Chapter 7
As soon as Harry came out of the room, the first thing he
noticed were the people. They all turned to stare at him, watching him with
astonished, curious eyes. Harry felt awkward that he should be famous in two
worlds.
The people were wearing fairly simply clothes; plain colours of a rough
material, yet there was something like triumph as they parted to let them pass.
Eowyn walked with Harry, a comforting arm around him, always at his side,
showing him the way. Harry was more glad of her presence than he could say; she
gave him confidence, and he found that sometimes he could return people's
stares with a smile.
There were less and less people as they walked - Harry
noticed they were going upwards all the while.
They came to a very long, winding staircase. Eowyn smiled at him.
"Gandalf is waiting for you up here. This is quite a long staircase, for
which I apologise in advance, Harry." She laughed.
Harry paused for a moment, looking at her. He had never seen her laugh before.
It was somehow beautiful; the one time Eowyn could forget her troubles in her
waking moments.
He smiled back at her.
"I don't mind, Eowyn."
"Then upwards we go," she replied with a broad smile.
They began to climb the stairs. Harry did not generally
mind climbing staircases, but after a few minutes his legs were starting to
ache. The steps became smaller as they got higher, and Harry did not want to
look out of the small windows - which he noticed had no glass.
He looked at Eowyn at his side. She showed no sign of tiredness; she simply
stared straight ahead, climbing the stairs with ease. Harry marvelled at her
strength, both physical and mental.
She seemed to sense his need to rest.
"Are you all right, Harry?" she said, stopping, turning to look at
him.
Harry paused, and nodded.
"I-I'm fine. I'm just..." his voice trailed off and he looked down at
the steps beneath his feet.
Eowyn lifted one beautiful hand, her long, elegant sleeve flowing with it. Her
fingers met his chin, lifting it up, making him look at her.
"What?" she asked softly.
His eyes filled with tears at her concern, but he blinked them away and smiled
bravely.
"Nervous, I suppose."
She placed both of her hands on his shoulders.
"All will work out in the end, Harry. Believe that and it will take you
through the hard times."
He nodded.
"If you trust nothing else, trust that."
He looked straight into her eyes.
"The thing I will always trust is you, Eowyn."
Their embrace was strong, deep, meaningful...and most of all, needed.
They broke apart, and Harry noticed that tears had formed
in Eowyn's eyes. She was extremely touched at what he had said.
Suddenly, a thought struck Harry.
"Eowyn," he said, "Do you know why I'm here?"
She avoided his gaze for a moment, then looked at him.
"I do not know why you are here, Harry," she said honestly. "I
know a little, but I am not completely sure of your significance in our fight.
I know hardly anything about who you are and what you mean in your world."
Harry thought for a moment. What did he mean in his world that could possibly
have any mention here?
Eowyn interrupted his thoughts.
"Come on, Harry. We are nearly there."
They made the rest of the journey in silence, side by
side. Harry did not dare look at Eowyn; he was lost in his own thoughts once
more, contemplating her words.
He believed she was telling the truth when she said she did not know what he
was here for, yet it did not comfort him at all...what could the reason
possibly be...?
The stairs were beginning to turn and Harry realised that there were only five
of them left in front of him. There was an opening in front of him, where a
small group of people stood watching him. He recognised them, though he was not
sure where from.
Behind them was a door. It was closed.
Harry stared at the three of them, and they stared back at
him. He now knew where he recognised them from.
There was the man called Aragorn, still with his warrior-like appearance, although
he no longer had his huge sword visible.
There was the tall man who possessed a seemingly ageless quality, with his
long, deep blonde hair and pale skin. He too no longer held any weapons, as did
the third recognisable figure, a man shorter than Harry with long ginger hair
and beard.
He had seen them when he had first arrived here last night; they had stood with
Gandalf. Where was Gandalf?
Harry glanced at Eowyn. She placed a light but comforting hand on his back, and
guided him towards the three people. She beckoned to Aragorn and he stepped
forward, avoiding Harry's eyes.
"Your brought him; thank you, Eowyn," he said. "Gandalf is
anxious to see him."
He looked at the door behind him, before turning back to Harry, though never
looking him in the eyes.
"But first, I would like you to meet my companions, Harry Potter."
Harry Potter. Formal, like Eowyn had once been, Harry thought. These people
seemed so untrusting.
Aragorn turned back to the others. Eowyn glanced at Harry.
"Aragorn knows why you are here," she whispered, as he leaned in to
talk to the man with blonde hair.
"He does?"
She nodded.
"Gandalf has only told him and one other; my Uncle, King Theoden."
Harry looked over at Aragorn and the blonde man. Was that why he wouldn't look
him in the eye? What was his purpose here?
Aragorn turned back to Harry.
"As you may already have heard from Gandalf or Eowyn, my name is Aragorn,
son of Arathorn."
Harry did not understand why Aragorn said his father's name, but remained
quiet. His manner appeared friendly, but his eyes that never met Harry's were
wary, cautious. Harry nodded and took Aragorn's outstretched hand. Aragorn did
not shake his hand as such; he simply gripped it firmly.
The blonde man stepped forward. Despite his appearance of a warrior, his step
was light and he possessed a natural grace.
"I am Legolas of the Woodland Realm," he said, in a rich, warm,
friendly voice that Harry instantly took to, although he found the name odd. He
had no idea what the man meant by the "Woodland Realm" either. He
expected Legolas to take his hand as Aragorn had done, but he placed his hand
on his heart and inclined his head in a respectful manner. Harry imitated him,
although he was slightly confused.
The third, very short man, took several steps forward.
"I am Gimli, son of Gloin," he said in a very deep, rumbling voice
that took Harry by surprise. The man's size did not match his voice. Gimli felt
that was all that he needed to say, and Harry felt the awkwardness of the
moment, although he was not quite sure everyone else did.
He glanced at Eowyn instinctively.
Eowyn smiled at him, sensing his confusion and unease.
"Gandalf is waiting for you inside, Harry," she said, smiling and
gesturing at the door.
The three men parted to let Harry walk through. He took his first step and
looked back at Eowyn.
"Don't be afraid, Harry. Gandalf needs to explain to you. Please,"
she said, "Go to talk to him."
Her hand rested on his shoulder, and he was comforted by it, assured.
"Thank you for everything, Eowyn," he said. "Thank you so
much."
She smiled and nodded, slight tears forming in her eyes. Her hand lifted off
his shoulder and found his.
"Remember," she whispered. "While Gandalf is explaining to you,
Aragorn shall be explaining to all of us. I am nervous too."
He stared at her for a moment.
"Perhaps we shall look at each other differently when I return."
She shook her head.
"No, Harry. No matter what is said, whether good or bad, you did not ask
for any of it. You are, and always will be, a true friend to me."
Their hands stayed clasped together for a moment more, until they both found
themselves able to draw away.
