Standard disclaimer: I own nothing in regards to Harry Potter or The Hobbit. All properties therein are those of their creators. I am only a writer working on my skills with worlds and characters that I love.

Note: For anyone thinking Luna is oddly forward in this chapter, I'll remind you that that is kind of who she is in Harry Potter. Also, she was the one to put the moves on Harry, not the other way around.

Chapter Six - Rivendell and The Council

Elrond stared unbelievingly at the sight before him. Over one hundred dead goblins and one orc commander lay sprawled on the field before him and his men. That was not so shocking as in his very long lifetime he had seen thousands of the little blighters dead on one battlefield or another. No, the shocking thing was the man that had saved the life of himself and his men. He was lifting the fully armored orc with one hand, as if it were nothing, and clamping his teeth around its throat, his own bulging with the clear sign of his consumption of its blood.

His first thought went back to the great beast Thuringwethil, Sauron's herald, but that was preposterous. She had been undoubtedly female, and would not have been caught dead outside during the day. Cloud cover or no. Furthermore, this man was different in several ways. His skin was incredibly pale, eyes red, and he had four fangs that his keen eyes could see puncturing his captive's throat. Thuringwethil had taken the form of a normal, albeit beautiful, woman until her form had turned monstrous, and she had only had two fangs. No, this was something new.

His thoughts were interrupted however as the mystery man dropped his burden unceremoniously to the dirt, licked his lips, and turned to face the staring crowd of elves. Ten of which had actually notched arrows and aimed them at him. He did not look impressed.

"Is this how you thank someone for saving your lives?" He asked crossly before sheathing his very familiar looking sword back into his belt.

Elrond immediately waved the elves down. "Lower your arrows."

"But sir!"

"No buts. We'd have died if not for him. Each of us owes this man a life debt and I will see you hold to it!"

"Yes sir!" they all intoned.

The elf commander gave orders for them all to return to their barracks and made his way over to the savior of his people, stopping only a couple feet away before offering his arm. "Greetings, traveler. I am Elrond Half-Elven and I thank you for the aid you provided in this battle."

Harry eyed the arm to make sure the vambrace was clear of silver and then clasped it with his own. "Harry Darktide. You are welcome." Internally Harry was giving Luna a spectral high five. What were the odds of him literally saving the ass of the man they needed to translate their map.

"How can I ever repay you for this? If it is within my power I will grant you anything I'm able."

Harry laughed out loud at that, much to the confusion of Elrond. "You're centuries old and still give open ended offers like that? Damn dude, people could take advantage… like I will. Anyway if you're offering then I'll take four things."

Elrond raised a brow. This human was quite interesting. He reminded him of someone, he just couldn't think of who at the moment. "Name them."

"First, no matter what I say or do in the future, no matter how annoying I may be, you must always remember that you live because of me."

The elf was rather surprised. Why that of all things? "That should be no problem. My kind take a life debt very seriously after all. But why?"

Harry smirked. "I've been told I'm quite vexing and I want to make sure you won't try to kill me later. I mean, you probably wouldn't succeed, but the attempt would be troublesome. Now, the second thing. You handled that sword quite well in our little skirmish. I want you to teach me whatever you can about sword craft in the time that I'm in Rivendell."

"You certainly need the help." Elrond muttered, remembering the way the young man had flailed his sword around without style or skill, before the rest of the words registered with him. "You intend to reside in my home?"

"For only a little while I expect. Which leads me to my third request, you see I am traveling with a company of dwarves. They should be in Rivendell by now or close to it I imagine. They hold a map in their possession with a message inscribed in ancient dwarven runes. I'd like you to translate it without a fuss, and should that translation cause the point of our quest to be revealed you are to take no action to stop it."

"I haven't had a chance to read any ancient dwarfish in over a century. It would be a pleasure. What is your last request?"

The vampire smiled wide, allowing his fangs to elongate past his lips. "I'd like a taste of your blood."

At that the elf lord did hesitate. He'd heard tales of dark deeds that could be done with stolen blood. Yet he had promised to give what was asked. "Is there nothing else you could ask of me instead?"

"Nope." Harry gave his smuggest grin and opened his mouth wide.

Elrond berated himself for not doing as Harry had said and making a more specific offer of his gratitude. He held to his word, pulled a dagger from his belt across his palm, and held it up over the gaping maw of his savior.

{Oh! This is like brandy.} Luna noted, savoring the taste of the crimson fluid as her lover's eyes dilated and his mind was suddenly assaulted by a myriad of sights, sounds, scents, and feelings.

Elrond, younger, standing beside a red haired dwarf. "Durin, my brother, I have missed you."

Elrond, training his skill with the sword with an older elf, long of face and strict of tone. "You must twist your torso at the right time to get the most out of this swing, Elrond. Here, watch what I do."

Elrond, standing before the raging fires of a volcano as he is betrayed by one he called friend. "Cast it into the fire. Destroy it. Isildur!"

Elrond, holding an infant baby girl in his arms. "Arwen, so long as I may make it so, your life will be one of wonder and happiness. This I swear."

With a snap of clarity the world came back into focus and Harry locked eyes with a clearly worried elf lord. "Are you all right Darktide?"

Harry waved him off before moving to a clear space and drawing his blade. Taking a few practice swings to get the weight right in his palms he then gripped the hilt in the manner reminiscent of his vision, and completed a series of strikes and slices he'd seen Elrond's master perform in the vision. When he was satisfied that all was well with his technique he turned back to the lord, who was staring at him in shock.

"I was taught that form by Maedhros centuries ago. No one else in these lands uses it. How have you come to know it?"

Harry shrugged and made his way back over to his temporary companion, his sword blade resting casually on his shoulder. "I'd say it's most likely that elven blood gave me the ability to see into the memories of those I drink. I didn't see everything, your life is too long, but I did see enough to be mightily impressed. Different blood has different effects so I've noticed. Perks of what I am. Also, can I just say your daughter is adorable?"

Elrond smiled warmly as he recalled Arwen's face and said, "You may, though she might try to cut you if she heard those words leave your lips. But it seems you have my knowledge of swordcraft down. How will that affect your second request?"

"Knowledge and muscle memory are two different things. I expect you to spar my ass into the dirt once we get back to Rivendell and find the time."

"Gladly." The half elf's eyes had been drawn to the black blade as they spoke, and finally he found himself able to place why it seemed so familiar. "May I see that?"

Not seeing a reason to deny the request (it wasn't like Elrond could kill him on his own) he passed the blade over and the two of them sat cross legged on the grass as Elrond ran his fingers over the steel and hilt. "I had not thought to see such a blade again in my lifetime. Once it was called Anglachel and it was forged by the great dark elf smith Eol. However, it was cursed with the malice of its creator and one by one it tainted the hands of those who wielded it."

"Tainted how?"

"The elf Beleg Cuthalion took it with the king of Nargothrond's blessing to aid his human friend, Turin. But luck of a terrible nature seized them both and in a twist of fortune Turin ended up using it on accident to take Beleg's life during a rescue attempt. Later he had the weapon reforged in Nargothrond and he named the new creation Gurthang, the Iron Death. It was said that though ever black the blade remained its edges shown with pale fire. Though I see no fire now. Later, Turin went on to use this very sword to slay the Father of Dragons, Glaurung. Though again the terrible luck followed and he returned home to find his wife had killed herself in his absence. He followed her shortly after by impaling himself with Gurthang itself. So you see, the tainted luck of its maker follows this sword wherever it goes." Having said his piece the elf lord presented the sword back to its wielder.

Elrond expected blasé confidence, or a severe shutdown of the very idea of luck. What he got instead was a serene smile before the young man literally tossed the heavy sword high into the air and stuck his arm out straight from the side of his body.

"What are you doing?!" Elrond jumped to his feet and moved to push the foolish human back, but a sharp strike to his chest plate knocked him several feet away.

"I'm testing my luck against this sword. You see Elrond, the blade may be tainted with bad luck, but so was I for a very long time. I managed to beat it once, let's see if I can do it twice." So saying, Harry closed his eyes and a few seconds later the sword finally landed with a solid 'Shlck' point first in the ground near his elbow, leaving his arm completely untouched. Though he remained calm on the outside, inside he was fending off an irate Luna tearing into him for being so reckless.

{How could you just do something so stupid!}She raged. {Yes you've healed from all of your small wounds so far, and I'll grant you a crushed skull, but we don't know what would happen if you lost an entire limb!}

"It would be a learning experience for us both. As a magizoologist aren't you the least bit curious what would happen?"

{Hm.} Luna audibly gnashed her teeth. {We will be talking about this later.}

Externally Harry opened his eyes, stood, and pulled the weapon form the earth to stare warmly at his dark reflection in the blade. "Yeah, I think I like this one."

More than a little shaken by such a brazen act, Elrond took a moment to collect himself once more and then returned to place a hand on the vampire's shoulder. "Then take it with my blessing. It was originally from the halls of my kin, so there is none left that may bequeath it but I. Use it well, and may the fate of its former masters never darken your hearth."

"I appreciate that Elrond. So should we be getting back to Rivendell? My friends are probably there by now."

"Of course, it is this way. And while we walk perhaps you could tell me some more of what you are. Calling you human just seems wrong somehow."

Harry laughed at the statement and as their long legs ate up the travel distance he explained the intricacies of being a master vampire to his rapt elven audience. That was until they crested a rise and the full majesty of Rivendell itself came into view. For a while, all the wizard could do was stare in awe at the architecture, the way the structures seemed to have been built with the land instead of on it, and the way the very air seemed to resonate with feelings of calm, acceptance, and peace.

Those feelings were quickly replaced by rage when the new duo entered the front gates and came upon the sight of five dwarves, a grey wizard, and a hobbit being surrounded by the same soldiers Elrond had sent home, their spears and bows drawn in a clear act of aggression.

"What is the meaning of this? These are guests!" At once the weapons were put away and the soldiers hurried to offer apologies before scrambling away. They'd jumped to conclusions at seeing dwarves in their home and none wanted to face their lord's wrath if they could avoid it.

Harry couldn't help looking Gandalf in the eyes then and commenting, "Still think interspecies cooperation is possible if the 'dwarves' forget old grievances?"

The grey wizard scowled beneath his beard and admitted, "Point made, Master Potter. There are grievances on both sides that run deep. I understand this well."

Their conversation was broken by a well dressed elf approaching and speaking something strange in Quenya.

In his head he asked "Did you get that, Love?"

{Sorry Harry, I'm still learning Quenya. No one in your group speaks it. Could you ask Elrond to speak more so I can piece it together?}

"Perhaps."

"What did he say!" Dwalin raged, his hammer drawn in his fist, "Did he offer us insult!?"

Gandalf stomped his staff on the ground to quiet the irate dwarf. "No, Dwalin, he is offering you food."

The company grew silent for a moment before all at once all of them started clamoring their thanks and making their way up the steps to where the original speaker was gesturing. Even Thorin seemed eager for the sustenance that was bound to be provided. So it was too bad five minutes into the meal saw the entire group, Harry included, tossing random bits of vegetable out of their plates and bowls with disgust.

"Where's the meat?" Dwalin asked with horror as the harp players smirked at their collective reactions.

Harry, taking pity on his own taste buds and those of his companions waved a hand and transfigured all of the vegetables into steaks so rare they were bleeding on the plates. All the lovely harp music stopped and it became the dwarves turns to smirk as the elves cringed with horror. "Enjoy everyone, but keep in mind that while it looks like steak, tastes like steak, and smells like steak, it is not really steak. You'll still only get the nutritional benefits of the lettuce it used to be."

"Seeing is half the battle, Harry." Thorin smirked before digging in heartily with knife and fork.

They were just finishing their third course when Gandalf and Elrond came into the room, talking about how the grey wizard never made a habit of dressing up to par for dinner. Harry decided to rectify that and a second later Gandalf found his usual robes transfigured into a posh black tuxedo, complete with flapping tails.

"Harry please." He locked eyes with the innocently whistling young man and willed his clothing back to normal. "I know the feeling of your enchantment now." Mere seconds later it returned to the tux. Then it reverted to normal again. This process repeated on for the next thirty seconds with the dwarves cracking up, the elven harpists covering small smiles with their long sleeves, and Elrond itching in place as he only barely managed to smother his chuckles and maintain his regal air.

Gandalf was always so… Gandalf. Which meant to say he was always put together in the same way no matter what, so to see him engaging in a magical prank war of wills was quite entertaining. If this was a measure of how Harry normally was with people then the elf lord was starting to piece together why one of his requests had been to constantly remember who had saved his life. Suddenly all itches of humor disappeared and an onrush of horror took over his mind. If this is what he did to someone as old and powerful as the grey wizard, then who knew what he'd do to him and his people if given the chance? That wicked sense of humor could destroy the dignified image of Rivendell!

Deciding to end the squabble before any such action could be taken, Elrond sat at the high table, his presence ending the temporary argument. He looked to Thorin and Gandalf and said, "Harry tells me you too have taken elven blades from the troll hoard. Might I inspect them?"

Not seeing an issue with the request, Gandalf passed his blade over right away. Thorin was a bit more hesitant to relinquish his weapon to an elf, but a kick to the shin from Harry got him moving right quick to follow the wizard's example.

Elrond perused them both with finger and eye before smiling warmly in recollection. "These were forged by the high elves of the west, my kin. Thorin, you are wielding Orcrist the Goblin-Cleaver. Great is its fame and many were its deeds and battles." He handed the sword back to the appreciative dwarf, "May it serve you well." Thorin, contrary to his usual manner, nodded his gratitude for the placing of his blade. Then Elrond repeated the process perusing the other. "Gandalf, you have in your possession Glamdring the Foe-Hammer. Sword of the king of Gondolin. They were both made for the Goblin Wars of the First Age. Use them well."

Harry spoke up then, "So just to make sure I have this right, since the swords we three hold are so old, famous, and important, we have your permission to have them?"

"Of course." Elrond said, "Better they be used for their purpose than gather dust."

"Then could you perhaps write up a notation to that effect? Just in case we run into some other uppity elf that could have issue with humans and dwarves wielding such famous elven blades."

"Harry!" Gandalf spoke, aghast at the insinuation in their host's house, only to be stopped by the same elf's raised hand.

"It is quite alright, Gandalf. Though it shames me to say it, there are those amongst my kind that I can foresee taking the weapons away from you, if only to put them in the hands of their own people. They would likely justify them as elven heirlooms and see you as unworthy to even touch them without proper documentation. What Harry asks is wise." He nodded to the younger wizard. "I will have signed documents provided to you three in the morning and my sigil branded into the sheathes before you leave as a mark of my bequeathment."

Harry smiled and nodded.

"Were they truly in a troll hoard? This far south?"

"Yes, on the Great East Road." Gandalf rumbled seriously as he leaned closer to his host. "And I wish to speak to you later on my theories as to why they came."

With that the conversation returned to more light hearted things. Elrond was endlessly fascinated with Harry's dynamic with Luna and how her soul had latched onto his own to escape the pull of death, as well as the limits of his vampiric abilities. For his part, Harry was more interested in how immortals like the elves viewed life and their immortality. He knew he could essentially live forever as long as he consumed enough blood and he wasn't sure what to think about it. Elrond gave him hope. According to him there were some like Thranduil who shut themselves away and chose to perceive decades like the blinks of an eye, but there were others, like himself, who chose to live in the moment and experience life as it happened. To hear him say it, immortality could only change you if you let it, and he had no intention of letting it.

Things wound down eventually and as the sun fell below the horizon Balin, Dwalin, Fili, Kili, and Bilbo were escorted to their rooms and Thorin, Harry, and Gandalf followed Elrond to his private library. An area dominated by an open ceiling, stacks of books, a raised veranda, and a statue holding up the pieces of a broken sword. Odd that.

It was there that Elrond followed through on his promise to translate the map. There had been a bit of grumbling from Thorin, more about the principle at this point considering no one else could read it, but eventually he'd passed the document over. It helped that Harry told him of the elf's promise to not interfere with their quest regardless of the contents.

Elrond held the map up to the moonlight and turned it in a clockwise manner for a few seconds before saying, "This is a map to Erebor. Why would this interest you?"

Harry smirked, a gesture that immediately put the elf lord on edge. Several of his people had noted magical pranks going off in the city from the moment he arrived so such a look could not mean anything good. "Call it an… academic interest."

"Right." Elrond drawled sarcastically before continuing his translation. "This indicates there are moon runes hidden on the map."

"Moon runes?"

"They can only be read under the light of a moon of the same shape and season as the night on which they were written. I'd say fate is on your side this night, as these runes were written by the light of a crescent moon on a midsummer's eve two hundred years ago. It is fortuitous that you came here when you did as that same moon shines here tonight. Harry, if you would?"

The vampire stared at the open ceiling and took note of the light cloud cover that was blocking a portion of the moon. He promptly waved a hand and willed the blockage away, bathing the entire library in pale light.

"Yes," Elrond breathed happily as he held the map over his head, blue markings had now become visible to all. "It says, stand by the gray stone when the thrush knocks and the setting sun with the last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the keyhole."

"The start of the new year." Thorin breathed and looked to Harry, "Brother, summer is fast passing and Durin's Day is quickly approaching."

Harry calmed him with a firm hand on the shoulder. "Worry not, Thorin. We are few and we travel swiftly. Even if we only spend a week in Rivendell, which I believe we'll need to resupply, we still can make it to the mountain with time to spare. Now if we were greater in number, like perhaps fourteen of fifteen, a great deal more time would be lost. We were wise to keep the company small."

Giving the map back to the prince, Elrond intoned, "So that is your task? To reclaim the Lonely Mountain?"

"What of it?"

"There are some that would deem it unwise."

Thorin glared at the taller being, "Are you one of them?"

Elrond glanced at the expectant vampire and sighed. "No. I have sworn to take no action to stop your quest and I keep to my promises."

"Good. I'm off to bed then. Harry?"

The wizard seemed to think about it for a moment before gripping his sword hilt and waving his brother off. "Not tonight. Elrond here has another promise he needs to keep to me."

The elf blinked at that. "Now? Wouldn't you rather sleep tonight and start in the morning?"

Harry drew his sword, the veranda was plenty spacious for this lesson. "I do not need to sleep, Elrond, and we are only going to be here for seven days at most. I need all the training time I can get. Now be a pal and draw that sword at your waist."

The half elf nodded his acceptance and did as requested before turning to Gandalf, "Mithrandir, your rooms are next to the dwarves. I will see you again at breakfast."

And so time passed. For the next five days Harry trained with a non-stop intensity that even managed to wear the multi-millennium year old old Elrond out. He didn't eat, sleep, or drink until his body could move on instinct in the ways he'd seen in his teacher's memories. Around dinner time of that fifth day however, the elf lord called a halt.

"You adapt quickly, Darktide, and your technique has reached a mastery level. Oh if only you had years to spend here the things I could teach you. But you don't have years, and I'm not sure what more I could teach you in two days. Rest now, drink some blood, and reflect on what you have learned. And if it isn't too much trouble, could you tell me why Arwen keeps laughing at me?"

True to his words, the dark haired princess of the elven valley was indeed watching their match and tittering into her sleeve. What nobody knew was that she and Harry had been having quite the conversation mentally via legilimancy while all of this was going on, and they'd actually formed a bit of a friendship over the last few days. He'd been projecting still images of her father's face while swinging his sword and blocking strikes into her head. Needless to say, a clenched up Elrond was quite something to behold. Along with…

"Well it might have something to do with this." Harry turned the half elf's head enough to look behind himself and there, hanging from the small of his back, was a swishing lions tail.

Elrond palmed his face, "How long has that been there?"

"Since we started."

"And how many people saw it?"

"Enough."

"Ugh."

"Remember, I saved your life." Harry sang, earning a fresh glare from the lord.

"So you did. Well, are you ready for dinner?"

Harry's fangs lengthened, "Are you're offering?"

With a quick slice of a knife Elrond's hand was in front of Harry's face and promptly dripping blood onto his tongue. Once more the memories came, but this time with greater clarity. It seemed the more often one drank from the same elf the more skill and knowledge came with it.

"Thank you for the meal." Harry licked his lips lightly and took off toward the main dining pavilion. With any luck his companions would already be there waiting. No doubt they'd be complaining once more about the lack of protein but that was par for the course at this point.

He was partially correct. The dwarves were present, as was their complaining, but Bilbo was off to the side conversing happily with one of the elven harpists, and Gandalf was nowhere to be seen.

"Harry!" Thorin happily hopped off his chair to greet his missing friend. "How was your training?"

"Well I'm no Elrond, but I'd say I'm handy with this blade now. Next troll we see is gonna lose its head."

"Good to hear. Now can you do anything about this dreadful green stuff on our plates?"

The wizard raised a brow, "Careful there, brother. One could be mistaken for thinking you only keep me around to make your food more palatable."

"Well… that and your stellar personality."

Harry burst out laughing and happily waved a hand, transforming all of the lettuce and broccoli into freshly seared ribeye. If the grunts of ecstatic eating were anything to go by, the dwarves were thrilled. Bilbo was not as ecstatic so Harry transfigured his lettuce into a massive potato smothered in butter. The grin on the halfling's face was wide enough to burst a human's head in two.

Discussion was centered around their quest and possible routes to reach the mountain in the shortest amount of time possible. Annoyingly enough, the only route that could get them there before the passing of Durin's Day would lead them through the forest of Mirkwood.

Upon hearing this the harpists stopped and the lead vocalist, a female named Irian approached them. "I am sorry to interrupt, but are you sure you wish to traverse the paths of Mirkwood?"

"Is there a particular reason we should not? Aside from it being Thranduil's domain?" Harry asked.

Irian nodded. "Yes. Nothing of note has been heard from the elves of Mirkwood for over a century now. King Thranduil has cut off all trade, commerce, and contact with the outside world. We believe he still trades wine with Laketown but we can't verify it. What is more, those elves that have gone to see to their kin that dwell in those lands have not been seen since. Lord Elrond sent parties to investigate of course, but they returned before entering the wilds."

"Why?"

"They claimed the forest paths had been cursed, their enchantments made evil."

Thorin broke in then, "Was not it Thranduil's duty, sworn to elf, dwarf, and man to maintain and protect those paths so traveler's might make it through unscathed? I remember distinctly my grandfather praising his duty, calling it the only honorable thing the elf ever did."

Irian cringed a bit at those words. In many ways she agreed, the elves of Rivendell did not have a high opinion of Thranduil after all, but to openly disparage one of their kind in conversation was just not done unless you were of similar rank. "I cannot speak onto his honor, but it was supposed to be his duty to look after the enchantments on the road, and the fact that he has not is troubling for all, especially those that sit upon the White Council."

"How did the search parties describe the paths? How were they cursed?"

"They could not be entirely sure, as the ability to wield magic is rare amongst our kind, but perceiving it is much easier. They saw dark lines and runes etched into the roots of the path, and they believed they were made to scare away game and tempt travelers off the path. Once you leave the road, you will not be able to find it again."

Harry steepled his hands beneath his chin to think on those words. "This is certainly troubling to hear, but we have no other options." Looking at his brother he added, "I will think on this further and try to come up with a solution."

Thorin nodded, "I would appreciate it."

Any further talk was ended however when the elf that had welcomed them all with an offer of food entered the room and addressed the young wizard directly. "Your presence has been requested."

"Really?" Harry idly twirled a knife in his fingers and let his fangs grow past his lips. This elf was apparently a herald of some kind, and his uppity attitude was annoying enough to earn some intimidation. "Where to and by whom?"

The elf swallowed thickly with nerves at the sight of the fangs and answered, "A meeting on the higher plateau. Lord Elrond and Mithrandir are already present."

"That doesn't tell me who summoned me."

"It is not my place to say, milord. Please follow me."

Thorin waved him off. "You might as well, Harry. They'll just keep asking and annoying us if you don't go."

"You gonna be alright without me?"

"What do you think I did for all the years I lived before you arrived? Do you believe I floundered around with no one to hold my hand?"

"Well you are terrible with directions." Harry noted good-naturedly.

"Oh you devil, off with ye." The dwarf prince laughed and the others were quick to join in as well."

As the elf led the way Harry got bored and asked, "What is your name anyway?"

"I am Ronmidialesandir, Herald of Rivendell." The guide stated with a voice full of personal pride.

"Hm. Too troublesome. Imma call you Ronny."

'Ronny' deflated at once. "Please don't."

Harry continued to needle his guide relentlessly until they reached the highest plateau in the valley and he could make his hasty escape. By then it didn't matter if he'd stayed or not at that point. Harry's attention was locked on two specific things before him. The visage of perhaps the most stoic and beautiful woman he'd ever seen, bathed in the unfettered moonlight overhead, and Luna's sudden, ecstatic, loud, and horny, statements regarding her. Damn but that girl could be descriptive, and she had never been shy about stating how she felt about anything, especially her attraction to all genders.

She praised her flowing silver-golden hair. Marveled at her deceptively muscular yet decidedly feminine frame. Delighted in the curves of her body. And finally simpered before the depth of her eyes. Truly both Harry and his woman were enraptured by the goddess presented before them.

Silence stretched for over a minute before an uncomfortable throat clearing from the side broke Harry's daze. He looked over and saw a circular table seating Elrond, Gandalf, and another old wizard in white robes. How did he know it was a wizard? The man radiated the same feel as Gandalf and he carried a staff. That plus the long beard was a dead giveaway in these lands.

Rubbing the back of his neck Harry addressed the woman directly. "Sorry for staring there, my… well I guess I can call her my wife after how long we've been together, was as taken with your beauty as I was. It got loud in my head for a while."

The elf woman smiled warmly and approached to take his hands in her own. "Be welcome and without reproach Harry son of James, and Luna daughter of Xenophilius. I rather enjoyed those descriptors. I cannot say the perfection of my posterior has been likened to the brightness of a north star before, but it is a complement beyond measure."

Luna gasped, {You could hear me?}

"Indeed. Can not anyone else?"

{No, and it's really frustrating. So you don't mind that I was checking you out?}

"Not at all. You are not the first and you won't be the last. That being said, you fascinate me. I have never heard of a soul latching on to another in such a way as yours. Might I ask you some questions later?"

{Of course. I like you. Harry? We like her right?}

"I think so." Harry agreed. There was something just… warm, about this woman. She radiated peace the likes of which he had never known with her very presence alone. He'd never trusted someone so soon but he intrinsically knew that he could believe the words spoken by this ethereal woman. She stood tall, even above him at six foot six. Her body, what was shown through the contours of her dress was slim yet finely muscled. Her hair was so fine a gold that it could have passed for silver in the right light, and the magical feedback he felt pouring off her was enough to make him wonder if he was perhaps standing in the presence of a literal goddess in the flesh.

"What is your name, milady? You already seem to know ours."

She laughed lightly at that, a sound akin to chimes in the wind. "I am Galadriel, the Lady of Lorien. I came to see the new force I felt in Middle Earth, and I am glad that I did. You are very interesting. Both of you."

Any further words were interrupted by another clearing of a throat at the table and this time Harry could track the sound back to the newcomer in the white robes. "Can we begin this meeting now? We have much of importance to discuss." His voice was cultured, aged, and spoke of centuries of being listened to. He was staring at the vampire with a mix of distrust and interest that reminded him annoyingly of Dumbledore. So he decided to rectify that.

The vampire waved his hand behind his back, a gesture that only Galadriel saw with some interest, and a second later the spell took effect. Then the regal women broke her facade of stoicism and started to laugh so hard she bent over from the strain.

The others present looked warily between each other at the occurrence and thus came to the cause of the reaction. Elrond sneezed on instinct and turned his face to hide his smile, Gandalf palmed his face once more at the antics of his companion, and Saruman… was confused.

"What is it?" He demanded with annoyance.

"Harry?" The grey wizard lifted his head to stare at the younger man, "Could you conjure a mirror so that your latest mark can see the damage you have done to his reputation?"

Harry smirked and did as asked, earning a delighted gasp from Galadriel and a shocked look from the white wizard as the reflective surface appeared from nothing and floated lazily over to him. The reflection he saw of himself was far from pleasing to say the least.

His robes had turned into a puffed up periwinkle blue disney princess dress and his long beard had been bound in twin braided tails hanging upside down on either side of his head to point toward the sky. "What is this!" He exclaimed.

"That," Harry pulled out a chair for a grateful Lady of Lorien to sit in, "Is a reminder that your supposed power and majesty mean nothing to me." He pulled out a chair for himself. "Now shall we begin whatever this is?"

"Change me back first!" Saruman exclaimed. The staff in his hand sparking with his rage.

"Oh Harry, you stopped too soon. Every good prank is better with theme music" Galadriel patted his hand on the table softly. "Observe." She focused on the fuming wizard and a trio of harping angels started floating over Saruman's head. "I have to thank you. I have not participated in a good bout of shenanigans in centuries."

Elrond sneezed again, Gandalf smacked his head on the stone of the table (how could the lovely Lady of Lorien partake in such foolhardiness?), and Harry upped the ante by engaging a favorite spell of his from Voldemort's library. The air grew heavy with the power of his will and a second later the theme song for It's a Small World After All started playing in tandem with the angel's harps. He'd compressed the air and atmosphere until the music acted out in a function similar to a surround sound speaker.

At that even Elrond lost his famed composure and started laughing, causing Saruman's rage to fade into a look of depressed resignation. If even Galadriel was disinclined to aid him then what hope did he really have here?

"Your point has been made, creature. Now please, set me back to rights."

"The name is Harry, or Darktide, not creature. I'll turn you back when this meeting is finished, provided you don't say or do anything to annoy me too greatly. Now speak."

"You dare to-"

"I can change your beard to neon yellow. Ask Gandalf."

Saruman looked to his learned colleague and at the affirmation from him groaned out loud. He couldn't risk anymore hits to his professional bearing. What would it say about his character and ability to lead if others ever saw him looking as unkempt as Radagast? "Fine. Fine… Darktide. I will be more professional."

"I'm glad to hear it. Now what is this?"

Galadriel answered him, "We are the White Council, Harry. The advisory council to the rulers of Middle Earth. We watch over this world and act when necessary to stop another great darkness from ever rising to the heights of the last. We have the experience of millennia behind us to aid our thoughts and decisions."

"And what does that have to do with me?"

Saruman said, "Your misguided quest for the mountain with Thorin Oakenshield. It must end, now."

Harry gave the wise wizard the side-eye, "You really want to look like that forever don't you?" As the white wizard blustered at that threat he continued, "This conversation is useless. Thorin is determined to reach the Lonely Mountain. I am determined to see him arrive safely. I am also determined that all who attempt to stop us should be eliminated." He flashed his fangs, "Are you still attempting to stop us?"

His intimidation tactic was stopped by a swift chop to the top of his head via a far too innocent elf lady. "Ow!"

"Oh hush, Harry. Luna said that's the only way to snap you out of combat mode when you're in a mood." She looked back to Saruman, "And you, stop baiting the boy. We had not agreed to halt their expedition yet so such a statement was certainly made in haste."

Saruman was aghast, "But you agreed it was a risky endeavor."

She nodded, "I did. However, I did not say it was without merit or reason. That dragon is a wild card, and even I can feel the darker elements of our world beginning to stir once more. I would not have them enlist the aid of Smaug if it can be prevented. It is high time the beast was dealt with. Furthermore this is the perfect opportunity to investigate Lord Elrond's findings in Mirkwood." She looked Harry in the eyes, "Will you go as our emissary to investigate the paths, and if you should come across King Thranduil, inquire as to why he has neglected his duties for their upkeep and the safe travel of the forest?"

The vampire thought about it for a moment and with input from Luna decided there was no harm. Galadriel hadn't said he had to go out of his way to look for the elfish bastard after all, just talk to him if he saw him. "Sure, but can I get some documentation to the effect of me being your envoy? If he's truly so hostile to traveler's then any bit of security helps."

"You are oddly fond of paper trails, Harry." Elrond commented, remembering his request for the swords.

"Call me paranoid if you like. It has saved my life on more than one occasion. So what else are we talking about?"

Galadriel smiled warmly at Gandalf and said, "Mithrandir has ben trying to convince us all to take up arms against the old fortress of Dol Guldor. He claims a necromancer has taken up residence inside and is actively working to subvert mankind through vile means."

"Sounds straightforward enough. Does he have any evidence?"

Gandalf pushed a bound and wrapped item forward onto the table so all might see it. "I have heard many accounts of the dark creatures there, Radagast the Brown has investigated himself and told me of the necromancer's presence, and he gave me this." Unwrapping the item revealed a dark blade practically drowning the air in dark magic. Saruman covered it almost at once.

"That is a morghul blade." Galadriel noted. "It was buried with the Witch King of Angmar in a tomb bereft of all light. Radagast found this in Dol Goldur?"

Gandalf folded his arms and nodded. "The shade of its owner attacked him. There is only one that could command such evil."

"You speak of Sauron?" Saruman scoffed. "I'll grant you that this is a dark weapon, but there is no proof it belonged to the Witch King."

Curious, Harry added, "Would it help if I told y'all that the sword is almost alive and speaks in the Black Speech?"

"What!" Elrond exclaimed. "How could you hear that when none of us did?"

Harry shrugged, "I'm a creature of the night, this blade was apparently made for someone of a similar style. In the time it was bare to us it tried no less than three attempts to get me to pick it up. Rather naggy sword that was. I imagine it would have attempted to subjugate my will had I done so."

Galadriel frowned, "Only the darkest of creations subjugate the will of their hosts." Turning to the rest of the council she said, "I believe the tale. We must destroy the presence at Dol Goldur."

"I agree." Elrond put in his two cents. "The sword is evidence enough for me."

Faced with the prospect of being the minority, Saruman frowned and nodded his reluctant agreement. "Very well, I will accede to the will of the council. But how should this be done? Ideally we would all go in a group to attack in force but with the way dark forces have been leaving their own territories lately… we also need to ensure the surrounding lands have not been consumed."

"So it's a matter of travel time?" Harry queried. At the white haired man's nod the youngest wizard present reached into his pocket and retrieved four coins. He held his hand over them and when they flashed with emerald light he handed one to each of the people present. "In my old world these would have been called portkeyes. Transportational aids. When you hold them in your hands and say the pass phrase you'll be transported to the location of the lead coin. Conversely the holder of the lead coin can summon you. In this case, the lead is the one in Gandalf's possession."

Fascinated despite his annoyance at the turn of events, Saruman clarified, "So Gandalf could go to the fortress himself while we make sure nothing else in the land has been consumed by darkness, and when he is ready he can summon us to his aid?"

"Exactly."

Having heard enough, Galadriel placed a hand on his shoulder, "Would you aid us in this, Harry?"

Ignoring the squee Luna gave in his head about how dreamy the older elf's eyes were, the vampire answered, "I would like to, but Thorin needs my help in his quest."

"But what if you made another coin for yourself and one for Thorin as well. You could be summoned to aid us in an instant, and return to your friend the moment our work is done."

"I don't know."

Galadriel's eyes were comfort incarnate. "This work is important, Harry. Perhaps for the fate of this world itself."

Harry groaned before putting another two coins on the table and casting the same spell. "I won't promise anything, but if Thorin agrees to these terms I will come when summoned." He looked up at the grey wizard. "I take it you're going to be leaving soon then?"

"Yes." Gandalf ran a hand through his beard. "I will of course see you off at least to the forest of Mirkwood, but then I will be making my way to the fortress. Our journey has just become quite a bit more complicated."