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Messages - Galadriel

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Though Elves did not need sleep, or not a great deal of it anyway, Artanis had felt from the moment they'd crossed the girdle of Meilian that she could easily sleep a thousand years, and then some. Not forever, perhaps, for to succumb as such was never to be in her nature, but she'd have liked a thousand years of it, and no less. And not because of any real sense of safety, either; they had long left the Western realms willingly, the Helacraxe reduced to naught now but a nightmare, but that did not lessen the sense of displacement. Nor could she ignore the underlying tension, though she felt sometimes only she saw it with clear eyes, between the disparate elf kin despite the display of open arms from Elwë Singollo and in kind, the acceptance of Fëanor.

It was still early days, though.

Too early, she felt, impatience characteristic even in the fog of ambiguity and uncertainty. It had pulled her from sleep, the sense of disorientation, though whether it was borne from not knowing where she was at first or the cold, cold nightmare that still burned itself into her waking vision was debatable. 'He's dead, 'Tani. Let him down.'

The whisper of the nightmare come with the bile of a grief she would never, ever show to even the most circumspect of the Hidden King's court was swallowed down hard, Artanis forcing her mind to come back to her body once more so that it could register, finally, that they were in the rooms given to Finwe's children and not the searing, frozen path of the Helacraxe; that the cold she felt was not cutting ice but the floor where she'd fallen from her bed, cold with the morning of the early springtime. So early that the sun was barely more than a haze of orange lining the horizon, but Artanis drug herself to her knees, shivering with fever dream as much as literal cold as she shuffled necessarily, but still embarrassingly, on the aforementioned to her cloak and the soft slippers she'd worn the night before. She had no desire to wake her brothers, but it was only her brothers who knew best that the proud, upright Noldo Princess of these last several nights had trembled on pained feet if left alone too long, had held tightly to Finrod's arm and evaded any offer to dance not simply because of hubris or arrogance.

The problem there, of course, was that she was left only to rely on herself in the here and now. And so she quite simply did, allowing herself a wince in the privacy of the bedroom as she slipped the soft shoes over her bandaged feet, letting herself grit her teeth as she pushed herself to her feet with the sheer will of one who wanted to escape the heaviness of their dreams-- memories...both, inexorably intertwined. The worst kind of dreams.

With no support but her own, Artanis was left to limp for the open air she sought. Providence, or perhaps Varda herself, watched over her in this instance though; her journey mercifully free at this time of day of potential encounters. Once she'd alighted into the gardens though, she paused, unsure of where she might now go, feeling however that sitting here in the aforementioned, though unpleasant, was somehow unfinished. Not giving up, perhaps stubbornness some on her part, but it just...wasn't what she wanted. And she never did what she didn't want to do. Even though, in this case, pain was a strong motivator and-- oh!

Well then. She didn't know Doriath well quite yet, or Elu Thingol's halls, but what she did know was the scent of horse. Her keen nose picked up the familiarity amid the unfamiliar, her heart as keen, ravenous even, for the solid comfort promised by such companionship. It took her a moment, given how disinclined her feet were to move on their own so she might explore, to gain a clear idea of which way she was headed, but once assured, Artanis pushed her way through the small break in the hedgerow, ignoring the tug of the branches at her night clothes in favour of the absurdly childish pleasure that was discovering the little path well-worn it seemed, but otherwise hemmed in either side by forest. It gave her leave to bumble along as gracelessly as she pleased on her cut up feet, tracking what she sought until, finally, it filled her vision before she.

She was as absurdly pleased to discover that where Finwe's children had been given rooms was, it appeared, within such short walking distance to the fields these royal horses preferred-- should one know that little trail existed. And royal they were, these beasts; it was in every line of their wondrous bodies, even the mares who were heavily pregnant and the stubby, tiny foal that looked, it seemed, to be the first one born of the season.

It was watching her with pricked ears, the foal. Eyes alight with the curiousity of the young and the innocent, and Artanis yearned to reach for the scrubby, fuzzy fur, run her fingers over satin hide and seek comfort in the world through the silk of a horse's mane. But these horses were not hers to be so familiar with, the careful way the mare who must be the mother of the foal also watched her a lovely, if painful reminder of that. So with a soft sigh, Artanis made herself accept the joy of their presence alone, closing her eyes and leaning against the tree nearest her. It didn't quite relieve her feet, but she didn't fancy trying to get up from the ground either if she sat down.

How long she was there, she'd no idea, save that the sun had begun to filter weakly through her eyelids. It was long enough, it appeared, for curiousity on gangly little legs to venture forth, and it was only elvish stillness that kept her from startling them both when she felt whiskers and the huff of breath on her belly. The foal-- colt, a quick glance underneath told her-- blew loudly when her gaze fixed on him, but he stood his ground-- boldness and imperiality in infancy. And, Artanis felt, a little wickedness; there was something in the babe's eye that made her want to smirk, even as he stood on caution-stiff legs.

Little ears swiveled back, then forward, then the same again, each time at the soft, short but musical whistle drifted from the stranger before him. Sniffed carefully, then drew back, from a hand finally offered. And then all at once did he glance one last time at a mother still watchful but not alarmed, before pushing his head into Artanis's hand. The answering smile was no less warm in its dream weariness, though wan it still was, Artanis's long fingers making quick and familiar work of the itchy spots so often on horses. Though young enough to be nowhere near shedding his foal fuzz for glossy adult hide, the colt still groaned in pleasure, pushing himself closer-- too much so, and it was with a pained yelp that Artanis lost her own unsteady footing to land hard on her behind. Quite literally lost at that, one of her slippers sailing in the air a short distance as she was pushed backwards.

The foal had come with her though, and after a startled look, he'd immediately decided that lying down was as perfect a place to be as any. Her pained yelp turned to a startled laugh as he rubbed his head against her hands peremptorily, attending obediently to scratches while he stretched his gangly, dark little body against her.

"You are rude, little one," she murmured admonishingly in Noldo, before realisation turned her tongue to Sindar for the horse's sake. "Rude and bossy."

And she, utterly belying herself when she scratched an itchy shoulder a moment longer, allowing the ache in her feet to settle before she wrapped her arms tightly around the compact little foal body. Sighing deeply into his neck; the warmth of him not quite able to drive the cold entire away, for he couldn't hug her back. But it was still...something, in this unfamiliar, displaced place.

Half-Elves / Re: Lost in Between
« on: August 03, 2020, 05:52:57 AM »
.:. Galadriel && Elladan .:.

I hate to be the one that rubs it in not really LOL but I feel that in being the most impartial party, so to speak, she could have been the elder in his life with the best perspective on his falling towards the path of Elros, painful though it was in its own way for her the loss of Luthien (and later, the loss of Arwen) and more painful again the possibility of what Elladan faces (his history also adds a rather haunted, lovely ache to her conversation with Elrohir in Lorien regarding his choices and the reality of Love when it comes to their race, so I appreciate how that worked out LOL). I feel there's extra attachment there in their own right too, as he would remind her the most of herself in her youth in temperament, which could make for some interesting brainstorming/discussion from when he was growing up and getting them to where they are by at least the point of Celebrian's sailing (if not as part of that).

Regardless of any and everything though, he could always have counted on her to be honest with him, able to understand him while being wise enough to be unfettered by her own heartache, fears etc whenever he's come to her. And younger him could always count on a playmate to humour him and absolutely not offer an offhand remark about a prank or three, even when she had to scold or be annoyed, because Galadriel is the last person in the world to judge playing remorseless mischief on family, elders and everything in between in her youth. I think a small part of her feels guilty that her duties kept her away frequently from Celebrian, and so she tried extra hard to make up for it to her grandchildren.

.:. Tintalde && Elladan .:.

I was a bit nervous, not going to lie, given Canon x OC relationships don't always look well regardless of an IC build up. xD So I was relieved to hear you were on board with Elrohir x Tintalde.

ANYWAY, these two are...rather alike, actually, give or take the more obvious differences (his boldness to her shyness being the big one). She came to Rivendell some just under a thousand years ago, initially as a protégé of Elrond's so as to exercise her prodigal potential with healing magic (though ironically, she prefers most what she can physically hold, such as herbs and their lore) and after her difficult childhood, with little intention or desire to make friends. But, well, I guess the Twins were just too hard to resist for 500+ years? With Elladan-- what she knows and how close/fond they've grown of each other is something I'm happy to follow along with you, but I know she would have from the absolute start appreciated his bold sincerity and honesty and the possibility of someone who neither minds her own sometimes severe case of bluntness and would, over time, be someone trustworthy enough so as not to play games with her or force her to have to try and (over)read feelings, intentions etc.

.:. Legolas && Elladan .:.

I guess the first thing to start off with here is: did they meet when they were younger, or perchance around the events of BotFA where Legolas imposed his own exile from the Mirkwood and so left to wander and learn in the wilds himself?

(I think that's all I have so far, short of any of my others being of interest to you. <3)

Elves / Re: Welcome to Mithlond
« on: August 03, 2020, 05:23:59 AM »
(Going to get to that PM in a bit; I've just been dying for a chance to get to this!)

.:. Galadriel && Cirdan .:.

I think we've talked just enough elsewhere to know we both have a fair knowledge of the history of Middle Earth, particularly regarding characters like these two, so it's more a matter of making suggestions as to whether one or both of us wants to visit certain events or their aftermath where interaction between these two are concerned. What do you think?

I can say that regarding Galadriel's view of Cirdan, it is a view of deep respect and affection. Few are older than her that still remain on Middle Earth at this point (the Maiar being, well, the Maiar, are a separate matter entirely) and in essence, I feel he has the leave to have seen her truly grow up since the time of the Noldor host's arrival in Middle Earth, from fiery, untapped Artanis to the divine queen she all but is now. He likely is one of the very few she will still unreservedly seek the advice of by the time of the Third Age, able to understand the burden of Nenya too in a way even beloved Celeborn cannot.

As a rather cute, possible aside, we know Cirdan befriended Finrod-- do you think that best for when these two met, or a separate occasion entirely? It's easy to manufacture a reason for her being absent in the former; she was badly tired and hurt by the crossing of the Helacraxe, and may have been absent to rest herself and her feet after that initial first meeting. I've certainly made her draw to her Teleri roots quite strong (because she does love the Sea ardently, and I can never resist another reason to tease about her draw to the ellon that would become her husband either). As to other semi-formed ideas, her faith in the Valar has been tested repeatedly in the past, and though she's now at peace with them, the events around the exile from Valinor being lifted were particular sore points for her in the past. It could make for interesting long ago threads, as a start.

.:. Tintalde && Cirdan .:.

I noticed the mention several times over of his fosterlings and extended family etc, and while she's likely not in need of either, suffice to say that part of Tintalde's journey to where she is by the time of The Hobbit Era is based upon her finding some inner peace with life in general. It's why, despite the comforts of Rivendell and her status as one of Elrond's protégé, she left to travel some-- and I know she certainly ended up in Lindon at some point. Between this and, if you're amenable, the possibility of Cirdan knowing her Telerin father in the past (he was a soldier of Gil-Galad's, before falling in love and settling in the Mirkwood prior to his death), would spending some time with Cirdan (starting with her being especially hungry for stories of her sire, whom she both loved and has resented in equal measure for leaving the teenage her alone after her mother died) be a possibility?

[I think that's all of mine so far, unless anyone else strikes your fancy first!]

Other Times; Other Places / Re: & though she'll grow & someday leave
« on: June 07, 2020, 01:39:30 PM »
"Despicable creature," the Lady deadpanned aloud, though (not so secretly), she was flattered (and perhaps a little touched) at still being desired so. Though it was not usual to the vast majority of their race to place such value in the physical when literal eons had passed in their lives (the metaphysical aspect, and the spiritual soul, taking precedence by that same eons of immortality), Celeborn seemed to take after Elu Thingol in more than one regard. And, no matter how she aspired to be, there was a baser (though not base), simpler part to Galadriel-- the young mother, after a fashion; the brief, but all the more intense for it, slew of change in body and mind that came with giving one's body over to pregnancy and childbirth and yes, even the aftermath-- that took a sort of solace from it.

She shifted then, though only to brush her nose fondly against the silver hair resting against his ear before scooting so that, rather than lying there and leaving Celeborn to be nought but a put upon pillow of sorts, her back both leaned against and supported his own with a perfect symmetry. The happy little noise gave away Celebrian's new pursuit of entertainment in the wake of tired parents as much as the slight tug Galadriel felt where her hair was accosted by tiny, clumsy hands.

Listening to that, the Lady realised that while not forgotten for the moment, her pained reflections of what had passed and what would come had, at the least, been softened by silver lining, and she smiled gratefully even as her eyes fluttered closed.

"Of course I love you too."

Lothlórien / Re: i will keep you safe and strong
« on: June 07, 2020, 02:04:57 AM »
Oh, but how indescribable was it truly, to feel so light and gay again. Galadriel would not go so far as to say she had forgotten the feeling for indeed, those memories attached to it were the best of her long, long life. Nor, in the same breath, would she ever resent that which had made her weary and droll; she, who had always pursued her goals, her very destiny, as nothing but greatness and the suffering that came with it-- the cool weight of Nenya on her hand only a part of the whole of it all.

In this moment though, she begrudged not a jot of the lightness of heart, the playfulness of her grandchild's sarcasm, nor even the timeless touch of nostalgic sadness of the older generation realising the loss of the singular focus, the dependency and love, of the younger on them. Elrohir's remark was met with a laugh-- a genuine peal of sound, loud and cheerful and uninhibited so that the Lady's beloved mallorn leaves quivered with it.

"Well," she managed after some moments, still chuckling as she came to her knees and held out a hand to Elrohir, "The truth is a wonderful, painful, overwhelming thing, and I am full of truths."

Other Times; Other Places / Re: where little selkies sing
« on: October 29, 2019, 05:50:49 AM »
'It's always enough, my friend. I wish it could be more.'

It wasn't said aloud. Neither of them were overtly sentimental, even when zeal ruled their actions and vigour was the cornerstone of who the other was. It was why they'd become friends in the first place, long before her string of fate had wound itself into a future. Too alike, but alike enough to gain a quick understanding of the other in those years in which they had languished in Doriath. Galadriel wouldn't have gone so far as to say it was an alliance borne of misunderstandings-- though in a way, it was. Not between them, but between the two of them and others. Even Elves, made in the image of the Valar though they were, were not immune to sentient folly, and so Thranduil's high spirits, Artanis's truculent pride, the assertive self-possession (even when it was little but a show) and it's dance as often with arrogance as with greatness-- all risked breeding resentment at times, warranted and unwarranted, among the less discerning.

And at the very last layer, a spoiled but eminent ellon who was princely and yet not a prince, and a princess of the Noldor displaced and grieving with the guilt of sins not all her own-- both more lost back then than even they consciously believed. It wasn't a surprise, really, that they'd...well, teamed up. Really, it had been as simple as the-- currently panicking over a child ellon-- being bolder than the rest, those first few years.

It wasn't said aloud, but Melian's gift let it be so that it touched Thranduil's mind, a whisper of fond thought even as Galadriel laughed aloud at his predicament, and though a hand rested gently against the back of Celebrian's head, it was more for Thranduil's sake than the child's; the lack of maternal alarm speaking for itself. Regardless of what he felt, Galadriel trusted him to do the right thing in the end, though she did him some pity in assuredly moving the child to rest against his shoulder, moving those large hands herself so that ultimately, one rested comfortably under the elfling's bottom and the other, against her upper back.

"There, she'll settle now. They simply like to know what's going on about them."

The conversation moved on though, finally, to what Galadriel had been angling for...though even as she'd anticipated it some did her smile turn considerably wry.

"Gil-galad." It was said with a fond, if sympathetic note; the High King was far from a child any longer, but to his aunt, he was 'ever a favourite and a reminder, more than anyone else knew, of the bravest (and most playful) of her brothers. On the other hand, she knew full well that high-minded as he was, it was likely that whatever Thranduil's message for him wouldn't be likely to put anyone in a good mood. Oropher had never quite forgiven all that had happened in the years since the Noldor had arrived, or even before then, and Galadriel knew that while she herself was cordial with him, there was a distinct chip on the shoulder of the Silvan King not likely to go away. It was the same she still sometimes dealt with from her own mate, though unlike Celeborn, Oropher did not have the exposure nor the deeper understanding the former was gifted in his close alliance with one of the Calaquendi.

'And there was the ever present problem, really,' Galadriel mused. Moriquendi, Calaquendi, the divisions between their race; the arrogance of Feanor and his sons, even as it was counterbalanced by those like herself who had found their peace among those who had not seen the light of the Two Trees. But it was an ageless, likely unending argument (not least because it hadn't ended now) and thus, she commented little more on it, instead tucking her arm through Thranduil's free one in companionable support. Even as she grinned a playful facsimile of that well-known, arresting smile up at him.

"Don't fret, I'll come with you. And then we shall see about reacquainting you with the Middle Earth side of the West."

Lothlórien / Re: Checking On The In-Laws
« on: October 20, 2019, 02:29:24 AM »
So often had she led and others followed, in many a path, time and situation. And while it did not particularly burden her; indeed, Galadriel had chosen from the very beginning of her time in Middle Earth, perhaps even before then, to not only allow herself to be gravitated to, but foster such a turning to her in times of turmoil and ill-guidance, that did not mean that it had never wearied her. It was the price of being great, with or without the pound of flesh extracted that was being as a Ring-bearer was.

Though perhaps, really, that was why her friend had cut so deeply into her with his words. Elrond was not infallible, but he was one of the Eldar, and one of the few Galadriel had ever suspected would fall into playing off the 'who's experience was more painful' game that many succumbed to and few ever had the wisdom to rise above. Where callous, if pained, words were concerned, she understood their fundamental roots-- though knowing did little to make the sting of emotion less. It was disappointing; he was wiser than this...wise enough to have known better, and to know better now than to expect his lapse towards her to be brushed aside.

(Though perhaps, a small part of her acknowledged, she was expecting too much given the traumatic, guilt-ridden loss they had sustained-- painfully recent by the standards of memory set by any of the free races.)

Thus, while she inclined her head at his desire for company, certainly didn't refute it, the formality of it where easiness, if not open warmth, was usually present, was telling. It was telling more than ever now, it seemed and even as she mounted the steps (bare-footed, usually amusing, but a comfortable habit clearly put to use despite the earliness of the day for just that: self-comfort) to lead him to the arbour where tea would be waiting (elven attendants being the surreptitious, observant creatures they were), for open warmth was a trait distinctly come from the mother to the daughter and wife now sailing, fate unknown, for Valinor.

It was an unknown fate that would haunt the darker, shifting depths of Galadriel's sea-coloured gaze to her dying day, or her own departure, should she survive to see it. As many things would, most used to guide the world before her time faded, but none quite so deeply personal.

"Arwen is well," she said finally, though still with telling politeness. Seating herself easily on the cushions before the low table, Galadriel smoothed her skirt over crossed legs still rangy and strong as any ellon's, little changed in the passing millennia aside from the occasional extra ache not spoken of in polite company that came from no longer being able to swim and ride and climb as she'd once had the freedom to do, in those troubled but golden days of Doriath.

"But we both know you could have sought her out yourself, if it was your intention."


[I'm so sorry we're gonna need your expert skills because she's prepared to wait him out and thus be thoroughly not talkative xD].

Other Times; Other Places / Re: & though she'll grow & someday leave
« on: October 08, 2019, 10:19:59 AM »
Of all manner of retort and retaliation to cross her mind (no matter how briefly it did), few left in the world would suspect Lady Galadriel of the former of which had crossed her mind first and strongest. By all of Varda's stars though, he was making it all too easy to give into such vengeance, and though she knew everything said was said simply to get a rise from her, knowing and remembering it were two different things. If anything, knowing better made it harder at times, because what might have passed over the heads of others when the former Prince of Doriath spoke rarely passed over hers anymore.

If it ever actually had.

Though if she was honest with herself (and so it seemed the case at this time of night, no matter how begrudging), there was 'ever a small part of Galadriel that enjoyed it. Even when the playful goading and the teasing risked toeing over the line into argument or temper flare, she would ponder Celeborn's sleeping form often in the small hours before dawn and with it, wonder if the Valar's omniscience had seen enough of her future, far from Valinor though it now was, to realise that no matter the occasional negative fall out, she needed the soul her own half had cloven to to be one who would, quite simply, let her be. Not that she would ever trade what she had and what she wished for -- to lead, to rule and watch over on her own terms -- but with that ambition had come the steadily growing constructs of control and calm, accountability and distance-- not things that had come entirely naturally to the the energetic, strong-willed Artanis.

Ah, but her mind had wandered, or would wander, later and in countless times in the future. At the present though, it was a passing thought, dominated by the exertion of her will that prevented her from retaliating with her teeth against the calf presented all too temptingly under her cheek, petty but satisfying revenge for his being a pest. It wouldn't have been the first time she'd done it, lunging to bite at whatever was closest in the absence (or inability) of a suitable verbal riposte, but the part of her that was now always aware of her baby and her needs kept her from acting it out. Celebrian was many wonderful things, including, it seemed, thoroughly entertained the more mobile her expressions became with the sight of the adults around her coming to strife, but Galadriel felt the violent, if hilarious, reaction biting Celeborn would bring about would tax even her daughter's cheerful tolerance.

Still, the tempting thought simmered there in another part of her periphery, though Galadriel merely sniffed in the end at her Lord.

"If that is the case, it's only because I'm going to be the disciplinarian. I don't need to see ahead to predict the extent of your uselessness," she muttered, but even the surliest of moods couldn't bear up against the grin she was being proffered again, sleepy and upside-down though it was. Mother's bias though it was, Celebrian was already at her most beautiful when she smiled-- though personal bias kept even the Lady from consciously realising that that heart-melting, all-encompassing smile was as such because it had come from herself. She saw the colouring of her child and reflected fondly (and perhaps with some relief, for Celebrian's sake) that she was, indeed, Celeborn's blood-- but the large, leaf-shaped eyes that crinkled at the corners, the wide cheekbones and wide lips taking form more and more as the days went on even as little teeth were still absent, were entirely her own and so with them, was the little elfling currently safely ensconced between her parents given the gift of her mother's same all-encompassing, radiant smiles. It was only, as with all personal bias about one's self, that others would see what the little one had inherited.

But it was the same identical smile nonetheless that Galadriel's features lapsed into when the half-playful, half-sour face made up at both husband and daughter was met with an amused trill from the latter, and Celebrian's feet were given another passing tickle before the elder elleth settled on her side once. Firmly, mind, with her cheek snuggled into her living pillow.

"I truly have no desire to move." Not with the water so close, so steadying in her ears and thus her soul, though the stubborn pitch to her tone was softened by the contemplative glance Celeborn was given over her shoulder. "If you wish to sleep, return to camp then. Or...find your rest here. In the river grass. Stay here with us."

Other Times; Other Places / Re: & though she'll grow & someday leave
« on: August 26, 2019, 04:47:06 AM »
"Then don't. I'm quite content here and it's hot back at camp."

Galadriel was rarely prone to grumbling-- or more realistically, simply better at not doing it, considering she was doing an awful lot of it at the moment. But then, made for grousing or not, perhaps it was as simple as the possibility that she simply didn't lament over her complaints where most could see; it wouldn't very sporting, after all, or encouraging, to hear one's leader do so too often.

On the other hand, though...she wasn't a leader at present. Only a tired mother, a weary elleth, alone in company save for the one person who, regardless of race, was bound spiritually to bear witness to their companion's foibles and failings. Though she was vaguely (very vaguely) aware that to remain here as they were might end up least comfortable for him (and thus felt a touch of guilt for it), Galadriel truly had little desire to move now that her babe's needs were tended to, and shifted only to burrow her face rather petulantly into her mate's knee. Paused, mind, at the touch of sorrow that affection for Celebrian didn't quite mask, and after a moment, Galadriel's hand reached out to rub his knee gently. There was little else to do, really, even for one usually so happily eloquent-- as little to do as there had been for he, as wise or wiser, when she had remembered the keen, nauseating break that had been Finrod's snuffing from Life.

And he, at least, had had the chance to live. Nimloth's life, as with so many on her conscience from all sides of their ongoing war, had barely begun.

"What do you think, little moon? What do you want to do?" she cooed softly, turning her face upward to meet her daughter's half asleep gaze. Her spare hand reached out to tickle one of the chubby little feet dangling above her nose, Galadriel grinning despite weariness and the sombre nature of their discussion this night at the playful kick and bubbling noise that was not yet quite a giggle. "I will get you laughing before the moon is full again, I vow."

Other Times; Other Places / Re: where little selkies sing
« on: August 18, 2019, 10:33:20 AM »
An eyebrow arch, half coy, half wry and all that was pointed was her only response, but it was in moments like these that even she, now only Galadriel, was reminded of the appeal that was Thranduil. It was not, despite what even he preferred to think, in the feyness of him that the challenged presented itself; no, it was in the rawness of the man, the presence and the magnetism and even the emotion that bled through even when he was at his bleakest-- so easily overwhelming, and yet that was merely part of the appeal, in its ineffable, inexplicable way.

Which rather answered for a lot really, when it came to them-- even his teasing, even if the comment currently in question WAS teasing. They were too alike, perfectly matched only superficially, and while Celeborn was hardly meek or soft, he was quieter, slower paced if not easier-going, rarely overbearing enough to irritate her pride but never too timid to speak up, either. He was, in more than simply just looks, Telperion; her moon-- not as blazing as Laurelin but all the better for it. Steadier and enduring, rather than fervent and fiery.

Thranduil needed the same, she had long thought, even if he did not yet know it himself.

"Oh, I don't know about that," Galadriel murmured, as duplicitous in her innocence as the child now turning Thranduil's hair over in her fingers had been not a moment before. Glancing at said child with a reflective smile, and if not sharing her thoughts entirely on what exactly it was she saw of her companion's soul, it followed on nicely from it. If he took the path of curiousity, so be it; she might divulge-- many secrets flew about on windy days such as this. Though if he elected instead towards the path where filthy minds trod...well, she'd not argue that either. It would leave her mightily entertained, and though she was 'ever the first to tease and bicker with her mate, Galadriel would not deny the playful nod to his virility in his absence.

"But come, I will let you alone on such mature topics as future spouses and ruling a kingdom. You cannot fool me anyway, so there is little point trying." She wrinkled her nose at him, though it dissolved into a grin when Celebrian mimicked the expression perfectly, leaning back gleefully in Thranduil's embrace upon realising his settling her on her hip allowed her to do so. The child clearly had her mother's enjoyment of the ocean imprinted upon her, and cheerful noises emanated from where she now viewed it-- if somewhat upside down.

"Will you tell me what has brought you here? In all seriousness, and apart from the delight of my company and a visit with my Lord Celeborn."

Lothlórien / Re: i will keep you safe and strong
« on: August 12, 2019, 11:30:52 AM »
The beginnings of an annoyed nose crinkle at the younger's taunt softened as quickly when he squeezed her hand into a smile despite herself, and Galadriel wondered when, indeed, her boy had become wise. Though perhaps t'wasn't wisdom either, not quite-- wisdom wasn't necessarily needed, after all, to be kind. Or even empathetic, really; it took only a spark of imagination and the understanding of suffering as a concept to be sensitive to the experiences, whims and feelings of another, even if one did not know of the experience suffered personally themselves. Learning that though, she'd often thought in recent times, was it's own kind of wisdom.

Any remark Galadriel might have made on the matter passed by quickly however; Elrohir was, it seemed and despite his calming touch, as impatient as she had begun to be-- though perhaps for markedly different reasons. Multiple millennia of names, faces and connections meant it took a long moment for even Galadriel's memories to sort themselves; though when they finally did was clear in the widening eyes that met Elrohir's bated breath. He might not have quite succeeded at teasing her, but surprising her...

"Faolin's daughter? Truly? How..." Galadriel paused then, her gaze dropping to the water still moving endlessly before them, and it seemed her inward thoughts followed something of a similar pattern. Indeed, as many would often say, her gift was the gift of reading into hearts; the intentions and the truths and the fears of them, and for a moment the age of her was present as she considered, far-seeing, the water she was so fond of being part of.

But finally her gaze returned to the clarity of the present, and when it found Elrohir's again, it was smiling. " fitting, in actuality. I confess I cannot speak of knowing her intimately, but what I do recall-- of her, and more, her parents-- well."

The child-- no, elleth-- was also one of Elrond's protege, if Galadriel recalled, but she did not need to glance at Elrohir to think that now was not the time, if ever, to bring such a thing up. Instead, she covered her boy's hand with her own that was still free, the pressure of it as warm as the glow that seemed to be settling itself to emanate from her gaze-- indeed, there was no need for fire light or some such other trick of the light to soften and brighten the violet shade of joy and affection among the glacial blue.

"You are far too like your grand-dam for comfort at times, pia-melmë*, so if she is what you need, if you are selfless already to one another, then I am nothing but happy for you. There is too little love left in the world to be anything but."


pia-melmë - little-love [Quenyan]

Other Times; Other Places / Re: where little selkies sing [Open!]
« on: April 23, 2019, 03:41:24 PM »
"You heard him-- no pulling." Galadriel was hard-pressed not to laugh aloud at the duplicitous innocence on her daughter's face, knowing full well that while the words were different, maybe not entirely understood in even a young elf's mind, the child full well recognised the tone and the careful incline of the head proffered towards her. Even the words though couldn't be called entirely foreign, for with a sire such as Celeborn to be had, there was no such thing as baby talk unless it was Celebrian herself attempting to speak. The little one was spoken to as if she were fully coherent and conversant for the most part, something that Galadriel both appreciated and was vastly amused by in equal turns.

And, though she'd spare Thranduil the sappiness of it, it was actually rather cute to listen to, as an aside: the father musing and mumbling to himself as he was so often prone to, the baby keeping him company with her infant chattering and cooing-- whether to Celeborn or to herself didn't seem to really matter. Celebrian simply seemed happy to sit and chatter to her parents, even when the presence of others made her quiet; yet another facet of personality forming fascinatingly as the baby grew up.

"Here. I may be tall, but I refuse to hold her at your level for what will undoubtedly be an obscene amount of time." With the same duplicitous innocence as her daughter, Galadriel plopped her child into Thranduil's arms-- much to the baby's delight, as she began immediately to run her fingers -- gently, of course! -- through the wealth of white-blonde now offered to her.

Don't worry, she's not small enough to be dropped easily, not any longer." Galadriel's hand on the Woodland Prince's arm was reassuring even as her lips twitched mischievously, eyes alight with laughter though she stayed close to him to-- well, provide some kind of security, though likely not to the child now humming winsomely. Fascinated, as all Elves were, by beautiful hair-- but without any other connotation or complex association with it beyond the innocent irreverence of a baby.

"And...before we change the subject entirely, I'll do you the respect of speaking honestly, and say that while visiting and, perhaps, even resting in the Woodland Realm would be enchanting...we both know that your father and I would kill one or the other, if I attempted to settle there. I was never intended to simply follow, in the past, present or future; you know that."

Other Times; Other Places / Re: & though she'll grow & someday leave
« on: April 23, 2019, 03:17:21 PM »
The creek bubbled softly in answer of her mate's remark, in the way all things seemed to do quietly in the darkest hours of the night. Galadriel's silence was neither stony nor cold though; if anything, to say anything aloud might have been to cheapen the wealth of feeling that lay in the air at that moment-- both appreciative and anguished. Never being particularly romantic or overly sentimental did not a lack of heart make; if anything, Galadriel's heart was often too full, sometimes too much so for her own good. Trying, from the moment she had been old enough to form coherent thoughts, to allow itself self-acceptance without losing any of the pride and dignity of the House of Finwe fed to her from her mother's very breast-- in much the same way she now nursed Celebrian, and Galadriel wondered even amid the indescribable and permanent ache that was a part of one's self lost violently and too soon if Eärwen had secretly entertained the same fears for the daughter she'd once held in her arms. If those same fears, if she had indeed nursed them, had ever left her.

She'd never truly felt such empathy for her mother before. Had loved her dearly, but had preferred the company of her father and the brothers Celeborn had so succinctly recollected for her with neither expectation nor judgement at the pain that would be there forever. Now though, in the same way she longed for and missed her brothers, did the proud Galadriel long for and miss her mother.

And really, how did one even put words to...any of that? There wasn't any. Celeborn had done the best that could be done, with that simple airing of what could not be acknowledged simply.

The babe in her arms stirred some time after the quiet began to reign over the night, though, and though her voice rasped with old pain and tears long past the time they had been shed, Galadriel's smile was at its gentlest and most rare as she plopped Celebrian into her father's arms.

"Your turn, Ada," she murmured, Celebrian even hiccuping uncomfortably in accord with a need to be burped. Not that it kept the bonny baby from offering Celeborn her new, favourite form of expression-- a crooked and yet gregarious smile all too familiar even as it still lacked teeth, faltering only with another jolting little hiccup while her mother shifted so that her tired body might make a more comfortable bed out of the grass underfoot, her head finding a pillow against Celeborn's right calf.

"I want to teach her to swim, when she's a little older," Galadriel remarked softly after a moment, "In the sea, I Finrod taught me."

Roleplaying Extras / Dory's Thread Tracker 2.0 [WIP]
« on: April 21, 2019, 01:57:19 PM »

'a light when all other lights go out'

Artanis-Nerwen • Married to Celeborn 
• Lady of the Galadhrim • Keeper of Nenya


Middle Earth Threads


.:. Come Morning Light, You & I'll Be Safe & Sound .:.,
with Celeborn, in Doriath, First Age.

.:. Where Little Selkies Sing .:.
with Celebrian [baby], Thranduil, in Lindon, Autumn/Fall, S.A. 376.

.:. Checking On The In Laws .:.
with Elrond, in Lothlorien, T.A. 2510.

.:. I Will Keep You Safe & Strong .:.
with Elrohir, in Lothlorien, T.A. 2939.


.:. & Though She'll Grow & Someday Leave .:.
with Celeborn, Celebrian [baby], in on the road to Eregion, Summer, S.A. 376.

.:. Seeking An Audience With The Lady .:.
with Tinuvagor, in Lothlorien, Autumn, T.A. 2068.

.:. The Things We Hold .:.
with: Celeborn, in Lothlorien, Autumn, T.A. 2068.

.:. Because of You .:.
with Celeborn, in Lothlorien, T.A. 2068

.:. Childhood Nostalgia .:.
with Celeborn, in Lothlorien, Spring, T.A. 2941.


.:. Measure My Footsteps .:.
with Noruiniven,in Lothlorien, Summer, T.A. 2941.

Potter 'Verse Threads

OuaT Threads


Ideas/Brainstorming/To Do

* Thranduil/Celeborn/Galadriel thread, Dol Guldur plotting.

* Tinuvagor/Galadriel starter [T.A. 2070 - 2090].
[Setting: In the third hour after midnight, after  An Audience With The Lady The Things We Hold - save the fading light in our souls]

* Tinuvagor/Galadriel [T.A. 2940 -- travelling to Rivendell.]

* Elrohir/Galadriel starter [set in Rivendell, the time the White Council convenes].

* Doriath thread


I Don't Know - Lisa Hannigan

In My Daughter's Eyes - Martina McBride

Enchanted - Taylor Swift

May It Be - Enya

All Of Me - John Legend

Where My Heart Belongs - Gloriana]

Heartbeat - Carrie Underwood

[So Far Away] From Where You Are - Lifehouse

Lothlorien - RotK Soundtrack

Lothlorien - Enya

See You Again - Wiz Khalifa [Boyce Avenue Cover]

Character Profiles / Re: HP Character Directory
« on: January 01, 2019, 06:46:24 AM »
GALADRIEL :: Gwendolyn Stark

Pages: [1] 2 3 ... 8

* Tagbox

Refresh History
  • Galadriel: thread starter for Celeborn/Becca <3
    August 19, 2020, 11:22:12 AM
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