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Celeborn and Galadriel

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Silver and Gold : 9. Chapter 9

            It was a
little unsettling, but Galadriel’s first guess proved to be the right one.  Celeborn was seated on the mossy ground of
the grove by the stream bank that he had shown her the first day of her arrival
in Menegroth.



            Perhaps it was
merely a place that he loved very dearly, so it was logical for him to go there
for solitude.



            And perhaps
he wanted her to find him.



            “Celeborn?”
she called softly, for he had not looked up at her footsteps.



            “I’m
sorry,” he said quietly, eyes still on the running water.  “I did not mean to run away.  I needed a moment to gather my thoughts.”



            “I didn’t
know Thingol meant to cry it from the rooftops.  I meant to tell you, before…”



            “That
wouldn’t really have changed anything,” he mused.  “So the children of Finarfin go forth to build their own
kingdom?”



            “That is
Finrod’s aim,” Galadriel agreed, nodding as she seated herself next to
Celeborn.



            “And what
is Galadriel’s aim?” he asked, turning to look at her at last, breath catching
as he found their faces inches apart.



            “I aim to
beguile a lad of Doriath to come with me,” she answered, lifting a hand to his
cheek.



            “Anyone
specific in mind?” he quipped solemnly, eyes wide.



            Smiling,
she leaned closer, twining her fingers into his smooth hair, and pulling his
face to hers.



            “Wait.”



            Galadriel
felt his lips move just as they touched hers, and she pulled back, confused.



            Celeborn
broke away, put his face in his hands, and took a shuddering breath.  “For a moment, you were all that
mattered.  You were Galadriel, and that
was enough.  But the world is not that
simple.”



            “What do
you mean?” she asked, half wishing he just kept quiet and let her kiss him, and
half glad that he did not.



            “You’re
asking me to leave Doriath, and to go west with you?”



            “I am,” she
confirmed, firm tone hiding her awareness of how deeply vulnerable such a
question made her.



            “Why?”



            She
blinked.  Why did he always have to be
daft on purpose, when it mattered?



            “Then I
will say it first,” he continued, turning back to her, and gently taking her
hands.  “I love you.  I think it might be enough love for
eternity.  And I would not be parted
from you until I can be sure.”



            “I want you
to be with me,” she replied slowly, “because it would hurt to be away from
you.”



            He smiled a
sad smile.  “We agree on that much, at
least.”  His eyes were pained, and
painful to look into…



            “I see,”
Galadriel spoke, voice cold and hard as smooth marble.  It would take strength she wasn’t sure she
wanted to expend to uproot the silver tree from his forest.  “I pray we will meet again then.  If not in Middle-earth, then in the Halls of
Mandos.”



            “I do not
mean to give up so easily,” Celeborn countered, putting his hands on her
shoulders just as she moved to turn away, and refusing to be hurt by her words.



            Galadriel bit
her lip, and cursed him in her heart for being so difficult to stay angry with.



            “I would go
into the depths of Angband to save you pain,” he said solemnly.



            “It is very
well to say such things, but no one is asking that of you.  All I ask…”



            “Is that I
leave Doriath,” he finished for her, “correct? 
And in what capacity would I follow your people?  What skills has Celeborn that the Noldor
need?”



            “You are a
scholar,” she began.



            “For the
people who invented a writing system,” he retorted.  “And I barely know the language your people speak.”



            “…and
knowing Menegroth, you could act as an advisor…” Galadriel went on, undaunted
by his interruption.



            “You cannot
run another kingdom as you would Menegroth , without Melian,” he replied,
shaking his head.



            “And you
are a brave and capable warrior, when need calls,” she concluded.



            “Better to
have no skills than to have ones you refuse to make use of,” Celeborn answered
bitterly.  “I would be a foreigner among
your people - not kin as you are to us.”



            Her
brothers would love him before long, she knew. 
But to her cousins, and the proud Noldor folk, Celeborn would be nothing
but the consort of the princess.



            “Still, I
would humble myself that far, if it came to it,” he replied.  “But tell me… convince me, Galadriel.  Why are these ambitions so dear to you?”



            You
cannot know what I have suffered for them. 
You will not.



            “We
have left our father, and our home for this - to make a place our own, and to
build up a force to oppose Morgoth.  To
mend Beleriand to what it should have been.”



            “Ambitious
goals,” he commented softly, not at all as though he shared them.  “And hard ones, for someone who loves
Beleriand as it is, as it might be.”          



            “What might
it be?”



            “This,”
Celeborn said, gesturing about him.   “The
Hidden Kingdom.  Melian’s garden.”



            “This is
but the smallest portion of Beleriand, Celeborn.  Can you truly hide in Menegroth while the Noldor fight your
battles for you, and spill their blood for you?”  Or perhaps, it is the least they can do…



            “That isn’t
what I meant,” he answered, shaking his head. 
“I meant only that the Noldor are not the only force for Melkor to
reckon with.  And if the forces that
opposed him combined, they would be all the more formidable.”



            “What would
be better then, towards that end, than to have a Prince of Doriath in the
company of the children of Finarfin?”



            “To have a
Princess of the line of Finwë in the court of Melian and Elwë.”



            “I fail to
see the difference!  Is not one as good
as the other?” Galadriel demanded in exasperation.



            “Yes and
no,” Celeborn stated noncommittally.



            “That’s no
kind of answer at all!” she stood, and began pacing on the moss.



            “You
already have a place here, Galadriel. 
You are Thingol’s niece, and Melian said…”



            “Have I any
chance, with the lot of you conspiring against me?” she retorted bitterly.  “Is it so wrong that I do not wish to leave
my brothers?”



            “I have a
brother as well.  You haven’t met him –
Galathil is the fine warrior that his brother is not.  And he is a good and kind person.  You would like him. 
Luthien is as dear to me as a baby sister.  We both have family and a people to leave behind.”



            “And yet
you seek to convince me that your claims are higher than my own?”



            Celeborn
shrugged.  “I have a home.”



            “I go to
make one,” Galadriel countered, wrapping her arms tightly around herself.



            “You speak
so much of building your own kingdom. 
But Galadriel, will your brother’s city be so different from your
grandfather’s?”



            “It will be
different,” she answered softly. 
Nothing would be the same again.



            “I do not
mean to say that Finrod does not value your counsel…”



            Galadriel
raised a hand.  “I know what you
mean.  You’re saying that I will be the
Noldor’s princess, and never their leader. I’m not sure that I agree.”



            Celeborn
shrugged.



            And yet…
the chance to distance herself from her cousins who would not meet her eyes and
the brothers who would not speak of what haunted theirs, was tempting.  Until she healed…  Do you think you ever will?



            “Consider
what you felt at leaving your home.  You
ask me to do no less.”



            “It is
different.”  He needn’t know how.



            “This could
be your home.”  He got to his feet, and
stood before her.  Celeborn of Doriath
stood under the trees of his home, with the moonlight on his hair, and the
starlight in his eyes.  Doriath was in
his blood, and he was part of its soul.



            “Your
forest is fair, but it cannot replace my brothers, or my people,” she answered
hotly, stepping away.



             “Galadriel,” he said, catching her elbow in a
warm, gentle hand, “if you go, I will follow you.  But I beg you, do not force this choice upon me,” he pleaded
earnestly.



            “And what
choice would you leave me?”  She turned
to face him, anger melting at his willingness to leave everything for her, but
her exasperation remaining.  “You said yourself,
it is no different - I must either leave the brothers whom I love, or leave…”



            Celeborn
pulled her into his arms, and kissed her in the light of Varda’s stars.



            “That isn’t
going to work,” Galadriel murmured breathlessly, then put her hand at his cheek,
twined her fingers into his silver hair and kissed him back.



“Whatever we choose,” Celeborn said
after a moment, as they stood in each other’s arms, “we choose it together.”



            “Perhaps…”
Galadriel began quietly and carefully, laying her head on Celeborn’s shoulder,
“I should try to discover what about this land has such a profound claim on
your heart.”



            “I should
like that a great deal,” he answered softly, tightening his arms around her as
the night wind rustled gently through the emerald leaves of Doriath.



            “We are
very unlike, you and I,” she told him, stroking through his smooth, straight
silver hair.   



“Are we?”



            She
nodded.  “Very.  It’s in our blood.”



            He
snorted.   “Stop being foolish.  There isn’t some kind of profound difference
between the Sindar and the Noldor.  It
has to do with the choices of our ancestors, nothing more.”



            “I
disagree,” Galadriel countered.  “Those
decisions have formed the way we look upon the world, and upon others.”



            “We both
seek knowledge of the world around us,” Celeborn pointed out.



            “And how do
we apply it?  You look only to love, and
to heal.  As I learn about the world
around me, I think of how best to rule it,” she concluded, voice a little
rueful.



            “Don’t say style='mso-bidi-font-style:normal'>rule,” he began.



            “It is the
word that best suits.”



            “Galadriel,”
Celeborn continued, lifting a hand to tuck a strand of her lovely hair behind
her ear, “your people….my people, our
people will always need leadership.  Say
not that you seek to rule, but that you seek to lead.”



            “Fair words
do not change the truth,” she replied quickly.



            “Speak the
truth of me then,” he countered.  “I
could not lead a nation or build a kingdom. 
Nor would I even have a desire to. 
Say that I am constrained by my love of my forest, constrained by my own
compassion, hindered by my own thoughts and philosophies.”



            “And yet
you walk on,” she pointed out.



            “Oh,
indeed,” he agreed, rubbing at his forehead. “I walk on, stumbling and falling
over my own feet.”



            “You
criticize yourself too harshly.”



            “And you, my
Lady, do the same.”



            Galadriel
smiled suddenly, and Celeborn hesitantly returned it. 



            “We are not
so unlike,” Celeborn told her.



            “In some
ways,” she conceded.  “In others we are
different as day and night.”



            “Or gold
and silver?” he asked, grinning as he tugged at her hair.  His expression turned serious.  “Will you be my guide?” he asked her as he
held her close.



            Galadriel
laid her head against his shoulder again. 
And for that moment, the world was simple enough…  “If you will be my conscience.”



            Celeborn
kissed her very seriously then.



            “I think
you got the harder job,” she mused, when she could speak again.



            He laughed,
and the night was brighter.  And they
walked, hand in hand, back to Menegroth.



 



 



 



 



 



 



-----------



 



[This scene was written, and rewritten, and rewritten…
because they alternately wanted to fight, then to get all sappy.  So eventually they ended up doing both.  As usual, sorry it was a bit of a wait for
an update.  There would be more… but I
just don’t have the energy to write Finrod at the moment.  Soon, I dearly hope.  ^_^ 
Until then, enjoy the sap, and tell me what you think!]



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In Playlists

Playlist Overview

Last Update: 06 Mar 07
Stories: 15
Type: Reader List
Created By: Meril


Celeborn and Galadriel are my second-fave 'ship. This is stories about them, and their relatives. Various characterizations and interpretations, but I love them all.

Why This Story?

By Oboe-Wan. The courtship of Celeborn and Galadriel in Doriath.

 

Story Information

Author: Oboe-Wan

Status: Reviewed

Completion: Complete

Era: 1st Age

Genre: Romance

Rating: General

Last Updated: 01/15/03

Original Post: 07/07/02

Go to Silver and Gold overview