"I have," answered Cirdan, drawing forth from his pocket a small leather wallet on a chain. Reaching in, he withdrew a golden ring with a great glowing ruby that seemed to shine with its own light in the dim chamber. "Here is Narya, the Ring of Fire, kept hidden since it was given to me by Celebrimbor more than twelve yén ago."
Amroth looked at it in wonder. He had heard of the Three Rings of Power, of course, but they had been hidden so long and their location kept such a closely guarded secret, that he had never thought to see one. It loomed so large in the Elves' history and councils that he was somehow surprised to find it but a ring after all, though the loveliest he had ever seen.
Then Galadriel drew forth a fine silver chain from between her breasts, and lo, it bore a great ring of mithril with a single white adamant that sparkled like the Evenstar on a clear evening. "And here is Nenya," she said, "the Ring of Water."
Amroth stood staring, shocked at the display of so much power gathered in one place. Then to his amazement, his friend Elrond beside him drew a similar chain from around his neck. It too bore a ring, this a startling sapphire blue the color of a summer sky. "And here is Vilya," he said, "the Ring of Sky, mightiest of all, which I bear for my king Ereinion the Gil-galad."
The Ringbearers held them up and the small chamber was filled by the combined light of the Three, their colors mingling into a radiance that shimmered and scintillated, lighting their faces as they stood looking on in awe.
"And so the Three are together again," said Galadriel, "as has not happened since the day Sauron forged the One and his treachery was revealed."
"They are beautiful," breathed Amroth.
"Beautiful indeed," said Celeborn, "and also mighty, for they embody the power imbued upon us Quendi by the Valar in the Beginning of Days."
"Beautiful and mighty," said Galadriel, "but also most perilous, for all that we have wrought in the world is made through them. If they are lost, all the good that we have ever done will be undone. The fate of the world lies in these Three Rings, my friends, and in that One Ring now on the hand of Sauron.
"For remember the words that Celebrimbor heard the day the One was forged: " And her lovely clear voice turned harsh and cruel.
They all stared in horror at the change that seemed to have come over Galadriel at these words. Her voice had become like the harsh croaking of some huge carrion bird. Cirdan started back aghast, Elrond's hands went to his ears. But Galadriel was unchanged, and her voice returned to normal as she translated:
"You see," she went on, ignoring their horrified looks, "Sauron desires the Three to be brought to him, so he can meld them with his own and absorb all of their power into himself. This has been at the heart of all his devices and stratagems from the beginning. I remember well the words of Celebrimbor the day he gave us the Three: 'Take these Rings, each unto your own lands, and guard them well. Best that they lie unused, for when wielded they may draw Sauron's eye unto them. Above all, they must never be brought together again, for in concert they are more clearly perceived. Would that I had never made them, or that they could be unmade. I cannot keep them, for Sauron knows they are here and even now prepares a stroke against me, a stroke I fear I will be unable to withstand. But I give them unto the steadiest hands still to be found this side of the Sundering Sea.'
"That stroke he feared came soon after, and both Celebrimbor and all his land of Eregion are no more. Sauron has sought for the Three ever since. I ask you then, are we not playing into his hands to bring the Three into Mordor? Would he not rejoice to know of it?"
Cirdan shook his wise old head sadly. "Those were black days indeed, Lady. But I fear these are blacker still. Long have we kept the Three hidden and Sauron is stronger than ever. He waits now within his Tower as we gradually weaken, until such time as he deems us sufficiently helpless. Then he will fall upon us as he has done in the past. He was rash when he razed Eregion and he was humbled at last and driven out by Tar-Minastir and Gil-galad. He is more cautious this time.
"But our time is near at last. Our strength will never be greater. We can only decline and diminish. Even now ships are sailing from Mithlond, bearing the Eldar back over the sea. No more will ever come. Sauron knows that and bides his time.
"If there is any hope of casting him out, we must strike now, united with the Men, and using all the weapons we possess. If the Three cannot defeat him together, how can we hope to stand against him alone? It is most perilous, but we cannot afford to not use the Three."
"You speak wisely, Master," Galadriel replied. "But the chance is great. If we fail, all the west is lost, the Atani shall be enslaved, and the light of the Quendi shall pass forever from the world."
"All the more reason we should not falter or grow overcautious now, Lady," said Elrond. "Think back to the Elder Days, when we fought Morgoth in Thangorodrim. We were cautious then, and it availed us naught. Only the rash courage and bold attack of the Man, Beren One-Hand, brought us the mastery at last. If he had not risked all in the tunnels of Thangorodrim and again in crossing the Shadows, we might all be freezing yet in the icy wastes of Angband, and facing a far greater foe."
Galadriel nodded. "Sauron was then but a servant of Melkor the Morgoth. Alas! Would we had caught him then in the wrack of Thangorodrim and cast him out with his master. Little did we imagine then the evil that would come from the escape of that poor broken wretch."
She sighed. "Yes, my friends, you are no doubt correct. We are only finishing a task that was begun long ago. We must see it through to the bitter end, no matter the danger. We must cleanse the world of the last shadow of Morgoth."
"It is well," said Isildur. "Now it is growing late and we must away to our rest. The council is on the morrow and there much will be revealed. Until then, I bid all of you good night." They separated then, Isildur to his sleep, the Quendi to that pensive silence that serves them for slumber.
The night, being midyear's eve, passed swiftly, and the first cock-crow found Amroth high in the tower above the Dome of Stars. He sat in rest, pondering the stars now fading in the rising glow of the sun as she crept above the Ephel Dúath. Their fading beauty, finally overwhelmed in the harsh glow of the advancing sun, brought to his mind the inevitable fading of the Quendi as they are replaced by the more earthly Atani. Sighing deeply, he rose and looked out over the vast city of Men as it awoke.
Far below him on the battlement he saw Celeborn and Galadriel walking slowly together, as they have for so many thousands of nights. He wondered what thoughts they shared on this eve of a great battle that could mean the end of all for which they have labored over the ages. If anyone truly knew the terrible danger they were now in, it was they. If Nenya were destroyed, the Golden Wood, their city of Caras Galadon, all of Lothlórien would quickly fade and die. And how each must fear for the other as they go into battle together. The love they share had become ever more legendary as the long ages passed. Amroth tried to imagine his feelings if he knew his beloved Nimrodel were riding into battle beside him.
Seeing the people of the city beginning to stir, he descended the tower. He found Cirdan in the chamber of the palantír, looking through it to the stone in the Emyn Beraid, and from thence to the distant towers of Eldamar, whence they would all one day return. They went together to the dining hall, where they found Elrond and Gildor Inglorion and the Lord and Lady already at table. They spoke little to one another, each lost in his own thoughts.