The Veil

Summary: Bellatrix Lestrange makes a realization during the final battle of Hogwarts: Voldemort doesn't love her and never will. All her endeavors were futile. She has a panic attack and falls through the same Veil that took her cousin, naught two years ago, at her hands no less. But what is behind the Veil? The Land of the Dead as many Wizards and Unspeakables suspect? Once you go in you never come out. Or a whole other world? …Middle Earth perhaps?
Categories:romance, horror, adventure, comfort
Characters: Legolas, Aragorn, OOC Bellatrix, Male/Male/Female, Threesome
Genres: crossover
Warnings:darkfic, murder, torture, sexually graphic scenes, rated M for a reason
Author's note: I love thecharacter of Bellatrix, and she doesn't seem to have enough crossover fics including her. So, I thought I'd do her some justice. Hopefully I'll succeed.
Chapters:2 of many

oOo

Bellatrix was drifting through the inky blackness of space; the stars becoming silky spider webs as she spun round and round. She felt bile enter the back of her throat, but was too disoriented to let it loose. The feeling was close to what it felt like to apparate, but this time it was not by her own doing. This time it felt forced, like a sheet was wrapped around her skin, making her do things she was unprepared for, pulling her this way and that.

She supposed that this was what Imperio must feel like.

There were voices in the back of her mind now, the same chime-like notes that echoed to her from the veil.

Athrathach i iant dhínen dû,

It sounded like some sort of ancient spell.

A lastathach i lalaith i laiss.

Like something that the olden wizards and witches would recite.

I thloss en-gwaew glîr ben-lû,

But how could she know? She never payed any attention in Ancient Runes.

Nuin giliath telithach nan felais-in-elei 'lyss…

Then they faded.

It felt like quite sometime before Bellatrix felt a different force on her body. This force was also familiar: gravity.

She felt her limbs get heavy, and the stars beyond became lidded with the darkness of nothing. Where was she going? That stupid curtain had taken her someplace strange… Her arms had started to get feeling back, and she gripped her wand tightly. For the first time she couldn't think of a spell to get out of the situation. And odd white flash lit up the end of her wand, a signal that something was clearly wrong.

BOOM.

She felt the force of air against her back, and suddenly she could breathe, having not noticed she could not do so before. She gulped too hard in panic, and started to choke on her held back bile and the harsh air. Her eyes were drying quickly, and she spit up a bitter liquid. She felt herself falling faster, and her mind raced in formulated escape routes.

Apparate… Bella, you dolt, APPARATE!

But her body didn't listen to her mind, and while she closed her eyes tight, she crashed into a dense bed of trees, the leaves and tight branches hitting her repeatedly to the point where she couldn't decide if it hurt or not. And then, right when she knew she would meet the ground, she stopped.

Confused, Bellatrix open her eyes. Ever so slightly at first, and then, at the sight of the still scenery around her, opened them fully. She was lying gently on the ground, in between the protruding roots of a large tree, like she had lie down to rest there herself and not fallen from the sky. She knew where she was.

The Dark Forest.

The Veil had dumped her in the Dark Forest?

She looked around. Naught minutes ago were her fellow Death Eaters crawling all over doing their masters wishes. Killing and maiming all whom got in their way. Not long ago was she there with them, cursing and torturing innocents. Torturing had been her favorite thing, she loved to hear her victims helpless squealing... But where were they now? Had they taken the Castle? But she could have swore she saw—

That's right. She saw it. She saw Voldemort fall. The crumpled black sheet on the floor at Harry Potter's feet had been the broken body of her master. He had no horcruxes left. Nagini killed, diadem destroyed, Potter returning from the dead. He had no way of regeneration now. No way of coming back.

He's gone. He's really… gone.

All the bile she was fruitfully holding back promptly emptied itself out onto her boots, but she couldn't care any less. In fact, she enjoyed it. She had purchased those boots in lieu of her Lord, to impress him with her looks, and now that she was free of his rule, she was her own person.

I am free... I am free- I am free!

Bellatrix lowered her head to the ground spat on it. She blinked a few times, wondering why she did so, but shook the thoughts from her head.

She had no one to answer to now. She didn't have to explain her actions. No one needed to know why she had spat. She had her own will now. She could spit where ever she damned willed to. She fucking did it because she had wanted to—

"Would you like to enlighten an old wizard as to why you find it perfectly acceptable to defile an innocent forest?"

Startled by the deep masculine voice, Bellatrix whipped around and out of reflex, shot a stunning spell at the figure behind her. It hit an invisible force field and was sent bounding into the forest.

"But I'll be the first to admit that this place isn't entirely innocent." The man leaked out in a peal of chuckles.

Bellatrix was shocked. Standing a few feet in front of her was Dumbledore.

He was cloaked completely in white, from his hair, to his beard, to the shoes peaking out from under his white cloak.

But how?

Snape had killed him! She had seen it! She had!

Could she not trust her own eyes any longer?

Was Voldemort's fall another joke her eyes had played on her?

The old codger held a white staff, a wand of some sort, and leaned on it like he actually relied on it for support. Bellatrix noticed that he wasn't wearing his glasses. She had never seen him without them… had his nose always been that large?

"Dumbledore? But you were killed! You fell off of that tower. Snape killed… I don't… HE KILLED YOU!" She screamed at him, her voice becoming louder and shriller as she became more and more uncertain.

"My dear, you know of the demon Balrog?" He gave her a questioning look, his eyes glistening with the low light streaming through the tree tops, a little smile on his lips. "He put up quite the admirable fight, but I smote him and lay his ruin upon the deepest reaches of the earth. But you, maid, should not know of such things. How have you acquired knowledge of my apparent fall?"

"Your apparent-" She didn't know what to say. Her tongue stuck to the dry roof of her mouth, and she unstuck it and used it to dryly lick her thin lips. They were cracked and rough.

Balrog?

This was definitely not the Dumbledore she knew of. Just what exactly was going on here?

"Dumbledore, you old coot! Don't tell me that that tumble from the tower doesn't jog your memory?" There, maybe she could remind him.

"My girl, where do you hail from?" He leaned away from his staff and took a few steps forward. Bellatrix assumed it was a sort of comforting gesture, but she wasn't too good at recognizing them, so she mirrored him, taking a few steps forward making sure she was still armed. A crazy witch she was, but she was no idiot. "Somewhere in Rohan I'd assume. Snowbourne, perhaps? The Westfold? Surely Edoras is—"

"Shut up! You know who I am! Dumbledore! Don't play dumb! I can see throu—"

"But my dear, if I knew your identity, wouldn't it be foolish of me to ask?" he smiled and cleared his gruff voice, "Besides, I do not know of this Dumble person you so fondly speak of."

Bellatrix once again remained silent. Something clearly was not right.

"I go by many names. Some call me Mithrandir, to people of your kinship I am the Greyhame. I prefer Gandalf, and I suppose I am Gandalf the White now. How… fitting." He smiled again.

Some Dumbledore character he was.

"May I enquire as to what you are called? If I may be so bold as to ask such a fiery character."

He pointed with his palm toward her, and as if expecting a wand to be in his hand, she made a fake duck. Realizing her foolishness, but still not trusting him, she stood back up straight.

"I can see we are getting no where here in this conversation with you, you cooked old hat. I am Bellatrix Lest—"she cleared her throat, "Bellatrix Black. And I do not come from Rohame; hideous name for a place really."

"But if not Rohan, from where do you hail? With your dark hair I would categorize you as a lady of Gondor, but of course you would have an entourage traveling with you, a lady. Tell me, where are your men? Where are your horses?"

"Men?" Her voiced cracked without her permission, "Men! I do not need men! My skills far surpass those of any average wizard. I do not need—"

"You have no guard? A woman of your stature?" He reached into the folds of his cloak and pulled out a wooden pipe. "Wizards?" He lit the pipe with just a look and harrumphed, "You mean you have power?"

He blew out a smoke ring into her direction.

Bellatrix was peeved he wasn't taking her in as a dangerous threat.

She bent over slightly, "Yes, I am a witch. A PUREBLOOD witch." She held up her wand. "Are you some sort of idiot? I could torture you right now on the spot if I chose to!"

He threw his head back in laughter.

"Oh, my dear! Maid, if you had half the mind to do any of the sort, you would have done so long ago." He took a long drag of his pipe and nodded.

She started with a deep anger, "Foolish man, you underestimate—"

Gandalf turned from her, and beckoned her with the staff holding arm.

"Ah! Come now Bellatrix, we have much to discuss and such little time to discuss it. Hurry now, the day has become late. I merely stumbled upon you on my way to meet someone." He blew his arid smoke behind him as he walked.

Bellatrix was surprised by the sudden change of events, and started to follow him from a gut feeling she could not identify. He was intriguing to her, something she did not experience often, and she felt invigorated by it.

She trailed behind him, wondering if they were going to the castle. Maybe then she could see how the battle of Hogwarts went. This Dumbledore seemed very adamant about getting something done, but she did not trust him. She would be foolish to. She wondered what she would do when she got to the castle. What would they do?

Would she be sent back to Azkaban? Would she receive the Dementor's Kiss?

Even though she did not know what happened to her, she wasn't going to let down her guard because of him.

She stuck her wand down her sleeve. It couldn't hurt to be prepared.

"I am afraid my dear, you have found yourself in quite the dilemma. Come, and we will see what to make of you."

She followed him through the bent and gnarled maze of trees.

oOo

"Athrathach i iant dhínen dû, A lastathach i lalaith i laiss. I thloss en-gwaew glîr ben-lû, Nuin giliath telithach nan felais-in-elei 'lyss. " - You will cross the night's silent bridge, And hear the laughter of leaves. The wind's whisper is a timeless song, Beneath the stars are the white shores of dreams.

Any opinions on what you think would be great! Thanks for reading.