#oc cellin

[iminye]

Cellin Tinwiel · Maglor's Wife

caranthir's wife · curufin's wife

[iminye]

Norian and Tinwë

For @tolkienocweek day two family members → Maglor's in-laws

The leader of the Lanyar, an Avarian tribe that made its way to the foots of the Blue Mountains and occasionally traveled through Beleriand.

Tinwë is the last of the 144 elves who awoke at Cuivienen and is counted as one of the Nelyar since it was Enel who found him. In his younger days Tinwë was more of a loner who often ventured far from his group to look at the stars in peace. He named a few of the most prominent constellations. When he got older he found that his sight was rapidly declining and over time he lost his eyesight completely. His calm and serene personality however remained the same.

Norian is the second child born in Cuivienen, the first being Elmo. She is the only daughter of Narwë of the Tatyar and his spouse. Like many of her generation her parents pershied in an attack of the enemy leaving her to fend for herself. She is hot headed and stubborn but knows her limits and won't pick a fight she cannot win. Between her and her husband it's mostly her who leads their people.

Both of them traveled westwards but didn't go to Valinor for different reasons. Norian lost the desire to see the West after she had seen the vast beauty of Middle Earth, besides she felt responsible for the smaller groups of elves who chose to remain behind on the way and took them under her wing. Tinwe on the other hand didn't wish to sail without Elwë and Elmo with whom he had become close friends. They met during this time and fell in love.

Together they have three children Morgil, Cellin and Gilorn. When Cellin, their only daughter, chose to marry the Noldorin prince Maglor they were supportive of her choice although Tinwë forsaw that they would have to go through many obstacles in their life. After the first Age they took both of them back in and continued to travel around the lands before eventually settling in Imladris sometime during the Third Age.

[iminye]

An unexpected announcement

So I was on the lookout for some writing prompts and came across the sentences Er wird heiraten/He's getting married and Wo ist dein Anstand?/Where's your decency? on a German prompt word side thing.

This was written in like fifteen minutes. I apologise for any grammatical errors.

"Ah, before I forget to mention it: I'm getting married," Maglor announced at last, but before any of his brothers could process what he had just said, he had already left the room, closing the door behind him with an almost silent click. 

For a moment there was total silence in the conference room, all six remaining men too shocked to say or do anything. 

Most of them stared at the seat where their brother had sat with them for the last four hours, discussing strategies and protocols without even seeming like he wanted to break news that big to them. 

Maedhros was the only one staring silently out the window where the night was fading into another day. A frown had formed on his forehead, but whether it meant anger or confusion could not be deduced from his expression.

It was Curufin who then said, "He's getting married."

"He's getting married," echoed Celegorm, "his poor spouse. They probably don't know what they've gotten themselves into."

"As if you were any better ..." muttered Caranthir, "At least Káno still has some common sense."

"I never said I was a good choice," Celegorm retorted, "just.... argh forget it. I'm probably only mad because he didn't tell us. Even you told us when you started courting Calairie and you used to talk even less than now."

"And you proceeded to make fun of me and tried to be a good older brother by 'helping me out'. You know I can understand Káno all of the sudden. Dealing with you during my courtship was annoying enough."

Curufin made a noise that sounded suspiciously like an agreement while the twins looked rather irritated.

Maedhros sighed. Once again he was glad that besides Káno, Mother, Anairë and grandfather nobody knew about his engagement and marriage. 

But then again he wished his brother would've trusted him enough to tell him he was courting someone. 

~

"Please tell me you didn't just leave them there without any further explanation!"

"I might have..."

Cellin sighed and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "I had to sit down with my parents and explain to them why exactly I was marrying a high elven prince, a Feanorian to boot, and you just said 'I'm getting married' and left? Where is your decency?"

"Did your parents agree?" he asked as if he did not hear the anger in her voice. She looked up to him into his stupidly handsome face. The smug smile told her everything she needed to know about his thoughts. He rather enjoyed what he had done. She should scold him more but alas she knew he wouldn't listen. 

"Of course they did. They know I act with reason - unlike my future husband apparently. Are you all like this?"

If so she had to prepare for a lot of headaches in the future.

Maglor raised an eyebrow, which only increased his smugness, "Were you not present when I told you about my family's escapades?"

"Regrettably yes. I just assumed you were different," she admitted. 

"Never assume anything with us, we're much worse than you'd think."

[iminye]

A long way from home

I always wanted to write something about Maglor's wife Cellin and how she goes searching for her husband. Daeron also made his way here and I'm not complaining. The relationship between him and Cellin can be interpreted however you want but I think of it as queerplatonic.

It had been her goal to find a lost, sad minstrel but as fate played out she ended up with the one she didn't go on a journey for. It was her first journey without any family or friends accompanying her and from the start it had seemed like it would be a lost cause to even go and search for him. Even her always optimistic father had said that such a search would be fruitless.

If someone doesn't want to be found, my dear it becomes an almost impossible task, he had said and smiled in her general direction.

She knew he wasn't just saying empty words but that he spoke from experience. When father said serious things like this he was always speaking from experience but Cellin was never brave enough to actually ask what had made him think that way. What had made him believe this was the way of things?

Now she looked in the direction where Daeron was waiting for her at the end of the pathway some people of the atani had made and wondered if her experience will be different from her father's.

Sure she hadn't found her husband - yet - but someone else whom her people had believed was lost forever.

Would she return with only Daeron in tow, the Sindar would probably praise her for bringing back their lost prince and maybe refrain from referring to her as the victim of her husband's wicked power, brainwashed and manipulated like they also did with Elrond whenever he spoke up in his father's behalf. Or rather done up until rather recently, since Cirdan had noticed it. And if there was one person in this world who could match the terrifying way in which Cellin's mother could show her disappointment, it was Cirdan.

Now the thing was that Cellin's didn't set out to find Daeron and she wouldn't return with only Daeron in tow. Even if everyone else would be overjoyed. Cellin's journey would have missed its purpose and she wasn't sure if she would ever find the courage to set out on another one ever again. She would always find something to do instead of traveling alone, no matter how much she yearned to see her husband again.

She was not an adventurer. Not in the sense in which they are portrayed in stories. She liked to travel in good company, with her family, their little caravan of wagons and a song on her lips, a known destination ahead and nothing to worry about except for the place they would rest at night. She was a comfortable person and she was wise enough to admit that. Her husband had known this too and never pushed her to do things she didn't want to do especially when it came to traveling.

Sure they had to pick up a more nomadic lifestyle halfway through the war but this had been a necessity not something Cellin could decide against. She could have decided against going on this journey and that's where the difference was.

The matter of choice.

She followed Daeron down the path further south, through the lands of those of the atani who not yet had discovered the wheel and who still lived in huts made of clay and dried grass. Those people watched them pass through their little settlements with wonder in their eyes, trading their knowledge of the land willingly for one of Daeron's songs or Cellin's handcrafted toys for their children.

Celllin could watch them for hours for they had not yet seen the terrors of the world and lived and thrived at their own pace, much like her own people had done according to legend.

Neither her nor Daeron spoke much with one another. Their travels were wrapped in silence, like they were strangers… which they weren't.

Cellin had been Daeron's friend when both of them had been children and they had done everything together, had shared secrets and made promises. Cellin was sure that if she hadn't met Maglor she would've ended up marrying Daeron, even if she wouldn't have loved him in the same way she loved her husband. And if she was being honest she still would marry him any day, not out of the same love that she felt for Maglor but out of a very similar feeling.

She didn't know if he felt the same way. He had always been incredibly difficult to read even during the time when they were the closest. But once again she was not brave enough to actually speak to him when the silence between them became too much for her, instead she would start humming some silly traveling song her father had made up of she would keep herself distracted by watching their surroundings with even more care than necessary.

She noticed the side glance he would give her but since he never said anything, Cellin assumed he just found it silly how she behaved.

Only very rarely would he join her in her silly songs and those were some of the most carefree times on their journey, reminding Cellin very much of her life before the War, before the Fall, before everything. Those moments never lasted long and she mourned them once they were over. The memory however she kept close to her heart, so that it could make the silence that would always follow again more bearable.

"We're coming closer to the shores," Daeron said one day when they once again left an atani village behind. "I can smell the salt of the sea."

"Can you?" Cellin wondered. "I didn't know that."

"Me neither," he replied and shrugged. "Father never allowed me to go near the shore and I never actively went there myself even after I left."

"It's… nice," Cellin said but tried not to think about the last time she had seen the sea, tainted red in the blood of yet another fight her father-in-law's path had caused his son's to take.

"So I have heard but there is even more. Some of the villagers spoke of a ghost that roams the black shores to the southwest, with a voice as enchanting as a siren - whatever that may be."

He didn't need to say more because Cellin knew what this could mean. She would've loved to cry out in joy.

"We shouldn't get our hopes up," Daeron said and put a hand on her shoulder. "Humans tell many tales and most of them prove to be quite untrue, they're not good at remembering history correctly."

"Every tale holds a bit of truth," Cellin shot back and Daeron just nodded.

Neither of them asked the other why they hadn't bothered looking near the sea in the first place, given that everything Cellin had heard always said that her husband was wandering the shorelines, but then again Cellin had never asked Daeron why he was helping her and Daeron had never asked Cellin what she actually was looking for. There was a silent understanding between them, that didn't need questions or answers.

They took the little they had and continued to travel, this time with a destination in mind and Cellin felt how this alone made her feel much more comfortable.

The closer they came to the shore, the more frequently they were plagued by storms and rain. Thunder would roar high in the clouds with the might of ten thousand lions and lightning would strike across the dark skies as bright as a star. They would huddle together under the cover of the trees, Daeron's large cloak covering their heads, shielding them from the cold, the rain, the lashing winds.

Still they didn't speak much but the silence between them was different now. Cellin couldn't put into words what had changed but she wouldn't dare to complain.

She would wait and listen to the thunder, the distant waves, the howling winds and Daeron's quiet breathing near her ear. And sometimes, sometimes there was something that sounded like a voice carried by the wind but each time she thought to hear it it would be swallowed by some other noise.

"It's not your imagination," Daeron would tell her, calmly stroking her shoulder. "I hear it too."

"Just like you can smell the salt?"

"Hm.." He replied and smiled faintly. "Just like I smell the salt. Come now the sky is clearing up. It is time to reach the shore."

Eventually they did so and it was as the villagers had told them. The sand upon these shores was a black as obsidian, as the darkest night under a starless sky but it was warm underneath their bare feet when they walked on it, following the distant voice even further south.

Cellin wondered which part of the world they had reached now and whether her husband would lead them to the end. How far would Lake Cuivienen be from where they were now? And would it be like her father and mother had told her? Should she ask Daeron if he wanted to go looking for it on their way back?

…

If he wanted to return with her and Maglor that was. She wasn't sure if he would. Maybe he preferred to travel like this? Was it possible that he only helped her find her husband and would leave them once they had done so?

The thought actually made her sad and before she knew it she was wiping tears off her cheeks. Tears that had somehow found their way from her eyes and didn't go unnoticed by her companion.

"He's not far, no need to cry now. You'll be able to go home with him soon enough."

But what about you?, she wanted to ask but her throat could produce no sound aside from ungly sobs. Won't you come with us? Will you leave us? Again?

He stroked her back and helped her silently through the avalanche of emotions that had overtaken her heart.

Eru, she loved him, as much as one could love their best friend, as much as one could love their family. She wouldn't want to go home without him, leave him. It would feel like leaving a part of her soul behind. She knew that feeling all too well, she had experienced it before and she didn't want to live through that pain again.

"You're not crying because you're happy to see him again?" Daeron asked.

"I… I am happy," Cellin replied when she found her voice again. "But I'm also sad because finding him would mean for you to leave us."

He remained silent then and in silence they continued to walk, towards the voice that was lamenting, only fueling the many feelings that were battling inside her chest with all the sadness told of.

Daeron's hand remained on her shoulder for the rest of this short way.

[iminye]

An older brother's duty

No plot just fluff and baby OC Feanorians, also this is very silly featuring Gilrin and Nelladon, Maglor's children. This was written in fifteen minutes. Ammë = Mother/Mommy, Atto = Father/Dad, both are Quenya.

Ammë wants him to take care of Gilrin. 

Alone. 

It's the first time he is tasked to take care of his little sister alone. All the other times before grandfather, Gilloth or Elrond were present but grandfather is away on a journey and Elrond and Gilloth are busy preparing for the visitors from Lórien. Everyone in Rivendell is busy with the preparations, everyone but Nelladon. 

He's not allowed to help with preparations anymore, not since the candle incident during the preparations for the winter solstice celebration that cost the High King his eyebrows. 

Ereinion had taken it with humour, Ammë and Elrond hadn't. He has been kept away from anything related to candles ever since.

For everyone's mental well-being, Elrond insists but Nelladon knows that he's just worried about his own set of well groomed eyebrows. He sometimes wonders if he could find a way to burn them too someday not because he hates Elrond, he doesn't, and not because he wants his ammë to be angry with him again, he doesn't actually know why he is wondering this. It's probably in his blood or something.

He would need someone to trust him with fire again if he wanted to try it and he knows nobody would. Not even Glorfindel and he was always up for some fun. 

But back to his current problem. 

He is still very much not prepared for his task when Ammë places Gilrin in his lap around midday, kisses both their foreheads, tells Gilrin to be a good girl and to listen to her big brother and tells him that she is proud of him and that she will be back around supper.

What she doesn't say is that Atto is sleeping in the next room and they should only wake him if there is a problem because Nelladon knows this - probably better than he knows anything. Atto should only be woken when the situation is dire because he needs as much rest as even possible. 

So technically he's not fully alone but because he can't wake Atto he still kind of is. 

Given this his top priorities besides keeping Gilrin safe and alive are also to keep her happy and quiet.

That couldn't be so hard, right?

Gilrin is not a baby anymore after all, she can talk and understand what he wants from her. 

Just to be sure she doesn't accidentally make too much noise and wake Atto he decides to take her into the garden that is easily accessible from his parents' quarters. 

There is a small patch of grass on which Nelladon places one of the blankets from the sitting area, making sure there are no small rocks underneath it for optimal comfort.

Gilrin giggles happily when he lets her down, waving her short arms at him and radiates pure glee. 

But beneath that innocence lingers a little devil he soon realises because as soon as he gets up to fetch some of her favourite toys for her to play with Gilrin uses the moment to get advantage and crawls off immediately.

She can walk, she's actually a very fast runner already, but she's also very lazy and prefers to crawl whenever she can.

Nelladon drops the toys as soon as he sees her crawling away and hurries after her. 

He picks her up with a racing heart and sits her down on the blanket again but as soon as he lets go of her and looks away for one second to grab her favourite doll she's on her merry way once again. 

Even though he immediately jumps after her he's only able to catch her near the flower beds on the opposite side of the garden. 

Gilrin giggles all the way back to the blanket and only gets a bit more quiet when he lets her down again. There is a mischievous look in her round gray eyes and she looks left and right, searching for a new destination.

This time Nelladon is prepared. 

He catches her the exact moment she tries to get into motion again and starts tickling her.

He himself is very ticklish so he hopes this will work with Gilrin too. Grandmother loves to tickle him until he is out of breath and begging for mercy. 

It seems like Gilrin is very ticklish too. Soon there is laughter bubbling out of her small mouth and she tries to get him to back off with small weak punches and kicks. 

"Nyell! No, no! No more tickle!", she laughs. "Will be good now! No running away!"

He stops for a moment and blinks at her. She turns her head sideways and blinks back.

"Promise?" he asks, fully aware that she will try again. It's a game for her, of course she will.

Gilrin nods very seriously.

"Promise!"

He has to catch her fifteen more times before Elrond comes to fetch them for dinner and by that time both of them are covered in grass, dirt and flower petals.

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