The Image in the Mirror by Ysilme

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Cerin Amdir

Artano walked to the bathing pools, a towel slung over his shoulder, carrying a basket with toiletries and some nibbles. It was only afternoon but already dusky under the trees, too early still for the small lights illuminating the major areas and paths at night, but dark enough to no longer see everything clearly, thus creating a rather private atmosphere. 
Since they had arrived this had become his favourite time, the hour or two after the end of the daytime activities, when the energetic buzz of the day calmed down to a more leisurely pace. Most people returned home, although many also came to the pools sooner or later, everybody resting and relaxing until the evening meal and the night’s entertainment. 

He was early and found, much to his joy, the farthest pool still unoccupied. Setting down his basket at a convenient stone ledge which created a comfortable back-rest for a bather, he undressed, folded his clothes into a neat bundle, and slid into the cool water. A few strokes brought him into the middle of the small pool, where he submerged, relishing the absolute calm and quiet underwater as long as his breath held. Life in Lindórinand was still turbulent with all the refugees from Eregion finding their place among Amdír’s people, and Artano was much sought after as an advisor to the Eregion Elves, who regarded him as their spokesman and leader, and at times as an intermediary for all kinds of issues between residents and newcomers. Having time for himself was rare enough, and he enjoyed every moment. 

Swimming back to his ledge, he got a dish of soap out of his basket, and started to unbraid his hair. His hair style often went in accordance with his sense of self; Galadriel wore her hair open, Galadrien braided it back in one style or another, and Nissondo had even cut it short at times. Artano preferred a full braid down his back, sometimes joined by more elaborate braiding at the temples, like today - Celebrían had insisted of doing his hair in the morrow, and he had let her, knowing it was her way of spending more private time together. 

Taking his time with lathering and rinsing first his hair, and then his body, Artano let his mind wander. He had missed this in Eregion; not only bathing under the sky and in a natural water-body, but also just bathing for recreation and cleansing, and not also as part of social life. The bathing houses in Ost-in-Edhil were - had been - marvels of modern engineering with all the amenities one could wish for, except for real privacy. There had always been people around you needed to interact with, like it or not, and make polite conversation - at least he managed to always steer clear of outright gossip, something Galadriel had always abhorred. Here, though, it was an unspoken rule to leave people alone if they were by themselves, except in the first pool where people went who sought company. 

Going to the public baths in the city had held another disadvantage for him, though.
He had always loved water and enjoyed swimming, diving or even just frolicking around. Being submerged and cut off from the rest of the world made him feel fully at one with himself, the cool touch of water everywhere on his body reconciling him with the fact that so often, his body neither felt nor looked like he wanted, he needed it to be. He could change his hairstyle, his garments, even his name, and have people address him with his preferred pronouns. But he could not change his body, and at times, that was difficult to bear. At times, he felt just wrong in his skin, and it was good if at such times, he had a means to feel better about himself despite this wrongness. 

Going bathing or swimming had always been such a means, provided he would be left in peace, to be with himself and be allowed to reunite with his body. As if on reflex, he cupped his breasts and then slid his hands down his flanks, following the curves of his waist and hips, too curvy for a male, even considering that he had an androgynous figure even for an elf. It always felt comforting to feel the shape of his body when he was not feeling all woman, even if it was not the right body, the body he wanted to feel. But it was his body, and it was all right to feel what he felt, and to be what he was. 

None of this had been possible in Ost-in-Edhil, though, as it had been very much frowned upon to do anything that was considered indecent, and that was a lot. We might have been a city of Elves in name, but in custom and habit, we have become more of a city of Mortals, and have adopted all those foreign ideas so unusual for us.
You could touch somebody else’s hair to wash it, or wash yourself, but that was about it. Even partners giving each other a peck or sitting too close together was a no-go, and going bathing had quickly lost its appeal to him. He still went as often as it was expected, for social reasons, but preferred their own bathing chamber for cleansing, and for being with himself.

Thinking of Ost-in-Edhil brought back the last time he had spoken to Celeborn, already a fortnight ago. Submerging again to rinse out his hair, Artano reached for his comb and recalled the conversation while entangling his tresses. 

0=0=0

“Are you there, my sun?”

Artano started and cursed softly as he had pricked his finger with the sewing needle. 

“Telpo! Is something amiss? I did not expect to hear from you so soon.”

“Is Bría with you?”

“No, I am alone, sewing. Why do you ask?”

“I have somewhat bad news, and I do not want her to overhear.”

“Go ahead.” Their daughter was not very experienced using ósanwe yet, but, due to the strong bond she shared with her parents, sometimes picked up bits of their conversation if she was around and knew they were farspeaking. 

“We have had another Yrch encounter, just before the pass. We lost Ramben, but the rest of us is fine.”

Artano put his sewing down, suddenly chill. “I am so very sorry. Do you want me to tell their wife?”

“I would prefer to tell her myself, but who knows when I will be able to do that. The pass is too dangerous, we are turning around and will go north.”

“I see. I will tell her, then.”

“Thank you.”

“Perhaps Elrond’s valley would be the better choice after all.”

“Yes, perhaps, although we need to get there first as well. We will try another crossing a bit further to the north, but first find a bird for Harnith to send out, so hopefully we will not meet with another surprise.”

It was hard to miss Celeborn’s frustration. 

“That sounds sensible. But please, Celeborn, do not take any unnecessary risks. I would rather be separated from you than know you in even more danger.”

“I know, and I promise to be careful. But the way back might be equally as dangerous; it was not one of my best ideas to leave the valley, I must admit.”

“It cannot be helped now.”

“No. Look, I need to go. Give my love to Bría, will you?”

“Of course. Namárië, my star, be safe!”

0=0=0

This was the last time they had farspoken. Not hearing anything after that had increased Artano’s worry until finally, a messenger bird had arrived a few days ago, bringing the news that Celeborn’s company was heading north to Imladris and had not encountered any further enemies.  

Artano put away his comb and braided his hair into a loose queue, and then made use of the still empty pool to swim a few more rounds and stretch his limbs. 

At least he had always had Celeborn. Even as the circumstances had forced him into being, on the outside, Galadriel only for all this time, he had found his relief when being with his mate. In the privacy of their home, he had been able to also be a different self, although he had done it less and less often, as it had been easier to ignore his needs and be Galadriel continuously, than forcefully switching back at a moment’s notice when somebody unexpected arrived. But between the two of them, he had always been able to be just who he was at that moment. 

Celeborn, this wonderful man, had found a simple way to follow Artano’s changes of self, as far as physical intimacy was concerned. Artano knew Celeborn loved his breasts, but would only give them attention, or even notice them, when he was Galadriel, or Galadrien and indicating he liked it. (Galadrien was complicated.) Celeborn would also be a bit rougher when he was Artano - had they ever been together when he was Nissondo? He could not remember; Nissondo had mostly existed before he met Celeborn - and adapt to activities and positions which were more likely to be used by two men together. 

Most of this was very subtle; it had taken him a while to even notice, perhaps also because Celeborn had not been aware himself, as he was doing this subconsciously. Probably more than anything else - no, certainly - though, Celeborn’s instinctive and natural acceptance of all of Artano’s selves had helped him to reconcile with himself during difficult times, when his mind and body were at odds, and to feel just awesome anytime else. 

Suddenly, there was this intense feeling just at his core, as if something else was there. Celeborn. 

“And who are you today, my radiant one?”

Artano smiled as all of his worries vanished, for he knew at once that Celeborn had arrived in Imladris, and was safe.”

“I am Artano, and I love you.”

0=0=0=0

Chapter End Notes

Hithaeglir = Misty Mountains

We do not know about the existence or the name of a designated settlement in Lothlórien/Lindórinand under King Amdír's reign, altough there doubtlessly must have been one. His son Amroth’s dwelling was called Cerin Amroth, and it seems plausible that also Amdír might have lived on top of a hill or mound, which might have been called Cerin Amdír.

The bathing pools of Lóthlorien are curiouswombats’ invention. Also, my take on farspeaking and the link between bonded mates as well as parents and children has been influenced to a good degree by her explorations of these ideas in her Returnverse stories.

Writing this story was an interesting and enriching journey, which presented me with some unexpected difficulties.
When I was asked if I could imagine writing a genderqueer character I was happy to give it a try although I have no personal experiences, nor close acquaintances I could have consulted, only a rising interest in writing queer characters in general. I had a lot of fun writing this story and am quite happy with how it came out. However, since I do lack personal experience, I can only hope that I did justice to the prompt request, and did manage to write a genderqueer character successfully. You might perhaps miss issues or questions about this subject addressed here, or find others you wouldn’t expect; but please keep in mind that this is just my take on the subject and no generalisation, as well as a short moment in the long life of the fictional character in question; and finally that for the sake of this story and the time I had for it some things needed to be simplified a bit to fit into the narrative. I’m assuming at no point that the experiences of my character would be similar to those in our reality, or that a genderfluid person would act and react in this way; but I hope I still managed to picture such a character in a believable way.

I expected the challenge to be writing a genderqueer character, since this was a first time for me; but that part turned out to be the easy and fun to write one: in fact, writing Galadriel as genderfluid fit them so well that it felt quite natural to me.
What turned out to be surprisingly difficult was not having any other prompt requests, but a carte blanche, and it took me a long time and several tries to come up with something that would work with how my characters wanted to be presented. By that time, I was a bit strapped for time to do the kind of research I wanted, so I had to leave out a few bits of background I’d wanted to include.

I therefore also need to ask your forgiveness for having painted the society of Ost-in-Edhil in a rather unfavourable and undifferentiated light - this is mainly due to the shortness of the story at hand, and the necessity of creating an oppressive background for Galadriel to set the story in motion. I do think that there were some social and cultural developments in Ost-in-Edhil which eventually created a rather rigid and conservative society, but far more differentiated and complex that it looks like in this story.

My general ideas about Ost-in-Edhil and its culture and society are largely influenced by the writings of Keiliss and pandemonium_213, although they hold no responsibility whatsoever for my not so positive view on it, and if you want to lay any blame, it’s completely no me. ^^

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