AN: There is a drabble about Celebrimbor and Sauron on my tumblr in 'the nolde' tag if you want a glimpse of how I imagine the interaction worked... or the direct address is barbarakaterina. tumblr post/148072449106
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Chapter 52: Shock
Year 1280 of the Second Age, Hollin
The danger that was Annatár was now spreading through the realm, and Galadriel had no idea how to stop it.
Ancalimë's son was being given the Sceptre of Númenórë today, and in spite of not having been to the island for two centuries, Galadriel would have probably gone there for this occasion at least, to verify what others say about Anárion's instability – if it was not for this danger.
She had warned Tyelperinquar not to fully trust Annatár after she considered the matter in detail and consulted it with Celeborn, and while he promised her to be careful, she could see in his mind that he still thought her overly cautious, and that he also gave some credit to Annatár's words that she was, perhaps, blinded by her grudge against the Valar. Tyelperinquar did not fully understand what that grudge was, thankfully, and only thought of their hesitation to help in the first age. He thought of his father's own bitterness.
So not only did Tyelperinquar continue to trust Annatár, but, being impressed by the man's skills, he introduced the other smiths and craftsmen of Hollin to him. As far as she could tell, they were all charmed. It was Tyelperinquar with his son who acted as their representatives before her, of course, and they were never short of praise. "My work has never been as good as with his guidance," Tyelperinquar said. "He inspires me in a way not even Narvi ever did. Working with him, I feel that I am finally reaching my purpose in life, doing what I am truly good at."
"My work has improved too," Mírdan added, "and so has that of the others. My friends all keep getting inspired and coming to me with excellent ideas now, even those who...well, who were frankly mediocre until now. There is not one among us who does not love Annatár."
Yes, Galadriel thought, that was the crux of the problem.
She could not convince her people not to listen to Annatár, not when he knew so much. They all listened to her advice and tales from Aman, solemnly declared themselves warned, and returned to working with him.
"I take your warning seriously, cousin," Tyelperinquar assured her for the umpteenth time, "and I listen carefully for any words of treason or strife he might utter, but I swear to you he says nothing. How can he mean harm to us when all he does is advice us with our work?"
Galadriel did not know.
She went to speak to Sarnel about the matter, but her chief commander had few enough answers for her. "You know I do not care about crafting," she said. "I do not interfere in what Tyelperinquar and Mírdan do in the forge."
"Yes, but what do they tell you about Annatár?"
Sarnel shrugged. "That he is talented, good and generous, and inspiring. That they have much to be grateful for, to him."
"They never express any reservations about him, not even to you?" Galadriel had hoped that perhaps they only kept it from her, in fear she would send Annatár away.
"No. I know you mistrust him, but if you want to find someone to share those feelings with you, my son and husband are not those people."
"Does that not...worry you?"
Sarnel seemed wholly unconcerned. "Well, if he truly is a Maia sent by the Valar, we have nothing to fear. And if he is not, if he is merely a Man or elf, then we have nothing to fear either – any attempt to betray us in some way, he will not survive. You know we made sure of that."
Galadriel did. There were many precautions she decided on after a few decades of his visits only growing more frequent, by all accounts, and him seeming to be becoming more and more popular.
"Every time he comes here, I have him watched," Sarnel continued. "Tyelperinquar lets me read the letters he sends him, we make sure no military secrets get anywhere near him." She shrugged. "I do not trust him indiscriminately like my husband does, but frankly, I do not consider him a threat."
Galadriel hesitated. "You know why I do. I told you about the Enemy in Tirion."
"Yes, but he was the most powerful of the Valar. That is surely different."
"Yet he did not gain the Noldor by force. It was by cunning."
"And his cunning led to Fëanáro drawing a sword on his brother, which in turn made the Valar notice and take care of the situation. If it had not been for his power, this would have been the end of it. And it will be the end of it here, if he ever tries anything. That, I can promise you."
Galadriel sighed. Sarnel likely had a point. She still had no proof that there was anything truly wrong about Annatár at all, after all. He could be just a man or elf with unsavory past, attempting to hide it and compensate for it by his good deeds now. It was certain by now that he intentionally avoided her, disappearing every time she came close to a place where she heard he was, but that could have an innocent enough explanation, even if it hardly went with the idea that he was a messenger from the Valar.
Tyelperinquar, of course, had an excuse for that as well, no doubt fed to him by Annatár. "He knows you do not trust him," he said, "and does not wish to face you. I believe he fears...unpleasantness, and so he stays away out of respect for you."
One of the things that worried her most about Annatár was how much easier it seemed to get, with time, for him to feed Tyelperinquar any lie and have him believe it.
She considered who else could give her some information on this matter. Neither Quendingoldo nor Tindómiel had any contact with Annatár. Tindómiel had no interest in crafting, and Quendingoldo's entirely theoretical one, especially in new techniques and materials, was better satisfied by other elves. From what he had said, Annatár had no patience for theoretical discussions, so after trying once, he gave up.
The dwarves of Khazad-dum would have been more interested, for certain, but Annatár never went there and never sought that friendship. Galadriel had warned them against him, too, but she was not so certain they would have heeded that warning had he offered his attentions. As it was, however, Hadhodrond was safe from him, though it also added to her suspicions. Certainly the Valar in general always had more to do with elves, but if Annatár claimed to be from Aulë…? But then, perhaps that was the reason: perhaps he knew that the dwarves, who venerated Lord Aulë the most, would see through him immediately.
After some consideration, Galadriel finally decided to try and speak to Avorneth. She was no craftswoman herself, but like Quendingoldo, she had some theoretical interest, and she was still close to her brother, even though he had drifted apart from the girls during the years, seeking company mostly with the other jewel-smiths. Perhaps she could tell her more than Sarnel, even though she also knew less about Galadriel's real worries. Those were only for the council to be aware of.
She found Avorneth with Celebrían, not very surprisingly, this time on the terrace of Celebrían's room.
"Mother," Celebrían said in that level voice of hers when she entered. "Do you need something?"
"I wished to speak with Avorneth, actually."
"Oh, of course. I will not be in your way."
"I do not mind you being present, beloved. But I doubt you would have the knowledge I seek." She turned to Avorneth. "How much does your brother tell you about Annatár?"
Avorneth chuckled, not looking up from the book she was reading. "To be truthful, he hardly speaks of anything else these days. It is exhausting."
"And you have noticed no signs of reservation on his or your father's regard?" Galadriel insisted.
This made Avorneth look at her. "No. Why should I?"
"I do not trust Annatár, not quite, and I have told your father and brother so, but it seems..."
"Well, if you have, I would not have known it from the way they speak." Avorneth shut her book. "But I agree with you, there is something a little dodgy."
Galadriel blinked. "Do you?"
"Yes. I only spoke to him a few times, at my father's and brother's insistence, and...I do not know. Something is simply not right. You know what it is that I appreciate about crafting, so I just kept asking about how the things he showed the jewel-smiths were done, and not only did he never explain how it worked, not truly, he also...well, he seemed bothered by the questions."
"Quendingoldo told me he was not fond of theoretical discussions," Galadriel muttered, sitting down at the table with the young ladies without being asked.
Avorneth shook her head. "That is not it, though. There are plenty of craftsmen who are like this, simply do their work as they feel it and could not even explain what they are doing if they wanted, not exactly. I know that sort intimately, I grew up among craftsmen – craftsmen and soldiers. Many of both kinds do not much hold with theoretical discussions, to my chagrin. My brother is like that, after all." She gave a small smile. "It makes me all the more grateful for you and Uncle. Anyway, with Annatár the feeling was...different, at least to me. There was, as I said, something dodgy."
"I have never spoken to him, of course," Celebrían said archly, "but I have heard about some of his ideas and I have to say many seem to have merit."
Galadriel was alarmed. "What ideas?" She asked, too sharply, and felt the irritation at her tone in Celebrían's mind before it was hidden in its folds.
"He suggests," she said, her voice perfectly level, "that the...purpose of our staying in Middle-Earth is to work on making it as beautiful as Aman."
"That is not possible," Galadriel objected immediately.
"He says it is. He claims that by devoted work, it could be done, and it is only our misunderstanding of our purpose that prevents us from doing so."
"But I thought you did not care about craft, and thought the most beauty could be found in nature?" Avorneth said wonderingly.
"That is true, but he spoke more generally, and it seems his words apply to that as well...there are plants that grow in Aman, from what I know, that we do not have here. Why? I know, Mother, that you have some mellyrn seeds and that you have not planted them. Again, why?"
Galadriel raised her eyebrows. "I consulted your father. They would not grow here, or if they did, they would wither soon."
That seemed to surprise Celebrían. "Oh. Father said so? Well, I suppose Annatár does not really know much about things that grow, so he might be mistaken about that. A pity. I would have dearly loved to see it."
"So would I, beloved," Galadriel said with a sigh, reminding herself to have Celeborn talk to Celebrían about Annatár and the danger he presented.
Yes, the picture he painted was, in many ways, all she had always wanted: Aman away from Aman. Only to her, that meant having all those she loved by her side again, and that, she knew, could not be promised even by this strange man.
Still, this seemed like the final proof that he was not who he said he was, since no Maia would ever claim such a thing. And she did not quite see why a well-intentioned man or elf would, either.
In fact, as if in a cruel parody, this was reminiscent of the fruit of The Enemy's lies in Aman, promising them the bliss of Middle-Earth, the sweet waters of Cuiviénen. Yes, Galadriel though, I know this story.
Combined with Avorneth's evidence, sweet words that lured her daughter were the last straw, and Galadriel exerted all of her energy in her efforts to finally meet Annatar in person.
She did so him in a forge, surrounded by jewel-smiths whose admiration for him was so clear it was almost palpable.
He obviously sensed her presence, because he turned and looked directly at her. He was a handsome nér, tall and fair with blue eyes that seemed like they hid nothing but honesty and kindness and nobility. She felt as if he hesitated, as if he considered something, perhaps how to greet her with most honour, and her doubts and fears about him were shaken. Surely this friendly-looking nér could mean no harm? The Enemy never looked so kind.
And then she felt his Unwill dissipate and for the shortest of moments, she could see his mind.
It was enough. She knew.
She had never met him before, of course, but she had passed by Tol-in-Gaurhoth many times in her travels north and she had felt the presence of his mind, the same mind she now felt clearly behind those blue eyes.
"You!" She exclaimed.
"My Queen?" He said, in a slightly confused tone.
And then he simply walked away, Galadriel staring after him in rage and fear.
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Galadriel felt like she was stuck in one of those nightmares she had heard Men speak about, where one could not move and could only watch a terrible situation unfolding.
Her other strong feeling was, over and over again: she had lived through this already.
She half-walked in those memories nowadays, of Valinor before its darkening and of words muttered into the ears of the Noldor, words of treason that were listened to because the one offering them had great skill in craft. Oh, Sauron learned well from his master.
There was no treason now, Galadriel's experience at least could take care of that, but that was all she could do. She did not know how to proceed. Tyelperinquar was right, Annatár did seem to only concentrate on doing his work and helping others, and she did not understand that. In Aman, there was no evil in the things the Enemy helped them create, it was in his words, and she was no craftswoman. She could not tell how he could use the help he offered for some darker purpose, she only knew he would.
She had intended to give the order to have Annatár expelled from the realm as soon as she learned of his identity, but when she looked into the eyes of those around her, she suddenly saw, in their unshielded minds, what would happen if she did.
None of them questioned her right to expel him, but they were also firmly decided that they would continue seeking him out beyond the borders of the realm. And that, Galadriel knew very well, could be much more dangerous. The Enemy did less damage when he was still in Tirion than after he ran away. And so, feelingly deeply unhappy about her decision, she let it be and only cautioned everyone to be careful around him as she hurried to call a council.
Her announcement of Annatár's identity was met by stunned silence.
"I should have known the Noldor would be the bane of this realm," Tavoron said then. "Their greed for pretty jewels led them to harbour our chiefest enemy in their midst!"
"This is a Noldorin realm," Tyelperinquar replied angrily. "If you dislike that, you shouldn't have come here."
"I followed my Lord Celeborn, but clearly, I've underestimated the degree to which he is under his wife's thumb!"
"I'm not under anyone's thumb, Tavoron!" Celeborn said sharply.
"Oh, truly? So the appointment of Lady Feliel to this council…?"
"Many would say, my lord, that it was rather your appointment that was the problem!" Feliel almost spat at him.
"People around Annatár say that," Tindómiel pointed out, "so surely-"
"You can't argue it's wrong just because it comes from him!" Feliel exploded. "You know it's true! Tavoron has been nothing but trouble from the start, and he detests me! It doesn't matter who says it-"
"If he is Sauron, then certainly-" Tindómiel argued.
"But is he?" Feliel cried.
"And here we are again, the Noldor defending their own monstrosity," Tavoron said in anger. "Of course Gorthaur would claim my placement in the council was a problem, he knows he has an opponent in me."
"Actually, he never even mentioned himself, my lord." Feliel's tone now turned to bitter irony, uncomfortably reminiscent of Curufinwë. "It was those of your beliefs that are not compatible with Noldorin values that he spoke of."
Tavoron opened his mouth to continue the discussion, likely to express his opinion on Noldorin values, when he was interrupted. "Quiet!" Celeborn called. "This is beside the point. We have Gorthaur in our realm-"
"Do we truly know that, though?" Tyelperinquar asked.
"I just saw his mind!" Galadriel exclaimed.
"But you do not know Sauron's mind intimately, do you? Or do you mean he admitted it to you?"
"No, but I know the shape of his thoughts," Galadriel said, stunned. She was astonished that she was being contradicted. Tyelperinquar knew the strength of her mind. The whole council did.
He frowned. "Well, I mean, Maiar thoughts are likely to be more complicated...when you think about how unlikely this accusation is...what did he say?"
"He acted surprised by my outrage, and left before I could do anything else."
"My Queen...I am not certain...I do not wish to devalue the perceptiveness of your mind, but this..."
"It is true," Quendingoldo agreed in his precise voice, "we cannot simply assume that it would be as easy to recognize Maian minds as elven and human ones."
"I knew Maiar in Aman-"
"Ah, but things worked very differently there, from what I have read."
"-and I knew Lady Melian-"
"Who was your close friend!" Tyelperinquar emphasized.
"So you wish me to just ignore this knowledge-" Galadriel asked incredulously.
"We cannot simply attack him," Aseanettë pointed out.
"Perhaps we could ask him?" Tyelperinquar suggested.
"What, 'forgive me, my lord, but are you Sauron'?" Tindómiel asked in amusement.
"I don't call him my lord, I call him my friend," Tyelperinquar replied sharply, "but yes, precisely like that. If he has a reasonable explanation why you would think him Sauron, well then..."
"You call Sauron your friend and are proud of it," Tavoron muttered angrily.
"Annatár always have a reasonable explanation for everything," Galadriel said at the same time, to Tyelperinquar.
"Well, do you not believe that should be a point in his favour?" Tyelperinquar asked, irritated. "I won't follow you unquestioningly any more, cousin. I don't idealize you as much as I used to anymore, and honestly, I'm starting to think he is right and you are blinded partly by your paranoia, and partly by your dislike of the Valar. I mean, it is a gift that he opened his mind to you at all. He did so to me only after years of friendship-"
"He opened his mind to you?" Galadriel asked, confused. As far as she knew, the Maiar could not hide thoughts in an open mind the way the Children could. If Annatár opened his mind to Tyelperinquar, he would have seen everything.
"Yes, and I certainly saw no Sauron. Just a friend. And he opens up to you – because he wants to make peace with you – and this is your reaction!"
"He only opened it for a split second, so I am not sure about the friendly overtures-"
"And yet you insist you identified him? He probably saw your reaction, and that is why he closed it again!"
"Is it not suspicious that he would not open his mind to you for so long, though?" Tindómiel tried.
"He has a right to privacy! He is a Maia, you cannot expect him to-"
Galadriel put up her hand to stop him. She had heard enough of this argument. "So," she said heavily, "you all agree that we should leave him be for now, and only ask him about the matter?"
Except Celeborn, Tindómiel and Tavoron, they all did.
So that was that.
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Galadriel did not dare leave her kingdom even for a day in such times, and would never bring anyone dear to her in from the outside to face Sauron, but she needed to speak with Artanáro – or at least Elrond, for in truth, she did not believe it wise for Artanáro to leave his kingdom either.
In the end, she sent Celeborn with the message, and then left her own palace like a thief in the night, crossed the river and headed to the Great Forest, where Elrond was already waiting for her. "Beloved," she said, embracing him tightly, and they only stood motionless for a long while. It had been too long. It was always too long.
"I heard you have a warning for us," he said then, "but we have one for you as well. One who calls himself Annatár appeared in our kingdom recently-"
"Did you grant him your ear?" She asked immediately, alarmed.
"No, we banished him from the realm. That was what I came to warn you about."
"Praise the Valar! He is the one my warnings are about as well."
"Do you know who he is?" He asked curiously.
"You do not?"
"No. Artanáro only felt very strongly he was not to he trusted, and I agreed with this opinion."
"Thank the Valar for your wisdom."
Elrond smiled. "Do not thank the Valar, Aunt, thank yourself. You are the one who taught us." He paused. "So, who is he?"
Of course they did not know. How would they? Elrond had not been alive yet, and Artanáro had been very young. Galadriel took a deep breath and replied: "Sauron."
Elrond's eyes widened in incredulity. "Himself?"
"Yes. Like his master before him, he can take on a fair form. You were lucky – he does not know you, and so he went to Artanáro directly, asking for support and reception. He underestimated the king, and gave you a chance to banish him. With us...Sauron knows me, remembers me from Beleriand, he heard my voice utter the curse. He approached my people first, and before I learned of it, he already had their trust. I put them on their guard to a degree, but I cannot convince them to cast him away, and I know that if I made it a royal order, they would only look for secret ways to meet him. I prefer to keep watch over it."
"Have you not told them who he was?"
"Oh, yes. But he claims he is, instead, another Maia of Aulë's, sent as a messenger from the Valar to us, and that I am mistaken in his identity. Recognizing the Maiar is hard, he says, harder than elves. It is no wonder your queen gets a little, ah, confused." Galadriel shuddered. "I do not believe him, but that is the worst part: I cannot be completely sure, can I? If I could, I believe I might have gone and gathered the remaining elves who remember the Light and attacked him directly, but that is the problem. I saw his mind, yes, but so did Tyelperinquar and he claims there is nothing wrong with him."
"Could he have been tricked somehow?" Elrond asked, frowning in thought and leaning on a tree that protested the treatment with a slight grunt. Elrond gave it an apologetic look and straightened again.
"I thought about it, yes," Galadriel said, "and it might be possible – arts of the mind are not Tyelperinquar's strongest suit, after all – but I have never heard of such a thing, and I know my council would laugh at me if I suggested it. And Annatár has not done anything I could fault him with as yet, and I cannot make an unprovoked attack on a guest in my realm."
Elrond sighed. "It is rather like the Elder King in Aman, is it not? He, too, could not act, and for similar reasons, from what you have told me."
"It is not quite like that, for the Enemy, though he did not attack, was spreading lies and discord. Annatár is not. That is the problem." Though it was true that in the last years, her sympathy for the Elder King had grown exponentially.
"Does he control them by his mind?"
"No. I wish he did. Then I could attempt to undo the spell, and I would not feel so...betrayed. No, there are no spells in this, only his cunning. The only thing I could do is make the people turn him away, but I cannot change their minds entirely...not without forcing them."
Elrond seemed worried, not missing the weight in her words. "Is the temptation very great?" He asked.
"Beyond anything I have ever known," she replied simply. "Before, it was always a land ruled by another that I was fighting to save. But this is my kingdom, my realm, and they are my subjects." She paused. "I think I understand, now, why I was never Queen before. I have hope that I will resist this temptation. If it came fifteen hundred years ago, I know I could not have."
"Does Uncle…?"
"Yes, he stands by me, unwaveringly. Without his support, I would have given in already. But it is hard, beloved...so hard."
He embraced her. "You are the strongest person in Middle-Earth, Aunt. I know you can resist."
She smiled sadly at him. "There are different kinds of strength, and I am not certain I have much of what is required here. But that is one of the reasons I asked you to meet me here of all places."
She turned. The Eldest was standing to the side, watching them. "Thank you for coming, my lord," she said.
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Her visit with The Eldest helped for a time, but the temptation returned soon enough, in her despair and powerlessness. With every good word she heard said about Annatár it returned, with every new invention of his that she heard about. It was a constant battle, every hour of every day, one person at a time, turning away, and that voice in the back of her head always whispering: do something, they are your people, you have to protect them, this is your realm, this is everything you have ever dreamed of, do not let him take it away. He already took your brother, will you let him take this from you as well, this child of yours you have dreamed of for ages? You almost killed your child of flesh and blood, and now you will let this child of spirit and will die too? Do you even love anything beside yourself? What kind of Queen are you, unable to protect your own people from the most terrible servant of the Enemy? Not even the kings you called fools allowed him to walk freely in their realm. Do something, anything, do absolutely anything in your power to prevent the disaster…it does not matter any more, you are a monster already, you know that, what difference does it make if you make one step further in the abyss? This time, at least, it would not be for your selfishness, it would be to save your people...you are lost anyway, so just do it, do it...
It was in those voices that she saw Sauron's plan in full. There was no way for him to lose.
Either she would not give in, and her people would fall to him sooner or later, though she knew not how; or she would give in, and she, one of the last elves from Aman still in Middle-Earth and so one of the greatest dangers to him, would fall.
And seeing this, she wept, full of despair.
She dared not say anything about her temptations to anyone except Celeborn, for she feared how they would look at her if she did.
She looked out of the window of her chambers to the terrace bellow, where Celebrían was walking with Avorneth.
Galadriel was worried by that friendship for the first time in her life, because she knew Avorneth and her family could put Celebrían in Sauron's reach. She suspected this was how her daughter heard of Annatár's speeches about Aman away from Aman. Hopefully, though, the serious talk Celeborn had with their daughter would be enough. It seemed it was, at any rate. Her daughter's mind was open to her and Celebrían clearly believed Celeborn's warnings, took them seriously enough and never spoke to Annatár.
Perhaps it was also that he had no desire to speak to her. Celebrían was no skilled craftswoman and he knew that if Galadriel suspected but for a moment that her daughter was in danger, her caution would be lost and she would have attacked him, whatever the cost. After all, it was one of the things that had prompted her to confront him personally. It was not worth the risk for him, and for that, at least, she was grateful.
Celeborn stepped to her and embraced her from behind. "Have strength, my love."
"But how long, Celeborn? How long?"
"As long as will be needed, like before."
Galadriel, however, shook her head. "Before, we were waiting for the Valar to hear our pleas, for we knew we had no hope without them. But they won't come for Gorthaur, I know that. This is our fight. We were ready to take attack East two decades ago, but now? What can we do now?"
"We knew some of the scouts were caught," he said, pain in his voice. "We knew he'd know we were getting ready. We knew retribution would come."
"Yes, retribution! I expected that, I was ready for war, I know war, I've lived in it for hundreds of years...but this, Celeborn? Eating at my realm from the inside, and I unable to do anything? This I didn't expect."
"He is the master of lies," was her husband's reply.
"Yes. I should have known it, I have seen Morgoth in Aman...and Gorthaur learned from the best. But when he readied his army in the East and built his tower, I really believed it would be a regular war, like before."
"It would have been, if we gave him enough time. But he hadn't been ready, and so he chose this instead."
Galadriel looked over her realm again. "Everything...they take everything from me," she muttered.
"It isn't over yet," Celeborn reminded her. "We'll fight him, if not with swords, then with words."
"Yes, we'll fight him," Galadriel replied tiredly. "But can we win?"
"What of your curse?"
"I said he'd never achieve his goal completely...but there is no saying how much he'll destroy in the attempt. I can't even curse anyone properly!"
"My love..."
"I'm so tired, Celeborn. So very, very tired. Resisting...every hour of every day...I'm so very tired."
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AN: I imagine the scene in the council much like the argument in Elrond's Council from the films.