Shadow of a Doubt
Chapter Twenty-three: Belong
by Capella
A/N: Well, I'm happy to say that all the lovely reviews you've left me have given me a stroke. Jeez, you guys, 300!!!! You guys can't imagine how encouraging you've all been. I don't know how to say thank you enough! Um, thank you x 1000000?
There is a reason for all the angst in this chapter. And you can blame it all on Kingdom Hearts. I just finished that game about five minutes ago, and let me tell you, I have never cried so hard in my entire life. I mean, I was so emotionally attached to all those characters ESPECIALLY Riku, who I love. I could not believe what those goddamn people at Squaresoft ended the game the way they did. I called my best friend, who's also playing KH and is at the same spot as me, and I cried to her on the phone. I hate that damn game!! *wails* ....I think I might be a bit of a wimp.
Notice that the most angsty, heartwrenching chapters of mine come out right after I beat a game that has a horribly sad ending (ie. KH and FFX)? Just because of the ending to that damn game, I'm going to write some sort of Riku tribute soon.
Anyways, here is Chapter Twenty-three of Shadow of a Doubt: Belong. I'm going to go cry some more.
_________________________
"I have often dreamed
Of a far-off place
Where a great warm welcome
Will be waiting for me
Where the crowds will cheer
When they see my face
And a voice keeps saying
This is where I'm meant to be
I will find my way
I can go the distance
I'll be there someday
If I can be strong
I know every mile
Will be worth my while
I would go most anywhere
to feel like I belong."
-Go the Distance, from the Disney movie Hercules (which made me cry)
_________________________
It took a few moments for Harry's words to sink in, but when they did, Legolas stumbled backwards off of the bier and nearly fell. "What?" he whispered, barely audible even to himself. He could feel those green eyes boring into his own curiously.
Harry's dazed look slid off like water and he sat up, back ramrod straight, and narrowed his eyes.
"Where am I?" he said, looking around and then straight at Legolas. "And who are you? Is this -- is this one of Voldemort's tricks?" Harry gripped the sheets covering the rock bier tightly, knuckles going white. Legolas glanced at Manwe who was sitting in his throne, completely calm and staring placidly at Harry.
Voldemort? Legolas mouthed silently, completely confused. Harry seemed to notice his hesitation and frowned.
"Aren't you Death Eaters?" he said uncertainly, glancing at Legolas and then at Manwe. "Aren't you...aren't you...oh!" Suddenly Harry grabbed his head in both hands and fell off the stone bier, collapsing into a heap at the bottom of it. "Oh, shit," he moaned, and he dug his fingers into his skull.
Legolas snapped out of his dazed trance and covered the distance between himself and Harry in a heartbeat. He grabbed Harry's shoulders and pulled the boy into a sitting position, noticing Harry's heavy breathing and the cold sweat breaking out all over his body. "Harry?" he said frantically, shaking Harry's shoulders.
Calm yourself.
Legolas looked up at Varda in a near panic, but a single, serene look from her shining eyes drove a little of the fear from his mind.
He is only regaining his memories. Leave him be a moment, child.
Legolas nodded faintly, and he took his hands from Harry's shoulders reluctantly. Without Legolas's support, Harry slumped over again, twitching a little, and every now and then issuing a tiny whimper from behind his clenched teeth. Besides that, Harry looked remarkably still.
Legolas could not stand it anymore. He reached out a hand and lightly touched Harry on one shoulder.
"NO!"
Harry shrunk against the side of the stone bier, shaking violently. His eyes looked like enormous wounds. Legolas quickly withdrew his hand, though it trembled with the effort.
"Harry, what is wrong?" he said quietly.
Harry either could not or would not answer. He stayed curled up on the ground, staring at Legolas, looking frightened and a little angry, withdrawn into himself. Legolas could sense a little bit of panic on his face. The space between them was nearly tangible. Legolas tried again. "Harry, I -"
"Shut up, Legolas."
Harry's voice was hoarse, and his voice gave on the end of the sentence. He stared at Legolas as one would a viper, poised to attack, and he curled into a tighter ball, burying his head in his hands. "Don't," he said, voice muffled.
"Harry, I'm --"
He never got to finish his sentence. Harry drew his face out of his hands, no traces of tears on his face. Only anger.
"You what, Legolas? What in the world can you possibly say to me that will make me forgive you? To make me forgive what -- what you did, what you said --" He stopped, voice choking in his throat, and glared. When he spoke again, his voice sounded more tired than anything else. "Sauron told me that you...that you came to him, willingly. That he barely had to persuade you to go to him, and then you said -- you said that you didn't love me." Tears stood in his green eyes, along with betrayal and hurt. Legolas shifted his gaze to the ground. He knew that to protest his innocence would sound false.
"I don't know what to say," he whispered.
"That makes two of us," Harry snapped, and promptly broke into tears. Legolas folded him into a hug, ignoring Harry's struggles, and held him until he quieted down. A tiny grain of hope rose deep inside him.
It was crushed not a second later by the muffled words that Harry muttered into his cloak.
"I want to go home."
A moment later Harry was asleep in his arms.
Legolas looked up at Manwe and Varda in despair, his heartbeat echoing loudly in his ears. "He said that he --"
We know, child. And you must realize that you cannot keep him here against his will.
Legolas brushed the soft hair out of Harry's relaxed, peaceful face and touched the full lower lip with his thumb. "I know," he sighed, placing a kiss on Harry's forehead. He traced the thin white scar around Harry's throat thoughtfully. "I know."
_________________________
God, what should I do? Harry wondered, and nervously picked at the hem of his blanket. He was sitting in someone's bed, in someone's home. He couldn't bring himself to care whose -- more likely than not some elf who will never see me again, he thought, and sighed.
What he was trying to do, he admitted to himself, was attempting to keep his mind off what was in front of him. Literally.
Legolas was slumped over in a chair at the foot of his bed. The elf's head was resting on his chest, and even though his eyes were open, his breaths were deep in his slumber. Harry had to grip the bedsheets in an effort not to do Legolas physical violence.
Why not? he thought, a little nastily. He did me enough.
Because I love him, that's why.
Harry let go of the sheets and lay back down. "I don't love him," he whispered. "I don't. I can't love him after
(i could never love you)
what he did to me. I don't." The resulting wave of emotions from saying those words made him shut his eyes tightly. "I'm going to leave," he said, and grit his teeth. "No way in hell am I going to stay here with him." He opened his eyes and let out his breath in a whoosh. Legolas had not stirred from where he sat. Suddenly, the air in Harry's room seemed to press down on him.
"I need a walk," he muttered to himself, and with limbs seemed to be made from lead, put on his cloak and left.
_____________________________
Strangely enough, the streets of Valinor were quiet after dark. It was hours past sunset, and all the elves had left the roads, leaving the city blissfully quiet. Only one person's footsteps echoed off the stone walls.
A rock lay in the middle of the road, and Harry kicked it halfheartedly.
God, had it only been less than a year since he'd come to Middle-earth? A year.
How much had happened back home? Had he been forgotten? Not likely, he thought. I know I won't be forgotten, at least. He wondered with a sinking heart if Ron had found another. His class would be graduated by now, off getting jobs and getting married.
"I want to go home," he said sadly to the silent stone walls.
Do you, child?
Harry whirled around and found himself face to face with none other than Nienna, her beautiful gray eyes staring into his own.
"Yes," he ground out. "I do."
Why?
The question seemed deceptively simple. So then why, Harry wondered, do I not have an answer? He searched through his mind and found nothing. He shrugged.
"Why should I stay?"
Legolas loves thee.
That hit him like a ton of bricks, and he felt angry tears in the corners of his eyes. One slid down his cheek slowly. "Like hell Legolas loves me. I don't know if you get what he's done, but
(let me hear you scream)
even if it was a trick and he loves me, I don't love him." Harry folded his arms across his chest and tried to keep the pain he felt out of his expression. There was a hollow ache in his chest, and in his heart he felt a great void.
Nienna's face was a combination of pity and sadness.
I know that thou hast been wounded, child. Yet you must look inside yourself and wonder if the creature who has hurt thee was the one who so loved thee. Hast thou noticed how Legolas has changed? Before thou came to our world, he was withdrawn, emotionless, cold. Look at him now, young one. He has found love, and that has changed him in ways he cannot imagine.
"I don't even know if there's any way to go home. Maybe I'm stuck here forever. Maybe --"
Nienna walked forward and laid a cool hand against Harry's cheek. She smiled at Harry's lost expression.
If you decide to leave, Manwe will send thee home. As for thy decision -- there is no right choice, but thou must make one. Willst thou stay, or willst thou leave? You cannot do both.
"I can't decide," he said softly. Nienna smiled again.
You must look inside thy soul.
After Nienna left, Harry walked slowly to the shore of the Great Sea, and stood still, looking at the waters, for a long, long time.
___________________________
Legolas was jolted from his uneasy sleep when a soft hand touched his shoulder. Coming back to awareness, he noticed the rising sun, the empty bed, and Harry, standing in front of him.
"I want to go home."
That hurt almost as much as the first time Harry had said it. "Are you sure?" Legolas asked quietly, hopefully.
Harry looked unsure for a split second, but the next moment his expression was resolute. "I'm sure," he said, a touch sadly.
Legolas closed his eyes. You cannot imprison him, he thought to himself miserably. And then: Gods help me let him go. "I'm sorry," Legolas whispered. "Please believe me. I'm so sorry, Harry."
Harry's firm expression crumbled. "So am I, Legolas." He took one step backwards, gazed fixed on Legolas's own, then turned and walked out of the room.
___________________________
He has requested to leave Arda, my lord.
A sigh.
I expected as much, Nienna. And we must honor his request...yet...
What, my lord?
I think I shall leave with him a gift.
____________________________
"I was told of your decision, Harry."
Harry was only a little suprised at the sad voice behind him. "Are you going to try and talk me out of it, or what?"
"No, I will not. However, neither will I convince you that the resolution you made was the right one." After a long pause, Gandalf sighed and spoke again, sounding a touch sad. "Are you sure you are making the right choice, Harry?"
"I -- I'm sure." He wished that he truly felt the conviction he put into his voice. The spare room he had found, adjacent to his own, suddenly felt too small. His shoulders slumped a bit more, and he almost wished he could just sink into the chair he sat in when Gandalf spoke again.
"You do know, of course, that Legolas loves you. I realize what you have been through, and you have all the reasons in the world to have doubt. And you will never hear Legolas admit what has happened to him -- he will apologize, and do anything you ask, except explain what caused him to hurt you. He has too much pride."
Harry ran a hand through his hair in frustration and a little bit of guilt. "I never really asked him for an explanation, maybe because I never wanted to hear one. There isn't a point to hearing what happened to him, even if he would tell me. If I stayed, nothing would ever be the same again."
"He hurt you."
Harry cast an incredulous glance at Gandalf.
"And yet, you still love him."
Harry opened his mouth to protest, and the words would not come. In the face of such blunt accusations, he could not find a leg to stand on, nor even begin to argue. All he knew was that he did not want to stay. But to never see Legolas again
(if you die i swear i will follow)
was nearly unimaginable, and it hurt. He felt Gandalf's hand on his shoulder, and with a heavy heart finally grasped that no matter what realizations he came to, he would eventually leave to his own world.
"I'm leaving, Gandalf."
The old wizard said nothing, but his eyes, filled with sadness and pity, said everything he did not.
__________________________
Harry cautiously looked into the doorway of his room, peering around the corner. "Legolas?" he said softly. The elf was slumped over in his chair, his face in his hands. At the sound of Harry's voice, he looked up, and Harry saw the redness around his eyes. He felt a small prick of guilt. He opened his mouth to speak, to apologize, to beg -- he didn't know which -- but Legolas stopped him with a raised hand.
"I know," he said quietly. As Harry watched miserably, a crack appeared in Legolas's calm as the elf's lips started trembling minutely. He thought back at what Nienna had said about the great change he'd brought in Legolas, and realized that it was true; a short time ago Legolas would have never shown such vulnerability. Harry wondered heavily if the change he'd brought was good.
Legolas's calm broke and he stood, face full of desperation, and took Harry's face in his hands gently. "Please, Harry...please...." he whispered.
Harry's eyes were fastened on Legolas's sorrowful blue eyes, and he knew what was being asked of him. "I can't stay, Legolas, I..." He trailed off, uncertain.
Legolas shut his eyes. "Let me just have one moment -- let me believe you want to stay --" he said, a little desperate, and pressed his lips to Harry's own.
Harry had never been kissed -- not by Ron, not by Draco -- like he was being kissed now. It was like Legolas was trying to take out a piece of his soul and keep it for his own; and the emotion was so powerful and aching that Harry felt bitter tears slipping down his cheeks. He lifted a hand to Legolas's face and found a similar wetness there.
He pulled away, not able to look at Legolas or how beautiful he was, lips red and bruised against pale skin. "Please don't do that again," he said, so softly Legolas had to lean forward to hear it.
"Why not?" Legolas's voice was full of forced serenity.
He hesitated before answering. "I think -- I think if you did that again I might have to stay."
Legolas raised his eyes to Harry's own, and Harry cursed at the hope in them that he would have to break. "You mean --" Legolas began, but Harry cut him off.
"I have to leave. I have to, Legolas! Please...please, understand me. I have to go back to Ron and Hermione --"
At the sound of Ron's name, Legolas's face became dangerously closed off and his voice was cool. "I understand." he said icily, voice cracking a bit and giving away his emotion. "I understand perfectly." He turned and walked, silent and graceful, out of the room.
_______________________________
Art thou sure?
Legolas watched stonily as Harry hesitated, then nodded firmly. His wand was clenched in a white-knuckled grip. His body was thin from his weeks of imprisonment, so much that the pants and tunic he'd borrowed earlier hung off his lean frame. His face was pale, but his eyes were determined. He had never looked so beautiful.
Manwe didn't sigh, but his demeanor was clearly disappointed.
I shall give to you what you ask, a way back to your world.
He seemed about to say more, but stopped, and beckoned Harry forward. When Harry stepped uncertainly closer, Manwe pressed a small glass orb into his hand. Harry stepped back, and stopped.
"My lord, if I may ask...?"
Manwe nodded.
"How did I come to this world?"
It was the first time Manwe had smiled that day, a gentle, beautiful thing. I believe the Valar have correspondence with someone in your world.
Harry looked as confused as Legolas felt, but Manwe gestured to the clear ball in his hand.
Hold it, and think of your home. Those were the only instructions Manwe gave, but Harry gripped the orb as if it were his last hope, and nodded. He gave a last, sorrowful glance in Legolas's direction.
In a flash of green light, he was gone.
Legolas stared at the spot where Harry had been only moments before, not noticing the slight shaking of his hands.
A hand on his arm startled him out of his anguished daze. "Oh, Legolas, I am sorry," Gandalf murmured gently. Legolas felt his lips draw back over his teeth in a grimace.
"I'm not," he snarled. "I don't care, I don't --"
His legs gave out from under him and he collapsed to the ground on his hands and knees, rocks digging into his palms. His body shook helplessly under the force of his sobs. "Harry," he whispered through his tears.
He didn't know that, worlds away on the stone cold floors outside of the Gryffindor common room, there was a boy with a scar and a green orb, sobbing as hard as he.
________________________
"Harry?! Oh God, Harry!"
Harry remained where he was, prostrate on the floor, tears flowing down his cheeks. The glass ball was clutched tightly in his hand. He felt hands drawing him up into a sitting position and suddenly he was looking into the desperate face of Hermione.
"Is it you?" she cried, and hugged him to her tightly without waiting for an answer, her voice high and screechy. "Where have you been?"
Harry, who had closed his eyes as he relaxed into her familiar embrace, felt his eyes fly open at the question. What in the world could he say? I went to a different dimension? I talked with elves and tiny creatures called hobbits? I met the gods?
I fell in love?
He gripped the back of her robes from where she hugged him, kneeling. He realized belatedly that she was crying.
"Hermione," he said hesitantly, his voice rough from his tears. She noticed immediately and drew back, searching his face with her intelligent eyes. "You've been crying," she said sharply. He glanced to the side. "Oh God, the Death Eaters didn't get you, did they?" She searched the rest of what she could see of his body with her eyes, noticing the scars covering his arm and not seeing when he shook his head.
Without another word, she pulled him to a standing position. "At least you can walk," she said with obvious relief. There was still nervous tension in her voice as she walked him into the common room. "The rest of the dorm is at the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor game, but I don't go to the Quidditch games anymore." She didn't say why, but Harry understood.
She led him up to the girl's dorms and made him sit on her bed. "Take off your shirt," she said crisply, and when he hesitated, she frowned. "I need to make sure you're not hurt. Please, Harry." Slowly, reluctantly, he drew his shirt over his head. He felt sickened and vunerable when Hermione put her hand over her mouth in horror.
"Oh -- oh God --"
Harry had thought that when he'd been brought back to life, the scars left from Mordor had disappeared. Evidently, whatever had made them go away did not affect him here.
The red whip scars lay on his torso like strange worms, twisting around to his back, where they were more numerous and much deeper. A brand with a large letter he did not understand was on his hip, visible above his low pants. Various cuts and faint, scarring bite marks could be seen on his neck and shoulders, and Harry was desperately glad that the finger shaped bruises on his slim hips had faded.
Hermione seemed speechless, and more tears welled in her brown eyes. "Oh God, Harry, the Death Eaters did capture you, didn't they? Those -- those bastards, I can't believe --" her voice was shaking with anger.
Harry chose to ignore that for a moment. "Hermione," he said, choosing his words carefully, "how long have I been gone?"
She looked at him curiously but didn't comment. "About five months," she replied.
Harry struggled not to let his suprise show. Five months! He'd been in Middle-earth months -- maybe a year -- how could it be? Relief washed over him, and he barely noticed Hermione drawing closer.
"Who did this to you, Harry?" she asked softly, fingers tracing a particularly deep, vicious weal on his back from Legolas's metal tipped whip, which slithered down below his pants. He drew a breath and all of a sudden realized that Legolas was gone from him forever.
He drew in a sobbing breath and Hermione, mistaking it for remembrance of abuse, enfolded him in another hug and rocked him gently. "Oh, Harry," she murmured over and over as he cried into her robes.
After he'd cried himself out, and he felt sleep taking him, Hermione shook him gently. "We have to get you to see Dumbledore," she said. "Can you stand?"
"Thanks," he said hoarsely and stood, still clutching his wand in one hand and the orb in the other. She took a cloak from her bed and wrapped it around his shoulders as they walked out of the dorms, out of the common room, and into the hall.
"Hermione! Ravenclaw lost, their Keeper is a complete sack of horse sh -- Harry?!"
Harry shut his eyes as the voice swept through him like a cold breeze and left him shivering, feeling dazed.
"Harry!"
He opened his eyes in time to see a shock of red hair and a robe flying toward him before Ron grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into a tight embrace, sending Harry's cloak fluttering to the floor. "It's you," Ron gasped unsteadily into Harry's hair and pulled Harry into a frantic kiss, his hands running over Harry's back and waist as if he was trying to memorize the feel of him. One of his hands ran over the brand embedded on Harry's right hip, and Ron's lips froze against his own. Harry inhaled a breath and buried his head in the crook of Ron's neck.
"Hermione?" he heard Ron ask softly over Harry's shoulder. Whatever Hermione replied was lost to Harry in the blood pounding in his ears. Ron placed both hands on Harry's shoulders and gently pushed him a few steps away.
He hated the way Ron's eyes followed his scars with mingled disgust and revulsion, tracing them down to the tops of his pants. He knew that Ron did not miss the bite marks on his shoulder. As much as he hated them, the scars were the only thing he had left of Legolas. A living memory. He stood swaying on his feet as if drunk, eyes half shut.
"I don't think Harry knows what happened to him," Hermione was saying quietly to Ron. "He asked me how long he'd been gone and he won't tell me where he got the scars and the brand." She evidently noticed Harry listening in and put an arm around his shoulders. "Ron, we were just taking him to Dumbledore."
Ron grinned brightly at Harry, obvious relief in his eyes. Harry smiled slightly back, heart breaking as he imagined Legolas's tentative smiles. He turned away so that Ron couldn't see the single tear that slid down his cheek as he mourned for something perfect that would never be quite so wonderful again.
_________________________________
A/N: Well, it's much longer that the last one. Hoped you like it -- sorry for all the angst. One more chapter and it's alllll over, and happiness will come, don't you worry. *grins* I had to put a plug in there about Draco, since I started writing this fic before I realized how much I despise Ron and love Draco.
Well -- Review for me, so that I can cheer up and try to forget about Riku being stuck with millions of Heartless and all alone without Sora and -- *chokes*
Chapter Twenty-three: Belong
by Capella
A/N: Well, I'm happy to say that all the lovely reviews you've left me have given me a stroke. Jeez, you guys, 300!!!! You guys can't imagine how encouraging you've all been. I don't know how to say thank you enough! Um, thank you x 1000000?
There is a reason for all the angst in this chapter. And you can blame it all on Kingdom Hearts. I just finished that game about five minutes ago, and let me tell you, I have never cried so hard in my entire life. I mean, I was so emotionally attached to all those characters ESPECIALLY Riku, who I love. I could not believe what those goddamn people at Squaresoft ended the game the way they did. I called my best friend, who's also playing KH and is at the same spot as me, and I cried to her on the phone. I hate that damn game!! *wails* ....I think I might be a bit of a wimp.
Notice that the most angsty, heartwrenching chapters of mine come out right after I beat a game that has a horribly sad ending (ie. KH and FFX)? Just because of the ending to that damn game, I'm going to write some sort of Riku tribute soon.
Anyways, here is Chapter Twenty-three of Shadow of a Doubt: Belong. I'm going to go cry some more.
_________________________
"I have often dreamed
Of a far-off place
Where a great warm welcome
Will be waiting for me
Where the crowds will cheer
When they see my face
And a voice keeps saying
This is where I'm meant to be
I will find my way
I can go the distance
I'll be there someday
If I can be strong
I know every mile
Will be worth my while
I would go most anywhere
to feel like I belong."
-Go the Distance, from the Disney movie Hercules (which made me cry)
_________________________
It took a few moments for Harry's words to sink in, but when they did, Legolas stumbled backwards off of the bier and nearly fell. "What?" he whispered, barely audible even to himself. He could feel those green eyes boring into his own curiously.
Harry's dazed look slid off like water and he sat up, back ramrod straight, and narrowed his eyes.
"Where am I?" he said, looking around and then straight at Legolas. "And who are you? Is this -- is this one of Voldemort's tricks?" Harry gripped the sheets covering the rock bier tightly, knuckles going white. Legolas glanced at Manwe who was sitting in his throne, completely calm and staring placidly at Harry.
Voldemort? Legolas mouthed silently, completely confused. Harry seemed to notice his hesitation and frowned.
"Aren't you Death Eaters?" he said uncertainly, glancing at Legolas and then at Manwe. "Aren't you...aren't you...oh!" Suddenly Harry grabbed his head in both hands and fell off the stone bier, collapsing into a heap at the bottom of it. "Oh, shit," he moaned, and he dug his fingers into his skull.
Legolas snapped out of his dazed trance and covered the distance between himself and Harry in a heartbeat. He grabbed Harry's shoulders and pulled the boy into a sitting position, noticing Harry's heavy breathing and the cold sweat breaking out all over his body. "Harry?" he said frantically, shaking Harry's shoulders.
Calm yourself.
Legolas looked up at Varda in a near panic, but a single, serene look from her shining eyes drove a little of the fear from his mind.
He is only regaining his memories. Leave him be a moment, child.
Legolas nodded faintly, and he took his hands from Harry's shoulders reluctantly. Without Legolas's support, Harry slumped over again, twitching a little, and every now and then issuing a tiny whimper from behind his clenched teeth. Besides that, Harry looked remarkably still.
Legolas could not stand it anymore. He reached out a hand and lightly touched Harry on one shoulder.
"NO!"
Harry shrunk against the side of the stone bier, shaking violently. His eyes looked like enormous wounds. Legolas quickly withdrew his hand, though it trembled with the effort.
"Harry, what is wrong?" he said quietly.
Harry either could not or would not answer. He stayed curled up on the ground, staring at Legolas, looking frightened and a little angry, withdrawn into himself. Legolas could sense a little bit of panic on his face. The space between them was nearly tangible. Legolas tried again. "Harry, I -"
"Shut up, Legolas."
Harry's voice was hoarse, and his voice gave on the end of the sentence. He stared at Legolas as one would a viper, poised to attack, and he curled into a tighter ball, burying his head in his hands. "Don't," he said, voice muffled.
"Harry, I'm --"
He never got to finish his sentence. Harry drew his face out of his hands, no traces of tears on his face. Only anger.
"You what, Legolas? What in the world can you possibly say to me that will make me forgive you? To make me forgive what -- what you did, what you said --" He stopped, voice choking in his throat, and glared. When he spoke again, his voice sounded more tired than anything else. "Sauron told me that you...that you came to him, willingly. That he barely had to persuade you to go to him, and then you said -- you said that you didn't love me." Tears stood in his green eyes, along with betrayal and hurt. Legolas shifted his gaze to the ground. He knew that to protest his innocence would sound false.
"I don't know what to say," he whispered.
"That makes two of us," Harry snapped, and promptly broke into tears. Legolas folded him into a hug, ignoring Harry's struggles, and held him until he quieted down. A tiny grain of hope rose deep inside him.
It was crushed not a second later by the muffled words that Harry muttered into his cloak.
"I want to go home."
A moment later Harry was asleep in his arms.
Legolas looked up at Manwe and Varda in despair, his heartbeat echoing loudly in his ears. "He said that he --"
We know, child. And you must realize that you cannot keep him here against his will.
Legolas brushed the soft hair out of Harry's relaxed, peaceful face and touched the full lower lip with his thumb. "I know," he sighed, placing a kiss on Harry's forehead. He traced the thin white scar around Harry's throat thoughtfully. "I know."
_________________________
God, what should I do? Harry wondered, and nervously picked at the hem of his blanket. He was sitting in someone's bed, in someone's home. He couldn't bring himself to care whose -- more likely than not some elf who will never see me again, he thought, and sighed.
What he was trying to do, he admitted to himself, was attempting to keep his mind off what was in front of him. Literally.
Legolas was slumped over in a chair at the foot of his bed. The elf's head was resting on his chest, and even though his eyes were open, his breaths were deep in his slumber. Harry had to grip the bedsheets in an effort not to do Legolas physical violence.
Why not? he thought, a little nastily. He did me enough.
Because I love him, that's why.
Harry let go of the sheets and lay back down. "I don't love him," he whispered. "I don't. I can't love him after
(i could never love you)
what he did to me. I don't." The resulting wave of emotions from saying those words made him shut his eyes tightly. "I'm going to leave," he said, and grit his teeth. "No way in hell am I going to stay here with him." He opened his eyes and let out his breath in a whoosh. Legolas had not stirred from where he sat. Suddenly, the air in Harry's room seemed to press down on him.
"I need a walk," he muttered to himself, and with limbs seemed to be made from lead, put on his cloak and left.
_____________________________
Strangely enough, the streets of Valinor were quiet after dark. It was hours past sunset, and all the elves had left the roads, leaving the city blissfully quiet. Only one person's footsteps echoed off the stone walls.
A rock lay in the middle of the road, and Harry kicked it halfheartedly.
God, had it only been less than a year since he'd come to Middle-earth? A year.
How much had happened back home? Had he been forgotten? Not likely, he thought. I know I won't be forgotten, at least. He wondered with a sinking heart if Ron had found another. His class would be graduated by now, off getting jobs and getting married.
"I want to go home," he said sadly to the silent stone walls.
Do you, child?
Harry whirled around and found himself face to face with none other than Nienna, her beautiful gray eyes staring into his own.
"Yes," he ground out. "I do."
Why?
The question seemed deceptively simple. So then why, Harry wondered, do I not have an answer? He searched through his mind and found nothing. He shrugged.
"Why should I stay?"
Legolas loves thee.
That hit him like a ton of bricks, and he felt angry tears in the corners of his eyes. One slid down his cheek slowly. "Like hell Legolas loves me. I don't know if you get what he's done, but
(let me hear you scream)
even if it was a trick and he loves me, I don't love him." Harry folded his arms across his chest and tried to keep the pain he felt out of his expression. There was a hollow ache in his chest, and in his heart he felt a great void.
Nienna's face was a combination of pity and sadness.
I know that thou hast been wounded, child. Yet you must look inside yourself and wonder if the creature who has hurt thee was the one who so loved thee. Hast thou noticed how Legolas has changed? Before thou came to our world, he was withdrawn, emotionless, cold. Look at him now, young one. He has found love, and that has changed him in ways he cannot imagine.
"I don't even know if there's any way to go home. Maybe I'm stuck here forever. Maybe --"
Nienna walked forward and laid a cool hand against Harry's cheek. She smiled at Harry's lost expression.
If you decide to leave, Manwe will send thee home. As for thy decision -- there is no right choice, but thou must make one. Willst thou stay, or willst thou leave? You cannot do both.
"I can't decide," he said softly. Nienna smiled again.
You must look inside thy soul.
After Nienna left, Harry walked slowly to the shore of the Great Sea, and stood still, looking at the waters, for a long, long time.
___________________________
Legolas was jolted from his uneasy sleep when a soft hand touched his shoulder. Coming back to awareness, he noticed the rising sun, the empty bed, and Harry, standing in front of him.
"I want to go home."
That hurt almost as much as the first time Harry had said it. "Are you sure?" Legolas asked quietly, hopefully.
Harry looked unsure for a split second, but the next moment his expression was resolute. "I'm sure," he said, a touch sadly.
Legolas closed his eyes. You cannot imprison him, he thought to himself miserably. And then: Gods help me let him go. "I'm sorry," Legolas whispered. "Please believe me. I'm so sorry, Harry."
Harry's firm expression crumbled. "So am I, Legolas." He took one step backwards, gazed fixed on Legolas's own, then turned and walked out of the room.
___________________________
He has requested to leave Arda, my lord.
A sigh.
I expected as much, Nienna. And we must honor his request...yet...
What, my lord?
I think I shall leave with him a gift.
____________________________
"I was told of your decision, Harry."
Harry was only a little suprised at the sad voice behind him. "Are you going to try and talk me out of it, or what?"
"No, I will not. However, neither will I convince you that the resolution you made was the right one." After a long pause, Gandalf sighed and spoke again, sounding a touch sad. "Are you sure you are making the right choice, Harry?"
"I -- I'm sure." He wished that he truly felt the conviction he put into his voice. The spare room he had found, adjacent to his own, suddenly felt too small. His shoulders slumped a bit more, and he almost wished he could just sink into the chair he sat in when Gandalf spoke again.
"You do know, of course, that Legolas loves you. I realize what you have been through, and you have all the reasons in the world to have doubt. And you will never hear Legolas admit what has happened to him -- he will apologize, and do anything you ask, except explain what caused him to hurt you. He has too much pride."
Harry ran a hand through his hair in frustration and a little bit of guilt. "I never really asked him for an explanation, maybe because I never wanted to hear one. There isn't a point to hearing what happened to him, even if he would tell me. If I stayed, nothing would ever be the same again."
"He hurt you."
Harry cast an incredulous glance at Gandalf.
"And yet, you still love him."
Harry opened his mouth to protest, and the words would not come. In the face of such blunt accusations, he could not find a leg to stand on, nor even begin to argue. All he knew was that he did not want to stay. But to never see Legolas again
(if you die i swear i will follow)
was nearly unimaginable, and it hurt. He felt Gandalf's hand on his shoulder, and with a heavy heart finally grasped that no matter what realizations he came to, he would eventually leave to his own world.
"I'm leaving, Gandalf."
The old wizard said nothing, but his eyes, filled with sadness and pity, said everything he did not.
__________________________
Harry cautiously looked into the doorway of his room, peering around the corner. "Legolas?" he said softly. The elf was slumped over in his chair, his face in his hands. At the sound of Harry's voice, he looked up, and Harry saw the redness around his eyes. He felt a small prick of guilt. He opened his mouth to speak, to apologize, to beg -- he didn't know which -- but Legolas stopped him with a raised hand.
"I know," he said quietly. As Harry watched miserably, a crack appeared in Legolas's calm as the elf's lips started trembling minutely. He thought back at what Nienna had said about the great change he'd brought in Legolas, and realized that it was true; a short time ago Legolas would have never shown such vulnerability. Harry wondered heavily if the change he'd brought was good.
Legolas's calm broke and he stood, face full of desperation, and took Harry's face in his hands gently. "Please, Harry...please...." he whispered.
Harry's eyes were fastened on Legolas's sorrowful blue eyes, and he knew what was being asked of him. "I can't stay, Legolas, I..." He trailed off, uncertain.
Legolas shut his eyes. "Let me just have one moment -- let me believe you want to stay --" he said, a little desperate, and pressed his lips to Harry's own.
Harry had never been kissed -- not by Ron, not by Draco -- like he was being kissed now. It was like Legolas was trying to take out a piece of his soul and keep it for his own; and the emotion was so powerful and aching that Harry felt bitter tears slipping down his cheeks. He lifted a hand to Legolas's face and found a similar wetness there.
He pulled away, not able to look at Legolas or how beautiful he was, lips red and bruised against pale skin. "Please don't do that again," he said, so softly Legolas had to lean forward to hear it.
"Why not?" Legolas's voice was full of forced serenity.
He hesitated before answering. "I think -- I think if you did that again I might have to stay."
Legolas raised his eyes to Harry's own, and Harry cursed at the hope in them that he would have to break. "You mean --" Legolas began, but Harry cut him off.
"I have to leave. I have to, Legolas! Please...please, understand me. I have to go back to Ron and Hermione --"
At the sound of Ron's name, Legolas's face became dangerously closed off and his voice was cool. "I understand." he said icily, voice cracking a bit and giving away his emotion. "I understand perfectly." He turned and walked, silent and graceful, out of the room.
_______________________________
Art thou sure?
Legolas watched stonily as Harry hesitated, then nodded firmly. His wand was clenched in a white-knuckled grip. His body was thin from his weeks of imprisonment, so much that the pants and tunic he'd borrowed earlier hung off his lean frame. His face was pale, but his eyes were determined. He had never looked so beautiful.
Manwe didn't sigh, but his demeanor was clearly disappointed.
I shall give to you what you ask, a way back to your world.
He seemed about to say more, but stopped, and beckoned Harry forward. When Harry stepped uncertainly closer, Manwe pressed a small glass orb into his hand. Harry stepped back, and stopped.
"My lord, if I may ask...?"
Manwe nodded.
"How did I come to this world?"
It was the first time Manwe had smiled that day, a gentle, beautiful thing. I believe the Valar have correspondence with someone in your world.
Harry looked as confused as Legolas felt, but Manwe gestured to the clear ball in his hand.
Hold it, and think of your home. Those were the only instructions Manwe gave, but Harry gripped the orb as if it were his last hope, and nodded. He gave a last, sorrowful glance in Legolas's direction.
In a flash of green light, he was gone.
Legolas stared at the spot where Harry had been only moments before, not noticing the slight shaking of his hands.
A hand on his arm startled him out of his anguished daze. "Oh, Legolas, I am sorry," Gandalf murmured gently. Legolas felt his lips draw back over his teeth in a grimace.
"I'm not," he snarled. "I don't care, I don't --"
His legs gave out from under him and he collapsed to the ground on his hands and knees, rocks digging into his palms. His body shook helplessly under the force of his sobs. "Harry," he whispered through his tears.
He didn't know that, worlds away on the stone cold floors outside of the Gryffindor common room, there was a boy with a scar and a green orb, sobbing as hard as he.
________________________
"Harry?! Oh God, Harry!"
Harry remained where he was, prostrate on the floor, tears flowing down his cheeks. The glass ball was clutched tightly in his hand. He felt hands drawing him up into a sitting position and suddenly he was looking into the desperate face of Hermione.
"Is it you?" she cried, and hugged him to her tightly without waiting for an answer, her voice high and screechy. "Where have you been?"
Harry, who had closed his eyes as he relaxed into her familiar embrace, felt his eyes fly open at the question. What in the world could he say? I went to a different dimension? I talked with elves and tiny creatures called hobbits? I met the gods?
I fell in love?
He gripped the back of her robes from where she hugged him, kneeling. He realized belatedly that she was crying.
"Hermione," he said hesitantly, his voice rough from his tears. She noticed immediately and drew back, searching his face with her intelligent eyes. "You've been crying," she said sharply. He glanced to the side. "Oh God, the Death Eaters didn't get you, did they?" She searched the rest of what she could see of his body with her eyes, noticing the scars covering his arm and not seeing when he shook his head.
Without another word, she pulled him to a standing position. "At least you can walk," she said with obvious relief. There was still nervous tension in her voice as she walked him into the common room. "The rest of the dorm is at the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor game, but I don't go to the Quidditch games anymore." She didn't say why, but Harry understood.
She led him up to the girl's dorms and made him sit on her bed. "Take off your shirt," she said crisply, and when he hesitated, she frowned. "I need to make sure you're not hurt. Please, Harry." Slowly, reluctantly, he drew his shirt over his head. He felt sickened and vunerable when Hermione put her hand over her mouth in horror.
"Oh -- oh God --"
Harry had thought that when he'd been brought back to life, the scars left from Mordor had disappeared. Evidently, whatever had made them go away did not affect him here.
The red whip scars lay on his torso like strange worms, twisting around to his back, where they were more numerous and much deeper. A brand with a large letter he did not understand was on his hip, visible above his low pants. Various cuts and faint, scarring bite marks could be seen on his neck and shoulders, and Harry was desperately glad that the finger shaped bruises on his slim hips had faded.
Hermione seemed speechless, and more tears welled in her brown eyes. "Oh God, Harry, the Death Eaters did capture you, didn't they? Those -- those bastards, I can't believe --" her voice was shaking with anger.
Harry chose to ignore that for a moment. "Hermione," he said, choosing his words carefully, "how long have I been gone?"
She looked at him curiously but didn't comment. "About five months," she replied.
Harry struggled not to let his suprise show. Five months! He'd been in Middle-earth months -- maybe a year -- how could it be? Relief washed over him, and he barely noticed Hermione drawing closer.
"Who did this to you, Harry?" she asked softly, fingers tracing a particularly deep, vicious weal on his back from Legolas's metal tipped whip, which slithered down below his pants. He drew a breath and all of a sudden realized that Legolas was gone from him forever.
He drew in a sobbing breath and Hermione, mistaking it for remembrance of abuse, enfolded him in another hug and rocked him gently. "Oh, Harry," she murmured over and over as he cried into her robes.
After he'd cried himself out, and he felt sleep taking him, Hermione shook him gently. "We have to get you to see Dumbledore," she said. "Can you stand?"
"Thanks," he said hoarsely and stood, still clutching his wand in one hand and the orb in the other. She took a cloak from her bed and wrapped it around his shoulders as they walked out of the dorms, out of the common room, and into the hall.
"Hermione! Ravenclaw lost, their Keeper is a complete sack of horse sh -- Harry?!"
Harry shut his eyes as the voice swept through him like a cold breeze and left him shivering, feeling dazed.
"Harry!"
He opened his eyes in time to see a shock of red hair and a robe flying toward him before Ron grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into a tight embrace, sending Harry's cloak fluttering to the floor. "It's you," Ron gasped unsteadily into Harry's hair and pulled Harry into a frantic kiss, his hands running over Harry's back and waist as if he was trying to memorize the feel of him. One of his hands ran over the brand embedded on Harry's right hip, and Ron's lips froze against his own. Harry inhaled a breath and buried his head in the crook of Ron's neck.
"Hermione?" he heard Ron ask softly over Harry's shoulder. Whatever Hermione replied was lost to Harry in the blood pounding in his ears. Ron placed both hands on Harry's shoulders and gently pushed him a few steps away.
He hated the way Ron's eyes followed his scars with mingled disgust and revulsion, tracing them down to the tops of his pants. He knew that Ron did not miss the bite marks on his shoulder. As much as he hated them, the scars were the only thing he had left of Legolas. A living memory. He stood swaying on his feet as if drunk, eyes half shut.
"I don't think Harry knows what happened to him," Hermione was saying quietly to Ron. "He asked me how long he'd been gone and he won't tell me where he got the scars and the brand." She evidently noticed Harry listening in and put an arm around his shoulders. "Ron, we were just taking him to Dumbledore."
Ron grinned brightly at Harry, obvious relief in his eyes. Harry smiled slightly back, heart breaking as he imagined Legolas's tentative smiles. He turned away so that Ron couldn't see the single tear that slid down his cheek as he mourned for something perfect that would never be quite so wonderful again.
_________________________________
A/N: Well, it's much longer that the last one. Hoped you like it -- sorry for all the angst. One more chapter and it's alllll over, and happiness will come, don't you worry. *grins* I had to put a plug in there about Draco, since I started writing this fic before I realized how much I despise Ron and love Draco.
Well -- Review for me, so that I can cheer up and try to forget about Riku being stuck with millions of Heartless and all alone without Sora and -- *chokes*