The Green Rider

Rating: M

Warnings: Violence, Language, Gore (No, not the former US Vice President... although he sometimes should carry a warning label)

Summary: Harry is the Master of Death. After his death during a robbery in the muggle bookshop he owned, he jumped from reality to reality. He has lived many lives, some taken right out of the stories he fell in love with during his first lifetime. Now, Harry is being reincarnated for the fourty-seventh time in Alagaesia. Like many of his other lives, his comming has been fortold.

"blah" - common human language

'blah' - thought

'blah' - thought speach

"blah" - Ancient Language

:blah: - Dwarvish

A/N: Yes, I realized I misformulated Harry's monicer, The Wandering Mist, in the first chapter. I went back and changed it. It was originally Du Rakr Gata, but the real formulation is Du Rakr Vrangr. I appologize.

Chapter 2: An Old Friend and Assasination Attempts

After three days of flying, only stopping for bodily function breaks, the elven delegation arrived at the waterfall that was the entrance to Farthen Dur. Landing, Harry brought them close, reaching out with a tendril of his consciousness, connecting with each mind so their conversation could not be heard by any of the Varden's sentries that were undoubtedly posted around the valley.

'Now, I wish to speak with you all before we meet the Varden. All I ask is that you be on your guard. Reveal nothing, including your knowledge of the Ancient Language. There are two spies that need to be dealt with before we can begin arming the Varden and the Dwarves with our knowledge. There are many who wish to use the Varden for their own machinations. Be wary of the Du Vrangr Gata,' an amused chuckle was drawn from a few of the younger elves and a snort was heard from Rhunon, 'Yes, it is amusing that they don't even know how to formulate their own name in the Ancient Language, but they are still dangerous. Each one struggles for power, working against their fellows, not working as a team. Do not accept anything from anyone without approval from Ayra Drottningu or myself. Remember, their customs differ, do not do anything that could possibly be considered as insulting. We don't want to incite an incident that estranges the races.' Harry glared at Rhunon, who gave another snort and rolled -her eyes. Besides Harry himself, she was the one that was most likely to cause trouble, her coarse personality grating on the nerves of those around her.

He switched to speaking in common, "Alright, let's go meet the Varden!"

The group approached the wall. Harry was first, as his place as Dragon Rider, followed by Rhunon. The nine remaining elves trailed the two elders in three lines of three. Eridor followed, providing a rather intimidating backdrop for the elven delegation.

Harry raised his head and shouted out the pass phrase, "Ai varden abr du Shur'tugal gata vanta!"

Ten minutes passed.

Thirty minutes.

An hour.

Two hours.

Harry had long seated himself in front of the door, deciding to spend the time meditating. At the third hour, while Harry was contemplating whether to just open the door himself, he heard a loud grating noise and the doors swung inwards.

Getting up and dusting himself off, he squinted into the darkness of the cave opening to see a single Dwarf standing in the immense gateway. While the knurla looked rather young as dwarves go, he conducted himself with strength and determination as he strode out, only to halt in front of Harry.

"Greetings, Shur'tugal! I am Kuznarn. I come from mine King, Hrothgar, who asks your business here. While it gladdens us that the elves have returned, we had believed that you had broken ties with the Granite Throne?"

:Greetings, I am Eonwe. I come from the elven Queen, Islanzadi, with news, honorable dwarf, news concerning the elves, dwarves, Varden, and Riders alike,: during his meditation, Harry had decided that speaking to the dwarves in their own language would be a show of good faith, :It is of the utmost urgency that I speak to his Majesty, King Hrothgar, and the Honorable Ajihad.:

Needless to say the Dwarf was surprised that this elf could speak Dwarvish fluently, but he quickly hid his shock. :I am sorry, Argetlam, but due to these desparate times, you will not be allowed entrance into Farthen Dur without confirmation that you are who you say you are and that you have no ill intentions. You are our guest, but surely you cannot fault us for trying to protect ourselves.: The dwarf seemed sincerely sorry that it was required to scan their minds. Harry knew this would be coming.

:I fully understand and I am not offended in the least,: Harry said with a smile, :I do, however, have concerns for the method of the confirmation. Elven minds are…different is the best word I can use to describe it. Humans and even dwarves run the risk of madness if they look into the mind of an elf. If it is absolutely necessary to view into our minds to discern our intentions, let it be done by a dwarf. Of the two races, you are the ones who are more resistant to madness.: the Dwarf smirked at the implied insult to humanity, :If the magician does not stray into the secrets of the Riders and the Elves and they does not actively seek to cause pain, then I will facilitate them, cushioning the effect on their minds. I will not, however, help those to foolish to respect that which they do not understand. :

The dwarf nodded sharply, looking slightly nervous at the possibility that one of magicians might fall into madness. :Thank you Agetlam, If you will follow me, I will lead you to a magician who shall administer the mental probe.:

They had been walking for about half an hour when they stopped. Well, Harry, the elves, and their Dwarven guide had been walking; Eridor had to pull his legs up, close to his body, and slither through the halls since he barely fit into the tunnel anyway. Thankfully, it had been a tactic they had already been trained in by Bid'Daum.

Stopping at a small door in the wall, the dwarf opened the door and motioned for the elves to enter, looking slightly nervous to be alone in the hall with a very large dragon.

Stepping into the sparsely furnished room, he saw that there was a wide array magic users. While he recognized Trianna, wearing her serpent familiar around her wrist in the shape of a small snake, the bald traitorous Twins, and Angela the Herbalist, most of those present were unknown to Harry. Harry glanced back at Angela, he had seen her before. She was something from his past, tugging at the back of his mind, wanting to be recognized. He brushed it away, focusing on the situation at hand.

As the young dwarf (Harry assumed him to be a herald of some sort) introduced each of the magicians present, Harry took his time to examine each in turn. Many of the humans wore a mixture of fear, awe, and excitement. The dwarves, on the other hand, were impossible to read. Their faces were blank and cold, betraying no emotion.

Quickly moving through the ranks, Harry was finally introduced to the four he was most concerned with. Coming to the Twins, he surprised at their polite, if somewhat cold greetings. Harry was not fooled. Even without touching their minds, he could feel their power bubbling, connecting with each others, readying themselves for something.

As he was introduced to Trianna, he felt the Twins throw the weight of their combine minds, augmented with their magic to debilitate Harry with pain as they tried to discect his mind for information. Thankfully, close to forty thousand years as a Maiar had given him near impenetrable mental shields and an iron will.

Harry moved so fast that even the elves, with their improved eyesight, could not track him. Almost instantaneously, Harry had the Laufsblädar out, each viridian scimitar resting on one of the Twins' collarbones. Harry's face contorted into a mask of anger.

Harry spoke, forcing his power into the words, "In the elven culture, it is the utmost insult and a gross invasion of privacy to attempt to force yourselves into another's mind!" Harry snarled, "You have insulted the elves and the hospitality of both King Hrothgar and the Varden. But most importantly, you have insulted a Shur'tugal, both Dragon and Rider, and as Shur'tugal, we are honor-bound to challenge you to a duel, to regain the dignity of the Order."

Harry could feel the anger in the room. The dwarves, as a whole, were furious that someone had attacked a guest of their people. Usually, the perpetrators were sentenced to a fate worse than death, but most of them realized that death at the sword of an Argetlam would have to suffice. Most of the humans were trembling in fear. A woman in the back of the room had actually broken down and cried from the terror that he incited with his power. The elves behind Harry seethed with silent furry, that such an affront would even be thought of.

There were five people in the room that didn't fall into the category of 'fear' or 'anger'. The Twins were wide-eyed, seemingly thinking the same thing, 'What the hell did we just get ourselves into?' Angela was still wearing the warm smile that she had been wearing ever since he had walked into the room. Unsurprisingly, Rhunon just rolled her eyes and went back to sharpening the axe she had broken out once she saw that they may be in this room for a while. Trianna was the only one who had thrown Harry for a loop. She was staring at Harry like he was a piece of meat, a small, lusty smile gracing her lips. Harry almost expected her to jump his bones right there. He shivered slightly and turned back to the Twins. Almost fifty thousand years of reincarnations and he was still bad with dealing women chasing after him. He had already found the love of his life and had spent a happy lifetime with her. No one would ever be able to come close to his Keladry.

"Yes, normally, I would be honor bound to challenge you to a duel, but I will not," among the humans there was a sigh of relief. "It is only because your attempt came nowhere near breaching my shields and that I would not risk the relations between the Varden, dwarves, and the elves that I will not reciprocate your hostility," a cold smile crept onto his face, "There will be no retaliation from the elves, but I still leave you to the dwarves' judgment. You have attacked a guest of their King. It is up to them to decide your fate."

The Twins looks of fear dissolved into smirks of satisfaction. The left Twin spoke out, his oily voice filled with arrogance, "I am afraid, Shur'tugal, that you are mistaken. You are not yet a guest of the dwarves. You have neither entered Farthen Dur with a diplomatic delegation, nor have you been received by either King Hrothgar or a Clan Chief as guests. You have no claim to dwarven justice." A majority of the dwarves looked ready to strike the Twins down where they stood. It was not their decision who was a guest and who was not. They knew, however, that the Twins were correct (and this just made them all the more enraged). If the Argetlam had not been greeted as a guest by Hrothgar or entered into the city with his delegation, he was not legally considered a guest.

"Ah, I actually believe I am correct. You see, if I am not mistaken, this good knurlan," Harry gestured at the dwarf who had led them to this room from the waterfall, "is a Royal Herald." He looked to the dwarf and got, not only a nod of conformation, but also a slight smirk. The dwarf knew where Harry was going with this. "According to dwarven law, the Royal Herald speaks with the personal powers of the King when sent to communicate in the King's stead. When the Royal Herald greeted me, he stated that the King had sent him for that purpose. That denotes that he carries the personal powers of the Monarchy in his Majesty's stead," behind the Twins, slowly but surely, the dwarves' eyes flashed in recognition of Harry's plan and their anger at the Twins escaping on a technicality faded. Instead, they began plotting what punishment was suitable for the Twins since they could not proclaimed menknurlan. Harry continued, "He then stated that we were guests. That statement carries the full weight of the King. So, according to their law, I am a guest. All that needs to be clarified is if the King actually sent this Herald to greet me, which I do not doubt that he did."

By the end of Harry's speech, the Twins were green. Harry could practically see the cogs turning in their head, trying to figure out a way to get out of this mess.

Harry knew that they were the traitors within the Varden but he didn't have proof. An oath in the Ancient Language could be circumvented through their meaning of the words. He had seen some of their traitorous acts when their minds had collided with his shields, but that would just Harry's word against the Twins. He knew exactly where to find the proof. Now all he needed was for Ajihad to order a search of their quarters.

Angela's voice startled Harry out of his plotting. "You said that it is a great insult to enter another's mind without invitation. I have a potion that needs to come off of the burner soon, so can we make this quick? Can I enter your mind to check your motives so we can all go back to our lives?" She switched to the Ancient language. "I do swear that I will not try to learn anything, while inside your mind, that you do not wish me to know." Harry knew that she could not lie in the ancient language, so he knew her motives were pure.

"All you had to do was ask. Go ahead." Harry allowed her mind passage through his shields

Instantly, Angela was in his mind. 'Well, I think I'll just wait around a little bit to let them think that I am scanning you, then we can all go about our merry way.'

'You aren't going to actually scan me? I could be a shade or a spy for all you know.'

He could hear her mental snort, 'Well, let's see. You couldn't be a shade; you don't have the hair or the eyes for that. You couldn't be a spy because if that Dragon isn't over a thousand years old, I will eat my cauldron. All of the Forsworn were younger than Galbatorix, and he's only around a hundred and thirty. Besides, we have met before.' Harry could hear sadness enter her voice, 'Even if you don't remember me, Harry Potter, I remember you.' With that, she pulled out of Harry's mind, leaving Harry wondering where he had met here before. It had to have been from his past lives because the elves were his first contact with civilization in this world, barring the hut he had lived in for fourteen hundred years. That could only mean that she too had been reincarnated! Harry wondered which of his lives she was from. He had used the name Harry Potter in so man, it was hard to determine from which she hailed.

Her voice broke through his thoughts, "He is trustworthy. He has a thing for saving people; he would never cause innocents harm. Now, I have an Influenza cure to tend to," With that, Angela left the room. As she shut the door, Harry could swear he heard a soft sob.

Harry was nervous. Even after his many lifetimes, he hated his fame. This was no different. He was standing on the bony top of Eridor's head, holding on to one of his spikes for balance. He was told that he could be barely be seen when he was seated on Eridor's back, right in front of the dragon's wing joints. Before him were Rhunon and the elves; behind him was an honor guard of fifty or so of the Varden's warriors, who left a cautious distance between them and Eridor's heavily spiked tail. He was about to make the long trek from the outer gates which led into the crater of Farthen Dur to the central hall of the city. Only when he reached the central hall under Isidar Mithrim would they descend to the Throne room where Harry and Eridor would meet Ajihad and Hrothgar.

A chink of bright light expanded as the monstrous doors opened noiselessly. There, as expected was a huge crowd, composed of both humans and dwarves, lining the road all the way to the heap of marble that was the city.

As they marched out, starting to make their way to the city, not a sound could be heard. It seemed like they were all in shock. He felt a mind that he immediately identified as Rhunon brush up against his, seeking communication. Harry allowed her in.

'Well, go on, give them a wave. You are a Dragon Rider, public appearances are part of the job description.' Harry playfully gave her a mental image of the elven equivalent of the middle finger (he knew she wouldn't be offended since she herself had done the same on numerous occasions during the flight across the Hadarac) and was rewarded with a small chuckle.

Harry raised his hand in a gesture of hailing and the effect was almost instantaneous: a tremendous roar rose from the crowd. Harry was almost deafened by the sheer volume, which alone caused a cloud of dust to rise from the road as the very ground was shaken.

After Eridor had taken a few steps, Harry felt something change in the air around him. It felt as if there was magic charging the air, but he didn't see anything on the ground that could have possibly caused it, so he looked up.

Above him were thousands of icicles, ranging from the size of Harry's hand to monsters the size of a house. These icicles were not attatched to the wall of Farthen Dur. No, these were speeding towards the ground, having been knocked loose by whatever spell was in the air. With no time to spare, he reached out to the minds of the elves in front of him, nearly screaming so he could be heard behind their mental shields, 'Help me put up a shield, the icicles are falling!'

Harry didn't waste more time explaining it to them. He threw the entirety of his power into a large triangular shield. Emerald fire rose from the ground a few feet past the edges of the crowds to come together with each other hundreds of feet above the road, shielding the crowds that were standing in the path of the falling icicles. He hoped the shape of the shield would allow him to redirect the icicles, not stop them completely. Because of the angle of the shield, the icicles wouldn't direct much energy into the shield, instead, sliding down the sides to embed itself in the soft soil beside the road. It should work… in theory. He quickly felt Eridor and the elves diverting their magic into Harry, strengthening the shield with streaks of colored fire against the majority of emerald energy.

The elves had no idea how he was doing what he was doing… then again, they didn't even know what he was doing. Instead, they just fed him their energy, hoping that it would be enough to stop the tons upon tons of ice that were hurtling towards the crowds. None of the elves had ever seen something like this before; they would have thought it impossible if they had not seen it with their own eyes. But then again, Eonwe was one of the Grey Folk, the race that bound magic to the Ancient Language, of course they could use magic that seemed impossible within the boundaries that restricted the other races.

Harry smiled as the falling icicles were diverted away from the crowds. This shield was one of his pride and joys. He had developed it, blending Tortallan raw magic Mage Shields, the Protego Maxima Inflamara, and the magic channeling techniques of the Maiar.

Looking around, he saw that the crowd of well wishers and gawkers had dispersed, most running for the safe zone around the city that lied directly under the opening of the crater, while some stood frozen in their places, their wide eyes flickering between the shield above their heads and the Rider who had saved their lives.

Hrothgar and Ajihad watched as the crowds lined up to see the new Shur'tugal from the balcony above the city's Western Gate. The reports concerning this new player in the war were interesting. His age varied, depending upon which report one read. Many of the humans who had reported to Ajihad stated that he looked to be about seventeen or eighteen in human years, translating to around thirty in an elven lifespan. Hrothgar's information came from the dwarves, most of whom had been alive during the War of the Riders. They were wise enough not to take wild guesses at his age, rather, they described the Shur'tugal, both Rider and Dragon alike, stating that elf's age was deceptive since his dragon appeared to be much older. Hrothgar had to admit, he was looking forward to meeting this new rider. Anyone who could put those vile Twins in their place was someone worthy of the attention of a King.

Slowly, the gates at the edge of the crater edged open. Through the spelled spyglasses that both Hrothgar and Ajihad used, they could see the elves slowly march out, followed by an enormous dragon. Ajihad was shocked. His reports had said that the Rider was accompanied by a 'huge dragon' but Ajihad had no idea that it would be this large. He would have sworn that the dragon which had just passed through the gates was a medium sized hill if he had not just seen it move.

Both rulers watched as the miniscule figure standing on the dragon's head raised his hand in a hailing gesture and flinched at the tremendous roar that filled the crater. At first, Hrothgar had thought it was the dragon, but on closer inspection, the dragon had its great maw clamped shut. He realized that it was the crowd that was shaking the very foundations of the city with its roar.

They watched as the small figure of the dragon rider jerkily looked around, then glanced up. Following the Rider's eyes, both rulers looked up and promptly went white. There, speeding towards the crowds below were thousands of the icicles that had, until recently, been hanging off of the inner walls of Farthen Dur.

They were stunned when two immense walls of emerald fire leaped to life on either side of the crowd, coming together over the road, shielding the crowd from the falling chunks of ice. Multiple streaks of color blossomed in the flames as Hrothgar saw the elves, as one, reach their hands out towards the Rider.

They watched in silence as the icicles glanced off of the shield, imbedding themselves in the loamy soil on either side of the road.

Ajihad was startled out of his shock by the snick of Hrothgar snapping his spyglass closed, "Well, I need to change into mine Robes of State. I believe we should be going. We do have a Rider to thank for the saving of our people's lives." As the dwarven King left, Ajihad turned his spyglass back to the rider, his mouth still hanging slightly open at the display of such powerful magic.

Harry strode into the dwarven throne hall, eyes fixated on the pair standing at the end of the hall near the large stone throne. He had decided to face the rulers without his elven delegation. They were led to their quarters, practically falling asleep on their feet from magical exhaustion, while Eridor flew up to the Dragon Hold to take a nap. He actually had to forbid Rhunon from coming along after she said that she couldn't wait to test her old blacksmithing master's theory that dwarf spit fix a scratch in steel. Harry didn't want run the risk that she would ask King Hrothgar to lick something.

He stopped in front of the human and dwarf pair and gave a small bow, "Greetings King Hrothgar, Honorable Ajihad. I am Eonwe, the interim delegate of the elven queen, Islanzadi, and a Rider Master in my own right. I come bringing urgent news."

"Well met, Argetlam," Hrothgar's expression was as smooth as polished marble, while Ajihad wore a calculating look, akin to a miser trying to find the catch in an extraordinary deal. "We have much to discuss. Come! Let us retire to a place a little less formal. Ajihad and I have many questions."

Harry sighed internally. It already had been a long day… and it was just about to get longer.

Can anyone guess who Angela is? You'll find out in the next chapter.