It was the year 1480 of the Second Age. The Noldor had walked the shores of Arda for more than two thousand years. In Lorien, Galadriel and Celeborn had settled and found a home. They ruled over the Galadrim as Lord and Lady, and there was peace throughout their realm. And in their home dwelt a guest, sent from the Valar to aid their children, the elves. His name was Annatar. He was fair of face and manner, and all that looked upon him felt his great power. He had gone to Lindon and Imladris first, and had been turned away. But when he came to the Golden Wood, even though Galadriel had been sent word from her kinsmen not to trust in this stranger, he had been welcomed.

That had been nearly three-hundred years ago. Since that time, the Lady of the Wood and Annatar had become close. They were often found in each others company, reading or telling tales of Aman, for the Lady greatly longed for her home, and hearing of it brought her joy and peace. Feelings had begun to grow between the two, though no words had been spoken to give it name. Until this night...

Galadriel wandered through the Golden Woods, eventually coming to a staircase which wound down to an open grove. Not many came here, not since she had claimed it as a place of retreat. She breathed a sigh of relief as her feet touched the soft grass, glad to be away from prying eyes for a time. She had been greatly troubled, of late, and needed to make sense of what her heart and mind were telling her.

"Altariel, your light is dimmed. What could trouble you so?" a sweet voice called out to her. Galadriel turned to find Annatar leaning against a tree, watching her. She was surprised, but his presence here did not startle her. Annatar was one of the few that risked coming to her grove. She smiled warmly, pleased, in truth, to see him.

"My heart is torn, and I find myself in a sea of turmoil," she said softly.

"How may I help?" Annatar asked, taking a few steps forward and extending his hand to her. "My council is sometimes thought valuable," he added with a bit of a self-mocking smile.

Galadriel placed her hand in Annatar's. "Your council is always thought valuable, my friend, but I do not know that you can help me in this."

A look of concern came to Annatar's fair features. "I can but try. What has happened?"

Galadriel smiled uncertainly. "I have finally admitted to myself that I have feelings for someone other than my husband."

There was a brief instant of tension in the fingers of the hand that held Galadriel's, and then it was gone as if it had never been. "How...What types of feelings, Lady?"

"Feelings a married woman should not have," she admitted, lowering her head a little. "I am drawn to him in a way I can not explain. I find myself wishing to be near him, and I feel my heart opening to him every time he looks at me."

The tension returned, apparent even in Annatar's voice, which was known for its magic and control throughout Arda. "I...I have no advice I can give without hesitation, Lady. I..." The words drifted off, and silence again filled the grove.

"I know, and so I am torn. For how can feelings so strong and so good be wrong? I cannot simply stop having them, it would be like asking the trees to stop growing. Yet, I can no longer deny that they are there." Tears began to well in Galadriel's eyes as the frustration of her situation overwhelmed her.

"I cannot tell you how long I have waited to hear those words... and how long I have feared them..."

Galadriel wrapped her arms around Annatar's neck, her body shaking as her tears began to fall. He held her gently, though the tension in his shoulders and back told of some effort to maintain his control. "You are not alone in this, My Lady, you know that."

Galadriel nodded and placed her head upon his shoulder. "What have you to fear from my words, Annatar?"

His voice was almost a whisper as he spoke, his lips dangerously close to the lady's ear. "Words are a poor substitute for deeds, Altariel. I fear what I may do, now that I cannot tell myself that you could never feel this way."

Galadriel drew back a little and finally met Annatar's gaze. Her own eyes sparkled with unshed tears, though no more fell. The fingers of one of her hands reached out to caress his cheek softly. "Then I am sorry to have caused you such fear, though I am not sorry for the feelings themselves."

He smiled, his lips nearly trembling. "I could never be sorry for those." His face inched closer to hers, staring into her eyes as if fascinated by them.

"Annatar..." the name fell from her lips like a prayer and a warning all at once.

He leaned in to kiss her, hesitantly, as if he might bolt at any moment. Galadriel had never seen such emotions from him, and all at once she had leaned in herself, her lips touching his lightly. The hand that had so gently traced his cheek now hovering above his heart as if to protect it from harm.

They shared a timeless moment, that first touch like a soft breeze, and then Annatar pressed harder, his control evaporating. Galadriel's lips fluttered under his like a butterfly's wings, and then opened to him, hesitantly. He held her tight, his tongue gently probing, as she threaded the fingers of her other hand through the back of his hair and pulled him even closer to her. His left foot moved between hers, his leg pressing to the inside of her right. His lips moved over hers as his breathing became faster.

Galadriel pulled away, breaking the kiss. Her body trembled as she pressed her cheek to his, hot tears falling from her eyes onto his face. "Forgive me. Oh, forgive me my Love. I can not. I must not."

"My Love..." he repeated the words, his voice filled with both anguish and joy. "But..." he did not release her, but the tension from before returned to his body.

"Forgive me, my Love, my Annatar. Know that even as I weep my heart rejoices," she pleaded as she leaned back to kiss him lightly, her lips lingering on his for an instant before pulling back completely and fleeing up the stairs, away from the grove.

Annatar slowly turned away as his shoulders began to shake.

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