#haladriel headcanons

"Halbrand," Galadriel finally greets him with a questioning undertone. He smiles. "I have gifts for you, my friends." "But how?" you ask. King of the Southlands he may be, but here he has only what was offered to him. Halbrand grinns happily. "Celebrimbor let me forge them as thank-you for my work."

"Them?" Galadriel asks, craning her neck to see. Halbrand keeps his hands behind his back. "Left or right?" "What is the gift?" He chuckles. "Which side do you want?" Galadriel remains unimpressed, so he looks to you. You step closer. "The right one." "This one?" he moves his left elbow. "No." You smile at his attempt to see things from your perspective. "Although it doesn't matter." He smirks. "Oh, doesn't it?" What is his gift?

"Let's see, then." With a grand gesture, he pulls out something metallic. It's a sheath containing a simple dagger, which is so small, it must've taken quite the expertise to forge it. "For your protection. Should you ever fall into your enemy's hands." Halbrand produces the other one and hands it to Galadriel. "It is the same," she notes with admiration. "I tried my best." "Thank you," she says. "Yes, they're wonderful. Thank you, friend."

Galadriel unsheathes her dagger and twists it in her fingers. "There's space for a cord." He nodds. "I'm glad you noticed." "Oh," you exclaim with a look towards your own. "I could keep it hidden around a leg or arm." "You could." "And what inspired you to make these for us?" Galadriel demands. "Well," he begins with an impish gleam in his hazel eyes, "I could hardly give you underwear." You chuckle, while Galadriel gasps, understandably. Halbrand holds up his hands. "I am merely joking." "I should hope so," she replies with a small upward tug of her lip.

"They were crafted with precision," you note, and delight when Halbrand shows his teeth. He bows his head. "For my two Elves." "We are not your two Elves," Galadriel admonishes him softly. She eyes you. "In any case, I am not." "But I am your man." He puts a hand over his heart. "Your friend," he adds more simply, to dispel any fear of romantic acceptance.

You couldn't keep the happiness from showing on your face. Halbrand's been wary of you at first, no doubt partly thanks to Galadriel, but now he counts you as a friend, and more. A look towards her makes evident that she's happy for you: her fine lips are lifted, her beautiful eyes gleaming with joy.

Yet in a matter of seconds, exactly after realizing your attention on her, she assumes a more neutral expression. It is hard for her, to be desired again. So you speak up, "You should know, Halbrand, that you're asking us to accept certain grief for centuries for mere decades with you." "Mere decades? A lot can happen in even a year." "Yes," you agree, "but you will die some day, before we do."

If Galadriel is surprised at your understanding, she doesn't show it. "You're a nice person," you tell Halbrand, "but it would be wise for you to form friendships with others of your kind." "Not as easy as you might think," he states with a hint of humor. "No. But neither is losing a loved one. And Elves only marry once." "What about—"

The King of the Southlands stops himself. "Are there no exceptions?" "But one," Galadriel answers grimly, her eyes set on the stony ground. "Finwë's first wife did not wish to be reborn, so the Valar allowed him to remarry." She faces Halbrand. "Though his son Fëanor did not accept his step-mother that well." He shrugs. "And if there are no children?"

Both you and her are childless. Nonetheless, she stays certain, "It is not in our nature to remarry." "But what about multiple marriages at once?" He corrects himself, "Theoretically?" "It is not heard of at all," you answer hesitantly, knowing Galadriel will need more time to heal from her grief. She surprises you with her opinion, "And yet it could he done. If it is meant to be, I suppose. But that is not to happen with the three of us."

Halbrand swallows and nodds. "I understand." Your heart grows heavy, but you understand too, of course you do. There is no reason for you to hope she might reciprocate your feelings enough for a relationship, is there?

"I will see you at dinner," you quickly tell them, and leave.

To Halbrand's surprise, Galadriel lingers, her eyes set on your figure. "Wait a moment," she commands, and he obeys, standing still like a soldier upon her words. "You won't bring up your romantic wishes in the future." "Is th—" "Do you not see what damage your words might cause?" she asks incredulously.

She turns around, focused on a stone bench now. "Elves are strong, yes, but they are not meant to endure heartbreak for centuries." Galadriel keeps her gaze from him, until his rough fingers touch her shoulder to make her look at him...and stay there, in case she'll move again. He nodds gravelly. "I know." "You couldn't possibly know." "Are you saying I didn't lose people?" She inhales. "No."

Of course he lost people. "Yet your understanding of our nature is clearly limited." His fingers brush her arm. "Enlighten me." The touch makes something inside her transform the planned words in her head, yet she...is she speaking for you, who's reciprocated Halbrand's words more times than she ever has?

"Nature may not be the reason why this wouldn't work," she begins instead, "but it plays a great part in it." His hand is still touching her. Not her skin, but she can feel it through her dress. Her next words should make him drop his hand. But she takes her time. "Should you ever wish to court an elf, you must do so in secret, and only openly once both of—" His expression grows harder at the word "both". "Once you're certain there's no other way."

Halbrand stares at her, wondering, Is there no other way? She can't see his thoughts, only his thoughtful expression and the fact that he is still touching her. "You must let me go." His eyes widen immediately, shock in them burning like a flame, brown verging on dark red fire... She's transfixed by it...for a few seconds.

Then she puts her hand over his and pulls it away. "Galadri—" "—You have no chance of making me happy." "Not even happy?" he asks, eyebrows pulled upwards in sadness. Again, she breathes in to calm herself from his...his boldness. "Happy in moment. But not..." "Not what?" She gulps, heavily, as if swallowing the sea water he helped her out of. "Not forever."

He looks away, seemingly accepting. "What about your friend?" he asks more softly than she expected, more understanding of her decision? Or is it something else? Galadriel imagines you: more peaceful than her but with the same want for being rid of the enemy. Blessed and cursed with a long life. She would stay your friend if you let her. "I can only speak for myself." But could she let Halbrand win your heart? His eyes seem lighter now, hope showing on his bearded face. She wants to see your happiness, but grief is a different thing.

"You would inevitably hurt (y/n)." There the fire is again, turned inwards this time. He has seen suffering. He has a past. "I would never do so on purpose." Galadriel raises her head. "True as that may be, grief is inevitable."

"And if I wasn't human? If I lived longer?" She thinks about it, what she hasn't dared think of...

Halbrand the elf, the smith. He might work under Celebrimbor, as he does now, pouring attention into metals with a patience mostly beings other than humans possess. Would he coquet with her as much as he does now? Galadriel finds herself disappointed that he likely wouldn't.

"If you had lived even a fraction as long as I have," she poses thoughtfully, "would you be interested in us as much as you are now?" He doesn't hesitate, "Exactly as much. I said it once and I still mean it: your light is as flattering to you as it is grounding to me." She lets him give this simple compliment, calmed by the fact that he likely meant you as well.

He lets her think. What else would be different if he wasn't human? You could befriend one another, have more time. She hasn't been quite so open with you concerning her attraction towards you and Halbrand. Though if he lived longer, she would be much less open, afraid to ruin a lifetime of friendship...

"If you were an elf," she finally states, "I would've let you get closer even more slowly." She fights the tears. "And I would be more—" Wills the image of Celeborn away. "...protective. Of my friend." By now her eyes are filled, but no tear spills. "You would have a chance, but not to make me fully happy." She looks up. He needs to see she means it. "I don't think anyone can. No matter how long they lend me company."

He saw her sencerity, her tears. Now it is on him to speak. Halbrand breathes out through his nose, his jaw tense from disappointment, but not anger. This is not the perfect courting he planned. Given more time, he could've... In time he will convinced her she will get the perfect life with you and him by her side. He will.

"I'm sorry to hear that you see yourself unable to engage in a romantic relationship again." She nods, glad he stopped his teasing flirting. "May I give you a hug?" He spreads his arms, showing his bare foreaems, which are clean for once. It is a tempting offer. "You may not."

"Very well." Halbrand lets his hands drop to his sides. "Regardless of who I am: can we be friends?" She smiles weakly. "If you continue to make advances on my friend, I won't let you out of my sight." "Advances?" He purses his lips. "I had thought of it as courting." "Courting then." She feels more at ease now that her thoughts are out in the open.

"But tell me: am I worthy of your friend?" This instantly makes her sober up. She needs to focus: is he? Halbrand has been... ...perhaps more considerative of your needs than she has. Yet she doesn't blame herself: she knew you before him, but not well, only having gotten to know you after her husband's death. Halbrand may have been cool towards you in the beginning, and he made jokes about you being the one to whom she, the wild horse, listens... "Well, at least sometimes," he had said once, she remembers fondly. But overall Halbrand is soft and gentle in a strong contrast to the fighting he delivered at his people's side.

She phrases her opinion carefully, "I hope your challenging nature will keep itself at bay when necessary." "It was you who convinced me to help the Southlanders as their king," he reminds her. "And not (y/n)." "Aye. The two of you are different. Not mere concubines." If he doesn't correct himself quickly— "Though that is not possible now. Hm."

They both look away not out of awkwardness but deep in thought.

"How would you go about it as King?" He shrugs. "I hadn't thought about it." "Would you marry?" "Eventually." "Elves only—" "—marry once, I know. Usually. I wouldn't pressure anyone into it." "But you might persuade them?" He smirks. "Convince."

She wants to ask more about his position, but he surprises her completely, "Will you get together with (y/n)?" Galadriel furrows her brows. "Eventually? If I'm gone." "When you're gone... Your image is in front of her clear as the most intricate painting. You, as you mention your favorite things, you, arguing with someone who doesn't understand her, you, finally getting rest after a long quest. She blinks away the nervosity. "Perhaps." "So you'd miss out on all the fun now, only to reap the work of consoling your friend after I'm gone." She imagines her hand on your back, his grave in front of you. "It seems so."

"A sad future." "Perhaps. I...I might still change my mind. But you must decide without me." She faces him with all the certainty she can muster. "Then your feelings for me could become enough?" "They could. It scares me." He nods and swallows down the wish to caress her face.

In a conciliatory move, he holds out his hand. "Until then." Her smile is weak, but the fact that he is handling this so well gives her reassurance. "Until then."

*🔥*💍*🔥* Author's note: I'm surprised at myself for writing the second part this quickly (finished 1 week 4 days after posting the second one!) 🫢 Just so you know what my speed is on its best (including having way more time due to less work) ❤️

Galadriel reveals that Halbrand is the King of the Southlands. She knew he was keeping a secret, and should be all the more reluctant to take his compliments...were it not for the fact that in hindsight, the flirting wasn't tasteless. Perhaps he's merely grasping for a time long gone, meaning to focus on the light in his life. Two lights, to forget the darkness behind him he still remembers.

Is he so wrong for that, trying his best? She herself never dreamed of falling in love again, but finds it easy to agree with your good opinion of him and his of you.

Eventually, your paths will split. Even if you stayed together, helped rebuild the Southlands, Halbrand will die in fifty to seventy years. The man assures you he is tougher than the both of you think, but you know his time with you will be cut short.

"Must we not treasure what little time we have?" he appeals to you after you tell him about the Great Tree in Lindon. "If the power of the elves is diminishing, does that not mean your lives will be shorter as well?" Galadriel gives him a burning look. "We will not let it come to that."

Your ways must part, yet it comes otherwise: when Halbrand is injured, you hasten to save him, and once recovered, he sees the smithy whose work could save your kind. When you see him talking with Celembrimbor, his eyes admiring his surrounding, you smile fondly. Galadriel joins you, her gaze soon falling on them too.

"He is in his element, is he not?" She nods. "But he will have to leave soon to help his people." She opens her mouth again, pretty lips indeeed, but stops herself. It can wait. You greet Halbrand as well as Celembrimbor, and notice that their ideas suggest hope remains.

Galadriel and you find a place to sit. "How kingly does Halbrand appear in your eyes?" she asks after multiple sips of tea, swallowing down the embarrassment at the ambiguity of her question. Still, you answer, "He appears more at ease than ever, now that he is on a break." "Soon he will start helping." You chuckle and take a calming breath. "Halbrand did not strike me as kingly when I first met him. He has a certain confidence from the beginning, but it seemed more chosen than given." Galadriel nods. "Do you think him a liar?" "I—" Nervous as the relationship of the three of you makes her feel, she does not want to be at odds with either of you. Especially not with you, who will live much lounger than him.

"He has ridden into battle for them," you begin. "But perhaps he did it for humankind. Or for Middle Earth?" "Halbrand would've stayed had I not convinced him." She was close to a glimpse of the truth before, she knows it. "Hm. You convinced him..." Her suspicions fall away. "Surely you do not mean...?" "That he did it to impress you?"

She scoffs. "If that is his reason, then surely it was to impress you too." You chuckle. "At first I thought..." She moves her neck. "What did you think?" "That he—"

"—My two Elven beauties!" Speaking of the mortal. "I come bearing good news: Celembrimbor agrees with my proposal to create smaller objects." "You're healed," Galadriel states like an accusation. Looking down, he touches his brunette hair, then smiles and proclaims with wide arms, "As healthy as I could b—ouch." He gives you a lopsided smirk.

"You will stay here for some time," you say, knowing he may be faking a part of the pain. Certainly not all of it. Galadriel eyes him. "And then you need to get back to your people." Halbrand looks towards you, then her, then to the ground and up again. "I will."

Perhaps you should ask now. "Are you helping them by choice?" He thinks for a moment, in which you sense Galadriel tensing. Then he straightens up. "I did not know for some time whether I wanted to rule. I'm not sure I want to. Not this way." His green eyes fall on you. "Without someone by my side." You breathe in steongly enough for him to hear.

Your friend steps forward, "If you do not wish to rule them, at least guide them. You're experienced." Halbrand chuckles, giving you a saucy look. "Not as much as you may think." "Enough," she commands. "You may rest here and tell the Southlanders to organize a replacement. If I pressured you into something too important for you, I apologize." He doesn't deny it, but doesn't confirm it either. "Yes, my Lady."

Neither you nor her are completely satisfied, yet you leave him be, knowing that humans often live with their trauma for the rest of their lives.

"Now," Halbrand.  says cheerfully, "do any of you want to bathe? There is a river." "The Glanduin?" you and Galadriel ask at the same time. "Would you like to come?"

You chuckle at his brazen proposal. "There are bathing tubs." "And our clothes are fresh," Galadriel contributes. He only smiles triumphantly. "All the better for going soon!" "H-halbrand, you can't mean to go naked?" Your face heats at the thought. Galadriel had meant to visit the library, but she cannot let him embarrass himself, "Elves are likely not as accustomed to—to nudity as you are."

To your relief, he holds up his hands. "I shall only wash my hands, then." "Promise." Her criticising gaze must've hit him. "Then I will accompany you," you say and look to Galadriel with a smile. You'd understand if she wished to say here. But she surprises you, "As shall I."

And so Halbrand goes ahead, his merry steps taking him far enough away human ears can't hear what Galadriel has to say. "You're indulging his daring ideas." You huff in faked shock. "I am? Did I not just convince him to keep his clothes on. My, or is that the part you dislike?" Galadriel stands still. "I'm sorry." She shakes her head. "It was a joke," you say quickly. "I know you care about making a good impression. Well, about them letting our friend stay here." "Yes." She takes a breath to compose herself, then walks quickly. "Our friend."

When you arrive at the Glanduin, Halbrand is marveling at the environment and bending down. He lets out a groan and puts his hand to his shoulder. "You overestimate yourself," Galadriel teases. "I have in the past," he admits, suddenly earnest. "In which matters?" you ask softly. He gazes into the river, clean water moving in the sunlight. "None I dare speak of now."

"Is it to do with your heritage?" Galadriel is eager to know. "No," he states. It is the truth. There are things far worse than his heritage.

"But that needn't matter today." He crouches down near the water and cools his face with a handful. Then he rolls up his sleeves and you see his forearms, free of dirt for the first time: thicker than those of Elves, less stretched muscles. Galadriel's swallow reaches your fine ears.

Not an elf, she thinks. But powerful.

*🔥*💍*🔥* Author's note: Hi, this is my first TRoP fic! Is poly Haladriel x Reader something the fandom wants? 🙃 Comments are encouraged (not just about my question) 💚