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Chapter Text

The moon hang high above Caras Galadhorn, casting a silver sheen across the quiet leaves of Lothlòrien.

Beneath the flets of the of the great mallorn trees, time itself seemed to hold its breath.

Galadriel stood tall before the mirror, her golden hair glowing faintly in the starlight. Frodo, small and pale, looked up at her, trembling. His  hand extended, holding the ring in his open palm.

“It is yours, if you ask” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “ You are wise, and fair. More worthy than i.”   

Galadriel did not answer at once. Her eyes locked upon the ring, and for a moment, her face changed. A shadow passed over it- terrible and beautiful. Power stirred in the air, thick and cold as a fog.

“You offer it freely,” she said slowly. “I do not deny my heart has long pondered such a gift”

Then she stepped forward, her hand rising above the golden band. “And now at last it comes to me. The ring of power. Forged in secret, kept in darkness, and now……willingly surrendered.”

The ring pulsed. The very trees of Lothlòrien seemed to shiver. Frodo took a step back.

Galadriel´s voice deepened, distant and echoing. “In place of the dark lord you would have a queen! Not dark, but beautiful and terrible as the dawn! Treacherous as the sea! Stronger than the foundations of the earth!”

For a breathless moment, all light withdrew from the glade. Then- she took it.

The ring slide into her finger like it had been waiting for her all along.

A wind rose. The stars above dimmed. The forest moaned.

Frodo fell to his knees “No…”

Galadriel turned to him. Her eyes gleamed with a thousand hidden truths “Fear not ringbearer. Your task is ended. You have brought me the keys to salvation. To victory”

The world around them twisted. The trees bent inward. A new power had awakened.

And far way, in the dark towers of Mordor, the eye flared wide.

Chapter Text

                                                        Queen of Light and shadow

                                                 Chapter two: Whispers in Rivendell

The wind had shifted. 

In the high halls of Imladris, Elrond Half-elven stood upon his balcony, eyes narrowed toward the distant south. The breeze that once carried the scent of mallorn blossoms now brought something colder - sharp and strange, like gold gone bitter. 

He turned as footsteps echoed behind him.

Gandalf approached, his staff in hand and his brows furrowed deeper than before.

“You feel it too,” Elrond said quietly.”. “

Gandalf nodded. “A disturbance. As though a song has changed its key, and all the world now listens to a different tune”

Elrond`s gaze darkened. “It began last night. The stars flickered over Lòrien.” 

“The ring,” Gandalf murmured. “It has been claimed.”

Elrond`s breath caught. “Then Frodo is lost?”

Gandalf closed his eyes briefly. “No. Not lost. But… his task has been ended, not by failure, but by another´s choice.”

They stood in silence.

Then Gandalf spoke again, his voice a low thunder: “Galadriel has taken the ring.”

Elrond stepped back as if struck. “No… she would not. She resisted for an age. She—”

“She has,” Gandalf interrupted, solemn. “And already, the balance begins to shift. Shadows retreat from the east, but not in fear of light- in deference to something older and greater. She was mighty before, but with the ring….”

Elrond lowered his head. “Then we may face not Sauron’s dominion, but hers”

Gandalf´s voice became hard. “The war of the ring is over, Elrond. But another is beginning. One of choices made in golden light, and of fear wrapped in beauty.”  

In the distance, the moon waned, and a silence fell upon Rivendell that had not been heard since the first age.  

And far to east, beyond the mountains, the fires of Mordor flickered low—not extinguished, but watching.

Waiting.