#ecthelion x reader

[dark-in-mine-imagination]

Imagine being Ecthelion’s daughter and faling for Maeglin.

[doodle-pops]

Alright big BIG question!

Which elves are more likely to fall for a mortal lover and why in your opinion?

I really like your blog by the way! 😃

A/N: I love you for liking my blog 😘. Could have sworn I had an ask like this done before...

Falls for you regardless of your mortality because love is love and all they wish to do is be in your presence…

— Maglor, Celebrimbor, Fingon, Argon, AEGNOR (we all knew this), Galdor, Glorfindel, Rog, Beleg, Elladan, Elrohir, Gil-Galad

Falls but (struggles a bit) has to come to terms with your mortality, and the idea of suffering an endless heartbreaking form of pain scares them, knowing one day you will leave and never reunite…

— Caranthir, Finrod, Ecthelion, Elrond (and I solely believe that he would be frightened because of all the people he loved and easily lost, he doesn’t want to bear the pain of your death)

[lamemaster]

Elves Reaction to a Mythical S/O

Request: I saw the “ Feel free to request “ in the bio and I wanted to ask if you could write something like a Mermaid!Reader Or Fairy!Reader headcanons with Maedhros Celegorm Caranthir Glorfindel and Ecthelion? I would appreciate it <3

Characters: Maedhros, Celegorm, Caranthir, Glorfindel, Ecthellion

AN: Took some creative liberty with some of these but I hope you still like them. Also, the way I got carried away with Celegorm is not real. I hope you like it and thanks for requesting this! (Divider by @cafekitsune)

Celegorm- Celegorm lay wounded, his lifeblood seeping into the quiet forests of Beleriand. Beside him, Dior's lifeless form grew cold, devoid of the light that once animated it. As he awaited his inevitable end, Celegorm allowed himself a moment to embrace the surroundings. The scent of damp earth, the gentle rustle of leaves in the air, and the murmurs of the horrified trees—all of it reached his senses, and even in his pain, he found solace in these simple pleasures. He dared not contemplate his fate, for whatever awaited him was yet unknown. Suddenly, a subtle thrum of activity surrounded him, a buzz that reverberated through the forest. Even the trees whispered a name he couldn't grasp. And then he smelled it—the sweet, cloying scent of decay. It was reminiscent of rotting grapes, withering to produce wine, or overripe fruits dissolving into the soil. "Oh, look what they left us this time—one still alive," your voice chimed like a symphony of bells in Celegorm's pain-addled mind. From his blurred vision, Celegorm observed as flowers bloomed beneath your every step. And then, you stopped right in front of him. "Help," he managed to croak, and you laughed. Mirroring your laughter, Celegorm felt a surge of mirth course through him, even as his blood continued to flow excessively. "Ah, my pet," you crouched down, and Celegorm instinctively leaned into your touch as your fingers grazed his cheek. "Should I truly save you?" You tilted your head innocently, your silver-hued skin shimmering in the dappled sunlight. A crown adorned with sapphires rested upon your head, complementing the brilliance of your sparkling eyes. "Think carefully," you whispered with a playful smile on your lips, and Celegorm became captivated by their allure. "A bargain with the fae is no trivial matter." As a sharp pain invaded his mind and body, Celegorm's gaze lost focus. Your talons, sharp and unyielding, grasped his wound, prying it open further. Despite the agony coursing through him, Celegorm found himself nodding, his voice barely a plea, "Please…". “Alright, then elf,” in seconds the wound that you had pried open closes and Celegorm stares in disbelief as his skin stitches itself back together under your touch. By the time you are done, there rests a brand where Dior’s sword had once impaled him. Your brand on him.

Ecthellion- Long ago, in the Ages of the Trees, Ecthelion had felt the weight of the ocean, a burden he carries with him even now. However, it is not the brine of the ocean that floods his lungs, but the water of his own fountain, leaving him gasping for breath. The misery he experiences now seems more profound than the incident of his childhood. Back then, he held onto hope that someone would come to his rescue, and indeed, you had come. Through the darkness, you swam with your shimmering green tail, and in your arms, you cradled a young Ecthelion. That single act had been enough to ignite his fascination with Alqualondë, drawing him to its shores in search of glimpses of you, the mermaid familiar with the Teleri's realm. Admiration had blossomed into love as Ecthelion fell for his savior. But now… hope has faded. Ecthelion finds it harder to believe in the possibility of a rescue as he drowns in the shallow waters, mere feet from the depths of the ocean. The day he departed the bloodied shores, he shattered any chance of your care. He knows you would not spare a thought for one who sided with the kinslayers. “I wish I had left you…I wish I hadn’t saved you,” the echoes of your final words haunt his ears, replaying over and over as he envisions your tear-stricken figure on the ravaged shores. Even as he draws in the water, he feels his own tears mingling with it, his heart heavy with regret.

Caranthir- Caranthir sighed in frustration as the thread snapped once again, the fifth time within the last two minutes. "Will you please stop already?" he exclaimed, giving up on the futile game of searching for the elusive cause of his thread's constant breaking. Finally, he looked up towards the branch where you sat, a mischievous grin playing on your lips. "Oh, me?" you replied, feigning an expression of shock, vigorously shaking your head. "How could I have possibly done anything from wayyyy up here?" Your playful act may have fooled others, but Caranthir, after years of knowing you, remained unconvinced. Caranthir's frustration simmered as he contemplated your mischievous presence on the branch above. His impulse to chuck a rock at you was quickly suppressed, knowing it wouldn't deter your playful nature. But you weren't oblivious to his internal struggle. With a dramatic flourish, you folded your wings, mocking innocence evident in your eyes. "Oh, look at you," you taunted, your voice carrying a blend of seriousness and amusement. "What did a poor, dainty little fairy do to you? I hope all your needles break and all your threads end up in a tangle." Despite the biting nature of your words, a glimmer of mirth danced in your gaze. Tired of your antics, Caranthir abandoned his position and began to make his way back. But before he could take more than a couple of steps, he felt a familiar weight land upon his back. Your arms encircled him, and your head rested gently on his shoulder. His hands instinctively moved to support your legs, preventing any chance of you slipping. "Forgive me," you whispered softly, your fingers idly playing with his braids. Caranthir didn't utter a single word in response, but the way he his hands securely supported your legs on each side spoke volumes.

Maedhros- Maedhros found himself engulfed in a sea of grief, his heart heavy as he watched his father burn the ships that were meant to aid their kin. The weight of witnessing his father's gradual descent into darkness, coupled with the burden of blood and oath, had taken its toll on Maedhros. The shores were ablaze with the burning remnants of the ships, and amidst the chaos, he discovered you. Your countenance was hidden beneath the veil of long, flowing hair, but one striking feature remained exposed—a majestic teal tail that identified you as a creature of the sea. Lying on the shore, your body bore the scars of burns, rendering you unconscious and vulnerable. Drawn by an invisible force, Maedhros knelt beside you, gently parting the strands of hair that obscured your face. In that moment, he couldn't discern whether it was love or lust that gripped his heart, but he found himself rooted to the spot, unable to tear his gaze away from you. As he pulled you from the water, your tail transformed into naked legs, signifying a profound change and a bridge between worlds. Draping his cloak over your form, Maedhros carried you to the sanctuary of his tent. With tender and feather-soft touches, he applied a healing paste to your wounds, his eyes fixated on your closed eyes. In that intimate exchange, he felt an indescribable connection. You belonged to him, bound together in mind, heart, and soul, intertwining with his own unguarded being. When the following morning arrived, you awakened, your memories of the past washed away like wet ink fading on a page. A new dawn emerged, and the eldest Feanorian rejoiced. For in your rebirth, he saw an opportunity to offer himself to you completely. The sea had dared to separate him from his home, his mother, his people and so he took away something precious from it. Something he keeps a secret even as he hangs from the cliff of Thangodrim. You are to him as the Silmarils were to Feanor. Even in death, Maedhros' spirit would follow you as you traversed the world, your past forgotten in the depths of ages long gone. You were his eternal companion, a tether to a forgotten era, forever intertwined in the tapestry of destiny.

Glorfindel- "Do you truly think Asfaloth's bells are better than mine?" you ask, your figure delicately balanced on the balcony as you fix a piercing glare upon Glorfindel. He finds himself in a predicament he never anticipated, caught off guard by your sudden confrontation. "It's not a matter of comparison, really," the Balrog slayer tries to deflect, hoping to avoid further conflict. However, you refuse to let him off the hook so easily. "Oh, really? Because if I recall correctly, your past romantic odes were filled with praise for the sweet chimes of my own bells, not those on Asfaloth," you remark, plucking at the tinkling bells adorning your anklet to emphasize your point. "These bells carry the essence of my magic, and yet, you hesitated. You faltered at Elohir's foolish question." Glorfindel winces, inwardly cursing Elrond's son for inadvertently causing this current predicament. Stepping closer to you, he channels his sweetest voice, accompanied by a subtle loosening of the top buttons of his shirt. "Melda," Glorfindel begins, his voice tender and sincere, "there is truly no comparison. Even Asfaloth's bells were born out of the days when I pined for you." He gazes into your eyes, a soft smile playing on his lips, as you instinctively reach out and fiddle with the buttons of his shirt." Is that true?" you inquire, a hint of vulnerability lacing your voice. Glorfindel nods, relief washing over him. Crisis Averted for now. He would make sure to apologize to Asfaloth tomorrow.

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Hello! I love your work and I’m so glad you’re taking requests!!! Thank you so much for doing this! I’d like to use the “Jewels” prompt: If you don’t mind, I had an idea for an EcthelionxFem!Reader smut (she is his wife) featuring pre-negotiated CNC kink, humiliation, light dom/sub dynamics in the bedroom (dom!ecthelion), and possessive sex. He loves her very much but she has some unique desires which have revealed themselves over the course of the relationship. He also seems like the kind of Noldo who would want to see their partner naked wearing nothing but their jewelry, especially with his canonical love for diamonds.

Do not want: sadomasochism, master/slave dynamics, orgasm denial, angst, blood play, bruising/injury.

Do want: rope bondage, sexual training

-⛲️ Anon

Hello ⛲️ Anon! I hope you like this!

When Affections Are Spurned

Pairing: Dom! Ecthelion/Fem. Reader (Second Person POV)

Prompt: Jewels

Themes: Smut | Aftercare

Warnings: Consensual NC | Rope Bondage | Sexual Training | Humiliation (Mild)| Light Dom/Sub Dynamics | Possessive Sex | PIV sex

Wordcount: 2.5k words

Summary: Ecthelion, spurned after giving a wondrous gift, takes what he wishes from his lady and spouse.

Minors DNI | 18+

Prompts for requests can be found here.

Ecthelion ran his finger over a row of immaculate, clear gems. They glittered like fiery little stars in the candlelight. “You accept my gifts with a willing heart,” he began gravely, “and you spurn my desire for your affection when I seek them. If that was not enough, you just gave me a merry chase around our private chambers when I wished to talk to you on the matter.” He drifted to the seat that was not far from the foot of the bed and sat down, one leg crossed over the other. The chair had been a gift from Galdor of the Tree—high-backed, lined with velvet cushions, and ornately carved, a gift befitting the high rank of the recipient it was given to. And its maker knew nothing of the uses it saw. “Such conduct will not do, Y/n,” he continued, steepling his fingers beneath his chin. “What do you have to say in your defense?” 

You squirmed upon the edge of the bed, unable to move. Ecthelion did not just seize you after he caught up with you—he bound your arms and feet with lengths of silken rope he took out from a special cupboard by the window. The one around your ankles was secured in a simple fashion, but the one that went down the length of your arms to keep your hands behind your back was fastened into elaborate knots, though not painfully so. They had been tied with a great deal of care.

“Well?” Ecthelion said more firmly, his face a study of calm.

“I offer no excuse for my defense, husband,” you blurted, trembling, but not from the cold. After he had come home, Ecthelion had given you the most splendid array of diamonds you had ever seen. They had been polished to smooth disks, and they had been fastened to strands of white gold no thicker than the shaft of a slender quill. He had undressed you and draped his offering around your throat and shoulders, and he had taken a moment to admire how it fell past your back and knees in a delicate web, leaving the rest of your naked form exposed to the chill in the air and the chill from both metal and stone. After that he sought the kiss that was denied to him. “For I see no cause to offer one. I was not in the mood to reciprocate, so I chose not to.”

“I see,” Ecthelion returned. He sighed and leaned into his chair, pinning you to where you were with his piercing gaze. It was that of a predator, and not an elven lord’s. The sight made your blood thrum in a way you could not describe. “Well, I must tell you, Y/n, that moods should not matter when one’s companion is desirous of one’s affections.” He dusted himself off and stood up. “And now, I believe, I will claim what was denied to me before.”

“And I say no,” you responded defiantly. “You will have no affection from me. Certainly not on this night.”

Ecthelion tilted his head to the side and studied you, more amused than wroth. “You can defy me all you wish, Y/n,” he said, “but I will have what I seek in the end.” He stopped two paces from the bed and went about undressing himself, his nimble fingers making quick work of undoing the clasps of his tunic. “You are my bride, after all,” he added, unfastening them one by one, “and you must be ever-comfortable to my will.” Silk rustled and parted, leaving him bare from belly to throat, before it was tugged off his shoulders and down his arms and thrown onto the floor. “Such is the way of marriage. Surely you must know this.”

“Such is not the way of marriage; I am certain of it.”

“Oh, but it is. No matter. I will take what I hunger from you, whether you will it or not.”

“And what if I decide to try and fight you off?” You declared, watching Ecthelion crouch down on his knees. “There will be no satisfaction to be had then.”

Ecthelion unlaced his boots, his thoughts already fixed on the heady diversions that were to come. “There will be a great deal of satisfaction,” he said, “for me as well as for you, I think.” He straightened and stepped out of them, and his breeches and smallclothes also. Soon, he stood before you, his naked body as flawless as it had been since before he departed Valinor. Seeing him like that, without raiment and unashamed of himself, almost made you want to forget yourself. “Now, stay still. And do not try to defy me.”

He came right up to you and knelt again. This time it was to undo the bindings at your feet. Ecthelion was surprisingly gentle, and his touch was exhilarating. It sent jolts of pleasure shooting through your limbs and up your back, and made you gasp despite yourself. Ecthelion looked up. His face lit up with a triumphant smile.

“Despite all your protests,” he uttered, though not unkindly, “you still welcome my caress. Are you certain you have no need for me?”

“I have no need for you,” you insisted, your cheeks aflame, “and I do not welcome your caress. What you heard was a sign of momentary weakness, nothing more.”

“A momentary weakness, you say,” Ecthelion replied, his eyes burning like stars in the light of the hearth fire. “We shall see about that.”

He got to his feet and cupped your cheek. His palm was warm as it glided down your throat, over your garb of jewels, and back up again. You tried to pull away, but Ecthelion gripped your chin when you did so, hindering your movement and compelling you to look at him. He tutted in disappointment.

“Do not fight me,” he commanded, loosening his hold and allowing his thumb to wander. It glided over your lower lip over, and over, and over again. “Open that pretty little mouth of yours for me.”

“I will not.”

“Yes, you will. Go on. Do not make me repeat myself a second time.”

“I will not. You cannot compel me to obey you.”

“Very well, then.” Ecthelion forced his thumb—though not in an ungentle fashion—past your parted lips the moment you opened your mouth to protest, silencing your words before they could even be heard. He pressed it down against your teeth, keeping your mouth still open, and said, “Close your mouth and take this as far in as you can.”

You obeyed, having no other recourse but to do so. Ecthelion groaned when you heeded him and took him as far in as was possible. Flashes of heat crept up your throat repeatedly when he began to thrust the way he would whenever you pleasured another particular part of him. Ecthelion looked on approvingly, his bright eyes now clouded with unbridled lust.

“Look at you,” he husked. “Yielding to me so easily. So pitiful. But I am not one to offer complaints… not when you please me like this.”

A heavy flush coursed just beneath your skin. Hearing such words inflamed you, though you were not going to say a word about it to him. You could not do so in any event. Not with his finger probing your mouth. Ecthelion did not mind your silence. He preferred listening to the sharp little breaths you took while serving his needs instead.

“Very good,” he whispered, when you instinctively bobbed your head up and down in time with his movement.   

His praise made goosebumps rise all over your flesh. Still, you did your utmost to quell further signs of your arousal. You did not want him to see it. Ecthelion finally withdrew his thumb with a soft, wet plop, having had his fill of the act.

“The night is far from over,” he said, “and we have only just begun. I will help you further up the bed. Then we will couple, you and I. It is only fair, given how you behaved not too long ago.”

“I will not lie with you,” you snapped. “You will have to find some other way to give yourself relief.”

“Defying me again?” Ecthelion said, his hands on his hips. “Did you not hear me the first time? I will take what I hunger from you, whether you will it or not. And since you persist in refusing me, I will take what I wish while you remain unwilling.”

“And as I said,” you spat, “I will try and fight you off. I will not let you have your way with me while I am in this state. Do we understand each other on this?”

“We do not need to understand each other, dearest wife, for you are in no position to defend yourself,” Ecthelion said smugly. “And you are in no position to refuse me. Here. Let me show you.”

Suddenly, he grabbed you by the arms, pulled you up to him, and kissed you. You pursed your lips together, but it was to no avail. His kisses were hungry and demanding, and his tongue forced its way into your mouth to flick against yours. Then, there was his embrace: it kept you to him in a vise-like hold. Ecthelion held you tight as he savored the subtle hints of the wine and honey and berries you had during your last meal. He stopped just long enough to speak.

“You taste sweet,” he breathed, “just as you always do. I wonder if you are now ready for me to take you.”

“I am anywhere but ready,” you lied, shivering when he dipped his head and ran the flat of his tongue up your neck. Fresh arousal gathered between your thighs, making it nearly impossible for you to ignore the needs of your baser urges surging through your veins. Ecthelion did not give you an answer. He sank to the ground, forgetting all notions of the bed, and took you down with him.

“Your words do not concern me,” he said, forcing you down on your back and moving on top of you. His body was almost as hard as the marble floor, and the weight of it made you squirm. “All that truly concerns me is what I will find between your legs.” He reached down to lift the edges of the adornment he had draped you in up to your waist, parted your legs with his, and settled comfortably between them after bracing his arm by the sides of your shoulder. “You can writhe all you want, wife. I will have my way in the end.”

“You will not,” you countered, twisting and struggling in a vain attempt to break free. Ecthelion laughed. It was a chilling sound.

“I will,” he declared, sliding his free hand under your arse and raising it. Then, without a word of warning, he positioned himself and pushed in with one powerful thrust.

Ecthelion was big—uncomfortably yet wonderfully big. He made you cry out—in shock, pain, and even lust—when he filled you completely and groaned out his own pleasure as he sheathed himself within the lush heat of your body. And he laughed once more, this time when he found how ready you truly were, and how your words were nothing but a handful of lies that were told to dissuade him.

“Look at how wet and needy you already are,” he murmured, keeping himself still. “That is a good thing, for I fully intend to use you until I have been satisfied.”

“I give you my word, such will not be the case.”

“I beg to differ, wife.”

Ecthelion moved, pulling his hips back and pushing back in. He showed no concern for your own comfort, and he paid no heed when you thrashed against him. He simply took and he took and he took, his breath hot against your skin as he rutted almost like a wild beast between your thighs. 

“Will you refuse my need for your affections hereafter?” He asked, thrusting deep and striking a place that made you see stars behind your eyes when he did so.

“I—” you began, and faltered. Ecthelion struck that place again, making you moan. That and the sensations brought about by polished stone and metal rubbing against you each time you moved crushed what will you had left to defy him, and made you crave more of what he was unleashing deep within your belly. “I will not refuse you hereafter, husband. I will grant whatever you desire from me with an eager heart.”

“Good,” he cooed. “And do you want me to ravage you while you lie garbed in only my gift for you?”

“Yes, husband. I… I will no longer fight you.”

“I knew you would be eager for me to ruin you. Now stay still and cease your thrashing. It will be over soon.”

It did end soon, with your vision slowly fading to black and a powerful orgasm ripping through you. You could do nothing but arch your back as wave after wave of ecstasy rose and crashed, leaving you drowning in the sheer intensity of it all. Ecthelion did not last much longer either. He grunted out your name as he emptied himself of his spend, and then he went still.

A hush settled over the chamber. Nothing could be heard for a brief while save for the crackling of wood as it burned. Ecthelion stirred. He rose to his knees and drew you up with him.

“Shhh,” he soothed, when you jolted against him. “It is me, my sweet. Your husband. Stay still, and let me untie this rope.”

He kept you steady as his fingers worked on the rope binding your arms. Its knots slackened before they came undone completely, and the rope itself slipped to the ground. There was a new rush of blood, and a dull, throbbing pain, but it went soon enough when Ecthelion rubbed down aching muscles all while showering you with praise. Every part of you felt like it was melting under his tender ministrations, and your body filled with a growing sense of ease.

“Did I go too far?” He questioned, anxious. “Did those jewels cut into your flesh?”

“You did not,” you said, sighing softly when he scooped you into his arms and arose. “And the jewels did not cut. They felt rather pleasant, pressing against my skin when you took me.”

“I confess, it felt strange hearing the acts you desired,” he admitted. “To take absolute power over you into my hands and claim you against your will? It was unnerving to even think of at first. But I am glad that you came to me, and I am honored that you trust me so implicitly with your secrets and your fantasies.” He drifted to the side of the bed and laid you down on soft pelts. “Is there anything you require? Should I fetch some food and drink for you?”

“Some water would be welcome,” you said weakly, nestling among the pillows. “And a bath, perhaps.”

“I shall draw it for you.”

“Thank you. And thank you for this gift. Never have I received anything so beautiful.”

“Then I shall see to it that you receive more,” Ecthelion said, beaming, “for you look glorious in such things, with no other garment to hinder your beauty. Rest for now. I will see to the rest.”

[lovefairymina]

Oh my god Ecthelion you’re so kind to help me out!!! I didn’t expect that. I was thinking like, “wait a second, this guy is solving my problems now? Gold star!” Bend down so I can give you a kiss on the cheek, my love

Confusion set upon his brow, and soon his entire face followed, with an exhale, he gingerly bowed to grant you his face. “I must say, I am unsure of what I have done to warrant this thanks. Nonetheless, I am thrilled to learn that my assistance has been of great usage.”

[theelvenhaven]

Jealous Ecthelion

Request: May I request a Jealous!Ecthelion? Maybe Reader has been talking about someone she kinda admires and he gets the green eyes 👀💚 of envy. He thought he was your No. 1 :(((

A/N: I wasn't quite sure if this was supposed to be a fic or a set of headcanons but I made it into headcanons.

* * *

⫸ Ecthelion likes to think of himself as someone who isn't capable of getting jealous, and is often times proud of that fact because he trusts you so deeply.

⫸ So when it comes to you speaking about people you admire, Ecthelion usually takes things in stride and doesn't jump to conclusions.

⫸ He enjoys listening to you rave about your favorite whomever- friend, author, artist, etc. that you have had the chance to meet and spend time with.

⫸ If anything he will usually contribute to the conversation, keeping it going until you have spoken about it til your heart is positively content with all that you wanted to say.

⫸ So when you come to Ecthelion one day talking about how you really like another Lord in the Houses of Gondolin, Ecthelion feels a little pang of jealousy strike him right in the chest.

⫸ At first he just ignores it and tries to just focus on listening to you talk about it, because clearly this conversation and admiration you have for this Lord are harmless... right?

⫸ But the more he listens to you speak, the more jealous he becomes.

⫸ Ecthelion knows it is entirely irrational that he is feeling this way about the Lord you are speaking of, I mean you two have a romantic relationship why would he need to worry? Right?

⫸ But when he realizes that you aren't going to stop talking about the Lord you have suddenly come to admire it only serves to make him positively green with envy.

⫸ Ecthelion grows surprisingly short with you about who you are talking about and doesn't take the time to indulge you in questions to keep the conversation going.

⫸ It doesn't take long for you to catch onto the fact that something is wrong seeing as he isn't indulging you like he usually would when you come to him about someone you admire.

⫸ When you ask him what the matter is and if you've done something wrong, Ecthelion plays it off pretty heavily, trying not to clue you into the fact that he's jealous.

⫸ But when you keep pressing he becomes short with you again, not wishing to confess to you that he's jealous of you speaking about another Lord.

⫸ It is only then are you able to put two and two together and realize that he's jealous of whom you are speaking about.

⫸ When you confront him, Ecthelion doesn't confirm nor deny that he's jealous, instead for a long moment he sits in quiet mulling over the fact that, yes he is indeed jealous.

⫸ It is only after a long moment of silence that he tells you that he's jealous hearing you talk about that Lord with such praise and admiration.

⫸ It comes as a shock seeing as he doesn't usually get jealous of anyone that you speak about otherwise.

⫸ When you offer him reassurance that he's the only for you and the only one who has your heart it certainly offers to act as a soothing balm.

⫸ Ecthelion is certainly glad to hear from you that you admire him too and that you love him.

⫸ With a few kisses to spare and holding his hand, it certainly simmers down the jealousy and Ecthelion apologizes to you for behaving the way he did and explains that it was unbecoming of him.

⫸ You simply take it in stride and accept his apology and hope to offer him reassurance again if he ever needs it.

* * *

Tags: @saviorsong @lilmelily @dicksoutformtl @fandomhoe101 @celebrimbor-telperinquar @red-riding @miriel-estelwen @ta-ka-shi-ma @nerdysimpy @thegirlwithoutaname87 @anunexpectedsideblog @spidergirla5 @eunoiaastralwings @eternalabysss @noldorinpainter

[autumnshighlady]

DROP YOUR SILMARILLION CHARACTER X READER REQUESTS! I will mainly write for:

feanor

fingolfin

maedhros (!!!!)

maglor

celegorm

glorfindel

ecthelion

finrod

elrond

melkor (!!!!!)

sauron (!!!!!)

i will possibly write for other characters if requested but these are the main ones i’ll do :)

if i wrote reader insert fics with characters from the Silmarillion would anyone read them?

[n0tamused]

"Glorfindel the Reckless"

A/N: Requested by @stormchaser819 ! I hope you enjoy <3 I love Glorfindel so much, I hope I did him justice. Please let me know what you think! If anyone wants to be on my elf tag-list let me know, and mention which character you'd like to be tagged for if you want to be tagged for anyone in particular

Contents: Glorfindel x Elf!Reader, GN reader, fluff. Elvish translations at the bottom

Words: 1448 I Ko-Fi

Sunsets in Gondolin have always been a sight worthy of gazing upon. They never lost their beauty nor their charm and served well in comforting the hearts of many after all the dark news that reached them, be it by word or by letter. It almost caught you unawares now as the same sunset painted the marbled floor in glittering spots of gold and orange around you. 'Has it been so long already?'

Glorfindel sat quietly for once, observing you through tender eyes as you wrapped his injured arm in new dressings, the last of his wounds. Although he had no lack of love in Gondolin, nor the lack of people worried for him, his heart squeezed at the sight of your face when it wrinkled with worry, the tight frown on your lips and the way your teeth marked your lips. His intentions were to shield you, comfort you, but he knew he wouldn’t be doing any of it by sending you away or offering you empty words in hopes to sweep the topic of wounds away. 

“You’re healing quickly..” your words snapped him out of his internal musings, and he blinked once, twice as if your face was only now coming into his vision, cleared away of fog and distance. His lips pull upward at the corners slightly, searching your eyes for something.

“And that is much relief, but also to be expected when I have you tending to all that wishes to ail me” His words were a warm timbre, as gentle as the hearth fire in dusky winter nights. “I have much to thank you for,” he added as he watched you tuck away the excess wrapping, securing it tightly before patting the palm of your hand around the side of his forearm, the motion gentle. 

“The healers have done their due as well, I am not a great healer, but I know how to dress a wound” you told him as you looked up at him after finishing your task, exhaling softly through your nose. Elven blood was enduring, persevering, yet not even that was able to make you feel any less tired, or look the part. For too long did Glorfindel linger outside of your eyes and out of your reach, fighting battles and doing deeds worthy of the praise he got, and more. For too long he left you without a word. All of which you understood, yet it did little to comfort you of his safety. Had you any skill with a sword as he did, perhaps you would have taken a place by his side in the battles. But your weapon was a quill, rather than a blade.

“The healers have gotten their due praise and my gratitude, but you ought not to discredit yourself simply because you do not bear the title of theirs” Glorfindel said, his tone laced with subtle interwoven notes of concern. His head absentmindedly titled to one side, hoping to catch your suddenly fallen gaze. 

Your eyes flickered to his own for a heartbeat before you busied yourself with sorting away the excess wound dressing, ointments and herbs and tools and all else you brought in your healer’s bag. For a healing wound of his, this was much unnecessary. “I am not discrediting myself” you replied, your voice dropping lower despite your efforts to keep sturdy. Secrets were a distant thing between you and Glorfindel, almost as if there was an external force stripping you both bare, feeling so natural yet, at times like these, embarrassing. 

“I only worry you’ll allow the reputation everyone pins on you to get the better of your wits one day”  It was a harmless bite, a proof of your worry you knew not how to express in any other way.

Glorfindel huffed out a laugh, breathing in a good mouthful as his lips quirked upwards as if greatly amused by your words. He sighed as he shook his head slowly, his gaze leaving you for a moment as he took in the sight of the great bedchamber around him. The gold lances of the sun shone through still, slowly transitioning from gold to pale purples and pinks. “Surely, you do not worry yourself to exhaustion because of this?” he looked back to you, “Must I remind you that I am not as reckless as you may think?” he offers gently.

Your eyes met his gaze, noticing the hint of mischief but also.. worry. He may not show it, but you could see it, feel it when his fingers brushed your hand in a silent quest of comfort for both of your hearts. 

“No.. I.. I am fully aware of your skill, Glorfindel” you made yourself chuckle, lips pulling upward in a smile to ease yourself into the sentence. “I just.. hate to see you hurt, surely you understand that I am not exactly myself when I see you like this?” you take his good hand in yours and give a squeeze which he gladly returned. “It pains me to see you off wherever you go to battle, any battle, and to be sure sometimes my heart makes a beast out of a fly, but I.. I just worry for you, melda”

“I know… as do I for you..” he smiles at you again, and his hand slips the clasp of yours to find its way up. His fingers touched the line of your jaw tenderly at first, feather light, before his palm slipped onto your cheek to hold it. Seeing you lean into it made Glorfindel sit up and draw closer to you. His lips found yours in a lingering kiss. He was warm, warm as always, warm as fire and he held yours like nothing else mattered in the world but this very moment. 

After he had pulled back he made slow, sweet motions that brushed the tip of his nose against yours and then pressed your foreheads together.  “Elin nin.. you can have my word that I would never cast aside all the wisdom I have just so another song may be sung about me, not when I know you’d eat yourself from within if I were to do something so stupid” His tone had dropped to a whisper, shared strictly within this small bubble the two of you created. 

“Recklessness does not suit me, as you always love to remind me, and I do not care to try it out again any time soon” he chuckled, sparking a small chain reaction that ended with you chuckling along with him. Your hand found its way over his, holding him glued to you. 

“You said I look like a fool when I am too hasty” he continued, fueling the moment for what it was, so it may melt away the tension.

“Foolish behaviour is not fit for a lord of the house of the Golden Flower” you told him, shuffling closer to him. 

Glorfindel nodded, “Precisely. And I’d be an even bigger fool not to listen to you, Meleth nîn. There’d be many songs sung about Glorfindel the Fool by now.. Hah, I can almost imagine the verses. ‘Glorfindel charged with a mighty shout, but tripped on a rock and his long cape right out’!” 

It was hard to resist laughter, and it all bubbled up to your mouth and shook your shoulders as Glorfindel came up with verses on the spot. 

“ ‘His sword slipped from his hand, stuck in a tree so high, he wondered whether he might just wish it goodbye’ “ 

He did not stop until you slapped him on the shoulder, cheeks dusted with pink from laughter. “Oh, stop! You got your point across, no need to make me suffer any more with these verses of yours” you complained as you doubled over, the top of your head pressing into his shoulder as to hide away the mirth in your face.

“Ecthellion knows how to write and sing better than I, but I am not so bad myself at weaving a rhyme or two” he replied, letting you lean into him while one arm went around you, his good arm pressing you further into him. His chest was shaking with humble chuckles. “Melin ceni hin lîn síla i ‘eladhach! Don’t hide from me” He told you after swallowing a breath and you took courage to face the golden haired lord with all your flushed-face might. 

“There you are” he added and cupped the back of your nape with his hand. “Has my recklessness frightened you?”

“No, but it might annoy me if you mention it any more” you straightened up and kissed his cheek, reveling in the way he glowed when he smiled. 

melda - beloved

Elin nin - my star

Meleth nîn - my love

Melin ceni hin lîn síla i ‘eladhach -I love to see your eyes shine when you laugh

Ⓒ n0tamused/jarttavia_. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[through-the-seas-to-valinor]

Hc Ecthelion and a short, (M) human s/o

*Short by human standards means absolutely tiny in eleven standards. One could almost compare them to dwarves.

*Will definitely be protective of him to a certain amount. It really depends on what he does for a profession.

*If He is a warrior like Ecthelion, he will be more relaxed as he knows that he can look after himself.

*If He is not a warrior, he will be more protective and will even go as far as teaching you basic self-defense.

*He is an elf, he is strong. That means he has no problems in pulling you onto his lap when it’s just both of them relaxing at home.

*Ecthelion is a dominant figure so will have no problem battling his s/o for dominance in the bedroom until the other submits.

*If He is a naturally submissive partner then he will ravish him completely. Having him ready for whatever Ecthelion plans turns him on uncontrollably.

*Ecthelion Just enjoys spending his evenings with his partner lying against him or both of them being close while they do their own activity.

[ladyoflindon]

Just to be clear, the elves in question include the Fëanorians, Nolofinwëans, Arafinwëans, Lords of Gondolin, Lords of Doriath, and elves from Imladris.

For whichever category you voted for, please comment and specify which elf you would like me to write for. Feel free to elaborate in the comments what kind of story, like the elements you’d like me to include, I should write!

Thanks a lot, everyone!

I want to write a Silmarillion fic. I love romance stories so it will be centered around a Silm elf and an OC! Comment which elf you think I should write about.

[caliawen]

Haunted

Pairing = Glorfindel x Reader

Genre = Teen and up

General ratings = a twinge of angst, fluff, smut implied (?)

Content warnings = smut implied

Word count = 1,4k

Notes = ……hi 🫣 I haven’t posted in a month 🙃 Life has been really busy and I haven’t really had the time (nor the motivation, truthfully) to write. I had a more regular schedule before, but I think for now it will stay… ‘irregular’. I have no idea when or what I will post next. Hope you can understand!

Glorfindel was being haunted. Not by ghosts- no. By the memories of his past life. Of his mistakes. Of his friends. Of their deaths. Of his death. The searing pain of his scalp as he was tugged down and down and down by the Balrog. Of the heat he felt as he fought for his life, for the lives of Idril and Tuor and Eärendil and everyone. His mind replayed those moments over and over, never leaving him a second of peace.

The slight smile of Ecthelion, Rog’s boisterous laugh, Turgon’s exasperation with them, Elgalmoth’s mischievous eyes as he gossiped, Penlod’s hums as he pretended he was listening, Galdor’s excited chatter about the trees and plants he saw, Duilin’s whistles as he walked, Tuor’s love-struck expression as his eyes followed Idril and Maeglin’s shy smile when someone asked him about his work…

Oh, Maeglin… Glorfindel had hated him, for a time. Hated him for giving Gondolin away to Morgoth, giving away their lives.. But that time had passed. In the halls of Námo, Glorfindel had had plenty of time to think before he was reborn. And think he did : about how Maeglin had lost his mother and father. About how his only parental figure was Turgon, who was too busy to really spend time with his nephew. About how he mistook his love for Idril as romantic and not platonic, and how that strained his friendship with her and Tuor. About how rumors spread that Maeglin was a vile being. About how none of them did anything to defend him. About how lonely Maeglin must have been.. About what impossible horrors he felt at the hands of Morgoth and Sauron. About how they never saw how broken Maeglin had returned. About how he didn’t care if he died anymore.

Yes, Glorfindel had thought, Maeglin had done something wrong. And he forgave Maeglin for what he had done, because Maeglin had been a child. A child who needed to be guided and shown love, but no one had stepped up to take up the role.

He thought about you. About your smile, your eyes, your nose. About the way you moved, how you talked and your passions. And he ached. Because he didn’t know what happened to you. He didn’t know if you had died, if you had suffered or if you were still alive. If you had moved on from him.. And that haunted him. His every waking thought, his every dream and nightmare.

Sometimes, Glorfindel dreamed of you. He dreamed that you were laying in his bed, in Gondolin, smiling at him. That you carded your fingers through his hair and told him that you loved him. And when he woke up, his heart ached and he did not know whether to thank or curse Irmo.

Glorfindel had a mission. He was going back to Arda Marred. And he found himself dreading going back. Dreading seeing how everything had changed and how the language had evolved. Dreading how no one he knew would be there. How he would be alone. At least in Valinor, he saw his mother and father. He found himself crying when he realized he did not remember what being embraced by his parents felt like. They took care of him and he couldn’t be more grateful to have them.

When Glorfindel departed, he stood looking at Valinor until it had been long since out of view. He stood still, wondering if he was dreaming. He thought, how ironic, for he was going back. Not anyone else. Him. Laurëfindelë Glorfindel, an emissary of the Valar, granted powers nearly as strong as that of the Maiar. And he didn’t want to go back. Nienna wept for him, for his sacrifice, for his fear and for his love. He found himself appreciating her understanding. She visited him, before he departed. He listened to her words, without understanding : “Dear Child, your heart is being haunted. Your mind is playing tricks on you, and your heart is rendered blind by your pain. But your gut, your gut is still there and strong. Follow it, follow what it tells you. But do not silence your heart and mind for it, listen to them. Listen, but do not follow.”

~~~

When Glorfindel arrived in Middle Earth, he did not know where to begin. He was tired, but could not sleep. He thought about you. About your lips on his, about your laugh, about your hands in his, about the ring he had passed on your finger. He thought and thought and thought. And his heart ached. He walked on paths and in forests, stopping to wash himself in rivers. And he despaired.

It was later that he found Lindon. Days later. Or weeks, he did not know. He met Elrond, someone who would confuse and amuse him for the rest of their lives. Part man, part elf, part maia. He wore the insignias of Fingolfin and Fëanor with pride, daring anyone to confront him about it. He was a gentle soul with a heart of gold and the patience of the wise. He was as kind as summer and Glorfindel found himself basking in his presence, like a flower who had grown up in shadow feeling the sun on itself for the first time.

Círdan was surprisingly mischievous. Subtle jokes, sarcasm and deadpan looks were all things he threw at others, uncaring if they understood or not. He was calm, but could easily terrorize anyone with his anger, like the sea. Board games were his favorite and Glorfindel spent time playing with him, thinking of strategies to beat the older elf.

Gil-Galad was as confusing as he was funny. His father was unknown and he liked to joke around about it. Glorfindel spent time with him when they could, talking about everything and nothing. When Gil-Galad felt Glorfindel starting to lose himself in memories, he would randomly tell a stupid joke. They made Glorfindel laugh each time.

Celebrimbor had been a bit weary at first. Glorfindel almost laughed at the memory of a small Curufinwë Tyelpërinquar staring at him with the exact same look. It wasn’t long until they became great friends. Celebrimbor understood : he, too, was haunted by his past actions and words. Maybe for different reasons than Glorfindel, but the important thing was that he related to how Glorfindel felt. Having his feelings validated was something that alleviated the pain in Glorfindel’s heart.

~~~

Glorfindel walked around Lindon aimlessly and leisurely, taking his time to look around. You haunted him. Everything he saw reminded him of you. From pretty rocks you would have collected, passing by a stand selling your favorite fruit, to someone wearing clothes the exact color of your eyes. His mind played tricks on him, making him imagine hearing your laugh or seeing your beautiful hair swaying in the wind.

He stopped walking at a bookstore, a feeling bubbling up inside him. He looked at the door, curious. His gut screamed at him to enter that store, for some reason. His mind dismissed the feeling, but his heart held hope. They warred against each other. And then, Glorfindel was reminded of Nienna’s words to him. And he went inside the store.

Inside the store, which was cozy and homey, he felt pulled towards a particular bookshelf. His breath hitched as his mind reeled to a stop, his heart pumping wildly. There you stood, browsing the shelf while smiling. Feeling observed, you turned your head, your eyes widening as you saw Glorfindel, your husband, your soulmate, standing there. Glorfindel was frozen, his mind scrambling and heart singing with joy. You were the one to make the first move, throwing yourself in his arms, ecstatic. Glorfindel hugged you back, a sense of wholeness overtaking his mind and body as he kissed you long and passionately.

The two of you spent hours upon hours talking, laughing, crying and hugging. This long-awaited reunion was a balm on Glorfindel’s bruised and battered heart. That night, under the stars, in a magnificent glade full of flowers, you rekindled your fëas. Glorfindel made love to you slowly and passionately, kissing every piece of skin revealed as he undressed you, worshiping your body with his hands and mouth. That night, in your arms, Glorfindel had no nightmares. He woke up to your sweet voice and felt free. Free of the thing that haunted him. And he smiled.

End notes : Hope you enjoyed! Reblogs, comments & likes are extremely appreciated 🫶

@theladyvanya

[doodle-pops]

What would be the elves' reaction to their s/o being terrible at cooking? And not because they can't make good food, but because whenever they try, something unexplainable happens. A little example below:

s/o: Honey, I know this might be much to ask, but can you handle the cooking?

Elf: Sure? Why?

s/o: It's just that I can't cook. I have either been hexed by Morgoth, or Eru himself has decided that under no circumstances am I allowed to succeed in cooking.

Elf: What do you mean?

s/o Well... Let me just show you.

s/o: *grabs up a bowl, fills it with cereal, and then adds milk. While pouring, the cereal catches on fire.*

s/o: *holding the burning cereal* So... because of this.

Reaction?

���Wow, aren’t you something else? Ha. Ha...” Believes you are cursed but loves you anyway…

— Finrod, Fingolfin, Finarfin, Aegnor, Elrond, Elrohir, Galdor

“I may not be the greatest cook, but I’m pretty sure that isn’t supposed to happen.” Tries to figure out the mystery behind it…

— Celebrimbor, Maedhros, Maglor, Amrod, Amras, Turgon, Ecthelion

“Do me, you and everyone else a favour. Don’t cook again.” Forbids you from entering the kitchen…

— Feanor, Curufin, Caranthir, Angrod, Thingol, Erestor

“You’re like a broken witch/wizard. It’s fun.” Thinks it's hilarious and encourages the chaos…

— Fingon, Celegorm, Argon, Egalmoth, Glorfindel, Beleg, Gil-Galad, Elladan

“Just don’t set me on fire...please.” Gets scared but won't admit it…

— Maeglin

[lamemaster]

Ecthellion's Sister Reader

Genre: Fluff and feels

Summary: You weren't supposed to leave...

AN: To all the siblings who have endured the bittersweet pain of separation. (Also Ecthellion as a pouty baby is an adorable image in my head)

Tucked away in the nook of his balcony, Ecthellion gazes far into the horizon. The same direction that you had left. 

His mother and father were now tired of fretting after their youngest, who had given up on eating. He just stood there in his balcony. Waiting for you to return. His elder sister to return to him.

None had told him that the celebrations of your wedding would be succeeded by the gaping agony of your absence. It had come as a surprise, when instead of returning to your room next to his, you left.

And no matter how much he begged for, none helped him find you. Perhaps for the elders around him, his yearning was an adorable childish tantrum. 

How would they know the chasm in his heart. The anguish that leaves him incapable of moving from the balcony that looks in the direction you left in. 

How was this fair? Why did they have to take his sister? Why couldn’t your husband move in with them? Ecthellion for the thousandth time, wiped away the tears that flowed down his cheeks. Were you here, you would have consoled him long ago. And by now, bickered with him ten times.

He misses you.

His elder sister. The one whom he has known since the day of his birth. The sister, who begged for a sibling. The one who claimed him to be her gift. How…how could you leave him?

Was he not a gift anymore?

Clutching the flute you loved in his hands, Echtellion perches on the railing. You weren’t done teaching him yet. He barely knew the notes and the teary hiccups made it harder. 

Why in the blessed realm of Valinor, does his heart hurt? 

“Come back…come back,” he repeats tearfully. He is past the sulking tantrums. All that is left of grief is the sweetness of longing. 

And then in the blink of an eye, he is snatched off the railing into a tight embrace. His arms wrap in a hug and tears come back with great fevor. You were back. Hugging him as the trail of your own tears flowing freely as you pick him up. 

The crumpled letter in your fist that goes unnoticed, contains the words from your mother. A gentle plea for your brother, who seemed to have taken a hit from his sister’s departure to Valmar. 

A just a glance at the letter had been enough to rush back to the streets of Tirion. A canceled honeymoon and a frazzled spouse in tow. 

"Aww, you were absolutely adorable!” You wink at your husband as you both continue grilling the dignified scholar, your brother now claimed to be.

Memories of past still fresh in your mind and heart. “Ah yes love, of course I remember leaving Valmar like the sky had collapsed and a baby ecthellion,” he giggles noticing the bashful look on Ecthellion’s face. 

“You were such a lovely brother,” you squeeze his cheek which is rewarded by a swat, and mumbled ‘I was not’. 

The sight of a sobbing, dispaired Ecthellion had felt like the gravest sin of your life. A burden heavy with the weight of his abandonment. A sin, your mother’s letter saved you from.

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Snippets of what to look forward to next week

Eärwen merely nodded and finished her wine. Save for Lómiel, the rest would take their leave after the feast to celebrate the end of the hunt. She would not have them to turn to on any matter, and she certainly would not have her lord father or her lady mother or any of her brothers. They remained in Alqualondë, and could only call on her after Lord Makar gave his express permission for them to do so. She and Lómiel would have to depend on their wits and each other while they remained within the abode of two of the most quarrelsome spirits to have ever been born out of Eru’s thought. Her apprehension must have shown, because Lómiel took her hand into hers and gave it a tender squeeze.

From chapter three of Iron Hall

“And now we wait,” Tulkas said, sitting down with his back to the thick, coppery-brown bark of a Cedar tree. Laid out before him, on a platter carved out of a fine, dark wood, were delicacies of all kinds. There were black cherries with sweetened cream, ripe pomegranates and figs, rare dainties to rouse the blood, and a clear flagon of a wine so dark it looked almost as black as the cherries themselves. He picked a fig and bit into it. It was soft and fleshy, and it tasted sweet like ripe wild berries and honey. “Come, my ladies!” He cried, his mouth still full. “Eat! Drink! Indulge yourselves!”

From "The Lotus Room" - A smutty NSFT story featuring Tulkas/Nessa/Meássë

“Please me how I desire best,” Elrond expressed, leaning back in his seat. His eyes twinkled with anticipation. “I trust I no longer have to guide you in this?” A welcomed flash of heat crept up your throat. You did not need ask for further explanation on what Elrond sought, for no further explanation was necessary. You well knew what was expected of you.

From "Reward" - A smutty NSFT story featuring Elrond/Fem. Reader

“Defying me again,” Ecthelion answered, his hands on his hips. “Did you not hear me the first time? I will take what I hunger from you, whether you will it or not. And since you persist in refusing me, I will take what I wish while you remain unwilling.” “And as I said,” you spat, “I will try and fight you off. I will not let you have your way with me while I am in this state. Do we understand each other on this?”

From "When Affections Are Spurned" - A smutty NSFT story featuring Ecthelion/Fem. Reader

A/n: These are still WIPs. The text could change here and there during editing.

[lovefairymina]

How does it feel like to be ancient, Ecthelion?

Feeling as though he was about the suffer a stroke, he swivelled, nearly snapping his neck in the process and glared. “I beg your pardon?! Ancient? I'll have you know that I may thousands of years old, but not ancient. I'm youthful and beautiful, alright.”

[theelvenhaven]

Anniversary Proposals

Glorfindel x Reader

2k Words

Request:  Greeting, I adore your blog and been here since the start, I want to attempt a request for the first time. Reader (fem  preferably or neutral) proposes to Glorfindel in marriage (in Gondolin), they were friends and pinning for eachother since so long but she is human with a limited life span, being anxious, she makes her mind up and does something unusual instead of waiting for him to make the move. Whether you do it or not, know that you're my fav Tolkien blog over here, thank you so much.

A/N: Hey anon! Wow how lucky am I that you have been here so long! I am so happy to still have you here with me on the blog! :) I stuck with neutral reader and I hope that is okay. But thank you so much for your continued support of my blog! It means so much to me! I hope you enjoy! &lt;3

* * * 

Today you were going to do it, finally having worked up the nerve and courage to do so. It was a beautiful and perfect day to do it finally. With the sky cloudless and Anor was shining brilliantly down into Gondolin. Making the white spires and walls sparkle and glitter under it’s light, the song birds sang and flitted overhead.

Spring was in full swing, with beautiful flowers in bloom. With trees of gray with leaves of green and silver glittering and swaying overhead. Thesound of fountains trickling met your ears, mingling with those birds and pollinators like bees and butterflies danced among Manwe’s wind. Yes today was absolutely perfect to propose.

To which you could thank Ecthelion for, for bolstering your confidence. Having grown far too impatient to wait any longer. It was either now- or at the pace Glorfindel was going- it would never happen. You would be a ripe one hundred-year-old on your deathbed before the words ever left his mouth and a ring was ever slipped onto your finger.

You loved him immensely and you understood the ravages of time didn’t work the same way for the elf that you grew to love so much. It was slow and long lasting, countless thousands of years he had to live before his fea consumed his body- as he explained to you- but you on the other hand. Your fea wouldn’t consume your body. You wouldn’t live for thousands of years let alone hundreds. 

You were mortal, you would age, grow weak and grow feeble. You would slip away from the world like so many of your ancestors had before you. It was inevitable, and you had come to terms with it, but what you weren’t coming to terms with was how long it was taking Glorfindel to propose. 

The first year you understood, it had only been a year into that relationship. It was so fresh and new; you would not have accepted if he had proposed then. The second year you were becoming more comfortable by the idea of getting married, but by the fourth year you were certainly ready for it. 

Yet Glorfindel never asked.  

Here you were on your sixth year of courting and still Glorfindel hadn’t asked for your hand in marriage. He hadn’t done anything that hinted to you that he was going to propose to you. Nothing to the effect that he wanted to spend the rest of your life together, and now you were downright impatient.  

Holding the little velvet box that held his ring if he couldn’t do it right. You weren’t afraid of the challenge, reminded daily that this forever wouldn’t be forever for you. 

There was no one else you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. What wasn’t to love about Glorfindel? He was kind, and cheerful, loving and funny. Yet just a tad forgetful about the fact that you were a mortal on occasion. This was certainly one of those occasions. 

Though he certainly didn’t forget anniversaries. 

Today marked your sixth anniversary, your seventh year being in Gondolin. Which had been a dream to be here, let alone meeting and being with your now partner. Save it felt like time was passing too quickly and your partner had yet to ask the question.

You hoped that when Glorfindel arrived that he didn’t have an inkling as to what it was you were planning, seeing as you had vented your frustrations to Ecthelion. Who, by all means, encouraged that you propose to him when the idea had left your lips, you made him promise to secrecy. Though there had been plenty of times in the past that Ecthelion had to breach those secrets, granted for good reasons of course.

Quietly you tucked the ring box back into your robe pockets as you heard hurried and quick footsteps begin to approach you on the veranda you stood on. Turning to find that it was Glorfindel who was approaching, with a bright and happy smile and a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

You couldn’t help but smile as you saw him, his smile was infectious as always. Warm and captivating, you took in the sight of your handsome partner. The way his long blond hair was left long with a circlet of silver sitting atop his head. Dressed in warm earthtones of browns and greens, that were embroidered with little celandines and ivy leaves.

As always your partner quite the vision and the sight for sore eyes, and you felt your nerves only begin to grow as you realized this was the ellon that you were going to propose too. For the love of Eru you prayed for courage to be able to do so.

“Y/N, meleth nin, it is good to see you. I apologize for running so behind.” Glorfindel began keeping his cheery grin as he climbed up the steps of the veranda outstretching his arms, inviting you to step in. You didn’t hesitate to hug him at the motion of the gesture, coming to rest your head against his chest and listening to the thrumming of his heart.

“It is alright, the important this is that you are here now.” You smiled and said with warmth as you lay contently there for a moment, before finally you pulled away. Wondering if now was the right time to propose to him, yet something in your gut told you to wait before you pulled out the ring box not ready to do so just yet.

“These are for you, meleth.” Glorfindel said in a soft voice, holding out the bouquet of roses towards you, you couldn’t help but grin wider as you accepted them. Taking them from his hands and bringing yourself to bury your nose in them to smell them.

There was nothing sweeter than Eldar grown roses, and the ones that the other Edain had tried to tame and grow themselves just simply couldn’t compare. Not to mention the shade of red that these were, there breathtakingly beautiful. You hummed inhaling their sweet scent,

“Glorfindel these are beautiful.” You mused to him thoughtfully before you moved cradle them gently and look up at him, seeing that his grin was certainly still there. Gently he leaned forward to capture your lips with his. Pressing a soft kiss to you,

“Not nearly as beautiful as you are… They pale in comparison.” He hummed out softly to you and you began to blush softly at his smooth and enticing words. Keeping your happy smile, before you reached for one of his hands with your free one, to pull him along further to sit down on one of the benches near the railing.

Glorfindel was happy to tag along behind you, before sitting down with you while you set the flowers aside. Glorfindel was the first to speak,

“How would you like for us to spend our day together, Y/N?” He asked with a big smile, and you couldn’t help but wear some surprise on your face. Usually for your anniversaries the two of you dedicated a lunch and your evenings together. Not really the whole day today.

“You have today off?” You asked him still with your surprise, but quickly a smile overtook you as excitement ran through you. Glorfindel mirrored your expression as he began to nod, jostling his blond hair. The rays of Anor shining down on him, making him even more ethereal and beautiful than he already was.

Yes today would be the perfect day to propose to him, damn any societal norms that said he must do it first due to his status as Lord. You were happy to do it first and knew it would all be worth it and you couldn’t wait to see the smile on his face when you did it.

“Yes I do, it is a big anniversary even if it isn’t our twelfth yet.” Glorfindel said, and ah yes you remembered how the elves had their affinity for six. A calendar that you were still adjusting too. Six days of the Week, Six Seasons, and so on. So you supposed this was a significant anniversary,

“Well then I want to give you your surprise.” You said with a big grin, and you watched the way his eyes began to sparkle with wonder and curiosity. Wondering what exactly the surprise could possibly be.

“A surprise? For me?” He said warmly and you could hear the eagerness in his voice as he spoke. Glorfindel wasn’t one for gifts, and you knew it. But every now and again when you did something on an important occasion he was always accepting of your gifts and excited to receive them.

“Mhmm I do!” You smiled to him with a big grin, before you stood up from your seat, now was the perfect time to propose to him. You had all day to do it, but you were simply full of jittering excitement and couldn’t wait to do it. That was the premise of why you wanted to propose to begin with, was because Glorfindel was taking too long.

“Now close your eyes.” You watched as he gave you a soft smile, clearly with a little hesitation in the air, as he wasn’t usually one for long drawn out surprises. Nonetheless he did exactly as he was instructed, closing his eyes, you quietly took the ring box out of your pocket. Moving to stand in front of him before kneeling down.

Opening the ring box the two of you waited in silence for a moment as you felt your heart pounding in your chest with excitement. With nervousness and even a tinge of worry finding him as you feared that he may reject you. But you hoped that wasn’t the case, you had faith that it wouldn’t be the case.

“You can open now.” You said with a bit of a shaky breath, and watched as he fluttered his eyes open to look at you and then immediately at the ring that was in the box. A look of surprise found his face and that surprise was indiscernible, you couldn’t tell if he was excited or not. If anything you were quickly growing concerned that he was going to reject you.

“Glorfindel, will you marry me?” You asked with confidence, or tried to with confidence that was dwindling down at the fact that he wasn’t answering you and the expression hadn’t left his face. Suddenly Glorfindel stood from his place on the bench, reaching out for your hands, and gently helping you to your feet.

You felt your heart sink at the fact that he hadn’t said anything- and you were utterly worried that he was about to reject you in full. As gently as he could, you knew the rejection would hurt regardless of how sweet and gentle he was. You were fully prepared for it, and you swallowed the lump in your throat.

Debating if you even wanted to hear him reject you or if you should just leave.

Before you could make a decision did his hands come to cup your face, his thumbs stroking your cheek before he dipped his head in to kiss you.

Glorfindel’s lips melded passionately with yours, stealing the air from your lungs as he did not hold back. His hands still holding your face so tenderly, lingering for the longest moment as he kissed you. You were reeling from the intensity of his kiss, hardly knowing how to react other than to kiss him back, and try and keep up with his pace.

Finally Glorfindel pulled away resting his forehead against yours, grinning widely as he continued to cradle your face.

“Of course, I will.” He breathed out joyfully, and you found yourself grinning alongside him. Your heart soaring in your chest grateful and happy that his answer was a resounding yes! That he would marry you! Praise Eru!

“There is no one I’d rather be with than you, Y/N.” Glorfindel continued, gushing with excitement, and you felt like you could breathe again. Relieved, happy, excited.

“I love you Glorfindel.” You said to him in a soft breath, and you felt his lips press back to yours again, but only for a moment.

“And I love you too.” He answered you warmly, finally all the right things had fallen into place and you couldn’t be anymore grateful with how they were turning out to be. You couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your life with him.

* * *

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