A/N: In which there is action and massive amounts of epic. Also, I figured that something good was needed to expunge the clumsy chapter 21.
For all those who get the immature joke further down in an otherwise Sirius and Siriusly Epic chapter (that doesn't count), you get a cookie. For all those who don't PM me for clarification.
Fen Dweller: I must admit that the last chapter had problems (and in my own defence I wrote most of it at one in the morning), and I shall reply to your grievances, as they are fairly stated: One, Aragorn was swept downstream, and was already underwater, making him very hard to find. Two, Theoden doesn't know how close Saruman is to Helm's Deep and wants to get all his military assets behind the walls ASAP, and is pretty stubborn by nature, as well as wary of someone like Harry being undirected and particularly volatile. Harry isn't being particularly rational as he is one, very close to Aragorn, more than a little psychologically damaged by several years of constant warfare far from home, not to mention his troubles beforehand, and he's angry enough that he just wants to lash out. He is also tainted by more than a fragment of darkness, as shown by the temptation of the Ring, and his overriding motive is to keep his friends safe. Basically, Theoden pushed all the wrong buttons at just the wrong time. The outburst horrifies him because Voldemort is characterised by is lack of love and empathy, being willing to kill loyal servants on a whim and regarding all lives as expendable. Killing those around him in a place he loved (the first opening of the chamber of secrets, Moaning Myrtle) pretty much because they were there is an example of this.
Emrys belted him over the head because he is one of the few who is not particularly emotionally connected to Harry (grateful to him for saving his life, but doesn't know him all that well) but knows exactly how dangerous he is, and has a knack for sneaking up on people. Finally, he takes his duties seriously.
The railroading characters into canon part was a massive faux pas on my part, for which I apologize. I was simply trying to avoid the God Mode Sue Harry that plagues crossovers.
Everyone was arming themselves, men and boys, a draft of a few hundred civilians against thousands of blood crazed Uruk Hai. The only professional soldiers were the King's guardsmen and the Fellowship. Most of the drafted wore chain mail that was too big for them, or too small, wielded weapons that were long past their best days, causing Harry to feel vaguely guilty when he pulled on his Gryffindor surcoat and winged helmet, the emerald set in the centre flashing in the torchlight, then buckled the sword of Gryffindor, a sword almost akin to Anduril in strength, to his belt. Harry sighed. Earlier, he had seen Aragorn testing Hama's son's blade, a notched but still sharp instrument of death, and talking to its owner, a boy of 16 at most. Even with the best equipment, hundreds would die. Harry pushed it out of his mind. He had enough things to think about, even if by common consent, his near vaporisation of Théoden had been forgiven and forgotten, and was never going to be spoken of again, as it was judged that such a rage was unlikely to reappear. This hadn't stopped Eowyn from scolding him about not stabling his horse, a scolding he took with reluctant good grace.
As he wandered into the armoury, he heard Aragorn yell at Legolas, "Then I will die as one of them!"
"None but Uruk's will die if I have my way. And I intend to. The fortress is warded, enough to frustrate any arrows they fire and slow their advance, and while they do… I will unleash my fury upon them." Harry said confidently, trying to mitigate the damage to morale caused by Aragorn's pronouncement and Legolas' resigned expression, glaring at both of them. A ragged cheer passed through those being armed and soon they dispersed to their posts, leaving the Fellowship. Harry cast around for Gimli, and as he was about to ask his whereabouts, the Dwarf shuffled into view, wearing what looked like an oversized chainmail dress. Laughter bubbled up in Harry's throat, but he ruthlessly strangled it, judging correctly from Gimli's vaguely homicidal expression that laughter would be a serious mistake.
"It's a little tight across the chest." Gimli said gruffly, daring anyone to disagree. At that moment, a deep horn call echoed across the keep.
"That is no Orc horn!" Legolas said, running to the fortress walls, Aragorn following, Gimli trying to remove the chain mail and cursing. They met Harry there, the latter having apparated to the wall, and was now nonchalantly leaning against it.
"It looks Galadriel has sent crack squad of decorators. She must have heard about the poor aesthetics of the fortress and decided it must be cleaned up as soon as possible." Harry said cheerily, garnering odd looks from those on the walls.
"Are you quite finished with your babblings, Harry? Or shall I wait until you think of something else to ramble on about?" A sarcastic and familiar voice came from down by the gate.
"Haldir!" Aragorn cried happily. "Open the gates. Now." He ordered curtly.
The Galadhrim force marched through the gates in perfect time, armour intricate yet strong, beautiful yet practical, much like the unworldly creatures that wore it. The Rohirrim gazed in awe at these creatures of legend, stepping out of fairytales to aid them in their darkest hour.
Théoden climbed down the steps, Boromir and Theodred following him, as disbelieving as his soldiers, to greet this unlooked for assistance.
"What is this?" He asked, disoriented.
"I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell. An alliance once existed between elves and men. Long ago we fought and died together." Haldir said calmly, then looked up as Aragorn, Harry and Legolas came running down the stairs. Looking at Aragorn, he finished, "We come to honour that allegiance."
"Mae Govannen!" Aragorn said, pulling Haldir into a hug. Harry snickered as Haldir looked distinctly surprised, then happy as he leaned into the hug. "You are most welcome." Aragorn said, smiling.
"Haldir. It is good to see you my friend." Harry said, clasping forearms, as did Legolas.
"You are most welcome, Lord Haldir." Theodred said formally, bowing slightly, Boromir following suit. Haldir returned the bows, and the Lothlorien archers turned in perfect sync and grounded their bows, now facing Théoden.
"We are proud to fight alongside men once again." Haldir said sincerely.
Théoden, Boromir, Aragorn, Haldir and Theodred thrashed out the positioning and soon the defenders were ready. The elves had been placed on the Deeping wall to provide maximum space for their superior archery, Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli with them. Harry had proudly present several dozen enormous sheaf's of arrows that he had taken the time to duplicate, as well as having disappeared to cast some more wards. He had been placed with the commanders, being regarded as the most powerful force on the battlefield, and thus to be used as a hammer, breaking any serious Uruk attacks and raining destruction on the opposing army.
The fortress was utterly silent, save for the occasional creak of wood and clank of metal, as the defenders looked out over the bottleneck valley that was steadily being filled by thousands of Uruk-Hai, all carrying torches to light their way, creating the effect of a sea of light.
Harry smiled slightly as he saw Gimli vainly trying to see over, and briefly considered levitating him, before dismissing the idea. Then lightning flashed, thunder cracked and it began to rain. None moved, but Théoden cast a brief despairing look at the skies, while Harry sulked. He had never liked rain much. The Uruk's marched up to the within one hundred yards of the walls, then began beating their spears against the ground. Harry reached for the hilt of the Sword of Gryffindor, but was stopped by Boromir, who whispered, "Not yet."
Following some unseen cue, the archers set arrows to their bows and drew. The tableau of noisy Uruk's and silent defenders continued until an arrow leapt from the walls, hissing through the air and landing in the neck of an Uruk.
"Hold!" Aragorn barked belatedly, as the Uruk's went silent. Then they began to snarl and bellow, and a roar from their leader sent them charging against the defences.
"So it begins," Théoden said quietly. Aragorn yelled in Sindarin, ordering the elves to aim and fire, which they did, bringing down many Uruk's. Then Harry's wards came into effect. The first Uruk's running forward were turned to dust as the crossed a suddenly visible ethereal barrier. Théoden turned to Harry who grinned like a wolf.
"The Uruk's are extensions of Saruman's will as much as anything else, so that ward will eventually come down." Harry shrugged. "I have others. I recommend you save the arrows until then."
Théoden nodded. "Tell them to hold fire."
"HOLD FIRE!" Gamling bellowed, and the order could be heard being relayed across the fortress.
"How long will it last?" Boromir asked, ever the pragmatic.
"An hour and half at least. More, if they pull back. You can tell the men to stand down and get some food, relax a little." Harry replied.
"How do you know if it will last that long?" Theoden asked cautiously.
In response Harry tapped the emerald set in his helmet, which was glowing slightly. "This turns out to be a powerful channel for defensive magic. I can monitor the enchantment and give maybe 15 minutes of warning for when it's about to collapse."
Théoden glanced at his son and Boromir, both of whom nodded. "Send the order to stand down." Both nodded, and went to find a couple of runners.
"Thank you Harry." Théoden said.
"Hmm?" Harry said, gaze focused on the army.
"For everything you've done. You helped free my mind, save my people. You even saved my son! I feel as if I have not thanked you enough." The King said awkwardly.
"You're welcome; Théoden, but Gandalf and Aragorn did a lot of what you mentioned. And after… that incident, I think we happen to be even on that score." Harry replied, looking at the King briefly before scanning the army that continued to throw itself against the deadly forcefield around the fortress.
Theoden nodded, and just before he turned away to confer with the returning Theodred and Boromir, he saw Harry close his eyes briefly and pinch his nose. Harry opened his eyes, caught him looking, and said simply, "No power comes for free," before looking back at the Uruk army.
Two hours later, the Rohirric and elven soldiers were mixing and laughing, even if their jollity was somewhat strained, Harry suddenly staggered against the wall, cursing. The Uruk's had paused briefly in their charges, then continued with greater ferocity, but the shield had held, and a large pile of dust had formed along the edge of it.
"Tell them to get back to their positions." Harry muttered.
Theodred turned to look at him, and asked, "what?"
"NOW!" Harry snarled, clearly in a large amount of pain, sweat running down his face, and the pale blue dome flickered briefly. Theodred paled, and started bellowing orders. The shield flickered once more, and Harry's nose began to bleed.
10 minutes later, everyone was back in position and Harry let the forcefield drop with a grunt of effort. The Uruk's roared, and charged at the fortress walls again, wading carelessly through the disintegrated remains of their comrades, only to be caught by another shield. This one slowed them to a crawl as the passed through it, and Boromir quickly bellowed, "Fire!"
Arrows rained down upon the slowed Uruk's, slaughter them by the dozen. But still they kept coming. This ward, not maintained by Harry, soon ran out, and the Uruk's reached the walls, and began setting up siege ladders.
Not much later, the battle raged below, like a boiling sea of blood and steel, breaking upon the walls of Helm's Deep. The sheer number of Uruk's had eventually dimmed most of the wards against physical intrusion, but the arrow wards still held, Uruk crossbow bolts, siege bows and arrows breaking upon the wards. Harry now stood with Théoden and Boromir, ready to sweep down and strengthen the defences where they were getting weak.
So far he had only had to intervene once, when a berserker temporarily broke through the lines, and Harry had needed any prompting as he fired a stunning spell at it, cutting down one of its fellows with a well-timed slash of the sword of Gryffindor. He ached to go down and fight on the walls, but knew that if he did, he would be unable to prevent the Uruk's breaking through elsewhere. So he stood and watched, contenting himself with occasionally firing off spells that affected large areas, such as levitating the siege ladders and sending them spinning through tightly packed army like Hell's own spinning tops, carving a path of maimed bodies and corpses, or blasting them with streams of flame worthy of any self-respecting dragon.
When the battle had begun, Harry had cast a slightly irritated look at the skies, and wrested control of them with a few minutes effort, then began to direct enormous awe inspiring lightning bolts at the Uruk's, who could only have been better lightning conductors if they had been made of copper. The bolts carved massive gouges in the earth and killed any Uruk that had the misfortune to be too close, either through electrical shock or the common or garden shock felt by all species when something immense and lethal passes close by. Any fulminologist around would have noted that they were positive lightning bolts, unusual, and especially large and powerful. Not that anyone, particularly Harry, would have particularly cared, merely seeing it as a massive and magically enhanced electrical storm that was making vast inroads in the Uruk army. Survival is generally considered elder to scientific study.
Suddenly a cry went up. "Dwimmerlaik!" and then, "Nazgul!"
Harry paused in his electrifying display looked through the rain, and saw something that made his heart stop. They weren't the Nine, that at least he could be thankful for. They were Dementors. Thousands, streaming down towards the fortress in a river of darkness and despair. A voice was yelling the word 'No' over and over again, and with some surprise he realised it was his own.
"What are they?" Boromir asked crisply, with the precision of a military commander looking to compensate for an unexpected change in the battle.
"Dementors. Creatures that feed on happiness and souls. Monsters from my world, like the 9. How did they get here?" Harry said, anguished.
"Is there any way of stopping them before they break the defences?"
"How, it shouldn't be possible…" Harry mumbled, clearly out of it.
Boromir grabbed him by his armour and snapped, "How do we stop them?"
Harry shook his head, blinked and said, "There is one spell, but I have never used it against so many."
"Try it, now, they are already too close for comfort." Boromir said urgently, looking at the horde of Dementors that was steadily closing the distance to the fortress. As they passed, the Uruks roared and attacked with even greater ferocity, buoyed by the evil that settled over the battlefield in a great cloud.
"Expecto Patronum!" Harry barked, but nothing but a wisp of silver appeared. He tried again to the same lack of effect. And again. The Dementors were closing in. Suddenly, the Sword of Gryffindor began to glow with a gold and crimson light tinged with silver. Almost dreamily he drew it, and crossed his sword and wand in an x shape, light washing off the sword and encasing him like armour.
"What is he doing?" muttered Théoden in a worried voice. Before Boromir could reply, what Harry was doing became apparent.
In a basso bellow that shook the fortress, Harry spoke with a voice not his own. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" The sword and wand flared into incandescent light, and just as the Dementors reached the fortress, an enormous lion issued from the centre of the light. The creature was silver, with bright golden-red eyes, with a flowing mane and claws of the same colour, and it snarled, then charged the Dementors, thrashing its paws right and left and the Dementors fled before its light. Joy and hope filled all who looked upon it, and the Uruk's cowered in terror as the mighty spectral creature passed overhead, roaring defiance and chasing the Dementors far from the battle, then returned to its caster who patted its gigantic flank absently. Soon the creature dissipated, leaving behind a lingering sense of bravery and hope in all who fought to defend the fortress.
Harry turned, and smiled, still glowing. Then he bowed deeply from the waist, and said in that same voice, "Hail Théoden son of Thengel, King of Rohan, and hail Boromir son of Denethor, Captain General of Gondor."
"We are most grateful for your assistance, but may I ask who you are?" Boromir said quietly, unsure as to what, let alone who, he was speaking to.
"A fair question that deserves a fair answer." The being that was possessing Harry said with a chuckle."I am the spirit Godric Gryffindor, original owner of this sword, and ancestor of Harry, whose body I am temporarily possessing. But have you forgotten me so soon Lord Boromir?" The spirit asked with a twinkle in his borrowed eyes. And as he said that, an image appeared, of a tall and powerfully built man with dark red hair in the armour of a Rohirric cavalryman, wielding an enormous war hammer.
Boromir's eyes were as wide as dinner plates, and as he started to stutter, with the words 'you' and, 'how' figuring greatly. Godric raised Harry's arm, a gesture which the image mirrored and spoke gently, "I do not have long in this world, but I will say this. Though my time with the body you knew was short, earned in service to the Valar, I do not blame you, and never have, for failing in battle. It was not your fault, and even if I blamed you, the actions you have taken on behalf of my family - both my non-magical family here and Harry - have more than made up for it."
"Why and how did you come?" Théoden said, taking up the line of inquiry while Boromir was too shocked to do anything but stagger against the fortress wall. He had vaguely known the man who had proven to be Godric Gryffindor in life, and had assigned him to look after Boromir, but he had not associated much with him, other than admiration for his martial abilities and patience with the young and impetuous Boromir, and sorrow for his death which had affected Boromir so deeply.
"My descendant unconsciously sent out a call for help, and with the assistance of the Valar, I answered from the Halls of Waiting, where I had resided under the care of the Lord Namo. He will need sleep, for I fear I have overworked him. When he wakes, tell him that I, his parents, and all his ancestors are proud of him."
And with a sigh Harry's eyes rolled up into the back of his head as the spirit of his ancestor left his body to finally pass beyond the circles of the world, and he collapsed, Boromir leaping forward to catch him having finally regained some measure of his composure.
"Horselords…" Théoden breathed. "I did not know that he possessed such power. Or that such things were even possible."
"Great power or no, he was not ready to wield it." Boromir muttered automatically, still in shock, as Harry went pale as milk and began to shiver as if suddenly bathed in ice. Boromir swore and beckoned two of Théoden's guards.
"Take him to the caves, and wrap him up warmly. Guard him and if the fortress is taken, take him to Gondor. He is one of the few who could possibly have a chance of standing against both Saruman and Sauron if Rohan falls. Go, now!" The two guards nodded and carried Harry down into the inner keep towards the caves.
"Do you truly think we will fall here?" Théoden asked, already knowing the answer. Boromir cast a professional eye over the battlefield. The Fellowship and the Lothlorien elves were holding the wall on the far right and appeared to have no problems whatsoever, though they would need some reinforcement soon. The centre and the left were holding fast, at least for now.
"If nothing different happens, and Gandalf manages to find reinforcements, we will hold. If that happens or Harry recovers before the afternoon, we will survive. Curse Saruman! Those creatures may have been from Harry's world, but they were sent by him. He must have known that either we would fall or Harry would be rendered incapable of fighting for some time. If those creatures had not been sent, we could have held out indefinitely. As it is, we just have to hope Saruman has no more nasty surprises up his wizard's sleeve." Boromir said.
5 minutes later, as if to spite him, the Deeping Wall exploded.
The Caves of Aglarond under Helm's Deep
Eowyn looked up, her sword sharpened and ready to taste Orc blood. There it was again, a clatter of armour on stone. Swiftly and silently she slipped to the cave wall beside the entrance and motioned all the women and children to be silent as she listened carefully. More than one… and they sound like they were carrying something heavy. She closed her eyes and laid the cold, harsh flat of her sword against her face and prayed. Please. One word, but with a whole world of meaning. Her attack would have to be fast, and without hesitation. She took a deep breath, and as the two armoured creatures came round the corner, whipped her blade across at eyelevel, then seeing a flash of green cloth, stopped, just before she took out the eye of a thoroughly terrified guardsman who was currently breathing very fast and hoping that the Lady Eowyn would be so kind as to not kill him or blind him.
Looking at the burden they carried, Eowyn frowned, lowering her sword to the guardsman's intense relief. It, or rather he, looked distinctly familiar. She lifted the figure's face up into the half-light and gasped. It was Harry, who was clearly unconscious, but just as obviously unwounded.
"What happened?" she asked sharply, forcing all her inherited authority as Shieldmaiden of Rohan into six syllables.
"It was very strange milady." One of them, a gruff veteran with a greying beard began, and looked at the other, a younger man, tall, powerful and inexperienced, for confirmation, who merely nodded vigorously, either unable or not trusting himself to speak.
"What was?" Eowyn said impatiently.
"…Well milady, we were holding the wall, and Lord Potter was standing by the King and Lord Boromir, flying into help out a section of the wall when it needed it and launching fire like a dragon and massive lightning bolts at the enemy. Sort of a one man reserve army." Eowyn nodded, impatiently motioning him to continue.
"Everything was going as well as you could expect, until…" here the guardsman shivered.
"Things. Terrible things. Like the old tales of the Dwimmerlaik come to life, but there were thousands! I felt like I'd never be happy again." His co-worker replied, having regained control of his voice.
"Lord Potter looked like he was panicking, and well, if someone that powerful is that scared, how bad could they be? Lord Boromir shook him out of it and asked how they could be beaten. Lord Potter said he didn't know, but then something happened. Something strange, stranger than usual I mean. He had tried a spell, Expecto something, but it didn't do anything. Then his sword started glowing, gold and red, and he drew it and crossed his wand and sword. Then he tried the spell again, but…"
"Yes?" Eowyn said.
"It wasn't him milady. It was his body, his wand, but someone else's voice. The spell worked, and an enormous… creature, the same one that's his symbol, came rushing out of his wand, chasing off the wraith creatures. As it passed, everyone just felt happy, brave and hopeful. Then it, the voice, spoke to the King and Lord Boromir, and then, and I'll never forget this as long as I live, he projected an image of a dead member of the King's Guard, one who had looked after Lord Boromir when he came to Rohan to learn cavalry fighting from the best. I served alongside him when I was little more than a boy. He also said he was Harry's ancestor and had earned a second life in this world as Guardsman Thor or something strange like that. I didn't catch the rest of it, but he said to look after him and let him rest, and afterwards he collapsed. Then Lord Boromir told us to take him to the cave, guard him and wrap him up warm."
Eowyn nodded dazedly, and resolved to get the full story later on. "You two go back up. They'll need every soldier they can get."
"But milady what if-"
"If the Uruk army gets down here, we're all as good as dead anyway. And don't forget that I could have killed you both earlier, and I doubt that the average prowling Uruk would be more dangerous than two members of the King's guard. Go!" Eowyn ordered. The two Guards exchanged looks, and then saluted and made their way back up the tunnel while Eowyn set about making Harry comfortable.
Once she had done that, she left him in the care of a member of the Royal household and held her sword in a low guard. Anything that came down the tunnel would face the wrath of the Shieldmaiden of Rohan.
It was at that point that the caves were rocked by the detonation of Saruman's bomb.
The Battlefield
Boromir stood stock still for a moment, as the entire fortress froze, shocked. Nothing like this had ever happened in Middle Earth. Then Boromir shook himself, swore horribly, then drew his sword, crying, "Rohan, soldiers of Rohan to me! To the breach, defend the breach!"
Théoden who had also frozen, turned and snapped to his guards, "Go with him, he'll need every man." And elf, and dwarf, he added silently.
Soon a muddy, violent and harsh brawl erupted in the breach, Gimli valiantly trying to rebuild at least part of the breach to stem the tide of blood maddened Uruk-Hai, while the remains of the stalwart Lothlorien archers and Aragorn held the breach. Legolas, currently in a miniature hurricanes eye of the battle, cast a look around the battle field. Harry wasn't there. He wasn't up at the commander's outpost watching the battle, nor was he flying and causing chaos.
Boromir was joining the fray below with a large portion of the King's guard and whoever else he could grab in a matter of moments, slowing the Uruk drive enough for Gimli to rebuild enough of the breach to grant some respite.
"Where is Harry?" Aragorn asked, "We could really do with some help right now."
"Collapsed and insensate." Boromir said grimly, "And likely to stay that way for some time."
Aragorn swore viciously. Boromir raised his eyebrows. Aragorn normally never swore. The last time he had let loose his emotions was when they had found the burned pile of Uruk carcasses.
"How?" Aragorn asked, having reined in his temper.
"It was then those… things flew over. Thousands of them, like the Nazgul but weaker. Harry was panicking, Dementors he called them." Aragorn winced.
"I take it you've heard of them." Boromir said dryly.
"They're the reason he used to hunt the Nine on his own." Aragorn said. Boromir raised his eyebrows. This was a line of enquiry he would have to follow later on.
"Anyway, something happened. He tried a spell to fend them off, which failed. Then… it was that sword of his, I'd bet my life on it. He drew it and crossed his sword and wand, then started to glow. Then, well you probably heard him, and saw what happened next."
"It was a wee bit difficult to miss, laddie," Gimli said dryly. "Half the soldiers think Harry is some sort of incarnation of the one they call Béma."
"I'm sure Gandalf while find that hilarious. He has never been mistaken for one of the Valar." Haldir said with a smile, having organised his remaining troops into a defensive line. Now there was something new to tease Harry with, if they all survived the battle.
"Except it wasn't him. It was his ancestor and original owner of the sword." Boromir blinked away a something that of course since he was a macho soldier, wasn't a tear. "And also the man who I failed to save from the wargs in Rohan." Aragorn, looking bemused but concerned, remembering Boromir's tale, gripped Boromir's shoulder in sympathy.
"He said he forgave me, and had never blamed me. He said he couldn't after what I had done for his non-magical family. He also said to tell Harry he was proud of him and warned us that Harry was on the verge of collapse, and then he left, causing Harry to collapse. I sent him down to the caves, where he is under guard and the guards are under orders to take him to Gondor if the fortress falls." Boromir said flatly.
"Let's hope that doesn't happen." Aragorn said grimly. Despite the partially rebuilt wall, wave after wave of Uruks crashed against the defences, slowly forcing them to give ground. Aragorn and Boromir stood back to back in a dance of death, not nearly so graceful as Legolas, but just as deadly, and even the apparently fearless Uruks began to move around them. Legolas was making use of his magically enlarged and very full quiver, firing arrows at a phenomenal rate, each one finding their target. But still the Uruk's came.
As Legolas and another elf dragged Gimli away with some difficulty, a little voice in his head said, look up. Behind you.
He turned and looked up. An Uruk was about to deal Haldir a mortal blow. Legolas drew his bow string back, dropping Gimli, aimed and fired all in one smooth motion. The Uruk collapsed with a gurgle, and Haldir turned, then looked down seeing his saviour. He saluted with his sabre, a salute Legolas returned with a nod, then followed them down the stairs.
"What did you do that for elf?" Gimli grumbled, now thoroughly muddy.
"Saving Marchwardens is more important than you staying clean. Harry can clean you up later." Legolas said dryly, ignoring the unspoken 'if he wakes up ever or before we all get slaughtered'.
Gimli looked up and saw Haldir descending the stairs. "And how did you know he was in danger?"
"In case you hadn't noticed my diminutive friend, this is a battle. Everyone is in danger." Legolas said sarcastically, covering his own confusion. He had heard a little voice in his head and acted on it without query. It wasn't the forces of darkness; they would have made him shoot a friend. So it had to have been someone with the talent of far speaking. Only potentially Harry, who was unconscious in any case, the Lord Elrond, the Lady Galadriel could be included. Any others with the far speaking ability were too far away and had limited range on their power, unless Mithrandir was much closer than they expected. He shook his head to rid himself of the thought. This was something he could worry about later.
A/N: IMPORTANT: THE LION IS GODRIC GRYFFINDOR'S PATRONUS. NOT HARRY'S.
What can I say? I'm a Norse mythology geek and I left enough clues as to the name earlier. Also, from what I've heard about Godric Gryffindor makes him sound a lot like the Thor of legend, though possibly a bit nicer. Aside from the name there's nothing special involved though.