Chapter 8: Flattery and Lies

Hours later, once she was safely ensconced in her bedding, Galadriel would think back on that moment as Halbrand knelt before the king of Númenor and struggle to remember what thoughts darted through her mind. What conscious decision had commanded her body to move while the soldiers stood flabbergasted around her? No matter how long she mused, she could not recall the choice, but move she had.

After but a few heartbeats, Galadriel dropped to a knee before the throne, mimicking Halbrand's action. The rest of the soldiers soon followed until the whole party knelt in front of the dais.

The room was silent, and Galadriel's breaths rang in her ears like the winds of a mighty storm. She fought the urge to look up at the throne. Finally, the silence shattered.

Pharazôn laughed.

He laughed long and hard, and still Galadriel kept her head down, though she did sneak a glance at Halbrand. The King of the Southlanders had not moved. He was rigid where he knelt, like a carved statue of a man.

The laughter from the throne finally waned. "You speak well, my friend. Indeed, perhaps I misjudged you. Rise."

Galadriel stood with the others and finally looked up at the dais. The king had a satisfied smile as he relaxed upon the throne.

"I have kept you in my presence without regard for the distance you have traveled. You have my apologies. Please, you are here as my guests, and I always hold to my responsibilities. I will have rooms prepared for your party, and they may stay and see the city. As for you, I wish to speak to you further, Halbrand. You have great wisdom despite your youth."

Halbrand bowed again and thanked the king warmly, though his voice still held that strange unnatural quality.

The king barked orders at a few of his soldiers, and the Southlanders turned to leave the hall. From somewhere behind the dais, Galadriel heard a door snap shut.

"Ah, Elendil, good. I'm glad you've returned. How is the fleet?"

Galadriel turned quickly, her eyes immediately finding the Númenórean general. She had only taken a step forward before his eyes turned upon her with such cold fury that she froze.

Elendil's face twisted into a snarl, and he leaned down to Pharazôn's ear, drawing the king's attention to her for the first time during the audience.

The king's eyes filled with a deep hatred as he slowly stood, still staring down at her. "You dare show your face here, elf?"

Galadriel took a step back, noticing that her companions had stopped and were arrayed around her. She swallowed her sudden discomfort and spoke clearly. "I am the official envoy of the elves to the court of Halbrand of the Southlanders. If he chooses to include me in his council, what say do you have against it?"

"The Southlander can speak to whomever he wishes, but he has no right to bring the enemies of my people, especially the individual responsible for my queen's injury, here in front of my throne. You are not welcome here."

Halbrand stepped up beside her, shooting a quick warning glance her way before bowing to Pharazôn. "Your majesty, General Galadriel is a trusted advisor of my court and was the messenger that bore your request for an audience. She came with my party in good faith. Will you honor your offer of hospitality, or must my companions and I undertake our travels home without refreshment?"

Pharazôn scowled, looking between Galadriel and Halbrand slowly. Finally, he turned away, gesturing toward the door. "I will not revoke my hospitality. The elf may remain in the city, but she must stay with your men. I remember the trouble she caused in Armenolos. She is your responsibility, Halbrand. Keep your bitch on her leash."

Halbrand bowed again, but as he turned from the king, Galadriel saw his eyes flash dangerously. His hand shook as he laid it on her shoulder and led her out of the audience chamber.

Once they emerged back into the sunlight, the subdued party retrieved their weapons and were shown to a small building that lay empty near the gate. There were bunks for the men, crammed wall to wall in the three small rooms.

"The White Stag is there," the guard said gruffly, gesturing to a tavern with wide windows across the street. "You are free to take your meals in the common room but try not to wander off. The king will send word if he wishes another audience."

Tindómëon thanked him, and the group was left alone.

"My friends." Halbrand's voice was quiet, but it carried through the rooms, bringing every man's attention to him. "We suspected ill forces were at work in Númenor, and now our fears are confirmed. Queen Miriel has been displaced, and those who crave power have snatched it from the worthy. For now, we must be cautious. I will speak again with Pharazôn when he calls me. If we can convince him that we mean no harm, then we may yet return to our lands without the shadow of Númenor threatening us all."

Galadriel faced Halbrand, feeling heat rise within her. "Is it really wise for us to ally, even conditionally, with one who has abandoned the old ways? Do we not court our own destruction if we support such a man?"

She heard the men muttering behind her, but kept her eyes fixed on her king. He looked back at her and sighed. "I have no intention of allying with Pharazôn, but it would be folly to antagonize him at this time. For this reason," he looked from Galadriel to the rest of the men. "I ask all of you to comply with the rules set out for us here. As long as we give no cause, no one here can harm us. This is our right as guests."

The men around Galadriel were nodding, looking satisfied, as Halbrand finished and walked to a nearby bunk. She pursed her lips but said nothing.

The soldiers settled in quickly, their few belongings having already been brought to the rooms. The audience itself had been short, but they had not stopped to take a meal since they broke camp at dawn, so the men left quickly for the tavern. Soon Galadriel and Halbrand were alone.

The silence weighed on her as she watched Halbrand linger over his bags. Finally, she snapped. "So, you plan to keep me on a leash until we are free to leave this wretched city?"

Halbrand sighed and leaned back against the headboard, eyes shut. "Galadriel, you could not be leashed even if I were foolish enough to try. However, we are outnumbered here, and the men are not as strong as you. I don't know if you recall Pharazôn from our time on Númenor, but he is ruthless. He will use every one of our men against us if he feels threatened."

Grimly, Halbrand opened his eyes and fixed his gaze on Galadriel. "We have a duty to our men. They have families and lives waiting back in our city. Will you do what you must, whatever you must, to ensure every one of them returns home safely?"

They stared at one another. Galadriel could feel the bite of her nails into the palms of her hands. Finally, she lowered her eyes and groaned in defeat. "I will follow the terms imposed on me. It chafes to grant any courtesy to the inconstant, but I will bear the humiliation in silence."

Halbrand smiled though his face was tired. "Thank you. I will shield you from them as much as I can, but your support means more than I can say."

Galadriel scoffed and sat heavily on the bunk next to him. "I have no need for your protection. I have born my shame in silence before, and I will again. Focus your protection on the men, especially Tindómëon. I fear Pharazôn will try to sway him to leave our company."

"You may be right, but it will be his decision." Galadriel looked up at him sharply. "I will not force Tindómëon to stay should he wish to leave. I have grown to appreciate his company and skill, but I've learned much of men during our stay among them. His worth to our cause would be sorely lessened were his allegiance not freely given."

Galadriel chuckled lightly, causing Halbrand to purse his lips, almost in a pout. She laughed harder. "We may yet make a benevolent king of you."

Halbrand's brow creased in confusion for a moment before he broke into a grin. The warmth of it stilled Galadriel's laughter as she looked in wonder at his joyful countenance.

He reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently. Galadriel looked down at it dumbly as her stomach churned. "Thank you," he said softly, bringing her eyes back to his. "You have proven my words more correct than I could have imagined. I never thought I could be a good king, much less a good man. Your light has banished the lingering shadows of Morgoth that clung to the corners of my soul. You have managed what I for centuries struggled to accomplish."

She squeezed his hand and returned his smile, though her heart still pounded. "You have proven your faith to these people and your quality as their king. We both know how short our time among men has been in the face of the millennia of our lives, but I hope you stay the course and one day, we may both receive the grace of the Valar."

His smile faltered, and he sighed. "Of course." He opened his mouth, likely to say something else but instead he stood and stretched. "Enough of such topics. We must meet the men and break bread with them. Then I suspect Pharazôn will call me back. Please try to stay with the men while I'm out. You can even consider yourself their guard if you wish, but don't cause trouble."

Galadriel felt the surge of anger but stopped short when she saw Halbrand's teasing smile. She rolled her eyes and walked toward the door. "I never cause trouble. You, however, must be on your guard against fist fights with peasants."

As they entered the street laughing together, a guard stopped them. "Lord Halbrand. The king is ready for you now."

"I have not yet eaten, sir. I will gladly accompany you once I have taken a meal."

The guard frowned. "King Pharazôn has summoned you. I will bring a meal up from the kitchens, but you must not delay."

Halbrand sighed. Looking at Galadriel, he muttered, "Stay with the men and be careful, all of you."

She nodded, and he turned back to the guard, his voice falling once more into the oily tones he'd used in the throne room. "Of course, sir. I am at the king's command. Let us not tarry here."

The guard turned back up the street, and soon both men were lost from her view. Feeling oddly exposed in the open street now that she was alone, Galadriel quickly entered the tavern and took a seat with her men.

By the third day in the city, Galadriel felt she would go mad. Although Tindómëon occasionally went out into the city with one or another of the citizens, the rest of the Southlanders had confined themselves to their rooms and the tavern. Halbrand had barely slept in the room with them, and she had not spoken to him at all since he had been called before the king.

This endless waiting, Galadriel decided, was even more grating than the time she'd spent in a Númenórean prison. The illusion of freedom in this place was just that, an illusion. She was no less a captive than she had been in their capital. She hated it.

The day was rainy, so the soldiers seemed even more content than normal to huddle together in the tavern and play dice. Tindómëon had introduced a few of the Númenórean soldiers to the company and now the mixed group was coexisting cheerfully.

Galadriel had taken a spot by the window early in the day, hoping to glean some bit of information from the passersby in the street, but the streets were empty while the steady rain seemed unlikely to abate. Finally, she stood, took a quick look around the room to ensure she wasn't observed, and slipped out of the tavern.

The rain was pleasant as she hastened through the empty street. It was doubtful that anyone would be out on such a day, but she didn't want to chance being recognized through a window. The sheer white walls closed in on her as Galadriel made her way into smaller alleys, finally slowing her pace now that she was shielded from glancing eyes.

She knew it was foolish to be outside alone, but the thrill of freedom was enough to quell any misgivings. The winding streets guided her through the city, though Galadriel kept the tall gate tower in her view so she could navigate back to her rooms. After a few minutes, a floral perfume reached her through the scent of rain and sea that clung to the city streets.

Galadriel gathered her bearings then moved slowly in the direction of the new scent. The alley narrowed and twisted before it ended abruptly, spilling into a labyrinth of terraced gardens and covered walkways. Keeping one eye on the nearest portico, she hesitantly entered the garden.

A long row of dark hedges stretched out to her right, so she turned that way, staying in the narrow space between foliage and the outer wall. For the first time since she'd arrived in the city, she felt peaceful.

Galadriel wandered the gardens for a long time. As long as she kept between the walls and the hedges, she needn't fear being caught. Idly she wished that in the future she could return and explore properly. She was sure the scene would be idyllic by starlight.

The rain had started to die down finally, and Galadriel knew she ought to return to her quarters before the others realized her absence. As she turned back toward where she'd entered the garden, she was startled by the sound of Halbrand's voice drawing near on the other side of the hedge.

"I fear you're right, my lord. Even though you now hold the title of king, the men don't respect you as they did Ar-Zimraphel. I can see their distrust in their eyes."

"What can I do, Halbrand? My wife has no better claim to the throne than I, and her injury renders her incapable of ruling. Why do the people revere her?" Pharazôn's voice was nervous, even as Halbrand's remained calm and deferential.

"Despite the heavy losses, she claimed a great victory over the remnants of the dark. When did a lord of Númenor last defeat the forces of Morgoth? She proved again the strength of men, especially as she'd been begged for help by a renowned elf."

"That blasted elf. Why you brought her is completely beyond me." Pharazôn grumbled, barely audible to Galadriel.

Halbrand laughed. "She has her uses. And if the forces of evil are gathering in the Dark Lands again, I may yet have need of her kin. I know your loathing of elves, but they are a useful weapon you have chosen to ignore. Why, they are still the only beings on Middle Earth who may sail west."

"Yes, they still claim Valinor to be somewhere just out of sight of our lands. I have yet to see any evidence such a place exists, much less is populated with elves."

There was silence for a moment before Halbrand's quiet voice reached Galadriel. "It exists. I have seen it."

Galadriel felt the blood drain from her face. She could hear the two walking away from her, so she slowly followed them, concealing herself behind a group of rose bushes as she left the safety of the hedges.

"Even those who believe in the place agree no man can set foot on those shores. How have you seen it?" Pharazôn demanded loudly.

"I did not land on its shores, but I did see them. Like all men, I've heard the stories. Even elves are no longer welcome to walk on those sands, or so they say. But I followed a ship of elves and saw them land. They returned to their boat unharmed."

"Why would they have told us it was impossible then? What are they hiding from us?"

"Immortality."

Galadriel's breath caught as Halbrand continued softly, his unctuous voice drawing her inexorably forward.

"I know the lives of the men of Númenor have faded over the generations of your ancestors. Perhaps this is why. Perhaps the stories are wrong, and the secrets of your long life were once found in Valinor."

Pharazôn did not respond but his footsteps seemed to be moving away from her hiding place. At first Galadriel was worried they'd moved out of her hearing, but from a distance she heard Halbrand again.

"You seek a great victory to solidify your rule in Númenor. What greater victory can there be than that over death itself?"

As the voices moved out of hearing, Galadriel's fury coursed through her, white hot. She began to retreat from the rose bush she was concealed behind but froze at the bite of cold steel against her neck.

"What have we here? Rarely is an elf caught off guard. I must be in luck."

"Elendil," Galadriel murmured without turning. She had not seen him since that first audience with the king and was wary of attracting his ire again.

"Are you truly incapable of staying out of trouble or do you simply consider yourself above the laws of men?" Elendil continued, his tone oddly upbeat.

Galadriel sighed, squashing her anger at Halbrand and focusing on the conversation at hand. "Please, I have made no trouble. I have spoken to no one and have stayed outside in the street. Is it a crime now to enjoy a stroll in the rain?"

Elendil barked a laugh. Galadriel felt the blade removed from her throat for a moment before he grabbed her arm and spun her to face him. His face was red and contorted with rage. "Why are you here? Have you not taken enough from us? From me?"

Galadriel stared into his furious eyes, noting wetness that had not come from the rain. Her own eyes widened in realization. "He is not dead, Elendil."

The old captain faltered. "What?"

She could feel his hand shaking where it still held her arm. Galadriel smiled and spoke gently, as if handling a wounded animal. "Isildur emerged from the Dark Lands well after us and was taken prisoner by some wandering bandits. Our healers were able to nurse him back to health. He bears a few scars from his ordeal but is otherwise unharmed."

"Where is he?" Elendil's voice was a whisper even as his eyes burned into hers.

"On a mission for the king, scouting a pass where the orcs may be emerging from Mordor." Galadriel paused for a moment, observing the stunned expression on her former friend's face. "Isildur is happy here, you know. He is courting an apprentice healer and has become a leader of the army. He is well respected and loved by all who know him."

Elendil blinked rapidly and stepped back from Galadriel. She politely turned back to admire the flowers as he worked to regain control of his emotions.

Finally, Elendil spoke behind her. "Thank you for taking in my son." His voice was soft but even, so Galadriel turned back to him. He looked tired, as though he had aged a decade in the past few moments. "I have allowed my grief to cloud my judgement. Your news has brought clarity back to my mind at last, and I fear I have made a great many mistakes. Now I must try to correct them."

Galadriel frowned. "I do not understand you, my friend, but I will render any aid you permit."

"I don't believe there is any aid you can give me. Only, please promise you'll continue to look out for my son. It may be safer for him here, but I regret I will not be able to see him before our departure."

Galadriel clapped him on the shoulder. "He shall be well cared for in our company. He will also know of your concern and relief to hear news of him. Isildur loves you, Elendil. He will be glad to know he has not been forgotten."

Elendil smiled weakly, then turned back toward the nearest portico. "You must go now. I will not speak to Pharazôn of our meeting, but he must not find you here."

Without responding, Galadriel turned and stole silently back to the alley by which she'd entered. She turned once as she reached the marble walls once more, but Elendil was gone.