"I didn't answer. He said: "Who are you?" I still didn't answer, but it hurt horribly, and he pressed me, so I said: "A hobbit."
"Then suddenly he seemed to see me, and he laughed at me. It was cruel. It was like being stabbed with knives. I struggled. But he said: "Wait a moment! We shall meet again soon. Tell Sauruman that this dainty, and the boy, are not for him. I will send for both at once. Do you understand? Say just that!"
Harry shivered, rubbing his arms as goosebumps broke out everywhere. He knew with sudden clarity that he was the boy that Sauron had been speaking of. Morgoth. Melkor. I...
Blinking, Harry realized that he had lost Pippin's train of thought. Gandalf was carrying Pippin back to his bed. Predictibly, Merry followed and laid down beside the other hobbit. Whatever Gandalf said was lost to Harry's ears. Melkor. He knew not how I--
The cold wind picked up and swirled Harry's hair into his face and whipping his cloak around him. He started violently at the pair of arms that suddently encircled his waist, but just as quickly relaxed into Legolas's warm embrace. "I don't want to be alone," he whispered. Legolas kissed the top of his head, offering silent comfort.
"I know," he replied.
Harry was about to say something, anything, whatever he had to do to make the other conciousness that was hovering on the edge of his own leave when as quick as lightening fear flashed across his mind. He threw up his hands and cried out, dropping to a crouch on the ground.
"Christ!" Harry whispered as the shadow of fear left, and felt Legolas pull him to his feet.
"Nazgul," he said urgently, tugging Harry in the direction of Arod and Harry's mare. "We must leave quickly!" Everyone was mounted or getting ready to do so, and the King and Aragorn were on their horses conversing quietly.
Dazedly Harry mounted his horse, who followed Arod and Legolas without any help from Harry. He clung on in a stupor, a strange fog decended over his vision as he fought for his sanity. For a moment his own spirit receded, giving way to the more powerful one inside him. For a moment his eyes shone eerily silver, then it was pushed back and he was Harry again.
They had not ridden long when a Rider went to the front with a message for Aragorn and the King that made them stop and turn back. Harry reigned in his horse and turned her around, trotting to Legolas's side and swaying slighty in his saddle.
A lone figure walked out of the darkness and into the circle of horsemen, his face shadowed.
"Halt! Who rides in Rohan?" cried Eomer loudly.
"Rohan?" said the man, in a clear voice. "Rohan, did you say? That is a glad word. We seek your land in haste."
"You've found it. When you crossed the fords, you entered it, but it is the realm of Theoden King. None ride here save by his leave. Who are you? And what is your haste?"
"Halbarad Dunedan, Ranger of the North I am. We seek Aragorn son of Arathorn, and we heard he was in Rohan."
Aragorn smiled. "And you have found him also!" He ran forward and embraced Halbarad tightly to the suprise of all. "Of all joys this is the least expected! All is well," he continued, turning back to Theoden. "Here are some of my own kin."
"Thirty at least, but that is all of our kindred that could be gathered. Elladan and Elrohir have also ridden with us. We rode as swiftly as we might when your summons came."
Aragorn paused. "I did not summon you, save only in wish," he said slowly. "I sent no word. But come! All such matters must wait. Ride with us now, if the king will give us his leave."
Theoden did, gracefully, and the party of now both Dunedain and Riders mounted their steeds and continued the journey to Edoras. Harry was slouched in his saddle, riding next to Legolas. He felt himself nodding off several times during the journey, but each time the fear of that spirit inside him taking over while he slept kept him awake. The sun was right below the horizon when they rode up at last from the Deeping Coomb to the Hornburg, There, Aragorn said they would rest briefly and take counsel.
Harry didn't know when he had fallen asleep that night, but only knew that in the morning he was woken from a restless sleep by voices, again. They were of Merry, Legolas, and Gimli. He stretched from his position on the floor, back popping so loud that it attracted the attention of the other three. He got up slowly. "Where is Aragorn?" he said, shielding his face from the sun streaming in a window.
"He is in a high chamber of the Burg," Gimli answered. "He has not rested nor slept, I think. Some dark doubt or care sits on him."
"They are a strange company, these newcomers," said Merry. "Stout men and lordly they are, for they are grim of face and like weathered rocks for the most part, and they are silent."
"Why are they here?" Harry asked, not really caring despite their situation. He felt dismal and detached. He followed the others as they passed out towards the ruined gate of the Burg.
"They answered a summons," said Gimli. "Word came to Rivendell, they say: Aragorn has need of his kindred. Let the Dunedain ride to him in Rohan! Now why did we not wish for some of our own kinsfolk, Legolas?"
Legolas looked heartbreakingly sad. Harry went to him and just stood close to the elf, trying to give him comfort the same as Legolas had given him the night before. "I do not think that any would come," Legolas said softly. "They have no need to ride to war; war already marches on their own lands." He wrapped his arms around himself, looking towards the east, to Mordor, and over it a dark cloud lay, slowly moving west.
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