The Stranger in Middle Earth

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

AN: We come to journeys end. Here is the last chapter of this story. Please read the AN at the end as I have announcements their regarding this stories future and thank you messages to my reviewers.

Chapter Twenty One

Final Departure

HERE RESTS BARTHOLOMEW HARRIS
KNIGHT OF ENGLAND AND WARRIOR OF EREBOR
BELOVED FATHER AND GRANDFATHER
MEMBER OF THE COMPANY OF THORIN OAKENSHIELD WHO AIDED IN THE LIBERATION OF THE KINGDOM OF EREBOR FROM THE DRAGON SMAUG THE TERRIBLE
MASTER OF THE ROYAL ARMOURY OF EREBOR
BORN JUNE 21ST 1385AD
DIED SEPTEMBER 30TH TA 3019
NINETY FIVE YEARS OLD

That is the inscription over my grandfather's grave. Simple and honest. The absolute truth. The grave stone itself is a marble block with the above inscription carved into it. Standing on the block is a life size statue of my grandfather. He is wearing his armour, apart from his helmet, and a cloak is hanging from his shoulders. A sword is clutched in his hands, the blade of the sword is mithril, and the statue holds it above the shoulder, as if ready to strike down an enemy. In his face was a look of determination and intelligence.

That was what I saw when I looked at the newly filled in grave. The funeral, a week after my grandfathers death, had been attended by hundreds, including the King of Dale and many of his nobles, but most of those in attendance were people of Erebor, watching one of their heroes being taken to his final resting place. He was buried in his armour, apart from his helmet, clutching his sword, and laid out in a gilded coffin with a glass lid. I was still dressed in my armour and black cloak I wore for the funeral. I and my cousins, dressed like me, stood back from the grave where my uncle was kneeling. He looked into the face of his father's statue and spoke quietly to him.

'It's sad,' Rickard quietly said to me as the wind blew our cloaks back behind us.

'You're right brother,' said Markus. 'So many years apart and they only had three months.'

'How can God be so cruel?' Rickard distantly asked himself.

'It's not God,' I said to him. 'It's life. Perhaps He has a plan for some of us but in the end life catches all of us.'

'You make time sound like an enemy,' Rickard told us.

'It's a force of nature,' I told him.

'I was speaking with Gloin earlier,' Markus told us. 'He thinks the only reason Grandfather lasted as long as he did was to see someone he knew again.'

'Perhaps,' I agreed as a few small specks of rain started pattering down on us.

'It looks like a thunder storm is coming,' Markus commented as he looked at the sky.

'We better get indoors,' I said to them. 'Will you ask him to come inside?'

My cousins looked at each other and silently agreed that Markus should get him. While my older cousin walked towards his father the cousin who was the same age as me turned towards me.

'John, can I ask you something?'

'Yes,' I answered but I kept looking at my uncle as Markus touched him on the shoulder.

'Why do you often step back at family events? Today you stood a little behind my father and brother. I was just wondering.'

'You answered your own question,' I told him as the rain started to get a little heavier. 'Like you said, he's your father and your brother. I'm your cousin and his nephew.'

'You feel separate?' he asked, a little surprised at what I said.

'Only a small amount. I know it sounds stupid but I don't remember much of my father. I remember him training me with weapons and making sure I could read and write. But then he left for war with your father and the other knights. Only one of our fathers came back.'

'And you think that since you have no father you shouldn't stand with us perfectly?'

'Sometimes.'

'John, the only one who should think that is a bastard son. You're not. I never thought of you as a cousin. I thought of you as a brother.'

I smiled at what he said, ignoring the now heavy rain.

'Thank you Rickard,' I said to him as Markus lead his father towards us.

'Let's go in,' my uncle said solemnly.

We all walked back into Erebor, now soaked to the skin, and went back to our rooms to change. I'd been given an apartment with a living room and a bedroom which doubled as a washroom. I quickly changed into a tunic, trousers and a dry pair of boots and then walked to my uncles apartments, which used to belong to his father and, under the laws of Erebor, now belonged to my uncle. My family and I had a simple meal that night.

'King Thorin said we can stay as long as we wish,' Markus reminded us. 'Father, it's been just a week since he died. If you want more time to mourn...'

'No,' my uncle silenced him. 'I'll do something I've never done before.'

'What's that?' I asked him.

'Follow my wife's advice,' he deadpanned. 'We have to move on with all the burdens we suffer no matter what they are. The best we can do is enjoy what life we have left.'

'Do you miss her?' asked Rickard. 'Mother?' he clarified.

'Of course. She's with God now, like Daniel and like my father. She'll be glad to properly meet the man that helped arrange her marriage to me.'

'Did you make any arrangements for us?' I asked him.

'Yes,' he told us. 'Markus, do you remember Helen Barker?'

'I was arranged to her?' he asked with surprise.

'Yes. I was making a few arrangements for you two, John, Rickaard, but nothing was decided. The Barkers must think we're dead Markus so they'll make new arrangements.'

'Can we move back to what we do next?' I asked them.

'Of course,' my uncle agreed and chewed a piece of ham on his plate. When he swallowed he told us what he thought. Tomorrow we have to meet with my father's lawyer so his Will can be dealt with. We'll start on our way back to Minas Tirith as soon as we can after that.'

'Are you sure father?' asked Markus.

'I'm sure son. I know what I'm doing. There's the Order to deal with and the land I was given. There's a lot of work to do.'

'Then we should rest while we can,' said Rickard.

...

The following midday we met with my uncle's lawyer. He was an older Dwarf with a long gray beard and thick hair of head. We met in the apartments my uncle now owned with the lawyer, named Komrin. There was also all the surviving members of Thorin Oakenshields company as well as three men from Dale and a Dwarf I hadn't seen before.

'Welcome,' Komrin said to us and picked up a scroll of parchment. 'I have here the final Will and Testament of Bartholomew Justin Harris written just over a week before his death. Gathered here are all of the beneficiaries named in his Will.'

He then opened the scroll and began to read it out.

'I, Bartholomew Harris, in sound mind and body, hereby leave this belongings to my closest friends. To Nathaniel Billings, Alistair Sengret and Lucas Dookan, I leave two hundred gold pieces each. I give this to them for years of friendship and loyalty. Also to Nathaniel Billings, I leave a bottle of my best wine to remind him of how we met and why he should always mind his drink.'

One of the men, who was extremely old but younger than my grandfather was when he died, laughed at some memory from long ago.

'I leave my books, scrolls and writings on history and ancient lore to the Erebor Hall of Records so that they may be preserved for all time and so future generations may study and learn from my research.'

The Dwarf I didn't know looked around us at all the books and scrolls and realised that he had a lot of work to do.

'To all of those who are still alive and I journeyed with on the Quest for Erebor I leave two hundred and fifty gold pieces to each of them. My remaining property, such as my furniture, rooms, money and collection of trinkets, as well as my memorandum on the Quest for Erebor, are to be given to my only surviving son, James Harris. James, I trust these with you alone and I know that you will do what is right with them.'

'That is the Will,' Komrin finished as he put down the scroll and looked at each of us.

'Thank you,' my uncle said to the lawyer. 'I will be returning to Gondor in the next few days and I cannot take all of it with me. I would like to keep the furniture here if I should ever want to return. We'll deal with transporting my money another time.'

...

We learned soon after that how wealthy my grandfather was. In his bedroom, behind a tapestry of the Battle of the Five Armies was a stone vault where he kept his money. It was stacked high with gold and silver coins as well as a few precious stones. All gathered from years of hard work in Erebor. After the money in the Will had been given to the others my uncle realized that he couldn't take the rest with him, there was too much. Instead, he decided to take only one small chest with him and send for the rest at a later time. We'd need at least one large cart to transport it all but my uncle trusted his father's friends to mind it for a while.

...

We left Erebor four days after the Will had been read out. A small group had seen us off. The four of us, on our horses, rode out of Erebor with enough supplies to last us a while. I enjoyed my time in Erebor but I looked forward to returning to Minas Tirith and the rest of the company. I was also looking forward to getting letters from Sunniva again. I hadn't told anyone but I brought the letters with me and I looked through them now and again in private.

When we reached the road that would take us home, with Dale and Erebor not far away behind us, we stopped. My uncle turned to look back at the place his father had called home for decades.

'Do you think he ever expected to see me?' he asked us.

'I think he held on to hope to the end,' I told him.

'I hope you're right,' he said and smiled a little.

I looked at his saddle and saw the chest strapped to it. In that was enough money to buy us supplies when we came across towns and still plenty left after that.

'Robert will be glad to see us,' said Markus. 'We'll return to Minas Tirith as great men.'

'We already were,' said Rickard. 'Or I was anyway.'

'Come,' said my uncle as he turned his horse south away from Erebor. 'This is a new world for us. I think it's about time we started to truly live in it. Let's go.'

With that we started our long journey back to Minas Tirith. Ahead of us was the future and many tales and battles. That was all in the future but I knew at that moment that I was no longer a stranger in Middle Earth.

Here is a good place to end my tale. Many of you wonder what of all the parts that are not yet complete. Those are for another day and they shall be recorded as well if you wish to hear them.

The End

(Play Into the West)

AN: Well that's the end of that. I hope you enjoyed and I have a few announcements to make here.

Firstly, the future of this series. I am setting up a pole on my page where you can vote on the two possible ideas for a sequel. The first option is a direct sequel taking place after the Harris family arrive back in Gondor. The second is a prequel following the adventure of Bartholomew Harris. I will write both but whichever one wins the vote is the one I will give the most attention too.

Now, I wish to thank everyone who has read, followed and favourite this story. I am truly honoured that you have chosen to read this story and I hope you have enjoyed it.

Also, and I know I sound like a stuck record here, if anyone can send me a cover image for this story that would be very appreciated.

Please leave a final review if you wish and remember to check out the poll for the future of this series.

In particular I wish to thank:

KiyaNamiel, my number one reviewer, I thank you for showing so much support for this story for the past five months. Thank you for your helpful and supportive reviews.

ATP for reminding me how important Slice of Life Chapters are and for many good reviews.

Halloween Servant for having a cool name.

Star-of-Radiance for some very good reviews.

Amateur Bacon Cook, for leaving a good review which is both helpful and supportive.