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Author Topic: where little selkies sing  (Read 7547 times)


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where little selkies sing
« on: June 10, 2017, 01:31:15 PM »
~may you sail fair to the far fields of fortune
with diamonds and pearls at your head and your feet

timeline: The Second Age
tag: open to anyone that was alive then basically fite me xD.

Celebrian's soft noises at her back were a rather...unique accompaniment to the gurgling and the rush of the sea upon the shore, and yet for Galadriel, there was nothing more fitting in that moment that could put her more at peace. And like with her baby's presence period, she would have thought, once, that to have necessary [and occasionally noisy] company when she wished to sojourn out on her own would be something she'd find incredibly annoying...

...and yet now, just like the sea swarming white foam about her bare toes, Galadriel could hardly imagine a life without the child close by. Maternal madness? Parental insanity? Most likely. Apparently it was an unavoidable thing -- the degrees in which one suffered it simply varied.

"You're so strange, you silly little thing," she chuckled softly, her response to a diatribe of babble in response to gulls crying overhead, though the Lady-once-princess had to reach back, mid-walk, to prevent the baby from accidentally-on-purpose loosening the knot that kept the sling she was carried in secure to her mother, even if it meant living with the reality that would be her hair being grabbed in those tiny fists and gnawed on in response. She'd been developing her own personality as of late, Celebrian had, and apparently, that included something of an escape con artist's soul. Despite the fact that, quite literally, the little one was barely crawling. Dragging herself across the ground, but not crawling. Though she was even doing that with considerable speed, and Galadriel both looked forward to and dreaded the day Celebrian found her legs.

Small revenge dealt, no doubt, for whatever grief she'd given her own parents as a babe. It seemed to be the way.

She'd deal with it, though, and she'd do it with a smile even at her most exasperated. For Galadriel, in truth, had much to burden her mind as of late and had had much to burden her heart in times past that still lingered. And so, anything that gave her some joy, some peace, was welcomed. The closeness to the ocean, the sea breeze caressing her face, these were all such things even as they oft. filled her with a bittersweet nostalgia for home, and if Celebrian was to be added to this, then gladly so. In a way, if one thought about it, the child was the same as her father now -- an anchor to Middle Earth and all it held even in the darkest days, and a light to soften the darkness that was that ache of homesickness.

"Ow! No, not my ear--"

Laughingly pained was the elleth's voice as it rang out over the surf, and she was forced to pause to detach little fingers from the aforementioned pointed appendages. Yet looking entirely, just for the moment, the image of the virgin mother and child as she swung the baby over her shoulder once her ear was free, holding her aloft in her arms [and to Celebrian's giggling delight] to the backdrop of the crashing surf and the encroaching twilight, as much in play as to keep those questing, grabbing hands from hair, ear, necklace or any such accoutrements.

"You are going to be more trouble than all of Elu Thingol's court put together, you little demon cub."

A merry, toothless grin was her response, and so too was it the response over the mother's golden head to the figure of any other who came into her periphery.
« Last Edit: April 23, 2019, 03:42:32 PM by Galadriel »

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Re: where little selkies sing [Open!]
« Reply #1 on: June 11, 2017, 08:24:07 AM »
Quite unexpectedly, at least, perhaps, to the child’s mother, the figure to appear was one who had not been seen on this side of the world for far too many years, and likely one of the last figures she might have expected to find there. Coming upon the pair just in time to hear that last affectionate proclamation, he did not hesitate to answer, even if the words had not been meant for his ears.  How could they have been?
“Such high expectations for such a small girl,” the prince replied, the smile he wore easily heard in that affectionate tease.  “Should I worry that there is now a challenger to my title?”  He hadn’t set out to interrupt what had been an admittedly touching scene, but if there was one thing he could not resist, it was the opportunity to be contrary.  And Thranduil was far from unaware that he’d amassed a reputation for trouble himself, both finding it and charming his way out of it.  To think he might be so easily dethroned was a wound to the mock pride he took in his reputation.
Thranduil had wasted little time in seeking out his quarry.  Nearly fresh from the road, he’d taken only the time to see that his things had been sent to his temporary rooms before asking after the lady’s whereabouts and setting out for the shore, still dressed in his travel clothes, marking him as more than a little out of place, though he hardly seemed hampered, even when heavy boots sank into damp sand.   Though he did stop a few paces short of the water, not terribly eager to wade into the sea in his best riding boots.
“You’ll want to be sure her father doesn’t let her get away with too much.  I hear that has a tendency to create something quite insufferable in adulthood.”  Laughter sparked in his pale eyes as he angled his gaze just enough so that he might speak directly to the child.  “But between you and I,” he offered in a mock conspiratory whisper, “Don’t listen to all that.  Do just as you please and never let your father tell you not to.  It’ll work out quite well; I know from experience.” 
Lest he get too much grief for all his mischief, Thranduil left it at that, offering to Galadriel that well-practiced cheeky grin that so often worked miracles when he’d gone a step too far in his teasing. 
“Father sends his love and all his best wishes for your daughter.”  And there it was, the official reason for this visit.  “He also sends me, and insists that I behave myself lest his good wishes seem insincere.”  In truth, Thranduil had insisted upon going himself.  It had been far too many years now since he had seen Celeborn and Galadriel, and he would have very much regretted setting aside the opportunity, particularly should he have missed the chance to meet little Celebrian. 
While he had no regrets for the choices that led to his life in the Greenwood, and in truth found that life preferable even to his youthful years in Thingol’s halls, there were and always would be parts of that old life he missed.  In fact, he had spent much of the journey from Greenwood thinking up just which arguments to use to tempt his dear friends into visiting more often, for their absence was the greater part of his regret. 


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Re: where little selkies sing [Open!]
« Reply #2 on: June 30, 2017, 05:41:38 AM »
"You are a pest, Thranduil Oropherion, and there will one day be an elleth who will box your ears for it. Every day. For the rest of your life.I cannot wait."

Galadriel's voice was a perfect study in hauteur as she lifted her giggling child in the air once more, and her expression was nothing short of deadpan as she turned her head just enough to regard him over her nose. It was a snobby, bratty act, one she'd long since rid herself the temptation of indulging in, but Thranduil, it seemed, both enticed and welcomed back the juvenile in her.

And yet...she honestly could not begrudge him it either. Far from it, in fact. For though he was, indeed, a pest, he was a sincere one, and Galadriel had found his antics (and later, his won loyalty) in the court in which they'd met both diverting and oddly engaging, the lack of fear and the cheerful arrogance of the male who was almost as pretty as her own brothers had been welcoming to a proud soul in a strange place even when it had driven her half mad with ire.

Really though, we were such a disappointment to the court, she pondered, half amused by the recollection. So pretty, so alike in colour, so matched in disposition...too well, in more ways than one. Indeed, as she'd once confessed to Meilian -- Celeborn's dry humour could be condescending, and that infuriated even his lover, but attachment to Thranduil in such a manner would have ended only in a blood bath.

Still...she was glad to see him again. To know he'd survived the same tragedies she had was reassurance in itself. But to see him thriving and well, taking some responsibility even if it was intertwined with corrupting her -- currently highly inquisitive, making noises to grab attention back to herself -- daughter; it was the kind of solid peace a soul needed even when it hadn't realised it did need it.

"Fortunately for him, you came across me before you did any other. Thus, I know better your sincerity than most." Galadriel finally allowed a little chuckle, and when her baby was settled against her hip and the space between them was breached, she reached up to fit her fingers to his cheek in a gesture of the fondest of greetings.
« Last Edit: June 30, 2017, 05:43:10 AM by Galadriel »

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Re: where little selkies sing [Open!]
« Reply #3 on: July 09, 2017, 09:51:28 PM »
“One day,” he agreed, not losing any of that teasing bravado he had spent a lifetime cultivating.   “But in the meantime, I shall be forced to remain a pest, and who better to make victim of it than my dearest friend?”  Her affectionate gesture was accepted with that same easy smile he always wore when he made it his goal to torment her, though he took a moment  to set aside his teasing to take her hand in both of his, squeezing it affectionately and then placing an exaggerated kiss upon her knuckles, and all the while laughter sparkled in his blue eyes. 

He released her hand, half expecting to earn a smack (not that he wouldn’t exactly deserve it).  But, in the end, it could not be helped.  There were few whom Thranduil would tease with such free abandon, and there did come some greater degree of responsibility and manners now that his father was a king in his own right.  It was something of a relief from all that to be far from home and among friends where he did not have to think about all that duty and could simply allow himself the fun of being that pest he had been in years past. . 

“And in the event that any elleth is able to tame me, I am quite certain you will be the first to mourn the loss of all my charms. Celeborn is many admirable things, but admit it.  He was never half the fun I am.”  He loved Celeborn dearly, but it had always been far too easy to direct his rather sharp humor at the other elf, particularly because he had a feeling that it rankled him more than he had ever admitted.  Thranduil never tried to be cruel, but he often found it hard to resist a pointed comment here or there when he had sniffed out some weakness or other.

But Celeborn was not here on the shore, and so Thranduil let thoughts of him fade for the moment (he could certainly make some jibes later), turning his attention back to the child.  The hand he held out to Celebrian was somewhat tentative, unsure of how to handle himself where she wa concerned.  He’d never spent much time around children, half afraid he might break one in some fit of carelessness, and the last thing he wanted was to break Galadriel’s child.  It was half the reason he had pushed away that thought that he might ask to hold her. 

His teasing did manage to melt away for an instant, allowing another rare peek of that fabled sincerity.  “She’s a beautiful child.”


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Re: where little selkies sing [Open!]
« Reply #4 on: August 20, 2017, 05:12:53 AM »
"I'll admit no such thing." Whether it was slightly true or not. "He's an avid learner and that's suited me just fine."

For just a moment, the lovely, crooked smile gracing the Lady's features became something...not quite a leer (if any not of the fair race could even dream sanely of such an image), but with a wickedness to it regardless, a certain kind of twist to the lips and a narrowing of eyes already shaped as almonds were bringing to mind not entirely accidentally the airs of a fat, satisfied cat lazing in warm sunlight.

Galadriel was a kind and gregarious god soul though, and so she spared Thranduil any more than what his own imagination supplied, saying no more and instead following the lead in which the conversation was going, the cheerfully naughty expression softening once more as she turned her gaze too to the child in her arms. Thranduil's hesitancy was Celebrian's open appraisal, the little babe cocking her head just slightly to the side at the compliment before a gap-toothed and still somewhat gummy smile was buried promptly into her mother's shoulder, earning a startled laugh from Galadriel.

"Oh please, since when have you ever practised shyness?" Her voice was dry, and the child was jostled with a gentle insistence until large eyes popped back out to look at her, the advanced nature of the elven child in the way Celebrian, despite still being so small, seemed to understand just enough of what her mother was saying-- or perhaps even just the tone-- to offer a grin that, if only subconsciously, bordered on the sheepish.

"Don't fret, she's not upset by you. You're just a little more to take in than what she's used to. Come, she'll meet with you in her own time while we walk." And Galadriel cocked her head back at him -- with some exaggeration, mind, but there was no denying that even for her, Thranduil's height was superior and added to a presence she'd watched only grow larger as they'd aged, whether he was aware of it consciously or not. He was an impressive creature, had never not been so, but Galadriel knew the open heart that lingered beneath and loved him for it, hoped that at some point another would see it and how it contributed to his intense nature rather than was smothered by it, and love twice over what his most staunch friends already did.

"Though before we leave the topic alone -- just remember, no elf who waited too long to let another into their soul ever had a fate that was quiet." That was said with a chuckle self-deprecating and not entirely devoid of pensive memories and the knowledge they brought, though the elbow in his side was carefree enough.

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Re: where little selkies sing [Open!]
« Reply #5 on: August 27, 2017, 06:59:58 AM »
At the risk of seeming ungentlemanly (though, really, when had that ever frightened him off?), he let slide her refusal to answer his tease regarding her mate. He knew how well matched those two were, and any suggestion otherwise had never been anything more than that insatiable desire to be affectionately bothersome.  And it was still too rarely that he ever stopped to think that, on occasion, his humor might be mistaken for cruelty, especially now when royal title had silenced most efforts to challenge him.  At the very least, that was something he could still rely upon Galadriel for.  She would never have let him get away with cruelty, unintentional or otherwise.

Yet, oddly enough, that confidence cracked, if for only a moment, when Celebrian so adorably rejected his greeting.  A brow arched as he withdrew his hand, back straightening to regard the child with a curious expression of his own. She had thrown him off his game, it seemed, putting him at an, albeit brief, loss for words.  Instead he accepted Galadriel’s explanation, that amused smirk returning to his features at being described as ‘more to take in,’ and easily consented to allowing the child to get used to him on her own terms.

He feigned injury at that elbow in his side, wrapping an arm protectively around his side as he twisted his way out of her reach.  “Such an example to set for your daughter,” he teased, knowing quite well that if the girl grew up to be even a small fraction of her mother, she would turn out very well, particularly that strength of will against such an uncharitable nuisance as himself. 

Having made quite the show of ‘protecting himself,’ Thranduil settled into an easy gait at Galadriel’s side, arms clasped comfortably behind his back.  It drew back his shoulders, accentuating his height, and not at all by accident.  He would have been a liar to claim he didn’t often enjoy being the tallest one in the room, and an even greater liar still to say he’d never once taken advantage of it.  “All things come in their own time,” he answered at last, his tone growing somewhat more solemn.  It was something that had crossed his mind more than once since he and his father had gone east, but he had never been the type to dwell on it for too long.

“You could always come and visit us in the Greenwood and advise me on the subject.”  He had planned on pestering her into a visit, and the opportunist in him would not set aside the chance to lure her there using her own words.  But beyond that, there were other reasons he longed for them to visit, not the least of which was the great amount of pride he had taken in the life they had built there.  “Father would love to see you.  And I would tolerate it as best I could.”


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Re: where little selkies sing [Open!]
« Reply #6 on: October 02, 2018, 06:22:26 AM »
"Gladly," Galadriel said wryly. "My life has been anything but quiet."

Would she wish it any other way, though? Perhaps, occasionally, a wistful thought might pass by on a darker day, or in those moments, like now, when she gazed upon her tiny, innocent daughter with a mother's fretting eye, but the truth was that no, she would not. Life had never been truly complacent for Finarfin's daughter, even when she had been Artanis and little had troubled her save fighting over the last strawberries with her brothers and whether or not she might have time for a swim in the Bay of Arvalin before her lessons began. Artanis had always been crafted for bigger things in the service of herself and more, for others, and Galadriel intended to see that through. It was Fate and Fate was an inexorable thing, so why fight it for the sake of very same reasons she'd embraced it? That served nobody.

"It would be nice to dwell under the trees again for a time, yes," she allowed, lips tilting up as she continued to look down fondly on the antics of Celebrian. "She's had dreadfully little exposure to the other half of her thus far, which is entirely my fault. There is nowhere yet well enough for us to settle."

 The elfling's innate curiousity was starting to win out as inexorably as Fate's hand on her mother, the shyness of infancy losing its battle with the natural bubbliness that had recently begun manifesting itself as   the babe grew and formed her own personality. Thranduil was now an open object of fascination rather than a covert one, and blunt little fingers twitched their way forward until finally, they grasped with a kitten's tenacity at the strands of straight white blond caught up in the wind.

'Thank the heavens he's so vain and keeps his hair so long, or that might hurt,' Galadriel thought wryly. Aloud, she drew the child's attention to her with a squeeze, gently firm. "Did you ask if you could touch Thranduil's hair, sweetling?"

Her response was a surprisingly hangdog little grin for such a little one, but Celebrian was obedient if nothing else, and turned to her soulful gaze up to Thranduil's-- though she didn't loosen her grip on the lock of hair she had in the slightest, save that she no longer tugged. "Pwease?"

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Re: where little selkies sing [Open!]
« Reply #7 on: January 08, 2019, 06:55:44 AM »
“Gladly?” he asked, repeating her reply with an incredulous question that was only mostly feigned. It was a long journey, after all, simply to spend time indulging the worst behaviors of a bored princeling.  But if he were to be completely honest with himself, which did happen on occasion, Thranduil worried that Galadriel might find the Greenwood too quaint for her liking. Though he loved it dearly, even he could not pretend that the Woodland Realm could rival the splendor of lost Doriath.  Yet he let none of it show, ever the master of concealing even the smallest of cares, all for the sake of seeming frivolous… a trait which his father had become increasingly intent upon discouraging.  Can you not at least pretend to care? was the most common refrain, but surely Oropher knew the truth of it by now?  He carried far more cares than most would even guess.

“Come and settle with us,” he encouraged, doing his best not to seem overly hopeful. “I won’t lie and say I’ve not missed your company.”  In voicing this, it seemed he had let his guard down, leaving himself open to attack from a source least suspected, and before he could act in his own defense, the child had captured him quite completely...

It was almost as if little Celebrian somehow knew his weakness,for it took an immense strength of will not to forcibly unwrap those tiny fingers from his hair.  Though the thought had crossed his mind, he would never have been so cruel. Even if that innocent question hadn’t melted what was left of his resistance in a single word. Was he possibly going soft? 

No, not entirely.

Despite how easily he was won over, he would not return such sweetness without a price. Not even to Galadriel’s daughter.  As those fingers clutched at the loose strands of his hair, Thranduil drew himself up to the fullness of his height, the icy blue of his eyes casting a sidelong glance down from on high, full of all the princely indignation that was now his by right.  But it did not last for long.  Could not last, for a smile broke through of its own volition, and those sharp eyes crinkled with laughter, unable to keep up the charade for longer than a moment.

“How could anyone refuse such a sincere request?” He asked, despite those secret worries that she might unintentionally do his hair harm.  So, even as he granted the child’s request, he added, “so long as it remains attached to my head.” He regarded little Celebrian with an arched brow and a grin, a silent question in that expression.  Did she understand?  No pulling!


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Re: where little selkies sing [Open!]
« Reply #8 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."

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Re: where little selkies sing
« Reply #9 on: August 11, 2019, 05:12:11 AM »
At the offer of the child, Thranduil voiced a momentary protest, though it did little good.  He accepted the baby, brows creased both in concentration (don’t drop her) and discomfort (what am I supposed to do with this?). A sidelong glance was cast down at the mother, and he did not miss the mischief in her eyes.  He knew that look well, as only a long-time accomplice would.

But despite whatever reassurance Galadriel meant to offer, there was little he could do to hide the sudden tension in his back and the discomfort in his eyes. Thranduil didn’t hold babies. He wasn’t even entirely sure how to hold a baby properly.  Still, it wasn’t long before he was sighing heavily, conceding defeat, and perhaps even almost smiling one of his rare, genuine smiles.  Though he’d deny it if Galadriel even dared to point it out.  He was not the sentimental type, after all.

With Celebrian entertained for the moment, and thankfully heeding the instructions not to pull, Thranduil turned his attention back to Galadriel, a spark of his own mischief glinting in pale blue eyes as she explained her reasons for not accepting his invitation to settle.  He knew she had the right of it, and he had no wish to be caught in the middle of any battle of wills between her and Oropher.  Particularly because he’d be far too tempted to take her side, if only to see how far he could push his father’s patience.

“If you had interest in ruling, you married the wrong cousin,” he teased, shifting the inquisitive child to his opposite hip so that he might lean in closer to the mother with that teasing grin he was so fond of showing.  It was, of course, nothing more than a tease, for the both of them knew very well that Thranduil only loved her as one loved a dear friend, and he had only ever suggested otherwise for the sake of tormenting poor Celeborn.  “And for that, you’ve doomed the realm to the unenviable fate of having me as its heir.” Certainly, deep down he cared a great deal for the people of the Woodland Realm, but he was still having far too much fun to consider the possibility of settling down completely and becoming responsible. 


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Re: where little selkies sing
« Reply #10 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."
« Last Edit: August 18, 2019, 10:36:40 AM by Galadriel »

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Re: where little selkies sing
« Reply #11 on: October 20, 2019, 06:01:14 AM »
“Is it not enough simply to wish to visit the pair of you?” Even now, he played coy, his tone one of exaggerated shock that she might have doubted the sincerity of his intentions.  Yet where he might have played the part more sincerely for some other, for Galadriel it was all purposefully overdone.  She was right, after all. He could never fool her, so he only pretended to try.

“If you must know,” he began, though whatever words might have followed were choked off as the child in his arms leaned back so unexpectedly.  And despite the obvious fact that he still had a good hold of her and that she was in no danger of falling, some instinct Thranduil had not known he even possessed warned him to tighten his hold, his free hand coming up to rest against Celebrian’s back as an added measure of security. It lasted for only the briefest of moments, but there on the shore, clinging a bit too tightly to the child, Thranduil’s overblown confidence had been replaced by a wide-eyed instant of near panic.

A breath later the panic was gone, though his traitorous heart still pounded far too loudly in his chest, betraying him even as he attempted to pretend he’d not just nearly been frightened to death of dropping a baby… He obviously wasn’t made for holding children, which would no doubt be a great disappointment to his father, who had been dropping more than a few hints of late that he would very much like to eventually have a few grandchildren.

“I suppose there’s no letting your guard down with this one,” he said, clearing his throat to mask the presence of a nervous chuckle.   Nothing to see here.

“If you must know,” he began again, shifting the child against his hip once more, “The pleasure of your company is only a part of it, though by far the better part of it.”  It might have sounded on the surface like the kind of niceties one offered when trying to avoid hurt feelings, but from Thranduil it was nothing but sincere.  Her absence, and that of his dear cousin, had left a hole in his heart he had not yet been able to fill, and he missed them both keenly.

“I might have been a bit restless,” he offered, playing it off as if it were hardly the case, though his father might have argued otherwise.  His father, however, was not here. “And so father sent me off with a few messages for certain parties.” That was left purposefully vague.  As far as Thranduil was concerned, there was no need to darken their reunion with too much talk of official royal business, particularly considering some of that business would eventually have him calling upon the High King, a task which he was not at all looking forward to. “So long as I was able to visit with you, I didn’t mind playing the glorified messenger boy.  It’s been centuries since I’ve been west of the mountains and I’m long overdue.”


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Re: where little selkies sing
« Reply #12 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."

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Re: where little selkies sing
« Reply #13 on: April 08, 2020, 08:10:09 AM »
Relief swept over him as Galadriel carefully guided the child to ease against his shoulder rather than experiment with any further acrobatics.  And maybe it was that simple touch of his mind, the familiar warmth of her fondness for him, that calmed Thranduil fully once more.  His smile was relaxed, perhaps even nearly content, as she showed him where to place his hands.  This was better. Children weren’t so bad when they were calm.

Though Galadriel had so easily guessed his purpose, Thranduil showed no hint of surprise, only making a short, near grunt in confirmation of her guess.  Gil-Galad. Thranduil did not dislike the boy quite so much as his father did (the boy’s close kinship with Galadriel was much of the reason for that), but all the same, he had very little interest in speaking with him at length.  With any of these Noldor, really, save the one he walked beside now.  It was the prevailing thought within the Woodland Realm that the Noldor were haughty, too proud of themselves when they had very little reason to be.  And word had it that, in turn, the Nolder considered the woodland folk to be foolish and uncivilized.  Though no Noldor had ever come east of the mountains to say so in person.

Don’t fret?  He released the barest breath of a chuckle before he could help himself.  As he always had in her presence, Thranduil kept his most uncharitable thoughts about the Noldor and their High King  to himself.  Whatever love he still carried for Galadriel, he could not help but harbor the same ill thoughts as his father about her people. Thoughts that might have been only small and petty in his youth had long festered east of the mountains, nurtured by his father and those others that had fled east with them, seeking a permanent separation from the Noldor and all those of their own kin who had chosen to remain behind.  If he were to remain polite on this visit, it would be for her sake and no one else’s.  Certainly not for Gil-Galad’s.

Perhaps that was some part of the reason she had offered to accompany him… 

“You needn’t worry,”
he answered, the momentary dark thoughtfulness of his face giving way once more to that all too common cheeky grin that he wore so well. “I promise to be on my best behavior.  I’ve not lost my manners completely to the Greenwood.”  A pause, and his grin turned sly.  “Not yet, at least.”

With a shake of his head, he cast a glance down at the baby who had become momentarily more restful against his shoulder.  Those fears of dropping her abated for the time being, he had almost begun to enjoy holding the child.  So much so that he angled his head down to speak directly to her. “What do you think, little one?" he asked, jovially.  "Would you like to see Uncle Thranduil cause a scene and ruffle everyone’s feathers?”


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