Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me.
Summary: A series of drabbles on how Aragorn finds his equal in the cantankerous Green Wizard. Warning! MPREG!
Harry stared at Gandalf, a look of incredulity on his face. The grip he had on his door handle tightened when the Grey Pilgrim merely gave him a cordial smile and a greeting too cheerful for a morning this early.
"Harry, good to see you well," the grey-clad wizard said. Taking off his hat, he tried to worm his way into the hut that the other wizard called home but was thwarted by the irate owner.
"What are you doing here, Gandalf!? I told you I don't want to get involve in another war. I don't care what the Valar said, I'm just going to mind my own business from now on," Harry said, attempting to block the access to his home with his lithe body and tried to slam the door close at the same time.
Unfortunately, Gandalf was not only taller, he was also larger in built and much much more craftier. Harry cursed his height, then the Dursleys for starving him when he was younger thus causing his diminutive stature and lastly, he cursed Gandalf for being so much older and sneakier.
"What do you want, Gandalf?" he asked, panting after the brief and almost comical struggle over the door with his 'brethren'.
The older wizard was now settling himself comfortably in Harry's favourite armchair, cooing to Fawkes who was perched beside him. The phoenix trilled back in affection, sending a calming feeling through the house. Hedwig, who had been dozing up in the eaves awoke with a soft hoot. She set her beady eyes on Gandalf and flew down to nudge the wise istar warmly.
Harry, whom by now was immune to Fawkes' song and thus, still annoyed at having lost to the elderly wizard, glared at his familiars and muttered an annoyed: "Traitors."
"Now, now, Harry, don't take your frustration out on your friends," Gandalf said in amusement as he patted the white owl.
"You're right. I should take it out on you instead," Harry sniped back, "Since you're not under that category."
"Ah, Harry, you wound me so," Gandalf answered back with a smile, putting his hand on his chest in mock hurt. Harry rolled his eyes though a minute twitch on his lips betrayed his enjoyment at their customary banter.
"I don't think I would ever succeed in that impossible task considering your thick hide, Gandalf," Harry often gave back as much as he received.
Their erratic relationship begun when Harry first arrived in this world: bewildered and frightened by the sudden change in scenery. The last thing he remembered was being at the final battle where he finally succeeded in killing Voldemort before Bellatrix screamed and a green light engulfed him again. He had been found by Gandalf who explained to him the reason for his presence in Middle Earth was to help in the War that would soon erupt again once the One Ring emerges.
At first, Harry had accepted his explanations, his teachings and his opinions without questions. But then, when he realized he didn't have to take all this shit all over again, he begin to rebel. Of course, much to his annoyance, Gandalf had taken it all at stride, calling him a juvenile and ignoring his protests. It was at that point in time that the two begin to change the dynamic of their relationship from teacher-student to friends-equals.
In a way, Harry was glad that he had done what he had or he would have continued following Gandalf like a puppy dog and not gain independence of his own. But he was also glad that Gandalf had so much patience with him, teaching him when he was vulnerable, becoming a friend when he needed it and accepting his need to become his own individual.
"I only have hot water for you," Harry said crankily, waving his holly wand at the kettle. It began to whistle immediately.
"Oh, Harry. Your hospitality astounds me," Gandalf said with no venom.
"Of course, only the best for my beloved friend," Harry said sarcastically, settling a pot of tea and a plate of cake in front of his old friend.
Gandalf snickered and helped himself to the honey cake. Harry makes the best cakes ever! Idly, he wondered if he should harass Harry for another one to bring to his hobbit friend, Bilbo. Ah, he had not seen his little friend for quite some time.
"So," Harry broke the Grey Wizard's wandering thoughts.
"So?" Gandalf prompted.
"So, what do you want?" Harry said, abandoning all play.
"Oh, Harry," Gandalf said, still smiling happily as he ate his cake, "I just wanted to visit."
Harry raised a skeptical eyebrow.
"And invite you to Rivendell, that's all," Gandalf said, almost too innocently. Harry narrowed his eyes at the shrewd wizard.
"What's the catch?" he asked suspiciously.
"Uh…Fish?" Gandalf replied confusedly making the 25-year-old wizard roll his eyes. He kept forgetting to stop using modern lingos in Middle Earth.
"No. Why do you want me to go to Rivendell with you?" Harry said with a twitch of annoyance.
"Just to visit," Gandalf said with a smile, "After all, you have never been to an elven settlement before."
Harry kept silent for a while, still chary. But then, curiosity won and he nodded.
"Fine. I'll go with you."
"Oh, good! Good!" Gandalf cheered, with a twinkle in the eyes that made Harry want to lift his teacup and throw it at the elder wizard in an attempt to exorcise Albus' spirit out of the Grey Wizard. He didn't, but he had a funny feeling that he might regret agreeing to this trip.
When Aragorn was first introduced to the Green Wizard by Gandalf, he did something totally uncharacteristic of him: he gaped. Granted, from what he knew of Istari, they were wise, patient immortals with the appearances of old men. Not petite androgynous young men with full lips just begging to be kissed.
The Green Wizard glared at him with amazing green eyes, as if knowing his every thought.
"Are you really the Green Wizard?" he couldn't stop himself from asking. The strength of the glare doubled and if looks could really kill, Aragorn would be 6 feet under by now.
"Are you really the Heir to the throne of Gondor?" the annoyed wizard sniped back, "Seriously, you'd think that the Valar would chose someone with a little more brains."
"Harry," Gandalf warned even as Elrond and the other elves stared at the wizard, half for his appearance and half for his words.
"Oh cork it, Gandalf," Harry said, suddenly snapping out of his irritated glare, "I doubt that a Ranger would be so sensitive to a bit of sarcasm. I'm sure he's faced worst before."
The last few words were delivered with a small smirk that belied the amusement in his mesmerizing green eyes. It occurred to Aragorn then that the wizard wasn't deliberately being offensive to him but merely attempting to tease both the Ranger and Gandalf. An answering smile stretched across his mouth before he realized it.
"Indeed. Though by far, I have never before been told off in my face by someone as beautiful as you," he said, watching in delight as the wizard blushed prettily. For all his 38 years of life, he had never seen anyone blush so attractively. He might just understand why Gandalf continued to hassle the petite wizard despite his sharp wit and sharper tongue.
"Oh, you sweet talker, I bet you say that to all the dames and elleths." Blushing or not, Harry did not back down from a verbal battle. Ever.
"Only to one that blushes so prettily," came the reply, making Harry cursed his pale complexion as his face heated up again.
Gandalf and Elrond watched with amusement as the two youths continued to bicker good naturedly with each other, both unwilling to back down. Though some would actually call their bickering flirting.
"How," Elrond said softly, just enough for Gandalf to catch it, "interesting."
"Isn't he?" Gandalf said almost gleefully, "He's the most interesting wizard by far."
"Yes, including you," Harry suddenly shot, shifting his attention away from a disappointed Ranger, "Don't talk behind my back, Gandalf."
Gandalf laughed, denying any backstabbing as his little 'brother' glared at him suspiciously. Meanwhile, Elrond was watching his adopted son quietly, taking note of the way Estel's eyes never once shifted away from the green-eyed wizard and the small smile that lingered on his lips as he watched the wizards cross words instead of swords.
"How interesting, indeed."
Neither of them expected to fall in love. When they first met, they had both felt a sense of kinship, an deep understanding that neither did anything to deny.
Before they knew it, months has passed, with Harry constantly found in company of Aragorn. Once the Ranger got use to his sardonic disposition, the Man could match him word per word, much to Harry's delight. He was a much more than better companion that a lot of others that Harry had the misfortune to meet. It wasn't to say that the occupants of Imladris were horrid to him. But for Harry, the elves were too polite, too graceful, too in awe of him for him to be comfortable in their presence. Gandalf was constantly busy with Elrond, doing whatever he was always doing. Harry seriously did not want to know.
Naturally, Harry would seek the one person that did not make him feel like cursing people just to relieve his frustration: for the good of his psyche and the inhabitants of Rivendell, of course.
However, the Ranger would often leave for Orc Hunts, which Harry refuses to join because he is sick of killing. Though, he had a funny suspicion that Gandalf might still be harboring thoughts and hopes that he might join the war. Hah! As if!
Harry was suddenly jolted out of his thoughts when he caught a flurry of activities down beneath the balcony where he stood. He caught sight of Elrond's twins and two Rangers carrying Aragorn down from a horse and felt his breath lodge in his throat. In a twirl of emerald robes, he apparated to the wounded Ranger's side, ignoring the startled responses of those present.
The young Man blinked, trying to clear the black spots in his vision, turning his head towards the emerald-eyed wizard who had called his name.
"Harry," he rasped, lifting his hand instinctively. A pair of small, soft hands grasped it immediately.
"What happened?" Harry demanded, lifting his head up to look at Elladan.
"We were ambushed," the elf explained quickly as they moved towards the Hall of Healing. "He was hit in the arm by a poisoned arrow."
"Where? Show me," Harry said before calling up to the sky. "FAWKES!" He didn't really need to call his familiar aloud but in his panic; Harry had forgotten that they had a telepathic link.
The soothing of the phoenix filled the hall soon enough as Harry tore Aragorn's sleeve open to reveal the oozing black wound. Elrohir opened his mouth to protest the wizard's intervention but was stopped when a hand fell on his shoulder. The twins turned to see Gandalf holding a finger up to his lips, while their father watched silently behind the Grey Pilgrim.
"Fawkes, please," Harry pleaded the phoenix perched at the head of the bed where Aragorn lay. The fiery bird gazed sadly at the wounded Heir of Gondor before bowing its head and began to cry.
To the elves and Rangers amazement, the moment the phoenix's shed tears touched the wound, the gash begin to lighten to a bright red and knit close on its own accord.
"What sorcery is this?" asked one of the awed Rangers.
"Amazing, there is nothing left of the wound," Elrohir whispered.
Aragorn blinked as the room came into focus and verdant eyes bright with tears filled his vision.
"Harry," he breathed, moving his free hand to touch the wizard's smooth cheek. His other hand was still in the green-eyed istar's grasped.
"Hey," Harry said gently, "Welcome home."
Aragorn hummed his eyes still on the young wizard's face, completely unaware of the others present. Then he pulled the wizard to him and laid a sweet kiss on the irresistible lips he could never take his eyes off of.
"Always wanted to do that," he whispered groggily to the wide-eyed wizard, "At least, in a dream, Harry won't kill me."
With that, he fell into an exhausted sleep, leaving 1 shocked wizard, 1 ecstatic wizard, 2 confused Rangers and 3 very amused elves to stare at his prone form.
Aragorn could not stop the amused smile that broke out on his lips as he watched the elves from Mirkwood go bug-eyed as the two istari argued.
"I swear, Gandalf, you're getting more senile as days go by," Harry said snidely, "You told me to come here three months ago."
"Yes, three months ago," Gandalf sniped back, "This is three months late."
"Well, excuse me for not growing wings and flying here at your beck and call," Harry snapped.
"That, is the Green Wizard?" Legolas asked in disbelief, unable to take his eyes away from the petite wizard.
"Aye," Aragorn confirmed with a nod, watching his friend's reaction to the beautiful but volatile wizard. It had taken him months to realize that the dark-haired beauty's irritable disposition was but a defensive front against unwanted attention. Valar knows the istar could garner attention just by standing silent in one corner, whether intentionally or not.
Even Aragorn was not immune to his magnetism so he couldn't fault others for looking at the wizard but that did not stop the twinge of jealousy he felt when he witness the spark of interest in Legolas' eyes upon settling on the smaller being.
The ranger was snapped out of his thoughts when a small body barreled into him and soft lips attached to his. After a moment, he wrapped his arms around his lover's small waist and lifted the smiling wizard up to gaze into his impish face.
"Did you miss me?"
"It is a gift," Boromir said with a note of reverence colouring his voice. "A gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this Ring?"
"Are you stupid?"
Aragorn blinked and closed his eyes in horror, resisting the urge to smack his palm onto his forehead in exasperation.
As such, Gandalf was staring in dismay at the wizard whom now had everyone's attention. Aragorn looked up and paused, taking in his lover's pallid colour and dark frown.
"The darkness that seeps from that thing," Harry hissed, "is enough to drown someone, much less a mortal like you. You'll be so overwhelmed by its manipulation that you'll be nothing but a puppet to it."
Boromir's face was now a lovely puce, so great was his rage. But he was startled speechless when the dark-haired wizard suddenly turned to him with his piercing green gaze. Aragorn was alarmed to see his eyes glowing brightly, brimming with magic. Evidently, his lover was very angry or very disturbed.
"You know not the makings of a Dark Lord's mind," Harry said, his voice barely a whisper but all in hall could hear him as clear as the day, "He would not let you use his powers against him. And the Ring would do anything to return back to its master."
His radiant eyes were so mesmerizing that none present could take their eyes off him.
"Even if it had to seduce a half wit like you, but it will call no other its Master," Harry continued. "The darkness-," he halted in his words and turned away, a hand to his mouth as if he was about to heave. "It makes me sick."
The way he said made several of the elves shoot apprehensive looks at the ring sitting so innocently on the podium, gleaming prettily.
"Harry, that's enough," Gandalf said, half in displeasure and half in concern. The Green Wizard's colour now resembled his namesake. The dark-haired istar just waved his free hand dismissively, still looking slightly ill in Aragorn's eyes.
After a moment, when their eyes finally met, Aragorn felt a longing to reach out for the petite wizard, to sooth his discomfort away. As if knowing his thoughts, Harry removed the hand he had on his mouth and smiled gently at the Ranger. Then, he mouthed: "I love you."
Harry was beautiful, with an elvish diadem across his forehead and his dark hair glittering with crystal beads, clad in a peacock green robes that highlighted his bright eyes.
Nay, Aragorn corrected himself; Harry was beautiful even without the beautiful robes and crown.
Harry blinked and turned to look at him in curiosity. He smiled at his istar, his hand tightening around the small fingers in his. The green-eyed smiled back and mouthed: "Pay Attention!"
Aragorn turned back to Gandalf who was watching them with amusement. When the ceremony finally finished, the new King immediately turned to his Consort and without a word, kissed his new husband as everyone clapped and celebrated the bonding of their monarchs.
King Elessar was pacing the hallway while both Faramir and Legolas watched him go to and fro in anxiety.
"My Liege, mayhaps it is better if you calm down," Faramir said soothingly. Aragorn whirled around to say something but was interrupted as a scream resounded from the room they were standing guard in front of.
"Gandalf! You PIG! I thought you gave me painkillers! IT HURTS!!"
"I doubt Aragorn can calm down," Legolas said after a moment of awkward silence.
"No, no. Not now," Aragorn said, glancing almost nervously at the closed door.
The three of them jumped when said door suddenly rattled alarming. Then, another scream rang across the hallway.
"Maybe I should go inside," the Gondorian King said fretfully.
"With all due respect, My King, but I don't think that would be such a good idea," Faramir said, staring at the now still door warily.
"I agree with Lord Faramir," Legolas said, turning to look at his friend. Then he patted his hand on the ex-Ranger's shoulder soothingly, though his words were anything but, "You would not survive Harry's wrath should you set foot inside."
Aragorn nodded, eyes not moving from the door.
Another scream later, the uneasy silence was broken by the crying of a newborn.
Unable to wait any longer, the anxious father quickly went into the room, followed by his two more cautious friends.
Lying on the bed, sweaty and pale but beautiful, was Harry who was smiling tiredly at his husband. Aragorn gathered the smaller man into his arms and kissed the damp forehead lovingly.
"My love," he whispered in relief. Harry snuggled gratefully into his arms with no signs of the fury he displayed just minutes ago. Eowyn approached the two of them moments later with a small wriggling bundle.
"Your firstborn, My lord," the pale woman said, carefully laying the baby onto her King's arms. "A son."
"Have you decided on the name yet?" Harry asked, playing with the infant's little fingers. The baby had his sire's features and colouring but Harry's eyes though a shade darker. Harry was sure that his little prince would grow up to be a heartbreaker.
"Eldarion," Harry tested the name then nodded. "That's a beautiful name."
Aragorn smiled at his husband.
"And what are you going to call our daughter?"
The ex-Ranger blinked.
"Yes," Harry replied, "Your second born. "
"And here she is," Gandalf said, bringing another bundle, which Harry accepted carefully. The baby opened bright green eyes and cooed at her parents. On her head, a tuft of fine red hair could be seen gracing her crown.
"Arwen?" Aragorn said uncertainly.
"No way," Harry said immediately, "If you don't mind. I want to name her Indilwen, for Lily. Indi, for short."
"Very well. Eldarion and Indilwen it is."
AN: I have a soft spot for two types of Harry: gentle, tired, war-worn Harry and sarcastic, witty, pretty Harry. (Actually, I like them both pretty ;o)
It's up to U to decide whether Gandalf's crafty plan to get Harry involved in the war actually succeeded ^__~V
This is dedicated to my 300th reviewer, Utena-Puchiko-Nyu ^____^ as well as my loyal reviewer, KounetsuDeb-chan for being such sweethearts! I hope you enjoyed this.