While she lived in Valinor, Galadriel had never thought much of her future marriage. Even as her brother and her cousins wedded around her, she did not think of it for herself. She would know when she found the one she loved, but she lived long enough in Aman without finding them that she began to wonder if she ever would. It was not until Middle-earth - until Doriath - that she had to wonder no more.
"What are the wedding customs among your people?" Celeborn asks Galadriel as they sit in the garden. He has woven a crown of flowers for her hair, which he sets lightly on the top of her head. She laughs at the look on his face when it droops slightly, made just the tiniest bit too big.
They have spoken of betrothals already, and Celeborn has gifted her a silver ring. She wears it always, as Celeborn wears the one she gave him. It is not the way of the Sindar to exchange rings, she has discovered, but she could not imagine feeling properly betrothed without them. Hers glitters on her finger now, catching the sunlight in much the same way as Celeborn's silver hair.
"Ñoldorin weddings are… large," Galadriel says. "And loud. And formal, if you are of the House of the High King." She thinks on them a moment longer, then she shakes her head. "I do not want a Ñoldorin wedding. I want to marry into your House, not have you marry into mine. What is a Sindarin wedding like?"
A Sindarin wedding, as it turns out, is just as large and loud as a Ñoldorin wedding, but significantly less formal. They hold the feast outside, of course, under the trees, and Galadriel laughs and dances not only with Celeborn but also with his father Galadhon, and with his brother Galathil, and with her brothers Finrod and Angrod and Aegnor, and with Lúthien and Thingol and even once, memorably, with Melian. They do not exchange golden rings or gems the way the Ñoldor do, but Galadriel does not need another ring, not when she can feel her silver one press against Celeborn's as their hands touch in their dance, not when every glance at it reminds her of him. Celeborn has told her of a smith in Doriath who can add gold inlay to their rings in whatever pattern they wish, and so they have already planned to go to her tomorrow to add a golden chain of leaves to their rings. It would have perhaps been more traditional to do it before, so they could exchange the new rings on their wedding day, but Galadriel had not wanted to give up her engagement ring until the marriage was finalized, and Celeborn had kissed it gently and told her he understood and swore she would never need to take it off again.
Their vows are said in private. Thingol graciously offers to allow Galadriel to say hers in Quenya, despite his ban on the language, but Galadriel has already decided to say them in Sindarin. Her marriage to Celeborn will not make her Sindarin any more than her Telerin mother or Vanyarin grandmother became Ñoldorin upon their marriages, but she does not plan to go back to Valinor - cannot go back to Valinor - and so this is her tongue now. Quenya is the language of her past; Sindarin is the language of her future.
And as she speaks her vows, and as she and Celeborn wed in a bower of flowers and stars, she knows she has a bright future ahead of her.
