Chapter Text
Galadriel had always been an outcast to her kin. She was the Commander of the Northern Armies, yes. But she was always the one ignored, dismissed and not trusted. The High King never sat down to listen to her rants about Sauron and her pursuit of him. He believed all that as fairytales and lost missions. He was certain that he was dead, long gone, for there had been no signs of him. But he let her embark on the journeys to keep her quiet and away from the rest of the elves. She had always been hard to deal with, headstrong as she was.
She was exhausted by the disrespect she was constantly facing from them. She was Galadriel of the Ñoldor, daughter of the Golden House of Finarfin, one of the last elves to have seen—and been—in Valinor. Her age and experience were not comparable to the other elves’. She had seen things that no other elf had seen before, they could not even dare to dream about it. How dare they? She was the one supposed to rule as the High Queen, it was her birthright, but she had been pushed aside in favor of Gil-Galad and others. If only she had been Queen, she would have done things differently. And she was sure that she would have found Sauron at some point and she would have gotten rid of his dominion of darkness.
Her rage had exploded when Gil-Galad had asked for a meeting with her and had told her—not even asked—that she was to marry the king of The Southlands. She had opposed the moment she had heard of it. She was not willing to give away her freedom and will. She had not consented to this.
She had been informed that there was nothing she could do. They needed to form an allegiance with men so peace could reign in Middle Earth. He had offered her hand to the king of men as part of the deal.
She had trembled from the anger that rushed through her. She was not to be given away as a prize or a common whore. She would not allow it.
“This is my final say, Galadriel,” Gil-Galad spoke, his tone stern. He was not accepting her refusal. “I’m your king.”
“You are selling me away like a whore, like an offering to keep peace!” She raised her voice. “I’m Ñoldor elf! I’m not going to marry a man,” she shouted at him. “You have forgotten that I’m already married in the Eldar’s eyes. I cannot remarry.”
“Your dear husband is dead, Galadriel.” There was a pang of pain in her chest at the mention of the loss of her beloved husband. “He is not coming back.” The reminder hurt. Deep inside, she wished he would one day show up as if nothing had occurred. But the logical part of her knew that he was long gone and would never come back to her. “This is a chance for an allegiance and peace, Galadriel, don’t you understand?”
“The Valar will not allow me to remarry.”
“They will if it’s to keep the peace.”
She snorted. They never involved themselves in their business, but decided it was the right time to do it. When her whole life and destiny was at stake. It was laughable how unlucky she was.
She felt as if she was being punished—not only by the Valar—but also by her own kin. They were sending her away—to another kingdom away from her home—a prisoner and a slave to a marriage of convenience she had never agreed to, so there could be peace. But not only that, she knew there were ulterior motives behind it. Her being married to a man meant that whenever the elves needed something they would count on the mortals to do their bidding, but that also worked the other way round. And she knew that Gil-Galad had agreed to the proposal so he could get rid of her. She had always been an obstacle—an ongoing fight—and with her gone, his life and rule would become a lot easier.
“You are to ride to The Southlands in the morrow.”
She was going to protest, but he raised his hand and glared at her.
“I don’t want to hear it, Galadriel,” he started. “I’m your king and you will do as I say. You are doing this for your people.” What was she? A sacrifice? Why her? “Get ready to leave. A group of soldiers will join you on your journey to ensure you arrive safely.” Arrive safely? Or that she arrived at all and didn’t run away?
Her mind was conjured up ways to escape late at night, before having to depart to the South. But she knew Gil-Galad would not allow it. He was smarter than that and would make sure she was constantly guarded so she would not mess with his carefully planned plans.
The journey to The Southlands took seven days, with stops and few distractions that arisen.
When they finally made it to the destination, they rode into an awaiting village. The town’s people were on each side, forming a pathway so they could ride past them. All eyes were on her, and she could hear whispers and see fingers pointed at her.
“A she-elf”, she heard them saying. Some wondered what she was doing there. Others were not happy that she was there. She did not belong there, and she agreed with them. She did not want to be there. This was not her home or her people. This was all imposed on her.
She had completely lost her agency. She was to be a puppet in bigger schemes. Soon to be a wife again and to rule a kingdom that was in shambles. Houses in ruins, towns not ready to accommodate its population, and little food available for the upcoming winter. It was not optimal.
“Go away.” She heard someone muttering, an old lady.
I wish, lady. I don’t want to be here. This is a life-sentence.
They arrived at the stone castle. It was not too big, and it needed to be fixed in some places, but she had expected way worse. She was surprised.
She dismounted her mare, settled her cloak and looked up at the stairs leading to the building she would now call home. She took a deep breath.
She was led by a group of people she believed was part of the royal court. They had taken her belongings, stored in various wooden chests. Her life was no longer in the kingdom she belonged to, but inside those pieces she was carrying with her.
The castle was nothing fancy, but adequate for what the village looked like. The king was not living surrounded by luxury, she could tell. It was all very modest.
She had never crossed paths with him. Only had heard about him in conversations with others. She had been told he was a good king and that he was committed and dedicated to his people and its wellbeing.
These people did not have a king for the longest time, or so their tales said, but, one day he appeared—the rightful heir to the throne of The Southlands. The lineage was restored. Its people had a king that would rule, lead and protect them, once again.
She wondered if there was something else, something darker behind this man. She had only heard praises, and yet she did not trust them at all.
“My Lady,” a servant spoke as she instructed her to walk up the stairs. They walked for some time through a long corridor until they reached a door. The woman knocked and waited for an answer before opening. “My Lord, your betrothed, the Lady Galadriel, is here.”
The woman moved away and Galadriel walked inside the room.
The sun shone brightly into the space, long red curtains hanging by the large windows,paintings hanging on the walls and a large chandelier hanging from the ceiling. There was a big table in the middle, covered in papers and maps. It seemed to be some sort of war room.
A noise startled her and her gaze moved to the source of the disturbance.
A man standing by the table. He had shoulder-length curly brown hair, small reflections of auburn mixed in it. His eyes were a hazel-green shade, from what she could tell. His face was covered in a neatly trimmed beard—a very man-like appearance. He looked so different from the elves, rough and not as polished. He wore a navy blue tunic and dark pants, paired with some black boots.
She froze. It was not her first time seeing a man, she had encountered many in her long existence. But there was something about him… She could not keep her eyes away from him.
He was quite appealing.
“You must be Lady Galadriel,” his gaze met hers.
“I’m the commander of the Northern Armies.” That came out harsher than expected. But, he deserved it. She was not going to make things easy for him, not when she was opposed to this union from the beginning.
“Not anymore.” He laughed and that enraged her. How dare he make fun of her? King or no king, he had no right to mock her. “You are to be my wife.”
“I did not agree to this.” She bared her teeth at him like a wild animal defending its territory.
“I’m not thrilled about it either, elf,” his tone was prepotent and it made her blood boil. “I’m only doing it to bring peace and unite our people. It’s a marriage of convenience.”
She snorted.
“Your people promised to help mine. With your aid we will rebuild our villages, feed people and help those in need. I do it for them.”
“How heroic of you, King Halbrand.” This time she was the one mocking him. She didn’t trust him one bit. She was convinced there were ulterior motives hidden behind the façade of a good and benevolous king.
“I want this much less than you do. You elves are arrogant and condescending beings. You are full of yourself and you believe yourself to be better than others. If I had another choice, I would have taken it. But I’m as stuck as you are, so we better make this work for both of our sakes.”
“I don’t want this to work.” She crossed her arms over her chest in protest.
“Are you always this stubborn?”
“I am when I’m forced into an arranged marriage with an arrogant King.”
Halbrand laughed.
“You are no better than I am, Elf.” He confronted her. He was taller than she was, something she had not observed before due to him having been bending down.
But if he meant to intimidate her he should try harded—she was not scared of him.
“I don’t trust you.” Her voice was laced with poison. “You pretend to be a good King, but I’m convinced there are ulterior motives behind this. You are not just doing this for your people.”
“Believe whatever you want, Galadriel.”
“To you, I am Lady Galadriel.” She snorted. His attitude was driving her insane. She had just met him and already detested him. He was so unnerving.
“Bronwyn,” he called. “Take Lady Galadriel to her chambers so she can settle down.” She heard mockery in his tone, and he flashed her a smirk.
“Yes, my King.” The lady that had entered the room bowed down to him.
Galadriel threw him a glare, a defiant one, as Bronwyn led her away.
“Lady Galadriel and I will dine together. Help her get ready.”
Bronwyn nodded and guided Galadriel away.
She spent the whole walk to her new chambers cursing him in her mind. Such a detestable man he was. Would his people miss him if she killed him in his sleep? She would be a fugitive and any deal with the elves would be broken, but she could not take this. Anything was better than to be married to him and be condemned to a miserable life.
She had been helped in getting ready for the evening, and had chosen a light blue dress with gold details. Her hair was loose, except for two braids that connected at the back of her head.
She had delayed it as much as she could, she dreaded going down to join Halbrand for dinner. She did not want to see him. But, at some point, two servants had come to collect and escort her down to the dining room.
The room was big enough, with a large table in the middle. Halbrand sat at the end of it.
Large chandeliers hang from the ceiling and some were placed on the sides of the room, their candles lit. A large tapestry hang from the wall, depicting a pastoral landscape. She guessed it must have been of some of his ancestors.
“It’s an honor that you joined me, Lady Galadriel.” Halbrand stood up from his chair to welcome her. He extended his hand for her to take, but she didn’t answer his gesture.
Halbrand let out a small laugh.
Galadriel went to the seat by his side. He was quick to pull out the chair and help her, even if she had not been amused by it.
“You gave me no choice, my King.” A death stare in her face.
Halbrand sat down on his seat and looked at Galadriel.
“What do you intend with this charade?” she inquired.
“Does there have to be something behind my intentions?” He took a sip of his red wine. “I just intend to get to know my future wife. We are to live together.”
“I don’t want to be your wife.”
“You have no choice, Galadriel. Me neither. We have to make this work.” His stare fixed on her. “I just want my people to be able to live in good conditions. I want them to have a place to call home, to be able to eat, have healers, and see their kids grow up healthy.”
“That is not on me. It’s on Sauron and his disgusting orcs for spreading poison on these lands.” Galadriel stabbed her fork into the chicken on her plate.
“You are right. Sauron destroyed everything in his path. But it’s on us to rebuild and become stronger,” he said. “These people did not deserve the war and death that was brought upon them. I have a chance to help them make it better.” He leaned closer to her, and she could see the beautiful shade of green he had in his eyes. “We don’t have to like each other. I just need you to fulfill your part of the deal.”
Galadriel went silent, the gears in her brain turning and turning as she gave it a thought. These people were innocent and had already suffered enough. She could not ignore them and leave them to their luck. She had a chance to help.
“I have some terms to go through before I agree to this marriage.” Her blue eyes stared deep into him.
Halbrand leaned back on the chair, observing her and made a gesture for her to go on.
“One: No sexual intercourse.”
“I’m a man, Galadriel” A smirk plastered on his face. “And my bed gets cold in the winter. I appreciate the company.” He looked at her from under his lashes.
“No.” Her tone was stern. “I will not get into bed with you.” She grabbed the knife from the table in a tight hold. Halbrand’s eyes went to her closed fist.
“We are to be husband and wife, Galadriel. Those kinds of activities are to be expected.” He drank from his cup and licked his lips clean.
“I don’t care. My answer is no.” She growled.
“We are not to consummate our marriage?” He was messing with her and it was starting to annoy her. She growled at him again, the knife pointed at him. “Okay.” He nodded as he raised his hands in innocence.
“You can have mistresses, I don’t mind.”
He raised his eyebrows at her.
“What of your reputation as queen if I, as your king, go around fucking mistresses?” It was a genuine question, she could tell.
“You ensure you protect my reputation by being discreet and not letting people find out.”
“Deal. What are your other terms?”
“I want to be in a search party with some of your best men to track down any traces of Sauron.” She dug the knife into the wood of the table.
“No,” his tone was harsh.
“No?” she frowned.
“I cannot have the queen running around Middle Earth hunting ghosts.”
“Hunting ghosts? You spoke of Sauron.” She raised her voice.
“Sauron has been gone for a long time. No traces left of him, only the destruction he caused has been left behind. It’s futile to go looking for him. He is no more.” He didn’t seem to feel threatened by her knife and moved forward in his seat. “As a queen you cannot go on a journey across Middle-Earth. You are to be here, ruling these people alongside me. Can’t have you out there getting hurt or killed. I’m supposed to protect you.”
“I can protect myself. I don’t need you.” She bared her teeth at him.
“Okay, Commander. Always the warrior. Do you ever let your defenses down?”
Galadriel glared at him.
“I don’t agree to that second term. Out of the question,” he informed her.
“How about you, at least, create a search party, even if I’m not a part of it?” She tilted her head at him, almost pleadingly. “Do it for your queen.” She batted her eyelashes at him, trying to convince him.
“That can be looked into.”
She sighed in relief. She would need to work a bit more on convincing him, but she was confident that she would be successful.
“What else?” He asked.
“I want separate chambers from you, even after the ceremony,” she added.
“You don’t want to share a bed with your husband?” He was teasing her.
“No,” was her answer.
“People will talk. They will wonder why the king and queen don't share chambers or a bed. Speculation will thrive.” He took a bite from his meat. “This will not help our case.”
“Do you have interconnecting rooms in the castle?” When he nodded, she added, “We keep up the façade of a marriage, and then each goes to their bed.”
“You can stay in my bed any time you like, Galadriel. I won’t oppose it.” A mischievous smile showed on his face and she rolled her eyes at him.
“Do you agree?” The knife once again pointed at him.
“Yes. No need for threats.” He looked at the weapon in her hand. “But, I have a petition too.”
Galadriel’s eyes widened in surprise. She had been content with his approval of her terms—or most of them, a few things needed to be tweaked—but she had not expected him to demand anything from her.
“And what is that?” Curiosity got the best of her. She wondered what he had in mind.
“You will spend three out of seven days in my chambers.” There was a pause. “You will sleep beside me in the same bed.”
“No.” She was not going to share a bed with him. Ever.
“No? Okay, then I refuse to go through with your terms.” He dropped the fork on the plate in front of him. “I collaborated, Galadriel. The least you can do is make the effort yourself and agree to my one and only term.”
She hesitated. Her lower lip trembled.
“No sexual intercourse,” she said.
“No sexual intercourse,” he agreed. “Do we have a deal?” He extended his hand over the table.
She took a deep breath and shook his hand. He pulled at her, bringing her closer and pressed his lips on the back of her hand. His eyes looked at her. When he was done, she harshly pulled her hand back.
“When is the wedding ceremony?” She dared to ask. She was actually dreading it. Terms or no terms, it meant that it would become official. She would be tied to him and would have to spend the rest of his existence by his side. He would die at some point. It was his destiny as a mortal, and she would live on for centuries after he passed. Time for an elf did not mean much. It would fly by for her. She would have to just put up with him for some time and then she would be free again.
She could do this.
“In three days,” he answered. “I have all my people on it. Ask for whatever arrangements you need. I have a tailor coming in for your wedding dress. You are to choose whatever suits you better.” It’s not like she was excited by the idea, so she had not given much thought to her wedding dress. She just wanted to go through with it. “Now, let us please enjoy our meal. You had a long journey and need some food.” He called for a servant to bring her a new knife and they went back to the food.
It was hard for Galadriel to let herself succumb to sleep that night. Her mind was racing and keeping her awake.
This whole situation made her feel uneasy. She reassured herself that she was doing this so the people in The Southlands had a better chance at a good life and so that her kin had an ally when needed.
Peace and truces were much needed in Middle–Earth after The Dark Lord and his armies had tried to conquer and dominate the lands. The repercussions of it still affected its inhabitants, and if she could at least help rebuild the south, she would feel satisfied. Maybe when they were finally done, they could help other lands.
Small steps. She would focus all her energy and efforts in aiding these people, that would keep her busy and away from her soon-to-be husband. It could work.
When she awoke the next morning, Bronwyn and some maids walked in and helped her get dressed. They had chosen an emerald dress with darker details and a low neckline; it wasn’t too revealing, but she knew Halbrand would be delighted with the view.
They braided her hair in a crown around her head and Bronwyn took the liberty of adding a few fresh and colorful flowers in her hair.
“You look beautiful, my Lady,” she said. Galadriel only smiled. “You will have to excuse the king, he won’t be able to break his fast with you. He had to go out on some business.” She felt relieved that she would not have to put up with Halbrand so soon in the morning. It gave her time to prepare herself and have some peace of mind even if for a short while.
“That is fine.”
Galadriel did not see Halbrand the entire day. He had been out fulfilling his duties and had not made it back until late in the evening.
She took that as an opportunity to roam around the castle and investigate its rooms and secrets. She didn’t find much, there were not many personal belongings in the building. She went through maps and old books, some old family heirlooms, art and tapestries.
She had walked down to the basement and into a room which was full of weapons, a forge. Swords and blades of different kinds were exposed. Who worked here creating all the weapons? Some of them were truly beautiful and magnificent. Would Habrand agree if she asked for a gorgeous sword as a wedding gift? She could try…
Galadriel had dismissed Bronwyn and the other maid when they had come in to help her get ready for bed. She had decided she would undress and bathe all alone.
She was sitting in front of the mirror combing through her golden tresses, when there was a knock on the door.
The door opened and she heard a pair of boots walking inside. In the mirror, she saw Halbrand standing there and admiring her.
“How is the future queen doing?” He asked as he approached her.
“It was a good day.”
“I bet it was. Not having to see me around surely helped.” He was smiling.
“What business did you have to take care of?”
“Nothing you need to be concerned with.” He stood behind her, looking at her on the mirror.
She snorted.
“I’m to be queen, whatever is happening with the people of The Southlands is my concern now.” She dropped the comb on the table in front of her and turned to face him. Her lips pressed into a tight line.
“A few families and merchants were concerned about the food and the sowing lands. People are stealing vegetables and we had to find out who it was,” he explained.
“Who was it?”
“A little girl trying to feed her ill mother and little brother.”
Her heart ached at what he was telling her. The poor little girl resolved to rob so she could provide for her family. She felt for her.
“Did you punish her?” She raised her voice. If he had…
“Of course not.” She felt relieved. “I’m not a monster, Galadriel. I gave her some coins and food to sustain her family and I promised I would visit soon.”
She sighed. Maybe he was not as bad as she had thought and really cared for his people.
“You did good.”
“Is my queen proud of me?” He chuckled and she rolled her eyes at him.
“I want to go with you when you visit them,” she said and he nodded in agreement.
“I just came to say goodnight. I better leave you so you can go to bed. Unless you want to join me in mine…” A smirk plastered on his face and she threw the comb at him. “I take that as a no.”
Before he could walk out of the door, Galadriel called for him and he turned to face her.
“Who works in the forge downstairs? All those weapons are beautiful. So well crafted.”
“It’s my forge. I go there to clear my head.” He took a few steps forward.
She was surprised to hear that.
“Are you a smith?”
“Yeah, since I was a little boy,” he told her.
“Your work is magnificent,” she praised him
He smiled and muttered a soft, “Thank you.”
“I was wondering if you would gift me a sword as a wedding present?” She dared to ask.
He was the shocked one now.
“You want a sword made by me?”
She just nodded.
“I could work on it.” He answered, making her smile at his positive answer. She thought he would reject the proposal. She was to be a queen, no longer a warrior. But this excited her. “Any requirements?”
“You are the smith, surprise me.” She was the one smirking now.
“I’ll craft you the most beautiful sword you have ever seen. Mark my words.” And, with that, he left her chambers.