Echoes of Grace: A Convergence of Fates

by Patcifist

When a desperate cry from across the cosmos calls to Phaeyrn, the new Elden Lord, and Ranni, ascended god of The Lands Between, the duo finds themselves in a world bereft of Grace and where the gods are relics of a bygone age. But as they travel through this "Middle Earth," they will find that not all is what it seems and that something nefarious lurks in shadow. ER x LoTR

4. Chapter 4

By all accounts, this was a beautiful forest.

Never before had I seen such a vibrant display of nature. Forests in The Lands Between were few and far between, with Mistwood not even being able to compare to the beauty shown here. The only place that I could think of that could be similar to the forest of Lothlórien were certain areas in the Altus Plateau, though most of the trees in the golden lands were flattened and destroyed as a result of the Shattering Wars.

The air was alight in a myriad of gold and orange, the setting sun turning the sky ablaze in a gorgeous show. Trees stood tall and graceful all around us, their silver-barked trunks glimmering in the dimming light, and their branches sang with the sounds of the wind and melodic tunes of chirping birds. A soft, golden glow filtered through the thick canopy above, basking us in warmth as our lungs filled with the scent of fresh earth and fallen leaves.

It all tasted like ashes on my tongue.

The beauty, the light, the air; none of it mattered to me. I just felt empty, and all I could think about as the sun crested over the horizon was that Gandalf should have been here to see it for himself.

I was sure I wasn't the only one who felt this way. Scarcely a word had been said since we had escaped the clutches of Moria, even if there was now no immediate danger nor the threat of being overheard. For hours now we had been walking on a cleverly hidden path deep in the woods, with Aragorn and Legolas taking point. But aside from their occasional warnings to not stray off the trail, they said nothing, only stopping to give brief looks over their shoulders to ensure that we were following closely behind.

The rest of us hung back as we hopped over bubbling creeks and mossy logs. Gimli and I often had to help the hobbits keep up, not for their lack of knowledge in how to navigate through thick woods, but rather that they were growing increasingly exhausted. The debacle in Moria was only a few hours behind us, and it was beginning to take a toll on the poor boys. Their faces were still covered in dust and grime, and they stumbled forward with a glazed look in their expressions. Not to mention they were still deep in grief and sorrow, with every single one of them still red-eyed and puffy-faced.

Though none of them seemed to be taking it as hard as Frodo.

The hobbit looked more like a reanimated corpse than a living being as he lurched forward, with every footfall dragging as if he could no longer care enough to put more energy in the movement. His eyes were still just a hair too wide, and his gaze lingered on things just a bit longer than what was necessary.

I beat back a sigh. I knew Frodo and Gandalf were close. From the excited stories Merry and Pippin had told me of the Shire, the wizard seemed to be a frequent guest, often staying for weeks at a time to enjoy the hospitality of Frodo's uncle. And since Bilbo adopted Frodo when he was a child, the two had plenty of opportunities to build a strong bond, with the old mage even taking up the mantle of being his de facto godfather.

I didn't miss how Gandalf used to be so fond of the young hobbit, always offering him sage advice or giving him a twinkling smile. No one else in our group had a bond so close, aside from mine and Ranni's, though that was a clearly much different relationship than the one he and Frodo had.

The pain of his loss would dull with time. I knew this well. But the memories would remain, etched deep, and would change him forever. All we could do was give him space to grieve.

A slow movement caught my attention, and I shot a side-eye at Gimli, who was making his way to me after helping haul Sam up a sharp incline. I raised an eyebrow as he approached, my gaze questioning as he awkwardly opened and closed his mouth, as if he was having trouble formulating the words.

Eventually, Gimli cleared his throat and grumbled, "Well, lass," he began, his voice gruff but curious, breaking the heavy silence that was settled over the group, "I've been meaning to ask you about that bit of sorcery you pulled off back there." He waved his free hand over his head when I blinked. "The dragon. Where in the world did you learn something like that?"

"You also have dragons here?" I was surprised. If he knew what dragons were, then I was wondering why we haven't run into any yet, unless they were exceptionally rare. The heat and fire of the mines would have been a prime spot for one to make its nest.

He shook his head. "Dragons have been gone from these lands for an age," Gimli replied, his tone suddenly taking on a sharp edge, "The last great drake, Smaug the Terrible, was slain by my kin almost 80 years ago, when we reclaimed the Kingdom of Erebor. No dragon has been seen since then." He shot me a pointed look. "Until now."

That was interesting. While dragons were not exactly common in The Lands Between—aside from Farum Azula, where they were as numerous as flies on a corpse—they were still a present and dangerous threat. The fact that Gimli had said so assuredly that the dragons were all gone meant they were extremely low in number to begin with or that they had been hunted to extinction.

But, I could dwell on that later. I found myself a bit thankful to finally be talking about something, especially if that something wasn't related to our recent loss. Gimli had definitely thrown out the question like a lifeline, to distract us from the horrors that we had seen. I was more than happy to oblige. Even if that meant diving into a past that I did not exactly look fondly upon. "Dragon incantations are…tricky. I'll have to tell you a bit about myself first."

That thankfully received the reaction I was hoping for. Heads turned to face me with mild interest sparking in their eyes. Even Frodo looked up, though it seemed he was reacting to a sudden stimuli rather than comprehending what I was saying.

Talking about myself was a topic that never really came up all that much during our journey to Moria all those days ago. I was busy regaling them about The Lands Between and its history rather than exactly what I've been up to during all that time. Not that I didn't trust them enough to do so; it was just that the opportunity scarcely came. I was pretty sure I wasn't even able to tell them I was Elden Lord yet.

I breathed in the warm air, still feeling the loss of my beloved helm. "I wasn't exactly the most… stable Tarnished among my peers," I began, the words catching slightly, "I was angry all the time, furious that I'd been dragged to The Lands Between for some quest I couldn't care less about. And waking up with no memories of who I was before? That only made it worse." I let out a bitter scoff. "Looking back, I realize it wasn't anger at all. I was just terrified. But instead of facing it, I buried it under violence, convincing myself that fighting was the only way to survive."

"I got a bit of a reputation as a wild card in the Roundtable Hold. I was always looking for a way to get stronger, so I didn't have to feel scared all the time whenever I fought someone or something." I mindlessly touched my cheek, tracing the scar that ran down my face. "Eventually, I crossed paths with some other Tarnished who claimed they could offer me that strength. They called themselves the Dragon Communion."

Gimli shivered slightly at the mention, his discomfort palpable. It was clear he harbored a deep-seated aversion to dragons, whether from personal experience or something passed down through his kin, I couldn't tell. "They promised me power beyond anything I'd ever known," I said, the memory still vivid. "But to gain that power, I had to consume the hearts of dragons."

A wave of shocked looks rippled through the group, and I flinched at the mild revulsion on their faces—especially Gimli's, who muttered something in Dwarvish that sounded like a curse. "I felt the same way," I admitted, "I thought they were crazy, just a bunch of cultists clinging to some ancient tradition. I was ready to walk away, but then one of them summoned the arm of a dragon and shattered a boulder to dust right in front of me."

I paused. "I was amazed. Dragons were some of the most powerful beings in The Lands Between, and the idea that I could have that kind of power... it was impossible to refuse." As I spoke, I felt Ranni's presence brush against my mind, cool and comforting. "The first dragon I felled was named Agheel. It took me days of dying, over and over, before I finally managed to kill him. But even when I tore his heart from his chest, I still had doubts. How could eating this thing give me power?"

The fellowship looked a bit green, but their eyes were locked on me, even Frodo's. "But I was desperate, so I did it. I went to one of the Dragon Communion's temples and ate the heart." A shiver ran through me as I recalled the sensation, my body still remembering the rush of pure, overwhelming power. "It felt like my blood turned to fire. When I screamed, a dragon's head formed around my head and I nearly burned down the entire temple. I felt unstoppable."

"I got addicted to the rush. For years I scoured The Lands Between, killing every dragon I could find. Big, small, young, old, healthy, sick, none of it mattered." I faced Gimli, who was listening on with morbid fascination. "Some of the ordinary dragons didn't hold much use to me, I just killed them because I could. But a few of them were unique, ranging from being able to breathe magic, ice, magma, even a terrible poison called the Scarlet Rot, and eating their hearts gave me their abilities. These were the ones I hunted down, and I was damn good at it."

"But why?" Sam asked, his voice full of concern. He blushed a bit when Gimli gave him a puzzled look. The dwarf seemed almost impressed by my actions despite still being unsettled by the whole 'eating hearts' business. "I mean, in the old stories, dragons were always evil. But that can't be the way it is where you're from, right? Couldn't you have let some of them be?"

I nodded slowly. "They weren't. And I could have. But I didn't." My hand instinctively grasped my arm as phantom pains from countless bites, slashes, and burns flared up. "I need to make this clear: I wasn't a good person. Fear wasn't an excuse for my actions. I could have chosen a different path, but I didn't. I decided to focus solely on myself, damn everyone and everything else. My own safety was all that mattered to me.

"Turns out that having that mindset came at a cost. The cultists never warned me or anyone else in the communion that eating too many dragon hearts would slowly turn you into a Magma Wyrm—a twisted creature, part lizard, part dragon, cursed with the worst traits of both." The fellowship exchanged shocked looks. "I should have figured sooner that eating dragon hearts would have horrible side-effects. Arcane powers are tricky, and I was dumb enough not to pay them any attention. By my guess, I was only a few hearts away from turning into one permanently."

"You can't…change into one right now, can you?" Pippin asked haltingly.

I couldn't help but smile. "I hope not. Actually, I was called into service by a good friend of mine—an honorable warrior named Blaidd—on my way to hunt a dragon. I'd crossed paths with him a few times before, and he was always decent to me, even when I wasn't exactly pleasant company. This time, he needed help tracking down a knight who'd turned traitor, and I was more than happy to join him. Gave me a good chance to test out some of my new powers. Never got to continue my hunt after that."

"Why not?"

I heard Ranni give a soft huff, by far the most pleasant sound she'd made since the mines. "Blaidd eventually asked if he could introduce me to his liege. Said my skills would be of great use to her, and that I'd be rewarded with new incantations and power. Naturally, I couldn't turn that down. Plus, I was always curious to find out who this mysterious person was that he'd sworn his loyalty to. I bet you can all guess who it turned out to be."

There were nods all around as the fellowship cast knowing glances at the doll hidden in my satchel. "Turns out, Ranni had a dragon in her service too. Let's just say Adula wasn't exactly thrilled to see the infamous dragon hunter walking into her territory. We nearly tore each other apart before Ranni stepped in. I've never seen her more furious with me in my entire life."

"Goddess Ranni was able to tame a dragon?" Gimli exclaimed, his bushy brows shooting up in surprise. "Now that must've been a sight. I'd wager few in this world could claim such a feat."

I shrugged. "Tame might be a bit of a stretch. It was more like beating her into submission, then earning respect over time." I continued despite the small brain freeze Ranni sent my way. "Dragons value strength above all else, and once Ranni proved she was the one in charge, Adula swore loyalty to her." I smiled at the memory. "It was actually through meeting Adula later on that I realized how wrong I'd been. Our introduction was...rough, to say the least, but she eventually became a good friend. That's when I swore off dragon hunting for good. Now, I only use their powers if the situation calls for it."

Boromir turned slightly, his boots crunching softly on the fallen leaves. "While I can't say I approve of your past actions," he began, his voice measured, "I cannot deny that you saved us all from the Balrog. For that, you have my thanks. Your courage in that moment was nothing short of remarkable."

I flinched inwardly, resisting the urge to remind him that I hadn't saved all of us. Instead, I offered a faint smile, knowing that the time for self-reproach would come later, when we were all ready to face our grief. I turned back to Gimli. "Tell me about Smaug," I said, eager to shift the subject. "I'm curious if dragons here are any different than the ones where I'm from."

Gimli happily obliged, diving into a grandiose retelling of his Dwarven kin losing their kingdom under the Lonely Mountain in the face of the terrible foe. He recounted the suffering of his people as they fought to retake their home and the eventual defeat of the dragon at the hands of a masterful bowman. The rest of the fellowship allowed themselves to be sucked into the story, with a few of the hobbits even chiming in to offer corrections or add details from Bilbo's own perspective. Though they still faltered a bit whenever the subject of Gandalf came up, who was also apparently part of this grand quest for a significant portion of it.

After listening to Gimli's story and adding in a few questions of my own, I was more than surprised to figure out that Smaug was enormous. Definitely not as big as Greyoll, but more than big enough to dwarf most of the dragons in The Lands Between. I didn't know whether to take Gimli's insistence on his titanic size at face value—since he was a dwarf and most things must have seemed big to them—but if it was true, then Smaug could have been almost as large as one of the ancient lichdragons. Obviously not as powerful, since Smaug only seemed to be able to breathe fire, but enough to throw his weight around and be seen. Younger me would have been obsessed with hunting him down.

I was somewhat glad when our talks took us deeper into the dusk as we trotted through the forest, which was now only lit up with the dying light of the sun. By this point, most of the group were in quiet discussion, either talking more of the quest to retake Erebor or about the many legends of battles with previous dragons. I almost scoffed with disbelief when Legolas claimed that there once existed a dragon as large as an entire godsdamn mountain region, an immensely powerful and ancient beast called Ancalagon the Black. I would believe it when I saw the thing's corpse with my own eyes.

But it was good that we were actually talking at this point. I knew that we needed to have some distractions to keep us moving, and despite knowing that we would have to face reality later on, we could at least fall back into old habits to lessen the impact.

Ranni and I listened with interest as Gimli's tone grew hushed and guarded the deeper we ventured into the woods. The stretching shadows made him look more ominous than usual. "Alright, stay close to me now, young hobbits," he whispered, though the volume was almost as loud as his regular speaking voice. "They say a great sorceress dwells in these woods. An elf witch of terrible power. All who look upon her fall under her spell…" He cast a wary glance in our direction. "And are never seen again."

I would have found it amusing when Legolas nearly groaned from his place at the front, telling Gimli that Lady Galadriel was 'no witch, but a fair and gentle queen who has guided our people for ages,' but my attention shifted quickly to Frodo, whose behavior had changed quite abruptly. He had nearly come to a halt mid-step, his eyes wide as he glanced around in distress. I frowned, stepping closer to him. It was as if he were hearing something, though nothing had triggered any warning within my senses.

I reached out to him slowly, fully intent on figuring out what was causing this behavior, when it happened.

I stiffened, the hairs on the back of my neck rising as a chill swept through me—not from the evening air, but from something far more unsettling. My breath hitched, and for a moment, my heart seemed to stutter to a stop. A completely foreign presence brushed against the edges of my consciousness, subtle yet unmistakable. The tendril of thought tapped at the barriers of my mind, probing away for any opening in an effort to slip in. It was a sensation completely at odds with the familiar feeling of Ranni's cooling presence.

Every nerve in my body screamed out, my instincts flaring to life. Whoever or whatever this was was fully intent on looking into my head. It didn't matter if it felt curious rather than malicious. It was here, and I needed it out. Now.

Ranni's presence sharpened in an instant, her initial confusion giving way to something more defensive as she too sensed the intruder. In a blink of an eye, my body surged with energy as she quickly cast a spell, her magic combining with my own will. A chilling wave of power washed over my mind, immediately burying my consciousness under thick shields of magic and frost, unyielding and resolute. Ranni worked with a precision befitting of a master sorceress as her spell sealed me off from the invasive presence. I also pushed back with every ounce of strength I could muster, my spirit snarling and snapping as it grabbed at the intruder, wrenching it away from my mind and expelling its unwarranted visit. For a split second, I caught a fleeting sense of pure shock and surprise radiating from the invader before the doors to my mind slammed shut like iron-wrought doors, blocking out anything that wasn't me or Ranni from sharing the same space.

The fellowship jolted as a dagger suddenly materialized in my hand, the blade's edge glowing softly as wisps of flame danced along its length. Instinctively, I shifted into a defensive stance, my movements fluid as I shoved Frodo and the rest of the hobbits behind me. My gaze darted through the treeline with fierce intensity as my senses were boosted instantly with Ranni's magic.

Gimli, mid-sentence, faltered and took an involuntary step back, his eyes widening as the Erdsteel Dagger flared to life in my hand. Aragorn moved forward, his expression a mix of concern and caution as I scoured every bush and boulder around us, searching for the threat. "Phaeryn, what's wro—"

He didn't even get a chance to finish when I suddenly dropped low, my eyes locking onto an unnatural shape hidden in the shadows of a nearby bush. Without hesitation, my free hand plunged forward into the foliage with blistering speed, my fingers wrapping tightly around what was unmistakably someone's leg. With a sharp yank, I dragged them out from their hiding place as twigs and leaves scattered from the bush, accompanied by a startled gasp from whoever I had just pulled out.

My knee was pressed against the intruder's chest and my dagger hovered over his throat faster than anyone could blink. My gaze clouded with confusion when a young man gawked up at me, his golden hair splaying across the ground to reveal distinctly pointed ears. An elf?

He made to speak, but my knee pressed harder into his chest, the flickering flames of the dagger casting wild shadows across his face. He swallowed hard, wisely choosing to shut up when my expression hardened. The fellowship gasped when they saw the elf, with Legolas stepping forward to clearly try and diffuse the situation.

That opportunity never came when a sudden tension rippled through the air. My instincts screamed out a warning just as the whispers of movement reached my ears. Before I could even raise my head, the familiar sound of bows being drawn taut cut through the quiet. I glared upwards to see no less than five arrows pointed directly at my face, all held by the unnaturally steady hands of Elven archers surrounding me. A cursory look revealed that more archers surrounded the fellowship as well, all of them materializing from the underbrush like ghosts.

I snarled when a few of the elves took a small step forward. I brought the dagger closer to the pinned elf's throat, his pale skin growing red under the heat of the blade. "Make a move, I dare you." I hissed, feeling some sort of dark satisfaction at seeing them hesitate.

In hindsight, this was probably one of the more stupid decisions I'd made. We were hopelessly surrounded, and aside from me and Legolas, no one else even had their weapons drawn. It would take less than a blink for us to be turned into pincushions, the arrows cutting us down before we could react. Antagonizing the elves only made the situation worse.

But I didn't care. I was furious. Someone had tried to breach my mind with a spell. Maybe that was acceptable here, in this strange, foreign world, but to me, it was an almost unforgivable sin. No one aside from Ranni had the authority to join my thoughts. No one was allowed to step foot into my memories and my mind. Not anymore.

"Wait!" Aragorn's voice cut through the tension, his hands raised placatingly. "She means no harm!"

I wasn't so sure about that. My grip on the elf remained tight, my dagger still hovering near his throat. His chest heaved slightly beneath me, the panic in his eyes slowly giving way to grim acceptance when he saw that I was undaunted.

"Release him," came a firm voice from behind me, commanding yet calm. I turned my head just enough to catch a glimpse of a tall, golden-haired elf, clad in robes made of soft, muted fabrics. It somehow blended seamlessly into the forest despite its largely gray hue, and a flowing cloak was fastened to it with a brooch in the shape of a leaf. The elf, whom I assumed was the leader of the group, stared me down, his gaze imperious. "You are holding captive a protector of this realm. If you do not wish to suffer severe consequences, you will set him free at once."

For a long moment, no one moved. Neither of our gazes wavered, mine one of fire and anger, his one dangerously calm. "One of you tried to look into my head," I said, my voice low and firm, "You're going to tell me who, then I might let this one go."

I didn't miss how the elf's eyes widened ever so slightly, though he didn't respond aside from tightening his grip on his own bow. He definitely knew something about the one who tried to break into my mind. The fact he didn't look at any of the other elves was telling: the one who cast the spell wasn't here.

Aragorn shuffled slowly towards me, his hands still raised as the arrows followed his every movement. "Phaeryn, it's alright," he said, his voice measured and careful, "They are not our enemies."

Legolas also stepped closer, lowering his bow in surrender as he cast a calm glance down at me. "Peace, Phaeryn. The presence you sensed is likely from Lady Galadriel herself. Trust in me when I say she means no harm."

Ranni's disapproval echoed sharply in my mind, matching my own. From everything I had heard about Lady Galadriel from both Gandalf and Legolas, she was revered as a fair and just ruler, endlessly kind and wise beyond measure. But the fact that she seemed perfectly comfortable with invading people's minds without permission caused my opinion of her to plummet rapidly. For all her supposed wisdom, she apparently had none involving general decency and privacy.

I glanced up at Aragorn, his eyes silently pleading with me to follow his lead and surrender. Slowly, I turned to see the rest of the fellowship quietly complying, each of them watching me with tense urgency, as if my defiance would get us in even further trouble.

After what felt like an eternity, I sighed once, finally relaxing my grip. I rose to my feet in a swift, fluid motion, never taking my eyes off the rest of the archers. I glared at their leader once more as the elf I had pinned scrambled up to his feet with significantly more grace than I had expected, brushing off leaves and dirt with a dignity that I guess all elves just intrinsically had. His eyes never left the glowing dagger in my grasp, which I didn't bother to displace just yet.

The circle of archers didn't relax, but their leader lowered his bow, stepping forward. He too gave a long look at the dagger before nodding at me sharply. "A wise decision," he said, though there was no praise in his voice, "However, if you do not obey our orders in the future, know that punishment will be swift and permanent."

With that, he turned his back to me, ignoring my glowering gaze as he faced Aragorn, who spared me a subtle nod of relief. "Aragorn of the Dunedain, you are known to us," he said as the ranger bowed slightly, "And Legolas, son of Thranduil, is welcome."

He turned to face the fellowship, his eyes resting on each of the men in turn. "I am Haldir of Lórien, warden of the Golden Wood. By the grace of Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, you are to be judged before we can allow you passage."

Then his gaze returned to me, scrutinizing, as I met his stare unflinchingly, summoning the look of regal disdain Ranni had taught me long ago. "But this one…" His voice was infuriatingly calm, though this time it held a hint of suspicion. "She is not known to any of us. Her garb and weapon are foreign, unlike any I have seen in Middle Earth. And more troubling still, she has somehow perceived Lady Galadriel's presence—an impossibility, unless the Lady willed it so." He paused, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "Tell me, who is this woman, and why is she amongst your company?"

Aragorn inclined his head respectfully toward Haldir, fingers briefly touching his brow in greeting before wisely stepping between us, likely in an effort to stop me from antagonizing this snide elf even further. "This is Phaeryn, a stranger to these lands. We met her on the road to Moria, and she has shown herself to be both a skilled warrior and a trusted companion. We will personally vouch for her character."

Haldir let out a slight hum, clearly unsatisfied. "A stranger? That much is evident from the enchantment upon her weapon. Yet, that does not answer my question of why she is with you. Was this quest not one of utmost secrecy? Why did you accept a stranger into your ranks despite the risks?"

Legolas stepped forward, gracefully echoing Aragorn's gesture before addressing Haldir. "She is no ordinary woman, Haldir. What I speak may be difficult to accept, but Phaeryn possesses great skill in the magical arts, even if she is not one of the named sorcerers in Middle Earth." He paused, as if he was debating whether to add more, before filling his tone with quiet certainty. "And she is blessed with divine protection, though not by Tilion, as we know him. She serves another, a goddess from beyond the stars, one whose light also governs the Moon."

A ripple of unease passed through the elves, their glances quick and uncertain. Haldir's expression hardened, and though he kept his composure, his disbelief was apparent as he looked me over once more. "Preposterous," he said coolly, his voice laced with skepticism, "A stranger who has chanced upon an enchanted blade, I can accept. But one who claims proficiency in sorcery and a blessing from a Valar unknown to us? You have all been deceived. It is far more likely she is an agent of Sauron, sent to infiltrate your company and our realm."

Haldir then turned sharply toward Frodo, his elven features suddenly paling as his gaze fixed on the quiet hobbit. "And this one carries a great evil with him. The risk is too great. You will go no further."

Haldir gave a curt nod, and the elves moved to surround us once again. Though their weapons were sheathed, they remained close, clearly intending to escort us back down the path and out of their woods. Aragorn and Legolas hurried after Haldir, speaking to him in rapid Elvish, but their words fell on deaf ears. The elf dismissed their pleas with a wave of indifference, reinforcing that we would go no further. The fellowship's faces all fell as the elves drew closer, with the hobbits nearly collapsing on their feet when visions of rest and safety dissolved right in front of their eyes.

My fists clenched so tightly it was painful. There was no way we were being denied entry, not when we were so close to getting answers. As much as I already disliked Lady Galadriel, Gandalf had insisted she was the only one who could help us understand why the Valar had called to us. The Ring was likely the reason, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something else was at play. Being denied further explanation simply because of who exactly I was and Frodo's burden as the Ring Bearer was unacceptable.

Ranni's presence was wary, her voice filled with warning when she sensed my anger rising. "Phaeryn—"

But it was too late. I already made my decision, and if my actions only made them escort us out of the woods faster, then it was no skin off our backs.

The elves who had begun to reach out for me recoiled with startled cries as tendrils of electricity crackled across my armor. I glared at Haldir, who had somehow silently given the order to his troop to raise their weapons against me once more. Faith surged through me, filling my body with a rush of power. Haldir's eyes widened as small tongues of flame escaped my lips, casting flickering shadows dancing across the now-dim surroundings. "Galadriel," I snarled, my voice rising as I called out into the darkness of the forest, "I know you're listening. And you know why we're here. If Haldir speaks for you and you intend on denying us safe passage, that's fine. But if something happens to us on this quest to destroy the Ring, know that you could have changed the outcome. That burden will be yours to bear and yours alone."

The atmosphere grew thick and strangled in the wake of my proclamation. The elves had retreated, their shock and fear barely masked as they struggled to comprehend the casual display of power. The fellowship stared at me, open-mouthed, disbelief written on their faces. Aragorn looked the most distressed, rubbing his face with a groan before casting me a disapproving glance. Even Legolas, usually composed, wore an expression of unease.

Haldir stepped forward, his face tight with cold fury, by far the most emotion he had shown since coming here. "How dare you speak to the Lady in such a manner," he hissed, his voice low and dangerous, "You have tested our patience for the last time. We have no choice but to act against you—"

Haldir suddenly stiffened, his words trailing off into silence. The elves around him shifted uneasily, their eyes darting between him and me as a myriad of emotions flickered across his face, ranging from anger to disbelief to frustration. I remained unmoving, even as the bows pointed in my direction twitched to every crackle of electricity across my body.

The rest of the fellowship looked confused, unsure why he had stopped mid-sentence. But I knew. Galadriel was speaking to him. And judging by the tightness in his jaw and the flicker of vexation in his eyes, it was not the message the haughty elf wanted to hear.

A few moments passed as Haldir wrapped up his internal discussion with Galadriel. He swallowed hard before straightening, begrudgingly waving a hand down to his troop. I almost heard the sighs from the rest of the fellowship when the elves lowered their bows instantly. "Lady Galadriel requests your presence," Haldir bit out, as if the very action brought him great discomfort, "You will follow us."

With that, he turned sharply and strode purposefully deeper into the woods, a few of his troops following close behind. The rest of the elves remained with us, clearly waiting for us to follow. The fellowship hesitated at first, inching forward when they realized they wouldn't be shot down while doing so. Soon enough, we hurried to catch up with the departing elf.

Gimli gave my arm a firm pat, his eyes gleaming with admiration. I could tell I'd earned more of his respect, though not exactly for the reasons I intended. To him, successfully standing up to the elves was probably a victory in itself. Aragorn and Legolas, however, shot me warning looks, their expressions practically pleading with me not to test our luck any further. Boromir walked in silence, and the hobbits trailed along behind us, though Merry and Pippin offered me tired smiles of gratitude.

I nodded once to them, still feeling somewhat miffed about the treatment we had received so far. I would have definitely enjoyed meeting the Dwarves over this lot.

The elves around me flinched back just a tiny bit when I flicked the Erdsteel Dagger into the air, the weapon displacing back into the aether in front of their stunned eyes. I ignored them and strode forward to catch up, and their hesitant footsteps followed my own.

Ranni's presence faded into my head as we trotted deeper into the darkening woods, the lack of light somehow not affecting the elves in the slightest. "That was a foolish move, Phaeryn," she chided, her displeasure clear, "Thou hast placed thyself in far graver danger than was necessary. What wouldst thou have done, had they chosen to imprison thee instead of escorting us from these woods? Thou hast risked the chance to establish discourse with the elves, all for the sake of recklessness."

I grimaced slightly, though there was still some lingering heat in my thoughts. That prick was asking for it, I grumbled, referring to Haldir, He had no right in using his own discretion in denying us entry. Even Galadriel allowed us to pass when I pushed back. What I did was the most immediate course of action.

"And the most impudent," she retorted, "I, too, bear no fondness for our treatment. Yet if we are to find the reason for our summons to this world, it wouldst be wise not to provoke Lady Galadriel's lieutenants any further."

I sighed. She was right. I should have kept calm and let Aragorn and Legolas handle it. But in my defense, we were all tired and worn out from the long trek through the woods, and being told to buzz off and go back the way we came after everything we'd been through was enough to push me from 'mildly annoyed' to 'supremely upset.' I know, I know. I conceded, But at least it worked out in the end. Galadriel was listening the whole time, and I could tell that the only reason she hadn't granted us immediate passage was because we forced her out of my mind. The sheer pettiness.

"While I agree with the unfairness of it all, I do not believe her hesitance was born out of pettiness," Ranni said, "We are unknown to this realm, and Lady Galadriel would, of course, be wary of our sudden appearance. 'Tis expected she wouldst seek to discern our purpose, though her methods may have been...ill-mannered."

My prickly hostility towards the snooping elf faded into worry. I bit my lip slightly as I stepped over a mossy log. She didn't get to do anything to me, did she? I asked anxiously.

Ranni's answer was immediate and sure. "She did not. It seemeth her sole intent was to peer into thy memories, to judge if thou wert trustworthy. I do not believe she meant to cast any spell upon thee. Even if such were her intent, my magic wouldst have banished her in but an instant."

I almost sighed with relief. That made it a little better, though not by much. Even as I begrudgingly accepted the fact that her intentions were not fueled by nefarious reasons, her actions were still a gross invasion of my privacy. She could have simply waited to speak with me directly or given Haldir—someone she clearly knew well—better instructions on how to discern my purpose in the fellowship. Either way, we were going to have a long conversation once we reached her.

A sudden stumble caught my attention, and my hand automatically reached out to grab Frodo, who had slipped over a patch of wet grass. I itched to bring out my staff and make a little bit of light so we could at least see where we were going, but I figured the elves wouldn't appreciate me casting any spells in their domain.

I pulled up the hobbit and gave him what I hoped was a comforting smile. "Are you alright?"

Frodo nodded once, but his eyes didn't meet mine. He seemed lost in his own thoughts, distant even to the rest of the fellowship. I watched him with a pang of regret as he straightened himself, though he stayed close to me for reasons I couldn't quite understand. I stole glances at him when we set off once more, and I could almost hear his reluctance screaming out at me.

I fought back a sigh. I should have known this would come up eventually. I had hoped this could wait until we were safely within Lothlórien's borders, where we would have time to unpack everything that had happened, but this was inevitable. Frodo clearly had something weighing on his chest, and I had a slight suspicion I knew what it was.

Swallowing my hesitation, I nudged Frodo's arm gently. He flinched slightly, glancing up at me with a questioning look. "It's alright if you blame me, you know?"

The confusion deepened when my words sank in. "What?" he asked, lowering his voice in an effort to not draw attention.

I gave him a bitter smile, unable to hide the guilt from creeping into my voice. "Back in the mines. If I had been smarter about distracting the Balrog, I wouldn't have wasted so much of my strength. I could have done more on that bridge." His eyes widened, realization dawning on his face. "I know you and Gandalf were close," I continued, my voice softening, "And I understand if you're upset with the choices I made. I just wanted to say I'm sorry that I didn't do enough."

His head was already shaking before I even finished. "No, Phaeryn, please don't blame yourself," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "It wasn't your fault—none of it was." His head dipped, his voice now laced with shame. "If anyone should apologize, it should be me."

I remained silent, my gaze questioning, giving him the time he needed to find the words. The hobbit swallowed hard before finally looking up at me, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "This is all my fault. Every bit of it. I thought it was the only way, and that it would keep us safe. But because of me, Gandalf is gone, you were almost killed, and all of us were put in danger."

He grasped at his arms, shaking as he stumbled forward. "I didn't see the risks, didn't understand what could happen. I should have listened, should have known better, but I didn't, and I'm so sorry—"

I cut off his frantic rambling by kneeling down and gripping his shoulders gently, forcing him to meet my gaze. The elves escorting us paused, watching, but didn't interfere. I softened my voice as much as I could, locking eyes with him as his tears welled up. "Breathe, Frodo...just breathe. Deep breaths now…"

Frodo's chest hitched as he struggled to match my deep, exaggerated breaths. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw some of the others pause, a few stepping forward to join us. Sam hurried over, alarm clear in his eyes, his hand outstretched as if he wanted to ask what was wrong. I gave him a gentle but firm look, shaking my head slightly. He stopped, swallowing hard, worry etched on his face, but he stepped back, glancing over his shoulder every few steps as he continued on. Only Boromir stayed behind, something that would have caught my attention if Frodo didn't need it more.

I looked back at Frodo as he finally got a hold on his emotions. "What do you mean, Frodo?" I asked quietly in an effort to not startle him. "How could this ever be your fault?"

He gripped my arm tightly, his voice rushed as if he needed to get the words out before they overwhelmed him. "It was me. I was the one who chose Moria," he breathed, "Back on Caradhras, we had a choice: the Gap of Rohan or the mines. I knew Gandalf didn't want to go into Moria. I could see it in his eyes. But I thought...I thought it was too dangerous to get that close to Saruman. Maybe we could've been more careful. Maybe we could've made it through his domain without being seen. But because I chose Moria...everything that's happened is my fault."

A storm of pity and anger swirled inside me as I looked at the poor hobbit in disbelief. How had I been so blind to what Frodo was going through? How long had he carried this weight, believing he was responsible for the entire group? He never should have had to. The burden of the Ring was already more than enough, yet he somehow found it in himself to take the blame for everything that had gone wrong. Whether this was the Ring's influence or his own genuine guilt, I didn't know. But one thing was certain—I needed to put an end to it.

I tightened my grip slightly, holding his gaze steady. He faltered at seeing the steel in my eyes. "Listen to me, Frodo Baggins. We are not your responsibility. Our choices are not your responsibility. Even what the Ring does to others is not your responsibility. The only things you're responsible for is keeping yourself safe and making the best decisions based on what you know at the time."

His eyes widened as I continued. "The fellowship didn't go to Moria because you twisted their arms. They followed your decision because they trusted you, and because it was the choice you believed was right. You can't blame yourself for that, not now, not ever. Would you blame me if I had made the same call? If I thought Moria was the safer way to go?"

He shook his head hesitantly. I paused, my voice softening. "You made the best choice you could, Frodo. None of us will hold that against you, and neither should you."

"She's right."

I turned and saw Boromir standing quietly nearby. He didn't step closer, perhaps because he didn't share as close a bond with Frodo compared to the ones with Merry and Pippin, but his voice was gentle, his eyes filled with understanding. "Gandalf's death was not in vain. Nor would he have you give up hope." He paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle in the night air. "You carry a heavy burden, Frodo. Don't carry the weight of the dead."

Frodo remained silent, his head bowed as he absorbed our words. Though it was clear he understood what we were telling him, there was still hesitation in him. A part of him couldn't accept that he deserved to be free of this burden, even if he knew the truth deep down. I knew it would take more than a few strong words from me and Boromir to dissuade him of this guilt. But I was hoping it would at least be a start.

I stood up slowly, keeping my hand steady on Frodo's shoulder. I shot a grateful nod at Boromir, catching the slight, bitter smile on his lips before he turned and rejoined the fellowship. Looking back down at the quiet hobbit, I gently guided him forward, careful not to rush him, even when the elves escorting us not-so-subtly cleared their throats with impatience.

I let Frodo rejoin the other hobbits when we finally caught up, giving him one last squeeze on his shoulder. Sam instantly stuck to his charge like glue, staying close but not coddling. I smiled at the sight. Frodo needed someone to keep him grounded, remind him that no one was going to blindly go along with every decision he made. Especially if that someone was as honest as Sam.

Ranni's presence gently filled my mind, though I could tell she had been listening from the start, silently letting me speak to Frodo. "Thou hast spoken true, Phaeryn," she whispered, her attention shifting to the hobbit, "In time, he shall come to understand thy words." She paused, the soft chirping of crickets filling the silence before she continued. "Yet it is my hope that one day, thou too shalt heed those same words, my dear. What happened all those years past was not of thy making."

She grew quiet once more, her final words lingering in the air as her presence faded. If the fellowship noticed my sudden change in mood as we drew closer to Lady Galadriel's domain, they said nothing.

I walked in silence, letting the sounds of the forest blur into a distant hum. Ranni meant well. I knew that. But there were some things that just couldn't be forgiven. Some things that were my fault, and mine alone.

And I could never—ever—take my own words to heart.

[-]

It was well into the night when we finally arrived at Caras Galadhon, the 'heart' of Lothlórien. Haldir spoke the name with reverence as we crossed its borders, his voice filled with respect and love.

Despite our exhaustion from traveling nearly a full day's worth in this annoyingly beautiful forest, our spirits lifted with awe and wonder the moment we beheld the kingdom under the glow of the full moon.

I couldn't help but whistle in appreciation at seeing the gorgeous sight, the kingdom easily putting the rest of the forest to shame. Even Ranni hummed in quiet admiration, using my eyes to take in the sight for herself. "Remarkable," she murmured, clearly impressed.

Remarkable indeed.

Caras Galadhon rose high above the rest of the forest, trees gradually growing higher and higher until their peaks resembled that of a small mountain. The towering trees stretched high into the sky, their silver-gray trunks practically glowing under the light of the moon. If I looked closely, I could make out platforms and bridges nestled among their branches, the number so numerous it looked like an entire city was built into it. White light from thousands of lamps flickered in the trees, their soft glows mimicking the stars above.

My admiration only grew as we entered the city, seeing the stunning architecture first-hand. The 'streets' were made of suspended bridges made of a pure white wood and silk rope, lit by so many lanterns that there wasn't even a spot of shadow. The bridge swayed slightly underfoot, but it was otherwise completely stable, and I could almost pretend we were walking on a regular stone path.

Numerous elves watched us pass by, and while none were outwardly hostile, I could practically feel their discomfort. They whispered to one another in Elvish as they saw our escorts, and it was only when I shot them a look did they stop and turn away.

Structures rose high into the canopy above as we passed them by, their walls seemingly shaped and molded to grow into the desired form rather than being carved. Each building was adorned with intricate, leaf-like patterns, the designs looking right at home within the trees. Looking closer, I realized that nothing was ever built over the towering trees. Rather, everything was built into them, seamlessly blending both Elf-made creations and nature in perfect harmony.

The fellowship moved in quiet awe, their expressions one of amazement as they took it all in. Even Gimli, normally so gruff and unimpressed with anything even resembling Elven things, was quiet, his eyes wide as he disregarded all pretenses of disinterest. I kept stealing glances at the group, sharing their feelings of wonder.

Though I couldn't help but groan inwardly once we reached a grand, spiraling staircase, its slope so gradual that I didn't even realize we were ascending until we were already a quarter of the way up. I needed to know if there was a singular school from where every single aspiring architect in Middle Earth got their training from. What was it about basic safety measures that seemed so abhorrent to these designers?

I'd assumed Moria was an outlier, with the lack of railings simply because the Dwarves were too stubborn to admit they might need to use them. But here we were, once again, seeing not a single guardrail in sight. Maybe the Elves were too graceful to even consider falling off of their own buildings, but the more 'clumsy' races would have to keep on their toes.

We eventually reached the top of the staircase, with Haldir leading us to a small plaza facing a wooden archway made of twisting vines and adorned with golden leaves. A small stairway rose up past the archway, revealing silver double-doors, intricately carved in depictions of stars and two giant trees that kind of reminded me of the Minor Erdtrees.

Two guards flanked the doors, none of them even giving us a glance as we were bade to stop. Haldir bowed once towards the doors before taking his place off to the side, somehow becoming the very picture of tranquility.

I glanced behind me, seeing nothing but a long fall to the bottom of the tree because of the lack of guardrails again, and I gently pushed the hobbits in front of me. After this, I was going to find the architect of this place and give them a good smack.

All of a sudden, the air itself seemed to change, turning lighter and ethereal. The fellowship stiffened as the soft glow from the lanterns was suddenly overwhelmed by a brilliant, almost magical light spilling from the stairway ahead as the doors slowly swung open.

I flinched, putting up mental barriers just in case. The light was unmistakably beautiful, but it was definitely unnatural. I needed to err on the side of caution.

We all blinked as two figures slowly emerged from the radiant light, though their silhouettes were not seen at all. In fact, it almost seemed like the light was coming from them, rather than from anywhere around them. There was clearly some form of magic at play here.

I couldn't help but gape slightly as the light faded to reveal what could only be Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. Celeborn stood regal and tall, his silver hair shimmering in the light of the lamps. He commanded attention with his calm presence, though that was a hopeless request seeing how Galadriel was standing right next to him.

While Celebron commanded attention, Galadriel earned it. Her golden hair glowed as if the stars above rested upon her, and her pure blue eyes were ancient beyond a doubt, twinkling with an internal light as they rested upon each and every one of us. The air felt heavy with her presence, not from anything malicious, but from something much more ancient and powerful. The closest experience I could compare it to was seeing the Elden Beast arise for the first time, though the vassal was filled with a more cosmic and esoteric energy compared to the mystery Galadriel radiated. I suppressed an involuntary shiver when her eyes rested on mine, suddenly feeling like she was quietly weighing my soul.

Even Ranni was momentarily stunned, though not exactly for reasons I had expected. The witch breathed out softly in my mind, her surprise evident through our link. "Miquella…?"

I could tell everyone was staring at the woman in a mixture of unconcealed awe and respect. The hobbits were dumbstruck, their eyes wide in wonder. Gimli was unabashedly gaping at the elf, looking like he had just seen the most precious of all jewels. Boromir flinched a bit as he was bathed in their radiance, but he too couldn't tear his eyes away. Only Aragorn and Legolas seemed immune to the effect, both of them bowing deeply as the pair descended the stairs.

My instincts suddenly tensed as Galadriel's presence brushed against the edges of my mind again, though it was only for a brief moment. This time, she wasn't attempting to breach it. It seemed like she was just testing and tapping away, as if to see if my barriers were still in place, steadfastly denying her entry.

My spirit flared, Ranni's cooling presence rising alongside mine, the two of us forming a united front as we pushed her out once more. Despite being initially awestruck, my gaze quickly hardened into a glare, locking onto the elf with heated intensity, daring her to try again. The woman's eyes widened just a hair as she was forced out, but she made no further effort to repeat it.

My glower remained even when Haldir shifted uneasily next to us and Celeborn began to speak, his voice sounding just as regal as he looked. "The enemy knows you have entered here," the king proclaimed, "What hope you had in secrecy is now gone."

His gaze swept over us, lingering on each of the men in turn. "Nine there were that set out from Rivendell, and nine there are here. Yet this ninth I do not know." I couldn't help my heart from dropping slightly. "Tell me, where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him."

The atmosphere grew heavy as his question hung in the air. The hobbits, earlier having forgotten their grief as they passed through this impossibly perfect place, looked down as the weight of our loss settled on us once more.

Galadriel turned, her eyes suddenly filling with sorrow as she spoke. Her voice sounded exactly how she looked: ancient and graceful. "Gandalf the Gray did not pass through the borders of this land," she said, her eyes flicking briefly toward Frodo before she continued, "He has fallen into shadow."

The elves nearby shifted with unease, and for a brief moment it felt like the light had dimmed slightly. Legolas stepped forward, his expression painful and grief-stricken. "He was taken by both shadow and flame."

That got a reaction out of the pair, with Celeborn looking like he had aged several hundred years in the span of a second while Galadriel closed her eyes as if what Legolas was saying only confirmed her worst fears. "A Balrog of Morgoth," he continued, "For we went needlessly into the net of Moria."

Frodo and Gimli both bowed their heads low, guilt screaming out to me in their postures. I placed a comforting hand on Gimli's shoulder while Sam did the same with Frodo. Despite the sadness I felt, I couldn't help but think that Legolas could have phrased that last part better. I knew he too was struggling with the loss, but saying our journey through the mines was needless didn't help anybody.

"Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life," Galadriel assured gently. "We do not yet know his full purpose."

Gimli sighed deeply, drawing her attention. She smiled then, and the simple gesture filled the room with her radiance once more, though it was still touched with sorrow. "Do not let the darkness of Khazad-dûm fill your heart, Gimli, son of Glóin," she whispered, her voice soft yet steady, "For the world has grown full of peril. And in all lands, love is now mingled with grief."

Her tone shifted sharply with that last word, her expression hardening as she turned her gaze toward Boromir. I watched with growing indignation as the nobleman exhaled unsteadily, her eyes boring into him. I could see his composure unraveling, his breath growing quick and shallow as he fought to look away. By this point, I knew what it looked like when she was speaking to someone in their minds. And whatever she was saying to Boromir was causing him immense distress.

Cold fury surged through me as I pushed Boromir behind me, severing the connection. He gasped unsteadily as I let the full force of my anger blaze in my eyes as I shot daggers at the elf. Though I said nothing, I made it perfectly clear that whatever she was doing was beyond unacceptable.

Galadriel didn't even look surprised that I had once again interfered with her magic. She merely quirked her lips at me as if she was amused, before turning back to the fellowship, leaving me to simmer.

"What now becomes of this fellowship?" Celeborn asked, his voice heavy with concern. "Without Gandalf, hope is now lost."

The men cast their eyes downward, feeling the weight of his words. I couldn't help but bristle at the 'doom and gloom' attitude that seemed to be the normal state for these elves. Yes, Gandalf was a good friend and a wise leader, and his loss weighed heavily on all of us, but that didn't mean hope was lost. We were all still alive and kicking. And they now had me and Ranni, and I had already resolved myself to help see this quest to its end, no matter the cost. I would not leave the fellowship to suffer through this deadly quest on their own. It was what Gandalf would have asked of me, and I wished to honor it the best I could.

A ship without wind may lose its speed, but we still had our oars. We could still fight, and that was enough for me.

To my surprise, it was Galadriel who spoke next, her voice serene and calming. "Not all hope is lost," she said, her gaze soft. "For even in the darkest of nights, a star may yet pierce the shadow."

Her unnervingly clear blue eyes then fixed on me, and in that moment I knew it was now time for some answers. "Let not your hearts be troubled. Go now and take your rest. This night, you shall sleep in peace and safety, for no evil can pursue your fellowship under the protection of Lothlórien."

Galadriel nodded once at Haldir, who bowed deeply, his face filled with adoration. The fellowship followed suit, a few murmuring their thanks and gratitude as they turned to follow the elf back down the stairs.

"I must ask, however, that your new member remain," Galadriel said, her voice gentle but firm. "There is much we must discuss. She will rejoin you in time."

I crossed my arms, feeling a spark of anticipation. About damn time. Ranni's presence grew stronger in my mind as the fellowship turned, confusion and worry evident in their faces.

"Is she in trouble?" Pippin squeaked in concern, managing to dredge up just enough bravery to challenge Galadriel's overwhelming presence.

The elf smiled gently as she shook her head, causing the hobbit to blush. "Nothing of the sort. I am merely curious to meet a king and her goddess from beyond the stars."

The rest of the group jolted at that, their stunned eyes darting to me. Even Haldir looked surprised as he finally realized Legolas's claims from earlier were no lie at all. I almost wanted to give him a smug look. "King?" Boromir gasped, staring as if I'd suddenly grown another head.

"Elden Lord, actually," I replied distractedly as Boromir spluttered, my mind already elsewhere. I would have clarified further, but Galadriel's sudden knowledge of my status took precedence. "How do you know about that?" I asked, my gaze sharpening with suspicion.

She annoyingly didn't respond, just standing there smiling as Haldir finally started to usher the fellowship away to give us some privacy. I shot an apologetic look at the flabbergasted group, hoping to convey to them that I would explain things later when I wrapped things up here.

All fell still as the sound of footsteps and muted conversation faded down the stairs, leaving behind a heavy silence. Celeborn released Galadriel's hand as she descended down the stairs, her movement almost unnaturally smooth, as if she were gliding. I tensed as she approached, my suspicion and anger still simmering within me.

So far, Galadriel had done very little to earn my respect. Sure, she had soothed Gimli's guilt earlier, but it would take far more than that to get into my good graces. Powerful and well-versed in the magical arts she may be, but her rude habit of pulling thoughts from my friends' minds and asserting her influence was unforgivable. Maybe customs were different here, but my thoughts were my own, and I wasn't about to let anyone I didn't trust into my head.

She stopped a few steps away, tilting her head slightly, her gaze still unsettling. Those unnerving eyes of hers seemed to see everything, attempting to look into places I didn't want her looking. I met her stare without blinking, fighting the urge to break the silence as the tension grew thick.

At last, Galadriel's gaze dropped to my satchel, and when she spoke again, her voice was softer, more respectful. She bowed her head slightly. "If you do not mind, Goddess Ranni, I would speak with you as well. And be assured, there is no need for wariness regarding the Valar's spell over these lands."

She extended her hand, revealing a silver band on her finger. It was beautiful, the material intricately formed into the shape of a spiraling flower. At its center sat a shimmering white stone, gleaming with an inner light that felt almost otherworldly. "Nenya," she said quietly, "is one of the Great Rings granted to the Elves. It protects this realm from outside influence, warding against prying eyes and malevolent design. Here, the Valar's spell is muted and their gaze distant."

I raised an eyebrow, equal parts skeptical and surprised. So, she too knew about the spell the Valar had woven around Middle Earth. That was good to hear, since Gandalf himself hadn't even been aware of it. What I was more worried about was whether her claims of being able to reject the Valar's influence held any truth. Ranni had mostly recovered from our ordeal in Moria, but I wasn't about to bring her into this magical realm without knowing for certain that it was safe.

Ranni faded out briefly, and I felt the familiar sensation of a scanning spell coursing through my body. A few seconds passed before she made a surprised sound, intrigue evident in her tone. "She speaketh true. Though the spell is not entirely negated, her ring doth cast a protective barrier that encompasseth these lands. 'Tis a most powerful magic indeed."

Well, if the spell wasn't throwing up any alarm bells, then I supposed it wouldn't hurt to accept Galadriel's request. I wasn't really worried that she would bring Ranni any harm either. As much as I distrusted the elf, she hadn't exactly done anything to warrant a combative attitude.

Galadriel simply stared at me with that creepy smile of hers as I sat down the doll, my movements slow and wary. Familiar light filled the space as motes of azure magic drifted into the air, coalescing into snow-white robes and a wide-brimmed hat.

The elf guards that were stationed around us made no change in facial expression, but I could see that their grips on their weapons tightened when they saw Ranni's pale blue skin and incorporeal secondary face. It was only through Galadriel's unbothered demeanor that they didn't spring into action already.

Galadriel bowed deeply as Ranni drew close to me, her cooling aura brushing against me as the last traces of magic faded into the night. "It is a great honor to finally meet you, Ranna Isilё," she said, her voice filled with quiet respect, "Though our moon is guided by another, know that you and the Dark Moon are most welcome."

She then turned to me, bowing slightly, though with a bit less deference. "And you, Phaeryn, Elden Lord of The Lands Between. You are also gladly received in Lothlórien. I bid both of you peace and safety under our protection."

Ranni bowed back slightly, her face carefully neutral despite the elf's casual display of knowledge. "I had expected to give mine introductions to thee, yet it seemeth thou already knowest of us and our stations." Her gaze turned just a shade frostier, the air growing ever so slightly colder. "Explain how thou hast come by this knowledge. Phaeryn and I have thwarted thy attempts to breach her mind twice now, yet thou art aware of mine patronage to the Moon and of Phaeryn's lordship."

Galadriel straightened, her expression softening apologetically, though there was a flicker of confusion in her eyes. "I ask your forgiveness for any perceived intrusion," she said, "It is rare indeed that I encounter one who can so completely shield their mind from me. Rest assured, I was only able to see your identities."

She then frowned slightly. "But also know that I made no attempt to breach your mind, Lord Phaeryn. I apologize if it seemed that way to you, but my only intent was to read your intentions and nothing more."

Despite her apology, I still felt my fists clench tightly. "My thoughts are my own, Lady Galadriel," I bit out, unable to keep the venom from my voice, "You might think it's harmless, but I do not take kindly to anyone trying to reach into it, no matter how 'good' their intent is."

Faith filled the air, turning it almost electric. Galadriel and Celeborn remained still, but their faces grew wary as power coursed through my body. "I have seen what beings can do with powers like yours." My eyes grew flinty as the guards shifted uneasily. "You might not use them to cause physical harm, but I know firsthand how their effects on people can leave scars, scars that won't heal and make them terrified and paranoid of every thought, hoping that it's their own and not someone else's."

Ranni's hand touched mine gently, but I wasn't done. Not just yet. "If you want to talk to me, either come to me in person or send along a message. Do not try to poke inside my head. I can't promise I'll be as gentle with you next time."

The pressure disappeared slowly in the wake of my threat, letting the air return to normal. All was silent as the elves stared at me, with Celeborn looking like he was ready to reach for his blade while Galadriel simply looked stunned.

After a beat, she bowed deeply, and I felt a flash of relief when I saw the beginnings of regret in her eyes. "I am sorry," she said, her voice now touched with sincerity. "I did not mean to cause you such distress, nor did I fully grasp the reasoning for your wariness. Your mind is your own, and I will respect that."

She straightened, her gaze no longer quite as piercing as before. "I will not attempt to touch upon your mind further. If I wish to speak with you, then it will be as you ask."

Her apology hung in the air, and though the tension remained, it had shifted to a more subdued understanding. I exchanged a glance with Ranni, her presence steady and unwavering beside me. She didn't look entirely pleased with how I'd phrased my words, but there was a quiet understanding of why I said what I did.

"Good," I said, breaking the silence, "Now that we've got all of that out of the way, I think it's time we talk about why we're here."

Galadriel eyes reflected immediate understanding. "Gandalf told us you were our best chance at understanding what the Valar want from us," I continued, ignoring the pang in my chest at the mention of the wizard, "And since you know of their spell and who we are, I'm sure you know more than you've let on."

The elf nodded, stepping aside to gaze over the edge of the platform, where the city of Caras Galadhon lay bathed in the soft glow of the full moon. After a moment of silence, she spoke, her voice calm and deliberate. "You are well aware of the peril the One Ring brings, and the importance of its destruction. Sauron is a great evil that must be vanquished, and his influence purged from these lands forever.

"The Valar understand the gravity of this task. It is why they sent the Istari ages ago to offer guidance in this time of darkness. Yet they too know that the Free Peoples must take charge of their own fates. Thus, they have sworn never to intervene directly in the affairs of Middle Earth again." Her distant gaze sharpened in an instant, a serious light filling her eyes. "Until now."

Ranni hummed softly while I nodded in agreement. We had already known for a while now that the Valar had taken a strict hands-off approach with this world. Other than the fact that no one had communed with these gods directly for millenia now, Gandalf had already made it clear that the Valar's ultimate goal was to step back and allow the people of Middle Earth to take control of their own lives. It was a sentiment that resonated with both of us, and I could sense that Ranni fully accepted the Valar's current course.

But what changed?

Galadriel steepled her fingers, her posture almost mirroring Ranni's. "I became aware of the shift in the air many months ago. Though imperceptible to most, through Nenya, I could sense the magic had permeated every corner of these lands. The change was so gradual, I might not have noticed it were it not for my ring's power."

"So that's why Gandalf had no idea what we were talking about," I said, stroking my chin thoughtfully, "Ranni and I could sense it because your magic is so different than ours, but he couldn't because spell was too subtle for him to sense unless he was paying attention."

"And it seemeth the spell was cast at the very moment when the Valar first did reach out to us." Ranni added.

The elf nodded. "Though I once dwelled among the Valar in Valinor and hold much of their knowledge, I no longer have the ability to commune with them directly." Before I could wonder just how old Galadriel was, she continued on, her voice lowering. "However, with the power of Nenya and the foresight granted to me, I have glimpsed something strange in the darkness of Mordor and what is soon to be unleashed upon these lands. Something lurks in shadow, and I have felt how the earth itself grows fearful of its movements."

Ranni leaned forward, intrigued. "Thou possesseth the ability to peer into the future?" She sounded impressed. "'Tis truly a mighty gift, one most rare, even among those in The Lands Between."

I found myself inclined to agree. Though the Carian Royal Family used the cosmos to determine fate and destiny alike, it was hardly an exact science. Only those particularly skilled in reading the stars could even hope to glean what the future would hold. The fact that Galadriel seemed to innately have the ability to see beyond the borders of her land and have the use of foresight was a powerful talent.

Which is why I felt a bit let down when the elf shook her head. "Not quite, Ranna Isilё. While it is true that I possess the ability to glimpse what lies ahead, it is but a vision of what may come to pass. The future is ever changing, and even the slightest of shifts can alter its course entirely."

Ranni nodded, apparently having assessed as much. Still, even if we didn't know exactly what was ahead of us, it was at least a bit of a relief that we could at least see one possible future, even if it turned out to be against us. At least with this, we knew what could be coming.

I waited for Galadriel to continue speaking, but she had fallen completely quiet. Confusion furrowed my brow as the silence stretched on, seeing the usually composed elf filled with sudden unease, the only movement a slight wringing of her fingers. It almost seemed like she was struggling with herself, as if she wasn't sure if she should speak.

"Lady Galadriel?" Ranni's calm voice broke the silence, but her concern was evident. "Doth something trouble thee?"

For another long moment, Galadriel seemed to be weighing her words, filling the air with unspoken tension. Finally, after several seconds, she spoke, her voice laced with quiet hesitation. "Before I speak further of the visions I have seen," she began carefully, "I must ask of you both: what path will you walk, once the knowledge you seek is yours?"

I raised an eyebrow. That wasn't something I expected her to ask. "You might have to elaborate on that, Lady Galadriel," I replied, caution suddenly filling me when I noticed the worried look in her eyes, "What are you asking? How is this knowledge going to determine what we do next?"

Her fingers tightened ever so slightly. "What I reveal to you now may shape the path you choose to tread," she said, the hesitation in her voice fading as her eyes met ours with an unyielding intensity. "You are not of this world," she continued, "and aside from your bond to the fellowship, you hold no lasting ties to Middle Earth. You may choose to leave at any time, should your hearts desire it. But know that returning will not be so easily done, for the Valar's enchantment will no longer grant you passage."

That was definitely not something I was expecting. I could feel Ranni's annoyance through our bond as well. The more I learned about the Valar, the less their logic made sense. How could they ask us to help and then make it so we couldn't return if we left even once? It felt like they were forcing us to make a choice: either make us stay and solve whatever problem they had or block us from ever coming back if we decided to leave.

Galadriel's gaze sharpened, and though no spell had been cast, I felt her presence press against my soul, as if she were judging my very being. "Will you steel yourselves and stand with the fellowship until their quest is fulfilled?" She asked, her words cutting through the air. "Or will you turn away, once you learn of the new threat that darkens this world? I ask this not lightly, for I must know your answer before I speak further."

A spike of annoyance shot through me as I crossed my arms. "So, you're telling us to make a choice now, before we even know what we're really up against? That hardly seems fair, Lady Galadriel. How could we commit to something like that when you haven't even given us the full picture?"

I intentionally left out the fact that I committed myself long ago to joining the fellowship on their already dangerous quest. Even without the looming threat of this new enemy, I wouldn't have changed my mind, especially against something as evil as the will of Sauron. This Maia seemed hellbent on crushing the lives and free will of the Free Peoples of Middle Earth, and that was something Ranni and I had sworn to fight against. We weren't bound here by any means, but we had an oath to defend freedom from the tyrannical rules of those seeking to control fate.

Galadriel's gaze softened, but the steel remained. "I understand your frustrations," she said, her voice steady, "Yet, I must ask it all the same. Too much hangs in the balance, and I cannot speak further until I know where you stand. The road ahead is more perilous than ever, darker than even I had foreseen. I must know if hope can be rekindled—if you will stay with us through what is to come, or if your path will take you home."

She paused, her eyes and voice piercing. "I ask this not to burden you, but because the stakes demand it."

Silence followed as her words washed over us. The annoyance faded once I understood what she truly meant. This wasn't a trick or plot to trap us here, not a way to force our hand. Her question wasn't meant to manipulate or disadvantage us at all. She needed to know who would stand firm, who would fight, and who might falter when the threat grew too great.

There was no reason to ask this from the fellowship. They were part of this world, and they were the type of men who would rather die trying than run away. After all, their only choices were to fight or perish.

But us. I stole a look at Ranni, seeing her come to the same conclusion as I did. We weren't part of this world. To be completely honest, we could have ignored the Valar's calls from the very beginning. After ascending, we vowed never to interfere with the lives of others. That was the entire reason we established the Age of the Stars in The Lands Between—to allow people to shape their own fates.

But how hypocritical would we be if we didn't lift a finger to help a world that was going through the same struggle we had to go through all those years ago?

Ranni nodded once at me as I turned to face Galadriel once more. I let conviction shine in my eyes as I spoke, uncaring of the burden now placed upon us. "We never intended on leaving in the first place," I said, seeing the elf's eyes widen slightly in surprise, "No matter what's coming, we won't turn away. We won't leave Middle Earth to fall to Sauron. Ranni and I are staying to fight, no matter how long it takes."

"We once swore not to meddle in the affairs of others, to let each soul shape its own fate, free from the designs of gods or lords," Ranni added, her voice soft yet resolute, "Yet, to leave this world to such a grievous fate…'twould be no better than abandoning our own in times past. We shall not turn away. The Free Peoples deserve their chance to forge their own path, and we shall not stand idle whilst that freedom is wrested from them."

Silence filled the space once more, Galadriel's eyes wide in the wake of our proclamation. Celeborn curled his lips slightly from behind his wife, as if he was newly appraising our characters. The elven guards made no change in expression, but I couldn't help but feel a modicum of grudging respect coming from them.

Finally, after a few moments, Galadriel let out a quiet breath. She didn't give us another one of her customary smiles, but relief was apparent in her eyes nonetheless. It was almost as if an enormous weight was lifted off her shoulders. I fought the urge to gulp. Whatever this threat was, it must have been something serious, even more so than Sauron's growing strength.

The elf inclined her head deeply. "You have my deepest thanks," she said, her voice filled with both sincerity and relief. "It eases my heart to know that you are willing to take on this burden, though I asked much of you. In these dark times, it is no small thing to place my trust in another."

We bowed back, saying nothing but waited for her to rise once more.

"I know well the darkness that Sauron carries." Galadriel continued, "His ambition is boundless, for he seeks dominion over all life, caring for nothing but power and the subjugation of all that resists his will." She paused, and for the first time, a shadow passed over her features, her expression turning grave—almost fearful.

"But something stirs in the depths of Mordor." Her voice grew strained, as if the very action of attempting to describe what she saw was too much. "Something beyond Sauron's making, darker and more horrifying than anything he could conjure. It is a malice unlike any I have ever known—callous, void of reason, and utterly cruel." She hesitated, her eyes turning grim and haunted. "What I glimpsed...it was all I could do to return without losing myself."

I stiffened, as did Ranni. "What did you see?" Ranni asked, her voice quiet.

Galadriel shut her eyes and took in a small breath, as if to steel herself. "Fire…" she whispered, looking as if she was trying to suppress a shudder, "An all-consuming inferno, but not one of light or warmth or even the evil of Sauron's own flames. No, this flame was madness itself, spreading death and destruction indiscriminately, burning and cursing every living soul in its path."

I barely heard anything else as a suffocating silence filled my ears, blocking out the world. The floor seemed to disappear beneath me, and suddenly I was drowning.

Through the haze, I barely registered Galadriel's shudder, unaware of my reaction. "I have never encountered such an uncaring evil," she said, her voice filled with unease, "This is not merely darkness or shadow; it was chaos incarnate, a force that not only seeks to destroy the world but to burn away its very foundations."

Her voice dropped lower as a shadow passed over her features. "And it spoke to me," she nearly whispered, "Even through the protections of Nenya, I heard its voice. It was like Sauron's…yet twisted, more malevolent, and utterly alien."

I stumbled slightly as Ranni stepped forward, her usually calm tone now edged with panic. "This voice," she asked hastily, "did it speak to thee of peace? Did it promise to lift thy burdens, to unite all under a single flame, ending all suffering and division? Did it claim to cleanse the world and allow chaos to rule?"

My nails bit into my palm so hard, I wouldn't have been surprised if I drew blood. My breaths came faster, shallow and ragged, as I braced for Galadriel's next words, heart pounding in my chest. I found myself hoping—praying—that whatever she saw wasn't what had plagued my nightmares for years and gave me scars that never healed.

Galadriel swallowed, her eyes closing with horrifying finality. Whatever fragile hope I had left dissolved in that moment. "Yes," she whispered, her voice heavy with resignation, "And I sense that you know what it is."

Everything around me faded, the edges of my vision blurring until I couldn't make out Galadriel's or even Ranni's faces. I could feel my wife reaching for me, her eyes wide, but her touch barely registered. When did I end up on the floor?

Desperately, I clung to her, begging to feel something—anything. But even the cooling presence of her hands on my face or her hurried words couldn't pierce through the suffocating heat that wrapped around me like a shroud.

It couldn't have been anything else. No, what Galadriel claimed she had seen and heard was undeniable.

The Frenzied Flame. The very embodiment of chaos and destruction. It was here. It had found its way to Middle Earth.

A cold dread settled in my bones, but even that didn't banish the cloistering feeling of fire and smoke. We weren't just facing Sauron's darkness anymore. No, what had been causing the Valar so much strife and fear was something far more terrifying than anything the fallen Maia could ever create.

My breath hitched, my chest tightening like a vice as Galadriel's words echoed relentlessly in my mind. I wasn't in Lothlórien, not high among the trees in one of the most beautiful cities I had ever seen. I wasn't overlooking the endless expanse of a pristine forest. I wasn't in Ranni's embrace, despite her desperate attempts to pull me back.

No. I was back there. In that hellish place, deep beneath the earth, where no light could even hope to reach. The only light was that cursed flame, flickering in violent yellows and oranges, burning, devouring everything in its path. The stench of the sewers clung to the air—sulfur, death, and the charred bodies of hundreds of merchants. I could smell it all, thick and sickening.

I could hear flames crackling just beyond the melted iron doors, their crooning whispers slithering into my mind like serpents. I could hear the screams of my beloved friend as everything collapsed around me. I could hear my own, filled with grief and horror and pain.

No matter what Galadriel or Ranni said, their voices were no more than distant whispers, and I lost myself in the memories that I relived again and again. The madness clawed at me, chaos digging its claws into my soul, threatening to consume me whole.

I couldn't breathe. Panic twisted and surged through me, unstoppable. My darkest nightmare, the one I had shut away deep in the confines of my mind…it was out there.

And it was coming to devour this world whole.

[-]

My mind was a haze of numb shock as I descended the steps.

I paid no attention to the elf guard who surreptitiously glanced at me every so often as he guided me towards the living quarters, located a ways away from the main tree that made up Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel's home.

It was well into the night at this point, but within the safety of Lothlórien and under the boughs high above, no darkness invaded the space. Everything was lit up with gentle lights and crackling fires that burned softly but emitted no smoke. Fireflies flew lazy circles overhead, and the rasp of crickets filled the air with a quiet calm.

But no matter how peaceful this magical place was, it did nothing to banish my roiling thoughts.

The abject shock and horror I felt had faded since I left Lady Galadriel's presence, but the dread that clawed at my chest still remained. It was a sinking feeling, my body feeling like I was being dragged under icy waters.

It took me a long while to gather whatever wits I could before the elven lords let me go back to my friends. I didn't know how long I spent gasping and shaking on the floor, coming undone with every shiver, but it was long enough for Lady Galadriel to offer to use her own magic to help calm me down. Ranni had refused, of course, sharply but not unkindly.

Eventually, my wife's presence remained long enough for me to ground myself, but only just barely. I vaguely remembered being helped to my feet, uncaring of the concerned looks of the elves that remained on me long after we had descended the stairs.

I knew Galadriel's belief in our continued stay was wavering. It seemed she knew how terrifying a threat had just emerged from the depths of Mordor, which was why she had practically demanded us to give her a straightforward answer on what we would do next. And after seeing my reaction, it was understandable that her faith in us was now shaky at best.

But she didn't know the sheer magnitude of the threat the Frenzied Flame carried.

I still couldn't believe it was here, festering in whatever hole it was cooped up in. I knew it was biding its time, accumulating and growing its strength as the darkness started to spread beyond the confines of Mordor. I doubted anyone here knew how to deal with an Outer God, and even if they did, they lacked any ability to actually do something about it. Our best hope was working with Gandalf or one of the other Istari, but the former was gone and the other wizards were practically a lost cause. And once the Frenzied Flame found a proper lord to latch onto and corrupt, it would take a miracle to defeat them. I didn't even manage to inflict any lasting damage to the Outer God. Hell, I was lucky enough to delay it while Ranni and I frantically worked to bring in the Dark Moon before it could grow too powerful.

I fought to keep my body from shaking as I slowly shuffled through the streets. I thought I would never see nor hear about the Frenzied Flame ever again. Our home in the cosmos was well-protected and secure from any other being, Outer God or otherwise, from breaching our defenses, and we were banking on the fact that we would return to a godless Lands Between after our thousand-year voyage. Even if the call from the Valar was an unforeseen variable, I didn't even entertain the possibility I would be meeting an old nightmare.

We could just leave.

My jaw clenched painfully as the traitorous thought rattled around in my head. A part of myself cursed at my mind for daring to suggest such a cowardly move, but another part quietly watched, neither agreeing or disagreeing with the sentiment.

Even if I spent hours explaining how big of a threat the Frenzied Flame was to Galadriel or to any of the other members of the fellowship, they wouldn't be able to fathom even a sliver of how foul it was. Sauron was an evil being, make no mistake. He had clear goals to subjugate all who resisted his rule, and clearly held no qualms of destroying anyone who got in his way. But that was something well-recorded through history. People understood Sauron's desire for dominion, as I was sure other beings have attempted to do so in the past.

But would they understand just how uncaring the Frenzied Flame was? A maddening fire, seeking to 'cleanse' the earth all the way down to its roots, leaving nothing but flames and death in its wake. Few here could comprehend the scale of the destruction, and fewer still would believe it would be able to do so in the first place.

Even I barely believed it at first. When I heard of its existence from the hushed words of Kalé all those years ago, I dismissed it as creative folklore at best. It seemed like it was nothing more than a tall tale created to scare little children into behaving lest the Frenzied Flame take them. And even if the Frenzied Flame was real, who would believe it desired to burn away the entire world? All the other Outer Gods only seeked to rule. And you couldn't rule over a world with nothing in it.

But I quickly learned that every story, no matter how small, always had at least a crumb of truth to them. I remembered coming across a tiny village, tucked away in the confines of a dark forest in the Weeping Peninsula. I was young and brash then, and I paid no heed to the strange villagers with burning yellow eyes and low moans.

I remembered how I felt when I finally realized that the Frenzied Flame was a real threat when I came across a village guarded by a flaming tower in Liurnia, and barely escaped death when a spectral knight with warped armor and fiery spear attacked.

I remembered the horror that rang in my soul despite the hollow grief that filled me as I descended deeper and deeper into the sewers, seeing the charred bodies of thousands of innocent merchants across countless floors.

And worst of all, I could remember the hissing whispers of the Flame in my head, filling me with nothing but thoughts of madness as I shakily pulled out my sword from its sheath, pointing it towards my friend as she blocked me from reaching the heavy iron doors just up ahead.

No words could convey the sheer horror the Frenzied Flame brought. Middle Earth was not prepared to handle a threat of this magnitude.

And to be honest, neither was I.

I forced my jaw to relax when I realized I was now biting hard enough on my lips to draw blood. It was a cowardly thing to leave, I knew that. Countless souls, from Men to Elves to even Orcs would perish. And there was no hope of a peaceful death once the Flame got you. I had felt how the madness would tear me up from within firsthand, ripping my soul apart before death blessedly took me to the nearest Grace. This world would burn if no one fought against the Flame, and Ranni and I were the only ones in Middle Earth who could even hope to face such a threat.

But even as the shame swirled around me, I couldn't help but consider such an option. To leave this place as fast as I could, going back to the refuge of the stars where the Flame couldn't reach. I wasn't sure if it was a combination of weariness or the horror in my heart that fueled these thoughts, but they clawed at my resolve like desperate, scrabbling, burning fingers.

Anyone who knew of my past would agree that Ranni and I had fought for long enough. Decades of toil and sacrifice and misery followed us as we brought our plan to fruition, facing countless foes along the way. Joining the fellowship on their quest was no cakewalk, make no mistake, but it was nothing that we weren't prepared for. But now the Frenzied Flame was brought into the fray, and I knew that this quest was growing more dangerous by the minute.

I squeezed my eyes shut, but the shadows of flame flickered behind my eyelids. How much more did Ranni and I have to give up? How much longer did we have to fight this terrible threat that could never be killed?

I willed for the images of burning bodies and the Flame's maddening laughter to stop echoing in my skull. I felt Ranni in my mind, a cool and steady touch that kept me grounded and prevented me from falling deeper into despair. But despite her presence, I would find no comfort nor answer to my questions. She was silent as we made our way deeper into the woods, and I could tell that she too was weighing our options.

The heavy silence continued until we finally reached the living quarters. Despite me still being in a haze, I could hear a song echoing in the trees, the haunting melody washing over me. I didn't understand any of what the elves were saying, but the feelings of loss and sorrow were not lost on me. Why the elves were singing such a thing was unknown to me, but it did nothing to help my mood.

The elf that had accompanied me turned to face me once we reached a wooden gateway made of weaving vines and golden leaves. He bowed once, his face betraying nothing as he gestured over to the gate. I nodded back after a beat, tiredly watching as the elf gave me one last concerned look before he strode away.

I gulped when I heard the distinct conversations of the rest of the fellowship just around the corner, the shame that swirled around me still not abating.

I should tell them.

But not tonight. Far too much had happened in such a short amount of time. While they deserved to know what new threat now faced their quest, I couldn't bring up the courage to bring it up. Especially since I was still struggling with the traitorous desire to leave this place and never look back.

I forced those thoughts deep within me as I stepped through the open gate, taking in a deep breath as I made my way past the large tree that blocked my view of the fellowship.

Several things happened at once as soon as I walked around the corner. Every single member's heads snapped towards me, and I realized most of them were in their sleepwear. Or, in Aragorn and Boromir's case, without their armor. And speaking of Aragorn and Boromir, they seemed to be in the middle of some kind of argument, judging from the angry expression on the noble's face and the tired look on the ranger's. Gimli was presumably asleep, waking only when Legolas tapped him none too gently on the leg to wake him up. The hobbits rose from their cots, scrambling to snap to attention when I drew closer. They all awkwardly bowed to me, their movements jerky and unsure as if they had no idea what the formal way to do so was. To my chagrin, they were followed by the rest of the fellowship, though they opted for small nods of their heads rather than a full bow.

I sighed as I waved my hand, inwardly begging for the hobbits to raise their heads. "Please don't do that," I winced, "I'm not your lord, and I don't need you to treat me any differently."

There was a moment of silence as the fellowship stared, which quickly shattered when Merry and Pippin all but collapsed on their cots, breathing out exaggerated sighs of relief. "Oh, thank goodness for that!" Merry quipped playfully, waggling his eyebrows at me. "For a minute there, I thought we'd end up becoming your squires to make up for disrespecting a king!"

Despite the ache in my heart and the heavy weight on my shoulders, I felt a small smile break across my face. "Elden Lord," I corrected softly, "But I suppose I'm pretty much the same thing."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Pippin chimed in, his eyes wide with innocent curiosity.

To my surprise, Boromir also spoke up from the sidelines, his voice calm but betraying barely concealed tension. "I would like to know as well," he said, fixing his eyes on me, "You are wed to a goddess, this we know. But for us to find that you are the lord of an entire world; why did you keep this hidden from us?"

I blinked, the dread in my bones momentarily pushed aside by simple confusion as I let myself be led over to an extremely comfortable looking cot by a very courteous Sam. I shot the hobbit a questioning look as I set down my satchel, catching the beginnings of a shrug from him. "I reckon he and Strider are having a bit of a row," he whispered, glancing over his shoulder, "Somethin' about Gondor and all that business."

I nodded at him before turning to face the noble. From what I had seen from an outsider's perspective, Aragorn and Boromir's relationship always seemed a little strained. Sure, they often worked together and took charge in tandem when the situation called for it, but they were always standoffish towards each other. I never really poked around to figure out why.

"I never meant to keep this from any of you," I replied as I displaced my armor, leaving me in flowing, comfortable sleepwear, "It just never came up." I huffed slightly as my gaze dimmed. "Not that the title matters anymore anyways. The Old Order in The Lands Between is gone. I'm a lord in name and nothing else."

"But you are still a lord," Boromir insisted, his voice now beginning to be laced with frustration, "A lord bears responsibility for their people, whether the order stands or falls. Even if your Order is gone, your duty to your people remains. To claim the title and then cast it aside—that is nothing but a disservice to those who look to you for help!"

Something heavy lingered in the air in the wake of his proclamation. Everything was quiet now. Even the elves that had been singing just a few minutes prior seemed to have finished, leaving nothing but the gentle caress of the forest air. The rest of the fellowship seemed to be holding their breaths, their eyes bouncing between me and the irate noble rapidly. Aragorn especially seemed invested, though his expression made it clear he wished to be anywhere else than here.

My confusion faded, quickly becoming replaced with a simmering heat that spread through my chest. I felt my fists unconsciously clench as I forced myself to remain calm. "Careful, Boromir," I warned, my words feeling sharp on my tongue, "You're talking about things you don't understand."

Boromir's expression tightened, but he didn't back down. Instead, he stepped closer, meeting my glare head-on. His eyes were fierce with conviction and anger, but despite the intensity of his gaze, I somehow felt that not all of it was directed at me. "I understand plenty," he shot back, "I understand what it means to carry the weight of duty, to have an entire kingdom depend on you for guidance. I know what it is to see your people suffer, to watch them fall deeper into despair with every loss despite how much you struggle."

He then ripped his eyes away from mine, and to my surprise he then turned to face Aragorn, who looked back at him wearily. "But despite this, those who lead must still fight! Not for themselves but for those they are charged with protecting! Why would anyone continue to struggle when even their own lord has left them in their time of need?"

Everything connected in an instant. Despite my growing temper, I found myself faced with some newfound insight on my new friends. Boromir wasn't angry at me at all. At least, not directly. No, the person he was truly frustrated with was Aragorn. And judging from the direction the conversation was going, it was beginning to dawn on me that Aragorn was more than just a Ranger. He was nobility as well, maybe even something more than that if Boromir was this upset.

I blinked as I appraised Aragorn in a new light. Boromir was the son of the ruling Steward of Gondor. I had heard that much from the others. But that just begged the question—why was a Steward ruling Gondor? Where was their king?

The pieces finally fell back into place: why Boromir's relationship with Aragorn was so tense, why Aragorn was always so careful when talking about his past, and why I'd walked in on the two of them arguing about Gondor.

Aragorn was the king of Gondor.

Before I could even fully process this revelation, Boromir whirled back to me, and I could see something desperate blazing in his eyes. "A lord cannot abandon their people," he declared, his voice rising with every word, "You call yourself a lord, yet you are here, far away from your lands and from those you are sworn to protect. To turn away and run off on some adventure while your people suffer and perish is nothing short of cowardice!"

I could hear a few of the hobbits gasping as his voice rang out into the silence of the forest, the words cutting through the stillness like a blade. The world seemed to hold its breath, with everything and everyone standing motionless as Boromir's chest heaved slightly in the wake of his outburst. His face, flushed from the heat of the moment, slowly began to pale, the wild look in his eyes fading as the weight of his accusations hit him.

The fellowship was frozen, wide-eyed and tense as Boromir took a step back. Even Gimli, who had been sleepily watching the exchange from his cot, was alert, his eyes darting between us. No one so much as breathed.

As if waking from a trance, Boromir's face shifted to a look of shock, blinking rapidly. His mouth opened and closed as if he was grasping for the right words. He stumbled slightly as the anger drained out of him, now realizing just how much he had overstepped. "P-Phaeryn…" he stammered, alarm and disbelief growing in his voice, "I…I did not mean—"

"Shut up."

He wasn't the only one to flinch. The entire fellowship inched backwards as I uncrossed my arms, anger rippling through me like a barely controlled storm. Boromir's eyes darted away to avoid my gaze, but there was nowhere for him to go. He shrank slightly as I took a small step forward, driving home the fact that he knew he had gone too far.

"You don't understand at all," I spat, "You think it's that simple? That I don't think about my actions because I want to galavant around without a care in the world? That I'm running away from my responsibilities even though my people are praying for their lord to come back? You didn't even entertain the possibility that there's other things at play."

I could feel my fists tightening, my nails digging into my palms. "You have no idea about how dark things were in The Lands Between. Hundreds of thousands killed in useless wars. Demigods and lords murdering each other, scrambling over scraps of control. People getting drunk off what little power they had to kick down at anyone beneath them. Gods using us as playthings for their own pleasure. You want to talk about duty? Duty was killed long before the Elden Ring was shattered."

"Ranni and I didn't make our choice to leave because we didn't want to deal with anyone anymore." I continued, uncaring of how the air itself was beginning to grow heavy as faith coursed through my veins. "We left because it was the only choice we had that would ensure our people would be free. Free from gods or lords trying to control their entire lives." Ranni's presence faded into my head, but she stayed silent. "I could have stayed. I could have just restored the oh-so-perfect 'Golden Order' and ruled over The Lands Between like how Marika used to, because she always knew best. But just how long do you think that would last?"

Boromir gulped as I forcefully met his gaze, allowing the full strength of my pain to shine through. "I would have brought the world right back to square one. I'd be dancing in the palms of an Outer God like a doll, forced to do its bidding until it gets bored or I outlive my usefulness. My subjects would be killing and backstabbing each other for eternity to get even a crumb of extra power. Who knows, I could break the Elden Ring this time, once I had enough of all the craziness. Maybe this time I wouldn't be used as a pincushion as punishment."

I should have stopped at this point. I knew that. I was saying too much, venting my anger and pain on someone who didn't even really deserve it. Boromir couldn't have known my reasoning for leaving. Of course he would be upset at seeing a lord supposedly shirk her duties to her people. I doubted he was even really upset with me in the first place.

I knew it wasn't fair in the slightest. The fact that I was mentally and emotionally drained from our ordeal these past few days and learning that an Outer God had infiltrated Middle Earth was no excuse. I should be better than this. I should have a better handle on my emotions.

But I just couldn't stop. The words just kept spilling out, like a dam that had its foundations finally crumble under the stress and pressure. And for some reason, I couldn't find it in myself to care.

"Not a single damn day goes by where I don't wish we can go back." I said, my voice now starting to tremble slightly. "Back to see our family, our friends, our people. To laugh and eat together just like old times. But leaving was the only way to protect them. The only way to give them a chance to live a life that's their own, and not some stupid game to be played with by gods and lords. They deserve better than that."

I forced myself to take a breath, suddenly feeling myself sag. My voice felt hollow as I let my tired eyes gaze fall over everyone else, seeing them all still completely silent. "Do I regret not being able to go back? Always. But do I regret making the choice to leave so everyone can finally have a shot at living a peaceful life? Never. Not on my damn life."

I looked at Boromir then, letting him see it all. The regret, the sorrow, the determination. "Call me a coward if you want. But our situation was different. We didn't leave in the middle of a war or during a time where our people needed us. We left after sacrificing everything we had so they could have a chance to be free. They don't need anyone to rule over them. Not anymore."

An overwhelming wave of exhaustion crashed over me as soon as the words left my mouth, and all the heat and anger that had driven my voice just moments ago drained out of me in an instant. The silence that followed was deafening, as thick and oppressive as smoke. I could see Boromir trying to form words, his mouth gaping like a fish, but the shame I felt drowned out whatever sound he might have made. I let myself lose control. I felt raw and exposed, like an open wound that festered for far too long.

I didn't want to hear any more attempts at apologies. No more justifications or pity. Not from him or anyone else. At least not now. "I'm done," I said quietly, my voice reduced to a hollow murmur, "I'm going to bed."

With a slow, deliberate movement, I turned away from the fellowship, who still stood rooted to their spots, as silent as statues. My heart dropped when I felt their burning eyes watching my every move. I couldn't bear to face them right now. Whether it was understanding or judgment, it didn't matter.

Boromir tried to speak from behind me, his voice catching in his throat. "Phaeryn, I'm sorr—"

But I didn't let him finish. "Just…leave it." My voice was tired and hoarse, and I didn't trust myself to say anything more. I needed to be alone. To breathe, to stop my thoughts from spiraling further. "I'll see you all in the morning."

I walked away without another word, pausing only to grab my belongings and the cot that had been provided for me. I felt the eyes of my companions follow me until I rounded the corner of a large tree, its branches finally shielding me from their view.

Each step felt heavier than the last as I made my way towards a small alcove shrouded with leafy ferns, the boughs granting me at least a modicum of privacy. I half-hazardly tossed the cot into the empty space before I let myself sink down into it.

But despite the comfort and tranquility, I couldn't block out everything. My raven locks hung over my eyes like a curtain as I buried my head into the crook of my arms.

It was just too much. I didn't expect that coming to this world would force me to confront things I had no desire to face again. I knew it wouldn't be easy. If several gods were asking for help in their world, things had to be bad. But I never imagined they'd be this grim.

The despair that clouded the fellowship. The death of Gandalf. The quest to rid Middle Earth of the evil that was Sauron. And worst of all, the terrifying revelation that the Frenzied Flame was here too, ready to burn this place to the ground. And I doubted it would stop here.

Again, I was assaulted with the traitorous thoughts of leaving this world and never looking back. I felt something hot catch in my throat as I tried to force the thoughts away.

Maybe Boromir was right. Maybe I was a coward. A coward scared of sacrificing everything she had again, all the while terrified of being consumed by the madness once more.

I beat back a shiver as old scars and burns began to ache, gritting my teeth as I hugged my arms around myself. I couldn't do this. I didn't want to think anymore. Not tonight. The argument with Boromir had been the breaking point, but that was no one's fault but my own.

I curled up on the cot, pulling the ferns closer to block out the last bits of light seeping through. My breathing began to slow as Ranni's presence sent gentle pulses of soothing energy through my body. The phantom pains and echoes of desperation started to fade, pushed back by her steady touch.

She didn't say anything; she knew that words would only make things worse right now, forcing me out into the light when all I wanted was to disappear into the dark. Even through the despair, a small flicker of gratitude warmed my chest, and I hoped she could feel it too.

After what felt like an eternity, the tension in my body finally began to ease. My eyes grew heavy, slipping shut as sleep finally claimed me, and I let myself be lulled into the arms of St. Trina while Ranni hummed a quiet, comforting melody.

[-]

"Phaeryn, please, don't do this!"

A voice. Gentle and pleading, but cracking at the edges.

"You must not continue. This is not you!"

A flicker of fire. A heat so intense that it felt like it was searing the air itself.

"Listen to me, you must resist! Fight it!"

A laugh. Cold, twisted, but horrifyingly familiar.

"I…I am sorry…" The voice was less frantic now, replaced by grim resolve. "I cannot let you give in."

A flash of light and a flurry of action. The air, filled with blasts of flame and the howls of crazed laughter.

And then a scream. Not one of fear or pain, but of grief, the noise echoing in these dark caves as I stared down at the crumpled body, everything burning and burning as a voice laughed and laughed and laughed—

I jolted awake, my body tense and drenched in sweat, as if I had been running for leagues. My breath came in shallow, quick gasps, the echoes of the nightmare clinging to me like a suffocating fog.

My heart pounded in my chest as I forced myself to close my eyes and breathe deeply, counting each exhale in an effort to force the images back into whatever dark corner of my mind they crawled out of. Slowly, the haze began to fade, and I focused on what I could feel: the brush of the dawn air over my face, the softness of the cot beneath me, my fingers clenching and relaxing against the covers.

A familiar chill brushed against my mind as the thunderous pulse of my heart smoothed out into a passable rhythm. I huffed out a mirthless laugh as I opened my eyes, seeing that weak beams of sunlight were now penetrating the alcove. You should be asleep.

"And so should thee." Ranni's voice was soft, like the first cool breeze of winter. "What ails thee, my dear?"

It was clear she already knew the answer. I recognized the gentle cadence in her voice. I managed to sit up, brushing my fingers through my hair in an effort to untangle the twisted braid I had sadly neglected to undo. I'm alright. I assured, convincing not even myself. It's just…I was back there again.

She hummed, the action sending tingles down my spine. Her presence drew closer, her soul resting gently on mine as she sent a soothing calm through my body. I stayed like that for a long while, sat up on the edge of the cot while the birds outside slowly began to chirp, signaling the arrival of the sun over the horizon.

After the soft pause, Ranni's voice spoke again, now laced with a question. "If thou wouldst permit it, Phaeryn, I desire to make a request of thee, shouldst thou be well enough to hear it."

My answer came swiftly and without hesitation. Anything.

"Now that I am no longer as restrained by the Valar's spell, I wish to join thee," she said, "A simple walk, together, in Lothlorién."

I blinked, stealing a quick glance through the boughs of the trees above. The sky was a blend of deep orange and pink, touched with a smattering of wisps of cloud. By my guess, it must have been around five in the morning. Far earlier than even the fellowship would normally wake up at. A walk? Now?

A hint of a smile echoed through her voice. "'Tis clear that sleep will not find thee again soon. Nor will it find me. And I am curious to explore these lands on mine own feet. I feel that we may both benefit from the open air."

Her tone adopted a slightly more playful one now, though it was undeniably touched with sincerity. "And didst thou not promise to grant a second honeymoon, hm? I would have thee honor that vow—beginning with a walk together, free from the company of others."

Despite the fact the echoes of the nightmare had not completely faded and my mind was still cluttered from the events of last night, I felt myself smiling. "Your wish is my command, princess."

I took a quick moment to pull my hair into a loose ponytail before brushing past the leafy curtain that hid me from the outside. Almost immediately I felt goosebumps rise to my skin as I stepped into the morning light. I stole a deep breath, feeling a sense of calm overtake me as the crisp air filled my lungs. With a small twist of my fingers, my loose clothes replaced themselves with something a bit more suitable. Warmth suffused me as a coat covered my body, along with some padded leather trousers.

I knelt down to grab the doll from my satchel, straightening as it started to shine and grow, signaling Ranni's arrival. In a flash, my wife stood gracefully in a solitary sunbeam, looking like she had stepped out of a beautiful painting.

Ranni immediately started to look around, her face betraying nothing but her actions clearly indicating she was more than pleased to finally be able to freely roam these lands without being worried about the spell attacking her. I snorted in amusement as she took in the treeline and the stunning architecture above, her eyes, corporeal or otherwise, twinkling with intrigue.

After a few moments she turned to me once more, reaching out with a free arm to wrap it around my own. "Shall we, my lord?"

The darkness in my heart faded quickly with the teasing tone, and I graciously pulled her forward, heading towards the gateway leading to the outside.

A slight worry gnawed at my chest as we rounded the corner, which would put us in the company of the rest of the fellowship. I hoped few would be awake at this hour. Not that I no longer felt comfortable in their presence, but more so the fact that I wasn't exactly ready to face them just yet. I had let a shameful and angry side of myself show last night, and I wanted to avoid any awkward conversation at least for a little longer.

Luckily, it seemed like most of the men were still fast asleep. I felt no small sense of relief at hearing Gimli snoring away like the bellows, nearly drowning out the beginnings of birdsong in the trees above. The hobbits were wrapped up in their blankets, with a few of them pressing their pillows against their heads in an effort to drown out the noise.

Aragorn and Boromir were settled not too far from the rest of the group, both of them deep asleep. I felt a wave of guilty relief in seeing that neither were awake yet, simply because I wasn't willing to interact with them, especially Boromir, just yet.

And, to no one's surprise, Legolas was the only one up, sitting serenely against a nearby tree as he popped what looked like fresh grapes into his mouth. He raised his head as we drew closer to walk past the group, his eyes soft as met mine. He then froze mid-chew, his expression shifting into one of pure shock when he noticed Ranni at my side.

Quickly, he scrambled to put down his food and rise to his feet, clearly intending to bow to her. But Ranni raised a free hand, stopping him just as he began to stand. She gave a small shake of her head, offering him a reassuring smile.

The poor elf was caught in an awkward limbo, unsure if it would be ruder to remain standing or to sit back down. In the end, he remained half-risen, hovering over his seat.

Without a word, I pointed towards the open gates, then gestured vaguely in the direction of the sleeping fellowship. Thankfully, Legolas understood immediately. The panic on his face faded into understanding as he nodded, a knowing twinkle in his eye as he glanced up at me.

I gave him a small, grateful smile before walking away with Ranni in tow, carefully moving without a sound as we slipped out of the living quarters.

I barely noticed I let out a small huff of relief once we made it far enough to make noise without disturbing the others. Ranni squeezed my arm slightly in understanding, shooting me a comforting smile.

Giving her one of my own, we rounded the corner that led us back out into the open streets of Lothlorién, only for me to nearly flinch back in surprise as we almost collided with one of the guards stationed nearby. He drew back slightly at our approach, his expression neutral until he looked up.

Before I could excuse ourselves, the elf's gaze fell upon Ranni, who gave him a polite nod. It was almost comical to see how his eyes grew as wide as saucers when he realized who he was looking at, snapping from boredom to astonishment. In an instant, he stood at attention with far more grace than any normal human could even hope to match. "Ranna Isilё and Lord Phaeryn." He breathed, his voice trembling with reverence as he bowed low at the waist. He had a slight accent, making the Common Tongue he spoke sound like it was lilting. "Forgive me, I did not realize you would be awake at this hour."

I found myself impressed, if a little put off, by how quickly word spread in Lothlorién. We had literally arrived last night, and only a few elves saw our fellowship. And only the two elf lords and the guards saw Ranni in person. Did this place just have a state-of-the-art communications system that told everyone exactly who Ranni was and what she looked like?

He hesitated, clearly unsure of what to say next. He didn't dare to raise his head, as if such a casual transgression would be insulting to us. "Is there something you require? I would be honored to assist, should you need anything."

I stood there, caught a bit off guard. The growing silence only made things more awkward, with me feeling like I should say something without quite knowing how to phrase it. Sure, I was Elden Lord, but I never actually had the chance to train myself in courtly or noble etiquette. I was always too busy fighting giant lobsters or crawling through caves rather than engaging in any formal conversation. The closest I'd come to anything resembling a "lordly" exchange was when I would joke around with Roderika, mimicking her flowery mannerisms and speech whenever I visited the Roundtable Hold.

Of course, I could just tell him he didn't need to be so formal, but there was no way he would take that at face value, especially when a literal goddess was staring right at him.

What was I supposed to say? A dismissal? A simple shake of my head?

Blessedly, Ranni stepped forward, her composure cool and composed, looking every inch the noble she was born as. "Peace, soldier," she said gently, her voice regal and elegant, "There is no need for such formality on our account. We only seek a quiet walk together ere our companions wake."

He straightened slightly then, but the awe remained, his eyes flicking between the two of us.

"May I ask for thy name?" Ranni asked warmly.

The elf seemed to draw himself up just a smidge further, as if he was honored that such a person would even bother asking. "I am Thalion, my lady—of Captain Haldir's company."

Ranni inclined her head gracefully. "Well met, Thalion. Be at ease; we are simply enjoying the early hours and exploring the beauty of thy fair city. There is no need to trouble thyself further."

The tension seemed to ease from Thalion's shoulders as he bowed once more. "Of course, Ranna Isilё, Lord Phaeryn."

He took a step back to allow us to pass, his eyes lowered in respect but not without a touch of curiosity lingering behind them.

I felt a small wave of relief wash over me as Ranni gracefully guided us forward onto the nearly empty streets, the air now filled with growing warmth as the early morning rays leaked through the trees.

Once again, I found myself impressed with the beauty of this place. The city glowed with ethereal light last night under the full moon, but it practically gleamed in the wake of the rising sun. Soft, golden rays penetrated the canopy above, casting dappled light across the silver trunks of the ginormous trees. Their golden leaves shimmered like waves of gold, and the elegant bridges and stairways connecting to the trees and their branches seemed to almost float in the morning light.

But as awestruck as I was of this place, it was nothing compared to Ranni's reaction. I found myself smiling more than once as we walked along the streets aimlessly, not particularly focused on heading in a specific direction. The witch seemed serene as usual, carrying the aloof grace that always accompanied her person, but I knew my wife long enough to know that she was enamored with Lothlorién. Her eyes were constantly moving from one spot to the next, and every so often she'd reach out to run her fingers along the smooth wood of a tree or the intricate carvings of a nearby guardrail, even if she didn't seem to realize she was doing it in the first place.

Despite this, I could feel the slight strain in my smile. No matter how much I tried to get lost in the beauty of this place, the events of last night hung over me like a cloud in my thoughts. The argument with Boromir sat heavy in my stomach, the shame of losing my temper gnawing away.

And of course, there was the Frenzied Flame. The knowledge that it was in Middle Earth weighed on my shoulders, and no matter how bright the sun was or how nice the breeze felt, I couldn't shake the feeling that it would all be burned to the ground if nothing was done about it.

My grip tightened imperceptibly on Ranni's hand. She must have sensed my turmoil—she always did. At one point, when we crossed over a small bridge overlooking a bubbling stream, she brought herself close, her cool touch grounding me as we watched a family of ducks bob along the gentle waters. It was a small thing, but it was enough to remind me that I wasn't alone. I let myself relax a little. There would be a time for this later. Right now, I should be enjoying this lovely walk with my wife.

Time seemed to blend as we walked further along the winding paths of Lothlorién. The minutes stretched as we took in the amazing sights all around us, with Ranni even taking note of several architectural designs she found were worth investigating. I had no doubt I would be greeted with the sight of elven architecture when I came back to our home in the stars.

Soon, the trees opened up into a wide, open space that was reminiscent of a town square. The canopy above opened up to reveal the sky above, the orange and pink now fading as blue began to dominate. The ground below was overlaid with thousands of small tiles, made of a blend of marble and other stones I couldn't identify. A willow tree stood tall in the middle of the square, its leaves a shimmering gold rather than the usual green, as a small pond bubbled next to it.

Looking around, a few of the buildings were starting to bustle with activity, with their residents starting to make their meals and opening up shop. A few of the elves were milling around gracefully, their presence looking almost otherworldly in how perfect and serene they looked. It was almost reminiscent of what Leyndell would have looked like, if the entire city wasn't dilapidated and absent of any remaining people.

The elves turned as we approached, their expressions lighting up with surprise. One of them, a tall elf with auburn hair, stepped forward quickly, bowing deeply. "Ranna Isilë and Lord Phaeryn," she greeted warmly, "You honor us with your presence. What can we do for you?"

I immediately delegated talking duties to Ranni by stepping slightly behind her. Her spectral face shot me an amused look before she turned her attention back to the elf. "My consort and I are simply taking a quiet stroll through Lothlorién. By mere happenstance we have come upon this place."

The elf nodded, taking the whole 'consort' business in stride. "If I may be so bold to ask, have you had the chance to have breakfast?"

I fought to keep my stomach from growling. I hadn't even noticed I was feeling so hungry. If anything, I was surprised I didn't notice it earlier; I haven't had a bite to eat since yesterday, and that didn't even count as a meal since all I had was several strips of dried meat whilst walking through the forest.

Ranni glanced over to me, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. I could tell she was just as interested in a meal as I was, our walk having worked up an appetite. "We have not. But we would not object to the thought."

The elf straightened, a flicker of excitement in her eyes. "Then, would you allow us the honor of providing the both of you a meal? We have begun preparing meals for your companions before they wake, but we can easily prepare one for you now, if you so wish. It would be a privilege to serve such esteemed guests."

Ranni side-eyed me, and I shrugged slightly. "That sounds amazing," I replied, a thankful smile on my face.

The elf's smile widened as she gestured for us to follow her, clearly enamored with the opportunity to feed us. We walked along to follow her, mindful of several elves shadowing us as well. I shared a look with Ranni, who simply squeezed me once on the arm.

It was…strange, being attended to. Ranni was no doubt used to it, having grown up in royalty for most of her young life, but this was all completely new to me. Despite remembering very little of my life before coming to The Lands Between, I knew enough to suspect I was likely a commoner of some sort, judging by the rags I woke up in. If I had stayed in The Lands Between after ascending to Elden Lord, I had no doubt I would be faced with a steep learning curve once I had servants attending to me and the like, but thankfully that never got to happen.

We were led through a series of winding paths that snaked upward, higher into the branches of one of the great trees nearby. As we ascended, a gentle breeze swept through the leaves, carrying with it the scent of fresh greenery and baked goods. Eventually, we arrived at a secluded platform nestled high among the branches, where a small table awaited us, granting us an uninterrupted view of the entirety of Caras Galadhon under the sunrise. The sight was breathtaking, with the soft light dancing across the golden leaves, casting the city below in a warm glow.

I made a show of pulling out Ranni's chair in an exaggerated gesture of chivalry. She let out a soft, amused huff and playfully pinched my side before settling into the ornate chair. I took my seat across from her as she removed her wide-brimmed hat, placing it neatly on the back of her chair.

Just as I began to wonder how the elves would manage to bring food all the way up here, no less than a dozen appeared with trays of food and drink, as if they had phased out of the tree. In no time at all, the table was set with fresh fruits, still-steaming rolls of buttery bread, and beautifully prepared dishes of roasted vegetables and fish. The smell was enough to make my stomach grumble, and despite my hopes that no one had heard it, Ranni's smirk from across the table was all the answer I needed.

I raised my eyebrows, impressed, as the elf from before poured us cups of what looked like herbal tea, the smell tinged with the light smell of pressed flowers and fruits. We quietly thanked her as she bowed at us once more. "Would it please you to listen to music while you enjoy your meal?" she asked, gesturing behind her with one hand.

To my mild shock—and horror—a troop of elves had appeared out of nowhere, each of them holding what looked like flutes and stringed instruments. I struggled to keep a splutter from escaping when the elf who had spoken earlier looked at me expectantly. "Uh…that's very kind, but I think we're okay."

I shot a pleading look at Ranni, my chest tightening with a brief flash of panic as a mischievous glint appeared in her eyes. She tilted her head, pretending to consider the offer, her lips curving just enough to make me think she might actually let them play.

Thankfully, after drawing out the moment just a little too long, Ranni turned to the gathered elves and smiled warmly. "Thy kindness is most generous," she said smoothly, "but Lord Phaeryn and I would prefer to savor this exquisite meal in private. We thank thee for thy work, and are deeply grateful for thy hospitality."

The elves practically glowed under her compliment, with a few of them reverently whispering 'Ranna Isilë' under their breaths as they quietly withdrew. I watched them go, not for the first time wondering just how deeply devoted the elves were to the gods. This treatment went a bit beyond what the fellowship had been exposed to, and I couldn't help but feel a touch of bemusement.

As the last elf retreated down the winding path, I focused my attention on the veritable feast in front of us, seeing Ranni do the same, though with much more grace than I. It had been a bit too long since I had a meal like this. The past few days had been a blur of dried rations and hurried meals, especially during our time underground in Moria and our long trek through the forest.

But before I could let myself get too lost in the tempting meal, I caught Ranni's eye as I reached for my cup. She smiled softly, instantly understanding, and copied my movement quietly.

I felt a slight tightening in my chest as I raised the cup up towards the sky in a toast, gazing upward as if his spirit might be watching from above. "To Gandalf."

Ranni followed, her voice mirroring my melancholic tone. "To Gandalf."

We both took a silent sip of the fragrant tea, the warmth spreading through my body as we sat quietly for a moment.

I felt the weight in my chest loosen slightly. The sadness of losing Gandalf still hung over me, though it was now more of a dull ache than a sharp one. I'd dealt with loss before—too many times—and I knew that I'd feel the impact of losing him for a while longer. But for the first time in a while, I was beginning to make some peace with it. I hadn't known the wizard for very long, nor did I agree with him on certain matters, but he was a good man. Gentle, yet unyielding, he sacrificed his life so that we could live. We were lucky to have met him.

After a beat of retrospection, I glanced down at the food and back to Ranni, a smile on my lips. "Looks like we have a lot to enjoy here."

My wife chuckled, gently picking up a roll of bread. "Indeed, we do. But thou art deserving of such a moment of respite."

We both started to eat, letting the soft morning light and the gentle breeze make the meal feel even more satisfying. I grabbed a piece of roasted fish, savoring the fresh taste as Ranni took her first bite of the grilled vegetables in front of her. I couldn't help but notice the way her eyes widened slightly, the barest flicker of satisfaction crossing her face before she took another bite, more quickly this time. I couldn't help but smile. Sure, it had been years since she regained a living body, but she was still very much enjoying the pleasures of the flesh. And having the chance to indulge herself in this excellent cooking on a whole new world definitely intrigued her to no end. I was always happy to see her delight in such simple joys.

Plus, her reactions were extremely cute.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself," I said lightly, raising an eyebrow as I took another bite of fish.

Ranni glanced at me, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I had not enjoyed a properly cooked meal since thou hadst departed to Middle Earth," she admitted softly, before taking a sip of tea, "A meal shared with thee is a simple pleasure I have missed."

I felt something soft in my heart at the admission, suddenly feeling an overwhelming adoration for my wife as I took a sip of my own tea. "Speaking of things you've missed, you still owe me that story about what exactly you and Radahn did to poor old Uncle Grum."

She gave me a sidelong glance, the hint of mischief sparking in her eyes. "Ah, thou hast remembered, hm?"

"Of course. You can't just tease me with that and then leave me hanging," I replied, taking another bite out of the roasted fish.

"Very well, then," she smiled, "'Twas when Uncle Grum forbade brother dearest from spending time with Leonard, after he had woken up far too late for his morning lesson…"

Minutes passed by in a quiet, comfortable rhythm as Ranni recounted her story, blending effortlessly with the gentle rustling of the leaves and distant songs of birds. I found myself losing myself into the atmosphere, enjoying how Ranni's eyes twinkled as she talked about her younger self, and hearing her soft voice filled with amusement at Radahn's antics. The meal before us slowly started to disappear as we picked at the rich and delicate flavors of each dish, marveling at how the skills of the elves rivaled that of some of the finest chefs in The Lands Between. The tension that had weighed so heavily on me began to slowly melt away, making me feel a sense of peace I hadn't felt in days.

At least for the moment, I let myself ignore the problems that had plagued me and the rest of the fellowship. It was just me, Ranni, and the quiet beauty of Lothlorién in the soft light of the rising sun. The tension that had taken hold of me after my argument with Boromir and the burden of knowing an old nightmare had resurfaced again felt distant. I would have to face it eventually. But for now, I could at least breathe for a while.

As Ranni's tale continued, I found my mind growing clearer, the haze of doubt and frustration lifting little by little. I hadn't made my choice yet, but the path forward no longer felt as dark now. I was starting to understand what I needed to do.

For now, though, I allowed myself to be pulled into the simple joy of listening to my wife talk to me about two tiny red-headed children pulling what was possibly the most convoluted prank in Caria's history.

I almost choked on my apple as I stared incredulously at my smug wife. "A whole cart of glintstone scraps? You're telling me you used that much?"

She preened as she took a delicate bite of bread. "'Twas necessary to achieve the desired effect."

I shook my head in disbelief. "How did you even manage to get all that? Don't tell me you raided the royal armories or something."

That last part was said as a joke, but Ranni's lips quirked as if she were trying to suppress a smile. I groaned good-naturedly as I finished off my plate. "Don't answer that. I'm surprised Queen Rennal—" Ranni raised a brow. "Er…Mother, only made you train with him for a month. I'm sure the treasury took a hefty dip to repair the damages from that little stunt."

My wife dabbed her lips with a beautifully embroidered cloth napkin. "Most of the punishment did fall upon Radahn, as expected," she said, "But I dare say the forced training was not without its merit. My swordplay is now adequate enough, beyond what thou might imagine."

Her eyes gleamed slightly with a hint of mischief. "In fact, I wager it is far more refined than the brutish style thou doth call 'swordplay,'" she teased, her lips curving into a sly smile, "Thy technique is effective, but it lacks the elegance and finesse one expects of a true duelist." Her voice dropped slightly, the tone turning undeniably suggestive as her gaze lingered. "Mayhaps I should instruct thee in the finer arts, hm?"

Something hot bloomed in my chest at her sudden husky tone. I leaned forward, fighting to keep the interest out of my tone as I smirked at her. "Oh? I thought you liked that 'brutish style' I use."

The witch rested her chin over steepled hands. Her expression feigned innocence, but her voice was anything but. "Oh, I do enjoy it…when it suits the occasion. But perhaps a balance of both might be…more to my liking. Wouldst thou not agree, my lord?"

A pleasant shiver ran through my spine as I fought to keep my cheeks from heating up. Something hungry stirred deep within me, a feeling that had nothing to do with the meal we had just finished. I leaned in ever so closer, my smirk turning almost feral as I locked eyes with Ranni. "Oh, I'm sure we could find a way to…balance it out," I whispered, savoring the way her eyes darkened, her gaze becoming hooded with something deeper, "Though, I wouldn't mind a little demonstration of that elegance you're so proud of. Mistress."

Her eyes flickered with desire, and the title I had just reverently whispered only seemed to fuel the heat between us.

Our lips met in a heated embrace as Ranni's hands immediately reached out to grasp at the collar of my tunic, pulling me as close as possible without knocking plates off the table. The coolness of her lips against mine sent a spark through me, and as I hungrily reciprocated, I tasted the subtle tartness of raspberries lingering on her tongue.

I knew she had been lonely without me back at our home, but I had clearly underestimated just how much she had missed me. In hindsight, it should have been obvious. Since our ascension, we had never spent much time apart, even if the grounds of the recreated Caria Manor were plenty large enough for us to go days without seeing each other. And ever since Ranni regained a flesh and blood body, she had become almost completely dependent, clinging to me with a quiet intensity that I couldn't help but adore.

She moaned against me, low and needy, and I growled in response, fitting for my so-called 'brutish' nature. As the heat pooled in my chest, I couldn't help but be thankful that none of the elves had insisted on staying to attend to us. I was sure they would be feeling a little more than uncomfortable seeing us like this.

But just as I was beginning to wonder where Ranni and I could find a place to continue in private, a voice suddenly cut through the haze. "Forgive the intrusion, Ranna Isilë, Lord Phaeryn, but one of your companions is asking for you," an elf called from the stairs, his voice respectful and terrifyingly getting closer.

We pulled apart instantly, my breath catching as I sat back just as the elf's head appeared from over the stairs. I struggled to compose myself, desperately trying to fight off the blush creeping up my cheeks, and adopted what I hoped was a casual posture. Ranni was much more subtle, snatching at her hat to cover her features, though I could still see just how brightly her spectral face was glowing in embarrassment.

I cleared my throat as the elf approached, hopefully blissfully unaware of what we were up to just seconds prior. I could still feel the frustration of being interrupted simmering just under the surface, but I forced it down, trying to keep my voice steady. "Someone's looking for us?" I asked, somehow managing to maintain a neutral tone. "Who is it?"

The elf bowed, thankfully not seeing the blush that still covered my cheeks. "Sir Boromir, Lord Phaeryn. But he was asking specifically for you."

The embarrassment and frustration quickly faded into slight worry and resignation. As much as I still liked Boromir, I couldn't help but feel that he had been a consistent mood-killer through our entire journey so far. And the fact he was seeking me out could only mean one thing: he wanted to talk about last night.

I sighed, mourning the loss of the intimate moment between me and my wife. "I'll head down right away. Can you give our compliments to those who made the food? It was excellent."

The elf straightened, his eyes twinkling when Ranni nodded in affirmation as well. "You honor us. It would be our privilege to craft meals for you in the future as well."

I stood up from my seat, giving Ranni a quick look. She gave me an encouraging smile as she also rose as well, gracefully making her way around the table to link her arms through mine. Though the earlier passion had passed, her touch immediately grounded me, a calm settling over me that I sincerely needed right now.

Together, we made our way back down the winding steps of the tree, nodding at a few of the elves that were coming up, presumably to clean up our table. The sun was now high into the sky, sending down warming waves of pleasant heat through the leaves, prompting me to displace the coat I had worn in the morning.

As we descended to the base, my eyes found Boromir, who was standing alone beneath the golden willow tree at the center of the square. He hadn't seen us yet, his focus clearly elsewhere as he distractedly paced back and forth.

He looked horrible, with dark circles under his eyes and a hunch in his shoulders. I guessed he only got a few hours of sleep. I watched as he fidgeted with a fallen willow leaf, slowly tearing it apart between his fingers, either not noticing or caring of the narrowed glares of the elves that walked by. Small bits of gold fell to the ground as he finished ripping apart the leaf, and he leaned down to grab another, repeating the anxiety-fueled process.

Ranni gave my arm a gentle pat, her silent way of offering support. "Hold thy faith, Phaeryn," she murmured softly, giving me one more encouraging look before she split off to engage with a group of nearby elves.

I could see their expressions light up as they bowed profusely to her, clearly honored that a goddess had graced them with her presence. Their conversation was too low for me to overhear, but I could tell Ranni was praising them for the food and maybe asking them more about Lothlorién. I sincerely wished I could be with her, but there was no escaping this. With a quiet sigh, I steeled myself and headed straight to Boromir.

The nobleman looked up as I approached, his eyes growing wide as he hurriedly discarded the half-destroyed leaf. Now that I was closer, I could see that he looked much worse than I had expected. His clothes were rumpled, as if he had been rolling around in his sleep all night, and a few of his belts and buttons were loose, adding to his disheveled appearance.

But despite his clear exhaustion, he straightened, clearing his throat and shuffling forward. "Phaeryn," he greeted, his voice almost cracking.

I nodded to him, keeping my expression carefully neutral. "Boromir. What can I do for you?"

I winced inwardly at the stupid question, but there was no taking it back now. An awkward silence hung between us as we stood there, both unsure of how to continue. Boromir shifted, his gaze flickering between me and the ground, clearly wrestling with his thoughts. My mind raced, wondering if I should apologize first. After all, even though Boromir started the argument, my outburst dragged him into something he clearly didn't deserve and wasn't prepared for. I knew he was under immense pressure—he clearly had duties as the son of the Steward of Gondor, and the weight of his kingdom probably weighed heavily on his shoulders. Not to mention that we were on this immensely dangerous quest with the Ring influencing him with every step. Maybe it would be best if I make the first move and acknowledge that I was in the wrong for burdening us both.

My lips parted to speak, but before I could say a word, Boromir took a deep breath and bowed, catching me off guard.

"Phaeryn," he began, his voice strained but sincere, "I owe you an apology. My behavior last night was…unacceptable. You were right—I spoke of things I did not understand and allowed my frustration to cloud my judgment. I had no right to cast doubt on your honor or question the decisions you made as Elden Lord."

He lifted his head, his eyes filled with remorse as he met my stunned gaze. "I acted out of fear for Gondor and anger towards Aragorn, but that does not excuse my words. For that, I am truly sorry."

The apology hit me a bit harder than expected as he lowered his head once more. I'd prepared myself for tension or maybe a difficult conversation, but this sort of straightforward humility was unexpected. Or, maybe I should have expected it, especially with how noble I knew Boromir was. I was especially surprised to hear him talk about his animosity towards Aragorn so readily. I knew they probably had a feud going on, but I hadn't expected too many to know exactly what happened between them.

I could figure out what Boromir's deal with Aragorn was later. I put my hand on Boromir's shoulder, feeling how he flinched under my touch as if he was half-expecting me to hit him. I brought him up, smiling reassuringly at him. "There's nothing to be sorry about," I said softly, "Honestly, I should be the one to apologize."

He opened his mouth quickly, no doubt to argue, but I cut him off before he could speak. "I know you're juggling a lot right now—Gondor, this quest, the whole thing with Aragorn. I don't blame you for lashing out. Marika knows I did that plenty of times when I first became a Tarnished." I smiled ruefully. "You've got a lot on your shoulders, and I already see that. Which is why I should have handled last night better. I pushed back when I shouldn't have, and I'm sorry."

Boromir shook his head furiously, clearly determined to shoulder the blame. "No, Phaeryn, it was my fault entirely. I let my anger control me, and I said things I had no right to say. You were justified in your response. I should have kept my emotions under control."

I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms. "Boromir, as Elden Lord, I should have handled it better. It's practically the one thing I'm supposed to do." I leaned in, lowering my voice in mock seriousness in an effort to dissolve the tension. "And as Elden Lord, I'm ordering you to forget about it, Sir Boromir."

He blinked, caught off guard by the shift in the tone. Something almost like relief mingled with confusion lingered in his eyes, but I could see that his guilt and self-doubt were doing their best to smother it out. But I wasn't just about to let him take all the weight on himself.

"Look," I continued, "we both let the situation get out of hand. You're dealing with a huge burden, and I let my temper get the best of me when it shouldn't have. Even when I went to bed last night, I didn't blame you, not even once. So don't beat yourself over the head with guilt, especially if most of that is rightfully my guilt."

He still looked unsure, his brow furrowing with hesitation. I thought quickly, trying to find a way to somehow ease the tension. Then it hit me. "Tell you what," I said, an idea forming, "If you really feel like you want to shoulder the blame, how about we settle this with a sparring session? Blow off some steam. Winner has to do a favor for the loser—within reason, of course."

He blinked at me, confused. "The winner? Did you not mean to say the loser has to honor this bet?"

I waggled my brow at him. "I mean, I could have made it so the loser has to do the favor, but let's be honest," I said, making sure to infuse a joking tone into my voice, "I'm pretty sure I'm going to win."

"B-But that is simply unreasonable," Boromir spluttered, "That will mean you will be forced to grant a favor of my choosing if I lose!"

I grinned at him, wide but not unkind. "Then I guess you'd have to try extra hard to beat me! I'd love to see if you have any tricks up your sleeve."

For a moment, I was worried I might have pushed too far. He fell silent, his jaw working as he considered my offer. To be honest, I was probably just as, if not more, anxious as he was. It had been a long time since anyone had apologized to me like this, insisting on taking the blame when I was just as responsible. The last time someone had tried was with Boc.

Finally, Boromir lifted his head, and I was relieved to see a spark of amusement mingled with relief in his eyes, a hint of his usual energy finally returning. "Very well," he said, a faint smile pulling his lips, "If that is what you wish, then it will be done. But do not think this will go like our first duel, Phaeryn. I will be victorious this time."

I pulled him up, feeling the weight of the moment lighten just a little. "We'll see about that, Boromir."

We shared a brief chuckle at that. It was good to see a bit of light return to Boromir, a brighter energy that had been smothered out of him since we stepped foot in Moria. Things would still be awkward for a while, I knew that. But this at least felt like a step in the right direction—a way to move past the tension and find a path forward. With any luck, this sparring match might give us both the release we needed, and hopefully allow us to put our little spat behind us.

I felt a cool presence brush against me, and I turned just in time to have my face press against the wide brim of Ranni's hat. She smiled kindly at Boromir as I recoiled slightly, trying to push the fabric away from my mouth. "Good morning to thee, Sir Boromir. I am glad to see thee in better spirits than the night before."

Boromir bowed, recovering quickly from her sudden appearance. "Goddess Ranni," he greeted respectfully, "I was told Lady Galadriel had found a way to counteract the Valar's spell, and it gladdens me to see you able to join us."

He hesitated just a tiny bit, and I could already tell he was about to apologize for his behavior again, this time to Ranni. I shot him a look just as he opened his mouth, and his jaw snapped shut with a small click. "Phaeryn and I had just finished," he said instead, keeping his tone respectful, "Forgive me from pulling her away from your company. I shall take my leave now, so you may enjoy the rest of your walk together."

Ranni nodded gracefully as she linked her arms with mine. "My thanks. And know that, like Phaeryn, I hold no ill will toward thee for thy actions. Thou art a strong and gentle soul, Sir Boromir. Do not let fear and doubt cloud thy view of thyself."

His breath hitched slightly, and I could tell he was honored to hear such a thing from her, even if he didn't fully believe it himself. He seemed to want to say something, but instead opted for lowering his head in a deeper bow.

I cleared my throat, prompting him to rise. "We'll come back to you all in a bit. Ranni and I won't be long."

He nodded, something I couldn't quite place shining in his eyes. "I shall let the others know. Enjoy yourselves, Phaeryn, Goddess Ranni."

I gave Ranni a nod before giving one last look to Boromir, then turned to follow her in whatever direction she had in mind. Whether by gut feeling or from some guidance from the elves she had been talking to, she seemed to know exactly where she wanted to go, and I was more than happy to follow her lead.

We made it only halfway across the square when Boromir's voice rang out from behind me, solid and firm, echoing through the trees. "Phaeryn!"

I stopped, mild confusion crossing my face as I turned back to him. Boromir stood there, visibly struggling with something, his lips moving as if he were searching for the right words. For several moments, there was only silence as he wrestled with whatever it was he wanted to say.

Then, at last, his eyes met mine, and I saw a mixture of honest gratitude and relief in his gaze. His voice, steady and sincere, broke the quiet. "Thank you."

I held his gaze for a beat before smiling back at him, and without another word, I turned to continue on.

The dense ball of unease and worry that had been lodged in my chest finally began to unfurl. As Ranni and I walked between the towering trees and over the soft murmurs of bubbling streams, a sense of calm finally settled over me. For the first time in days, my mind felt clearer, the weight of everything easing just enough for me to breathe deeply again.

And as we crossed through a gateway leading up to a large hill, I knew the path forward.

[-]

If the view from our dining spot in the trees was amazing, the view from atop this hill was enchanting.

Ranni and I sat on the apex of the hill we had spent the past few minutes ascending, overlooking the entirety of Lothlórien bathed in the light of the noon sun. The grass beneath us was soft, swaying gently in the breeze like waves on the ocean.

According to Ranni, this particular spot was known as Cerin Amroth, the very heart of the city. Her earlier conversation with the elves had given her notice of the fabled 'Amroth's hill,' apparently named after the Elven lord who once lived there.

The hilltop was encircled with two circles of trees—an inner ring of white-barked trees and an outer ring of the larger silver trees. The beauty of the place was undeniable, but I couldn't help but feel that there was something deeper in the air. A sense of love and loss that lingered, almost as if the hill itself was filled with these emotions. It was hard to put into words, but I knew these feelings were real.

We sat in silence, the world around us hushed except for the gentle rustling of the leaves and the soft, rhythmic sound of the wind through the trees. Ranni leaned into me, her cool presence soothing, her arms wrapped around me as we nestled closer. There was no need for words. Just the quiet, the beauty of this place, and the warmth of simply being together.

The minutes stretched out as we watched the city, seeing elves continue on with their daily lives. Even from this distance, I could hear the soft sounds of laughter and music echoing in the air. My mind wandered, turning over the events of the past few days. It had been difficult, with the horrors of Moria and the death of a good man, but I couldn't help but feel that there was still good we had seen as well. The friends I had come to care for. The beauty of this land and the people that lived here. The willpower to continue on, even if it seemed the whole world was against us. There was a clarity here, beneath the golden trees and in the soft breeze, giving me a sense of peace that had been missing these past few days.

Finally, the decision I had been wrestling with since the previous night settled firmly in my heart. I'd been waiting for an answer for what felt like forever, but in this exact moment, wrapped in the arms of my beloved and in these foreign lands, it was clear.

"I'm staying," I whispered, the words slipping from my lips, half to myself, half to Ranni.

She didn't move at first, and for a moment the wind and the birds were all that answered me. But then she turned her head to look up at me, and there was no surprise in her eyes, only quiet understanding. She smiled softly. "I know."

I huffed ruefully, drawing up my legs under my chin. "You knew the whole time I'd come to this decision, didn't you?"

Ranni leaned in closer, gently covering my hands with her own. It was only then I realized my hands were trembling violently, enough to make my entire body shiver. Her touch was steady, grounding me as always. "The woman I have come to love would never leave what she holds dear," she said softly, her eyes warm, "Thou art not one to turn thy back when the need is greatest. I have known this from the beginning."

She paused for a moment, her fingers squeezing mine just a little tighter. "And we shall walk along this path together, no matter where it leads."

My jaw throbbed from how tightly I was clenching it. "Even if it means we have to face it again?"

Ranni's voice softened to a whisper as she cupped my cheek with a cool hand. "Thou art afraid."

I leaned into the touch, desperate for the comfort it brought, but for once it did little to quell the deep-rooted terror in me. "Terrified." I admitted, the word scraping out of me, heavy and raw. The moment I spoke, the fear surged through me, twisting in my chest like a dull knife. "It's done too much to me. To us. I don't know if I'll ever be ready to fight it again."

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my ears as I looked up, locking eyes with Ranni, trying to make her see the depth of the horror I felt. Memories of fire, of screams, of grief—all of these clawed their way up from the recesses of my mind. "But I'm more scared," my voice cracking, "to leave this world, knowing we could have done something to save it."

The weight of that possibility pressed down on me, suffocating, horrifying. The thought of walking away while Middle Earth burned under the flames of madness. The guilt and regret would break me, more so than any battle I had ever faced. The Frenzied Flame might have scarred me, leaving behind wounds and burns that I doubted would ever heal, but to abandon my friends and their people as the Flame tore their minds and souls apart…that was a fate worse than death.

I couldn't let that happen to them. I wouldn't.

Ranni's gaze softened as she took my cheeks in both hands, leaning in to press a gentle kiss on my brow. The touch of her lips wasn't quite electric, but it nonetheless somehow dispelled much of the haze that was clouding my mind. She pressed her forehead against mine, forcing me to stare into her steady, fierce gaze. "Thou wilt not face this battle alone," she promised, "Not as thou did before. Thou wilt no longer walk along a path by thy lonesome any longer."

Her thumbs brushed lightly against my skin, the action drawing me back from the storm raging inside me. "Thou hast me, Phaeryn. Always. And the fellowship will stand beside thee and fight by thy side. Whatever trials lie ahead, we shall all face them together."

I choked out a gasp, shutting my eyes as I leaned against her. I could hear her voice grow softer, but the conviction remained strong. "Thou art stronger than thou dost believe, my dear. And with those who love thee by thy side, thou hast the strength to move forward." The hushed memories of the Flame and the echoing screams began to fade the longer she held me in her arms. "We shall not let the flames consume this world. Nor will we let them consume thee."

Her grip on me tightened, as if she were sealing her vow. "Together, we will prevail. And when the darkness comes, we shall be there to guide thee through. Thou shalt never have to face this doom alone again."

Something hot ached from behind my eyes, but I refused to let the tears fall. My chest felt tight, my emotions a chaotic mess of everything I'd been holding back—fear, doubt, and guilt—but I found that I no longer felt afraid. What was brewing inside me was something else entirely. A new conviction, one that burned and pulsed with every passing second. And in the center of it all, an undying love for the woman holding me and the friends I cherished, both new and old.

I clung to Ranni for what felt like an eternity, taking in her presence as the weight of everything settled within me. The roiling emotions, once overwhelming me like a tsunami, were no longer as frightening.

And for once, I felt like we could do this. Together.

Finally, I looked up at her once more, feeling heart aching at just how much I was feeling for the woman in my arms. My voice came out as little more than a whisper, almost imperceptible against the rustling of leaves. "I love you. So, so much."

Burning, glowing azure was all that filled my vision, carrying with it just as much affection as I felt. "And I thee, always."

My lips found hers, warm meeting cool in a gentle union. This wasn't a hurried peck of inexperienced lovers, nor was it the fierce, fiery passion we'd shared earlier. It was slow and languid, a kiss that carried the weight of everything we felt for each other. Time itself slowed, allowing us to savor the delicate moment. Each soft brush of our lips felt deeper, more intimate, like drinking from a sweet stream on a summer's day, refreshing and pure.

I felt an overwhelming sense of love and belonging, more fulfilling than any passionate embrace could ever hope to achieve. It was a quiet, deep connection, as if every part of my being had found peace in her touch, making me feel complete.

We broke apart after a long moment, the world slowly coming back into focus. As our lips parted, a deep sense of peace settled over me, stronger than I had felt in years. The cracks that had marred my soul over time, the scars, the weight of endless battles—they all felt so distant. They weren't healed. Not in the slightest. But for the first time in a long time, I felt whole. And now, with Ranni and my friends by my side, I knew with unwavering certainty that we could do this.

I wasn't going to fight this alone anymore, and that knowledge filled me with a fire that burned hotter than any fear.

Then, Ranni turned her head slightly, and though her gaze was still fixed on mine, I could tell she had sensed something behind us. I turned, and together, we saw a familiar figure slowly making her way up the hill to us, her movements graceful but undeniably hesitant.

Even from this distance, I could see the uncertainty etched on Galadriel's ethereal features. And it was clear to see why. I would have lost some of my faith too if my only hope had crumpled to the ground at the mere mention of a new foe. She must have spent all night wondering—would we leave? Would we retreat back to the safety of our home in the cosmos, far away from this strange new world under fire of a looming threat? Or would we stay and fight, knowing that the enemy we faced was more dangerous than even Sauron?

But as I stood there, my grip on Ranni's hand steady, unbreaking, I knew with absolute certainty what we had to do. I turned to meet Ranni's calm, azure gaze, feeling that same fierce resolve pulsing between us through our connection. I smiled, small yet unwavering, knowing we were united in our choice.

Galadriel drew closer, her steps hesitant no longer as her gaze found ours. And in that moment, I saw it—the flicker of confidence, the spark of hope rekindling in her eyes. The fear and doubt that had weighed her down seemed to fall away, like shadows retreating before the light of the full moon.

And as the sun shone brightly overhead, bathing Cerin Amroth in its golden light, I knew that, together, we would face whatever came next. We would fight for this world, for our friends, for all they held dear. Because that was the cause we had sworn ourselves to follow all those years ago.

The journey ahead would be fierce and filled with unknown perils and horror, I knew this for a fact.

But we were ready.

No matter what it took, we would see it through to the end.

[-]

Sorry this took so long to come out, I was hella busy and also suffering from a hefty bit of writer's block. Turns out I have a lot of trouble writing dialogue and introspective scenes. Hopefully it turned out okay in the end.

But I'm glad I'm finally done with this behemoth of a chapter, and I hope you all like it too! I tried my best to capture the beauty of Lothlorién and all of its people. I also hope I did Galadriel justice, and get everyone's mannerisms correct. Especially with Boromir and all that, for some reason I found that the hardest to grasp.

And oh boy, looks like an old enemy is here! We all know how evil the Frenzied Flame is, but why is Phaeryn having such a visceral reaction to it? Could it be something happened between her and the Flame in the past? Only time will tell, and I hope that once I finally get around to exposing everything that happened I could live up to your expectations.

From here on out, the story is gonna slowly start to diverge. Things will loosely follow the same setting and pacing, since I don't know if I'm gonna be that good of a writer to put Phaeryn and Ranni in a completely new place, but things are markedly gonna be different down the line. And if you notice me leaving certain things out or not addressing others, I just ask that you be patient! I've been storyboarding this for months before writing this story, so trust me when I say most things are gonna be answered in due time. Obviously not all of it, since I'm not perfect, but I swear I'll tackle all the big and burning questions you have as the story progresses.

Unfortunately, this is going to be the last we see much of Lothlorién. There honestly isn't much for Phaeryn and the fellowship to do here, so the next chapter is pretty much going to start off with them all leaving and heading to the fateful battle you all know is coming. Hope I end up doing it justice, I'm always trying to improve as I go along.

Thank you all so much for reading, and I promise to get a chapter out as soon as possible!