The lady's heartbeat was strong as she tiptoed through the wood. The exact reason to her stealth was unknown; it was, after all, her own forest, but the urge to be silent was irrepressible. Down to the mirror she crept, her white gown and bare feet making no noise among the brush. In a ritual she had known for countless years, she prepared to dip the silver ewer into the pool, ignoring the small hobbit who had followed her. As she transported the glistening water, she gave a small smile to little Frodo, who clutched the Ring about his chest as if she would take it. She gestured to the mirror, encouraging him to look.
As the hobbit was thrown backwards by the force of the vision, she felt a sudden urge to indeed steal the Ring around his neck. She fought the instinct back, intent on offering wise, guiding words to aid Frodo in his quest. She was a sage, not a thief. Their words were only as loud as the trickle of waterfall behind them, but they were distinctly clear to each other. They spoke of the great journey before the hobbit and the hope the entirety of Middle-Earth held in him. And then, as if by her will alone, he removed the Ring from his neck and held it out to her.
"I would give it to you," he said, "if you asked it."
Instantly Galadriel's heart began to pound. This was exactly what she had been waiting for, exactly what she needed to become the most powerful enchantress on the planet. The nagging voice in the back of her head was instantly crushed by the sheer limitlessness of the power waiting for her. Frodo's hand shook as he gave her the Ring on its silver chain.
The beautiful forest had changed. No longer was it a serene place of learning and prayer, but an oiled machine of weapon production. If any revolted, they were instantly killed. The wood soon became the most feared place in Middle-Earth, more frightening even than Mordor. Though Mount Doom still loomed, oppressive in its size, the Orcs and Goblins behind its walls had spread out, taking the entirety of the planet. Only Valinor was out of their reach, having been instantly revoked from the physical plane when Galadriel took the One Ring of Power. And it was next on the list to fall, Empress Galadriel hunting ruthlessly for the plans to the swanlike boats to take her to the heavenly haven.
As for the Fellowship she had once housed, they had been slaughtered. There was no use for a future king of men, once the Elves began to rule. The hobbits were of no consequence either, being too small and too fat to give any aid. Dwarves were the rivals of the Elves anyway. And the Prince of Mirkwood, Legolas Greenleaf, had been given the option to fall or give in. He fell.
The Ring had accomplished its task.