Master Of Death

Chapter 10

Harry POV

I woke up with a small gasp, a cloud of confusion settling around my shoulders like a heavy blanket. At first, I couldn't remember what had happened - I thought I was still safely at Hogwarts, chatting with Ron and Hermione and planning what we would do that summer. Then everything rushed back like a tidal wave, a mass of information flooded my mind within the span of a few seconds, my shoulders slumping in resignation. I took in my surroundings, wondering where we were. It was beautiful with the ancient trees and soft blue lights surrounding us. Elves were wandering about, walking up and down incredible flights of spiraling staircases which wrapped themselves around each tree. I sighed, looking down at the bandage that was wrapped around my chest, and began to remove it bit by bit. A noise to my right made me pause, suddenly aware of the rest of the Fellowship haphazardly placed in the small area and asleep.

"Harry? What are you doing?"

It's Legolas, his voice was tender as he spoke, though I'm only focused on how close he is to me - he's only a hair's breadth away from our thighs touching, his grey eyes holding happiness and concern.

"You shouldn't be removing that, it hasn't healed enough."

He takes my hand in his own, squeezing gently, but not releasing it. I don't pull away, letting my other hand fall to my lap uselessly.

"It is, though I'm not sure what helped Death's efforts to heal my wounds take hold again. These bandages aren't really needed now. Actually, I feel like it never even happened," I say, my voice is barely above a whisper.

I'm afraid of waking someone else up. Legolas nods and lets go of my hand, the loss of warmth oddly saddening. I continue to take the bandages off, slowly revealing unblemished skin, it shows no hint of there ever being a scratch let alone the wound that would have killed anyone else.

"See? Gone," I smile. "As healthy as a horse." I grin at the Elf beside me, who mirrors it with his own as I'm enveloped in a tight hug. I pause, not expecting this reaction, then slowly wrap my arms around him in return.

'This is nice... really really nice.'

"I have wanted to do this since you woke up in the river, but did not want to hurt you," Legolas muttered. His grip tightening momentarily before he lets go and puts distance between us once again.

"It's okay, I don't plan on being injured like that again anytime soon," I chuckled. We are both quiet after that, though the silence isn't uncomfortable.

We spend the next few days resting and mourning, everyone somewhat surprised by my sudden healing, having expected the injury to still be there, or at the very least leave a scar behind. It's during the night of the third day that I overhear a conversation I probably shouldn't have listened to.

"Why is everyone so welcoming of Harry?" Boromir questions, honestly curious.

"Why wouldn't we?" Legolas asks, confused.

"Isn't his timing and abilities at such a young age suspicious? He arrived just in time to come with us on the journey to Mordor," Boromir explains.

"Even if he had, he couldn't have known the Fellowship was going to be formed," Aragorn explains.

"Yeah, plus Mr. Harry has helped us a lot! If he were evil he wouldn't do that," Sam added. All four Hobbits nodding along, in agreement with the statement.

"It's still suspicious, he is likely a spy for Saruman, and just tricking us into a false sense of security," Boromir insists.

"If that was his plan, don't you think he would have finished the job a little sooner than this?" Legolas questions.