#galathil

[aldanil]

Galathil again

[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.

[lost-in-thedas]

Nyloth, aka Galathil before being adopted

I wished to draw them with drow clothing but was lazy at same time

They are very young there. During the very short years they spent to Menzoberranzan (they don’t have memories of there or very blurry).

[chaos-of-the-abyss]

Nimloth 🌅 - Have they ever pulled an all-nighter? If so, what do they do to stay awake?

ANON I AM DEEPLY SORRY THIS REPLY IS RIDICULOUSLY LATE. anyway:

as a child nimloth pulled a few all-nighters. she was an energetic kid (just like dior, btw <3) and when something caught her attention she wouldn't even notice the hours go by with how focused she was. her mother and galathil would make efforts to put her to bed but she'd just crawl out and go right back to what she was doing. as she grows up she stops pulling all-nighters since, you know, it's hard, and she doesn't have a child's unquenchable enthusiasm to keep her up anymore.

once she becomes queen of doriath though, she starts pulling all-nighters again right alongside her husband. they've got 18273901823 different administrative matters to juggle -- doriath is reeling in the wake of thingol's death and melian's departure, and so many things that they handled by themselves are now left in the water and nobody knows how to address them -- and three young kids to raise; and so as one might expect they are the no-sleep-having royal couple of menegroth :) there's never not something to be working on -- organizing patrols, signing documents, listening to reports, etc. etc. etc. dior is the type to push himself, so is nimloth, so if one of them had an all-nighter you best bet the other did too. sometimes one of them will catch the other nodding off during the day and wake them up. when they have the opportunity they'll squeeze five minutes of zzz's together in between back-to-back council meetings. probably the only thing keeping them sane is each other. and their children, but their children also simultaneously drain their sanity, so yk. each other

[pengumi12]

Thingol's Family (and others)

[mareenavee]

WIP Whatever? Yeah.

Hi Everyone! I have been buried in some work for Skywind lately, and I am tired.

But I have been writing for prompt fills for the most part so, stay tuned for a few words. :>

I was tagged to share some writing by the amazing: @thequeenofthewinter, @dirty-bosmer, @kookaburra1701, @rainpebble3, @ladytanithia and @skyrim-forever!

Tagging: @paraparadigm, @thana-topsy (🫂), @orfeoarte, @changelingsandothernonsense, @saltymaplesyrup, @snippetsrus, @archangelsunited, @gilgamish, @throughtrialbyfire, @miraakulous-cloud-district, @nuwanders, @viss-and-pinegar, @late-nite-scholar, @greyborn2 AND YOU -- yes, you, if I've forgotten your tag, you're more than welcome to be tagged honorarily and tag me back so I can read some words >:}

For now, here's a bit from my prompt fill for Harvest -- it's from Galathil's POV and is World Canon. It happened a few years before Nyenna's story begins. Untitled so far. Below the cut! Just shy of 800 words.

Galathil felt the shift in the Ratway before the stranger’s arrival, if she was being honest with herself. There was a certain nervousness in that liminal place between solving the Mercer issue and everyone’s attempt at starting over again. And if anyone knew anything about starting over, it was her. One was never content to simply reap what they’d sown. She would not be part of the Guild, nor be seated here on a bench crafted of sodden wood in a seedy tavern under the worst possible of cities if things had gone to plan, after all.

She watched as Delvin plunked crates of fresh vegetables on the table across the room from her, his brow creased with worry. The harvest in this case would go solely to feeding the stranger who had settled into the Warrens, himself averse to the consequences of his actions— or existence. Galathil hadn’t managed to parse exactly what his trouble was, but it was enough to stir up unease. Mention of Thalmor had floated around, and, while it had made her nervous…she’d used her own power on herself long ago. It didn’t stop them from trying to find her. Her magic was rather…unique. The fear of that recognition gnawed at her in an abstract way. She would be defended against Thalmor inquiry without needing to ask for the Guild’s help, true. But then the debt would once again stack in their favor, even if they never came to collect. She still felt outside of things, despite her years settled in the damp amongst them, and despite their hospitality and their attempts at including her.

She fussed with the edge of her sleeve, though even this was going threadbare in places. She’d learned to do without, to stop accumulating social debt and asking for favors, nervous to be seen and, therefore, known. She could never outrun her crimes—the ones from before she fled. The jobs she was forced to do on pain of death for treachery. That she had made it out of Valenwood by the end at all was by the grace of one god or the next. And she had to live with what she’d done to escape, as well as just what she’d run from, and all the consequences of the path she’d chosen to walk.

That was likely why she felt so distant from most—there was a certain trepidation about what they all would think if they really knew her. It was better not to let them in, not to answer their questions with any semblance of truth. But one, of course, managed to worm his way in. And it was because he, too, carried a secret like one might carry a festering wound.

Teldryn Sero, bravado set aside for once, grit his teeth as he sat down next to her. The bench groaned in protest. He was silent for a moment, the only sound the steady clunk of chitin as he bounced his knee, agitation and nervousness palpable. His eyes were distant and dark in the poor lighting. She gently brushed her fingers over his gauntlet, and he grasped her hand. He was shaking. She knit her eyebrows and looked up at him in concern.

“They’re housing a Blade here, Galathil.” He picked his helmet up off of her table, where he’d left it before he’d gone off to assist Vex and Brynjolf with the stranger. “He knew me. He looked right at me, and I… How? How could that be possible?” He paused and closed his eyes. Galathil squeezed his hand.

She knew why he was here, then. Since the Mercer issue, he’d been distant enough, which was to be expected. He’d said once he’d never meant to get roped into cults and guilds. He wasn’t necessarily the best thief she’d ever seen, either, to be perfectly fair. He would be running again. She knew that peace was fleeting, if it even existed at all. And they had had peace, even if it was just for a moment. Consequences seemed to demand it as payment whenever they caught up.

“You can’t know for sure if he recognized you, Teldryn.”

“I can’t be sure he didn’t.” He still gripped her hand. She could see, even through the armor, the tension in his shoulders. Could hear it in his voice, too. “Galathil…please. I just. I know what I said about your skills. I know. But I’ve changed my mind. Can you help me?”

“And rid the world of a face like yours?” she asked. Her smile was wistful.

[mukuuji]

[elronds-library]

leaves unfurled

by ambrorussa (@welcometolotr)

Part 6 of The First Oath

Above Celeborn, his family tree is dead and withered. These are the consequences, he thinks, of growing up in an Age of war. Of having a nurse raise him after his parents were killed in the First Battle; of the stories of his grandparents fading away. This is the tale he doesn’t know; the events that coalesced before he existed and those that slipped under his notice once he did.

Teen, No Archive Warnings

Words: 5,685

[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

[aldanil]

Galathil doodle

I gave them a Druid headband because we were robbed by the game

[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.

[lost-in-thedas]

Praise the Oak father

Random Galathil doodle on a time I forgot how to draw again

[larkscribbles]

Skyrim fic ft. The Face Sculptor and Dragonborn!Quentin! Fixing his nose might help save the world.

[AO3] [Tumblr]