Disclaimer: Nothing is owned by me – end of story.
Author's Notes: Thanks so much, guys for your freaking awesome reviews! I really appreciate the interest you are showing this story even if it's pretty basic so far. As you can imagine, these chapters are pretty much fillers since Harry just got to Middle-Earth. This story is also set 17 years (if I remember correctly) prior to the time when the Fellowship of the Ring was formed.
Even so, the War of the Ring and the quest to destroy the One Ring will take place, albeit slightly earlier than intended. There will still be a war because things will be different and while the Fellowship might not be formed all the characters of the LOTR's will play their part some way or another. Now that that's out of the way, I present you the next chapter of my story!
Chapter 3: Caught in the Crossfire
Previously on Champions of Middle-Earth...
... "Aragorn!" An older man called out. "Aragorn, what have you found?"
"Orcs!" The stranger, who Harry assumed was this Aragorn, replied looking to his right. "And Gollum."
"And who cast that magic, pray tell," Said the old man. "I never thought you to be a wizard."
Oh, great! Harry sighed as he saw who was coming. Not another Dumledore!
~ Now in Chapter Six ~
Harry's heart sank as he saw what looked like a grander and older version of Albus Dumledore, if that was at all possible. He was a man of medium height and neither strong nor thin. He wore a simply brown robe with wide sleeves and pointed shoes.
A broad-rimmed, pointed hat sat on his head and he boasted a long grey, near silver beard, although it was free-flowing unlike Dumledore's.
His hair fell to his shoulders and two intense grey eyes peered out at him from underneath bushy grey eyebrows.
The old man leaned on a gnarled oaken staff with a peculiar-looking curl at the end of it. But no matter how pathetic his walking stick looked, Harry sensed strong magic residing in it and knew immediately that this old man was a very powerful wizard. What's more, he seemed to be a companion and friend of the warrior and that was saying something, for the warrior had just saved his life.
Why does it always have to be old manipulating men? Harry thought, clenching his fists in exasperation.
"You!" The old man said suddenly, his voice grim and surprised. "You are not supposed to be here!"
"What do you mean?" Harry stammered, completely caught off-guard.
"You do not belong in this world," The old wizard said. "It is against the laws of nature for that to happen."
"Oh yeah?" Harry asked, frustrated. "Well then how so because my friend is here too!"
The old man huffed and glanced worriedly at the warrior.
"Is it true then?" The warrior called Aragorn asked. "Are you really from another world?"
Harry heaved a sigh. Why couldn't he just get a dammed break already? Must his fame always plague him!
"Yeah," He muttered dryly. "You could say that. What is this place anyways and who lives here?"
"This place is known as Middle-Earth for lack of a better term," The old man explained. "It is populated by elves, men, dwarves, wizards, hobbits, ents, goblins, orcs, and worse foes."
"Some fairy tale!" Harry quipped sarcastically.
If he had not seen those orcs or had been any younger, he would have said something nasty to the old man. But he had seen the wormhole and there was something about the air that felt more alive and fresh than back home in England. Everything here looked more vibrant and lush than in the Wizarding World even, so much so that he had to believe him. Then there were those disgusting creatures.
"What about them?" Harry asked, pointing to the fallen orcs. "What are those?"
"Orcs," Aragorn replied, his voice tainted by disgust. "They are sickening creatures bred by darkness for the sole purpose of killing and destroying. They hate the light and all things that walk, live, and breathe under it. It is very rare for them to come in a pack like this during broad daylight so we can only assume they are under the command of some higher powers that forced them to do so."
"Higher powers," Harry said warily, recalling the orcs' conversation. "One of them said something about some Lord Sauron, their chief I think. I got the opinion that they weren't too satisfied under his command though."
Harry's heart sank even further when he saw a look of dread pass between Aragorn and the old man. He hated it when people shared 'that look' without telling him what it was about.
"Sauron," The old man said grimly. "Is a wizard fallen from grace. I would tell you more but we do not know who you are or why you are here. You could be a spy but then why would you kill those orcs?"
"Um, to gain your confidence and respect?" Harry offered uncertainly.
"Indeed," Aragorn said, nodding his head appraisingly. "That is why we can only determine your guilt if we take you to a true seer."
"Prophecy?" Harry asked warily.
He hated the stuff. It had manipulated the better part of his life forcing him to get locked in a cupboard under the stairs and live with abusive relatives. He actually died because of prophecy.
"Not quite," The old man smiled, with an all-too familiar twinkle in his eyes as if reading Harry's thoughts. "We must visit a certain Elf lady named Galadriel. She, if anyone, will be able to see if you are under Sauron's command."
"And why would you want to find that out?" Harry asked sceptically. "You just met me and for all you know I could have been a con man or something."
"True," The old man said. "But liars and thieves don't just get such tremendous power like you wielded not long ago. They would not use it against orcs but for their own purposes. There are dark times ahead and we need all the help we can get. With power like that..."
"Listen," Harry said, clenching his fists to keep from shouting. "You might not believe me but I just came out of another war against a Dark Lord from my home world. I don't want to get involved in a new battle in a world I know nothing about. I just want to get home."
"Again, the elf I have in mind would be the only person capable of that," The old man replied, unfazed. "It would be wise to accompany us if you wish to return to your world let alone survive in this new place. I may not believe you but your magic – and I can sense it within you – speaks enough for yourself."
Harry hesitated a moment as a myriad of thoughts flashed throughout his mind, each struggling for supremacy. Finally, he gave up knowing the old man spoke the truth.
"Fine," He relented, letting his shoulders sag. "But first I need help. My friend is sleeping or unconscious. I can't wake her up and she is the brightest woman on my home world. She, if anyone, could make sense of this situation."
"Very well," The old man agreed. "But I feel it would be easier to introduce ourselves before moving on."
"Agreed," Harry said, nodding in approval.
"I am known as Gandalf the Grey," The old man smiled. "And this is my companion and friend Aragorn, although we usually call him Strider."
Harry nodded in acknowledgement. "A pleasure to meet you, Gandalf, Strider. My name is Harry James Potter."
"Nice to meet you, Potter," Aragorn said, shaking Harry's outstretched hand.
Harry was so relieved that no one gasped at his name so he couldn't help but crack a grin.
"Please," He said. "For now, it's just Harry."
Aragorn nodded and Harry led the two companions to where he had hidden Hermione from the orcs. He felt a pang of guilt and sorrow at seeing her lying there, helpless and alone and quickly gathered her into his arms while the other two men kneeled down.
Gandalf pushed back some of his hair from his face and leaned on his staff. The old wizard closed his eyes and muttered some words under his breath while placing a hand over her forehead. After a short while, he gave a shuddering sigh and opened his eyes. He removed his hand and looked grimly at Harry.
"I am sorry," He said. "There is only one force on this earth powerful enough to inflict such an injury and yet this is more powerful than that."
"What?" Harry panicked, his eyes widening in alarm.
"Aye," Gandalf said, and Harry could see genuine sorrow in his eyes. "A creature roams the earth called the Nazgul commonly known as the Black Riders or Ring Wraiths. Fell beasts, the Nazgul wear dark armour and ride black steeds. They were once great kings of men but each were given a Ring of Power.
"Unbeknownst to them, another Ring was forged by the same wizard who forged the nine rings for the nine kings. In this ring, he poured all his malice and cruelty for he was pure evil and only wished to use the nine kings as slaves. This became the One Ring and transformed the nine kings of men into the Nazgul. They are now wraiths of shadow only visible due to their armour.
"They can inflict powerful wounds that can only be cured by a rare few. One of those healers, I know and is an old friend of mine. His name is Elrond and he is an Elf Lord who resides in Rivendell. The Lady Galadriel's domain is on the way to his kingdom. I am sorry, Harry but that is the only place where your friend can be cured."
Great! Harry sighed. Just great!
To Be Continued...
A/N: Yay, another filler chapter is out of the way! We can move onto the action soon. I just thought to make things a little tough for them since it's always so easy. It won't be too difficult though otherwise that would be just depressing. Anyhow, there is chapter three for you and more is on the way.
Once again, I greatly value your feedback and really look forward to your reviews. I haven't read the LOTR's books in a while so do forgive me if the characters are OOC. Have they revealed too much? Has Harry agreed to go with them too quickly? Any advice, suggestions, and insight would be greatly appreciated.
Many thanks in advance!
~ Elf Knight ~