Work Text:
Celeborn came upon her in a glade of flowers. She, who was the most beautiful being he had ever laid his eyes upon. To him, it was like staring into the very light of dawn, and for a moment, the young Elf swore he was the moon, endlessly chasing the sun– and as such, he had been drawn in by her singing voice after having been on a ride with his horse (who currently neighed and huffed impatiently behind him), looking for his mantle that had flown in the wind.
From the shadows of the trees’ canopies, Celeborn watched her in silence, unable to find it in his heart to interrupt her song. Her voice echoed through the trees, and every bird and animal found themselves like him– halted in place, listening– but Celeborn did it out of fear that she was a mere illusion. A trick played by his mind, so tired he had been these past few days.
For he could not comprehend why so many of his kin, some even younger than him, had found their soulmate. Like any other Elf, Celeborn had been born with a mark, carved into his wrist. A half moon, it was. Every Elf had a soulmate mark etched on their skin, and more often than not, it would glow after your love’s first touch. So, Celeborn, being Celeborn, decided that the best way to find his soulmate would be to find ways to hold the hand of every elf in the proximity.
None had been his soulmate.
From where he stood, Celeborn could not see this Elf-maiden’s face, but he could feel the warmth that emanated from her, as though the sun had come down, taken the form of a beautiful elf, and decided to dance in the glade. Tempted to reach for that same warmth, Celeborn took a step forward.
The flowers of the glade seemed to dance with her as the breeze swayed by, and she danced and twirled like a fallen leaf caught in the wind. Her blue dress billowed around her like a blooming flower uncurling its petals.
It was like a dream he had once upon a time. Long, long ago.
Soon enough, the glade was filled with the sound of his voice as he joined in her song, but as soon as her ears twitched at the intrusion, the maiden dropped behind a fallen trunk. Celeborn halted, and the forest fell silent again.
“My apologies,” He said to the trunk, “I did not mean to frighten you.”
Slowly, step by step, he peered over the trunk and to his unfortunate surprise, he found no golden-haired Elf-maiden. She was behind him, swift as a bird.
“It’s not that.” She said, “You’re…”
Celeborn nodded.
“The charming grand-nephew of the King of Doriath, yes.” He straightened his back and puffed out his chest, just as he had once watched his brother do to impress the ladies.
She, however, less-than-impressedly flickered her eyes up and down his body and poor Celeborn could do little more than stutter over his own tongue. “Celeborn, son of Galadhon.”
“Galadriel,” A strand of her golden hair fell across her eyes. “Daughter of Finarfin, my brother-”
Now more than ever, Celeborn wished to drown in the tall grass. He stood now before just any Elf-maiden, but the guests of his grand-uncle. He hadn’t seen them as of now, only heard whispers in the wind.
“Artanis.” The names stumbled from his lips as he scratched his wrist. “Nerwen.”
She tilted her head, confusion etched all across her face.
Wielding some confidence into himself, Celeborn took a step forward. “It’s just… We’ve met before.”
“We-” Galadriel blinked once. “We have?”
“Yes,” Motioning to the glade around them and to the flowers beneath their feet, a smile grew on his lips. “Once upon a glade.”
For a brief second, he wondered if he had spoken some other language unknown to her, as Galadriel stared at him so incredulously that he might as well have proclaimed to be the King of Doriath– still, Celeborn smiled, hoping that it would make him look less the fool and more the prince.
That is, until he noticed the mantle around her shoulders.
“And I believe you may have something that belongs to me.”
To his gaze, Galadriel’s eyes fell to the mantle and her cheeks visibly reddened. A stark (but unfathomably adorable to him) contrast to her fair skin. Slowly she unclasped it and held it in her arms.
“I found it by the stream,” She said, “I thought its owner to be lost.”
“It escaped me, on my ride.”
Galadriel glanced down at the blue piece of cloth in her hands. Thankful to the sunlight that peered through the canopies above, she could see the gold embroidery running the borders of the scarf, mimicking leaves and birds of golden. Though the satin in her hands suddenly felt much heavier than before.
Once more, their gazes and the glade around them held its breath. Even from the few feet of distance they were apart, Celeborn swore he had never seen eyes as blue as hers. They reminded him of an ocean he wished to drown in.
Aware of his much too intense stare, Galadriel tilted her head down and cleared her throat. “Would the prince wish it returned?” She nodded to her hands, where the satin rested.
“No,” He answered, albeit far too quickly. “The prince– I wish for you to keep it.”
“Oh,” The smile that graced her lips made his heart ache painfully in his chest. “Thank you.”
Like the fool that he was– a prince of fools, Celeborn– he found himself smiling back until his cheeks were hurting.
Just then, a powerful breeze of wind blew past them, and his mantle fell from her arms. Celeborn kneeled to grab it, but so did Galadriel, and their hands touched– but the touch alone sent a shock through his body, and he recoiled.
“Forgive me!” She palled, reaching forward for his hand as if to seek the invisible burn that had injured him. “Have I-”
“No, no, it’s-” Holding his wrist with his free hand, Celeborn couldn’t quite believe his eyes. The half-moon was glowing, and so was the sun on Galadriel’s wrist, which had been revealed to the light as her sleeve fell backwards. “It’s you.”
Chasing his gaze, she too noticed the glow, and time seemed to freeze around them. Here she was, the faceless maiden Celeborn had been chasing in his dreams all these centuries. The one his heart had cried for plenty a night, with no name to give other than Artanis, or Nerwen as some birds sang to him.
But now he saw her face, and she was beautiful. His sun.
She must’ve somehow read his thoughts, or maybe the look on his face was enough, for Galadriel smiled and laughed as she took his mantle close to her chest. All around them, the animals– from birds to rabbits to deers– watched in delight as the two elves fell for each other’s graces.
And so it was, upon that glade of flowers, that Celeborn took her hand and twirled her around himself, only to hear her laugh one more time. Hand in hand, he guided her deeper into the glade, and they danced until the moon rose to bide the sun farewell.