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Galadriel stood in the clearing on the cliff above the sea, brushing her hand across the face of her brother’s memorial statue. She wrung her hands together as she resisted the urge to pace.
Since Morgoth had been thrown into the void, Lindon had become a safe haven. The past year, however, no longer, as legions of orcs had begun to descend on the free peoples of Middle Earth, rallied by him.
Galadriel looked back up at Finrod’s stone face. With any luck, that would happen no longer. If the gods had ever favored her, the terror would end today.
This is for you, dear brother.
A sudden, stabbing pain shot through her chest, in the spot where Sauron had stabbed her with Morgoth’s crown. She placed her hand over her heart and blinked back tears.
Behind her, she heard the voice of the person she had both hoped and dreaded to find. “I wasn’t sure I believed you’d be here.”
Galadriel held her breath and slowly turned around. He had come to her in his Halbrand form. She had suspected he would, but seeing his slightly wavy dark hair and soft green eyes staring at her tore her heart in two as it had when she had first learned he was Sauron.
“I’m here to broker peace,” she choked out. It wasn’t necessarily a lie, more of a deception. She knew enough about him to know that he wouldn’t notice.
“I am on the brink of absolute control over the kingdoms of Middle Earth. What do you think you can offer me?” he said, his eyes turning darker and sharper.
Galadriel turned Nenya around her finger for a second before reaching out and grabbing his arm. In a blink, they were in an illusion, identical to the one he had once woven for her long ago to convince her to join him. Beneath her feet, the raft rocked, and all around them, the ocean stretched out endlessly.
The pain returned to her chest, and she leaned over to relieve herself of it. He reached out and put his hands on her shoulders. “Galadriel,” he said.
She looked up at him. “Myself.” She straightened again, bringing herself to her full height and raising her chin slightly. “You once stood here and asked me to be your queen. I’m here to offer that to you.”
“I was weak and pathetic then. I wanted you to help me stay in the light. I no longer have need for that.”
“Don’t you?”
His gaze flickered to the side for a moment before he lowered his gaze to his hands. “There is nothing on Middle-Earth strong enough to bind me to the light now.”
She looked down and saw the plain gold band, the abomination he had crafted in the lava of Orodruin, sacrificing his very soul in exchange for power. And he was right; there was no turning back from that. A part of Galadriel had hoped that he would see that he would never heal Middle-Earth, not in the way he was doing it, and stop his folly. In truth, he had been lost to the darkness the moment he had destroyed Eregion, only now, he wore the proof on his hand.
Still, she said, “That is only true if you believe it.”
He cracked a half-smile, running his hand down her upper arm and back up again, letting his fingers touch her hair. “You would have a Dark Lord, after all this time?”
“I don’t want a Dark Lord. I want—Halbrand.” Galadriel stepped closer to him and reached up, tracing the scruff of his facial hair, before letting her fingers touch his neck.
In the vision, he didn’t see the collar Mithrandir had given her, the one meant to suppress the powers of a Maiar. The one now in her hands, snapping into place around him. The action jolted them back into the present.
Sauron’s hands shook slightly as he reached up to his neck. “What have you done?” he whispered.
“I’ve stopped you.”
He stood still for a moment before lunging towards her, his eyes nearly glowing with anger. Galadriel backed up swiftly and watched as he stumbled over his own feet, still trying to claw the collar from his neck with one hand. Twenty Númenorean soldiers descended upon the clearing, grabbing him and hauling him to his feet. “How dare you betray me, Galadriel!”
Galadriel bit back every angry retort she could have said. How dare you seek me out when you have murdered everyone and pillage everything I loved? How dare you touch me when you stabbed me? How dare you make me love you still? How dare, how dare, how dare…
Instead, she turned around and started to walk away.
“Don’t walk away from me, Galadriel! You betrayed me!”
Her resolve weakened when his rage turned into pleas of “Galadriel, please don’t leave, please…” But a part of her knew if she turned back now, she would seal the doom of the entire world.
Pharazôn stood at the edge of the clearing. As she neared, he said, “We no longer have need of your assistance. Go and tell your comrades Sauron will spend an eternity in exile in Númenor.”
Galadriel looked at him. “Don’t let him speak to any guard.”
He sneered. “We have no need for your advice, elf.”
A sense of foreboding crawled up Galadriel’s spine, even as the ache in her chest gradually subsided. She wondered if handing him over to the Númenoreans was the best choice. But it was the choice she had, and the choice she felt that maybe she could live with.
In the distance, she heard the waves crashing against the cliff, and for a moment, she thought she could hear one of the old mourning songs of Valinor, one she had nearly forgotten from when she was a child.