#gil-galad x reader

[morganas-pendragons]

To be Held | Gil-Galad

Summary: You are Gil-Galad's most trusted warrior. With the centuries of history between you two - and the multiple wars you have both survived before and during his rule - it is hard for you to ignore the obvious: You are his complement, his other half, the shield to his sword. You two work as a unit. Everyone in Lindon knows it.

So what happens when he comes close to losing half of that unit?

Set during S2 of ROP - loosely AU to episode 8 (we don't go into the courtyards of Eregion)

tag: @wild-typo-turtle @celebrimbormylove @pentaghasm

You are one of the earliest memories of his younger years as an ellon. The years where he'd been living in the Grey Havens under the watchful eye of the Shipmaster, a young Elf named Artanaro who had nothing left but himself and the clothes on his back.

You had become a soldier at a very early age, taking to the spear with a gracefulness and poise unlike any of your other comrades who served alongside you in the war. You were raised in the heat of battle. Armor was your skin. Your weapon, your hands.

He admired you deeply. Your training commander at the time had noticed that the two of you were the only ones to take to the spear, and so it came to pass that you were often paired together for spars.

For sparring, for the front, for training. The other Elves whispered about you and how formidable you were as a unit the fields of war.

“What will you call yours?”

You watched him turn the weapon over in his hands. Once, twice, three times, long fingers flexing as it spun for him to properly admire the craftsmanship of the spear that had just been granted to him.

“Aeglos,” The Elvish word rolled off his tongue with an awe that made you shiver. You knew as well as he did that he would be known for being Aeglo’s wielder, among what other accomplishments he took to throughout his years. “It has a number of meanings, Mellon. For this one, however, I think snow thorn is more than appropriate.”

It fits him.

You averted your gaze away from him, desperate to keep your composure as you peered down at the spear in your own hands. He had such a deeply penetrating gaze. That unnerved you. You had to be unflappable. Something such as affection or love could not dare to make you weak.

You would not risk weakness on the field. You would not risk having something to lose.

“I think I have its name,” You announced. “I’ll call it Telmnar.”

Ereinion tilted his head curiously. He was not familiar with that term. “And what does that translate to?”

“Fire of Heaven.”

As the years passed, you took to chaos and disorder. Ereinion Gil-Galad took to the art of ruling much, much later in life with a firm hand and a soft heart. He never lost his spirit. Neither did you.

On the field, the pair of you were a force to be reckoned with. One unit. That’s what Elrond had said the first time he’d seen the two of you fight in the sparring yards of Lindon.

Gil-Galad just hadn’t expected the paralyzing fear that came with nearly losing the other half of your unit.

He sees you fall from across the battlefield. There are so few of you left, so many Elven bodies that litter the grounds of a scorched battlefield that Gil-Galad is sure will be their ruin. Elrond is catatonic over the Dwarvish army. You are fueled by your fury, helm hiding the fire he knows lights your eyes as you spin Telmnar with all the grace of poise of a practiced soldier.

Despite the destruction, you are the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. That is why Ereinion is so shaken when he sees the blade pierce your side through the gaps in your armor. A roar echoes across the battlefield as you twist your body to dismember the offending orc, Telmnar faltering in your grasp as it impales the body at the same time you fall to the earth.

Everything seems to blur together after that. Elrond is the one to rush toward you once clarity reaches him once again, removing the chest piece of your armor to better ascertain the severity of your injuries.

"Ereinion," You whisper. "Tell Ereinion..."

Telmnar gleams out of the corner of your eye as a hand reaches down to remove the spear from the body before laying it down beside Aeglos. They really are beautiful blades: A perfect pair for the best unit that the Elven armies had ever seen.

“Tell him what?” Elrond asks. He wants to keep you awake for as long as possible before blood loss sends you into unconsciousness.

Tears prick the back of your eyes. You’ve spent centuries trying so hard to keep your weaknesses out of harms way, to bury that secret you have kept of growing affections for Gil-Galad so he too would not come to be a name among the list of those you’ve loved and lost.

“He was never my weakness,” You whisper. “He was always my strength.”

"We may have lost many today, sweet friend," Elrond's voice is the only thing keeping you awake as he works to staunch the flow of blood from your body. "But you will not be among them."

You think of Gil-Galad, of Celebrimbor and Arondir, of Galadriel. They will not be able to take Adar on their own. They will need all the men they can muster.

Your innate desire to protect those you love is what coaxes you to move amid Elrond's healing, but not before a firm hand presses you back down into the ground and cradles your head in its embrace. Your eyes slowly shift across the open expanse of sky above you until your gaze falls on the dark eyes of the High King of the Noldor.

“Don’t move.” He commands, firm but soft as his fingers flex around your shoulder. “We will work diligently. Rest.”

Relief washes over you as you raise your fingers to graze his cheek. All you can see is blood and dirt, none of that smooth pale skin you’ve grown so accustomed to over the years.

He’s murmuring something low in Quenya as his hand comes upon your wound, and your eyes roll back into your head as Gil-Galad’s healing begins to seal what damage has been done. Elrond stands beside in waiting for the administration of bandages and salves so it will heal well.

The fingers of his free hand card through your hair as you fall unconscious in Gil-Galad’s capable hands.

***

When you first wake, there is a song on the wind. You’re being carried on a stretcher through what appears to be a path through a valley with elves on either side of you.

Panic rushes through your body until you recognize the voice that the wind carries. Gil-Galad has known since you were young that music was one of your only means of coping as it often brought you such serenity. Especially if the music came from him, his lips, his soul.

“Be well, my friend.” It is Camnir’s voice you hear closest to you instead as his face comes into view at your feet. Why the cartographer is here, you remain unsure, but your exhaustion is softened by the sight of his young face. “The High King is nearby. You are safe. I will wake you once we arrive at our destination.”

Your windpipe feels as if it has been pressed upon and your mouth forced open to swallow handfuls of sand. Despite that discomfort, you swallow and ask, “Is he safe?”

Camnir nods. “Indeed. Be peaceful. We are nearly there.”

You fall asleep once again with Aeglos and Telmnar on your mind.

***

There is warmth the next time you wake.

You’re careful not to aggravate your wound as you slowly shift your weight and rub your hands over your eyes to adjust to the dim light of the tent. Night has fallen, as you can tell from the shadows outside, but you did not expect to find The High King fast asleep with his hand gently laying on top of yours.

You smile. Not many are privileged to see him like this. It reminds you of your younger years, when you and Ereinion were just getting to know one another during your time in the Grey Havens. The pair of you had been far more curious than Círdan had cared for. The Shipwright had never complained. He simply remained grateful that someone cared as much for his charge as you did.

Gil-Galad shifts as you slowly kick your legs off the cot and reach outward to card your fingers through his hair. “Ereinion,” You whisper. Dark eyes flutter open and widen as he realizes you are awake, and it takes all of his willpower not to ask you a million questions as you hold a hand up to silence him. “Are you okay?”

The crease between his brow deepens as you run your thumb along his jaw.

“I believe it should be me asking you that,” He replies quietly. “You gave me quite a scare. I do not think I have experienced fear such as that watching you fall since we were young.”

Your earnest expression crumples almost instantly. “Gil-Galad-“

“You told Elrond to tell me something,” Now fully awake, the High King of the Noldor shifts his seat so that he’s planted directly in front of you, hands hovering over your thighs as he settles into the natural part of your legs. “What was it?”

Your mind shifts back to the early days. The days before the wars had ruined you, had cost the lives of so many people you loved, when it was just you and Ereinion against the forces of darkness and those who tried to tear you down.

The perfect unit, they’d called you.

Ereinion holds his breath as your hand, shaking as it may be, extends towards him to cup his face. “Do you remember all those years ago when I told you that the likelihood of me taking a partner was slim because I was not willing to have a weakness that could distract me on the battlefield?” You ask. He nods, transfixed by your face as your fingers gently trace the line of his jaw. “I’ve had one for centuries now. I have just never breathed a word about it.”

Hope flickers behind those dark eyes. “Do not utter that which you do not wish to come to fruition, nin meld.”

“Why?”

You dip your head down, fingers tangling in dark hair as he tips his head up to hover mere inches above your mouth. Your heart pounds with anticipation as you both waver against the line that was drawn centuries ago: the line that will forever change the two of you once you dare to take that risk.

“Because once you do, you can’t take it back.” Gil-Galad utters so softly you almost don’t hear it.

“I could not take back my affections for you. I would not dare. You’ve had my heart since Círdan introduced us. You are my weakness… and you are my strength, my hope-“

His kiss is bruising as he closes the gap between the two of you, surging upward to stand to his feet and cup your face in his hands. He is so much taller than you that you have to crane your neck to properly kiss him, but you don’t think you could ever quite tire of the fire behind which he kisses you.

“You are my salvation from this wretched life,” Ereinion whispers, relishing in the sweet sound of your whimper as he holds you there, helpless to do nothing but allow his mouth to trail across your jaw and down your neck. He is mindful to not aggravate your injury further lest Elrond have his hide for doing so. “And so I take that weakness willingly if it means I have the privilege to love you all my days.”

You smile sweetly at him and nod as his trail ends at your forehead before you part.

“You’re tired.” You point to the cot beside you that’s open. “Bring that over here.”

“I have to attend to duties elsewhere-“

You give him a pointed look. “Cleaning Aeglos and Telmnar can wait. There’s so many of us injured, and you cannot attend to your duties without having a few hours of sleep. You cannot function.”

He hesitates before acquiescing to your demand. Galadriel is being tended to by Elrond, Arondir is coordinating patrols, and the rest of Eregion’s survivors are taken care of at least for the night. He will sleep much more peacefully - and hopefully avoid nightmares about Celebrimbor - being able to feel your breathing under his fingers.

“Very well.”

When Elrond comes looking for his King, he is not surprised to find him with you, but he is surprised to find that Gil-Galad has indeed fallen asleep in the cot beside yours. You are sitting up in your own cot drinking the mint tea provided by the healers with a smug expression on your face as you meet his eyes.

Your other hand loosely cards through Ereinions hair as he moves himself closer to your leg, forehead pressed against your knee in sleep.

“Should I ask?” Elrond queries, laughing quietly under his breath as you playfully narrow your eyes.

“Keep walking, Peredhel. Nothing to see here.”

He will allow his King that respite for tonight. He deserves the comfort of being held by someone he loves.

[elronds-meleth-nin]

Healing Hands

This is just a short little fic, based on this post here. The tall, broad High-King demanded a drabble aside from the ones I'd already started about him, so what else could I do? He is the High King, after all. 🥰👑

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Gil-Galad (RoP) x Half-Elven!Reader

[A/N: This is just fluff.]

Warnings: Spoilers for RoP s2e8, non-graphic descriptions of injuries, mentions of blood, soft!Gil-Galad, affectionate teasing, romantic tension, healing injuries, Gil speaking Quenya, battle aftermath, minor angst with a happy ending.

~*~

Did she truly think she was being subtle with such a limp in her step? The High King and his Herald had led their soldiers and the survivors of Eregion into a valley, establishing around it a protective, magical barrier using the rings of power.

Together, the pair had healed Lady Galadriel, but as they settled her in a soft, flat spot to recover, Gil-Galad saw his lady, clad in her own black-splattered armor, attempting to limp away unnoticed.

"Go. I'll stay with Galadriel," Elrond volunteered quietly, and with a grateful nod of acknowledgement, the King hurried through the trees after her. He hadn't even remembered seeing her struck, but obviously she had been if she was limping.

She didn't get very far. At the edge of a small clearing, he found her sitting with her back against a tree, struggling to remain conscious. His breath caught when he saw how pale she'd become. She'd clearly been hiding this for quite some time.

Without a thought beyond healing his lady, Gil-Galad dropped to his knees beside her and began slicing a window into the leg of her trousers. The cloth parted easily at the behest of his dagger, and at the waft of cool air over her skin, her eyes fluttered open.

"Ereinion?" Her voice was so shaky and quiet. "I'm sorry. Didn't...want to bother you..."

"Hush, I am here, now," he murmured as he beheld the broken-off shaft of an arrow embedded in her leg. She'd lost quite a bit of blood if the dark, drenched fabric of her trousers was any indication. Thankfully, the arrow was not lodged too deeply, and she'd left enough of it exposed for a healer to grip in order to remove it. "Fool of a girl, you should have come straight to me."

She let out a weak laugh at his affectionate scolding.

"Calling your favorite patient a fool? Ondórëa ingaranya," she murmured cupping his cheek and drawing his eyes to her own. There was no real acidity in her tone. Gil-Galad took courage in the fact that she still had enough clarity of mind to tease him. He had, in fact, healed her before, but the injuries were always insignificant and superficial. And, she'd never actively hidden them from him before.

What cause had he given her to do so? Had she been embarrassed?

Without hesitation, he turned his head just far enough to kiss her palm.

"I humbly beg your forgiveness, meldanya." He hoped that she knew he referred to more than his playful jab. He also knew that to call her such, to allow such a slip, would be tantamount to a confession for which he was not certain that he was prepared. But, to call her anything less than his beloved would be a lie. Furthermore, to do so in the aftermath of such rampant death and destruction would summon within his heart guilt in such quantities that he could not abide.

Turning his attention back to her leg, he laid his palm as lightly as he could over her thigh. He whispered in Quenya, allowing the magic from his ring and from his own healing abilities to seep into her skin and numb her pain. Working quickly, he removed the arrowhead and pressed his hand over the wound, murmuring some of the same healing spells he and Elrond had used on Galadriel.

Fortunately, though, this was not a cursed wound as the former had sustained from Morgoth's crown, nor was it as severe. Her skin glowed readily beneath his touch. Within moments, the skin bound itself shut and his lady shuddered in relief as a trickle of light penetrated the canopy of trees overhead to mingle with their own.

Her hand had fallen limply away after mere moments, but Gil-Galad retrieved it once his work was complete, grasping it gently between his own blood-stained fingers. Her pulse beat steady and strong in his grasp, and his eyelids fluttered shut as he breathed a sigh of relief. She would be alright. She had survived.

"Did you mean it?" She breathed, and he was so surprised that she was conscious that his eyes snapped immediately to hers. Despite the dirt and grime coating them both, he felt entirely exposed beneath her gaze - vulnerable and transparent before her.

He relished the sensation of being known so completely. To everyone else, he was Gil-Galad, the High King of Lindon, the bastion of strength from which his people drew their courage when darkness threatened.

To her, he was simply Ereinion. The feeling was more pleasant and intoxicating than he could possibly express.

"You called me your beloved," she continued. "Did you mean it?"

How could he deny it? He loved her. He had for centuries. Since the moment she set foot in Lindon nearly three hundred years before, Gil-Galad had surrendered to the realization that his heart would settle for no other. Her light was beyond compare, shining into even the most uncertain parts of his heart which he hid from all others. She drew him out so easily, comforted him simply by smiling in his direction. She was his strength, his courage, his most luxuriant pleasure and joy.

But, he was a king. Because she knew him, she also knew better than any other how taxing his position was. Over time, he'd convinced himself that she would not wish to bear the burden of ruling by his side, so he'd remained silent - reluctant to steal her own contentment and joy by forcing the responsibilities of a ruler upon her. She deserved to have a life unburdened by the weight of a crown.

In his secrecy, however, his heart had grown accustomed to a more profound loneliness than he'd ever previously known. On too-silent nights in his chambers, he longed to hold her close and whisper poetry in her ear - he'd composed more verses in her honor than he'd expected his heart to harbor. On tranquil mornings before the rush of the day's duties began, he ached with the need to see her curled peacefully in his arms as the light of the sunrise spilled in through the windows.

No longer. After today's battle, Ereinion could no more hold his tongue than the pair of robins who sang so freely in his gardens each morning.

"Yes. With all of my foolish heart, I meant it," he admitted, his heart singing with every word, and she lifted her free hand, threading it lightly into his hair. The King savored the feeling. Never before had she touched him so brazenly - he'd made it clear that she was more than welcome to, of course, but she never availed herself of such liberties.

He bent lower, hoping to encourage her by making his person easier to reach. He felt her bare wrist brush against the tip of his ear - sharper than her own, thanks to her half-mortal parentage - but he could not hide his blush nor the light groan she tugged from his chest.

"You have tempted me...enchanted me since our first meeting. I have eyes only for you, but if you do not feel the same, I swear on my honor that I will not torment you further." The King's oath came from the most sincere depths of his heart. For her, he would. Much as it would pain him, if she wanted nothing to do with his feelings, he would bury them deep so that only he would feel the ache. She would suffer no discomfort at his hands.

Her lips met his, stopping his spiraling thoughts in their tracks, and all his worries fell away beneath the most delicious relief. They were as soft and sumptuous as they looked - as he'd imagined them to be - and Ereinion didn't hesitate to return her affection. He may have healed her leg, but with that once simple act, she had healed the King's heart.

~*~*~

Elvish Words (Quenya):

ondórëa ingaranya = my hard-hearted/pitiless high-king

meldanya = my beloved

~*~

Taglist:

@bigblissandlove1 @gandalfthepimp @horta-in-charge

[lady-raidia]

May I request some fluffy headcanons for dating Gil-Galad?

Of course, my love! :) And I know it has been ages since I posted anything and I am truly sorry for that!😭 I still hope that you like the headcanons even though I've got a bit carried away. (hopefully I did not miss the dating part). Please enjoy! 💕✨

⭐️ GIL-GALAD DATING HEADCANONS ⭐️

he is a serious man who always keeps his composure

he is also serious when it comes to love

the moment he laid his eyes upon you, he was in love

he is so in tune with himself that he instantly realises what he is feeling for you but doesn’t want to force himself upon you

slowly over time, he made sure that you felt the same way

In the beginning, it was little gestures that gave away his feelings: complimenting your skills, brushing a strand of hair from your face, the little space he left between you both when he talked to you

then, when he made very clear how he felt about you his behaviour around you changed

instead of little touches and words that you could barely hear, he became more openly affectionate with you

of course, he had to maintain his authority as a king and didn’t want to come across as a lovestruck young elf, but in the private moments without prying eyes on you, he shows you how much he adores you

he is showering you with words that are filled with pure love, a love that was rarely seen in Middle-Earth

his love is eternal and every day that you wake up together he reminds you that his heart only belongs to you

he will write little poems to you, as a reminder for you that you are truly loved

he loves to hold you tightly, your face pressed against his chest

loves to give you forehead kisses but what he loves more are the kisses you give him; may it be on the lips, cheeks or forehead - when your lips are touching his skin, he feels the burden that was placed upon him, melting away

for you and only for you he created a little garden filled with flowers that reminded him of you

will call you “my little flower” “my heart” or “my moonlight”

he loves to watch you when you read because in moments when you are completely lost in thoughts, your beauty shines the most

when he has a bad day he wants to hear your voice so badly because only the sound of it will soothe his mind and will bring peace to his soul

will kiss the ground you walk on as if you are a living goddess

[sun-snatcher]

The Queen of Lindon is a fell beast when it is demanded; But the hour for that call has come to pass now, and your grip on the hilt of your sword has finally yielded.

Fanart for my Gil-Galad fic because why not?

— Read it here! AO3 | Tumblr

[emmyspov]

A Lifetime (Gil-Galad x reader)

Summary: It seemed like it was forgotten in the lore that there were not only Elrond and Elros, but also a third sibling: you. Before Elrond became the High King’s Herald, you had already chosen your fate. Like your younger brother, you would live as an elf, serving the High King and getting a bit closer with him than imagined. Set in the time of the second season of Rings of Power.

author’s note: it’s been a looong time since i actually wrote something, so excuse this crusty-rusty excuse of work, but i just had to write something before i start my job tomorrow, especially after seeing the interview in which benjamin walker stated that he wants Gil-Galad to be kissed! i used “meldanya” for my beloved in the story - and tried my best to keep it gender-neutral :)

warnings: mentions of war and terrible times and kissing? that should be it, if not, let me know <3

word count: 743

edit is mine, all pics are from pinterest :)

You bowed as you entered Gil-Galad’s chambers: “How may I assist you today, High King?”

Ever since Elrond had been appointed Commander to lead an army to Eregion, you had found yourself almost constantly in the king’s presence, helping him not only with his speeches and council planning, but also your regular tasks. You, personally, were responsible for his well-being, ensuring he ate and drank regularly, selecting his garments for each day, and – over time – also keeping him informed on Lindon’s gossip. It led to you two being… closer with each other than expected. Which in return made the king ask for your presence in the evenings as well.

He never told you, but with the growing shadow over Middle Earth, you were the only one who could put his mind at ease. Especially when you brushed his hair – you were far gentler than any of his maids – and made him smile like no one else could.

He shook his head at your bow. How many times had he told you that you had long surpassed such formalities? With a sigh, he finally spoke, “I’ve made the decision to ride to Eregion.”

Your head shot up. “High King-“

He interrupted you, dark eyes staring into your own. “A king’s place is wherever the need is greatest.”

“You are needed here. What am I supposed to do if something happens to you?”

Yes, one could say you were worried about High King Gil-Galad, but not for the reason others might assume. Sure, he was the King of all Elves in Middle Earth, but now seemed to be the moment to admit to yourself that he had also become the king of your heart.

He smiled sadly. “Let us not part with such dark thoughts in our minds. Please, help me gather my armor and whatever else I might need for this journey.”

What was needed on a journey like the one he was about to embark on? A journey he might never return from. No. No, you couldn’t think like this. So, you did what he asked. You helped him gather his clothes and armor which made him look even more majestic and beautiful, made your way to the stables to check on his horse and even sneaked into the kitchens to provide him with his favorite treat.

The whole time, your mind was racing. Could you tell him how you felt? What exactly were you feeling? All you knew was that you were happiest when you were with him. He challenged you mentally and, at the same time, brought you a sense of peace. You longed for him whenever he was away. Yes, you were infatuated with the High King Gil-Galad.  

Which made your parting even harder. You knew that you couldn’t burden him with your feelings – not now, when everything seemed to be on the brink of darkness once more. You watched him as he spoke with his soldiers before he made his way over to you.

“It is time”, he said, taking your hand. “I truly wish you could accompany me on this ride, but I’d rather know you are safe here. Will you wait for my return?”

You couldn’t help your smile. “I’d wait a lifetime.”

“That’s quite a long time, meldanya.”

You nodded and took a step closer, placing your hand on his cheek. “For you, it’s worth it.”

You were so close. You could smell him, feel his warmth even through the suit of armor. “I think, I would really like to kiss you, High-King. May I?”

He stared at you with an open mouth, nodding slowly. He would have never though that you from all beings would feel the same for him. His thoughts scattered when your lips came in contact with his. Oh Eru, they were warm. And so soft.

Before he could process it further, you took a step back. You didn’t want to overwhelm him. But apparently, the High-King had other plans and pulled you close again, capturing your lips in another kiss. He could taste the sweetness of berries as his tongue swept over your bottom lip and and you cupped his face with both hands.

The whole world seemed to stop as you were standing at the gates of Lindon, engulfed in each other’s presence. The king was breathing hard when you finally pulled apart: “Wait for me. Please.”

You only nodded, tears forming in your eyes. You’d wait a lifetime.

[earthlybeam]

hewwoo~ long time enjoyer here! very excited to see someone writes for celeborn. I just love that malewife elf <3

could you do a cheeky/snarky!reader flirting with celeborn, gil-galad and thranduil please? these are my top 3 elves rn and your writing is soooo dreamy :3

how would the elves react to this?

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Celeborn, Gil-galad, thranduil Versions are below. They are two versions of each.

🩵𝓒𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓫𝓸𝓻𝓷

First one

𖣂 The tranquil beauty of Lothlórien surrounds you, the golden light of the mellyrn trees filtering softly through their shimmering leaves. The ethereal air of the Golden Wood feels almost otherworldly, a quiet calm that speaks of the millennia of wisdom and magic that have shaped this realm. In the center of it all stands Celeborn, a vision of elven grace and nobility. His silver hair glows faintly in the dappled light, his piercing eyes reflecting a serene yet sharp intelligence. He exudes a quiet dignity, a presence that commands respect without arrogance. You approach him, feeling a flutter of nerves—after all, it’s not every day you stand before the Lord of Lothlórien. But instead of bowing in formality, you decide to take a different approach, a playful glint in your eye. You mocking awe “So this is the great Lord of Lothlórien. Wise, graceful… and probably the reason half the elves here are swooning. Is there a waiting list to get your attention, or do I have to bribe someone?”

𖣂 For a moment, Celeborn’s serene expression doesn’t change, and you wonder if your playful tone has fallen flat. Then, his lips curl ever so slightly into a small, amused smile. His gaze meets yours, steady and unflinching, but with a hint of curiosity. Celeborn slightly amused. “You seem resourceful. I imagine you’d find a way without resorting to bribery.” His voice is smooth and measured, carrying a subtle warmth beneath its calm surface. He tilts his head ever so slightly, as if studying you, his amusement flickering like a spark behind his eyes.

𖣂 You take his response as an invitation to continue the playful banter, stepping closer and lowering your voice conspiratorially. You grinning “Oh, I don’t need to bribe anyone. I’ll just charm you into skipping the line.” A soft chuckle escapes him, rare and quiet, but genuine. He regards you for a moment longer, the faintest trace of a smirk lingering on his face. His demeanor remains composed, but there’s an undeniable twinkle of amusement in his eyes. “Charm, is it? A bold strategy, but one that requires confidence… and no small amount of skill. I suppose you believe yourself well-qualified?”

𖣂 You feign offense, placing a hand dramatically over your heart. You mock indignation. “Well-qualified? My lord, you wound me. I’ll have you know my charm has been praised by elves, men, and hobbits alike. But if you doubt me, perhaps I should prove it?” The slight upward twitch of his eyebrow tells you he’s enjoying this far more than he’s letting on. His voice lowers, adopting a playful edge that’s rare for someone so reserved. “Prove it? A dangerous proposition. If I find your proof lacking, I may be forced to remain unimpressed.”

𖣂 The challenge in his words is subtle, but it’s there, hidden beneath layers of calm composure. His tone is light, but his gaze holds yours, unyielding yet inviting. You leaning in slightly. “Then I’ll just have to ensure my proof is flawless. Though, if I may say so, my lord, you don’t seem the type who is easily unimpressed.” For a fleeting moment, Celeborn seems to weigh your words, his expression unreadable. Then, his lips curve into a small, genuine smile—a rare and dazzling sight that takes you by surprise. “Perhaps I am not. But you certainly have a… unique approach. Let us see if your charm is as formidable as you claim.” There’s a softness in his voice now, almost teasing but still restrained, as though he’s testing the waters of this exchange. The quiet Lord of Lothlórien, it seems, is not entirely immune to the art of playful flirtation.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Second one

𖣂 The golden light of Lothlórien dances across the delicate leaves of the mellyrn trees, their quiet whispers filling the tranquil air. Celeborn stands at the edge of a silver fountain, his tall figure radiating an air of timeless grace. His silvery hair catches the light, and his calm, thoughtful expression seems almost impenetrable—a mask of serene composure hiding layers of complexity. There’s something undeniably magnetic about him, a mystery you can’t quite resist unraveling. You approach with a playful smile, deciding to push past his reserved demeanor. After all, who can resist a bit of teasing? You playfully, with mock thoughtfulness. “You know, Celeborn, you’re like a riddle wrapped in an enigma… wrapped in very nice robes. Care to unravel yourself for me?”

𖣂 For a moment, he doesn’t respond, his sharp eyes studying you with quiet intensity. Then, the corners of his lips lift in the faintest hint of a smile—a rare gesture from the ever-composed Lord of Lothlórien. His gaze flickers with subtle amusement as he tilts his head slightly. Celeborn calmly, with a touch of humor. ”Perhaps some mysteries are better left unsolved.” His voice, smooth and rich like a stream gliding over polished stones, carries the faintest undertone of mischief. He clasps his hands behind his back, watching you with that infuriatingly composed expression, as if he knows exactly what he’s doing.

𖣂 Not one to back down, you step closer, your smile turning into a confident grin. “Oh, don’t be shy. I’m very good at solving puzzles. Especially handsome ones.” He lets out a soft chuckle, the sound low and rare, like a secret shared in the stillness of the woods. His eyes meet yours, holding your gaze with a quiet intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. For a moment, his hands shift slightly, as if he’s about to reach for the clasps of his robe. Celeborn with a playful glint in his eye. “You’re certain you’re prepared? Unraveling a mystery often leads to more questions than answers.” For a heartbeat, you freeze, caught off guard by the sudden flicker of teasing in his voice. His fingers hover near the clasp of his elegant robes, and you swear there’s a flicker of humor in his otherwise serene expression. Then, just as quickly, he lowers his hands again, his composure fully restored, as though he’s never broken it.

𖣂 Celeborn with a quiet smirk. “But I fear you’ll have to be content with the mystery for now.” Your jaw drops slightly, and he watches your reaction with subtle amusement, clearly pleased with his ability to turn the tables. His serene demeanor may have returned, but there’s a sparkle in his eyes now—a rare glimpse of the playful side hidden beneath his reserved exterior. You laughing, shaking your head. “You’re good, I’ll give you that. But don’t think this means I’m giving up. I’ll unravel you yet, Lord Celeborn.” His gaze softens, his smile lingering just long enough to make your heart flutter before he speaks again “Persistence can be a virtue. Perhaps, in time, you may find the answers you seek. Until then… I shall enjoy watching you try.” With that, he turns, his silver hair catching the light as he walks away with the same composed grace that drives you both intrigued and infuriated. You can’t help but grin to yourself, already planning your next move.

👑𝓖𝓲𝓵-𝓰𝓪𝓵𝓪𝓭

First one

🜲 You leaning casually against one of the smooth marble pillars of Gil-galad’s study, your posture relaxed yet deliberate. A mischievous glint dances in your eyes as you tilt your head slightly, watching him pour over a parchment with that signature air of kingly focus. Your voice cuts through the serene quiet, light and teasing, deliberately challenging the stillness of the room. “Is it exhausting being the High King of the Noldor? All that responsibility, all those admirers…”

🜲 Gil-galad His quill pauses mid-stroke, hovering above the parchment as the corners of his lips twitch ever so slightly. He doesn’t respond right away, instead straightening slowly, his head tilting with an expression that borders on amused curiosity. His sharp blue-gray eyes flick up to meet yours, and for a moment, he studies you as though he’s weighing the best course of action. With quiet deliberation, he sets the quill down and moves the parchment aside. His gaze lingers, his regal composure softening just enough to betray a flicker of playfulness. Finally, his lips curve into a small, knowing smile—a smile that feels rare and deliberate, as though meant just for you. “The burden is lighter than it seems.” You pushing off the pillar, your steps slow and deliberate as you cross the room toward him. The marble floor cool beneath your feet echoes faintly with each step, but your focus is entirely on him. Your voice drops slightly, playful and edged with a hint of challenge, your eyes locked onto his as you draw closer. “Good. Wouldn’t want you too tired to pay attention to me.”

🜲 Gil-galad His smile widens slightly, though it remains subtle, restrained. He’s a king accustomed to holding himself in check, to hiding emotions beneath layers of composure, yet the faint glimmer in his eyes reveals far more than words could. He leans back in his chair with deliberate elegance, folding his hands in his lap as though truly considering your words. For a brief moment, he remains silent, allowing the weight of his gaze to settle on you, his expression one of thoughtful amusement. When he speaks, his voice is low and smooth, steady as always but carrying a faint undercurrent of dry humor. “I fear that might be the greatest burden of all,” he muses, his tone calm yet laced with subtle warmth, “To balance the weight of my duties with the demands of someone as… captivating as you.”

🜲 You laughing softly, the sound light and genuine, unable to resist the warmth blooming in your chest at his carefully chosen words. You feel your cheeks flush despite yourself, though you try to mask it with an exaggeratedly skeptical glance. “So you do pay attention, after all.” Gil-galad His gaze softens, and for a moment, the High King standing before you seems more man than monarch. There’s something deeply personal in the way he watches you now, the faintest trace of warmth lingering behind the carefully composed exterior he so often wears. Rising from his chair, he moves toward you with the measured grace of a ruler, each step deliberate, each movement carrying an unshakable authority. And yet, as he closes the distance between you, there’s a subtle shift in his demeanor—a slight easing of the ever-present weight on his shoulders. He stops just a pace away, his posture relaxed yet still commanding.

🜲 “I could hardly afford not to,” he replies smoothly, his voice quieter now, edged with sincerity. “You have a way of ensuring no one forgets your presence.” You crossing your arms, your lips quirking into a playful smile as you tilt your head, pretending to study him with exaggerated seriousness. Your tone takes on an air of mock suspicion as you raise an eyebrow. “Was that a compliment or an accusation?” Gil-galad A low chuckle escapes him, the sound deep and warm, carrying the kind of richness that feels rare, a private melody meant only for you. His usual stoic mask cracks slightly, replaced by an expression of quiet amusement. He leans in just enough to close the space between you, his voice lowering to a tone reserved only for these rare moments—intimate, yet measured in its affection. “Whichever pleases you more, my heart.” As his words hang in the air, there’s a quiet sincerity beneath the teasing tone, a depth to his gaze that speaks volumes more than he says aloud. His presence, as always, is commanding, but in this moment, it feels as though the weight of his kingship has been set aside, leaving only the man beneath.

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Second one

🜲 You leaning back against the edge of the grand oak desk in Gil-galad’s study, your fingers lightly brushing the polished surface as you fix him with a teasing smile. The golden light of the setting sun filters through the tall arched windows, casting a warm glow over the room. Your tone is light, playful, but edged with a challenge as you let your words hang in the air for a moment. “Do you always get your way, High King? Or is that just with the elves?”

🜲 Gil-galad Seated across the room, his tall frame is poised in his chair, one leg crossed over the other with effortless elegance. He has been reviewing a series of maps and reports, but at your words, he pauses. His sharp blue-gray eyes lift to meet yours, a flicker of amusement dancing in their depths. The faintest trace of a smile tugs at the corner of his lips, one of those rare, restrained smiles that carry far more meaning than they let on. Setting the map aside, he leans back slightly, his hands resting lightly on the armrests of the chair, his tone calm but laced with playful humor. “I like to think my influence speaks for itself.” You pushing off the desk, you take a slow step toward him, your eyes sparkling with mischief. Your voice drops just slightly, a touch more challenging now, as though daring him to rise to the bait. “Mm, I’m not so easily influenced. Care to try your luck?”

🜲 Gil-galad His expression shifts subtly, the amusement in his eyes deepening as his smile widens just a fraction—a small, almost imperceptible gesture, but one that carries a quiet confidence. He remains seated, perfectly composed, though there’s a distinct shift in his demeanor now, an energy that feels both commanding and utterly unhurried. His gaze never wavers from yours, as though he’s assessing you with the same precision he would an opponent on the battlefield. When he speaks, his voice is smooth, steady, and just a little too calm, as though he’s already several moves ahead in the game. “You underestimate me,” he says, his tone light but carrying a faint, teasing edge. “I’ve persuaded kings, warriors, and even dwarves to see things my way. Convincing you, I suspect, will be far more rewarding.”

🜲 You laughing softly, you step closer still, your hands coming to rest lightly on the back of the chair he’s seated in. You lean forward just slightly, close enough now that you can see the fine details of his features—the faint lines of wisdom and wear, the undeniable sharpness of his gaze. Your tone is playful, but there’s a spark of genuine curiosity beneath it as you tilt your head “Rewarding? Now I’m intrigued. What makes me such a challenge, Your Majesty?” Gil-galad For a moment, he allows the silence to linger, his gaze fixed on you with a kind of quiet intensity. His fingers drum lightly against the armrest of his chair before he finally stands, his movements smooth and deliberate. Rising to his full height, he steps closer, closing the distance between you with a measured confidence that feels almost magnetic. His voice lowers slightly, though it remains as composed and calm as ever, the weight of his presence filling the room. “Because you’ve already decided not to make it easy for me,” he says, his tone laced with a warmth that hints at the depth of his amusement. He leans in just enough to meet your gaze directly, the faintest trace of a smirk playing on his lips. “And something tells me you enjoy watching me try.”

🜲 You grinning, your heart skipping a beat at the way his voice dips just enough to send a thrill through you. You lean back slightly, folding your arms as though to regain the upper hand, though the glint in your eyes betrays your delight. “Well, you’re not wrong. But you’ll need to do better than charm if you want to win me over.” Gil-galad Chuckling softly, the sound low and velvety, he straightens, his posture once again effortlessly regal but with a relaxed air that makes him seem a touch more human. His gaze remains steady, filled with that same quiet confidence that somehow manages to disarm you without him needing to say another word. Finally, he tilts his head slightly, his tone light but edged with unmistakable challenge. “Then I’ll just have to prove that my charm isn’t the only weapon in my arsenal.” There’s a moment of tension, warm and playful but charged with the kind of energy that leaves you breathless. As the silence stretches between you, his expression softens just slightly, the teasing fading into something deeper—more genuine. His next words, when they come, are softer, more sincere. “But I think you already know that, don’t you?” Would you like to expand on this dynamic further or explore their growing connection?

🍷𝓣𝓱𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓾𝓲𝓵

First one

𐂂 “Is it a requirement for Woodland Kings to look this good, or are you just an overachiever?” The moment the words leave your lips, Thranduil’s gaze sharpens, his sharp features softening just slightly as his eyes lock onto yours. There’s a quiet intensity in his expression, like a king accustomed to being admired yet intrigued by your boldness. He stands tall and unshakable, draped in the finest silks and delicate leathers that reflect the light of the dim torches around him, his crown—woven from intricate threads of ivy and moonstone—sitting like a regal crown atop his silvery hair. Every inch of him seems to radiate an ethereal, otherworldly charm, and you can feel the weight of his presence even before he speaks. He takes a slow, measured step closer to you, the long folds of his cloak trailing behind him, creating a slight rustle that adds to the tension of the moment. His gaze remains steady and unwavering as he tilts his head slightly to the side, lips curling into a smile that is both knowing and a touch condescending, but with a flicker of something more—amusement, perhaps, or even admiration.

𐂂 “It is my duty to embody the finest qualities of my people,” he replies, his voice as smooth and velvety as the finest elven fabric, laced with a sense of quiet authority. His eyes glint with the centuries of wisdom he carries, as if every word spoken is as deliberate as the actions of a seasoned ruler. The corners of his mouth twitch upward as he watches you, clearly amused by the impish challenge in your tone. His presence fills the space, and the air seems to thrum with an ancient energy, a reminder of the weight of his lineage and the depth of his experience. Yet, his response is not one of arrogance, but of confidence—Thranduil is not a man who feels the need to boast because his actions speak louder than any words ever could. You find your heart skip a beat, even as you try to maintain your composure. Thranduil doesn’t break eye contact as he waits for your next move, and you can tell that he’s enjoying this back-and-forth. “And here I thought your finest quality was making my heart race. My mistake.” The words leave your lips with just a hint of teasing, and the moment they do, Thranduil’s smile deepens, the cool elegance of his demeanor shifting, ever so slightly, into something more playful. His eyes narrow, but it’s not in a way that suggests offense—it’s a look of someone who’s been caught off guard but enjoys the challenge.

𐂂 He takes another step closer, his height making you feel small, but not uncomfortable—more like a willing subject in a game with a ruler who knows all the rules. His voice, when it comes, is low, warm, and rich with amusement. “Your heart races, you say?” His voice is almost a whisper now, a quiet challenge. His gaze flickers down to your lips before returning to your eyes, and for a moment, he seems to enjoy the effect he’s having on you. “I suppose it’s not entirely unexpected. I am, after all, a king. Kings tend to have that effect on those in their presence.” You feel a warmth rise to your cheeks, but you hold his gaze, refusing to show any sign of retreat. Thranduil leans in just slightly, his proximity sending a quiet, almost imperceptible thrill through your body. His hand rests lightly on the back of his throne, the fingers elegant and graceful, a reminder that every movement of his is deliberate, every action measured.

𐂂 “But I wonder,” he continues, his eyes now twinkling with a mix of mischief and intrigue, “how much longer your heart will race, once you realize the full measure of the danger in such words.” It’s a teasing warning, yet you can’t help but feel the pull of his presence—the way his every word seems to carry weight, but still, there’s a softness behind it, a reminder that despite his regal persona, there’s more to him than just the king. There’s a man, a father, a warrior, who’s just as capable of feeling as he is of ruling. He straightens, his posture as dignified as ever, though the smile still lingers on his lips—one that tells you this game is far from over. The flicker of warmth in his eyes betrays that, despite his cool exterior, you’ve captured his attention in a way few others have.

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Second one

𐂂 “You’re so tall and elegant, Thranduil. How do you manage to stay grounded with all that perfection?” Thranduil’s eyebrows arch slightly, and a knowing smirk tugs at the corners of his lips. He leans back in his throne, one arm draped elegantly over the armrest, his fingers idly brushing the stem of a goblet. His piercing, ice-blue eyes sweep over you with the air of someone both amused and intrigued, as though he’s indulging in a game he didn’t expect to find entertaining “I do not concern myself with trivialities,” he replies, his voice smooth as the finest elven wine, laced with a soft, amused edge. There’s a flicker of challenge in his gaze, as though daring you to continue this line of conversation.

𐂂 You take a step closer, emboldened by the faintest twitch of his smirk. The warmth of the dim torchlight flickers against the intricate carvings of the throne room, but nothing compares to the heat that rises to your cheeks under his penetrating gaze. “Oh, I don’t know,” you say, tilting your head and letting your own smirk bloom across your lips. “I think you should concern yourself with me.” For the briefest moment, a flicker of surprise crosses his features, though he recovers quickly, tilting his head ever so slightly to regard you with renewed interest. The playful amusement in his eyes deepens, like sunlight glinting off the sharp edge of a blade. “Should I?” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a lower register, laced with feigned indifference. Yet, the faint curl of his lips betrays his curiosity. “And why, pray tell, should I entertain such… boldness?” His words are clipped, deliberate, but there’s no mistaking the hint of a challenge—an invitation for you to prove yourself worthy of his attention. His gaze is steady, unflinching, and yet you can sense that beneath the stoic façade, you’ve intrigued him in a way he finds both unexpected and irresistible.

𐂂 You draw closer, your confidence unwavering. “Because, my king,” you say, holding his gaze as if you were his equal, “perfection such as yours deserves to be admired by someone who knows how to appreciate it… thoroughly.” For a long moment, there’s silence in the room, save for the faint rustle of the forest beyond the stone walls. His expression is unreadable, save for the faintest narrowing of his eyes, and the flicker of a grin that he doesn’t quite suppress. “It seems,” he says slowly, his voice laced with wry amusement, “that you possess the audacity of a dwarf and the finesse of an elf. A most… peculiar combination.”

𐂂 You laugh softly, undeterred. “I suppose it’s only fitting, my king. One must be bold to catch your attention.” He leans forward slightly in his throne, the golden light catching in the silver strands of his hair and illuminating his face like a carved statue brought to life. The faintest flicker of warmth touches his otherwise icy demeanor as he studies you. “Consider it caught,” he says finally, his voice smooth as silk, though the subtle arch of his brow reminds you that he will not be easily won. “But beware, little mortal. Tread lightly, lest you find yourself entangled in matters far beyond your comprehension.” And yet, the faintest smile plays on his lips, an unspoken promise that he finds the prospect of this game far more entertaining than he cares to admit.

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

Bespoke kisses

Gil-Galad x reader. Modern AU. NSFW!!

*****

You really thought you had made it. 

“I knew you could do it, (name)!” your friend Mirdania comments happily as you both walk out of the door, leaving the large building that houses the Arda Fashion Academy, which you both attend as final year students, behind you. She is prettier than ever in her deep green halter dress -personally designed by her, of course, just like you created your shirt and altered your knee-length skirt so that it better fits your body; nothing more natural, for two budding fashion designers like you are! “That three-piece suit was beautiful, I knew the examination board would appreciate it!”

You smile, sincerely flattered and happy for your recent success, even though, you have to admit, she is the one who should be congratulated, since the mullet dress she created was enthusiastically received by the board, and was awarded the highest marks among the thirty submissions on behalf of as many seniors, and she was the first student selected for the internship. “I bet the designers came to blow for the privilege of having you as an intern.”

“Oh, come on, you’re exaggerating…”

You are -just a little- but it’s hard not to feel overenthusiastic in a moment like this. The internship you and your friend have been selected for is an exceptional opportunity, the sort that happens only once in a person’s life; the Arda, the country’s most prestigious institution in the field of fashion, has established a collaboration with three important designers, each of whom would be be paired with a final year student for a six months collaboration. The selection was to be based, as well as on the hopefuls’ academic records, on the submission of a personal creation: a set of clothing, be it a dress, a suit, a simple trousers-and-shirt combination -someone submitted a bikini paired with a sarong, flip-flops and a beach hat- that a panel of the Arda’s most respected lecturers would judge. 

As expected, most of your fellow seniors applied for the internship, and you and Mirdania were among the three chosen, together with a talented student named Elrond, who you know less well. You really can’t wait to begin: not only a period of employment in a prestigious fashion house will undoubtedly improve your resumé, but you’ll have the chance to see a talented designer at work, and to learn from them; the pay is low and between the internship and the classes you’ll still have to attend you’ll end up sleeping three hours per night, but who cares? Fashion has always been your passion, and while being admitted to the Arda was the first step to fulfilling your ambition of becoming a famous designer, you feel this could be your chance - the chance to find new inspiration for your works and learn on the field, rather than in class. 

And who knows, I would not be the first intern who remains to work for their mentor even after the allotted time… 

“I still can’t believe I am going to meet Celebrimbor, the Celebrimbor, tomorrow.” Mirdania comments as you both walk towards the metro station, which is where you’ll have to part to return home. Your friend has long been an admirer of one of the designers who offered their collaboration to the school, and was ecstatic to learn Celebrimbor had expressly asked for her as an intern, having been favourably impressed by her submission “I swear, I keep pinching myself because I think it might be a dream!”

“You’re not dreaming; and since he has already proven to appreciate your work, I’m sure you’ll enjoy working for him.”

“I think so too. What about you? Looking forward to putting a face to Gil-Galad’s name?”

You have to admit you are more than a little curious. Unlike Celebrimbor and Cirdan, the designer Elrond will intern for, your allotted mentor, Gil-Galad, is a mysterious figure in the world of fashion, well-known for his sense of style that has been appreciated, and worn, by celebrities all over the world, but very few people can say to have met him. He is probably the only fashion designer in the world who does not attend his own shows, nor does he give interviews in person - only by phone or mail. No official, proven picture of him exists on the internet, and you have heard that his closest collaborators -an inner circle among which, you imagine, you are going to be admitted tomorrow- are required to sign a non-disclosure agreement to swear not to share his personal information with third parties.

All it is known about Gil-Galad is that he’s a male, native of Lindon, and probably on the young side, since he started making a name for himself only a few years ago, soon before you started attending the Arda, and the rest is nothing more than gossip and assumptions; there is even the possibility he is using a pseudonym rather than his real name. The thought that you are going to meet such an elusive personage, whose identity fashion lovers and journalists all over the world would give an arm to discover, is intriguing, but all things considered, the personal matters of your mentor are none of your business; all you want is to learn as much as you can from him, and hopefully begin your career as a fashion designer.

“A little bit.”

“I can imagine. We’re celebrating tonight, yes? It’s Friday, we can go to the Moria.”  

The Moria is one of the city’s best-known clubs; the music is good, the cocktails even better, and you always have a good time there, especially on Friday, when the club hosts its famous theme nights.

“I don’t know, Mirdania.” you confess as you follow your friend down the steps leading to the metro station, surrounded by a veritable crowd moving in both directions; it’s almost rush hour, and you already know that finding a seat on the train will be impossible “You do remember we are going to meet our mentors tomorrow, yes? I was planning on going to bed early, to be well-rested…”

Your friend assures you she is as determined as you are to make a good impression, and doesn’t plan on showing up to the Arda for her first meeting with Celebrimbor still tipsy from the night before, her make-up smudged and her breath smelling like alcohol. “But we do deserve to celebrate, don’t we? Come on, just a couple hours! We have a drink, we dance a bit, and then we return home. Keep in mind how busy we will be for the next six months!”

She has a point, you have to admit as you adjust the strap of your bag on your shoulder, especially because you haven’t been to the Moria, or to any club or pub for that matter, in ages, since you were so busy with your classes and preparing your submission to the internship. An eight-, or even nine-, hours sleep would do you a world of good, but on the other hand, you do feel the need to celebrate…

By the time you have come to a decision, you and Mirdania have reached the station’s central joint: from here you’ll have to part to take different lines. 

“Alright; I’m in.”

“Great! We’ll have fun, I’m sure.” Mirdania comments happily, her excitement contagious as you find yourself smiling “We deserve it, (name); we won fair and square.”

You assure her that you know, and your friend promises she’ll come pick you up at your apartment that night. You had no doubts she would be chosen for the apprenticeship, since Mirdania is undoubtedly the most talented student in your year, but you are happy the panel recognised the value of her work. You were a little less sure about yourself, since there are so many talented designers in your course, but since you got in as well, you have to have done something better than the others, right?

“I’ll see you tonight.” you promise, and Mirdania waves you goodbye as she walks away, her bright blonde hair soon swallowed by the crowd; you linger for a moment, already excited both for the night awaiting you and the day that will follow, and then turn to walk towards your train. 

*****

You really thought you had nothing to worry about. 

One of your favourite fashion designers, you read once in their autobiography, used their siblings as models at the beginning of their career, since they couldn’t afford to pay professional ones. You can’t do the same, being an only child, and most of your friends don’t have the time, or the patience, to let you spend hours fitting clothes on them, which is why most of your creations, except those you realise as presents, are tailored on a specific body type: yours.

Wearing the three-piece suit that won you to the internship for your celebration night felt like the most natural choice, and as you observe your reflection in the full-length mirror of your bedroom, having already taken care of your hair and make-up, you have to admit you do look good; more importantly, you feel good, and are quite proud of your creation. 

A quick honk outside your window announces Mirdania’s arrival. You go out to meet her, and when you find yourself face to face with your friend, both of you burst into laughter: like they say, great minds think alike, and Mirdania looks amazing in the mullet dress the internship panel awarded full marks to. 

“I doubt this is the Moria’s style.” you point out, amused. 

“I don’t care; come on, I need one of Durin’s drinks.”

You happily sing along with the radio during the short ride to the club, and finally the Moria appears in front of you. You leave your coats at the entrance, and as you predicted, almost every person present turns to look at you and Mirdania as you step in the room, intrigued by your clothes; you and your friend share an amused smile, and you privately have to admit how flattered you feel, even though as a fashion designer what you enjoy is creating clothes, not wearing them yourself. 

“Oh, it’s you guys; and here I thought two top models were gracing my humble club with their presence.” the barman and owner, Durin, jokes when he sees you approach, already busy preparing drinks behind the counter “You really put the rest of my clientele to shame tonight.”

“Thank you, Durin; we made these ourselves!”

“You both look lovely, truly. I wish I had worn a suit like yours on my wedding day, (name), rather than looking like a penguin…”

A grand piano is set on the stage at the centre of the room, a young musician playing a classic piece you vaguely remember hearing before. You and Mirdania decide to sit at the counter for a while, nursing the drinks Durin has already prepared for you. You let your gaze drift over the room, the people sitting at the small tables surrounding the stage, the soft notes soaring from the piano, the few couples who have already started dancing, gently swaying in the arms of their partner. You should feel happy tonight, relieved for your success and excited to begin your internship, and you do! You are happy, even though at the same time you can’t help but feel a bit wistful, and worried…

Mirdania is asking Durin about his wife, Disa, who recently gave birth to their first child, but then she notices your expression, and preoccupation colours her lovely face. “(name), are you alright?”

“Yes, yes; I’m just thinking.”

“About what?”

“About the future. About where I will be, nine months from now.”

By then, barring accidents, you will have graduated from the Arda, free and at the same time forced to begin earning your living. “I thought you planned on finding a job in an important fashion house, just like me.” she points out; that is the most natural choice for a person with your education, unless they are exceptionally talented -or exceptionally wealthy- and are therefore able to get the funding to open a fashion house of their own. 

“I do. It’s just… I don’t know if I can actually manage that.” you confess, to Mirdania’s open surprise; while you like to think you are not as presumptuous as some of your fellow students, who already imagine themselves as top selling designers, whose creations grace the covers of magazines and fetch top dollars among celebrities and members of the elite, it’s not like you to doubt your talent and potential, not to mention your chance of turning your passion in a profitable career.

“Why shouldn’t you? You are one of the best students of our course, you have obtained a prestigious internship, and many alumni of the Arda went on to become famous designers.”

“Yes, but not all of them; in fact, I bet many former students ended up doing something else, and not because of lack of talent. Fashion is one of the most difficult fields in which to break in; why should I succeed where so many others have failed?”

“(name)...”

“I’m sorry.” you murmur, suddenly melancholic, and scared, for a reason you can’t quite describe. Rationally speaking you have every reason to be happy, satisfied, and even hopeful regarding your professional future, given your excellent academic record and the prestigious work opportunity you just obtained, but thinking that at the end of it you’ll be only a few weeks away from your graduation led you to reflect on your future, which you have never felt more pessimistic about “I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight…” 

Who says your academic successes will be enough to guarantee you a career in the field of your choice? So many aspiring artists, actors and singers and writers, wait years and even decades for their big break, which never comes, no matter how good an education they have received, and even how objectively talented they are; it’s the same, or even worse, in the field of fashion, where maybe one out of a hundred or more hopefuls reaches some level of notoriety. 

You already knew when you enrolled in the Arda how hard it would have been to actually become famous, or even just earn your living, as a fashion designer, and you don’t regret choosing such a difficult field to work in. Fashion has been your passion, your only ambition, ever since you watched shows on television with your mother and your grandmother taught you to sew when you were ten, and there would be nothing shameful in having to get another job to support yourself while you wait for your shot to stardom. But if you think that while you wait might end up meaning the rest of your life, and that your years at the Arda, and all the time and effort you have dedicated to your dream, all the hopes and the ambition, might amount to nothing, and you will have to work maybe a steady, even prestigious job, but that you find no joy or even just interest in, just to pay your rent and bills…

Oh, God; what am I doing? Maybe I should stop while I still can, and get a job at a  supermarket or as a bank teller, it’ll be less exciting but at least I won’t have to fear any disappointment…

“You want to return home? I can drive you, it’s not a problem.” Mirdania proposes, an offer you actually consider but that you don’t have the heart to accept, given how excited your friend was about tonight.  

“No, I’m fine; it’s probably because of the stress of these past weeks.” you try to reassure her, forcing yourself to smile “I just need to relax.” “If you change your mind we can leave; I don’t mind, truly.”

You thank your friend, sincerely grateful, and do your best to relax and enjoy the music and your drink, both of them actually good. You turn your gaze back to the piano, the musician having now switched to a melancholic jazz piece… 

… and then, almost casually, your eyes meet those of a man sitting across the room from you, and time seems to stop.

He has dark hair, and is wearing something black; that is all you can see of him, given the distance and the soft light permeating the club, but it’s his gaze that compels you… a gaze intense and open, even blatant, proper of a person who feels no shame in expressing their thoughts and feelings. 

He seems to have stared at you longer than you have been aware of; the man smiles at you, and you smile back, suddenly shy, and force yourself to look away to talk to Durin. 

A few minutes later a man your age approaches the two of you: it’s Malendol, a friend of Mirdania you know she has a particular interest in. You chat for a while, and soon after your friend is invited to dance.

“I’d like that, but…”

“No buts; you go and dance.” you tell her, well aware she’d decline in order not to leave you alone; you actually don’t mind, and the last thing you want is for your bad mood to ruin your friend’s night “Come on, off you go.”

“Are you sure it doesn’t bother you?”

“Absolutely sure. Malendol, keep her away for at least half an hour.”

He nods, grinning at you, and a moment later your friend is walking towards the dancefloor, her dress once more attracting the attention of whoever she walks past. 

Durin smiles at you, his arms resting on the counter. “That was kind of you.”

“No one wants to be the third wheel with a friend and a potential partner; and I don’t want to infect her with my bad mood.”

“Something bad happened?”

“No, and that’s the worst thing of all. I should be happy, but…”

“Hello.”

You realise it’s him even before looking; you remain still for a moment, suddenly struggling to swallow, and then turn, offering your best smile. “Hello.”

The first thing you notice, as natural for a future professional in the field of fashion, is his suit; expensive, clearly tailored to the body of the person wearing it, emphasising the width of his shoulders and his narrow waist, and paired with an elegant golden-coloured shirt. 

And then there’s him, his face, and no matter how much you like his clothes, that is what makes your heartbeat accelerate suddenly.

“I hope you won’t consider me too forward, but I noticed you from my table, and… I saw your friend left to dance. May I sit?”

“Of course.” you answer happily, and a moment later the man has occupied the stool next to yours. Like you had noticed, his hair is dark, and longer than most men’s, a soft-looking, lucid mantle falling to his waist; he has a classically beautiful face, the sort you usually find on marble statues or antique paintings, bright dark eyes, and a friendly, open smile.

He is handsome. No, you correct yourself as you move your legs away to make space for him, too slowly to avoid his knee brushing against yours, he’s absolutely gorgeous, without a doubt one of the most attractive men you have ever met -and that’s saying something, with all the male models you have seen at the various fashion shows you have attended- and the way he’s looking at you is making you feel as if Durin had turned the heating to the maximum.

“My name is Ereinion.” he introduces himself offering you a hand you shake; he is wearing several rings, even though not, you notice with relief, the one that suggests he may have a spouse waiting for him at home.

“I am (name), good to meet you.”

“... you said (name)?”

“Yes, why?” you ask, surprised; is there perhaps something wrong with your name?

“... nothing. The pleasure is all mine, (name); may I say I really like your suit? It’s very smart, I like the embroidery on the lapels.”

“Thank you.” you say, sincerely flattered “So, uhm, is this your first visit to the Moria?”

You spend a few minutes talking, the conversation flowing free and relaxed like it rarely happens to you with a person you have just met. You tell Ereinion you are still in school, but when he ask what you are studying you propose to change the topic; you’re usually more than happy to talk about your studies, and the Arda, and all that concerns fashion, but at the moment the less you think about your future, and how little chance you have to actually earn your living as a fashion designer, the better. 

“No problem.” he answers easily “Can I buy you a drink?”

You gently refuse, since two drinks per night is usually your limit and you don’t want to lower your guard in the company of a man you still don’t know you can trust. You and Ereinion end up talking for more than an hour, discussing everything from movies and literature, to travels and even politics. Your new acquaintance is an endless source of interesting facts and ideas; he has told you he’s self-employed -which, you gather, means he’s a businessman- and he travels much for work.

He’s interested in you, you can see it in his eyes, the feeling blatant and open even though he’s acting like a perfect gentleman, and even though this has happened to you before you feel both flattered and a little intimidated. Ereinion can’t be much older than you, but his suit, the heavy watch at his wrist, and something in the self-confidence he exudes suggests he is a man of wealth, which is as different from your situation as it can be, since you are attending the Arda on a scholarship and still have to rely on your parents’ help to pay rent. You seem to have hit it off, but you doubt you and this man have much in common…

“... and then my cousin, Galadriel, took offence, and threatened to carve that man’s face with a steak knife; had I not intervened, physically lifting her to carry her outside, she probably would have.”

“Oh my God!” you say, unable to stop laughing as Ereinion tells you about the latest disastrous family reunion he attended “I can’t believe she really threatened him!”

“She did. I am very fond of Galadriel, but sometimes I wish she had more self-control.” he admits with a soft smile; he remains silent for a moment, as if debating his next move, and then his hand covers the one you have placed on the bar’s counter, the touch feather-light but enough to make you perceive the warmth of his body “Would you like to dance?”

You swallow. “I’d love to.”

Durin looks approvingly at you as you let Ereinion’s hand at the small of your back guide you to the dancefloor; a moment later you have joined the couples gently swaying to the music, his hands resting on your hips, your arms circling his neck. He is the one leading, which is good, because by now you have completely stopped listening to the music, too focused on the firm, warm body embracing yours.

“What’s wrong?” Ereinion asks after a few minutes, his murmur caressing the shell of your ear. 

“Nothing!”

“I can feel you are tense; is something bothering you?”

“I’m fine, really.” you try to reassure him as you meet his gaze, but you don’t seem to succeed, because a moment later, with a jolt of panic, you feel him pulling back.

“(name), if I have… made you uncomfortable somehow, I am truly sorry.”

“You haven’t; really, err, it’s not your fault. You can’t help being so terribly handsome, after all.”

You hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but you have, and blushing and covering your mouth with your hand doesn’t help. Ereinion grins, openly flattered.

“You really think so?” Despite your embarrassment, you find yourself smiling. “Oh, don’t be coy; I wanted to ask you if you ever considered a career as a model.”

“I… haven’t, actually; but thank you very much. I think you are extremely beautiful as well.”

“Well, thank you…”

You share a smile, the tension between the two of you dissipating. The next two hours pass quickly; you dance, you talk, you drink -a non-alcoholic for you- and in the end Ereinion accompanies you on the club’s tiny veranda for a breath of fresh air. You have met Mirdania’s eyes a couple times, as she danced with Malendol or sat with him and his friends, and you’ve seen approval in her eyes; clearly neither of you is disappointed her friend has found someone else to spend the evening with. 

“I like this place.” Ereinion comments as he rests his back against the wall by your side, his eyes focused on you rather than on the sky full of stars above you; he has already offered you his jacket to wear, in case you felt cold, and you declined, secretly flattered by the offer “I’ll have to thank the people who recommended it to me.”

“You have a favourite place here in the city?” “A few. I, err, haven’t been to a club, or any other place really, for a long time. I’ve been very busy with my work and… people say that I don’t know how to relax.”

It’s a feeling you know well. “And they are right?”

“They are. But I’m feeling very relaxed right now, which is pleasant.”

Ereinion smiles; and you thought he couldn’t look more gorgeous. “What are you thinking about?” he asks, and you hesitate only for a moment before answering in the only way you can: truthfully.

“I’m thinking that even though this is one of my favourite clubs and I had been in the company of my friend until a minute before I was feeling pretty down, so I really have to thank you for coming to talk to me; I feel much better now.”

“Glad I could help.” 

A moment of silence as Ereinion turns to look at you; his hand cups your cheek, and you forget how to breathe. “Do you want to know what I am thinking?” he asks softly, and you not imperceptibly, heart pounding in your chest “I’m thinking that you must be the most beautiful woman I have met in a long time, and I’m dying to kiss you.”

It’s as if you had been holding your breath ever since your gazes first met; and now, finally, you can exhale. “Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

You are surer of this than you are of your name, and you don’t care how desperate it makes you look to say it. “I am absolutely sure; please, I want it too, I want it so much…”

A moment later Ereinion has claimed your mouth in a searing kiss; you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his, and whatever he feels seems to please him, because you hear him moan in your mouth. His body is large, warm, powerful, and you lose yourself in the intensity of his embrace; your hands move up and down his chest, and Ereinion holds you by the hips as his tongue takes possession of your mouth. 

The next ten minutes pass as if in a dream. Ereinion is now kissing your neck, the sweet caress of his mouth leaving goosebumps behind it, and you moan out loud, well aware that whoever among the club’s clients -or worse even, Durin- felt the need for a smoke or a breath of fresh air could see you, and physically unable to care.

“Oh, God…”

“Good?”

As if he could doubt it! “More than good. Please, please don’t stop…”

He has no intention to, and he proves it by holding you tight as he moulds the shape of your body with his hands. You can feel him smiling against your mouth as he kisses you again, and for some reason the sensation fills your heart with joy… and then you jump, when Ereinion lifts your leg around his waist, pressing his hips against yours. 

“Fuck.” you murmur. You can feel how hard he is, and you barely know him, way too little for something like this to be the smart, or even just the safe, thing to do, but caring, reminding yourself of the rules you have set for yourself when you started dating as a teenager, is suddenly the hardest thing you ever had to do; you’ve never felt so aroused in your life, you want this man desperately, you need to feel his body against yours and in yours as soon as possible, you need to feel his hands on your skin and his mouth kissing every part of you…

Ereinion groans as he feels you rubbing yourself against him, desperately searching for some relief, a raw, blatantly erotic sound that makes you wish you were truly alone, naked, on a bed or whatever other surface sturdy enough to support your combined weight “God, you feel amazing…”

Your heart is pounding; your mind is spinning; your body is begging for contact, and if you don’t do something about it now you’ll end up on your knees in front of him - which will be undoubtedly amazing, even though not completely satisfying. So you meet his eyes and

“Can we go somewhere else?” you ask, and Ereinion grins. “Do you want to come to my place? My car is outside.” 

“Yes, it’s fine; I just need to tell my friend, and take my coat.”

He nods, clearly happy, and you return inside together, his arm resting on your shoulders. 

*****

Ereinion’s car is exactly like you had imagined, and exactly like him; large, elegant, powerful, and you feel yourself shivering with pleasure as you lower yourself on the leather seat, after he had chivalrously opened the door for you.

He drives unhurriedly among the city streets, focused on the road ahead but looking away to meet your eyes once in a while; you share a smile, no need for words between you.

You’re not at all surprised that, when the car finally stops, you have reached one of the most upscale neighbourhoods of the city, and the building in front of you must cost more per square meter than your yearly tuition at the Arda.

Ereinion once again opens the door for you, and offers you his hand to get out; you smile, secretly flattered. “Can I ask you a very straightforward question?”

“Of course.”

“You are rich, aren’t you?”

He laughs, sincerely amused. “I’m… comfortable.” he admits “I am fortunate enough to have a job that pays well, even though I do work hard and have paid my dues.”

You assure him that he has no need to justify himself, even though you must admit you do feel a little intimidated; most of your friends, and former partners, are or were students like you or people who work to support themselves, and while Ereinion looks only a few years older than you and doesn’t seem the sort of man who boasts about wealth, you have already perceived there is a huge gap between the two of you. Would he think less of you if you told him you still need your parents’ help to pay rent, don’t own a car, and still buy most of your clothes at the mall?

The sense of inferiority feels like a heavy and unpleasant weight on your stomach: still, he did not ask for your bank statement before bringing you home, and as you take his hand to be led inside, any fear and anxiety you may have felt disappears, leaving behind only joy and desire. Mirdania, who you have left in Malendol’s excellent care, asked in a whisper if you were sure of what you were doing, and you are, you are like you have rarely been of anything before.

You want him; and you only need to look at the handsome man now opening the house door -after you, miss- to know he wants you too. 

“Come, make yourself comfortable.” Ereinion invites you kindly as he guides you through the door, which is as elegant and refined inside as it looks outside, all marble and fine furniture “Something to drink?”

You tell him you’d be happy to have a glass of water, since anxiety has dried your mouth, and he leads you to the kitchen, where you find out that, as was to be expected, Ereinion does not live alone.

“This is Aiglos; Aiglos, meet (name).” he introduces you, fondness evident in his voice, as the beautiful German shepard that stood from his bed near the fridge approaches and starts sniffing you; the inspection must yield satisfactory results, because a moment later the dog is licking your hands “I’m sorry, I should have asked you if you have problems with dogs.”

You assure him that you don’t, even though you have never had a pet in your life, and briefly play with the animal, a beautiful adult specimen with black and brown fur and bright, intelligent eyes, while Ereinion takes care of your last drink of the day.

“So it’s only you and Aiglos?” you ask then, after you have quenched your thirst and his dog has gone looking for his toys in the living room “Living here, I mean.”

“Is this your way of asking whether I am married?”

You blush, unable to hide it behind your water glass. “No, I… I’m sorry, I was just thinking that this house seems too large for a single person…”

“It’s fine.” he reassures you with a smile “And it probably is, I have come to realise since I moved here. And I am free as air, I swear.”

You believe him; you have no reason to, all things considered, but you just do. “I am single as well, in case you want to know.”

“I do… even though I don’t doubt you have several admirers vying for your attention.”

You don’t, actually, even though the main reason you have been single for more than a year, after your latest partner cheated on you, is that you have been so focused on your studies, and the upcoming internship, to have much time to dedicate to relationships. 

It bothered you, at times; but right now, you couldn’t be more relieved. 

You place your empty glass in the sink, and smile as Ereinion takes you in his arms once more. “God, you really are gorgeous.” he murmurs; he’s holding you close, not hurting you but tight enough you would probably be unable to wiggle out if you wanted to.

Good thing, then, that I don’t.

“I haven’t done anything like this in at least five years, you know?” Ereinion murmurs; then, as if realising his words could be misunderstood: “Taken someone home, I mean.”

“If you’re… uncomfortable in any way, we don’t have to…”

“No, absolutely; it’s just that… the last time that person stole my wallet and my dog while I was asleep, so it’s not exactly a good memory.”

“Oh, God, that is horrible…”

“Well, I was able to find Aiglos at least, a few days later.”

“That’s good. And in any case…” you murmur as you slip your arms under his jacket, feeling the firmness of his torso against your body “... I can promise I want nothing from you, if not what you are willing to give. I… I had never felt like this before; I need you, Ereinion, I just need you to take me…”

He sighs, as if overwhelmed by what he feels. “Then I will.” he murmurs, before cupping your face in his hands once again “You have my word.”

You keep kissing as he guides you to his bedroom, where a huge bed, its dark-coloured sheets soft to the touch, is waiting for you. You start taking each other’s clothes off, and once both of your jackets have been abandoned on a chair, you hear Ereinion groan as he unbuttons your waistcoat. “I just wish I could tear this off you…”

You pout. “I think you liked my suit.”

“I love your suit; it’s very elegant and you look amazing in it. I just wish it was easier to take it off…”

In the end you manage, and within a few minutes your clothes are scattered around the room, and you’re both in your underwear. Ereinion guides you to the bed, kneeling on the floor between your legs as you kiss senselessly; his hand moves up and down your thigh, but a moment later you have unclasped your bra, and he is pulling you close by the hips to kiss your chest, whispering words into your skin that make you thank God the room is bathed by the pale moonlight, because you don’t want him to see you are blushing. 

You murmur his name as you arch your back, waves of pleasure running through you as he kisses and licks and sucks as if your breast were the last glass of water in a deserted world, hungry and reverent, almost worshipful, and your fingers play with his dark locks as you murmur how handsome he is, how good he’s making you feel, and how you can’t wait to feel him inside you. 

When he stops, you can see he’s grinning. “Up.” he orders, and you lift your legs and then your hips to let him take your panties off.

You are naked, naked on the bed of a man you have known for four hours, and you’ve never felt so happy in your life. Ereinion kisses your legs as he opens them, and then he’s standing, taking off his black pants to expose his strong, sensual body, which is even more handsome than you thought, so perfect you struggle to breathe as you admire him.

“You’re beautiful.” you murmur, and Ereinion smiles at you as he reaches you on the bed, looming over you. 

“I’m going to make you feel good.” he murmurs before kissing you once more “Just tell me if I hurt you or you want to stop.”

You appreciate the thought, but you know already nothing he’ll decide to do will make you want to stop. You sigh as you feel his body pressing against yours; your heart is pounding, desire tensing your muscles as every fiber of your being screams begging to be fucked, but at the same time you’re relaxed, at ease and safe as if you were in your own home, with a person you had known all your life, and with whom you shared something deep and real and destined to last.

It might be a sign; and it might be not. You don’t care about the future, just like you don’t care about the past, and the differences between your lifestyles. All that counts is the present, and what you’re living together, and oh God he’s started pushing and it feels so good he’s so big…!

“You’re so wet for me.” Ereinion groans; he smiles at you, eyes full of desire, and a moment later he is fully inside you.

Your lovemaking is slow, soft and intense, Ereinion hiding his face in the grove of your neck as he relentlessly pushes himself in, and in your delirium part of you fears he’s going to split you open, but you don’t care, because it feels so good, he’s so warm and strong and hard, and you’re moaning and crying and digging your nails in the flesh of his back -painful, theoretically, but Ereinion seems to appreciate- and begging him not to stop, because you love this and you love him too… 

World dissolves in ecstasy; you stop thinking, hold on to him, and let your body join his in the dance. 

*****

You really thought you had found something beautiful.

It’s the sound of water falling that wakes you the next morning, coming not from outside -the sky is clear, with no sign of rain- but from the room adjacent to the one you are in, a large, pristine bedroom with elegant modern furniture and a beautiful view of the city out of the windows. You have only a few minutes to observe it, since you were too busy for it last night, and to enjoy the quiet happiness bubbling in your heart, before the water in the en-suite bathroom is turned off, and a minute later Ereinion, wearing only a pair of dress pants, his hair still wet after the shower, enters, immediately walking to you.

“Good morning.” he greets you softly as he bends on the bed to kiss you; he is happy, and does nothing to hide it “Sorry I woke you up.”

“It’s no problem.” you answer happily; you are now sitting on the bed, not bothering to use the soft blankets to cover yourself as you savour the honey on his lips, and the warmth of his body still enveloping your skin. It has been the most amazing night of your life, and while you have no intention of saying it out loud, you know it’s the same for him “Can’t you stay a little longer? Please?”

“I really wish I could; but I have to meet someone soon.”

“A woman?”

“Yes; but it’s not like you think. It’s for work.” he hurries to explain; he cups your face in his hands, clearly anxious to convince you “I told you I wasn’t seeing anyone, and I’d never lie about something like this.”

“I believe you.” you assure him; you have no right to be jealous of him -nor he of you, clearly- but you can’t deny, at least in your heart, that knowing he is single is an enormous source of relief. Only a few hours, albeit very intense, after your first meeting you already feel Ereinion is a drug you could easily become addicted to, but at the moment you are too happy, and sated, to worry about it “I’m sorry, I don’t want to sound possessive.”

Ereinion assures you he is pleased to know you still desire his company, and you’re free to remain in bed as long as you want - and as long as you don’t take Aiglos with you when you leave.

“No, it’s fine; I have things to do as well.”

And you really do; according to your phone you have little more than two hours to go home, shower, change, and then go to the Arda in time to meet your mentor for the internship. Had things -specifically, your evening- gone differently, you would be trembling with anxiety; instead, you feel perfectly calm, excited but in control of yourself, ready to make a good impression on the famous designer you’ll be working under for six months. And after that, and after your diploma… well, you’ll have time to worry about the future in time, you decide; doing it in advance is pointless.

You take a quick shower -the bathroom is, just as the rest of the house, enormous, but it’s the sort of luxury that evokes cosiness, rather than unease- and by the time you are wearing your suit once again and have joined him in the living room, Ereinion has put an elegant white shirt on, filled Aiglos’ bowl with food, and prepared two cups of coffee, one of which he offers you with a smile.

“Something tells me you’re a black coffee sort of woman.” “I actually am!” you confess, impressed “How do you know?”

“Just a talent I was born with.”

Ereinion grins; he places his cup on the counter to kiss you once more, hard, loving, intense enough to make your head spin as you enthusiastically kiss him back. You’ve had sex three times already, but you’re not sated yet; part of you has already begun thinking you might never be, a thought that is both terrifying and exhilarating. 

“Tell me I can see you for dinner.”

“I can see you for dinner.”

He moans, even though not in the particular way you have already come to appreciate. “(name), please…”

“Sorry, sorry.” you murmur, raising your hand to touch his soft hair; you have spent the whole night making love but God, that simple contact is enough to make you tremble “I’d really love to. Believe me, if what I need to do today weren’t extremely important, I’d remain here waiting for you to come back.”

Another of those beautiful smiles, and then Aiglos comes in to reclaim both of his food and a bit of cuddles from you, both of which are readily offered to him. 

“He likes you.” Ereinion points out as he observes you playing with his dog; then, softly: “And I do too.”

“I like you too.” you readily admit, standing to look at him; again, you share a smile.

You leave the house together twenty minutes later. “The metro is that way, only five minutes away.” Ereinion informs you, pointing the direction with his finger “I can drive you home if you want, I need to take the car in any case, but I guess you wouldn’t accept, would you?” “I appreciate the offer, but I wouldn’t.” you say; he doesn’t seem the sort of man who stalks a woman after she broke up with him, but one can never be too sure. 

“It’s fine. I’ll see you tonight, then.”

You assure him he will, and that you really can’t wait for your date; you share a last, long kiss, and then Ereinion is looking at you as you move a few steps away, turn, and wave your hand good-bye before setting out.

*****

And now…

You walk through the Arda’s main door -there are no classes today, since it’s Saturday, but a few students come to take advantage of the well-equipped atelier to work on their creations, which means the building is technically open in the week-end as well- ten minutes before the appointed time for your meeting with your mentor at a quick but unhurried pace, wearing your best suit, which you have paired with a blouse of your creation. 

You should feel tired, since sleep was the last thing on your mind last night, but you aren’t: you feel lucid, excited but in control, ready to make a good impression without letting the fear for the future get you down. 

And tonight you are seeing Ereinion again. Thinking back to last night, part of you still can’t believe what happened was real and not the plot of a cheesy rom-com; but it was real, it happened, to you, and while you have never believed in love at first sight, you are determined not to let this chance go to waste. He is so handsome, and he seemed to be genuinely interested in what you had to say, and he took care of your pleasure as well as his, which is more than you can say for some of your past partners. There is so much you still don’t know about each other, and the thought of dating a wealthy, already self-sufficient person while you’re still a student relying on her family’s help should probably make you hesitate, but it does not. You don’t plan on becoming Ereinion’s kept woman, nor to let your relationship, should the two of you actually begin one, divert you from your studies, and you actually don’t care for his economic status either way. 

It’s less than twelve hours to your first date; you can’t wait, and you’ll need to think about what to wear… even though, you remind yourself as you quickly cross the main corridor, now you have to put aside your new fling, and focus on what could be your big chance to start building a career as a fashion designer.   

You meet Mirdania and Elrond in the tiny break-room on the first floor. Your friend, looking very smart as usual in a blouse and frilled skirt she bought expressly to improve it according to her personal style, smiles knowingly at you as he sees you approach. “Well, look who seems in a markedly better mood than last night.”

“I had a wonderful evening.” you admit “And, I’m meeting him for dinner.”

“Good for you. I do admit your new friend looks very handsome.” 

“I agree. What about you? Did you have fun?”

Your friend, blushing a bit, admits that Malendol did ask her out last night, which she accepted. You are discussing the possibility of organising a double date -at the Moria, obviously- when one of your lecturers enters the room. 

“Your mentors have arrived, and are ready to meet you.” they say, before explaining which room each of the designers is waiting in “You have one hour to make their acquaintance and discuss your internship, then you are all to come to the administration office to sign a few forms. Good luck to you all.”

You and Mirdania share an excited smile, and whisper good luck to each other before following Elrond out of the break-room. 

The class where Gil-Galad is waiting for you is at the end of the corridor; you reach it, take a deep breath as you square your shoulder, knock on the door, and open it.

“Good morning, sir. I am your new intern, (full name), and I am very happy for…”

“(name).” a soft voice interrupts you, and you blink, stopping dead as the door closes behind you. Then you see the person waiting for you, their hands and back resting on the edge of the professor’s podium, and you stop breathing.

The anguish on Ereinion’s expression is so intense it borders on panic; he starts walking towards you, slowly, like a hunter trying not to spook a doe… before he has time to shoot her.

“(name), I’m so sorry.” he says, his tone pleading “Let me explain… I swear I didn’t know…” 

May I say I really like your suit? It’s very smart, I like the embroidery on the lapels. This is what Ereinion said upon meeting you, an apparently sincere compliment that immediately charmed you. Not many men would have noticed a detail like that, let alone thought of complimenting it, but a person who knows much about fashion, who works in the field and loves it as much as you do, would have.

You can’t stop staring at him -him. HIM!- as the enormity of the truth comes crashing down on you, burying you alive. It’s not possible, you desperately tell yourself, suddenly feeling dizzy, there must be an explanation, it can’t be true…

But it is, the reality too clear and evident to be denied, and it is now standing in front of you, close enough you could touch him.

Ereinion is Gil-Galad. Gil-Galad is Ereinion. The famous fashion designer you couldn’t wait to work for and learn from, and the charming man who seduced you and gave you the best night of your life. They are one and the same, the two sides of the same coin, and they both made a fool of you. 

“I am sorry, truly.” he murmurs, kind and anguished as he takes your hands in his, but you have quickly stepped back, putting as much space between you as you can.

“No… no…” you stammer, barely aware of the words you are uttering; your head is spinning, and your legs a moment away from giving way, as you realise the enormity of the mess you have gotten yourself in “I can’t… it’s not possible…”

“(name), please… we can find a way to make things work, if you just let me explain…”

You don’t; you have no interest in whatever this man, whoever he is, may have to say, and you don’t want to remain in his presence a moment more, not to mention your eyes have already filled with tears and you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how shattered you feel. So you swat his hand away, like you would do with an insect, and

“You… you bastard!” you scream in his face “You ruined everything!”

before turning and running out of the room, deaf to his pleads to stop. 

*****

You really thought you had made it. You really thought you had nothing to worry about. You really thought you had found something beautiful. And now… all of it has disappeared like snow at the coming of spring, leaving behind nothing but shame and rejection.

There is no alcohol in the apartment, since you usually prefer to drink socially rather than when alone, and this is at the same time a very good thing and the worst possible outcome. You spend two hours lying on your bed, crying inconsolably as you hide your face in your pillow; your phone hasn’t stopped ringing ever since you ran out of the Arda, but you didn’t even bother taking it out of your bag. You can’t be fully sure all those calls and texts are his, and not of Mirdania, who might have heard what you did and be consequently worried about you, or someone else, but you don’t care; you feel so humiliated, so completely annihilated, you don’t even bear the thought of talking to your friend or your family.

You still can’t believe it. You were so excited, and nervous, of meeting Gil-Galad, a famous fashion designer whose work you had long admired, and then you end up in bed with him, making love with an intensity you had never experienced before, without even realising.

Is Ereinion his real name, and the one all fashion fans in the country know a pseudonym? Or is it the opposite? Did he realise the woman in front of him was his future intern when you exchanged names at the club, and decided to have sex with you simply because he found you desirable, and to hell with the work relationship you were due to begin only a few hours later, or he seduced you with the precise intent of making you his lover as well as his intern? Did he plan on spending his days teaching you the finer points of the art of fashion, and his nights with you in his bed?

Well, if that’s the truth, you’ll have to disappoint him. A relationship, whether romantic or sexual, between a mentor and a mentee would be absolutely inappropriate, it might get you in trouble should the Arda learn about it, and the power imbalance alone is something you are determined to avoid, because how could you care, and trust, and deal as equals with a man who could make it impossible for you to be hired in any fashion house in the country after a simple fight?

You’ve known him for less than twenty-four hours, and he clearly does not deserve your affection given how he deceived you, but the thought of losing Ereinion, that you’ll never see him again and never get to feel the emotions he filled your heart with in the few, precious hours you have spent together, breaks your heart. And that’s not all: you’ll also have to give up on your internship, because since the simple thought of seeing Ereinion again feels unbearable, how can you hope to work closely with him for six months? Despite his undeniable talent as a designer you are not even sure you want to work for him; what if he actually asks for sexual favours in exchange for his teachings…?

A small part of you is aware you are being too harsh in judging him, and that his heartbroken expression when you met at the Arda clearly suggests Ereinion was as unaware of your future working relationship as you were when you met, but you are too heartbroken to reason. The internship was all you aspired to and worked for for almost a year, you had invested so much on it, hoping it could help you start building a career as a fashion designer, like you had dreamt of doing since you were little, and now all of it was in vain. And last night… you really don’t believe in love at first sight, but you had never felt so intensely attracted to someone; you sincerely enjoyed the time you spent talking and dancing, and your lovemaking was sweet, intense, even loving; Ereinion had been everything you had ever looked for in a partner and then more: handsome, passionate, generous, able to share his pleasure with you and to take care of yours.

You really thought you could build something together; at the very least you wanted to, desperately, and the loss of that potential future makes you feel more lonely than ever. 

Only a few hours ago you felt amazing, about to begin a prestigious work experience and pursue a relationship with a partner who had stolen your heart; and now you have neither, you have lost everything, and while there will -might- be other job opportunities, and other men, you can’t help but think this was your chance, he was, as a lover or as a mentor if not both things together, and you have wasted it all away…

Deep in your sadness as you are, it actually takes you a while to realise the doorbell is ringing, more and more insistently. You ignore it, since you have never felt so unsociable and really don’t want to see anyone, but after a while the shrill sound hurting your eardrums is replaced by a voice, one you have heard for the first time only twelve hours ago but that you can’t help but recognise…

“(name), it’s me!” Ereinion calls for you from outside the door “Please, it’s not like you think! Let me explain!”

He came to your apartment! You never told him where you live, which means he must have found it on your curriculum, which the Arda has provided him with. Anger mounts inside you; how dares he? Had you wanted to talk to him you would have answered his calls, or called him yourself, since you exchanged numbers; what gives him the right of coming to bother you at home?

You rise from your bed and walk to the door. “Go away!” you cry, forcing yourself to make those words sound like an order rather than a plea.

“Not unless you let me talk to you.” he promptly answers from outside.

“Listen, Ereinion or whatever your name is…”

“Ereinion is my name. Gil-Galad is my second name, that I use for…”

“... you have until the count of five to leave, otherwise I’ll call the police to say you are threatening me. One!”

“You won’t do it. You’re not that cruel.” He is not wrong, and the fact he’s still able to see right through you pains and angers you both; you ball your fists, wishing he could see how furious you are.

“Are you really sure?” you ask in your most cruel tone “If you get arrested the papers might come to know about it; is this the sort of publicity you want for your brand? Two!”

“(name)...”

“Stop saying my name, it won’t help you. Three!”

“(name), I swear I didn’t know!”

You stop counting, hesitating despite yourself. “It changes nothing.” you whisper softly, resting your forehead against the door “What is done is done. I can’t work for you after what we shared last night, and I don’t feel comfortable dating you either, since you are everything I wish to be and will never get to become. I am very sorry, but we should both forget we ever met.”

You hear him grunt. “Don’t I get a saying in this? It concerns me as well.” he points out unhappily “It’s also my relationship, and my job.”

“You don’t. I’m very sorry, but this is the only thing I feel comfortable with doing. Ereinion, please, if you care for me just go.”

Silence.

“I know you’re still there. Please…”

“I like the way you say my name.” you hear him murmur; his voice is hoarse, deep, and damn, you wish it didn’t make you shiver “I like it very much, you know? I wanted to make you scream nothing more all night long, and I almost did…”

You strife a sob as the unbidden memories of your night together fill your mind; your self-control has reached its limit, and you don’t know how much longer you can resist before opening the door and throwing yourself into his arms to beg him to make it all go away. 

“Please. Please just go…”

“I will; you have my word. But let me speak to you face to face, please. I swear the next time you say leave, I’ll walk out of this door and you’ll never see me again.”

The thought is terrifying; a moment later you have opened the door, and moved silently aside to let Ereinion, who looks as tormented as you feel, walk inside.

The door closes, and the two of you can do nothing but stare at each other. You must look horrible -half dressed, puffy eyes, make-up smudged- but there is nothing but tenderness in Ereinion’s eyes as he looks at you; tenderness and heartbreak.

“I swear I did not know.” he starts after a minute “I know the matter is more complicated than that, but I want you to know. When I met you last night, I had no idea you were my trainee. Remember you never told me you attend the Arda, or even just that you study fashion; there are so many universities and schools in this city, how was I supposed to know?”

Once again, he’s not wrong. “But had the school not given you my curriculum? (name) is a pretty uncommon name, didn’t you remember reading it? There’s even my picture on it!”

Openly embarrassed, Ereinion admits he didn’t - not properly. “I received an email from the school yesterday morning, with the data of the student I was going to mentor. I was actually excited about it, but I was busy with something else at the time and, err, I just read the text real quick, without opening the attachment. Your name did sound familiar, but I didn’t make the connection. I only realised what was happening fifteen minutes before you arrived, when I finally opened that blasted -I’m sorry- email.”

“I see.” you murmur, and while you are relieved he did not try to deceive you, as he said, the problem at your hands is much bigger than a simple lack of goodwill. 

“The suit I wore yesterday… I made it myself, you know?” you murmur as you hug yourself; it’s pointless to mention it, but you want him to know “It’s the piece that won me the internship.”

Ereinion smiles; you have no way of knowing, since you’ve only met yesterday, but his closest associates would marvel at how often he’s doing it while he’s with you. “I should have known; it is lovely. And I went to the school’s atelier, I saw your creations; you really are talented, (name). I would be proud to work with you… and I would have thought the same had I not met you last night at the club.”

It is a beautiful thing to say, beautiful enough to fill your eyes with tears. “Thank you; I would have been happy to work with you too.”

“Then let’s do it. I have a new collection coming out next year, I want your input, there are so many things I want to discuss with you, people I want to introduce…”

“But we can’t. Ereinion, I…” you sigh, because nothing is harder than making a case while at the same time desiring the opposite “It’s always been important for me to keep my private and work life separate, which is why I would never date one of my lecturers, and it’s the same, if not more, for a mentorship.”

“Because you think I could fire you if you refuse to sleep with me?” “I don’t think you would; but it wouldn’t be fair for you either. What if I make a mistake you would dismiss someone else over, or I am up for some promotion someone else deserves more? I would never ask for any special treatment, but I don’t want you to have to choose between making me happy and treating me fairly. Becoming a fashion designer has been my dream since I was ten, but I don’t want people to say I have built my success because I slept with someone.”

You both reflect on the matter for a minute; Ereinion folds his arms to his chest, as if he had to physically stop himself from reaching out and embracing you. “And I guess you would not want me as a partner, since you can’t have me as a mentor.”

“I wish it was that easy. I do want you; I want you desperately. But knowing how successful you are, and the fact I haven’t even started my career, and this whole mess with the internship… I don’t think it would work; I need to be in a relationship where there is no power imbalance, and I’m afraid this is not our case.

“So you’re throwing away everything we have? Everything we could have?”

“It’s not like I want to!” you cry out, frustrated; why can he not see how much you’re hurting? “What I feel for you, what I have shared with you… I had never felt it before; but I am not going to sacrifice my principles, and my self-respect, for a lover. Not even you, Ereinion; and if you can’t understand it, and accept it, you’re not the sort of man I want to be around.”

Silence falls; your heart has the time to pound five times before the tall, handsome man in front of you sighs, takes a step forward, and cautiously reaches out with his hand. “May I touch you?” “I am not radioactive.”

He grins, and a moment later he’s holding you in his arms. “There might be a way for you not to have to give up on your internship.” he murmurs “You could do it with someone else.”

“... what?”

“I could swap interns with another of the designers. Celebrimbor is set on working with his mentee, who I have realised is your friend Mirdania, but Cirdan is an old friend, and when I spoke to him he said he doesn’t mind taking you and letting me take his new intern, Elrond. You would love working with him, I’m sure; Cirdan is a gentleman, and knows more about the business than any person I know. You would have much to learn from him.”

You consider the matter for a minute, safely held in his embrace. “You told him why you can’t work with me?” “I told him we are family friends, and therefore it wouldn’t have been proper for us to work together. It’s not exactly the truth, but I think it was a more appropriate explanation; and he promised he’ll keep the truth for himself.”

Working for a successful designer like Cirdan is an opportunity anyone in your situation would give an arm and a leg to get; and you must admit it, the prospect is exciting. 

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure. I don’t want you to lose this internship, (name); you deserve it, and it would be a great opportunity for your future.” Ereinion murmurs; he kisses your hair, sweet and chaste “I don’t want you to have to give up on your dreams… but, if I may be selfish just for a minute, I also wish you wouldn’t give up on us simply because we’re working in the same field.”

“I don’t work; I’m still a student.” you mumble; you rest your cheek against his shoulder, and suddenly you feel as if you hadn’t rested in a year.

“You know what I mean. (name), do you really think I care about that? Because I don’t, and the last thing I want is you to feel you have something to prove, or some standard to reach, in order to be somehow… worthy of me. And you shouldn’t either.”

He’s right, and you know it; you never thought Erenion could lose interest in you, or not consider you a partner on equal terms, simply because he’s more successful than you - which is an unfair comparison to begin with, since your career hasn’t even started yet. The problem is you, and your insecurities, which maybe you’ll never get rid of completely, but as he said, you shouldn’t allow them to stop you from pursuing a relationship with a person you sincerely care about. 

You can become a successful fashion designer relying on your own strength; and you can keep your private and professional life separate, like you’ve always done.

You feel him smile as you circle his shoulders with your arms, and now you’re holding each other, the intimacy different from what you shared last night, but equally precious. “I should probably go back to the school.” you murmur “To talk to mister Cirdan, and the administration office.”

“Sounds fair; as long as you remember you have a date tonight.”

You assure him you do; you share a smile. “Can I drive you there?”

“I’d like that. Come, I need a minute to prepare.”

You share a new kiss, and Ereinion smiles as you take his hand to guide him inside.

[hetalianskywalker]

Waiting

Pairing: Gil-galad x fem elf reader

Summary: I listened to “Would You Fall in Love with Me Again” from Epic the musical and went I need Gil-galad to say Penelope’s lines in Valinor.

Authors Note: I would be willing to write a version based on the whole song, but I couldn’t think of an equivalent for the marriage bed question that Gil-galad could ask the reader. So if anyone wants more, feel free to help me brainstorm. This is also my first time writing for this fandom even though I love Lotr and RoP so sorry if it’s rough.

Warnings: fluff. Spoilers for the end of his story line from The Silmarillion and other middle earth works, but based off his characterization in RoP. Referenced passed death. Kissing. Very self indulgent.

Music:

Word Count: 861

“Only my wife knew that.” Gil-galad uses that soft relaxed smile he saved for only those closest to him. His palm rests gently on the side of your face; his thumb brushing along your cheekbone. You relish in the sensation of the warmth of his hand mixed with the chill of his many rings on your skin; something you hadn’t even realized you missed. “So I guess that makes her you.”

Suddenly you're not in Valinor anymore, standing in the gardens of the Noldor palace in Tirion; you’re back in Lindon long ago. When the cities were bustling with elves and peace felt like it would last forever. Before Sauron had returned and it all went to hell. When it became so much harder to wash away your husband’s worry for just a moment. Before Gil-galad, High King of the Noldor and your husband, died.

The you of the early second age sneaks out into the surrounding forest at night for a moment of peace and quiet with your husband. You playfully half drag him along by the hand beneath the starlit sky and tree branches; his shoulders shake with silent laughter as he indulges you. You both know Elrond will say something along with giving one of his half teasing judgmental expressions in the morning, but you both decide to cross that bridge when you get there.

You feel like a completely different person now. There is hatred and pride intertwined in your feelings about that. But right now you feel so much lighter than you have at any point in the over three thousand years of being apart from Gil-galad. Maybe, you are still that lovestruck elven queen somehow.

He’s really here; I’m really here. Those thoughts and realizations continue to spiral through your mind and soul. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears as you watch his glossy eyes hold you in the moonlight.

“I will fall in love with you over and over again. I don't care how, where, or when. No matter how long it's been, you're mine.” The whisper slices into your very being: warm, desperate, and full of the same longing you had felt for him across the sea. He had stared east just as much as you had stared west. Waiting.

His forehead leans against yours as his hands move to your shoulders; he gives a soft squeeze, reassuring himself you are really there. Gil-galad takes a shaky breath and you notice yours is the same. His eyes close and you can’t help but smile as tears trickle down your face. You know that expression all too well: that look of concentration when he was praying he’s going to say the right words. You had so deeply missed seeing these little things.

“Don't tell me you're not the same person.” Your husband begs in the smallest voice you have ever heard him use. Your hands move to cup his face, unsure of how to give him comfort after so long apart, but needing to try. He leans into your touch as he opens his eyes again; a couple tears escape.

“You're always my wife and I've been waiting…” His voice is stronger now, summoning the High King you had followed into battle on more than one occasion and would do so still, but you are thankful to never have to again.

Gil-galad lets that word hang in the air between you for a long time. It carries so much weight and far too much sorrow. He swallows and you smile fondly up at him. He basks in the joy of you not pushing him to be faster in conversation; you always cared enough to wait for his genuine thoughts, not just what the king’s word was to mitigate the next disaster.

“Waiting…” He tries again, scarcely believing said wait is finally over. You are finally here with him.

“Ereinion.” The encouragement makes him grin as you wipe away a few more of his tears. The love you expressed in the singular use of one of his birth names makes him smile and his heart feels full, complete.

“For you.” You both linger in that moment, wanting it to end and never end at the same time. Your eyes flicker to his mouth and back to his eyes. You begin to slowly pull him toward you, but his mouth surges for yours before either of you can really process it. It’s warm, messy, and real. When you finally pull apart, his arms have wrapped tightly around you and your hands cling to his robes.

The wait is over. Finally.

“How long has it been?” His voice brings your thoughts back in order. You give a soft chuckle as you both pant, knowing you both know the answer already.

“Three thousand. One hundred. And forty one years.” The sorrow lingers in every word even as you hold on to one another for dear life. You had been on one of the last ships to leave for the undying lands, but there isn’t time to regret that now. What’s done is done and you are together now.

“I love you.” Your two voices say as one.

[elifereinion]

i’m having chatgpt create a story about gil galad. so far, i’ve been creating and reading these stories myself, but would you like me to share the stories i’ve crafted?

i know it’s DELUSIONAL but i’m obsessed with him 😮‍💨

[wordbunch]

Their love song (Taylor Swift edition) > The Rings of Power characters

a/n: welcome to my little self-indulgent celebration of 700 followers! 🥳 EVEN IF you're not a fan/don't know the songs, I hope you can still like and support this fic - a lot of time and love went into it! and by all means come talk to me about it or suggest your own songs! love you all so much and thank you for reading my stories and being a wonderful community 💕

HALBRAND ♡ cruel summer

Please look at these lyrics and tell me it isn't just perfect for him!! You never really planned on falling for him, ever, but alas, something captivated you - his eyes looking down on you from a height difference, the way he seemed to understand you more than anyone else in certain moments, and how he was adamant to be around you. He was very cocky and confident when you admitted it at last.

ARONDIR ♡ peace

Maybe you come from different backgrounds, but there is nothing that you wouldn't do for each other. He is very protective of you, but he is also cautious because he never wants you to be in danger because of him. Although your relationship can be judged negatively, the only important thing is what the two of you feel for one another - true love.

ELENDIL ♡ labyrinth

Things haven't exactly been easy after his wife suddenly died, and he had mixed feelings about moving on; somehow, with you it was kind of effortless and unexpectedly natural. He struggled with it within himself for some time, but you were understanding and supportive the whole time, and he began feeling much better when he accepted his developing feelings for you.

CELEBRIMBOR ♡ lover

Honestly, he kind of is a magnetic force, and he would also be a total romantic to his partner and spoil them in so many ways. Admittedly, he's lived through a lot of things and challenges, but ending up with you seemed like a reward at the end of everything, and he never wants to let you go.

GALADRIEL ♡ daylight

She certainly has her struggles and her mind can be a very occupied place, so she really didn't expect to find captivating romantic love among all the mess. You bring brightness and warmth to her life like nobody else, and she lights up when she is around you, especially when the two of you are alone.

ISILDUR ♡ blank space

He is still quite young and impulsive, and everything else that comes with it, and also naturally curious and a bit of a troublemaker - never a dull moment. When you two first met, you didn't think it would go anywhere, but quickly you fell for his reckless charm, and decided to give it a go anyways. It's a passionate and unpredictable relationship which can end at any time, but he is so wrapped around your finger that you highly doubt it.

VALANDIL ♡ sparks fly

He is also crazy, young and exciting, but something won't let you let him go. He is aware of his strengths and he knows how to play them exactly right to keep you on your toes and crazy about him. Maybe it isn't the most stable of relationships, but hey, as long as you're having a good time!

GIL-GALAD ♡ gorgeous

He is so royal and classy and naturally, captivated your attention within mere seconds in his presence. At first you might have been a little intimidated (who wouldn't be?) and you had mixed feelings within yourself - he surely already had someone, so you decided it would be best to wait for him to approach you. Years and years later, you both like to jokingly reminisce on those moments.

BRONWYN ♡ new year's day

Life can be tough, and people can be difficult to deal with, but the two of you have each other's back through it all. While you have your arguments and disagreements occasionally, and maybe someone judges your relationship, at the end of the day there is nobody else that the two of you would rather share your troubles with.

ELROND ♡ you are in love

This sweet soul had to get this song assigned to him! Your love bloomed steadily over centuries of close friendship and understanding, you shared a quiet, unspoken bond, and it was just the most natural thing ever. It eventually became difficult to pinpoint when exactly it turned into something more than platonic, because for so long it had been the two of you together, side by side.

✨ taglist my beloved ✨ @lotrnonsense​​​​​​ @starlady66​​​​​​ @queenmeriadoc​​ @entishramblings @thesolarangel @silversword7000 @friendofthefellowshipsnerdblog @averys-place @valkyriepirate @emmaarenstarr @noldorinpainter @asianbutnotjapanese @adamgetawaydriver @fenharel-enaste @ironmandeficiency    @starryeyedrogue​​ @dinofromspac3 ​​  @wisheduponastar @lady-of-imladris @frodo-cinnamonroll @unethicallypleistocene @deadlymistletoe @suncran @high-sea-husbands @asianbutnoteastasian @aidansloth @sweetpea-thoughts

I TAGGED EVERYONE CAUSE IT'S A FOLLOWER SPECIAL OK <3

[erebusbabylon]

I am going to start posting my RoP fanfics that are on Ao3 to Tumblr. Once they are all posted here I’ll make a master list & open requests ☺️

If you want to read my fics in the meantime you can find them on Ao3 under the same username (ErebusBabylon)

I’ve got 2 Celebrimbor x F! reader fics posted (one is a NSFW alphabet for Brimby)

And I have a multi chapter fic in the works that is a Gil-galad x F! Reader / Celebrimbor x F! Reader. I have 11 chapters posted and another few chapters will post tomorrow 🤍

[morganas-pendragons]

Rings of Power Fic Rec List

Disclaimer: I don't read Adar or Sauron fics. I'm sorry! These are all Gil-Galad, Elrond, Celebrimbor, or Arondir (which there haven't been too many of)

None of these are mine, but I will link my master list. Please read the works of these wonderfully talented people! Rings of Power fic is a hard commodity to come by and I've wanted to do this for a bit so everyone can see the works that Tumblr doesn't circulate well.

I'm going to add to this as I go. Please enjoy!

Gil-Galad

Threads (Ft Linnea, @wild-typo-turtle OC!) - Part One (All parts are linked within the greater fic!)

Upcoming (not yet posted, but will be soon): Gil-Galad fic by @tootoomanycats. Check out their blog to get on the tag list!

Blanket by @strawwritesfic

Lovely Thorn - Part I and Part II - by @criticallyinneedofadar

A Lifetime by @emmyspov

By The River's Edge by @mirkwdmstrss

The Sun Had Already Risen by @mirkwdmstrss

Healing Hands by @elronds-meleth-nin

All The Kings Horses by @youlikefanficdontyousquidward

An Unexpected Joy by @criticallyinneedofadar

Elrond

Tower Scrolls by @queers-gambit

Sparring Sessions by @feyhunter78

Hands Up, Palms Out, I'm At Your Mercy Now (smut) by @sanisse

Breathe by @bella-rose29

Tell Me What You Want by @gil-galadhwen

Under the Stars by @temporarily-your-saint

Celebrimbor

Crafted Love by @celebrimbormylove

In This Lifetime by @celebrimbormylove

Sounds Beyond The Night by @celebrimbormylove

Accident at the Anvil by @erebusbabylon

Lemon Cakes by @elronds-meleth-nin

The Craft by @thatlittlered

What's In A Name by @thatlittlered

Finding A New Purpose (OC) by @celebrimborsapron

An Artists Gaze by @criticallyinneedofadar

Lemon Cakes and a Melody by @criticallyinneedofadar

Please, Change The Prophecy (PART ONE AND TWO) by @simone8210

the princess of lindon by @criticallyinneedofadar

AO3 fic recs

healing doesn't happen alone by @fandom-chameleon23

star and stone, or the fall of king gil-galad (oc) by @marshmellin

I could break beneath the weight by @fandom-chameleon23

pain is cold water by @paperxcrowns

star and stone by @marshmellin (this is also on ao3 under the same name!)

Tribute Videos

celebrimbor - @cilyra

[grrrlsubrosa]

I've been outlining a Gil-galad fanfic and would love your thoughts on something!

I created an OC with a backstory to fit into Tolkien’s lore. Since the story takes place in royal courts and titles are used, I’ve given her a name ("Y/N" always takes me out of the story).

That said, it seems like reader inserts are more popular (I enjoy them myself), but since the character has a backstory I think I'd write this more like a role-playing insert than a classic reader insert.

Anyway, I want to make sure this story is as enjoyable as possible before I start writing! Please vote below and thank you so much for your input! If you have any thoughts or advice, I'd love to hear it! 💕

Edit to clarify: Reader inserts normally don't give the MC a backstory or personality. Role-playing inserts gives the MC a backstory/personality/role so it feels more like you're stepping into the shoes of a pre-existing character (Kinda like a blend between OC and Reader insert).

[lady-raidia]

You guys are crazy! 😭 My Gil-Galad story "Forest Heart" blew up the last few days and over 100 people interacted with that post! 😭Thank you so so so much, I can't believe the love you are giving my little story! 😭💕 I know that part 2 was long due, that's why as a little thank you, I finally managed to write the next part for Fores Heart. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! 💕

@lucypaulette @elifereinion - you two left such nice comments, I hope you enjoy part two as well! 😭💕

You can find part one here: Forest Heart

WHISPERS OF A HEART 🌿

Pairing: Gil-Galad x Reader

Summary: Part II of "Forest Heart" - The celebrations are grand but your soul feels tired. When you wander under the moonlight, you get lost in the eyes of the king.

Warnings: None!

🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿

Two days. Two days since your heart and soul stumbled upon the High King in the woods. And for two days you can’t get him out of your head. You still feel embarrassed by being so careless, but the fear that you might have insulted him by not addressing him properly vanished quickly. Yesterday and the day before, Elrond and you spent some time in the gardens, talking about dwarves, eagles and dragons.  After he scolded you for ignoring his words. But while you talked and laughed about various stories you have heard, wandering around to enjoy the sunshine on your face, you could see the king from the distance. On both days he was trying to enjoy a walk but on both days different people gathered around him, asking questions, reporting problems or sharing information. You could see it in his face, his tired soul and shattered mind. But when his eyes met you from a distance, his whole being lit up. It was only for a moment but it electrified your whole body. And the past two days you both spend glancing at each other from far away, while the words you both want to say stay hidden.

But tonight, you have to focus on your friend. The celebrations are in honor of Galadriel and her troop and you have to give her the attention she deserves. The festivities are grand, the food is great and your feet already hurt from all the dancing. You start to feel exhausted by your surroundings, even though the celebrations are far from being over. You excuse yourself, telling your friends that you will be back, that you just need some time for yourself.

You leave the noise of the festivities behind you while you seek refuge in the gardens, breathing in the cool night air. These quiet moments are your home; stepping away from the crowdedness of Lindon, away from the conversations and laughter that feel too far removed from the peace you have known all your life. Tonight, though, the restlessness lingers.

You keep on walking, taking in the sight of the flowers bathing in the moonlight, the grass shimmering with dew. But your attention quickly moves elsewhere. Standing alone beneath a large tree, the moonlight casts a pale glow on his dark hair. It’s him. Gil-Galad. His back is facing you at first, but as you move closer, he turns around as if sensing your presence. Your eyes meet, just like all the times before. Except that there is no one else around—just him and you and the hidden words, that want to leave the darkness. There is a soft smile on his lips, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Something about him feels distant, his mind occupied by thoughts far heavier than you can imagine.

“It is the second time that I have met you under the moonlight.”, he speaks while his eyes never leave yours. “It is peaceful under the moonlight, something we both seem to value.” You pause for a moment, trying to calm your heart which beats stronger and faster with every second. “Do you often seek silence away from others?”, you ask softly, even though you already know the answer. Gil-Galad’s smile deepens a little, though his gaze remains distant. “More often than I care to admit. The burden of a crown is heavy,” he replies, his voice barely above a whisper. He looks toward the trees, the quiet peace of the garden offering no rest from the weight on his shoulders. “But between the trees and under the glimmering moon, I can forget it for a while.” With one hand he reaches out to touch the tree next to him, his touch is gentle, as if he is scared to break something sacred.

Without thinking, entranced by him, you step closer. Your mind does not fully understand why you feel the urge to be closer to him, but your heart already knows. It always knew that fate waited for you under the moonlight. “It is the heaviest of burdens, one that can not be shared. I am glad you can find peace in nature, the leaves may not understand the heavy task that was laid upon you but they can offer a welcoming retreat.” You step next to him, looking at the tree in front of you.

There is a pause, and when he finally shifts his head to look at you, his gaze is soft but searching, as if he is trying to find something within you … “You understand the need for peace.,” he says. “I have seen it in you. It is as though you carry a sense of peace within you that the rest of us have long lost.” His words pull at something inside you, a feeling you thought to have shaken off. “I don’t if it is peace … Perhaps a longing. A longing to belong somewhere. I believe to have found my place between flowers and trees, far away from everyone. But … I am not sure anymore if that truly is where I belong. Or if I belong at all.”, you admit, looking up to the sky before you turn your gaze to the king next to you. His eyes meet yours fully now, and for a moment, the vulnerability inside your soul is gone.

“You are not like anyone I have ever met,” he says quietly, the words almost slipping out before he can catch them. “There is something about you … something I can’t quite explain.” Your heart flutters at his confession, and you take another step closer, close enough to feel the warmth of his presence. “I don’t know what it is either,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “But I have felt it since I arrived.”

The air between the two of you is heavy with unspoken words, but both of your hearts feel a sense of lightness when you are around each other. But the tension grows stronger with desire as his gaze drops to your lips for just a moment before returning to your eyes. His hand almost moves instinctively, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. His touch makes you shiver and you soon realize that you are absolutely bewitched by him.

“You make it easy to forget,” he murmurs, his voice filled with a vulnerability you have never heard from him before. His fingers linger near your cheek, the warmth of his hand a stark contrast to the cool night air. “When I am with you, it is as though the weight of the world disappears.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, all you can do is look at him. The moonlight reflects in his eyes and it is as if you are looking at Valinor itself. The soft glow, the promise of a new dawn, when you allow it – you feel something shift inside of you; a pull stronger than any duty or fear. Without thinking, your hand moves to rest on his chest, feeling his heart beating fast beneath your fingertips.

“I don’t want to be someone who complicates things for you,” You speak with fear but in your chest, you can feel hope. Words don’t matter anymore.

His hand moves to cover yours, holding it gently against his chest. “It is already complicated.”, he admits, his voice low. “But for once, I don’t care.”

And before you can say anything more, he closes the little distance that was left between you, his lips finding yours. The kiss is as tender as the rising sun, as tender as the smell of dewy grass in the morning. The world seems to stop, time suffocates in the softness of this moment, and all you can feel is him – his warmth, his breath, the way his hands gently hold you as if afraid you might slip away.

The kiss is brief, but it leaves you both breathless, your heart racing as you pull back just enough to meet his gaze again. His eyes are filled with the same vulnerability, the same uncertainty that you feel deep in your chest. But there is also hope, a wish for a golden future.

“I shouldn’t –“ he begins, but the words die on his lips, as if even he doesn’t believe them anymore. You shake your head softly, your hand still resting on his chest. “Neither should I,” your voice is trembling slightly. “But maybe … maybe for once, we don’t have to think about what we should or shouldn’t do.”

For a long moment, he says nothing, his eyes searching yours, and then he pulls you close again, resting his forehead against yours. There, in the quietness of the garden, you both hold each other, whispering sweet promises of a new dawn. The moonlight had brought you together and even though the future is uncertain, your feelings are not. The burden of a king remains heavy, but his heart finally found peace in your soul.

[feyhunter78]

Thank you so much lovely! My Gil Galad story is that yn is Erlronds sister, so like her brother she’s half human, and for that she suffers a bit from other elves. Gil Galad has been in love with her from the moment he laid his eyes on her and wants nothing more than to love and cherish her. But she doesn’t think she’s worth it of the King, until he proves her wrong. What do you think?

Of course!!!! This was a great prompt, and I had such a good time writing it!!!

The High-King's Love

You know it’s foolish. You’ve told yourself a million times, and others have chastened you as well for your lofty feelings, but you cannot rid yourself of your love for Gil-Galad any more than you stem the flow of blood from your heart. So, you suffer in silence, knowing that you will never be worthy of him, never be accepted as High-Queen.

How could you be? You are half-mortal, too human for the elves and too elvish for the humans. Your younger brother, Elrond, urges you not to think in such a way, to confess your feelings for Gil-galad and see if he returns them.

The High-King has never married, never been seen with a lover, so reason stands that you may have a chance. But you’re too afraid to take the shot. To pull back the drawstring and let your arrow fly, hoping desperately that it will hit its mark and not fly off into the weeds.

So, you ignore the man, flee conversations with him, hide in your chambers when he calls upon you, and take your meals in solitude. This is partially due to your own fear, and partially in order to cease the cruel whispers.

The others of the court had begun to turn on you, speaking harshly of you behind your back. Whispering that you would attempt to seduce the king with your scandalous half-mortal ways, or that your diluted blood would taint his own pure and royal bloodline and put an end to the great Elven kings.

But it is the rumors of your inadequacy that sting the most. That you cannot cook, or clean, that you have no skill in weaving or battle. That your singing voice is a frog’s croak, your dancing like that of a lumbering bear. All untrue, and you know that in your heart. But when Gil-galad goes out of his way to help you through the steps of a newer dance, or calls for a servant to clean the spilled wine, you feel as if he thinks you a failure as well.

You’re walking in the garden, attempting to get some fresh air and quiet your mind before bed, when you hear them. Lady Aria and Lord Arannis, a married pair who have taken a particular dislike to you and your brother.

“I hear the High-King has called upon her many times, and she refuses to appear.” Lady Aria said, a disbelieving tone to her voice.

“You think that is bad, my love? I was told that he wished to replant all the flowers outside her quarters to be those of her favorite flower.”

“She surely has enthralled him with some strand of mortal lust, a pity her kind is allowed to roam free.”

You bit your lip to muffle your sob, and stumbled backwards, tears blurring your vision as you fled in the opposite direction of their cruel words.

And as luck would have it, you ran right into Gil-galad.

He catches you, his warm hands on your shoulders, his eyes filled with concern. “Lady y/n, what ails you?”

The dam breaks, and you tell him everything, the cruel words, the whispers, your feelings of inadequacy, and most importantly your affections for him. It all comes tumbling out as you sob into his robe.

He cups your face gently, raising your head, your eyes forced to meet his, and he kisses you. It’s soft and sweet and fills you with a steady warmth that dries your tears.

“I love you, y/n, I have longed to speak those words, but have held myself back in fear you would not return them.” He admitted, his forehead resting against yours.

“But I am not fit to be your queen, our people will never accept me.” You whispered, knowing you should pull away but finding yourself unable to.

“Why do you think such things? Because those who are jealous, whisper them in the dark? Leave their darkened hearts in the shadows and join me. Step forward into the light, y/n, I wish for no queen but you.”

You wanted to believe him, truly you were believing him. His calm and steady voice, rich and deep, vibrating through your bones, calming your worrying heart.

His hands gripped yours, and he brought them to his lips. “I will put an end to their words, whether you accept my plea to rule by my side or not. Even if you reject me, it still wounds my heart to see you suffer.”

“You love me?” You asked, looking up at him nervously.

“Yes, you are intelligent and beautiful, kind, and charming. You care for our people even when they are cruel to you, and you have been a loyal heart. I could ask for no better queen.” His words are full of sincerity, and you feel a surge of bravery.

Going up on your toes, you press your lips to his. “I will marry you; I will be your queen.”

He smiles into the kiss and brushes his lips across your forehead before offering you, his arm.

You take it hesitantly, and he leads you back down the path.

“Lady Aria, Lord Arannis, good evening.” He calls to them.

They look surprised to see you on the High-King’s arm but make no comment, simply greeting you both.

“It seems you two will be the first to hear our good tidings.”

“Good tidings, my king?” Lord Arannis asks.

“We are to be married; Lady y/n has finally accepted my proposal.” He smiles down at you.

You smile shyly up at him, biting back a laugh at the shocked looks on the pair’s faces.

“That is—well…very exciting, my king.” Lady Aria stutters, taking her husband’s arm and beginning to pull him away. “We shall spread the good tidings to all we see.”

“Please do. I shall make an official announcement on the morrow.” He calls after the retreating pair.

You giggle and lean into him, “That will certainly change the tide of whispers.”

He wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer.

 You sigh in relief, feeling content, nuzzled into your soon-to-be husband’s side.

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @elronds-pointy-ears, @elrondscalaquendi, @dilf-superiority, @jesticace

[elronds-pointy-ears]

At your Mercy Chapter 7

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

Pairing: Gil-Galad x human! fem! Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1973

Summary: Dramatic elf makes his entrance and cute moment with Gil-Galad. Let the festivities commence.

Thank you for reading 💜

It was a hectic day. You ran from one place to the next. Being the High Kings sort of manager you had a lot to do. Especially the days when his herold was absent. You carried a lot on your shoulders at court. It turned out you were handling it well and the High King appeared to be pleased with the work you managed to get done. Downside was that he had high expectations. He saw your negotiating with other elves, high ranked ones at that and he saw you had a hand for these political matters. You should be proud how far you‘ve come in such a short time but at times like these you would rather just have a simple life with a simple job. Your excellent work had you now running around like a wild chicken because the elven Lord Oropher was yours to take care of.

The elf was a menace. He had much to complain and very little praise for anything. If you had to decide who the most unlikeable elf was you would not have to think long. He stood only 5 feet away from you with his long blonde hair, blowing in the wind. He stood tall next to his kin, head held high and a piercing gaze. „Y/N is it? I want to retreat to my quarters now. Go ahead and tell them to arrange everything!“ You were not sure what exactly he meant so you stood for a moment contemplating what exactly he was talking about. „What are you waiting for? Off you go!“ he commanded. With that you decided to just listen to him and walk straight to the closest maiden. „Excuse me. Lord Oropher sends me to let you know he wants everything  ‚arranged‘ in his quarters?“ you told her with a questioning undertone hinting at your confusion. „Lord Oropher oh my? He is here already? I will take care of it right now. Thank you for letting me know.“ With that she was off leaving you still clueless what he meant by „arranged“. 

Deciding not to dwell on this arrogant elf and his stupid desires for one more minute you went to the first place that came to mind when you thought about a peaceful moment, the big tree you admired so much. After spending the whole day as Orophers personal slave you had had enough. You needed a break, fresh air and just really some peace. 

You made your way up the hill. The sun was about to set and it‘s rays set the land in a golden light. Standing in front of the tree you saw far over the city. The pinkish and orange sky took your breath away. You closed your eyes and you felt your tense shoulders relax. This is more than you initially thought you would get by coming up here but this view was absolutely everything to get your spirits back up. You stood there for a long time just breathing, basking in the warmth of the last rays of light the sun was casting over the lands when you felt a presence next to you. You kept your eyes closed and prepared for someone to interrupt your peaceful moment. A few moments passed and you could not hear anything. Whoever stood next to you granted you a few more seconds of peace. Out of curiosity you decided to open your eyes and see who came to stand next to you.

„Oh. High King“ you blurted. „I uh excuse me your grace I was not aware someone was here.“ you lied trying to smooth out your clothes to make you more presentable. You figured it would be the easiest way out of this situation. „Do not worry Y/N I am just here to do the same as you.“ he said turning his head from looking at you to the far lands ahead. „What I am doing?“ you questioned. Honestly you had no idea what exactly you were doing here. You were just standing around. „You are running away from Oropher.“ he smirked. „I understand how dramatic he can be. I am stressed out as well.“ Another pause. None of you spoke and it was a comfortable silence until Gil-Galad decided to let you in on a tiny piece of information about him no one really knew. „In fact when I am stressed out I come here. It is a peaceful place and usually the only place in the city that can be found free of anyone.“ You turned to face him trying to apologize „Oh I am so sorry I did not know I will not come here if you wish this place to be..“ you babbled but his deep baritone interrupted you „No I am not saying you are unwelcome Y/N.“ he stared back into your eyes. The sun kissed your skin and made it glow in beautiful golden hues. His favorite colour.

„What I am trying to say is that I am grateful you are here. Having to listen to Oropher all day and doing his biddings is exhausting and by handling him you are taking away a lot of that weight from my shoulders.“ You held his gaze. Something about his dark orbs in the light did wonders and you felt drawn to him. „I uh thank you.“ you stammered. His eyes bored into yours and he towered over you, but not in a threatening way. No in a friendly, warm way.

This was the first time you felt relaxed in his presence. Maybe it was the time you spent together, working for him, that you finally got used to it. Maybe it was just the utterly exhausting Oropher who in comparison was way worse than the High King could ever be. Or his soft deep words of gratitude that made your heart swell in your chest. His eyes dipped down to your lips for a moment and your eyes did the same. His lips look so soft and kissable right now. You wondered what they would feel like... STOP!!

You shook your head, feeling your ears heat up from embarrassment. You must have hit your head or something since you‘ve been training with Glorfindel. These inappropriate thoughts had been plaguing your mind recently and it only seemed to happen more often the more time you spent with the High-King. 

Little did you know the High King stared at you for a moment longer than he should have. He saw your expression change quickly and it brought a smile to his lips. He saw your ears turning a slight shade of pink like the sky above and he enjoyed seeing you so flustered.

Before he could think of anything to say to make you blush more you straightened up beside him. „Very well I am going to retire to my quarters now. I am sure Lord Oropher will have demands tomorrow morning so I better not get to bed too late. Have a good evening, your grace.“ With that you turned on your heels and headed back down to your room, leaving the High King pondering.

In the morning you woke up tired and sleepy. You had trouble sleeping. The events from yesterday still clouded your mind and you could hardly get Gil-Galad out of your mind. Even though you were alone in your room, he was present in the back of your head. Everything about him seemed to be so perfect. He was not just nice to look at no. What actually surprised you was, that he was actually a good person in just an attractive body. At first you thought he was as arrogant as any elven King would be. But after a while he showed you more facettes of his true character. He was a King and a ruler to most. But there were many other parts of him hidden behind the facade of the High-King. He proved to be kind and warmhearted. You spent most of the night wondering about the many other sides the great elven King might have hidden behind the mask he wore at all times. 

Oropher was not helping, as he had requested you to accompany him on his morning ride through the woods. After preparing everything for him you had a few minutes of peace riding alongside the blonde elf. All you had to do now was listen to his endless bickering about humans. He disagreed on many things humans did. Especially the way they treated nature and the very place they call home. Destroying more than creating or nurturing their homeland. After a few minutes he paused and just admired the view.

„I have always preferred the woods. They are so calm and eternal. This is where I feel most peaceful. Don‘t you agree Y/N?“ Oropher said, waiting for your response. „I do like the woods as well, yes. They are full of life and mysterious. You never know what to expect behind the next tree.“ you agreed. As much as you wanted to rebel against Orophers opinions you could not disagree because he was simply stating the truth. Humans were awful beings. Sometimes worse than the dwarves could ever be. It was terrifying to think about all the bad things happening at the very moment, somewhere in the world at the hands of humans. And the woods you did not even have to act like you liked them. How could anyone not like the trees that stood in the very place for thousands of years. The rest of the ride was relatively relaxed and not too exhausting. Oropher seemed to be a better company in the presence of trees you thought. 

When you came back to the city you heard Oropher asking for a servant to bring him tea to his quarters and prepare a bath. He talked about not going to the festivities without a proper bath and you nearly facepalmed. You had forgotten about the day. It was the High-Kings birthday. They would hold a ceremony this evening in the High Kings name with music, food and dances. You quickly made your way over to Oropher to ask if he needed anything else. He waved you off, already heading to his quarters. 

Nearly tripping over your own feet you speed-walked to your own to get everything sorted before heading to Elrond and the other elves to make sure everything has been prepared and is ready for the celebration held in about four hours from now on. You found Elrond after a while walking around the many elves running around carrying boxes of wine or fireworks, tables and seats had already been arranged and a dancefloor had formed in between them. „Y/N there you are.“ Elrond came strutting over to you and stood beside you. „How has your day been? I hope Oropher behaved?“ he raised one eyebrow at you. You laughed „Ha, you mean to ask if he ever behaved, right?“. The ellon beside you laughed out loud at that. „Just what I‘ve been thinking,“ he mused. Elrond and you helped wherever a set of hands was needed and slowly the gardens turned into a mesmerizing scenery.

Everyone kept working on decorations and preparations for the evening and after about two hours the splace had changed completely. The party was set to be in the already pretty gardens and beautiful lanterns lit every corner in a warm and welcoming light. Pretty flowers adorned the wooden tables  creating a magical ambience. Soft tunes could be heard from the musicians that had started to play and you headed back to your quarters to get dressed for the occasion. In about 30 minutes the celebration was supposed to start and you needed to clean up a bit, before jumping in a wonderful dark green dress.

Tagging @lotrnonsense​ / @captainbutterflygirl2 @thesolarangel​ @lazymeriadoc​ @bananaphanta​ @betty-not-boop​ @fenharel-enaste @eowyn7023