#glorfindel/oc

[writerrose1998]

Title: Deep Waters

Rating: T

Pairing: Glorfindel/Original Female Character & Maedhros/Fingon

Summary: Reborn into Middle-Earth's First Age with only a passing knowledge of the books and movies, Elarinya knows there is a lot of work to be done if she wants her loved ones to survive the coming battles.

Neither her father nor Doriath were going to fall.

This is her oath.

[ruiniel]

You said to send short asks, is it OK if for me to request a short ask about glorfindel and a female s/o relationship headcannons?

Totally cool if you don't!

Anon this is the very first ask I get for a Tolkien character x reader HC! *gasp* Thank you, whoever you are.

All right, this is with Third-Age-Glorfindel in mind...

CW: ever so slightly suggestive

Despite being well loved for reasons too many to count, Glorfindel warms up slowly to others on a personal level. When he does, the depth of his affection is boundless.

He often feels the burdening of Ages but hides it well beneath his mild disposition and a carefree outlook. With you in his life, it comes as a surprise that he resorts to that way of coping less and less.

He'll say, resting with you on a warm afternoon somewhere at the top of the valley, gazing at Rivendell from afar: "You... you are kindling." And he'll press your palm to his heart, so you understand.

When he returns from patrols in the wilderness, he will always get the bathing and changing over with as fast as he can, just so he can crawl into bed next to you. He'll rest with his head against your chest, sighing and tangling his legs with yours. The tightness of his hold is an expression of how much he missed this, sleepily murmuring words that send you into a fever.

And then he falls asleep.

The beautiful bastard.

When a full day of training, diplomacy or whatever else is done, you'll sometimes take refuge in your chambers; you adore the way his gaze mellows at the sight of you when Glorfindel joins, his dimpled smile a warming balm. If you're reading in an armchair, he'll shrug off his outer robe and plop down by your feet in nothing but his simple undertunic and leggings, hugging your legs and pressing his forehead against your clothed knees.

He knows you won't last long before you set the book aside, loves how you enjoy playing with that bright, silky hair of his. You hear low, contented sighs when your fingers tangle and bury themselves in his strands; he'll rub his cheek against your thigh in a languid, feline manner, smiling and breathing slowly to unwind.

He makes no great deal of it, but Glorfindel has a wonderful singing voice; he'll hum old Valinorean tunes for you in the mornings or during treks together through the surrounding woods, happily explaining their meaning and origin (some are satire, which makes it irreverently fun)

Glorfindel is a living flame. It's as though he was reembodied with powers and affinities especially designed to defy the manner of his untimely, traumatizing death. He has no nightmares of fire: he is one with it, now. His spiritual power vibrates against you in silver and gold, sending your nerves sizzling and your spirit in a swoon.

Even his body temperature rises to surprising intensity in certain special moments: you've come to crave that undulating warmth beneath his skin.

And oh, he's more than eager to oblige.

You were delighted to find that Glorfindel, Lord Glorfindel the warrior, actually can employ the finest of charms when he wants to (and is a horrible tease besides).

For all the positions of authority he's held throughout the centuries, this Elf simply loves it when you take the lead; sometimes even begs it of you. When you straddle him as he lies on his back, giggling and biting his lip at the pleasant weight of your body. When you pin him down by the wrists, look him in the eye and pant out your demands, telling him exactly what you need and where you need it.

He can tell, anyway, he always checks with you in thought.

He just loves hearing you say it.

Or moan it.

Sometimes, when he's exhausted or lost in you, he'll slip into Quenya, forgetting you don't understand a word of his mother tongue. But the sound of it is so alluring, so indescribably beautiful (especially in his voice), that you nearly moan from the mere whisper of it in your ear.

You've only ever experienced Glorfindel drunk once, on an occasion commemorating the old Gates of Summer festival. He was quiet that day, distant, barring your thought when you tried reaching him and often disappearing from sight, away from the others. You gave him space, and halfway through the silent watch of the night, left for rest.

No sooner did you change and was standing at the side of the bed than he appeared, closing the doors behind him and leaning against them, his gaze flickering with golden sparks in the dark. His step wavered only once as he slowly moved towards you, but you knew. You waited, looked on as he reached you, pressing one large palm to your chest and pushing so you fell onto the soft bed; you tasted hot wine on his tongue, understood, and held him tightly as he took frantic refuge into you.

[justpostsyeet]

Legolas : I can't wait to meet Lady Mîr, I have heard that she's so beautiful, so patient-

*Lindir scream past him as Mîr chases him down with a fork for calling her tiny cat again*

Legolas : so wise in decision-making-

Mirkwood Elf Guard : That's Lady Mîr, right? She's so unco-

Legolas : Now, Now, Don't we want to keep our jobs?

Mirkwood Elf Guard :

Legolas : so gentle.......oh! I can't wait to OFFICIALLY meet her.

[vintagerivendel]

VINTAGERIVENDEL MASTERLIST

Adar, Gil-galad, Glorfindel, Haldir, Vorohil, Lindir.. below the cut.

ADAR

Stories

Of starlight and madnes

Chapter one

A reunion ( to be posted

One shots

TBD

Gil-Galad

Stories

Beating heart

Chapter one ( to be posted )

Oneshots

Vorohil

Stories

None listed yet

Oneshots

A light in the dark ( to be posted )

Thranduil

Stories

Protected secret

Chapter one tbd

Oneshots

TBD

Glorfindel

Stories

Oneshots

Haldir

Stories

Oneshots

Lindir

Stories

Oneshots

[ela-draws]

🏵️ @glorfindelweek Day 6: Return to Middle Earth 🏵️

After centuries apart ...

[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

[sotwk]

hi! in the spirit of showing oc love, I was wondering if there's a particular oc you're looking forward to introducing to people in upcoming projects?

I'm tripping over myself to answer this Ask! (Thank you thank you thank you, Ace!)

May I please introduce two?

I've been shy about sharing these because they're not only Silmarillion OCs (I'm still intimidated by the Silm fandom, even though I have many lovely Mutuals from there, you included), they're OC WIVES of Silm Canons. Two of the most popular Silm canons. I'm pretty sure OC creators have been flogged for that.

But since you asked... onward with SotWK AU reveals and spoilers! The stories are tragic because that's the First Age for you!

Velcálë Vanandur

Wife of Maglor and grandmother of Elvenqueen Maereth (wife of Thranduil)

SotWK Fancast: Zendaya Coleman as Velcálë

Her name means "flame doer" in Quenya.

Velcálë had one child with Maglor, a daughter named Laurinwen, who was born and grew up in Tirion.

She was a Noldorin apprentice who served directly under Vána, and was thus given the prestigious epithet "Vanandur" (Servant of Vána).

She was a great tender of gardens, and her songs could cause plants to immediately flower or bear fruit.

Only out of love and devotion to Maglor did she decide to follow the Fëanorians in Exile, taking their daughter with them.

Velcálë was greatly affected by the violence of her kin and constantly homesick for Valinor. A lover of light and warmth, she suffered in the harsh lands where her family dwelt.

The toll of her heartbreak muted the strength and power she possessed in Valimar to nearly nothing, although she did her best to help sustain their people by cultivating the lands for limited-scale food production.

Because she tried to hold Maglor back from "necessary" violence and constantly made him question his commitment to the Oath, she was disliked by all of her brothers-in-law, except for Maedhros.

Velcálë was eventually slain in the battle of Dagor Bragollach when Himlad fell, leading to a permanent estrangement between Maglor and his daughter, Laurinwen.

Elemírë

Wife of Glorfindel and twin sister of Elenwë (wife of Turgon) 

SotWK Fancast: Vanessa Kirby as Elemírë

Elemírë had a fierce warrior’s spirit, but violence of any kind was considered unbecoming by her family.

She joined the Exile because she did not want to be separated from her sister Elenwë, a gentle spirit whom she always sought to protect.

She was loved by her childhood friend, Glorfindel. Although she reciprocated his feelings, he was the more passionate and demonstrative one. Elemírë factored in Glorfindel's own decision to (reluctantly) join the Exile.

Elemírë nearly died trying to dive under the Grinding Ice to save her sister, but she was held back by Glorfindel. This embittered her heart towards him. Instead of following Turgon to Vinyamar (and eventually Gondolin), she decided to join Fingon’s people. 

Over the course of the decades, she grew into a skilled cavalry rider, and was accepted into the ranks of Fingon. She became devoted to Fingon for personally mentoring and training her. 

During the Long Peace, Glorfindel (who had missed and yearned for Elemírë all those years), sought permission from Turgon to leave Gondolin so he could seek her out.

He came to Hithlum reaffirming his love for her and seeking her hand in marriage. Elemírë would not say yes, but could not bring herself to refuse him either. Glorfindel committed to staying for as long as needed to convince her, and this courtship lasted for nearly half a century.

Eventually, Fingon himself encouraged Elemírë to realize and follow her true desires for peace and love. She betrothed herself to Glorfindel and returned to Gondolin with him.

The couple married and bore one child, a son named Ingwil.

As the Lady of the House of the Golden Flower, Elemírë was also one of its fiercest warriors. She fought alongside her husband for the first time in the Nirnaeth Arnoediad.

Elemírë died during the Fall of Gondolin, rescuing her son from an attacking fire drake, which she successfully slayed before perishing.

Thank you again for the ask @hobbitwrangler, and for encouraging my foray into the Silm fandom. I hope you (and anyone reading this) enjoy learning about these OC ladies! Maybe with the right amount of courage, time, and motivation, I may someday even write some actual one-shots including them!

For more SotWK AU headcanons: SotWK HC Masterlist

Elves HC Tag List: @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @achromaticerebus @acornsandoaktrees @aduialel @asianbutnotjapanese @auttumnsayshi @blueberryrock @conversacomsmaug @elan-ho-detto-elan-15 @entishramblings @glassgulls @heilith @heranintomyknife23times @ladyweaslette @laneynoir @lathalea @quickslvxrr @spacecluster @stormchaser819 @talkdifferently6 @tamryniel @tamurilofrivendell

Special Moots who might be interested tag: @emmanuellececchi @from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras @scyllas-revenge @g-m-kaye @quillofspirit

Other useful links:

Introduction to SotWK

Fanfiction Masterlist

Fanfiction Request Guidelines

[gwaedhannen]

[Excerpt from Sorrow Beyond Words: Collected Testimony of the War of Wrath, 4th Edition; ed. Elrond Peredhel. Archive of Cîw Annúminas, inaugural collection]

“Simply reaching Menegroth was a struggle. Doriath had become a twisting nightmare of overgrowth and rot and mists, as Morgoth’s power warred with the remains of the Girdle and our old songs. Ai, our home, our haven! I know the name of every holly in Region, before the exile. We found deadfalls surrounded by dozens of animals who’d lain down beside the trees and rotted before they died. Blind moose more antler than flesh staggered towards us even after a dozen arrows. Vines covered in dripping thorns reached for our eyes. The cherry trees were overladen with fruits that smelled like gangrene. Deildhod stumbled into a nest of maddened vipers, and only escaped because their tails were all tangled together into a festering mass and could hardly move. We never saw or heard a single bird. I’m amazed we lost no one in that whole push through Region. No, I speak a lie. I know how we passed through with nothing worse than scrapes. Elrond was with us, and the ghost of Melian’s love still recognized her kin.

“Esgalduin had nearly been dammed by one of Hírilorn’s fallen boles, but the bridge still held. We crossed and reached the ruined gates, wrought twice and broken twice. Within there was only darkness to be seen; we knew not what manner of horrors Morgoth had sent to infest the city, but Ingwion was unwilling to leave them at the rear of his forces as he moved north, if it could be helped. Celeborn stood at Elrond’s right and myself at his left. Far less an honor guard than the heir of Elu Thingol and Melian Besain deserved. Yet in those dark days it was all the honor we could muster. King Dior Eluchíl had known thirty-six summers when he was unrighteously slain. Queen Elwing Nimaew thirty-five when despair took her to the sea. Lord Elrond Peredhel beheld the city of Elu for the first and only time in his twenty-ninth summer.

“Elrond stood before his inheritance and Sang. He sang a lament, for the lost endless years of joy and peace, for deep halls lit by birdsong and echoing with wisdom, for the Forsaken People who awoke the forest and earth with many voices, for the works of beauty never to be seen again on this side of the sea. He sang a promise, that the glory of Menegroth will be remembered in the songs of Middle-Earth for as long as its children endure. He sang thanks, for the protection the halls granted us until it could shelter us no more. As his song at last ceased, I thought I heard nightingales answering him.

“Stars shone on his brow, and his hair glistened as the vault of night, and the memories of our once-eternal bliss in the woods of Thingol’s realm under Elbereth’s gifts arose in my mind. Let Oropher dream of a deep hall for his own; let Celeborn reign where he will at his wife’s side! I knew in my heart, as the echo of nightingale songs faded, that there was no lord or king I would ever stand beside save Elrond Elwingion.

“The living stone in which our kingdom once thrived knew his voice, and at long last laid down its burden and passed. The darkness over Menegroth was lifted, and we went forth into its corpse, and no beast or orc could stand before us. I do not sing of what we found and left behind when we cast down the bridge and gave leave for the river to flood the caves. It is not worth remembering.”

[nerevar-quote-and-star]

Dangerously close to plotting a real Skyrim/Lord of the Rings crossover for after Keeping Count because my secret desire for Leara/Glorfindel has reared its head again

Shhh Don't question it.

[noirbriar]

Glorestor: 5 Times They Denied (3)

+ 1 time They Did Not. From the POVs of the various folks around the 2 elves who are convinced they are courting, or betrothed, even though they were told otherwise.

Lindir has done his part! Now as we enter the Third Age, let's take a look through the eyes of the others in the lower hierarchy of power in the Last Homely House. OOCs and problems in writing are as always all on me.

---

3] The Residents of Imladris

Imladris. The Last Homely House east of the sea. It was founded to be a fortress and refuge, a haven for all. A place for healing in this gentle place for the good folk of Arda from all walks of life. Especially after the War of the Last Alliance and fall of Lindon. The many elves that now reside in the great valley of Imladris have bonded together closely despite their tumultuous past soaked in blood.

They now share festivities and celebrate the days together as one. Under the protection of Lord Elrond, they protect their home and each other from the dark forces beyond their boundaries.

Yet, much like any other proper civilisation, the quaint elven realm has her secrets.

---

Saelbeth frowns at the reports in his hands, almost as if staring hard at the figures alone will make the numbers work out. To no avail of course. With a heavy sigh, the young councillor gives up on his personal project for now and heads out of the library to join his mentor in the weekly general council meeting.

In the early days of the Valley, the quiet scholar from Lindon quickly became the primary assistant of Chief Councillor Erestor. The ellon was once skeptical considering the rumours he have heard about the once feanorian general turned advisor to the King's Herald. Though those thoughts were squashed once he realised the older elf was not just a brilliant politician but a great loremaster. Which greatly appealed to the inquisitive ellon hungry for knowledge.

It was Erestor who taught him personally in state building and trade. Where the younger elf quickly realising the great difference in the immense job of running a proper elven fortress compared to that of a regular settlement.

Now with the influx of kin from Lindon and all of Arda still recovering from the War, Imladris is healing but weary, like her Lord. Especially with the loss of their High King Gil-Galad.

Unlike other elven settlements, Lord Elrond's rule is fairly relaxed but firm in such times of necessity. Which suited the Lord of Imladris' temperament and the residents of the Valley, at least in Saelbeth's opinion. Therefore, the weekly general council meetings are never a chore to him.

Until the arriving participants notice the dour Lords at their seats.

Saelbeth darts a glance at an older member of council next to him, and then to Golradir, his fellow peer and fellow council member. Each sharing a weary look. Further up, Thandor and Laica, the Captain's deputies who were already seated, gives them a stiff nod.

They awkwardly nod back.

Great Eru have mercy, they are in for a long one. The two Lords have been at odds with the other for a long while, causing a strange shift in the air in Imladris...and looks like there is still no end in sight.

The young councillor quickly takes his place beside Lord Erestor and prepares his documents promptly. No point in antagonising his superior further with inefficiency.

The rest of the council arrives and slowly make their way to the dreaded table,marching on to their doom. Some even taking the time to tuck their new proposals and agendas back into their folders to see the light of another day.

Across the table Deputy Thandor looked as if he is struggling to be inconspicuous. Almost as if any sudden movement and he will become prey. Deputy Laica has her head up towards the ceiling wishing to be anywhere but here.

Even Lord Elrond himself had to resist with a grimace at the heavy atmosphere of the room.

Rebukes and petty words were thrown each time a subject is brought up by the other, forcing the council to remain silent for the most part. Until the dispute regarding the increase in skirmishes around the various elven havens that remain did the chaos begin.

That was when it all fell apart. Both the Balrog-slayer and Tempest of Imladris rising up to their full figure and hell bent on mincing one another apart with words alone.

It is when the difference in opinion escalates to a higher than necessary decibel, that the Lord of Imladris finally exert his authority. With a single slam of the table and some harsh words in disappointment and frustration, the chaos cease instantaneously. Effectively putting an end to the fight between his two highest ranking officials.

The very moment the meeting is adjourned and Lord Elrond has taken his leave,Lord Glorfindel storms off in a flurry of his white cloak, without a second glance. His deputies hurrying to keep up with their Captain. The rest of the Council make their quiet escape like field mice. Golradir still has the audacity to mouth a 'good luck' to him as he shuffles away.

Saelbeth stamps down his annoyance as he returns to his stoic mentor in his seat. The Lord's empty gaze fixed into nothingness for a long while before waving the younger elf away.

The young councillor turns back and watches the lone feanorian Lord for a moment. The old elf who always seem to bear a strange heaviness in his spirit, an unseen burden on his shoulders, now accompanied by only silence in the hollow room.

Saelbeth shuts the door quietly with a soft sigh.

In the passing of seasons, time crawls slowly by as they do for the eldar. Saelbeth suddenly spies his mentor working on a pattern design according to old Vanyar styles in the library while finding early records of the weather patterns of the Misty Mountains. That,clearly is none of his business. When Lord Erestor gets Saelbeth to procure certain material samples from the textile traders and vendors while doing the monthly inventory check, the Sindar does not bat an eye.

In the following year as the leaves turn, draping the valley in a bright array of gold and amber, Saelbeth stops by Lord Erestor's chambers to deliver the first harvest reports. When he is given permission to enter, he ignores his mentor's temperamental horned owl grooming itself by the window. What he first lays his eye on, is a stunning teal brocade robe decorated in gold on the mannequin the Chief Councillor seems to be fussing over in his main hall. Upon a closer look, one can even see the intricate threading of faint vines that seem like an illusion. Even if he is no expert, the assistant can clearly see it is a masterpiece.

"Saelbeth, come." Erestor calls over his shoulder without even a glance, as he pins the hem in place."Tell me, what am I missing here?"

The younger elf blinks.

"It is perfect, my Lord, but,"Saelbeth takes a pause before jumping right in," maybe it needs...a focal point?"

"Ah." Erestor looks back at his assistant at last with an owlish blink." Excellent, thank you, Saelbeth. Just leave those reports on the table for now. I shall attend to those in a bit."

With that, Saelbeth takes his leave as instructed without any questions.

Days later, Lord Glorfindel returns. The Golden Lord making his entrance abruptly still in filthy armour and his muddy travel cloak, helmet under his arm. Who has zero regard that Saelbeth is in Lord Erestor's office consulting a matter about the Conference of Ambassadors and Scholars Seminar, as he jabs an impatient thumb towards the door without pause.

"Urgent matters. Out."

The councillor’s owl perched on the Captain’s shoulder, hoots.

Saelbeth looks at the Captain as he tucks his knife back into his sleeve. The wary young councillor then turns to his Chief Councillor.

"Its fine, we will speak again on this."Erestor waves with a wry tug on the corner of his lips. Only then, does the ellon turn away with a polite bow to both, taking his leave. He even took care to lock the door behind him while he is at it. In his immense relief, he did not even realise the owl is now on his shoulder, clicking his beak.

But bless the Valar. Finally.

Later, he would spot that same gorgeous robe on the illustrious Lord of the Golden Flower during the mid-autumn festival. The light of the lanterns in the Hall of fire dancing off the shimmering crystals on the robe like dew, held together by a lovely crafted belt that compliments his powerful form, enthralling everyone he meets. A shimmering sash of the first rays of dawn draping his shoulders.His circlet on his brow with the famed golden hair flowing behind like an ephemeral flame.

The Emissary of the Valar is not alone. His companion, a dark fae draped in rich dark maroon silk that flows around his lithe figure. A hairpin with trailing teardrops made from mother-of-pearl pieces holds Erestor's ebony hair together. Crowned with his circlet, his dark smooth hair and braids glows in the dark with a soft warm hue. Even if the most interesting piece, in Saelbeth’s personal opinion, would be simple ear cuff etched with a golden flower that shines brightly on Lord Erestor’s right ear that accompanies his other earring of the feanorian star.

Towards the end of the festivities with Tilion high in the sky, he would be mighty drunk together with Golradir, and they will both stumble their way back to their own quarters to await tomorrow with their regrets. Though he swears, beneath the golden beech trees leading into the Inner Wing, he sees the incarnation of dawn and dusk sharing an unfamiliar dance under the cover of the merry dancing leaves.

---

Its raining again.

Ai...Its been two weeks and seems like the storm will not be leaving soon. Though it is very rare for such dreadful storms to hit their valley.

Guardsman Aerion sighs at the dismal weather before him as he remains at his post. He hates guard duty, with each shift the same, until Lord Glorfindel feels like dropping a random attack drill with the rookies to keep them on their toes.The only exciting thing all week had only been the sudden arrival of a Wandering Company.

Shifting his weight with a soft huff, Aerion lets his mind wander a little until something outside catches his eye. A rather strange scene in the ever peaceful House. A commotion in the courtyard out there in this dreadful weather. There in the summer storm, Erestor and Glorfindel are arguing in the punishing rain.

Erestor's restless dapple grey mare stands in the deluge beside her master in confusion at the elves fighting. Aerion is unable to hear a word over the distance but he sees Erestor turning to leave before Glorfindel pulls the councillor back harshly. Erestor looks ready to lash out but the Captain quickly wraps his arms tightly around the other ellon-

Oh. Oh ho.

It was a long while before the the two finally part, with the Golden Lord slowly getting Erestor to face him, cradling the councilor's face carefully in his hands as they spoke. It was a while more before Erestor allows himself to be tugged along by Glorfindel. The Captain taking the mare's reins from her master as he pulls them all back into safety of the shelter of the Homely House. Hmm. Guess that is his cue to let Master Lindir know, as he is heading down this way, that the servants ought to prepare a warm bath and some hot meals in Lord Glorfindel's chambers. Best to keep the staff away too. It would be terrible to disturb their peace.

---

Aeril makes her way down the Inner Wing. A tray of warm chicken broth and soft bread, some plain porridge with preserved vegetables in hand.

After settling in Imladris, she managed to secure a job as a chambermaid in the House of Lord Elrond. Even then, it was not easy. Master Lindir had been strict in his interviews as Steward, and her superior, Lady Mirien, demands nothing less than efficiency and perfection from her staff.

Imladris truly feels immensely different from Mithlond. Yet the community is nice and full of life. Her co-workers are friendly and the household management has treated her well in her transition into life in the Valley.

On her first night duty, she receives orders from a guard for selected food to be brought up to Lord Glorfindel's chambers. Aeril has long heard of the famed Lord of legends but does not let her curiosity get in the way of being professional. She arrives at the doors and balances the tray before knocking.It was not even a minute before it cracks open.

"Good evening m-"

A quick finger on his lips and a sharp look startles the young maid into silence. Once assured that all was quiet, the warrior, dressed down in casual sleeping tunic and pants and a rich green overrobe, gives a small smile of approval. A quick tilt of his hand, the mighty Lord gestures for Aeril to enter with the tray.

"Set it here along with the tea that is kept warm at the back. Then, you may leave." The Lord whispers and points to the modest dining table for the elleth to set the meal.Before he leaves into his main hall where the fireplace is burning bright.

There was shuffling and sounds of whispers and Aeril swears she only caught a glimpse because she was leaving once she concluded her duties.

In the dark elegant hall illuminated by the flames, laying across the couch with a palm supporting his head was Chief Councillor Erestor. The ever terrifying Lord was not in his usual elegant high collared ensemble, but in a sheer black robe that has the collar slipping down as he shifts in his slumber.A white fur blanket in his lap, and a threadbarescarf dyed in fierce crimson around his slender arms that is slipping down onto the carpet. Lord Glorfindel hovers above in an attempt to rouse him from his slumber. The Golden Lord's hand brushing the other's face gently.

"Eres? Eres, you need to wake up and eat something first. Elrond has said you must eat before drinking the migraine herbs."

"Hn..." Lord Erestor stirs, leaning into the warmth of the palm against his skin.

The sight was too much. The young elleth leaves a blushing mess as she hurries back to her station. Her sudden entry into the kitchens startling the other night staff and Mirien who was there checking in.

"Whats wrong, Aeril?" The older elleth asks carefully in concern but the young maid could only bury her face in her hands and return with a squeak.

"L-Lord-Glor-Glorfindel AND Lord Erestor-?!"

The staff leans back with a sigh and a roll of their eyes as realisation sinks in. Mirien pats the poor elleth gently almost sympathetically .

"You will get used to it soon, my dear."

---

Thandor wants to hurl himself into the Brunien. Now.

Eyes darting to the figure beside him, the deputy resists the urge to cringe with each turn of the page by his superior. Who looked decidedly entertained by this tiny, thin, novel in his hands. A palm sized book that belonged not to him, but borrowed from Handmaiden Aeril, who got it from another, and so on. Yet he was the last to be able to read it in their squadron, even when he was the one who got it for them!

Now the bastards are hanging further away from him to avoid being pulled into this. All of them trying to seem busy watching the rookies and advising on archery techniques like proper senior officers they are. His Captain never had issues with his soldiers doing their own thing during downtime. The charismatic Lord always casual but firm with his warriors, with great empathy and camaraderie to all under his command. Despite his trainings being ruthless and his standards for the troops are high. It is why the soldiers of Imladris respect their commander greatly.

However the problem lies in the contents of this peculiar publication. A harmless romance fantasy piece.Very well written, in very limited copies but just...a little spicy.

It was the main characters that were an obvious issue. Even to a simple warrior like himself. Heck, even an elfling can bloody see who those characters were. "This is fascinating! It is clear that that Lord Lote still desires Lord Mori despite what has happened in Court! How foolish it is for them to part on such dreadful terms! But this is absolutely engaging ...Why have you not introduced this intriguing work to me?" Glorfindel turns to Thandor animatedly.Amused by the book he had filched from his utterly distracted Deputy earlier during their quick break.

"Its not...an official publication, sir."

"Then who is this creative fellow? When we return to the House, I shall ask Erestor to have Melpomaen and the scribes to help this budding author." Glorfindel presses on brightly, utterly invested in the story. Eru, even if you do not care for this damned fea of a blood soaked feanorian, for the love of all that is good in this House- Do NOT let his ex-general even see this book.

"Captain! CAPTAIN!!"

A loud commotion from afar causes both deputy and Lord out of their conversation. It was Urthel and a few others from the second squadron. "Be calm, Officer Urthel. What disturbs you so to be making this much noise through the Barracks?" Glorfindel asks the worried ellyn as he shuts the tiny book and tucks it safely into his spare pouch. Thandor mentally sighs.

"Its Deputy Laica! She requests for your presence! Lithon and the cadets are fighting with Lady Celebrian's guards in the training hall!" With that, Glorfindel does not even wait, heading off in large strides. Thandor and Urthel shadows his steps. Where they quickly arrive to find an enraged Deputy Laica reprimanding the soldiers standing in position before her. Their faces bruised and beaten.While the newly transferred Galadhrim guards, who fair no better, are defiant even with their bloody faces. Each carrying their own argument, their voices overlapping one another's.

The Captain enters, causing the noise to cease, snapping into position as they see his arrival. The Lord’s face blank as he studies the scene and all involved.

Before Glorfindel could even begin his interrogation, Lady Celebrian herself, arrives at the scene, dressed in a silvery lavender summer dress with pearls in her hair. Beside the Lady as her guide with a hand on his arm was Erestor. Followed by her newly appointed handmaiden Aeriel, Councillor Saelbeth and Erestor's young assistant, Melpomaen.

They all bow before the Lady of Imladris.

"What is going on?" The new Lady of Imladris' bell-like voice resounds in the hall.Powerful and bright. In that instance, Celebrian looked like an echo of her formidable mother. Her elegant features now cold as steel, face filled with great disappointment. She finally turns to the guards that have followed her to this haven after her marriage.

"Guardsman Faron...What is this violence with the soldiers I hear? You were one of Lorien's best, and now you have disgraced the fine name of Lorien's warriors."

The sindar, Faron, and the other Galadhrim looked properly chastised by his Lady. Yet Glorfindel and the rest could tell that there is discontent still between the two factions as the two sides glare at the other. Celebrian sees this as well and with a twirl of her skirts, turns to Glorfindel with a heavy sigh.

"Well, Glorfindel, as my guards are now part of the army of Imladris, they too fall under your jurisdiction.I shall let you handle this as you deem fit."

"Certainly, my Lady. Though it would seem best if we are to hear what triggered this ridiculousness." Glorfindel have his hands behind, prowling down the line and inspecting each injured soldier with a sharp eye. When it was clear none were willing to volunteer the information freely, he takes his pick.

"Cadet Lithon." The Captain calls out, coming to stand before the dark haired ellon. His discontent obvious. Lithon fidgets, the young noldor remains silent for a long while, until with several nudges from his peers, he finally caves under the stern gaze of his commander. "They...they spoke ill of you and your choices, Captain." Glorfindel raises a brow at that.

"Oh?"

"They spoke of slander and said you could do better than having a..."The young cadet takes a breathe but mutters barely loud enough for all to hear,"...a 'bloody Valar-damned feanorian' like Chief Councillor Erestor for a mate."

One could hear nothing, nothing even a whisper of a breath. As if time stood still in this lazy summer afternoon within the confines of this training hall.

Hm, uncreative much? That is really not the worst they feanorians have heard before, especially back in Lindon. Kinda disappointing, Thandor thinks wryly to himself as he looks at the Galahdrim who are now shuffling uncomfortably at the attention from everyone.

Thandor sees Glorfindel's formal mask of indifference is still on. Years of working under the Captain, Thandor sees the silent rage brewing under that calm facade. The Lord of legend has absolutely zero tolerance for misdemeanour and disrespect from those under his command. Also a rare known fact is that Glorfindel actually has a formidable temper to be reckoned with despite his good and kindly nature. Like the Brunien raging on a bad day and at any other times, the deputy loves watching new recruits come to realisation at that fact.

Thandor then takes a brief moment of bravery to glance at the other party involved.Knowing his ex-superior, there are several ways this can go- But now, Erestor simply looks bored.

"Interesting. It seems like your summer drills have still allowed our troops to have energy to spin some idle thoughts." Erestor drawls, absolutely unbothered by the situation.

"Indeed. So idle that they seem to feel they have the right to delve into the private affairs of their Lords. What would you advise in this instance, Lord Erestor?" Glorfindel growls over his shoulder dryly. "I leave it to you, Lord Glorfindel, for they are your troops under your command. I am sure your boundless creativity can think of something to exercise their young, overactive brains than the thought of us being…married."

The Chief Councillor replies flatly without a glance, as he inspects the nonexistent speck of dust on his immaculately polished nails. The statement however, earns them more than a few wide eye looks ranging from confusion to bewilderedness from the present crowd.

“You jest!”

The loudest voice of surprise however, comes from Lady Celebrian herself.

"You are both not- Betrothed?" Her voice seem to leave her as her question is asked, her bright eyes wide as if in disbelief. The two Lords look at each other almost in consideration, and calmly turn back to their Lady.

"No." They replied smoothly in unison.

"C-Courting?"

"No."

Thandor is pretty sure everyone is not buying their bullshit.

Celebrian, aghast, places an elegant hand over her heart. She swivels her head like a puzzled doe with her wide eyes darting between the two other leaders of Imladris. From Glorfindel, to Erestor, and back again,scrutinising both. Even if what she seeks is what many have tried finding over the years, the marriage bond is simply non-existent between the two.

Her bright eyes then darts to that gold ear cuff on Erestor’s ear, squinting at it glittering under the summer sunlight pouring in from the windows.

Celebrian's brows furrowed , as if this is some disconcerting news and she is greatly offended by it. Thandor can hear her muttering under her breath incredulously as she processes everything,"but, that's not right...that's not what nana had said...I'm certain of it...Huh?”

There is nothing, save for the sounds of horses in the pastures, the distant waterfalls and the songs of happy little birds filling the air, and them, the first-born, shrouded in awkward silence.

"My deepest apologies, Glorfindel, Erestor. For such blatant disgrace and dishonour my guards have brought upon you. I shall leave their punishment to you both. But now if you will excuse me, I must speak to my husband at once." Celebrian declares this hastily and abruptly with great determination. She gestures for Handmaiden Aeril to lead her away as the rest bow as she leaves.

Glorfindel then finally turns to the soldiers, who remembers the trouble they are in. Now, they finally shall face the full brunt of the Lord of old Gondolin's ire.

"Well. I hope you all had your fill of entertainment for today, at the expense of myself and Lord Erestor. Good to know indiscipline exists in my ranks. What's next? Insubordination? It seems I am clearly too lax with you lot!"

Glorfindel does not need to shout, his voice demands nothing but absolute compliance to his orders as the soldiers remain still at his command. Before he turns to the Galadhrim guards, leaning into each of them down the line, as they struggle not to falter under the fierce eyes of the Balrog Slayer.

"By her Lady's grace, I hope you all are ready for what I have in store. Because as your Captain, I will make sure I will drill it into you to understand that this House, under the rule of Lord Elrond, does not accept your absurd notions and prejudices. It has no place here now or ever! Vanyar, Noldor, Telari, Avari, regardless of parentage or history, you will get that into your heads and you accept that as you are now one of Imladris! Or its straight back to Lorien you go! I do not care what Lord Celeborn or Lady Galadriel has to say! Is that clear?!" "Yes Sir!"

Glorfindel straightens to his full height and lets out a heavy huff, turning to Erestor with a weary look.

"My apologies Councillor, be assured they will all be dealt with.You will have a report and once I am through with them I shall send the soldiers for you to mete out an appropriate punishment.You have my word. " Glorfindel steps closer to Erestor who waves his apology away with an elegant hand.

"I shall leave it to you then, Captain.I see you have the problem in hand." The Chief Councillor finally lays his sharp gaze on the warriors, unnerving every young elf. Especially Faron, as he tries desperately not to make eye contact with the old feanorian general. The little welps shall reap the consequences later for their stupidity, but it would be fine, Erestor is fair, that Thandor knows.

The feanorian reminisces the days in Himring where he was born. Where Middle-Earth was harsh and their other kin despised them. Yet they endured.There is a reason why the feanorians remained till the bitter end, not for glory, but for the love their Leaders had given to those under them. Despite the hand they were dealt with themselves, the feanorians shared kindness amongst themselves, where there was none for them.

When everything was lost, there was no one left but their precious twin Lords Elrond and Elros. It was Erestor, their young general, who single-handedly kept the twins alive in Lindon with them, the unwanted, the strays and the remnants of a broken and hated House.

The dark haired elf wanders closer to the taller elf, laying a hand on Glorfindel’s chest, easing that deep frown slightly, seemingly calming the displeased Captain.

Oy.Oy.Oy. You both do remember where this is? Thandor resists burying his face into his hands with a snort.

The height difference is not much,but Erestor still leans up to Glorfindel's ear, lips nearly brushing an earlobe. With absolutely no regards to their audience watching attentively at all.He drops his voice into a bare whisper, with Glorfindel remaining silent.Azure eyes gleaming in concentration, possibly using Osanwe in reply. Effectively keeping the conversation between themselves, until Erestor finally pulls away. Slate green eyes meeting dazzling blues filled with light.

Great. They are seriously not convincing anyone being like that.Ah…If only Lord Maedhros and Lord Maglor can see their ferocious general now. Now that would be funny.

"Well then, I see my presence is not required here anymore in any case. "Erestor announces flatly with disinterest. His dark gaze lingers on Glorfindel for a moment, dragging his fingers along the warrior's arm before he turns to take his leave with Councillor Saelbeth and Melpomaen-

Only to be nearly rammed into by a silvery blur that is their Lady running back, skirts in hand.As she rushes back into the Barracks. Her Handmaiden trailing behind in wild panic.

"WAIT! Wait,wait! So- everything in the book is not true??"

Erestor stares at the Lady, his brows in a deep frown.

"Book? What book?"

Saelbeth’s face scrunches in visible pain, young Melpomaen pales,while the soldiers of Imladris struggle to remain calm. Which earns them more weird looks from their new brother-in-arms from Lorien.

Thandor tiredly shuts his eyes to the disaster before him, and sighs.

---

A/N: Elves of Arda work hard but the gossip mills of Imladris work harder! And what better way to immerse into a new city and bond with your teammates than to have wagers on your bosses’ love life!

This was too damn long and OOC and got out of hand im so sorry.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6)

[cilil]

Taming the Balrog-slayer

❁ Prompt & pairing: Romance | Glorfindel x Mentelossë (OFC) ❁ Synopsis: Glorfindel - warrior, hero and famed Balrog-slayer - loves pleasing his lady. ❁ Warnings: Smut, some D/s, please heed warnings ❁ Oneshot (~1.1k)

Messy

❁ Prompt & pairing: Imladris | Glorfindel x Erestor x Ecthelion ❁ Synopsis: Glorfindel, a menace on the battlefield and in other situations alike, is about to have some fun with Erestor… only for an old "friend" to show up. ❁ Warnings: Smutty crack ❁ Quadruple drabble

@glorfindelweek

taglist: @blauerregen @elanna-elrondiel @i-did-not-mean-to @saintstars

[writerrose1998]

Title: Deep Waters

Rating: T

Pairing: Glorfindel/Original Female Character & Maedhros/Fingon

Summary: Reborn into Middle-Earth's First Age with only a passing knowledge of the books and movies, Elarinya knows there is a lot of work to be done if she wants her loved ones to survive the coming battles.

Neither her father nor Doriath were going to fall.

This is her oath.

[ruiniel]

Hello!

I hope your feeling better, I myself have been feeling like crap lately so you have my sympathies.

I saw your post on glorfindel and was wondering if you'd be happy with more tolkien requests, though I definitely love your castlevania works!

That being said, may I request a glorfindel and a human lady reader?

Thank you for sending! And yes, welcoming Tolkien requests.

I redid an older Glorfindel scene for this... wanted to 'revive' it instead of letting it sit in my drafts. Might follow up with something NSFW, not sure?

General note: also working on the older asks, it's taking forever

Lairë

Pairing: Glorfindel x human fem!reader

Count: 0.5k

Rating: T

Forlond, Lindon, late Second Age

“Laurefindil, Laurefindil!”

He turns from his musing at the sound of his name, his eyes torn from the swaying waves. The day has given way to dusk, and it’s been one of clear skies and mild winds. He breathes the salty breeze, his chest filling with the rush and flow come from the sea depths.

You’re breathless when you reach his side, taking him by the arm. “Look, look a whale! Do you see it? Look there, to the East!”

Glorfindel watches you for a moment, smiling at the sight of your sparkling eyes. He follows your pointing finger. Indeed he sees the tip of a tail splashing silver foam away in the far distance, just where the Gulf of Lune flows into the sea. “I do see it… well done,” he glances back at you. 

Your hair is loose, your dress wet, the sheer material clinging to your thighs and legs after a spree in the shallow waters kissing the shore. Glorfindel himself is unshod, his plain grey tunic reaching his knees, his trousers rolled up to his calves. 

“Well done indeed, and I win, my lord,” you tease, a finger pointing at his chest. “And you know the wager. Tonight, you dance.” His frown makes you chuckle. 

“I most certainly will not.”

You cross your arms. “That was the wager. You took it. I said that I saw them, and you asked me to prove it. I did. Or does Lord Laurefindil only keep his word when it suits?” For a long time, you’d taken to calling him by his Quenya name, knowing it gladdens him to hear it. “No, you promised. Imagine the look on their faces!”

The Elf shakes his head. “You’re being childish.”

Whatever else he may have uttered, it is lost with the way you barrel into him, and even Glorfindel loses his balance with the swiftness of your movements. The sand is warm beneath him, but it’s also in his mouth and ears. Your face hovers into view, framed by salty locks, eyes now twinkling mirthfully above him. “Rise and let me up, or you go unaccompanied to your dancing tonight.” He tries to sound demanding, but somehow, in the short years he’s known you, you’d come to see through most of his devices. 

A half-smile graces your lips, your arms propped on his shoulders. “Make me.” 

He could never stay upset with you for long, pretend or not. His hands slip along your thighs, up your hips, settling there. He closes his eyes at the warmth of your mouth, trailing along his chin, to his lips. His grip tightens on your hips.

And then he’s fast on his feet, even with you struggling and laughing in his arms.

“Put me down, you cannot! Put me down! Laurefindil! You will regret this!”

Still smiling he carries you, futile resistance and all, to the shore. Glorfindel advances into the lazy waves, painted gold and green in the sunset.  “No,” he takes your chin between his fingers. “You will.” And he drops you.

You gasp when cold water douses your sun-warmed skin, thrashing to be free of him. Anyone passing would stand perplexed at the sight of a famed Balrog slayer jestingly dunking the head of a young maiden beneath the sea while she grapples and tugs at his clothing like a writhing handmaiden of Uinen. Your laughter glitters along the shore, lost in the faraway winds.

[justpostsyeet]

Glorfindel : I want a baby!

Lindir : Oh no! Its that time of the month again. Hide Mîr.

Mîr enters the room. Lindir throws her over the shoulder and runs with Glorfindel running after.

Mîr : I knew elves got baby fever but never knew it was this bad.

Lindir : At least I'm better at handling such things.

Mîr : Shut up and run faster you soon to be rabbit in heat.

[enerisarchive]

[[Commission CLOSED]]

Hello everyone! I am open to commissions. A REBLOG would be appreciated.

I am now only open for portrait and half-body commission requests. You can see some of my recent works down below. Maximum 2 characters per commission.

I can't draw: real person, realism, mecha, animals, furry and nsfw content (characters with animalistic features are okay)

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[ela-draws]

🏵️ @glorfindelweek Day 4 : Romance 🏵️

Today I propose you sekksy (very explicit 🔞) gif of Glorfindel and Mentelossë (OC) proceed at your own discretion 💙