The Shadow Walker

53. Forgiveness (or Lack Thereof)

I swallowed hard. Aragorn, Legolas, Boromir. Gimli, and the Hobbits. I was their greatest danger?

"Then why don't you restrain me the way Elrond did?" I demanded, bitterness steeping my words.

Galadriel lifted my chin, as Legolas had begun making a habit of. A smile graced her lips. "Because you are also the Fellowship's greatest hope," she whispered.

My breath came in shaky bursts. This was too much responsibility. Way too much. "My Lady, I...I can't..." I shook my head, the desperate words of despair getting tangled up in my head.

"'Can't' is a self-fulfilling prophecy," Galadriel said gently. "If you allow yourself to believe that you cannot accomplish something, you never will."

I looked away. She was right, of course. But that didn't make my position any easier to deal with.

"When I was probing your mind this morning," Galadriel said, "I discovered something you had pushed into the back corner and nearly forgotten. If I may, I would like to remind you of it."

I sniffed back the ever-present tears and nodded. "Go for it."

"Had Sauron never stepped on Isildur's blade and broken it, Narsil would never have cut the Ring from Sauron's hand. Narsil would've been just another ownerless sword on a desolate battleground. For some things to become whole, they must first be broken."

I gave her a sad smile. "That's not exactly encouraging."

"It is not intended to be," Galadriel replied gently. "But I have something more to add." I nodded for her to continue, and she said, "For you to truly gain what you desire, you must first sacrifice everything that you have."

I flinched. Sacrifice wasn't a word I particularly cared for. Especially when I'm the one supposed to do the sacrificing. Metaphorically speaking. I hoped.

Galadriel ran an affectionate hand over my snarled hair once more, then said, "It is late, and you are weary. Return to your flet and rest. We will speak again in due time."

"I don't know the way," I admitted. "We could be halfway to Mordor, and I wouldn't know it."

The Lady of Light gave a quiet chuckle. "Fear not, I summoned a guide."

A not-pleasant thought popped into my head, and I internally cringed, already knowing my guess was correct. I didn't even dare put it in words.

"It's Haldir, isn't it?"

Galadriel calmly met my gaze. "You hurt him, Amariel."

"I didn't mean to!"

"I know you didn't. But he is hurt nonetheless."

I looked away, ashamed.

"My Lady," called a familiar male's voice from a ways up the staircase. "I have come, as you reque..." Haldir's sentence trailed off, and a long moment of silence ensued. I could only imagine the mental conversation he was having with Galadriel.

"Haldir," Galadriel said stoically, "this is Amariel. She requires assistance returning to her flet for the evening. Would you be so kind as to guide her?"

A long pause. I didn't dare meet Haldir's glare, which I could feel drilling between my shoulder blades. Galadriel, on the other hand, had the audacity to look amused.

"Of course," Haldir finally ground out.

"He's going to kill me," I thought nervously.

Galadriel looked at me. "I would know if his hatred were that strong."