#haladriel ficlet

[nocaptainonthisship]

Something Blue

"Hal, seriously, what the fuck?"  Even whispered, the words reverberated oddly in the little anteroom. Too much emphasis on the consonants, sharp and crisp the way she'd been taught. Even spitting mad, Galadriel’s elocution lessons lingered. 

"What?" He always garbled his T's, the letter half gone and half transformed into a D until half the time she couldn't understand what he'd meant to say at all. This one was clear, though, wide-eyed, playful innocence on his face. He knew what he'd done, no matter the confusion he feigned. 

"Keep your voice down. The photographer is right out there.” She bit her lip sharply and tried to follow her own advice. “We talked about this. Months ago." 

"You're gonna have to remind me, baby." 

"A black suit is not traditional. It's not appropriate! This isn't the funeral portion of Four Weddings and A Funeral."

In the tight space, standing so close, he had to tilt his head down to give her a full once over, as if his jaw hadn't hit the floor when she walked into the room five minutes ago. Well, they'd both been speechless, if for entirely different reasons. 

"Is this 'traditional', then?" he scoffed.

"Pardon me?!"

"Gal, you look like the girl from Little House on the Prairie.”

On a different day, she might linger on the way his accent grew thicker towards the end, as if the mere mention of the prairie called him to his childhood home. A different day. Not today. She would not be charmed by him today. 

"You want to insult my dress right now?"

"I was trying to pay you a compliment. You're the one being insulting." 

"I *told you*, Hal. I don't care that you're thirty-two and still clinging to vestiges of your woe-begotten youth." Woe-begotten he mouthed, lips quirked up at the corners. "You know what I mean." 

He did, he always did. The same way he knew when she said woe-begotten, what she really meant was working class and with an affiliation for punk rock and goth and all the dark and dirty aesthetics implied therein.

"You promised me you wouldn't wear all black, just for one day. I love you, exactly as you, but just one day so my mother doesn’t freeze me out." She'd been reduced to whining and wheedling now, and it wouldn't be long before the frustration bled into tears. Nothing had been going according to plan, none of it was the way she thought it would be. Earwen had commandeered and countermanded every decision she could until it barely felt like Galadriel’s day at all. She hadn’t even brought her mother to the dress shop with her, hoping that the clothes, at least, would be them and nothing else. Her eyes started to sting. "I told you about the blue, right? I gave Mel a swatch, she said she’d take it with her to get your suit, she... You promised me."

"Hey, hey, it's ok. Have I ever broken a promise to you before?" Galadriel sniffed before shaking her head. "Right. So before you come for my head, can I show you something?”

He stepped back as far as the limited space in the glorified closet would allow and unbuttoned his suit jacket. The trousers, it turned out, weren't nearly as baggy as they'd seemed at first glance. Yes, they weren't as close-fitted as was trendy, but the wider leg suited him, counterbalancing the lankiness that made his mother call him 'string bean' even to this day. The jacket, that sea of black which had first made her see red, opened and Galadriel had to blink a dozen times a minute so her tears wouldn’t spill and send streaks of mascara down her perfectly made up face. 

The lining of his suit, which the tradition she'd tried and failed to insist on would have favored a darker fabric, was a soft, baby blue. It matched her dress, almost too perfectly. Except for the places where tiny black words walked across the fabric. 

Without conscious thought, her hand reached out to touch it. "What is this?" she asked, unable to do more than whisper. The whole thing had rather stolen her breath away.

"Emails," he said, as if she was just supposed to know what that meant. She did know what that meant. Hundreds of emails across hundreds of days after he'd finished his exchange year at Oxford and she hadn't yet found the courage to transfer to Columbia.

Hundreds of times they'd said "I love you," without ever saying the words. Both too self-assured, too self-reliant, too stupid to take a chance on being happy if it meant budging an inch. Galadriel had been the first to cave, filling out her transfer application in secret. Halbrand, of course, was the one to assign true meaning to it, a pizza box sitting on the floor between them as they laughed and caught up. He'd said "I love you" - out loud and on purpose. 

Galadriel blinked the tears from her eyes. It was such a blatant display of unadulterated affection, sickly sweet and so thoroughly American of him, she vowed then and there never to mention this to her father or uncles, lest it be the subject of drawing room ribbing for the rest of their lives. 

Privately, she’d cherish this forever. She’d frame it, if she could. “Halbrand,” she said, her voice shaky, watery. 

“There’s one more thing.” He had that gleam in his eye, mischievous, secretive, up-to-no-good in a familiar way guaranteed to make her smile. He tugged his shirt from the front of his trousers, but before she had a chance to process the way her mouth went dry at the sight of the dark hair dusting his abs, he tugged up the waistband of his pants. 

Silky soft, baby blue. 

“Now, if you’re done yelling at me and blubbering at me-” he hunched down then so they were at eye level, so she could see him eager, patient, kinder than she deserved after yelling at him in a supply closet, and just the tiniest bit lascivious - “maybe can we go take these photos and finally get married.”

She’d tell him later, that the boxer briefs he wore were a perfect match for the lingerie set his sister Mel had gifted at Galadriel’s hen do. A set she now wore under several layers of tulle. 

Maybe she’d just show him. 

🩵

For @justatinycollector and @stitchingatthecircuitboard

[thatsouthernanthem]

He draws her eye the moment he walks in. He’s taller than her brother, Finrod, the one guiding him through her parents’ house. Darker in skin tone and hair and…scruffier.

“He’s a friend of Beren’s,” Lúthien smiles over the rim of her wine glass, her eyes following her boyfriend, cousin and the mysterious stranger as they come closer. “Fin is friends with him now ‘cause of that.”

Galadriel nods absentmindedly—half of her thoughts on the absolute dread she feels at any of these family events, a quarter devoted to waiting for her mother to yell at her about her unhemmed jeans and the last quarter absolutely not eyeballing the tall man with her brother—and reaches for a glass of whisky on a tray just as the boys reach her.

“You old enough to drink?” The stranger laughs, the raspy noise of it making her stomach do a lazy flip-flop. Beren laughs at his joke before leaning forward to kiss Lú’s cheek. Finrod just shakes his head as Galadriel’s cheeks redden.

“You poor enough to be this year’s charity case?” She snaps back before storming away, whisky glass firmly in hand, missing the man’s annoyed face and vaguely impressed eyebrow raise.

**

So with that being their first interaction, Galadriel is uncertain as to how they’re here now—her in his lap on her mother’s hideous ‘artsy’ patio couch with that stupid ficus in its equally hideous pot that’s been there since she was a baby. He’s got his fingers twisted in her shirt, pulling the fabric up enough to expose her bare back to the humid evening air.

His tongue in her mouth.

Her pressed oh so tight against his body, making her well aware of just how aroused he is.

The curtains drawn inside, everyone too busy to come wander onto this side patio where no entertainment or barbecue is there to tempt them. Just Halbrand and Galadriel. They’d danced around each other all night—insults thinly veiling the tension between them—until moments ago it snapped. And here they were.

[mirroringdust]

For Haladriel Week and the prompt heirs and heroes. I know the graphic is very simple but I hope you like the writing 😊

Read here on AO3

[nenyabusiness]

but still the door is closed

"But still the door is closed!" The Fellowship of the Ring: The Mirror of Galadriel

She senses him when he puts the One Ring on his finger, his darkness clawing at her mind, demanding entrance. For centuries, he’s tried to find a way back into her thoughts; to finish the feud that was never settled. He knocks, and knocks, and knocks, but still the door is closed.

She senses him when the One Ring slips from his grasp, his physical form torn asunder, his presence clinging to the power stored within his greatest creation. Weakened but not defeated, he reaches out to her, searching for holes in her mental walls. He knocks, and knocks, and knocks, but still the door is closed.

She senses him when the One Ring is destroyed, his being reduced to an aimless consciousness, doomed to forever linger on the hither shore. Shapeless and powerless, he calls out to her; a desperate plea to a mind that once loved him. He knocks, and knocks, and knocks, but still the door is closed.

there was only one raft: a collection of ficlets and vignettes

[jhalya]

👼 Halbrand continues to babysit (Single Mom AU)

🔗Read on AO3

[loweryourriskofheartdisease]

i wrote a little ...

[coraleethroughthelookingglass]

Me and @somebirdortheother bring our Nossë-verse Valentine’s week to a close with an almost meet cute ficlet that may or may not become the start of something new 🤫🤐🤫🤐

[conundrumoftime]

That sauron x galadriel x celeborn post is delectable. I'm curious how celeborn would perceive it, were he to see the moment in a fourth wall kind of way. Also, will this threesome dynamic always be like this? Something reminds her of Him -> she knows he's watching -> she taunts him with her husband -> celeborn is pleased? It seems like more of a third wheel angle, so I'm curious to see how you write the haladriel aspect :>

Oh I have so many thoughts on this one! And so many different angles it could go, depending on the day's preferred flavour of "and how is that working exactly" re: 3rd-Age and post-3rd Age canon Celeborn and Galadriel if you put a past Haladriel story in there.

As angst: the most beautiful and gorgeous take on this I have ever read is in @bad-surprise's fic and this part was for her, this part was for her (does she remember?) , which I love so very much:

She furrows her brow in one gentle crease, and she is so beautiful he forgets that he’s prepared a speech— it was so easy to dream up a response outside of the moment, considering hypothetical feelings like abstract concepts, but now he is seized by the ferocity of it, the violent tide of emotion threatens to drag him under, body weighed down by his anger and his love and this prescient, pre-emptive grief— The world is changing, she whispers into his soul, too close, far too close for comfort, and he did not agree to this.

As more lighthearted: so in LOTR the hobbits are told that Galadriel is constantly mind-battling with Sauron, which is fine as far as it goes but surely she needs some time off sometimes over thousands of years, right?, so I like the idea of Celeborn standing in sometimes as her out-of-office contact. This is from an unfinished ficlet of mine:

The Enemy’s voice, which is a whisper and a howl and a flap of wings all wrapped into one hissing, singing tone, says: Galadriel. “She isn’t here,” Celeborn says. Bring her. Celeborn turns over a page in his book. It’s a history of the land that was once Lothlann, in the north of Beleriand, and the Sindar who once dwelt there. It’s not badly written but he does rather think it’s a lot of Noldor self-justification, mixed with far too little of anything interesting. “She’s busy.”

As slightly unexpected resolution: so I joked on Twitter at one point that I don't really care about 'endgame' in ships but if we're going down that road then out of Sauron, Galadriel, and Celeborn, only two of those stay in Middle-earth after LOTR. And then I thought "well you know what, they'd both miss her, maybe they should get to find some comfort in that together." And so I wrote it:

The air lifts a sigh between them. Illusion, surely; and yet Celeborn senses it on his skin all the same. “Such arrogance to think you can name anything I feel, silver Sinda princeling. I thought the elves were all to fade away and become formless ghosts among your trees. Is that what’s happening to you? Is that how you can speak with me this way?” It’s that or it’s the Mirror or it’s something else, something about the land, something about the one who once loved it. He does not care.  If he closes his eyes, he can feel the other’s touch on his face as warm as a living hand. 

[urwendii]

[Haladriel] - 3rd Age. Canon compliant. 270 words ficlet.

He hates her.

The way she is a creature of contempt and self righteousness. The way she shines in the light. The way she makes him feel emotions he has long decided were worthless. The way she makes him rage and weak.

He hates her.

And yet everyday he tries, he still tries. He almost has forgotten why now, there's his Ring and Her and in his mind they're both entwined as his obsession. He reaches out and crawls the length of their decaying bond and the way is always shut.

He hates her.

And yet he never attacks, he never moves against Lothlorien. He never ceased to covet and deludes himself she will come to him.

And because she never does.

He hates her.

***

She hates him.

The way he deceived her. The way she cannot think of a forge without thinking of Númenor and the endless possibilities that died there. She way he's responsible for her brother's death and so many more each day.

She hates him.

The way she can feel him trying still to reach her. How their bond persists despite the centuries. How it broke a small part of her soul that she will never get back. How she sometimes dream of a what if world where both are enough for each other.

She hates him.

For the pain he causes, the death and destruction, to Middle Earth and to himself. The way she is sure that nothing will remain of him when it will be all over.

Because he was once called the Admirable and she never got to meet him.

She hates him.

[fluffygreenkoala]

Wrote a new Haladriel ficlet ✨

[thecoziestbean]

Hello! I’m Cozy: I'm a late-30s fic writer, d&d nerd, and lover of all things wild and strange.

I primarily write for Haladriel from the Rings of Power and Halsin from Baldur’s Gate 3, but I’ve been known to dabble in a few other fandoms. My fics are often NSFW so please, MDNI.

The only other things that I ask are that you ship and let ship, and if there’s something you’re not into, don’t read it. Mind the tags and curate your own experience in fandom.

Haladriel - The Rings of Power

In Progress

The Venus of Valinor | E | 11/13 | 61.8k

meet me at the edge | E | 4/? | 39.6k | dead dove

kiss the skin that crawls | E | 3/? | 11.4k

Completed

Missed Connections | G | 2/2 | 394

My Way or the Highway | E | one-shot | 6.6k

Hellbrand & Ghouladriel Week Drabbles | T | 8/8 | 800

Looking Glass | E | one-shot | 2.2k | dead dove

Haladriel Winter Solstice Ficlets & Drabbles | M | 5/5 | 641

sharp as a razor, sweet as honeysuckle | E | 6/6 | 11.9k

A Lust for Light | E | one-shot | 6.5k

drag me out, destroy me | G | drabble | 100

Haladriel Week 2024 Drabbles (series) | T | drabbles | 700

Hellghoul Week 2024 Drabbles | M | drabbles | 800

In My Mind (You're Mine Forever) | E | one-shot | 7.7k

Halsin - Baldur's Gate 3

Completed

run through the forest (settle before the sun) | Halsin/F!Reader | E | one-shot | 6.8k

a waking dream | Halsin/F!Reader | E | one-shot | 1.9k

follow my only song | Halsin/GN!Reader | G | drabble | 100

Sweet As Poison | Poison Oak (Halsin/Kagha) | E | 3.9k

Other Fandoms & Pairings

Completed

The Wishing Tree | Celia/Marco, The Night Circus | G | one-shot | 2k

come out and get some | Ghost x F!Reader, COD | E | one-shot | 4.9k

take the stars from my eyes | Proudfeet (Poppy/Nori, TROP) | G | double drabble | 200

[ao3feed-tolkien]

I would make you a queen

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/FxbWP6a

by BittersweetPorky

A short of collection of Haladriel ficlets. Because in every universe and no matter what happens, Halbrand will always catch feelings.

Words: 930, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power (TV 2022)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/M

Characters: Galadriel | Artanis, Halbrand (The Rings of Power), Sauron | Mairon, Elrond Peredhel

Relationships: Galadriel | Artanis & Halbrand (The Rings of Power), Galadriel | Artanis & Sauron | Mairon, Galadriel | Artanis/Halbrand (The Rings of Power)

Additional Tags: Ficlet, Ficlet Collection, Fluffyfest, Some Humor, No Plot/Plotless, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Elf napping, Accidental Voyeurism

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/FxbWP6a

[eowyn7023]

Haladriel, in ficlets.

Maybe You Were the Ocean, When I Was Just a Stone. Galadriel/Celeborn. 1.1k. RoP Week 2023, Season 2 Arc you are most excited for: The dramatic scene between Galadriel, Sauron, and Celeborn.

An old specter comes back to haunt Galadriel at Ost-in-Edhil.

“Please, Galadriel,” he entreated her. “I know you are in possession of one of three Elven rings Celebrimbor has made. He has told me all about it as I have been working with him. He needs to make an adjustment to yours.” He turned to face her. His eyes, they shone with a ferocity that burned bright past the sunset behind him. “Nenya, was it? Your ring?” Galadriel felt her feet begin to move of their own accord as she kept her eyes on him without even blinking, slowly circling him in an old dance of fire. A preparation for war. “You have an awful lot of interest in these rings,” she told him carefully, watching his face for a reaction.

Keep Reading

[mirroringdust]

Masterlist Haladriel Week

I had a blast writing for Haladriel week and reading all these beautiful and inspiring writings. I'm relatively new to rings of power and the Haladriel corner, so naturally I was worried (am generally a worrier) how my fics would be received but you were all so so lovely and I just want to say thank you so much for commenting and encouraging me. It means incredible much ❤️ It even got me to write more than I actually thought! Looking forward to replying to the comments and reading more of you! (links to AO3)

DAY 1 KING AND QUEEN - Crashing Waves

Galadriel's POV during Sauron's offer in episode 8 | G | 1636 w

DAY 3 HEIRS AND HEROES - Destinies can be Deceiving

Short ficlet of Sauron's long way to the light | T | 204 w

DAY 4 BINDING - A Familiar Place

Drabble of Sauron reaching out to Galadriel during s2 | G | 100 w

DAY 6 SHADE - Shades of Darkness

When an enemy saves her, unresolved questions of his and her own darkness appear (s2 first meeting) | T | 1688 w

DAY 7 FREE - Settle your trembling heart (added later)

After all battles are fought, this overaching fear still trembles Galadriel's heart and she reaches out to the only person who understands her struggles. Happy Ending for Haladriel | T | 1838 w

I love them so much and I'm so happy I can share my love and fascination with others!

[nenyabusiness]

a world where nothing matters

Fandom: Rings of Power Pairing: Haladriel Rating: E Words: 1k

Fantasies are fragile things, bound by their own sets of rules. The past is a necessary ingredient, but if given too much freedom, it will turn the illusion into a memory. The present is a far more dangerous intruder. It’s a tempting source of inspiration, but If given the opportunity, it will tear any fantasy apart.

Read on AO3

bind yourself to me: a collection of ficlets and vignettes (nsfw)

[nenyabusiness]

The Glanduin

He could take her with him.  

The realization hits him as he resurfaces from his illusion, piercing through his state of blind rage. She may have just turned down the greatest proposal that any Elf has ever received, absolutely humiliating him in the process, but that doesn’t mean that he has to respect her delusional wishes. People like him don’t brook denials—they take what is their due. His time in Ost-in-Edhil has clearly come to an end, but he doesn’t have to leave Eregion alone.

He looks down at the unconscious Elf in his arms. In her mind, she’s still drowning at the bottom of the Sundering Seas, but her face shows no sign of her mental torment. Her serene expression doesn’t change as he pulls her closer, her head slumping against his shoulder. She’s trapped in her own memory, leaving her body completely defenseless.  

He could keep her.

His little Elf put up a good fight when he forced himself into her thoughts—a futile one, but impressive nonetheless. For several seconds, she stubbornly clung to her consciousness, refusing to back down from a battle that she must have known she couldn’t possibly win. When she finally fell, his victory should have been absolute, but she still managed to twist her defeat into a stalemate. She lost, but somehow, so did he.

He could take her with him. He could keep her. He could, but he would still lose. Against her will and her pride, he would always lose.

He gently lowers her down on the shallow riverbed of the Glanduin. When her kin casts her out, she’ll realize that every word he said was true. When the world turns against her, she’ll understand her purpose. When she’s got nowhere left to go, she’ll know where she belongs.   

He can wait.

there was only one raft: a collection of ficlets and vignettes