The Eye of His Dark Majesty

Veil of Deception

After my conversation with the Queen, I had slipped away, my mind racing with thoughts of Galadriel. I needed to see her, to reassure myself that she was okay. I made my way to the dungeons, approaching the cold, stone walls of the castle. My instincts told me to tread carefully; the guards were vigilant, but I found a moment of solitude and took my chance to slip inside.

As I descended into the shadows, the air grew cooler and more oppressive. The flickering torches cast eerie shadows on the walls, making me feel as though I was walking through a labyrinth of regret. I turned a corner and found myself in the prison. I caught a glimpse of her hair. The sight of her behind bars sent a pang of guilt through me.

Galadriel was pacing, her long hair cascading around her shoulders like a waterfall of silver, her expression tense as she confronted Halbrand in the adjacent cell. I paused to listen, my heart racing as I caught snippets of their conversation.

"Don't tell me. Tavern brawl?" Halbrand's voice rang out, a teasing lilt in his tone, his disheveled hair framing his face. He looked relaxed despite the chains binding him. It was as if he found humor in the absurdity of their situation.

"Sedition," Galadriel retorted, her voice laced with a mix of defiance and frustration.

The banter between them felt like a dance, each word infused with a sharp wit that masked the gravity of their circumstances. Halbrand continued, his tone lighter, "As much as I admire your habit of charging at every obstacle in your path, like a colt in full gallop... has it ever occurred to you that you're not battling trolls or orcs, but Men?"

"Are you really about to advise me in the art of war?" Galadriel shot back, her brow furrowing as she continued pacing.

Halbrand chuckled, clearly amused. "No. No, I... I wouldn't dare. But then... the queen's court isn't exactly your usual battlefield, is it?"

I felt the hostility in the air shift, Halbrand's words cutting deeper than mere jest. Galadriel paused, sensing the gravity of his message.

"In an instance like this, it seems to me that you'd do well to identify what it is that your opponent most fears."

"And exploit it?" Galadriel asked, her tone skeptical.

"No. Give them a means of mastering it. So that you can master them," Halbrand replied, his voice steady, offering her insight that transcended mere strategy.

Galadriel's response was skeptical but curious. "So by your standards, I'm in this cell, because I've yet to identify what the queen most fears?"

"My very low standards. Yes," he teased, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

Galadriel's eyes narrowed. "And I suppose you did, having known her for all of a few days?"

My heart raced as I listened to them, feeling a mix of admiration and jealousy. Halbrand's cockiness, his confident demeanor—it was a powerful contrast to Galadriel's palpable frustration. I couldn't deny that a strange feeling stirred within me as I observed their dynamic.

Halbrand replied with a knowing smirk, "During which you managed to demand a ship, insult her people, defy her orders—none of which quickened her pulse. Now, all of a sudden, she throws you in a cell. Why?"

Galadriel narrowed her eyes. "I asked her to fight for your people."

"But that wasn't what provoked her anger, was it?" Halbrand challenged, sitting up slightly, his demeanor shifting as he probed deeper.

"I went to speak with her father. The king in the tower, whom no one has seen in years," Galadriel confessed, her voice revealing a hint of frustration.