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Author Topic: Celeborn Drabbles  (Read 2089 times)


  • Guest
Celeborn Drabbles
« on: August 05, 2014, 03:58:00 PM »
I've been wanting to challenge myself and explore Celeborn some more. So I've decided to try my hand at writing drabbles, pieces of writing that are 100 words exactly. Most of these bits aren't set in any particular time or even place and are mostly book-verse with headcanon. I used the emotions list

I'll be posting them in sets of ten whenever I get a set done.


  • Guest
Celeborn Drabbles
« Reply #1 on: August 05, 2014, 04:01:00 PM »
Celeborn had to be amazed by the small babe that he held in his arms. She was almost an exact copy of him, which amused him greatly. He had assumed that their child would look more like Galadriel. Yet she had his hair.

He felt his wife's eyes on him, watching as he held their daughter and he raised his eyes to meet hers, a smile on both their faces, Galadriel's happy but exhausted and his proud and giddy. He murmured, "Celebrian," and he could sense his wife's approval as he brought their daughter back to her. She was perfect.

Celeborn never got over the feeling of her lips on his, no matter how often they connected. Whether it was a fleeting kiss before they had to separate or a long slow one meant to enjoy the fact of the matter was that Celeborn was addicted to his wife's kisses and had since they first met, returning them with eagerness and always trying to prolong it.

This was no exception and Galadriel seemed inclined to take her time kissing him as well. They had nothing important to do today and Celeborn planned on spending the morning in bed: kissing her.

Those in Doriath had cautioned him against falling in love with Galadriel for they were too different and they would never work. But Melian had told him something long ago, before he even met Galadriel: love was never easy but it was simple.

And it was with them. They argued and fought, butting heads more than once in any given week but being with her was easier than breathing and despite the difficulties of their clashing personalities, there was always love that brought them back together, their souls in perfect harmony with each other. Even when their heads were not.

Celeborn could never find forgiveness for the Feanorians. They had caused those he cared for too much pain and heartache. Between all the Kinslayings due to the Simarils, he held little love for them. During the Sack of Doriath was what hurt the most: Dior had married Nimloth and they cut him down, along with most of Doriath. Because of them, he had lost most of his family and his home.

So when he met Celebrimbor as one of Feanor's grandsons, he did not like the Elf at all. It had taken a lot of willpower to not attack him.

The last vestiges of Sauron had been destroyed. After the One was destroyed so too had Dol Guldur, a thorn in Lothlorien's side for the longest time. It had been a long, hard couple of days and although he felt weary from it all, he couldn’t help the triumphant grin he sent his wife.

He had captured it for her, everything he did was only for her, and yet her own smile was tinged with sadness but he could tell she was pleased with herself. He chose to ignore what the sadness might mean for them for the time being.

He woke up to the feeling of hair on his face and he opened his eyes to see his wife leaning over him. His fingers went to her hair, reveling in the feel of it as he pulled her gently down for a kiss, a gentle exploring of mouths.

It had always fascinated him, and that amused her, and he was entirely too smug that he could touch her long envied and desired hair. It was like silk and one of his favorite things to do was to brush and braid it for her, strands sliding easily over his fingers.

To those that knew the Elf Lord well, they could tell that he missed her. His voice was curter and temper shorter than it had been while she was around. His heart had been sick since she had left and he knew that it showed to others but he found he didn’t care.

He wouldn’t join her yet for there was much to be done but he would eventually and that made things easier. But until then, he would move like his soul was torn in two, for it had the moment she sailed. But he refused to acknowledge it.

He often would wake to soft touches from Galadriel, whether it was simply her fingers brushing over his face or her lips softly on his. They were rarely much more than feather-light touches until he stirred. It was rare for her to not touch him with some degree of softness.

His own touches were a bit more insistent usually but still soft. Even times when he was angry at her, his touch was soft. Perhaps it would be unyielding in its grip but it would never actually hurt her. He couldn’t hurt her willingly no matter how hard his grip.

He had never liked it when she touched him with Nenya, its cold metal pressing against his skin. But he would suffer through it since he refused to let it get between them that way. He had long stopped wincing when it came into contact with his skin but she knew it displeased him.

But she never removed it nor did he ask her to. It was part of their life and he would have to deal with it or leave her, something he couldn’t do. So he tolerated Nenya on his skin when she touched him for her sake.

He had heard that once someone passed a certain point of sailing their bond with their spouse was all but cut off completely but Celeborn was not prepared for it even though they had been slowly easing away from each other.

But the sudden lack of Galadriel in heart and mind drove him to his knees, causing alarm among the Galadhrim that accompanied him and the Lady. He waved them off vaguely but stayed on his knees, head bent as he felt like part of him was missing. He gave a sharp intake of breath and stood, ready to leave.


  • Guest
Celeborn Drabbles
« Reply #2 on: August 09, 2014, 04:24:00 AM »
At first glance, it might seem Celeborn's name for his wife was strictly referring to her hair for with it, she was indeed a maiden crowned with a radiant garland. But no matter how highly he thought of her hair, even before they were wed, Celeborn was referring to something completely different than simply her hair.

For him, he had seen how brightly her spirit and strength shone through and simply lit everything about her, from her eyes to her skin to her smile. So when he named her Galadriel, he knew that she would be pleased beyond her vanity.

You are my Bright One, my Light and without you I am incomplete. The fire within you, dearest, burns brightly, overpowering and overshadowing all things around you. Yet you never use that to make yourself better than others. You are my conscience and my moral center. You remind me of my better nature and how to laugh.

You've seen me at my best and at my worst, and every state in between. You, Finarfin's daughter, crossed the Grinding Ice and saw the Light of the Two Trees, yet you loved a simple Prince of the Sindar. You are my Love.

Although Celeborn rarely drank to excess, it would appear that this one time he did, if the pounding headache and the uncertainty of where he was was any indication. Yet the night before came slowly back to him as he recalled that he had been drinking Dorwinion wine with Thranduil, and Galadriel had been there.

He squinted for her but turned when her lips gently brushed his forehead, murmuring something about him being a fool for drinking so much. His lips quirked at the amusement hidden in her tone and he fell back to sleep to her stroking his hair.

It was often thought that after all these years of marriage, Celeborn and Galadriel were no longer affectionate towards one another. Perhaps they were not as open about it as they once were but there were definite signs to most that knew the couple, or either person.

It might be in the way he held her hand when they were descending the stairs or the lingering touch on the back. Or even the meaningful looks given to each other. But there was little doubt to those that knew them that they were affectionate towards one another after millennia of marriage.

It had taken Celeborn nearly a century to finally decide to sail and as the White Ship approached the shores of Valinor, there was one thing, or rather person of his mind: Galadriel. Their bond had reopened the closer the ship had gotten and he could sense her pleasure at him coming.

So when he stepped off the ship, his eyes immediately found hers and he laughed as she launched herself into his arms. His soul felt lighter than it had for a long time and he felt whole again. He was where he belonged: beside Galadriel for all eternity.

All that the Lord and Lady knew about their daughter was she had been captured by orcs and they could only imagine what she had gone through. But knowing exactly what had happened brought Celeborn to his knees, burying his head in Galadriel's skirt as she held him.

To know that the orcs had done such things to his daughter was unimaginable and he wept for her. He had first thrown up when he saw through Galadriel's mind what had happened and even now it still made him ill. The orcs would pay for what they had done to Celebrian.

The strongest feelings of dislike towards Nenya had long since gone away, melting into him allowing it within his world but simply for her sake. He could never abandon his Bearer nor could he force her to get rid of it.

Oh, he still disliked it and what affect it had on his wife but he had long accepted, grudgingly, its place in his life. As long as she wore it, he would never ask her to remove it or let it stop him from touching her hand. He would not let it win and be a barrier between them.

Celeborn could sympathize with his son-in-law to a certain extent. Elrond was losing his daughter to Aragorn, and a Mortal Life, whereas he was losing Galadriel to the Sea, even if his loss was only temporary. He doubted that Elrond would see their struggles the same, even if he might appreciate the concern.

The same time Elrond would be leaving Middle Earth, so to would Celeborn's heart. And it grieved him to know that he would also be leaving his granddaughter at some point to see his wife. But he would be there for her until the day they parted.

There were many that might doubt that Galadriel had a weakness but whenever she saw something particularly awful in her Mirror, she would cling to Celeborn for comfort, a weakness that he never begrudged his strong Lady.

His arms wrapped around her waist as she buried her head into his neck, drawing comfort and strength from him. At some point she would leave his embrace and carry on with being the powerful Lady but for now, his love and arms would be enough for her and she stayed burrowed into his chest, letting his hand stroke her hair for comfort.

Celeborn had been in many battles before, quite a few that he had lost, but this felt different somehow compared to the others. Maybe it was the fact that he felt more tied to Ost-in-Edhil than otherwise. Or that his troops had been overwhelmed by Sauron's forces, despite help from Elrond.

When he arrived in Rivendell with Elrond, he felt in his heart that he was defeated. Not even Galadriel's soothing presence in his mind, though she was in Lothlorien, was enough. This defeat would stick with him for years to come, for he felt he had let everyone down.


  • Guest
Celeborn Drabbles
« Reply #3 on: September 16, 2014, 05:00:00 AM »
He had seen the effects that pride could have on a person, between Thingol's pride and inability to listen to calmer advice leading to his death and his own wife prideful denial of the Valar's forgiveness. But even though he had seen pride's downfall and the ugliness that it caused, he had long believed he did not suffer from the sin of pride.

But it was pride that forced him to ignore Nenya's place in their life. And to think that he could have done something to save their daughter. Or worse, to think that Gaadriel would stay here forever.

She had talked many times before about an edge of a knife and right now Celeborn was teetering on the edge of stabbing someone, preferably Celebrimbor, with his steak knife. He wondered how everyone in Valinor would react if the first night here, he reenacted a Kinslaying. Most would not realize he was upset or know the reason for it. But she knew, she always knew her husband's moods and thoughts.

And he could feel her own disapproval, both for his thoughts towards her cousin as well as his thoughts about a Kinslaying. He would avoid the flash of warning.

He knew that he shouldn't have insisted that she show him what happened at Alqualondë, to help him understand. But he did and his thoughts were flooded with the images and sounds and scents of that fateful day. He could see the body of the Teleri floating in the water, hear the screams of pain and horror, and smell the coppery scent of blood.

And he had to pull away before he lost what little he had eaten that day, tears running down his face as he pulled her to him and kissed her, absolving her and seeking comfort himself.

Ever since she had left, all Celeborn wanted to do was curl into a ball and sob. Their bond, which had been a constant comfort to him, had been all but cut off, leaving him bereft. And for the first few weeks Haldir and his brothers had left him to grieve. But eventually they forced him to get up and care for himself, and Lothlorien.

But there was this deep sadness about him and he brooded more than before she sailed, his mood more often than not foul and his temper short. Yet soon he knew that he would sail.

If one could hear how Celeborn talked to and looked at his wife, the most common word was adoration. It was no secret that he had been besotted by her from the moment that he saw her and that the feeling had never truly left. It was shown in the softness of his eyes, the small smile on his lips, the distraction when she entered the room.

Celeborn adored his wife and it showed and he cared not who knew it. For he wished that others would find the happiness that he had with Galadriel: true love and utter bliss.

There were many that worshiped Galadriel and her beauty: from Feanor to Celebrimbor to Gimli, all in their own way of course. But it she was a deity to be worshiped then Celeborn was her most fervent supplicant and devoted follower, her High Priest. But she was not a goddess, though he believed that she should be treasured as if she were.

She had seen the Valar and laughingly said that she was not they, nor would she have her husband struck down for equating her with one. So he kept his worship to more pleasurable ways and loved her.

There was considerable joking among the Elves as to which was the stronger: Celeborn's zeal for his wife or for Dorwinion wine. He was answer quickly that it was for his wife but it was no secret that he enjoyed Dorwinion wine, perhaps more that he should. But it in no way overshadowed his love for his wife. Or his enthusiasm in kissing her.

Or how easily and eagerly she returned his kisses and embraces. Zeal made one's life exciting and Celeborn could not deny that his life with Galadriel as nothing but excited. Especially when she was so passionate.

She was his own Lady of Light. And it wasn't just because of the inner glow that came from her having seen the light of the Two Trees. No, her light was internal and representative of her spirit. Her fire and passion burned bright within her and drew others to her.

And like a moth drawn to a flame, so to was he drawn to her, whether or not that was good for him. It did not matter for they were right for each other: Morquendi to her Calaquendi, Darkness to her Light. It was not perfect but it worked.

If being a Ringbearer was tiring then so to was being spouse to a Ringbearer. For you took the troubles of the Ringbearer to ease their own burden. So it was no surprise that the night that she showed her Mirror to Frodo and Sam, she found him crumpled on their bed, a sigh passing his lips when her fingers stroked his unbound hair.

No words were spoken as she held later, humming a wordless lullaby to ease him to sleep, hands continuing to run through his hair. And as he gave in to sleep, her lips brushed against his.

Some might call his anger towards Nenya an obsession, which would be fairly accurate. For it was constantly on his mind and often soured his thoughts towards his wife. Which was surprising considering how much he loved her. But it has been said that at times there is a fine line between hatred and love, not that he could ever hate his wife.

But even he had to admit that he let his hatred of her Ring overshadow everything else, including his common sense. Of course, maybe its control of her uncovered a deeper running obsession of his: over her.


  • Guest
Celeborn Drabbles
« Reply #4 on: September 16, 2014, 04:49:00 PM »
He paced as he ranted about why she had to leave Ost-in-edhil and go to Lothlorien. He knew that she would prefer to fight beside him. But that wasn't the reason for his considerable rage and she knew it, and knew the real reason. He stood at the balcony, knuckles white from his grip, as he shook with barely contained anger.

At her touch to his back, he stiffened and pulled away from her. She knew why he distrusted the Dwarves, which was the reason for his anger towards her. “Leave me alone!” There was nothing but silence, eery silence.

He swirled the last of the wine in his goblet as he sat by himself, brooding at being in Middle Earth. He scowled and emptied the goblet before he stood, stalking out of the room and up to his chambers. The Wardens knew better than to get in his way.

His anger was not directed at anything in particular but rather a way to fill the emptiness from her having left him. He was eager to feel almost anything but loneliness and yet he simply lay on his bed and whispered one name so forlornly, over and over again, “Galadriel.”

Although Galadriel's anger tended to be rather short-fused, it tended to be short-lived. His however was slow-simmering and long-lasting. He let it stew and fester before letting it out, either by arguing with his wife or taking it out in sparring sessions with Haldir. Most people knew better than to talk to him more than necessary.

Of course, his wife was not most people and she grabbed his arms as he brushed past her, glaring at him before hauling him down for a bruising kiss. It was one of the few ways without talking that she could calm him down.

It is said that there is no fury like a woman scorned but nothing was said about the fury of a man whose wife had an admirer. Celeborn wasn't sure who to be more angry with: Celebrimbor for making Nenya or Galadriel for taking it. He decided on Celebrimbor and stalked out to talk with him.

Galadriel tried to stop him but he just glared at her and went on his way. Or tried to before she stood in front of him and slapped him. He stood stunned before he bowed his head, his anger leaving him just like that.

He was enjoying watching her eat. He had asked the cooks to prepare her favorite foods and bring it to their rooms for a private, intimate dinner with just the two of them. Her eyes had lit up when she saw the food and the look she sent him was appreciative.

Of course, there was also the fact that he could kiss the whipped cream off the corner of her mouth before fully kissing her on the lips, dessert forgotten for the moment as they simply enjoyed each other's presence, the taste of sweet cream still in her delectable mouth.

His look was sharp at her silent rebuke at his words towards Gimli and her gaze was unyielding as their wills battled for dominance. He suddenly looked away from her, his displeasure obvious to most people. His posture was stiff and he was ignoring her.

It wasn't until later that night that he came to her, humble and torn. Her gentle hands cupped his cheeks as she sensed how sorry he was, her lips soft as she accepted his submission to her, and to her alone. He rested his forehead against hers and released the breath he had been holding.

He was amused that Gimli was so taken with his wife, something that surprised him. Not the fact that he was taken with Galadriel, for Celeborn could understand that easily. But rather he was amused and not insulted or upset. For her knew where his Lady's heart lay: with him and him alone.

He met her amused glance across the room and he smiled softly when her eyes brightened noticeably when she was looking at him. Yes, he could understand perfectly why so many were infatuated with her for he was still besotted with her even after all these years.

He had asked her to meet him in their rooms and place the blindfold on, closing their bond so she couldn't sense him. He smirked when he saw her stiffen when she heard his footsteps approach, obviously waiting for what he would do next.

She nearly jumped when he stroked her cheek briefly. Her fingers grabbed his tunic and pulled him to her and kissed him eagerly, the anticipation he had created making her impatient for his kiss, which made him chuckle against her mouth. Not that he was complaining that she had grabbed onto him. His plans weren't important.

Celeborn had always been less optimistic than most people around him. He had seen too much death and destruction in his life to be otherwise. Between both his parents being killed by orcs early on and then what happened in Doriath and Celebrian and...he could go forever.

He sighed as he leaned against a tree, missing his wife desperately. And there was no one to hold him and comfort him since she was the source of his sorrow and she had left for Aman less than a year ago. He glanced around at the trees as he silently said farewell.

He laughed as the twins all but attacked him when they first saw him, managing to drive from his knees and onto his back. He yelped when they started to tickle them, grinning at them as he tried to tickle them back. He laughed again as he heard their squeals as he worked on making them laugh.

His eyes were bright as he grinned up at his wife, daughter, and son-in-law. He whispered something in the Elflings' ears and smirked as he watched them launch themselves at Galadriel, pointedly ignoring her playful glare, well aware that she enjoyed his antics.


  • Guest
Celeborn Drabbles
« Reply #5 on: September 21, 2014, 03:36:00 AM »
Grasping: There were tears in his eyes as he knelt crumpled after the messenger told them what had happened to Celebrian. It made it hard for him to see anything, his vision becoming blurry as his tears made wet paths down his cheeks. But he could sense her approach and could see her blurred form in front of him as she knelt beside him.

She said nothing to him but held onto him, drawing him close and letting him grasp onto her like a lifeline. They could only hope that their daughter would heal even if they both had their doubts.

Agitation: Celeborn was rarely nervous, or at least outwardly so. But this was one occasion that he felt justified in feeling that way: the birth of his first child. So he paced back and forth in front of the door that led to their rooms, jumping every time it opened, eager for news about his wife and child.

Those that were there simply shook their head until it was time to meet his newborn daughter, and he was terrified that he would hurt her. But all those worries fell away as a silver-haired babe looked up at him full of trust.

Calm: He watched her pace in front of the fire, amused that she was the impatient one and he the calm one, since it was usually the other way. She sensed his amusement with her and glared at him, which simply made him smirk at her.

She had no reason to be nervous, this was Celebrian's second time giving birth. Plus, they both knew Elrond was an excellent healer. Yet Galadriel was acting like he had for their daughter's birth. Which was odd but Celeborn chose not to dwell on it. He was the calm in the midst of the storm.

Astonished: Celeborn had long loved Artanis and had since he first laid eyes on her. But he long thought that it was impossible for her to love him for he was merely a Sindarin Prince, and a distant one at that, while her grandfather had been the High King of the Noldor.

But he was rather surprised, but pleased, when he found that she did indeed return his affections, evidenced by the ferocious, passionate kiss she had given him that had left him in daze for days afterward. Of course, he had returned the kiss just as passionately but who wouldn't?

Loneliness: One of the worse parts of fighting in the Last Alliance was the feeling of being alone. This had been the furthest and longest that Celeborn had been away from Galadriel and he missed her constant presence by his side. She was still in his mind, though still fairly distant, but that was not quite the same.

Her plan had been to join him after sending Celebrian to Lindon but that never happened and they had both gone to Lothlorien as Sauron approached. He lay down on his blanket and sighed, wishing he could hold his wife in his arms.

Lust: Their mouths were glued together as fingers shed clothing. For Celeborn, their year of engagement had been the longest year of his life and he was glad that they were finally wed and could fully enjoy each other. He had long wanted to explore her body but couldn't until now and he knew that he would never not lust after her: his beautiful wife.

But a sharp nip on his lip forced him from those thoughts and back to the present and a very eager wife who was getting impatient with him and his apparent dallying. Which he didn't mind.

Longing: They had been separated for far too long and the moment Celeborn stepped off the ship in Valinor, his arms were filled with Galadriel and her lips were against his, kissing him like she was starved for him, which likely the case.

He had been longing for her and her touch since the moment she left and it had only gotten stronger the longer he had waited and the closer he came to Valinor. So he sighed with relief as he buried his face into her hair and breathed in her scent and presence, his love murmured on her neck.

Tender: The morning after the One had been destroyed, she had seemed so exhausted yet relieved that he had almost been afraid to touch her, even though she obviously wanted, no needed his comfort. So she was not pleased with his reluctance to touch her, even if it was well-intentioned.

But she did not complain that his touch was feather-light and careful, fingers brushing over the curves of her face and his lips were soft and sweet against hers. And he simply held her against him, letting her head rest against his shoulder as he rubbed comforting circles on her back.

Hard: It was obvious to most people that the Elf Lord was angry, his face stony and body held stiffly. Even his eyes were hard and cold, like ice. But harder and icy-er still was the face and eyes of his wife as they stared each other down. The tension was palpable and hung thickly in the air.

But neither would be the first to melt, at least not yet, and Celeborn turned abruptly away and headed to his study, glaring at any that got in his way. He heard the door to their rooms slam and he sighed in frustration.

Rebirth: He blinked as he stared at the face of the Elf he viewed as father whom he had seen killed by Dwarves millenniums before. It would seem that he had been let out of the Halls of Mandos and looked like he had when Celeborn was an Elfling.

The familial resemblance was striking and he heard a gasp as someone realized just how alike the two of them truly were. He glanced to see his daughter stare between the two, mesmerized by how much she seemed to resemble Thingol. He smirked at her surprise and noted the same on Thingol.


  • Guest
Celeborn Drabbles
« Reply #6 on: September 27, 2014, 03:15:00 AM »
Amused: It was always entertaining to watch the twins squabble, even when they were older. Or perhaps even more so once they were older and had more things to argue about. And as long as they didn't try to murder each other, Celeborn was more than willing to simply watch them and amuse himself.

He gave a snort at a jab to their father before he added his own comment about Elrond. Which made them turn their jabs to him and the day soon dissolved into them ganing up on him, much to the amusement of his wife, who simply laughed at the glare he sent her for her amusement.

Broken: When she told him that she planned on sailing, Celeborn choked back a sob. For she had done it during an informal meeting and he couldn't actually cry. No, his tears and anger came later that night as Galadriel held him but would not apologize. And he pulled away and turned to face away from her that night in bed.

But he truly sobbed when she left and he was back in Lothlorien. He was alone and felt like something inside him had broken in two the moment that she left.

Abused: Most of the time, she managed to keep Sauron out of their bond, and away from his dreams but he sat up with a silent scream. She had sat up with him and took one look at him and held him to her, gently coaxing him to show her what had happened.

The sights were awful and bile rose in both their throats as they saw what poisoned things the Dark Lord had planted into Celeborn's dreams, twisted images and horrid laughter as Galadriel gently stroked his silver hair, calming them both down and giving comfort to both of them.

Tranquil: The pools within Caras Galadhon were always peaceful but the private one for the Lord and Lady was especially so. It was in such pool that Celeborn was relaxing in, floating in the cool water on his back. He sighed, completely relaxed and eyes closed.

But he could still sense when his wife approached their pool and turned to watch her join him in the cool water. He suddenly pulled her to him and simply held her, breathing in her scent and drinking in her presence. She splashed him and he lunged at her, their laughter ringing though the clearing.

Composed: He glanced at her to see how his wife was handling the news of Gandalf having fallen to a Balrog and he could tell that she was grieving, though she hid it well. Granted, she generally hid her emotions behind a curtain of serenity. But he knew otherwise, not only from their bond but also from having been married to her for so many years.

Although she met his glance, she would not cry for Gandalf, or at least not until they were alone. Until then, she was perfectly calm and composed, every bit the Queen she wanted to be.

Glad: He had waited anxiously nearby the Mirror as she showed it to Frodo and Sam, dreading what would happen there while the One Ring was within her easy grasp. She had told them that she knew Frodo would offer it to her and that made him worry about this.

He could tell when she was tempted and the rush of relief when she refused. When she came to him, he held her close to him, glad that she had decided to remain Galadriel and not become the Dark Queen. She smiled against his neck and she was relieved as well.

Stress: Galadriel's pregnancy was not easy on her and she often took it out on him. He was really the only one that she could do so with. Her mood swings were rather volatile and he was ever on edge around her since anything he said, or didn't say, could set her off.

So he was glad when the baby was born and Galadriel was hf/er normal self, his breathing a little easier as he held his daughter in his arms, his wife amused since she knew his thoughts. He gave her a quick kiss of apology for thinking like that.

Serenity: The second best thing about Aman, after of course Galadriel being there, was the sense of peace and healing that it brought his soul. It had been as damaged as badly as others such as his daughter but there was something about being here that eased all the little hurts that had been built up over the years.

Plus, he was able to see those he had not for many years and say things he never got to say, which was also very healing. So, all in all, Celeborn was glad he had reunited with his wife in her home.

Colorful: So much of his life was full of browns and grays from the hair of people to the stones of Menegroth. So when their distant kin approached, the main thing people spoke about was their hair. And Celeborn was enthralled when he saw their hair.

It was a golden color that was unheard of among the Sinda, who were most dark-haired with a few with  blond. It was for this reason that she first drew his attention, hair a color that had never been seen in Doriath, which amused her to no end when he mentioned this later to her.

Coping: He stared straight ahead of him, unseeing as Haldir spoke to him. The Marchwarden seemed to tell that Celeborn wasn't paying attention to him and nodded respectfully as he left, leaving Celeborn very much alone to his thoughts.

Outwardly, it would seem that Galadriel's sailing had done little to Celeborn but those that knew him well could tell that he was simply going through the motions. The only thing that would really fix things was if he joined her in Aman, which would not likely happen for awhile. So Celeborn simply coped with the fortunarely temporary loss of his wife.


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Celeborn Drabbles
« Reply #7 on: October 15, 2014, 04:55:00 PM »
Boisterous: Laughter rang out as two small Elflings plowed into Celeborn, nearly knocking him over in the process. He gave a grunt as they giggled, trying to climb all over them. But he would stay standing, until they managed to force him on his back somehow, trying to tickle him as he lay at their mercy. Their favorite thing to do to their grandfather was to try and tickle him: especially since since he tickled them back, their squeals sounding in the air.

It was after a few moments of rest that they were up again, rushing to bother someone else.

Placid: The water before him was still and it added to the peacefulness of the afternoon. Neither he nor Galadriel had anything to do and so, after a morning of swimming in the lake and picnic lunch, he was enjoying laying back with his head in her lap, gentle hands brushing through his unbound hair.

Words between them were generally unneeded and right now was no exception. A sigh left his mouth but it was one of contentment and a soft smile quirked the corners of his lips as the soothing motion of her hands in his hair made him happy.

Tired: It was always good to see his family but the ride back was always exhausting. And the rising darkness certainly didn't help matters at all. He caught her frowning at him as she could sense his thoughts and he tried to let his worried go away but they weren't leaving his mind.

He glanced at the bed longingly and her laughter rang as she shoved him over to his dresser to change for bed and he gave her a mock glare, even as he changed and slid into bed, a sigh leaving him even as she was amused by him.

Bliss: It was the moment after their union that always made Celeborn feel the closest to his wife and the happiest. She wasn't eager to let him go and so he simply lay on top of her, trying to not squish her even as she pulled him close to her.

His lips pressed an absent kiss to her collarbone, letting his love and contentment washing over the two of them. He eventually off her and drew her to him but for now he would revel in their closeness and grinned against her skin as he pressed another kiss to her shoulder.

Neglect: He could tell that his time in Middle Earth was nearing an end when he was starting to become disinterested in running Lothlorien. He knew that it was still a few years until he sailed to join his wife but he wasn't sure it was fair to those left in Lorien to have a ruler whose heart wasn't in it any more.

So he made arrangements for Thranduil to take over before he headed to Rivendell to wait until he was fully ready to be with Galadriel again. Maybe when Samwise sailed, he would join the Hobbit and see her.

Fine: If anyone asked him how he was doing once she sailed, he would tersely say that he was fine, in tone that said the topic was off-limits. But to those that knew him, they could tell he was not fine. There was a lack of light in his eyes and he smiled less and less. His eyes became sadder and his temper shorter.

But when he saw her again, he knew that he would be fine and that he would not leave her again, or at least let her leave without him. And everyone could tell that he was fine.

Question: He stared at Elrond with a question on his lips but unable to form it. If it was his wife, then words would not be needed but he didn't have that bond or ability with Elrond. Instead he simply glanced at his daughter, eyes concerned and questioning. The Half-Elf shook his head, telling him silently the answer he was dreading: Celebrian was going to need to sail to heal fully.

He turned and met his wife in the hall, eyes telling her what she needed to know and they silently stood and clutched each other, drawing comfort from each other.

Energetic: He bounced on the heels of his feet, eager to get the sparring started. The younger Warden that had challenged him to a spar was looking far less eager and almost scared, which caused him to grin feraly, which in turn made his wife roll her eyes at him.

But the spar soon began and he moved with grace but a definite amount of youth-like energy, grinning at his wife like a pleased Elfling when he won, panting slightly but with slight challenge in his eyes. Her eyes glinted as she approached him to spar with her husband, lips smirking.

Noble: Her father-name was Artanis which meant “Noble Maiden” and although she preferred his name for her, he had to admit that Finarfin had named his daughter well. For she was noble in her bearing and her intentions were generally noble. But that was not all of his wife.

But it was certainly a large part of her and he was pleased that she chose him to be her partner in all that she did, noble or otherwise. And he could just see her with the crown that she so desperately wanted, and deserved in his opinion, biased as it was.

Disgust: He could feel her disgust as her half-cousins tried to get her to join their side in Doriath, a disgust that he felt. Her eyes snapped to his, grim humor in her visage, before she turned back to them, refusing and nearly challenging them to a fight. But they let her and everyone else go, and he could feel her disgust at their cowardice.

He let his attempts at soothing thoughts wash over her, but she could sense his own disgust and she was touched by his attempt but amused by his mirrored thoughts. They were still united in thought.


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Celeborn Drabbles
« Reply #8 on: November 22, 2014, 11:58:00 PM »
Lively: Her eyes danced as they watched each other across the room. Thingol was having a feast, for their betrothal but only they, Thingol, and Melian knew that. Celeborn glanced away briefly to speak to Galathil, only to find her approaching him and grabbing his arm.

They were swept away into the dance, a frantic piece with twirling and leaping. The world moved around them and yet all that mattered was the two of them in their own world. And Celeborn decided he could get lost in her eyes, eyes that seemed to glow with a special light for him alone.

Power: Their relationship seemed at the surface to be a rather unbalanced one with her getting all the beauty, magic, and acclaim. But he had his own power, a kind that only he had. Yes, he was wise but only he could dissuade her with any certainty of it working. Only he could make her weak, and the only one she would allow to see her as weak.

There were times when someone would ask how it felt to be married to someone more powerful than him and when they asked that question, he would ust smile enigmatically and turn away.

Pity: He had never pitied her at anytime before this. His nightmares of her accepting the One painfully echoing reality. No, he did not envy his wife the trials that she would face as she showed them her Mirror. So when she came to him later and curled against him, he felt sorry for her.

But he simply held her firmly and placed a gentle kiss on her temple, feeling her sob as what might have been hit her full on. He would be glad once the One left her reach and life could settle back into a sense of normalcy.

Humiliation: She wanted to bring the Dwarf that was with the Fellowship into their realm? He had raged silently until they arrived and then he learned what the Dwarves had done to Gandalf. Oh, he knew that they hadn't hurt him directly but a Balrog was on his doorstep and Orcs within striking range of Lothlorien. It was the Amroth incident all over again.

And she had to openly rebuke him when he snapped out of anger and grief in front the Fellowship. He had spent the night facing away from her, unable to really look at her at the moment.

Satisfied: He sighed as he settled back on the mattress with Galadriel collapsing next to him, sated and tired. He enjoyed their times of intimacy and idly stroked down her spine as she used his bare chest as a pillow. Her hand rested lightly on his chest over his heart next to her head.

Words were not needed as they could feel the other's satisfaction as if it were their own. It was in that position that Galadriel felt into a peaceful sleep while Celeborn stayed awake a few moments longer, simply watching her fully relaxed and happy. Then sleep came.

Thankful: He had barely dismounted his horse when a young Elleth threw herself into his arms, holding him tight. He smiled down at his daughter placing a kiss on her forehead. She whispered that she was glad he was home safe and withdrew, going to greet Elrond. His amusement at that was cut short by the feeling of her mind brush against his.

He drew his wife into his arms and kissed her rather soundly. He could tell that she was glad that he was unharmed especially when so many hadn't. There would be much to talk about but could wait.

Hyper: What had possessed him and Galadriel to agree to watch his grandsons? The two of them were horrors, cute though they may be. They had already made a mess of the sitting room and he was half-inclined to lock them in their room and let Galadriel ease his growing headache.

All the sudden she came and sat behind him, letting her fingers massage his neck and shoulders, murmuring that she had gotten them to go to sleep. He sighed and let the tension from his two rather energetic grandson's ease under her ministrations. He could feel her amusement at that.

Goosebumps: There were times when he still got chills from things that she said, or the way that she looked either at a person or into space. Like now when she spoke to the Fellowship and talked about Gandalf in particular. Or rather them being on the edge of a knife. Luckily, his robes hid the obvious signs of his unease.

She glanced at him a moment later, concerned yet knowing. He could detect the slight amount of remorse for causing him to feel that way. He responded by grabbing her hand and squeezed. He knew that she couldn't help it.

Worthless: The words from the past of how he wasn't good enough for her, or anything, echoed in his head as he could feel Sauron try and use him to get to Galadriel. He nearly cried out in despair and gave a choked sob. But soon he could sense Nenya shielding him from Sauron.

The relief was palpable and he gasped out a ragged breath as he collapsed on the ground. It took no time for her arms to circle around him and pull him to her shoulder, whispering how much worth he had to her, soothing him with her words.

Remorse: He didn't want to kill them, fellow Elves, but they had attacked his home, as well as those he cared for. He could see that Galadriel was having flashbacks to Alqualonde and the Kinslaying there. He wanted to go to her and comfort her but that could wait until they were safe.

He cared his great-neice Elwing to safety later and it was in his tent with Galadriel that he admitted that he was sorry for killing those that tried to hurt his family. And she didn't say anything but he knew that she understood, better than most could understand.


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Celeborn Drabbles
« Reply #9 on: December 22, 2014, 05:39:00 PM »
Celeborn gaped as he watched with his own eyes exactly how far his wife's half-cousins were willing to go for the Simarils. He had known all these people, some of whom were his close kin. He couldn't believe, despite what Galadriel had shown him all those years ago, that Elves could be capable of such atrocities.

He managed to hold it together until they had stopped for the night after escaping the burning ruins of Doriath before he dry heaved and then broke into sobs, clinging to his wife as she pulled him to her, comforting him for she understood.

They had to physically keep him from lunging at Feanor when he met the Elf after he sailed to Valinor. All he saw was red and he wanted to make sure that he paid for all the pain he had caused Doriath and the Teleri. It was Galadriel that got him to calm down, her hands cupping his face and forcing him to look at her.

She knew his pain and anger and understood it but her voice in his head said that Feanor had paid for his transgressions already. And he simply leaned his forehead against hers, suddenly tired.

At first Celeborn was confused by what happened until a warm body stretched against him with a familiar blond head and he remembered the last night he and Galadriel had married. Her hand on his chest stroked his skin and he gave her a satisfied, and slightly dopey, grin, pleased that she was finally his, completely.

He pulled her closer to him and simply kissed her, soft and sweet and lingering, taking time to simply enjoy the act of kissing her. He could definitely see himself enjoying time like this for all eternity. Her hand smacked his chest at that.

He stared at the ground when she rebuked him, publicly, in front of the Fellowship. She didn't even keep her words to their bond. Was she trying to make him look a fool? She knew his reasons for being angry with the Dwarf. But what hurt the most was the fact that she was blocking him from trying to talk to her.

He knew that he would eventually apologize fully to both her and Gimli but for now, he let everything seethe and fester. He was good at those things, though perhaps not as good as others of his race.

When he sparred, it often felt like he was dancing with his opponent, his movements graceful and elegant from years of practice. OF course, he had asked his wife what she saw when she sparred and she simply said a deadly dance.

Of course, he would often after that pull her into a dance, enjoying her laughter at his antics. She laughed far too little anymore with the approaching darkness in the world. His movement were still very graceful, his pace slowing to simply swaying as he held her close to him, enjoying the closeness that the dance afforded them.

He could still remember his breath being stolen the moment he laid eyes on her, the Light of the Two Trees settling about her whole being. She literally shined in a way that only Thingol and Melian had. But something stirred in him, and like a moth drawn to the flame, so he to was drawn to her.

And her eyes had their own light, blazing as she met his eyes for the first time. And he realized that the light he saw came from more than the Two Trees. For even way back then, her eyes shined with love.

There were times when he had the need to do something, anything, to relieve boredom. Granted it was when his wife was gone that he felt the need to occupy himself.

And then, there were slow, cold evenings where they sat on a couch in front of the fire, warmed wine in their glasses, and his arms around her waist. It was times like this when he simply was happy to bask in her love and simply enjoy her company. He pressed a soft kiss to her temple, smiling against her skin when she leaned into such a simple touch.

Some that looked at the Lord of Lothlorien said that he had no feelings, that he was made of steel, sharp and unyielding. But those that knew him at all knew that he simply kept his emotions under control, except his anger. That was the one emotion that had a tendency to boil over at the slightest provocation.

This was something Galadriel sometimes used to get him to talk to her, egging him on to get him to explode and say what was really wrong. And it was something he knew she did but that didn't stop it from working.

He had been working on this particular gift for a few years, simply because he had no smithing skill yet wanted to make the necklace himself. It had taken quite a bit of careful planning and skillful blocking of her in his mind for it to work but it was worth the effort when she opened the wooden box, which he had also made, and saw the swan necklace he had made.

She had beamed at him and given him a long, soft kiss, all of which made him grin like an Elfling, pleased that he had made her happy.

There was a surge of relief that flooded through him when he felt her refuse the One when Frodo offered it to her. And it was more than relief that he didn't have to do something about a Dark Queen ruling Middle Earth but the fact that she would remain Galadriel.

But there was also a sense of sadness since he knew she would be sailing no matter how this war ended. Yet he chose instead to focus on his relief, especially when she buried her head in his shoulder and simply clung to him, taking comfort in his embrace.


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Celeborn Drabbles
« Reply #10 on: February 10, 2015, 04:24:00 AM »
I am the Prince of Doriath, the great-nephew of King Elu Thingol of Menegroth. I am the brother of Galathil and uncle of Nimloth. I am a survivor of the fall of Beleriand and of the Last Alliance.

I am the Lord of Lothlorien and of the Galadhrim. I am the father of Celebrian and the grandfather of Elladan, Elrohir, and Arwen. I am the husband of Galadriel and her beloved. I am the keeper of her heart and love.

I have her heart and she has mine. I am her Silver Tree, her Silver Tall one. I am Celeborn.

His lips still followed hers after she pulled away, a laugh in her voice at his actions. He pouted briefly until her lips were against his, teasing a moment before he pulled her closer to deepen the kiss.

She momentarily tried to push away, though why he was unsure, but she soon gave up, giving into his, and her, rising passion. Even if for now it stayed simply to kisses. And hands tangled in hair. Her hands went to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to her, their bodies flush against each other as they simply enjoyed their kiss.

Celeborn choked back a sob as he stood in the bedrooms that used to belong to him and his wife. He didn't think that having her not be here any more would be this hard but he couldn't help the tears that poured down his cheeks. He slid to the ground and wrapped his arms around his knees. There was silence for a long time before Haldir cleared his throat.

Celeborn nodded his head and watched Haldir through blurry eyes as they moved his things to a different part of the Hall, away from all the painful memories of her.

He had made plenty of boats before, mostly toys for the children that he knew: Nimloth, Elwing, Celebrian, and his grandchildren. They were all big enough to fit small Elfling and yet here he was making a far bigger one, though he wasn't sure why. Maybe it was to alleviate missing her. Of course, it had been a few centuries since he last made a boat.

His hammer came down and he bit back a rather nasty curse in Orcish as he nursed the pain radiating through his hurt thumb. But he saw the amusement in Haldir's eyes and glared.

He hummed cheerfully as he stood on the bow of the ship that took him to Valinor. He was downright giddy as he thought of reuniting with his beloved wife. Those that were with him could tell that Celeborn was much happier the closer that the ship got to Aman.

A cry arose as they saw the shores and time passed in a flash and before he knew it, he was stepping off the boat and had Galadriel in his arms, laughing as he swung her around happily. Their laughs intermingled and for the first time, Celeborn was happy again.

If Celeborn thought he was pleased when he and Galadriel married, nothing could prepare him for holding his child in his arms, a child he felt was long time in coming. Yet holding his daughter with her silver hair and blue eyes, a perfect blend of her parents, made him grin happily. She looked up at him and yawned, snuggling close to his chest and he brought her over to Galadriel, though did not relinquish his hold on the baby quite yet.

His wife didn't mind and rested her head on his shoulder, pleased but exhausted, as Celebrian slept peacefully.

People often asked how he was dealing with her being gone and he would tersely say that he was doing just fine. But underneath it all, he was simply dealing with it. In time, everything would fine, once he joined her in Aman. But until he stood on those blessed shores and held her once again, he would simply have to deal with things and move through life in a haze, a dark and moody one.

At least he still had all three of his grandchildren with him until he could see her again. And so he dealt with it.

His thought were somehow light and airy yet deep and complex as he stared at the water outside of the Grey Havens. Tomorrow he would sail to see her but now was the time for contemplation. He had seen much in his long life and was frankly starting to feel his over 8,000 years.

His fingers idly stroked his wedding band as he simply stared out at the sea, the sea he would soon be crossing. He gave a sigh but it was not as despondent as his had been before. The sun set but he stayed where he was.

He refused to meet his brother's pleading look. It was entirely Galathil's fault anyways that they were standing in front of Thingol's desk stark naked. He thought he saw Thingol's smirk when they explained that they had played a trick on some girls only to have them steal their clothes while they were bathing.

His ears were burning red as he turned his face to the ground. He muttered that he would never do it again and hurried away to try and get dressed without anyone seeing him. He heard a giggle as a young boy peeked at him, shyly.

He cradled the dead body of Galathil against him. He had died defending their great-uncle and yet Celeborn couldn't cry. He wanted to but instead anger simply boiled in his veins against the Dwarves that had slain those he cared for. He tensed when a hand landed on his shoulder and looked up to see his wife watching him with tenderness, understanding and pity.

They placed their dead in graves and it wasn't until he was alone with Galadriel that he clung to her and let his tears for his dear brother fall, her arms cradling him gently against her.


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Celeborn Drabbles
« Reply #11 on: February 10, 2015, 04:24:00 AM »
And finished >.>


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