WOOH! Chapter 20! And it's only taken me… 15 months? Sorry this one took a while, I got a bit bogged down.

A relatively quiet interval chapter before the battle of Helm's Deep. In which there is comedy and Theodred feels got at.

Frodo and Sam

The two hobbits were depressed to say the least. They were trekking through the most inhospitable terrain in the west of Middle Earth, with no company but each other and that insane Gollum creature.

"Sam, what do you think the rest would have done if they had been here?" Frodo asked, if only to break the silence.

"Well, Harry and Legolas would have killed Stinker here; Aragorn would have tried to stop them, Boromir…" Sam replied, and then looked apologetically sidelong at Frodo, who winced at the mention of the man. Frodo had told him about the incident, and though he had heard Boromir's genuinely grief stricken apologies, he had still been severely shaken by the man's betrayal. Sam continued, "Merry and Pippin would be scared of and curious about Stinker, and Gimli would probably just stand and watch, or try and kill him. Then Harry would say something funny, or something no one but him understands."

Frodo smiled. "Yes Sam, I suppose he would."

"Come on Hobbitses, the way out is near!" Gollum said, scrambling back over the rocks with a hopeful look on his face. And so the Ringbearer, a hobbit, protected by a hobbit gardener and an ex-hobbit schizophrenic, marched on towards Mordor.

The Grey Company

Riding with 30 veteran Dunedain was something of an education. While most of them did not speak unless spoken to, generally carrying out their duties in comfortable silence, Elrohir, Elladan and the chief Dunedain, a quiet man called Halbarad who seemed to be a cousin of Aragorn, Harry's friend, future husband to the Lady Arwen and heir to the Gondorian and Arnorian thrones chatted happily away, talking of the lands surrounding them, fielding each and every one of Hermione's questions, and telling stories about their own heroic and comical deeds.

In the evening, the Dunedain set up camp, and Hermione started the fires, muttering that Ron would probably set fire to the tents by accident. Ginny provided some water, while Ron helped rub down and tether the horses, wincing slightly. The ride had, as he loudly claimed, bruised muscles that he didn't even know he had. Once this was done, they all sat round to eat, and Ron made the inevitable ill-advised and not thought out comment reflecting on the last time they had gone camping. Before it could devolve into a full scale argument, Ginny sighed and silenced them both, then summoned their wands, gaining a few admiring grins as her brother and sister-in-law glared at her.

"Now you're both angry at me and can't say a thing. You can have your wands back when you behave like adults instead of children. If you don't behave like adults, it'll be the bat bogey curse for you, now eat up." Ginny said firmly. Hermione and Ron turned away from her, and pointedly away from each other, and ate in enforced silence.

"They've always been like this. They argue, then they make up and they're the best of friends again. It's just a matter of stopping them arguing too much, though I think they enjoy it." Ginny said in reply to one of the twins' questioning look.

"How did you come to know the Black Wizard?" One of the Dunedain suddenly asked.

Ginny blinked. It wasn't the first she'd heard Harry be called that, apparently owing to his hair and dress sense, but it still jarred somewhat.

"I met him when I was 10 years old, though I didn't actually talk to him until I was 11 and he was 12, and that was when he saved me from a piece of the evil soul of our local Dark Lord, Voldemort, by fighting a basilisk."

"What is a basilisk?" The same man asked, curious. Ginny paused to un-silence Ron and Hermione and return their wands, then spoke clinically and briskly.

"A basilisk is a giant snake, 60 feet long, and with a gaze that kills all who meet it and venom that is just as deadly. Voldemort possessed me and used me to open its dwelling place deep in Hogwarts castle, where we learnt magic. Then he used the snake through me to petrify people. The gaze only petrifies if someone sees it in a reflection. Once he was done, he made me paint the words 'Her skeleton will lie in the chamber for ever' near the entrance and made me walk into the chamber where he began to steal my life." Ginny said, keeping her voice under iron control as painful memories resurfaced, times when she remembered nothing but awoke as if from sleep fully dressed and with blood on her hands. She felt Hermione's comforting hand on her arm, and squeezed it gently.

After a long silence, Halbarad prompted gently, "How did you escape?"

"Harry. Even at the age of 12 he had an irresistible drive to save people, even if it meant facing down, whilst practically unarmed, a monster anyone sane would have run from for the sake of someone he barely knew."

"So strong it makes him next to suicidal." Ron interjected dryly, eliciting soft chuckles from their audience.

"That tale reminds me of Legolas. He was once charged 20 orcs with naught but one bow, 5 arrows and a fruit knife." Elrohir said with a smile.

"And then Aragorn fought off a warg with a stick." Elladan added.

"No brother that was merely a very persistent and unwanted suitor, not a warg." Elrohir replied firmly.

"She had too much hair, fangs and bad breath. She was as close to a warg as it is possible to be while still wearing clothing." Elladan said firmly, shuddering at the memory.

"The same thing happened to Harry once." Halbarad said reflectively.

"What did he do?" Ron asked.

"Told her to leave him alone politely and repeatedly, explained about his sweetheart," the Ranger said, nodding at Ginny, "then when she said that a sweetheart who wasn't there didn't deserve him, he lost his temper and cursed her with boils." Halbarad shrugged. "They wore off. Eventually."

Ron's eyebrows rose, and he exchanged a glance with Hermione. Once, Harry would have been at a loss for words and moved away from the abhorrent admirer, instead of cursing them, which was rather stretching the definition of the Statute of Secrecies self-defence clause. Admittedly it didn't really apply as everyone in Middle Earth was well aware of magic, and wizards apparently had a well-deserved reputation as mysterious and dangerous creatures. But for all that, this beautiful and savage world had definitely changed Harry. Exactly how much remained to be seen.

Rohan

Harry stood and stretched, then let loose a jaw cracking yawn. Poison extraction wasn't complex, but neither was running a marathon, and the net result of two careful extractions, a small battle and a long flight was a tired wizard. He looked down at his young patient, who was currently dead to the world. The boy was thin with lack of nourishment and the gangly awkwardness of a puppy yet to grow into its paws, but there was a suggestion of latent strength in his build.

In all honesty, the boy reminded him more than a little of half-starved version of himself at what he guessed to be 15, all skin and bone with a thatch of dark hair and striking green eyes. Eyes that held the all too familiar emotions of loss and pain along with a large dose of cynicism. The eyes of someone who had seen and felt far too many terrible things to trust in human nature. Just like his own after Cedric died and the school turned on him. With a flick of his wand he levitated the boy onto Eomer's bed, slipping him under the covers and absently smoothed his hair, gently flicking it out of his eyes.

He then stood and turned, feeling Aragorn's thoughtful gaze on his back, the other having packed up his materials.

"You never really had parents of your own, did you?" The older man asked, clearly thinking about something.

Harry's face tightened. "No. And any father figures I had tended to die." He said curtly, brushing past Aragorn, striding out of the room, calling over his shoulder, "If you'll excuse me, I have an oath about fixing buildings to make good on."

Aragorn looked after Harry, then back at the sleeping Emrys. A vulnerable orphan with no known family and far from home. He thought back to Harry when he had first arrived. His first impression, once he had got past the magic and irreverent sense of humour, was of a vulnerable orphan with no known family and far from home. The description fit both equally well, and Aragorn wondered if Harry was trying, consciously or otherwise to fill the gap in the boy's life and provide a father figure he himself had never properly had. Whatever it was, he thought, anything that could affect Harry's somewhat precarious mental state was a thing to be watched.

When he left Eomer's chambers and turned into the main hall, he nearly ran into Théoden, who nodded politely at him, having divested the excessive furs and changed his clothing, improving his smell dramatically.

"How is the Dunlending? The one who I apparently have to thank for my son still being alive." Théoden asked politely.

"Alive. He had less poison in his system, but he didn't have that concoction of my foster fathers to slow it down, and he is small and malnourished. Like many in these hard times. He is sleeping now, still in Eomer's quarters. We thought that the sudden appearance of a Dunlending in Edoras would cause problems." Aragorn replied dryly as they walked out of the doors, both somewhat wary about one another. Aragorn's royal ancestry could be traced back Numenor, over 3 millennia ago and even had Maiar roots. Théoden's royal line stretched back just under 500 years, though his ancestor's roots went far further. It would be safe to say that he was slightly bothered about a person whose mere existence could quite easily destabilise what precarious balance was left in the West of Middle Earth, particularly the relationship between Rohan and Gondor. If Denethor in his current state of mind heard about Aragorn's presence in Rohan, he might think that Théoden was plotting/supporting a coup against him.

Théoden had not ruled a kingdom for nearly 40 years without gaining a sense for the winds of fate, and they were currently they were blowing due Aragorn. However Fate is a cruel mistress, and her winds tend to be of the kind that pick up and break anyone in range, and Théoden knew he would have to play his cards very carefully if it came down to a battle between the returning heir and obstinate steward. The fact that Aragorn had allies such as Gandalf, Harry, Prince Legolas of Eryn Lasgalen and Gimli son of Gloin, as well as Boromir the Steward's son, who at least would not interfere with Aragorn's claim, meant that such a contest would almost certainly go Aragorn's way. The quiet, wise and somehow familiar man who stood beside him bore careful watching.

They proceeded outside, and were greeted by the sight of a series of small, contained fires that were burning merrily, clearly Harry's handiwork. Harry himself appeared to be busy repairing buildings. Gandalf drew up alongside them, smiling at Théoden's raised eyebrow.

"Master Potter takes his oaths very seriously, lord King. On seeing the state that the machinations of Wormtongue and Saruman had left the city in, he swore to help repair and rebuild." Gandalf said, as Harry appeared in front of him with a crack. To Gandalf's credit, he didn't even flinch.

"I'm enlarging buildings as well. No child should have to grow up in small patches of squalor." Harry said grimly. "I grew up in a small cupboard," he added by way of explanation for his depth of feeling. As he said that, Gimli could be heard barking instructions at some commandeered palace guards, most of who hadn't done much more than stand outside looking self-important for the last 5 years.

"Careful, careful, put the weight bearing beams here, it'll hold up the whole house. No, there, you witless buffoon!"

Harry smirked and said, "As you can tell, he's taken to the task with… enthusiasm. And it achieves two objectives. New houses are built and your guards get a good airing."

Théoden favoured him with a flat and not very amused look, and continued to survey the reconstruction efforts.

"Well, I'd better get back to work." Harry said, turning to walk back down.

"Tarry a moment, Harry. There is something… no, someone out on the plain, who has run into difficulties. They could be bringing vital news." Harry followed Gandalf's pointing finger and shaded his eyes against the setting sun.

"I'm on it." He resized his broomstick, jumped astride it and kicked off.

Théoden blinked and said slowly, "I never knew he could do that."

"Nor did I, until I we had to find Merry and Pippin." Aragorn said. "It's rather surprising at first, but eventually you just get used to one thing about him. For Harry Potter, there is no such thing as impossible."

Théoden chuckled and rolled up his sleeves. "Too true, Lord Aragorn. Come. We must show the people of Rohan that true royalty doesn't just stand around looking ceremonial all day."

Aragorn followed him, grinning as he saw the royal guardsmen nervously bob around the King like bantams around an overly adventurous chick, trying to prevent him lifting anything too heavy for him and any possible liberties being taken by the populace and getting a tongue lashing for their pains. Rohan, he thought with a slight smile, was still a lot of fun. Even if one had the weight of destiny and the fate of the world on your shoulders.

Harry

Harry flew quickly, but not with too much haste towards the dark blob on the plain, which soon resolved itself into two children and a horse that was far too big for them, a small girl on the horses back and an older boy who had fallen from the saddle from exhaustion. Harry landed carefully as the girl let out a frightened squeak. He could sympathise with that reaction. After all, it was hardly ordinary for something to drop out of the sky, let alone anything good.

"Hello, my name is Harry. I am the Black Wizard and a friend of your King. What is your name little one?" Harry said gently in Rohirric, checking on the boy as he did so. Exhaustion and dehydration, as he had thought, the boy must have given any provisions they had to his little sister.

"My name is Freya, that's my brother Eothain, and our horse is called Garulf." The girl said in a trembling voice, full of fear and fatigue, as Harry lifted her down from the horse.

Harry concealed a smile at her earnestness, and replied, "Fine names, all of them. Why do you come here alone? Where are your parents?" And as he asked, the little girl dissolved into tears and wrapped herself around his legs, presumably for something to cling to.

"Freya, listen to me. You've probably heard stories about me. Most of them are false, but there is one thing that is true throughout. No innocent gets hurt on my watch. You need fear nothing. I will take you and your brother to the King, where you can tell him what has happened and you will be cared for. And if I can, I will help you find your parents."

The little girl looked up and with tears in her eyes, said quietly, "Promise?"

"I swear by all that I hold dear. Come on. You and your brother are going to fly."

Harry carefully installed the two children in front of him, and flew at a gentle pace towards Edoras, Freya looking down and giggling, sadness temporarily forgotten.

The return took far longer than the trip because Harry was taking a great deal of care and when they landed, he lifted first Freya, then her brother who he carried into Meduseld.

"Can you go and find the Lady Eowyn, King Théoden and Lord Aragorn? Quickly." Harry said to one of the guardsmen and shot a glance at the two children. "And send someone down to the kitchens and tell them to send something warm up." The guardsman nodded and went to confer with a couple of his colleagues. Harry sat the two down on a bench and to Freya's wide eyed amazement, conjured a couple of blankets.

"Now, I'm going back to get your horse. Sit tight until I get back." Harry said, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly and left. When he returned half an hour later, having ridden the tired and obstinate horse into the city with a lot of inventive cursing in a variety of languages, he saw Eowyn helping the children to eat, with a maternal expression on her face, Aragorn pensive, Theodred now up and about and reflexively gripping the hilt of his sword, sparks of anger burning in his eyes and Emrys, also up and about, looking pale and his expression was unreadable.

Théoden himself sat on his throne, looking weary while Gandalf spoke to him quietly. Then Théoden stood, and he had a brief argument with Aragorn, then Theodred when he backed Aragorn up, his voice tinged with frosty steel. Harry walked in in time to hear Théoden say, "We ride for Helm's Deep."

"Don't we have the advantage in open battle? I can open holes in their formations and your cavalry will go through them like a hot knife through butter." Harry interjected, and Theodred gestured at Harry as if to emphasise his argument.

"I am the King of Rohan. I rule here, not the Prince of Rohan, not Elendil's heir and definitely not the Black Wizard. And that will be an end to it." Théoden said coldly.

"You could not face them in open combat anyway." Emrys said quietly, then looked startled when everyone turned to him, as if he had not meant to speak his thoughts aloud. With some reluctance he elaborated.

"Saruman has many ferocious Warg's and riders to match. You will have enough trouble keeping those off the refugees. If he did not have them, you would have a chance in open battle. With them? Your only chance is the fortress." Then he walked hesitantly over to Theoden and went down on one knee. "I, Emrys Ap Derfel would serve you, Lord King."

Theoden looked at him strangely, then asked puzzled, "Why would one of your people wish to serve me, Emrys Ap Derfel?"

The boy waited a moment before replying then said grimly, "Our chieftains have sold their souls to Saruman. The give him our womenfolk to breed his horrendous monsters, and one of those given was my sister. Also, my mother was of your people. I do not know her name in your language, for she never used it, but my father called her Branwen, for her beauty and her hair, which was black as a raven's wing. And finally, Lord King, you and your house have treated me well, tended my wounds and cared for me. I feel obliged to repay you."

Theoden stayed silent for a long time, then drew his sword and held it hilt first to Emrys and said, "Say the words."

"I swear my eternal loyalty unto you and all your house. I pledge my loyalty until death." Emrys replied, embellishing the traditional lines.

Theoden raised an eyebrow and said, "For your deeds of immense bravery in defending my only son, a man you had no reason to love, against a foe far stronger than yourself, I will give you a title as well. Rise, Emrys the Valiant, Esquire of Rohan. Serve faithfully and well."

Emrys himself looked a little puzzled, and bowed to the King, and said, "Thank you, Lord King."

"I assign you to my son's service. Your job will be to protect him-"

"Which may involve knocking him out if he refuses to retreat or something." Harry said as he walked in.

"That would never be necessary. I have a well-developed sense of self preservation." Theodred said haughtily.

"So says the man who wished to go chasing after Wormtongue as soon as he was coherent. I had to stun you to stop you!"

"I was delirious."

"And the time you chased after 5 wargs with only your sword and a broken shield, no doubt valiantly planning to kill them by sticking in their throats when they ate you? And the time you loudly pronounced that you were single in front of the entire court of Gondor?" Harry said, grinning.

"And when you were 11 you decided that riding an unbroken 3 year old stallion was a good idea?" Eowyn chipped in.

"Or when you thought that asking me for a horse just after you had lost a very valuable sword was a good idea?" Théoden added dryly.

"Or when you tried to court a young Gondorian lady whose father was a noted swordsman and extremely overprotective? Despite knowing all this beforehand and blithely stating that your 'love would serve as a shield'?" Boromir said casually, having wandered in just in time to catch the tail end of the conversation.

"What does courting mean?" Freya asked, all sweetness and bemusement, and Theodred went bright red.

Theodred looked decidedly harassed and mumbled, "I hate you all. I hate you all very, very much."

Harry sidled up to him and patted his head and said "No you don't."

Emrys just stood to one side and wondered despairingly just what mad men he was now bound to serve, and how mad he must be to join them. A smile crept over his face. At the very least it would be interesting to watch.

Théoden's face then lost its amusement which was replaced by a hard, grim look. "Get packing. We leave for Helm's Deep in one hour. Gamling, tell the people to bring only essentials."