AN: After this, the insane frequency of updates should go down a bit, since I'm out of chapters that only needed two more rounds of edits. Most of what I have left is completely unedited, so it will take a bit longer to get it into shape. Still, I should be done posting the story by the end of the year at the latest. Hopefully sooner, but I don't want to give more false promises.
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Chapter 88: Council
Year 2460 of the Third Age, Lothlórien
As Galadriel's mind wandered over the borders of her realm, idly searching for the minds of her friends, she caught something towards the east. Something she did not like at all.
She concentrated, and smiled grimly. „Well," she said aloud, „that did not take long."
In truth, she was surprised. She had not expected Sauron to appear in Amon Lanc again. She had expected him to show in Mordor next. She supposed this was a good sign – he was not ready to take over his dominion yet. She had dreaded his reunion with the Witch-king. She was not ready to read it as proof that it was not actually Sauron, however.
Her mind went out with a sharp purpose, now, and it connected with both Elrond's and Olórin's at the same time.
He is back, she said simply.
What do we do? Elrond asked, his attention all on her immediately.
Mithrandir, she said, forcing herself to think the name she hated, because she knew there was nothing grey about the real Olórin at all, should go and warn Thranduil, I think. He is the only one who can. But...the Necromancer does not seem to be weakened at all by his absence, though neither is he strengthened, thank the One. We will have to act quickly.
If we want to destroy him, not just drive him away, I cannot go alone again, Olórin pointed out. We need more people, to have a chance of trapping him, at least. I need the two of you.
Thranduil will not allow it, Elrond pointed out.
Galadriel pushed back her desire to say how much exactly she cared for Thranduil's opinion, and instead, reiterated a previously made point: He abandoned the area. It is no longer his kingdom.
He certainly acts like it is, Olórin replied. Remember how he reacted when he found out I went there those centuries ago.
We can try to negotiate with him again, Galadriel said slowly, but I fear it will be to no effect. Our position has worsened significantly. While Amroth was king, Thranduil preserved at least vaguely amiable relationship towards this realm. Now he is all but openly hostile.
He barely speaks to me or tolerates me, Olórin agreed. Getting him to accept even Elrond would be a miracle. For you, my friend, I have no hope. And while I do not wish to disrespect Elrond in any way, I fear we cannot do this without you.
I am certainly not offended, Elrond noted. Findaráto himself lost a duel with Sauron. I could never hope to measure up to that. Then, feeling Galadriel's pain at this casual reference, he added: Forgive me.
No need. It is true, after all. My brother took a good measure of Sauron's strength, and that is why I would hesitate to enter his tower on my own, too. Yes, we need to be all together, at least, and preferably with Lord Laurefindil as well.
That makes our chances of convincing Thranduil even lower, Olórin pointed out.
Galadriel considered the problem. We need a front, she decided, theough it left a bad taste in her mouth. Something to make it less obvious that it is about the three of us, to make Thranduil more likely to accept it.
So more people, then, to make us stand out less, Elrond immediately jumped on the plan. Who?
Well, Lord Ciryatan, obviously, Galadriel said immediately, and after a moment, added: and some of his Sindar, too – no one related to Artanáro. If there is someone who can still have any kind of rational influence on Thranduil, it is him. Some of our own Sindar, too, those few who are left from Doriath still.
How do you intend to call this group together? Olórin asked. You can hardly call to arms for an attack at Amon Lanc, Thranduil would go spare.
It needs to seem more general, Elrond mused. A group interested in the good of Middle-earth...like you have councils in individual kingdoms, taking care of the good of the realm. This would be one like that, taking care of the good of Middle-Earth. Something like we had with the representatives of the Numenorean colonies in the past age.
Nephew, you are brilliant, Galadriel stated.
Thank you, though I do not doubt you could have come up with an idea just as good soon, he replied with a smile.
If it is going to be like this, you should have some more Noldor involved as well, least Thranduil gets suspicious, Olórin commented.
Very true, Galadriel admitted. Avorneth should be there. She knows much about how the rings work, that could be useful if we ever discuss anything apart from the immediate matter of intervening against the Necromancer. Lord Laurefindil should certainly be part of it, like I said, and maybe Erestor? Or would that be too many Noldor for Thranduil? What do you think, Elrond?
I would say definitely him, if the council is to serve any actual point at all, but we also have to think of equal representation to avoid conflict. Thranduil would hardly take the council seriously if there was one of him and scores of our people. He considered. Maybe we can have three people from each realm?
Galadriel counted in her head.Yes, why not. I can take Avorneth as one of my own, in spite of her mostly staying in Rivendell now, and Celeborn, too, and that will be my three. We have four concerned realms in total, so that would make it twelve, plus Mithrandir… Galadriel paused. Unfortunately, I am afraid there is no way we can leave Curunír out. It would look suspicious, and if he found out – which he would – he would make sure to sabotage us with Thranduil. He would even bestir himself to travel so far North for that.
I still believe you take too critical a view of him, Olórin said mildly.
Because I have not told you everything, Galadriel returned. She had considered the matter carefully, and decided that the rik of the white wizard finding out all she knew and believed about him was too high.
You are certainly right that we need to have him on the council, if it is to have any semblance of legitimacy, Elrond returned to the matter at hand.
Galadriel thought about it. In that case, we should include Radagast as well. At least that gives the wizard the equal number of three. The blue wizards are too far away to involve. Very well then, fifteen. That does not seem impossible to manage.
The council should not be called by you, Elrond added.
No, you are right. Best if Lord Ciryatan does it.
I will send a messenger immediately, Elrond agreed.
I hope you are aware, Olórin said after a moment, chuckling lightly, that if Thranduil could hear you now, all of his worst fears would be confirmed.
A good thing that he cannot, then, Galadriel replied simply.
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It all came together soon enough, and in three years, they met. The most difficult part, in truth, had been to agree on a place. The Grey Havens were simply too far, and Thranduil was refusing to come to Rivendell. So in the end, absurd as it was, they met in the ruins of the old capital of Rhudaur. Galadriel supposed it would at least serve as a pointed reminder of the dangers of Sauron and his servants.
She hated leaving Lothlórien at such a time, especially as there was no one trustworthy enough and close to her enough to leave the ring with. She could only desperately hope that the mellyrn would survive the two weeks that were the minimal time of absence this would require, even if she rode at breakneck speed both there and back and never rested, and that Sauron, too, would not use this opportunity to mount an attack. He was too weak for that by all accounts, but she worried. He was not the only danger, either – with the re-emergence of the Necromancer, the orcs started to appear in the mountains again, drawn to his presence. Celebrían and Arwen would not come to Lothlórien any time soon, she feared, and her leaving it was a bad idea all around.
There was no helping it, however. She needed to be at this meeting in person, and Thranduil would never come to Lothlórien.
She had mixed feelings when she arrived and saw that Arminas came with Lord Ciryatan. She had not seen him for a very long time, and was glad to, but he was undoubtedly and obviously a Noldo, and reminded Thranduil of Lord Ciryatan's Noldorin connection, too. It did not serve Galadriel's plans at all. At least the other one who came with him was a Sinda. Galadriel knew him by sight from her time in Lindon, but did not remember his name.
Elrond brought those he had said he would, and Thranduil, she saw, came with two Silvan advisors. She had considered bringing Ealc, but there was not enough space on the council, and besides, the elf would likely lose her temper with Thranduil and say something sharp to him. Like most Silvan of Lothlórien, ever since the last war and the terrible losses they suffered, she did not have much sympathy for the Greenwood ruling family.
They all gathered in the one remaining room of the old royal palace, sitting on assorted pieces of broken furniture or stone. I hope, Galadriel mused, that this is not symbolic for how successful our plans for the future of this world will be.
"The first order of business," Curunír said when they were all seated, "should, I believe, be the question of who will be the head of the council."
Galadriel was a little blindsided for a moment. Oh, he is good, she thought to herself. "I propose Mithrandir," she said as soon as she adjusted to this new idea, thinking that had Ealc actually been here, she would have no doubt scoffed at this need to always had a designated leader of everything.
Of course Thranduil protested her suggestion.
You have to take it, Galadrel insisted in her friend's mind, sensing his discomfort, otherwise it will fall to Curunír.
I cannot take it, Olórin opposed, Thranduil would immediately lose confidence in the council, and do not forget it is for his benefit that we are doing this. It is not as if we suppose this council will have any real power beyond the one task, so it does not matter.
Curunír will find a way for it to have real power if he is the head, I am sure of it, Galadriel urged.
Nevertheless, we cannot jeopardize the primary purpose, Olórin insisted, and spoke. "I thank you for the honour, my lady," he said, "but I would not wish to be tied down to one place, as one in such position would surely have to be. And, too, Curunír is the most powerful of our order, so if the honour should go to one of us, it should be him.
Elrond, who had heard Galadriel's conversation with Olórin, gave a mental sigh and said: "I agree. I support Curunír as well."
It was short work after that. I could have done without that humiliation, Galadriel thought to herself ruefully. She considered whether she should not have shared the full extent of her worries about Curunír with Olórin, but she still believed the risk of the white wizard himself knowing was greater. Besides, Elrond had known, and he still supported him, still judging it the lesser evil. Olórin might have done the same. Once more, Galadriel was forced to consider whether her experience from Hollin did not make her overcautious.
However, the profound effect of the decision showed as soon as they started to discuss the evil in Mirkwood.
Galadriel began to summarize the situation when she was interrupted.
"Forgive me," Curunír said in that voice of his, the one that could mould metal as easily as people, "but it seems to me that your conclusion that it's Gorthaur is based only on guesswork and that you have no solid proof. We need more than that if we're to do something about it. Coming in unprepared, or prepared for the wrong enemy, could have dreadful consequences. We who are gathered here are the wisest in Middle-Earth. If we were injured or killed in the fight, and yet Gorthaur was left in the world, it'd surely mean its ruin. No, we need to analyze carefully, take every little thing into account..."
He spoke on and on, but the gist remained the same, and after a time, Galadriel stopped listening to his words. They were not important unless she wanted to study rhetoric, of which he would be an unparalleled teacher. But they did not say anything of substance, so she concentrated on his tone instead, trying to understand how he achieved the effect he achieved.
She had to give that up as well, after several attempts. She could not comprehend it, and when she focused too much, she began to feel the sway, too. So instead she shifted her focus once again, to watching the others at the council and their reactions.
Some were clearly completely swayed. Radagast seemed to be almost in trance, and Thranduil and one of his advisors were not far from it. The other one had a rather shrewd look on his face that did nothing to inspire Galadriel's confidence.
Olórin's and Elrond's faces were worried, and so was Lord Laurefindil's. Erestor looked contemplative. Lord Ciryatan was frowning, as if trying to puzzle out a complicated problem. Avorneth was scowling even more deeply, and so was Celeborn. Arminas' face she could not read, but the Sinda Lord Ciryatan had brought with him looked swayed as well.
All in all, Galadriel was deeply concerned with how the vote would go, and did her best to disrupt Curunír's convincing speech.
The way he pushed any of her interruptions aside and simply continued on was truly masterful.
"We'll get to that later, my lady," and "that isn't the primary concern now" and "you tend to focus on the insignificant," all said so smoothly and soothingly that no one dared to protest, the tone of his voice assuring all that everything was exactly as it should be.
In the end, the majority of the council agreed with Curunír – even Erestor, which made Galadriel smile a little in spite of the seriousness of the situation. She believed Elrond would have some sharp words with him once they returned to Rivendell.
What hurt much more was that Curunír had managed to convince Arminas. Galadriel understood he was far from the danger, but still. He was Lord Ciryatan's husband, so if he had no respect for her own wisdom, she would have thought that he would be guided by his spouse's, if nothing else. Lord Ciryatan gave his ring to Olórin, not to Curunír. Though he did not quite share her own suspicions and misgivings, he knew enough not to support him in this. Arminas, clearly, did not.
But perhaps she should not be so harsh on them. Curunír's voice truly had power, and the fact that he had no compunction about using it was the most important indication that all was not quite well with him, that his intentions were not always quite above board.
Galadriel knew, after all. She had fought against the temptation to imbue her voice with her will many times in her life, and from her narrowly won resistance, she knew what the cost would have been had she succumbed to it. His method might be slightly different, but the core intention of it, she believed, remained the same. No, she did not trust Curunír at all, and less and less as the time went.
"I'll of course submit to the will of this council," she said aloud, "but I still insist that we have to do something. You excluded the possibility of a direct intervention for now. Fine. But what if it truly is Gorthaur who hides there? We need a way to find out, at least, and we need to be on our guard if it's him, or if whoever it is starts to spread his influence."
"I believe," Thranduil said haughtily, "that if he does spread it, I'd be the first to notice."
"Of course," Celeborn replied, "but it might only be at a time when it endangered your kingdom. Wouldn't a more advance warning be to your advantage?"
"I'm sure your wife can check from your seat," came the sneering reply. "You're quite near, after all."
"And yet we've been unable to ascertain the exact nature of the evil for centuries," Celeborn pointed out.
Thranduil's expression said quite clearly what he thought of that.
"I agree that we need a better, more careful guard," Elrond chimed in. "Someone to be closer."
"If there's service required," Radagast said unexpectedly, "then I'll do it, if it's within my powers."
"That would be excellent, my friend!" Olórin replied quickly, before anyone could say anything else. Galadriel wondered whether Radagast had spoken up at Olórin's mental suggestion. After all, Thranduil could have no real objection against him. "As long as King Thranduil doesn't protest, we could settle you in the abandoned part of the forest, somewhere close to where Amon Lanc used to be..."
Thranduil did try put forward some token protests, but in the end, he did agree. Perhaps he realized that since this arrangement was of the most benefit to him, no one believed in his protestations anyway.
The council dispersed soon after that. Galadriel wished to hurry back to Lothlórien, eager to return her protection to it, but there was one more thing she needed to arrange still. She called to Avorneth, and went for a little walk with her in the ruined city.
"I do not trust Curunír in the slightest," she said. "We will need every scrap of information about the ruling ring we can get, and the fact that he is the one who professes to be working on it only increases my fears. I know I have given you this task some time ago already, but it will soon become a very pressing matter, so I simply wanted to ask you once again to devote as much time as you can to it. We especially need anything you can tell us about possible signs that the ring was found again – by anyone, I mean. I am relatively certain we would know if Sauron found it."
"I will do what I can, Aunt."
"Good. And give Celebrían and the children my love, will you?"
"Of course," she replied, smiling.
"How are they bearing their renewed restrictions on travel?" Galadriel asked. She did not believe it would cause as much harm this time. Celebrían was happier in Rivendell, by her husband's side, than she was in Lothlórien, in spite of her love for the forest and her father.
"It has only been a few years," Avorneth pointed out. "It is not so long since they have seen you. Arwen bears it serenely."
"And Celebrían?" Galadriel asked in surprise.
Avorneth sighed. "Less so," she said. "She is irritated, of course, but she also seems to be...almost made nervous by it."
"Do you know what is wrong?"
"Yes," Avorneth admitted after a moment, "but I swore a very solemn oath not to tell you."
It should probably not surprise Galadriel, but it still hurt a little, even after all those centuries. "Can you at least tell me whether there is a reason to worry."
"...yes. Yes, there is. Celebrían is...not doing what is best for her now. I am doing what I can to convince her otherwise, but it will take time."
Galadriel frowned. "Does Elrond know?"
"I am not certain. I believe – some of it, but not all. He worries as well."
None of this was reassuring at all.
Tell her she is not weak, Galadriel told Elrond when they discussed the situation some years after the council, Celebrían's nerves and irritation gradually worsening and Elrond growing more worried.
I have, he replied. She finds it difficult to believe in light of the fact that you can travel safely and no one questions it.
Galadriel exhaled. It was the same thing, over and over again. I do so rarely enough, she pointed out tiredly, and I have Nenya.
You know it is not the reason, and your daughter will know as well.
Then what would you have me say? She asked, frustrated.
I do not know. I truly wish for this war to be over. There was a pause. I believe, he elaborated then, that there is a matter she wishes dearly to discuss with her father.
Do you know what it is?
No. It appears to be something private, and something that troubles her greatly, but she asked me not to look for the answer in her mind, and I have respected her wish.
Well then, I can convince Celeborn to go to her.
Elrond hesitated. Surely he should not be leaving his realm at this time…
Galadriel scoffed. I assure you I am quite capable of ruling it for a month or so. Of course Celeborn will go to help his beloved daughter. Let me arrange everything.
Celeborn seemed deeply worried when Galadriel told him, and set out for a journey within a few days.
He was gone gone long, and when he returned, his worry had not entirely abated.
"What did our daughter need?" Galadriel asked him.
"She did not tell," he replied, obviously deeply disturbed by that, "but she was truly deeply troubled and I'm not entirely certain I've managed to help at all. Elrond's right, this war needs to end soon. What means of convincing Curunír do we have?"
"It is not him he should be concentrating on – I don't believe for a moment he'll let himself be convinced – but we need to gather conclusive evidence for the others. Radagast might be useful in this, but still, it'll fall to Mithrandir for a large part."
Celeborn nodded. "The sooner it's done, the better," he said, and Galadriel could not possibly agree more.
She desperately wished she could go to her daughter and console her in some way, or that she could at least send Celeborn to live there for as long as Celebrían needed him.
At least Avorneth is there, she tried to console herself. At least that much I gave give her.
It seemed like pitifully little, though.
A few more years later, when Celebrían did not improve, Galadriel told Elrond to put together a large entourage – as large as he could afford – and send it with Celebrían to Lothlórien. Galadriel would send her own people to meet them, to ensure safety.
When Celebrían came, it was difficult to credit all the reports Galadriel had been getting. She seemed almost as cheerful as before the Necromancer reappeared. In fact, Galadriel had not seen her laugh so freely for a long time. Celeborn, however, insisted this was very different from how he had seen her in Rivendell.
Given this, Galadriel suggested if, perhaps, her daughter would not like to stay in Lothlórien for the time being. After all, it was perfectly safe in Caras Galadhon and its vicinity.
Celebrían had refused rather sharply, and in fact, departed within the month.
Galadriel grew even more troubled, especially as journeys like this were really not feasibly very often. Putting together the entourage put too much of a train on Lothlórien and Rivendell both. So Galadriel, apart from puzzling over the mystery of convincing the Council to attack the Necromancer, wrecked her mind for a way to help her daughter with a problem she did not even know about.
Elladan and Elrohir came to Lothlórien less than they used to now, too, with the danger returned. They spent much of their time among the Rangers of the North, training them and helping them in their efforts to make the lands of what used to be Arnor as free of Sauron's agents as possible.
"Are there orcs to be found, then?" Galadriel asked on the rare occasion that they did come.
"So far, only in the mountains and near to them," Elladan replied, "but it will come, I have no doubt of it."
"Neither do I," Galadriel assured him. "Be careful not to stretch yourselves too thin – some things you cannot prevent." It felt ironic giving that advice, but she knew well enough its truth, even though she was not always so skilled at following it.
"It is rather the opposite we are in danger of," Elrohir replied. "With how much time we spend in Rivendell with Mother and Father, and then in our own pursuits, I fear we do not give the Rangers as much help as we should."
"Yet how long has it been since you went to Gondor for your pleasure?"
"That much is true," Elrohir conceded. "We do not leave for long any more, out of fear that an unexpected attack of the enemy could catch us unaware. But we do still indulge our pleasures enough. We are here, are we not?"
"I should hope that visiting me and your grandfather is not counted as an idle pleasure in your mind."
"No," Elrohir assured her, "and yet...you do not need our help, do you?"
"I may need your company," she replied. "Being robbed of that of your mother and your sister, and Avorneth, too, I would loath to part with it." She saw Elrohir's expression, and quickly added: "Of course I understand real duty takes precedence."
"No, you are right. We should come here more often. As our idle fun no longer takes us this way, we neglect you."
Galadriel sighed. Making them feel guilty was the last thing she had wanted. "I was only joking, truly," she said. "You have your own lives, and you have every right to live them as you see fit."
"With you and Father so devoted to your duties, and Mother not being free to go where she wishes, it seems particularly selfish to."
Galadriel thought of Arwen. It seemed at least two of Elrond's children inherited this tendency to self-deprecation. She hesitated a little, since it felt rather underhanded, but then asked the thing she had been meaning to ask ever since they arrived: "How is your mother?"
Elladan sighed. "Something worries her," he said. "We do not know what. Besides, that is, being shut in Rivendell."
"We take her on rides with us whenever we can," Elrohir added. "To the lands around Rivendell we are sure are free of orcs."
"Rides?" Galadriel asked in some surprise. Celebrían had never been particularly fond of riding.
"Walks, too," Elrohir amended, "but she seems to be fonder of rides lately."
Perhaps, Galadriel mused, she felt closer to real freedom at the faster speed. "And as to what else worries her, you have no notion?"
"I know she sleeps badly," Elladan admitted. "We often find her awake and walking in the gardens when we return from a journey in the night."
"And your father does not know what is happening?"
"He does, I believe, or at least has some idea. He simply does not know what to do."
Galadriel dearly wished she did.
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