Chapter Text
The tall towers of Eregion were bathed in amber light when a tired and nervous Galadriel walked through the heated corridors of the forge. The interior was still filled with the acrid smell of burning and dust from the powerful explosion that had just taken place. Fresh traces of the explosion were visible everywhere, cracked stones, scattered pieces of metal and dark streaks of soot.
“What has happened?” she asked, surprised.
“The mithril is proud” Celebrimbor replied to her “It refuses every effort to bond it with lesser ores”
“Tapping into the powers of the Seen and Unseen World seemed to soften the boundaries between the two” Elrond noticed.
“Doesn't make any sense. We used enough pressure to fuse the heavens with earth. It should have held this time!” Celebrimbor could no longer hide his irritation.
“Patience. This is a journey. Not every step we take will be forward. It may take time” Elrond tried to calm him down.
“Time? We don't... We don't have time!” cried Celebrimbor.
“Perhaps that is enough for today” Galadriel stated „Perhaps we've been pushing ourselves too hard”
“Pushing ourselves too hard…” unexpectedly, Halbrand spoke from deep inside the forge.
Galadriel looked at him intently, and a shadow of suspicion crossed her eyes. Since arriving in Eregion, she had sensed something disturbing about him, something that contradicted his assurances about who he was. Over the past few days, he had become a completely different person. His tone of voice had changed, as had his confidence and the way he looked at her. At the same time, the longer she spent in his company, the more a strange tension grew within her, a mixture of fear, curiosity and a fascination that was becoming increasingly difficult to hide. She tried to keep her distance, but with every gesture and glance, she was drawn more and more to his presence and aura of unspeakable mystery.
“Supposing that's the trouble” Halbrand walked quickly past her and approached Celebrimbor “Supposing we've been using too much force”
“Meaning what?” Elrond asked.
“Meaning that the metals shouldn't be forced to join... But more drawn or coaxed together. Now, if that's true, we've been...” Celebrimbor began to laugh with evident relief “We've been doing it all inside out. Quickly. Dismantle this. We start again”
Celebrimbor and Halbrand feverishly set to work, and Galadriel grew increasingly concerned that she was missing something very important.
“My lady” suddenly, she heard and saw an elf holding a scroll.
She immediately approached him and left the forge with him. She did not notice Halbrand watching her intently and curiously.
Galadriel went straight to the garden, where the air was crisp and filled with the scent of damp earth and blooming flowers. She carefully unrolled the scroll and began to read the names, dates, and symbols of the ancient kings of the South. At the end of the list was the date of death of the last ruler and the information that he had left no heir.
She felt everything around her stop for a moment. So everything Halbrand had said was a lie... She ran her hand over the parchment, as if trying to find even the slightest trace that would contradict this truth, but she found nothing.
Suddenly, she heard footsteps behind her.
“Galadriel!” it was Halbrand “We found it. I don't know how we missed it before. It's too much power for one object. We need two. We're making two” finally, he stood in front of her, clearly excited.
She was still shaken by her discovery and could barely understand the meaning of his words. She held the scroll so tightly that her fingers dug into the parchment.
“Two crowns?” she asked, looking him straight in the eyes, as if trying to tear the answer to a completely different question out of them.
“Not exactly” he replied calmly, taking a step closer “It'll need to be something... smaller. Come, see for yourself”
Galadriel took half a step back.
“Not until you tell me who you are” she said firmly, without a hint of hesitation.
Confused, Halbrand froze for a moment, surprised by the sharp tone in her voice.
“You know who I am” he stated.
“Who you really are” he did not give in, although deep down inside her a wave of fear and anger was rising.
“Galadriel, I'm afraid I don't...” he stammered and looked at the scroll she was holding.
Then, in a rage, she threw it at his feet. The parchment unfolded on the damp grass.
“There is no King of the Southlands!” she said angrily “The line was broken. The last man to bear your crest died over a thousand years ago. He had no heir”
“I told you I found it on a dead man” for a moment, his composure was gone.
Galadriel shook her head and took a step back, as if she couldn't physically bear his closeness.
“No” she said with an effort “No, on the raft, you saved me...”
Halbrand took a step forward, carrying something dark and disturbing within him.
“On the raft, you saved me” he replied smoothly.
In one moment, something inside her snapped. She stepped back again, trying to control her breathing.
“You convinced Míriel to save the men of Middle-earth” she said reproachfully.
“You convinced her. I wanted to remain in Númenor” he denied it.
Galadriel was lost for a moment, stunned by her own memories.
“You fought beside me” she whispered with difficulty.
“Against your enemy. And mine” Halbrand looked at her with a hint of something ambiguous.
Galadriel's eyes widened in fear. She felt as if the ground was shifting beneath her feet.
“Tell me your name” she asked in a broken whisper “Your real name”
“You know it! My name is Halbrand, and I told you from the beginning that I am not a king, but you did not listen to me. You wanted me to be one so badly. You needed my name as a symbol of power to gain support for your cause...”
A piercing chill crept under her skin and slowly spread throughout her body. The garden was plunged into silence, as if time had stopped for a moment. The glow of the setting sun fell on their faces, and she no longer knew whether she wanted to defend herself against him or his lies.
“It's not true that I didn't listen to you” she tried to deny, but it sounded uncertain.
Halbrand looked at her with a mixture of sadness and resignation. His gaze seemed piercing, yet full of compassion. He shook his head gently, as if he regretted having to put her in this situation.
“From the moment we met, I tried to be honest with you” he began quietly “I told you I wasn't a king, but you insisted otherwise. I had no one... I didn't even have a name that meant anything to this world. Thanks to you, for the first time, I had hope that I had found a place where someone would appreciate me”
Galadriel felt a stab of guilt because his voice was so gentle, as if the only thing he wanted was understanding.
“What will you do now?” he asked fearfully “You brought me here of your own free will, and now you know that I am not a king. Will you tell everyone about this? Will you send me away from Eregion? Or will you let me stay so that I can continue to be your tool? Someone you can use whenever you need me...” he looked at her intently.
Galadriel raised her head, her face betraying everything she had tried to hide until now.
“I never wanted you to be my tool!” she said sharply.
“Maybe you didn't want to, but that's how it turned out. I just wanted to survive. I'm not important, Galadriel. I'm just a simple man you met at sea. But you must know that I never wanted to lie to you” he said humbly.
For a moment, they looked at each other as if both were searching for a trace of truth in each other. After a moment, Halbrand came even closer to her, and something between longing and shyness appeared in his eyes.
“What if I tell you that I don't want to go anywhere anymore? That I want to stay here... but not for glory, only for myself and... for you. What will you do then, Galadriel?” he asked quietly, as if each word was bursting with emotions he could no longer hide.
Distrust still showed on her face, but in her eyes there was a glimmer of desire she could no longer fight. She saw Halbrand shyly reach out his hand towards her. She hesitated, but did not pull away when his fingers brushed her wrist. It was a light and tender touch, as if they were both afraid of destroying the fragile balance they had just achieved. The warmth of his skin spread through her body and she couldn't stop herself from trembling.
“I don't know what will happen next” she admitted “but if you want to stay here... there can be no more lies or half-truths between us”
In response, Halbrand smiled gratefully and hopefully. He squeezed her hand lightly, as if to comfort her, but also to make sure she wouldn't pull away at the last moment.
“I promise” he whispered, running his thumb along the inside of her hand.
Galadriel lowered her gaze, allowing him this subtle gesture, which, though simple, meant more than a hundred words.
“What now?” Halbrand still held her “Will you come back to the forge with me?”
“No” she replied quietly, slowly withdrawing her hand from his “I must return this scroll to the archives. I would not want anyone else to find it”
“I understand. We'll meet later” he nodded, turned and headed towards the forge.
Galadriel watched his receding figure and couldn't calm her thoughts. She felt desire and fear clashing inside her. She didn't know if she trusted what she had just heard, or if Halbrand's every sentence had planted a new, more disturbing suspicion in her mind. It was only after a long moment that she picked up the scroll from the ground and headed for the archives, though she still felt as if she had left a piece of her heart in the garden.
***
The night in Eregion was quiet and almost unreal. Somewhere in the distance, forge furnaces roared, but Halbrand's chamber was dim and peaceful. The man had just begun to unbutton his dirty tunic when he heard an uncertain knock at the door. He froze, then slowly approached the door.
“Galadriel?” he whispered in surprise when he saw her “Is everything all right?”
“I know it's late” she began “but I need to talk to you”
Halbrand hesitated, but finally opened the door wider and let her in.
“I came because...” she sighed heavily “I know you're not a king, but you fought for the people of the South and almost sacrificed your life in that battle. Those people see you as their ruler. They need hope, Halbrand. And maybe... we shouldn't take that away from them”
The man looked at her intently, but there was something in the shadows of his eyes that she couldn't name. He was silent for a moment, as if weighing each word.
“Hope” he repeated bitterly “But what kind of hope is built on lies?”
Her heart beat faster. She took a deep breath, trying to find the strength to look at him.
“Sometimes light is the most important thing. The people of the South must believe that there is a future for them, even if it's just a symbol. At least until we drive back the darkness” there was something of fervent faith in her voice, but also a hint of doubt.
“Can you live with that?” he asked slowly “Knowing that it's lie may one day turn against everyone you want to protect now?”
“After so many years of fighting, I think I prefer a lie that gives hope to a truth that kills it. Sometimes, in the deepest darkness, the light must become deceitful to have any chance. I... I'm not proud of it. But I know that if we don't stand together to fight, the darkness will win again. You may be the one they need. You are their hope” t was clear how torn Galadriel was.
“Is that really their hope?” whispered Halbrand “Or is it yours?”
“I don't understand...”
“You speak of the people of the South, but it is you who have come to my chamber at this hour” he smiled with that disarming carelessness that always confused her.
Galadriel felt a slight blush appear on her cheeks, but she did not take her eyes off him.
“I came because we have a decision to make” she said firmly, but inside her, something disturbing was growing that she could no longer ignore “The people need someone to lead them to a better future”
Halbrand sighed and moved away from her.
“I don't want this, Galadriel” he said quietly “I don't want to be king. I'd rather be a blacksmith. I want to work with Celebrimbor and do what I do best. Although I know that then you won't even want to look at me...”
Galadriel frowned, confused by his unexpected confession.
“In what sense would I not want you?” she asked cautiously, though a barely perceptible fear betrayed her.
Halbrand turned his head away, as if something about her presence was causing him pain.
“Elves are rarely interested in ordinary humans. Especially those who have nothing to offer but their own hands. But you and I...” he moved closer to her, and the way he spoke left no place for doubt “If you were faced with a choice... king or a mere craftsman, salvation for Middle-earth or a life here, among ash and metal, what would you choose?”
Galadriel fell silent for a moment, not knowing how to answer him. There was something true and something mockingly provocative in his question, and she found herself trapped.
“It's not that simple...” she whispered finally.
“Life is never simple. Neither are our choices and desires” his voice was soft, but it vibrated with dangerous tension “You are looking for a king, but perhaps you are really afraid to see who I am... to you”
Galadriel stared at Halbrand, surprised at how little it took for his few words to move her so much. She could hear her own rapid breathing and felt a strange anxiety suddenly come alive inside her. She couldn't let him see it and tried to put on a mask of calm.
“I didn't come here for myself” she said quietly “It's about the future of the South. Their fate, not mine”
“Are you sure?” a hint of warmth appeared on his face, but his gaze moved slowly over her, as if he wanted to remember every detail “You know, sometimes a person would like to believe that their presence means something to someone. Even if it's just an illusion. You elves are so proud, but on a night like this... we are all equal. Without titles”
“You know nothing of my pride, Halbrand” she replied sharply.
“I know that when you came here, you left it at the door. Tell me...” he whispered and moved even closer to her “Is it really just about the South? Or is it something you're afraid to name?”
Galadriel felt rebellion rising within her against him and this power she could no longer ignore. Unfortunately, her eyes had already betrayed what she was trying to hide, and they both knew it. She straightened up and raised her head, assuming an expression of cold seriousness, though inside she was still seething with emotion.
“I'm here because I want to defeat the darkness, and nothing else matters. We owe it to these people, and you can't abandon them. They need someone they can trust”
Halbrand unexpectedly stepped back and looked away, as if to hide his confusion.
“I'm sorry, Galadriel” he whispered shamefully “I shouldn't have said all of that. Forgive me. Sometimes... when I'm with you, it's hard to control my words”
“I'm the one who should apologise. I probably shouldn't have come here” she said, already turning to leave, but then she looked back at him “Please, don't leave these people. Don't take away their hope, Halbrand...”
Without waiting for his answer, she left and closed the door behind her. He listened to her footsteps fading away for a long time, until finally, when the chamber was completely silent, a hint of a smile appeared on his lips.
Galadriel slowly entered her chamber and tried to gather her scattered thoughts. Halbrand's gaze and his tender yet anxious assurances swirled in her head. Each of his confessions, so sincere and vulnerable, struck her deeper than she wanted them to.
She began to wonder if she had forced him to say the words he later regretted. She shivered when she thought how close she had come to allowing herself to show even greater weakness. She had come to him with a demand and a mission, and she left with a sense of guilt and something intangible that tore at her peace and confidence from within. She wanted to believe that she had done it only for the South and that it was solely a matter of duty, but she knew that wasn't true. Her cheeks still stung and betrayed something she didn't want to admit.
“This is not worthy of an elf” she whispered bitterly.
She lay in bed for a long time, trying to find even a shadow of the coldness that had recently enveloped her heart, but tonight everything seemed different. Everything was becoming more dangerous.
In the morning, the first rays of light struggled to get through the curtains when Galadriel lifted her head from the pillow. She felt as if she hadn't slept at all. She slowly washed and dressed. She was just braiding her hair into a loose plait when she heard a knock on the door.
“Come in!” she called.
A young elf entered the chamber, whom she recognised as one of Celebrimbor's assistants.
“Lady Galadriel, Master Celebrimbor requests your presence in the forge” he said politely.
She merely nodded and was actually glad that she would not have to face her thoughts alone any longer.
The forge was surprisingly empty in the morning. Galadriel stopped at the threshold and immediately noticed that there was no one there but Halbrand. The fire glowed in the hearth, and the entire space was filled with only the steady, calm rhythm of his work. He stood focused, bent over the anvil, and Galadriel couldn't take her eyes off him.
His body moved rhythmically, and the skin on his arms and neck glistened with sweat. His tense muscles were clearly visible under his dark, open tunic, and every gesture betrayed years of fighting for survival. The glow of the fire emphasised his masculine features and made him dangerously fascinating. There was something primal and magnetic about him. His hair was messy from the heat and exertion and fell over his forehead and cheeks. There was a wild power in him that Galadriel couldn't resist, even though she wanted to so badly. Her unwavering self-control was crumbling under the pressure of something she had never experienced before. With every breath she took, her admiration grew until it turned into something feverish and dangerous.
She was increasingly ashamed of her own weakness, yet she stared at him as if hypnotised. Her thoughts swirled, tormented by the vision of what it would be like to touch that skin, to feel its warmth under her fingers and allow herself everything she had suppressed until now.
Suddenly, Halbrand straightened up, reached for the water and drank greedily, then brushed the hair from his forehead and looked at her as if he had known all along that he was being watched. Galadriel realised that he had caught her. A predatory smile appeared on his face, and then he slowly put down the hammer.
“Good morning, Galadriel” he said gently.
“Good morning. I came here because Celebrimbor wanted to see me” she tried to remain indifferent.
“I see...” he looked at her with the ease of someone who knows he has already won “Actually, it's very interesting... Please tell me, is it just a coincidence, or could it be something else entirely, that lately we've been talking so much about what we want? Perhaps it would be easier for both of us if you would do me the honour of telling me what you want most?”
Galadriel tried not to betray her confusion. She never imagined he would dare to ask her such a thing. She lifted her chin high, though her heart was beating too fast.
“Halbrand, you seem to have forgotten yourself. I came to the forge because I have duties to fulfil here. I am not here to tell you what I want” she said coolly.
“Everyone has desires, even the proudest of elves” he laughed softly, with that familiar hint of mischief “And sometimes those desires are closer than you think”
Galadriel unconsciously clenched her hands, trying not to show how much this conversation was unsettling her.
“It's good that you reminded me” she said firmly “I am an elf, and you are a human. There is more that divides us than you think”
“Does it really matter?” he asked calmly “I saw how you looked at me just now. Not like a king, not like a blacksmith, but like someone who is tearing down all your walls”
“Honestly?” she asked with predatory calm “I think you're overestimating your abilities”
Halbrand took the blow with obvious pleasure. He slowly moved away from the anvil and towards her.
“Maybe you're right” he whispered, his eyes flashing with defiance “But sometimes it's worth taking a risk. Even if you get burned”
A thick, sensual atmosphere grew between them, in which every gesture took on new meaning. Galadriel considered ending the conversation for a moment, but instead allowed herself to be bold.
“You'd better be careful, Halbrand. Iron isn't the only thing that can burn in this forge”
“In that case, I'll be careful” he said, his tone tinged with something disturbingly tempting.
“We should stop...” she felt the situation slipping out of her control.
Halbrand moved even closer, without invading her space, and looked at her with the same intensity that had confused her so many times before.
“Stop talking?” he asked with a hint of irony “Or maybe stop... pretending?”
“I'm not pretending!” she protested “I'm just trying to understand why everything has been so difficult lately when you're around”
Their breath mingled, and the air between them ignited. The words hung in the air, not yet fully spoken, but already too bold to take back.
“Maybe it's because you can't fight me anymore” Halbrand said quietly, almost tenderly “Or maybe you don't want to. Tell me, what do you really want from me?”
Galadriel pressed her lips together as if to hold back the confession that was on the tip of her tongue. Instead of an answer, there was a tense silence between them for a moment, the kind where every breath becomes a fight.
“I...” she began, struggling to gather her thoughts “I just want to clear things up and sort everything out”
Halbrand looked at her unyieldingly, not even trying to hide the challenge and hunger for truth in his eyes.
“That's not an answer” he interrupted quietly, with a smile full of patience and devious gentleness “I'm not asking about things, I'm asking about you”
Galadriel's anxiety grew with every passing moment. She wanted to look away, hide behind a cool composure, but she couldn't. He already knew too much. A violent struggle was raging inside her. The stubborn part of her soul screamed to leave, but the other, more real part could no longer ignore his presence and the power that emanated from him and attracted her like a magnet.
“I... I really don't know”
“It's very simple, Galadriel” he said softly “All it takes is a little courage”
“It's wrong... we shouldn't...”
“Wrong for whom?” he interrupted her without a hint of hesitation “For an elf or for a human? Or maybe just for you, because you're afraid to feel more than your pride allows you to?”
Galadriel did not answer. She pressed her lips together, trying to hide the pain, embarrassment and something so strong that it frightened her. But Halbrand didn't need any more words. Gently, cautiously, as if afraid of scaring her away, he raised his hand and touched her cheek with his fingers. His touch was tender, barely perceptible, and yet it made Galadriel freeze, paralysed by an impulse that was too intense for her to ignore.
Halbrand watched her closely, feeling all his confidence begin to waver under the pressure of what was happening in her eyes. For a brief moment, he hesitated, unsure if he was being too hasty and if he should back off before things got out of control. He remembered that special moment after the battle with Adar's forces. How he wanted to pull her close and feel the warmth of her lips on his. No... this time he had no doubts.
He didn't wait any longer. Without warning and leaving her no way to escape, he moved closer and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her towards him. For a moment, he saw the last glimmer of her resistance before he simply reached for what they both wanted. His lips found hers, at first timidly, carefully, as if giving her one last chance to escape. The kiss was soft, full of growing yearning, but when Galadriel did not move away and her lips parted, Halbrand gained confidence. His kiss became more greedy and passionate, as if he wanted to make up for all the months he had pretended he did not need her closeness in this one gesture. His fingers plunged into her hair, and his other hand found her hip and pulled her even closer. And that's when she realised how far she had crossed the line she had sworn never to cross. In one moment, the magic was gone, and she pushed him away.
She stood there for a moment, dazed, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She couldn't gather her thoughts because her body was trembling with desire. She could still feel the weight of his kiss on her lips and the warmth of his touch. Rebellion and shame welled up in her heart, which she was no longer able to hide.
“Never again...” she finally managed to say “Never do that again!”
Halbrand looked at her with a tenderness that was as real as it was dangerous. He smiled gently, but beneath the surface of that gesture lay something disturbing. It was a confidence that balanced on the edge of concern and manipulation.
“Is this really what you want, Galadriel?” his voice was soft and sensual “You want me to stop, even though you wanted that kiss as much as I did? You wanted there to be no lies or half-truths between us, so stop lying to yourself. I can see everything you don't want to say in your eyes”
His words enveloped her like an invisible web, seducing her and breaking down her resistance.
“Never again!” she repeated with difficulty, avoiding his gaze.
She turned and almost ran out of the forge, leaving behind the tension-filled air and Halbrad, who watched her with triumph and cool satisfaction. He knew that the most important boundary had just been crossed, and her escape was only confirmation of how much her desires and fears now belonged to him.
Chapter 2
Notes:
Halbrand's game is becoming more and more sophisticated. His words are a trap, but what if, apart from lies, his voice also reveals the truth about her?
Sorry for any mistakes - English is not my native language.
Chapter Text
Galadriel ran down the narrow corridor, feeling her lips burn as if she had touched them with red-hot coal. What had happened was both humiliating and... intoxicating. She seemed to be saturated with smoke and the scent of his skin. Her only desire was to get as far away from the forge as possible and hide in her chamber before she allowed herself to feel anything more than burning shame. She ran almost blindly and, just around the corner, bumped straight into Celebrimbor.
“Galadriel!” he called out enthusiastically “Good, you’re here! I was just on my way to the forge. We must get back to work on the mithril as soon as possible”
“Celebrimbor, I... I need a moment to myself” she tried to put on an indifferent expression, but she was afraid that the blush on her cheeks must have betrayed her.
“Of course, but this can't wait! Halbrand was absolutely right, and I already have a few ideas about what might help. Come with me!” he took her gently by the arm and, with innocent joy, led her back to the place she had just fled from.
Her heart leapt into her throat. When they entered, the smell of heated metal and something very sensual hit her with double force. Halbrand stood at the anvil, calmly wiping his hands on a rag. He raised his head, looking at her with dark satisfaction. He knew she had nowhere to run.
“Look!” Celebrimbor pointed to a small lump of mithril, shining with an incredible glow “This perfect power is as unstable as a wild river. We already know that we cannot simply tame it. Last night, I realised that we must combine it with something else to finally give it a permanent shape”
Halbrand leaned against the table and listened to Celebrimbor, but he did not take his eyes off Galadriel.
“You are right, master, purity in itself can be very fragile” he said, and the corner of his mouth lifted slightly “The most noble alloys are forged only in the hottest fire. Then they are bound together forever”
Galadriel forced herself to look at the mithril and not at him. She knew he wasn't talking about metal, but about their kiss.
“Some things should never be joined” she replied with difficulty, trying to remain calm “Their natures are so different that any attempt to force them into harmony is doomed to failure. And it ends in the destruction of both”
“Force?” a shadow of amusement appeared in Halbrand's eyes “No one is talking about force, Galadriel. We are talking about art. About patiently learning the nature of the material. Of understanding what it... desires. And about giving it that, so that it finally no longer has to fight itself. Sometimes what the material rejects is only a fear of surrendering to its true destiny. Please don't forget that without passion, there is no true work of art. The purest materials yield to the blacksmith only when they desire to be shaped by him”
Celebrimbor listened to their conversation with growing admiration, considering it the most wonderful artistic debate he had ever heard.
“Yes! That's exactly it!” exclaimed the elf, unaware of what was going on “The whole art is to find the perfect harmony!”
“Sometimes the things that seem contradictory create the most powerful whole” Halbrand said, taking a step towards them “Like the combination of darkness and light. You just need the courage to reach for it”
His attention was so focused on her that Galadriel felt as if his lips were searching for hers again.
“Such a connection can lead to destruction, and no amount of courage can change that. There are boundaries that simply must not be crossed” she said with difficulty, and her words were meant as a warning to both of them.
“Yes!” cried Celebrimbor “The line between creation and destruction! That is where true art is born! You two...” he smiled admiringly “You are like fire and water. You both understand this! I feel that together we will create something that will change the fate of Middle-earth, only... I'm still afraid that it will be too much. I tried again to imagine a single object like a crown, but I don't think it's possible”
Halbrand slowly approached and ran his hand with delight over the shiny metal, without touching it.
“Perhaps the problem isn't the object, master” he said with surprising gentleness ‘It's the very idea that someone must always carry such a burden alone”
Halbrand looked up, and his eyes found hers. There was no desire in them, only an understanding that was much deeper and more dangerous.
“To carry such light within you alone, for eternity...” he continued “It can break even the hardest steel or the strongest will”
He had struck at the heart of the matter. Not her pride or her desire, but her loneliness. The unspoken, long-standing burden of her fight and her mourning.
“Strength is precisely in bearing that burden” replied Galadriel.
“Really?” he asked “What if true strength is not in carrying the burden alone, but in the courage to let someone else take some of it?”
Silence fell in the forge. Celebrimbor stood paralysed, his mind, up to now focused on the details of the forging, suddenly following this new, philosophical path. His eyes widened in sudden realisation.
“Half...” he whispered and turned abruptly “Share the burden. But of course! Halbrand, now I am sure you are right. Not a crown, but as you said yesterday, there must be two! Two... rings that will spread the weight of the mithril between them and support each other! Like Anar and Isil...”
“No!” Galadriel interrupted him unexpectedly, and her voice was so firm that they both stared at her in surprise “Not two, but three”
“Three? Why three?” Celebrimbor blinked, knocked out of his creative trance.
Galadriel forced herself to focus all her attention on the elf.
“Because three is a symbol of perfect stability, like the three sides of a triangle” she replied, looking defiantly at Halbrand “One object can be knocked over, two can fight each other, but three will form an unbreakable foundation. If the power of mithril is such a burden, as Halbrand says, then it needs to be spread across the broadest possible base”
Her argument was logical and reasonable. For a moment, it seemed she had won. Celebrimbor looked intrigued, even convinced.
“Stability...” he muttered under his breath “It's true, a triangle is the strongest...”
But then Halbrand spoke up. He did not address Celebrimbor directly. He spoke quietly, straight to her, and there was no opposition in his tone, only a hint of sadness.
“You can always add a third element. Someone who will stand in the middle and make it unnecessary to face the other person and trust them completely. Three is safe, Galadriel, but it's also a competition in which one element will always be alone and left out. That's why it's a choice for those who fear true closeness. It's a way to continue carrying your burden alone, with only the illusion of support”
Celebrimbor focused first on Halbrand, then on Galadriel, and it was clear that he didn't know what to do. Her logic was irrefutable, but Halbrand's words had moved him deeply.
“I... I think he's right. We don't build the foundation of a house, only living power, and that requires courage. It should be two rings bound by destiny” the elf looked at Galadriel almost apologetically, then turned to the table to begin sketching.
Galadriel froze, but she did not even feel that she had lost. It was something much worse. She was frightened that a simple man had so easily discovered all her secrets, so deeply hidden in her soul. Slowly, almost against her will, she raised her head and met his gaze. Halbrand stood in the semi-darkness, but he wasn't smiling. He stared at her with calm and unwavering confidence. Suddenly, Galadriel realised that although Celebrimbor had made the final choice, someone else had made the real decision much earlier.
“There is so little of it...” Celebrimbor broke the awkward silence “Not even enough for two rings. We cannot combine mithril with ordinary gold or silver. We need something equally noble. Something born in the light, not in the darkness of Middle-earth...”
His gaze wandered around the forge in search of a possible solution. He looked at various tools... until finally he stopped at Galadriel, or rather at what she was carrying at her side. At the gold and silver hilt of her dagger.
“Galadriel...” he began quietly and hesitantly, afraid to voice his thoughts aloud “Your dagger... belonged to Finrod. It was forged in Valinor, in the days when the light of the Trees still lived in the hearts of our smiths. There is no metal in all of Middle-earth with a purer heritage”
She immediately understood what he meant, and her hand instinctively clenched around the hilt, shielding it as if protecting a living being.
“No!” that one word was the end of the conversation.
“Please, understand” Celebrimbor said, stepping closer to her “The light of our people is fading. Darkness is invading our hearts and minds. We need something to protect us, something to give us the strength to survive. This weapon is a symbol of the past and your personal struggle, and we are fighting for the future of us all!”
“It's the only thing I have left of him!” she cried in despair.
“I know” whispered Celebrimbor “But wouldn't your brother have given everything to protect the elves? Think about what we are creating here. Weapons are used to inflict wounds and kill, and we want to create something that will heal. It is our only hope, Galadriel. Our only hope...”
She stood in silence, her fingers clenching the dagger even tighter. She had a final refusal on the tip of her tongue when Halbrand suddenly spoke. His voice was calm, and every word was carefully chosen.
“Galadriel, I know I have no right to interfere, but do you remember our conversation yesterday about hope?” he began, and she felt a cold shiver run down her spine “About how sometimes, in the darkness, the light must become deceitful in order to have any chance of winning. I don't know your brother's story, but that dagger is a symbol of the past and of your unyielding will that brought you here. But think about it, does hope turn to what is gone? Perhaps if you want to fight for the future, you must allow the most precious thing from your past to take on a new form?”
Celebrimbor heard only wisdom in these words, but Galadriel saw their true meaning. He wanted her to forget the past and Finrod, and then choose the future... that is, him. She took a step back, wishing to escape the weight of this decision. She wanted to scream that he didn't understand, but her throat was tight.
“Galadriel. Please” seeing her panic, Celebrimbor repeated his plea.
This finally broke her resistance. Slowly, as if every movement caused her physical pain, Galadriel unfastened the dagger from her belt. The blade that had accompanied her for so many years suddenly became unimaginably heavy in her hands. She handed it to Celebrimbor, but did not let go immediately.
“I give it to you” she said to the elf “Only your hands will touch it. No one else. Do you understand?”
It was her last act of defiance and an attempt to protect her brother's memory. Celebrimbor, moved by her sacrifice and completely unaware of the true weight of her words, nodded eagerly.
“I swear by the Star of Eärendil. Only my hands will touch it”
The elf accepted the dagger with reverence, his fingers gently brushing the cool metal. He was completely absorbed by the noble beauty of the object. First, he melted the mithril in a crucible. Then, using long, slender tongs, he picked up the dagger and slowly placed it in the crucible. Galadriel did not move, forcing herself not to look away.
“It’s song will not be silenced. It will become part of a new, more powerful music” Celebrimbor said to her.
She was unable to speak, so she just nodded. Halbrand stood slightly to one side, but he did not look at the fire, only at its reflection in her wide-open eyes.
For a moment, nothing happened, and then the hilt began to glow with a blinding light. The blade, forged in the light of the Trees, was rapidly losing its perfect shape. It was surrendering to the power of the flames, which promised a new birth, but for now were only destruction.
“The legacy of Valinor... merges with the grey glow of Middle-earth” whispered Celebrimbor, fascinated, watching the liquid metal of the dagger mix with the mithril in the crucible “Galadriel, your sacrifice will ensure the future of the elves”
He was surprised to hear Halbrand's heavy sigh as he looked at the shining metal with an expression of deep, almost painful longing.
“What's wrong, my friend?” asked the elf.
“Forgive me, master. It's nothing. I just... felt a moment of jealousy” Halbrand raised his head, and a sad smile appeared on his face.
“Jealousy?” Celebrimbor asked in surprise.
“We are creating something that will survive thousands of human lives. It will be a symbol of eternal protection for your people” his voice was full of melancholy “We, humans... do not have such privileges. Our kingdoms rise and fall in one moment. We are protected only by steel that rusts and walls that crumble. Your legacy is written in the stars, while ours turns to dust”
“Halbrand...” Celebrimbor was increasingly confused, but he didn't know what to say.
“Mithril makes me think of my people. Of the South. And I dream...” he fell silent, as if ashamed of his desire “I dream that they could have just a spark of what you have. Even a single ray to light their short, dark path”
His words were not a request, but the resigned regret of a mortal who knows he is asking for the impossible. In an instant, Celebrimbor's face changed. Pride in his own work gave way to something much greater. He looked at the shining metal, then at Halbrand.
“A spark...” he whispered, then began to speak louder and louder “I was too blinded by my concern for the elves. This will not be a light only for us! That would be... selfish. That is not why we made this sacrifice! The power we are creating is too great to be hidden in our kingdoms! It is our duty to share it! These rings will be a gift and a promise! A symbol that the light and wisdom of the elves will not abandon those who need them!”
“Master... I dare not ask for this. It is a gift beyond imagination” Halbrand's face expressed shock and boundless gratitude.
Galadriel stood and listened to their conversation. Halbrand's confession about the fragility of his race was so full of pain and truth that it moved even her. She also saw the nobility of Celebrimbor's gesture, and yet, despite this, she felt neither joy nor pride. She had the impression that an agreement had just been made, the true price of which no one could see at that moment. She looked at Halbrand's humble, grateful face and for the first time she was overcome by a paralysing fear. Not of his strength, but of his apparent weakness, which proved more powerful than any weapon. Then something inside her broke.
“This is too much for me” she whispered, and without waiting for their reaction, she turned and left, desperately needing air and quiet.
She escaped to the same garden where she had exposed his lie that he was not a king. Now it seemed so distant and trivial to her. She walked on until she finally saw a stone bench in the shade of the trees. She sat down and felt her hands trembling. For so many years, that dagger had been her oath and part of her identity, and now she was allowing something else to consume her. She didn't know why she remembered the touch of his lips on hers again. She was afraid that the fire in the forge had burned her past only to make space for someone new.
Her hand wandered unconsciously to her side and touched only the smooth fabric of her dress. This simple gesture made her realise the extent of her loss. She was disarmed. Literally and figuratively.
When she heard footsteps behind her, she didn't even have to turn around to know who it was. Every nerve in her body tensed in anticipation. He didn't sit down, but stood in front of her, blocking the sun so that his silhouette stood out against the bright sky.
“Are you all right?” Halbrand asked with concern, which now seemed to her the worst of insults.
“No!” she snapped “Nothing is right! What are you planning, Halbrand?”
Her attack took him completely by surprise.
“I'm planning? I'm just helping master Celebrimbor create something that will protect Middle-earth. I thought we had the same goal” he raised his eyebrows in a familiar gesture of feigned surprise “I know it's hard for you, but sometimes something old loses its shape to become new and full of promise”
“You enjoyed that sacrifice, didn't you?” she said, not with sadness, but with pure, cold fury ‘You took pleasure in watching me destroy the last memento of my brother”
He didn't deny it. Instead, his lips twisted into a barely visible, sad smile.
“No. I didn't enjoy your pain. Why do you keep fighting even when the battle is over?” he moved closer and knelt beside her, and their faces were almost on the same level.
“Don't touch me!”
He ignored her words. Instead, he gently but firmly took her clenched hand by the wrist. His touch was warm and confident, contrasting sharply with her icy resistance.
“Let go!” she growled, trying to break free, but his grip was unyielding.
“Let me” he whispered, and it was not a request but a command, hidden beneath a veneer of tenderness.
His other hand rested on her clenched fingers. He began to straighten them slowly, one by one. Her muscles resisted, fighting him in this silent, intimate battle. She could feel the warmth of his skin, the strength of his fingers as they worked with incredible patience to break her will.
“I hate you for this” she hissed through clenched teeth.
“I know” he replied quietly, without stopping, while his thumb stroked the taut skin of her hand “You hate that you don’t have to be strong anymore and that someone has seen you without your armour”
He had hit her weak spot perfectly. He released his last finger and her palm opened, lying in his hands. Halbrand looked at her for a moment, then raised his eyes to hers. His eyes were dark, and their depth seemed to swallow her whole. The anger in her heart hadn't disappeared, but now it was mixed with a hot impulse that flowed straight from the place where their skin touched. He leaned in as if to kiss her, but stopped at the last moment.
“That heat from the crucible... it was almost as powerful as the one that brought us together before. Remember?” his gaze was intense and possessive.
The unwanted memory of their kiss returned, and Galadriel felt as if she couldn't breathe.
“Don't you dare...” she whispered.
“I dared” he replied, his voice seeming to penetrate her skin “And so did you. For a moment, you allowed the fire to consume you. Just as you allowed it to consume the dagger. It was the same act of faith and creation, Galadriel”
“It was weakness!” she protested.
“No. It was liberation” he said with absolute certainty “You didn't destroy the memory of your brother. You freed his light from the form of an instrument of vengeance and allowed him to become part of something that gives life. Something we can create... together”
She looked into his eyes and searched for any sign of a lie, but all she saw was a reflection of her own chaos and a dark, hypnotic conviction. She was afraid she was drowning, but he wasn't a raft that could save her. Halbrand was the sea that was consuming her. The emptiness left by her brother, which had been a frozen abyss just a moment ago, was now beginning to fill with his tempting and disturbing warmth.
“Together...” she whispered, because the word tasted like poison and a promise “Don't play with me, Halbrand. Tell me why two rings? Why did you reject the idea of three?”
“It was Celebrimbor who made that choice, not me...” there was no shadow of doubt in his gentle voice “Besides, three is division, and I believe in the unbreakable power of the union of two beings and in perfect balance”
His explanations were ambiguous as always, but Galadriel was not going to let it go.
“Is this union you speak of...” she asked silently, and she was dangerously calm “Does it have anything to do with what happened between us in the forge? Those two rings... are they meant for us?”
The air between them thickened, but Halbrand did not answer immediately. His face softened, but Galadriel felt a shadow of the same fire as during their kiss.
“One does not exclude the other, Galadriel. Think for yourself, wouldn't that be the most powerful alliance of all?”
Suddenly, all the pain of losing her brother, the shame of their kiss, and her anger at his insolent confidence culminated in one violent reflex. She pulled her hand out of his and clenched it into a fist again.
“Alliance?” she trembled with barely contained rage “Or perhaps slavery? Is that what you mean? You want to bind me to you just as you want to bind these metals together!”
Halbrand was still kneeling beside her, but his eyes were filled with deep, authentic pain. He lowered his gaze and gathered his thoughts, and when he looked at her again, all his confidence was gone.
“Slavery...” he repeated, shaking his head in disbelief “Is that how you see it? After all this? I would never hurt you like that”
“If that's the case, then tell me straight, Halbrand” she demanded “What do you want?”
She expected evasion or another metaphor about metals and fire, but he surprised her once again. His face grew serious, and his gaze became deep and penetrating, as if he were looking into the furthest corners of her soul.
“Tell me about your brother”
“What?” she whispered, completely thrown off balance “What does Finrod have to do with this? Don't change the subject”
“I'm not changing the subject” he replied gently “Who killed him, Galadriel? And how?”
She felt as if a blunt dagger had been thrust into her old wound. A wave of anger and despair washed over her.
“It was Sauron” she hissed “Finrod died in the dungeons, torn apart by a werewolf, on his orders”
Halbrand listened to her attentively, his face expressing concentration and deep sympathy.
“Your brother fought Sauron alone” his voice was now full of fervent passion “All these years, you've been hunting his killer... alone. Can't you see? Loneliness is our greatest weakness. It allows darkness to win. It causes our loved ones to die in dungeons”
“But I don't understand...” she tried to interrupt him.
“You asked me what I want. I want this to end. The rings we are creating are not just metal and magic. They are a chance that no one will ever have to die alone again. Thanks to them, elves and humans will stand shoulder to shoulder, and their combined strength will be so great that no darkness can resist it. Middle-earth can become a place where tragedies like your brother's will never happen again. That's what I want, Galadriel. I want a future where there is no place for such stories. And I can't build it without you”
The vision of Middle-earth, where Finrod's sacrifice was not in vain, was so tempting. Too tempting.
“Halbrand...” she began with difficulty, trying to order her thoughts “This great opportunity for humans and elves... Is that all you care about? Answer me honestly, are these rings meant to be a symbol of alliance, or something else entirely?”
Unexpectedly, Halbrand's face showed fatigue and resignation, as if he were giving up the battle he was fighting with himself. He sighed heavily.
“I thought I could separate the two” there was no fire in his eyes, only boundless, piercing sadness “I really tried. I told myself that all I cared about was the mithril and the fight against the darkness. That this was the goal that united us. But that's not true. Ever since the raft... ever since you emerged from the sea, everything I do... every plan, every decision, every blow of the hammer in the forge... I've done it all for you. I want your power to be used not for fighting, but for building. If there is any slavery in all this, it is mine alone. I am a slave to this vision”
This confession hit her harder than any blow from a sword. It was exactly what she feared and, at the same time, something that a treacherous, deeply hidden part of her soul longed to hear. Kneeling at her feet was the man who had just confessed that she was the reason for his greatest ambitions. His words sounded so tempting, but despite that, she sensed a note in them that stirred a primal fear within her.
“What will happen next?” she finally managed to ask.
Halbrand was quiet for a moment. Then, slowly and with dignity, he rose from his knees. He looked down at her again, but there was no superiority in his gaze, only devotion and seriousness.
“It's entirely up to you, Galadriel” he said calmly “I've only shown you the door, but you have to walk through it. You can keep fighting and go back to your world and pretend you feel nothing. I will also return to my forge, and we will both live a lie.‘ He paused, and his eyes darkened. ’Or you can finally stop struggling and see the real me. Not the king, not the blacksmith, but the man standing before you. And admit that what is growing between us is real”
He didn't wait for her answer. He simply turned away and walked calmly and steadily towards the forge, leaving her alone. She knew that the choice he had given her was really a sentence.
Chapter 3
Notes:
I am on holiday and managed to write a new chapter more quickly. Please let me know how you like the story.
Sorry for any mistakes - English is not my native language.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Galadriel sat motionless, trying to understand what had just happened. Her world of simple truths, hatred and clear purpose had finally fallen apart. She desperately tried to put it back together, but the edges were too sharp and the picture they formed was impossible to accept.
Halbrand's words were not only a tempting proposition, but above all, they were like a mirror reflecting her deeply hidden loneliness. The worst thing was that the warm touch of his hand and the taste of his soft lips still left on her skin.
A part of her soul, tempered in the fire of oaths, screamed in protest, calling her weak. But another one, that she had forgotten existed, whispered with terrifying honesty that never in her long life had she felt so deeply understood by anyone.
She stood up abruptly, as if she wanted to escape from herself. She could not stay here any longer, because the garden was a place where Halbrand mercilessly exposed her soul. She decided to kill this newly born, treacherous part of herself once and for all, before it took root in her. She searched within herself for something strong and familiar that would allow her to survive this storm. Her hand wandered unconsciously to her side, but she did not find Finrod's dagger there.
She realised that she no longer had a symbol of her past to protect her. She needed to remember the light of Valinor, the pride of the Noldor, and above all, the duty that flowed in her blood. That had to be enough. She should have focused on the real threat, and that threat was Adar, the blade aimed at the elves. He was an enemy whose hatred was so pure and simple.
As soon as she thought of Moriondor, she straightened up and became a commander again. Without looking back, she moved confidently towards the place where the troops guarding the safety of Eregion were stationed. On the way, she passed cheerful elves engrossed in conversation. Their faces were calm, and the world was still orderly. None of them knew that just a moment ago, Lady Galadriel had been on the verge of betraying herself.
When she finally arrived at her destination, she saw several elves practising intently. This had almost always been her world. She noticed a magnificent sword leaning against a tree and approached it. Instinctively, she ran her fingers over the cool blade. The steel was smooth and made for killing, yet instead of bringing her comfort, the touch brought back memories of the warmth of his hand.
“Captain” she said without hesitation to the officer standing closest to her “Give me a report on the state of our weapons. Every sword, spear and arrow must be ready. The war has only just begun”
She was talking about the war with Adar, but deep down she knew that she was starting a war with herself.
***
While Galadriel tried to drown out the chaos of her own thoughts in the noise of war preparations, the atmosphere in the forge was completely different. Celebrimbor was in his element. The liquid alloy of mithril and Valinor gold and silver was the most perfect material he had ever held in his hands. His mind was working at full speed, creating hundreds of designs. He rejected some and perfected others. In this creative frenzy, he hardly noticed anything else.
Halbrand stood by his side like a shadow. He carried out all commands with a skill that still amazed the elf. His hands were steady, yet he was not the same man who, not long ago, had passionately discussed about the nature of creation and whose suggestions had opened up completely new horizons for Celebrimbor.
The fire and confidence disappeared from his eyes. He worked in silence, his gaze completely absent. Several times, Celebrimbor noticed Halbrand freeze and glance towards the forge door, as if waiting for someone.
“Are you all right, my friend?” he finally asked, putting down his tools and looking at him with concern “Your thoughts are far away”
“Forgive me, master. I was lost in thought. This work... its power intimidates me” Halbrand flinched, suddenly snapped out of his trance, and a forced, barely visible smile appeared on his face.
“I don't need to tell you that metal senses the blacksmith's intentions” he said philosophically “The greatest works require complete dedication, and I feel that something else is troubling you”
“I don't know what you're talking about, master” Halbrand looked away and returned to cleaning one of the moulds, his movements becoming more violent than necessary.
“Your conversation with Galadriel... about combining metals. It gave me a lot to think about. Harmony is the key to everything, including feelings” the elf watched him for a moment, then a shadow of a smile appeared on his face.
“Sometimes we want to reach for feelings we don't deserve” he said quietly, his voice tinged with deep, personal bitterness.
Halbrand fell silent and said nothing more, and Celebrimbor realised he would not break through this wall.
“Then let our work heal our hearts” the elf sighed and placed his hand on his shoulder “Come. The hardest part is yet to come”
Halbrand nodded, and they both returned to work, but his soul was still in the garden, where he knelt before the elf who had rejected his proposal to rule Middle-earth.
Celebrimbor, faithful to his oath to Galadriel, watched with reverence over the crucible in which the mithril was melted together with Finrod's dagger. His every movement was careful and measured, and his concentration was absolute. Halbrand, at his command, added coal to the furnace, managed the bellows and handed him tools.
The pivotal moment was close. The alloy had reached the perfect temperature and purity. It was time for the final, crucial stage, to pour it into the moulds. Celebrimbor focused all his will and centuries of experience on this one task. Halbrand took advantage of this and, by regulating the air flow from the bellows, increased its power to the maximum for a fraction of a second. His movement was almost unnoticeable, but the flames came alive with new strength.
“What are you doing?!” cried the terrified elf, seeing the alloy immediately turn red and overheat, which could destroy its delicate structure “The temperature is too high! We'll lose purity! Quick, give me the silver powder that's on that table!”
Celebrimbor held the heavy crucible with tongs and could not let go of it even for a moment. He felt an overwhelming fear. Halbrand moved towards the table, but his movements were deliberately chaotic. In his haste, he knocked over several tools, which fell to the floor with a clatter. As he picked them up, he accidentally caught his hand on the sharp edge of one of them and cut the skin on the inside of his palm. He stifled a groan of pain and immediately clenched his hand into a fist to hide the bleeding wound. He took the powder the elf had asked for from the table and approached him.
“Halbrand, now! There's no time to wait” panic began to take control of Celebrimbor's masterful composure.
“I'm coming!” he said, his voice slightly muffled with pain.
He leaned over the crucible and deftly poured the powder into it. At the same time, he unclenched his fist and a trickle of blood from his wounded hand ran down his wrist. Several dark red drops of blood fell into the crucible. It hissed. For a moment, a black pattern appeared on the surface of the liquid alloy where the drops of blood had fallen, but it disappeared immediately. The blinding glare of the metal dimmed, stabilising at the perfect temperature, and the crisis passed.
Celebrimbor stood paralysed, staring at what had happened. He slowly set the crucible aside. His gaze moved from the man's bloodied hand to the perfectly smooth surface of the alloy.
“Your blood...” he whispered in horror “It got inside. We have desecrated it! My oath...”
“Forgive me, master” Halbrand said quietly, quickly wrapping his hand in a cloth to hide the wound.
His face showed perfectly feigned remorse and pain.
“It's just a scratch” he waved his hand dismissively “And only a few drops of blood. What can they mean in the face of such great power? It's nothing”
“Nothing?!” Celebrimbor's face was pale as a sheet “Your blood is in the metal. You've ruined everything! All our work has been wasted! The metal is no longer fit for anything!”
“No longer fit for anything?” Halbrand raised his eyebrows, his tone calm and rational “See for yourself... Has its shine dimmed? Has its power gone? No. It is perfect. What happened was just an accident. Please consider, what is the blood of one mortal man compared to the power of Valinor and mithril? Nothing...”
He moved even closer to the elf, his words sounding so soothing.
“Master, this is all the mithril we have. There is no more. Are we to destroy it? Destroy the work that will save your people because of one insignificant accident?” he continued “Galadriel does not need to know about this. It will be our secret. A secret that will save the elves and men. Is your pride more important than the future of Middle-earth?”
Celebrimbor was torn. His craftsman's soul was horrified by the thought of contaminating the metal, but his ambition and desire to create something great suggested another solution. Halbrand was right. They had no more mithril. The hope of his people rested in this very crucible. He looked at the shining metal with a mixture of love and fear.
“I don't know. I... I broke my oath” he stammered in despair.
“But I know, master” replied Halbrand, placing his hand on his shoulder “I know we will create something wonderful. This minor accident will not change anything. It is still your work and your vision, and now... you must finish it”
Celebrimbor looked at him, and in his eyes, despair slowly gave way to a new, feverish determination.
“You're right” he finally whispered, his voice trembling with emotion “But since your blood is already part of this work, it would be against its nature if you didn't help me give it its final shape now”
Halbrand raised his eyebrows in a gesture of feigned surprise, and then an expression of deep humility appeared on his face.
“If that is your will, master, it will be my honour. In that case, let us not allow it to cool any longer”
From that moment on, man and elf worked as equals. The oath made to Galadriel was broken, and now Halbrand no longer stood aside. His hands freely touched and worked the alloy. They moved in perfect harmony. Celebrimbor, with his knowledge of elven craftsmanship, gave the work finesse and light. Halbrand, with his dark determination, imbued the alloy with a strength and depth the elf could never have imagined. The hammers struck in perfect rhythm, and their song carried throughout Eregion, heralding the dawn of a new era.
They worked tirelessly until, finally, the work was complete. On black velvet, they laid two perfect silver rings, which did not yet have jewels, but already shone with their own inner light. Celebrimbor stared at them with eyes full of tears. He saw in them the future of Middle-earth and salvation forged in metal. Halbrand stood beside him, his face showing deep satisfaction, but his gaze was different from that of the elf. He looked at the rings as if they were keys that would open all doors for him, because in them was his will, his essence and... darkness.
***
The night in Eregion was windless and saturated with the scent of jasmine blooming in the gardens. Galadriel, after a long, exhausting day in which she had imposed iron discipline on herself, was finally alone in her chamber. She lay in a large, empty bed, and her body, though tired, refused to sleep. Her mind, free from duty and effort, immediately returned to the memories she so desperately wanted to avoid. She went straight back to the garden and... to him.
“…I am a slave to this vision…”
“...You can keep fighting and go back to your world and pretend you feel nothing...”
Each of his words was like a stone thrown into the calm surface of her soul, creating ever-widening circles that refused to disappear. She squeezed her eyelids shut in anger and tried once more to push his image away, but Halbrand was still there, more real and distinct than ever. She saw the pain in his eyes as he knelt before her. She felt the touch of his fingers on her hand as he patiently opened her palm.
She rolled onto her other side, burying her face in the cool pillow. It was humiliating. She, who had faced orcs and werewolves, was now defenceless against the words and gestures of a single mortal. A man whose identity was a mystery and whose ambitions seemed to reach for the stars.
His proposal and vision of two rings was madness and heresy. And yet... his arguments about loneliness struck her, hitting the most hidden wound in her heart. For so many years, she had been alone with her pain, memories and struggles. No one had ever dared to stand by her side and offer to take some of her burden upon themselves. Until now.
Irritated, she sat down on the bed. Sleep would not come, and she knew she would not sleep that night. SShe was trapped between cold logic and her duty to her people, and a treacherous, tempting whisper that bore the color of his voice.
Suddenly, in the thick silence that surrounded her, there was a knock at the door. Galadriel froze. No one would dare disturb her at this hour without good reason. A vision of an attack, bad news or another disaster flashed through her mind. She immediately got up, throwing on a silk robe. She approached the heavy oak door, her hand stopping for a moment on the handle. She took a deep breath and opened it.
It was him. Halbrand stood in the dim light of the hallway, illuminated only by the cool glow of the moon shining through the window. He was dressed in simple, dark travelling clothes, and a sword hung at his side. His face remained motionless, almost indifferent, but he could not hide a shadow of deep sadness.
“Halbrand?” she whispered in surprise and sudden, irrational fear “What are you doing here?”
He didn't even try to come in, just stood in the doorway.
“I've come to say goodbye” he said quietly but firmly, like someone who had made a final decision.
“Goodbye?” she repeated, not understanding.
“Yes” he nodded “The work on the rings is coming to an end. Master Celebrimbor has everything he needs. My wound is healed and I am well again. I will no longer abuse your hospitality”
His words were logical, polite and completely empty.
“Nothing else keeps me here” he added after a moment and finally looked her straight in the eye, his gaze no longer challenging or pleading, but coolly resigned “As you wished, I am returning to the South. To my people, to give them hope”
Galadriel stood still, feeling the ground slip away from under her feet. She had expected him to fight and offer more tempting words, but she had not expected this to be the end. She tried to find a shadow of hesitation in his gaze or some hidden plea for her to stop him, but she found nothing but calm resignation.
“No one is throwing you out of here, Halbrand” she said finally, her voice trembling despite her efforts to sound indifferent “Celebrimbor is grateful for your help. You are welcome here”
A shadow of a sad smile appeared on his face, devoid of any irony. He knew her proud, unyielding nature too well, which even now, in the face of loss, prevented her from revealing her heart.
“No one is throwing me out, that's true” he admitted “But no one has asked me to stay either”
His words hung between them. She heard in them her own hesitation and fear, which had stopped her from answering him in the garden. He had asked her a direct question, and she had responded with silence. Now he was responding in kind.
Every word that came to her mind stuck in her throat, stifled by centuries spent hiding her weakness. In her head, pride fought with desire, and duty with impulse.
“And I... am the one who should be asking you to stay?” finally, almost against her will, the words came out of her mouth.
His face froze for a moment, then he nodded slowly.
“Yes” he replied.
He took two steps forward and the distance between them disappeared. Before, the threshold had separated them, but now there was nothing between them. He stood so close that she could feel the warmth of his body, and she began to feel angry. After their kiss and his confession, he came here with a prepared speech, as if he wanted to negotiate some kind of treaty.
“Is that all?” she no longer hid her emotions “After our conversation in the garden... you just packed your things and you’re going to leave?”
Then his mask cracked, and anger and pain flashed across his face.
“What did you expect, Galadriel?!” he snarled “That I would stay here? In your perfect, beautiful world, where I will always be just a dirty man from the South and a living reminder of your mistake? That I would happily watch you return to your duties and pretend that nothing had happened? That I would wait until your pride allowed you to throw me some crumbs of attention?!”
She was so shocked by his attack that she took a step back.
“Every glance you give me, full of pride and shame, is torture to me” he continued, each syllable concealing suppressed emotions “I'm leaving because if I stayed here, I would condemn myself to something worse than death. Day after day, I would look at you and know that you would never choose me over your memory of your brother and your hatred... If I stayed, Galadriel, you would no longer be able to run away from the answers to questions you are afraid to even ask. Questions about who you are without your struggle and who you are with me. You mean too much to me, so I will spare you that”
A heavy silence fell. His brutal honesty tore her to pieces. He showed her his heart, but he did it in a way that made it impossible for her to respond. He didn't ask her to stop him. He explained to her why he had to leave. It was the cruelest and most effective form of goodbye. The sight of him, ready to turn away and leave her forever, was unbearable.
“What if I tell you now...” she began, her voice breaking, and she had to force herself to finish the sentence “...that your leaving will be a mistake? And that I want you to stay...”
Halbrand closed his eyes for a moment, as if her words caused him physical pain. When he opened them, a barely visible, bitter smile appeared on his face. There was a hint of tenderness in it, but also deep sadness.
“If you had said that, Galadriel...” he began, almost inaudibly “I would not have left. I would have stayed and burned in your light... But you will not say it. Your pride is your prison. We both know that”
His words were final. He did not wait for an answer he knew he would not receive. He understood her soul, which could not bend, even if it meant breaking her heart.
For Galadriel, time stood still. Words she could say and gestures she could make swirled in her head. He saw the struggle in her eyes. He saw her imprisoned soul and waited no longer.
“Farewell, Lady Galadriel” he bowed his head slightly in a gesture of respect, like a servant before his queen, and then began to turn away.
Galadriel was overcome by a primal panic, and before her mind could protest, she reached out her hand and her fingers clamped down on his forearm. He stopped, but did not turn his head. When her hand touched his warm skin, she clasped his forearm even tighter. This touch was like a last, desperate attempt to hold on to the one she was losing.
“Don't make this harder than it already is” he said hoarsely, still not looking at her.
“Halbrand...” she whispered.
His name was the only word that could pass her constricted throat. It contained everything, her plea, her pain, and her fear. But Halbrand gently but firmly pulled his arm out of her grasp.
“I don't think we'll meet again. I'm going back to my darkness, and you stay in your light. It will be easier for both of us” he said, and with slow, measured steps, he walked down the corridor.
He took his time, and each of his steps echoed off the stone walls. Galadriel stood motionless, her outstretched hand hanging in the void. She watched as his figure grew smaller and smaller until he finally disappeared around the corner. She still stood in the doorway of her chamber, alone and paralysed by the silence she had just chosen.
For a moment, her mind, used to strategy and combat, told her that this was all just a game, another test of strength. That was why she waited, because she suspected that Halbrand had stopped just around the corner to see if she would break her pride and run after him. If she had, he would probably have smiled in that roguish way and told her that he knew from the beginning that she cared.
She waited, but slowly realised that the silence that remained after him was different. It was not calm, but a deafening absence. Finally, she understood the truth. It was not a game or manipulation. Halbrand had just left. His resignation was real, and his farewell was sincere. He had given her a choice and respected it, and she, in her fear and hesitation, had chosen to part ways.
The whole of Eregion, which for the last few days had seemed to revolve around the tension between them, suddenly came to a standstill. He had not left to punish her, but to save himself. He had left because the pain of being close to her was unbearable for him.
She leaned against the doorframe, and her hand, the one that had been touching him just a moment ago, slowly fell to her side. The commander of the Northern Armies, the slayer of orcs and the terror of Morgoth's servants, stood in the corridor of Celebrimbor's palace, and her heart was breaking because of the departure of a mortal. All she felt was emptiness and the stark awareness that she had just allowed the only soul in all of Arda to walk away, the one who had seen her for who she truly was.
Notes:
After this chapter, I leave you with a question - in Halbrand's world of intrigue and manipulation, is his farewell the end, or perhaps another masterful move in the game for Galadriel's heart?
Chapter 4
Notes:
My dear readers, your support, comments and emotions are extremely valuable to me. This story no longer belongs only to me, but also to you 💗
Before you awaits a long and exciting chapter 4. The boundaries between lies and truth are becoming increasingly blurred, and an unexpected guest arrives in Eregion…
Sorry for any mistakes - English is not my native language.
Chapter Text
Galadriel stood in the doorway of her chamber for a moment, staring into the empty corridor. Finally, she entered and slowly closed the door behind her. Pride, her faithful companion, whispered to her that she had done the right thing. She had saved herself from weakness and from the mortal who had dared to touch her soul. Yet, for the first time in many years, her pride seemed weak and false compared to the vision of his absence.
“...It will be easier for both of us...”
Easier. The word was like an insult. Since when had she chosen what was easy? Her life was a constant fight. Simplicity was something she could never afford. Suddenly, with terrifying clarity, she realised that Halbrand was not a complication in her life, but he was its new meaning.
The fire she had tried to stifle within herself burst forth with new, unbridled force. She had no time to hesitate, because she could not let him go. She opened the door and ran out of the chamber. She did not move with the dignity of a Noldor princess, but ran through the quiet corridors of Eregion. She did not care if anyone saw her. She did not care about anything, because all that mattered was that she made it in time.
When she did not see him in the courtyard, she rushed to the stables. She saw him in the cool moonlight streaming through the open gates. He stood beside a towering dark stallion, tightening the saddle. He heard her hurried footsteps and froze, but did not turn around immediately. For a long moment, they stood in silence, separated by a few inches of space that felt like an abyss. Finally, Halbrand slowly turned his head. His face was inscrutable, but in his eyes, when they met hers, she saw a shadow of surprise and dangerous hope.
“Have you forgotten something, Lady Galadriel?” his voice was unnaturally calm.
“I...” she began with a choked voice “I shouldn't stop you. I know that”
“And yet you’re doing it” he raised an eyebrow, and a hint of an ironic smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.
He slowly moved closer and stopped right in front of her.
“You can't just leave like this” she said it more sharply than she had intended “The rings… they still need a lot of work. Celebrimbor will need you. Your knowledge and talent are invaluable”
“Do not speak for him, Galadriel” his proximity made her increasingly nervous “If you want me to stay, you should speak of your own needs”
Halbrand watched her for a moment longer, as if giving her one last chance to be honest, then turned his back on her again and returned to checking the saddle.
Before her mind could formulate another excuse, her body made the decision for her. She took one step, then another, closing the distance between them until she was standing right behind him.
“Stay...” she whispered, and that one simple word was like a surrender.
“Why?” he asked and turned to her.
Galadriel opened her mouth, but no sound came out. How could she put into words the chaos raging inside her? She couldn't. So she did the only thing left for her to do. She clutched at the folds of his travel cloak, yanked him closer with a force that shocked him, and claimed his lips in a kiss.
At first, he did not return her kiss, and his lips remained motionless. She was overcome with panic that he would push her away and leave forever, but she decided not to give up. Her mouth, in an act of final, shameless request, opened slightly. With a quiet sigh, she brushed his lips with her tongue, shyly at first, then with greater courage. It was an invitation he could no longer ignore. His lips, sealed until now, opened to receive her. His tongue found hers, and what had begun as her desperate plea exploded into a fire that neither of them could control.
His hands, until then motionless, grabbed her with a violence that surprised her. He placed one hand possessively on her lower back, pressing her against him. His other hand moved up along her spine until his fingers were tangled in her golden curls. Gently but firmly, he pulled her hair, forcing her to tilt her head back so he could deepen their kiss.
Now he was in control. He kissed her with a hunger and passion that was both punishment and reward. She felt the roughness of his stubble on her cheek and the taste of his skin in her mouth. Galadriel no longer knew where her desire ended and his madness began. There was only her and him, and the destructive, healing force that had brought them together. When they finally pulled apart, the world seemed to spin. They stood so close that their foreheads almost touched, their heavy, ragged breaths mingling in the cool air of the stable.
Then Galadriel realised what she had done. A rush of heat rose to her cheeks, as searing shame engulfed her. She pulled her hands away abruptly and turned her eyes aside. Halbrand saw the blush of embarrassment on her face, and in one moment his own passion faded, giving way to a deep, painful understanding.
“You see?” he said sadly “That's why I should leave. It's destroying you. It's pushing you to be someone you're not”
His words, spoken so gently, were worse than a scream to her. She forced herself to look at him.
“I'm afraid...” she admitted “I'm afraid of what I feel and who I become when I'm with you”
She expected him to take advantage of her weakness and provoke her again, but he just looked at her calmly.
“So you'll let me go?” he asked.
“And now you want to leave? To leave this work undone?”
Halbrand froze, understanding perfectly well the double meaning of her words. She wasn't talking about the rings.
“Some works cannot be completed...” he replied after a moment, trying to remain calm “...without destroying the material”
“Perhaps” she admitted, regaining all her confidence “but that should be decided by the blacksmith, not the material that fears the flames”
He stared at her in admiration for a moment, then finally lowered his head and let out a heavy sigh.
“I am no blacksmith, Galadriel... I am a deceiver who believed his own lie for a moment. I am not an elf, and I carry no light of Valinor within me. I am not even the king you wanted to see in me. I am just a man with a dark past who wants to be close to the fire, even though he knows he will eventually burn in it. I want to be here. With you. More than anything else. But what if all this...” he wavered, as if afraid to speak the words aloud “...is just an illusion? A monstrous mistake, for which we shall both pay the highest price?”
A barely noticeable smile appeared on her lips, because she understood that he was afraid too.
“Then...” she lifted her chin and looked at him without hesitation “...it will be our mistake”
Her words were like a dark promise. For a heartbeat, Galadriel beheld in his eyes something chilling, ancient, and filled with absolute triumph. It was a glow so strange and predatory tthat it did not belong to the face of the mortal she knew. It disappeared so quickly that she thought it was a vision, but the disturbing impression remained.
“I will remember those words, Galadriel “Halbrand stared at her intently “Now I should return to my chamber before anyone notices my disappearance. Especially at this hour”
She inclined her head in understanding. Indeed, their absence at the same time could raise unnecessary questions. She walked ahead, and he followed her. They did not talk or touch each other, but the space between them vibrated with unspoken words and something increasingly intimate and forbidden.
Finally, they reached the door to his chamber. They stopped, and an awkward silence fell. Galadriel looked up at him, trying to find the words that would suit the situation.
“Halbrand... sleep well” she whispered, feeling how absurd this farewell sounded.
She was about to turn and leave, but she had only taken one step. His hand grabbed her shoulder. Before she could react, Halbrand turned her around and pressed her against the heavy oak door of his chamber. He trapped her, pressing her with his own body. He rested one hand on the door next to her head and took her chin in the other, forcing her to look at him. The awkwardness was gone. It was replaced by pure, unbridled hunger.
“Not like that” he growled “You won't say goodbye to me as if nothing happened”
Her heart was pounding like a hammer. Fear mingled with forbidden excitement. This was what she had feared and desired from the moment she saw him. His lips found hers, but there was nothing tender or hesitant about this kiss. It was brutally honest, greedy and possessive. It was the kiss of a man who had stopped asking and started taking what he believed was already his.
Galadriel responded to his passion with a wild, predatory fervor. Her hands, which had at first tried to push him away, now clenched his clothes, pulling him even closer.
It was pure, unbridled desire, an explosion that had been inevitable from the moment they met on the raft in the middle of the sea. His lips unexpectedly moved to the sensitive skin of her neck. She felt his hot breath, then the burning touch of his tongue. She tilted her head back, resting it against the door, and surrendered completely to the wave of intoxicating sensations.
And just when she was on the verge of losing herself, he stopped.
Galadriel looked at him in disbelief. The primal, untamed fire still burned within him, but his voice, when he spoke, was a gentle whisper.
“Shall I stop?” he asked.
It was a merciless offer. He was giving her a choice, knowing full well that it was already too late. He knew that he had ignited a passion in her that she would not be able to extinguish on her own.
“No...” her answer was a barely audible, trembling whisper, which was also her liberation.
A dark, triumphant smile appeared on his lips. He began kissing her again, but this time the kiss was different. He kissed her possessively, greedily, and she answered him with the same passion at last unleashed.
In his arms, pressed against the door, Galadriel felt the years of constant tension leave her body. The eternal struggle and the weight of mourning melted away at his touch. For the first time since Finrod's death, she did not think of revenge. For the first time, she was finally not alone. In this forbidden, sinful entwining of their bodies, she found a strange, perverse solace.
Galadriel was ready for anything, and just then he broke their kiss and pulled away from her. Her breath was ragged and her lips parted. She looked at him, trying to understand what had happened.
“Forgive me, Galadriel” he said in a changed voice, as if each word caused him physical pain “Please... forgive me! This should not have happened. I got carried away. I... am not who you think I am. I have done something unforgivable”
She stood in silence, and the relief that had overwhelmed her a moment ago turned into an icy emptiness. He had aroused her, driven her to the brink of oblivion, and now… he was apologizing? Before she could gather her thoughts to respond, he took another step back. His face was still a mask of torment, but his eyes still burned with the same fire that so brutally contradicted his words.
“We are tired. Emotions have taken over” he continued “I don't want us to do something we'll both regret later. You... don't deserve that”
Galadriel moved closer to him, yet again he withdrew, and bent low in a bow before her.
“Good night, Galadriel” he said, then simply opened the door to his chamber and disappeared inside.
In a single moment, she was left alone in the empty, silent corridor. As if in a trance, she moved towards her chamber. Her body, though he no longer touched it, still burned. When she entered and closed the door behind her, she leaned against it, and her legs finally gave way. She slumped to the floor, pulling her knees to her chest.
Her mind was in chaos. She tried to recreate his words, his anguished gaze and finally his noble bow. She tried to believe in this game, but her body remembered the truth. She remembered the heat in his eyes, the possessiveness in his touch and the hunger in his kisses.
She raised her trembling hand and touched her lips. They were swollen and so sensitive. She realised she had just lost control. If he hadn't stopped, she would have let him open the door and lead her inside. She would have let him... do anything he wanted. At that moment, there was no resistance left in her. There was only a burning and all-consuming desire.
It was Halbrand, a mere man, who showed strength of will and reason at the last moment. He was the one who set her boundaries. While she, an immortal elf, commander and terror of Morgoth's servants, was ready to give herself to him. This simple truth terrified her more than any darkness she had ever fought.
On the following day, dawn forced its merciless way into Galadriel’s chamber, yet she no longer slept. She lay motionless, staring at the canopy above her bed, her mind endlessly replaying everything that had happened. The taste of his lips and the hardness of his body pressed against hers. His hoarse whisper when he asked if he should stop. Her own trembling voice when she begged him not to. And finally, that sudden, incomprehensible coldness when he pushed her away, talking about reason, while his eyes promised madness. She was lost, but she did not feel weak because of it. The chaos Halbrand had sown within her was terrifying, but also invigorating. He had torn down the walls of her prison, and from its ruins something new, dangerous and undeniably real had been born.
She rose from her bed with new strength. There was no place for doubt anymore. She had to face him in the light of day and understand what was true and what was merely the madness of the night.
She dressed quickly, choosing a simple blue dress, and hurriedly braided her hair. She was about to leave the chamber, heading straight for the forge, when an unusual commotion reached her from outside. The sound of horns echoed off the stone walls, followed by the patter of many feet and muffled shouts. She frowned, as this could mean the arrival of someone important. Resigned, she abandoned her original plan and headed towards the main courtyard to assess the situation. When she got there, her heart skipped a beat. In the very centre of the square, surrounded by Celebrimbor's honour guard, he stood. Tall, proud, with hair as dark as night. The High King of the Elves, Gil-galad, had arrived in Eregion.
Galadriel stopped, and in one moment his gaze reached her. He had noticed her. His eyes rested on her for but a moment, and though his face betrayed nothing, she sensed the cold weight of his judgment. The same coldness she had experienced when he tried to send her back to Valinor.
“Lady Galadriel” he said with a calmness that carried unquestionable authority and immediately silenced all other sounds “It is good to see you. Take me to Master Celebrimbor”
It was not a request. It was an order. Galadriel forced herself to bow respectfully, though inside she felt a growing sense of unease.
“High King. Your visit is an honour for us. Eregion welcomes you with joy. Celebrimbor is probably already in the forge” that was the last place she wanted to go right now, and Halbrand was the last person she wanted to see in Gil-galad's company.
“Then lead the way!” the King dismounted and followed her.
Behind them, at a discreet distance, walked two of his personal guards. They followed in silence for a moment, then the King spoke.
“How is the work progressing?” he asked, his tone only seemingly casual “Your last news was... promising, but it lacked detail. What exactly are you making with this precious mithril?”
“Unfortunately, we have very little of it” she replied, choosing her words carefully “At the same time, its power is too unstable to be contained in a single object such as a crown. Celebrimbor, after much deliberation, decided that it would be safest to divide this power and forge two rings”
The king thought for a moment, and a shadow of interest appeared on his stern face.
“That is a surprising concept” he admitted.
“Celebrimbor is not working alone. He has found unexpected help” she added as casually as she could.
“Help?”
“Yes, a man named Halbrand. It turned out that his knowledge of blacksmithing was surprisingly useful. He was the one who helped Celebrimbor understand the nature of mithril”
Gil-galad's face hardened and a palpable chill emanated from him.
“A man?” his voice was low and dangerous “You allowed a man to participate in the most sacred work of the Elves?!”
“As I said, his knowledge proved surprisingly useful” she said angrily “I made sure he did not participate in the most important phase of the work on the rings. His place...”
“His place is among men, Galadriel” Gil-galad interrupted sharply “Not in Eregion! I understand that your complicated relationship with men can sometimes cloud your judgement, but this is a matter of critical importance to all elves”
Galadriel clenched her teeth, feeling anger rising within her. His insinuations were difficult to bear, especially since they were partly true. Before she could respond, however, they reached the entrance to Celebrimbor's forge.
The door stood open, and a powerful heat and glow of fire emanated from within. Celebrimbor stood at a large anvil, surrounded by tables laden with tools and sketches. His face glistened with sweat, but his eyes burned with joy and passion. Halbrand stood at his side. He looked exactly as Galadriel remembered him from their last meeting, with a pensive expression and exuding a quiet, dangerous strength.
At the sight of Gil-galad, his guards, and Galadriel standing beside them, the elf froze. After a moment, he shook off his shock, and a mixture of panic and satisfaction appeared on his face. He hastily wiped his hands on a cloth and moved to meet his guests.
“High King!” Celebrimbor greeted him respectfully “Forgive us... we did not expect your visit. The forge is not a place worthy of receiving a ruler...”
Gil-galad did not respond to the courtesy. His gaze lingered on the silent man. He did not hide his surprise and indignation.
“I value your work more than formalities, Celebrimbor” replied Gil-galad “I would like to see what you have created”
The elf beamed with pride and led the King to a table on which, on black velvet, lay two simple rings, still without jewels. They glowed with a delicate inner light, and their power was almost tangible.
“They are not yet ready, my lord... but you can already feel it, can't you?” he whispered with reverent awe “It is the promise of our future”
Gil-galad came closer and raised his eyebrows in silent admiration. He reached out as if to touch one of them, but stopped at the last moment, respecting their pure power.
“They are beautiful” the High King did not hide his delight “Even in this imperfect form, they emanate a power I have never seen before”
“Yes!” Celebrimbor's enthusiasm grew “Our knowledge of mithril was insufficient, and its power too wild, but thanks to Halbrand's wisdom, we have discovered how to tame it”
At that moment, Celebrimbor turned to the silent man, placing his hand on his shoulder.
“High King, allow me to introduce to you Halbrand. A man who has proven to be an invaluable support to me. His intuition and understanding of metals are truly remarkable. He is not only a talented craftsman, but also the rightful king of the Southern Lands, who came to us to serve the light”
Halbrand bowed his head slightly to Gil-galad. His face showed restrained humility, but when he looked at Galadriel for a split second, there was a surprising confidence in him. Gil-galad instinctively tensed his jaw, for the sight of a man in this place, bearing such a role, was one he could not abide.
“High King, Master Celebrimbor is too gracious in his praise” Halbrand's voice was calm and respectful “I am nothing but a simple blacksmith who was allowed to witness the birth of a miracle. My presence here is merely a sign of the boundless generosity and wisdom of the elves, who see an ally even in someone as humble as myself. It is an honor to behold, under your wise guidance, the awakening of new hope for all of Middle-earth”
The subtle flattery did not escape Gil-galad's attention. His face softened slightly, though he still maintained a clear distance.
“Indeed” replied the High King haughtily “This is a work that will save our people”
“Of course, my lord. However, the enemy you fight does not threaten only you. Its shadow reaches the South. Adar and his foul hosts are destroying our homes and burning our fields. We fight the same enemy, though our weapons are fragile and our will weakens with each passing day” Halbrand replied with dignity.
“I know your suffering” Gil-galad said with royal indifference “Elves have been fighting darkness for centuries”
“You fight with sword and light, my lord” Halbrand said with growing confidence “Adar fights with an idea. He promises the orcs a purpose, and men the warmth of a fire. He gives them bread and a sense of belonging that I, as their king, cannot give them. How can I fight against that when your promise of an alliance, though powerful, is as distant to them as the stars?”
A long, heavy silence fell. Gil-galad did not take his eyes off Halbrand. His face was still like stone, but Galadriel saw something new in his eyes. Something more than just distrust.
“Forgive me, High King” Halbrand unexpectedly took a step back with modesty “I forgot myself. My human pain spoke louder than the respect due to your presence. It is not for me to speak of great matters. We are here only because of your wisdom and foresight. It was you, my lord, who first understood that the light in Middle-earth was fading and that a way must be found to save it. Master Celebrimbor and I... we are merely tools in your hands, realising your great vision...”
The King's face remained stern, but Galadriel noticed an almost imperceptible easing of tension in his posture. Flattery, even so subtle, was a powerful weapon. At the same time, she had the impression that the King was thinking more and more deeply, as if he had spotted some unexpected opportunity.
“The fate of Middle-earth is our common concern” Gil-galad finally replied, ‘but it is the elves who bear the greatest burden"
“And that is precisely why your sacrifice must be protected!” Halbrand immediately chimed in “Men so easily yield to shadow when they lack the light to guide them. Left on their own, they are doomed to fall once more. And their fall will become a sword aimed straight at the heart of Eregion and... Lindon”
“He is right!” Celebrimbor suddenly spoke up “High King... We cannot be so selfish. We thought only of saving our own race, while darkness engulfs all of Middle-earth! What worth is our light, should an ocean of darkness engulf us?”
Gil-galad raised an eyebrow, surprised by Celebrimbor's sudden outburst.
“What do you propose?” he asked with a hint of irony.
“I propose... a new alliance! A pact sealed not with blood, but with hope. This will allow men to stand by our side as true allies! We have created two rings. Let one of them remain with us to protect the heritage of the elves. But the other...” the elf did not even try to hide his emotions “...let it be a gift to the King of the South and his people. A symbol that the light and wisdom of the elves shall not abandon those who would stand and fight beside them”
“No, master... please” Halbrand said quietly, and his voice was full of pain and humility “I would not dare. It is too great an honour. My people... we do not deserve such a gift. Trust is earned through loyalty and blood shed in common struggle”
“Nonsense!” exclaimed Celebrimbor “Doesn't an alliance begin with a gesture of goodwill? This is not charity, Halbrand! It is the beginning of our shared future! The shield we forge must protect all of Middle-earth, not just our kingdoms!”
All eyes turned to Gil-galad. The final decision was his. Yet the King remained silent. He looked at Celebrimbor, then at Halbrand, and finally his gaze rested on Galadriel. That moment felt like an eternity to her, because she knew he was judging her again.
“Such a bond, tying our destiny to that of mankind, is an unimaginable risk. Yet perhaps...” Gil-galad continued slowly “...this risk is necessary. The weakened and divided kingdoms of men are an open wound through which darkness will always poison Middle-earth. United and bound to us in alliance, they can become our... shield”
Galadriel felt as if the ground had been pulled out from under her feet. She was completely shocked. Gil-galad, who had looked upon Halbrand’s part in the forging of the rings with such reluctance, now found himself contemplating the thought of entrusting one of them to him.
She understood that Halbrand's strength did not lie in his arms or his knowledge of metals. It lay in his incredible ability to find and exploit the deepest desires and fears of those who surrounded him.
Now he stood with his head bowed, perfectly playing the part of a man overwhelmed by the generosity of the elves. But when he raised his head for a split second and their eyes met, she saw it. The same dark, possessive gleam she had seen in the stable. A cold shiver ran down her spine. She had let him stay. She had yielded to him, and in the course of a single morning he had staked the fate of all Middle-earth, and it appeared he had prevailed.
Suddenly, the weight of the heated air, saturated with the smell of metal, was unbearable. She took advantage of the moment when everyone's attention was focused on the rings and slipped out of the forge unnoticed. She hoped no one would notice her disappearance, because she needed silence and a place where the chaos of emotions could give way to logic. So she went straight to the library.
She entered, and the coolness and quiet of the place immediately brought her relief. On the tall shelves, scrolls and books containing wisdom gathered over centuries stood in perfect order. Galadriel began to walk around the library, trying to calm her racing thoughts. Was it possible that she had been so wrong? That her instincts, honed over hundreds of years of hunting evil, had failed her so badly? That night, in that corridor, she had been ready to give herself to him. And he...
“I expected to find you here”
She turned abruptly and saw Gil-galad.
“Your silence in the forge was louder than all of Celebrimbor's words” he said, stopping a few steps away from her “You don’t approve of the solution I intend”
“I keep feeling that something very important is escaping me” she replied “We ourselves do not know the power of mithril, and I fear that we will give people a power they do not understand. It's like handing a torch to a child”
“But isn't that why we give children fire, so that they may learn to respect it, rather than hide from it in the darkness?” asked Gil-galad plainly “My reasons are more pragmatic than you think, Galadriel. Since you have allowed Halbrand into our secrets, let him be... useful. Adar and his armies may soon threaten Eregion. Someone must fight them. Every elf I send to this war may not return. There are fewer and fewer of us. Our lives are too precious to throw them into the front lines of battle when the kingdoms of men are full of brave warriors”
“So this is what it is all about” she said bitterly “You want to arm them so they can die for us”
“No. I want to give them the strength to defend their own homes, but in doing so, they will also defend our borders” he corrected her without hesitation “It is the duty of every king. To protect his own people, at all costs”
“What if that power turns against us? What if Halbrand uses it to create his own empire?”
Gil-galad stared at her, and for the first time, a look of genuine surprise appeared on his face.
“Do you suspect him of that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow slightly “I was under the impression that you trusted him. I had expected that you to be the greatest advocate of this alliance”
When she heard these words, she felt a wave of paralysing shame. So swiftly had she lost her faith in Halbrand, after she herself had asked him to stay. She had behaved exactly as he had predicted, like someone whose pride would always be more important than their heart.
“My question was not born of suspicion, but of concern” she said, her voice trembling with suppressed passion “I know the burden this man carries. I saw something more than just a king's ambition in his eyes. I saw someone who fights darkness not only on the battlefield, but also within his own soul. He deserves a chance and our trust”
Gil-galad was silent for a long moment, for he understood much more than Galadriel wanted to show him.
“I understand” a shadow of a smile appeared on his face for the first time, full of superiority and pride “But even if your suspicions were correct, I am not afraid of that. This ring, regardless of who wears it, was created by Celebrimbor. The song of the elves will always sing within it. No mortal, even if they lived a hundred years, would be able to fully control it. They could use its power as a weapon or a shield, but they would never use it against its creators. It is impossible”
Galadriel stared at him, the last remnants of her respect for his political game dying. It wasn't about alliance, hope, or fighting together.
“So it's all just politics” she said disappointedly.
“War is politics conducted by the sword” replied Gil-galad, and his smile vanished “And I prefer that sword to be in someone else’s hands. Think about it, for you know best that this war is near”
With these words, he left her alone. She had never experienced such loneliness before, because there were no innocents in this game of power. Gil-galad's icy logic, though repulsive, was something she could try to understand. But what Halbrand had done was something else. The comfort she had experienced in his arms now tasted like poison. She stormed out of the library in anger. She had to find him and finally find out what he meant.
She didn't have to look far. He was waiting for her. He stood in the same corridor where he had stirred up a storm in her the night before, as if he knew she would walk this way. At the sight of him, all her carefully constructed control shattered.
“Did your plan work?” she snapped, stopping right in front of him “Congratulations. Even the High King dances to your tune. Is that what you wanted all along? The ring? The power you can steal from our hands?”
The man looked at her, and in his eyes there was neither triumph nor guilt, only fatigue.
“Plan?” he repeated quietly “I had a plan when I wanted to stay and work in the forge in Númenor. Only you decided to make me king. You brought me to Middle-earth against my will”
He took a step towards her, but she did not back away. Her anger fought against the magnetic force of his proximity.
“Everything that has happened here has happened by your will, Galadriel. Not mine”
“You lie!” she cried “I saw how you manipulated everyone!”
“Let me remind you that you came to my chamber and asked me to become the hope of humans. You said that ‘in the deepest darkness, the light must become deceitful to have any chance’. Do you remember, Galadriel? Those are your words, not mine!”
She fell silent, and her anger lost its momentum for a moment, replaced by a wave of humiliation.
“You are right” he continued “I took advantage of the good heart of Celebrimbor, who is an artist and desires to create eternal beauty. I played on Gil-galad's fear, because he is a king who fears for the future of his people. I used every word and every fear to give my people a weapon, hope and an ally they would never otherwise have had. I did exactly what you expected of me. I became a deceitful light. Are you really angry with me for succeeding?”
Galadriel felt that she had been deceived and used, but at the same time she knew he was right. He did what was necessary. He was the ruthless and effective leader that the people needed. He was the monster she herself had helped to create, and now, to her horror, she did not fear him, but admired him in a perverse way.
“I did it for them. I never cared about the ring” before she could react, he grabbed her hand, his grip strong and unyielding “You are the only one who matters to me!”
His gaze burned with such intensity that it took her breath away. She didn't want to believe it, but her body betrayed her. Anger and desire became one destructive force that tore her apart from the inside. She tried to pull her hand away, but he grabbed it even tighter. His thumb began to slowly, sensually caress the sensitive skin of her wrist.
“Let me go!”
“You don't want this” he said.
He gently placed his other hand on her waist and pulled her even closer to him. He leaned in slowly, so that Galadriel could see the dark fire in his eyes that both frightened and fascinated her. She knew he was about to kiss her and that she would let him, because she wanted it. His lips were getting closer and closer until she felt his hot breath on her skin. And just then, in that perfect moment of complete abandon, she heard her name.
“Lady Galadriel?!” she knew perfectly well who had spoken those words.
She was overcome with paralysing fear and turned her head away abruptly. At the end of the corridor stood Gil-galad. His face, usually inscrutable, showed astonishment. His eyes were wide open, but they were not fixed on her, only on their entwined hands and their bodies pressed together.
Chapter 5
Notes:
Galadriel and Halbrand pay a heavy price for a moment of abandon, but… is it truly a punishment?
Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your support – all my stories have already had over 65,000 hits (!) 🥰❤️
Sorry for any mistakes - English is not my native language.
Chapter Text
Gil-galad did not shout. He just stood and watched, and his silence was worse than any outburst of anger. His face, usually so composed, showed something she had never seen before, it was pure, unadulterated astonishment, which slowly gave way to icy fury.
Finally, the High King slowly moved towards them. Each step brought them closer to the inevitable confrontation. The elf stopped right in front of them, and his contemptuous gaze rested on Halbrand for a split second before focusing entirely on her.
“My lord, it's not what you think” she began frantically, striving to wrest back control of the situation “We were just... talking”
“Spare me your lies, Galadriel” Gil-galad interrupted her, with obvious disappointment and anger “Your eyes speak louder than your words! For hundreds of years, we have built a bastion of order and dignity in Middle-earth, and you are willing to destroy it all for a moment of weakness...”
Then Halbrand took a step forward, coming to stand a little before her. His posture was respectful, but there was no fear in it.
“High King, the fault lies with me” he said firmly “Lady Galadriel is weary, for many trials and sorrows have befallen her of late. I tried too hard to comfort her. My behaviour was inappropriate. She bears no responsibility for it”
“Be silent!” Gil-galad hissed, ignoring him, because all his frustration was directed at her “Do you even understand what you have done? It is not about me, or even you. It is about the reputation of the Noldor and the symbol that you are. A commander, a warrior, and a pure ray of Valinor's light in this fallen world... and I find you in the arms of... that man!”
His gesture towards Halbrand was full of haughtiness, as if he were pointing at something dirty and repulsive.
“Is this what your brother fought for?” he asked angrily “For his sister to dishonour his memory by succumbing to a mortal?”
“You have no right...” she began, and her voice trembled.
“I have every right!” he interrupted her again “I have the right to protect the heritage of the elves from your recklessness! You are always convinced of your infallibility and do not care about the consequences of your actions”
His accusation was final and crushing. Galadriel felt a wave of humiliation wash over her. For years, she had endured his cold judgement and lack of faith in her mission. But this was different. This was too personal.
“Of course...” she snapped sharply, with a hint of bitterness accumulated over centuries “According to you, I am always responsible for everything. I was the problem when I was the only one who wanted to hunt Sauron while you were building your perfect kingdom. And now I'm the problem because I dared to believe in someone who is not an elf and who can support me in battle. That's the simplest explanation, isn't it?”
“Galadriel, do not confuse stubbornness with wisdom, or rebellion with strength!” he lost his temper for the first time “I do not care about your pride or your sense of injustice. I care only about the fate of my subjects. And you, in your arrogance, have just put it at risk. Do you truly think that what ties you to this man will stay concealed? Do you think it will not undermine your authority? And, consequently, mine? Once again, through your lack of prudence, you bring shame upon me, and once again I must worry about saving your honour!”
Galadriel laughed, but it was a laugh devoid of any joy.
“Are you afraid of rumors?!” she said in disbelief “You worry about my honor when the forces of darkness are growing in the east? When Celebrimbor is forging rings that could change the fate of the coming war? Are these your priorities, High King?”
"Rumors are a poison that destroys trust from within, faster than any army of orcs. Have you ever wondered how many elves consider you a symbol? I am the one who must make decisions that determine the survival of our race. And you, in your eternal, lonely pursuit of shadows, have never been able to understand that... You rule with a sword, Galadriel, and I must rule with something much more fragile, namely trust... which you have just undermined"
She stood in silence, her anger slowly giving way to helplessness. Seeing this, Halbrand tried to intervene once more, his voice calm and dignified, as if he had not heard the insults hurled at him.
”High King, with all due respect” he began “what is happening between Lady Galadriel and me is the result of my actions. It is I who...”
“I said, be silent!” Gil-galad interrupted him, without even looking at him.
“I will not allow her to be unjustly accused...” Halbrand did not give up this time.
Then Gil-galad noticed him for the first time. There was neither anger nor interest in his gaze, only pure contempt.
“Your opinion is irrelevant” he said slowly “You are merely a symptom of the disease, not its cause”
For one brief moment, Halbrand's face showed pure, cold hatred. It was something so dark that it did not suit a human being, but Gil-galad, fully focused on humiliating Galadriel, did not notice it.
“And the cause, as always, is your unbridled nature, Galadriel”
“Well... Actually, High King, you are right” Halbrand said after a moment, and she turned to him in astonishment “Lady Galadriel is like fire, untamed and dangerous, but only such a flame is capable of changing the fate of Middle-earth”
Gil-galad did not expect such words from the man he had just humiliated. He glanced at him with irritation and reluctant admiration for his skill. This ultimately confirmed his belief that he must end this chaos.
“Enough! Your... situation requires a formal resolution. Before rumors and suspicions poison everything we are trying to build” he paused for a moment “That is why tonight, both of you are to appear in the forge. Then I will inform you of my decision and the fate that awaits you. Until then, you are forbidden from any contact”
Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked down the corridor. Humiliated, Galadriel stood paralyzed. She looked at Halbrand, who silently returned her gaze, but in his eyes there was no fear, only a challenge that sparked something in her. Gil-galad had no right to treat her this way.
“Wait!” she cried.
The High King came to a halt, yet did not turn. Galadriel moved ahead of him and stood defiantly in his way, compelling him at last to meet her gaze.
“What you saw... was just a moment of weakness, and you want to sacrifice the entire future of Middle-earth for it?”
“You sacrificed it” he answered her briefly.
“No!” she protested passionately “I am trying to save it! Halbrand is probably the only person who can unite the people and create an army capable of stopping Adar before he knocks on our gates. You yourself said that he is our shield, and now you condemn him because of your wounded pride!”
The elf was silent for a moment, staring at her with cold, analytical precision. His calmness was far more disturbing than her anger.
“You should have thought of that earlier. Before you endangered our entire mission and the safety of Eregion for a single moment of oblivion”
“But...”
“Go to your chamber, Galadriel” he commanded “You will remain there until evening, and do not dare speak to him again until I have made my decision”
With these words, he left without looking back. Galadriel watched the empty corridor where Gil-galad had disappeared for a moment, then reluctantly made her way to her chamber. Her first reaction was to listen to her instincts and return to Halbrand, but she knew that if she did so, it would only make their situation worse. That way, the High King would have definitive proof of her recklessness. She couldn't do that to the people, and above all, to Halbrand. She had to play by the rules, even if it destroyed her from within.
When she finally found herself in her chamber, she felt like a naughty child who had been sent away, while the fate of Middle-earth was to be decided by someone who considered her as a problem. For a moment she moved restlessly about the chamber, her anger at Gil-galad so intense it seemed to choke her physically.
Then her thoughts returned to Halbrand. He stood in her defense, only to be swept aside at once by the King’s haughty pride, yet at the last… She froze mid-stride. That moment came back to her with full force. He hadn't just defended her. In the eyes of the High King, her untamed nature was a flaw that needed to be controlled, but in Halbrand's mouth, it became a force capable of changing everything. In one moment, she understood the difference between them. Gil-galad wanted to lock her in a cage built of honor, reputation, and duty. Halbrand saw her fire and did not want to extinguish it, but rather admired it.
She walked to the window and looked out at the peaceful gardens of Eregion. It was a world of elves, filled with order, beauty, and... slow passing. A world where her passion would always be seen as a threat. Involuntarily, she immediately thought of the South. It was a place ruled by chaos, which needed strength to give it shape.
Suddenly, everything fell into place. Her heart had made its choice long before her mind was ready to admit it. Gil-galad was just a pawn convinced of his power, while the real game was being played elsewhere.
If Halbrand was sentenced to exile tonight, she would not let him go alone. Her war was not waged in the gilded halls of Lindon, but in the places where the real enemy was. In the South.
She realized that this was not just the cool calculation of a commander, but also the decision of a being who, for the first time in many years, had found someone who not only saw the fire in her soul, but who burned with the same dark flame. And this realization, though terrifying, was more liberating than any promise of peace in Valinor. All fear and uncertainty left her heart. She was once again a warrior who had just decided her future.
Evening came. When Galadriel reached the forge, the others were already there. Gil-galad stood in the center, straight and impassive. Next to him was a clearly confused Celebrimbor. A little further away stood Halbrand, watched over by two of the King's guards, but clearly paying no attention to them. His bearing was composed, and he was focused on the fire in the hearth. Galadriel approached, cold determination burning in her eyes.
At the sight of her, Halbrand moved. He ignored the guards and took his place at her side without a word. It was a clear declaration that he was choosing her side. Gil-galad noticed this bold gesture, but did not react, instead beginning to speak.
“I have summoned you here because, after much thought, I have made a final decision...”
Galadriel felt her muscles tense. She was ready to fight for herself and Halbrand.
“...concerning the future of the rings” the King finished.
Halbrand and Galadriel looked at each other, their faces showing the same astonishment. They had expected a trial and punishment for breaking the rules. But was it not about their relationship, but about the fate of the most powerful objects ever created in Middle-earth? Then, both of them, to their dread, understood that they were still the accused, only the stakes of their trial had suddenly soared.
“When I look at them, I see our hope and... our doom. That is why I understood that their power is too great to fall into random hands. Let the rings abide, bound in shared destiny and purpose, as shall those ordained to bear them”
Gil-galad fell silent, and his eyes shifted to Halbrand.
“The first of the rings shall be given to Halbrand, to serve him as king of the South and our ally in the coming war. Let it be a symbol of his power and our promise of support”
Celebrimbor let out a muffled cry of joy. An alliance between elves and men sealed by the power of the rings was the fulfillment of his dreams. Halbrand, after a moment of feigned shock, bowed his head low in gratitude and humility. However, Galadriel knew that this was not the end, and she feared what would happen next.
“The second ring” continued the High King “shall go to you, Lady Galadriel”
She gasped. It was madness and humiliation. She tried to say something, to protest, but he went on speaking, giving her no chance.
“You have long been a couple…” Gil-galad’s tone bore a shade of irony, thinly masked yet clear to them alone “…allies, standing shoulder to shoulder against the shadow. Your faith in him and his devotion to our cause have made you not only a symbol of the new alliance, but also something that can no longer be hidden. So let these rings be the formal testament of your bond. Bound within them, you shall become the very shield of Middle-earth"
In one moment, Galadriel understood the cruelty of his decision. It was the most exquisite of punishments. Instead of condemning her and banishing him, Gil-galad had publicly bound their fates together. In this way, he forced them to play the role of allies, using their own hidden passion as a political tool. Every gesture and decision they made would be judged through the prism of this imposed bond. It was a golden cage, forged from their own weakness.
“Is this... a political solution?” she asked, unable to hide her bitterness.
“It is a necessary solution” Gil-galad stated without satisfaction, and all that remained in him was the stern gravity of a ruler who had made a difficult and, in his opinion, final decision.
Galadriel opened her mouth, but the King continued.
“I have agreed with Master Celebrimbor that the work will be expedited and the rings will be ready by tomorrow. A feast will be held tomorrow evening in honor of the new alliance. And at this feast, before all the Elves of Eregion, you will be officially presented as the bearers of the rings”
After these words, silence fell in the forge. Gil-galad smiled formally, turned and headed for the exit, and his guards followed him. He had passed judgment and did not intend to discuss it.
“Did you hear that?” Celebrimbor said unexpectedly when they were alone “Halbrand, my friend, we must get back to work immediately! Galadriel, time is of the essence, because every detail must be perfect, so I will need your help as well”
The excited elf was already heading towards the hearth, but Halbrand stood motionless, his gaze still fixed on Galadriel. All his humility and gratitude had disappeared, replaced by seriousness and a new, difficult-to-read intensity.
“Master” he said firmly “please give us a moment. I need to have a word with Lady Galadriel”
Celebrimbor was surprised by his tone, but seeing the tension on their faces, he did not protest. He just nodded, somewhat surprised, and walked away, trying to give them space. Halbrand turned to Galadriel and pointed to the door of the forge.
They stepped out into the cool night air. They walked a few steps in silence and stood there for a long moment, not looking at each other, and the quiet between them was heavier than ever. She was the first to break it. Her voice was a stifled whisper, full of disbelief.
“It wasn't supposed to be like this” she said, staring into the darkness “I didn't want this. I just wanted...”
She paused, unable to finish. She wanted to be close to him, but not to be chained to him in front of all of Middle-earth.
“I know, I didn't expect it either” he sighed heavily, his glance wandering toward the illuminated towers of Eregion “But it happened. And now... we can't let them down, Galadriel. We have too much responsibility”
Spoken with deadly seriousness, his words made her whirl toward him, with a look of astonishment that hovered on the edge of believing he had lost his mind. Disbelief mingled with growing anger within her.
“Are you listening to yourself?” she snapped “Just yesterday you wanted to leave! Leave me... and all this, to live as an ordinary man. And now suddenly you're talking about responsibility?!”
“Then I had a choice” he replied, still unnaturally calm.
“And now? What has changed so suddenly?! Have you been enlightened by the glow of the rings?”
“No!” he took a step closer, and his presence suddenly became overwhelming “I just could have ignored your pleas and walked away as a mere human. Running away would have been cowardly, but it was still possible”
He paused, and his voice became quieter but more intense.
"And now I have a duty. The High King of the Elves, in the presence of the most eminent blacksmith, named me king and ally. He has tied my destiny to yours and entrusted me with the future of the alliance that is to deliver Middle-earth. If I leave now, I will no longer be a coward. I will be a traitor. And you, who vouched for me, will be humiliated and disgraced“ there was no trace of the passion or tenderness of the previous night in his eyes, only cold, inexorable logic "The game is over, Galadriel. The reality we both wanted so much to avoid has begun. There is no turning back. Not for me, nor for you"
His words left only a feeling of helplessness. Galadriel stood silently, trying to find any loophole in his logical thinking, but there was none. He was right. They were trapped.
“I...” she began “I feel like everything is slipping out of my hands. Every decision I make leads me to a place I never wanted to be. I feel like I'm not the one deciding about my life...”
“Maybe this is the Valar's plan, and we have to accept it?” he said quietly “Maybe destiny is not something we should fight against? Fate has given us these roles, Galadriel...”
He came close, raised his hand, and with extraordinary gentleness brushed away a strand of hair that had fallen on her cheek. It was a gesture so simple that for a moment she forgot everything else. And then his fingers moved, and his thumb sensually caressed the pointed tip of her ear. It was an intimate touch, but there was no comfort in it, only curiosity and a quiet declaration of ownership, as if he were checking the quality of the object he had just received. Galadriel held her breath, and a cold shiver ran through her body that she could not understand. Halbrand withdrew his hand, and his gaze became intense, almost hypnotic.
“We will decide what this alliance will truly be. Will it be just a political farce forced upon us by the King? Or will it be... something much more powerful?” he smiled.
His words were almost convincing, but when he looked at her, she saw a barely visible flash of satisfaction and triumph on his face. Suddenly, everything became clear to her.
“You want this!” she exclaimed in disbelief and stepped back “You've been striving for this from the beginning. You want this power and the ring! You desire it...”
She hoped he would deny it, but instead, a predatory smile appeared on his lips.
“And you don't?” he asked, approaching her, his eyes burning with a new, dark energy "Don't pretend you're just a victim in Gil-galad's game. You wanted the King of the South, so you got him. You wanted the power to fight with Adar, and you have it. Fate gave us exactly what we both secretly asked for“
”I never...“ she began, trying to protest, but the truth in his words stopped her.
”Never? The truth is, I've already forgotten what the desire for power is. I lived from day to day. But you... you rekindled that fire in me. You showed me that there is something to fight for... and someone to fight for“ he whispered sensually, his stare becoming so intense that it took her breath away “That is why I want this bond that the King has imposed on us. Because it gives me the right to stand by your side”
“Halbrand...” she wanted to say something, but the door to the forge opened and Celebrimbor came out.
“Forgive me for interrupting” he said “but time is running out and we have a whole night of work ahead of us. Every moment is precious if the rings are to be ready tomorrow. You must help me...”
The three of them returned to the forge in silence. Consumed by his craft, Celebrimbor had shed all earlier unease, burning with the feverish energy of a creator a breath away from finishing his life’s work.
“Every part must be perfect. Each of us must put a piece of ourselves into these rings” the elf declared.
He approached the carved box on the table and took out two perfectly cut gems. One glowed with a deep, fiery red, like the heart of a volcano. The other shimmered with a cool, white-blue glow, like starlight reflected on the surface of a frozen lake.
“I’ve decided that, since these rings are for you, they shall bear the power of fire and water, united in harmony” said Celebrimbor.
He carefully took out the red stone and turned to Halbrand.
“For you, I have fire. A symbol of passion, strength, and rebirth that you will bring to your land”
Then, with even greater delicacy, he picked up the second gem. It’s cool glow illuminated Galadriel's face.
“And for you, my dear, there is water. A symbol of wisdom, strength, and perseverance. Together, they will create a perfect balance”
Galadriel was terrified because Celebrimbor, in his artistic innocence, had described their relationship with frightening precision. They began their work, and first they had to set the stones in the rings. They started with Galadriel's ring.
“Hold it” the elf instructed her, handing her a pair of long pliers. “It must be stable”
She gripped the tool holding the ring with all her strength until Celebrimbor frowned. She hadn't worked in a forge for too long.
“No, not like that! You'll distort it. Do it more gently”
Before she could correct her grip, Halbrand was already behind her. He didn't say a word. He just came up behind her and put his hand on hers, which was holding the pliers. His body almost completely covered her, and his chest pressed against her back.
“Oh yes...” he whispered in her ear, his hot breath sending a shiver down her neck “The weight of the tool should do the work for you. You just guide it”
His fingers slowly, deliberately caressing her, adjusted the position of her fingers on the pliers. This was no longer instruction. It was a sensual gesture that lasted far too long. She could smell him, feel the warmth of his body and the vibration of his low voice right against her skin. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to focus on the task rather than the chaos that was raging in her senses. Then his thumb began to trace slow, lazy circles on the back of her hand.
“Good... You can't rush it” he said right behind her, his body subtly brushing against hers “See? It's about finding the right pace. Calm and steady... which will be increasing... until the very end”
Galadriel held her breath. It was unbearable. Trapped in his arms and sensual words, she tried to focus on the ring and the gem, but her mind was burning. Suddenly, his hips pressed against her even more, so that through the thin fabric of her dress she felt something hard and hot, so that she had no doubt that Halbrand desired her so shamelessly that he was no longer able to hide it.
“And now...” he continued, his lips almost touching her earlobe “The most important moment. It must be one decisive movement. Trust your instincts and you will know when it should go in”
His words were so bold and direct that her heart stopped beating for a moment. When the gem was in place, Galadriel bit her lip to stifle a sudden sigh.
“See?” he whispered “A perfect fit...”
“Your help...” her voice trembled.
“I will teach you everything, if you let me. All night until dawn, Galadriel” he murmured in her ear.
Their hands intertwined on the cold metal, but a real fire smoldered beneath their skin.
“Perfect!” Celebrimbor approached them, unaware of anything “You work together as if you can read each other's minds. Excellent harmony”
The gem was in place, and they had to let go of each other's hands. Halbrand walked away, but Galadriel did not dare to look at him. She knew that something much more powerful and dangerous than just two rings of power had been created in the forge that night.
Their work was only finished when night gave way to pale dawn. Two rings lay ready on black velvet, seeming to pulsate with their own inner light.
“We did it...” Celebrimbor stared at them with a mixture of exhaustion and joy “They are more beautiful than I imagined”
Galadriel was overcome with overwhelming fatigue. The entire night spent in tension and sensual closeness with Halbrand had left its mark on her. She just wanted to return to her chamber and fall asleep.
“You have created masterpieces” she said quietly to Celebrimbor “And now, forgive me, my friend, but I must rest before the feast”
She nodded and moved toward the exit. She was almost at the door when she heard Halbrand behind her.
“Galadriel... Wait”
She stopped but did not turn around. She waited, her heart beating a little faster. Halbrand approached her. He was very tired, but his eyes burned with the same disturbing intensity.
“I would like to ask you something. I know this feast shall be a hard evening for us both. Therefore… may I come to you, that we may go together?”
His proposal surprised her, because after everything that had happened, it was pure madness.
“Halbrand, I don't know if that's a good idea” she replied “After what Gil-galad saw... it could be taken as a provocation”
“Perhaps” he admitted without hesitation "but I am the only human here. A stranger whom some of the elves barely tolerate. Tonight, I am to stand before them and accept a gift I did not ask for. I will be alone... watched by so many distrustful beings. You are the only one in all of Eregion whom I trust. The only one who knows the truth. If I must go through this, I want to do it by your side"
His words were a masterful blend of vulnerability and strength. Galadriel looked at him, fighting a losing battle with her reason.
“Agreed” she said finally “Come for me before the feast”
The dream, though short and restless, brought Galadriel relief. She awoke feeling the burden of the coming evening, but also a new, unsettling lightness in her heart, because she knew Halbrand would be with her.
The maids helped her pin up her hair and put on a delicate tiara, whose thin golden leaves seemed to entwine her head like vines forged from light. She chose a dress made of heavy white silk, with gold-embroidered sleeves and bodice. When the maids finally left, leaving her alone, she walked over to the large mirror.
She saw her exhaustion after a sleepless night, but she saw something else as well. Something she had not seen in her reflection since Finrod's death. Her face glowed with a warm radiance that seemed to flow from her very heart. A barely visible, unconscious smile played on her lips. Despite all of Gil-galad's anger and the specter of impending war, in this one stolen moment, she was happy. Just then, there was a quiet but confident knock at the door. She knew perfectly well who it was.
“Come in!” she said, her heart beating faster.
The door opened, and Halbrand stepped into the chamber, more striking than she had ever beheld him. He was wearing deep, rich red velvet robes with silver trim on the cuffs. The outfit emphasized the width of his shoulders and the slenderness of his figure. His hair, usually messy, was combed back, revealing his high forehead and noble features. He looked like a prince from long-forgotten songs. Predatory, powerful, and absolutely stunning.
He stopped in the doorway and his gaze rested on her. He was supposed to say some prepared greeting, but he didn't speak. He just looked at her, and his eyes showed pure, undisguised admiration, which quickly turned into something much deeper. The same possessive, fiery hunger she had felt in the hallway.
“I was going to say something wise” he finally said “Something befitting a king going to his first feast, but when I saw you, Galadriel, I was speechless. You are a light, and you always have been. But today... you're on fire”
His words made the air in the chamber thick, almost heavy with unspoken desires. One more moment or word, and she knew they would succumb to this dangerous passion again, forgetting all about Middle-earth, the feast, and the rings.
“Let's not keep them waiting” she stated firmly and took him by the arm.
It was a formal gesture, the complete opposite of the intimate caresses she so desired. Halbrand looked at her with slight amusement, but understood her intentions and allowed himself to be led. They moved toward the largest hall.
As soon as they crossed the threshold, the quiet conversations and delicate harp music stopped for a moment. The surprised elves watched them with curiosity, and sometimes even indignation, because no one expected them to come together. Galadriel, however, walked with her head held high, leaning on Halbrand's arm.
Finally, she spotted the largest table, where Gil-galad was already seated. He appeared to be absorbed in conversation, but she knew he was aware of their arrival. As they approached, he looked up for a split second, his eyes burning with barely concealed rage. The feast had not yet begun, but the atmosphere was already heavy with tension.
When Galadriel and Halbrand took their places on either side of the King, the last conversations fell silent and the servants finished pouring the wine. Gil-galad slowly rose. His figure, illuminated by the warm light of the lanterns, radiated unquestioned authority.
“Noble Elves of Eregion” he began, his clear and powerful voice carrying easily throughout the hall "We have gathered today to celebrate the creation of works that are our greatest hope. But... we cannot allow joy to obscure the truth. And the truth is that shadows are gathering over Middle-earth once more. The enemy we thought we had defeated is growing in strength again, and his foul hordes are ravaging the lands of the South. In the face of the coming war, we cannot stand alone. Every sword, every shield, and every spark of hope is precious"
The elf paused, allowing his words to sink in fully.
“Fortunately, fate has brought us an ally” Gil-galad turned and pointed to Halbrand, who rose with restrained dignity “I present to you Lord... Halbrand, King of the Southern Lands, who will unite his people and stand shoulder to shoulder with us in battle”
A muffled murmur of surprise ran through the hall. Gil-galad's official recognition of a human ruler was unexpected. Galadriel looked at Halbrand, trying to guess what lay behind his calm mask.
“Unfortunately, words and promises can be fleeting” continued the High King “and an alliance must be sealed”
He gave a sign, the doors of the hall swung open, and Celebrimbor entered. On a black velvet cushion, he carried two rings. The gems shone with astonishing force, the crimson of fire and the azure of water seeming to dance as they cast gentle gleams. Everyone in the hall held their breath, mesmerized by their beauty.
"Thanks to Celebrimbor's genius, we have tamed the power of mithril and enclosed it in these two rings. They are neither adornment nor weapon“ Gil-galad's attention focused on Galadriel and Halbrand ”These rings are a symbol of a new, unbreakable alliance that will unite the courage of men with the wisdom and strength of the elves. Their light will protect Middle-earth from darkness"
Everyone looked at the rings, and Gil-galad waited a moment, allowing the tension to reach its peak.
“That is why these rings cannot fall into random hands” he continued "Their power must be entrusted to those who have already proven their courage and devotion to the cause. Those whose fates are already intertwined in a common struggle... Lady Galadriel and King Halbrand, side by side, have already faced the forces of Adar in the South. They are allies united by war and a common goal. So let these rings be the final seal of their pact"
Galadriel felt the astonished glances upon her and understood with all her might what Gil-galad meant when he spoke of rumors and saving her honor. If only they knew...
“This is Narya. The Ring of Fire” the High King took the ring with the red stone “May it rekindle the hearts of men and give them strength to fight”
He turned to the man, but his movements were almost forced.
“Halbrand, King of the South, on behalf of the elves, accept this gift”
Halbrand took the ring hesitantly. As soon as he touched it, the red gem flashed violently with a blinding light, as he recognized his master. A muffled cry of admiration ran through the hall. He stared at the gem for a moment, then slowly slipped it onto his finger. He raised his hand, watching the light dance in the heart of the stone, and his face showed a mixture of reverence and disbelief. Finally, his gaze wandered to the assembled guests.
“High King” he said to Gil-galad, bowing his head slightly "I am not worthy of this gift. It is a work born of elven wisdom, hope, and light that my people have not seen for generations. However, I believe that fire purifies. This ring is not for me, but for the South. It is a promise that even in the deepest darkness, light can be found... if one has the courage to use the right flame. Therefore, I swear before you all that I will devote every moment of my life to making Middle-earth a place of peace and perfect order once again"
His words touched the hearts of the elves. They saw before them a noble, humble king who gratefully accepted their gift. Only Galadriel again had the impression that Halbrand was really talking about something completely different.
Gil-galad waited for the applause to die down, then became serious again. Then, with the same solemn gravity, he reached for the second ring.
“Nenya. The Ring of Water and a symbol of wisdom and strength that even the deepest darkness cannot break”
He turned toward Galadriel and raised the ring to give it to her, and then something unexpected happened. The ring suddenly seemed to come alive slipped from Gil-galad’s fingers, as though it had chosen to flee. With a soft, melodious clink, it fell onto the shiny floor. It rolled a short distance, spinning around its axis, and came to a stop in front of Halbrand.
For a moment, the hall fell silent, filled with disbelief and anxiety. Gil-galad stood paralyzed, with his empty hand. Before anyone could react, Halbrand bent down and picked up the ring. However, he did not return it to the King. Instead, he moved towards Galadriel. He approached her and, in front of all the elves, knelt on one knee.
“Will you allow me to...?” he whispered in a voice so low that only she could hear him.
Galadriel nodded slightly, and Halbrand gently but firmly took her left hand.
“I dare not oppose the will of fate” he said loudly and clearly this time. “This ring has already found its queen”
Slowly, he slipped Nenya onto her finger, and the jewel sparkled on her hand. Galadriel stood petrified, her heart beating so hard that she feared everyone could hear it. What had happened was such a bold and intimate gesture that she felt her cheeks burning.
Unexpectedly, Halbrand, without standing up, took her hand in both of his and pressed his lips to the delicate skin of her palm. It was a sensual and slow kiss, saturated with devotion and passion. Halbrand had not only given her the ring, but himself. His lips tarried on her skin a heartbeat beyond what etiquette allowed, and in that instant all saw the truth that could no longer be concealed. They were not bound by alliance or politics. They were bound by something much deeper and much more dangerous.
A deathly silence fell over the hall. Everyone stared at this impossible and extremely intimate image. The human king knelt at the feet of the elven princess, kissing her hand like the most loyal of subjects and the most passionate of lovers.
Chapter 6
Notes:
What if the most terrifying question is not “Who is he?” but rather “Who am I becoming beside him?”... 😈
Chapter Text
Absolute silence fell in the hall, as though time itself had halted at Halbrand’s single, bold gesture. Everyone, from the lords who had come with Gil-galad from Lindon to Celebrimbor's youngest assistants, stared in disbelief at the elf and the man.
Halbrand was still kneeling at Galadriel's feet. Finally, he raised his head and smiled at her with confidence and triumph, and his eyes burned with the same possessive adoration. Galadriel stood paralysed, feeling the eyes of the assembled crowd upon her, but Halbrand seemed completely unconcerned. Slowly, with royal dignity, he released her hand and rose from his knees.
He did not turn to face the King's anger. He paid no attention to the shocked elves. He was deliberately focused only on her. There was no trace of fear or shame on his face. Only the calmness of a man who had just done what he intended to do.
He offered her his arm, and for a moment Galadriel did not know what to do. Refusal would be a public rejection of him, and approval would be the ultimate confirmation that there was something more between them. Finally, she took his arm, and he led her to her seat with distinguished firmness.
With their first step, the silence vanished, replaced by a wave of hurried yet muffled whispers that spread through the hall. Halbrand seemed not to hear them. He pulled out her chair and waited for her to sit down before taking his own seat, then, as if nothing had happened, reached for his goblet of wine.
The feast continued in an atmosphere of illusory balance. Music played, wine flowed into goblets, and the elves made polite conversation. However, every bite of food tasted like ashes to Galadriel. She felt the cold, condemning gaze of the High King upon her, as well as Halbrand's proximity and his almost dismissive nonchalance, which drove her mad.
She could not bear it any longer. She had to escape from here to be able to breathe again. She seized the moment when the elves' attention was focused on the poet beginning his recitation of a song from Valinor. She quietly rose and bowed her head slightly to the King, then moved towards the side exit.
Fortunately, no one stopped her. She left the hall and walked down the wide corridor. She had not gone far when she heard familiar footsteps behind her. She stopped by the window but did not turn around.
“The star of Eärendil shines especially brightly today” said Elrond, standing beside her.
“It always shines like that when the forces of darkness are growing” she replied and looked up at the sky.
“Just like today, Galadriel?” he asked with concern “Or is it you yourself who extinguishes the light around you?”
“Elrond, please, not now...” she finally looked at him and saw that his face was full of pain, which he did not even try to hide.
“Right now!” he interrupted her with surprising determination “Since you returned to Eregion, I don’t recognise you. I understand that there are things you don’t want to talk about, but even now you are turning away from me. Have you stopped trusting me? Talk to me. Please...”
“There is nothing to talk about, Elrond” she searched for words that would not be a lie “War is coming, and every day brings new threats...”
“Is that all?” he asked angrily “That's an excuse! I've known you for so many years. You've never been so... distant and withdrawn, but I know who is responsible for this. It's Halbrand... Are you sure you can trust him?”
“He's our ally” she replied evasively.
“I didn't ask about that. I asked if you trust him? I see him as a skilled craftsman, but there's something else. There's a shadow in him that consumes you”
“You don't understand... I... I don't even know how to describe it. Every day I think about what separates us and what could destroy us, but then one glance, one gesture is enough... and suddenly it's different. So dangerously simple...”
“Galadriel, stop it! I know what I just saw. From the moment you brought him wounded to Eregion, it was clear that there was something between you. Maybe I was the only one who didn't want to see it”
She held her breath, completely defenceless against the ease with which Elrond had discovered their secret.
“Elrond, it's...” she tried to deny it, but her voice trembled and she fell silent.
“You don't have to answer me, but you must know that rumours are spreading that there is more than an alliance between you. They say... that you are lovers” he spoke the last words as if they caused him physical pain.
Galadriel was overcome with shame and regret. For a moment she wanted to protest, but she knew her friend would easily distinguish falsehood from truth. Then something inside her snapped. She was taken by a sudden anger that was not directed at Elrond or Halbrand, but at her fate, which never allowed her to simply feel.
“Do I always have to explain my choices?!” she exclaimed in despair “I am always the one who has to excuse and justify myself. They never let me just be myself, but instead constantly judge me!”
Her breathing was shallow, and her hands clenched into fists. For a brief moment, Elrond saw before him not the great Lady Galadriel, but a being torn between her feelings and what had taken away her right to her own desires.
“I wanted... to forget who I am to them for a moment” she finished more quietly.
She did not wait for his answer, but turned and disappeared into the darkness of the corridor, leaving him alone.
“Galadriel, wait!” Elrond called after her, but she ran faster and faster “Please! I wanted to help you!”
She didn't think about where she was running, but she wanted to be as far away as possible from Elrond, his questions, and herself. Suddenly, as she ran past a side corridor, she felt powerful arms wrap around her from behind. A stifled cry escaped her lips. She began to struggle, to fight, but the grip was too strong. A hard, muscular body pressed against her back, and lips found their way to her ear.
“What happened?” she heard Halbrand's low, familiar whisper “Did someone hurt you?”
He turned her to face him, and his hug, though strong, was now more protective than possessive.
“Everyone... is only looking for my weaknesses and watching for betrayal. I can't breathe anymore, Halbrand, do you understand? Even Elrond...” she trailed off, and her eyes shining with humiliation and rage.
The man embraced her tightly, no longer caring about discretion. He was warm like steel taken from the fire.
“Let me be your refuge for a moment” he whispered, running his hand down her back.
“No! You are responsible for what happened!” after a moment of surprise, her panic turned into pulsing anger.
“Not here” he whispered “Let's go to the one place where no one will dare to interrupt us”
He let go of her and looked towards the forge. Galadriel hesitated, her anger mixed with wounded pride, but answers were what mattered most. She nodded.
When they entered the forge, he slammed the door behind them and then stopped right next to her. In the glow of the dying fire, his eyes were inscrutable and full of a fervour he could no longer hide. Galadriel stood opposite him, feeling her heart beating faster in her chest than she would have liked to admit.
“Why did you do that?! Why did you kiss my hand like that? It's...” she paused, because her indignation was mixed with shame “You have tarnished my honour! And now everyone will suspect that we... we... are lovers!”
At her pained accusation, Halbrand took a step back, a look of genuine surprise appearing on his face. However, his astonishment quickly gave way to disbelief, and Galadriel herself doubted her anger for a moment.
“Lovers?” he repeated, and that one word sounded impossible coming from his mouth “By the Valar, Galadriel, what are you talking about?”
He looked at her, and there was no trace of triumph or desire on his face. There was only despair, as if she had just inflicted the deepest possible wound on him.
“It was a tribute...” he stammered “The highest expression of respect and loyalty I could show you. And you say that I have tarnished your honour? I thought I was defending it. I thought I was showing who I would serve from now on. That the ring you gave me and the life you saved belong to you”
His explanation was passionate and so full of pain that it sowed seeds of doubt in her heart. She began to wonder if she could have been so wrong. Had her own complicated feelings and distrust of elves caused her to misunderstand this simple, yet bold gesture?
“I did not think” he continued, his gaze full of wounded pride “that in such a pure act of devotion, you... and the other elves would see something so... low. My world is simpler, Galadriel. With us, loyalty is sealed with deeds, not empty words. I am sorry if your hearts are so cold that they cannot understand this”
Something sensual and barely perceptible, intended solely for her, pulsed ever more strongly in his voice.
“I do not regret what I have done, but perhaps there is still a way to make amends. I can leave tomorrow. I will disappear from Eregion and return to the South. Everything will quiet down, the King will calm himself, and your reputation...” he paused and suddenly became serious.
Galadriel did not answer him, but watched him and felt a familiar fear growing that something was happening again that she had no control over.
“Unfortunately, then there is a risk that some will think that I fled because I seduced you and something happened between us that can no longer be hidden. New rumours will arise, and there is no telling what Gil-galad will do... However, if I stay, perhaps the only way to silence the rumours will be... to officially acknowledge what happened, but...” he shook his head and fell into thought.
His words, full of regret and nobility, for a moment threw her off balance. They were almost... convincing. But when she looked into his eyes, where the same fire burned, her warrior’s instinct prevailed over the momentary doubt. He was playing games again.
“Enough!” she protested, her voice now calm and cold “Spare me your noble words, Halbrand. You stand before me, and there is not a shred of regret in you. I see only satisfaction and triumph, so stop pretending”
Halbrand looked away for a moment, biting his lip slightly. It was a gesture that could have been taken as a sign of remorse, but Galadriel saw a barely perceptible shadow of a smile in it. Slowly, almost provocatively, he moved closer to her and stopped so close that only a few inches separated them. Without asking her permission, he reached for her hand, running his fingertips from her elbow up the soft fabric of her dress.
“Tell me what you felt, Galadriel, when I knelt before you... Shame? Or perhaps... pride? Or something you don't even want to admit to yourself?” he whispered sensually.
“Halbrand... stop” Galadriel wanted to pull away, but she couldn't.
He didn't move away, and their bodies were almost touching.
“Do you want me to stop?” he replied in a firm tone “Then say it in a way that will make me believe you”
She could hear her heart beating fast. He immediately took advantage of her hesitation. He reached out and, before she could pull away, took her hand in his. Their fingers intertwined, and his thumb brushed gently the inside of her palm.
“Yes... No...” she tried to answer.
Halbrand leaned even closer, his nose brushing her cheek and stopping at her hairline. He sighed, and she felt the warmth of his lips as if he wanted to kiss her temple but stopped himself.
“I know you're afraid of rumours and what you feel, but tell me the truth, Galadriel, here, where no one can hear us...” he whispered “Do you really regret what happened? Is that the reason for your anger... or is it that you want something more?”
Galadriel caught her breath, knowing well that he possessed the answer, but still she longed for him to stop and spare her that shame. She pulled away, but Halbrand still held her hand.
“You always have to win, don't you?”
“No, but if I'm going to lose, I want you to beat me fair” he had no intention of backing down.
Galadriel trembled. She was trapped between desire, guilt and anger at him, but also at herself.
“I will never belong to anyone!”
“Let me at least try, Galadriel” Halbrand kissed her hand passionately “Tell me, what should I kiss next? Your lips, your neck, or maybe... is there another place that longs for my touch?”
Galadriel suddenly trembled, broken by her own reaction and unable to respond. A blush spread across her cheeks, and a feverish tension pulsed through her entire body. She tried to extricate her hand from his grip, but Halbrand did not budge. He held her tightly, with that defiant calm.
Unexpectedly, the door to the forge opened. Gil-galad stood in the doorway, surrounded by several advisors. The elf immediately noticed their clasped hands and Galadriel's flushed cheeks. She tried to pull away, but Halbrand would not let her. He was waiting for a confrontation and wanted everyone to see that there was more between them.
Gil-galad was silent, searching for words that could break the silence saturated with what could no longer be hidden. Halbrand, without taking his eyes off him, slowly and ostentatiously intertwined his fingers with Galadriel's hand even more tightly.
“Can you explain to me, Galadriel, what is going on here?” asked the High King.
She opened her mouth to find any lie or excuse that could save them, but her mind was blank. She looked at the cold fury in the elf's eyes. Then Halbrand took the initiative. His attitude was respectful, and his face showed deep concern.
“High King, I asked Lady Galadriel for this conversation” he said solemnly.
“And what reason could be so important that you meet here completely alone?” Gil-galad raised an eyebrow.
“The same reason that, I believe, brings you here, my lord. The honour of Lady Galadriel and the stability of the alliance you have just announced”
The High King's advisors looked at each other with intrigue.
“Today at the feast” Halbrand spoke again, his words full of feigned concern “I made a grave mistake. My bold gesture, though a sign of the highest loyalty in my culture, was misunderstood here. What was meant to be a tribute was perceived as... something that casts a shadow on Lady Galadriel's honour”
He spoke with such passion and sincerity that Galadriel herself almost believed his version.
“That is why I had to talk to her. I had to find a solution before this... incident destroyed our alliance”
“And did you find one?” Gil-galad asked with icy irony.
“I searched... I considered leaving. But that would have been an admission of guilt and a final confirmation of the rumours. I thought about distancing myself publicly, but our role as the Ring-bearers requires close cooperation. However...” he paused, as if he was struggling with his own courage “Among men, the only way to wash away the shadow from the reputation of a noble woman is to... swear an oath to her and make her your wife. In this way, I could protect Lady Galadriel's good name and show that my gesture was an expression of the highest respect”
He paused, lowering his head slightly to add even more humility to his posture.
“Of course, I dare not... ask for such a great honour, and Lady Galadriel should not pay such a high price for my audacity, but you must remember, High King, that this is not just a matter of honour...”
Gil-galad turned pale and did not allow Halbrand to finish.
“Are you telling me that marriage is the best solution, and you dare to suggest that the princess of the Noldor should become the wife of... a human?” the elf did not even hide his anger “You brazenly try to undermine the laws that have stood here for millennia! Isn't it enough that we saved your life and gave you a ring?! This is unacceptable!”
Halbrand accepted his indignation with strange calm, his gaze full of respect, which contrasted sharply with the boldness of his idea.
“You are absolutely right, High King, if there were peace in Middle-earth, what happened would be a disgrace. However, we are at war, and the scandal we are talking about has already happened” he fell silent, his glance shifting first to the King's advisors and then back to him “Therefore, the most important question is, who will exploit this scandal? Us... or our enemy?”
“What do you mean by that?” Gil-galad growled, taken aback by this sudden change in narrative.
“You can punish me” Halbrand spread his arms in a gesture of apparent helplessness “You can separate us. But then what? Rumours of what happened, of the disgrace of your greatest warrior, will reach Adar. He will not see justice in this, only an opportunity for himself. He will see your weakness and then he will strike”
What he said was logical and hit straight at all of Gil-galad's fears.
“Or... you can use what happened and this unbridled power between us and turn it into a weapon. You can show all of Middle-earth that the alliance between elves and men is so powerful and so deep that it has been sealed with an unbreakable marriage vow” Halbrand lowered his voice “In this way, we will turn weakness into a show of strength that will freeze the blood in your enemies' veins. And I... will be your debtor for the rest of my days”
A barely visible smile appeared on the King's face, which had been tense with anger until then. He saw an opportunity for something completely different. But before he could say anything, Galadriel finally broke her silence.
“Enough!”
She pulled her hand out of Halbrand's grasp, her eyes, until now full of shame and pain, now burning with pure rage. She looked first at Gil-galad, then at the man.
“I hear you and I cannot believe my ears” she trembled with anger “You, my King, speak of my honour and disgrace as if they were possessions you can manage. But these are not mere elements of your political strategy. And you... You speak of strength and destiny. You want to wash away the shadow from my reputation, as if you had any right to give my life purpose”
“Galadriel, I am only a man who has lived too long in darkness and desired light too greedily...” Halbrand said with suppressed despair, and for the first time she saw the truth in his eyes.
“No! You have both forgotten who you are talking to. I am neither a pawn in your game, King, nor a prize in yours, Halbrand. I am not a problem to be solved, nor a wild force to be tamed! My honour belongs to me alone. As does my fate... And no man or elf will decide for me!”
Halbrand stared at her with a mixture of shock and fascination. Gil-galad, after a moment of astonishment, regained his royal composure, but it was clear that her words had changed everything. He watched her, proud, unyielding, standing shoulder to shoulder with a man who was her mirror image in his audacity. He understood that her indomitable nature, which he had always considered her greatest flaw, would never disappear. Galadriel would always question his authority, follow her own paths and sow chaos in his orderly world.
His eyes shifted to Halbrand. To this ambitious and dangerously intelligent mortal who wanted to rule the people of the South, which was very far from Lindon and Eregion.
He realised that he had finally found a solution. He could bring these two unbridled and chaotic forces together, far from his kingdom. Galadriel would get the war she so desired and a purpose that would consume her. And Halbrand would get the power he dreamed of and a queen who would keep him in check.
“You are right, Galadriel. This is too important a decision for me to impose anything on you” he said without a trace of emotion.
Galadriel blinked, taken aback. She had expected further struggle, not acceptance.
“What?” she blurted out.
“You said you decide your own fate. Very well...” he continued, unperturbed “Then prove that your decision will be dictated by wisdom, not a momentary impulse. You can reject this alliance and ridicule the man who knelt before you. You can destroy Celebrimbor's work and the hope it brings. You can publicly undermine my authority. It is your right and your decision”
Galadriel opened her mouth, ready to protest, but the King raised his hand and his voice cut off her doubts.
“Or... you can accept this proposal. You can turn this scandal into the strength that Halbrand spoke of and give the South a rightful king. Then, for once, you would sacrifice your pride for the good of Middle-earth... I give you time until my departure from Eregion. Think it over, and then come to me with your answer. I trust that, for once, you will make the right choice”
Gil-galad watched her closely, and there was no longer any pleading in his eyes. He had used her own words against her, and they had become her trap.
“Agreed” she said through clenched teeth “I will answer when I am ready”
Those she trusted most had betrayed her. She looked at Gil-galad and saw not a king, but a politician who had unscrupulously used her heart as a tool to solve his problem. Then her gaze fell on Halbrand. He stood silently, and she understood that he had led her to this place.
She realised that if she stayed in this place for even a second longer, she would suffocate with shame and rage. Everything had been mercilessly taken from her, except for one last thing. Her dignity. She straightened up, and her figure seemed taller than ever. She lifted her chin high, and her face turned into a mask of ice that revealed nothing of the storm raging inside her. She turned and walked past Halbrand. She did not run away. She simply chose her own path, as she always did.
She walked through the moonlit corridors, but she no longer felt pride. Her departure from the forge, which was supposed to be an act of dignity, now seemed like an empty gesture. When she closed the chamber door behind her, the silence brought her no relief.
She leaned against the cold wall, and her mind began to connect the facts and analyse every gesture and every sentence. And the deeper she looked, the more ominous the picture emerged from the darkness. It was a game, and she was just a pawn in it.
Was it possible that he had had this plan from the beginning? That bold kiss on her hand at the feast. Was it really a spontaneous gesture, or was it just a provocation designed to cause a scandal, force Gil-galad to react, and create a problem for which he, Halbrand, already had a solution?
And before that? Back then, in the stable, when she begged him to stay, did he see his chance? Was her kiss confirmation that she belonged to him? Or did it all start on the raft or in Númenor?
She had fallen into a terrifying web, carefully woven over months. She realised that from the very beginning, she might have been his real target. Not the kingdom, nor the ring, but her. Her name, her power and her light, which he, a man so clearly marked by darkness, seemed to desire more than anything else.
At the same time, despite herself, another, much more terrible thought began to germinate in her mind. The vision of him becoming her husband. She touched her lips unconsciously, because she could still almost feel his touch on them. She remembered the strength of his arms, the warmth of his body pressed against her back in the forge, and his low, vibrating whisper close to her ear. These memories were treacherous and unwanted, yet so powerful.
What would it be like to be his wife? To wake up in the morning and see his face on the pillow next to her. To feel the weight of his arm around her waist. To share with him both the battlefield and the passions of the night. It would be the end of eternal loneliness. She would have someone by her side who looked at her fire not with fear, but with desire. Someone who understood her darkness because he carried a similar darkness within himself. Together, they would rule the South. They would create a kingdom so powerful that it would become a true shield against Adar. He would be her king, and she... his queen.
This image was so simple and so powerful that she discovered with horror that the vision of being trapped in this marriage had become disturbingly tempting. This realisation terrified her, because it meant that she was fighting with herself. With that part of her soul that was willing to pay any price for the promise of closeness.
And that fear sobered her and forced her to cast aside her treacherous fantasies and look at the situation as centuries of struggle had taught her to. Who was this man who could awaken such desires in her? Someone who had deprived her of any real choice. And the worst thing was that, in moments of weakness, she willingly gave him power over her.
She allowed anger to take control of her again, and with it came a decision. She was tired of uncertainty and his lies. She decided she would find out the truth. Even if that truth would destroy her. She pushed aside her emotions, feelings and memories of his touch. She began to look for the first doubts. And she found them.
She remembered the scroll and that moment in the garden when she stood before him with the evidence in her hand. She remembered the shock on his face. And then he skilfully turned her truth against her and accused her of wanting him to be king so much that she forced him into it. And she... she let him do that.
She believed that he was a man from the South who had appropriated the coat of arms. But would a simple blacksmith know the secrets of his craft so well as to inspire admiration in Celebrimbor himself? Halbrand knew how to shape not only metal, but also hearts. These were not the traits of a mortal.
If he was not a king... nor a simple man...
Then who, by the Valar, was Halbrand?
Chapter 7
Notes:
Galadriel longs to uncover the truth about Halbrand at any cost, but instead of answers she finds only her own long-buried desires... 😜
Sorry for any mistakes - English is not my native language.
Chapter Text
Galadriel was no longer lying in bed when the first rays of sunlight appeared in the chamber. She stood by the window, looking out at Eregion as it awoke to life. She understood the heft and solemnity of Gil-galad’s ultimatum, yet it was not what preoccupied her mind.
The real problem lay elsewhere. She did not know what to do. She was trapped in a web of lies and her own treacherous feelings. How could she discover Halbrand's true identity in such chaos?
Unfortunately, her anger was useless, and her feelings had become a trap. She should stop feeling and start thinking. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She forced herself to push away the vision of his beautiful face. She needed to become a commander again, one who trusted only facts, not words. She knew she had to find something tangible, and then, in that chaos of thought, a simple idea appeared. It was so obvious that she was surprised she hadn't thought of it before.
She had met Halbrand in the middle of the sea, but no one can completely cover their tracks. There is always some small detail left behind. The only place in all of Eregion where there could be any trace of his true past was his chamber. She had to go there and search through his belongings to find anything that could help her figure out who he really was. It was risky, but she had no other choice.
She washed the remnants of fatigue from her face with cool water and left her hair loose. She waited until everyone was busy with their morning chores, then left the chamber, trying not to attract attention. On the way, she met a maid, and it seemed to her that the elf was looking at her suspiciously.
Finally, she stopped in front of the door to his chamber. She stood motionless for a moment, as if she didn't have the courage to take the decisive step. She tentatively reached for the door handle and then heard a quiet sound. Halbrand was inside... She pressed her back against the wall next to the door. She wanted so badly to go in there and tear off all his masks, but she knew that if she did, she would succumb to him again.
Galadriel squeezed her eyelids shut and forced herself back from the door. She walked away quickly, feeling regret growing with every step. She returned to her chamber, closed the door, and hid her face in her hands. For a moment, she thought it was over, but what she felt was too powerful. She could no longer run away from the truth. She decided to try again in the early evening, before Halbrand returned from the forge.
She tried to occupy her mind with other things throughout the day, but with each passing hour, her anxiety grew. She could no longer bear the idleness, so she left her chamber. She had no destination in mind. She simply walked forward and accidentally found herself in a gallery whose walls were covered from floor to ceiling with enormous tapestries.
Each was a masterpiece telling stories of battles, heroes and fallen kingdoms. She was about to leave the chamber when, on one of the tapestries, she noticed Lúthien Tinúviel dancing before Morgoth’s throne, seeking to lull him with her magical song. Not far from Lúthien was Beren, hidden in the skin of the werewolf Draugluin. She admired this image of impossible love, and a grief tightened her throat. Their story had become a legend because it was true.
Unexpectedly, Beren's figure began to take on the features of Halbrand. He too was a mortal, bold enough to reach toward what lay outside his grasp. He also spoke of the force that drew them together, and without paying attention to anything else, he knelt before her, giving her homage. For a moment, Galadriel allowed herself to wonder if their story, born of chaos and struggle, could become something more. Sadly, this thought was only a poisonous illusion, which she immediately suppressed with all her strength. Beren was a hero with an honest heart who fought to prove his worth. Halbrand was a manipulator, and his heart was shrouded in darkness. They were so different from each other and yet so similar.
“A beautiful but tragic story, isn't it?” she heard behind her the calm voice of Lord Minuvar, one of Gil-galad’s most trusted counsellors “A tale of how great love can compel the greatest sacrifices, but also about the price that must be paid for it. It must be very close to your heart, my lady”
The elf stood a few steps behind her, his hands clasped behind his back, also staring at the tapestry.
“I don't know what you're talking about, my lord” she replied coolly.
“But you do know” he smiled unpleasantly “I am talking about the decision that the High King has placed on your shoulders. It is a great burden, but also an honour. All of Eregion is eagerly awaiting your answer”
“The High King will be the first to know my decision” she said in a tone that left no room for further questions.
“Of course, my lady. Forgive my boldness” he bowed “I would not dare intrude upon your musings any longer. However, allow me to escort you to your chamber. The King would be inconsolable if anything disturbed your peace before you made such an important decision...”
His proposal was polite, but in reality it sounded like an order. Galadriel glanced one last time at the tapestry, then at Minuvar. She realised she had nowhere to run. Even among the heroes of the past, the present had found her.
Finally, evening came and it was time to act. After making sure the corridor was empty, she slipped silently out of her chamber. Every distant sound and gust of wind made her wary, because after talking to Minuvar, she felt as if she were being watched.
At last she stood before Halbrand’s chamber door, and for a long moment she listened to be sure no one was inside. This time, there were no sounds. She hoped he was working in the forge with Celebrimbor, because that might be her only chance.
She carefully pressed the handle, and the door opened without a problem. On the table lay perfectly arranged sketches and a few small tools. Galadriel began to look through them, but there was nothing suspicious about them, although they showed his mastery.
When she finished looking through the things on the table, she noticed his small travel bag. She picked it up and opened it with trembling fingers. She found only simple clothes and a whetstone for sharpening knives. There were no letters or mementos. Nothing that could reveal who he was. She felt increasingly frustrated and helpless.
She was so focused on her search that she didn't hear his footsteps, so she was completely surprised by the sound of the door opening. She froze, and her hand was still in his bag. She looked up and saw him standing in the doorway. Halbrand was returning from the forge, as he was covered in soot and the smell of smoke clinging to his clothes. Without a word, he closed the door behind him. They stared at each other for a moment. His gaze was calm, almost curious, which was much worse than the indignation she had prepared herself for.
“Galadriel... What are you doing here?” he immediately noticed her hand, which was still in his travel bag “And why are you searching through my things?”
She quickly withdrew her hand, because he had caught her like a common thief.
“I... I was looking for...” she fell silent, realising that any excuse would sound absurd now.
He did not wait for her answer and moved towards her. There was an unsettling ease in his movements, which revealed that he had been waiting for this moment for a long time. Galadriel did not move away, and her eyes burned not only with anger but also with fear, which was becoming increasingly difficult for her to hide. For a moment, they watched each other like two predators preparing to attack.
“You didn't find what you were looking for, did you?” he moved even closer to her and leaned slightly until she felt his warm breath on her face “Maybe that's because you were looking in the wrong place...”
She was unable to move, and his gaze became even more intense.
“Do you want to know all my secrets, Galadriel? Do you want to find out who I really am? Then stop rummaging through my things...” he paused, and a hint of a provocative smile appeared on his lips “And search me...”
His bold proposal hung in the air, and she looked at him with a mixture of shock and indignation.
“Don't be ridiculous...” she snapped, trying to regain what little dignity and control she had left “I didn't... that's not what I meant... Enough of these games, Halbrand!”
“I'm not playing games” he replied, a dangerous glint appearing in his eyes “You're the one who keeps running from the truth. You say you seek it, but when it stands before you, you look away. So I ask again. Do you want to search me?”
“No!” she denied too vehemently.
Halbrand smiled with dark tenderness, then grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it over his head. He stood before her half-naked. Moonlight fell through the window, glinting across his sculpted chest and wide shoulders. His chest was covered with dark, curly hair and a few small scars. Galadriel held her breath. The sight was so captivating and shockingly intimate that she felt the blood rush to her head.
Before she could react, Halbrand took her right hand. His grip was gentle but firm. He lifted her hand and placed it flat on the centre of his chest. His skin was so hot that she felt as if she were touching fire. She did not pull away, even though deep down she knew she was crossing a line of no return. He leaned in, his lips close to her ear.
“Begin, my lady” he whispered “Search, Galadriel, and... we shall see what you find”
His chest rose and fell steadily, and under the touch of her hand, his muscles tensed and trembled. Her fingers slowly moved along his sternum, exploring his skin as if she wanted to find answers to the question of who this man really was, who dared to challenge her in this way.
Halbrand stood calmly, watching her and allowing her this illusion of control. Galadriel was as if hypnotised, no longer sure whether she was searching for the truth or something far more dangerous.
“Interesting...” he murmured and took her hand even tighter, pressing it against his heart “What would your King say if he walked in here now and saw you touching a naked man's body so shamelessly?”
With terrifying clarity, Galadriel realised what she had allowed him to do.
“No...” she blurted out and pulled her hand back violently “I have to go!”
She turned to rush towards the door, but he was faster. With a decisive movement, he blocked her way, standing between her and the exit.
“It's too late to run away” he said, his voice now devoid of any gentleness “My question about Gil-galad was hypothetical. But I have another, much more real one... Did anyone see you walking here?”
“No” she replied too quickly, but deep down she knew that someone might have seen her.
Halbrand smiled as if he could read her mind.
"Are you sure? All it takes is one guard or servant to have seen you, and Gil-galad will know about it tomorrow.‘ He approached her, and she had nowhere to run, trapped between the wall and his body. ’Do you know what that will mean, Galadriel? That you have already made your decision about our marriage and... chosen me"
He watched as understanding, then despair, painted her face.
“I haven't made any decision!” she protested weakly.
“Have you?” his voice became almost tender “Because I think that the Queen of the South has just chosen her own fate...”
Galadriel knew Halbrand was right. But before she could say a word, he closed the distance between them in one moment. His hands grabbed her shoulders and his body pressed against hers, pinning her to the cold stone wall. And then his lips found hers with surprising sensuality and brutality. He did not ask or seduce, but kissed her with the hunger of a creature that had finally caught its prey after a long chase. She burned inside, riven between her reason and the treacherous longing that consumed her.
“Stop...” she whispered when their lips parted for a moment, but there was more pleading than command in her voice.
Halbrand did not pull back, but kissed her even harder. She remembered his touch and craved his strength. Under the pressure of his lips, under the caress of his tongue, which invaded her mouth without asking, her entire will melted like wax in fire. She tried to fight back, but instead of pushing him away, her hands began to move over his warm skin. She was completely defeated.
His hand, which had been resting on her shoulder, moved up, tangling in her hair, while his other hand slid down her back. He pressed her hips against his so tightly that she could feel how aroused he was. Suddenly, Halbrand broke their kiss, his eyes burning with the same fire that drove her mad.
“Is that what you're afraid of?” he whispered “That we would be lost, together, in the fire of passion?”
She was unable to answer him. Only a quiet sigh escaped her lips, and her hands wandered to his neck. This time, she kissed him. In that one moment, she was ready to sign any sentence for the Middle Earth, just to taste once more the fire that only he could ignite in her.
Their kiss grew deeper and hungrier, impossible to satisfy. Halbrand, without breaking their closeness, pulled back just enough to look at her. His breath was heavy, his smile dangerously confident.
“When I'm with you...” he began, leading her towards the bed “I see in you everything I've ever wanted. The power I struggled for. The might I had never tasted. And you… unassailable, unbending, and yet… completely mine”
Her anger and rage imperceptibly turned into a mad desire. Every touch and word of his deepened her submission. She tried to resist, but it was like fighting a wave that had already engulfed her.
Halbrand saw the glimmer of despair on her face, which was no longer a struggle but an act of surrender. He cupped her face with both hands, looking straight into her eyes with the same obsessive determination.
“You are my ruin, Galadriel” he said softly “and my salvation. I will never let you go again”
His lips found hers, but this time not violently, but tenderly. He deliberately delayed, because he wanted her to remember this moment. She tried to pull away one last time, because she felt her body trembling with the excess of feelings.
“Don't fight anymore. I don't want to take anything from you, Galadriel. I want to give you something and show you a truth you have no idea exists. The truth about your body. There is a fire in it that you have suppressed for years in the name of duty and struggle, and tonight... I will let it burn”
“Halbrand, we...”
He sat her on the edge of the bed and knelt before her, so that their faces were almost level.
“You will feel no pain, no shame. I will give you only... freedom. And once you have tasted it, you will never be satisfied with life in a cage again”
His words, promising liberation rather than possession, completely disarmed her. She looked at him, unable to move, as his hands rested on her shoulders and he gently pushed her back. She sank onto the bed, while he still knelt before her, now looming over her recumbent form. He watched her for a moment, then his hands moved lower and found the hem of her dress. This gesture snapped her out of her trance.
“Halbrand, no...” she whispered in terror and tried to stop him “Please... we can't...”
She began to fight him, but her resistance was weak. He stopped and did not use force. He simply raised his head and looked at her, and his gaze was full of gentle understanding.
“Don't be afraid. I know you want this too. Stop pretending you're made of stone” his hand pushed away hers, which was trying to stop him “Tonight, I will only worship you”
She didn't understand what was happening. These words, so incongruous with this dangerous man, completely threw her off balance. She looked at him in confusion, and he smiled when he saw it. Galadriel stopped fighting, and her hands fell limply onto the bedsheets. Her heart was beating wildly as his hands carefully lifted the fabric of her dress, exposing her legs and thighs.
Halbrand didn't say a word. He placed his warm hand on her thigh and began tracing lazy circles with his thumb just above the line of her underwear.
“I've waited so long for this...” he whispered, his voice full of possessive delight.
Before she could respond, Halbrand leaned down and touched her inner thigh with his lips. His breath was hot, and each kiss was sensual and slow. Caress after caress, inch by inch, he moved closer and closer to her pussy. He took his time because he wanted Galadriel to feel every touch of his lips. She tried to turn her head away to hide her shame, but he held her hips, not allowing her to move away.
“Look at me” he murmured “You won't give anyone else what you give me today”
She hesitated, but obeyed him, looking up. There was no pity in his eyes, only a cruel desire to possess her, which seemed to suck the last remnants of resistance out of her. His fingers reached for her underwear and, without hurrying, he slid it down her hips, leaving her naked and at his mercy. For a moment, he admired her pussy.
“You're perfect” he said “I wonder... how you'll taste”
Galadriel wanted to instinctively close her legs, or even push him away, but the strength of his hands and his earlier caresses made her feel increasingly powerless.
His hands moved closer to her pussy, and his fingers carefully parted her delicate lips. He drew out that moment, delighting in the dark pleasure of her defeat. He slid one finger into her wet pussy, moving it slowly and exploring her insides with fascination. At the same time, his thumb massaged her clitoris, making small circles that made her tremble. Her breathing became irregular and her hands clenched the bedsheets, desperately trying to grasp something that was beyond her reach. His touch was like fire that ignited her insides, making her more and more vulnerable and desirable.
When he saw how she reacted to his touch, Halbrand added a second finger, then a third, stretching her mercilessly and filling her. His movements were rhythmic, and she felt her muscles grip his fingers, hungry to consume him. His thumb did not relent, caressing her faster and harder, and her clitoris throbbed, begging for more. Her mind screamed to resist him, but her body had other plans. She tried to move, but he held her tight, not allowing her to escape.
Just when she thought she couldn't take any more, Halbrand stopped, leaving her on the edge of ecstasy. He glanced at her, his pupils darkened with lust and primal hunger. She tried to say something to him, but then something unexpected happened. His lips replaced his hands, and the tip of his tongue lightly brushed her clitoris, then withdrew. Her eyes widened under the surge of sudden ecstasy. His tongue traced her with care, deliberately avoiding her clit. At the moment his tongue found her clit once more, Galadriel cried out, and he drew her clit into his mouth with tender suction, his teeth teasing it lightly until she burned with pleasure.
Low, strangled noises started to escape her lips, unlike any she had ever given voice to. Moans of pure, untainted pleasure, whose existence within herself she had never suspected.
Halbrand sometimes paused his caresses for a moment because he wanted to see how much she desired him and how much she hated herself for that desire. He was not only her lover, but also the winner and conqueror, who at that very moment was bending her body and soul to his will.
His tongue was everywhere, his lips greedily devouring her, and his fingers found their way inside her again. Her cunt throbbed with pleasure, wet and hot, as if begging for more, but he controlled the pace, and each of his movements broke down another layer of her shame. Galadriel was a source of light and taste for him, one he intended to possess and keep forever.
“You don't even know how sweet you are...” he whispered, and before she could protest, his lips sank into her again and his tongue began to caress her shamelessly.
She tried to defend herself and her hands grabbed his hair, but he was ruthless because he wanted to suck all the pleasure out of her.
“Please...” she moaned silently, not knowing herself whether she was asking for mercy or for even more.
“Yes, just like that... Give me everything!”
When she was stretched to her limits, his movements became even faster and more dynamic. He sucked her clitoris harder and hurried his tongue until a powerful spasm ran through Galadriel's body. Her pussy tightened around his fingers and her clitoris pulsed under his tongue. The world exploded in a blinding flash of white light, and a long, stifled scream that was no longer her voice escaped her lips. It was the cry of a being who, for the first time in her immortal existence, had completely lost control. Her body was shaken by waves of pleasure, and he did not stop, because his mouth and tongue continued to work, extending her pleasure.
Finally, Halbrand stopped and raised his head, and his fingers slid out of her, leaving her satisfied. His lips were wet with her juices, and his eyes glistened with desire. He savoured his victory, for he knew that she had given herself to him completely, broken and deliciously defenceless.
Galadriel was still trembling from her orgasm, but her senses were beginning to sharpen, and the truth of what had happened hit her with brutal force. She tried to hold back tears of rage and shame, fighting for breath. Meanwhile, Halbrand slowly rose from his knees with a barely perceptible smile. She lifted herself up on her elbows and covered herself with her dress. Her gaze was angry, her cheeks burning.
“How dare you...” she began indignantly “That was... shameful, Halbrand!”
Before she could finish, he snorted a quiet laugh that sounded more like a murmur of satisfaction than amusement. He sat down next to her on the bed, reaching for her hand, the same one she had just clenched on the bedsheets in pleasure.
“Shameful?” he repeated, savouring the word “If only you could see yourself now, Galadriel... You are infinitely beautiful in your anger. You have never been so... real”
He gently cupped her chin, not allowing her to turn her face away. His stare burned with boldness and a challenge she could not refuse.
“Would you like to punish me now? Or perhaps just pretend that what happened was not your choice?” he added with predatory gentleness.
“You crossed every line...” there was no longer any certainty in her voice “This should never have happened”
Halbrand leaned even closer until his hair brushed her cheek.
“And yet you didn't stop me, did you?” he whispered, his voice tinged with triumph.
He kissed her lightly, and she felt herself melt into his touch, even though she wanted to push him away.
“Do you know what was the most shameless thing?” he asked, brushing his lips against her neck. “That you let me do all this. And I'm not going to make it easy for you, or forget about it”
“That's not true!” she tried to deny.
“You can be angry with me, but it won't save you. Not now that I know how you taste and have seen how pleasure consumes you”
Galadriel tried to turn her head away, but Halbrand stopped her.
“Stop fighting, Galadriel, this is a war you cannot win”
He left her with these words and got up from the bed, then bent down and reached for a piece of thin fabric lying on the floor. He took her lingerie between his fingers, holding it like a valuable prize newly won.
Galadriel realised what he was doing and rose from the bed with abrupt force. She reached out to take her property, but Halbrand only moved slightly away, still watching her.
“Not so fast, dearest” he said quietly, with the same overwhelming confidence “I’ll keep them, in case you... forget who you belonged to that night. Or had problems making the right decision about your future”
His words sounded like a sentence, and Galadriel realised that it was not a shared moment of forgetfulness, but that he had won her as a trophy. He had not only taken her body, but also her honour and her future.
“Give it back!” she growled.
Halbrand looked at her with the same predatory delight and hid her underwear in his trouser pocket, never taking his eyes off her.
Then something inside Galadriel broke. She hurled herself at him with a wild cry. It was not the attack of a warrior, but the fury of a creature caught in a trap. Her fists struck his naked chest with a force that could have broken a mortal's ribs, but Halbrand simply let her do it. He took her blows with a calmness that was more offensive than any resistance.
Suddenly, he grabbed her wrists and, with surprising dexterity, pushed her back onto the bed. She fell onto the soft bedding, and in one moment he was on top of her, pinning her down with his weight and holding both her hands above her head.
She was helpless, yet she still fought, but her strength as an elven warrior was nothing against his superiority. When she finally stopped struggling, panting heavily from the effort and anger, she looked up at him, ready to see triumph in his eyes. But Halbrand looked at her with delight, and a smile full of admiration played on his lips.
“Don't you think I deserve at least that?” he murmured sensually.
“Do you think you can treat me like a thing? Like a prize?” her voice broke “Everything that happened today... you did it to humiliate me and prove that you have power over me!”
“Oh, Galadriel... do you really believe that I want power over you?” he said gently “You don't like how I take control away from you, do you? Or maybe that's what you're looking for?”
She clenched her teeth, struggling to hold back her tears and another wave of anger. His hands slowly slid down her wrists to her palms, intertwining with her fingers.
“Enough...” she muttered.
“When will you finally understand that you don't want me to stop? Galadriel... I am not your enemy. Stop treating me like one... unless that's what you really want...”
She was now at the mercy of a man who knew her soul better than she knew it herself. Her fury faded, replaced by a paralysing fear born of one final question.
“Who are you?” she whispered in a trembling voice.
His grip loosened, but he still held her immobile beneath him.
“I am what you made me” he said quietly, his voice devoid of any emotion “I am the shadow you forced to stand in the light”
“No more half-truths!”
She gathered the last of her strength and pushed him away, forcing him to finally let her go. She sat up on the bed, and her gaze was hard and merciless.
“What happened between us... here, in this bed... changes everything. I no longer care what the elves think of me. I gave you my honour... and that is why I have the right to know the truth. No matter how terrible it is”
Her words, so clear and final, seemed to strike a nerve. His face contorted in pain. He pulled away from her abruptly, getting up from the bed as if he couldn't bear her closeness. He turned his back to her and ran his hand nervously through his hair, and a stifled, anguished sound escaped from his throat.
“No...” he whispered “Don't ask me to do this, Galadriel. I beg you!”
“I need to know” she insisted, even though what she saw sowed fear in her heart.
“You don't want to know the truth!” he cried, turning around for a moment, his eyes wild and full of despair “It will destroy you. It will destroy us. It will destroy everything we are trying to build!”
Galadriel could not remain indifferent to his suffering and was terrified by it. The truth must be worse than anything she could imagine.
“I am not the hero you tried to see in me” he paused, gathering his strength “I am a liar, a murderer and a traitor. I have done things I cannot undo. I served darkness, Galadriel. I betrayed allies, I killed for the cause I was given. I lost everything that mattered... my family, my friends, my own name. I gave myself to the darkness because I thought it was necessary to save those I loved. And when they were gone... I could no longer return to the light”
“Halbrand...” Galadriel rose from the bed.
“Do not ask me any more about who I was. I do not deserve even the name I carry. I deserve only your contempt”
His story was so tragic and fit perfectly with all the pieces of the puzzle. Halbrand was a fallen man who had sacrificed his own soul for love. Galadriel stood in silence, with her heart breaking. She was shaken by his words, by the enormity of his suffering and sacrifice. All her anger and suspicion vanished. They were replaced by a wave of overwhelming compassion.
The man did not look up, waiting for her final condemnation. But she had only understanding and forgiveness in her. She slowly approached him and stood right in front of him, while he continued to stare at the floor. Carefully, she lifted his face and saw his despair. And then, without saying a word, she hugged him. His body was tense in her arms, and after a moment he began to pull away from her.
“No, Galadriel... you shouldn't” he whispered, his voice full of authentic shame “Now that you know the truth about the monster I was, you must abandon me. Let me go. It will be best that way”
He tried to break free, but her embrace grew stronger and she would not let him. She forced him to look at her, and on her face, alongside compassion, he saw an expression of new, unyielding strength. She did not know if she would ever be able to trust him, but she was certain that he was not her enemy.
“If you did this out of love... if you were trying to save those you loved...” her voice was full of tenderness “Then I can't hate you, Halbrand. Maybe... I should, but I can't”
Before he could protest, she pulled him towards her and kissed him. It was a kiss unlike any other. There was no struggle, no desire. It was absolute, unconditional forgiveness. When she finally pulled her lips away from his, he looked at her with eyes full of tears.
“I'm not worthy of this...” he said despairingly “After all that... I don't deserve it”
With these words, he hugged her, burying his face in her hair, and his body was shaken by a spasm, which she took for a sob of relief and pain. She stroked his back, and a sense of strength and purpose grew in her heart. She had managed to save him from himself.
She held him like that for a long moment, unaware that on his face, hidden from her sight, there slowly formed the triumphant smile of one who, with a perfectly tailored lie, had gained all he desired. Galadriel had given him all of herself, and in that moment she lost the greatest battle of her life.
Chapter 8
Notes:
For the first time, we learn what lies behind Halbrand's mask.
What happens when a predator who was confident in his control suddenly begins to fear that he himself may become a victim... of his own unrecognised feelings?Sorry for any mistakes - English is not my native language.
Chapter Text
Galadriel awoke completely confused. She was not in her chamber nor in her bed. What's more, she felt Halbrand's body pressed so tightly against hers that she couldn't recognise where his skin ended and hers began. For a moment, she couldn't think of anything else but how wonderful it was to be in his arms. She desired this man, even though he was still a mystery to her.
She slowly turned to stare at him. Halbrand was asleep and looked almost innocent. Long, dark lashes cast shadows on his cheeks, and the lips that had kissed her so brutally and passionately just a few hours ago were now slightly parted in peaceful sleep. She looked at him and was overcome by a wave of unexpected tenderness.
Her breathing quickened unexpectedly as she glanced at his broad chest covered with dark hair. There was something about this sight that aroused her curiosity and fear. If only she could touch his soul the way she touched his body. Maybe then she would understand who he really was.
Yet even in this state of complete vulnerability, Halbrand exuded extraordinary strength. Her compassion and desire once again clashed with her doubts. Was his story really true? Could a mortal carry such power within him and awaken such feelings and lust in her at the same time?
With that thought, her fear returned. She realised that she was in his bed, in a crumpled dress and without her underwear, which he had taken and kept as a trophy. If someone came in now and saw them, she would ultimately lose her honour and what little trust she had left. She moved cautiously, trying to free herself from his embrace, and then his eyes opened, fully conscious and watchful, as if he had not been asleep at all.
Halbrand hadn't planned it, but when he realised Galadriel was trying to escape, a primal anxiety awoke in him. Could it be that the bit of truth he had so carefully hidden in his lies was too repulsive for her? He had won her body, but perhaps he had scared her away and lost her. Suddenly, he realised that he, who had shaped the fate of Middle-earth, was trembling at the thought of losing one being. He had to regain control immediately. Over her and, above all, over himself.
“So it's true” he let her go, allowing her to sit up, but his gaze was full of pain and anxiety “I knew this would happen...”
“Halbrand, I...” she began.
“You're running away” he said “Now when the light of day has dispelled the darkness, you see the monster I am and you loathe my touch. I should have kept silent, but you... you forced me to bare my soul to you, and now... you turn away from me”
“No, that's not it! I just have to return to my chamber before anyone notices my absence” she replied gently “What you told me did not make me feel disgusted with you. On the contrary, but... I have a feeling there is something else. Something you are not telling me. Even so, I will wait until you are ready to tell me”
“Galadriel... I... sometimes I think...” he whispered, turning onto his back and staring at the ceiling “...that I should not have accepted this ring. I am not worthy to wear something that was created with such sacrifice. Someone like me should not wear a symbol of light and hope. Today I will go to Gil-galad and return it to him”
“No!” she cried with a force that surprised him and caught his hand, stopping him from taking off the ring “You will not do that!”
“But I must...”
“Don't you understand? Fate, the Valar, or whatever force controls it, gave you this ring not because you are worthy of it. It gave it to you because you need it to fight the darkness, and I... I trust you. This is not a reward, Halbrand. It is your destiny and your chance to redeem all your past sins. Don't you dare reject it”
Halbrand was silent, and an almost imperceptible smile appeared on his lips. He was a master at playing the role of a victim in need of forgiveness, because it always put him at the centre of her attention, fuelled her compassion and her need to save him.
“I don't know if I can be who you see in me, Galadriel. But I'll try... for you” he said quietly.
She trembled, and in that single moment forgot all her suspicions and lies. She still wanted to believe that she was his chance and he was her salvation from loneliness. She stood up, sighed quietly, and then slipped out of his chamber, not knowing if she would ever find the strength to truly leave him.
Galadriel entered her chamber, hoping for a moment of respite, but Elrond stood upright by the window with his hands clasped behind his back. He had the look of someone who had waited far too long to keep his composure. He stared at her empty, untouched bed and only turned abruptly at the sound of the door opening.
“Galadriel, you're finally back... I've been looking for you since dawn because I wanted to apologise and talk to you” he said, almost without reproach, but his tone betrayed how worried he was about her “The servants didn't know where you were, so I decided to wait for you here”
For a moment, she wondered how to respond.
“I needed some fresh air” she muttered, averting her gaze..
“Please don't do that. Don't lie to me...” Elrond looked at her with deep sadness “Where were you?”
She tried to think of something to say, but seeing the pain in his eyes, she knew she couldn't deceive him.
“You were with him, weren't you?” he asked in a trembling voice “Did you spend the night with Halbrand?”
Galadriel felt the shame rising within her, born of the knowledge that she had taken a path she herself could not comprehend.
“Yes” she whispered “I was with him, Elrond, and I don't regret it, even though I know how it looks”
For a moment, the elf did not react, but stood motionless.
“This... is not your first madness, Galadriel” he said at last, with the bitter tenderness that had always been between them “But I have never seen you so... lost”
“Perhaps that is what I have been missing all these years? The courage to truly lose myself. To not know everything best”
“Galadriel, please listen to me” Elrond began fearfully “I have seen Halbrand's skill and heard his wise words. But... do you know who he is? Do you know his true story? Do you know what he was doing all those years before you met on that raft?”
“I know the whole truth about Halbrand, and I accept it” she said without hesitation.
“You accept?!” the elf was on the verge of despair “I beg you, keep at least a shred of common sense. Don’t let your feelings, this... fascination, blind you!”
“Elrond, as you well know, I have made decisions throughout my life based on what my heart told me. I fought when reason told me to enjoy peace. I doubted when everyone around me trusted. And now it will be no different”
Her words, so full of a new, unfamiliar strength, made Elrond look at her with resignation.
“Very well... so be it” he sighed heavily, but he did not look convinced “There is one more thing. Gil-galad returns to Lindon tomorrow, and a farewell feast will be held tonight. Before it begins, the King wants to know what decision you have made. I confess I do not understand what he expects of you. What is this about?”
Galadriel knew that if she told him the truth about the marriage proposal and how her honour had become a bargaining chip, Elrond would drop everything to help her.
“It doesn't matter” she saw how these words hurt him, but she couldn't take them back “This is between me and the High King. I ask only one thing of you. Tell him that he will receive my decision before the feast”
Elrond stood silently for a moment, looking for even a trace of doubt in her.
“I will... But if you... need someone to be with you, you know where to find me”
With that, he turned and left, leaving Galadriel alone in the shadows of her decision. His first instinct was to go straight to Gil-galad, but he changed his mind and headed for the forge.
The room was plunged into semi-darkness, and the fire burned lazily in the furnace. Halbrand stood over the anvil, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, engrossed in repairing some small ornament. For a moment, Elrond observed him at his work, trying to collect his thoughts. He could no longer stand idly by and had to understand who he was really dealing with.
“Forgive me for disturbing you” he began quietly “but I wanted to ask you... have you seen Galadriel today?”
Halbrand did not even lift his head and remained focused on his work. His movements were almost careless.
“Oh, I've seen her...” he replied with a hint of amusement “I think she had a rather restless night”
Elrond tried his best to keep his nerves in check.
“I'm worried about her...”
“Really? Why? I have the feeling that, for the first time in a long while, she has found peace” Halbrand raised an eyebrow in a gesture of feigned surprise.
“Peace?” the elf almost snorted “What I see in her eyes is not peace. She hasn't been herself since you arrived”
Halbrand put down the ornament and walked slowly towards Elrond, his posture almost nonchalant.
“Perhaps you are simply seeing her for the first time as she really is”
“Do you think you know and understand her?” Elrond asked sharply.
“Well... Last night... we grew very close and talked for a long time. Galadriel opened up to me and told me about her pain”
His words were like poison. They suggested an intimacy that Elrond had just been deprived of.
“What are you talking about?” the elf felt his self-control cracking.
Halbrand looked at him with an expression of pitying understanding.
“This must be difficult for you. You were her closest friend for so many years, and now someone has come along who understands that part of her soul that you, in all your noble light, will never be able to comprehend. Her darkness... I wonder only one thing, is what you feel really concern for your friend? Or is it... jealousy?”
Such a bold accusation struck Elrond with full force. He froze in shock, but in the deepest recesses of his soul, Halbrand's words found fertile ground, sowing doubt.
“Don't you dare reduce my concern to such a low level” he replied angrily “I was her friend before you were even born! I see her suffering, and you are solely responsible for it. Gil-galad is waiting for her to make a decision, and I know it has something to do with you!”
Halbrand's face suddenly took on an expression of deep seriousness. He sighed heavily, like a man carrying too heavy a burden on his shoulders.
“So this is it… the decision… I thought she’d told you”
“Told me what?”
Halbrand looked up at him, his eyes full of pretended mercy.
“Elrond... the decision you speak of concerns us both” he paused briefly “Gil-galad wants Galadriel to decide whether she will accept my proposal and become my wife”
The anger on the elf's face gave way to shock, and his mouth opened, but no sound came out. What he heard seemed so absurd that his mind could not accept it.
“Wait...” Halbrand was increasingly surprised “You really didn't know anything? I was convinced that on such an important matter, she would have sought your advice as her most loyal friend. I don't understand why she would hide something like this from you”
In one moment, Elrond's shock turned into painful doubt. He did not understand why Galadriel had distanced herself from him. What else was she hiding from him? It seemed that the situation was much more serious than he had thought, and so he did something unexpected. He took a deep breath and let his courage speak, because he was not going to give up so easily.
“Perhaps you are right. Perhaps I no longer understand her, so explain it to me” he took a step towards Halbrand “How do you really feel about Galadriel? What do you want from her? Is she just a tool to strengthen your power? Are you going to use her and then abandon her when you no longer need her?”
Halbrand opened his mouth, and his face wore that familiar, indulgent smile, but unexpectedly, for the first time in a very long while, his mind, that perfect mechanism built of lies and strategy, faltered. Elrond's questions were so simple and sincere that they struck at something he himself did not want to name. What did he really feel for her? Admiration? Desire? Obsession? The need to possess the only being in this world who seemed to be his equal? He did not know the answers to these questions, and for a split second, doubt was visible on his face.
“You don't know, do you?” Elrond saw this and, for the first time, a note of triumph appeared in his voice “You've never asked yourself these questions. Perhaps because, for the first time, you've met someone who terrifies you because you can't control her. Someone you can't simply... conquer”
“I don't have to explain myself to you!” the man snapped.
“You do, if you don't want to hurt her. She... trusts you. For the first time in hundreds of years, she has let someone get this close. If you destroy her, there will be no turning back” the elf would not back down.
Halbrand fell silent, the muscles in his arms visibly tensing beneath his tunic. For a moment, he seemed absent, as if he were truly searching for the right words.
“Galadriel...” he began, his voice trembling for a second “Do you think you can understand what her light means to someone like me?”
“It's not the light” Elrond replied softly “It's simply her. You cannot treat her like a trophy you desire because she is distant and pure. She is alive, fragile... and she can save you”
Halbrand hesitated, but almost immediately, the same familiar grimace of contempt and superiority returned to his lips.
“What do you expect of me, Lord Elrond? Do you want me to confess that I am the monster you see in me? Or that I love your friend and am willing to burn Middle-earth for her?”
“I don't need grand declarations, Halbrand. The truth is enough for me”
“The truth is, I want Galadriel just as she is. Strong, defiant, and capable of challenging anyone... even me” he moved so close to Elrond that their chests were almost touching “But you only see her light and pride. And I... I know what Galadriel tastes like when she burns brightest”
He watched the elf's face pale with shock and understanding, then passed him and returned to his work, leaving him alone and defeated. Elrond said nothing more, but left, and the sound of the door closing behind him was the only sound that broke the thick silence.
Halbrand savoured the fact that he had won once again. He had used Elrond's noble concern to sow doubt in him. Everything was going according to plan. However, he suddenly realised that something had changed. He rested his hands on the table, allowing himself a moment of weakness, because this conversation with the elf had awakened something disturbing in him. The embers in the furnace had died down, and he stood motionless, staring into the fire, searching for answers to all his doubts.
One of the elf's questions still haunted him: “How do you really feel about Galadriel?”... Feelings, what a ridiculous and simplistic word. Feelings were for elves and mortals who lived and died, driven by chaotic impulses. He was above that. He was only interested in order and power.
And yet, when he thought of Galadriel, he couldn't put a name to it. What did he feel for her? He craved her. That was obvious. He desired her body, her strength, and above all, her light, but his desire for her... was like madness. It was like a flame that consumed him from within.
It was a pure, absolute and perfect obsession to possess her and subjugate her. Galadriel was the brightest light in Middle-earth and the most unyielding will he had ever encountered. He wanted to shape her, make her his queen and have her by his side so that together they could bring perfect order. Breaking her and making her his would be the ultimate proof of his power. It would be a work of art even more magnificent than the Silmarils.
He closed his eyelids and surrendered to the vision that had pursued him ever since he first saw her.
He saw her. Not in a beautiful dress or shining armour, but naked in the dim light of his chamber. Her pride, that unbearable, irritating gleam in her eyes, was extinguished. It was replaced by something else. Something much more intoxicating. Pure and unconditional submission.
He imagined her kneeling before him, her eyes, the same ones that had challenged him on the raft and in Númenor, now staring at him with a mixture of fear and adoration. Her hands, the ones that had wielded a sword, now trembled, unsure if they could touch him without permission.
In this fantasy, he was her absolute master. He could do anything he had long dreamed of with her. He could make her talk about all her fears, dreams, and weaknesses. He could caress her slowly, bringing her to the brink of madness, so that she would beg him for more. He could take her, brutally and quickly, to feel the last remnants of her pride finally break, or make love to her all night long, teaching her a pleasure so dark and addictive that she would never want anything else. He could mark her skin with kisses, bites, anything, just to leave his trace upon her.
In this vision, Galadriel belonged only to him. She was an instrument that only he could play. This vision was so powerful and real that he felt his body react to it. And then, the truth hit him painfully. This broken, submissive creature was no longer her. She was not the fire that fascinated him. She was only a dead echo of her former glory.
Did he really want her submission? Or did he... desire something much more difficult? Something he couldn't name? He wanted her to look at him with the same fire and rebellion... but for that fire to burn with desire instead of hatred. For Galadriel to want him. Of her own free will. For her to choose him, even knowing the whole truth.
The thought was so absurd and contrary to his nature that it terrified him. It was no longer a desire to possess. It was something else. Something much more complicated. That was what he feared most. He could subjugate her body, even force her loyalty, but he could not force her to truly be his. This suddenly made him weak and deadly dangerous, because he knew he would stop at nothing.
This new, terrifying realisation cast a shadow over all his recent actions. Had he gone too far? That kiss at the feast was meant to be a bold gesture that would bind their fates together, but suddenly he began to wonder if he had humiliated her too much. What if her wounded pride proved stronger than the desire he had ignited in her?
After all, he had planned everything so carefully, and each of his manipulations had hit the mark. Now, however, his master plan, which he had executed with ruthless precision, was slipping through his fingers. If Galadriel decided to reject his marriage proposal, he would lose both her and the future he had already begun to imagine.
He couldn't let that happen. Not now, when he had tasted her and seen how she lost herself in his touch. He had to go to her, look her straight in the face and find out how she felt before she made a decision that could take everything away from him.
He threw off his dirty apron, washed his face, and looked at his reflection in the water for a moment. He saw in it both a man and a beast ready to do anything to keep from losing what he had dreamed of.
He feared that if Galadriel made the decision alone, reason would prevail. He had to sow anxiety in her, confuse her desires with fear, so that she would stop trusting her own judgement and feel the fire of that night again. He clenched his fists, feeling a growing determination and that familiar darkness in which there was no place for defeat. He began to think feverishly about what he should do. Perhaps he should take advantage of the fact that Galadriel was a warrior and always went against the grain, just because someone tried to dissuade her. Pleased with himself, he smiled broadly.
He left the forge with quick steps and walked through the quiet corridors, paying no attention to the guards or the glances of the servants. He stopped only in front of the door to her chamber, raised his hand and knocked, knowing that for the first time in many years, his game was about something he himself did not understand.
Galadriel was brushing her hair when she heard a knock at the door. She stopped mid-motion when the door to her chamber opened without warning. For a moment, she thought it was Elrond, back to try once more to talk sense into her, but it was Halbrand. He of all people should not be here, not after what had happened that night. Her heart immediately began to race, but she did not let it show.
“Halbrand?” she did her best to make her voice sound indifferent.
He was silent for a moment, then closed the door behind him and crossed the chamber, stopping a few steps away from her.
“You have to give Gil-galad your answer today, don't you?” he asked, his tone tinged with a note of desperation that Galadriel had never heard from him before.
“Yes” she replied, straightening her back, ready to defend her decision “But I will make that decision myself”
“That is why I am here. To make it easier for you” he said with a strange, dark seriousness “Reject this proposal, Galadriel”
“What?” she could not believe what she had heard.
“Tell Gil-galad that you will never agree to be my wife. And... forget what happened that night. Forget me” his eyes burned with an intensity that seemed to contradict his every word.
“You want me to pretend nothing happened?” she hissed angrily “Do you think it's that simple? Or do you want to decide for me? My life and future are to be subordinated to your fear?”
“It'll be better this way! Don't you understand?” he replied passionately “I don't want to destroy you! I don't want to drag you down into my darkness! You are the light, and I... I am the shadow that feeds on it. You should hate me, not...”
“Not what?!” she shouted in despair “Not desire you?! Not feel that without you I am alone again in this cursed silence?! Is that what you mean?! Do you want me to finally say it out loud?!”
“It doesn't matter what I want! All that matters is what you choose”
“Why are you running away?” anger, regret and desire grew inside her, finding no way out.
“I'm not running away” he growled through clenched teeth “I'm trying to save you from yourself”
“I don't need your help!” she shouted.
Between them, something dangerous was sparking ever more intensely, something that promised both ecstasy and destruction. A stifled, guttural sound escaped from his throat, and Galadriel saw in him a being broken by the same force that was destroying her. It was a pure and primal hunger that had been unleashed.
Halbrand took a step forward, his lips curving into a smile that was neither warm nor friendly, but rather predatory, full of the promise of wild pleasure. Before she could react, he threw himself at her with a force that was as terrifying as it was exciting. His lips attacked hers mercilessly, and his tongue invaded her mouth with brutal certainty, demanding reciprocation. At first she tried to resist, but his touch was too strong and his lust too deep. They kissed with a fury that had nothing to do with tenderness. It was a clash of two lonely souls and two powerful desires that had finally found their outlet.
She felt as if he was everywhere. His breath caressed her cheek, and his rough, unshaven cheek rubbed against her skin. Galadriel, her eyes closed, gave herself completely to the moment, sensing her body's response to his every touch and gesture. She stopped thinking about the future and who might enter the chamber. There was only the heat spreading in waves beneath her skin and the unbridled passion that dictated the rhythm of their movements.
Halbrand kissed her differently than before, more boldly and greedily. There was no longer any cool calculation in his kisses, nor the apparent gentleness with which he used to deceive her. Their bodies fought and danced at the same time, tangled and searching for each other as if they were about to disappear.
The passion grew with every second until it was almost unbearable. They became one, a crazy whirlwind of fever and passion. One of his hands slid down her back, lifting her and pressing her hips against his so hard that she could feel how aroused he was. Finally, they fell to their knees, still kissing, and then he pushed her onto her back on the stone floor.
His hand slid under her dress, touching her bare skin. There was something animalistic and unrestrained about his movements. For a split second, Galadriel was paralysed with fear, but not of him, only of how much she wanted to surrender to him. Without thinking, she yanked at his tunic, tearing it open. The fabric gave way under her fingers, revealing his muscular torso. Her hands, guided by some strange instinct, began to move over his hard muscles.
“Galadriel...” he whispered between kisses “Tell me you want this...”
She did not answer. Her fingers tangled in his hair and she kissed him with a force that testified to her willingness to dominate and submit at the same time. She forgot who she was. She became desire, and he became the fire that would consume her to the very end. His lips were everywhere, gliding over her delicate skin, first touching her gently, then more and more shamelessly, sucking, biting and leaving marks. The chamber was filled with the sound of their sighs and the quiet moans that escaped from their throats.
Halbrand knew that if he didn't stop, he would take her here and now, on this cold floor, like an animal, without regard for anything or anyone. His hands, hot and impatient, squeezed her hips tightly. Galadriel gasped with pleasure, her body arching, demanding more.
And just as he looked at her with mad hunger and wanted to tear her dress apart, he stopped. She lay beneath him, her hair tousled, her lips swollen, her eyes full of lust and submission, and he realised what he was about to do. He had planned to seduce her, dominate her and make her dependent on him, but not like this. He wanted to make her his queen, not his lover. Meanwhile, he did it because he simply could not help himself. Because he needed her so much. This sudden loss of control over himself terrified him.
He pulled away from her violently, landing on his hands and knees a few feet away from her, breathing heavily as if he had just finished a deadly fight. Galadriel raised herself up on her elbows, completely confused, her body trembling with unfinished passion. Halbrand's eyes were wild and filled with something akin to fear. He looked at her not as prey, but as a fire that had gotten out of control and threatened to burn him as well.
“No...” he whispered, more to himself than to her “Not like this”
Without waiting for her reaction, he jumped to his feet and ran out, slamming the door behind him.
Galadriel lay motionless on the floor, still feeling the trace of his violent, frantic kisses on her lips. She gasped for air, trying to find her balance and understand what had happened. She had never been so defenseless, and in that very moment a shy, aching memory returned.
Celeborn. His presence had always been so calm and quiet, enveloping her like the shadow of trees. Suddenly, she felt as if her heart had broken into pieces, but then something new, wild and primal was born within her. She barely held back her tears. She tried to catch her breath and recall that love, safe, sacred, untainted by what had happened in this chamber.
She understood that it was not lust that had taken control of her body for a moment. It was something more. Something she could not name. Because the moment his tongue touched her lips and she tore his tunic, she knew that if he had not stopped this madness, she would have given herself to him completely, without limits or shame.
She was not afraid that she desired him as a lover. She was afraid that she wanted him as someone close to her. This man had come closer to her than anyone else since Celeborn. She was naked before him, not only in body but in soul. She fought desperately against this truth and tried to push it into the darkness along with the memory of Celeborn, but she realised she could no longer pretend. She dreamed of Halbrand, his attention, his words and his presence, and this desire came from a place that had previously belonged exclusively to her dead husband.
Galadriel stood up, unsteadily at first, leaning on the edge of the bed. She ran her hands over her face, rubbing her temples, trying to wipe away the traces of lust that still ruled her body.
She stood in front of the mirror and looked at her reflection. Her pupils were dilated, her hair tousled, and her cheeks flushed. She touched her lips, surprised by their softness, then nervously adjusted her dress. She clenched her hands and straightened up.
Finally, when she was ready, she left the chamber. She walked slowly and thought of Celeborn again, but this time the memory was not so painful. What she felt for Halbrand was completely different, so wild and untameable, yet completely hers. At the thought of him, for the first time in ages, fear gave way to a desire to throw herself into the unknown, even if it meant her own doom.
She entered the council chamber without knocking. Gil-galad sat at the table, surrounded by his advisors. His gaze showed something between relief and disappointment, which he made no attempt to hide. Galadriel held her head high, with her voice steady.
“High King, I am ready to give you my answer...”
Chapter 9
Notes:
Galadriel makes a choice that will alter more than just her destiny. But can a decision born of passion and deceit ever be true?
Sorry for any mistakes - English is not my native language.
Chapter Text
As always, the proud Gil-galad sat at the table, surrounded by his advisors. His features revealed nothing, but in his eyes, Galadriel saw something she had not expected. Not only expectation, but also a glimmer of hope that her decision, whatever it might be, would finally solve the problem she represented for him.
“Leave us alone” requested the High King.
When the door closed behind the last of the advisors and they were alone, Gil-galad remained silent for a moment, studying her intently, as if trying to pierce into the darkest corners of her soul.
“Well?” he finally asked, seemingly gently, but in that gentleness lurked a shadow of command.
Galadriel did not take her gaze off him and took a deep breath.
“I will become Halbrand's wife”
A shadow of relief flashed across Gil-galad's face, so quickly hidden behind a mask of royal dignity that she could have thought it was her imagination. She understood that she had just given him exactly what he wanted.
“However, I do this not because I yield to your pressure, nor out of fear of disgrace” she continued before he could interrupt her, while her voice gained strength and conviction. “I do this because I believe that we did not meet on this raft by chance. It was the will of the Valar that we should face the darkness that is coming. You see him as a weak man. I see in him the strength that Middle-earth needs”
Her confession, full of faith in destiny, echoed in the quiet hall. Gil-galad listened to her in silence. The relief he felt at her consent now fought with irritation provoked by her idealism, but he did not intend to engage in discussion, because he had achieved his goal.
“Your faith is admirable, Galadriel” he said in a haughty tone. “I believe it is a good choice, although... perhaps not one our ancestors would have expected”
Without waiting for her response, he walked to the door and beckoned to one of the guards standing in the corridor.
“Bring Lord Halbrand here” he ordered. “Let him hear the news from Lady Galadriel herself.”
At the sound of his name and the thought that she would soon be face to face with him again, so quickly after what had happened between them in her chamber, Galadriel blushed and lowered her head, unable to hide her embarrassment. Gil-galad noticed this immediately and narrowed his eyes slightly.
“So, the mere prospect of meeting Halbrand affects you that much?” he asked. “I thought you would feel relief after making your decision, not... confusion”
“Well... it’s...” she began and fell silent, not knowing how to explain the chaos that reigned within her.
Gil-galad watched her silently for a moment, his mind working quickly. He realised that whatever had happened between her and Halbrand was much more intense and complicated than he had initially assumed. And that this complication could become another problem, even after she agreed to the marriage.
“I would like to know...” he began, with tension in his voice. “What is the nature of your relationship with this man? Galadriel, are you and Halbrand... are you lovers?”
She tried to deny it and protest, but then she remembered the wild passion that had brought them together. She couldn't. Her silence and the blush on her cheeks spoke louder than any words.
“So it is” Gil-galad sighed, speaking more to himself than to her. “So, you’ve finally lost your reason... In this situation, we cannot delay, and the wedding must take place as soon as possible. I do not want Halbrand in Lindon. Therefore, the ceremony will take place here in Eregion, and I will ensure that everything is done according to tradition”
“But why the rush?” she asked, completely baffled.
“Have you changed your mind? Or are you disappointed that you won't get your ceremony in Lindon? If fate, as you say, has bound your paths together, so be it, but let that path lead as far away from my kingdom as possible”
When Galadriel heard this, all her fear and shame vanished, replaced by icy fury. She felt like a pawn being moved around the chessboard according to his whim.
“How dare you?!” she hissed and took a step towards him. “Do you think you can dispose of me as your property? Arrange my life, decide my future, just to get rid of a problem?!”
“I'm just trying to clean up the chaos you created!” Gil-galad replied angrily. “It's your lack of control that has become a danger to us all!”
“My lack of control?! What about your arrogance?! Your eternal distrust?! You always look for fault in me instead of seeing...”
“See what?!’ he interrupted her sharply. “How Finarfin's daughter loses her head and gets involved in an impossible relationship that could bring ruin upon us?! Do you really think...”
He didn't finish, because a concerned guard entered the room.
“My lord..”’ he hesitated, sensing the tense atmosphere.
“What's happened?!” Gil-galad growled.
“It's about that man. Lord Halbrand. We were to bring him here, as you ordered. But... he's nowhere to be found”
“What do you mean, nowhere to be found?”
“We searched his chambers, my lord, and they are empty. He is not in the forge either. We asked the servants, the guards... No one has seen him. He has disappeared, as if he had vanished into thin air”
“Keep searching” ordered the High King. “Search every nook and cranny of Eregion. You must find him!”
The guard bowed and hurried out. Gil-galad turned and looked at Galadriel. She was pale, and her eyes betrayed a concern she could not hide, but the King showed her no sympathy. His gaze was cold and calculating.
“Well...” he clearly relished the irony of the situation, “It seems that your future spouse has a tendency to disappear at the least opportune moments. This does not bode well for your... relationship”
“He didn't disappear without reason” Galadriel trembled with suppressed anger and anxiety.
“Perhaps” the elf agreed indifferently, “but he could also have simply cowered from responsibility. It doesn't matter. My decision remains unchanged. Tonight, during the feast, I will announce your engagement. I hope that by then Halbrand will have been found, and that both of you will attend the ceremony. It would be... highly inappropriate if the groom were absent”
His words were nothing more than a veiled threat. He made it clear to her that he expected her obedience, regardless of what had happened to Halbrand. It was too much for her. The fury she had been suppressing finally exploded.
“I'm tired of your constant judgement!” she cried desperately. “Perhaps you’ll prefer to say the marriage vow yourself on my behalf, since I might not utter it humbly enough?”
Without waiting for his response, she turned on her heel and headed for the door.
“Galadriel!” he called after her, but she was no longer listening.
She stormed out of the hall, ignoring the surprised guards. She was determined to find him and discover what had happened. Her instincts told her there was one place where he might seek refuge or a moment of solitude.
When she entered the garden, she was enveloped by silence and the shade of spreading branches. She looked around frantically, but he was nowhere to be seen. Galadriel paused for a moment and closed her eyes. She concentrated and tried with all her will to summon him, searching her memory for traces of his warmth, the scent of his skin and the roughness of his hands. She was filled with a mixture of conflicting feelings and desires that had almost destroyed her before.
Suddenly, she felt a strange warmth spreading through her hand. She looked at Nenya, which usually shimmered with a gentle blue light, but now glowed white-hot, radiating a strange energy. In one moment, she understood that the power of the ring was reacting to his presence. As she moved forward, the warmth began to grow until it turned into a gentle pulsation, resembling a heartbeat. Galadriel walked faster and faster, ignoring the branches and damp grass. Now only one thing mattered: she had to find him and regain at least some control over her own fate.
***
Halbrand burst from her chamber, running without direction, his breath heavy and uneven. He paid no attention to his torn tunic, which exposed part of his torso, or to whether anyone could see him in such a state. All that mattered was escape.
Finally, instinctively, he turned into a side passage and went straight out into the garden. He only stopped under the spreading branches of an old oak tree, leaning against the trunk, trying to catch his breath. It was not physical exhaustion, but shock and disgust. His skin still remembered Galadriel's touch, and behind his eyelids he had an image of her scattered hair and parted lips. She was a fire he could not tame, even though throughout his entire existence he had deluded himself into believing that he could control every element.
Was this what it meant to have feelings? He despised them, because from the very beginning he had been an architect and a manipulator, not a dreamer and a lover. He had come so close to destroying the entire elaborate plan he had been building for months. Of course he desired her, but it was supposed to be the desire of an artist shaping a perfect work, not a lust so blind and brutal that he was ready to take her on the cold floor. Galadriel had probably seen it, and now she might fear him, which would be the end of everything. He clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his skin. He would not let this moment of weakness define the whole game. He was more than the sum of his primitive instincts.
“Focus!” he whispered to himself.
He slowly straightened up, wiped the sweat from his forehead with his hand, and adjusted the remains of his torn tunic. The mask returned to its place. He could no longer react on impulse. He began to pace nervously around the tree, while his mind feverishly analysed everything. Suddenly, he stopped, realising that it wasn't just his fall. He remembered how she had torn his tunic in an act of pure, unbridled lust. He remembered her moans, her trembling, and the way her body responded to his touch. Galadriel had also lost control. This thought was like balm to his wounded pride. It was their mutual fall, because she desired him as desperately as he desired her.
He calmed down a little, because it meant he hadn't destroyed everything. He returned to his plan. Now he had to make sure that nothing would stand in her way of making the right decision. He had to be her only refuge when everyone turned against her. He arranged the next points of his plan in his head.
Suddenly, warmth spread through his hand. Narya began to pulsate with light, disturbingly in harmony with his heartbeat. His gaze became vigilant, but at the same time he felt a strange weakness. Galadriel was somewhere nearby and she needed him. He guessed what he had to do and moved towards where this invisible connection, forged in the fire of the forge and sealed with their shared passion, was leading him.
He knew he was getting closer, so he slowed his pace and his movements became silent. He wanted her to find him by chance and see him in a moment of apparent breakdown. He chose a stone bench in a secluded corner, hidden in the shade of a weeping willow whose branches almost touched the ground. It was the perfect place for someone who wanted to hide their pain. He sat down on the bench, hunched his shoulders and hid his face in his hands, his body shaken by a barely visible, controlled shiver. He was the picture of authentic despair.
He didn't wait long. Galadriel stopped when she saw him. She raised her eyebrows, surprised by his appearance. He was hunched over, his tunic torn and his hair was dishevelled. She was not prepared for the sight of a man who, just a few hours earlier, had been in control of everything, and now looked almost defenceless. He knew she was standing next to him, but only after a moment, with great effort, did he lift his head and look at her. His eyes were empty, devoid of fire.
“Galadriel...” he whispered her name. “What are you doing here? I thought... I thought you hated me”
She held her breath when she heard those words. For a moment, she saw in him a boy who had lost his way amid his own fears, not a man who would stop at nothing.
“Why would I hate you?” she whispered, leaning towards him.
He looked away from her, staring at the ground beneath his feet.
“For what happened in your chamber. I... lost control. I desired you so much that I forgot everything. Who you are and the respect you deserve. I almost hurt you, Galadriel”
His confession was so full of shame that she was overcome with tenderness. She gently placed her hand on his shoulder.
“You didn't hurt me” she said quietly but firmly. “Because I... wanted it too”
Halbrand raised his head, and his face showed complete astonishment.
“No... Galadriel, you cannot say that! I was... blinded” for a long moment, they did not take their eyes off each other.
“You didn't do anything to me, and you were the one who held back. It was me...” she paused, unable to name the shameful, burning desire that had consumed everything she had known until then. “That's why, right after you ran out of my chamber, I went straight to Gil-galad”
Every muscle in Halbrand's body tensed, and his pupils dilated in something between shock and terror. For a split second, he was too surprised to hide it. Everything he had meticulously built over weeks suddenly began to crumble.
“To Gil-galad?” he repeated hollowly, wanting to make sure he had heard correctly.
“Yes, I was supposed to tell him what decision I had made” she said, surprised.
His intricate web of lies and half-truths, with which he had beguiled the elves, began to unravel. This was not supposed to happen. Not now, and not like this. Galadriel had taken the initiative, and suddenly he was at her mercy.
“What did you tell him?” he finally managed to say.
“Halbrand, calm down” her voice was now gentle, almost soothing. “I told him that I agree to become your wife”
“You agreed? Really?” the panic in Halbrand's eyes gave way to disbelief, then relief.
“Yes” she confirmed.
He had just achieved his goal and should have been rejoicing in his final triumph, yet as he looked at her, a strange unease stirred in him. Anger still smouldered in her eyes.
“Something's wrong” he said, looking at her closely. “You agreed. You should be happy, but you look like you've just returned from the battlefield. What did he say to you, Galadriel? What exactly did Gil-galad say when you told him your decision?”
His sudden change in tone and the insight with which he read her state caused her to feel a new wave of anxiety. She tried to put on an indifferent expression.
“Nothing important. He accepted my decision. He set a date...”
“Don't lie... I know you. What did he do to you?” he knew she was hiding something, and he had to know the whole truth in order to control the situation.
Galadriel hesitated for a moment, glancing to the side, ashamed of every word that had been spoken in the High King's chamber.
“I told him the truth” she finally confessed with unexpected sincerity. “That I believe our meeting was not a coincidence and that together we will defeat the darkness. And he treated me like a problem to be solved. In the end... he asked me if we were lovers, and I couldn't lie”
“And then what?” he asked with feigned lightness.
“He decided that the wedding would take place as soon as possible, here in Eregion. He doesn't want to see you in Lindon...”
Halbrand fell quiet, and then in one swift, unforeseen move he took hold of her and pulled her close. Before she could react, she was seated on his lap, imprisoned in his embrace.
“Gil-galad will regret those words” he said quietly, with that characteristic, predatory fervour that always appeared when he really wanted something, while his hand moved along her back. “He doesn't understand... you belong to me, Galadriel”
“Don't say that...” she whispered. “I am no one's property...”
“You are my queen, and only I can protect you. Gil-galad will soon find out what it means to offend you... or me” he leaned in so that their foreheads almost touched. “I will not give you up, my dearest. Even if you begged me to”
She saw in his eyes the same fire and dark desire for possession that had burned in him that night. It terrified her and intoxicated her at the same time. She tried to resist, but then he grabbed her hand and pressed it to his heart so she could feel how fast it was beating beneath her fingers. She opened her mouth to say something, but he didn't give her a chance and kissed her.
In that passionate kiss, there was an unshakeable certainty that he had regained control and that she belonged to him. There was no tenderness in it, only a deep, wild need. Every movement of his lips and tongue was like a command. Galadriel tried to pull away for a moment, but he pulled her even closer to him. Halbrand tasted her lips as if he could finally savour everything he had denied himself for so long. His kiss was rough, greedy and possessive. He ran his tongue along her lower lip, parting her mouth and demanding that she receive him fully. Their tongues began to entwine in a dance that had nothing to do with gentleness.
His kiss was so intense that she finally had to pull away to catch her breath. Her lips were swollen, her cheeks flushed, and her hair was a mess. Halbrand made to pull her toward him again, but Galadriel took the opportunity to move away from him. For a split second, she saw in him an obsession, a hunger, and that primal, untamed power that she could neither understand nor tame.
“Halbrand, stop” she whispered, looking around nervously. “Someone might see us”
He did not answer immediately. He placed his fingers on her lips, wanting to silence her reason. He watched her for a moment, revelling in her embarrassment, her anxiety, and every movement that betrayed her tension and desire.
“You will soon be my wife. We no longer need to hide. Let everyone know that Lady Galadriel is mine, and I will kiss her, caress her, and take her in every way I desire... and you will beg me not to stop...”
His voice held something hypnotic, drawing her like a magnet even as it filled her with a fear she could not escape. Galadriel looked away, trying to hide the trembling of her hands. Desire and shame clashed within her. She knew she shouldn't let him do this, that she should back away, but his tempting and shameless words evoked a longing in her that she couldn't name.
“You can't talk like that” she managed to say.
“I can, because you want it as much as I do. Even now...” he whispered with a smile, bringing his lips close to her ear. “I know it. I can see you trembling when I touch you. I can hear your heart beating faster. You should be afraid of me, Galadriel. Because if you look at me like that again... if you kiss me again like you did just now, I won't be able to stop myself. I'll give you everything you want, even if you don't have the courage to say it yet”
“Let me go!” she wanted to regain control and escape from the truth she saw in her own reaction.
Halbrand's hand slid down her arm, stopping at her neck. His thumb caressed her skin, which burned under his touch.
“You don't have to pretend and fight anymore. Tell me you want me...” he whispered, leaning in so that his hair brushed her cheek.
His boldness was so absolute and disarming. He knew what she felt, and that knowledge was the ultimate humiliation for her, but also a strange sense of relief. She gathered the last of her strength, because she had to stop this dangerous game before she lost control again.
“We must go” she said finally. “Soon the feast will begin, where Gil-galad intends to announce that we are to be husband and wife...”
Halbrand reluctantly loosened his grip and let her get up from his lap. There was no trace of anger or uncertainty on his face, only calm, almost lazy confidence.
“You're right. Let’s see what your king decides to do” his lips curved into a mocking, inscrutable smile.
“Shall we go there together? Like last time?” she asked, trying to sound natural.
Halbrand rose from the bench and looked at her amused.
“No” he said.
“But why? Everyone saw...” she was completely baffled.
“Exactly” he interrupted her gently. “The elves and Gil-galad expect a spectacle in which we play by their rules. And I think... we should let the tension build. Let them wonder what's going on”
He approached her and gently cupped her chin, forcing her to look at him. His eyes were now burning not with passion, but with cool calculation.
“Besides...” he lowered his voice sensually, “Won't it be more interesting if I enter the hall alone, and then I can watch you enter, knowing that you belong to me?”
“So be it... we'll meet in the hall” she sighed.
“Yes, today the elves will learn that you have chosen... me” he announced with satisfaction, then turned and disappeared into the shadows of the trees, leaving her alone.
***
The glow of hundreds of candles lit up the hall. Long tables were laden with food and wine, and the air was filled with the delicate melody of harps. It was supposed to be a farewell feast in tribute to the High King, who was to leave Eregion the next day, but everyone sensed that something more was about to happen.
Gil-galad sat in the place of honour, and the two seats next to him remained empty. Elrond sat nearby and could not hide his concern. Since his conversation with Galadriel, and then that strange confrontation with Halbrand, he knew that something was wrong. That beneath the surface of political games and declarations lay a darkness that no one else could see.
“Will Lady Galadriel and Lord Halbrand be joining us soon, my lord?” he asked, trying to sound calm. “Surely everyone wishes to raise a toast to the Bearers of the Rings”
Gil-galad glanced at him, a shadow of irritation flashing in his eyes.
“They have been informed of the feast” he replied coldly. “I trust they know what they are doing”
His answer did nothing to clarify the situation, only deepening Elrond's concern.
And just then, the door swung open. All conversation ceased, and Halbrand stood in the doorway. He was not the same man they had seen yesterday. He was wearing black velvet robes, perfectly tailored to emphasise his stature. On his finger, Naryia burned with a red glow. His hair, usually messy, was carefully combed, revealing his high forehead. He walked upright and looked around the hall with confidence and regal calm, and the elves parted before him as if an invisible force was clearing the way for him. Something had changed in him. All the feigned humility and tension had disappeared. Halbrand was the King of the South.
He approached the main table. He did not smile, indifferent to everyone around him. Gil-galad looked at him, and for the first time that evening, a shadow of concern appeared on his face. This man exuded a power he had not noticed before. And the fact that he had come alone, without Galadriel, only intensified this strange feeling. Halbrand took his place at the side of the High King. He nodded respectfully to Celebrimbor, who was pleased to see him.
“You are late, Lord Halbrand” Gil-galad said, barely hiding his growing annoyance. “We were hoping to raise the first toast to the Bearers of the Rings”
“Forgive me, High King” the man replied, reaching for a goblet of wine. “Sometimes the most important matters require a little additional preparation”
“And Lady Galadriel?” Gil-galad could not help himself. “Does she also need more time?”
Halbrand raised the goblet to his lips, took a slow sip of wine, and looked at the King with amusement.
“Lady Galadriel, I believe, my lord, will come at the right moment” he said enigmatically. “She is a being who always knows when her presence is most... desired”
His answer was bold and explained nothing. Gil-galad realised that this man dared to play with him in front of all the elves. He did not have time to answer him, because Galadriel entered the hall. Her blue dress was intricately embroidered with silver. Her long hair fell freely over her shoulders and shone like the subdued light of the stars. On her finger, Nenya glowed with a cool light, attracting the attention of everyone present.
Galadriel paused, but did not see Halbrand anywhere. Only when he stood up and moved towards her across the hall did she recognise his silhouette. There was no longer even a shadow of the uncertainty she knew from their moments together. His gaze was so intense and possessive that she felt her breath catch. It reached deep into her soul and reminded her of every moment of weakness and every kiss. He literally devoured her with his eyes, not caring about the consequences.
Halbrand stopped right in front of her. The whole room held its breath, waiting to see what would happen. Gil-galad, seeing that the situation was completely out of his control, decided to act.
“Lord Halbrand” he stood up, “The feast awaits. Please return to your seat. I have an announcement to make...”
“Before we sit down, High King” the man interrupted him, and his voice was strong and carried throughout the hall, “There is one thing I must do”
He slowly turned back to Galadriel and knelt before her. A loud murmur of disbelief ran through the hall. Gil-galad turned pale with fury. Halbrand ignored them all. He gently took her hand, the one on which Nenya shone.
“Lady Galadriel of the house of Finarfin” he said in a firm tone, “your light is like a fire that melts even the hardest steel. Your pride is a challenge I could not resist. You stand before me, and though I am a shadow, I choose your light and ask you... to be my wife and queen, so that together we may face the coming darkness”
The entire hall watched her every move, but for her, only he mattered. She could hear her own breathing and heartbeat. She was defenceless and yet incredibly powerful. Gil-galad took advantage of her hesitation, realising that he had to regain control. Before she could speak, he spoke first.
“Lord Halbrand has asked you a question, Lady Galadriel. Your king and your people await your answer. Do you accept this proposal? Do you consent to join your fate with the fate of the King of the South, for the good of our alliance and the future of Middle-earth?”
Galadriel's eyes flashed with anger. For a split second, the silence in the hall became unbearably thick. Her icy gaze, full of pride, shifted to Gil-galad.
“My fate is not your property, King, nor does it belong to my people, but since you expect an answer...” she said, then turned gently to Halbrand. “I choose you and will become your wife, but not out of duty or fear of darkness. I choose you because, for the first time in centuries, I have found myself in you”
“So, the decision has been made...” a moment later, Gil-galad spoke, striving to rise above the swelling tide of whispers, and lifted his goblet high. “In the face of the coming war, there is no time to delay. The wedding ceremony will take place in three days, here in Eregion. Until then, I will stay here to ensure order and safety for the future spouses”
A loud murmur ran through the hall. Surprise mingled with relief and cautious joy. A marriage between an elf and a human was completely unexpected, but in the face of growing darkness, this desperate step seemed to be the only hope.
Halbrand slowly rose from his knees, and his face was almost gentle. He ignored everyone and approached Galadriel. She was terrified by what she saw in his eyes. She knew what was about to happen, and she was paralysed by the thought that he wanted to kiss her here, in front of everyone. She felt a blush rise to her cheeks, as if she were young again and unaware of her own strength. He leaned in slowly, but he did not kiss her on the lips. Instead, he respectfully placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. It was a gesture so unexpected and so brazenly intimate that it completely threw her off balance.
“I'll come to you tonight...” he whispered and pulled away, giving her a bold look.
“Halbrand...” she tried to protest, “Everyone is looking at us”
“Let them look, Galadriel. We have nothing left to hide” he said so quietly that only she could hear him. “I think you're really angry because you want me to come to your chamber”
Rage mingled with sudden, hot shame within her, but Halbrand calmly took her hand.
“Come, my fiancée” he said more loudly. “Let us not keep our King waiting any longer”
He led her to the table, while her heart pounded wildly. Halbrand had just promised her a night of sin and pleasure, which, to her horror, she couldn’t wait for.
Elrond watched all this with concern. He observed how Halbrand deliberately ignored his gaze. How he whispered something to the blushing Galadriel, and saw that spark of rebellion and desire that had never before burned so clearly in her eyes. It was no longer the light of Galadriel he knew and trusted, it was a different fire, much hotter and more dangerous.
He recalled his conversation with Halbrand in the forge. That brief moment of hesitation, and then that sudden, cruel arrogance. He remembered his words: “And I... I know what Galadriel tastes like when she burns brightest”. Those were not the words of someone who loved, but of someone who possessed.
Suddenly, Elrond's suspicions turned into grim certainty. Halbrand was not who he claimed to be. He was someone much older, darker and far more dangerous. And Galadriel, his friend, the purest soul and sharpest mind he knew, was completely blinded and trapped in a web of lies that she herself did not see.
He had to act. He couldn't let the darkness he sensed in Halbrand poison her irrevocably. He looked around the hall, seeing smiling, unaware faces. No one else could see it. He was alone, but that didn't matter. He would find proof. He will search the archives and reaching back to the earliest chronicles of the South. He will do everything to uncover Halbrand’s true identity before it is too late.
Chapter 10
Notes:
In this last duel of will and desire, is Galadriel’s capitulation a triumph of love, or the perfect move in Halbrand’s dark game? Who is truly the hunter, and who is the prey?
Sorry for any mistakes - English is not my native language.
Chapter Text
The feast was slowly coming to an end. The music grew quieter and the conversations more subdued. Many elves, weary from emotions and wine, began to discreetly leave the hall, while those who remained stole glances at Galadriel and Halbrand. The atmosphere of apparent joy gave way to exhaustion and uncertainty. At some point, Halbrand rose slowly so as not to attract too much attention. He bowed his head slightly towards Gil-galad.
“With your permission, High King,” he said politely, “the evening has been long, and we have busy days ahead of us. I shall retire for the night.”
“Of course, Lord Halbrand, but allow me to assign you an honour guard to escort you to your chamber. I would not wish anything bad to happen to Lady Galadriel’s future husband.”
Gil-galad gave a signal, and two heavily built guards, who had been standing motionless against the wall, stepped forward and stood on either side of Halbrand. Their faces were impenetrable, and their hands rested on the hilts of their swords. Halbrand froze, all his nonchalance gone, while his eyes burned with rage.
“I don't understand. Is this what I am now… your prisoner, not your ally?” he asked quietly.
Gil-galad smiled, but it was a smile devoid of any warmth.
“Not at all! It is merely an expression of my concern for your safety. You are too valuable an ally for us to risk any harm coming to you. My guards will just escort you to your chamber and ensure that no one disturbs your rest.”
Galadriel watched the scene and felt a helpless anger growing inside her. She raised her head proudly and turned to Gil-galad.
“High King,” she began, trying to keep her voice calm, “Lord Halbrand is our guest and my future husband. I guarantee that he can take care of his own safety.”
“Galadriel, I do not doubt his abilities,” replied Gil-galad, without even looking at her. “But caution is the mother of wisdom. Especially in such uncertain times.”
Halbrand fixed the King with a contemptuous gaze.
“If that is your will, sire, I will gladly accept your concern,” he bowed slightly, with a mocking smile.
The guards stood beside him. He looked at Galadriel once more, then, standing proudly upright, he headed for the exit. As he walked through the corridors to his chamber, his thoughts revolved around the new, almost intoxicating advantage he had just gained. He knew perfectly well that Gil-galad would pay for this insult with blood, but he had given him the ideal excuse to show Galadriel who her real enemy was.
What's more, someday in the future, if the day came when she tried to challenge him or deny her guilt, all he had to do was remind her of this night. He was convinced that after all this, she would come to him tonight, and thanks to that, she would never again be able to say that he was the tempter. He knew how much this would bind them together. With each passing moment, their closeness was no longer a tool. It was slowly becoming an obsession from which he himself could no longer escape.
***
Galadriel sat stiffly in her seat, forcing herself to maintain a semblance of calm. She was left alone at the table, next to an empty chair that seemed to mock her situation and next to the King, whom she now hated more than ever. She understood one thing, she couldn't stay here any longer. Too much disgust filled her at the triumphant gaze of Gil-galad and the whispers spreading through the hall. She stood up, dipping her head in a gesture so slight it verged on insolence, and left the feast without a word.
She walked through the empty corridors, straight to her chamber. Her anger at the King fought with her concern for Halbrand. He had treated him like a prisoner. He had humiliated him. And he had accepted it with surprising dignity. Was he really safe? What if his pride, so deeply wounded, drove him to some desperate act? She had to make sure he was all right. She had to talk to him. Even if only for a moment...
She stopped at the door of her chamber and realised she was lying to herself. She knew that if she sneaked into his chamber, it would not be to make sure he was safe. She would go there because, deep down, she wanted to finish what they had started. And she understood, with terrifying, humiliating certainty, that if she stood in his doorway and saw him again, she would give herself to him completely. This knowledge should have stopped her, but instead, a new wave of dangerous determination washed over her.
She turned and headed towards his chamber. She no longer cared if anyone saw her. She was ready to challenge anyone who tried to stand in her way. When she reached the corridor leading to Halbrand's chamber, her heart beat faster. As she had feared, two of Gil-galad's guards stood in front of the door. Disappointed, she stopped in the shadows and hid behind a column. But she couldn't give up. Not now.
She focused all her willpower, trying to find a solution. And then she felt it again. The same disturbing warmth spreading across her hand that she had experienced in the garden. Nenya glowed in the darkness, its white-blue gem seeming to pulsate with a delicate inner light. The subtle power of the ring protected her and might be able to help her.
She had never consciously tried to use magic before. She closed her eyes and concentrated. She did not know what she was doing. Only instinct guided her. She had to pass unnoticed and reach him. The ring heated up so rapidly that it almost burned her. She opened her eyes and raised her hand, and a delicate stream of light flowed from the ring towards the guards.
“You are tired...” she whispered. “It's cold in this corridor, isn't it? Wouldn't it be better to leave for a moment and rest? Lord Halbrand no longer needs your protection.”
The elves hesitated and fought what they heard for a moment, but the magic broke their resistance faster than Galadriel could have expected.
“Perhaps... we should...” muttered one, leaning against the wall, suddenly tired, as if he had been watching over a child all night, not the future king of the South.
“The High King is pleased with how you have fulfilled your task,” Galadriel added.
With that, the guards turned and walked away calmly. They did not look back and behaved as if she were not there. She stood motionless, her heart pounding wildly. She had just used the power of the ring. She looked at Nenya with a mixture of admiration and fear. A new and unsettling power filled her, but she had no time to ponder it. The way was clear, so she approached the door to Halbrand's chamber and pressed the handle without hesitation.
She slipped inside like a ghost and closed the door behind her just as quietly. The chamber was shrouded in semi-darkness, lit only by the dying fire in the hearth and the moonlight streaming through the window. Halbrand stood with his back to her, leaning against a wooden table. He had just taken off his black tunic and carelessly thrown it onto a chair. He was half-naked, wearing only dark trousers. The light from the fire danced on his bare back, carving shadows into his powerful muscles. At the sound of the door closing, he turned abruptly, and a knife that must have been lying on the table flashed in his hand.
“By the Valar, Galadriel!” he growled. “Have you lost your mind?”
He put down the knife and approached her with quick steps, and his presence was almost overwhelming. He stopped right in front of her, towering over her.
“What are you doing here? Do you want us to get caught?! Do you want to destroy everything we've fought for?” His anger was so genuine that she felt ashamed.
“I...” she whispered uncertainly, “I was worried because I thought... I wanted to make sure you were safe.”
His face, which had been tense with anger, softened. He looked at her for a long moment, as if analysing her words, and then, very slowly, that familiar, predatory gleam appeared in his eyes.
“Safe? Do you really think you came here in the middle of the night, breaking the High King's orders and risking everything, just to check if I was all right? Who are you trying to fool? Me... or yourself?” he whispered, coming even closer.
Halbrand raised his hand and gently touched a strand of her hair. His voice became a sensual caress that seemed to penetrate her skin.
“You came here to finish what we started...” he leaned in and his lips were right next to her ear. “Because you wanted to feel it again. That lust. That loss of control. You came because you knew that only I could give you that. Admit it.”
“I didn't come here to explain myself,” she protested.
“That's what fascinates me most about you,” his lips brushed her earlobe, "Your stubbornness and pride that make you pretend you're above it all, even when you're burning inside... What will you do now, my queen? Will you tell me that you can leave me and return to your chamber without looking back? Convince me, Galadriel. Prove that you are stronger than what brought you here."
She sought to free herself, but he drew her into his embrace and his hands moved down her back, while his skillful fingers found the silken lacing of her dress. He reached the the thin ribbon and pulled. She felt the first knot come undone, and the fabric across her chest and waist became a little looser. And then his fingers began their slow, methodical work.
“You've always been so... tense,” he smiled predatorily and pulled the ribbon again. “Locked in your armour. In your duties and your will to fight.”
With each movement he made, the dress became looser.
“But underneath...” he continued until his fingers reached the lower part of her back, “...I always felt that flame.”
“Halbrand...” Galadriel looked into his eyes and her resistance melted away, while her senses stretched to the point of pain.
“It's time to let it burn,” he pulled one last time, and the corset of her dress loosened completely.
Halbrand carefully placed his hands on her shoulders. He slid her dress down, and as it fell, it first revealed her breasts, then her waist, until it landed with a soft rustle on the stone floor. Galadriel stood before him wearing only a thin silk slip. The fabric was so delicate that in the dim light of the chamber, illuminated only by the fire in the hearth and the moonlight, it seemed almost transparent. It revealed the perfect lines of her body.
His breathing became heavier. For a moment, he simply looked at her with pure, unconditional admiration. Slowly, so as not to frighten her, he grabbed the thin strap of the slip on her left shoulder. He sensed her fear, her guilt, but also her dangerous curiosity. With deliberate slowness, he slid the strap down her arm until he exposed her breast. It was perfectly shaped and crowned with a nipple hardened by cold and excitement. Galadriel flinched, and her hands instinctively rose to cover herself, but he was faster.
“No!” he caught her hands. “Never cover yourself from me.”
He leaned down slowly, his breath fondling her skin. When he touched her breast with his lips, Galadriel was surprised by her own sensitivity. She had never imagined it could be so intense. His tongue slowly explored her shape, circling her nipple. And then his lips closed around it, sucking it delicately and biting it. A stifled moan escaped her throat, for she could no longer hide how much she wanted him.
Halbrand revelled in her surrender. He paused his caresses for a moment and lifted his head, his eyes burning with dark triumph. He looked at her open mouth and flushed cheeks, then grabbed the other strap and pulled it down. The slip slid smoothly down her body, and Galadriel stood naked before him. He watched her with the admiration and reverence of an artist who had just created his finest work.
“Even in my wildest visions...” he whispered, his voice full of delight, “I never imagined you would be this perfect.”
Then he cupped her other breast in his hand, his thumb slowly tracing small circles around her hardened nipple. As he leaned down again, his hair fell onto her skin, tickling her gently, and his tongue moved across her nipple, leaving a wet trail behind, until suddenly he sucked it tenderly, teasing her with skill. He kissed her, licked her and caressed her with his tongue, as intensely as if he wanted to remember her taste.
Each of his kisses and touches aroused her desire until she stopped feeling ashamed. She was naked, defenceless, and yet she felt strong because she was the one allowing him every gesture and petting. Her breasts were moist from his kisses when he suddenly took his lips away from her skin and looked straight at her.
Then, in a sudden, unexpected burst of courage, perhaps born of the need to regain at least some control, her hands reached for his trousers and she began to slowly untie them. Halbrand did not help her, but watched her with interest. When she finally managed to unbutton his trousers, his thick and proudly erect penis slipped out from under the fabric.
For a split second, Galadriel held her breath. She glanced over his naked body, so strong and yet so different from the elven ideals, and was both terrified and endlessly fascinated. She had never seen a naked man before, and with Celeborn she shared only intimacy that was ritual rather than passion.
Without a word, Halbrand took off his trousers and stood before her, watching her with a mischievous smile. Galadriel hesitated, startled by the intensity of her feelings and uncertainty, but when he pulled her hand towards his penis, she couldn't pull away. She touched him cautiously, first with her fingertips, then with her whole hand, hesitantly and awkwardly, like someone discovering a whole new world. She felt a pulsating power and heat under her fingers that she had never known before. The moment she fully realised what she was doing, she wanted to withdraw her hand, frightened by her own boldness, but then she heard his quiet laughter.
“Are you ashamed?” his voice was like warm honey, and he gently cupped her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Do you really think there's anything to be ashamed of, Galadriel? It's just a body. Yours. Mine. Tools of pleasure waiting to be used. Shame is a lie designed to keep you caged in fear of what is natural. Learn me and take as much as you want...”
His thumb slowly stroked her lower lip, and encouraged by his words and tenderness, she began to fondle him more boldly.
“Yes, Galadriel... you won't let yourself be caged, will you? You're beginning to taste freedom,” he moaned softly as her hand wrapped around him more tightly.
His penis throbbed in her hand as she tightened her fingers around it, then slowly moved them down and back up again, more courageous and confident than before.
It was such an intense sensation that for one brief moment he forgot his plans, his lies, and who he was. He surrendered completely to her touch. There was something intoxicating and humiliating about it. This body he despised so much responded to her with a force he could not control. It responded with desire, but also with something like admiration for her boldness and the way she broke down her own barriers to get to know him. But this moment of weakness could not last forever. It was too dangerous and too... real.
With a sharp intake of breath, he opened his eyes. The fog of desire lifted, replaced by familiar, cold determination. He saw her hand still caressing him and her face full of doubt, fascination and newfound strength. He couldn't allow this loss of control to become anything more than another tool in his game. So gently but firmly, he took her hand in his and slowly pulled it away. Her fingers trembled, and she hesitated, thinking she had done something wrong.
“Don't think you've done anything wrong. You've just shown me that you're ready for the freedom I've been telling you about. In your world, there may be rules that tell you what you cannot do. But in my world, Galadriel... in the world we are now creating together... the only rule is desire. And you have just shown me how much you desire me." his words were like poison and medicine at the same time.
Before she could answer, he embraced her and lifted her off the ground with an ease that reminded her that she was not only his lover, but also his conquest. He held her so tightly that she could hear his heart beating rapidly.
“What are you doing?!” she asked, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck.
“What I should have done earlier,” he murmured sensually. “I'm taking you where you belong. To my bed.”
It was a gesture of absolute domination, but also of strange, protective tenderness. As he carried her to the bed, he was tense, and she became lighter and lighter in his arms, as if with each step she was losing the last remnants of her own will.
He laid her down on the soft linen with such gentleness that it seemed at odds with the fire consuming him from within. He hovered over her for a moment, leaning on his arms, his gaze like a physical touch, wandering over her naked body in the moonlight.
Galadriel lay still, though conflicting emotions raged inside her. She knew what was about to happen. And yet... she felt like a novice standing on the threshold of an unknown world. She had never experienced the wild, primal force that seemed to emanate from Halbrand. This awareness was both terrifying and exciting.
He must have seen that shadow of fear mixed with curiosity. Instead of acting violently, he leaned in, and his lips found hers. The kiss was different from the previous ones. There was no struggle or domination in it. It was slow, deep and endlessly patient. He wanted to give her time to get used to his closeness and to trust him.
His lips caressed hers with a delicacy she had not expected from him. And then, without breaking the kiss, his hand moved lower, sliding up to the inside of her thighs. Galadriel held her breath, feeling her muscles tense involuntarily.
“You came here knowing what would happen...” he whispered sensually. “I know you want this as much as I do. Say it at last.”
Galadriel did not answer and bit her lip, fighting her own desire and the remnants of her pride. Halbrand smiled slightly mockingly, because he had already won this game, but he wasn't going to stop at words. He moved his hand until he found her moist pussy. He began to caress her, inserting one finger inside and exploring her wetness. His thumb traced her clitoris and began to circle around it, not touching it directly, but teasing it softly, then with increasing intensity. A long moan escaped her throat when he finally touched her clitoris, rubbing it sensually.
“Louder! I want to hear you, Galadriel...” he commanded, pausing for a moment. “Tell me you feel it too. Let me destroy you and take everything you still hide from me.”
Each of his words was like a red-hot iron on her skin. Galadriel held her breath, trying to stifle another moan, but then Halbrand added a second finger, and a moment later a third. He quickly found the right rhythm, smooth and confident at the same time. His fingers filled her and stretched her until all her strength and pride began to crumble. She gave herself to him completely, clenching her hands on the sheet, and her hips instinctively followed his movements.
“Please...” she finally managed to say.
“What are you begging for?” he asked, while his fingers worked even faster.
She answered him with a quiet cry, because at that moment she could no longer lie or pretend. As his fingers sank deeper into her, a sudden shiver ran through Galadriel's body, and her world shrank to his touch and the waves of pleasure that came over her. She was breathing heavily and trembling all over, and he looked down at her triumphantly, because he was just beginning to understand how mighty was the power he had gained that night.
Halbrand teased her clitoris for a moment longer, allowing the shivers of pleasure to spread through her entire body. When her breathing finally calmed down, he leaned over and kissed her softly on the forehead.
“This is only the beginning, my queen,” he whispered, and Galadriel finally opened her eyes.
She saw that there was no longer any tenderness or delight in him. There was only pure, possessive satisfaction. He was like a hunter looking at his prey, admiring its beauty, but also absolutely certain of his right to possess it.
"Galadriel... I want to see you burn."
"Do you think you can have me whenever you want?" she asked, feigning defiance, though her voice trembled.
She knew she was unable to resist him because his will was too strong. His hands moved down and gently but firmly spread her legs, exposing her completely to his gaze. A wave of new shame washed over her, but this time it was different. Darker. Mixed with a strange, perverse excitement that came from this absolute exposure, from this complete loss of control. He knew he had won. He knew that after what had happened, she belonged to him now, regardless of her doubts.
"Mine," he leaned over her, and the shadow of a bold, almost cruel smile played on his lips.
He leaned over her, pressing her down beneath the weight of his body, and closed her lips with a passionate, deep kiss. It contained everything, his passion, desire to lose himself in her, and also the promise that he would never give her to anyone else.
Before Galadriel could fully comprehend what was happening, she felt him inside her. He entered her with one decisive thrust, which wrenched a moan of pain, shock and inevitable pleasure from her lips, muffled by his mouth. He filled her completely, and her cunt involuntarily tightened around him, accepting him and finally surrendering to him.
He plunged into her, deep and completely. At first, he remained motionless, wanting to let her get used to his presence and the fullness he offered her. His strong hands rested on her hips in a possessive gesture that was also full of tenderness.
His first movements were slow, but with each passing moment he gained pace. He became wild and passionate, and in that passion there was a sophisticated game. His sensual caresses, the brush of his lips on her neck, the words whispered in the darkness, made her burn even more. Suddenly, he quickened his pace, driven by a hunger older than Middle-earth, until they both lost themselves and nothing else existed but them, because they were entangled like two elements that had finally found a way to unite.
"Galadriel, you are mine..." he whispered, then hesitated, thinking that this confession might destroy everything. "But I belong to you too."
She did not answer with words. She lifted her hips, pulling him closer, moaned softly, and her fingers dug into his shoulders. She desired him not only as a man, but as one who understood both the darkness and the light from which she was created.
Each of his thrusts was deep, strong, and reached places in her body and soul she never knew existed. Galadriel forgot who she was. She was only a body, burning and responding to his heat. Her screams were loud, unrestrained and primal. Her nails scratched his back and her legs wrapped tightly around him as if she wanted to absorb him. She had never experienced anything like this before. This absolute loss of control, this balancing on the edge of pain and pleasure, this terrifying yet intoxicating awareness that she was completely at his mercy.
And Halbrand was on the edge. Her warmth and wetness, the way she tightened around him with every thrust, took his breath away. He saw the madness in her half-closed eyes, heard her uninhibited moans, and it fuelled his dark nature.
He wanted this moment to last forever, and something he couldn't name was growing inside him. A force so immense and ancient that it barely fit inside this human body. It wanted to flow through him, pour into her and mark her forever with its essence. He was tempted to reveal at least a fragment of his true power, to show her who he really was, the being to whom she so willingly gave herself. To feel her terror and fascination. But he stopped himself. With an effort that cost him almost everything. It was not yet the right time. It was too early. Instead, he focused all that superhuman energy on one goal, on her pleasure.
The power of Nenya, heated by the fire of their joining, flowed through Galadriel like an aprimeval tide, connecting her to him on a level she could not understand. When his fingers found her clitoris, she cried out softly, unsure whether this pleasure was a blessing or a curse.
“Don't leave me...” she murmured. “Never.”
Halbrand responded with a kiss so deep that it took her breath away. They moved in one rhythm, sometimes violent, sometimes almost slow. Occasionally, they would pause to look into each other's eyes and breathe together, as if their lives were about to end in that one second.
Suddenly, his movements became more desperate. He knew she was approaching her climax. He could see it in her eyes and in the trembling of her body. With one last deep thrust that seemed to reach her soul, her whole body exploded in a series of shocking spasms. Her scream was pure, sound of absolute abandonment. Finally, her ultimate surrender caused him to fall into the same abyss as her, and his own cry was a mixture of triumph and something he did not yet understand.
After the chaos of passion that had just swept through the chamber, a deep silence ensued. They lay cuddled among the crumpled linen, their breathing slowly returning to a calmer rhythm. The air was thick with the scent of their bodies, sweat and something primal. Galadriel lay with her head resting on his chest. She could hear the calm, steady beat of his heart and feel the strength of his arm, which still held her tightly, as if he were afraid she would disappear at any moment.
For the first time in hundreds of years, she was filled with absolute peace. But beneath that peace, something much more subtle and significant was happening. She felt as if something inside her had broken. Her fëa had been touched and marked by his presence in a way she could not understand. Something had changed in her, but she was too exhausted and dazed by what had happened to think about it. She just wanted to lie in the silence and in this dangerous but intoxicating closeness.
Halbrand was silent, but his hand was not idle. Slowly, lazily, he stroked her back, her shoulder, ran his fingers through her hair. His touch was tender now, almost reverent, but beneath that gentleness lurked the same dark possessiveness. He had won. He had possessed and dominated her, and yet, when he looked down at her face, so calm and defenceless in the moonlight, his desire was reawakened. He longed to taste her again, to hear her moans and savour her surrender to him in pure ecstasy. He wanted to consume her, absorb her light, possess her again and again, endlessly. But he was held back by the fear that if he gave in to this wave of desire now, he would lose control of his power and she would see something that would not only shock her, but ultimately unmask him. And it was far too early for that.
Strategy had to win out over lust. And her presence here was too precious an opportunity for him to waste. If dawn found her in his bed... Halbrand smiled in the darkness. What would the noble Lord Elrond do when he saw her here? In the bed of a man he despised so much. That annoying elf deserved it for daring to judge him and ask him questions about his feelings. He had the audacity to shower Galadriel with feigned reverence, concealing his own pitiful desire. Yes, that would be the final, perfect blow, and Elrond would finally stop bothering him. Now all that mattered was that she stayed in his bed until dawn.
“Remember this night,” he whispered close to her ear. “Now you are mine alone.”
His words should have angered her, but instead, a faint, provocative smile appeared on her lips.
“Be careful, Halbrand, sometimes the conqueror becomes the prisoner.”
His hand on her back suddenly froze. He pulled back slightly to look at her. He hadn't expected defiance. Not so soon. Instead of tenderness, that familiar, predatory grimace appeared on his face again. Before she could react, his lips crashed onto hers. The kiss was violent, almost angry. It was punishment for her audacity and a brutal reminder of who really held the power here.
“Don't provoke me, Galadriel,” he growled as he broke off as suddenly as he had begun, and his voice was tense with suppressed desire. “Because I swear, if you don't stop, I won't be responsible for myself.”
He looked at her, and in his eyes burned a promise she wasn't sure she wanted or feared. But she no longer had the strength to fight. Halbrand immediately noticed her exhaustion and realised that this was his chance. Her eyelids suddenly became strangely heavy.
“My dearest, you are tired...” his tone softened, becoming a low, hypnotic whisper again.
He used his voice like an instrument, weaving a barely perceptible note of power into it. The same power that had bent the will of so many other beings.
“I... shouldn't,” she whispered weakly, fighting the drowsiness.
“Shhh...” his lips brushed her forehead. “You don't have to fight anymore. Not tonight. I am here and I will watch over you. Rest, Galadriel. Surrender to it. Surrender to me...”
Her last conscious thought was how safe she felt in his arms, and then, for the first time in countless years, she fell asleep, trusting that someone else was keeping watch.
Halbrand lay in the darkness, his body still burning with unfulfilled desire, but his mind was cold. Galadriel was his challenge and his obsession, and... suddenly he realised with horror that if he ever lost her, he would never be able to satisfy the desire she had awakened in him forever.
Chapter 11
Notes:
My dear readers, with great excitement, I present to you chapter 11, which completely got out of my control, because it is the longest and most intense chapter I have written so far.
But before we return to Middle-earth, I wanted to thank you from the bottom of my heart. Your support is incredible, because ‘His Name’ already has over 2,900 views and over 190 kudos 😍 This makes me want to keep writing – thank you for being here.
What awaits you in this chapter?
The dawn over Eregion brings no relief, but a brutal awakening.
Galadriel must face not only the consequences of a night spent in Halbrand's arms, but also a terrifying warning sent by the spirit of someone she loves most. Will this open her eyes, or will Halbrand manage to turn her fear into even deeper devotion?Meanwhile, Elrond begins his investigation and discovers a truth that will shake him to his core...
I invite you to read on! 🔥
Chapter Text
Elrond did not stay for the end of the feast. He could not. He was still haunted by the sight of Halbrand kneeling before Galadriel and her simply agreeing to become his wife. The dangerous gleam in her eyes, which he had never seen before, mingled with Halbrand's triumphant smile. But the strangest thing was Gil-galad's behaviour, who first allowed all this to happen and then treated the future king like a common prisoner. This was no longer politics, but some kind of dark game whose rules no one understood. No one except Halbrand.
Elrond did not go to his chamber because he knew he would not be able to rest. Driven by a strange mixture of fear and a desperate need to find something tangible in this ocean of lies, he went straight to the archives. Lindir, the archivist, was sitting at the entrance and looked up from his book, surprised by such a late visit.
“Lord Elrond! What brings you here at this hour? Some urgent matter for the High King?”
Elrond froze for a moment, because how could he explain that he had come here to spy on his closest friend’s fiancé, whom he suspected of lies and manipulation?
“No, Lindir,” he replied, trying to make his voice sound relaxed. “I need to find the answer to one question and... calm my thoughts after the feast.”
“Of course,” the elf bowed his head. “Let me know if I can help you in any way.”
Elrond was about to head into the archives when he suddenly realised that he didn't know where to start his search.
“Actually...” he began, “Tell me, where can I find some documents about the kingdoms of men in the South?”
“It will be easier if I take you there. This way, sir.”
Elrond followed the archivist into the depths of the large bookcases. His mind was working feverishly. It was a desperate attempt. What was he actually looking for? How could he prove that Halbrand was a deceiver?
“Here,” the elf pointed to a shelf where scrolls lay in perfect order. “Trade treaties, border disputes and genealogy. There isn't much, perhaps if I knew what your doubts were about...”
“Genealogy?” Elrond asked with interest.
“Yes.” Lindir approached one of the shelves.
He began to search nervously for something, but suddenly stopped, checking an empty space on the shelf.
“I don't know how to explain this, but the scroll with the genealogy of the human kings of the southern lands is missing,” the elf's face showed embarrassment. “Everything is catalogued. No one...”
“Perhaps someone asked for it? For example, our guest, Lord Halbrand, wanted to find out something about his ancestors...” Elrond felt his heart begin to beat faster.
“Indeed!” the elf laughed softly. “Forgive me, Lord Elrond. My mistake. That scroll was checked quite recently, at Lady Galadriel's request.”
A cold shiver ran through Elrond.
“Galadriel?” he repeated hollowly. “And... what happened to it? Did she take it?”
“One of my students delivered it to her and left it there. Lady Galadriel brought it back the very same day. She was moved, but said she had learned nothing of interest from it. She was to put it back in its place.”
Elrond stood paralysed, his gaze wandering towards the empty shelf.
“Are you sure Lady Galadriel put it back?” he asked. “Lindir, please think. Did anyone else ask to see this scroll? Perhaps... Lord Halbrand?”
The elf frowned, offended by the suggestion that something might have escaped his attention.
“Sir, I have been keeping these archives for three hundred years,” he said, straightening up. “Every scroll is in its place, and I know its history. No one has been interested in this scroll since Lady Galadriel herself put it back on the shelf. I am absolutely certain of that!”
“Did you see her put it back?” Elrond persisted.
“Lord Elrond... Master Celebrimbor summoned me. But Lady Galadriel said she would put it back,” the elf was growing increasingly irritated.
“So you did not see her,” Elrond stated.
“Are you suggesting that she... lied?” Lindir was genuinely shocked. “That Lady Galadriel hid the scroll? That is an insult, sir!”
“I am only seeking the truth!”
“The truth is that Lady Galadriel is the embodiment of honour!” growled the archivist. “Her word is more reliable than any of my catalogues! If she said she put it away, then she put it away. It must have... slipped. Or I may have accidentally moved it somewhere. But Lady Galadriel would never...”
“I understand. Forgive my curiosity,” Elrond realised he would learn no more. “I am sure you will clear this up. If you find the scroll, please let me know.”
“As you wish, my lord,” the elf turned and left Elrond alone.
His mind was racing. He couldn't even imagine her hiding evidence of Halbrand's deception. That... wasn't the Galadriel he knew. The one he knew would have thrown the scroll at Halbrand's feet and demanded an explanation. And yet... she had changed so much. Had he deceived her to such an extent that she had become an accomplice to his lie? The thought was so painful that he pushed it away. Lindir was right, and they simply had to have overlooked something.
For the rest of the night, Elrond pored over maps, chronicles, and old trade records from the South, searching for anything. He found only dull accounts of harvests and long-forgotten border disputes. He also checked all the neighbouring shelves, hoping to find a misplaced scroll, but it was nowhere to be found.
When the first light of dawn appeared in the windows of the archive, Elrond resignedly put down the last map. He was exhausted, and his search had only brought him more doubts. Tired, he left the archive and headed for his own chamber. He passed a wide intersection of corridors leading to the armoury and froze.
A dozen feet away, the guards who were supposed to be watching Halbrand were sitting on the floor. They were leaning against the wall in an unnatural position and were asleep. Elrond moved closer. There were no empty wine cups or food scraps beside them. This was no ordinary drunkenness or neglect of duty, and their sleep was unnaturally deep.
An icy shiver ran down his spine. In one moment, all his fatigue disappeared. He turned abruptly and, without caring about anything, ran straight to Galadriel's chamber. He entered without knocking, almost breaking down the door.
He was greeted by silence and immaculate order, but his gaze was immediately drawn to the empty bed. Galadriel had not spent the night here, which meant that she had spent another night with him... Elrond closed his eyes, feeling a wave of nausea. He knew where to find her, and this time he decided to confront the truth. He left and walked down the corridor, straight towards Halbrand's chamber.
***
Galadriel's sleep was deep. At first, a light she had not felt for centuries caressed her face. It was not the harsh sun of Middle-earth or the cool glow of the stars, but the unforgettable blessing of the Two Trees. Galadriel was in Tirion, at home.
In an instant, all the dirt, grief and blood of the last centuries washed away from her. She was Artanis again, and her fëa was at peace. She turned and saw that he was beside her. Her dearest Finrod. He was not a pale memory, but stood before her in reality, his stare filled with the same light she had long forgotten. He was smiling at her, and that smile was everything she had yearned for.
“Artanis... there is so much fire in you,” he said calmly. “There has always been a lot of it, but now it burns completely differently.”
“Finrod...” her voice was a stifled whisper, breaking with emotion.
Hot tears flowed down her cheeks. Without a word, he opened his arms and hugged her.
“You're here,” she snuggled into him even tighter. “I missed you so much. Brother, I... I'm so tired.”
“I know, Artanis,” he moved her away slightly, keeping his hands on her shoulders. “But you're not looking for rest anymore. You searched and found something completely different.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, surprised.
“You've always searched for the light,” he said, his voice growing sadder. “Now you think you've found it in a man, but there is a fire within him that only consumes. It will burn you from the inside until there is nothing left but ashes.”
“What...? You don't understand!” she protested violently, and the vision of Tirion faded for a moment. “He... he is real. He is warm. I have been alone for so long, Finrod. I was so terribly cold. And he... he burns.”
“That is precisely what I fear,” he let her go and took a step back. “The fire you know, Artanis, our fire, creates, gives life and warms. But you know very well that there is another kind of fire.”
“That's not true!” she cried, feeling the familiar surge of anger and the same passion that Halbrand aroused in her. “You... You left me! You don't know what it's like there. You don't know what it means to fight in the darkness when there is no light left!”
“Sister... Do you even know who you are holding in your arms? Who you have invited into your soul?” asked Finrod.
“Yes, I know he is human and has done bad things, but you do not know him and you have no right to judge him!”
“Have you already forgotten that I gave my life for a human? I have known the fear and courage of humans, their cruelty and tenderness. I am not saying this to take anything away from you. Loving fire is not a crime, but tell me, Artanis... Do you still remember how to tell the flame that gives life from the fever that takes it away?”
“Finrod, stop! You're scaring me!”
“You should be afraid,” he whispered and reached out to her. “You feel his power and you know that he will not be satisfied with your body. He will want your name, your light and your loyalty. Everything. If you choose him, you will have to pay a price greater than the one I paid. And it's not about your life...”
“I mean... what?” she whispered. “What will I lose?”
“You will only understand when you get burned,” his voice became strangely distant.
“Finrod, wait!” she wanted to grab his hand, but when his fingers brushed her skin, she cried out in pain.
His touch was not warm, but icy, and the pain that arose was so piercing, as if she had touched the Void itself...
Galadriel awoke with a quiet cry. The pain was gone, but the fear remained. She was completely confused. She was lying on her side, Halbrand's muscular arm wrapped around her waist, pressing her back against his warm chest. His leg was entwined around her legs, immobilising her. What had been bliss in the darkness of night was now, in the light of morning, a disgrace and a trap.
With a strength she didn't know she possessed, she broke free from his embrace. She pushed him away and jumped out of bed, standing on the cold stone floor. Her sudden movement woke him. He opened his eyes and immediately focused on her with the alertness of a predator. Before he had a chance to sit down, he saw her dart toward the bed, reaching for the sheet to cover herself.
Her fingers clenched the edge of the fabric, but he was just as quick and grabbed the same piece of crumpled linen tightly. A provocative smile appeared on his lips. He did not try to take it from her by force, but simply held it and waited to see what she would do. His gaze lingered on her breasts without a hint of embarrassment, then moved lower. He revelled in her nakedness and shame. When Galadriel noticed this, she let out a wild cry and tugged at the sheet with all her strength. Surprised by her determination, he let go.
She backed up against the wall and wrapped herself in the sheet, curling up like a trapped animal. Her heart was pounding so loudly that it drowned out all other sounds. Only then did Halbrand, with deliberate nonchalance, lower his legs to the floor and then stand up. He stood before her naked and shamelessly perfect.
Galadriel took a step back, pressing her back against the cold wall. The sheet was a pitiful protection. She tried desperately to look away, but she couldn't. Against her will and panic, she admired how the morning light carved shadows on his shoulders, stomach and penis. His body was brutally masculine and exuded strength and primal heat.
Halbrand saw the same hunger in her that he had felt in her during the night. He thought it would be easy to turn her morning embarrassment into desire. He moved slowly towards her, allowing her to watch.
“Just ask, Queen. The night isn't over yet, if...” he didn't finish, because he saw her terror.
His smile immediately faded. He realised that this was not a game and that something had really frightened her. All the mocking arrogance disappeared from his face, replaced by deep concern.
“Galadriel?” he said gently. “What happened?”
“Don't touch me!” she snapped, though her voice trembled.
He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender and moved towards her, approaching her as if she were a frightened horse.
“You woke up as if a dragon were chasing you. Please... you're safe with me...”
“It's... it's all...” she searched for words, choking on humiliation and rage. “What... what did you do to me? What did you do that night, Halbrand?”
His face twisted in pain. He was so authentic that for a moment he shook her confidence.
“What did I do?” he repeated, as if hurt by the very sound of the words. “I didn't take you by force, Galadriel. I'm not the monster you want to make me out to be to justify your own shame and fear.”
“Be quiet!” she snapped. “You know nothing about my fear.”
He ignored her words, took another step towards her and reached out to brush a strand of her tousled hair with his fingers, but then she stepped back abruptly.
“Galadriel, you're shaking all over,” he whispered, but his tone was full of tenderness. “Please. What scared you so much? I didn't force you to do anything, but... did I hurt you?”
That question completely threw her off balance. He took the blame upon himself, making her out to be a creature who rejected his concern.
“No! You didn't... I... I had a dream,” she blurted out before she had time to think.
“A dream?” he knew he had hit the nail on the head. “It was just a nightmare, my dear. It's over now. I'm here with you.”
“You don't understand!” she cried desperately, tears welling up in her eyes. “It was... he was there...”
“Who?” he pressed gently.
“My brother,” she whispered finally, and she didn't know why the confession felt like a betrayal.
Halbrand froze. Finrod... He remembered well the proud prince who had been ripped apart by his wolves in the darkness of Tol-in-Gaurhoth. This was getting dangerous. Her fëa, after a night spent with him, instead of surrendering, had reached for her greatest protector. He had to regain control immediately.
“Your brother? I thought he was dead. You told me he died in the war”
She nodded, unable to speak.
“My dearest...” he began, his voice like balm. “It was only a dream. Born of your pain.”
“No!” she protested. “He warned me and spoke of fire. That the heat I feel... that it would burn me from within...”
“He warned you?” he asked with concern. “Of what? Of me? Of the man who... would give anything to see you happy?”
“I... I don't know,” she admitted, her anger fading, replaced by exhaustion.
“I understand that it's difficult,” he said, carefully placing his hand on her shoulder. “For centuries, you've been alone and fighting. Now... you've allowed someone to get close to you. And that scares you. It's natural for your mind to look for reasons to reject it. To return to what is safe. To the pain you know.”
She clenched her fingers on the sheet.
“Your brother was a hero,” he continued with increasing boldness. “He fought for the light. Do you think he would want you to spend the rest of eternity in the shadow of his death? Wouldn't he want you to finally allow yourself... to feel something else? To feel life?”
Without waiting for her answer, he embraced her and pulled her close. He pressed her head against his bare chest, and his hand began to gently stroke her hair.
“Besides...” he murmured, rocking her gently. “Tell me, Galadriel... have you ever pulled your hand back from a flame just because someone warned you?”
Galadriel trembled in his arms. Her fear and shame slowly melted away in his warmth and soothing touch. He held her tightly, hiding his face in her hair.
“I don't know who to listen to anymore,” she admitted quietly.
“Then forget that dream,” he whispered. “It was an illusion, and I am real. What we felt is real.”
“An illusion?!” she pulled away from him abruptly.
“Galadriel?” Halbrand looked at her in surprise.
“Now I understand everything!” she growled, “There is someone who is afraid that I will find him and take revenge on him. Who would have thought that after a night spent with you... I would be defenceless and lost! Someone who wants me to reject my only chance for... happiness and victory over the forces of darkness!”
“Who are you talking about?” he asked cautiously.
“Who?!” she laughed bitterly, her face contorted with hatred. “The one who is the master of illusion! The one who knows how to poison the minds of elves and men. Only he could use my brother's face to turn me against you! It was Sauron...”
The moment she spoke that name, she felt a spasm run through his body. His breathing became uneven. The man who had radiated strength and possessive confidence just a moment ago now stood with his eyes downcast and his hands clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Her hatred immediately gave way to fear, and she began to frantically piece together the facts. His dark past and now this reaction...
“Halbrand...” she trembled, afraid of his answer. “You told me about your past. About all the bad things you did when you served the darkness... Have you... have you heard that name before?”
He raised his empty, dark eyes to her and said nothing for a long time. It seemed as if he was searching for words, but in reality he was choosing which truths he could tell without tearing his lie to shreds.
“I've heard that name many times...” he said finally. “I've seen the signs of his reign, though I may not have understood them at the time...”
“And what did you do then?” she interrupted him. “Did you stand aside? Or... did you serve him?”
A shadow of resignation appeared on his face.
“I served anyone who seemed to have a plan while the rest were drowning in chaos,” he replied honestly. “I served cowards, convenience, and my own pride. That's enough for you to consider me someone who deserves your contempt. Do you really need to add Sauron to make the story complete for you?”
“You haven't answered the question,” she noted. “Did you ever swear allegiance to him?”
Halbrand closed his eyes for a split second, and various memories came back to him.
“I swear I never knelt before Sauron, but if you want to condemn me for being part of that world, I won't defend myself. In the South, we all served him, though many didn't even know the name of their master.”
He wasn't lying. She knew that. Every word he said was true.
“Halbrand...” she whispered, and terror took her breath away.
He was silent and sat on the edge of the bed like someone who had suddenly lost the strength in his legs. He turned sideways to her, his shoulders tense.
“That's why I begged you to let me go. I warned you so many times that I was a bad man, but you wouldn't let me go. You brought me to these halls, to this forge, and... to your bed. And now I'm one of his dogs to you,” he laughed briefly, without a trace of merriment.
“Halbrand, I... I didn't...” she stammered, completely taken aback.
Galadriel saw that his back was shaking. She couldn't leave him like that. Not after what had happened. She sat down next to him on the bed and for a moment wasn't sure if she had the right to touch him. Finally, however, she dared to place her hand on his back. She began to stroke him slowly, timidly.
The man turned his head, and she saw that his face was wet and tears were streaming down his cheeks. Galadriel held her breath. She had seen his pretended pain, his wounded pride and strategic despair. This was real.
Halbrand looked at her, his gaze filled with complete incomprehension. He was furious at his body's betrayal. He had manipulated her so that she would not reject him, but he had not planned this. These tears were against his will, born from a place so deep and dark that even he had no access to it.
“Halbrand... if I really wanted to see only evil in you, I wouldn't have come here tonight. I don't know how much truth there is in your words, but I know one thing. If you ever served Sauron, even unknowingly... he has no power over you now!”
When he understood the meaning of her words, his natural reaction was to escape. Not into lies, but into something he had always been best at, into closeness that suppressed his thoughts. He felt her warmth, the scent of her skin, and that absolute, pure acceptance. And it destroyed him.
Before she knew it, she was lying on the bed and he was kissing her. It wasn't the passion of a lover, but the blind fury of a creature caught in a trap. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her desperately, wanting to drown out this moment of weakness, lose himself in her and escape the truth about himself. His teeth scraped painfully against her lips, and her mouth filled with the salty taste of his tears. She tried to respond to his fury, but he was too strong and wild. At one point, he let go of her face and grabbed her arm, squeezing it with such force that he could have crushed the bone.
“Oww!” a muffled cry of pain escaped her throat.
She began to struggle, fighting back with all her strength. Her pain finally pierced through the fog of his panic. He pulled away abruptly, as if he himself was terrified of what he had done. Dark marks from his fingers immediately began to appear on the pale skin of her arm. He saw the bruises and her terrified face. A cruel, pain-filled grimace appeared on his lips.
“Your dream was real. That's what I do. I destroy everything I touch”
He stood up and turned his back on her, ready to sink back into the role of a monster, because that role was safe. But Galadriel surprised him. She was still sitting on the bed, holding her aching arm. Her eyes were wide open, but there was no fear in them. There was only painful understanding.
“No,” she said quietly but firmly, “It wasn't you. It was your pain. Your past. That... darkness you served. I know it. I know it like no one else.”
She slowly got up from the bed, still wrapped in the sheet, and approached him.
“Don't try to push me away, and remember that I will never let Sauron separate us,” she stood in front of him and placed her hand on his chest, just above his heart. “Do you hear me, Halbrand? Together we will defeat him. I promise you.”
The man looked at her in disbelief, because everything had turned out in a way he had not expected. He had just bound her to himself inextricably. Galadriel had willingly entered his darkness, convinced that she carried light. They stood there for a moment, when suddenly she noticed that dawn was turning into morning, which brutally reminded her of the world outside.
“I have to go,” she whispered and slipped out of his embrace.
He was overcome by a sudden, irrational fear. He had lost control, he had cried, and now she was leaving, abandoning him with this humiliation.
“No!” he grabbed her hand before she could pull away. “Not now. Not after this.”
“Halbrand, please,” her voice was stronger this time. “If someone notices I've been gone all night...”
“Let them notice,” he said, and that dangerous, possessive note returned to his voice. “Let them see that you're mine.”
He wanted to pull her back, silence her protests with a kiss, but she slipped away from him.
“No!” her reaction was sharper than he had expected. “This is madness. Gil-galad ordered that you be kept under guard. If they find me here at dawn...”
Her pride fought with her shame. She walked over to where her crumpled dress and slip lay on the floor. She let go of the sheet, allowing it to fall to the ground. For a split second, she stood naked, her back to him, in the pale morning light. Halbrand froze. The sight of her back, the line of her spine disappearing into the delicate hollow above her buttocks, was a blow that took his breath away.
Galadriel felt his burning gaze on her back, so she began to get dressed. She grabbed her slip and pulled it over her head. The thin silk clung to her still warm skin. She reached for the dress that lay crumpled next to the bed and threw it on nervously, but before she could reach the ties at the back, she felt his hands. His hot body was almost pressed against her back, separated only by a thin layer of silk slip.
“Let me,” he whispered, while his hot breath brushed her ear. “You’re so tense...”
He found the silk ribbon and his fingers began to slowly, methodically tie it. His possessive touch was torture. Deliberately, with every movement, his fingertips brushed her skin just beside the fabric.
“My dearest, why are you in such a hurry?” he continued in a whisper, his lips finding her neck.
“Halbrand, stop...” she gasped as his lips brushed her skin.
“Should I stop?” he laughed softly. “I've only just begun. I can still smell myself on you. I know you're wet for me.”
He pulled the ribbons tighter and pressed his naked lower abdomen against her buttocks so that she had no doubt that his penis was hard again. When he finished tying her dress, his hands slid down to her hips and he pulled her even closer to him.
“Stay,” he murmured. “Let me have you one more time. Let's forget everything. We only have this moment.”
His voice was hypnotising and promised a return to the madness in which she was drowning. She closed her eyes because her body, treacherous and burning, was already beginning to succumb to him. But the dream of Finrod was too fresh, and she had to stop it. She gathered her last reserves of strength. She placed her hands on his, which held her in an embrace.
“No!” she said firmly. “In three days, I will be your wife.”
His lips froze on her neck. Galadriel turned in his arms, coming face to face with him. She had to lift her head to look at him.
“Then we won't have to hide, and I'll be yours. All yours. But not now. Not like this...”
He didn't want to let her go when the instinct in his body screamed to tear off her dress, push her back onto the bed and make love to her until she forgot her own name. However, he understood that if he gave in now, he would not lose, but tighten the noose.
“You're right,” he said softly, like someone who recognises the reasonableness of a sensible decision, even though he has no intention of respecting it. “Marriage will change everything.”
He brushed her lower lip with his thumb. A shiver ran down her spine, even though the gesture was so innocent that it could have been mistaken for a simple caress.
“When you are my wife, you will no longer have to run away, Galadriel. Because you won't want to. And then you will be all mine. Your every thought, every breath, and every moment you look at me...”
Some of those words sounded like something she wanted, but there was something else in his words. Something that felt like a chain wrapped around her throat, so light that it was almost invisible until someone pulled on it.
“I've told you before, I'm not anyone's property!”
“I know, but tell me honestly... when were you truly yourself tonight? At the feast with the other elves, or when you lost yourself in pleasure beneath me, unable to remember your own name?”
She was at a loss for words. She wanted to slap him and kiss him at the same time. In the end, she did neither, but carefully moved out of his arms. His hand did not reach for her again. Halbrand stood still, with that predatory smile on his lips.
“Go then... while you still can.”
“While I still can?” she repeated sharply.
“While you still believe you need to,” he replied, not taking his eyes off her. “When you are my wife, we won't have to pretend there is a way back.”
Galadriel did not answer him, because she was afraid that if she did, she would eventually succumb to him and stay. She carefully opened the door. The corridor was empty, so she slipped out of the chamber. She breathed a sigh of relief, but she knew she couldn't go back the main way. Guards or servants might already be lurking there. She turned into a side passage she had never walked down before. Every distant sound made her freeze. Finally, she reached her chamber, slipped inside, and turned the key in the lock. She leaned her back against the door and tried to calm her breathing. She succeeded. No one knew where she had spent this night.
***
Halbrand stared for a long moment at the closed door behind which Galadriel had disappeared. He had won, because now he was her lover, and no elf or Valar could take that away from him. He knew that much deeper, their souls had truly touched. They had intertwined for a moment, and it could not be undone.
It intoxicated and terrified him. He ran his hand over his face, trying to wipe away all traces of the night, and took a few steps, not bothering to get dressed. He was the master of his own body, which had just received the purest elven light, and he should have felt proud. Instead, a strange weight appeared under his breastbone, as if someone had slipped a cold piece of metal there. He stood by the chest where he kept his belongings. He searched mindlessly for a moment until his fingers finally found soft fabric.
He remembered another night in this chamber. Her trembling body when he first kissed and savoured her sweet pussy. All that remained was this small souvenir, a sign that he had crossed another boundary. He pulled it out slowly, like a treasure. The delicate piece of fabric between his fingers looked so innocent. He held the material to his face and was intoxicated by the scent of the creature whose body had opened up to him. It was the scent of her absolute submission.
Once again, something he hated happened. Desire took control of him, asking no questions about his plan or strategy. He wanted to be inside her, harder, deeper, until there was nothing left. For a moment, he let his thoughts flow. He saw her kneeling before him, not as a slave, but as a queen who had decided for herself to whom she would give power over her body. He felt her hands and lips on his skin. In his imagination, there was none of the brutality he was accustomed to, but instead a dark tenderness that frightened him more than any violence. It was a fire that not only burned Galadriel. It threatened to burn him too.
His whole body responded to this vision with irritating, human sincerity. He had always despised it because it reacted too easily to stimuli. And now each of these limitations became a source of pleasure that he did not allow himself to feel. His fingers clenched the fabric and for a few seconds his thoughts were out of control. Then something inside him snapped.
“What have I done...” he growled to himself through clenched teeth.
The underwear he held in his hand was like evidence of a crime. After all, he hadn't escaped the justice of the Valar to end up as some pathetic mortal fantasising over a piece of fabric that smelled of an elf. His goal was power. Order. To control the chaos she represented, not drown in it. She was merely a useful tool and... a light that pierced through every darkness he had ever experienced.
The excitement vanished in one moment. Halbrand looked at the delicate silk in his hand with disgust. He crumpled it and threw it carelessly onto the bed. He had to focus. This obsession was a weakness, and he did not tolerate weakness. He slowly bowed his head and closed his eyes for a moment. In the dim light, he looked like someone standing between two paths, unable to choose either.
Just then, there was a knock at the door.
For a split second, he was sure it was Galadriel. She couldn't even last an hour. She came back because she was already addicted to him. That pathetic moment of weakness had just turned into his greatest victory. Completely confident, he moved across the room. He yanked the door open, ready to pull her inside and show her what happens when you break your promises, but...
Elrond was standing in the doorway. His face, pale with fatigue and determination, was now flushed with a dark blush of shame. The sight of the naked man was a shock, but what was worse was Halbrand's complete lack of embarrassment. The man did not move or try to cover himself. He stood in the open doorway, blocking the entrance, while his face twisted into a contemptuous, provocative smile. He was revelling in it.
“Lord Elrond…” he greeted him with theatrical politeness. “Isn't it too early for such a visit?’
The elf swallowed and forced himself to focus on his face rather than the rest of his body, which, though different from his own, had a brutal, uncouth strength about it.
“I need to talk to you,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm. “It's a matter that cannot wait.”
“Come in. As you can see, I have... nothing to hide.” Halbrand opened the door wider and stepped back into the chamber.
Elrond hesitantly crossed the threshold. The man closed the door behind him, plunging the chamber into semi-darkness. He leaned against the wall next to it, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Aren't you going to... get dressed?” the elf asked cautiously, still standing by the door.
“Does it bother you?” Halbrand shrugged. “Forgive me, but among humans, nudity is no cause for panic. I assumed elves thought the same, but perhaps... you are simply afraid of what you see?”
This audacity finally broke Elrond's shock. With fury replacing his embarrassment, he looked up and gave Halbrand an icy stare.
“I came here to find the truth,” he growled.
“The truth?” Halbrand laughed. “So you are not lacking in courage, Lord Elrond... Go ahead and seek your truth.”
“As you know, Galadriel is dear to me,” Elrond said quietly. “You are to be her husband, but you are an mystery. And I do not like mysteries standing beside her with a mithril ring on their finger.”
The corner of Halbrand's mouth twitched.
“If I am a mystery, ask whatever you wish, and you may get an answer.”
“Who are you?” burst from Elrond faster than he intended.
“I already told your king,” he replied calmly. “I am Halbrand. A man. King of the South by necessity and a blacksmith by choice.”
“You're lying!”
Halbrand tilted his head.
“Those are bold words for someone who entered my chamber at dawn, when I am naked and completely defenceless,” he remarked gently. “If you believe your suspicions so strongly... why don't you take them straight to Gil-galad?”
“Because I want to hear the truth from you!”
“Look at me,” he said cautiously. “I am just a man who has done too much and is now trying... to start over.”
“You are not a man. Gil-galad's guards were asleep in the corridor. Was it magic?”
“Didn't you think they might have just been tired? Guarding a prisoner is such a thankless job.” Halbrand shrugged. “Your king should choose his people for responsible tasks more carefully.”
“Enough of these games!” Elrond shook with rage. “Where is she?!”
Halbrand raised his eyebrows in a perfectly feigned gesture of surprise.
“Galadriel? Probably where a future queen of the South should be. In her chamber. After all... I was guarded by Gil-galad's guards. You saw for yourself how they escorted me out of the feast, and I only learned of their indisposition from you a moment ago.”
These words were so insolent and arrogant that Elrond fell silent. He turned away from him, trying to get his thoughts together, and then he saw it. A delicate piece of silk lay on the crumpled bedding. It must have been her underwear. Elrond felt the blood drain from his face.
“And... and this?” he asked, while his trembling hand rose and pointed at the bed. “What is this?!”
Halbrand followed his gaze. He looked at the underwear, then back at Elrond, and his face took on an expression of the deepest, most false tenderness.
“Ah, that...” he said softly, walking over to the bed and picking up the panties. “It’s a gift.”
“A gift?” Elrond repeated, feeling nauseous.
“From my fiancée. Lord Elrond, your King has condemned me to loneliness, but Galadriel... she is so... caring. She knew I would miss her.”
He twirled the fabric between his fingers, then, with deliberate slowness, pressed it to his face and inhaled her scent, closing his eyes in feigned ecstasy.
“She gave it to me,” he continued after a moment and his voice was now a low, sensual murmur. “So that I would remember her, even when she is not here.”
“But...” the elf's mind was unable to process the enormity of this perversion.
“Lord Elrond, you look as if you are about to choke on your own indignation. Tell me, how long have you loved her? How many years have you treated her like a star you are not allowed to touch?”
“Be silent! How dare you...”
“...speak the truth?” Halbrand interrupted him. “You can worship and protect her. But you will never see her give herself to pleasure. That privilege is reserved exclusively for me.”
The chamber was completely silent. Elrond stood motionless, his fists clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his palms.
“You monster!” the elf's voice was low and trembling with barely contained rage. “I swear by the light of Eärendil that before this wedding happens, I will discover who you are and destroy you!”
Halbrand listened to him, his arrogant confidence slowly fading. He did not look frightened, but disappointed. He knew it was a bluff, but he understood something else. This elf was not just a fool in love.
“You will destroy me?” he asked, and his tone was full of deep, wounded sadness. “Lord Elrond. I always thought you were wise. A... friend. And you are so... blind.”
“Spare me your lies!”
“It's not a lie!” Halbrand protested. “It's the truth you refuse to see! You say you want to save her, but you hate her.”
“What…?!”
“You hate that after centuries of being a shadow, she is finally happy! You hate that she chose a mere man and not you! You couldn't have her, so now you'd rather destroy her than see her belong to someone else!”
“That's a disgusting lie!”
“Is it?” Halbrand approached him. “Fine. Go ahead. Do it. Destroy me. Tell everyone what you saw here, but think about what will happen then. Who will you really be destroying?”
Elrond hesitated.
“Me?” Halbrand smiled mockingly. “I'm just a man from the South. They already despise me. But her...? Will you tell them that Lady Galadriel sneaked into my chamber at night? That she spent it in my bed? That she begged me to make love to her?”
“She would never...”
“In doing so, you will dishonour her before both our races. You will take away her honour, her position, everything she has fought for over hundreds of years. You will turn her into the target of gossip and contempt.” He paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in. “And she will hate you for it. Because you couldn't bear her happiness and chose to destroy her rather than let her live.”
Elrond stood paralysed. Every word was a monstrous, twisted lie, and yet... it struck at the truth. He realised he was trapped.
“Who are you?” he whispered.
“I am the only one who does not judge her. And you? You came here as her judge and executioner. So go. Pass your sentence, Lord Elrond. Let's see if you have the courage to lose her forever.”
Elrond couldn't breathe, and suddenly the air in the chamber seemed too thick and hot. He couldn't let Halbrand win like this. He turned and headed for the door.
“Perhaps you are right,” he paused on the threshold, “but I prefer her hatred to her dishonour. I will do everything in my power to prevent you from becoming her husband. I swear it!”
Elrond left, slamming the door behind him. Halbrand stood silently for a moment, his smile slowly disappearing. This elf was more dangerous than he had assumed.
Chapter 12
Notes:
They say that truth sets you free. But in Eregion, truth has become the most dangerous weapon. In this chapter, Elrond discovers the terrifying secret behind the creation of the rings, but learns that knowledge alone is not enough to defeat someone who can manipulate even the purest of hearts.
Meanwhile, Galadriel struggles with her own desires. Will she recognise evil when she holds it in her arms, or will she believe in another perfect lie?
Sorry for any mistakes - English is not my native language.
Chapter Text
Elrond could not calm down. Not after the conversation in which Halbrand stripped him of his illusions as shamelessly as he stood naked before him. He desperately needed facts. Something that would break through the wall of lies with which Halbrand had surrounded Galadriel and all of Eregion. Unfortunately, he found nothing in the archives, the guards proved useless, and his friend's honour had just died in the bedroom of the King of the South. There was only one place left where the truth could not be hidden behind beautiful words. Where metal did not lie, and fire burned away all manipulation. He went to the forge.
When he pushed open the heavy doors, a wave of heat hit him, but he knew he was safe. The interior of the forge was shrouded in semi-darkness. The furnaces glowed only with a sleepy orange light that cast long shadows on the walls. Tools lay scattered in disorder, showing evidence of feverish work.
Elrond stepped deeper inside, though he himself did not know what he was looking for. He slowly ran his hand over the cool anvil. He sensed an echo of powerful energy in it, which sent a shiver down his spine. This was the birthplace of something that could save Middle-earth... or destroy it.
“Elrond?” Celebrimbor unexpectedly appeared out of the darkness.
His robes were stained with soot and burnt in several places. His face was pale, his eyes ringed with dark circles, and they glowed with a feverish, fanatical light, for the adrenaline of the creator still coursed through his veins.
“Celebrimbor...” Elrond bowed slightly, trying to hide his tension. “I thought you would retire after the feast. Your work is now finished.”
“Finished?” the elf laughed softly. “Art is never finished, my friend. It merely... pauses in anticipation. And I still hear the song of mithril. The way it blended with gold... it was like the birth of a star.”
Elrond looked at him closely. There was something disturbing about Celebrimbor's behaviour. Too much excitement and too little reason.
“It is a powerful work,” he admitted cautiously, approaching closer. “But every power has its price. Tell me... how did this happen? How did you manage to achieve the impossible in such a short time?”
Celebrimbor's gaze wandered somewhere far away, beyond the walls of the forge.
“It wasn't a matter of time, Elrond. It was a matter of... understanding,” he said with inspiration. “We were blind. You were there when we tried to force mithril to obey us, using our strength and pride. And he... showed me another way.”
“He?” Elrond felt his heart skip a beat. “You mean Halbrand?”
“Yes,” Celebrimbor nodded appreciatively. “That man... his gift is extraordinary. He sees things we cannot see. He understood that mithril must not be forced. It must be... seduced. Connected to something that will allow it to unite, not fight.”
Elrond leaned against the table, feeling faint. The smith's words perfectly matched what he had seen in the bedroom. He understood that Halbrand had not only seduced Galadriel.
“Seduce...” he repeated bitterly. “That is a dangerous word in craftsmanship, master. But are you sure that nothing unusual happened? That at this frantic pace... you kept absolute purity? That nothing entered the alloy that could taint the light of Valinor?”
The question was accurate. Celebrimbor flinched, and his gaze, previously fixed on the distance, returned abruptly to Elrond. However, beneath the flash of anger, Elrond saw something that resembled a shadow of guilt.
“Are you suggesting that I cannot keep the alloy pure?” Celebrimbor exclaimed indignantly, raising his voice. “That I would destroy Galadriel’s gift through carelessness? Everything was perfect! Gold, silver, mithril… Every ingredient was of the highest quality! I felt as though I were touching the most sacred memories of Valinor…”
“I do not doubt your skills, Celebrimbor,” Elrond persisted, moving closer, sensing weakness in this vehement defence. “However, you were working in haste and under great pressure. In such moments, mistakes and accidents happen.”
“There were no mistakes!” cried the smith. “There was only... a moment of crisis. When the alloy was at a most unstable point and the temperature rose too quickly. I thought all was lost. But Halbrand... It was an accident... He accidentally cut his hand. A few drops of blood fell into the crucible. I should have stopped and destroyed everything, but we had no more mithril and there was no turning back. I swear to you, Elrond, it was an accident. But from that moment on... I knew I had broken my promise to Galadriel.”
“What promise?” asked Elrond, shaken by the confession.
“I promised her that I alone would touch the alloy. Understand... it... it... doesn't matter! It was just a few drops! The fire was so hot that everything evaporated immediately! Nothing remained! The metal is pure, Elrond, I swear to you!” there was panic in Celebrimbor's eyes, that of someone who had just realised he had said too much.
“So human blood mixed with mithril and the light of Valinor?” Elrond tried to remain calm. “Surely you could not have foreseen this, master. Accidents happen... But are you sure nothing has changed?”
“Fire purifies everything, and his intentions were clear. Halbrand saved the rings. It was a sacrifice, not a contamination,” the smith shook his head with the stubbornness of someone who had been repeating the same version of events to himself for a long time.
Celebrimbor's words sounded honest, but Elrond, contrary to logic, felt increasing anxiety. His intuition told him not to leave the matter alone, but he understood that there was no basis for any accusation. Anyone who knew the details would consider it an unfortunate coincidence.
“I believe you, Celebrimbor, and thank you for your honesty,” he said, with a note of resignation in his voice. “I would like to believe that nothing bad has happened. If anything unusual happens in the forge again... please let me know.”
“Of course,” Celebrimbor nodded. “Please... Elrond, you have always been prudent. Halbrand is a man. A craftsman with a good eye and skilled hands.”
Elrond remembered Halbrand standing naked in the doorway of the chamber, his shameless smile and her underwear on the bed.
“Let us hope you are right,” he replied. “For the sake of us all.”
Elrond absorbed the smells of the forge for a moment longer, as if trying to remember something. Then he turned and slowly made his way towards the exit. He left Calebrimbor alone with the fire, which suddenly seemed less familiar to him than ever before.
***
When Elrond's footsteps faded into the depths of the corridor, Halbrand did not immediately return to his tasks. He stood motionless, while his mind, like a precision mechanism, broke down every word that had been spoken in that brief, heated exchange. The elf was furious, desperate, and more astute than he had assumed. But it was not Elrond's threats that interested Halbrand, but his words about Gil-galad's guards being asleep.
He knew he hadn't put them to sleep. Apart from making rings, he hadn't used magic since arriving in Eregion, because he was too cautious to leave traces that the elves could sense. And yet, two guards were asleep, allowing Galadriel to enter his chamber. It was no accident. He looked at his hand, where Narya glowed. He could feel its quiet pulsing, like the beating of a second heart. And then he thought of Galadriel, who wore Nenya. A smile full of dark satisfaction stretched his lips.
Galadriel, for the first time, consciously or not, reached for the power of the Ring. She used its magic, which he had helped to seal within the metal. She hid her presence and bent reality to her will, just to get to him. This thought was more exciting than the memory of her touch. It was the ultimate proof that they were not different. That she, also, had a need to dominate, to shape Middle-earth according to her will. She had tasted power over weaker minds, and it was more addictive than wine.
He had to see her and find out if she understood. Did she feel the Ring on her finger warming up under the influence of power? He should be with her and show her how much more she could do. He hurriedly grabbed his tunic and trousers and got dressed. He could see himself confronting her with this new discovery, and their bond growing even stronger.
He was about to open the door when he suddenly stopped, because the fever that was driving him collided with an icy wall of calculation. If he went to her now, excited that she had used magic... it would show that he knew suspiciously much and... that he was fascinated by her. He remembered how he had almost begged her to stay because his desire had clouded his judgement. He was the ruler and architect of the new order. He couldn't behave like a faithful dog, reacting to his mistress's every gesture. It was Galadriel who had used magic and broken the rules to come to him. It was her downfall.
She should be left alone with her new power. Let it terrify and tempt her in solitude. Power is about restraint. About being the desire, not the one who desires. Halbrand turned and walked over to the mirror. He adjusted the collar of his tunic and saw cool, calculated confidence in his reflection. He would wait for her and be ready. It was the right game, and he was the one dealing the cards.
He slowly approached the bed and picked up the silk piece of fabric which he had discarded earlier. He turned it over in his fingers for a moment, then put it away in a chest. He expected that this keepsake might still be useful to him.
He did not want to draw unnecessary attention to himself, so he decided to go to the forge as he did every day. When he entered, he was struck by the silence, so different from the usual hustle and bustle of work. Celebrimbor stood at the table, staring at a blank sheet of parchment. He looked a hundred years older than he had yesterday. His hands trembled as he held a piece of metal in them thoughtlessly. Halbrand stopped at the entrance and watched him for a moment. He could see the fear and guilt that tormented the elf.
“Master Celebrimbor,” he said, approaching him, “Is something bothering you? You look as if you are carrying the weight of Middle-earth on your shoulders.”
The elf jumped violently, and Halbrand saw pure panic in his eyes.
“Halbrand...” he breathed heavily, trying to put on a mask of calm, “I... I didn't expect you. I thought you were preparing for your wedding to Galadriel.”
“Yes, but that doesn't mean I'll abandon my work in the forge and my friend in need. I can see that something has happened. Have you noticed a flaw in the rings?” the man looked at him closely and asked the question deliberately.
“No! The rings are perfect! It's not them... It's...” the elf broke off and looked away.
“Then what is it? Has someone questioned your craftsmanship?”
Celebrimbor was an artist, not a liar. He couldn't bear the weight of the secret when faced with someone like Halbrand.
“Elrond was here recently,” he whispered.
“And?” Halbrand was growing increasingly concerned.
“He asked about how the rings were made. About you... He pressed me. He noticed I was hiding something.”
“And what did you tell him?” the man's voice was dangerously low now.
“I had no choice!” moaned the blacksmith. “He sensed it! I had to tell him what happened... about the accident with your blood.”
“You fool!” Halbrand slammed his fist onto the heavy oak table with such force that the tools lying on it jumped up and scattered across the floor. “We had an agreement! You swore to keep quiet!”
The fire in the nearly extinguished furnace suddenly burst into an unnatural, high flame, casting eerie shadows on Halbrand's face. For a moment, he did not look like the handsome king of the South. He was pure destructive fury. The darkness that filled the room seemed to suffocate the light coming through the windows. Celebrimbor stumbled backwards, tripping over his own feet, and looked at Halbrand with genuine terror. He had never seen such anger in a mortal.
“Halbrand...” stammered the elf, turning pale. “Please... I...”
It was only Celebrimbor's fear that restored the man's control. He realised he had gone too far. Another moment and he would have shown him his true face. He clenched his hands into fists and took a deep breath. The fire in the furnace died down as quickly as it had flared up. The shadows returned to their places. Halbrand closed his eyes, and when he opened them, the rage was gone. It was replaced by an expression of deep regret. He bent down and began to pick up the tools he had thrown on the floor. He did it slowly, with a humility that was in stark contrast to the strength he had just demonstrated.
“Forgive me... Forgive me, master. I lost control. It's the stress... the pressure... Fear for Galadriel...” he approached the terrified elf, but this time his movements were cautious and without threat. “Emotions are a poor advisor in the forge, but I feel so helpless. I'm afraid Elrond... won't understand.”
“Why?” the elf asked, still recovering from what had happened. “It was an accident. The fire purified the blood. Elrond is wise, he...”
“Elrond is jealous,” Halbrand interrupted, and there was such conviction in his voice that Celebrimbor blinked in surprise.
“Jealous? Of what? That the ring went to you?”
“About Galadriel,” Halbrand replied without hesitation. “He is her friend, but she chose me as something more. Elrond cannot bear it. He cannot bear the thought that she gave her heart to a man. A being he considers worse and unclean.”
He lowered his head and fell silent for a moment.
“That's why he came here. He wasn't looking for the truth about the rings. He was looking for anything to destroy me. To prove to Galadriel that I was unworthy. That I had tainted her ring, just as, in his opinion, I had tainted her.”
Celebrimbor frowned. This explanation did not fit with the image of the friend he knew.
“That... that doesn't sound like Elrond,” he protested cautiously. “He is a Peredhel, Halbrand. The blood of both our races flows in his veins. His brother was the first king of men. Elrond has always been fair and free of prejudice. I do not believe he would despise you simply because you are mortal.”
Halbrand smiled with a sadness that seemed to be born of long years of experiencing contempt.
“You know him better than I do, and you're probably right... But consider that Elrond chose immortality. He rejected the human part of his nature to become an elf. He spent centuries building his position and wisdom. That is why he is friendly to humans, as long as we know our place and are allies. But now it's different.” Halbrand spread his hands. “Now Galadriel has willingly chosen a man. Someone who bleeds, makes mistakes and... dies.”
Celebrimbor was silent, analysing these words. He remembered Elrond's expression when he spoke of Halbrand and the rings. There was more than concern in it. There was... disgust.
“Perhaps you are right...” the elf muttered reluctantly. “He has always been protective of her. But if he truly believes that a man is not worthy to wear these rings, nor to be with her...”
“My friend... I must confess something else,” Halbrand interrupted him. “Elrond burst into my chamber this morning, looking for Galadriel, as if she needed to be rescued from a beast. He is terrified of losing control over her, so he is trying to destroy me, the only person who gives her freedom. Now I fear he will use this accident in the forge. He will convince Gil-galad that the rings are unclean, simply because a man has touched them. That they must be destroyed, or taken from us...”
Celebrimbor's face hardened. His artistic pride and sense of justice intertwined. He could not allow Elrond's prejudices, even if unconscious, to destroy the work that was to save their race.
“I will not allow it,” he said firmly. “Mithril does not judge blood, Halbrand. Neither do I. This is my work. If Elrond cannot accept that a man can be part of something great, that speaks to his limitations, not yours.”
“Thank you, my friend. I knew you were the only one who saw deeper than the others. But... we shouldn't waste time on anger when metal awaits. I've been thinking about that binding you mentioned yesterday.” Halbrand deftly changed the subject, grabbing the parchment and sketching a complex pattern with quick, confident strokes. “If we use less pressure here...”
It was the language Celebrimbor understood best. The elf breathed deeply, feeling the tension slowly leave his muscles. He looked at the sketch, then at Halbrand and his confident hand movements. Still, he couldn't forget what had happened. He had been working without sleep for many days. His fëa was burnt out, his senses sharpened to the point of pain by magic. Perhaps those shadows and unnatural fire were just a projection of his own exhaustion and the paranoia instilled in him by Elrond?
“Yes, let's focus on work,” Celebrimbor sighed, leaning over the sketch. “Although what I saw seemed so real.”
“What are you talking about, master?”
“When you got angry, the fire... it reacted to you. It grew, like a living being carrying out an order. And your voice... Halbrand, it didn't sound like a human voice.”
“My voice and the fire...” he repeated with disbelief. “Did you really see that? Tell me, when was the last time you slept?”
“I... I don’t remember,” Celebrimbor blinked, taken aback by the question.
“Mithril is a powerful metal. You know better than I how it affects the mind when one works with it too long without rest. It sharpens the senses, but it also... blurs the boundaries of reality.” Halbrand's voice was gentle, soothing, but firm.
He placed his hand on the elf's shoulder. It was so warm and completely human.
“You are exhausted. Your hands are shaking, and your mind, poisoned by Elrond's suspicions, is looking for danger where there is none. Look at me. I am only human. Your friend. Do you really see a monster in me?”
Celebrimbor looked at him closely and saw only a tired man asking for trust. He took a deep breath, feeling the fear disappear, leaving behind shame.
“You're right...” the elf muttered, and his voice was weak. “I think my mind really has started playing tricks on me.”
“It's natural,” Halbrand smiled reassuringly. “Let's get back to work, it always clears the mind, but then try to rest.”
Celebrimbor nodded, though he still felt anxiety deep in his soul. For the next few hours, the forge was filled with the sounds of work. There was no room for fear. Celebrimbor and Halbrand worked in perfect harmony, the elf with finesse and knowledge, the man with intuition and strength. Halbrand handed him tools before he asked for them, adjusted the temperature and suggested solutions. His every move reinforced the elf's conviction that this man was a gift and that Elrond was wrong.
When the sun set and the forge was plunged into the darkness of evening, the heavy gates opened and Gil-galad's guard entered. Celebrimbor instinctively stood in front of Halbrand, as if to shield him from another attack of distrust.
“Lord Halbrand,” said the guard, “The High King summons you.”
Halbrand did not seem surprised. He wiped his hands and nodded with dignity.
“I am ready,” he replied calmly and turned to Celebrimbor. “Rest, master.”
Then he smiled slightly and followed the guard. On the way, he considered every possibility and was ready for both battle and escape, but when he entered the chamber, instead of guards, he saw the King sitting behind a massive desk. Elrond stood beside him, and at the sight of Halbrand, he did not even flinch, but his eyes darkened. There was so much hatred and helplessness in them that the man immediately understood that honour, that amusing weakness of the elves, had prevented him from finally ruining Galadriel's reputation.
“You summoned me, High King?” he bowed with perfectly measured respect.
“Sit down, Halbrand,” Gil-galad pointed to a chair opposite him. “We have little time, and the matter of the South cannot wait until the wedding.”
“I am at your service, my lord.” Halbrand sat down, assuming the pose of an attentive listener.
“Your kingdom is in ruins...” Gil-galad began contemptuously. “The people are scattered, leaderless, and Adar is growing in strength. A lonely king, even with the ring of power, may not be enough to defeat him.”
“I realise that,” the man admitted humbly.
“Therefore,” continued the King, “I have decided that for the safety of our alliance, it will be necessary to establish a permanent garrison of elves on your lands. Under my direct command. They will oversee the rebuilding of the South and ensure that your people do not stray onto the path of darkness again.”
Halbrand lowered his gaze to hide a flash of amusement. Gil-galad was not offering him help, but occupation.
“It is a wise proposal, my lord,” his face expressed gratitude, but there was a note in his voice that suggested he understood the game. “My people are simple. They often stray. The presence of elven guardians... will certainly help them understand where their loyalties lie.”
Gil-galad raised his eyebrows, pleasantly surprised by such easy compliance. He had expected resistance and an outburst of pride.
“I am glad you understand the gravity of the situation. Of course, you will be an independent ruler, but strategic decisions should be consulted with Lindon.”
“Yes,” Halbrand confirmed. “Without your wisdom, High King, the South would once again be plunged into chaos. You are the architect of peace.”
The flattery was so pathetic that the man was surprised Gil-galad believed it, but the pride of the elves had been their downfall too many times. Meanwhile, the King leaned back more comfortably in his chair, clearly pleased. Then, unexpectedly, Elrond spoke.
“Architect of peace?” his voice vibrated with tension. “Do you really think, my lord, that the people of the South will welcome us with open arms? Or did Lord Halbrand agree so quickly because he knows that these elves will never reach the South?”
“What are you talking about, Elrond?” Gil-galad was irritated.
“About trust,” he took a step towards the table, ignoring Halbrand and focusing on the King. “We are entrusting the fate of Middle-earth to a man whose history we know only from his own stories. We are giving him armies, a mithril ring, and... Galadriel. And he agrees to everything you say. Doesn't that seem... suspicious to you?”
Halbrand said nothing. He sat looking at Elrond with an expression of sad disappointment.
“Elrond,” Gil-galad's voice became icy. “Your personal dislike of this alliance is beginning to cloud your political judgement. Halbrand shows a humility that you have recently lacked.”
“It is not dislike, but caution!” Elrond protested. “Look at him. He is not who he claims to be. I can see it. You should finally see it too!”
“Enough!” Gil-galad raised his hand in a warning gesture. “The decision has been made. Halbrand is returning to the South as our ally and with our support. I will hear no more of your paranoid theories, which come from your strange fears about Galadriel.”
Elrond fell silent, brutally hushed by the King he served. He saw in Halbrand the same shadow of dark triumph he had seen that morning. He did not need to say a single word, for the King had done everything for him.
“Forgive him, High King,” Halbrand said gently. “Lord Elrond simply cares deeply for Galadriel. It is understandable. I promise that my actions will prove his fears unfounded.”
Gil-galad nodded, reassured.
“I trust that will be the case. You may leave, Halbrand. We have much to prepare before the ceremony.”
Halbrand stood up, bowed low, and moved towards the exit. Before leaving, he looked at Elrond. He did not say a word, but the corner of his mouth lifted in a barely noticeable smile, and then he left, leaving him feeling more powerless than ever before.
***
Dusk was falling over Eregion as Galadriel sat at her dressing table, staring into the flame of a lit candle. She had avoided everyone all day, even her own thoughts, but now that she was alone, the memories of the night and morning came back to her with double force. Unconsciously, she touched her arm. Her skin still remembered the strength of his grip from the moment he lost control of himself.
She closed her eyes, and the darkness beneath her eyelids immediately filled with him. She felt it again. The roughness of his hands on her thighs, the weight of his body pressing her down onto the bed, taking her breath and her will away, and the smell of male lust that still surrounded her. But the worst were the memories of the sounds. She remembered her own voice. Those loud, throaty moans, interrupted by pleas for more. She remembered how her body arched, seeking him, how her fingers dug into his back, how... much she enjoyed the feeling of being stripped of her dignity. She opened her eyes abruptly, feeling a wave of burning shame wash over her face and neck.
“Who am I?” she whispered to her reflection in the mirror.
She was still surrounded by his presence and a desire that refused to go away. It was so humiliating. For thousands of years, she had ruled over matter and spirit, and now one man was enough to turn her into a weak creature trembling with passion.
Was what she felt when they made love, when his lips and teeth brushed against her skin, truly life? Or was it the darkness she was afraid to name? The truth was that never, in all her long life, had she felt so complete.
Suddenly, the air became too stifling, and Galadriel felt as if she were trapped in a cage of her own senses. She stood up abruptly, knocking over her chair. Her body demanded something to drown out the chaos in her head, but above all, to her horror, it demanded Halbrand. She couldn't bear it and left the chamber. Without thinking, she headed for the stables. However, she did not go inside because she heard the muffled voices of the stablehands. Instinctively, she turned into a narrow, dark passageway running along the side wall of the building. No one should find her here. She leaned her back against the cool stone and breathed in the night air.
“I didn't think I'd find you here.”
Halbrand stood in the shadows, just a few steps away from her. She hadn't noticed him. She, who could hear a leaf fall, hadn't heard a man approaching. She was surprised not only by his presence, but also by his appearance. He radiated an aura of cold, regal calculation. He looked like a predator who had just finished his meal and was planning his next hunt.
She did not know that Halbrand had not expected this meeting either. He was returning from Gil-galad, full of dark satisfaction, planning his next moves in his head. He was surprised when he saw her, because he was sure she had hidden herself in her chamber, fighting her shame.
“I was looking for... silence,” she tried to remain calm.
“Silence?” he came closer. “You don't look like someone who is looking for it.”
“I don't have to explain myself to you. I might as well ask what you are doing here?” she replied sharply, straightening up.
“I'm coming back from a meeting with your King.”
“With Gil-galad?” Galadriel frowned. “You saw him?”
“He summoned me,” Halbrand stood opposite her. “He wanted to make sure I was properly... obedient. He proposed an occupation of the South by an elven garrison from Lindon.”
Galadriel felt a stab of anger towards Gil-galad, but also anxiety.
“And what did you do?”
“I agreed,” he said simply.
“What?” she looked at him in disbelief. “Why? It's humiliating.”
“Because it's the price I have to pay,” he shrugged, and something like steel flashed in his eyes. “The price for peace. For an alliance. And... for you.”
Halbrand moved even closer. Galadriel tried to back away, but the stone wall of the stable behind her prevented her from doing so. She was trapped.
“Don't look at me like that,” he said, watching her face. “Did you think I would fight? That I would challenge him? I am no fool, Galadriel. I know when to bow my head so that I may raise it later.”
There was no humility in his voice. There was strategy. She saw in him a seasoned player who manipulated the High King with such ease that it chilled her.
“You're... different,” she whispered, unable to take her eyes off him. “This morning you were...”
“This morning I was a man who feared he had lost the only creature he cared about,” he interrupted her, his voice suddenly lowering, becoming intimate.
The politician's mask fell away, revealing the same hunger she had seen before. He placed his hand on the wall next to her head, trapping her in the cage of his arm. He didn't touch her, but his proximity was overwhelming.
“But now I know I haven't lost you,” he continued, staring at her lips. “You're here. Were you looking for silence, or were you looking for me?”
“I wasn't looking for you,” she lied desperately.
“You're lying,” he said with satisfaction. “Your body cannot lie, even if your lips try. I can feel your fear... and your desire.”
He leaned in, his face close to hers.
“It's funny,” he whispered. “Gil-galad thinks he controls me. Elrond thinks he sees through me. And you... you think you're saving me. You're all wrong.”
Galadriel held her breath.
“What do you mean?”
Halbrand grabbed her hand tightly, the one with Nenya on her finger.
“That none of you understand what is happening. We are bound, Galadriel. You and I. Not by politics, not by pity. By this,” he looked at the ring, “By this fire. And nothing your King does, nothing your friend says, will change that.”
His words were arrogant and dangerous, but he stood before her, so confident, powerful and terrifying that instead of running away, she wanted this moment to last.
“Are you afraid of me now?” he asked, without moving.
“I should be,” she replied honestly.
“Yes,” he admitted and smiled, “You should. But you won't run away. You no longer have the strength to do so.”
At that moment, Galadriel realised that she would marry not only the broken man she wanted to save, but also a dangerous ruler who was just beginning his game. And this realisation, to her own horror, attracted her more than anything else. At the same time, his strange words about Elrond disturbed her. It was thanks to them that she broke out of the hypnotic trance of his closeness.
“Why did you say that Elrond thinks he sees through you?”
Halbrand sighed heavily. He lowered his arm, which was blocking her escape to the wall, and took half a step back. In doing so, he suddenly made her approach him to hear the answer.
“I shouldn't tell you this,” he said hesitantly. “You have enough to worry about. But... if we are to be one, there can be no secrets between us.”
He looked up, his eyes full of sad resignation.
“Your friend... visited me this morning. Right after you left my chamber.”
“Elrond spoke to you?” the blood drained from her face.
“He did much more than that,” Halbrand shuddered. “He burst into my chamber like a pack of wolves. He found me... naked. Still smelling of you. He didn't even give me a chance to get dressed. He tried to interrogate me.”
“Interrogate?” Galadriel felt a stab of shame, but also a rising indignation, for such behaviour was not like her friend.
“He was looking for you,” Halbrand continued, his voice hardening. “But... he found something else by accident. It was the underwear I took from you. Remember? The one I kept so you would remember who you belong to.”
Galadriel remembered perfectly that moment of embarrassment and excitement when he took her panties. The thought that Elrond, her most noble friend, had seen this intimate, stolen item at Halbrand's was like a slap in the face.
‘But... how?’ she whispered, and her cheeks flushing with a vivid heat.
“I pulled them out when you left because I wanted to still smell you. And then he came in,” Halbrand admitted quietly, never taking his eyes off her.
He walked over to her and took her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at him.
“It doesn't even matter what he said. What matters is how disgusted he was, Galadriel. As if what we have, your desire, the fact that you gave yourself to me, was something dirty. Something that taints you.” His fingers tightened slightly on her shoulders. “Elrond threatened me. He said he would destroy me. But do you know what hurt me the most? It wasn't concern for your safety. It was... possessiveness.”
“Possessiveness?”
“Yes,” Halbrand nodded. “He can't bear the thought that you chose someone else. That you have desires he doesn't understand and can't control. To him, you are a pure, unblemished elf to be admired. And me? I'm the one who dared to change that and make you want to remember what pleasure is.”
He suddenly let go of her and turned away. Galadriel didn't understand any of it. She didn't expect Elrond to be capable of such a thing.
“He accused me of taking advantage of you,” he said over his shoulder. “He suggested that I manipulated you. That it wasn't your will. Like a child who doesn’t know what it wants.”
Anger welled up inside Galadriel. It was exactly what she had experienced when talking to Gil-galad, and now it turned out that even Elrond thought of her that way. That she was weak and needed to be saved from her own choices.
“He has no right...” her hand clenched into a fist. “He has no right to enter your chamber and judge you. He has no right to judge me!”
“For him, it's not judgement. He thinks it's his duty,” Halbrand turned to her. “He will try to separate us, Galadriel. He will use every rumour, every shadow of suspicion to prove that I am the evil that has defiled you.”
He came back to her and cupped her face in his hands.
“But tell me... did you feel defiled when I was inside you?”
“No,” she replied without hesitation.
“Then don't let him get into your head,” he whispered. “Elrond sees in you a being he must protect. And I look at you and see a fire capable of setting Middle-earth ablaze, which I desire more than anything else. Don't let him destroy what we have in the name of his wounded pride.”
Anger at Elrond pulsed through her, drowning out the last remnants of doubt. Her friend had betrayed her. Instead of supporting her and trusting her judgement, he had begun to follow her and treat her like a victim.
“I won't let him,” she said firmly. “He won't decide my life for me.”
Halbrand hugged her, burying his hand in her hair. He held her for a moment, drawing power from her defiance, but then, slowly and with palpable reluctance, he loosened his arms. He moved away from her, but not completely. His hands slid down her shoulders, stopping at her hands. He admired her with delight, but there was a deep shadow lurking in it.
“You have so much strength in you, Galadriel,” his thumb caressed the back of her hand. “So much fire. It was that fire that made me want you the moment I saw you. And it is that fire that keeps you standing here in the darkness, ready to fight everyone... for me.”
He sighed heavily, and his demeanour changed unexpectedly. Suddenly, he became a man overwhelmed by the weight of his own existence.
“But look at this,” he nodded towards their surroundings. “Look where we are. You, an elf princess, and me... an exile from the South. I'm forcing you to hide and wage war on the only friend who has been with you for centuries.”
He let go of her hands and lowered his head.
“I see how they behave in my presence. I see the disgust in every gesture Elrond makes. And I fear... that my presence with you is not a gift, but a blemish. That instead of giving you strength, I weaken you.”
He raised his head, and his face in the moonlight was a mask of sadness and exhaustion.
“Perhaps Elrond is right,” he said, not looking at her. “Perhaps I bring only darkness and chaos with me. Look at us, Galadriel. We meet in secret. I force you to lie, I turn you against your friends... You don't deserve this.”
“No!” Her voice vibrated with anger.
She stood on her toes and grabbed his tunic with a violence that surprised him. She pulled him towards her, closing the remaining space between them, and before he could even move, her lips touched his. It was not a gentle kiss. It was a declaration of war on Elrond, on Gil-galad, and on anyone who tried to tell her what was proper. She kissed him with a passion that bordered on pain, biting his lips, demanding that he take her and prove them all wrong. Her tongue invaded his mouth, predatory and greedy, seeking his tongue and initiating a wild, chaotic battle.
Halbrand stood still for a split second, allowing her to dominate him, but then his passion exploded with double force. With a guttural growl, he wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her almost off the ground and pressing her back against the wall. He took control of the kiss, and now it was he who dictated its possessive and deep rhythm, their struggle for dominance becoming a whirlwind of the senses. His thigh pressed between her legs, and the weight of his body made her realise how thin her dress was and how vulnerable she was. Her hands clenched his shoulders, seeking support as the world spun. A quiet moan escaped her throat as his mouth moved down to her neck, biting and sucking the sensitive skin where he could feel her pulse.
Suddenly, with a tremendous effort of will, he pulled away from her. His breath was ragged, and his eyes seemed almost black, dilated with desire that balanced on the edge of madness. His hand clamped down on her jaw, forcing her to look straight at him.
“Galadriel... If you don't stop this now... I won't be able to stop myself,” he growled and pressed her harder against the wall, as if to show her exactly what he meant. “And... I'll take you here. Right up against this wall. I won't be gentle, and I won't treat you like a queen. Is that what you want?”
The warning was meant to sober her up and remind her of her dignity. But Halbrand had miscalculated, or, in his dark intuition, he had hit the mark perfectly. Galadriel's pupils were dilated, and her chest heaved violently. There was no fear of filth or degradation in her gaze. There was liberation.
“I am not yet queen,” she said firmly, pulling him back to her.
“As you wish,” Halbrand uttered a low growl, a mixture of triumph and animal lust.
He didn't give her time to breathe again. His lips crashed onto hers until Galadriel moaned. Halbrand wasted no time on gentleness or struggling with her clothes. His large hands moved quickly, lifting her dress in one violent motion. He grabbed her underwear and tore the fabric, exposing her pussy.
Cool air brushed her bare skin, but only for a second before his finger sank into her and began to move. There was no softness in his touch, but after a moment he stopped. He smiled wickedly and lightly brushed her clitoris, barely touching it.
“Tell me you want me,” he pulled his hand back and unbuttoned his trousers, taking out his hard penis, which pulsed with painful desire.
“I want...”
Galadriel didn't finish because he grabbed her hips and, with a guttural growl, lifted her up and thrust into her with one powerful stroke. Instinctively, seeking support when the ground disappeared from under her feet, she wrapped her legs around his hips so that her heels dug into his buttocks. He filled her so violently that the line between pain and pleasure ceased to exist. Galadriel threw her head back, digging her nails into his shoulders through the fabric of his tunic.
Halbrand clenched his teeth when he felt her body tighten around him, as if trying to imprison him forever. His hips began to move, each thrust deeper and more desperate than the last. He wasn't making love to her, he was conquering her, because he wanted her to forget every thought that didn't belong to him.
“Halbrand...” she cried out loudly, unable to control herself.
Her moans grew louder and her body trembled in his embrace. His hand rose and covered her mouth, muffling her cries as his hips worked faster and with greater force.
“Be quiet...” he growled in her ear, without stopping or slowing down for a moment. “Do you want them to hear us and find us?”
His words were brutal and stripped her of any remaining dignity. She should have broken free from his embrace, but instead, a wave of heat washed over her from head to toe. Being reduced to pure physicality was a liberation she had never experienced before. She bit the hand that gagged her mouth and pushed her hips even harder, demanding more. When her teeth sank into his skin, the last of his control snapped.
His movements grew wilder, and his hips slammed into her body with such force that each thrust pushed her higher up the wall. Her back rubbed against the cold stone, but she didn't seem to notice. Halbrand stopped thinking and planning. There was only her hot, tight core clenching around him and her muffled moans vibrating against his hand. Finally, he thrust into her, going deeper than ever before, and then it happened.
As he approached the climax, the barriers he had placed on his true nature began to crack under the pressure of physical ecstasy. The human body was too tight to contain this explosion of power. Although Galadriel was focused on how his penis filled her to the point of pain, she suddenly realised that something had changed.
The air surrounding them thickened, and the shadows around the stable lengthened unnaturally, enveloping them in a cocoon of absolute darkness. His presence invaded her soul not like a whisper, but like the roar of an underground ocean. It was a power so immense, so ancient and crushing that fear paralysed her. His eyes, fixed on her, seemed bottomless. For a split second, she did not see Halbrand in them. She saw a fire that gave no warmth, but reduced worlds to ashes.
“There is no turning back, Galadriel,” his voice sounded completely different.
Her body trembled and something uncontrollable exploded inside her. A sudden, blinding impulse passed through her, like lightning. It was a pleasure so intense that it bordered on agony. Her body arched, and a scream muffled by her hand stuck in her throat. She was disappearing, absorbed by the black, pulsating force that poured out of him along with his sperm.
His muscles were tense to the limit, as if he were fighting with himself to push this overflowing power back into the confines of human form. The shadows returned to their place. The air regained its lightness. Galadriel slumped limply in his arms, trembling all over. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and her mind was empty, burned out by the experience. Never in her long life, had she felt anything like this.
His hand slid from her lips, and then he slowly withdrew from her, but did not let her go until she was standing firmly on her feet. The remnants of that inhuman heat still smouldered within him, but he quickly covered them with a mask of fatigue and concern. He knew he had shown her too much and had almost revealed himself.
“What was that?” she asked quietly.
“I warned you that I wouldn't be able to control myself...” he didn't answer her right away. “That I wouldn't treat you like a queen. But that... was animalistic. I lost control.”
“I'm not talking about that,” she interrupted him sharply. “At the moment... of pleasure. Something changed. It was something ancient and terrifyingly powerful. It wasn't you, Halbrand, but pure, destructive evil.”
At these words, Halbrand paled. He looked at her with genuine terror. She was too smart. She had noticed the crack in his armour. If he denied it now, she would start looking for an explanation. He had to give her another explanation. One that would calm her down and at the same time push her deeper into his arms.
“Evil?” he repeated hollowly. “No, Galadriel, I... I swear, I didn't mean to hurt you. It was chaos. Something inside me broke. This darkness I'm running from...”
He trailed off, his gaze falling on the ring on his finger. The gem glowed in the darkness with a cold, accusatory fire.
“Could it be...” Fear sounded in his voice. “Ever since I've been wearing the ring, I've felt different. Stronger, but also... more unstable. And today, when we were so close, when I completely lost myself... I had the feeling that I wasn't in control of my body.”
Galadriel looked at his fear and shame. It wasn't a monster she had sensed for a split second. It was a terrified man who didn't understand the forces he was playing with.
“We don't know their powers,” she agreed. “Celebrimbor said he combined the power of the Visible and Invisible worlds in them.”
“I am only human, Galadriel. Full of flaws and darkness,” Halbrand said, his voice tinged with desperation. “You are light. Perhaps... these two natures should not mix so violently? Perhaps my nature has tainted yours?”
“It has not tainted it. It has clashed with it. In the moment of such great closeness... the barriers between us disappeared, and the rings responded. What we felt, that destructive power... it wasn't you,” she felt a strange relief at being able to explain the phenomenon instead of fearing the person standing in front of her. “It was the raw, untamed power of the rings, unleashed by our emotions.”
Halbrand listened to her with the expression of a man who was slowly beginning to understand something beyond his comprehension.
“So it's... it's not the darkness in me? I didn't hurt you?” he asked quietly, with hope in his voice.
“No,” she assured him, “But it proves that we must be careful and learn to control them. We cannot let this power rule us. We must get to know it. Understand what these rings are capable of when we are together.”
Halbrand took a deep breath and closed his eyes, as if in relief. He rested his forehead against her shoulder in a gesture of mortal seeking comfort. Galadriel embraced him, now feeling responsible for protecting them both from a power they did not understand.
Chapter 13
Notes:
Elrond, wounded and torn, confronts Galadriel, uncovering lies that could bury not only their friendship, but also the future of Middle-earth. Galadriel, trapped in a cage of expectations, feels the heat of her own desire and the burden of choices that cannot be undone. And Halbrand receives a vision from fate that seems to him to be the most perfect weapon.
There are no easy choices here, with light and darkness intertwining in the most intimate corners of the soul.
See for yourselves what it looks like when the Lady of Light voluntarily surrenders her future to the Dark Lord.
Sorry for any mistakes - English is not my native language.
Chapter Text
Dawn broke over Eregion pale and misty, as if the sun hesitated to illuminate this day at all. Everyone was preparing for the wedding, which in the elves’ eyes was meant to bring peace, but in Elrond’s heart it heralded the end of an era. The city was coming to life in an atmosphere of joyful excitement. From beyond the windows of Elrond's chamber came the sounds of bustle, and from the kitchen came the smells of wine and good food.
Elrond sat in his chamber, staring at the empty desk. He felt like the only sober person at a feast of fools. He was still weighed down by shame and powerlessness in the face of this man's insolence. He knew he was losing. In such a short time, Halbrand had won Gil-galad's trust, Celebrimbor's respect, and Galadriel's heart, but worst of all, he had convinced them all that it was he who was the evil, jealous friend who could not come to terms with his loss of influence.
A knock at the door snapped him out of his thoughts.
“Come in, please...” Elrond raised his head, rubbing his tired eyes.
At the door stood a terrified assistant from the archives, clutching a scroll in his hands.
“Lord Elrond...” he mumbled, bowing low and not daring to enter. “Master Lindir ordered this to be delivered immediately. He apologizes deeply. He asked me to tell you that this is an unforgivable oversight, unbecoming of his position.”
Elrond rose slowly. He approached the young elf and took the scroll from him, along with a note, which he opened immediately.
“Lord Elrond,
Forgive me for my mistake and my excitement. It bothered me, so I checked everything again. It turned out that the scroll concerning the genealogy of the South was not lost. It had simply been misplaced. I found it in the section on dwarves. Lady Galadriel must have left it there by mistake, and I did not check. I am sending it immediately, as you requested, hoping that it may still be useful.
Your humble servant, Lindir”
Elrond dismissed the elf with a gesture and was left alone. With trembling fingers, he unrolled the old, fragile parchment. He carefully pressed down on its upper corner with a heavy candlestick. He read the names of the kings of the South one by one, carefully tracing the line of blood. He slid his finger down until he reached the last name. And a short note written in faded ink, but still legible:
“Died without an heir. The line was broken.”
Elrond read the words several times, their meaning sinking in, chilling him to the bone. There was no heir. There was no lost king who had miraculously survived. Halbrand had been lying from the very beginning.
The elf slumped into a chair, still staring at the parchment. But... Galadriel had read this scroll. She knew Halbrand was not a king, and yet she had remained silent. He remembered her determination to make him their ally and her anger when anyone dared to question his dignity and loyalty. A cold shiver ran down his spine.
“You knew...” he whispered, his voice breaking under the weight of incomprehension. “All this time... you knew.”
He couldn't understand it. This didn't fit with the image he had known for centuries. Galadriel? The same Galadriel who had sworn over Finrod's body that she would destroy every trace of evil in Middle-earth? The same Galadriel who despised the lies and manipulations of the enemy?
He remembered how many times she had spoken of truth, which is like water and will always find a way out. Her eyes, in which there was no space for a shadow of falsehood. And now? She had hidden this scroll like a common thief covering his tracks.
“Why?” he asked himself. “What did he promise you? What did he give you that you abandoned the truth for?”
He tried to find a rational explanation. Maybe Halbrand blackmailed her? No, Galadriel would rather die than succumb to blackmail. Maybe she believed that Middle-earth needed a king, even a false one, to survive? That would suit her, but putting a fraud on the throne, giving him the ring of power and binding her fate to his... that was madness. Suddenly he remembered the way she looked at Halbrand.
“It's not politics,” he realized with horror. “It's fascination...”
He had poisoned her. Halbrand had entered Galadriel's mind and twisted everything that was simple and noble in it. He made her call lies a necessity and desire a destiny. Elrond glanced at the scroll lying on the desk. He had been betrayed by someone he would have entrusted his own life to.
“If you cannot tell light from darkness...” he picked up the scroll, “...then we are lost.”
There was no more hesitation in him. Only the cold, sad determination of a friend who sees a loved one drowning and doesn't even know it. He had to show her this and force her to admit the truth. He grabbed the scroll and headed for the exit. He knew that this conversation could destroy their friendship forever, but if it meant saving her soul, he was willing to pay the price.
***
Galadriel's chamber was filled with a noise that made her feel sick. Her chamber, usually calm and orderly, now resembled a battlefield where silk and lace were at war with her patience. Four seamstresses circled around her like a flock of birds, pinning, adjusting, and whispering something with delight.
Gil-galad had kept his word, and the wedding preparations were underway, ignoring her tiredness and the chaos in her soul. Now she stood in the middle of the room wearing a heavy, silvery-white wedding dress. The fabric was a masterpiece and shone like starlight reflected in a frozen lake, but to her it was armor that restricted her movements rather than protecting her. The corset was so tight that every breath was a struggle and a reminder of her lack of freedom. The collar, stiffened with silver thread, chafed her skin, exactly where Halbrand had left the mark of his teeth.
She looked into the large mirror opposite her. The creature she saw in it was beautiful, statuesque, and flawless. She was the perfect vision of an elven queen, but Galadriel did not recognize herself. Where was the warrior in armor? Where was the being who had screamed with pleasure in the shadow of the stable yesterday? She had been so alive then, and her reflection in the mirror was dead.
She felt a sudden urge to escape. Not only from this chamber, but above all, she wanted to tear off this silk and run to a place where she did not have to be a symbol. Into the darkness. To him.
“A little tighter at the waist, my lady?” asked one of the seamstresses, pulling mercilessly at the lacing at the back. “It must fit perfectly. The High King wishes you to look so stunning that all of Middle-earth will be speechless with admiration.”
Galadriel swayed slightly as the corset tightened. She was a fraud. The white fabric covered her body, which just a few hours ago had trembled with a passion that had nothing to do with this perfect whiteness.
“And now the collar,” said the older seamstress, approaching her from the front. “It must emphasize the line of the neck.”
The woman lifted the stiff fabric, brushing Galadriel's golden hair aside. Suddenly, her hands froze and she leaned closer, her forehead wrinkling in disgust.
“Oh, my lady...” she said with concern, touching the sensitive spot. “You have an ugly mark here. It looks like a painful bruise. Is it from the armor?”
Galadriel froze. The blood drained from her face, because she knew exactly what the seamstress was seeing. A dark purple, distinct mark where Halbrand had bitten her with his lips and teeth last night, marking her as his property. She remembered the pain that had turned into pleasure and his throaty growl vibrating on her skin.
“Maybe it's a spider bite?” wondered the second assistant aloud, looking over her shoulder.
“Leave it,” Galadriel tried to move away from their prying eyes, but the corset held her in an iron grip.
“We can't leave it like that, my lady,” objected the older seamstress, shaking her head. “It will be visible. The white of the dress will only emphasize it. What will the King and the guests think when they see such blemishes on your skin? It must look innocent.”
“We have to cover it up,” the assistant reached for a box of light powder and began to apply it to the purple mark. “And we'll raise the lace higher. No one can see that your skin is not flawless.”
Galadriel stood motionless, allowing foreign hands to mask the evidence of her fall. She watched in the mirror as the white powder covered the dark mark of passion. It was the perfect metaphor for her life at that moment. Powdering a lie...
Her breathing quickened and the corset suffocated her more and more. Suddenly, against her will, an image of Halbrand appeared in her mind. She wanted the door to open and for him to come in, ignoring the screams of the terrified seamstresses. She wanted him to come up to her and tear off that cursed corset with one brutal movement, freeing her from that white cage. She imagined the sound of silk tearing. His hands on her body, rough and dirty with soot, ripping the lace off her. She dreamed of him taking her here, on this dressing table, among the scattered cosmetics, with the same frenzied force as yesterday. To destroy this perfect bride and remind her that she was a flesh-and-blood creature. A wave of heat flooded her body, from her feet to the tips of her ears.
“My lady?” The seamstress stepped back, concerned. “You're all flushed. Is the corset too tight? Are you feeling faint?”
Galadriel looked at her with a hazy gaze. She was furious that they were touching her and that they could see her blush, which was not the result of breathlessness, but of sinful thoughts.
“Enough!” she snapped.
“But my lady, the dress must…”
“I said, enough!” Galadriel shouted angrily.
She broke free from their grasp with such force that pins scattered and a powder box fell to the floor, spilling white dust like ashes. She was distraught, on the verge of crying or screaming, torn between desire and rage.
“Get out of here!” she gasped, feeling the walls of the chamber closing in on her and the covered mark on her neck burning with living fire. “All of you. Immediately. I want to be alone.”
The seamstresses curtsied hastily, terrified by her sudden outburst of fury. They exchanged worried glances as they hurriedly gathered their tools and withdrew from the chamber.
Galadriel was left alone. She leaned her hands on the dressing table, breathing heavily. Her body still vibrated with unfulfilled fantasy. Then she heard the door open. Her heart leapt into her throat and she turned around, hoping and fearing that he had heard her thoughts.
But standing in the doorway was a strangely calm Elrond. He immediately noticed her flushed face and the powder scattered on the floor. Galadriel felt anger mixed with humiliation. She had been caught in a moment of weakness, though he could not know the nature of that weakness.
“Elrond?” she asked, her voice full of unfulfilled tension. “I did not call for you, and you should not see me in this state.”
“I know,” he said, approaching the table and placing a scroll on it. “But we must talk. One last time. And I'm afraid you won't need that dress.”
“I have no desire to listen to your sermons,” Galadriel turned to the mirror, trying to unlace her corset, which suddenly seemed even tighter. “I heard from Halbrand what you did. You broke into his chamber. You spied on us.”
“I spied on a liar,” Elrond approached her and gently but firmly took her by the arm, not allowing her to turn away from him any longer. “And I found proof. Read this.”
He pointed to the table. Galadriel glanced at the scroll. She recognized it immediately. She trembled, and her hand involuntarily moved to the ring.
“I don't need to read it,” she said coldly.
“You don't?” Elrond looked at her in disbelief. “This is the genealogy of the kings of the South. It clearly shows that the line was broken a thousand years ago. Halbrand is not a king, Galadriel. He is deceiver."
Galadriel turned and walked to the window. Her hand clenched the folds of her dress.
“The archives are full of errors, Elrond,” she said, trying to make her voice sound indifferent. “Lines die and are reborn in the shadows. Did you really come here on the eve of my wedding to bore me with history?”
“Don't do that,” Elrond's voice hardened.
“This is not an error in the archives, and you yourself made sure that no one would accidentally find it...”
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
“I know from Lindir that you asked for this scroll and read it. You were supposed to put it back, but it was found in the section on dwarves, not humans.”
Silence fell, broken only by Galadriel's heavy breathing. She had been caught. There was no room for evasion. Every lie would only bring greater humiliation.
“Tell me I'm wrong,” Elrond asked, his voice filled with desperate hope. “Tell me Lindir is lying. That you didn't do it.”
Galadriel turned slowly. There was no shame in her eyes, as he had expected. There was coldness and determination, forged in the fire of her ambition.
“I will not lie to you, my friend,” she said, lifting her chin proudly. “You do not deserve it, but you don’t deserve to judge me either.”
“So it's true?” he whispered. “You knew? All this time?”
“I knew,” she admitted firmly.
“And you kept silent? You lied to Gil-galad? You lied to all of us?”
“It wasn't a lie, it was a choice!” Galadriel took a step toward him, going on the offensive. “People need a leader to follow, and Halbrand can be that leader. It doesn't matter if the blood of ancient rulers flows in his veins or the blood of a common man, if he has the strength to unite the South against Adar.”
“Strength?!” Elrond laughed bitterly, in despair. “That's not strength, that's deceit! How can you trust him when you know his identity is a lie? When you know he built everything on deception? Have you considered what else he might be hiding?”
“I see in him what you refuse to see!” she cried. “I see someone who wants to atone for his sins. Someone who is fighting.”
“Fighting?” Elrond almost shouted. “Galadriel, he has poisoned you. Not only with words.”
He reached for her hand, grabbing the finger on which Nenya sparkled.
“You think this is a gift?” He pointed to the ring, which seemed to pulsate with a nervous rhythm in his presence. “It is a curse. I spoke with Celebrimbor today. I forced him to tell me the whole truth. I know about the accident in the forge.”
Galadriel froze. Her fighting spirit faded for a split second, replaced by pure surprise.
“What accident?” she asked. “Celebrimbor said the process went perfectly.”
“He lied because Halbrand ordered him to keep quiet.” Elrond did not let go of her hand. “Halbrand cut himself. His blood fell into the molten metal. It mixed with the mithril and gold from Valinor.”
Galadriel looked at the ring. Suddenly, she remembered the strange, dark pulsation that had overcome her last night by the stable. Now she understood. That was why the rings had reacted so strongly to their closeness. That was why she could feel him inside her even when she wasn't touching him. His essence was physically enchanted in the metal.
“You wear metal on your finger that contains the blood of a deceiver,” Elrond continued, his voice tense. “Do you really believe that a man with such skills and knowledge of the forge could be so clumsy?”
“What are you suggesting?” A shadow of fear flashed across her face for a moment.
“That it could have been intentional.“ Elrond was losing his composure. “I don’t need to tell you that blood can be bound to old and dark magic. Perhaps he wanted to taint Celebrimbor’s work, or bind us together in a way we don’t understand? This is dangerous, Galadriel.”
Galadriel stared at Nenyia. The blood of a man who was so important to her, mixed with her power. To Elrond, it was contamination and suspicion of magic, but she... felt a strange tenderness. The thought that he had given a part of himself seemed touching to her. She abruptly pulled her hand out of Elrond's grasp.
“You don't even know how it happened, do you?” Her voice was calmer, but colder. “But you immediately assume the worst, because for you, human blood is something that defiles the purity of the elves.”
“That's not the point!” Elrond protested. “It's about intentions! About lies!”
“And I think that's exactly what you mean,” she interrupted him. “You want to believe he did it on purpose because you can't wrap your head around the idea that a mortal could have hurt himself creating the ring. Meanwhile, it was just a few drops of blood, Elrond. Red, human blood. If it got into the ring, it means that this ring has both the power of Valinor and the power of Middle-earth."
Elrond took a step back, looking at her with horror. He didn't recognize her. His friend was rationalizing something that should disgust her.
“You defend him...” he whispered. “Even in the face of such facts. He has changed you, Galadriel. You no longer live in the light. For you, only he exists.”
“I look to the future. And there is no place in it for your prejudices,” she felt a pang of shame, but immediately covered it with anger.
Elrond watched her for a moment with pain, then his gaze stopped on the ring, which glowed with an unnatural brightness, as if feeding on her emotions.
“Then take it off,” he said suddenly, holding out his open hand.
“What?” Galadriel flinched, pulling her hand back.
“If it's just a piece of metal, then... take it off,” Elrond's voice took on a desperate power. “Just for a moment. Take it off and look me in the eyes without its weight on your finger. Prove to me that these are your thoughts and not the insidious spells of his blood. Please, Galadriel. I see your pupils dilate when you touch it. This is not a gift. Let me free you from it.”
Galadriel looked at Nenyia. It sounded so simple. All she had to do was slide it off her finger, but when she thought about it, she was overcome with paralyzing fear. The ring suddenly became hot and heavy, as if it had fused with her body. Its pulsing was synchronized with the beating of her own heart. She returned to the memory of the emptiness from a moment ago, before she put it on. That helplessness in the face of the coming darkness. With the ring, she became complete. If she took it off... would she become a lonely elf again, living for revenge?
“He wants to control you,” the whisper in her mind was quiet but clear, sounding like Halbrand's voice. “He wants you to be weak.”
“No!” Her fingers, instead of sliding the ring off, clenched into a fist, protecting it from Elrond.
“Why?” Elrond did not relent. “What are you afraid of? That without it you will see the truth?”
“I'm afraid I'll be defenseless without it!” she cried, backing away against the wall. “It's part of me, Elrond! Don't you understand? It's not jewelry. It's my strength, and the only thing keeping this world from falling apart!”
Elrond saw madness in her eyes. The cold, fanatical belief of an addict. He realized he was too late. The ring had already taken control of her.
“It is not the world that is falling apart,” he said, lowering his hand. “It is you.”
He took a deep breath, trying to control the trembling of his hands. His words did not reach her. She was deluded by the magic of blood and her own desire, so he had only one option left.
“Since you refuse to accept the truth...” he said with a determination that made his voice hard as steel, “...then Gil-galad must know it. This wedding cannot take place on the foundation of a lie. The king will decide what to do with the deceiver.”
He took a quick step toward the table, reaching for the scroll that was his only evidence, but Galadriel was faster. She pressed the parchment against the tabletop, literally fractions of a second before Elrond's fingers could touch it. She looked at him, and in her eyes was the coldness of a commander eliminating a danger.
“No.”
“Galadriel, step back,” Elrond commanded, not withdrawing his hand even though hers blocked his access. “This document belongs to the archives of Eregion.”
“This document concerns my fiancé and my future,” she hissed, taking the scroll from the table and stepping back. “And it will stay with me.”
Elrond looked at her in horror. He understood what she was about to do. This was no longer an argument between friends, but betrayal.
“You want to hide evidence of treason from Gil-galad?” he asked in disbelief. “Do you understand what you are doing? You are becoming an accomplice to deception!”
“It's not deceit!” she snapped, pressing the scroll to her chest. "This way, I am protecting the alliance, which is Middle-earth's only hope. Gil-galad is a politician, Elrond. If he sees this document, he will bow to the pressure of tradition and break off the engagement. And then we will lose the South and our chance to defeat the enemy. I will not let bureaucracy destroy our only chance."
“We will lose our honor and... you!” Elrond shouted, losing his temper. “We are building peace on a lie! Without this scroll, my words before the King will be meaningless! They will sound like empty accusations!”
A bitter smile appeared on Galadriel's lips. She knew he was right.
“Exactly,” she said, and the cruelty of those words hit Elrond harder than any blow. “Without this evidence, your warnings will sound like the bitterness of someone who sees treachery everywhere. Gil-galad will not see you as a wise, Elrond. He will only see a jealous friend who, out of powerlessness, tries to destroy what he himself cannot understand. No one will believe you.”
Elrond paled and took a step back. She had turned his loyalty and concern into something small and pathetic. He realized he was helpless.
“I don't recognize you,” he whispered, his voice dead. “He took my friend and left me... this.”
“Leave, Elrond.”
“Galadriel...”
“Leave. Because if you stay, one of us will say something we can never take back.” Her lips trembled, but her voice was firm.
“May you never regret the words you have spoken today,” he whispered, then turned and left, leaving her alone in the empty chamber.
When the door closed, Galadriel looked at the scroll in her hands, which trembled as if all her strength was crumbling away layer by layer. She couldn't remember the last time something had hurt her so much. She didn't think long and went to one of her chests, opened it, and pushed the scroll to the bottom, under piles of clothes and armor. She hid the truth, becoming the guardian of Halbrand's secret.
When the lid of the chest fell with a dull thud, Galadriel's legs buckled under the weight of her emotions. She sank to her knees, resting her forehead against the cool wood of the furniture. What had she done? She had taken advantage of a friend's loyalty and become an accomplice to deception. The image of Elrond's face just before he left appeared in her mind. The pain and disappointment. He did not look at her as an enemy, but as someone who had died.
“Elrond...” she whispered in despair.
Suddenly, she rose from the floor. She had to stop him. She couldn't betray everything she had been for thousands of years for... for him? She rushed to the door. Her hand clenched the doorknob. All she had to do was open it, run out into the hallway, and give him the scroll. Tell Gil-galad the truth before it was too late. She pressed the doorknob and froze.
The vision of what would happen next struck her with the clarity of lightning. If she opened that door and confessed her guilt... Halbrand would die or be thrown into a dungeon. And her? She would be considered a traitor who knew about the deception and remained silent because she shared a bed with the usurper. Gil-galad would send her back to Valinor in chains or sentence her to exile in disgrace. She was overcome by a fear she hadn't felt since she lost Finrod. It was the price of a love that should never have happened.
She squeezed her eyelids shut, trying to calm herself, but immediately recalled the memory she had been running from all day. Again, she felt as if she were by the stable. Rough, cold stone dug into her back, and she felt the hot, heavy pressure of Halbrand's body pinning her to the wall. She remembered her legs wrapped around his waist, desperately seeking support as he entered her with brutal, possessive force. In that moment, she was not a commander, but a body begging for more. The embarrassing fire that burned her then still smoldered in her lower abdomen.
But beneath that layer of pleasure lurked something else that now, in the safety of her chamber, made her break out in a cold sweat. She remembered that moment of deepest ecstasy when everything disappeared into the abyss of darkness. The shadows around them thickened until it seemed that the night itself wanted to devour them. Some ancient force was invading her mind. For a moment, she saw something dark appear in his eyes and it made her soul cower in fear. She had to believe him that it was the power of the rings. Because the alternative, that she had made love to a monster to whom she had given her body, was unbearable. She opened her eyes, gasping for air. She had just lost someone dear to her in order to keep someone even more important. Now she had to understand what this power that had touched her was.
She threw off the cursed wedding dress, leaving it on the floor as a symbol of a life she no longer had a right to. She dressed in a dark velour riding tunic and simple trousers. Nenya pulsed on her finger, growing warmer with each passing moment.
She didn't need to look for Halbrand. She knew where he was. She left the chamber without looking back.
***
Halbrand sat on a cracked step in an old amphitheater at the edge of the forest, turning a small, sharp stone in his hands. He tossed it and caught it. This monotonous movement was the only thing that kept him from smashing these ruins to dust. An hour or two passed, and the path leading from the palace remained empty. He clenched his hand around the stone so tightly that it cracked, cutting his skin. He didn't even notice the pain.
“She won't come,” he whispered angrily.
Last night was not a mistake born of weakness. After all, he knew his power and had lived with it since the beginning of time. But with her, that power reacted differently. He closed his eyes and remembered the moment of orgasm. It wasn't just physical relief. In that one moment, when their bodies and breaths became one, he forgot he was Halbrand. His fëa tried to take her whole. He let her feel the weight of a will that crushes mountains and distorts reality. Had she not been completely lost in ecstasy, she would have seen in him the one whom the elves called by only one name. She had already uttered it once with disgust. Did she understand that he was the shadow that had been following her for centuries? If so... she would not come. She would understand that her lover and her enemy were one and the same creature, and she would get rid of him.
The vision of emptiness terrified him, and he instinctively looked at his hand, at Narya. He knew he had the potential to bend the will of the world, but the ring was silent. He wanted to tear apart the veil of reality, to experience the divine power he had felt yesterday with her, and... he hit a wall.
“Fool!” He clenched his hand into a fist.
It was the worst discovery. He had created these rings so that they would need her light to balance his darkness. He had planned to imprison her, but in doing so, he had imprisoned himself. Without her, his power, though still immense, had no release in this new form.
He needed her and, worse, he wanted her more and more. Galadriel's mere presence silenced the eternal noise tormenting him from within. Thanks to her touch, he ceased to be a monster and became a king. She was the only being in all of Arda who saw him and did not run away. Until yesterday.
“If you don't come...” He glanced at the empty path with desperation he couldn't hide. “...I'll be left alone in this darkness.”
The thought of eternal loneliness, of returning to being a hated shadow, without that one flame who understood him, was unbearable. Galadriel was his downfall and his only chance.
Then he heard footsteps. He raised his head and his heart beat faster. A figure emerged from the direction of the palace. Not in white, but in dark riding clothes. It was Galadriel. He exhaled. The relief that flooded him was so powerful that it was painful. But fear followed immediately. Did she already know?
He stood up slowly. He didn't force a smile. He looked at her with an intensity that betrayed his fear, though Galadriel might have read it as concern.
“I thought you had run away,” he said quietly.
“From what?” Galadriel stopped a few steps away from him.
“From me.” Halbrand took a cautious step toward her, testing her reaction. “After what happened yesterday... when we lost control. I sensed your fear, Galadriel. I thought you considered me a monster.”
“I was scared, but not of you, Halbrand. I was scared of that power,” she explained. “Of what happened when our bodies and minds met. It was... so strange and overwhelming. As if we had awakened something...”
“Then why did you come back?” He still couldn't believe his luck. “If it scares you?”
“Because I have nowhere else to go,” she said with a finality that intrigued him. “I've done things that can't be undone. I'm just as bound to this darkness as you are now.”
Halbrand could see in her eyes that she was telling the truth.
“We're in this together,” she added, placing her hand on his shoulder. “We have to understand this power and tame it before it destroys us both.”
The man breathed a sigh of relief, because his lie had survived and Galadriel was still his.
“Yes,” he said, his voice now filled with genuine, dark relief. “Together. Only you can keep me in control. Without you... this darkness will consume me.”
He embraced her, thanking fate for her arrogance, which made her believe she could tame the storm by being in its very eye. However, Galadriel pulled away firmly. He saw other doubts in her that his confession had not dispelled.
“That's not all that brings me here,” she said, her voice hardening. “Elrond was visiting me…”
“Elrond?” he repeated indifferently. “Did he come to dissuade you from the wedding?”
“He came with accusations.” Galadriel looked him straight in the eye, searching for the truth. “He spoke with Celebrimbor.”
He knew what he was about to hear. He remembered his conversation with Celebrimbor when he admitted that Elrond had broken him. Halbrand had to use all his willpower not to crush the elf's skull against the anvil. He had been so close to losing control.
“What did he say?” he asked, his voice tinged with tension that Galadriel mistook for shame.
“About the accident in the forge and how you cut yourself. That your blood fell into the molten metal and mixed with the mithril. Elrond says it was no accident.” She took his hand, the one with Narya, and lifted it, looking at the red stone. “Tell me the truth, Halbrand. How did it happen? Did you do it on purpose?”
This was the moment. One wrong word and he would lose her. If he said it was an accident, she might not believe him. If he said it was magic, he would look like a monster. He had to find a third way... Halbrand pulled his hand from her grasp and turned his back to her, like a man crushed by guilt he could not bear.
“On purpose?” he laughed briefly. “You think I planned to cut my hand? That it was some kind of calculated ceremony? I... I just wanted to save your dream.”
He turned away, his face showing the desperation he had practiced over millennia of lies.
“That night in the forge, the alloy was unstable. Probably the mithril was fighting with the gold from Valinor,” he said quickly, gesturing. “Celebrimbor was losing control. I saw him panic. Were his work and all the hopes of the elves just going to evaporate?”
He moved closer to her, forcing her to see his anguish.
“I know nothing about magic, Galadriel. I am a man who works with iron. When all this was happening... I wasn't thinking. My instincts took over, and then the accident happened,” he looked deep into her eyes. “Elrond is right, my blood in your rings is unacceptable. But I did it for you. Because I couldn't bear the thought of you leaving with nothing.”
After these words, Galadriel saw in him a man who, in an act of desperation, had risked his own life to save her mission.
“No,” she denied firmly, approaching him and cupping his face in her hands. “This is not a flaw.”
Halbrand froze at her touch, hiding the triumph that pulsed through his veins more intensely than blood.
“Elrond asked me to take off the ring,” she confessed. “But I refused, because I am certain that your blood gave the rings a power that we do not have.”
“You defended me...” he whispered in disbelief.
“I defended us,” she corrected him. “Your blood is now my strength. And my will... your direction.”
“Then teach me,” he said, his voice now tinged with a hunger that Galadriel took for a request to learn, but which was in fact a desire to bind her forever. “Show me what we have created with this sacrifice.”
“I feel it, Halbrand. Since last night... it hasn't stopped vibrating, as if waiting for something.” She raised her hand with the ring, and Nenya pulsed with a bright, restless light.
The man looked first at her hand, then at his own, where Narya responded with the same rhythm.
“I feel it too,” he admitted cautiously. “It's like... a fever. But I don't understand it, Galadriel, because I am human. To me, it is a force that terrifies me. Tell me... you saw the light of the Trees. What did you feel yesterday? By the stable... What was it?”
He asked the question with such innocence that Galadriel did not see the trap.
“I felt...” she hesitated, searching for words. “...as if barriers were disappearing, and my will suddenly had no limits. But I was terrified by what I saw in you, Halbrand. In that moment, when the boundaries between us ceased to exist and our minds intertwined, I saw not a man, but a force older than you. It was something that wanted not only to love me, but also... to consume me, and it was powerful in a way that should not be available to a mortal.”
Halbrand stood motionless. Each of her words was like a sentence. She had described his fëa, which had broken free from its leash for a moment. Instead of denying it, however, he leaned forward in silence, like a man whose deepest secret had just been exposed.
“So you saw it after all,” he said regretfully. “That's what I was running from, and that's why I asked you to leave me. Do you think serving darkness is just scars? That it goes away? Darkness stays with you like sediment. That abyss... is something he left inside me. It is the anger of my ancestors and everything I tried not to be.”
Galadriel looked at him for a long time. Her fear melted away, replaced by compassion. She saw in him a man consumed by the demons of his past, which he fought alone.
“I told you I wouldn't run away.”
Halbrand grabbed her hand and pulled her closer to him.
“I cannot win this battle alone,” he said fervently. “When I am with you... I believe I can win. But when I am alone, it returns... Therefore, guide me, Galadriel. Do not let me drown in who I was. And this strength... this... raw power, perhaps it needs direction? Your direction, Galadriel.”
He reached out and his fingers brushed the inside of her wrist, where the skin was thinnest, then he took her hand and their fingers intertwined. A violent shiver ran through Galadriel's body. It was not the delicate magic of the elves she knew from Valinor.
“What should I do?” Halbrand asked in a whisper that was both a request and a command.
He moved even closer. Galadriel could feel the hardness of his thigh against her leg and the heat radiating from his body. His presence surrounded her on all sides.
“Focus...” she tried to keep her mind clear, though the ring on her finger pulsed with her excitement, and Halbrand's proximity clouded her thoughts. “You must... you must open yourself.”
“I am already open,” he murmured, his other hand moving to her waist, clenching the fabric of her tunic. “Last night, I went inside you to silence your chaos. Now you must do the same.”
His words were shameless. He spoke of magic, but his hips moved slightly, rubbing against her, suggesting something else entirely. It was an invitation to take him in every way possible.
“Come inside me, Galadriel,” he whispered directly into her mouth, his voice low and vibrating. “Don't be afraid of this darkness. Fill it with your light. Fill me. I want to feel you in my head as strongly as I felt you trembling and burning in my arms.”
It was a challenge to her pride and desire. Halbrand was giving himself to her, but in reality, he was setting a trap by inviting her into his mind at a moment of such great physical tension. He desired her soul as greedily as he desired her body. He wanted there to be no place where she ended and he began.
Galadriel closed her eyes, intoxicated by the ambiguity. Her will softened, and the boundaries she had set for herself over the centuries melted in the heat of his request.
“All right,” she whispered, and focused all her will on Nenya.
She tried to tame the wild element she sensed in him. She pushed her thoughts toward him, opening the connection.
It was like jumping into an abyss, straight into an ocean of pure, raw energy. His presence filled every part of her mind, just as it had previously filled her body. It was an absolutely captivating feeling.
“Do you see it?” his deep voice resonated inside her skull. “This is our power, my dearest.”
In the Invisible world that opened up before her, Halbrand looked like a flame that drew everything to itself. Her own will intertwined with his in a dance that was more intimate than any touch. His desire was powerful and directed straight at her. There were no lies in this magical connection, for he wanted her light, her body, and her devotion.
“You are so powerful...” his thought brushed her mind like a caress. “Lead me.”
Dazed by this power, Galadriel looked around. She saw Eregion, but not as a stone city, but as a web of dependencies, fears, and dreams of its inhabitants.
“This is... incredible,” she heard Halbrand's voice. “Is this what the world looks like to you? Like... a mechanism that can be repaired?”
“Yes...” she whispered, overwhelmed by this vision.
“Look over there,” Halbrand directed her attention to the guards on the walls. “They are tired and afraid. What if we could... take away their fear? Put their thoughts in order? Wouldn't that be mercy?”
Galadriel almost succumbed to the temptation. It was so simple. One impulse would be enough.
“No,” she recoiled, frightened by the ease of the thought. “That would be... enslavement.”
“Would it?” Halbrand's voice was full of innocent surprise. “I see only peace. But you know better, my lady. You are the guide.”
His will subtly enveloped hers. He made her feel infinitely powerful and safe at the same time.
“We are one,” he whispered. “Can you feel it? Together... there is nothing we cannot fix.”
Suddenly, her surroundings changed, and she saw a garden. It was not Eregion, nor Lindon. The plants were lush, wild, but beautiful.
“Where are we?” Halbrand sounded as if this place was as foreign to him as it was to her. “Galadriel... what is this?”
Before she could answer, she noticed movement by the fountain. It was a child. A girl was playing with the water, laughing at the sun. Galadriel's heart stopped, squeezed by a sudden, painful pang of longing. She moved closer, drawn by a force she couldn't resist, and then the girl turned around. She had Halbranda's eyes, green, sharp, full of life. But her hair was liquid gold, tangled with silver. She was the perfect, impossible combination of them both. Strength and light.
“It's impossible...” Galadriel was completely lost. “I am not worthy. My hands are stained with blood. My womb is empty, and I am war, not a mother.”
For centuries, she had believed that her destiny was to fight. That she had sacrificed her right to create life in favor of her mission to destroy evil. Halbrand was right next to her, looking at the child in complete amazement.
“Is this...” he stammered, “Is this our...?”
In the vision, the girl saw them. Her face lit up with a smile so radiant that Galadriel felt physical pain. The child reached out to her.
“Nana...” Galadriel heard that word in every nerve of her body.
The vision began to fade, blurring into darkness like a dream from which we wake too quickly, but the feeling of the little hand in her hand remained.
“Look at me,” Halbrand's voice was low and hoarse as he struggled to regain his senses.
Tears streamed down Galadriel's cheeks, which she could not stop. Halbrand's face was close, his dark eyes staring at her with a hunger that this time was not about power, but something much more primal.
“Did you see that?” he whispered.
He didn't wait for an answer. He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs wiping the moisture from her cheeks. His touch was tender and possessive.
“Tell me you saw it too. That girl...”
“It was a vision,” Galadriel said, trying to shield herself from the pain of sudden hope. “The rings... they play on our dreams. It can't be true. I... I can't...”
“Don't say that,” Halbrand interrupted her brutally.
He moved his hand, the one with Narya, from her cheek and placed it flat on her chest, where her heart beat.
“You thought you brought only death? That we were cursed?” he said quickly, intensely, moving his body closer to hers. “But look what happens when we are together and our powers combine.”
His hand slid down from her heart, over her stomach, stopping low, where life could be born. The gesture was shameless, intimate, and frighteningly natural. Galadriel held her breath, feeling her body respond to his touch with a wave of heat.
“There, in that vision...” he whispered into her mouth, not kissing her yet, but teasing her with his closeness. “It wasn't magic. It was blood. Mine and yours. I thought my line would end with me and my mistakes. But the rings showed us the truth we were afraid to name. We can create life, Galadriel. You and me.”
His words were like a spell. He promised her what she thought was lost forever and bound it inextricably to his body.
“I want this,” he murmured, his lips brushing her jaw. “I want this vision to come true. I want to see you like that. Full of life. My life.”
It was his ultimate victory. Galadriel looked at him and saw the father of the child she could have. The desire to be a mother became stronger than any fear at that moment.
“Is it possible?” Her eyes shone with helpless hope.
“Anything is possible.” Halbrand smiled, and in that smile was a dark, sensual promise. “If you stop fighting and let me... finish what we started.”
His hand, still resting on her lower abdomen, tightened possessively. As if he already claimed the right to this place that would bring him an heir. And then he leaned down and kissed her.
But it wasn't the same kiss as yesterday, wild and tasting of dirt. Halbrand kissed her slowly, deeply, with terrifying precision. His lips did not press, but explored her taste, drawing life from her and pouring his own into her. Galadriel surrendered to him completely. In that kiss, she had no doubts.
Narya pulsed against her stomach. It all came together. Halbrand didn't kiss her like a lover, but like someone who knew she couldn't run away anymore because she had just become a part of him.
When his tongue brushed her lips, there was no rush. There was certainty. He tasted her tears that had flowed to the corners of her mouth and turned their salty taste into the sweetness of promise. Galadriel wrapped her arms around his neck. This kiss erased her last doubts and the echo of Elrond's warnings.
When he finally pulled away, just enough to look into her eyes, he did not let her go. His forehead rested against hers, their breaths mingling. He stared at her with a tenderness that was the most dangerous of his weapons.
“We must be careful,” her voice sounded weak, like someone who had just awakened from a deep trance. “This power... it's addictive.”
Halbrand brushed his thumb over her moist, swollen lips.
“I know,” he whispered. “But I'm not afraid with you. You'll be my anchor, won't you? You won't let me forget what we can create?”
“Never,” she promised.
And in that one word, spoken just after such a kiss, she gave him not only her present, but her future as well.
Pages Navigation
Lady_Annatar on Chapter 1 Tue 05 Aug 2025 05:51PM UTC
Comment Actions
ariadna119 on Chapter 1 Wed 06 Aug 2025 08:13AM UTC
Comment Actions
Xanadulys on Chapter 1 Tue 05 Aug 2025 06:53PM UTC
Comment Actions
ariadna119 on Chapter 1 Wed 06 Aug 2025 08:25AM UTC
Comment Actions
jikanzep on Chapter 1 Tue 05 Aug 2025 07:18PM UTC
Comment Actions
ariadna119 on Chapter 1 Wed 06 Aug 2025 08:29AM UTC
Comment Actions
Slime_Sauron on Chapter 1 Tue 05 Aug 2025 08:46PM UTC
Comment Actions
ariadna119 on Chapter 1 Wed 06 Aug 2025 08:31AM UTC
Comment Actions
Lady_known_as_DruDru on Chapter 1 Tue 05 Aug 2025 09:01PM UTC
Comment Actions
ariadna119 on Chapter 1 Wed 06 Aug 2025 08:38AM UTC
Comment Actions
GalAurel on Chapter 1 Tue 05 Aug 2025 09:17PM UTC
Comment Actions
ariadna119 on Chapter 1 Wed 06 Aug 2025 08:44AM UTC
Comment Actions
HereForThePlot (Guest) on Chapter 1 Tue 05 Aug 2025 09:27PM UTC
Comment Actions
ariadna119 on Chapter 1 Wed 06 Aug 2025 09:02AM UTC
Comment Actions
Charfydd on Chapter 1 Wed 06 Aug 2025 01:55AM UTC
Comment Actions
ariadna119 on Chapter 1 Wed 06 Aug 2025 09:08AM UTC
Comment Actions
TiredPonyGirl on Chapter 1 Thu 07 Aug 2025 12:10AM UTC
Comment Actions
ariadna119 on Chapter 1 Thu 07 Aug 2025 08:43PM UTC
Comment Actions
Jill (Aurora2030) on Chapter 1 Thu 07 Aug 2025 03:42PM UTC
Comment Actions
ariadna119 on Chapter 1 Thu 07 Aug 2025 08:50PM UTC
Comment Actions
svtfeminist on Chapter 1 Wed 01 Oct 2025 10:59PM UTC
Comment Actions
ariadna119 on Chapter 1 Thu 02 Oct 2025 05:29PM UTC
Comment Actions
packerfansam on Chapter 2 Sun 24 Aug 2025 04:20AM UTC
Comment Actions
ariadna119 on Chapter 2 Mon 25 Aug 2025 08:03AM UTC
Comment Actions
Xanadulys on Chapter 2 Sun 24 Aug 2025 08:53AM UTC
Comment Actions
ariadna119 on Chapter 2 Mon 25 Aug 2025 08:07AM UTC
Comment Actions
Lady_Annatar on Chapter 2 Sun 24 Aug 2025 10:34AM UTC
Comment Actions
ariadna119 on Chapter 2 Mon 25 Aug 2025 08:17AM UTC
Comment Actions
Slime_Sauron on Chapter 2 Sun 24 Aug 2025 07:38PM UTC
Comment Actions
ariadna119 on Chapter 2 Mon 25 Aug 2025 08:21AM UTC
Comment Actions
Toyroys on Chapter 2 Tue 26 Aug 2025 05:17AM UTC
Comment Actions
ariadna119 on Chapter 2 Tue 26 Aug 2025 09:53AM UTC
Comment Actions
svtfeminist on Chapter 2 Wed 01 Oct 2025 11:21PM UTC
Comment Actions
ariadna119 on Chapter 2 Thu 02 Oct 2025 05:33PM UTC
Comment Actions
Lady_Annatar on Chapter 3 Wed 27 Aug 2025 05:16PM UTC
Comment Actions
ariadna119 on Chapter 3 Thu 28 Aug 2025 10:23AM UTC
Comment Actions
Slime_Sauron on Chapter 3 Thu 28 Aug 2025 03:50PM UTC
Comment Actions
ariadna119 on Chapter 3 Thu 28 Aug 2025 09:08PM UTC
Comment Actions
Jill (Aurora2030) on Chapter 3 Sun 31 Aug 2025 03:01AM UTC
Comment Actions
ariadna119 on Chapter 3 Sun 31 Aug 2025 09:47AM UTC
Comment Actions
Pages Navigation