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Once again sleep eluded Galadriel, it rested right in front of her but always slipped further away from her grasp the moment she reached for it. Her thoughts were consumed with one man, a man that wasn’t really a man at all but still she could not help and think of him as such in her thoughts. She couldn’t stop as she pictured his face, heard his voice, and felt his touch. It was because of this she couldn’t sleep. Shame and anger clung to her heart because of the recent revelations.
The anger was merely carried over from the feelings she already had for Sauron. The shame however came from Halbrand only. Everytime she remembered how easy thoughts of crossing the invisible threshold and kissing him had crossed her mind. How she would daydream of running her hands over his, feeling all the callouses and scars that he was likely to have. He had always been so close to her side, neither of them wanting to find their own personal space, instead they lived in each others for those last few weeks. She knew of his evil doings and dark desires and yet, she couldn’t help but still feel a… fondness for him. Fondness would be the only word she would permit herself to use. Even if she knew that was a weak word to describe her feelings for the man known as Halbrand.
She would never allow herself to think of him the way that he had been before, as Halbrand. A man she had felt a pull towards, a man that made her feel as though they were alone together even when surrounded. In their time together she could help but let herself grow closer towards the human man he was. Letting her hands become more familiar with his own when they came to agreements or the other needed to be pulled to their feet. Even more so the memory when her hands would linger too long and too lightly. When she would imagine how easy it would have been to let her hands drift to other places. The desire to brush her hand through his hair or caress his perpetually bruised face. She became too familiar, she knew this even then but now it ashamed her. It had been acceptable for her when he was just a man, a man she thought she could feel comfort with, companionship.
No, she wouldn’t let herself think of him anymore. Not of Halbrand. A man who might as well have really died in the Southlands. A man that she would have been able to actually mourn if he had truly died, without the guilt that plagued her whenever she wished that she could reach out and hold his hand.
So instead she thought of Sauron. A being who had been complicit in the deaths of so many of her kin. Someone who had deceived her, letting her to believe for weeks that they were allies. He had looked at her with a type of desire, whether that had been for friendship or something more intimate wasn’t Letting her believe that maybe he was actually someone she could come to care for. That she was someone he cared for, instead it was all lies.
Even in this moment he was probably working towards the downfall for not only her people and allies, but Galadriel herself.
And like most nights whenever Galadriel couldn’t help but let her thoughts wander to Sauron her chest was filled with a growing white hot rage. Her heart raced in her chest and her fingers clenched down into her sheets. She almost threw herself onto her feet with the swiftness of her movements.
She fled from the room, grabbing a shawl to protect herself from the late night chill that was creeping into the air. She couldn’t spend another moment in that room, her history replaying in her mind. All of the what ifs and if onlys alienate her to the room and comfort of the bed.
The only place she can find any solace is underneath the sky, the moonlight shining down on her, bathing her in its cool light. She wanders into the gardens, hoping to maybe find the connection to the earth that had always come so easy to her before. Her fingers brushing lightly against leaves and petals of beautiful and delicate flowers. The velvety texture of the petals was soft against her fingertips, but the leaves were slightly rougher. The difference between the petals and leaves reminded her of the way her hands would feel against Halbrands. As she was an elf her hands remained smooth as if she hadn’t spent centuries as a warrior, but his were the hands of a mortal man. At least she had thought he was.
“Even in this place I cannot escape thoughts of him!” she let out a frustrated huff, a sound she wasn’t sure she had made in a thousand years.
“Galadriel? What are you doing in the gardens at such a late hour?” One of her oldest friends' voices came from behind her. Thinking too deeply of Sauron and his lies had caused her to become oblivious to her surroundings.
The surprise of his voice and his presence caused a shock to go through her body, however it was imperceivable to the other elf and she remained in his eyes a vision of grace.
Galadriel’s first instinct was to avoid his question, not wanting to discuss one of her greatest shames with such a beloved friend. Although her words were caught in her throat. She knew what she wanted to say but what instead came out was what she needed to say.
She turned away from Elrond, not particularly wanting to see judgement cross his face. “I cannot sleep. My guilt and shame keep me awake.”
Galadriel could hear him walking closer to her, almost within arms reach “Why do you feel such things?” his voice was bewildered, as if he couldn’t possibly understand what could make her feel such a thing.
“Because I was deceived and my foolishness has killed many and countless more to come.” she almost spat her words out, almost as if she were angry that he even had to ask.
He sighed, not out of disappointment but more sadness, an empathic sound he couldn’t help. “Galadriel… you cannot possibly-” his voice was almost a whisper as he reached his hand out to rest on her shoulder when she quickly moved away from his touch.
“ He was right here! He was right here and he fooled me!” she moved out of his reach and twirled around to face him, now too angry to care if she saw his disappointment. “He made me believe that he was a man, that he was my friend, that he care-” Galadriel stopped herself, not wanting to say out loud the most intimate transgression of Sauron.
She turned away from Elrond. The wide open space around them was silent save for the sounds of nature and wind. Feeling defeated Galadriel let her legs give out to sit on the stone rim of a pond. Both of her hands were resting against the stone on either side of her thighs.
Hating that her words betrayed her secret pain to Elrond she kept her mouth firmly shut. A moment or two passed before Elrond moved to sit next to Galadriel. As she started to feel tears building up in her eyes she looked to her feet, the change in gravity forced her tears to fall freely. Whether they were the result of her sadness or embarrassment, she wasn’t sure.
Elrond’s hand came to rest on top of Galadriel’s own, his thumb caressing her hand in an attempt to soothe his friend. It worked.
“He is a deceiver , Galadriel. This is what he does.” She could tell Elrond’s words were carefully picked by the time he took between each word. Still this did not convince her, she knew Elrond’s words to be true but she still felt a fool. A stupid she-elf who was outfoxed by a handsome face.
“Every soul that he destroys in the coming days is my doing. I spent weeks with him. I should have killed him!”
“Do you honestly think he would have been so easily killed?” his voice and face filled with incredulity.
She remembered their encounter by the stream, her brother’s knife clutched in her hand, ready to plunge deep into Sauron’s flesh. She had meant it, she wanted to kill him and she still did. Even if the very act would create a darkness in her heart. But he had stopped her, while her blade had been close to his flesh, she might as well have been holding a flower. He had stopped her strike with complete ease just as he entered her mind. There had been nothing to stop him from completely overpowering her.
The doubt of her ability to kill him must have shown on her face as Elrond simply stated “I had thought as much” his voice a whisper.
Silence enveloped them once again. Moments passed into minutes and Galadriel wanted only to return to her bed. She pulled her hand from Elrond’s soothing touch and rose from her seat. “I will see you tomorrow, Elrond.”
She was almost out of the garden and away from Elrond when he suddenly said “It is strange.”
Galadriel turned to him, waiting for him to elaborate his words.
“He could have killed you.” Their eyes met, Galadriel didn’t feel as if she could turn away. She had wanted to believe it meant something. Sauron’s inaction when he realised she had discovered him.
“He could have taken your own dagger and plunged it into your heart,” for such cruel words Elrond’s voice was soft “I just think that it is… curious that he left you alive.”
Galadriel tore her gaze away from Elrond and turned away to return to her room, “I suppose it is.”