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The Archmage of Arda by Archmage.Potter
 Harry Potter & Lord of the Rings Xover Rated: T, English, Fantasy, Harry P., Words: 75k+, Favs: 3k+, Follows: 2k+, Published: Oct 12, 2019 Updated: Oct 29, 2019  685Chapter 3
Chapter 3
Harry walked out of his tent. The noise from the crowd was deafening, but he managed to tune it out. He had made it for Prince Eldacar's 100th name-day. The magnificent city of Annuminas was in celebration and a grand tourney had been arranged. Warriors from all over the land, including several dwarves and elves, came to test themselves against the finest champions of Arnor. There was jousting, archery, melee fighting and all kinds of other events.
After spending several years studying the magical herbs and creatures in the Woodland Realm and concocting various potions under the Hat's tutelage, Harry had finally returned to Rivendell, where he had joined Glorfindel in several skirmishes against orcs in the Misty Mountains. All of that had taken several years and by the time the two of them had pushed the orcs back to the north, Harry decided the time had come for him to return to the realm of men. With the blessings of Lord Elrond, Harry had decided to spend an extended period in Arnor to better understand the human culture in middle earth. But he wanted to do so without being known as a sorcerer who could do impossible things and always be on the beck and call of people; and what better way to forge an identity for himself than by winning the melee competition in the Prince's Tourney.
There were twelve contestants in total, winners of individual melees held a week ago to present the best warriors before the prince. There were eight other men in the tourney and three dwarves, other than Harry. The dwarves were not of Khazad-Dum and looked less refined and more aggressive than their kin who Harry had become quite close to over the years. But that was a good thing – for they wouldn't recognise him either. Seven of the men wore armour showing they were in Arnor's military while the eighth one wore plain armour and the visor on his headgear covered all of his face except his eyes.
"Begin," the warden shouted and dropped the flag when the king made a sign.
Harry only took the Sword of Gryffindor. The jewels on its hilt glinted in the sunlight and he could see many looks of envy from some of the contestants. He only picked it because now with the power of the basilisk within him, he could control the effect of the venom. Otherwise, he would never have considered taking that weapon in a show-fight.
The military men seemed to have grouped together to fight off the others as a team, whereas the dwarves also were going to fight as one unit to begin with. Realising he had to do something to even the odds or else risk exposing his magical abilities, Harry charged at the soldiers.
He struck fast, putting forward just enough strength to push his first adversary back, and with a swift motion, Harry whacked the poor man's sword arm with the flat edge of his sword. Once the sword dropped, Harry pointed his blade at the man's cheek and pricked it lightly to draw blood.
"The Lieutenant Commander of Amon Sul is out!"
In retrospect, Harry had miscalculated. By defeating an opponent in mere seconds, he painted a big target on himself and the dwarves suddenly realised he was a bigger threat than the other humans. Sensing an attack coming from behind him, Harry swayed to a side, while pushing his sword down just at the right moment to trip the dwarf that had charged at him.
"Yield," Harry commanded, standing by the dwarf's face, which was splattered on the ground. The dwarf growled and struggled to get up but Harry kicked his axe aside and pricked his arm.
"Rhogar of Clan Longbeard is out!"
He didn't have much time take stock of what was happening as four adversaries fell upon him – two men and two dwarves. Harry parried blow after blow with great skill, although truly, he was not even exerting himself or using his full speed or strength. From the cheers, he could tell the crowd was loving the spectacle and the skill he was showing, and there was an exclamation of outrage when two others also abandoned their personal battles to gang up on Harry.
"Looks like you need a hand," the man in the plain armour called out when Harry parried a couple of blows and positioned himself to get out of reach of his adversaries for a few moments. That warrior had been the only one who had fought other opponents instead of ganging up against Harry and had just defeated an adversary. He rushed into the middle and engaged a dwarf who was about to charge at Harry.
"As you please," Harry called out. "But don't expect me to go easy on you for this."
The man was out-manoeuvring the dwarf by sheer technique despite the dwarf's greater strength. "Wouldn't expect anything else," he returned. In a swift blow, he pierced the dwarf's armour and a trickle of crimson liquid oozed out. "Ah, sorry about that. You should get that looked at straightaway."
"Bolgar of Clan Longbeard is out!"
In between keeping six adversaries occupied, Harry was quite impressed by the skill of the warrior in the plain armour. He was nowhere close to Harry or the elves of Rivendell, but they had decades and decades to practice whereas this man had the mannerisms and fire of youth, assuming he wasn't of Numenorean heritage and had a longer lifespan. Nearly 57 years had passed since Harry had first come to middle earth, and so by his reckoning, he was almost 70 years old despite still having the appearance of a man in his mid-20s. He had lived a full life of an average human and so, even without his superhuman strength and speed, he would still be able to hold his own against superior numbers just by sheer skill and experience alone. But to see someone much younger fight with such valour and skill was quite fascinating.
As the melee carried on, Harry dispatched the remaining men until it was just him and the young man who had fought so valiantly.
"What is your name?" asked Harry with interest. "You fight well."
"Raegin of Annuminas," he announced.
"Your armour is too heavy for your technique," Harry noted. "You use speed and swift movement to gain advantage but your armour holds you back and slows you down. You should wear something much lighter than what you have."
"I have my reasons," he said icily. "Fight me."
Harry moved swiftly, using a bit of his superhuman speed and attacked the young man, and to his surprise, Raegin managed to parry it just in time. He attacked twice again and each time the youth held his own. "Ha!" Harry laughed in delight. "You are indeed very good. With some training, I can make you the finest swordsman in Arnor."
Raegin raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think I'm not already the finest?" he asked cheekily as he struck out with his sword.
Harry moved to a side and smacked the blade of his opponent down with his free hand, knowing it wouldn't pierce his skin, while hitting hard at his opponent's fist with the flat edge of his sword. The young man let out a shocked cry and dropped his sword, which Harry kicked aside swiftly and raised his sword at the man's chest with a grin.
"Never mind," sighed Raegin. "I can recognise superior skill when I see it." He nodded at the warden to indicate he yielded.
"Raegin from Annuminas is out… and Harald Gryffindor has won the melee!"
Harry ignored the cheers from the crowd and walked towards the dais where the king, the prince and their honoured guests were sitting. Prince Eldacar stood up and said, "You fight well, my old friend."
"You know this man?" the king asked curiously.
"I have encountered Harald during one of my undercover visits to Bree," said Eldacar. He looked at Harry. "I extend my old offer to you yet again, Harald Gryffindor. Stay here for a while; I would have your counsel and your sword by my side."
Harry nodded. "I am at your command, your highness." After a pause, he added, "If I may start providing counsel to you from now itself…" The prince motioned for him to continue. "The man I fought at the end – Raegin – is an extremely courageous and skilled fighter with a noble heart. Talent such as that should not be ignored; I would recommend you to recruit him to your personal guard or in some other capacity you deem appropriate."
The prince exchanged a glance with his father. "Come with me," he said and led Harry through the back of the dais into the area where the contestants had their individual tents. He looked around for a few moments and then walked into one tent.
Harry followed the prince and he gasped in shock. They had entered the tent of Raegin of North Downs but that wasn't what shocked him. The young warrior he had just fought was in the tent and had removed the armour and was wearing a simple plain shirt and brown trousers, and for the first time, Harry saw Raegin's face and the long flowing golden hair that framed it. The warrior was a young maiden of great beauty, who looked from the prince to Harry with a bewildered look.
"May I present my daughter, Princess Elya? You know her as Raegin the warrior," the prince sounded very amused at the whole thing. "She takes after her father and has a penchant towards disguising herself and taking assumed identities from time to time." He walked to the girl and embraced her. "You fought well, dear heart. Take no grief or shame in your defeat at the hands of Harald Gryffindor, for he is the one I have seen in the palantir who will save our people from our foes."
"Lord Harald," she curtsied with as much elegance as she showed in the battlefield.
Harry took a deep breath while the princess blushed at his continued scrutiny. She was beautiful and had a very petite body, which was perhaps why she wore the thick armour to hide the fact she was a girl.
"I am no lord," he said. "But you, my lady, are as beautiful as you are skilled with the sword."
She looked at him furtively and lowered her eyes again and her cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red.
"My offer is still open," said Harry, enjoying the effect he had on her. "If you wish to improve even further, come to me at dawn with a practice sword and the lightest armour you can find."
Harry stared at the proceedings with interest. Prince Eldacar was speaking most eloquently but the king's advisors were not easily convinced. They simply didn't see the need to establish a new fortress town east of Annuminas. Personally, Harry was finding himself in agreement with the advisors who cited the vast amount of resources that would be needed for such an undertaking; resources that could easily be used by the people of Annuminas for a better standard of life. But he also knew the prince had seen visions of the future and whatever he was proposing must have some sound reason behind it.
And he wasn't mistaken. After the council meeting was over, he explained his true reasons privately to Harry and Elya.
"Between the North Downs and the Misty Mountains, a fell realm will rise that will destroy Arnor and this fortress town I seek to create, Fornost Erain, will the last refuge for our people," he said.
Elya raised a logical query. "Why do you not tell them all this, father? Surely, they will accept your proposal if they know the threats we face in the future."
"I have in the past, my dear, and they simply don't care," said Eldacar. "It is a future threat; more than a thousand year after they and their children have passed away. Why would they care?"
"Why do you care?" Harry asked curiously.
Eldacar turned to Harry with a thoughtful look. "I suppose I care because I believe the vision was given to me for a purpose. I feel like I am responsible to do what I can to ensure the continued survival of the Dunedain… even if it isn't much. I saw a shining fortress that doesn't even exist currently holding out bravely against the enemy… how can I not do everything in my power to ensure this fortress actually comes into existence?"
Harry stood up. "What resources do you need, your highness?"
"The usual," said Eldacar. "Timber, stone, iron, food, gold and workers."
"Provide me with a ledger of how much you require of each and you will have what you need," said Harry.
Eldacar turned to Harry with a relieved expression. He grabbed a piece of paper and started jotting things down with a quill. "Are you sure you can do this?" he asked.
Harry looked at the numbers. "I will need a few weeks." He walked to the map and studied it again. "Meet me at the proposed site of Fornost in a month's time and we can start building your fortress at once."
"How can you promise that?" Elya asked curiously. "Surely, if you had such vast resources at your disposal, you would be the richest man in the kingdom."
"I have my tricks," said Harry. He glanced at the prince, who nodded. "If you are truly interested, feel free to accompany me, your highness. We can continue your training while travelling."
Elya's curiosity made her accept the proposal, but after she left, the prince took Harry to a side.
"I have seen the way you look at her and the way she looks at you. Nothing would give me more pleasure than to see you and her together," said Eldacar. "But I will not see her heart broken. If you wish to be with her, then you must give me your word you will spend at least 50 years in Arnor. That is all I ask; a mere passing moment for someone like you but a lifetime for sweet Elya, who unfortunately will not share the long lifespan of the menfolk of my line."
Harry glanced at the golden-haired woman and sighed. "She is a rare beauty with a sharp intellect and I cannot deny I find her very attractive. However, you know my curse, my prince. How can I be with someone who I know will someday pass away while I will linger on afterwards?"
The prince looked at him with narrowed eyes. "Then, what is your suggestion? To live alone forever until you become a bitter man with no warmth in your heart? That makes no sense. Sure, you will have to go through the pain of seeing your loved ones grow old and wither while you linger on but that is infinitely the better option than banishing love and warmth from your heart completely. My first wife – oh, I loved her so much; she passed away long ago. My sweet child Elya will pass away before I even become old. It took me many years of grief and loneliness after my first wife to realise that moving on to another was not an insult to the memory of the one you previously loved. It is just part of life for those with longer lifespans. So long as you remain true and faithful while you are together, you should not be scared of the fact that many, and not just a single person, will share your life's journey and each will do so only for a small part of that journey."
Harry was silent as he considered the prince's wisdom. He repeated, "I cannot deny I find her very attractive."
"Then, you have my blessings to court my daughter."
Harry felt Elya stiffen next to him and took her hand and held it comfortingly before she could reach for her sword. Dozens of dwarves were looking at them menacingly; some even had axes and maces raised, but Harry kept walking fearlessly towards the one who looked like some kind of authority figure. Othrikar was a mining settlement of dwarves in the hilly terrain of the North Downs, inhabited by a clan called Longbeards. After thinking long about the prince's proposal, Harry had decided approaching the dwarves with the aim of recruiting them to build the new fortress city.
Harry greeted the dwarves in Khuzdul, the language of the dwarves he had learnt during his time in Khazad-Dum. "Greetings, Masters of Stones," he said.
"You speak our language, human," the dwarven leader replied in the Common Tongue, "but that doesn't make you one of us. You are not wanted here. Go away."
"I have a proposal that will be of mutual benefit to both of us," Harry said. "If you reject this proposal, then we will leave without any further imposition on your people."
The dwarf made a motion for him to continue.
"I wish to employ Clan Longbeard in building a great fortress south of the North Downs," said Harry. "In return, you will be adequately compensated."
"Compensated?" the dwarf spat on the ground. "What can a human give me as compensation?"
Harry reached into the sack he was carrying and pulled out a chunk of shining bluish-silver ore roughly the size of his fist. Some dwarves gasped at the sight of the ore, while the leader took a deep breath. Harry handed the ore to the leader, who inspected it thoroughly. After a couple of minutes, he tossed it back towards Harry.
"My people have long desired to work with mithril like our cousins in the east," said he. "But such a paltry amount is hardly sufficient for what you ask."
Harry tossed the ore back to the dwarf. "I apologise for the misunderstanding. That was a gift; a gesture of goodwill from Harald Gryffindor, also known as Gabilion to the dwarves of Khazad-Dum. Should you agree to assist us, I will provide you with an equal amount of mithril per dwarf per month who assists us in this project." To him, that was an easy thing to provide, since all he needed to do was use his magic to make an ordinary mithril grow bigger in size.
That started a lot of whispering among the dwarves. Some were clearly very tempted by his offer while others looked uncertain. The leader looked at the mithril he was holding with fascination before turning to Harry again. "We will consider your proposal and get back to you at dawn in your camp."
Harry nodded and was about to turn around, but Princess Elya had something to add. She took a step towards the dwarven leader and knelt on the ground.
"I am Elya, granddaughter of King Valandil of Arnor," she said. "With all humility, I beseech you on behalf of my father Prince Eldacar for your help, Clan Leader. The new fortress city will be open to dwarves as well and we hope to build a place where humans and dwarves may live and trade with each other in peace. The purpose of the fortress is to be a shield protecting the rest of the realm from the orcs and other evil creatures that inhabit the Misty Mountains."
The dwarf nodded distractedly. He was more interested in the mithril than anything else the princess had said. "Fine, fine. We will take that into consideration as well."
Later, as they left the dwarf settlement and walked out to the open countryside to find a suitable shelter to make their camp, Elya was outraged. "I don't believe it," she said to him in disbelief. "It's as if they care more about mithril than about keeping themselves safe from enemies. How can an entire race of people be so blinded by greed?"
"It's not really greed," said Harry, taking Elya's hand to calm her again. He waved his free hand and several twigs and fallen pieces of wood gathered together and then with a snap of his fingers they caught fire. He sat down with Elya next to him. "Dwarves are not like humans; they care for their crafts and the things they make with their own hands just as we care about our loved ones and their safety. That is why we would go to great lengths to protect our friends and family while they would not give such things the same priority. But give them mithril or something similar for their finest craftsmen to make new and wondrous things, and they would be in your debt for a very long time. That's just how they are."
"How do you know so much about everything?" Elya asked.
Harry's eyes dimmed slightly. The answer to her question was he knew so much because despite his appearance he had lived many long years already due to his immortality. While he remained silent and pensive, the blonde-haired princess leaned against him, resting her head against his shoulder. Harry wrapped an arm around her and played with her hair and they enjoyed each other's company in silence while Harry made the flames dance in various shapes to entertain the girl, like he had seen Cirdan do using the power of the ring of fire. At some point, he started singing an elvish song while his magic made the fire depict scenes from his song. Elya remained transfixed snugly against Harry.
The next morning an emissary arrived from the dwarven clan. He relayed his message that the clan leader wished to speak to Harry again.
"That's a positive sign," said Harry, when he and Elya followed the emissary back to the settlement.
"Eighty dwarves for eight months," said the clan leader directly without wasting any time. "They will aid you in designing the plans for the fortification of this new town, build the outer walls and the citadel in the centre. The rest will be your own doing. Half the mithril will be paid in advance and the rest after completion. Take it or leave it."
Harry nodded. "I accept your terms," he said and stepped forward to clasp the clan leader's arms as a symbol of their mutual agreement.
Once he had the workers sorted, obtaining the other resources was not as much of a problem. In front of him lay a log of wood, a slab of stone, a slab of iron, a bag of grains and a bar of gold. "My magic can be used to conjure things out of thin air," Harry explained to Elya. "But conjured items do not last permanently. If I pour enough magic, they may last years, perhaps decades, but eventually they will return to the magic from whence they came. But there is a simple way around that problem. If you have even a tiny amount of an item, you can grow it or multiply it repeatedly until you have a large stockpile… and that will remain permanently."
"I see," said Elya, but her eyes widened in amazement when Harry used his magic to increase the single log of wood to two, and then those two were multiplied to four, then eight, then sixteen, and so on, until there were literally tens of thousands. He did the same for the stone, the iron, the bag of grains and the bar of gold. "This is incredible," she said, picking up one of the gold bars and tapping it. "You could become the richest man in Arnor."
"I could," said Harry. "But what would that be worth to me?" He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her closer to him. Leaning forward, he kissed her lips. "I already have Arnor's greatest treasure with me."
And so, when Prince Eldacar arrived with an armed escort and about a hundred human workers he had managed to recruit into his service, he found Harald Gryffindor and his daughter intertwined in each other's arms, with their lips joined and completely oblivious to the newcomers.
"Looks like we arrived a bit sooner than we were expected," he said out loud and the two lovers suddenly jumped apart. The prince climbed down from his horse, handing the reigns to one of his escorts.
"Your highness," said Harry with a grin, while Elya was blushing fiercely. "I have the resources you had asked for. At dawn, eighty dwarves will join us and lend us their skills in building your new town."
"Nay," said the prince. "Not my town. Fornost Erain shall be the seat of my daughter Princess Elya and whosoever she chooses as her consort."
"Father!" Elya was surprised at the proclamation.
"It is a cheap replacement for the sceptre of Annuminas," said Eldacar.
"Under law, I cannot inherit the throne of Arnor," said Elya. "I know that, father, and I do not begrudge my baby brother Arantar. Such has been the ways of our people since Elros, the first king of Numenor."
"I know, dear heart," said Eldacar. "But Fornost is not just a gift or a reward for you. It is a sacred responsibility, and I believe you are the best person to rule over it."
The construction of Fornost Erain lasted nearly two years. The dwarves worked very swiftly and with such skill that the human workers were often left staring in wonder. On top of that, Harry sped things along with his magic, choosing to focus on those tasks that were particularly time consuming without magic.
Moreover, with the help of the Hat, Harry played an active part in the design of Fornost. In the end, they had overlapping star-shaped fortifications, which would make it very difficult to scale the walls during a seige. Inside, in the very middle was the massive white-stoned citadel with the inner keep, which was the tallest tower in the city where Eldacar intended to place one of the palantirs of Arnor. The citadel was big enough to have a royal palace, houses for the nobility and a garrison for the household guard. There were many towers, some for defensive purposes and other for residential use. The middle city was where the physicians had their clinics, the market, schools, guild halls and other similar buildings would be located in one circular layer and then the houses of the common folk. Beyond the star-shaped outer walls, there would be farms, timber yards, wineries, mines, warehouses and similar things which required more space. Of course, to begin with, they were only constructing the outer wall and the citadel with the inner keep, which took two years to complete.
Fornost was only one square mile in size, and could house a maximum of 200,000 people. According to the Hat, that was tiny compared to modern cities back in earth, but quite sizeable compared to the medieval cities from the time of Godric and Salazar and very well designed in comparison. In any case, the population of Arnor wasn't large enough to require anything bigger and they would be lucky to get it to even just a quarter of its full capacity, so Harry was fine with it.
Harry didn't just rely on the stone walls but also transfigured various griffin shaped statues on the walls that were enchanted to rise to the city's defence when attacked. The main gate as well as each of the other gates were guarded by giant stone statues of armoured knights, also enchanted to rise to the city's defence, when required. The inner keep was warded by magic using the most powerful wards he had learnt from Galadriel and the Hat. By the time the citadel was finished, even some of the dwarves were breath-taken by the shining new city and decided to move into the city and take trade as blacksmiths or goldsmiths.
"Please follow me," said Eldacar one day ominously, as he walked into the tent where Harry and Elya had been staying while overseeing the construction. "King Valandil has ratified my decision to appoint Princess Elya as ruler of Fornost under the High King of Arnor. However, that has sparked a lot of controversy in the royal court."
"Which of my cousins would seek to replace me?" asked Elya, with a bored look. "I am happy to duel them or match them in a contest of wits to prove I am indeed worthy of this responsibility."
Eldacar looked at her fondly. "I have no doubt you would destroy them all," he said. "But they do not seek to replace you as such; Ciryatar and Arantur, grandsons of Isildur and nephews to the king, have each vied for your hand in marriage, as has Beleg, my half-brother's son, grandson to the king."
"How can they do that?" Elya was distraught. "Ciryatar and Arantur are like uncles to me and I have always seen Beleg as a brother. I cannot marry any of them." She turned to Harry with a troubled look. "Besides, my heart is already with another."
"Do you think I do not want you to be happy?" Eldacar snapped, which was very uncharacteristic of the cheerful and kind man. "Nothing would give me greater joy than to see you two together." He sighed. "But I am not yet king, my sweet child, and King Valandil's word is final."
"Then, I renounce my position as ruler of Fornost," she declared. "I know these vipers only care for personal power and the intrigues of court. Once I have nothing, they will lose interest in me." She looked at her father's glinting eyes. "Unless… you have already thought of something else."
"King Valandil's word might be law," said Eldacar, "but even he would not set a precedent whereby the king takes away all right of a father to select his daughter's suitor. I have called for a challenge, a contest with a pre-determined criteria, and the one who is judged victorious will be the one to claim your hand in marriage. The contest will be held before the royal court so there is no doubt as to who is victorious."
"Excellent," said Elya. "Harry can defeat them in a duel blindfolded and with one arm tied behind his back."
"Alas, these vipers, as you call them, have also seen Harry's prowess in battle and convinced the king to veto any criteria which would allow a commoner with more training to win before one with noble blood," said Eldacar. "The descendants of Elros are known to be the finest breeders of great horses, far surpassing the skills of ordinary men. He who presents to King Valandil the horse which the king selects as royal steed will be victorious. Until such time, you are to return to the royal court."
Elya bristled. "So, my grandfather would trade me for a horse."
"Elya," Harry walked to her calmly and took her in his arms. "Do not judge the man without knowing his true mind. Remember, to him, I am but a nameless warrior without noble blood who won a melee and is assisting Prince Eldacar on a project which didn't receive the king's full blessings. Perhaps, his desire is solely to ensure his granddaughter marries someone proper."
When the princess calmed down, Eldacar shook his head. "One need only see the two of you together to realise how good a pair you are… In any case, I will have my stable boys bring the best horses from my stables to Fornost. You have six months to present before the king."
"That won't be necessary," said Harry.
"But all the others already have stables with horses of various ages," said Eldacar. "They chose this criteria specifically since you wouldn't be able to breed a horse in that timescale."
Harry shook his head. "If I must win my lady's hand by proving myself to the king and court of Annuminas that I can breed horses worthy of being the royal steed, then I shall do so with my own skills."
Elya smiled peacefully. "I have faith in you, my love."
The six months went by much slower for both Harry and Elya than the previous two years due to the fact they were parted from each other. Harry spent his time travelling in the North Downs in his griffin form, searching for the right horse to breed, while Elya was stuck in a mire of court intrigues. Wherever she went, people would have an opinion about who she should choose as her consort.
"I cannot believe you, Beleg," she had once yelled at the man she had grown up with who now claimed her hand in marriage. "How can you do this to me?"
"But, sweet Elya, I do this for you," Beleg had been shocked by her vehemence. "If not me, it would be one of our lecherous uncles who you have to marry."
"Is that your only reason?" she snapped back. "Or is it because you would like to see yourself sitting on the throne of Fornost."
Beleg had the grace to look somewhat embarrassed. "I cannot think of anyone better to rule than you, sweet Elya. But tell me the truth: do you not think I would make a better ruler by your side than some commoner with no name and no noble blood?"
"Harry is hundred times the man you are!" she declared. "He will win this stupid contest and we will be together soon."
"You are living in a fantasy world like your father and need to grow up," said Beleg sternly. "Do you really think the king will pick this commoner's horse even should it somehow miraculously be better than any of ours? The king's chief advisor whispers poison in his ears, and I only wish to protect you from an even worse future than you would have with me."
Elya's face turned pale. She had faith in Harry to bring the best steed but the thought that the king might deliberately choose an inferior one had not crossed her mind.
Beleg carried on. "Do you really think the court will accept a commoner as the second most powerful man in Arnor after the High King?" He shook his head. "No, sweet Elya, you must see reality for what it is. I speak to you as friend and ally. There are those in the court who already move against your father, for they say he is unfit to succeed King Valandil. Together, you and I, we could forge a powerbase for Uncle Eldacar when it comes to a question of succession."
"The other grandsons of Isildur," Elya said in disgust. "They have never truly accepted grandfather's authority since he was the youngest of Isildur's sons. Are you certain about the treasonous thoughts in their heart?"
"Absolutely," said Beleg.
"Then, I thank you for thinking about my father and my future," said Elya. "But I assure you, I will leave with Harry after this stupid contest and my future is safe while he stands by my side."
The day of the display finally arrived. A full court was gathered. King Valandil, youngest son of Isildur, sat on his magnificent throne in the royal palace of Annuminas. His son Eldacar sat closest to him with Princess Elya as did the various grandsons of Isildur, the king's nephews. Various other advisors, military generals and influential people also had presence in the court. And in the far end, the commonfolk were also gathered to see how the events would unfold. Few had doubts that one of Isildur's grandsons would win, although a few poets had written romantic songs and plays about the unrequited love of a valiant knight and the royal princess, most of which ended in tragedy. But the valiant knight in question was nowhere to be seen that morning.
"We cannot wait any longer," one of the advisors said to the king. "The contest must begin and anyone who doesn't appear before it ends will be disqualified and his claim to the princess' hand will be deemed renounced."
"Have faith, dear heart," said Eldacar, when Elya looked troubled at the proclamation.
The princess looked beautiful; her long golden hair was in a ponytail and she wore a simple blue dress with a mithril necklace Harry had made for her. She epitomised simple elegance and none of the men who looked at her could tear their eyes from her easily.
"Lord Ciryatar, are you ready?" asked the advisor when the king motioned for him to continue.
Ciryatar was the son of Isildur's third son, but he was also the oldest of Isildur's grandsons, a few years older than Eldacar. There was no doubt as he walked to the middle of the hall and clapped his hands for his stable boy to bring the steed that he already saw himself as the king. His robes were more lavish than the king's himself and he wore more items of jewellery than anyone else in the court. Unlike Eldacar, Ciryatar had allowed himself to gain weight over the years, and while he struck an imposing figure, all the young women wished as one that the fair princess not be subjected to life as his bride.
A massive dark-brown coloured horse was brought in with a vast mane and tail of white hair, in perfect contrast to the shiny coat of the horse. The horse moved with much elegance and intelligence, almost as if it knew why it was in the court and wished to make the best impression on behalf of its master.
"Very impressive, nephew," said the king. "Has the horse taken part in any races?"
"Two, your majesty," said Ciryatar. "It won one. The second, alas, was won by the steed that my cousin Arantur will present to you shortly."
"Then, let us not tarry," said the king, motioning for Arantur to move along.
In contrast to his cousin, Arantur was the son of Isildur's second son but he was also the youngest of the surviving grandsons of Isildur. One could tell he was close to his older cousin and acted in a manner very deferential to Ciryatar. Spineless, some considered him, but a very cunning and shrewd man, the brains behind Ciryatar's brawns.
His horse was presented, and again, the crowd was taken by the majesty and beauty of the horse. The horse was pure white in colour with golden hair that shone in the light. It was sleek and had a well-toned body and it moved fleetly.
Arantur raised a hand and the horse immediately lowered its upper body as if to bow before the king.
"Excellent," said the king. "An obedient horse is a worthy steed for anyone. Which of the two presented so far is swifter, in your opinion, nephew?"
Arantur hesitated. "They have both been tested twice. Once, my horse Turya won the race, and the second time, it was my most esteemed cousin Ciryatar's horse. Therefore, I am unable to say which of these two is swifter, but I can indeed say without any shadow of a doubt, that these two are the swiftest and most majestic horses in the realm." He then turned to the princess and bowed, with a lewd look on his face.
"I feel like running him down with my sword," said Elya.
"You will have to wait in line, for I might do that first," Eldacar muttered back. "Where is Harald?"
This time, it was Elya who was more patient. "He will be here," she said. "He has to."
The third contestant was Beleg, Valandil's grandson, and a much younger man than the other two. He went out to bring the horse he was presenting on his own. The horse he brought stunned everyone and even Elya felt her breath caught in her throat; first, at the sight of the beautiful beast, and then, at the sinking feeling that Harry might not be able to surpass Beleg.
The horse was quite ordinary in every respect except its coat had black and white stripes, running all the way from its head down to its tail. Even the king was speechless in amazement.
"Such a wondrous stallion," the king said. "However did you breed it, grandson?"
"Alas, your majesty," said Beleg, kneeling before the king. "I would take full credit but I cannot, for another gifted me a foal with similar stripes a while ago. Areth, the one before you, is its descendant."
"Surely, then the stripes of the steed are not testament of your own skill?" the king's advisor stated with a triumphant look of glee.
Eldacar had a grim expression on his face as he leaned towards his daughter. "Looks like my father's council has been bought by the other grandsons of Isildur. I fear…" He stopped abruptly when a cry spread from outside. He stood up and reached for the hilt of his sword but he needn't have. The cry was not one of alarm or terror but of surprise and wonder, and as Eldacar saw the cause of it, it was as if a weight was lifted from his shoulders and he started laughing.
"I didn't realise my paramour had such a predilection for theatrics," Elya had also stood up and had a relieved smile on her face.
The cause of the disturbance had been a figure soaring down from the sky. A gigantic horse that dwarfed Ciryatar's magnificent beast, brown in colour, with a crimson mane, and massive brown wings with crimson tipped feathers, was flying towards them. The horse flew straight into the court, with people rushing out of its path. The horse trotted towards the king and inclined its head. Harry was on its back and climbed down. He was wearing mithril armour that shone brighter than anything else in the hall other than Elya's mithril necklace. He had a dark elven cloak flowing behind him, fastened by a golden mallorn leaf. The entire court was bedazzled by the sight of the handsome youth, for despite his age his appearance was still that of a youth, who looked partly like a great warrior knight and partly an elven lord of great power.
Harry bowed before the king, then he bowed in the direction where Prince Eldacar and Princess Elya were standing with a cheeky grin on his face that Elya mirrored back.
"Your majesty, this is Rubeus, a winged-horse, the first of its kind," said Harry. "Should you desire, Rubeus has consented to be your royal steed."
The king considered him in silence for several moments. His advisors kept whispering things to him urgently, but the king's attention was fixed between the giant winged beast and then Harry. When the king remained silent, the advisor stepped forward.
"This is clearly not a horse!" he shouted. "Those were the terms of the contest; a horse that would be chosen as royal steed. As horses do not have wings, I deem this monstrosity disqualified together with its master. They are both freaks of nature."
There was a sudden uproar of outrage from the people. Many were outraged at the clear bias while some joined in support of what the advisor had said. Meanwhile, Harry raised his hand and Rubeus the winged-horse extended his wings, which extended nearly from one end of the hall to the other.
"I have had enough of this farce," said Eldacar, stepping in front of Harry, before the wizard did something that was beyond his ability to salvage. "A father's patience can only be tested for so long. This contest should never have happened since Elya has my blessings to marry Harald. But it did, and Harald has clearly demonstrated greater skill than any other. Will your majesty listen to the whispers of vipers and still declare another steed superior than mighty Rubeus?"
The king took a deep breath before answering, "And what if I do declare another steed superior to mighty Rubeus?"
Eldacar's eyes dimmed in disappointment. "Then, I will beseech Harald to take my daughter on the wings of mighty Rubeus far away from this poisonous court, while I hold back the guards that my king will no doubt send after us."
"You would defy the king!" the advisor shouted in outrage. "Guards –"
"That's enough," said the king softly, although a smile was slowly forming on his face. "Leave us." When no one moved, he said in a louder voice. "Leave us, everyone. Except you three." He pointed at Eldacar, Elya and Harry.
"But, sire," the advisor turned to him in shock, but the king waved his hand dismissively and the man bowed and departed.
As the hall emptied, the king was simply observing the three with interest. "Finally, the prince stands up to his father and shows his mettle." He stood up and walked down to where they were standing. He first went to the princess. "You will, of course, marry whosoever you choose. Do you really think I care so little about your happiness, child?"
The princess was surprised and slightly overcome by the hurt in the king's voice. "I – I didn't know what to think." She turned to Harry helplessly.
"Her thoughts and feelings are a product of your own schemes, your majesty," said Harry.
The king looked at him. "Yes, yes, I see that, but a grandfather can hope…" He walked to the prince next. "You are a good man, son, and you have a great heart. In the ideal world, you would be a great king ruling over a grateful people, aided by faithful and capable servants. But real life isn't ideal. My time will come to an end… and I fear you are too gentle, too mild, to deal with the burdens that would be left on your shoulders after I have left."
"Father," Eldacar sounded pained. "Don't say such things. You still have many years left in you."
"Your rivals mock you behind your back," said the king, without mincing words. "They plot against you and… and I sometimes wonder if you are even aware of all that is happening. You are far too consumed in your dreams of saving our people against some terrible foe a thousand years from now that you have lost sight of the foes that surround you today. For the first time earlier, I saw in you the man who would be able to hold the kingdom together after me." He gripped his son's shoulder. "I need that man to always be out there."
When Eldacar was silent and lost in his own thoughts, the king walked towards Harry. "You saw through my plot, did you not?"
"Not entirely, your majesty," said Harry. "I suspected there was something else motivating you than pressure from your nobles but I knew not what it was." He paused. "I thought you wanted me to make a strong impression before your nobles that would make them realise Fornost would be in good hands with me standing beside its ruler."
"You certainly made a strong impression," said Valandil. "Next, they will be calling you Tuor reborn. But that wasn't all, was it? If I read the situation well, it was you who gave Beleg the foal from which he bred this striped horse, was it not?"
Harry grinned sheepishly. "I spent a few days in disguise here in Annuminas to ensure Elya was safe," he said. "I spoke to each of the three men who wished to marry Elya. Beleg, while ambitious, is quite vociferous in his support of Prince Eldacar."
"So it would seem," said Valandil after a moment of hesitation. Then he looked at the princess. "Go now; you are very fortunate, princess, to have found someone who would go to such lengths for you. Your new realm awaits you, and there's a fine steed that is perhaps feeling quite restless in this confined space. Let mighty Rubeus be the sigil of Fornost Erain." He turned to his son. "Come, Prince Eldacar, we have much to talk about the future of our realm."
Harry walked out into the terrace of his palace in Fornost. He waved at Rubeus and Hedwig, both of which were on the terrace and eating in their respective places. Golden mallorn trees grew all over the place, interspersed with Nimloth, the white tree of Numenor. The terrace was a beautiful place, cultivated by Harry and Elya over a decade of tender care. He liked walking out there. Other than the keep tower where a palantir was placed, the terrace was the best vantage point that gave him a clear view of the city. With his superhuman vision, he could literally see through from one end to the other of Fornost. The city had grown rapidly and the population was now nearly ten thousand, with a hundred or so dwarves. He could see the dwarves were already hard at work, and if he focused hard, he could heard the clanking sound of hammer hitting anvil. Some children were out and about, playing in the open spaces of the lower town, which wasn't yet fully constructed.
To many people's surprise, including Eldacar, Harry had decided to focus on looking after the economy and civil affairs of Fornost, while Elya took primary responsibility of creating and organising its military.
The economy of Fornost was dependent on three main things. First, the wares created by the dwarves, from jewellery and ornaments to armour and weapons. Merchants came from all over Arnor to buy these wares, and in time, word about the splendour and wealth of Fornost spread to all corners of the realm. Sometimes, Harry would join the dwarves and give them a hand in making something particularly brilliant using his magic, and in time, he forged a close friendship with Clan Longbeard. Second, Harry had taken up his new hobby of breeding with much fervour and decided that the Abraxan he had bred to win Elya's hand should become the symbol of Fornost. In size, they were about as big as an elephant and a spectacular sight to behold. Harry could see the seven new abraxans he had already bred grazing beyond the outer walls. The winged-horses had become a great source of pride for the people of Fornost and every child in the town dreamt of becoming an Abraxan-handler under Harry's tutelage or joining the new winged cavalry division of Fornost's military. But that had also led to a mass migration of horse-breeders and horse-handlers to Fornost. The third major contribution to Fornost's economy was wine. Harry had learnt much about the art of wine-making during his stay in Thranduil's court and had planted vineyards to produce wine, the sales of which would fill up the treasury of Fornost.
All in all, Fornost was growing in size and splendour and its people led peaceful and prosperous lives. Taxes were so low that many people moved to the town for that reason alone. Healthcare and education was free, with physicians and teachers receiving payment from the treasury. The various guilds were also given a stipend from the treasury, meant for the training and betterment of the various workers and craftsmen.
In respect of the military, Elya had created three specialised divisions: the wardens, the knights and the rangers. The wardens were responsible for law and order within the city and manned the various towers and walls. They were trained primarily in defensive warfare and how to hold back a siege. The knights were trained for offensive warfare out in the open, trained in combat by Elya and occasionally Harry. Rangers were the new winged-cavalry division, and the intention was to eventually have the best knights be further trained as Abraxan riders, who could fight enemies with bows, spears and lances while airborne.
After the initial years, Harry had taken to spending his free time putting into writing the potions he had designed during his time in Greenwood, which only required ingredients found in Middle Earth. Some of these the Hat had suggested when Harry located herbs and creatures with similar characteristics as those found back in his original world, but thereafter Harry began to get the hang of it.
As he mused about his life in Fornost, he heard footsteps and a few moments later, a woman's arms embraced him from behind.
"Husband," Elya called out lovingly. "It is not like you to leave our bed before making love to me in the morning."
"I had a dream," said Harry. "It troubled me and I wanted to get some fresh air."
"Do tell me what ails you," she nuzzled his ear, trailing kisses down to his throat.
"I dreamt of a world in decay," said Harry slowly, pulling her in front of him. "All life had rotten away, the oceans had dried up, and even death had turned on itself. There was no life, no light, nothing that spoke of beauty or happiness. The air was filled with poison from the sun, the land was cursed. And I… I still lived, alone and without any purpose. I still lingered on."
Elya held him tightly, not knowing what to say.
"I fear a day might come when that vision comes real," said Harry, admitting the fear in his heart since he had come to terms with the true nature of his immortality.
"It will not," Elya looked at him intently, her eyes blazing with emotion and determination. "Did you not say that you will one day learn how to travel between worlds?"
"That is what I was told," said Harry. "Nearly 70 years have passed since I first arrived in Middle Earth, and I still haven't been able to do that."
"Give it time," she said simply. "70 years is nothing even for the men of Numenor descent, so to you, it is even less." She hesitated. "I want you to promise me something."
"What?"
"I want you to promise me that after I am gone, you will mourn me for one year, but then you will move on and seek love and happiness again," she said firmly. "One year, no less, no more. I do not want you to shut yourself to the world just because I could not join you in your immortal life."
Harry looked at her with a troubled expression.
"I saw how my father suffered after the death of my mother," she said. "I was a very young child then, but I never want you to suffer like that. I was the one who eventually talked him into taking a second wife, for I knew my mother would have wanted the same. Please, give me your word you will move on after me."
Harry was overcome by emotion. "I give you my word," he said. "But I also give you my word I will do everything I can to keep you with me for as long as I can." He kissed her hand. "I have to consult with the Hat." He left her and went inside and grabbed the Sorting Hat and put it on his head.
'Well, look who has finally remembered me," the Hat muttered darkly.
'I apologise, my old friend,' said Harry sincerely. 'I was busy with the affairs of Fornost. I need your help.'
'Yes, yes, I see your mind,' the Hat said unhappily. 'I would counsel you strongly against what you seek to attempt.'
"Why?" Harry said out loud, unable to hold back the heat from his voice. "Why must I be cursed to lose the ones I love when I have the strength and power to keep them with me?"
'You do not have the right to defy the natural order of life and death,' said the Hat.
"I have that right!" Harry shouted back. "I am immortal and have already defied the order of life and death once and can do so again."
The Hat sighed in his mind. 'The Philosopher's Stone may prolong life for a bit longer but it is no promise of immortality, not in the manner you think it is. Towards the end of their lives, the Flamels were no longer happy. They kept on living, because using the stone had become a force of habit, but I was there when Albus Dumbledore told them the stone was destroyed. Instead of being angry or even saddened, Madam Perenelle started laughing joyfully and she hugged Albus. Nicholas told his former apprentice that he had delivered them from their curse, that life would once again have meaning for them now that they had only limited time left."
"Be that as it may," said Harry. "I would still learn the secret of alchemy from you."
'I see you are determined on this course. To master alchemy is no simple pursuit. Many wizards devote an entire lifetime to learn just the basics and never even manage to embark on the true path of alchemy. You are fortunate, for you have time.'
'I don't have unlimited time,' said Harry. 'I need to have created the stone before I lose Elya to old age.'
'Then, it is fortunate that you already know the basics of alchemy,' said the Hat, to Harry's surprise. 'All the new potions you have created using the ingredients found in Middle Earth, all the metal work you have learnt from the dwarves, the oneness with nature you have experienced with the elves, these are all necessary steps an alchemist must take. What remains before you, however, is the final and most difficult task.'
'What is it?'
'The philosopher's quest,' said the Hat. 'The stone's purpose is to purify. Metal reverts to its purest state – gold. Life reverts to its purest and cleanest state. To create something that has the sole purpose of purifying, you must first purify yourself with the knowledge of creation and convert the base material of your outer character to the golden properties of your higher self. The philosopher's quest is about the evolution of consciousness in the alchemy of time.'
'How do I go about it?'
'I do not know,' said the Hat. 'But from what little I know of the subject, the journey, I believe, is as important, if not more, as the destination.'
With those cryptic words, Harry wandered out of the palace. He walked amongst the people, and many bowed their heads and smiled at him as he walked. Both Harry and Elya were good to the people and were much loved in return. He made his way to the keep and walked up the tower. With the seeing stone in his hand, he sought audience with Cirdan the Shipwright, the oldest elf in Middle Earth.
"I can see your face in the fire, Harry," the Shipwright's face appeared on the seeing stone. "What ails you today? How can I be of service to you?"
"You wouldn't happen to be a spiritual authority, would you?" Harry asked with false lightness. "I seek the knowledge of creation to convert the base material of my outer character to the golden properties of my higher self." He quoted the Hat.
Cirdan smiled. "Such deep philosophical mysteries often ail those more advanced in age than you, young Galen-Galad," he said. "But alas, there is no easy answer for what you seek. Meditation, I understand, is still the best way."
"How does one learn to meditate?"
"You ask that because you do not truly understand the meaning of that word," said Cirdan. "You cannot learn to meditate – you either do it or you don't. To meditate is to live in the present moment, to realise that the past never existed and the future never will, and the present is all that is. Every moment you live in is now, not back then, not later, but here and now. If your mind believes you need to learn it, then you are already looking at the future – a later moment when you would have supposedly learnt it, and so you fail to enter the here and now."
Harry frowned.
"Once you reach perfect union with the present moment, you can hear the music of the Ainu," said Cirdan. "That is when you have become one with your higher self." When Harry remained silent and looked at him with a confused look, Cirdan sighed. "Go to the Old Forest and seek the one known as Iarwain Ben-Adar, or Tom Bombadil, as some call him. If anyone can help you on the path to union with the music, it is he."
"Thank you," said Harry and closed the connection.
After a brief farewell to Elya, Harry transformed into his griffin form and flew towards the Old Forest. As the forest was within the boundaries of Arnor, Harry didn't think he was at all breaking his promise to Prince Eldacar. He would find this Tom Bombadil fellow, and after a brief chat, be back on his way to Fornost.
After all, what could go wrong?
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