Disclaimer: I own the plot, though I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.
AN: Hi! Long time no see! I won't keep you, I just wanted to say 'hi!' and enjoy!
There and Back Again by Jess S
Chapter 19: Magic, Murder, Murders, Majesty, & Mandos
Lothlórien
"What!" If the lacking reactions of the Galadrim was anything to judge by, the Elves of the Golden Wood were apparently growing accustom to the 'mortals' their midst. Of course, that does not mean that the discordant chorus of incredulity was well-received, only that the patience of the Eldar had risen to a new level due to the trials of having beings with so little time in the world nearby. Now one would think that the stress these youthful beings brought into this Age-old world so intrinsically adapted to the peace, tranquility and beauty of the Eldar race would quickly enervate any member of said race, predominantly on those that needed to work with them. But despite the practicality of that hypothesis, it did not seem to hold true for the lord and lady of the Galadhrim, towards which the outcry that had broken the early morning hours had been directed. No, the two Eldars that had ruled the fair realm that they were guests in now did not seem to be bothered in the slightest by the skepticism of their wizarding company.
After a moment's pause, Lady Galadriel shook her head, "I should think that this news would please you."
"It wou--It does." Dumbledore assured her, pausing for a moment to collect his thoughts while giving everyone else time to do the same. "But I must confess that...it is rather..."
"Impossible?" Sirius offered, his eyes not having left the exhausted form of his childhood friend since he had entered the room a short time earlier. He had been up all night, worrying about the great lunar orb that had been hanging high in the sky, and the effects he knew it would have on the other Marauder.
"Well..." the older wizard frown, and then nodded his head, "to our understanding of magic... yes."
"To your understanding; perhaps." Galadriel smiled, shaking her head. "To our understanding it is not."
"We are the Firstborn," her husband agreed, a strangely similar smile crossing his face as his eyes grew distant, as though reaching back to a time and place long before any mortal could imagine, searching for the distant memory the slumbered deep within all Elves, far, far back to when the first of the Eldar opened their eyes and saw the stars, so that the captured memory of that initial encounter; that point in time when all was perfect and the world laid before them was full of hope; optimism and anticipation, unmarred by the evils that Melkor would brusquely instigate. "To us...the world is magic. And no evil is indestructible, even the Ring of Power has a weakness... And the light of the Telperion could never be so wholly tainted; not with Tilion of the Silver Bow guarding it..."
Several moments of silence hung heavily in the air, as the idea of what they had been talking about for the last half hour finally started to sink in. Slowly, some of the looks of shock and disbelief changed to awe and joy, and finally the silence was broken to the first verbal sign of budding acceptance.
"So...that's it?" Hermione inquired, meeting the eyes of the wizard that had been her instructor in Defense Against the Dark Arts two years before. "You're not a werewolf anymore? You're just... Remus?"
"Not quite," Remus smiled, his fatigue from the trials of the previous night not managing to conceal his happiness at the news. "I am not a werewolf... But I can still take the form of the wolf. Like an Animagus."
"Ingenious..." Dumbledore shook his head, smiling benignly, that twinkle in his eyes that seemed to be an inborn attribute of his whenever he was in a good mood restored for the time being. "Simply ingenious..." he met the eyes of Hogwarts' Deputy Headmistress and shook his head, "I do not believe anyone has ever considered trying that before."
"Altering the relationship between a wizard and the wolf-demon from that of werewolf to Animagus-wolf?" McGonagall shook her head, also smiling. "No, I do not believe it has been... It's not the sort of thing we'd be predisposed to consider. What made you think of it, if I may ask?" she inquired, turning everyone's attention back to the two royal elves.
"We did not," Galadriel smiled, shaking her head as her husband continued. "Elerossë and Ránëwén spent a great deal of time considering the matter some centuries prior to their return to your world. I believe it was Ránëwén that eventually suggested it, and Elerossë managed to fashion the spells we used by merging the magic of your world with the spells of healing and faith of the Eldar, as well as some amount of Istari magic."
"Harry did this?" Remus asked after a moment's silence, his eyes wide. "All of the spells? By himself?"
"Elerossë possesses an inner drive that few others can even relate to, Arminas." Galadriel offered him another smile, "When he sets his mind to something there are very few things that he cannot do. Now, if you will excuse me," she inclined her head slightly, "I must go check on our other guests."
After bidding the wizards' farewell, the lord and lady of the Galadrim descended down to the ground from the telain that their wizarding guests resided in, before turning to begin the relatively short journey to the healers' station.
"Has your Mirror offered anything of their travels?" Celeborn inquired as they made their way through the city.
"Of the Fellowship? No." The sorceress shook her head, sighing softly. "I can only assume that they were forced to make their way through Moria."
"And the evil that resides therein must be blocking much of your Sight."
"Yes."
"But Elerossë is still alive? He, Rúmil and Camthalion are still well?"
The former princess of the Noldor nodded, "Yes... As are Legolas, Mithrandir, Estel, and the other members of the Fellowship..."
"But?"
She sighed, closing her eyes tiredly and shaking her head compassionately. "They are all exceedingly weary... It has been a long time since I have felt Elerossë's strength so depleted. He has been using much more of his magic then he would like... He may soon be forced to draw on his life force itself."
Celeborn frowned, shaking his head, "Dan... He has made use of his magic in combat many times before now."
"Yes, but not in places so utterly consumed by darkness and evil... Even the time he spent in Mordor cannot compare. Sauron was quiescent, so he didn't need to fight anything outside the physical realm then… Whatever now controls Moria is a creature of Melkor, and a powerful one. Its presence would tire anyone able to sense it. And Harry has undoubtedly been using his powers to shield the others from its acrimony, while at the same time concealing them from the countless other perils the mine affords its visitors."
Her Sindarin husband shook his head worriedly, a frown marring his features as the pair made their way into the healers' main station and headed for the far end of the clinic, where the pair of Elves that had come from Elerossë's world; King Nolofinw and Healer Niwenna, lay, apparently still cataleptic.
"Have they shown any sign of waking?" Galadriel inquired of the Galadhrim healer that was stationed to watched over them, while examining the pair herself for any sign of change.
"No, my lady. They haven't even moved since we placed them here...they barely draw breath."
"Do you have any idea as to why this might be?" Celeborn asked, shaking his head, "Both Camthalion and Rúmil have stated that it did take them some time to adjust to the differences on Elerossë's world, but nothing that could cause a failing such as this."
"We have no way of really knowing anything, my lord..." the healer replied, shaking her head sadly. "This has obviously never happened before... It took the prince a few weeks to recover from his first journey, but we have always believed that that was simply because of the volatility of the spell that brought him here... and both of the Míriel twins were up and about only a few hours after their arrival. Ready for travel, even, barely a day later."
"Yes..." Galadriel nodded, frowning as she attempted, once again to reach the minds of the two elves before her, only to find that there seemed to be nothing there to grasp... It made no sense, seeing as they still drew breath. "Stand back, Idril, melda nin. I shall call them back with Nenya's Power."
"Be careful, melda nin."
The Lady of the Golden Wood spared her husband a tight smile as both he and the other elf backed away several steps, as instructed, before raising her right hand and holding it out over the prone for of the King of I'Silemnan. She closed her mind, reaching inward for her own inner strength, which she sent down her arm and through her hand to harness the Power of one of the Three Elf Rings, and sent that Power outward, to search for the wayward minds that had been so far beyond her grasp only a moment before. She did not know how much time past before she found her quarries, but find them she did. Having accomplished that, she gentle enveloped both minds in the warmth of compassion and kindness, before netting both in nets of compulsion, to pull them back to their far-off, quiescent corporeal forms. After waiting a moment for them to adjust, she released them once more, reeling her Power back in and opening her eyes to watch as the brilliant light that Nenya had been giving off gradually faded as its Power receded and returned to its normal state of dormancy. "Mae govannen, King Nolofinw, Healer Niwenna," she smiled, nodding gently to both Elves as they slowly rose, mindful of the apparently complete lack of strength and dexterity their bodies currently suffered from. "Welcome to Lothlórien..."
The East Gate of Moria
The entire Fellowship watched in horror as the wave of ghostly green light engulfed their friend and leader. Time seemed to slow, very nearly to the point of stopping as the Istari was slowly blasted back from the entrance. Then he landed and time sped up again, and they could hear the Death Eaters shouting more spells directed towards them outside, and see strange lights, some like the one that had just hit Gandalf, some not, coming towards the entrance.
"Protego!" Harry shouted, sending a wave of blue light to the entrance, thereby shielding them from the multi-colored magical assault from the outside. "Solido! Colloportus!" With the first, the shield darkened to become a bluish-gray color and with the second and an odd squelching noise, the strange shield sealed itself to the mine's entranceway. The grayish color distorted a little, making loud noises and changing color when different spells collided with it. "Mussitare..." he commanded, muting the shields complaints before collapsing back against the wall and sliding down to the floor in exhaustion.
Silence reigned throughout the small area, broken only by the distant sound of the Orcs of Moria trying to find a way to pursue them.
"Gandalf?" Frodo's quiet inquiry broke the silence, and then there was a scrambling of many feet as they all hurried to their comrade's aid. The Ringbearer quickly raised his eyes to the fosterling of the Galadhrim. "What's happened to him? Is he all right?"
"He appears to be sleeping..." Legolas murmured, watching the Istari's wide open eyes, which appeared to be searching some distant horizon that none of them could see.
Harry frowned, before struggling to make his way over to their fallen friend, waving off both the helping hands that Rúmil and Camthalion offered. He half-stumbled, half-crawled over to the group, before kneeling beside the other wizard, and gently placing his index and pointer finger on the Istari's neck to feel for a pulse. It was strange... Gandalf's countenance looked far too peaceful for someone who had just been struck down with the killing curse. After several moments of searching, he shook his head, moving away from the fallen wizard before closing his eyes in sorrow. "He is dead."
"What!" Frodo's cry was echoed by nearly all of the others, though the Míriel twins had already backed away from the group, both in order to keep watch on the small corridor that led into the mines and because they already knew what Avada Kedavra was...
"Avada Kedavra," Harry murmured softly, his repetition of the lethal curse they'd heard only moments before sound far too gentle, too sympathetic, too mild... "It is a curse created long ago by dark wizards of my native world. It is also known as the Killing Curse."
"Then the wizards outside are the ones you came to warn us about?" Aragorn realized softly, clearly suppressing his grief in order to take up the function of leader, which Gandalf has assigned to him a short time before...when he was still alive.
"Yes." Harry confirmed as he made his way back over to the wall, and leaned against it, sliding down to rest on the filthy floor.
After several moments of heavy silence, Merry's soft inquiry startled all of them, "What are we going to do?"
"I honestly don't know..." Harry shook his head tiredly, "I used too much of my strength to get us this far."
"You cannot take us from here to the Golden Wood then?" Aragorn realized. "The way you brought us to the West Gate?"
"No..." Harry sighed, closing his eyes. "I can hold the shield for a time, but I don't have enough strength to do much more then that..."
"What about a Portkey?" Camthalion suggested, his voice respectfully quiet as he mourned the passing of their Istari friend.
Harry frowned, opening his eyes to glance tiredly over at his wife's cousin. "That might work..." he forced himself to rise enough to shrug his knapsack off, before pulling it around into his lap. After a few moments of rummaging around in the bag, he shook his head and set it down beside him, frowning. As he did so, his hand brushed by the elegant and effective pin that his kindred had long used to secure their remarkable traveling cloaks. The mithril pin was fashioned into the shape of one of the Leaves of the Golden Wood, with the main body of the leaf then coated in a soft, nearly clear, green paint, thereby leaving the mithril's innate tendency to shine through unhindered. "Uma...It should work... Give me a moment," he required of the others, who merely shrugged and nodded their consent, it wasn't as though they could go anywhere anyway.
"What did he say?" Gimli demanded in a loud whisper, sensing that the wizard needed quiet, but nonetheless wanting to know what was happening.
"What's he doing?" Pippin asked.
"Hush..." Aragorn ordered softly, trying to watch the way into the mines, the way out of it, and the wizard all at the same time.
"He is devising a means of escape," Legolas told them, his soft, melodic voice carrying to all of them in the heavy silence even as the area was lit up by the distortions of magical light at the shielded archway.
"With magic?" Pippin demanded excitedly.
"Yes," Aragorn told them, shaking his head, "now hush!"
Harry shook his head as he closed his eyes and forced his thoughts inward once more. He reached deep inside himself with his inner eyes, searching for something to connect him to the glorious Elven city that had long been his home on this world. The first thing that came to mind when he thought of home was, of course, his wife's face... He had used his memories of his beloved Ránëwén many, many times for just this purpose, as his magic had never had any trouble finding the other half of his soul... But she wasn't in Lothlórien now... With a quick, ruthless surge of raw soul magic he quickly suppressed the pain that welled up deep inside him at those thoughts and searched for another image, finally settling on his bedroom... It made sense; he was utterly exhausted, and whenever he'd returned home injured (which had been rather often...) he'd always awaken in his room, tucked safely away in his bed... So, with a swift thought, he wrapped his magic around that image and sent it into the broach, commanding it to hold the image and bring them there in a few short moments, "Camthalion... Rúmil..."
"Everybody, grab hold of each other!" Camthalion ordered, while grabbing his shoulder and the Hobbit, Sam's as well.
"Make sure that you're linked to Harry directly, or through someone else," Rúmil told them, grabbing Merry and Pippin after he saw that Merry had already followed those directions and had placed a hand on Harry's elbow.
Once he was sure everyone was connected, Harry murmured the appropriate word to activate the portkey, "portus," and cautioned them, "hang on everybody," before grabbing the pin. He felt the portkey's somewhat familiar tug at his navel before all went dark.
Outside the East Gate of Moria
"What in Slytherin's name is that thing?" Dolohov demanded of his fellow Death Eaters as they continued to beleaguer it with an eclectic array of charms and hexes.
Mulciber rolled his eyes at the younger wizard's annoyance, "It's obviously a shield of some sort, Dolohov..." Why Lord Voldemort had seen fit to give this youth a position of power was well and truly beyond him. He'd much rather be following someone like Malfoy or even one of the less-than-sane Lestranges at the moment.
"I can see that!"
"Yes, well then why did you bother asking!"
"Because--"
"Sirs!"
Both wizards turned to the younger death eater that had interrupted their argument, "What!"
He pointed towards the mines entrance, "The barrier is fading!"
"What?" Dolohov looked over at the entrance, to see that the strange, blue shield that had been denying them entrance for the past several minutes was, indeed, fading. "Excellent... You three," he pointed to three closest to the mine, "move forward, attack as soon as the barrier itself is gone, you two," he nodded to the two death eaters closest to the original three, "follow close behind and cover them, you," he glared at Mulciber, "lead the attack. The rest of us will wait here and cover your backs."
"Of course, sir," Mulciber half-snorted, while moving forward to follow his appointed 'commander's' orders. "Well, you heard him," he snapped at the five others the idiot had assigned to the attack, "move!"
And so as the barrier rapidly faded away they gathered up around the entrance, waiting until there was nothing blocking the mines entryway before charging into the darkness. There was no one in the entranceway, so they moved further down into the mine, only to have to pull back out moments later, when the Orc archers that lived therein assaulted them with a seemingly endless barrage of arrows.
Mulciber frowned as he looked around the entryway. There was no other way out, and they couldn't go back the way they had come. He could feel the anti-appartion spell they'd cast hours before still in the air... "Dammit!" he snarled after several moments of thought. "Sir?" One of the trio that had been assigned to follow him into the cave inquired nervously. "They're not here; fall back." The older death eater shook his head, while leading the way back out into the sunlight.
"Well?" Dolohov demanded when he saw them, "Where are they? Surely you can't be so incompetent as to--"
"They portkeyed out."
"What!"
Lothlórien, Healers Ward
"Lothlórien? Arda?" The Earth-born Elf King inquired, while slowly pushing himself up into a sitting position, warily allowing his traumatized muscles plenty of time to adjust to the movement. "The home of Rúmil and Camthalion Míriel?"
"Uma," Galadriel nodded, offering a kind smile as she nodded to the frazzled healer that was hovering a few feet away, anxious to look her now conscious patients over. After the foreigners had drained the small glasses of water that Idril had provided for their parched throats, she continued, overlooking the medicinal ministrations of the other she-elf with the ease born of plenteous practice. "I am Galadriel, Lady of the Golden Wood, and this is my husband, Celeborn. The Míriel twins woke and departed on a necessary venture some time past, we have been waiting for you to wake for quite some time. How are you feeling?"
Nolofinw glanced at the only elf he knew before awakening here and raised an eyebrow slightly. "Well enough, hannon le."
Healer Niwenna also nodded, offering a hesitant smile to the royal elves. "As am I... Though I must admit that I feel rather strange here..." She paused, concentrating for a moment before closing her eyes and shaking her head as she opened them once again, meeting the eyes of Lothlórien's Lady with only a small amount of reticence. "I am sorry... I cannot describe it..."
"I too feel somewhat odd..." the King of I'Silemnan offered after a moment's thought. "As though there is something calling me... It does not feel wrong, per say... just different..."
The Rulers of the Golden Wood shared puzzled frowns before Celeborn hesitantly offered, "Perhaps it is the Call of the Sea they feel?" he asked of is wife, shrugging slightly when her eyebrows shot up in response. "Camthalion did say that they were trapped on Earth, having long since forsaken the path to the Grey Havens..."
"That is true..." the Bearer of Nenya agreed softly, turning her bewitching eyes back to the pair. But before she could follow this tangent of thought, a powerful presence assaulted the wards of her Wood, drawing her attention away from the conversation at hand. Darkness was the first thing she sensed... Not the darkness that the moon journeyed through, but the darkness that evil found its' home in. Something that was absolutely evil in an unadulterated form was trying to enter her home...
There was something familiar about it though, she realized with a start, as she sent her powers out and narrowed in on its location. She then sensed the even more familiar presence of her beloved foster- son, and realized what had happened... It was confirmed by the presence of Camthalion and Rúmil. Then Legolas Thranduilion... And Estel Elrondion... a young dwarf lord...a nobleman of Gondor...and four Hobbits... And as her son--in-law had informed her of not long before, it was one of these small, typically cheerful beings that bore the Ring of Power...
'Frodo...' she sent out to the young Hobbit, searching for his reaction, to see just how far the Ring had managed to corrupt the young being. 'Your coming to us, is as the footsteps of Doom. You bring great Evil here, Ringbearer...' She first sensed surprise, and then worry and the fear associated with self-doubt. But no arrogance. No hatred. No irrational fear. Just healthy concern, shielding a very great inner strength...
'I realize you take your duty's very seriously, amil-nin, dan...'
Galadriel gave another quick start, before suppressing the amusement she felt at Elerossë's very cheek. Still, she knew he was truly exhausted, and they had never actually gotten around to testing just how much stress a portkey could take throughout its journey, so without further ado, she opened a momentary loophole in her powerful wards, to allow them entrance, and sealed it as soon as they had passed through. She then quickly found them again, once again suppressing amusement as she realized that Elerossë had deemed his bedroom a good place to enter the Golden Wood through...that amusement swiftly changed to concern, however, when she sensed that her foster-son was no longer conscious... 'Elerossë? My son, are you well?' When she received no response, she withdrew into her own mind once more and opened her eyes...to find everyone in the room watching her anxiously.
"Melda nin?" Celeborn inquired, laying a gentle hand on her right shoulder as he met her worried gaze evenly.
"The Fellowship has arrived, melda nin. Elerossë is home."
"Are they well?" He asked with a frown, which only deepened when his brilliant mind made another leap of logic. "...Is Elerossë well?"
"Laa..."
"I Haryon Elerossë? They have returned?" "
Uma, the Haryon has returned, with the Míriel twins and a number of guests..."
"They are in need of medical attention?" One of the younger healers inquired, as Idril turned and began collecting supplies.
The older healer snorted, "Of course they are in need of medical attention! Have the prince and the Míriel twins ever returned from an adventure unscathed?"
"Laa?"
"Laa..." Idril shook her head in exasperation, "Is one of the border patrols bringing them in?"
"Laa, they are here..."
The healer paused in her collecting, to turn confused eyes on her sovereigns, "Here?" she asked, "In Lothlórien?"
"Uma. In Elerossë's telain."
"Hwæt!"
"Uma," Galadriel nodded, ignoring the incredulity that was all-too-clear in the chorale outcry. "Now if you will excuse me, I'm afraid I must go, I do hope you recover quickly, and are able to join us for supper tonight or breakfast on the morrow?" she offered a kind smile to the elves from her foster-son's world, and another to the healers present, "You had best follow, Idril, and choose another to assist you, I doubt more then that are needed. I shall have Haldir meet us there, he was going to lead a patrol out for the next shift change, but that can wait."
"And do you have plans for me as well, melda nin?" Celeborn inquired, an amused smile playing across his face, even as his silvery eyes were still filled with unease.
"Laa," Galadriel raised an eyebrow, "dan I thought you'd be set on coming with me?"
"Of course..." the Elf-lord replied with a slight nod. "Then shall we be on our way?"
His only answer was a curt nod, before his wife turned on her heel and nearly flew away, her vividly white wardrobe giving her the likeness of an angel flying swiftly through the woodland realm.
Lothlórien, Tinehtelë Talan
After centuries upon centuries of practice, Harry had finally gotten the knack of landing on his feet. However, even with centuries of practice, he couldn't make himself land gracefully while mostly unconscious. So, of the assorted assemblage that suddenly appeared above his bed in the Golden Wood, only the Míriel twins had enough practice with portkeying themselves to land on their feet -- albeit a bit roughly. Legolas nearly managed it, but ended up tumbling when the surface he landed on --the majesticbed -- gave way a bit beneath his feet.
As everyone slowly managed to pick themselves up off the floor, silence reigned throughout the room. Admittedly they had plenty of reasons to be quiet. First there the magical method of travel itself. Then there was the transition from being trapped in the entryway to dark mines - with Orcs inside and dark wizards outside - to what was obviously a very lavish bedchamber.
Then there was the realization that one of there number was not there.
"Where is Gandalf!" Frodo cried looking around, even as the other members of the Fellowship scrambled off the bed and/or up off the floor to look around. For indeed, the Grey Pilgrim was gone. "I was holding onto him before we were pull though! And so was Sam!"
"He should be here, then..." one of the Míriel twins frowned, his dark blue eyes puzzled as he and his twin scanned the room.
"Well then where is he!" the Ringbearer demanded.
"Perhaps one must be living, of the portkey to be effective?" the other twin pondered, meeting his brothers eyes contemplatively.
"No, tornnin," the first shook his head. "Remember, Elerossë told us that only the most sophisticated portkeys can be so selective, and he certainly wouldn't have wanted to leave Gandalf behind."
"But we did!" Frodo insisted, seeming to become more frantic with each passing second. "We left him th--"
"No, we did not." One of the twins cut him off sharply, "Calm yourself, Master Hobbit. Panicking hardly helps the situation. I'm sure Harry will be able to figure something out as soon as he recovers his strength."
That drew the group's attention to the other wizard that had joined them to aid their quest, making Merry and Pippin scramble off the bed, as they were the only members of the group that had not already done so.
"What's wrong with him?" Sam asked hesitantly, eyeing the wizard's sickly pale skin and shallow breathing.
Camthalion made his way over to the head of the bed, to lay a gentle hand on his cousin-in-law's forehead, suppressing a wince at how cool the wizard's skin was to the touch. "He overreached himself. Nothing a lot of sleep, food and perhaps some medical attention won't cure."
"Wizard's have limits on their powers?" Pippin asked, seemingly shocked at the very idea.
"Of course they do. Magic is merely another way of expending strength. They need energy to do it. The more they train themselves to handle that energy and whatnot, the longer it takes to reach their limits, but it can happen."
"What's more, Elerossë has been through a great deal lately." Rúmil pointed out, shaking his head slightly out of sadness. "Much of the power used to transport everyone from his world to ours undoubtedly came from him. With the circumstances surrounding that, and all of the troubles we had in finding you and helping you get here, it isn't any wonder that he's managed to strain himself."
"So he just needs to rest?" Merry asked, a bit uncertainly.
The twins both suppressed smiles at the Hobbits obvious concern for their cousin's husband. He was like a brother to them, after many years of camaraderie. But after only a few days in his company, the Hobbits cared for him. As did the other members of the group, though they didn't show it quite so openly.
"Essentially, yes."
"Well that's good," Boromir of Gondor offered with a sigh, turning his admittedly concerned gaze from the wizard to the elf that stood at the bed's head. "But where are we?"
"Lothlórien." The other twin replied, "And we'd best move to the outer rooms, to accommodate both those who are undoubtedly on their way to greet us and out sleeping companion."
"Of course," Camthalion agreed, "it is Elerossë's house after all."
"It is?" Frodo asked, looking around the room.
"Yes, and we really should move to the outer rooms. I'd rather not see my uncle's reaction to Elerossë arriving in the Lórien unconscious again, so soon after the last time."
"It's a bit late for that."
All the members in the Fellowship froze for a moment at the coldness in the interruption -- event those who couldn't understand Elvish recognized the slight-but-nonetheless-existent-hostility in the newcomer's voice. Then they turned, some recognizing the Marchwarden of Lothlórien, others not.
"Haldir, mae govannen!" Rúmil greeted him in a quietly cheery voice, as though he hadn't been about to agree with his twin's comment. "It's wonderful to see you again, but do you think we might be able to move into the outer rooms before undergoing the interrogation?"
The Marchwarden gave a curt nod, before stepping into the room and to the side of the doorway, gesturing for them to move through.
The twins glanced at each other, and with a barely repressed sigh, led the way into the hall and through it to the common area.
The remaining members of the Fellowship followed, hesitating for various reasons. Some glanced at Harry before leaving. Others didn't seem to want to pass the Marchwarden himself. And then, of course, they had to face the worry that assailed their minds when they saw the numerous Galadhrim guards that stood along the walls, by the windows, the door and every entry to the common area.
"Now, how did you come to be here?"
Before any of the members of the Fellowship could reply, the guards were stepping aside to allow a beautiful Elven-Lady entrance to the telain's common area. She was followed shortly by an Elven-Lord and two other Elves who appeared to be healers. "That's hardly necessary, Haldir."
"Dan, hiril nin--"
"No. Elerossë obviously brought them here. And he went through a great deal of effort doing so. He is in his bedroom, I believe?"
"Uma, hiril nin..." the Marchwarden nodded, watching as the two healers hurried out of the room in the direction of bedchambers. "Even if Elerossë-hur brought them here himself--"
"If? What do you mean if? How else could they have come to be here?" Celeborn inquired of his head of security, clearly -- at least to those who knew him well -- amused. "Surely you do not mean to suggest that there is any other way for them to come to be here without your knowing?"
"Laa, of course not, my lord," Haldir growled, "but as Elerossë-hur is not conscious to speak for them..."
'He has spoken for them,' Galadriel interrupted, calmly catching the Marchwarden's gaze to continue their conversation quietly, 'when they passed through my wards, he needed my help to do so. He 'spoke' then. And Elrond of Imladris has spoken for them as well... We have known of their noble quest since they set out from Elrond's realm.'
Haldir nodded, bowing his head slightly to his lord and lady's decision.
Celeborn, meanwhile, was looking at the assorted group, a deep frown settling across his lip and around his eyes. "Eight of the nine that set out from Rivendell are here." He murmured, his soft voice echoing around the room in an almost eerie manner, which may have seemed reminiscent to the Fellowship of the topic the Elven Lord was bringing up. "Tell me, where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him..." he shook his head slightly, and looked down as he murmured the last part, almost to himself, "I can no longer see him from afar."
Galadriel then sent her mind outward also, startled to remember that she had not noted Gandalf's presence with the group as it entered her wood. In fact, as her beloved had already noted, she too could not sense his presence at all, as if he no longer walked Middle Earth. It was only after noting this that the company's almost palpable sadness at this topic caught her attention, and drew her searching gaze to the 'young' son of Thranduil. "...Gandalf the Grey did not pass the borders of this land..." she murmured, sadness settling over her features as well, as the information solidified itself in her mind and heartfelt horror took its place in her gaze. "He has fallen into Shadow..."
After a moment's pause the Elf-Prince nodded, "He was taken by both Shadow and Flame... a Balrog of Morgoth..." he murmured, breaking eye contact with the Elven Sorceress and looking down despondently, "For we went needlessly into the net of Moria..."
Galadriel frowned, shaking her head as she forced her face to clear into the calm expression most were used to seeing, before drawing the attention of the sad company back to her once more. "Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life," she pointed out, meeting the searching gazes of the Fellowship unflinchingly, "we do not yet know his full purpose." She did not smile, but she did note that everyone in the room seem to find some measure of comfort in her words. Though the dwarf, the ringbearer, and the man of Gondor seemed to be mostly unaffected in their sadness. Sending her mind out to skim the dwarf's surface thoughts she shook her head, "Do not let the great emptiness of Khazad-dûm fill your heart, Gimli son of Glóin," she told him, while offering a compassionate smile at his loss, "For the world has become full of peril. And in all lands love must now mingle with grief." She then turned her gaze to the eldest son of Gondor's steward, holding it as she skimmed his mind for any sign of the Ring's corruptive power, her eyes cold as she found it in the fears the kind-hearted man felt in regards to his country, kinsmen, people and family. She nonetheless forced her way through it, and offered silently, 'Even now there is Hope, Boromir of Gondor... if you can only bring yourself to see it...' With that she withdrew, to offer the Fellowship more consolation, before focusing on the Ringbearer. "Do not let your hearts be troubled. You will now be led to guest quarters, where you can rest. Food shall be made available, but I advice you to get as much sleep as you can, for you are weary with sorrow, and much toil. Tonight, you will sleep with us..." 'Welcome, Frodo of the Shire...one who has seen the Eye...'
Celeborn then gestured to the guardsmen, meeting the Marchwarden's eyes once more. "They are our guests, see to it that they are comfortable."
Haldir nodded, before leading the way out of the telain, keeping his eyes on the assorted group of individuals that they had now become keepers to...
Galadriel watched them go, before turning to make her way to her foster-son's bedroom. She would spend the afternoon caring for Elerossë, and then perhaps take supper with their wizarding guests once more. But tonight she would have to test the Ringbearer... the quest now stood upon the edge of a knife, so they could not be allowed to stray from their path... Perhaps she should be kinder to him, but these were not kind times. And they all had so much to lose...
Dol Guldur
"I am...disappointed in you, Dolohov," Voldemort murmured, his quiet voice echoing around the chamber that he had claimed for a throne room to receive his followers in. "Our ally offers us so simple a task, and you see fit to fail in fulfilling it?"
The younger wizard that was kneeling before him trembled ever so slightly, in fear as he fervently offered, "I am sorry, Master... We--"
"Sorry? Oh, and I suppose that makes it all better then?" the Heir of Slytherin sneered, shaking his head. "No, Dolohov. You had your chance. And I don't have time for fools."
Dolohov shot up from his position on the floor his eyes wide, "Master--!"
"Avada Kedavra."
The failure was only halfway up from the ground when the waive of lethal lime light washed over him.
Voldemort sneered again; glancing over towards the lower ranking Death Eaters that stood guard by the door, "Dispose of that."
As his lower ranking minions moved to do his bidding he turned his eyes back towards his elite. He hadn't thought Dolohov really deserved a place amongst them, so he wasn't too disappointed to find out that he'd been right.
"You have a question, Lucius?" he inquired, sensing the regal inner circle member's cautious curiosity.
After a moment the pureblood icon nodded, stepping forward slightly with a bow before replying. "Yes, Master... I was wondering how we might fix this?" "Yes, how indeed?" Voldemort nodded, not really paying attention as he waived the man to continue. "We could, perhaps, trace the portkey and continue our search from there? Hunt them down?"
"No." The Wizarding Dark Lord shook his head, "I know where they are. Or, rather, Sauron does. And the wards of the Forest of Lothlórien are apparently a work of art...We wouldn't stand a chance of reaching them... No, we shall have to wait on that account... And perhaps move up our other plans. How are the improvements on our ally's armaments and army coming?"
"Quite well, my lord." Malfoy replied, bowing again, though not as deeply, "I'm afraid not much can be done for the soldiers intelligence, but we have been able to provide them with better blades, and the various imprints we have been laying in their minds for strategy and the like should keep them under some semblance of order in battle."
"Good...you may continue working with that project." Voldemort nodded, rising from his throne regally and making his way to one of the side doors. "You are dismissed. All of you."
As his Death Eaters shuffled out through the main entranceway, he made his way into the small room to the right of his throne. The room was almost entirely empty, boasting nothing but what appeared to be a large, black crystal ball, which happened to be glowing red. That red solidified into a red eye, making it an almost identical match to the stone that Saruman kept in Isengard, and the Steward of Gondor kept in his tower...
Halls of Mandos
Life…
He could feel it again, both within him and around him…
Change…
He felt that too. He was different. Everything was different…
Warmth…
That was one of the changes. It had been cold before, in Moria. And then hot, when the Balrog came.
He wasn't mortal, but he wasn't completely immune to nature's whims, and the young Pippin had certainly complained enough to make him aware of the mine's bitter temperatures…
Nevertheless, he wasn't cold anymore. And he wasn't hot.
The air that caressed his cheek had lost some of its edge to the warmth that was radiating from something not too far away. That was all it held, however... other than that it was totally and completely empty...
Natural fire, he realized. That's what it was. Somehow, a good-sized campfire was crackling away merrily in the empty environment. And something was being cooked on it. What it was, he didn't know, but he could smell it… some type of Elvish brew, if he had to guess.
"Mae govannen, Mithrandir," a cultured, harmonious voice offered softly, confirming one of his insights.
It was the voice of an elf, to be sure. Foreign tongues simply couldn't do their wondrous language the same justice its native speakers could. Though truthfully he hadn't even considered that his companion might be an elleth, or even female.
He could sense her now too. She was the only living being nearby. She was young, as elves went, but experienced, the type of semi-wise Elven lady he wouldn't be surprised to happen upon in an Elven community. But the same couldn't be said for encountering her while on the Quest to destroy the One Ring of Power...
There was something off about her too. Something that just wasn't quite right. Her aura was that of a warrior, one who was recovering from grim injury, but it was also still the aura of a gentle lady… one of significant magical power… A sorceress? Far too young to be Galadriel of course, but perhaps an apprentice? But she had not taken one in centuries, not since her last, and only, as far as he knew, had departed from Middle Earth…
"Would you care for some miruvor?" His companion inquired politely in the common tongue, apparently not the least bit perturbed by his continuing silence.
After a moments consideration he sighed as he forced his eye lids open, for they had been closed in death, and pushed himself into a sitting position, watching as a thick woolen blanket that had been covering him fell away, exposing much of his upper half to the chilled air. He quickly drew the white robe on his shoulders shut, before turning his attention to the elleth beside the fire.
She was lovely, to be sure, perhaps even one of the few that might be compared to the Evenstar. With unblemished, radiant skin, full lips forming a gentle smile, long, dark hair and dark...violet eyes.
The Istari blinked, "Lady Ránëwén?" he murmured, surprise coloring his tone as he stared at the Lady of Lothlórien's former apprentice, and daughter-in-law, if he recalled correctly.
The elleth offered a brighter smile with her nod, "Greeting, linyenwa mellon nin."
End Chapter 19.
Translations:
The Telperion - The last flower of the Silver Tree of the Valar, placed by Varda, Queen of the Valar and the Stars in a silver vessel to become the Moon.
Tilion of the Silver Bow - A Maia who once He once served Oromë the Huntsman. However, after Varda created the moon, he was chosen to be both its guardian and its guarding spirit. "Ever since the rising of the Moon, he has labored each night to carry the silver vessel and flower through the heavens."
Mae govannen - "Well-met"/Welcome
Protego - to defend (shielding charm)
Solido - to make firm/solid
Colloportus - Seals a door, making an odd squelching noise. colligo - to bind together portus - door
Mussitare - to keep quiet about a thing
Portus - door (traditional portkey charm)
Hannon le - Thank you
Amil-nin - My mother
Melda nin - My love/Beloved
Laa - No/Of course not
I Haryon - The Prince
Uma - Yes
Dan - But
Tornnin - My brother
Miruvor - "The reviving cordial of the Elves, a liquor with the power to grant renewed vigor and strength. Miruvor was clear and colorless, with a pleasant fragrance. Gandalf carried a flask of it with him to help the Company of the Ring on their southward journey. Both the Dúnedain and the Orcs possessed drinks with similar properties, but miruvor was known to be the most potent of these cordials." The Encyclopedia of Arda http/ http/ Linyenwa mellon nin - My old friend Response to Reviews: Are no longer allowed on So if you would like a response please leave a signed review or an email address. OR Review on the mailing list.
AN: Hi everyone! Sorry for the ATROCIOUSLY LONG wait! I hope you enjoyed it, and hopefully I'll be able to get the next chapter out soon...
Believe or not, constructive and/or useful feedback really does help. I like receiving compliments and congratulations as much as the next person, but suggestions, constructive criticism, potential random tangents to make the story more interesting (which I need to keep me interested), etc., are ultimately more helpful when it comes to the fics construction and production... If you can't think of anything for the future, then by all means, just tell me what you liked and what you didn't, and basically remind me that there are people waiting for updates. That can be helpful too... Anyway, I hope everyone had a GREAT year (since according to I haven't updated in over a year...although I don't think it's been that long), and hopefully I'll be updating again soon.
Those of you that are on the mailing list already saw this chapter...over a month ago, I believe...this was the revised and editted version, but still mostly the same thing. I might be able to get the next chapter out soon, or I might not. But I will be trying.
Bye (for now?)!
Jess S