#glorfindel still usually ends up guarding Elrond

[thesummerestsolstice]

Part four of my series on Rivendell's guards! Wherein I finally talk about why Hrivossa and Celecoll keep getting into arguments. You might want to read parts 1, 2, and 3 first for context.

So we pick up after the siege of Rivendell is broken by Gil-Galad's forces

Among those forces is Hrivossa and her Feanorian faction, who weren't in Eregion when it fell (they were supposed to go as reinforcements later, but never had a chance)

So Hrivossa is very relieved that her lord is alive, obviously, and fully approves of Elrond creating his own little haven in the valley

Anyway then she meets Celecoll

Let me be clear; it is absolute loathing from first sight for those two

Hrivossa is decked out in Feanorian stars, Celecoll is still wearing some old Iathrim armor, they know what they're dealing with, and they're not happy about it

They are both just sensitive enough not to start yelling obscenities at each other in the middle of Rivendell's main courtyard

Especially when Hrivossa finds out that Celecoll has been an impromptu guard for Elrond during the siege (and Celecoll finds out that Hrivossa is normally Elrond's guard)

As far as Hrivossa is concerned, Celecoll is a coward who hid behind the girdle and shamefully ran away when her kingdom needed her most, all while keeping the Silmarils from their rightful owners, and who has no business around Elrond, a good Feanorian lord

As far as Celecoll is concerned, Hrivossa is a remorseless murder who's probably still extremely dangerous, and definitely crass and improper, and who also maybe kept Elrond prisoner(?) and who has no business around Elrond, a good Sindar lord

(Sidenote: a lot of people had issues with Elrond's former jailers basically becoming the basis for his house as a lord but that's another post topic)

I want to be clear both of these people almost immediately made peace with the actual orcs they were now living with and they still hated each other

After a few loud arguments (because a few cups of elvish wine can easily overcome both their abilities to not start yelling at each other) Elrond decides he's had enough and separates them

Alternating schedules where they don't have to see each other, and now they live at opposite ends of the growing city

Problem solved, right?

Wrong!

Celecoll moves next to Hrivossa and they start fighting again

I feel like I should note that half the time they aren't even arguing in the same language

Subjects for discussion include: whether or not Thingol was bad, who the Silmarils rightfully belonged to, and most importantly, who gets to guard Elrond

Can you become a toxic divorced couple without ever being romantically involved? Local elves sure are trying

This cycle repeats several more times before Elrond decides that they clearly, like, need the enrichment from arguing or something

He gets their rooms soundproofed so that their fights don't wake anyone else up and just kind of lets it happen

For some ungodly reason yelling at each other a few times a month actually seems to help both of them be more calm and relaxed the rest of the time

Some things are unknowable, even to the wisest minds, and the reason why they're like this is one of them

[counsellorerestor]

Spring Festival

A continuation of this and this, for @glorfindel-of-rivendell

An air of bustling excitement hangs over the Hidden Valley, even this early in the day. Dawn has only just begun, but Elves are already stirring and beginning their preparations.

Erestor has bathed and washed his hair and moisturised his skin, and now stands before his wardrobe eyeing his options. In the end he dons a cream-coloured under-layer with a dark red robe, embroidered with flowering vines; a slightly more festive choice than his usual plain work robes, though nearly all his clothing is made of rich, comfortable fabrics regardless.

Even as he chides himself for his own silliness, he takes a little more care with his hair than usual, with more elaborate braids holding his hair back from his face and meeting in a knot at the back. He would normally wear a circlet, but he leaves it off today, knowing that Glorfindel has other plans for such adornment; the idea sends a little frisson of anticipation curling through his stomach.

You are older than the Sun and Moon, he reminds himself sternly. You are enjoying the festival with a friend.

But his cheeks are still flushed with excitement as he puts on his usual rings and a pair of ruby drop earrings, and fastens his money pouch to his belt.

The sturdy file and stylus he finally picks up are perhaps not usual festive accoutrements, but the denizens of Imaldris would be surprised to see him without it at a celebration.

He leaves to begin his rounds; first he heads down to the kitchens to look in on the preparation. Loaves of bread, made with the winter barley harvest, and various savoury pasties are being cooled. Potatoes and beets and carrots are being peeled, eggs being boiled and dyed, early apples being baked with cinnamon and honey, and preparations being made to roast game and descale bream and trout. The trade shipment bearing sugar had arrived in time, and - he checks with Thorndûr - the marchpane, a favourite festive treat amongst Elves, has already been prepared.

Satisfied, he moves to the festival fields, where the newly repaired and refreshed pavilions and bunting had been erected a couple of days prior. Tables had been brought out and game areas and tournament fields marked out the previous day, and now the various artisans and games-masters are setting up. Erestor moves among them, glancing through his lists and keeping his ears pricked for any issues.

He corrals and sends a runner to collect more hanging hooks for a panicked artisan trying to set up her display, and helps others shift the markers for a game area to avoid a tree root that had gone unnoticed the previous evening. He has strong words with an Elf who had forgotten to keep an emergency bucket of water by their brazier. He has already ensured that the traders have all been well-billeted, and now he checks that the market area is to everyone's liking, and flags down a guard and sends him back to the House to collect some spare tablecloths for a merchant whose display cloths have been soiled by travel.

This is how festivals usually start for Erestor, and he prefers it this way.

By the time Elrond comes to join him and declare the festival officially open, he is resting briefly by the main pavilions and finishing a goblet of cool cordial.

[bonjour-rainycity]

Double Heart | Chapter Eighteen ~ Cosima

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 4719

Warnings: None

A/n Happy Monday! Oh, and if you like Bucky Barnes, I just posted a one-shot for him! You can find it here. Now, on to the story you came here for!

Late in August, three months after arriving in this new world, plans are made to travel to Lothlórien.

Lavandil’s tearful sniffles in the back of her shop clued me in before someone had officially told me, and my heart goes out to her.

“It gets harder every time,” she had muttered, staring at the ground. “Every time we are separated, a piece of me goes with him.”

Her words have not left my mind since.

They are not even bonded, yet the way not being with him pains her…it breaks my heart in a way that is almost too personal.

Our company is set to leave in five days. In my time here, I have amassed only a small number of belongings, so packing will be easy. I am prepared to go long before the others, who have somehow become busier in these last few days. Even Rumil, who has basically become my best friend these past few months, declines my offer to go riding, citing that he and his brothers have much to do in their remaining time here.

So, with no one to help me occupy my time, I end up in the gardens. I pass the afternoon away wandering through the endless labyrinth, discovering more blossoms that make me sneeze and some that don’t. I pick a few — Elrond said it was alright — to press in one of the journals I’ve acquired — a gift from Lavandil. The journal and the flowers will be keepsakes, tangible memories of my time here in Imladris.

A time I desperately do not want to forget.

In the back of my mind, lurking on the edge of my thoughts is a constant fear — the fear that, at any moment, the work with Elrond will prove fruitful and my memories will come rushing back — at the cost of my memories from my time here in Arda.

A bright, bluish-purple burst under the hedges distracts me from that anxious thought.

A cornflower, fallen to the ground and blown far from its bush by the wind.

I crouch, reaching under the green shrubbery.

“Lady Cosima?”

Flower in hand, I straighten, turning at the sound of the voice.

“Glorfindel!” I’m mildly shocked. Since his argument with Haldir, I’ve seen little of him. Seeming uncertain, he walks to meet me, bowing when he plants his feet.

I curtsey, though I can’t help but chuckle lightly at his formality. “You can just call me Cosima,  you know. I’m not anyone important.”

Glorfindel shakes his head slowly, the edges of a smile playing at his lips. “I would be inclined to disagree with your statement, my dear Lady. It seems you have not only captured the attention of two worlds, but of my elven friends.” Before I can ask exactly what he means by that, Glorfindel furrows his eyebrows, gesturing to our surroundings. “I am surprised to find you here this evening. I would have thought you would be preparing for your departure.”

I twirl the cornflower between my fingers. “There’s nothing much for me to prepare. And it doesn’t seem I can be of much help to the others, either.”

A twinkle enters his eye, reminiscent of the playfulness he had the last time I interacted with him. “So you are trying to soak up all that Lord Elrond’s gardens have to offer?”

I smile, taking a look around. “It’s not a bad way to pass the time. I don’t know if Lothlórien will have all these flowers, so I’m taking a couple with me.” Unnecessarily, I hold up the growing bouquet in my hands. “But enough about me, why are you here at this time of day? Don’t you have a million things to do?”

Glorfindel grins, now fully the man I met upon first arriving here. “Ah, you’ve caught me. I am shirking my duties, but!” He holds up a hand to stop my nonexistent chiding. “I will pay for it tonight. Your Marchwarden and I have plans after dinner to surprise one of the border stations. We are going to creep through the area unannounced and see how long it takes for them to discover us. Surely we will be gone until morning.”

I gulp. My Marchwarden? I try to cover up how much that phrase affects me. “So, are you two back to being friends? Or are you still at odds?”

Thankfully, Glorfindel doesn’t get upset by the words I spoke without thought. “Yes, yes, we have been reconciled for weeks now. It is not uncommon for such strong personalities to disagree. All is well — I would have thought he told you.”

I shrug, trying to make the motion look natural even though I suddenly feel like every eye in Imladris is scrutinizing the movement. “We haven’t had the chance to talk much.”

Glorfindel smirks. “Ah, yes, I wondered why my friend had been even more stern than usual as of late.”

I freeze, and the question escapes my mouth before I can stop it. “What do you mean?”

No, Cosima, I chide. Do not engage!

But Glorfindel has already broadened his grin, evidently happy to indulge my pointless question. “He’s increased drills and border patrols, added requirements for promotions, re-worked the training schedule at least five times — he’s even taken his frustrations out on the guard — I worry more when they fight him than if they were facing a pack of orcs!” He laughs, but, after a moment, his expression softens into one of understanding. “Did something happen between the two of you?”

My eyes drop to the flowers in my hand. I twirl the cornflower again, scrutinizing its color.

It is the wrong shade of blue.

“No, nothing happened,” I respond, still not able to meet Glorfindel’s gaze. His questions and the lack of judgement in his voice lead me to share more than I should. “I…I think we both realized we were headed for something dangerous and it’s better to stop while we can.”

“I see,” he mutters, taking in a deep breath. “I am sorry.”

“Don’t be.” I force a smile, not wanting to dwell on something that already keeps me up at night. Time to change the subject. “I don’t know about you, but I’m quite hungry. Would you like to join me for dinner? Lavandil and Orophin will be there as well.”

His face breaks into an easy smile, though there’s something off in his eyes. He sweeps his hand forward, indicating his agreement. “Lead the way, my dear Lady.”

{***}

I stare at the clothes laid out on my bed, relying on the meager candlelight to tell me what each item of fabric is.

Lord Elrond said I was welcome to take home any of the pieces I wanted, but the space in my bag will only allow for a few of them. Turns out, the choice is harder than I thought it would be. I have no desire to wear the same outfit the whole time like I had to on the journey to Imladris. That means I should pack more tunic and legging sets. But there are so many pretty gowns I want to take — it doesn’t help that, as part of the payment for helping in her store, Lavandil took me shopping a couple of times. I look over my dresses, all equally loved.

I purse my lips. I know Rumil has three bags…perhaps he would be willing to donate one of them to a good cause. Lavandil hasn’t taken him shopping, so surely he has room to spare.

I creep out of my room, mindful to keep quiet at this late hour. Rumil’s likely to be awake — that ellon is a night owl if I’ve ever met one. I reach his door and knock softly.

But when the door opens, it’s not Rumil on the other side.

It’s Haldir.

I stop breathing. His eyebrows shoot to his hairline.

He steps back somewhat robotically, making space for me to enter the room. “Cosima.”

I freeze, unable to connect my brain to my feet to tell them to move. I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “You’re supposed to be gone.”

Haldir opens and closes his mouth, likely figuring out how to respond to something that sounded very much like an accusation. “I—ah, I apologize? Do you want me to—”

“No, I uh—” I look to the ground, trying to gather my hopelessly scattered thoughts. Being near him again takes me right back to the state I’ve tried desperately to avoid. “Sorry, no, I only meant that I ran into Glorfindel a few hours ago and he said the two of you would be gone tonight. I came looking for Rumil.”

“Oh.” Haldir furrows his eyebrows, though it looks like the initial shock has faded. “I am sorry — I sent him out tonight in my place. I planned on using this time to write out instructions for training after I am gone.”

I can’t keep myself from smiling. So dutiful. “That’s nice of you.”

Haldir shrugs, looking thrown by the compliment. “It’s my job.”

I blink, realizing that, both mercifully and sadly, I no longer have an excuse to stay here. I should go.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it.” I take a step back.

“Cosima, wait.”

I halt my exit, but remind myself of my resolve.

Haldir shifts on his feet before rolling back his shoulders, holding the door open with one hand. “I need a break from writing. Would you like to go for a walk?”

Your resolve, Cosima.

I search for any excuse, anything to give me a reason to say no when I so badly want to say yes. “I don’t have my cloak.”

The edges of Haldir’s lips twitch. “Now that, I may have a solution for. Wait here.”

I should go.

Just wait to see what this ‘solution’ is, I rationalize.

Haldir turns and nearly jogs to the wardrobe, burying his upper half inside until he emerges with a sage green bundle. He returns, presenting the neatly folded fabric to me. “This is for you.”

I blink in surprise, taking the bundle from his outstretched hand. Slowly, I unfurl it, and it falls into a sturdy, finely woven cloak. I look up at Haldir and then back to the garment, unsure of why he’s just handed me this, but nonetheless, pleased.

“You cannot wear your red one while we travel,” he explains. “This will blend in much better with our surroundings. Lavandil advised on the measurements, but if it’s too long, there’s still time to get it hemmed before we leave.”

I smile, running my fingers over the soft interior and the slicker outside. “What’s it made of?”

“Wool, but I asked the seamstress to assist in making it as waterproof as possible.” I look up at him sharply, surprised that he would think to include this. “I worry we will encounter rain again and I would hate to have you shivering like last time.”

I run my fingers over the fabric with a new fondness. I’m grateful and more touched than I would like to admit. “Thank you Haldir, really. This is so thoughtful. And practical.” I can’t help but laugh, looking up at him with a sudden onslaught of nerves. “Just like you.”

He smiles almost bashfully, dipping his head in acknowledgement of my words. “I’m glad you like it.”

I swing the cloak around my shoulders, pulling my hair through the back so it lays against the outside of the fabric. Haldir grabs the bag that rests on the hook by the door and retrieves another one of those beautiful leaf-shaped clips. He steps forward and slowly reaches his hands to where my cloak rests along my collarbones. He gathers the fabric and weaves it through the clip, securing the ends. He rests his hands there for just a moment and then steps back, nodding to himself.

“Perfect,” he breathes.

I blink. I have a cloak now. There’s no reason to say no. “Let’s go for that walk.”

Smiling in a soft, hesitant way, he grabs his own cloak and clip from their place near the door and we step outside of his room. In silence, mindful of the late hour, he leads me down a spiral staircase tucked into a corner I’ve never noticed before. As we descend, the sound of water crashing gets louder and the peace of the estate fades.

I halt and, a few stairs below me, Haldir stops too.

“Are we going below the city?”

He looks up at me — I can barely see his face in the dark. “It is perfectly safe — there are no heights to be conscious of.”

It feels wrong to make sound in the darkness, so when I speak, it’s barely more than a whisper. “Okay. I believe you.”

In the dim light, Haldir’s hand reaches up to me. I stare at it, feeling my jaw fall slightly.

“I think you will like where we’re going.” The darkness, the sound of his voice, just being with him after so much time apart — it’s too much.

I exhale a shallow breath.

I place my hand in his.

Tingles shoot up my arm.

We reach the bottom of the staircase, and he doesn’t let go.

It’s dark here, too, and I find myself drawing nearer to him. My arm brushes his and I suck in a breath, both of us laughing nervously. Haldir seems to know the way. His path is confident and sure as he leads us underneath the stone and earth of the city. Then, in a burst of clear blue light, we break from the darkness and arrive on soft grass.

I can see Haldir better now. Everything about him seems to almost glow in the moonlight. He smiles softly, tugging on my hand to encourage me to follow him closer to the water that lies ahead of us. I glance between us to where our hands meet, wrapped around each other.

It feels natural. It feels right.

I should let go.

I grip his hand tighter.

The stone holding up the city gives way to taller grass and trees whose low, swinging branches brush over us as we pass. Ahead lies a rippling lake — across it, waterfalls crash down, their thunderous roar diminished by the distance. Haldir takes us almost to the edge of the shore, then surprises me by pulling me to the left. We duck under a particularly low branch, Haldir almost having to double over completely. I laugh, bending down next to him, and he looks up at me with a carefree grin. We pass under the branch and emerge in a small clearing — an alcove, really. Behind us and to our left are tall, leafy trees, to our right is the stone of the mountain, and ahead, surely for miles and miles, lies the lake. Moonlight dances atop it, glinting in a way that makes it sparkle. And above it, in an endless stretch of sky—stars, a million of them, at least.

Haldir turns to face me.

I suck in a breath.

His eyes — I’ve always admired them, even when they held nothing more than indifference to me — seem to shine in a way I’ve never seen before. They gleam like living starlight, depthless and enchanting. The colors of the night drape him in a glow of soft blue, highlighting the strong edges of his jaw. He looks powerful, beautiful, otherworldly.

This is the first time I’ve truly understood the etherial beauty of an elf.

He smiles down at me expectantly. “Was I right?”

I exhale somewhat shakily, nodding my head. “Yes. Yes, you were right. This place is stunning.”

His smile broadens and he releases my hand to unclasp his cloak.

I miss the warmth of his hand encasing mine.

But I do get my wish from earlier today. Just as he did all those months ago, he lays his cloak on the ground, gesturing for me to sit. I do, folding my legs to the side to allow him room next to me. Before he can say anything, the nerves get the best of me, and I blurt out the first, most basic question that comes to mind. “How was your day?”

He smiles, stretching his legs out on the cloak. “My day went well, thank you. Glorfindel and I spent this morning debating the merits of extending Elrond’s borders by twenty or so miles — it would mean the guards have more land to protect, yes, but it would also provide a larger distance for any intruders to cross, should they break through the barrier. That could give the guard precious extra time to organize and combat the threat.”

I tilt my head. “So what did you decide?”

Haldir raises his shoulders then lets them fall, the action hinting at underlying stress. “It is not our decision, we were merely debating. The choice lies with Lord Elrond, and I cannot say what he will do.”

I chuckle, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. “You’re always steps ahead of everyone else. Come on, what do you think he’ll do?”

He sighs. “I think he will not expand the borders. Elrond cares about the security of his people, yes, but he still believes there is potential to stop this evil before his people will have to confront it.”

Tension gathers in the small of my back. Are we really that close to a fight? “And you disagree?”

“I did not mean to scare you.” He avoids answering my question directly.

I shake my head slowly, thinking over his words. Wary, yes, but scared? “I have gotten tougher, you know.”

Haldir smiles and lets out a soft laugh. "Now, that, I would have to agree with." He rolls his sleeve up to his bicep and holds out his arm. I squint in the moonlight, trying to make out whatever he's attempting to show me. "See this?" I shake my head, and Haldir laughs more freely now. "It is almost a bruise from where you hit me two days ago."

Now, I join him in his laughter, remembering my attempt to break free from his grasp during training. “You better watch out," I joke. "Soon I'll be able to put you on the ground."

Haldir schools his laughter but the edges of his lips stay quirked. "I'm sure."

I snort. “No, I actually believe that someday soon I’ll be able to beat you. Or, at the very least, catch you off your guard.”

I don’t actually believe that, of course, but it’s worth the exaggeration to see Haldir’s terrible attempt at pretending to agree with me.

“Ah, perhaps, yes. I would not entirely rule the possibility out.”  

“Liar.” I roll my eyes and grin good-naturedly.

He merely holds my gaze with a smile of his own and raises an eyebrow.

I shudder out a breath. I wish he wouldn’t look at me that way. It makes me want things I absolutely can’t act on.

I force my eyes to return to the water, searching for a way to expel the tension that has somehow gathered in the air. “What made you want to come here?”

He shrugs, leaning back on one hand in a way that is almost arrestingly casual, because I do not feel casual. “It’s peaceful, it’s away from the bustle of the city…and it reminds me of home.” He smiles, craning his head back to view the moon and the stars. My eyes follow the length of his neck before correcting themselves to also look at the stars. “In Caras Galadon we live in talans built high in the branches. Common spaces and guest lodgings take up entire trees, wrapping around trunks and connecting with bridges. But my home is smaller, and all the way at the top of one of the oldest and tallest trees in the city…I can look up and I see the stars. It’s like I walk among them, I am so close. And here, though we are quite low on the ground…” His eyes drop to mine. I listen intently, captivated by the love he feels for his home so clearly expressed in his voice. “This feels somehow similar, like it is just you, me, the forest, and the sky.”

The words, ill-thought and reckless, rush from my mouth. “I like it being just us.”

His head dips closer to mine. “Me too.”

Our noses brush against each other. We are so close, so close to losing ourselves in something we cannot control.

I will bring nothing but pain to him.

I pull back just enough to see his eyes, hating the spark of hurt that runs through them. But I ground myself in that, use it as a warning of what is to come if I don’t stop this now.

But stopping hurts me, too. Because I want him. I want to be with him, to be his forever, more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my entire life. Memories or not, this, I’m sure of.

And I can’t have it.

Tears prick at my eyes.

Haldir’s hurt turns to concern and he trails a finger tenderly over my cheek, soothing and catching a tear that has managed to fall. “What’s wrong?”

I swallow, trying to force away the painful lump that has grown there. I can manage little more than a whisper. “You don’t want to do this with me.”

He shakes his head and brings a hand to my lower back. He presses gently, keeping me in place as if he knows I’m trying to find a way out, to talk us both out of doing this. He lowers his head to look directly into my eyes. “Yes, I do.”

I turn my gaze to the waterfall, not able to bear looking him in the eye. “Haldir, I’m temporary. To your lifespan, I…I’m nothing. Don’t waste your love on me.” And something I can’t say, something I’m too weak to admit out loud — don’t waste your life on me.

He brings a hand to my chin, pulling me to meet his eyes. What I see there takes me aback — a fierceness akin to how he looked during the attack. “It’s not a waste, it’s a choice. And I’ve chosen, Cosima. I want this, I want you.”

I shake my head, the tears falling freely now. I bring a hand to grip his wrist, trying to break his hold of my face. He follows my request but immediately takes both of my hands in his, refusing to let me go completely.

He speaks in a low, urgent voice. “Cosima, believe me, I tried. I’ve stayed away from you, I’ve tried to convince myself that there are others, that there could ever be someone else for me. I’ve distracted myself with training and planning and patrols but nothing works. Every day, I wake up and I ache for you.”

I close my eyes, all at once elated to hear those words and grieving his choice. Because loving him is the most selfish thing I’ll ever do.

“I wish I didn’t want this,” he continues. “I know what it means for me. Every instinct for self-preservation is screaming at me to stop, to run away, to fight this—”

“Then do,” I beg, trying to convince both him and myself. “Save yourself while you still can.”

Slowly, deliberately, he pulls his hands from mine and rests them on either side of my neck, thumbs brushing over my cheekbones. Despite my efforts, I suck in a breath, my heart beginning to race.

He’s so close, so honest, so…loving. He looks at me with the same reverence he reserves for the stars. He lets out a breath, eyes trailing down my face before meeting mine once more. “It is too late,” he murmurs, lips parting slightly. “I’ve fallen in love with you.”

And my resolve breaks.

I push myself forward to close the minuscule space between us, pressing my lips against his. He responds immediately, kissing me with a passion that sends tingles down my spine. His hold on me feels like fire, starting where his hands caress my neck, where his lips meet mine, and running through my entire body. My hands gather in the fabric of his tunic, pulling him impossibly closer. My mind fights between short-circuiting due to the feel of his lips on mine and shouting for joy. Never in my life have I felt so right, so secure, so…electric. Gone are the days of holding myself back, of distancing myself, torturing myself, staying away from the one I truly want to be with.

The one I love.

My back makes contact with the cloak covering the ground. Did I fall and pull him along, or did he push me? All efforts of solving that mystery disappear the moment he takes my lower lip between his teeth, biting down gently. I gasp, my grip on his tunic tightening. The hand that rests on the ground near my side, supporting his weight, curls into a fist.

His kisses slow.

He presses his lips to mine again, this time, as gentle as a breeze. I sigh into the kiss, my hand trailing slowly down his chest. For the first time in all my memory, I know that I am exactly where I am supposed to be.

And I am with who I am meant to be with.

Haldir’s lips leave mine. He balances his weight on one arm and his knees, bringing his free hand to my face to softly brush his fingers over my cheek. Slowly, I open my eyes.

Above me is perhaps the best and most beautiful sight I will ever see. A blanket of stars, brilliant and expansive, floats across the night sky. And in front of them, mere inches from my face, is Haldir, looking at me with a wide, adoring smile. I raise my head to bump my nose against his, earning myself a rumbling chuckle.

He shakes his head slowly. “The relief I feel, finally being able to tell you that I love you, to kiss you…”

I breathe out a weak laugh, knowing exactly what he’s describing. “I wouldn’t call what I feel relief.”

He grins and dips his head to mine, stopping just before our lips touch. “Yes, it is certainly not a peaceful relief. But I much prefer whatever this is to peace.”

“I agree,” I sigh into his mouth as his lips move against mine once more. But then I remember something, and push against his shoulders. He’s said his piece, now I get to say mine. “Hey, for the record, I love you too.”

He laughs indulgently, shaking his head, but I can see real joy lighting his eyes. “And yet you kept me in such suspense.”

I roll my eyes and grip his tunic, pulling him down again.

When we break apart, he falls onto his back next to me. I’m struck once again with the memory of us stargazing in Elrond’s gardens so many months ago. Then, I spent the whole night fighting the urge to cuddle against his side.

Now, it seems, that door is not closed to me.

Experimentally, I scoot closer to him. When he smiles rather than questions it, I pick up the arm nearest to me, moving it so I can lay against his side. He tenses, then sputters out a laugh, but doesn’t push me away. Instead, he cranes his head so he can see me and I grin up at him, happy to see that he wears a matching expression.

He raises an eyebrow. “Is this what the humans do?”

“Yes,” I smile up at him, pleased that being this close to him feels even better than I could have imagined. “It’s called cuddling.” I rest my head on his chest. In the silence of the night, I can hear the steady, reassuring beat of his heart.

After a moment, his hand comes to the back of my head, running his fingers gently over my hair and down my back. “Surprisingly, I like the human way.”

I smile, tucking my head further into his chest.

I stare at the sky.

And try not to think about what I’ve just done.

A/n YAYYYYYYYYY 

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[oldtowrs]

YOU BRAID THEIR HAIR

elves of middle earth edition (prt.1/?)

a/n: okay so this is my first time writing head canons so we’ll see how this goes. also i didn’t follow the prompt exactly. i just changed the relationship of the reader from friend to s/o or love interest of the elves below. hope that’s okay. ALSO!!! SEND ME REQUESTS FOR HEAD CANONS! i think its something i want to start doing but obviously can’t if no one requests anything. so please send me anything for any of the characters in the sherlock, tolkien, harry potter, star wars or doctor who universes!

for @lady-of-lies

ELROND

it would definitely take elrond some time to be comfortable enough with you to allow you to start braiding his hair

but once he’s comfortable, you best believe he asks you to do it every day

it relaxes him and allows him to give up his stresses, even if only for a short time

elrond, being the elf he is, cares too much about every duty he has as the lord of imladris, and being able to relax and melt into your touch gives him an infinite amount of happiness

the intricacy of your braiding earns elrond plenty of compliments and each and every one of them brings a delicate smile to his face as he thinks about the lovely elf that plaited love into his heart as well as his hair

GLORFINDEL

glorfindel takes a lot of pride in his hair and so any braid he asks for his very elegant

he is a warrior, yes, but he is a lord as well, and he admires delicacy and elegance endlessly

any hairstyle he asks of you is always practical, but beautiful

your braiding skills always leave glorfindel with plenty of elleths to fawn over him, but his heart lies with the only one he trusts to braid his hair, you

glorfindel definitely has some ptsd from his fight with balrog during the fall of gondolin and so anyone touching his hair puts him on edge and occasionally sends his mind flying back into the past.

but, over time, glorfindel had learned to trust you, and his trust was shown in the relaxed state he assumed whenever your nimble fingers met his golden hair

LINDIR

lindir is always so shy whenever he asks you to braid his hair

and when you do, he blushes the entire time

he loves you more than anything and you love him just the same, and that love is evident in the precision and the care you take in braiding his hair

his hair is always pristine and he thanks you endlessly both in words and in kisses

lindir is definitely one more for simple designs, but you still make them look amazing anyway

lots of kisses are exchanged as you braid his hair

when you’re done braiding his hair he’ll kiss your fingertips and envelope you in the warmest and loving of hugs

LEGOLAS

legolas is such a soft boi and it shows when he asks you to braid his hair, and in his eagerness in braiding your hair in return

he is a smiling ball of sunshine the entire time, despite what he’s seen defending mirkwood and the pain that came with the loss of his mother early on in his life

legolas’s hair is always very practical. two simple braids on the sides connecting to one in the back is his usual style.

and while he could definitely do his own hair, he goes to you out of love and in need of a reason to see you

you happily braid his hair each and every time

occasionally, legolas will take you somewhere beautiful outside of mirkwood’s borders just to be with you.

in these small adventures, if you happen across a field of flowers, you best believe legolas will ask to braid flowers into your hair

at the end of those adventures, you both look like you carried the entire field back to mirkwood in the strands of your hair

THRANDUIL

thranduil is passionate, probably the most of any elf. he is the kind of lover that views his s/o as the most divine being to ever grace the halls of the great elven lords and ladies’ and those of the valar themselves. you would be the point around which his whole life revolve

however, while he may desire the divine, he also desires the simple. 

and so you braiding his hair gives him the best of both worlds. 

you are his queen of pure divinity, the elleth to whom his heart belongs and to whom his undying love is devoted to indefinitely. 

and yet, when you weave even the simplest of plaits into his hair as you both sit on the balcony connected to his chambers, watching the sky become a masterpiece of soft hues as the sun rises and sets, his heart is filled with the most simply pure, domestic love possible. 

he can feel the care in your touch and the love in your heart as you lace your fingers through the platinum strands of his hair and he basks in the feeling, as if you were the sun and he was a man who hadn’t felt the warmth of sunshine on his skin for millenia. 

at first, he asks you to braid his hair every night before he crawls in bed with you and holds you close all night long, but over time, it just becomes part of your daily routine. 

he’ll come home from a long day of dealing with advisers and guards and slide tiredly onto the small stool in front of the vanity that sits in your room and you develop the habit of walking to his side, grasping his shoulders gently, kissing him on the cheek and getting to work on working out the minute tangles in his hair and the tense knots of stress in his shoulders. 

if you kiss the very top of his head after your done, expect him to immediately stand from the stool, whisk you into his arms and either spin you around in a hug or just stand before you, gently clinging to you, depending on what kind of day it had been 

all in all, he loves you braiding his hair just like he loves you: more than anything. 

[ladylouoflothlorien]

Unexpected Destiny #2

Dwalin x Female!Reader

2110 words

Woah, part two posted in the same week as part one? Who is she I don’t know her. Anyway, here is part two for those of you who seemed to really enjoy this when I posted part one. I’ve got terrible great things planned for the rest of this fic. One final thing before you go on to read so you’re not confused, don’t worry, Dwalin’s conversation with Gandalf will be delivered to you in juicy detail in part 3. Enjoy!

Somehow they’d ended up at Rivendell, much to the chagrin of both the dwarves and [y/n], who had wished to never set eyes upon that place again. When Elrond had first greeted the dwarves, she’d ducked down in the centre of the dwarves and hidden so that he could not see her face, and though the elf had known exactly who she was without being able to see, he’d been kind enough to pretend he hadn’t and that he thought the odd behaviour was a product of the dwarves being overly protective of females.

Whilst the company was settling at Rivendell and the elves left them alone for a bit, [y/n] began to make an effort to get to know the company, though she found herself stubbornly sticking close to Gandalf as often as she could. Consequently, Dwalin had been given little opportunity to ask Gandalf any of the multiple questions swirling around in his brain. Most importantly, he had two main questions that he wanted answers to.

First, why had he felt some kind of reaction when he’d touched the casket’s lid but none of the other dwarves had the same reaction? Second, why did he feel a certain pull towards this human? Although Dwalin wasn’t entirely sure if the second question should really be asked or whether that was something more personal that he should really figure out for himself.

In any case, the first of the two questions continued to bother him more and more as time passed, and Dwalin was determined to get [y/n] away from Gandalf for long enough to interrogate the frustrating wizard.

In order to do this, Dwalin enlisted the help of two of the most mischievous dwarves… the young princes, Fili and Kili. In truth, he threatened them into helping him get [y/n] away from the wizard, but past that he’d left it up to the two young dwarves to come up with exactly how they were going to do that.

[Y/n] had point-blank refused to attend the dinner the elves were hosting for them that night; she still wasn’t ready to face Elrond and any of the other elves who would recognise her. After realising that this was an occasion when [y/n]’s stubbornness would not be out-matched – even by a dwarf – the dwarves all swore to sneak food into various pockets to bring her back enough for a proper meal.

“No member of my company will go without a proper meal.” Thorin’s words were eagerly echoed by the rest of the company, including one extremely insistent hobbit (although given the meal of rabbit food they were about to be served, they’d soon think that none of them were going to get a ‘proper’ meal whilst they were staying with the elves.)

As the company - minus [y/n] – made their way towards where they would be eating, Dwalin couldn’t help but feel a tiny thrill of excitement. This dinner could give him the perfect opportunity to quiz Gandalf without [y/n] being present. Maybe he wouldn’t need the young princes and their ridiculous schemes to distract [y/n] after all. Imagine his disappointment when Gandalf wasn’t even sat at the same table as him. He still enjoyed the dinner, all of the company did. What with the terrible food and their knowledge of the elves’ treatment of [y/n], they tried their best to be as rowdy and disruptive as possible.

Dwalin hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to Gandalf at the dinner due to their seating arrangements – yet another reason to dislike the elves – but this unfortunately meant that he now had to rely on the childish schemes of Fili and Kili to get [y/n] away from Gandalf.

Being as they were, in Rivendell, the two princes had to hash out a rather crude plan… or at least they thought they had to. That was until they were discovered scheming by two very special elves – Elladan and Elrohir. The two dwarves were instantly on their guard, naturally. They’d been taught to hate elves since birth, and this had only been reinforced by hearing [y/n]’s story. Despite this, there was a certain energy coming from the two male elves that they related to.

“What are you two doing?” One of the elves asked, only for both Fili and Kili to shoot back at the same time. “Who are you?!”

The response that they received was so startlingly like the way they themselves usually greeted strangers that it almost made their beards fall off.

“Elladan and Elrohir at your service, young dwarf masters.” Though their bows were more graceful and less energetic than the bows that Fili and Kili usually blessed people with, they were still completely synchronised. The two dwarves blinked, looked at each other, then back to the elves before rising to give their own greeting.

Something about [y/n] that should, perhaps, have been mentioned earlier was the fact that she really didn’t like to dress like a lady. There was something about the way that women were treated by most males in middle earth that just got on her last nerve. Sure, there was a level of respect that was nice and she didn’t have to worry about her ‘honour’ when she was around males for the most part, but still, being treated like a delicate flower all the time was pretty annoying. Especially when she’d been taught how to fight by Glorfindel himself.

To try and distance herself from this treatment, [y/n] had taken to wearing what was considered ‘mens clothing’. To the credit of the dwarves, so far they hadn’t treated her any different to how they treated the hobbit, and so [y/n] was satisfied that the way they treated her was more to do with their (mistaken) belief that she didn’t know how to protect herself than her gender. Then again, she’d been put into that casket in her usual get-up of mens clothing and [y/n] believed that it was entirely possible they hadn’t really registered that she was a woman yet.

Why is this information necessary now? I’ll tell you, because this information is necessary to understand the prank that the dwarf brothers and the elf twins had come up with.

[Y/n] couldn’t cling to Gandalf forever – she needed to bathe after all. This could have given Dwalin the opportunity he needed, except [y/n] always bathed extremely quickly and the topics Dwalin wanted to discuss seemed sensitive enough that the thought of having [y/n] burst in during the discussion turned the warrior’s ears pink. So when [y/n] went off to bathe Fili and Kili sprang up and followed after her sneakily, nodding to Dwalin, who got up to talk to Gandalf as soon as [y/n] was fully out of sight.

When Fili and Kili found the room where [y/n] was bathing, they found the two elves they’d sort of befriended already waiting outside for them.

“Here.”

One of the elves – Elladan – handed a bundle of clothes to Kili, whilst Elrohir offered an explanation.

“This belonged to [y/n] when she lived here, so we know it’ll fit.” The two elves laughed quietly, trying to keep their voices down so as to not alert the woman bathing behind the door they were all standing in front of.

The dwarven princes had a look of confusion etched onto their faces that was almost enough to make the elves laugh still more, but they managed to contain themselves. This time, Elladan was the one to explain.

“This dress is the only one left. Lord Elrond kept trying to convince [y/n] to wear her dresses – at least for dinners and special occasions – and he kept replacing her clothes with dresses whilst she was sleeping. In retaliation, [y/n] piled all her dresses up in the courtyard and set them on fire. This dress only survived because it was away being altered.” By the end, both Fili and Kili were grinning widely.

“From the little we know of her, that does sound like something she’d do.” Fili managed to get out through this own half-silent chuckles.

“Enough now.” Elladan quickly hushed everyone. “You haven’t got much time, go now, and hurry!”

As the two dwarves opened the door to the room, Elladan and Elrohir skedaddled, knowing that there would be dire consequences from this little prank and they didn’t want to be caught up in [y/n]’s inevitable anger.

As they crept into the room, the dwarves were relieved to find that [y/n] was facing away from them, and that her pile of clothes was within reach. Fili made a grab towards the pile and at the same time Kili put the folded dress down. The two princes bolted, barely having the presence of mind to try and close the door quietly. They knew they didn’t have long before they were discovered.

[Y/n]’s eyes snapped open. She’d accidentally fallen asleep in the middle of her bath, and now she’d woken up with a strong feeling that something wasn’t quite right. She got out of the bath and dried herself off with the towel provided. It felt strange being back in Rivendell knowing it’d been hundreds of years since she’d been there but it felt like mere hours. It was only when [y/n] went to dress herself that she realised what was wrong specifically.

Fili and Kili had made their way back to the common room where the rest of the dwarves were, gaining a concerned look from Dwalin who was still having hushed conversation with Gandalf in a far corner. The princes merely gave him a thumbs up and mouthed at him to continue.

Moments later, [y/n] came rushing into the common room wearing the very same dress that had been left for her – she couldn’t just run around the place totally naked now could she? Her eyes focused on the two dwarves who she thought were capable of doing such a thing, and not to her surprise Fili was still holding an incriminating pile of clothes on his lap. The two princes instantly sprang to their feet and ran off, though Fili still clutched to the bundle of clothes like his life depended on it.

[Y/n] dashed across the room and hurried after them. The members of the company remaining in the room all laughed and shook their heads before returning to what they were doing before. Well, all except Dwalin, who had been left with a very confusing mix of emotions, and it had taken Gandalf several minutes to snap the warrior back to reality so that they could continue their discussion.

[Y/n] chased Fili and Kili for almost half an hour before the two of them accidentally ran head first into a wall. Kili woke up to see his brother’s body being pulled in all sorts of directions and it looked absolutely back breaking. Kili tried to move but found that his wrists and ankles were bound.

“What are you??”

“I’m Sorry, I’m Sorry!” Fili yelled back, desperately trying to squirm away and failing miserably.

Kili, realising he was next, started yelling that he was sorry as well. [Y/n] paused, holding Fili in a fixed position to look over at Kili.

“Don’t think you’re getting out of this.” She raised her hand and dramatically pointed an accusatory finger at the younger dwarf. “Sorry isn’t gonna help you when I kick your ass!!!”

When you marched the princes back to the common room almost an hour later you were dressed once again in your regular clothes, whilst Fili and Kili were stuffed into incredibly ill-fitting elvish dresses. They were sore and felt ridiculous, but they were already formulating a plan to get some type of reward from Dwalin for their suffering.

[Y/n] just looked smug as she dropped herself beside Bilbo and effortlessly slid back into the conversation she’d been having with him before she’d gone to bathe as if nothing had happened.

Dwalin, who had finished his conversation with Gandalf by that point, couldn’t pretend that the manner of the princes’ return didn’t amuse him, though he did feel a tiny bit sorry for them. The other dwarves found it hilarious, and they began badgering Fili and Kili into telling them what happened and eventually, two very grumpy and very uncomfortable young dwarves recalled the events for the rest of the company to hear. All of them went to sleep that night with their cheeks aching from laughter. Dwalin had, of course, also been highly amused when he’d heard the particulars, though he’d found himself more impressed by [y/n]’s display of stamina and strength.

“That’s my kind of woman.” He thought to himself just as he was settling down for the night. Wait… what?!

Permanent tags:

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Unexpected Destiny tags:

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[bonjour-rainycity]

Double Heart | Chapter Seventeen ~ Split

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 1482

Warnings: None

A/n Hello hello! I know it’s not one of my normal update days, but this one is short, so enjoy this angsty bonus chapter!

Cosima

Weeks pass in routine. In the mornings I research with Alex or study Sindarin alone, sometimes venturing into the garden or library to occupy my time. The lunch hours are typically spent in the company of friends, and Lavandil and I have been passing many of our afternoons together in her shop. As the summer continues, business only grows, and I can see why she asked for the help. Her art is quite popular! She tried to teach me how to weave and, unsurprisingly, I’m terrible. So I mainly help clean and work with the customers.

Three nights a week, Alex, Baranor and I meet in the library and continue our lessons. On that, I actually am making progress. It’s allowed me to converse with Lavandil’s customers in their own language. It’s also helped me feel much more self-sufficient here. No longer must I have to rely on Lavandil or Rumil to translate when we go out. Ellyn I speak with still have to slow their words and repeat things several times, and sometimes I must ask for clarification, but the progress really is liberating.

Two days a week, right after breakfast, Alex and I meet Elrond in his study.

Lord Elrond insists on using the power in his fæ to attempt to aid us in recovering our memories. I hate to admit it, but his efforts are wasted and, on my part, not really wanted. Besides the memory of Mara and Nonna, I don’t remember anything, and at this point, I’m not sure I want to. I’m already too attached to the people here, and I’ve seen where that’s gotten me. I don’t want to remember people from home — love them, miss them, and then realize I can never return to them.

I don’t make much progress, anyway. Most days, Alex and I have nothing but headaches and exhaustion to show for our work. Every now and then, one of us will remember something small — a passing event or an aquauntaince from childhood — but nothing of real interest. Elrond agrees that the headaches and exhaustion are signs that we are not yet healed from whatever ordeal resulted in us arriving in Arda. He’s been keeping an eye on our fæs — apparently they are somehow injured — and says that the original wounds are all but healed.

Alex’s progress is less encouraging. His old wounds are healing, but nearly every time Elrond or Baranor checks, there’s a new injury. They don’t know what’s causing it, but privately, I have a theory. While Alex says he’s accepted this world, knowing him, there’s a part that’s still hanging on to our homeworld. Maybe that’s causing too much stress to allow him to heal. Because I’m healing, and I’ve fully accepted this world for what it is — impossible, different, but real.

And then at night time, training continues with Haldir.

I am careful to keep distance between us except when absolutely necessary. By the way he does the same, he’s recognized the urgent precariousness of our situation. As much as I want to confess the feelings I keep so tightly bottled up inside, to fall into his arms and ask him to love me forever, I cannot.

Because my forever is abysmally different than his.

So I keep my distance.

My effort to avoid excessive contact or time with him is helped by the fact that, not long after our first training session, he became incredibly busy. Though relations between him and Glorfindel are still tense, the two work tirelessly to train the newer guard. Often, by the time I make my way down to breakfast, Haldir is long gone, off to lead drills.

The distance between us hasn’t helped my internal predicament.

Too often, I catch myself following the line of his jaw, remembering the feeling of his arms wrapped around me, wanting to return to that excitement of just the two of us under the stars.

I don’t act on these thoughts, nor communicate them to anyone, though Lavandil certainly tries to break that resolve. She’s adamant that, even with my lifespan to consider, it is better to spend the time we have together in happiness rather than holding ourselves back from something that could be great.

I forcefully disagree.

I’d rather cause myself a little pain now than put Haldir in a position where he could be broken later.

Surprisingly, Rumil, once my tormentor, has become my closest ally. Any time someone attempts to bring up the subject of me and Haldir, Rumil promptly shuts it down, usually changing the subject to something outlandish enough to properly distract everyone. He kindly occupies my newfound free time and we go riding together at least once a week. Since Rumil has Roch, Haldir allows me to take Faervel out, and, where the horse used to be indifferent towards me at best, he now whinnies in greeting the second I set foot in the stables.

My life in Imladris is nice. It’s peaceful. It’s filled with wonderful friends and so much to discover. And I’m happy, there’s no doubt about that…even if something is missing. I caught my feelings early and took preventative action by distancing myself from Haldir, which is good…but it’s…unfulfilling, in a way, to stay far from him. I miss eating meals together and talking about our days before training sessions. I miss constantly having him around. I miss him teasing me and moments where it’s just us.

I miss him.

But I won’t lose my resolve.

If my sadness can save Haldir pain, then I will bear it.

{***}

Haldir

Summer in Imladris passes quickly. My days revolve around training the newer guard, and they show promising progress. Lothlórien’s borders are much more extensive than that of Imladris’, and I am confident adopting some of the techniques I use with my wardens at home to fit Elrond’s guard will help them be more prepared when the orcs attack again. My brothers have been indispensable, kindly offering their help and allowing me to use them as examples for the other soldiers. Orophin, of course, plans his schedule around Lavandil’s, but I have him with us about three days a week. Rumil joins nearly every day, only disappearing on Saturday mornings to take the horses out with Cosima.

Cosima.

My mind has been consumed by her for weeks.

If I am being honest, it’s been consumed with her long before then, probably up to the moment she arrived in this world. I now understand that my desire to keep her near me after the attack, and every moment after, was not only a preventative measure to make her feel better — it was my need to keep her close. To keep her safe. To have that reassurance that she is alright, and, if we were to be attacked again, I could defend her myself.

I really do owe Rumil an apology.

Turns out my brother knows me better than I know myself.

But despite the startling realization that I want to be with a human woman—not just any human woman, Cosima—the days continue.

Not of small concern is Cosima’s health which, mercifully, is improving. Her sessions with Elrond to attempt to regain her memories must be helping — though her memories have not returned, the scars on her fæ are nearly completely healed.

Aside from my monitoring of her health through Elrond and Baranor, my busy schedule prevents me from seeking her out. We continue to train together three times a week — she is making vast improvements — but our interactions are hesitant, a little awkward. I worry I overstepped my bounds that first night, or perhaps, even before that — maybe the night under the stars — for she certainly keeps her distance now. No longer do we eat together or talk in our free time. It’s a strange feeling, but it causes me stress not to see her during the day. Even a quick interaction would be enough, just to catch a glimpse of her smile or hear the approval of her laugh, but those are few and far between.

But, as much as it pains me, it is for the best.

I hate to think of it this way, but Cosima’s life is short and her future uncertain. Were she an elleth, there would be no issue — I could tell her of my feelings and she could return them and we could spend the rest of our never-ending lives together.

But Cosima is human. Even if she does choose to stay in Arda forever, her forever and mine are vastly different. If I give in, do as I so desperately want to and build a life with her…

She does not know it, but she has the power to break me.

And, while I still hold a sliver of the ability to keep that from happening, I must seize on it.

A/n Thanks for reading, and happy weekend! Likes, comments, and reblogs make my day! See you Monday with a new chapter :)

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