Disclaimer: I own the plot, though I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.
AN:
1. I'd like to dedicate this chapter to my newborn niece, Teal Catherine. Who was born yesterday! (I'm an aunt now! ... Wow... I'm an aunt now...that's a strange thought...)
2. Until the groups meet up, the time that passes for each still isn't synchronized…
That'd just make everything difficult for me and confusing for you (and me), so please keep that in mind…
3. Thanks for reading, I hope you like it.
4. I'd like to thank Shadowsong for beta-ing once again. Thank you!
5. I think I'll just get this out of the way to begin with: All of the dialogue in italics is Elvish.
6. Enjoy!
There and Back Again
Chapter 12: Entulesse a Arda
By Jess S
Aragorn could hear the rather despondent song the Elven choirs were currently practicing in the distance, they're gorgeous voices raised in a harmony that most mortals could not even dream of achieving. But he was not here to appreciate the beauty of their voices, nor the sadness of their songs. No, he was here now, in the secluded garden that Lord Elrond had created especially for his wife, the fair Celebrían, a long time before, to bid his mother farewell.
Although Gilraen of Gondor had chosen to die far from the Elven realm, its Lord had been inclined to honor her with this grave, a delicately carved statuette of the fair lady. Many years had passed since its creation, and it showed in the foliage that he now pulled away from it, in order to look upon the carved facsimile of his much-loved mother in her youth.
"She wanted to protect her child…" The heir of Isilduir did not turn in the direction of the voice, nor did he even appear to consciously acknowledge the Elf Lord's presence, but Lord Elrond continued nonetheless. "She thought in Imladris, you would be safe."
Aragorn reached up to caress the cool, stone visage that he could remember only distantly as it had appeared upon the lady in life.
"In her heart your mother knew that you would be hunted all your life, that you'd never escape your fate." Elrond told him. "The skill of the Elves can re-forge the sword of kings…but only you have the power to wield it."
"I do not want that power," King Arathorn's only son reminded his foster-father. "I have never wanted it."
Elrond shook his head sadly, still watching the much younger being. "You are the last of that bloodline, there is no other…"
"This day is a strange one…"
The Lady of Light looked up as her husband stepped onto the terrace. "Uma, it is," she agreed, obvious lost in thought.
"You Saw the Fellowship set off already?"
"Uma…"
"That is good," the Elf Lord nodded, then sighed. "Though it would've been better if they'd left earlier…" Seeing his wife's inattention to the topic she'd been focused on for a number of days, Celeborn sighed, before making a quiet, gentle inquiry. "What is it, melda nin? What do you sense?"
"A change…"
"A change?" Here, the Lord of the Galadhrim frowned. "Could it be the disturbance that the eastern border patrol reported, and is presently returning to investigate with the other Guardians?"
"Uma… that is part of it… What I sense…change…" she murmured, then grimaced. "And pain…terrible pain…and death…"
"Death?"
Galadriel nodded, "Uma…I--" she stopped abruptly, her pale blue eyes widening. Before her husband could ask anything of this sudden transformation, she'd already made it down the stairs to the ground below.
"Melda nin?" Celeborn called after her, worried, before he too followed. It didn't take long to realize where she was going… The Grove was practically humming with the waves of power the Mirror was discharging.
The Lady herself did not go to the Mirror however, instead choosing to remain at the top of the steps just outside of it, to watch as the light the Mirror was emitting rapidly augmented, reaching its pinnacle with a single burst of light, before diminishing. It left four shining beings in its wake; that glow quickly lessened to the radiance that was normal for most Elves, though two were not quite as alight as the other. The two that were of the more common lighting, were in fact Elves that both the Lord and Lady of the Galadhrim recognized.
"Camthalion! Rúmil!" Galadriel gasped, hurrying down the steps to the sides of the two unconscious Galadhrim.
Celeborn, after calling for the healers to hurry down, quickly followed, reaching them at almost the same time his wife did. "How did this happen?" he paused when his eyes landed on the slightly shadowed Elves, whom he did not recognize. "Who are they?"
"I do not know…" the Lady of the Golden Wood replied, not looking up from examining the twins until she was satisfied with the fact that they apparently hadn't sustained any injury. Only then did she spare the other two a glance. "They are not of our land…nor any other I know of…"
"They are not Avari?"
Galadriel paused a moment, her eyes searching, and her husband knew that she was examining them with the Ring of Adamant. After several moments, she shook her heads, "They are similar…but not Avari of our world…"
"Not of our…" Celeborn blinked, then frowned. "Of…Eleross's world then?"
Nenya's Keeper nodded, "Quite possibly…"
Both looked up when some of the Galadhrim's finally entered the Grove and rose.
The Lady nodded to the four unconscious Elves. "They are under our protection. Care for them."
"Of course, heri nin." The oldest amongst them bowed deeply, before directing the younger healers to lift the four onto the stretcher's they'd brought with them, pausing slightly when he took a closer look at the twins. "Nai Vala…"
"Wh-What the bloody hell just happened?!" Ron Weasley demanded, moments after the chaos died down, only to receive a glare from his mother, who was on the ground a few feet away.
"Watch your tongue, Ronald Weasley!" the witch reprimanded him, even as she herself stared around them in awe.
Everyone else: a few members of the Order of the Phoenix and the D.A., was reacting in similar fashion. It wasn't hard to see why; the forest they'd landed in was unlike any other they'd ever seen!
It was forest with golden trees that had to be centuries old, if their size offered an accurate estimation. The leaves and blossoms all around them suggested that land never saw winter, but was instead arrested in an eternal spring, though the slightly chilled air and cool breeze did not support that claim.
"Where are we?" Hermione broke the potent silence, approbation ringing clearly in her quiet inquiry.
"You don't think…"
All of their heads snapped around to watch Draco, who was presently watching the forest from his position on the floor.
"Malfoy…?" Hermione inquired uncertainly.
After a moment he turned slightly to look at them, "I don't know, this looks an awful lot like the place Harry described, don't you think?"
"Lothlórien…" Hermione nodded, looking around. "Yes, it does…wait a minute… Where is Harry?" she demanded, hurriedly pushing herself to her feet, the others following her example.
"He's over here!" Everyone turned upon hearing Severus's call, to see that he's already moved over to the unconscious wizard's side, and was presently looking him over. "He's alright, isn't he?" he asked, as Madam Pomfrey hurried over.
The Healer didn't reply for several moments, instead choosing to mutter spells under her breath as she waved her wand back and forth over his body. After a moment she nodded, putting her wand away carefully. "He appears to be fine physically, just exhausted…but he's hurting mentally."
"Why?" Sirius demanded, "Did Voldemort attack him with Legilimency?" But he didn't wait for the healers reply as he saw the sad; comprehending looks on all of the younger witches and wizards' faces. Even Malfoy looked pained. "What is it? What's wrong?"
"Violet…" Hermione murmured, her voice pained as tears filled her eyes. She shook her head as a few overflowed, "Violet…"
"What?" Sirius blinked, glancing around at the others to see if they knew what the usually cool and logical young witch was talking about. What did violets have to do with anything?
"Is that the young woman who took the Avada Kedavra that Voldemort intended for Harry?" Dumbledore inquired kindly, his gaze serious.
The students nodded silently, several breaking down into sobs.
"Who was she?"
The members of the DA were silent for several moments, looking at each other, unsure of what to do. The only Slytherin student amongst them made the choice for them.
"His wife."
Several moments of shocked silence followed this comment. Then a distant birdcall almost seemed to return the gift of speech to them.
Mrs. Weasley's; "I beg your pardon?" was probably the most decent reply to the blonde's statement, not that you'd really be able to tell, with all the shouting that ensued… but it looked like she'd said that…
After several moments of shouting, the adults seemed to lose the ability to speak once again, even as their mouth kept moving. Once they realized that nothing they attempted to say was being heard, their mouths snapped shut as they looked around for the culprit. And they found it in the (second) eldest of their lot.
"That will be quite enough, I think." The Hogwarts Headmaster explained sternly, meeting each of their gazed before ending the silencing charm with a simple, "finite incantatum." He then returned his full attention to his students, most of whom were still sobbing, those who weren't were quite clearly fighting the urge to. "You were saying?"
Draco replied when it appeared the others still couldn't speak. "She was his wife…from this world, we think. Potter was transported here; by a wish he made on a wishing cake, we think, on his birthday over the summer. Three people, elves, returned with him after he'd been here for a long time--"
"Two-thousand-one-hundred-and-forty-four years," Hermione supplied, and Draco nodded.
"Right… one of them was Ránëwén Galathil Tinehtelë, or, in our language, Violet G. Potter. Harry Potter's wife." The blonde frowned. "We never asked how long they were married, but I got the impression it'd been awhile."
"He was here for over two thousand years?" Remus murmured as the other adults looked on in shocked silence.
"Yes."
"That would make him -- what…"
"Two-thousand-one-hundred-and-fifty-nine years old," Hermione replied, wiping at her eyes to stop the seemingly endless flow of tears, her voice pained. "He wasn't a natural part of this world, so he was essentially immortal here."
"And he lived with Elves?"
"Yes…"
"Real ones?"
"Yes."
"And he married an Elf?"
"Yes…"
"A real one? One of the Eldar?"
"Yes."
"And now she…" Remus stopped, his eyes widening. "Is dead…"
"Yes…" Hermione nodded again, once again loosing her battle against her grief, as she broke down into sobs.
"The Ring-bearer is setting out for the Quest of Mount Doom." Lord Elrond looked over the group that had gathered before him as he continued. "On you who travel with him, neither oath nor bond is laid to go further than you will." If he noticed the look his foster-son exchanged with his distraught daughter, he didn't show it. "Farewell. May the blessing of the Elves, Men, and all Free Folk go with you."
Both Legolas and Aragorn placed their right hands over their hearts and bowed their heads, before turning as Gandalf spoke.
"The Fellowship awaits the Ring-bearer."
Frodo -- after taking one last glance at the Elven realm, his eyes poignant -- turned and made his way to the gate, Gandalf stepping in behind him as he passed. As he neared it, he grew troubled. "Which way to Mordor, Gandalf? Is it left or right?" he asked, eyeing the path nervously.
"Left," the wizard replied, placing a reassuring hand on the younger being's shoulder as they led the way out of the Haven.
The last to leave was Aragorn, who stopped for a short moment, to meet the glistening eyes of the realm's princess, memorizing her every feature; engraving the way she looked in the soft-violet robes, her dark hair held back by silvery strands of pearls, into his memory, before offering her a respectful nod and turning to follow the rest of the Fellowship through the gate.
Arwen didn't let her tears fall as she looked down, that would come later, when the sun had set and the moon and stars hung overhead; when she could curl up in bed and cry into the soft silk sheets and pillows, fighting the grief that this day had wrought.
It wasn't enough that she'd lost mother two millennia past and her dearest friends not all that long afterwards. No, she had to be denied the one that had eased some of that pain as well. She had to be denied what Ránëwén had left this world for; love…deep, abiding love that she knew would transcend the Ages long after the mortal gift it was guaranteed to bring.
Now she was expected to go to the go to Valinor, the Undying Lands, to wither away within the eternal Sanctuary. She would make the journey alone. She would be guarded, yes, but her father would not leave these shores until the War ended, and her brothers didn't seem inclined to either. Her servants would be there as well, as would most of her people, but she hadn't known any of them the way she knew Ránëwén. They were acquaintances, all of them who looked to her as their lady, and therefore beyond reproach.
So she was well and truly alone, it seemed…
Such was her fate now; such was her doom…
The land Voldemort and his forces came to in was nowhere near as pleasant. Evil calls to evil, so what better a place for them to arrive on Middle Earth in than Mordor, the bane of its world? The description Boromir had given it fit remarkably well; it was a barren wasteland, riddled with fire, and ash and dust. The air itself was a poisonous fume….
And the Eye had already seen them…
"Oy! I think he's waking up!" one of the Weasley twins called, drawing the groups attention to who they now knew was technically their eldest member, strange as that still seemed.
The raven-haired wizard didn't even twitch for several moments; he just lay there, still and silent. Not enough to be considered a corpse, but more than enough for a number of people to look away, assuming that he was still unconscious and that the redhead had been mistaken.
Nevertheless, when no one around him made any suspicious actions, he finally opened his eyes. The emerald eyes he'd inherited from his mother scanned over each and every one of them so quickly one might assume that the sad, almost pitying looks their faces and souls exhibited didn't register within his mind; however it quickly became apparent that such was not so at all.
Forcing himself up into a sitting position obviously took quite a bit of effort, but he did it, before looking around once again, the panicked look in his gaze quickly seeping into his face before seizing every part of his being.
No one knew what to say when that gaze turned to them, glistening with exhaustion, confusion, and rapidly deteriorating hope. The adults present had only just learned of the existence of the lady they'd seen fall a short while before, and that – combined with her relation to a Harry Potter they knew so very little of – was a bit much for even the quickest of them to grasp. And the D.A. members were far too torn up by Violet's death, as many of them had gone to her for advice at some prior point or another, to offer much in the way of comfort.
And even if they could, there wasn't much they could say.
What did they know of the loss of a loved one?
Cho knew, to some extent, yes…
But none of them could comprehend the loss of someone that had been a cherished and beloved companion a millennium or more. None could expect -- or wish -- to realize the loss of a soul mate… The loss of your other half… The only ones who might understand it were those who had lost the other half of their soul, or those who'd had their whole soul stolen, perhaps by way of a Dementor's Kiss…
Nonetheless, a silence such as this: uncomfortable and tension-filled, could not go on forever. Even the most distraught or lost individuals know that.
So, finally, someone did break the quiescence, his usually cool tones only slightly broken by emotion. "She's not here, Potter."
Harry's eyes snapped over to meet those of his childhood rival, desperate denial clear in their depths, though not voiced.
"She's dead."
For several moments, the silence returned, the group watching Harry as he looked into the younger blonde's gaze; searching, frantically probing for any trace of hope…and not finding it. Then the heavy silence was broken by short gasps of breath, drawn in hurriedly, as one might expect to hear from the victim of a near drowning, but that rapidly escalated to the pained gasps only someone who'd come upon Cruciatus victims might recognize.
'She's dead…' The words repeated themselves over and over again, an endless chorus of a simple fact that shattered every part of his being; his heart, his soul, his world all shattered by a simple phrase…
'She's dead…dead…dead…She's…dead…dead…dead…dead…She's…'
"No…" the denial came out a short, pained, and probably incoherent breath, begging for a confirmation that wasn't to come.
He couldn't breathe…
It was too painful…
His heart, already crushed only moments before, seemed to break again and again with each and every breath.
'Why should I, anyway?' The wizard realized, shaking his head frantically as his vision blurred with tears that quickly overflowed their banks to run down paling features set in a tortured expression. 'She's dead…dead…dead…dead…Ránëwén is…dead…'
That was all it took for what remained of his breakfast, and then some, to force its way up as he fell forward, the resulting waste sullying a forest floor that would've been quite familiar to him otherwise. Whether he'd want to think about that or not didn't really matter, mainly because he really didn't have the option. The reason being palpable as he'd continued falling the short distance to that very floor, while his brain simply seemed to shut down, offering him the sweet oblivion of the unconscious realm once more.
And he therefore wasn't awake to see the affect a familiar, authoritative voice had on the members of his group, when it rang through the forest.
"Ya na le? Arman ta manka lyaa en Lothlórien?"
Every witch and wizard there spun around in a different direction, their wands drawn. Some of the D.A. sent off a mild hex, and a few even managed a proper stupefy in the short time that it took them to realize they probably shouldn't shoot first, but what was done was done.
They weren't too sure of what to expect from their questioner now. On one hand, whomever or whatever it was might not want to attack a group of armed witches and wizards. On the other, they might be like the centaurs in the Forbidden Forest; completely against Wizarding relations, and therefore just as likely, if not more so, to attack.
After a number of moments of near-absolute silence, broken only by the distant calls of different birds, the same voice rang through the forest around them once again. "Wizards?"
Dumbledore didn't hesitate as the others did, simply offering a confirmative nod.
"Handelete…" this was said in an almost off-handed manner, not nearly as direct as its predecessor, and therefore probably not meant for their ears."What is your business in the Golden Wood?"
"Golden Wood?" Hermione smiled slightly, sharing a glance with Ron before calling out, "So this is Lothlórien? Middle Earth?"
The soft conversations that this incited were made even more beautiful by the fact that they had no meaning to the wizards. Soft, lilting accents blended easily into a harmonious language that clearly transcended all others. It was a bit disappointing to hear it cut short by the present authority once more, "Of course… Now why are you here?"
"We don't know," Hermione replied quickly, ignoring her elders reproving looks in favor of the nervous, yet somewhat explanatory babble she began to discharge. "Harry cast a spell while he was fighting Voldemort--" if she had paused there, she would've noticed how silent the forest had become, "then Voldemort sent another killing curse at him, and Harry--"
"Harry?" the authority decided to cut her babbling off then, a strange note of…something, in it. "El…Harry Potter?"
Hermione nodded, rolling her eyes at Snape's muttered; "Bloody Hell, even in other worlds, he's famous…"
"Not really," all of the witches and wizards spun around to see several tall, fair-haired Elves approaching; dressed in garments that were clearly designed for camouflage in this environment. "Elerossë is beloved to the Galadhrim, and the few outside of our woods who know him. But he often tried to make himself scarce, and left many of his more heroic deeds without a hero to be recognized for them… You are friends of his?" At their nods he continued, offering a slight smile. "I, Haldir Elennsar, welcome you to Lothlórien."
"They should be fine, they're just exhausted, an--" Celeborn halted at the bottom of the stairwell that led down to the Grove, taking in his wife's pale appearance as she gazed into her mirror. "Melda nin? What is it?"
"Pain, so much pain…" she murmured brokenly, her eyes filling with tears as she met his across the Grove, watching as he hurried over to take her hands.
"Whose pain, melda nin?"
"Eleross" she paused, and a shimmering tear danced sadly down a porcelain cheek."Ránëwén… He's in pain, Celeborn…He…" she stopped abruptly, shaking her head as more tears began to fall.
The Lord of the Galadhrim quickly caught her in a gentle embrace as her knees gave way, bringing a caring hand up to rub soothing circles on her back as he held her, resting his chin softly atop her head while she sobbed into his shoulder. "Shh…Shh, now, melda nin, it'll be all right…"
"No," the Lady of Light gasped out, raising her head from his shoulder to meet his eyes with her own tearful ones, "It won't…Ce-Celebrían never healed…We don't even know if Valinor can heal her…And he can't even go there, can he? Not while the War is raging… Only Elves may pass to the Undying Lands in the midst of a war such as this. It's too… hazardous…to accept possible candidates for acceptance…But…How…So much pain…"
"Why?" Celeborn asked, concern coloring his tones. "What did you see, melda nin?"
The Elven Lady shook her head, "I couldn't see anything…Nenya wouldn't show me…It just kept showing me the Fellowship, the Eye, and anything else that was relevant to this War… I don't want to push it…for it could bring Sauron's Eye upon them…But…they're in pain…I can feel his pain…and I could feel hers too, but… I can't see her anymore…Her presence is…shadowed…"
"Shadowed?" the Elf-Lord repeated, alarmed. "In what way?"
"I…I do not know…" the Lady of Light shook her head. "I wish I did…"
Hermione sighed, make yet another effort to offer the beautiful realm they were moving through the appreciation it so clearly deserved, but worry, confusion, and grief were not sentiments that the heart dealt with casually.
The mind that had made the Sorting Hat come so close to sending her to Ravenclaw House was compiling more and more questions, some of which would never be answered, at a rate that would leave most completely befuddled.
What happened?
How did they get here?
What was going on?
Were these nearly ethereal beings really Harry's friends?
They seemed to be, and Mr. Elennsar certainly hadn't been the only one present who'd been concerned when they'd realized Harry was there…
Flashback
"I beg your pardon, sir, but do you have any medical supplies with you? Potions or draughts?" Madam Pomfrey inquired politely, a dedicated healer even in the most bizarre of situations.
"Yes, of course," the Elf replied amiably, not even blinking. "Is a member of your party injured?"
"I hope not," the medi-witch replied with a sigh, "But I'm afraid that Mr. Potter had--"
"Harry?" the Elf was frowning now and his voice was not quite as detached as it had previously been. "Elerossë is here?"
"Ell-er-rose?" the witch attempted to repeat, clearly puzzled.
"Elerossë," Hermione corrected, "that's Harry's Elven name. And yes," she nodded, turning to make her way over to where her friend had fallen. The concern that had dominated her mind before to the surprise of the Elves' arrival returned all too quickly as she surveyed her friend's exhausted form once again, despite Mrs. Weasley's maternal efforts, there hadn't been much she could do in such a diminutive amount of time, short of turning him over and cleaning his face up a bit.
Several elves were at his side, their leader kneeling, before most of the Wizarding group knew that they were moving. They were visibly worried now, not anywhere near as aloof as they'd been only moments before.
"What happened?" Elennsar Haldir inquired grimly as he quickly scanned the wizard for damage, taking his pulse and temperature. "It looks like he had a nwalyáor
"A what?" Madam Pomfrey inquired, blinking.
"A nwalyáor," another elf, who they would've noticed looked quite a bit like the other if they had cared to look, replied helpfully, when his captain did not look up. "Usually, it is only found to this extent, or more severe, in out kind, but mortals are said to experience it occasion as well. It is an ailment of the heart, experienced when one witnessed a horrendous deed… or the fall of a loved one." At that, he stiffened, his eyes widening in alarm. "Where is Ránëwén?"
End of Flashback
The witch shook her head with yet another sigh. Considering the Elves reaction to Harry's condition, combined with how carefully they were caring for him now, and how they'd reacted to the news of Violet's death…it was hard to believe they were anything but friends.
At the very least, they deserved a chance. Which, fortunately, was what the Headmaster was prepared to give them?
She didn't know much about the Eldar race. Regardless of the numerous hours she'd spent researching it after meeting Violet, the Wizarding world simply didn't know much about them… They were said to be tall, fair beings -- with extraordinary grace and wisdom -- that lived forever, unless -- Violet had explained that -- they willingly bound themselves to a mortal, or were slain by another…
Very different from the House Elves, it was easy to see. Though, the founder of S.P.E.W. herself was quite pleased to find that there were people that might be able to convince the House Elves -- or the 'Celahir', as Violet had called them -- of the virtues of independence. Although, she had to admit that Violet was right in saying that; 'A time of war is not when such banners should be raised'. Which was why she'd set that banner down for the time, even as Ron's comment; 'They've been this way for ages, 'Mione! A few more years won't hurt them!' had stung, quite a bit…
Still, more questions continued to arise due to their current situation. But the most pressing one for the moment was why she'd made her way up to the front of the part, to ask, albeit timidly, "Is he going to be all right?"
The Captain turned his head slightly to meet her gaze, even as he continued walking, an affable smile softening his wearied, but nonetheless handsome features. "He should be fine. The city is not far from here, and the Lady Galadriel is awaiting our arrival. Once in her care, he should heal quite rapidly."
After offering her a nod, he moved further down the supposed 'path' they were walking on, to speak to one of the younger Elves, leaving her standing there, her eyes wide as the Elves carrying Harry's stretcher, -- as they had been since they'd set out across the forest, several hours before -- leaving her behind.
"What is it, 'Mione?" Ron asked softly when he and several other members of their group had caught up. It wasn't that they were untrusting, the Elven Captain had simply told them to remain in between the divided Elven group, for their own protection. "Is Harry all right?"
Hermione jumped slightly a moment later, when her friend put a hand on her shoulder, his eyes inquisitive as he pointedly kept her moving down the path. "Wh-What? Oh, no, no, Harry's fine…"
"Then what's wrong?"
"Nothing…" the teenage witch shook her head. "Nothing… it's just something Mr. Elennsar said…"
"What was it?" Neville inquired when she paused again.
"Ron…" Hermione continued slowly, speaking very softly, so much so that it was clear that she hoped only the other witches and wizards could hear her. "D-Do you remember what Harry's foster mother's name was?"
"Umm…I'm not sure…" the redhead frowned, "I think it began with a 'G'…"
"Galadriel…" everyone looked back slightly at Cho Chang, making the Ravenclaw blush slightly. "At least that's what I think it was…"
Hermione nodded slowly, sighing. "That's what I thought…" And before anyone could question that, she moved further down the path again, under the pretence of checking her friend's health once more.
"I amar prestar aen…" Galadriel murmured, gazing into her Mirror, the hand that bore Nenya drifting just above the surface of the water. "Han mathon ne nen…" she closed her eyes, tilting her head back slightly. "Han mathon ne chae," then she opened them once again, looking up at the stars above, "A han noston ned 'wilith…" AN: Translations for that are at the end…though you really shouldn't need them if you've watched the Fellowship and/or the Two Towers half as many times as I have…
"What had changed, my love?" Lord Celeborn asked her quietly, while finishing his descent down the steps that led to the Grove, his gaze worried.
Nenya's Keeper drew her hand back from the Mirror, closing her eyes as she stepped away from it. "How are they?"
"Camthalion, Rúmil and their companions are well enough, it seems they just had a rather strong magical shock. They should wake soon."
"Hannon I'Vala…" she murmured quietly, before opening her eyes to meet her husbands gaze.
The Grey-Prince met her glittering eyes easily, long accustom to the wisdom and beauty weighed within. He repeated his previous question quietly. "What had changed, my love?"
Galadriel closed her eyes, grimacing slightly as she replied. "Everything…"
"Everything?" the Lord of the Galadhrim repeated with a frown.
She nodded, glancing back at her Mirror before making her way around it, making her way over to her partner of well past an Age. "The twins' companions were not the only people of Eleross's world that were brought here… Two large groups have arrives as well. One of Dark, one of Light. The Light is made up of his friends, peers, teachers and some of their comrades. The Dark is made up of…"
"Voldemort and his Death Eaters." Celeborn realized with a sigh.
"Uma…"
"So now the Dark Lord has an army of wizards at his command, not just one…"
Galadriel nodded once again, "Uma…Though it isn't quite as bad as that…and yet it's worse… The wizards of that world, remember, don't recognize magic the way our world does…"
"So they aren't as powerful as Saruman… But they use magic for many more things, including combat, which is rarely seen here. And that gives the Ring Lord a terrible advantage…"
"If the Light wizards will not fight, uma," the Lady of Light confirmed.
"But they will?"
The Lady nodded, closing her eyes, "They are warriors…They will fight. But… I don't know how much they will be able to do… Nenya has rarely seen such power before. It doesn't know what to show me… I can't really see much of what this may cause… With the exception of what Elerossë spoke of…"
"And the Fellowship cannot be warned?"
"No…" Galadriel closed her eyes, and her shimmering, golden hair flowed back and forth as she shook her head slightly. "They have already set out on their Quest, Elrond, if he knows what is happening, cannot warn them of it, and I dare not try to contact Mithrandir through the waters… I can barely see his presence through the Shadows as it is…"
"Someone will need to warn them," Celeborn pointed out, shaking his head.
After a moment, his lady shook her head. "Let us wait until Elerossë may offer his advice… Though he is young, this is a foe that we truly do not know…"
The Lord of Lothlorien was silent for several moments, but then he nodded with a sigh. "Be iest lîn." He offered a gentle smile as he took her hand and bowed over it, placing a chaste kiss on its surface.
Galadriel returned the smile with a hesitant one, which suddenly turned to a slight frown as her eyes became distant. "They're here…"
"Caras Galadhon," Haldir offered as the Wizarding group they'd been leading through the wood finally reached the hilltop he'd been waiting on. "The heart of Elvendom on earth. Realm of the Lord Celeborn, and of Galadriel, Lady of Light…" He smirked slightly at the awed expressions many of them bore, before continuing on his way, the other guards following; two of them carrying the Lady's foster-son on a stretcher.
May of the witches and wizards present had to scurry down the hill after them, when they finally shook themselves free of their stupor. That was yet another sign of their youth, though one the Elves weren't entirely unused to seeing…
Though really, it was a wonder the group didn't freeze up several times as they entered and made their way through the fair city.
The choir was practicing again, their clear, melodious voices ringing through city as clearly as always, beauty in every sense of the word, even as the songs they now sung were far more mournful than they'd once been.
The city's elegant architecture, built in the Elven fashion, and therefore designed to gracefully enhance the environment it had been built in was undoubtedly unlike anything most of them had seen before. The lighting clearly amazed them, and it wasn't any wonder really. Harry had once said that the Elven lights, lit by magic, looked like stars that had been taken down from the heavens, as was most probably their intent.
The pure white light that lit the cities tallest treetops, and the palace that was wrapped around them were even more magnificent though, and designed to impress; which they certainly did.
Once inside that very building, Haldir led them over to the archway on the other side, and bowed to his Lord and Lady, who stood at the top of the steps on the other side. He then stepped aside, to leave the guests to them.
Hermione wasn't the only one that was watching the pair that was coming towards them. She knew that this was undoubtedly the lord and lady of this realm, as Mr. Elennsar had stated earlier, the Lord Celeborn and the Lady of Light, Galadriel…Harry's foster-mother. It was a bit much for her mind to comprehend though, and it made it quite obvious why everything had seemed so child-like to Harry…
Even if she didn't know that this city had been there when Harry had arrived, and had remained throughout the entire duration of his stay, she'd know that this city predated Hogwarts. The Wizarding School's age and design and…well, everything, seemed just so… insignificant… so mortal, when compared to this…
The Lord and Lady seemed to be cloaked in the same radiance the room itself was. Though that may've been the room's light reflecting off of them. It dimmed slightly when they reached the bottom of the steps though, allowing them to make out their hosts' Elven features.
Lord Celeborn, clothed in long, glimmering gray robes, watched them with gray eyes that held the wisdom of time and endurance…
Galadriel, the Lady of Light certainly dressed the part, clothed in a silky gown the purest white that clung to her willowy frame and enhanced the inner light of her being. Her sapphire-blue eyes seemed to hold both the darkness of the night sky, and the light of the stars that usually adorned it, dimmed only slightly by the wisdom of several millennia.
The smile she offered was warm and hospitable, and it served to bring Hermione and several others out of the daze the pair's arrival had induced. "Welcome to Lothlórien…"
End Chapter 12.
Translations:
Entulesse a Arda - Return to Ardo (Middle Earth world)
Nai Vala - By the Valar
Ya na le? - Who are you?
Arman ta manka lyaa en Lothlorien? - And what is your business in Lothlorien?
Handelete… - Interesting
Elennsar - March warden I couldn't find a surname for him, so I just gave him one… He's called the "March warden" of Lothlórien, so I translated that and used it.
Nwalyáor - Pained heart
I amar prestar aen…- The world is changed…
Han mathon ne nen…- I can feel it in the water…
Han mathon ne chae… -I can feel it in the earth…
A han noston ned 'wilith… - I can smell it in the air…
Be iest lîn. - According to your wish.
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AN: LOL, well, I'm impressed. 56 Reviews! At this rate I'll have to keep updating the fic (instead of working on my other ones)!
Well, what'd you think of this chapter?
I should be able to get the next chapter out next weekend; I'll try, at least. This next week certainly can't be as busy as this one was! But I do have some exciting news! (If you read the note at the beginning, you'd already know, but…)
1. NO MORE EXAMS!!! :-D (Be happy, that means less waiting for you!)
2. I'm an aunt! My niece was born yesterday! She's the sweetest little thing! She cried a little, but I can't really blame her. I mean, she had to come into the world all of are living in! (And everyone was passing her around, which couldn't have been fun…) I got to hold her for nearly twenty minutes though! And she didn't cry at all! …I probably won't get to see her again for a week or two, but I'm still happy!
Umm…well…that's all that I can think of for now!
Thanks for reading!
PLEASE REVIEW!!!
Bye!
Jess S