#Elrond Peredhel x reader

[queers-gambit]

Commander

prompt: ( requested ) being on opposite sides of the Rings eventually sends your husband back into your arms, and between your legs. haha, nice.

pairing: Elrond x female!wife!reader

fandom masterlist: The Rings of Power

word count: 4.6k+

note: it is NOT said (that i've heard) that Elrond wears his father's cloak - that's just author being sentimental.

warnings: not edited, some obvious angst, mostly hurt and comfort, romance, established relationship, small relationship angst, smut, is this a Commander kink? i'm not sure. small spoilers, sibling reader.

bonus

The trees of Lindon glimmered gold and winked in the sunlight as vibrant veins of restored Light flowed through them all. It was a gorgeous sight; one you were happy to bask in after nearly losing it to the dark depths of evil corrupting Middle-earth. The only reason you had this glorious sight of twinkling beauty was because you had alined yourself with Galadriel and Celebrimbor about the distribution and use of the Elven Rings of Power - though you did not wish to claim one.

You merely desired the salvation of your people on this Middle-earth the Valar gifted The Children of Ilúvatar.

In order to support the Rings, you had to oppose the only person you had ever loved unconditionally, and nothing hurt like that. Despite the pain, disruption, turmoil, the angst it put you and Elrond through, you did not waver in your opinion - but he did not relent in his stance, either.

That was usually a quality you adored in your husband; how stubborn, strong, enduring, passionate, educated, and unrelenting he was. Yet for this, you were beyond frustrated.

You remembered the look of utter betrayal in his eyes when he stormed away the day the Rings were all claimed by Círdan, Gil-Galad, and Galadriel. He couldn't look at you, on those stairs, opposing him and defending the Rings. So, he fled the scene - unable to hide how displeased, unhappy, and horrified he felt.

After that, the two of you began to bicker over simple, common, mundane, marital situations; he instigated fights, prolonged arguments, even lit purposeful fires to force you into verbal altercations. You argued endlessly, needlessly, heatedly about things that voices didn't need raised for. Tension followed you everywhere, filled every room, and after just a few nights... Elrond decided he couldn't sleep in your shared chambers any longer.

You had returned from duty to find him sending several cases of his personal belongings away, freezing when he realized you had caught him. He looked akin to a startled animal. "I did not mean for you to see this," he offered stiffly as if embarrassed, "I-I thought you were on patrol."

"I was switched to the nightshift," you explained meekly, watching servants stream from the room with their arms full of his desired effects. "W-What's going on? What're you doing?"

Elrond sighed, unable to meet your eyes for several long minutes. Then, he licked his lips, nodded, and told you, "I just figured, considering the state of affairs, we'd benefit - "

"Our marriage isn't an 'affair', Elrond!" You snapped, tears filling your eyes. "We're just in a strange state, couples are allowed to disagree, there's a lot unknown - "

"I can't stay here anymore, love, and watch how much I'm hurting you," his head shook. "You think you're silent, but I hear your weeping. I know you avoid coming to bed because I'm there first. You used to pin my robes in the morning, and now, I'm lucky if I even catch a glimpse of your skirt as you rush out the door as I wake. We're not happy anymore, Y/N..."

You froze, lungs shriveling into nothing, shock pumping into your system. "Yo-You're not happy?" You stuttered, stumbling back a couple steps as if he had brandished a sword.

Elrond just stared at you, asking, "Are you? Truly?"

"Generally, yes! I am certainly not so unhappy that I want us apart! This is just a difficult position we're in, but we will get past it, Elrond, we always do!"

"This isn't just a difficult position," he snapped, shocking you back another single step. "We're at odds, starshine, and I hate to admit it. But this is bigger than us, than our love - this is fundamental - "

"And about more than us! Yes! That's what I'm thinking of, Elrond, our people!"

"And what of Sauron? What of his influence upon the Rings!?"

"What of the good they've done? What of the connection?"

"What do you mean - "

"Galadriel!" You snapped. "The obvious connection the Ring amplifies within her! There is a grave new sense she and the other Ringer Bearers have. She can use this Ring to-to-to sense evil, perhaps even see ahead of the enemy! It might be his influence, but aren't we stronger? Stronger than him, together?"

"Those who wear the Rings - "

"You speak of your former mentor, the Elven High King, and your greatest friend. Which of them will you predict to fall?"

"After Galadriel’s already fallen prey - "

"But she is the wiser, the stronger for it! She is thrice as determined before! Why must these Rings divide us, Elrond? Why can we not simply say we leave all politics at the door when we are together?"

Sadly, slowly, he shuffled closer and reached out to caress your cheek. "I love you, my star," he reminded, "but in knowing your stance, I cannot allow us to continue being so destructive to each other. Support the Rings, my love," he lowered his forehead to yours, "but I cannot stand at your side while you do so... Not when I know of Sauron's influence..."

You pulled back, sniffling down the tears that surfaced to nod with a sarcastic smile. "I thought when we took our vows of matrimony, we'd hold true... But I can see, you do not intend to see us through this bog."

"That's where you're wrong," he snarled, stepping closer to hold both of your upper arms and jostle you slightly, "don't you see? Don't you understand? We need the space or we'll keep hurting one another, and I don't know if there's a way for us to heal after that. As of now, we stand a chance, but only if we curate distance - so we need to proceed individually as we need best."

His reasoning was logical, but you were beyond hurt by his departure. Perhaps it was for the best; especially when the High King decided to send a scouting party after Sauron, anointing Elrond as Commander, and upon the news, you panicked. Like, fully broke down in worried tears, alone. Yet you did not go to him, you did not speak out, you just accepted the High King's command and gathered in the courtyard with any other loved ones wishing the company safe travels.

Yet Elrond just looked at you sadly and lifted his hand in parting before turning to lead his comrades out of Lindon.

You shed a single tear as High King Gil-galad was felt at your flank, slowly entering your peripheral. "They have passed out of my sight," you informed him, voice trembling.

"I know of the strife between you and Commander Elrond..." the King trailed off, "But I would like to commend you for remaining a pillar in your belief. These Rings," he showed his, "are a power and force we do not yet understand in full."

"Perhaps, in time," you agreed, sniffling. "If you would excuse me, my King."

He agreed, letting you go; and all you could do was return to your chambers and throw yourself into your pillows for a good cry. After a single day or moping, you got up and got back to work; working with the other trusted advisors to devise battle strategies, evacuation plans, and whatever else you could do preemptively. You didn't know how long Elrond was gone for because after leaving your chambers, you scarcely saw him - something you suspect was on purpose. All you knew was that he was gone and you missed him.

"Sister!"

You looked up when Tinnriel, or Tinnie, rushed into the council room. "What's wrong?" You asked in alarm, straightening up to take her in arms.

"I-I saw - I saw Elrond - he's on his way here - "

"Slow down," you pleaded.

"Something's wrong!" She sneered at you, pushing your arms down. "I've been telling you for weeks! But you do not listen! To myself or your husband!"

"Oh, not this again, Tinnie, I've told you - "

"That it is paranoia, yes, I've heard you, but you and Elrond are at odds! That's not my paranoia! You two never feud, he's been gone days and now returns, looking worse for wear!"

"High King, I apologize for my sister's interruption - "

"She's not wrong," Gil-galad muttered, making you pause.

"My King?"

"You are not wrong, Tinnie," He addressed your sister, finding her eyes and holding her hostage by a single look, "for I have felt the darkness, too. There is something amiss, I will agree, but..."

"It is the Rings!" She insisted.

"Oh, not this again!" You snarled, seizing her upper arm. "Out! Now! You will still your tongue before the King!"

"High King!" You heard Elrond calling, rushing down the hall you were surging up. He spoke your name, "Where are you going?"

"To have a word - "

"This is much more important. Trust me, please! With me, now!" He breezed past you, but caught your free arm in his hold - pulling you after him and forcing you to release Tinnie. "High King," Elrond addressed as he lead you back into the room, your younger sister lingering in the doorway to listen, "the Orcs are not in Mordor."

"Elrond, our reports - "

"We've encountered them!" Elrond cut you off, making you silence yourself out of sheer curiosity; not accustomed to seeing him so disheveled and manic... So authoritative. "A legion of them are headed for Eregion." He pulled out Nenya, showing the King, "My wife and Galadriel were right! They were right! You must send the army to Eregion this moment."

Your head bowed in disappointment, wishing beyond wishful thought that you had been gifted with foresight - then you could've seen this, withheld the Elven Armies from marching to Mordor, been better prepared. Elrond noted your silence first, ready to question you, when the High King stiffly informed, "That will not be possible. I have reason to believe that Sauron is the architect of all this."

Choosing his words carefully, Elrond argued slightly, "High King, Eregion is the very jewel of Elvendom. If it were to fall, it would be a mortal blow for all in Middle-earth. You must send aid!"

"Our armies cannot defeat both Adar and Sauron. Not alone."

Something clicked in your mind, straightening up and taking hold of Elrond's arm. You bowed your head in agreement, "Of course, High King, we understand. Allow me the day to catch my husband up on recent events, we might reconvene later - "

"I shall send for you when a decision has been made," Gil-galad waved off, you all but shoving Elrond from the room; almost tripping over Tinnie.

"Go, go, go, just go," you muttered to the two in Sindarin, releasing Elrond's arm - surprise coloring your features when he snatched your hand into his. Yet you did not comment. At the end of the hall, you halted them both, being aware of the stationed guards, keeping your voice low, "Tinnie, go attend to the rest of Commander Elrond's company. I imagine they'll need food, rest, perhaps aid?"

"Camnir was shot with an arrow..." Elrond muttered, "But Galadriel healed him."

"How?" Tinnie squeaked.

"Nenya... I saw it myself..."

You sighed, "Tinnie, please?"

She nodded, "Shall I speak to them?"

"They will want to give their account, please take record for the King," you instructed, Elrond's hand tightening in yours almost unconsciously.

"What're you going to do?"

"Speak with my husband," you sighed.

"No, I mean... If you and Galadriel were right, if the Orcs are marching on Eregion... What're you going to do?"

"We have much to discuss before a decision can be made," Elrond told her, tone hardened, "now, please, Tinnie, go."

Tinnie noticed the darker, deeper baritone to his voice and instantly nodded and scurried away towards the front gates. "How far back did you leave your company?" You asked softly, watching the last of Tinnie's skirts sweep around the corner.

"Far enough. Come," he directed, turning to start down the pathway; leading you towards the quarters you once shared. Yet before you could enter, you reared back; yanking his hand, his concerned expression turning down in gentle aggravation. "What's the matter?" He asked.

"You don't live here anymore."

Elrond heaved a great sigh, turning to you, "Truly? You wish to do this now?"

"For weeks, you've picked arguments. You've been combative, irritable, spiteful. You... You chose a ring over me - "

"That's not true - "

"How would you phrase it then!?"

"I chose ethics! Morality! You chose a Ring of Power, not just a ring!" He barked at you, both cracking under the pressure the Ring had subjected your marriage to.

"And look where it lead! You come storming in, declaring Galadriel and I are right to the High King, and now... Now it sounds as if you still defend your decision!"

"I do."

You shook off his grip, "Then perhaps we might find somewhere more neutral to discuss matters?"

Elrond heaved a sigh, "What's wrong with our rooms - your rooms? What's wrong with your rooms?"

"Exactly that, they're mine. Not ours. It seems, no matter where I look, I am reminded that my husband didn't love me enough - "

"Don't you ever say that again!" Elrond snarled, leering over you; back to a bannister, bending you back slightly as you refused to back down - keeping him in front of you. He was heaving for breath, body trembling; proximity allowing you to count the pores clogged by dirt, blood, and grime. "You may hold all the anger you wish, but never accuse me of something so heinous, impossible, untrue. So unfathomable."

"Then prove me wrong!" You fired back, shoving at his abdomen to force him back a step so you could righten yourself off the bannister. "You proved to me your anger, now prove your love! Your remorse! Show me an apology, do not just say it! You looked at me with such hate, Elrond, and you left our rooms, you left me - over a matter of opinion! Do you know what that felt like? What pain that caused? You swore to me - "

"I know what our vows were!" He snapped, tears tinging his eyes red; the air hot between your mouths as you both seethed in anger. "I know what we promised, but never did I think Sauron would return, let alone offer such threat!"

"I am beginning to think you are angry about something else! Is it Galadriel - "

"It's me!"

You were startled into silence, his voice echoing down the hall as his facial expression turned angry. Elrond turned from you to pace himself in a semi-circle, and for whatever reason, you softly questioned, "Where's your cloak?"

"What?" Elrond scoffed, having created distance that you closed to lay your hand on his bicep.

"Your father's cloak, Elrond, where is it?"

"I do not know - I don't..." His head shook, looking annoyed with himself. So, you sighed and nodded, dropped your hand to his and laced your fingers together before leading him into your quarters. "Don't - "

"Just come in," you nudged his shoulder, encouraging him into the room as you shut the doors and drew all curtains to keep your conversation private. You locked the main doors.

"You rearranged?" He noted, stalking around the room; slotting himself between furniture as he silently judged it all.

"Just trying something new, I can't sleep most nights and need something to occupy my mind," you explained, shutting the balcony doors, too. With a sigh, you spun on the spot and implored, "What did you mean, Elrond, when I questioned what you were angry about and said it's you? Please, talk to me. We did not talk about Nenya, and now..." You sighed deeply.

Elrond seemingly remembered he still had the Ring, looking at it in his flat palm with what you could only describe as terror. His eyes lifted to yours, asking, "Do you have a chain?"

With a nod, you ventured to your personal jewelry box and located a glittering braided chain; approaching him to gently drop it in a coiled pile beside Nenya. His hand shook, hating the feeling of the Ring... So, you gently took his hand to steady it and asked, "Tell me what you meant."

Elrond watched you thread the Ring onto the chain. "You're right, thinking my anger is sourced elsewhere... It's not Galadriel, per se - though, I am angry, for varying reasons. But it's me - I'm angry at myself."

"Why?"

"I did not see..."

You lifted the two ends of the chain slowly to his chest, but when he flinched, you reminded, "Galadriel entrusted it to you, nobody else should keep it." He nodded in acceptance, so, you lifted the necklace again, asking, "What didn't you see, Elrond?"

"Halbrand... While in Eregion, making the Rings, he helped Lord Celebrimbor and I, it was... He was there the whole time... So very present, innocent - feigning a King of Men - "

"Halbrand is Sauron."

"He is," Elrond confirmed, "and I did not see it."

"You are angry Sauron the Deceiver deceived you!?" You gaped, hooking the chain and retracting your arms. "Elrond, do you hear yourself? You are victim, none of you knew!"

"But the Rings - they work! You were right!"

"Elrond - "

"It's why I'm angry," he admitted, "because the Rings work, I've seen it, but also because I did not see Sauron for who he was."

"None of us did," you whispered, seeing the struggle behind his eyes.

"I couldn't protect them, either."

"Who?"

"Well, now, none of us - but Lord Celebrimbor and Galadriel specifically; they were with us, with Sauron. I..." He sighed deeply, "I did not see, now we all suffer - "

"We do not suffer, we are fighting back," you cut him off now, his sad eyes finding yours. "And you, our Commander, because you alone feel responsible for our entire salvation. You will lead us, Elrond," his head shook in refusal, making you insist, "no, listen - hear my words. You will lead our people, command legions of Elves, because you have proven strong and determined enough. Since you realized the truth of Sauron, you have fought tooth and nail for the rest of us - even me, you fought me - to see the truth. We have all been blinded, deceived, and now, we all must fight, but trust that the Rings... With the darkness they bring, they must also bring light - it is not just Sauron alone in them, but you all. Which means, in the grandest scheme, all your good overpowers Sauron's bad - proven by the Light of the Valar returning. By Camnir's rescue."

"I fought..." He whispered, reaching for your face - neither of you moving away, wanting the comfort, "At a time my words were needed most. And now, it's too late."

"It's never too late, Elrond, or have you not been paying attention?" You chortled lightly, sighing as you pet over his tunic; manicured nails gently fiddling with Nenya in admiration as it glimmered in the candlelight. "I... Had an idea I want your opinion on. Born of the High King's decision to send he army to Morodor..."

He nodded, stepping closer so his hand fully caressed your cheek and slid to hold the back of your neck. "Speak it," he whispered, "tell your Commander."

You could not repress the shiver of attraction even if you tried. He leered over you, holding you tenderly, close, pressing you closer as his eyes dared you to lose your train of thought. "We seek help... From the Dwarves, from Prince Durin," you whispered, "for they hold Sauron's Rings, they will need our aid in time - we just need theirs first."

"You would have me go above our King?"

"I would have you lead us, Commander."

Elrond smirked slightly, free arm coiling around your waist to hoist you into his embrace. "Something sounds as if you... Like this new position of mine?"

"It suits you - authority, I mean."

"Oh?"

"Being decisive," you listed as Elrond moved forward, walking you backward, "assertive, argumentative... It's a good look."

"Then are you ready to listen to your Commander?"

"At once, sir."

He paused you, lips hovering over yours; demanding of your ears only, "Strip."

"My Lord - "

"Aht," he tutted, pulling back; leaving you cemented in place.

"Commander," you amended, watching him nod subtly. Slowly, your hands lifted to start unlacing your corset; his eyes dark and concentrated, watching each movement you made. Elrond stood with his shoulders squared, hands clasped in front of him, feet spread apart; ensuring you were operating to his level of completion.

"All of it," he told you when down to your small clothes; pausing your venture onto the bed behind you.

So, you stripped those off, too. He nodded in approval, watching you teasingly turn to crawl onto the bed and settle in the middle of the mattress - facing him. Elrond's eyes locked with yours, only straying when your legs slowly spread to reveal your sweetest point for his viewing pleasure. His shoulders heaved upward as he drew in breath, lifting his chin, eyes darting around to note the speckling of honey collecting between your legs.

"Touch yourself," Elrond demanded, reaching for his weapons belt and unhooking it.

"Where, Commander?"

He smirked and simply repeated, "Touch. Yourself. If you can't take direction..."

You didn't question him again, watching him slowly unlatch the belts and hooks of his uniform; deft fingers rubbing through your wetness as others came up to pinch your nipple and roll the bud. Elrond shed his boots, discarding them to the side; tunics yanked from his bare torso, leaving the glittering jewelry around his neck. A moan escaped as you dipped your fingers within your cunt as Elrond ripped his trousers open - then paused. He admired the sight of you splayed out, both hands at work, watching him undress.

In Sindarin, Elrond questioned, "Are we still at odds, my starlight?"

You whined, replying, "If you're not inside me in the next minute, Commander, we will be."

Elrond chuckled and shucked his trousers from his hips, down his thighs, then stepping out of them. "Do you forgive me, my star?"

"Nothing to forgive."

"Don't feed me that," he reprimanded, stepping up to mount the bed; his own hand beginning to fondle his reddening cock, stroking himself to straining life. "I have wronged you and your Commander intends to show he is remorseful. Tell him how."

"Move back in," you pleaded, reaching for him as he allowed himself to hover over you, "and do not leave me - not again."

His breath exhaled against your lips, settling to lay against you while a single leg bent to secure his hips on yours. "Never," Elrond agreed, "but I'll need to hear you say it."

"Is that a command?"

Elrond smirked and lined himself up to notch his cockhead at your cunt's mouth; sinking in as he answered, "Of course, it is." You gasped and slapped a hand up to hold his flushing neck, mouth wide at the familiar sting; public hair grinding together as his balls pinned between you, cock fully sheathed. "You've been given a command, my star," he grunted in your ear, "don't disappoint your Commander now."

Like all Elves, your ears had increased sensitivity; creating a legion of goose flesh to shoot across your flesh. Without breath, you affirmed in his ear, "I-I forgive you - fuck - I forgive you, my love. Don't leave me," you whimpered, "and I forgive you."

"What side do you remain?"

You whined, "Yours, yours, my husband, I remain on your side, Commander."

"And will you obey your Commander?"

"Until the end," you nodded, his lips finally findings yours. A sharp whimper ripped from your lungs as Elrond retracted his hips, thrusting into you at his own set, even pace; lips messily sliding against each other from tongues and spit. "You were gone too long," you managed to whisper.

"We won't be apart that long again," he grit, grunting as he held your thigh in a bruising-grip, "I swear it - "

"You can't - "

"I swear it," he gnashed your bottom lip between his teeth, making you gasp in pain and shock before moaning when he suckled at the mark. Softly, he released your lips, whispering, "I promise, we won't be. We go together from now on."

Nenya dangled between you, tracing around your chest from his aggressive thrusting; you agreeing with a nod, "Together."

"Now," Elrond grunted, "'M not gonna last, pet, gonna need you t'cum with me - together."

"Yes, Commander," you moaned, seeing the way his eyes fluttered; cheeks, neck, and ears blushing bright as his orgasm mounted, trying in vain to hold back. Seeing the almost involuntary reaction your words caused, your hand found Elrond's cheek and directed his eyes to yours, encouraging, "I'm so close, Commander, you make me feel so good, so full, it's been so long - too long! I'm right there, my love, my Commander, please - "

"Ah," Elrond hissed through his teeth, "yes, love, I'm there, too; right there, right there - "

"Cum in me... That's a command, Commander," you demanded in his ear, and it was all that was wrote. Elrond bucked wildly his last few thrusts, pinning you to the mattress; your own orgasm triggered by the flooding of warmth filling your too-empty womb.

"O-Oh," he stuttered, humping into you in languid thrusts before slowing to a shivering halt. You watched Elrond try to regulate his breathing, wrapping your arms around him in an instant to bring him in close; resting him on your chest while your one arm wrapped around him, the other threading into his curls. "I love you," he whispered into your flesh.

"I love you, too," you affirmed. Then, while toying with the sweat-curled ringlets of his hair, you mused softly, "You need a cut."

"You told me for years to grow it out, now you want me to cut it?"

"No, I don't want you to; I just know, you prefer a cleaner crop."

"I've... Grown fond of the look."

You smirked, "That is relieving to hear."

Elrond sighed and slowly lifted off you; only enough to help maneuver you so he didn't have to pullout of your cunt but could still hold you as the big spoon. "So... Prince Durin, is it?" He asked in your ear.

You smirked, "Why not? He is a friend, his father wields a Ring of Power... He would more incentive to help than others. And the Dwarves are formidable in battle, it could help turn the tides, by uniting the Free Peoples of Middle-earth. Elf, Dwarf, Man..."

"What alliance of Men would - "

"We do not speak of Men, we speak of Prince Durin," you reminded him; his face nuzzling into your neck. "I think you should go in person. To plead the severity of our situation, how dire the need for aid is. To convey our desperation."

"The High King - "

"Leave him to me," you insisted, holding his arms around you. "I know we just agreed to not part ways, but you need to parlay with Prince Durin and I will keep Gil-galad at bay. When Durin agrees to march to our aid in Eregion, we march our remaining forces against Adar and meet the Dwarves on the field."

"It sounds good..."

"But?"

"Is it possible?"

"We will have to work in tandem, but I would assume the King would not argue asking for aid. I'll inform him of your departure and intention after you've left."

His arms tightened, "We can speak of it more later. I just want to feel you in my arms - it's been too long."

"You will hear no such complaints from me."

After a moment, where you both spent it resettling and nuzzling into the peaceful silence, Elrond asked, "Do you... Do you think one of the company managed to find and grab my cloak?"

In amusement, you replied, "Oh, I'm sure."

"And that Tinnie would have it?"

"Knowing her, by now, surely," you mused, reaching up to pet his cheek; requesting, "now, I have gone too long without the feeling of you beside me and wish to rest."

"As you command, my love."

requesting rules and masterlist

TROP masterlist

[morganas-pendragons]

sweet and soft | elrond peredhel

okay LISTEN

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

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

enjoy!

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[curiouser--and--curiouser]

Elrond Peredhel A-Z Smut Headcanons

Kinktober 2024 - Week 1

Warnings: SMUT, switch!Elrond, dom/sub dynamics, rough sex, cum, anal play, toys, dirty talk, etc., x reader, gender neutral reader

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Such a sweet and attentive boy. Elrond is immediately up on his feet, getting whatever you may desire. Especially if you'd just had a more rough session, he would always double check he didn't hurt you and pamper you. Definitely his body's last hurrah before he eventually falls asleep in your arms.

On the flip side, if you'd taken control for the evening, he would be so appreciative of you taking care of him while he stared at you with loving, glassy eyes, bringing him back down to earth.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Elrond likes (how much you like) his hands. They are the link between his mind and the page as a herald, and the thing to make you truly fall apart. Some of his favourite memories feature him crowding you against a wall with his fingers inside you, gently shushing you so you are not caught.

On you, Elrond always comes back to your hips. Stroking them, grabbing them, kissing up and down them. His hands are always at your hips: to manhandle your pliant body into a new position, or just hanging on for dear life as you make him lose his mind.

Also, just a quick point about Elven ears generally: definitely a major erogenous zone for all elves, so if you even lightly brush your lips against his ears, Elrond is ready to give his soul to you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

I think he actually sees it as a sign of connection between you both. Either cumming inside of you and mixing his with your own, or spilling all over both you and himself, he just can't help but stare down between you while trying to catch his breath.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

The first time he ordered you to ride his thigh, he came in his pants. The sight of you getting yourself off on him, the power he had over you - it was too much for him. He tried his best to hide it as you were coming down from your own high.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Elven life is so long, so Elrond is undoubtedly fairly experienced, having a fair share of elves and mortals lured by his charm and good looks. But I feel he may not have ever been as experimental as he may have fantasised of late at night, stroking his cock at great pace. However, despite his long life, Elrond had never loved someone so much as you; he is slightly stunned the first time you make love, forgetting for a moment what to do and where to put his hands.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Below you. In awe. Watching you. Seeing you in control in any situation does things to him, and you on top of him, riding him, controlling him, choking him, makes him lose his mind. Nowhere in the whole of Valinor does Elrond expect to see something quite as beautiful as you over him with your head thrown back in pleasure. All he can do is wrap himself around you and hold on.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Elrond can go both ways. He can be all cute smiles and giggling, all in your own little world. Or deadly serious, purely focussed on you and the love you share.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I don't believe he is completely shaven, but the small amount of curly hair that is there is very nicely kept and groomed.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Such a hopeless romantic. The first time, he decked out his rooms with rose petals, dimmed lights, silk sheets - everything to give you the most pleasurable and intimate experience for your first time together.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He would always just prefer to find you. But if he is ever away on a mission for Lindon, Elrond can't help but spend nearly every night one hand fisting his cock and the other covering his mouth, muffling his moans and whimpers. He will always take a reminder of you with him, and it stays firmly between his lips when he dreams of feeling your touch again.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

First and foremost, Elrond is a switch - he is overwhelmed the moment you stand over him and use an authoritative tone, but can have you in a puddle on the floor with once single command.

Hair pulling - those beautiful curly locks are too gorgeous to not run your fingers through and grab, and it makes Elrond's eyes roll back in his head every time. And if you ever pull him by his hair, either back to your lips or back to his work under the covers, he's going to cum right then and there.

Face sitting - Elrond would die a happy man, suffocated between your thighs. Nothing is too much for him - he just wants to do good for you - so give him all you've got and watch him buck his hips up and rut against the air like an animal.

Commander kink - need I say more? You were there when Gil-galad ordained him Commander Elrond, and the name immediately went straight through you - and he noticed. Now, he will do barely anything until you have sufficiently begged your commander to keep moving, before he finally slams into you with a power you never thought he could possess.

Overstimulation - it doesn't come out often, but when he is angry with you - and you can't help but fight back - Elrond has no choice but to teach you a lesson. Soon, he has you on his lap, your back to his chest, fingering you harshly as you cum over and over and over again. And he just keeps going, even as your head lolls back over his shoulder.

"Come on, baby, one more. Just give me one more. I want to hear those beautiful moans again. Look at you, finally being so good for your commander."

"Yes, Sir."

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Sometimes the simplest is the best: in the confines of your shared rooms and marriage bed, you can take all the time you might desire with each other, completely uninterrupted and focussed on each other. Otherwise, he loves to spend a day with you in the woods; take a picnic, sing to you, and make love to you under the canopy of trees.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You. Just the sight of you. Also, pretty sure Elrond has a competency kink. Seeing you working and succeeding and leading really makes him weak and submissive. And for any little doubts and anxieties that may crawl there way into his mind, just simply knowing you want him, and only him, really frees his soul.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

I don't believe Elrond would ever be into impact play. He may sometimes grab you with hard hands and leave bruises on your hips, but he would never intentionally hurt you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Elrond is without a doubt a skilled and enthusiastic lover. At any possible opportunity, he will go down on you (or otherwise beg to) and how could you say no to him? His tongue was moulded by the Valar themselves just for you and his eyes close in pleasure as he plays your every string like a lute. Also, he has no gag reflex.

On the other hand, Elrond absolutely loses his mind when you suck him off. He is so overwhelmed and can barely breathe. Definitely when you surprise him by undoing his pants and distract him from work at his desk. And definitely when he stands before you, you on your knees, tears streaming down your face, taking everything he gives you.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Elrond has a lot of energy, so he can't help but use it sometimes, pounding into you with his lips connected to your neck. But his roughest side comes out when he is stressed from work or angry with the world, your face pushed into the pillows and body pinned to the bed as he takes you in whichever dark way he may desire. If he is in more of a romantic mood, he takes it slower, deeper, more sensual, wrapped up in each other's bodies. Usually slow and sensual, but loses his mind sometimes.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He always needs you, so whenever and wherever possible. In great hallways in between his meetings with the King, pushed up against the wall (something he had been thinking of doing the entire meeting beforehand. In the gardens in a little secluded corner you know, shushing each other to be quiet between giggles and low moans.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

If he isn't busy with work, Elrond is always down for a quickie. So, you have both taken a lot of risks in your time with regard to location. He was a bit cautious when you first got together about experimentation, but he has become (very) open with time. Elrond just wants to make you happy, and he will do nearly anything to make that happen.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Elves, y'all… The lot of them have the stamina of the Valar, so you happen to be of a race with any less endurance, then good luck… Elrond is no different: bouncing with boundless energy, ready to go again with very little rest time. He can go all night long. Insatiable.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I don't believe his own personal collection would be vast before getting together with you; his primary possession a small metal vibe he teases himself with to thoughts of you. However, he is excited to delve into your own collection, eager to find out what you like and don't like, and which he could persuade you to use on him. He never expected he would ever react like this, but the moment you mentioned it, it lit a fire in him... and so did those nipple clamps he found at the bottom of your box.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He dishes it out but he can't take it. You really both drive each other insane. Private whispers of dirty promises just before he is called away by Gil-galad, or intentionally low-cut robes that make him choke on air when you bend over - you are both insufferable.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He's so loud, he just can't help himself. He gets lost in you and your body that he sometimes forgets he's making noises at all. Loud moans all the time, and delicate whimpers when you climb on top of him. But this transforms into low, feral growls when he is jealous or angry, his animalistic and possessive side coming out. Also, no one in the whole of Middle Earth can stop this man's constant dirty talk whispered in your ear.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I don't think Elrond had done a lot of anal play before meeting you. He had experiemented with himself, fingering himself with breathless gasps in the confines of his chambers. But never particularly with other people; he had always been more of a giver than a taker. It intrigued him, and you helped to bring him into the light. You started slow, trying to relax his nervous trembling, but soon he was thrusting back against you or the toy, eyes glossed over as you hit the just the right spot again and again. Now, it is a frequent feature of your nightlife together, where he can embrace his little subby side and let go to complete pleasure.

"Please, my love, more, I need more. Fuck. I need you so bad, please give me more, I can take it. I love you. Please."

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He is not the longest, but has a fair girth and is slightly curved up in just the right way to make you see stars.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

High. Definitely high. He's so in love. He will physically tell himself to calm it before meetings with the High King (more frequently than he'd like to admit), and then he is able to stay focussed on the job at hand. But when he is writing speeches - and ultimately calm in his beloved art - he can start to feel his mind wandering to you. All the strength in his body is needed to make sure all his work is finished before running off to find you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Once he has taken of you thoroughly, Elrond gets very sleepy. He tries his best to engage in pillow talk with you, but soon his eyes start to flutter close - not without them leaving your beautiful face.

[sun-snatcher]

Your take of Círdan being an old man who enjoys pestering people is my absolute fave bc yeah if I was the oldest elf alive I'd be a little shit half the time too for funzies

( credits to the lovely @peregrintook for this beautiful gifset ! )

✵ — WATER-DAMAGED!

summ.  Elrond arrives at Círdan’s workshop. He finds his heart instead. or:  The Herald and the Artisan fall in love. pairing.  elrond peredhel / f!reader  w.count.  1.2k (a lil baby!) a/n.  set in s2e1, friends-to-lovers kinda , fluff galore , mutual pining , Círdan being a thirdwheel (but highkey enjoying it because he’s a little shit like that)

       YOU’RE QUICK TO attempt to bundle Elrond up like a child when he’d arrived. 

Frantic, almost, at the sight of Lindon’s renowned Herald— drenched to the bone, head-to-toe, and dripping river water from his mess of curls, leaving puddles and a wet track wherever he went on the stone of the workshop.

“He’s not here yet,” is what you’d said, when he’d urged you for Master Círdan. The shipwright had gone off to appraise proper timber for the frames of the vessels prepared for Valinor, now that High King Gil-Galad has decreed preparations to set sail. 

“But he should return by nightfall, latest. So will you please sit down, Elr—”

“I cannot,” he overrides, wholly unconvincing through the chatter of his teeth. “You’ll be at risk if I stay.”

You blink. “…From who?”

“I—”

In the distance, a horse whinnies. 

Elrond tenses instantly.

“…Are you— hiding?” you realise, as he springs to his feet to make headway for the sidedoors. “Elrond, wait!”

“Thank you, truly, for your kindness, but I cannot allow the King’s Guard—”

“That was just Silef,” you say incredulously, muscling the door back shut and stubbornly standing in his way. ��My mare, remember? From the stables just uphill?” 

A pause. 

He listens with pricked ears: gates of a stable door squeaking; hooves clopping from paddock ground onto pasture grass; the sound of grain and feed being chewed on, after a moment's pass. A notable absence of marching Elven armour and feet stamping its way downhill towards him. 

Just Silef. You’re right. He’d been paranoid. 

“Á quildessë, Elrond,” comes your quiet voice, gentler now as you chase to meet his anxious gaze. “I will make sure no one comes into this workshop, unless it’s Master Círdan himself,” you assure, resting your hands on his forearms. “Just please, sit down. You’re shaking.” 

…He is. He hadn’t even realised. 

It might have been adrenaline, or the bite of the cold from wind and water— but he’s trembling, nonetheless, like a leaf. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, much, much later, when you’d stoked the coals of the workshop hearth to life, and set him upon a wooden seat beside it.

From the open foyer of the atelier, the sea-reflected hues of the setting sun does little to hide the tentative worry in your features. Your voice is as gentle as the lap of tidewater. “There’s nothing to apologise for.”

“I shouldn’t have… barged in.” 

I shouldn’t have involved you in the first place, and put you at risk for treason for harboring a dissenter.

The firelight paints your face in soft, flickering licks of ochre as you tenderly dry off the dampness in his hair, the water trickling down his face. “You were afraid,” you reason generously.

(You don’t tell him that he looks adorably… pitiful. With eyes like that of a kicked puppy, almost. Even worse that he looks half-drowned.)

Elrond doesn’t argue. You’ve always been a kind friend to him. So, so kind. Ever-ready and steadfast to extend an olive branch, impervious to tactlessness, or even offence, from the sheer tenacity of your patience. Elrond has always admired you for it. Elrond has always—

Liked you. Cared. Loved.

(Too much to allow himself to let you get caught in this tangle he’s been forced into.)

He lays a hand over yours, and you pause mid-wipe of a droplet down his lined jaw. His eyes are shut briefly, as if falling into the comfort of your touch— candid indulgence. It makes your heart stutter.

That you’re allowed a quiet moment to admire him this close, so much so you can see the rings of sundering blue in his eyes; or to touch him this affectionately, so much so you could feel the very change of temperature on his skin— 

You think you’ve been blessed with a handsome vision by the Valar themselves.

“You must be curious,” he says, voice a low murmur. His palm swallows yours entirely. His fingers are warm by now. (You shouldn’t notice such details— but you do. You’re an artisan, after all. Or perhaps hopeless romantic is a better suited term?) “But this is beyond even me.”

He slides your hand down, much to your dismay, and uncurls the pouch he’s been clutching onto since he arrived. Now that it’s infront of you, there’s a pull to it you can’t quite understand.

You reach, almost too keenly— 

—but you close his fingers around it instead.

If Elrond had shown any surprise, you didn’t notice. 

“Must be why you’ve sought out Master Círdan,” you muse, looking up at him. “If it’s beyond you, it’s most certainly beyond me, a mere shipwright’s apprentice.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” Elrond adds quickly, realising how he must have come across. 

“I know,” you laugh, before he can take off into a tangent. (It’s bright and musical to Elrond’s ears— thinks if he could drown in its sound, he would have done so willingly.) “You forget I know you.”

Not entirely, he doesn’t say. You don’t know how much my heart sings to be near you. How much your presence— or the very thought of you, even— have always brought comfort to me. 

You don’t know how much I’ve been resisting the urge to kiss you since you first sat me down by the fire.

He feels a little smile coming, the kind he couldn’t help, that would light his whole face whenever he cast his gaze on you. “You do, don’t you?” he whispers, voice sinking into something almost— nostalgic, at the sudden unravelling of old memories shared with you throughout the age.

“Well, when it comes to Kingdom politicians…” you shrug teasingly. “As much as I’m allowed to be privy to.”

He barely laughs, too busy looking at you with rapt, reverent attention. It curls a timidness in your heart. “You are allowed all of me. Always.”

Something takes wing in your chest. Butterflies, maybe. Doves taking flight in your ribcage. 

As are you, to me.

At least, that's what you would’ve said, had your ears not caught the distant clop of hooves headed downwind towards the river edge. “Master Círdan is here,” you say instead, diverted. You recognise the huff of his steed anywhere.

You watch Elrond perk up and tune into the approach: the rustle of saddle and stirrups, the shuffle of robes and footsteps. When the doors squeak open and shut, the Kingdom’s shipwright finds the Kingdom’s herald standing in the heart of his own workshop.

“Elrond,” he says, by way of greeting. There’s naught a hint of surprise in his voice— Círdan had felt a call louder than the sea long before he’d arrived, and now he can understand it’s carried in the herald’s charge. “Have you come to seek a certain apprentice of mine?” he asks, regardless.

It’s playful. Knowing.

“He seeks you, Master Círdan,” you answer politely, rounding from the corner where you’d grabbed your spare pelerine cloak to pass to Elrond. “Here, to keep warm.”

“Thank you.”

You bow your head to them both. “I shall be at the lighthouse just across.”

Your fingertips brush against Elrond’s hand as you leave. It tarries; merely a millisecond— enough, however, for Círdan’s keen eyes to catch— before he watches you depart through the sidedoors to give them the privacy they needed. 

Elrond's hand flexes reflexively. Longingly.

A beat passes.

“…Are you sure it is still me you seek?” Círdan muses, brows shot to his hairline.

The tips of Elrond’s ears burn. 

[vaile-elenya]

listen... i have been thinking a lot about this post:

i don't know what it is exactly, but something about a frustrated Elrond almost yelling out, still gently, that he'd live for his love instead of dying for it, is very very touching for me.

last night i might have gotten a bit carried away, and i wrote a little something about that. it's my very first shot at writing a fanfic of my own so please bear with me!

it's under the break and on AO3 if anyone wants to read 🫶🏻

In the twilight of Imladris, as the stars began their nightly vigil, you stood on the balcony of Elrond’s chamber, your heart heavy with frustration and hurt. The air was cool and fragrant with the scent of evening blooms, but tonight, the beauty of the valley seemed distant, overshadowed by the turmoil within.

Elrond stood a few paces away, his serene demeanor a stark contrast to the storm that brewed in your soul. The gentle sound of the Bruinen river, usually a source of comfort, now seemed to mock the tension between you.

“Do you truly hold me in such low regard?” you challenged, your voice trembling with emotion. “Am I of such little consequence to you that you can remain unmoved as I bare my soul?”

Elrond’s eyes widened, a flicker of pain crossing his usually composed features. “You misunderstand me,” he began, his voice steady but tinged with sorrow.

“No, I understand all too well,” you interrupted, your words cutting like a sharpened blade. “You, with your timeless wisdom and boundless patience, have already revealed your true feelings. I ask again: would you be willing to lay down your life for me, for all of us, or does fear restrain you?”

For a moment, there was silence, the air thick with the weight of unspoken truths. Then, as if a dam had broken, Elrond’s composure shattered. His eyes filled with unshed tears, his voice rising in desperation. How could you not see? How could you not know that every moment with you was etched into his very soul? He could no longer hold back the torrent of emotions.

“To die for love is simple!” he nearly screamed, his voice carrying the weight of centuries of longing and regret. “A brief surrender of mortal coil to the embrace of eternity,” he added while the soft moonlight cast shadows upon his features, accentuating the lines of sorrow etched upon his noble visage.

“But to live, to truly live, is so much greater! For you, I would live instead of die,” he looked at you, his gaze piercing through your soul, laying bare his raw emotions. You felt the depth of his admission, each syllable heavy with the burden of his unspoken devotion, and the stars above seemed to shine brighter, as if bearing witness to his words.

“Do you not see the love, as brilliant as the leaves of Laurelin, that shines forth from my eyes each time I cast them upon you?” he asked desperately, on the edge of weeping. Elrond’s voice cracked, his eyes brimming with sorrow. “Are you blinded to it?”

Not awaiting your response, Elrond turned his gaze towards the lofty trees, their branches murmuring in the gentle breeze. As the night deepened, Imladris lay shrouded in a serene glow, its gardens veiled in shadows that swayed gently in the flickering dance of firelight and the soft embrace of starlight. The fading remnants of daylight whispered their farewell, surrendering to the celestial canvas unfurling above, adorned with the sparkling jewels of the heavens. The tranquility of the valley belied the weight of its history, a history that Elrond bore witness to through the ages. Memories of battles fought, kingdoms risen and fallen, and the relentless march of time haunted his thoughts.

Torches blazed brightly, casting dancing shadows upon the ancient stone, their fiery tongues licking at the velvety darkness with a fierce determination as Elrond’s mind drifted back to the tumultuous events of the Second Age, a time of great upheaval and sorrow.

“I have seen the glory of Númenor crumble beneath the weight of its own pride. Powerless I have stood as the Last Alliance marched to the very gates of Mordor, and I have borne witness to evils so immense that even the stoutest of our warriors could not withstand them,” he said, desperation building in his voice; his silvery eyes now shone with something you could not decipher. “I have gazed into the eyes of death countless times, her blades twisting within the depths of my wounded heart. So many of my kin have I lost to the ravages of war, their lives laid to rest in pursuit of a noble yet hopeless cause,” he took a step closer, his face now inches away from your own. “It is not the fear of death that prevents me from yielding to its embrace for you, meleth nîn.”

“You awaken within me the very spirit of endurance that Eru bestowed upon his children,” he paused, his gaze turning towards the fire illuminating the terrace. “A spirit that has waned over the long ages of my dwelling, and yet... your mere existence rekindles it.

“In your presence, I find a light that guides me, a reason to embrace each new dawn. My heart, though burdened with the weight of ages, finds solace and renewal in your faintest smile. To live for you is not a burden but a blessing, a path I would tread willingly, every day anew.”

Elrond’s hands delicately encompassed your face, and you felt the gentle pressure of his fingertips, each point of contact a deliberate caress. There was a steadiness to his touch, a silent reassurance as if he sought to convey a message that words alone could not express.

“For you I would find joy in the simple pleasures that weave the intricate tapestry of our days. Through the darkest of hours, I shall cling onto hope, tending to each seedling of kindness as a gardener tends to his beloved blossoms. For you, I would dive willingly into that terrifying inkwell known as existence, with all its uncertainties and fears.”

“I would live for you.”

[the-fiction-witch]

After Dinner

Media - Rings Of Power Character - Elrond Couple - Elrond X Reader Reader - Y/n (wife) Rating - 18 + kissing/ nudity/ Word Count - 596

Elrond and Y/n arrived back at their elegant home in Lindon, a sense of contentment lingering from the memorable and eventful dinner with the high king, Prince Durin, and themselves. The clock had struck late, and the tranquil night was alive with the gentle flickering of fireflies in the garden just beyond their balcony. Y/n gracefully approached her ornate mirror, the soft glow of the moonlight illuminating her features, and began the meticulous task of unravelling her long, lustrous curls from the meticulously crafted, jewel-encrusted updo she had fashioned for the esteemed royal gathering. With each delicate movement, her hair cascaded down her shoulders, the jewels glinting in the moonlight as they were carefully removed.

Elrond came up behind her and began massaging her shoulders. He worked out the tension there and began his hands slipping down and unlacing her gown.

she chuckled rather amused, "Yes?" She raised her eyebrow looking at him in her mirror

he leaned over her shoulder and nipped at her neck. “You looked so beautiful tonight,” he murmured against her skin. His hands continued to work, stripping her gown from her body then slipped inside and caressed the soft skin beneath. His lips trailed over her shoulder, down her back, his hands caressing her waist.

"Well I wanted to look nice. Not everyday we get to have dinner with the king. Much less so with Durin." She explained as she worked allowing him to work on her gown as it gave her one less task to do,

he reached down and finished untied the laces, the dress pooling around her feet. He pressed into her, his hands pulling her hips back against his, molding her body against his. All of her bare flesh against his still clothed body, “And you did.” he breathed against her neck, burying his face against her skin, inhaling her

when the dress and slip hit the floor she was bare but her star necklace that she’d worn since their wedding, "Did I do something to arouse such attention?" She chuckled,

he chuckled when he saw it still around her neck

Hardly. he replied, his hands roaming her body, tracing her curves. He moved her hair aside so he could lavish her neck with kisses. “You didn't have to do anything.” he murmured against her skin, his hands gliding up her stomach, stopping just below her breasts. “I always want to ravish you.” he turned her around to face him, his hands roaming her body, his eyes dark with lust. He pulled her flush against him, his lips finding hers in a hungry kiss. His tongue darting out, seeking entrance to her mouth,

she kissed back and allowed him entrance gently sucking on his tongue when he did as had long known the affected it had on him,

that small action was enough to drive him to the edge, his breathing deepening into a moan. His hands gripped her hips, needing something to hold on to. He walked her backwards to the bed, gently pushing her to sit on the edge of the mattress

she giggled as he almost tossed her on the sheets, she playfully kicked her feet before elrond crawled between them

he chuckled, grabbing her ankles to pin them down. He knelt between her parted legs, his body towering over hers, “You are too playful for your own good my love,” he captured her wrists with one hand, holding both above her head, “Now… let me show you what happens when you parade how beautiful you are in front of me all night.” He growled pinning her to the bed with his harsh and lustful kiss, 

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

King of the Forest-land

Elrond x reader. The name Taurdôr literally means forest land in Sindarin - or at least I hope!

This fic was previously titled Behind closed eyes I see you just the way you were.

*****

It was strange, Elrond mused as the carriage proceeded along the muddy terrain, how one could look forward to a certain event, after years spent hoping it would indeed take place one day and having counted the weeks and even the days leading to it, and at the same time feeling so nervous, anxiety mounting to such a degree the person in question couldn’t even sit still, that part of them would have wanted nothing better than turning around and forgetting the whole matter. 

This is how he felt as, peeking out of the horse-drawn vehicle and looking beyond the heavy rain curtain that surrounded him and his escort, he saw the gates of Taurdôr’s royal palace tower in front of him. 

As Elrond imagined, they were -well, he was- expected. He and his escort had passed the borders of the kingdom soon after dawn that day, and as a sign of trust towards the envoy of a kingdom their ruler was to hopefully establish diplomatic relations with soon, they had been allowed to proceed without Taurdôr’s soldiers accompanying them, but the captain of the border patrol had promised to send a dispatch rider to the palace to announce the ambassador’s imminent arrival. The messenger must have promptly carried out their task, because a small assembly had gathered in front of the gates to welcome them: a dozens of soldiers, their captain in the front, and five silk-robed courtiers, huddled under the canopy a pair of servants were holding above their heads to protect them from the rain. 

“Hail and well-met; we escort lord Elrond Half-Elven, ambassador of King Gil-Galad of Lindon.” the captain of Elrond’s escort announced formally. It had rained continuously since they had passed the borders of the kingdom, and the captain had begged Elrond to let them rent a carriage for him in one of the towns they had passed, because it wouldn’t do to have their King’s ambassador present himself to his host soaked to the bone and shivering for the cold. Elrond had acquiesced, recognizing the need to make a good first impression on his first diplomatic mission, even though he couldn’t help feeling guilty for the soldiers, who had been forced to brave the rain for hours, riding on as he sat, comfortable and dry, inside the small vehicle, reading the scrolls and letters he had brought from Lindon.

“Of course; welcome to our court, the ambassador was expected.” one of the courtiers answered courteously, the sound of his voice barely rising above the soft murmur of the rain. A moment later the door of the carriage was open, and the captain bowed to the passenger.

“We have arrived, my lord.”

“Thank you, captain.” Elrond answered; he smiled gratefully to her, and the other Elf answered in kind before stepping back, allowing him to dismount. Almost instantly, a second canopy appeared, allowing Elrond to take refuge under it without even having to lift the hood of his cape. 

“Welcome to our court, lord Elrond.” the same Elf who had spoken earlier greeted him; he was a blonde, relatively short individual, who bowed deeply before stepping back, an open smile on his face “I am lord Gwestor, part of Taurdôr’s council. We are grateful for your presence here.”

“Thank you, lord Gwestor.” Elrond replied, already put at ease by his interlocutor’s friendly disposition. Of course, the person he had to hope would be well-disposed towards him was Taurdôr’s king, not simply one of his councillors, but despite his nervousness, Elrond felt he had reason to feel optimistic; after all, according to the letters he had exchanged with Gil-Galad, Taurdôr’s new ruler was better inclined than his predecessor, and he had been the one to request the envoy of an ambassador, in order to build a diplomatic and hopefully military alliance between the two kingdoms. Whatever the King’s actual intentions and plans were, he wouldn’t have Elrond embark on a long journey, and send a representative of his to welcome him, just to refuse collaborating. Or would he?

“You must be exhausted; such a long and difficult journey.” Gwestor commented as he, having quickly introduced him to the other courtiers, led the guest towards the gates, the canopy fortunately large enough to cover both of them from the deluge that gave no sign of slowing down “And it has rained incessantly for days; truth to be told, we were relieved to learn you had reached our borders safe and sound.”

“That is very kind of you; we encountered no troubles along the way, and I was well-protected.” Elrond admitted, sighing inwardly as he felt himself stepping in a puddle, large and deep enough to drench his boots. The truth was, he was a more than competent warrior, capable of holding his own against most foes, but the absence of bandits ready to ambush them along the way had meant he had one less thing to worry about “Will you please make sure my escort is housed for the night? They deserve to rest much more than I do, and our horses as well.”

“Of course; the King has asked me to make sure you and your retinue have everything you need.”

They soon passed the gates, the other courtiers and the soldiers following them, and Gwestor led Elrond across a large circular courtyard, high buildings of white and pink stone surrounding it; in front of them stood an imposing staircase leading to the main entrance of the palace, the double doors surrounded by a small crowd of servants and courtiers.

Elrond’s heart leaped in his chest as he observed the many Elves arrayed in front of him; there were many females among them, both maids and ladies of the court, and he anxiously searched for a familiar faces among them -a pair of kind, expressive eyes, a smiling mouth, thick hair that eschewed any attempt to tame them- but to his disappointment he found none, strangers’ faces staring blankly at him. 

It wasn’t surprising, he had to admit in his heart. He and the person he had hoped to see had lost contact years before, he wasn’t even fully sure she still resired close to Taurdôr’s palace, perhaps she had even left the kingdom altogether; perhaps the friends she had made at court would be able to help him, tell him where he could write to her and propose they meet, but the person he was looking for, and hoping to see whom he had undertaken that long journey, was more than likely lost - safe and sound, hopefully, but beyond his reach, having probably forgotten about him altogether. She was probably married as well, with a devoted and loving spouse who had been quicker than him in realising their feelings and courting the object of their affection… 

Of course, he had much more pressing matters to attend to, Elrond reminded himself; it was his first mission as Lindon’s ambassador, and Gil-Galad had entrusted him with the task of building a closer, mutually beneficial relationship with Taurdôr, a remote kingdom famously jealous of its independence and that had long looked with suspicion at Lindon -and any other realm-’s offers for an alliance. 

Heartbreak and disappointment had to be put aside, for the moment at least; he had to focus on his duties, on making a good impression on the King of Taurdôr and convincing him that a military pact, or at least a trade agreement, with Lindon was in his people’s best interest as well. His mission was more important than any private matter; he would do his utmost to accomplish it, and then, at least, he could be satisfied with his work, even though he would never have the chance to confess his feelings to the person who had aroused them in him. 

“Shall I have the opportunity to meet your lord soon?” he inquired as he and Gwestor reached the top of the staircase, and the small crowd in front of them bowed as one before parting to admit the guest inside “I… fear I need to change my clothes, but…”

Gwestor looked at him kindly. “Our King looked forward to meeting you, and begs for your forgiveness, but unfortunately a conference with the kingdom’s guild masters had been scheduled for this afternoon. A room has been prepared for you, and you’ll have plenty of time to rest after your long journey, and our lord will be happy to meet you at dinner tonight. I hope this arrangement doesn’t displease you.”

Quite the opposite, it was perfect, Elrond decided, since a few hours to himself gave him the chance to take a rest, make himself presentable and gather his thoughts before the meeting with the King. “Dinnertime is more than convenient, thank you.”

Gwestor smiled; Elrond suddenly wished there were more Elves like him at Gil-Galad’s court. “I’m glad to hear that. Allow me to accompany you to your rooms; I very much hope you’ll enjoy your stay here in Taurdôr, my lord.”

Having crossed the palace’s large doors to a well-lit chamber, Elrond was finally safe from the pouring rain, even though a line of wet footprints followed him. He moved to follow his guide towards a long corridor, its walls covered by rich tapestries, and a moment later he hesitated; after all, in a sense, his mission wouldn’t officially begin until he met the King, so… “May I ask a question?” he inquired of Gwestor “Have you been residing here at court long?”

“Four or five centuries at least, even though I have admittedly lost count; I was cup-bearer to the previous King in my youth. Why do you ask?”

Elrond bit his lip, suddenly shy. “Well… it may sound strange, but I was wondering if you knew a person I was acquainted with, long ago; an Elf of Lindon, who moved here in Taurdôr years past, by the name of (name). She was a hunter, an Elf-woman with (hair/colour) hair, and a capable archer.”

If Gwestor found his question strange, or if he disapproved of the ambassador more focused on searching for his old friends than on the mission he had been sent to carry out, he didn’t betray his feelings. For a moment, he even seemed to smile.

“I do, in fact. I have met (name).” he answered “In fact, she still lives here, at court.”

Elrond’s heart leaped. “Are you serious?!” he inquired, unconcerned that any servant or lord of the court could hear him; he felt ready to embrace the other Elf.

“Quite serious, I assure you.” 

“Where is she? I… I know I’m here on official duty, but it would mean the world to me if I could talk to her…”

This time, Gwestor’s smile was open, almost amused. “You’ll meet her soon, I assure you.” he said “I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you.”

The lodging the King of Taurdôr had had prepared for him was more spacious and refined than Elrond’s rooms at home, with a bedroom large enough to accommodate the whole Lindon party, an almost equally ample washroom and a study with a bookcase full of tomes and scrolls; a young servant was waiting for Elrond when Gwestor accompanied him, ready to serve him in any way the ambassador requested. Flattered, the Half-Elf decided to interpret it as a sign of the good-will of the King who, beside fulfilling his duties as a host, was perhaps equally anxious to make a good impression on Gil-Galad’s envoy.

A hot bath had been prepared for him, and Elrond thoroughly enjoyed it, warming himself in the large tub while the servant took care of his bags, retrieved from the carriage, and damp clothes. He felt better already, he reflected as he used a scented oil to wash dirt and dust away from his hair and skin, more lucid and sure of himself, ready to meet the King and negotiate a treaty that would benefit both realms; there were a few documents Gil-Galad had entrusted him with that he wanted to review again before dinner, and maybe then he’d have time for a short nap on the almost ridiculously soft-looking bed in the adjoining room…   

Yes, everything would go well, and he’d soon return to Lindon having secured a stable alliance with Taurdôr. Resting his head against the brim of the tub, Elrond allowed himself to smile, joy and excitement filling his heart for reasons that went way beyond the prospect of the successful conclusion of his first diplomatic mission. 

He had found (name)! He still couldn’t believe it. Gwestor had said he would meet her soon, and Elrond felt he could trust him, even though the councillor had told him nothing about the Elf-woman he had missed so terribly, beyond confirming that she still lived at court. Were they friends? Or more than friends? Discovering that (name) had an intended, or worse a spouse, would have broken his heart, even if the Elf in question was a kind and friendly individual like Gwestor, but he couldn’t blame his friend for having pursued a relationship. Elrond was also aware that, with the two of them now living in different kingdoms, there was little chance (name) would accept his offer of courtship, even if there was no one in her life at the moment and he found the courage to tell her what he felt. 

Elrond sighed, his joy imperceptibly dimmed, as he lifted an arm from the water and contemplated the tiny drops falling from the tip of his fingers. Overall, the secret hopes that still burned in his heart, so many years after he and (name) had said good-bye, seemed unlikely to come true, he reflected, and the fault was entirely his. How could he not realise his feelings for (name) went beyond friendship, in the centuries they had spent together, meeting almost every day at the court of Lindon and happily spending their time in each other’s company? How could he think that there was nothing romantic about the way his heartbeat accelerated every time she took his hand or rested her cheek on his shoulder as they pored over a scroll or a book together?

It had been only after she had left, to move with her relatives in Taurdôr, that Elrond had felt a part of him was missing, and soon realised how special (name) had been for him - that he was in love with her, and would carry that affection in his heart forever. Galadriel, the only person he had confided his feelings in, had urged him to go after her, to travel to Taurdôr himself to tell her what he felt, or at least write her a letter, but the Half-Elf had decided not to; after all, (name) had moved away to help her sister, left alone with her children after the death of her spouse, and he would have felt the most egotistical Elf in Arda in asking her to return for him. 

Still, he would be happy to see her, even if she had already a spouse and a brood of children of her own; they hadn’t seen each other for so many years, but Elrond felt, in his heart, that (name) had not forgotten him, and the deep friendship and affection they had once shared. That night, after he had dined with the King and hopefully begun discussing the alliance, he would ask discreetly around for her, preferably if he happened to meet Gwestor again. And then he and his old friend could spend some time together, reminiscing about the years they had both spent at the court of Lindon, and perhaps promise to write to each other from then on.

While he couldn’t help wanting more, Elrond knew that would be enough to make him happy.  

Once Elrond had been chosen for the diplomatic mission to Taurdôr, the tailors and seamstresses of the court had prepared a whole new wardrobe for him, with rich tunics, capes and other garments suited for his new role of ambassador; the Half-Elf had never cared too much about the latest trends, content with his elegant but simple tunics and comfortable boots, but he did know that presenting himself appropriately dressed could help him make a good impression on the King, not too mention to express Lindon’s power and affluence and, consequently, its value as a commercial and military ally. 

As he regarded himself in the mirror, clad to head to toe in the precious velvet the tailors had chosen specifically for the first meeting with his host -there were also garments expressly for a meal with the court, for a ride in case the King honoured him with an invite, for a conference with the council and even for a walk in the gardens; as he contemplated the long list of instructions left to him, Elrond had felt lucky he had been allowed to bring his own nightgown at least- and the servant had retrieved from his bags and quickly freed from any wrinkle, Elrond reflected that he would need more than an elegant cape or an embroidered tunic to convince the King an alliance with Lindon would be advantageous to his realm. 

Still, it couldn’t hurt. And he did look good in blue, if he said so himself…

“I can accompany you to the King, my lord, if you’re ready.”

“Of course.” Elrond answered, turning from the mirror. He briefly contemplated bringing his most important scrolls with him, but he decided that opening and reading from them at dinner would be considered impolite, and he better simply rely on his memory until a more formal discussion, scheduled for the next morning. Fortunately, he had read most of the documents so many times during the carriage ride he could almost recite them by heart.

The servant bowed low before leading him out of his rooms, and along a maze of corridors and vast chambers. The maids and pages they met along the way were quick to bow and give way, but a few of the courtiers openly stared and exchanged whispered words; Elrond wasn’t able to assess whether those comments were of blame or support. 

Their short trek ended at the door of an elegant but surprisingly small dining room, the circular table at the centre large enough for perhaps six commensals, and only set for two. Rich tapestries adorned the walls, illuminated by tripod-mounted torches; the only Elf present in the room was busy observing one of them, their back turned. 

“Lord Elrond of Lindon, your Majesty.”

“Of course, let him in.”

Elrond, tenser than he ever remembered he had felt, didn’t notice the pitch of the voice that had answered to his introduction; he knelt, his head bowed low. 

“Your Majesty.” he greeted his host; he had to swallow twice “I am Elrond Peredhel, at your service.”

He heard the rustling of fabric, the noise of soft-soled shoes covering a brief distance.

“Arise, lord Elrond; welcome to Taurdôr.” the King greeted him, voice solemn but not devoid of a touch of amusement. The Half-Elf obeyed, raising his gaze to meet the one of his host… and he was suddenly relieved he hadn’t brought his scrolls, not to mention the precious and fragile gifts he had been entrusted with by Gil-Galad, to dinner, because otherwise they would have fallen from his hands.

He gaped; he tried to speak, but his words failed him, and all he could do was stare while the King dismissed the servant after instructing him to have dinner served as soon as possible.

Then, the Elf turned to face Elrond once more, smiling broadly - the smile Elrond had carried in his heart ever since he had seen it for the last time, but then she bit her lip, suddenly shy. “Hello, I… I am not sure you remember me; how could you, after so many years? We… we were acquainted when I lived in Lindon, I am…”

“(name).” Elrond murmured; he couldn’t be mistaken, the Elf in front of him, wrapped in sumptuous garments, was undoubtedly his old friend, who he had said good-bye to years before and then never stopped caring for, and he did know she had moved to Taurdôr and still lived at court, but this… her, here, now… was unexplainable, and made him fear he was walking in a dream, soon to awake and feel more lonely and dejected than ever… “Is… is it really you?”

(name) grinned; relief seemed to fill her like clear water in the cupped hands of the thirsty. “It is me; I… I was afraid you had forgotten about me…”

“I haven’t; I never could.” Elrond reassured her; he was still struggling to make sense of the unexpected revelation and its implications -where was the King of Taurdôr? Why was (name) here instead of him?- but he didn’t care. He had found her; (name) was here and still remembered him! Elrond’s heart was singing, and as he struggled to decide what to say, he decided that he had kept his feelings hidden for far too long; waiting even just one more moment was unbearable “I… I am so happy to see you again. Truth to be told, I hoped I could take advantage of my journey to Taurdôr to look for you; I have missed you so much.”

 “And I have missed you, Elrond. I am so glad Gil-Galad sent you, and that we have the chance to talk once more.”

“As am I. But now, tell me… where is the King?” Elrond inquired; even in the midst of his and his friend’s joyful reunion, he couldn’t forget he had come to Taurdôr on an official mission, and he couldn’t focus on (name) -specifically, on confessing that he was more than a little infatuated and had never stopped thinking about her for years- before at least presenting himself to his host, and hopefully starting to discuss the new alliance between their kingdoms “I was supposed to meet him here. Were you sent to receive me? Are you part of Taurdôr’s council as well?”

“No, I… well…”

(name) sighed; suddenly she seemed… tense, almost worried, as if she were about to reveal some shocking truth and had no idea how her interlocutor would react. “No one sent me; rather, I sent for you.” she said, taking Elrond’s hands in hers, as if afraid he would disappear into thin air - or run away “Elrond… I am the King of Taurdôr.”

“It all happened only a month after I had moved here to be close to my sister after the death of her husband. There is a dense forest a few hours’ ride from the palace, and one day I decided to bring my nephews there, so that we could hunt game for dinner, and also to distract them from the thought of the loss of their father. We had just arrived when we heard sounds of a struggle; I told my nephews to hide, and peeking through the bushes I saw a group of armed Elves on horseback attempting to kidnap another, dressed as a lord.”

“He was the King.” Elrond guessed, a still untouched chalice of wine in his hand; the servants who had served dinner had been dismissed, leaving him and his host alone, which was good, because while not a secret, that conversation was too private and delicate to be carried out in the presence of witnesses.

(name) nodded; she was sitting in front of him, almost apologetic but already more relaxed, as if reassured her revelation would not make her old friend run for his life “He was, even though I had no idea; I had never met him, since I had moved to the kingdom only recently, and my sister, the court’s librarian, had never brought me with her when she worked. Still, I realised what was happening; the Elf was fighting desperately to defend himself, but the guards who had accompanied him had been killed, their bodies lying on the ground.” she went on, and shuddered; as a capable hunter, and having served in Lindon’s army as captain of the archers, she knew death up close, but she had never gotten used to it, and she had once confided in Elrond she feared she never would “We would have been outnumbered even if I had intervened to defend the lord, not to mention I only had a hunting knife at my belt, and I was still responsible for my nephews; so I remained hidden, and used my bow and arrow to kill the kidnappers from afar.”

“So you saved his life.”

“Apparently I did. When I could finally reach him the Elf was barely awake, so I loaded him on my horse and brought it back to the court to entrust him to the healers; you can imagine my surprise when they recognized him, and told me who he was.”

The King had wanted to meet her to thank her personally as soon as he had recovered, (name) went on explaining; he had gone hunting with his escort, as he was wont to do, and a lord who was secretly conspiring against him had sent his guards to kidnap him. Hadn’t (name) been there, he would have been captured, taken hostage, and perhaps even killed. The King, grateful, offered to reward (name) in any way she wanted, and gained even more appreciation for her when his saviour, admitting there was nothing she especially desired, ended up asking for her nephews to be admitted to the court’s school, so that they could benefit from a good education. Learning she had been captain of the archers at the court of Lindon, the King had asked for a test of her abilities, and then, more than satisfied, had asked her to join the same corps in his own army. In time, he had developed a deep affection for her, coming to regard (name) as the daughter he had never had; because of this, no one had been surprised when, only a year before and in conjunction with his long-discussed decision to abandon Taurdôr and sail to Valinor, the King had asked (name) to let him name her his heir and ascend him to the throne after him.

“Well, no one but me; I’d like to tell you I didn’t need to sit because my legs were shaking, but that’d be a lie.” (name) sighed as she toyed with the pendants of her necklace, an instinctive gesture Elrond had seen her made often when she was tense - even though now, for the first time, those pendants were of solid gold, probably precious enough to ransom a lord “I told him I was the worst choice he could make, that I had none of the abilities required of a ruler, that I was too blunt, too outspoken and rigid on my principles to deal with the courtiers and the lords and all those who constantly came to him requesting favours and concessions; I was not a diplomat, and all I could say was what I thought, nothing more and nothing less. The King smiled, and told me this was exactly why he wanted me to succeed him on the throne.”

Elrond had never met Taurdôr’s previous ruler, but he found himself appreciating the older Elf’s wisdom. “And so, you became King.” he recapitulated as he placed his chalice back on the table “King and not Queen, I seem to gather.”

“I know, it’s odd. I didn’t mean to lie to you, but Taurdôr has never had a ruling Queen before, and Kings’ spouses do not really have a role beyond child-rearing and hosting parties. This wasn’t obviously the sort of ruler I wanted to be, not to mention I had started receiving marriage proposals less than ten minutes after my predecessor had announced his decision to name me his heir, so I declared that even though I am a woman I wished to be styled as King, and not Queen, to make it clear that the throne was mine and mine alone, and I’d let no one take it from me or use me as a puppet for their own purposes. I meet with the council once a week and I have a number of advisors, but you’d be surprised to learn how many Elves seem to think I’d be easily influenced simply because I wear a skirt.”

“Well, those Elves don’t know you as well as I do.”

(name) shrugged. “No, they don’t.” she acknowledged; her eyes shone with pride and happiness, and Elrond had never wanted to kiss her as much as he did then “Or at least, they didn’t when I ascended to the throne, even though I am proud to say many of them quickly changed their mind, and had to recognize I have a will as strong as any male Elf if not more.” 

Elrond smiled. “I’m sure you are a capable ruler, whatever title you use.”

“I try my best.” 

(name) rested her chin on the palm of her hand. “You know, had many other Elves here at court told me those words, I’d at least suspect they were trying to adulate me.” she said “With you, instead… I know you are being sincere; that you actually think that.”

“I have always been sincere with you, (name). And I always will be.” Elrond answered; it was not fully true, since there was a single but important matter he had kept from his friend, but given the context of their conversation the Half-Elf was confident his little lie could be excused… especially considering he planned on filling the gap as soon as possible. The fact that the object of his affections was now the ruler of a powerful kingdom, and he was simply an herald that many looked down to because of his mixed heritage, could change things, since no one was less free to follow their feelings than a King, but he had promised himself he would tell (name) how he felt, and he would - even if he had already prepared himself to have his heart broken “You… you look splendid, really.”

He strongly doubted he was the first to pay that sort of compliment to her, but he was surprised to see her blush. 

“Thank you.” she murmured, clearly flattered; she smiled, and he smiled at her, and suddenly the few days he had been promised to plead his case at the court of Taurdôr felt not enough - not enough by far “Now, why don’t we enjoy dinner? I want to know everything about Lindon, and what you have done since we last met.”

They did. Since (name) had dismissed the servants, Elrond offered to serve dinner to both, but she assured her there was no need, and was perfectly capable of filling her own plate and goblet. They spoke at length, their old familiarity still vivid after the long separation. (name) asked after Gil-Galad, more concerned for the King she had once faithfully served and trusted than in a peer she was supposed to negotiate with, and her old friends; more than anything, she wanted to know about Elrond’s life, and he gladly answered all her questions, secretly flattered by the attention. In turn, he asked his old friend about her life as King, and was pleased to perceive she was happy, confident in her capacity to reign and fulfilled every time she was able to carry out her duties, settling a dispute between two courtiers or allocating the necessary funding to support a feud stricken by famine. She was still close to her sister, who had not remarried but had been able to overcome the pain of her loss and was now focused on raising her children; (name) even found the time to practise archery, and to go hunting in the woods, even though it pained her that she had to formally retire from the army’s archery troops before ascending to the throne. 

She never mentioned whether there was someone special in her life, either privately or through a formal betrothal, the sort Kings often used to seal an alliance or put an end to a conflict; the matter didn’t concern him, but Elrond allowed himself to find some comfort in it. Unless, of course, Gil-Galad, who was also unmarried, decided an union was exactly what Lindon needed to seal an alliance with Taurdôr, and tasked Elrond with proposing to (name) for him…

At the end of the meal, a comfortable, pleasant silence fell on them; the soft light of the torches made the stately room look homely, almost, Elrond thought, as if they were still in his quarters at Lindon’s palace, enjoying a simple meal alone as they talked about their day and joked about the court’s latest gossip. He already loved her back then, even though he wasn’t aware of it; but still, he had cherished those moments, the simple and innocent intimacy they afforded, when he knew he could be himself, without fear of being judged or blamed. (name) wasn’t afraid of speaking her mind, and would freely tell him she didn’t agree or thought Elrond had made a mistake, but the Half-Elf knew she never ceased supporting him, and caring for his well-being, and being ready to defend him.

Was that love? He didn’t know; but just looking in her eyes was enough to perceive (name) still cared for him and had not forgotten everything they had gone through together, and Elrond was happy for it. Happy, and grateful.

“Was everything of your liking, Elrond?”

“It was delicious; the best meal I have had for a long time.” he replied; the compliment was due more to the good company he had been enjoying than to the admittedly good food, but the Half-Elf thought it would have been too forward to say it “You needn’t have worried so much for me.”

“Of course I needed to; and I wanted to. I…” (name) began, and then hesitated, biting her lip “... I wanted you to feel welcomed here; not just as the emissary of a King, but as my guest. Lindon and its people will forever be part of me, but Taurdôr is my home now, a great kingdom full of beauty and kind people; I hoped you would come to love it, just like I did.”

“If the people here are good to you, I’m sure I’ll like it.”

“No one could beat you in goodness, Elrond. This is what I have always liked about you the most.” 

(name) smiled; she had stopped touching her necklace. “Shall we walk in the gardens for a while?” she proposed “Unless you want to retire, after the long journey.”

Hadn’t he slept for a month, still Elrond would have gladly walked with her. He offered her his arm, which the Elf-woman gladly took as she led him out of the banquet room and along a new series of corridors. A couple of courtiers who crossed their path attempted to talk to the King, but (name) quickly stopped them, postponing the discussion to the audience already scheduled for the next morning, or instructing them to talk to someone else.

“Sometimes I feel guilty.” she confided in Elrond as they finally stepped beyond a stone arch, the lush vegetation enveloping them under the trees’ canopy “So many people depend on me, but I can’t be available to talk and do things at all times day and night. I need some moments for myself, otherwise I’ll lose my mind.”

“Of course. You told me you still have time for your archery.”

“For that, and for spending time with my friends.”

(name) smiled; she took Elrond’s hand in his to pull him towards the heart of the large greenhouse surrounding them. “Come.” she invited him “I want you to see all of my favourite places.”

Elrond let himself be led among the trees and bushes, his heart heavy with joy and anticipation. 

The next few days saw Elrond and (name) spend as much time as they could together. The King was comprehensibly busy, but the alliance with Lindon was an important enough matter that less urgent duties and tasks could be postponed or delegated, and the Half-Elf soon realised his friend had prepared herself in advance and renounced the little free time she had for herself, for him. When she was otherwise occupied, with audiences or other obligations that kept her in her study or away from the court, she always made sure Elrond was entertained, tasking either lord Gwestor or other courtiers she was close to and trusted to accompany him to visit the most beautiful places of the kingdoms or organise some diversion to occupy his time.

They were old friends who had not seen each other for a long time, and he was the emissary of a powerful King (name) needed to make a good impression on; but Elrond allowed himself to feel flattered, and even hopeful, for such care. 

They went riding in the woods, followed by a contingent of bodyguards who hung back, giving the King and his guest all the space they could while still watching over them; they lunched alone in the gardens, sitting on a blanket as they poured their own wine and laughed to tears remembering some small adventure of their youth; they danced in the ballroom of the castle, under the watchful eyes of the court, and (name) wondered in her heart whether Elrond’s hands had been so warm on her hips, and the beauty of his smile so blinding, when she still resided in Lindon and he saved her from being the only Elf-woman who had not been invited, gently twirling her around and making her feel as if no one else existed in all of Arda. 

In those moments, they both regretted wasting so many years without each other, and hoped in their heart things could change in the future - for the better, hopefully. 

Nor the King nor the ambassador had forgotten Elrond was not in Taurdôr on vacation. They started discussing the alliance on the day after his arrival, and the Half-Elf was relieved to learn his old friend was more than favourable to the idea, at least as far diplomatic and trade relations between the two kingdoms were concerned.

“My predecessor, and all of Taurdôr’s Kings for centuries, have been highly protective, even jealous, of our land’s independence.” she explained to him one afternoon, after they had moved their audience to the King’s own apartment, enjoying a bit of peace and quiet as they sipped a goblet of wine “Many Elves, both here at court and in the kingdom, view with suspicion the simple presence of foreigners within our borders, to say nothing of their interest in our affairs. They wouldn’t even ask for help in case of aggression or famine; it sounds absurd, but I think the Elves of Taurdôr are so proud of the strength and prosperity of their kingdom, they instinctively believe others only wish to steal them.”

Elrond was not surprised, since (name)’s predecessors had constantly refused any sort of friendly pact with Lindon and other kingdoms, at one point -Gil-Galad had shown him a letter received two years before- proudly declaring Taurdôr needed no support or protection from its neighbours, and therefore saw no reason to get embroiled in their business.

“But you are different.” he stated as he moved on the high-backed chair he was sitting on, searching for a more comfortable position; for a moment, he felt (name)’s thigh press against his “I mean… you are of a different opinion.”

“I am. I have sworn to protect and defend the well-being of Taurdôr and its people, and I will; I simply believe that shutting oneself away, and believing everyone else is an enemy ready to steal from us, is not healthy, let alone intelligent. Both I and my sister have been looked at with suspicion after we moved to the realm, as foreigners bearers of who knows what trouble, even though all we wished was to remain close to the people we loved. This is not good, Elrond; if we erect barriers all around us, even only to protect ourselves from danger, we will end up suffocating.”

(name) sighed; she had already confided in Elrond that, while she had been able to earn the trust and respect of many at court and in the kingdom, there were also those who still treated her with hostility because she had lived in the kingdom for a relatively short period of time, and vocally disapproved of her intentions of opening the borders of Taurdôrs to other realms.

“No one can succeed alone; no matter how strong, or wealthy, or wise.” she muttered, once again playing with the heavy necklace she wore; for a moment, Elrond wondered if she were actually talking about her kingdom, or rather herself “United we are stronger, in the face of war, famine or any other danger; and even if a place is completely self-sufficient, we could all benefit from close contact with our peers, exchanging ideas and working together for a common goal. Even the wisest can still learn; and while we cannot always be sure of the intentions of others, and it is proper to defend ourselves and what we own, suspicion, contempt and fear can bring nothing good. I hope the alliance with Lindon will only be the first of many; that one day, I can show even the most suspicious Elves of this kingdom that even if we remain protective of our autonomy, our rights and the treasures of our land, we can still help others and, in turn, receive support when we need it.”

Elrond didn’t doubt she would succeed, no matter how difficult the goal she had set herself was; she had nothing but the well-being and the security of her land and her people at heart, and while good intentions weren’t always enough to ensure success, they had to count for something. 

“It will take time.” he pointed out, and his friend sighed before nodding; as King, she had formally the power to take decisions by herself, without having to consult or ensuring the approval of anyone, but Elrond knew perfectly how difficult, potentially even dangerous, the situation of a ruler who could not count on the support of their people could be. (name) had to make sure the most influential nobles of her court, the members of her council and probably also the chief officers of the army, were on her side and supported her project, otherwise she could find herself isolated and potentially even deposed by those who preferred that Taurdôr’s borders remain closed to strangers and potential allies “I know this realm has been isolated in itself for centuries; this state of things is everything many Elves have ever known.”

“I know, unfortunately; I think many Elves here are simply afraid, and worry that forming an alliance with another kingdom will lead foreigners to lord over our territory and steal our riches… which of course I plan to avoid. And fortunately we are immortal.” (name) mentioned, and smiled “I have all the time to win them over.”

They laughed together; (name)’s foot touched Elrond’s. He smiled at her, and then looked down, suddenly shy; his face felt as if it were on fire, and he was pretty sure the Elf-woman next to him could see it despite the dim light. He had nothing to feel embarrassed for, especially in (name)’s presence, but suddenly his resolution of confessing his feelings to his friend, especially when they were working on changing centuries of tradition and opening Taurdôr’s borders to the rest of Arda, felt ridiculous, even egotistical. What if she didn’t return his affection? Would the awkwardness make things difficult between them, both at a personal level -which would be painful enough- and making it harder for him and his friend to work jointly for the alliance between their kingdoms? Could he put his own feelings ahead of the mission he has been entrusted with? Perhaps it was better to wait, make sure relations between Lindon and Taurdôr had improved before breaching the subject, so that he could request to be replaced in his role as ambassador, in case (name) weren’t interested in him like he was in her…

She had seen him blush. “I’m sorry.” she whispered; suddenly the King of Taurdôr looked lost, as if she didn’t know what to do with her hands, and the rest of her body as well “I… made you uncomfortable, Elrond, forgive me…”

“You did not.” he reassured her “You never could.”

“Still, I should remember I need to be more careful when I… approach other Elves, given my position at court. The truth is…” (name) started, she hesitated, and then took Elrond’s hand in hers; she had freed her hair from the elaborate updo her maids arranged every day, and that, in the Half-Elf’s eyes, simply enhanced her natural beauty - a beauty so unassuming and radiant it made him tremble “Elrond, for all these years I… I have never ceased to carry you in my heart, and…”

“Your Majesty.”

They were both startled, their hands separating brusquely; Elrond stood, suddenly ashamed as if he had been caught as he committed a crime, while (name) glared at the servant who now stood in front of them, for a moment unable to hide how displeased she was.

“What is it?”

“Your pardon, my King; lord Voronil requests an audience.” the servant explained; hearing that name, the Elf-woman frowned.

“It is very late. What can be so urgent, he asks for me at this time?”

“He didn’t say, your Majesty. I told him you had retired to your rooms and asked not to be disturbed, but he insisted.”

“I’m sure he did.”

(name) sighed; she looked regretfully at her now empty hands, and stood. “Very well.” she said, her tone firm and openly displeased “I’ll go, and he better have a good reason for disturbing me now. Elrond, forgive me, I…”

“It is alright; I don’t want to keep you.” he said, forcing himself to smile; what else could he do? Unwilling to remain in his friends’ apartment without her, he bowed low and departed to return to his own rooms, as (name) looked regretfully at him a last time and then walked away herself, the servant following her closely.

Eight days later, at the end of an interminable list of audiences and meetings with the members of the council and other courtiers, (name) and Elrond signed together a trade agreement that formally opened Taurdôr’s borders to a selected number of merchants from Lindon, while a few (few) of their own goods would be sent to the largest towns of the other kingdom to be sold. A diplomatic pact was also ratified, with which the two parts formally recognized each other and formally pledged their friendship - without elaborating on the rights and duties the pact entailed.

It was little, a drop of water in the sea compared to what the two old friends hoped to build, but it was a start and, more importantly, they had been able to convince a majority of the council members and a few of the most influential nobles of the court of the goodness of their project - quite a task, all things considered.

That night, a great feast was held at court, to celebrate the beginning of a more proactive role for Taurdôr in the politics of Arda… and to honour Elrond, whose departure from the realm was scheduled for the next day.

As he stepped into the huge, festively decorated ballroom, the Half-Elf felt suddenly overwhelmed, all too aware that all the eyes in the room had immediately turned to him; he smiled, vaguely embarrassed, and greeted a few of the courtiers he had gotten to know since his arrival. Several of them seemed to interpret the gesture as an invitation, and a clump of Elves quickly gathered around him, asking about the court of Lindon, the goods that could be bought and sold in its markets, and even the presence of unmarried ladies in its most powerful noble families. 

Elrond did his best to answer every question posed to him, but was relieved when Gwestor, having noticed his uneasiness and taken pity on him, forced his way through the throng, slipped his arm under the Half-Elf’s, and led him away towards a more peaceful corner of the hall, close to the harpists and lute-player whose sweet notes were livening up the evening. A large table held refreshments of every kind, including gallons of strong beverages, while a number of couples had already started dancing, the central area of the room having been reserved for such activity. 

“I hope you will forgive me, but I thought you needed saving.”

“I really did; thanks for saving me.” Elrond said, returning the amused smile of the other Elf; they obtained chalices of mulled wine from the tray of a passing servant, and sipped it together as Elrond looked all around him, quickly finding (name), more radiant than ever in a lavish dress of a colour that emphasised that of her eyes and hair; she was patiently listening to a richly-dressed Elf, who talked insistently not so much to but at her, clearly pleased to have the King’s attention focused on him. 

She was beautiful, Elrond thought, and so more than that; she was the most amazing and precious creature in all of Arda, and he was desperately in love with her - he had been for a long time, and he would tell her soon, he promised himself once more, all too aware that the time at his disposal was running out, even though the possibility of his dreams coming true seemed fainter with any passing hour.

Almost as if she had perceived that his thoughts were focused on her, (name) turned to Elrond and smiled at him, before briefly nodding towards the Elf next to her with an exasperated face she was then quick to hide; the Half-Elf smiled back, amused, but in his heart he had to admit he was more than a little jealous of her interlocutor.

“That is lord Voronil.” Gwestor murmured, having perceived the exchange of looks between the two old friends. (name) had told Elrond Gwestor was one of her closest allies at court, an Elf whose integrity and loyalty she trusted fully, and who had been kind to her since a chance meeting soon after the Elf-woman’s arrival in Taurdôr; Elrond liked him, and had appreciated the other Elf’s support as he and the King pleaded their cause with the court “His family is less powerful than many others, but he knows how to ingratiate himself to others and now there are many at court who favour him or are in his debt.”

“Oh, I know.” Elrond answered “Lord Voronil was quick to introduce himself to me when (name)... when the King and I presented our project for an alliance to the court; I had the impression he would have readily objected even on the sort of boots I was wearing that day if he could.”

Many Elves of the court supported Voronil against the alliance, and at first it had been disheartening to see how large and committed the opposition to their project was; but (name), who knew the Elves of Taurdôr much better than he did, hadn’t looked intimidated, and Elrond had decided to follow her example. With time and patience, they had been able to convince many of their critics that a trade deal and a few diplomatic visits wouldn’t hurt, especially if it helped find new buyers for their goods, and business partners of other sorts. Voronil had remained one of the few who refused to even discuss the matter, and had not hidden his discontent when a majority of the court had voted in favour of a commercial agreement with Lindon.

Gwestor smiled gently. “Don’t take it personally; Voronil disapproves of many, especially of those who do not fawn over him but the King favours.” he confided; lowering his voice to a whisper, he added “I have also heard that he requested an audience with her when the two of you were alone in her apartment at night.”

Elrond felt panic rise in his stomach. “How do you…?”

“The servant who came to call her is the son of my steward; he confided in me that Voronil had paid a few pages to inform him as soon as the two of you were alone. I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t have anything important to tell her, but simply kept her occupied long enough your time together had to be postponed.”

According to what (name) had told him on the next day, Voronil did apparently have an important matter to discuss with her, if not something so urgent it couldn’t wait until the next morning -namely, a request for military help from a relative of his, whose neighbour kept invading his domain, taking advantage of the lack of guards at the borders- but when Voronil had shown her the letter his relative had sent, (name) had read it had been sent weeks before, as if the lord had forgotten about it until that moment - or had decided not to plead it with the King until it had realised the letter could be the excuse he needed to interrupt her and Elrond’s moment together.

“He’s interested in her.” he pointed out softly, noticing the discreet but insistent way Voronil attempted to take (name)’s hand, indifferent to the King’s polite but determinate refusals “Is he not?”

Gwestor grunted. “He is interested in her power, which he hopes to share in becoming Prince consort.” he corrected “I’m sure he doesn’t care for the King in the slightest. He could never make her happy; he would not try either.” 

Elrond remained silent.

“I have also heard some courtiers discuss whether your King could marry ours, in order to consolidate the relations between the two realms and ensure a lasting peace.”

“That… would be reasonable.” Elrond admitted; Gil-Galad had never mentioned the possibility to ask for (name)’s hand in order to secure the alliance, not to mention he had always seemed perfectly at ease in his bachelorhood, but one could never know “Our King thought well of her, and has sent her precious gifts.”

“I’m sure he did. Of course, there is more to a marriage than that, is there not?”

Elrond didn’t answer; he reflected for a while, looking at how (name) was clearly growing impatient at how Voronil tried to monopolise her attention. In the end, he brought the chalice to his lips and swallowed the wine in a long gulp.

“Could I beg a favour of you?” he whispered, without looking away from the Elf-woman “Would you distract Voronil for a minute?”

Clearly amused, Gwestor answered he would try, no matter how unpleasant Voronil could be; he approached the couple and, after bowing low to the King, turned towards the other Elf and put himself between the two. Elrond couldn’t hear what he was saying, but a minute later the councillor had all but dragged away a partially recalcitrant Voronil, who seemed too taken aback from the intervention to protest.

(name) was now alone; Elrond knew he had no time to waste, unless he wanted someone else to approach her.

“You look lovely.” he murmured as he joined her; she had probably been paid the same compliment dozens of times already, but the Elf-woman smiled, clearly flattered. 

“Thank you. I hope you enjoy the evening, Elrond; you’re the guest of honour, and I will never forget all the help you have given me. If one day an alliance will exist between Lindon and Taurdôr, it will be in large part thanks to you.”

Elrond waved his hand to gently refuse those compliments. “We have worked together.” he pointed out “The credit should belong to both, and don’t forget we still have much to do.”

“We do.” (name) admitted, and she smiled “But I think we can rest for one night, and indulge in a bit of merriment.” 

Elrond agreed. He considered inviting (name) to dance, or offering to get her something to drink, but then he remembered his bags were already half-packed on the floor next to his bed; he swallowed. “Would you like to go outside for a moment?” he asked in a whisper, hoping against hope for a positive answer; he knew the King was expected to entertain his guests and welcome visitors, and she couldn’t very well hide to spend time with a single person - even the guest of honour.

But (name), once more, surprised him. “Please.” she promptly answered “I’ve been here for less than an hour and I feel myself suffocating already.”

They left the ballroom together, indifferent to the many who saw them and immediately started gossiping about it, and (name) led Elrond towards a small patio surrounded by tall ivy-covered marble columns, soft grass rustling under their feet.

“And so you're going to leave tomorrow.” (name) stated, her tone neutral.

“I am. I am grateful for your hospitality, and everything you have done to make my stay pleasant.”

“Of course; you know how happy I have been to have you here, after so many years. I…”

“Yes?” Elrond prompted; he stepped closer to her, close enough he could smell her perfume, sweet and intoxicating. His friend bit her lip, as if unsure of what to say; Elrond had already seen shyness on her face, but now… now (name) looked terrified.   

“I was simply thinking… how good it would be, and how happy I would feel, if you could stay a little longer; much longer, ideally.” she confessed in the end precipitously, as if afraid her courage would fail before she could reach the end of her statement “I… I miss you already, even though you haven’t left yet; and if I think that tomorrow we’ll have to say good-bye, and I might not see you for months… it makes me want to cry.”

Elrond didn’t speak.

“Forgive me, I’m… I’m behaving like a petulant child. You have your own life, and things much more interesting to do than… entertaining a lonely Elf-woman. This is embarrassing, I’m sorry, I must have made you…”

“What if I did?” Elrond murmured; he took her hand, and (name), who was blushing furiously, turned towards him.

“W-what?”

“I said, what if I could stay much longer?” he specified, growing bolder with any passing second “What if I could stay here, with you, as long as we both wanted me to? Perhaps… even forever?”

(name) looked at him, almost incredulous, as if she didn’t dare believing what his friend’s words seemed to suggest. “Elrond…”

The Half-Elf smiled; a tenderness he had never experienced had filled his heart. “My darling (name)... I have been in love with you for so long, even though it took me a long time to realise it.” he murmured; he brought her hand to his lips, and he felt it shaking as he devotedly kissed her fingers “I know my standing at court is different from yours, I know you may decide to marry for the sake of your kingdom; I ask nothing of you, but to believe my heart is yours and forever will be, and nothing would make me happier than…”

He couldn’t finish the sentence; he didn’t need to, because he had already said enough, he had said everything he felt and more than (name) hoped him to say; radiant of joy, she gently took his face in her hands and pressed her lips to his, a sweet kiss, relatively chaste but fierce, a kiss that was quickly reciprocated, with a moan that was joy and relief.

She didn’t say I love you too. She didn’t say I have loved you in silence for a long time and I would have told you soon, had I not decided it was my duty to leave and take care of my family. She didn’t say I have never stopped thinking about you, and hoping one day I would have the chance to tell you what I felt. She couldn’t have, since her mouth was otherwise and happily occupied, but (name) knew her actions spoke better than her words ever could, and that Elrond knew her well enough to perceive her joy, and gratitude, and hope in the future they could build together. 

And even if he couldn’t, that was fine; she’d make sure to prove her devotion to him from that day onward, until he had to depart and even beyond that; destiny had given her a second chance at love, and she was determined not to waste it. 

“Are you sure?” Elrond wondered after a while, having finally broken the kiss; he was breathless, and he had never looked so enticing “You’re a King, you should… marry an Elf worthy of you…”

“And you are not?”

“You know what I mean. There are many both here and at the court of Lindon who would rather see you marry Gil-Galad, or another King, to secure an alliance; I know how devoted you are to the well-being of your kingdom, I do not want to… complicate things…”

(name) smiled; she knew how honourable Elrond could be, and she loved him for that, but she also wanted to show him that she would let nothing, and no one, separate them.

“There is nothing I wouldn’t do to ensure the safety and the well-being of Taurdôr.” she stated, holding Elrond’s hands in hers “And yes, I might have decided for an arranged marriage, had things been different; but you, Elrond… you are too important and too dear to me to be renounced. I love you; and I will have no one but you. Whatever the future may bring, I want to be with you forever.”

They kissed again, laughing, crying, and exchanging promises; (name) moaned softly as Elrond gently pushed her against one of the columns, their bodies so close they could feel each other’s heartbeat against their chest. Soft music reached the patio from the ballroom, but neither noticed it, both King and herald too engrossed in each other to pay any mind to what happened around then.

“I have been thinking about sending my own ambassador to Lindon.” she murmured, her mouth still busy worshipping Elrond’s “I think lord Gwestor would be perfect for the role; he could stay at Gil-Galad’s court for a while, discussing the alliance and proposing a closer relationship between our kingdoms. What do you think?”

“It sounds like a splendid idea, my King. This would also mean, obviously, that I’d have to remain here with you.”

“Exactly. Unless, of course, you’d rather return home…”

Elrond smiled; he circled (name)’s hips with his arm, moving slightly as he felt her hands rest on his shoulders. “I’ll never leave.” he promised, before claiming her lips in a kiss once more “I’ll never want to leave, at least. I promise.” 

[stardust-and-snickerdoodles]

i will carry you always

fandom: The Lord of the Rings

pairing: Elrond Peredhel x Reader

summary: Elrond joins your patrol group for a day. Unfortunately, danger befalls you when you find yourself injured and stuck in a ravine. Elrond must decide whether to wait for help to arrive, or take you back to Rivendell himself.

tags/warnings: injury, blood, hurt/comfort, healing, angst

word count: 2596

a/n: I realized after writing this that Elrond can like. heal people. so just ignore the fact that he doesn't do that.

Daily patrol is one of your favorite tasks as a member of Rivendell’s guard. The tranquility of the forest, the gentle bubbling of the Bruinen in the distance, it all served to set you at ease. You felt at home outside the borders of Rivendell – well, at least within the protection of Vilya. Outside that, you were more on edge.

Today’s patrol wasn’t meant to be anything special. You’re buckling the last straps of your light armor when Lord Elrond approaches your group. This in itself was not uncommon; Elrond often comes to wish the patrols luck on their journeys. But he, too, is clad in armor, which is strange.

Your patrol captain, a kindly elf by the name of Estedir, nods to Elrond respectfully. “My lord,” he begins, “how can we assist you?”

Elrond bows his own head, a display of humility not often shown by other elves. “I heard your patrol was uneven, Estedir. If it pleases you, I might join your company.”

Estedir’s eyebrows raise slightly and your own heart picks up its pace. Your own partner is the reason your group is uneven, having injured himself during yesterday’s patrol. You expected to be lumped into a group of three, but Elrond’s presence might change that.

“Of course, my lord,” Estedir permits. “If you’re ready?” He gestures to the gates as your fellow patrol members begin to mount their horses.

“Lead on,” Elrond smiles.

You mount your own horse, a beautiful Arabian named Mereneth, keeping Rivendell’s lord in the corner of your eye. As you follow your patrol out of the gates, Elrond takes up the rear, just behind you. You suddenly feel self-conscious, wondering about your riding form and your armor… Did you polish it enough? What if you look sloppy in front of him?

Before your thoughts can race out of control, Estedir stops the patrol on the border of Vilya’s protection. You figure Elrond must be actively wielding Vilya to keep its protection around Rivendell rather than himself – otherwise, the border would be traveling with you.

Estedir turns to face the group. “Pairs, everyone. Standard routes. Report back here in two hours.” His eyes meet yours for a moment before glancing behind you. “My lord Elrond, if you wouldn’t mind accompanying Y/N.”

“It would be my honor,” Elrond’s smooth voice responds, and you cringe slightly. If you weren’t on edge already, you certainly are now.

You have nothing against the elven lord – quite the opposite, actually. You find him rather attractive, and for that reason keep your distance. He has too many responsibilities and is too important to waste time on a simple member of the guard.

Elrond rides up beside you, his own horse dwarfing yours and making you feel small. “My lord,” you greet in a quiet voice.

“Y/N, yes?” he confirms and you nod. “Lead the way then.” His smile is gentle and kind, just like everyone says.

You begin to steer away from the quickly dissipating patrol, heading into a thick patch of forest. The dense canopy filters the sunlight in a beautiful mosaic, casting a serene golden glow upon the forest floor. You breathe in the earthy scent of moss, exhaling the tension that you realize you’re holding.

Elrond keeps stride beside you, weaving through the tree trunks with ease. You’re afraid to strike up conversation, unsure if he wants to patrol in quiet or not. Your usual partner is chatty – you honestly sometimes wish he would shut up.

Before you can make up your mind, Elrond makes the decision for you. “I used to patrol these woods. I have missed it.”

You hum, trying to come up with an adequate response. Suddenly everything you have to say sounds silly. “It is beautiful,” tumbles out of your mouth. A good enough response, you suppose.

“Beautiful, yet deceiving. Past the protection of Vilya, these parts are dangerous.” He turns slightly to look at you and you meet his eyes.

“My usual patrol partner had an unfortunate accident here yesterday. I’m familiar with the dangers.” The words come out a little snappier than you meant, and you hope you haven’t offended.

Elrond chuckles, a beautiful sound. “I’m sure, my lady.” The title sends a chill through you. “You are far more experienced in this area than I.”

“I’m hardly a lady, my lord. Nor deserving of such a title.” A fierce blush races up your cheeks.

The two of you go silent for a while, just the sounds of birdsong and hoofsteps filling your ears. You keep an eye out for any signs of orcs or other creatures that might pose a threat. So far, the journey has been as peaceful as usual. You’re even almost becoming comfortable with Elrond’s presence beside you. You decide to steal a glance at the elf lord. He looks at peace here in the forest, just like how you feel. You admire the light that plays upon his features, highlighting the timeless wisdom and grace that seems to radiate from him.

Whilst you’re not paying attention, Mereneth stumbles. Her hoof catches on something and she startles. For a moment you’re disoriented as you’re tossed from the saddle. Then the breath is stolen from your lungs as you impact with a rock wall, tumbling into darkness. The sensation of rocks and branches scraping against your skin goes unnoticed as you struggle to gain your bearings. Finally, the world stops moving around you and you come to a jarring halt on hard, rocky ground.

The pain hits you immediately. First your head, a deep, aching throb that emanates from your forehead. Then, a sharp stabbing pain in your thigh. You blink rapidly and stare up. You’ve fallen into a deep ravine with high, steep walls. Your ears ring, the sounds of the forest muffled.

You can just barely make out the sound of Elrond shouting, although it sounds far away and echoey. You attempt to move, but agony forces you still again. Your vision swims, a haze of red filling your right eye as blood trickles from your forehead.

“Elrond…” you mumble, the name barely a whisper on your lips.

“I’m coming, hold on!” Elrond shouts. You can hear him scrabbling down the rocks, his steps small but sure as he finds footholds along the walls. Finally, he enters your vision, his face a blur of panic and concern.

“Y/N, can you hear me?” his voice is urgent, but there’s an undercurrent of calm through it, and you suddenly remember that he’s not just a lord, but a healer.

“Hurts,” you manage to grit out, pain and confusion filling the word.

“I know, I know.” Elrond’s eyes sweep across your crumpled body, stopping on your leg. His breath hitches for a moment and there’s enough clarity in your mind to know the look on his face is nothing good.

“What… What is it?”

Elrond meets your cloudy gaze again. “Your leg is bleeding heavily. I need to stop it, but it’s going to hurt.”

A droplet of something wet flows down your cheek, but you’re not sure if it’s blood or tears. “Alright,” you ground out.

Elrond places a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “You must stay awake, do you understand? I know it will hurt, but you have to stay awake.”

You nod, stopping when a fresh burst of pain flashes through your head.

“Try not to move too much,” Elrond says as he rips a piece of his tunic off.

You stare up at the forest canopy, seeming so far away now. Then there’s a searing pain in your leg as Elrond fastens the cloth around your leg. You cry out loudly, body tensing and vision blurring.

“Stay with me, Y/N,” Elrond urges, tightening the makeshift tourniquet. “I’m almost done.”

The pain in your leg has localized into a tight, aching sensation, but it hurts no less. It’s just more concentrated now. Elrond continues to murmur reassuring words, pulling you back from the brink of unconsciousness.

“There,” he finally says, leaning back onto his heels. “Now let me see that head wound.” He crouches closer to your face, his hand resting on your unbloodied cheek. He gently moves your head, turning to get a clearer view of it. “Mostly superficial,” he murmurs, “but you likely have a concussion. Head wounds always bleed excessively.” He rips off another piece of his tunic and presses it against your forehead. You hiss and attempt to pull away. Elrond tuts, a small smile curving his lips. The expression doesn’t reach the rest of his face though. “Still, now.”

“How are we going to get back?” you ask, your voice still weak and trembling.

Elrond’s jaw tightens and he refuses to meet your eyes. “The patrol should notice our absence and send a search party. It shouldn’t be long now.” He glances up at the sky, noting the darkening of the forest. He doesn’t say it but you both know – it is imperative to get you back as soon as possible before you bleed out or lose your leg.

“Mereneth?” you breathe the name out slowly. At Elrond’s confused look, you clarify, “My horse.”

“Ah. She’s waiting at the top of the ravine, along with my own, Arahael. Her hoof caught in some brambles, which is what set her off. She’s fine.”

“Good,” you sigh. The encroaching darkness sets off your circadian rhythm, and a heavy wave of tiredness suddenly overcomes you. Your eyelids droop despite your best efforts.

Elrond shakes you gently. “You have to stay awake, melethel. It is unsafe to sleep with your injuries.”

You flutter your eyes open again, meeting his eyes. His eyebrows are deeply furrowed, concern splayed across his features. “It’s so hard,” you murmur. “I’m so tired.”

“Tell me about yourself,” Elrond says, moving the cloth on your forehead to clean up the blood across your face. “Do you have family?”

You smile. The world around you feels hazy, almost like you’re floating, but you can indulge in this conversation. “A brother. Lennor. He works in your library.”

Elrond nods. “Yes, I know him. Lennor is a wonderful friend. He helps me often. I did not know you were related.”

“Only by adoption,” you explain. “My parents sailed to the Undying Lands shortly after my birth. Lennor’s father took me in.” A new kind of pain strikes your heart, a pang of longing. While you love Lennor and your adoptive father, a piece of you wishes you’d known your real parents.

“Do you and your brother share any traits?”

You scoff, grimacing as the movement jostles your leg. “We’re practically opposites. Lennor is always stuck in his books. While I can see the value in it, I find no enjoyment in reading. I feel most fulfilled in the guard.”

“You seem adept at it,” Elrond praises you. “I must admit, Lennor’s devotion to his texts surpasses even my own. I would make the same choice as you.”

This stuns you. “You would rather be a guard? Over Lord of Rivendell?”

“Well, not exactly. Being the protector of Rivendell grants me freedom to do as I wish, within some limits. But if all I had was my texts and politics, if I had no chance to do things such as this… then yes, I would give it up.” Elrond smiles at you. “Does this surprise you?”

You think for a moment. “I suppose I don’t know you well enough to be surprised. I always imagined you were… further away.”

Elrond chuckles lightly. “Such is the curse of my position. Many don’t see me as just like you, as a member of the Eldar. They think I am above them somehow. But I am similar in more ways than you know.”

Silence grows between the two of you. By now, night has almost completely fallen. Somewhere in the distance, an owl hoots.

“You called me melethel,” a delirious smile forms on your lips. “I like that.”

“Yes?” Elrond responds, his hand rubbing small circles on your shoulder. “Then I shall continue to use it for you, melethel.”

You hum in response, feeling too weak to form words. The world falls into a haze around you again as your eyelids droop closed.

“Y/N?” Elrond’s voice grows louder as he repeats your name. “Stay with me, melethel.”

“Sleepy,” you grumble, the danger of the situation not registering.

Elrond is quiet for a moment. “I have to carry you out, Y/N. It is unsafe for us to stay here, I worry… We need to get you treated as soon as possible.”

You hum again, barely comprehending his words.

Elrond’s hands move to cradle you gently, being careful not to disturb you too much. He worries about internal injury, something he has missed, but he knows that time is of the essence.

As he picks you up off the ground, your eyes fly open with a cry of pain.

Elrond tightens his grip, whispering, “I know, I know. Just hold on. I’ll get you out of here.”

He works his way down the ravine, spotting an area where the wall slopes gently enough for him to climb. He begins to work his way up, stopping every time you cry out to reassure you. The climb is arduous, each step a struggle.

Finally, after numerous stops and a few close calls, Elrond emerges from the ravine with you still secure in his arms. He carefully settles you onto the back of Arahael before reaching for Mereneth’s reins. He ties the two horses together before mounting Arahael behind you. One hand holds onto the reins, the other around your chest to keep you steady.

Elrond does not hold back as he commands Arahael forward as fast as he can. He feels you drooping in his arm, and he continues to murmur assurances. “Almost there, melethel. Hold on.”

The journey back to Rivendell seems endless, the night seeming darker than usual to Elrond’s half-elven eyes. Elrond feels the protection of Vilya wrap around them once again, and you slump back into his chest. He knows you’ve fallen unconscious, and he spurs Arahael on faster.

Just as the gates come into sight, a small group rushes out to meet the two of you. Elrond recognizes Estedir, your patrol captain.

Arahael has hardly stopped before Elrond dismounts and gently pulls you down. He shouts to Estedir, “She’s gravely injured; help me get her to the healing halls.”

…

You wake to the sensation of sunlight on your cheek, the warmth filling you with life. A dull pain aches through your leg and head, but other than that you feel worlds better than you did before. You open your eyes to see the soft light of morning filtering through the windows of the healing halls. You turn your head to see Elrond seated beside you, his expression a mix of relief and joy.

Elrond leans in, one of his hands reaching for yours. “You’re awake. How do you feel?”

“Achy,” you answer honestly. “But better.”

The elven lord hands you a tall glass. “Drink,” he commands.

You sip slowly, the water tinged with a medicinal taste. “Thank you,” you reply once you finish. Both of you understand that your gratitude is not just for the water.

“I am sorry you had to endure such pain, melethel,” Elrond murmurs.

You squeeze his hand. “It is no matter. What matters is that I am safe, and you are here.”

Elrond smiles at you, his eyes filled with affection. “Rest, now. Recover. I will be here when you wake.”

[septimaseverinawannawrite]

With Talk of Summertime

Fandom : Prime's The Rings of Power

Type : One Shot

Pairing: TROP!Elrond x Wife! Reader

Summaries: It's not easy to cope after slaining the Orcs, even a few decades ago. But, luckily, Elrond is there for you.

Content : Fluff. Established Relationship.

Warning: Angst. Depiction of mental health (PTSD). Depiction of gore. Hurt/Comfort. My first English poem it's silly please forgive me. My hypothetical Sindarin. My English (is my second language). Using of Y/N.

Rate: T+

Word: 1,810

A/N: This is my affection to TROP!Elrond. He is adorable, wise and nerdbrave, it hurts. 🥺🥺🥺. By the way...feel free to correct any mistake!

🌹Click to My AO3

You thought they would not disturb you anymore and any further.

But you were totally and completely wrong after all, what had you just seen and experienced them in your own sleep – dream.

And why did they wrong you now? Especially this time of the year, when you were supposed to be joyous and pleased with one-week long celebration; all days, all nights.

You had woken up when most of musicians, bards and poets – who had stayed up since the previous evening – were retreating to their quarters, sparred just undertone notes and tunes lingering in the air. Climbing out of the bed, hobbled out of the room to the door that led to a balcony, and you sat down on cold hard floor.

You stared outward, through the gaps between trees, leaves, and monuments, wanderingly and aimlessly: sat still right there without moving; even chill and frigid breeze from western wind that numbed on your exposed skins could not irritate you.

And you could barely breathe. Right here. Right now.

Little had you known was the moment you pulling a blanket out and moving away from the bed; your husband, the High King Gil-Galad’s Herald, Elrond Peredhel was returning back to the quarter – perfect timing. Since he must stay for the basis of courtesy and rank, until honourable guesses and the High King dismissing, while you had retreated earlier than him, when one noble elf from Eregion mentioning about recent irregularity nearby his house.

That was not supposed to aggravate you, as you ignored that tale.   

In spite of murksome bedchamber, Elrond sensed, no, saw you sitting on a cold floor in a mere thin and lucent nightgown. Dim light from candles outside the bed chamber cast hued shadow behind where you were; stiffen straight manner became crooking, knees closed up to a chin, both arms hugged both legs tightly – trying to protect yourself from what had lurked in your mind.

He removed the brooch and pin that hold his cloaked together and a leather belt of his sword, hung them on cloth-pole next to the vanity, before approaching you in quiet manner – afraid that he would panic you more than this presence.     

‘No, I am not really there, where the darkness and those abominably twisted creatures are; I am home, I am under the light of the Great Tree, bright cloudless sky with my beloved’

Closing your eyes, tears ran down along your cheeks, you started muttering the phrase, the reminder that kept you staying sane, quietly.

‘No, I am not really there, where the darkness and those abominably twisted creatures are; I am home, I am under the light of the Great Tree, bright cloudless sky with my beloved’

And kept breathing; breathed in the fresh air of this pleasant night, breathed out while continued the litany repetitively:

‘…No, I am not really there, I am home…No. I. Am Not. Really There…’

All indistinct pictures, even sounds and chilliness from earlier began to prevail, more and more distinctively. You shook your head, orally reciting them.

“I am under the light of the Great Tree…I am home…I am under the bright cloudless sky…”

Nevertheless, those visions and sound completed themselves right in your imagination, as if it was pulling you back in time:

Sword and daggers in your hands slew those abominable and twisted creatures – the Orcs – with rapid and sharp blows. Dark liquid splashed across your face, as the darkness crept around you…until you could not see anything but protruding eyeballs.

“…I am under the light…”

You whimpered, murmured, then started sobbing. The four sides of bedchamber’s wall squeezed you, both physically and mentally; the hitching breath, at the very first of this struggle, gradually became chokes and smothering.    

Seemed as likewise as the weir breaking out; pool of tears in your eyes’ sockets rapidly fell down along your cold cheeks, fisting the material of your nightgown tightly, you shook harder.

“No…I…I…I…” You tried reciting those words, even if they were almost smothering, “I am…I…am…I am under the br—”

Perilous completely blurred before your senses and your mind. Darkness and death, finally, overwhelmed and defeat the light that you persisting to seize with whole of your own body; they were impeding you from the smooth and soft voice ringing behind you, totally deafness.

“No! Silence! Stop…Please…Please don’t…”

Sniveling, cried and screeched like maniac, you pushed and teared a pair of big, yet soft hands which holding your shoulder and forearm.

“Y/N…”

“Let me go!”

“Y/N!”

“Hands off!” 

You shouted, wriggled and screamed in high pitch. Over and over. Again, and again. Gripping and tightened your skirt tighter, almost tore it down.

“Elen Nîn!”   

Then you heard the words; meant for only your ears, just yours alone. The voice that seems far and distance away gradually became clarifying. You woke. coming back to sense; not all, those illusion faded out, replacing by gentle and familiar face.

“I’m here…” Elrond had sat beside you, whispered softly, “I’m here with you, Y/N.”

“Meleth Nîn?”

Raspy voice slipped out from your quivering mouth, your eyes got wider, before blinking twice; dispelling wetness away.

“You’re safe now, my star. Those dreadful and horrific deeds are long gone, out of reach and far away.”

“But I see them…Grotesque, ghastful and—”

“Shh...Forget those monstrous terror, Elen Nîn. They can neither hurt nor haunt you now.

“Elrond…”

You still sobbed and whimpered; trying to take control over your own body again, nevertheless, tears kept traveling its path. All you could do now was closing your eyes.

Elrond tenderly pull the back of your head close to his forehead. He cradled your cheek, wrapped his other arm around your body like a blanket, murmured and solacing you:

“…Of what and where darker than darkness dwelt, with the grace of Elebereth; O luminous and light expand from her shining hands, over the sunless and moonless land – million sparkles through velvet sky, they fly…”

It was his own poem. The poem he wrote you after he confessed his heart out to you, and proceeded courting you, about two decades ago, but it never ceased to please your ears.

Meanwhile continued reciting fine proses and proses, he lifted you up, straight to the bed, before laying you down on soft and feathery mattress.

“Weep no more, my star.”

He lolloped beside you. An arm reached behind to hold you in his arm until his curls touching your skin, another one – caressing your hair – trail down your temple, nose, cheek, ear and chin.

Though looked up, meeting his orbs with yours; puffed red pair; pale face; messy hair and bruised fingernail marks upon your forearms, Elrond still reckoned that you were captivating him.

He smiled down at you, sealed your forehead with his plushy lips, continuing his verses:       

“For the time passes by, Kementari ploughs and pries, for tall trees and pines sprout sowing… In blooming, summer arriving, brightening every evening like eternal.”

You felt warmness of the world again, eventually. His gentle tone in his delicate and mild voice soothed your utmost core; you stopped shaking and shivering, breathing was much slower and more even, pursing lips unraveled into relax form, altogether with your feet.

“Darkness and winter but just the endless season on earth, my dearest.”

In Elrond’s embrace, you snuggled up to his chest, as you listened to the smooth rhythm of his heartbeats; they calmed your cadence down until it was grown closing to state of normal. Henceforth, you prolonged this one of his masterpieces. Your sound was less quiver – steadier:

“After the frozen and withered, as Tilion’s journey on the heaven above at endings of Springtime, and Anarien’s ascendant from the most eastern horizon beyond the sea; Summertime has begun…”

“…Summertime has begun…Yes…The Golden Leaves, and thin delicate Daisies to big Bignonias, shall wave countless shining gleaming colours onto greenery floor.”

He repeated the phrase, nodded leisurely to affirm your words. Both of you smiling to each other, giggling a little. 

For Elrond; your tears had ceased, beginning to dry and fading away under the light outside which passing through bedchamber – glittering like the million diamonds and plain golds around.

For you; Elrond’s face and expression were beautiful and much more softening, as always, when those haunted memories struck before getting the best out of you. His gentle touches and kindness brought the light – your eternal Sun – within you back again.

“Other glore to bloom, to blossom here and there.”

You sighed with delightful and pure bliss nearby.

“When you write the High King speeches under the Beech, I shall adorn you with orange’s blossom crown.”

“Then I shall write you more songs and poems, so we are going to be exceedingly indulging ourselves, under the golden light; tasting all sweet and sour berries, dancing and singing until we fatigue, and so, looking above the ocean of stars and listening to the sound of seagulls and the streams.”

“Elsewise, just jump into the streams and swimming with lovely creatures wherein they reside…” You purred, enchantingly, as he kept stroking your hair and brushing your face with delicate in every touch of his fingers “But you, no need to deliberate me about how they arriving this world, promise me?”

Elrond chuckled amusingly tinting with a little bit nervous. You knew the redness and hotness had been creeping along his face to his ears and neck already.   

“Don’t you treasure my attainment at all, Elen Nîn?”

“Oh…I do always more than treasure your intellect, Meleth Nîn, no doubt…”

You, at this moment were happier now, bent your husband head down, giving a long, but chaste and loving kiss upon his mouth, and could sense his wide smile spreading on your lips.

“Gi melin, i-galad e-guil nîn.”

You breathed, of course, unruffled now, playing with his curls on your face.

“No, Gi melin rovaer.”

He kissed back, shifting his weight down from your body, yet hovering those lips over yours.

“Should I trust the man who prepares and arranges words into numerous soul-propelling speeches?”

“Believe me, you would not let me roam this world without you forever, since your smile captivating me from that day, if you have never trusted me until this minute.”

“You wordsmith!” Merrily laughing out louder than earlier, you push him to his side. “Go get change, Meleth Nîn, or I would not let you lay on the same bed to me!”

Elrond stole one more kiss on your nose, warm and joyful grin still plastered on his face, before turned away and taking his outer robe off – again, turned toward, lounged on the bed, leaned in, and pecking your chin.

“Please bid me into your mesmeric dream…”

The consciousness that remained in you humming quietly to his appeal. Seem like the Valar heard his desire, so they blessed; you and your beloved now and forever did meet each other in same visions.

[insomnimoni]

fellas how we feelin w this description for an upcoming elrond fic 🫣

are we ready for some angst ?

[maximwtf]

“listlessness.”

 Elrond x Reader

words: 2170

google docs pages: 4

warnings: Hurt with no comfort, death, griefing

opening: After your passing, Elrond tries to shake off the memories of you in every room of his house. Though, this task proves to be harder than he could have ever imagined. 

AN// Reader can be any gender. I haven’t written a good old angst in a while, and I feel like this had to be done because of that. Went full on out with this, angst with absolutely no comfort :”D I used lyrics from this beautiful -> song

           “listlessness.”

You’d fallen ill one day, and as much as you kept telling Elrond that you’d be fine, he kept fussing over you. Neither of you could figure out what was wrong, and your condition kept getting worse by the time wasted with no answers on how to help. Even when you had become bedridden, you kept telling the Lord of Rivendell that you’d bounce back up eventually, that if he just calmed down for a moment, things would get better. That of course never changed anything, his care for you combined with the mind of a healer didn’t allow him to get almost any rest at all as he fussed over you. It hurt to watch him be so worried, ignoring some of his duties while trying his best to find answers, to find a cure. 

At some point guests and other elves had started to notice the way he had changed. You told him this, told him that people would find out about the secret the two of you had kept so well hidden for so long. You’d been courting him, silently and out of the picture since neither of you wanted to reveal it so suddenly, but took your time with it instead. Elrond’s children had their suspicions, but they kept it to themselves, having respect for their father and his relationships. But it was the guests and Elrond’s assistants and such that worried you, even when the mystery illness was bringing you down along with it. He heard your concerns, and as much as he worried about others finding out before it was the right time for it, he did not care. No secret he could have thought of was so important, as to surpass your wellbeing. That was of the utmost importance to him, had always been. 

Time had started to pass in a weird pattern for you, sleeping had become such an important part of your day that it had begun to feel like it was the only thing you were able to do. Sometimes when you woke up, Elrond was there. He’d talk to you for as long as you were able to talk. Sometimes you tried to stay awake past your limits, but in those cases Elrond would stop the conversations. He was not stupid, and as much as he loved spending time with you, he was not going to allow you to harm yourself by talking to him. He would assure you that he’d be right back whenever you woke up again, leaving you to sleep. 

This lasted for some time, Elrond visiting you while working and trying to find a cure. But internally the both of you knew that you didn’t have much time left. And if the cure didn’t magically appear, you wouldn’t make it for much longer. Either way it hurt Elrond to watch you suffer through every day, fighting with the small amounts of energy that you still had within you. You’d always been so strong. So in a way, he was glad. Glad, when he had entered the all too familiar room from the past months where he found you unresponsive. He silenced the spikes of grief in that moment with the thought of it being selfish. Selfish to miss you so, when he knew it was better this way if it had been him who had failed to find the cure. You could now rest at ease.

Maybe it was the whole of Rivendell, or perhaps it was just him. But everything felt silent, a colourless silence that had overtook the whole building, a feeling that followed the Lord of Rivendell wherever he went. Elrond continued to complete his duties as he had before, with the same care. But out of all the burdens that he had been through within his whole long life, this one’s weight was heavy. Heavier than he could have ever imagined. He had told himself in the past that he understood that you were a human, that you’d live a life that would pass fastly in his eyes. That if he was going to go further, to court you, he’d have to come to terms with that. And that was something you had asked for him to understand as well, knowing how important he was to Rivendell. But you had not lived the long life he had wished for you to have, the life that you had deserved to live. It’d been cut short, way too short. 

There is still an empty shelf in the closet for your belongings

Time passed, just as it had when you’d still been there with him. And time would keep passing by, no matter how much he wished for it to stop. Stop, just for a moment to give him time to think. To give him a moment to sit down and process. That was what his inner mind craved for, but what he did instead was continue life. He tried to block off the feeling, keeping himself busy and keeping the thought in his mind that it would have been selfish for him to feel the way he wished he could. Would have you wanted for him to cry after you, to seem clingy for something that wasn’t there anymore?

But his attempts at that were most of the time useless. Every time he was left alone, with no duties to go complete, the thoughts and memories came back. You’d been with him every day, in the same house with him for so long. He hadn’t had the heart to throw away your belongings yet, he did not wish to touch them. They felt pure in a way as they were, the last person who had been in contact with them being you. Though he knew he should put them away. If not throw away then perhaps store them somewhere close to him. Maybe that seemed silly, foolish of him even. 

He should have by now been used to loss. He’d seen many failed attempts with healing others, and this should have been just like that. But that was again what he kept telling himself. 

One day he took it upon himself to empty the shelves in your shared quarters. He did end up saving the items, storing them away for he did not have the heart to get rid of them. The grief he hadn’t let wash over him was making him do it, whether he liked it or not. And Elrond let it. He had thought of asking for someone else to do it for him, but that felt wrong as well. He wanted to heal himself in a way, but that was not something he was used to. So he believed that doing this may have been the help he needed.

and space for you on the bed, still waiting

But that was not the only thing he wasn’t used to. With the countless memories he had with you in the house, in all of the rooms there was one that reminded him of you the most. Mornings and nights that used to be a comfort for him before entering another hectic day had now turned into something he wished he could avoid. The now half empty bed he had shared with you, the place that had taken you ages to get used to sharing even when Elrond had told you countless times that it was okay. That place was now strange without you there. Even giving it a look, not daring to lay down brought a nowadays familiar feeling to him. The burn that started from the back of his throat and then moved up to the back of his eyes and soon brought up tears, which he shook off every time. 

waiting for you to silently press your head on my chest, when you can’t sleep

As many times as he tried, the tears always welled back up. Shaking them away never helped, and Elrond knew that. He had tried it multiple times, at the start- and at the end of every day since you had left and never did it work. But nevertheless he needed sleep. He could work as much as he wanted and try to ignore his emotions, but at some point he needed to stop and get some rest. It humoured Elrond to hear himself tell the patients he took care of to get some rest. That they’d feel better after that when he himself hadn’t slept in an unforgivable time. Elrond wasn’t one to self neglect, but the loss he was feeling was too much to bear in his sleep. He could go for a good long while before he felt the need to get any rest, but alas it still caught up to him. 

So he still laid down, still tried to take care of himself. He did it because he knew that’s something you would have wanted him to do even if you weren’t there anymore. That was one of the rare thoughts that gave him peace of mind. Everything that used to be familiar and comforting on the bed was now gone.

Due to him not having to sleep as much as a human, he had never been a heavy sleeper. He woke up easily, which had never bothered him. Most of the time he’d simply been there for you, and enjoyed stirring awake to you cuddling up closer. It gave him a reason to not get up until you’d wake up again, a reason for his mind to stop thinking about all the duties he had to fulfil. He was occupied. 

I’m missing you here, every day so much

Elrond knew people eventually started to notice his change, and if someone dared to ask him if he was alright, he insisted. Insisted that he would be fine, and that this was going to pass so there was no need to worry. At some point he even believed it himself. In his long lifetime he had seen and experienced so much, and he had learned to put his trust on time. As it passed, he had always begun to feel better as he moved on. Though, this sadness felt different, still just as heavy as before. 

Elrond still kept on doing the routines he had followed before all this. He dined with his family, sometimes even had guests over to eat with him. Of course, word got around and at some point the people he had over also knew of what had happened. Not only did they know of your passing, but they had started to wonder why he cared so deeply about one mortal from all of the people Elrond had taken care of in his life. Of course at some point it started to be clear to them that he must have been courting you, but since neither of you hadn’t had the time to reveal it officially, none of his guests asked him about it. In this way, showing their respect for the man.

I’ll keep putting out a plate for you, even if you never came again

The chefs had stopped putting out a plate for you soon after your passing had been announced, though Elrond had not come to that realisation for a long time after. He used to have supper with you, alone. He’d made time for that every day, because he enjoyed the company you provided when there was no one else around. Sometimes the shared dinners became a little hectic, and as much as he did not mind it at all, he held it close to his heart whenever he saw you arrive at the shared table for supper. 

So each time for supper he had found himself at that same table, putting out a plate for you. The first time he felt his heart ache, pull in different directions as he took a deep breath and collected the utensils away. By now, whenever he found himself repeating the same action he didn’t remove the plates. Maybe somewhere in his mind he was wishing you’d arrive back at some point, as foolish as that thought may have been. 

I’m missing you here, every day so much

After all this time, after all his duties, he always found himself leaving his study and making his way outside. The house and all the rooms within it felt less homely than they ever had before. So his mind made him wander back into the gardens, where he sometimes sat for hours. A place where he could be alone, where he didn’t used to be alone. But even without your physical presence there, it somehow didn't feel as pressuring as the air in the house. The usually calm sigh he used to calm himself was shaky today. From stress and piled up grief. When the first tear rolled down his cheek, the warmth within him in that moment felt like it started to return the colours around him. Slowly, but they started to come back. 

AN// I felt like I made this a little longer than necessary, but hopefully no one minds. Either way I feel like we need some more Elrond content here !

[queers-gambit]

Match Made in Grey Haven

prompt: ( requested ) you find yourself in what feels like a distant relationship through penned letters. overcome with shyness during his visits, you avoid Herald Elrond - until your grandfather (and co.) steps in as matchmaker.

pairing: Elrond x shy!female!reader

fandom masterlist: The Rings of Power

word count: 2.9k+

note: it's not much, i'm so sorry.

warnings: takes place BEFORE the events of TROP, abrupt ending, small hurt mostly comfort, feelings are hard, author is very abrasive and isn't sure this is conveyed fully as "shy" so i'm sorry, anxiety, unedited, wonky brain goes wonky, fluff, small drama, lost + healthy family relationships, romance, friends-to-lovers.

part two: The Risk

"You appear ill at-ease," Círdan mentioned as he casually strolled from the shadows of his workshop, the last of the day lingering in a warm glow, "which I am not accustomed to seeing on a face such as yours."

Elrond, busy at work carving one of the perfect ships his old master was crafting a fleet of, barely slowed down but did glance up in acknowledgment. He sniffled hastily, looking back at the pliable wood under his hands.

"Merely focused, my Lord, nothing more."

"Hm," Círdan hummed, pacing around slowly, hands clasped behind his back, chin up, shoulders back, grey locks glistening in familiar waves, "interesting choice of words."

"How so?" Elrond paused to pet the curve of the wood, trying in vain to hide his true bubbling feelings. He went straight back to work, aware Círdan watched him closely.

"Y/N said the exact same." This made the High King's Herald pause in full, Círdan smirking, "Ah, just as I suspected."

"I do not think - "

"You fool nobody but yourself," Círdan chuckled, waving off Elrond's words and stepping closer to admire the boat carving. "She cares for you, too, you know?"

"With respect, my Lord... But you are mistaken," Elrond deflected. "Your granddaughter and I, we are merely friends - if that. We only exchange letters - "

"And feelings," Círdan pointed out, watching Elrond flush under his interrogation. Just outside the doors, you approached, thinking you would fetch your grandfather for supper; slowing when the older, wiser Elf tisked, "Ah, come now, Elrond, do not look so forlorn, there are worst fates than that of emotional - "

"With respect," Elrond repeated, cutting Círdan off, your hand hovering over the door handle, "there are no emotions involved when it comes to your granddaughter."

You froze.

"Yet I will not believe that," Círdan shot back.

"There is little to be said that might sway you, my Lord, but it is true. We are..." You listened as Elrond took a sharp inhale, "We are friends, nothing more. Our foundation lays in companionship, we exchange letters - share our thoughts, ideas, and feelings. There's nothing more."

Círdan hummed in amusement, "That so? Then... Why, in the past 6 months, have you come here - what is it? Six? Seven times?"

"Eight," Elrond corrected automatically, wincing when your grandfather chuckled and you lowered your hand. Yet you did not walk away yet.

"You claim business with the High King brings you to us so frequently," Círdan continued, "yet, the matters discussed can be solved through letters alone. Nothing that deems an emissary. So, tell me in truth... Why?"

"My Lord?"

"Why do you come? I know it is not for Gil-Galad alone, so, tell me in truth, why the frequent trips?"

You could hear Elrond resume his wood carving and you became acutely aware of your position. Backing away, you fled the scene, petrified over the idea of being caught; yet your mind was stuffed full with what you heard. It'd been years since you first met Elrond, the young, fresh, baby-faced Herald of the High King; and while initially fascinatingly attracted to him, you were detrimentally shy.

Like, so shy, it makes you mute - to an extent.

He wasn't a Herald yet, though, and came to apprentice under your grandfather. Elrond became a constant presence around the Grey Havens - a talented, shining star of a student who studied diligently. You admired his work from afar at first, then, Círdan asked you to row one of Elrond ships around the harbor.

It was well known you were the apple of Círdan's eye; his favorite thing in the material world, the reason he refused to give himself over to the Valar yet. He was supposed to sail... But his daughter was soon to give birth, so he waited; and thankfully, because plague claimed your father and mother from complications of your birth. So, Círdan raised you.

Elrond panicked at Círdan's request, stepping into your pathway without thought and gasping, "No!" You shied back into your grandfather's side, the dark haired Elf amending swiftly, "I apologize, I-I did not mean to be so - so abrupt. But... Let me work a few more days, ensure it is to perfection."

You smiled gently and nodded, Círdan smirking and leading you away - the start of a formal friendship. After testing Elrond's boat (when ready), you sent him a note that expressed your impression and complimenting his woodworking skills, even saying you looked forward to his future creations.

His first letter back to you was one of thousands, and the start of his Heraldry.

Yet now, in present day, you wondered if these letters weren't enough and if he thought you untruthful in your declaration of affection. While your companionship had now lasted decades, you were still insecure enough that you lose wit, cheek, and tongue when he's around. And now, the past half a year, you've seen him eight times and couldn't muster your courage, and perhaps, it wasn't enough for Elrond anymore.

You just expressed yourself better in words! And you didn't leave Círdan's side; you did not venture around Middle-earth, never left your sanctuary. You adored Elrond's accounts of adventures and travels and work, it was your only time to "live", even if vicariously.

Now, worriment set in; anxious that you weren't enough.

"Ah," Círdan hummed as he and Elrond entered your humble home for supper, "it smells divine in here, sweet girl."

"Thank you," you whispered, setting the table for the meal as Elrond was the one who would not meet your eye.

"I'll be a moment, I need to wash up," he excused himself, always presentable; forever perfect.

You just sighed as he slipped from the room; a typical guest in your home, especially with his...recent increased business from the High King. "You seem pensive," Círdan noted, taking the bowl of salad to the table for you. "Is there anything on your mind you wish to discuss?"

"Nothing of note."

"Then speak to me of something not of note."

"If it is of no note, Grandfather, why give it voice?"

"Because it still takes up room, be it in your head and heart - which gives it validation to speak of."

You paused at the table, finding him grinning, offering an unamused glare. "I told you not to do that," you reprimanded softly.

"Do what?"

"Your - little - your pearls wisdom!" You groaned childishly, collapsing into a chair. "You can let me stew and figure things out for myself, we do not always have to speak of matters. It is an unfair advantage that I am inundated with your pearls and others toil for direction!"

Círdan chuckled, folding his hands before his dinner plate. "To complain of such an advantage is - "

"I know."

"Then why do it?"

"Because..."

"You are frustrated with your own emotion that you refuse to give life to?"

With a huff, you nodded, "Exactly."

"What is the matter?"

Your head shook in deflection, "Perhaps, I am just overwhelmed. I think I'll take a walk - "

"But supper - "

"I'll eat later," you promised, reaching out to lay your hand on his and smile, "I just need a few moments to breathe. Eat, enjoy, I'll find you later."

You left before another word could be spoken. When Elrond reentered the kitchen, he only found Círdan and wondered, "Where's Y/N?"

"She seemed distraught, saddened by something. She decided to go for a walk, clear her head a bit."

"Right," Elrond nodded, feeling awkward just standing there.

"Come, sit, eat," Círdan invited with a small smirk, "she's probably gone off to the workshop, she likes to write there. Says it's more inspiring than the library. Come, Elrond... She'll be awhile."

Elrond frowned and looked to the door, Círdan knowing his words were replaying in the half-Elf's mind. "Perhaps I should check on her?" He asked his old Master. "It would be wrong to eat without the chef, would it not?"

"I was thinking the same," the older, greying Elf nodded, "though you waste your time, that girl is stubborn - trapped in her mind too often."

"How do you mean?"

"It's why she writes," Círdan explained, "at least, why she writes you, I imagine. She often loses her voice, feels as if she is not entitled to it's very being - so, she writes, uses her words... And seemingly, you understand them best - relate to her, in a way. So," he took a breath, "go, if you wish, but know, she's unlikely to speak."

Elrond was out the door before Círdan could uncork the bottle of wine left on the table. He smirked to himself, musing, "Oh, these kids..."

You had left your home and made a beeline for your grandfather's workshop, shutting the doors with a great big breath of relief before groaning in emotional frustration. "Oh, how silly!" You snipped to yourself, "This is all so silly, it makes no sense! I mean, the way I just shut down? It's so silly! Losing my voice? Over a man? Oh, just rubbish!" Your hands shook out violently. "I just need to say it, you know? I just need to say it - then he knows, he'll know and I can get rid of this silly feeling. He deserves to hear me say it, else he might think he's unwelcome, he might not want to visit..." You were unaware of Elrond approaching the door, opening it as you groaned once more, "OH! He's just a lad! He's just like you, you silly lass! Well, not entirely just like me - but he's just - he's just Elrond! What is there to fear!?"

"Is there someone else here I should address?" Elrond smirked gently as he stepped forward to make himself known, "Or do you often speak of me, to yourself?"

You squeaked and came to a halt, dress twirling around your ankles when you spun to face him. Hands came together, instantly threading your fingers and wringing them together nervously as your visitor smiled gently and slowly (so slowly) stepped forward. With a deep breath, you greeted, "Lord Elrond."

"Oh, please," he sighed, "are we not past formalities?"

"Far beyond," you agreed, shaking your head and facing the open wall that showcased the harbor and horizon; the last of the sunlight streaking the sky with water-painted color.

"It felt wrong to indulge on such a gorgeous creature without the architect being there to experience it first," he told you, coming to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with respectable distance still between you. "Yet you fled before..."

"I'm sorry," you blurted out, feeling suffocated briefly, "I could not linger."

"Is there a reason to feel unwelcome in your own home?"

You took a breath, "Well, um, it's just - it's you... You are the reason..."

Elrond startled, "What? I-I'm sorry, what have I done? What did I do?"

"You're you," you turned to him, "and that's not your fault, but you're you, and it drives me to insanity."

"I don't think I follow? I thought - in our letters, I thought we had a connection. That we understood one another...? And now that I'm here, you shy away from me, have I truly offended you so gravely?"

"No, Elrond, you have not offended me - it's the opposite," you risked your own comfort and reached out for his bicep first; which, in turn, made him step closer. "You are not betrayed, nor are you mistaken. There's a connection, of course there is. I do not know anyone who could fake such affection for such an extended period of time," you scoffed.

"Perhaps Sauron - "

"But you nor I are he."

"No," Elrond smiled gently, shifting his arms downward to hold your elbows and caress you into his chest as your hands were rearranged to his chest, "we are not, thank the Valar."

"I do not deceive you. The affection I hold for you, it's authentic and genuine. It's real, Elrond, it's real..."

"It is?" He asked, lifting a hand to hold your jaw; thumb caressing the apple of your cheek.

"It is. I was just... You disarm me. You make me small again, you make me tongue-tied, confused, excited - like everything is new again. And it both scares and invigorates me that I do not know what to do in those moments, so I hide from you. In your letters, I can plan my words; but when you're here, in front of me, under my hands," you cooed, petting his velvet tunic, "I lose my nerve. My senses..."

Elrond chuckled, hands drifting down to hold you by the base of your ribcage, "This... This is a relief to hear. I worried I offended you, that I had upset you in some way. That I ruined this before it had a chance to take shape."

"Hardly," you mused. "I lose my nerve around you, I feel so silly - so young and green to love..."

"'Love'?" He repeated.

"Oh, I just - I only meant - "

"Take comfort in the fact that the feeling is mutual, my sweet." Elrond chuckled, caressing your cheek lovingly, "I fear the High King may grow tired of me asking to personally deliver Círdan his letters."

"Perhaps I will have to find reason to visit you?"

"I would like that, perhaps more than I should admit," he whispered, slowly lowering his lips onto yours for a much awaited kiss - giving you every opportunity to back out, but it's not like you ever would. Not when you've waited for this for so long. His hand now cupped your jaw, sliding sweetly towards the back of your neck. Kissing Elrond was everything you thought: soft, gentle, evenly-paced, commandeering, all encompassing, and mind-numbing; you never wanted this to end, you never wanted to stop kissing him.

However, your moment was cut short by a loud crunching; pulling back as Elrond did, both turning to the main doors to spy your grandfather, Círdan, standing there smugly. He was holding a bowl made of bamboo, eating a crisp salad, barely holding back his grin. Upon seeing his mirthful expression, you deflated into Elrond's chest; his arm coiling around your waist to keep you anchored in place while the other dropped to open his stance - proving he didn't feel defensive.

"Grandfather?" You questioned softly.

"Mh," he swallowed his bite, "don't mind me, just appreciating the fruits of my labor."

"I beg your pardon?" You laughed.

Círdan shrugged, "You are both young and intelligent. Wise. Insightful," he listed, "yet you are so naïve to think this union was yours alone."

Elrond glanced down at you in confusion, brows furrowed, asking, "What do you mean, my Lord?"

"Grandfather, it was Elrond and I who penned letters for decades - "

"Indeed," Círdan agreed, "but why do you think the High King has sent Lord Elrond to us so often these past few months?"

You were both stunned into silence, Elrond asking, "You? You asked him to...to send me?"

"I did," Círdan nodded, "it is disheartening to see my granddaughter, whom I love so utterly and dearly, driven into isolation because emotions can be so complicated and difficult. It was time for you two to finally confront your emotions, and after three months, we both knew we had to up our efforts..."

"The High King was in on this!?" You squeaked, feeling embarrassment seize your heart.

"You know, despite being High King, Gil-Galad is still fun," Círdan defended with a smirk. "So, he devised new engagements to send Elrond here for - giving the two of you longer days together between my responses. He agreed to send Herald Elrond himself here upon my encouragement. From your first interaction, I saw what you two have always felt. It's good of you to admit your feelings, is it not? Relieving, I mean?"

"Terribly," you agreed, Elrond rubbing your waist in support.

"Well, then you'll be happy to know, I've begun my response to Gil-Galad, so you'll have a few more days here, Elrond. I expect that boat done," he teased, "and upon your return to Lindon, I will be sending my granddaughter to accompany you as my own emissary."

"What for?" You breathed in shocked happiness, lips turning up brightly.

"It is time you begin a new education, my girl," he grinned, "and the High King has granted his blessing."

"Why would the High King be involved for my education?"

"I want you on a tour of Middle-earth," he explained, "meeting dignitaries, taking notes on what you see, hear, experience. I want detailed accounts, my girl, for our records so the King has agreed to send Herald Elrond to guide your tour."

"You've done all of that... For me?" You couldn't help the tears that sprung to your eyes, pure glee lightening your heart and head. Then, a sudden thought made you worry, "Why? Do you wish to away with me?"

"On the contrary," Cirdan set aside his bowl and approached you, Elrond letting go so you two could meet in the middle of the workshop, "I despise the idea of letting you go, even to carry my work back to the High King... Knowing you'll return shortly... But sending you on this tour is a necessity, sweet girl, because I only trust your written accounts. It's time... It's time for you to see the world I've long protected you from as it truly is and bring us back update records and accounts, and who better to show it to you than Elrond Peredhel?" He smiled, looking over your shoulder at his ex-student. You felt Elrond near your flank, Círdan looking at the two of you fondly; even reaching out to caress your cheek as he breathed in deeply. "What joy my heart feels, knowing you two have found one another."

"What joy we feel you decided to play matchmaker," you chuckled.

"Well, they say perfection only exists in Valinor, but I was determined to challenge that."

part two: The Risk

requesting rules and masterlist

TROP masterlist

[morganas-pendragons]

disbelief | elrond peredhel

gif by goodsirs

this is the hurt/comfort elrond fic I promised. enjoy!

summary: you and elrond mourn. Elrond asks something of you.

please let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future elrond or celebrimbor fics! this one may get a part 2 because the ideas are FLOWING!

tagging: @celebrimbormylove

SPOILERS FOR 2x08

You know your place is not in the heat of battle. Your gifting has always been music, the lithe fingers of a violinist meant to create beauty within the confines of Lindon's hold. You have made your peace with that.

it does not get any easier when you find out that The High King is having Elrond lead the Elven army to Eregion. Eregion, which is under siege, with Lord Celebrimbor right at the center.

Your heart aches. Celebrimbor is one of Elrond's most beloved kin, and you dread what he may find upon arriving at Eregion.

"He is best suited for this role, and you know it," Gil-Galad remarks as he strides across his study, leaving you to linger by the door as you nervously fiddle with your hands. It is the first time you and Elrond will be apart since your confession of feelings. It is not surprising you are apprehensive to watch him leave. "I do not make promises idly. If I promise that I will return him to you. You do trust my word, do you not?"

"I do, High King."

There's little you can say to Elrond when you meet him at the gate at dawn, still dressed in your nightrobes and tugging messily on your loose hair. It is a nervous habit that you have kept for quite some time that Elrond has tried to break you of by offering to braid your hair every night before you sleep.

You let him. If anything, you are always going to let Elrond treat you with that gentle love he only reserves for you. With those tender touches that cradle you as if you are his most precious, with those eyes that always seek out your own as if he finds respite within your gaze.

As if he finds the ability to embrace the Half-Elven he has hated for so much of his life.

"Meleth nin." Elrond's voice breaks through your reverie as he approaches to cradle your hands in his own. Your aspect softens as you shift closer to press your forehead to his. "You did not need to come see me off. The sun has barely risen over the hills."

"I wish to say goodbye to my beloved," You reply quietly. Reaching into your robes, you produce a handkerchief with your initials pressed into the corner and curl his fingers around it. You'd carefully doused it in the perfume you often wear since your first date in the gardens. "And to tell you to come home to me."

Elrond lifts the handkerchief to his nose and inhales deeply. It is a pleasant scent. One that provokes intimate memories bathed in light.

It is more than enough to keep him fighting.

"I will come home to you." His words are a declaration, a promise written between you both that is sealed with a handkerchief and a kiss shadowed by twilight as you part. "Until then, namárië, my love."

You are left alone at Lindon's gates to watch him depart with the rest of the Elvish army and Gil-Galad. He has specifically asked you to tend to the others who remain while they are both gone, claiming that your ability to create beauty amid such darkness and death was commendable.

The Elves would need it if they were to survive Sauron.

***

The word reaches you through one of the couriers that stumble through Lindon's tree line, bloodied and bruised but carrying a hastily scribbled note from the High King.

Eregion lost. Celebrimbor slain. Return to us with whoever remains in Lindon to this location.. protected by the 3 Rings of Power.

You hold your breath as you scan through the rest of the note.

Elrond is alive.

Relief floods through your body as you scramble back through the gates and begin calling orders to the healers and remaining survivors who remained behind to begin packing their belongings to travel. The group you lead is few, but many of them are in good spirits and are ready to tend to the wounded who fought bravely on the front lines of battle against Sauron.

You're halfway to Gil-Galad's disclosed location when you realize that he's said Celebrimbor has been slain. "Oh, Celebrimbor," You whisper, running the backs of your hands across your eyes as tears blur your vision. You had great respect and a deep admiration for the Elven Smith. He was one of the only elves you'd ever come across who could really understand the depth of your passion for the arts. "Be peaceful, my friend."

Elrond was surely beside himself with grief. You had to find him, and you had to find him soon.

Your party ventured into the cliffs of Gil-Galad's newest sanctuary, guarded by what Elven royal guards remained who guided you toward the waterfall where a makeshift medical tent sat proudly against the rays of sun that fell upon it.

Galadriel is the first to greet you. "It is good to see you, old friend," She greeted, wincing as you pulled your hand away from her shoulder like you had been burned. "I apologize. I was wounded in battle with Sauron."

"You were what-"

She shakes her head and motions to the smaller tent behind the main one. "I know that you have little in the gift of healing, but Elrond could use your care. I had him moved to the secondary tent for more privacy. He is.." Galadriel bowed her head and exhaled quietly. It was only then in that moment that you remember how old she really is. "Wracked with grief over Lord Celebrimbor."

Ah.

"Will you communicate to the King that I have arrived with the remainder of the survivors and healers from Lindon?" You ask. Galadriel complies, murmuring her goodbyes under her breath as you remove your belongings just beside the medical tent and begin your trek up through the center aisle to enter the one Elrond occupies.

You're nearly knocked off your feet by the smell. You have been spared violence and despair for most of your life. To be witness to such devastation brought upon by the hands of Sauron, and to your Elven kin, stirs an anger deep in your belly that you've never felt before. It hurts. It aches.

He sees you before you see him.

"My love?"

Your eyes flicker through the gap in the tent to find a head of matted, bloodied curls and red-rimmed, sunken eyes staring back at you. Elrond looks exactly like Galadriel has described him to look. He looks like the picture of grief.

That ache in your heart festers at the sight of him as you rush forward, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling yourself up and into his embrace. Elrond grasps you with all the force of a man desperately trying to anchor himself to the world when he'd so easily rather disappear.

"Elrond," You whisper. It is your assurance to know that he is here by that whispered repetition of his name, by feeling the warmth of his skin and the press of metal against your body as he clings to you. "My love-"

"Celebrimbor. Sauron, he-" Elrond snarls quietly into your shoulder as you begin to fumble with removing his armor. You have done it enough times now that the practice is coming more easily. "He took Celebrimbor and killed him. My father said his life was supposed to be in my hands. I tried.. I tried so hard to save his works, but the Uruk burned it and Celebrimbor is dead-"

You can hear the shame he directs at himself as you remove his armor and set it to the side. Elrond has so often taken the weight of other people's responsibilities and expectations upon himself. He wants to be remembered for something other than being Elros' brother, for being the Half-Elven who resides in Lindon. Many of the full-blooded elves have held disdain and contempt against him for something completely out of his control.

He could not control this. Could not control Celebrimbor's decisions or Sauron's actions.

"I mourn Celebrimbor with you, Elrond." You said. You move to step away and grasp the rag and water basin beside you, but Elrond's grip on your body makes it difficult to move. You pause in your place and turn to face him once again, surprised to find his eyes hidden from you and face cast toward the floor. His fingers shake where they lay against your body. "Elrond?"

"His legacy went up in smoke. The Nine are gone, Feanör's statue desecrated, his prints and his works ashes. We don't even have a body to bury. How do we honor him?" His voice breaks as Elrond, for the first time in all the time you have known him, admits defeat. "How do I honor him when I failed?"

You manage to reach far enough to grasp the wet rag between your fingers and turn to face him as you drag it over the stained skin on his face. Elrond's silent tears track down clean, softened skin, and you wipe those away with your thumbs as they come.

"What if we have a funeral?" You suggest. "I will play at it, but I think you need to orchestrate and speak. Galadriel and the King would be grateful for it as well. We all loved Celebrimbor. As did I. He was one of few who could appreciate my artistry as I could his. Let his grave mark the new beginning we have here. Let that be the way to honor him."

Elrond doesn't break the silence for several minutes. He simply allows himself to bask in being alive, in you being alive here with him in this little tent far away from the war and from Sauron. You could build a life here. A home.

That is what he wants to do.

He does not dare speak until you are finished and washing the rag used to clean his arms and face. "I would very much like to do that with your assistance, nin mel. You are the only one I know who could create such beautiful things out of such darkness and travesty."

You playfully roll your eyes and tap the end of his nose with your finger. "You humor me, Commander." You muse. Elrond lets you go long enough to watch as you move his armor to the corner of the room and motion to the tub of hot water the healers had prepared while you were cleaning him. "Now humor me more and get in the bath. You smell foul."

Elrond's laughter is a balm to the ache in your heart. You too will miss Celebrimbor dearly, but you cannot afford the luxury of grief when he is so deeply engrossed in his own.

"Humor me. I have a request, aside from the funeral."

"That sounds more like a demand." You tease. "Go on."

"Remain here with me when the rest of Lindon's elves return home. Build our home here. With me. Build Imladris. Help me honor Celebrimbor."

The shock of his statement sends the objects in your arms clattering to the floor. He wants to do what?

[bella-rose29]

Elrond Peredhel (Rings of Power) masterlist

Key:

❤️ - happy/fluff

💙 - sad/angst

💛 - platonic ship

💚 - gn!reader

💜 - author's favourite

Breathe, 4.9k

Elrond x gn!elf!reader the original title for this was 'is he dead or not??? who knows' but I think this one is good too Elrond has been fighting all day, and you have been left behind to guard the women and children. when he returns, he's injured, so naturally you fuss over him ❤️💙💚

Anything for you, Commander ~ miniseries (coming soon!)

Elrond x elf!reader (doing my best to make it gn!) When a company sets out for Eregion to warn Lord Celebrimbor of what danger awaits him, you are asked to join as a Tracker, a job you haven't done for a long time. ❤️💙💚

[victoria-styles]

I noticed on your ao3 you like Elrond from lotr. Got any smutty suggestions?

Please don’t be shy to ask me any questions about locating a fic!

I have 355 Harry Styles, 177 Vikings (2013 TV show), 14 Gotham (2014 TV show), 18 Avatar: The Last Airbender, 9 Harry Potter, and 5 Lord of the Rings (Elrond Peredhel) recs saved!

Of course! Elrond Peredhel makes my thighs clench. 😏

With You, My Heart is Full

Drawing Opaque Faith

Nighttime Confessions

Hands Up, Palms Out, I'm at Your Mercy Now

Sweet Dreams

[j-eryewrites]

Rings of power elrond bc I'm in love! Maybe elrond thought that she died but she actually was saved by the dwarves and lived with them since? But if you have own Ideas please do use them

REQUESTS OPEN!

MAIN MASTER LIST

I loved writing this. Elrond is one of my favourite characters from the Rings of Power! I hope you enjoy this angsty/fluff/comfort fic.

Word Count: 3,402

Warnings: Mentions of characters’ deaths, angst, Elrond and Durin's friendship, the amazing Disa, etc.

*Afrell means friend in dwarvish (At least that is what Google said)

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Fireworks flashed across the sky brightening the darkest corners of the great forest of Lindon. The shadows of the trees towering over all momentarily disappeared, illuminating Elrond’s view. Standing before the elven man was a carved wooden statue of a woman. There was no doubt about the Elvish talent for art. Despite the stiff and hardened wooden medium of the Lindon trees, the elvish artists were able to capture the breath of life. Every detail from the way the woman’s long hair fell over her shoulder cascading down her back to the way her eyes crinkled when in a smile. It was as if she, herself, was standing in front of him now, which made it even harder for Elrond to keep from crying. 

It had been ages since the last battle was fought in the war between good and evil, yet for an elf, it was a blink of an eye. One moment he remembered her standing by his side in the golden light of the sun. The shimmering leaves from the magnificent trees of Lindon fell down around her. Her hair danced in the wind as a breeze flew by. And in the next…she was gone. Middle earth seemed darker and more solemn without her radiant light by his side. They had all lost someone in the war. A war that only consumed until there would be nothing left. A war that had taken her. 

Elrond’s eyes glistened as he remembered his last memory of her. She stood amongst the other soldiers. All were dressed in the finest of armour the forges of the elves could produce. Her armour was designed with the crest of her family. A tribute to those whom she and others had lost before. Elrond approached her one last time. Her unit had been tasked to march out to battle. In an effort to help support those fighting on the front. He could recognize the fear and uncertainty in her eye as she said goodbye, for what was the final time. He hugged her, longer than he should have for appearance’s sake. Elrond remembers he felt embarrassed about it. An elf who prided himself on his intelligence and his ability to put his mind before his heart, yet here he was holding her as if she was the only thing he had left. Tears fell down freely now. How foolish he was to think like that. Now she is gone. A figure to be remembered by a carving in wood. A face among a sea of thousands who lost their lives. 

The crinkling of leaves caught Elrond’s attention as he quickly wiped his tears away, preparing the mask he always held nowadays.  

A gentle voice spoke. “I remember when the first of these were carved.” It was Galadriel. He could never have mistaken her voice for anyone else. 

His eyes, unable to hide their grief, peered at his friend. Her golden hair fell behind her as she made her way to him. Then she turned to look up at the figure before them, bowing her head in respect for the fallen. “The likeness of one fallen, preserved upon a living thing. I am sorry, my friend.” 

She brought her delicate hand to his face, feeling the remnants of his tears. “We all lost so much to the war…to an evil that I fear still endures.” 

“It is over. The evil is gone,” stated Elrond. He refused to believe otherwise. He refused to believe she died for no reason. That her life was taken in the name of an evil that still continues to breathe, while hers has been forever silenced. 

“Not from here,” she whispered. 

His eyes softened at the confession of his friend. “After all you have endured…It is only natural to feel conflicted.”

Galadriel scoffed, “Conflicted? I am grateful you have not known evil as I have. As she knew it.” Galadriel pointed towards the woman in the woods. 

Elrond’s jaw clenched. “I have seen my share.”

“Evil does not sleep, Elrond. It waits.” Galadriel explained. “In our moment of complacency, it blinds us.”

Elrond turned towards Galadriel. “Let us say that this enemy is out there somewhere, lying in wait. Do you truly believe seeking him out will satisfy you? That one more orc upon the point of your blade will bring you peace. If you are wrong…” Elrond warned. 

“I’m not wrong,” Galadriel seethed. Her eyes watering over as her darkest memories crept to the front. 

“If you are wrong,” Elrond trembled. “Will you lead more Elves to die in far-off lands? Like you led her into battle that day?” 

“She knew what she was getting herself into, Elrond.” Galadriel seethed. 

The pain Elrond so desperately tried to hide, escaped. “To convince yourself you have done enough, how many more statues would you add to this path? How many more will you take away?! No one in history has ever refused the call. Do so now, it may never come again. You will linger here, an outcast, poisoned in dark whispers and dreams.”

“Do you think my fate would be better?” Galadriel scoffed. “Where everything mocks the cries of battle in my ears? Where tears of joy mimic the sobs of those who lost…lost everything? You would leave all the horrors of Middle-earth alive in me? To thrive in me? Undying, unchanging, unbreaking into the land of winterless spring?”

Elrond took in a shaking breath and placed his hands on Galadriel’s shoulders. “Only in the Blessed Realm can that which is broken in you be healed. Go there. Go, and I promise you... If a whisper of a rumour of the threat you perceive proves true, I will not rest until it is put right. You have fought long enough, Galadriel. Put up your sword.”

She leaned into his touch as tears fell from her closed eyes. “What am I to be?”

“What you have always been. My friend.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Gil Galad had assigned Elrond to work under the mentorship of the great Celebrimbor, the master smith and last in the line of the House of Feanor. Celebrimbor confided in Elrond about his plans for the future of the elves, but they lacked one thing. A workforce mighty enough to construct it fast enough and to the standard to which all elves held themselves–perfection. 

Elrond knew of the expert craftsmanship that the noble race of the dwarves was known for. Their stubbornness and determination placed them high amongst the mighty races of middle earth.

“Have you considered seeking partners outside the confines of our own race?” He questioned Celebrimbor. 

“The dwarves. An alliance with them would be the diplomatic achievement of the age.” Elrond stated. “Their prince, Durin, is an old and dear friend. Almost like a brother to me.”

Celebrimbor raised his brow in interest. “I've heard the Dwarves have greatly expanded their halls of late. They... They sculpt the rock with the respect of one who cares for an aged parent. I've long wanted to see their work. I had no idea you admired them so. I admire all who can see into the mystery of things, who can divine from the plainness of what is, the beauty of what could be... Might your friend be able to grant me access to their workshops?

Elrond chuckled, “Oh if I know Durin, he'll do far more than that. He'll welcome us with open arms, rams' horns blaring, tables filled with salted pork, and enough malt beer to fill the Anduin.”

It was decided. They would embark to the great dwarven halls in search of help from the mighty race. The two of them arrived at the entrance. Confidently, Elrond knocked on the door. A hole made a scraping noise as it slid open revealing a dwarven guard. 

“What do you want?” The voice grumbled. It rang low and deep.

 “It is Elrond of Lindon, accompanied by Celebrimbor, Lord of Eregion. We seek an audience with Prince Durin.”

 “No.” Replied the dwarf. 

Elrond widens his eyes in astonishment. “My apologies. Inform Lord Durin that his friend, Elrond…”

The Dwarf interjected, “His judgment has already been rendered, Elf.”

Elrond’s jaw clenched as he thought of a way to see his old friend. A light grew in his eyes and then he exclaimed, “All right, then, my friend. I invoke the Rite of Sign-tarâg.”

Celebrimbor turned to Elrond and asked, “What is the Rite of…” but he was silenced by the low rumbling of the door opening. 

The Dwarves beckoned Elrond to enter. Their grunts and armour jingled.

“I'll rejoin you in Eregion. Are you certain you know what you're doing? Lord Celebrimbor, trust me. You are a master of your craft, my friend. Allow me a few days to work mine,” instructed Elrond as he disappeared into the dark depths of the mountain.

Elrond gasped in amazement as he was led–pushed through the great halls of Moria. It had changed so much in the span of a few years. He was taken to a room filled to the brim with dwarves. They were chanting in unison, drinks clinking and ale spilling on the floors. 

“Khazad!” A deep voice rang out. The crowd parted and Elrond took in the sight of his old friend Durin. Time had treated him well. 

“Dûm!” The other dwarves chimed in response. 

“My heart sings to see you, old…” Elrond smiled. 

“The Elf Elrond has invoked the Rite of Sigin-tarâg.” Durin scoffed. “The Dwarven test of endurance, fashioned by Aulë himself. Once we lift our hammers, we shall break the great stones until one of us can break no more.”

A cheer of shouts broke out from the crowd. 

Durin turned to Elrond a glare in his eye. “Should the Elf forfeit, he will be banished from all Dwarven lands. Forever!” The dwarves cheered. “Does the Elf understand? 

A pang of hurt flashed in Elrond’s eyes as he grasped the seriousness in his friend’s words. “The Elf does.” He muttered. 

“In the unlikely event, the Elf should win...We shall grant a single boon. But should he lose... Banished. 

“Yes. Understood.” Muttered Elrond. 

“Mm. Begin!” Exclaimed an elderly dwarf. 

A horn blew and cheers of Durin’s name filled every mouth in the crowd. The red-headed dwarf raised his axe high above his head. With a thud, he brought it down upon the large boulder. It shattered into a thousand pieces scattered across the room. 

Durin triumphantly looked towards Elrond. “Here we go, Elf.” 

Elrond nodded and raised his axe, bringing it down with a swift bang. The rock broke underneath his axe. Cheers and gasps erupted. The trial had begun. 

_______

Elrond’s muscles ached as he leaned against his axe. The cheers of the dwarves all around him pounded his head. He peered up at Durin who stood patiently waiting. His eyes narrowed and his face held an unreadable expression. 

Elrond stood and placed his axe on the ground. He had forfeited. 

“A dog may bark at the moon. But he cannot bring it down. Take your leave.” Durin sneered. 

“Perhaps His Lordship would be willing to escort me to the exit?” Elrond asked. 

“Gladly,” Durin grumbled. 

Durin had dragged Elrond out of the room and together they stepped on a lift to the exit. Elrond’s eyes scanned his surroundings taking in the beauty of the mountain. 

“Remarkable. I never dreamed to find your city so changed.”

“Now, 20 years will do that,” clarified Durin. 

“Has it been only 20? You must tell me your secret.”

“Our secrets are our own.” spat Durin. He crossed his thick arms over his torso.

Elrond’s eyes softened. “Durin, have I offended you?”

“To answer that, we'd need a longer lift.” Durin turned away from Elrond. 

“If you wish to discharge me without explanation, that is your choice.” Elrond calmly replied. 

“You bet your feathery shirts it is.”

“But,” Elrond placed his hand on Durin's shoulder, “before squandering the best opportunity any Dwarf prince has had in a generation, you might at least listen to the proposal I bring.”

He knocked the comforting hand away. “Ah, there it is. The true purpose of your visit. You want something.”

“I journeyed here to see my friend, whom I've greatly missed.”

“Missed?” scoffed Durin. “You missed my wedding. The birth of my children, two of them! Even if she's…” Elrond’s brow piqued interest. “Never mind,” brushed off Durin. “You cannot barge into my mountain and demand I welcome you with open arms. You cannot claim that which you discarded.”

“Discarded? Durin, I…” fretted Elrond. He leaned down towards Durin. 

“Twenty years might be the blink of an eye to an Elf. But I've lived an entire life in that time. A life you missed.” The lift came to an end and the entrance to the mountain was insightful. “So, what do you have to say to that... "Friend?"” blubbered Durin. 

“Congratulations,” Durin’s eyes widened at the words. “On your wife, your children. I hope you can come to forgive me. And I would like very much to apologize to your family as well. 

“Hmm,” grumbled Durin trying to hide his shock at Elrond’s statement. “One apology to Disa and you're off. No getting better acquainted. No reminiscing about the past. And absolutely no staying for dinner.”

“Understood.” smiled Elrond. 

_________

A beautiful sturdy woman gasped as Elrond and Durin entered his home. “Aulë's beard! No! This cannot be Elrond, can it?” She smiled. Her white teeth shimmered like the finest of gems the great mountain could prepare. 

 “I fear so, fair lady.” smiled Elrond. He bowed his head in greeting. 

“Durin didn't tell me you were coming,” she gasped. 

“Durin didn't know,” he mumbled as he rolled his eyes. 

“I've been remiss in not visiting sooner,” Elrond apologized. “An oversight, for which I am here to humbly ask forgiveness.”

“You're staying for dinner,” Disa commanded. 

Durin’s eyes widened, “He's leaving.”

“He's staying.” She glared at her husband. 

“He's leaving!”

“He's staying,” she said sternly. Her tense gaze lingered on Durin. 

The sweet sound of children laughing cut through the tension. 

“Hey! I told you two to stay out of my mind!” Durin reprimanded. 

 “And I thought Afrell told you wee monsters to stay in bed!” Laughed Disa. Oh, come on! Gerda! Gamli! Come on, hurry along.”

“Make yourself comfortable, please,” Disa told Elrond. 

“But not too comfortable,” grunted Durin as he made his way towards his children. Ushering them to bed.

“We’re expecting another guest, by the way, Durin. I invited Afrell.”

“Afrell?” wondered Elrond. 

Disa opened her mouth to explain, but Durin cut her off. “The children’s nanny of sorts.” Disa sent him a look and Durin only brushed it off. 

It wasn’t long before dinner was served and the three of them were enjoying a nice warm meal. Elrond placed his silverware on the table and turned to ask Disa a question. “How did you two first become acquainted?”

Disa smiled and glanced at her husband with loving eyes. “I was resonating in a freshly opened chamber, fairly confident we were onto a sizable silver deposit... 

"Resonating?" asked Elrond. “I've not heard of resonating.”

“It's when we sing to the stone. You see, a mountain is like a person. It's a long and ever-changing story made of countless small parts. Earth and ore, air and water.”

Durin began to slurp his drink loudly but was shushed when Disa shushed him with the edge of her elbow. 

“Sing to it properly,” she continued, “and each of those parts will reflect your song back to you, telling you its story, showing you what might be hidden, where to mine, where to tunnel, and... And where to leave the mountain untouched. 

“It is a beautiful tradition,” Elrond said softly. 

Durin rolls his eyes. “When’s Afrell joining us?” He asked. 

“She went to help Filgana with a few things. She will arrive when she is done.” She cleared her throat and turned back to Elrond. “Anyway, we're unpacking our tools, and my team suddenly grows quiet. Then, I see our prince. He's come to check on us. Far below his purview, mind you. At first, I thought it was merely curious. That is until he showed up at our next survey. And the one after that. And the one after that. Always did have a talent for lurking. Took weeks before he worked up the courage to court me properly.”

 “Two weeks at most.” Clarified Durin.

“It was five.” Stated Disa. Elrond chuckled. 

“You're lying,” he told his wife. “She's lying. She may play coy now, but she was a moon-eyed girl in love from the moment we met.” Disa shut him up with a loving kiss to his lips. 

“A very happy match, indeed.” Elrond smiled.  

“Should've been at the wedding,” grumbled Durin.

“Enough,” snapped Disa. 

Suddenly, the low hum of the door could be heard. “‘Bout time,” muttered Durin as he rose from his seat. Elrond raised his brow and turned towards the direction of the door. A slow heavy sound followed by the light step of a foot could be heard. “Let me…” muttered Durin. A grunting could be heard as a metallic sound hit the floor. Disa rose from her seat to greet, whom Elrond could assume was Afrell. He rose from his seat, his head nearly hitting the ceiling. 

Elrond froze as their guest came into view. His heart was now beating out of his chest and all form of formality was gone. 

“Sorry, I’m late Disa,” apologize a sweet voice. It had been ages since Elrond had heard a sound like that. Its sweet melody turned sour in his memory after that fateful day. But the light had returned, and his heart felt light. 

“Nonsense, you’re here now,” Disa exclaimed. 

The woman brought her gaze from the floor and halted in her steps. Durin came from behind her and then looked between his friend and Afrell. 

Elrond whispered your name as if he was saying a prayer. She was still as beautiful as the day he lost her. Her hair is now slightly longer. The flow of it highlights her figure. Her smile is as full of light and life as he last remembered it. Her eyes are deep and calm, yet her cheeks were flushed. His eyes fell over her, taking her in. He looked down towards her leg and noticed a metallic contraption around it. It glowed in the light like a star. The metal spiraled around her ankle and ended at her hip holding her leg in place. 

“Elrond?” you muttered in disbelief. “Is that you?”

He rushed towards her, almost tripping over his gown. He steadied himself on her forearms. Slowly, he brought a hand to brush through her hair. Then he cupped her cheek. It was warm. 

“You’re alive?” shuddered Elrond. His eyes are glassy and wide. 

She chuckled. Oh, how he had missed that sound. “They found me underneath a pile of orcs. I was still breathing, but unconscious. The dwarves nursed me back to health. Well…” she explained. She looked towards her leg entangled in the metal. “My leg was crushed. I wasn’t able to walk., except Durin here,” She nodded towards Durin, and he sheepishly looked away as Elrond glanced at him. “He made this brace for me and helped me walk again.”

“Why didn’t you come to find me?” pondered Elrond still in shock.

“It was only until a few years ago I was able to stand on my own.” She glanced down. “I had to repay them for saving my life, so I’ve been using my medicinal skills here and there. At least until my debt has been paid.”

“For the last time lass, you have no debt,” exclaimed Durin. 

Elrond’s eyes glanced over you again as if trying to mark your image in his memory forever. “You’re here.” 

She smiled and leaned into his hand. “I’m here, nin mel”

Elrond felt a tear escape and fall down his cheek. She smiled and gently wiped it away. He brought his forehead to rest on hers. She was here. She was alive. She was safe. 

Durin cleared his throat. “Kiss already, would you?! Dinner’s waiting.”

Disa hit him on the shoulder, and he yelped out. She took it upon herself to drag Durin out of the room, offering the two of you some privacy. You laughed and so did Elrond. Your eyes flickered down as the fire crackled in the background. 

Your laugh was contagious. Taking a finger, Elrond gently lifted your chin up. He gazed lovingly into your eyes, and you held your breath. His eyes flickered between yours his heavy breaths tickling your face. Slowly, he closed the distance and did what he wished he did that day you rode off out of his sight. His eyes closed as his soft lips met hers. He kissed you, forever sealing you with him in his memory.

You were alive. You were together. You were back in his arms. You were safe. 

___________________________________________________________

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