#Celeborn and Galathil

[carmisse]

Of the reunion in Valinor.

Celeborn : So, who is this guy you're dating?

Maeglin : Oh valar, are you serious?

Thranduil : Very seriously, we must know who is courting with our little cousin.

Maeglin : ...

Galathil : Spoiler alert, he is a Fëanorian.

Celeborn and Thranduil : What!?

Celebrimbor, entering the room at a moment's notice : Hey babe, I need your help with some things in the forg-.

Celeborn : Tyelpë!?

Thranduil : oh, that Fëanorian. Honestly you could have done worse.

Celebrimbor : I beg your pardon?

Galathil : You are forgiven boy.

Celeborn : I think my blood pressure is low, I need to sit down.

[polutrope]

For the mother's day prompts: Nimloth and her mama? Any age, any stage. What's in your headcanon box? 🙂

It was easy for Nimloth to choose Ossiriand, the homeland of her mother. Thither had Deilwidh led her often, to visit her tree-dwelling kinsfolk in the land of whispering reeds. For Deilwidh had not been afraid, as others of her people were, to step beyond the circle of Melian’s protection.

Nimloth was not afraid when her heart leapt towards the King's grandchild, who was then a modest son of the riverlands overawed by his first sight of the realm that was his inheritance.

It was easy to choose Dior, and to forsake the forest where she passed years wanting for nothing and yet ever unfulfilled, awaiting she knew not what. For she knew, then, and could not but smile when she parted from her mother, her closest companion, to take up a new life.

But as unhappy chance leads her back to Menegroth as Queen of a diminished people, she wishes she had known, for all it would change nothing, that Deilwidh’s parting kiss pressed to her temple would be the last.

[pengumi12]

Thingol's Family (and others)

[ladysternchen]

(I just realised I forgot posting the previous chapter, so here's that as well) Excerpt:

She was torn out of her musings by a sound that might not have registered even with wild animals- but she registered, and decided that it was finally enough.

“Alright, I have had it. Come out! I know you have been following me for days, almost from Menegroth!”

As her cousins (well, cousin’s sons, to be precise, but Lúthien never was) slunk out from behind a tree, she smiled in spite of herself. They both looked like they were children  again, caught in mischief-making back in the years of peaceful bliss. They should have followed Círdan to the Falas, like their mother and grandparents, but apparently, the brothers had had other plans.

“So? Are you going to tell me what you are up to? Or are you planning on just standing there staring at me?”

Galathil scowled, which made Lúthien’s smile turned into chuckling. Grown elf-lord as he was by now, Galathil still looked exactly like he had done as an elfling when wearing that expression. Celeborn on the other hand did not scowl, instead saying softly:  “We, too, have a father to revenge, Lúthien.” “It is not…”

“We also would like to help you avenge what they did to Elu. Not that our pain can be compared to yours, but we dearly loved him as well.” Lúthien stared at them, suddenly having to swallow hard, all mirth wiped out in an instant.

“What about your grandparents?” she asked tonelessly once she had regained the ability to speak.

“They followed Círdan.”

Lúthien sighed in relief, glad her aunt and uncle at least were as safe as they could be.

“And your mother? Oropher?”

“Nana chose the havens, too. Oropher went east together with Amdir with as many as they could gather. ’twas a bitter farewell.”

That Lúthien could vividly imagine, as Oropher and his sister had ever been very close. And still her heart rejoiced in the fact that at least her cousin’s wife was not lost to her.

“And so you two decided to become my annoying shadows?”

The brothers nodded in unison, seeming more like children than ever before, which drew a wry smile from Lúthien’s lips once again.

“Fine then. Where to shall we…” 

She broke off, frowning, gesturing her cousins to hide. She could hear people near-by, chatting, singing, plainly not making any effort to remain hidden. Also, they spoke a language strange to her, though she had been taught enough of the ancient tongue to understand a word here and there. So the West was where those two wanderers came from. They had heard word of the Noldor in Menegroth, and then again from Círdan, who owed them the freedom of his cities and their inhabitants. But Lúthien also remembered her mother’s wariness towards them, and deemed it wise to handle them with such.

[ladywithaquill]

The Great Journey

A story about Elmo and his partner. After the journey to Aman, they settled in Alqualondë. Then first kinslaying happened and Elmo's partner had to return to Middle-earth.

I've established this HC for Oropher, Thranduil's father. Now our favorite Elvenking has a grandfather too.

Read it on AO3

[camille-lachenille]

Tolkien Family Trees Time™️ bc I love this kind of rabbit holes!

Celeborn’s father is Galadhon, son of Elmo and nephew of Thingol himself. That makes Celeborn Lúthien first cousin once removed, and now I kinda want stories about Galadhon growing up with Lúthien and them doing mischief together!

Anyways, back to Celeborn’s family! His mother, in the grand tradition of the Legendarium, isn’t named, but that only leaves us the space to create lovely OCs!

His brother Galathil is Nimloth’s father, making him Elwing’s maternal grandfather. Celeborn’s Elwing and Eluréd and Elurín’s great-uncle but at this point in time he and Galadriel had already left Doriath so I don’t think he ever met them.

And that makes Celeborn Elrond’s great-grand uncle by blood, as well as his father-in-law. Yay, Elven family trees make no sense!

On the other side of his family, Celeborn’s Olwë nephew and Galadriel’s second cousin. She’s of equivalent rank and close enough kin to be welcomed in the family I think but not *too* close as to make their marriage uncomfortably close in blood.

Anyways, here’s a terrible sketch of Celeborn’s family tree that should include everyone important.

And regarding Celebrían in Valinor, she most certainly has an uncle there, and maybe a cousin if Nimloth ever re-embodied. And Galathil being the youngest brother in some versions, I think he’d be delighted to tell Celebrían all the embarrassing stories about Celeborn. Like the time he first met Galadriel and made a fool of himself. Or some childhood mischief.

Since we only ever see Celebrian meeting Galadriels side of the family in Aman, I want stories where she meets Celeborns family. Surely there must be at least some of them in the 3rd age, and at least one of them ready to embarass Celeborn. (And also offer Celebrian a chance to escape Tirion high society for a short while.)

There need to be more stories about celeborn's family, yes!!!! Just "kin of thingol" doesn't cut it. I want to know about his mother and father and maybe even siblings!!!!

Do they think that thingol is a fool for fucking w melian? Good? Did they go West? Did they die? Did they hide away in Beleriand and later middle earth? There are so many questions about them and things to explore.

How do they think about Galadriel? Do they like her? Think her a snob? A knowitall? Not good enough for their little Celeborn? Just right? Would they be surprised by Galadriel as a choice of partner when they thought he's go for someone with a completely different character?

SO MUCH POTENTIAL

[cottoncandiescupcakes]

Just found out Celeborn has a younger brother named Galathil

That poor soul is probably so fragile he's kept in a glass box like Snow White

Be safe out there

Also Galadriel has two other older brothers that are still alive??

[carmisse]

The Elmo House.

Okay but one headcanon that my head has developed is the following; Celeborn and Galathil are cousins of Thranduil and Maeglin.

They are grandsons of Elmo, who had as sons Galadhon, Oropher and Eöl. They belong to the elven nobility of Doriath.

Galadhon, Oropher and Eöl were in fact close, although the youngest of them used to move away a little from his two older brothers to the point of going as far as Nan Elmoth where he finally settled and betrothed (spell) Lady Aredhel years later. This act was not consented by his brothers, widening even more the abyss between them. However, this does not prevent them from visiting their nephew accompanied by their own children, because Eöl is reluctant to leave home, they do not really comment on the subject because they want to avoid arguing and just look at the baby (Lómion) and keep Aredhel company.

Celeborn, Galathil and Thranduil wish to see the new baby as well as their uncle whom they say they miss. Lómion is extremely sweet as well as small, besides having the dark hair inherited from his mother, which in their eyes makes him even more special as it is a strange color among the elves of Doriath.

As time goes by. Only Celeborn and Thranduil visit Nan Elmoth. Not often but they try to do it near the onomastic of Lómion, being that the twelfth he already had the name Maeglin which turned out to be a pleasant surprise.

However, the meetings diminished when Celeborn married Galadriel while fulfilling an active duty in the court of Thingol.

Thranduil, on the other hand, began to form like his father. With this they also reluctantly distance themselves, Galathil still frequents them both however.

Thranduil was in with the refugees of Doriath, Celeborn was visiting him when Galadriel informs them of the fall of Gondolin and the death of Lómion. They both look at each other and soon after Galathil arrives.

They have lost too much if it, Doriath was destroyed, Elmo and Galadhon himself are dead, even Thingol was no more. They know the pain, but still they are unable to deal with the pressure in their chests as they shed tears for their little cousin whom they unwillingly stopped visiting.

That night turns out to be colder for them. They gaze at the stars as they recall their few memories they have with Lómion, his sweet smile as well as his born curiosity. He may be the traitor of the great Gondolin, but in their eyes, he was nothing more than the elfing they left behind.

[amethysttribble]

“He resembles Princess Luthien greatly,” Oropher said and Celeborn stiffened on instinct.

He side-eyed his kinsman, bracing for the impact of whatever came next. Oropher never made idle comments. Oropher epecially never made idle comments to him, not without the direct intention of starting a fight.

Celeborn hoped this wasn’t intended to be a fight. He’d promised Gil-galad, and more importantly, Galadriel, that they wouldn’t so much as bicker tonight. They were supposed to stand next to one another in solidarity and pretend like the High Council of Lindon wasn’t fracturing at the seams and about to fall apart, the direct consequence of Oropher’s words and desires and pride.

But right now, Oropher at least wasn’t speaking of their king- ‘I don’t remember choosing him, do you think you speak for all of us?’- but of the one standing next to him on the ballroom dais. Of perhaps the one person whose name and presence between them was just as, if not more, incendiary than Gil-galad’s. Poor Elrond.

“He does,” Celeborn replied mildly, biting his tongue before he could ask why Oropher was bringing this up now. It wasn’t like he’d never seen the young lord- no longer a boy, not a child by any race’s measure, though it was hard to remember- before. It wasn’t like they all didn’t meet and talk often enough.

“More than either Elwing or Earendil. Or her.”

And, ah. There it was.

“True enough,” Celeborn said, and he wasn’t sure if Oropher wanted him to agree or not, but he wasn’t going to lie.

Elrond took greatly after dear Aunt Luthien. In some lights it was slightly nerve wracking.

Oropher crossed his arms rather than reply immediately, his face closed off. Not stony or hard like at council meetings, but his thoughts and feelings were far away from any observer. He actually looked like the lord they pretended he was, rather than the rogue marchwarden he actually was; regal. When Oropher looked like that he reminded Celeborn of Galathil.

He looked away.

“I think, in the details though, they are more present. His cheeks, for example-“

“And it’s funny,” Oropher said, and he even huffed a very sad laugh, trying and failing to make it sound like he actually was joking. The two of them hadn’t shared a joke since… since.

Celeborn certainly wasn’t laughing. He closed his eyes and swallowed his annoyance at being interrupted. He knew Oropher did it on purpose, perpetually the preteen at his brother’s table delighting in ribald and shock.

And there were his words to consider.

“El-Elwing didn’t really take after Luthien very much.”

She didn’t. She’d taken after the person whose presence hung between Oropher and Celeborn like the unlight of Ungoliant, sucking the air out of the room. Which was a horrible legacy for someone they both loved so much, but grief did strange things to already strained relationships.

“I keep asking myself if there’s something about Earendil I’m forgetting.” Oropher was rambling now, highly uncharacteristic. Celeborn drew in a long breath and re-centered himself in anticipation for wherever this was headed. “Has Galadriel said anything about a resemblance to anyone in her family?”

Celeborn raised an eyebrow, but Oropher wouldn’t look at him. His eyes were locked somewhere past Elrond’s head. Hopefully he hadn’t noticed.

But Oropher acknowledging Galadriel’s family, Earendil’s family willingly?

Oropher had always seemed to operate under some purposeful mental dissonance, wherein he forced himself to think of Galadriel as some Telerin princess who had mystically made her way across the sea alone and by sheer force of will. And Earendil? He might as well have been prince to some lost, entirely independent Elven kingdom- not Sindar, not Laiquendi, certainly not Noldor- for how Oropher acted, for the most part.

He’d slipped in an argument about Gil-galad once when he shouted that, ‘Earendil was the only Noldo I would have ever had for my king and he’s gone!’

“She’s never made any special mention of a resemblance,” Celeborn said carefully. He didn’t want to call attention to the… mannerisms picked up from certain half-cousins that Galadriel had noticed. That wasn’t a resemblance, after all. “Why?”

“No particular reason,” he said, though it was becoming clear that there was a very particular reason, “just, many remark that his brother took after Earendil and I never saw it, so I-“

“I always thought Elros more so resembled Dior.”

Oropher’s head snapped over to finally look at him. He nodded, slow and low, not even slightly upset at being interrupted.

“Yes, I thought the same,” he said. “Funny that. Identical twins, but it’s in the- the bearing. Who they take after. Luthien and Dior.”

Celeborn fought off the shudder that threatened the shake him, to make him crack and crumble under the weight of the thing between him and Oropher that would never go away. He actually looked Oropher in the eye, and in that faraway gaze, this time he saw the same weakness.

“How much have you had to drink this evening?” Celeborn asked.

Oropher shrugged casually, with one shoulder, and that was plenty of answer. Surely he couldn’t be as drunk as either the time Celeborn found his and his friends deep into Galathil’s liquor cabinet or the night they drank themselves into a state in Sirion after… after. Still.

“That’s very unbecoming.”

“You see it though, right?” Oropher said, voice still uncharacteristically even, but when they met eyes…

He was such a weepy drunk.

“Elwing and Earendil’s boys, they carry themselves well,” he said, voice bitter as could be. “Beautiful, kind, clever, magnetic, the both of them. Princess Luthien’s wildness is in Elrond, and Dior’s wonder at the world is in Elros. They stand so tall. And, yes, you’re right, Elwing and Earendil are there in the margins, but there’s also- also them. And so much space is taken up, our- Lothig is eaten whole.”

Hearing Nimloth’s childhood nickname come out of Oropher’s mouth was like being stabbed. There was no more air. Just like that, Celeborn was drowning.

“You should be proud,” he hissed back, trying to keep his head above water. “That is a fine legacy to resemble, our princess, our king. We loved them as well. At least, I did.”

Oropher wasn’t listening. He never did.

“Do you think any of these people-“ he swept his arm out to gesture at the entire room, the entirety of Lindon’s court; Noldor, Sindar, Nandor, Men and Dwarves in the margins, and one peredhil. “-care that they killed her?”

“Don’t put that on him,” Celeborn snapped quietly, “he doesn’t owe you grief for someone he never knew-“

“I don’t care what Elrond feels, I can’t even look at him,” Oropher spat out, every word sounding pained, and there was torment in his whisper quiet voice.

That whisper, more than anything, tipped Celeborn off to the fact that this conversation wasn’t just one of their drunken spats about trading blame.

“I would have raised that boy like we raised his mother and your brother raised me,” Oropher said, “but that didn’t happen, and I can’t look at him. He looks like Luthien. His brother looks like Dior. And that’s a wonderful thing for everyone else in this room, isn’t it? That’s hope. The beautiful king taken too soon reborn and the Nightengale who stole her happy ending walking among us, and that’s such a lovely end to this tale for them. But what about for us, Celeborn?”

For Celeborn? Celeborn was shaking with the effort it was taking to keep his breathing even. Galadriel touched the edge of his fea to ask if he was okay. He gently pushed her away.

Oropher was right about one thing, this was about their family; about Doriath and Menegorth and being the last two members of Thingol’s inner court on this shore.

Eru Iluvatar, how did it end up being them? Just a pair of hot-headed youths with the weight an entire dead kingdom on their shoulders.

“Gondolin and Nargothrond are gone too,” he replied, the words dull even to his ears. “Hithlum and Dorthonion, half of Ossiriand, and even Himlad and Thargelion. It’s about building something new for all of us. Hope is not a bad thing.”

“It’s different for us.”

Yes. It was. Because Doriath and Sirion need not have fallen like that, and the monsters who took their homes and their loved ones from them weren’t even defeated. They faded, sad and pathetic and allowed to escape by everyone and everything but their prize, and there was no catharsis in that.

And in this kingdom they spoke Sindarin, but they took a Noldorin king who ruled through Noldorin traditions- with a few of Cirdan’s lessons thrown in there- in a city built by Noldorin hands. After his death, Thingol had lost his war of cultural influence. Badly.

“No one here remembers her but us, Celeborn,” Oropher urged. “They remember our heroes and our most tantalizing tragedies, but they don’t remember her. They don’t see her. She’s just one more dead wife and mother, if they get that far, but not a cousin, a niece-“

“Enough, Oropher.”

“-an astrologist, a troublemaker, a queen, a girl who was so scared of being outshined-“

“Oropher!” Celeborn snapped, more harshly than he meant to. It made Oropher stop long enough that he could put a hand on his shoulder, though.

“Oropher, you’re weeping.”

He blinked harshly, then brought up a hand to wipe at his cheek. When he pulled away, Celeborn could see how wet the palm was. Oropher glared at the remnant of his tears like they’d personally offended him.

He muttered, half to himself, “Surely you can’t keep living like this. Ignoring what was done to us because it’s awkward and inconvenient for the new age they’re building.”

Could he? Celeborn didn’t know. He was trying. Galadriel was trying; she had as many wounds as him she was trying to swallow for the sake of something new and bright. But it was hard. Lindon made Celeborn feel old, somehow. But with Oropher he was always just a boy again, strutting around Menegroth, trying to make his place, being too loud and too proud and too sure of himself.

Perhaps that was part of why they couldn’t stop fighting. Always just boys when together. And those boys, they had a few things in common.

Doriath, Galathil, and Nimloth were in Oropher. And when Oropher looked at him, those same things were in Celeborn. There was no place for those things in this new world.

Because Doriath, Galathil, and Nimloth were forever gone on this shore. Oropher needed to realize that. Not matter how much it fucking hurt.

“Go to bed, Oropher,” Celeborn told him softly. “You’re drunk and emotional. You’ll embarrass your son. He’s one of those young people looking for something new. Something hopeful.”

And when they looked back towards Gil-galad’s dais and the youths surrounding him, there was Thranduil, charming smile on his face, making Elrond toss his head back and laugh. If anyone took after Nimloth, it was him; her mother and Oropher’s had been identical twins.

Celeborn’s hand was suddenly colder and hanging in the air. He turned back to the kid who showed up one day and took so much of his older brother’s attention and who he’d never forgiven for that small slight. Oropher was composed and looking like Galathil once more.

“I hate that you’re right,” he whispered. “And he probably needs me to be better than this. But I can’t be better here.”

And he left.

The next week, Oropher would formally announce his intention to travel east and settle there, alongside anyone who would join him. Celeborn, to the surprise of every other council member but Galadriel, raised no objection. Very briefly, the thought crossed his mind to join Oropher.

But that desire faded quickly. The envy didn’t, though, not for many, many years.

Not until the day he planted a little silver tree in Lothlorien.

[conundrumoftime]

Galadriel and Celeborn in earlier drafts of LOTR (part 1)

Since Twitter is getting closer to unusable I'm going to try to collect up more of my various scattered-thought meta-y threads from there into more coherent form on here. So first off: Galadriel's first appearance in Tolkien's early drafts of LOTR, and what I find so interesting about it! (This is all from The Treason of Isengard, the seventh book in the History of Middle-earth series.)

Beginning by throwing in this delightful little footnote in which Tolkien considered making Galadriel x Elrond canon :)

A second rejected note was written at some time later against Haldir's words 'they bring me a message from the Lord and Lady of the Galadrim': Lord? If Galadriel is alone and is wife of Elrond.

Anyway!

So this is the earliest appearance of Galadriel in any of Tolkien's writings, and Tolkien's writing process and approach to his whole mythology and the characters within it is so evident from the way he so clearly creates her, looks at what he's created, and thinks "oh she's got to be important" and then starts to weave her into all the earlier First and Second-Age stories.

As the notes and drafts of the Lothlorien chapters evolve Galadriel's role becomes more important and Celeborn's less. Some of the lines she gets in LOTR were his in earlier drafts, eg "your quest is known to us, but we will not speak of it openly"; Christopher Tolkien's notes say of one change that Galadriel ‘expresses the opinion previously given to Keleborn, and more decisively’. (It's funny to me in this context that the line Celeborn is best known for after the films, the "where is Gandalf" one, is Galadriel's in the book.)

Intriguingly the Mirror is in the earlier drafts & notes Celeborn's - it first appears as the 'Mirror of King Galdaran' (an earlier name for him) - and he's apparently the one who tells Frodo and Sam what it shows. Then it's his mirror, but she's the one who uses it; then finally it's just hers.

The earlier draft of their introduction:

On two seats at the further end [of the room] sat side by side the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien. They looked tall even as they sat, and their hair was white and long. They said no word and moved not, but their eyes were shining.

Compared to the LOTR version:

On two chairs beneath the bole of the tree and canopied by a living bough there sat, side by side, Celeborn and Galadriel. They stood up to greet their guests, after the manner of Elves, even those who were accounted mighty kings. Very tall they were, and the Lady no less tall than the Lord; and they were grave and beautiful. They were clad wholly in white; and the hair of the Lady was of deep gold, and the hair of the Lord Celeborn was of silver long and bright; but no sign of age was upon them, unless it was in the depths of their eyes; for these were keen as lances in the starlight, and yet profound, the wells of deep memory.

That draft names them as 'Keleborn and Galadriel', but JRRT's earlier notes give other names: Tar and Finduilas -> Aran and Rhien -> Galdaran and Galdri(e)n -> Galathir and Galadhrien. Celeborn also appears randomly as 'Arafain' at one point. (Interesting that Tolkien dropped the Gal- entirely from Celeborn's name in the end but named his brother 'Galathil'; in my head they're twins.)

In this early draft Celeborn also has quite a detached and thoughtful approach to the news of the Balrog in Moria, compared to his eventual dialogue in LOTR which reads more like "the dwarves woke up a fucking what?"

Early draft:

“Tell me the full tale,' said Keleborn. Ingold [= Aragorn] then recounted all that had happened upon the pass of Caradras and afterwards; and he spoke of Balin and his book and the fight in the Chamber of Mazarbul, and the fire, and the narrow bridge, and the coming of the Balrog. 'A Balrog!' said Keleborn. "Not since the Elder Days have I heard that a Balrog was loose upon the world. Some we have thought are perhaps hidden in Mordor [?or] near the Mountain of Fire, but naught has been seen of them since the Great Battle and the fall of Thangorodrim. I doubt much if this Balrog has lain hid in the Misty Mountains - and I fear rather that he was sent by Sauron from Orodruin, the Mountain of Fire."

and LOTR:

'I saw Durin's Bane,' said Gimli in a low voice, and dread was in his eyes. 'Alas!' said Celeborn. 'We long have feared that under Caradhras a terror slept. But had I known that the Dwarves had stirred up this evil in Moria again, I would have forbidden you to pass the northern borders, you and all that went with you. And if it were possible, one would say that at the last Gandalf fell from wisdom into folly, going needlessly into the net of Moria.' 'He would be rash indeed that said that thing,' said Galadriel gravely.

Both versions have Galadriel's giving a similar-ish description of who they are and how she knows Gandalf, but you can see how much more significant her role in the events of the Third Age has become by the final LOTR version:

Early draft:

'Your quest is known to me,' said Galadriel, [?seeing] Frodo's look, 'though we will not here speak more openly of it. I was at the White Council, and of all those there gathered none did I love more than Gandalf the Grey. Often have we met since and spoken of many things and purposes.'

LOTR:

'Your quest is known to us,' said Galadriel, looking at Frodo. 'But we will not here speak of it more openly [...] I it was who first summoned the White Council. And if my designs had not gone amiss, it would have been governed by Gandalf the Grey, and then mayhap things would have gone otherwise.'

Her description of who she and Celeborn are, coming right after this, is also interesting to compare.

Early draft:

The lord and lady of Lothlorien are accounted wise beyond the measure of the Elves of Middle-earth, and of all who have not passed beyond the Seas. For we have dwelt here since the Mountains were reared and the Sun was young.

LOTR:

For the Lord of the Galadhrim is accounted the wisest of the Elves of Middle-earth, and a giver of gifts beyond the power of kings. He has dwelt in the West since the days of dawn, and I have dwelt with him years uncounted; for ere the fall of Nargothrond or Gondolin I passed over the mountains, and together through ages of the world we have fought the long defeat.

Some things I find interesting about this:

the implication that they are both Noldor in this earliest version;

the change from both of them being accounted 'wise' to just him, lol Galadriel what happened here;

'a giver of gifts beyond the power of kings', especially reading this in the context of the Unfinished Tales versions of their 2nd Age story where they knew Sauron as Annatar, Lord of Gifts; sometimes you just get these intriguing insights into their marriage is what I'm saying.

this note!

An addition to the manuscript after the words 'for we have dwelt here since the mountains were reared and the sun was young' reads: 'And I have dwelt here with him since days of dawn, when I passed over the seas with Melian of Valinor, and together we have fought the long defeat.

This is definitely written after Tolkien had created the idea of the rebellion of the Noldor and of Melian and Thingol. So having Galadriel come to Middle-earth before the rebellion, with Melian, is presumably a way to separate her from being one of the exiles, in a way Tolkien later returned to with his very late conceptions of Galadriel and Teleri Celeborn setting out for Middle-earth separately. But I am so fascinated by the idea that this version of Galadriel just upped and left Valinor, along with one of the Maiar, because she... fancied a change?

Doubly fascinating to me if Tolkien was already thinking of Celeborn as Sindar in that version, because that means both Melian and Galadriel married Sindar royalty after coming to Middle-earth. And Melian's husband fell in love with her and got enchanted by her presence enough that he stayed in place for two hundred years as the forest grew up around him and caused all his people to abandon their journey to Valinor while they searched for him. The idea of Galadriel watching this La Belle Dame Sans Merci type of fairy tale unfold before her and then deciding she wants one too feels both somewhat terrifying and also like the sort of thing she might do.

Anyway, leaving this here for now because I have some fanfic to write and it's getting long enough already. Next time: Rings and the Mirror!

Part 2 is here

[ladysternchen]

Yet Were Its Making Good, For This- The Truth

“Go now.” 

The King’s voice was deadly calm, and Mablung could not blame Finrod and Angrod for wincing. He himself could not recall having ever seen Elu so angry, but that hardly mattered now, anyway. He felt empty, bereaved, betrayed. True, he had ever sensed that some secret was hidden there, but he could never have imagined it being something as horrible as this. 

Had he not, at Fingolfin’s feast, sat at the table with the sons of Fëanor and how many others who had robbed and slaughtered his kin? How could any of them have looked him in the eye? Had he not seemed important enough for them to consider that he, too, had kin there in Alqualondë? Had they even bothered to think about it? There they had sat in their colourful robes, behaving towards Daeron and him and even Círdan like they were the kindly teachers of ignorant children, while they had all carried that secret within their hearts.

Had they slain Mablung’s own family, also? The icy fist of dread closed around his heart at this thought. You do not know that, he reminded himself, it might well be that your parents and sisters are safe. But deep within his heart he knew that this was an empty hope, for even if they had escaped the battle, they could not have escaped the terror it brought upon all their people. Mablung could hardly bear to think of them now. It had been he who had remained behind, him about whom his family had worried at their parting. Never would he have dreamed of harm coming to them instead. They had thought they were heading to eternal safety.

And Olwë… hehad thought he was leading his people to a life free of the terrors of the Shadow, only to be assailed by their friends. By Finwë’s sons- the children of his brother’s dearest friend. And, Mablung realised with a new streak of horror, by the family of his daughter. How could Olwë live with that grief?

It took little imagination to go from that to guessing how Elu must feel about the kinslaying… not only were these originally his people, he must also feel that Olwë had shouldered hisburden, that this terror should really have come to him instead. And knowing Elu, that knowledge would weigh almost as heavy as his grief. He had always been determined to protect his brothers from all evil after all. 

What would go on in the King's mind regarding the fact that the kinslaying had been done by Finwë’s sons, however, Mablung could not even try to guess. Elu and Finwë had been almost inseparable. True, had Finwë lived still, that might never have happened, for he was sure that Finwë would never have suffered his sons to draw swords on Olwë’s people. But Finwë lived not, and nor did now many of their friends and kin. 

Distantly, Mablung heard Elu talk, and he felt humbled. He knew not what he might have done had it fallen upon him to deal with the situation, but rather certainly not contained his wrath, keeping it from spilling over the bringers of such horrid tidings. Even so, Eärwen’s sons left the table with their heads bowed in sorrow, and Mablung willed his anger to cool and to pity them, as was his custom. They, he reminded himself, had lost kin there, also, only to be now drawn into that hideous crime themselves. They truly deserved compassion, not scorn, yet Mablung could not at the moment bring himself to that emotion. 

Slowly, the company dissolved, all of Menegroth buzzing with the news. Elu stood with his forehead leaned against Melian’s shoulder, and the Queen stroked his back gently, her face filled with sorrow. Lúthien seemed livid, but also somehow subdued by her father’s grief and anger, and as Melian lead Elu away quietly, Lúthien followed her parents like a shadow.

At length, Mablung found himself beside Elmo, who stood together with his grandsons and Galadriel, who all looked stricken.

“Why ban their language, though?” Galathil asked heatedly, and Mablung wondered if he was speaking on behalf of his sister-in-law. Elmo rolled his eyes.

“Who knows what’s going on in my brother’s fair head at such times. Don’t ask me, I’m at a loss.” 

Elmo had a knack of growing sarcastic when very moved by some uncomfortable emotion, but Mablung still had to work hard to bite back a very unbefitting comment. Before he could re-phrase what he wanted to say into fairer words, however, Galadriel spoke. She had not spoken a word since the King had confronted her brothers at the feast, and only silently watched them leave, her expression unreadable. All the more surprising her words were now.

“They deserve it. Or they would, if they bothered to understand. But they won’t, I know them and their hearts much better than I’d like to admit. ’twas a weak move. Elu should have asked for the Fëanorian’s heads as weregild, that is the only thing they actually get. I’d have seen to it myself, had Olwë not held me back, and I would gladly do so now.”

The assembled ellyn all looked at her in dismay. All safe Celeborn, who laid a pacifying hand on his wife’s shoulder.

“Taking even more lives will not bring the swanships back to Olwë’s haven, nor return those slain to their bodies, nor avenge the betrayal of your kin by your kin, beloved.”

Wise he is already, Mablung thought, looking appreciatively at Celeborn. Wise, and also gentle and loving. Galadhon would surly have been very proud of him now. Yet Celeborn’s words also made Mablung wonder if Galadriel had let anything slip at all. If she had, how had Celeborn managed to keep quiet, to leave all his kin and friends in the dark about that atrocity? And if she had not, how could he be so calm now, how could he not see it as a betrayal of trust? What ever was the truth, Mablung deeply admired the depth of their bond.

“What a mess.” Elmo sighed, covering his eyes with his hand for a moment. “I really should find Elu and hear his reasoning and also… well. I think Olwë would expect us to draw together and pity him united rather than having me question Elu’s decisions.”

“He surly would.” Galadriel agreed tonelessly.

Elmo bid them goodbye and left, and Mablung watched him go with his heart heavier than it had been all evening. How could such a crime ever be forgotten? How could such evil be endured?

In hindsight, Mablung laughed openly about those feelings, a cold and mirthless laugh. Had anyone told him then, as he stood there below Menelrond with his heart aching so horribly, that within a few short centuries the kinslaying would seem almost like a trifle compared with the grieves that were to come, he would not have believed it possible.

[theneverfadinglands]

Theoretical Noldorin Hair Colour Genetics

Hello, long time no see. I was busy studying, I hope it would make Fëanor proud. Perhaps he would be displeased with my grades but he may find my baby research work at least a little bity interesting. However I might at least put my biology degree to some use, so I did this hair colour inheritance chart. Fëanor and Nerdanel are straightforward and easy to conclude, there is only some doubt about the genotypes of Caranthir, Curufin and Maglor. It is possible for them to be both Mr and Mc genotype. But it creates interesting possibility, Celebrimbor as rc – red hair. I think red-haired Celebrimbor is my new favorite Celebrimbor. His mother would have to be cc – silver haired Teleri/Sindar.

Some difficulties arrose in the Finarfin's family tree. Finarfin himself must be Lc – golden haired heterozygot, because Finwë can be only Mc (which also creates this alternative possibility for cc Fëanor, but it would change the colours of all his offspring's hair to silver or red). Eärwen should have golden hair herself, because then it is:

F1: Lc x Lc

F2: 1LL : 2Lc : 1cc

fenotype: 3 gold, 1 silver

If Finafrin is Lc and Eärwen cc then

F1: Lc x cc

F2: 2Lc : 2cc

fenotype: 2 gold, 2 silver

I came to the conclusion that Eärwen has gold hair.

Another interesting thing I found out is the fact that if Elrond and Celebrián have had more children they might get a surpirse blonde or silver haired child, because Elrodn is either Mc or ML if Nimloth is cc. Which I assumed since her father is Galathil, brother of Celeborn. Although there is a possibility that Galathil is Mc, if his mother is Tatyar Avari descendant Mc, then Celeborn cc and Galathil Mc is plausible. Therefore Nimloth might be Mc or even MM.

I also added Gil-Galad. I think if he would be blond it would actually be interesting explanation for all of that parentage confussion. He might be considered Fingon's son, looking similar to him but with gold hair, which would be possible if Fingon is ML and mother is LL, Lc, cc, rc. So he might pass as Fingon's son, same for Orodreth who has blonde daughter. If Lalwen is ML and Círdan cc, then Gil-Galad might be Lc. If Lalwen is Mc then he might be Mc or cc, black or silver fenotype.

[gwaedhannen]

!!! celebrian in valinor fic!!! 👀👀👀

It probably won't be out for a while yet, since I still need to figure out what the heck I'm actually doing with it. Right now I just have pure angst. Which is fun! But I'd like to get to some healing eventually.

She cannot bear Gil-Galad, so altered by the release of his long burdens that she hardly recognizes his serenity. She cannot bear Celebrimbor, once her dearest friend, now forever overlaid by his dangling corpse and his accursed shackles binding her husband and her mother to his doom. She cannot bear noble grandmother Eärwen, who has never walked the far shore and known its inundating grief. She cannot bear kind grandfather Arafinwë, always with the correct words and actions to just for a moment, make her forget how marred she is. She cannot bear radiant uncle Finrod, for what are her scars against his? She cannot bear uncle Angaráto, nor aunt Eldalótë, nor cousin Orodreth, nor the absence where uncle Aegnor should be, for her story is of little note next to the tragedies and triumphs of their age. She cannot bear the dozens and hundreds of family, old friends, old acquaintances, well-wishers she has never known. “What a pity. What a pity. What a pity!” She doesn’t want to heal. She can’t heal. The scar tissue is all she is now, layer upon layer, down into the marrow. She should have stayed and persisted in that half-life among her true family. She should have faded into a memory of rain on silver glass. She should have laid herself down in Elladan’s gardens and let grief wash her to the Halls of Awaiting. She had to leave. She couldn’t let them bury her. Couldn’t let them see what she is. Queen of Ruination! Spoilt and turned, not even worth twisting into an orc. A footnote in a story nobody will ever read.

So it goes. Moping and wallowing in her deserved misery as the scars heal and start to fade. Until one day she looks up from the embroidery she is mangling and sees another footnote has seated herself across from her. “Hello, cousin,” says the once-Princess of Minas Tirith, of Nargothrond, of a sunken grave. “Gwindor and I have a third ticket to the Flinnrysc concert tonight. You’re coming along.”

Yes I know Celeborn has family too but shh, I'll think of how to integrate them later (and I'd need to come up with names for Galadhon and Galathil's wives).

[sotwk]

Hi, it took me sometimes to decide to write this ask because I didn’t want to bother you. Then I realised that if an author has requests open is because they like the input so here I am: I saw you write also Celebrian and Elrond they are one of my favourite couples, so I thought to try.

If I’m not mistaken you’ve set the death of the Elvenqueen after the attack on Celebrian (first time I read that my heart shattered), so I would like to know if you haven’t said already what was Thranduil and Maereth’s reaction to what happened or if Celebrian sensing the darkness that would arrive in ME asked her dear friend to accompany her to Aman or whatever you have in mind about their friendship, really. And if you are willing I would also love a little ff about their family.

I loved Cel appearance in your ff: sins of our fathers and how you set the premise of that.

Of course take your time, no pressure at all and even if you can’t don’t worry!

Lady Celebrían in the SotWK AU: the Elvenqueen's dearest friend

I love Celebrían too!!! She is my favorite female canon character in Lord of the Rings--at least the way I envision her in my mind, since we are actually not given a lot of specifics about the Lady of Imladris.

My admiration for sweet, gentle Celebrían factored in greatly in my decision to develop her as a significant supporting character in the SotWK AU:

Not only is she one of Maereth's most beloved friends, but they are blood-relations. Maereth's father Eärondir (oc) is the son of Círdan the Shipwright and Eäriel (oc). Eäriel is the daughter of one of the sons of Olwë, and therefore a first cousin of Galadriel's. This means Celebrían is Maereth's paternal second cousin, once removed. (They are also related through the line of Finwë, but that's a whole other calculation!)

As you read in "Sins of Our Fathers", Celebrían and Maereth were friends even before Maereth met Thranduil. Celebrían was one of Maereth's main confidants through the centuries she struggled with the decision of whether or not to accept Thranduil's affections. Let's just say, if maids of honor were a thing in Elvish weddings, Celebrían would be Maereth's, no contest.

Furthermore, Celebrían is closely related to Itarildë (oc), the eventual wife of Prince Mirion Thranduilion. Itarildë's mother, Nimeithel (oc), is the younger sister of Nimloth (Elwing's mother), daughter of Galathil (brother of Celeborn). This means Celebrían is Itarildë's maternal first cousin, once removed.

Confusingly complex family trees aside, I am just trying to drive home the point that Celebrían means a great deal to the Royal Family of Greenwood. Sure, Elrond and Thranduil eventually become great friends, but the love began with and was always strongest between their wives.

One funny SotWK HC is that while Thranduil and Elrond had serious discussions about betrothing their children to each other (Arwen with any Thranduilion of her choosing) in order to further bond their families, Maereth and Celebrían opposed this, insisting that all their children should have full freedom in choosing their partners.

SotWK Fancast: Connie Nielsen as Lady Celebrían; Jennifer Connelly as Elvenqueen Maereth

Now finally, to address your real question, Anon: How did Maereth and Thranduil react to the attack on Celebrían, and her eventual passing to Aman?

 The attack on Celebrían occurred in T.A. 2509, when things were starting to get really dire in Mirkwood. The Watchful Peace that Mirion had won through his death ended, and the Necromancer was rising again in greater force.

Itarildë’s mother, Nimeithel, was traveling with Celebrían through the Redhorn Pass, and died trying to defend her cousin from the Orcs. Witnessing this added to Celebrían's grief and torment.

As soon as they received word of her capture, Thranduil sent Gelir and Itarildë with a group of soldiers to help recover her. This was ultimately unnecessary since Elladan and Elrohir recovered their mother on their own, but it was a significant gesture from the Elvenking, whose military resources were already strained from Mirkwood's own battles against Dol Guldur.

When Celebrían was taken home to Imladris to be healed by Elrond, Maereth immediately traveled from Mirkwood to be with her. She also brought her son Arvellas, the best healer in their realm, to lend whatever aid he could. (Again unnecessary, but a sign that their family would spare no expense to help the Lady of Imladris.)

Maereth stayed with Celebrían in Imladris the whole time she struggled with her recovery. Although Maereth at first tried to plead with her friend to remain in Middle-earth, the loss of Mirion and her other family members (both her parents, all her siblings) allowed her to understand Celebrían's desire for peace and rest in the Blessed Realm.

I don't believe Celebrían tried to ask Maereth to come with her, especially when she could not convince her own family to do so. But Celebrían's words about the growing darkness affected Maereth greatly, and although she never spoke of it to Thranduil, it made her foresee that her own doom would be coming soon.

Not only did Maereth support Celebrían's decision to leave, but she accompanied her to the Grey Havens (remember that Círdan is her grandfather!) and was there to give her a last goodbye before she sailed.

They truly were bosom friends to the very end, and when Maereth died and was released from the Halls, Celebrían was most certainly there to welcome her.

Thank you Anon, for the opportunity to discuss my Celebrían headcanons! I promise she will make many more appearances in SotWK fanfics, especially when I start writing Elrond x Celebrían stories! <3

Bonus: My Celebrían fancast alongside Hugo Weaving's Elrond. (I think Connie Nielsen is stunning, and is a great match for Hugo!)

For more Thranduil/Mirkwood headcanons: SotWK HC Masterlist

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Other useful links:

Introduction to SotWK

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