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#lady-of-lorien
theworldsoftolkein · 5 months
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Elves - by Kagalin
Galadriel, Celeborn, Legolas, Thranduil, Elrond, Arwen, Elladan & Elrohir(LOTR)
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ltwilliammowett · 7 months
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Topsail schooner J.R. Tolkien and Barquentine Loth Lorien
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runningquill-art · 1 year
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The Lady of Lórien
[IG @runningquill_art]
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whiteladyofithilien · 3 months
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White Ladies
Okay so I find it fascinating how Faramir first uses the title "white lady" to refer to Galadriel of Lorien and then later gives it to Eowyn. To me it seems to signify that he holds her in an equal esteem to the Lady of the Golden Wood. Which just wow.
And in a way Eowyn is to Galadriel what Faramir is to Aragorn. Not in a sense of lineage but as Faramir is described as less lofty but no less noble so too one could compare Eowyn to Galadriel. Less ancient and remote but no less fair or brave or worthy of admiration. Faramir sees Eowyn as both a warrior heroine worthy of being the blissful queen of a realm but also as a flesh and blood woman with hurts and sorrows and desires.
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ragingbookdragon · 10 months
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A Broken Heart Must Be Healed On Its Own
Haldir of Lórien x Reader
Word Count: 2K Warnings: Angst
Author's Note: But the pairing of Galadriel's daughter and Haldir is just *mwah* perfection! -Thorne
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It was, the first week of winter by the time she made it home from Erebor. The air had chilled considerably, and most mornings were covered in a fine layer of frost before the winter sun warmed the land. Lothlórien was never known to have true snowfall like other places, as Lady Galadriel’s magic, and the forest itself was an eternal spring and autumn, but sometimes, she would awaken in the mornings, when the moon was still in the sky, and tiny snowflakes would decorate the kingdom outside.
Oddly enough, it seemed winter had blessed Lothlorien with a bit of snowfall as she quietly crossed back into the realm and under the veil of her mother’s protection. Her heart still ached, as it would no doubt for centuries after, but even elves like she knew that sometimes, time healed even the deepest of wounds.
She arrived, greeting the elves who bowed for her and ascended the stairs to her mother and father’s chambers. As if her mother knew she was coming, and she did—always did, the eyes of Lady Galadriel met hers, and she all at once was overcome with a great grief, crystal tears filling her eyes as she dropped her bag and fell into her mother’s arms.
Lady Galadriel said nothing, save quiet hums as she caressed her daughter’s head, already knowing the tragedy that had befallen the land east of Mirkwood—word had always travelled fast, as did magic. The adventure was one her daughter had to go on, to find something of worth for herself, not in material items, but within her heart and soul, and she knew that her daughter had found it, even at the expense of such deep emotion.
It was quite a long while before the tears finally dried and she lay against her mother’s shoulder, no longer sniffling, but staring blankly at the land outside the arches. “I am deeply grieved, mother,” she whispered. “For my own loss, but the pain of my friends, grieves me too.”
“Yes,” Galadriel murmured.
“I wish I could take their pain from them. It hurts me that I cannot heal their hearts.” She shifted as much she could, trying to get closer to her mother. “What good is my ability to heal if I cannot heal the broken hearts of the ones I love?”
Her mother’s hand came up to cup her cheek, thumb brushing delicately over her skin. “Some pain we are meant to feel, hína nîn. It reminds us that we are alive.” Galadriel’s voice was soft but ever wise. “Your ability is to heal physical wounds, not the wounds of the heart. That is something someone must heal on their own.”
Pulling away, she looked at her mother, searching for something in her gaze and opened her mouth, but no words came out.
“I am proud of you though, hína nîn,” Galadriel said. “For you have done what was right. Stood up against evil in many forms to do justice. You have made us all here so honored.”
“I have only tried to live up to your own standard, mother,” she smiled halfheartedly, and Galadriel merely offered a smile of her own.
“You love has waited quite a long time for you to return home. Perhaps you should go and see him.” her mother gave her a knowing look. “It is, after all, the first time you have ever left with anger in your heart.”
She nodded, letting out a sigh. “I shall, but I would like to see father first. I wish for his comfort as well.”
Galadriel nodded, helping her daughter to her feet before taking her arm in hers, leading her to her father.
***
It was nightfall by the time she returned to the quarters she and her love shared. There was still an ache in her heart, but it had slowly begun to heal, as if the love from her mother and father was magic in and of itself. She pushed open the door, greeted by the sight of her husband bent over a desk, papers surrounding him as he rubbed at his temples and pinched the bridge of his nose. It reminded her of their last talk before she left.
“I simply mean I do not think this is a wise decision.”
“And I recognize this. Do not think that the mere danger of this quest is somehow beyond me, Haldir, or do you forget that I was once face to face with a terrible evil once?”
“That is not what I mean to say, and you know that.”
“I know what you mean. You do not want me going.”
“Of course I do not! You could die! Do you any how grieved all of Lórien would be if you did?”
“Life is not lived without its risks. This is something I must do.”
“Please, my love, do not go. I do not wish for you to put yourself into harm’s way as such where I cannot protect you.”
“I unfortunately cannot acquiesce to your desire, Haldir. I am leaving with Mithrandir at dawn.”
“I do not think you understand! You need—”
“Let go of my arm lest you lose it, Haldir.”
“…You have forgotten that you are no longer just your mother’s daughter. You are my wife. I am your husband. Your life is mine and mine yours. You are taking a risk without assessing my concerns and it is wrong. This is wrong. You, are wrong.”
“Then I will be wrong. But this is something I must do, and you will not stand in my way, husband or no.”
“Fine. Go then. If something befalls you so horrible that you do not come home to me, then you will know I was right.”
She huffed quietly and leaned against one of the pillars in their common room. “To think, my great, Marchwarden husband has met his final downfall, and it is not an enemy blade, but reports.”
Haldir jumped at her voice, startled eyes meeting hers as he rose from the desk, fingers touching the papers, but he didn’t move from behind it. “You—” he fell silent, gathering himself as his eyes became hidden. “I had heard you made it back to Lórien.”
“Yes,” she said, walking over to where a glass pitcher was; she poured two glasses of crimson wine and held it out for him. “Forgive the delay, I had to see Mithrandir and Bilbo back to the Shire.”
He came around the desk and took the glass but didn’t drink from it even as he watched her do so. “I heard of what happened…the battle…the dwarves. To think that you were in the middle of such a battle, I—I cannot even begin to fathom such a fearsome sight.”
She blinked slowly, gazing out towards the night. “Yes…a great sadness it was. My heart weeps for my loss and for my friend’s losses too.”
“Meleth nîn,” he begged. “For what purpose did you go on this adventure? Was such grief and sadness worth it?”
Looking at him, she smiled with great sorrow. “You still have yet to understand.” She turned, sitting on the bench, and gestured for him to do so; when he did, she rested her head on his shoulder. “Losing someone I love, is something I know well.”
“Your sister…”
“Mhm. But the loss of my sister is different from the loss of Thorin, Fili, and Kili. That was a loss I was not familiar with. That of losing a friend. Someone who I shared values, hopes, and great friendships with.”
Haldir was confused. “You went on this journey…so you would know what it was like to lose a friend?”
“You have lost friends before, Haldir. You know what it is like to grieve a fallen brother or sister in arms.”
“Well, yes, but—"
“You have no doubt heard of my mother and brother-in-law’s battle in Dol Guldur. Sauron has returned. Perhaps not in full form just yet like he was ages earlier, but he will come back to great power soon. Loss of many things and people we hold dear is coming, my life. I wished to be prepared for that loss before it happened.” She sighed heavily, feeling the dull ache in her chest again. “But my poor heart was not as prepared as I thought for the losses of my much-loved dwarves. There is a deep pit within my heart, not only for my own loss, but for the feeling of grief that my other friends felt.”
He took her hand in his and thumbed the back of it. “I am sorry for your loss, my love. I wish it is a pain I could carry for you.”
She hummed low in her throat and turned her head up, looking at him. “Haldir, my husband, I ask your forgiveness. In the end, you were right. I am my mother’s daughter, but I am also your wife. And I should have heeded your concerns more cautiously. I am sorry I did not, and that I hurt you. Of all my grief, hurting you is what has caused me the most pain. I never meant to, and I am so sorry.”
Haldir tipped his head to the side, a sad but fond look on his face as he smiled and replied, “Then I must ask your forgiveness as well. I should not have taken my anger out and spoken ill of your journey. To be so jaded to you…it was unworthy of someone who is to love you wholeheartedly.”
Lady Galadriel was the only one on Middle Earth to have seen the trees, but Haldir swore sometimes he could see them in her daughter’s eyes, like now as she smiled at him and leaned forward, nuzzling her nose to his.
“Melin gin, Haldir,” she whispered, and he closed his eyes, reaching up to cup her cheek, once more so glad to hold his wife in his arms.
“And I you, meleth nîn, from this age, to the next, and until the end of all time.” He gently tipped her head up and pressed his lips to hers. “I prayed for your safety every day,” he murmured as he pulled back, resting his forehead to hers. “I watched as you left the forest and all I thought was that I said such horrid things and I had no way of knowing if your journey would be your last.”
She hummed and he opened his eyes, gazing into hers as she professed, “Not even all the hellish forces of Utumno could keep me from coming back to you, Haldir.” Pulling away, she rose from the bench, stood before him, and held out her hands, waiting for him to place his in hers. As he did, she squeezed them tight. “I swear to you, here and now, under the light of my mother’s forest, I will never again stray so far that you do not know where I will go. And should I go, then we shall go together.”
Haldir stood to his feet, a burning passion in his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. “And I to you, that I will never again let you go alone. Wherever we go, we go together.” He smiled so widely at her, taking her face in his hands. “I have missed you so greatly, meleth nîn.”
“And I you, my life.” She pulled them towards the bed. “Rest with me and in the morning, I shall tell you all about my adventure.”
“I do not wish to cause grief, my love.”
“You will not,” she promised. “Besides, there and back? It is a tale worth telling for many ages to come.” Her eyes twinkled. “I fought against many things. Orcs, spiders, dragons. So many.”
“Did you win?”
“Of course!”
They fell into bed and Haldir held her as she snuggled into his chest; kissing her head, he said softly, “Rest, meleth nîn. I will watch for you.”
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tiny-and-witchy · 4 months
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I don't think we truely grasp just how old Lady Galadriel was.. She was over 8000 years old. (though there's a debate still going about her age) In fantastic literature it might be considered usual for a character to be thousands of years old.
But if you actually think about it in the context of earth history, it becaomes unfathomable..Just.. Think about it.. She would have watched civilizations rise and fall.. She would have been there when humanity was learning to make ceramic pots.. She would have been there when humanity tamed the first horses.. She would have been there when the first monuments were built.. She would have been there when humanity invented the written word..
She would have been there when the piramides were built, and still there when the knowledge of how they were built all but disappeared.. She would be there when Rome was built.. And still there she was when the 1000 year old empire fell.. I think it is both divine and kind of terrifying..
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milesasinmorales · 1 year
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Here are some doodles I did of Galadriel the lady of Lórien!
Click for better quality!
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tabukomi · 2 years
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“And now at last it comes. You will give me the Ring freely! In place of the Dark Lord you will set up a Queen. And I shall not be dark, but beautiful and terrible as the Morning and the Night! Fair as the Sea and the Sun and the Snow upon the Mountain! Dreadful as the Storm and the Lightning! Stronger than the foundations of the earth. All shall love me and despair!”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring
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whitegoldtower · 10 days
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I’d give literally anything to be sandwiched between Haldir and Eowyn
They can be the bread and butter and I’ll be the MEAT
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aesthetic--mood · 2 years
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Galadriel Aesthetic (Lord of the Rings)
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ladyoflothlorien · 2 years
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for all the gripes I have about aspects Cate Blanchett’s performance, she was really so astonishingly perfect aesthetically ♥
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hjbirthdaywishes · 11 months
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May 14, 2023
Happy 54 Birthday to Cate Blanchett. 
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rik-evora · 2 years
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THE LADY OF LÓRIEN
Annie Stegg
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therealnumber9 · 2 years
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Do I want to take time out of my workout routine to babysit Johnny?
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author-morgan · 2 years
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did you see the new Rings of Power empire mag covers?
I did and my opinion still has not changed, it looks not good. Nothing about the covers look like or feel like Middle Earth. it just looks like another beloved series about to be ruined by capitalism.
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ragingbookdragon · 10 months
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I Will Love You Until The End Of The Ages
Haldir of Lothlórien x Reader
Word Count: 4.4K Warnings: None
Author's Note: Yeah...this kinda got away from me but I love this fucking elf just as much as I love Lindir so, have him <3 -Thorne
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An ache spread through her body as she sprinted through the forest, wide-eyed and terrified. She’d barely managed to escape the carnage of her guards being slaughtered, only to be spotted by a rogue orc who’d alerted the others of her escaping. It would not have taken a master to understand exactly what they were going to do to her if they caught her. The thought only pushed her forward as she continued to run, trying her best to hop over logs and bushes in her way.
She’d fallen more than a few times, tripped over hidden tree roots, her shoes fallen off somewhere, feet bleeding from stepping on sharp stones and branches. Her dress had torn from slipping between large rocks to give distance, caught on sharp rose thorns, her legs and arms were cut up beyond belief, fabric strew down her chest, shoulder exposed, but she forbid herself from stopping. The elves of Lothlórien couldn’t have been farther than another mile, but she wasn’t fit for battle, or such bodily exertions and it was taking its toll.
She was practically unable to breathe as she huffed and puffed with raggedness. She could make it. All she had to do was keep going and she’d be upon Lothlórien. They would help her, or at least kill the orcs. If they killed her too, so be it, but at least she wouldn’t die before being defiled. She could make it, she could make it, she could—
A gasp escaped her as her foot caught under a raised root and she hit the ground, elbow burying itself into her side as she hit the ground—hard. The air was knocked from her lungs, and she wheezed as she rolled onto her side, crawling on the ground, trying to get to her feet, but her legs wouldn’t cooperate with her. She could hear them getting closer, their war cries only sealing her fate.
Tears flooded her eyes and as her lungs began to take in air, she hoarsely cried, “He—lp!” she pulled herself towards a tree. “Help!”
She turned, seeing the orcs come upon her and gathered in a half circle, snarling and salivating; tears streamed down her cheeks and though it made no difference she begged, “Mercy. Please, mercy.”
One of them reached for head and she recoiled, screaming bloody murder, her screeches startling the birds from the trees, then an arrow pierced the orc reaching for her and none had a moment to even react before a hail of them rained down. The orcs fell dead, gurgling on black blood and she twisted her head as she saw flashes of gray.
A group of elves appeared, and one knelt beside her. “Are you alright?”
She could barely see him through the tears in her eyes, but his blue eyes shown with a kindness; she reached forward, fumbling for the front of his armor and the second she connected with it, she burst into sobs and cradled herself against him. As if not used to such contact, he awkwardly patted her back before looking towards the elves of his guard and muttering something in his native tongue.
He continued to kneel with her until her sobs eased and she began to go slack against him; when he felt her go completely still, he pulled away slightly, catching sight of her unconscious expression. Pulling her a bit closer, he brought her into his arms and hefted her up with ease and turned his back on the carnage of the dead orcs before following the group deeper into the forest.
***
The air was clear, crisp, the scent of nature filling her lungs as she came to, the veil of night, stars, and the moon shining through the open arch of the window. She blinked, unsure of where she was but before she moved, someone said, “It would not be wise to move. Your wounds are still fresh.”
Startled, she twisted her head, seeing the same elf that had rescued her standing at the door. “Where…where am I?”
He shifted from the door and walked over, taking a seat beside her. “Lothlórien. My patrol heard commotion and your screams.” He gave her an awfully funny look, almost like she was an idiot—she did not like it in the slightest. “Why would you travel between Moria and Dol Goldur? All know it’s unsafe for travel for even the most experience of fighters.”
“The road we usually took had washed out from the rainstorm months ago. We had no choice.”
He cocked a brow. “Why are you travelling?”
She let out a sigh. “Gondor has called the lords of the land from their cities and towns. I am the only living heir to the lord of my land. It was my duty to go and represent my home.” He only made a noise in his throat, a low hum, and she looked at him. “What is your name, so I may thank you properly?”
“Haldir,” he answered. “I am Haldir of Lothlórien.”
“I owe you my life, Haldir of Lothlórien. Whatever you desire, if it is within my capabilities, please only speak it and I shall have it sent for immediately.”
“I find that difficult as your entire party is dead. There is no one to send away.” He immediately found his words too callous as her expression split into grief and she looked away. “I…I apologize. My words were uncalled for.”
“No,” she countered, shaking her head, tears falling down her cheeks. “They are dead, and it is all my fault.” She reached up, wiping her face. “Please forgive me for being so emotional.”
“You are in grieving,” Haldir replied. “There is no shame in expressing such emotion.” He gazed at her. “What is your name?”
She met his gaze, and he felt an awfully funny flutter at the sight of her saddened expression, dewy lashes, and full lips. “I am (Y/N) of Wintergrave. The city to the northwest, just above Emyn Uial and east of the Blue Mountains.”
Haldir tipped his head, bringing a hand to his chest. “I welcome you, Lady (Y/N).”
“Oh, thank you,” she replied, sitting up with a grimace to try and offer the same gesture, though she let out a gasp as something in her side felt like it was splitting.
He gently rose from his seat, pushing her shoulder back down to the bedding. “I have already told you, it is not wise to move. Your wounds are still very fresh.”
“Forgive me,” she whispered. “I just wanted to extend the same kindness you have given me.”
“If you wish to, not harming yourself would be a good start.”
She cracked a smile and laid her head back onto the pillow. “Thank you, Haldir.”
He offered her a polite look. “I shall return with a healer. You should rest.”
“Yes, of course.”
***
Word had been sent back to Wintergrave of their Lady’s untimely run-in with the orcs, the bodies of her men had as well been prepared and sent back for burial. She’d met with Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, expressing many apologies for imposing on them as such. The two elves had found it rather odd that a human who’d been saved and given sanctuary was so apologetic and felt like such a burden for it. Of course, Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn had given her more than enough relief and allowed her to stay as long as she needed to recover her strength. The Lady of Lothlórien had even met with her in her room and spoke of the horrors of the orcs and how nightmarish the mind could become after such an attack—she’d expressed to (Y/N) that she could stay until she felt fit to travel and when it was then time, Lady Galadriel would have a group of Marchwardens accompany her to Gondor. (Y/N) had cried and thanked her profusely for her kindness, also extending the same offer that she’d given to Haldir, if Lady Galadriel had ever needed anything all she had to do was speak it.
When she’d finally been able to move without pain from her wounds, which had been many—bruised and cut up feet, legs, and arms, even a rather severe cut along her cheek that was more than likely going to scar—she had taken to exploring what was allowed of Lothlórien that she could. Lady Galadriel had, instead of giving her a lady-in-waiting, assigned Haldir to watch over her, given leave to stay in Lothlórien for some time.
She was rather surprised to see him when she was sitting under one of the great arched platforms, sipping a flavored fruit tea that she only assumed grew in the land here. She had the teacup raised to her lips, watching the fireflies lighting up the night when someone appeared in her peripheral, scaring her half to death.
Jumping, she tried not to spill her tea as she set the cup down and looked up, seeing Haldir standing there, surprisingly with no armor like he usually wore. “Haldir,” she greeted with a smile. “You scared me half to death. Do you not know it is impolite to sneak up on someone, let alone a lady?”
“Apologies,” he said but he didn’t sound too apologetic. “Light feet are something not so easily forgotten when taught since birth.” He gestured to the seat across from her. “May I?”
“Oh, yes! Please!” she chirped, already pouring a cup of tea for him. “Lady Galadriel has been so kind to allow me to stay here in Lothlórien. But I fear I may be overstaying.”
“While it is odd for a human to stay for long periods of time, her ladyship isn’t one to force an innocent to leave.” He picked up his cup. “She has allowed you to stay until you feel ready for leave.”
“Yes,” she agreed, once more looking out. “I almost do not wish to leave Lothlórien though.”
“You do not?”
“Of course not. This place is ethereal. The people even more so.” She looked back at him. “I’ve always found elves so fascinating. Such long periods of life, so graceful and elegant, a beautiful culture and history.” A small, almost embarrassing smile came across her face. “Do not tell anyone I said this, but I’ve always tried to emulate such grace and elegance. To be wise and respectful like such.”
Haldir gazed at her for a long moment—he’d not met many humans who were so modest and ungreedy like (Y/N) was, it was almost refreshing to find such a human. “I’ve not met many humans like you,” he said before he thought about it and his cheeks warmed when she looked at him with surprise.
“Like me?”
He cleared his throat. “I meant, kind and respectful. Many humans are greedy and disrespectful. Loud…and abrasive.”
She frowned. “Yes, my fellow men can often be swayed by earthly desires instead of their honor.” She met his gaze. “I hope I have offered some amnesty on that part. Or perhaps a better view of what some of us can be.”
“You have,” he answered, sipping his tea before he said anything else more foolish.
(Y/N) inhaled and exhaled, as if the world was no longer on her shoulders. “Haldir, what would you be doing if you were not called to be a Marchwarden?”
He blinked in surprise—he’d never given much thought to it. “I…I confess I do not know. Being a Marchwarden is all I have ever known. Even my brothers are such.”
She perked up at that. “You have brothers!” her face split in joy. “Oh, what is it like? I was a lone child to my parents.”
Haldir suddenly went monotone as he replied, “Annoying. My brothers are…quite a handful even on the best days.” A laugh escaped her, and she covered her mouth to hide the giggles and Haldir found himself smiling along with her; when she had calmed, he asked, “What of you, Lady (Y/N)? If you were not the Lady of Wintergrave, what would you be doing?”
“I think…I think I would be a writer,” she answered. “I have always loved listening and telling stories. My mother used to tell me I spent more time with my nose in books than I did learning about how to govern my people.” She felt her cheeks warm, and she glanced at the reflection in her cup. “Stories…allowed me to immerse myself into the freedom I did not have a child.”
“You were not free?”
“I was lonely…and without many friends. Though my people look after one another, there is still a divide in the classes. My family wasn’t detached per say, but we weren’t in constant contact with the common people.” She seemed almost forlorn as she murmured, “My only friends were the heroes in the stories I read.” Almost as if her sadness wasn’t there, she smiled and admitted, “I used to imagine that the heroes were with me in daily life. I would talk to them in my mind and go through life with their council.”
Haldir smiled, but it was rather sad. “I’m sorry that you did not have a friend to call your own as a child, Lady (Y/N).”
Her eyes were kind as she nodded. “Thank you, Haldir.” Taking a leap of faith, she smiled at him. “Perhaps it is lucky that I can call you, a friend now.”
“Indeed.” He smiled back at her, and her heart fluttered at it.
***
“Mae.”
“Mae.”
“G’ovan.”
“G’ovan.”
“Nen.”
“Nen.”
“Good. Now together. Mae g’ovannen.”
“Mae go-oven.”
Haldir let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. “That wasn’t even close.”
“It was too!” (Y/N) retorted.
“How on earth did you turn g’ovannen to go-oven?” his expression pinched. “It doesn’t even make any sense.”
She scowled at him and retorted, “I asked you to teach me elvish, not begrudge me.”
“Well, I would teach you my tongue if yours could work properly enough to speak it.”
A huff escaped her. “You are most rude, Haldir. So mean to a kind lady.”
He narrowed his eyes at her and pointed. “You are anything but kind.”
“I take great offense to that.”
“As you should.”
She glared at him, and he her until their scowls gave way to humored smiles and they laughed, leaning on one another.
“Perhaps a break is in store for us,” Haldir suggested, and she nodded, rising from her seat.
“I think that is a splendid idea, lest we begin screaming at one another in our native tongues.”
Haldir held out his arm and she took it, letting him escort her to their usual tea spot. As they sat down, a few elves decorated the table with a teapot and two cups along with sweet cookies for them. “Ni ‘lassui En,” Haldir murmured with a nod, and she smiled at them, tipping her head.
“Thank you!”
As he poured their cups, she gazed at him, taking in the sight of the elf at peace. He was rather handsome. Long, beautiful blonde hair, strong nose and jaw, gorgeous blue eyes. She couldn’t deny an attraction to him, but that was just physical. Haldir was a good man. Loyal, honorable, kind, and fiercely protective of his home and those he loved.
“Is there something on my face?”
She blinked, cheeks warming, and she looked down. “No, my apologies for staring.”
“I am not offended,” he simply answered and turned the plate, offering the strawberry tart.
“How did you—”
“You always eat them first when they are offered.”
“I…” she smiled. “I wasn’t aware you were paying such attention.”
Haldir’s cheeks tinted crimson, and he cleared his throat. “Yes, well, it is good to make notice of your surroundings and what others engage in.”
“Uh huh,” she answered cheekily, smiling through his attempt at a scowl; she sipped her tea, asking, “Have you heard word of the Fellowship lately?”
“They are traveling to Isengard.” He looked grim. “I have not heard such great news if I am entirely honest.”
Her expression turned solemn, and she reached forward, placing a hand on his. “Whatever happens, I know you will do what I right by honor, Haldir.”
He looked at her, gently turning his hand up to gently thumb at her wrist. “I confess, (Y/N), I have come to enjoy our time together. These last few months have been…the greatest joy I’ve come to know.”
“As have I, Haldir,” she replied softly. “I do believe at this point I have entirely overstayed my welcome, but I find that when I am making a mind to leave…you, come to my mind.”
“Truly?”
She swallowed thickly and admitted, “I confess to you, Haldir, I…” she let out a sigh and steeled her nerves. “I am withholding feelings for you. In fact, every time I see and speak to you, my feelings only nurture.” She suddenly felt so exposed and rose from her seat, walking to the rail, gazing out at the nighted forest. “I know it is unwise to feel this way for you. You, an immortal, and me, a mortal. It is doomed from start to finish.” Her expression turned dejected. “Still though, I cannot feel the desire to remove you from my heart. You have stolen it.”
She waited for rejection, for laughter, for disbelief. Anything, but when his hand came to her lower back and he took her chin in his other hand, turning her face to him, she was surprised to see a look of fondness on it.
“Haldir…?”
He tipped his head down, lips brushing hers as he whispered, “Lady (Y/N), might I bestow a kiss to you?”
“I…please,” she pleaded, shutting her eyes and he sealed their lips, her body turning to face him as she raised her arms, hands winding around his neck as his wound around her waist.
Haldir felt his heart beating wildly in his chest, in his pulse like he was in battle, but this was so much more adrenaline-pumping than a fight. He knew she needed air, he did too, but the feeling of her lips against his made his heart soar and only when she tipped her head down, panting against his jaw, did Haldir come to the realization that he was madly in love with the woman he rescued all those months ago.
“I,” she breathed deeply. “I hope I am not naïve in assuming that this means you also feel for me?”
He took her chin in his hand again, pressing his lips to her eyelids and then her lips, once, twice, thrice, and murmured, “I would march to Mordor itself it meant you would be waiting for me.”
She giggled girlishly and shifted in his grip. “Well, you certainly know how to make a woman smile.”
“The only woman who matters.”
“Haldir…many will judge us, your people and mine, let alone the other races.”
He nodded solemnly. “Then I will declare that my love for you is endless.”
She looked up at him. “You know I will die before you…yes?”
Again, he nodded, though this time it looked as if the air had been taken from him; he took a breath. “Even so, I will love you until the end of the age.”
(Y/N) smiled up at him. “I…I love you, Haldir.”
“Melin gin,” Haldir professed, though he seemed upset.
“You are downhearted.”
He nodded. “Lord Elrond has come. I am to lead an army to Helm’s Deep and assist the fight against the orcs.”
“No…”
“I must,” he said. “It is my duty.” She frowned, tried to turn her head away but he wouldn’t let her. “Él gûr,” he murmured. “You have loved me enough to meet me in this age, love me enough to know I will come back.”
“But what if you do not?”
Haldir gazed at her, thumbing her lip. “If I do not, I want you to do your duty. I want you to find love again and live the life with someone like we wanted to.”
Tears flooded her eyes. “But I want it with you.” She grasped at his tunic. “I want that life with you, Haldir.”
“Then I will do my duty and come back to you.” He searched her gaze. “Melin gin, (Y/N).”
She felt her lips wobble, but she promised in return, “Melin gin, Haldir.”
***
Word had reached Lothlórien that many of the elves sent had fallen in battle, yet no word had ever been spoken of Haldir. It had her one pins and needles, many times seeking council with Lady Galadriel who merely listened to her worries and commanded, or urged her, to keep heart, that evil could just as easily take over a heart in grief.
She somehow managed to steel herself and when the trumpets sounded, signaling the return of the soldiers, she rushed down with many of the healers, waiting to know if her love had returned or if he had perished. She watched as soldier after soldier, the ones that had survived, passed by, yet she never saw Haldir. Her heart ached in her chest, and she hurried into the thicket of soldiers being attended to.
“Please, someone tell me where Haldir is!” she pleaded. “Has he fallen! I must know!”
Many of the elves stared at her, brows pinched like they couldn’t understand why she was so upset, but one stood among the fray and caught her attention.
“Haldir cuina.”
She shook her head. “I don’t…? I don’t understand.”
The elf frowned, gesturing around like he was searching for the word before muttering, “Life.”
(Y/N)’s eyes widened, and she grasped his arms. “Haldir is alive? He lives?” The elf nodded and she laughed tearfully, relief flooding her body as she knew her love was alive.
***
It was a rather beautiful ceremony, seeing Aragorn crowned king, Arwen, his beautiful bride beside him. She stood next to the other Lords and Ladies of Middle Earth, pledging their alliance to the king. And while the ceremony was one for the memories, the feast that had come after was one for the ages.
Laughter, joy, and happy tears escaped the members of the palace, the esteemed fellowship all at the front with Aragorn and Arwen. Even Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn had shown up and she waved at them from her spot on the table, them giving knowing smiles in return. She still hadn’t seen Haldir, but no one, especially Legolas or Aragorn had yet to pull her aside and tell her otherwise, so she held out hope that they were simply missing each other at different turns in the same city.
Air called to her after many rounds of wine and ale and she was given permission to go to the ledge of the higher quarters, which she appreciated greatly, extending her thanks to the King and Queen.
(Y/N) stand at the balcony, watching the parading and partying in the street. Rebuilding would certainly come soon, but for now, the greatest evil known had been vanquished and the people would look forward to a future of happiness. She look to the heavens, closing her eyes as she said a quiet prayer to the elven Gods, that they would send Haldir to her.
As soon as she finished, she opened her eyes, and seeing something in her peripheral, spun, screeching like a bat at the scare. However, a hand slammed, carefully, against her mouth followed by, “Él gûr, be at peace. It is me!”
She blinked and gaped at Haldir, suddenly surging forward with ecstatic joy as she latched onto him. “Haldir!” she burst out.
He laughed, wrapping his arms around her. “I have come home to you, (Y/N).” She pulled away, tears in her eyes and he sighed fondly at her. “You are such a crybaby.”
“I’ve waited so long for you, my love,” she confessed in tears, struggling to wipe the seemingly endless flood of them away. “So long I waited for you to come home. On the worst nights I feared someone would tell me they found your body and I would have to go on without you.”
Haldir frowned. “I’m sorry for keeping you so long, él gûr. It was never my intention.” He gently pushed some hair behind her ear. “The war was long, and traveling was difficult. But I have held my promise to come home.”
She tipped her head to the side. “You will still have me? And a life with me? Despite the hurt in our future?”
He inhaled deeply and murmured, “I have thought long about this, (Y/N). And of all I know, I know this the best—we are never promised happiness. If we find it, especially love, we must hold tight to it and never let go.” He gazed at her. “You will inevitably die before me. But I know that however many years we get with each other, we will love and hold fast to it.” Tears dripped down her cheeks and he leaned forward, kissing them away. “Do not cry, él gûr.”
“These are tears of happiness,” (Y/N) replied with a laugh, and looked at him, taking his hands in hers. “I promise by the light of this moon, that I will love and cherish you for all of the time I am given, Haldir of Lothlórien. May the love we have bloom for ages and never die.”
Haldir leaned down and nuzzled her nose. “And I promise to you, (Y/N) of Wintergrave, that so long as I live, even when you are gone, I will remember and hold dear to the love we nurtured.” He smiled at her. “And I will love and cherish our children and teach them always of their mother who loved them more than the world.”
“We aren’t even married yet!” she spluttered, and his smile turned into a smirk.
“Are you trying to tell me that you do not wish to have a family? Él gûr, I am hurt by this.”
“That is not what I said!”
“I am fairly certain it is.”
“It is not!”
The night in Gondor was warm, joy filled the streets, love filled the hearts of the people together, hobbits, dwarves, elves, and men had once again forged a bond deeper than blood. And they all looked to a brighter future the next day—and perhaps another wedding!
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