Fan Fiction ❯ Keeper of the Dunedain ❯ Birth of Malrendil ( Chapter 5 )

((Middle earth))

 

Dear,

Journal it has been two months since I first woke up in this strange world called middle earth. Who am I you might ask? Well at one time I was Harry Potter a victim at age one, a murderer at the age eleven, and savior at age sixteen. But here and now I am Malrendil the black a wizard and the keeper of the Dunedain. The name Malrendil I had given to myself without conscious thought. The title of black wizard and keeper of the Dunedain was given to me by Gilraen. Ever since the day her husband Arathorn died I had somehow became her rock of strength.

 

 

And the few men who survived the orc attack that day now looked upon me as some type of leader. I know little of this world outside of the language lessons Elladan and Elhoir give me. They are two mischievous twin elves. And the elves here are not like the ones back at the world I come from. The ones here are tall and beautiful. Both Elladan and Elhoir are princes of an elven kingdom called Imladris or Rivendell in the common speech. That is where we are going. It seems that Aragorn and Gilraen are in some sort of danger. No one will say why but something tells me that I'm about to have a serious case of a recurrence of fate.

 

 

Eliza won't stop asking me about my life before that faithful day I came upon the stream. I always answer vaguely and then change the subject. I dodged a bullet the other day when I went to wash in the river and the twins stumbled upon the place which I was washing in. They saw the scars on my back and questioned me about it. I told them I had gotten into a fight. Well that was partially true, considering I did fight uncle Vernon.

 

 

Yet I will keep the fact that I killed him a secret for my own sanity's sake. But by God it isn't only Eliza and the twins who are curious the whole of the camp wonders who I am, where I came from, and how I somehow became part of these people. Then again I wonder sometimes myself. I let go so easily to the life I had before and adapted well to this life. The only reminder that I have of just plain old earth is my necklace Hedwig.

 

 

But Hedwig is an important part of me in the since I know her loyalty and honesty is absolute and for that I am grateful. Aragorn the boy who I helped saved two months ago has also cemented himself in my heart. In the absence of his birth father I am his surrogate father. Some would think it disrespectful but I understand fully well that Aragorn is too young to understand such politics. And I will happily play the role of father knowing by doing this he will not know the pain I have known for my entire life.

 

 

Harry set down the quill he was writing with and looked around at his tent. Its gray walls were made out of a thick fabric that protected him from the chilly mornings. His bed was that of a wooden cot filled with straw and wrapped in heavy linens. There were no rich fineries in this place. Not even the stool that he sat in or the desk that he used to write in his journal on was of the upper class. Harry smiled, Malrendil the black camped among the lady Gilraen's elite guards who were posted just outside her tent.

 

 

Harry soon learned these infamous men were called rangers and were long lived because of being descendants of people of a kingdom called Numenor. These people were of elven kin that were distant cousins of Elladan and Elrohir because of their uncle Elros. That bit of information was quite a surprise and it surprised Harry even more to find out that both Gilraen and her son belonged to the same bloodline. Suddenly Harry sensed someone enter his tent trying to sneak up on him.

His smile broadened, “ Come out Aragorn I know your there”.

 

 

Harry heard the child huff before coming to stand next to him his arms crossed over his chest and face set in an angry pout.

 

 

“ That no fair `rendil' you have magic,” complained the two year old.

 

 

Harry laughed. The child had trouble pronouncing his name. Harry himself was still trying to get used to speaking common.

 

 

“ We all have our own magic little one I just know how to use mine”.

 

 

“ Yes well perhaps you will teach me your spells for wooing women into your snare”.

 

 

He blushed as he remembered hearing one of the women in the camp found his accent attractive.

 

 

 

“ What can I say it's a Valar given gift” he quipped back in Sindarin recognizing Elladan entering his tent.

 

 

The elder of the twin sons of Elrond laughed.

 

 

“ Why are you still asleep so late an hour” the elf asked in common.

 

 

“ I felt like doing some writing” Harry said showing Elladan his journal.

 

 

The elf snatched it from Harry's hand faster than the eye could see. But when Elladan looked inside he couldn't understand the language it was written in.

 

 

“ What is this?” he asked turning from one page to another.

 

 

Harry smirked, “ Don't even waste your energy my friend it is written how do you say it-”, “ In my native tongue”?

 

 

It was Elladan's turn to huff and cross his arms over his chest. This caused Aragorn who was listening to the entire conversation to burst into a fit of giggles. Both elf and wizard smiled at the child who was too young to understand what he lost. Elladan closed Harry's journal and set it down in front of him.

 

 

“ Well as much as I would like to continue our conversation Malrendil the lady summons you and this little one is in need of a playmate in your absence,” said Elladan with an eloquent flourish.

 

 

Harry chuckled only to feel little arms try to wrap around his waist. He looked down to see the hopeful quicksilver eyes of Aragorn.

 

 

“ Can't I come `rendil' please!” the child begged.

 

 

Harry looked up at Elladan only to see the elf shake his head. Looking down at Aragorn once more Harry sighed.

 

 

“ I'm sorry little one but you cannot, but I will come play with you, Elladan, and Elhoir latter deal”?

 

 

The child looked crestfallen but nodded before taking Elladan's hand and leaving Harry to wash and get dressed.

 

 

As soon as they were gone Harry stood and walked over to the other side of his tent. There was a basin filled with water, a washcloth, and soup waiting for him. Harry stripped off his nightclothes and dipped the washcloth in the cold water. He lathered the soap and began to wash. As Harry washed his own back he looked at the small mirror that hung on the wooden post behind the stand that held the basin, careful to avoid touching the scars on his back. For some reason even after all this time the injuries on Harry's back still stung. The vicious slash marks he was sure would never go away but he thought over time the pain in his back would lessen.

 

 

` Guess it was too much to ask for' he thought wryly.

 

 

After Harry finished washing he wrung out his hair and wove it into one long braid. Then he went over to the foot of his bed. There was a trunk that was given to him by Gilraen filled with clothes that the few maidens in camp made for him. Once Harry chose an outfit and got dressed he strode off to Gilraen's tent. As he went he got nods of respect and even some bows from the men who guarded Gilraen. As Harry entered the tent he noticed Eliza wasn't there to greet him as she usually did.

 

 

“ Gilraen?” he called out not knowing what to expect.

 

 

“ Come in”, Harry entered the main part of the tent.

 

 

He had to stop himself from gaping at what Gilraen wore. It was a bottle green dress with a white gauzy under skirt. The golden weaving on the bodice and hips united and flowed down all the way to the frilled part of the underskirt. Gilraen's dark brown hair was curled and braided with golden, pale pink, and bright green ribbons. She smiled at Harry as she moved forward to study his choice in clothing.

 

 

Gilraen stood directly in front of Malrendil, so close in fact that she had to crane her elegant neck upward to look at his face. The black wizard did not wear his color today. Instead he wore a long sleeved light gray shirt with golden embroidery at the collar and end of the sleeves and an even darker shade of gray pants. His velvet blue vest was so long that it reached his ankles shadowing the only black things he wore, his boots. His hair was in one long braid that lay carelessly on his left shoulder. Then Gilraen noticed that he wore a woman's necklace. She wondered where he got it. `Ah well, just another thing I'll find out today'. As she stepped back Gilraen easily read the suspicion on the wizard's face. `Don't worry Malrendil I won't bite' she thought with a smirk.

 

 

“ You called for me Gilraen,” He asked.

 

 

The widow of Arathorn nodded, “ I have”.

 

 

Gilraen let the silence stretch on as she watched the young man before her. He was trying to stay calm and not let his distrust cause him to loose control. But the noble woman could see the struggle in his normally bright eyes. They had now darkened in his trepidation and confusion.

 

 

“ Will you accompany me to the lake lord Malrendil” she asked suddenly. Mechanically Malrendil nodded in approval unable to get over his shock Gilraen suspected.

 

 

She cheerfully retrieved her blue cloak from her bed and put it on, “ Wonderful then lets go”.

 

 

 

Gilraen took hold of Harry's hand and nearly dragged him out the tent. As they walked through camp everyone stared at them. Here was lady Gilraen the fair upon the arm of a strange loner of a wizard named Malrendil. Some were appalled by the display, others jealous, and the rest were gladdened to see Malrendil and Gilraen happy.

 

 

 

Harry kept his eyes trained forward trying to ignore the bad feeling that he had about this little outing. Gilraen however soaked in the victory of this moment; she would finally truly know this man whose mysterious past has intrigued even the most aloof of people. The pair walked in complete comparatively tense silence, Harry had a feeling that his friend was planning something. And if he had learned anything during his lifetime there was nothing more fear provoking than a woman with a plan. Once they reached the end of the camp Gilraen issued a rather abrupt request.

 

 

“ Sing for me Malrendil” Harry looked into her eyes, “ What would you have me sing”.

 

 

Gilraen shook her head “ Sing one of the songs from your homeland”.

 

 

She saw the slight change in his expression. His lips tightened and his eyebrows nearly came together.

 

 

“ Never really had a home before Gilraen that song I sang to you was something I heard” he said truthfully.

 

 

Gilraen smile brightened anyway, she wouldn't let him withdraw into himself that easily.

 

 

“ Then sing me a song that you have heard I want to hear you sing again”.

 

 

Seeing there was no way out of this Harry began to sing.

 

I am so high

I can hear haven

I am so high

I can hear haven

O, but haven

No haven don't hear me

 

 

And they say

A hero can save us

I'm not gonna stand here and wait

I'll hold on to the wings of an eagle

Watch as we all fly away

 

 

Someone told me

Love cannot save us

But how can that be

Look what love gave us

If weren't for all the killing

And blood spilling

 

 

And war never came

And they say

A hero can save us

I'm not gonna stand here and wait

I'll hold on to the wings of an eagle

Watch as we all fly away

 

 

Now that the war has ended

Its love that I'm sending to you

It's in the love of a hero

And that's why I fear it won't do

 

 

And they say

A hero can save us

I'm not gonna stand here and wait

I'll hold on to the wings of an eagle

Watch as we all fly away

And they're watching us

Watching

Watching us

Watching us fly away - Nickel back featuring Josey of Saliva

 

 

When Harry finished the song he noticed they had arrived at the lake. The green field over shadowed the clear water of the lake.

 

 

“Beautiful” he murmured looking at their surroundings.

 

 

Gilraen had already let go of his hand and found a spot to sit at.

 

 

“ Come lord Malrendil bask with me in the sun” she implored.

 

 

Again Harry had a bad feeling about this whole thing. But against his better judgment he joined Gilraen where she sat. “

 

 

That was a beautiful song what is called,” she inquired.

 

 

Harry lay on his back staring up into the afternoon sky.

 

 

“ Ironically it is called hero” he replied.

 

“ Why is it ironic”, “ because the song was about a hero”, “Oh”.

 

 

Again Gilraen let the silence stretch like a taunt bow. Fed up with waiting to see what the noble woman would ask next Harry took the initiative.

 

 

“ Why have you really brought me here Gilraen and non of that I no idea what your talking about because I may be no expert but you understand my common damn well”.

 

 

Gilraen saw something in Malrendil's eyes that she had never seen before. ` So this is the part of himself he hides' she thought. This was the warrior that she glimpsed when they had first met. But this, this was him to his fullest and all his roughened edges that were his complete personality.

 

 

“ I brought you here to ask one simple question” Gilraen scooted to sit closer to Harry.

 

 

“Why?” “ And none of that I have no idea what you're talking about because I am an expert and I know damn well you understand me when I use the common tongue” she mimicked his earlier tone of voice.

 

 

It was at that moment Harry regretted ever opening his mouth.

 

 

 

What could he say to salvage this situation? As he looked into Gilraen's deep silven eyes he knew his answer, nothing. Today Gilraen the fair would receive her answers and Malrendil would reveal the monster that he hid for so long or at least only part of it if his luck didn't run out. Gilraen could see the mixture of emotions brewing beneath still waters. Though when she first met him Gilraen thought him to be young but Malrendil's eyes and his actions told a different story. His efficiency in some area's in customs of the race of men and lack they're of in others was finally going to be explained. She could see the anger and resignation in his face.

 

 

` You have no idea what pleasures await you if you'd just let go Malrendil' she thought sadly.