Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter One: Any Port in a Storm

Deet was walking away. She was leaving and there was nothing he could do but watch her go; her large eyes filled with a sickly purple hue. The woods swallowed her into its depths, barring him from following as branches, roots and brambles, veined with the same purple that pulsed through Deet, twisted unnaturally and grew at an alarming rate in her wake.

It took less than a minute for his view to be obstructed entirely and he sighed heavily. Rian continued to stand there, hearing the creaks and groans of moving branches slowly fade away until all was quiet. His hair was plastered to his head with sweat and his clothes were filthy from his battles with skekVar and skekMal, but he didn't seem to notice. His ears gently flicked.

It really was silent. Surely he should be able to hear some foliage rustle or little critters skitter about? Had Deet or the Darkening she was spreading frightened them off?

Rian felt the little hairs at the back of his neck rise and his ears jolted up in alarm. There was no way to pursue Deet at the moment so he turned around and began making his way back to Stone-in-the-Wood. He would tell his friends about Deet and perhaps they could come up with a way to find her and cure the Darkening. He’d prefer to go after her alone, but there was too much Thra for one Gelfling to track down one other Gelfling.

Rian hadn't gone far when he felt it - a horrible feeling that washed over him and sent chills down his spine. Then came the sound.

An eerie whoosh followed by several sharp, rumbling cracks; almost exactly like the thunder from the dangerous, forked lightning that accompanied the terrible storms that ravaged Thra now and then.

He looked up at the sky to check for dark clouds between the trees that towered all around. Rian saw the briefest flash of purple light before everything went dark.

Brea was sitting with her older sister on some boulders just outside the village, loosely fiddling with the tip of a braid. It was, she thought, quite awkward. They had always been at odds with each other, never seeing eye to eye. The death of Tavra had brought them together, but it didn't erase the many trine of bitter interactions.

The youngest princess had left the Crystal Shard back in the village with Mother Aughra. She knew she wouldn’t be able to pay attention to Seladon properly if she had it in her hands. Her desire to study it was strong and part of her selfishly hoped whatever her sister wanted would be over with quickly so she could get back to the Shard.

"Listen, Brea, I know now how utterly wrong I was, and how badly I treated everybody..." Seladon said in somewhat of a rush. She fell silent as her younger sister held up a hand.

"It's alright, Seladon."

"But it isn't!" she burst out.

Now Brea felt bad for her selfish thoughts. Her sister was clearly hurting, but she was too. Her thoughts flashed to the strange pair that lived at the Circle of the Suns. Unity, they had said. Unity is the key. She was not quite ready to forgive Seladon yet, but they did need to work together from here on.

Brea took a deep breath. "You fought with us here, against the Skeksis. And you will continue to fight for all Gelfling. You made a mistake, yes, but you're doing your best to fix it! That's what matters; what you do now , not what you did then . We are together, on the same side," she said passionately, dropping her braid and placing a hand on Seladon's shoulder.

Seladon sniffled slightly, impressed by her little sister's impromptu speech. "Thank you," she said, infusing those two words with all the gratitude she could muster. A nagging doubt pricked her mind that Brea would make a much better All-Maudra than she ever would, even without the training from their mother. She let none of it show though, only giving a small smile.

Brea grinned brightly but a gasp suddenly escaped her lips. "Did you feel that?"

The older girl tilted her head and frowned. "Huh?"

“Is there a storm coming?” the younger asked, looking up with a curious frown.

Seladon mimicked her and narrowed her eyes at the sky. It didn’t look like the clearest day, but it didn’t look like stormy weather either. Could a storm roll in that fast? “I’m not sure. Perhaps we should head back and take shelter just in case.”

She didn't hear if Brea replied as a flash of purple light dragged them both into darkness.

Kylan groaned. By Thra, his head hurt! So did the rest of his body, now that he was conscious enough to register it. Something touched his arm and he jolted in shock, his eyes now wide open. He wrenched his arm away on instinct, but the touch became a vice-like grip.

"Steady, Kylan, it's only me," came a voice off to his right.

The song-teller turned his head. He relaxed instantly as he saw Naia crouched beside him. "Oh, it's only you," he said in relief. "Much better than a Skeksis, that's for sure!"

Naia only frowned, causing Kylan to tense up again, but she let his arm go. "I don't think those old tyrants are our biggest problem right now," she said grimly, looking around.

Kylan copied her and let his eyes wander. They were surrounded by buildings, but they were not the rustic dwellings of Stone-in-the-Wood; they stuck out from nature and didn't blend in the slightest bit. He drew in a somewhat strangled breath. "Where are we?" he whispered.

"Nowhere I've seen. Or even heard of," she replied, voice low.

Kylan carefully sat up, his fingers running through grass that was strangely short, as though something had been faithfully grazing. "What do we do now?" he asked plaintively.

The Drenchen was quiet for several moments. "Perhaps we are not the only ones here. I don't know what that strange flash of light was, but we should see if we can find anyone else. That light may have moved us."

"Yeah, okay, sounds like a plan," he said with a nod, accepting her hand as she helped him to his feet. Kylan couldn’t see any other Gelfling in view, no matter which direction he looked. "Which way?"

Naia snorted dryly. "You ask that as if I know this area better than you."

"Well you were awake before me," he joked nervously.

She shook her head, a hint of a smile playing at the edges of her mouth. "Fine. This way," she said, striding off in a random direction.

Kylan gave a brief chuckle before hurrying after her. He let his eyes scan his surroundings, everything unfamiliar and alien. Were those buildings homes? They were all so large, what on Thra lived in them? Surely not Gelfling? Were they still in Skarith?

Naia was taking in the surroundings as well. Several big shiny things lined the broad black pathway they were travelling down, each one in front of a different building. Were they alive? Did they act as guards for the buildings? Would one attack? She discreetly palmed her dagger, ready to strike. There were light sources, quite high up, spaced evenly along the road, so they should be able to see oncoming threats. Or, if they were lucky, their friends. They had only been walking for a couple of minutes when she turned to Kylan as he called her name.

Kylan moved one shaky hand to point at the night sky. "There's only one moon !" he breathed out.

Naia looked up and, as he had said, only one luminous, silvery orb graced the night sky. It didn't look like any of the Three Sisters. Where was the Blue Moon, the Pearl Moon and the Hidden Moon? A deep foreboding settled over the Drenchen.

"Naia?" Kylan called again.

"Let's...focus on our current goal for now," she said evenly, proud and relieved that her voice had been steady.

"...right," he agreed, trying to push the uncomfortable thoughts aside.

An angry yowl split the air. Kylan drew closer to Naia as she ducked into a battle-ready stance, his heart quickening its pace. A shadow darted across the road, too fast for either Gelfling to properly see.

"Yeah, you better run! Mangy little...whatever you are," a male voice grumbled.

Naia smiled and rushed forward. "Gurjin!" she exclaimed.

Sure enough her brother walked near, stopping under one of the lights. His face lit up when he saw them. "Am I happy to see you two!" He let out an oof as Naia reached him and pulled him into a tight hug. He hugged her back with equal fervour. "Are you both okay? Where are we? This place is beyond weird," he said rapidly.

"Yes, no idea, and I agree," Kylan answered. "What about you? Are you hurt?"

Gurjin shrugged. "I'm fine. Very confused, but no injuries," he said as his sister's gaze raked over him, looking for bruises and wounds.

"What was that creature?" the song-teller asked.

"Beats me," Gurjin replied, shaking his head. "I woke up to it pawing at me. From what I could see it was a bit like a fizzgig? Less fluffy and more hissing than anything. Didn't take much to scare it off to be honest."

"We're searching for others," Naia said, cutting to the heart of the matter and bringing their animal chat to an abrupt end.  "I'm glad we found you, but it proves that there are likely other Gelfling nearby that were moved by that light as well."

Gurjin shuddered as his sister mentioned the light, remembering the strange phenomenon all too well. "Obviously I'm coming with you," he quickly said.

"Obviously," his sister replied with equal speed.

"Great!" Kylan said happily as he softly clapped his hands together.

Someone was calling her name. The voice wasn't loud, but it carried anxious and urgent undertones. Fingers gently tapped her cheek, further forcing her groggy mind away from the blank void of unconsciousness. Brea opened her eyes to see Seladon hunched over her, their faces only inches apart, her sister's gaze wide and frightened.

"Oh Brea, you're awake! You need to get up and we need to go!" Seladon said, backing up to give Brea room and holding a hand out.

Brea blinked slowly and took the offered hand, letting Seladon heave her to her feet. She stumbled, standing awkwardly, and only just then realised that she had been laying in some sort of bush. She hastily brushed off bits of foliage from her clothes, her hands stopping all motion as she turned to her sister. "Seladon...why is it suddenly night time and where are we? This doesn't look like Stone-in-the-Wood..."

Seladon shook her head, sending the ends of her long hair swinging. "I...I don't know," she said softly, her eyes sweeping left and right, taking in all of the shadows around them as though one would grow claws and snatch her away into the darkness.

“At least it’s not the Castle?” Brea said, trying for some levity.

Seladon rewarded her efforts with an unamused stare. “There are other dangerous places besides the Castle, as I’m sure you’re aware. I think we’re on somebody’s property and we should get off it.”

Brea briefly examined their surroundings. They were next to a very large building, about three times the height of a Vapran house in Ha’rar, and seemed to be in a garden. She saw the bush she’d inadvertently squashed and sent a silent apology to the owners. There was a white picket fence around the garden that came up to their chins and did not look easy to climb over.

Brea unfurled her wings, Seladon copying her, and the two jumped, fluttering just enough to clear the fence. There was some sort of large road before them. It wasn’t made of dirt, nor was it the nice stone roads in Ha’rar. The young princess ran her fingers over it lightly, ignoring her sister’s warnings. It was like black sand, smoothed out and frozen somehow, yet not cold to the touch.

“If this is a road, I think we should stick by it,” she said decisively.

“Why? We’d be out in the open,” Seladon argued. “Wouldn’t it be safer to stick near the buildings where there are plenty of places to hide if something comes?”

Brea began walking, forcing Seladon to follow with an angry hiss. “While you do have a point, how are we supposed to find anyone else if we do that? Or how will they find us?”

“ Anyone else ?”

“Of course. You don’t think it was just us that got caught by that light, do you? Everyone from in and around Stone-in-the-Wood may have been taken too,” she said matter-of-factly.

Seladon felt the weight of being All-Maudra settle heavily on her shoulders. It was her job to look after all the Gelfling as best she could. It had seemed like such a black and white job back when she watched her mother. When the Tithing Ceremonies came and went. When she was safe in the palace, living in luxury and only hearing mundane complaints over and over from farmers and the like.

She took a deep breath and sighed. “Fine. But if we run into anything other than a Gelfling from Stone-in-the-Wood then I will lay all the blame at your feet as we get dragged off,” she said, sarcastic humour leaking into her tone.

Brea only smiled happily and cheerfully agreed.

Chapter Text

The darkness and the cold pressed in from all sides, making everything feel heavy and slow. Rian spent several long moments just blinking slowly, trying to work out if he was even awake or not. He shifted his hand and a sharp rock poked into his palm, making him draw his hand back with a wince. Definitely awake.

With that realisation came a slew of other aches and pains that instantly began clamouring for his attention and he sucked in a shallow breath, curling up a little and clenching his teeth to keep quiet. When he felt composed enough to move, he sat up to take stock of his body’s various complaints and to check if any critters had wandered too close.

He stared dumbly at the scenery.

Gone were the trees and plants of the Endless Forest. Gone were the tiny creatures that seemed like part of the flora until they moved. Gone were the branches and roots twisted by the Darkening. In fact, the entire Endless Forest was gone.

The Stonewood shakily stood up and leaned against a strangely carved rock. His fingers found something slightly wet and sticky and he saw blood. He raised his other hand to brush across his face and a sharp sting on his cheek, covered by something equally wet and sticky, let him know exactly where the blood had come from. If he’d crashed into a rock then it was little wonder he hurt so much, he thought woozily.

Behind him were some trees and beyond that appeared to be a field of some kind. All the other directions held grass, dotted all over by stones just like the one he was leaning on, with the occasional statue here and there to break things up. It was like the strangest meadow full of the biggest, weirdest stone flowers out there. Rian had been all over the Endless Forest and knew there was nowhere like this place nestled in its depths, so where on Thra was he?

Perhaps Deet was nearby? That purple light had looked suspiciously like the Darkening and now there were no obstructions keeping him from Deet if she’d been brought here as well. He walked forwards with determination, away from the field at his back, in the hopes of finding a familiar figure among the stones.

After about a minute his pace had been cut in half as his body protested the movement, but he could now hear something close by. The warrior picked his way forward carefully, keeping a stone or statue in front of him as best he could as an echo of his father’s voice urged caution in his mind.

A tall figure in a black cloak came into view, mostly distinguishable from the night due to the bright white light on a stick it was holding, and Rian ducked behind the nearest stone, senses on high alert.

“What are we even looking for?” asked a distinctly male voice.

“For whatever the source of that surge of dark power was. Just...look for something out of place. It hasn’t been that long since we were here, summoned by our lord, so whatever it is should be obvious. Got it?” answered another male voice.

Rian peeked around the stone to see a second figure near the first. It, too, was tall and covered in a black cloak, leaving the Gelfling unable to make out any features, even with the help of the second stick-light this one held. He couldn’t understand a word they’d said to each other, but both were clearly searching for something. His eyes narrowed and he crouched down to move between stones, going in a circular path around them.

He’d managed to get halfway, and was now roughly level with them, when one of the figures gave a triumphant shout.

“Found it! Avery, get over here!”

The other figure hurried to join their companion, reaching them as the one that shouted bent over and picked something up off the ground, half hidden behind a statue where the ground was quite scuffed.

The figure straightened up and Rian gasped out a soft exclamation of, “Deet!”

The Grottan girl was lying awkwardly in the figure’s arms; eyes shut, purple veins visible on any area of exposed skin, limp and unresponsive. Rian hoped with everything he had that she was simply unconscious. He lurched forward, intent on rescuing her somehow, when the two cloaked figures did a strange little half-spin and vanished into thin air with a loud crack that hurt his ears.

Rian dashed out from his hiding place to the spot where they’d disappeared, everything feeling darker without the stick-light, frantically looking for any sign of where they had gone so he could track them. The ground around that spot really was scuffed, far more than those two could’ve done from what he’d seen. Had Deet done something?

The former Castle Guard almost growled. So many questions and no answers at all. After several minutes of fruitless searching his shoulders slumped and he blew out a weary breath. He’d lost her again, seconds after seeing her. If the both of them had been brought here though, perhaps others had? Rian shrugged, figuring there was no harm in checking and nothing else for him to do anyway.

The Stonewood marched off in the direction the cloaked figures had come from, sticking close to hiding spots just in case.

Kylan jumped as a yowl split the air. He felt less like a Gelfling and more like a bundle of nerves given Gelfling form. He’d probably felt this bad when sneaking into the Castle of the Crystal with Naia to rescue her brother, but he honestly couldn’t remember. If either Drenchen sibling was nervous then they hid it well and Kylan was jealous.

The three reached an area where the road wound around on itself and branched off in multiple directions, leaving a large, empty patch of grass in the middle. It was an open, exposed spot and Kylan did not want to wander out there. He was relieved when Naia stopped, Gurjin half a step behind her.

“Does this scream ‘trap’ to anyone else?” Gurjin casually inquired.

Naia ushered them to a nearby bench with a line of neatly trimmed hedges and ducked behind them. “Let’s watch for a while and see if we can figure something out.”

“Something like that?” asked Kylan, pointing at two bright orbs coming towards them down one of the roads.

Naia’s eyes narrowed and her brow furrowed slightly as she focused her full attention on the large creature with reflective eyes. She subtly readjusted her grip on her dagger, making sure no light reached the blade that could alert anyone or anything to their position.

“Maybe it’s friendly?” Gurjin whispered, looking unsure as a rumbling noise, like a constant low growl, could be heard coming from the same direction, getting louder as the orbs came closer.

“Be ready,” Naia said.

“Ready to do what?” Kylan asked immediately after.

The female of the group scowled. “Whatever we need to,” she replied tersely.

When it reached the road that wound around, the lights revealed one of the shiny things they’d seen in front of the buildings. It followed the road around, going right past their hiding place, and gave them a good look at it. The orbs they thought were eyes were not reflecting the light, they were generating it, throwing beams of strong light a reasonable distance before it so it could see where it was going. It sounded like an irritated fizzgig that was constantly grumbling as it rolled around, but it faithfully stayed on the road and was gone out of sight quite quickly.

Naia felt some vindication for her earlier thoughts about them. They were alive. If they were not guarding the buildings, perhaps it was where their owners lived and all the ones they had passed by must have been sleeping. They were too large with unknown temperaments; best to avoid them entirely for now.

Gurjin shuffled restlessly, peeking over the hedges. “I can’t see or hear anymore of those things, so what now? We can’t stay here all night,” he pointed out.

“I’m not sure we could keep sneaking around all night either,” Kylan said with a sigh.

Naia’s ears lowered a little. “We’ll stay and watch a little longer. If one of those things can be active at night, maybe whatever lives in the buildings can be, too. We just don’t have enough information,” she said with a tone of finality.

“I never did like night shift,” Gurjin muttered, making Kylan smile slightly.

The young Vapran princess was almost skipping down the road. She would have been far ahead of her sister, who was walking near the side, but for the fact that she kept stopping every few steps to inspect something. Her ears would perk at a noise, she’d tilt her head at something interesting and there were a few times she’d wander off the road to try and poke at something. Only Seladon’s furiously hissed out warnings about touching something that may be poisonous held her back from making contact with anything.

Seladon felt inexplicably tired. Not physically, although she suspected that would change soon enough, but mentally and emotionally exhausted. She fretted so much over Brea in this strange place as her sister’s curiosity was bound to end badly sooner or later. How in the name of Thra did her ragtag group of friends handle it?

Although they were all likely just as bad in their own ways, she thought; that Grottan girl and her spoon-wielding Podling flashing to the forefront of her mind, along with the Stonewood that had been accused of murdering a Vapran at the castle. She’d met the Grottan personally, but had only seen the Stonewood in Dream Space with Mother Aughra - until they’d met up for the battle against the Skeksis at Stone-in-the-Wood after the fire message.

A low rumbling noise and two points of light down the road brought her out of her thoughts. “Brea, get off the road!” she called out as loudly as she dared.

“What? We’ve been over this, Seladon,” she replied with a groan, exasperation leaking into her voice.

“I mean it! Something’s coming! Move, quick!” shouted Seladon, reaching out and gesturing frantically.

Brea had never seen her sister so rattled, except for when Tavra had been gravely injured and then returned to Thra. It was only then that she noticed the noisy creature, with its sights set on her, closing in fast. She gasped, squinting against the bright light.

Seladon took a few steps onto the road with her arms outstretched and called out again.

A loud noise, almost ear-splitting to the two Gelfling, blared out like a battle cry. It jolted Brea into action and she yelled out wordlessly, scrambling towards her sister and latching hands with her, feeling herself being pulled forward.

Seladon struggled with the added weight going backwards and tripped at the road’s edge, pulling Brea down on top of her and knocking the air out of them both. The creature passed by, but neither really noticed as they got their breath back. They laid there for several moments before Seladon tried to push her little sister off, prompting her to struggle upright with a few half-stifled giggles.

Once Brea got over the accidental tickling, she helped Seladon up and the two stared at each other before embracing. “Thank you,” Brea said gratefully.

Seladon straightened out her clothes as best she could. “Let’s walk here on the side of the road, shall we?” she asked with a sniff.

“Yes...yes, let’s do that,” agreed Brea quietly.

The two walked slower than before and the younger girl only strayed a few steps further away from the road now and then to look at something in a garden they were walking by. Both had their eyes and ears focused to catch anything that may present a threat.

Brea couldn’t help herself and ran a finger over the beautiful petals of a large flower while Seladon’s gaze was turned the other way, smiling brightly at the soft and smooth feeling. She hastily pulled her hand back and walked on as Seladon turned around, feeling equal parts guilty and elated. She’d never read about such a flower! Or about the large creature, or the kind of roads they had here. It was utterly fascinating and she wanted to find a place to stop and write it all down while it was still fresh in her mind.

The scenery, bar little details, was much the same for the entire walk. Large buildings on either side of the road, some bigger than others, some with fences, some with gardens, some with nothing but a little pathway to the front door. After what felt like a great amount of time, the two royals came upon an open area where the road went in a loop and branched off in multiple directions, the buildings sticking to the outer side of the road.

“I don’t like this,” Seladon said warily, her eyes casting about for signs of another large creature on any road.

“We can’t stand here forever,” Brea shot back gently.

A few notes of an old Gelfling tune floated through the air and the sisters froze before trying to find the source.

“There!” Brea exclaimed, pointing at a figure that was waving at them a short distance away.

Seladon dutifully looked and could just make out the Spriton boy Mother Aughra had summoned in that bizarre dreamfast. He was holding a firca and there were two Drenchen beside him which she also recognised. Here was proof that others were here as well and it was not just her and her baby sister stranded by themselves. Seladon felt a tug on her hand and let Brea drag her over to the others.

“Oh, Kylan! Naia! Gurjin! I’m so happy to see you!” Brea said as she hugged each one, ignoring the fact that Naia didn’t really hug her back.

“Have you seen anyone else?” the All-Maudra asked.

Gurjin shook his head. “You’re the first,” he reported. “If everyone in Stone-in-the-Wood and just outside it got moved then you’d think we would’ve seen way more Gelfling by now.”

“I’m starting to wonder if it did move everyone and not just a few,” Naia murmured.

“What do you mean?” asked Brea.

“Nothing yet,” the Drenchen replied. “The only Gelfling we’ve seen here were involved in that dreamfast with Mother Aughra, but that doesn’t prove anything yet. We haven’t been here long enough to truly tell.”

Kylan carefully finished tucking his firca away. “Does that mean we should be able to find Rian and Deet around here?”

Brea nodded absently. “It’s a sound theory.”

“Rian’s always in the middle of trouble and I think he went after Deet so we should find them both,” Gurjin said with a shrug. Being Rian’s best friend often landed him right in the middle of trouble too, but he honestly wouldn’t have it any other way no matter how much he complained about it.

Seladon sat behind the hedge, prompting the others to do the same, and looked at them all evenly. “It’s too dark and I’m sure we’re all too tired for any more wandering about right now, but we can start looking again first thing in the morning. For now, I’d like to discuss ideas for shelter for the rest of the night.”

“Sounds fair,” Naia said, giving Seladon an appraising look. She hadn’t forgiven the Vapran for her disrespect in the dreamfast, nor for what her mother had told her of the stunt she’d pulled against the other Maudras, particularly Fara, regarding the Living Crown. Still, Seladon was the All-Maudra now and Naia wasn’t one to turn down a legitimately good idea, no matter who it came from.

“Maybe we could wait here for a while longer? Brea and Seladon found their way here, just as we did,” Kylan said in a reasonable tone. “Perhaps Rian and Deet, and whoever else may be out there too, will do the same?”

Gurjin peeked over the hedge as if to spot his missing friends. “I’ve gone through with far worse ideas,” he admitted nonchalantly, making Kylan and Brea smile, while Naia just gave a frustrated sigh.

The building directly behind them suddenly lit up and the door opened. If they moved they’d be spotted instantly, so Naia hissed at them all to hunker down and stay perfectly still. Hopefully the light wasn’t sufficient enough to make them out and the whatever-it-was would go back inside.

A tall figure stood in the doorway and looked around, muttering something. It was dressed in soft looking clothing, not anything that resembled fighting attire at least. It stepped forward into the light, a hand shading its eyes and casting its face in shadow. It stiffened, clearly spotting them, and strode towards them, making angry gestures for them to shoo.

“Get out of here, you brats! Playing your bloody recorders or whatever at this hour of the night. I’ll call the police, you see if I don’t!” it shouted.

The Gelflings looked at each other with varying degrees of surprise and anxiousness. As one they rose and fled, heading in the opposite direction of the figure. The words hadn’t made much sense, but the tone more than made up for it. They ran across the open stretch of grass and onward to another road that branched off, automatically sticking to the side of the wide black path that belonged to large denizens of this place.

Chapter Text

Several paladins were roaming around Stone-in-the-Wood. The last of the Three Brothers had kissed the horizon and night was stealing across the land, but the All-Maudra was nowhere to be found. A few Gelfling had mentioned the absence of several others as well, including the well-known face of Rian. The paladins, fearing the worst, had decided to comb the settlement for any missing Gelfling, though the safety of the All-Maudra was their top priority.

Night had fallen completely by the time the searchers had stopped and convened near the Crucible. It was an easy to find landmark and provided a decent source of light. None of them had good news to share and it was reluctantly decided that they should wait until morning. Either the missing Gelfling would wander back by then or they would simply start the search anew.

Once they split up to attend to themselves for the night, one of the search party members crawled closer to the Crucible and lay at the foot of the imposing structure.

Baffi the fizzgig, once the beloved companion of Maudra Fara, whined and yowled softly; mourning the absence of the one with pale skin and pale hair that he had chosen as his new companion. She had been with Fara during her last moments and had been a great source of comfort for the animal. Now that comfort was gone and Baffi was alone, despite the many Gelfling that were around.

Baffi had crawled and rolled around many places in search of the pale one, eyes roaming and nose sniffing madly, but it had been for naught. There were so many Gelfling around, some even like the fizzgig's pale one, that the scents had become far too jumbled to pick out an individual.

Many Gelfling were looking around and Baffi wondered if they were searching for the pale one too, or if they’d lost their own companions. A squat figure shambled into view and Baffi instantly got up. It wouldn’t hurt to try seeking help from this one, so the fizzgig shot off, stopping just shy of the figure’s feet. Baffi let loose a series of barks, growls and whines, begging the figure to understand.

Mother Aughra stopped before she stepped on the overly fluffy creature and cocked her head as she listened.

“Is that why the Gelfling are running about? Bah! None told Aughra. None asked Aughra for help. Except for you! Fizzgig has more sense than a dozen Gelfling combined. Ha!” she said, her face twisting into a darkly amused expression. “No, little one, Aughra hasn’t seen Seladon-”

She stopped suddenly, mouth open and eyes wide in horror. Her left eye squeezed shut and she put her face in her hands. “Oh, no. No, no, no...what is happening? The heroes of Thra - gone!” Aughra exclaimed wretchedly, her entire demeanour screaming of despair. “Can’t see their paths! All paths without them are bad! Where did they go that even their parts in the song of Thra have been silenced?”

Baffi whined, pawing at the hem of Aughra’s dress, her distress adding to his own.

“Dead?” Aughra said, voice high. “Don’t know. Thra would know if the chosen ones were dead, hmm?” She shook her head roughly, sending her uneven shoulder length grey hair swinging wildly around her curly horns. “Need to talk to Gelfling,” she muttered, sending the fizzgig scampering away as she stomped off.

Baffi saw her flag down one of the pale ones scurrying about with her stick. Aughra had moved far enough away not to be heard clearly, but the Gelfling looked guilty and scolded, like a young one, a fizzling, that had been caught trying to sneak out of the den before it was ready.

The lonely critter went back to the spot at the foot of the Crucible to wait for news. It was warm there and was where the paladins would meet, so hopefully Baffi wouldn’t miss anything by staying here.

The sky was starting to lighten, turning the colour, a blue so deep it was virtually black, to something resembling indigo as the yellow-orange light mixed itself into the darker hues. It was slowly making progress towards a pinkish hue as the sun got ready to peek over the horizon. With this change came enough light to begin transforming the landscape from something unknown and eerie to something unknown and baffling.

New details were constantly being revealed as the light increased incrementally. It was equal parts fascinating and disconcerting, as it drove home that they were in a completely new place; no Gelfling records, written or spoken, mentioned any of the features that they could see. The large shiny creatures that were still asleep now appeared to have different coloured pelts, including black, white, silver, red and blue. They seemed to be different breeds, too, as some were bigger and stockier while some were smaller with lower-slung bodies.

There had been some discussion about the figure that had threatened them. All they could tell was that the figure had not been dressed for combat and looked rather Gelfling-shaped except for the head. If the figure had any hair then it was as short as a very young childling’s, nor did it have the obvious Gelfling ears. The group agreed that the figure had looked nothing like a Skeksis, a plus in all of their books, except for being a good deal taller than a Gelfling.

Brea had wanted to see one during the day so she could sketch it in her journal. Everyone else had swiftly shot her down, even though Kylan wanted an opportunity to observe one and record his findings for others. The young princess had pouted for a while, but her attention had been diverted by the surroundings soon enough.

Kylan was tired, but his keen eyes took in everything with as much curiosity as they had when he first awoke in this place. He was faithfully following the others, Brea leading the way. The song teller could see her sister had an issue with this, but was holding herself back. Perhaps she was holding back a bit too much as she’d started lagging behind more and more throughout the night. He had gradually slowed his own pace to keep just in front of her so they wouldn’t lose her. Brea hadn’t noticed her sister flagging and the Drenchen siblings seemed too focused on looking out for threats, so it fell to him. She’d given him an unsure but grateful smile at some point, so he was glad his efforts were appreciated at least.

By the time the sun had crested the horizon, even Brea had noticeably slowed. They’d continued to move slowly, trying to keep out of sight as much as they could, on the lookout for a place to stop and rest for a few hours. The buildings had begun to thin out, the patches of grass between them becoming more and more expansive.

Kylan could only guess that they were now at the outskirts of the...village? He fervently hoped they could find a safe place nearby, and soon, before they all fell over and passed out wherever they crashed. Preferably far away from the large shiny creatures, too. He had no desire to end up trampled to death or eaten.

The road the group was following had morphed into something a little thinner, with the edges petering out to mingle directly with the earth on either side instead of being bordered. A dirt road, outlined by trees, split off from the black road at a right angle. Brea had stopped here, swiftly followed by the others, and was gazing down the road’s length as if it would reveal what lay along the path and at its end.

“Should we stick to the black road or try this one?” the young Vapran asked.

“It looks like a long trip either way,” Gurjin commented, peering back and forth between the roads.

Naia was appraising the amount of foliage she could see down either way. “If those creatures only travel on the black roads then we may be safer trying to rest just off this one.”

“But we don’t know if they do or not,” Kylan said as he came to a stop near the Drenchen girl.

Seladon, ambling slowly to join them, gave a tired sigh. “I’m not sure it matters at this point. We need to rest. We can’t just keep going and going, so I think the risk is worth it if we can find a decent spot among the trees so we can’t be seen by anyone or anything going by,” she said, her tone laced with tiredness, but holding a reasonable amount of authority despite that.

Kylan found himself agreeing before he really thought about it. That small thing drove home how truly tired they all were, and it looked like the others felt the same way. Naia went first and started scouting behind some trees as the others dawdled behind. It felt like an unum passed before Naia’s voice rang out, a tired but pleased shout.

The group found her a short distance from the road, her hand waving from between the greenery. They followed the beckoning appendage to a small clearing ringed by trees and shrubbery. It was the most secure, hidden spot they had seen so far, or might see for some time, so it was a welcome sight.

They all crowded in and lay down, one by one. Gurjin and Naia lay close, with Kylan on Naia’s other side. Brea squished in on Kylan’s free side with Seladon huddling as close to her back as she could, so there was some amount of space left between the All-Maudra and Gurjin.

The leaves rustled, the entire hidden spot covered in shade, blocking out a lot of the early morning light. It took but moments for the pull of slumber to claim the weary travellers now that they had stopped. Setting up a watch may have passed through the minds of some, but it never had a chance to be voiced before soft snores and gentle breathing filled the air.

Rian hadn’t covered as much ground as the others, moving slowly from soreness as he was. It frustrated him greatly and he’d spent several minutes solidly cursing in ever more creative ways. He was glad no one had been around to hear him, but it hadn’t taken long for that wish to dissipate. The only other living things he’d encountered so far had been some birds that started making noise as the sky shed its dark cloak.

The former guard had left the strange meadow behind, with its oversized stone flora, to find more fields. He could make out a building here and there, but this new landscape was dominated by a massive building on top of a hill. It wasn’t as big as the Crystal Castle, or as decorated, but it was somehow just as imposing.

It had an aura of neglect around it, further enhanced by the way nature was trying to reclaim the building however it could, even though the gardens around it looked surprisingly well kept in comparison. Perhaps someone had lived here until recently. Or they still were, but were unable to keep up any maintenance any longer. Parts of the building were crumbling, with a few holes here and there, along with a smashed window or two between a few that were boarded up.

The whole structure seemed sad, but it had a darker feel to it. Like something bad had happened there and it made Rian reluctant to venture closer. But it seemed like the kind of place those figures in the black cloaks might be, so Rian squared his shoulders and slunk towards it. His ears were perked up and forward, alert to catch any sound they could, otherwise he was sure they’d be pinned back near his skull just from the cold, stale air of this place that smelled like death and decay.

He found a small hole in a wall, close to the ground, and just managed to wriggle through it, although his hair got caught a few times. His long locks looked rather worse for wear at this point, but now was not the time or place to worry about looks. The Stonewood carefully stood up, wincing as his ribs protested against all the extra movement.

The interior was dark and dank. The stench of decay was much stronger inside, seeming to seep from the very walls themselves. It may have once been quite a grandiose place, but the thick layers of dust obscured enough features that it was hard to tell. It was like walking in the unused parts of the Crystal Castle on patrol, just far dustier. Rian sneezed violently, immediately clapping his hands over his nose and mouth. His heart pounded as he prayed that no one had heard him except any harmless little crawlies that may be about.

There was only silence. No shouts of alarm or noises of curiosity, no sounds to indicate anything decently big was headed his way.

Rian lowered his hands, but kept his left sleeve over his nose to keep the dust from making him sneeze again. He stepped forward lightly, sending puffs of dust into the air with each footfall. The soldier frowned, knowing it would be ridiculously easy to see where he’d entered and to follow him at any point. Now his ears did move back as an intense feeling washed over him. It was dark and malevolent and it made him picture a poisonous green colour. There was clearly an energy here and it did not feel friendly. He forced himself to continue. Deet may be here. He would find her.

The building really was large. Rian certainly wouldn’t call it a house, it was much too big and grand for that. He’d have to remember to ask Brea what the All-Maudra’s palace in Ha’rar was like to see if this came close. His ears lowered as he thought of his royal friend and all of the others that had been called upon to join his quest - and save Thra. The Stonewood’s quest for justice had grown bigger than he imagined, with roots that ran far deeper than he would have thought.

The Gelfling carefully peeked into all the rooms he could, testing the doors first. Some were locked, but he heard nothing behind them and didn’t think the noise of forcing them open would be worth whatever may be behind them. An open doorway revealed a large kitchen, reminding him of the one at the Castle. It was the domain of skekAyuk the Gourmand, plus whatever Podlings the greedy lord had working there. He wondered what skekAyuk would make of this kitchen since it was far too large for any Podling to get anything done.

Straight up the hallway from the kitchen, the hall ended in a much cosier room than he’d come to expect. The warrior stood in the doorway and frowned, ears flicking as he looked about. There was very little dust in this room, although the fireplace was full of ashes and even a couple of half-burnt logs. There was a rug on the floor, partly snagged by the leg of a big, comfortable looking chair that looked very padded. The room lacked any personal effects and Rian stepped forward, hoping this more cared for room would tell him something.

As his foot touched down it was like a dreamfast. Thin, high laughter, cruel and mocking. A strange hissing noise. A bright flash of green - the same poisonous shade he’d got the feeling of earlier. He yanked his foot back, breathing hard. It had only lasted a few seconds, but he felt like he’d just gone a few more rounds with the Skeksis at Stone-in-the-Wood. He backed away from the deceptively cosy room.

After checking everything on that floor, Rian gulped and put a foot on the staircase. It creaked loudly and he froze, making sure his weight was resting mostly on his back foot that was safely on the floor.

After nothing happened, he was starting to feel paranoid. What if this really was a big, old, empty building and he was just being silly, despite the strange vision in the cosy room? He couldn’t shake the bad feeling off though. Rian grit his teeth and ascended the stairs, trying his utmost to ignore the racket he was causing. He stuck close to the wall, occasionally using it to help propel him upwards. These stairs were far too big to be Gelfling sized and going up them was proving to be quite a chore.

Although the stairs went higher, he got off on the second floor, where he repeated the process of careful exploration. This floor was in worse condition and he had to skirt a few unsafe patches where the wood had rotted and wouldn’t hold his weight, or had become a hole already, letting him see his own tracks in the dust below.

He encountered more bed chambers and bathing places on this floor than had been below, but nothing useful. There was a thick line in the dust here and there, like something big had slithered around or been dragged, unresisting. He finished his round of the second floor and made his way back to the stairs, looking up speculatively. Although they did go further up, he wondered if navigating them was worth it. Despite the creepy feeling in the air, this really did appear to be nothing more than a derelict, empty house.

Rian strained his ears, but could not hear anything from upstairs. With a sigh he made his way back down, intent on leaving this place. He was disappointed not to have found Deet, or even one of the cloaked figures that had taken her, in this place. That would be too easy, he thought with a snort.

With both hands on the wall, his nose was now exposed to the dust floating around. It was a minor miracle that he’d gotten up the stairs without incident. Rian’s luck had run out though. His nose tickled and, before he could throw his sleeve over his face, he sneezed. The sound echoed throughout the building, quickly followed by a creak and a snap.

Before he could even open his eyes after the sneeze, Rian felt the step he was on give way, plunging him into the darkness with a yelp.

Chapter Text

Rian wasn’t sure how long he’d been out for, but he guessed it wasn’t long as he awoke coughing and spluttering from all the dust still in the air. He sat up, his ribs twinging with pain at every cough. He wrapped one arm around his battered chest while he coughed into his other hand, trying to filter the dust out.

The dust settled, as did his coughing fit, after what felt like an eternity. Tears were leaking from the corners of his eyes and he took a moment to wipe the tears, and the tracks they’d left down his face, away.

Rian looked up, easily finding the newly created hole he’d fallen through. The stairs had been in worse shape than he’d thought; he regretted setting foot in this place, but it was a chance he’d had to take. Only a small amount of dim light came through the hole, leaving him in near pitch black. He strained his eyes but couldn’t make out anything around him. Not surprising though, the house itself hadn’t been well lit at all with many of the windows boarded up.

He shuffled to his knees and shakily stood up, only to almost topple straight back over. “Yesmit!” he hissed out between clenched teeth, flinging an arm out and catching himself on a wall. Rian raised his right foot off the ground, gingerly testing his weight on it. A flare of pain shot up his leg and he left it raised, hoping it wasn’t broken. He needed to get out of here, out of this crumbling building, and into the fresh air and sunlight.

The Stonewood could clearly feel one wall with his right hand - the one he'd flung out - but when he extended his left arm he met only air. Rian blinked, but the darkness remained impenetrable. Dare he chance hopping over there to check for a way out? He bit his lip and took his hand off the wall slowly, carefully turning to aim away from it. He wobbled, both arms stretching out for balance instinctively.

Hopping awkwardly in the dark was an experience Rian never wanted to repeat. His foot hit something and he almost went over, flailing wildly to keep upright. It shifted easily and he guessed it was debris from the step that caved under him. He hopped onwards, but didn’t get very far before his outstretched fingers brushed against a wall.

Rian frowned, feeling boxed in. There was no way he could reach the hole he’d fallen through. His ears perked up as he hopped away from the wall he’d found. After several moments his questing hands reached the underside of the stairs and a determined grimace appeared on his face. He ran his fingers over the edges to figure out what part was where, then he took a deep breath, ignoring the spike of pain from his bruised chest.

The Gelfling curled his fingers into a fist and struck the dark. He hit wood and heard it protest. He shook his hand out and then repeated his actions. Several strikes later, the board was fairly splintered and he could see dim light through a number of cracks. Rian kept at it, his entire left hand aching, until the board broke entirely and he pushed the pieces out of the way.

It wasn’t quite wide enough for him to fit through, so he turned his focus onto the board above the one he’d destroyed. He pushed, and hit, grunting with effort, until the board was half prised free and half broken. With freedom now at hand, Rian hobbled over and clambered up and out of the space he’d created, partly falling down the few steps left on the other side.

He huffed, heading to the hallway with the hole he’d entered from. It was easy to find due to all the dust and he grit his teeth and crawled back through, trying not to use his right foot. The sun was now fully clear of the horizon and it was quite bright outside, forcing Rian to throw an arm over his face to shield his eyes as he used the wall to get his feet under him. A few blinks later and he dropped his arm. His eyes followed the movement and widened.

There was a large sliver of wood embedded in the side of his left hand, a good two inches visible. It was the most impressive splinter he’d ever seen and Rian wondered why he hadn’t felt it. He pulled his arm across his chest and grabbed the splinter with his right hand, sucking in a quick breath and yanking it out as fast as he could. Drops of bright red blood, tinted with a dark pink, dripped steadily from his hand and he threw away the piece of wood after a brief inspection. It had only gone in about a thumb-width and he hoped nothing important inside his hand had been hit.

Rian curled his left forearm and held the side of his hand against his stomach in an effort to stop the bleeding. His clothes were already dirty and he had nothing to wrap the wound with. He sighed and looked around. The place didn’t look or feel any better in the daylight and the soldier had no wish to stick around. But where would he go? He could feel sleep pulling at him; an insistent tug that was growing more forceful now that he was outside and the adrenaline was fading.

The young Gelfling tried putting his right foot back down, but was quickly dissuaded. He wasn’t going to get far hopping along on one leg. There was a somewhat scraggly bush a few feet away and Rian guessed it was better than nothing. He certainly wasn’t going back inside, so he slowly made his way to the bush and fell to his knees heavily, leaning to one side and lying down quickly. He fidgeted slightly, trying to find a comfier position for his various aches. Several seconds later his breathing evened out as his body gave in to the rest it needed.

Barely ten minutes later, two police officers, a man and a woman, started up the hill towards the old building. They were responding to several calls of a ruckus some time last night and had headed straight for the area the hoodlums liked to hang out and cause mischief at. When they reached the front door they found it locked, as usual. With an exasperated sigh and well-practiced patience, the two split up to circle the manor, checking everywhere along the way for signs that anyone had been here recently.

Officer Mark Gillan hated the old Riddle House. So many kids would come here to smoke or vandalise the place. They used to taunt old Frank, the gardener, too. No one had seen Frank for months, though that hadn’t stopped the kids from messing around. Mark furrowed his brow as he walked, catching sight of a dark lump behind a rather pathetic bush. He hoped the kids weren’t stashing things here again, he didn’t like talking to their parents. They always insisted their babies could never do such a thing and surely he was mistaken and how dare he accuse them and so on, so forth.

They’d probably wrapped up a stash of cigarettes or something in an old coat or blanket. Mark reached out and pushed most of the bush aside. He let it go and jumped back a second later. After a moment to collect himself, Mark tapped his radio. “Hey, Beth, I got something here you need to see.”

The radio crackled to life shortly after. “On my way,” replied Beth.

The sun was high in the sky, almost at its zenith, when Naia awoke. The sun was hard to see through all the leaves that kept their resting place well shaded, but it was significantly lighter than when they’d lain down. She sat up, accidentally jostling her brother, and he made a tiny sound of protest. She rolled her eyes and carefully extricated herself from the pile of snoozing Gelfling.

Her gaze fell on Seladon and the Drenchen was amused to see that the older Gelfling girl had no air of royalty about her as she slept. Naia padded softly out of the tiny clearing and peered through the foliage at the dirt road. There was nothing there, but she could clearly hear something coming from the direction of the black road. More of those large creatures must be up and about.

If they were mostly diurnal then their party would have to travel at night if they wanted to err on the side of caution. That would present a problem as landscapes tended to look different during the day than they did at night, when many details were blurry or not even visible. While they would be harder to spot, they, in turn, would have a harder time seeing any potential friend or foe nearby. Deet would have no trouble with her Grottan vision if she came across them, but Rian would be difficult to see with his dark hair and clothes that blended into the forest’s shadows.

The group would need to discuss what to do and where to go from here. They could afford to wait though, their spot was still safe enough during the day it seemed. Naia crept back to the others and sat down at the edge of the clearing, leaning against a tree. She was too awake to doze back off and it felt like a good idea for someone to stand guard anyway, so she waited for the others to stir.

It didn’t take long before Brea began moving, stretching her arms out a short way and smacking Seladon in the back of the head. The All-Maudra, rudely awakened, muttered a noise of pain and swung her head around to find the culprit. Brea caught her eyes, both Vapra with similar golden hues, and smiled sheepishly, offering a soft apology. Both siblings sat up and looked around, Brea gazing fondly at the others still asleep. They both saw Naia watching them with an amused grin on her face and both knew she’d seen the whole thing.

Seladon cleared her throat and stood hastily, brushing some lingering dirt and leaves from her hair and clothes. She walked over to the Drenchen and sat down, Brea swiftly following. “Good...day?” she said awkwardly, trying to squint through the leaves at the sky.

“Good day,” Naia casually repeated with a short nod.

Brea yawned, belatedly covering her mouth. “Did you sleep? How long have you been awake?”

“I slept. I only got up a short time before you did, long enough to have a quick look around just outside this clearing.”

Seladon frowned, casting a quick glance in the direction of the dirt road. “What did you find?”

Naia only shook her head and gestured at the two boys still snoozing. “Let’s wait for everyone to wake up so I don’t have to repeat myself and we can start planning straight away.”

The older Vapran did not like things being kept from her. Her knee-jerk response was to demand that the Drenchen tell her everything now and the others could be caught up later as it was their own fault for sleeping through it. She kept her mouth firmly closed though; she was no spoiled childling and had to prove as much, to be better than she was before. Her relationship with the rest of the group was rather tenuous and she couldn’t afford to jeopardise it. She still wanted to prod the others awake, petty as the action would be.

The chatter, though quiet, roused Kylan from slumber and he heaved himself onto his elbows, blinking blearily and looking as though he’d fall asleep again at any moment. “Uh...it was morning when we went to bed… So, is it night yet?” he asked slowly, his voice heavy with sleep.

“No, it isn’t night,” Naia answered, enjoying Kylan’s sleep fog. “It’s the brightest part of the day as far as I can tell.”

“Has anyone got breakfast?” asked Gurjin, rolling over to face them all. He frowned, looking resigned when he saw no sign of food among them. It was an expected result, but he’d been hopeful all the same. If they were going to discuss things, and he knew they would, he recognised that stern look on his sister’s face, then he wanted to bring up food supplies. As far as Gurjin knew, none of them had eaten a single thing since appearing here. Or had anything to drink for that matter.

“Now that everyone’s awake, I’ll tell you the little information I gathered as I was the first up,” Naia said, commanding their attention after seeing the impatient look Seladon had been sporting.

“We’re listening,” Kylan said, sitting up properly.

Naia nodded. “The one sun I could see is at its zenith now. The dirt road is quiet, but I heard a few of those large creatures in the direction of the black road. I think they are active during the day.”

“But that place where all those creatures were was where we all woke up, right?” Brea asked, almost frantic. “Then shouldn’t the others have appeared there too? We have to go back and look for them!”

“That would be like walking straight into the beasts’ lair when they’re all fully awake and aware of intruders,” Seladon immediately argued back.

Kylan tilted his head and tapped a finger on his chin. “Should we wait until it’s night and go then? Most of them will be asleep and we already know we can sneak past them.”

Gurjin shook his head, now also sitting up and leaning with his back to a tree. “And do what in the meantime? We need food and water. We can’t go much longer without water first.”

“Perhaps...perhaps I could fly up and look for a river or something?” Brea offered, her mouth feeling very dry after the mention of water.

“I could go as well,” Seladon said, looking as though the admission pained her. “But what about the creatures? What if they spot us? They’re very fast and we can’t fly forever,” she said sternly, her mind flashing to the one that had come barreling at her little sister.

“Maybe they do stick to the black roads,” Gurjin wondered aloud. “You’d be safe then.”

Kylan absently brushed off his clothes. “We don’t know if they do or not. I’m pretty sure it was mentioned last night. Even if they do, what if they alert those things that live in the buildings like the one that chased us off?”

“It didn’t look like it had wings,” Brea said somewhat sulkily.

“It also sounded male,” Naia stated. “They may be like us and the females might have wings.”

Kylan shook his head gently and raised his hands peacefully. “Again, it comes down to the fact that we don’t have enough information to really make any solid plans.”

Gurjin groaned, long and loud, to show his frustration. “We’ll never get anywhere if we don’t take some risks!”

“He’s right,” Naia said, thinking back to the night she dreamfasted with someone reported to be sick. If she hadn’t taken that risk and learned the truth, she would’ve made a terrible mistake. “I think both Vapra should go. One to scout for water, and possibly food, while the other keeps watch for danger.”

Seladon’s eyes gleamed. “Yes, this sounds like a feasible plan. I will keep watch.”

“Great!” Brea exclaimed happily, her earlier sulkiness vanished like a puff of smoke in the wind. “We’ll need somewhere with a bit more space. Mind giving us a boost?” she asked the boys.

Gurjin just nodded while Kylan said, “Sure,” in an uncertain tone.

The group left the tiny clearing and walked out into the field, still mostly hidden from both roads by trees. The boys knelt down and squared their shoulders. The All-Maudra and her sister raced forward, jumping onto their exposed backs and using them like a springboard to leap into the air. They quickly unfurled their wings and flapped, getting a feel for the wind conditions.

Brea barely resisted the urge to whoop and laugh, but her now grumbling stomach reminded her that this was work, not play. She rose high enough to see a fair distance and began scouting. Her eyes peeled back and forth as she fluttered to and fro, trusting her eldest sister to watch her back. It was a strange feeling and the trust was fragile, but it was there.

Seladon merely hovered for a few moments, looking all around. She could see the black road through the trees that bordered it and saw a handful of large creatures passing each other on it. Some were headed for the village, some were headed away, but none veered from the road. She made sure to turn constantly, keeping a lookout in all directions, and slowly followed her sister so she wouldn’t lose sight of her. She also made a note of the general direction Brea was heading and the way back to the others.

In the distance was a dark winding line with bright shimmers reflecting all along its length. Brea grinned in excitement and raced off, heading off to what she really hoped was a river. She was barely aware of Seladon some distance behind her. Once there she swooped down to have a look, flapping hard to stay in one spot in a messy hover. The princess dipped her fingers in, pleased that the water was cold and clear, and scooped up a quick mouthful. It didn’t taste tainted so she flew back up to Seladon and pointed back towards the others. They were barely visible specks among the grass from this height and distance and it made Brea more confident that they wouldn’t be easy to spot.

The two returned to the others and Brea gleefully gestured towards the river. “There’s a nice river, clean and beautiful, not far over that way.”

“Excellent,” said Naia with a nod. “Maybe there’s fish in it. Let’s go.”

No one was going to argue with that command, so they walked off through the grassy fields.

Chapter Text

The room was fairly nondescript, with only sparse furniture and no personal touches. The furniture that was present consisted of a large wooden desk, with carvings around the edges, and a nicely carved chair to match, the seat and backrest looking like something out of an old Victorian era house. The walls were a light stone colour, with only the door and one window to break the monotony. The window was shut with heavy curtains pulled closed over it, blocking out any possible light that may wish to shine through.

The room didn’t interest him at all, it was the thing on the desk that caught his attention and he walked closer to inspect it, mostly ignoring the two figures in black cloaks that were bowing off to one side.

“This is the source of the dark power?” he asked, voice even and not letting any interest seep through.

“Yes, my lord. I found it right beside the gravestone you bound the Potter boy to during your glorious return,” one of the cloaked figures answered.

“You can see some sort of power within it, my lord. The thing looks rather sickly,” said the other figure.

He was pleased and intrigued by these answers, coming to a stop right in front of the desk and leaning over slightly. Lying there in a haphazard pile was a creature that vaguely resembled a house-elf. It had a human-like nose, though it was flatter, set farther down the face with the mouth and chin. Its eyes were large and half-lidded, showing off huge black pupils ringed and veined by a deep violet that seemed to glow. Violet glowing veins could be seen on every patch of visible skin, which was a light, earthy green tone that blended into a dusky peach here and there.

The ears, protruding through a mane of long platinum hair streaked with light green, were long and flared out before tapering to a rounded tip. Its hands possessed only three fingers and a thumb each, more squared and thicker than a house-elf’s. The thing was wearing a strange dress made out of some material he couldn’t identify, but the dress, and the creature, were both filthy.

He snapped his fingers in front of its face, eliciting a flick of an ear. He clicked again. Another ear flick, this time accompanied by the slow movement of its eyes zeroing in on his fingers. He could almost feel the power this creature contained within and he wanted to know what it could do; if he could take it for himself.

It stirred sluggishly, turning that vivid yet hollow gaze to his face. The glow seemed to throb subtly, like a heartbeat, but nothing happened. It made no noise, just stared.

He stared back, utilising a brush of Legilimency to see if he could skim whatever pathetic attempt at thoughts this creature could call upon. Their gazes locked and the mind magic was woven.

The intruder saw violet light, crackling and spitting all around. He waved it aside as best he could and saw several scenes flash by. Another creature like this one, with far less green skin and darker hair, stood there proudly bearing aloft a sword with two blades. Caves, deep underground, dotted all over with glowing moss. A creature resembling an acromantula, hissing and spitting. Another weird creature, this one resembling a gnome with clothes and hair, wielding a spoon like a sword or a wand. A battlefield, crackling with glowing purple lightning, the force being directed at overdressed vultures with no feathers. The lightning struck one and, moments later, the thing exploded, the other vultures crying out in horror and dismay.

Yes, he thought, this was indeed a formidable power. He would find a way to make it his. If he couldn't, he would enslave the creature and force it to do his bidding. He broke eye contact and stood tall and straight.

The creature gasped, the eyes clear of the violet. The iris was now a deep amber so dark it looked brown. "No, no, you can't!" it said in a trembling feminine voice. The words were distorted, like listening to a badly tuned radio, but they were understandable.

"There is nothing I cannot do," he replied silkily.

The violet reappeared in its eyes and the face went vacant once more. Obviously the force had a tight grip on the puny thing. It was probably too much for it to handle. But he was not so weak.

"Avery, Nott, you have done well this night. Leave us," he commanded.

They both bowed deeper and hastily departed, leaving him with his new experiment. Lord Voldemort laughed.

An unknown number of kilometres away, Harry Potter sat up, brow soaked with sweat and panting, his scar burning in pain. It was still dark and he had no clock. His watch had broken during the Triwizard Tournament and he hadn’t had the chance to get a new one yet. His mind turned to the dream or vision or whatever it was he just experienced.

Voldemort had a new creature he intended to use as a weapon. As if he wasn't bad enough by himself! Harry's next thought was that Hermione was going to have kittens over the blatant elf abuse. House-elf or not, it certainly looked like some kind of elf. Maybe he could just tell Hermione and let her loose on Voldemort. She'd destroy him in a fit of righteous fury, the wizarding world would be safe and might even stop treating him like a celebrity.

He sighed. It was a nice daydream and he'd revisit it during some rougher moments. He should tell Dumbledore of this dream. It had been eerily like the one where he saw that old muggle man murdered, so he just knew it was more than a dream. If he told Dumbledore, he could be on the lookout for the creature and maybe rescue it. If the headmaster was even doing anything against Voldemort, considering he’d seen and heard nothing from any news source about suspicious deaths.

Harry debated whether or not to owl his two best friends and his godfather, Sirius. He was none too pleased with all three at the moment as the only letters he’d received from them contained little more than a greeting, warnings about owl communications being intercepted so don’t write sensitive information, and reminders to stay put and keep his head down. It was beyond frustrating and Harry was ready to start throwing things at the walls.

He took a deep breath and sighed gustily. Even if he did tell them, what could they possibly do about it? Not that he could anyway. Harry was sure news of Voldemort getting his hands on a dangerous creature was considered very sensitive information. He could try and write it in code, but how could he be sure the reader would understand? If he made it too generic, anyone that might intercept it could figure it out too.

The morning light interrupted Harry’s thoughts and he wondered how long he’d been lying there awake. He still hadn’t decided what to do, either. He felt bad for that elf girl. Harry was all too familiar with the unpleasant reality of being at the mercy of Lord Voldemort and didn’t wish that fate upon anyone that hadn’t entered his service willingly. His mind flashed to Lucius Malfoy and Peter Pettigrew in particular - as far as Harry was concerned, those two got whatever was coming to them. It may be petty and vindictive at the very least, but Harry did not have much room for forgiveness in him at the moment.

Harry frowned and slowly dragged himself out of bed towards the desk he kept some ink and parchment on. He sat down in the uncomfortable desk chair and pulled a sheet of parchment close, grabbing his quill and inking it in a now much familiar routine. He began writing, hesitating now and then with what to write and how to word it, making him extra careful not to drip ink everywhere.

To Dumbledore,

I saw someone acquire something and it made my head hurt, you know, when you get a headache in a certain spot? The headache is gone, but that something is not safe in that someone’s hands.

Harry Potter

He read it over and it felt woefully inadequate, but it was the best he could come up with on short notice without really giving anything away. Harry sincerely hoped Dumbledore understood that he was talking about a vision because his scar hurt. He was supposed to be getting out of here soon, to wherever the others were staying, and he wondered if sending a letter would end up being redundant if he could see them in person. Then again, there was no way to tell if he’d see Dumbledore at all before school started - if he wasn’t expelled during the upcoming hearing to start with.

He thought about writing to Hermione, to ask her if there were various elf species or just house-elves, but that felt like sensitive information Death Eaters would definitely catch on to. Besides, he would be able to ask her in person if he really was leaving soon and it would be far safer.

Harry’s mind conjured up the image of the green elf girl, her big dark eyes pleading and on the verge of tears. The Boy-Who-Lived wished he knew her name at least. He wanted to know where that room was, get someone out there, catch the Death Eaters and perhaps even Voldemort himself! Then they could take her away and let her go.

The teenage boy’s cynical mind knew that was a pipe dream. The right people would have to find her if she was going to be let go. Otherwise she’d only end up trading one master for another and someone else would use her as a weapon. For a moment Harry hated magical society with every fibre of his being. He’d hoped for better things when Hagrid took him from the Dursleys to get his school things after he turned eleven, but the shiny new world he’d escaped into had proven to be just as bad, if not magnitudes worse, than his dreary muggle existence with his relatives.

The letter was now dry and Harry wasted no time in folding it, writing who it was for on the front and turning to Hedwig. The owl had been silently watching her wizard for a while, her bright yellow eyes full of concern. She hopped over and held out her leg, patiently waiting as Harry attached the letter.

“I’m not sure what Dumbledore will make of it, but at least I can say I’ve done what I can for now,” he said softly, stroking her feathers and watching wistfully as she flew out of the window and off into the sky. Hopefully it was still too early for the Dursleys to be up yet and none of them had seen Hedwig fly off when it was no longer night and normal time for owls to be active.

Not for the first time, Harry wished he was a bird and could fly away anytime he pleased and go wherever he wanted, away from human squabbles, both muggle and magical.

There was chatter all around. Some of it was soft, muttered to the person standing right beside the speaker. Some of it was louder as voices full of argument, disbelief and even fear flew back and forth through the air.

Only the barest hint of it could be heard within the room. One wall was almost entirely taken up by a large mirror, which many knew to be two-sided. The normal table and chairs that sat in the centre of the room had been removed, leaving the three people inside with no furniture. Officer Mark Gillan was standing near one corner, but close enough to see everything the other person was doing.

Doctor Rosemary Woods, Rose for short, was kneeling on a pillow, cautiously and carefully examining the patient the police had called her about. The patient was lying on their back on a folded over blanket, one edge folded over a little further into a very thin makeshift pillow. It had taken her a while to calm down and act professionally enough to do her job after seeing the patient.

At first she’d thought it was a child as it was about three feet tall. But then she’d looked closer. The face was wrong - it was very human-like but the nose bridge was elongated, with the nose and mouth set further down near the chin. The lower half of the face was also extruded and gave off a vague snout-like feeling. The ears were long and tapered to a rounded point, though the body was otherwise perfectly proportioned as were the clothes.

The long hair was messy, desperately in need of a good brush and a wash. The clothes needed a wash too, they were absolutely filthy. They were covered head to toe in dust, the odd bit of grass and a couple of leaves. The shirt had a bloodstain on the abdominal area, which meant the patient had an open wound somewhere. Her eyes scoured over the small form, noting some dried blood on a cheek, and alighted upon the hand closest to her, which happened to be the left. A fair amount of blood was caked on the appendage and the doctor concluded that it was the source of the stain.

Doctor Woods didn’t know what to make of the strange little elfin patient she now had on her hands, but she still had a job to do. She quietly asked for some water, warm if they could manage, along with some soft cloth. They were delivered to the interrogation room promptly and she set them down beside her. She took a deep breath and dipped the cloth in the water, which was about room temperature, and gently lifted the patient’s left hand. There was green colouration on the skin coming from under the sleeve and she hoped it was nothing to worry about. Rose carefully started cleaning the area of all the dirt and blood that was caked on it, turning the water a dusty pink as she rinsed the cloth.

The patient’s fingers twitched in her hand and she saw Officer Gillan tense up and step closer from the corner of her eye. The little figure gave a groan and shifted slightly, a wince of pain crossing the pointed face. Their forehead furrowed under their thick fringe of hair and their eyes slowly opened as everyone else held their breaths.

Rian’s vision was slow to focus and he squinted. All he could see was an off-white colour to the sides and above, making his hazy mind tick over in confusion. Where was the bush? The big building? The sky?

His brain registered a touch on his left hand and wrist. He thought perhaps he’d gotten tangled in the bush, so he weakly tugged his arm back towards himself. His hand didn’t budge and the grip around it tightened. It was not enough to hurt, but it was enough to send alarm bells ringing.

The Stonewood focused his gaze on his trapped hand and saw another hand gripping it. The hand was attached to an arm covered in a soft looking, light blue sleeve. His eyes roamed further, following the arm to the large figure kneeling beside him. It looked vaguely Gelfling, but many features were off, and it was staring right at him.

Rian was not where he’d fallen asleep. He had been so exhausted that he hadn’t even woken up when captured. Now he was in an unknown building with strange beings. On top of that he was injured and in no fit state to make a break for it.

The Gelfling panicked, tugging on his arm furiously and letting out a wordless shout as he sat up quickly and scrambled away from the two figures in the room. He didn’t get far as his right ankle was moved and instantly reminded him that moving it was an incredibly painful idea. He immediately gripped his ankle with his free hand and froze, hunched over with teeth and eyes clenched shut tightly.

His ears were fully pinned back and rarely had he ever felt so vulnerable. He was breathing hard, unable to hear anything over the fast and loud pounding of his heart. The pressure on his injured hand and wrist lightened slightly and he could only just hear a female voice trying to soothe him.

Rian’s ears flicked forward minutely, trying to focus on the voice over the pounding. It was all a meaningless jumble of noises in a soothing tone and it was hard to try and understand, so he turned his attention to the physical sensation of touch. It anchored him in a way the voice never could and he twisted his wrist a little, feeling the grip stay steady and rotate to match.

His breathing steadied slightly and he unclenched his teeth as his jaw was beginning to ache something fierce. Rian opened his eyes halfway, peeking at the large, pale hand through his messy curtain of hair. He forced his gaze upward, to get a proper look at the being that had a hold of him. His bright blue eyes, a thin ring of golden yellow around the pupil, met the blue-grey eyes of a strange face framed by auburn hair.

The former castle guard could see their lips moving, proving where the soothing voice was coming from. Rian thought this must be a female as he briefly glanced at the other one in the room and noted the different features. His ears cautiously came forward as he tried to make out what she was saying.

“That’s it, slower, deeper breaths. Keep your eyes on me, you’re doing great. Are you back with us yet? Just stay calm and steady, that’s good. Can you hear me?” Rose was repeating, waiting for some flicker of recognition of her words. She gently moved her thumb along his sleeve in a tiny caress.

Rian’s head tilted a bit to one side in confusion. He could hear her clearly now, but she was speaking a language he’d never heard before. It was not Skeksis, neither was it the Podling or Gelfling tongue. Her thumb movement made him look at her hand again, still wrapped around his limb and covering quite a lot of it. If she had the desire, this being could easily break his arm. Even though she hadn’t done anything bad yet, it didn’t mean she couldn’t turn on him at any moment, just like the Skeksis. Experience was a painful teacher and he was determined to learn.

Doctor Woods smiled as she saw her patient acknowledge her movement. That meant the little being was cognizant and no longer in the grip of pure terror. “There you are. I’m Rose, can you tell me your name?”

She saw him look her in the eyes again, and she loved those eyes already, they were breathtaking, but they held only confusion in their depths. The simple approach then. Rose lifted her free hand and pointed at herself. “Rose,” she said slowly and clearly before gesturing at Rian and waiting. After a few seconds of silence she repeated the whole thing.

The Gelfling tossed the word around in his mind. Was it the female creature’s race or name? Time for a test, he decided as he pointed at the looming police officer behind her.

Rose was impressed despite herself when the elfin creature pointed as it was a distinctly human behaviour. She glanced back to see poor Officer Gillan looking like a deer caught in headlights. Her smile widened and she said, “Mark,” just as slowly and clearly as she had her own.

Rian guessed they were names then and wondered if giving his own was safe. Although if they were anywhere on Thra, they may have seen him in the blue fire so hiding his identity was a moot point. He let go of his ankle, the pain of which had dimmed to a persistent throb, and pointed at himself. “Rian,” he spoke, in the same manner she had employed.

Although no one in the interrogation room could hear it, an outbreak of furiously hushed conversation had filled the room behind the two way mirror. A humanoid creature that had the ability to understand and speak! The word ‘alien’ was being tossed around along with discussions on what to do with such an amazing find. They could be rich!

Chapter Text

The river was incredibly refreshing. The water was sweet, clear and cold, just as Brea said. After quenching her thirst, Naia pulled off her shoes and her outer layer of clothing, revealing black iridescent wings, shining with blue and fuchsia hues where the light struck them. She waded fearlessly into the river and breathed deeply, enjoying the feeling of being immersed in water in any capacity.

Gurjin was following her example, a little further up. The twins exchanged playful grins and dived at the same time, popping up in the middle of the river moments later.

“Let’s see what we can find, yeah?” he called out.

“I’ll find something first,” she called back.

Gurjin took this as a challenge. He immediately dived back under, becoming lost to sight by everyone still on the bank, despite the water’s clearness. Naia rolled her eyes but grinned, slipping underwater as well to try and find something that looked edible. She was sure Kylan would cook whatever she caught as he knew to trust a Drenchen’s gut.

The water was easy to see through and the riverbed was made up of many rocks, forming a barrier over the soil below she discovered after prising one loose. She returned the rock and swept away the watery dust cloud, peering around for anything that wasn’t a rock.

A flash of something silvery caught her eye and she saw a shape with fins. Naia moved her wings, shooting forward like an arrow from a bow, and reached out. Her fingers caught the tail and she swiftly brought her other hand around to get a good grip on the body. It was slippery, but Naia had grown up in the Sog catching swimmers and kept a tight hold. She swam back to where the others were congregated on the bank and stood up in the shallows, holding her catch triumphantly in the air.

Kylan and Brea cheered while Seladon merely nodded, looking pleased.

“Are you sure we can eat that?” Kylan asked with a grin.

Naia raised a brow and smirked. “Don’t make me throw this at you, song teller!”

Kylan put his hands up and shrugged. “How am I supposed to cook it if I don’t have it?”

The female Drenchen scoffed and threw her catch, aiming at the Spriton’s face. Kylan made a startled noise and stepped back, putting his hands in front of his face on instinct. He had not grown up catching slimy, slippery, wriggly things in the swamp though, and the fish easily slipped out of his grasp. It flopped on his head before its flailing launched it right back into the air, scales shimmering in the sun.

Brea cried out and reached for it. She had even less experience than Kylan however, and ended up juggling the fish for a few moments before it escaped her grasp.

A wet smack noise was heard and Seladon shivered. She had clapped her hands together and trapped the fish between her fingers. It was not a pleasant feeling and she wanted to let it go, but was proud of herself for catching it at all.

“Well done, Seladon!” Brea said happily, giving her older sister a huge smile.

Seladon smiled back. Even though the fish felt absolutely disgusting, it was more than worth it. Her stomach agreed, gurgling with hunger she’d been trying her best to ignore.

Gurjin’s head appeared above the water with a shout, a fish clutched tightly in his grip. “Ha! Looks like I won!” he crowed.

Naia pointed smugly to Seladon, who was still holding out the fish for all to see. “Nope. Too slow.”

“Oh, come on!” he complained in a good-natured way, rolling his eyes in an exaggerated manner.

“Please don’t throw this one at me,” Kylan said blankly, eyeing the former castle guard.

“But you can’t cook it if you don’t have it,” Naia parroted in a mildly sing-song way, causing Kylan to glare at her and Brea to hastily stifle her giggles lest she offend their song teller friend.

Seladon cleared her throat, catching their attention. “I don’t suppose we could cook these any time soon?”

Gurjin swam to the bank and clambered out, watching the water run off his sister’s wings and feeling a tiny pang of jealousy at the increased swimming speed they lent her. “Right, a nice combination of lunch and breakfast sounds perfect. Back to the clearing, yeah?”

“Anyone not carrying food can help gather firewood,” the Spriton said suddenly. He caught Naia’s eye and she nodded, making him feel better about speaking up.

A noise came from the other side of the river. It was intermittent and growing louder, which meant it was heading their way. It sounded like the yapping of a fizzgig, but much deeper. In no time flat, a black and white lump was heading their way, running through the tall grass with ease. It stopped at the riverbank, barking wildly at them, tail wagging back and forth the entire time.

“We should be safe on this side, right?” Kylan asked.

“If it can’t swim, then yes,” replied Naia.

The creature whined a bit between barking, scurrying back and forth along a patch of the bank. Without warning it jumped in, slowly paddling across the river, mouth open while panting and giving the Gelfling a good look at its fangs, even as they all jumped back from the action.

“Gurjin, give me a boost!” Brea shouted.

He knelt down immediately and Brea jumped, launching herself into the air. She buzzed the creature in the river, catching its attention and making it turn to follow her.

“I’ll lead it away, lose it and circle back to meet you as soon as I can!” the princess called out, already flitting off, making sure it was following her.

There was no time to refute the plan so the others ran, heading back across the field to the tiny clearing. Naia grabbed her shed clothing on the way, scooping up her shoes as well and running barefoot beside her brother, who was also carrying his clothes and shoes. They all hoped Brea would return soon and the creature wouldn’t be able to track them later.

“Rian,” Rose repeated softly, inordinately pleased by the response. Her fear had almost entirely vanished in the face of what looked like some elfin child that seemed hopelessly lost. And injured too, more than just the wound she’d cleaned on its hand. It had sounded male, should she call it a he?

Rose mentally gave herself a little shake and finally let go of his wrist, moving that hand down to tap the air above his boot, exactly where he’d been clutching at it. “Are you hurt here?”

The Stonewood frowned again, watching her hand closely. “I don’t understand you,” he finally said, looking back at her face.

Her eyebrows went up. She had no idea what he’d said, but his language was quite musical and flow-y. “Oh dear, a language barrier...and no way to call for a translator for this one either.”

Mark shuffled from foot to foot. “Now what? You want me to hold it down while you look it over?”

“What? No! That is a last resort tactic only, you hear me?” Doctor Woods replied, trying to keep her voice even so she didn’t scare her patient further.

“Just askin’,” Mark sulked, taking a step back from the irate woman. Everyone knew about redheads and their tempers after all.

“I will call you if I need you,” she said, switching from kneeling to sitting with her legs bent in front of her, sliding the pillow out of the way as she did. “Rian,” she called gently, slowly taking her shoes off once she had his full attention. Rose set her shoes to one side and gestured at her patient.

The Gelfling was feeling very silly being treated like a tiny childling. Still, he was a captive and would have to go along with what they wanted. If it became unreasonable, the soldier was fully prepared to go down fighting. He tugged his left boot off and set it aside before grabbing his right boot. He tugged gently and instantly winced. He regretted it straight away, determined not to show any more weakness. He tugged harder, growling dire things under his breath as the boot came off in tiny increments. When at last his foot was liberated, he was sweating and shaking as he set it down next to the other. He mentally swore at the very obvious bruising and swelling around his ankle, knowing he’d been lucky to get his boot off at all without cutting it.

Doctor Woods winced in sympathy as she saw the damage. No wonder the poor little guy had been clutching it! “Get me some ice, or an ice pack if you have one, plus a tea towel or something.”

Mark moved to the door a couple of minutes later after a soft knock announced the delivery of the requested items. He placed them down beside Rose and went back to stand near the corner, although he was a little closer than last time as he kept a curious gaze on the baby elf.

Rian watched with eagle eyes as Rose grabbed a bright blue thing and wrapped a cloth around it. She put in on her ankle and held it there for a moment before holding it out to him. He reached out hesitantly and took it, almost dropping it in surprise as he gasped. It was freezing cold! Then Rian remembered some lessons that all the castle guards had to take about treating injuries; if something was swollen, put something cold on it, like snow if you could, or dip it into a cold water source.

He knew it was going to hurt, but it would help in the long run, so he gingerly placed the bundle on his swollen ankle, hissing as it made contact. “Thank you,” he said, giving her a nod as he held the ice pack in place.

“You’re welcome,” Rose replied with a soft smile, guessing at what he’d said. He was clearly intelligent and seemed to know exactly what the ice pack was for, even more than her cursory demonstration would suggest. The little guy had gotten a strange look on his face when he registered the temperature of it and then it had been like something had clicked inside his head.

She pointed at his left hand and motioned for him to give it to her. Rian glanced at it and realised it was half clean. She must have been in the middle of it when he woke up. Sure enough, he could see the bowl of water and a cloth sitting there on the floor. He gave her his hand back, noting she had four fingers to his three, plus the thumb. Her skin tone was pale, like a Vapra, but lacked the subtle hues native to the Silverlings.

He sat there, one hand holding the ice pack in place, as Rose deftly but gently cleaned the rest of his left. She was taking a great amount of care with him and he wondered if it was because he was different or if she was actually nice. Maybe she just liked childlings and he was about the same size from what he could tell. Rian was infinitely glad that her fingers, while slender, were not the long, spindly digits of a Skeksis with their deceptive strength and grip. Nor did she have claws, but blunt and slightly rounded fingernails just like a Gelfling.

His blood had clotted while he slept and Rose softened it and wiped it away, bit by bit. It started bleeding again, but she held the cloth to the wound and fished around with her other hand for her bag, which held a few essential items for any doctor. She pulled it close and dug around for a box of plasters. She opened it one-handed and grabbed one of them, sliding it free of the box. Rose let go of the cloth to get the small adhesive bandage open and ready, carefully lining it up with the wound and wrapping it around Rian’s hand securely, tamping it down gently to make sure it stuck. The doctor could only hope he wouldn’t pull it off for a while to give it a chance to close up.

Rian scrunched his nose a bit, pulling his hand back to inspect the thing that was now stuck on it. It was the strangest bandage he’d ever seen, but he was thankful for it. A thought flashed into his mind and lodged there. Could he dreamfast with these creatures? Could he communicate that way? It had to be worth a try, he thought, holding up his left hand so his fingers pointed at the ceiling and his palm was facing Rose, hoping she’d copy him.

The doctor was a bit baffled. Had he turned the tables on her with the Follow Me method? Or did he want her to remove the plaster? Surely if it was the latter he would do it himself. Rose internally shrugged and copied his actions, holding her left palm close to his.

“Be careful Doctor Woods,” Mark urged from behind as he stepped closer, ready to step in if needed. The last thing he wanted to do was any sort of clean up due to weird alien shenanigans.

“I will call you if I need you,” she repeated to him.

Rian took as deep a breath as his ribs would allow and pressed his palm to hers, closing his eyes and concentrating for all he was worth. He could feel something. Like a lone ember that had rolled away from the main fire. A tiny flicker, hard to see and even harder to catch, but catch it he did.

It was not a proper dreamfast. There was no true meeting of the mind and heart that Gelfling shared. He focused as hard as he could on that little flicker. Thank you for your help, he said, hoping his words and his gratitude made it across the void - that the tiny ember was enough to convey such a message.

To Rose, she had felt adrift in a vast sea the moment he’d shut his eyes. It was like treading water while being deeply submerged, but she could breathe just fine. She quivered as something seemed to grab hold of her. Not physically, but as though her very soul had been touched. A voice, masculine but very faint, echoed through the substance she was floating in. Thank you for your help, the voice said, only just audible. Rose only had a moment to marvel that this was likely Rian speaking to her, mind to mind like in those sci-fi shows on television, before she felt a wave of gratitude wash over her. She gasped aloud, the experience foreign but not unwelcome. Rose tried to gather all the warm feelings she could and push them in the direction the voice had come from, almost shouting, You’re welcome!

The Gelfling was stunned when he felt a trickle of feelings return. All good things, like a hug for the very essence inside. A faint call of You’re welcome, came across and Rian smiled. It was not the fastest or most effective way to communicate, but it was possible. Especially if something needed to be said that was not allowed to be lost in translation.

He pulled back, breaking the dreamfast. Then immediately revised his opinion on using it to communicate. He felt a bone-deep weariness throughout his entire body and his hand fell to the blanket he was still sitting on as the rest of his body slumped. “Okay. Not the best idea,” he said to himself, using every bit of energy he had left to stay sitting upright.

Rose blinked a few times to come fully back to reality. Mark touched her shoulder and she waved vaguely. “I’m fine, Mark. It was just...an unusual experience. Not a bad one, though. Wow, how to even begin describing it… Whoa!” she exclaimed, catching Rian as he began to fall. She laid him down on the blanket, just like he had been originally. She rolled over the blanket near his feet, giving him something to prop up his ankle with, then she took the ice pack away as it had slid off.

Rian groaned, suddenly wishing more than anything that he had some cool, sweet water to drink.

“Go refreeze that, we’re going to need it again,” the redhead told Officer Gillan. As Mark passed the demand on to someone outside the door, Rose dug into her bag once more and came up with a roll of elastic bandage. She scooted over to her patient’s swollen ankle and gently tugged up the leg of his trousers, rolling it up to keep it out of the way. “Sorry, Rian,” she said as he made some bleary, half-hearted protests.

The one good thing about the Skeksis, he thought, was that they spoke Gelfling. Some better than others, but they could understand each other just fine verbally. He had enough trouble with Podlings, but both parties managed. This, though, this was getting frustrating fast. He had nothing to spare to dreamfast again and he was too apprehensive to try as exhausted as he was.

Rose snipped off a length of bandage and began wrapping his ankle, taking extra care where she placed it as he was quite tiny in comparison. She wound it as firmly as she dared, subtly prodding around his foot and leg as she did. He had only four toes to match the four digits on his hands, along with more of that green on his skin underneath all the bruising. She secured the bandage and took up the cloth, dipping it into the water bowl as she shuffled her way from his feet to his head, grabbing the pillow and kneeling on it again.

Rian flexed his ankle, getting used to the feel of the bandages. They should help his foot to bear his weight enough that he should be able to limp around instead of hop. He saw the cloth enter his field of vision and shied away automatically, forcing himself to keep still as Rose murmured something and began washing the blood off his face. With everything else going on, he’d completely forgotten the fact that he’d smacked into a rock. Maybe he’d had a mild concussion and hadn’t known? In which case that dreamfast had been a really bad idea and he would’ve let his father dress him down for such stupidity. Grief welled up inside him, like a storm swelling a river until the banks were fit to burst, but he clamped down tightly, refusing the surge. Not here.

Rose’s cleaning revealed a nasty graze, deep in parts but hours old and no longer bleeding. She wasn’t sure if she could use any disinfectants and didn’t know how to ask about allergies. The strange void she’d been in when their hands connected was a possible route to ask, but it had clearly wiped him out and she didn’t want to risk his health further. Rose could see some green on his skin here as well, on both ears and across his forehead, going low enough to cover his top eyelids. It must be something native to his species, she thought, glad that it didn’t seem to be a bad health sign instead.

“Go and get me a bunch of plastic cups,” she said, catching Rian subtly licking his lips. “Bring in some bottles of drink, too. Water, milk, a couple of different juice types, but nothing carbonated. Also, bring in a range of small foods, all fresh. Different types of fruits, some vegetables such as carrot, some greens like lettuce and perhaps some non-sugary biscuits.”

Mark boggled a bit at the unusual order, but wiggled his fingers in a shooing motion at the mirror.

Chapter Text

The Boy-Who-Lived was no artist. He’d made some crude signs when he was younger and had learned to write his name. After learning what his name really was of course; for several years he’d been genuinely confused about his name being Boy or Freak, so it was weird, but nice, to discover his name was Harry.

He’d only had his cupboard, and his name, so he’d written a sign in crayon and hung it up, proudly proclaiming his cramped space as Harry’s Room. He’d drawn some simple things like stars and such, to decorate. Apart from mandatory art time in class, that was the extent of his drawing abilities. Harry had never tried at Hogwarts. He’d felt no real need and only had a quill and ink to use, which was not the easiest medium to write with let alone draw.

Harry had scrounged up a lead pencil, a sharpener and an eraser from supplies Dudley had left lying around. He was sitting at his desk again, paper in front of him instead of parchment. The tip of the lead touched the paper and moved, in cautious, hesitant movements, like a clown fish swimming in and out of anemone to check for predators.

The lines slowly took shape, with a lot of modifications and start overs. The strange elf girl appeared on the page in tones of grey, her frightened expression raw and visceral, despite Harry’s lack of expertise. His fingers tingled and he suspected magic was helping him, so he gave into it. The lines flowed much more easily at that point and the drawing truly took shape, the elf appearing exactly as he'd seen her, through Voldemort's eyes - he'd ponder more on that later, the moment her eyes had been clear of the poisonous looking purple.

Harry put the pencil down a short time later and was completely gobsmacked by his creation. He sent a mental thank you to his magic for helping, his fingertips feeling perfectly ordinary once more. He wasn't sure why he'd drawn her in the first place, but he hadn't wanted to forget her and he figured the drawing certainly helped in that regard.

The sun had been travelling while he'd been lost in his art and Harry realised it was now late afternoon. Was he getting out of here soon? If nothing else, he could show Hermione for her research. It was a perfect reference picture and the bushy haired girl would be able to appreciate it on that level at least.

On another piece of paper he started writing down everything he could remember about what he’d seen. The details were still remarkably fresh in his mind, unlike when one would usually recall only snippets and hazy details of a dream, if any of it was remembered at all. Harry described the room, bare as it was, along with mentions of the two Death Eaters and every word that had been spoken. He was sure he’d forgotten a few, but the general gist was there. He wrote down detailed descriptions of what he’d seen in the elf’s mind in case there was a way to find such a place if she couldn’t return under her own power.

Harry stopped and stared at the descriptions of what had been in her mind. He erased them all. No one else needed to know that, so he would keep it to himself for now. It didn’t feel right to share. He did write down the scene he’d witnessed that showcased her strange power though, as that would be needed by anyone that planned to fight Voldemort and his forces.

Did the elf girl have friends that were looking for her? Harry hoped so. Loyal friends were a true treasure after all. He also hoped she had friends that communicated much better than his friends did, he thought as his frustration got the better of him again.

The wizard carefully tucked both pages inside one of his school books, so they wouldn’t get squashed or bent, and slowly but methodically began packing his trunk. He couldn’t sit still or lie down to stare at the ceiling, so he would be productive. Hermione and Mrs Weasley would be proud, he was sure.

The teenager had been so apathetic since the dementor attack and news of his expulsion, then a hearing. Until that dream had brought back all the feelings he'd pushed aside, and invoked new ones. He missed the numbness.

Kylan, Seladon and the Drenchen twins stumbled into the tiny clearing they had claimed. Seladon fell to her knees, hands still clamped around the fish that had long since stopped moving. Part of her lamented that no one had any time to gather firewood since they’d all run pell-mell from the river. A bigger part of her was worried for her sister, all alone with that beast after her. Brea was a good flyer, better than her older sister by far, but the worry persisted. Wings got tired after all and none of the group had eaten a thing since they awoke in this strange place.

“Here,” said a voice.

Seladon looked up to find Gurjin holding out a hand and looking at her fish. “Oh...thank you,” she said, handing her catch to the Drenchen. He didn’t look the least bit disgusted by handling the slippery thing and the All-Maudra wished she was as composed about it. When Gurjin walked over to Kylan, she slipped just outside the clearing and vigorously rubbed her hands on the grass, trying to get rid of the feel and smell, her nose crinkled with distaste.

Naia dropped her shoes and hung her outer clothing from a low hanging branch. Gurjin stepped up beside her and gave her a pleading look, holding out his arms with a fish in each hand. Naia rolled her eyes and took the clothing he had hung over an arm, shaking it out and putting it beside hers on the branch.

“It’s starting to feel homey,” Gurjin joked. He grinned when Naia sent him a sardonic look, but his expression became grim for a moment when he turned away. He joined Kylan in the middle of the clearing.

The Spriton had found a decently sized rock with a flattish surface and patted it when Gurjin came in range. When the soldier lay both fish on it, Kylan examined them. They were fish, of that he had no doubt, but they were very plain looking and felt dull. Kylan was a song teller and songs were his trade - he knew the subtle tones and tiny melodies that various creatures sang subconsciously; could sense their songs playing when he made contact. Every living thing had a song and was a part of the very Song of Thra itself, many, many melodies twining together to complete the song.

Even when the fish had been alive, and one was being thrown right at him, he hadn’t heard any song, not even when he’d come into contact with it. It was unnerving in a way he couldn’t describe, despite his skill with words.

His gaze looked beyond the fish as his mind cast around. Now that he was truly paying attention, Kylan became aware that nothing felt right. Not the fish, not the trees, not the ground. Not even the various birdsong he could hear. None of it felt like Thra.

The other Gelfling stood out in marked contrast, like familiar landmarks after travelling to foreign places. Kylan didn't know what to do. He snapped out of it when Gurjin waved a hand in front of his face.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

Kylan debated whether or not to say anything. He wasn't sure if he was just worrying over simple speculation, and he had no way to prove his fears that he could think of. "Yeah, just tired," he answered.

“Understandable,” Gurjin said, glancing around at the others. “Do you want to try and find some firewood around here?”

Kylan noticed him looking longingly at the fish and chuckled. “Sure. We should be fine if we stay nearby.”

A light breeze rustled the leaves, masking Naia’s footsteps as she strode up beside her brother. “Stick close and stay low,” she advised. “Will you stay and watch the fish? Just in case a flyer spots them from the air,” she asked Seladon as the Vapra reentered the clearing.

“Of course,” Seladon replied.

All four of them froze, a feeling sweeping through them, like someone reaching out. Naia immediately closed her eyes to try and connect with it. She saw a flicker of fire, small and some distance away, but it was blue. Blue fire. Vliya. There was a Gelfling out there and it wasn’t Brea, it was in the opposite direction, back towards the village of big buildings. Naia could see it, but she was unable to reach out. She couldn’t tell who it was, but now she knew they were out there and able to reach the Dream Space in some way, as they weren’t with another Gelfling.

The feeling disappeared quickly, the flicker of blue fire dimming and vanishing to her senses. She opened her eyes to see the others watching her carefully. Kylan bit his lip, looking curious, hopeful, but wary all at once.

“What happened? Was it Brea?” Seladon asked, ears low with worry.

Naia shook her head. “No, this came from the other direction. Back where we came from,” she said, pointing back along the path of the black road that was just out of sight.

“Another Gelfling?” asked Kylan.

“Was it Rian? Or Deet?” Gurjin interrupted before she could answer.

Her ears gently flicked as she considered her words. “It was definitely another Gelfling, but I don’t know who it was. I know which direction they’re in and roughly how far away though,” she said, laying a rescue option out there.

Kylan tilted his head back and forth. “What if we could dreamfast and guide them here? It’d be safer for one to move alone than a group like ours, and splitting up would be a bad idea.”

“But most aren’t as sensitive as Naia. She’s the only one out of us that could tell anything more than someone accessing the Dream Space,” Gurjin pointed out.

“Oh, right, I forgot,” said Kylan.

“Let’s wait for Brea to return before we decide anything,” Seladon said, hunching her shoulders a bit and crossing her arms like she was giving herself a hug.

Naia nodded and simply said, “Agreed.”

Something in Seladon uncoiled at that and the Vapra found herself starting to respect the Drenchen Maudra-to-be. She could still smell fish on her hands and internally sighed. Hopefully her little sister would return soon - the quicker the better, for Brea’s safety and her own peace of mind.

A fluttery buzzing, followed by a soft thud, announced Brea’s arrival. She entered the clearing to a relieved chorus of welcome. The princess walked over to Kylan and deposited her armload of firewood, grinning brightly at his grateful smile.

“Wow, is there anything you can’t do?” Gurjin asked, waggling his brows and making Brea laugh.

“I can’t go without food and water,” she said after a few moments.

Kylan was busy setting up the fire. “I’m going to take that hint,” he said, ignoring Naia as she took a fish and started cleaning it. Gurjin took the other fish as the Spriton began lighting the fire.

It wasn’t long until they had a small but cheery fire crackling, the fish skewered and cooking steadily after being split into portions. Naia told Brea of her findings while they ate and the group started discussing plans to find the other Gelfling. The Vapran princess had felt Dream Space being accessed as well and was convinced it was either Rian or Deet. She was all for setting off as soon as possible, but Seladon was the voice of caution, reminding her sister that a large group such as theirs setting off during the day through dangerous territory was incredibly risky. The talk continued back and forth.

There were two rows of plastic cups; one in front of Doctor Woods and one beside Rian, who was still laying down. He was scrutinising her every move, but the smell of food and drink was making his mouth water and his stomach gurgle. She was setting out various foodstuffs near the cups, again with one each for her and the Gelfling. Rose began to open the bottles, pouring a small amount of each drink for each of them.

Curiosity and hunger fully piqued, Rian slowly sat up, putting a hand to his head and briefly closing his eyes as the room swam in his vision. When the dizziness abated somewhat, he swung around, slowly, to face Rose and shuffled forward until the cups were in reach. His nose was subtly working overtime as he inspected everything without touching it.

When Rose finished pouring them each a portion of the last type of drink she set the bottle aside, put the lid back on, and picked up her cup that contained a clear liquid. She carefully showed Rian and pointed to the cup near him that held the same substance. She took a sip and nodded at him.

Rian’s ears flicked forward. He’d watched every move she made and there had been no chance for her to poison anything. His parched throat and grumbling stomach made his decision for him and he grabbed the cup, bringing it to face to sniff it. The cup smelt strange, but the liquid seemed to be water. With a mental shrug he brought the cup to his lips and took a tiny sip.

It was water; not exactly cool, but refreshing all the same and incredibly welcome. He hastily gulped the rest of the cup’s meagre contents and frowned when he found it empty far too soon for his liking.

The doctor almost laughed at her patient’s expression, finding it rather endearing. She waited a few minutes to see if the water would affect him negatively. She wondered how old he was as her natural inclination was to treat him as a child due to his stature. After some time elapsed she picked up the next cup, this one holding milk, and took a sip when he looked up.

Rian followed, eyeing the white liquid warily, but tried it. His ears angled back and his lip curled in distaste as he swallowed the tiny mouthful. He hastily put the cup down and gave Rose an exasperated look of inquiry.

Rose only shrugged and put her own cup down. “I guess milk isn’t your thing,” she commented. She stopped him from picking up the next and indicated for him to wait. When she was confident the milk wasn’t going to make him ill, she picked up the next cup which had apple juice. Rose was not a big fan, but she took a sip for his sake.

The colour of this drink reminded him of the brew back in Stone-in-the-Wood that anyone could try. He didn’t want to be bested by some drink, so he went for it. It was a strange taste that was fairly strong and kind of sharp, but definitely fruity. He had some more and decided it wasn’t bad. That cup was quickly emptied as well.

Several minutes later it was down to the last cup. This one was orange and not opaque, like the white one, and he wasn’t too sure about it. He tried it anyway, ignoring Rose who was watching him carefully. This one was fruity as well and not as strong as the one before. Rian didn’t mind it too much, but he didn’t want to drink it all and put the cup down when it was half empty. He started eyeing the food, having figured out what Rose was doing and waiting for the go ahead.

Rose made him wait for twenty minutes, just to be safe. He seemed no worse off than before, if not tired, so she picked up an apple. The little elf had enjoyed the apple juice, so she thought he would appreciate the whole fruit itself. She bit into the rich red skin and showed him the pale yellow flesh of the fruit underneath.

With his stomach encouraging him, the Stonewood took a bite. The skin was a little annoying, but the actual flesh was delicious! His eyes widened and he took another bite, then another and another.

Rose sat back patiently and waited as he steadily devoured the apple, almost eating the seeds and core before she stopped him. She thought of offering him her apple as she’d only taken the one bite, but she didn’t want any germ contamination. What would be harmless to another human might be fatal for the elfin being. After the requisite wait period she picked up a banana and peeled it partway. Instead of taking a bite, she tore off a bit and ate that, offering the rest to Rian. If he enjoyed this one too, she would be able to let him eat both bananas.

The Gelfling took the weird looking thing and bit off a sample, surprised by how soft it was. It wasn’t quite as nice as the rounder one, but it was still good and he happily ate it all, handing over the peel when he was done. Rian watched her pour some more water for him, mostly filling the cup this time, and he gratefully accepted it. Rose tapped the long yellow thing in front of him and he realised he had eaten hers. He gave her a sheepish look and picked it up, taking a moment to recall how she’d peeled it. After a few seconds of struggling he managed to get it open and dug in, not caring if he appeared rude.

Doctor Woods watched him slow down as he worked his way through it, but he finished the whole banana and drank all the water she’d given him. How long had he been without either, she wondered. Were there more of his kind around? What was his kind even called? “Hey, can I have a pen or pencil and some unlined paper?” she asked.

One man in a suit harrumphed behind the mirror. “Now what is she doing? Going to see if it can draw pictures for her?”

Another man shifted from foot to foot in the cramped space. “Maybe she’s trying to find a way to communicate non-verbally?”

“Does it matter?” asked a middle-aged woman dressed in a business suit. “We just need to sell the story of an alien being, along with a picture or two. Neither of which requires the thing to communicate. It can clearly pick and choose what to eat and drink, that’s all we need to know in case anyone wants to buy it.”

“Buy it?” parroted the first man. “Shouldn’t we display it as a local attraction? It’ll bring in loads of revenue!”

The second man scoffed. “And what of the cost of building an enclosure for it? Food and upkeep? Security to keep away the flying saucer nutters and the people that would want the thing freed?”

“Costs we’d make back in no time,” the first man replied confidently.

The woman hummed in thought. “Yes. And when the public has had their fill and the profits start declining, we can sell it to the highest bidder.”

The first man nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes, no reason we can’t use it first. Are we all agreed on the basic plan?”

In the small room behind the mirror, watching the doctor and alien interact, the woman raised a delicately plucked eyebrow as the second man dithered over the decision. Two affirmative answers sealed Rian’s fate in the town of Little Hangleton.

Chapter Text

Deet felt lost, in every sense of the word. The Grottan had no idea where she was, who the creatures that had captured her were, or what to do now. The last thing she remembered was walking away from the celebration of the battle against the Skeksis, where she had killed one of them all by herself using the Darkening. Rian had followed her; poor, sweet, loyal daylighter that he is. She had walked off into the woods, giving him one last sad look, begging him not to follow her as she went. Then the sound of rustling branches, dying flora and the crackling of purple veins as they infected her surroundings.

After that came pain. Blinding pain that ripped the very air from her lungs so she couldn’t scream. It felt like her very blood was being boiled inside her and everything had become so, so bright. There was darkness after that. Deet wasn’t sure how long the darkness had held her in its embrace, but she hadn’t woken up in the woods.

An annoying sound, loud to her sensitive Grottan hearing, had roused her. Her first glimpse of the waking world was of a horrifyingly pale being with vivid red eyes and an almost completely flat nose with only slits for nostrils. It was clothed in a long black robe of some sort and had been staring at her intensely.

Then her mind was being intruded upon, like someone barging into her home completely uninvited. She could feel the being searching through her memories in a gross perversion of a dreamfast, the violation on a level virtually indescribable. It had cleared away the Darkening’s hold on her mind and she pounced, screaming and thrashing at it to leave. Her efforts had zero effect and it withdrew on its own after seemingly finding whatever it had been looking for. When she regained control, she tried pleading, knowing it was useless before she said the first word. But she had to try.

The figure had verbally rebuffed her, as she knew it would. The Darkening took hold again, nothing holding it back any longer. Deet could still see and hear, but moving took so much effort. It was like trying to walk through a flooded cave, the water up to your chin and the current against you. She could feel the energy inside, pulsing through her, making her feel ill and numb, hot and cold, all at once.

Two figures left at the pale one’s command - she hadn’t even known they were there! She was alone with the strange creature, terrified but showing none of it as the Darkening acted like a barrier between her thoughts, feelings and physical expressions. It wanted her power, wanted the twisted energy that coiled through her for itself, to use as a weapon as she had done.

The Grottan grieved. Yes, the Skeksis were awful, but she’d only wanted them to stop hurting her friends, not to kill any. Deet had never killed another creature like that before and her heart hurt.

The creature pulled out a stick. It looked partly ornamental and was polished nicely, held casually but firmly in its hand, long slender fingers wrapped around the thicker base of the stick. It was obviously very familiar with the tool and Deet wondered what it was for and what it did. Her hand was roughly grabbed and she could only watch in silence as the stick was run across her palm as it muttered something, leaving a burning line in its wake that quickly welled with blood. The warm substance dripped from the sides of the hands and created a reddish-pink path down her wrist.

She gasped internally, only barely managing to get her other hand to move up towards the injury in an effort to stem the blood. Her hand was moving slowly, too slowly, and was easily batted away. A small vial was placed under her hand before her wrist was turned, the blood falling into it.

When the vial was full, a stopper was put in it and it was hidden away inside an inner pocket of the black robes.

Deet’s second hand was close to her injured one when the stick was run over the gash. Some more muttered words that sounded like complete nonsense accompanied the motion and the bleeding slowed, the wound closing before her eyes. She stared in morbid fascination, wondering how a polished stick could do so much damage and yet heal flawlessly as well.

The purple veins gathered where the wound had been bleeding only seconds before, leaving a brightly glowing scar across her palm. It pulsed for several moments before dissipating. It had felt searing hot and freezing cold across her palm for a brief time before it faded, replaced by a disconcerting numbness. It was like her hand had gone to sleep, but without the pins and needles feeling, and she could move her fingers perfectly fine.

Deet managed to raise her head and look at her captor. The red eyes were fixed hungrily on her now blemish-free hand and she internally shuddered.

The day passed slowly until night came, the stars invisible due to the street lights. Harry’s relatives informed him of some award they’d won, despite not knowing they’d entered anything, and piled in the car. They drove off happily, leaving Harry by himself. Not that Harry minded in the slightest; he very much enjoyed having the house to himself whenever the incredibly rare opportunity presented itself.

Then came noises from downstairs and Harry found his house invaded by various witches and wizards. After sorting out who was who, the Boy-Who-Lived discovered that he was leaving the Dursley’s house by flying his broomstick. Now, Harry loved flying, but after several hours enduring freezing winds, the broomstick was no longer exactly comfortable and flying was no longer fun in the slightest.

When they finally, finally landed, Harry was ushered into a hidden house that was apparently the headquarters for something called the Order of the Phoenix. Mrs Weasley ambushed him with a hug the moment she spotted him, then gave him some very disquieting instructions about the stairs and bustled off, leaving Harry feeling very bewildered and a touch wrong-footed.

His reunion with his friends was...explosive. Dumbledore told them not to do this. Dumbledore said don’t do that. While it made sense on some level, Harry knew Ron and Hermione could’ve put forth more effort if they’d wanted. No matter how bad cleaning this old place was, they had still been together while he’d been completely isolated. Hermione at least seemed to understand that point and she was on the verge of tears, apologising earnestly.

His temper cooled enough for him to bank that fire and he took the opportunity to ask about everything now that they weren’t conversing via owls and letters. The answers they gave weren’t very satisfying and he was almost as frustrated with the situation as he had been back at Privet Drive.

Even though they’d patched things up for the most part, his two friends kept giving him looks as though he were a volcano about to blow. While he was gratified that they understood his anger, he didn’t want anyone to be afraid of him like that. That was something Draco Malfoy would revel in and it made Harry’s stomach churn. He was about to ask about elves when they were called down for dinner.

The kitchen had a nice big table and they easily fit around it, enjoying the smells that filled the room. Harry’s mouth watered at the thought of actual, decent food and he dug in with gusto when it was served.

Ginny was sent to bed after Harry started asking questions. The others fought to stay but Ginny had lost the battle and did not go quietly. The conversation that followed the meal was almost as good as Harry finally got some of the answers he’d been craving all summer. When a weapon was mentioned, the Weasley matriarch quickly wrapped things up and tried to shoo them off to bed, but Harry stayed where he was.

“I know about a weapon he has,” he said simply.

“You do?” asked Sirius blankly.

“What?” Mrs Weasley almost screeched.

Lupin blinked, staring at Harry like he was a puzzle to be solved. “How do you know?”

“I had some sort of vision about it. I don’t know if we’re talking about the same thing here,” he replied, hoping they weren’t. That elf girl didn’t deserve to be known only as a weapon.

“Where did this vision take place? What did you see?” Lupin asked slowly, reaching out and putting a hand on Sirius’s shoulder to stop him from moving.

Harry noticed that everyone in the room was paying rapt attention to him and he wanted to crawl under something and hide. It wasn’t for a bad reason this time, but he hated being stared at all the same. “I think Voldemort only got this last night. I only saw a small room, no decorations but a curtained window and a carved wooden desk with a matching chair. There were two Death Eaters there - Avery and Nott - they brought him something,” Harry said, not quite willing to spill what it was just yet.

But these were his friends, his teachers, his godfather. Shouldn’t he trust them? He saw the two remaining Marauders exchange looks. They were frowning and looking concerned, like this was news to them and Harry wondered what the weapon they’d been talking about was.

“Somehow I don’t think we’re talking about the same thing,” Harry said slowly, raising an eyebrow.

“So, he’s got something new then?” Sirius asked the room in general, tapping his fingers against his chin as he thought.

Lupin nodded hesitantly, avoiding Molly Weasley’s gaze. “It does sound like this is something completely different. Can you tell us what the weapon is, Harry?”

The young wizard frowned. “It’s not a weapon by itself, but it carries a power he wants,” he said firmly. He was met with confused looks, so he told them to wait there and went up the stairs to his trunk. He riffled through it, grabbed the book he’d put the drawing and the description in and made his way quietly back to the kitchen, still wondering about the crazy things he could wake up along the way.

Once back in the kitchen he reclaimed his seat and removed the drawing from his book, laying it out so Lupin and Sirius could clearly see it. He could feel the others leaning in closer as well, examining the paper.

“Oh, Harry, where did you get such a drawing?” Hermione exclaimed, looking it over appreciatively.

Harry couldn’t help a small smirk. “I drew it, actually. Today. It took me a while, but I didn’t want to forget what I saw. This is what Voldemort has and she has some sort of power in her that he wants. If he can’t gain it for himself he wants to use her like a mindless soldier and use the power that way,” he spat, seeing the frightened expression he’d drawn.

“Harry, mate, we didn’t know you could draw!” Fred said.

“Want to do some posters for us?” George asked with a wink.

“Boys!” Molly interrupted, glaring at them. Her expression softened as she turned to the raven haired boy. “What do you mean by she? How can you tell?”

“Voldemort looked into her mind and I saw that, too. I don’t know what kind of elf she is, but I saw others in her memories that are clearly male to her.”

Sirius looked very concerned, but Harry didn’t think it was about the elf girl or her power as his godfather’s eyes were trained on his, subtly looking him over as though for signs of injury. Harry had to admit that seeing through Voldemort’s eyes, especially when looking into the elf girl’s mind, was disturbing if he let himself think about it for long. How was such a thing even possible? It had been hard enough to accept seeing visions from a third person view; switching to first person seemed like a huge leap.

“I did send a very, very vague letter about it to Dumbledore. If he comes here a lot then he’ll get filled in, right?” said Harry, trying hard to ignore his godfather’s penetrating stare.

“Yes, dear, we’ll make sure he knows,” Molly said with a nod.

Harry sighed. “Here, this might help too,” he stated, putting his second sheet of paper on the table. “It’s what I could remember of my vision. I wrote what I could down in case I forgot.”

Lupin plucked the information up and read over it, his eyes narrowing as he went. “Can we keep this and your drawing?”

“Yeah, that’s why I made them.”

Molly huffed and started herding them out of the kitchen. “Come on, to bed with you. It’s quite late and I’m sure Harry needs a good night’s sleep.”

“What?” Ron sputtered. “And we don’t after all the cleaning you make us do?”

Privately Harry thought it was good that Ron got to experience cleaning a house the muggle way. It was something Harry dealt with frequently, so to hear all the complaints he’d written and now spouting verbally, made him feel vindicated. He’d already known Ron was lazy, but this just truly hammered that fact home. Ron would never be able to handle the list of chores Harry was made to do over the summer. Ron was usually jealous of Harry, but if he could live one week at the Dursley house in Harry’s shoes, he’d change his tune very quickly.

Molly just gave her youngest son a look. They all headed off to their rooms, planning to discuss things. Hermione knew Ginny would be waiting up for her to spill everything. If she wasn’t, Hermione would eat Hogwarts: A History.

A small stack of A4 paper and a cup of colouring pencils, that came from the police reception area and waiting room, were delivered to the only interrogation room currently occupied. Rose took a sheet of paper from the top and a pencil. She drew a very simple but deliberate stick figure of a human and wrote HUMAN under it in big block letters. She then carefully drew a stick figure that was very similar, but with one less digit for each hand and pointy ears.

Rose pushed the drawing toward Rian and tapped the first stick figure then the word below. She then pointed at herself, then Mark, then back at the word, tracing her finger above it as she slowly spoke it. The doctor pointed at the second stick figure, then Rian, then the blank space below before holding out a second pencil.

Rian had tried his best to follow along. HUMAN must be the name of their species and she was asking for the name of his. He frowned at the writing implement held awkwardly in his hand. He wasn’t completely illiterate, like many of his fellow Gelfling, but his knowledge of reading and writing was rather limited and it had been a few trine since he’d written anything. Still, this was one of the few words he could read and write, so he awkwardly started, feeling horribly out of practice the whole time. He winced at his shaky handwriting, but he could at least tell that it legibly read Gelfling.

Rose watched him avidly and had to hold back a sigh of disappointment as she beheld what he’d written. To her it looked like a series of little squiggles and dots, akin to an old runic language but more curvy. She couldn’t make heads or tails of it and Rian seemed to notice as he gave her a helpless little shrug. She tapped her word again and said, “Human.”

“Human,” he dutifully repeated, tapping the word as well. Then he tapped his writing and slowly said, “Gelfling. Gelf-ling.”

“Gelfling,” Rose parroted, smiling widely. The doctor had been so uncertain and apprehensive when she first arrived at the police station, but her patient had turned out to be a little treasure. Smart, adaptive and surprisingly kind and patient given his circumstances. She still wanted to know how old he was, but if they had a different writing system then numbers could be completely unmatched as well.

Mark had shuffled closer as time went by. This weird creature he’d found behind a bush didn’t seem to be much of a threat at all. Physically, anyway. The image of Doctor Woods touching hands with it and going into some weird trance popped into his head. Mark had no idea what had gone on and, even though the doctor had said she was fine, Mark couldn’t bring himself to believe her fully. Who knows what weird alien things Ree-ann had done to her during that? He could’ve planted eggs in her head and she’d never know until crazy baby Gelfling came bursting out of her skull after eating her brain and eyeballs.

Okay, so maybe he watched a few too many horror and thriller flicks. Still, even if the little elf seemed more like E.T. than a facehugger from Alien, he was going to be cautious. One could never be too careful with wild Earth animals, let alone an actual alien being. He was intensely curious though and crouched down beside the doctor, despite his movie-inspired misgivings.

Rian watched Officer Gillan with caution, but no real fear. “Hello there,” he said with a short nod, knowing it was pointless. His parents had raised him to be polite above all though and his manners had served him well numerous times.

Mark gave a quick little two fingered mini-salute and a grin, glad their guest didn’t look like E.T. or a facehugger. It made him more approachable at least.

Rian’s blue eyes widened at the gesture. This one was some sort of guard, a fellow soldier! Maybe if he showed respect they would be more inclined to help him? Perhaps even with searching for Deet! The Gelfling scrambled to his feet, ignoring his aches and pains, and offered Mark a salute of his own, like he would give his father as the Captain of the Guard.

The policeman had rocked back on his heels when Rian moved, but the salute froze him in place. “This little fella is trained,” he blurted out fairly calmly. He nodded firmly at Rian and watched as the Gelfling sank back down in relief, watching him with a hopeful expression.

“Trained?” Rose asked nonplussed.

“Trained?” repeated a voice behind the mirror. “As in his alien society is organised enough for soldiers?”

The woman clucked her tongue. “You fool! As in this one may be a scout or something and others could very well follow.”

The other man fidgeted with a nervous energy. “Is this the start of an invasion? Are we being invaded? It’s been treated well, do you think they’d leave us alone if we set it free so it could put in a good word on our behalf?”

“We don’t have nearly enough information to know anything solid right now,” the woman hissed. “We only have theories and we’ll continue on with the plan until we get any new facts. That doctor is doing a good job of getting information and perhaps it’ll respond well to the officer in there now that we know it’s trained. I want both of them to keep at it. The more we learn, the better.”

Chapter Text

The long grass near the fence was not the best camouflage, but it was better than nothing by far. As long as they could spot the black road through it, but not be too conspicuous to tempt the road creatures off their path, then Naia was happy. Well, happy might be too strong of a word. She was satisfied. It was the best arrangement they could make without using the cover of darkness as well.

“What if they can’t afford for us to wait that long?” Brea had asked.

They had no way of knowing what the Gelfling was doing and if they were in trouble or not. If they were, then there wasn’t any time to waste, so waiting for darkness was no longer an option. The decision had been made to leave now and be as careful as possible. The least bad of all the options, of which none had been positive.

The field stretched on for a while, but eventually the fence joined another at a right angle to impede their progress. They didn’t want to jump the fence with the black road on the other side, but they would still have some protection if they jumped this new one.

Gurjin half crouched near the fence, his hands linked to make a step. He boosted Brea over, then Seladon. Naia went next but Kylan declined.

“You’ll make it,” Gurjin said.

“I know. But I can fit through the fence easier than you, so I’ll boost you over and climb through,” Kylan replied evenly.

Gurjin considered his own build, let his eyes rake over Kylan’s smaller and more slender frame, then gave the gaps between the fence an appraising look. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

The Spriton took Gurjin’s place and grunted as he heaved the Drenchen into the air. Gurjin grabbed the top fence rail and used it to help vault himself over. He landed and turned around just in time to see Kylan start wiggling through the gaps. He was almost halfway through when he shot the others a sheepish little grin.

Naia rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to laugh, stepping forward and grabbing his arm and a handful of his shirt near his waist. She heaved and Kylan came through, plopping ungracefully onto the ground. He stood up after a moment and brushed his clothes down, trying to regain what little dignity he had left before they all set off again, Naia in the lead.

It wasn’t long before they started seeing the buildings more frequently and were cautious to skirt around them until they became too packed together. Too many large creatures travelled the black roads and now they could see more tall creatures, like the one that yelled at them, walking around on the side paths.

“We’ll have to find some small, back paths. Maybe even go through some property here and there,” Naia said as she assessed the way the buildings were clumped together.

Seladon looked highly affronted. “You want us to trespass?”

“It’s either we do a bit of harmless trespassing or we get caught. Then all of us, including whoever it is we’re trying to find right now, will be in much bigger trouble,” the Drenchen replied, frowning at the Vapran.

“We’re just going to pass through,” Kylan said calmly. “We won’t be breaking in or out, nor will we be stealing anything. Think of it like a slightly tricky shortcut.”

The All-Maudra still didn’t look happy, but she knew it was better than being caught. She nodded and sighed.

“It’s a shame we couldn’t just fly right over,” Brea said absently.

Gurjin raised a brow. “Some of us can’t fly,” he reminded her.

“I know, but we could carry you if we could launch from a high enough place,” she said, casting about for just such a thing.

“No,” Seladon said firmly. “There’s no place high enough and we would need to make multiple trips. We also have no idea if there are weapons here that can be used against flying enemies,” she continued with a small shudder, remembering the wicked curved blade that had whizzed through the air straight at her. Maudra Fara had pushed her aside and been struck herself; the injuries and the sudden shock proved fatal for the staunch Stonewood. Seladon never wanted to see a sight like that ever again.

“Let’s head off, shall we?” the Spriton asked, verbally prodding the group into action.

“Right, follow me and keep quiet unless it’s important,” Naia said, ducking down and heading behind a building. She wished she still had her cloak with a hood.

Kylan was wishing for his own cloak and hood too. He would feel better with it if they were spotted because no one would see his face at least. The others hurried after her in various states of determination, worry, unease and displeasure.

Things went smoothly for a while. They were able to keep out of sight and stay on course. It made everyone feel the tiniest bit less anxious about the whole venture. The scenery was interesting if not outright pretty to some. The buildings were mostly nice to look at, with many having statues or ornaments here and there among a plethora of colourful flower species.

Seladon smacked Brea’s hand away from various flowers more than once. Brea wondered how angry her older sister would be if she knew of the flower she had touched the first night. It didn’t stop her questing hands from reaching out towards more flowers.

About halfway through the quaint village, as far as the group could tell, they pulled up short as a tall creature walked in their direction.

“Time for a shortcut!” Naia said, trying to keep her tone light. She scrambled over the nearest fence, quickly followed by the others.

The Gelfling could see the tall creature walk past through cracks in the wooden fence. All of them let out a relieved sigh when the creature carried blithely on its way with no indication that it had seen or heard them.

“You climbed the fence,” said a young voice. “You’re not supposed to climb fences, the grown-ups get mad.”

The group turned to see a miniature of one of the tall creatures. It was looking right at them, a bucket filled with brightly coloured objects near its feet. One of the objects was held in its hand.

“Is that a childling?” Brea asked.

“Does it matter? It can still raise the alarm,” said Gurjin, shifting his stance subtly to jump in front of his companions.

Kylan’s nose was slightly scrunched and his head was tilted. “I didn’t understand a word it spoke,” he said, bemused. Growing up in Sami Thicket had afforded the song teller with a thorough education in the Podling language as well as his native Gelfling, so he was used to communicating wherever he was.

“Gurjin is right, it doesn’t matter,” Naia interrupted. “Back over the fence, quick, then we make a run for it in case an alarm is raised,” she commanded.

“All clear,” Brea reported, staring through the fence cracks.

Gurjin chuckled and helped Seladon scramble over. “I love it when you admit I’m right.”

“What are you saying? You sound funny! And you shouldn’t climb fences!” the small creature said loudly, just shy of yelling, as Naia went over the fence. It threw the brightly coloured object it was holding.

It was heading for Brea and the princess ducked automatically, but Gurjin stepped forward into its path. It smacked into his chest and exploded.

Gurjin’s eyes had shut, but he opened them after several moments and looked down at his body. The object had split and water had burst from it; a surprising amount for how small the object was. Gurjin was dripping wet but unharmed.

“Well...that’s different. Hurry it up!” he ordered, waving a hand at the fence while keeping his bright amber eyes fixed on the physically harmless but noisy threat.

Kylan climbed over and Brea gave a barely audible squeak as she quickly followed.

Another object was thrown and Gurjin raised an arm, letting it hit. The water soaked his sleeve and splashed his face. It felt quite refreshing, but he wasn’t going to let the creature know that. He frowned at the creature, which took a step back, now looking unsure.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Gurjin said while wagging a finger, as though lecturing a childling. Then he, too, went back over the fence and acted as a rear guard while Naia led them away from the area as quickly as she could.

Rian grabbed a piece of paper and picked up the pencil he’d dropped when he’d saluted. He pulled the paper close and bent over it, scribbling away. For several tense moments, the scritch-scratching of the lead pencil was the only sound properly audible in the room.

“I hope he’s not trying to write anything. Kind of pointless, you know?” Mark said casually, just to break the silence.

“It was a long shot anyway,” Rose admitted softly, trying to catch a glimpse of what Rian was doing. His long, thick brown hair was in the way and he was hunched too far forward, hiding what his hands were doing. So she spent some time admiring the colours that streaked his hair. She was sure his hair and its colours would look much better after a good wash as he was still coated in dust and some cobwebs, likely ageing him far beyond his years as parts of his hair looked grey.

Rian was making little noises the entire time. The two humans were unsure if he was even aware of it, but Mark found it funny. The Gelfling would shift around, grunt a bit and hum a little, seemingly at random.

Several minutes were spent like this and until Rian finally straightened up, going so far as to try and pop his back by stretching. When some of the ache dissipated, Rian turned the paper he’d been scribbling on around, tapping it insistently.

Mark and Rose both leaned over to look. Drawn on the page were two prominent figures, tall and mostly shapeless as they were covered in cloaks Rian had hastily coloured in, just enough to show that they were meant to be dark. One cloaked figure had half an arm visible and was holding what looked like a sparkler; a thin stick with little lines in a circle at the tip. The second figure was crudely drawn carrying something and Rose gasped. She tapped the figure being carried.

“Gelfling?” she asked hesitantly.

Rian nodded solemnly. “Deet,” he said, tapping the picture of her. “She was captured. Can you help?” he asked, tapping the cloaked figures on the page before pointing at Mark and shrugging, his eyes pleading.

“Bloody hell, his friend was captured by cultists?”

“You might’ve found him shortly after. He may have fought them or gone looking for them. Perhaps both,” Rose commented, frowning harshly at the paper.

“Yeah, but when did this happen?” asked Mark, wondering if he could get a few search parties together. “Can you ask him?”

Rose hummed thoughtfully. She grabbed her own pencil again and drew a sun and a crescent moon over the cloaked figures. She tapped each then shrugged when his attention shifted to her.

Rian’s heart thumped with hope as his spirits soared. They were helping him! He tapped the moon symbol once and held up one finger.

“What’s that mean?” Officer Gillan asked.

“I’d say either one night ago or last night,” Rose replied. She tapped the sun and shrugged again.

Rian shook his head. He tapped the sun, but then gestured around aimlessly.

“I’m going to say last night as I think he means the daylight of today.”

“So there are more of these Gelfling around and this one’s friend was taken captive by weirdos sometime last night? This feels too much like a movie plot to be real,” Mark bemoaned, shaking his head. He looked half amused and half sad, resulting in a rather interesting expression.

“Part of me wants to disagree with you, but I can’t,” the doctor said with a sigh.

Rian was finding it tricky to fully discern expressions as their ears did not move at all. He was sure he could get close, but there would always be that margin of doubt. At least a human was easier to read than a Skeksis. He wanted to ask what they planned to do about helping him find Deet, but he wasn’t quite sure how to go about it. His mind flashed to the Circle of the Suns and Rian suddenly fiercely wished he had a collection of puppets and props to communicate. He sent a silent apology to skekGra and urGoh for dismissing their artistry and chosen method to relay their story.

Faint notes of a haunting melody barely made it through the walls of the interrogation room. Mark frowned and cocked his head while Rose looked around for the source. Rian’s ears perked up and a smile lit his face as he recognised the song and the instrument being played. The former castle guard would’ve bet the Dual Glaive (if he still had it) that he was hearing Kylan playing his firca.

What the Stonewood wouldn’t give for a window!

“What was that?” Mark asked.

Rian waved and pulled forward the paper Rose had drawn stick figures on. He urgently tapped the Gelfling figure before pointing at the door in an insistent manner. He stood up again, this time taking note of his ribs and ankle. When he found the others that had been taken to this place, and they’d rescued Deet, then he would happily let himself sleep for a trine. By the time he woke up, all his aches and pains would be gone. But, for now, he’d have to power through, so he limped over near the door and pointed at it again.

“Come on, come on, my friends are out there! Let me out!”

“I think there are other Gelfling outside,” Rose said with wonder, “and he wants to be reunited.”

“Yes, more Gelfling! Now how do you…?” Rian trailed off after latching onto the one word he could understand, grabbing the door handle that was just above his head.

“Whoa there, little fella, hold your horses!” Mark exclaimed, swooping over and plucking Rian off the floor by his armpits. He swung around and handed the stunned Stonewood to Rose, who took him gingerly until she was holding him like a child, partially straddled against her upper body.

Rian protested vehemently, but quickly dwindled into silence. Would it be worth trying to dreamfast again? He resisted the urge to squirm. Being held like this was humiliating! He put his face in his hands and let his head gently thunk onto Rose’s shoulder with a frustrated groan. He never saw the awed and amused expressions Rose wore as it sunk in that she was all but hugging an alien life form that was only three feet tall.

Mark chuckled. “I’ll go and have a look for his mates,” he said, quickly exiting and closing the door behind him.

“More of them!” the second man blurted out in a fearful tone. “They’ve come for their kin, let it go!”

“Get a hold of yourself, Clark!” the woman said with a sneer. “They’re half our height with the technology of a hermit living deep in the woods in a little log shack. If there aren’t many, we should catch the new ones too.”

The first man raised an eyebrow. “Why? Want to set up a breeding program and sell off baby aliens to the billionaires of the world?” he asked, his words full of snark. He paused, rubbing his chin. “That’s actually not a bad plan now that I think about it. It’ll mean extra costs for more enclosures, but the returns will swiftly make it worth every pence.”

“See, Clark? Trent here is a man with the proper vision. Quit blubbering and pull up your big boy pants before you get cut out of this deal,” the woman said. She poked her head into the hallway and waved over the nearest police officer on duty. “There’s more of those little elf aliens outside the building. Officer Gillan has just gone to look for them. Take a few with you and see if you can catch them all and bring them in here to join their friend. We don’t know how dangerous they really are or what their purpose here is, so it’s better to contain them and be safe than sorry, right?”

“Of course, ma’am!” the man replied. After a few orders were given, a small team followed Mark out of the building.

Time had gone by inside without Mark really aware of it. Now he could plainly see it was the afternoon, the sun beating down. He walked around the building, unable to see anything out of the ordinary. He started a second circuit, going slowly. “Hello? Gelfling? We have your friend Rian! Please come out,” he called.

From the bushes around the parking lot came a small figure. It cautiously approached with its hands clearly visible. Its hair was a shiny black, pulled into braids, and the skin tone resembled Rian’s olive brown without any of the green. The eyes were brown and watching him warily. The clothes seemed simpler than the ones Rian wore, but were of a different design and colour.

“Rian?” it asked hopefully.

Mark smiled and nodded, pointing at the building. “Rian’s inside,” he said, hoping the message got across. Taking a leaf out of the doctor’s book, Officer Gillan put a hand on his chest and said, “Mark.” He gestured at Rian’s companion.

“Kylan,” came the unsure reply.

Mark clicked his radio. “Hey, whoever’s nearest Doctor Woods, go in the room with your radio and tell ‘em there’s a Kylan out here.”

A few moments passed before the radio crackled to life. “Do you think he really understood?”

“Kylan?” came Rian’s voice, expectant and hopeful.

Mark knelt down and held his own radio out, miming speaking then pointing to it. He clicked a button down and nodded.

“Rian, is that you?” the Spriton asked, staring at the odd device.

“Oh, Thra, Kylan, it’s so good to hear your voice! I’m inside, are you outside? Are you alone or did you find anyone else?”

Kylan nodded automatically even though Rian couldn’t see it. “Yeah, I’m outside with the rest of our band of heroes, minus Deet. Oh, and the All-Maudra. Are you okay in there?”

“They wouldn’t let me leave the room when I heard your firca, but they’ve actually been really hospitable. Are any of you hurt?”

“No, we’re all fine. Is there any way you can convince them to let you go?” Kylan asked. They may have treated the soldier well, but he still sounded like a prisoner to the song teller.

“They can’t keep you there against your will! It isn’t right!” Brea blurted out, rushing from the bushes to stand beside Kylan.

Mark raised an eyebrow at the newcomer. This one clearly looked and sounded female and was completely different again from the other two, with incredibly fair skin and hair; light where the males were dark. More rustling produced other figures. One as fair as the female, perhaps a relative? And two that were different again, resembling slightly swampy looking Jamaicans, with light brown multi-hued skin and bright streaks of colour in their dreadlocks. If they weren’t related then Mark would eat his badge.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Brea, but talking to them isn’t the easiest thing.”

“No way!” Gurjin said boldly. “Talking to them is the easy part. Understanding them is the hard part.”

“...somebody smack Gurjin for me, since I can’t.”

Naia snorted out a laugh. “Consider it done,” she said, slapping her brother’s arm and making him dance out of reach in case of a second strike.

“Ow! Hey!”

“Thank you, Naia.”

“You’re welcome, Rian,” the smaller Drenchen replied smugly.

“This isn’t getting us any closer to getting Rian out of that building,” Seladon remarked, crossing her arms and raising her head regally.

Several police stepped forward, surrounding the small group. They had circled around while all the attention was on the radio conversation. No weapons were drawn, but they were slightly crouched with their hands raised, looking ready to pounce.

“Hang on, what’s going on?” Mark asked, frowning at his fellow officers. He spotted Beth and stared at her.

Beth gestured broadly over the group. “We were asked to catch them all and bring them to their friend inside. Better to have them all in one place. We still don’t know where they’re from or what they’re doing here, so it’s safer for everyone this way. They’ll be well looked after, like the one inside.”

While the answer did make sense, the execution left much to be desired. “Why not just ask instead of herding them like they’re an escaped tiger or something?”

Beth looked a bit abashed at that and lowered her hands. “It...seemed quicker this way?” she said weakly with a little shrug.

Mark pulled the radio back a bit. “Doctor, someone wants all of these little fellas inside, but I don’t think they’ll just follow me. Can you get Rian to translate or something?”

“I can try? Let me put him down first...there. Oh, I know! Where’s the paper - aha! Right, let’s try this…”

CRACK.

All the officers ducked automatically, looking around for the shooter. Several more cracks rang out, prompting Beth to lay down for fear of being hit. Mark had shuffled forward and was trying to protect the Gelfling, using himself as a shield. Bright red jets of light started whizzing through the air and anyone that was hit crumpled to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. Mark was struck from behind and crashed down, making Kylan and Brea jump back before they got squished.

The radio fell from his now slack grip.

“Who are you?” Rose demanded.

“It’s them! They took Deet!” Rian cried out. “Give her back!” He yelled out a wordless battle cry and they heard some scuffling before the radio went silent.

New figures now surrounded the group, dressed in long black outfits. They each carried a stick in their hands and these were pointed at the group. Something was muttered and the Gelfling fell, the world fading to black.

Chapter Text

“Don’t even know… -from…”

“...that one! It’s aggressive!”

“Is that...separate…?”

Noises faded in and out, like being dunked underwater randomly where everything would be muffled until you surfaced and your ears worked properly again. This was accompanied by a seesawing sensation of floating and feeling unaccountably heavy. Focusing on the noises brought forth a pounding headache, but it was the only thing to cling to.

“Leave him alone!”

That voice was loud and clear and completely understandable. Rian opened his eyes, expecting to see Gurjin hovering over him. He saw a slab of metal that looked fairly close, but with the way he felt he wasn’t entirely sure he trusted his senses right now. It was probably far out of his reach. He remembered hearing Gurjin and looked around, faintly registering that he was lying flat on his back.

He saw bars. Metal bars, surrounding him on all sides. His foggy mind took a moment to comprehend what that meant. A cage. He was in a cage. He sucked in a panicked breath and sat up in one frantic movement. The world swam and he shut his eyes and groaned, one hand over his face and the other arm wrapping around his ribs.

“Rian! Rian, are you all right?!” Brea all but shouted.

“The aggressive one is awake,” an unknown male voice reported.

“Take slow, deep breaths,” Naia advised from a different direction.

The Stonewood tried to follow her advice. A minute or two later his head was still pounding, but it was far clearer. His ribs still ached, but it was manageable and he opened his eyes to take a proper look around.

He was, indeed, in a cage. So were the others; Brea and Seladon were in one cage against one wall to his right, Gurjin and Naia were in another straight across from him, and Kylan was in a cage alone to his left on one side of a closed door. There were two robed figures in the room, which looked like it was made of cut stone. One was writing something with what looked like a feather while the other was staring right at him, standing only a couple of feet from the cage and holding one of those sticks in its hand.

“How are you feeling?” Naia asked, her piercing gaze focused on him. “You were the last of us to wake and you took a while. That ankle looks awful too, even with a bandage covering it.”

Rian took his hand away from his head. “Feeling better,” he answered truthfully enough. “Well, aside from the ankle. Landed on it wrong, I think.”

“You look like you’ve been crawling through spitter nests,” Gurjin commented, eyes roving over his best friend’s dirty hair and clothes.

“No, just around a really big, rickety, abandoned building while looking for Deet,” Rian said.

Kylan wrapped his fingers around the bars near the base. “I thought I heard you mention Deet before we were all knocked out. Have you seen her since we came here?”

Rian tilted his head as his ears angled back. “I saw her for a moment. She wasn’t awake and was picked up by two of these creatures, called humans, with black cloaks and holding sticks. They sort of half turned and vanished with a loud bang, so I went to check out the nearest building. I didn’t find any sign of them or Deet though,” he said with a frown.

“Sure sounds like the same thing here,” Gurjin said, eyeing the stick held casually by one.

Brea came forward, pressing right up against the bars of her cage. “What did you say they’re called? Humans? How do you know that?”

“There was one inside the building with me and we managed to communicate a few things to each other,” Rian said with a shrug. He slowly stood, stumbling on his wrapped ankle, and limped to the bars of his cage, grabbing hold and leaning a good portion of his weight on them. He stared right at the stick wielding human, noting that he was being watched much more carefully than the others.

The one with the feather pointed the end of it at Brea and then Rian. “I swear to Merlin I heard them say ‘humans’, Craig!”

The one with the stick made a noise of agreement. “Perhaps they’re a foreign breed of an offshoot of house-elves?” he speculated.

“Shouldn’t they display magic then? None of them have shown any kind of magical power yet,” came the rebuttal, the feather tip now pointing at Craig.

Craig only shrugged. “Maybe they haven’t found a reason to use any yet. Be nice if they could use some to speak English, wouldn't it? Andrew, is that healer here yet? Or the magizoologist?"

“You’ll know they’re here when they’re in the room with us,” Andrew drily replied. “Did you hear the Aurors had to get a squad to obliviate an entire building of muggles over this?”

“I don’t think we’ve had a breach this big for a while,” Craig absently replied, staring back at Rian. “Do you understand me?” he asked the Gelfling.

Rian stuck his right hand carefully through the bars and wiggled his fingers in a come here gesture. “I’m going to try something, don’t panic.”

Gurjin’s ears lowered as he shook his head despairingly. “That makes me worry more,” he said, his voice bordering on a whine.

The Stonewood ignored him and wiggled his fingers again. “Craig,” he said, hoping he’d picked out the right word.

The wizard in question almost jumped a foot in the air, not expecting to be directly addressed. “Merlin’s beard! It seems they can understand and learn to some degree. What does it want though?”

“To shake hands? I’m right here if it tries anything and we are meant to be learning about them. Go for it,” Andrew encouraged, sliding his wand out of his pocket.

“This is like my first Care of Magical Creatures lesson in third year all over again,” Craig lamented. He stepped forward and clasped Rian’s hand, giving it a cautious and gentle shake. He gave a barely audible gasp as the grip of the little hand tightened.

Rian swiftly shut his eyes and went searching for the ember like he’d done with Rose. He didn’t have to go far though as he was confronted by a fire. Well, if it made things easier he wasn’t going to complain. He dove in, showing Craig the memory he had of Deet being taken. Who are you? Where did you take her? he shouted through the Dream Space.

Craig flinched under the voice. Seeing this was so surreal, but it confirmed that these creatures had some sort of power. That wasn’t us, we don’t have any others of your kind! he said in return. I’d almost say those two looked like Death Eaters, but they were disbanded years ago… he trailed off, his mind pulling up a memory of reading about Death Eater activity last year during the Quidditch World Cup which he inadvertently shared.

The soldier sent across a mix of feelings accidentally; anger, weariness, determination. Let us out of these cages and help us find her! Please! A flash of pain followed that set numerous nerve endings on fire.

The wizard didn’t get a chance to reply as he felt reality reasserting itself when the small hand slipped out of his, its owner now using it to grip the bars so tightly the knuckles were almost white. Cries from the other cages rang out, the word ‘ree-ann’ being the most prominent. Craig’s eyes met Andrew’s, the other wizard’s wand raised and pointing at the cage. “What did you do?” he asked a little breathlessly, the experience having shaken him.

Andrew opened and closed his mouth a few times, like a fish gasping for air, before he managed to say, “Just a Stinging Hex…”

“Felt a lot worse than that to him,” Craig said absently, shaking his head and massaging his temples. “Give me the quill and the board,” he ordered, writing about the strange experience the moment he could.

The others were still trying to get the Stonewood to answer them when the door beside Kylan’s cage opened and two new humans walked through. One was a woman with hair beginning to grey and the other was a very tall man with dark skin. The dark-skinned one was standing with his arms hanging loosely by his sides. The woman, in contrast, was gripping her wand tightly, looking around the room and taking in the cages with a disapproving eye.

“It seems the healer is here,” Andrew announced to Craig, earning him a glare. “You might want to look at Craig first, that one did something to him,” he continued, pointing an accusing finger at Rian, who was still leaning on the bars in pain with a death grip and looking completely oblivious to the rest of the world.

“Auror Shacklebolt, would you mind staying to lend a hand if needed?” the healer asked, waving her wand over Craig and muttering a few things under her breath.

“Of course, Healer Fen,” the Auror replied in a slow, deep voice.

The healer crossed her arms. “You’re fine, only some fading remnants of a very overpowered Stinging Hex.”

Andrew winced guiltily, but he knew he hadn’t overpowered it at all. Maybe Craig had been right and the creature felt it much worse than intended. He gave the creature an apologetic look, but it was still out of it and only increased his guilt more.

Kylan moved to the corner of his cage closest to Rian and made an aborted move to reach out. He was much too far away. “Rian, can you hear me? Please say something, we want to know you’re all right,” the Spriton coaxed.

Rian blew out a breath and drew a somewhat shaky one back in, looking at Kylan. “I thought...those sticks...only...made light,” he panted.

“And knock you out,” Brea grumbled, earning a snort from the Drenchen siblings. Her pale golden eyes were fixed on Rian and only held concern in their warm depths. “What were you even doing? Dreamfasting?”

“Can these humans dreamfast?” asked Naia, her gaze flicking between Rian and the various humans in the room.

“Yes,” was all Rian hissed out before his grip loosened and he slid down, sitting with his knees pulled up against his chest but still holding onto the bars. “Language...is no problem...when dreamfasting...apparently.”

“Wow, really?” Brea said, eyes lighting up as questions tumbled around her head. Seladon’s hand on her arm and a warning look made her swallow those questions. Her sister was right, this wasn’t the time or place for indulging her curiosity.

The healer attracted their attention as she stepped up in front of Kylan. “I’m going to examine a healthy one first so I can see what would be considered normal for their species. Once I have a good baseline established I’ll take a look at that one,” she said curtly, nodding at Rian at the end.

Rian’s ears flicked forward and he narrowed his eyes at her. The gibberish that was their language had actually made some sort of sense to him. He gave his head a quick shake, as though to dislodge an insect. He watched her raise her stick and aim at Kylan. There was no chance he could dodge her at such close range. The others cried out, yelling warnings and threats that would go unheeded.

Kylan gulped and crouched a bit, darting around as best he could to avoid the tip of the stick settling on him.

Healer Fen huffed. “If you don’t hold still you’ll have to be immobilised,” she chastised, trying to keep up with his erratic movements.

Rian’s blue eyes widened. “Kylan, hold still!” he commanded.

“What?” Kylan gasped out, but did as he was bid. He saw the healer nod in satisfaction and closed his eyes as the stick was waved over him. He cracked one open as he felt nothing happen, even though she was still waving and mumbling things. A piece of paper was now floating beside her, figures being automatically recorded on it though he couldn’t see it. After a minute or two she finished, rolling up the floating paper and stuffing it gently into a pocket, walking away from Kylan’s cage and prompting him to give a tiny sigh of relief.

“Rian,” said Naia, her tone unyielding. “Explain what just happened. Now.”

The Stonewood was very glad, for once, that Naia was in a cage on the other side of the room and couldn’t currently reach him. “I...understood what she was saying. I don’t know how it happened, so don’t ask! But she was going to immobilise him if he didn’t stop moving around and I didn’t want to know what that would entail,” he answered, a dark look crossing his face for a moment before he shrugged and focused back on Naia.

Craig stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled it a bit, looking discontent when the action didn’t deliver the results he wanted.

Healer Fen stopped in front of the Drenchen duo, aiming at Gurjin. He waved Naia back and stood there, facing her down. The process used on Kylan was repeated and a second scroll was added to her pocket a short time later. The healer moved to the Vapran sisters and inspected the scratches on Seladon’s left cheek before aiming at Brea, the process giving her a third scroll. Now she moved in front of Rian, clucking her tongue.

“That other one has clearly been scratched, but you look like you’ve tangled with something you shouldn’t have and lost,” she remarked after observing him for a brief span.

Rian raised a brow at her, but his thick fringe mostly hid the movement. He couldn’t keep an amused grin from spreading, wondering if a large rock and a big, unsafe staircase counted as things he shouldn’t tangle with. He sat still as the stick was aimed at him and idly watched the wavy movements. He couldn’t understand whatever she was muttering and it only increased his confusion about the whole thing. He’d dreamfasted with Rose and couldn’t understand her or Mark, so why would he suddenly start understanding the stick wavers after dreamfasting with one? And, if he could understand them now for whatever reason, why was he suddenly unable to here and there?

The fourth floating paper was not rolled up like the others. Healer Fen did another wave and the other three floated from her pocket to hover in the air in a line with the newest addition. Her eyes roved over each of them carefully, taking in every detail that had been recorded. The first three had a few minor discrepancies across the board, which she had fully expected as you wouldn’t get the exact same readings off three different humans either.

The newest one showed a number of major differences, much more easy to identify with the others to use as an average base. Her frown grew deeper the further down the page she read. “What spells was this one hit with?” she asked sharply.

Shacklebolt cleared his throat. “That one charged the Auror that went in to retrieve it and was subsequently hit with a Stunner. The others were taken down with a standard sedation spell for small creatures.”

“Is that all?” she asked, her tone full of disbelief.

Andrew ducked his head. “I used a Stinging Hex after it did something to Craig,” he admitted hesitantly.

Healer Fen whipped around, a steely glare bearing down on the hapless wizard. “You’re the one that used that horribly overpowered hex?! What in the name of magic do you think you were doing? Somehow I can’t believe you were thinking at all!” she thundered, making Andrew cringe back.

“It wasn’t overpowered at all, honest! I just hit the creature and the effect rippled across to Craig somehow from whatever it was doing to him! It must be really sensitive or something!” he almost wailed as he defended himself.

“It...he...shared a memory with me,” Craig spoke up. “I think I shared one back. But he spoke to me in my mind and I could understand him. It felt weird, I can’t lie about that, but I feel fine. The healer said I was fine. The act itself wasn’t exactly malicious, just unexpected. Why, what have you found?”

The woman sighed, turning a sad gaze back to Rian. “Extensive bruising around the head, neck, arms and torso. A visible graze on the face, a reasonably deep injury on the left hand and several bruised ribs. The right ankle is also badly bruised, swollen and sprained which is clearly visible as well, though it seems the muggles he was with did some first aid,” she said, eyeing the bandage critically.

“Were any of the muggles hurt?” Craig asked the Auror.

“No, just Stunned, per procedure,” Shacklebolt replied, his deep tone sounding oddly reassuring.

Rian was happy to hear that, even if he didn’t know what the word muggle meant. From the context he guessed it meant the humans without sticks, like Rose and Mark. He’d grown to like Rose, and even Mark by the end, despite the short time they’d spent together. So hearing that they’d just been knocked out like he had was nice to hear, even if the method used wasn’t the best.

Kylan sat down, leaning on the bars closest to Rian’s cage. “If you can understand them now, does that mean they can understand you?” he asked, his expression wary but inquisitive.

“It would make things much easier,” Seladon said wistfully.

“I have no idea,” Rian said slowly. He was partially listening to Healer Fen and Andrew discuss what could be done about his injuries without knowing if there was anything he might have a bad reaction to. He heard the healer lament about not knowing how his ankle was injured and he got an idea. “Hey, Craig, tell her I fell through a rotten staircase,” he said a little louder than was necessary.

“He fell through a rotten staircase,” the wizard dutifully repeated before freezing, staring dumbly at Rian with his jaw hanging open.

Rian smirked in triumph as the other Gelfling cheered this seemingly small victory. He finally felt like he’d taken a big step forward. The rest of the humans turned to Craig. Andrew looked confused, Healer Fen looked gobsmacked, but Auror Shacklebolt barely raised an eyebrow, just gazing at the stupefied wizard.

Chapter Text

When news of Harry’s vision reached Dumbledore he called an Order meeting before dinner, the day after Harry had arrived. None of the children were allowed to attend, as usual, not even Fred and George who were of age to join. Their mother strictly refused to allow their participation and it grated on all the younger Weasleys. Hermione didn’t seem to mind too much, but Harry absolutely hated being left out, especially as it always came down to just him and Voldemort in the end whenever they crossed paths.

Albus Dumbledore was sitting at the head of the long kitchen table in 12 Grimmauld Place. Molly and Arthur were both present, as was Mundungus Fletcher, Emmeline Vance, Alastor Moody, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. Shacklebolt entered as unobtrusively as he could, locking and warding the door behind him at Dumbledore’s signal. It was a small meeting, but it had been hastily called and not many could attend on such short notice.

Albus sighed and steepled his fingers. “It appears as though young Harry has been having more visions of Voldemort. While I expected this, it is not a good sign, despite the apparent usefulness, and will need to be monitored. The letter I received from him was very vague, but enough to worry me. He did very well writing it and I think only a small handful of people would have figured it out, all of which are in this house right now. I am glad to see he is taking safety and security seriously regarding letters and information. Now, I believe he expanded upon the letter after arriving here last night, correct?”

Remus and Sirius filled everyone in on the contents of Harry’s vision, leading to worried looks and fearful expressions about the new weapon and its power. Remus handed over the written account of the vision to Dumbledore while Sirius placed the drawing of the elf girl on the table.

“This is the weapon,” Sirius said awkwardly. “Well, Harry says she has a power that he wants and that power is technically the weapon.”

Shacklebolt extended a finger and slid the drawing towards himself, taking in every detail. “This looks like one of the creatures the Ministry got a hold of earlier today,” he said, remembering the six elfin figures in cages. He’d been dismissed from the room once the healer had announced his presence as extra muscle unnecessary, but he’d been there for long enough to memorise many details about them.

“The Ministry has a creature like this?” Arthur asked. “Where did they get it?”

The Auror slid the drawing back across the table so others could see it. “There are six of them. We were alerted to a breach of muggles in contact with magical creatures and a team of Aurors, myself among them, were sent to capture the creatures. An entire building of muggles in Little Hangleton had to be obliviated because they had seen and interacted with the creatures. They were brought back to the Ministry to be identified and assessed, though I don’t know what they planned to do with them after.”

Dumbledore picked up the drawing, eyeing it as though it would divulge all of its secrets if he looked hard enough. “If they hold such power then we need to collect them from the Ministry before any Death Eaters can learn of them and smuggle them back to Voldemort, especially as he already has one.”

“What’s to be done about the one he has?” Molly asked, remembering how upset Harry had been over the elf girl.

The headmaster shook his head, his long beard gently swaying to and fro. “There is nothing we can do but keep the other six out of his hands. We cannot put lives at stake for one creature, especially when we do not even know the whereabouts of Voldemort or where he’s keeping his new weapon. I would not wish the fate of being his captive on anyone, but it’s a matter of perspective,” he said heavily, both palms facing up as he made a little sweeping gesture.

Molly looked like she was about to argue but subsided, appearing resigned.

“How are we going to get the other six out?” Arthur asked, leaning on his elbows with a hand on his chin. “Are they going to be brought here?”

Sirius tapped his fingers on the table in a staccato rhythm. “I wouldn’t mind having them here if they’re not gonna blow up the place,” he said with a shrug and a barely concealed grin. “Honestly, this is probably the best and safest place to keep them out of the wrong hands.”

“If Sirius does not mind hosting them here, then Grimmauld would be an excellent hiding place,” Albus said with a decisive nod. “Ideally I would prefer to wait until Harry’s hearing in five day’s time to attempt any sort of rescue mission. Much of the Ministry will be focused on the trial, with all the members of the Wizengamot actually attending it, with a number of others too busy waiting for the verdict to do their jobs properly.”

“I’m not sure we can afford to wait that long,” Remus spoke up, a weary frown making itself at home on his face.

Albus stuck a hand up one sleeve and pulled out a Sherbet Lemon. He popped it in his mouth, ignoring the incredulous stares with the ease of long practice. “No, they are far too exposed and vulnerable where they are to leave them there for so long. The sooner the better in this case. Kingsley, where exactly in the Ministry are they located?”

Kingsley Shacklebolt rested his linked hands on the table. “They’re on the fourth floor, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, in a side room just off from the House-Elf Relocation office.”

“Are they restrained in any way?” Albus asked.

“They’ve been split up into metal cages which I assume are designed to help suppress a house-elf’s magic to prevent outbursts. Two in one cage, two in another and the last two have cages to themselves,” came the reply.

“Shouldn’t be too hard to get them out of those,” the owner of the house said absently, eyes narrowed slightly in thought.

Dumbledore merely nodded. “If anyone has any ideas then please speak up. Time is of the essence.”

The dark-skinned human had left quite a while ago, but the other three were still in the room. Craig had been besieged by questions, but was left alone when he could give no satisfactory answers. The healer was having a lot of trouble deciding what was safe enough to try and had only gotten as far as narrowing down some options in all that time. It was very hard to tell exactly how much time had gone by without being able to see the sky. At least the Skeksis’ castle was fairly open, with many points that joined with a very long wrap-around balcony where you could see wonderful views.

Rian refused to speak to the humans after the initial verbal contact had been made during his test. Brea just couldn’t understand why. They could finally talk and be understood! Now they could learn where they were and how to get home after getting Deet back. So many questions could be answered, so many things could be learned, but the Stonewood just wouldn’t. Was what the humans were saying putting him off? Was he worse off than his ankle and being knocked out would imply? Was he simply sulking? He was so stubborn!

With the humans only observing, taking notes, or fussing over supplies, now seemed like a good enough opportunity to speak up. Seladon would not stop her this time. She walked the length of the cage back and forth, letting her fingers softly thunk against the bars as she went.

“So can they understand all of us or just you?” she asked as she paced towards Rian again.

The soldier, still sitting down and clutching the bars, only shrugged.

“Can all of them understand or just the one you addressed directly?” she asked, holding in a sigh.

Her only answer was another shrug.

She let loose that sigh. “Hello to whoever can understand me. Please give me a wave if you can,” she said, a sarcastic edge leaking into her tone.

Gurjin immediately waved at her, sporting a big grin. Naia rolled her eyes but followed suit. Kylan gave her a bashful wave from the other side of the room while Rian actually gave her a quick wave as well, trying to hide his amusement. Brea felt like he was the big brother she never had and wondered if a real brother would be as annoying. Judging by Gurjin and Naia’s relationship though, she guessed Rian was actually acting like a typical brother would. As she looked around her eyes caught one of the humans giving her a tiny, hesitant wave. A quick inspection revealed that this was the one Rian had addressed by the name of Craig.

“Hello!” she chirped happily at him. “Your name is Craig, right?”

He gave her a small, sharp nod, trying not to draw attention to himself.

“My name is Brea,” she said politely with a dip of her head. “Can you please tell us where we are?”

“Leave it, he doesn’t want to help,” Rian suddenly broke in.

Brea looked shocked. “What? Why not?”

“Because the ones that took Deet are to these guys what spitters used to be to us. They want nothing more than to pretend they don’t exist and to turn the other way,” he said with a sneer, glaring at Craig. He’d gotten a lot more from the dreamfast than Craig did, he was sure. “I doubt they’d help us knowing we’d only leave to track down the figures they’re terrified of. That would mean admitting that they exist and are a real threat.”

Kylan closed his eyes at those words as Maudra Mera came to mind. She’d known all about the Hunter but had pretended he wasn’t real because it was easier for her to turn the other cheek. The song teller knew exactly what Rian meant and it made him angry. “You should face the truth, even if it’s easier to turn away and live a lie,” he said, keeping his voice carefully controlled.

Craig’s brow was deeply furrowed as he was verbally flayed by beings half his height. “It’s not that easy or simple,” he whispered, mostly to himself.

Gelfling had better hearing than humans though and all six heard it.

“Only because you feel like it isn’t,” Naia scoffed. “When you strip everything back, it is rather easy and simple. If you have the wings for it anyway,” she added with a smirk. This got amused reactions and chuckles from the others, even though Gurjin looked a touch offended while he laughed.

Seladon walked up to the bars, forcing her younger sister to stop pacing. “I would like to speak with whoever is in charge of this place,” she said somewhat snootily, bringing her full regal upbringing into play.

Craig glanced at Andrew and Healer Fen before shaking his head and whispering, “Can’t, sorry.”

To give the wizard some credit, he really did look apologetic about it. What the Gelfling didn’t know was that he was more sorry for the whole department than he was for their plight. Minister Fudge considered it beneath him and never stopped by to check on things for any reason. He would occasionally stop by other floors, but never this one. Fudge was a pure-blood traditionalist and found other beings, creatures and spirits unworthy of his time. He’d say something nice about it to the press but only to keep up his public image.

“Are you going to keep us prisoner?” Gurjin asked. His stomach churned at the thought as he didn’t relish being a captive again after he’d been caught helping Rian escape the castle.

“You’re not prisoners,” he whispered with an eye roll. These elves sure were dramatic.

“These cages say otherwise,” Seladon primly retorted.

Rian frowned. “Unless you’re keeping us as pets,” he all but spat, reminded of the conversation he’d had with the Chamberlain in his carriage.

Craig never got the chance to reply as Healer Fen picked up a small vial she’d poured a measured amount of some potion into and stood before Rian. She held it out slightly, though not far enough that he could grab it. “If you can understand me, then you need to drink this. It’s a pain relief potion and should be safe for you to take,” she said, her tone both official and sounding as though she knew it by rote.

Rian eyed the vial. The substance inside didn’t exactly look like something a Gelfling should be ingesting, so he turned his face away. He’d accepted the liquids Rose had offered fairly easily, but she’d also shown them to be safe as she let him see her pour them and drank them first as well. He didn’t trust any of these stick wavers.

Healer Fen huffed lightly, used to recalcitrant patients. “I know you must be in quite a lot of pain from your various injuries. Drink this and the pain will disappear,” she cajoled.

The Stonewood let go of the bars and crossed his arms over his knees, tucking in his hands, in a show of clear refusal.

“After that communication incident earlier I had hoped you’d be more reasonable and cooperative about this,” she said with a sigh, sliding her wand from her sleeve and giving it a flick at Rian.

The Gelfling felt his entire body freeze and become immobile, like he was a stone statue. He could only move his eyes, not even a whimper made it past his lips. The panic truly set in as she stepped right up to the bars with the vial in hand. There was nothing he could do.

The healer pointed at Andrew and beckoned him over. “You, come here. Reach through the bars, tilt his head back and pry his jaws open.”

Andrew reluctantly complied, setting down the quill and clipboard and going to the cage. He gazed at Rian warily, as though the little elfin figure would suddenly break free of the spell and bite him like a werewolf on a full moon. He put his arms through the bars and forced Rian’s head back slowly until the healer said to stop. With that done he put his fingers in between Rian’s lips, carefully getting between the top and bottom rows of teeth and forced them apart, wide enough for the healer’s satisfaction.

The others were rattling their cages, shouting out, but the healer took no notice and Rian couldn’t reply. When Andrew retreated the healer took his place, the hand holding the vial now hovering over his head. His heart was pounding so hard he thought the force of it would shatter his already bruised ribs, but he couldn’t quite move enough to properly gasp for air. It made him very dizzy and lightheaded, with black spots beginning to dance along the edges of his vision. The vial was tipped and the potion easily poured down his throat. He choked, but still couldn’t move as a hand closed his jaws and settled over his mouth. He trembled as he was suddenly able to move and he tried to cough and splutter, but the hand over his mouth was in the way. Another hand rubbed two fingers down his throat, repeating the action several times until he swallowed it and stopped choking.

The hands disappeared but Rian didn’t care as his eyes clenched shut, tears leaking out of the corners. He flung himself backwards until his spine hit the bars of the back of his cage. He’d swallowed the strange liquid. The most awful taste lingered on his tongue and his stomach turned, threatening to expel its contents. Perhaps that wouldn’t be a bad thing if it got the liquid out of his system.

Gurjin was pounding the bars of his shared cage so much the cage was rocking slightly with each blow. Naia was trying to catch an arm to pull him away from the bars, but was having no luck. She was not worried about the cage or its movements. No, she was concerned her brother would injure himself. She was worried about Rian, but she couldn’t reach him right now to help. Her brother was in reach so she would put all her effort into helping him until they got out of here.

“Kylan, you’re closest,” she said. “See if you can get through to him to check on him.”

Gurjin stopped attacking the cage at his sister’s words but he continued to shout, calling out to his best friend, yelling warnings at the humans to back off and shouting threats he’d go through with if they didn’t.

“I don’t think his friends liked that one bit,” Andrew said, amazed at the strong reactions from the others. Did they not know their friend was given medicine to help?

Craig scoffed under his breath, wondering what his coworker would say if he could hear the things the others were saying. The tallest one that had been rocking the cage was quite vivid and inventive with his threats, even if Craig had no idea what half the things being mentioned actually were.

Kylan looked across the gap that separated him from Rian. It was only a few feet, but it was a few feet too many for his liking. The Stonewood was now curled up tightly, sitting with his back against the back of the cage. His face was tucked into the nook between his knees and chest and further hidden by his arms, leaving only his hair and ears visible. Kylan wanted nothing more than to reach out, draw Rian into a hug, make sure he was okay and keep that human woman from doing anything else.

The Spriton scooted back out of reach in his own cage and pulled out his firca. The other Gelfling settled down to listen, their attention torn between Kylan’s imminent music and the huddled soldier. He brought it to his lips and began playing; the notes were bright and happy, bouncing around the room like energetic fizzgig. If the song teller couldn’t physically reach his friends then he would do it another way.

Chapter Text

The tune was light and fun, bringing some cheer into what was starting to feel like a dungeon room. When the song came to an end, Kylan immediately launched into another, this one just as cheery and playful. The other Gelfling were all sitting down, just letting the music wash over them and take their minds away on a fun adventure in a better place. Partway through the third song the Spriton looked over at Rian. The Stonewood’s head was tilted in his direction and one half-open blue eye was staring at him, though it wasn’t quite focused. It was something, at least, and Kylan would take it.

The stick-wavers were listening too, though they were more mildly interested than entranced. The healer was watching her patient carefully, to see if the potion would work properly with no ill effects. Craig was just listening, trying to see if he could recognise any of the music. Andrew had reclaimed the quill and clipboard and was once more faithfully taking notes, this time about the administered potion, the reaction of the patient, the reaction of the others, and now the musical ability being displayed by one of them.

Kylan caught Naia’s eye and nodded towards Rian.

“Rian?” she inquired between notes. “How are you feeling?”

His green-tinged ears flicked slowly. “All the pain is gone,” he said dully after an interval of silence.

“And?”

“Sick to my stomach.”

Naia’s ears angled back. “Is that because of whatever you swallowed?” Her only answer was a shake of his head. She hadn’t had a good view of whatever had been done to him as the humans had blocked much of it and the lack of knowing was rubbing her the wrong way. She wanted out of these cages, out of this room and away from the stick wielders that enjoyed knocking Gelfling out and stuffing them in cages so they could do things to them.

Brea poked at the bars just for something to do. “If that drink you swallowed took away the pain from your injuries, isn’t that a good thing?” she asked softly, tone uncertain.

Seladon put a hand on her little sister’s shoulder. “It’s a matter of consent. He refused the...medicine, but they forced it on him anyway. Even if they may have done it with good intentions in mind, it was utterly reprehensible behaviour, especially how they went about it,” she said, glaring at the humans in disgust.

Kylan finished the song and lowered his firca. No longer being in pain sounded wonderful, but he agreed with the All-Maudra. They’d taken the decision out of Rian’s hands, even though he’d already declined, and treated him like some dumb animal that didn’t know what was good for it. The female human approached Rian’s cage again and Kylan took a quick breath, blowing the loudest, most obnoxious note he could.

The shrill noise startled Healer Fen and she instinctively stepped back and to the side, closer to Craig and Andrew.

All the Gelfling winced and Kylan mentally apologised. He scrambled to his feet before pointing at the healer and shaking his head deliberately slowly. “Stay away,” he warned in a chilling tone.

Naia, who had been travelling with the Spriton the longest, had never heard him sound like that. She was impressed as it sent a chill down her spine. If their usually passive companion could intimidate her, branded Fierce by Mother Aughra, then she could only imagine the effect on the humans that had no idea what he was normally like.

“I’m trying to heal their friend,” Healer Fen said with a measure of exasperation. “You, can’t you tell them?” she asked, rounding on Craig.

Craig threw his hands in the air. “They already know!” he said loudly. “They hate your methods and are now very protective of the injured one. And I kind of can’t blame them, that whole scene just looked...bad. Andrew, go and get them something to eat and drink. Get an array of things. We’ll put it all in the cages and they can pick and choose what they want. Healer Fen, perhaps you should step back for a while?”

“I have to finish treating him soon, I need to get back to St. Mungo’s. I’m only doing my job,” she said, grumbling a little. She conjured a comfy chair right there in the middle of the room and sat down, crossing one knee over the other and keeping an eye on Rian as she was facing him.

Andrew scurried off as Craig sighed, “It won’t hurt to take a food break,” at the healer.

The room was quiet until Andrew returned with a large load of various types of food and half a dozen simple goblets. He split them all up among the cages, levitating it all between the bars from the centre of the room so none of them could grab him like they’d grabbed Craig.

Craig noticed the evasion tactics and had to suppress a sarcastic comment. He grabbed the big jug of water and walked right up to each cage to fill up all the goblets. All of the elves did nothing but watch as they were given water, leaving Craig alone. Physically, anyway, as they all kept a very close eye on him, making him feel like an attraction at a zoo despite being the one outside the cages. He filled up Rian’s goblet and softly pushed it towards the still huddled figure.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I promise the food and water is safe,” he whispered softly.

Naia picked up a goblet and thoroughly inspected it. The goblet was made of smooth wood, the cup part obviously carved from one piece. The wood smelt of wood, not even of any polish, and the water held no other scent. Her tongue flicked out to take a tiny lap of the liquid. After a moment she declared the water safe to drink.

The others cautiously picked up their own goblets except for Rian. The food was prodded and nibbled at, but not much of it was eaten over the span of half an hour. The healer had been getting ever more fidgety as time went by, though she managed to keep it subtle. When it became obvious that nothing else was going to be eaten in any sort of timely manner, Healer Fen stood up and went back to the supplies she’d narrowed down earlier.

She cast a quick diagnostic and found the pain relief potion was working well. She felt more confident with some of her other medicine choices now and grabbed a bruise salve. Healer Fen was not exactly sure how she would strip the elf enough to apply it, but perhaps one of his friends would be able to?

Healer Fen quickly consulted the two wizards and it wasn’t long before the bars of Kylan’s cage were transfigured and Kylan himself was levitated to Rian’s cage. The bars were transfigured just long enough for him to be floated inside, then immediately transfigured back.

Although they had said what they were going to do, Kylan had not understood and had not been prepared to float helplessly through the air, even across such a short distance. Once he was inside Rian’s cage and got his bearings, the healer’s hand was in his face, holding out a jar. He gingerly took it and she nodded.

“I’ll be back tomorrow for a follow-up,” she said briskly before leaving.

“What do I do with this?” Kylan asked, giving the jar a tiny shake.

“It’s a bruise salve,” Rian answered, shifting just enough to look at Kylan. “You’re supposed to rub some of it on a bruise and the bruise will heal faster.”

Kylan frowned, expression bewildered. “But I’m not bruised,” he said.

Rian stared at him flatly.

“Oh,” the song teller said slowly. “Is that why I got moved here?”

The Stonewood nodded tiredly. He hadn’t touched any of the food or water, even if the others deemed it safe. He wasn’t sure he could keep it down and he hoped Kylan left the matter alone as the Spriton spotted the untouched sustenance. He blinked as a hand was gently laid on his arm, still hugging his knees.

“Do you want to try it?” asked Kylan softly, shifting closer and tilting his head to get a better look. He was the first to get a good look at Rian since they’d been reunited and he didn’t like what he saw.

Rian eyed the jar, not trusting it, but the potion had taken the pain away as advertised. He had a lot of bruising and if this salve worked as well…

“Maybe you can try a bit of it on one spot?” Kylan suggested, catching Rian’s expression.

It was a good idea. Rian raised his head and pushed some of his shirt collar out of the way, letting Kylan get a good look at a dark bruise the size and shape of Skeksis fingers. The Hunter had not been kind when he’d grabbed his prize. The Stonewood saw Kylan make a face at the sight, but simply opened the jar and scooped out a small amount with a fingertip. The salve was cold against his warm skin, but it quickly became soothing.

Some time later Kylan peeked at the spot he’d covered. It had begun turning a different colour, indicating healing, so he informed Rian. The soldier asked him to cover the rest of his bruises and Kylan readily agreed. The Stonewood slowly and carefully pulled off his tunic. Kylan gasped, horrified, at the mass of dark bruising that littered his friend’s torso. Almost half of his skin was bruised instead of olive with patches of green here and there. Kylan hoped there was enough salve in the jar and got to work.

The night had been restless. A cold metal cage was not conducive to a good night’s sleep, nor was the general dungeon-like feeling of the room itself. The room was warm at least, which was great for Rian as he’d slept with his shirt off, covered in salve. The goblets had been refilled and breakfast went much like dinner the night before.

Kylan managed to get Rian to take a few bites and have a small drink. There was a bit of salve left in the jar, so Kylan used it on the worst spots before Rian donned his tunic again. The thought of another day spent there, subjected to whatever the stick-wavers wanted, was intolerable. They couldn’t discuss escape plans though, not with Craig there.

Andrew entered with a balding, red-haired man that was wearing spectacles like skekOk the Scroll-Keeper - though only one pair. He brought the new man to the cage holding Rian and Kylan and pointed at the former.

“That’s the one that spoke up, but only Craig understood any of it. Good luck,” he said blithely before snatching up his beloved quill and clipboard and retreating to a far corner.

“Hello there, I’m Arthur Weasley, head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts office,” the red-haired man said cheerfully with his face right near the bars. He conjured a chair and sat down as close as he could get without being inside the cage himself. “I just have a few questions for you, that’s all, and I hope you can help me out.”

Arthur held out a hand for a shake, but both Gelfling ignored it. It didn’t seem to dim his smile one iota. Kylan subtly sat partially between the human and the Stonewood. Although Rian felt it was unnecessary, he appreciated the effort all the same.

Arthur retracted his hand and clapped softly. “So! I heard you spent some time with muggles. Did you use any magic on any of their things?”

Kylan was frowning lightly, wishing he could understand. He turned to face Rian.

Rian’s mind was racing. Magic! Did the humans with those sticks use them to perform their own mystic arts like Gelfling had vliyaya? Those sticks made human magic much more versatile than that of a Gelfling and he was sure he’d only seen a fraction of what they could do. He shook his head in answer, not wanting to find out what else they were capable of.

“You didn’t use any magic on any muggle things at all?” Arthur asked. “You didn’t bring anything to life? Change something into something else? Nothing?”

The Stonewood stared straight into the wizard’s eyes. “I didn’t use any magic on anything,” he said clearly but softly, only loud enough for the red-haired human to hear. Dreamfasting was a mystic art, but he didn’t think that counted.

Arthur looked a little startled at the response in clear English, even if there was a hint of an exotic accent. Kylan, on the other hand, was floored. Rian had spoken in a foreign tongue, sounding exactly like the humans, and he hadn’t been able to make heads or tails of any of it.

“Ah, well, that makes my job easier. Did any of your friends use any magic?” Arthur asked, his smile easily slipping back in place even as he lowered his voice a bit.

“No, none of us did anything,” Rian replied. “Why are you asking?”

“It’s my job you see,” he said. “I track down normal objects that have been enchanted and are among the muggles. Some nasty people like tricking the poor muggles and the objects end up hurting them and causing a mess, so I try to find these objects as fast as I can before anyone can get hurt.”

The Stonewood’s ears came forward slightly. “You wanted to know if we’d done anything that might hurt the...muggles?” he asked tentatively.

Arthur nodded. “Yes, that’s it. I don’t mean to accuse anyone, you know, but I do have to check. Better safe than sorry and all that!”

Rian nodded back. This stick-waver didn’t seem too bad so far. He wondered if he should revise his opinion as Arthur came even closer and lowered his voice to a mere whisper.

“Don’t panic, I’m here to get you out and take you somewhere safe. There are bad people after you called Death Eaters,” he said hurriedly.

The Stonewood’s eyes widened and his hand flung out to latch onto Kylan’s sleeve as he heard the words ‘Death Eaters’. According to Craig they were the group that had captured Deet!

Kylan placed his other hand over Rian’s, wondering what was going on. He reached out through a mild dreamfast to wordlessly ask Rian if he was okay. Rian’s mind latched onto his like his hand had done to Kylan’s sleeve, drawing him deeper, but not quite into the Dream Space.

“There’s going to be a commotion and, during the distraction, I’m going to get rid of the bars on all of the cages,” Arthur continued, making sure they were listening.

Kylan gasped as he could understand every word the man was saying, although it didn’t sound quite right.

“Once the bars are gone, you all need to jump out and huddle near me. I’ll drop a big cloth over you and it’ll make you invisible to everyone as long as none of your feet or anything are showing. Stay as close to me as you can when I leave and try to head out the door before me, do you understand?” he asked quickly.

Rian and Kylan looked at each other and nodded. They would have to hope the others were quick off the mark and followed their lead as Arthur had been whispering too softly for anyone else to hear.

A loud crash made them all jump and turn towards the door. Craig and Andrew rushed off to investigate, not worried about leaving the Weasley patriarch alone.

“Okay, everybody close your eyes, you can open them after the flash!” Arthur instructed, pulling a wand from an inner pocket. This wand was not his, but would work well enough and would give him an alibi if they searched his wand for evidence.

Rian quickly relayed the plan and instructions. The moment all of their eyes were shut, Arthur banished the front row of bars on the three occupied cages and set off a massive burst of light. Just as it faded the Gelfling scrambled down and grouped together, watching apprehensively as a large piece of cloth was flung out and left to settle over them. Those at the edges made sure their feet were covered.

Craig ran back to the room, having seen the flash of light, only to see empty cages and Arthur standing in the middle of the room, his conjured chair knocked over, looking befuddled. “What happened?” he cried out.

“I really don’t know,” replied Arthur, sounding a little dazed. “Are they gone? I’m terribly sorry, I have spots in my vision,” he said, waving a hand in front of his own face.

“Merlin’s missing underpants!” Craig swore, running back out of the room.

Arthur made a small wave at the door and walked out, careful to go slow enough not to lose his little companions. They walked through hallways and into a small room that moved, Arthur muttering how lucky they were that the lifts were empty.

“I have to get back somewhere, but there’s a lady that will take you out of this building. Her name is Emmeline,” he said, just before the lift opened.

They moved onward, a lady eventually walking towards them. “Hello Arthur,” she said politely.

“Good morning Emmeline, how lovely to see you. I’m afraid I’m in a rush, I’m meant to be heading off somewhere as soon as I double-check where. Do take care now, won’t you?” he said, trying for a casual tone but not entirely succeeding. He gave her a shallow bow, slipping the secondary wand into her waiting hand.

“I certainly will. I’m just heading out of the Ministry as I have some errands to run,” she said with a careful emphasis, surreptitiously pocketing the wand. “Good day!”

“Good day!” came the reply as Arthur waved and walked away.

“Hello?” Emmeline whispered worriedly. A small tug on her clothes reassured her and she smiled. “Time to leave,” she said softly.

To help their alibi in case anyone had overheard or cared to check, Emmeline bundled them all awkwardly into the phone booth lift that was the visitor’s entrance to the Ministry. Once they emerged into London proper, she cleared her throat and strode off, hoping they were following her.

Rian had been thinking during the walk. The way Arthur Weasley had mentioned Death Eaters sounded like he not only acknowledged that they were out there, but that he was against them. That had been a deciding factor for Rian. He had a hunch it was better to go with Arthur than remain caged like animals for no reason. He only hoped his hunch proved right and he wasn’t leading everyone into something worse.

A few streets away Emmeline stopped and knelt down to adjust one of her shoes. “Are you still here?” she whispered, getting another tug in reply. “I’m going to leave to throw off anyone that may be watching us. There will be one more person who will take you to a safe house where you can stay. It will all be okay, don’t worry.”

She straightened up as another woman came closer, waving in recognition. This new woman was rather nondescript, but she seemed friendly.

“Sorry, I saw you from over there and had to make a detour to say a quick hello!” the newcomer cheerfully greeted, grabbing Emmeline’s hands and taking the wand that Emmeline had palmed moments before.

Emmeline shrugged and reclaimed her hands. “I can’t chat, so sorry. Errands to run, you know?”

“Of course, of course! I’m off to deliver something myself right now. We’ll have to catch up later, dear!”

“Naturally,” Emmeline replied smoothly. “Good luck with your delivery and good day.”

As the older woman left, the new one bent over to brush some dirt off her skirt, the wand already pocketed. “I’m Tonks. Is everyone here?” she whispered.

Rian once more tugged the nearest piece of clothing, as he’d been doing all of the times before.

“Excellent, follow me!” Tonks said with a wink and a grin, standing straight and walking off in a seemingly random direction. The walk was not short, but it didn’t feel overly long either, especially as they didn’t have to take back alleys and duck around fences. When Tonks did enter an alley Naia was ready to palm her dagger.

Tonks pulled a slip of paper out of a pocket and wiggled it around. “You all need to read this note and hand it back, quick as you can,” she whispered urgently.

Rian’s hand darted out from the cloth’s cover and snagged the paper. He held it in the middle of the group so the others could see it, but all of them shook their heads. None of them could read it, even Kylan. Rian drew it back and squinted at the spidery, loopy writing.

The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is at Number 12, Grimmauld Place

The Stonewood held out a hand to dreamfast and waved the note. Kylan took his hand, with Brea taking Kylan’s. Seladon followed, then Naia and Gurjin was last in the chain. Rian quickly dreamfasted the memory of the note as he understood the writing and read it. Once everyone knew what the note said, even if none of them knew what it meant, Rian handed the paper back to Tonks.

With a quick Incendio spell the paper was reduced to ash. Tonks led them across the road, to a building that was appearing out of nowhere and pushing the other buildings aside, though no one else apart from their group seemed to notice a thing. The Gelfling gasped, Seladon nearly tripping over the edge of the cloth as she stopped to gawk. Naia pulled her forward before the cloth exposed her feet and gave her a short push to keep her moving.

They came to the front door, which looked large and intimidating, and Tonks was about to ring the doorbell before she stopped herself and knocked instead, looking sheepish. They could hear some muffled noises coming from inside until some footsteps started becoming louder. They stopped and the door was opened a fraction, a figure in shadow peering out.

Chapter Text

The shadowed figure caught sight of Tonks and opened the door wide, ushering her inside. The figure kept waving and Tonks beckoned from beyond the doorway, so the invisible group of Gelfling entered the building. The shadowed figure slowly closed the door, obviously trying not to hit any of them with it.

With the door now shut, Brea looked around. They were in a rather dingy hallway. Very little natural light seemed to fall on this area and the effect was gloomy. She might even go so far as to call it depressing. It was dark, there were shadows everywhere that the small flame lights on the walls did little to dissipate, and the place felt all around uninviting.

There was enough light to reveal the shadowed figure, however. It was a plump woman with bright red hair, much like Arthur’s had been. She was wringing her hands and looking around anxiously, her eyes scanning the hallway fretfully.

“Right, you lot can take the invisibility cloak off now. You’re safe here,” Tonks announced quietly with a bright grin.

Rian passed on the message. Gurjin, who was at the edge, grabbed it tightly and whipped it over his own head, throwing it as far as he could until Brea pulled the last of the cloth away from herself and her sister. She bundled as much of it as she could in her arms and partly waddled closer to Tonks to hold it out.

Tonks swallowed her laughter and took the cloak. It was Moody’s and she knew he wanted it back as soon as possible. “Thanks,” she said.

“Oh my goodness!” the red-haired woman exclaimed, hands by her mouth. “Just look at the little dears!”

Even Tonks was taken aback now that she was actually looking. “Wow, nicest looking elves ever!” she burst out.

Rian’s eye twitched but only Kylan noticed. He wasn’t sure he wanted to ask about it either. Once he’d broken the dreamfast with Rian, just before they escaped the cages, he’d discovered he could no longer understand what any human was saying. A word or two would come across now and then, but distorted and garbled.

The red-haired woman stepped forward. “Where are my manners? I’m Molly Weasley, Arthur’s my husband. Let’s get out of the hallway and into the kitchen where we can have a proper chat, all right? This way, this way,” she said, keeping her voice down and bustling past them, urging them to follow.

Rian went first, determined to bear the brunt of anything bad that came their way. He'd brought them here. Their safety and well-being were his responsibility. Kylan and Brea were right behind him, while Seladon was walking stiffly in the middle as the Drenchen twins brought up the rear. Naia looked ready to pounce on the first unknown thing that came close enough and tear it to pieces.

The kitchen was much brighter and cleaner than the hallway and had an air of lived-in cosiness to it. It was clear that much time was spent in this room by those that lived here. Brea mentally sighed. If the hallway had been this clean and cosy it would feel much more inviting and give a far better first impression. The princess knew how important such things could be, even if she never practised them often. Her older sister must find this place utterly reproachable.

They were told to take a seat at the table. It was a little awkward as the Gelfling had to partly climb the large chairs, but they managed with dignity mostly intact. All six were sitting on the same side, the chairs moved a bit closer together than usual, and watching Molly as she went to and fro. Molly was gathering up an assortment of food and, with a flick of her stick, set the faucet over the sink to start flowing, rinsing off some of the food. How much could those sticks do?

Gurjin’s stomach grumbled softly. He’d had a bit of breakfast, but he couldn’t manage to eat much that came from the ones that kept them locked up. The Drenchen figured the others had felt the same as they’d adopted the same approach. This food he could see being cleaned and prepared was much more appetising.

“Wouldn’t it be nice if a Podling with a stacked cart came by?” he said wistfully.

Rian snorted and grinned before his expression morphed into something softer and sadder.

“I miss my lute,” Kylan said suddenly, garnering a few odd looks.

“I miss my lute too,” Rian said immediately after, getting even more odd looks, although Gurjin smiled knowingly.

“You can play lute?” the Spriton asked. His tone was eager, but sceptical, having trouble picturing the Stonewood as any sort of musician.

A light blush suffused Rian’s cheeks as his ears angled back. “Uh...forget you heard that,” he muttered quickly.

Gurjin chuckled, enjoying the moment. “He’s not too bad at it, you know,” he said, ignoring Rian’s gestures to shut up.

“I’d like to hear you play some time,” Kylan said with an earnest smile.

“Me too!” Brea chimed in.

Rian lightly groaned but was saved from answering by a rather large platter that was placed on the table. The platter was heaped full of small triangular things that gave off enough scents to tickle the nose enticingly. Rian’s stomach growled. Unlike the others, he hadn’t eaten or drunk anything while caged, despite Kylan’s efforts earlier that morning, except for a few bites and a small drink. He didn’t reach for anything though, the others hesitating as well.

Tonks strode through the door and headed straight for the platter, plucking one of the triangles from the pile and shoving it in her mouth.

“Tonks!” Molly’s voice cracked like a whip, startling the younger woman into choking briefly on a mouthful. “Those sandwiches are for our guests! Goodness knows how badly they’ve been treated at the Ministry and if they’ve had a decent meal in that time.”

The young Auror hastily downed the tea sandwich and gave an apologetic grin. “Sorry Mrs Weasley. Have you seen Sirius? I need to return his wand.”

“No, not since breakfast,” Molly answered, turning around to hide her frown. She knew Sirius Black was not the criminal he’d been accused of being. The man was innocent when it came to the Potter’s betrayal, but Sirius himself still rubbed Molly the wrong way. He may be innocent, but all those years in Azkaban had done something nonetheless, leaving Molly convinced that he wasn’t quite all together in the head.

Tonks sighed heavily and placed the wand Arthur had used near the head of the table on her way to the door. “I’m just going to leave it here because I don’t have time to search the house. Bye!” With a quick wave she was gone.

Seeing her eat from the platter was good enough for Gurjin and he lunged forward, grabbing one and taking a bite before Naia could stop him. A happy hum escaped him as he chewed and he eagerly reached for another, oblivious to the pleased expression Molly was now sporting at his appreciation and enthusiasm.

The others began following suit with varying degrees of caution. Kylan grabbed two and held one out for Rian. His brown eyes were patient, but stern, and he smiled when Rian took the offering. He kept his gaze trained on the soldier until he bit into the food, then Kylan turned his attention to his own triangular shaped meal.

The platter slowly emptied as the Gelfling sated their hunger with food that tasted better than anything they’d tried while caged. Gurjin slumped back and patted his stomach after finishing off half a dozen in quick succession. Seladon discreetly brushed any crumbs into a tiny pile. Brea, thoroughly amused by this, gleefully added her own crumbs to it, earning her a flat stare followed by an eye roll once the elder sister was sure their host wasn’t looking.

Naia was itching for some privacy. Just for some time where no humans were in the room watching them, covertly or otherwise. She wasn’t sure if anyone in this building would be able to understand them and she didn’t want to take the chance. Any plans made among the Gelfling she wanted to keep among the Gelfling, no matter how nice some of these humans may seem.

Molly scooped up the now empty platter. “Would you like more?” she asked kindly. “And something to drink? Any preferences?”

Rian relayed the questions. He waited not so patiently for all of the answers and focused on trying to remember it all. He haltingly repeated it in English, hoping he didn’t forget anything. “No more food, thank you, but drinks would be appreciated. Uh...cold water, something fruity if you have it, and...whatever is a popular local drink…?” He eyed Brea, who only shrugged and smiled helplessly.

Molly looked just as surprised by his speech as her husband had. She recovered swiftly and started bustling about again with assurances that she would do her best.

“We have some butterbeer if you’re up for having a good time or drowning your sorrows,” said an amused man as he walked into the kitchen. He knew house-elves couldn’t handle the drink and that was the only frame of reference he had.

The man looked a bit scruffy, with shoulder-length hair that didn’t look brushed. His clothes were ill-fitting and hung a little off his frame, which seemed thin. He looked like he’d been through an ordeal and hadn’t quite found his feet yet. His grey eyes were bright and his smile was genuine, despite the overall impression he gave.

Rian didn’t think the All-Maudra would like it if he let her little sister get drunk, no matter how funny he would personally find it. Well, if they weren’t around any humans anyway. “No, something without...side effects,” he said firmly.

Sirius raised his eyebrows but nodded. “Ah, well, if you’re sure. Let me know if you change your mind,” he said with a wink, completely ignoring Molly’s disapproving stare and huff. “In that case, you’ll have to go with pumpkin juice. The staple drink for all young people that go to Hogwarts.”

Rian had no idea what a pumpkin was, but it didn’t sound alcoholic so he agreed. If Brea didn’t like it then it’d be her own fault for not being more specific. Unless it was toxic. Then it would be his fault as the only one currently capable of speaking the human language. He internally sighed and wondered if it was worth it for the others to dreamfast with a magic human and see if they ended up capable of freely communicating too.

“Perfect,” Sirius said, picking up the abandoned wand and examining it. “I’ll erase the evidence shortly. Can’t be too careful and all that, plus it’ll give me something to do,” he muttered the last part under his breath.

“Excuse me, would you mind finding the children and telling them to come down for lunch in about ten minutes?” Molly asked Sirius cordially.

Sirius nodded as he got a comfortable grip on his wand, planning to cast some cleaning spells along the way. “Not a problem,” he replied, striding out the door.

Molly started putting cups out for her newest guests, taking care to point out which cup contained what drink. She took a deep breath before saying, “There are a number of people staying here, including some of my children and a couple of their friends. They were only told we had a plan to rescue you, so they may be a bit startled to see you all here. They’re only children, they’re young and they may pester you. They mean well, but please do let me know if they’re bothering you.”

Rian passed along the correct drinks to whoever wanted them, passing along Molly’s words as well. He carefully slid the cup of pumpkin juice to Brea. “He called it pumpkin juice and said all the young ones at some place drink it, but that’s all I know.”

Seladon sniffed, staring down her nose at the orange liquid her sister was cradling. She was satisfied with plain water, having less to fear from such a common liquid. Even the water from humans had been safe, so she felt justified in her choice. Unfortunately for her anxiety she had been unable to convince Brea to do the same. The next maudra-to-be of the Drenchen clan had done the same thing and stuck to water. Seladon felt glad that she could rely on Naia to be smart about such things at least.

“Childlings, huh?” Gurjin said, pondering on Molly’s forwarded words. He hadn’t exactly enjoyed the last encounter with one and hoped that, this time, nothing would be thrown. The water bomb hadn’t really hurt, but he didn’t like the idea of anyone throwing anything at his friends like that. The next projectile he jumped in front of might not be so harmless.

The Stonewood sipped his water. He was not looking forward to playing translator and wondered again if having the others dreamfast would be worth it. If he wasn’t around or was unconscious, the others would essentially be stuck unless they dreamfasted anyway. He sighed internally, watching Kylan sip down ‘something fruity’. Gurjin had the same drink and seemed to be greatly enjoying it while Kylan was more reserved. He saw Brea shrug and taste her drink. The princess pulled a face at first, but continued drinking, leaving Rian to shake his head. Part of him felt like asking for one of those alcoholic drinks the man had mentioned.

Before he could think about it too much, a clatter of footsteps heralded the arrival of a number of new humans. Four had red hair and were obviously Molly and Arthur’s childlings; two older boys that were identical, a younger boy that was gangly and covered in freckles, and a younger girl. With them were a black haired boy wearing large spectacles and a girl with bushy brown hair. All six froze in the kitchen when they caught sight of the Gelfling at the table, not that the Gelfling were faring much better.

The one with black hair had shockingly green eyes, the most vivid colouring they’d seen for any human yet. Those green eyes swept over them slowly, sparkling with recognition as they alighted upon Rian, making the Stonewood cock his head slightly in confusion. The boy pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and hastily sat across from Rian, unfolding the paper carefully and sliding it over.

Rian caught an edge and pulled it close, wondering what got the human so worked up. Kylan leaned over to peek and both Gelfling gasped at the drawing on the paper.

“Deet!” Rian breathed, his fingers ghosting over the illustration. It was beautifully done, but Deet looked so small, so scared, so helpless… He looked at the human. “Where…?” was all he managed, but it seemed to be enough.

“I don’t know,” the boy replied with a scowl, his tone upset. “I only saw her in a vision.”

“A vision?” Rian parroted. His eyes widened and he smacked his palm on the table a couple of times. The others focused on him and he stood on the chair to make sure they could all see and hear him perfectly.

Gurjin, who was on the other end of the line of Gelfling, gave him a signal to go ahead.

“This human has seen Deet in a vision,” he blurted out in a rush. While the others tried to understand this, he took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “I think we should all dreamfast and see this vision. It’s the biggest and kind of only lead we’ve had about her.”

“We’ll need to move,” Naia said in a straightforward manner.

Seladon raised a hand. “Wait a moment, has this human agreed to share the vision through a dreamfast?”

That brought Rian up short and he sheepishly glanced back at the bespectacled boy, who was frowning and tilting his head like he was trying to listen to something. “Excuse me, will you share your vision with us?”

“In a...dreamfast, right? I don’t know what that is,” he replied.

“Can you understand us?” Rian asked, ears moving forward a touch.

The boy put a hand to his chin. “Sort of? It comes and goes.” He didn’t get the chance to say anything else as the girl with bushy brown hair practically zipped to his side, looking at Rian eagerly.

“You can actually understand any of their language, Harry? How? What’s a dreamfast?” she asked quickly, switching her target from the boy, apparently named Harry, to Rian part way through.

It was like being confronted by a very happy, but very drunk Podling that didn’t care who it was talking to as long as there was someone to direct its energy at. “It’s a Gelfling mystic art,” he answered. While true, his answer gave no information away about the actual process.

“How do I do this thing then?” Harry inquired, ignoring the girl.

“You just sit there and we’ll do the rest,” Rian said with a grin. He clambered onto the table, the others following at various speeds. Seladon looked supremely reluctant.

Rian shuffled right near Harry with Kylan a comfortable distance away, the others adjusting their positions until they formed a rough circle. Gurjin, now directly across from his best friend, raised his hands upright, palms facing out; one toward his sister and the other toward Harry. Rian did the same. All the Gelfling linked hands, Brea beaming in excitement, and Rian wiggled his fingers at Harry.

The black haired boy got the idea and reached out. The girl right next to him and Molly both called out warnings, but there was nothing they could do as Harry’s palms met those of Gurjin and Rian. The others closed their eyes and Rian nodded encouragingly at Harry before doing the same.

Knowing exactly what to do by now, Rian easily found the fire that was Harry. It was warm and bright, similar to Craig and yet completely different in a myriad of ways. He coaxed the others close and dove in, guiding them along the way.

Chapter Text

Harry heard Hermione and Mrs Weasley calling out, telling him to stop, but he was far too curious to pay them any heed. He’d been intrigued by the...Gelfling? from the moment he’d seen them. All of them had seemed familiar in a vague way, but the one on the end he fully recognised. That was the one he’d seen holding the sword with two blades in Deet’s memories in his vision. The way he’d reacted to the drawing was soft, sweet and full of longing. He obviously wanted her back and Harry wanted to help however he could. Harry was glad to have a name for her at least.

Listening to them had been much like Voldemort listening to Deet - a radio that wasn’t tuned properly, making things sound distorted. The words fluctuated, sometimes tuning out entirely. Harry just knew that hearing them talk long enough would lead to a massive headache, but he didn’t know how to fix it. Perhaps if he asked, one of them might know?

His palms met two smaller ones and he let his eyelids slide closed. It only took a moment before he felt something brush against something deep inside himself. It was nothing like the feeling of a Dementor’s Kiss, where that integral something was slipping away as everything went cold and dark. It was like that integral something shook metaphorical hands with another integral something and, now that they’d met, they could get to know one another.

He sunk into his own mind, or soul, he wasn’t sure. He could feel the Gelfling as bright flames, hovering at the periphery of his being, waiting for him to let them in somehow. Harry felt the one he recognised reach out.

“Harry, you need to focus on the memory of the vision you had,” the sword wielder said. “Let the memory play and we will all see it.”

The Boy-Who-Lived couldn’t exactly nod, so he just did his best to follow the simple instructions. He recalled the way the vision had started - a bland room with only two cloaked people, a curtained window, a desk with a chair and an unconscious figure on the desk with pale hair and green skin shot through with violet veins. He did his best to remember every detail he could, finding it surprisingly easy.

As the memory went on, Harry could tell the Gelfling were reacting. He could feel flashes of emotions that weren’t his. When Voldemort rummaged through Deet’s mind he felt all of them recoil in shock and horror. Screams of violations rang out and Harry paused the memory until the furore died down. He could feel anger and disgust thick in the air, if there even was air in this place. When everything was quiet again, he picked up from where he left off.

When the memory was over everything faded out and he could suddenly feel two small hands slipping away from his. He sucked in a breath and opened his eyes, immediately spotting all the Gelfling in various states of upset. His face was grabbed and turned to the side, where he met the worried gaze of Mrs Weasley.

“Harry, dear, are you all right? Harry? Can you hear me?” she asked, barely stopping to breathe.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he managed to say between her panicked inquiries.

“How dare that monster do such a thing?!” Naia said, her voice little more than an angry snarl.

Gurjin, sitting on his sister’s left, didn’t move. Seladon, sitting on her right, edged away, closer to her own sister. Naia was certainly living up to her title and no one wanted to throw a rock into that spitter’s nest.

“We’ll find her and we’ll get her back,” Rian said, his voice strong and determined.

Kylan nodded, his expression grim before it lightened as he looked at Harry. “Thank you for sharing,” he said, hoping Harry understood the gist of it.

Harry understood all of it. The radio had been tuned and he could hear them with perfect clarity. He was grateful for all the potential headaches he was saved from and for the ability to talk freely with them. “You’re welcome,” he replied, nodding at Kylan. “I guess you already know my name is Harry, but can you tell me your names?”

Brea grinned widely, finally getting the chance she wanted. “I’m Brea and this is my sister, Seladon,” she gushed, gesturing to her older sister.

“My name is Kylan,” the Spriton said.

“I’m Gurjin and this is my sister, Naia. You’re going to frighten the childlings with that face,” the Drenchen soldier stated, directing the latter half of his speech to his still-scowling sibling.

She punched him in the arm, making him yelp and retreat closer to Harry.

Rian ran a hand down his face. “I’m Rian. Kylan’s right, thank you for sharing. Those two in the cloaks, I’m positive those two are the ones I saw taking Deet.”

“You saw the Death Eaters? Avery and Nott?” Harry asked, his attention now on the Stonewood. “Where?”

“I can show you,” Rian said, offering his hand. His outstretched hand was suddenly batted down and his shoulders were jerked backwards. He let out a tiny oof and tilted his head back, meeting Naia’s eyes; so like her brother’s yet so different, as she stood behind him.

“Oh, no you don’t,” she said firmly, her hands moving from his shoulders to just below his ears, her fingertips splayed from his temples to his cheeks. “You’ve done enough for the moment.”

“But-” his protest was cut off as Naia’s hands started glowing blue with wispy energy.

Naia’s eyelids fell halfway shut as she focused, directing her energy to seek out any injuries. She found a few negligible scratches here and there, the extensive bruising the salve had done a fair job of healing - they weren’t gone, but they had gone through several days worth of healing in one - the graze on his face, the hole in the side of his left hand, his aching ribs he’d kept quiet about, and his ankle. They hadn’t had time to grab his boots, so the Stonewood had been barefoot the whole time during their escape.

The glow disappeared and the energy faded, leaving Naia to stare at him like a mother that caught her childling doing something they shouldn’t. “Later,” she said, making it sound like a threat and a promise rolled into one. She’d only done a quick scan. Anything else and she wanted privacy from the humans. She hadn’t wanted to show any of her powers in front of them, but she didn’t want to take the chance that Rian would wriggle away from her later.

The soldier resisted the urge to gulp and merely nodded, feeling Naia’s fingers slide across his scalp and through his hair briefly as she moved away, seemingly uncaring that she was walking all over their host’s table. Not that he’d cared when he’d scrambled over it first on hands and knees, so he couldn’t really judge her for it when he started it.

His sister’s reaction left Gurjin anxious about what she’d found that he couldn’t see. Rian had a terrible habit of hiding things and trying to tough stuff out on his own. It drove Gurjin to despair sometimes. With Mira gone, the only one left who knew Rian’s tells well enough was Gurjin, so it fell to him to keep the Stonewood out of trouble however he could. Now that they were properly reunited and not just caged on opposite sides of the same room, he resolved to keep a closer eye on his reckless friend.

“What was that?” the brown haired girl asked. “What happened, Harry? What did you do? What was that glow?”

Harry had been watching Naia and Rian in fascination. Hermione’s rapid fire questions drew his attention away and he turned to see her standing there, looking eager and worried, her eyes flicking between him and the Gelfling. “I shared my memory of the vision with them, that’s all. I have no idea about the glow though, you’ll have to ask...Naia, was it?” he said, blinking bemusedly between his best female friend and the angry female Gelfling.

Naia’s ears gently flicked as they picked up the human language and it made sense. She gave Harry a little affirmative noise and edged around Brea as the Vapran was almost bouncing in place, having noticed the language barrier dissolving.

Brea scooted closer to Harry and the girl, clasping her hands together. “Do you have one of those sticks that can do things? What are they called? Can I have one?”

Harry blinked. “There’s two of them,” he muttered with a groan, rubbing little circles on his temples with his fingertips.

The Stonewood quickly stifled his snickers even as Seladon lightly tugged on Brea’s long hair as a gentle reprimand. She was duly ignored, Brea only shaking her head to free her long hair from Seladon’s grip.

“Yes, I have one. It’s not a stick, it’s a wand, and no, you can’t have one,” answered Harry, garnering chuckles from the Weasley boys nearby, particularly the twins.

Brea huffed and made an aborted move to cross her arms. “But why not?” she whined, sounding very childish.

The All-Maudra gave up on her sister. She stood and walked over to where Molly was filling up another platter with sandwiches. “Excuse me,” she said loftily, pleased when Molly jumped and spun around at the sound of the human language. “Do you have a place where we could freshen up and rest? We have not had the chance to do so in some time.”

The Weasley matriarch went through several expressions, finally settling on concern and compassion, though it came across as pity. “Yes, yes, of course. If you’ll all follow me, I’ll take you to the bathroom first,” she said, finishing the platter and levitating it onto the table. As her children dug in, she led the Gelfling, Seladon and Rian dragging Brea away from Harry and his friend, to a room that bore only a passing resemblance to the Skeksis’ bathing chamber.

“If you need anything, just call for Kreacher,” she said, stepping away from the bathroom. “If Kreacher refuses to cooperate, you’ll need to find Sirius. He’s the one that told you about pumpkin juice. Feel free to find me in the kitchen for anything else.”

“Thank you,” Seladon said sincerely with a little bow that was aped by Brea. Everyone else mumbled their thanks and Molly left, leaving them to figure out the strange fixtures in the room by themselves.

“It’s like being back at the castle, where nothing is Gelfling sized,” Gurjin griped, wandering over to stand beside a large claw-foot tub.

Kylan gave an imperceptible shudder. “No Skeksis though,” he said lightly.

“Definitely an improvement in that regard,” said Naia, shutting the door and marching over to Rian. She grabbed his shoulders and pushed down, slowly forcing him to sit. Once he was seated, she pulled his injured leg closer and let his right ankle rest in her lap as she sat cross-legged. Naia put her hands on the ankle and they lit up blue as she let her healing magic go to work.

While his sister worked, Gurjin scrambled into the tub and examined the taps at the end closest to the wall. He felt like he was back in skekTek's lab, only this time Rian wasn't hissing at him not to touch anything. With both his best friend and sister occupied, Gurjin decided to take the opportunity to poke at whatever he pleased. He grabbed one tap and turned it. Well, he tried to turn it, but it proved harder than he thought and didn’t budge. He tried again, putting some effort behind it, and was rewarded with a slight trickle of water that dribbled into the tub.

Fascinated by this, he turned the tap further and watched as the trickle of water became a steady stream. He stuck his other hand under the water only to pull it back at the heat. “This water is heated!” he said in excitement. He’d heard of the hot springs at Ha’rar and always wanted to try it. If he could plug up the tub, he could create his own personal hot spring.

“Really?” Brea asked, bouncing over to peek over the rim of the tub. She reached her arm out, marvelling as hot water ran over her fingers. She pulled them back quickly as the heat started to hurt. “It’s a bit too hot,” she commented.

The Drenchen hummed at that assessment, turning the other tap. The stream of water almost instantly lost some of its heat and Gurjin grinned, wagging his brows at the princess and getting a giggle in return. There was a second set of taps set higher up that he could just reach. He turned the lower set off and reached up, turning the higher set. Water appeared from higher up like heavy rain, soaking him. He swiftly turned the taps back off and spluttered.

Gurjin and Brea stared at each other for several seconds before bursting into laughter.

Kylan shook his head with a smile and went over to find a way to plug up the tub. A nice soak in warm water sounded like a gift straight from the Sanctuary Tree and he wouldn’t mind indulging.

Seladon decided to explore the sink and found the same hot and cold tap arrangement that the tub possessed. When she got the water comfortably warm, with far less fuss than Gurjin, she splashed some on her face and hands, scrubbing as best she could. All she wanted at the moment was to feel clean again.

“Aha!” Kylan exclaimed triumphantly. He held the bathtub’s plug on a chain aloft in one hand like a long lost treasure. “Get out of there, Gurjin. Ladies first.”

“My hero,” the younger Vapran said dramatically, pretending to swoon.

“Yeah, yeah,” Gurjin grumbled in a joking way, heaving himself over the edge of the tub. He looked down at his wet clothing, then over at Brea. “What about clean or dry clothes?”

Seladon flicked some excess water off her hands. “Weren’t we told to call Kreacher?”

“Kreacher?” Gurjin repeated.

A crack startled all of them, even jolting Naia from her healing trance. Before them stood an aged, stooped figure in a ratty old piece of ragged cloth that served as a tunic of sorts. The figure was about Gelfling height, with a long, thinnish nose, a bald head with some wispy white hair, almost skeletal limbs and large, thick ears that drooped from the sides of the head, seemingly under their own weight.

“Who calls Kreacher?” the figure asked in a scratchy but malevolent tone.

“I did,” Gurjin said hesitantly, raising a hand gingerly.

Kreacher sniffed, his watery eyes assessing everything in the bathroom. “Who are you? What are you? Who let you in?” he asked, rapid fire.

Seladon frowned for a moment and stepped closer, waiting until Kreacher was looking at her. “We are Gelfling, we are here as guests and we were let in by humans called Tonks and Molly. What are you?”

“The brat of one of the disgraces and the mother of the blood traitor brood,” Kreacher sneered. “I am the house-elf that serves the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black. Kreacher is loyal to the House of Black, yes he is. What do you want?” he snapped.

Seladon took a deep breath and puffed herself up, standing tall and unfurling her wings to their full glory. “I am All-Maudra, the leader of all Gelfling! How dare you speak to me in such a tone!”

Kreacher paused and gave her a once over, assessing her. “You lead? So what?” he said, sounding less snarky as he brazenly ogled her wings.

Seladon noticed the change. “I am, in terms you might understand, a queen. My younger sister there is a princess of our people,” she said, indicating Brea. Brea drew on all her courtly experience and training, straightening up and looking as regal as she could.

The house-elf nodded at the others. “What about them?”

“They are heroes of our people,” the All-Maudra smoothly replied. “They assisted my family greatly in helping to rid our people of beings that do not belong among us.”

This seemed to spark something within Kreacher and he looked at Seladon with respect before bowing. “Kreacher understands and Kreacher will serve the royal family and their heroes while in the House of Black. What is it you called Kreacher for?”

Seladon smiled smugly for a moment, revelling in her victory, before she wiped the expression from her face in case Kreacher looked up. “We wish to bathe, in turns, but have no clean or dry clothing to wear,” she said simply, adding just the right amount of disdain to her voice.

“Kreacher can clean and dry clothing very quickly! You leave clothing on the floor and will collect while Gelfling in bath. Kreacher will collect and clean and deliver it where dropped before you leave bath. Kreacher can move only clothes, no need to enter room. Would never intrude on Gelfling privacy,” he said, still bowing, but now wringing his hands. “Will bring clean towel for each one, too, yes.”

“That sounds acceptable. I will wait and see how good your service is and I hope, for your sake, that you do not disappoint,” Seladon said with finality, causing Kreacher to nod frantically and disappear with a soft pop.

“Dear Thra,” Kylan said shakily with one hand on his chest as he eyed her with equal parts respect and wariness.

There was a soft thunk as Rian’s head met the floor, as he was now laying down. He chuckled at the All-Maudra’s performance before frowning in thought as he felt Naia manipulate his ankle. There was almost no pain, just a lingering sense of discomfort. He had no time to thank her though before she placed his foot on the floor.

“I’m going to heal your ribs before you bathe, got it?” she said sternly.

“Got it,” Rian repeated.

“I think our distinguished All-Maudra should get the first bath,” Gurjin said with a grin.

Seladon sighed, her gaze roving over the claw-foot structure. “It’s big enough for us to go three by three, girls then boys. I don’t like the idea of anyone being anywhere alone in this place, no matter how nice that Molly has been.”

“I second that,” Naia spoke up, already chivying her brother out the door.

Rian and Kylan caught the not so subtle hint and left the room without being herded, Rian quite happy not to be limping anymore, meeting Gurjin in the hallway and shutting the door carefully behind them. They heard the water start running and sat down to guard the door. The Stonewood unwound the bandage on his ankle and started playing with it. It might be a bit of a wait.

Chapter Text

Any awkwardness about nudity was completely nullified by the bliss of settling into the wonderfully warm water. It soothed sore muscles and let them relax. For several minutes the two Vaprans and the Drenchen did nothing but sit there and enjoy the luxurious experience. There was a soft pop at some point and Brea informed them that their clothes were gone, but none of them really cared if that Kreacher fellow took a bit of time.

They’d actually started scrubbing by the time they heard a second pop. All three piles of clothes had been returned, neatly folded. Beside each pile was a folded, fluffy towel. Once they deemed themselves sufficiently clean, they pulled the plug and climbed out.

Seladon grabbed the towel and unfolded it, running her fingers over the strange texture of the cloth. It was very soft and she wrapped it around herself, instantly cuddling into it and sighing in happiness. The All-Maudra dried her hands quickly before running her hands over her clothes. They were perfectly dry and seemed wonderfully clean. Seladon was pleased.

The three were quickly dried and dressed, but unsure what to do with the now damp towels. Seladon flicked her ears.

“Kreacher?” she called.

The house-elf appeared and bowed low. “What can Kreacher do for you?” he asked with reverence.

“Your service has proven to be worthy,” Seladon announced, watching as Kreacher shivered at her words. “We would like you to take these back and make sure the others receive the same service.”

Kreacher looked up then and saw the towels, now being held out. He nodded enthusiastically. “Of course, your Majesty! Kreacher is happy to serve the Gelfling!” he said, clicking his fingers and making the towels vanish.

“Very good, Kreacher. Your efforts are appreciated.”

The old house-elf bowed low again, his nose almost touching the floor. “Most kind to this unworthy one you are. So noble! Kreacher is honoured to serve ones such as you. Much better than the humans in this place, oh yes! Kreacher will go prepare so he is ready!” Off he went, vanishing into thin air just like the towels.

“I’m honestly not sure I want to know…” Brea muttered, looking confused and lost as she stared at the empty spot where Kreacher had been.

“Send the boys in. I need to heal Rian again,” stated Naia as she sat on the floor.

The Vaprans did as instructed and ushered the boys into the room, shutting the door behind them. Rian padded over to Naia, ears low and angled back, and sat before her, trying not to fidget with his fingers. She gave him a look and he sighed, removing his belt and tunic. Half naked now, he hunched in on himself a little self-consciously.

The bruising was no longer dark and angry looking, but had turned a mix of green and yellow. Naia was pleased with this as it made her job easier. She bade him to turn around and scooted closer when he complied, laying her hands on either side of his rib cage. He flinched a bit at the sudden touch but became still when Naia’s hands lit up and her energy seeped through his skin, targeting the worst sources of pain.

“Did you hurt your ribs when you hurt your ankle?” Gurjin asked, sitting in front of his best friend to provide what support he could.

Rian shook his head. “Whatever brought us here must have dropped me out of the sky. After I woke up, I discovered I’d landed on some big rock. It’s how I got this, too,” he said, waving a hand over his grazed cheek. “I got this just after I hurt my ankle,” he continued, showing Gurjin the odd, sticky bandage covering half of his left hand.

“What happened there?” the Drenchen inquired, grabbing Rian’s wrist and examining the plaster.

“A splinter,” the Stonewood said evasively. At Gurjin’s sceptical look, he said, “A really big splinter? ...I punched through a wooden plank. Satisfied?”

Gurjin whistled, impressed. He started peeling the plaster off and Rian let him. Gurjin had a bit of fun playing with the leftover stickiness before he pulled the plaster off far enough to expose the wound. There was a fair amount of dried blood and the wound itself was not the prettiest sight, although it was not infected at least.

“How big was this...splinter?”

At Gurjin’s question, Rian held his fingers not quite three inches apart, recalling how shocked he’d been that he hadn’t felt such a large bit of wood stab into him. Gurjin asked how much had gone into his hand and Rian moved his fingers until they were about half an inch apart, making Gurjin whistle again.

“Naia can heal that easily when she’s done with your ribs,” remarked the taller soldier.

“I can, but I won’t,” she said as the glow faded. She patted Rian’s back and stood up.

“Why not?” asked her brother, nonplussed.

Naia only shrugged. “Because he did that to himself. I’ll fix accidents and battle wounds, but not stupidity,” she said casually, following the royal family out of the room and letting the door click shut.

“I can see her point, but I had to do it,” Rian grumbled, frowning at his left hand.

“Come on, a hot bath will make us all feel better,” Kylan said with a smile.

Stone-in-the-Wood was a scene of chaos. Even the great battle that had taken place there a couple of days ago felt more organised and contained. Gelfling were crisscrossing every which way, dodging each other, the occasional fizzgig rolling by and even the odd arathim scuttling around.

Aughra had commandeered the main chamber that possessed the chair where the Stonewood maudra held court. The Rascal Hole was empty and the numerous ropes and lights that Rian had brought down during an escape had been refilled and rehung. Aughra did not fit in the elevated chair, so she sat on the floor and used it as a backrest.

Her normal remaining eye was shut. Her third eye, open and glowing on her forehead, indicated that the prophet was seeing things no one else could. Perhaps a Sifa Far-Dreamer could catch glimpses of what Aughra was seeing, but only one being could see all the paths of Thra. Even a Far-Dreamer could only see a few steps along a handful of paths and it was an exhausting process the more you tried to see.

Mother Aughra had been frantically searching the paths for any sign of any of the Heroes of Thra. No matter what path she checked or how far she looked down them, there was no trace of Brave Rian, Gentle Deet, Fierce Naia, Gurjin, Clever Brea, Loyal Seladon or Wise Kylan.

Surely they couldn’t all be dead so soon after the battle?

If they were, the searchers could find bodies at least. Unless they had been captured and drained. Such a process left no body behind, only some dust. But Aughra would have seen such a path if they’d walked it. The only thing Aughra could see down any path now was ruin and decay, darkness and despair, interwoven through with the vicious purple lightning of the Darkening.

Now and then a Gelfling would enter the hall to report. It was never what the crone wanted to hear. There were no signs. They had found nothing. Nothing to indicate a scuffle, it was like they’d all just vanished.

A Stonewood warrior entered, panting as though they’d run a mile. “Mother Aughra!” she gasped out.

The third eye’s glow dimmed until it was gone entirely and Aughra opened her normal eye to peer at the guard. “Yes? What is it? Better be good!”

“We found a small section of the woods some distance away where it seems the Darkening was concentrated,” the guard said after a quick salute.

“Darkening is spreading all over. Not so unusual. Is that it?” Aughra demanded huffily.

The guard shook her head, her eyes wide. “This spot is different! The Darkening not only killed the small plants it touched, it warped a number of branches and other things into a spiral sort of wall. We found this on the village side of the wall,” she said, stepping forward and holding out a hand.

Aughra’s brows rose and she held out both hands, confused when the guard seemed to drop nothing into them. She leaned in, bringing her hands close to her face, and saw several strands of hair. Closer examination revealed the hairs were mostly dark brown, but a couple were blue near the roots. She sniffed them carefully.

“Rian!” she exclaimed.

“That’s what we thought too,” the guard said with a nod, pleased to be proven correct.

The crone carefully tucked the hairs away in a little pouch. “Found nothing else?” she asked almost frantically.

“No, Mother Aughra,” the guard replied, her tone full of disappointment. “Once we found the hairs we made sure to scour that part of the woods thoroughly, but only found a couple of faint footprints on the other side of the wall. They were small and we think they belong to the Grottan girl. They just...stopped after a point though, so she either started flying from the ground with no boost or vanished like the others.”

Aughra was silent for a long moment and the guard had to fight the urge to shuffle their feet.

“You have done well,” she said at last. “Go rest now.”

“Thank you, Mother Aughra,” the guard said, giving a quick bow and leaving the hall.

The prophet dearly wished she was in her observatory, surrounded by her books and scrolls. Either that, or they were here in the Stonewood clan’s main hall. Perhaps she could use Rian’s hair to try and divine where he was. Some help might be nice, too. If there were any Sifa still around, maybe she was lucky enough that even one Far-Dreamer would be present.

She got up and flagged down the nearest Gelfling, instructing them to see if a Sifa Far-Dreamer was around. If one was found, Aughra wanted to see them right away. The Gelfling agreed and ran off, on the lookout for the Sifa clan’s signature red hair.

The Heroes of Thra needed to be found or, soon enough, there would be no Thra.

All six Gelfling stuck together in a group once they moved away from the bathroom. Their hair dripped everywhere, despite their best efforts to towel it dry. Brea and Seladon had not undone their braids or anything as it was rather fiddly to redo parts of their hairstyles. Naia and Gurjin simply didn’t need to and didn’t care about having wet hair. Rian had undone the one part of his hair that was tied at the back while Kylan had just shrugged and taken apart all of his braids.

He looked quite different with his hair down, closely resembling Rian. The Stonewood had been interested to find a streak of green running through Kylan’s black hair starting above his left ear. It was much easier to spot with his hair hanging loose instead of pulled tight. Kylan knew Rian had seen it, but the Stonewood didn’t ask, which Kylan was very grateful for, and he offered no explanation of his own volition.

The girls had been startled by the change as well, even Naia. The only thing they said was a promise to help do the boys’ hair when it was dry later, even Seladon.

Kylan smiled warmly at this, feeling much more at home with this motley group of Gelfling from all over than he ever had at Sami Thicket.

This, Rian thought, was part of the unity skekGra and urGoh had spoken of at the Circle of the Suns. It wasn’t all the Gelfling, and they were missing Deet, but their group proved that Gelfling were Gelfling and could come together no matter what clan they hailed from. Once the Skeksis were gone, Thra would be a very different place for the Gelfling as clan lines would likely be crossed, blurred and possibly even erased.

The Stonewood was not happy to be roaming around a big, dark, creepy building again. At least he knew this one was not abandoned and therefore likely not rotting, despite the general uncleanliness that could be seen here and there. It was obvious that parts of the house had been cleaned. Maybe the humans hadn’t gotten around to cleaning the rest yet?

“Should we go back to the kitchen?” Kylan asked after a couple of minutes of fruitless wandering.

“And drip all over the kitchen floor?” Seladon asked in reply, scandalised.

“Hello there, little rescuees!” said a chipper voice.

“Would you be willing to talk to us for a short while? We know you can speak English,” said a voice virtually identical to the first, but coming from a slightly different direction.

Two of the red haired childlings came into view. It was the pair that looked identical and they were eyeing the group of Gelfling speculatively. The pair stood loosely, as though they’d just stopped during a pleasant walk in the countryside, but there was a tenseness there. A twitch of a finger, the shift of a pose, the subtle way their heads would move to check for anyone coming up behind them.

Rian stepped forward, one hand waving the others to stay back. “And why should we do that?” he asked in English. It was nice to have a name for the human’s language. He stood in a casual parade rest, arms behind his back, ready to signal Gurjin.

The one on the left gave a tiny shrug. “We just want to get to know you better.”

The one on the right nodded. “We can also answer questions you might have about us and this place.”

“I can’t imagine you were told all that much when you were brought here, right?” asked the left most twin.

Rian tilted his head slightly, shifting his weight to one foot. “Here’s a question for you. What are your names?” he asked as though inquiring about the weather.

Brea raised a brow as her ears came forward, but Seladon and Naia each tugged on a sleeve and she backed down before she could even open her mouth.

“I’m Fred,” said the one on the left.

“I’m George,” said the other.

The Stonewood nodded and rolled his shoulders. “I’m Rian, if Harry didn’t tell you. Why don’t we talk here? We’ve already started,” he pointed out. He didn’t miss the quick glance they shared and he frowned, the action hidden by his thick fringe and unnoticed by the twins. His ears angled back by a finger-width and he heard Gurjin shuffle into a better position.

“You see,” started George in a lowered voice, “most of the adults in charge here treat us as though we’re barely old enough to dress ourselves.”

“They don’t like us knowing things because they’re trying to shelter us,” continued Fred.

George sighed and shook his head. “If our mother found us talking to you, she’d go on about how we’re bothering you and chase us off while she herds you away to where she can keep an eye on you.”

“She’d do that even if we were asking what kind of weather you like the best,” Fred said with a frown. He looked quite put out.

“We’re sure she’s given you some sort of warning about us...ahem...children...bothering you,” George said, rolling his eyes at the word children.

Kylan was reminded heavily of Sami Thicket. The words of Maudra Mera and the other Spriton bounced around his mind. Don’t share that. Nobody wants to know about it. Why are you so weird? Spriton are more action than talk! Don’t talk to her! Our maudra shouldn’t bother with you.

It seemed as though Molly tried to manage things much like Maudra Mera, by keeping a tight rein on the dissemination of information. Only allowing what information she desired and making sure anything else was suppressed. It made Kylan grit his teeth. His fingers trembled as his hands slowly curled into fists. He took a deep breath and grabbed the bottom of his tunic in his fists, to keep his hands from moving.

Such tactics seemed harmless, but the song teller knew the value of information, no matter how insignificant it might appear. Controlling information could be incredibly dangerous. That’s how the Skeksis stayed in power for hundreds of trine, after all.

Kylan found Naia standing beside him. Her gaze was understanding and he knew she would support him. He stepped forward beside Rian, subtly inclining his head and shifting his ears. He knew Naia would follow his lead, but would Rian?

The Stonewood studied his friend in an instant. His ears flicked subconsciously and he turned his focus back to Fred and George. “All right, we’ll talk,” Rian said, waving a hand in front of himself.

The red haired twins grinned. Fred gestured for them to follow while George kept a lookout. Kylan put a hand on Rian’s shoulder and smiled gratefully before Rian started to follow, leading the rest of them. They ended up at one of the many doors along a hallway, indistinguishable from the rest. All of them entered the room and the six Gelfling took one of the beds inside while the twins took the other, sitting down and getting comfy.

“How about we take turns to ask questions?” George said affably. “You can go first.”

Brea, Seladon, Naia and Gurjin were sitting on the bed. Kylan sat on the floor while Rian stood, leaning back against the bed.

“And you’ll answer honestly?” Naia asked bluntly, observing the humans.

“Yes,” Fred answered, just as bluntly. “We hope you will, too.”

“Who are the Death Eaters?” Rian spoke up, crossing his arms.

George shrugged. “We don’t know all of them by name, but we do know of a few. Or did you mean the group as a whole?”

“The group.”

Fred straightened up and slapped his hands on his knees. “That’s easier, by far. Right, so the Death Eaters are a group of people that follow and serve an evil wizard that most call You-Know-Who. That evil wizard was the cause of the last war we had and, even though the war ended over a decade ago, there are still Death Eaters living free that wriggled out of prison time.”

George nodded along. “Death Eaters believe that only witches and wizards with pure blood should be allowed to not only learn magic, but to live. Those without pure blood should be made to serve if not killed. They have no problems plotting, torturing and killing. And that’s with their own species!”

“Yeah, they hold no regard for any living being that isn’t a human being with magic,” Fred continued. “That includes you lot, but the word is You-Know-Who has one of your kind; we learned that information from Harry. The people in this place are here because they want to fight You-Know-Who and his followers. They heard of you caught by the Ministry and thought the Death Eaters would try and kidnap you too, so our side got to you first and rescued you.”

It was a better answer than any of them had expected. Kylan’s shoulders slumped a little and he let his head fall back against the bed. His instinct had paid off. The two that had trusted his hunch were thinking along similar lines.

“We are here so these Death Eaters do not find us and take us away?” Seladon inquired. The twins nodded in unison.

“Are we prisoners here?” Gurjin asked with shadowed eyes.

The twins sighed, again in unison.

“Not officially, no,” Fred said. “But we sincerely doubt you’ll be allowed to leave ‘for your own safety’ and all that.”

“So, unofficially, yes,” George added. “Also, that’s three questions in a row. Can we ask one now?” he said with a grin.

Rian gestured for them to go ahead.

“Three is fair, yeah?” asked Fred, watching them with curiosity. “What is your species called, where are you from and how did you get here?”

“Our species is called Gelfling. We are Gelfling,” Rian answered, figuring it was a safe enough one to answer.

Brea regarded the humans, not sure why they would ask the second question. “We are from Thra,” she said slowly, as if the humans were as dull as a Podling’s sense of hygiene.

Gurjin snorted. “We got here because we followed someone named Tonks. If you mean before that…” he trailed off, receiving affirmations. “One moment we were where we were, then there was a rumble and a bright flash of light. Then we weren’t where we had been anymore.”

Kylan shuddered at the wording, feeling a touch embarrassed to be associated with Naia’s brother right at that moment. Gurjin was a soldier though, not a song teller, so he could get a pass for the deplorable language skills. Unlike Kylan’s career, Gurjin’s did not rely on his vocabulary and his ability to express it.

Fred and George shared a confused look, both shrugging. “Where’s Thra?” they asked.

Even though that was an extra question, none of the Gelfling cared. The two humans were definitely old enough to know the name of the planet they lived on and if they’d never heard of Thra? Their problems just became exponentially bigger.

Chapter Text

A knock on the door broke the Gelfling out of their troubled thoughts. Molly’s muffled voice came through the door, asking for the twins. The twins in question looked alarmed and quickly waved for the Gelfling to hide, while Fred moved to sit on the other bed.

Rian and Kylan ducked down and rolled backwards underneath the bed they’d been leaning against. Gurjin quickly joined them as the girls dived forward to hide under the other bed. All of them shuffled as far back from the door as they could as the doorknob jiggled briefly. The door swung open to reveal the twin’s mother.

Her eyes found her boys, facing each other on their beds, like they’d been interrupted in the middle of a conversation. “Have you seen our little guests?” she asked, even as her eyes searched for them. “Why is there a wet patch on your bed?” she asked, eyes narrowed.

Fred only shrugged. “Tried to make a hippogriff shaped mug a few minutes ago, but it sprung a pretty big leak. I vanished what was left of the mug, just hadn’t got around to drying the bed yet,” he said nonchalantly, his hands moving as though to physically describe the mug.

“And no, we haven’t seen them since they left the kitchen,” George added.

Molly hummed in contemplation. “If you do see them, please send them to the kitchen. Don’t wait too long to clean that up,” she said to Fred, nodding at the wet bedding.

“I’ll get right on it,” Fred said. He ignored the door as it was shut and waited until the footsteps were no longer able to be heard. “That was a close one. We’ll have to try again later, she’ll be doing the rounds now until she finds you and none of us will get any peace.”

“Fred and I will leave. Wait for a bit, then start wandering the house again. If any of the adults ask, we never spoke to you. Got it?” George said, trying for a light tone as he waved his wand over the wet patches on the other bed.

“Got it,” Kylan said from somewhere under the bed.

The twins left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar. A couple of minutes later, the group of Gelfling slipped out of the room, heading to the kitchen. Or where they hoped the kitchen was. They hadn’t paid that much attention when Molly was leading them to the bathroom and now they were left to find it by exploration.

Eventually they found the landing that was near the front door and right near the kitchen. Their hair was still dripping wet and Seladon was not pleased to be appearing before their host, in the room where the food was prepared, looking like she’d dragged herself in out of the rain. The others were not so fussy and simply trooped in, only to find the kitchen empty. Molly must still be looking for them.

“I wonder if they’ll try and split us up in separate rooms to rest in,” Naia said, breaking the silence that had fallen over them since the conversation with the human twins.

“We shall have to insist on one room then, so that we stay together,” Seladon said with a small huff.

Rian scratched an itch behind his ear. “I’m wondering if it might not be better that we’re in two groups at least,” he said contemplatively.

“What do you mean?” asked Naia.

“Then we won’t all be in the same place. It’ll be harder for them to watch us that way. If they end up immobilising one group, the other might still be free to help,” the Stonewood said, closing his eyes and giving a sigh. “I don’t like having to think such things.”

Kylan flicked a bit of hair away from his face. “I think we should talk to Fred and George again when we get the chance. They’ll likely give us more answers than the adults in this place.”

“We can always ask the adults,” Brea said with a shrug. “How do we know they won’t give us answers unless we ask?”

No one really had an answer to that. They hadn’t exactly tried to get information since they were brought here, especially as Rian had been the only one capable of talking to the humans at the time. There was a good chance the adult humans would be willing to answer their questions just as readily as Fred and George. There was no harm in trying.

The room was still bland, but there were new additions. A child’s cot had been added against one wall, complete with full railing, a comfy mattress and soft bedding. The desk was still there under the window, now covered in a multitude of different things; fresh and dried plants, jars of multiple sizes, bits and pieces of squishy organs from various animals, several tools for cutting, slicing, crushing and grinding.

A table was pushed flush against the wall opposite the cot. It was not a fancy table in any way. It was a simple table with no carvings or trimmings, just there for work purposes. Sitting on top of the table, right in the middle, was a cauldron ready and waiting to be used.

Deet was sitting on the mattress, staring at the cauldron through the bars of the cot’s railing. The cauldron had been used before, but all Deet knew was that whatever was cooked in it was not food. The ingredients were strange, and sometimes disgusting, and the results varied greatly. Sometimes there was a watery potion of some vivid colour, other times there was a concoction that was thick and lumpy.

There was only one that used the cauldron. He was a dour looking sort, with a big hooked nose and greasy looking black hair that framed his face like curtains. His eyes were dark, deep and intimidating to look right into. To her, he seemed quietly tense and restrained. She didn’t mind his presence. He was not cruel to her like the others, he just came into the room to do his job before leaving. He hardly looked at her after the first time they’d met and he never spoke to her.

It made her feel lonely, but she much preferred his silence over the taunts and jeers of the others that stopped by. Deet knew he was using her blood in whatever he was trying to do with the cauldron. She tried to speak to him the last time he was in the room, but while her mouth opened, her voice seemed to be locked behind a wall of purple energy.

The Grottan wanted to know his name. She wanted to know what his name was and what he was doing with her blood. He was obviously trying to make something, but what? And why?

It must be on the orders of that creepy, pale creature with red eyes. The one that had collected her blood in the first place. Everyone else in this place seemed to serve that one.

The dour man banged open the door and swept into the room, his black cloak swirling about him dramatically. His expression seemed extra tight and Deet wondered if he was having a bad day.

Thoughts of luring him over to dreamfast had crossed her mind, but she didn’t want a repeat of what happened with the red-eyed one. Nor did she want to accidentally infect him with the Darkening. Deet had been honestly surprised that the one who violated her mind had not been infected, but she still didn’t want to take such a risk.

It was why she had left Stone-in-the-Wood directly after the battle. It was why she had walked away from Rian when he followed her. What she wouldn’t give to have Rian following her now. He would find a way in, rescue her, then bust out. She was glad he wasn’t, if only to avoid spreading the Darkening and being caught as well, but part of her yearned for his presence anyway. For him and the rest of her overground friends.

The Grottan slowly lifted an arm and knocked on the railing bars of the cot. A second knock finally made her silent, dour companion look up from his work. Two pairs of dark eyes met and she poured as much pleading into her gaze as she could.

He moved away from the cauldron, now simmering, and stood before her, leaning over. He was quite tall up close and that intimidating quality he had seemed almost palpable without the buffer of distance. Deet forced herself to look up, right into his eyes.

“Your blood is tainted by whatever energy it is that you hold inside you,” he said in a low tone, looking at her as though she were an interesting specimen in one of his jars. “I wonder if your hair is tainted too?”

With no warning, he reached out and ran his fingers through whatever sections of her hair weren’t braided. His hand came away with several long, pale strands caught between his fingers.

“This will do to start,” he muttered, retreating across the room to the work table and ignoring her once more.

He pulled apart the hairs and stuffed each one into its own tiny jar, barely bigger than a thumbnail. Four of the jars were returned to the desk while the fifth was sequestered away inside an inner pocket of his voluminous clothing.

Deet wanted to ask why he kept one, but the words could not get past the wall. She would’ve liked to talk to him; he had a rather nice voice. Deep and silky, it effortlessly commanded attention. If the dour man had been a Gelfling he would’ve made an excellent Song Teller, she thought.

His back was to her and she couldn’t see what he was doing with the cauldron, but she could easily see what he picked up from the table or the desk. She tried to guess what each thing was and how many times he stirred a certain direction. It wasn’t much, but it was all Deet had for entertainment and distraction apart from when they left her some food and water.

The captive Gelfling watched the dour man go about his work for a long time. She had no way to tell if it was night or day, let alone any amount of time passing. She watched him until he extinguished the flames below the cauldron. The liquid inside, a shimmery green shot through with blue, was carefully scooped into three vials. Two of them were placed on the table while the third went the way of the last tiny jar of hair and went into the man’s own pockets.

With not even a glance at Deet, the man swept from the room exactly as he’d swept in. She was alone again.

The day had passed slowly and the Gelfling had been all but confined to the kitchen for hours. Molly told them the young ones were working on cleaning a room for them to sleep in. None of them were quite sure how to feel about that news.

Naia had asked Molly about the Death Eaters.

“They’re a nasty sort of people you don’t want to be involved with,” Molly had answered somewhat sharply. “Everyone in this old house is against them and what they stand for, but you don’t have to worry your heads about any of it. Put them out of your minds, you’re safe here.”

It was not a satisfactory answer. They had tried again with the scruffy man that spoke of pumpkin juice, learning his name was Sirius. His answer had been much like Fred and George’s, just more emotionally charged with a few extra details. When Sirius spoke of the Death Eaters, his voice contained sadness and anger in equal measure.

But they had learned of one adult they could extend their trust to. Molly didn’t seem to like Sirius overmuch, but she couldn’t object to him talking to them like she could with her own offspring.

Sirius was busy with things around the house and couldn’t stay and chat for long. The Gelfling had little else to do but loiter around the kitchen as Molly went to and fro. Kylan offered to help at one point, but she waved him away.

“You’re a guest, dear, you just sit back and relax,” she’d said.

Nothing happened until dinner time. Everyone in the large old house had come to the kitchen, eager for food. All the young ones greeted the small guests and the food was being served when a new face to the Gelfling walked in the door. Sirius tensed and glared while the stranger looked taken aback by their presence.

“What brings you here?” Sirius said, his tone bordering on hostile.

“My job. Unlike you, I am capable of more than rummaging in garbage cans and far more useful than the fleas you bring to the table,” the stranger sneered in return.

Sirius growled, sounding very animal-like, but he remained seated and only fixed the man with a heated glare.

“Oh, hello there, Professor Snape,” Molly said with a smile. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

The man’s cold, dark eyes raked up and down the table and all those seated at it. “No, thank you. Make sure Albus gets this, would you?” He walked to Molly and held out a clenched fist. He dropped something into Molly’s waiting hands then turned around and strode away, throwing one last sneer at Sirius as he went by.

“What is it?” Sirius asked the moment the front door shut behind the stranger.

“The tiniest jar I’ve ever seen,” Molly replied absently, holding it between her forefinger and thumb to show the table.

“It looks empty,” Hermione commented, squinting at it.

Molly brought it close to her face. “No, no, there’s a hair inside. I’ll pass it along the next time he stops by.

“What’s Dumbledore gonna do with a hair?” Ron asked, mercifully between bites for once.

“I’m sure that’s his business and not yours, Ronald,” his mother said archly.

Brea waved a hand in the air like a child in school trying to get the teacher’s attention. “May I please see?” she asked politely.

Molly smiled at her and walked over, holding out the jar for her inspection. Brea reached out a finger to poke the tiny thing. She gasped, slowly pulling her finger back.

“I think that’s Deet’s hair!” she exclaimed.

Rian stood up on his chair and waved at Molly. “May I open the jar and check?” he asked, just as politely as Brea, but with an underlying urgency that she had completely lacked.

Molly’s smile slipped off her face and she turned to Rian, looking apologetic. “I’m sorry, dear, but Albus needs to get this first. Something might have been done to it, so best to let Albus have a look.”

The Stonewood almost followed Sirius earlier and growled. His frustration was mounting; the gloomy building, his missing friend, the humans, the location, the Death Eaters. Molly was his biggest immediate frustration, with her overprotective, sheltered mothering ways. His expression became a glare as the venom grew and he felt his fingers curling into fists. His ears raised and came forward.

Gurjin, who had taken the outside chair next to Rian, grabbed a fistful of Rian’s cape and tugged lightly. He was prepared to hold his friend back if needed.

Kylan, on Rian’s left again, placed a hand on one of Rian’s bare feet, ready to help catch the reckless Gelfling if he did anything other than sit back down.

Molly did not shrink back or step down. She had far too much experience raising rowdy children and moody teenagers to be put off by Rian’s display. She simply gave him a sad look and tucked the jar away in her clothes somewhere, hidden under her shawl, as she turned around. Molly went back to pottering around, waiting for everyone to finish lunch so she could clean up.

Rian grit his teeth, blew out a breath and heavily flopped back down in the chair. He missed the looks Fred, George, Hermione and Harry were giving him. Ginny was more focused on Gurjin and Kylan while Ron’s attention was solely on his food. The former guard crossed his arms and turned his glare to the food in front of him. He refused to touch it now, angry as he was with the woman who had prepared it.

The Drenchen cleared his throat, nudged Rian with an elbow, and pushed his friend’s plate closer with a pointed look. He got the glare aimed at him, but he only patiently stared back. Gurjin continued to stare him down until the Stonewood gave in and took a bite of his food with bad grace.

Harry could imagine how Rian felt. There was a possible lead right in front of his flattish nose and he was being denied. The teenager knew exactly how irritating that was, having run into similar situations a number of times over the last few years. Harry was honestly impressed that the Gelfling hadn’t started yelling or arguing, nor did he lunge for the jar. If Harry was being truthful with himself, he wanted to steal that tiny jar for Rian. Perhaps the twins would help?

The Boy-Who-Lived focused on the Gelfling language, just like he did with Parseltongue, and prayed it would work. “If you had the hair, would it help you find her?” he asked, the words sounding exotic in the air and strange on his tongue.

Hermione jumped, staring at Harry in disbelief. Ron had even stopped eating to look at his best friend in shock. Everyone else in the room was not faring much better, though the Gelfling recovered faster.

Rian paused his own meal he was begrudgingly partaking in. “No,” he said eventually, the word soft and drawn out in his native tongue. “But I might be able to tell if it does belong to her or not. And if it is hers...then that man that brought it here must know where she is.”

“And we can get the answers out of him one way or another,” Gurjin said with a hard glint in his eyes.

“Civilly and diplomatically, preferably,” said Seladon, her brows drawn down a little.

“Yes, we’ll ask nicely first,” Rian said, his tone mostly flat.

Brea sniffed lightly, smoothing out a wrinkle in her clothes. “What happens after will depend entirely on how he answers us,” she added, thinking back to Elder Cadia. Well, just Cadia now. Hopefully the sneering man would be more cooperative.

“Who was that, anyway?” Naia asked.

The Gelfling were then treated to something that was half explanation and half rant about the man called Snape. He was a teacher at Harry’s school, horribly unfair and biased, extremely skilled at making potions, not so great at teaching how to make them. Snape had hated Harry’s father all through his own schooling and had passed that hate on to Harry. He’d made a very important and difficult potion for someone for months and had done it perfectly, but the teenage boy was not entirely convinced that Snape wouldn’t poison someone if he thought he could get away with it.

They only had to make sure he heard them out the next time he showed up.

Chapter Text

The next few days were a drudgery of routine, despite anyone’s best efforts. All six Gelfling shared one room with one bed as that was all they had available so far that was cleaned. Molly kept a close eye on the group and on her own children, Harry and Hermione included. The only chance they had to talk was during meals and a quick word in the hallways when passing by. There was nothing Molly could do about the Gelfling speaking their native tongue though, nor could she stop Harry from joining in.

Because of that incident, Molly had expressly forbidden the Gelfling from dreamfasting with any humans. She had also warned her children and their friends not to dreamfast with them as there could be unknown effects. Harry had been watched closely since and now knew what Ron meant when he called his mother smothering.

The Weasley matriarch kept them with her or escorted them places as often as she could. It grated on all of them. Sirius tried to help where he could, but the way Molly went about things left him feeling like he was in the doghouse instead of being the master of the house.

On the tenth of August, Sirius finally managed to rescue them as he was going by with a sack.

“What have you got in there?” Brea asked, walking over to poke the rough hessian sack.

“Dead mice and rats,” Sirius replied with a shrug.

Brea recoiled, pulling her finger back with some haste. “Oh,” she murmured, eyes wide. She didn’t know what mice and rats were, but a sack full of dead anything was not a pleasant prospect.

Naia stepped closer as the Vapran princess stepped back. “What are they for?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“Never you mind, now come along,” Molly gently chided, trying to get them moving with some shooing hand motions.

Sirius held in a sigh. “Now, Molly, I think it would be a great idea to introduce them to Buckbeak! I’ll be supervising, so you head back to the kitchen and I’ll give our guests a little Care of Magical Creatures lesson. Fill in some time with some practical education and all that. Now, do any of you know what a hippogriff is?” he asked happily, shuffling away and hiding a grin as the group of Gelfling eagerly followed, answering negatively.

“Thanks,” Rian said with a snort once Molly was out of range. The grin he was wearing took away any sting his words might have held.

“You looked like you needed a rescue,” the wizard said, shrugging as he led them up a flight of stairs. “I’m happy to help. Now we can talk for a while too. You deserve a chance to ask your questions and get some answers.”

“So what is a hippogriff?” Brea asked.

Sirius only grinned. “I have one named Buckbeak. Sadly, he needs to hide too, so he has to stay shut up in a room instead of roaming free. Hippogriffs are half bird, half horse and very proud creatures. Before you get close, you’ll have to follow some instructions, got it?”

“What’s a horse?” Kylan asked, trying to picture something that was half bird, half something else. His mind flashed to the Skeksis, but he forcefully pushed that image out of his head. He really, truly hoped there was no Skeksis shut up in a room ahead.

“A large, four legged animal with hooves that people can ride,” came the answer.

Kylan’s thoughts of a possible Skeksis meeting were erased. “Oh, something like a landstrider,” he commented.

“Never heard of a landstrider before,” said Sirius, frowning lightly as he stopped before a door. “Now, the way to deal with a hippogriff is to look it in the eye. Once he looks back, try not to blink much or at all if you can help it. When you know his attention is on you, bow to him without breaking eye contact. If he bows back then you can get close and even pet him if you want to. If he doesn’t bow to you, back away and stay out of the room. Everybody clear?”

When all six answered in the affirmative, Sirius slowly opened the door. He went first, Buckbeak quickly bowing back and eyeing the sack. He waved the Gelfling in and the group bowed as one when the majestic animal focused on them. After several tense moments, the hippogriff bowed again. Then the sack became the centre of the animal’s world once more as it dismissed the little beings as a threat. The door clicked shut.

Kylan and Brea were the first to move closer, wanting a better look at the unusual animal.

The front half really did resemble a very large, very predatory bird. It was covered in a mass of glossy feathers, with a large hooked beak and clawed feet with scarily big talons. Massive feathered wings concealed much of the rest of the animal, but the way it was laying on the ruined bed hid much of the back half from view anyway.

From what Kylan could see, the back half didn’t look overmuch like a landstrider at all. He supposed what a Gelfling would consider able to be ridden would differ to that of a human. That, mixed with the fact that each side knew nothing about certain things each found common. Speaking of which…

“Sirius…” he started gingerly, “have you ever heard of a place called Thra?”

The others instantly came alert, ready to hear the answer. Even with Harry able to speak their language, they hadn’t had the chance to ask about Thra. Every time they tried to converse across the table, Molly would interrupt as much as she could. It was maddening, so this opportunity was incredibly welcome.

Sirius pulled a couple of small, furry dead things from the sack and threw them to Buckbeak, who snapped them out of the air eagerly. “Thra? No, can’t say I do. Never learned much about places outside the old homeland though. Is that where you’re from? Which country is Thra in?”

“What’s a country? Brea asked softly. Her eyes darted from one friend to another.

Sirius paused after throwing more food. “Er,” he said eloquently.

Rian walked over to Sirius, stuck his arm in the sack, and grabbed the tail of a dead mouse. He threw it at the hippogriff and watched it disappear from the air. “Thra is a planet and yes, it’s where we are from.”

“A planet…?” Sirius repeated shakily, not noticing when Rian took over feeding Buckbeak.

Kylan sighed and halted his attempts to reach Buckbeak. “What is this planet called?” he asked, throwing the dreaded question out there.

“Earth,” the wizard answered absently. He seemed to snap out of it as he exclaimed, “Are you saying you’re from another planet?!”

Rian threw another rodent. “We were really hoping we weren’t, but you just confirmed that we are,” he said grimly.

Sirius finally reached into the sack again, casually tossing whatever he grabbed. “How are you going to get home then? We thought we’d just be able to transport you as far as we could manage, but another planet isn’t something any of us can help with,” he said apologetically. His eyebrows were drawn down and his eyes appeared shadowed. The corners of his mouth were down-turned and his posture slumped.

The Stonewood stood there and held the sack open. “We have to find and rescue Deet before anything else,” he said firmly.

When the sack was empty, Kylan resumed his quest and edged closer to the hippogriff. He reached out and his fingers encountered feathers that felt far smoother than they looked. The Spriton stroked them softly, earning a content sounding squawk.

This encouraged Brea to follow Kylan’s lead and she found a different patch of feathers to pay attention to, showing the same level of care.

Buckbeak blithely accepted the attention, seeming quite happy. He lowered his beak, staring straight at Kylan, and made a little noise in the back of his throat.

Kylan cautiously reached out and let his fingers touch the lethal looking beak. He gave it a few soft strokes, smiling as Buckbeak lowered his head for easier access.

Deet would’ve loved this, thought Rian. The persistent ache in his heart, that had been there since she walked away from Stone-in-the-Wood, gave a pang. If they were stuck in this house for much longer then Rian felt he would start tearing at the walls to get out.

“I’ll see what I can get out of Snape for you if you can’t corner him yourselves,” Sirius offered as he rolled the sack up and folded it messily into a pocket. “One thing at a time, right?”

“Thank you,” Seladon said graciously. She was still near the door, having decided to keep well back from the dangerous looking beast her little sister was currently petting.

The wizard’s shoulders fell as he sighed. “I wish helping Harry was that easy.”

“What’s wrong with Harry?” Rian asked. The adolescent boy with messy black hair and green eyes had seemed fine whenever they saw each other.

Sirius explained about the upcoming trial at the Ministry, along with everything that had led to the trial and what tricks he expected the Ministry would pull on his godson. He would put nothing past Cornelius Fudge, who was far too fond of his position as Minister, and the prestige it brought him, to not try anything underhanded to get his way. Harry saying Voldemort was back would all but ruin Fudge’s career as the man was actually useless when it came to doing things that did not involve bribes and words in the right ears.

The Gelfling got Sirius to describe the trial process as best he could. They decided they would help Harry prepare as well, even if the way things were done were a little different. It would be a lot easier if Harry could go to his clan’s maudra and plead his case there first, but these humans had many more factions and leaders and sub-leaders. It made the whole process so much more of a hassle than it could be, especially with the human’s version of an All-Maudra being a main force against Harry.

The night time meal was as lively as ever. The food was as delicious as it always was, even if the Gelfling still had trouble identifying a good deal of the foods they were served. There were several conversations carrying on, at varying volumes.

“Harry, we have heard that you are soon to attend a trial, is that correct?” Seladon asked in English, seemingly out of the blue.

Harry blinked before nodding slowly, a frown taking over his face as he was reminded that, in the very near future, he may be expelled from Hogwarts and have his wand snapped. “That’s right,” he answered heavily. “Why do you ask?”

“We,” Seladon said, gesturing to herself and the others from Thra, “feel that we have some experience and advice to offer you that may be of assistance.”

Molly gave a small sigh, her expression unhappy. “I’m not entirely sure if the way your people go about things will be similar to the way things are done at the Ministry. Your offer is certainly appreciated, but I don’t think any knowledge or experience you have will help. The Ministry is very particular after all.”

Rian grit his teeth and hunched over a bit, wondering how long it would take for the others to not bother holding him back any longer.

“Surely there are some similarities,” Brea said in a reasonable tone. “It can’t hurt to offer what we know and then Harry can use whatever is helpful,” she continued, her tone turning happier as she smiled at the young wizard in question.

“You’re all too young for such things. Leave it to the adults, especially Albus Dumbledore. I’m sure he’ll sort something out,” Molly said stubbornly.

Rian straightened in his chair and looked at Molly, trying very hard not to glare. “Why do you say we are too young? You never asked us how old we are, you’re just assuming and treating us like helpless childings!” he said sternly.

Seladon pointed a pale finger at Harry. “How old are you? How many trine?” she barked out.

Harry looked confused. “I don’t know what a trine is, but I’m fifteen,” he said somewhat slowly.

“Fifteen trine? Plenty old enough,” Gurjin said. His tone was casual, but there was a hint of challenge in his eyes that dared the matriarch to disagree. She did not disappoint.

“Fifteen is still a child! Harry is not even of age in our world!” Molly countered loudly.

Gurjin snorted. “Rian and I were younger than that when we started training as castle guards.”

“I was much younger when I started training to take over my mother’s duties as All-Maudra,” Seladon said with narrowed eyes. “What of you, Drenchen maudra’s daughter?”

“Likewise,” said Naia, voice flat as she suppressed her anger.

Seladon stood up on her chair, with slow and calculated movements. She straightened to her full height, which was a little under three feet tall. “We are tired of you treating us like childlings, Molly Weasley. Do not presume to shelter us like childlings, hide information or make decisions on our behalf any longer. We will help Harry and you will let us as you have no authority over us.”

Molly looked both shocked and angry, but the anger won out as she puffed herself up. “I don’t know how your culture works, but you’re in the wizarding world now. You don’t know how things work here, so it’s only logical that you listen to those that do. I’m only trying to help! It’s for your own good!”

“We are not in the wizarding world,” Rian said with barely restrained anger in reply. “We are stuck here in this one building with only a dozen others, at best, to interact with. I hardly call that a world.”

The All-Maudra turned back to Harry. “Does this woman have any official authority over you and your actions?”

Harry gulped as he felt Mrs Weasley’s gaze settle on him like a heavy cloak. “Uh...no?” he replied gingerly, averting his eyes and ducking his head. He did not want to offend the woman. She was the closest thing to a surrogate mother he had ever experienced as she had always treated him like another of her boys.

“There you have it then,” Seladon announced. “Let’s find a nice quiet place to see what can be done to help.” She got down from the chair, leading her fellow Gelfling to the kitchen doorway. She turned around and gestured to Harry, who hastily scrambled from his chair to join them.

The other Hogwarts students made to follow, but Molly yelled at them to stay where they were.

“But Mum, we’re of age,” Fred said as calmly as he could.

Molly pinned him with an angry look. “I am still your mother and you live with me, so don’t argue.”

The twins scowled, but they knew where to draw the line. This was not a battle they would win this day, but perhaps later they could try.

Hermione fidgeted in her chair. She really, really wanted to follow Harry and be a part of whatever the Gelfling were planning with her friend, but she didn’t want to push Mrs Weasley any further. She bit her lip as Molly’s eyes swept over her and decided not to throw any more fuel on that particular fire. The bushy haired girl did not budge except to give the Weasley children a weak, commiserating smile.

Harry breathed a sigh and sank onto the floor in the Gelfling’s room, his back pressed up against the wall across from the bed. He watched curiously as the smaller beings arranged themselves in a circle, much like they had done at the table when they first met. His eyes flicked from one small, triangular face to another, feeling unaccountably nervous.

Seladon moved until she was right in front of him. “I have much I can impart to you. I don’t know how much of it will be useful to you in any way. Do you want my experience?” she offered, holding up a hand in invitation. She planned to share wonderful examples of court-like dealings her mother had done, along with examples of the Skeksis with their manipulative ways and sweet talk before it all crumbled into pure demands for obedience. He would need that if anyone from the Ministry tried to talk slick circles around him.

This was the moment Harry realised that no one else in Grimmauld Place, bar Hermione’s mutterings of research, had actually offered to help him with his upcoming trial. Even Hermione’s research had not done much to help or boost his confidence, as his friend spoke of her findings in a scattered manner that conveyed little belief of his success, despite her words that they couldn’t possibly convict him.

“I’d love any help you can offer,” he said truthfully. Fears and doubts about the trial niggled at the back of his mind. There was no way he was going to turn away an offer of help, so he raised his hand and extended it, moistening the inside of his mouth just before their hands met.

The others reflected on their own experiences they were willing to share or just talked quietly, trying very hard not to be loud enough to disturbed the dreamfast. It was a long dreamfast. The All-Maudra must be sharing a lot of memories. They could only hope it would be worth it.

When Seladon finally pulled back it left Harry gasping and leaning forward, his shoulders shaking.

“Are you all right?” Naia asked in concern.

“Yeah,” Harry gasped. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He quickly got his breathing under control and sat up, leaning back against the wall.

The female Drenchen observed him with the skill of a healer. “Do you want to take a break?” she asked.

The teenage wizard shook his head. “No, I’m good to keep going. I don’t want to stop,” he admitted ruefully.

After several moments Naia just nodded and replaced Seladon. She held up her hand and waited patiently. When Harry’s hand met hers, Naia started the dreamfast as gently as she could, being slow and careful as she shared memory after memory of her mother’s dealings with any problems, eventually showing her own dealings with others as an envoy for Mother Aughra and the maudra’s daughter.

Harry weathered the second dreamfast much better. Whether it was the content shared, the fact that the experience was shorter or because Naia focused on being gentle, he couldn’t say. He saw Naia look him up and down before nodding and moving away. Rian took her place, looking just as determined as Harry felt. He grinned tightly before their hands touched.

Rian showed many memories of the Skeksis; both as Lords of the Crystal and after he became a fugitive. He held back a shudder as he showed the carriage ride as the Chamberlain’s captive and the insidious words that skekSil had uttered. He’d been so close to giving up, but his friends pulled him from the depths. Figuratively and literally. Harry could not give up, he just needed to rely on those that were on his side if he could no longer stand on his own two feet alone.

Harry did not return to his own room to sleep for a long time.

Chapter Text

The next day passed in an anxious blur, and it felt like no time at all before Harry wandered into the kitchen at a ludicrous hour of the morning of the twelfth of August. To his surprise he was not the only one awake. He forced himself to eat a bit more breakfast than he wanted to and was both pleased and scared when Arthur said it was time to go. They would be early, very early, but it was easier to hang around at the Ministry with someone who knew the ins and outs.

The Gelfling were lined up in the hallway leading to the front door. They all gave him smiles, nods and waves to wish him well and he was cheered immensely by this show of support. He left the gloomy building with a smile.

The visitor’s entry to the Ministry was a surprise. Mr Weasley’s tiny office was also a surprise, but in a bad way. The note about the time and location change of his trial was the biggest surprise, and the worst one yet. The race from the tiny office was not fun and only served to rattle his already jangled nerves further. They arrived just in time and Harry’s stomach dropped when Arthur told him he’d have to go in alone.

But Rian had escaped the castle alone. He’d faced his clan’s leader alone. Brea had sought out the truth alone. Seladon had gone to negotiate alone. He could face this alone. He squared his shoulders and walked inside, trying not to let the size of the room and the amount of people intimidate him. He’d faced down a dragon with a bigger crowd so this should be easy. It was all a matter of perspective, he realised.

Harry grabbed the heavy iron handle and opened the door enough to slip inside.

Harry barely managed to stifle a gasp at the large dungeon he had entered. It was horribly familiar, being the very room Harry had visited in Dumbledore’s Pensieve, where he had seen people sentenced to life in Azkaban.

It looked virtually the same with walls of dark stone, dimly lit by torches. The only difference was the number of people and their identities. The highest benches ahead of him were filled with shadowy figures, while all of the other benches were left empty. The number of empty seats in the room somehow made it feel more intimidating than it would be if the dungeon had been filled. The low voices added to the creepy atmosphere, but they abruptly cut off as the door swung closed behind Harry.

“You’re late,” said a cold male voice across the courtroom.

Harry’s first instinct was to apologise, but all of the shared memories he’d gained told him it would be a bad idea. It would cement his position as a weaker one and would likely set the tone for the rest of the trial. He took a breath and tried to channel Seladon.

“I came straight here the moment I heard of the change of time and venue. I did not hear of the change until after eight,” he said somewhat stiffly.

“That is not the Wizengamot’s fault,” said the voice. “An owl was sent to you this morning. Take your seat.”

Harry’s gaze fell on a chair in the middle of the room. The arms were covered in chains, which he knew could spring to life and bind the chair’s occupant thoroughly. “Then I feel I must apologise on behalf of whoever sent the owl, for I did not receive it. They were obviously unable to factor in the time it would take for an owl to reach me, then for me to respond, then be able to make it through the Ministry in a timely manner due to foot traffic and lifts,” he said, his voice even, but still loud enough to be heard over his echoing footsteps as he walked to the chair.

He sat down gingerly, further in the chair than he wanted to, but sitting on the edge would show him in a weak position as well. He fervently thanked the Gelfling as the chains clinked but made no move to bind him.

“Insolence!” someone hissed.

“He has a point, especially if the owl never even reached him as he says. How did you find out about the change then?” asked a female voice.

“I was with Mr Weasley in his office when someone rushed in. They said they’d just sent an owl off, but it was lucky we were there. It was this nice person that informed us. It was eight oh five then and Mr Weasley promptly escorted me here, as I didn’t know the way, as fast as possible,” Harry answered, discreetly trying to find who had spoken.

Anyone willing to listen and not judge first should be identified and spoken to directly, if possible.

It was hard though, as there were about fifty figures on the benches above, all wearing plum-coloured robes with an elaborately worked silver ‘W’ on the left-hand side of the chest. All of them were staring down their noses at him, with varying expressions, none of which seemed outright positive for him.

In the very middle of the front row sat Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic. Unlike the summer before his third year, Fudge was not smiling at him. On his left was a witch with short grey hair and a monocle. On his right was another witch, but she was sitting so far back on the bench that her face was in shadow.

“Very well,” said Fudge. “The accused being present - finally, despite excuses - let us begin. Are you ready?” he called down the row.

“Yes, sir,” said an eager voice Harry knew. At the very end of the front bench sat Percy Weasley. Harry looked at Percy, but the older boy was resolutely ignoring him, his eyes fixed on his parchment and a quill poised in his hand.

“Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August,” said Fudge in a ringing voice, and Percy began taking notes at once, “into offences committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy by Harry James Potter, resident at number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.

Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatious Weasley -”

“Witness for the defence, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore,” said a quiet voice from behind Harry, who forced himself to turn his head slowly.

How had he ever learned anything half so well without dreamfasting? A bit of time, a bit of concentration and it resulted in almost effortless recall, with feelings and experience behind it to enforce everything. How much of a mess would he have inadvertently made otherwise? These thoughts passed quickly through his mind as he watched Dumbledore stride serenely across the room in long robes of midnight blue.

He drew level with Harry and looked up at Fudge through the half-moon spectacles that rested halfway down his very crooked nose, his expression perfectly calm as though he were in a nice park and not a dungeon.

Mutters broke out with all eyes now on Dumbledore. Some looked annoyed, others slightly frustrated; two elderly witches in the back row, however, raised their hands and waved in welcome.

Emotions surged through Harry with the appearance of the elderly wizard. At first he felt hopefully happy, secure in the knowledge that Dumbledore would be able to sort this out for him. That bubble of hope and happiness abruptly popped when he realised Dumbledore would not look at him. He was not, in fact, paying Harry the slightest bit of attention.

Wariness, anger and hurt replaced the popped bubble. Dumbledore was likely here to help him in any way he could, yes, but Harry felt it was a bit late. If the old man wanted to help, why hadn’t he done anything to prepare Harry for the trial in the first place? Or asked anyone else to do it if he was too busy? The only ones that had done anything at all to help him prepare were the Gelfling and they’d known Harry the least compared to the other regulars dwelling in Grimmauld Place.

Harry resolved to be just as wary of the headmaster as he was of the Wizengamot. Just thinking such a thing hurt, but he’d learned a lot about characters and acting from the dreamfasting as well court procedures.

“Ah,” said Fudge, who looked thoroughly disconcerted. “Dumbledore. Yes. You - er - got our - er - message that the time and - er - place of the hearing had been changed, then?”

“I must have missed it,” said Dumbledore cheerfully. “However, due to a lucky mistake I arrived at the Ministry three hours early, so no harm done.”

As Fudge bumbled on and chairs were discussed, Harry frowned internally. He’d heard that Dumbledore would help him, but he didn’t recall anyone telling him that Dumbledore would be here at the trial with him and certainly not as a witness for the defence! This was the sort of information he felt was a need-to-know thing and yet everyone had neglected to inform him. It had obviously been arranged beforehand if Dumbledore being sent a message about the time and place change was any indicator.

The teenager got the distinct feeling that someone, perhaps Fudge, had done the switch to keep either Harry, Dumbledore or both from appearing. Could they issue a ruling if he wasn’t present?

“Well then. The charges. Yes,” Fudge said, pulling out a piece of parchment from the pile before him. He took a deep breath, and read out, “The charges against the accused are as follows:

“That he did knowingly, deliberately and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions, having received a previous written warning from the Ministry of Magic on a similar charge, produce a Patronus Charm in a Muggle-inhabited area, in the presence of a Muggle, on the second of August at twenty-three minutes past nine, which constitutes an offence under Paragraph C of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, and also under Section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks’ Statute of Secrecy.

“You are Harry James Potter, of number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey?” Fudge said, glaring at Harry over the top of his parchment.

“Yes, sir,” Harry said politely.

“You received an official warning from the Ministry for using illegal magic three years ago, did you not?”

One rule of the court he had learned: never answer with a definitive yes or no straight away unless the question was perfectly clear-cut with no layers, as the first one had been. “Three years ago I received a warning from the Ministry for magic I did not perform.”

“And - what? What are you on about?” Fudge said, blinking at the boy through another glare. “You are the only magical being living in that residence and you’re saying the Ministry sent a warning to the wrong magical being at that residence?” he asked, voice going higher in his incredulity. Several court members sniggered and muttered, eyeing the accused as though he’d sprouted extra body parts between blinks.

“If someone had come and checked that night, they’d know my wand was clean of using the spell in question. I simply got the blame with no investigation into the matter whatsoever. I was very unhappy with the lack of professionalism shown. There was a house-elf that, I guess you could say illegally entered the premises? I know it sounds a little out there, but that house-elf performed the magic. I suppose it’s far too late now.”

“Ah, there we go. We’ll leave that there for now and move on,” Fudge said with a satisfied grin. “Yet you, and no other, conjured a Patronus on the night of the second of August?”

“Strictly for self-defence, yes.”

“Knowing that you were in an area full of Muggles?”

“Out of sight of all except my cousin, who is aware of magic as a close relation.”

“Fully aware that you - eh?” Fudge squawked, partly talking over Harry until he realised what had been said.

The witch with the monocle spoke up in a booming voice. “You produced a fully-fledged Patronus?”

Harry looked directly at her and nodded slightly. “Yes, ma’am.”

“A corporeal Patronus?”

“I’m...afraid I’m unfamiliar with that term, ma’am,” he replied.

She nodded back. “Your Patronus had a clearly defined form? I mean to say, it was more than vapour or smoke?”

“My Patronus has had a clearly defined form since the end of my third year at Hogwarts, ma’am. A number of people witnessed it during a sabotage attempt at a Quidditch match as well.”

Madam Bones looked thoughtful. “You learned this at school?”

“Not in class, ma’am. I specifically requested extra lessons from Professor Lupin after a disastrous Quidditch match where the Dementors converged on me in the air, and I was defenceless –”

“Impressive,” she said, staring down at him, “a true Patronus at his age...very impressive indeed.”

Some of the wizards and witches around her were muttering again; a few nodded, but others were frowning and shaking their heads.

“It’s not a question of how impressive the magic was,” said Fudge in a testy voice, “in fact, the more impressive the worse it is, I would have thought, given that the boy did it in plain view of a Muggle!”

Those who had been frowning now murmured in agreement, but it was the sight of Percy’s sanctimonious little nod that goaded Harry into speaking up. He took a deep breath first, beating back the flames of anger that tried to roar forth.

“A Muggle that already knew about magic as he is my cousin,” he said loudly, before anyone could interrupt him again. “And, again, only done so in self-defence. I feel I must ask why my cousin is not here as a witness. Is there to be no investigation yet again?” he added, sounding thoroughly disappointed.

“Self-defence?” said Madam Bones after a moment, her thick eyebrows rising until her monocle looked in danger of falling out. “What do you mean, boy? Self-defence against what?”

“Against the only thing the Patronus charm is meant for,” Harry replied evenly. He was getting increasingly frustrated at the whole debacle. It took people ages to listen to anything he’d been saying. They were even slower to speak on it and he was not going to mention their terrible deductive skills.

He used the Patronus charm. He did so in self-defence. It honestly wasn’t that hard to work out, was it? Had magical society always been this way or was he just more aware of it now thanks to the Gelfling?

“Are you speaking of Dementors?” she asked.

“Two of them came straight at me and my cousin, and I wasn’t going to sit back and do nothing,” Harry stated.

“Ah,” said Fudge again, smirking unpleasantly as he looked around at the Wizengamot, as though inviting them to share the joke. “Yes. Yes, I thought we’d be hearing something like this.”

“Dementors in Little Whinging?” Madam Bones said, in a tone of great surprise. “I don’t understand -”

“Don’t you, Amelia?” said Fudge, still smirking. “Let me explain. He’s been thinking it through and decided Dementors would make a very nice little cover story, very nice indeed. Muggles can’t see Dementors, can they, boy? Highly convenient, highly convenient… so it’s just your word and no witnesses…”

Harry held back a sigh. “I was unaware Dementors were invisible to Muggles until my cousin ran right at one while trying to get away. And why are you discounting my cousin as a witness? Because he’s a Muggle? I’ll remind you again that he knows about magic and could easily describe what he felt, even if he saw nothing,” he said loudly enough to be heard over another outbreak of muttering from the court.

“Enough, enough!” said Fudge, with a very supercilious look on his face. “I’m sorry to interrupt what I’m sure would be a very well-rehearsed story -”

Dumbledore cleared his throat, causing the Wizengamot to fall silent again. “We do, in fact, have a witness to the presence of Dementors in the alleyway Mr Potter was in,” he said, “other than Dudley Dursley, I mean.”

Fudge’s plump face seemed to slacken, as though somebody had let air out of it. He stared down at Dumbledore for a moment or two, then, with the appearance of a man pulling himself together, said, “We haven’t got time to listen to more tarradiddles, I’m afraid, Dumbledore. I want this dealt with quickly -”

“I may be wrong,” said Dumbledore pleasantly, “but I am sure that under the Wizengamot Charter of Rights, the accused has the right to present witnesses for his or her case? Isn’t that the policy of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Madam Bones?” he continued, addressing the witch in the monocle.

“True,” she answered. “Perfectly true.”

Harry immediately raised his hand at this, making the chains clink faintly at the sudden movement. “Can I request a transfer of who is in charge here? I feel very taken advantage of if Minister Fudge will so casually disregard the rules at his own leisure. Madam Bones, could you possibly take over?” he asked, his somewhat loud voice containing a pleading, vulnerable note.

The muttering returned swiftly, a mixture of angry, fearful, and thoughtful tones.

“What? The absolute nerve and audacity!” the Minister spluttered. “Now, who is this person? Where are they?”

“I brought her with me,” said Dumbledore. “She’s just outside the door. Should I –?”

“No – Weasley, you go,” Fudge barked at Percy, who got up at once and ran down the stone steps, hurrying past Dumbledore and Harry without so much as a glance.

A moment later he returned, followed by Mrs Figg. She looked scared and more batty than ever, having not even changed out of her carpet slippers. As a witness her appearance and demeanour left much to be desired, and Harry had to wonder how helpful she would truly be to his case. Was this really Dumbledore’s best defence for him? Once more he felt grateful for the Gelfling that had prepared him to defend himself.

Dumbledore stood up and gave Mrs Figg his chair, conjuring a second one for himself.

Fudge proceeded to ask her questions, which she answered in a quavery voice. The revelation that there were no witches or wizards living in Little Whinging due to his situation was startling. If they were monitoring that, why had they been unable to pick up Dobby using magic instead of him? That warning still rankled.

With all of the experiences of several Gelfling behind him, the magical government was starting to look like a disorganised mess, crumbling under incompetence from within. It had certainly soured his view of the Ministry of Magic, no matter how grand it appeared at first glance.

The fact that the Minister for Magic did not even know if Squibs could see Dementors or not did not speak well of him, and Harry’s tiny respect for him disappeared in an instant.

Fudge and Amelia Bones began asking Mrs Figg for her story and Harry inwardly cringed at her answers. She may be a witness, sure, but she was doing a terrible job of it. What was Dumbledore playing at? Did he not prepare Mrs Figg much like he hadn’t prepared Harry? The court was chewing her up and spitting her out and he couldn’t blame them, even as he felt sorry for the poor woman.

Her testimony improved near the end, but Harry held little hope for her words bearing much weight as she was dismissed from the room.

“Not a very convincing witness,” said Fudge loftily, proving Harry’s fears right.

Madam Bones spoke up, giving him a glimmer of hope, though Fudge was quick to dash it before being interrupted by Dumbledore.

“Oh, I don’t think any of us believe the Dementors were there by coincidence,” the elderly wizard said lightly.

The witch sitting to the right of Fudge, with her face in shadow, moved slightly but everyone else was quite still and silent. Harry mentally marked it to discuss with the Gelfling later.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Fudge asked icily.

“It means that I think they were ordered there,” said Dumbledore.

Fudge and Dumbledore went back and forth on the matter, with Dumbledore’s logic prevailing in Harry’s mind. The complete silence that followed only served to drive the point home. The witch to the right of Fudge leaned forwards so that Harry saw her for the first time.

He thought she looked just like a large, pale toad. She was rather squat with a broad, flabby face, as little neck as Uncle Vernon, and a very wide, slack mouth. Her eyes were large, round and slightly bulging. Even the little black velvet bow perched on top of her short curly hair put him in mind of a large fly she was about to catch on a long sticky tongue.

“The Chair recognises Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister,” said Fudge.

Now it seemed that Fudge had remembered the proper rules and protocol for the courtroom. Funny how he observed such things for his own side, showing that he clearly knew them and was flouting them in regard to the teenager. It was a rude power play that Harry did not appreciate in the slightest. The simple fact that no one else seemed to notice, or be bothered to call Fudge out, irked him greatly.

The witch spoke in a fluttery, girlish, high-pitched voice that took Harry aback; he had been expecting a croak.

“I’m sure I must have misunderstood you, Professor Dumbledore,” she said, with a simper that left her big, round eyes as cold as ever. “So silly of me. But it sounded for a teensy moment as though you were suggesting that the Ministry of Magic had ordered an attack on this boy!”

She gave a silvery laugh that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. A few other members of the Wizenmagot laughed with her. It could not have been plainer that not one of them was really amused.

Fudge and Dumbledore went back and forth again, involving Madam Bones at one point. Harry kept out of it, not willing to stick his neck out getting between those two. He refused to be a pawn in their political chess game.

Fudge was now speaking at the top of his voice. “Have you ever bothered to tot up the number of cock-and-bull stories this boy has come out with, Dumbledore, while trying to cover up his flagrant misuse of magic out of school? I suppose you’ve forgotten that Hover Charm he used three years ago –”

Still unwilling to play their game, Harry raised his hand as if he were in class and looked at Madam Bones, patiently waiting for her to spot him. It only took her a few moments.

“Yes, Mr Potter, you wish to say something?” she said, cutting across Fudge.

“Yes, Madam Bones. The incident regarding that Hover Charm was never investigated, as I mentioned earlier. I’ll admit that I do not know how such things are done around here, but a simple check of my wand at the time would’ve shown that I had not performed the aforementioned charm. It was, in fact, a house-elf that now works at Hogwarts if anyone would like to check,” Harry said calmly. He tried his best not to look at the fuming Minister.

“YOU SEE?” roared Fudge, gesturing flamboyantly in Harry’s direction. “A house-elf! In a Muggle house! I ask you.”

“The house-elf in question is, as Mr Potter stated, currently in the employ of Hogwarts School,” said Dumbledore. “I can summon him here in an instant to give evidence if you wish.”

“I – not – I haven’t got time to listen to house-elves! Anyway, that’s not the only – he blew up his aunt, for God’s sake!” Fudge shouted, banging his fist on the judge’s bench and upsetting a bottle of ink.

Fudge and Dumbledore became embroiled in another round. Harry was not pleased that Fudge had brought up mention of his aunt, especially since Fudge himself had told Harry face-to-face that it was no big deal and he was not going to be punished in any capacity from it, aside from being restricted from Muggle London. The manners he displayed as the judge of this body were, as Seladon might say, utterly appalling.

Dumbledore gave a closing statement and put the ball in Fudge’s court. Harry resisted the urge to try and catch his eye, a bit disquieted when he realised the elderly man was thoroughly ignoring him. It made his job easier but on some level it still hurt. This was the man he was meant to rely on completely to get him out of this if the Gelfling hadn’t stepped up. So far he had played verbal tennis with Fudge, made him mad, produced a witness of varying credibility, and had not even said one word directly to the teenager he was there to help.

He made sure to keep his head up and observe as the Wizengamot fell into urgent, whispered conversations. His heart thumped loudly against his ribs. Had he said enough to them? Had he come across as mature and level-headed? Hopefully he had made a positive impression, nothing like the lying, attention-seeking brat the Prophet was making him out to be. This wait was horrible though, and he very subtly wiped his sweaty palms off against his trousers.

The whispering finally stopped.

“Those in favour of clearing the witness of all charges?” said Madam Bones’s booming voice.

Harry went still. There were hands in the air, many of them…at least three quarters!

“And those in favour of conviction?”

Fudge raised his hand; so did half a dozen others, including the witch on his right. Fudge glanced around at them all, looking as though there was something large stuck in his throat, then lowered his own hand. He took two deep breaths and said, in a voice distorted by suppressed rage, “Very well, very well…cleared of all charges.”

“Excellent,” said Dumbledore briskly, springing to his feet, pulling out his wand and causing the two chintz armchairs to vanish. “Well, I must be getting along. Good-day to you all.”

And without looking once at Harry, he swept from the dungeon.