A/N: I'm on fire! Another chapter, even bigger than the last!
Some things happen slightly differently from canon in this chapter, and some absolutely awesome stuff is added, if I say so myself.
The patrol galloped into Edoras, not slowing as they raced through the gates, Eomer wearing a grim expression while he effortlessly controlled his horse in a masterful display of horsemanship and held up the lolling and now pale Theodred, whose bandages were soaked. At his curt nod, two trusted men circled around to the rear, taking Emrys to his quarters. His wounds were rather less extensive, and it would be very difficult to hide a Prince of Rohan as compared to a half Dunlending prisoner.
Once Theodred was ensconced, he would have words with the King and Grima. Maybe Theodred's nigh mortal wounds and a helmet with the sign of the White Hand would break the enchantment. Hope was failing in Rohan.
The Fellowship spent several weeks in Lothlorien, resting and recovering. Legolas joined in and consistently won archery competitions, Aragorn took much counsel from Celeborn and Galadriel, planning the Company's next move, Harry entertained the Hobbits and Boromir with tales of his past and a selection of rude drinking songs as well as pressganging Haldir into showing them around the city, keeping a close watch on Boromir all the while. Sam soon enthusiastically joined the elves whose job it was to maintain the Mallorn trees, and spent much of his time with them.
Gimli had examined the rope that Idril, the sister of Rumil, and her fellows made, and pronounced it magnificent. That and the simple, yet beautiful silver and gold pendants he made for each of them, pronouncing that beauty must be rewarded with beauty in an unexpected bout of eloquence, had won him the somewhat grudging approval of most of the Galadhrim and the outright friendship of most others.
Since his father Gloin had given him free rein to negotiate in matters of trade (though it is likely he was thinking of the wealth of Gondor when he had done so, not of the elven kingdoms) on his behalf, a basic agreement, to be finalised in peacetime, for rope and durable cloth in exchange for either weapons, jewellery, or assistance in building and rebuilding great structures.
Some naysayers among the elves still muttered about Doriath, but the pointedly declared approval of Celeborn, himself originally from Doriath and with no particular prior love for Dwarves, as well as that of Aragorn, Harry and Legolas, all highly regarded in elven society, was enough to quieten their speech.
When they came to leave, the Lady Galadriel gave each member of the company gifts: She gave Aragorn the Elfstone, a beautiful and rather strange emerald that seemed to have trapped sunlight within it, as well as a proper sheath for his sword, to Merry and Pippin, she gave silver belts with fine sheaths for their swords, to Boromir she gave a gold belt, and at Harry's suggestion, an elven steel enhancement on his shield, which rendered it stronger but hardly any heavier.
To Legolas she gave a Galadhrim bow strung with elf hair and arrows, to Gimli she gave, upon stuttered request that drew smiles from all present, 3 hairs from head, which he stored carefully. To Frodo she gave the Phial of Galadriel, which glowed slightly with the captured starlight of the Gil-Estel, otherwise known as Earendil's ship Vingilot. To Sam she gave a box with letter G on it, which was apparently some sort of super fertiliser and some elven rope, remarking with a smile that it was to be the first much to flow out into the wide world from Lothlorien. To Harry she gave a set of light elven armour much like Legolas's and a feather light steel helmet with the wings like a hawk engraved on it and an emerald that matched his eyes set in the centre of the forehead, saying knowingly that his shield charms might be needed elsewhere.
"I was also asked to pass on these. And from what I know of you, they are richly deserved and heirlooms of your House." Galadriel said, waving forward an attendant, who held out a folded piece of red and gold cloth with something long and light inside it. Harry gently unwrapped it, and gasped. The first item was one he had never seen before, a flowing shortened surcoat that covered his chest with the rampant lion of Gryffindor in gold on a beautiful crimson background. The other object was more familiar. In a beautifully embossed gold and red sheath was the Sword of Gryffindor. Harry drew it slowly and marvelled at the blade, which seemed to have resized itself to fit his hand perfectly. Probably part of the enchantment, Harry thought.
"Help is given in Arda to those who deserve it… But who?" Harry whispered, awestruck, and looked up at Galadriel who merely smiled enigmatically. He bowed deeply from the waist, hand on his heart, accepting the gifts with the good grace that he had long since learned was expected in Middle Earth.
Also given were Lembas, the legendary elven waybread, 9 perfectly fitted grey elven cloaks and several beautiful boats to aid their passage to the Falls of Rauros. The Fellowship took their leave of Lothlorien, quietly admiring their gifts. Harry had put on the light armour, and strapped the sword of Gryffindor to his back but stowed the helmet and surcoat, flushing and muttering embarrassedly that it was far too noticeable for their mission, earning good natured jeers from the Fellowship.
"Ah Laddie, you'll be beating of the lasses with a stick if you wear that bonnie armour." Gimli said teasingly.
"Nay Gimli, for beautiful though it is, the poor maiden who looked upon Harry would be blinded on all but the most overcast of days." Legolas countered slyly.
"Though they would be a poor substitute for maidens, Harry could blind Orc's in battle, making them much easier to kill." Boromir said thoughtfully.
Laughter spread through the Fellowship as they rowed steadily down river. That night they stopped off at a sandy outcrop. The Fellowship washed, and Harry started a fire as darkness fell before Gimli and Legolas could argue who was better at starting fires again. Sam cooked dinner, Merry and Pippin pointing out, surprisingly logically, that whilst waybread sustained then settled down, pillowing his head on a bedroll.
As the moon rose, Harry just lay there and watched the stars and the listened to the crackle and pop of the fire. His reverie was interrupted by a soft splashing then the swish of an arrow and a hasty splash as whatever had been shot at scrambled out of the way. Legolas, who had been on watch, had his new bow in his hands and was scanning the river carefully, looking to see if his target would reappear. Harry stood and moved carefully, sand crunching beneath his feet, to stand just behind Legolas's right shoulder.
"What is it?" Harry asked quietly.
"Gollum." Legolas said grimly.
"He is too good a waterman to be lost easily," Aragorn said, causing Harry to jump in shock, not for the first time. Aragorn derived mild amusement from sneaking up on Harry, as if to remind him that he had done so at their first meeting and could still do so just as easily. Harry usually got his own back by silencing his feet and doing the same.
"Would you stop being so silent and, and, and…" Harry hissed, at a loss for words momentarily, "and… Rangery!"
"Is that even a real word?" Aragorn asked with quiet amusement.
"If it isn't yet, it should be." Harry grumbled.
"The new word is as unexpected as Harry's new armour." Legolas deadpanned.
"Oh God, not this again." Harry moaned, "I'm going back to sleep."
And he walked back to his bedroll and curled up, quiet snickers following him all the while.
The next morning they continued rowing down the Anduin. All was apparently quiet and peaceful, except for the sub-audible sound of nerves fraying. Though the Fellowship were all excruciatingly aware of how vulnerable they were to arrows from the cliffs on both sides of the river, nothing came. No war cry, no unexpected arrow storm, nothing. Suddenly a large flock of birds flew, calling in alarm, raising the Fellowship's collective paranoia up to eleven.
Something was in the forest. It was large, scary and following them. Harry moved his wand into easier reach. Being a moment faster with a spell could be vital. However, nothing befell them, and sculling gently down river in the elven boats that cut through water like a knife through cloth. Eventually they reached the falls of Rauros, and Aragorn nudged Frodo.
"Frodo, look."
The Ringbearer looked up, and the utterly breath-taking sight of the Argonath temporarily wiped his mind free of worries.
"Bugger me…" Harry said, awed.
"Request denied." Legolas replied. Harry paused to roll his eyes at the dry witted Elf, then resumed staring at the statues, enormous yet magnificently detailed, over 3000 years old, but as sharp in detail as when they were made.
"Just imagine. If Aragorn becomes King we could be seeing giant statues of him all over the place. Or at least wherever he wants to scare something." Harry said conversationally as they were about halfway across the bowl shaped lake between the Argonath and the Falls of Rauros.
"If I ever have to suffer such an indignity, which I sincerely hope I will not, rest assured you will certainly be joining me," Aragorn said with a slight smile.
"Oh no Aragorn, one of me is almost more than one world can handle. I dread to think what would happen if the populace saw something as unfailingly magnificent as a statue of me." Harry said jovially.
"I'm sure they would get used to it." Aragorn deadpanned.
"Now who's acting like small children?" Merry said, faux disapprovingly and with a glint in his eye.
"Him." Aragorn and Harry said in synchrony, pointing at one another.
Boromir, clearly being particularly tried by the Ring and by the casual speech about Aragorn being the heir of Isildur, a fact he was still uncomfortable with, snapped, "Do you think it would be better to make camp than bicker?"
Harry raised his eyebrows and said innocently as they beached the boats, "Of course. I pray you rest happy in the knowledge that we will never act in any other manner than one of total seriousness ever again."
"Now is not the time for jokes Master Potter." Boromir said, clearly on edge.
"Sometimes you have to laugh or you'll cry. That goes for quests to destroy the source of ultimate evil. It is not only your world at stake Boromir, the Mirror of Galadriel showed me that much. If we fail, this world will be overrun by a second darkness, as will mine soon after." Harry shuddered, remembering the wraith-Voldemort. "And many of the things I saw do not bear repeating."
Boromir reined in his temper. "I'm sorry Harry. This quest is trying me more than most," he said, nodding at Frodo, and by extension the Ring.
"Stay strong Boromir." Harry replied sympathetically, patting the Gondorian on the arm.
"When was the last time you used a sword?" asked Boromir, changing the subject abruptly.
"Um, 2 years ago. Eomer taught me the basics and Glorfindel refined my swordsmanship, but I preferred to travel light and use a dagger." Harry replied, caught off guard by the question.
"If that sword is to be anything more than a decoration or a liability, you need practice with it." Boromir said firmly, drawing his own sword, casting aside pack and shield. Harry grinned and drew his the sword of Gryffindor, hefting it slightly. He held it in a guard position and waited for Boromir to make his move.
When he did, it was unexpectedly fast, and Harry barely deflected it. Boromir raised his eyebrows. "You are going to need to be faster than that in battle," he admonished. "Again."
Boromir flicked another slash, which Harry deflected more easily this time, his reflexes coming back to him. Boromir slashed from another direction, turning it into a lunge that Harry slid past his body with a touch of his own blade, stepping sideways with Quidditch and Combat honed reflexes, launching an attack of his own, thrusting and cutting in equal measure, cheered on by the Hobbits.
Boromir calmly fended off the attacks for a minute or so, inwardly somewhat surprised. Harry had been taught well, and he was something of a natural with a blade, though that might have had something to do with his knife work and natural reflexes, which were better than anything short of an elf. Then Boromir twisted, showing unusual grace for a man his size, dodging Harry's latest lunge, stepping between Harry's front and back legs and finally helping Harry over his leg.
As the younger man dropped and rolled, getting up and brushing the damp grit off himself, Boromir sheathed his sword. "You'll do Harry. You'll do nicely. Just remember that most opponents don't just use their swords in combat." He said with satisfaction, as the rest applauded the impromptu sparring session.
Harry's eyes gleamed. "Next time I won't go so easily on you then." He said with a laugh, sheathing the sword of Gryffindor.
"Nor will I." Boromir said with a smile. The duel had taken his mind off the One, a subject that had occupied his mind ever since Moria. Part of him said that it would be wrong to take the Ring, that he had sworn to see the judgement of Council done. Another, darker, part of him, fed by the Ring sung a siren song that it was easier to ask forgiveness than permission, and with such power he could defend Gondor, the country that had wept so many tears for her fallen sons.
Aragorn meanwhile had started a fire and said, "We cross the lake at nightfall. We hide the boats and continue on foot. We approach Mordor from the north."
Gimli immediately responded. "Oh yes? Just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil, an impassable labyrinth of razor sharp rocks, and after that it gets even better." Pippin had paused mid-chew, and Legolas was staring worriedly into the surrounding forest. "Festering stinking marshlands as far as the eye can see."
"You make it sound so lovely Gimli. I'll be sure to enjoy the view when we get there." Harry said sarcastically, eyes shut and his head propped up on his pack, having painstakingly reshaped his wand holster to attach to his sword hilt, allowing him to wield both sword and wand at the same time with ease.
"That is our road. I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength Master Dwarf." Aragorn said, walking on to look for firewood, Pippin watching the free entertainment.
"Recover my strength? Oh." Gimli spluttered, sitting back down again and grumbling into his beard.
Legolas stepped up to Aragorn, abandoning his watch on the woods, saying, "We should leave now."
"No. Orcs patrol the eastern shore, we must wait for cover of darkness." Aragorn said firmly.
"It is not the eastern shore that worries me. A shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind. Something draws near, I can feel it." Harry, listening in, opened one eye, making use of a supersensory charm. It was wise not to discount the intuitions of elves, for they were all too often proven right.
Merry added some more wood to the pile, while Gimli continued to mutter about recovering strength, and said, "Where's Frodo?"
Both of Harry's eyes snapped open and looked around the Fellowship's camp, as Sam bolted upright. Two people were missing, Frodo, and, Harry thought as his eyes darted over to Boromir's things, Boromir.
"Merlin's Balls!" Harry snarled, leaping up, snatching his sword and buckling it on As he ran to the forest he picked up Boromir's shield and lightened it on the run, summoning his helmet as an afterthought. The surcoat could wait for another time. As he buckled on the helmet, ruby flashing in the afternoon sun, he hoped he wasn't too late.
"Point me Boromir!" He snapped, drawing his wan and watching it spin, following it as it pointed North West. He ran on, and overheard Frodo talking to Boromir, wariness evident in his voice.
"You are not yourself." Harry heard Frodo say, as he ran up the hill.
"What chance do you think you have?" Boromir snarled, clearly pushed beyond reason.
Harry swore under his breath and increased his pace.
"He will take the Ring, and you will beg for death before the end!" Boromir continued, then chased after Frodo. Harry saw them, struggling as Boromir ranted and raved, come into view and was about to stun Boromir before Frodo disappeared from under Boromir, wriggling free with a parting kick.
"I see your mind, you would take the Ring to Sauron! You would betray us! Curse you, and all Halflings!" Boromir roared, driven to madness. With regret, Harry was about to drop him with stunner, but then Boromir slipped and fell, Harry's curse flying overhead. Boromir got up, leaves in his hair and began to whimper softly, his mind returning and conscience with it, "Frodo?"
"What have I done?" He whispered.
"Frodo, I'm sorry!" He yelled, sorrow in his voice, then turned to see Harry staring sadly and compassionately at him from 20 feet away.
"Harry. Are you here to kill me? I have betrayed the quest, I gave into temptation, it is the least I deserve." Boromir rambled sadly. Harry watched him silently and made his decision. He pocketed his wand, covered the distance and held out his hand. Boromir looked at it as if he had never seen a hand before.
"Come on, get up." Harry said sternly. Boromir grasped his hand and stood, unsure of what was happening. Harry eyed him for a long moment, then pulled him into a hug. Boromir may have been more heavily built, but Harry was easily as tall as he was, and wrapped his arms around the sobbing Gondorian.
"Hush now. I forgive you, and I am certainly not going to kill you." Harry said firmly, rubbing Boromir on the back.
"I can never look any of you in the face again, least of all Frodo. You'll all hate me, and be right to. I have dishonoured my name and my family. Kill me, it would be a mercy."
"Didn't I just say I wasn't going to? The Ring has been tempting you for a long time, and you are not the first or the last person to fall prey to its temptations. Dry your eyes and come with me. By the sounds of things, there is a battle, and battle redeems all." Harry said, releasing Boromir, who promptly cuffed his eyes and clasped Harry's arm.
"No matter what you may think Boromir, fighting with you has been an honour," Harry said, attaching his wand to the sword of Gryffindor and gravely saluting him with it.
"And you'll be needing this," Harry said, handing him his shield
"The honour is all mine." Boromir said, smiling as he strapped on the shield.
Harry grinned savagely. "Let's go kill some orcs."
Merry and Pippin had been distracting the Uruk-Hai, wearing crude plate armour with the sign of the white hand upon it, but had only been able to run so far. They drew their swords as an enormous axe wielding Uruk bore down on them. As it drew closer, its head suddenly fell off, removed by an unnatural invisible blade. The Hobbits turned, looking towards their saviours who had arrived in the nick of time.
Harry and Boromir jumped into the fray with a shared roar, and the two began cutting down Uruk's left, right and centre, Harry firing a selection of spells down the blade of his sword, which flashed defiantly in the sunlight. But no matter how many were cut down, and many were, there were still too many. Harry cleared space for himself with a quick series of depulso's and impedimenta', then used his left hand to grab the Horn of Gondor from Boromir's belt and blow on it sharply and inexpertly three times. A few moments later he did so again, then shoved it through his belt and continued fighting ferociously, gutting three Uruk's in quick succession, tripping another and leaving it for the Hobbit's to dispatch.
"Just getting some reinforcements!" He called to Boromir over the roar of battle.
"Sounds good to me!" The Gondorian said, attacking with a new ferocity. It was at that moment he was hit in the chest by an arrow, and staggered.
Harry looked on in shocked silence for a moment, and then went cold. He whipped his wand-sword in a semi-circle, using the same thin beam of light that cut through orcs so well in Moria. He noted coolly that the Sword of Gryffindor seemed to make the fire rather hotter. Space cleared, he pointed his sword at the leading Uruk, who was also the designated archer. He had another arrow drawn and loosed. Harry deflected it with an absent minded protego, and glared at the creature, which snarled in frustration.
"Shoot this, you evil son of a bitch: Avada Kedavra." Harry said coldly. The legendary beam of cold green light flew from his wand, down the sword and straight into the chest of the Uruk. He collapsed without a word or hesitation, dropping his bow. Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli, who had just arrived and watched the lethal green light kill the Uruk leader in the space of a heartbeat. Aragorn winced. Harry had mentioned something about a green light that instantly killed, and it had not been connected to anything good.
"Elendil!" Aragorn bellowed, whirling Andúril, which flashed in the sun.
"Baruk Khazad, Khazad Ai-Menu!" Gimli added, while Legolas called his own war cry.
"Eryn Lasgalen!"
"You lot are late! Ow! Fuck that hurt, you bastard!" Harry said with a grin, then beheaded the Uruk to whom the second part of the sentence was directed, who had caught him off-guard while he was trying to cover Boromir's flank as well as himself, and deep into his right arm. Harry had switched to his left, with which he was doing reasonably well.
"You know how it is, you kill one Orc and you have to fight another and another, and then you are late for everything thereafter," Legolas said lightly, firing arrows at the remaining Uruk's. Gimli and Aragorn killed all those that continued to charge.
Then Harry stumbled, barely deflecting a clumsy slash, and cried out as only his armour saved him from being gutted, deflecting the blow to his right leg. He hit the ground with a thump, then yelled as the Uruk's surged past him, and the wounded Boromir, taking Merry and Pippin, and stepping on his wounded arm and leg in the process. Legolas managed to deter any orcs trying to kill Harry as he lay helpless, but they were powerless to stop the Uruk's escaping with the Hobbits.
With a quick look after the now retreating Uruk's, any that might have stayed put off by the way the deadly threesome had cut through their numbers, Aragorn ran over to Harry, who was tapping his wounds with his wand, healing them slowly but visibly. He winced, looked up and said, "See to Boromir. I'll be fine."
"They've taken them, I've failed. I tried to take the Ring from Frodo, Aragorn, it broke me." Boromir said, in the short sharp manner of those in immense pain.
"Lie still Boromir. You have regained your honour." Aragorn said, and began to examine the wound. It was nasty, but if dealt with quickly, non-lethal. It hadn't hit his heart, thank Eru, but was still a little close for comfort. Harry, using his sword for a crutch, limped over, and without a word, summoned the arrow from Boromir's chest, then tapped it and muttered something.
"It should be fine, but it'll be a little weak for a while." Harry said, teeth gritted, then collapsed.
"Healing." He explained. "It really takes it out of you. We don't have time to rest, I've got some miruvor in my pack. I stole it when Elrond wasn't looking." With an immense effort he lifted himself up, and used Aragorn to support himself. Wearily he waved his wand at Boromir and levitated him.
"Hey!" Boromir said, still a little surprised he was alive.
"It's quicker this way, come on." Harry said. With a few false starts and some wincing, they made it to the camp. Harry summoned the ill-gotten Miruvor and took a deep drink, then handed it to Boromir, drank deeply. Harry noted that one of the boats was missing.
"Frodo and Sam have gone haven't they?" He said quietly.
Legolas grabbed one of the boats and pushed it out onto the water. "Come on we must follow them!"
"No. We have taken the Ringbearer as far as we can, much as it pains me to say it. If we followed them, the Ring would take us all one by one." Harry said dully.
"Then the quest has failed." Gimli said, sitting down heavily.
"No." Aragorn said softly. The rest turned to him. "We have two hobbits to recover."
"How will we catch the Orc's now?" Legolas said.
Harry smirked. "One of the advantages of being a wizard is that you learn to prepare for everything." And from out of his pack he summoned his shrunken Firebolt. He resized and kicked off with his stronger leg to stunned looks from the Fellowship.
"Another advantage is that we can fly." Harry remarked.
Aragorn smiled grimly. "Let's go hunt some Orc."
"Yes!" Gimli said, standing up.
Boromir and Legolas stood, as Harry shrunk his pack and pocketed it, extinguishing the fire.
"Let's get to work." He said, and the remains of the Fellowship followed their smallest members. The Fellowship was bowed, but not broken, not so long as ties of friendship existed between them.
Blimey that was a long one! Okay, who wants me to continue following Frodo and Sam, who, save for some dialogue are going to be utterly unaffected by Harry's presence, and I would essentially be endlessly quoting the script, or just follow the 5 Hunters (Harry, Aragorn, Legolas, Boromir and Gimli)?
Please click the not so little button below and tell me what you think.