~ *~* ~ *~* ~ *~* ~ *~* ~ *~* CHAPTER VII *~* ~ *~* ~ *~* ~ *~* ~ *~* ~
Harry rode behind Legolas as Gimli sat behind Boromir, Aragorn, Gandalf, and Haldir rode their own horses as Fenrir raced beside them in wolf form, the LeStrange's flew over head in a strange form of apparation and levitation mixed to form a smoky cloud that engulf them. Severus had brought out a pitch black broom upon which he flew, keeping level with Harry, the pair chattering about potions, funeral rites and the situation back home. They rode for nearly a week, traveling over the plains of Rohan, stopping to let the horses rest and to sleep for a few short hours.
The Fellowship could hardly be blamed for their eagerness to be reunited with the youngest Hobbits. Though Gandalf has tried to assuage their fears and worry, but ultimately his words have fallen on deaf ears. The terrain soon changed to something somewhat swampy, the suddenly knee deep water having startled them as they trotted into the remains of Isengard. The Tower now a smoking ruin as Ents all milled about, moving debris and tending the earth once more to regrow what had been lost because of the madness of the former White Wizard.
“Ah, welcome, my lords and lady to Isengard!” The Hobbits cheered, sitting on a high wall smoking and enjoying some hard earned spoils.
“What is this!? A merry chase you two have sent us on, indeed!” Gimli shouted sounding quite flabbergasted and annoyed. “Having us believe you've been killed or tortured and yet here we find you, smoking and feasting!”
“We, my dear Master Dwarf, are sitting on the thrones of Victory and are enjoying a few well earned spoils of war! And might I add that the salted pork is quite delicious!” Merry chuckled, holding up the wrapped package.
“Salted pork, you say?” Gimli murmured, licking his lips in hunger as Legolas laughed and Harry sighed, jumping down from his perch to go up to the two Hobbits.
“Well come now, we've been so worried for you!” He held up his hands and caught Pippin who happily jumped into his arms and hugged him tightly. “Hello Pip, are you alright? Where you hurt at all, do I need to resurrect those damned Uruks just so I can kill them again?”
The sudden dark tone he took startled them all, but Pippin only nuzzled closer as Merry joined him, Harry holding the pair with relative ease. They promised him that other then a fright or three, they've been mostly unharmed, that no he did not need to take revenge for them. But if they asked for Harry to sleep with them that night, that was their business and no one else's. Harry moved to the horses and handed Pippin to Boromir as Merry was given over to Aragorn.
“Ahh.... Young master Gandalf...” one of the Ents breathed out in happiness, this shocked those around them. Few know that Gandalf has been around since the dawn of the Elves, and yet this Ent had called him YOUNG! They must be infants in comparison then.
“Hello Treebeard.... redecorating I see...” Gandalf chuckled.
“Tree and bush, rock and stone.... I can manage, however...” Treebeard turned to the tower with a displeased frown. “There is a wizard to be managed here... Locked inside his tower, trapped and there he will remain...” He nodded decisively
“Well, I will allow it, but first we have much to speak about with him and he has many crimes to recompense for...” Gandalf agreed easily enough.
Up on the tower at the very top was Saruman, looming over them. Grima could be seen hiding behind him, the man's pale face paling even further as he caught sight of the strange child that had bested him.
“My lord, it is him! The child!” He hissed out in a squeaky voice.
“Ah... the strange Wizard and Gandalf the Gray...” Saruman laughed, a maddened and lustful look filling his eyes. “Come, let us break bread and speak, young one...”
Harry scoffed, pulling his broom from his pocket, canceling the shrinking charm on it and with a jump, had mounted it and he and Severus flew up to be level with the faded White Wizard. Severus hung back, merely up there as a protection as he would let his ward deal with the insane man. Bellatrix and the LeStrange brothers zipped by, their cloud and mist forms startling the nervous Wormtongue, a man who was a taller, skinnier and less ugly version of Wormtail. Severus kept his black gaze on him, sneering at him when he dared to look at him.
“I would love to learn what magics allows you to fly on a cleaning tool and allows them to fly....” Saruman entreated again, holding his hand out beseechingly toward Harry.
“I fear that will not be possible.” Harry stated. “I do not associate with those who have sold their souls. Black Magic is foul, loathsome and it makes me quite literally sick.” He looked the man in the eyes, a silent and wandless Legilimens allowed him to see that what was once a great mind had been torn asunder and all that was left was madness, lust and greed. “Had you been what you once were, perhaps I'd have gladly broken bread with you... But you and your dog would be so lucky to see the morn.”
The Istari's smile fell and his hand fell as well, but then a look of rage filled his face as he glared down at Gandalf, “This is your doing, Gray! Robbing me of what is rightfully mine! Undo your curse, charlatan!”
The two Istari brandished their staffs, Harry quickly pulled back, as Severus cast every shielding spell he knew around them. This high up, he had limited shadows to work with, but that did not make him any less deadly, he's worked with only his own tiny shadow in a room full of light before. The two Istari had a minor battle of magic, the feel of it was wild and powerful, unrefined and needing more strength on the two males' part to give it shape and form. It was Olde magic and Harry watched fascinated. Even faded as he was, Saruman was powerful still and it showed how battle hardened and skilled the former Head of the Order was.
After a few more spells, Saruman dodged back, and the two calmed their magic and tempers before the crazed wizard turned his mad eyes on Theoden and Theodred, pasting on a charming and friendly smile. The oily feel of it and the sickening sweet words that soon came forth did not abate the feeling as Harry hovered a safe distance from the man, feeling the beginnings of Leech Craft once more slither out and attempt to take hold of the King and perhaps the others.
“You have fought many wars, killed many men and have made peace afterwards, have you not, Theoden-King?” He beseeched, “Could we not sit and have peace?”
“We shall have peace...” Theoden agreed readily enough, shocking everyone, but then he added on, “We shall have peace when you have paid for the burning of the Westfold and for the children who lie dead there!”
The two airborne Omegas let out distressed sounds even the maddened cackles from Bellatrix turned to an anguished wail, made all the more haunting as she kept her flight around the tower. The Alphas all snarled low in anger, children were precious to the Wizarding community, their hope for the future and a continuation of their legacies. Knowing that children, Muggle or not, had been slain hurt them all. Even the Arda natives were enraged by this news.
“We shall have peace when the soldiers whose bodies were hewn even as they lay dead upon the gates of the Hornburg are avenged!” Theoden hissed, face filled with righteous fury, Theodred's matching it in intensity. “When you are hanging from a gibbet for your crows to have sport with, only then, old friend, shall we have peace!”
Saruman scowled fiercely as he spat back at them, “Gibbets and crows! Hah, and what have you Gandalf Grayhame!? The keys to the Orthanc? Perhaps those to the Barad Dur as well? Why not the crowns of the 9 Kings and the Rods of the 5 Wizards!?”
Gandalf looked sadly up at his one time friend, his long time mentor and perhaps at a time long, long ago, an old flame, but no more.
“No, old friend, what I want is what you know...” He sighed, but his voice carried with a great weight. “You were deep in the enemy's council.”
“Information.” Saruman spat, before he smirked and with a twist of his fingers, a large polished orb of what looked like volcanic glass appeared in his hand. It had a strange light from with in it that slowly grew as the man looked into.
The pull of the Leech Craft got stronger and Harry had to close his eyes as Severus, pulled up before him, holding his long robe sleeve before his face, making sure he could only see the mad wizard's brow and nothing else, the dark tainted feeling of the Black Magic was offensive to even the Dark Creature as he cast many silent and wandless wards to protect them.
“Something festers at the heart of Arda, the shadows growing larger... and the Great Eye has seen it!” he cackled, madly as he kept staring into the orb. “Even with the fall of Isengard, Sauron presses his advantage! He grows stronger! You, Gandalf, have doomed all!”
The White Wizard rode forward, worried for the clearly breaking man.
“You cannot hope to have this wretch assume the throne of Gondor!? A lowly exile and a ranger to boot, hah! He will never be King! And the Halfing, what pretty lies did you spin for him before sending him off on this suicidal path to his death!? Soon the One Ring will be with its master and all will fall away, all but you....”
Harry dared to look up at the madman and he was looking dead at him with eyes that were not his but flame bright and the whispering Black Speech caressed his ears like a lover's sweet whispers of pleasure.
“You, born from a realm many realms away, born pure and powerful, incorruptible, beautiful and mine... yes...mine...” the man's voice had changed then, not the aged and wizened voice of Saruman, but young and dark, the true dark voice of Sauron.
“You will not have him!” a voice came from nowhere as a crack sounded and Saruman fell back, the Palantir falling into the water far below as the misty form turned into a man or a creature, he was tall and bald, deathly pale and his features were snake like in a human looking face. He had a bone white wand aimed at the old wizard and glared at the cowering Grima.
“Tom, get away from him!” Severus ordered his mate, the male barely dodging a deadly spell that would have taken his head had he not, quick like the snake he is, turned into his Naga form and wrapped his large body around the top of the tower and hiding his torso behind a turret “Reckless idiot!”
“I love you as well, my Shade, but sweet talk me later, I'm a bit busy!” He called back as he crawled his way up and grabbed Grima and threw him at the laughing LeStrange's and let them play with the man listening to his begging screams.
“Harry land, let them have their fun... the Wizard is beyond saving.”
“I feared as much... but I will not leave... I promised Mors his pound of flesh... Lord Slytherin, the old codger is mine....” the last word was hissed with Death's power and sent a chill into the spines of all who heard it.
“And the worm?” Voldemort dared to ask, nervous of the deadly aura that surround the young child. And yet he found himself wanting to be closer to said child, closer to that aura; it was unnerving.
“Him as well...” Harry stated and Rudolphus dropped the man onto the top of the tower with a thud and yelp as he, his brother and wife landed and their lord slithered down the tower with alarming speed and quickly circled the group of horses as they cast shields around themselves.
Severus remained in the air though he gave Harry a much wider berth, instinct telling him that the younger Omega was the larger Predator and he did not want his attention on him. Suddenly the young Devi landed and as soon as he touched down on the top of Isengard, a pair of Hourglasses appeared and on their plaques were the names of Saruman and Grima.
“For the corruption and untold murders of innocent lives, your life is forfeit.” Harry began. “For the children you have allowed to be slaughtered, your life is forfeit. For the attempted murders of a royal family whom you swore to protect, your life is forfeit. For the perversion of Nature and Natural life, your life is forfeit...” Harry listed, his voice growing darker as the sheer raw power coming from him threatened to collapse Orthanc and all of Isengard to the depths of the earth.
And~for~attempting~to~touch~my~Master,~your~souls~are~forfeit!
Now~I~shall~have~your~souls!~And~suffer~you~shall~forevermore!!
They gasped seeing Death appear from nothing, his tall and deadly form all the more frightening with his scythe held above his head. Legolas gasped as he felt his arms moving on their own, notching an arrow as Grima yelped, feeling himself reaching for his dagger. The pair were moving as if puppets on a string. Grima lunging at Saruman and stabbing him in the back just as Legolas shot Grima in the heart with an arrow. Saruman and Grima fell as the blackened blade of the scythe cut through them, their respective hourglasses finally emptying, their souls or what was left of them pulled free from their dead bodies as Saruman's fell and landed on the deadly spikes of a water wheel which turned and buried the once great wizard in a watery grave.
I~have~my~pound~of~flesh...~you're~a~cruel~one,~Master,~robbing~me~of~the~March~Warden...
Harry chuckled as he moved to hug the Reaper and removed his hood to reveal his skull and kissed the air just before the empty eye socket.
“It was not his time and you know it well... Perhaps I can offer you another in his place, one more deserving of death?” Harry placated.
Death nodded and whispered in his ear, a sweet little thing, a name of his desired soul, and then he was gone as Harry's clothes turned back to their green state, the young man having never once noticed that it had turned black with the symbol for the Deathly Hollows in silver on his back. Jumping back onto his broom he and Severus landed as the others calmed down.
“That was Death!?” Merry gasped, looking pale and frightened still.
“Yes, but Papa Mors is not really anything to be feared unless you have done something to severely upset him.” Harry promised as the others looked at him with a new found respect and a small frisson of fear. “Lord Slytherin, well met...”
“Well met, Lord Potter.” Voldemort bowed his head low to one of the too few he's ever acknowledged as either being equal in power or more powerful than himself. And the child-- no the young man before him was truly deserving of both honors and respects. The Master of Death was not someone you wished to make your enemy, that was someone you wished allied with you or neutral in any given situation. “Forgive my late arrive, I had a very stubborn goat attempting to follow me...”
“Oh?” Harry blinked, he was familiar with the humorous code name, if you could call it that, for Headmaster Dumbledore. “I would like to hear this tale, it might prove entertaining, but first....” Harry then waved his hands into the air, a low humming coming from his throat.
The song, as they quickly realized, was ancient and sacred. The Ents froze in awe before they began to hum as well, trees out in the distance groaned in tune, the ground vibrating with the varying timbers (no pun intended... okay so it was intended, shut up!) that soon rumbled like a roll of thunder as the broken grounds of Isengard began to heal, the taint of Black Magic being chased away by Natural magic, grass and wild flowers filling the ground, young shoots appearing, the beginnings of new trees. And suddenly Treebeard gasped, the song abruptly ending.
“The Ent-Wives! I know where they are! I know where our Entlings and Wives are!” He cried out in joy, thick globs of sap spilling from his ancient eyes.
The other Ents began to rejoice and Harry smiled happily.
“Thank you, Death's Master... you have given us a most precious gift...” Treebeard cried and knelt low. “Take my sap... it will heal you of most injuries and cure you of all poisons save the evil poisons of Sauron's worst makings...”
Harry quickly conjured up several large jars and the Ent let his sappy tears fall into them. The liquid was thick and a crystal clear amber, smelling too sweet, but woody. When the last jar had filled it, the Ent Leader stood up, speaking in Entish, sending a handful of his brothers to fetch their Wives and children, Isengard would now be the home of the Ents and Fangorn Forrest would once more reach the outer walls of Isengard. Harry smiled as he watched Severus carefully pack away the jars, eyes bright with curiosity and wonder, a barely noticeable tremble of excitement in his fingers.
“I believe we may go now... And I did warn you Gandalf, he could not be saved.” Harry had told him. “Mors wouldn't let him. He was too dangerous; his mind had been torn asunder, only the scattered remains of his memories remained but were quickly burning away as nothing but Greed, Lust and Power filled his mind, Sauron's voice cackling and giggling through his new toy. The man we saw looked like Saruman, but in the end was only a shell for Sauron's will...”
Gandalf nodded sadly, looking once more to the wheel where his friend had met his end, still submerged in his watery grave. Pippin had slipped off Aragorn's horse at some point and was walking through the waist high water (well if you were a Hobbit and/or a Dwarf) toward the faintly glowing orb. Unintentionally falling under the spell of Sauron as he looked to grab a new host one closer to the strange Istari from another Realm.
“Peregrin Took!” Gandalf snapped out, startling everyone. “Give it here... hurry now!”
The youngest Hobbit seemed to hesitate before handing it up to Gandalf who wrapped the Palantir in his old gray cloak and hid it in a saddle bag before they were all mounting up again and leaving. Isengard had fallen and would be rebuilt anew by the Ents. Perhaps in time it would be a wonderful place once more...
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A few nights later, once all of people of Edoras and the refugees had made it back to Theoden's Hall, they held a feast as promised. Milly having been summoned to aid with the cooking, the people at first afraid of the tiny creature, but upon realizing she was only helping and was a quick hand, they settled into cooking. Aldeztaile and Hedwig were enjoying hunting field mice and rats outside the hall as the severely cut numbers of Tom's group arrived dressed in their finery portraying their respective statuses and House Crests.
Harry had also donned his own finery, but wore a cloak over it so as not to draw attention just yet. Goblets and drinks were passed around, no one taking a drink until every hand had a cup. And then Theodred stood with his cousin Eomer on a raised stage where the musicians normally sat. They held out their cups and everyone paid close attention to their princes.
“To those who have passed, to those who fought to protect their loved ones and fell, to friends, old and new, to the Honored Dead who watch over us and to Death for he has shown us a great mercy!” Theodred intones in a deep, somber tone, but the unbridled pride and honor he felt clearly heard. “May the Gods continue to watch over us!”
“May they watch over us!” the crowd cheered and everyone knocked back their drinks, though Harry didn't, he sipped his and hummed at the sweet flavor, though the after burn of alcohol was there.
Soon chatter, singing and dancing filled the hall as food was brought out or appeared from nowhere. Bellatrix stole off to speak with Eowyn, using a translator spell to help her since she didn't know enough Weston to speak it well and still had issues understanding some of it. The LeStrange Brothers were laughing with Fenrir as they drank and regaled each other with their battle against the Dark Creatures. Legolas was surrounded by fair maids, who blushed and batted their lashes at him, though he only smiled in turn, he did not feed into their silent flirtations.
Aragorn was talking with Theodred and Theoden, Eomer was hosting a few drinking contests to the enjoyment of some of the men. Gimli was with him while Boromir was surrounded by children, who he seemed to be telling a story too. Severus and Voldemort were making their way to him and he smiled softly at his mentor and his mentor's mate.
“Professor, my lord.” He nodded and they joined him at his table.
“Why are you not dressed and sitting alone?” Voldemort asked.
“I am dressed, however because of my many Houses and titles, my clothes are a bit flashy even in their most simplistic form.” Harry sighed. “And I am sitting alone because I do not do well in crowds... I prefer to watch.”
“He's not like his father was, beloved; he takes after Lily in that sense.” Severus told Voldemort.
“I see, but you do realize you will have to get use to the attention now or it will be overwhelming when you come back.” The Dark Lord intoned.
“I know, but I'd like to enjoy my last moments of anonymity,” He sighed. “I know that once I am home, and this war is over, everyone will want to know who I am, to know the man behind the Legend... Many will worship me, and many will damn me. I will not get any rest and I would rather enjoy my peace while it lasts.”
“I understand, but even as we sit here, there are eyes looking at you, filled with wonder, awe and even lust.” Voldemort chuckled as Harry's cheeks pinkened.
“Oh, stop it, you fool!” Severus huffed, slapping his mate's shoulder playfully. “Ignore Tom, he's an idiot.”
Harry giggled as the Dark Lord gave a petulant protest, pouting as Severus rolled his eyes and poked his nonexistent nose, reminding him that he had yet to transition fully back into his human form. The man did so and Harry gulped, his cheeks redder than before. Tom Marvolo Riddle also known as the Dark Lord Voldemort, was a devilishly handsome man. His hair was short, but long enough to show that he had naturally wavy and slightly curly hair.
His features were chiseled and regal, masculine and sharp. His eyes a piercing blue as he was pale, but not the death like pale his hybrid form was. He was still a very tall man, broad in a very clear Alpha way, but slim with tapered and corded muscles that belayed his crushing strength. He chuckled at the young Omega and leaned across the table to hook a finger under Harry's chin.
“See something you like, gorgeous?”
“If you wish to sleep with me tonight, you will cease teasing my student.” Severus hissed, mildly miffed. He knew his mate was only teasing, but still he was a jealous lover and would fight any bitch to the death if they even had a tiny inkling of trying to seduce, let alone sleep with his husband.
“Perhaps I want you both, you'd both give me beautiful children.” He chuckled teasingly even as he silently canceled his mate's glamours once more.
Severus' normally ugly features smoothed out into an androgynous beauty that leaned more toward the masculine. His eyes were a piercing gold and his nose, while still large, was straight and had a slight up turn to it instead of the horrid dented and crooked hook it was. His lips were fuller, rosier and his hair fell in long waves to about mid back as wisps of shadows danced off his form, blending well with the deep blue and ebony formal dress he wore in representation of the House Prince. A mix of bronze and subtle silver interwoven into the blue, the colors of Ravenclaw, of which the Prince line had descended from, even if they have not always been sorted into Ravenclaw.
Tom wore his in emerald green and silver, the colors of Slytherin, with faint dashes of maroon red and black for the Gaunt family. The formal dress weren't actually dresses but legging like breeches and tunics with vests and their formal robe over that, all in their respective family colors and any Crests that came with them. Severus wore slightly heeled boots, no more than an inch or two while Tom wore armored greaves over his boots. Harry was dressed in red and gold, with his cloak ranging in shades of green, his Houses Crests all sewn in, but the Deathly Hallows Crest stood prominent with the others around it.
Harry himself was dressed in an tunic, vest, and leggings combo all a fiery mesh of crimson red and sun gold, the colors for both Potter and Gryffindor families, black accents for the Black Family and for the Deathly Hallows, though he made the inner lining of his cloak the varying shades of green he preferred since Death cared not for color as long as it was nothing garish like Neon Yellow and Orange or Pink. Pink seemed to offend him the most, the others just gave him a headache.
“If you value your cock, sir, you will never suggest such a thing again. I view Hadrian as my son. I am not incestuous as most of the Wizarding World seems to be. We want to clean the bloodlines, not muddy them even more.” Severus' deadpan stare was impressive and intimidating.
“Of course, forgive the poorly made joke.” Voldemort apologized sincerely, his mate's wrath was not worth playful flirting and ill timed jokes. “Besides I would never have seriously touched him, he's young enough to be my grandson.”
“So you're fine being married to someone young enough to be your son?” Harry quirked a brow.
“He's my heart and soul, the other half of who I am.” Tom purred out, kissing said Elf's neck, making him purr darkly and bare his throat in a rare public display of submission. “My soulmate, hand picked by the Gods themselves to stay by my side. Elves are famous for their longevity and since I have never seen an Elder in Severus' family, I can only assume none of his family has lived long enough to reach old age, if they grow old to begin with.”
“Well my great grandmother is still around and she looks like she is still 15 years old.” Severus told him, smirking as his mate grumbled darkly. “I know of a ritual that would grant you the longevity of an Elf.”
“So I will have some company for the rest of my long life.” Harry smiled. “Being the master of Death, I live until the end of time. Though Mors has assured me that in time I will grow tired and will wish to enter the eternal rest and he would welcome me as he did my ancestor.”
“Itty Bitty Potty!!” Bellatrix's voice called out, “Sing us a song!”
“Oh, learning Weston?” Harry smiled at her, even if he felt his eye twitch at the strange name she gave him. Was she insulting him or was she really part crazy and that part just seemed fond of baby speech?
“Yes....” She paused, but frowned, “but I am still having trouble grasping some of the tenses.”
He nodded his understanding, but remained sitting, hiding a smirk behind his goblet of honey mead. Just because he was technically of age for these people does not mean he liked drinking. Even then because of his Creature's nature, most Alcohols did not sit well with him, Honey Mead was the least offensive to his system, though Mors had once given him a wine made from moon flowers and moonbeams, that had been delicious. It was from a realm where only Elementals lived, perhaps he could ask him to get him a bottle to enjoy?
“Sing!” Bellatrix whined, now kneeling beside him, arms wrapped about his waist and shaking him carefully so as not to spill his drink. “Pwease?”
“And how do you know that I can sing? What if I cannot? Why torture these people with my terrible singing?” He asked, again hiding his amused smirk in his drink while Severus was doing the same, the two sharing a conspiratorial look as Voldemort openly chuckled at the pout on Bella's face.
“Tiger lily could sing! Potty Watty couldn't hold a tune in a bucket, even if he tried.” She scowled and Severus snorted hard because it was true.
“Silence, sir... that is my father even if you two never got along.” Harry narrowed his eyes. “Though he's a prat and an overgrown child.”
“How would you know?” Voldemort asked.
“I've spoken with him and mother often, though I've been neglectful lately because of this One Ring business.” Harry stated nonchalantly, wiggling a ring on his right middle finger. Voldemort noticed the movement and looked, recognizing the the Gaunt Family ring, but said nothing because obviously Harry was the Master of Death and Death himself had gathered the Hallows to give to his young Master(though that didn't subside his shock and annoyance at having a Hallow right under his nose and being none the wiser for it).
“Itty Bitty Potty!!” Bella wailed, just this side of annoying, which made the three males twitch at the decibel only they, the Elves and possibly the Hobbits, could hear.
“Harry can sing?” Pippin asked, having stopped his little ditty with Merry, both looking eager to hear Harry sing. “Sing us a song!”
Many agreed, even egging him to sing. Legolas, who had somehow gotten away from the horde of women at some point and was now chatting with his fellow Elves, looked at him with that soft encouraging smile that did things to Harry's heart and it was over before it began. Sighing, he stood up to much cheering and laughter.
“Sevie too!!” Bella cackled and yanked her Queen up and pulled him along.
Severus struggled a moment with her before he slipped into a shadow and appeared on the other side of the room, glaring at the woman.
“Why would I sing?” He growled.
“Back up of course!” She giggled. “Besides you play the piano beautifully.”
He hissed at her and slipped into the shadows, dodging Rudolphus, who should really know better than to attempt to sneak attack him. He appeared beside Aragorn, who did an admirable job of not jumping in fight at the man melting back into existence from behind him.
“I will do no such thing!” He hissed at her.
She glared and then smiled brightly and turned to the horde of children moving to sit before the stage. She whispered something and suddenly he had nearly 100 pairs of puppy dog eyes aimed at him. He simply stared them down, cocking a brow. He has been a teacher for nearly 20 years, he's immune to that look. So of course he was wholly unprepared for a tug on his robe and he looked down to see a toddler, looking up at him, near tears and bottom lip quivering...
….
….
….
...shit...
He scooped up the baby and walked toward the stage, handing the child to his mother as he passed and climbed on, flicking his wand at a nearby stool and transfigured it into a piano bench while conjuring up a grand piano, music sheets that would magically write the notes for the rest of the musicians appeared as he and Harry had a small chat on what to sing.
“...Are you sure?”
“It's appropriate and it does fit the current situation.” Harry told him. “Besides, I'll leave all the good cheer to Merry and Pippin, they seem quite capable of lifting the gloom. Besides it will bring these people closure.”
“As you wish...” Severus bowed his head and then removed his robes to sit on the bench, the sheets shimmering and music notes appeared, “You could read those correct?”
The others nodded, after a moment of looking them over. Severus nodded and began playing a small tune, making sure the piano was tuned. Conjured instruments did not always show up tuned, especially stringed instruments. Summoning a tuning wrench he quickly tuned it and then nodded at Harry.
“Alright, since we were bullied...” He playfully scowled at the room of smiling and laughing Rohanites, he smiled softly. “I will sing a song that I think best suits the current situation, not just here in Rohan, but the whole of Arda... It's a song of Love, War, Betrayal and Death...” He then nodded to Severus who then began to play.
The first few notes were soft, but almost instantly grew steady and strong and yet had a strangely pained sound to them. Harry, with a short breath, he opened his mouth and the most enchanting voice emanated forth, calming, soothing. But they all noted how tinged with pain it was as well, a pain that would steadily grow with the song, not that they knew this:
Children of the land do you hear?
Echoes of truths that once rang clear
Two souls intertwined
One true love they did find
Bringing land and heavens near
But flames that burn full bright, soon fell dark
Memories dimmed by shadowed hearts
In the waxing gloom did wane the lover's moon
Watching as their worlds drift apart
The other musicians had slowly bled in, somehow playing the new song as if they have played it millions of time.
One soul's cry
A passion dwelling within
Sacrifice, a final plea to her kin
Yet this bond of hope, by treachery was broke
Scattering her words to the wind
Harry fell silent for a moment, giving a small solo to Severus, who had closed his eyes and looked like he was playing from his soul, a few tears in his eyes. Bellatrix and a few woman stood and began to vocalize as Harry began his next part, his voice filled with pain, but unwavering strength.
Swelling over long,
seas of blood, are a song
And death an afterthought
To those who fight for naught
A throne, lying empty
A reign, incomplete
Alone, for eternity
A pain, without cease
As another musical solo began, Harry wiped the tears that had sprung up in his eyes, could see many grieving softly to the song, but enraptured still. He felt his strength swelling and with a stronger voice finished the song.
Children of the land, answer this
Why must you turn to empty bliss
Tell me why break trust, why turn the past to dust
Seeking solace in the abyss
Tell me why create, a circle none can break
Why must you let go, the life you were bestowed
This I fear I'll never know
Never know...
Harry vocalized the last of the song, Severus playing still, now once more alone as they finished. There was a moment of utter silence and then clapping and cheers went up. Cups were raised, toasts to the dead and the living given as Harry bowed and quickly ducked off the stage, Severus vanishing his piano and shadow traveling to his mate's side, where he buried his head in his neck, content to hid his tears.
Harry shied away from the praise for his lovely singing, the questions about the song and its meaning. Legolas made his way over and several left as they realized they were going to have a private word, dragging the stubborn and clueless ones with them. Harry chuckled as Legolas shook his head at the antics of the Men.
“That was a beautiful song... It was also quite sad, to have found your true love and then to lose them because of war.” He sighed, trying to shake the feeling of foreboding off, but it stubbornly clung to him like a second skin.
“It is, it was sung by the one who wrote it when their lover had been murdered, her reign as queen cut short, shattering her kingdom and the long reign of peace it once had. The lover had fled to the Heavens and watched over the realm, saddened by all the bloodshed and the pain that was being wrought, the suffering many felt being spread. It's painful to continue living on when the one you loved died and many more are dying as well.” Harry told him. “I thought this song was very fitting.”
“It is... It sounds like you know this bard.” Legolas could not hide the bitter jealousy in his voice, even if he cleared his throat self consciously.
“I know of them because Papa Mors had been the one to escort the two lovers souls to their final rest. They gave him the song to share and hopefully use it to teach other realms that wars were a terrible thing. That killing for the sake of killing leads to untold heart ache.” Harry smiled softly. “You need not feel jealous, I am not fond of women anyway... My gender doesn't allow me to be compatible with women, well non Alpha women. But even then the female form does not appeal to me.”
Legolas blushed, stammering, something he's never done before, but before he could either move or continue to make a fool of himself, he felt soft hands cup his cheeks and the softest brush of flowers upon his lips. It took his mind a second to realize it was Harry's lips and carefully wrapped his arms around him, pulling him tighter to his chest as the kiss deepened from a mere press of lips. They pulled away a moment later and both were flushed and breathing a bit heavily, almost as if they had been running for years and were finally catching their breath. Suddenly shouts of joy and clapping startled them and Legolas turned bright red as he saw his fellow Elves smiling smugly at him, Haldir had even called out in Elvish that it was about bloody damn time.
Harry chuckled as he took the good natured ribbing and teasing. Bellatrix's laughter was loud as she accepted a few galleons from a scowling Rudolphus and Rabastan. Fenrir howled, making the children join him, pleased that a new courtship had just began. Voldemort and Severus merely nodded their heads, though the chilling glare they shot Legolas made him nervous.
“Hadrian...” Theoden called, smiling at the young man and pulled him away to speak with him, which left Legolas to the mercy of the two Dark Istari. “Come, I wish to speak with you...”
Eowyn smiled for her friend, glad he would be courted. Eomer hugged his sister close as their cousin roared with laughter at the terrified look on the Elvish Prince's face when faced with Hadrian's people. It would seem that they were very protective of the young man as many of them felt. There was something about the strange young man that made them want to protect him, to make him happy and it kind of scared them. Eomer whispered in his sister's ear that he was happy for her no matter what happened and she hugged him close, he was all she had left besides her uncle and cousin.
“Hadrian had foreseen happiness in my future, I will be patient.” She told him. “And I hope you find your own happiness as well brother. You and Theodred.”
He nodded his head and smiled again, “It seems Theodred is enjoying the Elf's misfortunes a bit much... why not offer him that lovely soup you made?”
She scowled at her brother, somehow knowing he was insulting her cooking skills again. She will admit she couldn't cook very well, but her cooking couldn't be that bad! The feast continued well into the evening, at some point Legolas, now free of Voldemort and Severus (and having survived his shovel talk from the pair), had joined a drinking game. He and Gimli were the only two still going when he suddenly gasped.
“My fingers are tingling... I think it's affecting me...” He gasped out, looking bewildered.
Eomer, who had been supervising raised his brows at him in disbelief, while Gimli cackled and made to comment, but his eyes suddenly rolled back and he passed out into a dead drunken stupor. The other Elves burst into laughter then as Legolas smirked.
“I win...” He stated simply.
“How?” Eomer wondered as a couple of servants moved Gimli to the rooms that had been given to the Fellowship for their stay.
“Elves cannot become drunk unless drinking Elvin made liquors.” Haldir told him, chuckling softly. “Some would say we cheat in a drinking contest, but is it really cheating if what there is to drink does not affect us?”
The blonde man laughed and slapped Legolas on the shoulder as he chuckled at Haldir snagging a pint and downing it in three gulps and told them that it was a good and hardy drink, just not strong enough to even warm his bones. The night kept going as such, revelers slowly returning home or to bed until Theoden's Hall was silent...