The High Pass
Nothing could have prepared Severus for the climb that was about to come. The Misty Mountains were far taller than the tallest mountain in the United Kingdom, and despite having hiked several mountains in Scotland, this High Pass, even while being on horseback, had turned into his greatest challenge yet. He thought about his father as he slowly ascended, remembering how they had talked about hiking up the Ben Nevis together by the time he was big enough to do so. His father had wanted to do it for the challenge, but for him it was more about the observatory that lay in ruins at the top. There was definitely magic to be found there. If only you could see me now, he thought to himself. The deciduous trees faded away and turned into a landscape filled with pines and firs. The rolling hills had turned to dark and solid rocks, and the path grew rugged and uneven, to which Tilion slowed down and grew cautious in his steps.
The sun was fading behind the mountains in the East. He had taken a rest on a large fallen branch that lay along the path. Elven travellers who were coming down from the Mountains spoke to him, telling him of strange sightings beyond the peaks, and warned him of an impending storm. He had expected as much, as he had felt the wind turning, and a winter chill came in from the slopes.
Another warning had come for something the travellers had named Raucëa Laima, which meant something along the lines of a plant rooted in evil. He did not recall learning anything about evil plants from Elrond or anyone else in Rivendell, and so he wrote it off as something that must surely be unsafe to eat. After having shared some of his Lembas with them, they departed ways again, and they continued on their journey to the Grey Havens.
He wasn't sure if it was due to an overactive imagination, or whether it came from a sheer sense of loneliness, but he found himself talking to Lily all the time. With her riding on foxy beside him, still talking about all the things she missed from their own world. Going to the pictures on Cokeworth's main street. Stealing sweets from the shops. Visiting Diagon Alley with her parents. Tossing stones from the bridge into the river. After a while he came to the understanding that all the things she said, were all the things he missed as well.
With a small fire going, he set up camp for the night. The starlit sky was slowly taken over by dark clouds, and he covered the tent as well as he could, knowing that he was bound to wake up seeing a thick layer of snow surrounding him. Unburdening Tilion, he brought in everything he was carrying with him inside the tent. The Sorting Hat. Eladan's Bow. His Wand. The Barrow-blade. The bags of supplies. He fumbled around with Kémya on his finger, and for a moment he imagined what it would look like on Lily's finger. What would have happened had she taken a hold of the Ring instead. Could it have helped her be safe instead of him? Not wanting to linger on it for too long, he tossed a thick woollen blanket over himself, and fell asleep, the image of Kémya shimmering on Lily's finger still echoing in his mind.
...o0o…
Severus awoke with a jolt at hearing Tilion neigh loudly. Crawling out of his tent he saw that the Sun had yet to rise, and a thick blanket of snow had covered the ground. It glistered like diamonds in the light of the Moon, and it would have felt peaceful if it weren't for the fact that Tilion was still stomping around in fear. He cursed the fact that his Wand no longer worked for him, as he could not make out what was troubling his horse as he ran up to him.
He had nearly reached Tilion when he felt something tugging at his heels, and in a split second he slammed hard against the ground. Thick tree roots moved like large tentacles through the snow, coiling around in a snake-like manner. The roots had wrapped itself around Tilion's legs and were moving rapidly towards his neck. Severus' own feet were trapped by the roots, and he could feel it starting to pull roughly on his boots, stretching him out.
He thought back to what the travellers had said. Raucëa Laima, a demonic plant. Only now did he understand that he was dealing with Devil's Snare. It came crawling from the darkness, and by the speed in which it was moving it appeared to be hungry, ready to strangle and devour any living thing that would cross its path.
Suppressing the panic that arose in him, he held Kémya up high and thought of the light he had once seen emitting it when he first put it on in the Old Forest. The Seed of Laurelin from inside the yellow stone started to glow. Its golden rays spreading out, unfurling like a flower of light. The Devil's Snare burnt and crawled away as he held the Ring before him, and saw Tilion pulling himself loose from the roots, kicking it as it crawled back into the shadows.
'We have to go,' Severus said to Tilion. With the light still with him, he ran his way back to his tent, tied it all together and saddled up Tilion at record speed. Armed with bow and blade, he jumped onto Tilion's back, ready to make it across the Pass as fast as possible.
The light from the Ring had awakened his surroundings. The Devil's Snare could still be heard slithering around them, and he heard the unmistakable sound of owls hooting at him. A howling in the distance sent a shiver down his spine, remembering how Lupin had howled during his transformation. The more the thought lingered on his mind that Werewolves could be on his path, the more he was determined to keep going until he reached the other side. Rest would have to wait, and he could only hope that Tilion would be strong enough to make the journey for as long as he needed him to go.
The howling had first appeared from behind, but now it seemed that the sound came from the top of the mountain too. The Ring was still lighting the way, and he realised that he was drawing far too much attention to himself. As if the Ring had understood, the light curled itself back in the same way he had once seen a flower do in Lily's hand. The first rays of the Sun had finally come from behind, forcing the Devil's Snare to retreat back into the shadows.
'I can tell you're following them,' he said to Tilion, and gave him a reassuring pet on the head. Tilion's ears were following the howling coming in from all directions, and they were growing louder. A low rumbling swept over the ground. At first it seemed as if a large body of snow had fallen from a cliff, but the rumbling grew rhythmic, and the deep beating sound of war-drums filled the air. Orcs.
It was instinctual. The first time Severus had ever felt this kind of fear before was during one of the camping trips with his father. A wild boar appeared, and it was angry, ready to come charging at him. Frozen in fear, his father had leaped out from behind him with his Lee-Enfield locked and loaded, and with a loud bang the boar thudded down on the ground. He still had the beast's tusks lingering somewhere in his room, serving as a reminder of that day.
He pulled out an arrow from the quiver on his back, and held it at the ready in the way Elrond's sons had taught him. Shadows were moving fast along the slopes. The clear air interrupted by the clouds formed by his own breathing, and he steadied his hand while counting along to the beats of his rapidly moving heart.
A branch snapped and Tilion pointed his ears directly in front of him. Without hesitation, Severus released the arrow from the bow and a loud cry pierced through the sky, until it faded into nothing. Whatever it was that he had killed, its cry had alarmed all else that surrounded them.
The barking of the Wargs came rumbling over the mountain. With heavy footfall a large group came running down, followed closely the shrill voices of Orcs ordering them to kill. There were too many. He wanted to turn Tilion around and haste his way down the mountain, not wanting to stop until he had reached the safe borders of Rivendell again. But from the shadows behind him came another rumbling. Trees fell as the rumbling grew close, and at once a giant creature leapt through the sky, sinking its teeth into the neck of the nearest Warg.
Remembering Bilbo's tale about the Beornings, Severus found some courage within himself to pull out his Barrow-blade and make Tilion run up to the first Orc that approached him with a spear, and pieced him straight through the heart.
The Orcs and Wargs must have known that the Beornings were to be feared, for they retrieved back into the mountains, sending out cries of warning to those that were behind them. The creature, that he had made out to be a monstrous bear, appeared to signal to him to follow. Adrenaline was rushing through his veins as he steered Tilion after the bear, and in the tips of his fingers he felt the familiar prickling of magic. By the slithering sound he could tell Raucëa Laima was still following him from the shadows, only now he realised that the Ring was doing its work. The Devil's Snare was answering to its call, and the bear before him must have understood.
Severus raised his left hand into the air and lowered the blade in his right. With a single gesture the roots and vines of the snare sped off like whips, wrapping themselves around the Wargs and Orcs hiding behind the firs and pines, choking them until their final breath was released, and the sound of drums faded with the wind.
The first light of the new day came peeking out over the mountain as he lowered his hand. The Raucëa Laima retrieving back into the shadows, leaving behind a battlefield of strewn bodies.
'This will not be the last of it,' said a deep voice.
As he turned around, Severus noticed that the bear had transformed. Beside him stood an unusually large man. With wild dark hair and a large beard, he was reminded of the Groundskeeper at Hogwarts. Only there was very little kindness to be found in this man's eyes, and who eyed him with great suspicion. 'You must be Beorn,' he said.
'Who is asking?' he answered.
'My name is Severus,' said Severus. 'Friend of Bilbo Baggins. He has told me about you before I left for my journey.'
'These are dangerous times to be travelling these mountains, friend of Bilbo,' he answered. 'my name is Grimbeorn, son of Beorn. Chieftain of the Beornings. It is best if you kept going. It is as I said; this will not be the last of it. These Wargs were bred in Isengard, and soon many more will follow.'
Severus swallowed hard at the thought of these Wargs being from Isengard, knowing with near certainty that Lily was held captive there. 'I need to go to Mirkwood to meet with Radagast the Brown,' he said. 'Will you join me across the mountain?'
'My people do not meddle with the affairs of Men – nor Elves,' Grimbeorn answered as he looked at Severus from top to bottom, as though he could not quite determine where to place him. 'Tell me, Severus. What is taking you over these mountains? And what is this strange magic that you possess?'
Severus knew he had caught Grimbeorn's interest. 'Nature answers to my call,' he answered with confidence. 'I have set out from Rivendell in order to find Radagast. It is of utmost importance that I find him.' From a bag he pulled out a large jar of honey, and handed it over. 'Take it as a token of my gratitude.'
A sliver of a smile appeared on Grimbeorn's lips as he took the jar from Severus' hands. 'I have heard the tale of Thorin Oakenshield's company from my father, and of Bilbo Baggins, the burglar from the Shire. I can take you as far as the Carrock, but I will not cross the Anduin. From there on, you are on your own.'
'I appreciate your company,' said Severus. 'Let us keep going. Dead Orcs smell even fouler than living ones.'
Stepping over the many bodies the Raucëa Laima had killed for them, they continued to follow the road over the High Pass. Grimbeorn fell into conversation about living in the Vales of the Anduin, and spoke of his duty as Chieftain to keep the High Pass free from Orcs and Werewolves. The Werewolves however, have not been sighted for a long time, and he suspected that they may have received a calling from the East.
The worst part of the journey was over. The thick blanket of snow grew thinner as they descended from the mountains on its eastern side, and Tilion had a bit more of a bounce in his step now that the soil under their feet was more flat and even.
Severus, too, shared a lot of his own tale with Grimbeorn, though he thought it was best to leave out the part of being from a completely different realm. Grimbeorn seemed particularly compassionate about Lily's situation, and expressed his growing concerns about the developments coming from the Gap of Rohan.
It took several days before they reached the very roots of the mountain. At night Grimbeorn had kept watch in his bear-form, which Severus was nothing short of grateful for. Feeling cold yet well-rested, the Carrock had come into view. It stood much taller than Severus had expected, and it had to be at another day's worth of travel to reach its steps.
'My father was very fond of this eyot,' said Grimbeorn. 'From its very top he would watch the Moon and the Great Eagles fly overhead. You told me in your stories that you wished to see them for yourself. It is there that you may come eye to eye with their hidden eyries. It is here where I leave you.'
'Thank you for coming with me,' said Severus. 'It meant a great deal to me.'
'I don't believe that we will ever meet again, Severus,' said Grimbeorn. 'But your name shall be known in all of Middle-earth, and live on through tale and song. I bid you farewell.'
...o0o…
The landscape had changed drastically on the other side of the mountains. It felt more rural, with its sharp hills and its tall trees; even the air had a different stillness to it. The Anduin flowed peacefully, and ice was forming along its riverbank. Winter had come mildly, and in the far distance a shrill cry echoed through the mountains. Severus wondered if the Eagles had their eyes on him.
Taking it all in, he made his way towards the riverbank and looked up at the Carrock. Its treacherous steep staircase winding around it till it reached a flat surface at the very top. Trusting that Tilion would look after himself and protect their belongings, Severus left him by the riverbank and waded through the cold water to reach the bottom of the stairs.
The stairs were treacherous and weathered down by the harsh winds blowing in from the East. Crawling on all fours, Severus pulled himself up until he reached the top. From there, he had a spectacular view from his surroundings. Tilion looked like a small black speck out by the riverbank, peacefully pulling at grass patches he dug out from underneath the snow. The Sun had nearly set behind the Misty Mountains that were now to the West, casting a shadow to its slopes. To the East he could see the Old Forest Road that cut straight through Mirkwood. There, somewhere hidden in the deep and dark forest, lay Rhosgobel.
In his mind he heard Aragorn's song again. The words resonating in his head, and got carried away by the wind towards the mountain slopes.
From the Great Sea to Middle-earth I am come.
A shrill cry came calling from the mountains. Wings that could create storms blew the fresh snows from its tops as bird-like shadows came gliding through the air. Their golden feathers touched by the Sun's light as they flew towards the Carrock. Taking the lead was the largest Eagle of all. With grace, the Eagle landed before him as the others circled around the Carrock, awaiting the call of their leader.
In awe and unable to speak, Severus looked up at the Eagle towering over him. Its golden eyes looking wise beyond its years. 'My name is Gwaihir,' the Eagle spoke in a low rumbling voice. 'Lord of the Eagles. A messenger of Manwë, King of the Valar. Descendant of Thorondor. And who might you be?' Gwaihir took a deep look into Severus' eyes, as if suspicion of his ancestry could be read within his mind.
'My name is Severus,' said Severus, who couldn't help but feel somewhat frightened by the presence of an enormous talking Eagle looking down on him. 'Descendant of Rowena Crabannamma. I was told by Lady Galadriel that taking the path to Rhosgobel would lead me to you.'
'The Legend of Rowena is well known to us,' said Gwaihir. 'For my kind was there when she left these lands. Come, and I shall take you to our eyrie, Child of Rowena. The ancient prayer from Meneltarma has been heard.'
Gwaihir lowered himself so Severus could climb up on his back. Below he could see that another Eagle had picked up Tilion, to the horse's great dismay, with its talons and flew up towards the mountains. Knowing it was not a question, he hoisted himself up on Gwaihir's back and held on to his feathers as well has he could. For a split second, he regretted not taking the opportunity to fly a Hippogriff during Care of Magical Creatures.
Gwaihir stepped over the edge of the Carrock and fell down, spreading his wings as he nearly touched the edge of the river. Gliding on the wind he moved upwards where a hidden crevice in the mountain revealed itself. Moving through it with ease, the hidden eyrie was revealed. The mountaintops surrounding the eyrie preventing any unwinged creature to discover their hiding place. Their nests were the size of manors. The bones of their prey were used to build shelter from the rain, and the moss covering the branches made the nest feel soft and warm.
Severus climbed of Gwaihir's back, and felt his knees shaking a little from the flight. Tilion was dropped off beside him, and looked rather unnerved and angered by the whole ordeal. Letting Tilion be as he paced around, Severus sat down and looked around the Great Shelf and the Eagles flying by. 'It is a beautiful place you have built here,' he said to Gwaihir.
'From here we can see all,' said Gwaihir. 'Beyond the very curvature of Arda we can see all but the blackness of Morgoth's evil pits. Manwë sent us here to Middle-earth from Valinor after the Ñoldor were exiled. We were to keep an eye on them as well as on Morgoth's evil plans. Now, our focus has been on the East, with the rising of Sauron.'
'What part will you play in all of this?' Severus asked.
'We are our own People,' Gwaihir answered. 'We are not here to meddle in the journeys and wars of other Peoples. And yet we are of our own mind. It was Thorondor who rescued the survivors after Gondolin fell, and fought alongside Eärendil during the War of Wrath. It was not long ago that I myself have taken Olórin from the top of Orthanc and left him in the fields of Rohan. We interfere when we must.'
'Glorfindel told me that it was Thorondor who brought his body back to his People after slaying a Balrog,' said Severus.
'Glorfindel has had great parts to play within the very song that formed this world,' said Gwaihir, and looked down at Severus. 'And the song has not yet finished. But all is about Rowena now. The one with an adventurous heart, and yet who departed this world stricken with grief.'
'I have spoken to Rowena,' said Severus as he walked over to Tilion, who had calmed down significantly. From a bag he pulled out the old Sorting Hat. 'Or an imprint of her, at least. If you wish to hear her, you can.'
Gwaihir appeared to understand what was going on, and lowered his head so Severus could place it. Godric's hat looked small and strange as Gwaihir closed to eyes to listen to their voices, and gave Severus a moment to think about other things.
The Moon was coming out in its waning phase, meaning Christmas had come and gone, and the turning of the year was about to approach. Not that the holiday ever meant much to him until he was invited to Malfoy Manor during his fifth year. The Fellowship that had formed in Rivendell must have taken off by now, but by what road he knew not. The High Pass now lay buried under a winter's coat, and from the maps he knew that the only way forward was for them to head South.
Lily was out there, as he looked towards the South. He could not see it, but at its very end he knew in his heart that Lily had to reside in Orthanc. Held captive at the mercy of the Orcs. He turned back to Gwaihir, who had opened his eyes again. 'Could you take me to Orthanc?' he asked, and in his voice lay a tone of desperation. 'I know that she is out there, and I must go out and rescue her if I can.'
'We have kept a watchful eye on Lily of House Gryffindor ever since the Crebain have allied themselves with Saruman,' Gwaihir answered. 'They have been following you, too, but we were able to fend them off for some time now. She resides in the same place on which I found Olórin – broken but unhurt. Neglected and yet cared for by someone who's heart has forever fought a battle within itself.'
Severus felt his voice rising slowly. 'Even if you don't want to interfere, could you at least not take me there and let me handle it myself?'
Gwaihir lowered his head so Severus could take the Hat back from him. 'Rowena needs you to awaken, and it is to Rhosgobel you must go.'
'But the opportunity is right here!' said Severus. 'What is keeping you from doing what you have done for Gandalf?'
'Because she will be saved,' said Gwaihir. 'but it is Rowena's daughter that needs saving too.'
A/N The Ben Nevis is the tallest mountain in the whole of the UK and lies in western Scotland. In 1883 at the very top of the mountain a meteorological observatory was opened.
A/N "Raucëa laima" literally translates to "demonic plant." It was the closest I could get to Devil's Snare.
A/N Fun fact: in J.K. Rowling's earlier concepts for the series, Hufflepuff's mascot was a bear rather than a badger.
A/N Beorn died before the War of The Ring, but when exactly is unknown. Grimbeorn took over his role as chieftain.
A/N Severus left Rivendell on the 21st of December (Erukyermë). In canon, the Fellowship of the Ring left Rivendell on the 25th of December, which in 1977 was during a full moon. They tried to cross the High Pass, but the storms intervened with that plan, which is why they decide to go through Moria, which they enter on January the 13th.