#ecthelion scenario

[doodle-pops]

Until I Found You

Ecthelion x reader

Request: Ecthelion comfort fic where they discuss all that they went through prior to marrying one another. Reader has a sad family background and had to run away from home at 13 due to abuse (not necessary to get into details if you don’t want to), and yet still made it in life. A lot of mutual reassurance, empathy, and wisdom going forward. Pref cuddling in bed or something but location is up to you <3

A/N: Thank you for the request! I wrote this pretty vague, not going into details or mentioning much about the suffering the reader faced and instead, focused on how Thel handled a resurfacing moment with reader.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, faint reminiscing on reader’s abusive past, mutual comfort and reassurance, some humour

Words: 2.2k

Synopsis: After attending a play which resurfaced old memories of your past, Ecthelion, concerned, sought to provide you with the necessary comfort.

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“You look awfully lost in thoughts.” Came the melodic voice of your beloved husband, standing in the doorway as he removed his gloves, followed by his outer robes. The glimmer of the fire caught in the silver of his attire, flickering fragmented reflections of kaleidoscopic images on the wall.

Swivelling your head around to face him, he was already marching into the room, undressing as he walked—a habit of his—into the walk-in closet. You hadn’t spoken or even returned the faint whisper of a hum his way, eyes fixated on his figure as he whirled around the room like a miniature storm. From the vanity to the closet, then back to the vanity—he was quiet the disarray tonight, far less composed than any other night. Nevertheless, your eyes followed his movements, a ghost smile playing on your lips as he remained focused on removing the stubborn trousers that became a size too small for him, yet he insisted that he would fit perfectly into them. Now, he paid the price, especially after feasting and drinking.

“Are you alright?” he questioned, snapping you out of your trance.

With jerky movements, you inclined your head towards him with a puzzled expression marring your face. “Whatever do you mean?”

He sighed, shuffling out of the last piece of clothing that made him feel compact and walked over to the edge of the bed. Hovering at the edge, his hand reached out, knuckles curling and brushing over your cheek. You leaned into his touch and shutting your eyes at the warmth his hands always provided, you hummed in contentment before opening your eyes to gaze upwards. “How was the dinner?”

He gave a knowing smile and moved to sit at the edge, his hand shifting to hold yours. “It was exactly as anticipated. Egalmoth was the first to become drunk and started stripping, Laurë challenged me to a competition and embarrassingly lost—ended up crying, and Rog was late due to working on some one-of-a-kind piece.”

“Sounds like you had a lot of fun,” you jested, squeezing his hand while your thumb idly traced patterns at the back. “I should accompany you next time and see all the antics myself.”

“Hmm, I’m afraid that might traumatise you for the rest of your life. Don’t want that,” he chuckled lightly and looked down at where your hands were entwined, his heart warming at the sight.

You scoffed with a roll of your eyes and threw him an exasperated look. “I doubt that. I’ve faced worse things and still came out on top. If anything, I can endure all the antics that your odd group of friends conjures by the day.”

There was a short pause after your statement, your words nearly falling flat before a sudden, loud laugh escaped him. His head tossed backwards as it grew heartily, a deep rumble from within. “Oh my love, you are full of surprises. But indeed, I’m sure you can put up with them,” he acknowledged, lifting your hand to his lips and imparting a long, sweet kiss to your knuckles, gazing into your eyes lovingly. “But how was your day spent away from me?”

You hummed at the question and his actions, feeling your stomach fluttering and performing cartwheels by the dozens. You fought to control your expression, not wanting to end up like a blushing fool who caves in at the mere contact of their husband kissing their hand—as if you hadn’t had numerous occasions before. Darting your eyes away from him and focusing on the bed, your other hand reached out to idly pluck at the sheets. “It was…well spent,” you began with some hesitation before taking a deep breath and continuing, “went to see a play today—the one I told you about, ‘No Place Like Home?’”

He gave a curt hum and waited for you to continue, always enjoying when you spoke about your day instead of his—the best part about his day. “It was much different from the others we attended. This one…” you paused, trying to find the right words to describe what you felt as you observed the play from start to finish. “This one felt too close to home. I wasn’t expecting it to be so similar to what I experienced…”

Your voice was left to hang in the air, there were no words spoken between you or Ecthelion. Only the faint sound of the firewood crackling in the hearth and your breathing.

The topic of your past was a touchy one, more so for Ecthelion rather than you, having overcome the obstacles and wanting to live your life to the fullest. You made the option to overcome the burdens, facing your memories all for the sake of wanting to never feel weighted by them as you lived in the future. Whereas Ecthelion, well, it was simply a touchy subject that left him torn, even when he had no part to play in your early years. Carrying your burdens as if they were his own. He always seemed to be the one who was more affected by your past than you were.

Realising that he wasn’t planning on responding, you continued in a more upbeat tone to disperse the growing heaviness in the room. “I still enjoyed the play, nonetheless. The songs were well-written and sung—credits to the writers and singers—”

“And the story? Was it also…” His words were left in suspension, waiting for you to pick them up.

“Interesting? Enjoyable?” you inquired, giving his hand a gentle, yet firm squeeze of reassurance. “Well, the story was about a child unable to bear the pressure of high expectations placed upon them, punished brutally in return, and then ran away, finding peace in the comforts of a stranger who offered them a new start. It ended with the child, now an adult, having the happy ending they deserved.”

“And that reminded you of yourself,” he said softly, a statement rather than a question.

You nodded against him. “I hadn’t thought about those days in a long time. But seeing it unfold on the stage tonight, watching it happen to someone else...it brought everything back.”

Ecthelion was quiet for a moment, his grip tightening on your hand. And when he spoke, it was thoughtful. “It is one thing to look back on our own pasts, but another to see them reflected in another’s story. It makes us remember not just the events, but the way we felt—the fear, the pain, the uncertainty.” He exhaled softly. “Did it bring you sorrow?”

You considered that. “Not sorrow. Not exactly. Just...a strange sort of reflection.” You shifted and adjusted the sheet over your lower half. “I thought about how much has changed since then. How I never imagined, back then, that I would one day have this—a home, a life of my own...you.”

“You built this life for yourself,” he murmured with reassurance. “Through hardship and pain, through struggle and determination. You carved your own path, and that strength is something to be proud of.”

“I did come a long way,” you whispered with a small smile. “All thanks to you.”

“And in this play, did they find someone to love them and relieve them of their burdens?” he quietly mumbled, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

“Hmm—” you tapped your chin with your finger, pretending to appear deep in thought, “—well, their beloved appeared to be quite the crybaby, if I must say. Also, very cute, more cute than handsome—”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny,” he grumbled, disgruntled at your teasing as you reminisced on how teary he was in the earliest when you both met. You would never let him live it down, constantly reminding him at every opportunity you got. “I was not a crybaby.”

“I did not say that you were. I was speaking about the main love interest.”

“You were implying.”

“Your words, not mine.”

He scoffed with a roll of his eyes, a smile playing at the corners of his lips despite his annoyance. You did have a way of turning the most melancholic conversations into something lighter and enjoyable. That was your charm, your secret weapon that he fell for when he first met you—dispelling all the negativity even when you had yours sitting on your back. To still see light in dark places after everything, it took a lot of courage and hope to get where you are.

Glancing at you once more, his face became serious, lines of concern etched into his forehead, making him appear aged. “Did it trouble you?”

With a dramatic exhale, though you understood his distress, you reached your other hand out to place over his, sandwiching his hand between yours. “Thel. My sweet as honey, Thel,” you cooed and smiled at the way he uncontrollably blushed, “it does not bother me anymore. I have made up my mind to live in the present—I want to live the life I’ve always dreamed of, and I cannot do so if my past is a constant burden at every turn. I have learned to make peace because I have a future to look forward to. A future with you, the one who gave me a chance.”

“The one who fell in love with the apothecary because he was stumbling over his words, asking for herbs for a headache,” he laughed, and you followed suit, joining with your joyous and infectious sounds.

“Indeed,” you confirmed. “The one who, when asked about his headache, began asking me about my day, my name, who I was, as though he was about to hire me for another trade.”

He met your gaze, his expression turning serious. “Because I saw something in you that I could not ignore. And the more I learned, the more I knew I wanted to be part of your life.”

Your heart swelled at his words. "And now you are."

He smiled, relieved. “Now I am. However, I wasn’t a crybaby like the main love interest.”

Without missing a beat, you countered. “I beg to differ. Remember when I told you about—” Your words were cut off by a hand clamping over your mouth to silence the rest of that embarrassing story that would forever haunt him. No one needed to know the horror he would take with him to the grave.

Eyes crinkling at the corners, you gave a muffled, amused laugh as you watched him grow redder by the second at the mentioned memory. You were not one to let him forget such a precious memory. If you could frame it in a picture and hang it on the wall, you would.

“Sorry, you know I can’t help it,” you giggled and reached out to remove his hand from over your mouth. “You were so precious.”

“Hmm, of course, I was,” he muttered half-heartedly, not forgetting to roll his eyes. Redirecting the conversation back to the original topic, he spoke up. “But…I just want to ensure that you’re alright and the play didn’t resurface anything. You always say that you’re alright and then something suddenly happens, and you relapse for a bit. I just want to make sure that you’re not saying this for my cause.”

The air fell silent. You inhaled sharply, looking down at your hands sandwiching his, your teeth gnawing at your lower lip. Then, you glanced up at him, meeting his awaiting eyes. The intensity behind his steel-grey eyes made your heart skip a beat and your stomach flip. It wasn’t the gaze that left you feeling anxious or guilty, it was one that was warm and inviting—holding no malice or disappointment—just pure safety.

“I can never convince you enough, can I?” You gave an airy, laugh, then took a deep breath and leaned forward, bridging the gap between you until there was nought but an inch of space between your faces. His eyes softened at the closeness. “You’re so good to me. Giving me a chance to experience the love of another person and letting me live my life to the fullest,” you whispered genuinely. “I appreciate that, my love.”

A beat passed, and then he spoke up with a smile. “That answers my concern, then?”

“Thoroughly. Though, I have nothing to hide from you. You are the one soul I will bear myself to without hesitation,” you admitted without hesitation.

“You should have nothing to fear from your past,” Ecthelion murmured after a while. “It shaped you, yes, but it does not define you. You have built something beautiful, something no cruelty could ever take from you.”

Then gingerly, he leaned in to press his lips against your cheek. The kiss was short, simple and sweet. Nothing different from the man who sat before you, cradling your face with his other hand as though you were glass. Pulling away first, Ecthelion tilted his head to meet your forehead and planted a longer kiss on your warm skin, humming against you in contentment. “Why don’t I finish freshening up and then return to you more decently, and we can assess the rest of your comfort?”

“Only if you promise to cuddle me,” you replied.

“I would be a madman to deny,” he laughed, and forced himself away from your warmth, rising to his feet and marching towards the closet to disrobe the remaining clothes he wore.

You, on the other hand, sat there, staring at his retreating figure, feeling all the more content now that you got your thoughts off your chest. You truly could not have been any more grateful for meeting someone like him all those years ago. You wished it could have been under better circumstances; however, you didn’t regret meeting and falling in love with him.

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[through-the-seas-to-valinor]

Lords Of Gondolin

Glorfindel

Headcanons

Glorfindel x Human Crush Who Is Badly Wounded

Glorfindel Smitten By His Crush Whose Admiring The Night Sky

Playing With Glorfindel's Hair

Glorfindel nsfw with his male partner

 Glorfindel Returning From War and S/o Being Very Happy To See Him

Scenarios:

Glorfindel Stargazing With S/O

Ecthelion

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

[gondolinweek]

HEAR YE! HEAR YE!

Note: This will be the last early details revealed before we unveil the individual scenarios for our daily prompts.

May 14th Feast of Summer Turgon, Idril, Eärendil

May 15th Ceremony of Silence Aredhel, Maeglin, Rog

May 16th Songs of Sunrise Ecthelion, Salgant

May 17th Dance of Daylight Duilin, Egalmoth, Penlod

May 18th Tales of Triumph Galdor, Glorfindel, Pengolodh

May 19th Parade of Passage Tuor, Voronwë

May 20th Freedom of Summer FREE

While we cannot stop you from using this information to begin creating your works (and, in fact, encourage you to), we would ask that you consider using tumblr's scheduling feature to post your works. Regarding works posted in the AO3 archive, the collection will be moderated throughout the event, and works will be revealed once Gondolin Week begins on May 14th.

[tiutale]

"Galdor hand me that-no the-woukd you let me finish and stop grabbing random objects!" Glorfindel's amused voice barely made it through the din of the hall. Galdor laughed holsing his hands up in defeat.

The Main Hall was bustling with elves of every House Lord to cook to chamber elf helping get things ready for mid winter.

Egalmoth walked passed the two shaking his head. Arms laden with strings of flowering plants. Rog's booming voice cut through the laughing cries of Ecthelion as his ladder once more was bumped by a rushing elf. An elf who colored at Rog's admonsihment to be careful and apologized in deep bows to Ecthelion.

Turgon grinned at Idril as they both set up the tables near the east wall. Where the prizes for later games would be held.

"Galdor! Are you going to hand me that or simply play with it?!"

Galdor grinned and tossed it up to the menacing vanya. "One would think over the years we would find a way to decorate with less chaos." Setting his hands on another string and bracket he glanced up and moved to steady the ladder Glorfindel was on. "There now. Do not overstretch or you will spill yourself into my boxes here."

Glorfindel grinned down at him. "I have never fallen from-"

A shout and crash across the Hall cut off his words. Laughter errupted soon after and chaos of a less organised scene began to ensue. Rog's vouce cut through the din as both Glorfindel and Galdor watched with worry and amusement.

Ecthelion dangled from the wall he had been decorating holding to a sconce that thankfully held no torch. The ladder he had been on was lying several feet away with an elf half beneath it. Fabric was wrapped about both and two others were trying to figure out where the elf, ladder, and fabric could be seperated.

Rog was shaking his head. His smile was wide enough to tell no one had been injured. Egalmoth stood just to the right of Echthelion calling up to him what he said the two Lords could not hear.

Turgon and Idril were laughing off near another table.

"Should we assist?" Glorfindel asked a little worried that no one had tried to help their friend down just yet. "Ee do have a usable ladder."

Galdor pretended to think over the scenario. "Do we wish to endanger our ladder? They have proven untrustworthy of such a tool. "

Glorfindel laughed climbing down from his perch. "Then we shall have to surpervise them as one should do with errant elflings playing with tools they ate not grown enough to use."

Togethe they carried their ladder over to the other Lords and made short work of rescuing the dangling Ecthelion. A break had been called until the chaos had settled once more.

Midwinter in Gondolin alwaya proved to be something to remember. This year was proving to be one above all tha would remain in their minds for some time.

[bretwalda-lamnguin]

Denethor and Saruman are implied to have interacted multiple times by Tolkien, and I think there are some very interesting possibilities here. In ROTK Denethor says Saruman has visited Minas Tirith to use the archives, in the Palantiri essay Tolkien says the two likely had contact through their palantiri (with profit to Denethor!) In the appendices it says that Denethor and Thorongil (Aragorn) disagreed on only one thing, Thorongil encouraged Ecthelion to listen to Gandalf rather than Saruman (but does not say whether Denethor was advocating for Saruman or against wizards generally).

It's a fascinating scenario. Saruman who is known for his compelling voice, and Denethor who is known for being stubborn and difficult to deceive. Were they ever friends? Did Saruman attempt to exert influence over Denethor? Was he successful or was he rejected?

The thought of Denethor being Saruman's pupil is very intriguing. Not only for the betrayal of Saruman coming to support Sauron, who Denethor would rather die than bow to, feeding Denethor's feelings of isolation, but also for how it relates to Faramir and his relationship to Gandalf. The master betraying the cause the pupil stays loyal to is also an interesting idea.

And the first time they encountered each other through the palantir? Saruman must know he has been caught doing something he shouldn't. If it is before Saruman is ensnared by Sauron I can imagine Denethor scolding Saruman, warning him of the danger, Denethor has the right and the strength, Saruman does not.

If after, it may well be a stinging betrayal. There would be some catharsis though, Denethor has proved stronger and more determined than a wizard. Not just any wizard either, but the head of the Istari! But there is no joy in this. If Saruman is in league with Sauron he will act against Rohan, turning a war where the Gondorians have little chance and one ally to one where they are completely isolated and have no chance.

[magpiecaranthir]

Olwe as king of the Teleri being forced to welcome each ship of elves that sailed, and then one day that very last ship. And then it's just one very drunk king and one very drunk kinslayer. Elves probably also have a rule about harming/judging drunk people, so they can literally do nothing about Tinwe. Worst case scenario: Elrond is also there and ready to fake cry.

Scenario: they get SUPER FUCKING sloshed. Like cant even bother to know if its day or night sloshed.

Boat docks some late afternoon after days on sea. Quite a few people there bc who tf comes that late?? Ecthelion, obv. There, bc he's been quite hopeful tinwe would come to Aman at some point. Thranduil's wife and Legolas are there, too, bc if anyone were to come around that late it would be their husband/dad.

Everyone waits for someone to get off the boat. Nothing happens.

Awkward throat clearing. Nothing happens.

Ecthelion is Over It and marches on the boat to see Tinwe and Thranduil mumble about some random shit while nursing a huge flagon of wine. He picks her up and throws her over his shoulder. She never vomits so fuck it that will do.

Confused looks when thranduil's wife hauls him off the boat in much the same manner kings being manhandled yummy

"Wait wait," slurs Thranduil. Hands tinwe the flagon. She takes a huge gulp and gives back the bottle.

[redbean-nom]

assuming both of them are just dropped into fight mode (so feanor doesn't have time to invent guns 10000 years early) within reasonable distance of each other - i'd say this depends on the specifics of the combatants. is it Random CT vs Random Sinda? Generic Trooper vs Generic Noldo Soldier? Cody vs Ecthelion? A-17 vs Maedhros?

the thing is, the average noldorin soldier is essentially a somewhat sturdier 13th-14th century knight and is generally very vulnerable to blaster fire. but then the power curve gets insanely steep once you hit the transition point in Background Extra -> Unnamed but Mentioned -> Named And Titled. so in short, in a battle between a Generic Background trooper vs Background Extra noldo, the guy with the plasma bolts probably wins. in a battle between a clone and a Named Elf, the elf in question has probably killed 20000 orcs and a share of balrogs and does not really care how heavily armed this random guy is.

average CT (phase 1 armor, dc-15) vs. average noldorin soldier (iron helm, hauberk, spear, sword, shield):

the clone wins. standard blasters should be able to get through durasteel-equivalent armor, since they can punch through entire droids. from there it's a simple matter of staying out of spearing range while shooting.

cody (phase 2 armor, dc-15) vs ecthelion (noldorin steel/mithril plate armor, spiked helm, shield, orcrist, silver flute):

definitely ecthelion. the range is less of a factor here since cody is decidedly more melee-inclined than the average clone, and additionally ecthelion's armor is essentially full beskar plate with a bonus shield, so not much that blasters can do there. cody's main non-blaster attacks are Knife and Kick, which is easily countered by ecthelion's Sword, Helmet Stab, and Grapple Kick. the main issue here is if cody happens to have detonators on hand; however, even gothmog couldn't do enough fire damage to stop ecthelion, and on top of that ecthelion can move/dodge a great deal faster than the droids the detonators were designed for. cody is getting stabbed, sorry.

17 (alpha arc armor, giant blaster, post-ventress but pre-grievous) vs Mae (noldorin steel/mithril plate armor, sword, post-thangorodrim pre-nirnaeth):

they whack each other to the point where any reasonable person should have been thoroughly dead an hour ago and decide to call it off because honestly i don't think either of these guys can be killed by anything but their own bad decisions.

Bonus round! Jango (beskar alloy armor, westar-34 x2, jetpack, jetpack rocket, flamethrower, a hundred different mini rockets, way too many belt pouches) vs Feanor (noldorin steel/mithril armor, sword, shield, anger)

they both die. sure, feanor has better armor but he is prone to making absolutely horrible decisions than get him nearly-to-entirely killed. he also cannot fly and is not immune to Jetpack Rocket. however, he does possess the unique ability to completely ignore the fact that by all rights, he should be dead immediately after getting whackamoled by every balrog in existence. most likely scenario here is jango flies up and gets feanor to the point where he should definitely be dead via blasters and rockets. feanor in turn does not realize this and manages to defy every law of life, death, and physics in order to decapitate jango. he then finally notices that he Should Be Dead and promptly bursts into flames with a dramatic speech.

Do you think a clone (star wars) could defeat a first age elf (silm)? Me and my girlfriend have an argument about that right now....

Well... the clone has a gun...

As far as I know the silm elves are not immune to blaster fire XD. Even though Feanaro might be able to develop armor with is and then the clone would be in trouble. Hm...

@redbean-nom as the expert, what do you think?

[awkwardkindatries]

D, F, and K for Ecthelion

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

Whenever he masturbates he has a penitence for letting his mind wander off to many different individuals and scenarios, even if he’d never seriously consider them.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Kind of like a straight sitting doggy? Both of you up right on your knees, your back flush against his as he pushes and pulls you back and forth by the bend of your elbows.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

I feel like he’d have an immense skill fucking kink, the idea of power that encompasses having his partner on their knees and he pistons his cock down their gullet, taking an uncomfortable amount of pride as he listens to them choke. His favorite part is the end, after he’s forced his seed down their throat and pulls himself free it’s followed by thick strings of saliva and cum that dribble down your chin having been blended together by his mistranslations.

[tolkien-feels]

Ahhh for the character ask game, Glorfindel or Ecthelion? Or Turgon? Honesty anyone from Gondolin that you have Thoughts™️ about

I was emoting about Turgon on my own a few days ago so I'll go with him. (I also...... Just generally love him a lot......)

one aspect about them i love: It's almost unfair to say this because I know it's a byproduct of how much we know about him, but I really enjoy his complexity! So many Silm characters have one-note personalities that require extensive scholarship, but Turgon has like, a symphony personality, if I can invent this phrase lol

one aspect i wish more people understood about them: There's literally no scenario in which Turgon can be both High King of the Noldor and King of Gondolin successfully. He has to prioritize one of these things, almost by definition. While I (admittedly having no head for politics) find all the discussions about this fascinating, I think they should be done with the understanding that Turgon was in a very difficult position where every decision is always going to be the lesser of two evils, not the greater of two goods or a only-one-right-choice situation

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have about this character: When he was younger, he was every bit as stubborn as his siblings. But after losing his wife, he's developed a tendency to value loved ones even above his own wisdom. This means that he learns to compromise (good!) but also that sometimes he goes along with plans he knows are unlikely to end well (bad!) so who's to say if that's a character upgrade or downgrade

one character i love seeing them interact with: Aredhel. I know they don't share a lot of screentime (so to speak) but the little we see is just great! It has both conflict and love and that's catnip for me

one character i wish they would interact with/interact with more: Fingon. I feel like we don't know nearly as much about them as you'd think given their importance! Fanon for them is great, but I do wish we had more canon to work with

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have that involve them and one other character: I don't know how this isn't a running gag in the fandom: Turgon and Finrod's beloved baby sisters are born on the same year. Plot twist, Turgon and Finrod don't get along because they're wise, it's because they share a bond forged by gushing about sisters who are growing up so fast and are so perfect and fair and bold and and and and

[doodle-pops]

Love Scenario

Ecthelion x reader

Request: Hey! Can I request a dating fic between reader and Ecthelion? How does he woo/court her? What about their engagement? Wedding plans? Especially if this is set in Valinor after the FoG, and he’s just come back to life, and like, omg, now I have this lady I want to check out when I’m fresh out of soul prison. He probably relies on Glorfindel a little bit because he’s been more established since the late Second Age and comes from a “house of princes.” - Anon

A/N: As mentioned, I absolutely enjoyed writing this piece for Thel.

Warnings: fluff, humour, Egalmoth and Glorfindel helping their dear best friend, a bit of a sentimental moment, indirect confession

Words: 2.5k

Synopsis: With his return to Valinor and the desperate call to take action, Ecthelion has made it his purpose, day and night, to construct the perfect future for you happily ever after.

“How long has he been like this?”

“Since he returned.”

“…That’s over five months, Laurë!”

A weary side-eye glance at Egalmoth from Glorfindel and the former folded his lip to refocus his attention to their dear friend who was fretting over the right colours to paint the interior of your future house. Ask him if he had plucked the courage to speak to you upon his return and he’d throw swears at his friends. But he was already envisioning his life with you as though the most important action was completed. Dream on.

“Cream, bone white or ivory cream?” Came the steady voice of Ecthelion. In his hands were strips of the colours he suggested and on his face was a panicked expression as though he was running out of time.

Frowning and ready to calm his dear friend, Glorfindel stretched his palms outwards and gently waved them up and down to soothe the madman or rather, elf. “Thel, don’t you think this is all too much? You haven’t even asked—”

“Yes, I just did. What colour should I choose?” Ecthelion enunciated and widened his eyes further to emphasise his point.

At this point, it was Egalmoth to the rescue as he placed the vat of wine down and exhaled, ready to appear as the saviour to most, since all was impossible, of his stress. “What is the purpose of the colours, Thel?”

“Balusters for the balcony,” Ecthelion responded calmly as though you and he were already living together—in his head, you were—and he was tasked with the décor, both interior and exterior.

The room fell into silence as all three Lords were left at one another, or rather both Glorfindel and Ecthelion were left gawking at Ecthelion’s seriousness. Not a stutter or flatter in the batting of his lashes did Ecthelion show any signs of uncertainty when it came to answering their questions. He was indeed picking out the colour of the balusters for the balcony, so when you wished to hang your baskets of flowers or sit in the evening and gaze at the setting sun, whatever you wore would be highlighted by the colour the balusters were.

Tongue in cheek, Glorfindel closed his mouth and flashed an awkward grimace before cutting the silence with an answer. “Bone white, especially if you’re choosing to paint your house in blue, it would mesh well with each other.”

Grateful for the say, Ecthelion wasted no time in returning to his colour scheming and designing of your future home with a small ‘thank you’. However, Egalmoth was beginning to find confusion in this entire dynamic since they were both against feeding into their dear friend’s delusions. The look of disgust plastered across the silver-haired male’s face as he scrutinised Glorfindel grew intensely as the second ticked by.

“Are you serious? No, no, no, don’t cut me off. I’m being serious here,” he protested at Glorfindel’s attempt to sway his mind. Dropping his voice and octave and inching his head closer to bridge the gap between him and the latter, he whisper-yelled, “Are you serious?! We were asked to help him finish his confession letter so he could serenade Y/N, not indulge in his delusionary fantasies that cannot exist until he confesses! Why are you helping him?!”

Amused at the sudden outburst from his comrade, he released small chuckles at his concern for their ‘puppy love’ friend. “But weren’t you—”

“No, no, no, no, no. Do not categorise me as an accomplice when I am not!” Pinching his brow, Egalmoth flung his back against the cushioned chair a little too hard, defeating the cushioning purpose. A quiet yelp slipped out before a series of exasperated sighs followed and a single eye roll. “I’m here to help lover boy get his lover, not keep him looking like a sick puppy.”

Unable to respond, Glorfindel watched with laughter as Egalmoth rose from his seat and trudged over to Ecthelion to pry the sheet of paper out of the ebony-haired elf’s hands which almost sparked an outburst.

“Alright, I’ve had enough. You summoned us to aid you with wooing Y/N and here we are aiding you with picking house colours. Well no more! Get me your best rendition of your confession Laurë helped you write. Get up!” With a wave of his hand, Egalmoth ushered Ecthelion to his feet to recite his poem. Unfortunately, Thel was able to cast a sheepish expression which spoke volumes and made both Lords groan.

Holding his palms upwards to surrender, he defended himself as best as he could. “In my adversity, I was overcome with excitement for our future each time I sat down to finish the poem, so I have an excuse.”

This time, it was Glorfindel who turned on the heat and cast his dear friend a look of disappointment. With his arms and legs crossed, he bore holes in Ecthelion’s head, creating possible solutions to help his helpless friend without launching his harp at his head. Needless to say, Glorfindel sighed heavily with the pressures of another person’s burden on his shoulders. “Where’s the parchment with the poem? Let’s see how well we can impersonate the great Elemmírë and create a masterpiece for you to profess your undying love for Y/N. Only this time you’re alive and not dead.”

Ending his joke with laughter, accompanied by Egalmoth, he rose from his chair to grip the parchment from Ecthelion’s hands as he produced it from inside his robes. With another disappointed shake of his head, he requested a charcoal and soon, all three were—rather two since Ecthelion kept interrupting to discuss your future—slaving away to create a poem worthy of your name. Nonetheless, after the first hour and a half passed, he managed to get into the flow of creating words from his mind and very soon the poem was halfway completed.

“Okay, so we have the first two stanzas down—thankfully!” sassed Egalmoth as he threw an unbiased glare at the ebony hair Lord who did not hesitate to return one with common courtesy. “I think one more stanza could be added; try fitting in a line that confesses his love?”

Sharply reading through what was already written, Ecthelion had found everything to be perfect, yet still missing something. Prying the parchment from Glorfindel’s fingers, Thel paced up and down the drawing room muttering to himself about the things he could include about you.

Your eyes? Your voice? Your beauty—no, that was already included. Perhaps…

And so, he began to recite the poem in hopes of conjuring the rest.

“In gardens fair, where roses bloom,

A beauty found, defying gloom.

Like you, fair one, a bloom so rare,

With an elegance that fills the air.

“Yet in this garden, one may find,

A soul as lovely, gentle, and kind.

Each delicate curve, each gentle hue,

Reflects the sweetness found in you.

“Oh, delicate rose of whispered sighs,

In your presence, the world complies,

For your grace outshines the floral art,

A masterpiece of tender heart.

“So let me liken you, my dear,

To roses blooming, ever near.

For in your grace, in every part,

You hold the essence of my heart.

“I lo—”

He froze as though the words were stuck in his throat. At the tip of his very tongue, he knew the next syllable to whisper to you whenever he got the chance. Yet, it refused to fall off his tongue as though something held it back. The trembling of his hands gave it away, though his slight stubbornness pushed his fear away and replaced it with confidence.

False confidence. He scoffed and stared at the ivory cream carpet.

What was he to be afraid of? He was the Great lord Ecthelion of the Fountain who slayed four Balrogs and great tales were sung of him. He stared death in its eye, confessing to you would be as easy as walking through the silvery streets of Gondolin once again. Yet something held him back.

The day he left you in the city of Tirion that day he departed, gnawed at his memory. It was easier to picture being with you than working up the courage to share his heart knowing that you might reject him. You had every right to since he floundered the opportunity ages ago. It didn’t matter how many forms of encouragement came his way; anxiety lurked overheard. His only wish was that he had confessed to you before departing to reduce this turmoil.

“Thel?” The soft whisper of Glorfindel’s voice woke him up and returned him to reality. “Is everything alright?”

There was a deafening silence before the crumpling of paper followed by a sigh. “Who am I fooling? I can’t bring myself to do this anymore.”

“Oi, mate! What are—What are you doing? We’ve come so far,” Egalmoth reasoned as he shot from his seat with his hands outwards. “You can’t back out now!”

“Well, I am!” Ecthelion responded curtly, whipping his head around to shoot a tired look at his friends. “All this…All of this I’m doing, and what if Y/N rejects me? I had the opportunity aeons ago and I didn’t—”

“And yet Y/N stayed without loving someone else. Isn’t that enough to let you know that they’re waiting for you to still try? Imagine if you didn’t have this chance, and they found someone else, you would blame yourself, right? Then don’t! Come on, Thel,” Egalmoth encouraged as he took steps closer to his friend, bending down to retrieve the balled-up parchment off the floor. “Don’t let all those months of designing your future home be for nothing! Picture me as Y/N; what would you say if you had the chance?”

The glare he threw at Egalmoth was enough to make anyone else scurry away. The temper and fury behind his eyes; water brimmed his lower lashes as a barbed wire found its way around his neck. The first inhale he took burned his lungs. It was better to be left in the fantasy world.

Parting his lips, his silver-grey eyes burnt with passion as his heart cried a symphony of love. “I would say that I’m sorry, and I love you.” he began with a feathered whisper, “I have loved you morning, noon and night, even in death. My soul yearns for the very essence of yours for I cannot exist without you; I do not think that I can. I wish to be at your side in this life, hereafter and the next; I never wish to be parted from you from this moment onwards. I only wish to cherish you…if you would forgive me and accept me as I am.”

The silence in the air was thick. A pin could fall to the carpet and a sound would ricochet. Both Lords were caught by the throat from the rawness of the confession, a stark contrast to what was originally discussed. Flowery words.

Heaving as though a burden was lifted from his chest, Ecthelion felt tears pooling his low lashes from the anxiety he suffered from his mistakes. He just wanted to be with you. Not go through this turmoil of overcoming his f—

Clap! Clap! Clap! “Oh, that was beautiful!”

The sound of three necks snapping simultaneously reverberated clearly in your eardrums as your sudden voice and clapping startled all three Lords. However, once all three pairs of eyes were locked on your figure standing gracefully as ever in the doorway, you froze mid-clapping and stood at attention, eye darting from left to right. You felt like you were unintentionally being scolded by your old buddies.

Shuffling on your feet, you offered a wolfy grin with an awkward chuckle. “Sorry, the worker informed me that Lord Ecthelion was in the drawing room relaxing with familiar company and I was permitted to enter. If I’m obstructing, I’ll come back another time.”

“Oh no, no, no, no!” exclaimed Glorfindel with a beam brighter than the sun as the opportunity of a lifetime presented itself on a diamond platter. He wasted no time in flying out of his chair and grabbing Egalmoth by his scruff to head towards the exit, leaving Ecthelion standing confused in the centre of the room. “You can stay and chat with Ecthelion, we were just heading to the kitchen for condiments since he enjoys starving us. Farewell Y/N, we’ll catch up another time!”

You stood aside as both Lords brushed past your figure to rush down the hallway in the opposite direction of the kitchen as far as you could remember from your childhood. Pinching your brows with a whimsical expression, you remained standing in the doorway, not wanting to appear any more intruding than you had already proven to be. There was a curt nod from you in the ebony-haired elf’s direction, an awkward action which made no sense, yet proved to ease your nerves.

Tongue in cheek, you eyed the interior of the room before returning your focus to the statue of an elf at the centre. “I liked your words, the declaration of love, I meant. Is it for a play, not that I knew you to be the type of person to engage in those activities, or a song or poem?”

“Yes,” he curtly responded. The most unmanageable response to escape his silvery tongue slipped out. In Ecthelion’s head, he was screaming and attempting to drown himself for his foolish display. In his mind, his day was going from great to good to terrible to I-don’t-know-if-this-should-be-counted. Where and when did you spawn from?

Awkwardly nodding your head at his reply, you raised your brow. “Nice, um, I wanted to personally come here to give this to you,” you murmured and crossed the floor to stand a foot from the centre to hand him an envelope with his name written. “It’s a banquet and my family told me to invite a plus one, so—”

“You thought of me?”

“Yes!”

“Why?”

Your face fell at the suddenness of his low confidence. The Ecthelion you knew from yesteryears would not have doubted anyone’s decision to have him as a first choice; this was not your Thel.

“You don’t wish to attend? My apologies, I’ll just take back the invite then.” Your hands made a grab to pry the envelope from his fingers, but he was quicker to move it out of your grasp. Deflating at his actions, you huffed. “Do you want to attend the banquet or not?”

“Yes! But why?”

“W-…Why?! Thel, I haven’t seen you in ages,” you angrily laughed and felt a wave of emotion welling in your throat making it difficult to meet his eyes. “I missed you and I did miss your return because I was busy preparing for the banquet hoping that I could spend the night with you. Chatting, drinking, dancing, or finding a secluded spot away from everyone. I miss you, and I know you miss me too. So come, please.”

You missed him. You missed him. You wanted to spend time with him alone. No better words were spoken from your lips to convince him to stay away. A moment the doors of opportunity opened; this time he was not ignoring it.

Clutching the envelope firmly between his fingers, he smiled. Gingerly nodding his head before breaking into it vigorously, he gave you a look of affection he could not resist. “I’ll be there in my finest wear.”

“Lovely!” you beamed and stared into his eyes. The tears were still brimming your lashes, only in smaller quantities which was less of an issue now that the problem was resolved. “And perhaps you can recite the confession you gave to Egalmoth earlier at the banquet, I’d love to hear it once more, in private.”

Understanding the meaning behind your words, he gave a gentle, yet stiff nod. “Of course,” he breathed with a look of anxiety. “Of course, a confession for you.”

Masterlist

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[welcomingdisaster]

@nelyoslegalteam >:3

this is such a fun question and such a fun scenario and i'm delighted by it. the way i was planning it out right, this did not happen until fairly late in the story -- turgon leaves immediately, basically just "ecthelion's in charge, give the crown to my daughter, bye guys." he cannot lose one more person and if there's any change at all he can save his brother he's taking it

meanwhile maedhros is both farther away, distance-wise, and trying to account for his own brothers post battle (we know that all the feanorians that had fought had been injured!). i also think he does not get the news and details of what happened as quickly.

soo he is going on the rescue mission (and, most likely, maglor is coming with him, because maglor is not letting his brother leave to go to the enemy alone again), but it's going to take him a fair while longer than it takes turgon.

actually, one of the few scenes i picture super vividly is the scene where they do meet up. i'm super into the idea of these two, both terrifying in their own right, kicking an insane amount of ass together. what's scarier than one extremely tall elven swordsman with the light of valinor in his eyes and nothing to lose? two extremely tall elven swordsmen with the light of valinor in their eyes and nothing to lose!

only barely related but i have also. had the temptation to somehow involve morwen in this, because hurin is captured also, but tbh i haven't found a way to justify it, so that stays in the "well, it would be fun but it is entirely unrealistic" realm

Tell us about 'self indulgent nirnaeth au planning'? so what if it's never actually written... those thoughts deserve to be heard!

ahh thank you for asking about this! <3 it's self indulgent passion projects hours!! the basic premise is "fingon gets captured alongside hurin instead of being killed at the nirnaeth." it straddles the line between "fix it" and "break it" in a way that is very fun to me.

the main problem is that my brain is swiss cheese and i'm very very bad at keeping track of timelines and my concept here involves things going majorly off the rails extremely quickly, with turgon immediately going to save his brother gwindor-and-gelmir style, leaving idril as high regent of the noldor (arguably things for gondolin end up playing out a lot better!), intense feanorian drama about loyalty, debts, and common sense, etc etc

i think to write it properly i need to re-read the source material, take a ton of notes, and make a visual storyline for the project on my corkboard like some kind of psycho in a movie (this is how i handle large plots). but i have not had the brain energy for this, yet, so the project is mostly a lot of cool scenes that vaguely string together with many many canon mistakes and an uncertain resolution.

maybe someday!! i have fun with it, at least.

[goldenglorfindel]

If it came to that, could you kill Ecthelion for a greater cause?

“What a horrible question! What in the world would make anyone ask such a thing?” 

He frowned, genuinely puzzled as to why anyone would think to approach him with that, although he soon sighed deeply, knowing after so many years of seeing every kind of person under the sun that some were simply the type to enjoy needling others.

“I can’t think of a possible scenario which would warrant me killing anyone, including Ecthelion, unless they were aiming to kill other innocents themselves and there were no other option. even with orcs and such I don’t kill just for the sake of it.”

[rarepairnation]

5, 8, 12, 15, 33, and 34! <3333

YAYY thank u jamie for all of these <333

5. quote one of your fics out of context

A memory, to an architect, is a prison, a haunting, a noose.

from two shadows burning out a glory day, my bizarre inception/bond crossover fic. its very close to my heart it was kind of my first. idk if i can say non-conventional fic but it kind of is. like conceptually and narratively Weird. something that messes with the reader's head.

8. share the last line that you wrote

oh BOY. im trying to ease back into writing after the wackass week i've had but something seized me and i AM up at 3am picking away at umbar fic. but its time for bed because i have work and also i just thesaurused "retreat." when i start looking up synonyms of VERY simple words its a sign the night is over.

[his father] would give him every honour, and would that not mean he would accord him every accompanying sin?

hehehehe the thorongil-ecthelion-denethor dynamic IS absolutely in the air. its funny because right before this denethor basically curses thorongil out for daring to bring up His Damn Father when they're making out. yeah its pretty insensitive. but it leads him here and from MY perspective the introspection is yummy. don't think of elephants or whatever.

12. what fandom do you want to write for most often

hmm i feel like. my answer is just whatever im? hyperfixating on at the moment? when i get in there i REALLY get in there. but maybe pacific rim. it just lives at a low simmer in the back of my mind at all times but it's also the hardest to bang something quick out for because it is one of, if not THE most emotionally fraught for me to deal with. its just. well its a lot of grief. and also a lot of times my style becomes very um. Particular. because of my personal headcanons about how drifting fucks with your head and how that kind of comes across in the prose. and i gotta be in the right headspace for All That.

15. what fic of yours would you most like to rewrite

honestly i'm not sure if? any of them? i saw a quotation once about only having been able to write certain things at certain points in your life and i really believe that. current me could not produce a lot of my old stuff at all. there's small parts of many things i might change but not complete rewrites, and i also want to preserve them in their posted form for posterity. e.g. there's parts of dreamlike, and yet no dream that i would want to tweak to match my current Denethor And Faramir complexities (it's missing a Little of the nuance. and the terrible pity that i think faramir ends up feeling for his father) but i would NOT want to completely rewrite it. i'm scrolling through my ao3 and like. yeah. and i do think that after maybe 2020 it really begins to stand the test of time and most of my prior stuff i don't have a strong enough attachment to really want to rework. i leave it up entirely for archival purposes.

33. which of your fic titles is your favourite?

i really like five year plan for the afternoon. i honestly really like most of my titles i’ve probably mentioned i think really hard when im choosing them and i hope it shows in the match between the title and the energy/themes of the fic. but i DID create this one from my own mind (rare) and i feel like it really gave the energy of like. having the future you never thought you would have because you've spent your whole life fighting an impossible fight thinking you would die trying...and getting to not have to have a plan for the future not because you think you won't have one but because you just have all the time in the world.......wow.

35. have you ever written a fic because you were inspired by a title?

hmm. not really. i do have some inspired-by-songs ones (talked about those here) that eventually ended up with corresponding lyric titles but it doesn't really work the reverse way. i mostly will hear a lyric and create a Scenario rather than a title

fic writer asks

[deadqueernoldor]

Honestly just craving 4th age fluff with Tinwe and everyone right now.

We've one scenario we want for 4th age fic in any case, and its not a reunion thing so here's a little fluff scenario we've already planned but not properly written under the cut! (No problem spoilering that bc it doesnt really connect to anything else lol)

So, at some point tinwe goes to whatever city turgon and Finrod built together bc that's where ecthelion lives, still Lord of the Fountain.

Anyway, in our AU glorfindel already hs a son, right? But we're saying he's having another baby (which is hilarious given there's an age gap of like 7000 years between the siblings now).

Tinwe cant bring herself to live in the city permanently (yet) so she's just visiting and usually stays around Ecthelion's house and closeby areas.

One evening shes painting and glorfindel's baby escapes their minder while everyone is at some celebration or whatnot, and bc the house of the golden flower and house of the fountain are next to each other, the baby and its stuffie end up with tinwe.

It's late, she waited like an hour and nobody is coming to pick up the child (the minder is going apeshit but is confining only to house of Golden flower bc this is also the first time baby is climbing down stairs and they didnt know)

Anyway, tinwe knows its glorfindel's baby, so she just picks up the baby and brings them to ectheljon's house and makes them dinner and helps them wash their feet and hands (dirty baby running all barefoot heeh)

They end up in the same bed, and they quietly play with their respective stuffies like those are friends on an adventure

By the time glorfindel is back from the celebration with everyone else, the minder has combed the entire HoGF top to bottom twice, they figure maybe they found a way down the stairs.

They search the HoF and find tinwe and the baby asleep, both clutching their stuffies and leftover dinner still in the kitchen and a hand-written message on the table abt how "baby found tinwe and-" stopped by a smudge in child hand form hehe

[lordofthegoldenflower]

😉💦

😉 What are my muse’s fetishes/kinks? : Fin absolutely loves to be restrained (tied up, handcuffed, etc), and for his partner to have complete control. Even the mere thought of it makes him hard.

💦 At what age did my muse lose their virginity? : In the modern verse he lost his virginity at 18. In the main verse it was after he had reached majority. (Fun fact: I’ve never pinned down exactly when in the main verse because I’ve never been asked before. The mun’s favorite scenario is that he pines after Ecthelion for years until they finally have sex as lords of Gondolin)

[glorfindel-of-imladris]

Two names- Erestor and Ecthelion!

Erestor. Please I Uh, let us just go with Ecthelion, because there are less chances for heartbreak me to be yelled at and hit by wayward objects in that scenario.