25Chapter 1: The Edge of a Knife
"You knew that our past meant nothing weighed against our future."
"There is no such future," Galadriel spat.
Halbrand's face was gentle as he watched her. "Isn't there?"
No sound could be heard other than the gentle slap of the ocean against the planks of their raft. Galadriel tore her gaze from him and looked out over the sea. Shadows danced over the water, forming images in rapid succession. She saw herself as a queen of the peoples of Middle Earth, a star bound upon her hand. Beside her was her companion, no longer the ragged castaway but a lord among men, just as he had looked riding into battle against the Uruk. The image shifted to a great host of elves, taking their first steps since the war on the shores of Valinor. Those who had been born on the soil of Middle Earth looked upon the homeland of their people with joy. Finally, she saw the peoples of Númenóre and the Southlands, working together to build a great new city of white upon the banks of the Anduin. The city was fair as Númenóre itself and brought together the wisest and best men from across Middle Earth.
Halbrand's soft voice reached Galadriel through the vision. "All others look on you with doubt. I alone can see your greatness." Slowly, he stroked her cheek and turned her face from the enigmatic waters. "I alone can see your light."
Galadriel fought to keep her composure as the vision of her people freed from their long exile flashed again before her eyes. "You would make me a tyrant."
Halbrand smiled gently. "I would make you a queen. Fair as the sea and the sun and the snow upon the mountain. Stronger than the foundations of the earth."
"And you? My king? The Dark Lord?" Galadriel spat the last words.
"No, not dark. Not with you at my side." Halbrand moved his hand and lightly grasped hers. "You told me once we were brought together for a purpose. This is it. You bind me to the light, and I bind you to power. Together we can save this Middle Earth."
Galadriel took a step forward, looking intently into his eyes. "Save or rule?"
"You asked me to become king and to rule the men of the Southlands. All I wanted was a life of peace and a forge of my own, far from the shadows of my past." Halbrand looked away from her, out over the sea as if it showed him too visions of the distant futures. "I believe we'd have to rule, at least for a time, in order to save Middle Earth. But." He turned back to her sharply, his eyes glowing with some inner fire. "I would not ask that we rule forever. 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."
"You still wish to rule over them. How is that different than your master, Morgoth?"
Halbrand frowned. "He is not my master. I am free of him and will not go back. Nay, I promised—we promised the people of the Southlands a king. Now that they've been ripped from their home and kin, would you have me break that promise?"
The two stood in silence a while. Galadriel considered his words, pushing back her instinct to attack. This man was her friend, but he had been her enemy for so long before that. Could she trust him?
"Why did you save me?"
Halbrand looked at her, brow furrowed. "What?"
Galadriel turned to face him. "Why did you save me from drowning? You knew who it was I was hunting, I assume."
He laughed drily. "I knew you were hunting the servants of Morgoth if that is what you mean. I recognized the rage in you. I had felt it at one time, though by the time we met I had long since given up any thought of vengeance or even justice upon those who had wronged me. I was seeking only escape from this vile land. I saved you because you still believed in victory. Even though I didn't believe I could be a part of it, I wanted you to come back to Middle Earth and continue the fight."
"Even if I would have included you in my hunt?"
"Even then. I didn't deserve your pity or your forgiveness. I still don't. But you offered them anyway. I only ask that you don't withhold them now based on a name I never claimed."
Galadriel stared out over the sea watching the waves and considering their every past interaction. "Alright."
Halbrand started. "Alright?"
"You claim that you are not as you were and only wish to fulfil your promises. I will not tell anyone who you are. But I will watch you. If you betray us, I will destroy you."
Halbrand stood, seeming to stare through her. Finally, he nodded. "I can accept that for now. Someday, I hope you will consent to be my queen. I don't believe I can lead the Southlanders as well as they deserve alone."
Galadriel gasped as she felt a spinning sensation. She shut her eyes tightly against the vertigo before opening them to see the familiar lakeshore where they'd stood when the conversation began. Halbrand stood before her, looking somehow older than he had. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but seemingly thought better of it and turned away.
"I won't betray your trust," he said quietly as he walked back up the path toward his rooms.
"See that you don't." Galadriel murmured, her eyes fixed on his departing form. Once he was out of sight, she turned her steps back toward the workshop.
Celebrimbor scarcely looked up before he began speaking. "Good, you've returned. I don't know if Halbrand found you, but we must make two. So much power cannot reside in a single object."
"No, three. We must make three."
Celebrimbor stopped his fiddling and Elrond crossed over from the window. "Three?" the latter asked. "Why three?"
Galadriel looked from one to the other. "One will always corrupt. Two will divide. But with three, there will be balance."
Celebrimbor nodded slowly. "So, we shall make three. However, Galadriel, I have determined that the purity of the lesser ores in the alloy is crucial. I need gold and silver of the most exquisite quality. I need gold and silver from Valinor."
Galadriel felt her breath catch as her hand drifted unconsciously to the knife at her side. The air felt too thin, as if she had been transported to the top of the great Misty Mountains to the east.
"True creation requires sacrifice," he continued, watching Galadriel closely.
With a great effort of will, Galadriel unclasped the knife and held it up, studying again its familiar lines and curves. She couldn't stop her memory from drifting to the first time she'd held it, taking it up from her brother's motionless form as she vowed to fight the evil that had overcome him. An evil that she was now aiding.
Tears stung her eyes as she handed the blade to Celebrimbor. She watched in a fog as the knife was lowered into the forge and melted down. Although she was aware of Elrond standing beside her in an offer of strength, she did not turn toward him.
"Ah, Halbrand, I thought you were going to miss our work here, even after everything you've done to assist us."
Galadriel was shaken from her musings at the sound of Celebrimbor's words and her eyes immediately fixed upon her foe. He was watching her closely, a look resembling pity on his face.
"Please leave us." Her voice was quiet but unwavering. Elrond and Celebrimbor both looked at her in surprise. "We appreciate your inputs, but due to the delicacy of this project, I must insist on it being completed by the elves alone from this point."
He hesitated. "Galadriel—"
"Please, Halbrand."
The fire crackling was the only sound as Halbrand gazed at her. Finally, he nodded. "Of course. Elrond, Celebrimbor, please send word if you require my assistance. I hope for your success." He looked at her for a moment longer before leaving.
"Galadriel, what happened?"
She met Elrond's gaze levelly. "You once spoke of a mistake, one you would not make again."
Elrond grimaced. "You make it very difficult to trust you."
Galadriel smiled wryly. "If it were easy, it would not require trust. But come now, our time is short and there is yet much to do."
The molten metal was removed from the furnace and combined with the mithril before being carefully poured into three molds. Once cooled, the bands of the rings were shaped and polished and set with the gems of Fëanor. Finally, after many hours of toil, they were completed.
"So, it is done," Celebrimbor sighed.
Elrond nodded and left to send a message to the high king, informing him that their task had been completed. Meanwhile, Galadriel and Celebrimbor inspected the completed rings. The first ring was set with a ruby, red as a rose and burning with an unquenchable flame. Celebrimbor called it Narya after that flame. The second ring was set with a sapphire of exquisite blue, the color of the heavens after a winter storm has fled the skies. It was called Vilya, the Ring of the Air. Finally, she looked upon the final ring, adorned with an adamant clearer than starlight. She had seen this ring before, adorning her own hand. A longing rose in her, mingled with fear. Even before Celebrimbor pronounced its name, she fled.
AN: I have always loved the Lord of the Rings. I grew up on it, having listened to my father read it to me as a small child. It was part of my original introduction to the fantasy genre. However, I will admit that after two decades, I still have never read the Silmarillion cover to cover. When the Rings of Power debuted, I was excited for a glimpse into this history of Middle Earth, to understand the foundations of the story I had loved so long. I realized quickly that the show was not the book. The Silmarillion is a history of Middle Earth, describing the events of prior ages and especially those that led to the end of the Third Age, with which Tolkien's other works are concerned. The Rings of Power is meant to be narrative, showing a potential version of the story behind in the history. In many ways, it's historical fiction, focused on the history of Middle Earth.
Tolkien, for many reasons, wrote his stories with clear divisions between light and dark, good and evil. Sauron swore himself to Morgoth and would forever be on the wrong side of history. Although Tolkien mentions rumors that Sauron "in truth repented" and "abjured all his evil deeds," he states that the bonds of Morgoth were too strong, and Sauron fell back into evil almost immediately. The Rings of Power does not show this. Instead, it shows a broken man seeking to live out his life in anonymity until he befriends the Lady Galadriel (who is not mentioned in the Silmarillion's account of the forging of the three except as the bearer of Nenya). Suddenly, the conclusion is not foregone. There was a moment of choice. The history of Middle Earth stood on the edge of a knife. The Rings of Power was destined to follow the arc of Tolkien's history, but what if it hadn't. That is the story I am writing.
This is an AU. From the moment Galadriel chooses not to renounce Halbrand, everything we know about the further history of Middle Earth is called into doubt. Some events may occur anyway. Many will not. I am largely drawing on The Rings of Power in my account of the events of the Third Age, particularly where it conflicts with Tolkien's own telling. The characters are also drawn from the show, rather than their histories.
I do not yet know where this diverging path will lead Galadriel and Halbrand. I have some suspicions, but I must follow the road to see its end. I hope you enjoy walking it with me.
I have not finished the story, but I do have a couple of chapters already written. I do not have a publishing schedule, but I'll do my best to keep writing reasonably often and publish as I go.