Chapter 56: Tricked
Year 1692 of the Second Age, Lindórinand
Tyelperinquar was dishevelled and out of breath when they brought him to her, but the first thing he did was falling to his knees before her and saying desperately, almost hysterically: „I am sorry, cousin...my queen, I am so sorry. You were right, right about everything, and we were all so wrong...I was so wrong...once again, I ruined everything and I..."
She stared at him. She had not thought she would ever see him again, and so her thoughts about him had been dominated by pity. Now that he was before her, however, she felt her anger stirring as well, anger at his betrayal. She did her best to control it. You can hardly blame him for being deceived by Sauron, she thought. You did not stop speaking to your uncle after he believed the Enemy's lies either. „Rise, Tyelperinquar," she said. "What happened?" Because she remembered what Sarnel had said, that he would never recognize his mistake. She trusted her niece to know her own husband. It must have been something truly extraordinary that brought him here.
He took a deep breath. His face was drawn, and he looked almost like one of the Men in their old age. She was reminded of Singollo, when he thought Lúthien was dead. "He...he tricked us all," he managed to say, in a shaky voice. "Annatár, he tricked us. We made rings, rings of power, rings that could enhance one's own skills and talents, and he helped us make them, but he...he made his own ring, just one, to rule all the others, and he put it on and suddenly he could see us, could control us...we took them off immediately, and we ceased using all that he gave us or taught us, and destroyed what we could, and we want to beg you, cousin, my lady, my queen, come back."
We. Who was we, Galadriel wondered? Him and Sarnel? Mírdan too, perhaps? Or have the other smiths woken up as well? Not that it mattered. This was what she had hoped to hear immediately after she left Hollin, even though she had known it would not happen. A hundred years ago, she had hoped they would all run, after what she showed Sarnel in the mirror. Now it was too late for that as well.
For the first time, Galadriel was grateful for what the Mirror took from her, for not having the visions any more. She only felt a vague hint of premonition now, at Tyelperinquar's words. She knew that before, new and terrible visions would have been crashing over her, reacting to what she had just learned. She shook her head. "It is too late. It will not be long now until Hollin falls."
He took another breath, calmer this time, slowly pulling himself together even as his eyes showed his resignation, and bowed his head. "I feared you might say so, but I had to ask. If you...if you could look into the Mirror, too, to see what was in store...I will return to Hollin soon, but I have to impart some information first." He was trying to be formal now, she saw, to use it as a mask to hide his despair and guilt behind. She let him.
"There are many lesser rings that we made," he said, almost beginning to seem like he was simply giving an explanation to one of his smiths, "but of true importance are only sixteen of them, the major rings. We keep them hidden, as I said, but they are tinged by his power, and if the kingdom will fall soon, as you say, then it means he will come for them and find them, and they could serve him greatly if he gives them to his followers. The power of his servants would be increased, and he would have direct control over them."
Yes. That was why it was too late to run. "Could you not hide them, then, here or in Lindon?" Galadriel asked. Sauron would still come after those who made the rings, of course. There was no saving them, but perhaps there could be a way to prevent the rings from being found.
"I do not dare. He can sense them, their presence, even when they are not in use I believe, for he helped to make them and he has the ruling ring. I could endanger this realm, or the High King's."
"Destroy them, then?"
He shook his head. "No fire can burn them, or none I know of. Perhaps a fiery chasm, like the one where Nelyafinwë threw the Silmaril, would consume them, but there are no such ones around us, and we cannot afford to travel with the rings. We will simply have to attempt to defend them the best we can."
She sighed. "You will fail," she pointed out.
"What else can we do?"
Galadriel stayed silent. She just wished, desperately and hopelessly, that Sarnel would run...and knew that she would not.
"There is one more thing." Tyelperinquar said and looked around. "Is this place secure?"
"As it is secure anywhere in Middle-Earth, yes. Why do you ask?"
"For...there are three rings that I have made in secrecy," he said quietly, "and Annatár did not know of them and his hand never touched them." He hesitated, and then broke the formality to show a hint of the despair behind to say: "I listened to you, in spite of everything I did, at least a little, I swear, you and Sarnel, I...she told me he wants us for something, our craft, and I could not believe it, but I wanted to prove her wrong, prove both of you wrong, and so I decided that on this incredible project, the greatest thing we ever did, my greatest works should not be known to him. And then when nothing bad would happen I would just show them as a surprise to a good friend, and he would rejoice in my independent success, and that, surely, would be the final proof that he was just that, just my friend and a great craftsman..." He laughed bitterly, and before Galadriel could say something – she did not rightly know what, for she did not quite feel equal to comforting the elf who took her kingdom from her – he pulled the formality back around himself like a cloak. "They are still rings of power, and so as long as he has the ruling ring, they cannot be used, but perhaps if one day he was defeated...these rings are powerful. They could help, in future."
And there was that hint of despair again, a sign of how much he wished, hoped, that some of what he did could still be used for good, could help. Galadriel wanted to tell him about how the Star of Hollin made it possible to make the Mirror, but the words stuck in her throat. She could not comfort him. "Let me see the rings," she said instead, knowing without having to ask that he had them with him.
Tyelperinquar pulled a small package out of his travel bag and unwrapped it, showing her three exquisite jewels, one with a ruby, one with a sapphire and one with diamond. He was right, they were powerful, Galadriel could sense it immediately. They were also pure. "Each is different, is it not?" She asked, her hand hovering over them.
"Yes." In spite of his worry and despair that Galadriel could sense behind his words, there was now pride, too. "There is Narya, the ring of fire. It can inspire strength in others and chases fear away. There is Nenya, the ring of water, and it preserves and protects. And there is Vilya, the ring of air, and it cheers the soul and eases heavy burdens. All of them, to tell the truth, have some protective abilities, but Nenya has the strongest ones and it can also slow the passage of time. I wish to hide them somewhere safe outside Hollin, in different places, with those wise enough to know that they truly must not use it as long as Annatár wields the ruling ring. I want you to have one of them, cousin...and I want to have your advice on who should have the other two."
"Artanáro and Lord Ciryatan," she replied, without the smallest hesitation. Elrond, Lord Laurefindil and Ambë would have been her other candidates, but those two great rulers took clear precedence. "As for me..." She felt she did not deserve to have one, but looking at it reasonably, it was a good idea to split them between the realms, and she was certainly not sending one to Oropher. "You want me to choose the ring I want?"
Tyelperinquar assented.
Galadriel looked at the three beautiful jewels before her. She wanted to take Narya, she could almost feel it calling to her, and yet...she knew she could not, the same way she knew, all those millennia ago in Aman, that she had to spend time in Lady Estë's company, even though she would have sometimes preferred the Queen of All. And seen in this light, the answer was clear.
"I will take Nenya," she said.
"Nenya? The ring of water?" Tyelperinquar was astonished.
She gave him a hard look. "I take Nenya because what it offers is what I most lack. I can inspire and I can ease spirits, but protection – of the more passive kind - and preservation...that was always what I had to make myself do. It used to be that I had Lady Estë or Lady Melian to help with that and remind me of that. Now I have to remember on my own that this is what I need. I know my weakness, and I combat it every day."
Tyelperinquar lowered his eyes, hearing her implied criticism. "As you say, cousin."
She picked it up from his palm and hid it in her bodice. "Did you plan to bring the rings to Artanáro and Lord Ciryatan yourself?" She asked then.
"No – I had been planning to send one of my people, why?"
"Leave them there with me and let one of mine go. It will be less suspicious."
He hesitated, but then nodded and handed her the two remaining rings.
There was silence between them, filled with all the words neither of them could say. This was, likely, the last time they saw each other. They had worked closely alongside each other for centuries. They had even been friends, they were family. She as his closest kin this side of the Sea. Yet still, at this time, she found she did not have anything to say to him.
"With your leave," he said at length, "I will go speak with my daughter now, for I wish to tell her in person...and say my farewells."
Galadriel nodded, firmly forbidding herself to think about Sarnel. Still, she had to ask. "Your son?"
"He will not leave," Tyelperinquar said and his voice shook, back to vulnerable once again. "He says he will not abandon me and Sarnel. I...I do not know what..."
"He is an adult," Galadriel replied, feeling as if the entire weight of the world rested on her. "Tell your daughter as much as you can about these rings of power," she added as he turned to leave again. "Once Sauron gets them...we might need to know."
He nodded.
"And Tyelperinquar?" She called, something inside of her finally breaking when she saw his stiff shoulders disappearing among the trees.
He stopped.
"I forgive you," she said, and heard the single, loud sob that escaped his throat at that pronouncement.
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Galadriel went to Amdír with a request. "I need someone truly trustworthy from among the Silvan elves. Well, I might need more people as guard, but one of them has to be someone you'd trust with your son's life."
"What are you planning?"
She hesitated. "There are certain...powerful artefacts Celebrimbor brought to me. He wants to keep them out of Gorthaur's hands, wants to hide them. I need to transport them to Lindon, and I need someone whom Sauron will never suspect to be transporting anything important to go."
"How do you know these artefacts aren't trapped?"
Galadriel blinked at him. "What are you saying?"
"Celebrimbor brought them right from a kingdom controlled by Sauron. What's there to make me believe they aren't set-ups by him?"
"Celebrimbor told me Gorthaur never touched them."
"I'm sure he believes that."
She frowned. "I saw them. There was nothing dark about them."
"You know best yourself that Gorthaur is a master of lies."
Galadriel exhaled. "Even if you were right...surely that'd be even more of a reason to give me that recommendation? My intention is to get these artefacts out of the realm, after all."
He nodded curtly. "Just warn Rodnor," he said.
"Don't worry, I intend to fully inform him of where I got them."
He nodded. "Very well," he said, and thought for a moment before saying: "Take Ealc. She's one of my intermediaries for dealing with the Silvan. I'll send her to your house for you to meet her."
The elf appeared in an hour. She stood in front of the door, tall and straight. A Silvan elf indeed, unmistakeable by her bright clothing of simple, sharp lines. There did not seem to be much soft about the elf herself either. She stood there and looked at Galadriel with unflinching eyes.
"Come on in," the Nolde called.
Ealc entered and remained standing by the door, still equally unflinching. "Did the king tell you what I wanted?" Galadriel asked.
"I'm to take some powerful objects to Lindon in secrecy." Her Sindarin was good, but accented, and made it clear it was not her first language.
"Have you been there before?"
"In Lindon? Yes, in the Havens."
Galadriel was surprised. The Silvan of Lindórinand rarely travelled that far, she knew. "Truly? For what purpose?"
"We went there to trade."
Galadriel nodded. "I'll also need you to give a message to king Gil-Galad."
"What message?"
"Avorneth will give you details. She should be here any moment now." Galadriel reached out with her mind. "Ah," she said, "she's approaching."
"Do you usually touch other people's minds?" Ealc asked her rather sharply.
Galadriel was taken aback by the question. "Of those who are close to me, yes," she replied. "As they do mine. It's, after all, the most intimate form of communication."
"It's intrusive," Ealc replied.
It was in a way, but then, close relationships could not work without some intrusion. The basis of friendship was opening oneself to another. "Surely," she said aloud, "if the other person opens their mind to it…?"
Ealc seemed to look at her with contempt now. "As if you can ever refuse. Child to a parent, friend to a friend. What would they think? Better not make people face this choice at all."
Galadriel had to admit she had never thought about it that way. She fully believed that it was a unique form of intimacy to be cherished, of course, but she also remembered the things she used to desperately hide from Lady Melian, and that she now hid from Celeborn. Ealc, she had to concede, had a point as well.
Her musings were interrupted by Avorneth arriving, and Ealc looked at her for a very long time, so long that Avorneth averted her eyes. "You'll be travelling with me?" She asked.
"No," Avorneth replied, clearly surprised.
"Pity," Ealc merely said.
"Avorneth is too known to Gorthaur," Galadriel explained. "The whole point of having you go is that he won't consider you..."
"Important enough," Ealc finished bluntly. "I understand. So, what message should I give?"
Galadriel turned to Avorneth. "Please, explain anything you believe Rodnor and Lord Círdan should know about the rings, and that can be said aloud. Ealc will take the message."
"Shall we walk as you explain?" Ealc asked, and rather hesitatingly, Avorneth nodded.
"Anything else from you?" The Silvan elf turned to Galadriel.
"No," the Nolde replied, a little taken aback by all of these proceedings. "I think that'll be all. Just come collect the rings before you go. I trust you know how to move across the land in secrecy."
Ealc merely nodded, and they disappeared.
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Mírdan came not many months later.
"What are you doing here?" Galadriel asked him, shocked, even as Avorneth, who had sensed her brother's approach, flew into his arms.
"My parents begged me," he said in a weak voice over his sister's shoulder. "I did not want to abandon them, but they begged me, and...Mother cried." His voice sounded hollow, distant. "I have never seen her cry before. I did not think she could. But she cried, and father cried as well, and then she screamed – not at me, at...I do not even know. At the Doom, Father said. And when I saw it, I could not..."
"You did the right thing," Galadriel assured him. The less people perished in Hollin, the better.
"But I abandoned them," he said. "My grandfather spoke to Mother recently, and I know he begged her to run away, but she did not. Yet I did, at my parents' insistence. Am I weaker?"
"No. Perhaps less stubborn than your mother, but then, you were not Hollin's chief commander." She paused. "Also, I suspect your grandfather does not know how imminent the danger is. He was in Hollin?"
"No. But Mother met with him, and I heard her telling Father about it."
"I suspect she told him some, but...not all. She would not wish to burden him, and she did not wish to...perhaps if she saw the amount of despair in him you saw in your mother, she would not have been able to stay faithful to her resolve either. And she wanted to avoid that." Of course, Galadriel thought, that only meant it would hit Artanáro all the harder when the day of grief came. Her heart broke for him.
Her heart broke for Mírdan, too, standing there in his sister's arms, looking lost. Celebrían had stayed in the background, but now she stepped forward and lightly touched him on the shoulder. "Let us go to my house," she said. "You need rest."
The young elf meekly nodded and the two ladies led him away.
Celeborn found Galadriel standing there, looking into the distance. "What happened, my love?" he asked. "I saw Mírdan in Celebrían's mind."
"He came," she replied. She did not say anything else, but he understood and embraced her and they stood like this for a while. "It'll be soon, now," she said then, and he nodded.
"Let's go home," she said abruptly and turned. She did not as much want to go home as she wanted to hold her crown of Hollin in her hands again.
When she did, sitting on the edge of her bed, staring at it, Celeborn sat down next to her.
"It seems so long ago, like an impossible dream," she said. "Was it truly mine for a time?"
"Yes," her husband replied, "and it was glorious."
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Galadriel, after much thought, wrote a letter to Artanáro. She told him all about Hollin, about how dire exactly the situation was, and that Sarnel would die with the realm. Her niece would not thank her for it, she knew, but she could not imagine not doing it. She could not imagine Artanáro ever forgiving her if she did not tell him.
Her astonishment was great, however, when she received her response and discovered that he knew everything.
I want to send the whole of Lindon's army there, he wrote, and yet Sarnel begs me not to. She says the realm is doomed, and that it would only be a waste of innocent life. She says that those who had wanted to save themselves already did so, that they had their chance. That those who stayed were prepared to die with the realm, but that innocent soldiers should not be obliged to.
I do not know if I can do this, he wrote. She made me promise, but I do not know if I can keep my word, even though I am king and the lives of my people should be above anything to me. But Aunt, she is my daughter. How can I not...how can I not save her? That is what I told you after Narogrotto. I cannot do this.
And yet Sarnel talked to me about that, too. She told me this was not the same. I was not abandoning anyone, she said, I was simply not sending my people to death. And I do not know, I do not know what to do. I am lost. Please, help me. I am lost without you.
There was not one word of recrimination in that letter, but then, it was not necessary. Galadriel felt all the guilt in the world even without it. This was Artanáro's daughter – Artanáro's – and her blood would be on her hands.
She thought about what to reply for a long time. She thought of the lives lost that would be her responsibility if she gave one kind of advice, and the pain she would cause if she gave the other, and then she remembered Narogrotto, too, like Artanáro did.
She remembered her solution to the dilemma during the Battle of Unnumbered Tears, and how it came to the worst possible outcome. And yet, it would not leave her mind.
Remember what we advised your father those centuries ago, she wrote. If your conscience will not allow you not to send anyone, and yet it prevents you from ordering your people to death as well, then choose this compromise. Ask for volunteers. Make it clear to them that they will likely die. There are those who do not mind dying so much, who have loved ones beyond the sea and do not resent the thought of meeting them. There are also those who would gladly die for your daughter, though you should make it clear to them that they will not save her. Not when she will command the troops. Sauron will never let her escape.
But still, she is an adult and has the right to her choice to die with her people and land, and so do your people have the right to the choice to die with her. So ask for volunteers, and make sure it is clear what you are asking for. Then, perhaps, you will be able to rest a little more easily.
She almost choked as she wrote the last words. His daughter would be dead soon. How could she think he would ever rest easy again?
And she, herself, how would she rest? All those from Lindon who would die in the coming war, their blood would be on her hands, too. And blood from everyone from Hollin. Sarnel's blood.
It always came back to this, again and again, inescapable. Sarnel would be dead, and it would be her fault.
A memory surfaced, of a little girl in Lindon's garden, being bored by the roses Galadriel tried to show her, wishing to do something more interesting. Of a young woman training with Lord Laurefindil, laughing as she barely parried his attack. Of her new commander, joyful because she just found for the first time that she truly had the respect of her troops.
All this gone, because of her.
She thought of Lord Laurefindil. He, too, would never forgive her Sarnel's death. Perhaps he would finally see why Erestor detested her. Where she went, death went with her. The Doom was unforgiving. It was time she realized that.
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Galadriel kept her despair at bay by occupying herself with practical concerns. Felil was doing well at ruling the Noldorin city with Aseanettë's help, but Galadriel still frequently visited to make sure everything was as good as it could be. She helped Amdír. She spent time with her daughter and Celeborn, and with Avorneth and Mírdan, too. Mírdan worried her. He always seemed to half dwell in Hollin in his mind, distracted and inattentive to his own sister, let alone to anyone else.
She also frequently went to Khazad-dûm, to warn the dwarves of what she saw in her Mirror and to hear the news from the other side of the mountains, such news that the eagles did not give her. There, at least, everything still seemed to be the same as always, though the craftsmen missed their elven colleagues, King Nithi told her. "They were good trading partners, and good inspiration for our work," he said. "But still, I trust you and Celebrimbor both have good reason for your advice, and we'll keep the door closed to all but you and the few others we truly trust."
And so Galadriel gave her advice, and worked, and waited.
It happened in the middle of a very unpleasant argument with an envoy from Oropher. That was something that could always be relied on: when an envoy from Greenwood came, they would pick an argument with her. Amdír also told her that Oropher had tried many times since that first one to convince him to cast her out. In a word, their relationship was not improving.
She had felt edgy since the morning, filled with dark foreboding, so the poor envoy really did not pick a very good time. She was just about to deliver a very scathing reply when suddenly, the vision crashed into her: blood, blood everywhere...blood and screams and fighting...and then she saw the truly terrible sights, Sarnel fighting swarmed by orcs, only tatters of her army remaining around her, and her fighters being cut down one by one, until only she remained, deadly with her sword and cutting down dozens of orcs – and yet it was not enough, it would never be enough, for more kept coming and her arms got tired and Galadriel saw them sag, and then she saw the first blow of her enemies land, and after that, they kept coming until she fell to her knees and then her body was covered by orcs and run over, and oh, Galadriel could not breathe, it was too much, by far too much - and then there was Tyelperinquar, standing on the steps of the palace, her royal palace, and fighting, and the orcs coming, wave after wave, and then the vision ended and she knew Tyelperinquar was dead, too. She heard Avorneth's shriek echo through Lindórinand and knew that she saw, too.
If she had not been sitting, she would have fallen now, and she heard clearly the echo of Artanáro's despair: 'My child...my baby..."
His pain, Sarnel's pain, Mírdan's pain, Avorneth's and her own, and Tyelperinquar's, too, it all mixed together into a swirl of grief and guilt. Would any of this have happened, she wondered, had I not insisted on having my own realm? Or would they all still be alive?
And then a new, fresh wave of hatred for Sauron rose in her. I will see you destroyed, do you hear me? She cried in her mind. I will see your end.
Laughter was the only response.
When she came back to her senses, she was still in the council room and Oropher's envoy was looking at her like all his worst imaginings were confirmed.
She ignored him and turned to Amdír. "Hollin has fallen," she said. "Celebrimbor and Sarnel are dead."
Heaviness fell across the council room, and they honoured the memory by a respectful silence. Then Amdír said: "We knew it would happen soon. We need to prepare to accept any other possible refugees. Rýnor," he turned to his commander, "send as many units as you can spare across the mountains, to find them and bring them here. Will some be coming through Hadhodrond?" He asked Galadriel.
"Not many," she replied. "Those who were truly friendly with the dwarves would have been those who defended the realm most valiantly, and they would have fallen. Look in the mountains."
Rýnor nodded in agreement and left, and the king addressed his son: "Amroth, make sure all is prepared to receive them – Lady Galadriel will help you."
"Of course, my king," Galadriel assented and followed the prince out of the throne room.
"Is there anything specific I need to know?" Amroth asked her once they were outside. "Otherwise, I will leave you to grieve in private, my lady."
"Thank you. No, I do not believe there is anything – you were here when out group of refugees arrived. This is not going to be any different, only," she choked a little, "there is going to be much less of them."
Amroth inclined his head and left her alone, and she went in search of her daughter.
Celebrían was to be found comforting Avorneth, and Galadriel joined them without a word, simply embracing both and desperately wishing she could undo all evil that ever came from her decisions.
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AN: I have a drabble about Celebrimbor's and Sarnel's death (because I'm such a cheerful gal) on tumblr. Check out barbarakaterina. Tumblr tagged/the nolde verse