Request: [Mixed Selection] May I request headcanons for a flirty human reader with Celegorm, Finrod, Glorfindel, Maedhros and Elrond? Reader is flirting with them but she actually has no romantic interest in them. Genre and being sfw/nsfw don't matter for me - dealer's choice. Thank you in advance!!
A/N: I went with the SFW route that was slightly suggestive, it felt more befitting given the ‘non-romantic interest’ and I was in the mood for a good laugh. This was just a lovely request, anon. Thank you for the request!
Synopsis: When you decide to flirt with them despite being romantically uninterested in them, all for the sake of fun.
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Maedhros
𑁍 You had no idea how you ended up befriending Maedhros, but once you did, you realised something very important: the Eldar were woefully unprepared for human audacity, and Maedhros, in particular, had absolutely no idea what to do with you.
𑁍 “You should smile more,” you told him once, watching as he adjusted his vambrace with that usual, distant intensity. “I bet it’d make all the ladies swoon.”
𑁍 He blinked at you, unimpressed. “I am a Prince of the Noldor. My concerns are not—”
𑁍 “Oh, so you already have them swooning? I should’ve known.” You smirked, tapping a finger against your chin in mock contemplation. “Is it the brooding thing? Or the battle scars? Or maybe it’s the hair—tell me, Maedhros, how many maidens have tried to braid flowers into it?”
𑁍 The strangled noise he made was priceless. It became a game after that. You, being utterly shameless, and Maedhros, being utterly unprepared for someone who flirted without actually meaning it.
𑁍 “Would you catch me if I fell?” you asked once, lounging across a bench like some ancient philosopher contemplating the meaning of life. And Maedhros, ever pragmatic, glanced at you and said, “You are sitting down.”
𑁍 “Hypothetically.”
𑁍 “...I suppose, yes.”
𑁍 “Would you cradle me in your arms and whisper soft reassurances?”
𑁍 “No.”
𑁍 “What if I cried a little?”
𑁍 He closed his eyes, exhaling through his nose like he was summoning every ounce of patience left in his soul. You were his worst nightmare.
𑁍 Once, after a particularly ridiculous exchange, Maglor (who found you endlessly entertaining) finally asked, “Are you actually trying to court my brother?”
𑁍 “Oh, absolutely not,” you replied without hesitation. “I just like to see if I can make him malfunction.” The absolute horror on Maedhros’ face was a thing of beauty.
𑁍 “You are malfunctioning,” Maglor pointed out.
𑁍 “I am not—”
𑁍 “Name one time you’ve reacted normally to them.”
𑁍 Maedhros opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. Then just glared at you. “This is entirely your fault.”
𑁍 You gave him a dazzling smile and fluttered your lashes. “And yet, you keep me around. Hmm. Almost like you enjoy my presence.”
𑁍 “I do not,” he lied blatantly.
𑁍 Eventually, Maedhros stopped protesting, but the sighs of long-suffering continued. You were convinced that, despite his protests, he secretly enjoyed your antics. After all, he never once told you to stop.
Celegorm
𑁍 Celegorm first mistook you for a genuine suitor, which was honestly on him. You had flirted outrageously, batting your lashes and trailing your fingers along his arm while calling him ‘my mighty hunter.’ He had puffed up like a peacock, utterly convinced that you had fallen for his rugged charm.
𑁍 “I understand,” he had said gravely one evening, after you had draped yourself over the back of his chair and whispered something about strong hands and archery skill. “It is difficult to resist me.”
𑁍 You nearly choked on your wine. “Oh, you sweet summer child,” you laughed, patting his shoulder. “I just like watching you squirm.”
𑁍 Celegorm sat there, utterly frozen, like a man who had just been hit by a metaphorical wagon. He stared at you, at the sheer audacity, before narrowing his eyes. “You’re playing a dangerous game, human.”
𑁍 “Oh, but you’re so fun to mess with,” you grinned, winking.
𑁍 After that, Celegorm dedicated himself to turning the tables. He flirted back with wild intensity, cornering you in halls with smirks and murmured threats of “revenge.” It became a game, a constant back-and-forth of smouldering looks and ridiculous one-liners. The moment you actually backed off, he huffed in disappointment. “What, giving up already?”
𑁍 “Of course not,” you grinned, sauntering past. “I just like keeping you on edge.”
𑁍 One day, he finally called your bluff, leaning down so close his breath brushed your ear. “You talk big, but I don’t think you could handle me.”
𑁍 You burst into laughter so hard you had to clutch your ribs. “Oh, Tyelko, if I wanted to handle you, I’d have done it already.”
𑁍 He stared. You sauntered away, leaving the great hunter standing there, looking more hunted than ever.
Finrod
𑁍 Finrod had your number from the start. The very first time you tried to lean into him and sigh about how ‘utterly entrancing’ his eyes were, he simply raised a golden brow and smirked. “Oh, is that so?”
𑁍 You pouted. “Must you ruin my fun?”
𑁍 “I would never, but I am curious—do you say this to all elves, or am I special?” he purred, clearly amused.
𑁍 “Oh, you’re special, all right,” you grinned, tapping his chest. “Most elves just blush and stammer. You, however, are proving to be a challenge.”
𑁍 Finrod delighted in the game. He indulged you with little flourishes—offering his hand with an elegant bow, leaning in when you whispered something ridiculous, murmuring things in Quenya just to watch you shiver dramatically and sigh, “Oh, if only I knew what that meant!”
𑁍 “It means, ‘You’re absolutely shameless, and I adore it.’”
𑁍 You gasped, pressing a hand to your heart. “Finrod! And here I thought you were an honourable prince.”
𑁍 “Ah, but honour and amusement are not mutually exclusive,” he grinned.
𑁍 He was insufferable. Worse, he was better at this than you were. One night at a feast, he casually kissed the back of your hand and murmured, “My dear, if you keep looking at me like that, I may start to believe you.”
𑁍 “Oh, don’t do that,” you laughed, squeezing his hand. “I’d hate to break your heart.”
𑁍 “You overestimate your power, my dear,” he chuckled, though his eyes shone with a twinkle.
𑁍 “Oh, do I?” you purred, trailing a finger up his arm. “You wouldn’t be the first elf I’ve made weak in the knees.”
𑁍 “And yet, I am still standing,” he mused. “A mystery indeed.”
𑁍 “Well,” you smirked, “there’s still time.”
Glorfindel
𑁍 Glorfindel was used to admiration. Being a golden-haired, heroic Balrog-slayer tended to make one rather popular. He was not, however, used to your particular brand of shameless flirting.
𑁍 The first time you called him ‘the most devastatingly handsome warrior this side of the sea,’ he nearly choked on his drink. “I beg your pardon?”
𑁍 “Oh, don’t be shy,” you teased, elbowing him. “You know you’re devastatingly handsome. I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking.”
𑁍 He recovered quickly. Too quickly. “Oh? And are you thinking about me often, then?”
𑁍 You grinned. “Only in my most sinful dreams.”
𑁍 Glorfindel coughed. You watched, delighted, as a flush rose high on his cheeks. “You are scandalous,” he muttered, shaking his head.
𑁍 “And you like it,” you sing-songed, linking your arm through his.
𑁍 From that moment on, he was both wary and intrigued. You kept him on his toes, throwing winks and suggestive remarks his way whenever the opportunity arose. One time, after he returned from a sparring match, you fanned yourself dramatically. “By the stars, is it hot in here, or is it just you?”
𑁍 He stared at you, sweat still glistening on his brow. “Do you ever stop?”
𑁍 “Why would I?” you asked, propping your chin on your hand. “You’re such an easy target.”
𑁍 “I am not an easy target,” he huffed, crossing his arms.
𑁍 “Oh, Glorfindel,” you sighed, shaking your head. “You poor, oblivious thing.”
𑁍 One day, he turned the tables on you, cornering you in a hallway and leaning in just close enough that you could feel his breath on your skin. “Tell me, my sweet tormentor,” he murmured, “what would you do if I took your teasing seriously?”
𑁍 You blinked up at him, your brain stalling for a moment before you grinned and placed a finger on his chest. “I’d be very flattered,” you said, trailing your hand down his tunic before giving him a light shove. “But I’d still be messing with you.”
𑁍 Glorfindel groaned, his face forming a grimace. “You are intolerable.”
𑁍 “And yet, you keep coming back,” you sing-songed, winking as you strolled away.
𑁍 He watched you go, muttering something about humans and their wicked ways. But later, when you caught him smiling to himself, you knew he secretly loved every second of it.
Elrond
𑁍 “Lord Elrond,” you greeted with a smile that was all teeth. “I just want to say that you have the most magnificent bone structure I have ever seen. Have you ever considered the impact of your jawline on the mortal population?”
𑁍 Elrond, to his credit, barely reacted. “No, I have not.”
𑁍 “Tragic. I fear you underestimate its power.” He did not dignify that with a response.
𑁍 It became a sport after that. You flirted. He ignored you. You got more ridiculous. He remained completely, frustratingly composed.
𑁍 “Do you ever get tired of being the most attractive person in the room?” you asked one day, chin in hand, watching him review some diplomatic scrolls.
𑁍 “No,” he replied absently, eyes still scanning the parchment. “It is a burden I have learned to bear.”
𑁍 You choked on your drink. “Oh—so you do have a sense of humour!”
𑁍 His lips twitched, and you swore, just for a second, you saw a glimmer of amusement in those grey eyes.
𑁍 He got his revenge once. You had leaned in far too close, examining his ever-stoic features like some fine work of art, when he turned his head abruptly and murmured, “You are staring, my friend. Do you wish to kiss me?”
𑁍 You jerked back so fast you nearly fell out of your chair. “No!”
𑁍 “Ah,” he said, entirely unbothered, turning back to his scrolls. “How unexpected.”
𑁍 Sometimes, the elves who served him gave you looks of sheer disbelief. You were speaking to Elrond Peredhel, leaning casually against his desk and saying things like, “What if I wrote you a love poem?”
𑁍 “Please do not.”
𑁍 “Too late, I’ve already started. ‘O Elrond, fairest of the fair, with hair like—’ ”
𑁍 “No.” You could almost see him regretting ever acknowledging your presence.
𑁍 Glorfindel, who had been watching the entire ordeal with great amusement, leaned over and whispered, “I have never seen him so consistently harassed before. You are a marvel.”
𑁍 “Thank you,” you said, preening.
𑁍 And yet, despite all his sighs and why must you do this looks, Elrond never once dismissed you. If anything, you sometimes caught him glancing at you with that small, knowing smile of his, like he found you far more entertaining than he’d ever admit.
A/N: Requested by @stormchaser819 ! I hope you enjoy <3 I love Glorfindel so much, I hope I did him justice. Please let me know what you think! If anyone wants to be on my elf tag-list let me know, and mention which character you'd like to be tagged for if you want to be tagged for anyone in particular
Contents: Glorfindel x Elf!Reader, GN reader, fluff. Elvish translations at the bottom
Words: 1448 I Ko-Fi
Sunsets in Gondolin have always been a sight worthy of gazing upon. They never lost their beauty nor their charm and served well in comforting the hearts of many after all the dark news that reached them, be it by word or by letter. It almost caught you unawares now as the same sunset painted the marbled floor in glittering spots of gold and orange around you. 'Has it been so long already?'
Glorfindel sat quietly for once, observing you through tender eyes as you wrapped his injured arm in new dressings, the last of his wounds. Although he had no lack of love in Gondolin, nor the lack of people worried for him, his heart squeezed at the sight of your face when it wrinkled with worry, the tight frown on your lips and the way your teeth marked your lips. His intentions were to shield you, comfort you, but he knew he wouldn’t be doing any of it by sending you away or offering you empty words in hopes to sweep the topic of wounds away.
“You’re healing quickly..” your words snapped him out of his internal musings, and he blinked once, twice as if your face was only now coming into his vision, cleared away of fog and distance. His lips pull upward at the corners slightly, searching your eyes for something.
“And that is much relief, but also to be expected when I have you tending to all that wishes to ail me” His words were a warm timbre, as gentle as the hearth fire in dusky winter nights. “I have much to thank you for,” he added as he watched you tuck away the excess wrapping, securing it tightly before patting the palm of your hand around the side of his forearm, the motion gentle.
“The healers have done their due as well, I am not a great healer, but I know how to dress a wound” you told him as you looked up at him after finishing your task, exhaling softly through your nose. Elven blood was enduring, persevering, yet not even that was able to make you feel any less tired, or look the part. For too long did Glorfindel linger outside of your eyes and out of your reach, fighting battles and doing deeds worthy of the praise he got, and more. For too long he left you without a word. All of which you understood, yet it did little to comfort you of his safety. Had you any skill with a sword as he did, perhaps you would have taken a place by his side in the battles. But your weapon was a quill, rather than a blade.
“The healers have gotten their due praise and my gratitude, but you ought not to discredit yourself simply because you do not bear the title of theirs” Glorfindel said, his tone laced with subtle interwoven notes of concern. His head absentmindedly titled to one side, hoping to catch your suddenly fallen gaze.
Your eyes flickered to his own for a heartbeat before you busied yourself with sorting away the excess wound dressing, ointments and herbs and tools and all else you brought in your healer’s bag. For a healing wound of his, this was much unnecessary. “I am not discrediting myself” you replied, your voice dropping lower despite your efforts to keep sturdy. Secrets were a distant thing between you and Glorfindel, almost as if there was an external force stripping you both bare, feeling so natural yet, at times like these, embarrassing.
“I only worry you’ll allow the reputation everyone pins on you to get the better of your wits one day” It was a harmless bite, a proof of your worry you knew not how to express in any other way.
Glorfindel huffed out a laugh, breathing in a good mouthful as his lips quirked upwards as if greatly amused by your words. He sighed as he shook his head slowly, his gaze leaving you for a moment as he took in the sight of the great bedchamber around him. The gold lances of the sun shone through still, slowly transitioning from gold to pale purples and pinks. “Surely, you do not worry yourself to exhaustion because of this?” he looked back to you, “Must I remind you that I am not as reckless as you may think?” he offers gently.
Your eyes met his gaze, noticing the hint of mischief but also.. worry. He may not show it, but you could see it, feel it when his fingers brushed your hand in a silent quest of comfort for both of your hearts.
“No.. I.. I am fully aware of your skill, Glorfindel” you made yourself chuckle, lips pulling upward in a smile to ease yourself into the sentence. “I just.. hate to see you hurt, surely you understand that I am not exactly myself when I see you like this?” you take his good hand in yours and give a squeeze which he gladly returned. “It pains me to see you off wherever you go to battle, any battle, and to be sure sometimes my heart makes a beast out of a fly, but I.. I just worry for you, melda”
“I know… as do I for you..” he smiles at you again, and his hand slips the clasp of yours to find its way up. His fingers touched the line of your jaw tenderly at first, feather light, before his palm slipped onto your cheek to hold it. Seeing you lean into it made Glorfindel sit up and draw closer to you. His lips found yours in a lingering kiss. He was warm, warm as always, warm as fire and he held yours like nothing else mattered in the world but this very moment.
After he had pulled back he made slow, sweet motions that brushed the tip of his nose against yours and then pressed your foreheads together. “Elin nin.. you can have my word that I would never cast aside all the wisdom I have just so another song may be sung about me, not when I know you’d eat yourself from within if I were to do something so stupid” His tone had dropped to a whisper, shared strictly within this small bubble the two of you created.
“Recklessness does not suit me, as you always love to remind me, and I do not care to try it out again any time soon” he chuckled, sparking a small chain reaction that ended with you chuckling along with him. Your hand found its way over his, holding him glued to you.
“You said I look like a fool when I am too hasty” he continued, fueling the moment for what it was, so it may melt away the tension.
“Foolish behaviour is not fit for a lord of the house of the Golden Flower” you told him, shuffling closer to him.
Glorfindel nodded, “Precisely. And I’d be an even bigger fool not to listen to you, Meleth nîn. There’d be many songs sung about Glorfindel the Fool by now.. Hah, I can almost imagine the verses. ‘Glorfindel charged with a mighty shout, but tripped on a rock and his long cape right out’!”
It was hard to resist laughter, and it all bubbled up to your mouth and shook your shoulders as Glorfindel came up with verses on the spot.
“ ‘His sword slipped from his hand, stuck in a tree so high, he wondered whether he might just wish it goodbye’ “
He did not stop until you slapped him on the shoulder, cheeks dusted with pink from laughter. “Oh, stop! You got your point across, no need to make me suffer any more with these verses of yours” you complained as you doubled over, the top of your head pressing into his shoulder as to hide away the mirth in your face.
“Ecthellion knows how to write and sing better than I, but I am not so bad myself at weaving a rhyme or two” he replied, letting you lean into him while one arm went around you, his good arm pressing you further into him. His chest was shaking with humble chuckles. “Melin ceni hin lîn síla i ‘eladhach! Don’t hide from me” He told you after swallowing a breath and you took courage to face the golden haired lord with all your flushed-face might.
“There you are” he added and cupped the back of your nape with his hand. “Has my recklessness frightened you?”
“No, but it might annoy me if you mention it any more” you straightened up and kissed his cheek, reveling in the way he glowed when he smiled.
melda - beloved
Elin nin - my star
Meleth nîn - my love
Melin ceni hin lîn síla i ‘eladhach -I love to see your eyes shine when you laugh
Ⓒ n0tamused/jarttavia_. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.
▹ Summary: It's kind of cute, dancing in the rain with Glorfindel.
▹ Notes: I think I got a tooth ache writing this
The sky was overcast from the moment you’d woken up.
The air was crisp, sharp, and chilling to the bone. Wind whistled through the trees, boughs twisting and bending. Dark clouds hung in the sky and threatened rain, but it never came. You wished it had. It would’ve made for a romantic scene, dancing through the rain with a partner that only you could see. Your dress would be drenched and cling to your skin, hair wet with droplets of water falling from the tips. Your cheeks would’ve been flushed from the cold, eyes glittering amongst the rain. It was all just a fantasy, however, as the rain refused to pour.
You walked across Imladris, looking up at the sky, longingly. A chill ran through the gardens, eliciting shivers across your body. You pulled the cloak you wore closer to stave away the cold, but it didn’t help much.
“Y/N,” a voice called your name. You turned and were met with bright blue eyes, Glorfindel standing a few feet behind you. He was as radiant as usual, his golden hair pulled into the simple braid he often wore during training. It was loose, allowing stray pieces of hair to frame his face. His expression was serene, as it almost always was. He walked towards you, your heart rate getting faster with every step.
“Glorfindel,” you responded, an easy grin on your lips. You hoped it would mask the nerves rippling in your stomach. Anticipation made your body nearly vibrate, eager for any interaction with Glorfindel. No matter how large or small, it would be enough to keep you swooning the entire day.
“What are you doing?” The distance that separated the two of you was gone. He felt like a furnace compared to your freezing body. It was your excuse for standing so close, even though you knew your cheeks weren’t flushed from the cold.
“Taking a stroll, I needed some air,” you said.
“In this cold weather?” Amusement gave his voice an airy lilt and the sound made your heart beat faster.
“I like the cold?” It was more of a question than an answer and you cursed your timid temperament. Glorfindel laughed, the noise more melodic than it had a right being. Butterflies erupted in your stomach and a small, shy smile pulled on your lips. You’d do anything to hear that noise again. Even if you had to make the biggest fool of yourself to keep his eyes on you.
“Then perhaps you would allow me to walk with you if only to ensure the lady does not get sick with frostbite.” He presents his arm, and you link your arm with his. The two of you begin to walk forward.
You’re petrified, intensely focusing on keeping your legs steady so you don’t stumble like an idiot. Stars filled your vision the longer you and Glorfindel walked together. He began to speak with you, his voice so quiet only you could hear the words. It was silly observations; things he noticed as you walked. It had little purpose, other than to coax small bouts of laughter from you.
A drop of water landed on your head. You looked up at the sky, the clouds had grown darker. Small droplets fell from the sky, the downpour coming down harder now. Glorfindel looked up at the sky as well, a slight frown on the edge of his mouth.
“Should we head inside?” he asked.
Your eyes moved from the sky then back to him. The shy grin on your face was larger, eyes beaming with excitement. You’d waited all day for this moment to happen. If fate was on your side, your dance partner wouldn’t be a figment of your imagination. It would be the person you dreamed about most.
“I’d like to stay, I enjoy the rain,” you said.
Glorfindel nodded, eyes locked with yours and a soft smile on his lips. “Then we’ll stay.”
The two of you continued to walk through the gardens of Imladris, unphased by the cold rain. Your shoes were full of water and everything clung to your body awkwardly. Down to the bone, you were freezing, but Glorfindel’s smile kept you warm. The rain came down harder, aggressive enough that it might be the start of a storm. It would be smart to move to the shelter of Imladris. But you didn’t want the moment to end. Without thinking about it for too long, afraid you’d chicken out last minute, you grabbed Glorfindel’s hand.
You pulled him forward to stand in the center of the garden, and he followed. Your smaller hands held his shoulders while he wrapped his arms around your waist. In near perfect sync, the two of you gently moved to the music the rain made. You began to hum, a tune you’d heard one of the minstrels sing a few nights ago. The floor was muddy, squishing under your feet. How lovely it was to be rained on with him.
He lifted his arm, coaxing you to spin and you did. Your wet hair flew around your face, sprinkling Glorfindel with water. Your eyes locked again, unabashedly staring at each other. Your eyes shone as if he was the rising sun after a long night. Time was moving too fast, it needed to slow down so you could savor this moment and memorize every detail. You weren’t sure you’d have the courage to replicate it.
The dance shifted, no longer a slow sway but a lively waltz and his hands intertwined with yours. You fumbled as Glorfindel glided across the grassy terrain, the steps ingrained in his head. The dance was unfamiliar, though you’ve seen him dance it a million times in The Hall of Fire. He laughed, light, merry, and full of life. His eyes shone like stars and his smile rivaled the sun. You wanted to call him beautiful, but it didn’t feel sufficient. No word in any language accurately described Glorfindel. You would have to settle with ethereal, even if it felt lacking.
He consumed all your thoughts. The way he made your heart race and head get dizzy. How much you loved to hear him laugh, the glossy look in his eyes when he drank too much wine. He was full of life, so happy all the time, despite the horrors he witnessed. You wanted him to know that you admired his tenacity and bravery. You loved him, not just for his beauty or charm, but his selflessness, his honor, but you did adore the little line on his forehead when he was deep in thought. He made you feel alive just by being in the same room. You wanted to tell him all of that. It was on the tip of your tongue, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment.
How silly to imagine he might ever feel the same.
The moment was coming to a close, you could feel it. Glorfindel spun you, once twice, and then a final time. He pulled back, hands unwinding themselves from yours. His eyes stayed on yours, and you thought you saw a sheen of affection in the dim light. But he turned away before you could think about it too long. His arm held out once more, you wrapped yours with it as he led you back to the building. His fingers traced shapes on your arm, the motion soothing your nerves.
For the second time, you considered telling Glorfindel everything on your mind. And for the second time, you decided not to. How lovely it was to sit on the edge of comfort and chaos as a war waged in your mind. Quicker than you’d like, the two of you were twisting through the halls of Imladris, towards your room. It was empty, not a soul encountered. Neither of you spoke, but it wasn’t awkward. It was as calm as a gentle summer wind. All too soon you reached the door to your room.
Your hands paused on the door knob and you turned to find Glorfindel already looking at you. There was hardly any space between the two of you, your noses brushing. The ability to breathe was taken from you as your eyes flickered to his lips before returning to his eyes. There was something in them you couldn’t read, but you desperately wanted to. To pull apart his brain and learn him entirely was all you wanted.
He took a step back, the moment over.
He did a sweeping bow and you returned it with a sloppy curtsey, face burning with embarrassment. Your rapid heart was beginning to steady yet the butterflies continued to erupt.
“Until we meet again my lady.” Glorfindel turned, disappearing down the hall. You watched him go, and only after his form disappeared did you open the door to your room. You stepped in and shut the door behind you. Your legs turned to liquid and you leaned against the door for stability. Slowly, you slid down the wood, a dreamy expression on your face. You were dazed, eyes seeing a million stars in the darkness of your room.
In the silence of the room, your confession slipped from your mouth.
“I think I love you.”
The confession was only heard by the walls and furniture. The words embedded themselves into your books of exhilarating romances. In the sanctity of the space you allowed yourself a small thread of hope that one day, you would be the lead in a romance such as those.
A soft sigh left your mouth just as someone knocked on your door. The sudden noise made you jump as you scrambled to get off the floor. You took a few deep breaths to collect yourself before opening it.
Glorfindel stood on the other side, his expression different, almost breathless. Reflecting in the dim light, you see one of your earrings in his hand. You reached up to both ears, feeling empty space on the left. The earring must have fallen at some point. How lucky Glorfindel had found it.
“Is it true?” he asked, voice no louder than the tap of the rain on your windows.
“What?” you asked. But a lump began to form in your throat, perhaps your confession hadn’t been as private as anticipated.
“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but when I came to return your earring that had fallen I couldn’t help but hear what you said. Do you truly love me?”
It was like smoke had poured into your lungs, taking away your ability to speak. You were frozen.
“Because if so, that is most pleasing. I find myself falling in love with you more every day, My Lady.” The confession fell from his lips like honey. You stood there, starstruck, unsure that you’d heard him correctly. But the grin on his face was too sweet and his eyes were too full of adoration for him to have said anything else.
“It’s true. I do love you,” you spoke quietly, afraid you’d wake up from some hallucination. But you never did. Even as the grin on his face widened and he drew closer to you. His arms wrapped around you for a second time that night, but he pulled you closer than before. It wasn’t the embrace of a friend but of a lover. You leaned into his touch memorizing the sound of his heartbeat and the warm scent that clung to him.
He kissed you. It was sudden, but you didn’t rebuke it. This was everything you’d dreamt of since you first laid eyes on Glorfindel. You pressed your fingers into him, to confirm that he was real and so was this. He touched you like no one ever had, fingers threading through your hair. Your mind was white, any thought hazy and unfocused. The only clarity you had was the feeling of Glorfindel’s body against you and the press of his lips. Lovely to be pressed against him.
It felt like the beginning of a story you’ve read before.
Hi, I saw that requests are open, I would like to request something with Turgon or Glorfindel (I don't know if you can do the two separately but I'll go on record 😂) where they get stressed or feel incapacitated and the s/o comforts them?
I have a love for this scene and for Turgon and Glorfindel 🤗❤
Thank you ❤
Golden Hair & Gentle Touches
Glorfindel’s day had been dragging out for far too long and he was exhausted. He didn’t want to admit it but,,,he was so tired…He knows that he is supposed to be the optimistic beacon for his people but it was so difficult to keep up sometimes…
God he just wants to see you, today has been too much and he was desperate for your loving embrace. As his feet dragged him to the door of your shared chambers, he sluggishly pushed it open and stumbled in.
He was met with your concerned gaze as you strode towards him. When you reached him, your soft hands cupped his face and he leaned into your soft touch, sighing as he did. This simple domestic bliss made the hardship of the day all worth it.
“Are you alright darling?” you asked softly, “You look exhausted” He let a soft laugh slip past his lips at that little remark. “I feel it… I’m just glad to be home.”
He leaned forward and placed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he did. This…These are the moments when he could practically feel the love radiating from you, and he felt a smile twitch onto his face as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.
“I ran you a bath darling, I thought you might be worn out by the time you got home”. He felt himself give out an almost whimper at such a simple yet loving act. You were always doing small things like this for him, you reason that you just wanted to help him feel a little better, and by Eru you always did.
“I definitely enjoy a bath, and I wouldn’t say no to you joining me” He couldn’t help the teasing tone that slipped into his voice with that remark, but in reality, he just wanted to have you there so the both of you could hold one another and forget the woes of the day.
“Well, I don’t think I can turn down such a wonderous offer” You smiled up at him with warmth and love unlike anything he had ever seen and at that moment Glorfindel felt such a strong rush of love for you that he couldn’t resist the urge to scoop you up and walk the pair of you towards the bathroom to enjoy your small moment of peace.
When he reached the bathroom, you helped him undress and climb into the tub. As the warm water began to work its magic on his aching form, you reached for a jug and conditioning potion to wash his golden hair with. As your talented hands began soothing his scalp with soap, and his eyes began to flutter close, Glorfindel’s mind travelled to you and all your kind deeds.
“Thank goodness he had you to make the sunrise sweeter and the nights so comforting,” Glorfindel thought to himself. He doesn’t know how else he would be able to cope, and with that sweet thought, he felt himself drift into a peaceful sleep.
he’s very careful with your hair. it’s so beautiful and unlike anything he’s ever seen -- let alone braided -- so he’s cautious with every plait he makes. you’re welcome to show him the styles best for your texture, but he’ll just raise a brow: “you think i can’t do this?” and in all honesty, he can’t. his fingers will be caught in your curls in just a few minutes, and he’ll burn bright red as you try to untangle the mess he’s made. only then will he let you explain, and tell him what products help. he’ll listen intently, and that much will be proven when you come home one day to new creams and circlets atop your desk -- courtesy of the king himself ♡
elrond:
he’s far more open to learning then our last elf. a part of him is scared to mess up the lovely curls you always seem to have, but his fingers are practically itching to show off their braiding skills and court you correctly. he’ll let your fingers guide his as you teach him the different twists and styles that are most protective, and he’ll be completely amazed. once he has a grasp, it’ll be hard to get him to leave your hair alone, even when he has far more important rivendell duties to attend. but, you can ensure, in his free time he’ll be by your side, trying his hand at another style he deems absolutely perfect for royalty like you ♡
glorfindel:
your hair is quite the comfort for this elf. as much as he loves your fingers running through his gold locks when he’s upset, nothing distracts him more from his worries than playing with your hair -- even if running his fingers through it is absolutely out of the question (he learned the hard way). luckily, he’s quick with picking up skills, and learning all your favorite styles is no different. you’re actually quite surprised when he’s able to complete the more intricate twists, adding his own little pizazz of tinier courting braids framing your face in the most elegant of ways ♡
legolas:
he may be the most excited of all the elves -- with little to no hesitation holding him back from touching your hair at all times. he wants to place every type of circlet atop your head and try his hand at whatever courting braid will work best with your curls. he absolutely adores picking flowers to add into each style, even when you complain of them getting tangled or falling out. he’ll just smile and tell you he’ll always be there to redo your hair, whenever you need. there are truly few things that bring as much of a smile to his face as playing with your hair and styling it does ♡
haldir:
now, elves aren’t usually swayed by physical appearances -- but if haldir had to list his favorite features on you, your hair would easily be in the top two or three. you can count on him to describe or mention your luscious curls in every poem/letter he sends you from his post, and when he returns home he’s always very excited to put in a new courting braid to replace the last one. he’s super delicate, even when you say he needs to be a little more confident in his actions, but that will only lead him to going on a rant about what a fragile flower you are as he continues to plait your curls. im afraid it’s just a battle you can’t win -- so you might as well let him have his way ♡
lindir:
you will definitely have to take the initiative in this process. lindir is beyond anxious, though he’s not uninterested -- quite the opposite, in fact. he loves you in every way imaginable and can hardly believe you accepted his courting request, so there’s nothing more terrifying to him than messing up your braids and embarrassing himself. it’s only after you’ve done his hair that he shyly asks you to teach him to do yours, and he’s in absolute heaven when he’s finally able to play with your curls. he’ll always be quite sheepish when asking to do your hair, but he’ll grow more confident as time goes on, and soon enough he’ll be bringing you circlets and flowers from all around rivendell to help you accessorize (with his help, of course) ♡
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a/n: i hope u guys enjoy this one :> i’m still working on everyone’s requests, do not fret!! i just got this idea during a break from hw and had to write it !! it’s def hard to find content like this -- from what i’ve seen at least -- and i wanted to make sure all us curly-haired tolkien fans had some cute headcanons!! i kept it gender-neutral as well, so i hope it’s inclusive enough!! love u all!! xoxo
A/N: I've never been one for writing the whole 'modern–day reader falling into Middle Earth stories', I always preferred to read them. So, I'm attempting my hand at this for the first time. It is a bit different from what is typically written. So, here's your Glorfi fic that won the poll.
Warnings: none, tooth-rotting fluff, Glorfindel has learned how to use his charisma.
Words: 1k
Synopsis: Talks of heroism and villainy become the new philosophical method of displaying one's charm.
“There’s a saying about villains and heroes where I’m from,” you began, your voice thoughtful and reflective. “It goes something like this: ‘A hero would sacrifice you to save the world, but a villain would sacrifice the world to save you.’”
Swinging gently in the breeze, swaying side to side in your hammock, your elven Lord sat across from you, engrossed in the exchange of tales and sayings from your world. Each day seemed to bring a new layer of fascination as he delved into the intricacies of human culture and thought. He had never expected your arrival to kindle such curiosity and interest in his heart. Mortals were extraordinary beings, but your presence had illuminated new facets of their nature that he had yet to explore.
His gaze followed the motion of the potted celandines hanging above, his lips pursed in contemplation as your words settled into his mind. “Care to elaborate?” he inquired, his curiosity genuine.
Shouldering a casual shrug, accompanied by a half–formed smirk, you stretched languidly in the hammock, nestling further into its embrace. You playfully placed your small feet beside his torso. “It’s just one of those sayings people come up with, you know? Derived from observations about heroes and villains,” your tone conveyed a sense of ease, as if you were simply relaying common wisdom passed down to you. “Heroes are driven to save the world, which in turn saves their loved ones. However, sometimes, their loved ones end up perishing in the process of saving the world. On the other hand, villains prioritize protecting their loved ones before pursuing their goal, even if that means destroying the world.”
His brow furrowed as he mulled over your explanation, his expression a canvas of deep contemplation. With each piece of your interpretation, it was as if puzzle pieces were clicking into place within his mind, accompanied by mental light bulbs illuminating his understanding. His appearance resembled that of a bemused puppy, and you couldn’t help but toy with the idea of labelling him your “Golden Retriever,” a nickname he strangely seemed to embody.
“What specifically are you conveying here?” Glorfindel’s head tilted to the side, his gaze fixed on you with a tinge of displeasure. “Your words seem to imply that villains are superior to heroes, given their commitment to safeguarding their loved ones. I find myself in disagreement with that declaration.”
Laughter bubbled from your lips in response to his dissatisfaction, prompting you to sit upright and meet his gaze directly. “What it suggests is that when faced with a choice between saving the world or saving their beloved, a hero would typically choose the world, while a villain would opt for their loved one,” you clarified. “Heroes tend to be focused on overarching morality and the greater good, whereas villains are often more concerned with their personal connections. It’s a play on perspectives—what’s considered right or wrong isn’t always straightforward.”
Glorfindel blinked rapidly, his gaze unwavering as he sat upright to face you directly. His unruly golden locks, cascading like sun–kissed tendrils, framed his countenance like an ethereal halo. A soft blush warmed your cheeks despite the intellectual discourse at hand. It was easy to lose yourself in these conversations, and at times, it almost felt like he possessed an uncanny awareness of his own effect on you.
“I beg to differ,” he asserted firmly, a challenge evident in his voice. “I am regarded as a hero by many for my accomplishments, and I would never permit harm to befall either the world or my beloved. I would strive to safeguard both.”
Raising an eyebrow, you leaned in, your foreheads nearly touching as you met his steadfast gaze. “And how, might I ask, do you intend to accomplish such a feat, renowned Lord Balrog Slayer?”
Drawing even closer, his forehead pressed gently against yours, and he whispered with an air of triumph, “I would ensure your safety...for you are my world. Without you, the world would lose its meaning; you are the bane of my essence, my reason for existence, the very breath I inhale. There can be no world without you at my side, just as there can be no you without the world. As a hero, I would save my world, meleth–nîn. I cherish you deeply.”
A lump formed in your throat, a mixture of emotions leaving you momentarily speechless. The rising heat in your cheeks contrasted with the tears that shimmered in the corners of your eyes. The rush of emotions and the depth of his words left you with a heartwarming smile. Glorfindel’s eloquence had the power to move your soul and reshape your worldview. He effortlessly wove his sentiments into words that stirred your heart, offering you a love and life you had previously only encountered in fairytales. The dream of falling in love with Prince Charming had become a vivid reality ever since you had stumbled into Middle–earth and into his arms.
In the stillness that followed, he took advantage of the moment, his fingers gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. He placed soft kisses on your forehead and cheeks before hesitating, his lips hovering near yours. The anticipation hung in the air, drawing out the moment until his lips finally met yours in a fleeting, yet intense, kiss.
Pulling away, his lashes brushed against your skin as his lips traced playful patterns along your cheeks. “You’re quite the romantic, you know?” you giggled.
“If it means being right, then I shall embrace the role of the romantic for you, my beloved,” he murmured, a warmth of affection evident in his smile.
“Just ensure you tie your hair before rushing to save me, I don’t need another hair–pulling accident in this day and age.”
Request: Good morning/night! Can I please request headcannons with Canrathir or Glorfindel x s/o who has a legendary sword like Excalibur? The sword was in a rock for hundreds of years and only the one worthy of Eru can wield it? And their s/o has it? Maybe it’s solid gold and can light on fire whenever they touch it and burn anyone but the reader? Whenever their s/o wields it, they’re eye glow golden?
A/N: As I was writing this, I was watching Bleach at the same time and was about to incorporate elements of the Zanpakuto into this headcanon (and I did). Maybe you can spot a few elements of it in this if you're an anime lover like myself.
᯽ Before you meet Glorfindel, you were a part of the Dúnedain and came to Imladris after being injured during an orc raid while travelling. It was the twins who had found you during their annual hunt and brought you back for healing. The twins were the ones who immediately recognized you and spread the word that you were here.
᯽ Through the spreading of the news, Glorfindel learned that you were one of the remaining Dúnedain and wielded a weapon like no other. Being intrigued by this, as a warrior who grew up around many great weapons, he was eager to learn about yours and how you came by it or how it was made.
᯽ It would not be until weeks after your remedial as you were walking around Imladris and enjoying the serenity and timelessness of the realm, you would sense the cornering of another figure in the distance lurking. As a skilled warrior, it would not be difficult for you to suspect it to be an elf Lord from the aura he emitted.
᯽ Making himself known to you, Glorfindel would cut the pleasantries after ensuring that you were healthy and free to engage in a hearty conversation, to ask about the weapon the twins stated that you carried.
᯽ He wasn’t the first person to inquire and surely would not be the last, there was no harm in engaging in a light conversation with the golden-hair elf Lord.
“It is Calahto, the language of the Calquendi for ‘Lightbringer’. It was a sword buried in a rock from the early days of creation when the first elves walked the earth, placed by Eru himself. They said only someone of greatness would be able to remove it. I guess that was me.”
᯽ From that day onwards, you were treated with the utmost respect that an elf could condone to another being. Glorfindel viewed you in his eyes as a gift send from Eru himself into the world to bring about great change, and he would constantly remind you that.
᯽ He will even go the distance to train and teach you everything that he knows about strategy and fighting, even if you knew, he’ll build on your already given strengths. If you are to go into the world and be a saviour/warrior, you must learn everything he knew.
᯽ It gets even better when you demonstrate that your sword has levels it can upgrade to when you call out its name. Since your sword was known as a Lightbringer, it had to ability to draw out light and reflect, even making the sword invisible to the eye. That blew Glorfindel’s mind since most of the words he knew were never able to perform so highly. Sparring matches were no longer the same.
᯽ Your days spent with him training you would be filled with wonder and great history of the past. Learning about all the great swords from the ancient days and how yours compared to the wonders the others were named after. Glorfindel would even go as far as to bestow you a new name as you wield your sword.
“I still don’t know what was so great about me to remove this sword. Surely it was not strength otherwise others would have removed it. I still cannot see what Eru saw in me to remove this…weapon and his plans for me.”
“Greatness isn’t always strength or power, sometimes it is the heart and mind. We are individuals in this world with our own purpose and yours is different from the rest of us for a good reason. Whatever greatness you have been bestowed, that is for you alone to discover and know. Treasure your values and worth.”
᯽ To him, you were a relic, and it pained his heart to learn that your duty was to perhaps be a great saviour when his heart sang long songs and poems. You were great in his eyes, but underneath that, he saw the simplicity and beauty of your soul. The wonderful person you were apart from being a traveller and warrior.
᯽ While long hours would be spent training you, hours would also be spent with him professing his undying love but understanding that he could not make you stay or keep you back. It would be an act of defiance against Eru’s will.
᯽ However, he doesn’t allow the fact to hinder him from making a move to capture your heart, even if you cannot stay, he wants you to take his with you wherever you may go into his world. He believes it will keep you safe.
“I wish I could keep you here, away from the harshness of the world you would face out there, but I cannot. I want to fight to keep you in my arms, keep you safe—I know you are strong enough to protect yourself, but it is the wish of someone who loves you dearly. All I ask is that you stay safe and return to me when you are finished?”
᯽ When you depart to travel with the twins, he would visit the hilltops coming closer to your supposed return and wait every day for you with flowers. There are times he sends prays and small mercies your way to guide you home and ensure you are safe and sound.
Request: Headcanons for Glorfindel they catch their SO dancing alone in a secluded garden, lost in thought or maybe imagining he is dancing with them. It's vague but it's something I do all the time and I'm curious as to what our golden puppy would do. - @the-phantom-of-arda
A/N: I wrote him having a S/O who dances since it gives more content.
ʚɞ Dancing among the elves is not an uncommon activity for most if not all of them to engage in. For them, it is a festive activity which indicates their happiness and liveliness. Once music was involved, dancing would soon follow.
ʚɞ He would have seen you dancing with other elves during festivals or balls, smiling and showing off your glee. To him, it never irritated or annoyed him when he observed you interacting with others during festive events. His goal was to see you happy.
ʚɞ During those balls, he wouldn’t hesitate to tap on your shoulder, indicating he would like to step in and take the lead between you both. His dancing is fluid as he leads the way, ensuring that you always appeared as graceful as a flower, twirling about the room in your flowy clothes.
ʚɞ His goal, whenever you are dancing with him, is to never outshine you. Take the lead and guide you across the floor, show you off like the star you were.
ʚɞ There are times he prefers to step back, not intervening, and observe the beauty that you were when twiddling and fluttering about the room.
ʚɞ Even as simple as watching you dance about your room when arranging your flowers and such, he’ll sit back and observe with a huge grin that told anyone ‘He’s in love’. You’re mind far and you’re humming a tune, dancing and skipping across the wooden floorboards and Glorfindel is at peace.
ʚɞ It doesn’t matter whether he’s stumbled across you or not, he doesn’t engage unless you request it of him. Other than that, he stands aside and observes with hearts in his eyes.
ʚɞ Whether music is within distance or not, you become the musician and bring your tune to your dancefloor and lead the way. Reaching out to grasp his hand and tug him into your embrace, moving him to the sway of your body.
ʚɞ You can’t help but get overly excited when he participates in all your fiasco when you’re attempting to pull more daring dance moves. Asking him to lift you into the air as you run into his arms or having him drop gives you a little throw to catch and bring you into a dip.
ʚɞ They might appear as though they give him a fright, but to Glorfindel, he adores each little interactive moment spent.
ʚɞ From dancing at balls and festivals to dancing in the woods during your picnics. He carries a small harp (which he learned how to play for the sake of privacy during such times) and he’ll strum a few tunes he learned were your favourite.
ʚɞ On late evenings when he’s finished his reports and making rounds around Imladris, ensuring its safety, a glass of wine, the hearth crackling away and the both of you are swaying under what little moonlight is granted.
ʚɞ Sometimes he likes to have you stand on his feet, for no particular reason at all, mostly for the fun of it. He doesn’t even bother when you step on his feet accidentally, all he does he smile and shake his head, making a mental comment about your two left feet.
ʚɞ While it isn’t a frequent activity that takes place every night, you can guarantee that every week you both have a few hours cut out for you both to dance in the comforts of your room.
ʚɞ It’s a part of the quiet slice of life he waited so long to have. Glorfindel would not give it up for the world no matter how many times you’ve stepped on his feet or your two left feet.
