Disclaimer: Still not mine

Chapter 19

With the enemy broken and fleeing they moved to tend the wounded and gather the dead. They all stayed clear of the broken elf clutching his lovers body close, leaving his companions to handle it. Gandalf was gone, he had flown with the Eagles to Mount Doom, searching for Frodo and Sam. Finally Aragorn crouched beside Legolas, a hand resting gently on his shoulder. "He is gone my friend, we will carry him to Gondor and bury him with honour, that is all we can do," he spoke softly and gently. He had known Legolas since he was a young man and he had never seen the Prince like this. It worried him, elves could fade from great enough heart break or they could sail west. He did bit want to loose him to either fate. Gimli approached, leading a horse with a bier attached. The rough wood had been covered with a cloak. "Leolas?" Aragorn pushed and the elf stood, stumbling, but Harry did not weigh a lot. He lowered the too still body onto the cloak, kissed blood flecked lips one last time and then wrapped the edges of the cloak around him before Gimli tied him to the bier. The rest of the dead were gathered up and buried there, they didn't have the means to take them all home for burial. Shields and tokens were collected to give to grieving families. What remained of he Company plus King Éomer rode for Gondor, Legolas riding lone beside the bier.

Waiting at the still under repair gates were Faramir and Éowyn. As soon as she saw her brother she ran to him and Éomer quickly dismounted, embracing her despite his exhaustion and filthy armour. She then realised their was no celebration among them and looked around. "What is wrong? Did you not win? We saw the fires go out from here."

"Not without cost sister," he kept her at his side and she stared in horror as the bier was unhitched.

"Who…" but no answer was necessary as she saw the look of desolation on the otherworldly face. There were two missing from their number, but that body was too small for Gandalf. Soldiers quickly moved to take up the bier and carry it into the city.

"I am glad to see you all," Faramir greeted them gravely. He had not known the younger wizard well but his death would grieve his brother deeply. Borodin had spoken with him of their journey, without Hadrian the Black, Boromir would have died. "Hot water and a meal have been readied for all of you."

"Thank you Faramir, Gandalf went with the Eagles to collect the two missing hobbits, they should arrive soon."

"I will warn the lookouts not to fire then."


"Do you know the funerary rights of his people my Lord?"

Legolas blinked at the question and looked over at the elderly woman who had been working to clean and dress Harry's body. "No…we should have, we knew the risks," he whispered.

"Then shall he be buried as one of ours or would you prefer Elven custom?" She pressed.

Legolas reached out and gently began braiding Harry's hair in the same fashion as his own, he was a warrior too after all. "He was consort to an Elven Prince, he shall be treated as such."

"Very good my Prince, we shall do as you order." She withdrew to allow him some privacy. They had all noticed something odd, the body had yet to decay as a mans would. Perhaps Wizards remained the same in life and death?

Legolas finished the braids and brushed his fingers over a cold, pale cheek. "Im shall mel cin an uir," he whispered before leaving to speak with the seamstress and then a jewellery maker. The clothing did not take very long, a silvery green tunic which he then stitched protective patterns onto and a pair of simple black trousers to fit his title. While everyone else was busy with preparations for Aragorn's coronation he worked to ensure Harry would be buried properly.

"He looks to be merely asleep," Boromir admitted as he stood in the doorway. Legolas looked up as the mostly healed man walked into the room, a pillow in his hands. "I offered to bring this." He lowered the pillow to reveal the silver circlet resting on it. Legolas nodded and lifted it, gently settling it on Harry's head. Now he truly looked like an Elven Prince-Consort. He picked up Harry's sword and wrapped cold hands around the hilt. "Preparations are ready when you are."

"It is time." Legolas forced himself to move away. Boromir quickly summoned a page to gather the Fellowship. They gently carried the body from the city, closer to the river where a small hill had been prepared. Hadrian the Black, Prince-Consort of Prince Legolas of Mirkwood, was laid to rest beneath the hill, a stone placed to mark the grave. Frodo leaned heavily on Sam and Merry, he had only woken that morning. It was impossible to believe and yet before the hobbits eyes Hadrian's body was laid to rest. Aragorn's voice slowly rose in elven song even as Legolas knelt beside the hill, tears falling silently. For now they would grieve their fallen companion but in three days Aragorn would be crowned King.


Legolas managed a small smile for the new King Elessar Telcontar as the man approached him. With the arrival of those hidden behind him had come fresh clothes and so he was dressed as a Prince of Mirkwood again for the Coronation. He reached out to clasp his friends shoulder and then smirked slightly before stepping aside to reveal Arwen, carrying the King's new standard. He slipped into the crowd as the two kissed, feeling a stab of pain. He could feel Elrond's gaze on him but he ignored the older elf Lord. He slipped away from the celebration and out of the city.


He was choking for air, his whole body spasming as he struggled. Dim voices reached him, their words meaningless as he fought to breathe. Where was he? Where was Legolas? Darkness claimed him once more.

When he finally woke he found a vaulted, vaguely familiar, ceiling above him. He frowned, what had happened? Had Aragorn and Gandalf somehow managed to stabilise him long enough to return to the city?

"About time you woke up. You gave everyone quite the scare Mister Potter." A female voice called and his eyes went wide as the once familiar form of Madam Pomfrey appeared.

Had it all been a dream? He lifted his hand to see a familiar ring on his finger…and the small scar he'd gained trying to teach merry to fight. It had to have been real for the scar to be there. He shifted his head and frowned, it felt odd, he moved his hand to find his hair down to his shoulders, small braids in it and…a silver circlet.

"I suspect there's a story to those suddenly appearing yesterday. Gave everyone quite the surprise."

"H…ow…Lo…g…" he coughed and water was held to hills lips.

"You've been out for a month, we were all very worried about you." She put the water aside. "The war is over, in case you were worried. You killed Him before collapsing. The Death Eater trials are ongoing. Kingsley is acting-Minister."

Harry nodded, unable to really absorb it. What had happened and why? He wanted Legolas, they had too little time together. Had he been the only casualty from the Fellowship? He knew the magic on Frodo had shattered, had the hobbit died? He didn't notice when the healer left him alone, lost in his thoughts until he drifted off to sleep.

When he woke again it was to find a head of brushy hair on his chest an =d he blinked, "Hermione?" At least his voice sounded better.

She stirred and sat up, blinking sleepily until she realised he was awake. "Harry!" And then he was being smothered in a Hermione-hug.

"Oi! He needs to breathe," Ron broke in and she pulled back, letting Harry breath. "Good to have you back mate." Ron grinned and Harry managed a small smile.


"They were saying you might not wake up at all, there was talk of moving you to a permanent ward at St Mungo's soon," Hermione whispered.

"I'm okay now," he lied, wanting to cheer her up. He wasn't okay, he'd never be okay again. He couldn't tell them, they wouldn't understand his need to go back to his elf.


Harry stared at his reflection, it had been a long time since he'd paid attention to a mirror. His hair was still long, decorated with elven braids that he hadn't been wearing in the battle. He lifted the circlet and set it on his head, the design was distinctly elven…was this how Legolas had dressed him for burial? The sword of Gryffindor had been beneath his bed, apparently no one had been able to remove it from the private room in the infirmary. Since he'd woken he'd been inundated with well wishers and gifts and it was driving him mad. Hedwig had appeared on the second day and hands let him out of her sight since, not that he minded, she was good at chasing people off. Popped wanted to keep him longer but physically he was fine. Mentally? He was a mess but he refused to stay or talk about it.

He took off the circlet and dressed in his old school robes. How had he been gone for years and yet here he was still seventeen and wouldn't be eighteen for another few months? He'd aged in that month but it didn't really matter considering the longer lives of magicals. The main question he had was would he spend time in a coma and a new world every time he took a mortal wound?


I used an online translator for the sindarin Legolas uses, it meant i will love you forever