Note: All notes, important or otherwise are posted at the top of the prologue. I will add more notes when I feel it is necessary. Note containing information on other stories or general info-updates are and will be posted on my bio page. Feel free to browse, it's what it's there for.
Disclaimer: I DO NOT, AND WILL NEVER CLAIM OWNERSHIP OVER HARRY POTTER AND ITS CHARACTERS OR LORD OF THE RINGS AND ITS CHARACTERS.
Fifteen: Tears of rain; of sorrow and pain.
Ah.
'Ah' was all Harry could think in the moments following the removal of his top. This was far from what he'd had planned. He knew he was wearing down – however much his body refused to acknowledge. But, yes. The public unveiling that resulted in his tattoo being exposed was most certainly not one of the planned things he had on his list for that day.
"Skaraé." He spoke gently but with warning laced into his tone also. He felt magic pulse soothingly through his back and smiled. "Thank you." He turned around and settled into a comfortable stance. "When you're ready Erestor."
The Counsellor of Imladris shook his head and closed his mouth with a 'snap'. He wound the knives he had a hold on around his fingers to loosen the joints a little before he too settled himself into a stance. "I'd like to talk to you later." Harry nodded curtly and the pair began to circle.
Gritting his teeth, the half-elf lunged forward and Erestor barely had time to block the attack before knives clashed heavily together. They jumped apart briefly before attacking once again.
Harry aimed a knife at Erestor's chest and one at his hip, both were blocked. The foot the former Gryffindor had kicked out in an attempt to trip the older being was knocked away and it was all Harry could do not to fall over. Instead, he jumped back to steady himself.
Though rest wasn't his for long as the older being began another fast and furious assault.
What followed could only be described by the spectators witnessing it as Art in its truest, most primal form. Eyes locked constantly, not a fault with the movements. The pair danced a dance that few ever have and they danced it to perfection.
"Haldir will not be happy with you." Erestor spoke after forty-five minutes of their silent dance. Harry managed a wry grin between panting breaths he knew his opponent was experiencing also. They were both tiring.
"Indeed." Dodge. Attack. "Neither will Ata'da or Nanitta. But I am sure their curiosity can be appeased easily enough." Erestor actually smiled at the comment.
"The Lady did mention certain… methods you used when allowing herself and Celeborn to view your thoughts."
"The Lady does not know what the word secret means." Harry scowled but the scowl dropped and his face became a mask once again as they flew into yet another round of the bout.
It took a hesitant step from Erestor for Harry to gain and take a hold of the upper hand. And he did so with grace and ease.
The Imladris elf had caught movement on the skin of Harry's right shoulder and paused his approach for the tiniest fraction of a second, but it was all the half-elf seemed to need as he jumped into the air and kicked Erestor in the chest, sending his opponent to the ground with a winding 'thud'.
The dark-haired elf's left knife had been dropped accidentally when the hand holding it had been quickly brought up to his chest as an instinctive reaction. Harry had stood on the knife still firmly in Erestor's other hand much the same as he'd done with Glorfindel, only this time he kneeled down over the fallen elf.
With his knives at both Erestor's throat and his chest, the half-elf shifted, without taking is foot from the knife still firmly in the other's hand, so while his left foot was busy holding the knife down, his right knee was seated quite comfortably (for Harry) in between his opponents legs.
"Words do not do your skill justice." Erestor offered quietly, keeping his discomfort at having a knee so close to him… there, inside for now. Harry smiled.
"You hold a fair amount of it in those hands also my friend."
Harry rose slowly to his feet, re-sheathed his knives and held a hand out for the grounded elf. Erestor took the offered hand and was pulled up. The pair locked eyes and both bowed their heads in respect.
"I will visit you either in the morrow or the day following." The half elf said softly as he began gathering his things. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Royal spectator bend down to pick up the weapons Harry had thrown at his feet. After his things were safely in hand, the victor of the handicap bout turned back to the Imladris Counsellor. "You and Glorfindel both are worthy opponents. Your skill is commendable." Erestor inclined his head in acceptation of the compliment.
Legolas stepped up to the side of his companion and rested a free hand on the half-elf's forearm. The Prince smiled at the dark-haired elf.
"Good day to you Erestor of Imladris." Erestor bowed his head once again.
"And to you, my Lord." With those words said, Harry and Legolas disappeared from the training range in Imladris.
When the pair appeared again, they were no longer in Elrond's land, but the land Harry first set foot into. They were in the talan that had been allocated to the Prince during his stay in Lóthlorien. The blonde in question glanced around the room with a confused look gracing his face.
"How is it you knew where my talan was?" He asked Harry without turning to face him.
"Legolas." The half-elf near whispered. Legolas turned around quickly and gaped at the site his companion made.
Tears were flowing freely down Harry's cheeks, his eyes were bloodshot and the skin under his eyes were quickly becoming red and swollen from excessive tears. His shoulders were shaking and Legolas could see that the legs of the other elf were barely keeping his body upright.
The Mirkwood born elf dropped the weapons he held onto a nearby chair and rushed across the room. He forced Harry to drop the numerous items he held to the floor and then led him to the bed.
He sat the half-elf down and proceeded to remove the other's boots and the other items of clothing he donned. When Harry was stripped down to an item Legolas didn't think the former-Gryffindor would appreciate being removed at this point, the blonde manoeuvred his friend into a horizontal position.
When Harry was safely underneath the blanket on the bed, the Prince rid himself of all clothing save his leggings. He then slipped between the covers and held Harry close to his chest, letting him cry, never once complaining.
Harry cried for what seemed like forever. He cried for Dumbledore, he cried for the loss his old world had suffered. He cried so hard and his emotions were such a wreck that outside their talan, the heavens opened and for the first time in many-a-year the land of Lóthlorien was doused with mournful rains.
The inhabitant's of the land stared at the skies and they were all thinking the same thing.
The last time Caras Galadhon witnessed such sorrow and felt such pain was when the Princess Anéthiel, star of Siryái left Middle-Earth. Their lady had not emerged from her catatonic state until near 4 month after.
x-x-x-x-x-x
"Never before has such heartache been known to me." The Queen Altáriël, wife of Thranduil and Mother of Legolas said quietly as she wrapped her arms around her middle in a vain attempt to keep the feeling of pain from washing over her. Her husband stepped up behind her and wound his own arms around her waist, resting his head on her shoulder.
The pair were in the talan that the Lord and Lady of Lorien offered them during their stay in the land. Their travelling companions were in a talan not far from theirs and they knew their son had one on a level above their own.
"I have." Thranduil whispered, shivering slightly. "Once only and for that small mercy I am forever thankful." He continued. "When my Mother was taken from us, my Father cried. It was the only time I had ever seen tears fall from his kind eyes. He had always told me that Wood-Elves hold within their hearts a certain affinity with the elements that the Elves of other realms lack. That is not to say we are better, merely different.
"When I saw him crying, I too allowed my tears to shed themselves. We sat together and cried for her. I remember outside, the rain poured for months and our kingdom felt our pain. Groups and families travelled here, unable to take the sheer distress we were in. My father did nothing to stop them, he encouraged them to visit the Golden Wood, speak with the Lady. She is wise and fair, highest of all Elves in Middle-Earth." He stopped speaking and they both watched the rain pour.
"Who could be in such a terrible amount of hurt?" Altáriël voice her thoughts. "An ache as this cannot be from Legolas, can it not?" Thranduil smiled against his partner's hair.
"Nay, my love. Our child has no need for sadness in his life at this time."
x-x-x-x-x-x
Harry lay on his side, he felt a pair of arms wrapped around him tightly as well as a foreign pair of legs doing a fine job at creating a tangled mess under the blanket.
He had stopped crying half an hour ago and had drifted into a fitful, short-lived slumber. He could hear soothing words being spoken to him in a mere whisper of a voice. He recognised the tongue as Elvish, and the voice as belonging to his Prince.
"Legolas." Harry breathed, his throat croaking slightly. He heard the speaking stop and found himself missing its peaceful tone.
Legolas leaned back to look at his companions face and instantly his heart ached for him. Such grief there was etched on his beautiful features. "Is there anything you wish for?" He asked the saddened half-elf.
"Water… thanks." The Prince slowly and gently disentangled himself from the other's grasp and rose from the bed. He noticed Harry sitting up and swinging his legs around over the side of the bed but did not comment – instead he did as asked and retrieved a glass of water.
When the liquid was acquired the blonde handed it over. Harry took the offered glass with a warm, grateful smile before taking a few sips of the contents.
"Listen, I'm sorry about breaking down back there." He said, his eyes downcast. "My emotions, my deepest most inner emotions are never on show. I keep them locked behind a wall that I try my hardest to keep stable. But today…" He sighed. "But today I needed this outlet. I needed to grieve. My feelings were bottling up inside me and had I not acted when I did, they would have consumed me and destroyed my soul." He heard Legolas gasp in shock and smiled ruefully.
"The process would not be over night, but I feared none the less." He shifted on the bed and placed his glass down on the ground. He then reached out and grasped the blonde's hands in his own, looking straight into the other's eyes. "I don't know what this new feeling is inside me, but I know it's good. My heart swells when I feel you near me, my stomach turns when I see your soulful smile. I don't know what's happening to me, but I know I would not be happy with you not in my life." He pulled the elf towards him, wrapped his arms around Legolas' waist and buried his face in the Prince's cloth covered stomach.
Not knowing what to do or say, Legolas held Harry's head in place with his hands. He closed his eyes and revelled in the moment. He knew he felt something for the half-elf though he did not know what. It wasn't quite love, but love wasn't out of the picture either.
x-x-x-x-x-x
"His pain recedes slightly." Galadriel spoke softly from her seated position on the balcony to her and her husband's chamber. The rain still fell, though the canopy above her head shielded her from it.
"Slightly." Celeborn said as he rested a comforting hand on his wife's shoulder.
"He is not alone." The Lady of the Wood cast her eyes over her kingdom. "I wish to take him in my arms and protect him from the harsh reality and cold heart of the world. But I have seen his past. His soul is old, older than ours, older than Erestor's. Heir to the legend Gryffindor, then so Heir to the Myth of Merlin, so many stars to his name, his mother's by right, his Godfather's by love, fairness and all that lies between." A lone tear falls down her porcelain cheek and is captured effortlessly by her husband.
"Legolas will take care of him, and Harry will take care of Legolas in turn. His soul may be old, but his heart is still young."
Written by Messrmarauder (aka Ithil hin)