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Chapter Text

Harry POV

I stared at my bloodied hands; the resurrection stone gleaming in my left palm, the elder wand lying in my right and the invisibility cloak draped over my shoulder. I am the Master of Death. I'm also the only one left standing after the final battle; The Battle of Hogwarts. We had destroyed all of the Horcruxes, including the one in my head. All I needed to do was utter the killing curse. We couldn't have known what would happen. What he would do next; Voldemort already had a backup plan if he were to lose. My eyes slowly moved back towards the body that once held the last scrap of Voldemort's soul, runes were etched into his skin and the sight of it is horrific; the faint orange glow, the smell of singed flesh, the image was burned into my eyes. Runes that enacted an ancient spell; one that hasn't been seen in an age.

Basically, the runes channel and collect his magic -every last drop of it. The magic is then released by saying one of two different incantations; the first option is 'vitam restituit'; basically bringing the soul back to every corpse and healing all wounds. The second option is 'gladius mortis'; which brings the sword of death, killing every single soul within its range. Voldemort had enough magic and malicious intent to desolate all of Hogwarts, even those within a couple miles. Due to using every ounce of the caster's magic the result is their own death, Voldemort was dead even before my killing curse reached him.

It is hard to process, the war was over now, but at such a terrifying cost. Thousands of lives, all gone in the blink of an eye. All because one man wanted more power. I tilt my head up to look at the cloud covered sky, bloody and torn black robes clung to my equally bloody and dirty skin.

"Now what? Everyone and everything I knew, are gone.. I spent my whole life training for this, now what?" I stood there for what felt like hours, though it was only a few minutes, waiting for an answer, though from whom I don't know. I waited for a miracle, for someone, anyone to stand up and tell me this was a lie, just a horrible joke.

Nothing happens for another ten minutes. Eventually my legs give out from underneath me, falling seems to happen in slow motion; my bones creaking and blood dripping from the numerous cuts scattered across my skin. My hair is beyond matted with blood; some of which is mine, most of it belongs to other people. I am vaguely aware of the tears running down my face. Hermione and Ron were tortured by Bellatrix. I couldn't save them. The Weasleys all died trying to protect the younger kids trapped in the castle. Tonks, Remus, Severus and Hagrid. All gone. Even Malfoy. Draco. Everything I thought I knew about him was wrong. We were more alike than I thought. I let the rest of my body fall forward, collapsing on the dirty ground. The wand and stone roll out of my limp hands, stopping when they hit the still form of Professor McGonagall a few feet away. The cloak is trapped under my own still body, and I can't help but wonder again what I'm supposed to do.

My wounds will heal in a few short hours, a perk of being Master of Death I suppose. I'm not sure how I know that, I just do. The same way I know I can't die anymore. I don't have a handy explanation. I wonder what's the point in staying here? Everyone I love is dead, and all those I will love will age and die, I will be stuck here, watching them fade away, still in my 22 year old body.

'I don't want to be here. There's no point anymore, my goal has been accomplished. We won. Yet, I lost. I lost everything I ever knew.'

I didn't notice myself slipping out of consciousness, slipping outside of all time and space, it seemed each day was as long as a life time, but I woke, and now I'm in a place surrounded by white light, similar to the Kings Cross Station I arrived in after Voldemort killed the horcrux that lived inside me. Maybe Death himself had come to say hello. Doubtful.

"Hello, Harry Potter, Master of Death."

"Who are you? You're not Death." I kept my voice steady, spreading my magic out and glancing around to try and find them. I come up with nothing, which is odd.

"My name is Eru Ilúvatar, the Lord of the Valar. I have come to give you a choice."

"Valar? Choice?" I frowned, the soft male voice surrounding me. I hadn't heard of anything called the Valar before, not even in History of Magic. Maybe this is the joke I had been waiting for, the other shoe dropping.

"Yes, Harry. This is no joke. I speak the truth. There is another world aside from your own. It is called Arda, or Middle Earth in the common tongue. It is so different from your own world, there are very few wizards in Middle Earth."

I watch as the space ahead of me began to grow fuzzy, shifting into a picture. It was like looking through a window, or maybe a pensieve? I assume the images are of this 'Middle Earth' he speaks of. The first images I see show a village of tiny people, they farm and garden and eat, and then I notice their feet, no shoes, but large and neatly combed hair covering them, all of them happily going about their business. The next is just an image of a dense forest, then a mountain covered in snow. A second series of images shows people with elf, or pixie-like ears, they are focused and graceful as they work with a bow and arrow. The images fade, and I wait for 'Lord of the Valar' to explain.

"That is but a small example of what Middle Earth looks like and her people. However, I did not show you the evils that haunt them. You wished to know what you are to do now that Voldemort is gone? This is one option. You could choose to stay out of the war, if so then the elves will offer you protection, but my children need protection. Your third option is to stay where you are and build a new life for yourself."

I hold back a sigh. Really, there isn't anyone waiting for me back home. No one who would care if I left. I can go back and face a broken wizarding world and be forced to fix it. I could make a new life for myself in the process. Why should I though? I've done what was asked of me, Voldemort is gone for good. I don't need a pro's and con's list for going back to Hogwarts.

Middle Earth is in the middle of a brewing war it seemed, and I had just finished one. However, I would actually get to choose if I want to fight or not, it would be my own choice this time. Plus, with my unending life, I literally have all the time in the world. If I stay here I can travel Earth, learn languages, see all the culture on offer. I could do the same on Middle Earth. Neither place sounds all that appealing right now. Except that no one would know who I am in Middle Earth. Now that sounds more like it.

"And if I chose to go to Middle Earth?"

"You will wake up in a forest near Rivendell. I will give you the knowledge of the most used language, Westron, but it is up to you to decide if you want to learn the rest of them. I will also give you the basic knowledge you will need to blend in; what beings live there, plant life, and how to greet certain people of different cultures and different beliefs. You will retain all your knowledge and abilities from your own world. When you wake up, head for Rivendell. It is there that you shall make your choice. Also, the elves of Middle-Earth are blessed with long life, some of them having been alive for thousands of years. You shall not be alone on Middle Earth, Harry."

"Very well then, Eru, I will go to Middle Earth "

"Then I shall take you there. Remember, go to Rivendell. Everything else will be your decision."

Once he finished speaking, my vision began to blur until everything goes dark again.

Only a few moments pass and I wake, I'm surrounded by trees and a bright blue sky with fluffy white clouds. I find it a little odd to wake up standing, but I shrug it off only to realize I'm holding something. I open my hands only to find I still have the hallows; the cloak is draped over my shoulder, stone in one hand and wand in the other. I wasn't really expecting them to follow me, but in a way, it makes sense. I wouldn't be much of a 'Master of Death' without them, and I am unable to use magic without a wand. I locate a pocket without any holes and slip the resurrection stone inside, the wand going into my wand holster next to Draco's wand. I'm a little unsure where to put the cloak, but I locate another undamaged pocket and after folding it up, the cloak slips right in.

I take a small step forward, swaying slightly as a dizzy spell hits, before steadying myself again to continue. At this point, my body simply needs rest and nourishment and a little more time to finish healing a broken rib and a nasty gash on my right side. However, something tells me there's no time to rest or explore, so I walk in a random direction, following my instinct hoping it's sending me in the right direction.

It feels like hours before I stop walking, I collapse against a tree, finally letting my body rest. The species isn't one I'm familiar with, but it's huge and undoubtedly ancient; I feel something foreign mingle with my magical core, and the tree is the first thing I look at.

"What was that?" I don't expect an answer, but the strange buzzing that's brushing against my core feels like it gives a strong pulse almost like it's saying hello. It doesn't feel threatening at all, but like it is welcoming me, it's cheerfulness brings hope to my aching heart. Removing my palm from the trunk of the tree, I notice the buzzing gets quieter, almost unnoticeable which explains why I didn't notice it. Frowning, I place my hand back on the tree. Almost instantly the buzz is stronger again, and I do it twice more with the same results.

"How odd. That's never happened before. I'm assuming this means there's magic in you," I find myself talking to the tree. "Sort of like the wild magic of Earth, only it's more prominent in the nature here."

*Yes, you would be correct. Though I do not know what 'wild magic' is. Here, there's magic all around us. Since you can feel it so strongly that would make you either an elf or an Istari? You do not look like an elf so you must be one of the Istari? Yet you are so young? Why am I speaking to a wizard when I know I cannot be understood? Maybe it is time I find a mate.*

I jumped slightly at the sound of hissed words, looking around for the source until finally I am looking up into the tree. On one of the lower branches a medium sized orange snake is wrapped around a branch, looking down at me. I suppose this is what that Lord of the Valar meant when he said I would keep my abilities. It wouldn't hurt to reply back to the snake. Maybe he can show me where Rivendell is.

*Actually, I understand you just fine. Wild magic is the magic of nature, it is difficult to harness or control and most people don't even realize it exists since you cannot feel it under normal circumstances. Yes, I am a wizard, just not one from your world.*

*You can speak! I have never heard of someone speaking to snakes before. How did you learn the snake language? I didn't know that was possible. It makes sense that you are not from here.*

I watch as the snake quickly uncurls from the branch and drops down, before looking back up at me. Kneeling to speak with him easier, I smile slightly.

*If you know the way to Rivendell and can take me there then we can talk about this some more on the way?*

*Yes, I can do that. Come, follow me. You are going in the wrong direction. Tell me more about this snake language.*

I stood back up, following the snake, and began telling him about Hogwarts, my friends and the world I came from; maybe talking about the good days with this snake will keep the nightmares at bay. After all, I came here for a new life. Not to be haunted by the past.

Chapter Text

'A man will arrive with a choice to make. A man by the name of Harry Potter, he is from a world separate from our own and he will be bathed in shadow and death. He will hold the key to the light, but he has yet to choose to fight. If he fights, all against him shall fall by his blade. He will become a child of Rivendell. There he shall accomplish many great deeds. No matter which path he chooses; Elf and Man will find each other in the pits of despair.'

Lord Elrond groaned at Gandalf's stubbornness. Gandalf was infuriated that Lord Elrond was refusing to keep the Ring in Rivendell, however, he couldn't help but understand his reasoning.

"The Ring is powerful and dangerous, seeking to control and have dominion over all, man and elf alike. We cannot keep it here or we will risk bringing danger upon all of my kin. The only option is to destroy it." Elrond's words are sharp and Gandalf frowns, worry colouring his features.

"I understand, but who do you propose would be able to take the Ring to Mount Doom and cast it into the flames?" Elrond shook his head. There was one person that Elrond could think of and it was not certain they would do it. Their conversation is interrupted a moment later when one of Elrond's kin came, the elf bowing before him, then quickly straightening up to look Lord Elrond in the eye.

"I'm sorry to interrupt my Lord Elrond, Gandalf." He turned, bowing to the grey wizard. "There's a strange man at the entrance to Imladris, he says that his name is Harry, and he is insisting on speaking with you, my Lord."

Elrond nodded to the sable haired elf. "Very well Lindir. Take him to the west terrace, I think he shall need refreshment, I will meet him there momentarily."

Lindir bowed once more before leaving. "My Lord, I will have it so."

Elrond inclines his head slightly in acceptance, then turned back to Gandalf. He gave the wizard one last lingering look;

"I mean it Gandalf, the Ring cannot stay in Rivendell." His tone was firm and final leaving him in no doubt that his mind was made up.

Elrond turned on his heel and headed towards the west terrace. It had always been his favourite place to sit, the view of the valley was breathtaking; with the Bruinen just visible as it disappeared through the gorge where the last homely house sat, with a backdrop of the looming Misty Mountains. It seemed like a good place for him to meet this Harry Potter.

Harry POV

*Stop here, Harry. I cannot go any further. May we meet again, until then I will spread word of your kindness and your skill.*

I stopped walking, looking at the ford before me, on the opposite side was a narrow path that looked towards the awe-inspiring view ahead, I can only assume that this paradise is Rivendell, and it was a sight to behold.

*Thank you for leading me this far. You really don't need to tell others about me. Where do I go from here?*

*I shall do so regardless. They should know of the man who speaks in the tongue of snakes. May my kin be of service to you, whatever quest you choose and wherever you might be. Go across the Ford and follow the narrow path, it will take you to the gates of Rivendell. Ask to speak to the Lord Elrond for he is the master of that house.*

I nodded, watching as the snake begins to slither away and I feel lonely again, but as I turned, the view of Rivendell brought hope. It was definitely not what I expected to find, even if it is the home of elves. My only experience with elves has so far been the house elves from my own world. This was all together different. There was no knowing which came first, their home, or the nature that it sat in. Everything was so intuned with the earth, the natural magic made all the more sense now.

Looking down the valley, the sight was beautiful and part of me already wants to simply stay here and stay out of the war. 'Maybe I made the right choice after all.' Drowned in the midday sun, Rivendell glows with the hues of nature, golds, reds and browns created a canopy and the light shone through illuminating the buildings, if you could even call them that being so open to nature around them, which were nestled perfectly within the forest of lush trees. Underneath ran the river I had crossed earlier and when I followed it with my eye, in the distance roared a giant waterfall. That in itself was just as breathtaking as the elven home. They fit together harmoniously.

Maybe if the sounds of war weren't still ringing in my ears, I would smile at the sound of the rushing water in my ears, I would smile at the sight of the nature-surrounded home. It doesn't even occur to me that I should have questioned the snake on who Elrond was. It took almost two hours before I finally reached the entrance, where I stopped by two elves. They were a far cry from the house elves that I am used too. They both stood almost a whole foot taller than me, they seem thin but their lithe bodies have a poise and tension that spoke of compact muscles and subtle strength. One of the elves had chocolate brown hair and emerald eyes only a few shades lighter than my own. His face gently angular and had a calm expression. The other elf had sharper cheekbones with brown eyes. His hair is also a brown sable colour. This elf was slightly shorter than the other but held himself just as tall and proud. The sight of them made me a little nervous.

"Halt," the guarding elf called, his hand raised to bar my entry. 'Elves are much more graceful and imposing in person.' I watched as the second elf walks forward, one hand resting on his bow, the other hovered near his quiver of arrows.

"State your name and business," the elf demanded, his green eyes narrowed in suspicion, long brown hair gently swaying as the wind blows.

"My name is Harry, and I would like to talk to Lord Elrond please." I wasn't entirely sure if that was the right thing to say, or even the right way of saying it, but I knew that going to Lord Elrond was the best course of action. The first elf, a male with golden brown eyes, nodded at the other, who turns and marches into the depths of Rivendell. The first then turns to me, clearly eyeing my bloodied and torn clothes. Awkwardly I shift on my feet, taking note of the state of my injuries.

"Do you require medical assistance?" The elf asked, his eyes continue to take in my disheveled appearance, his distaste is evident through his gaze.

"No, thank you. My injuries have healed on their own."

"Very well." Though there was a note of surprise in the elfs' features. We stood in silence until the second elf returned sometime later.

"Lord Elrond will meet with you on the west terrace, we will bring refreshments. Follow me." I nodded, following as the elf moved at a speedy yet graceful pace.

They took me to an open terrace with a breathtaking view. There is an ornate railing and the trees have grown so close I could easily climb up into the crown. There are only three chairs and a table in the midst of them. In one chair a regal looking elf sits. The elf that led me here bowed, then left presumably to watch the other side of the door. I watched as the taller elf, presumably Lord Elrond, raised a hand towards the other chairs, gesturing for me to take a seat. I did so, taking in his shadow-like hair and piercing blue eyes. He is sitting tall in his chair, hands gently folded on his thighs. His hair is long, falling past his shoulders with a thin elegant silver crown resting on his forehead, it was like lustrous ivy had been wrought into an intricate circlet.

"Welcome to Rivendell, Harry Potter." The male's smile was kind and I felt myself relaxing if only a little. Though I was sure I never mentioned my second name.

"Thank you, Lord Elrond. I hope I am not troubling you with this sudden meeting."

"This meeting is not sudden, I have been expecting you for some weeks."

"Sorry, what?" My body tensed again, watching for any hint of an ambush. 'I don't think it was a threat, but I have learned it's best to expect the unexpected. He could have meant many things by saying that and I get the sense that he doesn't like to beat around the bush. If someone attacks I will be ready! Which wand should I use? I don't want to risk losing or breaking his...Draco's wand. The Elder wand then. It would be nice if I had The Sword of Gryffindor with me.' I was about to speak, when my vision goes out of focus and I am back in the bright white space where I talked to the Valar before.

"Hello?" I looked around expectantly, waiting for an answer.

"Hello, Harry. Please do not be alarmed. Elrond has the gift of foresight, he has been awaiting your arrival." It's Eru Ilúvatar again.

"He's a seer? How much does he know about me, about my past?" I clung to the hope he that he didn't know anything. My nerves kick in, after all I didn't have the best track record with seers.

"He is what your kind would call a seer. He knows only that you are Harry Potter, a wizard from another realm. He knows that you have a choice to make. Trust Elrond, he can give you wise counsel."

"That's good!" I sighed in relief, "I don't think I really want people to know about my past."

"That is your choice Harry. I counsel you to show him a little more of yourself, more about who you are, not as the saviour of the wizarding world, but as a man, however, it is up to you."

I don't get the chance to answer before I'm blinking in the sunlight and looking over at Lord Elrond once more. At least a few minutes had passed, as there are now two cups of steaming tea sitting on the table between us.

Picking the cup up that's in front of me I take a small sip. "Thank you for the tea, it's really good."

Elrond simply nods in return before speaking.

"It seemed you were lost in thought for a while." I could hear the unspoken question in the words. I couldn't think of a reason to not tell him the truth.

"I was speaking to The Lord of the Valar, Eru Ilúvatar. He told me that you are gifted in foresight and that I should tell you more about who I am." I took a small steadying breath before continuing, "I am the son of James and Lily Potter, I helped defeat the greatest Dark Wizard that had ever been, and now," I took another breath, preparing himself for the statement to come, "I am the Master of Death."

"What does that mean? Being Master of Death?" Was the only thing Elrond said in reply.

"I only recently became the Master of Death, so I'm still figuring that out, but the main attribute seems to be that I can no longer die. That is one of the reasons I came here; elves are blessed with long life, I am told, much longer than humans. I only hope to be accepted as I am, only human, not elven." I was staring down at the now cooled cup of tea as I talked, not noticing the look of understanding Elrond gives me.

"I see. I am half elven and half human, my people have accepted me as I am, as I know they will accept you."

I jerked my gaze up, seeing the honesty in Elrond's expression. "Thank you. Please don't take it the wrong way, but I find it hard to believe that they will accept me. Where I come from, difference has not been accepted. That is the war I faced, the destruction of all those deemed impure, the half-breeds as they would call us. People have hated me for my differences, it has been too long to expect anything else."

Elrond tilted his head down slightly. "It was no trouble. In preparation for your arrival I have a room prepared, would you like new robes? I will have someone escort your room. Rest and eat, do what you need to prepare yourself, I know you have a choice to make." He stood up and gestured towards the door and I just now realize the elf that was guarding it had left.

"Yes please, that sounds perfect." I opened the door, seeing the second elf from earlier standing across the hall. Elrond gestured to him, and he walks a few steps forward.

"Lindir, please take Harry to his chambers, I had them prepared specially and bring him food, Harry Potter is to be afforded every luxury."

The elf bowed slightly before straightening. "Yes my Lord, please follow me, Harry."

"Thank you again, Lord Elrond." I bowed my head and turned to follow my guide. It took only a few minutes to reach my new room and the elf left me alone for the first time.

I walked over to the large bed in the middle of the room and just barely kept myself from lying down and succumbing to the greatest exhaustion I had ever known. But I'm still in my ruined robes and it would be a crime to ruin the most luxurious silk sheets I had ever seen. Walking over to the small wardrobe on the far right wall, I open it and find a small array of a different type of clothes. They were robes, somewhat similar to those worn by the elves here. I took out a green and black outfit, and head to the door right next to the wardrobe. Opening it I was greeted with a medium sized bathroom with different shades of brown, black and hints of white. I don't waste any time peeling off my robes and putting them neatly on the floor, stepping into the pre-prepared bath. It was hard to not groan when the steaming hot water rushed over my sore muscles, and even harder to not start crying now that I am officially alone.

'I really hope I made the right decision in coming here instead of staying there. Hermione...Ron... Merlin I'm so sorry! I'm sorry I couldn't save you. Please forgive me. I miss you all. I miss everyone. Always.' I choked back a sob, sliding down to curl into a ball at the bottom of the shower. I ignored the water that was getting into my eyes, more focused on regaining control of myself.

It wasn't until almost two hours later that I finally left the bathroom and found plates of food on the bedside table and no one in sight. Picking up a piece of fruit I've never seen before, I walked over to the window on the back wall. It looked over a small garden and I'm reminded of the magic mingling with my core. Deciding to meditate later to investigate, I finished eating and finally gave into the beautiful bed, falling into a deep sleep. Absently, I hoped I won't have any dreams, though I mean nightmares. I know they will come, they always come. If not today, then soon.

Chapter Text

I woke up the following morning to the sound of knocking on the bedroom door, I opened it and found an elf-maiden I hadn't met before, she stood there with a tray filled with food.

"Good morning," I said sleepily.

I let the elf-maiden pass into the room and she placed the dishes on the bedside table. I watched, half asleep, as her lengthy blonde hair swayed gracefully as she moved smoothly around the room. She had grass green eyes that shone brightly and a small curve to her mouth as though trying not to laugh. There were a variety of dishes, but the egg on toast had me salivating; 'I had not expected their food to be so similar to what I was used to. I had worried there would be more - exotic foods.'

"Good morning, sir. I'm Gwathrrien and I will be tending to you for the duration of your stay here-" she inclined her head politely- "please enjoy your breakfast, if there's anything you would like, anything that you need, please let me know," she finished, her soft voice was captivating. She then went to leave the room, but turned back to me at the door. "I will return later to retrieve the dishes." She bowed slightly before she left, and gave me no chance to thank her.

With the egg on toast there was a selection of fruits: kiwi and grapes, and the meal was finished off with a tall glass of milk. Unable to wait a moment longer I ate the lot, then started getting ready for the day, it promised to be quite eventful.

I walked towards the library, I decided earlier that the garden and meditating would wait until tomorrow. 'Maybe I will find some information that will help me with my choice. Wait do they even have a library? ' As I looked around I noticed an elf-maiden as she walked in my direction, she was tall, pale with dark hair and bright eyes.

"Excuse me, miss?" I walked towards her admiring her ethereal beauty, I had caught her attention. As I stood in front of her I tried to remember the reason I'd stopped her in the first place, but it was her pale blue eyes that bore into my own making so I felt as though she might have been looking directly into my soul. She stopped in front of me, smiling.

"Hello, Harry Potter, how may I assist you?" Her voice reminded me of the sound of the little streams on my way into Rivendell, as they gently rolled over the river bed, I was dazed and took a moment before answering.

"I- I'm sorry, erm, h- how do you know my name?" My brow furrowed as I tried to remember if we'd already met, but I knew it was a meeting that I would have never forgot.

"My apologies, Harry, my father: Lord Elrond,spoke to me me about you. I was able to recognize you quite easily, there are not many men such as yourself in all of Arda." she smiled, "I am Arwen, daughter of Elrond."

"Oh! I'm sorry Lady Arwen, it's a pleasure to meet you." I bowed hastily, and then straightened just as quick when she reached out to stop me.

"Fear not, it's a pleasure to finally meet you, Harry." She paused then as though she suddenly

remembered something, she smiled. "How may I help you?" Arwen's smile grew, her eyes shined with amusement.

"Yes, I was just wondering if you have a library? I want to try and understand your world a little more…" I trailed off nervously.

"We do, I can take you there now, many of our scripts are in elvish, will you need help deciphering the language?" She turned back in the direction she came from and I easily fell into step beside her. "My father is holding a council soon, there will be someone to represent all free people's of Middle-Earth; hobbits, men, dwarves, elves and Gandalf the Grey. He is one of the Istari." Arwen's voice was soft as she spoke and stopped by a door, it wasn't far from my room.

"Istari...a wizard? Why are you telling me this?" I asked confused, after all I had never expected to be privy to their plans, I was just not used to being in the know.

"It is my father's hope that you will attend this council, and maybe you will seek his counsel before you make your choice, and maybe you will be able to make a decision there."

"I see. I'd like to see what information I can find first, I'll look through the library and if I need to I can speak to your father after? What is the council for?" I questioned as we came to a stop in front of a door.

"The council is to determine the fate of the Ring."

"A ring? Why would they need to determine the fate of a ring?" I was confused. I rubbed the back of my neck as I spoke.

"The One Ring is the centerpiece of this war, an artefact the opposing side is fighting to get a hold of. It's the Dark Lord Sauron's greatest weapon and if they were to succeed in getting it back all would be lost, he would cover the world in a second darkness," she whispered the words slowly, a sad tilt to them. Curious about this Ring, I figured it was best to research it first.

"Very well. Thank you for bringing me to the library, I won't need help translating the scripts."

"You're welcome. I must depart now, we have a patient that I must tend to." she glided past me with a parting smile, headed back in the direction we came.

I turned to the door and opened it as I stepped inside. The room's walls were covered from floor to ceiling in books, it was only medium sized and yet it managed to carry a huge number of volumes. I couldn't help but feel a pang for Hermione and how she would have squealed in delight upon walking into this room. I could remember the many days where the three of us would labour over large dusty tomes to study for exams, or one of our many escapades.

The way Ron would complain about being in the library instead of goofing off in the common room. The day we learned about Nicholas Flamel. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to stop the tears from coming, I desperately tried to get rid of the rush of memories, looking at them was like opening old wounds, the pain was almost unbearable. I opened my eyes again and after a moment my focus was once more on the heavy volumes that were stacked around the room.

The only break in the fortress of books came from a large window, the view overlooked the entrance to Rivendell: there was a stone pathway leading into Rivendell, lined by trees full of golden and orange leaves that were gently swaying in the wind. There were a few elves going about their business, three of them lead horses, presumably off to the stables. At the end of the path, there was a large stone archway, within the face of the rock delicate shapes were engraved, it seemed to be like vines creeping up and around on all sides. I turned around, once more looking at the walls filled with books.

'At least it isn't an overly large library,' I thought, relieved that this would be much easier than I had imagined. 'I had hoped that it would help distract my mind, at least for a little while; but here, all I can think about is Hermione.' I shook the thoughts away, and forced myself to concentrate. 'I wonder if I can summon what I'm looking for?' Figuring it was worth a shot, I took out Draco's old wand.

"Accio, information on the Ring." It took a few seconds before a dusty scroll came sailing through the air and landed in my palm. I was mildly surprised there weren't more. The scroll was thick and wound up tightly, it had a single black ribbon tied around it, the parchment was aged but still smooth to touch. I sat on a plush chair by the window and unraveled it. I felt surprised that I understood the foreign elegant script on the page. 'Maybe Eru decided to give me knowledge of elvish after all. I was going to try a translation spell, but this works much better.' I shrugged and began to read.

The One Ring was a powerful artefact, an artefact many believed to be lost to Anduin the Great. It was crafted by the Dark Lord Sauron during the Second Age, who had learnt the dark arts under the tutelage of Morgoth, a lord of the Valar, whom was banished to Middle-Earth by the rest of his kin. After Morgoth had been vanquished by the Valar - led by Eönwë the Herald of Manwë, Sauron beseeched Celebrimbor to learn his craft, claiming to be changed. Here the three were made.

Secretly, in the fires of Orodruin, also known as Mount Doom, Sauron created a master Ring, a ring that would dominate all life. By crafting the One Ring, Sauron aimed to gain control over the other Rings of Power. Sauron sought lordship over the Elves and all other races in Arda, so he created the nine rings of men, who above all desired power, and seven he gave to the dwarves. In order to give the One Ring enough power to accomplish domination over all other Rings of Power he poured in his cruelty and his malice, his will to dominate; within the ring Sauron placed part of his very soul.

I stopped reading, trying to keep my breathing under control.'He'd made a Horcrux! Of all things, it had to be that. Merlin that is not good at all. Damn it. It couldn't just be an excessively powerful ring could it!?' I squeezed my eyes shut, in an effort to block the image of Voldemort grinning victoriously just before it ended, it was as though he knew what would happen. The sound of talking pulled my attention back to the here and now, I glanced toward the window, noticing it was open a little bit. 'How did I not notice that?'

I turned to where the sound had been coming from, there was a small group of children entering Rivendell; three small males, and on closer inspection I realized they weren't children at all, but the creatures that the Valar had spoken to me of, Hobbits? 'I didn't expect them to be so small, he must be four foot at best.' I looked again and noticed the fourth man, he had wavy black hair that fell to his shoulders, dark eyes and a rough, careworn face, his appearance was shaggy. Memories welled up and I struggled to hold the pain in my chest at bay as a strangled sob escaped my lips.

"Sirius." I whimpered as my hands trembled, the lights in the room momentarily flickered before I reigned in my magic. 'No, he isn't Sirius, whoever he is. Sirius is gone, he fell through the Veil.' I covered my face with my hands, all my focus on breathing in and out until I had finally managed to calm down. Unable to look at the approaching party again, I took my attention back to the weathered scroll on my lap. I skimmed through the history of the Ring and how the battle had been won, I searched for something specific, something that told me about its effects and powers.

When the One Ring was put on, the person would be partly removed from the physical realm and into the unseen realm, this made the wearer invisible to physical beings. This, however, caused them to be visible to the Ringwraiths. Also known as the Nazgûl, they were neither living nor dead. The Nazgûl were those that possessed the nine ring's power given to the kings of men, now they were all servants of Sauron. Their weapons included swords of steel and daggers, while their leader also carried a black mace. Their powerful voices stroke terror into the hearts of mortals. Along with enhanced sense of hearing and smell, they see only in the unseen realm, needing a steed to guide them. Their weaknesses included fire and water.

The One Ring had a great effect on it's bearer, the first being an unnaturally strong attachment, no bearer was able to harm the ring and none were known to have been able to give it up willingly. It would extend the lifespan of a mortal who possessed it. The Ring granted some understanding of the speech of evil creatures and sharpened one's senses. The Ring gave power according to the power of the wielder and would turn the power of the bearer to evil.

The Ring, being imbued with the soul of Sauron, had the will of its true master and could call out to those around it, manipulating and enticing, this often lead to the ring passing from one bearer to the other by one killing their predecessor.

The One Ring's primary power was control over the other rings and domination over the users will. It was also capable of augmenting the abilities and powers of whoever had it. The Ring may change its size to adapt to its wearer or to escape them. If one were able to place the One Ring in a fire, it had been believed that words would appear on it's band. These words could be translated to say; One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.

I rubbed at the bridge of my nose and let all the information sink in. Going by what I skimmed in the history section, Sauron had been the Dark Lord here for an extremely long time and no one had been able to destroy the Ring, killing him for good. I felt amazed Arda had been able to hold him back for so long, and I had a feeling they won't be able to for much longer. 'I guess I've made my choice then. I won't stand by and watch as Middle-Earth falls into the hands of Sauron. We have the Ring in our possession, at least that seems to be what Arwen was saying earlier. They will be having a meeting to decide what to do with it, and it would be best if I participate and know what decision they will make. If only I had basilisk venom or a controlled space for fiendfyre, I could try those. But I can't risk the fiendfyre catching hold of anything, especially the trees. Plus it is extremely likely Sauron was able to protect the Ring from magical fires. If I can manage to get to the Ring at some point then I will take it somewhere and try the fiendfyre. The Sword of Gryffindor would once again come in handy right about now.'

I heaved a sigh, then placed the scroll back on the shelf. I decided to take some time to think about what I had learnt, and opened the door, nearly colliding with one of the Hobbits I had seen earlier.

"Oh, sorry sir!" The Hobbit quickly apologized, before he backed up slightly.

He was a couple feet shorter than me, and had shaggy dark blonde hair that went slightly past his ears. His face was gentle, he wore a half smile but there was a sadness in his brown eyes. His clothes were slightly dirty, and his feet neatly groomed.

"It's alright, Master Hobbit, I wasn't paying attention." I smiled at him slightly.

"Hullo, I'm Samwise Gamgee, but everyone just calls me Sam-" Sam reached his hand out and I shook it- "and that's Strider. He looks like a villain but he's only just gone and saved Mr. Frodo."

I wasn't sure who Frodo was but Sam gestured behind him and I moved my gaze to the man that stood off to one side. I had to hold my breath, just for a moment so I could regain my calm. I tried to maintain my composure and not allow the myriad of emotions to play on my face. It was the man from earlier, the man that reminded me of Sirius; with his curly black hair and dark eyes. He looks so like Sirius it knocked me off balance just knowing he was not Sirius even though he looked remarkably similar. I forced myself to speak up when Strider raised an eyebrow, as I had been silent for longer than was normal.

"H-hi, I'm Harry, Harry Potter. It's a pleasure to meet you both." I internally winced at the initial stutter, glad I was able to control the words better as I spoke them. Part of me waited for recognition to show in their expressions, the usual barrage of questions and exclamations about how excited they were to meet the Harry Potter. I relaxed a little bit when nothing of the sort happened. It was then I remembered that no one actually knew who I am. It would probably take a little longer to get used to being in a different world than my own. "I should be on my way, they probably have my lunch ready by now. Excuse me." I bowed my head slightly and headed back towards my bedroom.

There were new dishes on the table, this time with a salad and glass of iced tea. I quickly ate, and contemplated going to see Elrond but I brushed off the idea, I had gotten a big chunk of information already. Simply knowing the Ring was basically a Horcrux made my skin crawl. I rather doubt they know what it was they were dealing with, aside from the fact that the Ring is dangerous of course, and that it could only be destroyed in the fires of which it was made.I knew that it didn't matter how I helped, whether I fought or just told them what I knew, I just had to help. I couldn't stay out of the war, and I didn't want to fight anymore, but if that was what it came to, I would help save Middle-Earth.

Chapter Text

I was standing in the centre of a medium sized garden, looking up at an enormous cypress tree. 'A tree that size has to be ancient. There were very few trees in the forbidden forest that were this big.' I turned in a small circle where I was and took in the rest of the garden. Small grey stones dotted along the ground, each row made clear pathways, weaved around various plants. I recognised a few of them; a mistletoe bush to the right, amaranth a little ways down with red flowers in full bloom, a lobelia sequestered in the back that had dozens of blue flowers in various states of bloom. To the left of me were various bloodroot plants, small and close to the ground they looked almost like daisies with their white flowers. I turned to the entrance; next, the large black arbour covered with a rose vine that was dotted with deep black flowers. The last plant I recognised were the three ash trees scattered about the garden, each one nearly as large as the cypress.

"Neville would have had a blast here," I whispered out loud, and squeezed my eyes shut against the threatening tears. The image of him being hit with the blood boiling curse right after he beheaded Nagini burned in my memory. 'I should have seen it coming. I should have saved him. I wish you could see this place, Neville, Hermione, Ron. You guys would love it.' I fell back against the sturdy trunk of the cypress and slid down until I reached the grass covered ground. I could feel the magic around me pulse slightly, as though trying to soothe my emotions. I rubbed at my eyes, then dived into myself in search of my core.

I expected to see a medium-sized, ice blue, core. Instead, there was an enormous swirling mass of black and green. My core had become unbalanced due to the wild magic mingling with it. I had become concerned, unsure what this exactly meant. I've had no real issues with my magic being uncontrollable since I got here, but this sight says I should be. I watched the ball of magic, tendrils occasionally slipping away before reattaching.

'It would help if I organised my memories and checked my occlumency shields. I should start meditating regularly and use more magic. Hopefully, it will start settling down then. Some of this extra power is probably from becoming the Master of Death.' I began leaving my core and slipped into a more profound state of meditation when I felt someone had entered the garden and stopped a few feet in front of me. I opened my eyes, body tense and ready to fight, and found a tall elf gazing at me. He had on a long tan coat that covered the clothes underneath, his blonde hair that fell past his shoulders had a fine braid on either side of his head that framed his pointed ears. His eyes were dark blue and curious, his expression soft.

I was stuck in another harsh memory, this one of Draco. There was a spell headed towards me; I hadn't seen it coming, and Draco shoved me out of the way. He died, screaming. 'Why didn't he use magic? Why had he shoved me out of the way?' I began to hyperventilate when the elf spoke up, shattering through the memory and panic with his soft voice.

"I apologise for interrupting your meditation. Should I come back later?" the elf asked, eyes not leaving mine.

I shake my head, "it's okay, I was just about done for today anyway," I stood and offered my hand, "I'm Harry Potter, it's nice to meet you." He took my hand in a firm grip before letting go. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Harry. I am Legolas Greenleaf, son of Thranduil." I went to speak, but stopped when Lindir walked up to us.

"Pardon me, but my Lord Elrond has requested I guide you to the council, Prince Legolas. He also states you are welcome to join, Harry." Lindir turned to each of us as he spoke and it took me a moment to process the fact Legolas was a prince. 'Draco would love that. Though he was pretty much royalty himself.' I frowned, and nodded in acceptance as Lindir took us to a large circular patio.

There were 17 chairs placed in a half circle, facing a stone podium where Elrond stood. I stood next to a dark brown haired Hobbit, who looked extremely nervous. Wondering where the other Hobbit was, I sent my magic out and found three others hiding nearby. I realised they were the other Hobbits I had seen enter Rivendell earlier.

'Friends of the Hobbit beside me, most likely. Maybe he is the Frodo that Sam mentioned.' Next to the Hobbit was an older male, holding a strange staff. I could sense the wild magic as it wrapped around the man in a gentle movement, and I couldn't be sure if he noticed or not. 'Maybe he is one of the Istari? Arwen had mentioned a Gandalf the Grey. He is definitely wearing grey.'

"Master Frodo, if you would bring forth the Ring." Elrond waved his hand toward the podium, and I was caught off guard. 'Why would Frodo have the ring? Maybe no one else can handle it? That's how it had been with Slytherin's locket, I had the least amount of trouble with it.' I held in a sigh as Frodo walked forward, trying to appear calm. The moment the Ring was placed on the podium, its darkness rushed through me and for a second I had been unable to breathe. I took a shaky deep breath before forcing the darkness of the Ring away, glad when it didn't try to overwhelm me once more.

"I think we should use it against our enemy!" A blonde male with a neatly trimmed beard and wearing slightly fancier robes stood up, grinning, his eyes not leaving the Ring.

"Fool, the Ring has no master, it would consume you." It was Strider who replied, and I forced any memories away so I could focus on what was being said.

"What would you know? You are nothing more than a ranger," the blonde growled over at him, his eyes finally left the Ring.

"He is no mere ranger! " Legolas jumped up to join in. "He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir of Isildur."

Strider, who's apparently really Aragorn, looks over at Legolas as he speaks. I don't know why Legolas revealed Aragorn's identity without consent and I almost glared at the elf in irritation but held myself back from doing so, as it would not have helped the situation any. I huffed, and glanced down at the Hobbit beside me who looked terrified but was hiding it well enough for the others to not notice. I knelt down next to him, and showed him my right hand, palm up. Closing my hand when he looked at me, confused, I hope what I want to do with my magic will work.

'Judging by my current core, it should work.' Closing my eyes to concentrate I didn't notice everyone else had shifted their attention to me. Gathering magic into my palm, I began to solidify it into the desired form. A moment later I opened my eyes, noticing everyone else watching me, and let my palm open to reveal a small animated Hungarian Horntail dragon made of black and green ice. 'I was going for a cat, actually. The dragon reminds me of the Triwizard championship too much for it to be comfortable. All those people cheering, the pressure put on me to get the egg from an angered mother who had been scared and confused.' I gently grasped Frodo's hand and let the dragon walk over to him.

"Woah, it's so cool! How did you do that?" Frodo asked, his fear replaced with fascination. I shrugged, not really sure how to explain gathering magic and solidifying it.

"It's a secret, and he will disappear in an hour, you can keep him until then."

"Thanks!" Frodo grinned, watching the dragon walk around his palm. I nodded and stood up, looking to Elrond who inclined his head toward me before turning to the others. They were still staring, the old man's eyes full of curiosity and Legolas was about to speak, but Elrond brought their attention back to the main topic.

"The Ring must be taken to Mordor and destroyed in the fires of Mount Doom," Elrond finished, and I heard as one of the dwarves scoffed before standing, hefting his axe into the air. I quickly moved forward to stop him from doing something stupid, like try to break the Ring with an axe.

"Stop!" I was too late, as the dwarf brings his axe down in one swift movement, it shattered the podium and left the Ring unharmed. At least I was able to get out a wand and cast Protego around Elrond to protect him from being injured.

After a few moments I settled back into my spot next to Frodo, letting the spell be dropped. I left my wand, the elder wand, out just in case as an argument began to break out, eventually getting to the topic of who would take the Ring. I mostly ignored it, until I noticed Frodo shift before slipping from his chair.

"I will take the Ring." Frodo's voice was too soft for anyone else to hear, and dread filled me at his words. 'Why is it the young and the innocent that get sacrificed for the greater good? It's not right.' Frodo repeated himself, walking forward a few more steps. I sighed, casting a silencing spell on everyone arguing. It took a few seconds before they realised they couldn't talk and some began to panic.

"Calm down please, it's only a silencing spell, and I can easily remove it. Before I do though, I believe Master Frodo has something to say." I nodded over at the Hobbit, and he smiled up at me before turning to Elrond.

"I will take the Ring to Mordor. Though I know not how to get there." Checking that another argument wouldn't start, I canceled the spell, several people watching as I waved the elder wand. The older male watching me with a gleam in his eyes that made me slightly confused, and I noticed Legolas also looking at me but with more of a thoughtful expression. 'I suppose that was the first time I had one of my wands out in the open for them to see clearly.'

"If you are certain, then you may take the Ring." Elrond accepted Frodo's offer, and I frowned, unable to let him go without help.

"I wish to go with him, Lord Elrond." I stepped up next to Frodo, wand sliding into its holster once more. It took only a moment before the older male also stepped up, placing his hand on Frodo's shoulder with a smile. Legolas stood next, followed by Aragorn, Gimli and the rude blonde man. I felt glad Frodo had so many willing to help, and Elrond began to speak but stopped when the three Hobbits emerged from hiding and declared they were also going. Elrond smiled at the small group.

"Very well. Ten companions travelling together to Mordor. Let this be the creation of the Fellowship of the Ring." Everyone fell silent, like the weight of what was going to happen had finally sunk in. The silence was broken, though, by a Hobbit.

"Great! So why are we going there?"

Sam groaned. "To destroy the Ring, Pippin, weren't you listening?"

Pippin blushed, shrugging. "Sorry, I was thinking about food."

I looked at each of the people I would be travelling with, trying to gauge their abilities and see who would be most likely to fall victim to the Ring first. I could feel a long trip ahead of us, but glad I would be going so I may help the brave Hobbit, and make sure Master Frodo remains safe. This was my choice, and now I would have to see it through to the very end.

Chapter Text

I stood in the hallway outside what I just got used to feeling was my bedroom, and I stared down at the object Elrond was holding out to me. I was unsure if the sword was even meant for me; I really didn't know what to say.

"This is Hathellas; may it serve you well. Consider it a gift from Rivendell." Elrond smiled.

I reached out to take the sword which was lighter than it looked, it was very different from the Sword of Gryffindor.

"Why are you giving me a sword as a gift?" I ask.

I was used to my only weapon being my wand after all. I slowly pulled it from the black leather casing. It was long and broad, as I inspected it I noticed just how thin the blade is, and how elegantly it is shaped. The silver metal gleamed in the light, showing tiny words etched in elvish; they spelled out the swords name in an elegant script. The 'T-shaped' hilt was wrapped in an emerald cloth with small dark red agate stones embedded along the guard. The grip seemed as though it was made just for me. The sword came to a strange point, shaped similarly to that of a leaf. I was amazed at the quality and beauty of the sword and reverently sheathed it back in its scabbard. As I looked up, I see Elrond watching my inspection of his generous gift.

"I have foreseen trouble on the road ahead Harry, it will be a long journey, and this sword is elven made. It glows blue when orcs are near, and it will serve you well, it will not break so easily."

"Thank you, Lord Elrond. This is a generous gift, and I accept it gladly. I can promise you it will not leave my side." I gave a bow of my head, "if there was nothing else I believe it is time to meet the others at the entrance."

"You are most welcome. I wish you a safe journey and may the Valar protect you." Elrond finished.

I shift the pack that had been made for me; I now had a good supply of clothes and rations, and I strap the holster around my waist. Then I make my way to the others; we were about to set off on our quest. By the time I got there, everyone else had already arrived.

"I apologise for being late; Lord Elrond had something for me." I nod to my new companions, or was it a fellowship they called it?

"Nevermind, you are here now, we weren't waiting too long," Gandalf spoke almost curtly, but there was no real anger there. "It is important to remember that this is a quest of haste and secrecy, and now if everyone is ready I believe we should begin our quest of the Ring; Frodo, after you."

Frodo looked a little unsure as he walked out of the great entrance of Rivendell. Gandalf was behind with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Mordor, Gandalf? Is it left or right?" Frodo asked unsurely.

"Left." Gandalf steered the little Hobbit with a gentle hand.

Everyone followed close behind. I could feel the harsh glare from the rude male, Boromir - if I remember rightly, his distaste was evident though it was easy to ignore.

"Introductions! Since our strange new companion doesn't know who everyone is yet. I can start; my name is Gandalf the Gray, and I am one of the Istari." Gandalf said eying other companions to follow suit.

"Harry and I had already met, but I am from Mirkwood, the realm of the woodland elves." Legolas smiled at me, his tone gentle. I returned the smile, wondering where Mirkwood was. Gimli spoke up next.

"I am Gimli, son of Glóin, a dwarf warrior of Erebor!" Gimli's voice is gruff but confident, and his long red beard twitched with each word.

"Boromir, son of Denethor, Lord of the City of Gondor." He spoke with an air of arrogance that put me off right away.

I wonder, is that all he has to say? I am already sure that we won't get along. I also worry he may try something stupid at some point or another.

"Aragorn." The dark man spoke.

This was the one that reminded me of Sirius. He bows his head slightly in greeting, successfully diverting all attention from Boromir's attitude. Returning the gesture, I turned to the four Hobbits next.

"Frodo, Sam and I believe you are Pippin?" I smile at them.

Pippin was nodding his head in agreement. "And he's Merry!" Pippin gestured to the fourth Hobbit who had shaggy blonde hair, longer than Sam's. He had so far remained quiet.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all. I hope we can get along - even grow to be close friends." I glance at Boromir, who merely grunts in response. "I have found a quest is more bearable with good company," I state pointedly.

"Now we all know each other; who are you and why have you accompanied us on this journey?" Gimli asks, staring at me.

We had all stopped for a moment, resting for the Hobbits. I wondered how best to explain. I held in a sigh, glancing around before I found myself looking at Legolas' curious expression. Somehow I was drawn to him, and he relaxed me under the scrutiny of the others. I didn't really want to explain, but they deserved to know.

"My name is Harry Potter, son of James Potter. I'm not from this - realm? But I am coming to help win this war; unfortunately, I have experience with Dark Lords." The image of Voldemort flashed behind my eyelids as I blinked, the sounds of his laughter ringing in my ears. I struggle to ignore it, but I once again find my gaze falling to Legolas and feel calmer.

"How do you plan to help us, Mr Harry Potter?" Aragorn questions, confused but eyes are drawn to the sword at my side.

"I am a novice with the sword, having virtually no experience, but I am a Wizard." I turned my attention to the male.

Aragorn doesn't say anything, though there is a slight widening of his eyes which betrayed his surprise. 'When I cast that silencing spell weren't they paying attention? Or was it not as obvious as I thought it was?'

"But you're so young!" Legolas exclaimed, a faint smile playing on his lips.

"Impossible, where is your staff?" Gimli and Boromir both questioned, both more aggressive than the rest.

I pull out the Elder wand, casting a faint Lumos charm - something to evidence what it truly is.

"That is pretty amazing. You could be better than Gandalf!" Pippin laughed. Gandalf pursed his lips at the youngest of the Hobbits.

"Is that stick your staff?" Sam asked.

I sighed, letting the Elder wand roll along my palm.

"If you remember, I used this at the council; I cast the silencing spell? It's my wand, which I assume is somewhat similar to Gandalf's staff. I may be young, but I am a wizard." That's when they started looking a bit more convinced.

I grip the wand, hoping I actually used this one and not Draco's. I'm not sure if any of them should find out I have two wands.

"I refuse to believe such a scrawny boy can be a wizard without a staff." Gimli huffed as he continued walking.

With the conversation over, and starting to feel thoroughly scrutinised, I fell towards the back of the company. I was soon joined by a curious Aragorn.

"How do I know I can trust you?" Aragorn questioned, his voice was quiet, and his eyes were fixed, almost protectively, on the group of Hobbits.

I looked at him, and replied, "Yes, you can trust me. I'm not sure what I can say to prove myself to you though. I swear my allegiance to Frodo and the quest to destroy the Ring, I don't know that there is anything else I can say."

"I believe that will do for now, Mr Harry Potter," he answered looking deep into my eyes. The look let me know he heard and believed me, to an extent anyway.

The next few hours were spent walking through flat deserts and grassy plains, the only landmarks were the rare and abandoned collection of rough stone hewn buildings. No more words were exchanged between Aragorn and myself, and I appreciated the silence. It allowed me time to think, or wallow? 'Would Hermione and Ron agree with my choice to come along? They would have insisted on coming with me, just like Frodo's friends did.' I felt a pang of guilt and grief, wishing I had my companions with me. I sighed softly, brushing off Aragorn's questioning look. Eventually, we found a place to rest, and hopefully camp for the night as the sky threatened to grow dark. The area was covered with many large rounded boulders, with the largest in the middle of them that would be a good hiding place - or a good camp, I thought hopefully.

"We shall rest here," Gandalf spoke up.

The hobbits collectively cheered before immediately getting food out to eat. I found the least uncomfortable rock to sit on and dug into my own bag; eventually, I located a few dozen slices of dried bread. I took out a slice, eating it quickly. The bland taste is barely registering.

"Hobbits, how would you like to learn some basic swordplay?" Boromir asked, moving to a large open piece of land, the only flat place nearby, drawing out his sword.

Merry and Pippin quickly scrambled to their feet, also pulling out their swords. Aragorn shifted to a different spot, to watch over the two Hobbits with Boromir. I kept a close eye over everyone and the surrounding area. I noticed a shift in the magic around us, this was all at the same time Merry and Pippin tackled Boromir to the ground. I reached out with my own magic to investigate, only to come across a rather large aura of dark magic, and it was headed straight for us. I stood and reeled my magic back in before it could be noticed. 'I can't see what it is from this distance. Maybe Legolas can? Elves have superior sight after all.'

"Legolas, something is coming from the west."

I didn't raise my voice, despite the other male being too far out of normal hearing range, and felt a small rush of excitement when Legolas heard me perfectly fine. 'That may be useful.'

"Crebain from Dunland; hide!" Legolas shouts.

The entire fellowship began to rush, scrabbling for bags, desperate to find a hiding place. I followed suit after making sure everyone else was hidden. I watched the sky, and after a few moments, a huge flock of black crows fly over us. Once they are gone, we leave the hiding spot, and Gandalf faces us.

"Spies of Saruman! I am going to take us to the pass of Caradhras." He declared.

No one questioned the decision and we began at once. We trekked almost constantly, and I don't think anyone expected the snow to be this bad, we only managed to reach the knees of the mountain before turning back was considered.

"We should go through Moria!" Gimli states, eyeing the mountain with distaste.

"Yes, perhaps we should." Gandalf grumbled, staring ahead at the path.

"Gandalf, the Mines of Moria are dangerous, we should not go there unless we have to. I fear what we may find." Aragorn spoke up. Gandalf considered his words for a few moments before nodding.

"I agree with Aragorn on this. We shall continue forward."

Not wanting to be neck deep in snow, I cast a featherlight and warming charm on everyone. They look at Gandalf as though he's the one who cast the spells. Legolas and Aragorn are the only two who saw me cast them and they nod their heads in thanks. As though knowing what is happening, Gandalf speaks without turning to look at the group behind him,

"Do not look at me, it was Harry who did it."

There is an amused tilt to his voice that is more than likely visible in his eyes. I ignore the surprised inhale from Boromir.

"How do you do magic with a wand instead of a staff?" Frodo asked as he glanced at the wand in my hand. I put it back in the holster, and he shifts his gaze to Gandalf's staff.

"It is very similar, I think, as far as I can tell the only real difference is size. Gandalf channels his magic into the staff much the same way I channel mine into the wand." I try to explain, it's not like I had ever really understood the theory behind the wand. I can't help feeling that Hermione would be able to explain so much better.

Frodo nods at my explanation before getting distracted by Merry who was telling a tale of one of his and Pippin's misadventures. I focus on the walk up the mountain when a flash of red and yellow a few feet ahead catches my attention, and I jog ahead of the others to see what it is. I come face to face with a young snake tightly curled into itself on a rare snow-free crack. I crouch towards it, tiny black eyes following my movements.

*You are the snake speaker, yes?*

Knowing Legolas will hear anything I say, I simply nod. I worry that this talent still has unsavoury connections to dark magic. I don't really want him to think that of me.

*I was dropped here by a careless bird. Will you take me somewhere warmer?*

I nodded again before picking the small snake up, and she hissed as she came into contact with my warming charm. The others have almost caught up just as she settled across my shoulders. Frodo dashes up to me, having noticed the snake but not the rock in his path, he trips over it into the snow. In the span of two seconds, the chain around his neck comes loose and the Ring rolls to a stop against my right foot. The moment it touches me, it's pulsing darkness into my mind and I blank out my surroundings, unable to keep it at bay. Pushing it back is a struggle, and it's not until the ring is picked up that I let go of the tight barriers I tried to throw up in my mind to stop it. I nearly collapse to the ground, my descent being stopped by strong arms. I glance up to find Legolas looking at me with worry.

"So strange that something so small can cause such chaos." Boromir spoke in awe, the ring dangling from the chair in his fingers. The others have helped Frodo back up, and he's reaching out for the Ring which Boromir has yet to release from his hold.

"Give it back, Boromir." Aragorn warns, hand on his sword. Everyone is tense, Boromir doesn't seem to be listening. I stand up straight, nodding my thanks to Legolas and turned to Boromir.

"Boromir. Please return the Ring to Frodo before I have to stun you." I spoke, stern, and Boromir finally broke his gaze from the Ring.

"Look at everyone, tense over a ring." Boromir laughed, and finally let Frodo take the chain.

"Try not to lose it, Master Frodo," is all I say before walking on.

No one even commented on the snake. Ignoring the whispers and looks behind me, I keep walking until the air suddenly shifts and I feel dark magic gathering above us.

"Something is coming," I yell over my shoulder just as a voice begins blooming all around us.

"It's Saruman!" Gandalf yells out. "He's trying to bring down the mountain,"

"Gandalf we must turn back, it's too dangerous!" Aragorn shouts towards the Istari. "The Hobbits can't handle this."

"No, we must continue!" Gandalf demands.

It's then that I feel the spell snap into completion, thunder roaring above us and lightning flashing in an angry storm. The wind is snapping around us, cutting at our bodies as though it could draw blood. Suddenly, seconds after the spell completes, the ground underneath us trembled once, then twice. Immediately I knew that it's going to trigger an avalanche. 'He is trying to bury us in the snow!' I panic, there isn't enough time to warn them, and I choose instead to cast a shield and thrust my wand-wielding hand toward everyone.

"Protego!" I yell.

The spell shoots out, covering everyone in a nearly visible dome, just as an avalanche crashes against us. After a few moments, the storm has died back down so I release the spell and everyone checks for injuries. I work on catching my breath from the overpowered spell as Gimli speaks.

"We should go to the Mines of Moria. My people will welcome us!" Gimli insists.

Gandalf's hesitation makes me suspicious. 'He's hiding something that we should know about. Especially if it will put us in danger. The tension between Gandalf and Aragorn is also concerning.'

"Let the Ring bearer decide," Gandalf states, looking towards Frodo.

"Oh...um—we will go through the mines of Moria," Frodo stutters out, and Gandalf sighs as though resigned to something he'd rather avoid.

"Very well." Is all Gandalf says before he begins to lead us back down the mountain. As if by magic the storm that's raging lets up, as though happy now that the fellowship had turned tail.

Chapter Text

Legolas POV

We reached the end of the mountain path and found snow-free ground. Harry had paused, placing the snake on the ground. I was curious; I hesitated and watched the strange interaction. I could see and hear the snake hissing to Harry which struck me as odd; it was almost like a conversation. Harry kept his face blank and his body language was relaxed, maybe this was a usual occurrence, though I couldn't fathom how.

'Maybe he can talk to snakes? Or at least understand them? But that's impossible isn't it?'

I continued to watch; Harry's lips twitched up in a ghost of a smile before the snake began to slither away. I was captivated watching the young man as he stood up and glanced at me. I didn't bother pretending I hadn't been observing, and the wizard calmly walked over to me.

"Was the snake okay?" I asked as I tilted my head slightly in askance, a slight smile playing on my lips.

Harry blinked at me confused, "Yea-" he paused, looking into my eyes for a moment, as though deciding if he would be honest or not, "she was fine, just cold and hungry."

"She was hungry?" I repeated with an amused smirk, 'how can he know that?'

"Yes, she-" Harry paused shifting his gaze, brows drawn together slightly, "it was easy enough to guess. It looked like she hasn't eaten in a while and when she climbed to my shoulder, I noticed she was a female." He fumbled over the obvious untruth. I could sense the dishonesty but also a rather strong nervousness.

'What is he not saying? It can't be that bad.'

Harry's gaze met mine and we stared at each other, just for a few moments before he hurriedly turned back to the others. All I could think was that he's searching my expression and body language for something untoward. I go to speak but I am cut off by the company's need for rest; the Hobbits' stomachs gurgled in hunger.

Gandalf sighed, he seemed annoyed, though I knew him better than that. His focus was on the task at hand, and he is impatient. But with Gandalf there is always a hidden softness that others miss.

"I suppose this is a good a spot as any to stop for the night."

Merry and Pippin cheered as they quickly began getting food out, Aragorn began gathering firewood and Gimli was already getting his tinder box out. Everyone worked at getting camp set up, but now they had it down to a fine art. We stopped in a small glade at the edge of a forest, the clearing was open and flat. Everyone was set out in a circle, all facing the spot were Gimli would soon have a roaring fire, and Sam would surely cook something quite spectacular. With the sun just starting to set, it wasn't just safer, the view was also stunning.

"I'll go get some rabbits or something for us to cook." Harry looked over at the forest, wand slipping into his hand.

'He called it the elder wand right? I wonder why it is named as such. He holds it like it's all he has to keep going, but at the same time, it's like he wants nothing to do with it. It's strange.' I can't help but wonder about so many things to do with Harry. I can't help my focus being on him.

"I will join you." Boromir followed, his face carefully blank, as though he wanted to hide his thoughts on or from the strange wizard.

Harry only nodded and they walked away. As they disappear behind the trees, I feel his gaze on me too. I felt a strong urge to follow, not trusting Boromir with the young wizard.

"Are you sure it's a good idea to let them go alone? Even an Orc could sense the tension between those two." Gimli asked in his gruff voice, and I looked at him, knowing he's right.

"Harry would know if I followed them, and I don't think he would be welcoming of my concern." I replied with less vigour, the urge to follow and protect is strong, but the fear that he would not want that is far stronger.

Gimli snorted, turning away as Aragorn put the firewood on the ground. It's another ten minutes until Harry and Boromir returned, a rabbit in each hand. Neither one said anything as they sat down and handed over the spoils. Sam began getting the food ready. I quietly looked Harry over for injuries, only relaxing when I know that he is ok, when he catches my eye.

Later that night, I took first watch. The others needed their rest and I felt the need to think tonight. It didn't take long for everyone to fall asleep, it had been a long day's march, I was soothed by the sounds of soft snoring. Harry had been the last one to fall asleep. He is an enigma, one I was oddly drawn towards, it has been this that had my mind occupied tonight. There have been so many things left unanswered. I sighed softly, gazing at the sky.

'Who is Harry Potter? A wizard from a different realm? How does he already have experience with a Dark Lord? What realm? What kind of experience? How did he get here? Did the Valar send him?'

I turned my gaze to Harry's sleeping form, as I mulled over all these questions. He hardly eats or sleeps, he's constantly vigilant, and there's a strange scar on his forehead.

'Maybe if I could get him to open up to someone, he could relax easier.' All I wonder is if he would open up to me.

I was about to move into a more comfortable position when Harry twitched once, and then again; I noticed his face is twisted into an expression of pain. Immediately standing, I moved over and kneeled next to him. I reached out to wake him, only for Harry to grab my wrist, thrusting his wand to my throat. The first thing I noticed was the pure fear in his eyes, the second was the wand he held wasn't the same one he had drawn earlier, the elder wand. He gripped it like it was his last hope, like it was the most important thing he owned. There was an uncertainty with the elder wand, unlike the steady grip he has on this one.

"Sorry," Harry whispered as the tension dissipated, he then let go of me and put the wand away. I wonder if I should ask about the difference.

"It's alright, it was my fault for startling you," I whispered back as Harry reigned in his emotions, "you should rest some more if you can."

"I don't think I'll be able to." Harry shrugged, sitting up. He looks at me intently and he seems so lonely, I wonder again if he could open up to me, and I find myself wanting him to, more than before.

"I will keep watch; you don't have to worry," I told him.

He searched my expression for any lies. Eventually, he agreed and laid back down. I decided to settle next to him, I gently put my hand on his shoulder, a reminder for him that I'm there. He glanced at me, I think he huddled closer but I couldn't be sure. He closed his eyes, falling asleep a few minutes later. I remained where I sat until the others began to stir the next morning, moving before they see how closely I guarded him. Harry woke up as soon as I moved my hand, neither of us bring it up.

Harry POV

Last night had been...odd. Well, the whole day really. Ever since we left the mountain, I had felt Legolas looking at me and have caught his gaze numerous times. I've wondered what he's thinking about when he's gazing at me. Or just in general. I had let the snake leave once we reached warmer weather, and she made a comment about her and I making hatchlings together had we been the same species. If Legolas hadn't of been observing us, I would have laughed. As it was, it was difficult to not even smile. Since he questioned me -out of curiosity or suspicion I do not know- I can only assume he'd seen my struggle to keep a neutral expression.

I sighed, thoughts whirling around the blonde elf. After we stopped for the night and Boromir followed me to get some rabbits, part of me wanted Legolas to follow even though I would have been bothered by the protective nature of such an act. Boromir and I hadn't spoken a word to each other thankfully. But the weirdest part was when we went to bed. I had one of my usual nightmares, centered around the Battle of Hogwarts, and I watched as my comrades fell one by one as Voldemort laughed. I felt bad for nearly cursing Legolas, he didn't know not to wake me up like that, but I was grateful he did wake me.

I didn't have another nightmare after he promised to watch over me. The feel of his palm on my shoulder made me feel safe, something I hadn't felt for a long time. Sometimes I wondered what exactly it is I feel for Legolas. I had never thought about what my sexuality is exactly, having been focused on surviving the war. I assumed I was straight. However, looking at Legolas...maybe I'm not so straight after all? I wish Hermione and Ron were here so I could talk to them about this. I know they wouldn't care either way so long as I'm happy. I released another heavy sigh; felt Legolas' concerned gaze on me, and refocused on the idle chatter between the Hobbits.

We had been walking for a while now, and I've spent most of it either poking around the natural magic or investigating the knowledge I acquired of being 'The Master of Death'. I guess I was trying to ignore the intimacy I felt with Legolas last night. I decided early on to pretend the previous night never happened.

So far I had learned I could borrow small amounts of magic from nature, and possibly large quantities. I don't want to risk overloading my still unstable core. Another thing I learned is that the trees whisper, it is truly a wonder and I found it fascinating. I wondered if this is part of the reason that I experienced more natural magic here. As 'The Master of Death' I had immortality, I heal at an accelerated rate, I could sense specific life forms within a certain radius, and I might be able to use my magic to heal others - something I had not been forced to try yet. That could only be a good thing. The prospect scared me a little bit though, I was never good at healing spells.

'Hermione was though, same with Luna.'

A sharp twinge griped my heart and I momentarily stumbled before regaining my balance, only to find everyone looking at me.

"Are you okay Mister Wizard?" Pippin asked, eyes wide.

I smiled slightly at him, "I'm fine, I tripped over a rock."

"A rock, you say?" Sam questioned, eyebrow raised.

"Er- I don't see any rocks." Frodo gestured to the ground, which is void of rocks, Merry nodding in agreement.

"Neither did I, I guess that's the problem," I attempted a joke, hoping to move on.

"Never mind that, we're almost there. Come along now." Gandalf urged us forward, and we kept going for at least another half an hour.

We finally reached the doors of Moria. The first thing I noticed was the giant spark of life in the dank, dark lake - it was easy to recognize as a giant squid. I had a feeling this one wasn't going to be as welcoming as the one in the black lake at Hogwarts. Then I noticed the engraving on the cliff-face as the moonlight hit the hard rock, silver tendrils flowed through the engraving, it glowed brightly in the dark. The bright lines formed an intricate archway with vines wrapping around two shining columns, on each side is a holly tree. Words were written around the arch. I was more focused on the lake though, worried the creature might be woken up.

"Don't disturb the water." I warned the more mischievous Hobbits, only to hear a heavy thunk at the end of my sentence. I looked over at Pippin who glanced away guiltily.

"Sorry, Mister Wizard," Pippin said.

I sighed, hoping the squid didn't wake up. I kept an eye on the water as the others try to open the door. Gandalf tried many words, commands, incantations, but nothing seemed to work.

"What's 'friend' in elvish?" Frodo asked.

I blurted out "Mellon" before realising it.

I turned at the sound of a sharp inhale, and locked gazes with a shocked Legolas and Aragorn. Boromir's eyes were narrowed in suspicion, everyone else simply seemed to be curious. Legolas kept his eyes focused on me, and I could practically see him thinking. I looked away before anything could be said.

'I need to ask Eru about this.' I made a mental note to myself. Though I seemed to have no control as to when I would speak to this strange deity.

Before anything else could be said though, the heavy stone door slowly began to swing open. At the same time the squid started to emerge. Gimli let out an anguished cry, and fear gripped me like a giant knot in my stomach. The squid's numerous tentacles burst from the lake and reached for Frodo, the tentacles seemed to search and feel the small Hobbit, who squirmed. Frodo is trying to break free and cries out for Aragorn. Aragorn immediately went to Frodo's aid. Legolas joined the fray, all of us worked together to try and save the ring bearer. I raised the elder wand, I tried to direct my magic at the squid only, not wanting to harm my companions.

"Sectumsempra!" I shouted, my mind going to the man that saved me so many times and the creator of the deadly spell.

I cast the spell, severing many of the tentacles, including the one holding Frodo. Aragorn caught him as he fell from the clutches of the enormous beast, and we all rushed into the mines. The squid didn't give up easily, and grasped at the doors, trying to catch his prey, however it only managed to collapse the entrance behind us.

"Lumos," I cast the simple spell as Gandalf also lit his staff with a simple tap to the ground. I looked around, unnerved by all the skeletons littering the ground. We began walking, the silence only occasionally broken by Gimli. He still believed he would find his kin here, but we all could see that this was now a tomb.

"Do you feel that?" Legolas whispered once we were both far enough back from the group.

I nodded in reply, feeling the creeping life-form following our company at some distance. We eventually reached a three-way split in the road and stop. I had been busy feeling around what's following us, not paying attention to where we're going.

"I have no memory of this place," Gandalf muttered and sat on a nearby stone. Frodo eventually went over, and they spoke in hushed tones.

I turned to Legolas and whispered, "they do not feel threatening at the moment, but we should be careful just in case."

Legolas inclined his head slightly, and I was about to offer Gandalf assistance when he suddenly stood.

"Oh yes. This way." We followed him down the far right path, my senses on alert. Something dark laid sleeping in here.

"You remembered!" Merry said cheerfully.

"No, but the air isn't as foul this way." Gandalf pauses, "If in doubt, always follow your nose." Gandalf said proudly. He reminded me more of Albus when he said things like that.

Chapter Text

The flight of stairs that Gandalf led us down seemed endless until they finally leveled out to flat ground. We had been walking for two hours, the dark corridor never changing. I held back from the group, Legolas two steps ahead. I could tell he was aware of everyone around him.

'I'm a little relieved he's sticking close by; it seems I find it easier to be near him than any of the others. With them, it's more awkward, tense and I don't know how to act around them; it's like they think I'm going to suddenly attack them. With Legolas it's effortless.'

"Harry?" Frodo fell into step beside me.

"Yes, Frodo?"

"Thank you, for helping you know, with the squid," Frodo said, eyes flitting around nervously.

"You're welcome," I smiled at the nervous Hobbit, who returned an uneasy smile, then caught back up with his friends. And I guess this proves my point about the others.

We stopped sometime later, planning to rest for a few hours.

"I can take first watch," I offered, no one argued with the idea. We finished getting food out. It was silently agreed that there wouldn't be a fire - it's too dangerous - enemies were lying in wait.

Once we got settled, Legolas sat closer to me than usual, at first I am able to relax, feeling his presence wash over me like a soothing blanket. Then I feel an unsettling presence weighing on me, overcoming Legolas' own with darkness. It was too far away to identify, but I could tell it wasn't good. This new information put me on edge, Legolas also tensed in response to my uneasiness. Until a bright light obscured my vision and I knew I would be speaking with Eru; Lord of the Valar.

"Eru," I spoke softly, the visit was unexpected.

"Hello again, Harry Potter. You have questions?" The Lord of the Valar asked calmly, though I felt it was obvious he already knew the answer. I decide to answer him, regardless.

"Yes, it's about my ability to read and speak elvish. You said I would only know the language of Westron?" the confusion I felt bled into my voice, I didn't bother to try and mask it.

"After some debate, it was decided that you needed to know elvish. We have seen much in your future to do with the Elven race."

"Okay, but why?" I asked, still confused but suspicious now as well - I am all too familiar with the idea of wiser beings and their hidden motives.

"I cannot be specific. I can only say it will make some things easier in the future." He replied.

Again I am frustrated. It reminds me of some of the more negative aspects of my relationship with Albus Dumbledore. I loved the wizard, but I am sick of being kept in the dark.

"You need to tell me something," I demanded, but my tone still soft.

"I believe it will aid your more important relationships. It is best to cut this short, as your companions are getting worried. Until next time, Harry." Eru finished vaguely, though I feel more satisfied with the little explanation he gave.

I blinked a few times and found myself back in the dark corridor with the others, feeling more than a little awkward. All of them were staring at me; Legolas had moved closer to me and placed his hand on my arm, probably at some point when I was engaged in conversation with the deity.

"Erm - sorry, did I miss something?" I asked fumblingly.

"Your expression became so vacant and then you wouldn't respond. We were worried for you, Harry," Aragorn said with a concerned expression, his face was warm and his tone caring.

"I'm fine, honestly - sorry for worrying you." Again, I fumbled over the words, not expecting such worry from them.

"You looked concerned while you were all spaced out." Sam said, affectionately, it made me wonder if I could be accepted by more than just Legolas, I smiled at him, trying to alleviate any fears.

"I was just thinking about something, it was a bit confusing but it's nothing to be concerned about."

"If you say so," Sam mumbled worriedly. He's clearly not convinced.

I looked at Legolas whose hand had been removed, I feel the absence more than I should, but I'm relieved that he hadn't moved from his spot beside me.

"You should get some rest Harry," Legolas speaks gently, a slight smile on his lips as he moved so he lay next to me. I was surprised when he laid down facing me, instead of the other way.

The next morning - I assume it's morning, but it is always dark here - I find that I would lose track of time easily as we walked through many halls and empty chambers. We could have been down here for weeks and I don't think I would know. We stopped every so often to eat and sleep. Thankfully I haven't had another nightmare yet, but that could change at any time. It could be the new sleeping arrangements, something that I am afraid to test, or maybe I just don't want to sleep anywhere other than at his side? I could still feel the aura of dark beings or creatures nearby, happy that they are not drawing closer. I can feel when they occasionally shift around. I hope we don't draw their attention - there is one aura that I sense, it's strong and probably the darkest I have felt since I first sensed the Ring.

We soon found ourselves at yet another long flight of stairs, this one eventually opened up to a vast open hall filled with giant columns. Each one had strange markings in the shape of a 'Y', or maybe it was a tree? I looked around in awe, wondering how the room had been constructed without the use of magic - I knew that the dwarves had constructed it and I couldn't help but be impressed by their skill. At first I had thought this world was more primitive, they don't have the mechanics that muggles use to achieve such feats, and yet this is far more majestic than anything I have ever seen. Continuing forward, we headed down the open walkway, stopping once we reached another room filled with the skeletons of dwarves slain long ago, all coated in cobwebs.

"No!" Gimli cried out, he rushed towards a single stone casket in the room.

The casket had strange symbols etched into the top, and I could only assume it read the name and date of passing in the dwarven language. I could feel Legolas' gaze on me, and I tried to reign in my memories, and mask any emotions I'd rather stay hidden. However, I didn't succeed and was suddenly back in the graveyard; where I tried to get Cedric to run for his life. Where I had watched Wormtail put the deformed Voldemort into the cauldron. Where I was tortured, writhing in pain on the ground - all after seeing Cedric fall as he was struck with the emerald curse. A hand on my shoulder awakened me from the memory, and I was vaguely aware that my body trembled as it remembered the fear.

"Are you okay?" It was Legolas, and I felt myself relax, almost leaning into his touch; the trembling eased up as I catch his gray eyes looking into my own, his care and concern evident.

"I'm okay. Thank you," I gave him a weak smile, which he returned was his own.

Legolas let his hand linger for a few more moments, and I'm slightly disappointed when he removes it from my shoulder. I get startled back into awareness of our surroundings when there are multiple loud 'thunks.' Looking over at Pippin, the Hobbit - who had clearly been dropping debris into a nearby well - had bowed his head in shame. By the expression on Gandalf's face there was likely to be a healthy dose of fear involved as well. It reminds me of the reaction of any student when faced with a very angry Professor Snape, for some reason this was a pleasant memory.

"Fool of a Took! Why not throw to yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!" Gandalf snapped, clearly upset; Pippin mumbled an apology which was almost too quiet to hear.

I was about to go to cheer him up, but the life forms I had been sensing suddenly seemed to wake, I felt as they began to move frantically. Then all at once dispersing, they were coming toward us. Then drums started to sound in the deep, and I knew they wouldn't be welcoming us to Moria like Gimli had been expecting his family to. It was obvious; they had destroyed all of Gimli's family.

"Harry, your sword is glowing. Orcs!" Legolas pointed out, and I reached for it, nearly having forgotten that it was even there.

"So is Mr. Frodo's!" Sam gestured toward a small sword in Frodo's palm.

A moment later, Legolas, Boromir and Aragorn burst into a flurry of motion. Legolas pulled his bow free, grasped it in his left hand, Boromir rushed to close the doors, narrowly avoiding being struck by two arrows in the process. Boromir got the large wooden doors shut, turning around and shouting;

"They have a cave troll!" he seemed faintly irritated more than anything.

My stomach dropped and again I am overcome; Quirrell was shouting about a toll in the dungeons. I remember the feeling I had when I realised that Hermione was trapped, the relief when Ron used Wingardium Leviosa. Then I get yanked harshly back to the present by a loud banging against the barricaded doors. I certainly hoped that this was like Quirrel's troll.

"Let them come!" Gimli growled, pain lacing his words, "There is still one dwarf in Moria that still draws breath!" he challenged.

I kept the sword in my grasp; it was too cramped to use a wand safely. 'Hopefully, I can manage to use this thing well enough.'

A bead of sweat rolled down my neck, and I ignored my nerves. All my focus was on the enemy slowly breaking through our barricade. Everything happened in slow motion, the door splintered, and Legolas released three arrows, immediately three of the Orcs are dealt with, and before they even had the chance to step into the room. Aragorn is next to him, his volley of arrows hitting their mark with ease. I'm dazed by the blatant show of skill, impressed by the amazing accuracy; then I joined the battle. Swinging the sword in short arcs, it sliced easily into the enemy as they stormed the small chamber we were in, killing them instantly.

Hundreds of Orcs filed into the room, an all-out battle between them and us. Blood was heavy in the air. The ease in which I handled this sword shocked me; I hadn't used one before - aside from against the basilisk - but it was like the sword was an extension of myself, as though I had used it for years.'Maybe Lord Elrond did something to it?' I thought.

I quickly lost count of how many Orcs went down by my hand, the stench of battle nearly made me sick. I quickly killed two more Orcs, as I am trying to pinpoint everyone's positions. Aragorn is nearby using his own sword - Anduril Flame of the West, as he had called it one day when we were talking. Sam was using a frying pan to my right. The other Hobbits using their small swords, Gimli wields his axe, and Boromir his sword while Gandalf expertly wields his sword, Glamdring. The troll lumbered in, slow and heavy. It quickly got free of the chains that bound him, the Orcs clearly captured the poor creature and used it, the chains only there to guide it. It didn't waste time attacking Orcs and the fellowship alike. I thought of Hermione and how she would have been devastated to witness the cruel treatment of this innocent creature.

I stood there in a daze, watching as it went after Legolas; the elf shot an ineffectual arrow towards the trolls rather bulbous head. Legolas' skill was evident as he evaded the enemy, he was agile and nimble as he leapt and flipped around the chamber. I couldn't help but admire the flexibility, deftness and grace that he moved with. Panic shot through me when the troll almost got ahold of him; the elder wand slipped into my palm almost reflexively, and I raised it toward the troll. I trust Aragorn - who was behind me - to watch my back as I focused on the spell I was about to cast. After being sure I wouldn't harm any of my comrades I bellowed out the spell with all the force I had;

"Reducto!"

The spell burst from my wand and hit the troll squarely in the chest. The curse exploded on impact and ripped a giant chunk, blood gushed from the large wound and the flesh flew in all directions as the troll swayed confused before it toppled over, lifeless. Everything and everyone paused, the fighting stopped momentarily. The shock affected my companions as much as the enemies surrounding us, and a second later the carnage resumed. The battle continued in a flurry of slicing and dodging and blocking.

"Mr. Frodo!" Sam yelled frantically.

Sam's cry pierced through the commotion of the slowing battle. I quickly cut my way toward the far wall, fearing the worst, the rest of the fellowship were already following. Once I reached the Hobbits - I arrived right after Aragorn - we found Frodo on the ground groaning and almost unconscious, though there was no sign of a wound.

Aragorn pulled Frodo into his embrace, and checked for the wound that had somehow taken him out of the battle. As he pulled his tunic aside he revealed a silver chainmail shirt underneath. The company gasped in awe for reasons I couldn't fathom, as many of the company wore chainmail.

"That spear should have skewered you like a wild boar!" Aragorn gasped.

"I don't understand, it's just chainmail - like yours, right?" I asked, confused about its significance.

"That is no ordinary chainmail Harry. That is Mithril!" Aragorn's voice filled with repressed awe as he stared down at the material.

"Mithril is a precious metal, and it can only be mined here in Moria. It is light as a feather and as hard as dragon scales." Gandalf explained, looking at my confused expression. "This one was a gift to Bilbo from Thorin Oakenshield"

"That is a kingly gift!" Gimli looked on in awe.

"Yes, I never told Bilbo but it's worth is greater than the entire shire!" Gandalf almost laughed, as Frodo gulped at the realisation, "we should move on while we can."

I sheathed my sword while Aragorn helped Frodo up from the floor.

"Can you stand, Frodo?" I heard Aragorn ask.

"I'm fine, Strider. I just feel like I have been caught between a hammer and an anvil." Frodo replied.

I followed them out of the room, keeping the Elder Wand tight in my hand, not letting my guard down. While we walk, I couldn't seem to help that my gaze continued to drift toward Legolas, I find that I am constantly wondering about him. I have found myself wanting to know more about the elf, but unsure if he would open up to me, afraid of him not wanting to. But I find I crave that closeness, not just the intimacy, but having someone to walk beside whom I can truly rely on and be relied on by.

We walked for a few more hours, not stopping until it felt safe enough. I had shared what I could feel with Gandalf, and we used this to stay away from the most dangerous parts of the mines. Everyone was silent as we set up camp, too exhausted to speak. I took the first watch, and everyone but Legolas fell asleep almost immediately, I spoke quietly.

"Hey, Legolas?" I whispered.

He twitched at the sudden noise, then turned to his side facing me.

"Yes?"

"Can you teach me how to use the bow and arrow once we get out of here?" I questioned, curiously.

Legolas sat up, scooted so we were sitting next to each other.

"But you are already more than efficient with your wand and sword, what would you need with another weapon for?" The elf smiled and his grey eyes lit up at our interaction, relaxing me just a little.

"I like to be prepared." I shrugged, I could see he was curious.

"Very well, I can teach you. I doubt you would be able to reach the level that me and my kin achieve - we have a much longer life span." Legolas' words were spoken calmly, no hint of cruelly, it was simply a fact.

I thought about Aragorn and his skill. I wondered if he was somehow an exception, or if there were something else at play here.

"I don't think my lifespan will be an issue." I shrugged at the thought and smiled ruefully.

"What do you mean?" Legolas frowned, my eyes followed his graceful movements.

"You should get some rest, Legolas. You can sleep there if you don't want to move." I silently hope he accepts the offer.

I had purposefully avoided the question, not wanting to mention my immortality. I have no idea how that would be taken. I don't really understand how I feel about it myself. I can't help but blush at my suggestion. Legolas' lip twitched upwards, laying down next to me so his arm lay a mere hair's breadth away from my thigh.

"Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight, Legolas." I smiled softly, butterflies in my stomach.

'Maybe things will work out in this realm after all.'

Chapter Text

They were running through an open corridor, Orcs hot on their trail, trying not to be trapped. The Hobbits continued to fall behind, unable to keep up with our longer strides. I kept my breathing steady, ready to help anyone that fell too far back, I couldn't risk them being caught. It felt like we had run for hours before the Orcs finally managed to trap us. We were surrounded by Orcs, all growling, gnashing their teeth, some even smirked. The fellowship got ready to fight. This time I slipped the Elder Wand into my hand rather than using the sword. I'm still curious about my being able to wield it so well. It also felt like the time to use the most powerful wand ever created.

As I prepared myself to cast a spell, and Legolas grabbed two arrows, the darker aura suddenly moved. I tensed, not wanting to face it. There was a feeling of inexplicable fear that came with the atmosphere. Legolas and Aragorn both notice my tensed posture.

Then it roars. The sound vibrated my very bones, and everyone was instantly on the defensive. Even the Orcs made haste to scurry away from the beast.

"Run?" I questioned, in a voice soft.

"Run," Aragorn repeated.

We turn and rush down the corridor as fast as we could. However, we were forced to slow slightly as we reach the narrowing stone pathways leading to the exit, Orcs shooting at us in the distance. We stumbled along, Gandalf was up front and Aragorn bringing up the rear - trying to keep us together. Things were going well until we noticed there's a huge gap in our path, it continued to grow bigger with each passing second - the rocks crumbling into what seemed to be an unending cavern. Gandalf was the first to cross, followed by Boromir. Before anyone else could manage to jump across, another mass of rock crumbled off on the other side. The gap was now vast, and there was more than a few feet to jump. Legolas gracefully leapt across, landing gently in front of Gandalf before turning around - naturally he made it look effortless.

"You will have to toss the Hobbits over. We will catch them." Legolas held his arms out, determined.

"Sam, come here." Aragorn gathered the largest of the Hobbits, smoothly chucking him into Legolas' waiting arms. Once Sam was safely on the other side he repeats the action with Merry and Pippin, then turned to Gimli.

"Oh no! None tosses a dwarf." Gimli huffed out, then backed up for a running start. The second his foot left the pathway, I knew he would fall short at the other end.

"Wingardium Leviosa," I sputtered, helping the stubborn Dwarf to safety. Gimli glared at me, but I shrugged it off, looking to Aragorn.

"You should go next," I told him, a sense of urgency rushing through me.

"You -" Aragorn cut off, a sudden large boulder breaking from the ceiling, destroying the path behind us, tilting the piece we are on forward. 'Oh bloody hell.'

I steadied myself, glancing back at the Ranger, Frodo beside him with eyes wide in fear.

"Go, I'll be fine," I said again, this time Aragorn didn't argue and jumped across, Frodo clutched tightly in his grasp.

The piece I'm standing on tilted forward faster from Aragorn's momentum. I wait until it's at the correct angle - as soon as it was aligned just right, I jump, landing in Legolas' arms, our chests bumping faintly and our arms wrapped around one another. I cling to him a little out of fear as I watch debris fall down the never-ending pit.

"Um, thanks, for helping me land." I stuttered out, quickly removing my arms from his shoulders - leaving what could be a loose embrace. 'Could that even be called an embrace?'

I frowned, and we continued forward as quickly as possible in the hope of making up for lost time - we didn't move fast enough though - as soon as we reached the last bridge, the beast emerged.

"Balrog!" Gandalf spoke with dread in his eyes.

Without confirmation, I knew this creature wasn't going to be easy to get past or to destroy. The sheer amount of darkness oozing from its aura made me nauseous, but I managed to contain myself. I need to focus on escaping with everyone else. We got halfway across the bridge - we were forced to go single file - before Balrog attacked, the beast large and seemingly made of fire and coals, huge curving horns on its head and a vast wingspan.

"Go, I will buy you time to escape," Gandalf spoke urgently, standing in front of Balrog.

The fellowship quickly ran the rest of the way to the exit. However, I stayed a few feet from Gandalf, preparing to help. Gandalf didn't notice.

"You shall not pass!" Gandalf commanded.

He thrust down his staff, an orb of light circled him. I saw Glamdring shining as it too was held aloft, warding off the demon. The Balrog wasn't backing down, and Gandalf slammed his staff into the ground once more, creating with it a burst of magic and bright light.

"I am a servant of the secret fire, wielder of the flame or Arnor; the dark fire will not avail you! YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" he commanded once more, it seemed to force the Balrog back slightly.

Balrog released another roar and lunged for the Istari. I blocked him with a strong protego, the strongest I could manage, and it startled Gandalf.

"Fool, run!" Gandalf shot the words in my direction, but I ignored him. The protego shattering under the creatures sheer force. The bridge was beginning to crack under the power of my spell along with Gandalf chanting. I scowled, throwing a few curses and hexes at the beast, but they did no damage, almost like a dragon, they don't do enough harm - they just make it angrier.

"Harry, get out of there!" Legolas shouted, panicked.

"Idiot wizard's you're going to get yourselves killed," Gimli growled out just loud enough to hear.

"Gandalf, Harry, run!" Frodo begged, held back by a resolute Aragorn.

The shouts were distracting, but I kept my focus on the task at hand. Balrog was grabbing for Gandalf again, and I raised my wand toward him.

"Sectumsempra," I spoke the curse, hoping to sever a limb or inflict some sort of wound.

The spell barely affected it, only succeeded in getting Balrog to divert its attention. Its head turned and finally settled on me standing off to the side. I braced myself, thrust my wand out with another spell on the tip of my tongue. Then all I knew was pain and screaming.

'Is it me screaming?' I think, my mind was fuzzy, 'no, that's Legolas.'

"Harry! Damn it Boromir; you are going to release me this instant!" Legolas snapped out, in a harsh and desperate tone. I'm distantly aware of Gandalf in front of me, the Balrog was gone, and he pressed against my stomach.

"Stay with us, Harry," Gandalf whispered, attempting to heal the damage but failing.

Everything was starting to go dark, and I could make out very little of what was going on. I try to open my heavy lids, but it's a struggle.

"Gandalf!" I hear Frodo's scream, the sound is shrill, and it pierces my ears.

I managed to open my eyes for just a moment, just as something wrapped around Gandalf's ankle, and yanked him into the dark abyss below. The entire fellowship rush over, there is so much noise as they all shout and cry for their fallen hero, and yet not believing what's happening. The clearest sound was Frodo's sobbing. I can see Aragorn clutched him to his side, Sam and Legolas leaning over me. It's getting so hard to stay aware of what's going on, everything is becoming blurry, and the sounds getting harder to understand.

"Come on Mr. Wizard, please don't leave us." Sam smiled shakily. His small hobbit hand grasps my own - I feel comfort from someone outside of Legolas for the first time since coming here.

"Harry, you'll be fine," Legolas spoke softly, whispering, though I'm not sure who he was trying to reassure, himself or me.

I opened my mouth, to try to tell him I was fine, only to cough up an obscenely large amount of blood. There's a noise, sudden, next to me that sounded suspiciously like a strangled sob. I slowly turned my head, startled to see Pippin struggling not to cry. It seems they all cared more than I knew.

"Come on. We have to get him outside," Aragorn spoke as his gentle hands picked me up.

I can't help the groan of pain that slipped past my lips at the movement. It hurts to be moved, it hurts to breathe, it hurts even to have my eyes open.

"Sorry," Aragorn whispered.

It was the last word I heard before the blackness overtook me.

Legolas POV

It was like time slowed down completely as I watched helplessly; the Balrog turned to Harry, stabbing a clawed finger into his chest. The monster extracted the claw from Harry's body with a wet sound, and it was coated in thick, shiny red liquid. My stomach dropped as I watched Harry slowly and painfully slumped to the ground, there was barely a sound. I was only vaguely aware of Gandalf falling in the abyss. Not wasting time I run to Harry's side, turning him onto his back. There was so much blood, and he had become pale and cold. I could tell that he was only able to process the pain, at least that's what I saw as the wound in his chest burned causing Harry to scream. I couldn't look at it for long, his flesh in tatters around the gaping hole. The fact Harry was alive was a miracle. It was more than likely due to his magic keeping him alive. It was a futile attempt, though, I could see the life slipping away. Harry was dead by the time we got outside. I gently laid him on the grass, my ear pressed to his heart, but there was nothing. I kept my emotions hidden, the sorrow swirled inside me uncontrolled, but I was unable to leave him.

'I never got to know him better. I never got to give him those lessons. He didn't get the chance to grow old - to love.'

I squeezed my eyes shut, kneeled next to the man I had slowly started to care about. I hadn't told the others of his passing, I didn't know how to say it. I didn't notice the wound steadily knitting itself back together, well not until I heard a faint inhale from the body in front of me. I'm suddenly overwhelmed with joy and gratitude for my sharper hearing abilities. I lay my head against his chest once more, sure enough, I hear his heart, though barely-there, it was slowly getting steadier. I wanted to laugh or cry in joy, but my shock drowned everything else out.

'That's impossible. Harry was - he was dead. No one can come back from that.'

I was about to get the others attention, brushing Harry's hair from his face, when I'm suddenly engulfed in black - a dark void of nothing. I gripped my bow, senses on alert.

"Fear not Elf, I mean no harm." A dark, hooded male spoke. He stood to my left, and I turned swiftly, startled.

'How did he sneak up on me?' I didn't relax, on alert.

"Who are you and where am I?" I ask, narrowing my eyes at the strange being. I wanted to get back to Harry.

The man sighed, leaning on a cane. His hair was cropped short and messy, pure black, his eyes were bright gold with slitted pupils, and his mouth was pulled into a frown. He's wearing strange robes that look to be emerald-colored silk with silver along the edges and a weird crest on the right side of his chest. His shoes are black, and the cane that he held was plain. His appearance isn't in the least bit comforting.

"It was supposed to remain a secret for at least another 300 years. And then only because people would start asking questions. Or maybe it was 200 years? Life spans are so different for mortal beings. Alas, there is nothing to do about it now. I am Death, and it is a pleasure to meet you Legolas." I stared at the strange being, questions dancing through my mind.

"How do you know my name?"

"I know many things, Legolas Greenleaf. That's not why I brought you here. There are things you should know, things that the others do not need to know."

"Shouldn't Harry tell me?" I relaxed slightly, releasing my bow, but did not let my guard down. I still don't believe the things this strange being tells me, least of all that he is the fabled Death.

"The stubborn fool will take far too long to say anything." The man - Death - snorted, "But he cannot die."

"What? But he was dead. His heart stopped beating."

"Oh, honestly did you see that wound? I had to stop the blood flow in his whole body, thus stopping his heart, so the wound would start to heal properly and prevent unnecessary blood loss. He will be fine. He'll have to rest of course, since I used his own magic to heal him."

"Okay," I spoke slowly, processing the information. "How is he unable to die?" I ask confused.

"He is the Master of Death. There are many other perks to that title, but immortality is the big one."

"The Master of Death? So would that make him your Master? How?" My brows creased, contemplating the information overload, "so Harry can't die and he is the Master of Death. Is this what he meant when he said his lifespan wouldn't be a problem?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes," Death rolled his eyes. "He holds all three Deathly Hallows, and they accept him as their Master. You can ask him about that when he wakes."

"How long does he need to rest for?" I asked.

"It depends on the wound, this one? Maybe a day, or two," he replied.

Suddenly we were interrupted by a loud beeping cutting our conversation short.

"Ah, that's my cue to leave. Goodbye Legolas, and say hello to dear Harry for me." Death snapped his fingers, shattering the black space.

A moment later I'm back with the Fellowship, and it was like barely a second had passed. I looked up from where I kneel, and I find four pairs of Hobbit eyes looking at Harry, filled with tears.

"Is Mr. Harry going to be okay?" Sam whispered. He didn't look up, and his eyes were glued to the wound.

"I do not know," I answered without thinking. I begin wondering if not telling them is the best course of action to take. "I think he needs rest," I say settling for half-truths.

"We should keep moving; it's too dangerous to stay out in the open" Aragorn said urgently. His expression didn't reveal anything. I knew he was just as upset as the rest of us, that he would sooner collapse with his grief, but he held the burden of leading us.

"But Aragorn, Harry can't be moved!" Frodo exclaimed.

"We either stay here and be killed, or we move and survive," Gimli stated, standing beside Aragorn with a frown.

I remained silent, gently pull Harry into my arms gently lifting him. I winced at the weak whine the man gave at the movement, wishing we didn't have to move.

"Let's go. We shouldn't waste any more time," I say as I stand and pull Harry close to my chest.

The Hobbits slowly following behind Aragorn and myself, gently sobbing. The rest of the Fellowship were following suit. I know that it's only a matter of time before the loss of Gandalf truly sunk in for everyone - but right now we were running on adrenaline, and for me, Harry's survival was the priority.

We walked for hours, only occasionally stopping. I was adamant that I could carry Harry the entire way. We finally reached a river where we could spend the night. I recognized it immediately.

"The river of Nimrodel." I breathed out, laying Harry down gently. I wondered if this might help him.

"What?" Merry questioned, staring at the blue water.

"This river is well known, and the water can help heal weary travellers," I stated. "It's named after an elf maiden."

As I dip my hand into the water I feel the cold liquid brush past my skin, and I already feel that slight rejuvenation.

"Could we use it to help Harry?" Sam asked, eyes flitting between the river and Harry's lifeless body.

"Possibly. The song of the maiden, Nimrodel, is said to be heard in the sound of the river;

An elven maid there was of old,

A shining star by day:

Her mantle white was hemmed with gold,

Her shoes of silver-grey.

A star was bound upon her brows,

A light was on her hair

As sun upon the golden boughs

In Lórien the fair.

Her hair was long, her limbs were white,

And fair she was and free;

And in the wind she went as light

As leaf of linden-tree.

That is only a small piece of it," I finished the song, speaking softly.

I picked Harry up and waded into the river until he was submerged. I kept my back to the others, shielding us from them without thinking. My eyes didn't move from Harry's face, watching with a frown when the wound slowed in its healing, no longer steadily stitching back together. 'Maybe it would be best if I take him back out. This is unexpected.'

I was about to walk back when Harry takes a sharp inhale, and his emerald eyes snapped open, gazing directly into my own.

"Harry?" I breathed out, relief flowing through me, seeing him wake up was elating.

"Hello," Harry said, his voice was shaky from disuse. "Did I miss anything?"

I shushed him, not wanting him to strain himself. I helped him, and we turned and walked to the shore where everyone sat waiting.

"Harry!" Frodo sobbed out once we left the water.

I set the wizard down, where the hobbits quickly surrounded him. I smiled as he consoled them, hoping to get time with him later so we could talk. As though he felt my gaze, Harry looked up at me and smiled, the sight causing my heart to soar. I kept myself from reaching for my chest, wondering why my heart is beating so alarmingly fast; it was just a smile after all.

Chapter Text

Legolas POV

Everyone was happy to see that Harry was awake, although he was still injured, that didn't take away from the fact that Harry was alive. I held back from the group, the smile on my face never faltering as I watched him. Harry, while still a little out of it, was more relaxed now. He stayed with the Hobbits, and it was a joy to see him laughing at their antics, particularly something Merry said.

"I need to dress his wound, Pippin would you get something to dry him off with for me, please?"

Aragorn stood up after ruffling Harry's wet hair to the males annoyance. Pippin nodded before returning with a piece of cloth to use. It was actually a piece of torn shirt, it had been getting more and more ragged as the journey went on, each time an injury occurred, the shirt was torn apart some more. I enter the small group, gently tugging the ruined shirt off Harry's torso -this too is likely to become part of our healing kit - frequently apologizing as Harry winces far too often, it seems impossible to tend to him without causing him more pain.

"I was worried, you know. I'm glad you're back with us." I grin at him, wanting to hug Harry but refraining.

The last thing I want is to cause him more pain. I settle for giving his hand a gentle squeeze which Harry returned weakly. I dried him off as best as I could with the dry cloth, then let Aragorn take over. He steeped the wound in a kind of weed called Athelas. The sweet fragrance fills the camp, and I watch intently as Harry's face relaxes under the influence of the healing weed. Aragorn expertly crafted a bandage from their tattered clothing, the Athelas embedded inside and wrapped up Harry's chest. The others reluctantly left after a few more moments, intent on setting up camp and getting food ready to eat.

"I thought you were going to die; I thought you had died. That, along with Gandalf falling - I'm glad you're going to be okay." Aragorn's words were quiet.

The words were only meant for Harry and me to hear, but they were full of relief, though sorrow was hidden in the stern way in which he spoke them. He spent a few more moments finishing the bandage, making sure it was secure, before standing to go help the Hobbits with gathering wood.

I stayed with Harry, happily chatting with him, unable to leave his side. I will never leave his side so long as I can help it. I barely noticed as the sun went down and we ate, Harry occasionally resting beside me as it became harder to keep his eyes open. I made sure the others didn't disturb him, knowing he needed it, but distantly worried he wouldn't wake back up - it's irrational I know - Death said he cannot die. I feel sure he can suffer though. The others were mostly silent, the weight of the past twenty-four hours weighing heavily on our minds. There were occasional tears from the Hobbits interrupting long stretches of quiet.

"Death says hello," I whisper when Harry wakes later that day.

Everyone else had fallen asleep, their eyes puffy from both shed and unshed tears. Harry looked up at me, startled and confused.

"Death isn't real," he attempted to say, the words coming out in a slight stutter.

I raised an eyebrow at him. "He explained a few things with me while you were... unconscious," I replied.

A lump formed in my throat just thinking of him dying in my arms - even if it was only temporary. Harry flinched slightly, frowning as he tried to shift to a different position, trying to face me. Harry's bandages were lightly dotted with blood, something that was limiting his movement.

"The river, it was supposed to help heal you, but it only seemed to slow the process." I nodded towards the scar on his chest, the wizard followed my gaze.

"Uhm, I assume it interfered with whatever magic comes with being the Master of Death, maybe? I don't know. What did you mean by 'he explained a few things'?" he asked. His gaze rose to meet my own, and I settled down beside him. "I didn't think he would-" he paused, looking away.

I gently took his chin between my fingers, encouraging him to face me again. "Harry, I know. It's okay." I say gently, my voice barely above a whisper.

Harry's green eyes meet mine, and they are full of uncertainty. As I smile at him his expression changes, it fills with determination. Determination for what, I'm not entirely sure.

"No, it's not. It's not okay. I lost everyone, and now I can't die - I'll never see my friends again. I'll be alone forever."

My chest twisted at the words, I had not expected this. Though maybe in a way, I did.

"You're not alone anymore, you will have the Elves. Y-you've got me - forever. Elves are immortal too. You're important to me, and I won't let you force yourself into isolation, not after you practically died in my arms. I was devastated. I'm afraid of losing - I only just found you. When Death spoke to me and told me that you're immortal too, that you are The Master of Death, I was elated."

I took a deep breath, Harry's eyes widen in shock. He looks so unsure and seems unable to respond. I smile gently, my fingers still holding his chin gently.

"That's… unexpected," Harry began. "I am alone, though, regardless. My people are gone, they aren't here, and they never will be. The Istari aren't the same - Gandalf was…" Harry trailed off, his eyes staring blankly into the distance.

"Harry, whatever you're thinking, it wasn't your fault. Don't ever think otherwise."

"Right," he replied caustically. "Anyway, Death? I didn't think he would show up, let alone to someone other than myself," Harry shrugged.

I released his chin, and I'm happy that he doesn't turn away.

"He actually asked me to say hello for him. I imagine he'll say it himself at some point," I explained. I watch as Harry hides a yawn, smiling as his nose crinkles slightly in the process. "Go back to sleep, I'll watch over you."

Harry studies me, we make eye contact, and he slowly nods in agreement. He lays down, making sure to stay close to me. As promised, I watch over him for the rest of the night. Occasionally he stirs in his sleep - a nightmare, and I grip his hand hoping to give him some comfort.

"We should leave tomorrow at daybreak, we need to let Harry rest a little longer," Aragorn suggested the next morning.

Everyone agrees it's obvious that they don't want to put any strain on Harry. I was about to agree myself, but I pause when a sudden wind rushes through the camp which carries the whispers of Elves nearby.

"Wait. I think we should leave midday today," I say as I hear the Elvish words on the wind, beckoning us to meet them tomorrow before sundown.

"Why?" Boromir questioned, a frown marring his face.

"There are Elves nearby, they wish to take us to Lothlorien. It is a great nation of Elves. It's about two days travel from here." I turn my attention to the group, Boromir is still frowning.

I had noticed earlier that he showed a lack of care or even sympathy for Harry's injury, though he mourned Gandalf with the rest of us. This made little sense to me; Harry has done nothing to warrant such scorn from anyone. I was glad when everyone showed Harry how much they actually care for him. I knew Harry had thought otherwise. I had no idea why Boromir remained so suspicious. The Hobbits remained unnaturally silent, huddled together.

"But -" Boromir protested,

"Very well, help Gimli, and I clean up, Boromir." Aragorn interrupted him, standing up.

I'm surprised when he didn't try to refuse, knowing that Harry is in no shape to be moved. Aragorn, like myself, knows it's far wiser to move on and seek the Elves of Lorien, the Galadhrim. They are wise people, and maybe they would allow us safe passage, and rest. I cannot help but recall that they are not trusting people, and those unknown to them - particularly Dwarves - are not likely to have a royal welcome. I stand, moving to wake Harry from his light slumber, despite his need of rest. Gently I touch his shoulder, and Harry's eyes blink open and meet mine.

"Sorry, I wish I could have let you sleep a little longer, but we are leaving the camp to meet with some of my kin. Let me help you stand."

I hold my hands out, carefully taking hold of Harry to help him up. I wince at the pained sound he makes at the smallest movement. I quickly wrap my arms around his shoulders, giving him extra support. Harry relaxes against my side, sighing slightly, and I cannot deny that it feels good.

"Thanks. I don't think I will be able to walk on my own yet though, unfortunately."

Though he spoke softly, I noticed the words were more precise than they had been previously. Stronger, even. 'This is a good sign. Maybe he's healing properly now? I can't help but feel terrible for slowing down the process. Him leaning against me is… nice. I could spend the whole day with him in my arms.'

I feel the blush creep up my neck and face almost immediately, and I clear my throat awkwardly, "Aragorn should carry you again, then, it will not be a problem."

Harry blinks at me, confused and maybe slightly disappointed, but nods. I slowly help him across the camp to where everyone is gathered, letting Aragorn help him walk, arm wrapped around the wizards back. I turn, leading the group towards the spot my kin will be waiting for us.

It takes four hours to reach the clearing, no one speaks as everyone is still worn down with sorrow and exhaustion. I tried as best as I could to check on Harry for the third time, but I needn't as he'd fallen asleep two hours ago. It was challenging to smother any hint of jealousy as I watched them together, even as I knew about Lady Arwen. We stop when we reach the clearing, and we are quickly surrounded by a group of Elves clad in grey.

"Follow us. The Lady Galadriel has requested an audience and is willing to offer you rest and safe passage," said a stocky blonde Elf. He gestured for us to follow, and he eyed Harry with a hidden concern.

It took two long nights of marching to reach Lothlorien, only stopping to rest for short periods. During that time, Harry woke every few hours and each time I made sure he ate and drank as much as I could force him, then I replaced his bandages for fresh ones. Aragorn replaced the Athelas in the evenings. Each time I tended his wound and my hands came into contact with his skin; I was as gentle as possible. Harry was in enough pain, without my carelessness causing more.

Harry was grateful, I could tell from his gentle smiles and soft words. Every night I made sure to stick close to him, doing what I could to keep his nightmares at bay. More and more I noticed him leaning into my touch, the smile on my face was hard to suppress. I remember wanting him to open up to someone, maybe even myself, and now I find myself glad that he chose to open up to me even if only a little bit.

The Elves lead us through to the city of Caras Galadhon. Harry, who is finally awake, looks up in awe at the tree-top homes of the Elves. Eventually, we are brought to large stairs which wind up the trees into the dizzying heights of the tree-tops. We walk up the long set of stairs until we reach a large open telain - a platform in the crown of a great Mallorn Tree. The Hobbits, who had been talking amongst themselves, immediately fell silent in her presence, momentarily forgetting the sorrow that clings to their weary hearts. They admired the enormous trees that make up the city, houses built far above our heads, resting amongst the branches. The stairs are long and beautifully crafted; once we reach the upper area it is dark but lit up with bright blue lights, which illuminated everything it touched, even for me, it is breathtaking. We come to a stop in front of the beautiful elf-maiden, her bright golden hair incredibly long, like golden waves cascading down. Her blue eyes hold compassion and a thousand years of wisdom. There is a thin crown of silver resting on her head which tells me that this could only be The Lady Galadriel.

"Nine weary travellers of the Fellowship, I welcome you to Lorien. But where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him," Lady Galadriel asks, her voice soft and musical.

With that single question, the weight of the truth lands again on our delicate hearts, and silence falls upon us like a curse. No one speaks, to talk about what had happened, the fear that by speaking it would make it all too real. It is Aragorn who finally speaks.

"He fell, into the abyss with both shadow and flame. It was a Balrog of Morgoth," he said. "For we went needlessly into the net of Moria."

"Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf, we do not yet know his full purpose," Lady Galadriel spoke, and though her voice was filled with sadness, it still lifted our heavy hearts a little.

"Yes, such a harsh thing to happen. You may stay as long as you wish, to mourn and to rest," It was Lord Celeborn who spoke, the husband of Galadriel, and wisest amongst elves.

"Thank you," I speak softly, bowing my head in acceptance of their offer, glad to have somewhere safe for Harry to stay. "If I may be so bold, could someone take a look at Harry, is there anything you can do for him?" I asked looking in her eyes and seeing hope. I pray that they can reverse the effect of the river, and let him heal more naturally.

"Of course. I will send for my personal healer to come to see him as soon as may be."

Ten minutes later we are settled in, brought to a comfortable area amongst the massive roots of a tree, watching a healer look over Harry as he tends to the angry red wound.

"He will have to rest for a few more days before he can start walking around on his own again, but he will otherwise be just fine." The Elf says, before he bows and leaves without letting us say anything.

I gaze at the sleeping wizard, frowning when he doesn't begin to heal any faster.

'Does the water still affect him even after so many days have passed? I hope it wears off soon, I don't like seeing him like this.'

The mood around us remains a solemn one, as the sun goes down once again and darkness is upon us. In the distance there are the beginnings of a song; a lament to Gandalf, just hearing it breaks my heart just a little more. One by one the others fall into a restless sleep, and Harry does not wake up again. I am about to fall asleep, listening to the elven song, but am woken by Harry who is twisting around in his sleep, face scrunched up in pain. I move closer to him, laying down so that our shoulders are touching and take his hand in my own. It is only a few more moments later when he calms back down, and I drift off to sleep, secure in the knowledge that he is okay.

Chapter Text

Harry POV

I woke up with a small gasp, a cloud of confusion settling around my shoulders like a heavy blanket. At first, I couldn't remember what had happened - I thought I was still safely at Hogwarts, chatting with Ron and Hermione and planning what we would do that summer. Then everything rushed back like a tidal wave, a mass of information flooded my mind within the span of a few seconds, my shoulders slumping in resignation. I took in my surroundings, wondering where we were. It was beautiful with the ancient trees and soft blue lights surrounding us. Elves were wandering about, walking up and down incredible flights of spiraling staircases which wrapped themselves around each tree. I sighed, looking down at the bandage that was wrapped around my chest, and began to remove it bit by bit. A noise to my right made me pause, suddenly aware of the rest of the Fellowship haphazardly placed in the small area and asleep.

"Harry? What are you doing?"

It's Legolas, his voice was tender as he spoke, though I'm only focused on how close he is to me - he's only a hair's breadth away from our thighs touching, his grey eyes holding happiness and concern.

"You shouldn't be removing that, it hasn't healed enough."

He takes my hand in his own, squeezing gently, but not releasing it. I don't pull away, letting my other hand fall to my lap uselessly.

"It is, though I'm not sure what helped Death's efforts to heal my wounds take hold again. These bandages aren't really needed now. Actually, I feel like it never even happened," I say, my voice is barely above a whisper.

I'm afraid of waking someone else up. Legolas nods and lets go of my hand, the loss of warmth oddly saddening. I continue to take the bandages off, slowly revealing unblemished skin, it shows no hint of there ever being a scratch let alone the wound that would have killed anyone else.

"See? Gone," I smile. "As healthy as a horse." I grin at the Elf beside me, who mirrors it with his own as I'm enveloped in a tight hug. I pause, not expecting this reaction, then slowly wrap my arms around him in return.

'This is nice… really really nice.'

"I have wanted to do this since you woke up in the river, but did not want to hurt you," Legolas muttered. His grip tightening momentarily before he lets go and puts distance between us once again.

"It's okay, I don't plan on being injured like that again anytime soon," I chuckled. We are both quiet after that, though the silence isn't uncomfortable.

We spend the next few days resting and mourning, everyone somewhat surprised by my sudden healing, having expected the injury to still be there, or at the very least leave a scar behind. It's during the night of the third day that I overhear a conversation I probably shouldn't have listened to.

"Why is everyone so welcoming of Harry?" Boromir questions, honestly curious.

"Why wouldn't we?" Legolas asks, confused.

"Isn't his timing and abilities at such a young age suspicious? He arrived just in time to come with us on the journey to Mordor," Boromir explains.

"Even if he had, he couldn't have known the Fellowship was going to be formed," Aragorn explains.

"Yeah, plus Mr. Harry has helped us a lot! If he were evil he wouldn't do that," Sam added. All four Hobbits nodding along, in agreement with the statement.

"It's still suspicious, he is likely a spy for Saruman, and just tricking us into a false sense of security," Boromir insists.

"If that was his plan, don't you think he would have finished the job a little sooner than this?" Legolas questions.

"Maybe, but not if he already has a plan for a specific time and place."

"I agree with the Elf, Harry is trustworthy," Gimli interjects. He's glancing at the sleeping wizard - though I can tell that Legolas knows I am awake.

"I don't trust the wizard," Boromir says, frowning.

"Boromir, Harry explained he isn't even from this world. How could he be in league with Saruman? He has had no time to build that kind of bond or trust with Saruman. He would have to rely on Harry a great deal, trust him implicitly to complete a task such as this?" Aragorn replied, his voice calm but stern.

"I - you might have a point," Boromir reluctantly admits, thinking about it. "But I am still uneasy."

I let myself fall into a deep slumber, not wishing to hear any more. I don't see Legolas' tense posture relaxing when he notices my breathing even out as I drift off to sleep.

We spend two more weeks in Lothlorien, Boromir watching me on occasion, calculating. He is noticeably nicer though, which I deem a step in the right direction. On our last day in the city, we are given provisions to last a little while, we are also given canoes to traverse the river - two to each canoe.

We thank The Lady Galadriel for their hospitality as she sees us off, and I get into a canoe with Legolas, each taking a row. We went in companionable silence, occasionally catching gazes and sharing gentle smiles.

'Maybe, just maybe I can hope? Maybe it's okay to hold onto whatever this is I have with Legolas. I don't think I have ever felt this way about another person before. Can I call this love? I don't know. If he weren't an Elf, if he didn't have a similar lifespan to me then I would never let myself feel such a thing. Hope is precious and yet so dangerous, it has the power to do more damage than an Unforgivable. But he does, so I let myself hope since I would not have to watch him age and die…left alone and in pain.'

I continue to let my mind drift along those lines of thought, wondering as well what Legolas was thinking. Did he think about me? Was he wondering what it would be like to hold my hand as we walked along? Does he think about my lips the way I think of his? Or maybe he doesn't really feel the same way? Could I be deluding myself?

I'm snapped out of my train of thought when I feel a large group of dark auras running, and running fast. I can feel them running alongside us, and yet towards us along the shore, I am comforted that I can't see anything. They feel darker than the Orcs. I looked at Legolas, wanting to know if he had felt the same thing. I could tell in his grey eyes, the worry was shining in them, and a silent agreement to not say anything until we reached a resting spot. Things remain disarmingly calm around us as we drift down the river until I'm enveloped by black.

"Hello, Harry." A voice sounded around me, and I turn until I see who spoke.

"Death," I reply. I am sure the man in front of me can't be anyone else.

"Correct, I am almost impressed, if it weren't for you instinctively knowing just by looking." Death grinned, leaning forward on a cane as though to get closer without actually walking forward. "I am glad to see you're healed now. Really, what were they thinking putting you in the water?" he tsked, shaking his head in disappointment. I'm assuming he doesn't actually want an answer to that.

"Why did you speak to Legolas, why did you tell him about this?" I asked, almost fearing the answer.

Death shrugged, idly looking his black nails over - I can't help but wonder if they are painted or not. "Why not speak to the Elf? I know how you feel about him, and I have no other choice but to approve. You could do much worse," he said with a smile. This time the grin was more feral, his laugh grating on my ears. I shift uncomfortably even though he wouldn't hurt me, or couldn't really.

"Okay. So why are you here now?" I'm more curious about this, considering he could have appeared earlier.

"Hmm, well it seems something is going to happen to your precious Elf and soon. I'd give it a few hours at least, or most. I'm not really sure when it comes to the passing of time. I thought it would be considerate of me to warn you. Oh, and even if you tell him it will still happen. Funny how these things work."

Death frowned thoughtfully, a finger tapping at the cane in his hands as he straightens back up. I felt dread pooling in my stomach as he talks, fearing only the worst. Something is going to happen to Legolas? And soon. I can feel myself begin to panic, just to pull myself out of it when a cold hand settles on my shoulder.

"Don't panic, Harry, he won't die. Not for another few thousand years at least," he said, frowning again. It is as though the thought of being unable to reap a soul for that long displeases him, or maybe even worry at seeing me panic, but that's hardly possible.

"Right. Good, yes that is very good."

I breathe a heavy sigh of relief, looking at the man that's now only an arm's length away. Something tells me I should be petrified right now, but I'm not. I can see tiny specks of red in his eyes, but I find that I am not intimidated, in fact, I am unfazed.

"Good," Death snorts. He removes his hand a moment later. "Then you can do me a favor and not panic. Just be ready to do what you must. I need to leave now, but I will return."

He snaps a finger, smirking. Before I can think of a reply, I am already blinking at the rush of sunlight in my eyes.

"Are you okay Harry?" Legolas asks. He's probably concerned that I spaced out for so long, but I smile at him, trying to ease his comfort.

"Yeah, I'm alright, just got paid a visit that's all," I reply. Legolas nods understandingly. "Listen, something is going to happen in the next few hours. Whatever it is, you will be okay, and so will I."

"What are you talking about?" he frowned, gazing at me in worry.

"I wasn't given the full details, just that something is going to happen and I won't be able to prevent it." I shrug. Legolas says nothing, and we settle back into an uneasy, worried silence.

By midday, we reached two colossal statues, and I heard Aragorn explain what they are.

"The Gates of Argonath, also known as The Pillars of Kings, the statues made in the likeness of Isildur and Anarion to honor the former kings of Gondor."

Awe and pride was coloring his tone, and we all looked up at the giant statues as they loomed overhead, getting closer with every stroke of the oars. The detail was tremendous, it wasn't just the perfect carving of the face, you could see the majesty of a King in their features. I looked at them, drinking in everything I could at the moment, having not seen anything so wondrous before - even at Hogwarts.

Continuing on, past the statues, we don't stop until we reach a small clearing. The forest was but a few feet away. Beaching the canoes we step out, grabbing our bags in the process. The feeling of dread grew stronger as we walked farther onto land and I glanced anxiously over at Legolas. I knew something would happen, and the moment was only drawing closer. I am hoping to convey my feelings to Legolas without having to say it, to say that I am worried, that he is important, and that I would do anything to keep him safe. Legolas nods slightly at me, he understands and then moves over to where Aragorn stands.

"We should keep moving, there's something foul on the air headed this way," Legolas said hurriedly, hoping Aragorn would agree to keep going. However, the male frowned at the Elf.

"It's too dangerous to traverse these woods at night. We will remain here for now," Aragorn said. He looks to Legolas, and then to me, as though to tell me as well.

"It's not safe here," Legolas tries again, but Aragorn only shakes his head. He looks around at the little camping area already making preparations to stay.

"Where's Frodo?" Aragorn asks, frowning.

"He's gone to fetch wood," Sam spoke, looking up from the pack of food in front of him.

"And Boromir?" Aragorn questions worriedly.

We both glance over to where he had been stood, and there are his pack and shield, alone without their owner. Everyone had felt Boromir's lust for the ring, and heard him speak of using it at the council. An uneasy feeling rises within me as I held back my groan. I waste no time, heading straight into the woods. Something tells me things are about to end rather badly for one of our fellowship. I can feel a trembling of anticipation, deep inside, instinctively knowing that this could be what I had been warned about, or at least leading towards it. I quickened my pace, feeling the dread grow in the pit of my stomach - I needed to find them and fast. I can hear the others following, likely sensing my sudden urge to move. Thankfully the forest is not that thick, and I quickly rush through the brush and trees, trying to detect where they are.

I do - they are deep in the forest, and I am still the closest. I can't stop myself from cursing aloud when I sense Frodo suddenly disappear. I know that he likely put the Ring on, and I can only hope that someone will find him soon. I pause to catch my breath, knowing it would probably be pointless to keep moving in that direction. The decision proves to be the wrong one, as all of a sudden a small army of Uruk-Hai rush to meet me. I know that most of them are heading straight for the Hobbits.

I take a deep breath and follow the Uruk-Hai, knowing that the Hobbits are vulnerable. As I reach the clearing, I see that the Hobbits have gone, but there was Boromir. He has already felled many of the Uruk-Hai. He moves brutally cutting them down with many a graceful swing of his sword. I don't pause much longer than those few seconds and hurry to join him, pulling my own sword from its sheath. I feel its weight in my hands, and I know I can do this, I can fight side by side with Boromir, I can survive this night. My vision narrows, focusing only on the enemy surrounding us. I cannot pay attention to Boromir who is fighting in the distance, I continue swinging my sword in what I hope are precise arcs, piercing the Uruk-Hai where their armour is weak. I dodge many arrows that are aimed at taking me down, a hole in my chest is not an experience I wish to repeat.

My focus falters momentarily as I feel Legolas getting closer, my attention is diverted enough that I fail to notice an Uruk-Hai arrow soaring towards me. As I finally notice, avoiding the arrow I see that the Uruk has already been slain, Legolas' arrow sticking out of its head. I find him easily in the chaos, smiling at him in thanks, but I have to look away when another arrow flies straight towards me.

There is a sudden influx of Uruk-Hai coming towards us from behind, they are chasing the two Hobbits I had thought had been lost. I frown, recognizing Merry and Pippin, I knew Frodo was headed away from here, but I worry about Sam, the only one that is not accounted for. Merry and Pippin enter the clearing, frightened but daring, fighting how they are able. Boromir quickly rushes over to protect them, but Merry and Pippin are not useless, they manage to knock a few Uruks out with well-aimed rocks. I force myself to refocus on the battle, Legolas is nearby occupied with his own group to fight, his bow is singing as it slays Uruk after Uruk. I'm distantly aware of him putting his agility and flexibility to use, absently wondering how his hair doesn't get in the way constantly.

We are severely outnumbered and are being pushed back by the sheer number of our opposition. My attention shifts when I hear a cry from the Hobbits. I turn swiftly, only to see a thick black arrow protruding from Boromir's chest, but he does not fall. Boromir stands guarding the Hobbits, and I am in awe as he continues to fight, purposefully standing between the Uruks and their prey. I want to rush over to help him, but I'm held in place by the unyielding Uruk-Hai, Legolas only a few feet away to my right.

"Dammit!" I growl.

I quickly summoned my wand, and begin firing curses, but also trying to handle the sword to push them back. Neither Legolas or I could help while they closed in around us. It succeeds - somewhat. Enough for Legolas to smoothly switch from his bow to his own sword, having run out of arrows, but unable to make the switch sooner. There's still too many, and it's like they are focusing the majority of their forces on Legolas and I, but I don't understand why? They would undoubtedly focus on finding Frodo? I desperately hope that this doesn't mean that they have him, or any of the Hobbits. I can feel myself slowly tiring, but I force myself to keep going despite noticing my spells are doing less damage. I absently debate using both wands, but a sharp cry from Legolas stops me in my tracks.

I look over and see the arrow lodged in his stomach, blood starting to spill. I glance over to Boromir, he is somehow standing, defending Merry and Pippin against a whole horde of Uruk-Hais. The leader of the attack stands about a meter away from him, staring him down, his crossbow raised and aimed directly at Boromir. It is clear, despite his continued fighting, that Boromir has lost. The huge Uruk lazily released another arrow which finds its home in Boromir's chest. Boromir chokes, blood spilling from his lips. There are many arrows in his chest now, how he is still standing is a mystery, but I know there is no helping him. Boromir will not survive this battle, but Legolas can, even if I have to threaten Death himself. I cast a reducto, which successfully gives me time to run towards Legolas, the one that I fear I cannot live without, the one that is bleeding out on the ground. I manage to produce the strongest protego possible, and I create enough space to make my way to him, cradling his head in my lap.

'I have healing abilities.' I tell myself, "I haven't tried using them before, and this might not even work, and I'm already tired. But I need Legolas to live. Merlin, I need him.'

I distantly realize there are tears, they fall down my face, I only notice as I see the small patch of drying tears on Legolas' chest, who is barely conscious. I put as much pressure on the wound as I can and pull the arrow from his stomach. Then I focus everything I have on the wound, I desperately pour my magic through my hands into his stomach. I can't move my eyes from his, and Legolas' eyes don't leave my own. Despite the pain he feels which is evident in the far-off look in his eyes, he reaches up to wipe a tear away with a weak smile. I can tell he is weak when his arm falls like a dead weight beside him.

"Nín Laich," Legolas whispers.

I know what the words mean, and a choked sob escapes as I accept that Legolas really does feel the same as me. The words don't leave me, dancing around in my head; 'my sweet'. I can't look at him, I have to force myself to focus on the wound, pushing my magic to its limit, ignoring all the blood gushing over my shaking hands.

'Please, please, please. I cannot lose him - not Legolas.'

I squeezed my eyes shut, and my heart clenches as my focus fades for one second, I can't see if the blood has stopped pouring, I can only feel it's warmth on my hands. I finally summon my courage to look back down, my hands now glowing, pulsating with bright blue magic, the flow of blood slowing until, finally, it stops altogether.

Legolas groans slightly, and I gently shush him. I can feel my magic leaving me as I heal him, the hole slowly knitting together. I am filled with relief as he heals. I don't let up on the shield or the healing. I am all too aware that Legolas has finally given in to the need to pass out. I can't regret my choice, but I can see and feel Boromir falling nearby, his light flickering, as he fights the inevitable, barely holding on.

Merry and Pippin are quickly taken by the Uruk-Hai horde, but I keep myself grounded where I am. It is a waste if I move before the wound is completely healed. I feel a pang of guilt at not rushing to their aid, but I cannot lose Legolas.

The Uruk-Hai are trying to destroy the shield, but their efforts are pointless - for now. Magical exhaustion soon catches up to me, pulling me into the darkness of unconsciousness. The last thing I am aware of are the hands that are too big to be human grabbing at me, my wand slipping from my grip. The last thing I see is Legolas' slumbering face, my wand left balancing on his chest - then everything turns to black.

Chapter Text

Legolas POV

The sound of the Horn of Gondor rings in my ears as I blink against the sunlight. I can hear feet rushing towards us, but otherwise, I am in a daze. Boromir and I are laying in a large clearing. I'm vaguely aware of Aragorn saying something as he reaches Boromir's side. I feel the ground tremble as Gimli rushes to check on me. I roused myself from my state of disorientation, noticing I can feel an odd tingling run across my skin, as though coming from the area I had been injured, then it's spreading across the rest of my body. As I become more aware, the only thing I can see is Harry leaning over me, crying. I'm quickly sitting up gasping, that is when I notice a stick tumbling into my lab. I grab for it, recognizing it as Harry's wand.

"Harry, where's Harry?" I cry anxiously.

I look around, frantically, and my gaze settled on Aragorn kneeling beside Boromir, and I know he is dying. I can't see Harry, Merry or Pippin, and I know that they were taken by the Uruk-Hai. I have to hold back a sob at the realization that he may well be gone for good, after all, who knows what magic Saruman can conjure. Harry saved my life, only to be put in danger himself - if he is even alive. Knowing about Harry's secret, I choose to believe that he is, but my fear is also for Merry and Pippin. Unless it was Saruman's orders to bring them back unharmed - but that does not ease the worry that plagues my heart.

No one answers me, but they don't have to, I already know. I stand up, my legs somehow sturdy, and go over to Aragorn. Gimli silently follows, head bowed in sorrow. There is nothing we can do now. The three of us are silent as Aragorn and I pick Boromir up, Gimli readying a canoe. We watch solemnly as Aragorn fills the small boat with the weapons of Boromir's fallen enemies, his sword is placed in his hands, and then a few words are spoken. I watch Frodo and Sam sailing away in the direction of Emyn Muil. I am torn, do I abandon Harry? I know in my heart that the Ring is more important, and I want to go after them, but Aragorn stops me.

"Let them go. We cannot help Frodo anymore," he says, voice barely a whisper.

Gently arranging Boromir into a dignified pose, Gimli, Aragorn and I gently push the canoe out into the water, we stand and watch as it sails towards the Falls of Rauros. We don't move until the canoe falls over the edge.

"The fellowship has failed then," Gimli whispered as he watched Frodo and Sam disappear.

"No!" Aragorn demands. "We will not abandon Harry, Merry and Pippin."

"We need to go after the Uruk-Hai. We need to save Harry and the Hobbits," I affirm, smiling at Aragorn. In my hand, I still desperately clutch his wand.

"Aye," Gimli agrees, eyes shining. "Let us hunt some Uruk-Hai!" he bellows, almost like a battle cry.

"Take only what you need. We must travel light and fast if we are to save them. Leave anything that can be spared," Aragorn turns around, headed to the half-completed camp we made just before the ambush. I silently pray that Harry will be okay, and the Hobbits. I know he will do anything to protect them.

As soon as we manage to gather our supplies, we follow the Uruk-Hai, Aragorn bent low to the ground, tracking them at full speed. I stay only a few steps behind Aragorn, Gimli a few steps behind me. We run for a few hours, and it is becoming clear that these Uruks are not taking breaks, and are even able to continue through the daylight hours. We track them through the forest and open plains, then we reach a rockier terrain. This is when Aragorn stops us, dropping lower to the ground, his ear pressed to the stone.

"We are gaining on them, they just passed through - a large company of Uruks but there is no sign of the Hobbits, or Harry," he informs us, seriously.

We continue, picking up the pace, hoping to capture them. We only stop when Aragorn notices something trodden into the ground.

"That's-" I begin, relieved and also worried once more. Aragorn turns the leaf-shaped pin in his hand with a frown.

"This belonged to Pippin, they went through here, less than a day ago, maybe," Aragorn slipped the pin into a pocket. "There are also the soft, untouched tracks of a Hobbit here!" he exclaimed. "I believe Pippin risked a great deal to let us know we are on the right track! Have hope, my friends! They are alive!"

We rush towards higher ground. At the thought of seeing Harry and the Hobbits again I have found a new energy quickening our steps. I rush ahead, hoping to see some sign of the Uruk pack we are tracking. Gimli is struggling to keep up, and as I search the horizon, I hear his mutterings.

"I'm wasted on cross-country, I'm more of a natural sprinter - very dangerous over short distances!"

I suppress a grin knowing that he is just making an excuse for his lack of speed.

"Legolas, what do your Elf-eyes see?" Aragorn asks, my frown deepening.

"They are headed northeast...towards Isengard!" I gasp. Dread twists in my insides at the realization that they were alive, but surely they would not stay that way once the Wizard got to them.

"We must continue, we cannot allow them to reach Isengard! We will take the road towards Rohan," he commands, Gimli and I agree.

Running once more, I can only hope that we make it on time. When I hear Gimli muttering to himself; "Keep breathing, that's the key."

My mouth easily slips into an amused smile. I know the Dwarf will manage just fine. It takes some hours to reach Rohan, only to be waylaid by a host of riders who surround us in a tight circle, spears aimed at the three of us, and it is clear there is no escape.

"What business does an Elf, a Man and a Dwarf have in the Riddermark? Speak quickly!" their leader ordered.

Gimli huffed at the words, glaring at the men. "Give me your name, Horsemaster, and I shall give your mine!" Gimli states, hefting his axe threateningly. Aragorn raises a hand slightly towards Gimli, also turning towards the men.

"I would cut off your head Dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground," the leader replied as he dismounted. He towered over Gimli, his spear directed threateningly at his chest.

"You would die before your stroke fell," I find myself spitting out at the man, an arrow already cocked in my bow and aimed directly at the man.

"My name is Aragorn, with me is Legolas of the woodland realm, and Gimli, son of Gloin. We are friends to Rohan, and we are searching for a group of Uruk-Hai that may have passed through here. We do not wish to fight."

"We slaughtered such a horde at sundown yesterday, we left none alive," the leader replied with more bite.

I found that the rest of the conversation was only muffled noise, out of focus, the words 'none alive' echoing in my mind.

"What about Hobbits? There were two Hobbits, and a young man was there also! The Hobbits would only look like children," Aragorn asks, hoping to get a positive response. However, we only receive a small shake of his head.

"I am sorry. We burned the corpses and left them where they lay."

I remain quiet, watching as the conversation continued, but not able to process the words or the reality of what has happened. Reaching into one of my pockets, I reassure myself that the Elder Wand is still there, and I force myself to believe that Harry is okay. My attention is brought back as two horses are handed over, Aragorn thanking the men for them. Quickly mounting them, we urge the horses to run in the direction that the leader had pointed, Eomer is his name.

When Gimli located the burnt up remains of one of the Hobbits' belt, we feared the worst had happened after all. I listened as Aragorn let out an agonized cry, the pain laced words loud in my ears, it sounded how I felt, the fear and pain of losing Harry and the Hobbits. I try to keep my own emotions over the situation in check, I do not want to show just how affected I am, it's now that I realise how much Harry means to me. I held in a wince as Aragorn all but collapses to the ground, head in his hands, but a moment later he lets out a gasp and scrambles off his knees.

"What do you see, Aragorn?" I ask, hopefully.

"Tracks, left by the Hobbits. They are leading away from the camp!" Aragorn replies quickly, following a trail left behind and hope swells back up inside my chest.

"Harry, is he with them?" I ask, trying to rein in my desperation.

Aragorn frowns slightly, shaking his head. "No, there are only two sets of footprints, Merry and Pippin," he says, his eyes not leaving the ground. "The tracks start here, their hands and feet were bound," Aragorn walks forward, Gimli and I quickly follow behind. "Their bonds are cut here," he says next, gently picking up cut ropes before sitting them back onto the ground and looks towards the forest. "They ran into the forest, but their tracks are a little confused, in a close circle like they were looking for something - or someone?"

"Harry? Maybe they got separated, and he is also in the forest?" I reply, clinging to hope. I had to believe that this was the case and that he wasn't in any danger. And I wonder 'Can he be killed? Death never mentioned it as a possibility, but he must, mustn't he?' Worry curls in my stomach as we head into Fangorn Forest.

"This forest is ancient and full of anger and memory," I say, looking around us at the trees as they begin to whisper.

I don't understand what they are saying, but I know that the words are filled with malice. We, however, are determined to find our friends and we continue walking through the densely packed trees. We haven't been walking for very long when Gimli licks a leaf nearby, and I resist the urge to furrow my brow in confusion, and a little disgust, at the action.

"Orc blood," Gimli states with certainty.

I see now what he was doing, and instantly we are all on our guard. Were the Hobbits and Harry taken again? I ignore the unease that is swallowing my insides until Aragorn calls for us.

"These tracks were not made by an ordinary creature," he says, staring at the large, oddly shaped tracks - I wonder if they are even footprints. The trees whispering increases, drawing the attention of both Aragorn and Gimli, who brandishes his axe in preparation for an attack. Aragorn, however, stops him and Gimli lowers his weapon.

"The trees have feelings, my friend," I explain, and the tension within the forest relaxes somewhat.

But I still feel something, a presence, and it makes we wary. I let the feeling wash over me, it is familiar, and yet altogether different. There is a flash of white in the distance, and I know who it is.

"The White Wizard! He approaches, " I gasp, fear tingling across my skin and we draw closer together.

"We should fight!" Gimli suggests, axe still in hand. "Attack before he can put a spell on us."

"We need to be careful, he will not be easily felled," Aragorn replies, looking around the clearing.

I have my bow in hand, an arrow already cocked to the string. I can't help but wonder if Harry has come across the Istari. 'Or the Hobbits? I fear that they might have, and what could have happened to them if they did.' We slowly walk forwards, with me at the head. We are about to begin our attack when the White Wizard speaks. The words, accompanied by a blinding white light, are powerful and our attack is foiled. The light only lasts a few moments longer, then there's a figure standing in front of us, dressed in all white robes, his face obscured.

"You are tracking two young Hobbits and a young Wizard. They passed this way."

"Saruman!" Aragorn accuses.

"I am Saruman, or rather Saruman as he should have been!" he says calmly, a tiny smile gracing his lips. The kind face of our guide now revealed.

"Gandalf!" all three of us exclaim in various mixtures of surprise and happiness.

"Gandalf? Gandalf the Grey, that was what they called me. Yes, I suppose that was my name," he says before continuing. "I am Gandalf the White. Young Harry was the first to find me here, the Hobbits not long after him. They are perfectly safe."

"So they are okay? Are they still together?" I ask quickly, Aragorn and Gimli listening in interest.

"Yes, and no," Gandalf replies, stepping closer to us, a white staff in his hands replacing the old one he had before.

"What do you mean?" Aragorn questions.

"Yes, they are safe, and no they are not together. I sent Harry ahead of us to meet at a later date, and the Hobbits remain with Treebeard, one of the Ents of this forest," he explains.

"Why leave the Hobbits with an Ent?" Gimli questions.

"That is the path they are meant to travel, Merry and Pippin coming here will be like the falling of the few stones that starts an avalanche. They will help the Ents to wake up, and find that they are strong," Gandalf responded. "We are to go to Edoras and speak with their King."

Aragorn frowns at this. "Their King, Theoden, no longer recognises friend from foe, he has even cast out his own kin, Eomer of the Riddermark."

"We must warn the King of the coming war, and deal with what we find there," Gandalf turns, and we quickly exit the forest, where Gandalf calls for his mount - Shadowfax.

Pippin POV

Harry is still unconscious, it's been many hours since we were abducted by the Uruk-Hai. We were carried on their backs, the creatures smell foul; like something dead and rotting. I scrunch my nose in distaste, looking over to Merry who also has a pinched expression. Though it's hard to say if it's because of the smell or because of the position we are stuck in, not to mention the constant movement as they run onwards without any pause. I glance back over at the Wizard, thinking about what I can do.

"Harry, psst! Wake up!" I try to whisper urgently, but to no avail and I sigh heavily.

Giving up momentarily, I take in our surroundings. There wasn't much to see, we are travelling through a low valley surrounded by great cliffs of stone, there is no chance of an easy escape, especially as Harry is unable to wake up. The Uruk-Hai suddenly come to an abrupt halt, the leader sniffing the air like a hound.

"The Ranger has caught our trail," The Uruk-Hai growls.

He motions for the group to quicken their pace. Hope swells up in my chest, and I look at Merry who's grinning.

'Maybe they will find us in time then! I need to give them hope that we are alive and that they are going in the right direction! Think Pippin!'

I glance around frantically, thinking of what can be used, when I remember the pin on my cloak. I wonder if itcouldwork. 'I would just need to get it off my cloak without alerting all the Uruk-Hai around me. Yeah, that's going to be easy.' Ishift slightly to tuck my chin against my neck, and I try to grip the pin in my mouth. It takes a few tries until it stops slipping, and I clench my teeth around it to rip it from the cloak.

I nearly grunt with satisfaction when it finally slips free, and I hold it for a moment to make sure no one is paying attention. Hoping this will work, I let the pin slip from my mouth, happy when there's a very faint thunk as it reaches the ground, the sound drowned out by the marching of Uruk-Hai. I silently pray that Aragorn will find it, and understand the message that I am trying to send, 'we're safe, help us'.

At sundown, the Uruk-Hai army finally stops to rest. We are at the edges of a great forest, and from what I overhear, it's called Fangorn Forest. They leave us on the ground, our hands and feet still bound together to prevent escape. I scoot closer to Merry, keeping my eyes on Harry who was tossed a few feet away from us, I do not want to lose sight of him.

"Hey, Pippin, why do you think Harry is still unconscious?" I look over at Merry, who is bent at a rather uncomfortable angle, hair matted and face covered in dirt. I imagine I look just as beaten and bruised as he does. The Uruks have not harmed us really, but they have certainly not been gentle.

"I don't know, maybe he's just really tired after saving Legolas' life in the forest?" I shrug, wondering if Harry really is just sleeping. If he is, I'm not sure how he could sleep in this situation.

"What if he's hurt?" Merry questions.

"Wouldn't we be able to see it if he was bleeding?" I suggest.

"Well, maybe, but what if it's an injury we can't see, what if it's something magical?" the noise from the Uruk-Hai increases and I look at Merry nervously. "I think we shouldn't have left the Shire, Pippin," Merry continues, his smile shaky.

"Don't say that! We're going to be fine. Perfectly fine, just you wait!" I encourage him, faltering slightly when there are sudden whispers coming from the forest beside us. Merry looks at the trees, eyes darting around them. "Did you hear that?" I ask

"It's the trees, Pip. They're talking. You remember the old stories about the forest on the border of Buckland? Trees that were so alive that they could talk, even move!" Merry whispers, watching the swaying of the branches.

"The trees are talking?" I question, confused. "Trees can't talk Merry."

We are so distracted by the forest that we don't notice as Harry suddenly stirs, a weak groan slipping from his throat.

"Pippin, I think he's waking up!" the excitement doesn't last long though when one of the Uruk-Hai lumbers over to us.

"We ain't had nothing but maggoty bread for three stinking days!" an Uruk complains. "Why can't we have some meat? What about them, they're fresh!" the Uruk drools, looking hungrily at us. I squirm uncomfortably.

"They are not for eating! It is forbidden," another one growls, starting an argument.

Taking advantage of the distraction, I refocus on Harry. He hasn't woken completely yet. One of the Uruks sneaks up behind Merry, and I'm about to shout, but then there's a sword sticking from its chest. I breathe a sigh of relief, just as a horse nearly steps on my shoulder. Twisting out of the way, a group of men enter the clearing, attacking the group of Uruk-Hai. In my struggle to not be stepped on, I find a piece of metal sharp enough to cut through the ropes. I don't focus on where Harry and Merry are at the moment, but I know I can only help them once I am free.

Grabbing it, I twist it to cut the binding on my hands, tossing it over to Merry, who is now a few feet away. In the chaos of battle, I lose sight of Harry. When I turn around to untie the ropes on him, he's gone. It's very possible he didn't see me or Merry in the mess of bodies, laying on the ground. It's also possible he was taken, again. I look around, searching for Merry in hopes that he would be there still. He is, and I am relieved to see him relatively unharmed.

"Merry!" I call out, rushing over to him. "Harry's gone, did you see him?"

"No, you didn't either?" Merry frowns, looking around. "We need to take cover, there's no way we could find him in this," Merry gasps as he dodges another horse, and the hectic battle between the men and Uruks commences. "He could have taken cover in the forest after not being able to find us."

I nod, hoping that Merry is right. We curl up behind a large stone, waiting. It's barely an hour later that things around us are finally silent and we slowly come out from our spot. Not knowing where else to go, we head towards the forest with the hope of finding Harry, clinging to the belief that he had gone in the same direction.

Chapter Text

Harry POV

I woke up to the sounds of battle and persistent whispering in my ear. The whispering was coming from the forest behind me, tugging me towards it, urging to follow to come closer. I hesitated though, Merry and Pippin had been with me just moments ago, hadn't they? I don't know anymore, maybe we were split up while I was unconscious, while my magic replenished itself? I had drained myself doing everything that I could heal Legolas. I knew it would completely take me out of action, but honestly, it had been worth it to save him. Looking around, I tried to spot the Hobbits in the chaos of battle, but there was no sign of them. The Uruk-Hai that had taken us were being slaughtered by fierce men on horseback. I knew I had a choice to make, join them and see if they know anything, and risk them being yet another enemy or I can follow the voices from the forest.

The whispering only got louder, as though the person speaking was right next to me even though the words are completely indecipherable - gibberish. It made the choice for me, I double check that I hadn't somehow missed either Merry or Pippin in the skirmish, and I turn to the woods.

'Maybe they went into the woods? They could be looking for me as well. If we truly hadn't been separated.'

I silently creep towards the trees, noticing the whispering calms down the closer I get. I don't stop until the sounds of battle have long since gone, focusing on the surrounding trees. Placing my hand on the nearest one, I jerk back as a sudden jolt of something like electricity thumps through my fingertips, heading straight for my core and settling there with an odd sense of warmth. It seemed to have come from the tree, from exactly where I had touched the rough bark, settling into my core. The whispers come nearly to an abrupt halt, and then one voice rose back up, this time startlingly clear; "Welcome to Fangorn Forest, child born of Magic and Death."

"Did the tree just speak to me? You're imagining things Harry – trees can't – don't talk, whisper or even murmur!" I mutter irritably to myself, slumping down to sit on the ground.

It would be a good idea to see exactly what had just happened to my core. Slipping into myself, down to my center where my magic rests, I am surprised to see a completely stabilized core thrumming happily. It's large, with at least a dozen colors swirling about, the main chords of my core are thicker and more pronounced, black, sky blue, and bright orange. I don't understand what they mean, but I assume the black is from being The Master of Death? The main question is how my core was stabilized in the first place. It was especially unstable when the Uruk-Hai had captured me. I have a theory that the trees somehow fixed my core.

'How could the trees fix my core? They're trees, so I guess that the wild magic in them could have helped, but completely replenishing my exhausted core? That seems just as preposterous as the idea that the trees were talking.'

I scrunch up my nose in frustration, standing up from the cold ground a moment later. Regardless of how it happened, my magic will be more reliable now – I can deal with the 'how' and 'why' later. Right now, I have a fellowship to find.

It's not long before I end up completely lost, that's if I wasn't lost from the moment I walked into this labyrinth-like forest. I stumble upon a docile snake curled up at the base of a tree, and it's head slowly lifts in my direction.

*Are you Harry, the one who can speak?* it - she? - Asked. I'm not too surprised at the question, the snake I had met when I first arrived in this world has likely spread the word quite far by now.

*Yes. I apologize for disturbing your rest,* her pale brown body shifts, then she begins slithering towards me.

*It is alright. You seem lost.*

*Er - yeah, is it that obvious?* I smile faintly, as she tastes the air around me, her delicate tongue flicking the air.

*No,* she hisses softly, gently even. *I can just sense it. Follow me, there's a river nearby and berries you can eat.*

*Thank you,*

I follow her, listening as she tells me about the various plants in the area, those I would be able to eat, those that were poisonous. I recognize a few of those that she mentions, mainly from my time on the run with Hermione and Ron. I force the melancholy thoughts away, my friend's laughter faintly ringing in my ears is bittersweet, knowing I will never hear it again. The sound is replaced by rushing water just as we come upon a clearing that opens up to a river. The body of water is just what I had expected, and yet more at the same time. It's surrounded by the ancient trees, and a small clearing along the bank devoid of anything but grass, the river shines clear and bright so that I can see the bottom and the fish darting around in the slow moving water.

*You can clean up here, no one will disturb us,* she stated, coiling up a nearby tree. I nodded, quickly stripping and sinking into the cool, fresh water, cleaning away the weariness in my bones. I didn't spend too much time in the water, getting out barely fifteen minutes later, drying myself and my clothes with a flick of my wand.

*Do the trees here really whisper, or am I finally going insane?* I ask her, sitting at the base of a tree. She gives the snake equivalent of a laugh.

*Yes, the trees whisper. They talk to each other, for they are the Ents of this forest.*

*Ents?* I wonder, the word is not familiar to me.

*They are an old race; they appeared in Middle Earth at the same time as the Elves. Stories say that Eru Iluvatar created the Ents when Yavanna learned of the Dwarves, Aulë's children. Yavanna foresaw that the Men would fell trees and wished to have creatures to act as Shepherds of the Forests, she wished them to be protected,* she explains, and I listen with fascination.

'Eru created the Ents? I wonder what else the Valar created. Maybe she knows if Merry and Pippin are wandering the forest right now.'

*Thank you for telling me, but I have another question.*

*Of course.*

*Do you know if there's anyone else in this forest? I was travelling with two Hobbits, but we were separated,* I ask, hopeful. However, she shakes her head in a silent 'no'.

*I do not. Though I can go and ask my kin if they have seen any such people wandering – your kind makes much noise when trampling through our forest,* she dropped off the branch she had curled up on, landing by my feet.

*If you could that would be great. I will wait here for your return,* I smiled, watching as she slithered away.

'I am unsure how long she will take, maybe it would be a good idea to try and get some rest.'

It doesn't take long before I drift off to sleep, my dreams are not pleasant though. While they are not memories of the past – memories of the Battle of Hogwarts – they are still nightmares. I can only flinch away as images of my friends' bloodied faces scream at me, standing at Voldemort's side. Clearly, my subconscious has taken my experiences to create new torturous dreams, to steal my peace. I'm not sure how long I slept, but I am roused when a noise nearby woke me. Swiftly sitting up, I look around, finding the snake mere inches away from my face.

*I apologize for startling you.* She loosely curls her body up, and I let myself relax.

*It's okay, I was simply caught by surprise. Did you find anything?* I ask, hope warring with the worry deep in my stomach.

*Do not worry, I have learned a few things. The Hobbits you speak of are safe, with an Ent called Treebeard. He is the master of this forest and will keep them safe. Also, there is an Istari nearby that is waiting for a group of travelers to find him.* I can feel the worry ease up, while confusion takes its place - why would an Istari be waiting for a group of travelers? I know of only one Istari, but he's…

*Could you take me to the Istari?* I asked, stopping my thought process, focusing only on what needs to be done.

*Of course. He's this way.*

When we reach the spot where the Istari is, I look around, and I am even more confused.

*I don't see anyone, are you sure -* I get cut off by a blinding light suddenly appearing in front of us, and I swiftly retrieve Draco's wand from the holster. I wait, spells on the tip of my tongue and ready to be used, until the light finally fades away and the Istari is revealed, and I do not know if I am able to believe my eyes.

"But, you're dead, you fell!" I whispered, shocked.

"Ah, yes, I did fall. But through dangers untold, I have returned to you, and together we shall watch the turn of the tide in this war," Gandalf smiles as he talks, "I was not expecting to see you though, Harry. I am glad to see that you are well, what has happened since Moria?"

I pause momentarily, still struck by the sudden appearance of someone who had passed on, and suddenly I wonder about the Wizard, did he have some secret like mine? It isn't long before words begin to spill out unbidden. "After you fell, we ran and escaped Moria. We kept going for a while, though I was unconscious for most of it. Eventually, we ended up in Lothlorien where Lady Galadriel offered us safety so that we may rest and mourn – your passing. When we left, we went by canoe, past the Kings of Old – Argonath I think they called it – and began to set up camp in a clearing by the water.

"That's where things went downhill. A group of Uruk-Hai ambushed us, and we did our best to fight back, but it was not enough. We lost Boromir to them, Frodo and Sam went by their own path towards Mordor. Merry, Pippin and myself were taken by the Uruks while Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli were left and I can only assume they are searching for us. While with the Uruk-Hai, who took up a camp on the skirts of this forest, a group of men attacked, men riding on horseback? I could not see Merry or Pippin so came into the forest. I didn't know if they were friendly, and I thought it best to hide."

"I see, that is quite a tale, and most unfortunate. I must request something of you, Harry." Gandalf frowns a crease between his brows and sadness in his eyes.

"Of course, anything."

"Go to Helms Deep, and wait for us there. It's west of here, just keep going straight, and you will find it," he explains.

"Helms Deep? Wait for who, exactly?" I'm confused, not sure what, and still even where, Helms Deep is.

"Yes, I cannot go with you for I shall need to speak with Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli then travel with them by another road. Your path is different, one that must be taken alone. Helms Deep is where the next great battle will take place. Be careful and don't let your guard down."

Before I could say anything else, Gandalf vanishes once more in a brief flash of white light, leaving me alone with the snake who has hidden in a tree. I am reminded somewhat of Dumbledore at that moment, strange hints, but nothing concrete to go on. She gracefully removes herself, stopping beside me.

*What has happened? You look troubled.* She flicks her tail slightly, questioningly.

*Apparently, I am to go to Helms Deep,* I let out a small sigh, running a hand through my hair. *You wouldn't happen to know how to get there would you? Or at least out of the forest. Gandalf was not very specific.*

*I do. It will take a little while to reach the other end of the forest, though. This way.* She begins moving, and I silently follow, wondering what the future holds for the fellowship, what will happen in this next battle at Helms Deep. If Frodo and Sam have made any progress, and if they are okay.

However, most of my thoughts are with Legolas. While I know that I healed him completely, I fear for him. Though he wasn't likely to feel much of an effect, as it is safe to heal those without magic, I still worry. A pang of longing grips my chest, and I'm left hoping to be reunited with the Elf once more.

'If I were to claim him as my mate, would Death protect him? Or maybe Death will protect him anyway, so long as Legolas holds my magic in his body. Does Legolas miss me as well? Is he searching for me as well as the Hobbits?' Images of Legolas flash by; his smile, his laugh, his grace, the sun beating down on him, and I recall perfectly how the light only made him even more desirable.

'Soon, Legolas. I will be there soon.'

Chapter Text

Legolas POV

I feel a surge of anxiousness, and want to hurry with our business in Edoras. I want to be able to meet up with Harry sooner. However, I know that this cannot be done, and am left staring at the guard blocking our path to King Theoden. I slip a hand into my tattered clothes to slide my dagger out, and then I handed it over. Hama takes it carefully with a grateful smile as I reluctantly hand over my bow and quiver also, with a barely there frown present throughout the exchange. While I am certain in my own abilities without them, it is still strange to hand them over. 

“Keep them unharmed, for they are gifts to me from the Lady of Lothlorien.” 

There's a smile threatening to escape as Gimli glared up at the Doorwarden, his axe held firmly as though ready to attack. Gandalf looks unfazed by the request, though Aragorn also wears a deep frown which looked almost as if it was etched into his mouth. 

“It is not my will to allow Anduril into the hands of others,” Aragorn states, his hand hovering over the hilt of his sword.

“It is the will of Theoden,” Hama replies smoothly, patiently waiting for the rest of the groups weaponry.

“I am the heir of Gondor, and friend of the Theoden King.” 

I make sure to keep my face blank, the amusement that wants to show is hard to restrain when listening to Aragorn’s words. There’s puzzlement in the Doorwarden’s gaze now, as though trying to figure out how to get Aragorn to relinquish the weapon. The expression is gone a few moments later as the male points his own weapon towards us, barring our path even more.

“This is the house of Theoden, not Aragorn.” He seems to want to say more, but Gandalf speaks before Aragorn.

“It is useless to refuse Theoden’s demand, for he shall have his way in his own hall. Whether that will is folly or wisdom,” Gandalf stated, though Aragorn still hesitates in complying. 

“I would comply if this were only a woodman’s cot, and I had any other but Anduril.” 

I almost felt like sighing, for this is just prolonging what we came here to accomplish. By taking longer to finish this, we prolong the time it will take before Harry is back with us. The weight of his wand is heavy in my pocket, hidden to everyone but myself. If I focus on it enough, then it will feel as though it gets warmer through the fabric. Truly, despite Gandalf saying the young wizard is okay and headed for Helms Deep, a knot of worry continues to grow deep inside me. Anything could happen by then, or could have already happened. My chest throbs at the thought, and I quickly focus back on the conversation around me. 

“If you do not lay your sword here, then you will fight alone against all of Edoras.” Hama states, gesturing where my weapons lay against the wall. 

“No, not alone!” Gimli growls out, glaring heatedly at the guard.

“We are all friends here, or our only reward shall be the laughter of Mordor!” Gandalf cuts in, “Here is my sword, goodman, Hama. It is named Glamdring for it was forged by Elves long ago. Keep it safe.” Gandalf hands the sword over. 

Hama takes it gently, and places it with my own. Gandalf looks expectantly at Aragorn. 

“Come now, Aragorn,” he urges the stubborn man.

“Very well,” Aragorn slowly releases his sword, but still keeps Hama from taking it, opting to put it next to Glamdring himself. “Do not let anyone touch this sword, or draw it from it’s sheath. For if anyone other than Elendil’s heir were to do so, death would find them – swiftly.” 

I absently wonder if Aragorn is enjoying himself, a little, or maybe a little too much. I  notice a small smirk in his eyes as the Doorwarden pales and steps back from the weapon. Hama’s eyes are filled with awe only moments later, and I have to swallow an undignified snort at the change in reaction. 

“It seems that you have come on the wings of a song, out of the forgotten days. It shall be as you command, My Lord.” He turns to Gimli next, who is still glaring, but shrugs.

“Well, since it will have Anduril as company, then my axe may stay without shame.” Gimli lays his axe on the floor next to Aragorn’s sword, and we all look at Hama expectantly. The Doorwarden hesitates though, glancing at Gandalf’s staff. 

“The staff Gandalf Greyheiml, it too must be left behind.” 

“Such discourtesy! I am old, and if I may not lean on my stick then I will wait here until Theoden decides to hobble out himself.”

I smiled faintly, Aragorn’s laughter ringing out around us as he speaks, “Every man has something which is too dear to impart to another. Would you part an old man from his support?”

“My Lord, a staff in the hands of a wizard can be more than simply a stick to lean on. Yet I believe you to be friends and not here with an evil purpose. You may pass.” Hama left the entryway, allowing us to pass through, his weary gaze, however, did not leave Gandalf’s staff. 

We all stepped inside, the guards watched from the edges of the room, as we neared they eyed us warily. The air was heavier than it had been on the other side of the large doors. I gazed around the large hall, noting the dancing shadows cast by dim lights and bright sunbeams streaming through the eastern windows. As my eyes adjusted, the floor beneath our feet became clearer, showing runes and diverse colors. The large pillars were beautifully carved, shining with similar colors along with rich golden leaf. Aragorn’s gaze had fallen to the artfully wrought tapestries hanging upon the wall, glued to a young man on a white horse whom blew a great horn; clearly charging into battle. 

“Behold, Erol the Young!” he said, a smile twitching at the corner of my mouth. “Thus he rode out of the North to the Battle of the Field of Celebrant.” 

None acknowledged Aragorn’s words as we continued forward, beyond a burning hearth. We stopped at the far end of the hall, and there stood a dias with three steps which faced the north, towards the doors. I studied the man sitting upon a grand throne upon the dias; he was bent with age and had a pale, sickly parlour to his skin. His white hair was worn in braids beneath a thin golden circlet upon his brow and a white stone on his forehead. It was not how I had imagined King Theoden to look. The only reasonable explanation was the magic of Saruman. 

Despite the tense atmosphere, I could feel my thoughts straying to a different path even as I remain aware of our surroundings. I tried to keep the other path at bay, hearing Gandalf and Wormtongue arguing, the guards becoming more defensive. Finally, the urge becomes to great and let my mind stray as those around me continued to talk and argue. The last thing I am aware of is the feel of Gandalf’s magic swirling around us.

I can still clearly remember being told about the new visitor to Rivendell, however, I believed I was unlikely to even cross the guests path. I went to visit the garden and that was where I first saw him. He was sitting against the old Cypress tree, and I recall how his body tensed as soon as I was just a few feet away. Harry had piqued my interest that day; I hadn’t made a sound walking into the garden, and yet he still noticed my presence even before I was there. I had thought that would be the only time we would meet, and I tried to shrug the interest away – I knew that it was likely there would be a group formed to destroy the ring and I felt that I’d be a part of it. So there was no point in lingering on the thoughts of a man I would never see again. Then his eyes met mine and my breath was almost taken away by the bright emerald green orbs. They were filled with warring emotions, I knew that he knew war, grief and loss, but happiness had been a part of his life too. 

When Lindir had said that Lord Elrond wished Harry to join us, I felt relief that our meeting would not be cut short, but  there was a curiosity about the strange guest too; a desire to know him more. Harry actually joining the Fellowship had been the last thing I had expected, as was the show of an odd sort of magic he had used to calm Frodo, and then again to get everyone’s attention. His magic was nothing like I had seen before, and it filled me with a wonder I had not felt in the many long years of my life. The emerald eyed wizard had already left a deep impression inside me. I let those first days travelling together wash over me; the first night when Harry didn’t eat or sleep, the second night when he woke in a panicked sweat not relaxing until he thought everyone was still asleep. 

By the end of the first week together, he had barely said anything unless prompted to, ate sporadically, and only sleeping very little. That odd interaction with the snake – which I still haven’t gotten answers to – made me more curious still. Then when I found out Harry slept better with some form of protection, the first time being my hand on his shoulder; a reminder that he was safe — as safe as any of us could be. 

In Moria, though, I felt my affection steadily grow. His skill with magic was hard to get past, the determination like fire in his gaze, the tremble in his body every so often making me wonder what happened to him in the past. I was awed that it didn’t completely break him. I have lost count how many times we have saved each other's lives or comforted one another.

When he had ‘died’ I wasn’t sure what to do. The relief at knowing Harry would be okay was overwhelming and made me impatient for when he would open his eyes and heal completely. To be able to talk to him again, to be able to hear the truth from him and not from Death. Finding out that Harry is going to live a similar life span as me solidified everything that I had been trying to ignore, to hide from myself, Harry and the others. I wasn’t afraid of having to watch him grow old and die; we could grow together for thousands of years, I could be with the wizard I had fallen in love with. The last question, a question that plagued my mind, did he feel the same? 

Harry POV

Wiping sweat away with the back of my palm, I absently cast a cooling charm again. It’s only been two days since the snake guided me out of the forest. I have had to rely on magic to be an extra set of ‘eyes’ and ‘ears’ during the day as well as night. Any extra protection I can get along with shield, disillusionment, and detection charms are used at their full capacity, especially as I rest when I am most vulnerable to attack. Between restlessness, nightmares and wishing to meet up with the others again, there hasn’t been very much resting at all. I feel my body shiver faintly at the memory of my most recent nightmare - though thankfully it was not a real memory.  

I quickly brush it away, replacing the images with thoughts of Legolas, memories of the last time I had seen him. 

‘Does he still have my wand? I doubt not keeping it safe would even cross the Elf’s mind. Hopefully he has healed, though I needn’t worry since the wounds had fully closed by the time my Protego had fallen. I’m just glad I woke up when I did, and the Uruk-Hai were being attacked by a different group of men. It was enough of a distraction for me to safely escape.’ 

I feel my magic snap around me, mingling with the natural magic that’s rising to meet it, making it almost difficult to tell them apart. More anxious to reach Helms Deep and reunite with Legolas and the others, I begin running, hoping to close the distance faster. 

After a few hours it becomes apparent that the extra distance traversed in that time was near pointless. A large group of Orcs reach the edge of my senses, the natural magic alerting me; the Orcs are moving quickly, too many to go up against my own.  I don’t have much choice.

‘If I could just Apparate to Helms Deep, that would be very convenient.’ 

The group comes closer, and I stop running. There’s likely a little less than half an army’s worth. I wouldn’t be able to outrun them, the invisibility cloak is an option, but they would likely sniff me out – I had learnt all I could about the enemies of this land, both in Rivendell and from Legolas. I frown, knowing there’s no time. Their stench fills my nose, and my eyes snapped open. I am not sure when I even closed them. I watch the Orcs form a small ring around me, sniffing the air and grumbling about fresh meat. One thing I learnt is that they are carnivorous. 

I scrunch up my nose, slipping my wand into my palm. I can feel it as many of them twitch with excitement, inching forwards. 

‘Sorry Legolas, I am going to be a little later than planned. Please be safe,’ I think to myself as I pull out my sword. The Orcs converge on me like one giant wave.

Chapter Text

Harry's POV

The only thing that I can see is each Orc's blow, I barely manage to blink as they manage to slice at my skin, but moments later they fall at my own blade. It's been at least two hours since the battle began. Beads of sweat are rolling down my forehead into my eyes, my body aches all over and is completely soaked through. I can tell that it's almost over, and I am grateful for my magic, without it, I would surely have collapsed from exhaustion. I cannot help but think that it will happen as soon as this fight ends. I continue to duck and weave, I feel as though I am dancing around blows and strikes that they send my way. The blood of Orcs is now covering me, mingled with my own blood and sweat.

It's another half hour before the final Orcs fall at my feet. I wipe my blade before sliding it back into the sheath, leaning over with my hands on my knees; my breathing is labored. Quickly I maneuver through the mess of bodies. I walk away from the battle-ground before collapsing on the floor. The fall reopens many of my half-healed cuts. I know that I'm behind schedule, but in my current state I will not be able to continue, and I think it's better that I am of some use, and for that, I must rest and heal as much as possible. I know that Legolas is waiting and that Gandalf will be there to help as well. I let my eyes close. My lids are so heavy as I slip into a deep slumber.

The sound of Ents wakes me. I do not recognise the sound at first, but it is clearly the sound of something in deep and terrible anguish. I immediately got up, realising it is the Ents, I want to go and help them, but I also know that Helms Deep is in greater need, and Legolas is there too — plus the Ents have Merry and Pippin. I know the little Hobbits will help the Ents with their resourcefulness and quick thinking. Something about the differences between the Ents and the Hobbits ensures my heart that they will find success. The Ents, with Merry and Pippin, would be far stronger. I initially check myself over, finding nothing that needs my attention. I quickly resume running towards my destination.

I'm not too far away from the battle by the time night has fallen, the air is heavy with the tension of war. Finally, I see the marching army of enemy Saruman. I know I won't get there before it begins, but this does not make me falter.

'I have to hurry…'

3rd Person POV

The people of Helms Deep are anxious, and the remnants of the fellowship could feel the tension in those around them. Everyone readies for the coming battle - young men, husbands, even young boys who were able to bear arms were forced to fight are taken away to be armed. The women mourn for their families, hoping against all the odds that the men come back to them safely. Others are in despair, crying for those that will inevitably pass away, their hope is already lost. The fellowship could see it in their eyes and their hearts as they say goodbye. Those of the fellowship that are there: Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli run around to help others prepare.

Legolas is avoiding Aragorn, the tension had not just gotten to the people of Edoras, but also to the Elf Prince. He had deemed the battle hopeless and was sure that it was a death sentence for all. Legolas' worry was at its peak for his friends, and his fear and anxiety for Harry only increased the tension, causing him to lash out. More than anything he was still missing Harry who was now over two hours late. The Elf wishes he could somehow ask Death about the wizards' wellbeing, but knows he needs to focus more on the task at hand. In the back of his mind, the fear lingers, even if Harry is a master of death, it doesn't mean he can't feel pain, be held captive, or any other number of terrible fates.

However, Legolas isn't sure if he will ever see Harry again – if he will make it out of this battle alive. He could fight for it with everything he had, and he would like to see those bright green eyes once more.

The army is just about to the gates when Legolas approaches Aragorn for the first time since their argument.

"Aragorn. I wish to apologize for what I said. It's just…" he pauses, and hesitates.

"It's okay, the apology is accepted. I understand Legolas; we are all worried. We must focus on this battle first, but there is hope; Gandalf will come to assist us. Will you fight beside me?" Aragorn asked, eyes filled with determination.

Legolas nods. "Aye, until my last dying breath."

The moon has risen above their heads, and with it comes a storm. The thunder crashes above the soldiers' heads, lightning allowing them to clearly see the enemy approach before they stop only a short distance away, waiting. When the sky opens up in a downpour, the first arrow is released, hitting and Orc right in the forehead. As soon as the Orc hits the ground, the enemy roars out a crazed battle cry, charging forward with full force. The soldiers immediately responding with volleys of arrows. Dozens of Orcs fall, but it doesn't slow them down. After a few minutes, they are at the walls and gate of Helms Deep, making their way up. Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli fight back even as they have to begin retreating. Legolas' stomach is tense, worry creasing his brow as sweat runs down his temple.

The three of them hope with all they have that they will get through this, that Gandalf will show up. That Harry is okay, and that the Hobbits are all safe.

It's early dawn when Harry stops at the crown of a hill overlooking the battle raging below. Dread pools in his stomach as he takes it all in; the carnage brings images of the Battle of Hogwarts back to him, and he tries to shake it off. The screams and cries of agony surround him, for a moment, he is unable to move past his memories. When he finally spots Aragorn fighting against a small group of Orcs, the memories torment on him is broken, and he makes his way forward. Turning back to the battle, Harry feels an eerie calm settled over him, Death tingling at the tips of his fingers. Instinctually he knows that it's not exactly normal to actually feel the touch of Death as Harry is now, as though the entity is standing beside him – heck Harry could practically imagine Death leering down at the army with excited anticipation seeping out of every pore.

Shaking the moment off, Harry dashes down the hill with his focus wholly on the enemy lines ahead as he tugs out both sword and wand. Distantly, Harry is aware that there are now too many headed towards him to not be overwhelmed by. Of course, he should have foreseen this, but with Death breathing down his neck and the desperate need to get to Legolas, Harry didn't think before rushing in. Panic settles in the place where Death had been mere seconds ago, and Harry capitalises on the chaos and quickly fires off curses at the converging enemy, sword slicing into others, his moves to fast to compete with even an Avada Kedavra.

'Shit, shit, shit.' Harry curses at himself, barely dodging a swipe at his chest, only to be nicked by a different blade on his cheek, narrowly missing his eye.

'Think, Harry.' There hadn't been nearly this many Orcs earlier on his way to Helms Deep. One group falls to make space for the next group, with Harry ducking and swinging and shouting; blood already coats him from both the enemy and himself. It's only when he looks up and sees Legolas at the top of the fortress battling Orcs does it occur to him.

'You're a Wizard for Merlin's sake! You can see Legolas well enough from here, you know where to go – bloody apparate there!' Harry give one final swipe of his sword before turning in place and popping away, leaving behind a mess of confusion among the soldiers he had left behind.

Chapter Text

Legolas POV

Seeing Harry in the distance, charging towards the army without any back-up, had my heart in my throat. Knowing that he is okay was like a breath of fresh air, but it only lasted a few seconds as I watched as he clashed with the Uruk Hai, his spells flying and their swords clashing. It didn’t take longer than a moment to know that Harry was being overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the enemy. Watching him had me mesmerized, so much so that I’m only vaguely aware of those I felled with my long fighting knives. There was something about his gaze that worried me, something that said he wasn’t entirely aware of his current surroundings. Part of me wonders if it has to do with what had occurred in his past? The look vanishes and is replaced with a mix of irritation and determination.

The sudden green gaze capturing mine is startling, only for it to disappear a second later, body and all. For a moment, I stop breathing, thinking that something terrible had happened. I am startled, and suddenly the anxiety disappears when a loud pop sounds right next to me. 

“Later,” Harry says breathily, hitting an Orc with a red-colored spell. 

I don’t question him and resume the action. After another three hours of battle and Gandalf’s back-up finally arriving, the battle of Helm's Deep ends in our victory. Before anyone can manage to say anything, I’m turning and enveloping Harry in a hug. He lets out a pained breath, and I loosen my hold, but I don’t let go. I am breathing in everything that he is, relishing in the fact that I have Harry back. Harry lets out a gentle chuckle, returning the embrace with just as much vigor. Eventually, the rest of the fellowship find us.

“Where is our celebratory embrace?” Gimli growls, his arms crossed awkwardly to accommodate the axe he still holds.

“I agree, this is a good time to celebrate,” Aragorn adds, his face has an expression that is half a kind smile and half-amused. 

“Well come here then, just this once,” Harry says with a sigh. 

I try to remove myself before the other two join in on what becomes a large group hug, but I was stopped by the sudden tightening of Harry’s arms around me. Once everyone finally let’s go,  Harry stumbles. He only avoids collapsing to the ground by my grip on his elbow, which I refuse to lose. 

“Harry, you must eat and rest.” I crease my brow as I look at him standing back upright. Aside from Harry’s chapped lips – which must be from lack of food and water – his eyes are heavy. Lined circles surround his green eyes, showing that he has had barely any sleep recently. It does not sit well with me to see him so worn down.

“Yeah, probably a good idea. Will you join me?” Harry tries to hide a shy smile that plays on his face.

“Of course.” I nod. 

I am quite comfortable not wanting to leave his side for an extended period. As we walk around Helms Deep, we notice just how much of a wreck it is; rubble and broken stone are littered everywhere. There are bodies piled against the walls, scattered everywhere — friend and foe alike. It takes too much effort to find a clear path amongst the fallen and the debris. We look for an area that has been set up to give the weary soldiers that are left standing, something to eat. I find a secluded area, somewhere hidden from the eyes of the rest of Helms Deep and that is free of rubble, and we eat the warm, hearty soup that was on offer. 

Harry and I don’t speak, we don’t really feel the need for words, having each other’s embrace is enough. Soon I notice Harry is nodding off. I gently tug him closer to me, wrapping my arms around him and resting my head against his. I listen to his faint breath as he falls deeper into his slumber. It’s not long before I feel the same pull to sleep, the exhaustion of the battle catching up to me, being secure in the knowledge that we are safe — at least for the night, I drop off too. 

The next morning, the fellowship gathers together and leaves Helm’s Deep for Isengard. Merry and Pippin are supposed to still be staying there with the Ents. From the information that Gandalf gave us, we think that Saruman may have been defeated on that front too. Harry and I still haven’t said much since the previous night. We woke wrapped in each other’s arms, and since there was no time for anything other than action. I’m unsure of what to say at this point, but all I want is to have time alone — to say something. We don’t stray far from one another’s side, though, and this brings me some comfort, we are both too afraid to be separated again — that much is clear. 

We find Merry and Pippin easily enough; they are out in the open with one of the Ents, laughing and singing. We cannot hear about what, but I do notice a wealth of food and pipes in hand. 

Gimli huffed, arms crossed and a frown across his face. “You young rascals! A merry hunt you’ve led us on, and now we find you feasting and… and smoking!” 

I swallow down a laugh, Harry also trying not to smile – though I can still see the faintest twitch of his lips. Merry grins and Pippin laughs a bit more at Gimli’s reaction.

“We’re terribly sorry, you’re welcome to join us!” Gimli is about to respond when the Ent interrupts, looking at Gandalf as he speaks.

“The wizard is locked inside the tower. What will you have us do with him?” 

“He should remain, under your watchful gaze, Treebeard,” Gandalf says calmly, eyes resting upon the lone tower still standing. 

“Very well,” Treebeard responds, turning towards Harry. 

“Hello, child of magic and death, welcome to Isengard.” 

Harry nods in acceptance, everyone else frowns at the greeting.

“Harry is not—!” Merry starts to say but is stopped by Aragorn. 

“Thank you for taking care of Merry and Pippin.” Aragorn is quiet as he speaks, his head tilting forward slightly. Treebeard simply nods in response. 

It is only then that I realize that Pippin has disappeared. Soon he walks up to us again, but now he is holding a strange-looking, obsidian, glowing sphere in his hands. The orb is large and heavy, looking more so in his small hands as he looks into it with a look of awe and confusion. Harry is suddenly tense beside me, and his eyes are glued to the glowing sphere. I saw as his gaze fixed on it almost as intently as Pippin’s — if not more so. A moment later, Gandalf snatches it away and wraps his robe around it, taking it out of sight. It makes me wary of what it could be – a Palantir, maybe? Harry is still tense like the orb still has his undivided attention and focus. I take his hand in my own without hesitation and gently squeeze it in reassurance. Thankfully, it seems to help as he relaxes once more and squeezes back, letting go a moment later. 

I’m left thinking about how his skin felt; how his hand fits so well into my own, his fingers interlaced with my own as though puzzle pieces made to be placed together. I swallow hard, pushing the thoughts back temporarily. I cannot seem to help that my mind is completely focused on him and not the many and varied tasks at hand. 

We once again set off, it’s almost as if Gandalf is in a hurry to move on from this place, or maybe from what took place; his demeanor has changed since the orb, and I cannot shake that it is important.  This time, we head back towards Edoras, where we will stay in Meduseld with Theoden once more. 

Along the path, Harry stops suddenly, and I look over at what’s caught his attention. I see a large snake curled into a ball at the base of a tree, it fills me with panic, as snakes are not really considered to be friendly creatures. I want to warn Harry against getting closer, I notice the colouring, and I know this variety to be venomous. Something in me makes me pause and watch instead. 

Despite the dangerous hissing coming from the snake, Harry doesn’t even flinch or back away — instead, he draws even closer. I watch as he moves his hand gently, sliding it against its scales. My panic worms it’s way up my throat when the snake twitches, baring its fangs, and I expect it to strike. I begin to step forward, my hand was stretched out to pull Harry away when he turns towards me.

“It’s fine, Legolas. He won’t hurt me or anyone else in the fellowship,” Harry says, reassuring me. I can see the certainty in his bright green eyes. 

My hand drops back to my side, and I’m confused but also sure that Harry would not lie or put us in danger. At this point, everyone else has stopped to watch what’s happening, to see what has held Harry and I up. The snake begins to shift, and it’s making everyone tense, but then it exposes a deep cut along its side - his side? 

Why did Harry call the snake ‘he’, and how can he be so sure of our safety? 

I watch as Harry covers the wound with this tip of his wand, muttering a few different spells I can only assume are meant for healing. I know he is a wizard, but I am still filled with wonder at how Harry can get so close to such a dangerous snake. Things finally begin clicking together, I remember all the previous occurrences I’ve seen Harry with snakes. None of them was threatening - or threatened by anyone. They all hissed at Harry, who was never frightened, but instead seemed amused by the hissing. He used strange movements with them as though replying to their hissing even though they couldn’t possibly understand.

Could they ...?

I continue watching Harry. The wound is now healed, and the snake stretches out to its full size. It’s huge, and I’m once again left wondering what is really going on as it hisses again and leaves when Harry smiles and nods. The snake doesn’t turn back but slithers quickly away. 

At this point, the only logical conclusion is that he can communicate with the snakes; they understand one another. I watch Harry as he returns to the group, completely at ease, as though nothing is at all out of the ordinary, and again I cannot help but wonder what his world was like. 

“Harry, can you…?” I tilt my head towards where the snake had just been, I wordlessly ask the question. Harry stares at me for a moment, glancing at the others, who have once more began walking away, shrugging off the strange incident. I’m completely aware of everything around me, and as Harry leans in close, his breath caresses my ear, and he hisses in a sibilant way that is far from frightening, even if the sounds are just that - sounds . 

*Yess, and they wish to know why I have not bedded you as of yet, Legolas* 

A shiver creeps up my spine, wondering what it is he said to me. Regardless, I can feel my body heating in response, letting out a breathy gasp. I cannot tear my gaze away from Harry, my eyes flicker down to his pink rosebud lips. My stare is heated, and I cannot help but notice Harry’s swallow and the way that his tongue slips out, licking his dry lips.

I am about to ask what he said, but the moment is ruined when Aragorn clears his throat a little bit ahead of us. “As amusing as this is, we need to be going.” Aragorn is smirking at Gandalf, and they both have amusement in their eyes.

By the time we reach Edoras, a sombre celebration begins. Theoden addresses his people, raising a chalice to them, “hail the victorious dead!” his voice raises high, saluting those that fought and died for their country. There is a moment of solemn quiet before cheers and repetition of their Kings sentiments are repeated. We all join in the celebrations, which quickly take a more joyful turn, then I watch as Harry makes his way outside and I slip away to follow him.

I find him easily, though he hasn’t noticed me as his gaze is unfocused. He looks just like he had every time he has been elsewhere, with Death, and I am sure that is where he is now. I stand beside him and wait. 

The wait isn’t long, soon Harry is blinking back to awareness, immediately noticing my presence beside him. A faint smile plays on his lips and then falters, and I know he has something to say.

“There’s a final battle coming quickly,” he begins. “We should not be relaxed for long,” Harry says, frowning. “Tonight it is going to begin, with the sphere, that will be at the center of it all.”

“Death?” 

I don’t have to say much else, Harry is already nodding to my question. It was Death who told him everything, and I feel that much tenser because of it, after all, who can argue with Death. Though I am glad to have this time together with Harry beside me. I drink in his form, which is outlined by the stars and moon, he has a lithe but athletic frame, muscular - handsome. He turns towards me, and his green eyes capture mine instantly. We stand there like that for a few moments, and Harry begins to talk.

“Legolas, I -”

There’s a ripple in the air that has both of us frozen. The darkness washes over us for only a moment, but it feels so much longer. I don’t hesitate, and at once I grasp Harry’s hand into my own; it is reassurance for us both.

“The eye of Evil is moving,” I whisper.

“This is the beginning of the end,” Harry finishes as we stand there together in the night, one more second, and then two. 

Then we release the hold as we have to rush to the room the fellowship is sharing for the night, dread in our hearts. 

Chapter Text

Third P POV

Legolas and Harry burst into the room that the fellowship had been given for the night. Aragorn was hot on their trail, whom they passed by on the way. He didn’t waste a single second when he saw Harry and Legolas, assuming correctly that something had gone horribly wrong. 

What they found was somewhat chaotic. Gandalf was not too far from a bowed over Pippin, whose eyes are squashed so tightly shut it looks painful. The others were in a panic, unsure what to do, eyes wide in shock. Gandalf is attempting to retrieve the Palantir from the hobbit, but unable to get a grip on the flaming orb with Pippin’s aggressive twitching movements. The bed-sheets have been hastily moved around in a panic, and it’s a surprise no one has tripped over anything. Harry and Legolas are watching from the doorway, shocked when Aragorn slips past them into the room.  Aragorn quickly snags the now glowing sphere from Pippins unusually strong grip, tossing it carelessly to the side in his haste to be rid of the evil artefact. 

Pippin collapses as soon as the sphere left his hands. Everyone focuses, watching in stunned silence as the Palantir continued to cause havoc. Gandalf was alert and his face furious, Aragorn was shocked and just as frightened as Legolas and Harry. Many things happened within several more seconds, and seemingly all at once. Merry was already rushing to Pippin, panicked, and Gandalf  thrust the poor hobbit off to the side as he desperately rushed to reach Pippin. The hobbit looked so small and frail where he had collapsed, and was still in a sort of dull shock, his eyes glazed over. 

“What did you see?” Gandalf asks harshly, but that was a contradiction to the way he treated the poor hobbit; his hand cradled his face, and his expression was caring and soothing. 

Pippin blinks to focus on the Gandalf, a figure so much larger and had so often been quick to anger. Still, now the Istari in front of him had soft eyes and concern for the foolish Took. Gandalf repeats the question and musters up the courage to finally Pippin answer.

“I— there was a tree,” Pippin stuttered, “in a courtyard of stone! A–and it was dead! I think i– i– it was white… and th— there was fire all ev– everywhere.”

“Minas Tirith…” Gandalf murmured almost as though a harsh curse. “Did you tell him anything? Did you?” Gandalf spoke a little more harshly now, eager and urgent to find the truth. The room was still tense, and everyone was frantic with worry and many questions. 

“No, nothing!” Pippin finally spoke. 

Only then did Gandalf’s shoulders finally relaxed, he stood back up and lay a comforting hand on Pippin’s shoulder, helping him up. He looked carefully into the hobbit’s mind, as though trying to see something more than what he was saying.

“There is no lie in Pippin’s eye, in fact, we have had a strange stroke of luck in seeing Sauron’s plans. He must ride to Minas Tirith, and he will not be going alone! The rest of you will remain here until I give the signal. If the Beacon Amon Dîn is lit, Rohan must answer.”

There’s a series of rumbling accents from the room accompanied with disjointed nods. Harry nearly offers to go with them but realizes that he would only slow them down. There was also, in the back of his mind, the knowledge that he would have to leave Legolas. It was a thought that he didn’t like. Harry knew from his experiences lately that he would rather avoid being separated from Legolas for any amount of time. The distance they had experienced had been more than enough, and they both feared to lose the other. 

At dawn, Gandalf takes Pippin, and they rode out immediately. The horse, Shadowfax, burst forth at top speed in their haste. The rest of the fellowship were to remain behind. Harry was feeling once again that the fellowship had failed, split and broken apart. Harry, Legolas, Gimli, Aragorn and Merry knew what their task was, to ensure that Theoden had support in answering the call to war, even if none of them like the prospect.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,

A light from the shadow shall spring.

Renewed shall be the blade that was broken,

The crownless shall again be King.    

Unknown to the Fellowship, not too far away, Arwen had successfully gotten her father to reforge the sword of Elendil for Aragorn. She had made her way to the harbors, but  as her visions forewarned of her loves coming need, she abandoned the safe haven. At the same time, Aragorn speaks with Theoden, making plans for the defense of Minas Tirith. They know than an army will be needed, though what men they currently have will not be enough, and Theoden didn’t know how many would answer the Kings call. 

Occasionally, Aragorn would check in on other members of the fellowship, making sure they were all doing fine but not getting too comfortable. His main focus was ensuring that they were ready for battle at a moments notice. Once he even caught Legolas with Harry, a bow in his hand and a target a few feet away. Legolas stood behind, arms around Harry guiding his hand. Aragorn hid his smile as he stood watching them together, before walking away rather than interrupting. 

Harry had reminded Legolas about the agreement to teach him how to use the bow and arrow, and Legolas was more than happy to comply. It was a slice of alone time, and something that he treasured; being close to Harry. 

“You want to keep your stance steady, and breath in as you pull the string back breathing out as you release the arrow,” Legolas said softly. 

He then pushes his foot between Harry’s to alter his stance, and his hands are laid gently on Harry’s to fix his hold on the bow. “You want to have your non-dominant hand to hold the bow and your dominant hand to pull the arrow back with the string.” Legolas’ chest bumped faintly against Harry’s back, both of them reddening from the warmth of their bodies pressed together. 

“Like this?” Harry asks, his voice barely above a whisper. It’s almost as though he is afraid to ruin the moment between them. 

“Here,” Legolas continued, “raise your hand a little farther up on the bow. That’s better.” Legolas’ breath tingled against Harry’s neck, causing a shiver to run up the wizard’s spine. “Now, pull the arrow back, slowly. Keep it close to your chin.” 

Harry breathed in as Legolas’ hand guided him as he pulled the string taut. 

“Aim for the center of the target, but don’t be in a rush to release the arrow,” the elf whispered. “Remember to breathe out as you release it. Go ahead, once you believe that you are ready.” 

Legolas let go and stepped away from Harry, who frowned at the sudden loss of Legolas’ body heat and the scent that clung to him; it was like a fresh green wood and a summer breeze. Refocusing on the task at hand, Harry aimed the arrow as instructed, and released it as he let out the long-held breath. It  soared too high above the chosen target, missing it completely. Harry spun around at the sudden sound of a barely held back snort of amusement. Raising an eyebrow at the elf, another huff of laughter escapes between clasped fingers. 

“Sorry, I don’t mean to laugh,” Legolas said in defense, though he is still grinning. 

Harry responds with a sigh, though there’s a small smile twitching at the corner of his lips. “Let’s try again,” he says determinedly. “I want to at least be able to hit the target.” Harry then pulled his wand out, and with a sharp flick, the  arrow soared back over to them and notched itself back into the bow. 

The next day, Gimli couldn’t help but watch them as they were sparing. Harry had his sword, and Legolas used his long white knives. It was fascinating to watch, as though they were dancing around each other. Gimli had been impressed with the east that Harry had learnt these new skills, and in battle, he incorporated it seamlessly with magic. Legolas would occasionally pause, giving Harry some suggestions on how to perfect elements, such as his footing and handwork. Always he focused on getting Harry to better to avoid leaving himself open for an attack or potentially tripping up. Harry did not use magic when they spared, though occasionally Legolas was stung by some unseen force, this brought a smile to Gimli’s face too.

On the third night, they see the light of the beacon of Amon Din. Immediately they know that it is a sign from Gandalf that Gondor needs their aid. They gather together to prepare to head out for Minas Tirith. Legolas and Harry don’t immediately notice, being in the middle of yet another spar. Aragorn was rushing toward them, and nearly out of breath as he shouted, “The beacons are lit! The Beacon of Amon Din is lit! Gandalf calls for aid.”

It was a unanimous decision to leave Edoras at first light. After the confirmation from King Theoden that they will rally an army and head out on the long journey to Gondor, the Fellowship begin their own preparations. 

Edoras manages to summon a vast army of their able-bodied men, eight thousand spears to break the lines of Mordor. They had wanted more, they needed more men.

Harry gathers any provisions the Fellowship may need during their long trek across middle earth, they leave. King Theoden, Lord Eomer and the Fellowship take the lead of the army, heading towards Gondor.

They do not have to travel long before they arrived at Dunharrow. They had planned to raise more men here before continuing their journey. In a matter of hours, there is a vast army camp already set up. It seems to be on the border of a range of dark and foreboding  mountains. Before Harry, Legolas and Gimli can turn in for the night and rest, they spot Aragorn leaving a large tent and heading towards a lone horse. He begins fitting it with a saddle and packing provisions. Immediately they are suspicious; they walk up to him before Aragorn gets the chance to potentially leave them all behind. 

“Where are you going?” Harry asks, his gaze landing on the strange sword that Aragorn did not possess before.

“Did you think you could leave without us? We shall be joining you,” Gimli says, leaving no room for argument, his axe already raised. 

Legolas, however, was more focused on the sword. “is that -?”

Aragorn gives a sharp nod. “This is Anduril; The Flame of the West. I have been advised by Lord Elrond to take the sword and head up Dimholt Road towards the undead army.”

“That army answers to no one,” Legolas cries. “Aragorn, they will kill you.”

“There is one that they will answer. They swore an oath to Isildur, and I am Isildur’s heir. I do not recommend anyone else coming.”

Gimli makes to prepare to mount another horse.

“Have you heard nothing of the stubbornness of Dwarves?” Legolas replies with a cocked brow. 

 “Come if you must, but friends, this is a dangerous journey.” He gets on the horse, his three companions quickly joining him. 

“An undead army?” Harry whispers, the very concept sending cold shivers through his body as he feels Death twitch at the words, like a flash of a headache - there at the back of your head one second, gone the next.  

“Yes, an army was cursed by Isildur, the King of Gondor. They swore an oath to fight for the king, and when Gondor’s need was dire, the army refused to show. They were cursed to remain as spirits until their purpose has been fulfilled. They can only be released from their living hell by the King of Gondor,” Legolas replies, glancing warily at the mountain ahead of us, the entrance growing nearer. “No one that has approached the army has survived to tell the tale.”

They are soon mounted and leaving for the Dimholt Road, and the trip is silent. When they finally reach the entrance, the horses become more and more distressed, forcing them to dismount. The horses - who are overcome with fear - bolt.  Harry can’t stop wondering how souls can be kept from Death as these ones have been, as his mind plays with the idea he quickly decides he probably doesn’t want to know.  

The journey through the mountain is a struggle. There is the half-seen ghosts haunting them; there, but not there, at the same time. The mountain is different from Moria, which Harry had experienced before; full of fear and death. The moment they enter the dark throne room, the spirits become obviously visible and surround them. Ghostly weapons are trained on all four of them from every direction, and they are forced into a close circle. One man comes forward, he is grander than the rest, and it is clear that he is their leader, he is frowning. He is the King of the undead.

Feeling threatened, Legolas immediately releases an arrow towards the King, only for it to sail right through his scared decomposing face. He is about to release another, but Harry stops him as Aragorn begins to speak. 

“I summon you to fulfill your oath to Gondor.” These words only seem to incite the ghosts’ fury, though.

“I suffer no man,” the King responds as he rushes at Aragorn with his sword raised. 

“You will suffer me!” Aragorn shouts as he stops the ghostly blade with the Anduril.

“Those who pass through these walls may not leave alive. You have no right to come in here and try to order me, for you are no King of Gondor.” The King states, pushing Aragorn back slightly and we move away from the battle, eyes cautiously on those around us in case one attacks. “That line was broken!” The kings fear and fury is evident, as he feels for the first time resistance by the living 

“It has been remade!” Aragorn challenges. “Fight for us, and regain your honor, and I will hold your oaths fulfilled! What say you?” Aragorn growls

The ghost King stops attacking, but a high cackling laugh surrounds them. “I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, the true King of Gondor and Heir to the throne. Help us, and I shall release you of your curse.”

Soon the chamber is empty, and it seems that the King of Gonder bought them safe passage, but nothing more. Dejected and worn out, they say nothing to Aragorn who seems to feel his failure heavily. It is when they are on the other side of the mountain that they see another force on the river bound for Gondor. Hopelessness overcomes the would-be King, and he collapses to his knees. 

In an unexpected twist, a green mist surrounds them, and soon the ghostly King stands before Aragorn once more.

“We fight!” he says with a cruel gleam in his eye.

Aragorn bows his head a fraction of an inch in thanks. The extra force will easily be wiped out before it even arrives in Gondor. Soon the idea of breaking the lines of Mordor seems so easy.  The ghosts backing away and fading into the rock but it is unlikely they are truly gone. The rest of the time there is spent planning an attack against Saruman’s forces from where they least expect it - the black ships.

Chapter Text

Harry POV

Previously: 

Soon the chamber is empty, and it seems that the King of Gondor bought them safe passage, but nothing more. Dejected and worn out, they say nothing to Aragorn who seems to feel his failure heavily. It is when they are on the other side of the mountain that they see another force on the river bound for Gondor. Hopelessness overcomes the would-be King, and he collapses to his knees. 

In an unexpected twist, a green mist surrounds them, and soon the ghostly King stands before Aragorn once more.

“We fight!” he says with a cruel gleam in his eye.

Aragorn bows his head a fraction of an inch in thanks. The extra force will easily be wiped out before it even arrives in Gondor. Soon the idea of breaking the lines of Mordor seems so easy.  The ghosts backing away and fading into the rock but it is unlikely they are truly gone. The rest of the time there is spent planning an attack against Saruman’s forces from where they least expect it - the black ships. 

“Eight! Nine, ten!”

“Nine, ten, eleven, twelve!” 

“Fifteen!” 

I grinned, sending spells in multiple directions, listening to Legolas and Gimli challenge each other on the number of Orcs they fell with each stroke. 

“Pretty sure I am at fifty, you two are slacking!” I shout over at them, sending another bright green spell towards an Orc to my left. 

Legolas retaliates by rushing towards one of the Olyphants, flipping around like he’s made of air and downing it like it was a pesky fly. I glare goodnaturedly at his triumphant smirk, Gimli beside me huffing. 

“Showoff,” Gimli said, and I nod in agreement - though certainly not complaining at the sight of. I quickly resume fighting, Gimli at my back, when the dead army suddenly swoops in, falling light a heavy fog on top of the battle, bodies falling as the army swiftly moves forward, completely unopposed. 

I stood still, watching, Death once more trembling under my skin, growling at the unnaturalness of it all. I agree with him, though incredibly glad for the assistance, and hope for their swift release from the curse once their task is accomplished. 

It is easy enough to locate both Legolas and Gimli as the dead army left, and we slowly made our way to where Aragorn stood, covered in blood and dirt. The King of the dead army in front of him, grimly staring one another down, anticipation filled the air. 

“As Aragorn, son of Arathorn, I am witness to your grand deeds in helping us in this battle and hereby release you from your curse.” Aragorn bows his head minutely, returned by the King of the dead army, before the King dissipates with those who follow him. As soon as the last vestiges of them disappeared, it felt as though Death heaved a sigh of satisfaction, and the tingling left my limbs from Death’s irritation. 

A few hours later, they enter Minas Tirith, quickly met by Gandalf, who has a concerned expression on his face.

“Frodo is beyond my sight now.” He explains, and the weight of the words are heavy on our shoulders.  I worry my lip, feeling Legolas’ hand clasped my shoulder in an attempt at reassurance, though it is easy for me to see the worry in his own eyes. We shift anxiously, quiet until Aragorn speaks up. 

“I have a plan. The Eye of the Evil is almost certain to locate them, but we can still help by providing a distraction for it to focus on instead. Though I would require a willing and able-bodied army to fight by my side.” 

It was not a difficult answer to come to, for any of us and it is solidified by Gimli bringing his axe up in the air.

“Certainty of death, small chance of success, what are we waiting for?”

I hide a snort of amusement, agreeing with the statement. It was obvious we would all assist Aragorn in his plan, in hopes of Frodo and Sam getting out of their ordeal alive. 

By the following morning at first light, an army is saddled and ready to ride out, hopes high in the prospect of this war ending once and for all. It only takes a few hours to reach the black gates to Mordor, the pure evil rushing through me in the blink of an eye, making those around me more uneasy at the battle to come. 

“This war has been long and hard for all of us; we’ve lost more than we have gained. What we are facing here and now is the end. The end of this war, the end of our suffering, the end of all the death and destruction we have been forced to endure. Today, here and now, is the battle to determine our future. To determine if we rise or if we fall.

“In this battle, as with all other battles, we shall fight with honor and with courage!” Aragorn gives a shout, sword thrust in the air before bringing it down to rush as the coming enemy forces, the black gates opening before us. 

The Fellowship rides forward hard, rushing the front lines in a splatter of blood and hoarse cries, swords, arrows and spells soaring into bodies of Orcs. I distantly hope that this will be the last fight I will have to partake in for a while to come, the prospect of living a peaceful life with Legolas for the foreseeable future is too sweet to let go of. If, of course, Legolas is agreeable to such an arrangement. 

I can feel the moment the eye latches its gaze upon us, the weight thick and heavy, but I push through the feeling, landing a Sectumsempra curse on an unsuspecting Orc. 

We get pushed back, however, when the Nazgul arrive and begin attacking us from the air, as we are only able to do so much against an aerial enemy. I try to hit them with a curse, only for the Nazgul to simply veer to the left and out of the way, only for the Nazgul to be gripped from above by a pair of giant talons belonging to an even bigger eagle. 

I stare at them in shock for a few moments, then force my attention back to the battle when a sudden shout catches my attention.

“Aragorn!” Legolas and Gimli are running towards the man, easily reaching him and helping Aragorn stand. There’s a deep gash in his side, bleeding sluggishly and I quickly throw a shield up around them as Orcs try and bring the three back down. 

But then the eye suddenly diverts it’s attention from us, and I shout over to Legolas,

“The eye!” and he immediately looks over to where it sits.

“Something must have happened,” Legolas says back, frowning, arm held securely around Aragorn until he is steady enough to stand on his own. I spread my senses as far as possible to find them, only to glide right past where they ought to be and come up empty.

I’m about to say something else when the eye suddenly begins to tilt and the ground rumbles beneath our feet - cheering erupts around us, even as we scramble to safety.

I watch in horror as the ground splits, debris falling into the blackened pit of the hole revealed, the eye burning up and disappearing in an explosion of energy. 

Things begin to settle down, but then the volcano erupts, and my inability to locate the Hobbits strangles my insides and I frantically cast out my senses for them once more - only to once more come up empty. I stare at the lava flowing down the mountain, eyes glazed over with unshed tears when Legolas kneels in front of me, concerned.

“What’s wrong, Harry?” He questions, hand reaching up to swipe at an escaped tear.

“The Hobbits - I can’t find them!” I gasp, Legolas immediately enveloping me in his strong embrace, uncaring of the audience. 

Chapter Text

Harry POV

I watch as Gandalf takes off with the eagles in search of the two missing Hobbits, only turning around to help the others once the Istari is out of sight. We are gathering up the men who have assisted us. We are tending to the fallen and injured, before being able to go back to Minas Tirith. The image was difficult to look at, one that would haunt me, but it’s one I had to deal with nonetheless. Men were huddled together in groups, puddles and smeared blood mixed with grime and mud everywhere I look. There were missing limbs, limp bodies, and broken weapons scattered around the battlefield.Our focus, unfortunately, is not with the fallen, but with those who need immediate medical attention. 

Using the few healing spells that I know, as well as the nature surrounding us, I help as much as I can. Mostly, I  am staunching blood loss and wrapping the stumps of those that survived the ordeal of having limbs removed.. Gandalf never returns to the group, so the assumption is that he is still trying to locate Sam and Frodo. I still can’t sense three of them, the worry tensing my shoulders and wand movements. I don’t relax, not until Legolas walks over and places a hand on my shoulder.

 “We are just about to leave, once you’ve finished up here, Harry? I just - it’s going to be okay.” Legolas’ cheeks are dusted pink as he tries to think of what to say. He is unsure while in front of others, and I can only smile faintly at him.

“Yeah, I’m done, let’s go,” I say. Turning to the man I had just been wrapping a nasty gash for, I ask, “Can you stand?”

“Yes, thank you.” The male nods, unsteadily getting to his own feet and heading towards the waiting group. 

We are soon on our way to Minas Tirith and we arrive barely ten minutes later. To our surprise, Gandald had also returned, a mere half an hour before. 

“Are they...?” Aragorn cuts himself off, not willing to finish the thought, or ask the question. 

Gandalf’s grave expression wasn’t promising. He sighed, nodding towards a nearby room. “Alive, yes, but they are injured. I got to them just in time,” Gandalf says heavily. “You should go to rest and eat. Sam and Frodo will likely sleep for the day and night.” 

We all nod, leaving for the kitchens, Legolas remaining beside me as Aragorn and Gimili take the lead. Merry and Pippin are the only ones that do not come with us, they refuse to leave their friends, and so Aragorn promises to bring them food. 

I reluctantly follow. Legolas’ gaze barely leaves me as though a question was burning inside of him. I am afraid to talk to the Elf, unsure of how the conversation about our feelings might go - if that is even what he wants to  talk about. I know that I love him, and would gladly spend the rest of my life with him… but would he? 

I heave a sigh, sitting at the nearest empty seat, staring down at the dark wood of the table. I am distantly wondering at the lack of food appearing from the kitchens? Where are the house elves working? Then a tapping on my shoulder brings me quickly out of the exhaustion-induced daze. Aragorns’ concerned face coming into focus, Legolas beside him holding two plates of food.

“Ah, sorry. Guess I forgot where I was for a moment. Thanks for bringing me a plate, Legolas.”

“You just concerned us, is all, Harry. Eat, then go get some rest. Both of you.” Aragorn says, quickly leaving the room after. 

Legolas grips my hand in his for a few seconds, then letting go to eat his own food. 

“I agree with Aragorn, Harry. Everything else can wait until later. For now, eat, okay?” His voice is soft, helping me relax slightly. 

I nod, bringing a piece of fruit up to take a bite. We spend the rest of the meal in a comfortable silence. After the meal, we find the room we were allowed to borrow and curled up together, falling into a blissfully blank sleep. 

“Where’s Aragorn been lately? I’ve hardly seen him around.” I ask, the question has been bugging me for the past three days as things settle down around us. We hadn’t yet had this conversation yet, due to being otherwise distracted with the war ending. Since the Fellowship is still at Minas Tirith, resting it seems like a good time to ask about Aragorn’s absence.  

“He is getting prepared to take the throne of Gondor. He will be distracted for some time,” Legolas responds as he inspects  his arrows for damage. 

He looks up at me then, a strange emotion in his gaze as he speaks. “What is it that you plan to do now, Harry? Are you going back to the other world you came from?” 

“I…” My voice trailed off, looking away when my chest tightens. What am I going to do now? I want to stay here with Legolas, but… 

‘ Oh honestly Harry, where has your Gryffindor courage gone? He obviously feels the same about you, you already know this. Just say something! He’s not going to say no.’ I hear Hermione berating me, the sound of her imaginary voice making me flinch. I continue to hesitate despite her tone due to worry and a sudden spark of uncertainty, only Legolas takes the silence as something else and sighs heavily as he gets up.

“I see, well it makes sense, I suppose. You probably want to return there now that the war here is over.” 

In my panic I stand up, and there is a rush to my head as I grab onto Legolas’ sleeve and pull him down with me. Landing with a harsh thump, I realize I’m practically straddling him - Legolas’ eyes are wide, filled with shock for a few seconds, but then they close, and as they open a cloud of indifference fills them instead. I steel myself, not wanting to risk him leaving again.

I take a deep breath and begin talking, “Look, I’m not good at this. I never have been. We have been travelling together for almost a year now, and I’m definitely closer to you than anyone else here in Arda. No one else knows about Death, or me being the Master of Death. No one knows that I am incapable of dying. No one else knows I can speak to snakes. No one else knows as much about my past as you do. No one knows me like you do. Back where I come from, everyone died. I don’t want to go back and don’t plan on ever doing so. 

“That means that I’m here, for good. And if I can spend that time with someone, I’d rather it be with someone that I … love.” I paused, my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “I want to spend that time with you, Legolas. I love you. So don’t you dare walk away without letting me explain. Maybe things have moved too quickly, but for me it feels like it’s been a decade since getting here and meeting everyone, especially you. 

“But all I needed to fall in love with you was that first glance; when you found me meditating under that Cypress tree. I would like to think my friends would wholeheartedly approve of you being the one to help me from falling farther into the darkness.”

By the time I finished talking, my chest was shaking with each inhale and exhale. My nerves were on edge as I waited for a response. As I looked into Legolas’ eyes once more, the indifference was gone; it was replaced with happiness, love, and something inherently soft and gentle. 

“We should go to Mirkwood when we leave here, so that my father can meet you, my love,” Legolas says softly, a hand gently brushing against my cheek before settling there. 

I smile, leaning down to capture his lips with my own in a gentle kiss, my heart fluttering when his move gently against my own. 

3 PPOV

A week  after Harry’s confession, Frodo had finally woken. Everyone from the Fellowship had been tended to, and finally were back in good health. The day after Frodo woke, Harry sought him out, finding the Hobbit sitting alone by a tree.

“Frodo, do you mind if I join you?” Harry asked, sitting down as Frodo nods with a small smile.

“How are you feeling?”

Frodo looks up at Harry, considering the question, humming faintly, he replied, “Good, considering.” 

Harry simply nods, understanding the burden that Frodo had had to bear and the pain of being the one bearing it.

“I figured as much. But now you can choose what to do with the rest of your life. You don’t have the Ring hovering over you anymore. However, I feel it necessary to remind you that Sam, Merry and Pippin are always going to be your friends and you should do your best to not shut them out.” Harry spoke from experience. He understands what it is like, having a huge burden on your shoulders and not knowing what to do afterwards - not having someone ask what you want to do with the rest of your life. However, it’s also easy to forget that those who stuck by are still there during the darker days after everything that’s happened. “Keep them close, Frodo, and let them keep you on your feet. They care a great deal for you and I know that you do for them. Legolas and I will visit as often as we can.” Harry smiled, looking up at the blue sky devoid of clouds. 

“Thanks, Harry. I will certainly do my best. It’s hard though, you know?” The question was rhetorical, but Harry nodded all the same. 

Seeing the others approaching, and knowing that Frodo, being the hero of this war would have many other visitors, he got up to leave. Before walking away from the Hobbit, he smiled and replied, “I know.”

It was time for Aragorn to be crowned. He was the rightful King of Gondor, Harry couldn’t help but repeatedly gaze around the huge crowd in search of Legolas. He had disappeared some time ago without much explanation. All Harry had to go on was the promise that he was going to return before the announcements were made. The time had come,but there was still no sight of the Elf.

It wasn’t until Arwen approached Aragorn, now King of Gondor, and was swept up into a passionate kiss, that Harry finally saw him. Harry had to stop mid-step, as he almost lunged towards him. 

Dressed in new robes fit for a Prince, Legolas was absolutely stunning. Harry could barely get a word out, let alone finish walking towards the Elven Prince. Harry is brought out of his stupor when Legolas fauntly chuckles in his ear, his breath gently caressing the side of his neck.

“I’m back, Harry,” Legolas whispers, hands landing on Harry’s hips. 

“Finally,” Harry manages to whisper in turn., 

Harry pulls Legolas into a kiss just as passionate as Aragorn and Arwen’s, if not more so. The cheering around them intensifies, but they are content to block out the noise. Leaving, so it’s just the two of them, together.  

As Harry and Legolas travel Arda, Harry draws upon his memories from before he arrived there. The first picture he ever did was of his best friends; Ron and Hermione, showing it to Legolas and telling the Elf everything he could about the two. It continued from there, every happy memory that Harry had of the wizarding world. As they grew closer and Harry knew he had to share more, he drew some of the not so happy memories such as his time living in the cupboard under the stairs. They laughed and cried together over each one. 

Then Harry told Legolas about his parents, what he knew of them, and Voldemort’s role in the war and the end of his old life. There were a few things Harry knew for sure; he was home with someone he loved, and being the Master of Death isn’t so bad after all. Especially since it helped him find true happiness, in the arms of Legolas Greenleaf. 

At least, until the next big adventure, if there ever was one.