Babies, Potions and Battle Tactics
Gandalf only managed to stay for two weeks before the typical restlessness of a Wanderlust – an adjective that Hermione attached to him the moment she saw his adventurous smile – reacted once more. Gandalf really wasn't the sort to stay still for long, unless he had a reason to. So he left and he brought with him Legolas.
A day after he left, Cailyn's labor pains started, which made the second son of Guiomer an Autumn child.
It was a difficult labor and completely nothing like how the first one went. Her labor pains lasted for nine hours and she lost so much blood that three bottles of Blood Replenishers were used. By the end of it, Cailyn had to be put in a deep healing sleep and Guiomer almost forgot about the baby boy in his worry.
Heather reminded him, with a stern emphasis on not neglecting or blaming the child over something he could not possibly control or be responsible for.
Fortunately, Guiomer understood what she meant and took note of her words. The boy was named Ciaran, after Cailyn's brother.
"His second name?" Luna pressed. "That's important, Guiomer love. You've started it, you should continue it."
Guiomer took a shuddering breath and caressed Cailyns limp hand. "Gabriel. Gabriel Potter," he whispered.
Hermione nodded in approval. "That's a strong name, yet also a kind name," she said.
There was a moment of quiet contemplation of Cailyns sleeping form before Luna jerked up, looking rather startled, and rushed to the door. They all exchanged mystified looks.
"Do you – " Heather started to ask.
"No, I don't know where she went," Draco cut in.
Luna returned a moment later, carrying a thick, ornate book bound in gold and what looked like Dragon hide. It was obviously a book from the Black Library. And also, since Draco straightened up in his chair like one struck with a stinging Hex, he recognized it too.
There was a tense silence as Draco and Luna pored over the book, with only frantic whispers and the rustling of brittle pages being carefully flipped. Then the healer gave a triumphant ha! with a victorious finger pointed at a certain script to emphasize her point.
"That wouldn't work," Draco interrupted Luna's victorious little wiggle. "We've run out of Devil's Snare It just doesn't seem to grow in any of Arda's soil."
Hermione finally got impatient and summoned the book, reading the opened page. "No, we could substitute that ingredient with that tentaculous vine I found in the Northern Woods," she suggested. "What the potion requires is a plant that is near sentient but not quite. That vine could give Devil's Snare a run for its money."
Heather managed to refrain from snorting but she did have to cough. "I'll be the judge of that," came out.
Hermione, probably remembering first year and Heather nearly being choked to death, smirked. The initial experience had been terrifying as anything but the passing years had made the memory amusing instead.
"Pardon to interrupt," Guiomer cut in with a strained voice. "But can one of you lot tell me what that potion is for?"
The quiet debate being discussed about replacing Chimera feathers with Golden Eagle feathers native to Hafny's homeland was abruptly cut short.
"It's a healing potion," Luna explained. "Cailyn's body, from what I diagnosed, has a lot of damage in letting little Ciaran out. It's mostly the internal bleeding that's worrying since no healing potion I can currently make can heal that. If she was a wizard, her magic will automatically fix it, but since she's not... then this potion should do it."
Until then, Luna had kept a tight lid on Cailyn's state of health so it was a bit understandable that Guiomer blanched and wobbled, looking like he was going to faint. A deep breath had him steadying and his hold on Cailyn's hand tightened.
"What are the alternatives?" Guiomer asked after he had gotten a grip of himself. The ability to think above his emotions showed the evidence of his military training.
Luna, somehow knew he wasn't talking about potions. "If she heals naturally," she said. "There is a possibility that she will be too damaged to have another child. Ciaran will be her last. And she will be more susceptible to all kinds if illness. This isn't the sort of thing one recovers from, sweetheart. Normally, she should have died, but Lord Elrond taught me how to prevent that."
Guiomer nodded, his gratitude shining in his eyes. "Please, Aunt Eilys. Do everything you can."
In contrast to Aedan, who was very fussy, restless and a downright noisy baby, Ciaran was very very quiet.
While the Research Department was busy working on the Healing potion – and that occupied Hermione, Luna and Draco's time – Cailyn was still under an enforced Healing coma and that occupied Guiomer's mind to distraction. Being the dutiful grandmother, Heather volunteered to watch over Ciaran during the day.
And therein lay the dilemma of Ciaran's unnerving silence.
Heather had watched over Aedan in his infant days and Aedan was a demanding baby. It was completely impossible to forget him, even for a moment.
When he was happy, he had gurgled and cooed. When he was angry, he had bawled. When he was frustrated, his tiny baby face went red and it was adorable. Such a wide range of expressions for such a small child and it signified how advanced Aedan really was.
Ciaran, though very quiet, was no less advanced.
Ciaran slept a lot and though that could be discounted on his age, he also watched. While he hadn't inherited Guiomer's – and in conjunction – Heather's green eyes, Ciaran had inherited the fascinating light-reddish-brown eye color of Cailyn's mother. Those reddish-brown eyes watched with such intensity and it was a bit unnerving because, while Heather wasn't a healer, she knew such young babies had bleary and unfocused eyes. That Ciaran was aware enough to focus being only a week-old baby was…never mind.
But Heather loved Ciaran. He watched, played and entertained himself. He enchanted her wand to remind her not to leave the baby in the office and to feed him every two hours.
Heather lost count of the number of times she blessed magic and the fact that they had started shunting of their duties to the new government. She had forgotten how tiring it was to watch over a newborn.
And of course, there were still Aedan and Fenny's pleas and whines because the other busy adults were neglecting them. It was enough to drive the poor grandmother mad.
When the prototype potion was finished and deemed successful, Heather was one of the many who sighed in genuine relief that Cailyn was well and mended. Besides Guiomer becoming a moping lump and easily distracted, Cailyn's most faithful regulars at the Bakeshop felt her absence keenly.
The River that passed through Saldia was snow melt from the mountain ranges. Mostly, it was cold but a little bit of tinkering from R & D, magic and Ancient Runes gave everybody functioning hot water pipes. It was big and cleaner than the un-tinkered pipes.
Luna had stressed out cleanliness and personal hygiene several times as a key to a healthy lifestyle. That resulted in several hot springs showing up in the country rendering free service. What wasn't free, however, were the essential oils and soaps sold by whomever Heather set to watch over the establishment. It was cheap enough that everybody could afford it.
It was also the perfect place to get rid of any stress and tension that a week of very little sleep and intense concentration gave you.
Hermione and Luna sank in the water of the nearest hot spring and gave twin groans of ecstasy. By the quiet and more dignified sigh at the other end of the screen, Draco had just done the same thing. They had luckily chosen one of the quieter days of bathing or else there would be new gossip by the end of the day.
After all, it was still an ongoing debate on whether the hot springs were a private or a public area.
"That's the first time we've ever done that," Draco said, breaking the silence. He was obviously referring to the potion.
The few patrons soaking in were quiet but polite. They were obviously eavesdropping but Hermione didn't care. If she expended energy to care, she'd slither down the water in exhaustion and relaxation.
"There wasn't a call for it before," Luna replied, voice soft yet carrying. "So it did not motivate us to do so."
Hermione nearly snorted. "There probably was a call for it," she had to say when Luna turned those protuberant eyes at her. "But we were just not quite so personally involved as with that one."
Nobody answered that and Hermione took to studying her surroundings. She was just doing anything to keep her mind awake and to not fall asleep. The coaxing heat of the water was so relaxing.
"We should probably do something about that," Luna said, interrupting the sleepy lull that Hermione was starting to fall into. "We mustn't stagnate. Feather would get so annoyed."
"Standards and guidelines," Hermione added.
"But let it not be an excuse for mediocrity," Draco said. "We founded that Department, Granger. I won't stand for mediocrity."
By wordless agreement, they all got out of the water and got dressed. They all met up in the Bakeshop, hair still wet and wrapped by towels. It also gave Luna the excuse to check over Cailyn's health and not be seen as an overbearing mother-hen.
"We shouldn't do that next time," Hermione complained after warding their table. "I almost drowned. A week with no proper sleep and then a swim in the hot springs? A recipe for drowning, I tell you."
The twins grinned. "Don't worry, Hermione," Luna assured her, though there was a mischievous glint in her eyes that sent a thrill of dread through Hermione. "I would have caught you. I'm a healer, you know."
Draco, to finish that off, added, "And if Lovegood caught you too late and your lungs filled with water, there was an old, retired soldier in my side of the bath. He would have done you a favor."
Hermione spluttered and both of them laughed. It was times like these that made her wonder if Heather had been using her Gift when she pronounced Luna and Draco to be twins, or if calling them twins made them act as such.
Ugh, it was like that question about the chicken, the egg and which came first.
It was only two days before Cailyn went to Heather's office, carrying Ciaran while Aedan toddled after her, his hands buried in Fenny's fur.
"My lady?" Cailyn asked hesitantly. "You took care of Ciaran while I was asleep, right?"
Knowing where it was going, Heather nodded reluctantly.
"Was he – ah – quiet with you?" she pressed.
The word Cailyn probably wanted to say was unnatural but Heather quashed that traitorous thought. Cailyn wasn't as weak as Aunt Petunia that she burned with jealousy at what she couldn't have.
Heather managed a smile. "He was quiet. I had to remind myself that he was there, sometimes."
Cailyn still looked anxious. "Is that – Has that ever happened in your world?" she asked.
Despite the odd phrasing of it, Heather knew what she meant. This was the crux of the matter.
"There are reports of child prodigies," Heather hastily said, thanking Merlin for Discovery Channel and all other informative shows she sneaked a look at as a girl. "It sometimes happens but nobody really knows why."
Cailyn finally relaxed, her fingers unconsciously playing with Ciaran's hands. Heather took that as a good sign.
"But," she continued, still sounding confused. "How do I raise a prodigy?" Her tongue nearly tripped over the new word. "Ciaran is going to be smarter than Aedan was at his age."
Heather would have beamed at her if it wasn't so serious. This here was the reason why Guiomer had chosen Cailyn. She was really a brilliant woman and she had sense.
"You'll have to watch yourself around him," Heather said instead. "He's going to pick things up faster than usual and he's going to follow whatever you do. And I think he's going to get bored easily so I'll commission Enid to make a puzzle box for him."
Cailyn unwound further and finally managed a smile, however small. "You always know the answer to everything, my lady," she sighed.
A chair was transfigured into a cot and Cailyn gratefully set down Ciaran. Aedan looked annoyed for a moment and then he set himself up to climb the side of it. Cailyn looked worried but since Heather kept an eye on the child, didn't say anything.
"How has everything been?" Heather asked. "We didn't get a chance to talk before Guiomer snatched you."
Cailyn turned a little pink. "Everybody's been so happy!" she exclaimed. "Why, I earned twice as much this week than I do in a month! And Guiomer, that silly thing, has two of his soldiers following me."
Heather barked out her laughter. She used a teacup to hide her face but Cailyn turned an even darker shade of red.
"It's not funny," she said, though her tone wasn't seriously offended. If anything, she sounded pleased. "And if it isn't soldiers, he pays the children to do it."
It was sappy and adorable but it was also brilliant. In the first year of their marriage, if Guiomer had done this, Cailyn wouldn't speak to him for a week. Half a decade of marriage had tempered Cailyn's independent streak and Guiomer's protective instincts.
The sudden shiver of the wards had Heather going for the hilt of her sword. At the same time, Aedan stopped whispering to Fenny and went quiet, while Ciaran cried, prompting Cailyn to fuss over him.
If there ever was a doubt of the boy's magic, it vanished with that. He was sensitive enough to feel the wards.
But Heather had no time to think of that because the Bell tower started ringing.
It was one thing after another, Guiomer thought irritably. At least he managed one night of good rest.
"Sir," his captain reported, receiving the message from a boy. "There are about five company's worth of orcs and goblins headed this way. They also brought six mountain trolls with them."
Guiomer gritted his teeth and examined the map. "Has the code been sent out?" he asked while he marshaled his thoughts.
"It's a code Red sir," another captain said. "Lady Gryffon also sent her siblings to the tunnels with the rest of the civilians."
Code Red meant civilians were all evacuated. But with the absence of the others meant a lesser magical support. Because of course, nothing could be easy. Buggering figs. Well, the bridge was going to be crossed when you got there.
"My mother is awakening the statues," he said to his captains. "They will deal with the Mountain Trolls. I want two rows of archers on the wall. The rest will be stationed on the ground. We must protect the tunnels. Everything else can be repaired. I want two platoons in sector nine and another platoon in Sector fifteen."
Guiomer's mind was on a roll and he almost felt lightheaded as his Gift responded from time to time, prodding him on where to put the other company's. "The wall has a weak area, that's in Sector twelve. I want one company there. Belay that, a company and two extra platoons. Company seventeen, can you spare two?"
"Yes sir," the captain nodded as he went to his position.
A tentative voice interrupted his tirade and Guiomer glanced up sharply, appalled.
"Aedan!" he exclaimed. "Why on Arda are you still here?"
There was a mulish tilt to the boy's chin. "It's dark down," he said as though that explained everything. "And I want to help."
A distant part of Guiomer's brain wondered if this was the Potter stubbornness and heroism coming through. If it was, it came at a bad time. Mainly though, he knew that he couldn't dissuade his son. No Potter could have their minds changed once they'd settled onto something.
"Fine," he said through gritted teeth. "You will stay in the Bell Tower and help reload." He went closer and whispered in the boy's ear. "And you and I will have a talk when this is done, James."
The use of his real name seemed to have made him realize the gravity of the situation. Aedan straightened and nodded before scampering off.
"Where were we?" he muttered to the five remaining captains who had yet to receive their instructions. The men's faces were sympathetic. "Ah, yes. Company seven and eight shall stay by the wall to provide back up, also, assist the injured and protect the Healers. Company nine, can you spare a platoon?"
"Yes sir," came the reply.
Guiomer relaxed a bit. Sometimes, company's had bad luck and couldn't spare any because they fell behind the hundred fifty minimum requirement. Company thirteen, for example, had a history of bad luck that manifested in illness, bad recruitment and terrible officers. Company nine wasn't quite so bad but it still had its own stories. It was the bane of Guiomer's existence.
"That platoon will stay with Lady Gryffon," he said. "The rest will stay with me."
Everybody snapped into position just as Gryffon came, her usually smiling face grim and hand clenched tight around the hilt of Promise.
"Eilys just sent me word from the tunnels," she said as a greeting. "Everyone is well and accounted for but Aedan is missing."
Reminded of that, Guiomer scowled. "He's in the Bell Tower," he muttered. "He refused to hide." Seeing the look on his mothers face and interpreting it correctly, he continued. "Mater, he's a Potter and a Peverell. Did you honestly expect anything different?"
Really, with all of her adventures, she couldn't exactly say anything. "Did you really have to assign me a platoon?" she asked instead.
He didn't have time to answer because an orc horn sounded and in response, the Bell Tower started ringing again.
From his position in the Bell Tower, Aedan could see everything.
"Look around, young Lord," the archer he was assigned to had said. "Later, once those creatures get in range, we will be very busy."
So Aedan looked and was immediately reminded of the chessboard that Uncle Hodur always liked. He always said that the world was a game but this was the first time that Aedan understood that statement.
The wave of orcs and goblins broke against the solid defense of twenty company's like water on a rock. Any opening left was immediately covered by the archers from the wall. The Trolls that could have helped were downed by statues. It was chaos and it was war. The injured were dragged to the Healers tent and reinforcements arrived but the status still hadn't changed. They were winning but not quickly enough not to lose any man. By the time it would end, a lot of soldiers would be lost.
This moved faster when a single platoon broke the ranks and divided the enemy. Everything changed and the war started tipping more obviously in their favor.
"Great Manwe, beloved Valar, please protect our Lady," the archer breathed out behind Aedan.
Aedan wasn't slow. "That's my Avia!" he exclaimed. "But why?"
"We have more numbers than the enemy, so those who fell back can fill in for the missing platoon," the archer explained. "And it's whittling away at their defense. If you are ever divided from your company, young Lord, then you are vulnerable."
It went both ways, Aedan realized as his grandmother's platoon chased after the orcs that started to flee. Their men were lesser too but not quite.
"Serving a platoon under my lady is an honor," the archer said after seeing Aedan's confusion. "She gives you courage, confidence and the strength to never fall. Very few men have ever died serving under her – Holy Varda!"
Whipping around, Aedan saw what made the man so surprised. Another platoon, lesser than the required number, were somehow surrounding the orcs, preventing escape. From the looks of it, it wasn't expected because some soldiers stared.
"The outpost!" someone else remarked. "Those patrolling the merchants road must have been informed."
Aedans eyes were sharper than any and didn't need a telescope. "There's the Brotherhood too," he said, pointing to the Black Banner.
They would have spent the entire thing analyzing anything, but the watch spotted something.
"People, stop dawdling," he barked. "North-northwest, five goblins and five wargs. Headed straight to the tunnels."
The Tower exploded into action and Aedan ran to help the reloading.
In the end, they lost a hundred and twenty-two men. It was lesser than expected but they also had two company's worth of injured. The Healers and the Brewers were run ragged and Luna had to resort to calling some of her Order members home.
It was a loss and it was a victory. Either way, Luna mourned the absence of some souls and rejoiced in the presence of those still alive.
Some were angry and some were scared. Majorly though, they were grateful to Heather and Guiomer for protecting them. The ones most angry were Hermione and Draco. The attack had come at the wrong time and both of them were sleeping off a weeks accumulated exhaustion, unable to help.
So currently, both of them set about to the country's repairs with a vengeance.
It only took another week for the country to look less like rubble and more like a proper civilization. Most of the damage was to the cities outside the walls but a fair few cracks and burns showed inside as well. Still, a lot of people were displaced from their homes and Heather took it as a personal project to solve and it worried her, so much so that she went about with a permanent crease on her forehead.
Luna just sat back and collaborated with Cailyn and Kreacher to keep everyone fed. The heat of Summer had completely waned and all the leaves of the trees were turning colors. Autumn was well underway. With how disorganized everything was, there was a chance that by Winter, everyone would starve. The orcs had trampled through the farms and nobody was hunting anything to replenish the Cold Stores.
Sometimes, Luna wondered how people managed without her.
Heather's visions grew darker and darker. It gave her less sleep and she buried herself by making the Cleansing stones, summoning impure crystals from the Earth and imbuing the runes of cleansing she carved on it with magic. These, she kept sending to the Brotherhood and the Order, but still they kept giving it away to help villages. In a way, that helped to slowly remove the advancement of the evil that took over the hearts of men.
However, nothing helped with regards to her precognition and she stopped removing her dragon-hide gloves and her scarf's. The future she kept seeing became riddled with war and the lidless eye wreathed with fire became more frequent.
She had almost gotten ill but willpower and Potter stubbornness made her bear it, and, by the time Aedan turned six, and Faramir had been recalled by his arse of a Father back to Gondor (and he went with all their best wishes and creepily enough, a very serene smile) she had gotten desensitized enough not to vomit at the sight of the Eye.
When Aedan reached Eight years old and Ciaran was four, Heather had gotten used to sleeping through the nightmarish visions. It was either that or another bout of potions addiction. Neither option was nice but when life gave you lemons, well…
That was when Heather met Legolas again and this time, he was with several of his Brethren, a handful of the Dunedain, Aragorn and Gandalf the Grey.
The Welcome of a prodigal son
Boromir paced the hall as he waited for his brother to arrive.
He remembered, all those years ago, when he stormed out of the country to race to his brothers' side. He had not considered that the wardens were nicer than anybody could ever conceive and were amusing his brother with knowledge.
Now, with his brothers' return, he expected change to occur. He knew that Faramir thought him oblivious to how…different those siblings were but he noted it. He saw and did not say anything. He knew that whatever they would teach him, it would make his brother better and would probably infuriate his father to Kingdome come. Those siblings were special that way.
The whinny of a horse and the clip-clop! of hooves on the courtyard alerted him to his brothers arrival and Boromir rushed outside.
"I'm home," said the stranger, because there sat someone else in his brother's clothes and wearing his brothers sword. But a shift in the saddle and suddenly there was a change in his perception. This was his brother, except he had grown even more and settled into it. Previously, being with Faramir was like being in the presence of old Princes. But this Faramir had grown bulkier and with a king-like presence that just made him impossible to ignore.
"Welcome home," Boromir found himself saying and he realized that he meant it.
The familiar stranger smiled and he became even more recognizable. Time and distance had not changed his brother's smile.
Initially, I was annoyed and then I laughed when I realized I got readers almost, or probably more anal than I was. I received nearly ten reviews pointing out the discrepancy between the ages I posted and the previous chapter mentions of age and time. One review even quoted my own chapter!
Gosh, Never Underestimate reviewers and reviews.
On that note, I shall finish this story first and then revise it. So that's two promises now. One to finish and one to edit. No matter how long that will take, it will happen, coz my conscience will gnaw at me. So please bear with the mistakes I make. I'm a terrible author, I know. Note them and I shall make sure they vanish, unless of course, it was part of the story.
There is a timeskip. Arrgh! I tried and I did my best, but no matter what, it happened. It's like a disease. But to make up for it, I'll just tell you now, you can watch out for the LotR bits that will hit on next chapter.
Questions:
Spouses?
Gosh! Ugh. That question. A mushroom, really. It's a fungus that gets everywhere. Yes, they will get paired. Happy now? Ugh! But not all of them, so don't get too disappointed. Yes, they will be immortal. May or may not be elves. (- This here is a hint. Right there! A hint for the ending! Darn it, stop asking for spoilers! PM me if you want, don't spoil it for other people!)
A clarification on the Purification Pillars:
That draws on the ambient negative energy. If it is far away from you, as in not touching your skin, it'll just leech off whatever darkness you're excreting. (Yuck, sounds like an adjective for sweat.) But the Cleansing room is small, cramped and is packed with cleansing stones. So you'll have to touch one or several. Either way, you get cleaner than with the pillars. Some people pass here after a long journey, but its not a requirement.
Where are the other species?
No, Arda is not Earth with Elves. You must remember, the halflings/hobbits are shy creatures (the quartet and Bilbo Baggins are abnormalities in their species.) and dwarves are creatures that are more content with digging through their mountains. In the time of THE HOBBIT, dwarves were more visible because a lot of the dwarves of Erebor wandered. After THE HOBBIT, the lonely mountain was reclaimed so all errant dwarves went back to digging. You don't see them often. Period. I was hoping to add in an Olympics thing to involve them but it didn't fit with what I was writing. So, sorry.
Other Possible Questions:
Where are the tunnels?
There is one in every sector and every body has a key. Of course, it has its own wards to protect the people inside it and to prevent people from playing pranks or using it for darker purposes. Mainly though, one entry is always open and that is at the base of the Bell Tower. That was where the defense was strongest and the enemy assumed there was only one entrance.
What is wrong with Ciaran?
Hmm, I remember somebody asking me about latent magicals? Okay, I will use eye color to denote magicality. Unusual eyecolors are to be noted. Just remember, Cailyn is special too.
Aand that's it. I will update once a month. I'm a graduating student! Time is so hard to get these days.
Please R & R.
~Hallen