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earthlybeam · 3 months ago

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how would the elves react to this?

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Gil~galad Versions below. (You and Gil~Galad well secret have a crush but either of you acted till now.)

👑𝓖𝓲𝓵-𝓰𝓪𝓵𝓪𝓭

🜲 The great hall was alive with the warmth of firelight and the soft buzz of conversation. The winter evening had settled in, a cold breath of wind whispering through the stone walls, but inside, the atmosphere was warm and inviting. The scent of spiced wine and roasting meats filled the air as guests mingled, their laughter and chatter creating a gentle hum of activity. But amidst it all, there was one thing that kept your attention: Gil-galad. You had long since found a quiet corner of the hall where you and he had fallen into an easy rhythm, talking of everything and nothing at once. His sharp, silver-blue eyes were alight with interest as you spoke, his laugh deep and genuine whenever you made a clever remark. The two of you had long since forgotten the world around you, wrapped in the intimacy of your conversation. But the deeper you delved into it, the more you both lost track of time—of place.

🜲 You were oblivious to everything around you as your words flowed freely, some of them teasing, some more heartfelt, each phrase tumbling into the next. You spoke with animated gestures, occasionally stopping for a breath before diving right back in. Gil-galad was listening, but it was clear his attention wasn’t entirely on your words. He nodded every now and then, his lips curving in a small smile at your remarks, but his eyes were fixed on something else now—the soft glow of the mistletoe hanging just above the archway of the entryway. The mistletoe, so easily overlooked by most, seemed to beckon. And there it hung, a silent observer to the unfolding chemistry between you and Gil-galad. But neither of you had noticed it. Gil-galad’s mind, usually as sharp as the blade at his side, was clouded with thoughts of you. His focus was no longer on the conversation you were so animatedly carrying on about; instead, his mind wandered to you—how close you were, how warm your presence felt, how your words, even when trivial, seemed to matter to him in a way nothing else did. But there was more than that. The way your voice danced in the air, and the mischievous glint in your eyes, only seemed to deepen the longing he’d kept locked away.

🜲 His gaze flickered toward the mistletoe once more, and his heart skipped a beat. What if I kissed you? The thought flared in his chest, unbidden and bold. Would you pull away? Would I regret it? Gil-galad wasn’t someone to act recklessly. His position as High King demanded control, composure at all times. But as your words carried on, he found his breath catching, his heartbeat quickening with every subtle glance toward the mistletoe. You had no idea, of course, that the object above you both had a strange power over him now, stirring a quiet yearning he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in far too long. You, completely unaware of his internal turmoil, continued to ramble on, oblivious to how he was hanging on your every word. You were caught up in your own thoughts, trying to convey something particularly amusing you’d heard recently. The excitement in your voice only served to draw him in deeper.

🜲 “Should I?” His mind repeated. His hand, resting at his side, twitched slightly, as though to reach for yours, to draw you closer. But no, that would be too bold. Too soon. Your words were growing more animated as you continued, talking about the recent events in the court and making light of a few jokes that left him chuckling along. Yet, inside, he was spiraling, wondering whether this moment—this fleeting connection—was enough. He had wanted something more for so long, but had never found the right time, the right words. He could sense how close you were, but the distance between you both was still palpable, like a barrier neither of you had yet crossed.

🜲 His posture subtly shifted, moving just a fraction closer, trying to close that invisible gap between you, but you were still so engrossed in your story, still speaking to him with abandon, unaware of the growing tension between you both. His eyes flicked once again toward the mistletoe. This was it. “Just do it, Gil-galad” he told himself. His heart thudded in his chest, every part of him screaming for action. But still, he hesitated. He couldn’t risk it. “What if this was only in my head? What if she doesn’t feel the same?” But his patience was wearing thin. His resolve cracked with every passing moment, every time you laughed, every time your voice rose in excitement, only making him ache for more of you. He had to know, had to find out if this connection was as real to you as it was to him.

🜲 And then, before he could second-guess himself, his hand brushed lightly against yours. The contact was soft, barely noticeable, but it sent a jolt of electricity through him. It was an invitation, a touch that lingered just a bit too long to be casual. He didn’t give you the chance to pull away, stepping in just a fraction closer, his breath catching in his throat as he leaned in. Your speech faltered for a second, a brief pause in your words as you noticed the change in his demeanor. His gaze had shifted, and there was something in his eyes—a quiet, almost desperate longing—that caught you off guard. You opened your mouth to speak, to continue the conversation, but before you could, he closed the distance between you both.

🜲 Gil-galad’s lips met yours, soft and gentle at first, as if testing the waters. His heart pounded wildly in his chest, every fiber of his being trembling with the act he’d just initiated. His hand found its way to your cheek, cradling it gently as if afraid that if he moved too quickly, you might disappear. For a moment, there was only silence—no words, no laughter—just the warmth of his lips on yours, the world around you fading away. His touch was tender, a soft reassurance that this moment was real. His thumb brushed over your skin in a slow, comforting caress, and your heart fluttered as the kiss deepened just slightly, a slow and deliberate dance of affection.

🜲 It was everything and nothing all at once. His presence wrapped around you like the warmth of the fire that crackled nearby, and when he finally pulled back, his eyes locked onto yours, soft and vulnerable. His voice was a quiet murmur, a breath against your lips, almost as though he was afraid to let the words escape. “I’ve been waiting for that moment,” he confessed, a playful yet sincere edge to his tone. He couldn’t resist adding with a teasing smile, “You do talk too much, you know.”

🜲 Your heart fluttered at his words, and your brow furrowed slightly as you pulled back, a small laugh escaping your lips. “Wait… were you even listening to our conversation?” you asked, your voice soft but teasing, the surprise of the kiss still hanging in the air between you. His gaze shifted, a flicker of sheepishness in his eyes, before the smile tugged at his lips again. Gil-galad’s gaze softened, and there was a moment of vulnerability in him that you hadn’t seen before, not in the High King of the Noldor. His voice lowered, a mixture of humor and sincerity. “I was… until you distracted me,” he admitted, his words wrapping around you like a secret. “Distracted?” you teased, raising an eyebrow, the corner of your lips twitching. “By what? My words?”

🜲 His eyes glinted mischievously, and his tone dropped into something softer, more intimate. “No,” he said, his voice low and warm, “by your lips.” The heat that blossomed in your chest spread to your cheeks, a gentle smile tugging at your lips. “Ah,” you murmured, voice soft but playful. “So, you were too busy thinking about kissing me to listen?” Gil-galad gave a small, self-deprecating chuckle, his gaze tender as he held your eyes. “I’m afraid so,” he admitted, his voice full of sincerity, the vulnerability still there beneath the teasing edge.

🜲 You felt the warmth spread through you, a quiet understanding settling in. Your heart raced, but now there was no tension, no uncertainty. The vulnerability that had been hidden behind his composed demeanor now opened up, palpable in the air between you. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The world outside seemed to pause, and in that silence, there was an unspoken understanding, a quiet promise. With a playful glint in your eyes, you broke the stillness. “Well, that was lovely, but I wasn’t quite ready for it. You’ll have to do it again—I’m ready now.”

🜲 Gil-galad blinked in disbelief, a soft, surprised laugh escaping him as a delightful warmth spread across his chest. His eyes softened, and his lips parted in a gentle smile, the corners of his mouth curving upward as his cheeks flushed a deep crimson. “Again? Like… right now?” he stammered, his voice tinged with a hint of bashfulness yet undeniably intrigued. His usually composed demeanor seemed to falter, revealing a side of him not often seen—a man caught off guard, unsure, yet completely enchanted. You met his gaze with a teasing glint in your eye, the playful challenge clear in your words. “Absolutely,” you replied, voice light and teasing. “If you dare.” There was no mistaking the mischievous edge in your tone, and for a moment, you reveled in the way his expression shifted, the King of Lindon thrown off balance in a way that was both endearing and electrifying.

🜲 Gil-galad’s usual regal poise returned for a fleeting second, his resolve solidifying as he took a slow, steadying breath. The moment was different this time, more assured—though still tender, there was a newfound determination behind it. His expression softened, a shy but determined smile gracing his lips. He moved toward you with a quiet elegance, but this time, the space between you was smaller, the air between you filled with a growing sense of longing, anticipation, and something deeper that neither of you had dared to name until now. When his lips finally met yours, it was a contrast to the playful teasing that had preceded it. The kiss was gentle at first—soft, almost reverent—but it deepened swiftly as the pull between you became undeniable. There was no hesitation this time, no questioning. It was a kiss filled with a quiet urgency, as though time had somehow slowed, allowing every tender moment to stretch, to linger. His hand rose to cradle your cheek, the touch so delicate that it sent a wave of warmth through your skin, as if the mere brush of his thumb against your face could steady your very soul. He seemed to take solace in the simple gesture, his thumb moving with a subtle caress, tracing the curve of your cheek as though memorizing the feeling of your skin beneath his touch.

🜲 The world around you faded, quieting to nothing but the thrum of your heartbeat and the warmth shared between you. The kiss deepened, a slow and steady rhythm that mirrored the growing connection between you both. There was a softness to it, a carefulness, as if neither of you wanted to rush the moment. Yet, within that tenderness, there was also an undeniable strength—a mutual understanding that this kiss was more than just a fleeting expression. It was something eternal, a quiet declaration of emotions that had long been kept under the surface. When he finally pulled back, his eyes were filled with a mix of emotions—joy, surprise, and a hint of bashfulness—as though he couldn’t quite believe the magic of the moment. His gaze met yours, his silver-blue eyes shimmering with a newfound intensity. He breathed out slowly, a soft laugh escaping him, almost as if to release the tension he hadn’t known he’d been holding. “I think I could get used to this,” he murmured, his voice low and hushed, a gentle reverence in the words.

🜲 You smiled, the warmth in your chest expanding at the sound of his voice. “I think I could, too,” you replied, your heart swelling with the realization of the bond that was now undeniable between you. The connection between you felt fragile yet unbreakable, something forged in shared vulnerability, soft laughter, and the depth of a kiss that had sealed something neither of you had expected to find. There was no doubt now—this was only the beginning. With a mischievous glint in your eye, you leaned in once more, your lips brushing against his cheek in a fleeting, tender kiss. It was soft, light—a contrast to the depth of the kiss you had just shared, but the touch lingered, leaving behind a trace of warmth. You pulled away slowly, your voice soft but filled with teasing determination. “But I expect you to keep trying,” you murmured, the playful challenge lingering in the air between you.

🜲 Gil-galad’s laugh rang out, bright and warm, the sound a rare and cherished gift. It was full of life, the echo of it making your heart flutter with the joy of shared affection. His eyes sparkled with playful determination, and his lips parted in a smile that held both mischief and sincerity. “Then I shall not disappoint,” he promised, his voice steady yet filled with newfound playfulness. He leaned in once more, his resolve firm, as though the kiss from before had opened a door between you both that neither of you were quite ready to close. His lips brushed against yours once more, eager to explore the newfound depth of your connection, each kiss a quiet reaffirmation of the emotions that had bloomed between you, unspoken yet profound.

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