Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Masked Child

At Azkaban

by ShadeDancer 1 review

Chapters 13 & 14

Category: Harry Potter - Rating: R - Genres: Action/Adventure, Crossover - Characters: Harry, Sirius - Warnings: [!] [?] - Published: 2007-03-10 - Updated: 2007-03-11 - 4243 words

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Man in the Iron Mask, LotR, or anything you might recognize from any of them in here.

"I still should be going," Faramir wasn't happy as he faced the trio standing near the White Tree, the sunlight dappling over them warmly despite the sorrow of the occasion, "I swore years ago that I would protect Eldarion with my life. It is my duty as Steward."

Eldarion smiled sadly at the man he considered an uncle, "forever will I be grateful for that pledge, but now you have a wife with a bairn on the way. Your duty is here."

Faramir's head seemed to droop ever so slightly and Eldarion walked over to embrace the man, "I need you to watch after my family for me while I cannot, especially Calanon and Vanya. Please, Uncle Faramir, extend to them the same pledge you once gave me. Now it is they who need your teaching."

Eldarion stepped back and Faramir nodded that he accepted the words spoken to him, but Eldarion could still see that his Uncle wasn't pleased about being left behind. Turning Eldarion awkwardly embraced his very pregnant Aunt Eowyn and whispered to the woman to watch over her husband. Giving him an embarrassing kiss on the cheek and secretly pleasing Eldarion in the process, Eowyn winked to say that she would keep things well in hand. That left only the twins and Adar to say good-bye to. Make that two crying twins to say farewell to.

"Hey, tithen-minea/," Eldarion knelt down in front of the twins, "do not cry. I won't be gone forever. I will come back, I always have before, and I'll bring you back something extra special this time." /(Little ones.)

"But this time is different," Calanon's hands were clenched into trembling fists as he struggled with his emotions, "I heard father talking! He doesn't want you to go to the bad place either."

Eldarion hugged Calanon tight, "I give you my promise, tithen muindor/, I will come back safely. Legolas and Uncle Gimli will see to that." (/Little brother.)

"But who will teach us more Elvish while you're gone?"

Eldarion switched his hug over to Vanya, who sniffled some more, and Eldarion glanced at their father from the corner of his eye.

"I bet you could get Adar to, or Uncles Elladan and Elrohir would love to."

"I'll do it!" Aragorn agreed hastily as he remembered some of the things the twins had taught Eldarion.

Eldarion smirked up at his father and gave the twins each a last hug, their tears starting up again as he stood to face Aragorn. For a long moment the two just stood there, as if measuring the other up, before moving forward to catch each other into firm hugs.

"Dartharna," Aragorn murmured, "stay safe and come back to me." (Stay safe.)

"Amin nauva, Adar," Eldarion was getting teary himself, "amin vesta." (I will, father, I promise.)

Reluctantly the two pulled away, and knowing that he couldn't tarry too much longer Eldarion turned and walked back towards the tree.

"Dartho!" Aragorn called Eldarion back suddenly, "I would give you a gift before you go." (Wait.)

Turning around once again, Eldarion was surprised to find that Aragorn had unbuckled his sword from about his waist and offered it out horizontally.

"Adar?" Eldarion was both surprised and confused as Aragorn walked towards him.

"Andúril, Flame of the West, forged from the shards of Narsil," Aragorn repeated the words Elrond had once said to him before adding his own epitaph, "long has this sword protected the freedom of the innocent, wielded by the hands of the Kings of Gondor. May it lead you home safely, my son, my heir."

Slowly Eldarion began to slip Andúril from its sheath, unconsciously imitating Aragorn's gesture from over two decades ago, then whipped it up sharply until he held the engraved blade vertically in front of his body. There in the early morning light the sword seemed to glow with power as Eldarion saluted Aragorn before sheathing the blade. Undoing the clasp that held his own blade on and passing it over to Aragorn for keeping, Eldarion belted Andúril's sheath about his waist. For a moment longer he stood there, an image of the splendor of the Kings of Gondor as he memorized every little detail about his family standing in the courtyard to send him off. Then Eldarion bent and shouldered his traveling pack before moving to finally stand between the patiently waiting Legolas and Gimli. Nodding that they were ready Legolas and Gimli each placed a hand upon one of Eldarion's shoulders as he reached for the tree, his last memory of the decaying courtyard of Azkaban fixed firmly in his mind. None of the three looked back at the others waiting to see them off as Eldarion's hand made contact with the tree when the sun fully broke across the horizon, but one final word floated back on the wind as the trio vanished into thin air.

"Namaarie." (Farewell)

"Quel fara amin utinu, melloneamin," Aragorn echoed the farewell even though those it was meant for were no longer there to hear. (Good hunting my son, my friends)

~~ ~~ ~*~

The power ripped through the three travelers as if to separate them, but Eldarion was not going to let his companions be lost to him and held on to them through sheer force of will. As with the first time he had made the trip through the trees power, light flowed around him, begging to be touched and explored. Eldarion would have loved more than anything to do just that, to go to any world but the one he was headed to, but the power had a firm hold of him and was tugging him unerringly where it wanted him to go. The light pulsed, and Eldarion tried to warn Legolas and Gimli only to discover that he had no voice, was nothing, he was becoming a part of the light and his friends were slipping away from him.

It was painful this time, the light scorching his being and Eldarion flung out a hand that was not really there as the light burst and sparked around him, warning him not to fight it anymore. And reluctantly Eldarion did just that, not wanting to condemn Legolas and Gimli to paying the price for his unwillingness to go back to his birth world. He told the light that he would go willingly where it lead if only his companions could come as well. Slowly the pain lessened, the light becoming much gentler as it accepted this deal and consumed the three of them. Then everything was fading into dreariness and Eldarion realized he did indeed have form again as pain flooded his limbs. The pain forced him to his knees at the roots of the White Tree in Azkaban's courtyard, his breath coming out in harsh pants as he was forced to get used to having a body once again, to not being incorporeal like the light.

"Melamin!" There was worry in Legolas' voice as he saw Eldarion fall to his knees, but Eldarion waved him off before he could kneel down to check on his mate and so he set his eyes to skimming the courtyard they were in just in time to see a dark mass leaping towards them. (My love.)

Sirius had cautiously slipped out through the doors after the last Dementor patrol had passed and found himself in an empty and dead-looking courtyard that he vaguely remembered from his arrival upon Azkaban. Mentally he cursed, unable to do so aloud in his animagus form; he had been hoping that the small door would have turned out to be a side entrance close to the beach, but it just wasn't to be his luck. Then Sirius cursed again as he realized that he wasn't alone in the courtyard as he realized that he wasn't as alone as he originally thought.

"Melamin!" Sirius heard someone call out worriedly, only his canine-enhanced hearing allowing him to pick up the exchange at all; it seemed this person was also trying to keep quiet for some reason or another, not that anyone was ever loud in Azkaban unless they were screaming in dementia. (My love!)

Not about to give up his chance at freedom, Sirius zeroed in on the other people in the courtyard and froze. He didn't look anything like expected, only the bare resemblance left to the picture of his twin in the paper, but Sirius knew those eyes he could see shining out from beneath the long hair. They were Lily's eyes, Harry's eyes, and despite the fact that he was no longer a carbon copy of James, Sirius would know his godson anywhere; it probably had something to do with the ritual that was commonly used to bond godparent and godchild. In his sudden joy, a thing Sirius could not remember having felt in ages, he didn't think and bound straight for his godson.

"Tira ten' rashwe!" The voice Sirius had heard earlier shouted out in that unfamiliar language again. (Look out!)

Instantly at the warning, two figures moved to block him from Harry, and his canine agility barely saved him from being sliced open by the sword and axe that each figure respectively held. Somehow Sirius managed to twist his gaunt canine body in midair so that his forward leap was halted and he fell to the ground with a painful thump, turning back into a human as he lost his tenuous hold over his animagus shift.

"Tampa!" The unfamiliar word flew softly through the night air again as Harry repeated the command that had originally checked the weapons from cleaving Sirius into bloody pieces. "Dartho Legolas, Gimli!" (Stop! Wait Legolas, Gimli!)

"Tampa!" Eldarion cried out a second time to keep Legolas and Gimli from advancing on the man that now lay at their feet, his first cry had barely kept them from drawing blood and he was glad his companions had excellent reflexes, "Dartho Legolas, Gimli!"

Slowly Eldarion climbed to his feet and moved to stand between Legolas and Gimli so that he could stare down at the man. He wasn't sure why he had told his friends to hold, but he had felt a connection to this dog-man despite his resolve not to find attachment to anything in this world. Then, unbidden, his mind flashed back to a faded memory of spending hours pouring over a photo album filled with pictures. His mother, father, and brother; their friends Remus, Sirius, Peter...Sirius-Padfoot! His godfather. This man was his godfather. Why hadn't he ever been there for him? If Sirius was his godfather why hadn't he been there to stop the Headmaster when he had him placed in the mask?! Eldarion felt anger start to course through him, building up white hot within his body, anger he had thought he had gotten rid of years ago when adar, naneth, and daer-adar had helped him work through his emotions as a child.

Eldarion tensed to do something, to say something accusatory to the man lying huddled at his feet when screeches echoed throughout Azkaban and the Dementors came gliding out into the courtyard to recover the prisoner they had suddenly discovered missing, Sirius' sudden influx of emotion drawing them unerringly to where his escape had been halted. Beside him, Eldarion could feel Legolas and Gimli holding themselves stiffly in check; despite their previous run-ins with the Nazgul of Middle-Earth neither of his companions had been completely prepared for the similar effects of the Dementors.

"He tried to escape," the Dementors circled Sirius, hissing their displeasure as Sirius curled up in a whimpering ball, "he has accomplices. We must summon the human tirhuanea/, summon the aurors." /(Watchdogs)

Vertigo swept through Eldarion as he experienced something similar to the chill Dementors inspired in humans, but this was different since Alara had given him immunity to the draining effect when she had named him a child of the Dementors. What Eldarion was experiencing was the overload of once again being part of a collective mind, the bond that was forged when he was a child bypassing all the mental shields he had so carefully cultivated under Galadriel's tutelage. It was overwhelming and Eldarion felt nauseous, something that hadn't happened when he had first become part of the collective mind, but then he had spent the past fourteen years living in a world where very few individuals had any sort of mental ability at all.

Because of this he had long since lapsed in keeping up the inner-mind shields that Alara had helped him cultivate when he had been a part of the Dementors collective mind, instead using a shield that encased his whole mind and was more effective at keeping Galadriel out-not that he had been able to do that very often, the Lady of Lothlorien was unparalleled in the area of mind magic. He was only glad that the Dementors were too focused on Sirius and his escape to realize that there was a new, yet familiar, presence in their collective mind-if they were all to suddenly turn their attention to him the vertigo would intensify and completely overwhelm him. He had to start rebuilding his shields before then. Thankfully, the bases of his original shields were still there and Alara's teaching came back to him easily, aided by the reconnection to the collective mind.

"There will always be a connection within your mind to us, little child," Eldarion remembered how patient had been as she had guided his awkward first attempts at mind shielding, "so it will do you no good to protect your whole mind, we are already inside it. Instead section your mind off and protect each room within your mind. It will be like a house we can wander through to speak with you and leave knowledge in, but we cannot pass through any doors you have locked without your consent."

Then the words reverberating through the minds of the Dementors swirling around in the courtyard changed, drawing Eldarion away from the flimsy shields he had just finished snapping up, "Wait! Taran comes, Taran shall know what to do. Taran comes."

Taran. The name reverberated through Eldarion and his eyes snapped to the door that led from the courtyard into Azkaban prison. Next to Alara and Milpy, Taran had been the one he had missed the most when he had first found himself in Middle-Earth. Taran was Alara's mate and had often spent a lot of time with him when Alara had been off dealing with prison business. Taran had been the one Dementor he would seek out when he didn't feel much like communicating, but wanted company anyhow.


The name slipped unbidden from both mind and lips as Eldarion watched Alara's mate glide towards the gathered group of Dementors hovering around Sirius. The connection in Taran's mind was instantaneous as all the Dementors' heads whipped up sharply beneath their hoods.

"Harry child?"

Eldarion leaned slightly sideways in his chair so that his arm brushed fleetingly against Legolas, taking comfort from the brief contact as he fought against the memories being in Azkaban once again dredged up. Though he could now admit to himself that his time in the depressing prison could have been worse if the Dementors hadn't accepted him, it had also been damaging to his child psyche. For an instant Eldarion experienced the feel of cold, harsh, magic-infused metal surrounding his face again in a suffocating hold and his hand jerked up to make sure it was still his own warm flesh beneath his hand. Comfortingly Legolas' arm came to rest around Eldarion's shoulders, letting him know that he wasn't alone. Meanwhile Alara and Taran, the rest of the Dementors had been sent back to their posts, were trying to decide what to do with their unconscious escaped prisoner even as they hovered over Eldarion.

"Harry child," Alara murmured yet again, "this is what Harry child looks like, but he has grown. Harry child, what happened to our Harry child?"

Quietly Eldarion began to tell them a little of what had happened in the fourteen years he had been gone, shocked to discover that it had only been seven years in this world, knowing that all the dementors would hear through the collective mind.

"I ended up in a different world somehow where I was found by a man named Aragorn. He tried to remove the mask about my face, but his attempts failed as had all others before it. Aragorn didn't give up though, he took me to Rivendell and the Elves where the mask was finally able to be removed-"

A stirring cry though the collective mind halted Eldarion from taking his story any further.

"Rivendell?" There was longing in Alara's question and Eldarion nodded.

"You have gazed upon Rivendell, walked the paths of Middle-Earth?" Taran pressed.

"Yes," Eldarion nodded, tensing as did his two companions; never had they mentioned anything about Middle-Earth. "Why? What do those names mean to you?"

The collective mind seemed to sigh and Taran glanced at Alara as if asking for permission. Eldarion knew he had missed something passing between the Dementors, but he had been away from the collective mind long enough that little nuances like this one passed by his perception. He did know when they came to a decision though, for Alara backed away from Taran to give him room to speak.

"You know, Ha-Eldarion," Taran corrected himself, "that we have not always been this way; you see our real selves where others cannot. What you do not know is that we were once children of Middle-Earth ourselves..."

Taran went on to tell them the secret of the dementors, how they had been corrupted from their original forms through necromancy. They had been Sauron's original version of the Nazgul, but they had been useless to him because they had been unable to use steel. And so he had banished them from Middle-Earth after he had devised the plan of the Rings. It was not a pretty story and the troubles of the Dementors had only gotten worse when a Dark Lord decided to bind their allegiance to him and use their soul-sucking effects against his enemies. The dementors had barely escaped extinction and had only survived by swearing their allegiance to the Ministry of Magic, chaining themselves to the Island of Azkaban as prison guards. It was a heart-wrenching story and talk quickly turned to what the three travelers would do when they left the Island of Azkaban so that they didn't have to dwell on the misfortune of the Dementors.

Legolas was the first one to notice that Eldarion wasn't paying full attention to the conversation, but was instead watching the prisoner.

"Harry," the prisoner moaned again, it was clear that he would be waking soon and Legolas wanted to know why the man called out his beloved's once-name.

"This human," Legolas asked, "who is he and what is he to Eldarion?"

"He is Sirius Black, a prisoner here for 14 years." Alara answered, "a murderer. We do not know what he is to Harry-child."

Eldarion finally looked away from Sirius Black and back at the others. "He is my godfather, and just like everyone else he betrayed me. He was never there when I needed him."

Sensing his love's distress, Legolas put a comforting arm around the young half-elf and whispered elvish into his ear.

"I didn't," the voice was hoarse, shocking them with its suddenness, "I would never-"

Sirius broke off into a fit of harsh coughing before raising his head to stare into Eldarion's eyes, "I swear that I never betrayed you or your parents Harry. I wasn't their secret keeper. Peter betrayed us and I've been in here ever since."

Listening to that voice husky from disuse slowly brought back a long buried memory for Eldarion. He had been bored and decided to sneak around through Azkaban, but then he had gotten lost and hadn't wanted to enter the collective mind to get directions in case he got into trouble for being somewhere he shouldn't. The corridor he had ended up in was full of screaming, raving lunatics that clawed away at their own skin when they weren't throwing themselves at the bars of their cells or huddled in weeping balls. Then there were the others who had gone silent, driven beyond the edge of sanity; one man's silence had been different though and Eldarion had stopped in the shadows outside the cell when the man had begun to talk, knowing that he was there.

"It was you," Eldarion's voice was soft, nearly choked, "you were the one I used to talk to. I had never seen your face."

"What?" Sirius was startled, not understanding what Eldarion was suddenly talking about.

"I used to come by your cell and you would tell me stories of pulling pranks at school, and of the godchildren you feared to never see again." Realization dawned on Eldarion, "You spoke of me. Then, does that mean the friends that you spoke of were-"

"Sweet Merlin," Sirius gasped in horror, "it wasn't a dream-the mask...How? Why were you in here? What the hell happened?"

Hesitantly Eldarion told Sirius how he had come to be in Azkaban, his face encased in the cold metal of the mask. He was afraid to trust Sirius, but if Sirius had truly been in here since his parent's death then he had a very good excuse for never being there when Eldarion had needed him. Legolas' arms around him reminded him that there were people in the universe that he could trust, that not everyone had or would betray him.

"I'll kill him," Sirius' voice was filled with rage, a canine-ish growl rumbling deep in his throat, "I'll rip the bastard limb from limb and give them a real reason to put me in here. I'll-"

"Enough!" Taran raised his voice in a way Eldarion could never remember him doing before. "Your anger will not help things, Sirius Black, and we must still decide what shall be done with you, but for now you shall wait while we help our Eldarion."

"Yes," Alara concurred, "we can no longer hide away our Harry-child now that he is free of the Sick-man's hold. Harry-child has grown and become Eldarion, capable of taking care of himself. Eldarion must leave Azkaban."

"And just where shall we go?" Gimli asked gruffly, "We know nothing about this Aulë-forsaken world beyond what little Eldarion could tell us, and that's not much." (Aulë the Smith was the creator of the Dwarves.)

"We do not know," Alara sighed, "but we shall do everything we can to help our Eldarion."

Sirius thought quickly, praying, "Let me go with them. I have a place they can stay. Please; I failed Harry once by letting myself get tricked and ending up here, but I swear upon Merlin's grave that I will not fail him again."

~~ ~~ ~*~

Sirius paced in agony despite his trembling legs. The moment he had asked to go with Harry the Dementors had burst into screeches that had echoed from all over Azkaban. Even Alara had been whipped into a frenzy until Taran had said something in a deep voice, the language unfamiliar. Things had settled down quickly then, but he had been taken into a different room while the others fell into conference. He knew the fact that they were considering his proposition was cause for some hope, but he still couldn't help but fret.

Pretty soon Sirius had lost count of how many times he had paced the small length of the windowless room, his emotions running rampant through him. His chaotic emotions did have one good side-effect though by not allowing the near-by Dementors to leech from him because he fluctuated between hope and despair too quickly for either to truly gain a hold. Sirius wasn't sure how much time had passed, but by the time the door opened to reveal a hooded Dementor on the other side he was near ready to go crazy and a pit of ice formed in his stomach.

"You must move quickly," the chilling voice belonged to the Dementor Sirius had heard be called Taran, somehow distinctive despite the fact that all the Dementor's spoke with the same rasp whenever they resorted to words instead of screeches or hisses, "we are not happy, but this is the only way. Should we find you fail in protecting Eldarion, I shall personally see your soul writhing in eternal torment as I suck it out bit by bit so that you feel every second of your life slipping from your body."

Sirius paid no heed to Taran's warning at the last as hope crashed into him. He would get a chance to spend time with Harry, to make up for all those lost years. He would protect his godson and help free his other godson, Harlan, from Dumbledore's influence-too late did Sirius remember why no one in Azkaban had any hope as a freezing chill seized his body. He tried to battle it, tried to hang onto the one thought that had gotten him through all the long years of imprisonment, but it was too late as his weak body succumbed and he was pulled forcefully into the despairing darkness.
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