Chapter Text
A/N: if you ever wondered what I listen to while I write them here's the spotify link
Celebelen is said to have been the greatest healer to ever grace Middle Earth. She was kind and cheerful, although quiet. Her father, Finrod and her mother, Amarie had cherished her from birth. Her early years were spent tugging on her father's golden hair, and cooing at the sparkling glow that surrounded her mother. Her hair was as gold as the brightest sun's rays, and she had inherited her mother's peculiar hazel eyes. She had fond memories of her childhood, being surrounded by the love of her parents.
She had grown up with delightful stories of her father's adventures, the greatest being assisting the Man Beren with his Quest of the Silmaril. He told her of the wolf that had taken his life. Then being reborn into Valinor and finding her mother again. She was always quite taken with the story of her father's faithful love to her mother. The fact that he wed no other, and died, to be reborn to find her mother, was quite romantic to her. Her life was filled with the joy and happiness her parents gave her. She was their celebration of being alive, and it showed at every stage of her growth.
When she was old enough, her parents traveled with her to the Isle of Este, to ask for an apprenticeship. Amarie had cultivated a love of herbs and plants in Celebelen, and she expressed interest in applying her love into a skill. Este took a liking to the young maiden and agreed to take her on.
Celebelen worked hard under Este's tutelage, into her teenage years. She learned much in her apprenticeship, learning from Estë’s other students, honing her skills to precision. She became an expert in herbal remedies, botany, and anatomy of many different creatures. Melian the gardener, also student of Este, taught her to apply her soul energy to manipulate the plants around her, assisting in her having the best remedies quickly. During the day, her hands were covered in mud or the blood of an injured animal she was helping. At night, Este taught her how to care for her own skin, sharing with her the many lotions and elixirs her teacher had stored over the years.
Her parents visited her often and were proud of their hardworking daughter. When the time came for her to graduate, Este made her an offer. She would grant Celebelen great healing magic to boost her healing ability, but at a price. In order to receive this gift, she would have to take an oath to never take a life, and to do as little harm as possible. Cele took her time with this choice, heavily weighing her options.
When Celebelen agreed and took her oath, her parents cried with joy. Her heart was full of happiness and pride that day. She was proud to be the daughter of Finrod and Amarie, and the pupil of Estë. However, she knew she wanted more from her life than the quiet retreat of her parents' home. Finrod and Amarie were unhappy with her ambitions, worried for the safety of their only daughter.
Many years passed and Celebelen's longing for adventure only increased. Her biggest problem was that she didn't have much courage. She had heard of all the great deeds her father had accomplished and was not sure she could ever be as great as he. She always felt small and weak when she compared her accomplishments to his. One night she made the decision that she would never discover if she was good enough if she stayed within the safe arms of her parents.
She packed a small satchel full of her most precious possessions. Among them were a sketch she had done of her parents, a jar of her favorite herbs, and her herbal grimmoire. She took one last around her childhood home, walking through each room, committing them to memory. At last, she entered her parents room silently. She smiled at the vision of her father wrapped around her mother, sleeping in apparent bliss, judging by the slight smile on both their faces.
She left a note explaining where she was going and why. She told them that she loved them, but felt she must be free to live her life. Then, she left, quietly shutting the door behind her and exiting through the garden she had helped her mother cultivate.
She journeyed south, intending to visit her aunt Galadriel. She had been told many stories of her from her father and very much wanted to meet her. Her journey from Valinor to Middle Earth was a difficult one. However, Este and Melian had taught her well how to live off the plants surrounding her. She consulted her map often, and finally made her way on to a boat that took her to the brilliant new land that surely contained many adventures for her. Her heart trembled in excitement as she looked over the bow, feeling her hair whip in the salty breeze.
Her time with Galadriel was pleasant. Her aunt warmly welcomed her with open arms and felt almost at home with her and her uncle. It was a beautiful kingdom, and she was so pleased to be shown around the entire area by Haldir, her aunt's closest attendant. She spent weeks getting to know a few elves, especially those who were healers. Her reputation as a skilled and kind healer spread. She knew Haldir watched her anxiously close, wanting to keep his master's young niece safe. So she stayed close, not wanting to make her aunt worry.
A few years later, Galadriel sent for her. She met with her aunt in her study, where her Uncle Celeborn sat in his spindly chair reading concernedly over a letter.
"Sweet Celebelen, I may have a new adventure in store for you," said Galadriel.
"Oh?" the younger replied.
"Yes. It seems that our Northern kin in Greenwood forest have been fighting a great war with a dragon at their northernmost borders. I think it would be most wise if you were to visit there to heal."
Celebelen looked confused and wary. Galadriel smiled, "Worry not, beloved niece. I have seen glimpses of your possible future. I believe you will be quite happy in Greenwood."
She nodded and bowed, heading to her room to gather her things for her new journey. As she packed, anxieties flooded her mind. This would be the first time she would be settling in a place without family to support her. Mentally examining her options, she admitted that she was an adult now, and she had wanted to test her strength. She knew she needed to spread her wings by being totally responsible for herself. In the end, she knew she had to go.
When she arrived in Greenwood with the escort Galadriel had sent with her, the king Oropher sent her immediately to the intensive care portion of the infirmary. The prince was badly injured and needed healing that none of his own healers could do. He was freshly returned from his final battle with the dragon, laid out on a healing table when she first laid eyes on him.
She saw that the other healers had tried desperately to fix the deep wound on his left cheek, until Celebelen entered. They seemed to recognize her and bowed lightly before her. She held her hand up to stop them, when she cringed hearing his miserable moan of pain. When she entered Thranduil’s vision for the first time, he arched one perfect brow but became silent, grimacing in pain.
His first thought, through the fog of blistering agony he was in, was that she was rather plain for someone so obviously Vanyar. Her gold hair complimented her hazel eyes, but that was all that was notable about her. She was too quiet, her silence bothered him for some reason. He was prince of this realm, everyone tried speaking to him, but she did not. Thranduil was strong, but he grit his teeth against the pain, as she began to work.
She worked hard, meticulous in her efforts, and respectfully ignoring any slight twitches of pain he decidedly did not make. Her brow was covered in sweat, and her hands hurt from the intricate sewing and bandage handling this wound required. When she was done, she wiped her brow and grabbed a fresh towel to wipe her bloody hands on.
She told him quietly that he was free to move without pain. He sat up. Immediately he touched where the injury had been, expecting to feel raw and new flesh, but was surprised when it was smooth and cool to his touch. He surveyed her carefully, and after a moment, bade everyone else in the room to leave them.
"The injury is fully healed, my lord," she murmured. "However, there will always be an echo of the scars that have been. You only have to burn through my healing magic with particularly powerful rage to reveal the wounds. And even then, my magic will not fade."
He nodded, still staring at her critically, “My attendants seemed to know you. Do you have a name?”
"I am called Celebelen," she bowed to him again, and stood erect with hands folded in front of her, waiting for his dismissal.
"Why do they know you, Celebelen?"
"Because I am a great healer, and a master in such craft. My aunt sent me here in hopes to utilize my talents," she responded swiftly and directly.
He was silent for a time, looking elsewhere, thinking deeply. Finally, “Celebelen, should you not have urgent matters elsewhere I would bid you stay here in my father’s court.”
Her face registered shock, “Y-yes, my lord.”
He nodded thoughtfully, seemingly to himself, “You have my leave to go.”
She bowed deeply and quickly removed herself from the room feeling almost embarrassed.