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But in her web she still delights
To weave the mirror’s magic sights,
For often through the silent nights
A funeral, with plumes and lights
And music, went to Camelot
Or when the moon was overhead
Came two young lovers lately wed;
'I am half sick of shadows,' said
The Lady of Shalott.
- Alfred Tennyson
part i. my lover
The curtains had not been drawn properly. A sliver of sunlight crept into the room and extended onto the bed where Galadriel lay propped up by half a dozen pillows. She pulled her arms out of the blankets that were draped over her and reached a fingertip into the light. It took some seconds, but she began to feel a burning sensation just as she had expected to. Galadriel pulled her hand back and stared at her finger. The reddened skin extended further down and she blew gently on her finger in an attempt to ease the pain. She placed her hand underneath the blanket once more before closing her eyes and allowing herself to relax. Galadriel thought of her husband who was likely wandering the halls in Celebrimbor’s manor.
She could feel her strength growing as the sun set and the time of night drew closer. It was quiet here during the day, surrounded by forest as it was, but in the night the forest came alive with all manner of creatures. It had been for a creature that she had come here along with Celeborn. In a letter Celebrimbor had made mention of a dear friend he had welcomed into his forge. She had been intrigued for Galadriel knew he was not one to make such a decision lightly. His letter had included an invitation. Celebrimbor knew that she had been unwell, a sudden sickness had befallen her which knew no cure. He offered an opportunity to travel to his manor and take the country air which he hoped would be healing. Galadriel had leapt at the opportunity, she wanted to meet the man that had captured Celebrimbor so. She had anticipated a battle with Celeborn, loath as he was to expose her to anything which might exert her and worsen her heath; but he had readily agreed.
‘The forests,’ he had said, ‘Something haunts the forests near Celebrimbor’s manor and I intend to kill that creature.’
The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving an orange glow to the sky before Celeborn returned to her room.
‘How are you, dear?’ he greeted before moving across the room and pressing his lips softly to her.
‘Well enough for dinner.’
She straightened her posture in bed in her effort to convince him. He still looked at her speculatively.
‘I came here to recover and dinner with Celebrimbor is not taxing.’
She brushed her hand down his arm.
‘We shall go down to dinner together.’
‘Of course,’ she agreed.
Galadriel waited for him to leave her room before she left her bed. A sigh escaped her as her feet touched the wooden floor and she stretched her arms above her head. Her dress had been pressed and hung up for her. After her turning she had had a new wardrobe made, clothes where she could easily dress herself. Galadriel feared the questions that people would ask if they saw the scars on her legs and chest. Her turning had not been an easy experience. The dress was a deep blue, almost black and her hand flew over the buttons as she fastened them. She pulled her hair back into a severe chignon at the base of her skull. The effect made her look washed out, a woman who could not care for her appearance because she was too focused on staying alive.
She met Celeborn on the landing outside their rooms. He offered her his arm and she gladly took it, offering him a smile. The staff ushered them straight into the dining room where Celebrimbor waited. The deep red of his suit dazzled in the candlelight.
‘I thought we might keep things more informal since Lord Halbrand is unable to join us tonight.’
The table was set around one end, she would be watched closely tonight then.
‘How unfortunate,’ she muttered blandly, tamping down on the disappointment that rose within her.
How annoying to be forced to eat food and have nothing to gain from it. Celebrimbor moved to the head of the table and motioned to the chair.
‘Galadriel, please.’
She smiled and nodded as she took the seat at the head of the table. The first course arrived only moments after the men were seated. Course after course she stuffed her mouth with food that tasted like cotton to her as she smiled and responded where appropriate. She was halfway through a glass of wine when Celeborn spoke,
‘Well that was delightful.’
Dinner was over at last.
Her husband came to help her stand. Over her head, Galadriel could tell another silent conversation passed. She ignored it. She longed to return to her room and read - Celebrimbor did keep a quality library as he believed it was appropriate for a gentleman of his standing to do so - and then she would hunt in the night.
Hours passed until she heard Celeborn’s breathing slow in the adjacent room. He did not rest easy tonight. Galadriel climbed out of her window, crawled down the side of the wall and slipped into the gardens. The tall trees of the forest lingered on the edges. She took a deep breath and exhaled, the untouched air filling her lungs. For now this still pause called to her more strongly than the hunt did. She watched an owl high in one of the trees as it fed on a mouse.
‘You shouldn’t be here.’
Galadriel turned. Too quickly. She hoped that the dark hid enough of her movements. A man stood behind her. Dark hair that almost reached his shoulders and curled at the ends and eyes that were carefully fixed on her.
‘I could not sleep.’
She never slept at night now. She pulled her nightgown tighter around herself before crossing her arms over it. He watched her silently. Galadriel saw his gaze drop to her bare feet and his eyebrows raise slightly. Shoes made gripping the sides of buildings harder. She needed to speak to distract him before he asked more questions.
‘You are the friend Celebrimbor spoke so highly of in his letters. Lord Halbrand.’
‘And you must be Lady Galadriel.’
She nodded before her attention was drawn back to the owl.
‘It is a beautiful creature is it not?’
With every word she heard him step closer until he was by her side as they gazed at the owl together. A soft sigh escaped Galadriel.
‘Do you not envy the freedom of the owl? Free to fly and roam. Free to feed and sustain itself.’
His eyes were sharp when he looked at her.
‘Certainly.’
Neither spoke again. She did not know how long passed before he left just as silently as he had arrived and she slipped into the forest hoping to find a wayward traveler.
She watched him through the window. Galadriel clung to the side of the building watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. His heartbeat echoed in her ears as her fangs grew sharp. She stole one last look at him before climbing down. Sadly, a fox would have to do for tonight.
She jumped as the door opened. She had not heard the footsteps in the hallway, distracted as she had been by the story unfolding within her hands.
‘Lady Galadriel, I did not expect to see you here.’
She waved her free hand dismissing his words. It was a cloudy day, rain coming sporadically. Her husband and Celebrimbor had decided to ride through the forest despite the weather. And, considering how few people were left inside, she had felt confident enough to leave her room.
‘Let me leave you to your knowledge gathering in peace,’ she said.
‘No need to leave on my account. What are you reading?’
She held it up for him slightly. The Lady of Shalott.
‘Tennyson?’
‘No other,’ slight sarcasm in her tone.
‘You read stories of heroes?’
He stalked towards her like an animal hunting its prey and she felt her fangs lengthen in response.
‘I have no need to read of heroes. The stories of men mistakenly celebrating their prowess hold no appeal.’
‘Then what do you hope to find?’
She carefully placed the text down on the table near her before facing him again. Controlling her response.
‘Is it not enough to read a story of a woman cursed?’
‘Do you feel some affinity, Lady Galadriel?’
‘Don’t all women? Cursed as we are.’
‘I can only imagine.’
His mouth lifted in a smirk. She could hear him mocking her.
‘I shall not disturb you any longer.’
She walked past him to the door. She was in the hallway before she heard him call after her,
‘Mayhaps we will meet again in the forest, Galadriel. Bourne along on the streams of fate.’
She ignored his words. It did not escape her notice that he had dropped her title.
He had left his curtains hanging at the sides, his windows were open. It was an invitation to her, as clear as day. Galadriel had worried her hints had not been clear enough, that she would need to wait longer to taste him. It was clear now that those worries were baseless. She lingered, watching him stir within his bed. He was restless tonight. His eyes opened, barely a crack, and yet she knew he saw her when she heard his sharp inhale.
‘You’re here,’ he whispered.
An invitation. She smiled as she entered.
‘You wanted me here, didn’t you?’ she whispered as she moved closer to his bedside.
‘Yes,’ his voice was roughened by sleep.
She stopped at the edge of his bed and bared her teeth to him slightly. Rather than shying away as she had almost expected, he reached out towards her. The thrill of it caused her to shiver slightly. Celeborn had always bragged about how he would never let those creatures harm her. How well, how carefully she had hidden her truth that he had not even guessed that she was the enemy he had long hunted. Galadriel now pressed her lips gently to this man that Celebrimbor had named friend. And then bit his throat. She knew that the sigh of ecstasy that he let out would stay with her forever. The rich taste of his blood burst across her tongue. So much wanting in this man that it made her dizzy just to taste it. Galadriel pulled away before she could take too much. Just a taste would be enough for her. She kissed him softly and felt the brush of his tongue against her lips as he lapped up his blood that she had not swallowed. She could not help but bare her fangs at him again and laugh. He was just as hungry as her.
It was many nights until she returned to him again. Celeborn had grown worried about her health and slept in a chair in her room. This time, he made sure he was awake. She wore a thin nightgown and the light of the nearly full moon behind her turned it transparent, exposing all the contours of her body to him. As she stood beside him, he bared his neck to her.
‘Greedy, aren’t you,’ she whispered before her lips brushed over his neck.
‘Only because you are, Galadriel. I am your mirror after all.’
At the breaking of skin, he was jot just her lover, he was her devotee. So he waited, every night for her to come to him. And every night she did. An angel who graced him with her presence. And every night he licked his blood from her lips with reverence. When they lay in bed together he allowed himself to speak and voice his fear.
‘They said that they would send me away from here for my health.’
‘If they take you from me, I’ll tear the world apart to find you.’
She would never taste blood like his again. He pulled her tight against him, allowing her body to leech the heat of his.
A fortnight passed since they had arrived here. At dusk her husband called her into Lord Halbrand’s room. He had whispered to her that the man likely did not have much longer to live. Galadriel leaned over the sickly figure in the bed as her husband poked and prodded at him. In the corner, Celebrimbor fretted over the fate of his friend. Lord Halbrand looked as if he were at death’s door awaiting only admittance now.
‘The evidence is clear,’ her husband said. ‘The creature I am hunting is here. We are so close.’
His eyes burned with determination as he looked at her.
‘We will destroy it,’ she replied.
Celeborn leaned down slightly to whisper to the other man. While he was distracted she let her fingertip graze over Halbrand’s hand.
‘If you let this go on it will kill you.’
‘Then let it. Place my body in a lead coffin, deep within the ground and I promise you I will rise again just to find her.’
She inhaled sharply. She watched as her husband’s head slowly rose and his eyes widened. He appeared as if he was seeing her for the first time. She watched as his hand moved towards the blade at his side. Galadriel leaned over and placed her arms beneath Halbrand, lifting him as if he were a child with her inhuman strength. She dodged Celebrimbor and leapt out of the window behind her with him in her arms.
part ii. my hunter
Her soft embrace was a welcome balm to the sharp pain that rioted through his body. He had largely lost awareness, remembering only snippets before she had brought him here. The yell of male voices, her arms cradling him as if he were a child, and sweetest of all had been her whispered words that she would stay by his side. A moan of agony slipped from him and instantly her hands brushed gently over his face, to calm him. He remembered her promise that she had made in the cover of darkness when she had come to him, that she would turn him so that they could spend an eternity together as they deserved. He wanted it more than anything else he had ever desired. Her hands covered his eyes and he slipped into darkness.
He awoke slowly. He awoke alone. She had left him here, likely she had grown displeased with his helplessness. He could not blame her for that. And then he heard it, a flurry of footsteps growing closer by the second. She emerged into the opening of the forest. He felt as if he was seeing her with new eyes, for she had never appeared like this before. As if she was lit by the full moon itself. She knelt across from him and her perfection grew paradoxically greater still when he realised the smear of blood on her jaw. He leaned into her and pressed his lips to the stain before allowing his tongue to swipe across it.
‘Halbrand,’ a breathless gasp that slipped from her as her hand tightened around the nape of his neck.
‘Will you treat your next target as you did me?’
He kept his tone light as his nose grazed over the underside of her jaw.
‘You and I were brought together by fate.’
‘Perhaps in the beginning.’
Her delicate kiss stole the rest of what he had intended to say. Her teeth at his neck now, he bore it to her again. He was hers.
‘I came here for you and you found me just as we both wanted. Let us not argue over what were the machinations of fate and what was our own scheming. Did we not get what we both wanted in the end?’
‘There will be no other who compares for either of us,’ he whispered.
He had known it from the beginning. From the moment he had watched her alight from the carriage, days later he had asked Celebrimbor about her so hungry had he been for any knowledge of her. How closely he had watched her every action and once he had gleaned the truth of her nature he had done all he could to attract her to him. How religiously he had tasted his own blood like the wine at church and hungered to taste hers in turn.
He heard an animalistic cry and pulled away from her. An owl flew into the opening, a mouse grasped within its talons. He felt it then, ravenous hunger so strong it threatened to consume him.
‘Galadriel,’ he could not voice what he desired because he had no words to do so.
‘I know, my love. I know. Let us hunt together.’
He allowed her to grasp his forearm and pull him to his feet until he almost loomed over her. He walked beside her as they left the forest and a thousand futures flashed before him of all the times he would walk beside her.