#lord celeborn x reader

[earthlybeam]

hewwoo~ long time enjoyer here! very excited to see someone writes for celeborn. I just love that malewife elf <3

could you do a cheeky/snarky!reader flirting with celeborn, gil-galad and thranduil please? these are my top 3 elves rn and your writing is soooo dreamy :3

how would the elves react to this?

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Celeborn, Gil-galad, thranduil Versions are below. They are two versions of each.

🩵𝓒𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓫𝓸𝓻𝓷

First one

𖣂 The tranquil beauty of Lothlórien surrounds you, the golden light of the mellyrn trees filtering softly through their shimmering leaves. The ethereal air of the Golden Wood feels almost otherworldly, a quiet calm that speaks of the millennia of wisdom and magic that have shaped this realm. In the center of it all stands Celeborn, a vision of elven grace and nobility. His silver hair glows faintly in the dappled light, his piercing eyes reflecting a serene yet sharp intelligence. He exudes a quiet dignity, a presence that commands respect without arrogance. You approach him, feeling a flutter of nerves—after all, it’s not every day you stand before the Lord of Lothlórien. But instead of bowing in formality, you decide to take a different approach, a playful glint in your eye. You mocking awe “So this is the great Lord of Lothlórien. Wise, graceful… and probably the reason half the elves here are swooning. Is there a waiting list to get your attention, or do I have to bribe someone?”

𖣂 For a moment, Celeborn’s serene expression doesn’t change, and you wonder if your playful tone has fallen flat. Then, his lips curl ever so slightly into a small, amused smile. His gaze meets yours, steady and unflinching, but with a hint of curiosity. Celeborn slightly amused. “You seem resourceful. I imagine you’d find a way without resorting to bribery.” His voice is smooth and measured, carrying a subtle warmth beneath its calm surface. He tilts his head ever so slightly, as if studying you, his amusement flickering like a spark behind his eyes.

𖣂 You take his response as an invitation to continue the playful banter, stepping closer and lowering your voice conspiratorially. You grinning “Oh, I don’t need to bribe anyone. I’ll just charm you into skipping the line.” A soft chuckle escapes him, rare and quiet, but genuine. He regards you for a moment longer, the faintest trace of a smirk lingering on his face. His demeanor remains composed, but there’s an undeniable twinkle of amusement in his eyes. “Charm, is it? A bold strategy, but one that requires confidence… and no small amount of skill. I suppose you believe yourself well-qualified?”

𖣂 You feign offense, placing a hand dramatically over your heart. You mock indignation. “Well-qualified? My lord, you wound me. I’ll have you know my charm has been praised by elves, men, and hobbits alike. But if you doubt me, perhaps I should prove it?” The slight upward twitch of his eyebrow tells you he’s enjoying this far more than he’s letting on. His voice lowers, adopting a playful edge that’s rare for someone so reserved. “Prove it? A dangerous proposition. If I find your proof lacking, I may be forced to remain unimpressed.”

𖣂 The challenge in his words is subtle, but it’s there, hidden beneath layers of calm composure. His tone is light, but his gaze holds yours, unyielding yet inviting. You leaning in slightly. “Then I’ll just have to ensure my proof is flawless. Though, if I may say so, my lord, you don’t seem the type who is easily unimpressed.” For a fleeting moment, Celeborn seems to weigh your words, his expression unreadable. Then, his lips curve into a small, genuine smile—a rare and dazzling sight that takes you by surprise. “Perhaps I am not. But you certainly have a… unique approach. Let us see if your charm is as formidable as you claim.” There’s a softness in his voice now, almost teasing but still restrained, as though he’s testing the waters of this exchange. The quiet Lord of Lothlórien, it seems, is not entirely immune to the art of playful flirtation.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Second one

𖣂 The golden light of Lothlórien dances across the delicate leaves of the mellyrn trees, their quiet whispers filling the tranquil air. Celeborn stands at the edge of a silver fountain, his tall figure radiating an air of timeless grace. His silvery hair catches the light, and his calm, thoughtful expression seems almost impenetrable—a mask of serene composure hiding layers of complexity. There’s something undeniably magnetic about him, a mystery you can’t quite resist unraveling. You approach with a playful smile, deciding to push past his reserved demeanor. After all, who can resist a bit of teasing? You playfully, with mock thoughtfulness. “You know, Celeborn, you’re like a riddle wrapped in an enigma… wrapped in very nice robes. Care to unravel yourself for me?”

𖣂 For a moment, he doesn’t respond, his sharp eyes studying you with quiet intensity. Then, the corners of his lips lift in the faintest hint of a smile—a rare gesture from the ever-composed Lord of Lothlórien. His gaze flickers with subtle amusement as he tilts his head slightly. Celeborn calmly, with a touch of humor. ”Perhaps some mysteries are better left unsolved.” His voice, smooth and rich like a stream gliding over polished stones, carries the faintest undertone of mischief. He clasps his hands behind his back, watching you with that infuriatingly composed expression, as if he knows exactly what he’s doing.

𖣂 Not one to back down, you step closer, your smile turning into a confident grin. “Oh, don’t be shy. I’m very good at solving puzzles. Especially handsome ones.” He lets out a soft chuckle, the sound low and rare, like a secret shared in the stillness of the woods. His eyes meet yours, holding your gaze with a quiet intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. For a moment, his hands shift slightly, as if he’s about to reach for the clasps of his robe. Celeborn with a playful glint in his eye. “You’re certain you’re prepared? Unraveling a mystery often leads to more questions than answers.” For a heartbeat, you freeze, caught off guard by the sudden flicker of teasing in his voice. His fingers hover near the clasp of his elegant robes, and you swear there’s a flicker of humor in his otherwise serene expression. Then, just as quickly, he lowers his hands again, his composure fully restored, as though he’s never broken it.

𖣂 Celeborn with a quiet smirk. “But I fear you’ll have to be content with the mystery for now.” Your jaw drops slightly, and he watches your reaction with subtle amusement, clearly pleased with his ability to turn the tables. His serene demeanor may have returned, but there’s a sparkle in his eyes now—a rare glimpse of the playful side hidden beneath his reserved exterior. You laughing, shaking your head. “You’re good, I’ll give you that. But don’t think this means I’m giving up. I’ll unravel you yet, Lord Celeborn.” His gaze softens, his smile lingering just long enough to make your heart flutter before he speaks again “Persistence can be a virtue. Perhaps, in time, you may find the answers you seek. Until then… I shall enjoy watching you try.” With that, he turns, his silver hair catching the light as he walks away with the same composed grace that drives you both intrigued and infuriated. You can’t help but grin to yourself, already planning your next move.

👑𝓖𝓲𝓵-𝓰𝓪𝓵𝓪𝓭

First one

🜲 You leaning casually against one of the smooth marble pillars of Gil-galad’s study, your posture relaxed yet deliberate. A mischievous glint dances in your eyes as you tilt your head slightly, watching him pour over a parchment with that signature air of kingly focus. Your voice cuts through the serene quiet, light and teasing, deliberately challenging the stillness of the room. “Is it exhausting being the High King of the Noldor? All that responsibility, all those admirers…”

🜲 Gil-galad His quill pauses mid-stroke, hovering above the parchment as the corners of his lips twitch ever so slightly. He doesn’t respond right away, instead straightening slowly, his head tilting with an expression that borders on amused curiosity. His sharp blue-gray eyes flick up to meet yours, and for a moment, he studies you as though he’s weighing the best course of action. With quiet deliberation, he sets the quill down and moves the parchment aside. His gaze lingers, his regal composure softening just enough to betray a flicker of playfulness. Finally, his lips curve into a small, knowing smile—a smile that feels rare and deliberate, as though meant just for you. “The burden is lighter than it seems.” You pushing off the pillar, your steps slow and deliberate as you cross the room toward him. The marble floor cool beneath your feet echoes faintly with each step, but your focus is entirely on him. Your voice drops slightly, playful and edged with a hint of challenge, your eyes locked onto his as you draw closer. “Good. Wouldn’t want you too tired to pay attention to me.”

🜲 Gil-galad His smile widens slightly, though it remains subtle, restrained. He’s a king accustomed to holding himself in check, to hiding emotions beneath layers of composure, yet the faint glimmer in his eyes reveals far more than words could. He leans back in his chair with deliberate elegance, folding his hands in his lap as though truly considering your words. For a brief moment, he remains silent, allowing the weight of his gaze to settle on you, his expression one of thoughtful amusement. When he speaks, his voice is low and smooth, steady as always but carrying a faint undercurrent of dry humor. “I fear that might be the greatest burden of all,” he muses, his tone calm yet laced with subtle warmth, “To balance the weight of my duties with the demands of someone as… captivating as you.”

🜲 You laughing softly, the sound light and genuine, unable to resist the warmth blooming in your chest at his carefully chosen words. You feel your cheeks flush despite yourself, though you try to mask it with an exaggeratedly skeptical glance. “So you do pay attention, after all.” Gil-galad His gaze softens, and for a moment, the High King standing before you seems more man than monarch. There’s something deeply personal in the way he watches you now, the faintest trace of warmth lingering behind the carefully composed exterior he so often wears. Rising from his chair, he moves toward you with the measured grace of a ruler, each step deliberate, each movement carrying an unshakable authority. And yet, as he closes the distance between you, there’s a subtle shift in his demeanor—a slight easing of the ever-present weight on his shoulders. He stops just a pace away, his posture relaxed yet still commanding.

🜲 “I could hardly afford not to,” he replies smoothly, his voice quieter now, edged with sincerity. “You have a way of ensuring no one forgets your presence.” You crossing your arms, your lips quirking into a playful smile as you tilt your head, pretending to study him with exaggerated seriousness. Your tone takes on an air of mock suspicion as you raise an eyebrow. “Was that a compliment or an accusation?” Gil-galad A low chuckle escapes him, the sound deep and warm, carrying the kind of richness that feels rare, a private melody meant only for you. His usual stoic mask cracks slightly, replaced by an expression of quiet amusement. He leans in just enough to close the space between you, his voice lowering to a tone reserved only for these rare moments—intimate, yet measured in its affection. “Whichever pleases you more, my heart.” As his words hang in the air, there’s a quiet sincerity beneath the teasing tone, a depth to his gaze that speaks volumes more than he says aloud. His presence, as always, is commanding, but in this moment, it feels as though the weight of his kingship has been set aside, leaving only the man beneath.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Second one

🜲 You leaning back against the edge of the grand oak desk in Gil-galad’s study, your fingers lightly brushing the polished surface as you fix him with a teasing smile. The golden light of the setting sun filters through the tall arched windows, casting a warm glow over the room. Your tone is light, playful, but edged with a challenge as you let your words hang in the air for a moment. “Do you always get your way, High King? Or is that just with the elves?”

🜲 Gil-galad Seated across the room, his tall frame is poised in his chair, one leg crossed over the other with effortless elegance. He has been reviewing a series of maps and reports, but at your words, he pauses. His sharp blue-gray eyes lift to meet yours, a flicker of amusement dancing in their depths. The faintest trace of a smile tugs at the corner of his lips, one of those rare, restrained smiles that carry far more meaning than they let on. Setting the map aside, he leans back slightly, his hands resting lightly on the armrests of the chair, his tone calm but laced with playful humor. “I like to think my influence speaks for itself.” You pushing off the desk, you take a slow step toward him, your eyes sparkling with mischief. Your voice drops just slightly, a touch more challenging now, as though daring him to rise to the bait. “Mm, I’m not so easily influenced. Care to try your luck?”

🜲 Gil-galad His expression shifts subtly, the amusement in his eyes deepening as his smile widens just a fraction—a small, almost imperceptible gesture, but one that carries a quiet confidence. He remains seated, perfectly composed, though there’s a distinct shift in his demeanor now, an energy that feels both commanding and utterly unhurried. His gaze never wavers from yours, as though he’s assessing you with the same precision he would an opponent on the battlefield. When he speaks, his voice is smooth, steady, and just a little too calm, as though he’s already several moves ahead in the game. “You underestimate me,” he says, his tone light but carrying a faint, teasing edge. “I’ve persuaded kings, warriors, and even dwarves to see things my way. Convincing you, I suspect, will be far more rewarding.”

🜲 You laughing softly, you step closer still, your hands coming to rest lightly on the back of the chair he’s seated in. You lean forward just slightly, close enough now that you can see the fine details of his features—the faint lines of wisdom and wear, the undeniable sharpness of his gaze. Your tone is playful, but there’s a spark of genuine curiosity beneath it as you tilt your head “Rewarding? Now I’m intrigued. What makes me such a challenge, Your Majesty?” Gil-galad For a moment, he allows the silence to linger, his gaze fixed on you with a kind of quiet intensity. His fingers drum lightly against the armrest of his chair before he finally stands, his movements smooth and deliberate. Rising to his full height, he steps closer, closing the distance between you with a measured confidence that feels almost magnetic. His voice lowers slightly, though it remains as composed and calm as ever, the weight of his presence filling the room. “Because you’ve already decided not to make it easy for me,” he says, his tone laced with a warmth that hints at the depth of his amusement. He leans in just enough to meet your gaze directly, the faintest trace of a smirk playing on his lips. “And something tells me you enjoy watching me try.”

🜲 You grinning, your heart skipping a beat at the way his voice dips just enough to send a thrill through you. You lean back slightly, folding your arms as though to regain the upper hand, though the glint in your eyes betrays your delight. “Well, you’re not wrong. But you’ll need to do better than charm if you want to win me over.” Gil-galad Chuckling softly, the sound low and velvety, he straightens, his posture once again effortlessly regal but with a relaxed air that makes him seem a touch more human. His gaze remains steady, filled with that same quiet confidence that somehow manages to disarm you without him needing to say another word. Finally, he tilts his head slightly, his tone light but edged with unmistakable challenge. “Then I’ll just have to prove that my charm isn’t the only weapon in my arsenal.” There’s a moment of tension, warm and playful but charged with the kind of energy that leaves you breathless. As the silence stretches between you, his expression softens just slightly, the teasing fading into something deeper—more genuine. His next words, when they come, are softer, more sincere. “But I think you already know that, don’t you?” Would you like to expand on this dynamic further or explore their growing connection?

🍷𝓣𝓱𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓾𝓲𝓵

First one

𐂂 “Is it a requirement for Woodland Kings to look this good, or are you just an overachiever?” The moment the words leave your lips, Thranduil’s gaze sharpens, his sharp features softening just slightly as his eyes lock onto yours. There’s a quiet intensity in his expression, like a king accustomed to being admired yet intrigued by your boldness. He stands tall and unshakable, draped in the finest silks and delicate leathers that reflect the light of the dim torches around him, his crown—woven from intricate threads of ivy and moonstone—sitting like a regal crown atop his silvery hair. Every inch of him seems to radiate an ethereal, otherworldly charm, and you can feel the weight of his presence even before he speaks. He takes a slow, measured step closer to you, the long folds of his cloak trailing behind him, creating a slight rustle that adds to the tension of the moment. His gaze remains steady and unwavering as he tilts his head slightly to the side, lips curling into a smile that is both knowing and a touch condescending, but with a flicker of something more—amusement, perhaps, or even admiration.

𐂂 “It is my duty to embody the finest qualities of my people,” he replies, his voice as smooth and velvety as the finest elven fabric, laced with a sense of quiet authority. His eyes glint with the centuries of wisdom he carries, as if every word spoken is as deliberate as the actions of a seasoned ruler. The corners of his mouth twitch upward as he watches you, clearly amused by the impish challenge in your tone. His presence fills the space, and the air seems to thrum with an ancient energy, a reminder of the weight of his lineage and the depth of his experience. Yet, his response is not one of arrogance, but of confidence—Thranduil is not a man who feels the need to boast because his actions speak louder than any words ever could. You find your heart skip a beat, even as you try to maintain your composure. Thranduil doesn’t break eye contact as he waits for your next move, and you can tell that he’s enjoying this back-and-forth. “And here I thought your finest quality was making my heart race. My mistake.” The words leave your lips with just a hint of teasing, and the moment they do, Thranduil’s smile deepens, the cool elegance of his demeanor shifting, ever so slightly, into something more playful. His eyes narrow, but it’s not in a way that suggests offense—it’s a look of someone who’s been caught off guard but enjoys the challenge.

𐂂 He takes another step closer, his height making you feel small, but not uncomfortable—more like a willing subject in a game with a ruler who knows all the rules. His voice, when it comes, is low, warm, and rich with amusement. “Your heart races, you say?” His voice is almost a whisper now, a quiet challenge. His gaze flickers down to your lips before returning to your eyes, and for a moment, he seems to enjoy the effect he’s having on you. “I suppose it’s not entirely unexpected. I am, after all, a king. Kings tend to have that effect on those in their presence.” You feel a warmth rise to your cheeks, but you hold his gaze, refusing to show any sign of retreat. Thranduil leans in just slightly, his proximity sending a quiet, almost imperceptible thrill through your body. His hand rests lightly on the back of his throne, the fingers elegant and graceful, a reminder that every movement of his is deliberate, every action measured.

𐂂 “But I wonder,” he continues, his eyes now twinkling with a mix of mischief and intrigue, “how much longer your heart will race, once you realize the full measure of the danger in such words.” It’s a teasing warning, yet you can’t help but feel the pull of his presence—the way his every word seems to carry weight, but still, there’s a softness behind it, a reminder that despite his regal persona, there’s more to him than just the king. There’s a man, a father, a warrior, who’s just as capable of feeling as he is of ruling. He straightens, his posture as dignified as ever, though the smile still lingers on his lips—one that tells you this game is far from over. The flicker of warmth in his eyes betrays that, despite his cool exterior, you’ve captured his attention in a way few others have.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Second one

𐂂 “You’re so tall and elegant, Thranduil. How do you manage to stay grounded with all that perfection?” Thranduil’s eyebrows arch slightly, and a knowing smirk tugs at the corners of his lips. He leans back in his throne, one arm draped elegantly over the armrest, his fingers idly brushing the stem of a goblet. His piercing, ice-blue eyes sweep over you with the air of someone both amused and intrigued, as though he’s indulging in a game he didn’t expect to find entertaining “I do not concern myself with trivialities,” he replies, his voice smooth as the finest elven wine, laced with a soft, amused edge. There’s a flicker of challenge in his gaze, as though daring you to continue this line of conversation.

𐂂 You take a step closer, emboldened by the faintest twitch of his smirk. The warmth of the dim torchlight flickers against the intricate carvings of the throne room, but nothing compares to the heat that rises to your cheeks under his penetrating gaze. “Oh, I don’t know,” you say, tilting your head and letting your own smirk bloom across your lips. “I think you should concern yourself with me.” For the briefest moment, a flicker of surprise crosses his features, though he recovers quickly, tilting his head ever so slightly to regard you with renewed interest. The playful amusement in his eyes deepens, like sunlight glinting off the sharp edge of a blade. “Should I?” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a lower register, laced with feigned indifference. Yet, the faint curl of his lips betrays his curiosity. “And why, pray tell, should I entertain such… boldness?” His words are clipped, deliberate, but there’s no mistaking the hint of a challenge—an invitation for you to prove yourself worthy of his attention. His gaze is steady, unflinching, and yet you can sense that beneath the stoic façade, you’ve intrigued him in a way he finds both unexpected and irresistible.

𐂂 You draw closer, your confidence unwavering. “Because, my king,” you say, holding his gaze as if you were his equal, “perfection such as yours deserves to be admired by someone who knows how to appreciate it… thoroughly.” For a long moment, there’s silence in the room, save for the faint rustle of the forest beyond the stone walls. His expression is unreadable, save for the faintest narrowing of his eyes, and the flicker of a grin that he doesn’t quite suppress. “It seems,” he says slowly, his voice laced with wry amusement, “that you possess the audacity of a dwarf and the finesse of an elf. A most… peculiar combination.”

𐂂 You laugh softly, undeterred. “I suppose it’s only fitting, my king. One must be bold to catch your attention.” He leans forward slightly in his throne, the golden light catching in the silver strands of his hair and illuminating his face like a carved statue brought to life. The faintest flicker of warmth touches his otherwise icy demeanor as he studies you. “Consider it caught,” he says finally, his voice smooth as silk, though the subtle arch of his brow reminds you that he will not be easily won. “But beware, little mortal. Tread lightly, lest you find yourself entangled in matters far beyond your comprehension.” And yet, the faintest smile plays on his lips, an unspoken promise that he finds the prospect of this game far more entertaining than he cares to admit.

[sorcerousundries]

Lalala vs okokok with lotr and the hobbit

Your the lalala, they’re the okokok

Thorin, Fíli, Aragorn, thranduil, Elrond, Arwen, bilbo, gimli, Sam, Éomer, Glorfindel, Bard, Beorn, glóin, Tauriel, Faramir, Boromir, Haldir, Bifur, Dwalin, Balin, Dori, óin, Galadriel

They’re the lalala, your the okokok

Legolas, Frodo, merry, pippin, Éowyn, kíli, celeborn, also Arwen, Lindir, bombur, ori, nori, bofur, meludir

[kat651]

elves having sensitive ears (pt 2)

Celeborn:

he slumped into a seat and ran his fingers through his long white hair, pushing it out of his face as he let out a long sigh and looked down at the document in his hands, scanning the content.

Celeborn pushed his hair from his face again and it fell and he sighed, clearly he’d had a long day.

his hair continued to fall in his face, agitating him more and more. You chucked and walked over, pulling his hair out of his face before becoming mesmerized by the softness.

Celeborn glanced at you before looking back at the document. You smiled and tucked his hair behind his ear, causing him to drop the document and grab your wrists gently.

“y/n, the ears of and elf are far more sensitive than you could ever imagine…”

your face heated up. “I’m sorry!”

Celeborn gave you a soft smile. “I never said I didn’t like it…”

Haldir:

you came up behind him as he was sharpening his sword, this was the only time you could ever catch him off his guard.

you pulled the hair from his face and placed a kiss on his cheek.

you watched his lips go into an o shape before he fixed his composure. “I assume your prepared for war then?”

“war? Why are you always so seriou-” next thing you knew you where in his lap, his lips on yours and sword long forgotten.

“if anyone sees me like this, I’ll never live it down…” he mumbled as he fell onto his back in the soft grass, tour lips still on his.

your arms went around his neck, getting lost on his hair. Your lips left his and blazed a trail up his jaw until you reached his pointed ear, nipping at it playfully. he grabbed the back of your shirt in two fistfuls and let out a whine that he tried to suppress.

you knew instantly that you’d found his weak spot and planed on using it against him when needed.

pt one here

[master-muffinn]

You have a life too

It was a lovely July morning. You were with your boyfriend, hand in hand and walked through the green forest, which was filled with insects and flowers. You two finally had some free time and you chose to spend it together. Talking a little now and then about what the other had done to not miss out on anything important.

But then you see a bird and it flies up to you. You automatically hold out your hand for it to sit on. It has a letter for you. You let go of your boyfriend's hand and the bird flies away after you take the letter. 

Dear y/n. Meet me at ‘The Prancing Pony’ on Sunday evening at 7 o'clock.  From your dear friend, Gandalf.

You looked at the letter with disgust and irritation. You knew exactly what this is about. Gandalf had promised a stranger that you would come help them without talking to you about it first and expected you to come without questioning it.

You are smart, wise and a great fighter, but you had a really hard time to say ‘no’ when people ask you for help which back then perhaps was good because it’s the right thing to do, but now it starting to get out of hand and it felt like people took your help for granted. Like, you had a life too!

You looked at your boyfriend who already seemed to know what the letter was about. 

“Gandalf ‘again’?” he said and sighed when you nodded.

You looked back at the letter “I am really tired of Gandalf making promises without talking to me first”

“I know, me too”

You looked back at your boyfriend with pleading eyes. “I really don’t want to go, but I don't know how to tell him! Can you help me come up with a good excuse to not go that Gandalf has no other choice but to accept?!”

He thought for a while, looking around his surroundings like it could maybe help him get any useful ideas. He then put his hand in his pocket and a shy smile came to his lips. He took a step closer to you and looked you straight in the eyes with a loving gaze. 

“I have been thinking about doing this for a while but never had a good opportunity, so maybe this is the best time to do it” 

You move your head to the side and raise an eyebrow not understanding what he meant.

He took out a small box from his pocket, went down with one knee and opened the box with a beautiful ring inside. “Do you want to marry me? We have been together for years now and I can't see myself with anyone else but you! You are like the other half of my heart that I can't live without. I would love nothing more than to have you by my side in the rest of our life!”

You just stood stupidly in shock with your mouth and eyes wide open, but you quickly collected yourself, dropped the letter and threw yourself over him with a big embrace. “I would love to!” You said.

Dear Gandalf. I have to decline your request. You have to ask someone else for help from now on. I will get married soon and I wish to spend all my time and life with my love. From your dear friend, Y/n.

^Bilbo (he knows what you going though lol), Thranduil, Haldir, Celeborn, Feren, Elrond, Thorin, Boromir, Aragorn, Theoden, Bard, Dwalin, Dain, Eomer, Saruman

[ragingbookdragon]

I Will Love You Until The End Of The Ages

Haldir of Lothlórien x Reader

Word Count: 4.4K Warnings: None

Author's Note: Yeah...this kinda got away from me but I love this fucking elf just as much as I love Lindir so, have him <3 -Thorne

**********************************************************************

An ache spread through her body as she sprinted through the forest, wide-eyed and terrified. She’d barely managed to escape the carnage of her guards being slaughtered, only to be spotted by a rogue orc who’d alerted the others of her escaping. It would not have taken a master to understand exactly what they were going to do to her if they caught her. The thought only pushed her forward as she continued to run, trying her best to hop over logs and bushes in her way.

She’d fallen more than a few times, tripped over hidden tree roots, her shoes fallen off somewhere, feet bleeding from stepping on sharp stones and branches. Her dress had torn from slipping between large rocks to give distance, caught on sharp rose thorns, her legs and arms were cut up beyond belief, fabric strew down her chest, shoulder exposed, but she forbid herself from stopping. The elves of Lothlórien couldn’t have been farther than another mile, but she wasn’t fit for battle, or such bodily exertions and it was taking its toll.

She was practically unable to breathe as she huffed and puffed with raggedness. She could make it. All she had to do was keep going and she’d be upon Lothlórien. They would help her, or at least kill the orcs. If they killed her too, so be it, but at least she wouldn’t die before being defiled. She could make it, she could make it, she could—

A gasp escaped her as her foot caught under a raised root and she hit the ground, elbow burying itself into her side as she hit the ground—hard. The air was knocked from her lungs, and she wheezed as she rolled onto her side, crawling on the ground, trying to get to her feet, but her legs wouldn’t cooperate with her. She could hear them getting closer, their war cries only sealing her fate.

Tears flooded her eyes and as her lungs began to take in air, she hoarsely cried, “He—lp!” she pulled herself towards a tree. “Help!”

She turned, seeing the orcs come upon her and gathered in a half circle, snarling and salivating; tears streamed down her cheeks and though it made no difference she begged, “Mercy. Please, mercy.”

One of them reached for head and she recoiled, screaming bloody murder, her screeches startling the birds from the trees, then an arrow pierced the orc reaching for her and none had a moment to even react before a hail of them rained down. The orcs fell dead, gurgling on black blood and she twisted her head as she saw flashes of gray.

A group of elves appeared, and one knelt beside her. “Are you alright?”

She could barely see him through the tears in her eyes, but his blue eyes shown with a kindness; she reached forward, fumbling for the front of his armor and the second she connected with it, she burst into sobs and cradled herself against him. As if not used to such contact, he awkwardly patted her back before looking towards the elves of his guard and muttering something in his native tongue.

He continued to kneel with her until her sobs eased and she began to go slack against him; when he felt her go completely still, he pulled away slightly, catching sight of her unconscious expression. Pulling her a bit closer, he brought her into his arms and hefted her up with ease and turned his back on the carnage of the dead orcs before following the group deeper into the forest.

***

The air was clear, crisp, the scent of nature filling her lungs as she came to, the veil of night, stars, and the moon shining through the open arch of the window. She blinked, unsure of where she was but before she moved, someone said, “It would not be wise to move. Your wounds are still fresh.”

Startled, she twisted her head, seeing the same elf that had rescued her standing at the door. “Where…where am I?”

He shifted from the door and walked over, taking a seat beside her. “Lothlórien. My patrol heard commotion and your screams.” He gave her an awfully funny look, almost like she was an idiot—she did not like it in the slightest. “Why would you travel between Moria and Dol Goldur? All know it’s unsafe for travel for even the most experience of fighters.”

“The road we usually took had washed out from the rainstorm months ago. We had no choice.”

He cocked a brow. “Why are you travelling?”

She let out a sigh. “Gondor has called the lords of the land from their cities and towns. I am the only living heir to the lord of my land. It was my duty to go and represent my home.” He only made a noise in his throat, a low hum, and she looked at him. “What is your name, so I may thank you properly?”

“Haldir,” he answered. “I am Haldir of Lothlórien.”

“I owe you my life, Haldir of Lothlórien. Whatever you desire, if it is within my capabilities, please only speak it and I shall have it sent for immediately.”

“I find that difficult as your entire party is dead. There is no one to send away.” He immediately found his words too callous as her expression split into grief and she looked away. “I…I apologize. My words were uncalled for.”

“No,” she countered, shaking her head, tears falling down her cheeks. “They are dead, and it is all my fault.” She reached up, wiping her face. “Please forgive me for being so emotional.”

“You are in grieving,” Haldir replied. “There is no shame in expressing such emotion.” He gazed at her. “What is your name?”

She met his gaze, and he felt an awfully funny flutter at the sight of her saddened expression, dewy lashes, and full lips. “I am (Y/N) of Wintergrave. The city to the northwest, just above Emyn Uial and east of the Blue Mountains.”

Haldir tipped his head, bringing a hand to his chest. “I welcome you, Lady (Y/N).”

“Oh, thank you,” she replied, sitting up with a grimace to try and offer the same gesture, though she let out a gasp as something in her side felt like it was splitting.

He gently rose from his seat, pushing her shoulder back down to the bedding. “I have already told you, it is not wise to move. Your wounds are still very fresh.”

“Forgive me,” she whispered. “I just wanted to extend the same kindness you have given me.”

“If you wish to, not harming yourself would be a good start.”

She cracked a smile and laid her head back onto the pillow. “Thank you, Haldir.”

He offered her a polite look. “I shall return with a healer. You should rest.”

“Yes, of course.”

***

Word had been sent back to Wintergrave of their Lady’s untimely run-in with the orcs, the bodies of her men had as well been prepared and sent back for burial. She’d met with Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, expressing many apologies for imposing on them as such. The two elves had found it rather odd that a human who’d been saved and given sanctuary was so apologetic and felt like such a burden for it. Of course, Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn had given her more than enough relief and allowed her to stay as long as she needed to recover her strength. The Lady of Lothlórien had even met with her in her room and spoke of the horrors of the orcs and how nightmarish the mind could become after such an attack—she’d expressed to (Y/N) that she could stay until she felt fit to travel and when it was then time, Lady Galadriel would have a group of Marchwardens accompany her to Gondor. (Y/N) had cried and thanked her profusely for her kindness, also extending the same offer that she’d given to Haldir, if Lady Galadriel had ever needed anything all she had to do was speak it.

When she’d finally been able to move without pain from her wounds, which had been many—bruised and cut up feet, legs, and arms, even a rather severe cut along her cheek that was more than likely going to scar—she had taken to exploring what was allowed of Lothlórien that she could. Lady Galadriel had, instead of giving her a lady-in-waiting, assigned Haldir to watch over her, given leave to stay in Lothlórien for some time.

She was rather surprised to see him when she was sitting under one of the great arched platforms, sipping a flavored fruit tea that she only assumed grew in the land here. She had the teacup raised to her lips, watching the fireflies lighting up the night when someone appeared in her peripheral, scaring her half to death.

Jumping, she tried not to spill her tea as she set the cup down and looked up, seeing Haldir standing there, surprisingly with no armor like he usually wore. “Haldir,” she greeted with a smile. “You scared me half to death. Do you not know it is impolite to sneak up on someone, let alone a lady?”

“Apologies,” he said but he didn’t sound too apologetic. “Light feet are something not so easily forgotten when taught since birth.” He gestured to the seat across from her. “May I?”

“Oh, yes! Please!” she chirped, already pouring a cup of tea for him. “Lady Galadriel has been so kind to allow me to stay here in Lothlórien. But I fear I may be overstaying.”

“While it is odd for a human to stay for long periods of time, her ladyship isn’t one to force an innocent to leave.” He picked up his cup. “She has allowed you to stay until you feel ready for leave.”

“Yes,” she agreed, once more looking out. “I almost do not wish to leave Lothlórien though.”

“You do not?”

“Of course not. This place is ethereal. The people even more so.” She looked back at him. “I’ve always found elves so fascinating. Such long periods of life, so graceful and elegant, a beautiful culture and history.” A small, almost embarrassing smile came across her face. “Do not tell anyone I said this, but I’ve always tried to emulate such grace and elegance. To be wise and respectful like such.”

Haldir gazed at her for a long moment—he’d not met many humans who were so modest and ungreedy like (Y/N) was, it was almost refreshing to find such a human. “I’ve not met many humans like you,” he said before he thought about it and his cheeks warmed when she looked at him with surprise.

“Like me?”

He cleared his throat. “I meant, kind and respectful. Many humans are greedy and disrespectful. Loud…and abrasive.”

She frowned. “Yes, my fellow men can often be swayed by earthly desires instead of their honor.” She met his gaze. “I hope I have offered some amnesty on that part. Or perhaps a better view of what some of us can be.”

“You have,” he answered, sipping his tea before he said anything else more foolish.

(Y/N) inhaled and exhaled, as if the world was no longer on her shoulders. “Haldir, what would you be doing if you were not called to be a Marchwarden?”

He blinked in surprise—he’d never given much thought to it. “I…I confess I do not know. Being a Marchwarden is all I have ever known. Even my brothers are such.”

She perked up at that. “You have brothers!” her face split in joy. “Oh, what is it like? I was a lone child to my parents.”

Haldir suddenly went monotone as he replied, “Annoying. My brothers are…quite a handful even on the best days.” A laugh escaped her, and she covered her mouth to hide the giggles and Haldir found himself smiling along with her; when she had calmed, he asked, “What of you, Lady (Y/N)? If you were not the Lady of Wintergrave, what would you be doing?”

“I think…I think I would be a writer,” she answered. “I have always loved listening and telling stories. My mother used to tell me I spent more time with my nose in books than I did learning about how to govern my people.” She felt her cheeks warm, and she glanced at the reflection in her cup. “Stories…allowed me to immerse myself into the freedom I did not have a child.”

“You were not free?”

“I was lonely…and without many friends. Though my people look after one another, there is still a divide in the classes. My family wasn’t detached per say, but we weren’t in constant contact with the common people.” She seemed almost forlorn as she murmured, “My only friends were the heroes in the stories I read.” Almost as if her sadness wasn’t there, she smiled and admitted, “I used to imagine that the heroes were with me in daily life. I would talk to them in my mind and go through life with their council.”

Haldir smiled, but it was rather sad. “I’m sorry that you did not have a friend to call your own as a child, Lady (Y/N).”

Her eyes were kind as she nodded. “Thank you, Haldir.” Taking a leap of faith, she smiled at him. “Perhaps it is lucky that I can call you, a friend now.”

“Indeed.” He smiled back at her, and her heart fluttered at it.

***

“Mae.”

“Mae.”

“G’ovan.”

“G’ovan.”

“Nen.”

“Nen.”

“Good. Now together. Mae g’ovannen.”

“Mae go-oven.”

Haldir let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. “That wasn’t even close.”

“It was too!” (Y/N) retorted.

“How on earth did you turn g’ovannen to go-oven?” his expression pinched. “It doesn’t even make any sense.”

She scowled at him and retorted, “I asked you to teach me elvish, not begrudge me.”

“Well, I would teach you my tongue if yours could work properly enough to speak it.”

A huff escaped her. “You are most rude, Haldir. So mean to a kind lady.”

He narrowed his eyes at her and pointed. “You are anything but kind.”

“I take great offense to that.”

“As you should.”

She glared at him, and he her until their scowls gave way to humored smiles and they laughed, leaning on one another.

“Perhaps a break is in store for us,” Haldir suggested, and she nodded, rising from her seat.

“I think that is a splendid idea, lest we begin screaming at one another in our native tongues.”

Haldir held out his arm and she took it, letting him escort her to their usual tea spot. As they sat down, a few elves decorated the table with a teapot and two cups along with sweet cookies for them. “Ni ‘lassui En,” Haldir murmured with a nod, and she smiled at them, tipping her head.

“Thank you!”

As he poured their cups, she gazed at him, taking in the sight of the elf at peace. He was rather handsome. Long, beautiful blonde hair, strong nose and jaw, gorgeous blue eyes. She couldn’t deny an attraction to him, but that was just physical. Haldir was a good man. Loyal, honorable, kind, and fiercely protective of his home and those he loved.

“Is there something on my face?”

She blinked, cheeks warming, and she looked down. “No, my apologies for staring.”

“I am not offended,” he simply answered and turned the plate, offering the strawberry tart.

“How did you—”

“You always eat them first when they are offered.”

“I…” she smiled. “I wasn’t aware you were paying such attention.”

Haldir’s cheeks tinted crimson, and he cleared his throat. “Yes, well, it is good to make notice of your surroundings and what others engage in.”

“Uh huh,” she answered cheekily, smiling through his attempt at a scowl; she sipped her tea, asking, “Have you heard word of the Fellowship lately?”

“They are traveling to Isengard.” He looked grim. “I have not heard such great news if I am entirely honest.”

Her expression turned solemn, and she reached forward, placing a hand on his. “Whatever happens, I know you will do what I right by honor, Haldir.”

He looked at her, gently turning his hand up to gently thumb at her wrist. “I confess, (Y/N), I have come to enjoy our time together. These last few months have been…the greatest joy I’ve come to know.”

“As have I, Haldir,” she replied softly. “I do believe at this point I have entirely overstayed my welcome, but I find that when I am making a mind to leave…you, come to my mind.”

“Truly?”

She swallowed thickly and admitted, “I confess to you, Haldir, I…” she let out a sigh and steeled her nerves. “I am withholding feelings for you. In fact, every time I see and speak to you, my feelings only nurture.” She suddenly felt so exposed and rose from her seat, walking to the rail, gazing out at the nighted forest. “I know it is unwise to feel this way for you. You, an immortal, and me, a mortal. It is doomed from start to finish.” Her expression turned dejected. “Still though, I cannot feel the desire to remove you from my heart. You have stolen it.”

She waited for rejection, for laughter, for disbelief. Anything, but when his hand came to her lower back and he took her chin in his other hand, turning her face to him, she was surprised to see a look of fondness on it.

“Haldir…?”

He tipped his head down, lips brushing hers as he whispered, “Lady (Y/N), might I bestow a kiss to you?”

“I…please,” she pleaded, shutting her eyes and he sealed their lips, her body turning to face him as she raised her arms, hands winding around his neck as his wound around her waist.

Haldir felt his heart beating wildly in his chest, in his pulse like he was in battle, but this was so much more adrenaline-pumping than a fight. He knew she needed air, he did too, but the feeling of her lips against his made his heart soar and only when she tipped her head down, panting against his jaw, did Haldir come to the realization that he was madly in love with the woman he rescued all those months ago.

“I,” she breathed deeply. “I hope I am not naïve in assuming that this means you also feel for me?”

He took her chin in his hand again, pressing his lips to her eyelids and then her lips, once, twice, thrice, and murmured, “I would march to Mordor itself it meant you would be waiting for me.”

She giggled girlishly and shifted in his grip. “Well, you certainly know how to make a woman smile.”

“The only woman who matters.”

“Haldir…many will judge us, your people and mine, let alone the other races.”

He nodded solemnly. “Then I will declare that my love for you is endless.”

She looked up at him. “You know I will die before you…yes?”

Again, he nodded, though this time it looked as if the air had been taken from him; he took a breath. “Even so, I will love you until the end of the age.”

(Y/N) smiled up at him. “I…I love you, Haldir.”

“Melin gin,” Haldir professed, though he seemed upset.

“You are downhearted.”

He nodded. “Lord Elrond has come. I am to lead an army to Helm’s Deep and assist the fight against the orcs.”

“No…”

“I must,” he said. “It is my duty.” She frowned, tried to turn her head away but he wouldn’t let her. “Él gûr,” he murmured. “You have loved me enough to meet me in this age, love me enough to know I will come back.”

“But what if you do not?”

Haldir gazed at her, thumbing her lip. “If I do not, I want you to do your duty. I want you to find love again and live the life with someone like we wanted to.”

Tears flooded her eyes. “But I want it with you.” She grasped at his tunic. “I want that life with you, Haldir.”

“Then I will do my duty and come back to you.” He searched her gaze. “Melin gin, (Y/N).”

She felt her lips wobble, but she promised in return, “Melin gin, Haldir.”

***

Word had reached Lothlórien that many of the elves sent had fallen in battle, yet no word had ever been spoken of Haldir. It had her one pins and needles, many times seeking council with Lady Galadriel who merely listened to her worries and commanded, or urged her, to keep heart, that evil could just as easily take over a heart in grief.

She somehow managed to steel herself and when the trumpets sounded, signaling the return of the soldiers, she rushed down with many of the healers, waiting to know if her love had returned or if he had perished. She watched as soldier after soldier, the ones that had survived, passed by, yet she never saw Haldir. Her heart ached in her chest, and she hurried into the thicket of soldiers being attended to.

“Please, someone tell me where Haldir is!” she pleaded. “Has he fallen! I must know!”

Many of the elves stared at her, brows pinched like they couldn’t understand why she was so upset, but one stood among the fray and caught her attention.

“Haldir cuina.”

She shook her head. “I don’t…? I don’t understand.”

The elf frowned, gesturing around like he was searching for the word before muttering, “Life.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened, and she grasped his arms. “Haldir is alive? He lives?” The elf nodded and she laughed tearfully, relief flooding her body as she knew her love was alive.

***

It was a rather beautiful ceremony, seeing Aragorn crowned king, Arwen, his beautiful bride beside him. She stood next to the other Lords and Ladies of Middle Earth, pledging their alliance to the king. And while the ceremony was one for the memories, the feast that had come after was one for the ages.

Laughter, joy, and happy tears escaped the members of the palace, the esteemed fellowship all at the front with Aragorn and Arwen. Even Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn had shown up and she waved at them from her spot on the table, them giving knowing smiles in return. She still hadn’t seen Haldir, but no one, especially Legolas or Aragorn had yet to pull her aside and tell her otherwise, so she held out hope that they were simply missing each other at different turns in the same city.

Air called to her after many rounds of wine and ale and she was given permission to go to the ledge of the higher quarters, which she appreciated greatly, extending her thanks to the King and Queen.

(Y/N) stand at the balcony, watching the parading and partying in the street. Rebuilding would certainly come soon, but for now, the greatest evil known had been vanquished and the people would look forward to a future of happiness. She look to the heavens, closing her eyes as she said a quiet prayer to the elven Gods, that they would send Haldir to her.

As soon as she finished, she opened her eyes, and seeing something in her peripheral, spun, screeching like a bat at the scare. However, a hand slammed, carefully, against her mouth followed by, “Él gûr, be at peace. It is me!”

She blinked and gaped at Haldir, suddenly surging forward with ecstatic joy as she latched onto him. “Haldir!” she burst out.

He laughed, wrapping his arms around her. “I have come home to you, (Y/N).” She pulled away, tears in her eyes and he sighed fondly at her. “You are such a crybaby.”

“I’ve waited so long for you, my love,” she confessed in tears, struggling to wipe the seemingly endless flood of them away. “So long I waited for you to come home. On the worst nights I feared someone would tell me they found your body and I would have to go on without you.”

Haldir frowned. “I’m sorry for keeping you so long, él gûr. It was never my intention.” He gently pushed some hair behind her ear. “The war was long, and traveling was difficult. But I have held my promise to come home.”

She tipped her head to the side. “You will still have me? And a life with me? Despite the hurt in our future?”

He inhaled deeply and murmured, “I have thought long about this, (Y/N). And of all I know, I know this the best—we are never promised happiness. If we find it, especially love, we must hold tight to it and never let go.” He gazed at her. “You will inevitably die before me. But I know that however many years we get with each other, we will love and hold fast to it.” Tears dripped down her cheeks and he leaned forward, kissing them away. “Do not cry, él gûr.”

“These are tears of happiness,” (Y/N) replied with a laugh, and looked at him, taking his hands in hers. “I promise by the light of this moon, that I will love and cherish you for all of the time I am given, Haldir of Lothlórien. May the love we have bloom for ages and never die.”

Haldir leaned down and nuzzled her nose. “And I promise to you, (Y/N) of Wintergrave, that so long as I live, even when you are gone, I will remember and hold dear to the love we nurtured.” He smiled at her. “And I will love and cherish our children and teach them always of their mother who loved them more than the world.”

“We aren’t even married yet!” she spluttered, and his smile turned into a smirk.

“Are you trying to tell me that you do not wish to have a family? Él gûr, I am hurt by this.”

“That is not what I said!”

“I am fairly certain it is.”

“It is not!”

The night in Gondor was warm, joy filled the streets, love filled the hearts of the people together, hobbits, dwarves, elves, and men had once again forged a bond deeper than blood. And they all looked to a brighter future the next day—and perhaps another wedding!

[shy-blue-blossom]

Protect

Galadriel/Celeborn

Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn were expecting their first child and couldn't wait to hold them. While they were thinking of names, a close friend of theirs had a little boy of their own.

A couple of months later Galadriel had given birth to their little bundle of joy. A nurse came in holding a small bundle of blankets. The nurse went up to Galadriel and placed the bundle into her arms.

"Congratulations, m'lord and m'lady, you have a daughter." The nurse told them.

They looked at the little girl in Galadriel's arms and a smile graced their faces as they saw her sleeping.

Time skip

It had been over two thousand years since then and the little elfling is now a beautiful h/c hair and e/c eyed she-elf. Her name, y/n princess of Lothlórien.

She was reading a book when she heard a song being played for a dear friend of her mother and father.

Gandalf.

Gandalf the grey.

She stood up and made her way down to her parents and saw them talking to Haldir, their friend's son.

"Nana, Ada?" She called to them and they turned to her.

"What's the matter the Iellig?" Celeborn asked her as he walked to her. (My daughter.)

"Why are you playing a song for Gandalf?" She asked them.

Before they could answer an elf came and asked for her and she left with them, but not before kissing her parent's cheeks. As she was following the elf they showed her the gardens, as they needed her help. She thanked the elf and they left her to think of a solution. She didn't notice the elf watching her as she thought of what to do.

"It's been awhile Lady y/n." The elf spoke.

She turned around to see the prince of Mirkwood standing behind her wearing a silver tunic. A smile made its way onto her as she stood up and ran to him. He caught her and hold her tightly s he smiled.

"Meleth nin, how I have longed to see you." The elf told her while pulling back to look at her face. (My love.)

"Me too, a'maelamin Legolas." She said while smiling up at him, her eyes tearing up. (My beloved.)

When they started to fall he kissed them away with gentle pecks. They talked about what they have been doing while apart.

"Meleth nin." Legolas suddenly spoke in the silent gardens. (My love.)

"Yes?" She questioned as she looked at him.

"I am to carry on my journey and before I do, I want to marry you." Legolas started. "I have already got your parents permission, but would you spend the rest of entirety with me? Would you marry me tonight?" Legolas finished as he looked into her eyes.

All that y/n could do was nod her head as tears began to stream down her cheeks as she jumped onto his lap to hug him. Legolas wiped them away as a light voice congratulated them. When y/n turned, she saw her mother and father.

"Ada, Nana, thank you." She thanked them, as they hugged her after she had stood up to hug them.

Galadriel and Celeborn watched them get married. Once they were, they spent the night together and woke up in each other's arms.

"Be careful on the journey and come back to me." Y/n said to Legolas as she helped him get ready to leave.

"I could never leave my one on middle-earth without me next to her." He explained with her face gently in his hands.

She nodded her head as she learned into his touch, with her eyes closed. When she opened them to look up at him, he was watching her with love and admiration. He put his forehead against hers and whispered...

"Gi melin. Uuma dela, av-'Osto. Elen sila lumenn omentilmo. Na lû e-govaned vîn." Legolas told her, which made a small smile make it's way onto her face. (I love you. Don’t worry, don’t fear. A star shell shine on our next hour of meeting. Until next we meet.)

"Gi melin. Aa'menealle nauva calen ar' malta. Tenna' ento lye omenta!" She whispered back. (I love you. May your ways be green and golden. Until next we meet!)

Legolas closed the space between them and gave her a passionate kiss before leaving. When she was left alone, she nearly broke down into tears. But she did not.

Y/n didn't realise someone was knocking at her door as she was to busy inside her head. She only noticed when her father stepped into the room.

"Ada?" She looked at him confused, as he looked at her with concern. "What is the matter?" She asked.

He explained to her that she had been in her room all morning and she had missed breakfast and it was time for lunch. Before he let her leave, he asked her if there was anything wrong. She explained to him that there was nothing wrong and that she had just been thinking about what has happened over the years and yet to come. Celeborn chuckled at that and led her to her mother.

The mother and father protected their daughter and they would kept doing so until their very last breath, they set sail to the undying lands, or she was reunited with her husband.

That is what they did.

When the one ring was destroyed, they took her to Aragorn's coronation to be with her husband. Once Legolas seen her, he had ran up to her and tightly hugged her. Aragorn was introduced to her.

Galadriel, Celeborn and y/n were then told of Haldir fall in battle. Y/n had cried, since she has seen him as an older brother. Galadriel had to take her somewhere else to calm her down,

"Iellig, why are you crying? Do you think your older brother would like that?" Galadriel tried to calm her told and y/n smiled when Galadriel had said Haldir was her brother. (My daughter.)

She shook her head no, then hugged her mother.

"Gi melin, Nana." Y/n whispers to Gardens as she was hugged back. (I love you, mother.)

Soon Celeborn came and found them hugging. He hugged both of them as he kissed their heads.

"Gi melin, Ada." Y/n whispers to Celeborn. (I love you, father.)

"Gi melin, Iellig." Both Galadriel and Celeborn whispers at the same time. (I love you, my daughter.)

The end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Masterlist

[imagine-in-tolkiens-world]

[elithilanor]

Yo where’s the Celeborn thirst on this app? Like I’m not into him but I’m ace I have an excuse lol

[the-fiction-witch]

You Don't Know What You're Asking For

Media - Rings Of Power Character - Elrond Couple - Elrond X Reader Reader - Y/n (Daughter of Galadriel and Celebron, Basically taking the place of Celebrían) Rating - 15 Word Count - 3118

Elrond even to this day found immortality rather strange and somewhat uncomfortable. He watched friends age and wither while he still lingers. He watched castles turn to dust. He watched the peace he helped create be abused by whichever opportunist sought power and pride. Twenty years seemed to pass in a blink of an eye and all things seemed to fade away. But there were small joys to in immorality, the soft joy of winters end and the gentle blooms of spring, as well as the visits few and far between of those he cared for,

Today was such an occasion, the lady Galadriel was visiting, with her husband Celeborn and daughters, from their usual home of LothLorien,

He smiled, feeling his features ease into a relaxed and welcoming smile before waving towards the small party,

First to emerge was lord Celeborn, who then took the hand of his wife Galadriel to aid her down from the horse,

"My lord, it has been too many of these long years," she greeted,

Elrond gave a light laugh, "It truely has been long, too many years" he replied, returning the greeting with a bow and taking her hands, "You look as radiant as ever my lady,"

She smiled the two sharing a moment in peace after such a long friendship,

"Last I saw this place it was a barely pile of rocks and mortar," lord Celeborn laughed, "you have crafted her into a place grander than Lindon I think,"

Elrond laughed, raising one of his hands in a dismissive gesture, clearly proud of the work the elves and men of Rivendell had done, but humble enough to not openly say this at the lavish praise of his home, "I simply provided the groundwork, a place for the great people of middle earth to call home, and it bloomed into this" he replied,

"A second home for many I'm sure" Galadriel smiled just as three girls approached,

Last elrond saw them the two eldest where barely maidens, and the third didn't exist. Now three stood before him.

"May I introduce, Themyscira our youngest" she explained and the little girl no higher then a hobbit bowed in her little blue gown,

Elrond chuckled at the introduction, lowering down to kneel in front of the young maid, smiling as she bowed to him, "It is a pleasure to meet you, little one" he said, his voice warm and soft, gentle and welcoming as he took her tiny fingers into his hand giving her hand a proper little kiss,

"And of course, you will recall Mellimina" Galadriel nodded,

The last time he saw the middle daughter she was a meer child no taller then his knee, she now stood almost to his shoulder with long blonde hair like her mother in a soft yellow gown,

"It is a pleasure, my lord," Melimina bowed,

Elrond nodded remembering her as a little girl, He was surprised by how fast she'd grown and how grown up, "No need for that, mellimina" he said warmly, waving a dismissive hand, "I am simply a friend, no need for titles and formalities" he smiled taking her hand to give it a polite kiss too,

"And I'm sure you shall recall Y/n," Galadriel smiled,

And for a moment elrond was speechless, Y/n, galadriel’s eldest daughter, last he saw her she was barely a maiden coming into her own, she stood now at his shoulder, a bodythat would be a Syren call for any man, wearing a lilac gown with embroidered stars, with hair pins of silver stars gracing her locks, a elvish gem necklace around her neck,

She looks up at him with eyes like gems as she bows without a word,

Elrond stared in awe, his heart beating a little faster as he looked upon the woman who stood before him. She was not the girl he remembered, she was grown now, grown and stunning. All the air seemed to flee his lungs as he gazed into those emerald eyes, her image in front of him like a vision that he would gladly lose himself in for an eternity. He stared for a few beats, unable to speak as he returned from the trance and gave her a nod, praying to the Valar that nobody had noticed his stare or the pink hue creeping across his cheeks, he swallowed, trying desperately to regain his composure and force the words from his lips "I remember you well my lady," he smiled taking her hand and giving it a slightly prolonged kiss,

"I to recall you my lord, I admit such memories I am reminded of fondly, I hope such years have blessed you with good health since last we met?" Y/n smiled, she spoke like a proper elven lady, much like her mother

a warm, genuine smile played across elronds lips as he nodded in response. She was as poised and as elegant as he remembered, but now there was also a maturity about her, a beauty that he'd never noticed before. He would get lost in the sound of her voice had it not been for her question, "Yes- yes I am well," he replied, his mind suddenly blank as he found it near impossible to think of anything to say when he stared into those eyes of hers, he took a quiet breath, gathering his thoughts and composure as he prepared to speak. He was a powerful elf Lord and commander, and yet now, in front of this beautiful maiden all he could think of was the way her gown shone in the sunlight, the way her lips moved when she smiled and the way her necklace sparkled against her neck, "And you my lady.. you are well?" he asked, silently cursing himself at how awkward he felt in this moment. He sounded like a flustered fool, stumbling over his words

"I have been blessed by such peace," she nodded

Luckily Galadriel and Celeborn requested to prepare their room, the younger girls did also but,

“If it is all the same I would adore a walk of the Rivendell Gardens,” Y/n smiled, “The foliage this time of year is so divine,”

“Yes, yes of course I’d be happy to take you.” he nodded

Galadriel, Celeborn and the girls excused themselves, Elrond praying silently they would keep a safe distance. He turned his attention back to Y/n, now alone in the courtyard.

Elrond exhaled a breath he had been holding, a soft sound of relief, his nerves slowly fading as he smiled warmly at her and offered his arm to lead her down to the gardens, he walked slowly beside her, silently trying to come up with something to say "You've grown so much.. you were just a small girl last I saw you" he laughed softly

she smiled as they walked, her hands wrapped around his arm in a very lady like way,

"Yes, the years have been long since last we are one another. I believe it was when you came to visit lothlorien before the birth of Themescara, I was but a child then,"

"Just a small child yes," he agreed quietly, his mind wandering back to the memory. He could still picture her, running through the gardens chasing butterflies, her little dress covered in a dusting of dirt, he chuckled as a thought crossed his mind, causing him to look at the woman beside him "You did cause quite a bit of mischief as a girl"

"I suppose it is the blessing of all children, to be graced with such chaos" She smiled,

He chuckled quietly, the image of her small form tearing through the gardens still clear in his mind "Yes.. though not all children have quite the same level of chaos. I believe you were one of the worst"

"I suppose I was, but isn't that the job of a first born?" She laughed

he laughed with her, shaking his head and looking down at the ground, "No, my sweetling, the job of the first born child is to be a good example, good role to their younger siblings, not to cause chaos" he teased gently, his voice soft and warm

she softly blushed "I know, I straightened up of course, for my sister's and for the people of lothlorien,"

he smiled down at her, seeing the blush that had risen to her soft cheeks. He felt a strange flutter in his stomach, butterflies that he had not felt before, as he looked at her face. He swallowed a lump in his throat, his thoughts racing as he desperately tried to find something to say, "Of course.. and look at you now, such a proper elvish lady" he teased gently

"I do my best" she smiled "… Father says he must take me to Lindon" she said rather sadly

he felt a pang in his heart as she spoke, a soft frown on his face. "To lindon… why?" he asked, his voice quiet and sad. The idea of losing sight of her again, being unable to see her or speak with her left a sour feeling in his chest.

"To formally present me to the elven court, and the high king." She nodded "as daughter of lady galadriel and lord celeborn, I am to be formally presented at court, so I may be wed to a high elven lord" she explained sadly

his heart clenched at the sound of the last part of her words, a cold feeling forming in his chest and a bitter taste in his mouth. His mind filled with cruel images of her being courted by high elven lords, her gentle laugh heard in the halls when she smiled at some young commander, her arm linked with another mans. It filled him with a strange mixture of anger and sadness. he tried his hardest to keep the anger he felt from showing in his voice "So.. you will be wed"

"I must do what my father commands of me"

he felt the words like a stab to his heart, a deep sadness filling the place where the anger had been. He had held her as a child, watched her grown into woman and now, after all these long years he was so close to losing her again "You could refuse" he said suddenly, his grip on her arm tightening. He stopped and pulled her to a halt, forcing her to face him

"I do not wish to upset them" she said "I must do what is best for my people, must I not?"

"But it may not be best for you" he said, gripping her upper arms now, turning her body to face him. "Being wed to some commander, some high elven lord, forced to live far out in lindon, is that truly what you want?" he asked, his voice quiet and pleading

"… I want whatever will make my family happy, whatever makes my people happy, whatever brings peace and tranquility is all I desire. And if my happiness is what must be the price then … So be it"

he felt a lump form in his throat, the thought of her sacrificing her happiness for others breaking his heart. He found himself taking a step closer to her, still holding her arms firmly, his fingers gripping the soft material of her gown "You can't possibly believe that. You deserve more than that, you deserve to be happy too"

"… I gave up many happinesses in the years since you last saw me. I suppose that's part of maturity, learnt to then away from that which use to bring you such joy…"

he stared down at her, his heart wrenching in his chest at her words. Without thinking, he reached up and cupped her cheeks, his fingers on either side of her face

she gasped her lips parted,

He swallowed, looking down at her. He noticed every feature now, the way her lashes framed her eyes, the rosy pink colour of her lips, the way her hair framed the soft curves of her face "You cannot give up on yourself" he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion "you cannot just accept that you will be unhappy…"

"… If I did what I knew would make me happy, I would have been cast out years ago" she whispered "there is… So much in this world I… desire. But my own pleasure and joy is not the life of a lady… Even if I so wish it could be"

he felt her words like a physical blow, his chest aching under the weight of emotion. Every part of him longed to pull her close, to hold her against his chest and assure her he could give her whatever she desired, to kiss those soft pink lips till he had taken all the air from her lungs. But he held himself firmly in place, his hands gripping her cheeks gently "And what is it you desire my sweetling…"

Without a single word, she moved to her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his, he lips soft and tender, she smelt of lavender flowers and tasted of strawberries, her hands settling on his chest as she pulled back enough to see his eyes

he froze in shock for a moment, unable to believe the soft feeling of her lips on his. For a moment, it seemed to him that the earth had stopped turning, that the world was no longer moving. The press of her lips against his own was like a jolt of electricity that shot through his body. It took an almost painful amount of effort on his part to prevent him from wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to him, crushing her body against his in an embrace, until she pulled back and he gazed down at her, his heart racing "that.. was what you wanted?"

"mhm," she nodded her fingers playing with his clothes a little,

he exhaled a shaky breath, his mind still swirling from the feeling of her lips on his own. The way she played with the material of his clothes sent a strange shiver down his spine, and it took a lot of effort to not press her back against the nearest tree and claim her for himself he gazed down at her, unable to look away from her beautiful face, her pretty pink lips "And what else do you desire, sweetling?"

she softly bit her bottom lip and pushed his arms to entrap her waist

he let her move his hands, the feeling of the soft material of her gown under his fingers like silk as he slid his hands down to her waist. He could feel her body under the fine material, every curve of her waist and hips, and it took all of his self control to not pull her body against his, "And what else?… Tell me, sweetling" he said again, his voice thick with desire and need

"hummm I think it's your turn to tell me something you desire, my lord."

he swallowed, his hands gripping the material of her gown, taking in the feeling of her body against his palms. He wanted her. He wanted her so badly that he ached from the want of her. He wanted to hold her, feel every curve of her body, to run his hands through her hair, taste her skin.. he wanted her so badly it was like a fire in his blood he took a quiet breath, trying to control himself "You.. I desire you"

she bit her lip a little harder, and she giggled a little as he pulled her against him, squeezing their bodies together, "as so I" she whispered against his lips

he swallowed a gasp as he pulled her close to him, the feeling of her body against his own sending a shiver down his spine. He could smell the scent of lavender and it filled his mind with thoughts, of tangled legs and the sound of her soft moans. He longed desperately to run his fingers across her skin, to find every sensitive spot on her body and claim it for himself, he lifted a hand to her chin, tilting her face so they were only inches apart "How am I to keep my hands to myself if you do that"

"I do not wish you to keep them to yourself" she softly giggled

a smirk slowly formed on his face as he heard her words, his thumb caressing the soft skin of her chin as he gazed down at her, "Oh sweetling" he whispered, his heart racing, desire and need filling his body like liquid fire "you don't know what you're asking for"

"I have had years to know what I am asking…" She whispered back

he exhaled a shaky breath, closing his eyes as he tried to control himself. The feel of her body against his own was driving him insane, the sound of her voice in his ear sending his heart racing. He knew this should stop, that he should pull away from her before it was to late, before he could no longer control the fire in his blood. but her words, her breath against his ear, her body so close to his, it was like a drug that he could not resist, "You don't know what I want to do to you, sweetling"

she softly Giggled "I do not, but I'd like to know."

he felt a shiver run down his spine at the sound of her laugh, her voice like sweet music to his ears. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the soft skin of her neck, just below her ear "I want to touch you. I want to hold you… I want to bury myself in you" he whispered quietly, his voice thick with desire

she blushed hard craning her neck to allow him more space to kiss

he pressed a line of soft kisses down her neck, his hands gripping her sides as he whispered against her skin "I want to hear you moan" he purred, his voice like velvet "I want to taste you, make you come undone in my arms" he continued to kiss down her neck, his hands moving to her rear and pulling her body against his as he whispered in her ear "I want to take you to my bed and keep you there, so I can hear the lovely noises you make when I touch you"

she giggled once more as he pulled her as tight to him as possible, his hands on her ass, her chest pressed against his, heaving as she gasps desperately, "Then what is stopping you?"

he felt a shiver of pleasure run down his spine, the way her body was pressed against his own like sweet torture. Her voice in his ear, the feeling of her in his hands making his heart race, his blood burn, "Nothing." he whispered, his voice thick with need. He took her hand and pulled her towards his chambers…

[etherealeowyn]

"My heart has and always will be yours" - Haldir x Fem Reader

Y/n saves Haldir amid the Battle of Helm's Deep.

This is mostly angst, but there's a little fluff too!

Word Count: 1,754

My requests are always open, so feel free to message me if you have an idea! I'll write for any character from The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, and The Rings of Power!

This is a request for @arrowlina! I hope you like what I have written!

The moon and scattered torches were the only light that shone upon the legions of men from Rohan who courageously stood their ground at The Hornburg, located at the mouth of the gorge known as Helm’s Deep. Though they fought with their all, the masses of Uruk Hai marched towards them with only the goal of taking the position, their only fear was being defeated.

Knowing just how important this location was, Galadriel and Celeborn sent reinforcements from their lands to stop Saruman’s forces from taking control. The elves who marched to provide help knew just how dangerous their participation would be; however, the fight was understood to be more important than any of them.

Y/n bowed her head at the men she had passed, noticing the hope that had returned to their eyes as she and Haldir led the other elves from Lothlorien into the fortress. Their presence was reassuring, yet Y/n knew it was going to take much more than just them being there to secure a victory.

Haldir hardly paid any mind to the men who surrounded him. Y/n watched as his eyes remained forward, most likely running through any last-minute strategies that had hit him. He did not appear to be nervous; quite frankly, there was a content expression that laced his features.

After they met up with the other leaders, it was time for them to take their positions, for there were only mere moments until the battle would commence.

“Haldir,” Y/n started turning to the blonde elf beside her, “You must know that whatever happens during this battle, my heart has and always will be yours.”

He raised his hand slowly, caressing her face before speaking, “As is mine, I look forward to rejoicing with you when the fight is over my love.”

The pair broke up at the sound of arrows whistling through the dense night air, immediately jumping into action. Each of their actions was calculated as they shouted orders at the elven troops, maintaining a fighting style that would ensure their supplies could last for the entirety of the battle.

They were aware that a massive number of orcs would march upon Helm’s Deep, however, the sheer magnitude of their attempt to break down the walls was frightening. Images of defeat flashed through Y/n’s mind, and although she tried to push those thoughts away, fear was rising within her. But she had no time to delve into it.

When the elves' support proved useless in guarding the wall, Y/n sprinted out behind Aragorn and the others, ditching her bow for a sword, and cutting orcs down as they attempted to attack her. They came at her from every direction, causing her to duck and dodge blows aimed at her. She had no time to think about anything other than the fight at hand, for she knew even the smallest of distractions could cause her untimely death.

Though Haldir had his troubles to focus on, he maintained a close eye on his elven bride, ensuring he could get to her if need be. Not that he doubted her abilities to defend herself against the Uruk Hai, but he was aware that one could easily get overwhelmed in times like this.

Fatigue had begun to fall over the soldiers, their bodies completely and utterly drained by the immense number of orcs, and Haldir was no exception. An orc that appeared to be larger than the rest approached him, and even though Haldir tried his absolute best to attack him, he found himself relying more on defense. He held up his blade, trying to shove the orc’s weapon away from him, but despite his best efforts the orc swiftly knocked it onto the ground, leaving Haldir defenseless.

His eyes slightly widened, but he refused to let the Uruk Hai see his fear. The orc lunged forward, puncturing the elf in his abdomen, and though he was in complete and utter pain, he only let a small grunt escape his lips.

As the orc reveled in the elf’s defeat, he failed to notice Y/n who was charging at him, and in one swift movement, she jumped and lodged her sword through its heart. With anger flowing through her veins, she twisted the blade further in, staring into its eyes as she watched any sign of life drain.

Turning her attention back to Haldir, she ran over to him, and somehow, the adrenaline coursing through her body allowed her to pick him up and carry him over to an area hidden away from the rest of the battle. His head was resting in her lap as her palm pressed firmly on the wound, preventing any blood from escaping.

“I-I’m scared,” he whispered, letting a tear spill from his dark blue eyes.

“There is no need to fear anything, my love, I’m here with you now, and I won’t let anything happen to you,” Y/n spoke, masking her fear with a façade of confident reassurance.

“We can’t stay here,” Haldir noted, gesturing to where the clanking of swords and crashing of armor could be heard.

“You’re right, I need to get you out of here,” Y/n replied, thinking for a moment before her ears perked at the sound of hooves pounding against the earth.

“They’ve arrived!” a voice sounded in the distance.

“The Riders of Rohan are here!” another yelled.

“I need a horse,” she muttered to herself realizing that she would have to leave Haldir alone for a moment, even in his terrible condition.

“Haldir, I must leave you here briefly, but I promise I’ll be back. I need to get a horse so I can take you somewhere safe. There’s no way we could make it anywhere on foot,” she told him, taking the pad of her thumb and wiping away his tears.

He nodded at her with a small smile, “Be safe,” were the only words he said before she jumped up and ran back into battle, with her sword in front of her.

Y/n scanned the area, her eyes locking onto a horse not too far away, its rider slain by the treacherous creatures. Sprinting to it, she grabbed onto its reins and started to lead it to the corner where Haldir was situated.

Seething in pain, she watched as an arrow grazed her bicep, though she couldn’t focus on the pain, for there was a greater task that needed to be completed. Disregarding everything around her Y/n kept pushing along, each step forward feeling like an eternity.

“Darling I’m back,” Y/n stated before looking down at Haldir whose eyes were shut, sweat beading on his face.

Immediately running towards him, she placed her fingers against his throat, checking for a pulse, and she let out a sigh of relief when his heart was still pumping blood throughout his body.

Snaking her arms underneath his, she dragged him to the horse but struggled to pull him onto the saddle. Beginning to panic, she tried to think of another way to help him up, but she was stumped.

“Let me help,” a voice sounded, and Y/n turned her head, watching as Aragorn sprinted over.

He told her to get onto the horse first, and she did without hesitation. While he pushed Haldir up onto the horse, Y/n helped to lift him; both working together to get him situated in front of her. Y/n wrapped her arms around Haldir’s waist, grabbing the reins as his head dropped forward, maintaining his unconsciousness.

“Thank you, Aragorn, I will surely find a way to repay you for your kindness,” Y/n stated, bowing her head at the man before flicking the reins with her wrists and quickly maneuvering through the crowds of orcs, elves, and men.

The sun had begun to rise in the east, the light cutting through the haze of fog that had fallen over the lands. Y/n was thankful for the horse she had borrowed, noting that it was faster than she imagined it to be, making their return to camp quicker than expected.

When she saw the healing tent in the middle of the camp, she immediately stopped the horse, gesturing for people to come and help her bring him inside. Though they were whisking him away almost quicker than she could move, Y/n refused to leave his side, desperately needing to be there with him.

Watching as they removed his armor, she noticed just how bad the wound was, she had to turn around, for it was too painful to watch. She sat in a chair nearby, watching as the healers swiftly moved around providing the help he desperately needed.

Sitting there, Y/n felt exhaustion begin to take hold of her body, and she fought her heavy eyelids from closing, though eventually she succumbed to their weight.

“Y/n,” a quiet yet hoarse said, yet Y/n didn’t wake up, she only shifted slightly in the uncomfortable chair.

“Y/n,” the voice spoke again, this time louder, making the female elves quickly open, confusion lacing her features, forgetting where she had fallen asleep.

When her eyes fell upon Haldir’s form that was lying in bed, she jumped up when she noticed that his blue eyes were open and alert.

“My love, you’re okay!” she exclaimed, kneeling on the ground next to his bed, before grabbing his hand and gently kissing it.

“All thanks to you,” Haldir said, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, making Y/n’s heart practically melt within her chest.

“I was only doing what you would’ve done for me,” Y/n started, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, “For a while there, I thought I was going to lose you.”

Haldir looked at Y/n, his throat tightening as he realized how much pain he must’ve caused her in those terrifying moments. He couldn’t possibly imagine what that would’ve felt like.

“My dear, I’m sorry for the pain I must’ve caused you, but you must know that you cannot get rid of me that easily. I’m stubborn in that regard,” he replied, cupping her cheek with his hand, ignoring the soreness that had overtaken his body.

“Do not apologize, it was not your fault Haldir,” she responded, wiping away the sadness from her eyes.

“Ah yes, I should’ve remembered your stubbornness,” Y/n continued, letting a small laugh escape her lips.

“Please, for your own sake, do your best not to forget it,” Haldir smirked, pushing himself up in bed, just enough for Y/n to gently wrap her arms around him, and give him a tender hug.

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

Three Weeks on the Nimrodel

Well, here it is. My first (and oldest) piece of fic. I'm going against my brand here by posting something set in Lorien when Rohan is really my jam. But this is the first thing I ever wrote, so it seems fitting that it should be the first posted, too.

Pairing: Haldir x reader (The reader is gender neutral beyond 2 uses of the descriptor "beautiful", which is still neutral to me but your mileage might vary.)

Genre: Romance, I guess

Summary: Two elves who are frequently misunderstood by others find the joy of having someone really see and value them for who they are.

Inspiration: This all came from the well loved gif above, in which Craig Parker does beautiful work communicating a whole emotional arc (surprise, confusion, acceptance, appreciation) when Aragorn unexpectedly shows Haldir some loving affection. In that half-second of screen time, I see an entire book of backstory about Haldir's character--about being someone who is very reserved by nature, who isn't necessarily comfortable freely expressing feelings and innermost thoughts, but who still feels deep emotional connections to others that can come out under the right circumstances. As a very reserved person myself, I can relate--if you tend to keep your thoughts and feelings close to the vest, people will make a lot of assumptions and judgments about you that probably aren't right, and that can be exhausting. When someone finally does understand you and allows you to be comfortable enough to open up on your own terms, it's a life changing experience. So that's what I tried to write.

Word count: approx 3200 (~ 6 pages)

**********

It is still early when you arrive in the center of Caras Galadhon, joining the crowd of elves waiting to find out where they will be posted for the next few weeks of guard duty. Most in the group are veteran marchwardens, deeply familiar with each other and the daily routine of life near the borders. By contrast, you are a city warden, often dedicated to the direct protection of the Lady of the Wood. But you have been asked to serve a temporary rotation on the borders while several of the regular marchwardens are away with Lord Celeborn on a visit to Mirkwood.

The change of pace is not unwelcome to you. While you love Caras Galadhon and are honored to spend time in the service of Lady Galadriel, you frequently find yourself craving distance from the city in favor of the quiet outlying areas, where it is easy to hear clear birdsong, the rustling steps of small animals scampering by, and the patter of light raindrops falling on mallorn leaves.

The crowd begins to murmur as the deputy captain appears and begins handing around sheets of paper with duty assignments. As the pages spread through the crowd, the murmurs turn to both sighs of disappointment and quiet expressions of satisfaction.

“All I want is to avoid the Nimrodel,” you overhear the elf next to you mutter to a friend of his. You recognize him as Calendil, who, like many of his companions, is well known for carousing around Caras Galadhon any time he is home on leave. As a group, the marchwardens are a boisterous company who seem always determined to pack several weeks of fun into the few days of free time they’ve been given. “Three weeks posted with the captain is more than can be asked of me.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise at this mention of Captain Haldir. You know him a little–everyone in Lorien knows the leader of the marchwardens–and have never before heard a negative word uttered about him. Your path does not often cross with his, but you admire his impressive record of achievements and have never seen him treat another elf with anything but courteous respect.

“You speak truly,” replies Calendil’s companion. “I cannot spend so much time with someone who has so little to say. That much silence is enough to drive one a little mad.”

A wave of indignation rolls through your body. It is undeniably true that Haldir is very reserved. He says little that isn’t necessary to the conduct of his duties, and what he is truly thinking behind his large blue eyes is often a mystery. But that has never seemed a negative trait to you. Indeed, you appreciate that he does not talk simply for talk’s sake and that he does not seem concerned with always making his own opinions known. What’s more, you recognize a fair amount of his inherent reserve in your own nature. If you didn’t often force yourself to satisfy others’ expectations by taking on a more outgoing, sociable persona, perhaps your own wardens would describe you just as these elves have described their captain.

Calendil’s conversation comes to an abrupt end as a copy of the assignment sheet makes its way into his hands. Peering over his shoulder, you quickly find your own name allocated to a remote post near the edge of the Dimrill Dale. A glance further down the list confirms what you already know from the quiet groan that has just escaped from Calendil’s lips: he has been assigned to the Nimrodel post.

An idea quickly forms in your head, and you tap him on the shoulder. Why should he spend three weeks feeling miserable with his posting–and, no doubt, making anyone around him miserable as a result–when you have no particular attachment to your own assignment? Calendil can go to the Dimrill Dale, and you will spend your posting with Haldir instead.

“If such a trade is permitted within your ranks, I will gladly make the exchange,” you offer. “I have always loved the river. And I have no objection to the company of someone who takes his duty seriously and does not revel in idle chatter.”

Calendil’s face registers a moment of regret as he realizes that his prior conversation has been heard by others, but it is quickly replaced by a wide, beaming smile that reflects his rapid change of fortune. “It is permitted,” he says, “and I happily accept. Remind me the next time we are both on leave, and I will reward your generosity with some of my own!”

You doubt that whatever reward he has in mind will suit your inclinations, but there is no need to worry about that now. Calendil has already sprinted off toward the deputy captain to report the change, and you turn toward home to gather your supplies.

****

Two days later, you are approaching the Nimrodel post, which is located in a lovely old mallorn tree with twisted roots that hang over the river’s edge. You raise your hand to your lips and whistle the signal. The return call echoes off the trees before a slim rope ladder drops from the branches above you. You run lightly up the rungs, making easy work of the climb to the talan perched near the great tree’s crown, where it commands a wide view of the river and much of the western section of the border.

As you hoist yourself and your pack onto the platform, you look up to see a single figure standing a few feet away. It is Haldir, leaning against the wind screen with his bow slung loosely over his shoulder and his white-blonde hair blowing gently in the breeze.You are surprised to see him there alone; wardens generally keep watch in pairs or groups of three for safety. You are there to relieve Arthalion, who is due now to return home for a break, but there is no sign of Arthalion or his things.

“Mae govannen, Captain,” you say, placing your hand on your chest and bowing your head slightly. “Is everything well?”

Haldir returns the gesture with a small smile. “Yes. It has been blessedly uneventful. Perhaps it is the threat of the weather.”

This makes sense. Just last month, an orc party attempting a surprise attack during a thunderstorm found themselves nearly washed away by sudden flooding from the Celebrant. Since then, even the hint of rain has tended to keep them at bay.

“And Arthalion? Is he out on a task?”

Haldir shakes his head. “I sent him back early. You might have passed one another in the forest except that he planned to meet a small hunting party further north. As I said, things here were quiet, and he was anxious to join his friends.” He gives a small shrug and looks down. “I will do the same for you, if circumstances allow and you desire it. I do not wish to keep anyone from their enjoyments unless duty requires it.”

You permit yourself a brief moment to wonder what Haldir’s own enjoyments might be. You have heard that he is a talented artist, making detailed pencil sketches of the forest, but he does not often show his work to others.

“That is a thoughtful offer,” you say. “But I have no pressing need to return, and I would not have you out here alone, even if there is no other elf in Lorien better able to protect himself.”

He acknowledges this compliment with a modest smile and gestures toward a small shelf where you can store your belongings. His own are few in number but neatly stacked or folded with military precision. You note that he does, in fact, have a small bundle of pencils and a notebook, but, as expected, there is no sign of any actual drawings.

After stowing your things, you settle into a position opposite him on the talan, and a silence ensues. It is of no bother to you–you’re enjoying the smell of the damp air and the touch of the light wind on your face–but you soon notice that Haldir is looking increasingly discomfited as the quiet minutes slip by. His gaze shifts frequently between the horizon, his hands on his bow, and your face.

“Was…your journey here pleasant?” His face is studiously neutral, but his voice sounds strained and he picks at a splinter on his bow. You realize that he is trying to make conversation for your benefit, to fill in the noticeable silence with casual talk that clearly does not come easily to him. You feel a sudden rush of affection for him, this intensely quiet being who is making himself uncomfortable so that you will feel welcome. You wonder how best to put him at ease.

“It was very pleasant,” you reply. “I am so rarely outside of the city these days that any chance to enjoy the forest is a gift. I can understand why being a marchwarden is an attractive job, at least during times of relative peace.”

He looks up, reappraising your face, and nods his agreement.

You hesitate before speaking again, unsure about how directly to address his uneasiness.

“Captain,” you begin, “it sounds like we may have an uneventful tour here. If that is the case, please do not feel that you are obligated to occupy my time. I am quite comfortable with quiet activity and my own thoughts and would gladly afford you space for the same if that is something you wish.”

His cheeks and ears flush slightly but, despite his apparent embarrassment at being accurately perceived, he seems immediately relieved as well. “Thank you,” he says. “If you are as good a warden as you are a reader of people, I feel myself in safe hands indeed.”

The next several days pass by peacefully. Between occasional scouting trips up or down the riverbank and regularly monitoring the view from the talan, you mostly spend the time together in companionable silence. You take turns preparing simple meals, and during breaks in the intermittent rain you make minor repairs to nearby rope bridges and other hidden defenses in the area. In the evenings, you read a book by lantern light while Haldir sits next to his own lantern and sketches in his notebook, occasionally transferring completed drawings into a closed leather folio at his side. Every so often, you both glance up at the same time, and you give him a warm smile when your eyes meet before turning back to your respective pages.

*****

One evening, as you clean up the remains of your small dinner and take out your book again, Haldir lightly clears his throat.

“That book seems to engage you much,” he says. “May I ask what it is?”

Surprised, you hold it out to him, and he takes it, examining the cover and flipping through a few pages.

“I do not recognize this script,” he says, looking at it with curiosity.

“It is a representation of Rohirric,” you tell him. “My brother was a skilled linguist who passed on some small portion of his knowledge to me. He spent many months visiting a friend in the court at Edoras and helped them to start preserving some of their oral traditions with a system of letters. This is a copy of one of his first completed projects–the story of the founding of Rohan–which he sent to me as a gift.”

Haldir looks again with renewed interest at a few pages before handing the book back to you. “Your brother sounds like an impressive scholar,” he says. “Does he remain in Rohan?”

You hesitate slightly before responding. “In a way. Two years ago an orc band in search of horses raided a village near the Limlight while my brother happened to be visiting. They caught him and his hosts unaware. The Rohirrim buried his body in a place of honor with their people, though his spirit has surely gone to Mandos.”

You relate this with downcast eyes, tracing over your brother’s name on the cover of the book with your thumb. After a few moments, you look up again, expecting to see Haldir withdrawn from the conversation. You know that many elves are uncomfortable with death, which is an unnatural state for your kind, and there is nothing in your interactions so far to indicate that Haldir will want to continue such a personal discussion. You are surprised once again, however, to find that he is looking at you intently.

“I am deeply sorry,” he says. “Working as I do, I have known many elves who met a similar fate in battle, and it is never easy. My own brothers are a treasure to me, and I cannot imagine losing them. I hope I have not contributed to your suffering by unwittingly bringing up a painful subject.”

You blink back a few tears and smile. Through your sadness, you are moved by the warmth of his response and honored that he was willing to share something personal of himself. “Of course not,” you say. “Talking about my brother is one way to keep him with me. Thank you, Captain.” You reach forward and squeeze his hand. He flinches slightly at the unexpected touch, but then gently returns the squeeze.

“Please,” he says, “call me Haldir.”

*****

After that night, things are different between the two of you. You both speak more often, tentatively at first but then with increasing comfort. You trade stories about old adventures and talk about the joys and frustrations of your daily lives. You discover that he has much to say when he finally feels more at ease. He is even quite funny, with a dry wit that you did not expect but thoroughly enjoy. You walk together in the forest and rest your feet in the waters of the Nimrodel during the day, and in the evenings he asks you to read to him from your book. You happily relate tales of Cirion and Eorl and the coming of the Northmen to Calenardhon as he draws quietly, occasionally interjecting a question or a brief comment.

The time passes quickly and easily, and soon your rotation will be at an end. You realize there is a growing pain in your heart each time you think about your imminent departure. Your old life suddenly feels dull and uninteresting to you now. You do not want to go back to a time without his companionship. You debate whether to say this to him, but you cannot imagine how he might react to such a confession. Paralyzed by uncertainty, the last days of your assignment tick by.

On your final evening, you are preparing for one last opportunity to enjoy what has become your nightly routine. Just as he is about to settle with his notepad and folio, however, he notices your canteen is empty and insists on climbing down to fill it for you. As he reaches the ground and disappears over the riverbank, the wind changes direction and a sudden gust rips across the talan, flinging back the cover of the folio and sending papers flying out in all directions. You cry out in dismay and throw yourself desperately onto the pages whipping around you, seeking to hold them down long enough to gather them safely together.

It is only after you have retrieved all the loose pages and are preparing to neatly stack them that you first look at the drawings themselves and are stunned by what you see: beautiful illustrations of the stories you’ve been reading to him, the words of your brother’s book brought to vivid life in graceful pencil lines and delicate shading. You leaf through the stack in awed amazement only to nearly drop the whole pile again when you turn a page and find an image of yourself as you must look to him each night, sitting by your lantern with your book in your lap. You keep turning pages and find more of yourself…braiding your hair first thing in the morning, standing at the wind screen and scanning the horizon, unlacing your boots at the end of a day. Your breath catches in your throat as you absorb these images. You have never looked more beautiful than you do here, seen through his eyes.

A sudden noise behind you tears your attention from the papers in your hand, and you turn to find Haldir standing there. You are immediately overwhelmed by panic and begin to stammer out an explanation for how you came to be holding his personal things, violating his privacy. “I…the wind…they were blowing away and…”. Hot tears well up in your eyes and are soon spilling down your cheeks, partly from embarrassment at the situation but mostly as the feelings you’ve been keeping pent up threaten to come flooding out all at once. “I was not trying to…I…”. An involuntary sob robs you of the ability to finish your sentence, though you aren’t sure how you would have finished it had you been able.

At the sound of your sob, he moves forward, quickly closing the distance between you. He hesitantly cups a hand under your jaw and uses his thumb to brush a tear from your cheek. “Please do not cry,” he says. “I would not ever see you in pain if it were in my power to prevent it. I am not upset. These drawings were for you, for your book. You were meant to have them, except the last few, which I hoped to keep as a reminder of these days and how happy I have been.” Your eyes snap up to his face, searching for confirmation that you have correctly understood his words.

“You know that I am not much for talking,” he continues. “But I am a very good observer. I know that you see me for who I am, just as I see you. I see all of the ways that you are kind and interesting and intelligent and beautiful. I have no expectation that you return my feelings, and if all I ever have with you are these three weeks then I will cherish the memory of these weeks through all the long ages of my life. But I would….”

Before he can complete his thought, your body reacts on its own impulse, a pure release of elation. You throw your arms around his neck and bury your face in his broad chest, still crying but now with tears of joy. You hear a sharp intake of breath as he processes your reaction, and for a fraction of a moment he stands motionless and silent before breaking into a smile and wrapping you in his arms. You could live in those arms forever, and now perhaps you will.

[earthlybeam]

Generally humans tend to be more openly affectionate and physically expressive than elves. They engage in actions like holding hands, giving their friends a quick kiss on the forehead or cheek for good luck or as a way to say goodbye, or when showing how much they’ve missed each other. It’s also common for humans to casually drape an arm around a friend’s waist while sitting together and chatting comfortably.

how would the elves react to this?

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Celeborn🩵, erestor 📚, Legolas 🍃 version’s only as stranger, friend, lover.

🩵𝓒𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓫𝓸𝓻𝓷

Stranger:

𖣂 Celeborn, as a wise and reserved Elf, would initially react with quiet curiosity when confronted with human displays of affection. Having lived for millennia, he is aware of the customs of other races, including humans, but it is not in his nature to display such overt physicality. If a stranger approached him with an affectionate gesture such as holding hands, a kiss on the forehead, or an arm casually placed around him, Celeborn would likely stiffen slightly, though his expression would remain composed. His deep understanding of the complexities of social behavior would help him mask any discomfort, but there would be a quiet moment of surprise or hesitation.

𖣂 He would not reject the gesture outright, but his response would be reserved. Celeborn would likely offer a polite nod or a brief, formal touch, maintaining the decorum expected of someone of his position. He might also take a moment to analyze the intention behind the gesture—why the human feels compelled to act so freely and openly.

𖣂 Internal thought: Such displays are so different from the customs of my people. But there is no malice behind it… Perhaps it is simply the human way. Public action: A formal nod, possibly placing a hand lightly on the stranger’s shoulder or giving a brief, courteous touch as a sign of acknowledgment.

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Friend:

𖣂 As a friend, Celeborn’s response would soften, though his nature would remain steady and dignified. He is still an Elf of tradition and wisdom, so overt physical displays of affection may still feel somewhat foreign to him. However, if you are someone he has known and trusted for some time, Celeborn would begin to accept such gestures, albeit in more subtle forms. He would no longer recoil but would remain careful in his responses.

𖣂 He may allow for small, brief touches when in private—such as a hand resting gently on his arm or a light hand clasp when parting. He might even find comfort in these acts, though he would likely reflect on their meaning in the quiet moments alone. Celeborn, having spent so many ages in the company of Elves, might wonder about the deeper connections humans forge through such actions. Still, he values the warmth of friendship enough to allow for these gestures, even if they remain somewhat understated in his own interactions.

𖣂 Internal thought: There is something reassuring about your presence, even if your ways of expressing care are foreign to me. Perhaps this bond is not as strange as I once thought. Public action: A brief touch on the arm or shoulder, or a hand placed gently on the small of your back during a quiet conversation, acknowledging the closeness of the friendship.

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Lover:

𖣂 When it comes to a lover, Celeborn’s transformation is profound. His deep, abiding love for his partner, and his devotion to Galadriel in particular, would make him more open to showing affection. In the presence of someone he deeply cares for, Celeborn would still maintain his noble composure, but his touch would become more tender and frequent. His gestures would remain subtle, as he never fully abandons the dignified nature of his Elven upbringing, but there would be an unmistakable warmth in them. He might reach for your hand without hesitation, place a kiss on your cheek or forehead, or gently wrap his arm around you when walking or sitting together.

𖣂 Although Celeborn’s affection is quiet, it is also deeply sincere. His touch would be slow and deliberate, as though savoring the intimacy you share. He is not one to indulge in grand public displays, but in the privacy of your companionship, he would show affection in ways that speak of his eternal, unspoken love. He would cherish these moments with you, and his gestures—though restrained—would grow more frequent, each one a reflection of his feelings.

𖣂 Internal thought: How strange and yet wondrous it is, this bond we share. After so many ages, this affection still feels like something new, like a gift from the stars themselves. Public action: A lingering touch to your hand, a tender kiss on the forehead or the back of your hand, a brief yet intimate arm around your shoulders. These gestures would carry great meaning for Celeborn, representing not just affection but the depth of his emotions.

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🍃𝓛𝓮𝓰𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓼

Stranger:

𖧧 Legolas, being an elf who is somewhat socially awkward and unsure of human customs, would likely respond to physical affection from a stranger with confusion and a touch of discomfort. He’s not one to engage in direct displays of affection right off the bat, especially with someone he doesn’t know well. When a stranger tries to hold his hand, kiss his cheek, or drape an arm over his shoulder, Legolas would freeze for a moment, unsure how to respond. His instinct might be to gently pull away, his brows furrowing in a mix of uncertainty and mild discomfort, as such displays of affection are not typical in his elven culture.

𖧧 He might politely nod or step back a little, offering an awkward smile to acknowledge the gesture but making it clear he doesn’t quite understand it. He could even offer an uncertain explanation, maybe referring to how elves are more reserved or how he is not accustomed to such human displays. His response might be a mix of curiosity and mild trepidation, as he would be trying to understand why humans are so free with their affection.

𖧧 Internal Thought: Such gestures are not typical for elves… is this how humans show friendship? I don’t quite understand it…Public Action: A stiff smile or nod, a careful step back, perhaps an awkward pat on the shoulder, but no reciprocation of the affection.

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Friend:

𖧧 With a friend, Legolas is far more comfortable, but still somewhat reserved and careful in his actions. If you are a friend he trusts, he will be more open to the occasional touch, though he still doesn’t easily engage in overt public displays of affection. He might allow a hand to brush against yours as you walk side by side, or if you’re sitting near him, he might casually let his knee touch yours. These little moments of physical closeness are his way of expressing affection, though he’d still avoid any gestures that feel too intimate, especially in front of others.

𖧧 He’s still a bit awkward, often unsure of how much affection is appropriate, but in private, he is more likely to offer a gentle smile or a quiet moment of comfort. If you’re walking together, he may offer his arm for support or give a casual, but warm, nod in your direction to acknowledge that you are someone he values. He might even bring you small gifts like flowers or interesting stones—his own way of showing you that he cares. However, there’s still a certain distance to his actions, a reservedness in his demeanor.

𖧧 Internal Thought: It is strange, this closeness humans have… but, perhaps… it is not as unsettling as I once thought. Public Action: Light touch on the arm, brief brush of shoulders or hands, a soft smile, maybe a small gesture like handing over something he picked up while out on a walk.

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Lover:

𖧧 When it comes to a lover, Legolas is much more physically affectionate, but only in private and in ways that reflect his deep adoration. His usual reserved nature melts away, replaced with an intensity and quiet passion. While he may not publicly display affection in front of others (at least not overly much), when alone with you, Legolas’s gestures become increasingly tender and loving. He will touch you more often, whether it’s resting his hand on the small of your back as you walk, lightly tracing the back of your hand with his fingers, or holding you closer when you sit side by side.

𖧧 Legolas finds comfort in the intimacy of small touches. His affection is soft but meaningful, and though he might still shy away from more public displays of affection, in private, his love for you shines through in subtle yet powerful ways. He might brush your hair behind your ear, press gentle kisses to your cheek, or pull you into a close embrace after a difficult day. The affection he shows is filled with a sense of reverence, as if every touch is a way of expressing how much you mean to him.

𖧧 His love is not loud or showy, but deeply sincere. Kissing you would be something sacred to him, and the times when his lips meet yours are treasured moments of quiet intimacy. He takes his time with you, showing affection in the most gentle and meaningful ways, from resting his forehead against yours to sharing whispered words of admiration.

𖧧 Internal Thought: To be so close to you, to feel your warmth… it is everything. I would never let go of this feeling. Public Action: In private, more open displays of affection—gentle touches, a hand placed on your shoulder or waist, the soft press of his lips to your forehead or cheek, or simply holding your hand as you walk. In public, he might still keep some distance, but it’s clear that you are incredibly important to him.

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📚𝓔𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓻

Stranger:

✎ Erestor, ever the serious and stern elf, would be deeply uncomfortable with the spontaneous displays of affection that are common among humans. When a stranger approaches him with such gestures—hand-holding, a quick kiss on the cheek, or an arm draped around his shoulder—his reaction would be one of mild shock and confusion. His first instinct would be to recoil, both physically and emotionally, as the outwardly warm gestures clash with his preference for formality and personal space.

✎ Erestor, always maintaining a sense of decorum, would quickly regain his composure, though the awkwardness of the moment would linger in the air. He would probably raise an eyebrow, giving you a slightly bemused and cautious look, unsure whether this display of affection is customary or appropriate. His preference for privacy and personal boundaries means that he would not immediately reciprocate, nor would he push the touch away aggressively. Instead, he would likely stiffen, creating an invisible barrier between the two of you, his mind attempting to rationalize the meaning behind such behavior.

✎ Internal thought: Why would anyone feel the need to be so… intimate, without even knowing one another? Ridiculous, yet I suppose it is not intended with malice. Public action: Erestor would likely give a polite, formal nod, stepping back slightly to avoid further contact. A brief, stiff hand on your shoulder might be his attempt to acknowledge the gesture, but he would be quick to withdraw, maintaining a cool distance. His serious expression would likely remain unchanged, but the disapproval in his posture would be palpable.

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Friend:

✎ As a friend, Erestor would begin to relax a little, though his natural reserve would still make physical affection difficult for him to embrace fully. He is someone who values order, quiet, and control, and human displays of affection are often too informal for his taste. That being said, if you are a close and trusted friend, Erestor would begin to accept small, subtle displays of affection—though always with a hint of discomfort.

✎ He may tolerate a casual hand on his arm, a brief touch when parting ways, or even a kiss on the cheek, though the latter would likely prompt him to stiffen for a moment before he allows it to happen. Erestor would certainly not initiate such gestures, but if they occur in a moment of shared comfort or camaraderie, he would not shy away from them. There is a sense of begrudging acceptance to these affectionate actions, and though he may still find them strange, he might begin to appreciate the warmth they bring, even if he never quite understands why humans engage in them so freely.

✎ Internal thought: I suppose this is what friendship entails… a little closeness, though it still seems… unnecessary. But I will allow it, for their sake. Public action: Erestor might offer a more relaxed touch, like a hand on your back as you walk side by side or a quick, impersonal pat on the arm when bidding farewell. His actions would still retain a formality, though there’s a slight shift in his posture that shows he’s growing more comfortable with these expressions of affection. A quiet, almost imperceptible smile may appear, though he quickly hides it behind his usual grumpy demeanor.

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Lover:

✎ With a lover, Erestor’s response to affection is far more complicated. His gruff exterior and preference for solitude may make the intimacy of touch feel like a foreign concept at first, but over time, his growing affection would manifest in subtle, yet deep ways. Erestor would likely resist the urge to be overtly affectionate at first, preferring moments of quiet closeness where words are unnecessary. However, as he grows more comfortable and begins to trust you, his gestures would become more intimate, though always understated.

✎ Erestor might surprise you by pulling you into a quiet corner of the library, where he would kiss you tenderly, but quickly—his reserved nature still holding strong even in private. However, these moments would speak volumes: the swift kiss, the brief touch on your back as he guides you through the halls, or the rare, but deeply meaningful hand-holding when the two of you are alone. Erestor, despite his desire for solitude, would find comfort in these quiet exchanges. They would be a way for him to express his affection without compromising his need for personal space and order.

✎ The more time you spend together, the more you might notice small changes in his behavior—his tolerance for your physical presence growing as he begins to find peace in it. Though his affection might not be as overt as other elves or humans, it would be clear to you that he is deeply attached. His touch, while measured and controlled, would convey the depth of his feelings.

✎ Internal thought: I never thought I would find comfort in another’s presence… but with them, the world seems to slow. I can allow this, for them. Perhaps even more, if I let it. Public action: Erestor might allow his hand to rest on your shoulder or the small of your back, though always subtly, with an air of casualness. A soft kiss to your forehead or a gentle brush of your hand as you sit together would be the most intimate he would allow in public, and even then, it would be brief but filled with unspoken meaning. His affection would be the kind that’s felt rather than overtly displayed, quietly warm in its steadiness.

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If you want anymore of any other elven characters like thranduil, Elrond, lindir, haldir, feren, meludir, Galion, elros, elladan, elrohir, glrofindel, Gil-galad.

Let me know 💚🍃

Galion Feren, elros is in this

Elrohir and Elladan is in this

[lotrandthehobbitwritings]

Arrival of Spring

Pairing: Elrond x (fem!) Reader

Genre: fluff

Warning: none

Words: 2430

Rivendell existed for a little over one and a half millennia. It was prestigious, peaceful, beautiful. Your family originated from Lothlórien, your father was a well trusted guard of Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, which earned your family a great reputation. You were always seen walking the royal gardens, making lots of girls your age jealous as very few people out of the royal family had access to those places. But you being friends with Celebrían gave you an easy way in to all those forbidden areas. That was years ago though, as you now lived in Rivendell alone. What made you move to Rivendell, leaving your family behind in your homeland? Elrond, lord of Rivendell came to Lothlórien after the War of the Elves and Sauron, explaining that he planned to establish a life there and wished it could serve good purposes. Hearing of it, you thought he was noble, and felt as it was your duty to help him achieve his goal. And you did just that.

Elrond was more than appreciative of anyone that wanted to establish a life there and help make this place a welcoming heaven. You were amazed at how easily everyone got acclimated and how quickly this place was becoming what Elrond wished for it to be. As the months went by, you grew quite fond of your new home. You loved how peaceful and quiet it was, you loved taking walks along the many bridges, sitting on benches under the gazebos to read a book while the misty air of the nearby mountains left a cool feeling on your pinkish cheeks. The sound of the river falling over rocks was so relaxing that you could easily spend hours at the same place without noticing time going by. And today was one of those days.

You had been sitting under one of the highest gazebos, reading a book you took from the library this morning. There was a light spring breeze, the flowers were in bloom and birds were making their nest in the highest branches of Rivendell’s trees. Your hair was flowing in the wind, a lock often finding its way in your face, disturbing your reading. After tucking the said lock of hair behind your pointy ear, you resumed to your activities, reading the last few sentences of the chapter that now began to make way more sense than when you read the first phrases of it a few pages back. Time went by, and slowly the air became colder as the sun started making its descent in the sky, gradually making space for the moon to replace the biggest star’s warm light by its cold one. But your body didn’t acknowledge it, after all, elves don’t react to cold weather as easily as others. However, it wasn’t the cold that snapped you out of your reading, but a voice coming from behind you.

‘’Why am I not surprised to find you here?’’

The voice made you jump, yet made you smiled as you recognized it immediately. You turned your head and faced the dark-haired elven lord.

‘’You should come inside’’ Elrond said.

‘’I will, brennyn nín’’ you answered while smiling. ‘’it appeared I lost track of time once again’’

Elrond smiled back and offered you his hand so that you could stand up. He watched as you carefully closed the book, which you almost finished reading, and took his hand, getting up from the white stone bench that was beautifully sculpted.

‘’Please, just call me Elrond’’ he said with his smile still present.

You felt your cheek heat up as you looked into his eyes, and simply gave a small nod. You walked by his side, listening as he talked to you about the gardens and all the flowers that are currently blooming. You took occasional glances at the man beside you, carefully as you did not want to be caught. He was wearing a golden robe made of silk, which flowed with each step he took. His dark and long hair was carefully slicked back and braided, leaving only two strands of hair by each side of his face, a hairstyle he always wore yet you never got tired of seeing it. You loved how it highlighted his features, how his eyes seemed to call even more for your attention. His crown which was so delicate, yet so majestic, and deeply enhancing how gracious he looked. His looks really didn’t compare, and they never got out of your head.

‘’(y/n)?’’

You turned your head to your right after hearing your name.

‘’You seemed deeply lost in your thoughts’’ Elrond said with a small chuckle.

‘’Oh, I’m sorry I did not realize’’

Your cheeks quickly colored red with embarrassment as you hoped he didn’t notice you were looking at him.

‘’It’s alright, I simply was asking which of the flowers you were most excited to see bloom. I know you have spent quite some time in the gardens at Lothlórien and I hope we can make Rivendell’s as beautiful’’

‘’Well, I always loved hyacinths. They are simple yet their color is always so vibrant that it warms your heart in some way’’ you smiled.

‘’Luckily for us that we were able to get some and hopefully ours will grow beautifully, even if I doubt they will be just as Lothlórien’s ones’’

‘’Lothlórien is hard to compare, that’s true. But I believe we can make equally as appealing and charming as the ones from my homeland’’

Elrond nodded and smiled.

‘’Your enthusiasm is what will make them bloom as lovely’’ he said.

You thanked him with a shy voice and stopped walking, almost bumping into the elf as you didn’t notice he himself stopped. As you were about to question the sudden halt, you noticed that you had reached the door to your chambers. You didn’t even realize that you weren’t outside anymore.

‘’You should change, we are having a feist tonight to celebrate the arrival of spring’’

‘’Eru.. It absolutely slipped out of my mind I am so sorry’’ you quickly said, feeling bad as you should’ve gotten ready for it earlier.

‘’There’s no need for apologies, heryn nín. The feist doesn’t start until another hour, you have all the time you need’’

Your eyes grew big, you couldn’t believe your ears. Surely you didn’t hear him properly, he possibly could not have called you like that.

‘’Yes alright, I will ready myself then’’ you said, trying to brush what just happened out of your head.

Elrond smiled and bowed his head in a small nod.

‘’I shall see you then’’

And with that he walked away, most likely to get ready himself. You quickly entered your chamber and closed the wooden door behind you, resting your back on it for a few seconds.

‘’Heryn nín’’ you whispered to yourself, confusion invading your mind.

You yet again put those thoughts aside and walked towards the carved wooden wardrobe and opened it, looking through the dresses that were hanging. You wanted something fancier than a regular dress, but you didn’t have that many. Since it was a feist for spring, you also wanted something of light colors, and as you kept looking at your dresses, your eyes set on one. Since you moved to Rivendell, you had dresses made that were more in the established style, but you still had a few dresses from your home. Your hands carefully grabbed the light purple fabric and you smiled. This was one of your favorites, which is why you brought it with you to Rivendell. It was made of lace, which gave it a more ethereal and mystical look, and it was a classic wardrobe in Lothlórien. You slipped your current dress off your shoulders and carefully dressed in the one you would wear to the feist. After brushing and braiding your hair again, you were ready to join everyone.

As you went down the stairs to and walked outside where the feist was taking place, you could hear many people talking and soft music. As you stepped amongst everyone else, you noticed three elves playing the harp and two playing the flute, each equally separated from each other, as well as a flutist between each harpist. This made you smile, you always loved when things were well separated like such. As your feet led you to grab a drink, your eyes looked around, searching through every elf to find the one you wanted to see, but he was no where to be seen. Or so you thought, because as you grabbed your glass of wine you heard his voice.

‘’Well, I was not expecting to see you in such dress tonight’’

You smiled a bit shyly, hoping he wasn’t unhappy about your fashion choice.

‘’I felt this was the most appropriate way I could dress for such an occasion. Celebrating the arrival of spring is a festive day, and I felt that dressing in too heavy colors and fabrics would go against the meaning of the celebration’’

Elrond smiled and brought his glass to his lips, taking a sip of his wine.

‘’I agree, you made a good decision in wearing this dress, it’s very flattering’’

You thanked him and gently bowed your head to him, which he responded with an even wider smile.

‘’May I bring you elsewhere? There is something I would like to show you’’

‘’Show me?’’ you asked, a bit confused.

‘’Yes, I promise it is worth the sight’’

You were confused why he suddenly wanted to show you something, let alone be uniquely with you. Not that you never been in his company alone, but this was the first time he requested such thing.

‘’Well then, lead the way my lord’’

Elrond chuckled and started walking. While you two directed yourselves to wherever he wanted to bring you, Elrond couldn’t help but look at you, and how beautiful the dressed looked on you. By the same means, you were also looking at him, loving the color of his robe. He was wearing a light orange one, which is a color you rarely ever saw him wear and you definitely would tell him that it suited him, if you weren’t so shy around him.

You noticed that he was bringing you to the gardens, but through a hidden path. You were walking under trees which were blooming with their flowers, a few petals dancing in the wind above your heads.

‘’I never knew this path was here’’ you said as you looked around in awe at the sight.

‘’Very few people know of it, and I want it to stay that way, so that it’s more private’’

You nodded and he smiled. When you entered the garden, you saw immediately why he brought you here.

‘’I can’t believe it..’’ you said as you made your way to the hyacinths which were now in full bloom, earlier than their usual time.

You put your glass of wine down on a nearby rounded stone table and kneeled in front of the flowers, gently touching the delicate petals.

‘’Beautiful isn’t it?’’

‘’Magnificent’’ you answered, still not believing what your eyes were showing you.

Elrond watched you as you admired the flowers, and he smiled. Long has he been thinking of talking to you about his feelings, but he barely ever talked to you long enough to justify doing so, and he didn’t want to come forward and make things uncomfortable. But it was becoming harder for him, and he noticed himself trying to find any reasons to approach you. Today for instance when he saw you for the twelfth time of the day as he walked by, he stepped forward and reminded you of the feist. Mostly because he wanted to be sure that you would attend as he wanted to spend more time with you. And now, using the hyacinth as an excuse to steal you away from the others so that he could be alone with you.

Elrond put his glass besides yours and kneeled by your side. You turned your head as you saw his silhouette move and smiled as his knee rested on the ground. He smiled back and kept looking at you. Your eyes were shining so brightly in the moonlight, none of the stars in the sky could compare to those little constellations in your eyes, and Elrond fell even more in love with you. It’s in this moment that he knew he had to open his heart to you, and hope that you too would open your heart to him.

‘’(y/n)’’

‘’Yes, my lord?’’

You knew you could call him by his name, as he told you earlier today and a few other times before, but it felt wrong to do so.

‘’I have to speak with you about something, and I’m sorry if my words are unforeseen, but they must be told’’

You felt a ball form in your stomach and your throat tightened. Eru only knows what he was about to say, and you were nervous, terrified even.

‘’Y-Yes?’’ you stuttered, trying to stay calm.

Elrond took your hands in his and stood up, bringing you upwards with him so that he could look into those starry eyes of yours.

‘’I must confess that ever since you came here, I look forward to the next day, even more than before. I wake up in the morning thinking of one thing and one thing only, and that thought never leaves my mind’’ his hold on your hand tightened gently. ‘’You make my heart beat, meleth nín, you warm me and make me complete’’

You couldn’t believe your ears. Never in a thousand years would you have thought that Elrond, lord of Rivendell would have feelings for you.

‘’My lord..’’ you said, still surprised at his sudden confession. ‘’I can’t believe this.. Truly I can’t’’

You looked at your hands in his and then back at him.

‘’I never thought you would feel such emotions towards me, after all I’m just the daughter of a guard, I’m not of royal blood like you-’’

‘’None of these matters to me’’ Elrond quickly said, interrupting you. ‘’What I said, I meant it, I meant all of it’’

You looked at him again, his eyes were full of hope and it made a small smile draw on your reddish lips.

‘’My lord.. I feel the same way’’

Elrond smiled and brought your hands to his lips before giving a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

‘’Well then meleth, from now on please, simply call me Elrond’���

‘’I will, Elrond’’

[doodle-pops]

Hello! I'm back with a discovery I wanna share ˃̵͈̑ᴗ˂̵͈̑..

THIS

https://youtu.be/9PyDbAh1qBI

I'm not really a supporter of annatar x celebrimbor ship coz I'm still angry for what that bish did to my baby.. But this.. This cover.. This reminded me of them but while listening to this cover on repeat gave me an idea.. The troupe is kinda cliché but hear me out..

A bit of a backstory....

Sauron in a guise of a very beautiful elf/maiar named Annatar had his eyes on both Lindon and Eregion with a goal on earning the trust of those who reside there and their leaders, but much to his dismay, it did not go well to his plan as the King of Lindon, Gil galad himself had become wary of him so he moved onto his next target.. Eregion. Not only this place is full of talented smiths and a gifted lord who rules them all but what he also sought in this place is non other than the Lady of Eregion(insert reader), celebrimbor's wife who was known despite of her gentle eyes and pure bright aura, is a smart lady who also have a temper that can rival her husband's fallen grandfather has, she is also a seasoned warrior who fought during the first age. He had always wanted to corrupt this light that the lady has and take her from the start but for the lady, the mere thought of her betraying her kin for power and darkness that she believes will soon be extinguished by the light made her guilty, but what made him more angry is that a certain lowly elf who came from a family of kinslayer managed to crawl his way into her heart

"What a shame" he thinks as the lady had given up on all the fame, reputation, position she has to be a wife of someone who is lower than her. On his mind he can't erase the thoughts on the what ifs that could happen if only she had agreed his proposal and what could they have done with her wits and skills.

The moment he stepped into the beautiful city of Eregion, the lady already had a bad feeling about this so-called "Lord of the Gifts" that despite his bright aura and kind natured persona, something doesn't feel right but couldn't express it to her husband who is delighted and very pleased on this said visitor for what knowledge he would give them so she decided to keep silent and just observe at first..

But she would oh so regret not telling him that..

As the years went on quickly their friendship also grew, This Annatar is the one that he needs, the one who would give him knowledge and power tp craft something new, something much greater that will surpass his grandfather's beautiful gems and will bring greater good to everyone but because of his thirst for knowledge he unknowingly shut the people who deeply cares about him.. Galadriel, Celeborn, even his own wife. He is so focused on what he was doing that he missed all those stares that Annatar had given her.

Until he finally did, Celebrimbor finally opened his eyes on what is happening. The regret and self loathe he had felt for shutting them out and trusting a demon. But it was too late, yes he managed to apologize and fix things between him and his wife/friends, he also managed to make and distribute the three great elven rings to their respective owners. But he is not ready for this war.. To witness the fall of the city he built, his pride and people, but he chose to stand amongst them and defend but was caught, tortured and slaughtered in a inhumane way..

Sorry for that long intro so here we are...

She was angry, mad.. No.. She was enraged and depressed to see the state her husband is in. The soldiers of Eregion(also with the help of their dwarve friends) dragged their lady out despite showing her unwillingness under Celebrimbor's command to protect her. Now she was staying in imladris drowning in her sorrows and the image of her poor husband on her mind. Her friends tries so hard to comfort her and be her solace but despite all of this, it just can't erase this madness inside of her, this anger that she worries that would just erupt if she won't do anything so she had a plan..

Being a (bad bitch and petty woman) smart and cunning woman she is, she wanted to give sauron the taste of his own medicine. So she went to Lindon and discussed with the king, but as she expected he openly and angrily turned her down as her being hurt and dying was the last thing his late friend/cousin wants. But for some reason she had managed to make him agree after some time as he is already worried of Sauron and his powers and this is his last resort for a higher chance of victory (she may or may have not made a powerpoint presentation of this and literally bugged gil galad everyday to listen for the pros of this plan)

(And as I said because she seeks vengeance and also petty) As a young girl, she had always believed the words "Do not do to others what you don't want to be done by you" and her plan is simple. She had always known Sauron's interest in her and used it to his downfall.. She pretended to be weak and drowned with madness and with the help of Gil galad, she managed to pretend that she was now a criminal who took the lives of her own kin out of madness because no one decided to be on her side and that she had no choice but to depend on Sauron which made him glad as not only he had the power that he wants but he also manages to corrupt this lady in front of him.. This went on for years, seducing him, showing that he is only devoted to him, Sauron really thinks that he already had her submit to him and that he has her in the palm of his hands (for some reason she really like playing with fire haha you get it? Fire cause celebrimbor's feänaro's grandchild and sauron is dangerous? Haha well no? Nvm) until the battle of last alliance came and Sauron himself decided to betray her and use her for the last time when she just uno reversed him and told him that she is the one that is being played all along.

In the end when the ring was taken away from him, he realized.. That from the start he was already defeated.. That he was the one who played with fire

OMG SORRY THIS WAS SO LONG AND I GOT LAZY AT THE END I'M SO SORRYYY BUT YEAH I HOPE YOU GOT MY POINT.. I'm not really good with vocabulary as english is not my first language but yeah...

❛ ᗜ❛ ฅ

Don't worry, I'm personally not a fan of the Annatar x Celebrimbor ship at all. I never liked the idea of pairing them, especially after what happened. It never sat well with me.

But I liked this, the whole manipulation game between Annatar and reader mostly. To even attempt to go against Annatar at his own game was such a risky move, but I liked it 💕. Don't worry about your English love, I understood everything >.<

[ragingbookdragon]

There Is Always A Reason

Lindir of Rivendell x Reader

Word Count: 1.2K Warnings: Nothing, except sappiness maybe

Author's Note: Oh hey, I made a gay elf :) -Thorne

**********************************************************************

Relationships of the same sex amongst elves wasn’t uncommon, but it also wasn’t as occurring as the opposite sex ones. The elves had noticed with more or less speculation that it was the humans who had a lack of more understanding when it came to relationships, but then again, if humans didn’t marry and produce heirs, their race would die out—for elves, copulation wasn’t necessarily a major issue as most only ever had two or three heirs. That being said, the elves welcomed love amongst their race, never shied away from the men and women amongst themselves having relationships or attraction to the same sex.

It was, exactly that that brought him to Rivendell from Lórien. A chance at seeing the attendant of Lord Elrond while he was on guard duty for Lady Galadriel, had set his soul aflame with desire. Of course, he had to get leave from the Lady of Light herself, who saw right through his excuses with a hidden, amused smile, knowing he was a youngling, trying to impress a new love.

I just think, perhaps having a messenger between Mirkwood to Rivendell to Lórien is a thoughtful idea, My Lady.

Yes, like the messenger we already have…doing the exact description you have described.

Oh…right…yes, that messenger. I had forgotten that we already had a messenger. You know, Lady Galadriel, perhaps it would be—oh who am I trying to fib? My Lady, I want to see Lindir. That’s why I want to go. I just…want to see him again.

I know.

You know?

I know.

Right…I often forget you can see far beyond our eyes.

I do need a message taken to Rivendell. This, to my dearest Arwen, a letter for only her eyes. And this one for Elrond. Make sure they get them.

I—yes, My Lady! Thank you, My Lady!

And that was how he’d managed to get back to Rivendell, somehow ending up training some of Elrond’s soldiers as well—he hadn’t become part of Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn’s personal guard without skill. It was thorough and hard work, the elves of Rivendell hadn’t seen training like this for decades, perhaps centuries at least. With the threat of Sauron gone (mostly), what battle was there to fight except for the rare orc skirmish? He knew that Lord Elrond’s men enjoyed the challenge, he also knew they absolutely hated how ragged he ran them, pushing them to even the most extremes that their race could handle. It was only three days before half the group was begging for a day of relief, and he, seeing a chance at even speaking to Lindir, agreed.

He found Lindir underneath a plum tree, singing quietly to himself as he scribbled in his notebook. It was…a breathtaking sight, to see the beams of the evening sun haloing around Lindir’s crown, the soft look on his face half shadowed, brown eyes a stunning copper, gold flecks reflecting orange in the rays. He looked beautiful. And it was the weight of his stare that caught Lindir’s attention, hair standing on the back of his neck as startled and embarrassed eyes meet lovesick ones; Lindir, in a rush, snapped the notebook shut, snapping his mouth closed and stared at him while his cheeks turned crimson.

He fumbled with the words to come out of his mouth before he settled on, “I sincerely apologize, Lindir. I meant not to disturb you.”

Lindir swallowed thickly and shook his head. “No, I was not aware that someone was here. Forgive me for not noticing your presence before, my Lord.”

“Don’t call me ‘Lord’.” He laughed, walking over to take a seat on the bench a few feet from him. “I’m simply a soldier.”

“Of high regard,” Lindir retorted. “Your father was Lord Celeborn’s right hand. You were raised in fashion similar to them.”

“Perhaps,” he said, shrugging his soldiers. “But I am no one’s lord. I am simply a soldier, as I said.”

“A good one.”

“Oh? You think so?”

Lindir cleared his throat, face hot. “I mean that I have simply seen your training as of late.”

“So, you’ve been watching?”

“Observing.”

“You could do more than observe, Lindir.”

At that, Lindir laughed in a rather surprised fashion. “I am not a fighter.”

“Oh, everyone is a fighter for something,” he replied, taking the chance to get closer to him by shifting from the bench to sit next to Lindir under the tree. “There is always something that will drive a person to pick up a weapon. Love, greed, pride, rage, grief. There is always a reason.”

“What of you?” he asked, tipping his head to the side. “What do you fight for?”

He paused, thinking deeply about Lindir’s question before he murmured, “Being a soldier is all I have ever known. It is what my father did, and it is what I was raised to do.”

“Haven’t you ever wished to do something else?”

His gaze met Lindir’s, and he said softly, “I have always wished to be someone’s one and only.”

Lindir’s cheeks tinged red again, but a rather enchanted look came over his face. “Is that so?”

“Mhm. I sometimes think about laying down my duty and going with my lover across the land. Just the two of us. Traveling, experiencing things we have never seen or done before.” He smiled. “I eventually want to settle down by the water. A small cabin. Just big enough for us. With everything we need.”

“And your one and only…” Lindir started. “Has she decided to go with you?”

He blinked, looked over at Lindir, saw the hesitation in the elf’s gaze before he chuckled under his breath and replied, “Actually, he has yet to decide anything.” Lindir’s eyebrows rose, but he said nothing. “Most likely because I have yet to court him,” he added, scratching his jaw.

“This elf…at least an elf, I assume? Where is he?”

“Oh, he is in Rivendell. I managed to get leave from Lórien to come here just to see him.”

“Truly?”

“Well, Lady Galadriel sent me with messages for her family, but in all, I am here to court him.”

“Who is it?” Lindir asked. “Is it one of the soldiers you are training?” he seemed to think to himself. “That would make much sense if it were.”

He sighed fondly at the melodist before he rose and plucked a soft, pink, plum blossom from the branch of the tree, bent down and gently placed it behind Lindir’s ear, unable to help but trace the elf’s soft cheek as he pulled back.

“It is, in fact, not one of the soldiers I am training, but someone of much more esteemed company.” He smiled warmly at the look of pure shock on Lindir’s face that quickly changed into a giddy, almost flustered look. “I should retire for the evening though. I know training tomorrow will be much more difficult.” As he walked off, he paused, turned, and asked, “Lindir, would you like to accompany me on a ride tomorrow evening? Just the two of us?”

Lindir’s heart pounded in his chest, and he nodded his head, the corners of his lips rising into a smile. “Yes, I—I would love to.”

He smiled, nodded once, and replied, “Then I shall find you tomorrow evening. Until then, Lindir.”

[queenstarlight]

Imagine always wearing childish clothing and when a ball takes place you decide to wear a revealing dress insead of a cute one and the elves jaws drop

 (the first dress is a lolita dress and the second is a wedding dress, the wedding dress was the only decent thing I could find for what I had in mind)