Their footfalls echoed in deafening thuds down dark- stoned halls. Galadriel's limbs shook, trembling harder than a month of marching into the cold of the North. He had let her dance alone for almost an hour while Adar whispered in his ear she had reckoned, that swirl of possessing smoke still sticking to her mouth and tongue. Her lip still sore and seeping blood from that claiming kiss, she dabbed the wound with the cuff of her dress.

But that small bite was nothing compared to the gnawing ache of her ever growing suspicion. Halbrand as king was surprising though she hated to admit it. Halbrand…. Sauron, she chastised herself…. For as surprising, and honestly tantalizing as he had been thus far, Adar clearly continued his own motivations and manipulations. Unsurprising. Finding another way of subverting his master to gut Sauron in a new way perhaps.

Her mind raced as they walked in silence away from the throne room, Sauron's attention elsewhere as well it seemed. Nevermind, she assured herself. It suited her after what he did. Putting her in that cloud of magic to keep her from seeing his true choices. His choice to listen to Adar. Another battle now between her and that moriondor abomination; if she could help Halbrand see his manipulation, perhaps he would allow her to see more of the fortress, maybe even the dungeons… of course if she were queen, she could have access on her own authority. Her own power. The thought sent a ripple of cool flashing magic from her fingers to her heart it seemed, tingling down her every nerve.

The walls around them rumbled, vibrating and quaking as a deep groan filled her ears. The very earth shook beneath her feet. Her hands caught the wall at her side, almost throwing her into an opening in the onyx stone.

Galadriel held herself steady at the window, narrow and tall, to look out into the blazing darkness. Her flesh seemed to flame and melt at the memory of the mountain's eruption. The ghost of pain numbed her body. But not so numb, she could still feel his body drawn up right behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders as he pressed her back against him.

"The mountain is always awake, Galadriel," he said, his voice quiet, daring to speak for the first time since they left the court. Since he pulled her from that cloud of smoke and whisked her away with barely more than a wave to his attendants. His hands slowly ran down her arms together, that scalding caress barely registering through her thoughts. His voice tickled just inside her right ear, "But Oroduin only stirs like that when it senses a new rise in power." His lips grazed the sensitive and pointed tip with his tongue. "You cast your voice into minds. Your ring pierces and prevents even my magic… What have you been doing, Galadriel?" he murmured harshly.

He knew. Of course, had she not been warned? Her gut dropped as she stood taller, preparing for a confrontation of a new kind. "I could ask the same," she rejoined, again her eyes narrowed into that calculating, merciless glare as she turned to face him.

His brow quirked at her adorable defiance, the mountain rumbling again the more enraged she grew. "I have never had one push against or resist my control in such a way before," he assessed.

He looked proud of her, she realized, confusion darkening her own expression. "I am not doing anything of my own volition, I assure you," she replied, her chin tilting up at him in defiance.

"I know that, Galadriel," he smirked. "If you had, there would already have been consequences." His hand gripped her left fingers tightly, raising them into his sight. "Did Celebrimbor tell you what it is you wear?"

Her breath froze in her lungs, that cold and icy wave of the ring's magic seemed to flow between her flesh and his touch. As if it could hear his words as well.

"This is a power you do not want, one you do not know how to control," his voice pedantic. "But I could teach you," his touch burned through the chill between them, sending her magic back into the metal from whence it came. "I can feel every ice cold ripple of your magic," he said, passing his thumb over the ring one more time before letting her hand fall back to her side.

"Well, yours feels like I've stuck my face in a smoldering fire as it guts out for the night," she sniffed, surprised at how defensive she felt of her magic.

He barked a laugh. A laugh! Those smiling lines around his eyes drawing her into that piercing green gaze. "Aulë would be proud to hear that," he laughed again. "Ages with my head in the forge and sorcery of fire comes with a unique signature, it seems." His shoulders relaxed as he cupped her cheek in his palm. "And no one has ever dared to describe my magic to me before."

"I would hope I am no longer 'no one' to you," Galadriel murmured, words she meant to sweeten with false emotion, surprisingly coming from her lips with ease. And an ache in her heart.

His smile softened as he brought her face up to meet his, his lips tender and gentle as they brushed on hers. "You are the twin flame of my power, the only one I would bring to sit by my throne. The only one fated by the Valars to save Middle Earth at my side," his words whispered right into her mouth, tasting sweet to her tongue.

That nagging image of Adar's counsel through the smoke would not leave her mind, no matter how gentle his caress was. And words tugged at her throat to mention it. Words she could no longer swallow. "You should not place your trust in Adar," she whispered as her mouth was freed, his kisses traveling along her collarbone.

"I will do anything to keep you, Galadriel," his words branded her skin, "save the earth or burn it all. Whatever I need to do to have you forever." Hands gripped into her shoulders, his body's weight pressing her against the narrow and pointed edges of the window behind her. The pain flared the cold and liquid magic at her fingertips, pushing against the wall of black smoke that wisped around them now. Suddenly, he grabbed her thighs, grasping them to lift her into the narrow window ledge, her hips barely fitting in the open space. Hard dark edges of the window on every side, her back pressed precariously against the horizontal bars that closed them in from the winds of Mordor.

His kiss consumed her lips again, her breath stolen by his own. Against her will, her body melted at his touch on her skin, his taste on her tongue. No matter how her mind beat against her body, she swooned and shivered as his hands crept up her skirt, lifting the swirl of her skirts to her hips. Rough and quick. With a groan, he thrust into her, her hand flying behind her to grip the warm iron crossbar of the window. His mouth barely lifted from hers as he plunged into her again and again. His breath hot as flame itself heated her from the inside out, pushing her to her own breaking point. Every grunt, cry, or moan that issued from them echoed louder against the stone. Only drowned by the rumbling eruptions of the mountain in the distance. Every tremor through the rock shook her where he entered her, delicious friction and vibrations blinding her with unspeakable pleasure. A quicker pace within her, a deeper rumble of eruption, and she burst into trembling heat and searing pleasure through every aching muscle of her body. A groan, a thrashing jolt, and he stilled as well, his red, burnished head resting a moment on her shoulder as he caught his breath.

His arms wrapped around her, his hair near her face smelling of sweet smoke and musk as he pressed her even tighter against him. "I will bind you to me, Galadriel, and I will bind myself to you," he whispered. "Even if our old enemy has to aid us to find a way to do so."

She shuddered as he withdrew, his eyes boring into her own as he adjusted his tunic once more. Any critical thoughts still pricking her conscience at what she did, she pushed them way down deep and away. Perhaps she had a chance to fight the darkness that threatened to draw him back to the evil he had been. Flipping her skirts down, she nodded her head. "Your counsel with Adar will help seal us together, then," she did not ask it, affirming rather as she slid herself down from the tall window ledge. "And what gives you the confidence to trust him after all he did to you? What if he gives you just a new knife with which to slit your own throat?"

That assured angle of her head only made him grin warmly in reply.

"What if he is but contriving to kill you again?"

"So protective for someone who has also threatened my demise," he grinned as he took her hand, threading her arm through the crook of his own. "If it soothes your worries, the moriondor has already atoned for his sins, I assure you. I need him," he turned his gaze upon her with full force, self-assured and commanding, "we need him."

With that he made his point clear. Let it lie. But Galadriel was never one for leaving things alone. For now, she could bide her time and keep watch.