A/N: As regards the previous chapter, Emrys is not going to be a major character in this story, not under current planning.As for sequels, well that's another matter. Sorry about the long speech, but Emrys is basically trying to allay suspicion about his motives early on, and he was, as Eomer guessed, born to a captured low ranking noble Rohirrim lady who educated him after a fashion, hence the surprising. Also, there is now a prequel to this fic, a one shot, one of many hopefully, on the first meeting of Harry and Aragorn. Others I'm planning include the fight between Harry and one of the Nine in Mirkwood, and the resulting injury and convalescence, wherein Harry meets Legolas and Thranduil.
Also, there is discussion of weighty themes in this chapter. As regards LGBT, I would like to say that I consider who people sleep with to be their business and hold no objection to someone sleeping with a member of their own gender. However the no slash thing remains, mainly because I just don't see it happening with any of the characters (despite longheld suspicions about Frodo and Sam) and I doubt I could write it very well.
This chapter is generally fairly angst heavy, with humour sprinkled liberally throughout.
Finally the Fellowship entered the ethereal tree top capital of Lothlorien. At one point they had been called upon to walk a tight rope with only a second rope as support. Harry had taken one look and pointedly apparated himself and Gimli across, though he had to cast a quick vanishing charm after Gimli was heartily sick. Apparition, Side-Along or otherwise, didn't agree with everyone. The dwarf had subsequently threatened to cut him in half and feed him to the dogs if he ever did that in all but the direst need ever again, causing amusement among all present, the ice breaking between the Elves and the Fellowship.
As Harry had climbed the staircase, he had pocketed his wand, making it clear to all present that if anything caught fire, he would be an almost innocent bystander.
When they stood in the main chamber of the palace of Lothlorien, they were greeted by the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn.
"10 set out from Rivendell, and 9 remain." Galadriel said.
"Where is Gandalf, for I had much desired to speak with him?" Celeborn added, while Galadriel looked around the room, mind-speaking to each Fellowship member individually.
"A Balrog of Morgoth." Legolas said, causing mingled 'Ai's' and gasps to spread around the room.
"He has fallen into the shadow." Galadriel added. Harry had wondered the first time he had seen her so ethereal and mysterious if she was vaguely stoned or mildly drunk. As it was, she was merely using her impressive magical powers for one purpose or another, meaning that much of her attention was elsewhere. In some ways she was like a scarily competent and competently scary version of Professor Trelawney. Trelawney would probably have worshipped Galadriel and Elrond as mighty seers. Harry took a brief moment to imagine Trelawney telling a befuddled Elrond earnestly about the sheer power of his inner eye and the properties of tea leaves. This thought caused Galadriel to give him a benevolent smile that would have been accompanied in someone with less poise and dignity by an affectionate eyeroll.
She then looked sad, and said, "The Quest stands on the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fall into ruin." As she did, she locked eyes with Boromir, clearly speaking with him, and saying something that seemed to scare him, causing him to avert his eyes in fear and shame, almost sobbing slightly.
Stop doing that, Harry thought reprovingly at her. It was quite obvious that she was scaring him.
Some things must be said. You of all people should know that Harry, She replied.
You're not the one who has to deal with his paranoia afterwards, Harry grumbled. She did have a point, he noted sourly.
She did not reply and looked to Sam, saying, with a smile, "Yet hope remains while the Company is true. Do not let your hearts be troubled, go now and rest, for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight you will rest well." As she said that, Frodo started. Clearly Galadriel had mastered mental multitasking, Harry thought.
They were sent to ground floor quarters, outside, it being obvious that much of the Fellowship, i.e. the Hobbits, Boromir and Gimli, were less than comfortable in the trees.
"A lament for Gandalf." Legolas said, answering the unspoken query about the mysterious and sorrowful singing that permeated Lothlorien.
"What do they say about him?" Boromir asked.
"I haven't the heart to tell you. For me, the grief is still too near." Legolas replied sadly.
Harry cocked his head and listened, "Something about a tireless traveller. I don't speak much Sindarin."
"The tireless part is certainly true. He looked like an old man, yet he was forever telling us to keep up." Harry added, with a smile.
"Take some rest," Aragorn said to the now brooding Boromir, who had moved away from the Company. "These lands are well protected."
"I will find no rest here." Boromir said shortly. Aragorn looked at him, surprised.
"I heard her voice inside my head. She spoke of my father and the fall of Gondor. She said that even now there is hope left. But I cannot see it. It is long since we had any hope." Aragorn, having been steadily more and more concerned, sat down beside and just behind Boromir, as the latter elaborated.
"My father is a noble man, but his rule is failing, our people's faith…" Boromir gulped, "Whatever it took to make things right, I would do it, to see the glory of Gondor restored." That, Harry thought, sitting in the shadows, was either very good, or very, very bad. It could mean that he would accept Aragorn as King or try to take the Ring for himself.
"Have you ever seen it Aragorn? The White Tower of Ecthelion, rearing like a spike of pearl and silver, it's banners blown high in the morning breeze…" Boromir whispered in reverential fashion. "Have you ever been called home by the clear ring of silver trumpets?"
"I have seen the White City, long ago." Aragorn said quietly, having been listening patiently.
"One day, our paths will lead us there. And the tower guard shall take up the call, that the Lords of Gondor have returned. And the Black Wizard, who is currently skulking in the shadows." He said, changing his tone to a happier one, as he looked over Aragorn's shoulder.
"Your father's never liked me very much. I've only seen Minas Tirith, or the Mundburg, once. You were defending the frontier with Mordor at the time, and I was visiting with Theodred and Eomer, who were acting as envoys on some trade matter or other. I got on well with Faramir, who seemed to be endlessly fascinated with my magic." Harry commented, standing up.
"That's Faramir for you: always trying to work out the latest mystery or find a legend." Boromir said with chuckle.
Aragorn stood up and said, "I take my leave. Long have I wanted to see the White City again, and you would be excellent company to see it in."
As Aragorn walked away, Harry gave Boromir a penetrating stare and said, "Your father didn't seem to like Faramir very much. He never stopped talking about you, but barely mentioned his other son." Privately, Harry could vaguely see Denethor's resemblance to Uncle Vernon, except that Denethor was partially the way he was from living on Mordor's doorstep.
"No, he never did." Boromir said, heaving a sigh. "It was less of a problem as children, and my mother loved us both equally, but when she died, Father began to be grimmer and less tolerant of Faramir's scholarly pursuits. Those and Gandalf's visits, anyway. I've tried to make him stop, and he sent me to the Council instead of Faramir, saying 'I know his uses and they are few', to his face. I told him off about it, but he was having known of it and sent me anyway. Faramir would have been better for the Quest I think. He's better at dealing with people, and knows much of the old lore. He also leads a very competent group of Ranger's, modelled on those lead by Captain Thorongil." Harry raised an eyebrow. Thorongil was one of Aragorn's many aliases, and there was a lot of his past he refused to talk about.
"When did Thorongil fight for Gondor?" Harry asked.
"45-60 years ago, in Ecthelion's time." Boromir replied. "He's almost certainly dead now."
"He could have been one of the Dunedain. They live for a ridiculously long time, and fight as Rangers. They also, like Thorongil did from what I've heard from Theoden, have hygiene issues. Apparently it's to blend in." Harry said casually.
"Aragorn's father?" Boromir said, looking where Aragorn had gone.
"Nope. He died when Aragorn was 2."
"So?"
"Aragorn is pushing 90."
"Ah. Aragorn?" Boromir asked, incredulous.
"I don't know. But he did spend a lot of time travelling in his youth." Harry said cryptically, and stood up, stretching. "I would like to see the White City again, but only if you promise to make sure that your father doesn't kill me for turning his sceptre and robes bright pink when he accused Faramir of not consorting with enough eligible young women at parties."
Boromir grinned. "I wondered why he was in such a bad mood when I got back. I can't promise, but I can say that you have reformed. But I'm not a very good liar either." Then his expression darkened as Harry stood to leave.
"You didn't do Faramir any favours with that trick, no matter how well meant."
"Why?"
"He didn't talk to or about Faramir for three months after that."
"I would have thought that would be blessing, since he spent every other sentence blithely talking about Faramir's perceived failures." Harry said lightly.
"Courtiers talked. Gossiped behind Faramir's back. Speculated and smeared his reputation, by saying that he was clearly interested in young men instead of women, you being one of the chief candidates. I never had a problem with that possibility. You command in the army, you get used to turning a blind eye to frightened soldiers turning to another man for comfort, particularly on the more dangerous frontlines. But in court, that sort of thing can ruin a man. I squashed the rumours, but they very occasionally resurface, not for long, but still. It meant that Faramir had a very difficult year or so. I know that he doesn't hold it against you, but you owe him an apology at some point. Every action has its consequence, Harry. Especially when someone like you or I wields great power." Boromir said grimly, meeting Harry's eyes.
Harry stayed still for a very long time, then said quietly, "That I do." Then he walked away. He had a lot of thinking to do.
"Boromir." He called back.
The Gondorian turned, and said, "Yes?"
"Thank you. For reminding me of that. And I wanted to say that you are not the only one the Ring tempts and whispers to. Remember that any gifts it promises are short lived and hollow, nothing but illusions." Harry said quietly.
Boromir nodded. "Good night Harry."
"Good night Boromir."
Later that night, Galadriel walked barefoot through the where the Fellowship slept. All but two slumbered peacefully on, as the Lady had promised. Frodo awoke with a start, and followed the glowing Lady. Harry woke more slowly, pulling his Invisibility cloak around himself and silencing his feet.
As the Hobbit and the Wizard followed behind, the latter shadowing both, the Lady walked down some stairs into a sort of glade, with a small fountain and an engraved stone pedestal with a silver bowl set upon it. Harry suppressed a gasp. The legendary Mirror of Galadriel. Few saw it and fewer spoke of what they saw. Trelawney would have killed for something like that, Harry thought amusedly as he settled himself in a corner of the glade to watch.
She dipped a silver jug into the pool created by the fountain and turned, the jug full, to see Frodo, who she had almost certainly known was there.
"Will you look into the mirror?" She asked.
"What will I see?" Frodo replied slowly and warily.
"Even the wisest cannot tell, for the Mirror shows many things," Galadriel said enigmatically, pouring the water from the jug into the bowl. Privately Harry admired her precision. Not one drop was wasted. "Things that were, things that are, and some things… that have not yet come to pass." She said, never dropping her gaze and stepping away from the now full Mirror.
Frodo hesitantly stepped up and looked down into the Mirror. What he saw plainly discomforted him, as Galadriel kept a watchful eye on him, and Harry was disturbed to note, on the Ring when it snuck out of his shirt. Slowly it dropped towards the Mirror, and an orange light emanated from the Mirror. Eventually Frodo managed to wrest it from above the Mirror with a cry, and stumbled backwards as the Mirror steamed. Galadriel had not moved throughout. Harry watched. This was getting worrying.
Galadriel looked sidelong at Frodo and said, in a deeper voice than normal, "I know what it is you saw. For it is also in my mind," her voice growing harsher as she turned face on to Frodo. Her face had gained a harsher cast as had her expression. Then she seemed to speak to Frodo mind to mind, but Harry could guess. Failure of the quest. Then Frodo did something that nearly made Harry jump out of cover. He lifted the Ring from around his neck and held out in his upturned palm to Galadriel. The situation had officially gone from worrying to terrifying.
"You offer it to me freely," Galadriel said, almost dazedly, a little surprised, as she advanced on Frodo.
"I cannot deny that my heart has greatly desired this," She said, her own outstretched hand trembling like her voice. Harry silently drew his wand. This could get messy. Then Galadriel spread her hands wide, her voice deepening, "In place of a Dark Lord you would have a Queen! Not Dark but as beautiful and terrible as the Dawn, as treacherous as the sea, stronger than the foundations of the earth! All shall love me and despair!" As she said this, the air darkened and her face took on an otherworldly and frighteningly perfect seeming, a fey light emanating from within her, the robes on her arms turned to rags and a silver metal breastplate over her dress, an unseen wind billowing as all the area around her darkened.
Shit, Harry thought, and a whole string of unprintable words. Saruman was one thing. Galadriel with the Ring was a whole other matter. A natural Legilimens on her scale with the raw power of the One Ring would be a terrifying foe to face, even with all the circumstances stacked in his favour, such as the entire auror squads of Europe and the America's behind him and her half asleep. Then, thankfully, the light diminished and disappeared, leaving only Galadriel in her normal attire, and it was Galadriel's turn to breathe quickly.
"I passed the test. I will diminish and go into the West and remain Galadriel." She said, with a relief that was matched only by Harry's. Frodo simply looked even more defeated than before.
"I cannot do this alone," Frodo said despairingly.
Galadriel turned back to him, and said gravely and compassionately, "You are a Ringbearer Frodo. To be a Ringbearer is to be alone."
Frodo looked down, in a heartbreaking manner that reminded Harry so much of himself when he was young, wondering, 'Why me?'
"This task was given to you. If you do not succeed, no one will." Galadriel said.
"I know what I must do. But I am afraid to do it." Frodo said sadly.
Galadriel bent down, nose to nose with Frodo, and looked him in the eye. "Even the smallest person can change the course of History."
Frodo clasped the Ring once more and put it back around his neck.
Harry chose that moment to reveal himself, pulling off his cloak and stepping forward. "And that smallest person is not alone. You are never alone. In the end, you must do the deed yourself, but we will all be there, each and every one of us, and we will all do our utmost to help and protect you." He said, hugging Frodo around the shoulders.
Frodo stiffened cautiously out of surprise, understandably after what Galadriel had just done, then leaned into the hug and said quietly, "Thank you."
After a long moment, they broke the hug, and Frodo walked back to his bed with much to worry about, tempered by the knowledge that his friends were there to help him.
Meanwhile Harry stared at Galadriel, raised a solitary eyebrow and said, "You too, huh?"
Galadriel looked slightly confused, then said, comprehension dawning, "Ah. You mean the temptation of the one Ring."
"Indeed. It has tried to take me, you, and as you and I both know, it is trying to take Boromir, who has the best intentions and the weakest resilience to such blandishments. Sometimes I wonder if he wasn't right, and his brother wasn't the better choice for this quest." Harry said.
"Faramir, Captain of Gondor will have his role to play before this is all over." Galaldriel said quietly, then looked down at the no longer steaming Mirror, which now sat still and tranquil on its pedestal.
"Would you also look into the Mirror?" Galadriel asked him.
Harry paused, and then nodded. The Mirror was one of the most powerful magical objects he had come across, and it was a rarely accorded honour to be allowed to look into. He stood as Frodo had, his hands on the side of the pedestal and looking down into it. Images began to form on the dark and still surface, showing, though he did not know it, the same images as Frodo had seen, the Fellowship. Then the images changed, to Hogwarts, Diagon Alley, then the Burrow. At first the images were peaceful, showing Harry snippets of his past, and, for one heart breaking moment, Ginny leaning out of her window in the Burrow, her lips forming the words; 'Where are you Harry?'.
Then the images changed: Sauron, in the form of a great man in black armour with the Ring once more on his hand, leading his armies across Middle Earth, burning and destroying Minas Tirith, Edoras and countless other places. Then, Sauron was shown sending a force under Saruman and the Witch King to Lothlorien, where they discovered something. Something that brought them to Harry's world.
Tears rolled down Harry's cheeks as he saw the forces of Mordor crush the woefully underprepared Wizards, then Muggles, who put up a rather better fight, slaughtering thousands with bullets and planes, but after a long struggle they too fell, and both worlds were covered in darkness. He saw the Weasley's, everyone he knew and cared for, tortured, murdered or enslaved. He saw Voldemort, brought back from the Veil of Death as a hideously twisted Wraith, second only to the Witch King in cruelty and power. He saw the end of hope, light snuffed out, as both worlds were eternally plundered by the forces of darkness.
And he saw Ginny, whose fate does not bear describing, a fate he could not put words to. And he saw himself, trapped in the same punishment as Hurin had been in the First Age by Morgoth, forced to watch the horrendous fates of those who he cared for without rest or respite for hundreds of years. And the Great Eye reigned supreme over all.
Harry turned away from the Mirror, and spat, "Enough." Tears rolled unchecked down his cheeks. "That will not come to pass. If I have to fight Sauron himself and all his minions with my bare hands it will not happen. Do you hear me?" Harry snarled.
Galadriel stood silently. Harry was in a dangerous mood, and she was well aware that provoking him further would quite possibly be the worst idea in her immortal life. As Harry was reduced to sobbing, she laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. He flinched, then relaxed after a moment.
"Young Wizard, your burden is almost as great as Frodo's. Everyone looks to you and Aragorn for leadership and reassurance now that Mithrandir has passed on, and in your power they forget your youth. You hold in your hands the fate of two worlds. You must prevent Boromir from taking the Ring, for he will try soon. We both know this, and if you can, you must save his life. You must protect the Ringbearer. If you fail, what you saw in the Mirror is what will come to pass without a doubt. I am sorry young one, but that is your burden."
Galadriel knelt down beside Harry, who had sat down, still sobbing quietly, "Know that if any of the wise, I, my husband, Lord Elrond or your own Albus Dumbledore could bear it for you, we would without hesitation. When he sent you hear, Albus did not know of the trials you would undergo. When he heard that you were to be chosen for this task, he pleaded that another be sent in your place. He said that you had suffered enough, that you deserved surcease. Instead he was forced to accept a bargain. In your hours of need, help will come." Galadriel said quietly and consolingly.
"Am I strong enough? I failed to defeat Saruman, not once but twice, and I failed to save Gandalf from the Balrog. I do not see how I can do all that you ask of me." Harry said, drying his tears.
"You have to be. Or we are all doomed. One day you will have power almost without equal, and until then, you will receive help, because you need it and you deserve it." Galadriel answered him.
"That's what Gandalf said. And Professor Dumbledore, 12 years ago." Harry said slowly. He looked up at Galadriel who smiled enigmatically.
"Help is coming little one." She said.
"Please don't call me that, it makes me feel about 11 years old." Harry complained, removing the permanent sticking charm on his fogged up glasses and cleaning them.
Galadriel laughed softly. "You must rest now. I fear that rest will not be easy in the coming days."
"I will." And he disappeared with a light crack. And finally, all slept peacefully in Lothlorien.