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shirefantasies · 9 months ago

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Hello!

I don’t know if your matchup requests are still open and if not you can totally ignore this, but I was wondering if I could get a Lotr/The Hobbit matchup (preferably male).

A bit about myself:

Female / 5’7 / eneagram 6 / Gemini

My top two love languages are quality time and acts of service.

In my spare time, I love to read and write. It is a great passion of mine, and I hope to make something of it one day. Sometimes I journal as well.

I love to be outside in nature because it allows me to unwind after a long day. I also really like going on walks while listening to music in the mornings.

I do have a horrible habit of getting so wound up in projects that I forget to rest both mentally and physically. Taking care of mental health has been the primary struggle, but I have gotten better at it over time.

I prefer to be kind to all I meet, but sometimes my desire for justice gets in the way.

I also really like watching people do an activity. Sitting in silence watching someone else do something they’re passionate about is very healing and cozy for me.

My personal aesthetic can be described as vintage-inspired; think long skirts and blouses. I love brighter colors such as pink and lavender, but I don’t mind darker tones on occasion, especially when the season calls for it.

Some other things that I like are sunsets/sunrises, animals of any kind, warm beverages like coffee or tea, a clean space, collecting gemstones, candlelight, and soft blankets.

Things I dislike are bugs, getting rained on (I love the rain, don’t get me wrong, but the sensory experience of having rain fall on me is not ideal), large changes in plans, people talking too loudly, and just rude people in general.

Again, if your requests for matchups are not open, feel free to ignore this, but I thank you for taking the time to read this.

Have a wonderful/blessed day,

-Finn

Heck yeah! I opened them indefinitely since I wasn’t overwhelmed with them :))) your Middle-Earthly match is…

Our Boy Lindir :)

Returning to Rivendell on errand from Elrond, you are met with one of his most trusted confidants, another finely dressed brunette elf who greets you with a smile. “I wasn’t warned of any visitors,” he jokes, giving you a charming look, “who might you be?” “Finn, they call me,” you dismount and curtsy as your horse is taken away, “and I come for an exchange with Lord Elrond, if you please. If he is on business, I can-” “Stay, please,” the elf bids you with a sweep of his hand, “we hardly call ourselves the last homely house for nothing. If you can wait until after supper our lord shall be happy to make your audience.”

Easily you can, thus you are granted a room and a meal with the elves, where you are sat with none other than Elrond himself. Lindir, the elf who had greeted you, stands at his side, and you smile at him. Clear as it is that he is not partaking in the meal, you find yourself drawing him into the conversation once the discussion of your craft ends. The…servant perhaps? appears surprised to learn you are a collector and dealer of gemstones. “Don’t worry,” you tease him, “I don’t mine them myself too.” Supper goes well, your deal with Elrond for the gemstones he needed happily closed and yourself quite charmed, both by the fact Rivendell’s lord is making jewelry for his distant wife and by the gracious hosting of his servant.

Offering to walk you back to your room under claim of his home being quite the labyrinth, you ask Lindir how he finds his duties and what the most difficult part is. Simply put? Rude patrons. Your own distaste for the impertinent gets the better of you, and soon the pair of you are swapping stories outside your door. Laughing far louder than you’d have thought allowed in the great ornate settlement. Soon darkness overtakes the hall, however, and pressing a kiss to your hand, Lindir bids you a good night. It hardly escapes your notice the look of scandal across his own face, but in your kindness you choose not to address it.

Sunrise over the Valley of Imladris is one of the most majestic sights to ever pleasure your eyes; sipping the warm cup of tea another early riser shared with you, you glance beyond the spill of golden light to see Lindir making his way to set a harp near the tables. “Getting the players ready this early?” Shaking his head, he confesses the sunrise inspires him, inspires him so that he enjoys rising with the sun to compose songs. Lightning up, you carry your teacup over his way and share your own love of composition. Soon even the gorgeous sunrise fades as you are lost in song, melody overtaking your ears as Lindir sings a poem you’d penned on your travels. His passion is nearly palpable, flooding your heart with comfort and joy and all the same warmth of your invigorating tea. Passage of time utterly forgotten, your musical moment is only interrupted by Lord Elrond’s entrance and passing, quite amused, comment that you two are quite an unexpected gift, are you not?

Heat rushing to your face, you excuse yourself to attend to your jewelry-making. Once again, minutes or hours may have passed when a knock sounds at the door of your lent workspace. Stretching and wincing at the unpleasant pop, you stride across the room on shaky legs to open the door. Lindir! “I…I apologize, Finn, but we were rather concerned when we were told you hadn’t emerged again.” Raising the tray in his hands, one lain with a light meal and drink, he smiles. “We appreciate your work for Lady Celebrían, but please don’t forget to take care of yourself, too.” You could have kissed him then and there, but you waited a week until your departure, goodbye making the taste of his soft lips that much more bittersweet.

More and more frequently do your journeys take you back to Rivendell until the day comes that Lord Elrond himself appoints you his craftswoman…and winks as he inquires that you have more than just a home to return to now, do you not? He knows the trials of love between elves and mortals just as well as he knows it is a choice made freely.

Lindir honors that choice day after day, always appearing as if with prescience that you’ve thrown yourself into your work again. Sometimes you slip into sleep there in your space, awakening with your favorite blanket draped over your hunched form and a cheeky note inviting you for a morning stroll when you’re up for it.

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