Galadriel/Celeborn ficlet
Jan. 21st, 2012 08:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elfwannabeTitle: Coping
Fandom: Tolkien Universe, takes place during The Silmarillion
Characters/Pairings: Galadriel/Celeborn.
Summary: After the fall of Doriath, Celeborn and Galadriel deal with the trauma and share a moment of vulnerability. ETA: Belatedly, I realize that Galadriel and Celeborn must have left Doriath before its fall, thus rendering this entire piece a mild AU. OH WELL, I still like it.
The night after they fled Doriath, Celeborn stood guard over the camp. His turn as sentry was long over, but sleep would not find him. The adrenaline of battle still pumped through his veins, his senses and his reflexes heightened. In his mind, each snapping of a twig signaled an intruder, each shadowy movement one of his wife’s kin come to finish what they had begun. This was not new to him- it was as familiar as the fight itself. What he did not expect, did not anticipate, was Galadriel’s reaction. He looked over with a start as she woke abruptly, gasping for air and covered in sweat despite the cold. Unsure of what he should do, he approached quietly and knelt beside her. When he spoke, his voice was low and gentle, filled with concern.
“My Lady?”
It took a few minutes for her to respond, for her mind to return to the present and her eyes to truly see him.
“Celeborn. I did not wake you, I hope.” She should have warned him about the nightmares. She knew that now. But they had become so infrequent as of late; they had all but stopped before tonight.
“I could not sleep.” His eyes met hers, silently questioning.
There was a long moment where neither spoke and the only sound was Galadriel’s still rapid and unsteady breathing.
“I dreamt of Alqualondë.”
Nothing more need have been said. Celeborn seated himself beside her and took her hand, gently pressing his lips to it, a wordless reassurance that he was there and always would be. With a soft sigh, Galadriel closed her eyes and leaned against him, resting her head upon his shoulder. He was still amazed-and grateful- that this strong, proud, magnificent woman would share this with him, this moment of vulnerability. And Galadriel was amazed and grateful that she could.
Neither of them slept that night. They sat together in silence, taking comfort in the intimacy of it, until the sun rose, casting its first light over the camp and causing the rest of their retinue to begin to stir.
Fandom: Tolkien Universe, takes place during The Silmarillion
Characters/Pairings: Galadriel/Celeborn.
Summary: After the fall of Doriath, Celeborn and Galadriel deal with the trauma and share a moment of vulnerability. ETA: Belatedly, I realize that Galadriel and Celeborn must have left Doriath before its fall, thus rendering this entire piece a mild AU. OH WELL, I still like it.
The night after they fled Doriath, Celeborn stood guard over the camp. His turn as sentry was long over, but sleep would not find him. The adrenaline of battle still pumped through his veins, his senses and his reflexes heightened. In his mind, each snapping of a twig signaled an intruder, each shadowy movement one of his wife’s kin come to finish what they had begun. This was not new to him- it was as familiar as the fight itself. What he did not expect, did not anticipate, was Galadriel’s reaction. He looked over with a start as she woke abruptly, gasping for air and covered in sweat despite the cold. Unsure of what he should do, he approached quietly and knelt beside her. When he spoke, his voice was low and gentle, filled with concern.
“My Lady?”
It took a few minutes for her to respond, for her mind to return to the present and her eyes to truly see him.
“Celeborn. I did not wake you, I hope.” She should have warned him about the nightmares. She knew that now. But they had become so infrequent as of late; they had all but stopped before tonight.
“I could not sleep.” His eyes met hers, silently questioning.
There was a long moment where neither spoke and the only sound was Galadriel’s still rapid and unsteady breathing.
“I dreamt of Alqualondë.”
Nothing more need have been said. Celeborn seated himself beside her and took her hand, gently pressing his lips to it, a wordless reassurance that he was there and always would be. With a soft sigh, Galadriel closed her eyes and leaned against him, resting her head upon his shoulder. He was still amazed-and grateful- that this strong, proud, magnificent woman would share this with him, this moment of vulnerability. And Galadriel was amazed and grateful that she could.
Neither of them slept that night. They sat together in silence, taking comfort in the intimacy of it, until the sun rose, casting its first light over the camp and causing the rest of their retinue to begin to stir.
