Golden Rays in Moonlight snippet.
Full chapters on AO3 linked below.
The woods are awfully quiet. Difficult to say whether it was a peaceful quiet or a cause for concern. Galadriel hoped for the latter. A nice reprieve from the days of fighting would be welcome. The long trek of war and battles was both an honor and something she wished was not necessary. Peace is a dream she always strived for. But those visions…. Visions of darkness. Death. The Eye. Sauron himself. How could one who knows more pretend everything is fine?
She never understood that from some of her elven kin. Sometimes in the company of her troop, the Northern Commander felt alone, as she could tell they were battle-worn with very little results. No location of Sauron for days since he infiltrated the border of their camp. Using Celeborn’s face telling the proper excuse of why he was with her instead of with the other half of their party, as agreed. Elrond took his place as he heard word of new allies of the Dark Lord. This was not untrue, as Celeborn himself saw dark knights riding in the forests, feeling evil from them. An orc party ambushed them in the middle of last night. Four lives were added to the death toll of the orcs' bloodthirst. It felt like every step closer to stopping the great evil, they got further back. Mind games or nightmares nearly every time she rests. Him creeping in her mind every night…
Wanting a little solitude, Galadriel remembers the river they had passed that was about a two-hour walk. The bath at camp was not bad, but she needed some time with the more peaceful parts of Middle-Earth. Thankfully, all she needed to take with her was some honeyed soap and a towel. On her way off the unbeaten path other than animals, Galadriel finally finds a nice pool of water. Taking a look around, she starts to take off her armor when she notices no one around. The scenery of this little hidden wonder amused her and reminded her why she was fighting. Life. Nice mossy rocks where a little bird was perching. The sounds of rushing water and some frogs jumping out. A… a very wide-eyed clam who was distinctly behind some brush. Galadriel was not fully undressed and still wore her white robes. But the pink on Celeborn’s ears and cheeks told her he was as naked as the day he was born.
“I…I thought you were back at camp.” She asked her husband.
Even though it was Celeborn. It never stopped to amaze her how beautiful he was. Even if he was covered in orc blood and grime of battle. How she missed seeing those light eyes of his that reminded her of the sea. His pale hair tied up with his own hair, highlighting his handsome, sharp features. Looking no different than the Elven statues of old. Strong shoulders that she once rubbed when he would spend days buried in scrolls and books during peaceful times. Lips that would steal her breath away with either sweet words or an embrace. Though the brush hid him well, everything about her husband was both beautiful and impressive.
Celeborn clears his throat. “I could say the same to you.”
He missed her dearly, but he’s been giving her space when she wants it. There when she needed him as she did. But the whole thing with the Dark Lord, Halbrand, and whatever names Sauron went on was conflicting. There was a little tension since Galadriel told him immediately that Sauron used his face in his torments to steal a kiss from her. Since then, Galadriel has been a little hesitant around his touch, when she was always open. Whenever he tried to get closer, she put a respectful space between them. Since it happened, Celeborn only gave her kisses on her forehead or hands after asking for permission. The violation of his beloved in that manner infuriated the Elvish Lord, as he had never seen her so shaken. Galadriel wept in his arms after some of those sights the dark lord gave her.
His heart could never blame Galadriel. Ever. Not even when he had kin telling him he should never marry her, as she was tainted. Or how they wrongly accused her of murder. How could light be tainted? That is where the Dark Lord fails to see. Galadriel’s will and strength are stronger. “Lo.. my lady, if you want privacy I can come back-“
“You never needed to do formalities with me.” Galadriel strides closer to the brush.
Honestly, with how much he’s blushing, it felt like he was no older than 1,500. ‘Pull yourself together, Celeborn.’ He thinks to himself. Though whenever it came to Galadriel, sometimes it was hard to focus. So long he spent looking for her. “Forgive me.”
Celeborn looks softly at her and sees the weight of sadness his wife’s eyes carry. “Cáma (My light), what is it?”
She smiles a little painfully, but happier than he was in front of her. “It has been too long since I last saw all of you. You never cease to amaze me.”
Celeborn lightly laughs at how she missed that sound. “And remind me, when was the last time you saw me concealing myself behind a brush?”
“Brush no, fine transparent silks yes.” She’s a breath away from him. “You are a sight I never tire from.” Celeborn tries to kiss her, but she stops him. Images of when Sauron used her husband’s form to twist and manipulate her. He never got as far as heavy kissing, but it felt horrible to her when she realized the truth: she was deceived. Deceived by the man who constantly gropes her mind, and she tries hard ot keep the door shut from his invasions. Why must he torment her solely? It’s a heavy guilt Galadriel felt, even though Celeborn kept assuring her it’s not her fault. How many images did Sauron play to twist his mind, she wondered. “I’m sorry.”
“Avo dhortho, veleth nîn (Do not apologize, my love). I am sorry I was not with you sooner.” His sweet words may not completely soothe her troubles, but it puts a balm over her troubles for the moment.
“That was not in your control.” Galadriel comments.
“And neither is what troubles you most. I know your heart better than most. I know you, nîn(my) Galadriel.” Celeborn softly brings her hand up and kisses her worn knuckles.
Galadriel smiles at his softness. That is how she was able to tell the difference when Sauron tried to worm his way into her mind. He may be stern and sometimes cunning on the battlefield, but he was always soft-spoken with her. “Ollol as nîn, hervenn.(Bathe with me, husband).” She responds back in his language in perfect dialect.
“If that is what my lady wishes.”
“I received a wish I thought impossible recently.” Galadriel slides the last of her garments off her body. Her paler body and yellow hair contrast nicely in the moon glow. Even in this light, she looked like the brightest sun to Celeborn.
“Your beauty never diminishes.”
Her cheeks flush a little. It wasn’t unusual for people to comment about her beauty. But it felt more meaningful and poetic from the prince that danced into her heart. She takes his hand to lead him to the pool of water, with him grabbing soap he brought along as she practically drags him. “How did you find this place?”
“On a patrol a few days ago. Despite how you found me, I was going to tell you about it when I got back. Did not have the time for an earlier opportunity before the ambushes and a petty squabble with some of the men.”
She was glad Celeborn was around once again with her in battle. Dealing with her troop alone was not always difficult, but there were times Galadriel wished she could share the burden as she once did long before her husband was missing. He often kept morale up even if others questioned her. On rare occasion, he was the voice of reason for the troop to his wife. Especially when the wounds of her brother’s death were fresh. He cannot picture the pain she went through with his absence in that regard… The fall of Doriath still haunts him to this day, but it nearly pales in comparison to the separation from his beloved.
“I quite like how I found you.” She cheekily smiles as she steps into the pool of water, with him helping her. He catches her when she nearly slips on a wet rock. “Thank you.”
He nods at her. “You’re welcome.” He smiles at a little memory. Once Galadriel sprained her ankle, and she couldn’t walk for a day. If he recalls right, it was from when she was running in a field and tripped over a large rock. Then she never wore that dress again. Shame really, as the pale lavender color suited her well. “Of course, it would not be the first time I’ve had to carry you to camp.”
She gets in the cool water and eases him into it so he would not slip on that same rock. “You have done that a few times.”
Galadriel bathes her intimate areas first, and is a bit surprised her husband turns his back to her momentarily to give her privacy. Once she was done, she passed the soap to him as she wades in the water. Hearing birds sing within the trees, feels the mud and smooth pebbles underneath her feet. The winds started to pick up, sending in a cool breeze. The cool water soothed what little aches she had. Taking a moment, several moments, admiring her husband’s form. It still feels surreal to her that Celeborn was back, but it confused her at times how he was not angry with her. Not that he was ever really a temperamental elf, other than with Dwarves, which she scolded him for. There was like this dark pit in her. She felt vile and disgusted with herself at being manipulated by Sauron. As well, believing him to be dead when he never lost faith in finding her. She hated feeling hot and cold with her husband of all people.
“You’re cutting the water with daggers.” His soft voice brings her back from overthinking. He was lathering himself up in soap. “Can I wash you?” She asks.
“Only if you talk with me.” She tries to say something, but sees he wants to say more. “Please, my lady, it pains me to see you blame yourself and treat me as a spirit. I am here. We never dismissed our problems before, no matter how big or small they were. That is not how we work.”
It pains him to see her blaming herself, as much as he blames himself for his own responsibilities that led to capture, and he knows Sauron got some details from him to further his manipulation of his wife. Only one person to blame, and the Dark Lord was far in the Southlands. There was never this silence between them until the Dark Lord kissed her.
He was right. That's partially why they always worked; he grounded her even in troubled storms. She too was tired of dancing around this for weeks, but her shame made her hesitant. Even washing off the orc blood from his sculpted body, despite resting next to him last night, felt like a dream she did not want to wake up only to find him gone. It was surreal to see him next to her meditating. But touching him like this was both similar and questionable. That illusion of Celeborn haunts her, along with the other one the Dark Lord likes to play. Join him, or he dies. How dare he use what is hers and has given her joy in the darkest times of her life? Taking him away as they were only starting their travels and goals. Centuries lost that neither can have back.
She cups some water and washes his pale hair. Cleansing the soft long hair from the black blood of orcs he’s slain earlier. “I loathe this feeling.”
“And what feeling is that?”
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