#galadriel/celeborn

[superloves4]

“Nerdanel the wise” ”Celeborn the wise”

There’s something potentionally very funny here but I’m too tired to write it

[elronds-library]

Melody's Shards [WIP]

by sallysavestheday (@sallysavestheday)

Drabbles, double drabbles, triple drabbles, and six-sentence Tolkien ficlets from 2024 prompts. All 300 words or less. Updates periodically.

2. À la recherche du temps perdu (Fingon/Maedhros) 3. Snowdrops (Celeborn/Galadriel) 4. Surfacing (Finrod, Finarfin, Earwen) 5. Opposing Faces (Amras/OFC, Galadriel/Celeborn) 6. Drought (Maglor) 7. All Gone A-Maying (Maglor, Goldberry, Tom Bombadil) 8. Resurrection (Finrod) 9. Afterparty (Maedros/Fingon) 10. Howl (Finrod) 11. Awaiting Dagorath (Fingon) 12. A Treatise on Strategy (Celebrimbor and Celebrían) 13. A New Alliance (Fingolfin and Hador) 14. Crowned in Memory (Turgon, Idril, and Finrod) 15. Stage Fright (Tuor and Glorfindel) 16. In Those Dark Thickets (Eöl and Nan Elmoth) 17. Womp, Womp (Maglor) 18. Blend, Bond, Blaze (Fingon and Angrod and Aegnor) 19. Embellishments (Fingon and the Sons of Fëanor) 20. Turning Point (Maglor, Elros, Elrond) 21. Chase (Celegorm and Oromë) 22. Experimentation (Elwing/Eärendil) 23. Badger, Before (Finrod/Turgon) 24. Makeover (Gimli/Legolas) 25. Spice; Heat (Aegnor/Andreth) 26. Guessing Games (Éomer and Aragorn and Arwen) 27. Alloys (Finarfin/Eärwen) 28. A Stitch Out of Time (Caranthir and Gil-galad) 29. Metamorphosis (Lalwen) 30. Rencontre (Celegorm and Oromë) 31. Identity Politics (Elros and Maglor) 32. A Round Dance (Thranduil) 33. Cloudburst (Aredhel) 34. Accident of Fate (Fingon/Maedhros) 35. Of Hope and Feathers (Gimli and Legolas) 36. Foe-Hammer (Glorfindel and Gandalf) 37. A Reconciliation (Fingon/Maedhros) 38. Impending (Aegnor) 39. Groove (Gimli/Legolas)

Teen, No Archive Warnings

Words: 5,418

[searchingforserendipity25]

For the ship ask, Galadriel and Celeborn?

thank you nonnie <3

for galadriel/celeborn, oh boy, as much as i love a good dramatic reveal and consequent shattering and rebuilding of trust, i think celeborn, who is markedly distrustful, having the strangest certainty that the arawinfian princess is hiding something is really interesting. he courts her both as a political move, a way to find out what she's hiding, but of course he is wildly attracted to her.

they have incredible chemistry constantly. teasing and prickling exchanges veiled in politeness, a game of will, eyes on eyes while dancing, inevitably drawn back into each other's mouth as the music stops and lingers in the air....most importantly, galadriel is melian's apprentice, and is willing to go to extreme lenghts to make certain that does not stop.

her ambitions of a new kingdom of her own are challenged when she is actually living in the kingdom of doriath - she has to face the wild arrogance of her younger self's desires, the coldness and ruthlessness she has learned on the ice, the horrible isolation when separated from the tight-knitted culture of the host that made the crossing, the cultural differences, melian's many tasks and challenges to make her students prove themselves...

celeborn is far from her first priority, which is telling, because she is very aware he might be her ticket to queenship. but she fully wants to rule alone, at that time; her trust is very, very hard to come by, and it makes trusting her hard. cultural assimilation while being true to the identity she betrayed is a Lot for a young sorcerer's apprentice to keep up with, and lord celeborn's scrutiny is more of a hindrance (as are her feelings for him....)

celeborn's first love is always the land, galadriel's is knowledge. that is how they are happy. doriath loves him; doriath loves galadriel too, in time, but always celeborn best.

later on, they get together. later on, celeborn fades a little when beleriand dies, and galadriel flourishes in middle earth. it gets hard; it gets better. celebrían finally happens, only because they are certain of the safety they have built. later later on, they separate when celeborn refuses to cross moria to join his family - really, they break up during the whole eregion dispute, partly due to sauron's bad vibes infecting relationships as per melkor, partly relationship attrition building up.

get back together after the war, build lothlórien - plant it, more like, and whatever is said of him, celeborn is an excellent gardener, whispers to the seeds in their own languages, is beloved by ferns and wild grasses everywhere he goes. galadriel gets her kingdom and her king (less powerful than her), her defiance and her slow defeat, the ring that keeps summer alive and saps a little of her soul.

it's like, fine. they are old marrieds by then, speak more in mind than aloud, have started moving and even looking a little alike. far less so than most elvish couples married that long.

they are fully individual people, and celeborn's decision to stay in middle earth isn't a tragic end so much as the thing they both knew was always going to happen. celeborn sang the saplings to tallness, and it will be celeborn who sings them to the long sleep of winter; and then he, too, will lay down between their roots, and join his wandering spirit to theirs. and galadriel will diminish, in the west, and be galadriel only, as he named her; and he will come to her in dreams every night, and sometimes a slant of tall light heavy with the smell of summer and golden flowers comes to her. which is far better than death and sweeter than divorce, and really the ideal end to every marriage.

[vreenak]

THE FIRSTBORN MEME:

2/4 relationships: Celeborn/Galadriel

In the early First Age, Finrod and Galadriel came to Doriath as guests of Thingol. There, Celeborn and Galadriel met, fell in love, and were soon wedded.

[raointean]

I found a poem assigned in my American Lit class ("A Letter to Her Husband, Absent upon Public Employment" by Anne Bradstreet) that has SUCH strong Galadriel/Celeborn vibes! (RoP specifically, but it works for the Silm too) I just had to show you guys! (I've edited it a bit to make the parallels more obvious, but it's a really old poem, so you can probably just google the title to find the original.)

My head, my heart, mine Eyes, my life, nay more,

My joy, my warehouse of earthly store,

If two be one, as surely thou and I,

How stays thou away, whilst I 'cross Arda fly?

So many steps, head from the heart to sever

If but a neck, soon should we be together:

I, like the earth this season, mourn in black,

My Sun is gone so far in’s Zodiack,

Whom whilst I ’joy’d, nor storms, nor frosts I felt,

His warmth such frigid colds did cause to melt.

My chilled limbs now numbed lie forlorn;

Return, return sweet Sol, my Celeborn;

O strange effect! now thou art southward gone,

I weary grow, the tedious day so long;

But when thou northward to me shalt return,

I wish my Sun may never set, but burn

Within the summer of my glowing breast.

In your welcome house, I cannot rest,

I cannot stay, but go ever thence,

Till natures sad decree shall call thee hence;

Flesh of thy flesh, bone of thy bone,

I here, thou there, yet both but one.

[unavidas]

A young Celeborn and Galadriel, sometime during the first age

[sakasakiii]

elrond through the ages based on one glorious panel from chapter 95 of Black Butler (hopefully i got that right....). in the context of this sequence, i always thought it was sad to think abt how many people elrond has lost throughout his life alongside how remarkable he is to remain "as kind as summer" still by the time the hobbit rolls around 🥺

i redrew elrond's poses based on ciel's in the original panels BUT i forgot what page exactly the original panel sequence is... however!! if you scroll down to the middle half of this blog post you can find the original reference pic :D warning that it includes heavy spoilers for the black butler manga so u could just alternatively google 'ciel phantomhive running' and it'd probably be one of the first results that pop up haha

[afanofmanyhats]

One of my favorite things about Tolkien's writing is that he has a very specific, recurring trope. For lack of a better term, I'm dubbing this the Tolkien Wife-Guy.

This is mainly obvious in the Silmarillion, but Tolkien loves to write couples where the man is a notable individual- nobility, commits a great deed, or both- but the wife is at least equally notable, if not more beloved or powerful. Manwe is the king of the Valar and Eru's main representative in Arda? Everyone loves Varda more, and Melkor fears her more than his own brother. Elu Thingol is the king of the Silvan Elves? His wife is Melian, whose Girdle is the magic that keeps Morgoth's forces at bay. Beren is a chief among the Edain, who befriends animals and survives one of the most nightmarish places in Beleriand? His wife is Luthien.

Even in Lord of the Rings we see this occur, though the couples are on more even footing. Tom Bombadil is... Tom Bombadil, but Goldberry is the River-daughter, and Tom adores her above everything else, and the hobbits are completely taken in with her when she's their host. Similarly, while Celeborn is a mighty lord among Elves, Galadriel is one of the only Noldor in Middle-earth who saw the Two Trees, and her hair inspired Feanor to make the Silmarils, not to mention her own accomplishments in the war against Morgoth. Aragorn is the king of Gondor and Arnor, but Arwen is the Evenstar of the Elves, the descendant of three(?) different royal Elven lines. And Faramir becomes the Steward of Gondor and is one of the noblest men alive, but Eowyn killed the Witch-king, so you know. She got the grander moment for the saga.

But with (most) of these couples, we never get the impression that the man views his wife as Less-Than, or as a junior partner. Thingol is the main exception to this in how he dismisses Melian's counsel, and that's made out to be his foolishness within the text. Otherwise, Manwe treats Varda as his co-ruler, Beren never tries to downplay Luthien's achievements, and I'm pretty sure most of Tom Bombadil's dialogue is about how gorgeous Goldberry is. It's really sweet.

All of these examples really testify to how much Tolkien loved his wife. People rightly point to Beren and Luthien as the prime example of that, but I think you can find it in these other couples too. Even though Edith is mainly known to history as Mrs. Tolkien, it's evident to me that Jirt saw her as a whole person worthy of admiration outside of being his wife.

[cottoncandiescupcakes]

'Elves are gay'

Yes but NOTHING is as gay. I repeat, nothing is as gay as Celeborn chosing to not go to the undying lands WITH HIS WIFE GALADRIEL, who instead went with Elrond but instead

Get this

Deciding to hang out in the woods WITH KING THRANDUIL for literal years

Sorry but what. Your wife is like 'I am going to Valinor darling please join me so we can be reunited with our daughter. Elrond is also coming to be with his wife'

But he's like, sorry entire family, I'm going to hang out in the woods with King Thranduil to merge our Kingdoms together, not like through marrying our sons and daughters but just two middle-aged men frolicking in the meadows and then presumably leaving on the last ship to Valinor together

????????????????????????????? All the 'cheating' Galadriel did doesn't compare to this honestly that's fully insane lol also this is actually canon as in Tolkien wrote this

[dagordagorath]

17 January: The Fellowship arrives at Caras Galadhon

[velvet4510]

I don’t think any of us should ever overlook Celeborn’s love for Galadriel, because it’s really something.

Usually in Tolkien’s texts, it’s the girl following the guy. Lúthien followed Beren to Tol-in-Gaurhoth and Angband and later into death itself, Níniel followed Turambar to Cabed-en-Aras, Elwing followed Eärendil to Valinor, Éowyn followed Faramir to Ithilien, Arwen followed Aragorn to Gondor and later into death itself, etc. Not that this is a bad thing, not at all. (It should never be deemed disempowering for a woman to follow a man she loves and who loves her and treats her right, if that is her choice.) But overall, considering the wide variety of couples in Middle-earth, it does get repetitive sometimes.

Yet with these two, it’s the opposite. Celeborn always followed Galadriel.

When Galadriel departed Doriath, Celeborn went with her. He left all his kin behind to be with her. We don’t know for sure how his kin reacted to his relationship with a Noldo, but it could very well be that they eloped. She was just that important to him.

Then for the next 2 ages, they endured all sorts of trials and tribulations together across Middle-earth and eventually settled down in Lothlórien. There, Celeborn never tried to make Galadriel subservient to him. She had as much say in how things were run as he himself did. They were true co-rulers, equals in every way.

Then finally, Celeborn temporarily let Galadriel go. He was alright with her leaving on the White Ship to see their daughter and her parents and brothers again, while he stayed behind to finish what needed to be finished. He didn’t force her to stay with him when he himself could not (yet) leave. He didn’t hold her back from reuniting with people she loved and had lost so long ago.

And ultimately, Celeborn followed Galadriel once again. Though he was a Sinda born and bred, and never before had any desire to cross the Sea, he left his own homeland behind forever to reunite with her in her homeland. She still was just that important to him.

This guy was down bad for this girl. He lived his whole life drunk on wifeguy juice. Respect Celeborn.

[elronds-library]

Cleaving

by sallysavestheday (@sallysavestheday)

Finrod realizes that something is beginning, and something else is ending.

General, No Archive Warnings

Words: 376

[searchingforserendipity25]

survivor + character of your choice

Thank you @nablah, this ask came just when needed! <3

Silence, Thicker Than Frost

It snowed, upon the thatched roofs of Edoras; the doors of Dwarrowdelf cast cold shadows upon a cold landscape, and even in the borders of the Golden Wood cold winds blew, bringing flecks of damp and a close, stifling smell of rot. 

Outside the bounds of her Girdle, it was the death of autumn, the start of what ould be a long, crop-killing winter, enough rain to flood the hills and wreck old trees from the ground. Most storms carried something of the Enemy’s will in them, these days; and the Enemy was an inventive creature, a craftsman of the sort Galadriel had known, once.

 No snow, in Lothlórien. No plant-killing ice; never, not ever a cold so terrible as to steal the breath from the body, and the spirit from the flesh. 

Even in summer, the clouds above Lothlórien were dark as iron, grumbling thunder, an did not dare unleash scatterings of lightning; her own will pressed against the vast force of it, pressing the ozone out, away, far from the shelter of her people. 

How Celebrían had loved the storms! Had loved them enough to beg her mother to allow some summertime drizzles to fall upon Lothlórien, the violent, wind-sweeping storms that made robes and hair and feet dance.

For love to her daughter and the humming of the yearning treees, Galadriel had allowed something of summer’s tempers to fall upon the land; but never anything of winter’s shadow had come upon Lothlórien. 

For Galadriel was the last one to have known Winter Itself, and she did not intend to ever invite it near, not even in memories. 

No one that lived on this side of the sea remembered the crossing of the Ice, and even those in the West have not felt in on their new skin: Galadriel was the last to carry the memories and marks, the last survivor of the Ice. 

-

It had been summer, an easy blooming season even outside the Golden Woods, when her daughter was caught; and summer again, when she went from her husband’s Homely House to the ship that would bear her across the wide sea, to Galadriel’s own childhood realm. A false spring, turned to blizzards; a summer of drough, an autumn of pests, a winter of sickness.

 Galadriel had been ambushed, beleaguered, engrossed. All of her power turned to upholding the safety of her people, Nenya’s power pulsing along with her heart’s beating. She had not dared search her out herself, or take her to Imladris; or say farewell in the shores of Mithlond, when the time came. 

The winter Celebrían had spent in captivity had sapped her of such strength. She had lost toes to it, and swathes of skin; so much of her valour. Her good night’s sleep, and her certainty of safety. Galadriel had felt her, at times, far in her perception beyond the Wood, captured in the dark caves of the mountain passes, places so damp and lightless they held no shadow.

 She had felt her, and felt the Enemy’s power encroaching, and she had only been able to turn her great power to one of her duties. 

She had been glad, then, for what she had suffered in the ancient days of the Grinding Ice; had returned to her memories of the starless black fields and the treacherous bergs and floes with a vengeance, as if she might by the sharpness of recall do good to her daughter and wound the Enemy, and not merely herself.

In her selfish wrath Galadriel had thought, I understand this at least, my daughter, and I know you will survive this brief blight upon the business of your life. Had written many letters, and never received a reply; for Celebrían then had not been of a will to raise a hand to grasp her quill or uplift her voice to dictate any response.  

Celebrían had trembled all the way through the meager rainfall on the way from Imladris to the Havens, Galadriel had heard - gleaned, from her granddaughter’s memories. But Galadriel had not been there, either, to bless her crossing and kiss her thinned hands, to chafe them between her own and will all the warmth of her endless summers into her. 

-

Winter’s worst harshness never came to Lothlórien. No chill bit at its mellyrn to chew them from the outside, its golden and silver leaves never fell - no frost covered the living wood of the talans where its people dwelt. 

The ring Nenya allowed the Lady to do much that had once not been thought possible, even among the wisest of her people; such a preserving of beauty and plenty thar had had no equal in Ost-in-Edhil, nor Mithlond, nor anywhere but long-sacked and long-sunken Doriath.

There had been more of light and warmth and growth, to the Woods, before her daughter was harmed; now autumn was ever-chasing the boundaries of her power, a sly fox sniffing its way into the coop. She grew no stronger. And always weaker, very slowly and very perceptibly.

 To herself, at least. To her husband, certainly. It took a great deal out of Galadriel, this long defeat. A timeless time marked only by intervals of loss or the expectation of loss. 

“My lady,” Celeborn said. “May I?” 

“My lord,” said Galadriel, not moving. Her face was tilted upwards for the rain, but her mind was in the forest, among the deep roots, in the dark mulch, rooting with the beetles, prowling the high boughs with her guardsmen. 

He brought her a cape, finely woven by her own hand, and kept her company in her sleepless vigils. Clasped her hand, lent her his power; rooted her, Celeborn of Doriath, Celeborn of Lothlórien, her lord who was strong and steady as an unshakable tree. 

It was not that Galadriel was cold. 

It was only that hers was a false summer, her Wood’s and her body’s. She, who remembered the Ice, and the darkness, ached in the tender marrow of her bones. It was not a pain she had ever, ever tolerated the possibility of her daughter knowing. 

Far, far away, in a land of no winter, where Darkness was mended and all illness made whole, Celebrían had survived her time of darkness; Celebrían might be, even now, perhaps, dancing with the storm.

If the Enemy came, Galadriel would die for her people, and their land, and never join her with her own cold-harmed body, never give her what might there could be in a mother’s perfect, bitter understanding. 

One day, perhaps, they might dance together across the sea, as when Celebrían was a child leaping with her face turned to the rain. Galadriel foresaw much, but so much in her own defeat could only be given to hope without certainty. 

[thesummerestsolstice]

Broke: Celeborn is a calming presence; Galadriel is much less intense after marrying him.

Woke: Celeborn is a horrible enabler who supports Galadriel's rights, and more importantly, Galadriel's wrongs. She could commit murder and he wouldn't bat eyelash.

Bespoke: Celeborn is also secretly the "cause problems on purpose type" and he and Galadriel enable each other. Their relationship is wonderful for them! Slightly worrying for the rest of Middle-Earth though.

[marybeatriceofmodena]

"Celeborn will be a calming influence on Galadriel" You fools. YOU ABSOLUTE FOOLS. YOU HAVE MISREAD THE WIFEGUY MANUAL. HE WILL BE 10/10 DOWN FOR THE UNHINGINESS. HE WILL BE GIL-GALAD'S SECOND HEADACHE. PREPARE FOR THE LESLIE KNOPE AND BEN WYATT OF MIDDLE-EARTH.

[cheesy-cryptid]

“The war seemed so very far away then”