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It's been two years since the War of the Ring ended, and it's time for Galadriel to leave Middle-earth.
She's tried to postpone this moment, but it's time for her to find rest in Valinor. Elrond, Bilbo, and Mithrandir are already on their way to the Grey Havens, and they will meet along the way, along with the other Hobbits.
Galadriel makes the journey from Lothlórien to the Grey Havens alone. For now, she'll be the only one from her kingdom to go to Valinor, and she prefers it this way. She wants to say goodbye to Middle-earth alone. She's spent three Ages in these lands, and somehow, Middle-earth feels more like home than Valinor. She'll miss the rivers, the vast mountain ranges, the forests.
She's spent so much time fighting and toiling that the concept of rest seems strange. But she will see her daughter once more, and for that she rejoices.
But before she leaves, she decides to visit one place. Her last debt. Her last penance.
On the banks of the Glanduin, near where Eregion once stood proud, Galadriel plays her lyre, singing a melancholic song of seduction by a dangerous love, a beautiful trap that promises certain destruction. She dances, as she danced in Valinor, in Doriath, and in Lórien. She dances as she did not dance during the Second Age. Galadriel dances, playing the lyre and singing to no one, and it is a song so honest and powerful that she feels magic shimmering through her entire being.
When she finishes the song, Galadriel is slightly out of breath, magic lingering in the air. With her heart beating faster than she would've liked, she sits on the banks of the Glanduin and puts her lyre aside.
And for the first time in so long, she opens the door.
“Come to me.” She calls her worst enemy to see her again.
And he comes. It doesn't take long, and Sauron, the Abhorred, arrives. He's only a weak spirit now, stripped of any power he once had with the destruction of the One Ring, but he's there.
His form is almost indistinguishable at first. His image is shaky, and he has difficulty maintaining a steady visage. At first, he's the Dark Lord, terrible and terrifying to look at, but Galadriel doesn't look away. But his form gradually becomes less malevolent and more humanoid. She sees him in various forms, such as Annatar, Zigûr, and others she doesn't recognize. When he finally manages to maintain a steady appearance, Galadriel holds her breath, because he's once again Halbrand.
She knows Sauron is petty, and he did this to affect her, but a part of her is happy to see her old friend again. She's ashamed to admit it, but his handsome face is almost a welcome sight.
“Galadriel.” The Dark Lord says, and he pronounces her name slightly wrong, as Halbrand always did. “You finally opened the door, after an entire Age of hiding. Now I wonder why. Was it to celebrate your complete victory over me?”
“I am leaving Middle-earth,” Galadriel says, unwilling to fall for his dirty tricks, his obvious provocations. “My mission here is complete.”
“And you called me here just for this? Please.” Sauron says, and his appearance flickers for a moment, and for a moment he's pure fire, but he quickly returns to his appearance as Halbrand. “You came to say goodbye to me? No wonder your husband isn't here. Isn't he going to Valinor too?”
“Wash your filthy mouth before you speak of Celeborn,” Galadriel replies, through gritted teeth. “He still doesn't want to leave the place he grew up in.”
“Ah, then he really isn't going. I should congratulate you for holding on to a dead relationship for so long,” He says venomously. “Even though he was the one who left you.”
“You have a lot of nerve talking about my marriage. You ruined my marriage.” Galadriel accuses him, full of hurt and resentment.
“Should I take the blame for your actions? You were the one who wanted to sleep with me, Galadriel.” Sauron says, always deflecting the blame.
“When I still thought you were Halbrand.” Galadriel retorts, almost hissing.
“And later on, when you already knew who I was.” Sauron cuts her off, laughing cruelly. “I don't know who you're lying to. You always accuse me of lying, but you're the one who keeps lying to yourself.”
Every time she revisits the memories of the times she slept with him, Galadriel wishes the elven memories could dim. Because Halbrand's mere presence had filled her world with colors that existed only with him, but when their Fëa touched, it was something genuinely magical. Though his spirit was far deeper and full of darkness than a normal Man's, it was as if they were about to merge into something so beautiful, pleasurable, and powerful that nothing had ever compared to that feeling. She was so enamored with him that she actually considered breaking with elven tradition and taking him as a second husband. It's pathetic and laughable to remember it now, but that was why she slept with him. After all, if she was going to marry, there was no point in delaying the act. She had never understood Lúthien's love for Beren, which made her give up immortality for him, but in the days before she started to realize Halbrand wasn't who he seemed, Galadriel knew she would make the same choice as Lúthien if it ever came to it. How stupid she had been.
When Galadriel discovered he was Sauron, for a time, she believed Halbrand was indeed a true Man, and that he had been replaced by the Abhorrent during the explosion of Mount Doom. But eventually, she could no longer deny the truth. This was always him; she was just too blind to see that even someone she believed to be pure evil was also capable of good deeds and good intentions. The thought that when they were first in Númenor, he was actually fighting his own impulses to dominate and control in order to find peace is almost frightening. She was so blinded by hatred, and so captivated by the idea that the both of them would be unstoppable together, that the thought of simply… letting Halbrand find his peace never even occurred to her.
“Was any of that... real?” Galadriel finally musters the courage to ask. The question she'd always wanted to ask, but never had the chance. She'd always been afraid of what she'd do if he gave her the answer she'd always wanted to hear.
“I was as honest as I could be with you without you casting me out.” Sauron replies. Always with precise answers, so he never exposes himself too much. Galadriel is fed up with this. She just wants the truth, just once.
“Did you want all of me, or was I just something extremely convenient to possess? Be honest with me.” Galadriel asks, not wanting to leave room for any half-truths.
“Both.” He says, looking at her, mercilessness in his eyes. Well, she's merciless too. “You and I would be unbeatable together, and Middle-earth would be ours before the Valar even realized it. And I hoped your Light could... soften my worst instincts.”
“A rare moment of self-awareness.” Galadriel says dryly. Sauron has the audacity to laugh. “Did you really believe you wouldn't drag me into the darkness with you?”
“I believe you would fight to the end to avoid being corrupted.”
“Do you think I would want to fight you, millennia on end, serving as your leash?”
“You fought me for millennia on end, anyway. My most loyal jailer, and my best enemy.” Sauron says, donning Halbrand's face. This version of him isn't objectively the most beautiful face he's ever donned, but to Galadriel, there has never been a living creature as beautiful as this Man. He touches her face with his nonexistent body, and it's a sensation of icy fire touching Galadriel's skin, and at the same time she feels as if he were a mixture of something solid and gaseous. And she lets him touch her.
How she'd dreamed of this. Secret, shame-filled dreams, as she created her magnificent kingdom in her forest of Mallorns. Of seeing again the only person who saw her whole, and wanted her anyway.
“I've wanted you since the day I saw you on the Great Sea. I knew I wanted your Light for myself. And after knowing you, I discovered I wanted you completely.” Sauron continues, touching her hair.
“Did you want to possess me, or have me as someone you see as your equal, to command at your side?”
“Galadriel, I've told you. For me, it's the same thing. You would be mine alone, in mind and soul, and you would command at my side, and you would have all the power your heart desired. For me, loving and possessing are the same thing. And in return, you would have my complete devotion, and I would stop at nothing to give you whatever you wanted. Even though I knew that by tying myself completely to you, my Fana would become weaker. But we would've been stronger together.” He answers, and it is difficult for Galadriel to understand his version of love. But in fact, if there were a complete union between the two, Sauron's physical form would be more limited, and less powerful.
Yet even so, him stating so clearly what he wanted from her, and what he would be willing to give in return, has always been a temptation for her. These days, she's fully aware that if he hadn't killed Finrod, she would hardly have thought twice about accepting to be his queen when he first offered it to her. And it's terrifying to admit it. Just as it's terrifying to realize that if the One Ring had fallen into her hands in the Second Age, or even at the beginning of the Third Age, she, too, would have fallen into temptation. But she mustn't dwell on the paths not taken.
“I have passed the test.” Galadriel murmurs, partly to him, partly to herself.
“I know. I felt it when the Ring came near you.”
“I felt it calling to me. The power, the magic, the age of prosperity I could usher in.” Galadriel says, remembering how she felt when she saw the One Ring.
“The Ring was made from a fragment of my soul. Of course he would call for you.” At that moment, Galadriel sees more Halbrand than Sauron in him, and she moves closer to him. “It would have looked better on your finger than in the fires of Mount Doom.”
His touch is like a fire whirl on her left ring finger.
“You would have made a tyrant out of me.”
“I would have made you the most powerful creature in Middle-earth.” He says, and within moments, they are kissing.
Galadriel doesn't know who leaned in first, only that they are kissing. Sauron's body exists and doesn't exist simultaneously, and his lips burn, and Galadriel can't decide whether they burn from cold or heat. But she kisses him like a woman possessed, and he kisses her back with the same fervor. She knows to keep her allies close, and enemies even closer.
His form is inconsistent, fluctuating between a being of fire and humanoid. The scar on her chest stings, but it's a good pain. It's a kiss of millennia of longing, and Galadriel knows it will likely be their last. She kisses him in a way undignified for an Elf, but she's already so deep in her transgressions that it's irrelevant.
Finally, Galadriel pulls away from Sauron, not because she doesn't want to keep kissing him, but because she knows it will only make things more difficult than they already are.
“I have to go. My time in Middle-earth is over. I've already redeemed myself for my lust for power, and you've been defeated. I'll be able to see my daughter again.” Galadriel says, trying to console herself. A part of her doesn't want to leave, while another part of her yearns for the shores of Aman.
“Which you didn't even give me the opportunity to do. Celebrían left these shores without me ever having met her in person.” Sauron says bitterly. A part of Galadriel feels bad for never letting him meet his own daughter, but Galadriel would never allow him to corrupt Celebrían, no matter how cruel her decision was.
“She would still be here if it weren't for the attack by your disgusting Orcs.” Galadriel makes her own resentments clear, but what she says makes Sauron lose his composure, and soon he is a being of fire again.
“I am not responsible for all the actions of the abominable creatures Melkor created, especially not back then. I was weak, too weak.” He says, and for a moment it almost seems like he's lamenting, but with his form glowing with fire, it's hard to tell. “But I told you, everything they did was paid for in blood, a thousand times worse.”
“Good.” Is Galadriel's answer. The resentment she harbors over what happened will never be appeased.
The two fall silent, and little by little Sauron ceases to be a fiery figure and returns to his human form. Galadriel looks at Halbrand and remembers the first time she saw him, when she refused to return to Valinor for the second time. She thought it was the Valar themselves who sent him her way, to show her that the strife in Middle-earth was far from over. Nowadays, she thinks that perhaps meeting Halbrand really was the intervention of the Valar, of Ulmo, but not so she could continue fighting, but rather to help Sauron return to being Mairon, so he could free himself from the heavy chains Morgoth had forged around him. And she failed spectacularly, a victim of her own arrogance and her seemingly endless thirst for revenge and power. But perhaps it is not too late.
“I wish I had had the opportunity to meet my daughter. I have only visited her in dreams.” He says, and it is strange to hear this from someone like Sauron. It is strange to think that he cares.
“She's a gentle soul. And a better mother than I was.” Galadriel says. Although she loved her daughter fiercely, motherhood didn't come easily. The worry of having a child whose father is the Dark Lord, the fear that her daughter would take after her father, made Galadriel more paranoid than she should have been. Fortunately, Celeborn was more understanding and patient than Galadriel.
Celeborn returned to Galadriel's life when she was already mid-pregnancy, and it was a huge shock to discover that the husband she thought she would never see again while in Middle-earth had returned to her, alive. After the shock, came the shame, deep and intense. Galadriel had slept with another man and become pregnant, while her husband was alive and trying to return to her, and she was unaware. The mere act of her becoming involved with another person, even if believing herself a widow, had been deeply taboo in elven culture. With her husband alive, this had been a huge transgression, and yet another sin Galadriel would have to atone for.
However, Celeborn, in turn, accepted the situation gracefully. He understood that she assumed he was dead and wouldn't return for a long time, given that he had spent more time away from Galadriel than they had been together before he disappeared, and he agreed to raise Celebrían as his own. And he did a commendable job as a father, even though the relationship between him and Galadriel became more of a friendship than what their marriage had been previously.
However, as Celebrían grew older, it was impossible to avoid the question of who her biological father was; after all, she was different from an ordinary elf. The secret of Celebrían's true father couldn't be kept for long, but remained solely between Galadriel and Celebrían. Never spoken aloud, never discussed. But it was a severe blow to the mother-daughter relationship; Celebrían left home as soon as she could after discovering who her true father was, devastated by what had been kept from her. Celebrían hastened the courtship between her and Elrond, and soon married the Half-Elf and went to live in Rivendell.
“Fortunately, she doesn't take much after either you or me. Although she's good with words, almost frighteningly so, and has a pride worthy of the Noldor, for better or worse.” Galadriel says, and it was a relief to realize that her daughter was… Completely normal. With a normal temperament, without any particular inclination towards evil.
“And I will never see that.” Sauron states the fact simply.
“You can return to Valinor if you wish.” What Galadriel says is almost unthinkable, but it's entirely possible.
The suggestion clearly angers Sauron, because his appearance flickers again.
“For the Valar to throw me into the same prison as Morgoth? I don't think so.” Sauron says, all teeth and eternal fire. “All I did was to help Middle-earth become better than the Valar ever dared imagine, I wanted to bring prosperity to the land the Valar abandoned. And they, no, not just them, they all see me as a monster.”
It's hard not to see him as a monster, while his spirit burns as hot as a volcanic forge, barely suppressing his rage.
“Prosperity under tyranny is not progress.” Galadriel says firmly.
“I will not be trapped in the eternal void with Morgoth because I took the necessary steps to ensure that Middle-earth would flourish under my watch.” Sauron exclaims, distraught. And Galadriel knows today that he could have done great things for Middle-earth if he had not lost himself in the thirst for power. The quest for power to make Middle-earth a better place became a quest for power for its own sake, thus forgetting its original purpose.
“You, above all, know that it is over. The free peoples of Middle-earth did not want you.”
“The peoples of Middle-earth do not know what they want. That is why I should be the one to guide them.” Sauron says, but Galadriel can sense that even this creature of pride and arrogance has his doubts.
“You have the rest of eternity to think about that.” Galadriel says, finally standing up. She touches Halbrand's face one last time, and leaving to find the rest she deserves is harder than ever. “The Valar are more merciful than you dare to believe.”
She picks up her lyre and looks at Sauron one last time. Galadriel knows they are the worst for each other, but at the same time, he also allowed her to be herself, in a way she hasn't been with anyone else.
“Farewell.” Sauron says.
“Namárië.” Galadriel replies.
Galadriel leaves without looking back. She doesn't see whether he leaves or remains by the river. Despite his offer to return to Valinor, she has doubts if Sauron will do so. If he still has the capacity to repent.
The journey to Valinor is long, but the eternity ahead of her is even longer. Perhaps she should return to being an apprentice to Aulë, or spend some time in the Halls of Nienna.
But Galadriel doubts that the scars she endured in Middle-earth will ever be completely healed.