Chapter Text
The Sack of Eregion
What is darkness, but the absence of light? Or evil, the absence of good? Or was the very song that created much of existence an intentional recognition that no creation would be purely good, just as none would be purely evil?
Galadriel stared at the battlefield around her, the ringing in her sensitive ears drowning out the horrific cries of her fellow soldiers. All manner of dark beings surged on the resistance as each elven death meant Sauron was closer to Eregion. To Celebrimbor and the rings.
There would not be enough time for Elrond to escape with many of the innocent residents of the city. Since the creation of the one ring, there was no holding back Sauron’s forces, not for long. Gil-Galad’s army failed just as many had before.
She knew what was required of her. Shunned by many of her people after she shamefully revealed the truth, Halbrand deceived them all, a plan only Galadriel could enact, should it be necessary, was developed between the bearers of the rings of power. The silent contemplation of the High King and Elrond, neither wishing to ask such a thing from her, but it would be best if she paid the price of her folly.
The battlefield came back to her senses in full force as the cry of a lumbering orc interrupted Galadriel’s reverie. She dispatched the creature with ease, but even the bodies of the eldar could grow tired after days of slewing orc across Eriador. Every inch of her felt covered in blood, dirt, and grime as she felled many of Sauron’s seemingly endless forces.
She said a prayer under her breath that Elrond would foresee the window she had given him to escape, should even her attempts fail. At the very least, one would grieve her loss, even if he could not bear to look upon the elven warrior much in recent days. Sauron had lived because of Galadriel. Evil had been allowed to endure. And just as she had been warned, there would be no safe haven among her people once more.
Her keen eyes scanned the battlefield, searching for the black armor that was designed by Aulé’s best smith. The oppressive call in the back of her mind was sign enough that Sauron was not far. While the presence of his mind often tried to tease her own, the creation of the one ring made his soft knocks a battering ram. Only the power of her ring could keep him out.
But she did not seek to keep him out any longer.
Her distracted gaze nearly caused her to miss the charging troll who sought to take her life. She leapt out of the way at the last moment with a slash to the inner thigh. The troll roared in pain, mixing with the cacophony of battle all around her. That loud eruption of sound was all it took for her to miss the sound of a stray arrow with her head as its destination.
What should have been some mercifully quick death was accompanied by sudden silence as all the dark beasts near her stepped back in fear. Even the troll tripped and fell in its desperate attempts to escape whatever was behind her. Dread grew in her belly as Galadriel, the lady of light, turned to face the only being capable of such perfect control over his forces.
There, holding an arrow only a foot from her head, was the Dark Lord himself.
Despite no need to hold onto the deception, Sauron still wore his guise of Halbrand, the lowly man. Galadriel could tell the difference now however. The Maia before her stood taller with eyes that held an eternity of knowledge and cruelty, so far beyond even her years as one of the Noldor. The rough edges that made him the man she fought side by side with had honed to an image she could only associate with the divinity of the Valar. How could he wear that face and yet still, be so distinctly different from her friend?
Sauron threw the arrow to the side as if he hadn’t even intended to intervene, but the rage and terror in his green eyes could not be denied. Perhaps there was some hope after all, If such a reaction was warranted over something as trivial as Galadriel’s death.
The crude edges of his armor made him appear even taller than he already was, the jagged spikes a warning to anyone that would dare to get close. And there, upon his gloved hand, sat a glowing golden band that she knew immediately as she gazed upon it. The One Ring.
Without thinking, she attempted to cut it from him, a desperate swing of her blade that he easily deflected. The cruel smirk on his face hid any emotions that had been beneath his mask before as Sauron faced off against Galadriel once more.
“Still charging at every obstacle like a colt in full gallop, I see,” he taunted, dodging a series of attacks as if it were mere child’s play.
Somewhere in the distant reaches of her mind, Galadriel recognized that the battle had begun once more, though she and Sauron were given a wide berth. Keeping up conversation would not put a pause on the siege, even as every blow she blocked from him rattled her very bones, demanding she bow to the power of the one ring.
Whatever desperation she felt must show on her face as Sauron became more and more gleeful with every advancing attack, forcing her on the defense.
“Cease…” she grunted, keeping a blow in mid air with her own sword, “… comparing me… to a horse!”
With a final push, she managed to quickly dodge away from the force of his swing, causing it to hit the ground harmlessly. Sauron was not deterred however. With an agility he should not be capable of in full armor, he kept up with her swift movements, never giving her a moment’s rest. There was no question of who would break first. But she may be able to use surprise to her advantage.
“Gil-Galad sending you like a lamb to slaughter, against a force you are no match for,” he tsked mockingly. “It seems you decided the path of honesty with your kin.”
Galadriel let out a small cry as the sharp end of his sword nicked her cheekbone when the muscles in her arms quivered. “You are the deceiver, not I, Sauron.”
His blows stopped for but a moment, giving the noldorian princess the illusion of an opening that would surely promise her death. She could see his quick mind working out whatever strategy might be devised to bring her, the one thing he wanted more than the rings, directly before him. They were fools if they believed he wasn’t going to catch on to their plans.
The momentary distraction was all she required. In a move so identical to the one she’d attempted by the Glanduin many years ago, she attempted to stab the dagger at her hip at his jugular. It was as fruitless now as it was then, but she held a different power now, one that would flip the scales.
The battering ram at the entrance to her mind gave way and in he came, with all the force of a raging river into her subconscious. The influence of Nenya allowed Galadriel the ability to manipulate the mindscape this time so Sauron could not hide behind the disguise of any other. He was forced to meet her as he was.
One last time.
The world inside of her mind was not some beautiful reprieve from the present moment, as it had been by the Glanduin. There was no memory of Finrod or Valinor, nor the moments they spent at sea together.
Instead, she chose a wasteland.
Drawing upon the horrific memories of the Southlands covered in ash, Galadriel imagined a world in which Sauron had won. A Middle Earth that burned like the fires of his forge, with all beauty and light lost to destruction.
The Sauron inside of her mind was stripped of his impressive armor, dressed as elegantly as he once had in the very city he laid siege to. The careful craftsmanship of the elves only served to further carve away the humanity of Halbrand until all that was left was a lesser god.
His intelligent gaze took in his surroundings for but a second, before zeroing back to his target. The very air around them both felt stale with death and decay, leaving the soft brown strands of his hair to hardly sway with his movements. She imagined him untouched by the destruction he’d wrought, and so he was, a being so perfect he could not possibly belong upon Middle Earth.
“You seem to have caught me by surprise, my lady,” his voice almost lyrical in the short distance between them. “Not an easy task, I grant you, but the power of your ring does even your odds a fair bit.”
Her anger responded first, clearly a common reaction to his presence. “I am not your lady, and I never have been.”
Sauron seemed unperturbed by her response, eyeing the way she’d chosen to present herself. Gone was all the armor and finery of her station, Galadriel stood in the very same clothing she’d worn when they had first met. The shift was fortunately not weighed down with dried sea water, nor did it cling to her form, but the sight would inspire memories of when it had.
“And this,” he said with a smirk, “is some attempt to seduce me, I assume?”
Galadriel scoffed at the very idea, even as the weight of him in her exhausted mind began to cause strain. “As I would ever debase myself in such a way. This is no attempt to ingratiate myself to you, Sauron.”
“Ah, then what are your intentions then, little one?” He taunted, stepping closer without fear of retaliation as they both stood weaponless. “Perhaps you were told to appeal to my better nature, some desperate plea to turn the Dark Lord back to the light of the One.”
Despite the discomfort of his nearness, she refused to be cowed and did not move back at his advance. “That would be a more foolish endeavor than even I should attempt, as much as you might mock me for my thoughtlessness.”
“So why then,” Sauron pressed, invading her personal space further until he towered above her form with ease. “Why let me in after all this time?”
Galadriel’s hands dug into her thin shift, trying to hide the tremble that had begun. False confidence would not move the creature that had served the most powerful beings in all of existence. But he would take any weakness from her as a ploy.
“I’ve come to make a deal.”
If Sauron was surprised by the turn of her words, he was much better at hiding the changes in his emotions than she was. Perhaps, only time could teach such a thing. He simply paused, considering his next moves like one sitting down at a game of chess. This was no easy exchange of minds.
“Of course you have,” he sneered, moving away from her to sit upon some leftover ruin as if mocking her very attempts at diplomacy. “I’d wondered if you’d learned anything from our time in Numenor. Let us see it then. So I may judge how attentive a student you are.”
Galadriel bristled at his behavior, but had long since learned to hold her tongue. After all, it had brought the being before her back to these lands through her foolhardy tactics.
“You once said you wished to save Middle Earth, to cleanse it of the stain Morgoth had left,” she began, her eyes moving from his bored expression to the desolate world around them. “You wage destruction indiscriminately, strike down whatever resistance arises, all in some mad grab for control that would leave our world a mere ghost of the beauty that had come before. How will this achieve your goals?”
Sauron sighed as if the conversation was one a parent had to explain to a child. “To create order and perfection, one must be willing to melt the old. It is a sacrifice I would not have to make if the Valar had more foresight, had not abandoned these lands to ruin.”
“How could you possibly purge the damage of Morgoth by becoming a shadow of his darkness?” Galadriel pressed, struggling to keep her rage from slipping into her tone. She shouldn’t have to plead with him, and yet, she was here, begging him to see reason.
His eyes snapped to hers suddenly. “I am nothing like Morgoth, little elf. And you would be wise to remember that.”
“Yet, your forces destroy what beauty remains in Middle Earth. The last remnants of Ilúvatar are trampled under the feet of orcs as women and children cry for mercy they will not receive. Is that not the very same war Morgoth waged?”
Sauron stood suddenly, clearly enraged by the association with his former master as his body tensed beneath the soft tunic. “If you wish to make fruitless attempts at distracting me from the rings, you will not succeed, Galadriel. I’ve humored this game long enough.”
“You could save it, you know? You alone have cared to stay among these lands, the Valar abandoned them as you said. Who else will intervene if you won’t?” She pushed desperately, hoping it would be enough to keep him in her mind a little longer. Appealing to his sense of duty, no matter how warped it had become, was a precarious path, but one she must take.
Sauron leaned in on her, once more dwarfing her small frame as he kept her gaze. “I could. As long as the Valar did not find a way to bring me back to Valinor, and eventually to the void, I could do exactly as you would have me do.”
The intensity of his gaze only confirmed her suspicions as her heart sank. He was unmoved by the destruction before him, just as he would be unmoved by Ost-in-Edhil falling if she failed.
“Yet, you will not,” she answered quietly, her voice cracking ever so slightly at the depth of the truth.
Sauron sighed once more, turned away from her to survey the land all around him. There was nothing to see except the rocks that had once been cities, craters that had once been lakes, and lumps in the distance that had once been beautiful mountains. He would raze it all in a heartbeat, whether out of a similar hatred for the creation of the Valar as it was with Morgoth, or out of a desire to start over once more.
“I could create something so incredible, so marvelous that even the Valar would be envious of from such a blank canvas, little elf,” he paused, turning back towards her with mischief in his eyes. “So convince me why I don’t want that.”
He moved another step closer until he was mere inches away from her, his breath cascading with warmth down her face. Galadriel could hardly believe her ears, the depth of her shock clearly showing on her features as he gleefully cataloged her reaction.
“Convince me to save Middle Earth. Your way .”
There was no denying the inherent rage that came sweeping through her being at the thought of begging such evil to do some good, but if it saved the people of Middle Earth from this future, could it be worth such a deference? Weighing her options would only further the siege towards those who needed to escape to safety, so Galadriel did what she knew best. She acted.
“Take me. You can have me at your side as you wanted, along with my ring. Give up this quest to dominate all life, and take that urge out on one who may carry such a burden.”
The slight intake of breath Sauron made could have been a sign of his astonishment, but there were none others to judge his response by. He simply took a few steps backward and looked down at her as if seeing the elf for the first time.
A slight sneer cracked his contemplation after a moment. “And why should I give up my quest for such a thing? As I see it, you will be mine whether or not you choose to join me. It’s an inevitability, Galadriel.”
“Would you have me weak and broken?” She snapped, her temper getting the best of her sincere control as the exhaustion of battle encroached on the discussion with every second that passed. “Would you lose the very light you sought to bind yourself to?”
“You refused that offer already, little one. We’ve already moved on,” Sauron brushed away her concerns. “You had the choice to join me willingly, but instead, you elected the way of destruction. You only have yourself to blame for this siege.”
She scoffed at such words. “Your plan for the rings was in action long before I confronted you at the Glanduin. The discovery was an inconvenient detour that would not have kept you from your mission.”
“Perhaps,” he answered with a shrug, clasping his hand behind his back in a contemplative manner. “If so, it would even further put you at a disadvantage in your efforts to convince me. Ost-in-Edhil won’t stand forever.”
She grasped for what memories she could from her time with Halbrand, as painful as those moments were to bring back to the forefront. His words in Numenor came echoing back through time as her gaze sharpened onto her target once more. Sauron stopped the arrow. It was in his terror at that very moment that her success would lie.
“I will keep fighting you, every step of the way,” she began, already anticipating how he would not mind her relentless pursuit. “I will put myself at the forefront of every battle, every skirmish to counteract your efforts even if it may be a hopeless endeavor. And you will not always be there to stop the arrow as you did this time. Should a stray blow hit its mark, I would be out of your reach, in the halls of Mandos forever.”
His hands clenched into fists if for just a moment at the future she painted. A small tell, but it only encouraged her to go further.
“I’d be among my kin once more. Finrod would greet me with open arms after so many years of fighting on his behalf. Perhaps I may even be reunited with Celeborn…”
Sauron turned with a snarl at that name, immediately advancing on her as the pretense spilled out of his features and the truth was laid bare. She simply tilted her head a hair, showing she was not afraid of his anger, just as he was not afraid of hers.
Galadriel waited until Sauron had gotten close once more and placed her hand on the front of his tunic. The heat of the Maiar seemed to unfurl through the fabric like touching a hot ember might. It seemed so odd that a creature of such cruelty could be capable of such warmth.
“Or…” she began once more, her eyes pleading in ways she could not bring herself to, “you may give up this plan, and we could spend the ages of this life outside of the influence of Valinor. We could create our own land, with the help of rings, make a life separated from those who would do us harm. You need my light to create beauty as you once had, and I need your power to find peace in these lands.”
Sauron stood silently for a moment, searching her gaze intently for any ill intent. Then, he gave a mirthless chuckle. “You would seek to lie in wait before cutting my throat, Galadriel. All the sea water in the world cannot quench your thirst.”
She gestured lazily to the world around her, desolate and empty. “My friend has an extraordinary gift for foresight. If I cannot think outside of my desire for revenge, I am in part responsible for this future you will create.”
“A marriage of convenience then?” He teased, even as the agitation of his body rose to greater heights. “How may the great Lady of Light use her servant, like a dog on a leash… for I am nothing more than a burden to keep from destruction!”
Frustration and exhaustion stung at her efforts until she could barely hold herself up any longer. Perhaps it was only another failed plea, one that would go on ignored as all the others had by the Maiar who had once been Marion. Then, a flash of memory, so quick it might have been a dream. She must try, even if it may be hopeless.
“There was a day when I served in Aulé’s halls along with my brothers that I had ventured into a space far away from the usual forges. I found a beautiful room, well organized and practical, with the most incredible creations strewn about as if they would never be worth pieces of craftsmanship. In the midst of it all was a being just as beautiful as many of the objects around him, but just as lost. I wished I could comfort him, help him find whatever it is that he’d been missing, and allow him to see the beauty in his creations.”
Her shoulder slumped with weariness. “I often went back to that room to silently watch the beautiful man. I was but a young elf when it started, but I very quickly found myself creating stories to explain his often sad and rageful expressions. I thought I could love him. But he’d left before I could find my courage.”
Sauron just peered down at her through the few strands of hair that framed his face, waiting for an end to the story. In a life where there were very few beings in Middle Earth that had lived as long as she, it was strange to be so near someone somehow older. She was reminded of her times in Yavanna’s gardens and the awe she’d experienced that made her reverent of the Valar. Perhaps reverence is the very thing to help him find himself once more.
With a heavy sigh, Galadriel kneeled before him, straining to meet his gaze through her lashes. “I don’t know if I will ever be able to forgive the atrocities you’ve committed. But I’ve already loved Mairon once. Perhaps we may start there.”
The ringing sound in her ears began in earnest once more, the images around them bleeding away into a haze as her control over her mindscape waned. Sauron slowly lowered himself until he was at her eye level, his hands reaching up to caress the sides of her face gently.
“Sleep, Galadriel,” he whispered softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. The world around her fell into darkness, yet the sensation of his body heat warming her did not fade with it.