Sad Endings and Unknown Beginnings

By Servant of the Shadows

Chapter Three

Memories//Diary Entries

Parseltongue//Dragonspeak

Author Notes

Thoughts

Warnings: Slash, mentions of gore, violence, Mpreg, OOC, AU, crossover, total disregard of HBP and DH, insanity, insanity and a tendency of irregular updates… Think I got them all…OH! Complete ignorance in sexual situations.

~*~*~*~*~

"I think we should get off the road" Frodo said, an odd hue of panic painted his tone and yet none of his companions turned to paid heed to his words. The mushrooms seemed to have consumed all their coherent thoughts. A strong gust shuffled through the road and as it came, the leaves that had rested so peacefully before obliged and danced with the wind. Intertwined with the leaves and the wind, came the shrill shriek that was barley present, and yet it was clearly there.

Panic surged forth once more inside Frodo's heart as Gandalf's voice reminded him once more to stay off the roads, "Get off the road, quick!" came his frantic yell as the shriek came closer. This time his companions paid attention to the ring bearer, so without delay they followed his example and jumped off the road and under the roots that had once belonged to a great tree.

Long withered and with nothing but empty shells remaining, it had unwittingly become a perfect hiding spot. The mushrooms seemed to be long forgotten to the trio of Hobbits as the heavy clip-clop that signaled an approaching rider came near.

With bathed breath Frodo awaited, fear forming a knot in his throat. The sound of a heavily armored foot collapsing against the soft soil alerted the hobbit that the rider had demounted. The small peephole to his side was all he could use to see small parts of the rider. The black armored feet, the horses' decayed hoof and the black blood that still dripped from both figures.

Shuddering at the image, Frodo did his best to ignore the smell. Death, that was what he smelled like, this decayed warrior. The spiders and worms and ants around him writhed in the overload this creature provided them with, that sixth sense that always told them when death was near. Frodo could feel it too, he would be writhing and attempting to escape him too if only he had not been paralyzed by fear.

He could now see the gloved fingers, curling around the withered root, searching, smelling, tasting… The haze that was brought by the ring clouded his mind and numbed his fear. If only by having it on his hand he felt this good, why not try it on?

The top of his finger was caressing the metallic edge as he prepared to slip the ring on his middle finger. Surely, all would be well when the ring was on his finger; right? His heartbeats seemed like a measured tempo, telling him how much time he had to live, how much time until the ring should sit on his finger. One, two, three…One, two, three… One, two-

A second set of cloven footsteps could be heard from the other direction; the wraith, for that was all it could be, started and lifted its hooded head towards the direction of the stranger. Decked in all navy, he seemed to be moving with the wind and in harmony with the world. The hood he wore seemed to shadow all his features except for that overwhelmingly long raven hair.

It tailed behind him like a silken cape and a small beaded fringe could be seen, navy as well. The white stallion he mounted carried a large double edged axe, it was larger than anything Frodo had seen, and a double set of daggers lay at his waist. His appearance and his aura screamed all that which the wraith was not, yet Frodo knew this was not an elf.

The wraith shrieked once more and stood swiftly, fear evident in its composure. Jumping atop the black stallion, it forced the horse to turn on its heel and it flew away as if he were on fire. Frodo sighed and released his tight hold on the ring; his knuckles had turned white from the pressure…

The hobbits crawled from their hiding spot; they could sense that the stranger was to trust. Yet, once they were free from the decayed roots, the stranger was not there anymore. He was gone, as if the wind that had brought him had taken him as well…

"Thank you…" Frodo whispered to the wind as he ran ahead towards his friends.

~*~*~*~

Galloping among the tall grasses, Harry relished in the feel of wind across his face. Sixty years had passed since Smaug's death and the heartbreaking pain he had felt all that time had all but vanished as his world reshaped itself around Idril. She had turned into the center of his world, and so she now flew among the clouds above him.

Her voice was still nagging him to turn into a dragon and accompany her as she danced among the clouds; Harry still refused wholeheartedly stating that he could view her better from the ground. She huffed in annoyance and landed among the grasslands, the castle was only a few miles away and even from this distance the populace could see their return, even if they did not know who they were.

"I can hear their yells from this distance…" Idril said as she pawed the ground nervously, she might have been born here but she could not remember its lands. Leaving behind the collapsed cavern that housed Smaug's remains had been a difficult choice, but it had nonetheless been a necessary one.

"Sixty years… That is what it has taken us to come back home. Our travels have taken much too long, my dear Aranel. We are home once more." Harry said, a knot in his throat.

"Aye." She agreed as she took to the air once more, leaving Harry behind.

~*~*~*~*~*~

King Saphriel had had a long day as it was, the claims of being King Elerossë had increased in the last couple of decades and he was already tired of the countrymen seeking glory. Today had been the last day he was to accept claims of being the Celembrimbor, the First King. And as it was he was busy enough with the orcish problem that had started out recently, as his Elite Commander stated.

"The Elite is seeking for a permit to scourge the lands with flame. The orcs have invaded the land too far in, and they fear for their countrymen." The commander narrated, the fact that they were cousins went ignored as the formal procedure was taken care of.

"I do not grant the permit. If the fires were to run amok the whole fields would burn, causing harm to many of the animals that seek refuge among our lands." Saphriel said; his voice a monotone as to not show his true boredom.

"Now onto the next issue, the monies that were left by Celembrimbor have dwindled to nothing in the last few years. If it continues so, our commerce with the other countries will have to cease. It is my advice to-" Calbrion's words were cut short as the double door that opened to the city was opened. The navy banners that were colored with a black phoenix danced with the wind, the banners of Haleron greeted their founder.

Among the gust of wind and the sunlight stood a man; his deep azure clothing melding perfectly with the surroundings, his raven tresses seemed to reach the floor as they were tussled by an invisible hand. Deep emerald eyes glinted with intelligence and mirth from within the hood and pale flesh could be seen surrounding them.

"Where is King Ephraim? Where is my Grandson?" Harry said as he lowered his hood.

"Your grandson? Surely not, you are barely over seventeen." Said Commander Calbrion, his words laced with confusion, the pale face and beautiful features doing nothing to assuage it.

"Well I could say my great great great grandson, but that would be a bit long now would it?" Harry said, as if admonishing a child. Realization reached his mind as he noticed where the young man before him was sitting. The golden diadem which was engraved with sapphires that rested over his golden locks attested to the fact that Ephraim was no longer king. "So, time had taken him as well… I shall miss him; he was much like Sephias in so many ways." Harry added; slight pain marring his features.

"That is right, time had taken that which it gave, and Father is dead." King Saphriel answered. "And I believe fate has returned you to us, Grandfather…" He added as his hand clutched the oval shaped necklace. Within its confines lay a portrait of Harry and an eight year old Ephraim.

"You have returned, O King of Old." Commander Calbrion said, his voice was filled with awe.

"Damn Laeri and her imagination." Harry muttered as a mention of the legend was given. Idril just laughed from the sky above.

~*~*~*~*~

Laying among the (somehow) still clean bed of pillows that were strewed across his personal space behind the king and the queen (or the king and the king in some cases), Harry thought about that which he had missed the most in his trip. If a sixty year old voyage could be called a 'trip' of course…

The answer to that question was so obvious that he could not resist laughing. His silken robe of course… the comfort of wearing nothing but a flimsy piece of silk over his shoulders was the best feeling he had ever experienced. So now he lay in the middle of a sea of plush silk cushions wearing nothing but his precious robe, his mind lost to his own world and the voices of the complaining populace was lost to his ears.

Idril was somewhere above the castle, flying among a sea of colorful scales. It truly had been a surprise for her to reach the place she had been born in and find it flooded with brothers and sisters of hers. So far, in his eyes, Idril was the fairest with her graceful movements and shining scales. Focusing on the matter at hand, Harry concentrated on the secret 'not-so-secret-anymore' meeting.

"Word has travelled fast among the humans we trade with, all the humans of Middle Earth actually. The dark continent of Mordor has been seen to be active in the last few months and many fear the return of The Dark Lord." King Saphriel spoke, his voice low and his face set into stone.

Harry groaned from his comfortable spot in the floor. The men, whom were sitting around the throne in a grand round table, turned at the startling sound. "Well hell, there's another one here too?!" He muttered darkly, already knowing which Dark Lord they spoke of.

"Yes, indeed. Sauron had been defeated three thousand years ago, yet he seems to not know the meaning of death." Commander Calbrion said, his voice was laced with fear and awe.

"Let me guess. There is some kind of jewelry involved?" Harry said in a dry monotone. The men started to mutter amongst themselves.

"Have you not heard the legend, Elerossë? That of the One Ring?" One of the newest councilmen said incredulously. Harry stared at him.

"Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, Ash nazg thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul." Many of the councilmen flinched as the dark language of Mordor was spoken. "One ring to rule them all, one ring to find them, One ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them." He translated. "Do not take me for a fool, councilman. I know the history of this world."

The man gulped and nodded swiftly. "I apologize if I insulted you, your honor."

"That, I am not. Your king is Saphriel, not I." Harry said, annoyance breaking through his impassive mask. "Now, what are we to do with this talk that has escaped the mouths of men?"

"The unicorns have received the news that the elves have mobilized. So have the dwarves and the humans of Gondor. They have all gathered in Rivendell, following the Council of Elrond. Apparently the ring has been sighted and all the information is to be relied on." Mutters broke amongst the men; denial was the most repetitive one amongst the outbursts.

"Silence, we need to think. The noise you are making will only cloud our minds." Harry ordered from 'his-spot-in-the-floor'. Saphriel sent him a grateful glance before he turned to his men once more.

"Harry is right, we must decide what we shall do." Said Calbrion. His fists were set in a determined stance and his jaw was clenched. Harry eyed him with appreciation, he was truly a warrior. "I say we lend them our whole military support. Our warriors have played babysitters for too long." Calbrion said, initiating the role he had as a councilman to start a discussion presenting his point of view.

"I say we stay out of it. In the years since its establishment Haleron has never been found, what makes you believe they will now? Our lands have the right to remain hidden; we would be treated like a phenomenon if the children of Numenor were to rise from the grave." Another man said, his white beard not showing the wisdom so many years of life should have given.

"I say we join the meeting in Rivendell, we have yet to get all the specifics. There might not even be a war!" Stated King Saphriel; his voice being greeted by hearty nods from most of the councilmen.

"We might arrive there with the intentions of peace, but we hail from a country they do not even know exists, if only in a vague legend that has started at the time of my parting from here. They are most likely to strike us down before our words leave our mouths. Yet, it is true that we do not have all the information to make a decision. War will come, it always does. So do not pressure the issue even more, enough blood will be spilled when the time comes." Harry said, his baritone reaching all of those in the room. By the end of the speech the room had fallen silent; the reason behind his words had reached them. "I say we collect more information, and from there on make a decision that will affect Middle Earth. I already know what I have chosen. In the meanwhile, Calbrion, mobilize the Armada and prepare them for war."

"Who will collect the information then?" Said the youngest councilman, his tone was smug as if he had just made a point Harry could not contradict.

"I, of course. Who else is has the talent and is there to spare?" Harry said as he stood from 'his-spot-in-the-ground' and walked across the chamber and out the double doors. Leaving behind a group of speechless men.

"I guess the meeting is adjourned…" King Saphriel said in a faint voice.

~*~*~*~*~

Up, down, left thrust, right thrust, back thrust.

Turn left, swing left, duck, ankle swipe, fast turn and strike.

Harry breathed deeply as he concentrated in his current task. The giant double bladed axe in his hands seemed way too heavy for him to lift, and indeed any normal man would have already fallen from exhaustion yet the strength given to him by his Dragon Mark made it seem as if he was holding a paper axe instead of the monstrous titanium blade. The variation of his beloved silken robe lay lightly over his arms and moved with a grace of its own.

The long sleeves barely reached his knuckles and they moved with the wind as the string that tied the silk loosely received the brunt of the impulse. Reaching below his boots, the hem was surprisingly impeccable and the shoulders were bare from the silk as his reckless movements made the robe slip from his shoulders and lay at his slightly bended elbows.

Not wearing a shirt, his skin glistering as small drops of sweat covered his chiseled stomach and his tattooed torso, counting the loose navy jeans he did not look like a warrior training for battle. Yet, that was exactly what he was doing.

Dropping the head of his glistering axe onto the dusty floor that served as the Training Grounds, Harry became aware of the audience that had surrounded him. Most of the crowd consisted of armored men, their un-helmed faces showing awe and puzzlement at the fact that he was barely out of breath. Some of the faces in the crowd he recognized vaguely, surely they were those of the Elite that he had been teaching in the last few weeks since his return.

Scattered among the crowd, were some of the children. Their faces were that of pure amazement and without having to probe their minds with legimency, Harry was sure they now wanted to wield an axe as well. Harry smiled at his people before he pulled one of the sharp edges of the axe from the ground.

Slinging it over his shoulder as if it were made of cloth, Harry placed his bare feet over the sand and made his way towards the castle. His training for the day was done; all that was left to do was read the tomes of Fire Magic that he had collected from the Library and rest the day away. Life was good for Harry Potter…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry Potter was currently in his most unguarded position of his existence as his left foot slung over the arm of the sofa, his left hand was slung over the side and caressing the floor with his knuckles yet still slightly gripping the book he had been reading before falling asleep. His other hand was splayed above his head and his chest moved in the steady rhythm of his sleep.

The page of the book could be seen by all those who found their founder and as it was so Saphriel happened upon him as he had been searching for the Celembrimbor. Curiosity had killed the cat and the Current King had always been graced with feline characteristics, walking forward Saphriel turned his head sideways to have better access to the book and the image of a vortex of flame greeted him. Beside the swirling flames lay a title and the king could not resist continuing.

Fire Elementals: Basics and Abilities.

In the many years since the discovery of Magic, many wizards have asked themselves: Why do some of us have a better grasp in some kinds of magic than others? The most accepted response for the inquiry lay in the recent discovery of Elemental Affinities.

Said phenomenon is stated to occur rarely over the pass of many years and those blessed with an affinity are mostly biased in their spellcasting. The reason for the preference lays in the fact that their power varies depending on their affinity and the spells they wish to cast.

Many of the Arts are purely dependant on raw power, which is a know characteristic to those who wield a Fire affinity and even if this fact helps them greatly, the obscure arts that depend on control to function seem to be out of their grasp most of the time.

Fire Elementals are known to have a vast amount of power at their disposal and not only from their core, but once something which contains magical energy is burnt by their flames their magical energy is transferred to the caster. Now, knowing this you may wonder why they aren't the most powerful magic wielders. The answer lay in the fact that accompanying the extra amounts of power comes a weakness.

Water, in all its shapes, dampens their magic in levels that do not seem possible. The sensation of being dumped into a lake to a Fire Elemental has been compared to the feeling of being locked in a dark room with a Dementor. Only one mage has been known to resist the weakness that water represents to a Flame Wielder and that is Harry James Potter.

Along with the powers of being a Flame Wielder comes the ability to have an animagus form that is closely connected to high temperatures or fire. The Fire Whip is also a well known ability that has been wielded by many elementals since its invention by Godric Gryffindor himself. The spell consists on a fiery cord of flame that springs from the hand of the Elemental, once casted it is almost impossible to stop and it is impossible to extinguish. Fiendfire is a Dark Wizards attempt at copying the characteristics of the Fire Whip.

Blaze Vortex is the most aggressive a Fire Elemental has at his disposal, and in many countries the Ministry of Magic has banned this attack on the base that as the fires cannot be stopped unless the Elemental wishes them gone. The vortex is represented as a fiery snake that twists around the casters right hand and once it is completed it is expulsed forth in a parody of a tornado.

The damage that is—

Saphriel had been so immersed in the literature that he had not noticed the fact that Harry had awoken until the second he had snapped the book shut. The sudden movement had caused the King to start and with a small yelp the elegantly robed man fell backwards and flat on his backside. His brown eyes snapped towards the Celembrimbor as he began to speak.

"Interesting read, is it not?" He said making slow movements as if to not scare Saphriel anymore than necessary. "Be that as it may, my old age did not allow me to continue reading. I am, after all, over two thousand years old." He said as he sat up and straightened his robe; the concealing charm prevented him from flashing every living being.

Saphriel cleared his throat as he jumped to his feet. "Yes, interesting indeed…" sweeping imaginary dust from his robes, he attempted to regain some of his composure. The fact that he was failing marginally did not seem to bother Harry as he had stood up and placed the book in his night stand.

"Were you searching for me? Or was it just pure chance that you came upon my personal quarters, in the tallest turret of the castle?" Harry said, half teasingly as he caught the blush that adorned the other man's cheeks. With the change of topic, King Saphirel's head snapped up. All semblance of the comedy was striped from the moment.

"The Fellowship, as the group that has been charged to protect the Ring Bearer has been named, has been seen near the foot of the Misty Mountains. It seems they had eluded our spies and they escaped our view when they left from Rivendell." Saphriel informed him. The gravity of the situation did not escape Harry as he assessed the situation.

"What path are they taking?" He asked, already imagining the worst.

"The Redhorn Pass has been blocked by a spell that had been cast from Isengard, and they know that as well, making the High Pass useless." He responded masterfully allowing Elerossë to make the conclusion on his own. The shadow that passed over his features told the king that he had understood.

"They have taken the passage through Moria, have they not?" At the grave tone in his voice, Saphriel nodded.

"How many days are they from the Capital?" Harry asked urgently as his hand moved in complex movements, items started appearing around him or were summoned towards him.

"A week on horseback, if you push it that is. Two in dragonback, but that would be much too obvious as your target is to gather information not tell them of your presence right away. Your magics would not help you either seeing as a Maia walks with them." Responded Saphriel as he moved out of the way of Harry's frantic packing.

Harry cursed and nodded at the same time, the small bag that appeared in his hand did not seem to be able to fit the sleeping bag, the pillow, the book he had been reading before, a stash of food he had summoned from the kitchen and the vials of potions he had been making for this instance; and yet Saphriel witnessed as the small opening that belonged to the bag was filled up.

The pouch, which was still the same size and roughly the same weight as before, came to rest over Harry's neck. The featherweight charm was apparently doing its work as he felt nothing at all. From below his bed came a ornately carved staff, its long neck telling tales of the rise of Haleron and the sapphire glinted to life as his hand made contact.

The trunk that had been unused since he had put it there was now opened and within he could see his faithful jeans, ones which now fitted him and had been charmed to self-repair themselves and with a weather control charm. Slipping them on, Harry searched for the black tank top that had served him so well before. Once he was dressed, he pulled the black dragonhide boots on and for the first time since his arrival to this planet, he was fully dressed.

All the while, Saphriel was watching as the founder of his land searched for any missing object an amused smile covering his lips. "Do you not think your hair is a bit on the long side, O mighty one?" He said mockingly.

Harry nodded absentmindedly at the ends of his hair, which barely caressed the stone floor. "Indeed," Harry agreed. Waving a hand over them he cut it to mid-calf, the long strands that fell to the floor were quickly banished. "Short enough, your Highness?" He responded in a brief moment of comedy.

"You missed your fangs." He responded, a smug smirk over his lips.

"Right." With another wave the front part of his hair was snapped, his fangs being cut just before his emerald orbs in a straight line. Not lying flat and straight as he had half wished it to, it seemed to be windswept to his left. The beaded fringe was left intact and it still reached the floor. Harry shrugged as he retreated from Saphirel's mind, having used his eyes as a mirror.

Taking the idea of the Kings mind, Harry conjured metallic clips with which he combed the long strands that fell freely over his face and got rid of the separation in his hair. Smiling at the result, Saphriel clapped. "It seems you are ready to part once again, my lord."

Harry smiled at him. "I am not your lord, Saphriel. I am your family, and I shall miss you greatly for you understand me more than any of your other predecessors." He said his voice softening as he spoke to his grandson. "I will see you again, be it months or years from now. Await my return."

Saphriel nodded past the knot in his throat. "I shall, Grandfather." Harry stepped closer and pulled the younger man towards him. The hug lasted more than a minute as Harry came to the realization that he loved Saphriel as a son. "Goodbye."The king said as the hug ended. "May the Valars be with you."

Harry nodded as he swept out of the embrace, grabbing the 'battle-robe' he walked out of the room and down the lengthy flight of stairs, leaving behind a man crying over the memories of his childhood.

~*~*~*~*~

Running across the city and towards the Training Ground as if a Balrog was at his heels, Harry called for his dragon. "Idril, it is time to go. Meet me at the barracks, we are late." He said, forgetting for second the fact that most humans could not speak Dragon and the guttural sounds that escaped his mouth could not have been human. Realizing his mistake as many of the haleronians around him gasped in surprise and puzzlement, he cursed.

The deafening roar above the city told him that she had heard his message. "I come, olden one." She responded to his words.

Reaching the barracks in record time, he searched the horse stalls for his faithful stallion. Nahar was silently standing, awaiting his master as Harry paced around the room searching for the best equipment in the stalls. Once the legendary horse was decked in the navy saddle that had many loose pieces of cloth hanging from it (he still had to find the use for them) and the giant double edged axe was sheathed at the white horses' side he strapped the long staff along the length of Nahar.

Making sure everything was in place and that nothing would hinder or hurt the stallion, he mounted him and walked him at a steady pace across the hall that formed part of the stalls. Once the afternoon sun hit him, half blinding him from his many hours in the dim stables, he searched around him for Idril. The dragon had perched herself within the only empty space within the War Quarter, meaning she had landed on the Training Grounds.

Harry sighed as he realized that she had caused a commotion, none of the warriors could train as she was taking up all the space. "Come, little one." He said once he was within range of the enraged warriors. Lifting his arm in the air he casted a particular shrinking charm that he had modified many years ago, before his eyes the sapphire dragon shrunk to the size of a kitten.

The startled yells of the men around them made Nahar neigh and paw the ground in annoyance, and as the tiny dragon took to the air and drifted towards Harry the men parted and became aware of his presence. "High one" They murmured as he passed.

"Ride like the wind, Nahar. Let Oromë be proud of his stallion." Harry murmured in the white ear before him. The horse neighed in agreement and prepared to bolt.

Flashing a last smile towards the humans, he pulled the deep hood over his features and waved goodbye to the men of his land. It felt like a farewell this time, and Harry was sure that this instance he would return before time took that which it gave.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Having left the grasslands behind and starting the journey across the mountain so he could circumvent around the storm using passages that only he and Smaug had known about, he thought about that which he was leaving behind. The life as a king had always been granted to him since he founded the city out of a small, broken town that the world had left to its own devices.

Thinking back on all the decisions he had made for Haleron, he could not bring himself to regret it. The Fidelius Charm that he had casted so many years ago had started to wither away with the passage of time and it had kept the citizens safe from many of the dangers that plagued the outside world. Haleron was like a paradise within hell, a hidden piece of heaven. The weather never got too warm, or too cold. Plagues did not affect the lands and weeds did not grow amongst the crops. The concept of money was not present within her lands either, violence did not affect the cities and drugs were not used in its streets.

The cavern walls that now surrounded Harry were those of the last tunnel he had to cross before he reached the exit of the Misty Mountains. The morning sun that he could see from the opening in front blinded him for a few seconds. He had not seen the sun in over two days…

The fresh air which ruffled his ornate (for once) hair seemed like heaven to him as it smelled of forests and fresh earth, not like the cavers which smelled like death and swamped air. He took a deep breath as he pulled on the reins of Nahar, indicating him to stop. Opening his eyes, he was greeted by the sight of the Lake that oversaw the Gates of Moria.

Sighing in relief at seeing them intact, he guided his horse across the narrow path that led from the hidden opening of the cave to the lake below. Once they reached the shore of the lake, Harry casted a quick freezing charm on the water. Being the middle of January, the task was not difficult. Walking across the ice in steady steps, Nahar carried Harry across the lake and just onto the shore that was before the Gates.

The riddle that he was sure was there, did not present a problem to Harry as he already knew the password. "Mellon." He whispered and as the double doors that represented the Gates of Moria opened at his command, he sighed in resignation. Not only goblins and orcs resided in these deserted Halls…

~*~*~*~*~*~
"Run ahead, my pretty." Harry said as he nuzzled Nahar's muzzle. "Let no orc, nor Goblin see you. Let no sound escape your hooves. Wait for me at the end of the tunnel." He added as he hugged his horse once more. The horse neighed once more as he turned and ran into the gloom of the tunnels, his hooves not making a sound, just as he had spelled them to.

"You are truly a wonderful beast…" Harry said as he casted a wandless notice-me-not over himself. His staff resting in his hand glowed from within, as if he had stored within. The sapphire fire glanced off the edge of his axe which was strapped across his back. It was not an easy draw, but he would manage.

"They come… and darkness follows." He whispered as he leaned against the stone walls, the corpses round him not assuaging his uneasiness. The sound of stone grinding against stone indicated him of the fact that the password had been spoken and that the Gates were opening once again.

"…He shall greet us with riches and meat that rips right out of the bone. The hospitality of the Dwarves shall be proven to be greater than that of the elves. Welcome companions, to the Halls of Moria." A gruff voice said, his excitement could almost be visible. Harry almost pitied the creature for this was no City of riches, this was a tomb.

"This is no city! It is a tomb!" Another man yelled, still not visible to Harry.

"Goblins…"Said a musical voice that struck something within Harry, but he had o time to dwell on that.

"Quick to the gates!" Yet another man yelled, his voice carried with it an authority that could only belong to a leader and Harry felt he could relate to him.

"Ahh" A shrill yell came from outside. The sound of flesh striking water reached his ears and Elerossë felt like he had gone blind and all he could do was sit in the dark and listen to the world.

"Frodo!"

The hiss of blades leaving their scabbards was the next sound he heard and it was quickly followed by the sound of hacking. "It's no use! Into the caves." Commanded another voice. This one sounded ancient and powerful, memories of Smaug were brought to his mind unwillingly and Harry could not help but feel heartbroken for half a second.

Collapsing boulders… That was what he heard next. "What now, Gandalf? We cannot drag ourselves through the darkness."

"Gather around me… The mines are not what they used to be." Said Gandalf as a dim light was lit. The source of the light came from a small rock atop the staff the old man carried and with a start Harry recognized the man. Gray robes and gray beard, Gandalf the Gray; he who had participated in Smaug's death. Harry clenched his teeth in frustration. Before him was the killer of his Mentor and he was supposed to help him.

The coolness of the scales alerted Harry of the fact that Idril was attempting to sooth his raging emotions, the wild flashing of his staff alerted him of the fact that he had been expulsing waves of aggressive magic. Taking a deep breath, Harry attempted to calm himself.

"Let us brave the mines, for our only escape lays in crossing these wretched mountains." Gandalf said once more as he stepped across the body of a fallen dwarf.

Harry's emerald orbs danced across the Fellowship. Four hobbits, a crestfallen dwarf and two humans; out of reach of the rings of light lay another figure. His stiff stance told Harry that he was frozen in place, and even in the dark Harry could see the golden locks that fell over the lithe shoulders. Harry froze in place as well when the man took a step into the light. Deep sapphire eye greeted his own, even if he was under many spells. He knew he was not truly being seen, but the beautiful orbs of navy stared across the Fellowship and towards him.

Something sparked within him and he felt like he could stand there for all eternity, viewing those eyes that resembled the color that had dictated his life in Middle Earth. "Do not be left behind Legolas, many things slither amongst the dark shadows." Gandalf said from his place in the front of the company.

The spell broken, those eyes left his place and drifted towards the aged wizard. "Yes… We are not alone."He whispered the words only reaching Harry's ears. The double meaning of those words striking deep within Harry.

Okay first meeting. Not as great as I anticipated, but what the hell… Okay so now that the plot has truly started let me clear some facts. Thank you for all of those who reviewed and if you have any doubts or compaints don't hesitate to ask or say! x}

Harry is 2345 years old. If it does not fit in the timeline, screw it xD

He is going to be toping. (hell yeah x})

He has a chibi dragon hanging from his shoulder. (Tribute to Karasu Kagami)

And here is a family tree so you don't get as confused as I was when I re-read it:

Xxx= I don't want to invent a name to be the pair.

Family Tree

Harry--

Sephias--Laeri

Camthalion--XxX Isilwen--Military Man

Finrod the Gentle--XxX Royal Elite… Commander Calbrion

Fingon the Warrior King--XxX

King Ephraim the Just--Male XxX

King Saphriel the Fair-- xxx

Glossary (Elvish)

Elerossë= Harry

Aranel= Shining Star

Celembrimbor= First King.

Fingon=Smaug

Camthalion=Golden Scale

Isilwen= Golden Flower

Enjoy and plz review ^^