Disclaimer: It isn't mine. Sorry to disappoint, but I can't really do much about it.
In the Shadows
Chapter Seven – False
They came for me this morning. At first, since I was groggy with lack of food and frozen, I thought they might be coming to let us out. No chance of that ever happening. I am now in another cell, a smaller but more comfortable one, one with a window looking out onto the Dead Land.
The guards who took me away were the so-called 'dark elves', and they frightened me. I never really gave much thought to the whole idea of elves helping Sauron to capture their own people. They were silent and sullen; their movements were stiff and almost hesitant. I could see no trace of the graceful movements that come naturally to elves.
I did not recognize them as elves of Rivendell or Lothlórien and hadn't seen many Mirkwood elves to make judgment. I contemplated asking them, but just as I opened my mouth, they made a sudden stop and threw me roughly into the cell. The climb had been short, though my legs ached furiously after being immobile for so long. One of the guards lingered for a little longer, hissing in common to his partner that he was 'locking up' when he inquired why he was lingering.
The guard then slid the metal barred door back and entered, his steps swift and light. He knelt in front of me and pulled a small cake from under his cloak. He pressed it into my hand, then unfastened his cloak, and took off his thin overshirt. He gave that to me also, smiled hesitantly and turned to leave.
"Wait!" I whispered urgently. He turned back, a worried look on his face. I knew that I couldn't make him stay long otherwise he would get in trouble, and that I wouldn't see another kind face again, but I needed to thank him. I thanked him quietly in elvish, my eyes misting with tears that I was desperate to shed. I blinked quickly and bowed as well as I could in my sitting position.
The guard was alarmed when he saw me bow and immediately came over and hauled me to my feet. I looked fearfully at his face, expecting to see a mask of anger over the guard's fine elvish features, and was surprised to see a look of fear in his eyes.
"You must NEVER do that again, understand?" He hissed urgently, his hand on my arm gripping tightly. "The only person you bow to is the Dark Lord. Never, EVER be caught bowing to anyone but him." His elvish was spoken in a harsh whisper, the words losing the rhythm and song-likeness. I was immediately aware that he was not supposed to be speaking elvish.
The guard then released me, and my weak legs collapsed beneath me. The guard yanked the door back into place with quick efficiency and strode away without a backwards glance. I could feel the fear rolling off him as he left, and this made me wonder at his loyalty to Sauron. This thought led me directly into another: What would Sauron do to him if the guards' loyalty were not true?
I have slipped in and out of consciousness continuously over what I have estimated to be five days. I've noted the daylight as best I could, I have a window now, but the view outside is not inviting. The land is barren and poisoned; I cannot begin to imagine what it must be like to live in such a place forever. The walls of my prison have kept me protected from the outside, and I dare not to hope for better. The window only opens the width of my wrist, not that I have any intentions of escaping. The new cell is at least three storeys above ground level and I do not think my immortal bones would not be crushed by such an impact. Not that I could squeeze through the tiny gap the window makes anyhow.
The guards have not returned, and the small cake is in its last few crumbs. At first, I was hoping that it would be a crude imitation of lembas bread, but the few mouthfuls the cake could give barely kept me strong enough to sit, let alone stand. My joints ache from lying so, my back twisted and my head lolling. I can tell that my sleep is fitful; to fall asleep in one corner and awaken in another shakes me; I have always been a calm, peaceful sleeper.
The noises of industrialism float up to my sensitive ears. The callous sounds of mass production of weapons makes me shiver. Who is left to make a stand against Sauron? I remembered about Gimli trying to knife Sauron, as Legolas had said. I have wondered, often, if I could do something to help, but my only ally is Lady Galadriel, but she is as just a prisoner as I am.
I remember our meeting as if it could have been a dream. Days pass by so slowly, I often find myself wandering the dream realms, in search of a thing long lost. I sense a hint of magic in the air around me, but whenever I look for it, the magic dissipates, leaving me lost again.
I dreamt of a time long past, of the day when I was promised to a young soldier who was to fight in a battle long since ended. Our parents were old friends. Besides, my parents were keen to marry me off, as I was a young and rebellious youngling who irritated my parents greatly. Our family was very proper, and it was considered improper to have the desire of a bow an arrow as a young female elf. After three sons, my mother was overjoyed to have borne a female child, though she was soon regretting her jubilation.
We had been friends a short while before our parents decided we should marry. I was not resentful, only saddened by the thoughts of moving from the home I loved so dearly.
It was his idea. His name was Melidar and he was a young elf from Mirkwood. When I married Melidar, he had to travel back to his family and present me. This was when I met his two brothers, and later on, my last companions, Orodreth and Bereth. They regarded me with an air of hostility. They openly sneered at my magical abilities, but well away from the all-hearing ears of the elders.
It was a twist of fate that I should travel and be captured with my beloved's brothers, the very people who despised me once they set eyes on me. They did not wish to see their younger brother married to an "arrogant princess" from Lórien. Their comments dug deep, but I was always happy around Melidar, as it grieved him to see me less than that.
My dreaming revealed things I had hidden away, fearful that they would make me weak. I dreamt of things long since forgotten in the wake of more urgent matters. We were attacked by a band of men from the east. They looked like outlaws to my eyes, but I later learned that they had broken away from their army, unwilling to lose their lives in a war that was not meant for them. We were traveling back to my home, and Melidar and I were just about to part for the first time since our marriage. We had arranged for my belongings to be moved to a place, which had always been Melidar's favourite spot for thinking. It was not far form the palace in Mirkwood, from where King Tharanduil reigned supreme.
Melidar and I were accompanied by Orodreth, Bereth and two guards to see us safely off; of course I had travelled with two trusted guards from my homeland as well. It was just before we were to part, our farewells had been made, and promises of a fine feast to celebrate my return had been given when a hail of arrows burst from the surrounding trees. Melidar and I were unharmed, but the archers had killed one of my guards and seriously wounded a guard of Mirkwood.
Melidar immediately swung from his horse, Orodreth and Bereth closed in around me to protect me from the arrows. I was mildly irritated. Being naturally physically active, I had practised with my brothers when they trained in the arts and skills of fighting. I was never allowed a bow of my own, yet I was presented with a silver dagger with gems laid in its hilt by my eldest brother, before he left to chase a human girl with whom he had fallen in love. My dagger was at the ready, but the two brothers of Melidar wouldn't not move to let me fight. Melidar himself was firing arrow after arrow, in unison with the arrows from the two guards, of Mirkwood and of Lórien, hoping to fell the attackers before they could inflict mortal wounds. Then, the band of men spurted forth from the forest, the numbers uncountable. Orodreth and Bereth left for some time, unable to fight from their positions. I leapt from the horse and made a kill, but I was not quick enough to block the sword of one clever man. The blade found its way between my ribs, desperate to find my heart. He mouth bit at my neck hungrily and his hands violated my body. Melidar turned and saw this, but I lost consciousness before he could strike.
When I awoke, I was back in Mirkwood, and Melidar was dead. He had died protecting me from further harm, hence the resentment from his two elder brothers. I was swiftly returned to Lórien and no more was spoken of the matter. His family ordered a closed funeral.
I was not invited.
The dreams bring painful memories to mind. Melidar was the gentlest elf I had ever met. I did not love him for long before his was taken, but my trust in love was shaken. This happened many, many years ago, yet I now feel the grief I prohibited myself to feel after Melidar's death.
Two guards came for me this morning, taking me for a short walk to Sauron's chambers. I was ordered to address him as "Lord of Middle Earth" but I refused, not even looking at him when he addressed me. This angered him somewhat tremendously, and he cast me out of his chambers before long.
I was not allowed to see Lady Galadriel, and though I felt her presence when I was being questioned, I could not see her anywhere.
I have not been returned to the cell of Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli. Though I was allowed a brief visit to Tarí and two others of our original group. I chose Orodreth and Bereth, the memory of Melidar's death still fresh in my mind.
The guard's keep reminding me that this was a 'favour' Sauron was allowing me. I was allowed an hour with each person, and it was cause for great jubilation, until I first saw them. Tarí was very much like Lady Galadriel when I first saw her here. Her beautiful hair hung limp, and she was very skinny. She had been put to work weaving and fixing under garments for the creatures who served in Sauron's army. She was overjoyed to see a familiar face, and the time passed too quickly. I let Tarí talk, sick to death of my own thoughts, but she was feeling exactly the same. We talked as fast as we could, but this only made the time pass even quicker. It seemed like minutes, and suddenly Tarí was been jostled away, a needle and thread and a garment that needed repairing thrust into her hands.
She looked so sick, that it broke my heart to leave her there.
I requested that I see my next two together, for what I needed to say to Bereth and Orodreth could not be repeated in the same way. They looked relieved to see me at first, which surprised me, but they must have noted this as they quickly returned to their usual scowls.
"Bereth," I started nervously. "You look well, how are you?" Bereth, always the nicer of the two, smiled and replied that he was well. Orodreth's expression remained unchanged.
"I was granted a 'favour' by Sauron, he allowed me to visit three of my traveling companions in hope to earn information from me. You must be wondering why I chose you two."
Bereth nodded his agreement. Orodreth remained still.
"I have many dreams of late, some of long ago. Many of them are painful to me." I said, watching the two Mirkwood elves closely. A range of emotions played over Bereth's features as he correctly guessed what I meant. Orodreth recoiled angrily.
"Go, you slave-whore" The words were cruel to my ears. "Tell your precious Sauron that we won't be saying anything about anyone!"
I sat back, struggling to stay calm. The two elves had been put to work in an armoury, and the heat was making me feel dizzy. Bereth put his hand on Orodreth's arm and spoke quietly to him, quiet enough so that I couldn't hear what he was saying.
"Melidar meant a lot to me, and I don't know if you two appreciated that." I said as calmly as I could. "I know we will never get along, not as we should. But please, accept my plea to dissolve this hatred between us."
Bereth and Orodreth sat in silence, their faces hard. They did not say a thing.
My visit to Melidar's brothers has left my mind reeling. Sauron ordered me back to my original cell with Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli after my little 'jaunt', as he put it. They were unwelcoming, as they had when I first met them, but they looked visibly relieved and voiced their concerns.
"These two log-head thought you were dead, lass." Gimli rumbled, looking much better than he had when I had left. I was so relieved to see kind faces that I nearly wept. I hugged Gimli briefly, and I could tell he was surprised by the gesture.
"Aw, no need to get emotional, girl. We were here when you left and we're still here now. Now tell us a story to refresh our dusty minds."
I told them about my 'visit' to Sauron and seeing Tarí, Bereth and Orodreth again. Legolas listened with interest when I told the three of them about my dreams revealing Melidar, who I didn't know I had loved and married until the day before.
"Bereth and Orodreth, my two most trusted friends. They came with you?" He asked, his voice soft with amazement. "I thought them to be dead, along with half of the palace staff."
I shook my head, and Legolas looked a little happier, as if a thought that had been plaguing him had been satisfied. I looked at Aragorn. He looked so weary, the skin of his face hanging loosely from his cheekbones.
"You are unwell." I stated, and moved over to see what was wrong, but Aragorn waved me away.
"I am fine, just tired with relief of your safety. We heard screams down here. Screams of someone getting tortured. Legolas could not tell whether those screams were of your throat, so we held our breaths. Five days passed, and the screams were no more. We feared the worst." He said quietly.
I smiled, for the second time. I was warmed that they worried for me. In the dim light, I saw the three hunched figures, all thinking miserable thoughts about their current situation.
When I remember the look on Tar's face when she first saw me, I smile again. I have misplaced the light stone, and this saddens me. It was a sign of my hope, lying dormant until ignited by strong will. The darkness absorbs all thoughts, sucking them away greedily. After fifteen days with the sun on my shoulders in the morning, the darkness of this cell reminds me of horrors I thought long forgotten.
"It haunts you, doesn't it?" Gimli said earlier, when I looked at the dimming light in dismay. Eerie shadows slip across the floor and dreams come to mind. I hope I do not remember anything else tonight.
Lady Galadriel
The view from the room Sauron had given her was not much, but Galadriel was glad for her own room, away from Sauron's advances. She knew that he still wanted her power, she had seen, briefly, into his heart and recognised love. How could he have come to love her? Was it her rebellion earlier? Was it her wisdom? Surely, Galadriel thought, Sauron would not want to consort with an Elf.
Yet, he had tried, and he had taken Galadriel for his own, yet she was not his for the taking. Her mind, her secrets remained hidden, only the upper level of her sub-conscious was available for him to read. Galadriel was glad for the girl, Ayssa. She had helped Galadriel regain some of her mental composure, and she hoped Sauron would let her speak with her again.
But Sauron was angry with Ayssa. He wanted to know why he hadn't recognised her power. Galadriel believed that Sauron was not as powerful as he pretended to be, only yesterday had she caught Sauron cursing his magic for not aiding him in a simple food preparation spell.
Galadriel rose from the bed that was so comfortable it made her feel uncomfortable. She walked to the large windows that opened out onto the arid, desolate land of Mordor. She saw below prisoners, elves, men and other folk, all busy doing something. She observed a group of prisoners trying to build a garden.
"To build a garden, you need life." Galadriel spoke softly, her voice reverberating in the dry air. "In this land, there is nothing but death."
A door opened behind her, and Galadriel closed her weary eyes. She knew that it could only be Sauron, her captor.
"Together, we can give this land life." He said, his voice harsh to Galadriels ears. He came up behind the powerful elf and placed an unwelcome hand on her pale arm. Galadriel looked at the hand in disgust.
"No, that is what you believe, but I know it is not true." Galadriel retorted, turning away from the window and pulling away from Sauron's touch. "You recoil form me, why? It was not always this way." He said silkily, making Galadriel shiver unwillingly.
"That is not true. Besides, our powers cannot unite." Galadriel finished, feeling lame.
"Oh?" Sauron's voice was inescapable. "And what else did that wretched girl show you? Did she show you what I've done? Did she help you undo some of my magic?"
Sauron pulled a box, of elven make, from the fold of his deep black robe. Galadriel watched, knowing that something important lay inside.
"Perhaps she showed you how I came to possess this?" Sauron opened the box, and there, in the folds of elvish silk, lay Galadriel's ring of power, Nenya. The very air around Galadriel trembled.
"How did you get that?" She demanded, striding towards Sauron, her left hand held out in front of her. Sauron moved both of his hands behind his back, out of her reach. Galadriel's hand snaked through the loop of his right arm and grabbed for the box.
"I got it by means of magic, though it was you who gave it to me." His lips brushed Galadriel's cheek as she reached again for the box. At first, she didn't realise that it was Sauron's lips that touched her cheek, thinking it only to be the edge of his hood brushing past. But when Sauron's lips caressed her own, she pulled back, her arms held up as she tried desperately to push him away.
A memory floated into Galadriel's mind, making her limbs limp and weak. As she fell into Sauron's waiting arms, she remembered.
The sun was shining brightly, for a change, the penetrating light reflecting off the trees, casting red and orange light across the delicate pale white of Celeborn's skin. Galadriel lay within his arms, her golden hair splayed across the soft goose feather pillow beneath her head. Celeborn played with Galadriels fingers, kissing each fingertip lightly, and stroking the smoothness of Nenya, which caressed her ring finger on her right hand.
Celeborn covered the finger with his mouth and pulled the ring with his teeth, slipping it off Galadriels slender finger. She smiled, and wagged her index finger at him.
"Now," She said in a bossy tone, but her voice was not raised. "You give that back!"
Celeborn smiled, showing his teeth and Nenya held between them. "You must get it back for yourself!" He teased, leaning forward to kiss her.
Galadriel met the kiss, but she had forgotten Nenya, and so did not notice the absence of her ring in her husband's mouth.
"You!" Galadriel uttered in complete horror and disgust, pushing herself away from Sauron. He had held her to his chest, admiring her beauty, even if it had faded some. He could help her regain that beauty, or so he believed.
"It was the only way to win you, my love." Sauron replied, reaching out a hand to draw her back. "
Galadriel's mind was reeling. "How long?" She asked, remembering all the times her husband ever held her in a loving embrace.
"How long did you pretend to be my husband?"
Ok, you have the right to kill me. But if you take this action, I won't be able to write (although I'm sure I can work something out with whoever's in charge.)
I'm sorry, I really am. I've no excuse this time. puppy dog eyes but that doesn't mean you have to hate me.....right? I had MAJOR writers block. Man, it can be a bitch!
I promise to try extra hard, and try to focus more on Galadriel in the next chapter. Sorry!
In the Shadows
Chapter Seven – False
They came for me this morning. At first, since I was groggy with lack of food and frozen, I thought they might be coming to let us out. No chance of that ever happening. I am now in another cell, a smaller but more comfortable one, one with a window looking out onto the Dead Land.
The guards who took me away were the so-called 'dark elves', and they frightened me. I never really gave much thought to the whole idea of elves helping Sauron to capture their own people. They were silent and sullen; their movements were stiff and almost hesitant. I could see no trace of the graceful movements that come naturally to elves.
I did not recognize them as elves of Rivendell or Lothlórien and hadn't seen many Mirkwood elves to make judgment. I contemplated asking them, but just as I opened my mouth, they made a sudden stop and threw me roughly into the cell. The climb had been short, though my legs ached furiously after being immobile for so long. One of the guards lingered for a little longer, hissing in common to his partner that he was 'locking up' when he inquired why he was lingering.
The guard then slid the metal barred door back and entered, his steps swift and light. He knelt in front of me and pulled a small cake from under his cloak. He pressed it into my hand, then unfastened his cloak, and took off his thin overshirt. He gave that to me also, smiled hesitantly and turned to leave.
"Wait!" I whispered urgently. He turned back, a worried look on his face. I knew that I couldn't make him stay long otherwise he would get in trouble, and that I wouldn't see another kind face again, but I needed to thank him. I thanked him quietly in elvish, my eyes misting with tears that I was desperate to shed. I blinked quickly and bowed as well as I could in my sitting position.
The guard was alarmed when he saw me bow and immediately came over and hauled me to my feet. I looked fearfully at his face, expecting to see a mask of anger over the guard's fine elvish features, and was surprised to see a look of fear in his eyes.
"You must NEVER do that again, understand?" He hissed urgently, his hand on my arm gripping tightly. "The only person you bow to is the Dark Lord. Never, EVER be caught bowing to anyone but him." His elvish was spoken in a harsh whisper, the words losing the rhythm and song-likeness. I was immediately aware that he was not supposed to be speaking elvish.
The guard then released me, and my weak legs collapsed beneath me. The guard yanked the door back into place with quick efficiency and strode away without a backwards glance. I could feel the fear rolling off him as he left, and this made me wonder at his loyalty to Sauron. This thought led me directly into another: What would Sauron do to him if the guards' loyalty were not true?
I have slipped in and out of consciousness continuously over what I have estimated to be five days. I've noted the daylight as best I could, I have a window now, but the view outside is not inviting. The land is barren and poisoned; I cannot begin to imagine what it must be like to live in such a place forever. The walls of my prison have kept me protected from the outside, and I dare not to hope for better. The window only opens the width of my wrist, not that I have any intentions of escaping. The new cell is at least three storeys above ground level and I do not think my immortal bones would not be crushed by such an impact. Not that I could squeeze through the tiny gap the window makes anyhow.
The guards have not returned, and the small cake is in its last few crumbs. At first, I was hoping that it would be a crude imitation of lembas bread, but the few mouthfuls the cake could give barely kept me strong enough to sit, let alone stand. My joints ache from lying so, my back twisted and my head lolling. I can tell that my sleep is fitful; to fall asleep in one corner and awaken in another shakes me; I have always been a calm, peaceful sleeper.
The noises of industrialism float up to my sensitive ears. The callous sounds of mass production of weapons makes me shiver. Who is left to make a stand against Sauron? I remembered about Gimli trying to knife Sauron, as Legolas had said. I have wondered, often, if I could do something to help, but my only ally is Lady Galadriel, but she is as just a prisoner as I am.
I remember our meeting as if it could have been a dream. Days pass by so slowly, I often find myself wandering the dream realms, in search of a thing long lost. I sense a hint of magic in the air around me, but whenever I look for it, the magic dissipates, leaving me lost again.
I dreamt of a time long past, of the day when I was promised to a young soldier who was to fight in a battle long since ended. Our parents were old friends. Besides, my parents were keen to marry me off, as I was a young and rebellious youngling who irritated my parents greatly. Our family was very proper, and it was considered improper to have the desire of a bow an arrow as a young female elf. After three sons, my mother was overjoyed to have borne a female child, though she was soon regretting her jubilation.
We had been friends a short while before our parents decided we should marry. I was not resentful, only saddened by the thoughts of moving from the home I loved so dearly.
It was his idea. His name was Melidar and he was a young elf from Mirkwood. When I married Melidar, he had to travel back to his family and present me. This was when I met his two brothers, and later on, my last companions, Orodreth and Bereth. They regarded me with an air of hostility. They openly sneered at my magical abilities, but well away from the all-hearing ears of the elders.
It was a twist of fate that I should travel and be captured with my beloved's brothers, the very people who despised me once they set eyes on me. They did not wish to see their younger brother married to an "arrogant princess" from Lórien. Their comments dug deep, but I was always happy around Melidar, as it grieved him to see me less than that.
My dreaming revealed things I had hidden away, fearful that they would make me weak. I dreamt of things long since forgotten in the wake of more urgent matters. We were attacked by a band of men from the east. They looked like outlaws to my eyes, but I later learned that they had broken away from their army, unwilling to lose their lives in a war that was not meant for them. We were traveling back to my home, and Melidar and I were just about to part for the first time since our marriage. We had arranged for my belongings to be moved to a place, which had always been Melidar's favourite spot for thinking. It was not far form the palace in Mirkwood, from where King Tharanduil reigned supreme.
Melidar and I were accompanied by Orodreth, Bereth and two guards to see us safely off; of course I had travelled with two trusted guards from my homeland as well. It was just before we were to part, our farewells had been made, and promises of a fine feast to celebrate my return had been given when a hail of arrows burst from the surrounding trees. Melidar and I were unharmed, but the archers had killed one of my guards and seriously wounded a guard of Mirkwood.
Melidar immediately swung from his horse, Orodreth and Bereth closed in around me to protect me from the arrows. I was mildly irritated. Being naturally physically active, I had practised with my brothers when they trained in the arts and skills of fighting. I was never allowed a bow of my own, yet I was presented with a silver dagger with gems laid in its hilt by my eldest brother, before he left to chase a human girl with whom he had fallen in love. My dagger was at the ready, but the two brothers of Melidar wouldn't not move to let me fight. Melidar himself was firing arrow after arrow, in unison with the arrows from the two guards, of Mirkwood and of Lórien, hoping to fell the attackers before they could inflict mortal wounds. Then, the band of men spurted forth from the forest, the numbers uncountable. Orodreth and Bereth left for some time, unable to fight from their positions. I leapt from the horse and made a kill, but I was not quick enough to block the sword of one clever man. The blade found its way between my ribs, desperate to find my heart. He mouth bit at my neck hungrily and his hands violated my body. Melidar turned and saw this, but I lost consciousness before he could strike.
When I awoke, I was back in Mirkwood, and Melidar was dead. He had died protecting me from further harm, hence the resentment from his two elder brothers. I was swiftly returned to Lórien and no more was spoken of the matter. His family ordered a closed funeral.
I was not invited.
The dreams bring painful memories to mind. Melidar was the gentlest elf I had ever met. I did not love him for long before his was taken, but my trust in love was shaken. This happened many, many years ago, yet I now feel the grief I prohibited myself to feel after Melidar's death.
Two guards came for me this morning, taking me for a short walk to Sauron's chambers. I was ordered to address him as "Lord of Middle Earth" but I refused, not even looking at him when he addressed me. This angered him somewhat tremendously, and he cast me out of his chambers before long.
I was not allowed to see Lady Galadriel, and though I felt her presence when I was being questioned, I could not see her anywhere.
I have not been returned to the cell of Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli. Though I was allowed a brief visit to Tarí and two others of our original group. I chose Orodreth and Bereth, the memory of Melidar's death still fresh in my mind.
The guard's keep reminding me that this was a 'favour' Sauron was allowing me. I was allowed an hour with each person, and it was cause for great jubilation, until I first saw them. Tarí was very much like Lady Galadriel when I first saw her here. Her beautiful hair hung limp, and she was very skinny. She had been put to work weaving and fixing under garments for the creatures who served in Sauron's army. She was overjoyed to see a familiar face, and the time passed too quickly. I let Tarí talk, sick to death of my own thoughts, but she was feeling exactly the same. We talked as fast as we could, but this only made the time pass even quicker. It seemed like minutes, and suddenly Tarí was been jostled away, a needle and thread and a garment that needed repairing thrust into her hands.
She looked so sick, that it broke my heart to leave her there.
I requested that I see my next two together, for what I needed to say to Bereth and Orodreth could not be repeated in the same way. They looked relieved to see me at first, which surprised me, but they must have noted this as they quickly returned to their usual scowls.
"Bereth," I started nervously. "You look well, how are you?" Bereth, always the nicer of the two, smiled and replied that he was well. Orodreth's expression remained unchanged.
"I was granted a 'favour' by Sauron, he allowed me to visit three of my traveling companions in hope to earn information from me. You must be wondering why I chose you two."
Bereth nodded his agreement. Orodreth remained still.
"I have many dreams of late, some of long ago. Many of them are painful to me." I said, watching the two Mirkwood elves closely. A range of emotions played over Bereth's features as he correctly guessed what I meant. Orodreth recoiled angrily.
"Go, you slave-whore" The words were cruel to my ears. "Tell your precious Sauron that we won't be saying anything about anyone!"
I sat back, struggling to stay calm. The two elves had been put to work in an armoury, and the heat was making me feel dizzy. Bereth put his hand on Orodreth's arm and spoke quietly to him, quiet enough so that I couldn't hear what he was saying.
"Melidar meant a lot to me, and I don't know if you two appreciated that." I said as calmly as I could. "I know we will never get along, not as we should. But please, accept my plea to dissolve this hatred between us."
Bereth and Orodreth sat in silence, their faces hard. They did not say a thing.
My visit to Melidar's brothers has left my mind reeling. Sauron ordered me back to my original cell with Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli after my little 'jaunt', as he put it. They were unwelcoming, as they had when I first met them, but they looked visibly relieved and voiced their concerns.
"These two log-head thought you were dead, lass." Gimli rumbled, looking much better than he had when I had left. I was so relieved to see kind faces that I nearly wept. I hugged Gimli briefly, and I could tell he was surprised by the gesture.
"Aw, no need to get emotional, girl. We were here when you left and we're still here now. Now tell us a story to refresh our dusty minds."
I told them about my 'visit' to Sauron and seeing Tarí, Bereth and Orodreth again. Legolas listened with interest when I told the three of them about my dreams revealing Melidar, who I didn't know I had loved and married until the day before.
"Bereth and Orodreth, my two most trusted friends. They came with you?" He asked, his voice soft with amazement. "I thought them to be dead, along with half of the palace staff."
I shook my head, and Legolas looked a little happier, as if a thought that had been plaguing him had been satisfied. I looked at Aragorn. He looked so weary, the skin of his face hanging loosely from his cheekbones.
"You are unwell." I stated, and moved over to see what was wrong, but Aragorn waved me away.
"I am fine, just tired with relief of your safety. We heard screams down here. Screams of someone getting tortured. Legolas could not tell whether those screams were of your throat, so we held our breaths. Five days passed, and the screams were no more. We feared the worst." He said quietly.
I smiled, for the second time. I was warmed that they worried for me. In the dim light, I saw the three hunched figures, all thinking miserable thoughts about their current situation.
When I remember the look on Tar's face when she first saw me, I smile again. I have misplaced the light stone, and this saddens me. It was a sign of my hope, lying dormant until ignited by strong will. The darkness absorbs all thoughts, sucking them away greedily. After fifteen days with the sun on my shoulders in the morning, the darkness of this cell reminds me of horrors I thought long forgotten.
"It haunts you, doesn't it?" Gimli said earlier, when I looked at the dimming light in dismay. Eerie shadows slip across the floor and dreams come to mind. I hope I do not remember anything else tonight.
Lady Galadriel
The view from the room Sauron had given her was not much, but Galadriel was glad for her own room, away from Sauron's advances. She knew that he still wanted her power, she had seen, briefly, into his heart and recognised love. How could he have come to love her? Was it her rebellion earlier? Was it her wisdom? Surely, Galadriel thought, Sauron would not want to consort with an Elf.
Yet, he had tried, and he had taken Galadriel for his own, yet she was not his for the taking. Her mind, her secrets remained hidden, only the upper level of her sub-conscious was available for him to read. Galadriel was glad for the girl, Ayssa. She had helped Galadriel regain some of her mental composure, and she hoped Sauron would let her speak with her again.
But Sauron was angry with Ayssa. He wanted to know why he hadn't recognised her power. Galadriel believed that Sauron was not as powerful as he pretended to be, only yesterday had she caught Sauron cursing his magic for not aiding him in a simple food preparation spell.
Galadriel rose from the bed that was so comfortable it made her feel uncomfortable. She walked to the large windows that opened out onto the arid, desolate land of Mordor. She saw below prisoners, elves, men and other folk, all busy doing something. She observed a group of prisoners trying to build a garden.
"To build a garden, you need life." Galadriel spoke softly, her voice reverberating in the dry air. "In this land, there is nothing but death."
A door opened behind her, and Galadriel closed her weary eyes. She knew that it could only be Sauron, her captor.
"Together, we can give this land life." He said, his voice harsh to Galadriels ears. He came up behind the powerful elf and placed an unwelcome hand on her pale arm. Galadriel looked at the hand in disgust.
"No, that is what you believe, but I know it is not true." Galadriel retorted, turning away from the window and pulling away from Sauron's touch. "You recoil form me, why? It was not always this way." He said silkily, making Galadriel shiver unwillingly.
"That is not true. Besides, our powers cannot unite." Galadriel finished, feeling lame.
"Oh?" Sauron's voice was inescapable. "And what else did that wretched girl show you? Did she show you what I've done? Did she help you undo some of my magic?"
Sauron pulled a box, of elven make, from the fold of his deep black robe. Galadriel watched, knowing that something important lay inside.
"Perhaps she showed you how I came to possess this?" Sauron opened the box, and there, in the folds of elvish silk, lay Galadriel's ring of power, Nenya. The very air around Galadriel trembled.
"How did you get that?" She demanded, striding towards Sauron, her left hand held out in front of her. Sauron moved both of his hands behind his back, out of her reach. Galadriel's hand snaked through the loop of his right arm and grabbed for the box.
"I got it by means of magic, though it was you who gave it to me." His lips brushed Galadriel's cheek as she reached again for the box. At first, she didn't realise that it was Sauron's lips that touched her cheek, thinking it only to be the edge of his hood brushing past. But when Sauron's lips caressed her own, she pulled back, her arms held up as she tried desperately to push him away.
A memory floated into Galadriel's mind, making her limbs limp and weak. As she fell into Sauron's waiting arms, she remembered.
The sun was shining brightly, for a change, the penetrating light reflecting off the trees, casting red and orange light across the delicate pale white of Celeborn's skin. Galadriel lay within his arms, her golden hair splayed across the soft goose feather pillow beneath her head. Celeborn played with Galadriels fingers, kissing each fingertip lightly, and stroking the smoothness of Nenya, which caressed her ring finger on her right hand.
Celeborn covered the finger with his mouth and pulled the ring with his teeth, slipping it off Galadriels slender finger. She smiled, and wagged her index finger at him.
"Now," She said in a bossy tone, but her voice was not raised. "You give that back!"
Celeborn smiled, showing his teeth and Nenya held between them. "You must get it back for yourself!" He teased, leaning forward to kiss her.
Galadriel met the kiss, but she had forgotten Nenya, and so did not notice the absence of her ring in her husband's mouth.
"You!" Galadriel uttered in complete horror and disgust, pushing herself away from Sauron. He had held her to his chest, admiring her beauty, even if it had faded some. He could help her regain that beauty, or so he believed.
"It was the only way to win you, my love." Sauron replied, reaching out a hand to draw her back. "
Galadriel's mind was reeling. "How long?" She asked, remembering all the times her husband ever held her in a loving embrace.
"How long did you pretend to be my husband?"
Ok, you have the right to kill me. But if you take this action, I won't be able to write (although I'm sure I can work something out with whoever's in charge.)
I'm sorry, I really am. I've no excuse this time. puppy dog eyes but that doesn't mean you have to hate me.....right? I had MAJOR writers block. Man, it can be a bitch!
I promise to try extra hard, and try to focus more on Galadriel in the next chapter. Sorry!