I do not own any part of the Harry Potter or Eragon universes.
I have removed my outdated comments from the other chapters. I didn't think it would make sense to leave them there.
A new milestone with a 100 000 words! Thank you to everyone who is still interested!
Seated at a spacious stone table, Harry kept a small distance from the crowd of dwarves that surrounded them in the dining hall. Meanwhile, Artemis reclined behind him, relishing in the festivities.
"Thank you, Harry," Artemis expressed her gratitude to Harry unexpectedly, causing him to furrow his brows and look at her with a questioning expression.
"Harry, I want to thank you for everything we've been through in the past few months - chasing the Ra'zac, evading Teirm, and rescuing Arya. Without you, none of it would have been feasible. I appreciate having you as my partner, standing beside me through it all," she said.
As Harry's eyes softened, he extended his arm to tenderly stroke Artemis' cheek, prompting her to close her eyes and relish in the gentle touch. Suddenly, a group of dwarves led by Orik flooded into the hall.
All of them were either holding an instrument or pushing a large barrel into the dining hall. They arranged the barrels in the middle of the hall, and in no time, both Dwarves and Varden formed a line to fill their empty pitchers with mead.
Harry stifled a laugh when he saw the dwarves with their instruments. The violins passed over them and he was amazed to see two dwarfs pry up a double bass and a third began to play it.
Assisted by each other, Orik and Baldr climbed onto a barrel and surveyed the crowd below. A dwarf threw them both a full jug, which they caught gleefully. Orik slammed his jug against the barrel, producing a loud noise that echoed throughout the hall.
His long beard quivered as his words resounded through the air with a booming voice. "Hear, Hear! At last, we celebrate as is proper. The Urgals are gone, the shade is dead, and we have won!"
Amidst the cheers of the dwarves and Varden, Orik downed a generous gulp of mead from his mug. "But that's not all!" he exclaimed.
"Although Isidar Mithrim was destroyed in the battle, Artemis and Harry healed the heart of Tronjheim and every dwarf within it! So let us raise a toast today, my friends, for this is a day of celebration, not mourning!"
The dwarves banged the tables in agreement, but Orik wasn't done yet. He raised his hands high above his head. "Let us drink to Harry and Artemis, who have restored our pride, and to Eragon and Saphira, who have rid our land of Durza!"
Amidst the deafening cheers of the dwarfs, Harry's face turned red with embarrassment. Eragon blushed and bowed in gratitude for the dwarves' recognition.
Baldr lifted his jug and draped his arm around Orik, and the two dwarves burst into a cheerful song. Though Harry didn't understand the words of the song, it conveyed a sense of fellowship and heartache.
The dwarves continued their festivities, and the hall was filled with the sound of laughter and song. Harry felt grateful for this moment of respite from their battles and hardships.
Charles and Gedwin made their way through the throng of celebrants, carefully navigating their path.
"Ah, there you are, Harry! You look like you could use a drink!" Charles exclaimed as he settled himself down in front of Harry and Eragon, offering each of them a pitcher of mead.
Harry appeared hesitant, but Eragon was eager to give the dwarves' mead a try. After all, not everyone had the chance to taste the renowned mead of the dwarves.
Harry took a slow sip, relishing the sweet and rich taste of honey as it trickled down his parched throat.
"This is great," Eragon exclaimed, taking another sip eagerly. As a child, he would frequently sit at Morn's tavern and observe Garrow and the other villagers drink until they were drunk.
"Take it slow, Shadeslayer, this stuff packs a punch!" Gedwin warned.
Baldr soon joined them at the table and slammed his tankard on the surface, which caused mead to spill out. "Let the young dragon rider drink, Gedwin! He's still young and must explore his own limits," he exclaimed.
Charles playfully slapped Baldr on the back, causing the dwarf to spill even more of his mead and laugh heartily. Eragon watched in amusement and took another sip of the potent drink, but this time he held back a bit, remembering the pain his uncle had felt the morning after heavy drinking.
Orik joined in the laughter and raised his mug. "To old friends and new!" he proclaimed, and the group cheered as they clinked their mugs together.
As the night went on, more and more dwarves and Varden joined the celebration, and the hall was filled with music and laughter. Harry felt a warm sense of belonging, surrounded by these friendly and boisterous people.
Time was flying by, and Harry began to feel the effects of the mead. He wasn't drunk, but he definitely felt a little lightheaded. He leaned back in his chair and watched the revelry with a contented smile on his face.
As the dwarves continued to cheer and sing, Eragon enthusiastically joined in with their songs, much to Harry's amusement.
Artemis observed as the dwarves wheeled a barrel of mead over to Saphira. "Is it delicious?" she inquired with interest.
"Surprisingly, it is," Saphira acknowledged. She lowered her mighty jaws to the barrel and consumed its contents in three hefty gulps.
Afterwards, she tilted her head up and released a huge flame in the air, causing Artemis to shift her gaze from Saphira to Harry, who let out a sigh. "Orik, could you get a barrel for Artemis?"
"By the beards of my ancestors!" Orik exclaimed as he watched Saphira belch a flame. He then turned to Artemis, his expression one of awe and surprise. "Are you sure?" Orik raised an eyebrow and turned to Artemis, giving her a questioning look.
"Yes," she said, and within moments, two dwarves brought over another barrel.
"Drink slowly," Harry admonished. "We have a funeral tomorrow and I don't want a hungover dragon with me."
Artemis responded by sticking her tongue out at him and declaring, "I'm aware of my limits, Harry."
Harry let out a snort and noticed that Charles and Gedwin were engaged in an intense conversation. Artemis scowled at him, but he raised his hands in a calming gesture.
However, she soon redirected her focus to the mead in front of her. "You worry too much, Harry. Look at her size! Dragons can drink a lot more than humans can," Baldr smiled mischievous.
While Artemis was occupied with her cask, Harry joined Charles and Gedwin at their table.
"And nobody found them?" Gedwin inquired.
Charles shook his head. "No, there's not a trace of them. It's like they vanished into thin air."
"Who are you talking about?" Harry asked.
"The twins," Gedwin responded. "No one has seen or heard from them since the battle."
Harry's brows furrowed. "Did something happen to them?"
Charles chuckled. "I hope so. I've never been able to trust those swine! No matter where they went, they caused trouble. We should be glad to finally be rid of them."
Gedwin's expression hardened. "No one should speak ill of the dead, Charles. The twins may have been arrogant and conceited, but they supported the Varden for many years. We shouldn't forget that."
He took a sip of his mead and grunted. "That may be true, but can we be certain that they're truly dead?"
Harry squinted. "What do you mean? Do you think the twins are still alive?"
Charles nodded gravely. "Aye, I believe so. You see, the twins were assigned a group of soldiers to protect them should stray Urgals breach our defenses. When Irene and I went to check on them, we found all the soldiers dead. Their throats were slit open, but the twins were nowhere to be seen."
Harry leaned back and contemplated the information he had just received. They had suspected since Teirm that there were spies for the king among the Varden, and it would not surprise him if the twins were among them.
Artemis, who had overheard their conversation, chimed in, "But what if they were double agents? What if they had been working with Galbatorix all along and decided to defect now?"
Harry stroked his chin in thought. "It's a possibility. After all, the twins were responsible for probing the minds of newcomers and fugitives before allowing them entry into the Varden. It would have been the perfect opportunity for them to gather information for Galbatorix."
Out of nowhere, a thunderous belch echoed through the room, and Harry quickly dodged to the side just in time to avoid getting burned by a blast of scorching flame. As he looked up at Artemis, he couldn't believe what had just happened. Meanwhile, Artemis averted her gaze, mortified by the attention she had drawn to herself.
The absurdity of the situation struck Harry and he burst out laughing, with Artemis eventually joining in. Despite her attempts to control it, a low growl rumbled from deep within her and small spurts of fire occasionally flickered from her nostrils.
The laughter of the two caught the attention of those around them, and several dwarves turned to look at them in amusement. Artemis finally managed to calm herself down, but Harry couldn't resist teasing her.
"I always knew you had a fiery personality, but I didn't think it was quite that literal," he joked.
Artemis rolled her eyes but couldn't help but grin. "Shut up, Harry. You're not the one with smoke coming out of your nostrils," she retorted.
As the two continued to exchange jokes and laugh together, it didn't take long for Artemis' feelings and thoughts to spill over to him.
As time passed, Harry found it increasingly challenging to concentrate on his own perceptions. His senses seemed to merge with Artemis', and he began to perceive the world around him in a kaleidoscope of colors. Despite the disorienting experience, he found himself thoroughly enjoying their time together.
As the hours passed, Harry grew increasingly tired, but he remained at Artemis' side, reluctant to let their fun-filled evening come to an end.
Finally, the night was drawing to a close with Baldr's attempt at a grand gesture ended in a comical disaster as he tumbled headfirst into an empty barrel, eliciting raucous laughter from the crowd. Saphira, in her drunken state, tried to copy his bow but ended up swaying uncontrollably, causing the sitting dwarfs to scatter in all directions.
Suddenly, she toppled over, crashing onto one of the banquet tables and sending food and drink flying in all directions. The dwarfs erupted into cheers and applause, thoroughly entertained by the dragon's antics.
"I-I think I drunk enough," Artemis hiccupped, a small flame spurting from her nostrils.
Upon hearing a loud growl, Harry abruptly sat up, only to regret it as his headache worsened. He heard a knock on the door and opened his bleary eyes to see Orik urgently trying to rouse him and Eragon.
"Up and at 'em, Knurlgrim! You've slept enough!" Orik exclaimed.
Eragon lay with his head buried in his arms, groaning. Harry rubbed his eyes and winced as his head throbbed. He stood up and watched as Eragon struggled to wake up.
"What's happening?" Eragon asked, his voice groggy.
Orik anxiously stroked his beard. "We need to hurry. The funeral of Ajihad is waiting, and they won't start without us."
Harry pulled out his wand and aimed it at his face, murmuring, "Aguamenti!"
A thin jet of water sprang from his wand and splattered against his face, refreshing him. He rubbed his face with his hands to dispel the fatigue, but his hair remained disheveled.
"I don't think that's helping," Arya commented with a hint of amusement as Harry tried in vain to fix his hair.
He let out a resigned sigh and admitted defeat. "Well, I tried. What brings you here, Arya?"
Arya's gaze flickered between Harry and Artemis, who was still asleep. She approached Artemis cautiously, gently rubbing her cheek. "How are you feeling? I heard about your antics last night and was worried when you didn't show up. Everyone's waiting for you four."
Artemis stirred, blinking her eyes, and carefully turned her head. "I think I'm okay," she murmured softly. "My head hurts."
Arya suppressed a smile and turned to Harry. "Let's go, we need to hurry."
Eragon approached them and gestured towards his wand. "Harry, can you-?"
Harry's impish grin returned as he pointed his wand at Eragon. A two-foot-wide jet of water erupted, soaking Eragon, who flinched and tried to shield himself.
After a few moments, Harry stopped and Eragon was left dripping wet. "Are you serious?" he asked, his annoyance evident.
Harry chuckled and pointed his wand at Eragon once more, conjuring a warm gust of wind that quickly dried Eragon off. "Well, you're clean now, Eragon Shadeslayer," Harry remarked, still amused.
Eragon glared at him once more and then sighed thankfully. "Fine, just warn me next time."
Harry was grinning and about to follow the others when Arya stopped him. She scolded him, "Do you not have any other clothes? You cannot attend the funeral in just a shirt."
Although Harry didn't care what others thought of him, he agreed with Arya. "You're right. I doubt I'll make a good impression with a stained shirt." He picked up his wand and directed it towards himself. His dirty shirt transformed into a white one with lace-up cuffs. Over the shirt, he wore a green waistcoat with silver braid and embroidery, dark trousers, and a black and green cloak which he fastened with a brooch at his neck.
Harry twirled around and waited for Arya's approval.
"That's much better," Arya said with a smile. "Although you still look like you've had a long night."
Harry sighed dramatically. "You can't please everyone."
Arya smirked and her gaze fell on the brooch. "What symbol is that?"
Harry looked down and traced his finger over the metal. "It's the crest of House Potter, a Griffin."
Harry watched as the amphitheater filled with people and echoed with the hushed murmur of voices discussing Ajihad's burial. Seated on the lowest step, Harry and Artemis sat side by side, flanked by Arya, Brom, Eragon with Saphira, Orik, Hrothgar, Nasuada, and the Council of Elders.
Harry's attention was caught as Orik explained something to Eragon, "Ever since Korgan, each of our kings has been chosen here. It's fitting that the Varden should do likewise."
"It's a great honor that the Varden are allowed to choose their leader in the same place as the dwarves. I can't imagine all dwarves would approve of that," Harry remarked to Artemis.
As Artemis glanced at Hrothgar, the dwarf king's expression remained neutral, but there was a glint in his eyes that betrayed his true feelings.
"It's evident that Hrothgar is pleased with that. The dwarf king is aware of the debt owed to his people by the Varden, and now Nasuada personally owes him one," Artemis observed. "With Ajihad's funeral and Nasuada's coronation both taking place here, it will be challenging for Nasuada to extricate herself from the dwarves."
"I hate politics," Harry grumbled under his breath.
Arya regarded Harry with a hint of amusement, indicating that she also saw through Hrothgar's intentions.
"Nasuada will have to prove her strength. Right now, they will need someone strong to lead them," she whispered quietly.
Within a few minutes, the crowd had settled into the amphitheater, and a hush fell over the thousands gathered there. All eyes were fixed on the podium where Jörmundur had taken his place. With arms outstretched, he began to speak, his voice reverberating throughout the halls.
"People of the Varden, we last stood here fifteen years ago, at Deynor's death."
Jörmundur dropped his arms.
"His successor, Ajihad, did more to oppose the Empire and Galbatorix than any before. He won countless battles against superior forces. He nearly killed Durza, putting a scratch on the Shade's blade. And greatest of all, he welcomed Shadeslayer Eragon and Saphira accompanied with Brom into Tronjheim. However, a new leader must be chosen, one who will win us even more glory."
'Glory?' Harry narrowed his eyes and scoffed inwardly.
"We, the Council of Elders, have thought long on this. We need one who understands our needs and wants, one who has lived and suffered alongside us. One who refused to flee, even when battle was imminent."
In a hushed tone, Jörmundur uttered a single word, "Nasuada."
The name echoed through the amphitheater as more and more people whispered it in agreement. Harry was taken aback by the level of respect and support Nasuada had already garnered among the Varden.
"She's more liked than we thought. Ajihad has prepared her well," Artemis remarked.
Jörmundur raised his hands again. It took a moment for the Varden's excitement to calm down. With a final bow, Jörmundur stepped aside, and Arya stepped forward and took his place.
Her night black hair was loose, and her slanted eyes peered through the crowd.
"The elves honor Ajihad tonight… And on behalf of queen Islanzadí, I recognize Nasuada's ascension and offer her the same support and friendship we extended to her father. May the stars watch over her."
Following her on the podium were Hrothgar and Eragon, each giving their approval for Nasuada's leadership.
"If you were to join the Varden, you would be standing up there in Eragon's place," Brom murmured beside him.
Saphira growled in agreement after Eragon voiced his approval and Harry saw Jörmundur mount the podium with Nasuada at his side.
"Maybe," Harry agreed. "But Artemis and I have made our decision."
Artemis bent her neck and looked down at them. Her blue eyes shone in the amphitheater's light. "We will go to war with the Varden against Galbatorix and not rest until his heart stops beating. Whether by claw or sword," Artemis said firmly.
"You will make dangerous enemies if you are not careful," Brom warned them.
Harry nodded and turned his attention to Nasuada, who knelt in front of Jörmundur.
Jörmundur raised his voice and said, "By the right of inheritance and succession, we have chosen Nasuada. By merit of her father's achievements and the blessings of her peers, we have chosen Nasuada. I now ask you: Have we chosen well?"
Harry winced as the Varden roared their approval. With an overwhelming cry, the people gifted their hope to Nasuada.
Jörmundur nodded, relieved. "Then by the power granted to this council, we pass the privileges and responsibilities accorded to Ajihad to his only descendent, Nasuada."
He gently placed a circlet of silver on Nasuada's brow.
"I give you your new leader!"
After the cheers finally died down, Eragon made his way towards Nasuada, who was waiting for him. When Eragon knelt before Nasuada and offered her his sword and his oath, the Varden gasped and roared in approval.
Brom snorted when he saw the faces of the council of elders. Harry smirked wickedly at Sabrae, who looked at Eragon with disdain. For a moment, Eragon's eyes met Brom's, and he looked at him with pride.
Eragon nodded his thanks and they all listened as Nasuada addressed her first words to the Varden.
"I didn't expect that," Brom admitted. "Eragon played the idiots on the council well."
Arya, Brom, and Harry were still seated in the amphitheater while Artemis extinguished a small flame from her nostrils that had flown over them.
"That's right. I had feared for his independence when the Council summoned Eragon. But he showed us clearly that he is not to be underestimated," Arya said surprised.
She glanced over at Harry, who was absently writing unfamiliar symbols on the floor with a stick of charcoal.
"What does that mean?" she asked him curiously.
Harry shook his head. "Nothing important."
Brom leaned forward from his seat, interrupting their conversation. "Let's focus on something important." Harry quirked an eyebrow in response. "And what might that be?" he asked.
Brom rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Quit sidetracking us. I want to know the identity of the wizard who attacked us."
Harry grimaced. "What makes you think I have any information on him?"
Arya intervened this time, her tone unusual. "It's clear he knew you, Harry. He addressed you by your full name," she said, with a hint of bitterness in her voice. She looked at Harry expectantly, waiting for a response.
"You don't have to tell them anything," Artemis said.
Harry sighed. "They have a right to know. Especially when it affects everyone... Besides, you shouldn't ever hide anything from your friends."
"Only Friends?" Artemis asked sweetly.
He turned to Arya first. "It is true. My name is Harry James Potter… James was my father's name." As he spoke, he felt a gulp rising in his throat, particularly when he saw the green sparkle in Arya's eyes that looked dangerously intense.
"Why did you keep this from us?" she inquired.
Harry took a deep breath.
"I wanted to distance myself from my past and just be known as Harry," he sighed wearily. "I wanted to be someone whom others wouldn't notice while walking by...just a nobody," he explained. "But everything changed when Artemis hatched for me."
Artemis lowered her head, but Harry embraced her tightly. When she gazed into his eyes, she sensed through their bond that he had no regrets about any of their time together.
Arya frowned in confusion. After what she'd learned about Harry, it didn't make any sense to her. In the weeks that she accompanied Artemis and him, she quickly realized how selfless he was.
She wondered why someone as selfless as Harry would want to disappear into the shadows of the world. It didn't seem to make sense, especially after seeing how he had dedicated himself to the Varden's cause and to helping others. She couldn't help but feel there was more to his story than he was telling them.
Harry paused for a moment, glancing at Arya and Brom. The silence seemed to stretch on forever until a warm expression flashed across his face. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand, setting it on his lap.
"There was a time I come from when the wizarding world was characterized by division and strife. Many old wizarding families were extremely prejudiced against 'new blood'. They called them muggleborns."
His tone was calm and serious as he fixed his gaze on a dirty spot on Artemis' scales.
He drew a slow line across the scales with his wand and watched as the dirt slowly dissolved into the air. With a snap, it vanished into nothing.
Artemis let out a puff of smoke as Harry continued. "In this society, many believed that only those with a lineage that could be traced back centuries deserved to have magic. Anyone who didn't belong to this group was seen as unworthy of possessing magic and, ultimately, unworthy of life."
"Magic is a rare talent," Arya murmured. Those who possess it must put in effort to develop and refine it, just like any other ability. It's repulsive to believe that one's ancestry alone grants them power." The dislike in her voice was noticeable.
Harry held up his hands to placate her. "I agree with you. My father, James Potter, was a pureblood wizard, but my mother was a Muggleborn. Unfortunately, there were many wizards and witches that believed themselves to be superior and wanted to maintain their power by belittling those who came from non-magical families."
"During that time a dark wizard seized the opportunity and amassed a group of followers who were swayed through his deceitful words. His speeches were like sweet nectar to the Purebloods, and eventually, they started spreading terror and engaging in corrupt activities."
Harry sighed and his sparkling green eyes darkened slightly. "During that time a young girl grew up. She was Muggleborn and was given an owl with a letter when she was eleven. She now knew that she was a witch and would attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizarding for years to learn magic."
"She didn't let anything hold her back. She was a stubborn person with a fiery passion who was kind and stood up for others."
Harry smiled as Artemis laid her head on his lap and continued after he took a deep breath.
"Eventually she fell in love with a young man, and they got married. Young as they were and full of energy, they joined an organization with their friends to fight against the dark lord, who went by the name of Lord Voldemort."
Arya furrowed her brow. "Voldemort? That's an unusual name."
"Allow me to make a guess," Brom said interrupting Harry. "Tom Riddle did not come from an ancient wizarding family, did he?"
A low growl escaped Artemis as she snorted. "His real name was Tom Riddle, but Lord Voldemort was the one he was feared for."
"Together they fought against Voldemort and his followers. He called them Death Eaters," Harry continued.
"The times were dark, with entire families opposing Voldemort being wiped out, while his followers tortured and killed in his name. Voldemort appeared to be unstoppable."
"The woman later became pregnant and gave birth to a child. However, she was warned that the Dark Lord himself would personally hunt down her family," Harry said in a bitter tone.
"Not because she had faced the Dark Lord multiple times and had the gall to survive, but because there was a prophecy. According to it, her child would one day defeat the Dark Lord."
Brom's shoulders flinched slightly, as if an old memory he'd forgotten resurfaced.
"Prophecies are a fickle thing. They can be understood in many ways and often come true in the most unexpected ways," Brom whispered quietly.
Harry agreed with him. "You're right, Brom. But Voldemort believed in the prophecy and set about finding the family. He thought if he killed the child, he would surely be unstoppable."
He clenched his fists, his breathing quickened. "The family tried to hide from him using an old spell, but they were betrayed by their own friend."
Arya and Brom hung on his every word.
"First the father died," Harry croaked out. "Then the Dark Lord went upstairs to the room where the mother was hiding from him with her child... She begged him to spare her child and to take her in his place."
A green light flickered in front of Brom's eyes as memories of the day he faced Harry flooded his mind.
'Not Harry, please no- take me, kill me instead!'
Brom closed his eyes and cupped his hand under his chin.
"He would have spared her," Harry whispered in anguish. "The Dark Lord had promised one of his followers that he would not kill her. But she would not give her child up and he finally grew tired of her. He killed her," Harry said, his voice thick with pain.
"Unknowingly, however, Voldemort made a mistake... The woman urged him to kill her so that she could sacrifice her life for her child. An ancient ritual that exchanged her life and magic to her own flesh and blood, to her son."
Arya gasped. "That is very dangerous magic. The soul is something pure that nobody should influence."
Harry fixed his gaze on her, his expression intense. "It was a dangerous magic, meant to save her son's life," he said, his voice low. "But then he tried to kill her son with Avada Kedavra, the killing curse. It's one of the darkest spells out there. You can imagine what it does," he added in a dry tone.
Arya's grip tightened on her own arms as she remembered the vivid green light, she had witnessed during the battle against Durza and the wizard. Harry seemed to sense where her thoughts were headed.
"Yes, if that beam of green light had hit you, you would have died without any visible injury. The spell is called Avada Kedavra, and everyone who has been hit by it has died without exception. It is one of the darkest spells out there, as it rips the soul from the body. Voldemort pointed his wand at the child and used the curse," Harry explained.
"What happened then?" Arya questioned him.
"The mother's ritual protected her child, and the spell ricocheted off his forehead, destroying the dark wizard's body. The child was unharmed... except for a lightning-like scar on his forehead."
Arya understood it immediately.
She spoke in a quiet voice and turned her gaze to his barely visible scar on the forehead. "It was you, wasn't it? The woman was your mother, and you were the child of prophecy."
"You're right," Harry locked eyes with Arya and nodded slowly, his hand unconsciously reaching up to touch the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. "My mother sacrificed herself to save me from Voldemort's curse. And I was the child the prophecy spoke of, the one 'destined' to defeat Voldemort."
"My mother's name was Lily Potter," Harry replied in a hushed tone. "That night made me famous, as I was the only one to survive the killing curse. They then called me the boy who lived."
Artemis nudged Harry with her head, and he leaned into her. "He was one of my classmates, and a coward at that. During the Battle of Hogwarts, I caught him crouching in the corner. The only thing I know about him is that his father was a Death Eater."
Arya and Brom were not surprised at the quick change of subject, but they both glanced at each other, and both knew, they wouldn't tell Nasuada and Hrothgar every detail of his past.
Artemis sensed the pain in her partner's memories and used her abilities to shield them, locking them away behind mental doors. Within moments, Harry felt the warmth of her presence, and the painful memories were no longer at the forefront of his mind.
He wiped the tear from his face and returned Artemis affection.
Harry embraced her through their bond. "I love you."
"I love you too, little one," she returned with fondness.
Arya smiled slightly as she saw the affection between the dragon and her rider.
Brom took a deep breath. "Any idea how he got here?"
Harry rubbed his chin. "I've wondered about it since I came to Alagaёsia... But I have no idea how. I was hoping to learn more before leaving Carvahall, but then Artemis arrived, and I never had the chance," Harry said with a hint of disappointment.
Brom stood up and composed himself. "In that case, it seems like our only option is to try to get the answers from him directly," he said firmly.
Harry nodded awkwardly. He felt a certain amount of guilt that a wizard from his world had followed him.
"You shouldn't feel guilty, little one. When we see him again, we'll defeat him and find out how he got to Alagaёsia," Artemis said firmly.
Harry gave her a soft smile of thanks and stood up as a dwarf came running towards them.
"Argetlam," the dwarf greeted, bowing to him, Artemis, and Arya. The dwarf's beard brushed the ground.
"The king sent me to you. He has called for you."
"All right," Harry said and stood up. "I'm coming with you; will you show us the way?"
The dwarf eyed Artemis annoyed. "Yes. Be quick about it."
He left them alone and waited for them outside.
Harry let out a snort. "He appears to be quite irritated." Arya shrugged and Harry saw her black hair fall from her shoulders.
"He wore the symbol of the Dûrgrimst Knurlcarathn," Arya observed, "I wonder what Hrothgar is thinking about forcing Nado to send you a message."
She sighed and followed him outside. "Although dwarves don't live as long as us elves, they too forget very slowly. Even though you and Artemis restored Isidar Mithrim, it will take time for the shock to drive out of their hearts."
Harry looked towards the exit where the dwarf was waiting for them. "Time will tell, I guess."
Artemis bowed her head and pulled Harry up by his collar and dropped him into her saddle.
"Oi!" Harry exclaimed and rubbed his backside.
Harry winced at Artemis's smirk while Arya shook her head disapprovingly at their playful behavior.
"Do me a favor and try not to cause more trouble. Hrothgar is an important ally of the Varden," Arya said, eyes blazing.
A broad smile spread across Harry's face as he looked down at her.
"I don't go looking for trouble. It just seems to find me," he explained before Artemis took off with a powerful flap of her wings, heading towards the exit. Arya watched after them.
"I have a feeling he's said that before."