Chapter 2: Inner battle
Hello again. If you're reading this, then I'll take it as a sign that I did something right in the first chapter. I also want to say thanks to all the compliments and feedback you've all given me.
A special thank you to Souvikkundu0017 for giving me a massive list of weapons from Type-Moon and from real world history to use. Also to my beta reader Kronos89.
Traveling through the night without rest was hard on the hobbits, Shirou noted. Yet, not once did they voice any complaints. Soon he felt it was his fault, it became obvious why, whenever they glanced back at him and then pushed forward with renewed vigor as if ignoring sleep was the best way to get to this Rivendell and it's medicine.
Shirou himself, while not the perfect example of health, could still keep pace. For now.
What Strider had said about the Morgul-blade only confirmed what Shirou had seen in the blade's history. It wasn't a weapon meant for fighting but for inflicting as much pain as possible. The brittle blade would chip off into the victim and slowly cut through their insides before stabbing the heart and transforming them into a wraith.
However, Shirou did not think their creator thought of a body made of swords. Even now the interlocking of blades inside him from Unlimited Blade Works formed a shield against the dark fragment preventing it from going any further. However, what he had stopped physically, he could not stop it's other properties. Poison was already in him from the moment he was cut and where the fragment was, he could feel a corrupting power slowly seep into him.
Although Avalon was still with him, it would never heal him without Saber's prana. Fortunately, it's holy property was curbing the cursed poison somewhat. 'Not that she'd ever allow them to hit her' Shirou's thoughts turned bitter while going over the battle for what felt like the hundredth time. He should have done something different to stop both attacks. As if reading his thoughts, the dark fragment attempted to push through his swords again. A muffled screech was heard by all as Shirou grunted and received concerned glances.
The wound was a constant pain. It didn't relent in it's purpose to hurt him, trying to drain him of all his strength and even his will until nothing was left but an empty husk. He wondered if this was what his father, Kiritsugu, felt for years after the holy grail cursed him.
Shirou was shaken out of his memories as Strider stopped and addressed everyone "This is far enough for now. Rivendell is still days away and your wound needs to be cleaned Emiya. And I think we all could do with some answers."
Nodding, Shirou eased himself down on a rock and began to disrobe his upper coat and armour as the hobbits laid their packs down and let the tension of the battle and the long trek slowly ease away.
"How did you do that?!" Well, almost all the hobbits that is.
"With those swords coming out of thin air and when those last two against the wraith and what about-" The young one that had introduced himself as Pippin was... well saying he was curious was an understatement.
"I don't think he can answer your question if you've already moved on to the next three Pippin." Merry, thankfully reigned his friend in which Shirou suspected was a common occurrence.
"Perhaps," Strider started as he looked over Shirou's wound bringing out fresh bandages. "It would be best to start from the beginning?"
Shirou sighed, his memory had offered him nothing new yet. "I honestly have no idea how I got here. All I remember is a few jumbled words and someone shouting my name before I ended up here. I saw a fire near the tower and went there for possible answers."
With the mention of a fire he felt Strider stop and look over his shoulder directly at the hobbits. "A fire you say?"
Wilting under the ranger's gaze, the three responsible couldn't offer much in their defense. Strider sighed before returning to work. "I must thank you. They're under my care but if not for your intervention I would have failed."
Without hesitation Shirou responded. "It was nothing. They were in danger and I was there to stop it. I only did what was right."
"Standing against a single Nazgul takes great courage but against five to protect people you had only just met is something truly special." Strider said as Shirou could only shrug, causing a lance of pain to shoot through his body. "And you've paid a great price for it."
Shirou stifled his pain before muttering to himself. "It's nothing new to me..."
Feeling like he was treading on something he shouldn't, Strider decided to focus on another important matter. "Those blades you used to slay the Nazgul, where did they go? Or could you make more somehow?"
Hearing a hopeful tone in Strider, Shirou could tell where this conversation would go. "Sorry but it's not so simple that I can just give them to you."
Undeterred Strider hopped to at least explain why it was so important. "The nine Nazgul have been a threat for centuries. Even if their bodies are destroyed their spirits retreat until they can walk again. You and your weapons have done what no one has ever been able to do."
Surprised and angry that he had let things so dangerous slip away Shirou resolved to find them and stop them once and for all but that was not now. Turning his head to Strider, he felt that since his magic was already known he could explain to an extent how it worked.
"You misunderstand me. It's not that I hold them somewhere you can't see them or I even truly create them, it's that I bring reality to concepts in my mind and use my magic to give them shape." Shirou explained. "However, the item will not last because it's not the original. What I make are fakes but with better understanding of the item the longer it will last but this type of magic is more for instant use rather then a prolonged one. Also, the the two swords you saw were actually one. I just made two of them and they weren't cheap on mana to make, so if you had thoughts of equipping an army, I'm sorry but I can't do that."
Slightly dispirited Strider went back to bandaging Shirou's wound allowing the hobbits to fill their curiosity. "What was it? The sword I mean. It looked special Mr. Shirou." Merry had spoken up.
Thinking it was odd to be referred in such a way, the realization suddenly hit Shirou so hard he thought Rin might've been next to him smacking his thick head. Chuckling at the thought, "Sorry but Emiya is my family name. Shirou is my first name." That got him some odd looks but it seemed that they went with it.
Turning back to Merry's question, Shirou decided to tell them. "Balmung was first held by prince Siegfried, the cursed holy sword of the Nibelungs. It was used to slay the dragon, Fafnir. Depending on who wields it, it can have an either demonic or holy appearance." Looking at each hobbit carefully, he saw awe in their eyes but that's it no recognition. Wanting to confirm his suspicions, he asked. "Have any of you heard of Japan, America, or Britain?"
Several no and shaking of heads was his only answer. Needing to be sure, Shirou decided to go over a few legends from all over the world. Yet, none of them had heard of any of those names or places. Finally accepting that he wasn't on Earth or at the very least in some kind of alternate timeline, Shirou continued to talk with the hobbits before they went to bed.
Strider stood up having finished the wrappings on Shirou's wound and gave their new companion the situation. "As far as I can tell, as long as you continue with your swords we'll reach Rivendell before you enter any serious condition."
Stretching his body to see if the bandages had impeded his range of motion in anyway, Shirou was glad that they didn't. He then looked to Strider with a serious expression. "Is it wise to camp here? I don't want to push them any further but those Nazgul made it clear this isn't over."
Strider nodded at the logic of his argument but reassured him otherwise. "They will make another attempt but only at their full strength which you've now reduced, so it will take time before they try anything. Get some rest. I'll take care of watch."
But Shirou wasn't done. "Another attempt at what, Strider? Are they after the same object that turned Frodo invisible? Can it do more than that?"
A conflicted look flashed across Strider's face. "It's a long story and I'd rather you get rest."
Not willing to budge in the slightest, Shirou argued. "You said it yourself for the time being I'm fine and I'd like to know what's going on and if there's anyway I can help."
Strider sighed. "You've already helped a great deal but... very well. I don't think you've hidden anything from us. It's only fair if I do the same." And so they sat down and the tale of the one ring was told.
Morning soon came and the hobbits awoke to a rather delicious smell and a rather strange sight.
"Sam." Frodo was the first to say anything.
"Yes, Mr. Frodo?"
"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"
"Yes, Mr. Frodo. I think I am."
If one was brave enough to ask Wizard Marshall Zelretch the truth of the universe, he'd probably have a rousing speech about how special everything was, where in every universe, there was something unique about it. Or just send that person to a world where mayonnaise ruled and killed any human on sight, if only to hide the truth that no matter where, when, or who he was, Shirou Emiya liked to cook.
Feeling eyes on him, Shirou looked up and felt the need to rub the back of his head. "Sorry. I was up with nothing to do and asked Strider if it was OK. He said yes." He said as he began to put portions in each plate. "I hope you all enjoy it." Shock wearing off, they each took a plate and dug in.
Needless to say, they enjoyed it. What Shirou didn't expect was each empty plate held in front of him asking for seconds. Flashbacks to the insatiable stomachs of a tiger and a knight, Shirou could only shudder at the thought that there was now four of them.
"Don't worry." Strider placed his hand on Shirou's shoulder. "You'll get used to it." Shirou could only droop his shoulders sighing. "That's the thing. I already am."
For the rest of the journey to Rivendell, Shirou continued share things about himself or the legends behind some of his swords as the hobbits and Strider did as well. Hearing about all of the different things in this new world he couldn't but be in awe. Elves, dwarves, men, hobbits, orcs and dragons just to name a few of the races that called this place home. To him, it sounded like medieval Europe with kings and kingdoms. Magic was also well known to exist, putting Shirou at ease whether or not he should keep a Traced Kanshou and Bakuya to hide his abilities.
Not only did he learn about the world but his travel companions as well. Just like he suspected, Pippin and Merry were trouble makers through and through, and received a lot of lectures from him, though he doubted it did much good. Sam, Frodo's gardener, was 'punished' for eavesdropping and he was to accompany Frodo to Rivendell. He was also the one most captivated by his stories and was a bit of a cook himself, so it was fun for Shirou to trade recipes with him. Frodo was slightly withdrawn but with what he carried, Shirou wasn't surprised. However, he had a feeling that the hobbit felt guilty for his wound. Whenever he looked Shirou's way, he really wouldn't look at him but the bandages on him. Shirou tried to put the hobbit at ease saying it was nothing and he'd do it again without thought but it seemed that only made things worse.
Stopping for the night, Shirou watched as Frodo collapsed like a sack before placing his hand in his pocket, fiddling with the ring. Even though Strider was very adamant in that the ring had to reach Rivendell, he couldn't help but wonder if he could destroy the Nazgul, maybe he could do the same with the ring.
"Frodo." The hobbit looked up from the trance he seemed to have been stuck in. "Can I see the ring?" The amount of emotions that appeared on his face was worrisome to Shirou. Nevertheless, if he could get rid of the ring he knew he'd be sparing Frodo from a lot pain. "I might be able to Trace something that can destroy it."
Reluctantly Frodo did reach into his pocket and pull out the ring. Honestly, to Shirou, it looked like nothing more then a simple gold ring with an inscription around it. Then he used Structural Grasp on it.
Evil.
That was the only word he had for it. Everything about it. Every action it took, it was purely for evil. When Gilgamesh had pulled out Ea, Shirou couldn't look away from it because he couldn't understand it. This ring however, it was as if it told him how it was made, what was needed to make it all over again, as if it was alive.
"Shirou?" He heard a voice but it was quickly drowned out by the overwhelming amount of information. He... forgot what he was doing. No, he remembered he was going to Trace something. It wasn't a sword. It was a curved, round and powerful.
"Shirou!"
'Who was that?' He could barely think about anything else, only what he had to Trace. Why did have to Trace that?
'To help...'
He could...help if he Traced this.
He could help if he had this power.
"Trace on." The world went white.
"SHIROU!"
A ripple was felt across Middle Earth.
From the tower built of black, a single eye widened, feeling as if a second part of it's soul was born.
From the darkest depths, a creature laughed with glee knowing there was not one but two.
From the shadows, a voice cried out as they were tainted to their very core.
From inside Unlimited Blade Works, Shirou stared as the large gears had ceased their endless turning but no matter what he couldn't understand why it was so important to him. Looking around there were shadows, faded images of... 'rings', no... he gripped his head telling himself that was wrong. He knew it was wrong. He didn't make rings he made, he made... 'rings' . A haze clouded his mind as he struggled with what he was told and what he felt.
'Wield power, wield lives, save lives, wield me'
The voice resonated from within his very soul. It was compelling him to listen and why wouldn't he? He wanted to save people. With this power he could, he could become a...'king'.
King, something about that word shook him from within. An image of a king of knights flashed in his mind. This voice was wrong. He knew it's idea of a king was wrong but it didn't matter, he was not a king he was a -
'SUBMIT!'
The gears started to groan as if struggling against something.
'SUBMIT!'
It no longer tried to entice him. The voice wanted to change him. To corrupt him. Walking forward, he forced the pain in his head away. More memories pierced the foggy haze that this presence created.
A man with eyes of steel just like his own, trying to destroy him before accepting he was wrong. A young girl held her hand towards him, asking him if he was her Master. A man happy to save one life, his life. So happy, that he swore to carry the man's dream to be a - 'NO!' - hero of justice. This voice was not his own. No. It was his enemy. An enemy to his dream.
He stood on that hill of half images. All of them flickering trying to be seen. Gears struggling to move but still held back by the tiny object in front of his feet. Honestly, to him it looked like nothing more then a simple gold ring with an inscription around it. In an act of desperation of losing such a powerful servant, word after word it promised him. His dream, power to save everyone, power so he wouldn't have to choose who to save anymore, power to prevent his end on this hill, all he had to do was pick it up. His hand moved against his will towards the ring. He struggled against something that felt much bigger than him. His instincts yelling at him to stop before it's too late. His hand was just a finger brush away from picking it up before he saw the only other object that could be truly seen.
It was not a sword, or a ring, or any other weapon that seemed to belong here. It was a sheath.
"Avalon."
An unlimited number of swords, spears, axes, daggers, and every other weapon in his world suddenly crystallized, replacing the blurry images. Gears roaring to life began to spin as if they had never stopped and the fog lifted from his mind. Shirou stared at the evil object in front of him. The booming voice was nothing more then a desperate whisper now. Still, it wasn't enough. Instinctively, he reached for a western style two handed sword gilded gold and blue, a dazzling holy sword, with both hands raising it above his head. Shirou swung down, shattering the ring, causing the resulting blast to cover his world in white.
From the tower built of black, a single eye shook, none could tell whether from anger or pain.
From the darkest depths, a creature cried in sorrow, racing faster then ever before to his precious.
From the shadows, a figure could be seen moving forward. It's stance spoke more of a machine than human
Opening his eyes, Shirou found a sword pressed to his throat and a furious Strider holding it shouting. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" Looking at the ground, Shirou saw a golden ring in pieces before it dissipated into golden dust as it was picked up by the wind and blown away. Turning to Frodo he saw the hobbits together with a mixture of fear and concern but seeing how Frodo held his own hand confirmed that the ring that was destroyed was only a Projection. He still had the real one.
Feeling the sword being pushed slightly harder against his throat, Shriou realized he to had act fast. "I asked Frodo if I could see the ring so I could destroy it." His voice was calm and slow trying not to antagonize Strider. However, it seemed that the ranger wasn't going to have any of it.
"So instead of destroying it, you just made the single most dangerous object in all of Middle Earth!" He spat back. "You said you could make swords."
"And I can and many other weapons, even armour and shields. It's only that swords are the easiest to make." Well, common items as well but they would be empty without any of the quality that his swords would have but this isn't the time to explain it. In his mind there were several swords selected ready to fire from the air but he didn't want it to come to that, not if he could help it. "I swear to you, destroying it was my sole intention Strider."
Feeling the blade ever so slightly lift off his throat, he saw Strider study him as intently as Shirou would a sword before saying, "Explain it. All of it. Now." So he did, he told Strider how he analysed the ring which it then in turn used that to get inside his mind trying to tempt him to use it before he rejected it. Though he never told him how his soul looked or how it tried to use his memories against him, hoping to avoid that altogether.
For minutes, they all sat there not daring to break the tension until finally Strider spoke. "The ring is insidious in it's attempts to get back to it's master. To fight it off when it sounded so close to you is a true feat of strength. However, what you have just done can not be overlooked, Shirou." With that, Strider reached behind his back to pull out some rope never taking his sword away from Shirou's neck. "If you are true to your word you will not resist. I can not allow such a power to wander freely. You will come with me to Rivendell regardless of whether you want to or not."
OK, I think some explanations are in order yes I have given Shirou the ability to make the one ring but I also want to make it clear that it was a bad idea for him to do that even though it wasn't really his fault. Reading the books and watching the movies, it's stated many times that the ring has almost a mind of it's own so when Shirou scanned it he had an in depth look at the inner workings of the ring, basically looking directly at it's soul. The ring decided to use that and try to corrupt him inside his own soul.
Also, if you just saw the most dangerous object on your world being made just like that, wouldn't you take precautions as well? I want Aragorn to seem like he isn't going to take such chances while trying to understand. I mean if it wasn't someone as level headed as him they might've killed Shirou on the spot, that's what I'm trying to say
Oh, I also want your opinions on how much should I describe everything because this seems to be a pretty niche crossover that people will already know their stuff, so I don't want to bore you with things you already know.