The Shadows That Remain Rating: PG-13
A Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, The Silmarillion fic - CHAPTER20
A willowy blonde woman with tresses of shoulder length hair pulled away from her eyes stared down into what looked like a bird bath. Except this wasn’t a bird bath. Silver gleamed highlights as the full moon peered through the window of one of the high office buildings of the headquarters of Lorien Incorporated, located in the White City.
The White City had no name, as its location was not known save for the few that remembered its ancient human name, but it was located in a mountainous region. But here stood the City of Hope, The-City-That-Will-Not-Be-Named, the City-That-Cannot-Fall…the city where everything against a growing evil was planned.
For Lady Artanis* of the Noldorian-Eldar bloodline, dating back to the Valian Tree days when the sun did not shine in Valinor, she was as strong-willed, stubborn, yet one of the wisest of her race. But she did not go by the name of Artanis anymore, nor did she go by her mother’s name for her, Nerwen.
Since the Ages of the Sun had begun, she used the name of Galadriel, the affectionate nickname given to her by her husband Celeborn. But the affectionate name now had new meaning. It drove fear into the hearts of evil and brought troops and Elves under her command. But she did not really care for command at the moment.
At the moment ... all she cared was looking into Mirror. The bird-bath like thing was her Mirror, a relic she brought with her as she made her journey into Valinor back at the end of the Third Age.
Now as she stared into it, she saw the fierce battle waged in the Golden City. Elves and human defenders dying as mages killed them with their magic, but it looked like the enemy was losing slowly.
She saw Elrond display his unusual fusion of Vernomage and Technomage powers, his sons Elrohir and Elladan doing what they do best ... even Anna Elanore defending herself and her fellow mages from attacks.
She waved a hand over her Mirror once more and this time she watched as the nine members of the Reincarnated fellowship battle their way up the Empire State Building of the Black City. They fought with relentless courage, taking down anything that stood in their way. Oh how she wanted to warn them of Shadow Elves creeping upon them ... an ambush but she knew that Sauron’s power was too powerful at the moment to let her use her telepathy.
“They fight with more conviction than ever before,” Celeborn’s voice spoke softly from her side and his hand slipped into hers. She squeezed his for reassurance as she kept staring at the images of battle before her in her Mirror.v “They do not know what’s at stake, but they sense it,” Galadriel replied, “It was always them ... the Fellowship that lead us ...”
She waved her free hand over again and this time the battle returned to the Golden City. It zoomed upon a particular battle in which Glorfindel and Haldir were involved in. Galadriel quelled a small smile as she watched her faithful guard-general fight. Haldir was ever faithful and questioned nothing, even though she sensed at times that he didn’t really like her orders. But that was what also made him an effective commander to be put in charge after her old guard-general Thorwen perished in Angmar.
“You were right to send Haldir to Elrond,” Celeborn murmured thoughtfully as he too watched the battle unfold in her Mirror.
They watched as the Nazgul’s steed dived and was suddenly blown up to pieces. It was graphic and bloody, but Galadriel was already used to it ... after all, it was war. But she noticed something ... not about Haldir, but about the Elf that was fighting next to him ... Glorfindel.
“Is he doing what I think he is?” even Celeborn was astonished and Galadriel felt her eyes widened with surprise.
“He’s returning ...” she whispered, her eyes not seeing the bright light that surrounded Glorfindel, but the emergence of something else ... a reborn soul ...
But just as suddenly the power faded with the death of the Nazgul and Glorfindel looked his normal self. Gone was the light that surrounded him and his face was a bit confused but seemed to know where he was and what he had done. She reached out with her free hand and touched the Mirror briefly, wondering at the fleeting burst of power coming from the Eldar.
It had been so long ... Memories were flooding into her of the Glorfindel she once knew, not the guard-general of Elrond, but the high commander, second only to Turgon, had died ... but Mandos seemingly released the Eldar from his halls. When Glorfindel reappeared into the world, Galadriel had seen the fleeting bits of power appear and disappear from the elf ... but as mages came into being, this fleeting power grew stronger and stronger and she knew that the Eldar was slowly regaining his memories, even though he didn’t know how to control it.
Suddenly she felt great evil from her Mirror and took her hand back, startled. She watched as the two guard-generals grimace terribly from the power transfer and realized that the Nazgul carried tremendous evil.
“Galadriel?” Celeborn asked, concerned.
“Evil ... so much evil,” she whispered, staring at the charred remains of the Nazgul, “how could one creature possess so much ...”
She waved her hand over her Mirror and it returned to its reflective state. Turning away, she walked over to the balcony jutted out from the massive castle-like building of Lorien Inc. headquarters. One of many, she stared out at the full moon and watched high clouds pass by. Her husband stood behind her, one hand still clasped in hers, giving her reassurance.
“Do you think it wise to give such a task to Legolas if you sense this much evil in a Nazgul?” Celeborn asked.
“I ... don’t know,” for once in her life, Galadriel was unsure. She knew Legolas had innate power, an offset from his assassin days and she sensed that he had the potential to become greater, almost Eldar-like. But now ... she feared for him. If he was to fall into shadow ... then all would be lost.
Not for the first time, she stared up at the moon and cursed the Valar for the inability to resolve anything; their inability to cease their manipulative schemes. If the Valar destined the Earth and her world to fall into darkness, she wouldn’t hesitate to rebel again.
Feanor’s legacy must be stopped.
* * * * *
* = Galadriel has different spellings of her father’s name for her ...
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