Harry
They arrived quite late in the night, to a city almost completely in ruin and rubble, and Harry was half conscious, everything was so hot, everything burnt, everything hurt, everything was sore, he felt like he was on fire, he could hardly breath without feeling excruciating pain. He was so hot. He felt sick, like at any minute he would vomit. He'd never felt so miserable in his life. He couldn't even groan, for fear he'd bring even more pain on his already pain-filled body. He blinked blearily, his eyes half open. Everything was blurry, nothing came in clear. Everything moved so fast, everything was dizzying. He saw blurry images he assumed they were people. He glanced around at this uneven world. He almost closed his eyes, the constant movement was making him sick, when suddenly they stopped moving. He felt himself being moved into a more flat, warm surface. He gazed around the room, nobody came in to focus. He was about to close his eyes again when suddenly a face came into view. It was more clear than anything else, but it was no one he recognized. But still, it was a kind, concerned face. He seemed to notice Harry was able to see him, for he began to speak slowly and softly, so Harry could understand.
"Hold on, small one. I am Ferimor, Borimor's brother, going to take good care of you, just rest." He said, and smiled softly. Harry couldn't muster a response, so he made a small affirmative nod. Ferimor smiled a little larger, and told him to sleep, and Harry happily complied.
Ferimor and Fellowship
They walked quickly, as Sirius floated Harry into the room. They had felt his forehead, and it was burning hot. He seemed to be disoriented and delusional.
"It's fever, possible pneumonia, in addition to the numerous blood loss and temporary shock from the several days of torture." Borimor explained. They soon came across a place resembling Stonehenge, except with a lot more rubble and buildings. They rushed in, Borimor taking the lead, and wound through the puzzle-like maze of broken towers. They ran, almost literally, into Ferimor. There was a brief hug in greeting, and they got down to business.
"Ferimor, look, we had found acompaniship on or travels, to be honest most of us felt quite attached to him. He grew up almost the same as you did, except slightly worse, he had no father until just last year. He was taken prisoner not long ago, and when we rescued him, he was in serious need of medical attention, can you help him? I know you took healing and have supplies." Borimor explained quickly. Ferimor looked down at the limp form of Harry, and gasped.
"What did they do to him?" He asked after a moment. He gazed sadly down at the child, feeling shocked at how someone could do that to such a small, innocent looking young boy.
"Torture. We don't have much time." Aragorn said quickly. Borimor nodded, and noticed Arian seemed to be able to see him. He spoke words of comfort to the small boy, who nodded and fell asleep. He smiled to himself, and then frowned. Grew up almost the same as him? His father never loved him. Except worse? How could it be worse? Man, this kid has had it rough. He went into the store room and brought out several healing salves.