Author's Note:

Thanks to aiholic, Kandragon, BrightPath2, Raider-K, PadawanLilia, OlivierMira89, Certh, ATP, Jesus' girl 4ever and Smiley for their kind reviews!


Chapter 8

"Hold it up higher."

Thranduil obeyed and raised the shard well above his shoulder's length. Celebrimbor ignored his discomfort and peered at the shard, his hologram flickering briefly. Then he shook his head.

"There is little I can discuss with you," he said. "I will need to examine the shard properly in person."

"When will you arrive?" Thranduil asked. He set the shard carefully in a containment box and sealed it.

"I am afraid I cannot." Celebrimbor answered. Thranduil looked up in surprise. The smith smiled a little and shook his head. "There are many errands here that demand my attention."

"Galadriel was nearly assassinated," Thranduil said in disbelief. He gestured his right hand at the box. "And the one who did it is no doubt either the maker of this crystal or the buyer of it. Surely you would like to know who was behind it."

Celebrimbor shook his head.

"I am sorry but I cannot leave this place. Some of the projects are at very sensitive phases." Celebrimbor hesitated. "How-how is Galadriel?"

Thranduil did not miss the silent longing in Celebrimbor's voice. So the rumours were true. He heard that long ago Celebrimbor had strong feelings for Galadriel. It was rumoured he even spoke of it to her, but Galadriel rejected him. It seemed as if he still had feelings.

"Well," Thranduil answered in a measured tone. "She is strong."

"Yes, she is." There was pride in Celebrimbor's voice.

"Celeborn was worried for her safety but he made sure he sent a larger company than before." Thranduil continued. Celebrimbor's smile dampened. He felt slightly malicious for doing so, but Celebrimbor needed to accept the hard reality. If the rumours and what he just witnessed had any truth, then it explained why Celebrimbor never married.

"What can you tell me about the crystal?" Thranduil questioned. "I need something I could use."

Celebrimbor leaned back in his chair, one arm folded over his chest and the hand of another flipping a coin as he thought. He was a handsome Elf, in a different sense. His features were sharp and refined like the rest of the Noldor. He wore his hair long, braided away from his place and usually pinned down with gilded clips. His dark eyebrows were thicker than usual and arched. His face was forever set in grimness, but Thranduil was never able to seek fault in that. Celebrimbor lived a difficult life and always tried to distance himself from his lineage. One thing he did inherit from the House of Fëanor was the gift of metalwork. It interested him, and he always had an unquenchable thirst for it for as long as Thranduil knew him. At times, Thranduil found him wearying for this very reason, but he never denied that in many things, Celebrimbor offered valuable advice.

"Well, it is of fine make, so the assassin certainly spared no expense." Celebrimbor said. "The smiths from every system have a different way of cutting gems. Individual smiths like to leave a mark on a gem to make it their own. I will have to examine it closer to tell you more. You said the crystal felt..." Celebrimbor flipped the coin in the air and caught it in his fist, "different?"

"It did," Thranduil affirmed. "It was filled with the dark side of the Force and something else. But I am not sure what." His finger traced the blue inlays on the box. "Is that even possible?"

"It is possible to fill an object with a part of your power." Celebrimbor said thoughtfully. "It is something Annatar is teaching us."

"Annatar?" Thranduil interrupted, alert. His thoughts went to the handsome Maia he met in Rivendell and how his instincts shrieked until he left. Celebrimbor nodded.

"Yes," Celebrimbor explained. The smith was not the kind to easily show he was impressed but this time he certainly sounded so. "Annatar is talented with metallurgy. He showed us how to mix the metals precisely at the right quantity in order to pour some power in them."

Thranduil frowned.

"We Jedi learned something similar." Thranduil said. "We were taught that we can pour the Force into an item but it is always at a cost. You have to give some of your own Force for doing it."

"Same is the case here," Celebrimbor said. "Do you know what it means? The possibilities are endless!" Thranduil was not sure that he liked Celebrimbor's enthusiasm. He patted the containment box.

"This had both the Force and... Something else. Was it possible that it was unstable?"

"Highly likely," Celebrimbor nodded. "Tell me, the girl; what happened to her precisely?"

"She was unharmed physically." Thranduil said. "There were minor cuts from where the shards hit her but that was all. The main damage was to her Force. It was depleted after the crystal broke."

"Then most likely it was unstable." Celebrimbor said. "It happened for us as well. We poured too much power in a ring and it broke-" Celebrimbor tapered off and offered him a wry smile, "I am boring you."

"A bit," Thranduil conceded with a guilty laugh. "But the topic falls under my investigation, unfortunately. Continue." Celebrimbor shook his head.

"Again, I will need to look at it personally." Celebrimbor finished. Thranduil sighed.

"I will see what I can do."

"Splendid," Celebrimbor said. He paused. "I will do anything I can to help Lady Galadriel."

"Celebrimbor-" Thranduil began.

"Don't," Celebrimbor interrupted. He smiled ruefully. "I must go." Thranduil was barely able to say goodbye when the communication cut off. He shook his head and glanced out the window. It was still dark.

"Might as well sleep," he muttered.


Her feet were bare.

She stood on a high ground, the land dipping and rising in many places. The black soil churned when she wiggled her toes. It was soft and warm to the touch. The air was humid and heavy. The sky was black laced with red. She barely saw a few feet from her in the shadow.

She knew where she was. This was the planet Mordor. Very few dared to enter it. So why was she here?

Sounds of a battle filled her ears. Galadriel turned frantically. Elves, Men and Dwarves appeared out of nothing and surrounded her. Fell creatures like Orcs, Wargs and others fought the Free People. They snarled and hooted. The stench of blood, dead and war filled her nose. Galadriel coughed, shaking in terror. Was she asleep? She needed to awaken!

The scenery changed. She now stood in a long throne room. The floor was arranged with brown tiles in numerous shades in an intricate pattern. The pillars on either side were carved to mimic leaves. A single throne stood at the far end of the room.

At first, she thought it was Oropher on the throne. She took one step after another. The figure on the throne was dressed in dark green and brown, head bowed low until his chin nearly rested on his chest. His arms were limp over his armrests. He raised his head and Galadriel's blood ran cold.

Thranduil sat in his father's place, the King's crown resting on his head. He was grim but the light in his eyes were fractured, as if he had seen so much grief.

The landscape changed. She stood in a cave with roughly shaped walls and dome-liked ceiling. There was barely any light coming from the dimly lit torches. She heard quiet sobbing. Entranced, Galadriel followed the voice, until she caught sight of a figure in a grey dress huddled against the corner of the cave. Silver-golden hair, much like hers covered half of that slender body. The hair, normally meant to shine, was matted and dull. Dread filled her. She took one hesitant step and loose stones scattered by the movement of her bare feet. The figure stopped crying and looked up. The eyes were her husband's but the rest of her features unmistakably resembled her own.

Galadriel woke, a scream ringing in her ears. Her bedroom door whizzed open. The scream did not stop. Haldir hurried inside, one hand on his sword and the other carrying a blaster. It took her a moment to realise that bloodcurdling scream belonged to her. She abruptly stopped and breathes heavily. Her chest heaved.

Haldir returned his blaster to its holder and knelt by her bed.

"It was nothing." Haldir soothed. He took her cold, clammy hand in his dry and warm ones. "Merely a dream, my lady."

"It was no dream," she croaked out. Haldir frowned and released her hand. He went to a nearby table and filled her glass of water. He returned and pressed the glass in her hand. She accepted it gratefully.

"Visions, my lady?" Haldir queried. Galadriel took one sip and lowered it, anxious.

"The aides, Haldir-" Haldir understood.

"I sent them away." He answered. "None were here when you called out."

"What did I say?" Galadriel asked quietly. Her voice regained some normalcy. She finished the rest of the glass.

"You spoke in the old dialect, my lady. I am not versed in it."

Galadriel gave the glass back to Haldir and leaned back in her pillows. The old dialect. Haldir meant Quenya. It was ancient, and barely a few people were versed in it. Galadriel heard it since she was a child. It was her native tongue. Mostly the Noldor understood and spoke it.

Galadriel felt old.

"The visions are getting out of hand," she murmured. Haldir, who was setting the glass back on the table, looked at her in worry. From his expression, she doubted he heard what she said.

"My lady?" He asked. Galadriel gave him a weary smile.

"It is nothing, my faithful captain." Galadriel comforted him. "Go. I will be fine now." The Elf hesitated but Galadriel did not rescind the command. Haldir nodded but he did not seem convinced. She smiled lightly in reassurance and Haldir, somewhat comforted, left.

Sleep did not arrive for her. Instead Galadriel tossed and turned under the covers. Her mind buzzed with the visions. She knew she could not wholly trust them: a man could choose from a thousand possibilities and each one brought endless consequences. And yet...

Morning could not have come sooner, in Galadriel's opinion. She gladly left the bed as soon as the first golden light seeped through the holes in her bedroom shutters. When the door whistled open, it was her aide who came instead of Haldir.

"Did you sleep well, my lady?" The maiden asked after her initial greeting. Galadriel thought back on her visions that plagued her and gave as bright a smile as she could manage.

"As well as could be," she said lightly. The aide looked at her with a scrutinising gaze before nodding slowly. Galadriel kept her smile. Sometimes she wondered if her aides were even true to her. Coruscant was full of spies and assassins for politicians and information is easily bought when you have an aide, a bodyguard or a helper of a politician in your pocket.

One might argue that the Elves were strongly knit. No Elf would deceive his kind. But Galadriel knew better. Even Elves were capable of dark deeds. History dictated that long ago.

"Shall I call in for breakfast after you have refreshed, my lady?" Her aide's voice broke through her doubts.

"Of course," she answered absently.

When she was finished eating, she inspected the outfit her aides laid hot for her. The dress decorating the mannequin was pretty but it was not the kind that Galadriel liked to wear. The neckline was wide and meant to leave the shoulders bare. The deep green silk wrapped around the mannequin closely and flatted at the knees. Its sleeves were fitted and ended in points. A golden sash wrapped around its waist and hips, accenting both. Galadriel looked at the dress and then looked at her aide.

"It will look wonderful on your frame, my lady." The aide answered her unspoken question. She folded her hands in front of her in an unspoken challenge. Galadriel studied her.

"I would like something else," she replied. The aide's smile never wavered.

"Humour me, my lady." The aide insisted. She turned and said before Galadriel could argue, "Your bath waits." Galadriel watched her leave.

"I am a Senator, and I cannot even order my aides." Galadriel muttered to herself. "Shame on you, Artanis." She heard her aide call her again, dimly, from the adjoining bathroom. Sighing, Galadriel went.

The walk to Chancellor's office was a pleasant one, even with trepidation pooling in the pit of her stomach.

She was stopped by the Senate guards outside the door. She smiled serenely at them both.

"Let me in," Galadriel ordered, placing one hand over the palm of another. "I assure you the Chancellor will like to take my call."

The guards looked at each uncertainly. Galadriel continued to smile sweetly at them. She learned one thing; females hold the power of being exceptionally forbidding by just being females. So she tilted back her head, squared her shoulders and stared down both the guards. They shifted slightly before mumbling that they will speak to the Chancellor. One of them went inside and in a short duration, came back to let her in.

"Thank you," she said gaily as she entered.

The room was comfortably cold. It was homely in colours of red, brown and gold. The Chancellor's desk sat in front of the window, his back to the scenic beauty outside. She barely understood why. If it were up to her, she would have the desk facing the window. The Chancellor sat on his chair and his second-in-command stood behind him, ever vigilant.

"Senator Galadriel," the Chancellor greeted her with a cordial, almost warm smile, as if she did not just try to brave her way past his guards. "This is an unexpected meeting."

"I merely wanted a moment of your time before the duties of the day swept us both away." Galadriel answered with her smile just as warm as his. It was all a game, she thought inwardly. A front; she doubted that man truly felt anything.

"Please," Palpatine gestured with one hand towards a chair in front of his desk. He was old, but age suited him. There were slight wrinkles at his temples, around his mouth and near his eyes. His hairline was receding and his hair was more grey than silver. Galadriel delicately shook her head, her smile still in place.

"Like I said, I will only take a while." Galadriel reached the chair and bit down the urge of resting her hands on the top of the seat. If she did that, then she knew how it would seem; as if she was impatient and restless. So she kept her hands folded in front of her and ambled around the chair Palpatine indicated. The Chancellor's smile wavered slightly.

"I was considering your offer for a bodyguard from the lines of the Jedi," she said. She leaned forward and traced the straight lines of burgundy paint varnished into the wood. "It was so touching that you cared so much for my safety that you chose not only a knight from their ranks but also one related to me."

"Senator-"

"But at the same time, I think it is nothing but a waste of resources," Galadriel continued as if she did not hear Palpatine's interruption. "We all know that the Jedi are meant to protect the galaxy and not just one person-"

"My lady, I assure you, your life is-"

"I insist not to waste such valuable resources over something so trivial," Galadriel continued. "It is better to just," she looked up and smiled, her palms rubbing together. "Reinstate Thranduil to the investigation." Palpatine fell silent.

"It seems," Palpatine said at length. "There is little I can say to change your mind."

Satisfied... And a little smug, Galadriel straightened and leaned back in her seat.

"None, really," she answered him. Her eyes met those of his second-in-command. He had an ugly face, which become uglier when it morphed into distaste while he looked down at her. Galadriel met his gaze squarely with soft eyes that were hard enough to project her strength. The humanoid looked away but his expression did not change. She did not care what the humanoid thought of her. She learned one thing from politics; to get your way, you have to take certain risks... And be foolish now and then.

"Wonderful," Galadriel said brightly. "I will inform Thranduil of this news personally as soon as I find him spare of time."

When she left the office, she allowed her smug little smirk grow into a full goading grin.

"And they say females aren't powerful," she drawled to herself. With a skip to her step, she went in search of Senator Organa.


He was greeted with the sight of Glorfindel holding a baby in his arms, swaddled in a fawn-coloured blanket. Apparently, Thranduil interrupted their play.

"Are you hiding something you haven't told me yet?" Thranduil jokingly said. Glorfindel lowered the babe with a laugh and cradled it on his arm.

"If I was hiding a bundle of joy, I'd tell you at least." Glorfindel said. The baby gurgled happily and his hand latched on to Glorfindel's hair. "This child was recovered from slavers. His parents are dead." The baby tugged hard on the chunk of golden lock. Glorfindel winced. "He shows great affinity to the Force."

"How great?" Thranduil asked. As if in answer, a book lying on Glorfindel's side table rose in the air. The baby's forehead was scrunched into a frown.

"That great," Glorfindel answered. The book fell with a thud. The baby released Glorfindel's hair and drooled.

"A Force-sensitive," Thranduil observed. Glorfindel nodded.

"There is a young couple in Gondor eager for a child." Glorfindel said. "They are kind. And gentle. He will be well taken care for." Thranduil inclined his head. A glass hovered in the air. Thranduil lunged from his chair and grabbed the glass before it dropped. He set it on a table and sat back.

"They will have their hands full with this one." Thranduil remarked. Glorfindel laughed.

"Do you want children?" Glorfindel asked. Thranduil looked up, surprised, and gave a baffled laugh. Glorfindel's face was perfectly serious. Thranduil's smile faded.

"You are serious," he noted, still in surprise

"Perfectly."

Thranduil sighed and extracted his finger from the boy. The baby turned his attention to Glorfindel's robes and began to tug on them.

"I never truly gave it much thought." Thranduil responded. "The chances of marriage and a family were finished once I joined the Order."

"But you can have a family." Glorfindel persisted. "I have married and I am sure you can as well-"

"Do not try to assuage your guilt by forcing me into marriage as well," Thranduil snapped. Glorfindel became quiet immediately. The baby, as if sensing the discord between them, gave a low restless whine. Thranduil took in a calming breath. Glorfindel rocked the baby back and forth. "I know why you ask. You jumped into wedlock the first chance you were given-"

"I love her," Glorfindel's voice was low and dangerous.

"And I am sure you do." Thranduil said. "But that doesn't change the fact that you broke your vows to the Order in return for these marriage vows. It drives you with guilt because you are the kind of a person who is staunch to follow the rules and when you don't, it gnaws you from the insides." Glorfindel's jaw clenched and unclench at frighteningly slow speed.

"Sometimes, Thranduil," Glorfindel said in the same dangerously low voice. "Even your sensible opinions warrant the desire to punch you."

Thranduil laughed. Glorfindel offered him a tiny smile.

"Well, then, you wouldn't be the first."

Glorfindel's smile grew and they moved on to safer topics.

On his way back, Thranduil met Yoda on the way. They both inclined their heads and exchanged a greeting. When they passed, Thranduil stopped in his tracks and turned on his heel quickly.

"Master Yoda! A word, please."


Thranduil's knee ached dully for kneeling so long but he kept his position. He rested one hand on his raised knee and the other flat on the ground. Yoda paced in front of him, his wooden cane tapped rhythmically over the floor.

"Back home, you must go." Yoda finally said. His eyes opened but he did not meet Thranduil's gaze. Instead he stared at the ground, with the same quiet air he always possessed. Thranduil tilted his head. Sometimes he thought Yoda was sorrowful than at peace. But then the duty of Grandmaster was a heavy burden. "The answers you seek, find them you will."

"Thank you, Master."

"Tell me, you will, of what you found."

"Of course, Master."

"And when you return, a mission I have to give."

"I will then return as soon as I can." Thranduil said, a promise in his voice. The Grandmaster nodded. Thranduil took it as a dismissal. He rose up to his full height and excused himself.

Thranduil returned to his room and packed a bag for him to take. He took his bag. Glorfindel was unavailable, so he left word of farewell to one of the Initiates.

He went to visit Galadriel next.

He found her easily, buried in work. She was in her rooms, in the office. The sun was just setting.

"You look more beautiful in the morning." Thranduil praised her. Galadriel snorted.

"Charming as ever," she said. "I have taken you off the leash." Thranduil blinked.

"What?"

"Chancellor Palpatine decided that you are more useful without playing bodyguard."

"Good," Thranduil said. He held up the containment box for the crystal shards. "I have to meet with Celebrimbor." Galadriel looked at him in surprise.

"Celebrimbor? Why?"

"I have a theory," Thranduil answered briefly. "I will tell you once I find something valuable." Galadriel smiled warmly.

"Then I must give a proper goodbye," she decided. "And I hope you find a proper solution." Galadriel rose from her chair and walked around it. She embraced him as soon as she neared him.

"Be careful," Galadriel whispered in Thranduil's ear. "Hollin has changed greatly since you visited it last. And my kin, Celebrimbor, has changed as well."

Thranduil frowned, not knowing what to say.


Author's Note:

I apologise for the lateness of this chapter. I am a bit tied down, so my inspiration usually works on auto when RL gets tough.

Do leave a review! :)

aiholic- Yay for another person of who likes a mashup of these two universes! :D And double yay for your views on Thranduil. It matches mine. ;) What did you think of Tauriel?