I do hope that you've all enjoyed my foray into LoTR with this crossover, which became NOTHING like what I had envisioned for my story, as I had thought to keep Harry and Sirius as Harry and Sirius, just with less wizarding tricks up their sleeves. How my idea became this... well, if anyone can figure it out, please feel free to let me know. I do plan on at LEAST one bonus chapter for this story and wish to thank everyone who has fav'd, follow'd, and/or taken just a moment or two to say anything in a review: it has meant a lot! to me.

And with that said: here is the last, planned, chapter. One year after posting the first one.

Two months.

It had been two months since the Battle of Dol Guldur and the many scars the fight had carved into the woodlands, the bodies of those that had fought, and the souls of those left behind to recover in the aftermath were only just beginning to soften around the edges. But it was time and more to move on, and so Marcaunon refrained from twisting about in his saddle in an attempt to grab one last look at Lothlórien. He was aided in this minor battle by a very attention grabbing Gîltass riding along at his side, chattering a mile a minute to all and sundry while gesturing wildly with the hand that had been left unrestrained by the ornate sling that bound his now useless arm to his body.

Marcaunon smiled fondly at his Godfather as he retold the story about how he had come to lose the use of his left arm to a whole new audience; making sure to cast himself in the role of the hero and painting a larger than life image of his efforts in the fight. While he had heard the story before from all of those that had made it back from that disastrous mission, and in a more realistic manner that failed to gloss over the losses that were taken that day, Marcaunon was pleased to listen to, as well as watch, the exuberance that Gîltass was displaying: it meant that his beloved Godfather was finally snapping out of the severe depression that had fallen over him in the aftermath of the fight and the fact that one of his fellow scouts died, and one was still listed as missing for no trace of her remains had ever been found and the worst was feared, that she had been snatched and hidden away by several of the orcs early in the battle. There were also the three members of the scout mission that had returned with a permanent disability: Gîltass himself, with an arm that was expected to regain no more than fifty percent of normal mobility in the shoulder due to the repeated trauma, and then poison, inflicted in the same area, Merilin who had lost her eye in an absolutely horrific facial injury, but had managed to pull through and live, though with terrible, deep scars marring her features, and Sadronial, who had the lightest injury of them all and would merely have a long scar and a barely noticeable limp to show for his sliced thigh muscle.

Over all, the scouts in that ill-fated mission had come out ahead against over-whelming odds and could count themselves blessed. Those to whom the scouts had returned to certainly did, even while in mourning for the two who did not.

It was truly something else though if you listened to the wild fairytale that Gîltass was so happily spinning beside him as they rode out of Lothlórien with the rest of the party from Imladris and those that had joined the riders from their other stops. Marcaunon cocked an eyebrow and raised a hand to his mouth as he attempted to smother the giggle that tried to escape at the mention of a flight of dragons of all things in Gîltass' wild claims. Catching the sparkling eyes of Haldir who was riding just on the other side of Gîltass and laughing quietly at the outrageousness that was Gîltass as he gave the first positive signs of the recovery to his spirit, Marcaunon gestured at himself then waved his hands up towards the front of the caravan. Haldir nodded in acknowledgement and Marcaunon wasted no more time in moving up to the front of the cavalcade, finding Arwen, and reigning in to ride beside her.

Looking at the elleth now riding beside him out of the corner of his eyes, Marcaunon was forcibly struck once again by her beauty. A beauty that had only become more radiant after her near death and her return to good health: in fact, the only possible word that could be used to describe her was glowing.

Upon thinking that, a tiny, devious smirk curled up the edges of Marcaunon's lips and he turned to more fully face Arwen, making sure that he made eye contact with her so that she could see his facial expression. After turning and getting a good look at him, Arwen focused her attention back to the vista before her; but Marcaunon could see, as he still rode facing her, that she kept shooting him looks that grew ever more irritated.

"What!?" Arwen huffed as she finally cracked under his gaze.

"Oh, nothing much," Marcaunon nonchalantly drawled, the smirk still playing about the corners of his mouth. "It just came to me, as I pulled in along side of you, how exquisitely beautiful you are, and that you can truly be said to be glowing."

"Why, thank you," Arwen quietly said, blushing fetchingly. However, before she could continue, Marcaunon glanced about him then leaned towards her, gesturing her closer as well. Intrigued, she did as he wordlessly requested.

"That little fact, that you're glowing, should be a lot of fun on your bonding night," Marcaunon smugly said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively at her.

"Marcaunon!" Arwen squealed as she reared back, blushing profusely as she fanned at her heated face.

"Just thought that should be pointed out," he said, still waggling his eyebrows outrageously at her even as he started to make loud smacking, kissing noises at her when he finished speaking.

"You! You...you!" Arwen spluttered, groping futilely for a word that would perfectly describe the brat riding beside her and who was making more and greater outrageous noises and gestures the longer she went without managing to shut him up.

Finally deciding that enough was enough, and certain that she could not anymore withstand the assault of blood that had rushed to her face and refused to recede thanks to Marcaunon's actions, Arwen quickly cued her mare into a sidestep, placing her much, much closer to the brat, and reached out, giving him a harsh, sharp shove and causing the small male to flail about as he almost fell off the side of his horse.

"Hah!" Arwen triumphantly cried out. "Looks like someone had forgotten much of the skills Glaureithel tried to pound into his head about mounted manouvers. I would truly be remiss in my duties to a kinsman if I failed to report such a shocking laspe as I have no wish to be the cause of said kinsman coming to harm. I am quite sure that Glaureithel would be overjoyed to see to some one-on-one lessons."

Marcaunon blanched at the threat Arwen was leveling at him. He had zero desire to be put through any form of training from that elf ever again! Wet, cold, and muddy had been the least of the horrors that had come out of that nightmare-ish experience. Pouting at Arwen, Marcaunon made his eyes go as big as he could and let the slight wind they were riding against dry and irritate his eyes until they began to water, even as he pulled in his shoulders and hunched down to make himself look smaller than he already was.

"You wouldn't do something that horrible to me, would you?" Marcaunon asked in a little voice, making sure it wobbled just the tiniest bit as though fighting back tears.

Arwen looked him over and sighed gustily. Cueing her horse once again to siddle over, as Marcaunon's flailing had pulled his horse away from hers, Arwen reached out a hand and stroked it lightly over the top of Marcaunon's head and down what she could reach of his long, dark braid.

"No, I suppose I wouldn't," she fondly stated. "But mind your teasing please, you little brat."

Marcaunon immediately straightened in his saddle and looked smug.

"Yeah, I suppose I could do that. But...," Marcaunon said liltingly. "I do seem to recall, on my bonding night no less, several, hmm...how should I phrase this?several very interesting things occurring that kept threatening to interrupt what Glorfindel and I were attempting to do to one another as well as with one another."

Arwen blushed again, although much lighter than previously, before coughing lightly to clear her throat.

"Well, yes," she began, looking everywhere around her but keeping her gaze from the elf riding easily at her side. "Those brothers of mine! Such a troublesome pair they are and so prone to playing pranks."

"Hmm...," Marcaunon merely hummed in response, pasting a bland expression and a polite smile on his face. "Yes, those twins. My, my. And they do such an incredible impersonation of your voice and looks! Why, someone who didn't know any better would swear to the Valar that the person they heard and saw just outside their garden entrance on their bonding night was you! But isn't it a wonderful thing that both Glorfindel and myself know better about such things."

"Oh, why yes. Yes it is much better!" Arwen cheerfully agreed, still not making eye contact as she gazed serenely up at the few clouds floating overhead in the crisp-looking, blue sky. "Much, much better! Because it would be a horrible thing, if someone who didn't know better, were to confuse me with those terrible pranksters, especially with my own bonding coming up so quickly and all. Why who knows the terrible, horrible things that could happen."

"Yes, indeed," Marcaunon blandly stated, his eyes narrowing slightly though as he spoke. "Horrible and terrible. Just as you've stated. Several times in fact."

"Yes, yes."

The two rode in silence for only a handful of moments before Arwen made the mistake of catching Marcaunon's eye, then they both burst out in bright peals of laughter. It took several miles before the two of them finally stuttered to a halt, as everytime they looked at one another, another round of happy laughter rang forth.

Finally,

"I still cannot believe that you did that to us that night," Marcaunon laughingly wheezed out.

"Yes, well," Arwen embarrassingly began, lightly twitching the heavy fabric of her split, riding skirt. "I did not think it out very well or I would never have done such at that time of night. But in my defense, you and Glorfindel had only just retired and I thought that at most, I would caused a minor delay in your evening's activities, not...well, what I did cause to occur."

The two of them trailed off into a companionable silence, neither feeling any need to speak any further on the subject as they rode steadily onwards.

Eventually, Marcaunon broke the silence as the sun began to gently sink into the horizon.

"You do know that I love you and will miss you greatly, but I am so incrediably happy for you at the same time," Marcaunon said just loudly enough to be heard over the pounding of hooves hitting against the hard ground. "You and Estel have worked hard towards, and prayed desperately for, this outcome. I truly couldn't be happier for the two of you and I know that you will both reign in graciousness and splendor, as though the kings of old have once again returned to rule over Gondor, and will usher in a new age. One that will be better than the bitter dregs that are the remnants of this one."

Arwen turned slightly in her saddle, easily matching her movements to those of her mount, and met Marcaunon's slightly watery eyes with her own, offering up a wavering smile to the slight elf.

"I...thank you," Arwen quietly replied, fighting back tears. "It is a hard thing I do: even if my choice was made out of love and for love, I have had to give up the family of my childhood to grasp at the hope of making a new family with the one I love. I thank you greatly for the kind words and well-wishes and I beg this boon of you: please watch over my children, and their children. And the rest of our line for as long as you and your beloved yet roam these lands.

"I would beg this favor of my father, and not seek to place such a burden on your shoulders; however, my father is tired and heart sick, and I am fully aware that he is intending to seek respite from his cares and woes over the sea."

Marcaunon made sure that he held her eyes as he gave as graceful a bow as he was capable of from the back of a horse: wordlessly reassuring Arwen that he would see to her request, no matter the difficulties it might present. He knew that he certainly held no interest in sailing to the West yet as he was quite young and still wished to see and experience much more of this new world now that he was considered old enough to leave the safety of Imladris. Also, Glorfindel had been sent back by the Valar and so was probably not able to return to the Undying Lands until such time as he was actually called for.

This time, when silence once again fell over them, it remained completely unbroken by either and the two of them rode onwards in the midst of legends and persons of great power quietly until the time came to once again set up a camp for the evening. Pulling up their mounts, Marcaunon leaned dangerously across the gap and hugged Arwen tightly around her slim shoulders, before peeling away and gently riding Gwilwileth around the outside of the halted company.

As he carefully walked Gwilwileth, Marcaunon kept his attention focused on those he was riding with until he finally saw who he was looking for. Nudging Gwilwileth lightly with his heels and giving her a little tug on one reign, Marcaunon quickly found himself dismounted and standing easily beside Glorfindel. Dropping the reins, and trusting to Gwilwileth's excellent training to keep her ground tied, Marcaunon flung himself at Glorfindel, burying his face tightly against the much taller elf's chest as he wrapped his arms around that tall, muscular body.

"What troubles you so, pîn meleth?" Glorfindel quietly murmured into Marcaunon's braided raven locks.

Marcaunon pulled back just enough so that when he tilted his head upwards, their eyes could meet.

"I rode beside Arwen today, which I am sure that you noticed, and we starting talking. And at first, it was just like always...," Marcaunon trailed off briefly, before regaining his mental fortitude and continuing, tears gathering at the corners of his jewel bright eyes and anguish spiking his tone as he relayed Arwen's request and finished with, "I'm just going to miss her! So much."

Glorfindel said nothing to that, merely wrapping his arms tigher around Marcaunon and burying his face in the thick braid: wordlessly offering some comfort to the distressed elf. They only stood like that for a moment or two before Glorfindel reluctantly release Marcaunon, having felt the other begin to pull away slightly. Marcaunon offered up a smile that was really nothing more than a quirk of his lips, but seeing it made Glorfindel feel somewhat better at least.

"Come," Marcaunon resolutely stated. "We must see to the needs of Gwilwileth and Asfaloth. We may not have ridden hard this day, especially compared to what they were put through several months ago, but they too deserve their rest. And to be pampered in as much a manner as we can contrive."

"Indeed," Glorfindel easily replied. "I have in fact already seen to Asfaloth's comfort and care, but I would be more than pleased to lend you a hand as well as escort you to where the nearest pen has been set up for the horses care."

"Please and thank you!" Marcaunon smiled more fully before grabbing ahold of Gwilwileth's reins.

Ignoring the gesture Marcaunon gave to indicate his desire for Glorfindel to lead the way, Glorfindel instead reached out and snagged a tight hold of the delicate hand, tucking the dainty appendage into the corner of his arm as he proceeded fall into place alongside of his beloved. He counted himself extremely well-rewarded when a slight blush spread over Marcaunon's exquisite features at the romantic gesture. His sensitive hearing also picked up the slightest hitch in Marcaunon's breathing, which set Glorfindel's mind into overdrive as he frantically thought of a way to guarantee a bit of privacy during the night, even as his feet lead the way to the nearest horse pen.

Marcaunon was slightly puzzled by the silence they walked in, but choose to ignore it and simply enjoyed being in able to bask in Glorfindel's presence without the need to worry about anything more troublesome than tending to his mare's needs. The whirlwind of events that occurred over the last eight months had truly pushed him to his limits and almost beyond: and he hadn't even been on the front lines! Marcaunon couldn't even begin to imagine what many of the others felt like and really didn't want too. His work as a Healer was wonderful and satisfying, and he had no greater desires than might lead him into danger at the forefront of an enemy engagement.

Giving his head a swift shake to clear it of his wayward thoughts, Marcuanon swifty saw to the needs of Gwilwileth with the ease of familiarity, gave a bit of attention and pampering to Asfaloth, and used a tiny burst of his gifts to ensure that the grass that had been cordoned off in this particular pen was especially filling and nutritious for the steeds held in it. He gave a decisive nod of his head when he saw that he was finished and that everything was completed to his satisfaction and her comfort, before grabbing a hold of Glorfindel and pulling him back to where the two of them had met up, pausing only long enough to snatch up his saddle bags and blanket roll from on the ground where he had dumped his gear before tending to his mare.

Once back from the pen, Marcaunon re-dumped his stuff on the ground beside Glorfindel's belongings, and with far less care given to them than was obvious that Glorfindel had bestowed upon his own things as they were obviously placed just so on the green grass. Marcaunon's lips twisted slightly as he stared down at the difference in the two piles before giving an elegant roll of his shoulders that plainly indicated his lack of interest, then, still holding tightly to Glorfindel, led the way over to where a small fire had been started.

Once they reached the tiny circle of flames, Marcaunon dropped to the ground, pulling lightly at Glorfindel's hand as he did so but taking care to not pull so hard that Glorfindel was given no choice in the matter. Not that it mattered in the slightest as Glorfindel immediately followed suit by gracefully settling onto the grass, sitting so close that their legs lightly rubbed up against one another. Marcaunon took advantage of this closeness to rest his head against Glorfindel's broad shoulders and sneak one slight hand to gently rest on the extremely close leg, even as he kept his gaze on the dancing and quivering flames as they were put to work heating up a stew pot that had been hung on a tripod over the tiny fire.

The crackling and popping of the fire paired pleasently with the drone of their fellow travelers preparing for the evening after a long, hard day, creating a soothing white noise that easily lulled Marcaunon into a light trance; the occasional burst of laughter or singing that rose above the general murmur, and the much closer noises of the stew pot being stirred or someone calling out directions on what to add to the stew or what else should be prepared supper the only things that kept Marcaunon from falling into a true slumber. He, and all of those who also were called upon to heal, had been run ragged in the last couple of months in the aftermath of the Battle of Dol Guldur.

Glorfindel smiled faintly at his sleepy beloved as Marcaunon's head rested more heavily upon his shoulder. With carefull maneuvering and much patience on his part, Glorfindel was able to re-position the two of them, letting Marcaunon lay stretched out on the new Spring grass with his head cushioned by laying on Glorfindel's leg, where he was able to lightly run his fingers over the braided, ebon locks and up and over the delicately pointed ears. Hearing a light snort, Glorfindel glanced up and met the laughing eyes of Gîltass, who was being assisted to the ground near them by a pleased looking Haldir, who was, in turn, being closely followed by his brothers bearing all of their gear.

"Good evening," Glorfindel quietly stated, bowing his head slightly towards the new-comers; all the while, continuing his light stroking over Marcaunon's head.

"It is a rather nice evening, isn't it?" Gîltass smartly replied, keeping his voice down as he did so. Turning to face Rúmil, Gîltass changed the subject, "In my largest saddle bag is a small teapot. If you could please fill it up half and half with water and wine, then place it to heat near the fire, I would most appreciative."

Gîltass answered the unvoiced question he could easily read on Glorfindel's face when he turned back around.

"It is for the medications I must take: one is a little something to take the edge off of the pain because several nerves were damaged permanently and now send odd signals to my brain, the second is to relax my muscles, both because of the long ride today as well as the fact that I am required to do an hour of prescribed exercises every day without fail that will hopefully increase the range of motion and function in my shoulder, and the third batch is to help boost my immune system. Whatever foul gloup was coated onto that arrow that pierced me was truly tenacious and has left me susceptible to ill-vapors and catching chills. The medicines given me are most effective if dissolved in heated wine, but, having to take three of them every night as well as a dose of the pain medication in the morning, I had no desire to try and carry that much wine with me on this little journey and there was no way I was going to let myself be left behind for such an occasion."

Glorfindel's face lit up in understanding of the answer. He then swiftly turned the subject to something completely different as he felt Marcaunon tense slightly under his roaming hand, knowing that his little love was still upset over the wounds Gîltass still suffered from and had clearly heard somewhat of the conversation. Gîltass smiled faintly at him, gave a infinitesimal nod of his head to the almost sleeping Marcaunon, and allowed him to steer the conversation towards something completely harmless and light, such as the fact that Elrond was known to be carrying around a small bag that his sons had requested him to bring along, thus causing much worry in the bride-to-be as Lord Elrond had made no secret of whose bag it was.

And that was how the time passed, in simple conversation and light gossip which would erupt into happy laughter at times, until finally being informed that the evening meal was ready to be eaten; at which point, Glorfindel calmly roused Marcaunon, saw to it that he ate and participated somewhat in the conversation, before excusing themselves to the small group and leading Marcaunon back to their equipment drop.

Looking down at the petite elf almost hanging off of his arm in weariness, even after a short nap and a hot, filling meal, Glorfindel valiently refrained from sighing loudly. He had had such hopes for the evening after the responsiveness of his beloved earlier, but such was life and he had more desire to see to the comfort of Marcaunon than to keep him up late, wringing every bit of pleasure from that lithe, tiny body that he could.

'Well,' Glorfindel thought lightly as he re-thought over that last impulse, 'perhaps, in truth, I would greatly prefer doing the latter, but as a good bond mate, I shall see to the former. And after all, there is always the option of an early start to the day.'

Smiling brightly now at the turn of his thoughts, Glorfindel assisted Marcaunon down to the patch of grass the two of them had claimed for their own, steadying him with a hand to the elbow as Glorfindel made short work of shaking out and spreading one set of their bedrolls over the ground. Glorfindel then eased Marcaunon into laying supine upon the bedding before either loosening or removing several items of apparal that would have made slumber uncomfortable. Grabbing the other set of their bedding, Glorfindel unrolled it and tossed it lightly over Marcaunon. He then quickly saw to the removal of his own bits of uncomfortable items before sliding in between the layers and latching onto Marcaunon's relaxed body, pulling gently until the two of them were laying tightly wound around one another.

Marcaunon sighed gently, then snuggled his head further forwards until it was resting fully upon Glorfindel's chest, tucked just under his chin, his already relaxed body somehow becoming more so as the heat from another body joined with his under the blankets and let him fall gracefully into a full slumber.

Just before true sleep crept up to claim him though, Marcaunon was able to slur one last thought out to share with Glorfindel.

"M'happy f'r Arw'n an' Est'l an' I wans'em ta have lotsa lotsa b'bies 'cause I wanna see Arw'n waddle!"

Glorfindel mentally laughed at his little bondmate even as he raised his head up just enough to place a loving kiss to the top of the head that was nestled so closely to his lips. Laying back down, Glorfindel settled in for a night of star-gazing as he held tightly to his slumbering beloved. As he beheld the splendor of the heavens shining like the finest of jewels resting on a bed of the blackest velvet, Glorfindel spied a star shooting across the night sky. Seeing it, and remembering the old children's rede about wishing upon a shooting star for one's heart's desire, Glorfindel felt a profound wave of love and gratefulness.

Lifting his head up ever so slightly once again, Glorfindel placed another kiss upon Marcaunon's precious head and gave wordless thanks and praise to the Valar for bringing the two of them together across worlds and through Death and out the other side of a terrible, eons long war as they stepped out into the new days of a long-promised peace to face whatever may come: together, forever.

pîn [pîn] adj. little

glaur [gloer] name golden light

eithel [eithil] name issue of water, spring, well

love name meleth [melith]

t.a.3019

march 3 - battle of the hornbrg (helm's deep) begins

march 6 - aragorn over taken by the dunedain, sets out later for harrowdale

march 8 - aragorn takes the path of the dead at daybreak, arrives at erech at midnight

March 25 - the one ring falls into the cracks of doom

march 27 - celeborn crosses anduin, destruction of dol guldur begun

april 6 - meeting of celeborn and thranduil.

april 8 - the ring bearers are honored on the fields of cormallen

may 1 - king elessar crowned; elrond and arwen set out from rivendell

may 8 - eomer and eowyn depart for rohan with the sons of elrond

may 20- elrond and arwen come to lorien

may 27 - the escort of arwen leaves lorien

june 14 - the sons of elrond meet up with the escort and bring arwen to edoras

june 16 - they set out for gondor

june 25 - king elessar finds the sapling of the white tree

1 lithe - arwen comes to the city

mid-year's day - wedding of arwen and elessar

july 19 - the funeral escort of king theoden sets out

august 27 - they come to isenguard; they take leave of the king of the west at sunset

all dates and information were taken from Appendix B of the book "The Return of the King"