Catalyst
Summary: In which Harry, Hermione, and Ron get sucked into Middle Earth by way of a defunct portkey on their way to the Quidditch World Cup. Set in the beginning of GoF/The Hobbit.
Author's note: I must announce; I do not own The Hobbit, Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter.
So I may have been wrong about Aragorn's age, however I think I'll leave the last chapter as is. I want to thank everyone who reviewed and provided constructive criticism. I hadn't realized I used the word medic instead of healer in chapter one. That was a bit of military jargon slipping through. I'll try to keep that in check from here on out.
Chapter Four
The cave they had found to spend the night had happened to have been a poor choice. Its floor had been on hinges of all things, dumping them into their current predicament half way through the evening. Right into the lap of a goblin horde.
The goblins of Middle-Earth were at least two heads taller than the ones Harry was used to interacting with at Gringotts, and a lot uglier. They had round heads and long ears. Wide slatted eyes set far too close, with flat slits for nostrils making them appear more snake-like than human. Their stooped posture made them all the more menacing. Harry felt naked without his sword, and he glanced wildly around for any sort of escape route from the dark caves as they were herded at spear point.
Rickety wooden bridges and support beams littered the caverns, ramshackle holes served as home for the creatures; thousands of goblins leered and screeched as they passed, Brentan pulled Hermione to stand in the midst of the men folk as they were brought before the largest goblin yet. "Stay by me." He ordered gruffly, eyes calmly assessing the creatures around them. Harry and Ron crowded closer to their guardian, eyes narrowed, anticipating the worst.
Just as wide as he was tall, the goblin wore a crown of bone and twine, too small for his head. His body was covered in boils and sores, and his chin wobbled down to his chest. He stood to loom over his group of captives, making the platform creak, as their weapons were dumped before him.
Harry tucked his hand in his sleeve, carefully palming his wand, noting that his friends seemed to be of the same mind. Hermione gently tapped his elbow in a silent request for room to maneuver if needed, and Ron casually tipped his chin up. Harry shuffled forward a step or two, as the Goblin King snarled.
"Who would be so bold as to come into my kingdom armed?!" He peered about at them with a bulbous eye, "Spies? Thieves? Assassins?" Harry tore his eyes from the goblin to cast a critical eye at the Company, frowning when he didn't see Bilbo's head of curls amongst them.
"Dwarves, your Malevolence." A stooped goblin replied.
"Where's Bilbo?" Harry inquired of Hermione and Ron softly, he saw Kili's head swivel about looking for the Hobbit.
"Dwarves?" The goblin King inquired turning his critical eye on his assistant.
"We found them on the front porch." The goblin clarified, voice high and nasally with excitement. If the circumstances weren't so dire, Harry would have found the statement laughable.
The goblin King sneered at them again, "Well don't just stand there! Search them! Every crack! Every crevice!" Goblins advanced from every side, Harry tightened his grip on his wand as a Goblin lunged at him from the side; only to stagger backwards, fingers merely brushing his sleeve, a dazed expression on its face. Harry blinked looking to the few goblins around Hermione and Ron only to find them in a similar state.
Hermione's expression was smug as they tottered away from them. The rest of the goblins began withdrawing from the dwarves, their belongings scattered about the dais and Harry cringed as he spotted Oin's hearing horn crushed in front of the elderly dwarf.
"What are you doing in these parts?!" The goblin King snarled, voice echoing off of the cave walls ominously, chins wobbling. "SPEAK!"
His only response was glowering silence from the collective party, Harry shifted his stance slightly, well aware of the eager grins of the surrounding goblins.
The goblin King grinned nastily, his yellow teeth emphasized in the torchlight. "Well then, if they won't talk, we'll make them squawk! Bring out the Mangler, bring out the Bone Breaker! Start with the girl!" He levelled a knobby index finger at Hermione. Her expression darkened as goblins surged forward, hands outstretched to grab her. Brentan snarled, pulling her closer to himself in an attempt to protect her. Harry moved to draw his wand.
"Wait!" Harry's attention snapped to Thorin as he stepped forward, cautiously tucking his wand away yet again. All activity ceased and Hermione sagged against Brentan in relief, Ron stood protectively in front of her, jaw tense and eyes burning.
The goblin King smirked, "Well, well, well, look who it is. Thorin son of Thrain, son of Thror; King under the Mountain." The massive creature bowed theatrically crown wobbling precariously on his head. "Oh, but I forgot, you don't have a mountain. And you're not a king. Which makes you nobody really." Harry was sure Thorin was leveling his very best broody scowl at the goblin, "I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head. Just the head, nothing attached. Perhaps you know of whom I speak, an old enemy of yours. A pale Orc astride a White Warg."
Thorin jerked in surprise, "Azog the Defiler was destroyed. He was slain in battle long ago."
The goblin laughed uproariously, joined by his subjects as he waved to a goblin perched in a basket with a roughly cut slate. "Send word to the Pale Orc; tell him I have found his prize." The goblin hastily scribbles down his message and, cackling, began to pull a lever moving his basket along a system of pulleys and out of sight.
Dozens of goblins surged from the depths, carrying massive instruments of torture on their shoulders, the Goblin King began to dance about, the platform buckling and shaking beneath his weight as he began to sing like an excited child. "Bones will be shattered, necks will be wrung! You'll be beaten and battered; from racks you'll be hung. You will lie down here and never be found, down in the deep of Goblin-town."
Goblins rifled through their belongings greedily pushing at each other as they scavenged. The Goblin's man servant snatched up Thorin's sword, hobbling towards the Goblin King. He excitedly slid the sword from its sheath before shrieking, slinging the blade to the ground where it clattered from its sheath fully. Goblins scattered, hissing, the Goblin King reared backwards in horror. "I know that sword! It's the Goblin-cleaver, the Biter, the blade that diced a thousand necks!"
The goblins turned on the dwarves angrily, lashing out with ropes chains and some even coming close and snapping like dogs. Harry stumbled into Ron in an attempt to stay out of reach of a particularly determined goblin that had fixed its slatted golden gaze on him, drool dribbling down its chin.
"Slash them! Beat them! Kill them! Kill them all! Cut off his head!" The goblins managed to get a hold of Thorin, pushing him to the ground and a wave surging between the dwarven king and his company.
A massive explosion of bright light halted the proceedings, a shockwave ripped through the caverns flinging goblins into the air and over the edge of the wooden dais and into the abyss below. The company and the great goblin were thrown to the floor.
Harry's ears were ringing as he clambered to his feet quickly, the others following a bit more sluggishly. "Take up arms!" A booming voice cut through the ringing silence that shrouded Harry's ears, the noises around him coming back into sharp focus as if water had been drained from his ears. "Fight!" Gandalf's voice washed over the company and they all lunged for their weapons, falling back on the grey wizard.
They dashed after him as he led them across rickety bridges, slashing the anchoring ropes after they had crossed safely and sending the pursuing goblins plummeting to their deaths.
Another mad dash across yet another rickety bridge. A looming figure dropped down on the connecting platform, Making it shake and wobble precariously, the fleeing company stopped short.
"Thought you could escape from me?! The Goblin King?!" His neck fat wobbled in his anger as he squared up to Gandalf, The old wizard adjusted his grip on his sword. "There is nothing that you can do to fell me wizard!"
Gandalf slashed his sword across the Goblin's abdomen, neatly disemboweling the large creature.
"That'll do it." The Goblin king dazedly commented before he fell bringing the platform, the bridge and the company down with him.
The daylight blinded Harry when they finally reached an exit, making a mad dash down the hillside away from the tunnels. Brentan herded them off towards the dwarven company a few feet below, running stock of them.
"Are you alright? Anyone injured?" he inquired, sounding breathless the three teens shook their heads wearily taking the opportunity to properly strap their weapons to themselves.
"Five, six, seven, eight. Bifur, Bofur, that's ten. Fili, Kili, that's twelve. And Bombur, that makes thirteen." Gandalf counted off sheathing his sword absent mindedly, before he twisted around scanning the crowd of panting dwarves, "Where's our burglar, where's Bilbo?" He inquired, seeming more frantic, "Where is our hobbit?"
Gloin twisted about, a frown on his face, "Curse that Halfling! Now he's lost! I thought he was with Dori!"
Dori Turned to the redheaded dwarf, mouth agape in disbelief, "Don't blame me!"
Hermione scowled thunderously, "Curse him? How about we find him!"
"Where did you last see him?" Gandalf inquired searching the faces around him. Harry felt a knot form in his stomach and exchanged a worried glance with Ron.
Bofur stepped forward helpfully, "I think I saw him slip away when they first collared us."
Taking two large steps Gandalf leaned down into the dwarf's space, expression urgent, "What happened exactly? Tell me!"
Thorin scowled, shouldering past his comrades, "I'll tell you what happened." His voice was heavy with scorn and Harry found it hard not to feel a spark of anger towards the dwarven king. "Master Baggins saw his chance and he took it! He's thought of nothing but his soft bed and his warm hearth since first he stepped out of his door. We will not be seeing our hobbit again, he is long gone."
Harry was on the verge of opening his mouth to defend his friend when Bilbo's voice piped up from behind Gandalf. "No, he isn't."
"Bilbo!" Harry cried out in relief, His sentiment echoed by Hermione and Ron called out a relieved sounding "Thought we lost you, mate." He bobbed his curly head in greeting and stuck his thumbs through his suspenders, rocking self-consciously on his furry feet.
Gandalf sagged in relief upon the sight of the hobbit. "Bilbo Baggins. I've never been so glad to see anyone in my life."
Kili rushed forward in a mixture of excitement and relief, followed closely by his brother. "Bilbo, we'd given you up!"
Fili eyed the small creature with curiosity, "How on earth did you get past the goblins?"
"How indeed?" Dwalin inquired, showing more suspicion than relief at the Hobbit's safe escape.
Bilbo chuckled nervously, tucking his hands into his pockets and rocking onto his toes again at all the attention.
Hermione scoffed at the dwarves, moving to give the hobbit a hug, "What does it matter?! He's back; we can get out of here."
Thorin leveled his scowl at her, "It matters. I want to know." He pinned Bilbo with a heavy gaze, as Hermione released him from her hug, "Why did you come back?" his voice had softened a touch at the question, genuine curiosity shining through.
Bilbo paused, looking around at each face before plucking up the courage to speak, "Look, I know you doubt me. I know...I know you always have. And you're right, I often think of Bag End. I miss my books, and my arm chair, and my garden. See, that's where I belong." He paused, looking thoughtful. "That's home. And that's why I came back, cause...you don't have one. A home. It was taken from you, but I will help you take it back if I can."
A howl broke into the end of his sentence, and the company looked up to see a pack of wargs scrambling down the mountainside towards them. "Into the trees! Quickly!" Gandalf cried, motioning downhill with his staff and the company complied.
Harry darted around the trees as quickly and carefully as he could, the sounds of wargs bearing down on them eerily familiar and he tumbled over a root, his face smacking painfully on the ground. He scrambled up, a hand fisted in his tunic pulling him along and he plucked his now cracked glasses from the ground and stuffed them onto his nose. He shot a quick "thanks" to Ron as they continued to flee.
Bursting through the tree line, they skid to a stop. The clearing was small; a few tall sparse trees grew near a cliffs edge. They were cornered. Harry cussed softly; hand on the hilt of his sword, something warm ran down his chin and his tongue flicked out, tasting copper. He wiped at it with a sleeve absently.
"Into the trees!" Gandalf called out, and Harry lurched towards one, and threw himself into it. Finding a high enough perch, breathing hard. Hermione, Ron and Bilbo had followed him into the tree, he noted as the warg pack emerged at a leisurely pace from the tree line.
"Arm yourselves," Hermione called as she unslung her bow and notched an arrow in one smooth motion; Ron's hand steadying her as she straddled the branch of the tree. The arrow flew and Harry drew his wand in grim determination.
Kili drew his own bow from the tree next door, quickly joining Hermione in eliminating enemies as they lunged forward, the duo picking off the riders with deadly accuracy. The rest of the dwarves began throwing their flaming pinecones. Harry's stunners dropping a few wargs, and missing just as many.
"I'm useless with my glasses cracked like this!" Harry snarled as he missed a warg by a hair, instead sending a spray of dirt up into the air.
A wall of fire ignited between the wargs and the company, making their enemies pause momentarily in their onslaught. A warg howled, and the defiler snarled something to his comrades, and suddenly they were surging over the flames.
"Occulus Repairo, Harry!" Hermione snapped, though not unkindly, as she let an arrow fly; fingers meeting air when she reached for another. "I'm out!" She cried, slinging her bow cross body and drawing her wand.
Harry cursed, muttering the spell and tapping his glasses, blinking as they mended instantly.
Slinging his own bow, Kili swore loudly "I'm out too." The dwarf scowled, the expression eerily reminiscent of his uncle.
"Can't we just 'accio' the arrows back? REPULSO!" Ron inquired, jabbing his wand towards a Warg as it leapt towards the trees they were sitting in, sending the snarling beast flying backwards. It landed with a sickening crack and didn't move to rise.
"Sure!" Hermione answered with a hint of hysteria to her voice as she flicked her wand at an oncoming orc wielding an axe "BOMBARDA!" a spray of dirt and a high pitched howl of pain as a warg was tossed backwards "If you fancy yourself becoming a human pin cushion that would be an excellent idea!"
Ron glowered as he hissed out a 'repulso' at an orc that was charging one of the other trees axe raised, "Well sorry for trying to bloody help!"
A new wave of wargs jumped the wall of flames, the white orc amongst them, throwing themselves against the trees, causing them to shudder and tilt. The first tree fell, hanging precariously over the edge of the cliff, their dwarven companions and Brentan with it.
"Brentan!" Harry called out, receiving no answer but the cries of panic as the dwarves clung to the tree, clung to life; he clenched his wand between his teeth and began to climb down.
"Harry! Are you mad?!" Hermione screeched. Harry swung down another branch, hissing as a warg snapped at his ankle, only just missing him.
The warg circled wide, raring to run at the tree again, it's eyes wild in the firelight. Harry snatched the wand from his mouth, "Only a little! Bombarda!" flicking his wand in a parody of what Hermione had just done, Harry watched fascinated as the ground beneath the creature exploded, violently sending the animal howling backwards. He dropped the remaining few feet and sprinted to the fallen tree.
Hermione clung to Ron as another warg rammed into their tree, making it shudder and creak to the side a little more. "I refuse to die like this. I refuse to die here!" he she cried out loud, tears of frustration pricking her eyes.
He sprinted past Thorin, the dwarf only had eyes for the Pale Orc. Sliding across the dirt to the edge of the cliff, glasses askew as he stared at the chain of dwarves hanging desperately from a tree limb, Brentan hanging at its very end.
"Hang on!" Harry called down, unsure of how he was supposed to help them up, mind whirling through his limited list of spells and he cursed. Most of them defensive or offensive in nature. He peered back over the edge as Brentan's fingers slipped from Bombur's grasp. "NO!"
Mist swirled chaotically around where Brentan had fallen. He dangled an arm over the ledge, fingers curling back towards his palm. He had failed.
"Help!" Ori called out, grip slipping under the Weight of the dwarves clutching onto him. Gandalf managed to extend his staff in time to catch him from dropping into the abyss below.
A gust of wind made him squint, withdrawing away from the edge. A massive eagle rose from below, Brentan clinging to its back for dear life.
"Thorin!" Dwalin cried out and Harry turned to look. Thorin was clamped in the jaws of the white warg as it shook him, reminding Harry of one of Aunt Marge's dogs with a stuffed toy. "No!" the warg tossed Thorin to the ground, he did not get up.
The white orc sneered, "Biriz torag khobdudol." A warg rider swung off of his mount, striding menacingly towards Thorin, Harry watched horrified as the creature raised its sword, snarl twisting its already gruesome countenance. Harry's mind went blank. If he threw a spell at the orc he would surely hit Thorin as well.
As the orc readied himself to take Thorin's head, Bilbo threw himself forward, knocking the orc to the ground. They struggled for a moment before Bilbo managed to plunge his glowing blue blade into the orc's chest. He pulled his sword from the body of the creature, standing shakily in front of Thorin's prone form.
More wargs advanced on the Hobbit and Harry sprung from the ground, wand extended in front of him. "Expulso!" A warg flew sideways away from the hobbit, Dwalin Fili and Kili surged past him with fearsome battle cries crashing into the remaining beasts.
A warg sans a rider charged at Harry, drool bubbling from its mouth, He opened his mouth another spell on his lips when an eagle, larger than an acromantula, swooped down and plucked the warg from the ground, lazily flinging it over the cliff. The large birds swarmed the cliff top, fanning the flames with their wings, knocking down trees.
The air rushed from Harry's lungs as an immense set of talons closed around him, wind whistled in his ears and he clung to the eagle, watching as more of the creatures swooped down picking up the rest of the company.
He caught sight of Hermione and Ron being plucked from their perches in the tree and he closed his eyes to relish the feeling of flying. He missed flying, missed quidditch, missed Hogwarts, missed home. Pressure built in his ears as the eagle swooped down, wings' flapping as it slowed gently dropping him at the top of a plateau.
He exhaled in a whoosh at the sight of Thorin laying unmoving in the center of the plateau. Gandalf hovered nearby, a worried frown creasing his face and making him look older.
"Thorin." He had never been particularly fond of the brusque dwarven king, especially his scornful attitude towards Bilbo. He scooted closer to the dwarf, noting that he was still breathing, and didn't seem to be bleeding too badly. Other members of the company began staggering onto the plateau, the Eagles swooping lazily away.
Bilbo rushed to the dwarven king's side as Gandalf knelt down, placing a hand over Thorin's face with a whispered spell.
Thorin's eyes fluttered open, gasping for air as if he were drowning. "The Halfling?" He inquired weakly, gripping Gandalf's hand.
The wizard smiled, relief flooding him. "It's alright. Bilbo is here. He's quite safe." The other dwarves surrounded Thorin with smiles and mutterings of relief and Harry backed away to join Hermione and Ron by Brentan, looking up at the windswept ranger with relief. Earning him a rakish grin in return.
Dwalin and Kili manage to get Thorin onto his feet and he gruffly shrugged them off striding up to Bilbo, an unreadable expression on his face. "You." His voice was rough, "What were you doing?" he snarled, advancing on Bilbo as the hobbit nervously wrung his hands stepping backwards "You nearly got yourself killed! Did I not say that you would be a burden? That you would not survive in the wild and that you had no place amongst us?"
He drew closer to Bilbo, his nose scant inches from the other man's. Bilbo bit his lip, hurt in his eyes. Thorin clasped his arms around him suddenly, "I've never been so wrong in all my life!"
Hermione let out a gush of breath, a shaky smile broke across her face. She glanced tearily at Ron, letting her fingers tangle with his as they watched the rest of the company clap the two on the back, grinning happily.
Harry squatted next to the wall of a rock formation, head drooping wearily towards his knees, eye's begging for some sleep. Rest that had been denied the company for the last few days. He turned his eyes on his companions. Hermione rested her head against Ron's shoulder, their hands once again tangled together. Brentan stood near Harry, pronounced bags under his eyes but looking far more awake than most.
Bilbo slid down the hillside towards them, expression grave. Harry stood rubbing his back with a grimace.
"How close is the pack?" Dwalin rushed forward first followed closely, by a handful of dwarves and Gandalf.
"Too close," Bilbo mopped the sweat from his brow, a worried expression creasing his face, "A couple of leagues, no more, but that is not the worst of it."
Dwalin gripped Bilbo's shoulders tightly, "Have the wargs picked up your scent?"
Bilbo frowned, "Not yet but they will; we have another problem."
"Did they see you? They saw you!" Gandalf concluded in a panic, turning to scan the wood around them.
Bilbo shook his head, "That's not it."
Gandalf relaxed, turning to the dwarves with a smile that was reminiscent of a proud parent, "What did I tell you? Quiet as a mouse. Excellent burglar material."
Bilbo stared at the dwarves in exasperation. "Will you listen?" they chuckled and jostled each other, not quite hearing the hobbit's quiet protests. "Will you listen? I'm trying to tell you there is something else out there."
Harry shook his head, hair now shaggy and falling into his eyes. The dwarves stopped muttering, looking concerned, Gandalf looked thoughtful, "What form did it take? Like a bear?"
Bilbo looked startled then mildly suspicious, "Yes." He paused, considering the wizard, "But bigger, much bigger."
Bofur rounded on Gandalf, expression aghast, "You knew about this beast?" Gandalf frowned, walking a few steps away. "I say we double back."
Thorin grimaced "And be run down by a pack of orcs? I think not."
Gandalf turned, looking slightly troubled, "There is a house, it's not far from here, where we might take refuge."
Thorin turned to the wizard suspiciously, "Whose house? Are they friend or foe?"
Gandalf turned to walk away, "Neither. He will help us, or he will kill us."
Harry turned to look at Brentan in dismay, "I don't very much like the odds." The Ranger muttered.
"What's one more wanting us dead?" Ron grumbled ignoring Hermione's halfhearted swat at his shoulder. "Besides if he doesn't we can finally get some sleep."
Harry pumped his fist into the air, "Give me sleep or give me death."
Hermione frowned at them, "Stop being so melodramatic. I'm sure everything will be fine."
"What choice do we have?" Thorin inquired rhetorically. A roar split the night and the company exchanged fearful glances.
Gandalf readjusted his grip on his staff, peering into the night dubiously, "None." They ran.
"What was that?" Ori inquired as the company lay panting inside the large house they had just barely managed to get into before being eaten by a large bearlike creature.
Harry stooped with his forehead against the wall, hands holding onto his knees. "I think I'm going to vomit." Brentan chuckled airily and slapped Harry's shoulder in passing as he wandered deeper into the house.
Ron sat near him, flinching away belatedly, swatting at Harry's calf in disgust as the brunette wizard began to cough. "Jesus not near me."
"That," Gandalf panted, leaning heavily on his staff, "Was our host." Everyone turned to give the elderly wizard varying looks of confusion.
"A bear?" Hermione inquired, leaning against the wall on Ron's other side. "Our host is a bear?"
Gandalf smiled at her indulgently, "His name is Beorn, and he's actually a skin changer." Gandalf stood straight having caught his breath, "Sometimes he is a huge black bear; sometimes he's a great strong man."
Ron blinked at the wizard, "Normally I would think that would be wicked, but considering he just tried to eat us…" Hermione rolled her eyes at him sliding down the wall and leaning on his shoulder, eyes drooping.
"The bear is unpredictable, but the man," Gandalf waved a finger in the air to drive his point home "can be reasoned with. Though," he tacked on thoughtfully, "he's not over fond of dwarves."
The dwarves looked amongst themselves in dismay, Ori pulled away from the door with a relieved exclamation of "He's leaving."
Dori started, yanking his youngest family member from the door, a scowl on his face, "Come away from there! It's not natural, none of it. It's obvious he's under some dark spell." He glowered at his companions, ignoring the brooding stare Nori directed his way.
Gandalf frowned, "Don't be a fool; He's under no enchantment but his own. Alright now get some sleep, all of you. You'll be safe here tonight."
Harry stood straight as the rest of the company began spreading out throughout the house. He held out his hands to Ron and Hermione helping hoist the duo to their feet.
The morning shone brightly through the windows waking the trio. They shuffled sorely towards the group of dwarves clustered quietly around a table. Finding seats they watched with trepidation as a tall hairy man stooped through the doorframe.
He calmly poured some milk from a pitcher into a cup in front of Fili. Eyes locked on Thorin's proud form at the head of the table. "So you are the one they call Oakenshield. Tell me, why is Azog the Defiler hunting you?"
Thorin leant forward in surprise, "You know Azog? How?"
Beorn smiled grimly, "My people were the first to live in the mountains, before orcs came down from the north. The Defiler killed most of my family, but some he enslaved." Hermione bristled at that, Ron put a hand over hers to calm her. Harry's eyebrows rose at the gesture and he took a sip from his cup, he eyed the broken manacles around Beorn's wrists one still had a link of chain that dangled from it. He winced.
Beorn continued as if he were talking about the weather, "Not for work you understand, but for sport. Caging skin-changers and torturing them seemed to amuse him."
"There are others like you?" Bilbo piped up curiously.
Beorn gazed at Bilbo for a heavy moment, his gaze seemed far away, "Once there were many."
Hermione took a deep breath, "And now?" she inquired hopefully.
He turned a sad smile to her, "There is one." A heavy silence fell on the table as the Bear like man wrestled with his memories. He seemed to shake himself, "You need to reach the mountain before the last days of autumn?"
"Before Durin's day falls, yes." Gandalf answered gravely.
Beorn hummed, "You are running out of time."
Gandalf nodded, "Which is why we must go through Mirkwood."
Beorn looked troubled by this, "A darkness lies upon that forest, Fell things creep beneath those trees." Harry shared a look with Hermione and Ron noting how it sounded similar to the Forbidden Forest. "There is an alliance between the Orcs of Moria and the Necromancer in Dol Guldur. I would not venture there except in great need." He turned a wary eye into the trio, "Especially with children."
Brentan leant in from the other side of the table, "We will be parting ways at Mirkwood, we will be taking the southern trail to Rhun."
"And we will be taking the Elven road. That path is still safe." Gandalf interjected.
Beorn furrowed his thick brows, "Safe? The Wood-Elves of Mirkwood are not like their kin. They're less wise and more dangerous. But it matters not." He stated, seeming to stand even taller and Harry wondered if he was taller than Hagrid.
Thorin furrowed his own brow at the skin changer, "What do you mean?"
The man smiled grimly at them all, "These lands are crawling with orcs. Their numbers are growing, and you are on foot. You will never reach the forest alive." The dwarves shifted nervously around the table, exchanging wary glances. "I don't like dwarves." The large man ground out angrily. "They're greedy and blind to the lives of those they deem lesser than their own." He paused, picking up a mouse that had scampered across the table towards him, striding towards Thorin. "But Orcs I hate more. You are welcome to rest here and take what you need for your journey."
"Block left"
A yelp, "Liar! That wasn't left!"
"Do you think," The sounds of clashing metal resumed, "That your opponent will dictate his every move to you boy?" A flinch at the word boy, Brentan's eyes narrowed in thought as he parried a wild swing from the young wizard.
"If I end up having trust issues," Harry grit out as their swords clashed and Brentan pushed him backwards a few steps, "I'm blaming you!"
Brentan chuckled, allowing his charge to catch his breath. "If you end up having trust issues young Master Potter, I imagine you'll thank me for it."
Harry huffed a soft "Right." before he continued his assault on Brentan. The ranger parried a few more blows noting the increasingly sloppy nature. With a half smirk crinkling the corners of his eyes, he disarmed his opponent with a careful flick of his sword.
"You're beginning to get sloppy. We'll call the end of this duel." His lips twitched into a half smile at Harry's sigh of relief as the boy carefully sheathed his sword. "You're doing well. You're foot work is much better, now I believe we just need to work on your stamina." Harry nodded, looking pleased by the praise. "Ronald, arm yourself." He called and the red head eagerly complied.
Harry plopped himself down by a large patch of exotic looking flowers, keeping a wary eye on the giant bees that buzzed lazily through the air. Clanging metal soon broke the peaceful calm, and Harry's eyes were drawn to the fluid movements of Brentan and Ron as they danced about each other silently. A small sprig of jealousy rose within him to see Ron moving so well, taking to the sword better than Harry. He squashed the feeling violently.
"You did well." Hermione complimented as she dropped beside him gracelessly, sheen of sweat covering her brow and her finger tips an angry red from practicing archery with Kili across the yard. "You'll catch up soon." She said easily, her belief in her own words warming Harry and chasing away any residual jealousy.
"Thanks." He stated simply. "You're getting really good with the bow." He returned the compliment, eyes still trained on the two men as Brentan threw Ron off balance.
"Thanks." She returned, blush staining her cheeks. Her hands moved up to her braid and she slowly picked it apart letting it tumble freely down her back for the first time since they had begun their journey. "Fili offered to teach me how to throw knives." She offered eyes now focused on the duel in front of her.
"What about a close quarters fight?" Brentan pushed Ron back a few more steps, tapping the red head's shoulder with the broad side of his sword before dancing backwards a few steps.
"I'm sure he'll cover basics of hand to hand." Ron lunged forward brushing the outside of Brentan's leg with the broad side of his own sword.
Harry grunted and fell backwards, letting his fatigued muscles melt into the warm grass. He let the now familiar sounds of metal on metal wash over him and frowned. "Hermione."
She hummed to let him know she was listening.
"What happens if the Blue Wizards can't send us back?"
His question was met with a moment of silence. He allowed his eyes to drift from one cloud to another in the sky, his heart feeling too big for his chest and too small all at once.
"I don't know." She admitted quietly, sounding deeply disturbed by the thought. All the fear, doubt and homesickness Harry had been pushing away seemed to wash back into him all at once.
A thousand questions danced through his mind, each one more upsetting than the last. He kept his mouth firmly closed, turning a discerning glance on Hermione who also looked to be battling her own questions and doubts. "Sorry," He exhaled, nearly choking on the emotions he felt. "I shouldn't have-"
"NO!" Hermione interrupted, looking shocked at her own volume as Brentan and Ron halted in their duel to look over at the two curiously. She sent them both an uneasy smile and held her tongue until they had resumed their sparring session. "No. You should have. We need to prepare for the worst, we need to be ready for when," she cut herself off with a self-depreciating shake of her, now unruly, curls. "If we end up stuck here."
Harry agreed silently with a nod of his head, swallowing around a thick lump that had formed in his throat.
After dinner that evening Harry found himself sitting with his back against the wall, running a whetstone over his blade carefully, a rag sitting on his knee as he worked. Ron had promised to join him after he had tried some of Bilbo's pipe weed and Hermione had trailed after him hissing about the negative effect tobacco had on the human body.
Harry startled out of his mindless rhythm by the feeling of someone sitting next to him. He twisted to smile unsurely at Brentan as the older man rested his sheathed sword on his lap. "Mind if I join you?"
Harry shook his head mutely.
Brentan unsheathed his blade; a handsome thing forged by men, and began to go through practiced motions of cleaning and sharpening his weapon. After several minutes of the two men sitting in silence Brentan finally interrupted the peace. "Want to talk about it?"
Harry started, nearly dropping the whetstone in his hand as he peeked out from under his frumpy fringe at the ranger. "About what?"
Brentan scoffed quietly at the question, "When we sparred earlier. I called you 'boy'." He stated focusing on Harry's tensing shoulders. The man returned his focus to his weapon allowing Harry to stew on his statement, weighing his whetstone in his hand pensively.
After a several more minutes of silence, Harry finally went back to sharpening his blade, his strokes slow and measured. "When I was a baby," he began uncertainly, "my parents were murdered. I was sent to live with my Aunt and Uncle." Brentan put his weapon aside, turning his attention on his charge. Harry kept his slow pace, finding comfort in the familiar motions. "They didn't like anything…unnatural." He explained, Brentan kept silent, studying the boy as he paused his motions for a split second. "They wouldn't call me by name. I thought my name was boy until I started school."
Brentan inhaled sharply. Noting how his charge had gone completely still, his expression troubled. "I did not mean to dredge up such painful memories."
Harry sent him a wry smile, "It's okay." He sheathed his sword, "It's a little better now. I only have to stay with them a few months out of a year." Brentan reached out before he could stop himself and drew the boy to his chest with one arm, tucking the tousled head of black hair under his chin. Harry sucked in a breath, surprised at the sudden contact.
The door burst open, letting cool air waft into the cabin, a gaggle of dwarves swarmed into the building, filling the quiet space with jovial voices and loud unbridled laughter sweeping Hermione and Ron in with them. "And I have two of the best mates a bloke could ask for." His voice was muffled by the fabric of Brentan's tunic as the ranger gave him one last squeeze before allowing the wizard his own space again.
Harry stood, sword in hand, and an awkward expression on his face. "And me." Brentan added after thinking for a moment, "You also have me, lad."
Harry floated in the black, knowing it wouldn't last long, he closed bottle green eyes and relished the feeling of freedom, the weightlessness in the black. The world righted itself faster this time; Harry took a shuddering breath, the stench of smoke prevalent. He took another steadying breath and opened his eyes.
He wasn't on the mountain; he was in the midst of what appeared to be a destroyed camp ground, thousands of dilapidated tents spread in rows around him, wood and fabric strewn on the ground before him in a trail of utter destruction.
Only a few feet away, the twisted corpse of a brunette woman in her nightgown lay face up, her dull eyes clouded over and unseeing as they stared blankly up into the night sky. A green smoky symbol writhed above her, a skull with a snake winding through its eye sockets and slithering out of its mouth. –Death, destruction, terror- this wasn't Middle-Earth. He was dreaming of home, somewhere he'd never been. Another vision?
"Harry." It was her voice again, Harry felt a tremor of fear run down his spine as memories of his last dream sprang up unbidden, and he closed his eyes, swallowing hard. –Safe in Beorn's halls, surrounded by friends, this wasn't real, it WASN'T- He opened his eyes and the woman on the ground was her, red hair splayed about her head, green eyes glazed in death, a fond smile frozen on her lips.
"You're getting so big," her voice was all around him, surrounding him with its motherly affection. "So strong."
Harry trembled, trying to resist the urge to go to her. –it wasn't real but it was still her, it was enough- stumbling forward to drop to his knees next to Lily's body, vision clouding with tears. "Mum, I'm lost. What do I do?" He cradled her head in his lap, eyes frantically scanning her pale skin, void of color, void of life.
"You must survive. You must kill him, destroy every inch."
"How am I supposed to survive, who am I supposed to kill? Voldemort?" –DON'T SAY HIS NAME!-
"You must die."
"How can I survive if I die?!" Harry cried in frustration. "You're speaking in riddles!"
"He's with you, connected to you, leeching off of you." Lily spoke, her mouth moving; body jerking to sit up stiffly, more marionette than human, hands gripping his face hard as her dead eyes stared into Harry's own.
"What?" Harry winced as her nails dug into his face.
"Eight pieces to destroy, eight pieces of him." Her dead glossy gaze searched his bottle green eyes desperately, "You must survive Harry." Her face began to flake into grey, her hands softening and becoming brittle. Within moments her body crumbled to ash in Harry's hands, blowing away across a field of dead bodies, towards a familiar lonely mountain.
Gravity seemed to twist making him fall backwards through smoke and mist to land hard on rocky ground, His breath left him. Through the haze a goblin bore down on him, sharpened teeth grit together in a snarl. He scrabbled at his empty belt for his sword, in his sleeve for his wand. He was unarmed, he could only close his eyes and lift an arm in a vain gesture of self-defense as the goblin thrust his spear into Harry's chest.
-Born as the seventh month dies, neither can live while the other survives-
Harry woke to a strangled cry of pain and the sound of half a dozen drawn weapons, sweat trickled from his brow and his breathing was heavy. His hands clutched at his tunic and he realized belatedly that he had caused the company's current state of wary wakefulness. "Sorry. Just a dream." He muttered into the darkness, moonlight glinting off of half drawn blades. A snick, a hiss and a small flame illuminated Brentan's face before he lit the wick of a lantern.
"Sheathe your weapons." The man growled to the room at large before he flopped back into the hay, arm thrown over his eyes. "There's no danger here." The sound of weapons sliding back into their sheathes and groaning dwarves lasted mere seconds before all was quiet again.
Harry scooted backwards until his back hit a wall and pulled his knees to his chest. Ron came to sit next to him, yawning and leaning into his side, Hermione imitated him on the other. "Was it the same one as before?" Ron inquired blearily, sword clanking as he set it down beside him.
"No." Harry rubbed his eyes tiredly. "It was- It was a different one. I was at a camp ground, it was massive and everything was destroyed. There was this mark floating in the sky. A skull and a snake. Then there was a woman on the ground, dead." He took a shuddering breath.
Hermione wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders squeezing him slightly. "Was it your mum again?" a sharp intake of breath from nearby had them pause, blinking into the poorly lit room before they dared to continue their conversation in a lower tone.
"Wasn't at first. She turned into her." Harry clarified, voice cracking. "She told me I had to kill him."
"Who?" Ron inquired, eyes closed now, but brows furrowed.
"She wouldn't say, but I thought maybe she meant Voldemort-" Ron flinched away from him.
"Why must you insist on saying his bloody name?" Ron grumbled as he resettled, shoulder coming back into contact with Harry's again.
"Why are you so scared of hearing it?" Harry growled back, eyes narrowed in irritation.
"Boys." Hermione interjected a tired note of warning in her tone. Ron lightly punched his shoulder looking away into the dimly lit room his ears turning a very distinct shade of pink and Harry roughly bumped Ron's shoulder in return, the almost argument forgiven and forgotten as the boys smiled shakily at each other. "Harry, did you-" she paused, choking on the words she wanted to say, "Were you killed again in your dream?"
Harry's smile faded –a ripping pain, a wicked grin, blood so much blood he was drowning in it- "Yeah."
There was another sharp intake of breath from one of the company, and this time they disregarded it.
"Chest again?" Ron inquired staring at where Harry had started unconsciously rubbing, "Maybe it's a vision, like Trelawney." He let loose a jaw cracking yawn, which Harry echoed a moment later.
"Maybe you should speak with Gandalf about your dreams." Hermione suggested, arms going back around his shoulders to give him another squeeze. Ron made a rough noise of assent as he flopped his head onto Harry's shoulder, and Harry allowed his cheek to rest on top of Hermione's head, trying to push out memories of his first dream that bubbled to the surface with the small gesture. "In the morning." She amended yawning widely, moving to hug Harry's arm to her protectively.
The dawn found the three sleeping teens tucked together against the wall, a blanket that looked suspiciously like one of Brentan's thrown over their laps.
A day later found the teenage trio astride a ponies. Harry stared at the backs of the dwarves in front of him, anxious to be off, yet unwilling to leave the safety and peace of Beorn's home behind. The Man stood to the side of the gaggle, scanning the surrounding clearing for danger, "Go now, while you have the light. The hunters are not far behind." He warned.
The company tapped their heels to the ponies' sides and they were off, rapidly covering ground and Harry wished they could keep their mounts for the duration of their journey. They slowed to a stop at the edge of a looming, gloomy forest that could certainly give the Forbidden Forest a run for its money.
Gandalf dismounted first, followed by the rest of the company. "The Elven Gate." He stated almost reverently.
Brentan nudged his charges towards their packs. "This is where we must part." Brentan announced, "Our path lies further south. Gentlemen it has been a pleasure."
Bilbo smiled up at them, as they removed their packs from the ponies, "It's been a pleasure. I will miss you and I wish you luck on your journey."
Harry grinned down at the hobbit, "You're a brave man, Bilbo."
Hermione knelt down and hugged him, "We'll miss you Bilbo!" Bilbo blushed, patting the girl's back hesitantly.
Ron shifted nervously from beside Harry, shouldering his pack, "We'll miss you mate." He said, clapping a hand on Bilbo's shoulder as Hermione let him go. "Look after those dwarves, aye?"
"Oi!" Fili shouted at them looking affronted, "He'll be the one needing a looking after!"
Kili grinned, "Our wee master Boggins."
Thorin cuffed the twins over the head gruffly but fondly, "Enough, we're wasting daylight."
The tree line was thick, the vegetation old not having been touched by humanity in decades if not longer. They trekked south towards a trail that would lead them safely through Mirkwood and on towards Rhun. They were silent for a stretch, each lost in their own thoughts.
Brentan said the road to Rhun, if they kept a steady pace, was only about a week's journey. Once there Harry hoped they could find traces of Alatar the Blue.
Brentan murmured something to Ron and clapped him on the shoulder before deliberately falling behind to match strides with Harry. "What seems to be troubling you Harry?" Harry gave Brentan a sidelong glance, the Ranger puffed on a long black pipe, seemingly content.
"Back on the cliff." Brentan Ah'ed in understanding, but remained silent otherwise, "You could have died, because of me." Harry finished after a long moment of silence. "Because I wasn't-" he paused words flying through his mind –because I wasn't enough, wasn't smart like Hermione, wasn't strong like Ron-
"You didn't knock the tree over a cliff." Brentan pointed out with a wan smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
Harry scowled up at him through his now too long fringe, "I could've done something to keep you from falling."
Brentan huffed, ruffling Harry's hair fondly. Harry ducked away, batting at the Ranger's hand halfheartedly. "But you didn't have to, and I'm alive and well."
"What if, maybe, someday, I might get someone killed because I'm not prepared?" Harry countered. – Someone I care for because I'm not smart enough or strong enough-
"That is a possibility." Brentan thoughtfully drew another lungful of smoke, and Harry broodily stared at the tips of his dusty leather boots. "But you can't save everyone, Harry."
Harry jerked his head up in surprise. "I'm supposed to." He felt slip out before he could stop it. "I'm the one who has to defeat the Dark Lord, I have to save everyone."
Brentan lifted his eyes skyward, watching a pair of sparrows dance around each other and disappear into Mirkwood's deep foliage. "I'm telling you that you can't. It's impossible, especially for a fourteen year old boy." Harry opened his mouth to retort but Brentan cut him off. "Wizard or not, you're still but a child. To think on such a matter as you are, will certainly drive you to dark thoughts or worse." Harry sulked for a moment. Brentan sighed, tipping his pipe upside town and tapping the side to clear it of residual tobacco and ashes. "It's fine to want to be prepared, so when you get back to your world, study, learn all that you can and live." Harry jerked to a stop for a split second before faltering forward again, shocked by the ranger's last few words, reminiscent of a dream, those dreams. –You need to live, Harry-
"Have some regard for your life, you may not be aware but your recklessness and disregard for it concerns your friends." Brentan continued on unnoticing of Harry's sudden inner turmoil. –You must die so that you can live, die to survive-
"Hey! I think I see the trail ahead!" Ron called from a ways ahead, pointing excitedly to a break in the dark foliage.
Author's Confession: I think I have grown a bit overly fond of Brentan. I had wanted him to remain aloof and mysterious, only fulfilling his role as protector, guide and teacher. But then he took on a life of his own. In my mind he has a lovely wife and two little girls in a small village somewhere. He's always wanted a son, and is now projecting this on both Ron and Harry as he teaches them and grows closer to them. He's a big mushy bear.
I'll never get rid of him now; I've named him, nicknamed him mushy bear, and fed him. He'll just keep coming back for more….like a stray cat. God Damnit Brentan son of Elmar, you smug sonuvabitch.