#Adar is always hot

[ringsofpowerconfessions]

"This is perhaps an unpopular opinion, but I'm getting tired of this Elrond!Sauron theory. I'm all for discussions and headcanons, but it irks me how fans are quick to demolish Elrond's personhood only to have Sauron kiss Galadriel. Elrond is as kind as summer, but summer can be scorching hot, and we saw that on the battlefield. His family always opposed Morgoth and Sauron. He has that fire in him. Also, Sauron disguising himself as Lúthien's descendant, living reminder of his past humiliating defeat? Would he really do that? I can see Sauron going to taunt Galadriel in Adar's camp as himself, not as Elrond. He was so confident during the siege that he left Celebrimbor unsupervised."

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Astray far Away Ch4

Adar x reader | SMUT🔞 | Ch.3 Ch.5

Sexy bath times and rowdy kids! An eventful day for our Lord Father and his companion.

AKA the chapter took on a will of its own and accepted a sidequest or two instead of moving on.

Morning came way too quick.

And so did the frantic knocking on your door that had you groaning in frustration. 

“Just come in, I’m decent.” 

It was Grasho, shouldering her way through the door with two bowls of food and a stack of clothes hung over her shoulder. 

“Morning! Got food and simple dresses.” She was quick to place the food on a table and toss the clothes onto the bed where you sat. 

“Food or cloth first?” The question was asked but waiting for an answer was not in the cards as Grasho already reached for the new garments she brought.

“Please, food first. I need a second to wake up before I get up and be active.” You mimicked her energy, making grabby hands at the bowls from where you sat on the mattress. “I am seriously starving, thanks.” With the bowl in your hands you happily ate in silence, chowing down the broth even faster than Grasho finished hers. 

“Woah. You eat good for a mortal!” With a satisfied noise she put her empty bowl away and was up on her feet. “Now we fit! Got lots to do today.” Grasho rubbed her hands together so she wouldn’t be immediately grabbing at your clothes again. Boundaries. She learned. 

You worked through the pile dhe brought easily, no longer feeling that nagging panic with having to undress in front of her. She paid your bare chest no attention and kindly turned away when you changed your trousers for proper undergarments. 

All the items Grasho brought you fit perfectly and soon enough she almost shoved you out the door with the order to go find Adar. “You go see Lord Father. Still need a bath. And wound checks.”

You barely got a chance to grab Adar’s tunic before you were out the door and on your way to his tent, wishing Grasho a good day as she went back to her workshop.

Finding Adar’s tent was easy enough and luckily you found him as well.

“Adar? Do you have time?” You approached him with care and kept a safe distance so as to not intrude.

“I hear you almost fought last night. Krod defended you after you spoke kindly of the uruk.” He leaned back in his chair and watched you. 

“I’m sorry if I caused any disturbance, I tried my hardest to ignore them but..” The event was still clear in your mind and gnawing at you. With a quiet sniffle you looked at the ground. “The names they called me. The things they implied I did, I snapped. I’m sorry..” You were clutching the black tunic to your chest as you tried your hardest not to cry like a weakling in front of your leader. 

“From what I heard they called you a harlot, yes? Implying you spent time with Glûg’s family for pleasure.” He looked you over once, twice. You wore new garments like he suggested. The tunic he gave you wrapped tightly in your arms.

“You are always allowed to cause a scene. My children see you as an equal. A part of the family.” Adar had gotten up and grabbed his sword and dagger, along with a bag he stuffed with supplies. “You came by to ask about that bath, yes?”

You let Adar lead the way through and out of the town, further towards the mountain and into a tree-littered area. It was all just as gray and ashen as your village, burned trees and all. And, steam? Fog?

Then, it all came into view behind the trees. Adar had taken you to a hot spring. 

“Mortals prefer privacy when bathing. I did not get that wrong, did I?” Near the rocks beside the spring Adar placed down his bag and unpacked the supplies he brought. He gave you time and space to do what you needed, not looking as you undressed and only turning back once you cleared him to do so. 

“You can look, it’s okay.” Your gentle voice had him turn to face the water and sit down at the edge of it, taking off his boots and rolling up the legs of his trousers. 

As his legs lowered into the water Adar let out a groan, the heat of the water relieving some of his aches. 

“You’re welcome to join me fully, if you’d like. I don't mind.” You moved closer to him, raising yourself partially out of the water and fidgeted with the bandages to get them off now that they had soaked for a moment.

“Let me assist you with that.” Adar beckoned you over when you couldn’t find the start of the wrapping. With careful hands he unwrapped it, layer by layer and rinsed the remains of the dried medicine. 

The cuts had all closed up, only a few scabs remaining over risen pink lines that spelled out his name. His touch lingered and your hand found his, taking it off your skin and placing it back on your chest. 

“I invited you in for more than just to let the water soothe your aches.” When he withdrew his hand you let yourself sink further into the water again. 

Adar was clearly affected by your actions. It showed in his restless movements and how he cleared his throat as he adjusted each and every part of his armor. 

With a quick dive you wet your hair and moved over to Adar’s legs, coming back up only an inch away from him with your hands on his knees, pushing them apart. 

“You’ve been taking care of me since I got here. At least let me return the favor.” You eyed the strain in his trousers for a moment before looking up and you could see him contemplating, and then nod.

Excited, you went to work and fumbled to open Adar’s trousers to pull him free, wrapping one hand around his length to pump him a few times before moving forward, wetting the fabric around his legs with your body.

As your tongue laps at the head of his cock Adar sighed and leaned back on his hands, watching as you worked him. Adar’s soft moans and gentle slosh of the water was all you heard with every inch you took him deeper into your mouth. 

His taste was salty on your tongue, leaking with each pull of your lips. It was with great difficulty that you managed to take all of him into your mouth, the tip at the back of your throat causing you to gag. 

Adar was holding back his sounds, trying to keep himself from bucking his hips into you, fingers digging into the layer of ash on the stones beneath him.

He watched as drool and tears ran down your face as you eagerly sucked him off, a hand coming to rest on your cheek. 

“You know there is no need for you to do th– ahh, oh, don’t stop..” Adar’s voice cracked as your hand cupped his balls and your tongue swirled around the head of his cock, your other hand working what didn’t fit comfortably in your mouth.

Adar’s earlier soft sighs turned into full moans, unable to keep his hips still when he spilled his seed down your throat.

Only when he let go of your cheek you separated from him with a cough, having swallowed all that he gave you.

“Go wash up, I’d like to have you returned home before dark.” Adar worked to tuck himself back into his trousers and retrieved a towel for you while you washed yourself, shivering immediately from the cold air as you got out of the water. 

As you stood by him, drying your hair, bare for the world to see, Adar glanced over your body. His gaze lingered and his mind replayed the words you had spoken to him.

Please.." You pulled him in closer with your heels pressed into his back, moaning as his cock hit just right inside you. "Make me a mother." 

Adar’s eyes were on your stomach and he wondered. Had his seed taken root yet, or was he to try again? Would you even still want to, now that your mind wasn’t partially hazed by alcohol? 

The walk home was a quiet one. Partially to Adar’s wandering mind, as well as you keeping yourself busy with sightseeing. The dull light scattered by the damaged trees gave an eerie air to the surrounding woods, but you could not keep your eyes off it. It reminded you of graphite drawings back home. 

Home. 

You had been so focused on the uruk and settling within their community you hadn’t even given a thought to finding if your old home was still intact. It probably wasn’t, if you took into consideration that most of the structure was wood, not even close to being as sturdy as the tavern that still partially stood despite the flaming rocks.

“Say, Adar.” You fell into step with him once more and saw you had his attention. 

“Can we eh.. Can you help me find a place in town? I want to see what’s left of it.” 

With an affirming nod Adar hummed in agreement. 

“Where exactly was the building you seek? There is a chance it was torn down for resources.” Adar thought out loud in hope to lessen your hurt if you found the place to be gone. 

You looked around and were sad to say you had no idea where in the old village you stood now with the addition of so many smaller tent homes around and other structures down and broken. 

The tavern that served as your current residence was used as a starting point, looking into the direction your old home stood and started wandering. 

Through the homes and workshops young uruk played. Two boys with toy swords ran and yelled in passing. Visions of the once green grass and sandy paths appeared before you as you followed your feet towards where you’d find your old home.

Your home, that was now nothing more than a lot filled with salvaged wood and stone, sorted and piled.

It hurt to see your home no longer stood, even if it was never much in the first place. 

Your grief was short lived, as high pitched yelling pulled you from your thoughts and a weight suddenly slammed into your leg. A young child had clamped herself around your lower leg, trembling. Behind you more yelling sounded and you picked up the scared child and let her wrap herself around you, sharp nails digging into your skin.

“Oh crap, it's Adar. Run!” The two boys you saw earlier dropped their toys and ran off in the opposite direction, away from you and Adar who stayed at your side. 

“Are you alright, little one? The boys are gone.” You stroked her coarse hair that sat in a lopsided ponytail tied with a clearly recently found, shiny ribbon.

Big, sad eyes looked up at you, tiny hands still grabbing your top as she nodded. 

“Yes, lady.” She looked away from you when Adar stepped closer again after retrieving the toy swords the boys had dropped, and quickly shied away once more. Her face was hidden in the crook of your neck. “This is Myko,” Adar’s gentle voice spoke beside you, his hand coming up to rest on her back. “She loves spending time with the wargs. Wants to be a warg rider when she’s big enough.” 

At the mention of her interest she peeked up once more, a glimmer in her eyes that had you play into it. 

“Oh, you should show me one day! I would love to learn about the wargs.” You gently put the young girl back on her feet, letting her run off after she excitedly agreed to show you the wargs.

Turning back to Adar you noticed the toy swords in his hands. “It sounded like those two have given other kids trouble before with how fast they ran from you.” There was amusement in your tone, and in Adar’s as well. 

“They are twin boys who have taken it upon themselves to cause havoc wherever they go, yes.” Adar sighed, an air of sadness clear in his eyes. “Their mother has a hard time keeping them in control.” 

“Twins, huh.” You mimicked. “They didn’t look alike, from what I saw.” You stepped back into the town streets aside Adar, thinking back at the two boys. “I have to be honest here, though. I don’t think I’ve ever seen twins before in my lifetime.” 

Now it was Adar who chuckled, a sound that caught you so off guard you nearly missed the hole in the ground and tripped. “You will have to get used to seeing doubles, then. Twins are common among uruk.” He made a sudden turn towards a home and handed the two wooden swords back to a woman walking with a crutch. She missed her left lower leg but moved around with practiced skill. She and Adar exchanged quick words before he moved on once more. 

“You’ll find most twins to be different at first with their differences in skin, but on closer look you will find there to be many similarities. Eyes, ear shape and other features match their counterparts. Next time Lech and Kach decide to grace you with their presence, take the time to have a good look.” the conversation kept up until your paths split on your way to each of your homes. Adar had business to attend as the Lord Father of his people, and you desperately needed rest.

[criticallyinneedofadar]

Alliance of Shadows (8)

A/N: Come on now. You know I could never harm my hubby.

Pairing: Adar x Reader

Warnings: Violence, wounds, reader gets injured.

Word Count: 2.5k

Taglist: @zoya-olenko @annatartastic @oakenshielq @perse-cora @passionofthesith @eowyn7023

Previous- Next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Without thinking, you move.

Your body surges forward, driven by instinct rather than reason, and before you know it, you are between Adar and the treacherous Uruk. The world seems to freeze in that moment, the chaos of the battlefield dimming as the sharp, cold steel of Glûg’s blade bites deep into your side. Agony flares through your body, every nerve screaming in pain. A gasp tears from your throat, the sound lost in the cacophony around you, and you stumble, your hand flying to the wound as warm blood spills over your fingers.

Adar spins, eyes wide, his usual composed expression crumbling into shock. You see the disbelief in his gaze, the fury flickering just beneath the surface, but before you can fully register it, his arms are around you, catching you just before you collapse to the ground. His hands grip you tightly, pulling you close as he lowers you gently, the cool earth meeting your back. He presses his hand against your side, desperate to stem the flow of blood, but you can feel it—hot, thick, and unrelenting.

“You fool,” Adar growls, though his voice is thick with emotion, far deeper than anger. His hands, always steady, tremble ever so slightly as they press against your wound, trying to keep you tethered to life. “Why would you do that? Why?”

Your vision blurs, the edges of the world fading in and out as pain clouds your senses. You want to respond, to tell him that you didn’t think, that protecting him was the only thing that mattered in that moment, but the words die in your throat, smothered by the agony coursing through your veins.

Before either of you can speak, Sauron’s voice cuts through the moment like a dagger, his tone dripping with malice. “Your children no longer need you as their father, Adar,” he sneers, his dark gaze shifting to Glûg and the small group of Uruks who had broken away from the main force. They stand behind him now, weapons in hand, their loyalty clearly pledged to Sauron.

Glûg sneers, his eyes filled with something colder than hatred—something akin to betrayal. “We are no longer slaves to your cause, Father. Sauron will provide what you cannot.”

The words sting, sharper than any blade. You lie cradled in Adar’s arms, your vision swimming with pain, but the bitter taste of betrayal rises in your throat. These Uruks… You had fought for them, bled for them. You had defended them time and time again, and yet, here they stood—turning their backs on the one who had given them purpose, who had fought for their very right to exist.

Adar’s grip tightens on you, his body tensing as he stares down Glûg, the rage simmering in his dark eyes. “Traitors,” he spits, his voice low and venomous. “Sauron will use you as bodies to build his throne. Nothing more.”

Glûg’s sneer only deepens, and for a brief moment, the battlefield stills around you, the tension thick as the air itself seems to hold its breath. The Uruks behind Glûg shift, their eyes flickering with doubt, but their weapons remain drawn, ready to strike.

And then, before either you or Adar can react, a new presence cuts through the fray. Galadriel.

Her figure appears, seemingly out of nowhere, her silver armor catching the dim light of the battlefield. Her eyes burn with righteous fury, a silent storm brewing behind them. She does not look at you or Adar—her focus is solely on Sauron. With a fluid, effortless motion, she draws her sword, the blade gleaming in the low light as she steps forward.

For a moment, Sauron’s attention shifts to her, his dark gaze narrowing as the air around them thickens with power. Without a word, Galadriel charges, her sword slicing through the night with lethal precision, aimed directly at Sauron. The clash between them is immediate and fierce, their weapons meeting with a force that seems to shake the very ground beneath your feet. The battlefield trembles with the impact of their fight, a collision of light and shadow, of righteous fury and dark malice.

As they battle, the world around you seems to shift, the air growing thick with tension. You struggle to stay conscious, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you clutch Adar’s arm. His face is a storm of emotion—rage, fear, and something deeper, something rawer. He presses harder against your wound, his hands slick with your blood, and his gaze shifts between you and the scene unfolding before him.

“Stay with me,” Adar murmurs, his voice soft but firm, cutting through the haze of pain clouding your mind. 

But even as he speaks, you feel the darkness closing in around you, pulling you under. Your body grows heavy, the pain dulling to a distant throb as your vision narrows. The sounds of the battlefield fade into the background, the world around you reduced to the steady beat of Adar’s heart against your side.

Galadriel and Sauron continue to clash, their battle a blinding display of power, but you can no longer focus on it. Your world has shrunk to the feel of Adar’s arms around you, the warmth of his breath against your skin, the quiet, desperate plea in his voice as he fights to keep you grounded.

“Adar…” you murmur, your voice barely a whisper.

He shifts, his movements quick and precise as he scoops you into his arms, his grip tightening. “I won’t lose you,” he says, his voice thick with desperation. “I won’t.”

As the battle continues to rage around him, Adar fights his way through the chaos. His blade cuts through the enemy with a ferocity you have never seen before, and a small group of his closest Uruks rally around him, forming a protective barrier. Every movement is calculated, every step taken with the singular goal of getting you to safety.

But the pain is overwhelming now, your body weak and trembling in his arms. You try to focus, to stay conscious, but the pull of darkness is too strong. The last thing you remember before the world goes black is the sensation of Adar’s arms tightening around you, his voice a distant echo in your fading mind.

When you wake, the world is still.

Your body aches, your side throbbing with the memory of Glug’s betrayal, but you are alive. The soft crackle of a fire nearby fills the silence, and as your eyes adjust to the dim light, you realize you are no longer on the battlefield.

You are in a tent—Adar’s tent. The scent of blood and smoke lingers in the air, but the worst of the battle’s noise has faded. Your body is wrapped in bandages, the wound from Glug’s attack having been carefully tended to.

Slowly, you sit up, the movement causing a sharp pain to shoot through your side. You wince, clutching at the bandage as you try to get your bearings.

“You’re awake.”

Adar’s voice is soft, and when you turn, you see him standing at the entrance of the tent, his armor smeared with blood and dirt, his face hardened by the weight of the day’s events. But there is something else there too—relief. He has been worried about you. The thought causes your heart to flutter.

“How long...?” you begin, your voice hoarse.

“A few hours,” he replies, crossing the space between you. He kneels beside you, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You should not have thrown yourself into that blade. You should have let me handle it.”

You meet his gaze, your own filled with defiance despite your weakened state. “And let him kill you?”

“I would have survived,” he says, though his voice falters slightly, betraying the truth beneath his words. He had not expected Glûg’s betrayal, nor had he expected you to take the blow meant for him.

Silence lingers between you, thick with unspoken emotions. His hand, rough from battle, cups your cheek as he studies your face, as though ensuring you’re truly there, alive and breathing. You see the conflict in his eyes—relief, fear, and something deeper, more fragile. His thumb traces the line of your jaw, a touch so tender it almost undoes you.

Without thinking, you reach up, your fingers curling around the edge of his armor, pulling him closer. He doesn’t resist, his breath hitching as you lean in. His lips find yours in a kiss filled with emotions. The tension, the fear, the relief—it all melts away as your mouths meet, his hand sliding to the back of your neck, holding you gently as if you might slip away from him again.

The kiss is soft at first, tentative, but soon deepens, the weight of everything that has passed between you—life, death, betrayal—pouring into it. You can feel his heart pounding against your chest as he pulls you closer, his relief palpable in every touch. You feel it too, the reassurance of his warmth, of knowing he’s here, that you are both still standing in a world that seems determined to tear you apart. You grip his shoulder pulling him tighter to you. A rough groan escapes him as his hands tangle in your hair. 

Stretching closer to him, you wince, when the movement pulls on the wound on your side. You pull back, breathless, and his forehead rests against yours. His voice is a whisper, hoarse from everything left unsaid. “I thought I lost you.”

“You didn’t,” you murmur, your fingers brushing the side of his face. “I’m still here. With you.” For a moment, you just hold each other, the world outside the tent fading into the background. In that small, quiet space, it’s just the two of you—wounded but alive.

The memory of Glûg’s treachery hits you like a wave. “He joined Sauron,” you say bitterly. “Some of them did.”

Adar’s expression darkens. “Yes. Sauron’s poison runs deep. I had thought to save them from him and only succeeded in pushing them into his arms.”

You can hear the weight of his anger, the hurt that simmers beneath the surface. You reach out, your hand resting against his arm. “Not all of them betrayed you,” you remind him. “You still have loyal children.”

He nods, though his gaze remains distant, as if he were lost in thought.

“I should have protected you better,” he says after a moment, his voice soft. “But instead, you protected me. Again.”

A small smile tugs at your lips despite the pain. “I don’t regret it. I am not some damsel in need of rescue Adar.”

His eyes meet yours, something unspoken passing between you. The weight of the kiss you had shared before lingers in the air, the tension between you still palpable.

Adar reaches out, his fingers brushing gently against your cheek, and for a moment, you think he might kiss you again. But instead, he pulls back, his expression conflicted.

“We will have our reckoning with Sauron,” he says, his voice hardening. “But for now, you need to rest.”

You nod, though your mind is already turning toward the battle still to come. 

Just as the silence between you and Adar settles, the tent’s entrance flares open, and Maela strides in, her expression grim and urgent. She bows her head briefly to Adar before her eyes settle on you.

“Apologies for the interruption, my Queen,” she says, her voice taut. “There is news from the battlefield.”

The tension in the air thickens. You struggle to sit up straighter despite the pain still gnawing at your side. Adar is there in an instant, supporting your arm and shoulder and helping you settle against the bed behind you. His gaze flicks between you and Maela, his face unreadable but alert.

“Speak,” you command, your voice steady even though your body protests.

Maela’s eyes flicker with something—grief or regret, you aren’t sure—as she begins. “Eregion has fallen. Our forces overwhelmed the last of the elven defenses. Celebrimbor…” She pauses, as if weighing the weight of the words. “Celebrimbor is dead, slain by Sauron himself.”

The words hit like a blow, and though you have no particular love for the Elven smith, the significance of his death can not be denied. Adar’s jaw tightens, though his reaction remains controlled.

“And Galadriel?” you ask, your voice low.

Maela hesitates. “She fell from a cliff during the battle. We do not know where she is, or if she even survived. Some say they saw her fall into the river, but there has been no sign of her body.”

A knot forms in your stomach. Galadriel, for all her arrogance, is a formidable force. If she is dead, it would have been clear by now. If she is alive, her vengeance will be swift.

“And the losses?” Adar asks, his voice hard but quiet.

Maela’s face darkens further. “We lost many, both Uruk and mages. However, the elves suffered greater casualties. The Uruks and our forces have integrated well… better than expected. But the weight of the battle has been heavy on all.”

You glance at Adar, noting the tension in his shoulders. The fight had been brutal, and though the combined forces have survived, the war is far from over.

“Elrond,” Maela continues, “he and a small group of elves wait nearby. They wish to discuss terms to cease the fighting, though their numbers are few.”

A brief silence falls over the tent, the weight of the news settling on your shoulders. Eregion has fallen, but the battle is far from over. Sauron is still out there, as are his new loyalists—Uruk, like Glûg, who betrayed everything Adar stands for- and you by association.

“What terms?” you ask, your voice sharp, cutting through the tension. “They come seeking mercy when they are the ones who brought this war to our doorstep.”

“Perhaps they realize they have no other choice,” Adar mutters, his eyes dark and reflective. He turns to you, his expression unreadable. “Elrond knows what’s at stake.”

You think of the Elven Lord waiting nearby. Elrond has been a voice of reason to many in the storm, but reason has not saved Eregion.

“I will hear them,” you say finally, though your tone is edged with steel. “But no mercy will be offered unless it is earned.”

Maela bows her head. “As you wish, my Queen.” She hesitates before adding, “Shall I have them escorted to the tent, or would you prefer to meet elsewhere?”

You exchange a look with Adar. The decision weighs heavily on both of you, but there is little choice. The elves have come to bargain, and you will make sure they understand the cost.

“We will meet them here,” you reply, your voice firm. “Let them see what their arrogance has wrought.”

As Maela turns to leave, you catch the sense of unease in Adar’s eyes. He remains silent, his thoughts unreadable, but you can sense the conflict beneath his exterior. You both understand what it means to truly be at war—with the elves, with Sauron, and perhaps even with yourselves. It is a heavy burden to bear.

[suzannahnatters]

Wellp. The Rings of Power season 2 ep 8 has come. There are many eulogies to deliver in the coming days (and trust me I will) but for now, there is a certain someone who requires a proper sendoff. SPOILERS BELOW

They fulfilled my one true wish: we got to see Fair Form Adar (and my goodness he did not disappoint). And then they exploded my insane crack theory, sunk my ship, and killed him off. Oh well. At the same time, I'm so grateful for what we got. Adar wasn't Celeborn, but they didn't try to make him some other Big Name from the Sil that only 0.04% of the audience would recognise. It was a bit rushed, but the entire episode was sadly rushed and I felt that his sendoff was one of the few moments that did get sufficient screentime. He didn't get the redemption arc I was trying to manifest through sheer willpower, but the way he died fit the story while also extending a moment of grace and hope for the character. This was not Ben Solo in TROS; it was not the Darkling in Shadow and Bone, being gutted as his killer hisses "there is no redemption". And for that, I'll always be grateful. Meanwhile I'm going to spend the next week just staring into the distance, thinking about how the orcs recapture Galadriel and drag her into the presence of their lord, and he's down on his knees giving her his back in a posture of utter vulnerability. I'll be lying on the carpet thinking about how she was the only person he could show his face to. (I may have been wrong on Adarborn but I DID correctly predict that we'd get to see his fair-form). I'll be chewing on broken glass thinking about how when Sauron offered Galadriel a ring and a position healing Middle Earth at his side, she tried to stab him, but when Adar offered Galadriel her ring back and proposed a partnership...she accepted. SHE ACCEPTED. Oh, and? the probability that in all likelihood Sauron saw that happen. (and yep, I also predicted a callback to s1).

*high-pitched fangirl keening*

Anyway, my chums tell me that in the BTS segment for this episode, Adar was originally slated to die much sooner, but Simon Tolkien advocated for the character to be continued. Let's all raise a glass to Simon Tolkien, who is obviously continuing the Lord's work here. And let's admit that even though Galadriel seems to be stuck in the worst possible version of Middle Earth Bachelorette, in which her actual husband is lost and her boyfriends are a hit parade of Middle Earth's Most Wanted (stay tuned for s3, when we all watch in mind-boggled fascination while Galadriel romances Ar-Pharazon!) in hindsight the fact is that this was supposed to be a supporting character who ended up dominating much of the show almost by mistake. I can't imagine how they'll manage to outdo Adar when they bring along Actual Celeborn (unless they cast Dev Patel! I'm sure he's not got anything important scheduled!!!! THE PEOPLE DEMAND A HOT DESI CELEBORN), but if Adar was a mistake, he's a mistake I wish many more shows would make.

In conclusion: yes, I will be writing an Adariel fix fic, filing off the serial numbers, and self-publishing it. It will be titled AUTUMNTHRALL. Stay tuned.

[melithril]

[Adar] Peace

♫ - Muse - Undisclosed Desires

main masterlist | blog playlist

a/n: gets a lil' suggestive towards the end, nothing graphic though! more just sweet :)

For the first time in forever, the world was silent. So silent, in fact, that you could hear the crackle of the bonfire and the laughter outside. With a hot drink in hand, you brought yourself to the window of your home and stared out. Your eyes had fallen upon the festivities, as the uruks sang and danced away, finally free. 

There were no bangs, no screams. 

It had been a long, hard fight and it had taken so many lives in it's wake. Battles both mental and physical had been fought, but for now there was peace, and peace meant happiness. Finally, the children had time to grow in a world that wasn't hateful of them. The clan could have those children and raise them, as well as live each day knowing that they would be alive to see tomorrow.

A new age had begun for everyone.

Smiling to yourself, you sipped at your drink as you watched over the group. Not much for partying, you had left early to come inside, choosing instead the warmth of a blanket to the cold chill sweeping through the village. You had stayed long enough to talk to as many folk as you could, and that had made you content enough to excuse yourself.

As you giggled at the sights before you, two strong arms wrapped themselves around your waist, pulling you back into an embrace. Sighing, you allowed yourself to settle back.

"Adar," you breathed, leaning your head back onto his shoulder. "Why are you not outside with the others? This is a remarkable day, my love."

Adar simply hummed in response. He buried his face into your neck, leaving small kisses there as his body pressed closer to yours. You placed the cup down, mindful not to spill it, and allowed your hand to run through his hair. He held you so gently, yet firmly, and breathed in your scent before replying.

"I came to check that you were okay, starlight."

A smile crept its way onto your face. You loved when he called you that. Spinning in his arms, you faced Adar and took in the sight before you. 

To you, Adar had always been beautiful, but bathed in the glow of the fire and the few candles in the room, he looked ethereal. The long dark locks on his head framed his face, and the shadows contrasted him in all the right ways. You just stared as he smiled down to you.

"I am fine," you replied after a while, realising that you hadn't actually answered him. "I just prefer the comforts of home to the crowds today. I must say, though, I am happy to see them like this."

"As am I, it is something we have fought long and hard for. It is something they deserve."

Your eyes ran over his face. Adar looked tired, but now knowing that there was peace for now, he looked a lot less strained than usual. His face was softer, and the toll that was taken on him had lifted, allowing him a more free range of emotion and some much needed relaxation. 

"And it is something you have given to them, Adar. Security, a home, something to fight for. Now they can rest in the knowledge that it was worth it. You are incredible, my darling."

Adar leaned in and kissed you, as your arms wrapped themselves around his neck, one hand in his locks and the other holding his face. He pulled you tighter to him, as his gauntlet clad hand held your waist as the other landed on your back. The kiss was slow, emotional, and conveyed every pent up emotion between the two of you. Adar pulled away first, leaning his forehead against your own. His voice was a whisper, and his eyes were closed as he spoke. 

"Thank you for sticking by me, by all of us. I could not have done this without you by my side. Even when things were at their hardest, you still never left. My children and I will forever be grateful, and forever be indebted to you."

"Oh, Adar, hush. You all owe me nothing. All I ask from you and your children is to live your lives. That is what this has all been for."

With all the love he had in him, Adar brought you into a hug as you rested against his chest. He placed a kiss atop your head, keeping his face buried into your hair for a moment. You let him hold you, knowing he needed it. Outside, the uruk had begun to sing and play their music again, the festivities growing even more as the night went on. 

Taking your hand in his own, Adar led you a little further from the window to a more open space, and took you again by the waist. He began to sway, smiling down at you. You giggled.

"You know perfectly well that I cannot dance, Adar," you had mused, but he shook his head.

"Let me guide you, my light. You do not need to know how to dance as long as I know how to dance. I can teach you."

He kissed your lips once more before offering his hand to you. Taking it, you began to follow his lead, keeping focused on the music outside. Perhaps a slow dance wasn't the right type of dance for the sound, but you cared not. What mattered was the moment.

Adar had you dancing fairly well, spinning and twirling you now and then, rewarding you with kisses whenever you hadn't fallen or tripped. Eventually, you had gotten the hang of it, and now you found yourself in his arms just swaying. The way this man could make you feel with the simplest of gestures blew your mind. 

"You mean more to me than you could ever know, Ilmarë," Adar whispered against your lips. "I am thankful you will be with me for the rest of the ages to come."

"I will be with you for as long as this world continues to exist."

With that, Adar wasted no time in hooking his arms under your legs, lifting you as if you weighed that of a feather. It shocked you every time, reminding you of just how strong he was under the armour. His lips met yours again as your hands lost themselves in his hair, his kiss feverish and full of passion. 

So lost in your love, you gasped as your back hit the wall and Adar's weight held you in place. Your legs tightened around his waist as he kept you steady, as his lips began a flurry of kisses down your jaw to your collarbone, teeth grazing as he went. Your gasps were not lost on him, and Adar smiled against your skin. He pulled back to look up at you, his eyes boring into you with so much love. 

Breathless, you held his face in your hands, tracing your thumb over his scars. It was a gesture that had often made him jump, but this time he had relaxed right into the palm of your hand.

"As much as I am enjoying this, my love, I think you.. we should get back to the party, no? It's not the right place or time whilst the party is going on. Besides, you do not want someone coming in and wondering where you are, do you?" you chuckled. He could listen to your laugh all day, he thought. 

"I doubt we are the only ones engaging in celebrations of this kind, I assure you," he replied with a wink, and a surprisingly cheeky tone you hadn't heard from him before. Adar let out a laugh of his own as he looked upon you, your face stunned at his insinuation. 

"But, I suppose you are right. It can wait for now."

You pulled him close to you, cradling him gently in your arms as he let you down from the wall slowly, taking your hand in his own. As you gathered yourself, Adar was quick to pick you back up and throw you over his shoulder. 

"Adar!" you exclaimed, only hearing him laugh again. "Hey, put me down! I thought you said.. it could wait!" 

You made a few feeble attempts at escape, the pair of you knowing you were far from serious about it. Adar hadn't replied until you reached your bedroom door, as he pinned you close to it. 

"My starlight, I did say it could wait. I did not say for how long," his tone was dripping with amusement, as his lips found your neck once again. 

"But, you said I.. I was right," you breathed out, practically having forgotten what you were going to say anyway. Instead, you chose to get lost in your lover.

"You were right, yes," Adar mused between kisses. "You were right about it not being the right place. The bedroom is far more practical."

"Adar!"

[greenleaf4stuff]

Of Convenience – Random Bits I

(all other parts of my "Of Convenience" verse) (my other TROP fanfics)

Gen, Of Convenience AU, Gurlak-centric (my female uruk smith OC). Set between chapters 10 and 11 of Of Convenience. (The main fic itself is silverscars focused, but the pairing is only mentioned in this installment.) With Adar and the elves off to fight Sauron in Eregion, and Celebrimbor having 'escaped' from the uruk camp to help - with Gurlak's blessing -, the smith/lieutenant is forced to wait for news from her Lord Father. When good news and a certain Moriondo arrive back in camp, Gurlak greets him with a hug of relief.

Note/Small Warning: There is mention of two characters having injuries, one more so than the other, but nothing too detailed and it is made clear they will both recover well. The injuries are not the focus of this fic and only mentioned in passing.

This was one of the first of my possible ideas/prompts for TROP Cozy Cuddle(s) Week 2025. It's less focused on the hug itself, but I hope it still fits the theme. A big Thank You to @rivendellwatch, as always, for organizing this event, it helped inspire me and pushed me to finally write this piece.

This is also me trying to fulfill some of the ideas/requests from readers for this series; this one works with @janacariad’s request on Of Convenience 10.4: Will we see a reaction from the uruk when all return to the camp?

(Tagging @eowyn7023, @themalhambird, @janacariad, @itwillbeourswansong, @illegalcerebral and @acenby1999 as requested <3)

For those who prefer to read the fic on AO3, here is the link! <3

Gurlak worried.

She'd never admit as much, of course. Would in fact chase off anyone who implied such a thing, probably while wielding a hot fire poker.

Outwardly at least, she was the same stern but ultimately brazen uruk smith as she usually was, who still got scolded as 'impudent' by the Lord Father himself even well into adulthood, but who also ruled her little forge with an iron fist and did not slack off when it came to keeping an eye on Adar’s forces for him, either.

She’d learned that showing concern would lead to doubt, which would lead to confusion, which would lead to weakness. And ultimately, failure. None of which she could afford. Not in this situation. Not with so much at stake.

But in the confines of her own mind, Gurlak allowed herself to worry while she looked over towards the large towers of Eregion. She'd grown up being told stories about him - the Deceiver, an ominous threat whose cruel, evil deeds the elders recounted to the little ones in tales of horror and dread; in order to steel them for what was ahead, and to warn them of the danger Adar had saved them from.

Now, however, all of that had changed. The Deceiver wasn’t dead after all, they were all standing in front of the city that housed him, and Adar and the elves had gone to defeat him once and for all.

She didn’t like this. But she’d let Adar go, because for all her jokes and humorous remarks, she ultimately deferred to him, his judgement and his leadership.

And she’d let the elf, Celebrimbor, go as well, because she herself couldn't.

But that didn’t mean she’d done either of those things lightly.

The time after had been a waiting game. The dreaded sun might wander across the sky with the same pace as it had always done, but to Gurlak, it felt like time had slowed to a crawl.

She’d waited for a long time, restlessly wandering the edges of the camp, instructing the troops to hold their positions, to remain vigilant, to report back to her if anything caught their eye, when the first soldiers returned to the camp.

Only a handful of them, bloody and badly bruised. And among them, a single elf, tiny and slim, with bright blonde hair and wide eyes, who had tried her best to support Glug’s weight, who was limping and slugglishly bleeding from a wound in his side.

Gurlak had urgently shouted for the healers even as she strode forward. Two of her most trusted assistants soldiers grabbed the lieutenant below the arms and hefted him up. Glug hissed, and then groaned, as a healer hurried over and looked over his wounds.

"We need to stop the bleeding," the healer hissed in Black Speech, looking at Gurlak with drawn eyebrows as the smith hesitated.

Haltingly, she turned to Glug, and then let her eyes fall onto the elven girl – or, woman? Gurlak had no idea how old she might be. She looked like a young lass, but it was just as likely that she was older than all of them in this camp.

The smith finally nodded, "Take him to the tent. I’ll handle this," she replied, but spoke Westron instead, so the elf might understand her.

The healer nodded, and motioned for the two soldiers to come along. Glug tried to protest, and had enough strength left to stop them from moving along.

She still remembered him as a young boy. He’d shot up like a weed, but that didn’t mean he was frail as a flower. He was as strong as any other uruk, and used this to dig in his heels and turn to Gurlak.

"We were- attacked. He- in the tower," he coughed. "They are fighting him. The elf came and followed. I don’t know-," and then he tried to catch his breath.

"Go," Gurlak urged, even as Glug’s words were almost enough to make her blood turn red with the strength of her fright. "You need to rest. We’ve already lost the others, and who knows how many will follow. Can’t lose you too."

And with that, they were off, followed by the unsure looking elven woman. She looked at Gurlak in question as she tried to follow.

The uruk would have liked to ask her for more details about what had happened, but she had no time, and she could not afford any distractions. She jerked her head. "You should go to the tent as well, elf. You’re clearly not equipped for a fight."

The blonde nodded unevenly and gave Gurlak a slight bow. "Celebrimbor and Glug told me you’re with our people. Thank you," she breathed, "The- Annatar, he. He attacked them when they converged upon the tower. For what it’s worth, last I saw and heard, your Lord Adar and Celebrimbor were still alive."

And then she hurried after Glug and the healer, without even waiting for Gurlak to reply. The uruk hummed to herself and shook her head. The news Glug and the blonde had brought her were sounding quite dire indeed.

But what could she possibly do? Sending in even more soldiers would likely only result in more deaths and little else, wouldn’t it? If Adar and the elven warriors couldn’t best him, she was certain nobody could.

She motioned for another lieutenant to step closer towards her, in order to discuss on how to proceed. This one wanted to take a dozen soldiers and leave for Eregion. Soon, she and him quietly argued over the matter - or, tried to, at least. Of course, everyone around them was trying to listen in, even when she looked over and bared her teeth at them with a snarl, before shouting at them to make themselves useful and send another patrol around the camp’s edges again.

The other lieutenant finally made her reconsider when he said, "I’ll only take those that wish to go, and no more than a dozen soldiers," before he leaned in closer. "I can see you want nothing more than to go there yourself and help Adar. We all do. Let me go in your stead."

"You’re the third person asking me to let them leave, and to a certain doom no less," she hissed, and crossed her arms in frustration as she paced back and forth.

The other smirked; he’d been with her when she’d let Celebrimbor go. Something that she would do well not to tell Adar, if she got the chance to talk to him again.

Once. Once she got the chance to do so. She would not let growing despair take what little hope she had left yet.

"Looks like Adar’s elf lord made it just fine so far. And besides," his smirk got even wider. "I can tell you wish to help him, too."

Damn it. So her fondness of the elven smith truly was as obvious as Adar’s infatuation with him. Her mother would scold her something fierce if she knew Gurlak had gotten friendly with an elf. Even if he was a smith, and a pretty decent one at that, from what she'd seen of his craft.

She shook her head, sighed, and clasped the other lieutenant’s shoulder. "Keep that to yourself, and start walking," she grouched by way of permitting him to go. She couldn’t make herself do any different; if she asked him to be careful, she’d surely grow sentimental. A potential battlefield was not the place for that sort of nonsense.

He didn't comment, but only offered a respectful head tilt and stepped back to shout for his troop to join him. Soon, they’d made for the treeline, and then, Eregion.

More time passed after that. The sun still shone, bright and dangerous, almost mocking, and continued to wander the sky at a snail’s pace. Gurlak, likewise, continued to pace, asked for more reports, sent the guards out to patrol the camp’s borders once again. Had all of them return safely, but received no news from anyone who’d made for the city.

It was grating. It was grueling. Gurlak had never so accutely felt the passage of time, or lack thereof, as she had in those moments. Not even as an urukling, when she’d first begun to apprentice and been so excited that nothing could happen fast enough for her, especially things like the metal heating in the forge.

This was the opposite of that. And far worse.

It got to a point where she pulled out the little cluster of mismatched chainmail links, dull hooks, frayed leather straps and other little knick knacks that she hadn’t yet found a use for in her forge, and began to pass it through her fingers, worrying the leather and feeling out the indentations and scratches in the metal to calm herself.

After a very long time, and when she’d finally allowed herself a moment to sit and drink something, she heard loud shouting coming from the entrance to the camp.

Alert, she jumped onto her feet and hurried over, only to see multiple uruk of the troop that had last left the camp for the elven city, hollering and chanting.

To her surprise, the tone was elated – downright joyous. The chants were about victory, the hollering about how-

"He’s dead! The Deceiver is dead! Morgoth’s shadow is no more!"

Gurlak stopped, disbelieving, sure that she must have misheard. But no, the soldiers were smiling as well, some of them even jumping about as they found fellow comrades, friends or family, grasping at shoulders and shaking the others as they repeated their excited claims.

"They killed him – Adar and the elves, they killed him!"

Slowly, Gurlak allowed hope to enter her body, barely a kindling for now, but ready to become a bright, warm flame. Knowing the soldiers were alright put her a little at ease, and hearing that their leader and their new allies had defeated their shared foe did similarly.

But there was no word about Adar’s survival, yet. Or about the fate of the elves who’d gone with him.

She frowned as she stepped forward, until finally, she managed to grab one of the soldier’s arms and sternly directed his gaze towards her.

"What happened? Tell me everything," she demanded.

He smiled brightly, in the way uruk rarely did except for when they’d caught good game, or won an important battle, and explained how they’d entered the city and been directed to the tower, only to find dead bodies and destruction as they approached.

How they’d gone inside to find yet more devastation – but also, the shattered sword that the elven smith had made, at the site of the battle, with him having been defeated. And finally-

"Adar’s hurt, but alive," the soldier explained, as Gurlak had continued to look at him in deep worry despite all he’d previously said. "The elves are too."

It was then that Gurlak finally felt herself untense, allowed the kindle to turn into a proper hearth/furnace fire of relief, and huffed out a breath as she began to grin. "Good thing they are. I’d have gone to that place elves go after dying and dragged them right back here," she tried to joke, and was aware that her voice and hands shook as she did. "And I’d have found where they keep the uruk and gotten Adar back as as well."

Thankfully, Adar wasn’t around to witness this. She knew he’d understand. But he’d likely also tease her, in that fatherly way he did, or even the same way she enjoyed teasing him whenever she got the chance.

The soldier patted her on the arm in understanding, then he looked around and leant a little closer, "Oh, and also, I think him and the elf lord finally talked. They were all spark-eyed and clinging to each other when we got there."

Gurlak drew her head back and grasped the other uruk’s shoulder in response. The part of her that had been appointed to help keep the troops in check, that was meant to guard Celebrimbor, insisted that this was ultimately inconsequential for now, that it could wait until she’d seen Adar alive and back in camp.

The other part of her, that loved gossip as much as any uruk did, and could never quite resist an opportunity to tease the Lord Father, ultimatly prevailed however. "They did?" she chuckled and shook her head. "Finally. Took them long enough."

The other nodded and chuckled along with her. "Yeah, agreed. Haven’t seen a pair so dense as them before in my entire life. And my brother can crack stones with his thick skull!"

This, Gurlak knew, was no figure of speech. She’d seen his brother do that more than once. And witnessed Adar’s ire as he insisted the uruk should use his head for other, more useful things instead.

"Speaking of," the soldier said and looked at her sideways. "Weren’t you supposed to guard Adar’s elf?"

Gurlak refused to be apologetic. Not when almost everyone had survived. Adar could take it all up with her if he wished. She had a hunch Celebrimbor would speak in her favor if the Lord Father took offense to her decisions.

She shrugged. "He slipped past me and the rest of the group. You’ve seen him. He’s like a leaf in the wind - fast, unpredictable. And I couldn’t have tried to get him back, I’ve had other duties." And then she stared the other down, daring him to argue.

He looked at her skeptically, before shrugging as well. "Eh, that’s fair I guess. And anyway, it lead to them finally talking. So it’s likely for the best, anyway." And with that, he patted her arm once more, and then parted from her to go over to his aforementioned brother to continue with the excited hollering and the shouting.

Around her, Gurlak could see what was quickly beginning to look like a proper celebration of their victory. More and more uruk came together, bringing seating and barrels of drink, relighting large fires but this time, not to prepare for war, but for a feast.

She let them. And, once word came that Adar and his elf husband would be seen to by the healers of Eregion and then rest, she was among the first to help roll in the larger barrels, and partook readily in drink and food and song too, along with the others. She wasn’t sure if all of those that had gone to Eregion would return back here; the elven king would have to talk to his own troops, and Celebrimbor to his people.

But Adar, he’d certainly come back to them. And until then, they’d start celebrating his victory.

Their victory.

It took a whole day for Adar to finally return to camp. From what Gurlak had been told, he and Celebrimbor had been so exhausted from the fight – and doubtlessly, everything that had lead up to it – that they had collapsed into the nearest bed to get some sleep right after.

Which she approved of. Adar usually looked as if nothing could unsettle him, but the truth was that he worried just as much as Gurlak did. Probably more so, even.

He deserved some rest. Celebrimbor also.

She’d been in the middle of yet another drink, laughing wholeheartedly as four other uruk did their best to create a new battlesong in honor of the recent victory and then began to squabble over whether Adar’s marriage, the alliance or the victory over the Deceiver should be the most important event to be sung about, when she heard loud chanting coming from outside the camp.

"Adar! Adar! Adar!"

It quickly spread, likely because the Lord Father himself approached where most of the uruk had gathered, causing Gurlak and some of the others to jump to their feet and hurry in the direction of the chanting. While the other lieutenants ran, Gurlak favored brisk, quick steps, but they all were equally drawn towards the source of the cheering.

Adar looked both battleworn and proud as he slowly strode into camp. It was obvious that his status among his children allowed him to move forward unhindered where he otherwise might have been held up, with the uruk quickly walking back and out of his way so he might pass. Many were bowing in deference, patting and touching his arms, his shoulders, even his upper back, but they all let him move freely among them.

As she looked at him more closely, Gurlak could see nasty cuts on her leader’s arms, various smaller cuts all over his upper body, and a big one on his upper thigh, all of which had already stopped bleeding. Nothing life-threatening, especially not for him. She heaved a sigh of relief and allowed a smile to spread across her face as she approached.

Since Glug was still being treated by the healers, she took it upon herself to talk to Adar. He’d want to know about his most trusted’s whereabouts, and both she and the other uruk wanted to know what had happened.

Particularly, if what the soldier had told her about Adar and his husband was true.

She watched his gaze move over his children, touching their hands and laying his own on their shoulders, patting their arms in reassurance and comfort. As he spotted the smith, they locked eyes, and he soon came walking over towards her.

Gurlak, who knew she was far more prone to touching others than most of her fellow uruk, wanted nothing more than to reach out and draw her Lord Father into a tight hug. Much had depended on this day, and she knew Adar had been ready to die in an effort to ensure everyone else’s survival.

Seeing him, both alive and after having managed to protect the vast majority of them, was today’s greatest victory in her opinion.

Instead of wrapping her arms around him like she wished to do, she smiled widely at him, proud of her leader and his deeds, even as she did her best to blink away sentimental tears of relief.

She had a reputation to uphold, after all, and crying in front of Adar like a small urukling would be a very quick way to leave it in complete shambles. No, she would not cry.

Instead, she smiled wider, and nodded at her leader before inclining her head in a show of respect. Adar, to her pride and delight, did likewise towards her.

"Lord Father," she said as she righted herself. Still, her hands itched to reach out and feel that he was really here, alive and well. Or, relatively well, at least. "I’m glad to see you return."

"Gurlak," Adar replied. He still looked tired, despite the sleep he’d supposedly gotten in Eregion, but his expression was openly fond. "I am glad to return as well."

"You better be," she joked, unable to help herself, and finally reached out to pat his shoulder. To her surprise, he reached up a hand and caught hers in his, then gave it a squeeze.

Her smile wobbled as she felt the warmth of his skin. He truly was here. Her heart felt full.

She took a shuddering breath and continued before her emotions could affect her too much. "We heard about your victory, though the soldiers were scarce on the details."

Adar snorted and glanced at the surrounding uruk, all of whom seemed to have leant closer at her words. The feast was still underway, but in Adar’s direct vicinity, things had gone quiet. He let his eyes roam and raised an eyebrow, before he looked at Gurlak once again.

A small smile stole itself onto his lips. "That much is true. The elves and I, we have defeated the Deceiver-"

He didn’t get any further than that, at least not in that moment, when loud cheering broke out once more, a battlecry that had to carry all the way to Eregion and even beyond.

Gurlak lifted her other hand and took hold of Adar’s shoulders, even as she refrained from shouting herself. Instead, she nodded at his words, and waited for the cheering to die down again.

"My children," Adar addressed them, once the noise had quieted down again, "Some of your brothers and sisters have been lost on this day – we should light the pyres in their memory, and in tribute to their sacrifice. Thankfully, less have died than I had feared. But still, each one poses a loss to us. This day should be in their honor."

"It can be in their honor, and yours as well!" One of the uruk from the crowd argued. There was much murmuring, and nodding. Another added, "We should celebrate the living and their victory as well."

"Speaking of which," Gurlak used the chance, and waited till Adar had directed his attention towards her again. "One such survivor is Glug. An elven girl brought him into camp yesterday. He’s still being treated by the healers. They think it’ll take him a good while to recover but – they say he’ll make it."

Most would not have been able to spot it, but the smith knew Adar well, and could see the way his eyes slightly widened, how the set of his shoulders relaxed even as his hand tightened around her own again.

"I am glad to hear it," he said, voice quieter than when he’d addressed his children moments ago. "Where is he?"

"I’ll bring you to him," Gurlak promised. She’d already guessed that Adar would want to see the wounded before he partook in any celebrations himself. That was just who he was, and why they followed him; he’d always be the one to care the most, to shed tears for the fallen even when others had no more left to cry.

It had been why his behavior, back before Celebrimbor had been brought into camp, had unsettled them all so much. He was one to make difficult decisions, yes, but the single-minded way he’d set them on a path of war had seemed odd to many of them.

In hindsight, she supposed it had been concern borne of old hatred, and fear. Ill-begotten and misdirected.

"But first, tell us, what about the others? What about," she deliberated for a short moment, and then decided to try for levity. "What about your elf- I mean, your husband?"

The fact that she could see Adar falter and struggle to find an immediate reply to her remark made her raise her eyebrows. Maybe the soldier had been right after all. Dare she say it, the Lord Father looked a little...flustered.

"He is quite well – as are the other elves," Adar replied. He glanced sideways. It was as if all the uruk collectively held their breath. It was obvious that rumors had already spread. When their leader glanced at Gurlak, she was looking at him expectantly.

"He helped us defeat our foe, and saved my life," he shared, and finally admitted, "And...I also believe our marriage has grown into something beyond the duties to our people, and the political benefits it provides."

There was, unsurprisingly, even more cheering afterwards. Adar looked vaguely embarrassed.

Gurlak, herself, wore the widest grin she could muster yet, and slapped Adar’s shoulders in obvious approval. Many other uruk did likewise, patting his back and his arms, muttering congratulations and agreement.

She could see Adar blink in surprise when, among the well wishes and teasing, there were exclamations of "Finally" and "Took them long enough" mixed in.

The Lord Father looked at Gurlak in question. She simply tilted her head and looked at him with a light frown, as if to silently ask him if he was being serious. Going by his continued look of confusion, it seemed like he actually was. Gurlak shook her head and huffed a breath; for being so long-lived and wise, Adar could be quite dense sometimes.

She’d tease him about it, once there was a bit more time to do so. He very much deserved it.

"Speaking of which, how do you know he was in Eregion? Celebrimbor, I mean," Adar added, and narrowed his eyes as he studied Gurlak. His gaze was piercing – but the tilt of his mouth was that of a small, knowing grin, not a disapproving frown. "I distinctly remember that you were tasked with keeping him behind the frontlines."

Gurlak, who’d had time to think on her answer, wasn’t taken off guard in the least. Without a single blink, she replied, "Ah, yes. We heard some suspicious noise in the forest and sent him back to camp on his own. Must have slipped away and somehow found his way into the city again," and then she smirked at Adar and raised her eyebrows as she teasingly continued, "he is quite nimble, after all."

Adar tried his best to look unimpressed, but she could see his mouth twitch at her remark, and let her grin turn into a gleeful smile.

She couldn’t help but add, "Also, it looks like it worked out for the best, after all, didn’t it?"

Whether he was in a good mood due to the victory, or because of the fact that he and his elf had finally managed to have a heart-to-heart, Adar just sighed and nodded in agreement. "That it did. Though I could have gladly done without the terror his sudden appearance evoked in me," he said, but again, his tone was light.

Gurlak nodded and patted his shoulder once again. Looking at Adar, wounded but standing upright, obviously besotted with his elven husband, she let his words sink in – Celebrimbor had actually saved Adar.

If that reckless elf hadn’t decided to defy his husband, his friends, his own king and insisted to go back ino the city...if she hadn’t let him-

She’d have to thank the elf, once she saw him again.

With a sudden surge of relief and gratitude, not just at Celebrimbor but the victory itself, Gurlak stepped forward while drawing her Lord Father towards herself, and soon had him in a tight hug.

No matter how forward she usually was, she’d normally have never been so bold as to hug him, especially in front of so many others. But with the victory, and the confirmation that Adar could have died, the urge to do had finally been too overwhelming to resist anymore.

To her surprised elation, the other did not protest or try to untangle himself, even if she knew that her tight grip had to aggravate some of his bruises or potentially even his ribs, with the way he let out a pained hiss.

Instead, he seemed almost frozen as Gurlak closed her eyes, face turned outwards so Adar wouldn’t see a tear leave her eye, cheek pressed the the chainmail on his shoulder. The warmth of his body seeped into her own, and she could feel him breathe against her as she held on.

After a moment or two, Adar slowly lifted his own arms, and then sat heavy, steady hands onto the smith’s upper back.

She was glad the rattling and clanking of armor swallowed her small sob, as other uruk came closer and similarly wrapped their arms around them. Gurlak wasn’t sure who she was pressed against, or how many, just that when she reached out with one hand, there was no direction in which she wouldn’t touch someone’s arm, or shoulder, or upper back.

Soon, she was surrounded by warmth and bodies from all sides, as was Adar. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever felt so safe, so comforted, ever since her mother had cradled her to her chest as a small babe.

When she felt steady enough to do so, the smith lifted her head, and saw a sea of arms and hands, slung tightly around bodies, soldiers and smiths and guards and builders and parents and children, all of them embracing in relief and happiness.

When she turned her face towards her Lord Father, the other was similarly looking around, eyes wandering the camp. There was a sheen over them, and differently than Gurlak, he did not hide them as his tears began to fall. But when he looked at her, his expression was not one of sorrow, but one of hope and joy. She gladly returned his smile with one of her own.

Slowly, chanting started up around them again. Slower, this time, more reverent than elated, and more quiet, but quickly rising in loudness. The sound of their chant seemed to encompass the whole camp, shivered its way through Gurlak’s body, who soon chanted along without conscious thought.

"Nampat! Nampat! Nampat!"

[myrsinemezzo]

Haladriel Positivity Post #2

Okay my darlings, my dears! Haladriel has changed our brain chemistry, clearly. For the better?? I think so. This post is a shout out to the fandom for changing my very outlook on guilt and morality and art. Because of the creative works from amazing haladriel writers, artists, and editors, I went from “no thank you I will certainly NOT be having a helping of any dove, dead or otherwise. Or kink. Or abo. Or or or…” Seriously, my bookmarks on ao3 were so tame. Because to me, ETL and Haladriel made loads of sense as a brand of ship that had nothing to do with my moral standing.

They were more than the sum of their parts. He wasn’t just evil, she wasn’t just good. They were a mess of squishy complicated emotions and parts. (And none more squishier than you, gooron post-Adar slaying, amirite?)

But I turned my nose up at a whole heap of other things even as I loved these two crazy kids/immortal beings. Then I dove deeper into fandom and discovered that there were whole worlds I had closed off. And those worlds were shockingly good.

Because if I can enjoy “Sauron shoving the ultimate Morgul blade into Galadriel’s chest in an erotically charged manner and then getting very lip wobbly emo about it afterwards”, then I can also read and write and view a passel of things that force me to look (or that tilt my chin up gently with a sword point — potato potato) at things that push my boundaries.

So thank you to all who create literally anything for this fandom but in particular today to those who love to experiment with pushing buttons and boundaries.

Bonus: Some recs! And please if you’re reading this feel free to share your own if so inclined. I love encountering new things and being reminded of things to revisit!

This fic, “the law is reason (free from passion)” by @hazelmaines was I think my first abo fic ever? I would read hazel’s grocery list and find it enthralling so I gave it a shot and to my surprise was fascinated by the world building involved with abo and wowee did it bring the hot sauce when it came to haladriel as a pairing. Lawyers with voracious appetites for each other? Sign me up. I didn’t even burst into a pillar of flame afterwards (or I mean, I did but not like that…)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/50193469

Next up is the BDSM fic series that rewired my brain by @softlighter the one, the only “catharsis”. Reading about a powerful woman learning to accept herself for who she is and maybe even love what she sees in the end(??) is something that makes me weep and broke a lot of barriers for me, including realizing I wasn’t going to turn into a pillar of ash or salt or whatever other biblical metaphor you like from reading it. Whoever recommended this, I want to kiss you right on the mouth.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47895979

Getting into the dead dove side of things, nothing lives rent free in my noggin and made me think about how art can be disturbing and beautiful and incredibly effective at making you look inward at the same time like “the shark in your water” by @bad-surprise. Holy wow. Poeticmemory’s Halbrands always fascinate me but this one is the embodiment of that one shot in that one haladriel scene in that one gif 👇where I absolutely cannot look away and feel every emotion in the book

Treat yourself with care if you decide to try this treat of a fic.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45286258

I am still absolutely blown away by the two most recent works I’m including in this list. The first is this beautifully disturbing edit by @snezhjeyka set to alt-j’s “breezeblocks”. It is the definition of lyrical and haunting.

The second is the fic it later inspired by @czernyfanclub aka bluececilia on ao3. (That dedication makes me weep, pal 😭) The dove is dead as all get-out and yet the language?? The imagery?? As admirable as old Mairon himself.

Ok. That’s it for now! I’ll try to post again whenever I have another brainwave of what I love about this fandom, because damn do I love what it has done for me personally and for so many others.

Eat, Pray, ETL. Or something.

[yeesandhaws]

guess who just finished TROP s2 and has a lot to say about it (specifically the last episode)?

that's right, yours truly. (these are just thoughts in the order i remember them in tbh this lacks organization it is PURELY a rant). also, i'm NOT a tolkien purist by any stretch. i just started reading the silmarilion (literally today) and i'm not super picky about media so whether or not this story is at all accurate to what he's written, i enjoyed it nonetheless and don't want to hear about "oh but it's not accurate to-" it's a loose adaptation. obviously it's not gonna be accurate to the book. i'm sure the book is great. that doesn't mean this show wasn't good too. get over it. anyways, with that out of the way, here are my actual thoughts. also warning for spoilers (duh) but also this came out a good bit ago so like... i'm the one behind the curve here.

first off, i somehow managed to not cry when celebrimbor died! not at all out of lack of sorrow, i almost vomited 4 times over the course of the scene. most likely my lack of tears was because i knew it was going to happen - in a way i'm happy they did not spare us the details of celebrimbor's death and made it just as cruel and horrific as it ought to have been (and no offense, but to anyone who actually still finds sauron hot after this season and in particular s2ep8, what in the actual hell?) but also like... HE SAID IT!!! (and by it i mean "lord of the rings"). celebrimbor died an honorable death, despite the suffering he endured, and that i respect so greatly. i may cry myself to sleep over him, who knows? his suffering hurts me on a deep, deep level. do i have a new comfort character? perchance.

secondly, the burning of the texts of celebrimbor actually sickened me to my core yet again! lots of things in this episode that sickened me to my core, lots and lots. the sheer scale of destruction was actually portrayed so well, watching this city i grew to admire and love so dearly get completely razed was so so agonizing! but that one scene in the battle with that one elf who was super cool until he got shot down like 5 seconds later? excellent cinematography there (at least to the eye of a layperson such as myself)

and speaking of fighting and whatnot, ELROND IS SO FINE!!! i did not think i'd find TROP elrond pretty or hot or anything ever! and yet, upon seeing the man fight (and god knows getting a man all bloodied and bruised does wonders to my heart - also his CURLSSS LIKE AUGH--) and absolutely COOK in the battlefield, my opinion has been swayed, let's just say. and I’ve always loved elrond as a character despite his flaws (like i know it was pretty lame of him to just let isildur walk away with the ring, and by pretty lame i mean REALLY lame. but i support elrond rights and wrongs, and hopefully they give reason for this in the show? maybe there was already reason in the books and i just forgot? it’s been a hot minute since i read LOTR). i think he is just such a bright soul and not just pretty but also smart and very helpful, i feel like he compensates for his mistakes by actively mending bridges and being cool and understanding and wise - also, upon seeing his misery over the destruction of celebrimbor’s work, i feel even more endeared towards him and his bookishness and just vast knowledge he possesses, like it makes so much sense why he seems to thirst for knowledge so, after seeing it so cruelly destroyed in front of his eyes? maybe I’m over analyzing but i like my take on things. anyways, i could go on and on about him in both LOTR and the hobbit (books and movies) and why i think he’s awesome sauce but ok that's enough fangirling over elrond. back to my rant.

third off, ADAR??? like i knew he died because spoilers or whatever but my god. ohhh my god. his entire character has me agonizing over what-ifs of peace and harmony and i never thought i'd catch myself dead feeling bad for this guy because yk evil but NO! NOT EVIL! and his death was so tragic! his babies killed him! i was really starting to feel for the uruk but NAHHHH. it struck a very similar chord to boromir's death in the movies when he's like, "the little ones--" LIKE THE SAME SORT OF JUST DREADFUL SORROW FLOODED THROUGH ME! to think that there truly could have been peace, to think that it all could have been so vastly different. i don't want to think about it, it'll enrage me and make me sad. the light of power calls to those with weak minds and burns those who try to resist it or something, idk what i’m on. but adar’s death is representative of a lot of things. real world things, specifically. so of course i'm thinking about it because what's life without a lil doozy to cry yourself to sleep to?

what DID make me tear up, corny as one may consider it, was the whole poppy speech at the end of the episode, and what made me properly cry was the gandalf and tom bombadil (my darling) singing. cathartic as hell. i'm a sucker for corny cheesy stuff. but also like it is LITERALLY halflings, gandalf, and tom-mfing-bombadil, the most whimsical beings in middle-earth. they have the right to be cheesy, and we all have the right to enjoy it. tolkien songs always make me cry, though. always. i’ve got personal lore with them. and on the note of the ending, i kinda wish it had just ended with the singing scene, because while i understand the end serves its heroic elvish cliffhanger purpose, there was a certain LOTR-ness to the song that was honestly more hopeful than the actual ending scene. i love sappy endings. that much is obvious.

to be quite honest, neither the arondir and isildur subplot nor the numenor subplot were very good or entertaining to me. i dunno, i found myself bored. but, maybe upon the father-son reunion of elendil and isildur some stuff will happen? like obviously stuff will happen because of the plot but it was just frustrating watching all of the numenor drama and the weird romances in the arondir and isildur realm - not to be a hater but i was SO disinterested. also so very infuriating watching numenor fall into the hands of pharazon. i’m sure that frustration was the goal but at the same time it’s just ANNOYING also given the fact that we know elendil dies and isildur messes up, it’s just annoying watching them being all noble and whatnot only to know that elendil just dies and isildur for all his nobility in the show, succumbs to this desire (and i understand, i do, but it’s just dreadful and sad).

either way, berek is my favorite TROP horse and i love his roman nose. and speaking of horses, moment of silence for elrond's horse. he was SO justified for raging upon the horse’s death. he is a horse girl, and that is something i can relate to deeply.

aaaand i still have more to say. rest is for the weak. one thing that kinda annoyed me was the whole durin thing. i LOVED the corruption with the ring, i loved watching the fallout of that. but i think the thing this show struggles with is keeping the sort of… for lack of better explanation, corniness, at bay. there is a time and place for everything. gandalf and tom have the license for it in my mind, as a bit of silliness is part of their charm. but the whole, “i never let you win the arm wrestles” thing before the balrog swallowed up durin the second (i think he’s the second??) was just SO contrived. but i also am a bit of a hater sometimes, so maybe that’s just me. also let’s be so for real idk how mountains work but i feel like with the amount of thrashing about that balrog did, there’d be some more damage to khazad-dûm as a whole. but again, idk how mountains work in that much detail, and i am MORE than willing to partake in some suspension of disbelief to keep the plot chugging along. that being said, i adore prince durin and disa (MY QUEEEEEN AHHH), and i also adore durin and elrond. i adore elrond generally but also like durin and elrond are so sweet and lovely i adore their bromance. it was frustrating to watch them show up at the tail end of battle and do kind of nothing but also i get it :(

and now i get to talk about sauron. god, i’ve always hated him and luckily never even found the appeal of halbrand, but now? i’ve unlocked new levels of hatred never seen before. listen, listen, i knowww people like their sexy villain, but sexy is as sexy does, and sauron does not do sexy things. i know it’s a deliberate choice to make sauron an ‘attractive’ character, and that is conveyed really well in the show! but as an audience like GUYS HE IS NOT FIXABLE. YOU CANNOT FIX HIM. HE IS PURE EVIL. please, let’s not try to give him an inkling of redemption. he doesn’t deserve it. i didn’t really jive with the whole galadriel/sauron thing that was going on, but i think the show did a good job of portraying it in a way that wasn’t actually hot and rather disturbing! like they did SUCH a good job of exposing what a conniving, manipulative (pardon my french) bastard sauron is - like the dialogue was something straight out of those PSAs i had to watch in my health class talking about abusive relationships. it was perfectly infuriating, watching sauron gaslight these brilliant minds and genuinely good-intentioned people into mere tools for his will.

and speaking of those mere tools, CELEBRIMBOR AND SAURON. they may in fact take over my entire being. silvergifting genuinely sickens me (in a good way) to my very core because here we have two characters who matched each other’s freak PERFECTLY while still being so damn awful for each other. like i’ve said in previous posts, the genuine anguish i felt watching celebrimbor’s light and genius and genuine enthusiasm for both halbrand and his work turn into something like obsession, turning him into a mere lapdog for this “lord of gifts,” and ultimately watching his suffering to escape this mental (and physical) bonds placed upon him only for his life’s work. in a sense, to be completely obliterated along with him was something that actually shook me to my core. obviously he lives on through legend and memory, but the contrast between the elf he was and the elf he became by the end of it all was just so so so so so sad. again, celebrimbor being my newfound favorite in a sense only further fuels my hatred for sauron. he tarnished a mind so bright as the stars and a heart so pure as them too, using celebrimbor’s want for a magnum opus against himself, convincing him that the blame was his — to me, this was a genuinely enragingly good portrayal of the abuse sauron subjects his victims to, treading the line of seduction and cruelty. and yet, one thing that celebrimbor said in his dying breaths really stood out to me. “shadow of morogth.” now i do not know a lot about the lore yet, but to me it is just so very powerful that sauron is considered but a shadow of a much more powerful evil. i don’t think the tears he shed after killing celebrimbor were out of guilt, per se, but rather because he knows that in the eyes of those who he wants to instill fear into, he will always be second place. he will never be the most feared, for even his name cannot be spoken without mention of his master. a much deserved curse, if you ask me. also, little silvergifting-minded of me, but I’d like to think that if sauron really was crying tears of guilt, it was because he lost the mind that understood the same thirst for perfection that he wanted. celebrimbor and sauron, both masters of their craft and striving for perfection, for a legacy. if i had watched arcane I’d say they’re slightly jayvik coded (at least with sauron as halbrand) but more toxic, but I haven’t seen arcane so i don’t know if that is a correct comparison at all.

holy mother of god, get me a PHD in yapology with the amount of stuff i’ve managed to say. anyways, overall, i really liked this show. despite its certain flaws and lackluster plots, i found it super enjoyable. feel free to leave your takes in the comments or whatever, i have so much to say

[mai-komagata]

re: sexy stabbings

im writing this very long meta on how galadriel x sauron and silvergifting dynamics help an audience recognize different forms of seduction in a relatable way (including queer forms of seduction, which audiences are normally blind to), and how recognizing these ships isn't about "crack shipping" but about the text using the language of sexuality/eroticism/seduction to convey concepts that would otherwise be vague and not-understandable like temptation to a metal object or wounds that cannot heal or possession by an alien being as well as concept of "men in a fantasy/magical/superhero setting are not just power levels" -- ie. the strongest man should always win. Galadriel is *integral* to this because most characters in tolkien are male and audiences are pre-disposed to ignoring emotional dynamics in men other than anger and violence -- the contrast with a female romance lets an audience be like "these people, adar, galadriel, celebrimbor are more alike than distinct". (wow maybe i don't need to write it, anymore!). But since that is taking me very long to write and i keep running into queer-erasure every day i'll just say this: the reason we don't see Sauron torture Galadriel in the same way she tortures Celebrimbor is not because his relationship with them is cosmically different (obviously its different bc they are different people). Galadriel is not more "pure" or "loved" than Celebrimbor. Neither is blameless (i.e. both were ambitious) and neither is deserving of torture (nobody deserves that, even Sauron). It's because there is different symbolism to the way they are being hurt. Arrows being used as martyrdom is a millennia old way of showing homosexuality. Stabbing is metaphorical of penetration. He intended to kill both of them for denying them the Nine. Because Sauron is bad at impulse control, he takes and believes he is wiser than he is. If he wants something he will take it and then regret that he broke his favorite thing. (note he doesn't regret killing other people he doesn't twistedly love, like mirdania, or the orcs).

Galadriel had Nenya (i.e. Celebrimbor's magic, untouched by sauron) and Elrond was able to save her (love and light win the day). Celebrimbor died as symbolic for what happened to Eregion (he was alone and eregion fell).

This doesn't mean BOTH scenes aren't meant to be erotic. The stabbing is hot and the caressing of the arrows are hot. But they are hot in a BDSM/noncon way. "Do you understand what it's like to be tortured by a god?" sorta way.

Pragmatically, though, the reason we don't see more graphic galadriel is because it would make audiences uncomfortable. You can be way more graphic with gay shit and people won't be squicked than if you are graphic with m/f abuse. As i said, a good 50-70% of the audience won't even NOTICE the gay shit and think its just standard fantasy violence. The closer you make it to outright rape, the less compelling it is, because Sauron needs to both be APPEALING and EVIL in order to understand why people are drawn to the rings of power and why it is essential to oppose it.

[disclaimer: this is not anti galadriel x sauron, it is just in favor of seeing the ship in a dark way as part of the larger narrative. When I talk about shipping them in a dark way i don't mean simply its my kink, i mean this is a dark seduction story at heart. The actors are very hot, their acting is very sexy, but the function in the larger story is to display the different ways sauron tempts and corrupts people, including galadriel, celebrimbor, adar, and how sauron himself was corrupted by melkor].

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Astray far Away Ch5

Adar x Reader | ch.1 - ch.4

Arrangements are made, research is done, a new chapter is started.

Adar let you roam around as you pleased, under the only rule of orienting yourself and deciding on a job.

The two of you had met on his request the day after your trip to the hot springs to formally discuss your future in the community.

“It has only been three days since you have joined our kind,” Adar returned to his seat at the end of the large table set up in his tent. “yet you walk among the uruk as if you have been a part of our ranks for years. I enjoy seeing your positive influence on my children.” 

When early this morning you were summoned to Adar’s tent you worried about the reason behind it, your mind immediately recalling the day before and how maybe Adar had decided later on that you had disrespected him with your words or actions. He had not mentioned a word of it in private on your way back home.

Apparently the uruk escorting you felt your discomfort and gave you a rather strong pat on the back, causing you to almost stumble as he spoke. “Dun’ worry. It’s job talks.”

You were relieved, smiling up at the uruk who had yet to give you his name. He did look familiar. He had been in Adar’s presence quite often so you assumed he was of a higher rank. 

On your way across the town you saw them again, the other mortals with their clear distaste of your treatment.

All except one spat curses at you that you tried your hardest to ignore.

“You don’t gotta listen to them. They hate us. They’re jealous creatures.” He raised his voice at the last part, happily directing his words at the rude mortals. Yes, his own kind wasn’t always the nicest and were known for their violence, but they at least treated folks the same way they were treated. 

Since you were kind to them, they returned the kindness to their own extent. 

The uruk changed paths near Adar’s tent and bid you a good day before leaving you to walk the last distance alone.

You arrived to Adar sitting across the fireplace. The fire cast an amber glow over his frame clad in just trousers and a black undershirt with intricate embroidered designs on its sleeves and collar. His hair sat tied in a braid over his shoulder and you wondered if he slept like that. 

Upon noticing your arrival he got up and came to greet you with a pot of hot water in hand. 

Sat at the table with both a steaming cup of tea, Adar started.

“It has only been three days since you have joined our kind,” He talked about his perspective of seeing you among his kind and how he enjoyed seeing your kindness reflect on them. His complimenting words felt warm, and combined with the tea he has given you this morning was close to perfect.

“I am glad you feel so positively about my influence on the uruk. I have to be honest and haven't noticed much change myself.” It was no lie, the uruk who you had actively spoken with had always been kind to you, or at least acted normal in their own gruff way. Of course there were exceptions, but Adar knew that as well. He casually shared the less positive words he had received as well, and ensured you they were nothing to worry about seeing the uruk sharing those words had always disliked outsiders and changes in their lifetime. 

“Now, I called you here to discuss your place in our community. With your wound healed and your basic knowledge learned I’d like it if you decided what you’d be willing to do to contribute.” 

Outside sounded loud construction noises. Yelling, hauling, commanding and it pulled your attention, having you turn your head towards it. Adar followed your gaze and took it upon himself to fill in your thoughts. It was clear as day there was a big difference between you and the other Southlanders, that thought never left you. Especially now while you sat comfortably at the uruk leader’s table with a fresh cup of tea and being given a choice while outside the sounds of forced work filled the air. 

Your full mind left your mouth empty, not a word to be spoken yet. 

“You are different. You showed interest in us and saw us as equal. That is why we will treat you as such.” Adar’s voice suddenly being behind you pulled you back to where you sat. While he poured you new tea in such a kind manner there was no underlying emotion to be found within him. This was nothing but a formal work meeting.

You sat to discuss plans for a while, listing options that would fit a mortal woman’s strength level and sent you on your way with one last request of keeping him informed of your choices.

You had paid visits to all kinds of places, spending two days in each one but none yet had stuck.

You had seen some wargs on a quiet day. Myko had taken you to the lot they were kept in, a modified structure that held some of the friendlier creatures that Myko was allowed to see by herself. “So sad, mister Borzu isn’t here now..” The young girl pouted as she pet one of the smaller kanine-like beasts. 

“That’s alright, I will gladly come by again when he’s here.” You gave her a soft pat on the shoulder and looked over the pens that held the animals. Surprisingly they resembled the dogs you knew of somewhat. There were clear differences in their shapes and sizes but all shared some same features you noted down as what made them Wargs. You adored the big, sometimes goofy eyes and floppy ears most of them had, and so did Myko if you had to go off how she was ruffling the fur on one of the smaller wargs. 

“You can pet one too, look! Friendly." You watched in horror as the child grabbed two fistfuls of slobbering cheeks and pulled them to the sides, showing off the warg’s scary amount of sharp fangs, and a second later opened its maw that could fit her whole head in between.

“I eh, I think I will pass on petting one for now. Maybe next time when Borzu is here.

Grasho had also invited you to come join her for a day too. With her usual level of enthusiasm she had practically dragged you back to her place after running into her during breakfast. 

You spent most of the first day sorting clothes and fabric and clearing space so you’d have an area to actually work in. 

“No no, that goes there! Have an idea for that one, so no scrap pile.” Grasho had called out from where she sat behind you. 

“But you said–” 

“No scrap pile.” She took the piece from your hands and tossed it onto a pile that had gotten bigger instead of smaller over time. 

There turned out to be more exceptions to her methods than anything else, and by the end of the day it looked like all you had done was move the piles from one place to another, but at least there was a small space to work by the time you were getting too tired and had to call it a day. 

“What do you wanna do today? I can show you many things!” Your over eager uruk companion rattled your early morning brain with a long list of possibilities that lasted almost longer than the walk from your place to hers. She did bring you breakfast, at least. So you listened to her ramble and kept the important ones in your mind. 

The two of you happily worked and yes, you did learn a bunch, but you were too easily distracted in her home. It was clear when she had finished her explanation and went to work on her own stuff while you practiced sewing sturdy leather, that you could not focus on work and simultaneously listen to her ramble on and on about everything that happened to cross her mind. 

You loved Grasho dearly, but working with her was not something that was going to function well enough. And with this day you were so mentally tired from all the talking that you barely felt your aching fingers until later at home after getting some much needed quiet time.

You planned to go see Krod now, hoping he had something for you to do that wasn’t related to the hunted animals you saw a group bring in this morning.

It had been a week already since Adar gave you the task and slowly you started to worry he’d grow impatient. 

You walked through the street, stalls of the blacksmiths and leatherworkers around you, all specialized in a different craft, be it armor or accessories. 

You strolled past a smith’s tent with all kinds of small trinkets out front, taking a look at the items when all of a sudden a large uruk brushed past you and hoisted you onto his shoulder in the middle of the street.

In a panic you yelped, but it went unnoticed with his chants in what you knew to be black speech. You just didn’t know what he was saying, and he entirely ignored your pleas to be placed back down again.

To make things worse others came closer and joined in as well. There was joy in their way of chanting and cheering. Even without knowing what was going on and why you seemed to be the centre of it you felt their happiness brighten your mood as well. 

The whole street oozed celebration. Vats of what smelled like alcohol rolled in, mugs were passed among the uruk and food was shared.

Adar was making his rounds when all of a sudden noise picked up. It wasn’t something strange so he kept going at his slow pace and changed direction to take a look, only start rushing if it was necessary. 

The noise got louder, and the streets he walked through were empty, save for a few uruk who weren’t interested and had just as little of a clue as him, shrugging at him as he gave them a look in passing. 

As he rounded the last corner he was met with a full blown party. The smell of alcohol and meat filled the air and he could barely hear himself think over the black speech cheers of–

“WHAT is going on here?” Adar’s voice boomed through the crowd. “Barzug! Put her down. And explain yourselves!” He had easily spotted you sticking up out of the crowd on the shoulders of the uruk and watched him set you back on your own two feet. 

“What did you do to prompt this?” Adar’s voice was stern and his stance was one of an authority figure scolding their lessers. His eyes held annoyance.

“I swear I have no clue. They chanted something in black speech. I don’t speak it..” Your hands were up in swear, open  palms facing him in a show of defeat.

Your little moment wasn’t enough to get a clear answer between the two of you as many uruk swarmed Adar, offering him mugs of brew and handing you different kinds of foods in a large bowl. 

“Lord Father! Adar! Can’t you smell? Come, sniff!” 

Voices yelled over each other and you ended up shoved into Adar’s chestplate with a dull ‘thunk’ when your head hit it right in the middle. 

Adar’s hands were on you to steady your wobbly frame and took the closeness to gently sniff at you. By now you had gotten used to uruk shoving their face in your personal space and commenting on what they learned, but now with this commotion happening you were filled with anxious energy. “Calm yourself, if it was something bad you would have been taken to the healers.” Adar spoke in the softest tone he could muster with his nose pressed into your hair. 

He caught a whiff of something, faint and not quite clear.

With his bare hand he brushed your hair away from your shoulder and continued on. How had his children figured out something before he had? Surely his nose was still working fine. He blamed it on not seeing you every day and not noticing the apparent change as swiftly.

He had his face in the crook of your neck now and you could feel his breath on your skin, sending shivers through your entire body. It was not yet finished, though, as he trailed further down with his brows furrowed in thought. 

He jumped back up then, realization hitting him with a soft “oh” and feeling like a fool for not making the connection sooner. 

Time to ask a question wasn’t given as Adar was once again being shaken by his kin throwing their arms over his shoulder, handing him drinks that this time he did accept and playfully shoving him in cheer. 

But Adar smiled. 

A genuine wide grin spread on his face as he looked you in the eye and pried himself free from too many arms. His hand came to reach for you and you wanted to take it, but all he did was take the cup you held in yours and gave it to someone else. 

“None of that for you, no more.” His gaze lingered and watched you pout and protest. You liked that wine last time and he had personally given it to you then, so why not now?

“You will not be allowed to drink any alcohol, not for a long while.” Instead he reached out to a female uruk passing by and taking one of the grilled meat sticks she offered, handing it to you. 

“You should, on the other hand keep up your food intake.” 

Again with the food, why? What was it with the uruk and food offerings? It had yet to be explained to you and you hoped someone would do it soon.

Still you accepted it and took a small bite, enjoying the taste of it. You really had been hungry.. 

How you, by now, still hadn’t added up all the things happening and come to a conclusion was a mystery to Adar, so with a kind smile and his hands on your cheeks he forced all your attention on him.

“I feel like a fool for not catching it immediately when we passed each other this morning, you mortals smell different than uruk females..” Adar wasn’t sure why his words seemed to fail him all of a sudden. Had he truly missed this feeling so much after ages of forcing himself to believe he could never do this again? 

With his forehead laid against yours he spoke, voice barely above a whisper among the eerily quiet crowd.

“You are with child, mylady.” 

[baddybaddyadardaddy]

Funny/angsty ficlet request: pre-Forodwaith, Sauron keeps Adar in line by slipping him a love potion. Adar… doesn’t take it well when he finds out where his lovesick devotion stems from.

HAHAHAHA OKAY so this did NOT turn out funny....

but here you goooooo:

“What troubles you?” Sauron’s breath is a sharp flame, licking against the back of his neck. The maia stands close—too close. Adar clenches his gauntleted hand, shrugging away, countering around the opposite side of the large, stone table. The ample fire crackles within the hearth, sending black and amber shadows dancing and writhing across the chamber walls. The maia flashes him a smile that does not reach his eyes. “You look in need of rest,” Sauron’s eyes roam unhurriedly over him, always assessing, and Adar’s eyes fall to the goblet in his hand. “Drink this,” Sauron says, and it is a command, not an offer. “It is a tonic,” he adds, seeing the aversion in Adar’s eyes. He had suspected, for some time now, that Sauron has been… tampering… with his mind. His memories of the last weeks in the fortress are… muddied. Recalling them is like gazing into a brackish pool, the bottom of which is illusory and vague. All he has are flashes—mere glimpses, impossible to decipher: hands grasping desperately, a vice-like grip around his throat, fever-hot breath against his ear, and always—always—a slavish sense of yearning. He feels it now, though he does not wish to, gazing at the maia’s pale face, his red hair, perfectly kempt, the careful, intricate embellishments on his tunic. There is an order to him that demands to be disrupted. Unbidden, Adar’s fingers flex, as though desperate to claw at Sauron’s perfect collar and sink his teeth into the maia’s alabaster neck. He shakes himself, snarling like a wolf. “What have you done to me?” Sauron’s eyes flash, a dangerous warning. “I simply offered you a respite,” he says, his silky voice dropping low. Cat-like, he stalks around the table, one measured step at a time, pinning Adar beneath his gaze. “You were in such anguish after the war. You wanted an escape from the pain. I gave it to you.” Coming close, he leans in, pressing his lips against Adar’s ear. “I can give it to you again,” he says. “Will you drink?” Disgust curdles to desire in the pit of his stomach. Shuddering, Adar takes a single step back, just enough to look into Sauron’s golden eyes. Without a word, and without breaking eye contact, he reaches for the goblet. He presses it to his lips, and drinks it all.

also calling this to the attention of @brynnmclean , JUST BECAUSE

[varda-star-queen]

Starlight Espresso

A funny and sweet modern Adariel AU - set in Starlight Espresso the elvish version of Starbucks.

A tough shift at Starlight Espresso takes an unexpected turn for Galadriel when a dark, mysterious stranger steps up to the counter.

This little piece of caffeinated chaos was inspired by a meme I saw on Instagram and a beautiful chat with fellow Adariel enthusiast @itwillbeourswansong (who I can't thank enough for so brilliantly coming up with helpful suggestions and always being so kind and generous in her support). One thing led to another, and suddenly, I was writing a Middle-earth coffee shop AU in my car in during a downpour.

This story is my contribution to #TropFluffWeek2025 organised by @rivendellwatch (thank you!) and is for the Adariel ship – if you’re here for that, welcome! If you prefer another ship, that’s also cool, and I hope you’ll like this anyway!

Now, grab a hot drink and enjoy! ☕💙🔥

This story features: Adar and Galadriel, plus Nori, The Stranger, Tom Bombadil and Halbrand as side characters!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64230184

[wowstrawberrycow]

Adar's Living Dead Overhaul Part 5

Ohhhh this is time consuming but damn its actually easier with the hot glue! I didn't have to work about the clay being fussy! AKA sliding around, premature cracking, or wildly uneven bits!!

First I added hot glue to his nose and chin to bulk them out.⬇️

for the ears I got them wet, then pressed clay to the hot glued parts. Then I sculpted with a paint palate tool and wet paint brush.⬇️

It's hard to describe how I managed to do it but I'll do my best. So first as always I ran a wet paint brush over the areas I wanted to work on. Always work on a wet surface. Then I pressed clay to the face and chipped away bits around the glued areas. I smoothed it with a wet paint brush as I worked.⬇️

Note: for his nose and chin I wet my surface and built it up layer by layer making sure it was wet the whole time. I sculpted with plastic end of my paint brush and the wet bristles. I even managed to get the surface of his skin textured. That was by accident!but I'm pleased with that! 😁

[valar-did-me-wrong]

I need you to know your (excellent) Adarposting is why I am obsessed with the guy without seeing a second of the show and also the reason said show has moved to the top of my spring to-watch list because I am smelling a great poco-ish narrative thread with his storyline and I am hungry for it ✨

Thank you 🥹 thank youuuuu!! 🫶🏽🫂

I seriously can't wait for you to watch the show!!

I can bet my spleen you'll love Adar even more once you actually start watching!

Because none of my Adarposting actually captures the full extent of how wonderfully compelling and tragic a character he is (because I always get derailed by horny 😭 he looks so hot doing everything & nothing)

Maybe you'll like it enough that someday we get one of your fantastic fics on Adar 🤞🏽Because your brand of writing will seriously go SO HARD with Adar ❤️‍🔥

Especially something like your recent postcolonial Silm one! Because Adar does have that vibe yes 💯💯 (imo he is very extremist/hot faction freedom fighter coded.. I can clearly see him as some one like Bhagat Singh or Azad during the Indian freedom struggle)

Though I'm equally (if not more :) as excited to see you experience this show in real time in your Iconic posts 💖😭

(I'm never ever in this life forgetting about "Adar's actually his legal name and not the fandom calling him daddy??" post of yours 😭 I think about it atleast every week!!)

Thankyou so so much for sending this my way, my day has been made a thousand times better! ❤️‍🔥🫶🏽🫂

🖤

[gingeragenda]

My 2024 fic i'm most proud of

As we're finishing out 2024, what is one thing from your writing this year that you're particularly proud of? And what is one fic you wrote that you would recommend for others to read?

Thanks for the tags @valar-did-me-wrong and @celebrimborsapron

So 2024 (well the last last three months of it!) have been a big deal for me in terms of writing again (I last finished and posted a fic in 2007 lol), and have been in a really horrible Autistic burnout/prolonged recovery for years BUT s2 of trop grabbed me by the throat and writing deranged smut has, perhaps ironically, made me feel something close to my ‘normal’ for the first time in a long time so really want to thank all the folks I’ve been getting to know on here lately, especially @whenimaunicorn

ANYWAY, the questions:

what is one thing from your writing this year that you're particularly proud of?

I’m so happy with how 🔥Anemoia🔥turned out, it’s my fave part of Dream a Little Dream and I’m particularly proud of the imagery I achieved in it

In fact I love it so much it spawned the Maidar in prequel nobody asked for! But I’m not recc’ing this as it’s so early days and I’m finding my feet with a longer-form thing

And what is one fic you wrote that you would recommend for others to read?

It’s taken me so long to respond since Valardidmewrong first tagged me because I guess I feel like I write some very niche stuff sometimes and it’s for who it’s for and read at your peril, don’t blame me if you don’t like it and always read the tags? lol

So instead of doing one I’ve picked out a few bits organised by your kink!

⛓️‍💥 Your kink is Halbrand choked by a collar and a cock:

An Insignificant Endeavour

🗣️ Your kink is listening to Sauron’s smutty gay podcast it’s called Admirable Anal whore :

Caged Chaper 2

🧝‍♀️ Your kink is Adar getting catfished by femme Sauron:

Caged Chapter 3

🍗 You just wanted Adar to fuck Gal on that table:

Freed Chapter 2

🍆 Your kink is Sauron coercing Adar in domming Galadriel aka you always wanted Adar to slap you with his cock

Freed Chapter 3

🧝‍♂️🧟‍♀️🧝‍♀️Your kink is chaotic F/M/M three way, featuring:

Gal holding Adar at knifepoint

Adar has to be tied up lest he f someone to death

mid-sex Maidar bickering/magically gagged Adar

hints that there are key gaps in Sauron’s prior sexual experience

Double penetration

Messed up power dynamics

Trifecta

🪦🕊️ Your kink is theatrical set piece in the Grand Guignol tradition following the hot and cold showers principle of alternating horror and comedy (and what is presented through Adar PoV as non con but the more I think about it the more sure I am that Mairon made the guillotine)

Spectacular

Tagging: @maironscrotchlessbreeches @ghostinthetumbchine @laurelonde if you haven’t been asked already

[themalhambird]

Some ROP Star Trek AU world-building details while I think about them:

The plan was always for Elrond and Elros to go into Star Fleet together, serve together- they even joked about finding a way to Captain a ship together. But half way through the Acadamy, Elros realised it just wasn't for him. Elrond understood, but he misses his twin fervently, especially in deep space where communication is slower.

Gil-galad has a problem with migraines ,but there's a certain subset of tension headache he gets that Arondir has dubbed "the Galadriel effect". His prescription is generally a cup of tea and a couple of pills he is NEVER going to tell the Captain are actually tic tacs.

Galadriel was on board The Lindon before Gil-galad, Celebrimbor, or Elrond. The ship was caught up in start of an interplanetary war, attacked and the Captain killed. Galadriel, as acting Captain, did a phenomenal job with getting the crew to safety, the ship repaired, and managing to negotiate a cease fire between the warring sides. It was expected that battlefield promotion would become permanant- instead, Gil-galad was appointed as the new Captain.

Gil-galad brought Elrond and Celebrimbor with him to The Lindon both out of genuine fondness for them but also because 1) Elrond had served under Galadriel as an ensign and because they'd kept in touch, could be used as a sort of pre-emptive peace offering, and 2)he knows that Celebrimbor's loyal to him- in the worst case scenario of The Lindon's existing crew stonewalling-bordering-on-mutiny against him in Galadriel's favour, Celebrimbor can keep a ship's systems in working order by himself for a good handful of weeks without flagging

Adar's gauntlet in this universe is a semi-prosthetic that restores the range of motion and sensation of the arm and hand underneath. It was injured when he resorted to using his bare hand to pull apart and stop a device that would have killed every ork on abandoned on the mining/scrap colony.

Acting Chief Engineer Narvi's first introduction to New Chief Engineer Celebrimbor was finding a complete stranger "mucking about " with the replicator set up. He nearly had the interloper hauled off by security until he realised the month old ship wide glitch making everything hot the replicatar made materialise *too hot* touch for a good ten minutes had been fixed.

Galadriel starts to warm up to Gil-galad when he accepts her invitation (mostly meant as a challenge) to join the poker and drinks night she was organising for the officers. Gil-galad proceeded to match drinks with Narvi , out play her in Poker, and allow a very inebriated Elrond to sleep on his shoulder as the night drew to a close

@trans-elrond