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Galadriel stared on in horror how Adar’s own orcs viciously stabbed the father of Uruks over and over again while she could feel his life slowly slipping away, helpless to protect himself from the sudden onslaught from his own people. She should have cherished the moment that her enemy was struck down but she could only feel pity for the Uruk who had only recently threatened to end her life. She should have hated him for attacking Ost-in-Edhil and the countless of Southlanders murdered by his hand but deep sorrow replaced her anger.
Soft steps from behind startled her out of her reverie. Before she could turn around to see who had approached her so calmly, she could see a figure cloaked in a dark tunic from the corner of her eyes. It was an Elf, with long blond hair not too dissimilar from her own locks but the face was unmistakable. Sauron just passed her by non-nonchalantly as if their current situation was the most normal thing in the world. Her eyes grew large and an audible gasp left her mouth at the sight of the man she once trusted with her life.
“Galadriel…” He spoke softly, almost lovingly, before moving to crouch before the dying Uruk. The orcs who had just brutally attacked their former leader bowed politely and stepped back to allow Sauron access to the dying Uruk on the ground.
She could hardly believe her eyes. There he was right in front of her and he had somehow managed to convince Adar’s forces to turn against him. She had pleaded with Adar not to attack the city, told him that the Deceiver would be expecting him but Adar stubbornly refused to believe her and laid siege nonetheless in the false hope that he could slaughter the Maiar once more.
“This was your design from the beginning.” She spoke to him her voice a poison for all those who could hear it.
“Please, you think too much of me. The road goes ever winding, not even I can see all its paths.” Sauron spoke before turning his head back towards the Uruk who had by now breathed his last breath. The Deceiver briefly closed his eyes relishing the death of the Uruk he once viewed as his right-hand man before he was betrayed. Now that the father of Uruks experienced a fate similar to his own, he felt satisfied and couldn’t help but smirk at the lifeless corpse.
Galadriel felt her fury flare up like a tempest. Her eyes fell on the abandoned sword lying in the grass close by. Another second passed before she rushed over to the blade and picked it up. She almost thought that she could do it, that she could skewer the Deceiver right here and now before he had the time to respond. But right before her blade made contact with his flesh, he quickly spun around and caught her blow with Morgoth’s crown.
His eyes fell on the ring on her finger, frighteningly visible while she wielded her blade.
“It is even more beautiful than Celebrimbor led me to believe.” He whispered while his eyes moved from the gem on her finger to her face. The intense stare made her feel uncomfortable, especially as she knew that look so well. She had seen that look before after the battle in the Southlands while they sat secluded on a fallen log. It had been one of the rare moments when Galadriel spoke from her heart and she saw him stare at her, a look of longing and understanding.
Galadriel shook her head and dislodged her sword from the crown and spun it around to strike again feeling a new deep surge of loathing though she did not know whether it was aimed at him or at herself for letting the Deceiver in so deeply within her mind. Sauron easily blocked her blows with Adar’s blade while their fight moved away from the fallen Uruk.
They were now battling on top of some old ruins, each chasing and striking blows with their swords out of pure passion rather than with the mind of a calm commander. The Deceiver had observed her training with the Numenorean soldiers with great interest and recognized the fierce warrior within her. He already knew then that he wanted her at his side as his Queen but he could have guessed that swaying someone as passionate and powerful as her would prove to be difficult.
He spun behind one of the walls of the ruins they fought upon, briefly disappearing from her sight, before reappearing in front of her wearing his Halbrand disguise. Galadriel held her blade high, ready to strike again, although the fatigue of the sword fight started to wear her out. She faltered instantly at the sight of the familiar brown locks and kind face. There he was standing right in front of her, Halbrand. The hand wielding her blade trembled and lowered ever so slightly.
“It is not my wish to harm you.” He spoke with a sincerity in his eyes that made her almost believe him.
“Do you wish to heal me?” Galadriel breathed while she couldn’t stop staring at his face, that mortal guise that had once almost been her undoing. She hated him even more for exploiting this weakness within her but still she couldn’t bring herself to lash out at Halbrand.
“I wish to heal all of Middle-Earth.” These words shook her from her trance as she resumed her attack but Halbrand was still there in front of her and it distracted her. Sauron took advantage by swiftly disarming her and pushing her against the wall behind her. The back of her head hit the stone hard as she briefly saw stars before her focus returned. Halbrand had her pinned to the wall holding one of her hands by the wrist above her head while his other arm was pressed softly against her lower neck.
“Galadriel, surely you of all Elves must understand that to find the light, we must first touch the darkness.”
“We are not alike! We never were, it was just another of your illusions.” Galadriel spat back furious for allowing herself to be best like that. Just the mere sight of Halbrand made her lose all concentration on the fight allowing the Deceiver to easily disarm her.
Sauron blinked and stared at her. “Not all of it.” His voice wobbled despite having the upper hand in the struggle. He could have easily ended her life just here and now but rather than delivering the killing blow, he spoke with such a fragile voice that it caught Galadriel off guard once more.
“I know your mind, the door is still open.” The Deceiver continued while never taking his eyes off of hers.
Galadriel’s breath shuddered at the close proximity of the Deceiver to her face and the vulnerability that he showed in his words. She never imagined a being such as Sauron to be even capable of showing any signs of weakness and despite the fact that he had her pinned against the crumbling wall, he looked more hurt than she did.
“Have you never wondered how life would have been like if you had let me stay in Númenor. I was happy to give it all up, just live my life as a Númenorean smith and forget about the past. But you dragged me back here to Middle-Earth, I never wanted to be here again in the first place.”
“Would you have truly stayed there on that island for eternity?” Galadriel breathed back hardly believing herself that she was having this conversation with him.
“There was a reason why you found me in the middle of the sea. The last time I walked in Middle-Earth, my closest ally betrayed me and stabbed me in the back of my neck. Before that… I was following orders from a mad God who sought nothing else but destruction upon all lands. I was happy in Númenor, I felt free for the first time in my life but you had to drag me back here.”
Sauron closed his eyes in frustration and leaned his head forward so that his forehead was resting upon that of Galadriel. The sudden and rather intimate touch made her heart beat rapidly. She hated herself how easily Sauron had found a way inside her mind and how quickly she developed such strong feelings for the person responsible for her brother’s death.
“If it pains you this much, why don’t you break off this siege and send the Orcs back from hence they came?” Galadriel replied softly feeling the hot breath of his upon her face which only further unsettled her mind.
“I wish I could, Galadriel, truly I wish I could.” He leaned in closer until their lips were touching. Galadriel did not resist the kiss though it utterly surprised her in the first few moments. Before even her own mind had realized it, she was kissing him back with such passion that it equaled the swordfight they had earlier.
Sauron’s hand slacked until he eventually let go of her wrist that he held above her head. He grazed her hair while deepening the kiss. Galadriel lowered her now liberated arm until her hand was resting on the armour above his collar bone. She did not try to push him away but rather pulled him towards herself. The hand on top of the black armour slightly moved up to grab onto the edge of his collar at the base of his throat.
It was eventually Sauron who broke off the kiss but his face remained mere inches away from hers. “Come with me, please. I will make you a Queen, one so powerful that none in Middle-Earth’s history or future could hope to surpass.”
Galadriel’s mouth was slightly open as she pondered on his words. Oh how easy would it be to just give in and allow a little bit of darkness inside of her if it meant she could save his soul and remain at Halbrand’s side. She was just about to reply when a familiar voice called out to her from a short distance.
“Galadriel! What is going on here?”
She recognized that voice anywhere. The words belonged to her King who had somehow found a way up here through the thicket of the battle. Her eyes shifted so that she could gaze behind Halbrand and saw that both Gil-Galad and Elrond approached her with sword in hand covered in the grime of blood and dirt received in battle.
Sauron let go of her completely and spun around to confront the foolish Elves who had ruined the moment between him and Galadriel. He almost swayed her to his side, he knew she was just seconds away from committing her life to his but the Elven King and the young boy, who had gazed upon him with suspicion ever since he first arrived in Eregion, were standing in front of him.
Even though Sauron was an expert at wielding a blade in battle, a fight with the three Elves around him at the edge of a rather high cliff had him unsettled. He knew that there was a distinct possibility that he would lose this fight and possibly his life. It would take centuries, or perhaps another whole age, to regenerate his corporeal form and get to the point where he was right now.
“Surrender now, Deceiver.” Elrond spoke while pointing his blade towards Sauron’s throat. The Deceiver slowly walked backwards until he reached the edge of the cliff. Galadriel watched the scene unfold in front of her but did not pick up her sword from the ground nor made any effort in supporting her King and her dear friend. The kiss had left her dazed and she understood that it wasn’t only her that had been affected so greatly by it. The Deceiver had the upper hand but now lost all of his advantages while surrounded with no place to go.
Without thinking, Galadriel approached the Deceiver and her hand grazed his cheek briefly before she closed her eyes and let herself fall off the edge of the cliff. Sauron spun around his eyes wide in fear as he reached out to grab her but it was too late. She quickly disappeared from his sight into the depths of the river below with Sauron not knowing whether she survived the fall or not.
Both Elrond and Gil-Galad had rushed to the edge as well in a desperate attempt to catch her but they could do nothing else but look on hopelessly as she fell down into the river below. Sauron took this moment to disappear from their sight but not before Gil-Galad had seen the terror in the Deceiver’s eyes. He saw true fear in Sauron, not for himself but for Galadriel’s life which greatly unsettled him. It was clear that both of them still reserved some feelings for each other although he did not expect the genuine emotion on the Maiar’s face. Perhaps the bond between them wasn’t as one-sided as he had expected.
He cursed loudly while Elrond was already making his way down the cliff to seek Galadriel. Not only did the Deceiver escape from them while he had been so near in their clutches, he now had to deal with his greatest Commander harbouring feelings for their greatest enemy. Did Sauron push her down the cliff or did she jump willingly to allow him the time to escape? If the latter was true, then that was one of the worst crimes an Elf within his Kingdom could commit. Would Galadriel truly risk betraying her own kind to allow an enemy to run away?
With a sigh of utter frustration, Gil-Galad sheathed his sword and started to descend as well while thinking what to do next. The Dwarves Elrond had promised, won them the battle but the city had been lost. How would the surviving Elves react if he ordered Galadriel’s arrest or if the story of her helping the Deceiver escape somehow spread amongst their ranks? He needed a good word with Elrond as well.