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Shadows of the Past	By : LadyLaran Category: Harry Potter Crossovers > Het - Male/Female Views: 12317 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Disclaimer – We do not own “Harry Potter,” “the Silmarillion,” and “the Hobbit.” We don't make any money for this story.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
Authors Note – We have a long chapter for everyone to enjoy! Thank you all for being so patient with us and for your kind reviews. It’s a pleasure to have such amazing readers!

Disclaimer – We do not own “Harry Potter,” “The Silmarillion,” or “The Hobbit.” We do not make money from this story.

Chapter Fourteen - Family

After dinner and having a long talk with Elrond where his former foster-son had lamented the regret that he had not come to Imladris much earlier, Maglor remained in his chambers. The years had not been kind to him after the events in the First Age, and he knew in his heart that he was dying. He had tried to live on in memory of his lost nephew, but he had learned long ago that it was a lost case. His body was finally giving up, and the call from the Halls of Mandos grew stronger every day. If only he’d had a chance to tell Celebrimbor just how much he regretted the events that had caused him to push his dear nephew away.

Maglor had been overjoyed to find that his nephew had been reborn. However, the child wanted nothing to do with him and he told the son of his heart not to push her on it. Hari, as his blood was now called, would hopefully accept things in time. Elves were slow to change, and Celebrimbor had not had the benefit of time under Nienna’s care to heal the damage done to him by family and foe.

The elf looked out of the window, sending a silent prayer to the Valar for his nephew, now reborn as a mortal niece. He wanted her to find happiness and healing, which she greatly deserved. Of all the members of their line, she was the one who would redeem the honor of their house because her light shone bright and strong. Maglor knew she would do what was right for those around her rather than herself, and he hoped that her kind heart would be repaid with love.

“I pray that her new life will not be haunted by the Oath or Sauron. It was difficult enough back in the First and Second Age for Celebrimbor so it would gladden my heart if she were to be spared from it,” he whispered in the ancient tongue of his people.

Maglor looked down on his hands, staring at the heavy burn scars left on his palms and fingers by the Silmaril. He was tired, so horribly tired, but he would not give up until Mandos called him to his halls. There was a conversation that needed to be had, and he would not add to his blood’s burdens by dying before that conversation could be held.

He sighed, heading to his bed. His rest had not been easy over the millennia, and he hoped that the tranquil atmosphere of Imladris would aid in at least a few hours of good sleep.

As the troubled elf rested, Thorin Oakenshield stared out into the darkness with his company chattering behind him. He was uneasy about having to remain in the home of the elves, and his eldest sister-son’s familiarity with the girl concerned him.

“Thorin?”

The soft voice drew him out of this thoughts, and he found Acacia standing beside him. She looked worried, and he knew he was the reason for her concern.

“I’ll be all right, Acacia,” he assured her. “There are a lot of thoughts weighing heavily on my mind, and it is difficult to sort them out.”

“Sometimes having a listening ear can help, even if the listener has no advice to give,” the hobbit assured her husband.

He smiled, walking her down the walkway for a few moments to where the bench was. This way they were near where the company had set up their camp but far enough for privacy to talk.

“Truth is, I’m unnerved being here,” he began after they sat down. “I have no love of elves; we were not given aid at any time from any of the elvish kingdoms. Your people have done more for us since we moved to the Blue Mountains than anyone else has, including Dain. The idea of having to stay here and later show Elrond the map irritates me to no end.”

“Think of it this way,” Acacia suggested. “We helped an elf where none of their kind helped your people, proving that dwarrow are the better ones for laying aside the feud to aid one in need. As for the map, as impolite as it is, just think of it as using a resource and not asking for a favor.”

“I will try,” Thorin said, knowing she spoke sense. “It will not be easy since I have disliked elves after Thranduil’s betrayal.”

“Eru will punish him for that one,” she commented. “He set rules down for His firstborn, and the idiot broke them. That won’t be taken well at all.”

“Here’s hoping it’s in my lifetime,” he said, knowing it was wrong to want that but was too full of anger towards the elf to really care about it.

“It will happen when Eru wills it,” the hobbit told him. “What else is preying on your mind?”

“The girl Fili was chatting with during dinner,” the king-in-exile replied. “While Fili is friendly, he isn’t one to be so at ease with people at first meeting. Tonight, he spent most of the meal talking to her. The way they interacted was as if they’d met before, and he’s never spoken of forming a friendship with a human lass during their trips with me or their mother.”

“Now that, I don’t have an answer to but see if you can pull him aside tomorrow and gently question him on it,” she suggested. “She seems like a nice girl, and I’ll try to chat her up tomorrow to get a feel for what she’s like. That should help put your mind at ease.”

Thorin gave her a smile, pleased she had a suggestion and knew she would do her best to ensure that his sister-son was not placing himself at risk with this strange girl.

The next day, Acacia went to find the girl that was worrying Thorin a great deal. Much to her surprise, after a friendly suggestion by Lindir, the young human was found in one of the forges, working on something. There was skill in her hands, but it was a level of skill that spoke of a level of mastery that could not have been taught given how young she was.

Acacia watched her work, finding the skills the girl showed to be fascinating. She’d watched Thorin work in the forge during her visits to Ered Luin, but she’d not watched anyone craft jewelry before. The hobbit remained quiet, not wanting to disturb her as she worked.

Finishing up, Hari held up the item in one hand to check that the details she’d added were right. It was an eight-rayed star in silver, likely meant to be a necklace of some kind.

“That is lovely,” the hobbit told the other.

“Thank you, miss. It’s a gift for a friend,” she told her, eyeing the young lady in front of her.

“I beg your pardon; I certainly didn’t mean to be so rude,” Acacia said, blushing. “I’m Acacia Baggins.”

“Harriet Potter,” the witch said, giving her a gentle smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Miss Baggins.”

“Acacia, please,” she said to the other.

“Hari then,” the dark haired one acknowledged. “What brings you down here?”

“Two reasons,” the hobbit answered, being honest with the other female. “First, it’s rare to see Fili opening up to someone he doesn’t know and two, I’m dying for a bit of conversation with a female. I’ve been traveling with the company for weeks and while they’re sweet, they really don’t understand that a girl needs another female around or she’ll end up breaking something over their heads before long.”

Hari laughed at that, understanding where the hobbit was coming from. As she worked to put her tools away, she answered the other.

“I can appreciate that,” she said with a grin. “There are days when I want to use a hammer over my friends’ heads because they simply can’t understand something I’m saying that another girl would.”

Acacia nodded, relieved another understood. She felt relaxed around the human, which didn’t happen often around those bigger than her, and the pair chatted for a while as Hari got her workshop shut down for the day since she was done with her project.

They talked about quite a few topics, agreeing on some things and debating others. Most of the time, they broke down into laughter when the debates turned silly. By the time they were ready to part company for the moment, both felt they had made a new friend.

“About your concerns regarding Fili, he and I will explain things to his family soon as we both know they are probably worrying since this is out of character for him,” Hari said when they’d sobered after the last bout of giggles. “He loves his family a great deal and hates it when they are concerned about him.”

“He’s a good lad,” Acacia agreed. “Family is important to him and to me as well.”

“Even if they do things that are wrong,” the witch asked, needing advice but not wanting to go into detail.

“Even then,” the hobbit said, voice quiet as she shared something she didn’t often speak of. “My father’s family abandoned me after my parents died when I was five. If it hadn’t been for my mother’s family, I would have been homeless and most likely dead before I turned six.”

“I thought hobbits were very keen on family,” she asked, taken aback by her new friend’s words. She had learned about the smallest race on Arda after coming here; she hadn’t met them during her life as Celebrimbor, and she’d heard of them when a shipment of food had arrived not a few weeks into her new life here in Imladris.

The small lass sighed, shivering as she felt something cross into the workshop. She could see the images of several people, elves, staring at the human with longing and sorrow on their faces.

“I have a gift that hasn’t been seen in the Shire since our ancestors settled there,” she shared. “I am what’s called a spirit-seer.”

“You can see the spirits of those who have died but not moved on,” Hari asked, questioning once more when the hobbit nodded. “Can you interact with them or do anything in regards to the spirits you see?”

“I can talk to them, help them move on, and I can banish evil spirits. I’m still learning because what I am has been seen only a few times in dwarven history. I’m not sure about the elves or men; I’m not too keen ask Lord Elrond in case my ability is something his people would find repulsive.”

“I’ve heard of it but rare where I come from. I think some considered it a dark power, but we can’t label powers we’re born with as light or dark,” Hari said. “Truthfully, a lot of people would give a great deal to be able to speak to the dead. It takes a compassionate heart with a lot of strength to be able to do what you can. I don’t envy you this ability given how heavy the burden must be on you.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, feeling a part of the weight she carried lighten somewhat. “The company, those who know of it, say the same but it’s hard because of the words and actions of people I have known as family all my life. They hated what I am.”

“You shouldn’t let their actions continue to hurt you,” Hari told her. “Don’t give them the power to do so.”

“I try not to,” she said. “I’ve tried to forgive them, but it isn’t easy.”

“Why,” she asked the hobbit. “They’ve hurt you, obviously in a very bad way, and their actions are against kin. That’s one of the worst things you can do.”

“Because not forgiving leaves marks on your own soul,” Acacia said, sharing thoughts that she had shared with the older members of her dwarrow family in hopes of helping them move beyond their anger. “They may not be worth forgiving, but I am not going to hurt myself carrying this much anger around. Life is too short, and I want to be able to embrace happiness without regret.”

The pair parted a short time later, promising to meet after dinner, and Hari thoughtfully polished the pendent as she mused over her new friend’s words. She could acknowledge that she had a lot of anger and pain towards what her family had done in both lives. The witch had let go of her resentment towards the Dursleys but didn’t know how to do that with her past family.

Forgiveness would be a long time coming, she knew that, but maybe it was time to speak to those she could and see if, perhaps, if the few surviving members of her old House repented of their selfish and harmful ways. Hari tucked Fili’s present into a small cloth bag, putting the bag into a pocket before going to seek out the one family member she had here in Imladris.

Maglor opened one eye at hearing the door opening. It was not Elrond or his children; the tread was much too light. The ancient elf was absolutely stunned when he saw who it was that had entered his chambers.

“Eru does indeed act in strange ways, nephew. I would never have thought to see you reborn as a mortal or as a female. Then again, I never thought you would willingly seek out my company. I can only hope that the changes have been a blessing to hide you from evil?”

Hari did not answer at first; instead she walked over to the bed where he lay and sat down at the chair there. They both looked at each other, grey eyes meeting green.

“I should really have told you this after that Maedhros killed himself and I threw the last Silmaril into the sea, but you did the right thing in disowning us as your family. Even if people still saw you as cursed for being my brother’s son, your hands remained free of blood from the Second and Third Kinslayings.”

“You knew the Silmarils were not meant for anyone to have,” she began, speaking slowly to help keep her thoughts and anger under control. “You swore an oath you had no reason to swear or any right to take over gems that should have been turned over to the Valar for protection. The House my past self was born into has been soaked with blood until it reached the point where any sort of honor was gone. Why, Maglor? Make me understand why sparkling gems were more important than family, peace, and honor.”

Maglor signed deeply, refusing to look away in shame.

“Where to start? The Darkening of Valinor and the murder of my grandfather, Finwë, at Morgoth’s hands as well as his act of stealing the Simarils unsettled everything. It was chaos; chaos no one ever expected to happen in peaceful Valinor. My father, Fëanor, was caught in his own grief of losing his father and in the web of lies that Morgoth had whispered in his ears. Father had a talent for words but listened to the wrong voice.”

“Fëanor should never have created them,” she said flatly. “The Trees were not meant for us to touch or alter, only the Valar had that right. We were not meant to go against them, yet he denied them the cursed gems to rebuild that which was destroyed. As elves, we crave the light - be it stars, sun, moon, or the Trees - and he denied everyone access to the light that comforted all by hoarding those wretched things to himself. He cursed all of us, not just his sons, but everyone of his bloodline. You knew it was wrong and showed so little compassion to those of us who wanted to stay away from the horrible actions of our house; yet you took in others and gave them the love and compassion you denied your own blood.”

Hari drew in a deep breath, trying to calm her anger.

“You and my sire did nothing to stop the anger from falling on me when I refused to take the Oath or participate in reclaiming the cursed items. Coward and traitor you called me,” she said, voice tight.

Maglor had the humility to look down at his hands in shame while answering the young woman.

“That was an act of prideful fools who failed to see the truth in time before it was far too late and not having the wisdom of not following the Oath anymore. If you had been close to me and Maedhros for a longer time, people may have seen it as a sign of that you secretly had sworn the Oath too and we could not bare to see your good name tarnished. So we pushed you away in order to protect you; we had no desire to see you lose the joy in crafting nor the friendships you had formed.”

“Your wish to protect innocents from being harmed by your deeds and reputation didn’t stop you from taking in Elrond and his brother, did it? What of their good names,” she snapped, rising to pace. “All I ever received from my house, my family, was scorn and ridicule because I would not tarnish what was left of my honor to go after those damned Silmarils. Had I gotten my hands on them, I would have gladly destroyed them for all the pain they had caused!”

She went quiet for a moment, then revealed something she had told only to Fili when she’d confirmed who she had been in the past.

“Do you know why I had been chosen to learn how to craft the Rings of Power?”

When Maglor shook his head, she continued, staring down at her scarred hands.

“It was revealed to me during my imprisonment and torture by Sauron,” she said, voice flat. “He wanted to corrupt the only remnant of honor still left in the House of Finwë, the one person who had created both of the Elessar and had a heart that wished for peace and prosperity for all. He wanted to use the skills which I inherited from my legendary grandfather in order to have his revenge against our house; he wanted to try to corrupt me, which meant having me learn to create the means of enslaving two honorable races. The fact that the rings I crafted for those elves I trusted was something he had difficulties in trying to corrupt infuriated him even more because my heart had been too pure when I forged Nenya, Vilya, and Narya.”

Her voice trailed off for a moment, and Maglor, distraught by the news, could only wait for her to continue so she could try to speak of what had happened to her during her past life.

“I gifted one ring to a friend, not knowing I had put him in danger,” she shared. “I am only fortunate the dwarrow are as stubborn as the stone their Maker crafted them from because they did not fall as the men did. I do know the rings affected the great dwarrow kings, and I feel the grief and blame for the trials those rings have brought to the descendants of my friends and the men who had no idea what it was they were given.”

The elf could sense the depths of her pain and guilt, and he closed his eyes in sorrow. Sauron would have never gone after Celebrimbor had their line not caused him to lust after jewels their father had created. Once again, their greed and pride had caused harm to someone who had not harmed another. All his nephew had wanted was to craft in peace and enjoy his time with his friends, and Celebrimbor had been denied that based on who his ancestors were.

“I had no idea, and for that, on behalf of those already long gone in our family, I can only beg for your forgiveness, nephew...niece. It may be too late to change the past, but for the sake of the future,” Maglor said softly.

“You can only apologize for yourself,” she told him softly, swallowing against the lump in her throat. “Those who are gone will have to face the consequences of their actions on their own as I will not see them again for some time. However, you are here and it is up to you to prove to me that you sincerely feel regret for the deeds you have done against others.

“Answer me this, Maglor,” Hari continued. “If the Silmarils were placed in front of you, what would you do? Would you cling to an oath that brought nothing but suffering to innocent people or would you forsake the so-called honor that comes with fulfilling those vows and try to reclaim them for our house?”

This was the big question that would determine Hari’s interactions with Maglor. If he answered correctly, she would agree to work on getting to know him and allow herself to give him a chance to earn her forgiveness. If he clung to the path that brought so much pain and suffering to so many, including her past self, then she would hold to her determination to have nothing to do with those of her former bloodline.

“No, I do not ever want to be close to a Silmaril anymore, either in this life or a new one if I ever get a chance of rebirth. I know better than my younger self who swore the oath back in Valinor. I know the suffering it would cause, and what price would have to be paid if I tried to get them back. The path cost me everything I once held dear, including you, nephew of mine,” he told her. “You chose your materials carefully so as not to bring about any form obsession since you knew that it would easily happen if you allowed it.”

“Silver and mithril were some of my favorite materials to work with,” she admitted. “Narvi used to joke I was part Durin because those are two of the materials they favor. No matter, if you are genuine on this, then I will let you prove it to me. I have something to accomplish, which will necessitate my leaving Imladris for a time, but if your heart is true on abandoning the path you set on with your father and brothers, then I will allow you a chance to prove it and earn forgiveness from me. We have not spent time together in centuries, and we do not know each other anymore as we once did as uncle and nephew back in Valinor.”

For the first time, the ancient elf’s heart lightened at the possibility of earning forgiveness from the one member of the family who had remained pure of the taint that had darkened and destroyed the honor of their house. The idea of earning that forgiveness sent a surge of strength and a true desire to live through him.

“I will earn it, no matter how long it takes,” Maglor promised.

“Good,” she said, looking a little more at ease. “I’ll leave you to rest; I’ve another conversation to have, and it will be as difficult as this one was. Rest now, Maglor, and we shall see each other later when you’ve rested properly.”

“Thank you for giving me this chance,” he said, then tilted his head. “How do you prefer to be addressed in this life?”

“I will acknowledge anyone who calls me by my past name, but I prefer to go by Hari in this life,” she answered on her way to the door.

Hari left Maglor to his rest, heading towards the area where the dwarrow were housed during their stay in Imladris. The conversation that needed to be had with Fili’s uncle would not be easy, but she had confidence that she could convince him of who she was and that she meant no harm. Even now, she was still more comfortable around dwarrow than any other race, including elves.

She found the dwarrow and smothered her urge to laugh; the group had set up camp in the large hallway that the bedrooms opened into. In truth, knowing how things had deteriorated between the elves and the line of Durin after her death, she wasn’t surprised they had chosen to stay together instead of using the bedrooms assigned to them.

“Hello the camp, permission to enter,” she called out, smiling when Fili spotted her first.

“Permission granted,” he answered with a smile, getting up to greet her. “I wasn’t expecting to see you for a while.”

“I had a talk with Maglor and thought that I would go ahead and have that chat with your uncle,” Hari told him.

Fili watched her for a moment before nodding, guiding her to where his uncle sat with Acacia and some of their cousins.

“Uncle, may we speak in private?”

Thorin looked up, eyeing his sister-son for a moment before nodding and getting up. He looked at his wife for a few seconds, helping her up when Fili invited her for the conversation.

The four of them went into Acacia’s bedroom, the only one in use since the hobbit refused to camp on a hard floor when a bed was available. Truthfully, Hari couldn’t blame her though she had to wonder why only her new friend’s pack was in here and not her husband’s. She’d have to question Fili later.

“I met Acacia earlier today, and I know you have questions about how Fili seems to know me,” Hari started after they all took their seats. “I have a bit of a story to tell you, if you’ll allow it?”

After Thorin nodded, the witch began to tell her story of her life back in England, speaking of the dreams she’d had as a child and how she’d had them all of her life. She spoke of her schooling, the difficulties she’d had there, and eventually how the dreams became flashbacks that haunted her during the day. Hari hid nothing, sharing about the first meeting with the Valar, though she’d not known who they were at the time, and then spoke of the dream sharing with Fili. She went on about her eventual capture and the memories finally coming into place. The witch shared about what she’d gone through and how she’d finally fulfilled her destiny in England, waking up in Arda and her training here.

Once done, Thorin eyed the dark haired young lady in front of him, processing everything that she’d told him. When Fili had told him about the memories he had gotten that were not his own and that he’d been Narvi in a former life, the king-in-exile had hoped that Celebrimbor would eventually join him since he knew the two were Ones.

“I want to believe you, but I need proof. I need a story or something that proves this, and I believe the exact details of how Celebrimbor and Narvi met for the first time would suffice since they never revealed it when Narvi turned up with an elf who was limping,” he said quietly.

A light blush covered her cheeks as she thought for a moment before sharing one memory that should not have made it into dwarrow history books.

“During the planning phase of the doors, Narvi and I got involved in a drinking contest,” she said, laughing when she heard Fili groan at the memory she was sharing. “We tied, beating our competition, and thought it was a good idea to work on the plans. We kept drinking while drawing out plans and eventually passed out. We woke to find Durin in the workroom, looking over the various plans, and I thought for sure we were in serious trouble. The plans that were chosen were on the table, but there were at least seven others. One had jokes about whether or not the height of elves was to compensate for the lack of height in their trousers; another was full of raunchy jokes. Those were the two that were least offensive.

“We staggered to our feet, ready to make a run for it, and Durin just turned to us with that smirk on his face and said that as much as he enjoyed the new plans, we were going to stick with the original idea. He took the other plans with him, and a day later, the rather filthy drinking songs we’d written lyrics to were being sung quite loudly in our favorite tavern.”

That had only been the start of their pranks together. In their free time, they would sometimes play harmless pranks on others, often having fun on Durin’s behalf when he was chosen for the pranks since he always managed to relax enough to plot revenge against us.

“As for how we first met, I had gone out hunting orcs on my own, once more being haunted by the past deeds of my birth family. In an act of rare carelessness, I failed to see the unsafe drop behind my horse when I had to back up to avoid running into a large group of them. The poor thing died in the sudden fall to the ground below. I managed to survive but broke my leg. My sword had fallen out of reach, and my few remaining arrows would not have protected me either. Just as I believed my life to be ended because of my own recklessness, a young dwarven warrior showed up and killed the orcs I had not managed to kill. As he could not move me too far away because of the height difference and the pain from my broken leg, he ended up dragging me to a safer spot between the cliffs and cared for me as my leg healed. As I regained my strength, we spoke of different things and found that we shared an interest in the same crafts.

“I think it helped that I had no quarrel with the dwarrow, even after the issues with the Silmaril and the dwarrow clans in the Blue Mountains. As far as I saw it then and still see it, there is a meaning behind the dwarrow’s creation, even if it was by the Maker and not by Eru the All-father. Without them, the dark lord would have won the great wars even faster and enslaved the Free Peoples of Middle-Earth. Narvi was rather surprised by my thoughts on it,” she said.

“Without a doubt,” Fili said, shaking his head. “Especially when I found out who your family was, which I didn’t hold against you when you told me of your promise to stay away from the paths they had chosen and find your own way. You wanted to bring back the old honor and glory of the House of Fëanor before everything had become so awful for your family members, which you admitted to not be easy but wanted to try.”

Thorin was pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes shut for a moment as he was thinking.

“Clearly your rebirth, even in a body like this, must be a sign of that the dwarrow of Durin’s Folk are heading towards a new Golden Age. Hopefully, it will be started in Erebor by reclaiming it.”

Hari’s eyes took on a distant expression for a moment.

“I want to believe that as well and will fight for that to happen, but there are shadows still yet to be faced.”

They all nodded. The rumors about strange events starting to happen in Mordor and the growing numbers of orcs around were not dismissed by Durin’s Folk. No matter what others said, they had a strong suspicion that Sauron was not fully defeated and that he may come back to threaten the peace between the Free People once more.

“There is something I would like to ask,” Hari said to Thorin. “I would like to accompany you on this quest and lend what aid I can. I am a decent archer, fairly good with a sword, and being a witch might work in the company’s favor. I’ve a feeling I need to be with you on this.”

Fili had mixed feelings on this, wanting her with him so they could continue working on their friendship as well as wanting to keep her safe. The images of Celebrimbor’s body on a pole, desecrated, haunted him. He had suffered from nightmares of knowing he was gone and not being able to find him. He said nothing though, knowing this was Thorin’s decision and not his.

“If your return to Middle-earth is a sign that a darker threat is about to be unleashed once more, then it will be better to have you with us so that we can protect each other as we face what is coming,” the king-in-exile stated. “Since you were taken from us from your elvish home, it’s best you remain with us so we can ensure you’re protected because if Sauron is not gone, he will be looking for you as soon as he realizes you have returned.”

“As much as I trust my old friends to protect me against Sauron, he never managed to break into the dwarven strongholds during my lifetime. That is where I am truly safe, where his powers would never reach me. He may be a former Maia of your Maker, but not even he has managed to destroy the dwarven race. From what I faintly remember of Aulë from Valinor, He would not be too pleased with Sauron if that ever happened.”

Knowing the powers of a forge, the dwarrow shuddered at the mental image of their Maker while enraged if His favorite elf should be in a such a dire situation once more.

“When we are successful in removing the worm from our home, Erebor is open to you to make your home for as long as you wish,” Thorin told her. “You are a dwarf-friend, and that will never change.”

Hari bowed her head, softly repeating the words once spoken by Celebrimbor to Durin III.

“From the West I came, yet here in the East of the World is where I belong. Not above ground but below. My heart is one of yours, even if it is born in the body of an elf, the Firstborn. I promise to stay true to the dwarrow, the Stone-children of the Maker and Smith Vala, for now and forever.”

“The Stone-Children of the Maker welcome you, child of Mahal’s heart for that is what you are,” Thorin replied, giving the response Durin had given Celebrimbor when the conversation had taken place. “Born in Eru’s light you may be but stone is forever in your heart and soul, making you one of our Maker’s children and for that, you will forever find shelter beneath the stone.”

Hari rested a hand over her heart as she bowed her head, tears filling her eyes as Thorin’s next words soothed one of the sources of pain she had carried since she could remember.

“Welcome home, heart-brother, now heart-sister,” the heir of Durin said. “We have missed you.”

Finally, after all those years, Hari knew a feeling she had missed even in her old life as Celebrimbor; it was that of being welcomed for and viewed as who she was as a person, not for the family her past self had once belonged to. She had found her missing family, and her heart was full of joy at the knowledge that she was no longer alone.

Authors’ End Note – Rogercat and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please let us know what you thought of it! For those who are fans of the actors, Richard and Graham, and enjoy anime, check out the new Castlevania. I just discovered that both were part of the voice acting team for it! Anyway, we will see you all next time! ~Rogercat & Laran
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Shadows of the Past