Tel\' Lindar (The Bard)

Disclaimer for Tel Lindar:

HANKIE WARNING. There. You have been warned.

Please be aware that I am writing this fic for TWO distinctly different fandoms. As I am aware that what one will automatically know and take for granted, the other might not. Therefore I am explaining - or translating - everything, including LOTR standard verbal knowledge at the bottom. Please be patient.

Please also be aware that this fic is a sequel to a LOTR ring called The Empty Vessel. Tel\' Lindar will stand on its own, but you might want to read it first. If you cannot find it, please let me know.

Warning: This fic, while AU for LOTR, does remain in CURRENT (Book 5) for HP. That means if you haven\'t read the books, including OOTP, there might be some major spoilers.

This fic also contains character death. If you upset easily, do NOT read it. If you like pink and fluffy, this is NOT the fic for you! Do not start it and then flame the hell out of me! This is how the Muses agreed to have it written and I had no choice! If you start it, I suggest you finish it. All things aren\'t what they always seem...

And in the end, she followed him...

***


Title: Tel\' Lindar (The Bard)

Series: Sequel to The Empty Vessel

Author: ZeDrippyVessel

Type: Het

Fandom: HP/LOTR

Pairing: SS/OFC, Haldir/OFC - implied

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: graphic het sex, excessive foul language, violence, major angst, character death, light bondage. Some serious reliving of the smoky 70\'s - It\'s rated NC-17 for a reason!

Any word/phrase spoken in Elvish is either translated immediately or at the end of the chapter, depending on story flow.

Beta: GotsSnape, Alex, Dame Niamh


Disclaimer 1; I\'m not Tolkien, I don\'t pretend to be the Great one, nor am I the amazing JK Rowlings. I just play with their lovely Elves and Wizards and promise to return them in good condition. I didn\'t sell this, yada yada yada. Bronwyn is mine.

Feedback: Yes! I am such a feedback whore!

Timeline: Just a little in the future.

Archiving: OEAM, HLA, OSA, EC, Chaos

Disclaimer 2: To JS Bach, Andreas Vollenweider, Mozart, Elton John, Metallica, Bad Company, Howard Shore, AC/DC and any other musician whose music and lyrics I have impinged on. I have written none of the lyrics and apologize if I have offended any. I also wish to apologize to various television and movies which in the course of this I might have trod on, however, I don\'t think Beavis will mind the plug so much. And to the others who I was very much influenced by. This is ALL your fault!

Dedication: This one is for all the beautiful women, who discovered that true beauty comes in the prime of their lives and not as skinny, young things!

Tel\' Lindar - The Bard


Prologue

***


There was a garden, where my fortunes were planted
Roses of white round my head were entwined
The hand of the wind moved the wheel of my seasons
Love in the cup of my life
There was love in the cup of my life

Painter\'s Waltz
Andreas Vollenweider
Eliza Gilkyson

***

It was supposed to have been a quiet, romantic evening.


That was what Haldir had planned; a serene night out, good food, a movie of her choice, candle-lit bath, followed by passionate hours in the bed, if they actually made it there. Many nights in the past, they had not. After over 38,000 years, he was still surprised that their desire for each other exclusively had not waned, nor had the excitement of the other\'s body dimmed. Occasionally, Elven couples took extra partners, other lovers with the blessing of their spouse. It was not unheard of to have joinings of three or four. More often than not, it was not unexpected.

But not he or his wife.

When he looked at her, he felt the same chill run down his spine that had been there since the night in the abandoned hovel where he had come to the conclusion that he loved the little she-devil.

His ice to her fire.

Just as the Valar had decreed.

The Elves had returned to the World fifteen months previously, to stop global warfare. They were thought to have been a myth, a rumor, a story made up by a learned, yet fanciful genius. Men were shocked to discover that the storyteller was HER child. Many great philosophers, politicians, musicians, artists, writers, people of great influence, were HER children.

Aristotle. Edith of Swan. Merlin. Caesar Augustus. Turlough O\'Carolan. Cleopatra. Mozart. Michaelangelo. Arthur. Liszt. Poe. Columbus. Gandhi. Vivaldi. William the Conqueror. Shakespeare. Chopin. Merlin. Joan of Arc. Teleman. Henry VIII. Thomas Jefferson, Socrates. Morgaine. Abraham Lincoln.

The Storyteller.

All were hers, come down from hers and Haldir\'s lineage. Children of their son Beckett and of their daughter Anselm. For thousands of years, her children, their children, had forged paths and guided man. And she had been their voice, the whisper in the ear, their conscious, their Storyteller.

She had been the one to slowly whisper the history of all Middle Earth into the ears of her child. It had started when he was very young.

\"John, John, my child. Harken to my words...\"

And he had. And he wrote. And he told the world of the ancient Elves, still beautiful, still angelic, still very much alive.

No one believed the stories were real.

And yet, they arrived anyway, seeking to counsel, seeking to save, seeking to aid. It would not have mattered how skilled negotiators Elrond, Celeborn, and Gandalf, were if it had not been for her.

Bronwyn Morgan ap Powell.

A mere human woman, plucked from their time, slung back to Middle Earth, and given tremendous vision, tremendous gifts, tremendous burdens. She had stepped off the boat, a tiny, yet solid woman behind the tall Elves, wearing black jeans, a black turtle neck and a hip-length black cape, the hood back. It was her hat that caused a stir. A black baseball cap, with the words \"Bite me\" emblazoned across the front. She strode around the towering Elves, straight to the President of the United States, wriggling past his security, and grabbed his hand.

And showed him what would happen if serious negotiations for peace did not begin immediately.

It changed the course of the world. And saved Man from total annihilation.

There were those, however, who did not want peace, and several attempts had been made on her life. Haldir was forced to keep her locked away, hidden from unfriendly eyes and she chaffed at the restricted movement granted her.

But things had quieted down and he hoped they could enjoy a special, blissful evening, reminiscent of their days in Rivendell or the Undying Lands. It was early summer, the moon was full and the stars were out. Maybe, just maybe, they could go somewhere outdoors and make love under the trees, like they used to.

It was not meant to be.

As they exited the restaurant, she had leaned up to kiss him tenderly. When he lowered his head, he heard the hammer draw back. He pushed her backwards into the doorway, until he could determine the location of the sniper.


And as he had told her thirty - eight millenniums ago, he would gladly take the arrow, the knife, and now, the bullet, meant for her.

He lay in her lap, blood, his blood, on her hands as she called, attempting to bring him back to the light, tears running down her checks.

\"Haldir, Heru en cormmin, lasto beth nîn, tolo dan nan galad.\"

\"Do not cry, Baraermin. This is meant to be.\" His hand stroked her tear-stained face.

\"Nooo. They took so much from me. Not you as well. Please, do not leave me.\"

He smiled a rueful smile. \"Are our positions not reversed from all those years ago?\" He referred to the day, before she had fully embraced her powers, when she had leapt down on an Orc\'s sword to rescue their friend, Heridil; Heridil, who later courted their wrath by marrying their daughter, Anselm. Bronwyn had died that day and argued with the Valar for a long time, before they sent her back to a grieving Haldir.

\"Do not try to joke! Please do not leave me.\"

Her face was becoming fuzzy to his eyes. He could hear the singing from those already at the Halls of Waiting, wooing him. He pulled her face close to his.

\"I am waiting for you, Baraer. You must retrieve your bow from our bad seed. Trust the new Guardian. He will help you. You cannot join me until you do that and...and... just trust him.\"

\"New Guardian? Trust a new Guardian? Our Bad Seed? Haldir, you speak in riddles. You are my only Guardian, my Shield, my Lord, my Heart...\"

\"Elrond\'s child. His children. The New Wizards. Trust him.\" His voice faded quickly. \"I love you, Baraermin.\"

\"No. Please do not leave me. Haldir, Heru en cormmin, lasto beth nîn, tolo dan nan galad. Please, oh please. Haldir, Heru en cormmin, lasto beth nîn, tolo dan-\"

\"Bara..ermin. I love you, Barae-\"


His hand fell from her face.

\"Noooooo...\"

***

Severus Snape jerked straight up in bed, his head pounding, the nightmare lingering.

Her scream still ringing in his ears.

**********************************************************************


Tel l\' Lindar Chapter 1

Departures and Arrivals or There are Leash Laws in this place, y\'know!.

***

I painted live waters, lightning, my lovers
Made birds out of lapis, snakes molded in gold
A God of Creation, for the price of my soul
Rain, in the cup of my life
Drops of Rain, in the cup of my life

Painters Waltz
Andreas Vollenweider
Eliza Glikyson

***

It was a wasteland; a marsh and it stank to the heavens. And as much as he wished to turn and run...fly...apparate... anything back to where ever he had come from, he was compelled to move forward. Twisted bushes and small fires sprang up from the bog and despite being careful in his footing, putrid, condensed decay sucked up around his boot.

Voices.

No. Not voices.

A solitary voice.

As he searched for the source, he realized he was passing men, men dressed strangely. They were tall, as tall as he and their hair was long, flaxen white like moonlight. They carried archaic weapons and stood still as stone. He came up beside one and noticed a figure, a small cloaked form kneeling in front of the bog. She was rocking back and forth and appeared to be whispering. Her hood fell back and he saw waves and waves of burgundy - brown hair. She was now keening quietly and his desire to turn and run became overwhelming.

He was stopped by a firm hand on his elbow. He scowled in fierce anger at the person who dared touch him.

And looked into the coldest blue eyes he had ever challenged.

The big Elf.

\"Khila he. Lasto he beth. \"

He snatched his arm from the Elf. \"Wha-\"

\"Go to her. Listen to her words.\"

He sneered at the Elf, \"I do not know who you are, but I will not tolerate-\"

He was cut off by a dismissive wave of the Elf\'s hand in the air, the gravely voice quietly insistent. \"What you will or will not tolerate is of no concern to me. I care not for your desires. You must go to her and listen. I am forced to entrust you with my very heart and most precious jewel and you must not fail in your destiny, lest you take her down with you!\" And with that, the Elf spun him around and propelled him forward. He looked at the woman. She had shoved green sleeves up to her elbows and had thrust her hands into the murky water. He could hear her voice, its lilting Welsh accent, plainly.

\"Elf. He was Celandone of Doriath. His wife had already faded for the Halls. He left three children, one who also died on this plain. Go, go to the Halls of Waiting. Go to your wife. Rest peacefully in the light, Celandone.\" She pulled her hands out of the bog and shifted. Her hands went in again.

\"Man. He was Halfred of Maywatch. His wife\'s name is Marilla. She was pregnant with their first child. You had a fine son, Halfred. Go, rest in the light, in the place of your fathers, Halfred of Maywatch.\" Again, the hands came up from the muck. Fascinated, he walked behind her.

And saw.

Bodies. The stench was over-powering and he hissed at the horror. Pale bodies of warriors, lying beneath the water, things growing around. How long they had been lying beneath the waters, he could not tell. Some, he could only see heads, body parts, others, all, the splendid, detailed, and hacked armor could be seen. He looked back at her and watched her shift again, and put her hands on yet another body.

She was touching them. By Merlin\'s Robe, she was reaching and grasping hold of them. How could one fathom...

\"Orc. Grimrash, the Bad-Moon. You are forgiven. Go, seek the light.\"

She stood up and moved around the tree. Falling to her knees, she crammed her hands yet again into the vile liquid.

\"Elf. Also of Doriath. Arborion. Ah, Sweet Elbereth. He was only a baby, only 122 years old. Go, seek the Halls of Waiting. Rest in the light, Arborion.\" She stood yet again and he saw numerous tears, streaming down her face. He wondered how long this could go on. The marsh had no end. Everywhere he looked, he saw more and more bodies. He looked behind him and only the one Elf, the one who had forced him, thrust him forward, remained and even his outline was fading. Her voice pierced his conscious.

\"Man. Nay... Wizard. Elrond\'s child. Severus Snape of Britain.\" He jerked at the sound of his name and went to stand over her. \"He died alone.\" He could see his visage under the water, black hair, black robes floating outwards, her hands on his - the body\'s - chest.. \"He died alone.\" Staring in horror at his pale semblance in the vicious - smelling liquid, he did not notice she was looking at him. She said it a third time, enunciating, punctuating each word. \"He. Died. Alone. But he was not supposed to.\" He looked down and was consumed by the fire in her brown eyes. \"You are NOT supposed to die alone.\" And he saw the white eyes of his corpse, fly open.

Nooo.

He sat up in the dark bed, the smell of rot permeating the room.

***

The train was moving, faster and faster. And as it moved closer to its destination, the woman fell deeper and deeper into despair.

He waits. They take you to him. You are now the gift.

***

The staff of Hogwarts watched departing students from their respective stations. Students, young and old, dragging steamer trunks, gushing from the front doors, heading to the train station, free for the summer, some free forever. The din was deafening, but nothing was done to tame it.

It had been a difficult year. Voldemort had finally been defeated and Harry Potter had stood up to the task well. And the boy only in his Sixth Year. Those who were innocent but long suspected of guilt were cleared and those who were guilty had been taken to be tried and sentenced fairly. Albus Dumbledore\'s eyes raked over the tall blonde head going down the steps.

Yet, some had managed to escape by the oiliness of their very genes. Voldemort might be dead and gone, but there were still skirmishes to be fought.

For one formidable player of a mighty battle of wills was heading this way with the speed of a train. Albus turned his attention to his Potions Master.

Snape looked like he had not slept well in weeks, possibly months. It had been a difficult year for him as well. His hard work, spying for the Order, had paid off, almost at the cost of his very life. Dumbledore sighed in resignation. If anyone deserved a quiet summer to rest and relax, it was Severus Snape. Unfortunately, it was not going to be.

Unless the Bard - the Elves called her ‘Tel\' Lindar\', - was in a mood to be contrite and pliable. But from all reports, she was anything but contrite or pliable.

Snape\'s head ached. Nothing he made, nothing he conjured, helped. It was bad enough that he caught a Fifth year in his own house cheating on his final exam. The students had been especially rowdy and boisterous, daring him to give them detention on the very last day. And he had given it to several, causing them to miss portions, if not all, of the graduation festivities.

His head pounded. The nightmares at night were getting worse.

Something... someone... SHE... was coming. And getting closer by the minute.

And he knew, knew in the pit of his stomach, she, who ever SHE was, was going to turn his well-ordered world, upside-down.


***
Train, Train
Get me on out of this town
Train, oh Train
Lord she\'s Memphis bound
Take that midnight train to Memphis
Lord leave if you can

***

The sound of the rails were hypnotic. The pale, gaunt woman leaned her head against the cold pane of glass and watched the countryside pass her by. The wolf\'s head lay on her feet, its weight and fuzzy warmth, a comforting feeling. The voice in her head chanted in rhythm with the turning wheels of the red engine.

He closes in. He closes in. He closes in. He close...

\"Tithen aras, when was the last time you ate?\" Celeborn\'s voice interrupted her thoughts. She did not look at the dignified Elf across from her.

\"I had lembas this morning.\" Her breath fogged on the glass of the car. She returned to her musings, ignoring her three companions. Celeborn looked to the younger Elf sitting next to her, who shook his negatively. Celeborn\'s shoulders sagged in defeat and he flicked his fingers to the Elf. He quietly slid across and spoke sleep words in her ear.

\"No, Rumil, please do no...\" she slumped over into his lap, in a sound, dreamless sleep.

\"Celeborn. Was that truly necessary?\" The third occupant was an elderly- looking man, dressed in white robes, with long white hair and beard. His staff, with the intricate top knot carving was also white.

\"It is the only time she sleeps peacefully, Gandalf. She does not eat, unless one sits on her and forces a bite or two down her. She is doing everything she can to fade, to join him. She knows what is being required of her, but she does not accept, refuses to believe. This is worse than when she first came to us. At least then, she was willing to live.\"

\"Besides, \" Rumil spoke up, \"we cannot discuss anything around her. She speaks every language that ever existed and she would use every word to her advantage.\" He stroked the hair of her head, gently. \"Why did they have to take my brother? Why does she need a new Guardian?\" A single tear ran down his cheek. \"Why did they not give her to me?\"

Celeborn and Gandalf looked at each other. Celeborn knew that Haldir\'s middle brother cared deeply for his sister-in-law and was in great emotional pain being forced to deal with the fact that she was being handed to another for safe keeping. Rumil\'s friend, Heridil, had loved her greatly, but eventually focused his charms on her daughter, Anselm. Celeborn watched as Rumil unconsciously stroked the reddish brown waves of hair.

\"She has you wrapped around her finger. The Valar know that. Rather than watching her path, you would be following her like a puppy on a leash. You would be a bigger lump of drool than Amadeus here.\" The large silver - white wolf lying in the floor at her feet, opened one dark blue eye at the mention of his name before returning to slumber. Rumil silently nodded his agreement. \"Many times, over the ages, you have been the buffer between them, seeing both sides, being their mediator. But again, too many times have you been part of her shenanigans, keeping Haldir up in arms. Besides, the Valar have chosen one of Elrond\'s children as her new Guardian. He will be able to help in ways we cannot fathom.\"

\"She MUST get that bow of hers back.\" Gandalf hissed through clenched teeth. \"It is in a very bad place and if the possessor had even the slightest inkling of what he held, he would abuse the power to the detriment of all!\"

Rumil\'s brow was furrowed. \"Let us say she gets it back. What then? It belongs with her children. Who would receive it? Faeowynne? She would not wish it; she is her Adar\'s daughter and she enjoys the battles side by side with her sons. Duncan? Duncan was left behind in the Undying Lands for good reason.\" His eyes searched both Celeborn and Gandalf. Celeborn colored and bent his head.

\"The Valar will decide. Her children are numerous. It will go to the one best suited.\"

The car was very quiet for several moments.

\"By the order of the Valar, she enlists the help of this new Guardian, Elrond\'s child, you say, and they find her bow. Was there a need to kill my brother and send him to the Halls of Waiting? She loved him deeply; her grief is fathomless! How could they possibly do this to her? I think there is more to this than you tell me!\"

\"CEASE!\" Celeborn\'s head jerked up, anger flashing in the ancient blue eyes. \"One does not question the Valar! They do, they choose, what is best for all; Elves, Men; the Others. Do you think I like it? Nay! I am well aware how much she loved your brother. I know what they took from her, I was there the first time she looked in my Lady Wife\'s mirror and saw all, when she saw her past before Haldir, and her destiny with him. I was there when she consulted the mirror before deciding to return to these shores early. I was there ten months ago when she looked again and saw her new destiny.\"

He stood up and began to pace, upsetting the wolf in the floor, who retaliated by climbing up on the seat that the agitated Elf had vacated and laying his rather docile head in Gandalf\'s lap.

\"You do not understand, Rumil. She cannot return to the Undying Lands. She is no longer charmed with an Elf\'s life. Haldir was her passport, her key. With him now in the Halls of Waiting, she is returned to her old life. She is mortal. Her life will still be long; the Valar have graced her with that, but she will eventually die.\" He ran his hands over his scalp, through the beautiful blonde hair, dislodging the mithril clip that anchored his top braid in place. In bitterness, he slung the metal object against the window. \"She cannot fade, she cannot kill herself. If she does that, she will be denied the Halls and therefore be denied to be with Haldir there or in her next life. Her only hope, her only chance of that is to fulfill her destiny, a destiny combi... working with the gifts of Elrond\'s child.\"

He sighed deeply and went to sit back down, only to be growled at by Amadeus. He sighed again and sat next to Rumil, putting his hand on the brown head. \"If it is any consolation, I agree with you; I think it unfair to her. They have demanded to much of this Vessel.\"

Rumil took his hand from her head and stroked her proud jaw line. \"What do we know about Elrond\'s child, this ‘new wizard\'? What kind of man is he? Can he keep her safe? Can he guide her? Will he care for her at all? Will he worry about her? Will he watch? Has he even accepted what has been thrust on him, or will he have no desire to be her Guardian?\"

Celeborn shook his head and looked to the Istari. Gandalf cleared his throat. \"He is as dark, as Haldir was light. He has walked questionable paths and made poor decisions early in life, decisions he has lived to regret and worked hard to eradicate. The man is brilliant. He and Haldir are different as night and day, and yet very much alike. He broods, prefers to be alone, and is as arrogant as Haldir, if not more so. He is as powerful in his arts as Haldir was in his; as Bronwyn is in hers. He will be, by all accounts, a splendid Guardian and Shield for her. That is if she allows it and if he accepts the challenge. It is possible he will consider this another chance for atonement, although he has truly been forgiven of all past deeds.\" It was quiet for several moments.

\"Does she realize her weapon skills have returned?\"

It was Rumil\'s turn to shake his head. \"She refuses to pick up a bow. When her guitar transformed back into her sword, she cried for hours. She wears her knives as usual, but refuses to unholster them. She was told all those years ago, never to use them in battle again. It seems the Valar have changed the rules again.\"

The car fell into silence.

***

\"Severus, my friend, you look exhausted.\" Albus approached Snape and turned a concerned eye to the tall man. \"You have not slept well in several months. Would you like to join me in my chambers and discuss what is troubling you?\"

Snape took a deep breath and with fathomless black eyes glanced down at the elderly Headmaster. \"For some reason,\" his voice was velvet, low, \"I have a feeling you know the nightmare that troubles me.\"

A not-so-merry, slight smile graced the face of Professor Dumbledore. \"You feel her. She comes closer.\" He heard the intake of breath from the Potions Master. \"Aye. I know the circumstances. I did not know how closely you were already connected.\" He shook his head ruefully. \"Of all here, you most deserve peace and quiet. But she comes. She needs a Protector; she needs help and you have been chosen to oversee that she gets what she needs.\" He was almost startled to see that Snape was leaning over him, anger etched on his face.

\"Why me? What have I done to deserve this? Have I not done enough penance?\"

Albus patted the frustrated wizard on the shoulder. \"Because, the Gods wanted the best for her. She had the best in her old world and now she will have the best in this world. Think of her as a gift. She has much to teach you. And you her.\" He nodded towards the dungeons. \"Come. She will be here shortly. Let\'s see what we can do with those musty rooms across the hall from yours to make her feel welcome.\"

***

The train was pulling into the station and Bronwyn was awake. She stood in the window, watching the station pull close. The platform was crowded with departing children of various ages and sizes.

\"It would have been nice if you changed into something more... feminine, lirimaer. Of all the beautiful things...\"

\"Nay. I will not dress to impress anyone. I dress for myself. If *he* cannot deal with me the way I am, then he can...\"

\"Bite me!\" Rumil answered for her. She grinned dolefully at her old friend. She was wearing her customary black jeans, a black tank top. Her hair was loose and if one looked closely, you could a raggedy, much patched teddy bear tucked into the back waist band of her pants. Her knives were holstered in the black leather belt. Her boots were polished and she had buckled on her spurs - she liked the sound they made when she walked and quite frankly, it made people move out of her way. She wore her wedding ring on a mithril chain around her neck, along with her corded hung cross. Her only other piece of jewelry was an armband - a mithril snake, with emerald eyes, wrapped around her right forearm. She had worn it into battle, into every difficult situation since the Battle of Mirkwood and Dol Guldur. \"I still do not understand why I have to have another Guardian. Nor do I understand why, if I am going to teach, I have to be here so many months in advance!\"

\"Tithen aras! This is a new place. You have not taught in a school setting in many, many years. Your life is in danger out there and believe it or not, this is the safest place for you.\"

\"He is here. You send me here because HE is here.\" She turned and looked at Gandalf. \"I don\'t want his help. I simply want to pick his brain, find my bow and give it...\"

\"And give it to who? Duncan has his limitations, he is unable. Faeowynne? Faeowynne does not have the desire, nor do her children, Kalinion or Einion.\"

\"My children are as numerous as the grains of sand. Surely there is one.\"

Gandalf laid his hand on her shoulder. He knew well her strength and fortitude. And obstinance. \"All will come clear in time. One of your children will step forward at the appropriate time.\"

The train had slowed almost to a stop and they moved towards the front.


\"The time had better be appropriate as soon as it is found.\" She slung his words back at him. \"I want nothing but to join Haldir in the Halls of Waiting.\" The train stopped and the First Born and Istari stepped out in front of her. The reception they received from the children on the platform was not completely unexpected.

The students took an involuntary step back. The Wizard was tall, dressed in his bright, white robes. He looked down at the children in black robes. ‘Ah,\' he thought to himself, ‘Elrond\'s twin sons, Elrohir and Elladan, were very, very busy young Elves, after their father left for the Undying Lands\'. He could not help but smile. If they were awed with the appearance of Gandalf, sharp intakes of breath were clearly audible when the two tall Elves stepped down, especially from the females when they looked upon the visage of Rumil.

Celeborn was in official robes, silver with blue sash. His white-blonde hair was braided at the top and held with mithril clips, a metal no longer found on Earth. Rumil was dressed in Lothlórien March Warden black and grey - a tunic and leggings. His leather boots shone and on his back, his bow stood out. His silver hair was also braided back in the Lothlórien way, with front locks laying on his shoulders, one small braid leading to the back, woven above delicately pointed ears and a large braid laying from the top, over long, loose waist-length hair. His grey eyes raked over the crowd and the girls to the very last sighed. He was beautiful to behold. Eyes narrowed jealously when he turned to offer a hand to the woman behind him.

She was tiny, petite. Her shoulder-length hair was loose brown waves, with burgundy highlights that shone in the sun and flashed with a fire that matched her brown eyes. Her skin was fair and she had generous curves. The beautiful Elf tucked her left hand into the crook of his arm and spoke in her ear. A gasp rose from those in the front and a buzz filtered through the group.

\"Her arm. Did you see what she wore on her arm? The Slytherin symbol, a snake...\"

\"By the Gods. She has a wolf...\" Amadeus had plopped down on quiet paws and hung close to her, looking around furtively, with his tail tucked between his legs.

One recognized her. Draco Malfoy\'s blue eyes narrowed. He KNEW her, knew who she was, what she was. What was the Bard doing here? Protection? Hiding? She had been seen little since the death of the filthy Elf that had been her husband. He knew his father would be very interested in this turn of events. He saw Hagrid motion to them and they cut a swath in the crowd and followed him towards the school. Yes, his father would be very interested in what exactly what was going on here.

***

Hagrid watched the group come through the crowd of students and his eyes fell naturally on the small woman in black. Ah, so this was the little missy that had everyone in an uproar. She certainly didn\'t look all that all-powerful, although the way she dressed would certainly make many look twice. But again, Harry hadn\'t looked like much either when he first came to Hogwarts. He approached the one person in the party he knew.

\" ‘ello, Gandalf. Beautiful day y\'picked to come to ‘ogwarts.\"

Gandalf looked up, up, at the tall Hagrid and smiled deeply. \"Mae govannen, Hagrid. Tis indeed a fine day today. It helps that the children are leaving, eh?\" The ancient wizard and half-giant shared their laughter together and placed their hands on the other\'s shoulders, in the Elven Middle Earth -style. \"Please, allow me to introduce my companions.\" He gestured to the three behind him. \"This is Lord Celeborn.\" Celeborn put his hand to his heart and inclined his head. Hagrid did likewise, although not as gracefully. \"And this is Rumil, Lord Celeborn\'s March Warden.\" Hands over hearts again. \"And this..\" Gandalf brought Bronwyn forward. \"Is Bronwyn Morgan ap Powell.\"

\"Aye. The little Bard.\" Hagrid\'s huge hands gently enveloped hers. \"Sorry, sorry we were to ‘ear ‘bout yer ‘usband. Terrible thing.\" He looked deep into eyes where the fire smoldered in quiet pain.

Or was it concealed rage?

Gandalf was continuing his introductions. \"This, my friends, is Hagrid, the Gamekeeper of Hogwarts and assistant professor in the Care of Magical Creatures. There is not a finer person to help you find your way around this place than he. Ah, Hagrid, I almost forgot,\" he motioned to the wolf who had not left Bronwyn\'s side, \"this is Amadeus, Bronwyn\'s ever present friend. As long as your voice is not raised to her nor your words heated, you will find him a most docile creature.\"

They had turned and were headed to the lake. \"‘e looks like a fine animal. Much like me Fang. Tell me, ‘ave you spoken to Professor Dumbledore about ‘im. Dogs aren\'t allowed in the school. Fang stays wit\' me, o\'course, but ‘e\'s outside, y\'know.\"

They had reached a small pier and Hagrid turned to hand Bronwyn in the white vessel. She was slightly reminded of the swan boats the Elves had used to cross the Anduin to fight the Orcs in the Battle of Dol Guldur, right after the destruction of the One Ring. She and Haldir had had one of the biggest arguments they had ever had that day.

She had fought a dragon.

She and Haldir had fought and killed the dragon. And in between fireballs, Haldir had managed to save five scrolls and two small books. She still had them, kept them with her always, although the information contained in them was not important. Poetry, a marriage proposal and contract. She had kept them, knowing he knew what the destruction of the library had done to her - the lost books, the lost knowledge and the fact that he attempted to rescue what he could while in dire peril meant the world to her.

He had done it, for her.

So like him.

She climbed in the boat and kept her head down, tears welling up. Amadeus sensed her pain and sat next to her, head in her lap. Most wolves have icy blue for eyes, but not this one. They were dark, dark blue and his coat had been the color of Haldir\'s moon-blonde hair when he was born. She purposely named him after his favorite composer. She listened half-heartedly to the quiet, whispered conversation still going.

\"Yes, I have spoken to Professor Dumbledore about the wolf. He agrees with me that Amadeus needs to stay with her. He was born the day after her husband\'s death to a litter Haldir\'s she-wolf had. He was the largest, a bully, pushing his siblings out of the way. Bronwyn took pity on the rest of pups and kept him and nursed him. We think it was the only thing that kept her sane. Taking him from her would be the final blow.\" They were all now in the boat and Hagrid had climbed to the front.

Silently the boat cast off and headed across the lake. Bronwyn looked around, could hear no motor, there were no oars, no tiller, no sail...

\"Hagrid, How does it that this boat moves? I can see no motor or any device to propel it?\" Her hand idly stroked the head of the wolf.

\"Ah, Miss Bronwyn. ‘Tis magic.\" Hagrid looked over his shoulder and smiled. \"Everything at ‘ogwarts is run by magic.\"

\"Great.\" she muttered, continuing to stroke the wolf\'s head absent-mindedly. \"Just great. And I have none. No magic. How am I supposed to teach these children?\"

\"Oh, Miss Bronwyn. Y\' ‘ave magic. Y\'jist ‘aven\'t found it yet!\" Despite his simple ways, Bronwyn found herself liking this gentle giant. Gandalf had spoken of him in glowing terms, with great affection.

Duncan would adore him. But Duncan was home in the Undying Lands and probably didn\'t know his Ada was dead. Would she ever see her beloved youngest - and eldest - again? Rumil was talking to her and she felt him tap her on the shoulder.

\"Bronwyn, Bronwyn. Look. It looks like...\" She looked up and Amadeus looked up as well at the school. She took it in with the surrounding hills and forest.

\"My God. It\'s Dol Guldur. This place has been built in the remains of Mirkwood Forest.\"


***

Where once was light, now darkness falls.
Where once was love, love is no more.\"
Don\'t say goodbye.
Don\'t say I didn\'t try.

(Gollum\'s Song
Howard Shore)


***

Dumbledore and Snape had not spent much time in the rooms being prepared for her. They were different, unusual for a Professor to have such space. And space on two floors at that. Severus was miffed at the amount of energy being expended on her behalf. The house-elves were bustling about, her trunks had already arrived. Trunks and trunks and boxes and more boxes.

And he could feel her getting closer. She was now within minutes of her arrival, in a boat, on the lake.

Fury. He could feel her smoldering fury and impatience to... just incredible anger. For some reason, music was rolling over and over in his head with her thoughts. It took him a few minutes to figure out what he was listening to. A piano sonata...

Beethoven. Dur Sturm. The Tempest.

Shades of the storm to come.

He steeled himself, reaching deep for that cold, impersonal space he kept inside. He needed answers; wanted answers, and by Merlin\'s Robe, he would have them by dinner. Whether she wanted to give them or not.

\"How far away is she, Severus?\" Albus peered at him over his eyeglasses. \"Come now, I know you are aware.\"

\"They are on the lake.\" He was feeling surlier and surlier by the minute. So was she. Most excellent, he thought to himself. We will make a lovely team, for whatever purpose it is for.

\"Wonderful!\" Albus smiled serenely and rubbed his hands together. \"They will be here in time for lunch!\"

***

And we will wait
To be so alone.\"
We are lost,
We can never go home.


(Gollum\'s Song
Howard Stone)

***

They came up the stairs, Rumil\'s eyes were capturing everything. Antiques, ancient paintings, rugs, tapestries on the walls. The place was a living, breathing museum. Bronwyn was also taking everything in as well. Music softly began to well in the background, music of her doing, ancient, medieval sounds. Celeborn and Gandalf looked at each other.

She had not created music in the air, since Haldir\'s death. Only keening wails.

They came to large, double doors and followed as Hagrid threw them open. Bronwyn slowly melted into the back of the small group, as if hoping not to be seen. She refused to look at the group of people, sitting at a round table towards the front of the hall. She took in the ceiling - enchanted, obviously, with its free swinging candles - and large, oversized fireplace on the right side. Four long rows of tables went down the length of the room and she was again amazed at the antediluvian paintings and tapestries. She could quite possibly sit in this one room for days, weeks, studying the walls alone.

\"Ah, Gandalf. Mae govannen, my friend. It is good to see you again.\" Bronwyn\'s eyes were drawn to the elderly wizard standing in front of the table. His hair and beard was as long as Gandalf\'s and his smile was genuine as he clasped the Istari. \"Please, introduce us to your party.\"

Bronwyn ignored the introductions. She was busy taking in the panorama of art and calming her nerves. *He* had her in his sights and she refused to allow him to feel or see her discomposure. She could almost imagine his eyes on her and she knew he knew what he was to her. She was unaware that she had was gently pulling on a lock of hair, until Rumil tapped her hand. She clenched her teeth.

\"Ah. I know who this one is!\" The aging wizard made his way around Rumil to her. \"You are Bronwyn Morgan ap Powell. I am Albus Dumbledore.\" He reached for her hand. \"May I call you Bronwyn?\"

She bit back a rude retort. It was not this kindly sorcerer\'s fault she was in the position she was in and it would be most unfair to take her rising resentment out on him. She lifted an eyebrow. \"If it is your wish, Professor Dumbledore.\" She was surprised how quiet and calm her voice sounded. She knew she would not be able to contain herself for long.

The background music changed. Orlando Gibbons. 15th century. Lute. Several of the people sitting at the table looked quietly around to search the origin of the music, not realizing that she was the source.

\"Please, dear, call me Albus. Come, allow me to introduce you.\" He turned and led her in front of Gandalf and Celeborn. \"Everyone, this is Bronwyn Morgan ap Powell. She has agreed,\" - she snorted at this, and he ignored her - \"to be our Muggles Studies Professor for next year.\" He smiled up at her. \"Who better to teach Muggles Studies than the Master Muggle Historian, eh?\"

She did not smile back. No, most definitely not contrite, not pliable. Severus had his work cut out for him.

He began next to his empty chair, introducing all there. Professor Flitwick, (Charms, Levitation, oh can you fly me away from here?) Professor Trelawney, (Divination - maybe she will read my tea leaves and tell me who will kill the other first!) Professor McGonagall, (transfiguration - lovely! Maybe she would teach me to turn my so-called Guardian into a rabbit or hamster!) Professor Lupin, (Defense against the Dark Arts. My, doesn\'t he have a wolfish grin!) Madame Hooch, (flying lessons - oh my! Celeborn would love that!) Professor Snape (potions, I bet he could pop up a poison or sleeping draught to keep whomever off my tail, so I can do... my, my, my, what glittering black eyes you have.) Professor Sprout, (Herbology, maybe she can allow me a corner to plant something illegal!) It went on for several minutes. Bronwyn silently scoped each and everyone out, raking them over with her eyes. She didn\'t smile, didn\'t speak, just stared holes through each and every one. Finally, Dumbledore had gone through each and every person at the table. He still held her hand, gently patting.

Amadeus was making his own rounds. He padded around the table and slowly sniffed at everyone. He reached Remus Lupin and chuffed once. Remus smiled and gave his head a stroke, scratching behind the ear. For a moment, the moon colored beast allowed him to scratch and admire him, but rather than sit down and allow the regard to continue, he moved on.

And stopped next to Severus. And stared.

Severus stared back at the wolf. Ebony eyes looked into indigo blue. And the wolf did something he had never done with anyone, except Bronwyn. He sat next to the Potions Master and laid his head on his knee. Severus attempted to shift his attention back to the conversation, but found it difficult, if not impossible to do so, with the wolf attempting to make eye contact. He bounced his leg, pushed, anything to move the blasted wolf away from him. Amadeus did not take the hint.

\"There, my dear. Would you like introduce yourself? Add anything?\"

Bronwyn calmly removed her hand from his benign grasp and again perused the ensemble. She never smiled and the music behind her changed yet again . A death knoll arose in the background, as she conjured up AC/DC\'s ‘Hell\'s Bells\' - just enough to be heard. Celeborn closed his eyes in dismay and Amadeus whined. She moved to stand in the front of the group and again looked the table up and down. \"Yes, I would like to add something. You all know who I am. You all know why I am really here. Now, I want to know,\" her eyes narrowed, \"which one of you sons of bitches is holding my leash?\"

***

You fell away, What more can I say?
The feeling\'s evolved
I won\'t let it out
I can\'t replace Your screaming face
Keep on trying I won\'t die so easily
(I will not die!)
Why is everything so fucking hard for me?
(I will not die!)

System
Linkin Park

***

\"Is she demented?\" Madame Hooch leaned towards Remus with her question. She had started to ask it of Severus, but he appeared to be occupied with a rather large, over-affectionate wolf. \"Remus, I thought Severus hated dogs!\"

\"She isn\'t demented. She is in pain. A great deal of pain. And yes,\" he looked around Madame Hooch in amusement, \"Severus despises dogs!\"

Severus was really having problems. He stood up after hearing her rather rudely worded question and almost fell, as the wolf was sitting on his robes. He unsuccessfully attempted to jerk them out from underneath the fiend and turned cold, dark eyes on the woman.

\"Madame Morgan, Professor Powell, which ever you wish to be called. I would like to have a word with you if you would be so kind as to call off your animal.\" He was still snatching at his overflowing vestments and the wolf appeared to be enjoying the ride, sliding around on the floor, yipping and growling playfully.

\"Amadeus! Come!\" She clicked her fingers once and the canine grinned at the dark, frowning countenance of the irritated wizard before sliding under the table and joining her, sitting obediently at her side. His head came to her hand and she stroked the noble beast with much fondness. \"Good boy.\"

Snape came around the table and moving past her with a terse \"Follow me\", strode down the aisle, robes flying behind him like wings towards the double doors. His movements were quick, sure. She looked at her companions with a smirk and turned on her heel, arms out, graceful hands mimicking bird wings flying as she strode out behind him.

Rumil laughed and murmured to Celeborn, who smiled in return.

\"What does he say?\" Albus asked of Gandalf. Gandalf was smiling at the young Elf\'s remarks.

\"He says, we have witnessed a turning point. She smiles. She has not smiled in many, many months. Even if it was an evil smile truly meant for Orcs.\" He gave a comical sigh. \"I am afraid your Potions Master is in for a bumpy ride. I hope his sense of humor holds up\"

The group around the table tittered nervously. \"No,\" Albus shook his head slowly.. \"I am very afraid that Severus does not have much of a sense of humor.\"

The two Elves and the Istari looked at each other in disappointment. Rumil\'s voice, slowly stilted in the Common Tongue - English - rang clear.

\"Perhaps, we should feel most sorry for your Potions Master.\"

Only Remus saw Amadeus pad softly out, following behind his Lady.

***

He had moved so fast that she was following the tails of his robes, fluttering in the breeze. Down and around ancient stairs.

\"Excuse me,\" she called out, \"but do you think you could kind of like...wait up? Or at the very least, slow down?\"

His voice called back. Despite the harsh tone, it was low, velvety, sliding melodically across her musically - trained ears.

\"Had you done what I asked to begin with, you would not be so woefully behind. I suggest you follow simple instructions.\" and she heard him continue on.

She stopped and scowled at the wolf. \"So. That\'s how he\'s going to be. We will just have to fix that, won\'t we?\" Amadeus appeared to nod in agreement. \"I am so glad great minds think alike. Go stop him.\" Amadeus loped ahead around the corner, down another set of steps and soon she heard growling and cursing. Bronwyn reached the top of the steps in time to see.

\"Out of my way, you hound from hell, before I transform you into a furry rug to walk on in front of my fireplace!\" Amadeus had him by the tails of his robe and was pulling him around in tight circles, effectively binding Snape\'s legs. The grim professor had pulled his wand out and was beginning to brandish it as a weapon.

Her knives were out and spinning on her fingers before she took a second thought. She had not realized she had called them, much less knew that the holster was unsnapped

\"I think not, sir.\" His face jerked up at her, black hair wild, ebony eyes reflecting the flames from the fiery sconces on the walls. \"Before you could utter the first syllable, make the first sound, I would have you pinned to the wall either by your ears or robes. It matters not to me.\" The revolving blades were hypnotic. She could hear them singing.

He sneered. \"Think so?\" The wolf had turned loose of his robes and had returned to her side. \"These walls are stone. I doubt any weapon you have could penetrate them.\"

She had made her way down the steps and now stood on the bottom riser, just above the floor. He was tall. Very tall...

As tall as ....

She shoved back the thought. The knives continued to spin on her finger tips and he heard her whisper, \"Come, come, my darlings! Come to Beavis!\" The knives flew from her hands, as she slung them to the far wall. The chink as they hit the wall echoed through the corridors. And they stayed.

Severus stared at the knives. They didn\'t look the same; they looked wider, in some strange way. And they were buried into the wall, almost to the hilt. He looked at her in shock. And saw her flick her wrists.

The sound of metal scraping stone was heard as he watched the knives fly back into her hands. They spun on her fingers again until she reholstered them.

\"What sort of Muggle are you?\" He had silently crept until he was literally on top of her. She could see the exquisite workmanship on his frock coat underneath his robes; he was so close, she could feel the heat emanating from his body, his smell, the smell of... burning wood. \"You are not supposed to have magic!\"

Her eyes moved slowly upwards. Over the high, black collar, the hint of white from his shirt barely peeking out over the top, the face, the thin lips, pressed hard in a narrow line. The prominent, hooked nose. Those eyes. Those awesome, hypnotic eyes. This face bore pain and sorrow and regret, and a small, very tiny part of her soul wanted to reach out and ask ‘Who did this to you? Who broke your heart? Stole your smile?\' But she forced her mind back to the question.

\"I am a Muggle who is not a Muggle. I have no magic, only defenses.\" She took a deep breath, inhaling more of his intoxicating scent. \"I would like to apologize for Amadeus. He was doing my bidding.\"

\"And you bid him to do what? Harm my person?\"

Her face took on a rather bemused expression. \"No. I asked a simple request of you. You chose to ignore it. I asked him simply to retain you, so I could catch up.\"

He caught her sitting in his mind. Fury still radiated. Fury that masterfully covered... great personal anguish. She was going to great lengths to cover her pain. And now, a new emotion.

Amusement.

\"You laugh at what you gather is foolishness. I do not tolerate foolishne-\"

\"Nay. You are not foolish.\" Her eyes bored hard into his. \"However, I am entertained by your attitude.\" Her face then lit up into a rather child-like smile. \"You are such a hard-ass.\" Her voice dropped an octave and she dipped her head towards him, even closer to his body, as if to whisper a secret. \"I quite like hard-asses.\" As if realizing, she was still standing within inches of him, she attempted to step back, only to hit her spurs on the rising stone step. She lowered her head and stepped down and around him, regathering her thoughts. \"Come now, I was following you, as you wished to speak to me. Where were you taking me? Is it necessary that we go so far, just for a chat.\"

\"I assure you, Madame Powell...\"

\"Please. Call me Bronwyn. And you are?\"

He closed his eyes in exasperation. \"I assure you, Madame-\"

\"Bronwyn. Braun-win. Try it!\"

The black eyes reopened and bored into her very soul. \"I assure you,\" his voice gritted between clenched teeth, \"we are not going to have ‘just a chat\'!\" His frown deepened, as if that were actually possible, and he turned to continue his path. The woman and wolf followed closely behind and he heard her hiss what sounded like ‘neithadol.\' Her footfalls were quiet, hardly heard and Severus caught himself several times beginning to look backwards to make sure she kept up, but he did not want to give her the satisfaction of knowing he would slow for her if necessary. They wound their way deeper into the foundations of Hogwarts.

She followed, noticing the hallways becoming dimmer and dimmer and it worried her in a small way that a strange, angry man with some pretty serious powers, was taking her to parts unknown. She glanced down at Amadeus, who walked assuredly at her side.


He stopped suddenly and waving his wand muttering, he opened a door and stepped aside, gesturing her in.

\"Thank you... er... what was your name?\"

‘Snape.\"

\"Snape? Family name?\" His headache was returning with a vengeance, but he never let on. His facial expression never changed.

\"Professor Snape, Madam.\"

\"Uh, uh, uh!\" She wagged her finger at him, as she slid past him into the room. \"First name, please. After all, if you are the one I am most likely giving a headache to, then, you know we are going to be working very closely together. I have told you mine, now you tell me yours.\" He followed her into the room.

There were rows and rows of desks. Dust was lying in abundance, despite the students having just left. The classroom looked like it hadn\'t been used in decades. The windows at the top of the wall were grime-covered, filthy, allowing in little light.

\"This is your classroom?\" Somehow, she imagined him to be neater than this.

\"No. Mine is across the hall. This is your classroom.\"

\"Oh.\" She actually sounded...disappointed. \"My classroom is in the basement.\"

\"No.\" He continued to move purposely across the room. \"You classroom is in the dungeon. As are your quarters.\" He had waved his wand again and opened a rather cleverly hidden door.

\"Oh. How charming.\" Her tone stated that she meant anything but. She made a mental note to go into town at the first opportunity and buy cleaning supplies and bug spray. She hated spiders.

She despised spiders.

She looked up to see him standing in front of the open door. Waiting. She looked down at Amadeus. \"Who first? Me? Or you?\" The wolf sat his haunches looking rather non-plussed about the whole thing. His eyes clearly said, ‘After you.\'

And she stepped into joyous light.

***

Celeborn, Rumil, and Gandalf had joined Albus and the staff at the table. Plates had magically appeared and food rose from nowhere. Rumil was stuffing himself, as he had as a young Elfling. The staff peppered Celeborn and Gandalf with questions. Celeborn fielded them all, as Gandalf had his head buried next to Albus\' in silent conference.

\"Why is she here? What is she to Severus? Why is she so angry? What did she mean by \'holding her leash?\' \" The questions rolled in quickly, as water moving down a mountain stream over rocks, picking up momentum with each passing query.

\"Her life is in danger. With her husband, her protector and guardian dead, she is safest here. She deeply mourns Haldir and wishes to join him in death, but cannot. There is a dangerous task she must complete and the Gods have picked your Potions Master as the one best suited to help her with the undertaking. However, she does not wish his help and refuses to see how badly she needs it.\"

\"But, is this fair to Severus?\" Celeborn looked at the aging witch next to him. Minerva. Minerva McGonagall. \" After everything he has been through the past fifteen years. How much more is expected of him?\"

Even Gandalf had stopped to listen to that question. Only three knew the entire answer to that. All three sat at this very table. Even Bronwyn did not have all the answers.

The Valar never gave her all the answers when it came to her personal life. They, too, knew her stubbornness.

\"One does not question the Almighty, the Valar, the Gods, Minerva.\" Albus answered. The table fell silent.

\"If it is any...consolation, Severus Snape\'s heroism and dedication is highly regarded among the Elves. His efforts did not go unnoticed.\"

There was no sound for many minutes, except those of the sound of eating and drinking.

\"What can you tell me of her wolf, Amadeus? Of her?\" Celeborn looked across the table.

\"Remus Lupin, I believe?\" He nodded solemnly and Celeborn took in his appearance. He looked as if he had seen better days, as if he had been ill, but was recovering. His eyes were bright and sparkling. Celeborn was horrid at guessing the ages of men. The Elves were ageless, living as long as they either wanted or until killed in battle. He, himself was 50,000 years of age, as was his wife. Even the so-called young Elf next to him - Rumil was close to 41,000 years of age. On earth, Men lived to be seventy to ninety years of age. The New Wizards, however lived longer, two to three times longer. Therefore, he did not attempt to place an age on the wizard.

\"Amadeus was born right after Haldir\'s death and he immediately became hers. We believe he is what kept her alive during those first dark days. She named him after her husband\'s favorite composer - Amadeus Mozart - and they have become inseparable. Sometimes it is as if he understands every word one says. It is quite frightening.\"

\"As for her, herself. She is a natural teacher. She taught before she came to us and when Elflings began to arrive in greater and greater numbers in the Undying Lands, she was their teacher. She has a great love for children and a passion for passing on knowledge. We hope that by giving her a purpose, teaching your children to appreciate those that are different from them, that her grief will ease and she will be able to fulfill her purpose and live a happy, productive life, rather than sit in a room and pine for the dead.

\"She is a musician. She loves to sing, and play. She loves to dance. She loves to dig in the dirt and grow things. She loves fast rides and the wind in her hair. She adores theme parks and roller coasters and thrill rides. She loves to walk on the beach. She loves to have friends over and cook and talk and enjoy life. She has a wicked sense of humor. She has not enjoyed these things for some time and it is our, my deepest desire that she find happiness again.\" He looked sadly at Gandalf. \"It is painful to watch her waste away to nothing, mourning what will not be returned to her in this lifetime. She will need friends. She loves to talk, so she will especially need girlfriends and partners in crime.\" He looked around the table and saw that everyone, including Rumil, had finished their lunch. \"It has been over half an hour since they left. As the foundations have not cracked, I suppose it is safe to assume she has not killed him yet. We do need to speak with him to explain what she refuses to and make sure she is settled before catching the train back to London.\" He posed his last question to Dumbledore. \"Do you know where he has taken her?\"

\"The dungeons, I would suppose. That is where his and her quarters are. I suspect he has taken her there.\" Dumbledore had risen, along with the others who made their own way around and out.

\"The dungeons? The dungeons? You placed her in a dungeon?\" Rumil had spat pumpkin juice.

\"Ah, come my boy.\" Dumbledore handed him a napkin. \"It isn\'t as bad you make it to be. Please follow me.\" And with that, the stately wizard made his way out the door, his three guests following.

***

TBC

***

ada - daddy
adar - father
Lirimaer - Lovely one
Tithen aras - Little dear
Lembas - Elvish Waybread
Istari - Wizard of Middle Earth (Gandalf)
mithril - a metal mined only in Middle Earth. It is indestructible and the most costly metal ever found.
Mae Govannen - Well met. It is an Elvish greeting and farewell - sort of like \"aloha\"
First Born - The Elves
neithadol - you\'ll find out soon enough... LOL!
Undying Lands -The Elves home
\"Haldir, Heru en cormmin, lasto beth nîn, tolo dan nan galad.\" -
\"Haldir, Lord of my heart, hear my voice, come back to the light.\"
Baraer - Fiery One
Baraermin - My Fiery One
Valar - The Gods