As they moved away from the shadow of Mount Doom, Arthur glanced at Vaerion. "So, where are you from?"
Vaerion wiped the dried blood from his face and adjusted his grip on the projected sword Arthur had given him. "Lothlórien. It is my home."
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Lothlórien, huh? That's the elven forest, right? How far is it from here?"
Vaerion nodded. "It will take us several days on foot. Lothlórien lies west of the Misty Mountains, past the great river Anduin. The journey will not be easy."
Arthur sighed. "Figures. Nothing's ever easy. What's Lothlórien like?"
A faint smile crossed Vaerion's face. "It is the fairest of all elven realms. A land of golden trees that never wither, where time moves slower, and the stars shine brighter. The Lady of Light, Galadriel, watches over it, ensuring no shadow taints its beauty."
Arthur whistled. "Sounds like a paradise. Guess I'll see for myself soon."
As they continued their journey, Arthur glanced at Vaerion, who seemed lost in thought. "You okay?"
Vaerion nodded. "It has been long since I have seen my home. I fear what may have changed in my absence."
Arthur smirked. "Well, if anything's wrong, we'll just fix it. Simple as that."
Vaerion chuckled softly. "You say that as if it is so easy."
Arthur shrugged. "I've been through worse." He then looked up at the sky. "So, what should I expect when we get there? Elves staring at me like I'm some kind of intruder?"
Vaerion hesitated. "Perhaps. My people do not easily trust outsiders, especially one who carries a blade of darkness. The presence of that shard... it will not go unnoticed."
Arthur looked at Voidbane's hilt, now wrapped in cloth to suppress its aura. "Great. Guess I'll just have to charm my way in."
Vaerion gave him a doubtful look. "Good luck with that."
Arthur and Vaerion traveled through dense forests and winding rivers, following hidden elven paths that only Vaerion knew. The air grew lighter as they neared Lothlórien, filled with an almost otherworldly presence.
Arthur glanced at Vaerion. "How much longer?"
"Not far," Vaerion replied. "Lothlórien exists outside the passage of time in some ways. The Golden Wood is protected by the Lady's magic."
Arthur raised a brow. "Sounds fancy. Think they'll welcome me?"
Vaerion sighed. "That depends entirely on how you present yourself."
---
As they moved deeper into the golden woods of Lothlórien, Arthur suddenly felt Voidbane tremble in his grip. A sharp pull, like an unseen force tugging at him, made him halt mid-step.
Vaerion noticed his hesitation and turned to him with a questioning look. "What is it?"
Arthur narrowed his eyes, gripping the hilt tighter. "I think one of the shards is here… inside Lothlórien. And if Voidbane is reacting this strongly, that means someone already has it."
Vaerion's expression darkened. "If someone in Lothlórien possesses a shard, that could be… problematic. The elves do not take kindly to dangerous relics, and if they know what it is, they might refuse to part with it."
Arthur sighed. "Figures. It's never easy, is it?" He glanced at the shimmering trees ahead. "How long until we reach your city?"
"Not long," Vaerion replied. "We are close to Caras Galadhon, where Lady Galadriel resides. If anyone knows about the shard, it will be her."
As they walked deeper into the golden woods of Lothlórien, the air itself felt lighter, filled with an ethereal glow. Arthur could sense the shift in atmosphere—this place was unlike any other he had seen in Middle-earth. The trees stood impossibly tall, their silver trunks and golden leaves whispering with a voice only the wind could understand.
Vaerion led the way with familiarity, but his expression remained cautious. "We will soon be met by the wardens. Stay alert—they will not attack, but they will not be welcoming either."
Arthur nodded. "Got it. So, what should I expect from Lady Galadriel?"
Vaerion hesitated before answering. "She is wise beyond comprehension. She sees much—perhaps more than even you realize about yourself."
Arthur frowned. "Great. Another cryptic all-knowing figure. Just what I needed."
Vaerion chuckled. "Trust me, it is better to have her as an ally than an enemy."
Before Arthur could respond, the trees ahead rustled, and a group of elven sentinels emerged, bows drawn. A tall elf stepped forward, eyes sharp as he addressed Vaerion.
"You return at last, brother—but not alone. Who is this outsider?"
Vaerion stepped forward, raising a hand to calm the sentinels. "Stand down. He is no enemy. This is Arthur, my companion and savior."
The lead elf lowered his bow slightly but remained wary. "You bring an outsider to Lothlórien? He carries a dark presence with him."
Arthur sighed, gripping Voidbane's hilt. "Yeah, yeah, I get that a lot. Look, I'm just here to escort Vaerion back and speak with Lady Galadriel. Also… I think something I'm looking for is here."
The elf studied him for a long moment before stepping aside. "Come. But be warned—Lady Galadriel will see through you."
Arthur smirked. "She can try."
As they moved forward, Arthur once again felt Voidbane's pull, stronger than before. Someone in Lothlórien had a shard—and he was about to find out who.
They were soon led toward Caras Galadhon, the heart of Lothlórien, where Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn resided. As they ascended the winding stairs to the grand talan, Arthur felt Voidbane tremble in his grasp.
Galadriel was waiting. And she already knew why he had come.
Galadriel stood at the center of the talan, her piercing gaze meeting Arthur's. Though she remained composed, Arthur could sense the weight of her knowledge—she already understood what he sought.
"You have come for something dangerous," she said, her voice like a whisper in the wind.
Arthur tightened his grip on Voidbane's hilt. "One of the shards is here, isn't it?"
Galadriel nodded slowly. "It has been kept hidden, sealed away from those who would seek its power. But now, its fate is uncertain."
Galadriel's expression remained serene, but there was a flicker of concern in her eyes.
Arthur crossed his arms. "Sealed? I don't think so. If this sword is as dangerous as I suspect, you can't just lock it away and expect it to stay put." He gestured toward Voidbane's hilt, which pulsed faintly in his grip. "This thing is reacting to something. Someone here has the real shard."
Galadriel remained silent for a moment before exhaling softly. "Then it seems the deception runs deeper than I thought."
Vaerion looked uneasy. "Lady Galadriel, is there anyone who has come into contact with the shard? Anyone acting strangely?"
Galadriel's gaze turned toward the heart of Lothlórien. "There is one... A warrior of our kin, once steadfast, now troubled. He has grown distant, his thoughts clouded. If the shard influences him, we must act swiftly before its corruption takes hold."
Arthur clenched Voidbane's hilt. "Then let's go find him."
Vaerion and Arthur followed Galadriel through the golden woods of Lothlórien, moving toward a secluded glade where the troubled warrior resided. As they approached, Arthur could already sense it—Voidbane's hilt pulsed in his grip, reacting to the shard's presence.
The elf in question stood near a shimmering pool, his hands trembling as he gripped the hilt of a sword. His silver eyes flickered with unnatural darkness.
Arthur stepped forward. "You have something that doesn't belong to you."
The elf turned sharply, his gaze sharp and wary. "And who are you to decide that?"
Arthur's eyes locked onto the elf's trembling hands. The shard's influence was unmistakable—dark tendrils of energy coiled around the elf's grip like living shadows.
"You're resisting it," Arthur observed, stepping closer. "But it won't let go, will it?"
Galadriel's voice was calm but firm. "The shard has tainted him. It whispers in his mind, feeding his doubts, his fears."
The elf's breathing was ragged. "I sealed it away! I—I thought I could contain it!"
Arthur shook his head. "You can't contain something like this."
The elf hesitated before pulling off his upper garments, revealing the shard embedded deep into his chest, just above his heart. The dark fragment pulsed with a sinister glow, its jagged edges fused with his flesh like a parasitic growth. Blackened veins spread outward from the wound, as if the shard was corrupting him from within.
Arthur narrowed his eyes. "That's not just attached—it's feeding off you."
The elf clenched his fists. "I tried to resist… but its whispers never stop."
Arthur studied the shard embedded in the elf's chest, its dark glow pulsating like a heartbeat. He could feel Voidbane reacting to it, pulling him closer.
"This isn't just corruption," Arthur muttered. "It's bonded to you."
The elf gritted his teeth. "I know. It's been inside me for weeks, sealed as best as we could manage. But the seal weakens. The whispers… they grow louder."
Arthur exhaled. "Then we need to remove it. And fast."
The elf looked at him, eyes filled with both hope and fear. "Can you?"
Arthur studied the shard, his mind racing through possible methods of extraction. "I can," he said, voice firm. "But it's not going to be painless."
The elf exhaled sharply. "I expected as much."
Arthur placed a hand near the shard, channeling his magic. The moment his energy touched it, a violent pulse of dark power erupted, sending a sharp pain through the elf's body.
The elf gritted his teeth, his body trembling. "Do it!"
Arthur reinforced his grip. "Hold on," he muttered, beginning the extraction.
Arthur focused, channeling his magic carefully. The shard pulsed violently, resisting his pull like a living parasite digging deeper. The elf's breathing turned ragged, sweat forming on his brow.
"Almost there," Arthur muttered, reinforcing his grip with mana. With a final surge of power, he yanked the shard free. Dark energy burst outward, and the elf collapsed, gasping for air.
Arthur examined the shard in his hand, its dark surface slick with blood and pulsing with lingering malice. He exhaled sharply.
"That's three down," he muttered, watching as the once-parasitic shard shrank slightly, as if acknowledging its return to Voidbane. "Four more to go."
The elf, still trembling from the ordeal, steadied himself against a nearby pillar. "Is it… over?" he asked weakly.
Arthur nodded. "For now. But things are only going to get harder from here."
Arthur examined the elf's blackened skin, the corruption spreading like veins of darkness beneath the surface. His once-vibrant complexion had turned ashen, and his blood, thick and tar-like, oozed from his wounds instead of flowing naturally. The shard's prolonged presence had warped his body, leaving behind traces of its lingering malice.
Arthur narrowed his eyes. "This isn't just a wound… it's a curse," he muttered. If the shard had done this to him, what kind of effect would the remaining pieces have on those who possessed them?
Arthur turned to Lady Galadriel, his expression resolute. "I can remove the curse," he said, his voice firm yet measured. "But not here. He'll need to come with me for a while—somewhere I can properly deal with the shard's corruption."
Galadriel studied him, her piercing gaze searching for any sign of deception. After a moment, she nodded. "Very well," she said. "But understand, Arthur Wayne, his life is in your hands. Should you fail, the darkness within him will only grow stronger."
Arthur nodded before turning his attention back to the elf, his expression softening just enough to show his sincerity. He extended a hand toward him, offering support.
"Name's Arthur," he said with a slight grin. "And for the foreseeable future, I'll be your medic. Try not to make my job harder than it needs to be, yeah?"
The elf hesitated for a moment, then slowly clasped Arthur's hand, his eyes filled with both relief and uncertainty. Arthur knew this was just the beginning of their battle against the shard's corruption.
The elf took a deep breath before finally speaking. "My name is Aerandir," he said, his voice steady despite the exhaustion evident in his posture. His silver eyes met Arthur's, reflecting both gratitude and lingering pain.
"Thank you, Arthur. I do not know why fate has brought you here, but... I am in your debt."
Arthur gave him a reassuring nod. "Just focus on staying alive, Aerandir. We'll deal with everything else when the time comes."
Arthur extended his hand, drawing a shimmering portal into existence. The swirling energy cast a faint glow over the dimly lit forest, its surface rippling like liquid glass.
He turned to Aerandir, who hesitated, eyeing the portal with a mix of awe and uncertainty. "Come on," Arthur said, nodding toward the gateway. "This will be faster than any elven magic you know. Trust me."
Aerandir took a deep breath, then stepped forward, following Arthur into the unknown.
Inside Arthur's universe, the air was noticeably lighter, free of the oppressive weight of Mordor's corruption. Aerandir took a deep breath, his body already feeling a slight relief from the lingering curse.
Arthur crossed his arms and asked, "So, do you want to be healed instantly, or do you prefer to recover gradually?"
Aerandir frowned. "What do you mean by 'instantly'?"
Arthur smirked and pulled out Excalibur. "I'll cut off your corrupted skin, then heal you in an instant."
Aerandir immediately took a step back. "Absolutely not. Even if it's painless, I'd rather take the slow treatment."
Arthur shrugged. "Suit yourself." With a wave of his hand, a steaming hot spring materialized before them, the water glowing faintly with restorative energy. "Bathe here for at least an hour daily. It'll cleanse the corruption over time."
Aerandir hesitated, then nodded. "Thank you, Arthur."
Arthur waved him off. "Yeah, yeah, just don't drown."
Arthur leaned back against a nearby rock, watching as Aerandir tested the warm waters of the hot spring. After a brief moment of silence, he spoke up.
"I might need your help anyway—to navigate your world."
Aerandir glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "You've already traveled across it quite well on your own."
Arthur shrugged. "Sure, but I'd rather have a guide than wander aimlessly. Besides, you know the people, the history, and the places where the remaining shards might be hidden."
Aerandir sighed, then gave a small nod. "Fair enough."
---Note
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