Chapter Text
You appeared out of nowhere, from the mist like a sea sprite, all golden and white, a star dropped from the heavens. I should have left you, let the wyrm have you but something akin to an itch stopped me so I pulled you from the ocean, all wet and tangled limbs and matted hair. I should have saved the water for myself but I didn't and let you drain the water skin dry. I watched as your pale slender neck gulped at the water, slacking your thirst, your golden hair wet and clinging to your face. You don't trust me and I don't blame you, but I can't trust you either.
What must I look like to you, a half drowned sea rat who abandons his companions without a thought. You think you have me all figured out, I can see it in your eyes. It makes me want to laugh for the first time in an age. Your name is Galadriel, I know who and what you are. I repeat it over and over in my mind, a prayer or a curse I cannot yet tell. I want to say it out loud, feel and hear it on my tongue. I should end it now but a strange reluctance takes hold. Instead I watch you when your back is turned on me, that tall strong silhouette showing beneath that white gown, wet and clinging.
It's hard to stay calm and unaffected when my insides are burning, a cold fire, flames of blue and orange, liquid sun.
"You needn't keep your distance," I say.
Why am I trying to reassure you?
"I am simply wondering what manner of man will so readily abandon his companions to death."
There it is, your delightfully prim tones vocalising the judgement that I'd already seen etched in your eyes.
"The sort that knows how to survive. Why be part of a larger target?"
"You are a target still."
Yes, yes I am aren't I?
"I doubt we shall make safety until we make land," you state, knotting the rope around your hands.
Already you are taking charge, a leader, I can see that.
"I expect finding safety won't be that easy," I reply, smirking. "At least not for you."
That gives you pause, so easy to read. I can play you like a fiddle it seems, if I choose to. I can't help but prod further.
"Separated from your ship...really? You're a deserter aren't you?"
I see a flash of anger in your blue eyes and I like it, I like it alot.
"Do I have the look of a deserter?" you snap.
"You don't have the look of someone to whom things happen by accident. Which means you are running. Whether towards or from something I haven't yet decided."
You should run from here my little she elf, go back home to your sanctimonious people while you still can.
"Duty demanded I return to Middle Earth."
You still can't look at me, instead staring out at the grey horizon as though it will make land appear quicker.
"That is all you need to know."
"You keep your secrets and I'll keep mine."
"Important elf business no doubt."
That's the one that pushes you over the edge as you whirl around at me, a hint of fury lying beneath that controlled exterior. There we go, my whole body thrums at the sight, a vengeful sea goddess. I have an irrational desire to unlock more.
"What have elves done to you?" She practically hisses. "Do you blame us for your being stranded here?"
"The way I see it, it wasn't elves that chased me from my homeland."
You turn your back again.
"It was orcs."
That draws your attention back, your already fair skin growing paler. I can't help but like it, having a modicum of power over you, that someone so sure of themselves can still get so rattled.
"You're home, where was it?" Your voice has lowered , soft, yet not a whisper.
"What's it matter, it's ashes now."
That is no lie, my real home will never be mine again and I do blame the elves for stranding me here. I should make you pay . I stare instead.
"I know something of the pain you carry, I grieve for you."
Your voice is so soft, so genuine, it takes me by surprise.
"For those you lost."
I say nothing, all I can do is look, wishing I could do what I need to.
"Around your neck, is that the mark of your people's king?"
Shame, anger and guilt flares up inside of me, a cancerous growth eating away at me everyday.
"My people have no King," I mutter.
They haven't for a long time, what if they never do again?
"But if they did, where might that kingdom be found?"
You're like a hungry wolf with a carcass, not letting it drop. I've not seen anyone else with such a single minded purpose for a long time, except maybe myself. Is that still true?
"To what end?"
"What if I told you we might be able to reclaim it."
As if you're trying to lure me in? I scoff openly.
"I'm afraid you're short an army."
"Leave the army to me, why are you dodging the question?"
"Why are you stranded at sea?"
Hypocrite.
"Because rather than rest in glory I chose to seek out the very enemy responsible for your suffering."
You're ambitious, I'll give you that, fearless, by the dark shadows I admire you. I want... Frustrated, I stand and approach, my face is so close to you yet you don't flinch. I can smell you, the forest after the rain mixed with sweat and salt. I cannot help but wonder what you taste like.
"Look elf, you didn't cause my suffering, you can't fix it. No matter how strong your will."
No matter how much I want you to, I stave my hands by my side, resisting the urge to touch you. I need to release this energy that itches beneath this weather beaten mortal skin.
"Or your pride, so let it lie."
You're actually smirking at me now, I can see the fires of Anor in those eyes.
"I have pursued this foe since before the first sunrise bloodied the sky " she hissed. "It would take longer than your lifetime to speak the names of those they've taken from me. So letting it lie isn't an option."
I begin to crave that anger, that passion you clearly possess that bubbles so closely to the surface. I know you are capable of much much more, beautiful and terrible as the sea.
You start adjusting ropes to look busy, to distract yourself.
"At last, a little honesty. If you want to murder orcs and settle the score thats your affair, but dont dress it up as heroism."
That one stung, you whirl around again. It's so easy, you're so quick to temper. It's delicious.
"Are you going to tell me where the enemy is or not?"
"The Southlands," I answer simply.
That gives you pause, you were so ready to fight me, I feel that you wanted to.
"I need to know how many the enemy were and under whose banner they march."
There's that wolf again.
"And you are going to take me to their last known location."
"I've got my own plans."
I sit down again, weighing up my options, that crystal blue gaze on me when a crack of thunder rang out loud and clear and lightning tore across the sky. The horizon is an angry mix of black and grey, the wind increasing. You look at me again.
"Prepare yourself."
The way you look at me, it's a challenge and a warning. Do you feel fear yet my Lady? Does the churning sky frighten you, make your blood run cold? It should.
"I'm always prepared. I told you, I'm a survivor."
You scowl at me and begin to tighten the ropes. We prepare the best we can but we both know it's near impossible as the waves are soon washing over us, tossing and turning, throwing our small refuge about. We are lost in a maelstrom of black, grey and inky blue. I can feel Ulmo churning the water, or maybe it's Manwe sending his winds to drown me.
Waves crash against us, pummeling us relentlessly. I've been in many battles, but this one is of a different kind. The wood creaks and groans, bending and swelling unnaturally.
"We're coming apart."
"The winds are too strong."
Damn you Manwe.
"Grab the rope."
You do as I say but I'm too much in threat of my life to enjoy the small moments of your biddability. The biggest wave yet throws us up, I can barely see, the salt water blurring my vision. You have become a white phantom next to me. Part of me thinks you're not here at all. I could drag us both to the bottom of the ocean now and end both of our miseries, but where would the fun in that be.
We are barely holding on and my hands are raw from the sodden rope. My stinging eyes make you out tying yourself to the upright beam. Your strength and tenacity is almost as bold as the storm itself.
"Come, give me your hand," you cry at me, reaching out.
Ever the hero aren't you? I don't reach for you though my whole soul, what's left of it, screams at me to take it.
"Bind yourself to me."
You are so desperate to help me despite your earlier disdain.
"Come give me your hand."
Your arm stretches even further and as I am about to take it, a bolt of lightning splits the sky and strikes at the very beam you ate lashed to. As though the Valar themselves want to stop you, stop us, our union of survival. You are catapulted into the dark waves and disappear below.
Just like that you are gone, gone to where I should leave you, let the fish eat your pale corpse. It would make things much easier for me. Would your spirit rest or would it roam, ever searching for your quarry, not realising how close you were. Would you be trapped in a hell of your own making? I've had my own to contend with.
Yet an idea takes hold, niggling at the back of my mind, a disease I readily accept. I stare at the rope you're attached to disappearing inch by inch into the ocean, making a decision I know will change everything. I dive into the icy waves, darkness enveloping me, using the rope as a guide. I descend down to you. The underworld hasn't taken you yet, I'm going to bring you back, defy what should be.
Despite the darkness I can see you, luminescent in the black waters. As I reach you, I take pause. You look dead already, peaceful, at rest. Not yet elf, not yet. The rope is knotted around you and swollen from the water, bound, a prisoner of the ocean. Using your own dagger I cut you free and drag you upwards with me. We break the surface, both gasping for breath. Fighting our way to the raft, you pull yourself up first, your strength is a thing of beauty, and reach for me again, pulling me on to the raft. Take that Manwe, you'll not rid of me that easily. I want to laugh at the sky but settle for collapsing onto the raft.
I vaguely remember grabbing your arm and holding on, whether to steady myself or you, I don't really know. We cling like that, drifting on a raging tide, riding out the storm, to whatever end. I grow weary and everything fades.
My dreams are different as I drift through an exhausted sleep. I know that they are dreams because I feel as if I have not for years. Beautiful bright light surrounds me, full of silver and gold. I feel warmth along the length of my face and as I open my eyes I see the sunrise in the distance and you lying next to me. Your damp, torn gown, clinging to the curves of your body, I want to run my hand down them, but you're not ready for that, yet. While you sleep the fight and anger has left your face. What can I do to awaken it, I want to see that fire, to taste it. Your murmur softly in your sleep, making me smile. I close my eyes again, still exhausted as the nkw calm waves lap gently against our meagre vessel. Something is crystal clear to me, I will get what I want and maybe more.