Lotr: The sword of Gryffindors limitations come in sharply very soon. As for who made it, a hint will be dropped in the Battle of the Black Gate chapter.
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In which there is some comedy, much violence and a nascent and hastily thought up conspiracy is easily thwarted.
(): On your review to chapter 13. If there was any sexist/bigoted content, I certainly don't remember putting it in. Could you point out where it is, so I can amend it? Thanks for your reviews so far.
Hermione and Ron looked up as they heard an enormous crackling roar, and saw the flash of silver light that accomplished it. They watched as the first enormous lightning bolt struck, then the next, and the next.
"Is that Harry?" Ron asked, dumbstruck.
"Honestly Ron, who else could pull that off?" Hermione asked slightly testily as she fended off and gutted an Orc. As the vile smell of its perforated intestines rose up and its foul blood began to gush, she restrained, for the hundredth time that day, the urge to throw up. Magical combat she was fine with, this was different. It was visceral, edge of life and death stuff, not smooth flashes of light. Sirius and Harry were in their element, and Ron appeared to be mowing down the hordes with a single minded efficiency, but not her. Still, it was an unpleasant but necessary job.
Ron shrugged. "Sirius?"
"On a broom?"
Ron shrugged again, then set about dismembering an Orc. "Sirius was good flyer in his day."
Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled fondly. Sometimes she wondered why she loved her husband, and sometimes she wondered how she had ever wondered that.
"Uh-Oh. Ships coming up river, and something about their colour scheme makes me doubt that they're friendly." Ron said, looking over at the docks where the black ships of the Corsairs. "And they've got someone waiting for them." He added, pointing at the waiting Orc's, the leader of whom was complaining about something.
"Well, I think we'd better go over and help, don't you?" Hermione said, grinning and grabbing his arm. With a crack they appeared behind the Orc's and started on them as Aragorn leapt off, followed quickly by Legolas and Gimli, then the Dunedain.
"Looks like the cavalry's here." Ron said casually, then stabbed his sword into the ground, sending a pulse of energy that knocked the Orc's off balance, making them easy prey.
"Thanks for that one, laddie!" Gimli bellowed, as began hacking apart Orc's.
"No problem!" Ron replied, just as loudly, as he picked off a Warg menacing Aragorn's standard bearer.
Another crackling roar heralded another lightning bolt, and the recently arrived reinforcements looked on wide-eyed. Legolas squinted, and said slowly, "Harry appears to be whirling the sword over his head. He is the source… but how?"
"Your guess is as good as mine, but I reckon of those Nazgul freaks pissed him off." Ron said, beheading an Orc with a powerful back swing.
"No mere mortal should wield such power, not even the greatest of the elves has that raw power." Legolas said, eyes wide.
Aragorn just wore a crooked smile. "There's nothing mere about that mortal."
"Oh, Aragorn?" Hermione asked, stunning and stabbing an Orc.
"Yes?"
"Why are there a lot of green ghosts?"
After the battle
Harry woke up slowly. He blinked and looked around blurrily. Ginny lay in the bed next to him, and next her lay Eowyn and Faramir. Denethor was in the final bed next to Faramir.
"Accio glasses." He muttered, waving his wand. Then he blinked as the glasses simply rolled over sluggishly. He repeated the spell, putting greater will behind it, and they flew slowly into his hand. He stood up then stuck out a hand to catch himself as he stumbled. After a couple of moments, his balance and strength began to return, but the feeling of power he associated with his magic stayed at a worryingly low ebb. He frowned, reached down for the sword of Gryffindor, expecting a rush of power. Nothing, or at least nothing he could access.
One of the healers came bustling over and said, "Lord Potter, you must rest! You were severely wounded and the amount of power you released weakened you considerably."
"Okay, I will. One thing. Has the Lord Aragorn been down here?" Harry asked easily.
"Who? Oh, the…"
"King, yes. Has he been here?"
"No, my Lord."
Harry's voice took on a dangerous note. "Why?"
"Um, the master of the healers told him that he would not suffer an interloper on his field of expertise, King or not, and the King was taken away to discuss matters of state before he could reply." The man quavered.
"And where is Aragorn now?"
"I-I-In the citadel, my Lord."
Harry reached down, grabbed his broom, and snapped over his shoulder as he left, "Look after these people until Aragorn gets here. Eru have mercy on your master if any of them die. Because I won't."
Harry flew up the two levels that separated the Houses of Healing from the citadel, and didn't bother stopping when he got to the citadel, flying along the corridor to the main throne room.
The doors were closed, guarded by two of the Elite Guard and they looked wary as Harry dismounted. Legolas and Gimli were also standing outside looking mutinous.
"You can't come in, my Lord." One of them said, gulping. They had seen Harry's galvanic display of his magical power. And so had everyone else for several dozen miles around.
"And why not? Why are I and two great lords not allowed to see our friend with urgent news?" Harry demanded.
"The Council of the Lords of Gondor has decreed it. Only Gondorian and Rohirric nobility can enter." The other said, unwisely sneering at Harry.
Harry cocked his head at him. "You know something I was told by a friend of mine?"
"What?" The guard asked with a sneer.
Harry leaned in towards him, so they were nose to nose and whispered, "Use your head. It opens doors."
Aragorn
Aragorn was pacing. The assembled Lords of Gondor were twittering mindlessly at him, and had used meaningless legal jargon to prevent him from seeing to those afflicted by the black breath, saying that the chief healer had it under control. Considering the man's expression when he had asked about Athelas, Aragorn rather doubted it. Boromir was dealing with the defences with Theodred and Eomer, and Théoden was organising the Rohirrim. Legolas and Gimli had been ushered out with loud protests.
He turned as a couple of loud and vaguely metallic bangs came from the doors, followed by a splintering crash as one of the guards came flying through.
"Of course, I should have said that I prefer to use someone else's." Harry remarked after the feebly stirring guard as he strode in, Legolas and Gimli flanking him.
"Aragorn, you're needed in the Houses of Healing. Preferably an hour ago." Harry said curtly.
"What is the meaning of this?" spluttered one of the Lords, stepping between Harry and a relieved looking Aragorn.
"'The hands of a King are the hands of a healer'. Haven't you heard? Or maybe you have, and are intentionally allowing several people important to Gondor and to me to die. Which is treason." Harry said coldly.
The Lord spluttered, "I demand that you leave at once and retract these accusations!"
Harry punched him. Hard. His nose broke as Harry hauled him to his feet and punched him again. "Listen to me you treacherous little shit, if you are responsible for the deaths of people I care about and the woman I love, you will know such pain and terror that the Great Enemy himself would quake with fear upon hearing your tale." Harry hissed, furiously, then swung the terrified Lord into a wall with bone crunching force. As the man slid to the floor, Harry said mildly, "Now, I think we've wasted enough time."
"Indeed we have." Aragorn said, glaring at the remaining Lords, one of whom appeared to have soiled himself.
"Meet us down there." Harry said to Legolas and Gimli, who both looked surprised but satisfied at Harry's display of elemental brutality, swinging onto his broom, Aragorn getting on and looking displeased at the prospect.
Once they dismounted, Aragorn looking distinctly green around the gills, he asked, "Harry, why did you not use your magic? We would have been here in an instant, and I'm willing to bet it would have been more comfortable. You could have dealt with those puling Lords more quickly and opened the door without using one of my guards as a battering ram."
"Most people think it's a bad idea to bet with me. Then they get drunk and I make a killing." Harry replied flippantly, avoiding the second question.
Aragorn stepped up beside him. "What is it Harry?"
Harry walked faster. "We don't have the time."
Aragorn grabbed his shoulder and twisted him around. "Make time."
Harry's face contorted into an angry mask, then smoothed over as he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "My magic. It's weak, very weak at the moment. I think you'll understand why I want to keep it quiet."
Aragorn raised a solitary eyebrow then looked pointedly at the sword. "The sword isn't doing anything either. I think this is one thing I'll have to ask Hermione about."
"Your secret is safe with me. Are you still up for extracting poison?"
Harry straightened to his full height and looked steadily at Aragorn. "For Ginny? Every day of the year and four times each Sunday."
At that point the chief healer came bustling out saying, "My Lord's, you should not- urk!"
This last part was more incoherent vocalisation then word as Harry kicked him viciously in balls and punched him in the face without breaking stride, kicking him in the ribs on the way past.
"The jigs up, traitor. Now if you don't mind, we have work to do." Harry called over his shoulder as the moaning healer curled up on the ground.
Aragorn ignored this further brutality, and began examining the patients, then looked up, his face grim. "They are all possible to save, but Denethor… I fear that he is beyond my help. It is not the power of the Nazgul that harms him, but the trauma induced by the blow to the head and upper body."
Harry nodded, face devoid of all expression as Ron and Hermione appeared with a crack outside on the balcony.
"Harry, why is there a man lying on the balcony clutching his genitals?" Hermione asked as Ron went pale and scrambled over to Ginny.
"He tried to get in the way. Some people in Gondor would apparently rather see anyone who could support Aragorn in his first few days as King dead. They probably wanted to try and manipulate him into being their puppet, an enterprise doomed to failure." Harry said firmly, then looked sadly at Ginny. "It's my fault that she got hurt. She was fighting with me, and the Witch King wanted us both out of the battle, so he poisoned her with a dart." Harry rubbed his face and suddenly looked very tired. "Cue lightning bolts. She shouldn't be here Hermione, none of you should. I should have stayed and laid low in Grimmauld place or something. Then Ginny wouldn't be on the brink of death."
Ron wandered up behind him and clipped him gently round the back of the head and hugged him round the shoulders. "Don't be an idiot, mate. Look how much good you've done! How many people have lived that would otherwise have died? How many lives have you saved? You found Sirius, you've made some fantastic friends…" Ron's voice faded as though he had lost track of what he had been planning to say next.
"What Ron's trying to say, is that in the long run, although your original decision was stupid and impulsive, you did the right thing." Hermione supplied. "Come on. Let's save some lives."
"Hermione, could you please first go and find Boromir, Theodred, Théoden and Eomer? They should be here." Harry asked.
"Of course, Harry." Hermione said quietly, and disapparated.
"Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to do Ginny first. Aside from Faramir she's been up here the longest and is physically the weakest." Harry said briskly, then drawing out a packet of dried Athelas at Aragorn's querying look and grumbling, "You should carry your own supply."
"Ron, hold her down. Aragorn's boiling the Athelas, and I need to remove as much poison as possible from her system. It's a necessary, but painful process, and she'll probably thrash around a bit." Harry said, summoning a cup and gently removing the bandages over the wound.
Ron gulped and moved around behind his sisters back, gripping her shoulders tightly.
"Ready?" Harry asked.
"Ready." Ron said nervously.
"Accio poison." Harry whispered, forcing power into the spell with a grunt of effort. Poison, a darker coloured variant on that used on Theodred and Emrys, flowed sluggishly out of the wound and into the cup. Ginny began moaning in pain and thrashing.
"Why don't you stun her?" Ron bellowed, struggling to hold his sister still.
"Stunning makes it next to impossible to do, I have no idea why, I've tried. I can't even do a numbing charm, the pain's spread over the whole body!"
"Sleeping charm?"
"No, any magic other than a summoning charm messes about with the poison and the patient's body." Harry said grimly, sweat beading on his forehead.
Ten very long minutes later, Harry leaned back and sighed, wiping his forehead and vanishing the poison.
"Is that it?" Ron asked tensely.
Harry shook his head. "Not by a longshot. We've managed to stop the clock, is all."
Aragorn came over with a poultice of Athelas to keep the wound clean, a beautiful , clean and surprisingly minty smell rising from it.
"Ginevra Weasley. Harken to me. Come back into the light, your time is not done." Aragorn said, and both Harry and Ron could feel a thrum of power emanate from him.
"What is he?" Ron asked, puzzled.
"Most definitely not entirely mortal. He's part elf, and a long, long, long way back, part angel." Harry replied. "His bloodline has certain powers, this being one of them." Ron raised his eyebrows and said nothing.
After several tense moment, Ginny suddenly took a deep breath and her eyes opened. Harry was at her side so quickly that he might as well have apparated.
"Hello, you." Ginny said quietly with a soft smile. Harry said nothing, only kissed her on the forehead and beamed, green eyes sparkling.
Ron had enveloped a surprised Aragorn in an enormous hug, then awkwardly disentangled himself, and said in a low voice, "Thank you."
"Harry, what is Aragorn? I was surrounded by darkness, lost and he came and lit my way out." Ginny asked blearily.
"Sleep, my love. I'll explain later." Harry said, and she closed her eyes, slipping into a deep and healing sleep.
Before she completely drifted off, she mumbled, "Denethor saved me, you know. Thank him for me, will you?"
"Of course." Harry said tenderly, kissing her lightly on the lips and walking over to Denethor and frowned. He couldn't see him breathing. Harry checked his pulse, and felt nothing.
"Aragorn!" He snapped. Aragorn dashed over and performed his own checks.
"He is dead. He was beyond my power to save. Even if we had gone to him first, we would have achieved nothing. Maybe if I had not been delayed…" Aragorn said heavily.
"How are the casualties?" Boromir asked, walking in, soon followed by a number of cracking noises and Eomer, Theodred and Théoden.
Harry and Aragorn shared a look, then Harry said gently, "I'm sorry Boromir. Aragorn was dragged off by some Lord's council and kept away from the patients. I think they wanted as many people who could help guide Aragorn as possible dead, and wanted to try and rule through him, something that frankly wouldn't have worked anyway. I woke up and practiced my usual diplomacy, but… we were too late for your father. I'm sorry."
Boromir went white and ran over to his father. "No. No. No." He said, shocked and grief stricken, hugging his father's body. He then looked up, fury in the very lines of his tear streaked face. "Where are they?"
"In the throne room. If you can wait until we've healed everyone, I'll help you beat them to death." Harry said helpfully.
"No. They will be brought to trial under the law of the realm." Aragorn said firmly.
"Fine. We'll beat them half to death." Harry said indifferently.
"Boromir, I can bring your brother out from the influence of the black breath, but you know him best of us all. You must call him back. Harry, if you would remove the poison?" Aragorn asked briskly. Boromir nodded curtly as Harry set about removing the poison from Faramir. This time he was more strained and it took far longer, and after Boromir called his brother back, Harry keeled over sideways with a thump. Ron leapt over to him and gave him a basic once over check.
"He's exhausted, and he's been using too much magic in too short a time. That performance earlier must have caught up with him." Hermione said, as Ron gently lifted his friend onto his original bed, and set about removing his armour, putting him in his usual lightweight black garb. As he changed Harry's shirt, he saw an enormous hand shaped scar that spanned most of Harry's chest.
"What the hell is this?" Ron asked, shocked.
"Saruman's handiwork. Harry and Gandalf fought him on Caradhras and were defeated. So Harry apparated to Edoras. Or tried to." Boromir said quietly, staring at his father's body.
"He arrived and something took a large chunk out of his chest, then I presume he managed to get back." Eomer chipped in from where he was sitting beside his sister. "I never thought she would be so dangerous… I saw her bring down two mumakil singlehandedly, then fighting and with Merry's help, destroying the Witch King of Angmar…." He said in wonderment, looking at his sister.
"Not bad for a first battle." Sirius commented dryly.
Aragorn ran his hands through his hair and said, "I'll have to do this without removing the poison."
"Why, you have three fully trained witches and wizards, not to mention Gandalf, wherever he is." Theodred said, hooking his thumb at Hermione, Ron and Sirius.
Aragorn shook his head as he went to work. "Harry has it down to a fine art. He once told me that he had to modulate the power of the spell carefully to prevent it being sucked from wherever it was in the body to his wand. He nearly killed someone the first time he did it, and spent the next three months practicing on wooden model before he dared try it again."
Hermione and Ron blanched at the thought of causing sudden and massive internal bleeding in either Eowyn or Merry. Sirius just raised an eyebrow and said, "Harry's way more powerful than he ever was at home. Some of that is because he's growing up and approaching his full power, and both his parents were among the most powerful in their generation, but there's something else in equation. The Sword of Gryffindor. And I'm pretty sure it never did half the things I've heard about Harry."
Hermione nodded. "The lightning bolts are the sort of thing you hear about Merlin doing, and there's no certainty he was more than half human, and no one is entirely sure what the other part was."
"The power in it has a familiar feel about, though as to what is channelling it, I have no idea." Gandalf said slowly, having apparently taken tips from Shadowfax in the art of moving silently.
Ron managed to restrain himself from jumping only by dint of long auror training and combat experience. "How do you do that?" He grumbled.
"When you are over 3000 years old, you too may have the ability to move quietly, Mr Weasley." Gandalf said loftily, and added. "I am sorry for your loss, Boromir. It was his time, and he died the way he lived, saving someone's life. He would have thought that better than death in a bed as he reached the decrepitude of advanced old age."
"But… he should be here. I'm not ready to take up the Stewardship, I need his wisdom." Boromir whispered.
"To use one of Harry's many crude but succinct idioms, 'I call bullshit'." Gandalf said firmly, and continued as everyone stared at him in blatant surprise. Even Aragorn cocked an eyebrow as he finished Eowyn and moved on to Merry. "You have been ready for some time. Before you left on the quest, you were beloved by your people, fearsomely loyal to your country, a fearsomely skilled commander and leader of men. Now you have acquired wisdom and humility. Indeed, you are ready almost because you think you are not."
"Riddles. Cryptic and misleading statements. Is it a drug to you Wizards?" Boromir grumbled.
"Don't look at me." Ron said, waving his hands in a warding off gesture.
"I like riddles, but not making them." Hermione said quietly from where she was sitting beside Ginny.
"Fine. Wizard, singular. And it was a rhetorical question."
"I think we should all get some rest. All of us have fought long and hard, and we need rest. King Aragorn has finished dealing with the patients, and I shall send for a guard in case those who seek to harm our friends do not get the opportunity to do so." Théoden said firmly, ushering the wearily protesting group to assigned quarters, with assistance from Gandalf who pronounced it an excellent idea. They even managed to get Aragorn to bed without being forced to stun him, something that was judged a riotous success, but not before he ordered the arrest of all the suspected conspirators.
Treachery, violence and miracles: in other words, a typical day in Minas Tirith.
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