You were dangling a silver chain in front of your eyes, a diamond pendant in the shape of a star hung from it. It was beautiful, truly a work of art. “It is as if you captured the very essence of our being. The light of the stars could not even shine this bright. You are a true master of your craft.”
“Your words are very kind, but they do not answer my question.”
Celebrimbor had been working on something in secret, for you. A present of some sort. And today, he had finally finished it and brought it to you. It was truly so beautiful but…it was silver. Unlike the vast majority of your kind, you preferred gold. Of course, only a handful of people knew this so you did not blame him at all, but you were unsure of how to tell him.
”I love it, truly I do.”
He sighed deeply and held his hand out, requesting that you place the necklace in it. You did so hesitantly, and he closed it quickly. “I will make you a new one, it will be better. I promise.”
“No wait really, there is nothing wrong with this one.”
”I am sorry but I do not believe you. Please, give me a few days.”
He did not allow you to respond, as he turned around and marched away. You had not told him what was wrong with it, so he was going to have to figure it out on his own. He went back to his forge and placed the necklace on his desk. What on earth was the problem?
Was it too sparkly? Or maybe you did not like the shape? Or the chain, perhaps it was too long? He really had no idea where to begin. If Elrond were here, he would have asked him. Elrond knew nearly everything about you, having been your closest friend for many years now.
“Lord Celebrimbor, are you busy?”
Celebrimbor covered his face with his hands and sighed deeply. ”Wonderful, I am hearing his voice now. Have I truly lost my mind?”
”Are you alright?”
Celebrimbor dropped his hands and looked over at the door. There stood Elrond, with a box in his hands and a concerned look on his face.
“Oh! It really is you! I have been saved! Come in, please. I have something terribly important to ask you.”
Elrond walked over and put the box on the table, beside the necklace. He stared at it for a moment and then turned his attention back to Celebrimbor, who was now pacing around the room.
He stopped pacing suddenly and turned to look at Elrond. The stress of the situation was obvious by the state of his hair, which he had run his hand through many times in the last hour alone. “I made Lady Y/N a necklace and when I gave it to her, it did not seem as though she liked it. Well no, she liked it, but I wanted her to love it. And now I do not know what to do to fix it. You know quite a bit about her, so I was hoping you would be able to help me with this.”
Elrond pulled up a nearby chair and sat down, thinking about what the Lord of Eregion had asked of him. It was true, he knew you very well. So he knew better than anyone that you would not make it obvious if you did not like something, out of consideration for the other person’s feelings. If it was noticeable to Celebrimbor, then it must have been something important.
“My lord, might I see this necklace you speak of? Perhaps it would help me figure it out.”
Celebrimbor nodded and pointed at the table. Elrond stood up and looked around, searching the table for it. Which confused the Elven smith even more.
“Elrond…it is right there.”
”No no, I am looking for the necklace you made for Y/N. That is a silver chain. Perhaps you put it somewhere else?”
Celebrimbor huffed, clearly irritated, and walked over. He pointed at the necklace on the table and Elrond looked up at him in disbelief.
“My lord…please tell me this is not true. You love her, do you not?”
”I love her more than anything. She is the air in my lungs. The only reason I ever need to live in this world. She is my everything.” Celebrimbor’s eyes softened as he said this, his voice laced with pure love.
“How is it then, that you do not know her preferences? Have you never stopped to notice her choice of metal?” Elrond was holding back his laughter now. He knew how excited you were when you found out that the Lord of Eregion was in love with you, and he approved of him, of course. Celebrimbor was a wise elf, his nature was very kind and his love for you would never be doubted. Yet here he was, pointing out the obvious to the ever-so-intelligent elf.
Celebrimbor frowned and crossed his arms. “Elves love silver. It is cold and bright, like our stars.”
“Elves do, yes. But Y/N does not. She favours gold to it, and has even accompanied me to visit Durin many times, only to see the things they craft in gold. Surely you have noticed her jewels are all encased in gold.”
Celebrimbor closed his eyes and imagined you, recalling how you looked earlier today. And in that moment, he realized that he had made a grave error.
“Oh dear, what have I done? I have to remake this, in gold, for her.” He started sketching out what the necklace would look like. A gold chain, two fine gold lines, intertwined and surrounding the diamonds. It was a true work of art.
“Lord Celebrimbor?”
”Hm?”
“Do you have gold?”
”Yes of course I have…oh. No, I do not.”
He spun around and grabbed Elrond by the shoulders. “Might I ask that you bring me some gold from the Dwarves? This is of utmost importance.”
”You need not worry, my main purpose for coming here was to bring you some anyways, a token of appreciation from the Dwarves. Hence, the box I brought with me.” He gestured to the long forgotten box and Celebrimbor let out a sigh of relief.
”You must have been sent by the Valar, my dear friend. Thank you.”
”I am glad I could help. When do you think it will be done? I think it would be best if I brought Y/N here, so that you can give it to her.”
”Ah, that would be a very good idea. Please bring her here in three days, right before the sun sets. I shall have everything ready for her.”
Elrond nodded and left, allowing Celebrimbor to work. This time, everything had to be perfect. There was no room for error.
──── ୨୧ ────
For three days and two nights, he worked away. Barely taking any breaks, sleeping for a minimal amount of time, limiting anything that would distract him. Finally, he had finished what would be the most elegant and beautiful piece he had ever made. The perfect necklace for his perfect person.
True to his word, Elrond brought you to the forge. Though not without a little bit of a fight.
“Elrond, no.”
”Please Y/N, you really have to trust me this time.”
”The last time I trusted you, we ended up facing the wrath of a very angry pack of wolves. I am sure you can understand why I will not trust you now.”
”I promise you, this is for a very good reason! And there is absolutely no danger involved!”
You were hesitant but ended up following him. As long as the destination was within the city walls, nothing bad would happen, so there was no harm in trusting him, just a little bit.
As you approached the forge, you started to get nervous. The last time you saw Celebrimbor, he looked so hurt. It was an image that you could not get out of your head, no matter how hard you tried. You had not meant to hurt him, but it happened nonetheless.
”Elrond, does Lord Celebrimbor know we are coming?”
”Yes of course. Ah and it is not we, just you. Go on.”
He opened the door and ushered you in, despite your pleas for him to come with you. He simply smiled and closed the door behind you, leaving you alone in the large room.
”My lord Celebrimbor?” You called out into the dark, waiting for your eyes to adjust. It was never usually this dark.
“I am here, my starlight.”
At his words, the forge lit up. Not in its usual warm, fiery glow, but in a much softer light. You watched in awe as the entire room was covered in a soft, golden hue. It was very different from the lighting you would see at celebrations.
In the centre of the room stood Celebrimbor, dressed in an all gold outfit. Not a bright, obnoxious gold, but a muted gold. It was beautiful. Between his outfit and the lighting, he looked like an angel. He held his hand out to you, urging you to come towards him. And you would never hesitate to go to him.
You walked over to him, walking slower than usual as you continued to gaze around the room. He had cleaned it up quite a bit, so the soft light was reflecting off of all of his jewels and trinkets. Every sparkle caught your eye.
“You do not have to call me by my title, my dear.” He took both of your hands into his own as you came to stand in front of him.
You laughed softly at his words. He would remind you that as his lover, you could simply refer to him by name, at least once a week. It was something that you were still trying to break out of. “I know, it is just a habit.”
“I have not seen you in three days, that is far too long. I could feel my sanity leaving me.” He pulled you into his arms now, holding you close. As if he were afraid you would fade away.
You buried your face into his chest, inhaling his sweet scent. He always had a lingering scent of firewood on him, and it always made you feel like you were home. No matter where you were, his arms were your safe place. ”Was that not by your design? You instructed that the doors be kept closed. I missed you far too much.”
”You are correct, that was my fault. But it was for a good reason. I have something for you.”
You looked up at him, his eyes were full of love as he played with your hair. “I do not need anything, my love. You are everything I have ever wanted.”
He kissed the top of your head softly. “Humour me then?”
You nodded and he let go of you. He then pulled a small box out of his pocket and placed it in your hand. You opened it gently and gasped. He had made a new necklace for you. It was in gold this time, and somehow the diamond in it shone much brighter than the previous one.
“Oh, it is stunning. I love it, thank you my love. It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
He smiled at your words and took the necklace out of the box, motioning for you to turn around. You did so and he placed the necklace around your neck. “Is it comfortable?”
”It is.”
”Perfect.”
He spun you around again and pulled you back into him. He wanted to live in this moment forever. Just you and him, hidden from the evils in this world.
”I apologize for the first one, I should have known that you do not wear silver. I can assure you, I will not make that mistake again.”
“It bothered you that much?”
”It did.”
You cradled his face in your hands as you stared into his eyes. Full of love, yes, but also incredibly tired. It was clear that he had been working himself to the bone on this, and that worried you. “When was the last time you slept?”
He thought about it for a moment, which already told you everything you needed to know. “Last night.”
”Celebrimbor.”
”I really did! Though, it was only for a couple of hours.”
You sighed and kissed the tip of his nose gently. “Come, let us rest now then.”
He could not argue with you as you dragged him to bed. You snuggled up beside him, absorbing his warmth as you usually did.
“Promise me you will be here when I wake up?” His voice was no louder than a whisper.
“Of course, I will be here with every sunrise. I promise you this.”
He hummed softly at your reply and allowed himself to finally fall asleep, safe and warm in your arms. Forever his, forever you
In that case i would like to request numbers 36 and 48 from your celebration prompts for an Sharp x fellow professor reader ☺️
First time writing for Sharp so sorry if it's bad 😬
lil disclaimer: reader is a fairly new Ancient Runes professor after working as a traveling runes researcher for years.
Nightcap
Professor Sharp x Professor!reader
1.5k words
cw: drinking, fluff
You were finishing up your nightly rounds when light from a cracked open door catches your eye. It’s coming from the Potions classroom so your immediate thought is a student is up far too late brewing. You have your wand at the ready, fully prepared to tell off the pupil and remind them that they aren’t to be out of bed after curfew. You hold your breath as you ease the door open quietly. You scan the classroom. There’s no student in sight and all the stations are clean and empty.
“Huh,” you breathe, noticing the light is coming from the open office.
So not only was a student out of bed, they were in a professor’s office, likely stealing from Professor Sharp’s personal stores.
“You know, it’s quite late,” you say as you enter the office expecting to see a student caught red-handed.
There was no student. Again, but worse.
A sigh.
“I suppose it is…” Professor Sharp says, looking up from the pile of essays on his desk.
“So sorry, Professor!” you say quickly, eyes wide. “I thought a student was in here.”
“No, it’s just me.” He looks you over. “Finishing your rounds, I assume?”
You nod. He sighs again, sending worry coursing through you. Were you annoying him by simply being in his office? You really had thought a student was in here.
“I think I will finish these tomorrow,” he says, adjusting the stack of paper and moving it to the side. Then he looks back at you. “Would you care for a nightcap?
The offer takes you by surprise. Yes, you were coworkers, but Sharp usually kept his distance from the professors. When you started, Professor Garlick described him as a bit harsh and standoffish. Yet, here he was offering you a drink after you interrupted his grading. He could have easily just dismissed you, kicking you out of his office and claiming he was going straight to bed himself. The offer hangs in the air as all of this runs through your mind. You’re not sure if Sharp notices your delay in answer, having stood up to retrieve the alcohol and cups from a cupboard.
“If you’re pouring,” you say, taking a step into the office.
You remove some things off of a barrel and move it closer to his desk. When Sharp turns around with the drinks, he lets out a low laugh; it’s the first time you’ve heard him laugh all term.
“You could’ve conjured a chair, you know,” he tells you and you blush.
You look down at the barrel you’re perched on. “Bit late for that now…”
He sets the drink down in front of you before bringing over his own barrel.
“Also, you needn’t call me Professor. Aesop is fine.”
“I’m still getting used to being a professor myself, that’s all,” you say, reaching for one of the cups. “Being back here, even after years of being in the field, I feel like a student again.”
“I remember that feeling. At least it wasn’t injury that brought you here.”
You snort a laugh, realizing that it was probably an insensitive response since Sharp’s leg was why he was teaching rather than still being an auror.
“Yay for needing financial stability,” you say before taking a sip, hoping it will prevent you from putting your foot in your mouth again.
“You’re still doing what you’re passionate about though, aren’t you?”
“It’s more consulting and writing about ancient runes. I really liked getting to travel and seeing where they are inscribed, discovering new artifacts. That’s a bigger thrill than standing in front of students and lecturing.”
“Better than me. Closest thing I have is tracking down which student had the gall to ‘borrow’ from my personal stores,” he says, using air quotes.
You lean toward him. “Has someone been stealing?”
“Not recently,” he says, giving you an amused smile. “Hoping to show off some detective skills?”
“Goodness, I don’t know if I would actually be any help with that. More your department of expertise,” you say with a shake of your head. “I had thought I was catching a student red-handed when I came in.”
“Must’ve been a disappointment to find me,” he says, looking away from you.
Your eyes widen slightly.
“No. No! It’s better I found you… I’m glad I found you… Trust me… Although, I didn’t mean to interrupt your grading.”
“It’s good you interrupted. I was probably giving Acceptable work O’s.”
“And we can’t be having that,” you say with a small laugh.
Sharp looks over you again, a smile playing at his lips. It’s an unfamiliar look on his face, but you like it. You think you’d like to see him genuinely smile more often.
“Besides the name thing, are you adjusting to Hogwarts well?”
“Oh, I think so. I do enjoy not having to sleep in a tent.” You debate your next words. “It’s also nice to share a drink with someone.”
Sharp gives you a disbelieving look. “I find it difficult to believe that someone as beautiful as you didn’t have someone to drink with.”
“You flatter me, Pro-... Aesop,” you say, correcting yourself as you almost called him Professor Sharp. “But it’s true. I usually drank alone, unless a friend was visiting or I was collaborating on a project.” You take a sip of your drink. “I’m fairly convinced that I’m difficult to approach.”
“Some people are scared of a beautiful woman who exudes confidence,” Sharp says.
With the drink in your system, you feel a bit more confident, which you’re appreciative of.
“Are you, Aesop, scared of beautiful women who exude confidence?” you ask, leaning forward again, your elbows digging into your knees.
Sharp clears his throat. He’s scanning your face, trying to get a proper read of your intentions. When he offered a nightcap, he hadn’t expected the conversation to take this turn, not that he was complaining. He just wanted to be sure. He smirks at you.
“Don’t get my hopes up, darling, if you’re just going to leave like everyone else.”
You raise an eyebrow with your head cocked to the side.
“Leave like everyone else?” you repeat, unsure of who had all left him.
He sighs but his expression toward you is soft. “Being an auror isn’t kind on one’s relationships.”
“Neither is being a traveling researcher,” you say with a smile. “But you’re retired and I’m stationary.”
“Those are… both true.”
“And I have no intentions of leaving.”
Sharp was looking at you with an intense look on his face. One that was begging you to be serious and sincere. His internal thoughts were asking how he ended up in this situation, with the temptation of you in front of him, saying things he had only dreamed of. Since his auror partner died, he had avoided getting close and forming real relationships with anyone. But something about you had him offering you a drink. Something about you got his hopes up that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to be so closed off to the rest of the world.
You finish your drink and set the cup on his desk. He’s still staring at you. It’s obvious he’s lost in his thoughts of uncertainty.
“Aesop, just kiss me.”
He didn’t need to be told twice by the beautiful woman in front of him who exudes confidence. He sets his own cup down next to yours before leaning forward toward you. One of his hands gently holds your face as he brings his near. His eyes hesitantly search yours, half expecting you to say “Sike” and pull away. You don’t. You’re waiting patiently for him to close the space between you.
When he does, you can’t stop yourself from smiling. The kiss was a little too forceful, but he quickly eases the pressure. It shifts into something far more gentle in nature than you thought Sharp had in him. You deepen the kiss, one hand going to hold his arm and the other finding his knee. Your lips move in sync.
You feel breathless when he pulls away. There’s a nervous smile on his face that gains confidence as he sees your own smile. There air between you is charged with unsaid emotions and the uncertainty of where this left you.
“This is probably my favorite way to end nightly rounds,” you say with a nervous laugh.
“With a nightcap?” he asks, earning a light shove from you.
“Aesop,” you say, a lightness in your voice.
“Well, um, if it was late when you first got here…” His voice trails off.
You laugh, “It certainly is late now.”
You stand up and walk to the door, ready to say good night. Sharp follows you, but the confidence in his walk is hindered by the development in your relationship.
He clears his throat. “So this was a one-night thing?”
You shake your head, going on your tiptoes so you can press a kiss to his cheek. “There’s no way this was just a one-night thing.”
Pairing: Aesop Sharp x Professor!Reader
Requested? Nope, this is a little self-indulgent piece tbh
Plot: Aesop has been stopping by your classroom during lunch lately.
Aesop started coming to your classroom during lunch a week ago. He didn't stop by every day, but every few days or so. It was curious, and you were wondering why he suddenly had free time to visit you. During lunch, he normally tended to his duties in the classroom while the students were away for a while.
The first time he came by, he asked you about a potential new potion he was thinking about teaching to his students. You gave him your opinion of course, but instead of leaving after getting an answer, he stayed and sat with you for the remainder of lunchtime.
Today when he stopped by, you were sipping on some tea made from a tea blend that Mirabel had given you, and munching on some custard tarts while you worked on grading the arithmancy homework your students had turned in.
"Did you come by to help me grade this homework?" You call out when you hear the door open, because although your back was turned to it, you knew it was Aesop.
"There's a reason I chose to teach potions and not arithmancy," Aesop replies as he approaches the table you're working at, and you can't help but grin at his words. Normally that's the closest thing to humor you're going to get out of him.
You turn to look up at him as he sits down, and you offer him a soft smile before you motion to the tea pot that was sitting nearby.
"Tea?" You ask, and he gives you a silent nod before you begin to pour him a cup, and you slide it and the saucer over to him. "Mirabel made the blend for me. It's delightful," You tell him as you lean back in your seat, and watch him take a drink from his cup. He looks pleased with it.
"You know, you always tell your students that you're too busy to speak when class isn't in session. But you have time to sit here with me?" You ask him more as a joke, but you could swear you heard him chuckle.
"Perhaps I'd rather spend my free time with you than entertaining their questions that I've answered countless times," He tells you with a slight raise of his eyebrows, and you were just hoping he would miss the blush that rose to your cheeks.
"What are you trying to tell me, Aesop?" You ask him, hoping you would be able to get more out of him.
He actually chuckles then, and he takes another drink of his tea before he sets down the little cup. By now he has an... affectionate look in his eyes.
"I'm trying to tell you that I'd like to see you outside of work, Y/N. Let me take you out one day,"
While you were hoping for this response from him, you couldn't help but still feel surprised by it. You send him a little nod, and he smirks slightly before he leans forward and snags a tart from your plate.
"Splendid. And I'm going to take one of these since you depleted my stash of toffees that were in my desk," He tells you, and your eyes widen slightly; you didn't think he would notice that you would take one... or a few when you would stop by the potions classroom.
Sorry for the long absence, hopefully I am back for good! Here is a little something I have been working on in my spare time!
Word Count: ~3k
Tags: @morganas-pendragons @pentaghasm @itskhxnsa
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“Y/N please, I need you to work with me here.”
The ever so stoic High King was now chasing you around the entire city of Eregion. His purpose for this was to get you to go through some potential suitors, as you had been putting it off for far too long.
“Absolutely not, I already know that I do not want any of them, thank you very much.”
”I am not going to force you to come back with me, I just need you to listen to me.”
You stopped running and turned around. It was quite interesting to see the ever so powerful Gil-Galad just standing there, pleading with you. You would never admit it to him, but he often reminded you of your late father. And for that reason alone, you decided to hear him out. “Fine. But not here, it is too…”
You gestured around vaguely and he nodded. Too open, too public.
“You have been in this city far longer than I have, I will follow you.”
You turned around and began walking. He sped up a bit to catch up with you and then matched your pace. It was nice, walking through the bustling city streets, watching as the sun hit the trees in a way that made them glow.
You finally arrived at a small garden. It was far away from the streets and was very secluded. A spot that you had not found on your own, but was shown to you by someone who had sensed your desire to escape the loud city.
You sat down on the grass and sighed. This conversation could not be avoided forever. “Tell me, my King, why have you come for me?”
Gil-Galad sat down across from you. He did not seem tense but he was clearly deep in thought. Trying to find the right words. “Y/N, you have done so many things in your life, things that should be written down, to be remembered for all of eternity. But you have done these things alone.”
“I have had Elrond in some of my adventures.”
”Yes but you should have someone who is closer to you. Someone to rely on.”
”I can rely on Elrond. I trust him entirely.”
At your words, the King smiled. ”Perhaps you should not. After all, he is the reason behind me being able to find you.”
To say you were shocked by this would be an understatement. Your best friend had betrayed you. Though, you knew he would not have done such a thing if your life was at stake, so you were not entirely upset.
“My King…the Elves you have found…I have nothing against them, truly. I just do not believe that they are right for me.”
”I figured as much. So I have brought with me an entirely new batch. Consider, option one.” He pulled out a scroll and unrolled it in front of you.
“You had someone draw him?”
”Not just him, all of them.”
”Oh…wonderful. Let us begin then.”
”This one is a warrior. He is praised throughout the lands and is known for being stern yet gentle. His achievements are nothing short of impressive and he is very open to trying new hobbies in his downtime. Your thoughts?”
”Sounds like a fine choice indeed.”
”Yes he is, he would take care of you-“
”No.”
Gil-Galad stopped and stared at you. Your gaze was no longer on the picture in front of you, but at something else, hidden between the trees. Something, or someone, he could not see from his angle. “What is the real reason behind this? It seems as though you have nothing against him, so why have you rejected this proposal?”
You sighed and looked back at him, and then at the portrait. He was very good looking, and he did have a gentle look in his eyes. But he was not him. Which was something that you knew, and Gil-Galad did not.
”There is someone who has caught my interest.”
The High King sat up suddenly, intrigued by this news. It was fine if it was not one of his picks, as long as you were happy. “Oh? So this is why you have been avoiding this conversation, I see. Well, tell me about him. What is his trade, where is he, what is he like?”
“Well, he’s an Elven smith, he lives here, in Eregion, and he is…words alone could not describe him but I shall try my best. He is patient, understanding, he is so observant that it almost seems as though he is reading your mind. He is very confident in his craft, but not overly egotistical. He understands the very deepest parts of my soul and never stops me from doing what I need to do in order to fulfill my own desires. He is, in every way, my perfect partner.”
Your gaze drifted again as you said all of this. He was standing on the other side of the hedges that surrounded the garden you were in, admiring the flowers that grew from them. With the light of the setting sun, he looked ethereal.
“If he is so perfect, why have you not said anything about him? Or introduced him to me at least.”
You laughed a bit at his words.
“Introduce you? As what, exactly? My friend, my King, or my father?”
”As your guardian I suppose. Your father asked me to keep an eye on you, before he passed. I am simply following his wishes. Ah, and ensuring you marry a fine Elf is also a part of his wishes, so I would like to meet this Elven smith. Who seems to be on the other side of this garden wall, shall we?”
He stood up suddenly and brushed off his cloak, straightening it out and making his appearance more regal, and less as though he was having a picnic.
“Oh, oh no that is not a great idea. He has had no time to prepare, it would be improper of us to-“
”Nonsense. I am the High King and I demand we meet him now. Come.” He began making his way to the entrance of the garden and you had no choice but to accept defeat and follow him. As he spun around the corner, he nearly knocked someone to the ground. Which you would have found amusing, had it not been the very Elf you were both looking for.
“Ah, my apologies, Lord Celebrimbor. I was searching for someone and did not expect to run into you.”
“No worries at all. Perhaps I can help you find this person?”
Helpful and kind, as always. You felt absolutely terrible for him as you had brought this situation upon him. And in that moment, you realized something. The Great Elven smith had absolutely no idea about your feelings for him.
“Perhaps you could. There was someone around this area who caught dear Y/N’s attention, and so I wanted to speak with the young Elf myself. Any idea where he might have gone?”
Celebrimbor’s eyes shifted to meet yours. In that instant, he understood everything and knew that you needed his help. “Ah, I was not aware that Lady Y/N had her eye on someone. I do vaguely remember seeing a young Elf here. Perhaps I could accompany you as you search for him?”
”A fine idea.”
It was quite a spectacle indeed, seeing the High King, the Lord of Eregion, and one of the most powerful Elven warriors, roaming around in search of someone who technically does not exist. As the High King marched on ahead, leading the way through the streets, Celebrimbor fell back to walk beside you.
“I assume you will fill me in on what is happening?” He was walking close to you, though he still felt the need to lean in to speak to you. Perhaps he did not want your conversation to be heard by the King. Or perhaps, he wanted to catch the sweet scent of your perfume.
“Of course, but that will have to wait. For now, I could really use your help with getting our lovely High King to stop looking for this mystery person.”
”He does not exist?”
”Who?”
”The mystery person.”
”He does but it is terribly complicated.”
”Very well, in exchange for my help, I will expect a very detailed run down on everything.”
You nodded and he sped up to speak with Gil-Galad. You could not hear what they were saying, but a few seconds later, they both stopped walking and turned to face you.
“I will be heading back now. When you are ready to introduce me to your special person, I will be ready.” With a swift nod in your direction, the High King left. He seemed oddly flustered but you did not pay too much attention to it.
“My lord, how did you do that?”
Celebrimbor smiled but said nothing as he gestured for you to follow him. He led you back to the forge, a place you had visited frequently over the past few months, and sat down at one of the tables. Taking that as a sign, you sat down across from him.
“I have held up my end of our agreement, now it is your turn.”
You nodded and took a moment to gather your thoughts. In this very moment, you would be telling him everything. Your feelings for him would come to light and your relationship with him would change. For better or for worse, you could not tell.
You fiddled with a chip on the table, avoiding his eyes at any cost. “Where should I start…perhaps with the High King-“
”Start with the mystery person. I am more curious about that.”
At his words, you stopped fiddling and looked up at him. He was leaning forward on the table now, with his hands locked in front of him. There was a look of curiosity and…something else that you could not quite pinpoint, in his eyes.
”Very well, he is someone who I met in this city, he is very kind and-“
”What does he do?”
”Are you going to continue cutting me off?” You frowned slightly and leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms. He was usually quite curious but today, it was much worse.
“Just this last time.”
”Fine. He makes fine jewelry and other things, forged in fire.”
“A smith.”
”Correct. As I was saying, he is-“
”Is it me?”
You burst out laughing. ”You just told me you would stop cutting me off!”
He said nothing as he got up and walked over to you. He knelt down beside you and took your hands into his own as he gazed into your eyes. Desperate, yet calm.
“Please say it is.”
You said nothing as he continued to stare at you, his eyes searching for anything that would tell him your answer.
You, of course, knew your answer. But knowing that he felt the same way, it made you hesitate. He was everything you had always wanted, and he felt the same way as you, so why on earth were you so scared?
“Forgive me, perhaps I have overstepped.” He stood up suddenly and let go of your hand, his warmth leaving with him.
“My lord, please allow me to collect my thoughts for a moment, there is much I need to say.” You mumbled softly and looked down at the floor, not wanting to see the hurt in his eyes.
His eyes softened, not that you could see it, and he held his hand out once more, this time requesting that you stand up with him. You took his hand and stood up, and he pulled you right into him, holding you as if he feared he would lose you.
“Take your time, I will not leave you unless you request it of me.” His voice was no louder than a whisper, as he rested his head on top of yours.
It felt nice, being in his arms. He made you feel safe, warm, and as if you could face the greatest evils in this world and come out unharmed. But it also made you feel an immense amount of fear, for losing him would be the end of your world.
“For the first time in my life, I am afraid. I have fought in many battles, slain many enemies, and yet this is where I feel true fear.” You lifted your head a bit, so that it could rest on his shoulder.
”What are you afraid of? I will remove it from your path, if you would only let me.”
His words brought you some sort of relief but you could not shake the sinking feeling inside you. Finding the words to explain that feeling was no easier.
”What I am afraid of is far beyond your power, my lord. It is something that you would not be able to fight, nor protect me from. I am terribly afraid of losing you. To what, I am not sure, but I know that losing you would be the same as losing all that is good in this world. And that scares me, more than you could ever imagine.”
He said nothing for a moment as he held you a little bit tighter. Your worst fear was losing him, which confirmed your feelings for him. On one hand, this was a good thing, because his mind was no longer racing. But on the other hand, the thing that you feared was not something that he could promise you. Even the life of an Elf was uncertain.
“I cannot promise that I will be here forever, but I can promise that every moment we spend together will be beautiful, because I will make it that way. I will paint the skies in every one of your favourite colours, if it would make you smile. I would fight every battle for you, if it meant that you would live in a world full of peace. You, my darling, are the most important person in my life. Anything you want, you need only ask.”
If he no longer wished to be a smith, he could absolutely be a poet. His words made you feel so loved and so wanted. Perhaps you could ignore the nagging in the back of your mind, and let yourself be with him. After all, he was not a warrior, how much danger could he possibly be in?
”Celebrimbor?”
”Hm?”
”Promise me you will stay with me forever.”
He pulled back from you a bit, still keeping you in his arms, but he wanted to see your face. Your eyes were as beautiful as ever, but they were slightly watery, which made them glisten like the gems he often worked with. Though, your eyes were far more breathtaking. He could stare into them forever, if you would allow him to.
“I will stay with you until the very end, my love. Until the light of the stars fade away and leave this world in the dark, I will stay by you.”
That was all you needed to hear. You leaned back into him and buried your face in his chest, letting your tears fall. They were tears of relief, of course, but you could not stop them from falling.
The light from the moon shone through the large windows of the forge, bathing you both in a soft, white light. The moment was perfect, something straight out of a fairy tale. Everything was well.
Until it was not..
You stood before the crumbling doors of the forge, fighting the urge to turn around and run. The city was ablaze, smoke filled the sky, and the Lord of Eregion was nowhere to be found. This was the last place you chose to check. You feared the worst and walking through those doors would only confirm it. You prayed to the Valar for him to be there, waiting for you. Even if he was injured, you could work with that.
You took a deep breath as you stepped inside. There was less smoke in the room than there was outside, but it was also terribly dark. You lifted your necklace and whispered softly to it. It began to glow, and you used that light to make your way through the room. It was a gift from Celebrimbor, the necklace. He wanted you to always have some light with you, so that you were never in the dark.
As you continued walking through the forge, you heard a loud snapping noise. You had stepped on an arrow. The only reason for an arrow to be in the forge was if Celebrimbor was experimenting with them, figuring out some way to craft the perfect weapon. Or something along those lines.
A soft dripping noise caught your attention suddenly. You lifted the necklace a bit more, allowing the light to shine over the higher parts of the room. And it was in that moment that you saw him.
Pinned to the pillar, arrows sticking out of him like rays of light, your lover was indeed waiting for you.
You fell to your knees in despair. The state of the city had prepared you for the worst, but somehow this was far past that. He had been killed, in the most brutal way possible, and left behind as a sign. Or a warning. You did not care for the reason. All you knew was that he was betrayed. The great Lord of Eregion would never allow something like this to happen, not unless he was tricked.
Your sadness turned into anger as your mind began to race. In his letters to you, he spoke of an Elven messenger, who went by the name of Annatar. His sudden appearance combined with the rumours you had heard of a dark being roaming the lands had brought you back to the city. Against the High King’s orders, of course. You had feared that something horrible was going to happen, and it appeared as though you were correct. And, of course, too late.
You made a vow in that moment to avenge the man you loved. You would travel through the lands in search of the man who betrayed him, and you would bring him to his knees. And only then, would you rest.
“I will see you again, my love. Wait for me.”
You took off your necklace and placed it on him. You no longer needed to walk with the light, for yours had died with him.
@pentaghasm and I have been playing ideas off each other for a fun project I'm working on, which will be revealed here within the next month. in the meantime, let's clear out the ideas I've had in my drafts for 3 months!
i intended this to be a drabble and it FAILED lol
tag: @celebrimbormylove @thesolarangel @ladyoflindon @erebusbabylon - let me know if you want to be tagged!!
***
Time passes. You find out that the more you and Celebrimbor spend time together, the more comfortable you feel and the more willing you are to initiate the physical contact he so clearly desires. It's so easy with him.
A soft knock at his forge door late in the evening beckons a new idea: Stargazing. Hopefully, it has the intended effect.
"Celebrimbor?"
It takes a moment for him to reach the door and answer to, but when he does, Celebrimbor brightens at the sight of you. "My love, come in!" He exclaims, ushering you inside and then frowning once he realizes you might not be making a social call. "It's late... are you well? Or has something happened?"
You shake your head. "No no, nothing is wrong, love. I wanted to ask you something."
He relaxes visibly and smiles. "You may ask me whatever you want."
"The stars are particularly clear outside. Would you-" You shuffle nervously on your feet. "Would you like to come out and gaze with me? I've found a spot over the last few times I've done this. I'd like to share it with you."
He's pleasantly surprised by your request, and his face shows it. "I would be honored to," Celebrimbor remarks. "Lead the way."
Before you approach the door, you extend your hand expectantly. There is a moment when Celebrimbor just stares down at it, his brain working overtime to try and lift his own. His fears and insecurities swirl within his mind, but he finally finds the ability to move his fingers and feel the warmth of your skin on his.
It's heavenly, it is addictive. How has he gone this long without it?
You grin. That's a good step forward. "Come on, I think you'll love this. You may want to grab your cloak." You reach upward to throw the hood of your own over your head, fingertips brushing the holly leaf hairpin he'd helped you craft several months before.
Celebrimbor follows you out of the forge willingly, in the process of unfolding his own cloak so he can put it on. His own holly leaf pin stands proud against his collarbone.
He frowns as he realizes you are heading towards the city gates.
"Wait, wait-" He calls. "Where is this spot?"
"Shhh... You'll see. It's not too far out." You absently wave your hand over your shoulder at the buildings looming about the two of you. "There is no suitable spot in the city to get the view you see out here."
You come to a stop outside of the city gates. Knowing that you are within Celebrimbor's charge, the guards are familiar with you and the fact you are constantly in and out of the city. They know your spot. They know that you frequently leave here in search of quiet, of peace.
They also know you are always armed.
Celebrimbor follows you out of the city, eyes darting around in the darkness. A part of him is yelling that that they should not be out here without guards, and not when it's this dark out. He curses himself for not having thought to bring anything to defend them should the worst happen.
So enveloped in his own worries, Celebrimbor doesn't realize where you are leading him until the two of you come to a stop.
"Hey, we're fine out here. I promise. I come out here almost every night." Whispering softly in Quenya, you lean forward toward the fireflies at your feet who brighten at your command. It is not enough light to hide the view above them, but it provides a dim enough glow for them to see one another. "Look up, Celebrimbor."
Celebrimbor drags himself out of his head and does as you ask. Suddenly, his own fears are the last thing on his mind.
"This..." Celebrimbor falters as he looks over to you, eyes filled with warmth and quiet yearning. "I am honored you share this with me."
Black bleeds into midnight blue that covers an entire canvas of stars above you. The river echoes in the distance, a quiet bubbling of water that flows around Eregion.
You motion to the ground. "The grass is dry and the cloaks are warm. will you lay with me?" The words are out before you can take them back, and your cheeks redden at the implication and how it will likely frighten him. You want him so badly to feel safe like you do around him.
Celebrimbor wills himself to not think of the other ways your words can be interpreted. It was highly irregular for the Lord of Eregion to be out past dark without guards, let alone with an unchaperoned elleth. He quashed any thoughts of propriety by reminding himself you were different.
You settle yourself against his side with comfortable ease, extending your hand for his after resting your head on his shoulder. "Let me see your hand," You said. "I have many tales to tell about these stars, but you cannot leave without being able to recognize them. It would be most unfortunate."
Celebrimbor gives you his hand without question, though he wonders what that has to do with the stars.
You smile down at him and drag your fingers across his palm before asking, "Is this okay? I don't want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable."
Celebrimbor suppresses a shiver and instead smiles at you reassuringly. "I promise you that you never make me feel uncomfortable."
You note his response and lean inward to press a kiss to his cheek before beginning to point out each constellation.
The feel of your fingers against his palm was one thing, but your lips? On his cheek? Celebrimbor isn't sure how to react. Does he kiss you back? On the cheek? Lips?
Does he just smile and shrug it off as you tell him about the stars?
His heart hammers loudly in his chest, which makes it difficult to discern anything you're saying. He swallows hard to regain his control once more.
"Hey," You say softly. You're propped up on your elbow over him, one hand on his chest, brow furrowed in concern. "Where did you go?"
Celebrimbor curses himself inwardly. Of course you noticed. How could you not? You notice everything about him.
"Forgive me," He murmurs, looking up at you. "I sometimes have difficulty getting out of my own mind." He lifts your joined hands and gently kisses the back of your own. "Please, continue."
You frown but settle back down, continuing to use your joined hands to point out the stars. There's a quiet passion behind your words, an aching familiarity for something you can't quite put your finger on.
When your voice falters off, you shiver and tighten your arms around yourself.
"Are you cold?" Celebrimbor asks. He is already sitting up and reaching for his cloak so he can wrap it around you. It's as warm as he is, and it smells like him, and you want nothing more than for him to wrap his arms around you.
A soft sigh breaks past your lips as his fingers press against your shoulders. "Thank you." You murmur, meeting his eyes over our shoulder. "For coming with me."
"I'm honored you thought of me, my dear. It does me well to get out of the city every now and then, I think." He smiles warmly at you. "It is more enjoyable in your company."
You tilt your head at him. "Will you walk me home?" You ask softly.
Celebrimbor lets out a bark of laughter. "As if I would let you walk back alone in the dark of night," There's a mischievous glint in his eyes as he teases you. "You must think me some unfeeling cad."
You smile and wrap your arm through his own. "Oh no," You argue. "You are my heart's protector. You are quite the opposite of unfeeling. Lead me home, love."
"L-Love?" Celebrimbor repeats, completely dumbfounded at the endearment. Between the burn of your touch and the ache in him at your obvious deeper affections, he's not sure how to process all of this at once. The two of you haven't spoken at length about deeper feelings yet.
His are anchored to your soul, your existence, your smile.
All of you.
Awe flashes across your face at his confusion. He really does not understand how he too is worthy of the love he so often gives to everyone else. "Celebrimbor," You close the space between the two of you and reach for his hands. "It is a mere term of endearment for someone who knows how much I care about him by now. I could also say sweetheart, or my love if you want."
Your teasing tone eases the pounding of your own heart. It's equally as frightening for you as it is for him.
Celebrimbor clears his throat, pushing back the swelling emotion that threatened to come up his throat, and takes your hand in his. "Forgive me, I was simply unprepared. I will take any endearment you offer." He gestures back toward the city. "Might I escort you home?"
"Always."
He leads you back into Eregion and to your abode that he'd set aside for you in your earliest days of living in the city. It is not far from his own, and that is what you prefer.
When you arrive at your door, you turn and pull your hood down to properly look at him. He is the picture of beauty - all unkempt curls and soft eyes - as he patiently waits for you to go inside.
"I..."
Words fail you for the first time that night. You instead allow your actions to speak for you, stepping into Celebrimbor's space to stand on your tiptoes and cup his jaw with your hand as you kiss his cheek.
You linger just a little bit longer than before. His breath shudders beneath your fingers as you part, and your eyes fall on his parted lips as you step toward the door.
"Would you like me to join you for breakfast tomorrow?" You ask.
His eyes brighten. Celebrimbor is nothing if not one for his routine. "I would love nothing more," He replies, lips parting in that brilliant smile reserved for you that often makes your knees weak. "Sleep well, love."
You watch him go with a fierce ache in your heart.
Summary: You are Gil-Galad's most trusted warrior. With the centuries of history between you two - and the multiple wars you have both survived before and during his rule - it is hard for you to ignore the obvious: You are his complement, his other half, the shield to his sword. You two work as a unit. Everyone in Lindon knows it.
So what happens when he comes close to losing half of that unit?
Set during S2 of ROP - loosely AU to episode 8 (we don't go into the courtyards of Eregion)
You are one of the earliest memories of his younger years as an ellon. The years where he'd been living in the Grey Havens under the watchful eye of the Shipmaster, a young Elf named Artanaro who had nothing left but himself and the clothes on his back.
You had become a soldier at a very early age, taking to the spear with a gracefulness and poise unlike any of your other comrades who served alongside you in the war. You were raised in the heat of battle. Armor was your skin. Your weapon, your hands.
He admired you deeply. Your training commander at the time had noticed that the two of you were the only ones to take to the spear, and so it came to pass that you were often paired together for spars.
For sparring, for the front, for training. The other Elves whispered about you and how formidable you were as a unit the fields of war.
“What will you call yours?”
You watched him turn the weapon over in his hands. Once, twice, three times, long fingers flexing as it spun for him to properly admire the craftsmanship of the spear that had just been granted to him.
“Aeglos,” The Elvish word rolled off his tongue with an awe that made you shiver. You knew as well as he did that he would be known for being Aeglo’s wielder, among what other accomplishments he took to throughout his years. “It has a number of meanings, Mellon. For this one, however, I think snow thorn is more than appropriate.”
It fits him.
You averted your gaze away from him, desperate to keep your composure as you peered down at the spear in your own hands. He had such a deeply penetrating gaze. That unnerved you. You had to be unflappable. Something such as affection or love could not dare to make you weak.
You would not risk weakness on the field. You would not risk having something to lose.
“I think I have its name,” You announced. “I’ll call it Telmnar.”
Ereinion tilted his head curiously. He was not familiar with that term. “And what does that translate to?”
“Fire of Heaven.”
As the years passed, you took to chaos and disorder. Ereinion Gil-Galad took to the art of ruling much, much later in life with a firm hand and a soft heart. He never lost his spirit. Neither did you.
On the field, the pair of you were a force to be reckoned with. One unit. That’s what Elrond had said the first time he’d seen the two of you fight in the sparring yards of Lindon.
Gil-Galad just hadn’t expected the paralyzing fear that came with nearly losing the other half of your unit.
He sees you fall from across the battlefield. There are so few of you left, so many Elven bodies that litter the grounds of a scorched battlefield that Gil-Galad is sure will be their ruin. Elrond is catatonic over the Dwarvish army. You are fueled by your fury, helm hiding the fire he knows lights your eyes as you spin Telmnar with all the grace of poise of a practiced soldier.
Despite the destruction, you are the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. That is why Ereinion is so shaken when he sees the blade pierce your side through the gaps in your armor. A roar echoes across the battlefield as you twist your body to dismember the offending orc, Telmnar faltering in your grasp as it impales the body at the same time you fall to the earth.
Everything seems to blur together after that. Elrond is the one to rush toward you once clarity reaches him once again, removing the chest piece of your armor to better ascertain the severity of your injuries.
"Ereinion," You whisper. "Tell Ereinion..."
Telmnar gleams out of the corner of your eye as a hand reaches down to remove the spear from the body before laying it down beside Aeglos. They really are beautiful blades: A perfect pair for the best unit that the Elven armies had ever seen.
“Tell him what?” Elrond asks. He wants to keep you awake for as long as possible before blood loss sends you into unconsciousness.
Tears prick the back of your eyes. You’ve spent centuries trying so hard to keep your weaknesses out of harms way, to bury that secret you have kept of growing affections for Gil-Galad so he too would not come to be a name among the list of those you’ve loved and lost.
“He was never my weakness,” You whisper. “He was always my strength.”
"We may have lost many today, sweet friend," Elrond's voice is the only thing keeping you awake as he works to staunch the flow of blood from your body. "But you will not be among them."
You think of Gil-Galad, of Celebrimbor and Arondir, of Galadriel. They will not be able to take Adar on their own. They will need all the men they can muster.
Your innate desire to protect those you love is what coaxes you to move amid Elrond's healing, but not before a firm hand presses you back down into the ground and cradles your head in its embrace. Your eyes slowly shift across the open expanse of sky above you until your gaze falls on the dark eyes of the High King of the Noldor.
“Don’t move.” He commands, firm but soft as his fingers flex around your shoulder. “We will work diligently. Rest.”
Relief washes over you as you raise your fingers to graze his cheek. All you can see is blood and dirt, none of that smooth pale skin you’ve grown so accustomed to over the years.
He’s murmuring something low in Quenya as his hand comes upon your wound, and your eyes roll back into your head as Gil-Galad’s healing begins to seal what damage has been done. Elrond stands beside in waiting for the administration of bandages and salves so it will heal well.
The fingers of his free hand card through your hair as you fall unconscious in Gil-Galad’s capable hands.
***
When you first wake, there is a song on the wind. You’re being carried on a stretcher through what appears to be a path through a valley with elves on either side of you.
Panic rushes through your body until you recognize the voice that the wind carries. Gil-Galad has known since you were young that music was one of your only means of coping as it often brought you such serenity. Especially if the music came from him, his lips, his soul.
“Be well, my friend.” It is Camnir’s voice you hear closest to you instead as his face comes into view at your feet. Why the cartographer is here, you remain unsure, but your exhaustion is softened by the sight of his young face. “The High King is nearby. You are safe. I will wake you once we arrive at our destination.”
Your windpipe feels as if it has been pressed upon and your mouth forced open to swallow handfuls of sand. Despite that discomfort, you swallow and ask, “Is he safe?”
Camnir nods. “Indeed. Be peaceful. We are nearly there.”
You fall asleep once again with Aeglos and Telmnar on your mind.
***
There is warmth the next time you wake.
You’re careful not to aggravate your wound as you slowly shift your weight and rub your hands over your eyes to adjust to the dim light of the tent. Night has fallen, as you can tell from the shadows outside, but you did not expect to find The High King fast asleep with his hand gently laying on top of yours.
You smile. Not many are privileged to see him like this. It reminds you of your younger years, when you and Ereinion were just getting to know one another during your time in the Grey Havens. The pair of you had been far more curious than Círdan had cared for. The Shipwright had never complained. He simply remained grateful that someone cared as much for his charge as you did.
Gil-Galad shifts as you slowly kick your legs off the cot and reach outward to card your fingers through his hair. “Ereinion,” You whisper. Dark eyes flutter open and widen as he realizes you are awake, and it takes all of his willpower not to ask you a million questions as you hold a hand up to silence him. “Are you okay?”
The crease between his brow deepens as you run your thumb along his jaw.
“I believe it should be me asking you that,” He replies quietly. “You gave me quite a scare. I do not think I have experienced fear such as that watching you fall since we were young.”
Your earnest expression crumples almost instantly. “Gil-Galad-“
“You told Elrond to tell me something,” Now fully awake, the High King of the Noldor shifts his seat so that he’s planted directly in front of you, hands hovering over your thighs as he settles into the natural part of your legs. “What was it?”
Your mind shifts back to the early days. The days before the wars had ruined you, had cost the lives of so many people you loved, when it was just you and Ereinion against the forces of darkness and those who tried to tear you down.
The perfect unit, they’d called you.
Ereinion holds his breath as your hand, shaking as it may be, extends towards him to cup his face. “Do you remember all those years ago when I told you that the likelihood of me taking a partner was slim because I was not willing to have a weakness that could distract me on the battlefield?” You ask. He nods, transfixed by your face as your fingers gently trace the line of his jaw. “I’ve had one for centuries now. I have just never breathed a word about it.”
Hope flickers behind those dark eyes. “Do not utter that which you do not wish to come to fruition, nin meld.”
“Why?”
You dip your head down, fingers tangling in dark hair as he tips his head up to hover mere inches above your mouth. Your heart pounds with anticipation as you both waver against the line that was drawn centuries ago: the line that will forever change the two of you once you dare to take that risk.
“Because once you do, you can’t take it back.” Gil-Galad utters so softly you almost don’t hear it.
“I could not take back my affections for you. I would not dare. You’ve had my heart since Círdan introduced us. You are my weakness… and you are my strength, my hope-“
His kiss is bruising as he closes the gap between the two of you, surging upward to stand to his feet and cup your face in his hands. He is so much taller than you that you have to crane your neck to properly kiss him, but you don’t think you could ever quite tire of the fire behind which he kisses you.
“You are my salvation from this wretched life,” Ereinion whispers, relishing in the sweet sound of your whimper as he holds you there, helpless to do nothing but allow his mouth to trail across your jaw and down your neck. He is mindful to not aggravate your injury further lest Elrond have his hide for doing so. “And so I take that weakness willingly if it means I have the privilege to love you all my days.”
You smile sweetly at him and nod as his trail ends at your forehead before you part.
“You’re tired.” You point to the cot beside you that’s open. “Bring that over here.”
“I have to attend to duties elsewhere-“
You give him a pointed look. “Cleaning Aeglos and Telmnar can wait. There’s so many of us injured, and you cannot attend to your duties without having a few hours of sleep. You cannot function.”
He hesitates before acquiescing to your demand. Galadriel is being tended to by Elrond, Arondir is coordinating patrols, and the rest of Eregion’s survivors are taken care of at least for the night. He will sleep much more peacefully - and hopefully avoid nightmares about Celebrimbor - being able to feel your breathing under his fingers.
“Very well.”
When Elrond comes looking for his King, he is not surprised to find him with you, but he is surprised to find that Gil-Galad has indeed fallen asleep in the cot beside yours. You are sitting up in your own cot drinking the mint tea provided by the healers with a smug expression on your face as you meet his eyes.
Your other hand loosely cards through Ereinions hair as he moves himself closer to your leg, forehead pressed against your knee in sleep.
“Should I ask?” Elrond queries, laughing quietly under his breath as you playfully narrow your eyes.
“Keep walking, Peredhel. Nothing to see here.”
He will allow his King that respite for tonight. He deserves the comfort of being held by someone he loves.
You guys asked for an Elrond piece, so here's another one! This one will go into the drabbles on my masterlist. I haven't had much inspiration for fics for him (that means if you do, drop that into my inbox PLEASE)
For all the things you have known him as over the years, you have never associated Elrond with darkness. He is the living embodiment of kindness incarnate, wrapped within the confines of an elven body that's also just a little bit too human for his own comfort. The light shines from the very heart of him. It is what makes him so alluring. So... beautiful.
Kind as summer, they say.
''What are we doing out here, my love?"
Where Elrond is kindness and light, you are gentleness and beauty personified. Gil-Galad has said for quite some time now that the two of you are the perfect complement for one another. You have endured the darkest of times, the deepest of grief, the heaviest of guilt and shame.
Yet here you are. Hand in hand, standing on the cliffs of Imladris above the wildflower fields as twilight peaks just over the trees on the other side of the river.
"I thought we could bask in the coming twilight together. Just us. Away from our responsibilities," Elrond teases. Your brow arches slightly to convey your disbelief as he grasps your hands and drags you down the hill toward the wildflowers. He has been so invested in rebuilding within the weeks following the Fall of Eregion that the two of you have scarcely seen each other, seeking the other out in the dead of night when sleep alludes you. "Just us. I miss us."
You smile and run your thumb along the back of his hand as the pair of you come to a stop. The twilight bleeds into the skies above you, casting red and purple shadows across the flowers as you take his hand into your own and lead the other to anchor against your waist.
Something lightens in him then: Something that he's been carrying for far too long that Elrond has been unwilling to let anyone else bear but him alone.
"We are eternal, Elrond. All that is us is eternal. The love we have shared across these years is eternal." You whisper. Your voice carries in the silence of the valley around you as you inch closer and press your toes into the dirt to be able to kiss him. Elrond tilts his head, lips parting of their own accord as he deepens your kiss and curls his tongue around your own. You don't know who is making those little, broken sounds of desperation and desire. It's probably both of you. You pull away first, grinning at him as he runs his thumbs across the apples of your cheeks.
"You believe me one that you could tolerate for all eternity, my dear?"
You would altercate and bleed at the very hands of the Valar themselves if it meant you would be granted the rest of your life to spend with Elrond Half-Elven.
"I would."
You hum softly as Elrond leans in, nuzzling your temple with his nose before he whispers in your ear, "Marry me then."
Gil-Galad stands vigil at the crest of the hill, idly twisting VIlya on his finger as he watches you leap into Elrond's arms, joyous laughter echoing across the fields as the pair of you stumble among the wildflowers.
"It was as I said, Celebrimbor," The High King murmurs quietly to himself. He can almost feel the presence of his dearest friend still lingering at his side if he focuses hard enough. "All we had to do was wait."
I cannot find ANY gifs of him in s2 and it's driving me nuts
anyway have some rapid fire drabbles (anything under 1K is a drabble for ME lol but I know they're supposed to be 500 or less sH) - @pentaghasm inspired this one
***
He's been staring at the sketches he's drawn of you for what feels longer than appropriate. You have barely left Celebrimbor's side since you arrived in Eregion mere weeks ago. He's shifted his whole life around you. Around your care, your presence in his Forge, the lack of memories, and your struggles in finding out who you are as a person.
He's not concerned about who you were or what you've done before meeting him. What Celebrimbor is concerned about is the deeply rooted affections that he knows he feels deep in his heart. They have only grown fonder in the time the two of you have spent together. The cups of tea shared by the fireplace with the whispered, shameful words of exchanging histories about the House of Fëanor that he is certain you will judge him for just as everyone else does, as he is the last living descendant.
He's memorized every individual interaction down to the detail, but there's just something about that one that sticks in his mind's eye.
"You are not them. Just because you share the same blood does not mean you will make the same mistakes."
Celebrimbor is certain then that he's grown too comfortable around you, around his desires for companionship and his desperate need to no longer feel so alone. You are willing to give him your time and undivided attention because you are interested in him as a person, as Celebrimbor, and not as the Lord and the Greatest of Elven Smiths.
This line of thinking has wholly consumed him. Amid tonight's storm, Celebrimbor has sheltered inside the quiet of his Forge while the rest of the smiths have returned to their homes to be with their families. You previously mentioned going and spending time in the libraries to try and jog your memories with what little images you had to work with before leaving him alone for the evening with promises to later return for tea.
His feet lead him out of the Forge and into the courtyard before Celebrimbor can properly process that it is raining. The path ends at the doors to the Library where he stops short and freezes once he realizes you've opened the door before he thought to knock upon it.
You're wearing his robes. The ones he'd given you your first night in the city. The red ones. They're his favorite.
"Celebrimbor," You muse softly as you drum your fingers against the doorway. "You're soaking wet. What-"
"You have consumed me," Your eyes widen as the words stumble past his lips, and he cannot help himself. "Thoughts of you have consumed me and will not seem to stop. You are the only Elf to cross into these gates that has embraced me as Celebrimbor, without looking for the Greatest of the Elven Smiths or the Lord of Eregion. I-"
You peer up at him now, wet hair clinging to your face as you step fully out of the shelter of the doorway and into the rain that falls upon you both. Your fingers idly reach for his own and squeeze when you recognize the sharp intake of breath at such a simple offer of touch.
"What do you want, Celebrimbor?" You ask softly.
"I want the pleasure of asking if it is okay to kiss you, my Lady. I have been wishing for it for quite a while now."
The color of your cheeks darkens as you nod, and he is upon you, in your space, trembling fingers slotting against the curve of your jaw before you surge upward to meet his mouth halfway. Something broken echoes in the back of his throat when you pull on his robes to tug him closer, curling your own fingers into the wet curls that press against his temples before Celebrimbor forces himself to pull away and allow you both to breathe.
You make a note to remember how often Celebrimbor reacts to even the simplest exchange of touches: A graze of your fingers across the backs of his hands, embracing him in a hug, simply even holding his face in your hands.
Celebrimbor has gone starved of affection for too long.
His kiss is deep and warm and full of longing, as every moment with him has been since you've arrived.
"That..." You whisper, hesitant to pull any further apart as your breath fans his face. His fingers are so warm where they rest against your cheeks. You realize then that you want him to touch you, to always touch you, to feel that warmth that shines from the depths of his soul in every part of you it can reach. "That was wonderful. You are wonderful."
Celebrimbor grins before he tugs on the cuffs of the too long sleeves that cling to your body with rain water.
"I appreciate your affinity for stealing my clothing."
"Stealing? You gave these to me, if memory serves right." You chide, laughing as he links his fingers with yours and leads you back in the direction of the Forge. Joy is a look that you need to see more often from him. "I think I wear this color quite well. Don't you agree?"
There's a confidence in his step as Celebrimbor sweeps you inside of the Tower with his arm wound around your waist, face inches from your own as you rest your hand on his chest.
Growing affections indeed.
"They look far better on you than they ever did on me, beloved," You grin and swoop in to place a kiss on his cheek, laughing as you skip up the stairs to dart into the Forge toward the fire so the two of you can dry in its warmth. "But I would appreciate them not being ruined by the rain. Let us have our tea and let the robes dry by the warmth of the Forge."
You frown.
"I don't have anything to wear right now, Celebrimbor-" You protest. He has the audacity to look smug. "Oh. Oh, you are evil-"
The Elven Smith holds up his newest prize, a stunning green and gold cloak he's had specifically commissioned for you. He flutters his lashes innocently.
I was listening to the Tortured Poets Department the other day and felt like this really fits with what I’ve written for him so far. I know I’m writing this plot out of order, but it will eventually all make sense. I am still training at work, and while that constitutes nothing for me, it means I have too much time on my hands.
This will fit into the 3 part fic called Where Are You? that will cover 2x06-2x08. I haven't rewatched 2x08 yet, but that's coming. I have so many ideas for you guys that I may just start rapid fire releasing the drabbles first.
next fic is for High King Gil-Galad
Secondly, this concept is turning into an OC fic. It will be on Ao3 by the end of this year!
Prompt: You ruminate on what little you remember in your purpose of being in Eregion while Celebrimbor sleeps at your side. The Valar may grant mercy on occasion, but you wonder if this ends in doom for you both.
***
Things are beginning to come back in pieces. You aren’t exactly sure why. There are flashes of gentle eyes and gray hair. Whispered words in Quenya as you perfect your natural healing ability. Your name, the real one given to you, but you don’t remember by who. Not yet.
You prefer the name given to you by Celebrimbor.
Said elf lays beneath your palm, breathing steady even as he sleeps. You had been the one to seek him out for comfort this time. It was a rare night of him succumbing to sleep early, and so you had sought him out in desperation, aching for the comfort of Celebrimbor’s embrace to shelter you from your memories.
You’d forgotten until you’d fallen into his bed how far away he was. It didn’t matter that you could feel his heartbeat, or touch his skin. He was worlds away from you.
And all because of Annatar.
Now you lay here, head pillowed against his chest, fingers tracing shapes against his abdomen, too distracted by your racing thoughts to sleep. Annatar’s constant demands and high expectations in the crafting of the Rings had put you both on edge. Celebrimbor had been elusive as well. So much of his time was spent locked away in The Forge, just out of reach.
He’d never deny you. Not even with the distance between you both.
No one but you could feel the dark magic in that room. The shadows that shrouded the elf you love, even now, so suffocating that it remains difficult to breathe.
“Please,” You whisper. No one may be listening. You have no idea. You would beg whatever entity did listen for this. “Please do not let this end in doom.”
With the trajectory of what was occurring, you had been trying to fight the impending sense of doom lingering in your heart for weeks. The nagging feeling in the back of your head that you are to be preparing for a funeral for you or Celebrimbor by the conclusion.
Or both of you.
You shiver at the thought and bury your face in Celebrimbor’s shoulder. His arm tightens around you instinctively, like the elf you’ve fallen in love with still resides deep within the recesses of the mind he’s been made prisoner in.
Please, I’ve been on my knees
Change the prophecy
“He’s so good,” You whisper. “Everything he does is from the goodness of his heart. A kind heart.” You hold your breath as your tears collide with Celebrimbor’s skin, causing him to shift beneath you and press his face into your hair with a quiet grumble. You don’t dare speak again until you’re sure he’s asleep. “All of Celebrimbor’s intentions have been pure. He wants to do right by his people and rectify the sins and shortcomings of the House of Fëanor. This should not end in ruin. Not his.”
Don’t want money, just someone who wants my company
Let it once be me
You wish you could pull him out. Use your magic to break through the darkness that has settled upon this city, settled upon him, and force your way through the walls Annatar has erected to keep him complacent. It is Celebrimbor’s own chains that keep him prisoner.
Chains built by pride and ambition.
No. If anything, Celebrimbor will have to awaken from the depths of this illusion when the stakes are too high and he has something to lose.
Who do I have to speak to
About if they can redo the prophecy??
You run your free hand to rest your fingertips against his temple, smiling against the curve of his cheek as Celebrimbor begins to stir beneath you. Heavy lidded eyes flutter open to meet your own. In those few moments of silence, you can see him.
“Why-“ Celebrimbor starts, cut off by a yawn as he buries his face in your neck and rolls to slot a leg between yours. The action has you blushing as you raise your hand to tangle your fingers in his hair. The action usually puts him right back to sleep. “It isn’t even dawn yet, love. Why are you awake?”
You contemplate an answer for several seconds. Part of you wants to tell him, to confide in him about that underlying fear of ruin, but you don’t. You don’t know what he’ll say if you directly mention Annatar.
You don’t even know if you could trust in him not repeating what you’ve said to Annatar.
So you instead allow him to place a lingering kiss at the corner of your jaw, humming softly as his fingers soothe your body's aches by massaging at your hip.
You’re so tired.
“Too much to ruminate on. My mind will not let me rest.” You reply. Celebrimbor frowns, the furrow in his brow deepening as concern flashes behind his eyes. “I will be fine. You sleep, my love. I will be here when you wake.”
Celebrimbor does not complain. He can't. Too many times have you been the one to hold him, to shelter him from the storm of his own mind as he wakes briefly enough to seek you out. Too many times have you been the one to leave food at his table, to bring him tea, to offer him your company when his solitude becomes too great to bear.
Too many times have you fallen back asleep while Celebrimbor wept in the silence.
You hear Celebrimbor whisper his, "I love you." before settling again, this time with his hand pressed against your stomach and his hair tickling your nose. The sheer vulnerability of being so willing to sleep in a position like this when you've been apart for weeks has tears burning the back of your eyes.
Who do I have to speak to
To change the prophecy?
You hold him there on the precipice of sleep and allow, for just this moment, your fear to breach the surface.
"Please," You whisper. "Please, just this once, grant us mercy."
***
And far above the reaches of Middle Earth, she heard you.
The Lady of Mercy and Grief did not ignore the suffering of those who dared to reach for her.
As promised, a fluffy Elrond fic. It’s a little shorter then my usual oneshots. I will fix the formatting on this when I get home. I don’t usually write from my phone but it is all I have today.
“You are simply thinking about this too hard, my dear friend,” Galadriel’s voice breaks the force of Elrond’s concentration as he kneels in front of his third bed of flowers among Lindon’s gardens. “You are as aware as I that anything you make will be dearly loved because it came from your hands.”
Galadriel had followed Elrond into the gardens after their meeting with the High King earlier that morning. Gil-Galad had informed them, his court, and his musicians of the gala taking place the next night to unite the different groups of Elves under a common banner.
And it was also to take away from the impending threat of war.
Elrond shakes his head and runs his fingers across the petals of a lily. “No,” He murmurs. “No. It has to be perfect. Even for something as simple as this. They are the focus of the music this evening.”
“So you wish for all eyes to be drawn to your beloved?”
“Well, when you put it that way-“
His eyes fall upon a hidden bed of flowers deeper in the garden that had been overlooked during his initial surveillance of the gardens as a whole.
The flowers he pulled were a perfect mix of red, orange, pink and yellow, identical to the outfit you would be wearing for the gala this evening.
Galadriel smiles as he turns to her with a fist full of flowers pressed carefully against his chest. She has her own in her hands, her own flowers she’s pulled as they remind her of Elrond’s eyes.
If you’re going to be wearing a crown, so is he.
Pacing was not helping.
You had not been acutely aware of the gala until earlier that morning when Gil-Galad had informed his court and his musicians of the intent behind holding this in Lindon. What you’d been less aware of was your own role as the head musician, which was an honor to be bestowed among the best but also would mean that all eyes and attention would be on you.
It should not have been as anxiety inducing as it felt. The pit in your stomach had only grown heavier since you’d returned to your chambers, and Elrond had been nowhere to be seen since the meeting this morning held in front of the Great Tree.
You were in over your head.
“Dear friend.. you two are perfect for each other.” You whip around and sigh in relief at the sight of Galadriel, who is lingering just inside the doorway to your chambers. “You both are chronic overthinkers. What troubles you?”
Galadriel had become a good friend since Elrond had introduced you to her. You found yourself confiding in her more times often then not, as she was older and wiser then yourself as well as having a much more extensive relationship and history with Elrond. You value her input, and you value her judgement.
“I worry about the gala. I-“ You swallow the knot in your throat and wring your hands harder, ignoring the ache in your fingers as you do so. “I do not care to be the center of attention. I much more prefer being in the background. There’s less chance of a mistake that way.”
“My friend,” Galadriel begins as she catches your hands to hold them in her own. You hadn’t realized how much you needed the stability of another persons touch - a role Elrond often fell into - until you felt the tension seep from your shoulders. “You are a treasure. Even though you are not directly involved in the war effort against Sauron, your influence holds great weight. That is crucial to morale for soldiers and artisans and crafters alike. Your influence also holds great weight with Elrond. He adores you. Any mistake you may make does not matter in the grand scheme of things. You plant yourself on that stage and remember who you play for.”
Remember who you play for.
Elrond had been one of the only people to nurture and encourage your passions aside from your few actions with Celebrimbor. Any time you played, it was for him.
“Remember who you play for,” You repeat. “Thank you. Would you be willing to help me prepare for this gala? It will do wonders for my nerves.”
Galadriel was a soldier, a commander, and a fierce fighter. It was not often she was able to embrace her femininity. It was not often she found herself having a friend who she could simply be herself with.
Not until you.
She smiles. Her smile, when it’s genuine, could rival the brightness of the stars themselves. You often wonder if the embodiment of Light of the Valar lives within her.
“I would be honored. However, before I do that,” She begins, reaching behind her to produce an intricately woven crown of flowers she’s somehow kept concealed since entering. Your eyes widen as you lean forward, curious, and run your fingers across the flowers. “This is for you.”
Elrond.
***
“Be at peace, my friend. Have a drink. This is not meant to be a punishment.”
Elrond has been searching the crowd gathered at Lindon’s gala for what feels like years, dark eyes desperate to seek you out as you join the other musicians on stage. Galadriel’s instructions had been specific: be in sight, and wear the crown.
He looked ridiculous. She had been the one to weave it, and intricate circular design of dark navy petals that went around the entirety of his head. Galadriel had claimed it would compliment his hair and eyes well.
Like she’d know.
“I apologize, High King-“ Elrond interjects. “I have not seen my beloved all day, and it was at the behest of Galadriel that I wore this ridiculous garb. I-“
His breath catches in his throat as you come into view and address the crowd with a smile that makes his knees weak. Galadriel had told him before disappearing into the crowd that she’d assisted in getting you ready for this gala, and it shows. Elrond is transfixed by you.
Gil-Galad smiles around the rim of his glass. “It seems that the Commander of the Northern Armies wanted to put you both at ease,” He muses lightly. “By showing others in attendance that you belong to each other.”
Across the gap, your eyes find Elrond’s and brighten as you recognize the crown of flowers sat neatly atop his curls. The crown he’d woven for you earlier that morning in the Garden sits proudly atop your own head. You are the picture of beauty as you regard the crowd with a breathtaking smile and lift your violin to press your chin against the instrument.
And then off you go, lost in the music as your bow eases back and forth across the strings. Elrond is transfixed by how easy it comes to you.
Remember who you play for.
Your eyes follow him for the rest of the gala. You and the harpist are awarded what feels like hours upon hours of applause, and it is only when you are about to begin your next song that the harpist - a younger elleth named Löriel - stands to address the crowd.
“If you’ll give our dearest violinist another round of applause, I feel as if they deserve a break,” She announces as applause echoes before The Great Tree. You seek Elrond out in the crowd again, smirking as you find him sulking in the darkness of the night just outside of the firelight that illuminates the gala. “I will be leading this next song so as to give our violinist the opportunity to dance. Please, grab your loved one. This will surely be one you want to partake in.”
Celebrimbor clears his throat from where he stands beside Elrond, who is continuing to look particularly sullen where he idly sips at his wine. He’s never quite adjusted to being the Herald of the King and desiring to attend gatherings such as these. “My dear friend,” Celebrimbor murmurs lowly. “I believe someone is coming this way.”
You grin and bow lowly as Elronds head snaps upward. “Lord Celebrimbor,” You greet. Elrond is too fixated on your outfit - perfect representation through color and fabric of the gardens, which seems to be your favorite place in Lindon - to recognize your greeting. “Herald. My eyes are up here.”
Dark eyes flicker up to meet your own.
“Meleth nin,” Elrond breathes, a soft and airy sound that sounds distinctly like awe. “You are a sight to behold. I quite enjoy the crown. It complements the outfit.”
You peer down at your outfit. “Well, I did pick it as a reminder to who I play for,” You tease softly as you extend your hand toward Elrond. “Come dance with me.”
Elrond’s split second hesitation causes Celebrimbor to nudge him hard enough in the back that he practically stumbles into your embrace. For someone who’s supposed to be the Herald of the King, the Half-Elven cares little for politics.
Your fingers lace with his own as you disappear into the crowd.
***
“Why are you smiling at me?”
Your question breaks through Elrond’s focus as his eyes shift down to your own, tightening his grip on your waist as you lazily play with his curls.
Elrond leans inward and presses his hand to the flat of your back, pulling you in until you can feel his hips pressed against your own and the warmth of his breath at your ear. “Because you’re mine,” He whispers lowly in your ear. “And all of those around us now know so.”
“Didn’t the crowns give it away?” You inquire.
You move your head as he tilts his own upward, catching his mouth in a kiss that makes your knees weak as you catch the moan lingering at the back of his throat. It’s good that it’s loud enough with the other elves and the music to hide the sound.
Both your cheeks are red when Elrond pulls away. You run your fingers gingerly along the petals of his crown, savoring the way he seeks out the warmth of your hand and pulls it downward to place a kiss upon your wrist.
“You were phenomenal tonight.” He says softly. “A true crafter of the arts. I consider myself privileged to be yours.”
“You’ve discovered my secret, Elrond Peredhel.”
He raises a brow in surprise. “Oh?”
Feeling daring, you stand on your tiptoes as the swell of the music echoes around you both and kiss him hard, grinning at the startled sound of surprises that goes unheard beneath the cellist and the harpist who have taken your spot. When you pull away, both of you are breathless, and you lean up to murmur lowly in his ear.
“When I play? I play for you.”
You laugh as he weaves through the crowd, hand in yours, ready to continue that kiss far from prying eyes. His cheeks are as red as the flowers in your hair.
***
Gil-Galad is not one who considers himself easily entertained, but it has been quite interesting watching his Herald court his Cellist.
Celebrimbor seems to have the same thought.
“How much time do you give them before they’re coming to you to ask for an officiant of a wedding ceremony?” Celebrimbor teases, smirking around the rim of his glass as they watch you and Elrond disappear in the direction of Lindon’s palace. “I give them a month.”
Gil-Galad smiles. “I give them less.”
Celebrimbor turns and extends a hand. “Should we shake on it?”
