Sanctuary of Arda

Arda, Middle-Earth, Year 500 of the Third Age

Lord Elrond Halfelven sat in contemplative silence in his study, looking though the windows to the beauty that was Rivendell, his home. He was one of the Eldar.

At the moment he was calmly paging through one of the many books of lore and wisdom that he had long collected over his long life. For Rivendell was a repository of such things, and had the most extensive library in Middle-Earth.

Outside the birds sang merrily, the trees were green and healthy, the springs flowed and the Elves were content and at peace, though at times it seemed as if the world around them hardly ever was. Elrond sighed heavily as his mind took him back to that fateful day in Mordor at the very foot of Mount Doom, where the Last Alliance of Elves and Men had confronted the Dark Lord Sauron himself after having slaughtered his armies.

It felt just like yesterday to him, even though it was more than five hundred years ago, for Elves were immune to the ravages of time and their memories and perceptions were different from all else. He could still smell the fumes from that accursed Volcano; remember the cries of those who had died.

He remembered the failures of that day, and snorted angrily to himself. The Race of Men, in their most glorious day of victory, failed. He could still see Isildur as he held the One Ring of Power that had held all the races of Middle-Earth under the dominion of Sauron for over two thousand years. He could hear how the Ring seduced him and how in an arrogant voice he declared himself master of the Ring and turned to walk out of Mount Doom, despite the Elf Lord's best efforts to convince him otherwise.

Elrond had briefly even considered raising his sword against Isuldur, but dismissed it just as quickly. If the Ring changed hands at the spilling of blood, whose to say it would not seduce even him. Not to mention the possible war between Men and Elves it would spark.

So Elrond had done the only thing he could, and let Isuldur go. Fifty years after Sauron had been cast down into a restless slumber, Elrond had heard that Isuldur, the now King of Gondor, had fallen by orcish arrow and his body floated down the Anduin river. The One Ring was lost. And Elrond had to admit it was better that way, it was best to let the Ring fade from all knowledge save from the Mighty.

Elrond's musings were interrupted when Elladan, his son of three hundred and seventy years old, burst into the door rather out of breath. It rather worried Elrond to see his son in this harried state, wondering what could fray him so. The younger Elf had his father's long brown dark hair, but had his mother's eyes.

"Suilannad Ada!" greeted Elladan. (Greetings Father!)

"Suilannad Ion," frowned Elrond, "treneri sianath." (Greetings son, what has happened.)

"Im gerin tira-minai," said Elladan. (I have found something strange.)

"Ir ha?" asked Elrond. (What is it?) And now that he thought about it he could indeed sense something different in the world, a burgeoning force of light like none he had ever felt before.

"I retrieved out of the river a floating body; it is that of a Man, who is on the cusp of adulthood, but he feels like no other Man I have met or heard tale of," explained Elladan, "Arwen is taking care of his wounds as I speak."

"Show me," said Elrond simply and replaced the book on his desk and followed his son to the residences. They found Arwen in one of the guest quarters washing the face of the unconscious Man; she had placed all his effects on a table and had stripped him of his clothes to check for wounds.

"Greeting daughter," said Elrond and she allowed him to examine the Man, since Elrond had much greater art of Healing than she. He quickly determined that the Man was only bruised from his trip down the river and unconscious. Elrond pulled up the duvet to cover him.

"He will be fine Arwen, only bruised," said Elrond shortly and examined the belongings of the man. Everything radiating a brilliant magic, causing Elrond to frown in confusion, he picked up a short thin staff, which was barely eleven inches in length. It was made of a soft brown wood and had a beautiful finish. The moment Elrond touched the staff on the carved hilt; he felt a lurch as his very own magic was channelled briefly through the staff.

He gasped and put it down and stared the Man. He continued to focus his Sight through the Man.

"What is it father?" asked Arwen worriedly.

"Time has no meaning for this Man, and I sense a foreign power in him, it is not evil, but he shines in my sight almost as much as the Eldar, but different," explained Elrond peering at the slowly sleeping form. The Man had messy black hair and a strong proud face that radiated the nobility and strength of Numenor. Elrond opened an eyelid to find shocking radiant emerald green eyes. His trained eye caught an unsightly scar upon the Man's forehead, which radiated malice and evil. "So pure and good, yet he has been cursed with evil," commented Elrond showing his children the scar.

"What should we do father?" asked Elladan.

"You both should go and attend to your duties, I will keep vigil here, more I will tell you later," instructed Elrond.

Both his children bowed their heads slightly and took their leave. Elrond remained contemplating the fact, that the first messenger to contest the will of Sauron had arrived.

****

I awoke and found myself lying in a bed. At first, I thought that I had slept late, after a long unpleasant dream that still hovered on the edge of memory. Or perhaps I had been ill? But the ceiling of the room I was in looked strange; it was flat, and it had dark beams richly carved. I lay a little while longer looking at patches of sunlight on the wall, and listening to the sound of a waterfall.

The memory of what I had done did eventually return. The Dragon balls, my wishes, the attack of the Death Eaters. For a while I decided just to savour the warm bedding I was wrapped in and sighed contentedly. Eventually, I decided that I had to determine where I was. The Dragon had said he would send me to a place where I could learn to fulfil my destiny, so I sat up in bed and rubbed my eyes noting that my glasses were not nearby. The world rather looked a blur.

But from what I could tell, I was not alone. Next to by bed sat a man who was staring at me in silence.

"Glasses?" I asked looking around for them. I noticed a bundle on a desk not far from my bed and it looked like my possessions were all there, including my clothes. It was an odd way for me to realise I was naked under these soft duvets. The man seemed to grasp that I needed something and walked over to the desk.

"Which device do you require?" he asked in a rich melodic, yet grave voice.

"The spectacles to fit on my face, I am short sighted," I replied. The man nodded and after a few moments handed me my glasses. I quickly placed them on my face, only to be rather shocked at seeing something written out of legend and lore come to life in front of my very eyes. This was not a man that was moving to set next to me again; he was a high-elf, an Eldar. I had researched them with Hermoine once, when we were looking for information on the house-elves of my realm, and had broken off on a tangent.

"What is your name?" asked the elf.

"My given name in my native realm is Harry," I answered with a rather wide eyed expression.

"Well met, Harry, I am Lord Elrond Halfelven, you are in Rivendell, the Last Homely House east of the Sea, in Middle-Earth, this realm is known as Arda," said Elrond. I studied the elf for a while with a reverent fascination, his face was ageless, neither old nor young, though in it was written the memory of many things both happy and sad. His hair was dark as the shadows of twilight and upon it were set a circlet of silver; his eyes were grey as a clear evening, and in them was a light like the light of stars. Venerable he seemed as a king crowned with many winters, and yet hale as a tried warrior in the fullness of his strength.

"What year is it?" I asked, figuring they must have some sort of calendar system.

"Five hundred of the Third Age, October, the twenty fifth," answered Elrond, "please forgive my frankness but what do you call yourself? You come in the shape of a Man but your power and the fact that you are immortal to the ravages of time marks you otherwise."

"I am a wizard," I replied after mulling on his rather curious question, but I was in a foreign realm, they probably have never seen a wizard before.

"Have you come to contest the will of the Dark Lord Sauron?" asked Elrond seriously. I truly frowned at this question. This realm had a Dark Lord as well. Could this be why the Dragon sent me here? If I learned how to fight against this Sauron, could I contest Voldemort properly when I returned home?

"I come to contest the will of any Dark Lord who reveals himself, but I myself am far from ready for any such thing, I have come to prepare as much and as long as possible for this challenge, I am fated by Prophecy to do this," I replied, then Elrond at once stared at me and then around me, closing his eyes.

"Yes, I see the strings of Destiny twirling around you, but why are you so young?" asked Elrond in an astonished tone. I laughed briefly at the question.

"I am but sixteen years old, Lord Elrond, but my experience is more than many elders of my realm can demonstrate, I have come here for precisely that reason," I said, "to a place where time has no meaning for me, where I can prepare to meet my destiny in this realm and the other."

Elrond stared at me for a while and a small smile broke out on his face.

"Welcome, wizard, among the elves you will be known as Thaurdacil, please use this name and not the native one from your realm, it will avoid much confusion," stated Elrond and stood from his chair, "take your time to settle in Thaurdacil, in one hour I will send for you, as lunch will be served."

Elrond bowed and closed the door of the room behind him.

I sighed warily and climbed out of the bed. The first thing I did was to immediately restore my trunk to its proper size. I dressed in some emerald dress robes and trousers and a sturdy pair of boots. I stared at the mirror and concentrated briefly to lengthen my hair to my shoulders; it was much better behaved this way. My wand and its holster I strapped to my forearm, where it was hidden in my sleeve and I could easily retrieve it with a flick of my wrist. My ordinary clothes I hung on one of the chairs at the fine mahogany desk to let dry.

I walked through some curtains that were slightly billowing, in an attempt to get my bearings of the place I was in. The sight I saw shocked me with its beauty and radiance. Rivendell was truly a place full of life and magic. It was situated in a valley and the sky overhead was pure blue, with a trace of sun rising from the east over the peak.

I walked forward onto the balcony and breathed the fresh humid air, coming from the waterfall that ran through Rivendell. The voice of the crashing water was music in my ears and I felt I could sleep like a baby to its resonant hum.

I just stood there looking for I hardly knew how long until a soft knock on the door, drew me out of the wonderful reverie I was in. Rivendell would be a wonderful place to learn and train, if Lord Elrond would have me. I also knew I would have to explore Middle-Earth, and brave its dangers, learn of its people, and make allies. I would have to first see to the fall of Sauron, but I knew I had a long way to go.

I turned and walked to my door and opened it. There I was greeted with another sight of beauty.

"Greetings Thaurdacil," bowed a she-elf. She had smooth long honey blonde hair and she wore robes of purest white. Her eyes were blue as sapphires and her face was soft but strong, her nose was tiny, and I could only think of that as totally cute. Her pointed ears were remarkably pronounced, but her stature was quite small, I stood a full head above her. "I am ordered to guide you to the hall for lunch," she said.

"Certainly," I replied, "and you are?"

"I am called Enebaiel," she replied looking down from meeting my eyes. I hardly knew of proper protocol in greeting like this and in this realm. But her beauty kicked in a memory of seeing something on television back home. I reached down and took her hand and softly kissed it.

I have never recalled being so nervous in my life, as I awaited her reaction after dropping her hand. She still refused to meet my eyes but I could definitely see a tinge of red colouring her cheeks.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Enebaiel," I replied hoping to get the pronunciation right.

"Follow me," she said softly and led the way out of the guest quarters.

As she led the way I saw many other elves, busy with their daily chores of living. Enebaiel kept a running commentary of where we were; the place that most interested me was the very large library. The language all the books were written in though was totally foreign. It seemed that even though the people here spoke a very old version of English, their writing had evolved much differently. And here I had to add another listing to the things I had to learn, the languages of Middle-Earth. It would have to be done first before I could explore the knowledge that was in that library.

On a whole the elves who saw me as I passed kept their expressions neutral, on occasion I did catch one with a curious stare in his or her eyes, but it was rather quickly covered up. It seemed all elves were natural Occlumens or were at least taught it, as I could hardly pick up any thought from them.

Finally we entered what looked to be the dining hall of Elrond's house. I could see only four elves seated at the large dining table. Elrond sat at the head, while two other elves sat on his left I sensed a strong bond between them and it took me a moment to see from appearance that they were twins, there was a chair open to Elrond's left, but next to the empty chair sat a she-elf. Her black hair stood in remarkable similarity to mine.

"Please Thaurdacil, join us, sit on my right," instructed Elrond with a gesture to the empty seat.

"Thank you Lord Elrond," I replied and took a seat. I finally had a chance to study the she-elf and found her another study in beauty. If all the she-elves in Rinvendell were of this nature, I knew I was in deep trouble. The braids of her dark hair were touched by no frost and she was remarkably similar in form to Elrond, young she was and yet not. Her white arms and clear face were flawless and smooth, and the light of the stars was in her bright eyes grey as a cloudless night, she wore the presence of a Queen and thought and knowledge were in her eyes. Above her brow her head was covered with a cap of silver lace netted with small gems, glittering white; her soft grey clothes had no adornment save a girdle of leaves wrought in silver.

"Thaurdacil, let me introduce to you Elladan and Elohir, my twin sons," the twins slightly bowed their heads in greeting, "to your right sits my daughter, Arwen."

"It's a pleasure to meet you all," I stated with a friendly smile. The food was served and I found myself hopelessly lost in devouring the delicious food, the taste was just as good if not better than Hogwarts meals. At this point Elledan started a conversation.

"Forgive the question Thaurdacil, when I found you in the river, your hair was but short. Now you have long tresses that rival Arwen's, how can this be?" he asked with a slightly teasing look to his younger sister.

"You have my thanks for fishing me out of the river Elladan," I replied my mouth slightly quirking with a restrained smile, "one of the many skills a wizard may posses is extreme control over his body." I closed my eyes and briefly concentrated, changing my hair colour to a light blonde, and altering my ears to mirror those of an elf, and finally changing my eyes to blue. Next I focused on altering my features to a close replica of the twin. I regarded Elladan's rather shocked expression with amusement. "Are the ears wrong?" I asked lightly.

Arwen giggled softly and I could even see Elrond rather trying to stop a smile from breaking. With a soft shake of my head I returned myself to my normal appearance but keeping the long black hair and the elf ears. I was rather surprised to feel a soft finger touching the pointed ear after a while.

"It's real," gasped Arwen, "it's not an illusion."

"Of course it's not, I doubt I could throw a veil over my appearance that would affect how your minds perceive me," I replied returning idly to eating my meal, "your minds are well protected, indeed all the elves I have seen here are as well, do you train it, or are you born naturally with it?"

"It's trained when an elf reaches ten years old," replied Elrond.

"Among wizards we call this art, Occlumency," I stated, drinking some water to wash down the meal. The others at the table had finished their meals and the plates were taken away by elves, among who were Enebaiel. I found my eyes lingering on her as she took my plate and headed out of the hall, remarkably she had her eyes locked on mine as well. I broke contact as idly as possible and felt rather bothered. But it was time to get down to business.

"Lord Elrond, I humbly ask if you could care to allow me to consider Rivendell home during my stay in Middle-Earth, and if there are any tasks I can do to earn my keep." I asked rather nervously.

"The only task you should concern yourself with Thaurdacil, is to train and prepare yourself, something which I would gladly help you with," answered Elrond. I nodded in thanks.

"The mornings I need to train my wizardry," I stated, it reminded me to return my ears to normal, which I did.

"Very well," replied Elrond, "after lunch then you train with me in the skills necessary to survive Middle-Earth, one of the twins will fill in as necessary should I not be able to and should even they be abroad then Arwen will." I nodded in thanks. "Only once you are equipped enough, will you also be able to venture abroad, but do keep me informed as to your whereabouts, I might need to call on you."

"A question if I may Lord Elrond," I said, my curiosity rather got the better of me, the Lord of Rivendell nodded, "how old is Enebaiel?" I asked, my nervousness clearly showing. Lord Elrond smiled enigmatically and traded a glance with Arwen.

"You share your ages," he stated softly. I was rather proud of myself for not grinning like a fool. "You may explore Rivendell to your content Thaurdacil, do not stray beyond it."

Everyone stood to take their leave and I found myself leisurely walking around the grounds of Rivendell, I never left the compound though, feeling content to just explore all the buildings. As the afternoon drew on I came to the conclusion that the number of elves that dwelled in Rivendell was not that great. Only about three hundred elves of various sexes lived here. I found no dominance of sex in any one activity in Rivendell, the bow and arrow, and sword was practiced by both elves and she-elves. The house of Healing was the only place that had a slightly more she-elf leaning toward it.

I walked into the place, and it had a slightly more homely atmosphere than the hospital wing in Hogwarts. There were over twenty single beds in two rows, and soft white draperies that hung on the walls. The place was well illuminated with light from the afternoon sun through the windows. My attention was immediately drawn to the bed halfway down the ward where a matronly she-elf who I assumed was a Healer was busy tending to a patient. I walked closer and saw that it was Enebaiel who was lying on top of the covers as the elfling's hand was being examined. I walked closer and my approach was noticed by both. I could feel Enebaiel's stare on me as I walked to the other side of the bed.

She had a gash on her hand; it looked to have been made by a knife.

"What happened?" I asked to the Healer.

"An accident in the kitchens," replied the Healer. I watched as she cleaned the wound and was about to bandage it when an idea hit me. I placed a hand on the Healers arm to stop her.

"Allow me," I merely said and drew my wand slowly. The Healer seemed too curious to stop me. I met Enebaiel's eyes again and twirled the wand. "Sano," I muttered softly and a blue light emitted from my wand. The spell sealed the cut and it looked like there wouldn't even be a scar. I had picked up the spell from Madam Pomfrey after one of my many stays in her ward over the years. Enebaiel frowned disbelievingly as she rubbed at her now uninjured hand, obviously testing it to see if it was an illusion.

"Young man," said the Healer in an impressed tone, "you have done this youngling a great service, and it would have been a difficult task to keep a scar from the hand."

"It's a pleasure," I said with a smile, "unfortunately I do not specialize in applying my power to the Healing arts, it is but a trifle spell picked up from my many stays in wards such as these."

"Pity," said the Healer. I looked for a moment to Enebaiel, who was still looking at her healed hand. I bowed my head to take my leave and heard as I was about to walk out of the ward: "Thank you Thaurdacil," said Enebaiel. I turned and nodded with a smile at her.

I returned to my quarters and brought out my interactive Pensieve for the first time since I had arrived in Middle-Earth. Once inside I was debating whether or not to tell the memory Dumbledore, about where I now was, how I got to Middle-Earth, and the reasons why. But I reasoned instantly that he would have to know for the sake of merely keeping him informed as to my situation, and considering some of the things I would ask him to train me in.

Dumbledore sat calmly in the armchair as I explained the full story. After I finished, the memory of Albus Dumbledore sat deep in thought for a while and I could practically see the twinkle in his eyes and the wheels turning behind them. A deep smile formed behind the long white beard of the elder wizard.

"I understand Harry," replied Dumbledore, "so what do you want to learn next?"

I could only gape at the Headmaster. He had accepted the facts so easily and merely smiled and moved on.

"But..." I started. Dumbledore interrupted with a calm gesture of his hand.

"Do you not think I have sensed our travel Harry to this foreign realm? The magic here is much different, the only way I could explain it to you, is that it's like tasting two different vintages of red wines from different vineyards," explained Dumbledore, "I had long felt Harry that events in the wizarding world would spiral out of control before you could prepare yourself for the final confrontation with Voldemort. I have even given thought to procuring you a Time-Turner, but it would mean Ministry involvement and Voldemort surely has his sources there. I am thanking you Harry for finding an ideal solution. Here we can train for as long as we desire without ageing and any possibility of Ministry control over you."

"Very well, Professor," I nodded.

"Please Harry, call me Albus, I think we are in truth long past the need to address each other so formally," said Albus, "what do you want to learn next?"

"Apparition," I replied after a moments thought.

"Good, let's get started," said Albus with a twinkle in his eye.

****

I met with Lord Elrond during lunch the next day. I had as yet not been able to apparate, but Albus told me that it would at least take a week to get to my first apparition at the rate of study we were going at. Learning to apparate with line of sight was only the first step, there was also the co-ordinate apparition which involved rather complex Arithmancy, from there the skills progressed to pre-cognitive apparition (appearing at a place I have already been to, no matter the distance), afterwards he said it would get even more advanced. I would have to learn to reduce my apparition displacement, which was the loud popping and cracking noises I heard whenever someone apparated. Albus said that the Weasley twins were a good example of overly excessive apparition displacement.

I accompanied Lord Elrond to the library I passed through the previous day, and we sat at a desk in the centre.

"Firstly, I will begin to teach you the Elvish language, there are three dialects, only two of which will matter to you, they are Quenya and Sindarin. Quenya is spoken only in formal ceremony these days, as it is one of the ancient tongues, Sindarin is the dialect most spoken by elves in Middle-Earth," explained Elrond.

Parchment, quill and ink were brought forth and for three hours I worked with the Lord of Rivendell. For such a beautiful language, it was very complex, I had to learn to speak my vowels differently, and that by far would be the biggest challenge.

The late afternoon he spent with me in weapons training, the first being the sword. Initially we started with wooden practice swords, but after ten minutes graduated to the real thing as it became apparent to Elrond that my skill with blade was initially sufficient. The sword he gave me was a beautifully curved gleaming blade with Sindarin inscriptions on its side.

"As your skill with the blade increases, you can ask the smiths to tailor a blade for you, or if you really want to, you could learn to make the blade yourself and perhaps imbue it with virtues and powers as you see fit," explained Elrond to me as I panted with sweat running down my face. I was dressed only in my jeans and shoes and had long discarded the shirt I wore as it became soaked with sweat. I noted with grim amusement that Elrond seemed to have hardly broken a sweat.

"Tomorrow, we will work on the bow, the day thereafter, the sword, and so on," explained Elrond.

"Han Taar Elrond," I bowed and went up to my quarters. (Thank you, Lord Elrond) I found that the sheets on my bed had been changed and my room tidied and organised. I kept my magical items locked away in my trunk and protected it with a couple of mild hexes and wards, so there was no chance of an elf accidentally falling in the Pensive and so forth.

The next item on my agenda was to get cleaned up. There was no direct bathroom adjoining my quarters but a mere walk down the hall there was a bath remarkably similar to the Prefect's bathroom in Hogwarts, only about half the size though. I closed the door and took off my clothes. It was deep enough to jump in but I rather preferred to enter slowly feet first. The water was remarkably hot, and I wondered how the temperature was maintained.

For a while I waded luxuriously through the water and then dived underneath to soak my hair. On one side of the bath I discovered some solutions in glass bottles, they were labelled in Sindarin. I gingerly tested each one and rubbed them between my hands to see if it would form bubbles or soap. The green solution reacted remarkably like shampoo, so I chanced using that on my long tresses of black hair.

The long soak in the warm water was exactly what my body needed after such a gruelling day, but I knew it would get better with time. After twenty minutes I climbed out and considered for the first time that there were no towels. I grabbed my wand and performed a simple charm to blow hot air from my wand. I was dry in a minute but my hair was another story and took much longer. I dressed in my jeans and ran back to my room. A comb was duly appropriated and succeeded in taming my hair, which I shortened with a thought to just above my shoulders. I dressed in my emerald robes again and headed down to the dining hall.

All the seats save one were taken tonight, which must be mine. The elves that had been filling the hall with a melodious chatter grew quiet for a time as I walked to my seat to the right of Lord Elrond. It would be an interesting evening.

Arda, Middle-Earth, Year 541 of the Third Age

I sat upon my white stallion, who I named Izre, which was merely a shortened version of my true name in Adunaic. I had decided to travel incognito, so I wore elvish clothes and leggings and boots, with ornate leather gauntlets. I had not fashioned my own sword yet, so I bore the sword that I always trained with. On my back was quiver full with arrows and a bow slung over it. My ears were morphed to those of an elf's but my wand was always with me, ready to use at a moments notice. My hair had long since been braided in elf-fashion and was out of my face if I were to find myself in battle. With me were Elladan and Elohir on their own steeds. We were slowly trotting on the outskirts of Trollshaws forest, just west of Rivendell.

A scout report had reached Elrond that a number of orcs had been sighted moving into the forest. Elladan was leading point with his mount and they peered into the forest.

The forest was rather dark under its boughs and it was rather hard for me to see or make out anything, but I was actually sensing with my magic more, and what I read did not bode well.

"Glamhoth," I whispered. (Orcs) My two comrades nodded, it rather astounded me that there were orcs this close to Rivendell. I pulled out my bow and kept it in my left hand. The bow was the first weapon I chose to make of my own. It was ornately carved with designs and patterns native to Rivendell, and I had imbued a few native powers within it. Any arrow that the bow fired was enchanted to pierce armour effortlessly, it would probably work with anything except mithril armor, which was rare enough anyway and no orc would wear it. Another virtue that it had was that it was indestructible from normal harm.

Elladan raised a fist and lowered it, the signal to dismount.

"Dar-si Izra, Im thel-be ad," I murmured to my stallion, stroking his great neck. (Stay here Izra, I will be back) Izra snorted in acceptance.

The three of us skulked into the forest, our footfalls as light as swift and surefooted. Not a sound betrayed our movement; I was rather amazed at the silence with which I walked. Lord Elrond was an excellent and exacting tutor.

I sped up a little to catch up to Elladan, I had long since grown into my full adult body and stood eye to eye with the elf. With a few hand signals I told him that I sensed the orcs in the direction of north-west from our current position and they were rather close. He nodded and they paced silently in the night the only sound coming from rustling leaves as a slight wind stirred. We had to approach up-wind as orcs had very good sense of smell. This resulted in a rather long jog around the general position of the orcs.

It was soon all too apparent what we were dealing with. Around a rather small smokeless campfire stood huddled a bunch of orcs, trying to keep warm. They were such disgusting, cruel figures. I had long since got over the idea of killing them as maybe a bad thing, since they would not hesitate to kill anything, even themselves. I had seen companies of orcs like these immolate themselves over a mere spilt bread or something equally as trivial. Elladan gestured for me to climb an overlooking tree that would give me a nice vantage point to fire my arrows. Elohir had circled to approach from the east, while Elladan moved in from the north. The twins preferred the sword to the bow, and while they could easily beat me in a shooting contest, they were much more proficient by elvish standards with the blade. I brought an arrow out, fitted and pulled, aiming for the orc that seemed the biggest. The rear of my arrow and the pulled string was pulled back by three fingers (thumb, fore and middle finger).

A soft whistle that sounded like a bird, reached my ears and I did not hesitate. My first arrow sailed into the night and straight through the skull of the orc I was aiming at. A moment later I sent another arrow into the chest of another orc, and another.

By now the orcs realised they were under attack and were frantically trying to scamper up and raise their weapons. But the twins were already among them, swinging high and low, hewing orc. My arrows killed another three orcs, before Elohir killed the last one. I carefully sensed around and could find no more orcs in the general vicinity. I came down from the tree and waited for the twins to join me.

"A?" asked Elladan. (And?)

"Im caint eithir pin," I answered. (I can't spy anybody else)

"Aen do u vel-ennas u orcoth," said Elohir. (That does not mean there are not more orcs.)

"Thenin," conceded Elladan. (True,)

And Elohir was correct, tracking through the forest for most of the night; we waylaid another three groups of orcs. They numbered usually no more than eight or nine per group. Elladan received a glancing blow from an orc sabre, but I easily disinfected it and sealed it up good as new with two quick spells.

The hunt had taken us through most of the night and the sun was peaking just as we mounted our horses again, for the journey back to Rivendell. We ate some elfish way bread (lemdas) as we rode home, as we did not want to stop to eat. Halfway through the morning we passed the fords that crossed the Bruinnen River and we finally arrived in Rivendell at midday.

While I adopted my disguise outside of Rivendell, inside I did not. I returned my ears to their normal rounded shape as the House of Elrond came into view. I handed off Izra at the stables, and took my time to groom the horse and examine his hoofs.

"Any problems Izra I should know about?" I asked the horse. Izra snorted and stamped his right rear foot. I carefully bent the indicated leg and saw the shoe was a bit loose, which I corrected easily. "Better?" Izra snorted again. "Oh, so you want to be pampered more hmm?" Izra looked at me with one eye and I got the message.

I got back to brushing Izra, and afterwards made sure his manger was well stocked. There was no need for saddles and so forth, as I was trained to ride in elfish fashion the horse will bear you or it will not, as simple as that.

It was then that I went in search of Lord Elrond. I found him and the twins waiting for me in the Hall of Fire, a place where one could come who wished for quiet and a space of thought; it was adjoining to the large dining hall and in the centre a flame was kept burning all year long, for there was little other light.

"What tidings have you?" asked Elrond. Elladan reported the events of their foray to the forest; he did not leave out any detail, so I was content to just listen to the twin.

"What think you Istar-ion?" asked Elrond to me.

"Well, it's a matter of debate what the orcs were doing there in the first place," I replied at first, "they could simply be a bunch of scavengers, hoping to ambush people as the road passes the verges of the Trollshaw, but then again, orcs are hardly the most creative of thinkers nor do they have much in the way of leadership, so I can only conclude that they were sent there by someone with sway over them."

It was not much, but it was my ten pennies worth of thought into the fountain. Elrond asked his two sons of their opinion and got variations on the same theme I brought up. He dismissed us.

"Istar-ion, stay a moment," ordered Lord Elrond. The name Elrond addressed me with had come with the close relationship I had developed with the Chief Eldar. I had very little parental upbringing in my life, and after two years at Rivendell I confessed this to Elrond during a language training session. Elrond suggested that he be an outlet for this, but I felt the only way I could share the experience with Elrond was by depositing the memories in the Pensive.

It was barely a day afterwards that Elrond told me that he was 'adopting' me, by elfish standards anyway. Elrond had told me that I needed to experience a proper parental upbringing or else it could lead to problems later in life, and that he needed to experience love and affection among family. The offer had stunned me so, that I was moved to tears and the Chief Eldar had grabbed me in a rough hug.

From that day forth, I was to be his 'wizard-son' which is what my nickname meant.

"Ha ennas tarias, ada?" I asked with a frown of concern. (What is the problem father?) Elrond frowned at me for a moment and I could see the calculating look behind his eyes as he was weighing something in his mind. I waited calmly for him, since I knew Elrond had the very weighty gift of Foresight, and it could literally take him on journeys into possible futures for a long time.

"Aphad-nin," beckoned Lord Elrond and walked out of the Hall of Fire. (Follow me,)

Elrond walked me through his home to a dimly lighted and pillared corridor; I had never much paid mind to what was down here. For a moment I was searching my memories trying to wonder why, when Elrond stopped halfway through the corridor at a statue. For the first time I examined the statue closely and noticed it was a representation of a she-elf, and she was holding a large stone tray. The tray was covered in a blanket of fine silk and on top of it rested a hilt of a great sword; the blade had obviously seen better days as there were shards of it delicately placed on the tray. I noticed that all of the shards were there and that the blade of the sword could easily be forged again.

The piece of the blade that was still attached to the hilt was still as razor sharp as the day it was originally sharpened.

"You see here the shards of the sword Narsil," stated Elrond, "look behind you."

I turned to see a large mural painting in the alcove directly across from the statue. It was a truly terrifying scene. In a place of rock, ash, and darkness, a knight in armour raised what I saw was the broken hilt of Narsil against an overpowering figure of darkness with a really evil looking helm and red eyes.

"Sauron," I stated in another world as I lightly touched the representation of the Dark Lord, "Voldemort has the exact same eyes."

"For long you have wondered, Istar-ion, why I kept the upper level of my library off limits to you, and have told you very little of Sauron," stated Elrond, I merely shrugged, if anything, I knew what it was like to want to keep a secret, "there is a reason for this."

"I knew there was ada," I said, "so I did not press you on it."

"I respect that," nodded Elrond, "but I feel it is time you know of the situation Middle-Earth is facing as a whole. It was about over three thousand years ago that the battle with Sauron, truly began. Sauron himself is a being of evil, malice, greed; his power is not that dissimilar from yours, it could be argued he is a wizard. But I digress," explained Elrond, "three thousand odd years ago he endeavoured to seduce the Eldar and the other races of Middle-Earth with his knowledge. He wrapped a veil of counterfeit over himself that no other Eldar but I could see but glimpses past. He appeared mighty and wise and walked in a cloak of fairness and justice."

"Gil-galad, a Chief Eldar at the time was the only other who saw past Sauron's deceptions, but critically he succeeded with the majority of the Eldar, and most importantly the Elven-smiths of Eregion were won over. And he began to instruct them in his arts of power for over three centuries," said Elrond, "there the smiths forged the Rings of Power, and in each ring there was bound the will to govern each of the races. Three Rings for the Elves, seven for the Dwarf-lords and nine for each of the Kings of Men. Each Ring had unique properties and bestowed a power to the wearer. For example, the Dwarf rings hold sway over rock, stone and earth, as they endeavoured to mine for mineral wealth."

"What does the Three do?" I asked curiously.

"You know that we Eldar are fascinated with growing things, and things fair to the eye, one of the Three for instance hold power over the Fire of life in all its forms," answered Elrond, "however, barely ten years after the Rings of Power were handed out and in use, Sauron forged in secret a Master Ring, or the One. All the other Rings were subservient to the One. Immediately, the Eldar finally perceived Sauron's designs in sharing his knowledge and hid the Three, what follows is called the Dark Years, as we lived through over two thousand years of Sauron's domination of Middle-Earth. Six hundred years ago, hope shined again, as the Last Alliance of Elves and Men was formed. I was one of its leaders and we moved the Alliance to strike in as large a number as could be massed to the very fortress, Barad-dur in the land of Mordor, which Sauron occupied. Eleven years of brutal war followed until Sauron himself was pressed to confront us."

Elrond sighed wearily and rubbed his eyes remembering the effects that a single blow from Sauron's mace had.

"Is that how the scene in the mural took place?" I asked.

"Yes, Isuldur, the Prince of Gondor at the time, used the broken hilt of Narsil to cut the One Ring from Sauron's hand. As Sauron had poured the best part of himself into the One, he passed away from this existence," replied Elrond.

"But you believe it possible that Sauron could return?" I asked.

"It's not just possible Istar-ion, it's a certainty. The One Ring was never destroyed. It can only be unmade in the very place it was forged, in the volcano of Orodruin. The Ring fell to Isildur and I accompanied him to destroy it, but the Ring is perilous, it is almost alive in and of itself, and it seduced Isildur with visions of power and glory in front of my eyes, he refused to destroy it. The Ring betrayed him and it was lost as his body floated down the Anduin River," said Elrond.

"So Sauron cannot truly die until the One is destroyed," I commented to myself, it would be interesting to get Albus's opinion on this.

"Indeed," said Elrond, "the upper floor of the library is open to you now, you need to know what you are truly fighting."

I nodded and embraced Elrond in an elfish hug: "Thank you for your trust, ada," I stated sincerely.

"Go Istar-ion," he dismissed me. I nodded and walked silently down the corridor and headed to the library, I had some heavy research and thinking to do.

***

"Fascinating," murmured Albus in deep thought as I finished telling the story of the One Ring. The memory of Albus sat in his favourite armchair again.

"I of all people know how strong Elrond is in mind, and if Sauron could have partially fooled him and dupe the entire Middle-Earth, well, to wield power on that scale, its mind boggling," I said.

"Well, you have heard Sauron being called 'the Deceiver' on occasion, now we know why," said Albus, "I must admit though, Sauron increasingly makes Voldemort seem like an amateur."

"Yeah, I mean to hold dominion over all three races and an entire world, Sauron actually achieved it," I sighed heavily, "I could tell Elrond still felt heavy remorse at not seeing through Sauron's machinations. I mean it was his people who did the labour of making the Rings of Power, the guilt was there."

"That is the burden of having a conscience Harry," said Albus, "it saddens me though that the Race of Men is in such a state."

"The nine Kings refused to cast their Rings aside, and they became slaves to Sauron's will, they are now called the Nazgul, or Ringwraiths. It's odd though; their descriptions make them almost sound like Dementors at least in terms of their effects on a person, but they barely manifest a physical form," I frowned.

"Indeed," frowned Albus speculatively.

"That's it!" I cried excitedly, now that the subject had been breached. Albus had asked me what I wanted to learn next and I told him I would decide on my errand to the Trollshaw forest. "Let's figure out a way to kill a Dementor," I smiled brightly.

"I see you've decided what you wanted to try next," stated Albus, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "I must add however, that all the literature that I have point out that it is impossible, but since when has that ever stopped you?" he asked rhetorically. I smirked at him.

"I think we must only devote a portion of our time to it, there are lots of other things still to learn and I must keep up with my duelling," I said.

"Of course Harry," smiled Albus.

****

The next day I found myself in Elrond's library as soon as I had finished cleaning up and eating breakfast. I had to find some books that would help in the Dementor research. There had to be something in this large extensive library that dealt with it, in some obscure manner. Dementors did not inhabit this world but there had to be something, anything, it was a rather forlorn hope, maybe the Eldar magic that elves had naturally could be used as a point of approach.

I grabbed a few books and settled downstairs and began browsing through them. I was barely ten minutes into my work when someone sat down across from me. I did not need to see, to know who it was.

"Sullinad Enebaiel," I greeted without looking up. (Greetings Enebaiel)

"Sullinad Thaurdacil," her honey rich musical voice greeted me. That voice never failed to amaze me, for a while I had wondered if Fawkes had appeared and she had taken lessons from the Phoenix. "Man a le cared?" she asked with a smile. (What are you doing?)

I finally looked up and met her sapphire eyes, and I knew someday those eyes would be the death of me, as they sparkled with mischievousness and I could see a small smile tugging at her mouth.

Enebaiel was far from the elfling I met forty-one years ago. She had grown to her adult height but was still shorter than I was by a couple of inches. She had filled in all the right places, enough that she was even more the study of beauty to my eyes, and it irritated me. I was like a moth to a flame. We had formed a steady friendship over the years and we rather shared our commiserations with each other, as we were both in heavy training. She was still underage by Elf standards and she only 'graduated' at age one hundred and twenty five.

She was training to become a Healer. I never asked if it had anything to do with my healing of her in the House of Healing. I figured it would be presumptuous on my part to assume that.

"Amtir i Nazgul a egladhrim angol," I replied softly. (Looking up the Nazgul and elf magic)

"Why?" she asked suddenly. That sent alarm bells in my head. She only spoke in the common tongue to me when she was either angry or rather insistent.

"In my native realm there are beasts that have plagued us since the dawn of recorded history, their effect are similar to the Nazgul, and there is no way yet known how to kill them," I replied.

"Can you please explain them to me in more detail?" she asked with a hopeful tone in her voice. She had often asked about my home realm and where I came from, I always found a way out of it by only giving the barest of details, since my home realm was not a happy place for me. I frowned a moment and considered that the more heads working on this the better and Enebaiel would definitely be thinking outside the box, so to speak.

"Wizards call them Dementors and they drown their victims in feelings of despair by robbing them of all hope, happiness, and the desire to live, they feed on these feelings; you feel cold, a deep cold to the marrow of your very bones, only those strong of mind can stand up to that, and not be paralysed," I explained, "when the victim is drowned in their own despair, the beast comes closer and administers its most frightening weapon, it kisses you and sucks your soul out of your mouth and into itself, the body is left alive but soon withers and dies."

"Something like that cannot be a natural creation," she stated fervently.

"It is not known how they come about, but that is the prevailing theory among wizards of my realm," I replied, "the only known magical defence against them is a spell that will repel them, which is very hard to do."

"Athea?" she asked.(Help?) I nodded happily and she grabbed one of the books I had selected and began leafing through it.

"How are your studies going?" I asked after a while of contented silence.

"Rough," she replied, "it's very difficult."

"It's the same in my realm as well, the requirements to merely begin training to be a Healer is very high, even higher than those of Auror's," I said.

"Aurors? I'm not familiar with that word," she stated. I mentally kicked myself for forgetting that Enebaiel would not know.

"It's a wizard who specializes in law enforcement and combat magic, they catch dark wizards and witches, and as a last resort maybe even kill them," I replied.

"Fascinating," she replied and returned to searching through the book.

For another three hours we kept at it, fetching more books and parchments, with anything that seemed helpful. I made notes of any book that had information that could help in the eventual creation of a new charm.

But then another thought came to me, as I remembered the components of the Patronus Charm. The incantation that summoned the Patronus in Latin, translated literally meant 'to call a protector'. I did not just want to protect myself from the Dementor, I wanted to kill it, end of story. So I needed 'to call a killer' no, 'to call a destroyer'. It was an intriguing idea, one that I had to speak to Albus about.

"Man o ll pedoin i edhellen?" she suggested. (What about incanting in elvish?)

"Ha er naw," I reflected, (It's an idea) "but the Eldar have long since passed from my realm, Sindarin is a language only studied by the most advanced of academics. This spell must have the quality of being easy to learn."

"To devise a spell of that power and keep it simple will be most difficult," she replied. I only nodded and sighed wearily, Enebaiel sighed a few moments after that.

"Post an annan?" I suggested. (Rest for a time)

She nodded and we went on a lazy walk about the grounds around the House of Elrond. We walked in relative silence, just enjoying each others company and only talking when we felt a subject was worthy of interrupting our companionable silence. It was as we walked over the stone bridge that linked the two sections of the House of Elrond that I became aware of troubling emotions coming from my friend. That was odd in itself; Enebaiel had a much disciplined mind and occluded her mind wonderfully. But something was happening that broke through all that training. I could sense frustration and fear mostly. I stopped her by lightly grabbing her upper arm.

"Man ha i tarias?" I asked seriously. (What is the problem?)

She did not answer at first and leaned on the thick stone railing of the bridge, and looked pensively at the flowing water that was about to cascade down the waterfall.

"You know Healer Nestad?" she asked somewhat rhetorically. Nestad was the matronly elf healer who I often consulted with when I studied magical healing some years ago. I nodded with a frown, wondering where this was going. "In a few weeks she wants to visit her kin in Lorthlorien, and I cannot be apprenticed to another Healer to fill in for her, as she plans to stay for about three hundred years," she continued rather miserably. A flit of emotions burned themselves in me, my only best friend other than my adopted kin, was leaving. Anger roiled through me and my jaw tightened as I suppressed acting out on any irrational action that it may inspire.

Enebaiel is as close to me as Hermoine is, and now...I could not bring myself to think about it anymore, I sighed heavily.

"If your parents were here, they would take Nestad to task for doing this," I growled. Enebaiel's parents felt the calling to take the ship into the West merely five years after she was born, and a lot of the she-elves had helped in raising her, Arwen was most prominent in that role however.

"So they would," she commented sadly.

"But nothing would stop me," I half-suggested.

"Please Thaurdacil, don't do that, she is my Mistress-in-Trade, she could make my studies even more difficult in retaliation," she pleaded.

"Just a tiny little jinx," I pleaded in my best whining voice.

"No!" she retorted angrily, her face flushing red; she looked absolutely mesmerizing like that.

"Very well," I laughed trying to make the best of the situation, "how are you travelling?"

"By foot, what else? It is two hundred miles to Lothlorien as the crow flies, and you have to cross the mountains," she stated insistently.

"How many are in the party taking you?" I asked with a frown.

"It's just me and Nestad," she stated simply.

"You can't be serious?" I asked aghast that they would travel on their own.

"Hey, we may both be Healers but we can wield blade as true as any," said Enebaiel, "besides you and the twins hewed over fifty orcs in a single night."

"We had initiative, surprise and a little planning on our side, something you two will not have," I retorted, "that settles it, I am coming with you."

"No you will not!" she shouted. "Stealth and speed are our allies," she argued again.

"I always wanted to meet the Lady of Lothlorien," I stated absently, pretending I did not hear her, "I think the feeling may be mutual."

"What makes you think Nestad will agree?" she countered hotly, her face flushing.

"Healer Nestad has already agreed," came a rather powerful voice from behind me, I turned to see Lord Elrond standing behind us. I mentally remonstrated myself for dropping my senses in the argument, otherwise I would have surely felt Elrond's approach. "Even if she did not agree, I would have ordered Thaurdacil to accompany you on the journey to Lorien," said Elrond his eyes blazing as he stared Enebaiel down, who looked contrite and kept her eyes fixed on the floor. "You still have a long way to go Enebaiel, your outburst served no purpose, and your emotions are worn on your sleeve," said Elrond in a strong voice. I rather winced in sympathy for my friend, getting a remonstration from Elrond was the worst feeling in the world. "Thaurdacil, meet me in my upper study in twenty minutes," said Elrond with a nod to me.

"Yes ada," I replied. Elrond disappeared into the house and I turned to see how Enebaiel was doing. I was nearly bowled over as she charged at me and threw her arms around my chest in a deep hug. She buried her face in my chest and I could feel sobs pound through her body and her tears started to wet my robes. I in turn put my arms around her immediately and stroked her hair, murmuring calming noises into her ear.

I was really curious as to why she was so emotional, what kind of tears were these? Was it the fact that she was leaving Rivendell? Her emotions were a torrent that washed over me and I could make little sense of it, what I could make out was huge relief and frustration.

I noticed that she was no longer crying but kept her arms firmly locked around me, her breathing was heavy and she occasionally sniffed.

"Why do you cry?" I asked softly.

"I could not bear the thought of leaving you for that long," she mumbled. My heart was racing as she said that. "I have no kin in Lothlorien, even here I only have you and Arwen," she said.

"Do you want me to move with you?" I asked after only thinking for a moment, my feelings on this matter was rather clear.

"Would you?" she asked hopefully raising her head and meeting my eyes. Right now I was wondering if I was getting a heart attack, her gaze lanced through my soul.

"Yes," I answered simply. What happened next I would remember forever; we both sought each others lips for a tentative first kiss. Her lips were wonderfully soft I thought in addition to the fact that it felt like I was on fire. Her arms hooked around my neck and forced me to lean a bit down as the kiss deepened. Through my soul, I sensed how hers and mine fitted together, it was as if we were one soul that resided in two bodies, and I felt the bonds that connected us. I broke the kiss slowly.

"How long have you known?" I asked softly, referring to the bonds that I sensed.

"Ever since Arwen taught me how to sense the bonds, about five years ago," she replied sincerely. It strained me to know how long she had kept this fact bottled up; it would have saved me many sleepless nights wondering how she felt. I then remembered that Elrond had asked to see me and by all indications over half an hour had passed since the Chief Eldar had left.

"We will talk later, meet me in the Hall of Fire," I said, she nodded wiping some stray tears from her eyes. I pulled away from her and walked towards the house of Elrond. I was not even off the bridge when I heard a startled gasp from Enebaiel. Instinct, kicked in and I whirled round to see what the problem was. She was staring at me as if she had never truly seen me before, with wide eyes, but she mastered herself and shooed me along.

"Lord Elrond will most definitely tell you what I see," she said. I shrugged and walked into the house to the upper floor and met Elrond in his study. My father did indeed look startled for an instant as he saw me, but merely raised an eyebrow and stared at me.

"You asked for me, ada?" I prompted getting rather nervous.

"Indeed I did," stated Elrond gravely. "But that conversation is now useless. I was going to tell you the motivations behind Enebaiel's behaviour, as you would not be able to make much sense of it. I should give you more credit."

"It was rather clear ada, as she explained it to me," I said.

"Really?" frowned Elrond, I nodded in reply. "And you both provided a physical basis for the acknowledgement of your bonds?" he asked, I gathered he was asking that we kissed, I nodded again. "You realise then, that the life of the Eldar has then been blessed to you," said Elrond.

"What?" I asked incredulously.

"You and Enebaiel are of one soul, very rare, and as soon as you both acknowledged this to be fact, it tied you to the fate of the Eldar, in other words Istar-ion, when you return to your home realm you will remain immortal from a natural death," explained Elrond. I felt my stomach drop through the floor at this statement. "Look at yourself," said Elrond.

With a supreme effort of will I stayed focused through the emotions that were rolling through me, and I stared down at my body.

"See beyond what is, see through reality, see, see," chanted Elrond. I gasped at what I did now see. From my body a strong white glow radiated, I looked up and the world around me had changed to my perception, Elrond I saw now as a glowing white figure too and the rest of the world was matted in a swirling blur. I gasped and closed my eyes hastily retreating; when I opened them the world seemed normal. "You now saw a realm parallel to this to which you are now a resident, as is I"

I stood shakily and looked at Elrond.

"I need time," was all I said and retreated out of the room to dwell on the fact that I would outlive everyone back home, if Voldemort did not kill me.

****

A week later I had all my belongings in my trunk and shrunk it and clipped it to a necklace that hung around my neck. I had placed a modified Unbreakable Sticking charm on the necklace; so that none save I could remove it from my neck. I was dressed in full Elf regalia. I also had my bow, sword, quiver, wand and a backpack full of provisions. The backpack I had charmed and transfigured to be feather light and have a twice as large interior. As a final touch I morphed my ears to complete my elfish disguise.

I met with Elrond, Elladan and Elohir and many other members of the household. We stood at the main arch that led into the ground of the Homely House and said our goodbyes. Enabaiel and Nestad were already waiting with their weapons and gear on them ready to go.

I joined with my travelling companions and with a last look to the Homely House I turned and walked forward. We crossed the bridge and slowly up the long steep paths that led out of Rivendell; and after a while we came to the high moor where the wind hissed through the heather. Then with one glance at the Last Homely house below us we strode away.

****

The journey to Lothlorien I would remember for one thing, it felt like it went on forever. I had never journeyed outside Rivendell on foot; Izre always bore me on my errands with the twins. But after the first two days of walking during day and resting at night I actually got an appreciation for the distance we would be travelling. It made me really wish that I still had my Firebolt, and as far as I knew it was still in Professor McGonagall's possession after Umbridge was chased out of the school.

One evening by the small campfire I studied the map of Middle-Earth that I had copied onto parchment. Two hundred miles in a straight line from Rivendell to Lorien, the actual journey would be much longer.

I looked up from the map to regard my two companions. Enebaiel slept soundly, and it was rather fascinating for me to watch her like this. She was a picture of peaceful slumber. Her hands were cushioned under her cheek to relieve the pressure from the hard ground underneath. Nestad, I found out quite humorously lightly snored if she lay on her back. I was not asleep because I had to remain on watch, staying awake was no problem for me though; I had a lot of practice with it. I would pay for it later though.

I returned to study the map. Tomorrow morning after breakfast we would use the High Pass to cross over the Misty Mountains. Then once on the other side we would head south following the flow of the Anduin River which would be on our left, then we would cross the Gladden River and then into the eaves of the Lorien forest, where Nestad would guide us to the Lady and her kin.

The night was uneventful and I woke my companions just before dawn. Enebaiel could not resist the urge to kiss me as I woke her, and it rather pleasantly surprised me that she would be so bold. It was during breakfast that I told my companions of my decisions on the course we would take. An inspiration came to me during the night on how we could speed our journey.

"After crossing the High Pass we would head east with the road, all to the way to the old Ford, that allows passage over the Anduin River, we would then use a canoe to travel downstream up to point where Lorien passes us on our right, where we will disembark directly into the forest," I said.

In the stunned silence that followed I wondered how good they would be at handling a canoe.

"Thaurdacil, we have no boats," pointed out Nestad. I looked at the Healer with a bemused smile and summoned all of the remaining firewood we had gathered with a flick of my wand. Another flick and I transfigured the wood into a deep canoe that could easily hold all three of us and our possessions.

"There is our boat, as long as we have enough wood I can use as a source material I can conjure about anything my imagination desires from it," I said and allowed the two she-elves to examine the boat briefly before I turned it back to firewood.

The walk of the High Pass was rough and steep, and I was thoroughly thankful that it was not winter as it would be totally impossible to use it with the snow and ice that would form on the narrow winding path. It took two whole days to just cross to the other side of the mountains. The road east made for a nice change; it was flat, worn and clearly marked. It was still some seventy miles to the Old Ford but the road made it much more bearable. On the first day of journey on the road we made a good distance of just over thirty miles, we would arrive at the ford day after tomorrow.

We arrived there at mid-afternoon and decided to make camp there and take a bit of extra rest. The voice and sight of the river greeted us gladly as if it was aware of our journey and welcomed us.

I took out my bedspread and lay down with a huff of exhaustion. I had taken watch the night before and I was thoroughly tired. Despite having the life of the Eldar, it did not give me the huge natural stamina that elf's seemed to posses. I was still biologically a Man. With a glance I saw that Enebaiel had laid her bedspread next to mine and sat cross-legged on it facing me. I wanted to say that I was very weary and in no mood to have a deep conversation but I found it unnecessary.

"I know you are weary, I can feel it, I will not bother you for long," she said softly.

"You aren't a bother, speak and be content," I smiled wearily.

"You've been silent for a long time on our journey and I find I miss the sound of your voice," she said.

"I'm sorry; it's just that I have been sensing a hidden menace and my eyes cannot make sense of it, much of my mind has turned outward to decipher why," I said.

"Really?" her eyes widened in worry, "do you know..."

"All I can tell you is that this peril is close and approaching us from up the river," I stated wearily, "and that it is not orcs."

"Indeed," frowned Enebaiel, "well we can only face it as it comes."

"True," I said.

"Get some sleep," she murmured and tenderly kissed my brow. I smiled softly and drifted off in a dreamless sleep.

****

The next morning we gathered as much wood as we could and I conjured a canoe and four leaf shaped paddles to speed us on our way. We tied our backpacks with rope to the front and back of the canoe, balancing us out. I sat in the middle with Nestad in front of me and Enebaiel behind me.

At first Nestad and I paddled, with Enebaiel using her paddle as a makeshift rudder. It would be about two hundred and twenty miles of travelling to do before we reached Lorien, I had no way to determine our speed but judging from how the land was passing us, we were making good distance.

The flow of the river was quite strong at this time during the season, due to the runoff from the snow at the high peaks of the Misty Mountains, adding our paddling, it would easily give us a speed of fifteen to twenty miles per hour, it was a bad estimate that I could only make from the visual cues of the passing shore of the river.

At sunset we headed for the eastern shore, to make camp.

"Why the eastern shore?" asked Enebaiel as I secured the canoe on land, and broke out the provisions.

"Greenwood covers the approach to the eastern shore, and no foul things can come from that direction, unless the Wood Elves vigilance is waned for some reason," I replied, "this menace is approaching from the south."

"How close is it?" asked Nestad.

"It is difficult to distinguish distance, with certainty it is moving closer towards us," I said looking to the south, "no fire we can make this evening, we will need our senses open and free."

The next day just as we passed the Gladden River that fed into the Anduin, the hidden malice finally revealed itself. It was just after midday when a sharp whistling sound came from the western shore as we paddled along the river. I looked horrified as I saw what had to be three companies of Men clad in red clothing and black leather armour wearing turbans to cover their heads. They had emerged out of bushes and started to pepper us with arrow shots. Thankfully, we had reacted to the danger fast enough and fell into the deep canoe and cover. I could hear some arrows sticking themselves into the hull of the canoe.

As I saw it, we had two options, to remain in cover and let the river carry us downstream until we were out of bowshot, second was fight. There was a minor problem though that it was rather foolish just to let your boat drift of its own accord down the Anduin River. I pulled out my wand.

"Scutum Totalis," I murmured. I sat up in the canoe and three arrows that would have lanced into me, bounced harmlessly off my invisible shield. This allowed me to see that the Men were not content just to let us drift down the river. A company of twelve had been sent to follow us and make sure we were dead. These men were very good runners it seemed and they ran ahead of our drifting boat.

No doubt they were setting up to unleash all their arrows onto us at once. I smirked as that would be their last mistake.

"Dartha-dad!" I said to my companions as it looked as if they were tempted to put their heads up to get a better look. (Stay down!)

I heard the sudden twang of bows and I could see the arrows lancing in towards us at an upward angle, to allow the darts to fall into the boat. That luckily meant their speed was low.

"Immobiliarbus!" I shouted slashing my wand across the cloud of incoming arrows. The cloud of death stopped in mid-air. "Animaversio Imperio," I incanted, animating and placing all the arrows under the command of my mind, and with a thought, the arrows turned around in midair and shot death back at their shooters. I could hear the cries and groans of pain that erupted as a result, but I could not see the men as the shrubbery along the western shore of the river was getting dense.

"Im baur athea," I said to my companions as I sheathed my wand and grabbed a paddle, we desperately needed to get back on course as there was a bend in the river ahead. (I need help)

They took their cue and grabbed paddles to help get the canoe back on course. About twenty minutes later the river straightened out again and we were safe and the menace had finally lifted from my mind and sense.

"Man ga estathar?" asked Enebaiel. (What were they?)

"Gweth morbin," I replied shortly. (Men, a company of Easterlings.)

"Why do they attack us?" asked Nestad.

"Good question," I replied to that, "they were defeated in a flawed invasion attempt some forty years ago, the army was brutally slaughtered and scattered by Romendacil, the current King of Gondor. It is troubling to see that they are active again. To answer your question Nestad, they attack us probably for the simple fact that we are not one of them."

The journey continued and soon the Drimrill Dale could be seen passing us on our right. Clouds gathered and rain poured down on us the next day, so thick was the water that fell on us that Enebaiel had to start scooping it out of the bottom of the canoe. It was just as the storm cloud lifted that we saw our first glimpse of the Lorien forest as it started on the western shore.

"How much further Nestad until we can go on foot?" I asked of the Healer.

"We disembark where the Nimrodel and Anduin Rivers flow into each other, then it is a simple matter of walking up the Nimrodel, the sentries will find us first," she said.

"All right," I agreed.

In mid-afternoon we reached the converging point of the two rivers and paddled for the western shore and disembarked. It was then that I first observed the arrows that were still stuck in the hull of the canoe. They were remarkably elegant in design, not like the ugly rough hewn appearance of an orcish arrow. I transfigured the boat back into wood and picked up a perfectly preserved Easterling arrow, there was even poison on the tip.

"Rhach!" I swore in disgust and threw the arrow into the river.

"Tol Thaurdacil," beckoned Enebaiel, holding out her hand. I took it and the three of us walked under the boughs of the Lorien forest. (Come Thaurdacil)

The mallorn trees were very impressive; I had not seen the like in all my brief travels around Rivendell. Their barks were thick and strong and I could easily see how one could live in the treetops. This forest was vital, full of life; we were surrounded in green and brown. The air was damp and fresh from the recent rain and I could picture myself living in this place for a long time.

"The gate to the City of the Galadrihm faces south," said Nestad. I nodded and consulted my map again. That indicated that we should initially head south east and then north. I changed direction accordingly.

Not twenty minutes later I softly spoke to Nestad: "We are being tracked by elves; I take it these are the sentries."

"If you can sense them Istari, then it is them, they are very good at veiling themselves in the forest," she replied.

"Will they leave us alone?" asked Enebaiel.

"As long as we present no danger, and draw no weapon, they will leave us be," said Nestad.

The sun was sinking behind the mountains, and the shadows were growing in the woods. Our path now went into the thickets where the dusk had already gathered. Night came beneath the trees as we walked, and I drew my wand and lighted our way forward with a simple illumination spell.

Suddenly we came out into the open again and found ourselves under a pale evening sky dotted with a few early stars. There was a wide treeless space before us, running in a great circle and bending on either hand. Upon a further side there rose to a great height a green wall encircling a green hill thronged with mallorn trees taller than I had seen in the land. I could not begin to guess the height these trees reached. In their many tiered branches and amid their ever moving leaves countless lights were gleaming, green, gold and silver.

Nestad turned towards me and Enebaiel.

"Welcome to Caras Galadhon," she said. "Here is the city of the Galadhrim where dwell the Lord Celeborn and Galadriel the Lady of Lorien."

Nestad led us some way westward again, with the city growing beside them in size. We at last came to a white bridge, and crossing found the great gates of the City. They were tall and strong and hung with many lamps.

Nestad knocked and spoke softly to the gate in Elvish, but I could not hear it. I figured that the gate must be enchanted like the many doors in Hogwarts. The gates opened soundlessly; strangely I could see no guards. We passed the threshold and the gates shut behind us.

I could see no elves as we passed underneath the lighted trees of the city, but I could hear their voices. Far away up on the hill I could hear the sound of singing falling from on high like soft rain upon leaves.

Nestad led us on many paths and climbed many stairs, until we came to the high places and saw before them amid a wide lawn a fountain shimmering. It was lit by silver lamps that swung from the boughs of trees, and it fell into a basin of silver, from which a white stream spilled.

Upon the south side of the lawn there stood the mightiest of all the trees; its smooth bole gleamed like grey silk, and up it towered, until its first branches, far above, opened their huge limbs under a shadowy clouds of leaves. Beside it a broad white ladder stood, and at its foot three Elves were seated. They sprang up as we approached and I saw that they were clad in grey mail, and from their shoulders hung white cloaks.

"Sullinad lendi," greeted the Elf on guard. (Greetings travellers)

"Peth ned nes anglenna tae edonna i rin, nes lothron na i cirith," said the second Elf. (Word of your coming has reached the Lady, you may take the ladder)

I cancelled my illumination spell and as I climbed with my companions we passed many flets; some on one side, some on the other, and some set about the bole of the tree, so that the ladder passed through them. At a great height above the ground I came to a wide wooden platform, like the deck of a great ship. On it was built a house, so large that almost it would have served for a hall of Men upon the earth.

Nestad entered first and I let Enebaiel next before I went in, and found I was in a chamber of oval shape, in the midst of which grew the trunk of the great mallorn, now tapering towards its crown, and yet making a pillar of wide girth.

The chamber was filled with soft light; its walls were green and silver and its roof of gold. Many elves were seated there. On two chairs beneath the bole of the tree and canopied by a living bough there sat side by side, Celeborn and Galadriel. They stood to greet their guests. They were grave and beautiful and dressed wholly in white and the hair of the Lady were a deep gold, and the hair of Lord Celeborn was of silver long and bright.

"Greetings Healer Nestad, it is good to see you again," said Celeborn. Nestad bowed.

"It's good to be home, long have I dwelt in Rivendell, but I longed to see my kin and return home," said Nestad in turn. Celeborn spied Enebaiel standing next to me.

"Who is the young elf you have brought with you?" asked Celeborn.

"She is my apprentice, her name is Enebaiel," said Nestad. Celeborn nodded.

"Please Enebaiel join your Mistress and sit on my right hand side," instructed Celeborn, I fought down the objection to this, as I stood now alone in front of the Lord and Lady. If I were anybody else, I would have been intimidated, and nervous. But I had been preparing for this conversation.

"You may remove your veil Istari, you are among friends here," stated Galadriel for the first time.

"Oh that may be Lady Galadriel, but that does not mean the time to reveal myself has come," I retorted, "and my name is Thaurdacil among the elves of Rivendell." My eyes flashed as I occluded my thoughts.

"Nevertheless, I would like to see you for who you truly are," she stated. I thought for a moment and agreed albeit reluctantly. I removed my bow and quiver, and placed my backpack on the ground. I drew my wand and with a flick my elfish ranger clothes were replaced by emerald wizards' robes and with a thought my elfish ears disappeared.

"Remarkable," commented Celeborn.

"It is wise of you to remain hidden in your comings and goings Thaurdacil, you are the first herald of the doom of Sauron," said Galadriel, "and you will not be the last."

"Others will come then?" I asked realizing what she was saying.

"No doubt," said Galadriel and closed her eyes, "I can see their coming and I can tell you now that most of them would hardly be enamoured of your presence."

"That's just tough, because I am here to stay until the blight of Sauron is removed from this Middle-Earth, I will do it with or without their help," I growled.

The Lady shone a brilliant smile. She looked at me and then at Enebaiel for a moment and then returned to my eyes.

"Yet, you are far from ready for such trails I see, but you will get there," said Galadriel. "I offer you what wisdom and training I have in the power of the Eldar, which you seem to have been blessed with."

"Thank you Lady Galadriel," I bowed.

"Quarters have been provided for you," said Celeborn, "Haldir will show you the way."

"Sleep well Thaurdacil," said Galadriel, "for tomorrow I will come to you for your training, it is long and exhaustive. You could spend two centuries mastering the skills I teach."

I was dismissed from the Lady's presence but caught Enebaiel's eyes before leaving and gave her a message from my mind. I will find you as soon as I have some free time. Her eyes sparkled and she returned: I shall be looking forward to that.

I shouldered my gear again and returned myself to my Elfish form and clothing. Haldir was a pleasant enough fellow, once he got over the shock of seeing me as an elf again. We left the Hall of the Lady and walked across the rope bridges to an adjoining platform. From there we walked north across another bridge and to what appeared to be my home here.

It was a dwelling that occupied the entire platform that was mounted on this mallorn. It had a very cosy living room; in fact the place screamed 'The Burrow' at me from all corners. Since space was at a premium on top of the trees, everything was utilitarian in function but not so in appearance. The roof was tall above me and furniture was small in number.

"I shall leave you to get acquainted with your new dwelling Thaurdacil," said Haldir.

"Thank you Haldir," I replied and the elf showed himself out, closing the door behind him.

The dwelling was rather how I imagined a muggle flat to be in an apartment high rise, the exception being that there was no kitchen. I gathered I would be eating in the Hall where Galadriel received me. The bedroom was a comfy four poster with a thick mattress and very fine blankets and pillows, much like in Rivendell. The small window looked out upon the city's ethereal glow and it was then that I suddenly found myself hungry.

I scrounged in my backpack for some lemdas bread and greedily devoured two cakes of it. I pulled out my trunk necklace and enlarged it and placed it on the opposite side of the bed. The food had made me extremely weary but I had to tell Albus of our situation. So I got my Pensive out and quickly jumped in and out for that very purpose. I stripped off my clothes and climbed in bed, asleep before my head hit the pillow.

****

The next day I met Galadriel after taking what breakfast I could in the Hall and we climbed down to the forest floor and led me towards the southern slopes of the hill of Caras Galadhon, and passing through a high green hedge we came into an enclosed garden. No trees grew here, and it lay open to the sky. The evening star had risen and was shining with white fire above the western woods. Down a long flight of steps Galadriel went into the deep green hollow, through which ran murmuring the silver stream that issued from the fountain on the hill. At the bottom, upon a low pedestal carved like a branching tree, stood a basin of silver, wide and shallow, and beside it stood a silver ewer.

"Here is the Mirror of Galadriel," she said, "however I have not brought you here to look in it, it would serve no purpose. You are already bound by prophecy and to a fate."

"What does it do?" I asked. The Mirror aroused my interest for there was a fair magic coursing through it that I could sense.

"Many things I can command the Mirror to reveal," she answered, "and to some I can show what they desire to see. But it will also show things unbidden, and those are often stranger and more profitable than things we wish to behold."

"I have laid eyes on a similar Mirror in my realm," I commented, "it shows you your heart's desire."

"And what did you see in it?" asked Galadriel in interest.

"At the time I was but a lad of eleven years, I saw my parents and family, standing next to me with their eyes shining in happiness and pride at me," I said smiling fondly.

"An orphan you are then in your native realm?" asked Galadriel. I only nodded in answer.

"But as my mentor told me, it does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live," I said.

"Very wise," nodded Galadriel, "but you are here to learn the power of Elf-magic that you have come to realise is inside you."

And so I began learning. I quickly realised that the magic of the Elves was more subtle than the overt power of a wizard. For one it was a magic that was done without a wand or similar device that help focus and channel the magic. I also realised that the power of the Eldar that I was channelling was not necessarily inside me, in fact it was all around me, and I merely served as a conduit for it.

Galadriel ended the day's instruction with me barely able to call forth this power. But the little I had touched of it made my eyes wide with awe and wonder. Could this really be the power that I needed to defeat Voldemort? It seemed that way at least. No doubt I would find some answers over the next couple of centuries.

Just as I was about to leave, another she-elf entered the garden. And but for a moment I thought that Arwen was here for some reason. But Arwen did not have this face. It was clear now that this was Celebrian, the wife of Elrond. Long had I heard of her from the twins, but words would never do her justice. It was clear that twins had inherited her face.

She looked at me fondly, and I felt myself flush as I could not meet her gaze.

"So is this the son that Elrond has adopted, mother?" asked Celebrian with a glint in her eye. It hit me to that I should have considered Galadriel as my grandmother. I cursed myself for my forgetfulness.

"Yes, indeed," replied Galadriel laughing softly at my sheepishness.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you Naneth," I bowed and Celebrian came forward and hugged me. (Mother)

"Now I see finally what Elrond sees in you Istar-ion," said Celebrian with a beautiful smile. I turned to Galadriel and bowed again.

"I am sorry for not realising you were my daer-naneth, I regret my forgetfulness, I am not used to being able to claim kin," I said with a heavy heart and a tear leaked out of my eye. Galadriel stood and embraced me as I would have imagined my mom would, if she had lived. (Grand-mother)

"Do not be sorry daer-ion," said Galadriel, "be happy."

"So how did he fare?" asked Celebrian.

"It is but his first day," said Galadriel, "and he has had but a lick from the spring of the Eldar. But he will eventually get there."

I left with my newly discovered family, content and happy for the first time in a long while.