Small Note! Graphics will drop on June 15th instead. Looking forward to seeing everyone's submissions on July! And for anyone wondering, yes feel free to share this event on other platforms. Just make sure to link it back to this tumblr. And if users on other platforms would like to share their creations as well, then the more the merrier!
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July 14
First Meetings, Impressions, The Heart Stirs
A Gaze Caught. The Fire Ignites.
“Is this the love they speak of in songs and poems?”
July 15
Dedication. Courtship. The Heart Blooms.
Gifts of Love. Words and Songs.
“Oh beloved mine, where might I rest but your embrace?”
July 16
Marriage, Vows, The Heart Bound in Love
An Exchange of Rings. Melding of Houses.
“This I vow from here on forth, and beyond the world’s end.”
July 17
Kingdoms. Refuge. The Heart Endures
Crowns of Silver. Realms Rise and Fall.
“With you by my side, I have nothing to fear.”
July 18
Separation. Conflict. The Heart Grieves.
War and Loss. When Paths Diverge.
“How far will the lonely road take us before we renew our love again?”
July 19
Lothlorien. Children. The Heart Heals.
When Wounds Mend. The Throne of Elvendom.
“By our toil, future generations shall persist before the Shadow.”
July 20
The West. Undying Love. The Heart is Eternal
Beyond the Tribulations. The Last Ship.
“In the end, it is you and I who remain past the fading of the ancient days.”
Here are the prompts folks! Graphics will drop on the June 7th! Happy creating. Cannot wait to see everyone's works!
We also have an A03 Collection. It will drop the same day as the graphics.
Hello everyone! The poll results are out. Celedriel Week 2026 will run from July 14-20! Prompts to follow. I look forward to seeing everyone's submissions!
Per the results of the poll, Celedriel Week will return for 2026! Now I need ya'll to decide if we're doing this in June or July. Thank you to everyone who voted on the poll!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Anya is LIVE right now
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Hello Celedriel enjoyers! How are you all doing? I hope Celedriel Week was enjoyable for you all last year despite the problems on the mod side. I am making a poll to determine whether there is enough interest in Celedriel Week 2026.
Celedriel Week 2026
Yes
Maybe Next Year
Other
Voting ended onMar 10
Please reblog this to reach more people! And I would love to hear your thoughts so please feel free to reach out. Anon questions are open.
Hello there! If there is enough interest in a year 2 of Celedriel Week, then yes it will return! Last year the mod was overwhelmed by the responses and it happened just as the mod got terribly ill. But this might be a better year for Celedriel Week!
Final ficlet for Celedriel Week: day 7, 'the West'
[900 words; Fourth Age. Previous @celedrielweek days in the same fic series: meetings | courtship | marriage | kingdoms/refuge | separation/conflict | lothlorien ]
Ossë takes the shape of a great fish, its broad silver sides shimmering in rainbows. It lurches itself onto the wet grass at the stream’s edge, flips its tail, arcs itself with a thrash of its tail further onto the bank, and then shifts through a number of shapes - an otter, a dolphin, a branching coral the colour of apricots - before settling into an elf-like figure in robes that shimmer like scales. “Greetings,” he says.
Celeborn sits back upon his heels. “You are lost, Maia.”
“I am precisely where I wish to be.” He shakes the water from his hair, an oddly otter-like gesture. “I am Ossë to my own kind. I am Gaerys to those of your people who fear me and Yssion to those of your people who followed me. It is you I came to find.”
“And what should I want with a Maia of the sea by any name? The sea took my home, and then my son, and then my daughter and then my wife.”
“I was sent,” Ossë says. He holds out his hand, and water pours over it and then emerald-green seaweed and then both clear away to reveal what he holds: a single, golden mallorn-leaf.
There is no mallorn left in Middle-earth now. The golden canopies of Lothlórien are long fallen away, and what remains there is no longer Lothlórien. But whatever forests grow in Valinor will not be Lothlórien either and Celeborn knows this truth the way the Maiar can’t and the Noldor won’t: what is lost, is lost.
Ossë places the golden leaf down in the space between them. “Your son has passed through the halls of Mandos and walks again in the forests of Valinor. Your daughter is healed from the wounds to her spirit and now she sings and laughs once again. Your wife is no longer weighed down by exile and grief; she has been welcomed home. But you linger here in a land of fading trees. Do you not wish to leave?”
“None of the elves wished to leave,” Celeborn says. “Not until the Valar pleaded and demanded and herded us across Middle-earth to the sea. Did you come to gather me up like a lost stray?”
“I would not say it precisely that way, but yes. I came to take you across the sea.”
“No,” Celeborn says.
“Middle-earth will fade further for its fate is beyond our power and beyond our sight - it is for mortals now. Already there are farmers cutting down your trees and new roads laid through your forests and soon mortal eyes will not even see you as you pass. The elves will be a children’s tale, a faint song in the leaves. In Aman you will have forests as great as the ones you once knew here and your family again at your side. Do you fear them changed? They are still the ones you love.”
“But I would not be,” Celeborn says. Little use in explaining it to one of the Maiar; they would never understand, not when even Melian who had loved Middle-earth as much as any of them ever could had left it behind as easily as passing from one room into another. Celeborn has known - first when Doriath fell, and then when Beleriand drowned - what it is to lose the land he is tied to, and how it would hollow him out, leave him nothing but a shell of sorrow and silence.
“You do not know,” Ossë says. “I will not bring you to Aman against your will but I will not leave you here without pressing my case.”
“Your case? Did you come here by the Valar’s command or your own?”
Ossë opens his other hand to reveal a scrap of white fur that Celeborn takes from him without thinking. There is no mark on it but he knows this, all the same - he knows it has been cut from the edge of a stole made long years ago on the ice.
“Who are you to stir such pain in me, Maia of the sea,” he whispers without lifting his eyes from the scrap of fur. “Who are you to have me believe Galadriel is permitted to send out the Maiar to do her bidding?”
“A long and turbulent story. She is… determined. And I? Because Ulmo will allow the Maiar who serve him to go where we will, even here. Because I always cared deeply for the Sindar. And perhaps because once my wife brought me to Aman although there seemed no future in it I could bear.”
Celeborn knows this story. As Melian told it, Uinen had bound Ossë hand and foot and fin and claw in seaweed stronger than steel, and pulled him through the waters back to Ulmo. He would laugh, in other circumstances.
“Galadriel says there is future and hope and love awaiting you in Aman,” Ossë says. “You will not become what you fear becoming. She bids me tell you that she knows you better than I or any of my own kind could and she is sure of this.”
An hour of silence passes; and then a second, and then a third. The sun dips low beneath the birch trees.
“Well, then,” Celeborn says, closing his hand around the scrap of fur as he gets to his feet, “let us go to the sea.”