Chapter Text
This was the most reckless thing she had ever done.
Why in the Valar she had gone to Tol-In-Gaurthoth, by herself against the wishes of her Elder Brothers. Against every rational sense of thought. But no, here, she was hiding just beyond the view of the castle her Brother had built, now in ruin and taken by darkness. Alone with nothing but a few knives, a Bow and arrow, and that one good spell Yvanna had taught her.
Magic had not come easily to her in youth. Yavanna said she lacked patience in her years under the trees. How she missed that time. She wished she was anywhere else. But she was here to rescue her Brother and the mortal who had captured Luthein's heart.
Galadriel was preparing to strike a pair of guards to make her way into the castle when she heard yelling and fierce growls. She saw it then, her brother and the mortal running; they had escaped. With little time to react, she kills the two orc guards. And began running, firing swift arrows at the werewolf's legs.
“FINROD!!” Galadriel shouted. Her brother turned for a moment with pure shock. He stopped himself for but a moment.
“Sister, if it is truly you, make for the forest.” She nodded back to her brother. Firing arrows at any dark force in her path. She made it to the forest line just after her brother. They reunited for but a moment.
“Brother,” she said, hugging him tightly.
“Sister, what are you doing here?” Her brother had never looked worse, but his concern was only for her.
“Luthein was injured on our ride here, she is a few miles away with horses.” Finrod nobbed to her and went to check on Beren, who was deeply out of breath, tired as mortals often were.
“We will make it, friend.” He said, helping him to stand. Galadriel heard more growling.
“Drop,” she said quickly and quietly. Wolves were hunting them and a few orcs.
“What direction is Luthein?” Finrod whispered.
“SouthWest”
“Okay, Galadriel, give one of your daggers to Beren. We will break and head south. Galadriel head west.”
“Finrod, I have the spell Yavanna taught me, the shattered light orb.”
“I can’t... why would you…Can you fire it off without destroying us in the process?”
“I believe I can you two break off I will plant it and get away, FINROD!!”
One of the wolves had come up and jumped her brother, gnashing its teeth and biting his arm. Orcs came and began to attack Beren, who fought back swiftly as Galadriel loosed arrows into the wolf's side. Another wolf appeared, and Galadriel stepped back slowly, out of arrows, and cornered against a tree.
She had no other option; at least, that is what she would say for the rest of her time in Middle Earth. She looked at Brother as un pouched the Spell, whispering an I love you.
“GALADRIEL,” Finrod yelled as he just freed himself from the wolf. The shattered light orb tosses in the air. He jumped on his sister, covering her from the burning Glow.
There was nothing but bright, burning light.
What a Mess. What chaos.
Sauron walked through the disheveled mess of the forest surrounding Tol-In-Gaurthoth. This had certainly been an interesting few weeks, with the Human and High Elf finally attempting an escape. And then the She-Elf had appeared, giving her dear brother away.
Finrod Felagund had been here all this time. Explained much of his bravery and his protection of the mortal, who was, in fact, the Beren. Who had made the Lovely Luthein desire Mortality.
But the She-elf. He had spotted her the moment she entered his domain. A bright light alone in the darkness.
The carnage she had unleashed in a matter of minutes was rather impressive. Some of his wolves survived the blast and surrounded her and what was left of her brother.
He moved past them, bidding them to stand down and return to the castle. They would be needed elsewhere soon.
Finrod Felagund was no more now. Dead and Charred a few feet from his sister's body. Who, by some miracle of the Valar, was still alive.
Asleep and with a few cuts on her face and burns on her arms, he observed her. Then knelt down beside her. Glimpsing into the unseen, he could see her spirit, bright and whole.
“Such Bright spirit; you are Galadriel of the Noldor.” He then looked deeply at her hair, picking up a strand between his fingers.
“I never believe a rumor about a being until I see them, but I have seen the Silmarils. And you are truly their muse. The One never made such a beautiful thing as you.”
He began to swipe her tattered hair off her face, and then he did something he had never done for any other elf. He began to heal her cuts, fixing that which had been harmed.
He smiled at the completion of his work, she was perfect once again. But it would not last. He wonders if she would blame herself for her brother's death or blame Morgoth or even himself.
Then his twisted mind began to spin, He had always loved Power and Beauty. In her, he found both. It is an untapped power, but power nonetheless. What fun he would have with her. He found not far from her the knife that her brother had carried. Finest silver and Gold of Valinor. The wheels kept spinning in his mind.
“ I suppose if you were this much trouble for your Brother, what will the future hold for you? You and I will get to know each other very well in the centuries to come, Galadriel.” He took the knife in his hand and slashed his palm. Uttering ancient words in Black speech. He dropped a single drop of blood into her mouth. She began to wake from her slumber. He shushed her back to sleep.
“Sleep a few more minutes, my dear. Your friend Luthien approaches. You will be home soon enough. I will visit you soon. Till then, I will be keeping an eye on you.” He eyed her hair again, restraining himself from taking a strain and swiftly leaving his new prize to be found by Luthien. He had work to do elsewhere, but she would sure be a fascinating distraction from time to time.
Just as Sauron returned to the Castle, he heard the screams and felt the shattering heart of Galadriel.