#celrondweek

[balrogballs]

Elrond Peredhel (dead wife montage edition)

1/2 of my offerings for @celrondweek is this fanwork-of-a-fanwork, a portrait of elrond as i picture him in the years start coming and they don't stop coming by @i-am-a-lonely-visitor ie the celrond of all celronds, which had the exact same foundational and formative impact on mid-twenties me as realising my favourite barbie was but a pumice stone session away from fitting into my favourite ken's clothes (i named them ben) was on 6-year-old me. anyway you know when you read a fic and you see someone write a character so remarkably and you're just like YOU GET IT. YOU GET THIS FUCKER. that is visitor's series for me. both elrond and celebhîr, but this one is elrond's moment. my little princess man, the dead wife in his husband's dead wife montage (yes i know elrond is technically alive but does elrond-in-late-third-age really count as alive the man would flap off the terrace in his slutty grief corset if even 0.005 more teaspoons of sorrow entered him), as imagined by celebhîr in aman.

other portraits | commissions | freak sketches

[antlered-vixen]

Home - for day 2 of @celrondweek. Here on ao3.

[aroacebaggins]

I may have completely forgotten about @celrondweek. Anyway I wanted to draw them happy in Valinor.

Click for better quality, art reqs open, DM about commissions <3

I love putting Celebrían in green so much.

[pujojoi17042]

Celrond Week-Home

@celrondweek

[arofili]

@celrondweek | celebrían and elrond

…and passing again through Moria with Celebrían she came to Imladris, seeking Celeborn. There (it seems) she found him, and there they dwelt together for a long time; and it was then that Elrond first saw Celebrían, and loved her, though he said nothing of it.

—Unfinished Tales, “The History of Galadriel and Celeborn”

[riding-with-the-wild-hunt]

To rest with you

(a sleepy, post-reunion pair for @celrondweek - lazy mornings at the edge of the world, able to hold each other again at last)

[celrondweek]

6 Days To Go!

Celrond Week starts on the 8th, and as promised, here are a couple of bingo boards you can use to your heart's content! There are no rules beyond an attempt made to make adjacent squares touch (diagonals count!), and if you manage a funny shape, like in Board 2, we'll send you an ugly (not joking) digital sticker at the end of the week.

These are generally meant for ficlets, drabbles, doodles, moodboards, edits, incorrect quotes, meta crumbs, whatever tiny brainworms you’ve got lying around, or you can write a magnum opus, idc. And of course, your attempt should be over the course of the week, unless you want to do it all in one fic, in which case congratulations I guess. Look at you.

Anyway, please tag this blog and use the hashtag: #CelrondWeek and #CelrondBingo so your 'entries' count!

RE NSFW BOARD: please refer to FAQ for rules of engagement, ie smut and let smut, scroll if you dislike, you don't have to play either board and can block 'celrond nsfw bingo' if you don't want to see 18+ content or if you find these choices icky. Or you can make your own and tag us to have it reblogged! If you're participating, please follow Tumblr's guidelines with art/photos and ideally use content warnings (this blog will tag accordingly as well). Also, thank you to schlocktober from which 'cock and ball therapy' was stolen! <3

[isilme-among-the-stars]

Reunion

All good things must come to an end, and so I present to you the last instalment of this series of drabbles for @celrondweek on Day 7's theme Reunion. As promised, find the whole collection on A03 as Broken Monuments.

Elrond

Westerly winds bring rumour of Valinor long before I dock, stirring old fears in my beleaguered heart. To find my wife now recast, rude in health, is more than I had dared to hope.

My Celu is not silver-bright, but golden in this land’s warm light. She, radiant, and I a pale thing beside. The years have been both cruel and kind it seems, for it is she who stands tall and I the broken monument to fortitude, crumbling in her arms.

Here we stand, two scarred, imperfect things on an unmarred shore; testament both to souls’ fragility and strength.

Celebrian

Every Middle-Earthen ship gracing these shores this past age has borne me a letter. My assiduous husband, defeating distance with ink and quill! And I treasured each word, as glimmers of his soul. When silver sails finally bear him to me there are no words. With each passing year he gave of himself until only a wraith remained, and I am afraid. There should not be so little of him in my arms.

“Oh, Celu,” he says, and breathes of me like I were a fresh wind at spring’s first stirring.

I remember then: my husband is one who endures.