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ashenthornes · 1 month ago

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sweet and soft | elrond peredhel

okay LISTEN

I read this prompt about the elves ears DAYS ago and it has not left me alone. it being their most sensitive part of their body along with touching their ears meaning you want courtship.... and I then had a dream about this with Elrond

not a drop of angst in here, I want to kiss him so bad

enjoy!

***

Sunlight cradles the two of you from where you sit among the gardens in Lindon. It is a rare day where the High King has given Elrond reprieve from his duties as Herald, and you both took the opportunity to spend the time together in the gardens where you’d met.

Elrond only had one condition: You had to play for him. As your skill with a violin was renowned, you’d earned your place as High King Gil-Galad’s violinist who was often called upon for important events. It was what had initially drawn Elrond to you, seeing you playing at Gil-Galad's feast.

That was almost six months ago. Now you find yourself enraptured by the Half-Elven man with his head in your lap, your fingers idly carding through unruly curls as you recite lines of poetry from the book he’d brought to read.

Your first mistake in being so engrossed in your poetry is that you miss Elrond’s breathing hitch when your fingers ghost the tips of his ears. He is aware, as are you, what the implications are behind touching the ears of another elf. Elrond has never made the depth of his feelings for you known.

He is cognizant of one detail, at minimum. Elrond wants to court you.

He is also aware that his cheeks are burning as he turns to press his head into your thigh.

Your fingers curl just beneath the neckline of his shirt before dancing upward once again and repeating the same motion. Out of the corner of his eye, Elrond catches the faint smile upturning your lips as you peer down to meet his gaze. His eyes are astonishing already, but washed in the glow of the morning sun, he almost seems as if he is sent straight from the Valar themselves.

“Is something wrong, Elrond?” You ask innocently. He reaches up to snap the poetry book shut, allowing him the opportunity to sit up and face you. “I thought you were enjoying the poetry. This is our weekly routine, after all.”

He takes those next few beats of silence to allow his eyes to sweep across your face. Elrond has known you to be somewhat of a mischievous person, feigning innocence and naivety in situations where repercussions are demanded if fault is admitted.

“I was simply admiring the person who chooses to spend their waking hours with me instead of making practical use of their time,” Elrond remarks, voice stuttering as you curled your fingers into the lengthening curls at his temples to tug him close to you. “And how devious you are.”

You grin widely at him. Elrond is the only person you have ever allowed yourself to be genuine with. Being in Gil-Galad’s favor means that you so often have to wear a practiced facade of grace and poise. There is no room for child like behaviors.

Being with Elrond allows you to truly, truly embrace the very being of who you are. That is one of the many characteristics you have come to love about him.

“Me? Devious? Surely you are joking." You tease. "All I did was-“

He catches your hand before you can do it again. The two of you sit there in silence for a brief moment as you stare at your hand caught in his own. It’s the first time he’s really taken it. Sure, the two of you have walked with one another in these gardens plenty of times, but only as friends.

You have wanted Elrond for what feels like lifetimes. For the sake of yourself and for him as parts of Gil-Galad’s court, you chose to love him from afar. You didn’t want to impose upon Elrond. He already carried enough.

However, given the way he’s looking at you, part of you quietly wonders if he feels the same way and chose not to speak it for fear of your rejection.

Elrond takes each one of your fingers and spreads them apart, laying a kiss on each fingertip before enclosing your hand with his own. Your breath stuttered in your chest as he leaned impossibly closer.

“You know what it means to touch the ears of another elf,” Elrond said lowly. It almost sounds like barely concealed restraint. “Do not tread upon a path you do not wish to walk down.”

You hum softly and grab his chin with your fingers so he will look at you. Trepidation lingers in the depths of the gray irises that stare back into yours. “And if it is a path I wish to tread upon?” You whisper. “Let it be my choice.”

Elrond shudders as your fingers trail upward to tangle in his hair again, and he finds himself unable to breathe as you slowly shift your positions so you can settle yourself into his lap. It's a bold move considering you have done little else outside of resting your head on his shoulder and holding his arm as you venture Lindon's gardens. You're quietly praying that you have not overstepped a boundary.

Elrond doesn’t push you away. He welcomes it. He welcomes you.

He tries to focus on the sights around him to avoid the fear of disappointing you lingering in the back of his mind. You are a sight to behold among Lindon’s gardens. Despite the wonders of the sights around him, none of the flora and fauna that have grown here over the centuries are comparable to you.

“Hey,” You call softly. “Where did you go, nin mel?”

Elrond is not usually one to fumble over his words, but they roll off his tongue before he can stop his rambling, “I do not want to bring any disappointment if I am not what you wish me to be.”

You’d be lying if you said the statement didn’t make you melt. He was so earnest and sweet when it came to ensuring he lived up to what other people wanted but so often gave himself such little credit. “Elrond,” You began, taking his hands into your own to press them against your waist. “I have wanted you for so long. You could never disappoint me, meleth nin.”

You bend your head to the juncture where his jaw meets his neck and place a kiss thereupon. As you anticipate, Elrond groans low in his throat and grasps you more tightly. “Please,” He breathes, breath hot against your ear as you drum your fingers against his neck. “Please touch me.”

It was the closest to a declaration you were going to get at that moment. He wants you to be near to him, to touch him, to be witness to the rawest and most vulnerable parts that he so often hid from everyone else. He had to hide. Who would want to see the human side of the Half-Elven Herald of the King?

You tilt your head and gently graze your fingertips over his ears as he bends his own head to meet your mouth halfway. It's cataclysmic. You've been dreaming about this moment since the first time he asked you to play for him at the very end of one of Gil-Galad's feasts with the other elves who dwelt in Lindon.

Elrond shudders as you come together and lifts a hand to touch your jaw just beneath your own ear.

The action alone causes you to gasp just enough for him to take the opportunity to kiss you more deeply, licking into your mouth with a low groan as you wind your fingers through his hair.

"Elrond," You breathe. The two of you pull away just enough to feel the warm breath of the other on your skin, your fingers twirling circles against his temples as he worked at undoing the braids that hung over your shoulders. You want more of him. You want to bury yourself in his heart and never let anyone hurt him again. "That was-"

"I would very much like to do it again. And again, and again, until you are rendered breathless," Elrond whispers, reaching to the side to pluck a lily from the flower bed before tucking it behind your ear. There is hope lingering on the edge of his tone as he looks at you. A hidden promise for something that you both can chase, not a futile dream he has to chase alone. "But only after I hear you play."

You stand to your feet and motion for the violin case beside him. "One on condition," You reply as you tuck your chin into the base of the instrument and poise your bow against its strings. "There must be more kisses at the end of this song."

You swallow the knot in your throat as the melody begins to echo in the gardens, allowing Elrond the opportunity to lean back on his elbows and peer up at you from his spot on the blanket. "I believe that can be arranged. Is there anything else?" He asks innocently. You raise a brow and pause as his shirt shifts to reveal the skin beneath. Warm, tanned skin that you wanted to... "You're staring. You're going to mess up your song."

"You are distracting me." You retort. "I do have one more condition."

There are several beats of silence between you two as Elrond goes quietly, enraptured by the melody that seems to encompass your entire being as if it comes from the very heart of you. You are the very essence of what makes music beautiful.

When your final note decrescendos into the serenity of the garden's life around you is when you open your eyes to look at Elrond once again.

"What's that final condition?" Elrond asks.

"A date, Elrond Peredhel." You muse, leaning down to return your violin to its case before swooping in to press a kiss to reddened cheeks. "Anywhere and any time. I will leave the rest up to you."

He does not dare move as he watches you walk back towards your rooms. You truly are a marvel, a sight to behold. You are the brightest light that has entered his life since he lost Elros. He would not dare to dim that light.

"Anytime and anywhere," He whispers to himself as he traces his fingers over his cheek. "For all my life-time."

#Elrond is one of my favorite characters from lotr #I love this fic so much #I really really love the storytelling here #Kayla always knocks it out of the park #elrond x reader #rings of power #rings of power fanfiction #elrond peredhel x reader

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ashenthornes · 1 month ago

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Grieving Is Like Suffocating | Elendil

You don't know how to come back up for air.

2/2 on the ROP fan fiction. I can't stop writing for these guys. The ideas just keep pouring.

This is based in S1, Ep 7 and 8. Set when Elendil returns to Númenor. Another female reader. This one is a long time friend of Miriel.

In this fic, Elendil meets Míriel when they're younger as opposed to meeting when they're older in the show.

Enjoy! This got away from me, and I'm not sure how I feel about it. I'd love to know what you guys think!

I'll be writing 2 more for Celebrimbor and 1 for Elrond within the next week or so!

***

It started off with you and a young boy on the shores of Númenor. He was screaming. You were only just learning how to defend yourself during those years, barely an adult and now newly appointed to Miriel's guard, and you found yourself called to the screaming 10 year old by the water.

You quickly realized why as soon as you calmed him down enough to talk. His mother's body was floating face down in the waters of Númenor. He himself was soaked to the bone, so young and so full of fear as he clung to your side.

“I got caught in a riptide. She.. she drowned-“

You held him there, whispering comfort into his ear as you stroked his hair. You later found out his name was Isildur and that his father was Elendil The Tall, someone you’ve known for years but have never actually met.

Elendil spent the entire day looking for Isildur. When he eventually found him, his son was bent over his wife's body, and he was calling out for you.

"Who does that name belong to, son?"

"She found me by the water and helped bring Mother to the shore! She said her name, but she ran away before I could ask her to find you!" Elendil wrapped his hand around Isildur's shoulder as he hid his face in his father's hip, trembling hands clutching the fabric of his trousers. "Mother... Mother's gone...."

Elendil could do nothing but whisper assurances to his little one and wrap him up in his arms to return him home. He dare not let Isildur see his tears fall.

Elendil never learned the face of the one who'd saved his son. See, you'd sworn Isildur to a secret: He had to keep your identity a secret to come back and meet you again. Everyone knew who you were because of your standing with the Queen Regent.

No one knew who you were as a person. No one knew you as the person who saved Isildur and Elendil both.

In the quiet despair of the funeral, someone was singing.

There was a beautifully ornate casket before him with his three children standing idly by on either side of where Elendil knelt before it. Very few people were allowed to the funeral, as he'd wanted it to be a private matter, but the person singing was enough to catch Isildur's attention when they came up behind his father to rest a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Through the shadows falling over Númenor, not one could catch the face belonging to the person standing vigil over his family. Elendil did not care enough to do so. Under most circumstances, he simply would've shrugged off the hand and continued to wallow in his grief.

He was not old enough to be a widower.

"May the spirit of Nienna comfort you, Elendil."

Fingertips tenderly grazed his shoulders before the touch was gone, almost as if it had never been there to begin with.

Elendil never forgot that song or that offer of comfort. Despite years having passed since, he never forgot the sound of that haunting song that brought him some modicum of comfort on the worst day of his life.

Grief was like suffocating. He had always wondered how his wife felt when she sank beneath the waves, desperate to rescue their son before the waters claimed her, and how she'd died with water in her lungs. She'd suffocated.

Elendil understood part of that feeling. He'd been suffocating since he found Isildur on that beach, and it was getting progressively harder to find the will to come back up for air.

He doesn't know how to. Or if he even will.

***

Past

Tar-Míriel was the only daughter of the 24th King of Númenor and one of your dearest friends from your childhood. There had been many nights of complaints, whispered secrets about those in attendance at court, and dreams of lives that people like the two of you could never live.

Fortunately, Tar-Palantír was sharp enough to recognize potential when he saw it. That was what led him to enlist you to be part of Míriel's protection just before you both were to become adults. Your birthday was a mere few weeks away, and you had been asking for your own bow for long enough now for your parents to take notice.

That was what led you to the docks where Númenor's bravest and boldest of the Sea Guard were often found.

"This is quite an interesting place to find respite," Míriel remarked as she took her seat beside you and adjusted the hood of the cloak on her head. "Are you-Is that a bow?"

You tenderly ran your hand down the weapon your father had handed you that morning. "My father gave it to me early. The arrows are handmade as well." Your eyes flickered out across the docks. Elendil The Tall was standing idly beside in deep conversation with a woman you did not recognize. He was one of the most handsome men in Númenor. Every woman knew it. "That up-and-coming Sea Guard. There's just.. something about him."

"Can't be focusing on unattainable futures when you know where your future lies."

You took Míriel's words to heart. They would change later, of course, but you knew why she said them. Despite your curiosity about Elendil, you opted to look from a distance and to never approach him yourself. It was better that way. When you were dedicating yourself to the safety of the future Queen of Númenor, there was no time for idle dreams of romance.

You found yourself meeting Elendil a few months later. With his recent promotion to Captain of the Númenorean Sea Guard, the King had invited him to court to meet the dignitaries and other highly esteemed members of their society who he would frequently interact with.

Both you and Míriel were in attendance that day. Your father, the right hand of Tar-Palantir, took it upon himself to stride up to Elendil and introduce him to the future Queen and the Queen's right hand.

Being in his presence made breathing difficult. If you thought he was handsome from afar, he was a true sight to behold up close.

"It's my pleasure to make your acquaintance, Captain," You greeted, bowing low to the ground while Elendil reached out to take your hand and place a kiss thereupon. You barely noted the sudden look of astonishment on his face before he turned to do the same to Míriel. "As I am sure you will do Númenor proud."

Elendil would have been lying if he said he didn't find himself drawn to you. Of all the people he knew in Númenor, most of them were fairly easy to read. He was able to tell what kind of person he would be meeting simply by watching them - How they carried themselves and their interactions with others, their body language and facial expressions and intonations in conversation.

You, however, were the first person he met that he could not do that with. You were closed off. Guarded.

And why did you seem so familiar?

"Your kind words speak volumes, my Lady," Elendil returned. "Tell me... Have we met before?"

You tried not to think about the countless dreams you'd had about Elendil since you'd secretly started spending time down at the docks. About how Isildur often came seeking you out at the beaches - because his son was clever and knew you would always return to the site of where you first met - and about how you often intervened with the sailors of Númenor who dared to wish him harm.

"Maybe in another life," You remarked. "If you'll excuse me."

For the next several years after that, Míriel desperately tried to convince you that you should further pursue Elendil. She noted his approach to you during the party and every time after that as one of curiosity and interest. You denied her. Why would he be interested in you?

***

Ironically enough, it is not long before the soldiers of Númenor and the Sea Guard are set to depart with their Queen Regent for Middle-Earth that Isildur finds you again. You were one of the few people present who accepted the elf's presence in Númenor. Many did not, especially with the rising acceptance of Ar-Pharazôn as their desired King.

This time, however, he is with Ontamo and Valandil.

"There you are! I was wondering if you would be down here. Why are you not preparing to depart with the Queen?"

"Keep your voice down, Isildur." You whisper, dragging the younger man behind the cluster of boulders you often sought refuge in when you were down here. It was only the nature of your hiding spot and your disguise that kept most of the people here from recognizing you. "Míriel wishes for me to stay here. Besides, you know as well as I do that your father is enough protection for her. As are you."

You had been one of the few people in his life to offer Isildur the necessary encouragement and affirmation he needed to maintain his confidence as he grew. When he felt as if he could not disclose such struggles to his father, he often came and found you.

"My father speaks very highly of you, you know. The you that he actually knows. Seems like I'm the only person in Númenor besides the Queen-Regent who truly knows you. Doesn't that ever bother you?" He asks.

"It used to." You shrug. "I am duty bound to the Queen of Númenor. Even if I were to tell you how I truly felt about your father-"

"Wait," Despite well knowing they're both there, instinct finds you knocking an arrow and aiming it directly at Valandil as he and Ontamo approach. "Is this the woman from the Queen Regent's court that your father has spoken about?"

Isildur's eyes slowly slide to your face. Valandil was one of the few people in his personal life who was close to his father besides him and his siblings. He knew who you were by your identity in Míriel's court. He did not know you as Isildur did. As a comforter, a warrior, and a friend.

"As I said, my father speaks highly of you. You should see him before he departs for Middle Earth." Isildur motions between himself, Valandil and Ontamo as the three begin to back away from your spot. "We are going with him. I'll see you when I get back!"

You give a half-hearted salute in return. Over the years, you've greatly come to love Isildur. He's been under the shadow of your protection almost his entire life.

"Make sure you come back." You call. "You hear me? No noble deaths out there, not for any of you!"

You contemplate Isildur's request as you venture back to the castle, hidden beneath the sanctuary of your hood. He seems to know something you don't. If you were to be truthful with yourself, it was nice to be aware of a man like Elendil desiring you. Wanting you near.

That thought combined with years of Míriel's desperate pleas is what leads you to the docks. Elendil's ship stands tall and fair against the waters, a trademark of the people who sail upon her and the captain who commands her.

Once you are within earshot, you clear your throat and dust off your clothes as you approach the gangplank.

"Captain?" You call.

Elendil's aspect softens at the sound of your voice. Part of him had quietly hoped you would be here. "Afternoon, My Lady. The Queen told me you would not be joining us." He remarks, turning to face you fully. You find your eyes drawn to his own. They're so blue. "I assume it is because you are needed for another reason here."

The unspoken words of, "Keeping an eye on Pharazôn." do not go unnoticed by you. He's closer to Míriel than you originally realized.

"That's true. That's why I'm coming to you to ensure that you as her Captain will do your duty in protecting our Queen," You tease. "And protecting yourself. We need you to come home."

Daring to be brave, you reach into your pocket and produce a recently made handkerchief with your initials embroidered on the bottom of it. You reach outward and take Elendil's hand into your own so you can wrap his fingers around it.

A stuttering breath flutters in his chest. It's the first time he's felt like his lungs work properly in years, having this token of your affection tucked into his palm.

The words spill from his lips before rationale can take over. "I will return to you. I promise." Elendil lays something of his own between your fingers: A chain containing a token belonging to the Captain of Sea Guard. You tuck your hand just out of sight before anyone can catch it.

You don't think you've ever longed for anyone more.

"Namárië." You whisper.

The chain hangs heavy around your neck.

Present

Here Elendil is on the second worst day of his life, and he is still thinking of that song. Of that offered comfort from someone who may as well be a ghost.

Part of him finds himself wishing for the gentleness of your presence beside him.

"Where is my son?"

No one could tell him where Isildur was. His eldest had fought hard to earn his right to be on this trip to Middle-Earth. Isildur had fought for him and had saved his life when they'd encountered those orcs. According to Miriel, he was the only reason she was still alive.

Isildur and his body are nowhere to be found.

When he's standing on the cliffside with Míriel and Galadriel, it all comes rushing back to him: The way his son had clung to him during that hug after his first battle against the orcs, the curve of his daughter's smile, the warmth of your hands and the gentleness of your touch as you wrapped his fingers around your handkerchief before he'd left.

"You're quiet today." Míriel remarks. The Queen Regent stopped beside him and laid a shaky hand on his shoulder. He knew she was having difficulty adjusting to life without her sight.

"Not much to say."

Elendil and Míriel were closely acquainted. She trusted him implicitly. He was loyal to her through his duty to the Queen of Númenor and to her as a woman. She knew him, and she knew you, which is why she already knew the answer to her next question.

"What are you thinking of?" She asked softly.

Elendil ran his fingertips over the top of the handkerchief.

"Home."

***

It is hard to hide how distraught he really is when Míriel dismisses him upon their return to Númenor. She utters quiet thanks for Isildur's involvement in saving her life and allows him to depart for home before he can argue. He's grateful for it. It's impossible to breathe while in the palace.

Where is my son? My son, my boy...

His heart aches to seek you out instead of going home. Going home is simply another reminder of Isildur. That is not what he wants.

It is mere luck that he finds you in the courtyard training with another archer in front of a row of targets. Elendil's form shifts in the corner of your eye, and you thank your companion for the training time together before slipping your bow over your shoulder.

The breath is knocked from your lungs once the two of you lock eyes. He is wrecked.

"Oh, Elendil." You murmur. Your hand is moving of its own accord before you can stop yourself, and part of you is expecting him to flinch when your fingertips just barely touch his cheek. He leans into the warmth with all the fervor of a man starved and presses his hand against your own. Yours dwarfs his in comparison. Everything about him is so mighty in comparison to you. You're so small... and yet he makes you feel so safe. "Come on. I know a place."

The place in question is a private part of the beach that few ever dare to wander for fear of reprimanding from the Crown. It is usually only used in circumstances for private gatherings or weddings. You toe off your boots upon approach, removing your quiver and bow before extending your hands to him.

You can tell he doesn't wish to talk about it. Part of you is curious about the whereabouts of Isildur, as he is not with his father, and a deeper part of you dreads that the reason for this anguish is because Isildur did not make it home.

"I do not understand what it is that draws me to you," Elendil's confession is quiet, barely perceptible through the crash of waves against the shoreline just feet to your right. "Perhaps it is your gentleness and devotion to that which you care for." Elendil pauses to glance down at your hands, both still extended as he links them with his own to press them against his chest. The action has you blushing as you gaze up at him. "I know how much you love my son. I have seen it. That is why I wish to tell you-"

Dread curls in your belly as he rapidly blinks away tears and turns his head to the coming sunset just over Númenor's ocean.

You have so many questions. You don't ask a single one. The only thing you can do is hum a familiar tune that has always brought you comfort and stand on your tiptoes to envelop him in an embrace.

Everything comes to a screeching halt once he hears the song. It takes him back to the darkest time of his life, weary and drowning in his anguish in front of the casket of his wife. Of the comfort of a stranger.

"All this time, all these years," He moves you away just enough to gaze into your face, and you know then that he's figured you out. You are the angel who stood vigil. You are the one who has been secretly protecting his son. "It was you."

You nod. You fear that this will force the two of you apart, driven away by secrets and deceit. You face two roads now. Will he let you in, or will he force you out?

Your eyes meet Elendil's with all the confidence of a soldier ready to face a horde of the enemy alone. You will not falter no matter what choice Elendil may make.

"Me."

part two?

#oooo #this was a nice read #elendil x reader #rings of power fanfiction #have I watched rings of power yet? no #am I still in love with this fic? yes

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