#lindir Rivendell
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Just some random headcanons i think that fit lindir (my opinion)
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Lindir Version below.
🪻𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓲𝓻
What’s their love language? Lindir’s primary love language is acts of service, and it’s where he truly shines. His love isn’t loud or flamboyant; instead, it’s deeply ingrained in the everyday, thoughtful actions he takes to make life easier for his significant other. He’s the type to notice the smallest details that others might overlook—like the unfinished book left on your nightstand, and without a word, he’ll quietly mark your place with a small bookmark. He might notice that your favorite tea is running low and make sure it’s replenished before you even have to ask. His love language is all about providing care and comfort in the most subtle ways. He’ll keep your space tidy, make sure you’re well-rested, or take the time to prepare your favorite meal when you’re feeling down. If there’s a piece of clothing you’ve been wearing out of necessity, he’ll quietly repair it, making sure it’s as good as new, without making a fuss. These thoughtful acts aren’t a grand declaration, but they speak volumes about his deep affection.
However, Lindir is also highly affected by words of affirmation. Though he may not always express it openly, he’s someone who craves acknowledgment, especially when it comes from his significant other. He often second-guesses his own worth, so when you take the time to compliment him—whether it’s about his appearance, his talents, or even the little things he does—it fills him with a quiet, glowing joy. A simple “thank you” for something he’s done, or a heartfelt acknowledgment of how much he means to you, will have him blushing and glowing with a quiet, contented pride. These words, even if soft and simple, are a balm to his sometimes uncertain heart, making him feel seen and appreciated in ways that nothing else can. In this way, his love language balances the quiet actions of service with the occasional, deeply cherished reassurance of affirmation.
How do they view their significant other? Lindir views his significant other as the anchor that grounds him in a world of swirling thoughts and ever-shifting emotions. They are the steady, calming force in his life, the quiet melody that helps steady his chaotic, often overactive mind. In the midst of his constant internal chatter and overthinking, his partner is the gentle reminder to pause, breathe, and take a moment to simply be. They are not just a source of comfort, but also a safe haven, offering a sense of peace that he doesn’t often find elsewhere. To Lindir, they’re more than just a lover—they’re a confidant, someone who understands his inner world and offers solace without judgment. He finds his partner endlessly fascinating, drawn to the way they bring light to even his darkest days. Their presence alone is enough to brighten his world, and he admires their ability to shine effortlessly, offering warmth and joy when he feels most lost. His significant other becomes the lens through which he sees the beauty in the ordinary, and their love inspires him in ways he never thought possible. To Lindir, they are his muse, the one who sparks creativity in his music and brings meaning to the sometimes monotonous rhythm of his daily life. In his eyes, they embody balance—his calm in the storm, and a reminder that he doesn’t always have to strive for perfection. They bring a sense of stability and grounding that he sorely needs, and in their presence, he learns to embrace imperfection. He often marvels at their ability to simply be, without the need for constant striving or achieving, and this eases some of the pressure he often places on himself. To Lindir, they are not just someone to love—they are a vital part of his world, a source of inspiration and the peace he never knew he needed.
How do they act when falling out of love? Falling out of love is a deeply painful and confusing process for Lindir, one he struggles to face and doesn’t handle easily. He tends to deny it for as long as possible, clinging to the hope that the relationship can be salvaged if he just tries harder. His first instinct is to convince himself that the issue lies with him—that if he just works harder, is more attentive, or proves himself more worthy, things will return to how they once were. During this time, he overcompensates in small, but noticeable ways—doing more acts of service than usual, over-apologizing for minor things, offering affection even when it feels mechanical and forced. He’s trying to make up for something that he can’t quite identify or admit, desperate to fix things before the truth becomes undeniable. The idea of admitting that things aren’t working terrifies him, and he would rather push through the discomfort, silently hoping things will improve.
When he can no longer avoid the truth and the reality of his emotions settles in, Lindir begins to pull away. His behavior grows more distant, quieter, and his actions become hesitant and uncertain. The warmth and care he once poured into the relationship start to fade, replaced by a quiet, heavy guilt that weighs on him. He begins to withdraw, unsure of how to navigate the growing chasm between him and his partner, but unable to continue pretending everything is fine. He would still care deeply, but the emotional strain becomes overwhelming, and he struggles to find his place in a relationship that no longer feels right. Even if the relationship eventually ends, Lindir carries the memories of his partner with a quiet tenderness. The love he once felt doesn’t easily fade, and even though the relationship has ended, the echo of it lingers in his heart. He would still wish his partner happiness, hoping they find the peace and fulfillment that he couldn’t provide. However, he would also carry a bittersweet sadness with him, the ghost of what once was, and the weight of the love he can no longer give. The memories would haunt him, tenderly and quietly, as he tries to move on, but never forget the person who once meant everything to him.
Will they do anything for their s/o? Lindir is profoundly selfless when it comes to his significant other, willing to go to great lengths to ensure their happiness, comfort, and well-being. His love for them is expressed through constant acts of service, whether it’s staying up late to repair something that matters to them or simply ensuring their favorite things are always within reach. He’ll sacrifice his time, energy, and personal comfort without hesitation, sometimes pushing himself to the point of exhaustion, all in the name of making sure they feel loved and valued. He might forgo his own needs, prioritizing their happiness and peace, quietly and without complaint. For Lindir, seeing them content is often enough to sustain him, even if it means he bears the burden of their burdens silently.
That being said, his selflessness isn’t blind, and he is not easily manipulated. If someone tries to sway him with insincere tears, empty promises, or unreasonable demands, he won’t hesitate to set clear boundaries. His kindness is genuine, but it’s also grounded in a strong sense of fairness and respect. He understands that love doesn’t mean sacrificing one’s sense of self, and if his partner asks something of him that conflicts with his values, integrity, or moral compass, he will stand firm, no matter the emotional cost. Lindir’s loyalty and devotion are unwavering, but they are not at the expense of his principles. His ability to say “no” when necessary is something he does with kindness, though he may still feel the sting of disappointment or regret when a compromise is out of reach. In relationships, Lindir seeks balance, not martyrdom. He’ll give freely of himself, but only in a way that respects both his needs and his partner’s, and if a request ever feels unjust or unreasonable, he won’t compromise his sense of what’s right—even for love.
How do they kiss? Lindir's kisses are a reflection of his deep, tender affection-gentle, yet imbued with a quiet intensity. At first, his lips meet yours with a tentative softness, as if he's seeking permission, testing the waters. His kisses are light, almost like the flutter of a butterfly's wings, careful and respectful of your boundaries. Each touch feels like a delicate note in a symphony, slow and intentional. He's attuned to every shift in your response, letting his movements mirror your comfort, as though he's waiting for you to invite him deeper into the connection. As his confidence grows, his kisses become a little bolder, yet still full of reverence. His lips linger with more certainty, pressing gently but firmly against yours, as if to convey everything he feels in that moment-admiration, affection, and a quiet devotion. He holds you close, one hand always finding yours and pressing it gently to his chest, allowing you to feel the steady beat of his heart as though it's in sync with yours. His other hand might rest lightly at the small of your back, subtly pulling you closer as he kisses you, creating a cocoon of intimacy and warmth around you both. Lindir has a way of making each kiss feel like it's just the two of you in the world. He often seeks out quiet corners or hidden spaces where you can be alone together, away from the noise of the outside world. As you grow more familiar with his touch, you can feel his growing confidence-his kisses, once shy and hesitant, now communicate everything he's unable to say with words. Each kiss is an unspoken promise, a quiet testament to his love and devotion, pouring his heart into each lingering connection.
What’s their favorite part of their s/o? Lindir is deeply enchanted by his significant other’s hands. Whether they are strong and calloused from hard work or soft and delicate from gentleness, he finds them endlessly fascinating and beautiful. He loves the way they move—each gesture carrying a language of its own, whether they are crafting something with care, offering comfort to those in need, or simply resting beside him in quiet peace. There is a grace to the way they operate, a quiet strength he admires with every glance. For Lindir, holding your hand is a sacred moment, one of his favorite things to do. The warmth and closeness it brings make him feel grounded, as though everything in the world aligns when your hands are entwined. He often traces delicate, absentminded patterns along your skin with his fingertips, as if mapping the rhythm of your soul in each touch. Your hands symbolize everything Lindir admires about you. They represent your strength and resilience, your creativity and capability, as well as the tender way you navigate the world. To him, each touch, each gesture, carries a depth of emotion and meaning. He treasures the way your hands can comfort him on his darkest days, how they show the love and care he feels even in the smallest of actions. To Lindir, your hands are a living testament to who you are—a beautiful blend of power, grace, and tenderness that makes him fall in love with you all over again.
Are they protective? Lindir’s protectiveness is subtle but runs deep, rooted in an unwavering desire to keep his significant other safe and cared for. He isn’t one for grand gestures or loud declarations of loyalty, but his vigilance is constant, quiet, and unwavering. He observes closely, always aware of the smallest shifts in their world—whether it’s the careless remarks from others or potential dangers lurking in the background that they might not yet see. He can sense when something is off, and he’ll quietly adjust his actions or position to shield them from harm without drawing attention to himself. If the need arises, Lindir would place himself in harm’s way without hesitation, but he does so with a calm, measured resolve rather than rushing in with brash bravado. He doesn’t seek glory or recognition for his sacrifices; his priority is always your safety, and he trusts that his quiet presence is enough to protect you. If his significant other is ever hurt, it affects him profoundly. He takes it personally, even if there was nothing he could have done. He will blame himself, quietly chiding himself for not being able to prevent the injury or distress, even when it’s unrealistic or unfounded. His protective nature extends beyond the physical—it includes shielding you emotionally, offering comfort when you need it, and trying to provide a sense of security when the world feels uncertain. To Lindir, protecting you is not a duty but an instinct, a quiet promise he keeps within his heart.
How far will they go to take care of their sick s/o?When you’re sick, Lindir becomes the embodiment of unwavering care and devotion. His natural instinct to nurture takes over completely, and he’ll go to great lengths to ensure you’re as comfortable and cared for as possible. He’ll prepare calming herbal teas, carefully blending the right ingredients to ease your symptoms, and make nourishing broths that are gentle on your stomach but packed with healing properties. The warmth of your blankets will always be just right, perfectly tucked in to keep you cozy, as he watches over you with quiet concern. Lindir’s tenderness knows no bounds. He’ll sit by your side for hours, his presence a constant source of reassurance. If you’re too weak to speak, he’ll softly read to you—his voice a soothing melody, carrying words of poetry or stories that calm your mind. If sleep eludes you, he’ll gently sing to you, the sound of his voice filling the room and slowly lulling you into peaceful rest. Even if you protest or try to dismiss his help, Lindir is persistent but never forceful, gently reminding you that rest is the most important thing for healing. His voice will be soft but insistent, always encouraging you to take it easy and let him care for you.
He’s tireless in his efforts, willing to stay up all night to monitor your condition, checking your fever, bringing you water, or adjusting the blankets whenever needed. Even if you don’t ask, he’ll sense what you need before you do, anticipating your discomfort and doing his best to ease it. When you start feeling better, he’ll be just as watchful, hovering ever so slightly to ensure you don’t overexert yourself. He’ll insist that you continue resting, and will take on any responsibilities you might have, not allowing you to push yourself too quickly back into your routine. To Lindir, your well-being is of the utmost importance, and he would go to any length to make sure you recover fully and are well taken care of, without ever making you feel like a burden. His care is both selfless and gentle, an expression of his deep affection and commitment to you.
How do they cheer their s/o up when they’re down? Lindir’s way of cheering up his partner is deeply thoughtful and always attuned to your individual needs. He’s not one to force a cheer or demand a smile, understanding that some moments of sadness require quiet patience. Instead, he takes note of the small things that make you feel cared for and loved. If you’re feeling low, you might find your favorite treat waiting for you, or a soft, comforting tune drifting from his harp, played just for you. His music is never loud or overwhelming; instead, it’s a soothing melody that wraps around you like a warm blanket, gently lifting your spirits without asking for anything in return. Lindir excels at small, meaningful gestures that speak volumes. You might wake to find a delicate flower resting on your pillow, its fragrance a reminder of his affection. Or, a handwritten note, simply but thoughtfully expressing his love, encouragement, or an inside joke that reminds you of better times. If you’re still feeling down, he’ll never push you to speak before you’re ready, but he may hum a melody you cherish, or softly sing a song that has meaning for both of you. His presence alone is comforting, a quiet anchor that you can always rely on.
When you’re ready to talk, Lindir listens with undivided attention, never judging, only offering gentle words of reassurance. He doesn’t offer solutions unless you ask, instead letting you express yourself fully, creating a safe space for you to share whatever is on your mind. If you don’t feel like talking, he won’t press; he’ll simply stay by your side, offering silent companionship that says, I’m here, and you’re not alone. He understands the power of a comforting presence, and will sit with you in companionable silence, giving you time to collect your thoughts and find your way back to yourself. His efforts are always grounded in patience and a deep, unwavering commitment to your well-being. To Lindir, the most important thing is that you feel understood and supported in your time of need.
How do they react when they find out their s/o is dead? The loss of his significant other would destroy Lindir, plunging him into an overwhelming silence. Grief would consume him so entirely that he would retreat from the world, pulling away from everyone who cares about him. He’d become a shadow of himself, unable or unwilling to speak of the loss. Music, once his source of joy and self-expression, would transform into an unrecognizable expression of sorrow. His melodies would become haunting and mournful, every note filled with the weight of his heartache. His music would carry the echo of his sadness, but it would be so raw and fragile, like he’s trying to communicate all his unspeakable pain through every chord. Lindir would be unable to part with the smallest reminders of his partner. He would keep their belongings as they were, unable to bring himself to touch their things, as though doing so would erase their presence. He would revisit the places that held their shared memories—their favorite spots for walks, their quiet corners, places where they laughed and talked late into the night. Those places would become sacred to him, though they would no longer hold the warmth they once did. In his solitude, he might find comfort in these small rituals, though each visit would deepen the pain.
As time goes on, Lindir may try to keep their memory alive in tangible ways, though it would never be enough to fill the void they left behind. He might plant a tree in their honor, something that could continue to grow, a living testament to their life. Alternatively, he could compose a song in their name, pouring every ounce of love and loss into the notes. These acts would help him channel his grief, but the ache of their absence would never fully fade. Even as the years pass, Lindir would carry the weight of their absence in his heart. Though his life would continue, he would remain forever changed, a part of him always holding on to the love and the deep connection they shared. He would never forget, and the memory of them would be both his greatest comfort and his greatest sorrow.
What makes them worry about their s/o the most?Lindir’s worries for his significant other stem from his deep care for their well-being, and they are often triggered by the smallest signs that they are struggling. He is especially concerned when his partner pushes themselves too hard, whether it’s overworking, neglecting their own needs, or putting others before themselves. He can always tell when they’re running on empty, noticing the subtle signs—tired eyes, tension in their shoulders, or a lack of energy—and he can’t help but feel a gnawing anxiety. He’ll quietly insist that they take time to rest, gently encouraging them to prioritize their health, even if it means stepping away from responsibilities for a while. His nurturing instincts are fierce, and he’d rather sacrifice his own peace than watch them suffer in silence. Beyond that, Lindir’s mind often races with the ��what ifs,” particularly when he’s not by their side. He worries about all the dangers beyond his control—unexpected accidents, illnesses, or any threat that could harm them. His overactive mind can spiral, and he’ll spend hours thinking of all the worst-case scenarios, his heart heavy with concern. He tries not to show it, though, not wanting to burden them with his anxieties. Still, when they’re out of his sight, a part of him is always alert, checking the distance between them, hoping they are safe.
How often do they stare lovingly at their s/o? Lindir finds himself staring lovingly at his significant other far more often than he realizes. He’s captivated by the little things that make them who they are—how their eyes light up when they talk about something they’re passionate about, the way their smile seems to brighten the entire room, or the quiet focus they have when immersed in a task. Every small movement feels meaningful to him, and he can’t help but watch in awe. His gaze is often soft, filled with admiration and tenderness, though he tries to remain subtle. He’ll steal glances when he thinks you’re not looking—his eyes following you as you move about the room, taking in the gentle curve of your lips when you concentrate, or the way your hands gesture when you speak. If you ever catch him in the act, he’ll blush deeply, his heart racing with the realization that he’s been caught adoring you. His usual calm and composed nature slips away, and he’ll quickly look away, his cheeks turning a soft pink as he becomes embarrassed by how openly he wears his feelings. But even in these moments, there’s a quiet joy in his heart. He knows he’s found someone truly special, and it shows in the way his eyes always seek out your presence.
How do they impress their s/o? Lindir impresses his partner through his deep, quiet thoughtfulness and his subtle yet profound talents. He doesn’t believe in grand, ostentatious gestures—he prefers to express his love in ways that reflect his genuine feelings and attention to detail. One of his favorite ways to impress his partner is through music, crafting a piece specifically for them. Each note he writes is imbued with his emotions, the melody flowing with the affection and admiration he has for them. He may even perform it for them in a quiet, intimate moment, his eyes watching their reaction with a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability.
In addition to music, Lindir may create something small but deeply meaningful—like a handcrafted trinket, a scarf woven with care, or a carefully written letter that captures his thoughts and love for them. He’s attuned to their preferences, noticing the little things they might not even realize they need. His acts of service are never random; they are always carefully planned and designed to bring comfort or joy in exactly the way his partner will appreciate. He might fix a broken heirloom, restore a cherished book, or organize their space in a way that feels like a gentle gesture of care. Despite his humble nature, Lindir always hopes his partner will notice the time and energy he puts into these actions. For him, it’s not about recognition but about showing how deeply he cherishes them through the little things he does. His love is expressed through quiet gestures, hoping that in these small but meaningful moments, they can see how much they truly mean to him.
Extra bonus (these parts just for fun, love writing them 😈🙈)
♫ Resting-Scared Face as Lindir’s resting expression always seems fraught with worry, like someone just told him the library might flood or a shipment of rare herbs has gone missing. He isn’t actually scared, but his overactive imagination runs through disaster scenarios at lightning speed. He’s tried practicing a more serene look in the mirror, but as soon as his mind drifts back to his endless responsibilities, the concerned face returns. Visitors to Rivendell sometimes ask, “Is everything alright?” to which Lindir always replies with a polite but hurried, “Of course!” (even if it isn’t).
♫ Easily Spooked For someone who spends so much time worrying, Lindir is surprisingly easy to scare. A sudden noise or an unexpected tap on the shoulder will make him jump and let out an embarrassing yelp. Once, someone dropped a book behind him, and he was so startled that he tripped over his own feet and landed in a pile of scrolls.
♫ A Terrible Liar Despite his quick wit, Lindir cannot lie to save his life. The moment he attempts to fabricate something, his face betrays him—his voice rises an octave, his hands fidget, and his sentences grow unnecessarily elaborate. Even when telling harmless fibs, like trying to keep a surprise dinner secret, his behavior becomes so obviously suspicious that others usually figure it out immediately. This makes him utterly dependable when honesty is required, as he literally cannot hide the truth.
♫ Meticulous but Forgetful While Lindir is exceptional at organizing events and keeping records, he’s surprisingly forgetful about his personal belongings. He’ll misplace his quill, set down his harp and walk away, or leave his favorite cloak draped over a chair in the library. It’s not uncommon for others to return his items to him with a fond, “You left this behind… again.” Lindir always responds with an embarrassed smile and a quiet, “Thank you.”
♫ Perpetually Cold Hands No one knows why, but Lindir’s hands are always cold, even in the warmest seasons. He’s grown self-conscious about it over the years and avoids unnecessary physical contact for fear of startling others. Still, on particularly chilly days, he’ll warm his hands on the sides of a teacup before holding a pen. A few trusted friends have given him soft woolen gloves as gifts, which he cherishes but rarely wears because he finds them impractical.
♫ Too Many Hobbies, Not Enough Time as Lindir has a long list of hobbies he wants to master—calligraphy, gardening, embroidery, and flute-playing, to name a few. He throws himself wholeheartedly into each new craft but quickly finds himself overwhelmed by all the unfinished projects. His desk is perpetually cluttered with half-written poems, a half-knitted scarf, and several small potted herbs he meant to plant but forgot about (rip plant still their 🥹).
♫ Overthinks Simple Gestures If someone hands Lindir a gift, he’ll spend hours analyzing its meaning. “Why this specific flower? Does it symbolize something? Should I reciprocate with something similar? Or is it meant to convey something deeper?” By the time he’s worked himself into a frenzy, the person has long since forgotten they gave him anything.
♫ Accidentally Intimidating Despite his polite and mild-mannered demeanor, Lindir can sometimes come across as terrifying when he’s deep in thought. He has a way of staring at people as though he’s evaluating every decision they’ve ever made—but in reality, he’s probably just wondering if he remembered to put his quill back on his desk.
♫ Too Polite to Leave a Conversation If someone corners Lindir with a long-winded story, he’ll stand there nodding politely for far too long, even if he has urgent tasks to attend to. He’s mastered the art of looking interested while internally panicking, trying to figure out how to escape. Once, he stood in the same spot for an hour because he didn’t want to interrupt someone’s monologue about frogs (you decide that as it can be anything really. I’m going with frogs 🤣).
♫ The Feather Quill Obsession as Lindir insists on using only the finest quills for his work and has a small collection of “lucky” feathers (very pretty ones and bright coloured, so he know if you got his feathered quill). If someone borrows one without asking, he’ll smile tightly and say, “Of course,” but he’ll mentally add them to his list of people who can never be trusted again. (Just below perfect example lindir 🤣 silent observer and hold grudge.)
♫ Flustered by Compliments as Lindir is so unaccustomed to receiving compliments that he struggles to handle them gracefully that he turns an alarming shade of pink the moment one is directed at him. If someone praises his singing or harp-playing, his hands fidget with the hem of his sleeve as he stammers out something incoherent, his voice soft and rushed. By the time the compliment has registered, he’s already desperately searching for a way out, blurting, “Ah, yes, thank you… Have you noticed how well the lilacs are blooming this season?” Compliments about his appearance leave him even more hopelessly flustered; he’ll avoid eye contact entirely, his blush spreading to the tips of his ears as he mumbles, “Oh, that’s… very kind of you. Speaking of kindness, I think the gardeners planted new roses—have you seen them?”
♫ Extremely Distrustful of Mushrooms, Lindir has a deeply irrational suspicion of mushrooms. He doesn’t trust their texture, their appearance, or the fact that they grow in the dark. He once spent twenty minutes poking one with a stick during a forest walk before deciding it was “too suspicious” to eat. (I can see it. pokey pokey than whack like “bad squish off finding Nemo” 🤣)
#lindir#lindir simps#lindir supremacy#lindir Rivendell#lindir headcanons#lindir headcanon#lord of the rings#the hobbit#lotr elves#lindir x reader#lindir x you
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He wants to court you
Summary: Imagine Lindir telling you that he loves you and that he would like to court you.
Lindir X Male Reader
Word count: 1007
Warnings: no one
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You are an excellent elven warrior and healer. After your mother died, you went in search of the place she always told you about.
Rivendell.
Your mother was right, the place is beautiful and Lord Elrond welcomed you with open arms.
Because you were always teased for your knowledge and love of books in your hometown, nothing held you there after your mother's death.
Here in Buchtal they accept you as you are. Quiet, observant, and happy to keep to yourself, seems to be no fault of the elves here.
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I head towards the library to read a new book about stars. When I get there, the supervisor greets me and I nod in response. Then I walk to the shelf where I think my next book is. Gently, I let my fingers glide over the books and come to a stop at the appropriate book. Happily I pull it out and walk with it to my chamber.
Out of sheer curiosity, I don't pay attention to my surroundings and I'm already flipping through the book. As I turn the corner, I bump into something and drop the book.
Confused, I look around and see the book being held out to me.
"Mellon, you didn't hurt yourself, did you?" asks Lindir.
"No, I didn't," I whisper, taking the book with a slight smile.
"Thank you."
Lindir gives me another checking look before nodding in understanding.
"Where are you off to in such a hurry?"
"To my chamber, so I can read the book."
"Then be careful." At that, he clears a path for me and lets me through.
I give him a quick nod before continuing on my way.
"Y/N, do you want to take a walk with me in the garden tonight, we can talk about your new knowledge if you like?"
Surprised at the offer, I quickly turned back to Lindir.
"Are you sure you want to go for a walk with me there?"
"Of course y/n, I would be happy if we could meet at the fountains tonight."
"Okay, yeah sure I'd love to, I'll see you tonight then," I stammer, smiling slightly.
"I'm looking forward to it," I added quickly before taking my leave for my chamber.
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When I see from my balcony that it is slowly getting dark outside. I decided that it's time to meet with Lindir. Therefore I put the book on the desk and went to the fountain.
When I get there, Lindir is already standing there. He looks relaxed as he watches the water from the fountain.
As I approach him, he turns to me and smiles.
"I hope you haven't been waiting for me long, Lindir?"
"No, I've only been here a few moments too, Tingilya (twinkling star)."
"Shall we?"
I nod to him. And together we stroll through the garden.
I tell him what I've read in the book and he listens intently, asking great questions about it.
Which fills my heart with the feelings of happiness.
Lindir leads us to an isolated spot with a sparkling little pond.
I am surprised when I see that there are some snacks and two glasses to drink from and I glance over at Lindir. He takes my hand encouragingly and pulls me to the blanket.
Then we both sit down.
"I hope this is okay and I didn't go too far?" Unsure, Lindir looks at me.
Smiling, I look at him "It's fine, don't worry, I like it Lindir"
"Hmm, but is there a reason why you made so much effort, a simple walk had made me happy too"
"Yes, y/n I wanted to talk to you "
"I enjoy listening to you Lindir, so feel free to tell me whatever is on your mind".
"I... I know this is probably unexpected, especially since we're both men, but I love you, as much as you love the stars and the world of books, my heart has only been beating for you since you came here. I was afraid to tell you about it, but in the last few weeks I've been trying to show you with little gestures that I'm interested in you. This may sound completely crazy now. But I love seeing you close your eyes and hold your face to the wind when we are outside and you disappear into the world of books. It's a beautiful sight and in that moment I feel that I really love you. I love how your smile lights up the world when you feel the magic of adventure. You have shown me that there are so many beautiful and incredible things in this world and I have also been fascinated by your adventures as a warrior, your travels have not always been too dangerous and I can't wait to explore more of your thoughts and the world with you!
Travel
You have taken me on so many incredible journeys and allowed me to experience so many wonderful things and even though we never left Rivendell once. I crave your closeness, I like it when you keep me company while I do my chores for Lord Elrond, the silence between us is never uncomfortable.
So I wanted to tell you that I love you and if you could imagine, well, if we could both courting or if I could court you? "
"Courting me? Are you sure you want to court me, an elven knight who doesn't fit in his homeland?"
Doubting, I look into his eyes, searching for the truth.
Gently, Lindir grabs my hands and pulls me a little closer to him. His hand gently slides to my face, embracing it. His thumb gently runs over my cheek. Before his eyes catch mine.
My breath hitches in my throat when i see how much Lindir's eyes sparkle as he looks at me.
"I'm very sure y/n, if you feel something for me too, will you allow me to court you?"
I nod and lean against his hand.
"I would love to, Lindir. I love you too."
#Lindir x male reader#lotr#lindir#fluff fic#short story#lindir imagine#lindir rivendell#oneshot#lord of the rings
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See one of my favorite Rivendell headcanons is that even though it's a wonderful, peaceful sanctuary, pretty much everyone there could be incredibly dangerous if they wanted to be. Like, let's think about who lives in that valley.
Elrond Peredhel, resident healer and eldritch crime against nature, self-explanatory
Glorfindel, slayer of balrogs, self-explanatory
Erestor, probably Feanorian, definitely dangerous
Old Feanorian diehards, all of whom are probably looking for an excuse to commit morally justified violence
Old Gondolindrim/Iathrim, who, despite what they might tell you, are exactly as dangerous as the Feanorians
Garthaglir the Library Orc, who absolutely remembers how to use the giant battleaxe he keeps behind his desk
A strange, shadowy figure roaming the valley who I'm *sure* isn't Maglor Feanorian, but who is nonetheless a terrifying singer
Elladan and Elrohir, who have spent the last several centuries becoming nightmare fuel for Sauron's forces
Arwen, eldritch, bites
Bilbo Baggins, not to be underestimated, can defeat a grown man with nothing more than his scathingly polite commentary
Dunedain visitors, vaguely feral, highly trained
Aragorn, very feral, highly trained
Lindir, not actually dangerous, but if you upset him you are going to have problems with everyone else on this list
I actually really like the idea that a lot of the people who live in Rivendell are inherently kind of dangerous, because it means that they're actively choosing peace and kindness for themselves and I love that.
#silmarillion#silm headcanons#rivendell#elrond#elrond peredhel#glorfindel#erestor#maglor#elladan#elrohir#arwen undomiel#bilbo baggins#aragorn#lindir#garthaglir#eldritch peredhel#rivendell headcanons my beloved#happy peaceful place full of incredibly scary people
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imladris lads :D it started off as a few doodles of gildor bc of a great prompt i received from an anon a few weeks ago, and then spiralled into something else entirely bc i havent really taken the time to explore much of anything imladris-related? i really like the lindir-is-maglor concept so heres my take on how it couldve happened haha
as always, credit to Cartoon Network for the sparkly pink BG
thanks so much for the ask!! here's my take on gildor :DD i really like the way anon asked the question and it was what inspired me to draw finrod in the mix too strangely enough?? the vibes are similar 🤭
#silmarillion#silm#maglor#elrond#glorfindel#erestor#gildor inglorion#i looove the scrapped idea of gildor being finrods son but alas.... the retcon..... 'twas such a perfect setup too :'(((#im not sure what the statistics of elf adoption are but from what ive seen its not too common? i like to think it did happen however#so i like to imagine finrod adopted a young orphaned gildor and raised him as his own hehe#opens up a lot of doors for familial doubts esp after finrod reembodies and presumably has his own kids with amarie?#prob smthn along the lines of gildor expecting to be set aside bc hes not his blood son or whatever when he arrives in valinor...#anyways reembodied glorfindel's hair keeps changing lengths bc.... yeah HAHAHA#arwen has many many uncles !!!#lindir#celebrian#elladan#elrohir#arwen undomiel#imladris#rivendell#the silmarillion#elves#silm art#tolkien#rin replies#tolkien fanart#sakasakart#silmarillion comic#finrod
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Lindir and a modern human who thought his name was Lindor like the chocolate for awhile until someone had to tell her she was saying his name wrong 😂
Let's put our listening ears on
word count: 1,035
The morning sun spilled golden light across Rivendell, painting the dew-kissed leaves in shimmering hues. Birds trilled from the treetops, and the cool, sweet air carried with it the fragrance of blossoming wildflowers. You found yourself wandering the grand halls of Elrond’s haven once more, marveling at the beauty that felt as surreal as a dream.
You were adjusting well, or so you liked to believe. Even if waking up in Middle-earth had initially been a shock, Rivendell’s serene beauty and the Elves’ gentle, albeit occasionally amused, company had helped you settle in. It didn’t hurt that Lindir, one of the more graceful and composed Elves, often accompanied you on your walks.
Today was no different. You found Lindir waiting by one of the many bridges that arched over Rivendell’s rivers, his silver hair catching the light, and his expression, as always, a careful mask of tranquility. You greeted him with a wave and an enthusiastic grin.
“Good morning, Lindor!” you called out cheerfully.
His serene expression twitched ever so slightly, but his smile remained. “Good morning to you as well,” he replied, his voice smooth as the river’s song.
The name—Lindor—had become something of a pet nickname. You knew it was a slight mispronunciation of his actual name, but somehow, it had stuck, and Lindir never corrected you. You didn’t think too deeply about it, assuming it was either not important enough to mention or perhaps he found it endearing. Besides, in a place so removed from your world, it was nice to have something familiar, even if it was just a name that reminded you of chocolates.
Together, you wandered down a path that led to a sun-dappled grove, your conversation meandering as effortlessly as the river beside you. Lindir asked questions about your world, his curiosity polite but genuine. You had spoken of cities and cars, of libraries full of books and kitchens full of foods the Elves had never imagined, but somehow, chocolate had yet to come up.
“You know,” you said, looking up at him, “it’s funny how you Elves don’t seem to get tired. If I didn’t have chocolate in my world, I don’t think I’d have survived college.”
Lindir’s brow furrowed slightly. “Chocolate?” he repeated, testing the word on his tongue. “What is that?”
You blinked. “Wait, really? You don’t have chocolate?”
Before Lindir could respond, another Elf, taller and with a more severe demeanor, approached. It was Erestor, one of Elrond’s advisors and librarian. He paused, eyeing you both with his typical scrutinizing expression, which always made you feel slightly like a wayward child.
“Ah, My lady, Master Lindir,” Erestor greeted, though his gaze lingered on you. “Forgive me, but I have overheard something quite peculiar these past weeks.”
You tilted your head, curiosity piqued. “Oh? What’s that?”
Erestor’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you felt the weight of an Elven stare that seemed capable of seeing straight through you. “The name by which you address Master Lindir,” he said, his voice precise, “is incorrect. It is not ‘Lindor,’ but Lindir.”
Your cheeks flushed with sudden embarrassment. “Oh no,” you said, your hands flying up to cover your mouth. “I’m so sorry! Why didn’t you say anything, Lindir?”
Lindir, who looked both amused and faintly embarrassed, shook his head lightly. “I did not wish to embarrass you,” he admitted, a gentle smile gracing his lips. “Besides, you seemed to find some joy in calling me by that name. I did not think it harmful.”
Erestor, however, looked as though he was trying very hard not to roll his eyes. “And what, pray tell, is this Lindor you have been referring to?”
You couldn’t help but giggle, though you tried to stifle it. “Well, it’s a type of chocolate in my world. A really fancy, melt-in-your-mouth kind of chocolate. The best, really.”
Lindir and Erestor exchanged a look, one of deep Elven confusion, and it only made your laughter harder to contain.
“Chocolate,” Lindir mused, as if tasting the word again might give him insight. “You must explain this… delicacy.”
“Oh, absolutely,” you said, excitement bubbling up at the prospect. “Chocolate is, like, this heavenly, creamy food made from cacao beans, and you can make it into all kinds of things—bars, drinks, desserts. And Lindor chocolates are these little round truffles with a silky filling that just melts when you eat it.”
The Elves stared at you, their expressions frozen somewhere between polite interest and utter incomprehension. Finally, Erestor shook his head, his long hair swaying with the movement. “Your world sounds increasingly bizarre, My Lady,” he declared.
You grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, I guess it is. But seriously, I owe you an apology, Lindir. I’ll get your name right from now on.”
Lindir’s eyes softened, and he placed a hand on your shoulder. “No harm done,” he said gently. “If it is any consolation, the way you say it has a certain charm. But I am pleased to know the story behind this… Lindor chocolate.”
You couldn’t help but smile up at him. “Thanks for being so understanding.”
Erestor looked between the two of you, sighed as though resigning himself to the strangeness that came with having a human guest, and excused himself, muttering something about the peculiarity of mortals. You and Lindir watched him go, and once he was out of earshot, you both burst into laughter.
“He must think I’m hopeless,” you said, wiping a tear of laughter from your eye.
Lindir’s laughter faded into a fond smile. “I think he finds you… perplexing, but in a way that makes this world feel a bit more lively,” he said. “As do I.”
You felt warmth bloom in your chest, and for a moment, the beauty of Rivendell seemed brighter, more vibrant. “Thank you,” you said, feeling a bit shy. “I guess I’ll have to introduce chocolate to Middle-earth one day, won’t I?”
Lindir’s eyes lit up with a playful glint. “I look forward to it,” he replied, “if only to finally understand what could be worthy of my accidental namesake.”
And with that, you continued your walk together, the morning light gilding the leaves, and a new promise of sweet surprises hanging in the air between you.
#the hobbit#lord of the rings#lotr imagine#the hobbit headcanon#lotr x reader#lotr elves#the hobbit x reader#the hobbit headcanons#lotr headcanons#the lord of the rings#lindir x reader#lindir#rivendell#imladris#erestor#lindor
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Festival of the Trees in Rivendell (very much outdated) vs Festival of We Got Another Wine Shipment in Mirkwood (invented three hours ago)
somewhat inspired by this post by @elvinye
#silm#silmarillion#elrond#thranduil#the gems on elronds outfit are inherited from the massive treasury finrod and turgon lugged across the Ice#the glass fruit of laurelin/flower of telperion lantern was brought back by glorfindel when he was reembodied#and the harp is fingon's#rivendell has All the Holidays including the ones that. don't really make sense anymore#in name of preserving history#so they still celebrate the Awakening despite not having access to cuivienen on account of it being somewhere past mordor#they celebrate the festival of hte trees with the Tree Lantern and the sun & moon#someone also has an idea for the festival of the valar despite not being able to go to taniquetil to pray to the valar#so instead lindir makes elrond stand on a hill and declares him a proxy of the valar by virtue of ainur blood#despite his protests that it doesn't work like that
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The braincell of Imladris
Erestor: I swear, I'm the only one here with a braincell.
Glorfindel, Lindir, Celebrian, and Figwit: ALL HAIL the keeper of the sacred braincell!
Elrond: You know, that the brain has more then one cell, right?
#lotr#silmarillion#silmarillion memes#incorrect silmarillion quotes#incorrect lotr quotes#lotr memes#erestor#glorfindel#lindir#celebrian#figwit#elrond#imladris#rivendell
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Elves reacting to dwarves throwing food
I can't be the first one to gif this, right? But I couldn't find it on a quick search. So have some elves reacting to dwarves being dwarves...
#kili was totally aiming for lindir with that last one#Lindir's face just cracks me up every time lol#also how Elrond is chill about the first one#but gets more wtf-like on the next#the hobbit#elves#lindir#elrond#gandalf#food fight#rivendell#dinner#an unexpected journey#peter jackson#tolkien#rds#figwit
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somewhere in Rivendell in the third age
Daeron: Hang on, We were both minstrels in first age Beleriand, how come I've never heard of you?
Lindir: You were probably performing in Doriath, I was out on the Eastern Marches
Daeron: fucking Fëanorians! We hated you guys
Lindir: We hated ourselves
#erestor: im gonna tell him#elrond: dont you dare#incorrect silmarillion quotes#silmarillion#tolkien#source: tgwdlm#imladris#rivendell#maglor#lindir#daeron
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Sleeping In
No particular relationship. But you could argue Platonic Elrond x reader
Summary: returning from a long journey. you snooze in bed until 4pm and then are wired. you explore rivendell at night
Warnings: none
You didn't know what time it was. All you were aware of was the weight of your eyelids and the thick coat of grime covering your skin. Your return to Rivendell had been expected, so when you approached the steps, you were met with some elves that escorted you to your room.
You would have fallen asleep in the bath if you weren't greeted with a knock on your bathroom door. They simply were letting you know that there were fresh clothes laid out on your bedside. You thanked them and took their disturbance as a sign to rise from the lukewarm water.
The elves had taken the liberty of closing all of your curtains except one. It darkened the room significantly. Perfect conditions for a long rest.
The clothing you were given had to be made of the finest material you had ever felt. Maybe the elves have found how to weave clouds into their garments. you thought. The bed was even better. After sleeping on a bedroll on the ground for weeks, a true puffy bed felt like you had truly drifted away. You were asleep quickly.
~
When your eyes opened, the first thing you noticed was the strange position you were in. Your limbs were strewn all over the place. But even worse, one of the lovely pillows managed to get pushed off the bed! How badly were you in need of this?
The next thing you noticed was that the sun that was bright in the one open set of curtains was waning. Its pink and orange hues were filtering throughout the room. You rubbed any last remains of sleep out of your eyes and sat up. A hand reached up and felt the mess your hair had become. You did your best to arrange it better.
Immediately upon standing up, you stretched and felt your whole body pop into place. You didn't know what time it was or anything really. But you were not concerned with that at the moment. Your old outfit that you wore on your journey had been traded out for some cleaner but still simple clothes. You know you didn't see them sitting in the chair by your bed before you went to sleep. I wonder what poor elf had to witness my aggressive sleeping pattern?
You got changed, and the hunger you had been ignoring caught up to you. Rivendell at night was always a stark difference to how it was in the day. The candlelight was beautiful, and the moonlight was even better, but still, different. You could only hope you would remember your way around.
The halls were cooler in the later hours. A gentle breeze flowed throughout the cavernous hallways. Thankfully, the elves gifted you an extra layer for this. And in this moment, you held it even closer to your body.
Elves were still strolling the halls, unaffected by the late hour, but were curious about you. What is a human doing awake at this hour? As you paced further through Imraldis, you spotted a beautiful balcony. The stars were seen to form in a perfect view, and it entranced you.
"It is good to see you well rested, friend," said the kind voice of Lord Elrond. You turned to him quickly, a bit startled by his presence. His expression took a slightly concerned turn, "Apologies for my intrusion. But I would like to hear of your heroic tales from your journey."
"Oh," you sighed in relief, "I would be glad to tell you everything. However..." You thought of the best way to ask for a moment, "could we do it over a meal? At least for me, I unfortunately missed dinner. I expected the elves to awaken me."
He smiled, "Of course. I also was the one who made the order not to disturb you. After hearing how exhausted you looked returning here, I wanted you to rest for as long as needed."
Elrond whispered to Lindir to have a meal arranged for you and a nice glass of mead for himself arranged in the dining hall. He then walked with you to a nearby table where your meal would be brought out to.
When it arrived, you guzzled it down much faster than you ever thought you could. You weren't really able to take to Elrond until after you finished. But when you did, he was listening very intently. You spoke of the long trek to Erebor and the difficulties you encountered along the way. He looked very concerned when you reached the part about the dragon, but that concern melted away after you spoke of its defeat.
When you ran out of tales, you found yourself tired again. It seems that a meal, a walk, and a nice chat were exactly what you needed to return to that exhausted state again. But this time, it was just an overwhelming sense of peace.
"I think I will return to my room now, thank you for the meal."
"You're very welcome, my friend. And thank you for the tales," he stood and offered to escort you back to your room. You thanked him for the kindness but refused. "Would you like me to send someone to retrieve you for breakfast in the morning?"
You thought on it for a moment, then said, "No. But thank you." The elf smiled and left you to return to other duties in Rivendell. You went to your room and went back to sleep, only to miss breakfast and barely make it to lunch.
#lotr x reader#lord elrond#rivendell#lotr elves#elves#lindir#the hobbit#lord of the rings#platonic elrond#platonic lotr#th#the fellowship of the ring#mountkennedie#elrond
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*sitting beside Lindir, whispering lowly in his ear, while your hand creeps up his thigh*
“Lindir, is it true what I’ve heard of elves ears and how sensitive they can tend to be?”
*licks up his ear, biting gently on the tip as your hands make it to where his trousers are getting tighter and tighter*
Struggling to keep his breathing under control the more your hands touched him while your mouth was casting a dangerous spell, he avoided your eyes. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about, and you shouldn’t be here right now, Y/N. I have…I have a song to prepare for tonight,” he stuttered with a small moan escaping. “You’re distracting me right now…”
#♡{sweet.kisses} ~ {lindir}#lindir x you#lindir imagine#lindir x y/n#lindir of imladris#minstrel of imladris#imladris#rivendell#lotr imagines#lotr smut#middle earth imagine
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Your work is so beautiful. How would Lindir confess his love to an elf reader?
Thank you for all your wonderful works 🩷
Thank you so much for your kind words! I’m so glad you enjoyed my writing. 🥹❤️🔥✨ It means a lot to hear that. Below, I’ve shared a piece where Lindir confesses his feelings to an elf reader what you requested. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it
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Lindir Version below
🎻𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓲𝓻
The golden glow of the setting sun bathed Rivendell’s serene gardens in warm hues, casting long shadows across the vibrant flowers and ancient stone pathways. The air was cool, carrying the faint scent of blooming lilacs and the fresh, earthy scent of the forest. A peaceful quiet enveloped the garden, save for the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze, the gentle hum of nature’s life all around. The atmosphere was calming, almost sacred, and there, on one of the stone benches nestled between the towering trees, you sat. Perhaps you were lost in the pages of a book, or simply absorbing the tranquility of the moment, each breath deep and steady. Lindir, however, was not in the garden’s peaceful embrace; he had been tending to a few duties inside Rivendell’s hall, his mind occupied with menial tasks, though it was a struggle to stay focused. His thoughts kept drifting back to you. Every time he tried to concentrate, an image of your face would linger in his mind. The warmth of your smile, the sound of your voice, the grace in the way you moved—it had all taken root in his heart without him ever intending it. Now, as the afternoon wore on and his responsibilities faded, the weight of his feelings for you had become too much to bear. His longing had grown too great. He had spent days trying to suppress it, pretending it was just admiration, just a fleeting affection. But now, in this moment, as the soft golden light kissed the earth, he knew the truth. He had to tell you.
The gravel path crunched softly under his boots as Lindir approached the garden, his steps light but deliberate. He had always been an elf of quiet grace, his movements fluid and reserved, yet now, they were hesitant—each step a small battle against the rising tide of his emotions. His heart beat faster than usual, the rhythm erratic and heavy in his chest, echoing in his ears. The air seemed too thick around him, each breath harder to draw as he inched closer. He was so close now, so close to what he had feared and longed for in equal measure—expressing the feelings that had made his thoughts spin, and his heart race. As he drew nearer, you remained unaware of his presence, engrossed in your own thoughts, unaware of the change in the atmosphere. Lindir’s eyes lingered on you, tracing the soft lines of your face, the gentle curve of your form, as though trying to memorize every detail. His throat tightened. He could see the quiet peace that surrounded you, the effortless beauty of your being, and it only made his resolve waver.
He stopped, just a few paces away from you, feeling a sharp, almost painful awareness of the distance between you. His fingers twitched by his sides, unsure of what to do with his nervous energy. He wanted to reach out, to take your hand, to somehow close the space between you, but fear held him still, rooting him to the ground. His breath was shallow, caught in his chest as he watched you, as the seconds stretched on in quiet agony. Finally, he summoned the courage to speak, his voice breaking the stillness. It was quiet, fragile—like a leaf trembling in a storm. The words came slower than he wished, but there was no turning back. “Y/N” he called, his voice barely more than a whisper on the wind. His throat constricted as he said your name, the sound of it trembling in his mouth. There was a hint of hesitation there, as if even the mere act of speaking to you brought with it a weight he wasn’t sure he could bear. He cleared his throat gently, an attempt to steady himself, but it did little to quell the racing of his pulse. His cheeks, usually calm and composed, were flushed a soft, warm pink, betraying his nervousness. His face, which often remained stoic and distant, was now painted with a vulnerability that he rarely allowed anyone to see. His hand moved slightly, as though unsure whether it should be by his side or lifted to touch you, to express the turmoil that twisted inside him. “May I… have a moment?” The words were simple, and yet, they felt monumental. His voice was quiet, almost trembling, carrying a weight of emotion that he had not intended to reveal. He had rehearsed this moment in his mind countless times, but now, standing in front of you, those rehearsed words seemed to fall short. Still, the sincerity behind them was clear.
For a brief moment, he remained there, standing just beyond your gaze, his eyes fixed on you. There was a quiet yearning in them—a silent plea to be understood, to have you see the storm raging within him. His words held a vulnerability he wasn’t used to displaying, but the need to speak his truth—to finally confess the feelings he had buried for so long—overcame every ounce of his reticence. His heart raced, and in the stillness of the evening, all he could do was wait—wait for your response, for your reaction. His hands trembled slightly, but he forced himself to remain calm, standing there, at the precipice of something he was not sure he could fully grasp. And now, the world held its breath, as Lindir waited for your eyes to meet his, unsure if this was the moment he had been waiting for, or the moment everything might change forever. You look up from your book, startled by the sound of your name, and your gaze meets his. The softness of his voice catches your attention, and you notice the slight flush on his cheeks—an unfamiliar vulnerability in his usually composed demeanor. A gentle smile tugs at your lips, and you gesture to the empty space beside you on the bench. “Of course, Lindir,” you reply, your voice calm and inviting. “What’s on your mind?” You don’t need to ask more; the quiet sincerity in his eyes speaks volumes. There’s a moment of silence as you both feel the weight of what’s unsaid between you, and the garden, now bathed in golden light, seems to hold its breath in anticipation encouraging him to speak.
Lindir hesitates, a quiet wave of uncertainty sweeping over him. His hands shift nervously, the fabric of his tunic creasing under his fingers as he grips it tighter, as if needing something to hold onto. His usual posture—graceful, confident—feels smaller now, as if the weight of his emotions is bending him, pulling at him in ways he has never known before. There is a slight tremor in his movements, and he stands a little straighter, attempting to gain some composure, but the underlying tension is palpable, an unfamiliar vulnerability lingering in the air between you. For a long moment, he says nothing, as though struggling to find the right words that have long been trapped inside him. The world around you seems to pause, the soft rustle of the leaves and the distant trickle of the fountain becoming mere background noise to the symphony of his quiet turmoil. He is used to maintaining control, to managing the myriad of tasks and responsibilities that come with his role in Rivendell, but this? This is different. He finally opens his mouth to speak, but the words catch in his throat. His voice falters, and he immediately clears it, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink from embarrassment at his own hesitation. He shifts his weight, casting a glance downward, as though the earth beneath his feet could offer him comfort or guidance. His eyes drift over the surrounding flowers, their delicate petals swaying gently in the evening breeze, offering no answers, yet somehow adding to the weight of his silence.
“I—” he starts again, his voice breaking slightly before he tries to steady himself. “I do not quite know how to begin.” His words are quiet, his tone laden with hesitation, yet the sincerity beneath them is unmistakable. He lets out a soft, almost inaudible sigh, and when he raises his gaze to meet yours, the vulnerability in his eyes is undeniable. His usual composure is shattered, replaced with a raw honesty that fills the air between you. “I… have struggled with this for some time now,” he continues, his voice barely above a whisper. “I have tried to push it away, to pretend that it was not there, but each day it grows stronger, and I… I cannot deny it any longer.” He pauses, his breath catching slightly, and for a fleeting moment, he looks as though he might retreat, that perhaps the weight of his emotions will be too much to bear. But then, he stands taller, summoning the courage to speak the truth he has long kept hidden.
“I have… grown to care for you in a way I never expected. In a way I did not allow myself to expect,” he says, his words trembling with the depth of his confession. His eyes soften, and the longing in them is unmistakable. “It is… not easy for me to say this, Y/N I have spent so many quiet moments with you—watching, listening, and yet never daring to truly acknowledge what I feel. But I cannot keep pretending anymore. I…” He swallows, his chest tightening with emotion, his words almost lost to the weight of his affection. “I care for you, deeply. More than I ever thought possible.” There’s a long, painful silence between you, one that is thick with the unspoken truth. His words hang in the air, a tender confession wrapped in the warmth of his heart. Lindir stands before you, his hands now trembling slightly at his sides, but his gaze never leaves yours. It is as if he is waiting for your reaction, but even more so, he seems to be grappling with his own vulnerability, exposed in a way he never has been before. “I…” He falters again, his breath shallow. His voice is barely audible, yet it carries the weight of everything he has kept locked away for so long. “I love you, Y/N. I cannot keep this inside any longer. It is a truth that has been growing within me, slowly, and now I cannot imagine my life without you in it. You are with me in every moment—whether we speak or not, whether you are near or far. I find myself thinking of you even when I do not wish to, and every time I see you, it feels as though my heart finds its place again.” He takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with the intensity of his emotions. “I love you, more than I can express, more than my words can carry. And perhaps this is foolish of me to say, but I cannot keep pretending otherwise. You have become a part of me.”
Lindir’s eyes, always so careful and reserved, now shine with an openness that is both raw and beautiful. The silence between you is no longer heavy with uncertainty but filled with the weight of his confession. “I do not ask for anything in return,” he says softly, his voice tender, almost fragile in its honesty. “I only wanted you to know this truth—one I can no longer hold within me. I love you, with all that I am. And though I fear the possibility of your rejection, I must speak this, for you have become everything to me.” He exhales softly, the tension in his form melting into something more vulnerable, more honest. And as his words linger in the air, the world around you seems to pause once again, the fading light of the sun casting a warm glow on the two of you—caught in this moment, where words no longer need to speak, and only the truth of his heart remains. Lindir stands before you, utterly still, his entire body tense, as if awaiting the inevitable judgment of his soul’s most vulnerable confession. His hands, which are usually steady and certain in their tasks, now tremble slightly at his sides, betraying the storm of emotions raging within him. He feels the thrum of his heart pounding in his chest, so loud that it drowns out everything else—his thoughts, the soft rustle of leaves in the garden, the distant sounds of Rivendell. The air between you seems to hum with the weight of his words, like the breath before a storm.
His usual composure has crumbled, leaving him bare and exposed. The serene, gentle elf you know has momentarily faded, replaced by a version of Lindir you rarely see—raw, unguarded, and completely at the mercy of his emotions. His lips part as though he might say something else, something to lessen the tension, but no words come. Instead, there is only silence, thick and heavy with the uncertainty of what might happen next. His gaze is locked onto you, but it’s not the usual steady gaze—it flickers with a nervous, almost desperate edge. His eyes search your face for any sign, any hint of what you might be thinking. But all he sees is the calm expression you wear, and that only makes his anxiety rise higher. His heart lurches with doubt, twisting inside him, and for a fleeting moment, he wonders if he has made a mistake—if his confession, so clumsy and exposed, will drive you away instead of bringing you closer. He had imagined so many different outcomes to this moment, but never had he thought of how vulnerable it would leave him, how naked his heart would feel as he stood here, waiting. The soft blush on his cheeks deepens as he swallows, and he feels the burn of embarrassment spreading through him, the heat of it crawling up to his ears. His stomach turns in tight knots, and the air feels heavier with each passing second. He wishes, not for the first time, that he could simply retreat, disappear into the quiet corners of Rivendell where no one could see him, where he wouldn’t have to face the rawness of this moment. But his feet refuse to move, and his gaze remains fixed on you, as if anchored there by something far deeper than the nerves plaguing him now. But then—just as the suffocating silence threatens to overwhelm him—he notices it. The soft curve of your lips, the warmth in your eyes, the reassuring calmness in the way you look at him. It’s not a rush of overwhelming emotion, but something gentler, something more understanding, as if you are seeing him for who he truly is in this moment—not the composed, quiet elf, but the one who has laid his heart bare.
His breath catches, and for a brief, infinite moment, his fears falter. The anxious flutter in his chest doesn’t fade, but it lessens just enough to allow a flicker of hope to break through. He waits for you to speak, to let him know whether his confession will shatter or find its place in the quiet spaces between you. But as you sit there, eyes locked on his, your expression unreadable for the moment, time seems to stretch on. It’s as though the very air around you holds its breath, waiting for you to break the silence. The uncertainty twists inside him once more, pulling at his resolve. His body tenses, as though he might collapse under the weight of what is to come. His heart races again, a frantic drumbeat in his chest, and he waits—anxious, vulnerable, and trembling as the moment stretches on, each second more torturous than the last. Will his feelings be met with kindness? Will his truth be received with the same care he has put into it? Or will this be the moment that changes everything, in ways he cannot yet comprehend? All he can do is wait, the silence hanging between you like a fragile thread, waiting to snap or strengthen with your answer.
Two versions below return and reject (you can pick which ever one you like)
(first one you return feelings)
You sit there, the weight of the moment settling heavily between you both, the world around you feeling strangely suspended, as if time itself has paused to witness this delicate confession. Lindir’s words still linger in the air, the vulnerability in his voice raw, yet imbued with a quiet courage that touches something deep inside of you. His gaze is fixed on you, his eyes wide with a mixture of hope and uncertainty, as if he’s waiting for you to make sense of what he has so fearfully and courageously shared. It’s almost as though every breath he takes, every beat of his heart, depends on the answer you’ll give. The fragile hope in his eyes is almost too much for him to bear, and you can feel the tenderness of that moment, how it rests on the precipice of something life-altering. Your heart tightens as you realize that this is one of those rare, precious intersections where truth and emotion meet—where love, once whispered in the corners of your soul, now begs to be spoken aloud. You can no longer hold it back. You take a breath, steadying yourself, and meet his gaze fully, letting the warmth of your feelings pour into your words.
“Lindir,” you begin, your voice soft but sure, “I… I don’t know how to say this, but I do care for you. More than you could ever know.” The words feel right, like a long-forgotten truth finding its place. Your heart pounds in your chest, and yet, despite the sudden rush of emotion, there’s a wave of relief that washes over you, soothing the nervous tension that had built. As you speak, you watch his expression shift, ever so slightly, his eyes flickering with the faintest spark of hope, like the first hint of dawn after a long, uncertain night. “I do love you, Lindir. I’ve loved you for a long time, in my own quiet way.” His breath catches at your words, and for a moment, his entire body seems to freeze. His wide eyes lock with yours, as though he cannot quite comprehend the meaning of what you’ve said, as though he is hearing the most unbelievable of truths. The air between you both hums with a palpable energy, a silent current of emotion that connects you both in a way that words alone never could. Lindir stands motionless, processing the weight of your confession, the possibility of your love so surreal to him that it seems beyond reach.
And then, his face transforms. The guarded uncertainty in his eyes melts away, and a pure, unrestrained joy fills his expression, softening the sharp angles of his features into something tender. His lips part, and the barest of smiles emerges, like a delicate blossom opening to the light. “You… you truly feel the same?” he asks, his voice a whisper, as though he’s testing the very reality of your words, afraid they might dissolve if he speaks too soon. The incredulity in his voice is palpable, and his cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red, as if the warmth of your words has overwhelmed him. His hands tremble slightly at his sides, fingers curling in uncertainty as he contemplates whether it’s safe to reach for you, whether the joy blooming in his chest can truly be allowed to blossom. You smile, a soft, knowing expression that reaches your eyes, and nod gently. Your heart flutters in your chest as you watch his face light up with that same mixture of disbelief and joy. “I do,” you confirm, your voice barely above a whisper but full of warmth, and with that, you can see the relief flood his face, as though a burden he didn’t even realize he was carrying has suddenly been lifted from his shoulders. His whole body seems to relax, the tension he had held so tightly dissipating, leaving only the quiet peace of understanding between you both.
A soft, breathless laugh escapes him, full of wonder, and it seems as though the very sound of it is a release—his heart, once tight with worry and uncertainty, now soaring with joy. He takes a step closer, his movements slow and deliberate, as if savoring the moment, unwilling to rush it, to risk losing the magic of it all. His hesitation lingers, his body language still cautious, but the warmth in his gaze is undeniable as he steps forward. He reaches out toward you, his hand trembling slightly, as if unsure whether to make the first move, whether this new reality is truly within his grasp. His fingers brush against yours, the touch light and tentative, yet filled with a depth of meaning—like the very touch carries the weight of everything he has longed for, everything he has quietly hoped for but feared he could never have.
“I… I promise to be everything you deserve,” he murmurs, his voice low, rich with emotion, and it sends a shiver through you. “I will love you, honor you, care for you with everything I am.” His words, soft and sincere, hold a promise that resonates deeply within you, a vow spoken from the very depths of his heart, a promise to always be there, to always cherish what you share. Lindir, ever shy and reserved, leans in ever so slightly, his movements delicate, like someone testing the waters of this newfound connection. His lips brush against your hand, a kiss soft and reverent, a simple, almost sacred act that carries with it more meaning than any grand declaration could. The kiss is gentle—no fire, no explosion—but it speaks volumes. It is a kiss of tenderness, of affection, of a love that has grown quietly but steadily between you both, until it finally found the courage to bloom.
In that moment, everything seems to fall into place, the tension that had gripped your hearts easing, leaving behind a quiet sense of peace and belonging. His breath steadies, and as he gazes at you, his eyes are filled with warmth, the kind of warmth that only love can bring—a quiet joy that fills the spaces between your words and the unspoken things still lingering in the air. With you, Lindir knows that he no longer has to fear the future, that he can finally open his heart to you, fully and without reservation. He is no longer the hesitant, uncertain man who once hid his feelings away—he is now the man who stands before you, whole and complete, ready to share his love without fear. “I will always be here,” he whispers, his voice barely audible but carrying a weight of promise that settles deep within you. “With you, I’ve found a peace I never knew I could have.”
As he stands before you, hand still clasped in yours, the world feels as though it has shifted into perfect alignment. The garden around you is alive with a new vibrancy, as though it, too, has breathed a sigh of relief, sensing the harmony between you both. Lindir, once filled with anxiety and doubt, now stands before you with a heart full of love, ready to offer it to you without fear. In this moment, you realize that together, you can face whatever comes. Whatever storms or uncertainties may lie ahead, this love—tender, sincere, and full of quiet devotion—is more than enough to carry you through, and it will always be enough, because this love is everything you both need.
(Second one you reject his feelings)
You sit there, the weight of the moment sinking in as Lindir’s words, soft but filled with an unmistakable sorrow, echo in your ears. The quiet air of the garden seems to hold its breath around you both, and in the stillness, the flickering hope in his eyes fades. His words are gentle, but they leave a cold emptiness behind them, a truth you wish you didn’t have to say. As Lindir begins to pull away, the space between you both growing wider, your heart tightens. His expression, once filled with warmth and vulnerability, has now shifted into something quieter, more distant—his hurt palpable even in his restraint. For a moment, you wish you could reach out to stop him, to say something that might ease his pain, but you know there’s nothing more to say. You take a breath, your voice trembling ever so slightly, but steady. “Lindir, I… I’m sorry,” you begin, your words heavy with regret, knowing how deeply they will cut. “I never wanted to hurt you, truly. You’re such a good person, and you’ve always been kind to me, but… my heart doesn’t… doesn’t feel the same way.” Your voice falters, the weight of your confession pressing down on you.
Lindir stands there for a moment, as still as the stone statues that adorn the gardens of Rivendell. His heart, which had once soared with hope, now sinks with the crushing weight of your words. The gentle confession of your feelings, though kind and sincere, pierces through him like a blade, and the warmth he had felt just moments ago vanishes, leaving only coldness in its wake. His face is pale now, the flush of nervousness replaced by the stark, muted pallor of quiet heartbreak. His hands, which had trembled with anticipation, now hang limply at his sides, fingers curled into tense fists. He wants to speak—wants to say something that might ease the ache in his chest—but the words feel too heavy, too inadequate. How could he make sense of the fact that the person he has silently adored for so long could never return his feelings?
The last thing you wanted was to cause him pain, and yet here you are, watching the life in his eyes dim. His sorrow mirrors your own, a reflection of the pain both of you feel in this moment. For a long moment, he simply listens to you, his gaze cast downward, unwilling to meet your eyes, afraid that seeing the sorrow in your expression will break him completely. Every syllable you speak deepens the ache in his heart. He had known, on some level, that this moment was always a possibility. But he had allowed himself to dream, to hope for something more. And now, those dreams shatter, leaving only a quiet sorrow in their place. You look up, your gaze meeting his, hoping he can see the regret in your eyes, even as your own heart aches for him. “I do care for you, Lindir,” you continue, your voice soft, “but it’s not the same. You deserve someone who can love you the way you deserve to be loved. I—I wish I could be that person, but I can’t be.” The words feel hollow as they leave your mouth, but they are the truth, the painful truth neither of you wanted to face. The silence between you thickens as he absorbs what you’ve said, and it feels like your heart is being torn in two. The space that was once full of the gentle hum of shared moments now feels impossibly vast.
Lindir doesn’t say anything for a moment, just stands there, his posture rigid, his expression unreadable. You can feel his gaze on you, and it burns—heavy with the pain of your rejection. You wish you could make this easier for him, for both of you. But you know that no matter how much you want to, you can’t change how you feel. “I—I’m so sorry,” you repeat, barely above a whisper. “You’re not alone in this. But I can’t give you what you want from me.” His quiet acceptance of your words, that faint but obvious hurt in his eyes, nearly shatters you. There’s nothing more to say, nothing you can do, and before you can stop it, the finality of your confession hangs in the air. “I… I understand,” he finally manages to say, his voice soft and strained. He doesn’t look up as he speaks—he can’t. It’s too much. His breath catches in his throat, and his chest tightens with a grief he hadn’t anticipated. It’s the kind of grief that makes him wish he could disappear, to retreat from the reality that’s crashing down around him. But he doesn’t. He stands there, still, holding himself together with the last bit of dignity he has left.
The smile he offers you now, though it’s still soft, is a shadow of the one he had worn before—tinged with sorrow, tinged with the acceptance of a love unreturned. His words come in a whisper, barely audible, “I understand, Y/N. I will respect your wishes.” There’s an almost imperceptible crack in his voice, the softest of tremors. But then, just as quickly, his composure returns, the layers of his dignity protecting him from further exposure. “I wish you happiness too,” he adds quietly. “Always.” He wants to say more, to tell you that it’s all right, that he’ll accept this, that he will always respect your wishes. But the words catch in his throat, trapped behind the overwhelming weight of his emotions. Instead, he just nods silently, his lips pressing together in a thin line. He doesn’t want to seem weak—not in front of you, not in front of the one person who has unknowingly stolen his heart. But inside, the cracks are widening, and he can feel the fissures of his heart breaking apart. The silence between you both is deafening. The garden, once a place of serenity, now feels like a hollow echo of what could have been. Lindir takes a step back, the movement slow, deliberate, as if giving space to the grief that now fills the gap between you. He can’t bear to look at you any longer, though his heart aches with the desire to, with the hope that somehow you might change your mind, that your words had been said with hesitation or regret.
But you don’t. And so he turns, his back to you now, his steps light and measured as he retreats into the garden. His mind races, but it’s clouded by the sting of rejection. He wonders if he will ever be able to look at you the same way again, if he’ll ever be able to stand in the same room with you without feeling this unbearable ache. As his figure grows smaller in the distance, there’s a quiet sorrow that lingers in the air, as though even the garden feels the absence of what could have been. Lindir doesn’t look back—not because he doesn’t want to, but because he fears if he does, the last thread of his composure might snap. Instead, he continues his slow, measured steps away from you, each one heavy with the weight of an unspoken goodbye. And as he disappears into the depths of the garden, the silence that follows is the loudest sound he’s ever heard.
#Linder#lindir x reader#lindir x you#lindir supremacy#lindir simps#lindir of rivendell#lindir headcanons#lindir rivendell#lord of the rings#the hobbit#lotr elves
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Imagine: stealing Lindir’s cloak then snuggling up to him because you’re cold.
You shivered as the spring rain fell outside the window. You scooted closer to the fire and rubbed your arms. You looked over. Lindir was in a chair with a book in his hands. His cloak was hanging on a hook in the corner of the room. You stood and grabbed it, wrapping yourself tightly.
After sitting in front of the fire with the cloak you were still cold. You looked over at lindir and shrugged, walking over to him.
Lindir looked up at you as you stood in front of him. “What is it?” He asked, eyeing his cloak with humor.
You crawled into his lap and shivered. “I’m cold…”
Lindir set the book down and pulled you closer. “Come here…” he mumbled, kissing your forehead. “I’ll keep you warm.”
You wrested your head on his shoulder. “Mmm…thank you…”
Lindir smiled. “Anything for you, love…”
#x reader#kat651#lotr#lord of the rings#cute#lindir#lindir x reader#lindir x you#lindir imagine#rivendell#imladris#tolkien#lotr headcanons
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A Birdwatcher's Guide to Rivendell - Expected Sightings
(Exerpt from Bilbo Baggins' A Hobbit's Traveling Companion)
Many species of singing finches, some of the color and kind of the Shire, but some of bright hues– dusty pinks, deep purples, and gentle greens– that I have yet to see anywhere else.
A great number of sweet-singing nightingales.
Ducks. For the avid birders among you I would recommend visiting in the spring and early summer to ensure you see the duckling season.
An exceedingly small type of shimmering bird which does the work of a bee and which the elves refer to as "hummingbirds." Feeders are set up for them around the valley and, with much patience and time, they can be convinced to eat out of one's hand.
A number of swans, both black and white. Very elegant, though best witnessed at some distance. One of these has silver feathers and often seems to be "laughing." This one you will find on certain days only, usually following Lord Elrond.
A small population of chickens. Apparently they were a gift to Lord Elrond, and intended to be eaten, but instead have become the collective pets of the valley. They are dark-feathered and, apparently, dark-fleshed, though I can't be sure of that last bit.
Addendum to the previous note about nightingales: there is one in particular, which sings much better than the rest, though much more sadly. It is easy to recognize, as unlike all the others, it is pure white.
Owls. The natural kind in Rivendell are the horned ones, though you will occasionally also spot barn owls, which are apparently messengers from the witch of Lothlorien. They are given time to rest and eat before being sent back, and enjoy perching on any in the valley who will let them.
Doves and pigeons, of all shapes and colors, taken as both messengers and as pets by various inhabitants. Lord Elrond is occasionally numbered amongst these, though I can always pick him out.
Eagles, which are magnificent to behold. One particularly large bird– which can speak in elvish tongue– occasionally joins the household for dinner. I am told his name is Thorondor, and that he has a long-standing friendship with the Lord Glorfindel. He has also obliged my of my questions about the history of the First Age.
Pheasants and quails of many varieties. They appear to gather in the valley because hunting is forbidden there, and enjoy mostly peaceful lives because of it.
One magpie. Initially I thought there was a small population, but after careful observation, there really is just the one. He's a fiend about shiny objects, and difficult to spot, but has a rather remarkable singing voice, especially for such a bird. I have found him often in concert with the white nightingale– a behavior I have not observed amongst any other birds. It is a marvelous performance, and I wouldn't miss it.
Lindir, who has the most birdish mannerisms of any elf I've ever met, and who therefore counts as one, by my reckoning. He does also sing very nicely.
#silmarillion#the hobbit#bilbo baggins#elrond#elrond peredhel#lindir#glorfindel#daeron#maglor#thorondor#rivendell#imladris
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What I think their scent, favorite food, dessert, flower, drink, color, season, animal, guilty pleasure, and spiritual animal.
Headcanons: Gil Galad, Celebrimbor, Thranduil, Elrond, Glorfindel, Haldir, Lindir.
Gil~Galad
Scent: He carries the scent of crisp winter air, mingling with the earthy fragrance of ancient wood and the salty tang of the sea. It evokes both the distant chill of the north and the ageless spirit of the Elves, an aura of ancient wisdom and strength.
Favorite Food: He relishes venison roasted over an open fire, a meal that carries with it the essence of the wilds—earthy, smoky, and fit for a king. It is simple yet refined, representing his balance of strength and nobility.
Favorite Dessert: Golden honey cakes, their sweetness balanced with a hint of spice, reflect his deep connection to both the earth and the Elven love for rich, delicate flavors. A treat as elegant and timeless as his reign.
Favorite Flower: White lilies hold a special place in his heart—delicate and pure, they symbolize nobility and purity, embodying the essence of Elven grace and the lasting legacy of the Noldor.
Favorite Drink: He enjoys rich, aged wine from the vineyards of Lindon, its complexity and depth echoing the long history of the Elves. Each sip carries the taste of Elven craftsmanship and the timeless beauty of the land he rules.
Favorite Color: Silver is his chosen hue, the color of stars, regal power, and the quiet nobility of the Elves. It speaks to his high status, his timeless wisdom, and the quiet serenity of his rule.
Favorite Season: Autumn is his favorite season, when the world feels as if it is in a moment of stillness. The changing leaves and the crisp air reflect his deep connection to the passage of time and his quiet contemplation of Middle-earth’s ever-turning cycles.
Favorite Animal: The peacock, with its dazzling plumage, resonates with his sense of majesty, grace, and regal presence. It is an animal that, though rare and striking, moves with a quiet confidence that mirrors Gil-galad’s own commanding yet composed nature.
Guilty Pleasure: Though he is bound by duty, Gil-galad secretly finds solace in spending time in the serene gardens of Lindon, away from his royal responsibilities. In these private moments, he reconnects with the peaceful rhythms of nature, something his kingship often denies him.
Spiritual Animal: The falcon, noble and ever-watchful, is his spiritual animal. Its ability to soar high above, to see the world with clarity and precision, mirrors his own role as a leader who sees both the grand picture and the details of his realm from above, with calm detachment and vigilant responsibility.
Celebrimbor
Scent: Celebrimbor carries the scent of oak—earthy and grounded—mixed with the metallic tang of the forge. His aroma evokes the intimacy of creation, the warmth of a forge at dusk, where the heat of the fire and the coolness of twilight meet.
Favorite Food: He favors Elven bread, soft and light, often paired with honey and fresh fruit. The simplicity of this food, with its sweetness and delicate flavors, mirrors his appreciation for craftsmanship—refined, yet never overwhelming.
Favorite Dessert: A dish of caramelized figs, warm and fragrant, spiced with a touch of cinnamon. It combines both sweetness and spice, much like his own character—delicate but capable of surprising depth.
Favorite Flower: The Silverleaf, with its delicate and intricate petals, symbolizes the blend of beauty and precision that Celebrimbor values in both his work and the world around him. Its silvery hue reflects his affinity for elegance and refinement.
Favorite Drink: He enjoys a herbal brew that clears the mind, typically something light and refreshing, with notes of mint and thyme. It helps him focus and think clearly, providing clarity before diving into his complex creations.
Favorite Color: Silver, the color of his craft. It shines with a quiet brilliance, much like his work in metal and stone. The reflective hue represents purity, sophistication, and the noble nature of his creations.
Favorite Season: Spring is Celebrimbor’s favorite season, symbolizing the creative renewal of life. Much like the budding flowers and fresh air of spring, it fuels his desire to create, constantly renewing his passion for innovation and artistry.
Favorite Animal: The owl, a creature known for its wisdom and keen observation, mirrors Celebrimbor’s own insightful nature. His quiet, analytical demeanor and ability to perceive things others might miss makes him kin to this nocturnal hunter of knowledge.
Guilty Pleasure: Celebrimbor often loses himself in the designs of new weapons. It’s his secret indulgence—a moment when the pressures of leadership and duty melt away, and he’s consumed by the art of crafting something powerful and beautiful, just for the sake of it.
Spiritual Animal: The phoenix resonates deeply with him. Like the legendary bird, Celebrimbor is reborn from both creation and destruction. His passion for forging, as well as his struggle with Sauron’s betrayal, mirrors the cycle of rising from the ashes to create anew.
Thranduil
Scent: Thranduil carries the scent of pine and fresh dew on the forest floor, a fragrant reminder of his deep connection to Mirkwood’s ancient woods. It’s the smell of tranquility and timelessness, evoking a sense of quiet majesty.
Favorite Food: He enjoys forest mushrooms paired with wild game, a dish that reflects the wild, untamed beauty of his realm. The flavors are earthy and rich, as he appreciates the bounty the forest provides.
Favorite Dessert: Sweet berry tarts, their tangy and delicate flavors satisfy his refined taste for the finest things, while still feeling grounded in the natural sweetness of the world around him.
Favorite Flower: Thranduil favors snowdrops, the delicate flowers that bloom quietly in the coldest months. Their purity and elegance mirror his noble yet reserved nature, and they are a reminder of the strength hidden in quiet beauty.
Favorite Drink: Dorwinion wine is his drink of choice—rich, bold, and refined. The wine’s depth and complexity suit his long-lived nature and his taste for the finer things, reflecting his appreciation for both luxury and tradition.
Favorite Color: Emerald green reflects the vibrant, lush forests of Mirkwood. This deep, rich color symbolizes the strength, mystery, and endless depth of the natural world, mirroring his kingdom and his own regal presence.
Favorite Season: Autumn is his favored season, when the forest is bathed in warm hues of gold and red. It represents a time of change and beauty, much like his own life—a season of reflection and quiet power.
Favorite Animal: The white stag, elusive and proud, represents both grace and strength in the forest. It embodies his own leadership style—majestic, solitary, and deeply connected to the land he rules over.
Guilty Pleasure: Thranduil enjoys his own company more than most, relishing moments of solitude. In these rare moments, he reflects, indulges in his treasures, and experiences peace away from the pressures of his crown.
Spiritual Animal: The lion, powerful and majestic, mirrors his fierce authority and regal presence. Like the lion, Thranduil commands respect and exudes quiet confidence, his strength lying in his measured, controlled nature.
Elrond
Smell: Elrond carries the scent of fresh mountain air, carrying with it a hint of wild herbs and earthy parchment—a blend of nature’s tranquility and the wisdom of his many years.
Favorite Food: His favorite is a hearty stew, simple but satisfying—a meal that represents his practicality and deep connection to the land. It’s both nourishing and comforting, much like his presence in Rivendell.
Favorite Dessert: For something sweet, Elrond enjoys delicate almond cakes—soft and fragrant, with a subtle sweetness that mirrors his gentle yet firm leadership.
Favorite Flower: He favors lavender, its soothing scent and soft purple hue reflecting his calm, patient demeanor, and the peace he brings to his people.
Favorite Drink: A floral herbal tea brewed from the gardens of Rivendell is his drink of choice—light and fragrant, a symbol of his connection to the natural world and the healing qualities he offers.
Favorite Color: The color blue resonates most with Elrond, symbolizing wisdom, peace, and the quiet strength he exudes. It is the color of both the sky and the deep waters—reflective, calm, and enduring.
Favorite Season: Spring is Elrond’s favorite season—a time of renewal, when life begins anew and the world feels calm yet full of potential, much like his own eternal role in Rivendell.
Favorite Animal: The raven holds a special place in his heart—wise, observant, and occasionally brooding. Much like Elrond, the raven is deeply attuned to the world’s mysteries, often seen as a symbol of insight.
Guilty Pleasure: Elrond’s guilty pleasure is losing himself in old scrolls and forgotten histories—the vast knowledge of Middle-earth and its past is something he can never resist, even if it means he spends long hours in solitude.
Spiritual Animal: The swan is his spiritual animal, graceful and serene. It represents his nobility, elegance, and inner calm—a creature that glides smoothly, even though its feet are constantly working beneath the surface.
Glorfindel
Scent: Glorfindel smells like the warm, golden sunlight of the plains, blended with the fresh, earthy scent of wild herbs and flowers. His presence carries the invigorating aroma of nature, like a quiet breeze that moves through a meadow in full bloom. There’s a subtle hint of pine and earth that clings to him, especially after he’s been in the wild.
Favorite Food: His favorite food is a hearty lamb roast, tender and juicy, seasoned with fresh rosemary, garlic, and a hint of salt. The flavors are simple but bold, much like Glorfindel himself—strong, comforting, and full of life.
Favorite Dessert: Berry pies with a golden, flaky crust are Glorfindel’s favorite dessert. The sweetness of the berries contrasts perfectly with the rich, buttery crust, providing a balance he appreciates.
Favorite Flower: Glorfindel’s favorite flower is the sunflower, which symbolizes strength, vitality, and light—traits that he values deeply. The towering, golden blooms remind him of the power and beauty of nature, reflecting his own inner light and unwavering courage.
Favorite Drink: He enjoys a strong, dark elven coffee—smooth but intense, much like his presence. The deep, rich flavors of the brew awaken his senses and provide him with the energy needed to face the challenges of leadership and battle.
Favorite Color: Gold is Glorfindel’s favorite color, representing the sun’s warmth, strength, and vitality. It symbolizes his noble nature, his leadership, and his inner light.
Favorite Season: Summer is Glorfindel’s favorite season, filled with warmth, light, and life. It’s a time of abundance and vitality, much like his own exuberant spirit. He feels most connected to the world around him during this season, thriving in the sunlight and the full bloom of nature, as if the world is alive with endless possibilities.
Favorite Animal: A wild, majestic stallion is Glorfindel’s favorite animal, embodying freedom, strength, and grace. The stallion’s untamed spirit and commanding presence mirror Glorfindel’s own noble yet free-spirited nature. He feels a deep bond with these creatures, often riding into battle with the same fierce independence and power.
Guilty Pleasure: Glorfindel’s guilty pleasure is training for hours, often just because he enjoys the challenge. Whether it’s perfecting his swordplay or pushing himself to new physical limits, he finds joy in the act of pushing his body and mind to the edge. It’s a moment of solitude where he can focus solely on himself, away from the burdens of leadership.
Spiritual Animal: His spiritual animal is the lion—majestic, brave, and protective. Much like the lion, Glorfindel exudes confidence and strength, with a natural leadership that commands respect. He is fiercely loyal and protective of those he cares about, much like a lion safeguarding its pride. His courage is unwavering, and his spirit is one of unwavering protection.
Haldir
Smell: Haldir carries the sharp scent of wood and green leaves with him, a reminder of the forests he guards. It’s the fresh, invigorating scent of the wild, mixed with the earthiness of moss and the crispness of the forest floor after rain.
Favorite Food: He favors dried fish, smoked over a crackling fire. It’s simple, yet satisfying, with the smoky flavors of the forest’s edge filling the air—something hearty and practical for a warrior who lives by the rhythms of nature.
Favorite Dessert: Soft, warm berry tarts bring him comfort, the sweetness of the fruit balanced by the buttery pastry. It’s the kind of dessert that reminds him of quiet moments shared with loved ones in the peaceful calm of the woods.
Favorite Flower: Roses are his favorite, their petals delicate yet strong. Like him, they thrive in the face of challenges, their beauty a testament to resilience. He’s drawn to their quiet strength, much like the guardianship he feels for his people.
Favorite Drink: A strong, earthy tea with herbs from his homeland is Haldir’s drink of choice. Its depth of flavor, grounded by roots and leaves, helps center his mind during long hours of watch or when he seeks solitude to reflect on the tasks ahead.
Favorite Color: Forest green, the color of his heart, is the color that defines him. It’s the hue of the woods he loves, where he feels most at home, a blend of peace and power that flows through every aspect of his life.
Favorite Season: Autumn, when the leaves turn gold and the air is crisp, is Haldir’s favorite season. The quiet change of the world around him mirrors his own introspection, and he finds comfort in the calm that the turning of the seasons brings.
Favorite Animal: The fox, clever and agile, represents Haldir’s sharp mind and quick reflexes. It’s a creature that moves silently through the underbrush, ever watchful and quick to adapt—traits he values as a protector of the forest.
Guilty Pleasure: Haldir’s guilty pleasure is taking long walks alone in the woods, reflecting on his thoughts. In these moments, he is away from the burdens of leadership, allowing the quiet of the forest to clear his mind and help him find peace.
Spiritual Animal: The hawk, swift and focused, is his spiritual animal. It represents his sharp gaze and unwavering determination, as well as his ability to navigate through challenges with precision and a clear purpose. The hawk soars above, always keeping watch over all below.
Lindir
Scent: Lindir carries the scent of sweet-scented wood and aged parchment, a reflection of his scholarly nature. The gentle, earthy notes speak of quiet study, timeless wisdom, and the calming presence of Rivendell’s ancient halls.
Favorite Food: A delicate blend of fruit, sweet with a tangy glaze that balances the flavors perfectly. It’s a dish that mirrors his appreciation for simple pleasures with a touch of refinement.
Favorite Dessert: Lemon cakes, tart but soft, embodying Lindir’s balance of sharp intellect and gentle spirit. Their vibrant flavor lifts the mood, much like his quiet but uplifting presence among friends.
Favorite Flower: White roses, elegant and unpretentious, reflecting his love for simplicity and beauty. The pure, soft petals remind him of peace and clarity.
Favorite Drink: Soft, berry-infused water, refreshing yet light, much like Lindir’s calm and approachable demeanor. It’s a drink that cools the spirit and nourishes the soul.
Favorite Color: Pale blue, cool and serene like a calm river, this color mirrors Lindir’s gentle, composed nature. It reminds him of the quiet moments spent near the water, feeling at peace with the world.
Favorite Season: Spring, a season of renewal and growth. Lindir finds joy in watching the world awaken, much like his own heart, which comes alive with the season’s fresh start.
Favorite Animal: The songbird, delicate and beautiful, a symbol of grace and freedom. Lindir admires its ability to express itself with such simplicity, yet its song can fill the air with meaning and warmth.
Guilty Pleasure: Singing at the top of his lungs when no one’s around. It’s his secret escape, a moment of joy and release where he lets his heart sing freely, without worry or restraint.
Spiritual Animal: The dove, a symbol of peace, grace, and hope. Much like the dove, Lindir is gentle and calm, always striving to bring tranquility to those around him, spreading harmony wherever he goes.
#gil galad#gil galad headcanons#gil galad of lindon#Celebrimbor#Celebrimbor headcanons#Celebrimbor of eregion#thranduil#thranduil headcanons#thranduil of mirkwood#elrond#elrond headcanons#elrond of rivendell#glorfindel#glorfindel headcanons#Glorfindel of rivendell#haldir#haldir headcanons#haldir of lorien#lindir#lindir headcanons#lindir of rivendell#lotr elves
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Lindir makes me crazy, PLEASE LEARN THAT I LOVE YOU!!!!!!! Ufff....
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