The Teacher - Missing Scenes | By : pip Category: -Multi-Age > General Views: 4116 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Tolkien's world, middle earth, Lord of the Rings or any characters. I make no money from this. |
Galion 2
Celeborn strode purposefully through the palace of Thranduil, the last ElvenKing of Middle Earth, lamp in hand. It was not necessary for him to seek Galion out. If he paused and closed his eyes, Celeborn could sense the ancient servant. It was a thrum of something in his mind. Power, perhaps. Not unlike the mindspeaking he and Galadriel indulged in from time to time.
Whatever room Galion was in was irrelevant. Celeborn found it and knocked respectfully on the door before entering. How unassuming he was! Celeborn was not taken in, however. This is where it came from, the gentle humming of a presence. He walked across the room to where Galion was sitting, and knelt as a mark of respect.
“Do you make a habit of kneeling in front of mere servants?” Galion asked coolly without opening his eyes. The servant was sitting in a chair, sprawled out, a wine glass tilting dangerously in his hand so that Celeborn wanted to take it before it could fall and smash on the floor.
“No,” Celeborn replied serenely, smiling. “Neither do I make a habit of kneeling before the ancients, but then I never met one before.”
“Your Lady is ancient enough,” Galion replied.
“Not like you.”
At last, the servant opened his eyes. “Oh, do get up,” he said with an exasperated sigh. “There's a perfectly good chair... somewhere...” He waved vaguely with the glass.
Celeborn found a chair and drew it closer to Galion's own. The other elf was so enchanting, and though he knew it was not deliberately done he could not help that it worked on him. He drew in a steadying breath. “I bring a message from Galadr - ,” he began, only to stop when Galion scowled at him.
“Yes, yes, that's all very well. I know. She sent you in the end, did she?” Celeborn opened his eyes wide. “For years now she's been pecking away,” Galion complained, “trying to talk at me from a distance. I want no part in it, whatever it is. Will you tell her that?”
Disconcerted, Celeborn did not know what to say. He was used to being listened to, respected. He was old himself, if not ancient compared to Galion, and he was so accustomed to having a certain effect even on most elves that this attitude from Galion completely threw him.
Although he had been sent with a message, it wasn't the primary purpose of his visit. His purpose had been to ease Thranduil, and he was making great headway with that. But now this? Celeborn bit his lip, unsure what to do. He couldn't reach out to Galadriel, for if he did Galion would surely hear it.
“All you have to do is tell your Lady Galadriel to leave me alone.” Galion spoke as if he had been listening to Celeborn's thoughts. Perhaps he had. Though he had teased Thranduil with the idea of it mere minutes ago, others' thoughts were only a signal of intent, a vague sense. Who knew what Galion could hear?
“And tell her she nags.”
Celeborn suddenly laughed out loud. It felt good. “I will tell her, if you insist,” he said. “But we need you.”
“You do not. And even if you did, I am not interested. Do you understand?”
Again, Celeborn struggled for a response. Where was the wisdom that should be present here in this ancient elf? Galadriel was wise. Elrond too, being part Maia, was wise beyond his years, many as they were.
“We do not change, no matter how ancient we become,” Galion told him, again, as if he had been listening to Celeborn's thoughts. “Look to your own history, and see how the elves of the First Age acted. That is the truth of it. And that is our curse. We live forever, but we do not grow up.”
“And perhaps it is a good thing,” Galion continued, “else we would all become some boring, wise, uniform lump of elvenkind. Preaching to the mortals forever and ever until they evetually rose up to destroy us, just as they would any tyrant.”
“But Sauron -”
“Is not my concern. I did not involve myself in the last great mess, and Oropher understood my reasoning. I won't involve myself in this one.”
“What are you interested in?” Celeborn asked, and then actually blushed, given that he had a sudden thought that he wished it was him.
“At the moment... Thranduil.” Galion yawned and crossed his legs. “He entertains me, and so does Legolas.”
The real reason he had found Galion tonight was suddenly in his mind. “Thranduil does not require your...” he struggled for the word, “services, tonight.”
“Good. Tell him you found me passed out in the wine cellar. That should make his blood burn a little.”
Celeborn gasped, shocked, as Galion stood up and stretched out his arms, then placed the glass on a side table. He turned to where Celeborn was sitting and despite his small stature it was as if he loomed. Celeborn was suddenly filled with superstitious dread as he sensed Galion's mind opening up a little. He saw a settlement in the icy wastes of Forodwaith, and he understood the missing ones, how they came back changed and violent. Damaged. The making of the Orcs! Celeborn thought he would scream, but then the disturbing impression was gone.
“I want no part of it,” Galion repeated, and Celeborn nodded instantly. “It is too much. Too heartbreaking.”
“Avari,” he breathed, and Galion did not deny it. “Why do you not tell her yourself? You must be powerful enough...”
“And begin a conversation? I think not... you will tell her, for me.”
Galion smiled, and all of a sudden he wasn't intimidating at all, just another elf, small of stature, somewhat beguiling.
“Of course, I will do whatever you wish of me,” Celeborn said, once more entranced. Galion nodded, then turned away, and it was so silly now to think there had been anything frightening about him at all.
Galion walked away, and as he reached the door, he paused, smiling. “Go back to Thranduil now. He awaits you.” Then he was gone.
~ finis ~
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