Nienna gently cradled the small bundle in her arms as she continued down the road, ignoring the world around her as it changed into the mist. Her crystal eyes filled with tears as she took in the boy's features. The soft, round cheeks of a child, light, olive-toned skin marred by the now scarred mark across his forehead. A tear fell from her eye and landed on the mark, seeping into the red blemished skin.
"I fear even your tears will not hold power strong enough to heal that curse, Sister."
Nienna did not lift her gaze and instead closed her eyes, allowing more tears to fall onto the boy's head. She watched as they too soaked into the blemish, soothing the mark briefly before the scar once again shone red.
"I am meant to be the Lady of Pity. I have found mercifulness in those that partook in even the vilest of acts," her voice carried deep mourning. "How am I to find pity in this act, Brother? How to I forgive a splitting and invasion of souls?" She raised her gaze from the babe to the calculating eyes of Námo.
"It is simple," he took a step forward, looking down at the child sleeping in his sister's arms. His stern eyes swept over the babe's face and rested on the cursed scar. His jaw clenched at the sight of the horrid mark, "you do not. For there is no forgiveness for what has been condemned upon this child."
More tears fell from Nienna's eyes at the words spoken by Námo.
"Come," the Lord of Judgement spoke, placing a guiding hand on to Nienna's back, "Estë awaits us. Perhaps Eru's blessing upon her will be enough to pull some of the darkness from the babe."
The two continued to walk through the mist and were met by Estë, Lady of Healing and Rest, as well as their brother Irmo, Lord of Dreams and Visions.
Upon their arrival, Estë held out her arms for the child. Nienna took one last look at the still sleeping babe before placing him in the other Vala's arms.
The Lady of Healing took a brief moment to observe the small form now cradled in her arms. A hand the color of glowing sand gently brushed back baby soft, raven tresses. A small smile formed on her face as her small bundle squirmed slightly from the gesture.
She gave a soft, almost sung command, "Nimeár- -o harna," and Harry's body began to glow sliver, all of him but the mark on his head which instead shined black. A deep frown formed on the Vala's beautiful face. Her eyebrows pinched together as she concentrated on the glowing black mark. She placed a gentle hand on the boy's head and again spoke firmly, her voice almost singing a second command, "Ni eless- sina harna ar túc- senda ana sina hinya. Ni poica sina mornië au."
As the Vala spoke, the others watched as the glowing black mark shined brighter under her control but did not yield. Estë continued, her voice grew to less of a song and more of a powerful chant as she fought against the power that resided inside the small boy in her arms. Yet, no matter how hard she pushed her own power into the cursed scar, the soul residing inside remained.
Estë 's voice eventually grew soft, and her chanting came to an end. She drew a shallowed breath and lowered her head to rest against that of the small sleeping form in her arms. A regretful tear fell from her eye. She did not startle when a firm hand rested against her back.
"I fear, my wife, that my vision was correct," Irmo's voice held a similar regret to that which filled her being. "The prophecy must be met to completion for the invading soul to be released from the boy."
Estë looked up to her husband before looking to his siblings at his side, Nienna too had tears falling from her eyes.
"Is there no way to save him from his fate?" The Lady of Mercy's voice was a pitying whisper. "Does this darkness hold evil more powerful even that of even Melkor?"
A hollowed silence fell over the four Valar. No sound was made as they each contemplated the destined fate of the small child among them.
"No, Sister, for I will not allow it to," Námo walked towards Estë, her gaze returned to the child. "Give him to me."
The soft-spoken, firm command caused the Healer's gaze to lift. Seeing the Judge of the Valar's arms raised to receive the boy, Estë gently placed the child in his awaiting hold.
Wasting no time, the powerful Vala ran a firm hand over the child's body and spoke an unwavering command, "Tye cen- lala tur símen. Tye indóme eteleht- sina fea."
Námo's voice was no longer a stern whisper. Instead, it had changed; now solemn and terrible. Power seeped around them, vibrating through the air. All watched as the small body of Harry Potter shimmered in a bright green glow. A silver and black mist was pulled from Harry's chest and into Námo's hand by the commanding chant. A faint wind picked up around them, pulling at their hair and clothing. In an instant, it all stopped and the body of Harry Potter ceased to glow and fell still.
Námo turned to his weeping sister at his side and placed the small body in her arms. He looked at the two souls that now dwelt in his hand, contemplating them, before he cupped and closed his hands together, before slowly pulling them apart. Irmo, Estë, and Nienna watched as the silver and black misted souls slowly tore away from each other before finally one settling in each of Námo's hands.
The Lord of Judgement looked into his left palm where a peaceful silver soul rested. He lifted it gently, observing it quietly before turning his eyes to his right. The swirling black mass was angry, trying to swim towards its previous host's body.
"Your journey ends here," Námo's voice continued to bellow with power, "Your vile misdeeds brought suffering to many and for which you will never find eternal rest in my halls. You will suffer the fates of those you condemned for eternity."
The black soul continued to struggle in his palm but Námo simply closed his fist, turning the writhing mist to dust.
Giving no more thought to the now vanquished piece of soul, the Judge moved to stand before his sister, the glowing, silver soul still peacefully rested in his left hand. Nienna's tears had ceased falling from her crystal-like eyes and as she lifted them to meet the steadfast eyes of her brother, they held with a watering glow.
"How?" Her whispered voice rang like tears of rain.
Both Irmo and Estë framed Nienna, sightly observing the other two, similar questions filling their gazes.
Noma did not respond immediately and instead lowered his focus to the silent, still body in the Weeper's arms. The small chest did not rise and his once lively skin had paled drastically. Námo lifted his empty hand and placed it on the child's small head.
"It was clear after Estë's healing failed to cleanse the invading soul, that it had cultivated to be beyond repair and mercy," His powerful voice grew softer but held its firm demeanor, "I have been given order by our King to act as I see just in matters regarding this vial darkness. As such, I indeed acted, I removed and separated the souls from the boy's body."
As Estë had before, Námo ran his large hand, which glowed like that of the moon, through the soft raven locks, a contemplative look fell over the Vala's stern face before he lifted his left hand, still full of the boy's soul, and lowered it to the small, motionless chest before him.
"Ni anne- tye mime aist-. Ni anne- tye mime anna tur ar esse -o Aráana -o Faire,"
All four Valar watched as the shimmering; silver soul seeped back into the small child's body. Light engulfed the small form blinding the four eternal beings of sight. Slowly the light dissipated and four crystal gazes observed the view before them. The once dull skin of the child glowed and returned to its original light, olive tone, and a small inhale was heard by all as the boy's chest rose again with breath. The body of Harry Potter had returned to life.
Nienna ran a hand over the child's face, almost as if to reassure herself that all was well with him again. The once burning red scar on the boy's forehead was now a light silver. A tender smile fell over her face as the child turned to nestle further into her embrace exposing a slightly upturned, pointed ear.
"You have shared a power with him, Brother," she voice had returned to a peaceful whisper.
The Valar present looked to the boy and then to the Vala mentioned. "You have given him the appearance of the Firstborn."
Estë and Irmo walked around Nienna to better look down at the slumbering babe. Estë ran a delicate hand over the now pointed ear.
"It does seem fitting as he will be among their company for the foreseeable time," she commented more to herself than to those around her, "and it would not be the first occurrence of one of his kind to take on their form."
Irmo looked again to the child resting in his sister's arms and contemplated what this turn of events could mean for not only the boy's future but their world and his original world as well.
"Do you think that wise, Námo, to claim the boy under your power?" the Vala questioned, "With the prophecy in place, an interference such as this might hold drastic consequences."
Námo looked to his brother, Irmo's gifts of Vision had foretold the prophecy between the young Harry Potter and the evil that became of Tom Riddle. It had been confirmed by the great Eru Iluvatar and had brought them to this moment.
"Worry not my brother," Námo replied, "While I have given Harry Potter my blessing, the prophecy foretold has already been acted into place by Lord Voldemort's actions against the child and his family. He has already declared young Harry as his equal. My interference in extinguishing this piece of his soul will not eliminate the rest he has split in his world. They will continue to keep him for imminent death.
"However, with my blessing, Harry now holds in his soul what Tom Riddle has failed to achieve even after severing his own. He has been handed the gift of time eternal. He will grow with our trusted kin and learn from our greatest of students. Perhaps with time, he will even grow beyond the mastery of those we trusted with defeating the great darkness of Sauron."
The four beings once again allowed silence to overtake them. Both Estë and Nienna looked down at the small form between them, reassured that the child was whole and healed from the dark, invading soul at last. Námo and Irmo stood to the side, each contemplating how this turn of events would affect the future of not only Harry Potter's home world but the future of their creation as well. The great Eru spoke of a savior of two worlds yet kept the events and choices leading to those moments to himself, leaving his trusted Valar to follow and act in faith.
"Come then," Irmo spoke, breaking the silence, "the fate of young Harry Potter now rests in the hands of others. Before long, the hour will grow early in Middle Earth." His gaze caught that of Nienna, "Sister, it is time."
The Lady of Mercy gently pulled the small child in her arms closer to her chest, swaying her arms gently as she lowered herself to the ground. She pulled his swaddled his blankets firmly around him and softly placed him on the misted surface. Before making to stand she ran her hand over his slumbering face one last time. A single shimmering tear fell from her eye and she whispered, "Ni anne- tye mime aist," as it fell onto his previously cursed scar.
The Valar watched as the glistening tear glowed on the lightly tanned skin before it soaked into the silver scar.
"You are loved Harry Potter, and I give you my sacred blessing," the Vala spoke once more before, pulling out the long-knotted piece of wood; placing it within the folds of the blankets, and rising to meet the others around her.
The four Valar each took one last look at the small child before they turned and made their way back through the mist.
0000000
The Lady of Light quickly made her way towards the edge of the wood. The sun had only just started to rise and its early rays caught the mallorn trees of Lothlorien causing golden streams of light to filter throughout her path.
She'd been given a vision sent by Manwe himself of a young babe that currently rested on the edge of the wood, left there waiting for her by the Valar themselves.
She quickened her feet, almost flying across the forest floor, golden tresses cast in the wind behind her. She swiftly curved along a bend in the path and stilled at the sight that lay before her.
Laying in an early morning ray was a babe, swaddled in cloth unfamiliar to the ancient elf. With steady steps she approached and knelt to better examine the child, only to be taken back by the watchful, bright green gaze that met her own.
A gentle smile fell over her face and she softly gathered the child into her arms before standing again. The boy did not make a sound as he was transferred into her care and simply took in the sights around him.
Galadriel ran a hand over his plump cheek and into his tussled, raven hair. She took note of the silver scar that laid across his forehead. The Vala had informed her of the child named Harry Potter and what was prophesized to lie in his future. What took her by surprise was the absence of the darkness that had been warned to her. All she sensed from the child was an overwhelming sense of peace and the promise of magical power.
She knew the great honor she had been given in having been trusted with the care of the one blessed by the Valar, the one foretold to bring peace to Middle Earth and beyond.
A laugh escaped her when a small hand made its way into her golden tresses, a gentle pull had her lowering her head to meet the small one in her arms.
"Suilad meld hén," she whispered.
The air around the two laid in a peaceful rest. All seemed to still as the Lady of Lothlorien and the young savior gazed into each other's eyes. Grey eyes met emerald and the two seemed to hold a silent conversation of building trust.
Before long, Galadriel's focus was pulled from the child in her arms as the sound of hooves was heard approaching. She waited, not making any changes to her demeanor, returned her gaze to meet that of the child, and simply waited as the rider made his way around the bend.
A swift dismount caused Galadriel's eyes to lift and she made no comment as she took in the windswept appearance of the Grey Wizard.
He wasted no time as he approached, peering down at the child in his companion's arms.
"So, it is true, then," his voice was coarse and contemplative, "a child of prophecy."
Grey eyes met blue and the two silently spoke of what information had been given between the two of them. After a moment, the two stood taller, a single nod was made by both.
"This is a great honor that has been bestowed upon us, Mithrandir," Galadriel's gaze once again returned to the child. His green eyes, which were sweeping over the golden leaves above him, only pulled back to the grey ones when a soft hand ran through his hair and over his ear. A tender smile once again fell over the Lady's face as the child looked back towards her. "They have given him the appearance of an elf."
Gandalf made a slight huff in reply, turning and making his way over to a fallen tree before sitting and pulling out his pipe.
"For his sake most likely," his voice was gruff, "Never have the elves been too trusting of outsiders. Especially your kin here in Lothlorien."
Galadriel smiled again at her friend's antics, though companionate and fond of all walks of life, Gandalf was not known for alleviating the weight of information, even to the Lady of Light.
"Fear not dear Gandalf, he will be well-loved and protected here amongst the elves of Lorien. It has been many an age since the birth of Arwen. The Eldar will rejoice for many months at the coming of an elfling."
"Is that how he is to be raised?" the wizard asked, "As an elfling?"
Galadriel looked back down to the babe. He'd wrapped her golden hair into one fist and was soothingly sucking on his other while doing his best to look around them. As if he knew they were talking about him, Harry met the stares of the two ageless beings before him.
The fifteen-month-old met the inquisitive stare of the other wizard. Green seeped into blue and Gandalf found himself smiling at the unexpected wisdom that seemed to be found in the child's eyes.
"At least as long as we can," Galadriel responded, "we know not yet how he will age, given his innate magic and gifts."
Gandalf hummed a replay, "His training must start early if he is to meet the fates bestowed upon him."
"We need not worry about his training at the present, my friend," Galadriel gently chastised, "we have many years before that will be necessary."
"You cannot shelter him from his, Galadriel," Gandalf once again stood, storing his pipe back into his staff, "We can both feel the power that rests inside of him."
"And when the time comes, he will learn to control it." She never raised her voice yet Gandalf knew that there was no debating the topic. "There is reason as to why the Valar have bestowed me with the honor of raising the child, for the young are deeply cherished by my people. Is it not safest to claim him as our child, hidden from those that might wish a young wizard harm?"
"They are also sheltered," Gandalf bluntly pointed out, "Harry will not be allowed the honor of being blind to his destiny for long."
"He will for long enough to know the joy of being a child. To know what it means to be protected and loved by those around him."
Gandalf looked as if he wished to comment further but Galadriel's voice again carried over them.
"Let us not be troubled by what lies in the future," she smiled at her friend and then turned the smile back to the one in her arms. Her smile grew as she received a bright one in response from the babe, "we have much to celebrate today. For there is a new life in the Golden Wood."
She turned and made to start her way up back up the path, "Come Mithrandir, let us spread the news of the coming of Calenion," As she continued up the path, she ran a finger over the now giggling child's cheek, "Named after eyes a color as unique and as special as the one they have been bestowed upon. A true blessing of the Valar."
Gandalf watched the interaction between woman and child, taking note of the bond that was already forming between the two. He knew that while the child was young now, the years would pass faster than they would seem, and before long he would be responsible for formulating the boy's magical training. Harry Potter was to be the savior of not only his home world but of Middle Earth as well and he must be ready to meet his fate. However, the more he contemplated this fact the more his teachings from the Lady of Mercy formulated in his mind.
He is just a boy, as if his teacher was speaking directly into his mind, Gandalf the Grey gave a sigh before walking to his horse, gathered the reigns, and made to follow the Elven woman as she gently sang to the bundle in her arms.
He stopped briefly and looked back to the spot Galadriel had previously been standing in as a thin piece of wood caught his eye. Kneeling down he picked up the knotted object. The wizard could feel the strong power pulsing beneath his palm. Looking back to the elven woman continuing up the path, he thought solemnly to himself, just a boy with the weight of two worlds on his shoulders.
Pocketing the wand, the Grey Wizard again gathered his horse's reins and made his way through the golden leaf trees of Lorien.
A/N HELLO! It's summer! That means I'm out of work until August so HOPEFULLY, that will mean more frequent updates for this story as well as my HP/Thor story God of Magic and Master Over Death. I do apologize for how long it took to get this part out! Seriously, I've been swamped with work but I now have much more time on my hands to do what I love.
Please, please, please let me know your thoughts! Good or bad your responses mean so much to me! Also, please remember I have no beta so if I missed anything in editing please let me know!
BTW…The reason Estë 's spell did not work was because she was trying to cleanse Voldemort's soul and heal it. As discussed in the HP series Voldemort's soul was beyond help by the time he made the Horcruxes. Námo understood this and instead of cleansing the soul he removed both souls and vanquished the piece of Voldemort placed inside Harry.
Translations: (I use a generator, so please be kind if I get anything wrong!)
Nimeár- -o harna (Tell me your hurt)
Ni eless- sina harna ar túc- senda ana sina hinya (I heal this hurt and bring peace to this child)
Ni poica sina mornië au (I wash this darkness away)
Tye cen- lala tur símen. Tye indóme eteleht- sina fea (you will release this soul. You behold no power here)
Ni anne- tye mime aist-. Ni anne- tye mime anna tur ar esse -o Aráana -o Faire (I give you my blessing. I give you a gifted power and name of Champion of Death)
Ni anne- tye mime aist-.(I give you my blessing)
Suilad meld hén (Hello, dear child)
