AN: With the new season out, I had to make a decision on whether or not to watch it while I'm still writing this story. As mentioned, I do have the full story planned out, but I have still decided not to watch any more of the series as I don't want it to affect my plans. This is a canon-divergence fic, and I have no intention of being swayed by the supposed "canon" this season will provide. That being said, I have no idea which of my plans may align with the screenwriters' or contradict them. I also have no plans of rewatching any of the first season, so hopefully I'm not misremembering any key conversations, characters, deaths, etc.
Finally, I want to thank you all again. It has been a long time since I published a story as I wrote it and even longer since I received such a positive response to a work. It's slow going as I have other projects in addition to a full-time job, but I'm incredibly grateful for your support and feedback.
Chapter 11: Preparations
They brought as much as they could carry from the cave. Before they left the gully, Galadriel carefully sang a noticeable knot into a nearby tree to mark the location.
"You think we would not find it again?" Halbrand teased.
"If the men ever need to find this spot, a clear marker will be invaluable to them."
Halbrand did not respond to her candid answer.
When they reached the valley, it was later than they usually returned. As usual, Tindómëon was waiting for them. He nearly flinched when Halbrand gestured to the orcish weapons they carried. "We found them. Call the council, if you would."
The captain saluted at once and tuned to his orders. Halbrand met Galadriel's eyes with a small smile. "I don't believe he's enjoyed us galivanting alone in the woods these past weeks."
Galadriel laughed despite herself.
The council meeting was short and efficient. Messengers would be sent to Pelargir and the woodsmen to make them aware of the threat. If either group wished to aid in the fight or seek refuge behind walls, they would be welcomed. Meanwhile Galadriel was to return to the main body of their forces and continue with training.
Decisions made, the council was adjourned and those who would return home in the company of the king began to prepare for the journey. Finally, only Galadriel, Halbrand, and Isildur were left in the small tent.
"My lord," Isildur began, fumbling a bit with his words. "Are you quite certain that you wish to leave me in charge of the fort once you depart? I am, of course, honored by the choice, but I have no experience leading men, especially civilians. Would not a man of more experience be better?"
Galadriel glanced quickly at Halbrand who gestured for her to stay. He was watching the younger man with a soft expression. "Isildur, what man among us is qualified for the position we hold? I have never led more than a small band at a time, yet now you call me your king. Your friend, Ontamo, was a trainee like yourself and now leads our army. Why should you not also take on more responsibility than you thought possible? Like Ontamo, you have earned your place here.
"I have heard Ontamo's stories of your final trial to become seamen. I know you still blame yourself for the failure of your companions. Neither you nor Ontamo has failed me though. I cannot turn back the clock and force your erstwhile captain to recognize your loyalty and bravery, but I will reward them as I see fit. I had planned to announce this formally after the construction was complete, but I wish you to take on the mantle of lord of this city we are building. With the distance, it would be unwise for me to leave without a formal chain of command. I believe you are best suited for it, Isildur."
Isildur stared between them, eyes wide in shock. Galadriel smiled gently back at him. She had approved Halbrand's plan weeks ago as they wandered the woods together.
"I… are you sure, my lord? I'm not even a Southlander."
Halbrand laughed. "No indeed, but neither is our little nation. As long as men of the South and Númenor dwell together, their leadership should mirror that, should it not?"
"Isildur," Galadriel spoke softly when it appeared the younger man was going to continue arguing. "Halbrand speaks truly. You are a capable leader. Do us the honor of trusting our judgement of you."
Isildur's lip trembled for a moment before he bowed low to them both. "I will not let you down, my king, General. Thank you for this opportunity to serve you."
"I will hold you to that." Halbrand reached out to lay a hand on Isildur's shoulder. "Congratulations, Isildur."
He straightened, a blinding smile on his face that quickly morphed into something more bashful. "Ah, before you begin the journey home, I have a request for you, my lord. I have asked Cerys for her hand. Would you wed us, as our king?"
Galadriel smiled at the unmasked shock on her companion's face before he recovered himself. "It would be my honor, though I'm afraid I do not know the customs of a Númenórean wedding."
"Cerys is not of Númenor, and I feel nearly as settled here as I had there. Regardless, we would have no one to attend the ceremony. Southlander weddings are much smaller and don't have the same pageantry associated with them."
Halbrand nodded. "If that is what you want, I would be pleased to assist. Is there anyone else in the camp you would wish to bear witness?"
"No, my lord."
"Excellent," Galadriel broke in, smiling. "I will retrieve Cerys and bring her here while the two of you finalize the details."
She grabbed a small bundle from the bottom of her travel bag before leaving the tent. At this late hour, Cerys was likely to be back in her tent on the far side of the barracks, so Galadriel avoided the main section of the camp, instead moving around the back.
The healer nearly fell over herself to curtsy when Galadriel entered the tent. "General Galadriel, what a surprise. Please, what can I do for you this evening?"
"Ah, my apologies for interrupting your evening. Isildur just informed us that he asked for your hand. Unfortunately, the king and I will be returning to the capital city first thing tomorrow, so Isildur asked that we perform the ceremony tonight if you are willing."
Wide hazel eyes stared back at her in shock. "You mean, now?"
Galadriel smiled warmly. "If you wish."
Cerys nodded, her eyes still glassy with shock. "I… of course. Thank you, my lady. I'm afraid I have nothing to wear. Many of my belongings are still in the city."
"I assumed as much and brought this from my own bags. I believe with a few minor adjustments we can make this fit you." Galadriel removed a pale golden dress with a gold-adorned leather belt from the bundle she'd brought along. Cerys was much shorter than Galadriel, but a few temporary stitches would correct the length and could be easily hidden by the belt.
Once adjustments were in place and Cerys had dressed, Galadriel stepped back, admiring the way the dress set off the medic's loose coppery curls. "There, you look the bride of a Númenórean lord now."
Cerys flushed in pride.
When they returned to Halbrand's tent, the two men were growing impatient. Isildur snapped to attention when Galadriel entered. She took in his nervous shifting and Halbrand's nearly imperceptible eye roll before opening the tent flap again for Cerys. Isildur stilled instantly, his eyes wide and face flushed in wonder.
The two stood together in front of Halbrand while Galadriel stood as witness. The rite was short and informal, little more than an expression of gratitude for their past and future service and well-wishes for their union. After Halbrand finished, Galadriel stepped forward with a short blessing in Elvish before laying a hand on each of their foreheads.
"Congratulations," she murmured, leading them back out of the tent. They thanked her, but were distracted, their gazes constantly drifting back to one another. Galadriel smiled as she watched them dazedly drift back into the falling darkness.
xXxXx
The air was chilly in the half-light heralding the dawn. Galadriel and Halbrand were talking quietly beside their saddled horses, waiting for the rest of the party to complete preparations when Isildur approached them.
"Lord Isildur, I did not expect to see you before our departure." Galadriel allowed a small smirk to twist her lips.
Halbrand laughed lightly at Isildur's flushed face. "I do hope you didn't interrupt a pleasant dream on our account."
The younger man's blush deepened but he smiled readily at them. "Alas, I come on behalf of my bride. She wished me to return this to you, General, with our gratitude before you departed." He held out a familiar bundle to Galadriel, who took it smiling.
"It was my pleasure. I wish the two of you many years of happiness together. I believe you to be well suited for one another."
Isildur's answering smile was blinding.
"I am glad you were able to meet us before we left, however." Halbrand cut in, his tone more serious now. "Keep a guard in the valley and a rider ready in case there is an attack from Cirith Ungol. I think it is far more likely any large attack will sweep down from the north, but they may seek to flank us. If Adar survived, that is the sort of ploy he may seek to implement. I do not believe the orcs will be ready to attack us for some time yet, but it would be far worse to be caught off-guard than for us to overprepare. If there's anything more that you need from us, you need only ask."
Isildur bowed low but straightened quickly when Halbrand clapped his shoulder. "Now, get back to your wife. I'm sure she needs you more than we do this morning."
The remaining farewells were brief as the others of their company had finished readying for the journey while Isildur spoke with the king. Now about half of the combined number Galadriel and Halbrand had originally brought were mounted and ready for the journey home.
Tindómëon rode up next to Halbrand. "Are we ready, my lord?"
"Indeed, it is time we began."
Galadriel smiled at them both before Halbrand kicked his horse into a trot, leading the party down the valley and away from the completed fort walls. The others followed immediately.
The journey back to the capital would take several days, rendered longer than usual by a stop at the cave Galadriel had found. They needed to collect any remaining supplies from the cache, both to ensure nothing useful went to waste and in case more orcs came through the area. An extra packhorse had been brought for this purpose as well.
The cave was much as Galadriel had anticipated, though the better torches and additional hands did uncover a wider variety of supplies than they had noted on the first occasion. Weapons still made up the bulk. After an hour, everything of use had been removed from the caves and bundled onto the horses for the journey. With several hours left until nightfall, they continued west.
"My lord." Tindómëon drew his horse into step beside Halbrand's once they'd left the cave behind. "Pardon the intrusion but I heard you wed Isildur and Cerys last night."
Halbrand glanced over at Galadriel, eyebrows raised in question, before his expression became neutral and he returned his attention to his captain of the guard. "Indeed. Isildur asked for my assistance before we departed. I had suspected his attraction but did not realize he had already asked for her hand. Why do you ask?"
Tindómëon fidgeted for a moment, looking somewhat hesitant as he considered his words. "My lord, I know you have made him governor of the future city there. It is good that you also encouraged him to take a wife and extend his family line. However, if it is not impertinent for me to suggest it, perhaps it would be prudent to begin looking for a wife for yourself. As king it is vital for you to provide an heir for the throne."
In his quest to avoid his king's eye, Tindómëon did not appear to notice that his target was no longer alongside him. Galadriel, meanwhile, immediately fell back with Halbrand who looked more shocked than she'd ever seen him.
"Is something troubling you?" She teased lightly, chuckling at the bland expression he turned on her in response.
"Ah, my lord?" Tindómëon had fallen back alongside them. "Is everything alright?"
"Of course. I had not considered the question of an heir, to be honest. I don't know that there's any real honor left in my line. It was only happenstance that led me here after all. Perhaps the crown should pass to one more worthy after me."
Tindómëon gaped at Halbrand, but Galadriel studied him thoughtfully. It was as good an excuse as any to avoid the question of an heir, but words from the early days of their alliance rang loudly in her memory. "We would only rule until peace and knowledge has come to this land. Then we would pass the reins of power to others. We could live out our lives in peace and tranquility." She had doubted his sincerity then. Perhaps she shouldn't have.
"My lord, be that as it may, you should still pursue a queen and family. If you wish the throne to pass to another, that can be arranged, but the continuity of your line in the ruling of our people will be important for morale, especially if something were to befall you before your time."
Halbrand laughed, but it sounded strained. "Of course. I will consider it, Tindómëon, but I do not believe this is the time. With orcs encroaching from the east and the fleet of Númenor an uncertain force to our west, I feel it is more prudent for me to focus on protecting our people. After all, an heir is of no use to them if we are brought under the yoke of another."
All arguments raised by the captain were shut down in much the same tone. Finally, he pulled away from them, leaving Halbrand and Galadriel to lead the party in uneasy quiet.
"Even should you distract them from the question of an heir, they will eventually notice that you do not age. Have you given thought to an explanation?"
Halbrand glanced over at her but kept his face impassive and his voice low. "If we assume my connection with the old kings of the Southlanders comes from my mother's side, it is entirely plausible for my father to have been a Númenórean sailor, raiding along the coast far to the south of Pelargir. I would not necessarily have been privy to that knowledge, but the combination of slow aging and an old tale of a young man from across the sea would permit me an educated guess, don't you agree?"
"It does not reflect well on the sailors from Númenor, but it does provide you a good cover and increases your claim to the throne. Of course," Galadriel hid a smile in her hand, "it also gives Tindómëon more reason to push you for our own heir. You cannot argue to foist the responsibility on one of the lines of Númenor if you have an equal blood claim with Isildur's heir."
Halbrand laughed quietly. "I suppose that's true, but I may still try. He will have to give up eventually though. Even should I take a wife, I will not be able to provide an heir. There is no record of a Maiar producing offspring, even with a mortal mate." His voice had sunk into a lower strained tone. Galadriel watched him warily but did not comment on his obvious discomfort.
A few moments of silence followed with only the low murmurs from the men behind them. Finally, Halbrand broke the stillness with another chuckle, less bitter this time. "Of course, the queen's throne is always available to you, whenever you decide to claim it."
Galadriel did not dignify him with a reply, but Halbrand laughed easily beside her. Although dismissing his comment, she fought back a small smile. This carefree pleasure was far preferable to her over his short-lived melancholy, even if it did come at her expense.
xXxXx
The journey passed in a sort of haze, though far different than her journey into the woods. No spell of the forest settled over her senses, but Galadriel felt captivated by the easy camaraderie with her companions. All too soon, the forest gave way to open meadow, and soon the easternmost buildings in their city broke the western horizon.
The dream was broken, and the common requirements of daily life took its place. Halbrand returned to the palace as soon as he dismounted, calling Tindómëon behind him. Galadriel watched him go, feeling strangely regretful, before rousing herself to her own responsibilities.
Once the supplies had been unloaded, Galadriel released the men back to their own homes to rest while she began walking toward the edge of the camp where the remaining soldiers would be training.
Ontamo had made great progress over the intervening months with the core of their army. Galadriel watched from the side of the field as the men trained, their form solid. After several minutes, Ontamo called a halt and instructed everyone to switch partners. Before they began the next round, Galadriel stepped forward.
"If I might have a moment of your attention?"
Several of the younger soldiers cried out for General Galadriel while their elders greeted her formally. She smiled at them all, but soon turned back to Ontamo, whose brow was furrowed in confusion. She allowed the smile to fall from her face.
"I have news for you all. During our time in the east, we did not see evidence of the orcs actively using the pass through the mountains, but we did find a cache of weapons guarded by a few orcs in the forest. They have been disposed of, but they only had limited information about their purpose in the area. From our investigation, it appears that the orcs of the Dark Lands are planning an attack on the forest and perhaps our city."
Muttering broke out amongst the soldiers and Galadriel watched as they tightened their grips on their weapons. She raised a hand to regain their attention.
"We have confiscated their supplies. If they were to attempt an attack soon, they would find themselves woefully unprepared for the fight. No, it is far more likely that they have been replacing the guards at the cache periodically and slowly building up the stores in parallel. When the next group comes to relieve the current guards, they will find their work erased. They must either abandon their plans or start the tedious process again.
"Regardless of their decision, we have gained valuable time to prepare. War is coming with the orcs. It is only a matter of when and who shall initiate it. We have set back their preparations, so it is time we accelerated our own."
She stepped away from them and withdrew a bundle of the orcish weapons from where she had left it next to the nearest building. "These are the weapons of our enemies. Train with them. You will be forced to parry them, dodge them, and perhaps use them should your own weapon be lost. I will also train any who wishes to learn to use a bow in combat. For now, continue your training. You no longer train for some hazy distant future but for the upcoming battle, to protect your families and friends from the shadow that creeps beneath your eaves. The hope and future of our people rests with you. Do not fail them."