Chapter 95: Betrayal
Year 3018 of the Third Age, Lothlórien
It seemed to be a day like any other in spring when the mellyrn were just beginning to bloom when Olórin's thought materialized in Galadriel's mind, unexpected and startling: I have found the ruling ring.
She was too shocked to reply in any way for a long while, her mind stuttering to a stop. The ruling ring...she had not, in any of her plans for this war, counted on it being count. She had known it was a possibility, but it was such a slight one, when they had not found it when they looked directly after Isildur fell, she had effectively discounted it.
For it to be found...it changed everything. Absolutely everything.
Where? She asked at lenght, her thought a whisper.
In The Shire, in keeping of the little folk that once dwelt north of Lothlórien, Olórin replied. They knew not what is it they have.
Galadriel rather imagined not. She was astonished, though this explained Olórin's premonitions. Have they brought it with them from the river, then?
Almost.
Galadriel frowned at the evasive answer. What do you mean by that?
I...hesitate to tell you, my friend, for I know that once I do, I will face your wrath, and justly so. Please allow me to remain in your esteem a little while longer.
She scoffed. You know all of my failures. Surely you cannot fear that I will cast you aside when I learn about one of yours?
Your failures have been mine as well for the last two millennia – most of them, at least – and none of them has been as colossal as this one.
She sighed, but this was no time to argue. There were more important matters to discuss, and to consider in peace. Keep your secrets, then, if you wish. I will ask more when next we meet. Now tell me, what do you plan to do about the ring?
Send it to Rivendell with its owner for now, Olórin replied promtly. There, we will have to decide how to carry it to its destruction.
Galadriel shuddered. She knew, of course, that it was the only thing to be done with it, yet knowing also what it meant... That is no easy task, she said simply.
No, but I know of some who have at least a chance of success. But this cannot be my decision alone, and as I say, we will consult it in Rivendell.
Well then. Galadriel paused. He seemed unwilling to say any more. Have you notified Elrond yet? I see his mind is not joint to ours in this.
No, but I will let him know presently.
She scowled, realizing the reason for this. You will tell him what you refuse to tell me, will you not?
Olórin sighed. Is it my fault, my friend, that it is your esteem that I most fear to lose?
If something, it is mine, Galadriel returned, thinking of Celeborn's concern after she had told him the truth about Celebrían – and also of Elrond and his lack of confidence. I seem to forever be giving my loved ones the impression that they are not good enough for me, while I never thought that about any of you.
Then let me not give you cause to begin. I will speak to Elrond now, he added and the presence of his mind disappeared from hers.
It left her with a feeling of vague disquiet, but it was pushed aside by the much larger concern.
The one ring. The one ring was found, and if Olórin's plans went well, it would be destroyed.
She wished she could shy away from what it meant, but here, in the middle of Lothlórien, she could not.
All of this, she knew, would die.
All of the realm she had spent millennia in, building, nurturing, protecting, would be lost forever.
The thought threatened to overwhelm her, added to her other woes, and she had to draw from the reserves of her strength to keep herself together. At least this time it would be a price for the fall of Sauron, she told herself, not his work. Surely the fate of this realm would be a fair price to pay to avenge your first one?
The thought did not help as much as she would have expected.
But in the end, there was nothing to do but to continue her task, and so she pushed her sorrow deep inside to where so much of it dwelt and went to work.
She contemplated whether she should call the council of Lothlórien. After some consideration, though, she decided they did not need to know – not at this juncture, at any rate. She only touched the minds of Celeborn and Feliel, calling them to her company.
"What is it, my love?" Her husband asked, arriving first. "I can sense your mind is heavy."
"Allow me to wait for Feliel, please – I wouldn't wish to have to share this twice."
He nodded his assent and simply came to embrace her, giving comfort even though he did not know what it was he consoled her from. Feliel did not take long, and once they were both present, Galadriel relayed what she had learned from Olórin.
"But that's excellent news!" Feliel cried, and then, frowning as she looked at their faces, she added: "Isn't it?"
"If it meant the ring'd be destroyed soon, and Gorthaur with him, it'd be excellent indeed," Galadriel replied tiredly, leaving her private concerns aside. "But unfortunately, at this point, the chances of successfully transporting it to Mordor are slim even when we discount all the temptations it would present for those who carried it, and it being discovered by one of us rises the chances of Gorthaur finding it as well."
"With the little folk? I'm not so certain," Celeborn muttered.
"You're correct that if it had to be found in some place, that was the best possibility except, perhaps, the bottom of the ocean. It's reassuring to see the hand of the One in something as well, not just the ever-present Doom. Still..." She sighed. "His fingers are long these days. I wouldn't be too sure." The less they concerned elves, the less Galadriel could understand Sauron's plans that she saw in his mind, but there had been a mighty stirring recently, and coupled with this information, it made her greatly worried.
Feliel left not long afterwards, when it was decided that no particular practical measures were needed at this point. Celeborn, however, stayed.
"Something worries you, even apart from the difficulties of destroying the ring, and what it would mean for us."
"Yes," she admitted. "I worry about Mithrandir – I suppose I have for a time now. But it seems very vain, for my only reason for this worry is that he keeps things from me that he never used to before."
Celeborn frowned. "Do you know why?"
"He usually gives a plausible enough reason, but the fact remains that there used to be no such reasons. Ever since he came to Middle-Earth, even though he did not remember me, he was completely open to me about everything. For the last few centuries, however, he's changed."
Celeborn considered the problem. "Do you believe he could be becoming more like the Children, owing to his long stay in a body?"
"It has occurred to me, yes," Galadriel admitted. "I'd regard it as a great pity, but still if that was the worst, it'd be very good news."
He gave her a concerned look. "You fear something else?"
"I have no particular suspicions. Just...worries."
Celeborn nodded his understanding, and spent some time cheering her before he returned to his own work. Galadriel, however, stayed in contemplation, the ring of power at its centre.
What if, she asked herself, it was not destroyed? What if it was found too impossible a task?
What would it be like, she wondered, if she could wield it?
She knew she could not, of course. She knew it was precisely the sort of temptation she was vulnerable to. She had all of Avorneth's research at her disposal, after all.
And yet, if she could...she imagined what the attack on Dol Guldur would have been like, had she had it at her disposal. How much sooner it could have taken place. How Celebrían would never have been in any danger.
It was this last thought that caused grief to intrude upon the speculations, and she shook herself. Better not consider things that could not be. She needed to prepare for what was actually to come, and with that in mind, she headed towards her mirror.
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Weeks passed as Galadriel tried to wait patiently for news from Elrond, giving one of the little folk enough time to set his affairs in order and travel to Rivendell. But still, time marched on and there was no word about the ring being there, so finally, not wishing to disturb Olórin, she touched Elrond's mind with an impatient question: Has Mithrandir arrived with the ring yet?
No, and I do not expect him for a long while still, came the calm answer.
Why? What happened? Galadriel asked, alarmed.
Elrond seemed confused. Nothing, as far as I am aware. But he told me to expect them in the autumn.
In the autumn?! Has Olórin gone insane?
I asked him why the delay as well, Elrond conceded. He said it was necessary to arrange the departure of the ring owner so that it is not too noticeable – he is a person of some renown there – and that it was the owner's wish to depart so late. And, well, you know the dangers of pressing anyone with the ring. It can turn out ugly.
Leaving the ring lying in the open can turn out much uglier, Galadriel grit out. She took a deep breath to calm herself. In any case, it was hardly Elrond's fault, and it was useless taking her frustration out on him. I suppose as long as Mithrandir is there to keep watch, it should be safe enough, she said. Still, I will contact him. He must have known I would not approve, and that was why he did not tell me.
However, when Galadriel tried to touch Olórin's mind, she found it impossible. Both through the rings and without them.
Her alarm grew, and she turned her thoughts back to Elrond. Have you been in touch with Mithrandir recently? She asked.
Not for at least a month, no. Why?
I cannot contact him. Will you try?
Elrond did, and when it was impossible for him as well, their minds grew dark with fear.
I will send a messenger to the Shire immediately, Elrond said. We have to know what happened.
Galadriel fully agreed, and blaming herself for not contacting Elrond sooner, she waited impatiently for weeks again.
Her worry increased manifold when the news from some of her scouts in border lands of Lothlórien reached her: the Ringwraiths have been spotted riding again.
Where are you, Olórin? She asked urgently, desperate. Had she not known him so well, she might have suspected his fall, even, for disappearing at such a time was conspicuous indeed. But as it was, it was impossible. She saw his mind and knew his thoughts. As a Maia, he could not hide them well except by Unwill. Had she tried, she would have been able to discover all the things he refused to tell her. She had not done so, out of respect for their friendship, but now was beginning to regret she had not. If the Ring was sitting, unprotected, against the Ringwraiths...they were all doomed. She spent days alternately pacing her flet and checking the Mirror for a sign of a new disaster coming their way.
And the news that came from Elrond, when they finally did, were terrible. The messengers have finally found the home of the ring owner. There, they discovered that Olórin was no longer in the Shire...but the ring still was.
And the Nine is riding out again, Galadriel repeated in horror, even though she had told Elrond before. The ring-owner, whoever he is, is in terrible danger. Send a guard to him at once, beloved, and let us pray it will be enough.
Of course. Nine such that remember Aman will go for him and bring him here, Elrond agreed. There is no time to lose.
Galadriel knew there was no point in her sending riders of her own, but she walked to the mountains and called to Gwaihir once again.
"We look for the Grey Wanderer," she said, "and we fear the worst. If your people saw him anywhere..."
"We will look," Gwaihir promised simply.
Galadriel returned to her forest in a restless mood. She had done what she could, but it seemed pitiful.
The days that followed were full of tightly wound anxiety, expecting the news that would pronounce the end of their world daily. Galadriel began to plan the best ways to coordinate elven escape to the Havens, and how far her own power could stretch without her ring. She knew she had no hope of defeating Sauron who had the One ring on her own. Even with Lord Laurefindil by her side, her hopes of victory were small. And there was the problem of even gettign the opportunity in the first place – he commanded large hosts, and while normally orcs hardly presented a barrier for Galadriel at all, it was a little different when imbued by the ring's power. And who knew if the ring would not be enough to get the remainign dragons on his side...it had not been the last time, but it could change.
First, she would need to cover the escape of her people. She could consider a doomed journey to Mordor once that was assured.
Still, the idea kept re-emerging in her mind – dying alone, far from the light and all that loved her, like her uncle had. It was a relief when, about a fortnight later, she finally succeeded in contacting Olórin. His mind seemed out of focus and he was not truly answering her, but she could see through his eyes, at least, and realized he was riding north from Rohan – news that confused her greatly, for what was he doing so far away? But he was alive and safe, and that calmed her. If she had to face Sauron with the Ring on his finger, he would stand by her side, she knew.
It was at least some hope to hold onto when more terrifying news came: Elrond heard from Gildor, saying that the ring-bearer was on the road with only three Hobbit friends, and that the Nine was pursuing them. And Gildor let them leave alone? Galadriel asked incredulously.
You know he wants nothing to do with the great wars since the Last Alliance.
Yes, I do know – but saving one who is pursued by the Nine...surely anyone who has any compassion left would do it! And after I begged for his help, too! Galadriel shook her head. It is things like this, she said, that show me how deep the Noldor have truly fallen. Macalaurë's lament sounded in her head, and she shook it again to clear it. What was happening to all around her lately, she wondered? But she could contemplate that later. Now it was time for direct action. What do we do? She asked Elrond.
I sent all of those who remember Aman that were left here to look for them, including Laurefindil. I truly hope the Enemy will not choose this moment to attack Rivendell, for I would find it very difficult to defend it.
The Enemy has other things on his mind now, I believe, and I can help distracting him if you wish.
Still, the fear pressed on them both and it was only partially alleviated when Olórin arrived safely in Rivendell. Only two days later, when Galadriel heard that the ring was secure there as well, could she finally let out the breath she seemed to have been holding forever and drop into exhausted sleep.
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This is the clearest case of the guidance of Eru that I have ever seen, Elrond told her soon afterwards. Since the ringbearer's arrival, Glóin with his son and a delegation came from the Lonely Mountain, as well as messengers from Mirkwood, Denothor's eldest son from Gondor, and Galdor from Lord Ciryatan. We are to decide the fate of Middle-Earth, and representatives of all the free peoples of Middle-Earth are here.
Are you certain you wish to decide it in council? Galadriel asked doubtfully, seeing the image envisioned in his mind. Our experiences with that are not the best, are they?
They are not, but we need to provide some explanation of what is happening, and there will be no Curunír in this council to turn it sour.
Maybe not, but there might be others like him.
There was a moment's pause, then Elrond said: You have not spoken to Olórin yet?
No – it appears mind speech is still difficult for him for some reason. Even though there were more important matters to think about, Galadriel still found herself worrying about her friend almost constantly since he first disappeared. I wanted to ask you what happened.
She could sense the explosion of bitterness and even anger in Elrond's mind as he replied: Curunír wants the ring for himself, that is what happened. He imprisoned Olórin in Orthank after our friend refused to help him.
There was a long silence on Galadriel's end. I...I never thought he went that far, she said at length, shocked. Such a complete betrayal...it is not that she had never considered the possibility. She had, many times, but only when the ghosts of Hollin haunted her, when she doubted whether he had truly been sent by the Valar. In her more reasonable moments, she recognized it was only her past speaking over her future, and that such worries wee not based in reality.
It had never even occurred to her that he could be sent by the Valar, and yet betray them all so profoundly.
But why had it not, she wondered? Was not The Enemy dear to Eru once? If he could betray, why not anyone else?
None of us did, Elrond replied heavily to her observation.
Yes, but I should have, Galadriel inevitably thought, and mentally waved Elrond aside when he began to protest. I know, beloved, I know. But if any of us was in a position to see it, it was me – I was the most suspicious of him, after all.
One would rather say it should have been Mithrandir, for he was the closest to him.
Galadriel frowned, but she could not exactly argue with that. After all, it had been Olórin's task to find out what Curunír was after. But how did Crurunír get Mithrandir to Orthank anyway? She asked Elrond. He is not strong enough to be able to abduct him, and besides, if he had, he would have had the ring now.
...that, I believe, is the part Olórin does not wish to tell you, Elrond replied after a moment of silence.
Why?
He is ashamed. He...I try to be compassionate towards him, but let me be honest with you: he made many mistakes in this. So many that I wonder...I have healed him when he came here, from the spells that Curunír put on him that addled his mind and made it impossible for him to mind-speak. I cannot tell if some of the damage was there before, but...he had been alone with Curunír many times. There is some chance that…
Having the kind of power you talk about over someone is not easy, and it was never precisely Curumo's provenance.
No, but he does have that voice of his, and this would not be entirely dissimilar.
Galadriel shook her head. It would, she said. I have consulted the matter of his voice and the way he uses it with someone who knew him in Aman. It is not the same way of controlling by speech that Feanárö did, or that I could do had I put my mind to it. His voice is not merely a vehicle for his will. He uses the voice itself as a tool of control. The practical effects are very similar – with one exception: it is harder to make it last longer. From what I know, he never showed any talents for a long-term control of mind, contrary to Sauron or The Enemy himself.
Elrond sighed. Then I do not know, for this was truly the only explantation I had for such a strange behaviour of Mithrandir.
He is fine now? Galadriel wanted to reassure herself.
Not entirely fine, as you discovered when you tried to contact him, but his thoughts are back to being clear at least, even if he cannot mind-speak yet.
Very well then. That at least gives me hope, and I will speak to him as soon as possible. She paused. About the council...if you insist on having it, then I would naturally like to be present in your mind.
Of course – I never even considered anything else.
Galadriel nodded. But if there are going to be Mirkwood envoys present, avoid making any mention of me, she added. No need to antagonize them. She paused. What do you plan to achieve?
Well...you know who must carry the ring.
Yes, Galadriel replied with a deep sigh. Even the mirror shows that now.
I feel grieved by that, Elrond admitted. It will cost him his life one way or another, you know that.
Yes, beloved, I would rather I could carry it, or some of the others responsible for its existence, than putting the burden on an innocent member of the little folk...but you know it is impossible.
Of course. You cannot leave Lothlórien.
She gave a short laugh. That is not the reason and you know it. I would never withstand the temptation.
Aunt…
No. There is no point in trying to dispute it. Resisting taking it by force is one thing, and I do believe myself equal to that – now, at least – but if I was given it...I would fall, and I would fall deep. I do not want you to have such great illusions about me.
They are not illusions – I simply trust you.
Galadriel did not reply, but the thought she repressed was: many did – and most of them are dead now.
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The council took place a few days later, and was exactly as productive as Galadriel had expected it to be. She could see why Elrond thought it was the best way to arrange the events, and yet – when they knew their course was right, what point was there in pretending they were consulting others about it? When the council would have simply continued on until everyone agreed that destroying the ring was the best course of action, and the unfortunate Frodo was the one to do it, however long it took?
If she could at least believe that Gondor would accept things more easily this way, there would have been some discernible benefits – but she could see the doubt in the steward's son's mind even when only looking through Elrond's eyes. He had yielded to the majority vote, but he was not convinced.
She was pleasantly surprised, on the other hand, by Thranduil's son. She had expected him to be much like his father and grandfather before him, short of temper and prejudiced against all Noldor, but it seemed his mother must truly be a wise woman, and that she must have taken care to pass on the wisdom to her son, even though she did not steer her husband in politics in any way. Legolas spoke most unlike Thranduil – reasonably and kindly, without expressing outrage where he could, and with no distaste for his company showing, not even when one of Thorin's dwarves protested their treatment in the Greenwood court so long ago.
In fact, of all those who spoke in the council – excepting, naturally, Elrond and Olórin – Prince Legolas spoke perhaps best. It seemed wonders would never cease. Mayhaps there was hope in that, for more peaceful relations with his homeland after the war was ended.
Others she might be less pleased with, but whatever objections Galadriel might have had against the council, it reached its ordained conclusions, and there was nothing truly serious to complain of.
The composition of the fellowship Elrond and Olórin had in mind to accompany the ring, however, was much more of a difficult subject.
Mithrandir and Aragorn, certainly, they have to go, she agreed when Elrond consulted with her. Frodo, naturally, is the key member, and as the one called Samwise appears greatly loyal to him, it is perhaps wise to send someone with him whom he truly trusts and knows well, to provide comfort. Glóin is a decent choice for the dwarves, I suppose, though I do not truly know him. But the rest? Prince Legolas for the elves? He is the heir of his father, and you know perfectly well what Thranduil would think of such an idea.
That is precisely why I wish for him to go, Elrond replied. Legolas is willing, and such a journey would open his mind to the world that has been kept from him until now. He told me he had begged his father for this mission, to finally see the world beyond the borders of their realm and its nearest vicinity. He is curious and willing to learn about Middle-Earth. Should we not provide some more valuable teachers than Thranduil?
Whatever I may think of Thranduil, Galadriel returned, I would never begrudge him the right to protect his young son from the intrigue of others.
I am asked to sacrifice the life of my child on the altar of this cause, Elrond replied sharply. I do not see why less should be asked of others.
Galadriel took a deep breath. There was scarcely anything she could say to that. It was not a reasonable argument, of course – it was bitter and tinged with pain – but any opposition would just hurt more.
She recalled, with unpleasant detail, the eve Arwen had decided her fate. She had spent most of the preceding day with Aragorn, and late in the night, when he slept, she came to speak with Galadriel, tears streaming down her face.
She did not need to say a word for Galadriel to understand, and she was by her granddaughter's side in a heartbeat, embracing her tightly.
"What do I do?" Arwen asked, sobbing. "How do I speak to my father now? How do I look him in the eye, even? That I would abandon him for someone I barely know..." Then her grief grew to heavy to speak, and Galadriel kept holding her, her mind on Elros those millennia ago.
Arwen had cried the night through, but in the morning, smiling and beautiful, she went to speak to her betrothed as if nothing was wrong in the world, and Galadriel could not help but dislike him a little more for that.
To her fell the task of informing Elrond, so that he could welcome his daughter back with tolerable composure. She would have preferred to go to Rivendell in person, but lately, in spite of Aragorn's efforts, the world was too dangerous again for her to leave her realm, and besides, she did not like the idea of leaving Arwen alone. Still, she was deeply worried when she called Elrond, and it was with bitter apology on her lips that she told him what had happened.
He did not blame her, exactly, nor was he exactly angry with her, but she could feel the little spark of a feeling of betrayal in his mind as he told her, in a hollow voice, that he understood and that fate spared none of them their pain.
The days that had followed were some of the hardest in Galadriel's life, and she had had some very hard days. When sun was up in the sky, she had to watch Arwen walk her realm with the Man who would cause her death by her side, seemingly utterly ignorant of what sacrifice was being made for him. During the night, she had to console the weeping Arwen, over and over again, and reassure her that her father did not blame her. Of that, at least, she was certain enough.
She was grateful for small mercies – Aragorn did not seem interested in speaking to her, so she did not have to pretend warm feelings towards him. Celeborn was in a different situation, but his pain was less sharp – he was less close to Arwen, and even less to Elrond, whose pain was the chiefest in this. He could bear talking to Aragorn with patience, though sometimes it frustrated even him.
It was immeasurable relief when Aragorn finally left, even though that meant another month of healing Arwen's sorrow before she felt ready to return to her father and Galadriel could tend to her own. Ever since then, there was a hidden strain in her talks with Elrond, a knowledge of blame on her side and of betrayal on his.
She could feel it there still, in these days when the end was in sight, and that was why she said not one word in recrimination to his bitter words.
Prince Legolas could be a hope for better cooperation with Greenwood after the war. If you send him on this quest, the hope is lost. she said instead. And I doubt Prince Legolas is particularly powerful. Would it not be better to send Lord Laurefindil, for instance?
I am considering it, Elrond replied. I thought of sending two of each race, but Mithrandir tries to convince me to put more trust in Frodo's hobbit companions.
He wants to send them? Galadriel asked in shock. Does he detest them so much?
I believe he sees the sign of Eru's will in their presence here, just as I do with Legolas and that is why I believe he should go.
And is it the same with Boromir, too?
Yes.
Galadriel sighed. There was little that could be said to the argument of divine guidance, and yet she wondered. Could they truly trust themselves that they read the signs so well? Or would the fellowship miss Lord Laurefindil's strength in some crucial moment, causing everything to be lost?
She tried to consult her mirror, but it stayed stubborn silent on everything except who would bear the ring.
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AN: Listen, film!Aragorn is weird in many ways, but one thing that can be said for him is that he fully appreciates the sacrifice Arwen is making for him. The book one seems to be pushing her into it, which….seriously, dude?