Master of the Ring
Chapter Eight: Et Earello Endorenna utulien
The Enterprise Beta was cloaked, and orbiting Dendoria II at a respectful distance. Captain Sorek was well aware of his ships' abilities, but saw no need to invite extra risk. He was talking to Colonel Shepard via the undetectable Quantum Entanglement Communication system.
"It is as we suspected, Colonel." He said. "This world is almost entirely devoted to the creation of the CyBorg combat drones. Shiploads of people from the various captured worlds are being brought here. They are already infected with nanoprobes, but have been selected for what the CyBorg refer to as 'upgrading'. However, there are a number of large complexes on the southern continent which are too heavily-shielded for us to scan without alerting them to our actions."
"So you need us to go and take a look?" Shepard asked.
"Discreetly, Colonel. By which I mean that you should try to avoid blowing up more than one of them." Sorek said.
"Hey!" Shepard protested. "That second brain-factory self-destructed! We didn't even go in there! Not physically anyway."
"Nevertheless." Sorek said. "I feel constrained to remind you that while the Enterprise Beta is capable of defending itself, it is not a warship!"
"I know, I know!" Shepard replied. "We'll do our best!"
XXXXX
Aboard the Raven, Shepard turned to face his team.
"Every one get that?" He asked.
There was general nodding and grunting, apart from Wexx, who said in a pained voice "I'm always discreet!"
"Yeah, discreet like a wrecking ball!" Sergeant Nemarovna told him.
"He's using the Gorn definition of 'discreet'." Garun noted. "The one that means 'leave one thing standing'."
"Finally!" Wexx said. "Somebody who understands Gorn culture!"
"Gorn culture?" Kaidan asked. "Isn't that a contradiction in terms, like, what, Klingon cuisine?"
"You don't like the way we cook our food?" Gunny B'ragh asked.
"Cook it?" Lara commented. "Most of the time you don't even kill it!"
"Enough, people!" Shepard said with a grin. "I know, it's been a month and we're all getting frazzled, but this is the last job before we head back. Let's make it a good one, OK?
"Ash, take us in!"
Captain Worf, who was nobodys' fool about such things, had contrived to have Lieutenant Williams assigned as regular pilot to Shepards' team. She knew exactly what was expected of her as she slipped the Raven into the atmosphere and set her down.
"OK." She said. "We're in a forest, about two klicks north of the complex. They don't seem to have a lot of security about, but there are unmanned checkpoints."
"Installation can't be that sensitive, then." Kaidan commented.
"Perhaps." Shepard said. "But it could also be that this is deep in their territory, a long way from Federation or Imperial space, and they're stretched thin on the border. According to what we've found so far, less than ten per cent of the people they assimilate are deemed fit for upgrading to combat drones. What they have, they don't want to waste on security duty."
"The Cybermen used to be a lot less picky." Talia noted. "Two of everything you should have used to be enough!"
"They also got their asses handed to them. A lot." Wexx pointed out.
"Never mind!" Shepard said. "Kaidan, take point, Wexx, watch our six. Garun and Lara, flanks. Move out!"
The forest was pathless, but not overly tangled, as the thick canopy overhead did not encourage riotous undergrowth.
"How come this is still here?" Garun wanted to know.
"Neither the Borg nor the Cybermen concerned themselves with nature." B'ragh replied. "If the forest was not in their way or otherwise an inconvenience, they would ignore it. It seems the CyBorg are the same."
Kaidan turned back and signalled for silence. The forest was coming to an end. From under the eaves, they considered their options. The complex was surrounded by a high, thick concrete wall.
"Metal rods in there, and a structural integrity field." Talia told them. "No way through it without heavy gear and the field makes the surface too slick to climb even if we had the equipment. There's an entrance with a road leading to it about half a klick further on."
"What, you want us to just march up to the gate?" Garun asked.
"Actually, yes." Talia said. "I've been studying CyBorg transmissions. Whatever else they might be doing, all the nanoprobes transmit a base signal, like an IFF, all the time. It's all the scanners on the gate look for. I can rig our communicators to transmit the same signal, it should get us past."
"Right up until somebody sees us." B'ragh said.
Lara shook her head. "The ordinary work drone won't notice us." She said. "Their minds are locked on completing their tasks. They don't have enough individual initiative to pay attention to anything beyond that. The combat drones do, but unless one actually sees or hears us, they won't react, either."
"Can you do anything to their minds?" Kaidan asked.
Lara shrugged. "Hard to say. Coercion -the ability to influence another persons' mind – isn't my strongest talent, for one thing. For another, even the combat drones are largely run by the nanoprobes and cybernetic augmentations to their organic brains. I might be able to confuse one for a few seconds, but a wizard with an Imperius or Confundus would have a better chance. I've enough TK to pick one up and throw it a couple hundred metres, mind you!"
"Useful to know." Shepard said. "Ok, Tech Sergeant, we'll try it your way."
"And if we get killed?" Garun asked.
"Walk it off!" B'ragh told him.
Talias' technique worked perfectly. The scanners on the gate did not react to the squad in any way other than to raise the barrier. "Techno-bureaucracy," she remarked, "the system assumes that any drone coming here has a job to do here. No need to check."
"When you assume, you make an ass out of u and me both." B'ragh commented.
"When did Klingons learn to spell?" Garun wondered.
"About the same time Romulans learned to control their bladders in a fire-fight!" Was the growled reply.
The complex was laid out in a grid pattern, but there were no signs or notices anywhere. The CyBorg drones always knew where to go. On the other hand, neither did they bother to hide, cover or otherwise mask their power-conduits, cables and other systems. By following where the main ones went, it wasn't hard to find their goal, a massive cylindrical structure.
"What," Kaidan wondered, "are they doing in here?"
"You ever go to the old Kennedy Space Centre on Earth?" Shepard asked.
"I've never been to Earth." Kaidan replied. "I was born on the Proxima colony."
"Oh, right, yeah!" Shepard said. "Anyway, there's a building there -one of the ones that got rebuilt after the war – called the Vertical Assembly Building. It was where they used to put together the big, multi-stage rockets for the first Luna missions. This reminds me of it."
"Well, nobody uses multi-stage rockets now." Lara said. "How do we get in?"
There was no ground-level entrance, but a metal staircase wound its way up the building to the half-way point, before bringing them out onto a gallery. What they saw there silenced them all for a moment.
"Is that what it looks like?" Talia said quietly. "I mean, I've seen the history vids and holos, but…!"
"A Cyber-King Invasion Unit." Shepard told her. "Modified, but definitely a Cyber-King."
The thing might have been around three hundred metres tall. The torso was rectangular, resembling an old-style Borg cube, but it had legs and arms and was topped with a giant version of a Cyber-head.
"Space for at least a regiment of combat drones in the lower torso." Shepard said. The chest is a Cyber-factory. There are twenty to thirty Converters in there, each capable of pumping out a combat-ready drone in less than five minutes. As long as it has power and a steady supply of humanoids, it can produce troops round the clock for as long as needed. It's also heavily-shielded and armed to the teeth. But it needs a specialised pilot."
"Like the ones they were making in those other plants?" Talia asked.
"Just like those!" Shepard said. "All right, we've seen what we need to see. Let's get out of here!"
XXXXX
"It's not as complicated as all that, My Lord Seeker." Lord White was saying. "Obviously, people being what they are, there were a great many more Human/Aeldari pairings than the three which history records. Add to this that my former associates, Radagast, Alatar and Pallando, also took Human wives – several each over the course of the Ages – and you have more than enough advanced DNA to create a substantial wizard population. The Line of Luthien, by its very nature, is a wizard one, and the Kings of that line had many powers of mind and hand, though they were not called wizard.
"After the Great Cataclysm, the Line was thought lost, and the scions of it kept the secret, for the world had changed, and they were unsure of their place in it. Eventually, the muggle branch died out, save for one family, but wizards, with their concern for bloodlines, preserved the Line unknowingly."
"So there are muggles with my bloodline?" Harry interrupted. "Wouldn't one of them be better?"
White grinned. "Nice try, Harry! But no, the Atreides are a cadet branch, you are in the direct line, and the eldest surviving scion. Besides, the Bene Gesserit have been meddling with the Atreides line for millennia, and we don't know what they might have built into the genes besides a penchant for autocratic rule."
Harry nodded. "Minerva told me about the Sisterhood before she died. She said they'd always been afraid to meddle with wizard bloodlines. A Kwisatz Haderach who was also a wizard would be too unpredictable and dangerous."
"Quite so," White acknowledged, "but it does mean, My Lord Seeker, that you are, as it were, stuck with it! However, you may find that there are compensations."
He pointed behind Harry, who turned. He hadn't heard her enter the room, but then he wouldn't have. She'd let her hair grow, he saw, and it fell to her shoulders, framing her face in a way that revealed a strong resemblance to her mother he'd never noticed before. Her dark eyes, usually so fierce and direct, held the special soft luminosity she reserved for him. She was wearing black and silver, as he was, and held a small box in her hands.
"Hello, Harry." She said softly.
"Rose." He said. "You scrub up nicely!"
She laughed, then said "I've got something for you!" She opened the box, and green light flooded out.
"The Elessar!" White said in wonder. "I heard that the Drukhari had seized it, and that their evil had drained its power. How was it restored?"
"A certain Commander Sarek Potter, of the Rangers." Rose said. "You should meet him, Harry. He's a lot like you, except being half-Vulcan, he's a bit more logical."
Harry shrugged. "Logic was Hermiones' thing, I never rated it. Slows you down. There are a lot of my descendants I suppose I should meet, but I wouldn't want to disappoint them!
"So I take it this Elessar thing is another bit of regalia like the sword and the coronet?"
"Yes and no." White told him. "Anduril is a fine weapon of its kind, better than most, but has little intrinsic power. The Elendilmir also has little power except to strike fear into the heart of the enemy when worn by one worthy of it. But the Elessar is a tool of great power. The Aeldari crystal at its heart has the power to increase fertility in the land and to protect against decay and the ravages of time. Also, it has the virtue of healing, and will allow you to better use your latent abilities in that area."
"Didn't know I had any!" Harry remarked. "I mean, I've always been fairly good at patching people up after a scrap, but…"
"The hands of a King are the hands of a healer, and so shall the true King be known." White seemed to be quoting someone. "You always had the talent, Harry, but you chose not to train as a Healer."
"But there's a bit of a problem." Rose said. "You have the right by blood to use the Elessar, but you can't use it to its' full power because it's been held by others for so long. In order to fully recharge it, it has to be a gift from a Queen. Specifically, your Queen. You don't have one."
"Don't I?" Harry asked, meeting her eyes squarely.
Unusually, she dropped her own eyes before answering. "Harry, I've loved you since I was fifteen years old! We've been lovers for, what, thirty years now? But this is a bit different, and I know your first marriage didn't…"
"It was never supposed to happen!" Harry told her. "I'll explain later. But for now, I love you, you love me, you're of Royal blood through your Mum, so…"
He made to take a knee, but Rose held up a hand.
"Don't you fucking dare, Harry Potter! If you want to marry me, stand like a man, look me in the eye and ask me straight. I won't answer otherwise!"
"OK." Harry grinned, but his face was serious as he asked. "Rose Ororo Monroe Howlett, will you marry me?"
"Damn straight I will!" She replied. "Queen Rose and King Harry – who could pass that up?"
"Not King Harry." He said. "Harry Potter is fine for a Minister of Magic, but the King of Men needs something a bit more. I know Aragorn took the surname Telcontar, the Strider, so I'll keep that. But for my regnal name, well, I'm still, and always will be, a Gryffindor, so I'll be crowned as King Godric!"
"And God bless all who sail in her!" Rose added, with a grin.
XXXXX
Cicaros' fleet dropped out of warp and cloaked immediately. This system had once had an asteroid belt, but centuries of mining had left nothing but a cloud of dust, thick enough to hide the fleet for the few seconds necessary. There was no need for orders, as fifty ships, all that was left of the Romulan Navy, moved toward the colony of Ashitar. This was a major trade hub and resupply depot for the Klingon Empire. No more raiding of small settlements, no more ambushing lightly-escorted trade convoys. This was to be a blow that would resound throughout Klingon space! The first of many!
Soon, the Empire would be scrambling to bring all it's fleets to this sector. Soon, throughout Alliance space, Romulan exiles would be being interned, hunted down. In desperation, they would come to him and swell his forces. Klingon ships would be captured to increase the Fleet. Then when The Master unleashed his CyBorg on the Federation, the Klingons would be stripped of the support of the mighty StarFleet, while Cicaro would gain CyBorg support. A new Romulan Star Empire would be founded among the ruins of Qo'noS!
Now, they were within range. A squadron of Klingon corvettes and one Bird of Prey were in orbit as planetary guard. The ground defences had been unused for centuries, the garrison was small and lazy. This would be easy!
"Decloak, and begin the attack!" Cicaro ordered.
Fifty Romulan warbirds decloaked, and a second later, so did a hundred Klingon warships, including at least ten heavy cruisers. Over every channel, the voice of the Klingon Admiral Koth demanded their immediate surrender. Cicaros' fleet was surrounded, and while a few attempted to fight, their immediate destruction was enough to make the other commanders heave to and power their weapons down.
Now the Klingon flagship was approaching Cicaros' vessel. Well, if this was the end, he would take this Koth with him.
"Commander Tanith!" He snapped. "Enable the self-destruct! Prepare to detonate when the Klingons come alongside!"
His XO didn't respond to him. Instead she announced: "Attention all crew! Stand down and prepare to be boarded. Do not resist, you will be treated honourably as prisoners of war under the Khitomer Accords.
"Admiral Koth, this is Commander Tanith. I have Cicaro in custody pending your arrival.
"Cicaro, you will find that your disruptor has a replica powerpack." She turned in her seat and levelled her weapon at him. "Mine, on the other hand, is fully charged! Please feel free to try to escape!"
Cicaro stayed in his seat. "Traitor!" He hissed.
"I wonder." She put her head on one side. "Which one of us is truly the traitor to the Romulan people?"
"How did you do this?" He asked.
"More easily than you think!" She said. "You were a fool, Cicaro. I presented myself to you with the credentials of a dead Tal'shiar commander, and you automatically trusted me. You allowed me to oversee the recruitment of most of your forces -something a true leader would have done themselves. So I recruited people who had one special quality. All of them have lost friends, family, property or status at the hands of the Tal'shiar! Only a few were really loyal to you, and they were the ones whose ships are now destroyed.
"My name – my real name – is Sorana, of the line of Retok. The same line whose descendants your agents hunted down and slaughtered because one of your supporters in the Senate wanted their land. Now you will face a Klingon prison and I will go to Romulus and help the Federation engineers who are cleansing our homeworld from the damage done by the Dalek neutron bombs. I will never live on my familys' lands again, but my children will!"
You are a fool, Cicaro! The Masters' voice was in his head. Had you used your Ring as I taught you, this treachery could not have happened! As it is, you pay the price of failure!
Cicaro convulsed in his chair, then collapsed, quite dead. The ring he had been wearing was later discovered to have melted into inert slag around his finger.
XXXXX
There was already enough tension in the room, and the arrival of The Master, clearly in a rage, only made it worse.
"Damned fool of a Romulan!" He spat.
"Lost another battle, did he?" The Rani asked.
"Worse!" The Master snapped. "His own deputy, under his very nose, I might add, packed his forces with people who hated the Tal'shiar and all it stood for, then betrayed him at a key moment. Cicaro only used his Ring to hold back his ageing process. He relied on Romulan discipline and loyalty for the rest!"
"Well, obviously it worked!" The Rani pointed out with a smirk. "Just not quite as either of you intended!"
"We stated that reliance on the Romulan was inadvisable." The CyBorg Queen noted. "You should have used us."
"There still aren't enough of you!" The Master said. "You refusal to convert all prisoners into combat drones is slowing us down."
"Utility drones are necessary to maintain the CyBorg fabric." The Queen replied. "That was the mistake both of our elements made. The Borg created millions of generic drones who were less effective in combat. The Cybermen created thousands of combat drones, many of which were built from inferior material, but had little or no infrastructure to rely on."
"I know, I understand and you're right, of course." The Master was calmer now. "But time has suddenly become an issue! The plan was for Cicaro to destabilise the Empire, so that Korak could lead a coup and repeal the Khitomer Accords, putting an end to the Alliance and isolating the Federation. While that was going on, the Reverend Mother was supposed to be destabilising the Federation itself.
"Only now, Cicaro's dead and the Reverend Mother was captured by Section 31, not only exposing her own network, but handing over the entirety of HYDRA, an organisation whose assets I'd been counting on!
"Worse, Julian Bashir now has Mohiam's Ring! That man is a genetically-augmented genius with access to every database in the Alpha Quadrant. It's only a matter of time before he realises what the Ring is and talks to the wizards. The wizards are in contact with the Aeldari, and I've already got a Farseer breathing down my neck!
"Tell me you're doing better!"
"Yes and no." The Rani said. "I've got the genetic augmentations ready. They'll upgrade any suitable humanoid into superior material for assimilation into a combat drone. But at the moment, the augmentation has to be done first, which will make assimilation of the augments more difficult. Ideally, the augmentations should be introduced via the nanoprobes on assimilation, but Her Majesty here isn't happy about that!"
"We abandoned genetic augmentation in favour of cybernetic ages past." The Queen pointed out. "Genetic augmentation can be unpredictable in its outcomes, as the Kree discovered to their cost. To adapt the nanoprobes to deliver genetic augmentation would require amendment to our base code. A risk assessment is necessary. This will take time, as would the necessary editing, If we were to spend less time in discussion, it would be done more quickly."
"Then go and get on with it, please." The Master said. The Queen left without a word. The Master turned to The Rani.
"Where is he?"
"The Valeyard?" She asked. "Either at Deep Space Nine or already in the Wormhole. With any luck, he'll be able to close it and keep the Dominion out of things."
"Well, let's hope he doesn't seal himself in there, too!" The Master growled. "The last thing we need is The Doctor turning up!"
XXXXX
"You're absolutely sure?" The Grand Nagus asked.
"Completely." The Chief Auditor assured him. "Yerbo has always been a slippery one, you understand. He evades as much tax as he can, but so do we all, and it's understood. But it's also understood that Ferengi earn their money through business dealings and make profit.
"Yerbo, however, has gone, what's the Human phrase, 'off reservation'! His original businesses are all running normally and profitably, certainly. But he is also investing large sums in other, non-Ferengi, companies. Money that comes from nowhere that we can find, goes into a maze of shell companies and then ends up in various 'not-for-profit'" she spoke the phrase as though it burned her mouth, "organisations. Political ones on the more radical, anti-Federation, side of things."
"Not good." The Grand Nagus noted. "Not only is it letting politics get in the way of business, but the Federation is our largest trading partner! But I can't be seen to intervene directly in what isn't, after all, a direct breach of Ferengi law."
"I agree." The Auditor said. "But we have to shut Yerbo down somehow. We need somebody as cunning and ruthless as he is!"
"Hmm." The Grand Nagus suddenly grinned. "Leave it with me, Chief Auditor. I'm going to have a talk with my brother!"
XXXXX
The planet was in the Hyades sector, orbiting a G-type yellow sun. It was a Class M world, very similar to Earth, with a single moon, large oceans and three continents. Admiral Riker zoomed in on the largest of these, which stretched from the Equator to the Northern Polar region, directing the scanner to the temperate zone.
"The planet, according to the Federation Database, is Hyades Omicron Three." He said. "But the colonists call it Numenor, of course. It was first colonised in the 22nd Century as a closed charter colony accepting only people whose lineage was traceable back to the Dunedain or the Rohirrim. Not that that was the information given to the UAE back then! But a lot of the older charter colonies were based around specific ethnicities, religions and cultures. The thinking back then was that giving them all separate worlds would stop the conflicts that kept arising. It's worked, after a fashion, but most of the central colonies have adapted to a cosmopolitan culture."
"But not this one?" Harry asked.
"Not many people know of it, Your Majesty." Riker admitted. "That's deliberate, of course. It's well of the beaten track. But also, the fact is that it isn't only Caucasian people who have those bloodlines. Over the ages, the Dunedain intermarried with many peoples. Apart from the few like yourself, whose bloodlines stayed direct more by accident than design, Numenorean descent is more of a feeling than an ethnicity. Certain character traits and ancestral memories that can stay dormant for generations, then pop up in surprising places. You'll find people of almost every human ethnicity down there, as well as Vulcan, Romulan, Klingon, Betazoid and Bajoran half or quarter bloods. There's also a community of Silurians, both aquatic and terrestrial.
"There is industry and trade, but it's mostly craft-based rather than heavy industry. A lot of care has been taken to ensure that the environment is protected. We have clean power-sources and replicators. But so far we've only occupied and fully explored the one continent. Another aspect of Dunedain descent is a tendency toward greater longevity and slower breeding. Most people have only two or three children, so population expansion is relatively slow."
"Admiral!" This was the Communications Officer. "We have signals from Craftworld Lothlorien and the Ironfoots' Axe. We're all just waiting for the go-ahead groundside."
"Understood." Riker said. "Well, Your Majesty, you'd better go and put your working clothes on!"
XXXX
When Harry arrived in the Transporter Room, he was clad in black mail, over which was a black surcoat embroidered with Seven Stars and a Silver Tree on the breast. He wore a long black cloak, secured at the shoulder with the Elessar brooch, on his head was a helm similar to that of a Norman knight, with a high, pointed crown and long cheek guards, but decorated with white wings at the sides. The helm was so designed that the gem of the Elendilmir, which he wore underneath, shone in the centre of his forehead. The long sword Anduril, in its' Elven sheath, hung at his side.
Queen Rose awaited him, in a white gown decorated with the forms of trees and flowers in golden thread, picked out with coloured gems, a golden circlet on her head. Her face more solemn than usual, she dropped him a small curtsey before taking his hand.
There also was Lord White, in robes of his colour, bearing a long ash staff. Finally, Admiral Riker and four Rangers in full dress greys, with silver seven-pointed stars in place of the StarFleet badges. They all bowed.
"All right." King Godric Telcontar said. "Let's get this over with!"
They beamed down into cool Spring sunlight, onto a paved road that ran between two well-kept lawns toward the white walls of a city. Harry squeezed Roses' hand.
"That city is your capital, Armenelos, City of the Kings." White said. "Come, we are awaited!"
After a short while, the route became lined with people. People of all kinds, but each dressed in their best. As the party passed, the women curtseyed, and the men bowed their heads, placing a hand over the heart. Harry could sense the anticipation among them, a deep joy for an event long looked forward to.
Ahead of them, the road expanded into a square plaza that lay before the gates. Three men stood there, and as the party approached, they made to bow.
"Oh, no!" King Godric said. "Whatever else, you three bow to nobody, ever!"
"Told you he'd say that!" Deadpool noted.
"Yes, but courtesy – not that you'd know about that – required that we show willing." Duncan told him.
"OK for you!" Logan growled. "He ain't your son-in-law!"
"Shut up!" Harry told them. "Nothing changes with us three, right? We find trouble, we deal with it. If there's no trouble, we make some! Now come with me!"
Half way to the gates, two more groups awaited them.
The Farseer Galadriel made her courtesy to the King. "Mae govannen, kinsman. Know that while your kingdom stands, you shall have the friendship of the Asuryani!"
"You have my thanks." The King replied. "Be assured that your friendship will be honoured and returned."
The other group were humanoids, but short, none taller than five feet, and very stocky. They wore armour and carried weapons of a clean and functional design. One, who wore a steel crown, stepped forward and bowed to Harry.
"Durin, Fourteenth of the name, King of the Dwarfs, at your service." He said.
Harry returned the bow. "Godric Telcontar, King of Men, at yours and your peoples'." He replied.
Durin bowed again. "It is not forgotten among our people that you were the one who freed us from the domination of the Orcs." He said. "We left Arda before your folk did, and made a new home on a different world. We are now many and prosperous, but would wish for the ancient friendship between Elves, Dwarfs and Men to be renewed. For the Galaxy has many perils, and stout allies would be good to have, trusted friends better.
"This then I offer in the name and memory of Gimli son of Gloin, Lord of the Glittering Caves."
The King replied. "I accept your offer, in the name and memory of Aragorn son of Arathorn, Heir of Isildur."
"I too accept your offer." The Farseer Galadriel said. "Also in the name of Gimli Lockbearer, most valiant, loyal and beloved of my champions."
Then they came to the gate, which was closed. Before it stood a lone man, clearly of Klingon descent, wearing black and silver as Harry was, but with a white cloak and carrying a white rod. He knelt and offered the rod to Harry.
"I, Alexander Rozhenko, son of Worf, Steward of Numenor, herewith surrender my office."
Harry took the rod, then handed it back. "I'll need a Steward." He said. "Someone who's travelled with my old friend The Doctor should be more than qualified!
"Now, do what you have to do!"
Rozhenko took the rod and rose to his feet, then activated the microphone at his throat.
"People of Numenor!" His voice boomed over the area. "Here stands Godric Telcontar, Heir of Elessar, Heir of Isildur, Heir of Elendil, descended in the true line from Elros Tar-Minyatur, son of Earendil son of Tuor and Idril, and Elwing the White, daughter of Dior son of Beren and Luthien Tinuviel. He bears the Sword Reforged, the Star of the North Kingdom and the Elessar. He has lived long and known both victory and defeat. His name is spoken with respect by Men of good will, and with fear by those of ill.
"Is it your will that he enter the city and be King of Men?"
The answer was deafening cheering from both inside and outside the city.
"I think we can call that a yes!" Alexander said, then turned and struck the gate three times with his rod. The gate swung open.
"Will you enter, my King?" He asked.
Harry stepped forward, then paused at the threshold. Raising his head, he spoke in a clear, ringing voice.
"Et Earello Endorenna utulien. Sinome maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn' Ambar-metta!"
"So is your lineage proven." White said. "Nobody taught you those words!"
"I didn't even know what they meant until I said them!" Harry allowed.
"The Oath of Elendil." White said. "I stood beside Aragorn when he spoke them before the gates of Minas Tirith, after Sauron fell."
"My King, the banquet awaits!" Alexander reminded them.
"Banquet?" Deadpool said.
"As in food?" Rose asked.
"The best our cooks can provide!" Alexander promised.
"Let's go!" This was King Godrics' first Royal Command. "My stomach's asking if my throat's been cut!"
