#is thinking about a fallen Galad

[thrillofhope]

Thinking about the transition from Adar on his throne in Mordor to Gil-galad singing in Lindon about the fading of the elves. A fallen elf, a king who has made a kingdom of darkness and one who laments the fading of the light and that to remain in the kingdom he has built would be to “diminish forever into endless night.”

[simone8210]

Please, Change the Prophecy: Celebrimbor x Reader - Part I

Been working on this for the last couple of days. Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 15.932, Present time = Normal, Past = Cursive

Please let me know what you think! Enjoy!

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The sea breeze clung to me as I stood at the helm of the ship, eyes fixed on the distant shores of Lindon. Home. We had been away for so long, chasing shadows and searching for Sauron in vain. But now, as the glittering towers of the city emerged from the mist, a hollow ache gnawed at my chest. I should have felt relief, or joy, but all I could feel was the weight of failure. And the silence that came after it. 

I glanced over at Galadriel, her gaze steely and resolute, despite the weariness in her features. The rest of the company had fallen into a quiet murmur, but none dared to meet her eyes after the mutiny. None except me. 

I had stood by her. How could I not? She was right. Sauron was out there, and we hadn’t yet found him. 

When the ship docked, and we disembarked, my feet felt heavy on the wooden pier. It felt odd to be back. I closed my eyes and let the warm sun and breeze try to calm me. I stood there for a moment relishing in the comforts of home. 

“Lady Arínel,” a voice said, breaking the tranquillity. I looked up and saw an Ellon standing there looking apologetic. 

“The High-King request your presence,” he informed. I nodded and moved to follow him before he stopped and offered me another apologetic look. “Perhaps, you might like to bathe and change first.” 

I looked down at myself and saw the grease on my armour. “Perhaps you’re right,” I replied with a small chuckle. 

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The warmth of the water cascaded over me, washing away the grime and fatigue from our long journey. I stood under the stream, letting the heat seep into my sore muscles, soothing the deep ache that had settled into my bones. My fingers trembled as I reached up to scrub away the dirt, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t scrub away the weight that clung to my heart. 

It had been months since I’d last felt truly clean, since I’d felt at home. And yet, here I was, standing in my own chambers in Lindon, feeling as though I didn’t belong. 

When I finally emerged from the bath, my skin pink from the heat, I dried myself off and looked at the simple tunic and trousers I had worn for so long. It felt strange to wear something so fine after decades of travelling, but I pulled on the regal gown that had been laid out for me, the deep blue fabric rich and heavy. It clinched at the waist with a delicate silver belt, the kind that matched my station, though I hadn’t felt like it for quite some time. The weight of the silver circlet they had placed beside the gown seemed like an unnecessary burden, but I slid it on anyway, knowing that my brother would expect me to appear formal. 

I looked at myself in the mirror. The contrast was stark. I no longer felt like the princess of the Noldor, though I had been one for centuries. But in that moment, I longed for the simplicity of the journey, the purpose I had clung to while following Galadriel into the unknown. 

But now we were back in Lindon. The search for Sauron had come to an end, though not in the way Galadriel and I, had intended. I couldn’t help but dread a little over the upcoming conversation. The High-King has summoned me. No doubt, he wants to speak about why I had followed Galadriel when he had called us back: Why I had defied his orders. 

I took a deep breath, smoothing down the gown before leaving my chambers and making my way through the familiar halls of the palace. Despite the grandeur, I felt uneasy, a stranger in my own home after so much time away. The weight of what had transpired hung over me as I approached my brother’s study. 

When I reached the door, I hesitated for a moment before knocking softly. 

“Enter,” Gil-Galad’s voice called from the other side, steady and authoritative, as always. 

I pushed open the door and stepped inside. The warmth of the fire did little to soothe the flutter of nerves in my chest. The grand doors had closed behind me with a soft thud, leaving me alone with the brother I had not seen in many long years. He was standing by the window, his gaze cast out over the city as the evening light filtered through painting the room in a golden hue.  His regal figure outlined against the light. His presence had always commanded a room, but now, I could see the weight of his burden etched into his features. 

He turned when he heard my footsteps, and for a moment, the stern High-King of the Noldor disappeared. In his place, my older brother stood, the one who had once chased me through the meadows of Aman, laughing, calling me by our childhood names. His sharp gaze softened as he looked at me. 

“Nésa,” he breathed, crossing the room in a few long strides. His was warm, the Elvish term for ‘sister’ slipping from his lips like a cherished memory. His hands found my shoulders, and I saw the tension melt from his face as he took me in. 

I did not realise how much I had missed him until that moment. My throat tightened, and I could only manage a soft, “Toron-nín,” my voice trembling with emotion as I called him ‘my brother’. 

Without another word, Gil-Galad pulled me into his strong arms, holding me close. For a brief moment, the weight of the world felt far away, and I was simply his little sister again, safe in his embrace. I closed my eyes, sinking in the familiarity of it, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest as he held me tightly. 

“It brings me joy to see you again, and whole.” His voice was softer now, his expression one of relief. I could feel his concern, his worry, woven into words. 

I pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him. “And you, Toron,” I replied, my smile tentative, though my heart felt lighter just being in his presence. “I missed you.” 

He chuckled softly, brushing a stray strand of my damp hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering on my cheek. “I missed you too, nethig,” he said, using the Elvish word for ‘little one’, a term of endearment that, despite our ages, he had never stopped using. 

For a moment neither of us spoke. The silence stretched comfortably between us, a welcome contrast to the tension that had weighed down my heart for so long. But then his expression turned more serious, and I saw the flicker of concern return to his eyes. 

“I wanted to commend you,” he began, his voice calm but carrying a hint of concern. “You showed great bravery by standing by Galadriel’s side when the others did not. Even though it went against my orders.” 

His words should have filled me with pride, but instead they made my heart ache. “I couldn’t abandon her,” I said quietly, glancing down at my hands. “Not when she was right.” 

Gil-Galad sighed softly. 

“Why did you go, Arínel? Truly?” His voice was gentle, but there was no mistaking the depth of his question. “When I called you all home…why did you follow Galadriel instead?”

I hesitated, my heart pounding in my chest. I had known this question would come, and yet, I still wasn’t prepared for it. My gaze faltered, drifting toward the fire as I tried to gather my thoughts. 

“I believed in her cause,” I answered, though the words sounded weak, even to my own ears. “I went because I believed in her cause. Because I wanted to protect our people.” 

He sighed, his hand still resting on my shoulder. “I do not doubt your loyalty, nor your bravery. You were always loyal to a fault.” His eyes softened, searching my face. “But there was more to it, wasn’t there?”

I froze. I felt my heart clench. I looked up at him trying to play confused. 

“Is that all?” he asked, his tone gentle but probing. 

I swallowed hard, avoiding his gaze. “Of course.” 

He raised an eyebrow, not convinced by my answer. “I’m your brother, Arínel. I know you well enough to know when you’re hiding something.” 

“I know not of what you speak.” I tried to deflect as I tried to get away from him. Away from the situation. But his grip on my shoulder grounded me as his eyes kept trying to search for mine.

The weight of his words pressed down on me, and I felt the familiar sting of regret rise in my chest. “It was nothing,” I muttered, hoping to brush it aside. 

But my brother wasn’t so easily deterred. “Was it…because of a certain Lord of Eregion?”

My breath caught in my throat, and I looked up at him, startled by his question. He watched me closely, his eyes filled with understanding. 

I swallowed hard, trying to keep the emotions from surfacing. “It wasn’t just Galadriel,” he said softly, leaning closer. “It was Celebrimbor.” 

My heart clenched at the sound of his name, and I looked away, ashamed of how transparent my feelings had become. I should have known I couldn’t hide the truth from my brother. Not after all these years. 

“Celebrimbor?” I echoed weakly, my voice barely a whisper. 

Gil-Galad’s expression was gently, yet unrelenting. “He is why you left, isn’t he? Why you followed Galadriel in the first place?” 

I looked away, my heart clenching painfully in my chest. This was the first time I’d heard it spoken aloud, the first time anyone had acknowledged the truth I had tried so hard to bury. 

“He rejected you, didn’t he?” He asked softly. 

The words hit harder than I expected, the truth of them breaking through the fragile walls I had built around my heart. My throat tightened, and for the first time, I allowed myself to fully acknowledge the depth of my own heartache. 

“Yes,” I whispered trembling, my voice barely audible. “He did. I thought… I thought if I left, I could forget.”

Gil-Galad’s brow furrowed, and he cupped my face in his hands, his touch tender and full of understanding. “Amin nethig,” he murmured softly, “Why did you not tell me?”

I couldn’t meet his gaze, not with the shame burning in my chest. “Because it was foolish,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “He…he never felt the same. And I –” I swallowed back a sob, the memory of that moment still raw in my mind. “I told him how I felt, and he… he was kind, but he did not love me. He never can.” 

The memory of Celebrimbor’s gentle rejection came rushing back – his kind eyes filled with regret as he explained that his heart belonged to his work; that he had no room for love. That I was dear to him, but not in the way I had hoped. 

My brother’s arms tightened around me, and he drew me close once more, pressing his forehead to mine in a gesture of comfort. “Lle naa amin mela, Arínel,” he whispered, the words slipping out in our native tongue. Though it was the love of a brother, it was fierce and unwavering. “You are not foolish. You are strong. Stronger than anyone I know.”

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I allowed myself to lean into his embrace, the pain of Celebrimbor’s rejection mingling with the comfort of my brother’s love.  “You are my beloved too, Toron,” I whispered back, repeating his words. 

“You deserved better,” Gil-Galad continued, his voice thick with emotion. “You deserved someone who could love you the way you loved him.” 

I closed my eyes, letting the warmth of his words sink in. “But I chose to love him, toron. Even if it was unreturned.” 

He pulled back slightly, looking into my eyes with a sad but understanding smile. “That is the truest kind of love, Arínel. But it does not mean you must suffer because of it.” 

For the first time in a long while, I allowed myself to cry, my tears flowing freely as my brother held me close. His presence, his understanding, was enough to begin mending the cracks in my heart. 

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The gates of Eregion loomed tall and shining in the midday sun as I rode towards them. The white banners of the Gwaith-i-Mírdain fluttered in the breeze, their silver threads catching the light. My heart raced as the city of the jewel smiths came into view, gleaming and proud against the distant peaks. I had longed to come here – to see with my own eyes the work of the great craftsmen of Eregion, and more importantly, to learn from the master himself: Lord Celebrimbor. 

My arrival was met with honour and grandeur, befitting my station as a princess of the Noldor. Yet, the titles felt foreign to me here. Eregion had its own grandeur, and though I was addressed formally as “Lady Arínel,” I sensed a difference – a warmth that was rare in the courts of Lindon. This place was filled with scholars and creators, not statesmen or soldiers. It was a world of beauty and invention, where the weight of titles seemed less important than the joy of creation.

As I dismounted, one of Celebrimbor’s advisors approached me, bowing respectfully. “Lady Arínel, we are honoured by your visit. Lord Celebrimbor awaits you in the great hall. Will you allow us to escort you?” 

I nodded graciously, though my heart pounded in anticipation. I had heard so much about him – the last heir of Fëanor’s line, a master craftsman, and a leader with a mind that shaped wonders. It had been some time since we had met, only briefly, when he had come to court with my brother Gil-Galad. He had spoken to me little then, but there had been a spark of something in his eyes – kindness, curiosity. It was that spark that had stayed with me all these years. 

The hall of Celebrimbor’s house was vast, filled with light from the tall windows and tapestries woven with silver and gold. When he appeared, walking toward me, his presence commanded the room without effort. He was dressed simply, a smith’s apron still over his fine tunic, but there was an elegance about him. His hazel hair kept shorter than most with curls. His piercing warm eyes that held a wisdom and intensity that left me breathless. 

“Lady Arínel,” he said with a small smile, bowing slightly, though there was a twinkle in his eyes. “It is an honour to have you here in Eregion. I trust your journey was pleasant?” 

“It was,” I replied, my voice steady though my heart skipped a beat. “My brother sends his regards, and I bring tidings from Lindon.” I gestured to the letters I carried, though it felt almost secondary. Celebrimbor’s gaze was so focused, so intent, it was hard to remember the formalities. 

“Come,” he said, gesturing for me to follow. “We have prepared a feast in your honour. "

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That evening, a feast was held in the grand dining hall of the city, and I found myself seated near Lord Celebrimbor. As the night wore on, I felt the initial formality melt away. He spoke to me, not as a princess, nor with the distant politeness of a diplomat, but with the warmth of a fellow scholar. He asked me about my studies, my interest in lore, and what had drawn me to Eregion. 

“I have always admired the work of the Mírdain,” I confessed, smiling as I turned to look at him. “But I must admit, it was your work that intrigues me most. The stories of your creations have reached event he halls of Lindon. Your skill with the forge is unmatched.”

Lord Celebrimbor laughed softly, a sound that sent a pleasant warmth through me. “You flatter me, Lady Arínel. Though I must say, the praise means much, coming from one of the High-King’s kin.” 

I felt my cheeks grow warm at his words. There was something in the way he spoke that made me feel seen – not as a princess, but as someone who genuinely appreciated the beauty of the craft. 

As the night wore on, we talked more – about the past, about the nature of creation, about his plans for the future of Eregion. And as the hours passed, my admiration for him deepened. There was a grace in the way he spoke, a passion in his words, and a kindness that I had not expected. He was unlike any other lord I had ever knonw. 

By the end of the feast, my thoughts were consumed with him. 

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Eregion was nothing like Lindon. Though both cities thrive with the pulse of elvendom, Eregion’s spirit was tied to craft and creation. The forges burned endlessly, casting a warm glow over the city, while the sounds of hammers and anvils echoed in the air. It was a place of endless potential, and I could feel it in every breath I took as I arrived. 

The first days were filled with introductions and invitations from scholars, eager to share their knowledge with the High-King’s sister. The halls of Eregion were full of brilliance, each comer revealing new ideas, new wonders. It was overwhelming, but I was determined to learn as much as I could. 

One morning, I wandered the library, pouring over scrolls on ancient metallurgy, I heard a familiar voice. 

“Ahh, Lady Arínel, lost in the world of lore, I see.” 

I looked up to find Lord Celebrimbor standing at the entrance of the chamber, his smile gentle but curious. His presence had always carried a quiet power, but here, in his realm, he seemed even more at ease, more confident. 

“I am trying to keep up with the wisdom of Eregion,” I replied, standing to greet him. “Though it seems impossible,” 

He chuckled softly. “Impossible is not a word we use here.” He stepped closer, his gaze sweeping over the scrolls I gathered. “But I think we both know that some lessons are not found in books.” 

His eyes met mine with the hint of amusement. “Come, let me show you the heart of Eregion.” 

We left the library, walking through the bustling streets toward the grand forge of the city. The air was thick with heat and the scent of molten metal. As we entered, the artisans and smiths within all nodded their respects to their lord, who led me further inside, where the private forge stood, untouched by anyone but him. 

“This is where true creation happens,” he said, gesturing to the tools and the roaring fire. 

The sight of the forge was mesmerising, and the warmth it exuded wrapped around me. it was a space where raw materials became art, where the impossible was made possible. I stepped closer, drawn to the flams, but Lord Celebrimbor caught my wrist gently, stopping me. 

“Careful,” he warned softly, his voice low. “It is not just the fire that can burn.” 

I looked up at him, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the forge. His hand lingered on my wrist for just a moment longer than necessary, and when he released me, I felt the absence keenly. 

He stepped beside me, picking up a piece of metal from the workbench. “Have you ever crafted before, my lady?” 

“No, I have not,” I admitted, my voice quieter than I intended. “But I would like to learn.” 

He smiled again, the same gentle amusement lighting his eyes. “Then let me teach you.” 

He placed the metal before me and handed me a small hammer. “This is delicate work,” he said, standing closer behind me now. “You must feel the metal, let it speak to you.” 

I could feel his presence keenly – he was close, far too close to what some might deem proper. His breath brushed my ear as he spoke and when his hand covered mine to guide the hammer, I could feel the strength in his touch. My heart raced, though I tried to remain focused on the task before me. 

“Like this,” he murmured, guiding my hand in smooth motion over the heated metal. “It is not just about force – it’s about precision. You must be in tune with the material.” 

I nodded, though the hammer felt light in my hand, and my attention wavered. How could I concentrate when he was so near me, his warmth pressing against me, his voice so low and intimate? 

We worked in silence for a few moments, and soon the piece of metal began to take shape – slender and round, forming the beginnings of a ring. 

“You are a natural,” Lord Celebrimbor said, his voice soft with approval. 

I dared a glance at him, but his expression was focused, his eyes on the ring we were shaping together. There was nothing in his demeanour to suggest he was aware of the storm of emotions raging within me. he was only being kind, as he always was. 

He released my hand and stepped back, allowing me to finish the delicate work on my own. “Now, temper it,” he instructed, pointing to the quenching water nearby. 

I did as he said, though my hands trembled slightly. When the ring was cooled, I held it up for him to see. 

“A fine piece,” he said smiling again. “It is yours, if you wish it.��� 

I stared at the ring, surprised. “You made this for me?” 

“No,” he corrected gently, “we made it. It is as much yours as it is mine.”

His words stirred something deep withing me, but before I could respond, he turned to gather more tools. “I’ll have it engraved for you later.” 

The moment passed, and I let out a quiet breath. My heart was still racing, and though he didn’t seem to notice my inner turmoil, I knew it was only a matter of time before my feelings for him would overwhelm me.  

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It had been days since Lord Celebrimbor and I had crafted the ring together, and the memory still played over and over in my mind – the way his hands guided mine, the warmth of the forge, and the excitement of creation that filled the air between us. I had spent much of my time since then wandering the halls of Eregion, meeting with scholars and exploring its wonders. 

That evening, I was sitting on the balcony of my chambers, gazing out at the city as the last light of say melted into dusk. The soft murmur of the city below filled the air, and a cool breeze brushed past, carrying the scent of blooming flowers from the gardens. 

A knock at my door pulled me from my thoughts, and I rose quickly, adjusting my gown before answering. To my surprise, it was Lord Celebrimbor, standing in the doorway with a familiar velvet pouch in hand and an easy smile on his face. 

“Good evening, my lady. I do hope I’m not interrupting,” he greeted. “May I join you?” he asked, his voice soft but warm. 

“Good evening, my lord,” I greeted. “No not at all. Of course, do come in” I continued, stepping aside to let him in. 

He entered the room with the same quiet grace he always carried, and as he crossed the threshold, I couldn’t help but feel a sudden flutter in my chest. The connection we had shared in the forge was still fresh, and seeing him now, so close again, sent a thrill through me. 

“I brought something for you to see,” he said, holding up the small pouch. 

Curious, I took it from him and carefully opened the pouch. Inside was the ring we had crafted together, but it had been transformed. The band was now engraved with delicate, swirling patterns, and in its centre, a sparkling gem had been set – a deep, rich blue that seemed to glow in the fading light. 

“You finished it,” I breathed, tracing the engravings with my fingertips. “It’s beautiful” I gasped. 

Lord Celebrimbor smiled, a hint of pride in his eyes. “I thought it deserved a little more attention. I hope you like the additions. I thought the blue would match your eyes.” 

“I love it,” I saift softly, feeling a warmth spread through me. He nodded at me with a smile before meeting my gaze. 

He gestured toward the balcony. “Shall we sit? I brought some wine.” 

I nodded, leading him outside where the night air was cooler, the stars beginning to dot the sky above. We sat side by side on the stone bench, and Lord Celebrimbor poured us both a glass of wine from a flask he had brought. 

“To Eregion,” he said with a grin, raising his glass. 

“To Eregion,” I echoed, tapping my glass lightly against his. 

We sipped in comfortable silence for a moment, watching the city below as torches were lit and the night began to settle in. the soft hum of the city and the distant sounds of laughter filled the air, creating a peaceful atmosphere around us. 

“How have you been spending your time?” Celebrimbor asked, breaking the quiet. 

“Oh, you know,” I replied with a smile, “exploring, studying, meeting your scholars. Eregion is… remarkable. I find something new every day.” 

His eyes lit up at my words. “I’m glad you think so. It’s my hope that Eregion can become a beacon of knowledge and creation – where people come not just to learn, but to share in the joy of crafting something new.” 

“And you’ve certainly succeeded,” I said earnestly. “it’s unlike any place I’ve ever been.” 

Celebrimbor leaned back slightly, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “It’s not just the city or the forges that make it special, you know. It’s the people – the connections we make. Without that, Eregion would be just a place, like any other.” 

I nodded, understanding his meaning. “It’s true. I feel… I feel more connected here than I’ve ever felt anywhere else. Like I belong. In Lindon, my brother’s shadow can be quite big that it overshadows.” 

He looked at me then, his gaze lingering a little longer than usual. “I’m sorry to hear that, but I am glad that you find yourself at home in my city. That means I have somewhat achieved the goal I had set out.” 

The moment stretched between us, and I felt my heart skip a beat. there was something unspoken in the air, something that I didn’t’ quite know how to put into words. I took another sip of wine, hoping to calm the sudden rush of emotion that had filled me. 

“I didn’t come just to show you the labour of our craft. I came to gift it to you.” He said after a moment, breaking the tension. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the pouch and took the ring we had crafted together, holding it out towards me. 

“As I stated earlier, I’ve made a few more changes,” he explained, turning it over in his hands. “It is not just a ring anymore. It holds… power. A small amount, meagre even, but enough to show what we’re capable of. I wanted you to have it.” 

I stared at the ring, my breath catching in my throat. “You…you want me to have it?”

He smiled softly, nodding. “Yes. it’s a reminder of what we created together. I couldn’t think of anyone more deserving.” 

Emotion welled up in me, and for a moment, I didn’t know how to respond. My hand trembled slightly as I reached out to take the ring from him, and as our fingers brushed a spark of something passed between us. My skin tingled where he touched me, and for a fleeting second, I thought I saw something in his eyes – something more than just friendship. 

“Hannon le.” I whispered, unable to say more. 

“It was my pleasure, my lady,” he replied, his voice equally soft. 

We sat there in silence again, the weight of the moment settling between us. I wanted to say something, to express the feelings that had been building inside me for so long, but the words wouldn’t come. My heart raced, and I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, hoping he would say something, anything, to break the spell. Thank the Valar, for they listened. 

There was a sudden knock at the door. 

“My lord,” a guard’s voice called from inside. “Forgive the interruption, but there is a matter that requires your attention.” 

Lord Celebrimbor sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Of course,” he muttered, standing up from the bench. 

He turned to me, his expression apologetic. “I’m sorry, my lady. Duty calls.” 

I forced a smile, though my heart sank. “It’s alright. I understand.” 

He hesitated for a moment, then gave me a small reassuring smile. “I’ll see you again soon.” 

I rose and followed him inside. Celebrimbor opened the door, spoke a few words to the waiting guard, and then with one last lingering glance in my direction, he stepped out into the hall. The door closed softly behind him, and I was left alone, the ring still clutched in my hand. I stared down at it, feeling both elated and admired its beauty.

I went back out on the balcony and sat down slowly, my heart still racing from the moments we shared. The warmth of our laughter, his gentle compliments, and the intensity of our conversation still lingered in the air, wrapping around me like a comforting cloak. But now, without his presence, the night suddenly felt too quiet, the space between us too wide. 

I stared out at the city below, trying to let the beauty of the starlit sky distract me. But my mind kept drifting back to him – how close we had been, how his eyes had held mine so intensely, how his voice had softened when he spoke of things that truly mattered to him. 

I sighed, taking another sip of wine, trying to settle my thoughts. I had to accept that he would not return tonight. He was the Lord of Eregion, after all. There were always matters to attend to, responsibilities that took precedence. It was foolish of me to hope otherwise. 

I stood, moving to the edge of the balcony to lean against the stone railing, feeling the cool night air on my face. It was peaceful here, and I tried to focus on that – to enjoy the quiet solitude and let the evening end gracefully. 

And yet, just as I was about to turn back to my chambers, I heard the soft creak of the door opening behind me. 

I froze, my breath catching in my throat as I turned slowly. 

There he was, standing in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the soft light from within. His eyes met mine, and he smiled – a slow, almost teasing smile that sent my heart racing all over again. 

“You didn’t think I’d leave you waiting, did you?” he said, his voice low and warm. 

I blinked, too surprised to answer right away. “I…I thought you had more pressing matters,” I managed to say, my voice betraying the shock I felt. 

He stepped forward, closing the door softly behind him, his gaze never leaving mine. “Nothing pressing enough to keep me away from your delightful company for long,” he said, moving back to the bench where we had been sitting before. He gestured for me to join him, and I followed, my heart pounding in my chest. 

“You know,” he began slowly, “I didn’t come here just to deliver the ring. I was hoping we could talk a little longer.” His gaze flickered to the darkening sky, and he smiled. “The evening is still young, after all.” 

I couldn’t help the warmth that blossomed in my chest at his words. “I’d like that,” I replied softly. 

Celebrimbor sat down beside me again, settling back into a comfortable posture, his arm resting casually on the bench. The tension of the previous moment dissolved, replaced by something easier, more familiar. 

He handed me my wine again, and I took a small sip, glancing at him over the rim of my glass. His face was half in shadow, but his eyes still gleamed with that particular intensity I had come to recognise. 

I couldn’t help but smile, feeling a mixture of relief and joy flood through me. “I admit, I wasn’t’ expecting you to come back.” 

“Ah,” he said, leaning back comfortably, “then I am glad to have surprised you.” 

He poured me some more wine, and I took a small sip, once again glancing at him over the rim of my glass. 

“Now, what were we talking about before we were so rudely interrupted?” he asked, a teasing smile on his lips. 

I chuckled. “I believe we were discussing your ring-making prowess,” I said, holding up the newly finished piece between us. 

He laughed – a genuine, warm sound that sent shivers through me. “Ah, yes. My prowess. How could I forget?” 

“You did say  Eregion was about more than the physical craft,” I teased, “But you never said what else it was about for you.” 

Celebrimbor’s smile faded slightly, replaced by something more contemplative. He reached out gently and took the ring from my hands. He turned the ring in his hands watching as the starlight caught on its gem. “It’s about the pursuit of something higher,” he said slowly. “Crafting is important, yes – more than just a trade. It’s… creation. The act of making something that never existed before, something that can endure long after we’re gone. It’s about beauty. And light.” 

His voice grew quieter, as if the weight of his thoughts was pulling him inward. “But it’s also about what we leave behind. The knowledge we pass on, the wisdom we share. What’s the point of creating if there’s no one to understand it’s significance? That’s what I live about this place – the scholars, the people who come here. They do not just want to make things. They want to learn, to grow, to understand the deeper meaning of it all.” 

I watched him as he spoke, feeling my heart sweel. His passion was palpable, his words laced with a profound belief that touched something inside me. 

“You have a remarkable mind, my lord,” I said quietly. “To see beyond what others might. To recognise that true power is not just the things we create, but the knowledge we leave behind.” 

He glanced at me, something unreadable flicking in his eyes before his smile returned. “And you, my lady, are full of surprises yourself.” 

I blinked, taken aback by his sudden shift in tone. “Surprises?” 

“Yes,” he said, leaning forward a little, his eyes dancing with amusement. “You may be a scholar, a princess even,” he teased, making me scoff good-naturedly. “But you have the wisdom of someone who’s lived through much. I’m not sure I’ve met many with your depth of thought. How is it that someone so young – relatively speaking – can already know so much?” 

His compliment caught me off guard, and I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks. “I suppose… I’ve always been a curious soul,” I said, trying to play off my embarrassment. “I find the world fascinating. There is much to learn, so many mysteries to uncover. And I’ve had a lot of good teachers.” 

“Like your brother, I assume?” he asked, tilting his head. 

“Yes,” I admitted, smiling fondly. “Gil-Galad was always the one to encourage me to think for myself, to challenge what I believed and seek my own answers.” 

Celebrimbor nodded thoughtfully. “He’s a wise king. I see now where you get your strength.” 

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “Strength? I think you might be giving me too much credit.” 

“No, truly,” he said, leaning in slightly, his tone sincere. “I can see it in you – the way you carry yourself, the way you approach things with patience and a quiet resolve. It’s rare to find that in someone who hasn’t let the weight of the world bear them down.” 

I looked away, not sure how to respond. His words struck a chord within me, stirring something deep that I had not realised I’d been holding back. I took another sip of my wine, trying to steady myself. If I kept up like this, I might be drunk before morning arrives.

“I’m not sure if I’m as strong as you say,” I murmured. “But thank you. It means a lot coming from you.” 

Celebrimbor laughed again, though this time it was softer, almost fond. “I think you underestimate yourself, my lady.” 

I smiled, though I didn’t quite know how to respond. The conversation had taken a more serious turn than I’d expected, and I felt both grateful and overwhelmed by his kind words. It wasn’t often that people took time to compliment me as they would always compliment my brother to me instead. 

In an effort to lighten the mood, Celebrimbor leaned back and sighed dramatically. “Enough philosophy for one evening, though. Let’s talk about something less heavy, shall we?” 

I raised an eyebrow. “What do you suggest, my lord?”

“How about this,” he said with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Did you know that when I was younger, I once accidently set the entire forge on fire?” 

I nearly choked on my wine. “What?”

He grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “Oh yes, I thought I could speed up the melting process by adding a little extra heat. I ended up creating a blaze that nearly took the whole workshop down. Needless to say, that wasn’t the best day on the job. My master was furious.” 

I could not help but burst into laughter at the image of a younger Celebrimbor, wide-eyed and covered in soot, trying to salvage the disaster he had created. 

“I cannot believe it,” I said, still laughing. “You, the master craftsman, nearly burning down your own forge? That is priceless.” 

“Oh, I’ve made plenty of mistakes,” he said, chuckling along with me. “But that one’s always stood out.” 

We continued talking like that for a while, sharing stories from our pasts, laughing at the ridiculousness of youth and the things we had learned along the way. I found myself opening up to him in ways I hadn’t expected, telling stories of my childhood, of the mischief of my brother and I would get into. He listened intently, his eyes never leaving mine, and every now and then, he’d made a joke or witty remark that had me laughing all over again. 

At one point, I realised how late it had gotten. The stars were bright in the sky, and the torches in the city below were mere flickers of light. But I didn’t want the night to end. I didn’t want to leave this moment – sitting here with him, talking, laughing, feeling closer to him than I ever had before. 

Celebrimbor looked out at the sky, his expression thoughtful. “You know,” he began after a long pause, “I’ve found that the quiet moments like these are far more important than most of the responsibilities we bear.” He turned to me, his eyes soft. “Moments like this – where we can simply be.” 

I felt my breath caught at his words, the sincerity in his voice tugging at something deep within me. I couldn’t look away from him, not when he spoke like that – so open, so unguarded. 

“You’re right,” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. “These moments are rare.” 

He smiled, his gaze never leaving mine. “That’s why I came back. I wasn’t quite ready to let the night end just yet.” 

I felt my heart skip a beat, and before I could think twice, I found myself speaking the words that had been lingering on my tongue all evening. “Neither was I.” 

For a long moment, we simply sat there, the space between us filled with a quiet understanding, 

Celebrimbor leaned back a little further, looking up at the stars again. “Tell me more about yourself, my lady. We’ve talked about so many things, but I still feel like there’s so much I don’t know.” 

I hesitated, feeling suddenly shy under his gaze. “What do you want to know?” 

He shrugged, a playful grin crossing his lips. “Anything. Everything. Your favourite memories, the things that make you laugh. I want to know more about the elleth behind the title.”

I smiled, feeling the warmth of his curiosity settled around me. “Well,” I began, glancing up at the stars as I gathered my thoughts. “I suppose one of my fondest memories is when my brother and I used to sneak away from our lessons to explore the forest surrounding the Havens of the Falas. Trying to evade Master Círdan. We would pretend to be great warriors, like our father, on some grand quest, and we would spend hours wandering, completely lost in our imaginations.” 

Celebrimbor chuckled softly. “I can picture that. You, a fierce warrior, leading your brother into battle.” 

I laughed. “Oh, it was mostly him leading me. but I liked to think I was the brave one.” 

“You still are,” he said, his voice gentle. 

We continued talking, sharing stories of our pasts, both light and serious. Celebrimbor, as it turned out, had a knack for humour, and he made me laugh more than once with his witty remarks and stories of mischief in his youth. 

At one point, he glanced at me, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “You have a wonderful laugh, you know.” 

I blushed, caught off guard by the compliment. “Thank you,” I said quietly, not quite sure how to respond. 

Celebrimbor smiled, a soft knowing smile that made me feel as though he could see right through my defences. “And you have a depth of wisdom that most could only hope to have,” he added, his tone more serious now. “It’s rare to find someone who thinks as deeply as you do.” 

I looked away, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and gratitude. “I don’t know about that.” 

He tilted his head, studying me for a moment. “I do,” he said simply. 

The night wore on, and as we continued to talk, I realised that the bond between us had deepened in ways I hadn’t expected. 

______________________________________________________________

The sky above Eregion was a deep blue, fading into twilight as the last remnants of the sun dipped below the distant peaks. The stars began to appear, shimmering faintly in the velvet sky, as I stood outside the great hall, waiting for Lord Celebrimbor.

It was my last night here before returning to Lindon, and though I had known this day would come, I found myself reluctant – almost desperate – to leave. My heart had been growing heavier with each passing hour, weighed down by a sense of unfinished business. There were words unspoken, feelings unconfessed, and I feared I would never have the courage to speak them. 

Suddenly, I heard footsteps approaching, and I turned to see Lord Celebrimbor walking toward me. He smiled warmly, and my heart skipped a beat as it always did when I saw him. 

“Good evening,” he greeted me with a slight bow, his eyes twinkling in the starlight. 

I smiled back, though it was bittersweet. “Lord Celebrimbor.” 

He chuckled softly and shook his head. “I think we know each other well enough by now, don’t you?” His voice was light, but there was something sincere in his gaze as he added, “If the Lady permits, I would ask that we dispense with titles for tonight?” 

I blinked, surprised but delighted by his suggestion. “I…I think I can manage that,” I said softly, my smile growing wider. 

“Good,” he replied, offering me his arm. “Shall we walk?”

I hesitated only for a moment before slipping my arm through his, my heart racing. His touch was warm and steady, and the simple gesture filled me with a happiness I could barely contain. This – walking beside him, sharing a quiet evening – was more than I had dared to hope for. and yet, here we were, alone under the stars. 

We strolled through the gardens of Eregion, the air fragrant with the scent of night-blooming flowers. The soft murmur of a nearby stream and the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze provided a peaceful backdrop to our conversation. We spoke of many things – his latest work with the Mírdain, the beauty of the city he had built, the stars above us. it was a light, easy conversation, but each word felt precious to me, as If I were storing these moments away to remember when I returned to Lindon.  

“Do you miss Lindon?” Celebrimbor asked, glancing at me.

I shook my head slowly. “Not as much as I thought I would,” I admitted. “Eregion has a… certain charm to it.” 

He smiled at that. “I am glad to hear it. You have been a welcome guest here, Arínel. Your presence has brightened these halls.” 

But the weight of my impending departure hung over me, unspoken but present. 

“I’m going to miss this,” I said quietly, glancing down at the ring he had given me. “Miss Eregion. Miss… you.” 

Celebrimbor looked at me, his expression softening. “Eregion will always welcome you, Arínel. And so will I.”

My heart swelled at his words, and I fought the urge to say what I truly felt – that my time here had been more than just pleasant, that it had changed me, that he had changed me. 

But as I opened my mouth to speak, to finally confess what had been weighing on me for so. Long, a guard appeared from the shadows, bowing respectfully to both of us before addressing Celebrimbor. 

“My lord,” he said, casting a brief glance in my direction before continuing, “there is a matter that requires your attention.” 

Celebrimbor sighed softly, his expression shifting from the warmth of our conversation to something more serious. “Very well,” he said, turning to me with an apologetic smile. “I am afraid duty calls and reprieves me of your delightful company.” 

I nodded, forcing a smile of my own though my heart sank. The moment was lost. 

“Of course,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I understand.” 

“Thank you, Arínel,” he said warmly, and with that, he gave me a small bow before following the guard, disappearing into the night. 

I watched him go, my chest tight with unspoken words, with feelings that had no outlet. The realisation that I had missed my chance left me standing alone in the quiet garden, the weight of my unspoken love pressing down on me like a heavy cloak. On the morrow, I would leave Eregion. I would return to Lindon, and Celebrimbor would remain here, as oblivious as ever to the affection I held for him. 

______________________________________________________________

The sun had just begun to rise when I stood in the courtyard, my horse already saddled and ready for the journey ahead. My departure had come too quickly, and though I had spent the night restless and awake, the morning had arrived far sooner than I wished. 

Celebrimbor approached with his usual calm grace, though there was a hint of something softer in his expression. Perhaps it was the farewell itself, or perhaps it was simply that he had enjoyed our time together as much as I had. I couldn’t be sure, and the uncertainty gnawed at me. 

“Arínel,” he said as he reached me, his voice warm. “I hope your journey to Lindon is safe. You’ll always be welcome at my city. Give your brother, our High-King, my regards.” 

I smiled weakly, trying to push down the ache in my chest. “I will.” 

There was a pause, a moment where the air seemed to thicken with all the things left unsaid. I wanted to tell him everything – that my heart had been his for longer than I cared to admit, that leaving Eregion felt like leaving a piece of myself behind. But the words would not come. 

Celebrimbor, ever the kind and thoughtful lord, placed a hand on my arm. His touch was gentle but steady, and it took every ounce of my willpower not to lean into him, not to let myself hope for something more. 

“You have been a wonderful guest, Arínel,” he said softly, his eyes sincere. “I will miss your presence here and our conversations.” 

My heart clenched, yet again, at his words, and for a moment I allowed myself to imagine that he meant something more by them – that he, too, had felt the connection between us. But I knew better. He was simply being kind. 

“I’ll miss them too and Eregion,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. 

Another pause, another moment where I felt the weight of my unspoken feelings pressing down on me. But once again, before I could gather the courage to speak, Celebrimbor stepped back, offering me a small, almost wistful smile. 

“Namárië, Arínel.” He said softly 

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded, mounting my horse and giving him one last, lingering look. 

“Namárië, Celebrimbor,” I whispered, though the words felt hollow compared to what I truly wanted to say. 

And with that, I turned my horse toward the road that would take me back to Lindon, leaving behind the city and the lord – that had captured my heart. 

______________________________________________________________

Months later, when I returned to Lindon, I found myself constantly thinking of Lord Celebrimbor. My mind wandered back to the nights we spent discussing lore and language, the way his eyes would light up when he spoke of his creations. It was during those long days of travel that I began to realise the truth – I was in love with him. 

The revelation hit me like a wave, both exhilarating and terrifying. How could I have let myself fall for him? He was so dedicated to his work, so focused on his craft. He could never love me, not in the way I loved him. 

I told myself It was foolish. He was a great lord, an unrivalled craftsman. And I… I was just his guest, a fleeting presence in his world. But the more I tried to push the thoughts aside, the more they consumed me. 

When I arrived back in Lindon, I threw myself into my duties, trying to forget. 

Returning to Lindon felt like stepping into a dream – familiar, safe, but somehow distant. After the vibrancy of Eregion, with its endless forges, scholars, and discoveries, Lindon seemed quieter, almost subdued. It was good to be home, but my thoughts lingered on the time I had spent there, especially on the one person I couldn’t seem to stop thinking about. 

Days after my return, a young half-even arrived at court – Elrond, who had only recently begun his training as a herald. He had been sent to serve as Gil-Galad’s court, and his sharp mind and kind demeanour quickly won the favour of those around him, myself included.

I met him on a bright afternoon while taking a walk in the gardens, my mind wandering back to memories of Eregion, He had been sitting on a stone bench, deep in study, and our conversation flowed. 

“So, you’re the one who’s to be trained by my brother,” I remarked playfully when we were introduced. “I hope you’re prepared for endless debates about policy and diplomacy.”

“My lady,” he greeted, before continuing. “I’ve been warned,” he said with a grin, “but I’m hoping there’s more to life here than politics.” 

I smiled at that. “I suppose I could show you the finer sides of Lindon. It’s not all councils and decrees, you know.” 

From that day on, we spent much of our free time together – walking through the gardens, talking about histories, or sharing stories from our pasts. Elrond was kind, and his passion for learning was contagious. He reminded me a little of myself when I was younger. 

One afternoon, as we sat beneath the shade of an old oak, Elrond looked at me thoughtfully. “You seem distracted, mellon-nin. Is something troubling you?”

I shook my head, trying to smile through the ache in my chest. “No, nothing of consequence,” I said, though my thoughts kept circling back to Celebrimbor. 

Elrond didn’t press any further, for which I was grateful, and we continued to pass the time in comfortable conversation. But the weight of the unspoken feelings hung over me, and no matter how I tried to push them away, they always returned with a quiet persistence, 

Then, came the council.

____________________________________________________________

Lindon bustled with activity as prominent elves arrived from across the land – Old master Círdan from the Havens, Galadriel from her endless travels and searches for Sauron, and many others. My brother called the gathering, and with it came a sense of importance, of urgency. I wasn’t high enough in rank or age to attend the council itself, but I knew it was significant. My place, for now, was to wait. 

Fortunately, I had a constant companion in Elrond, who also wasn’t permitted to attend the council. 

The feast that followed was grand, the hall filled with music of harps and the hum of voices. As Elrond and I entered together I felt a surge of both excitement and trepidation. I knew he would be here – Celebrimbor. The thought of seeing him again after all this time sent a thrill through me, though I fought to maintain my composure. 

As I stepped into the grand hall of Lindon, the soft murmur of conversation and laughter enveloped me like a warm embrace. The air was filed with the fragrant scent of fresh flowers and polished wood, and the light of the candles cast a golden glow over the scene. My gown, carefully chosen for this evening, swished softly around me, trailing behind as I made my entrance. 

I had barely taken two steps inside when a familiar, strong voice called out, “Nésa.” 

I turned and saw my brother coming towards me. Gil-Galad, standing tall and regal, with the same dark hair as me framing his face, and his blue eyes softened with warmth. I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. 

“Toron,” I greeted, moving toward him. He stepped forward, embracing me softly, and closed my eyes for a moment, grateful for the simple comfort of family. 

“You look radiant tonight, sister.” He said as he pulled back, his gaze sweeping over me with approval. “

“hannon lle,” I replied with a smile. He smiled back, before offering me his arm. I linked my arm with his and allowed him to introduce me to several lords and important elves I had only heard about not met before. They bowed their heads in greeting, offering polite words of welcome, and I responded in kind, though my mind wandered. I was nervous, and a certain ellon was to blame. 

My brother’s hand remained on my arm as we moved through the hall, and though he introduced me to more lords and ladies, I could see him mind was occupied elsewhere. He gave me a knowing glance that made my heart race. What had he noticed? 

Before I could ask him anything, the crowd parted and there she was. 

“Arínel,” came Galadriel’s voice, warm and full of affection. She swept towards me with that unmistakeable grace she carried, her golden hair flowing behind her, a vision of strength and beauty.

“Galadriel,” I breathed, stepping forward to meet her. I was swept into an immediate embrace by Galadriel. Her presence, as always, was a force of nature.

 “It is good to see you again. You bring light to this hall.”  She whispered, her voice softer now, holding me at arm’s length, so she could look me over. 

“And you bring strength,” I replied, smiling. “It’s been too long, Galadriel. My heart sings to see thee” I replied truthfully. 

“And mine sings to see you, as well.” She replied as she brushed her hand against my cheek,  “Eregion has treated you well.” 

I smiled, though I couldn’t help the rush of emotions that swirled inside me. “It has, but there is no place like Lindon It is good to be home.” 

She tilted her head, as though she could sense the weight in my words. “I trust you have many tales to tell of your time there.” 

“Some,” I replied lightly, though I knew she sensed there was more I was not sharing. 

Her gaze lingered on me for a moment longer before she smiled and took my arm, walking with me further into the hall. “Come, there are others who will be eager to see you.” 

“And you must tell me all about your travels and search for Sauron.” I replied as we walked together. 

As we moved through the gathered elves, I could hear snippets of conversation, murmurs of excitement about the council convening, the return of the warriors from the borders, and a feeling of something was stirring – something yet unnamed. The night was filled with anticipation, and I could sense the weight of it in the air, even as I tried to push it aside. 

Galadriel told me about her travels and her search for Sauron, until she led me over to where Master Círdan stood. His eyes twinkled as he saw me approach, and he opened his arms wide in welcome. “Ah, penneth! It is good to see you again.” 

“And you, Círdan,” I said bowing my head slightly as he embraced me. 

He chuckled, the sound deep and comforting. “How long has it been since we last spoke? I can still remember you running around creating trouble and evading your tutors.” 

I laughed at the memory. “Too long, my lord. I was but a child, though I think I caused more mischief than I care to admit.” 

Círdan’s eyes twinkled as he smiled fondly. “You’ve grown into quite the lady, my dear. You carry your brother’s strength with you, Arínel. You do your family proud. I am proud.” 

His words brought warmth to my heart, and I felt my shoulders relax in his presence. We spoke for some time, reminiscing about days long past, and I felt at ease once more in the company of those I loved. But even as the conversation flowed, a small part of me remained restless, as though something – or someone – was missing. 

And then, as if on cue, I felt it. A subtle shift in the air, a presence I had not felt since my departure from Eregion. I looked up, and my breath caught in my throat. 

There, standing at the far side of the hall, was Lord Celebrimbor. His presence commanding attention without effort. He looked the same as the last time she saw him. His hair, a soft chestnut brown shot through with silver strands, caught the light of the chandeliers, reflecting the warm glow that filled the room. It was neatly swept back from his face, his pale blue eyes – kind eyes that gleamed with wisdom and a gentle kindness. 

His robes were a deep green, richly embroidered with intricate patterns of silver and gold, flowing elegantly with every step he took. The fabric shimmered as he moved, catching the light in a way that made it appear almost ethereal, like the fine handiwork of an Elven craftsman. His posture was straight, proud, and yet there was something humble in the way he carried himself – an innate dignity that never bordered on arrogance. 

I found myself transfixed as he approached, his movements precise yet unhurried, as though he had all the time in the world. His build was slender, but strong, and though not towering in stature, there was an undeniable sense of power in the way he moved – controlled, deliberate, every gesture calm and measured. 

He came to a halt before our small group, offering a polite nod first to Círdan and then to Galadriel, the faintest smile touching his lips. 

“Lord Círdan,” he greeted in his soft, smooth tone, which carried the richness of experience. “It has been too long.” 

Círdan smiled, returning the nod. “It has indeed. Eregion thrives under your careful hand, I hear.” 

Celebrimbor inclined his head slightly, his eyes twinkling in the light. “It is thanks to the many hands that help me, not mine alone.” 

Turning to Galadriel, he offered the same nod of respect, though there was a warmth in his eyes as they met hers. “My dear lady Galadriel, it is always a pleasure.” 

“Cousin,” she responded, her voice light with affection, though her gaze flickered to me for a moment before returning to him. “It is good to see you again.” 

And then his gaze finally fell upon me, and my breath caught in my throat. His pale blue eyes softened just slightly, a brief glimmer of recognition in their depths, though his expression remained as composed as ever. 

“Lady Aríel,” he said, his voice gentler now, though still formal. “It is good to see you again.” 

For a moment, I was unsure how to respond, my mind whirling with memories of our time in Eregion. I managed to incline my head, offering a smile that felt a little too eager. “Lord Celebrimbor, the pleasure is mine.” 

There was a brief pause, the air between us thick with unspoken words, before Celebrimbor turned his attention back to the others, engaging in conversation with the same measured politeness he always carried. My heart, however, refused to settle, still fluttering at the sight of him. 

As the feast was announced and we made our way to the long table, I found myself seated beside my brother, and Galadriel, and as fate would have it, Celebrimbor sat directly across from me. My brother sat at the head of the grand table, his regal posture commanding the attention of all around him. I sat by his side, Galadriel to my right, and across from me, directly within my line of sight, sat Lord Celebrimbor. His presence lingered in the corner of my vision, a steady reminder of the feelings I tried too hard to bury. Yet every stolen glance in his direction only served to rekindle those quiet, longing thoughts. 

The evening unfolded in a blur of greetings and toasts. Galadriel, ever graceful, spoke to me of her journeys across Middle-earth in search for Morgoth’s servant – Sauron. She talked of the distant lands she had seen, and the ancient forests where hear heart felt most at ease. I listened, though my attention often wavered, drawn inexorably toward the elf lord who sat across from me. His presence was undeniable – quiet but magnetic. Every glance in his direction only deepened my curiosity, and though he spoke little, his eyes seemed to follow the flow of every conversation. 

As the servers laid out platters of fresh fruits, cheeses, and delicate elven breads, Galadriel leaned closer, her voice low and full of warmth. “It is good to have you back with us, Arínel. You’ve been missed.” 

I smiled, my heart lightened at her words. “It is good to be back, my lady. Though, I confess, there are parts of Eregion that have claimed my heart.” 

Galadriel’s gaze shifted briefly to Celebrimbor before returning to me, her smile soft and knowing. “Eregion does tend to inspire loyalty. And perhaps more.” 

Before I could respond, Celebrimbor’s steady voice reached across the table. “It seems Eregion has left a lasting impression on you, Lady Arínel.” 

I looked up, meeting his hazel eyes – calm yet intense, like the sky on a winter morning. His expression was as it always was: reserved, thoughtful, and yet there was something beneath the surface, something that stirred in me every time I looked at him 

“It has,” I replied, my voice steady despite the fluttering in my chest. “The work you’ve done there, the city you’ve built… it’s magnificent. I found it difficult to leave.” 

His lips quirked into a faint smile. “It is not often that one hears such high praise. You honour me, my lady.” 

The words were simple, but there was a sincerity in his tone that made my heart skip a beat. we exchanged no further words in that moment, but the connection between us lingered, unspoken yet undeniable. 

As the evening wore on, the conversations shifted. My brother, spoke of the affairs of Lindon, of the peace and prosperity that had reigned for centuries, while Círdan and Galadriel occasionally chimed in with their own insights. But no where the conversation drifted, I found myself constantly aware of Celebrimbor’s presence. His pale auburn-golden hair, combed back neatly, caught the light of the candles, and his angular features seemed softened by the warmth of the evening. 

At one point, as I engaged with Galadriel about a recent expedition she had taken, Lord Celebrimbor leaned forward slightly, drawing my attention. “I remember you spent time in our libraries recently, and your fondness for our great lore of old, Lady Arínel.” He began with a thoughtful look crossing his face. “Perhaps we could compare our findings sometime. I’ve been delving into the ancient texts myself as of late, though more for the advancement of my craft than scholarly pursuit.” 

The offer was unexpected, but not unwelcome. My heart quickened at the thought of spending more time with him. “I would be honoured, my lord,” I replied, a soft smile on my lips. 

From beside me, I could feel my brother’s gaze flickering between us, his expression unreadable. His silence, however, spoke volumes, as did the subtle glance he exchanged with Galadriel.

“Do not let me distract you too much from your studies, my lady,” Celebrimbor added, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I have been known to occupy too much of one’s time.” 

I smiled, feeling the warmth of his attention, though my heart whispered doubts. Was he merely being courteous, or was there something more beneath his reserved exterior? I couldn’t tell, and the uncertainty gnawed at me. 

As the feast continued, more wine was poured, and the atmosphere lightened with laughter and the sharing of stories. Galadriel leaned closer, whispering to me of her past travels, her voice filled with both fondness and melancholy of memories of our youth. Meanwhile, my brother engaged in a lively discussion with Círdan about the sea routes of the west, their deep voices carrying across the table. 

It was only when the main course was served that I noticed how oftens Celebrimbor’s gaze drifted towards me. He was subtle, of course, as he always was. His hazel eyes – thoughtful, serene – would meet mine for just a breath longer than expected, before he returned his attention to the others.  Each time, my pulse quickened, but I reminded myself that I was likely reading too much into it. He had always been polite and kind, but never more than that. 

Yet, as the meal progressed, I couldn’t help but wonder. Could there actually be more to it? 

At one paint, as we were finishing our courses, Lord Celebrimbor addressed me again. “Do you still practice the art of the sword, Lady Arínel?” he asked, his tone casual yet curious. “I recall you were once known for your skill.” 

I met his gaze, surprised he would remember. “I do, though not as often as I should. Time in Lindon has made me… softer, perhaps.” 

He raised an eyebrow, the faintest hint of a smile on his lips. “I doubt that.” 

The words sent a thrill through me, though I tried not to show it. Instead, I smiled, mu mind racing with possibilities. Had he truly noticed me, all this time or was I merely seeing what I wished to see? 

Beside me, my brother leaned closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’ve grown fond of him, haven’t you?” 

I stiffened slightly but kept my expression neutral. “What do you mean?”

He chuckled softly, the sound warm yet teasing. “You’ve barely taken your eyes off him all evening, and I can see why. But be careful, Nésa.” 

I frowned, my heart sinking at his words. “Careful of what?” 

His eyes, dark and serious now, met mine. “Of hoping too much. He is not easily swayed.” 

My gaze flickered back to Celebrimbor, who was now engaged in conversation with Círdan, his expression as composed as ever. My heart twisted at my brother’s warning, but I pushed the feeling down. I would let doubt cloud my heart tonight. 

For now, I would simply be content to sit across from him, our words lingering in the air between us, and hope that, in time, there would be more. 

______________________________________________________________

The night air in Lindon was cool and crisp, a gentle breeze weaving through the golden trees, causing their leaves to shimmer in the moonlight. After the feast had concluded, the halls warmth and laughter had given way to the quiet solitude of the gardens. I had excused myself after my conversation with my brother, needing time to reflect and breathe in the stillness. 

I wandered through the gardens, my feet instinctively finding the path u sued to walk in my younger days. The familiar scent of the sea lingered in the air, mingling with the sweet fragrance of flowers that only bloomed at night. The moon, pale and luminous, cast long shadows along the winding pathways, its light illuminating the delicate blossoms that lined the garden. 

I found a secluded corner near a low fountain, its soft trickling water providing a comforting backdrop to my thoughts. The stars twinkled brightly above, and I allowed myself to lose track of time, my thoughts wandering to the evening’s events, and more specifically, to the conversation that I had shared with Lord Celebrimbor. His quiet confidence, his understated charm – they lingered in my mind like the sweet aftertaste of the wine from the feast. 

I was so lost in my thoughts that I almost didn’t notice the sound of footsteps approaching. My hand instinctively reached for the hilt of the blade I always kept at my side, but I relaxed when I saw the familiar silhouette of the one who had occupied mu mind all night. 

Celebrimbor 

“Lady Arínel,” he greeted, his voice soft yet clear as he came into view. The moonlight caught his features – his hazel eyes reflecting the light as they met mine. He wore the same calm, reserved expression as always, but there was something warmer in his gaze tonight. Something more. 

“My lord,” I replied, offering a small smile. “I did not expect to see anyone else in the gardens at this hour.”

He returned the smile, though his was more reserved. “Nor did I. it seems we both seek solitude this night.” 

“And please, if memory serves me correct, I think we established there is no need for titles when we’re alone.” He teased with a smirk.

“Of course, my…Celebrimbor.” I replied, catching myself, which made him chuckle. 

He stepped closer, his eyes studying the garden around us. “Lindon’s gardens are unlike any other in Middle-earth,” he mused, his voice low. “The stillness here… is rare.” 

I nodded, understanding the sentiment. “There is a peace here that I have not found elsewhere. Perhaps it’s the nearness of the sea, or the long-standing tranquillity of the land. Or the great trees.” 

Celebrimbor’s gaze returned to me, and for a moment, neither of us spoke. The silence between us was not awkward, but rather comfortable, like the quiet understanding of two souls who had long shared unspoken thoughts. 

“I noticed you left the feast early,” he said after a pause, his tone gentle, almost concerned. 

“I needed time to think,” I admitted, glancing up at the stars. “And to breathe. There are times when the bustle of the court is overwhelming.” 

He nodded in agreement. “It can be…heavy, even in celebration. The weight of expectation often lingers, even in moments of joy.” 

I looked at him then, studying his features more closely than I had been able to during the feast. The moonlight softened the sharp lines of his face, highlighting the quiet wisdom in his expression. I wondered how many such moments he had sought for himself, away from the duties of leadership and the pressures of crafting, and if he too felt the weight of it all as I did. 

“You carry it well,” I said, my words slipping out before I could stop them. 

He blinked, surprised by my statement. “What do you mean?”

“The expectations,” I clarified, my voice quiet. “You bear them with grace. Not many can do that.” 

He seemed to contemplate my words for a moment before a faint smile touched his lips. “I thank you for that, though I suspect you see more than there is, my lady. Expectations are easier to carry when one is skilled at masking their weight.” 

There was a brief pause, and then, with a lightness I had not expected, he added, “You, too, carry the weight of expectation well, though you may not realise it.” 

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “I think you overestimate me, my lord. I’ve spent much of my time in the shadows of those greater than i.” 

His eyes softened at my response, and he took a step closer, his voice lowering slightly. “Greatness is not always about standing in the light, Arínel. It is how we endure, how we quietly shape the world around us.” 

His words struck something deep within me, and I found myself looking at him in a new light. He had always been a master of subtlety, of creating beauty in silence, and in that moment, I felt as though I was seeing him not just as the great Celebrimbor, the greatest of Elven-smiths, but as a man with burdens and doubts of his own. 

“Is that what you do?” I asked softly. “Shape the world in silence?” 

A slight smile tugged at his lips, and for the briefest of moments, I thought I saw something vulnerable in his eyes. “I try. But the world is not always so easily shaped.” 

We stood in silence for a while after that, the soft murmurs of the fountain filling the space between us. the night felt timeless, and for once, I wasn’t weighed down by my usual doubts and uncertainties. Being in his presence felt natural, as if we had always known each other, and yet I longed to know more. 

“Tell me,” I began, breaking the quiet, “do you ever tire of it all?” 

He looked at me curiously. “Of what?”

“Of the responsibilities,” I clarified. “The duties, the expectations…the constant strive for perfection.” 

Celebrimbor hesitated, his expression thoughtful. “There are days when the burden is heavier than others,” he admitted quietly. “But I do not tire of it. The work – whether it is leading my people or crafting something with my hands – gives me purpose. It reminds me of why I continue.” 

He paused, then added softly, “And perhaps, it is in those rare moments of quiet, like this one, where I find the strength to carry on.” 

His words touched me deeply, and for a moment, I found myself at a loss for how to respond. I had never seen him speak so openly, so honestly, besides that night on the balcony. It was as though, here in the stillness of the gardens, away from the eyes of the court and the weight of expectation, he allowed himself to be simply himself. 

“I am glad,” I finally said, “that you find such moments of peace.” 

He smiled, a warmth in his gaze that made my heart flutter. “As am I, Arínel. And I find, this night, that your company brings a certain… comfort.”

My breath caught at his words, but before I could respond, he stepped back, his expression softening. “I shall leave you to your thoughts, Arínel,” he said, his voice gentle. “But I hope we might continue our conversation in the future.” 

I nodded, “I would like that very much.” 

He bowed his head slightly, a graceful farewell, and then, with one last lingering look, he turned and disappeared into the shadows of the garden, leaving me alone with the quiet of the night and the warmth of his presence still lingering in the air. 

______________________________________________________________

The morning sun cast a warm glow over Lindon’s terraces, bathing the city in a golden light. Arínel sat with Galadriel at a small stone table, the remnant soft their morning meal before them. She picked at her bread absentmindedly, listening to Galadriel’s calm voice as they spoke of old memories and the ever-present challenge of their age. 

“Do you remember how we used to spar in the fields of Dorthonion?” Galadriel asked, a playful smile tugging at her lips. 

I nodded, returning her smile with a fond one of my own. “I remember you always winning,” I teased lightly, though there was truth in my words. Galadriel’s skill with a blade had been unmatched even then. 

Galadriel’s smile widened, and a glint of mischief flickered in her eyes. “Only because you held back. Perhaps today, you’ll give me a real challenge?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge, my lady? Or rather should I say commander?” I teased back. 

“Indeed,” Galadriel replied, rising from the table with a graceful motion, her long golden hair flowing behind her. “Let us see if time has dulled your sword arm.” 

I chuckled softly, pushing myself up to follow. “Very well, commander. Let us train like old times.” 

We made our way to the training grounds, an open space nestled in a quiet corner of Lindon, surrounded by the tall silver and golden trees. I noticed a few soldiers practiced nearby but kept their distance, which made me chuckle. No doubt they knew of the prowess of the great commander of the northern armies. I would have to do my best to ensure I wasn’t humiliated in front of everyone. 

We both went over to the weapons rack and picked up a sword, the familiar weight of it resting in my hands bringing back a flood of memories. 

“I will not go easy on you,” Galadriel warned with a grin, her stance ready and light as she faced me. 

“I would expect nothing less,” I replied, falling into a stance of my own. 

We began slowly, testing each other’s movements, light taps of swords echoing through the air. As always, Galadriel was quick, precise, her blade darting in and out with the precision of a master. I parried easily, though my focus wavered for a moment when I caught sight of figures approaching from the terrace above. 

My brother and a certain Lord of Eregion. 

They stood side by side, watching the sparring session with great interest. I felt my heart quicken, my eyes flickering to Celebrimbor for just a moment too long. His expression was calm, but there was a subtle fleam of curiosity in his eyes as he observed our training.

Focus, Arínel! I yelled at myself internally. I forced myself to return to the present, meeting Galadriel’s next strike with a powerful block. The ring of our swords echoed through the training grounds, and the nearby soldiers paused to watch, caught by the rare sight of two of the finest elves in Middle-earth locked in a sparring match.  

Galadriel’s strikes became faster, more aggressive, as if sensing the distraction in my movements. The sound of steel against steel filled the air as I kept parrying, twisting my body to avoid ta well-aimed thrust. I could feel Celebrimbor’s eyes on me, and my determination flared. I would not be bested so easily, not while he watched. 

With a burst of energy, I pressed my attack, my strikes faster now, more precise, matching Galadriel’s tempo blow for blow. I feinted to the left, the spun quickly, my blade narrowly missing Galadriel’s shoulder as my old friend sidestepped with practiced ease. 

“You’re holding back again,” Galadriel, said a teasing edge in her voice, though her eyes flashed with pride. 

I gritted my teeth, refusing to let the distraction of our audience sway my focus any longer. I lunged forward with a quick succession of strikes, each one forcing Galadriel to move back. My sword sliced through the air, my movements fluid and graceful, and for a moment, I could feel my old self returning – the warrior of old who had fought alongside heroes of legend. 

With one final push, I closed the distance between us, my blade aimed for Galadriel’s side. Galadriel countered, but I was ready. I spun low, my sword sweeping toward Galadriel’s legs – until suddenly, with a swift twist of her wrist, Galadriel’s blade was at my throat. 

I froze, the cool edge of Galadriel’s sword pressing lightly my skin. For a heartbeat, I thought I had lost. But then I noticed the tip of my own blade resting lightly against Galadriel’s neck. 

We had struck at the same time. 

A soft laugh escaped Galadriel as he pulled her sword back, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “It seems we have both improved,” she said, lowering her weapon and stepping back with a graceful bow of her head. 

I let out a breath I hadn’t realised I had been holding and straightened, a faint smile tugging at my lips. “Or perhaps we are both growing old and slow.” 

Galadriel chuckled softly. “I would never admit such a thing.” 

Our duel had ended in a draw, but as I returned the sword to the training rack, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of victory, especially with the way Celebrimbor’s gaze lingered on me. When I glanced up at the terrace, his expression had softened, a small smile touching his lips as our eyes met. 

My brother clapped his hands from where he stood, a broad grin on his face. “Well done, both of you! A duel worth watching.” 

Celebrimbor said nothing, but his eyes held something unspoken, something warm that sent a flutter through my chest. 

I turned to Galadriel, who was watching me with a knowing look, a subtle smile on her lips. “Perhaps we should spar more often,” Galadriel suggested, though there was a light teasing tone in her voice that made me blush. 

“Perhaps,” I agreed, unable to hide the smile growing on my face. 

______________________________________________________________

As the afternoon sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across Lindon’s trees, Galadriel and I found ourselves walking side by side through the gardens, our footsteps quiet upon the soft grass. The scent of blooming flowers filled the air, yet there was a weight hanging between us, one that I had felt for some time now but had not dared to address. 

Galadriel, as ever, moved with a quiet grace, her eyes scanning the horizon as if searching for something just out of sight. There was a tension in her, an unrelenting energy beneath her calm exterior, and I knew what caused it. 

The hunt. The search. The darkness that still lingered. 

We walked in silence for a few moments longer before I spoke, my voice soft but deliberate. “You’ve been restless, Mellon-nin. I can see it in your eyes.” 

Galadriel’s gaze shifted to me, the ethereal light in her blue eyes dimming just slightly. She let out a soft breath, though she did not respond immediately. Instead, she slowed her pace, as if weighing her words before speaking. “I have been restless, yes. More than I care to admit.” 

I studied my old friend, noting the way Galadriel’s hands clenched and unclenched at her sides, a sign of her inner turmoil. 

“It is him, isn’t it? Sauron. You still believe he’s out there.” 

Galadriel stopped walking, turning to face me fully. For a moment, the air between us seemed heavier, filled with an unspoken tension. Then, finally, Galadriel nodded, her expression hardening. “I know he’s out there,” she said quietly, her voice edged with steel and resolve. “He may be hiding, but he has not vanished from this world. Not yet.” 

I frowned, feeling a chill creeping up my spine at the mention of Sauron’s name. “It’s been years, Galadriel. Decades. No one has seen him or heard any whisper of him since Morgoth fell. Even my brother—” 

“The High-King thinks he is gone,” Galadriel interrupted, her tone sharp. “They all do. They believe that because Morgoth is no more, Sauron has simply vanished, faded into the shadows.” She paused her eyes flashing with fierce determination that I had always admired, yet sometimes feared. “But I know him. I have felt his presence, even now. The shadows have not lifted, Arínel. They have only shifted.” 

I felt my chest tighten at her words. I had heard the stories, of course, of her unyielding search, of the warnings she had given to the High-King and others. I knew of her deep hatred of Sauron. 

“And if he’s out there,” I asked gently, “what do you intend to do? You’ve been searching for him for years, yet not sign has surfaced.” 

Galadriel’s jaw tightened, her gaze turning toward the distant sea, as if the waves beyond Lindon could offer her the answers she sought. “He is biding his time,” she said softly. “Waiting for us to grow complacent. That is his nature, to deceive, to lie in wait until we lower our guard.” 

I stepped closer, placing a hand on Galadriel’s arm. “You cannot carry this burden alone, Mellon-nin. You’ve given everything to this search. But perhaps it’s time to let go – just for a while. Rest, be with friends. Trust that my brother will not allow any shadow to take root here.” 

Galadriel turned her gaze back to me, her expression softening for just a moment. There was a deep weariness in her eyes, one that spoke of centuries of struggle and loss. “I appreciate your concern, mellon-nin. But you know as well as I do that I cannot rest. Not while he is out there.” She hesitated, as if considering how much to reveal, then added in a whisper, “He took too much from me…from all of us.” 

My heart ached at the weight of her words. I knew well the toll that loss had taken on Galadriel – her dear brother Finrod, slaughtered and marked by Sauron. The darkness that had consumed so much of Middle-earth, even after Morgoth’s defeat, still lingered in the deepest corners of her heart. 

But I also knew that the constant search, the endless pursuit of an enemy that may never reveal himself, was wearing Galadriel down. “I do understand,” I said quietly. “But there is more to life than this hunt. You need to remember who you are, what you still have.” I paused, my voice softening further. “You are not alone in this fight.” 

Galadriel’s lips curved into a faint, sad smile. “And yet, I am the only one who stills fight it.”

I shook my head. “You fight it because you believe in what is right. But you are not alone. I will help you, Galadriel. If Sauron is truly out there, we will find him. But do not let this search consume you. There is still light in this world, mellon. Still hope.” 

For a long moment, Galadriel said nothing, her gaze locked with mine, as if weighing the truth of my words. Finally, she let out a slow breath and nodded, though the fire in her eyes remained. “I will try to rest, for your sake.” She said with a fondness in her eyes. I squeezed her arm gently, offering a reassuring smile. “Hannon ll.” I whispered back as we clasped hands and continued our walk. 

______________________________________________________________

The evening air in Lindon was cool against my skin, but the chill did little to calm the storm of thoughts swirling in my head. My conversation with Galadriel had rested with me. What if she was right? What if Sauron was out there waiting in our moments of complacency? It terrified me. 

I sat by the open window of my chamber, staring blankly out in the fading light, the soft murmur of the sea drifting in from the distance. I should have felt peace here, but instead, there was an ache in my chest I couldn’t shake – Besides my growing troubeling thoughts of Sauron there was another gnawing uncertainty that had followed me for days. 

I couldn’t stop thinking about him – Celebrimbor. 

Every interaction over the last few days and my time in Eregion had left me reeling, questioning what I had seen in his gaze, what I had heard in the warmth of his voice. There was something, wasn’t there? Or was it just my own heart playing tricks on me, seeing affection where there was only friendship? 

A knock at the door startled me out of my thoughts. My heart skipped a beat, and I turned, suddenly nervous, as if I’d been caught thinking too loudly. “Come in,” I called out. Thankfully there was no nervousness to spot in my voice. 

The door creaked open, and there he was – Celebrimbor, standing in the doorway, bathed in the soft light from the corridor. He smiled, that familiar gentle smile that always seemed to reach his eyes. “Good evening, Arínel,” he said, his voice a low hum, soothing yet stirring the anxious flutter in my chest. “I was wondering… would you care for a walk?” 

A walk. Alone. With him. 

I nodded before I even realised what I was doing. “Yes, I’d like that.” He smiled at me, his eyes twinkling. 

I grabbed a light shawl, though the evening air hardly called for it, and followed him out into the quiet gardens. We walked side by side, the soft crunch of gravel underfoot the only sound between us at first. But the silence, wasn’t uncomfortable; it was filled with the kind of ease that only comes with familiarity. 

After a while, he spoke. “Did you enjoy the feast?”

I glanced at him, catching the playful glint in his eyes. “I did. Though, I think my brother enjoyed it more. He loves boasting about our family’s skill with the blade. And don’t even get me started on his fondness of his spear.” I smiled, trying to keep the conversation light.

Celebrimbor chuckled, the sound warm and deep. “I noticed. But he was not the only one impressed.” He gave me a sideways look. “You more than held you own against Galadriel. That’s not small feat.” 

I felt my cheeks heat slightly. “I only survived as I long as I did because she was going easy on me.” 

“Nonsense,” he replied, his smile widening. “Your blade was at her throat, was it not? I’d call that a draw, at the very least.” 

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “Perhaps you’re just being kind.” 

“I never lie about swordplay;” he said, his voice teasing, but there was a sincerity in his eyes that made my heart skip again. 

We continued talking, our conversation flowing easily from there, filled with light-hearted banter and teasing remarks. He had such a way with words – so quick, so sharp, yet never cruel. Every quip brought a laughter from me, and I found myself forgetting the doubts and troubles that weighed me down earlier. For a time, it was just the two of us, enjoying the evening and each other’s company. 

But then, as we turned down a more secluded path, the conversation lulled, and the weight of the unspoken feelings settled between us. The silence grew heavier, charged with something deeper, something I could no longer ignore. 

I stole a glance at him, my heart pounding in my chest. This was it. I had to say something. I couldn’t keep holding it all in. the feelings that had been building for so long were threatening to spill over, and if I didn’t speak now, I might never have the courage to. 

“Celebrimbor,” I began, my voice quieter than I intended. 

He stopped walking and turned to me, his expression soft but attentive, sensing the shift. “What is it, my dear?” he asked gently, his gaze fixed in mine. 

I swallowed hard, trying to gather my thoughts, my courage. “I…I have to tell you something. Something I’ve been feeling for some time now.” 

His brows furrowed slightly, but he didn’t speak. He waited, patient, giving me space to continue. 

I too a breath, my heart racing. “I’ve grown fond of you, Celebrimbor. More than fond. I’ve tried to ignore it, tried to convince myself it was nothing, but it’s not nothing. These past days and my days in Eregion, spending time with you, I…”  I hesitated, the words catching in my throat. “I think I might care for you. Deeply. I think I might love you.” 

The silence that followed felt deafening. 

He blinked, his expression still, unreadable for a moment. And then, slowly, he looked down, his brow creased as if struggling with something. 

My heart sank. 

“Arínel,” he said softly, his voice full of something I couldn’t quite place – regret, perhaps? “I…I don’t know what to say.” 

That wasn’t what I had expected. Not what I had hoped. 

He took a deep breath and lifted his eyes to mine again, and in them, I saw the answer before he spoke. “You mean a great deal to me,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You are one of the most remarkable elleths I’ve ever known. But I…I cannot give you what you seek.”

 I stood frozen, my heart shattering with each word. 

“I care for you deeply,” he continued, his gaze never leaving mine, “but my heart…it is not free. It belongs to my work, to Eregion, to the responsibilities I carry. There is no room left for anything else.” 

I couldn’t speak. The pain of his words, though spoken with such kindness, was unbearable. 

“I wish things were different,” he added softly. “You deserve someone who can give you all that you are asking for. But I… I’m not that person.” 

I felt as though I were drowning, unable to breathe, unable to find my voice. I hadn’t expected this – not the pity in his eyes, not the gentle way he was rejecting me. it hurt more than I thought possible. 

He stepped closer, his hand reaching out as if to comfort me, but I pulled back, shaking my head. “No,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Please… don’t.” 

“Arínel,” he said again, softer now, his expression filled with sorrow. “I’m so sorry,” 

The pity in his voice twisted the knife in my chest, and I couldn’t stand it any longer. I had to get away. 

But before I could say anything, we were interrupted by the sound of footsteps. Another ellon approached from the far side of the garden, his formal tone breaking the fragile moment. “My lord,” he said, bowing slightly. “You are needed…” 

Celebrimbor’s jaw tightened, but when he turned back to, I had already started walking away. 

“Arínel, wait—” he called after me, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. Not while my heart was breaking. 

(Stay tuned for part II)

[elis-corner]

y'all I love the way Elrond is going this season. TROP S2 SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT.

Firstly, THE CLIFF JUMP. It's a perfect nod to Elwing, which I don't think is at all tacky. Tolkien loves his circular storytelling, and this adds another layer to it. The way Galadriel realises just before he jumps is great too.

Speaking of circular storytelling, Elrond wanting the rings destroyed fits on so many levels, not to mention being book accurate.

I love how you kind of see his half-elven vibes so far very subliminally. Favourite way is him turning up to Cirdan looking like he'd just run through the bush and fallen off a cliff (which he had lol), Cirdan just kind of shrugs it off like "He's half-elven, he gets to be a bit strange."

Speaking of that, the obligatory "Your father would be proud" hits different every time. (Side note, I love the respect Gil-galad has for Cirdan, considering he's kind of a father figure to him).

Short moment here about how good the Durin-Elrond friendship is. I see myself and one of my friends very much in the whole "I know he's lying cause my bestie would never speak that highly of me" moment. 10/10 perfection.

Next, the power he has over Galadriel is delicious. Being chosen to lead the company over Galadriel was the cherry on top. Elrond is my favourite Tolkien character, so seeing him be respected is so exciting to me (I will note here that Galadriel was seriously Feanorian last season and this is her getting what was coming for her, hopefully she learns from all this, she deserves to be as respectable as Elrond).

I will note that Gil-galad seems permanently grumpy at Elrond, and the "half-elven" comment last season didn't help, not to mention this season's "this is above your clearance" moment (my dude is literally part angel, I love you Ereinion but really??), but I don't blame him for it, being High King has a 100% mortality rate. But still, be a bit nicer to one of your few remaining relatives, geez.

Anyways, I love Elrond, and RoP is doing him justice :D

[ladyoflindon]

Overzealous Herald (Elrond Peredhel, Rings of Power)

Author's note: Written with my OC Eleniel but can be a reader insert too

Summary: Elrond is an overzealous herald, and some day, he burns out. His darling wife nurses him back to health.

As the daughter of High King Gil-galad, Eleniel knew the pressure was on for her to maintain a graceful and elegant front as the Princess of Lindon. She knew the pressure of the court, to live up to everyone's expectations, but never in her life had she seen someone so...committed to it as Elrond was.

She knew that he always felt inferior, due to his half-elven heritage. Many a night, she had spent with him in their bed, reassuring him that he was more than enough as she pressed soft kisses to his shoulders. But it seemed that she had failed to actually convince him.

She saw the emotion he hid behind his perpetually lingering smile and his sweet words. Deep down, Eleniel knew one thing.

Elrond wasn't okay.

----

"Elrond," Eleniel spoke as she entered his study, shutting the door gently behind her. He was bent over his desk, scribbling madly, a fire burning in his eyes as his quill scratched the parchment. On the ground, she saw several broken quills, no doubt swept away in anger.

"What?" Gone was the shy, sweet herald she'd fallen in love with. In his place was a tone of vindictiveness, pent up anger. Eleniel was a little taken aback by his tone of voice, but she needed to get around whatever it was Elrond was experiencing this time.

"Elrond," she spoke softly, fiddling with a lock of her long hair. "Are you alright?"

He didn't answer her. Eleniel could hear her heart shattering, but she ignored the pain and continued to linger in his study. She moved closer to his desk, her steps feather-light, and reached out to pick up a particular document to read it.

Almost like lightning, his hand shot out to catch hers. Elrond snatched the document out of her hands and slammed it on the desk so hard the quills rattled in their inkwells.

"Leave it," he growled.

Eleniel's blue eyes widened at his words. What had happened. "Elrond, I-"

Her sweet herald snapped. "If you have nothing to say, leave!" He got out of his chair, grey eyes blazing and a stray strand of brown hair falling in front of his face. Elrond was glaring back at her, his eyes ablaze with a fury she'd never seen.

However, he saw Eleniel's eyes, blue like the boundless sea. They were wide open, perhaps with shock and a little fear. Instantly, Elrond's eyes softened, and he took a step towards his wife. "Melda, I...I apologise," he murmured, his eyes downcast. "I don't know what came over me, I..."

Tears pricked the corner of his eyes, and before he knew it, they started cascading like pearls broken from a chain down his cheeks. Eleniel's heart clenched and she pulled him into her embrace.

"Talk to me, Elrond. What's happening?"

"I...I push myself too hard..." he sniffled, burying his face in her shoulder. "It's my fault...all of it."

"I hear them talk, you know," he continued, "that I'm not worthy of you, not even worthy of being here, because I'm a peredhel. I'm trying to prove them wrong."

Eleniel pressed a kiss to his forehead, and pulled away just enough to look into his eyes. The beautiful grey eyes she so loved. "Elrond," she sighed, "you don't need to prove yourself to anyone. If those...idiots cannot see that you're more than your heritage, the fault lies with them and their poor judgement."

"You think so?"

"I know so, Elrond," Eleniel agreed firmly. "Your kindness and sincerity far surpass any flattery the courtiers utter. You're genuine, you love helping others no matter who they are...need I go on?"

She pulled him to her again. "Okay, I'm officially relieving you of your duties for the rest of the week. You're to take a break, away from your work."

Elrond looked up at her, unintentionally flashing those puppy eyes. "What about the High King?"

Eleniel laughed. "Whatever objections the High King has, he can run them by me, because my lovely herald needs a break!"

She tackled him to the ground, pressing kisses to any inch of him she could reach, namely his face. Elrond laughed as he felt a knot in his chest unravel.

He needed this. To heal, to rest. As he looked down at his wife, still kissing him fervently, he knew something.

Elrond had all he needed right here.

[fandom-chameleon23]

to expand a bit on my post here: https://www.tumblr.com/fandom-chameleon23/766441823521669120/galadriel-loved-halbrand-and-hates-sauron-and

i’m starting with the premise that sauron fully commits to the parts he plays. in other words, he genuinely believes what he is saying as halbrand and annatar. that’s why he’s so good at deceiving, because he believes it himself. (Charlie V said this in an interview).

i’m also defining love not as unconditional regard and affection for another person, but more as a posture/action toward that person.

so- we know from the beginning of 1x01 that galadriel hates sauron. he killed her brother and she swore revenge. but she loved halbrand. she felt like he understood her, she related to him, ans they had a connection. we see this in her conversation with halbrand in 1x06 when she tells him “i felt it too”. after the reveal, she separates halbrand and sauron in her mind. gil-galad has to correct her when she refers to him as “halbrand” and he reminds her it’s sauron she’s talking about. it’s a way to cope because she can’t comprehend being in love with sauron. she rationalizes by telling herself halbrand was a lie and completely fictional, but we know that’s not true. halbrand did not tell the whole truth but he was not a fictional man pulled out of thin air by sauron. in 2x08 sauron says “not all of it [was a lie]” during his fight with galadriel.

season two for galadriel seems to be her coming to terms with the fact that she was in love with sauron, and figuring out how to move forward in light of the feelings that brings (guilt, anger, etc.) by the end of the season, i don’t see any evidence that she still holds that love for him. she hesitates when she sees halbrand’s face again because of the memories and emotions she has for him, but she ultimately defies sauron with the infamous “heal yourself” line. to me, that line is spoken out of anger, not love. and she’s totally justified in doing so.

celebrimbor. i said he loved annatar- there’s a lot of complex feelings wrapped up here. celebrimbor was intrigued and excited by halbrand, and i read it as attraction as well. then when sauron presents as annatar, celebrimbor initially responds more in worship and adoration. but i think it settles into a quiet, steady love during their work together. celebrimbor sees annatar as an intellectual partner, and there is an emotional connection there as well (one example is when celebrimbor checks on annatar after the doors of durin).

their dynamic is classic emotional abuse/manipulation. annatar is open about whatever emotions will earn a response from celebrimbor. he is successful at drawing celebrimbor into a deep emotional connection. but celebrimbor never gives up his agency, he is willing to stand up to annatar and hold his boundaries. he chooses to love annatar, even when annatar is not easy to love.

but as time progresses and annatar descends into sauron, celebrimbor has to pull back to protect himself. he cannot remain entangled with a being that is so destructive. throughout the end of 2x07 and beginning of 2x08, as sauron is fully revealed, celebrimbor listens, and sees, and understands. he sees sauron, not annatar, and he so clearly still *wants* to love sauron. he feels empathy, and his heart hurts for sauron, but i don’t see anger or hatred. and perhaps the most loving thing he could have done, in those circumstances, was to confront sauron with the truths that he did. but he could not maintain a relationship of love, not when sauron is so self-deluded that he is willing to kill and torture in the name of healing and peace.

sauron, at this point in time, is so fallen that he cannot accept love for the gift that it is. he seems to take love and twist it into something that is self-serving, an opportunity to advance his own goals. i don’t think he’s even doing it intentionally, at least not all of the time.

[neyafromfrance95]

You are right about elves being able to marry once and for a life being a legal issue than an emotional one.

Elves canonically have fallen in love more than once. Galadriel's grandpa Finwë is a famous example who remarried after his first wife died. Then there is the case of Gil-galad's sister Finduilas who fell for a Man even after loving and being betrothed to an Elf prior to that.

So there is nothing wrong with Galadriel developing feelings for Halbrand/Sauron because, in TroP's continuity, Celeborn is presumed to be dead. Now, if she wished to marry him then the formalities would need to be untangled and sorted out. It also depends on whether Celeborn is actually dead or not. But that's a topic for another day.

All things said and done, nothing about Saurondriel on the show defies the worldbuilding rules as such for none of it is unprecedented. Elves have fallen in love more than once. An Elf did get married again. Another Elf fell for a Maia and married her. In an AU where Sauron didn't side with Morgoth and his path crossed with Galadriel in Valinor, the two might have hit it off for good.

What's most alluring about TroP's approach with Saurondriel is that they met under unlikely circumstances and, within a short while, forged a bond so intense that it left its mark on them. And since both are immortals who have existed for millennia, it is really special because they don't develop a connection this powerful often and with just anybody.

I think the “Elves love only one their entire immortal lives” is quite a narrow view of the lore. Elves, mainly the Noldor, don’t divorce. And they don’t because of their History. Much of the turmoil of the Noldor is blamed on Fëanor’s parents divorce. So Fëanor’s father asked the Valar for permission to remarry after his wife (Fëanor’s mother), tired of giving birth, went to the Hall of Mandos to sleep. She went like “you know what? F*ck this sh*t!” on her husband. The Valar accepted and Fëanor’s half-siblings were born, and Morgoth used his jealousy to drive a wedge in the family that eventually led to disaster. So, yeah, just because the Elves don’t divorce doesn’t mean it’s some kind of “eternal love” or “true soulmates” type of situation. That being said, it’s not lore breaking for Galadriel to have romantic feelings for Sauron while being married to Celeborn. Tolkien didn’t write it, sure, but it’s not against the lore he created 🤷🏽‍♀️

👆

[havenotwillnotreadthebooks]

Headcanon that somehow Finrod is Elrond’s most legally legitimate relative besides Galadriel, Celebrian, and his children (Aragorn excluded).

• Whenever Finrod had a Good Friendship with a Beorian they would make him a godfather of their kid(s).

• Beren is legally Finrod’s godchild (along with several other beorians).

• Then Luthien and Beren decided to honor Finrod by making him the godfather of their kid, Dior.

• By some divine humor, Dior adds Finrod to the legal family registry as his uncle or something.

• Elwing keeps the family registry as it is because if her dad claimed this “Finrod ‘Nóm’ Felagund” is family, it must be true.

• The argument can be made that Elwing left her kids, sure, but whatever anyone’s opinion about Elwing is, Finrod is still legally e&e’s grand-uncle/great-grandfather

Now for the other side!

• Finrod is Idril’s honorary uncle and legal guardian if her parents die. Because Turgon in Valinor never thought death would be a thing and he wanted to annoy his siblings.

• Idril makes Finrod Earendil’s Honorary Grand-Uncle and Legal Guardian, to keep the joke going in an increasingly stressful world.

• Eärendil doesn’t know the joke but the paperwork says Finrod Felagund is his family, and they’re both blonde so it’s probably true.

• Eärendil makes sure to put Finrod in the family registry after Gondolin has fallen and he is all grown up. Gil-Galad squints, but doesn’t question The Dreaded Finwean Family Tree™️.

• Eärendil does not think to communicate Grand-Uncle Finrod to Elwing.

• Elwing does not think to talk to Eärendil about Grand-Uncle Finrod.

And finally

• By his marriage to Celebrian, Elrond is legally Finrod’s nephew-in-law.

• By his feanorian kidnap-adoption, Elrond is Finrod’s second half-cousin.

• Once in Valinor; Elrond has to read all this paperwork and go through the slow realization of “Finrod, again.” As the sunshine elf continues to pop up Everywhere in his family tree both biological and adoptive.

Of course, there are other people that Elrond is also ridiculously related to but, the idea of Finrod “That Friendly Guy” Felagund somehow being Elrond’s most Legally-Binding relative is great.

[markantonys]

while i'm on the subject of trakand speculation, i'm going to properly lay out my theory that moiraine won't be related to them in the show.

the show is very good at planning ahead. since s2 introduced elayne and they knew s3 would introduce the rest of the family, the s2 damodred family plotline would've been an absolutely perfect opportunity to set up moiraine's connection to the trakands (numerous occasions where she or anvaere could've mentioned having a now-dead brother, or there could've been a little boy included in the young sisters portrait). since that didn't happen and s2 very very strongly implied it was only ever the 2 sisters and their 2 parents, it makes me suspect that connection has been axed.

per a leak from the actor's cv, it seems galad is named galad trakand in the show. this could certainly just be a change made to group him more explicitly with the trakand family without removing his damodred heritage, but it could also indicate that his dad was not a damodred in showverse.

the only thing their dad being a damodred matters for that i can think of is that it gives elayne a claim on the cairhienin throne. but the show could easily just say their dad was from a different cairhienin noble family, and depending on how many seasons it gets, elayne claiming the sun throne may get axed as a plot point altogether and so this may be irrelvant.

let's be real, moiraine being their aunt is a funny piece of trivia but it does not matter in the books at all. it just doesn't. and the show going "oh moiraine's their aunt btw" but not doing anything with that information - that just raises too many unnecessary questions and curiosities, especially since moiraine is a bigger character in the show than in the books so we'd naturally want to see her spending time with elayne if it was revealed they were aunt and niece. so imo, the show has 2 choices: 1) keep her as their aunt but actually do something with it (not the best use of time, and tricky to squeeze in since s3 is likely moiraine's last for a while and she won't have much opportunity to interact with elayne, gawyn, or galad) or 2) just make her not their aunt.

they could say that their dad was a damodred but just a more distant relative rather than moiraine's brother (although s2's whole Fallen House vibes did make it seem like moiraine, anvaere, and barthanes are the only damodreds left), or they could say he was a cairhienin noble from a different house, or they could say he was an andoran noble. but i'm not going to bank on him being closely related to moiraine in showverse. (now, there is the alleged s2 gawyn audition script that referred to an aunt that ruined his life, but considering that not a single line from that script, let alone gawyn himself, came even close to being in s2, i'm taking the whole thing with a massive block of salt lmao)

then, what about galad and rand's family connection? this one, i could go either way on.

i would put it in the same bucket where, for me personally, i think the show should only include it if they can do actually something with it in a way the books didn't, or else they should cut it. and i can see strong arguments for cutting it - the show's already on such a condensed schedule compared to the books that it might not be wise to allocate time to delving into a rand-galad brother relationship that isn't important even in the books; rand's love life is already unusual and ~controversial~ enough without getting into "he's dating his half-brother's half-sister" territory; galad's overall story hinges on his relationships with elayne, gawyn, and morgase and so that is where his family-related screentime should be focused; galad and rand's relationship is never relevant to rand's story and is only relevant to galad's very briefly during the last battle and in a way that's easily cut (it feels more like sanderson cramming it in out of obligation to try and make the relationship relevant, rather than that the relationship actually IS relevant).

my hot take is that the only reason so many readers care about rand and galad being brothers and want the show to get into it is because they love those two characters, but hate elayne and gawyn, and thus they subconsciously lend more importance to rand-galad than is merited, sometimes to the point of placing that relationship over galad's other sibling relationships. but if you actually look at the story, it's the galad-elayne-gawyn relationship that's crucial; galad-rand doesn't matter for jack shit. so i can very easily see the show cutting it and i don't think anything would be broken by this. just say that tigraine was unmarried & childless when she went to the waste, and that galad's bio mom was some other andoran noblewoman (or even morgase herself to really simplify the family tree, though him being her stepson is something i WOULD be kinda sad to lose because it's a very sweet relationship and we don't often get to see positive stepparent/stepchild relationships in media).

okay where was i. anyway, i won't say that i strongly predict the rand-galad connection WILL be cut, or that i would be upset if it was left in and touched upon in more detail than the books did (i wouldn't be upset at all!). the show HAS historically been good at making more of some emotional beats or connections than the books did. for example, i could see them keeping the whole galad-tigraine-rand backstory & connections intact, and using the fact that his bio mom abandoned him to flesh out galad's character and explain why he is the way he is, in a similar way to how nynaeve's parents' deaths went from "just briefly mentioned and never seems to affect her" in the books to "major formative event in her childhood that explicitly shapes who she is as an adult" in the show (yeah you can argue that galad's backstory shaped him in the books, but that idea is barely in the text from what i remember because he truly does spend just about all his time & energy dwelling on his stepfamily). so it really is just a question of "will the show choose to streamline things by cutting an extraneous connection that isn't important in the books" or "will the show choose to take an extraneous connection that isn't important in the books and make it important", and that's hard to guess at because there have been plenty of examples of both approaches in the show so far.

so time will tell on the rand-galad connection! but i do feel fairly confident in predicting that the moiraine-trakands connection will be cut. but am still prepared to put on my clown shoes once 3x01 has a scene of elayne being like "oh hey aunt moiraine" jkdjfg

[daughterofthesunlands]

A Listening Ear

Part 3 - Amartëa Melmë (Truest Love)

Relationships: Arondir & Elrond Peredhel,

Arondir & Elrond Peredhel & Ereinion Gil-galad

Characters: Arondir, Elrond, Gil-galad

Word Count: 927 words

Summary:

After Elrond witnesses the very strange-acting, scattered High-King, he seeks a listening ear to try and make sense of the Situation. He goes to seek the counsel of the Woodland Elf.

Arondir sat on the trunk of a tree in a beautiful clearing, polishing the dark wood of his bow.

He had little to do in Lindon, and times like these were when he remembered Theo, far away in Pelargir. 

And he would miss him... and he would miss his mother, too.

Whoever he thought would keep him company (Elrond that was), seemed to always be occupied by something, may it be as insignificant as the fallen leaves on the ground. So when he suddenly heard his voice call for him through the woods (When it had always been he who had to find the Herald), Arondir was most bewildered... and most intrigued.

    "Arondir!" Elrond's voice bellowed through the forest. 

He had thought about it all for about an hour. Biting his lip as he paced back and forth, looking to his left and right, then halting and stemming his hands on his hips as each path of logical explanation he took in his mind reached a dead end.

In the midst of the woods, he looked a madman, cursing in Sindarin as he paced around restlessly, frustrated anything he imagined only seemed to grow more illogical and dramatic.

The servants surely must have noticed something. He was sure of it. 

But they would never tell. No, not a word. 

The Herald tried to think about the King's habits. 

The King, who would wake before any other elf in Lindon, who would see all before any second pair of eyes ever could.

Had Gil-galad walked into the woods by his lonesome and discovered another threat?

Just what could have rendered the Elven King in such a state of..?

He had not even the words to describe the High-King as he'd seen him.

In the case something bad was happening, he could not be the only one to know. He simply could not be. 

He had to find a confidante, an elf who himself could maybe believe him and see for themselves.

    "Arondir!" Elrond appeared from behind a bush, his cheeks slightly flushed as he panted, out of breath.

    "Elrond?" Arondir raised an eyebrow as he put aside his bow.

    "What has happened for you to run? Is there an attack on Lindon?"

The Herald's eyes widened and immediately he lifted his open palm, signalling that it was no such thing.

    "N-No!" he answered louder than he'd intended.

     "It- is something much...stranger."

The Archer grew silent, and his bright green eyes sharpened, concentrating intrigue and yet, too, confusion. He watched Elrond, who he'd never seen in such a state, catch his breath, straighten himself and bush off the sweat on his palms.

Elrond then cleared his throat as he stole a glance at him.

    "You may please not repeat this to another ear." he said, stealing another glance at him.

Arondir's brows furrowed.

    "Why not?" he asked without blinking. 

    "Because... you are the first to be told, Arondir." Elrond closed his eyes, before he exhaled. 

His brows remained furrowed.

    "It's a secret." the Woodland elf concluded.

    "No, it-" Elrond began. "Well it must be." he insisted. "Are you confiding a secret in me?"

    "It is not a secret." Elrond finally turned his entire body towards him.

    "I have come for your opinion on a matter... and for a listening ear."

    "Ah. I see...." Arondir finally blinked, nodding understandingly.

    "Then..." Arondir tilted his head once more. "What may that matter be? It had you come here in a hurry."

    "Well..." This time it was Elrond who fell silent. He lowered his eyes, and Arondir watched them dart back and forth, as if he was mining for the right words to say.

     "It is about the High-King... he began. "This morning as I arrived at the Great Tree he stood beneath. When he turned to face me it was as if he, in his eyes, was elsewhere completely." 

Elrond's eyebrows furrowed. "He wore not his crown! The King's crown! And his hair seemed as if it had not been groomed by the servants... as if he had awoken and instantly left his chambers."

Arondir listened, and as he saw the concern in his friend's face, he began to ponder himself.

    "And there in his hand, as I looked, there... he held a crimson leaf. A single leaf."

Elrond looked up Arondir. "Here, in our golden forest."

     "But," Arondir finally spoke to him, "It is but a single leaf, Elrond."

     "The scarlet Maple trees lie far out. And there is more to that leaf." Elrond insisted.

     "Had you seen the way he held it, clung unto it." he gestured to the elf, "If only you'd seen the way he looked at it... and the eyes with which he looked at me,"

     "The sternness I know him by completely faded. It seemed as if replaced by... a vulnerability in them." Elrond's voice grew it seemed, lower and gentler after each word, until the last words come out in a gentle breath.

Arondir looked at the Half-elf only for a second more before he diverted his eyes. In Elrond's words he had found a memory of his own and recognized a feeling. A dear one ...that now pained him. The feeling of love, and the memory of its first rise in his heart. Somewhere, Arondir found his intuitive thought foolish. He hadn't seen what the Herald had seen, he knew he could be completely mistaken.

And yet, somewhere, he doubted that he was wrong.

Mere words alone were all it took to know and recognize a familiar thing, even if eyes never bore witness.

[tamurilofrivendell]

Sleeping Beauty | Chapter 5

Previous Chapters [1, 2, 3, 4] Read on AO3 [x]

Pairing: Thranduil/Fem. Reader Summary: A Sleeping Beauty inspired tale with Thranduil the Elvenking, and a female elf living in Mirkwood under the care of Radagast, who is actually the 'lost' daughter of the late High King Gil-Galad. Taglist: @hufflepuff1700​, @jinlizz-dragondrama​, @firelightinferno​, @bubbleyukismile, @coopsgirl​, @achromaticerebus​, @sleepyamygdala​ @smalltownbigheart​

Once you had finished fussing over the elk, you turned back to Thranduil. He was watching you and you smiled back at him. “I don’t suppose I should greet you quite the same way I did your animal.” You teased, moving past him and finding yourself pleased when you heard him laugh.

“I suppose not.” He said once he had regained his composure, thinking of you petting his hair like you did the creatures fur. An image so absurd he laughed again.

You weren't gathering berries as you had been yesterday, you were simply sitting in the clearing. Enjoying the air, the freedom, and the sounds of the forest. It was always so lovely here and you could see and hear some of your little animal friends in the trees above. You sat on a fallen log and, after a moment, Thranduil followed.

"You do not mind if I stay a while, do you?" He ventured, gesturing to the space beside you.

You looked back up at him, considering for a brief moment before you shook your head. "Oh. No... no. No, I don't mind."

Thranduil sat down, noting that your slight awkwardness had returned. There was something endearing about it, though he pushed the thought aside. The elk moved off to graze while Thranduil simply sat and watched you for a moment.

"What?" You asked after a few seconds, turning your head when you felt his eyes still on you.

“Sorry.” Thranduil shook his head. "I am merely trying to figure you out." He admitted.

"Figure me out?" You tilted your head, confused.

He chuckled. "Well, yes." Thranduil nodded. "I was not aware there were any elves living alone out in the forest."

"Oh, I'm not alone." You stated simply, shrugging, the real meaning of his words either lost on you or ignored. "I live with my uncle."

Thranduil was even more surprised by this fact and the expression on his face told you as much. "Two of you?" He went quiet for a moment, thinking. He knew of no nearby dwellings. Well, save Radagast's of course but he hardly thought that dilapidated thing counted. "Where do you live?"

You went quiet at that, suddenly very unsure. "Oh." You shook your head, turning to look at him. "I can’t say.” You hesitated as he blinked back at you in confusion. “I'm not supposed to tell strangers.”

Thranduil frowned slightly. He was no threat to elves living in the wood. Surely you could tell that? He remembered you didn’t know that he was the king and he supposed he could have told you here and now... but something stopped him.

"Well, we are not really strangers, are we?" He said instead, deciding to let the issue lie for now.

You gave him a look, tilting your head as you regarded him with curiosity. "Are we not?"

Thranduil shook his head. "No. Of course not. We've met before."

You frowned at him and shook your head. "Yesterday. I don’t think that really counts."

Thranduil shook his head again. "No, not yesterday."

You regarded him with complete confusion then. "Not--? What do you mean?"

Thranduil chuckled, shrugging a little as he moved to stand again. "Don’t you remember?” He gave you a pointed look, his eyes glittering with amusement. “Once upon a dream."

"A dream?" You chuckled then as you realised then that he was just being silly. "Well, I am afraid I do not remember, good sir... did I say anything in this dream?"

"You said-" Thranduil smirked, a gleam in his eye as he extended his had out towards you. "-that you would sing me a song and we would dance."

You blinked at him but you couldn’t help the small, amused smile tugging at your lips, giving away your own amusement. “Did I indeed?”

Thranduil nodded, humming an affirmative. “In fact, you promised.” He wasn’t entirely certain what had come over him. It couldn’t have even been ten minutes ago that he had been absolutely stricken by those memories of the past brought on by his meeting with the Enchantress. Now, it seemed almost as though he was being spelled by an enchantress of a completely different kind.

He stayed where he was, looking at you, before you eventually broke the stand off and laughed softly, rising from where you were seated and reaching out for the hand he was still holding out towards you.

“Well, I suppose I cannot go back on a promise, can I?” You teased as you looked up at him. Thranduil was looking back at you triumphantly as you started to sing a soft tune, much like yesterday’s. He pulled you a little closer, one hand dropping to your waist as he started to lead you in a little dance around the clearing.

You felt a bit silly at first, laughing every so often between the song, making Thranduil laugh at the same time. Soon, he began to sing with you in a way he hadn’t since his father died and he was thrust onto the throne, and every woodland creature nearby stopped their own song to come closer so they could listen to the song of the Elvenking that they had so greatly missed.

So caught in the moment were the both of you, that the dark pair of eyes watching through a thick tangle of nearby trees and bushes went completely unnoticed. So caught up were the animals that not even they had the wits to sound the alarm.

Through the trees, the Enchantress narrowed her gaze. Thranduil was dancing in the clearing with some maiden. The sight made her sick, though she couldn’t conceal her curiosity about this she-elf who, from what she’d heard of their conversation, did not live within the halls of the woodland realm.

Her gaze was fixed on Thranduil, wanting to wipe the smile right off his face, though her attention continued to drift back to you. Who were you, who could have the Elvenking looking and sounding so light after she had specifically intended to tear down his defences during their little meeting.

The good thing was that he seemed far too enamoured with the elf in front of him to sense her presence. That was good. That meant she could poke around a little more. Silently, she turned and tore herself away from the couple in the clearing, hurrying through the trees to continue her exploration.

For many long years after that fateful day in Lindon, the Enchantress had thought (as had everybody) that Gil-Galad’s daughter had lost her life. It had not been her intention when she appeared in Lindon that day, for the elfling to be slaughtered there and then. No, she had bestowed upon the baby a curse that would have had them all living in fear and paranoia for thousands of years. However, things had gone slightly awry, ending in the deaths of two queens and one princess. Grief had rained down upon Gil-Galad that day as intended, but the Enchantress had been left slightly dissatisfied. It was over too quickly for her liking.

Many years later, however, word had reached her ears from a spy within Lindon itself. He said that the princess had survived and had been taken far away and hidden, to be kept as such until the time limit on her curse ran itself out.

However, unable to find  a trace of the child, the Enchantress was left still furious. Her orcs found no trace of the elleth in any town, forest, or mountain. She even began to consider that the spy had been lying to her and had tried to track him down to kill him - unluckily for her, however, he had already passed on to the Halls of Mandos by this point.

The Enchantress did not give up her search and a good thing too... for she knew it was the right choice. She knew the princess did indeed live. She had come into possession of one of the palantir a great many years ago, though she had since lost it again, and in it she had discovered the truth. The princess had indeed survived, and the Enchantress would stop at nothing to find her.

Gil-Galad may be long dead but her need for revenge was not and she would not rest until her curse was completed.

The song eventually came to an end and you and Thranduil came to a stop in the middle of the clearing. There was a brief pause and then you both started laughing.

Thranduil let go of you and stepped back, giving a brief bow.

You returned the gesture with a giggle, cheeks flushed.

You had gone from pretty much no contact with anybody to dancing and singing with this strange ellon in two days. It was a little absurd and you knew you could not tell Radagast or he would forbid you from leaving on your own, but you realised that you enjoyed the feeling of it. You enjoyed not being alone in the woods, having someone to share it with... you’d had the animals, of course, but it wasn’t exactly the same. You were aware that you barely knew this elf but you felt like you might trust him already. He hadn’t given you any reason not to.

“I see you are a lady who keeps her word.” Thranduil joked lightly. “Very honourable.”

“But of course.” You laughed again as you turned back towards the bench. A bird flew down from the branches above and landed in front of you. Thranduil watched you ruffle its feathers with a smile.

He stayed for a while longer but then he had to take his leave and go back to his halls. At least he would be returning less frustrated than he had left.

He returned two days later to find you were picking berries again, which this time he helped you with. Then he came again the next day, and the day after that. Instead of telling you that he was the king, Thranduil decided that he was simply not going to. Not yet, anyway. He quite liked the time he spent out here with you, able to be simply Thranduil.

His unease about the Enchantress was still very present but he did not see her again for over a week...

[erebusbabylon]

Threads of Fate Chapters 3 and 4

Find chapters 1 and 2 HERE

Notes: No chapter warnings for chapter 3 or 4.

CHAPTERS 3 AND 4

Chapter Three: News From Eregion

You found Eleanior sitting on a stone bench in the courtyard. She had a small plate with bread on it.

"Come! Sit and eat! She said patting the empty spot next to her. "What took you so long? I was worried you had fallen back asleep."

"I needed to check on Gil-galad. He was a lot worse for wear than I last night. I wanted to make sure he was okay this morning." You said between bites.

"Last night's celebrations were quite...vibrant. I think many over indulged." Eleanior said with a smirk.

"Yes, and I fear it is just a small glimpse at what our wedding celebration will be like." You said giggling.

After a brief moment of silence you spoke "You know, this morning he suggested we marry right away in a small ceremony, and have a large celebration after I return from Eregion."

"So he would support you going to Eregion! That is wonderful!" Eleanior shrieked.

"Yes, yes it seems that way, but as I told him, there is no reason to get wrapped up in something that hasn't come to pass." You said mildly exasperated.

"Why are you so certain that you won't hear from Eregion? It's plain to see your mindset has changed since the High King proposed. Before his proposal you were filled with excitement and anticipation. You couldn't wait to hear from Eregion. Now you speak of the matter like you hope you do not hear back!" Eleanior admonished you.

"Of course my mindset has changed! Two weeks ago I was not the future queen of the Noldor! Two weeks ago my path was not yet paved. Two weeks ago I was free to indulge in the benefits of courting the king without the prying eyes, without courtiers bombarding me with rules and expectations, without protocol and etiquette being constantly hammered into me!" Your voice grew louder with every word you spoke. "Before the engagement I could just be with him. Now I must work with him. I feel as if my life, and my priorities have shifted greatly!" 

Eleanior took a deep breath and hummed thoughtfully before speaking. "Have you spoken to Gil-galad about all of these feelings?" she asked. 

You scoffed. "No! He has just as much responsibility and expectation placed upon him, if not more!"

"Have you considered that because of that fact, he is the best person to speak to about your feelings? Perhaps he will have guidance only someone with such experience can give." Eleanior took your hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "You really should speak to him." 

You shifted uncomfortably and murmured a nearly silent "Yeah."

As you and Eleanior sat on the bench watching the birds and butterflies in silence your mind began to wander. You thought of Gil-galad, and of your upcoming wedding. You thought about Eregion and how badly you wished to study there. Your mind wrestled with itself over the many what ifs and uncertainty. After some time you heard the sound of horse hooves behind you. Eleanior jumped up from the stone bench and shouted. "The herald has arrived!" 

You stood up and turned to see the herald dismount from his horse. His brown cloth bag was stuffed full of scrolls and envelops. You took a shaky breath and called out. "Any news from Eregion?" 

The herald looked down into his bag and began rifling through his collection of letters. After a few moments he pulled four scrolls and two envelops from his bag. "Yes, I have several dispatches from Eregion." He said holding out the stack. 

Eleanior squealed and ran to him. She snatched the lot from his grip and began frantically searching to see if one of the letters bared your name. Her eyes sparkled as they fell upon an envelope addressed to you. "A response! You got a response!" She shouted gleefully. 

Your heart raced as you approached her. She held out the scroll for you to grab. It was sealed with the emblem of the master healer of Eregion. You suddenly felt dizzy and sick. Eleanior’s eyes widened, and she leaned in closer.

“Open it!” she urged, barely able to contain her excitement.

"Maybe I should wait and open it with Gil-galad later..." you said, half hoping she would agree. 

"Oh come on! Stop stalling and open it!" She demanded.

With trembling fingers, you broke the seal and unfurled the parchment. Elegant script flowed across the page, and you read aloud:

Dear Lady, It is with great honor that we extend an invitation for you to study under the esteemed Master Healer Miroden in Eregion. Your talents have been recognized, and we believe that your presence will greatly enrich the healing arts in our realm. Your studies are set to begin shortly, and we hope to welcome you with open arms. This opportunity is not just a privilege but a calling—one that may shape your future and the future of those you serve. Yours sincerely, The Council of Eregion  

As you finished reading, you realized you had barely taken a breath the entire time. You breathed deeply and looked at Eleanior. The weight of the words sank in, and you two just looked at each other for a few moments. Finally Eleanior spoke. “This is wonderful news!” Her excitement was bubbling over. “You must go! Imagine the knowledge you will gain! Think of all the lives you could change!”

Your heart tightened at the thought of leaving Lindon, of leaving Gil-galad, and the life you were building together. Your mind raced. “But what about the wedding? What about everything I’ve planned? I can’t just leave now, not when I’m about to become the High Queen of Lindon.”

Eleanior stepped closer, her expression softening. “You can’t let this opportunity slip away. The master healer is renowned throughout Middle-Earth. This is your chance to learn from the best. You said it yourself earlier, The High King supports you in this endeavor. Please, do not squander this opportunity."

Chapter Four: Fork in the Road

You spent the rest of the afternoon trying to decide how to tell Gil-galad the news. Finally, as the sun was setting you gathered your nerves and went to find him. The sun hung low in the sky as you made your way to the council chamber. As you approached the grand doors of the council chamber, you paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. The thought of leaving Gil-galad, even temporarily, filled you with dread.

Pushing the door open, you found him seated at the long, ornate table writing. The moment he noticed you, a smile broke across his face, illuminating the room. He rose to greet you, his presence commanding yet warm.

“There is my girl! I was wondering what you've been up to today. Is everything all right?” he asked, concern flickering in his eyes.

You nodded, though you heart felt heavy. “I have news,” you began, your voice barely a whisper.

“Come, sit with me." He gestured to the chair beside him, his expression shifting to one of curiosity.

Taking a seat, you glanced around to ensure you were alone. “I heard back from Eregion.” you finally said, your heart pounding in your chest. “They’ve accepted me to study under the master healer.”

The words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, silence enveloped the chamber. Gil-galad’s brows furrowed in surprise, but there was no hint of anger or disappointment in his eyes. Instead, he leaned forward, intrigue sparkling in his gaze.

“That is wonderful news!” he exclaimed, a smile spread across his face. “You’ve worked so hard for this, and your talents deserve to be recognized.”

“I know.” You replied, the excitement in your voice mingling with the weight of your thoughts. “But it means leaving Lindon, leaving you… at least for a while.”

His expression softened, and he reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers. “You must go,” he said firmly. “This is an incredible opportunity, one that could enhance your knowledge and skills. You would be a fool not to accept it.”

“But what about us?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly. “We have a wedding to plan, a life to build together. I can’t just abandon that.”

Gil-galad’s grip tightened, his eyes searching yours. “I would never want you to feel trapped by our plans. Your dreams matter to me as much as our future together. I want you to be the best healer you can be. Besides, we can figure this out. I was not being glib when I suggested we marry right away, in a small ceremony. "

"You know we can't do that." You sighed.

"I am the High King. I can do whatever I please." He said matter-of-factly. "I would marry you tonight, under the moon's light, just you and me. We only need utter our vows. Then...I can take you to my chambers and become one with you, body and soul. By the night's end, we will be husband and wife."

You blushed at the thought of finally being able to be with him, truly and fully. "I am just as eager as you are to wed, but we have an obligation to the peoples of this realm. They deserve to see their king and future queen speak their vows."

You both sat in silence, hands intertwined, feeling the heavy weight of the decision between you.

After several moments you spoke. "I know in my heart I must go, but I am terrified if I go, I will lose what we have...lose you."

“Oh, my darling! You won’t lose me,” he promised, his voice steady and reassuring. “We’ll find a way to make it work. Think of all the knowledge you’ll gain. Imagine returning to Lindon, enriched with experience, ready to help our people. You would be a beacon of hope and healing. You said it yourself, we have an obligation to the peoples of Lindon. If you can gain knowledge that will help our people, you must go and seek it out."

His words resonated deep within you, igniting a flicker of hope amidst your uncertainty.

Gil-galad smiled gently, cupping your face in his hands. "This is your path, and I will support you every step of the way, no matter how far apart we may be.”

Tears brimmed in your eyes as you absorbed his unwavering support. The fear that had gripped your heart began to loosen its hold. “You really mean that?” you asked, your voice trembling.

“Of course. He replied, his gaze unwavering. “I want you to embrace this opportunity. You’ll return to me, and together we’ll build the life we’ve dreamed of. And I’ll be right here, waiting for you.”

In that moment, you felt the weight of your fears begin to lift. The decision was still daunting, but with Gil-galad by your side, the path ahead felt a little clearer. “Thank you,” you said softly, leaning into his touch. “You make it easier to face this.”

[thephoenixandthecrocodile]

My Thoughts of Rings of Power Episode 07 Part 2

I love that I’m legitimately rooting for the Orcs and the Elves in this battle, again highlighting the waste and stupidity of war.

Ooo interesting to catch a glimpse of Orc burial traditions. And Adar’s tears? His pain? This man who has been through every torture under the sun can still shed a tear for his children. *sobs*

Also, Galadriel, you’re fooling no one, girl. Frodo and Sam did a better job disguising themselves than you

Arondir and Galadriel time! I love their friendship even though they’ve had like thirty seconds of screen time together. I don’t know, but they work really well together.

“He has taken everything else from me.” ☹ Arondir, what about your adopted sons: Isildur and Theo?

God damn it Durin III. Now is not the time to commit some kinslaying. Also, Durin IV looks good in his armor.

I mean I know you have to put your people before all else, but I think Disa can handle Durin III just find by herself.

This fucking conversation between Celebrimbor and Sauron about Morgoth and torture being a game and pain a reward, I love everything about it. Also Sauron is such a delusion, manipulative little shit.

I love that Celebrimbor almost understands what Sauron means about pain and perfection. Just like Galadriel, there is a core part of Celebrimbor that understands and even appreciates Sauron and vice versa. That’s why he’s able to manipulate them. Pushed one way too hard and Galadriel and Celebrimbor could have fallen into the darkness, just like Sauron.

“You truly are the Great Deceiver. You can deceive even yourself.” Fuck, yeah, Brimby!

Yes, Celebrimbor, rebel! Destroy those rings! (although we know it won’t work)

I CANNOT BELIEVE what Celebrimbor did! Ahhhh! Such a deep lore reference, an example of how willful and brave Celebrimbor truly is, and how much Sauron underestimated him.

“Whose will is the mightier.” Such badassery. Love you, Celebrimbor!

For fuck’s sake just let this man escape the forge!

Also fuck those soldiers for their disrespect. Don’t feel bad when any of you die.

Yay! Galadriel put those assholes in their place

The Celebrimbor-Galadriel reunion. The sadness, the guilt, the shame, the soft care and love they have for each other. *sobs even harder*

And his speech about the light and how it most likely inspires Galadriel to become the Lady of Light we know in the Third Age *sobs even harder*

Seriously give Charles Edwards ALL the rewards or we riot!

That little head nod and attempt at a brave smile as he returns to the forge to face torment and death. ☹

RIAN! FUCKING BAD ASS QUEEN OF THE NIGHT

Love this core principle of Tolkien’s world: fight and keep fighting (however you can) evil until your last breath. That is all we can do.

And then Adar sends in Damrod, ensuring his own children will turn on him. ☹

Yes! Arondir, Gil-Galad, and Elrond team up to take down the troll!

Although seriously where has Gil-Galad been this entire time? XD

Sauron is an evil bastard, but his take down of the Elven guards was cool.

Also, poor Celebrimbor. He now stands against Sauron alone – again. ☹

Again, Charles Edward killing it with the uncertain swallow, the scared, but determined look in his eyes. He knows he doesn’t stand a chance, but he will do what he can while he still can

“Durin will come” – all right, just kill me now. My heart is shattered beyond repair

Please don’t take the Durin-Elrond friendship from me. It’s all I have.

Also, everyone in Elrond’s company except for Galadriel and (maybe) Camnir has died in front of him.

SON OF A BITCH!!!! Arondir IS NOT DEAD!!! NO! NO! NO!

Someone better use Nenya’s powers to fucking heal him.

[that-angry-noldo]

A fic where Finarfin meets Elrond and Elros during the War of Wrath!!

tumblr user thelordofgifs. grips your shoulders. this fic has been haunting me all day. whole day spent brainstorming and i still have no idea how do i want to proceed. gazes at you grimly (/lh)

"-and then he CHARGED AT IT WITH A SONG, ELROND! Elrond, I may have accidentally fallen in love with how absolutely unhinged he looked. Elrond-"

"You cannot fall in love with your great-granduncle," Elrond grunted, and pinched Elros, prompting him to sit still while he was quickly braiding his hair. "Besides, he's married."

"No- no, Elrond, you don't understand, it was absolute perfection. That Balrog didn't stand a chance."

"It stood a very good chance," Gil-Galad groaned from the other side of the tent. "Which it proved. Your great-granduncle didn't slay it. It was almost quite the opposite, really."

"Excuse you," Elros protested, "it pretty much was almost dead by the end of the fight! It fled, I saw it with my own eyes!"

"And your great-granduncle almost lost his life in the process!" Gil-Galad snapped. "Was it heroic? Yes. Was it idiotic? Absolutely! You don't charge at Balrogs, Elros, you find the quickest way to escape. For Ulmo's sake."

Elros rolled his eyes. "You're so boring, cousin. I bet you also think Fingolfin challenging Morgoth was dumb."

"Let's not talk about my opinions on Fingolfin. Elrond, you should visit the healing tents when you're done with your twin. They might need your help."

"Sure."

"I'll go with him!" Elros perked up. Elrond rolled his eyes.

"Of course," Gil-Galad sighed. "Whatever to get you out of my sight, you reckless child."

~

The tents were quiet. Sometimes someone would groan in pain or whisper a few hushed words of delirium; but all the serious cases were already taken care of, and Elrond couldn't help but feel relieved at that.

"Elrond!" someone cried quietly. It was a healer, one of the main ones. He quickly made his way to them. "I'm glad you're here."

"I wanted to offer my help."

"How good are you at playing harp?"

Elrond froze, taken aback by the question. Elros scoffed. Imagine if Maglor heard this. Do you think he'd take that as an insult to his parenting abilities?

"I am... alright at playing harp, I guess? I know how to play a song or two."

"Excellent. Follow me."

"It's about the King," the healer continued. "He's in stable condition, but he's weak, after that- stunt he pulled. He can't rest properly, any sleep is interrupted by nightmares. Music might help him."

"Alright," Elrond said. "I'll see what I can do."

~

This wasn't the first time Elrond saw Finarfin. He saw him leave for battles, or walk through camp; the King was always cool and collected, with strong voice, steady eyes, and an aura of security that radiated through him.

Well, Elrond was a healer. He knew what wounds do to the strongest of warriors.

The room was barely lit. There was a simple bed in the middle, and a man lying on it, half-lidded eyes wandering the ceiling. His body was covered in bandages, breath shallow; long golden hair was glowing with a weak unsteady light.

"Your Majesty," Elrond called quietly, and gestured Elros to get on the other side of the tent. "Can you hear me?"

The man's eyes opened, and his gaze fell on Elrond. It lingered there for a second. A faint smile painted the King's face.

"You must be one of Eärendil's boys. You look just like your parents."

Elrond smiled. "Yes, I am. I am Elrond, and over there is Elros. How do you feel?"

The King closed his eyes. Elrond waited until they opened again.

"Imagine if... you were whipped, and then slammed with a sledgehammer."

"Yes, I suppose that's what happened. Are you in pain?"

"A bit. Nothing- unusual," the King breathed, and then smiled again. "It's nice to - to finally meet you, Peredhil. I would- meet you before, but Ereinion-"

"You shouldn't talk, you Majesty."

"Finarfin. Or Arafinwë. Whatever you prefer."

"We've been calling you great-granduncle," Elros said, insecure. The King laughed, then winced and coughed. He lay back on the pillow, exhausted.

"Well. That works too, though I'm a- great-great granduncle, am I not?"

"Yes, but that's a mouthful."

"Ah. I guess you... have... a point."

"Quit talking, your Majesty," Elrond sighed again, tugging at the harpstrings experimentally. "You should rest. Try to sleep."

The King closed his eyes slowly. Elrond looked at his twin, and Elros nodded.

They Sang a lullaby - the one Maglor would sing to them during thunderstorms, or to chase away their nightmares. By the time they finished, the King was fast asleep, his face still pale, but his breath steady, and his body relaxed. Elrond nodded to his twin, and they quietly left the tent.

(worth noting that i already have a fic with similar idea! it's called "the king and the healer" :) finarfin and elrond discuss their problematic family)

[beyonddarkness]

SAURON REBUILT

I cracked the code.

Sauron was rebuilt at the end of the first season. But HOW did he rebuild his power?

Think about this:

Who/what brought Sauron low in power?

Did he just wait things out, and let himself naturally rebuild?

What was required for him to rebuild his power?

The same questions may be asked for the Third Age (LOTR).

Why did Sauron have to rebuild his power?

Why was he incapable of naturally rebuilding over time?

What was the one thing he needed in order to rebuild?

First...

TIMELINE

J.D. and Patrick have not changed the timeline as much as so many assume. It is not jumbled, and it is not even compressed in the way that is widely accepted.

"What was important to the Tolkien estate was the principle of the narrative flow and the sequence of events, not the dates. The rings are made here, there's a war between Sauron and the elves after that, a later Sauron is taken to Númenor, Númenor falls, Gondor is established, and you end up with the Battle of the Last Alliance. Does it matter if a hundred or 500 years passed between those events? No" (Patrick McKay).

The "time compression" simply entails shifting the events that Patrick listed to the end of the Second Age, instead of spreading them out over three thousand years. Everything else stays the same. The anchor point is the Forging of the Rings, and every major event (which Patrick mentioned) would naturally follow suit—that is what they compressed. The actual duration of the Age has not changed.

We did not meet Sauron at the beginning of the Second Age, but at the tail end of it. (Sauron did not go sulk on a raft right after saying sorry to Eönwë; that obeisance was thousands of years ago.)

"Year gave way to year. Century gave way to century. And for many Elves, the pain of those days passed out of thought and mind" (Galadriel, 1x01).

"For, though Morgoth fell an age ago, some feared a new evil might arise from his shadow. So, for centuries now, these soldiers have swept across crag and crevice..." (Gil-galad, 1x01).

So, how much time passed between Adar's betrayal in Forodwaith and the raft? Thondir answers this question in the first episode:

"Surely it is lost to the ages now. Whatever happened here was long ago. [...] The mark is centuries old! Whoever left it could be long dead."

Even Charlie specified when Sauron was brought low, in his Deadline interview.

"At the beginning of the Second Age, [Sauron had] been brought low, and he lingered in Middle-earth, and his power then very slowly reemerged."

Sauron's weak and infirm state on the raft had been his lot since the beginning of the Second Age, which was millennia ago. If all he had to do was wait for his power to reload, why did we meet him at the same level to which Adar brought him centuries before? If his power grew naturally, we would have seen a much more powerful Sauron at the beginning of the season. Instead, Galadriel found him at his lowest state. And although he was at rock bottom for so long, he was REBUILT in a matter of months. How?

He was not able to rebuild his power until he met Galadriel, and he was not even fully rebuilt until Eregion. And it could not have been anyone's sheer presence that magically restored his power. He had to actively rebuild. The signs of his rebuilding lie in two scenes that I have talked about before.

But let's jump ahead to a time/story we are more familiar with.

REBUILDING IN THE THIRD AGE

Sauron was "brought low" in the Battle of the Last Alliance. The one thing he needed in order to regain his power in LOTR was the One Ring, which he sought for three thousand years.

"These Rings have a way of being found. In evil hands it might have done great evil. Worst of all, it might have fallen into the hands of the Enemy. Indeed it certainly would; for this is the One, and he is exerting all his power to find it or draw it to himself" (Gandalf, The Lord of the Rings [FOTR]: The Shadow of the Past).

Whoever had it in their possession would cherish it to the point of obsession, but "a Ring of Power looks after itself," Gandalf said. "It was not Gollum, Frodo, but the Ring itself that decided things. The Ring left him." Sauron was "calling" the Ring to him; it wanted to be found and to return to its master. Pretty much all Sauron had to do was touch it, and he would be rebuilt.

Tolkien said in one of his letters:

"While [Sauron] wore [the Ring], his power on earth was actually enhanced. But even if he did not wear it, that power existed and was in 'rapport' with himself: he was not 'diminished.' Unless some other seized it and became possessed of it. If that happened, the new possessor could (if sufficiently strong and heroic by nature) challenge Sauron, become master of all that he had learned or done since the making of the One Ring, and so overthrow him and usurp his place. This was the essential weakness he had introduced into his situation in his effort (largely unsuccessful) to enslave the Elves, and in his desire to establish a control over the minds and wills of his servants."

So, in the event that he retrieved the Ring, he would be able to take it off without losing any of his power. But someone sufficiently strong and heroic by nature could get ahold of it and challenge him.

REBUILDING IN THE SECOND AGE: Power Storage

His attempt at rebuilding his power in the Third Age (though unsuccessful) was exactly the same as his (successful) attempt in the Second Age. Most of his power was in the One Ring, and he needed it back in order to rebuild. That means that in the Second Age, his power was stored somewhere else. He needed his power back, so where was it stored?

Keep in mind what he was doing in the North. He meddled with the powers of the Unseen World, in an attempt to find a way to craft the same power that would later make up the One Ring. He could not find the "shadow of dark knowledge," no matter how much blood he spilt in its pursuit, and Adar betrayed and split him open. (I firmly do not believe Adar killed him/separated his spirit from his physical form. My reasoning for that is on its way.)

If Sauron tried to craft the same power in the North as what he later crafted in Mordor (after finding the shadow of dark knowledge), chances are high that he successfully channeled a portion of his power into whatever he was using. That thing would be MITHRIL (evident by the above depiction of a Balrog, which was shown as Adar spoke of Sauron's experiments). But Sauron was split open by Adar and incapacitated before the work was able to continue, and his plans were forestalled.

In the meantime, he did as Galadriel suspected: "[...] lying in wait, gathering strength, perfecting whatever dark art eluded him here." Mithril did not contain all of his power. There is another object which contained the other portion.

We know with certainty that Sauron had been seeking for this power when Finrod died, long before Morgoth fell.

Galadriel: "No, you died along with countless others because of him." Sauron, as Finrod: "No, Galadriel. He was seeking a power. Not to destroy Middle-earth, but to heal it, just as your fellow-Elves are seeking to do this very moment" (1x08).

In Sauron's tower, Finrod and his company were stripped of all their possessions, then thrown into the pits, where Finrod died. Is it not logical, then, that Sauron was aware of the dagger? Sauron didn't know Finrod's identity, but perceived him to be a Noldo of great might and wisdom, "deemed that in him lay the secret of their errand," and purposed to keep him alive longer than the rest. But after Finrod gave his life for Beren, what was Sauron to do?

In order to perfect an art, it must be practiced. If the art he desired to perfect was for the express purpose of enslaving the Elves, he would not leave the dagger of a great and mighty Noldo untouched. If presented with the opportunity, he would want a prototype. When Galadriel first took the dagger, in no world are we to think that the hand of Sauron never touched it, especially since we know that it was he who marked Finrod's flesh—likely with the dagger.

"But Sauron found him first, and marked his flesh with a symbol—one whose meaning even our wisest could not discern."

Long story short, Sauron channeled a portion of his power into the dagger around the time of Finrod's death, as a prototype—a tab to allow him access to the Elves. It so happens that Finrod's sister was the one to receive it, and she immediately became obsessed with finding Sauron. Later, another portion was harnessed in mithril, right before Adar betrayed him. Both circumstances are the first two test runs of channeling his power into an object. He will later succeed in harnessing most of his power in the One Ring.

REBUILDING IN THE SECOND AGE: Power Retrieval

—THE DAGGER—

The Ring was called "mine" at least 9 times in LOTR (excluding "ours" or "my own"), by Frodo, Bilbo, Gollum, and even Boromir. When Galadriel first took the dagger, she said:

"And there, in the darkness, his vow became mine."

That moment, long before Morgoth fell, and literally millennia before she was in Forodwaith, marked the beginning of her obsession, "which character after character in the show tells her is not a good thing," said Patrick McKay. "Is [Sauron] calling her to him?" — YES! ("...he is exerting all his power to find it or draw it to himself.")

------sidenote------

Yes, Galadriel cherished the dagger because it once belonged to her dead brother, but throughout the season, we saw many indications that her attachment was a bit more peculiar—feel free to look back at every scene with the dagger; particularly... - The mutiny scene (1x01) - The Boat scene (1x01) - Galadriel waking up on Elendil's ship (1x03) - "Whose dagger was it, Galadriel?" (1x05) - Galadriel's conversation with Adar (1x06) - Her conversation with Sauron on the log (1x06) - "These lands are dead," with Theo in Mordor (1x07) - The entire Vision Sequence (1x08) - True Creation Requires Sacrifice (1x08).

------

Sauron had many reasons for calling Galadriel to him, but a major reason was obvious: his power had been diminished, and the dagger contained a portion of it. He needed it back, so just like with the Ring, he exerted what power he had to draw the dagger, and its possessor, to himself (see Chapter 4). Sure enough, when Galadriel met him on the raft, he was very run-down.

...then he found the dagger.

The last we saw of him in episode 2, he was resting.

Suddenly, his whole personality, demeanor, energy, physicality—his whole BEING changed in episode 3. He was no longer weak and bitter, but spry and lighthearted. What was behind the sudden rejuvenation?

He got the dagger back.

He retrieved that portion of his power, but the portion was small—only enough for him to get by, and keep Galadriel under his thumb by returning the dagger. Remember, he was able to take the One Ring off without being diminished; he would be able to part with the dagger because the power still existed and "was in 'rapport' with himself." However, if the hands of a naturally strong and heroic person obtained it, he could be challenged. Therefore, before he let go of the dagger, he parted with Galadriel on the following terms:

"And at the very least, do try not to make any new enemies."

—MITHRIL—

Celebrimbor's ambition was pretty strong in the beginning. He desired to craft something of real power, which motivation led him to believe at least two untrustworthy tales. In the same manner that Galadriel's one-track-mindedness was augmented by means of the dagger (especially after Sauron returned it), Celebrimbor was influenced by mithril (especially after Sauron returned it).

Charlie confirmed that Sauron injured himself in order to be taken to Eregion "because he understands that the only way he can be healed is through their power and magic." After the eruption, why would that be the only way for him to get things going?

Because the mithril contained the other portion of his power, and he knew exactly where that scrap was. He touched it, regained the remainder of his power, and gladly returned the scrap to Celebrimbor, saying:

"Call it a gift."

From there, Sauron kept Celebrimbor under his thumb.

Galadriel: "Those words. 'Power over flesh.' Where did you hear them?" Celebrimbor: "Uh... I was conferring with my smiths, I think... No, I believe those are my words." Galadriel: "Was Halbrand with you?" Celebrimbor: "What's it matter? It's over" (1x08).

CONCLUSION

THAT is why those two scenes were so similar.

They were not mere representations of him transferring his power into the objects, like I believed, but rather a sign that he was taking it (of course without removing it from the object). They were signs to the audience of how he was rebuilding his power—a precursor of his attempt to rebuild in the Third Age by means of the One Ring!

Let's answer the questions we asked at the beginning.

In the Third Age (LOTR)...

Why did Sauron have to rebuild his power? - He was "brought low" in the Battle of the Last Alliance.

Why was he not able to rebuild his power naturally? - Most of his power and essence were stored elsewhere.

What was the one thing he needed in order to rebuild? - The One Ring.

In the Second Age (TROP)...

Who/what brought Sauron low in power? - Adar, towards the beginning of the Age.

Did he just wait things out, and let himself naturally rebuild? - No. He had to actively regain his power.

What was required for him to rebuild his power? - The dagger and mithril, in which his power was stored.

The dagger and mithril are inseparably connected because both contained the two required pieces of Sauron's craft. That is why the only thing that could be alloyed with mithril was the dagger. The Three Elven Rings were never touched by the hand of Sauron, but the power within the elements that made them was Sauron's. That is why the Three are subject to the One.

Below are a couple of interesting patterns.

STRENGTH

—After the Dagger—

—After Mithril—

(Notice that after the dagger, having only the smaller portion of his power, he still exerted some effort in subduing four Men (I mean, he still broke an arm in a manner that J.D. suggested was superhuman); whereas after touching the mithril, having all of his power back, he not only effortlessly stopped an Elf, but warped her mind.)

FACE

—After the Dagger— "It's not poison, if that's your concern. Not for humans, anyway."

—After Mithril— "You believed in me. You saw strength in me. You pushed me to heights that no one else could have. I will never forget that. And I'll see to it that no one else does, either."

(Those were the first suspicious smirks he gave to Galadriel after he touched the dagger and mithril.)

(And this is the last smirk we see of him, when he is officially rebuilt.)

[annoyinglandmagazine]

Silmarillion characters as Sleeping At Last songs pt 1

I seriously recommend listening to some of these songs, they’re really good and doing it with these characters in mind has actually made me cry before.

Four: Fingon. The idealism almost to the point of delusion. ‘I’ve fallen in love with a ghost’ Fingon’s need to believe that his love for Maedhros will succeed, that the person he knew is still there. His belief that things can get better and relentless optimism even despite everything he’s witnessed.

Heirloom: Celebrimbor pretty self explanatory. ‘You are so much more than your father’s son,’ come on this is Tyelpe’s song.

Eight: Caranthir. It just gives me so many Moryo feels, the armour of anger and closed off attitude to everyone around him as a response to some deep pain he hasn’t fully dealt with. And yes it’s directed towards Haleth. ‘I can't afford, no, I refuse to be rejected’

Saturn: Finrod. It’s so beautiful and full of love for the entire world. It fits him so well it actually hurts. ‘How rare and beautiful it truly is that we exist.’

Mercury: Turgon. ‘Anywhere you want me.’ ‘I’ve fallen in love with this middle ground at the cost of my soul’. I just couldn’t stop thinking about him. Finarfin fits really well too.

Sun: Gil Galad. ‘We are the dust of dust,’ and ‘let there be light’ this is a song for the survivor the person who rebuilds and is prepared to sacrifice everything for the hope of a better future.

Earth: Idril. ‘Fault lines tremble underneath my glass house,’ watching her world and everything she loves and worked so hard to protect collapsing around her and persevering despite it.

Touch: Maedhros. His trauma from Angband and gradually opening up again to Fingon and his brothers. The sheer brokenness in this song is just so fitting for him. ‘God I wanna feel again.’

Two: Elrond. He’s the healer, he grew up surrounded and raised by broken people and spent his entire life trying to fix every problem around him. ‘And maybe one day I’ll get around to fixing myself too.’ I feel like he just gets so focused on other peoples problems and helping them instead of dealing with his own very real trauma.

Three: Feanor and Curufin. The perfectionism rooted in a deep rooted insecurity and lack of self esteem. The need to be better than everyone else. ‘Maybe I’ve done enough,’ acknowledgment that their achievements are not the most important thing about them.

[apihtawtoussaint]

Okay, okay, okay. Hades 2 but Lord of the Rings?

Hear me out; Legolas in Aman going through the Halls of Mandos to meet with Gimli in the Dwarven Halls after his death for a few moments before being kicked back out for being a living Elf.

The hub would be in Aman, maybe on Ezellohar for the drama? Fingon Astaldo and Elrond would be initially Legolas' biggest supporters. Elrond just because he's like that, and Fingon has a vested interest in seeing if it can be done. Galadriel would be neutral initially, but Legolas would win her over and after a number of runs she'd arrange for armour and equipment buffs.

Daeron and Thranduil could also be around for colour commentary. Thranduil would disaprove and just be there to make it known how hard he was disaproving.

Boons would be from the Valar; Aulë would be the first to provide assistance. He'd be all for this nonsense. The others would join in once they noticed that Mandos was letting this happen, and isn't that just the darndest thing? The Doomsman must have some knowledge that he isn't sharing.

The first section would be the rooms of the main waiting area of The Halls. Where most Elves are waiting to be reimbodied. Most enemies would be Elves who had fallen in battle and haven't fullen become consicous again yet.

There'd be lots of colourful tapistries everywhere, and Vairë could serve as the merchant. You'd trad spider silk or some other weaving material with her in exchange for whatever she had.

I'm not certain who the friendly encounter would be, perhaps Gil Galad?

The boss at the end, Huan I think. We're just accepting he'd be here, magic dog. He'd be very conflicted, Celegorm is in the next section of the Halls and he wants to keep Legolas away from him. After the Luthièn business, I think Huan would disavow Celegorm but he spent centuries as his protector and friend; very difficult scenario especially for a dog. Caught between his warring instincts, Huan would guard this section and wouldn't let anyone in or out without a fight.

After beating him, the mid sectiom would be for those who will be in the Halls for a real long stint. The Fëanorian Section.

Parts would be in flames (the ships) and others frozen (the grinding ice). Enemies would be restless, angry spirts who had been murdered in some way because of the Silmarils.

The friendly encounter wouls be my guy, Maedhros, of course. Very similar path to Achilles and Patroclus in Hades.

Maybe Eöl or Maeglin as a miniboss?

At the end of the section would be Fëanor, chained up and very angry about it. He wouldn't be able to do much, but one of his C sons would also be there (Celegorm, Curufin, or Carnister) and would be compelled to fight you on his behalf.

Once Legolas was done with him, he's have to sneak around the edges of the Halls, close to the Void.

Here there be monsters. Werewolves, spiders, vampires, orcs, the whole gang's here.

The friendly encounter? You know what? Ungoliant.

And the boss to get through to get to the Halls of Mahal wouod be Durin's Bane himself. Big ol' balrog.

Then would be a shorter maze of Dwarven traps that were mostly made just to pass the time.

And then finally, biggest boss, Mandos the Doomsman (but he's not being super serious about it, Legolas still has a chance)

30 runs later, once you've finally beaten him you get to go through the door. On the other sIde? Gimli.

But Legolas can't stay long term, so he gets brought back to Aman where he can try again. Because it's a roguelite.