#ingoldo | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

imclimbingthestairsoforthanc · 5 months ago

Note

Okay! Thank you! 😭

I’d really like to know how finrod acts when hes in love with reader or has a massive crush on reader, like Headcanons for that situation or maybe like a fic where he gets all happy and giddy when reader is in the room, how he always tries to stick by readers side and always tries to spend more time with them, always praising them, slowly confessing his love in different ways.. (not nsfw!)

Thats all!

Thank you! (Again)!😭💖💖

*I rly hope this made sense cuz English isn’t my first language*

makes perfect sense and I love this request. its my first time writing Finrod and honestly Im so in love right now. this is just part one but there will be a part two coming :) i hope you like it

By The Sea - Finrod x Reader (Pt. 1)

Finrod finds more than he expected when taking a long holiday to his mothers home in Alqualondë.

A/N: for certain ..... purposes ..... making finrod do they same thing I do when im nervous, i went ahead and gave him his fathers rings

Finrod wanted to be sure that his name was at the top of the list to petition for the new project you proposed to be approved. He wasn’t quite sure exactly what the project was; all he knew was that it had something to do with ship construction and the royal family, and if his name in black ink was enough to keep you around, then write away he would.

It did not, in fact, keep you around. Finrod wasn’t sure why he thought it would. You were, after all, an architect, and visits to the royal court in the great hall were likely few and far between. After about a week and a half since the proposal–when he first was enamored with you, Finrod decided that he needed to do something.

“I have never heard a bigger lie,” said Artanis coolly.

Finrod shrugged. “It’s the truth,” he said, “They never gave directions to the worksite.”

Artanis sighed. “Why do you need to know anyways?”

“I have been tasked with checking up on the progress for the foundations of the project.”

Artanis cut her eyes. She didn’t believe him, but directed him to the worksite nonetheless.

Finrod went north for hours upon hours, it seemed; it was not even one hour. He could hear the wind cut through the fabric of the tents and the waves crash onto the rocky shores. The closer he got, the harder it was for him to think of something to say to you. He could call out your name, but then decided that would be too casual. Besides, you might think it strange that he held on so dearly to your name after a meeting so brief one couldn’t even call it a real meeting. He could introduce himself, but what would he say after that?

“Hello,” came a rich voice, and Finrod realized that deep in his thoughts he stumbled right upon you.

His clothes felt hot and his ring felt tight around his finger. He wondered if his hair had turned to frizz, as it tended to do with all the sea salt in the air. It was all he could do not to stutter.

“Hello,” he replied, “I am Finrod of the house of Finarfin.”

A moment passed.

“I know who you are,” you said. He wondered if you meant to be so harsh until you spoke again, voice softened, “What can I help you with?”

Finrod swallowed. “I have been tasked with checking on the progress on the foundations of the project,” he said. The lie barely slipped through his teeth.

“Really?” you said with a polite smile and twitching eyebrows that betrayed your confusion to the golden-haired prince, “They sent someone out two days ago.”

“Ahh,” Finrod said quietly, “Well there must have been some confusion.”

“I see.”

The silence was tangible. You swallowed. You remembered who he was–Findaráto Ingoldo, firstborn of the crown prince of the Falmari–how could you forget? You’d been dreaming of him since you’d seen him last Tuesday, but now that he was here, all those clever, witty things you said to him as you dreamed of meeting properly seemed to have left you.

Finrod watched your eyes dance to the scene behind him–when they were not glued to the opening of his shirt collar–and wondered what you were thinking about. It was probably the project at hand; but could it be him, as little as you were acquainted? Finrod had taken everything, however little it may be, you gave him when he saw you first last Tuesday and ran with it. You had not left his thoughts.

It occurred to him after a moment of awkward staring that maybe the conversation was over–the silence had gone on awkwardly long. He tried to think of something–anything–to say. Nothing came.

“Well, then,” he said, “I’d better get going. I’ll leave you to it; again I apologize for the confusion. I hope I have not disturbed your work.”

He didn’t want to leave.

“Not at all,” you said, too quickly for your liking, “You can stay as long as you like.”

You didn’t want him to leave.

He gave you a nod, and you cutsied before he turned to go. You turned back to your workbench, half disappointed that he left so soon and half excited that he came. You let out a shaky breath.

“In that case,” came the voice that you hopelessly couldn’t get enough of, “You wouldn’t mind if I stayed, would you? I would very much like to see the ‘hands-on’ aspect of this process.”

You turned and tried to hide the excitement in your eyes. “Of course, Your Highness.”

Finrod blushed. You drank in the sight. If the pink that spread across his cheeks was the last thing you ever saw, you’d be content.

***

“He is perfect in every way,” you said to Earwen, who, to your surprise, decided to take the weaving of the sails upon herself. You hadn’t expected the daughter of the king to engage so closely with the project, but, you supposed, if it was her talent and passion, so why not?

“I cannot get enough of him. I hope he never stops visiting me.”

Earwen smiled, “Will he visit for the celebration?”

“Of course, Your Highness” you said confidently, “He is the son of the crown prince! He wouldn’t miss it.”

Finrod was royalty, yes, but deep down you knew he’d come even if he wasn’t. Months of sitting in silence with two pairs of feet dangling in the salty water and choosing cold bread over a hearty dinner fit for a prince told you that even if you were dismissed from the project and cast to the jagged cliffs and treacherous temperament of the sea to the north, Finrod would come for you.

The door creaked open to reveal none other than Finrod himself.

“Fi–my prince,” you said politely, forgoing first-name use in mind of the royalty next to you.

Finrod didn’t seem to care. “There you are!” He said, “I have been looking for you. The eggs on the rocks by the lower dock have hatched!”

“Have they?”

“Yes,” he said, “And they have the loveliest silver down. Will you be free after six?”

Your hands stopped their movement, “I think so, but I–”

Finrod took your hand, as he always did when departing, and planted a hasty kiss on it, “Great. I will meet you then. You must see them!”

He ran out before you could answer. You giggled at his excitability and looked over to Earwen.

“Is that him?”

You smiled sheepishly and looked away.

“Yes,” you said. If you saw the smirk that played at her lips you would have seen that she knew more than she let on. “Absolutely perfect.”

#the silm fandom #the silmarillion #tolkien #silm fic #silmarillion #finrod #finrod felagund #finrod x reader #findarato #ingoldo #findarato x reader

35 notes · View notes

doodle-pops · 2 years ago

Text

Lairelótë

Finrod x fem! reader

Request: Can I request a soft moment with Finrod x fem! reader fic? Him and his wife recently welcomed their firstborn, a girl perhaps and he's all gushing and soft with his baby. Constantly wanting to hold her and such and maybe mummy has to beg I'm to hold her baby 😂. Excited dad Finrod is sweet and I love him. - Anon

A/N: I decided to give you anxious dad Finrod in the mix. He's just so soft and precious being a first-time dad.

Warning: fluff, breastfeeding, Celegorm makes an appearance, reader being in pain because of childbirth (it’s not described), Finrod being a nervous and excited dad, he's so soft

Word: 2.1k

Synopsis: First-time dad to his baby girl, Finrod is beyond anxious to meet his bundle of joy.

Pacing the corridor like a madman, the golden-haired King tugged at his no longer neatly adorned curls and circlet. His ringlets were sticking out in every direction and his crown was long removed from his head after his accidental attempt at raking a hand through his hair and tossing the delicate object against the wall. The poor, younger nurses who were tasked with keeping the King calm and preventing him from breaking through the gold and cream doors were finding their mission growing more difficult with each passing minute. The more you moaned and groaned from behind the doors, the more panicked looks the nurses sent to the guards to lend a hand at restraining their exceedingly strong King.

Once he was pacing the corridor, creating tracks and trenches in the deep, rich red carpet, now he was standing before the door with his men and the last visitor he would expect to appear at such a family moment, Celegorm. The silver-hair prince learnt of the guards' weak attempts at restraining his formidable cousin and decided to kindly lend his hands— anything to have a little moment to be rough with the King. The nurses had taken a step back to rub their hands after tediously restraining their King. While the guards stood on either side of the double doors, Celegorm stood behind Finrod with one hand interwoven in his sunflower gold robes and a grimace look on his face. The sounds of your groans were a bit unpleasant to his ear and gave him the impression you were not having an enjoyable delivery.

From Celegorm’s point of view, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the dreadful look on his cousin’s face. Any moment now, he swore Finrod would rip his way out of his grasp and break down those doors. Was he not accustomed to child delivery by now? His mother did give birth three times after him, he should be familiar to the process. Unfortunately, Finrod was far from familiar with the process since this was you and his first child. Busy in a meeting when you immediately went into labour, Finrod dropped his papers and raced out of the courtroom without a dismissal to his court. By the time he reached, you were already admitted, and he wasn’t permitted to enter during delivery.

Another cry went off from you and Finrod attempted to wiggle out of his cousin’s grasp but was stopped when it was followed by another. This one was softer despite its loud pitch. He could hear the quiet coos and the cheers from the midwives and no longer any of your groans. For a moment in time, Finrod’s struggling ceased and he stood still at the dawn of realisation. His eyes widened as he stared at the cream and gold coloured doors, straining his ears to listen for more coos from the tiny guest that entered the world. He knew what those sounds represented having heard them three times before, but his heart and mind weren’t functioning correctly to process the recognition. He simply kept staring at the door, attempting to rotate the cogs in his mind to comprehend the completion of the situation.

“Congratulations cousin,” a rough, yet softer voice resonated from behind. Finrod still made no movement to acknowledge the well-wishes his cousin gave to him for he was still waiting to hear the final say from the midwives.

The grip on his robe eased up, as did the tension between him and his guards when they noticed he was no longer attempting to tear through them. Sensing a presence to his left followed by a slap to his shoulder and a rough, friendly shake, he snapped out of his trance with the door and turned his head robotically to face his beaming cousin. “You’re an atya now. To what, boy or girl?” Celegorm quizzed.

Blinking and flapping his lips to find the right words to respond, he sputtered, “Um…uh…a boy? Maybe a girl? I don’t know, w-…we wanted to wait until b-birth.” His eyes were distant while he spoke to Celegorm, though the latter found his younger cousin’s reaction hilarious. Clapping him on his back once more, he tugged him to have a seat on the chair while they cleaned you and the baby. “Relax cousin, they’re probably cleaning her up so she can feel a little more comfortable. The midwives would come for you shortly.”

“How do you know all this?” Finrod questioned puzzled at the knowledge Celegorm displayed.

Casting the King a confounded look, he snorted his response, “Whenever ammë gave birth, we were all there outside waiting. Did this not occur with your ammë when she was…”

It was as if a light went off in Finrod’s head at the mention of this process occurring numerous times before. Slowly nodding his head before breaking into a vigorous shake, he hummed, “Uh, yes, yes. I—uh, I forgot for a moment. Forgive me, it's all of this…” He waved his hand through the air and towards the door to explain the reason for his memory shortage. Celegorm couldn’t help but release another peal of laughter. This was the loopiest he had ever seen his cousin aside from his drunken state.

It wasn’t long before the King needed to wait before the sound of approaching footsteps was heard and the door swung open to reveal the midwife. After an hour of biting his nails and tugging at his hair, his patience wore off. “Your Majesty, your wife and your…little one request your presence at once,” she spoke with a bow off her head before stepping aside and allowing him to fly into the room.

Once the door was shut, he stood at the centre with his hands beside him stiffly as he peered into your arms. Craning his neck and slightly tipping on his toes, he watched as you cooed and held up the tiny finger to your lips before giving it a little kiss and nibble. A face filled with wonder and awe at the little bundle of creation you held in your arms, Finrod couldn’t believe his eyes. After twelve months of impatient waiting, she was here. Slowly, a smile crept onto his face the longer he observed and twisted his neck to have a better view. Had it not been for the midwife who gave him a gentle push towards the bed, Finrod would have remained standing at the centre all day.

Approaching you on the tip of his toes, he clasped his hands before him and peered into the swaddle of blankets at a round chubby face with his blue–green eyes and sunflower golden curls, staring at you. The breathless inhale he took at the reflection of himself prompted tears to sprout from the corners of his eyes. A choked sob fell from his lips as he knelt on the carpeted floor and cradled your body— face burying into your shoulder and thanking you for making his life complete. His golden curls fell around him majestically as he expressed his happiness at the new life you brought into this world.

“It would be wrong of me to not say thank you, wouldn’t it?” You paused to twist your neck to land a kiss on his head. “Why don’t you say hello to her, and you can thank me later with some food,” you giggled into his hair.

Peeking at you through his lashes, his face broke into a blinding smile before he cast his gaze upon his little one who was busy feeding away. Her little mouth formed an ‘o’ as she latched onto your breast and drowned herself in her first batch of food in the real world. The tiny coos she emitted while she drank away urged the newfound father to stretch his left hand out and allow her to wrap those tiny fingers around his giant finger. Not even sparing him a glance as she fed herself, she managed to apply her already famous Arafinwean grip that made him gleam with excellence. “She’s strong! My babygirl is strong!” he exclaimed.

His daughter was already showing signs of being mighty like her father which made his heart swell with pride. His gaze at her was filled with immense joy the longer he looked on. Cautiously, his right hand rose to brush the blanket off and cradled her head; it was then her gaze shifted from your breast to him. “Hello little one…w-wait, what are we going to call her? Have we a name decided?” Panic and excitement rose in his voice once he realised that all he could call his daughter was little one and no real name. At the shift in his aura, her grip on his finger tightened and she released a gurgle. “Hm, it seems that she’s eager to learn of her name as well darling. What shall we call her?”

Sitting quietly as your thoughts ran off to ponder at the question, the air was light and fresh, filled with the scent of primrose and lavender, along with other healing herbs and cleaning liquids. The intense iron was no longer staining the air with its pungent and nauseating odour; you were able to breathe the clean air once again. Filling your lungs with the sweet fragrance of relaxing herbs and basking in the melodious songs of the birds, joyously singing about new life entering the world and praising them, you glowed even brighter. Perhaps it was the after-effect of bringing life into the world or the revelation of being a mother after all these years of being without a child. Either way, you were brimming with sunshine— as though the literal sun was not sitting in your arms.

The longer you pondered, the deeper your mind travelled, and your foresight struck. “I was thinking about how she’s so bright like the sun, why not call her sun…sunshine…summer?” you whispered while you stroked her curls.

“Summer…summer…” he repeated while looking around to complete the name, it felt like it was missing something to make it perfect for his daughter. Casting a glance through the window, his eyes landed on the pink bloom causing a grin to appear. “Summer flower! Lairelótё for my little sunshine.” Her little hand that gripped his finger applied greater pressure in rejoicing at the selection of her name. She couldn’t help but slip a small smile at the corners of her mouth while she fed.

“It appears that she approves of her name.”

“So it seems, isn’t that right my little Lairelótё?”

Finding the voice of her father comforting and entertaining, she managed to pull away from your breast and cast her gaze upon him. Little gurgles and grunts slipped from her lips as she engaged in conversation with her father. Her eyes twinkled with the same glee that his eyes shone with the more they conversed. Sweet names flowed from his lips in her direction and all she responded with were toothless grins and her typical baby noises, but in Finrod’s heart, he knew she adored them. Every call from him was filled with the utmost love and affection a father’s love for his daughter could possibly contain.

“Why don’t you hold her, I’d like to have some rest. That way you two can continue your conversation,” you chimed in, cutting their discussion off.

“Sure.” He glowed. Carefully rising to his feet and planting a kiss on your forehead, Finrod reached down to pry the swaddled baby out of your arms and into his. She rested perfectly in the crook of his elbow like it was made to hold her from the start. “She’s so tiny! Thank you for bringing her into this world and giving me the opportunity to be a father,” he gushed as he looked down at her angelic features and rubbed his nose against her button one.

Through hooded eyes, you gazed at him wearily and drowning with sleep as you looked at their interaction, warmness crept into your bosom and filled you with mirth. It was a memory to cherish for a lifetime. “Hm, you are welcome, but if you’ll excuse me, I have some rest to catch up on. You two can continue to converse…I’ll be sleeping.”

Lifting his head from their mini interaction, Finrod nodded his head and bid you peaceful rest, “Sleep well, my love, and thank you.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @eunoiaastralwings @noldorinpainter @ranhanabi777 @spidergirla5 @lilmelily @someoneinthestars @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @floraroselaughter @singleteapot @the-phantom-of-arda @rain-on-my-umbrella @asianbutnotjapanese @ilu-stripes @justellie17 @justjane @silverose365

152 notes · View notes