Helloo! Hope it's not too much to ask a bit of food with Lindir and number 21? Your writing is sooo delicious and Lindir is criminally underrated
Urgent Care- Lindir x Reader
Summary: Found passed out and freezing, Lindir worries while Elrond tries to heal you
Tolkien tag list: @littlemadamred @iwasonlytemporary
Lindir tag list: @dazaiosamub1tch @groovy-lady
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Your skin was like ice when the patrol elves finally found you. You were breathing, but unresponsive.
“Quickly, put your cape around her and we’ll take her back to Lord Elrond,” you faintly heard someone call, “sound the alarms! It’s urgent!”
Though you squirmed ever so slightly at the shouts, you did not wake. Once you were hauled up onto a horse, the world went black again.
Lindir had been pacing for hours. You’d just gone for a walk and should have been home hours ago. At the sound of the alarm, Lindir arrived to meet you before even Lord Elrond or his warrior sons did. He moved with a speed fuelled by love.
Before Lindir could race to drag you off the horse, worry filling his veins and taking over his mind, Elrond held him back.
“Lindir, go prepare a room in the medical bay for me,” Elrond spoke to his friend, making sure to look deep into his eyes.
Elrond knew what love can make you do, but right now there needed to be calm heads.
Though he followed what Lord Elrond had said, he couldn’t help to turning back to watch you. His worry ran so deep that internally he even critiqued how you were lifted off the horse and carried.
You looked as though you were dead, body limp and face frail. He had to turn away, because he knew if he looked too long, he’d run to you.
Elrond and the others raced through the door just as Lindir had finished the room. Placing you down on the bed, Lindir instinctively touched your skin. You were still freezing and he was furious.
“She’s ice cold! How is she not warm? What did you cover her in the thinnest fabric you had available!? She could die!” Lindir uncharacteristically shouted at the head guard.
“Lindir!” Elrond berated, “That’s enough!”
Lindir had never experienced this level of fury before, utter hatred toward the one he had labeled responsible. Never had anyone ever feared him, but in this moment, the whole room could feel his fury.
With a deadly glare, Lindir stormed out of the room.
Three hours, three long and torturous hours Lindir had paced out the front of the door. It wasn’t until he stopped at the door opening did he realise how much his legs and feet ached.
“She is awake, and asking for her love,” Elrond spoke gently.
All manners and usual pleasantries for his lord were nonexistent. Barging past him and into the room, he had tunnel vision for your face alone. Even though you still appeared sickly and weak, he had never found you more beautiful.
“My love,” he quietly whispered, his voice cracking and eyes never leaving your face.
He placed a gentle hand on yours as he sat beside the bed on a small chair. Relief rushed through him at both your smile and the warmth of your skin. His other hand raised to your warm cheek, and tears began to flow from his eyes.
“My love, I thought I had lost you,” his cries were heard all down the hall, and every elf who heard them felt his pain.
Just your hand and face was not enough. With grace, he crawled onto the bed with you, pulling you to his chest and holding you tight. Closing his eyes and rocking you, he only felt calm and knew sleep with you in his embrace.
He can’t make it in time - something falls right onto his head. Even slips further a little, tickling the eyelids.
What has just happened…?
He feels so startled. He raises his fingers to adjust whatever it is. As his eyes find brilliant pink petals on his shoes, around them - he understands what it is - a flower crown. Quite… fluffy because of the amazing amount of flowers in it. Every movement and new petals fall off.
- Oh-oh…
He hears above him and takes a look up. A group of female elves and guests of the place are giggling, standing on the wide balcony. His cheeks get warm. To say explicitly who has dropped the handmade treasure difficult but… someone seems to be blushing and rubbing her face far too much for someone who didn’t make the it. Someone who…
He lightly clears his throat and takes it off:
- [Ladies?]
- Keep it as a moral compensation! - the squeak happens and he can’t help but smile politely and more bashfully. The group laugh loudly that the birds fly off the trees.
Omg okay… so I had this thought randomly and now I wanted to know if you were open to writing the scenario… The Hobbit/Lord of the rings… Thranduil, Legolas, Kili (and honestly anyone else you want who isn’t human if you’d like) and their reaction to their pregnant human s/o’s cravings. Like I don’t know if pregnant elves and dwarves had those cravings (they probably do??) but like their reactions to the really weird human cravings, because I bet there is definitely ones they aren’t used to due to cultural differences, right? So like those cravings that genuinely make them question and maybe cringe because it seems so gross to them?? Genuinely just those weird food combo cravings lmaoo.
No pressure to write this btw! I don’t know if your request are even open?? If they aren’t then please ignore this- I’m so sorry 😭! Either way I love your writing/posts and have a great day🥺🥰.
Hi anon - and yes, I am willing to do so. I imagine elves and dwarves probably do have pregnancy cravings, although this was written more on the idea that they don't. Also, I have never been pregnant. I have incredibly limited experience when it comes to pregnancy, so I am so sorry if this is inaccurate. Hope people still enjoy!
(this fic is also centred a lot more around support and reactions than actual pregnancy)
✧ Probably the most concerned out of all of the elves.
✧ Thranduil has experienced a loved one having a pregnancy before, of course. But it’s still so… different.
✧ He still loves you, of course, but when he first encounters it there is heavy staring. A brief ask of if you are okay.
✧ When you explain it’s just a sign of human pregnancy then he nods, before realising no-one has told him this.
✧ You only seem him immediately leave (off to yell at the royal doctors for not informing him of this. And asking what other details they are holding back.)
✧ Comes back a little later with a checklist of different symptoms, and asking if they are happening or might happen.
✧ Does consistently get a curious face when he sees you do something.
✧ As you’re eating an odd craving you can tell if he’s there, because you suddenly feel watched. Thranduil doesn’t seem to entirely realise how off-putting this is.
✧ After hearing reports of you sneaking into the royal kitchens to grab a specific sauce (to put on your blackberries, of all things). He quietly pulls you aside and says that you don’t have to sneak around.
✧ All cooks and kitchen workers are under royal orders to make you whatever (there’s a slight haunted look as he says that word) you please.
✧ Will also certainly import a specific food if it cannot easily be found in Mirkwood.
𝐋𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬
✧ Definitely depends on the time being post or pre-Fellowship.
✧ If it’s pre-Fellowship he’s a lot more perplexed by it. He won’t question you, but he’s politely curious about it.
✧ “You mean to say that these things… taste nice together? But, meleth nîn, how?”
✧ Goes to ask his father. Which is entirely unhelpful, as Thranduil has few answers either - at least on the odd cravings side of pregnancy.
✧ Comes back to you with a smile, and whatever food you’d recently been angling, before presenting it to you and giving you a small kiss.
✧ “I hope you enjoy it, my cestaedas.”
✧ Post-Fellowship he’s a lot more accepting and less immediately confused about it.
✧ You want a flavour combination that he would only eat a knife-point? You have most adventurous taste, and of course he’d be happy to get it for you.
✧ Will sometimes try a bit of your random concoctions if you allow him (he has a surprisingly good record, helped mainly by the use of puppy-dog eyes).
✧ It always makes you smile to see his face afterwards, either a polite attempt to hide disgust or genuine, obvious shock that it tastes nice.
✧ Has joked once or twice, while eating one of your cravings he enjoys, that you’re corrupting him.
𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐫
✧ Lindir really, truly loves you. Which is why he’s willing to put up with all of the combinations that you’re craving.
✧ As an elf, he has heightened senses. Heightened senses that do not particularly agree with some of the combinations you consume.
✧ He’s slightly more sensitive to the aromas (and imagined tastes) than some elves are, so it can occasionally be a struggle for him depending on what you’re eating.
✧ Still completely supports you, and reminds you everyday that just because his body reacts adversely to it doesn’t mean he loves you any less.
✧ (Also makes you promise to indulge your cravings if you want to; don’t make his slightly discomfort a priority in your pregnancy.)
✧ Privately, he asks Elrond if cravings are a sign of anything wrong. Feels better after being well-informed, that it’s natural. A sign that often comes up in a healthy pregnancy.
✧ Stands up against the watching eyes in Rivendell as well. None of the elves are judgemental - merely curious - but he knows how eyes on you can feel.
✧ Validates any worries or insecurities that it’s wrong or gross very well, with reassurances that all of this is natural, and that he loves you regardless.
𝐄𝐥𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐝
✧ Has witnessed enough pregnancies to know the body can be… unusual during the time period.
✧ Also researches a lot about human pregnancies to ensure that he can safely provide for you.
✧ So, when cravings come he’s prepared for it. And slightly… disturbed isn’t the right word.
✧ Because he knows it’s natural, but in all the pregnancies he’s assisted it hasn’t really happened. So he simply refers to it as ‘new’.
✧ There’s also a tiny bit of curiosity as a healer. Some questions are peppered in here and there, because you are his living, breathing loved one - not just some words on a page.
✧ If you mention you have a craving, it’s often him who will go and get something for you.
✧ Becomes a usual sight to see Lord Elrond in the kitchen, with ingredients that only look slightly insane, while muttering something and taking far too much care in their preparation.
✧ Sometimes, he’ll try and present this dish formally (he’s the kind of person to make a decorative fruit plate with apples carved into swans and so on).
✧ Is rewarded by your slight laugh, which in returns puts a large smile on his face.
𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧
✧ Is a lot less concerned that most of the elves are.
✧ That still doesn't mean that - the first time you tell him about a craving - he’s not slightly concerned.
✧ Of course he’ll help get it for you, but why. Why do you need this?
✧ As you dig into your food, you see him watching you out of the corner of his eye. A small smile on his face as he watches.
✧ When confronted he simply says he’s curious, and that you look so happy. Even when eating… that.
✧ Thorin does ask the royal physician afterwards, but he does so privately. Still makes quite a lot of notes on it.
✧ Whenever you ask for something, he will always make sure that you can get it as fast as you can.
✧ Even if that means importing things - Erebor isn’t great for a lot of foods - because it’s worth it for his queen.
𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐢
✧ Only thing he’d be truly concerned about is if you started craving non-edible items.
✧ He reads up on a few journals, and discovers some accounts of pregnant women asking for clay or coal.
✧ Does take you by surprise when he asks, with complete sincerity, for you to not eat any minerals while you’re pregnant. Or to at least let a doctor examine them first.
✧ Kíli doesn’t get why you’re so confused when he says it, and he explains to you the journals he’s read.
✧ After preparing for you to eat rocks or dirt for a week or so, Kíli is fairly unfazed by most of your requests after that.
✧ Often he’ll be the person getting your new combos for you - it always makes him smile when you light up at the sight of whatever food he’s made you.
✧ Of everyone, he is also most likely to try and steal it.
✧ “Please, can I just have a little taste? If you and the baby like it so much I’m sure I will!”
A/N : Also - just a heads up, while writing this I've come to the realisation I don't particularly like writing pregnancy fics, and I won't be writing any more centred around pregnancy. I'm pretty sure I'm fine with kid fics, or fics asking what a certain character would be like as a parent - but I don't enjoy writing the pregnancy aspect. Thanks for understanding, and hopefully some people can still enjoy this.
Oh - I forgot to say this, but the term Legolas uses (cestaedas) is intended to mean curiosity, although technically it's a neologisms from various other reconstructions, so this is not official tolkien Sindarin. Still, it's a pretty interesting word.
For once, you wake up before Lindir - the elf still lying sleepily in bed next to you. Normally he’s in the next room when you wake up, tea ready for you while reading or making notes on some parchment. But you can’t quite bring yourself to leave him just yet (or get out of the warm covers and into the cool air). Instead, you keep lying in bed and staying close to him - hearing the rhythm of his breath while he sleeps.
There’s a shift which makes you tense for a second, but it’s just Lindir moving closer to you. Still asleep, but being remarkably cuddly. It’s at this time you feel the slight want to get up, and you begin to push yourself up before a hand snakes around your wrist with a quiet whisper of, “No…”
Lindir is only just awake, his eyes still scrunched with sleep and his body relaxed, but he keeps a firm hold on you. A gentle tug to get you back into bed with him, to stay with him for a while more. “Please?”
The day began with a rare sense of serenity. The birdsong outside the open windows of Rivendell blended harmoniously with the gentle rustle of parchment as Lindir meticulously sorted through scrolls. You had thought to join him, hoping to lighten his workload and perhaps steal some precious time together amid his endless duties. Yet, what you intended as a thoughtful gesture quickly became a flashpoint for his perfectionist tendencies.
“Not like that,” Lindir said sharply, his voice cutting through the peaceful morning air. He reached over and adjusted the stack of scrolls you had just arranged, his elegant fingers moving with a precision that seemed to mock your efforts. “They need to be ordered chronologically, not by subject. Otherwise, it’ll be chaos when Lord Elrond looks for them.”
The remark was so abrupt, so dismissive, that it caught you off guard. A knot of tension formed in your chest. “I was just trying to help,” you said, your voice calm but tinged with unease. “And I appreciate it,” Lindir replied briskly, though his tone carried no warmth. His hands moved deftly, undoing your work without so much as a glance in your direction. “But if you’re going to assist, it would be more efficient if things were done correctly from the start.”
The sting of his words cut deeper than you cared to admit. Your patience, already frayed by the lack of attention he’d given you lately, began to wear thin. “I am trying to help, Lindir,” you said, your tone sharper now, frustration bubbling to the surface. “You could at least say thank you instead of pointing out what I’m doing wrong every five seconds.”
Lindir sighed, the sound heavy with exasperation. He paused, pressing his fingers to his temples as though warding off a headache. “I’m not trying to be critical,” he said, his voice softer but no less firm. “It’s just that I have a way of doing things, and when it’s done differently, it only creates more work for me later.”
Your temper flared, the dismissive nature of his response fanning the embers of your frustration into a full blaze. “Do you even hear yourself right now?” you asked, the hurt in your voice impossible to mask. “You’re acting like I’m some sort of burden instead of your partner. I’m not one of your assistants, Lindir. I’m doing my best to support you, but all you’re doing is nitpicking.”
His brow furrowed, and for the first time, he looked up at you fully, his gaze steady and unyielding. “That’s not what I’m saying,” he replied, his tone hardening in defense. “You’re twisting my words. All I’m asking is for things to be done properly. Is that really so unreasonable?”
“Yes,” you shot back, your voice rising with each word. “When you’re so obsessed with everything being perfect that you can’t even see the effort I’m putting in! Do you even realize how condescending you sound? It’s like nothing I do is ever good enough for you.” Your accusation landed like a blow, and for a moment, Lindir faltered. His eyes softened, just barely, but instead of relenting, his defensiveness flared. “I hold myself to the same standards,” he retorted, his voice sharp with indignation. “I’m not asking for anything I wouldn’t demand of myself.”
“This isn’t about your work ethic, Lindir!” you snapped, unable to keep the hurt and anger from your voice. “This is about you treating me like I’m incompetent instead of someone you love. I can’t keep doing this—feeling like I have to live up to some impossible standard just to make you happy.” His jaw tightened, and his eyes narrowed, a flicker of hurt flashing behind his icy composure. “That’s not fair,” he said, his tone rising to match yours. “I’ve never asked you to be perfect. All I’ve ever wanted is—”
“To control everything,” you interrupted, cutting him off before he could finish. “You’re so wrapped up in your own expectations that you can’t see how much it’s pushing me away.” The words struck a nerve, and something in Lindir shifted. His shoulders stiffened, his expression darkening like a storm cloud rolling in. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, but the chill in it was unmistakable. “If that’s how you see me, then perhaps it’s better if I handle things on my own,” he said, his words deliberate and biting. “Clearly, my standards are too much for you.”
The weight of his words knocked the breath from your lungs. For a moment, you could only stare at him, your heart pounding painfully in your chest. “So that’s it?” you said finally, your voice trembling as you fought to keep your composure. “You’re just going to walk away instead of owning up to the fact that you’ve hurt me?”
Lindir’s lips pressed into a thin, unyielding line, and his gaze darted briefly to the floor before meeting yours again. “I need some air,” he said, his voice flat and final. Without another word, he turned and walked out, his footsteps echoing in the stillness of the room. The door closed behind him with a resolute thud, leaving you standing there, a mixture of anger, hurt, and heartbreak swirling in your chest. The silence that followed was deafening, heavy with all the things that should have been said but weren’t.
…
The air between you and Lindir had been heavy since the argument, the weight of unspoken words lingering like a storm cloud. For hours, Rivendell’s serene halls and gardens offered no solace to him, nor did the music he often turned to for clarity. As the afternoon sun began to dip toward the horizon, Lindir found himself pacing in his quarters, replaying every heated word in his mind. The memory of your hurt expression struck him deeper than he cared to admit, leaving a dull ache in his chest.
He leaned against his desk, staring down at the meticulously ordered scrolls that had been the source of contention. They now felt hollow, insignificant in the face of what he had done. Lindir’s perfectionism had always been a part of who he was, a trait that had served him well in Elrond’s service. But for the first time, he realized how those same tendencies had cut into something far more precious—his relationship with you.
The thought of you doubting your worth or, worse, his love, filled him with shame. You had only been trying to help, to support him in a way that no one else ever had, and he had brushed aside your efforts with cold, thoughtless words. He rubbed his temple, his elegant features etched with regret. How could he have let his own insecurities and obsession with control drive a wedge between you?
Finally, he couldn’t bear the silence any longer. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Lindir left his quarters in search of you, determined to set things right. He found you sitting alone in the gardens, your posture tense and your gaze distant as you absently toyed with a leaf in your hand. The sight of you, so quiet and withdrawn, made his heart ache.
He approached slowly, his usually graceful steps hesitant. “May I join you?” he asked softly, his voice lacking its usual confidence. You glanced up, your expression guarded. The hurt from earlier still lingered in your eyes, and for a moment, you considered telling him to leave. But something in his demeanor—his uncharacteristic uncertainty, the guilt etched into every line of his face—gave you pause. With a small nod, you gestured for him to sit beside you.
The silence between you was thick, neither of you knowing where to begin. Finally, Lindir spoke, his voice quieter than you had ever heard it. “I… owe you an apology,” he began, his gaze fixed on the ground. “What I said earlier—how I acted—it was wrong. I was thoughtless and unkind, and I hurt you. I’m so sorry.” You studied him for a moment, his vulnerability catching you off guard. “You didn’t just hurt me, Lindir,” you replied, your voice trembling slightly. “You made me feel like I wasn’t enough. Like no matter what I do, it will never be good enough for you.”
Lindir flinched at your words, his usually composed features crumbling under the weight of his guilt. “You are more than enough,” he said earnestly, turning to face you. “You are everything to me. It was never my intention to make you feel otherwise. My… expectations, my need for control—it has nothing to do with you and everything to do with my own failings. I allowed my stress and my perfectionism to spill over into our relationship, and that is unforgivable.”
Your shoulders relaxed slightly at his admission, but the wound was still fresh. “You can’t keep doing this, Lindir,” you said, your voice firm but softer now. “I understand that you hold yourself to a high standard, but you can’t expect everyone else to meet it all the time. Especially not me. I’m not here to be perfect—I’m here to be your partner.”
He nodded, his silver hair catching the fading sunlight as he lowered his head. “You’re right,” he murmured. “I’ve let my sense of duty blind me to what truly matters. I’ve let my habits and my pride hurt the person I love most in this world. And I promise you, I will work on this. I don’t want you to feel like you have to live up to my standards—I want you to feel loved and valued, as you deserve.”
For a moment, the only sound was the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze. Then, Lindir reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bundle, wrapped in a piece of soft linen. He hesitated before offering it to you. “I know this doesn’t fix everything,” he said quietly, “but I wanted to give you something. It’s small, but I hope it shows how much I care.” Curious, you unwrapped the bundle to reveal a delicate flower, its petals a soft, iridescent blue that seemed to shimmer in the light. You recognized it as one of the rare blooms from Rivendell’s highest gardens, a flower that Lindir must have taken great care to find.
Your breath caught, and you looked up at him, surprised. “You picked this for me?” He nodded, his gaze finally meeting yours. “And I want to do more than that,” he said, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “I’ve set aside my duties for the rest of the day. I want to spend this time with you, no schedules, no tasks—just us. If you’ll allow me to try to make this right.”
The sincerity in his voice and the vulnerability in his expression melted the last of your anger. Slowly, you nodded. “Alright,” you said softly. “But Lindir… this can’t just be a one-time thing. I need to know that you’re willing to make room for us, not just your duties.”
“I will,” he promised, his voice firm. “It may take time, but I swear to you, I will do better.” With that, he stood and offered you his hand. You took it, letting him lead you through the gardens. As you walked, the tension between you began to ease. Eventually, Lindir stopped near a quiet clearing, where he had placed his harp earlier. Without a word, he sat and began to play, the soft, heartfelt melody filling the air. The song, delicate and full of emotion, felt like an apology in itself—an expression of everything words couldn’t convey.
As the notes faded into the evening air, you leaned into him, allowing yourself to forgive. Lindir wrapped an arm around you, holding you close as the stars began to appear above. In that moment, you felt the beginnings of a new understanding—a promise that, together, you could find a balance.
The elves reacting to the different types of kisses (forehead, cheek, jaw, wrist elven ear, nose, shoulder, lips...)
Lindir version below. (For the three who’s requested Elrond I am currently writing that so don’t worry 😉)
🎻𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓲𝓻
Forehead kiss
Lindir’s fingers brushed lightly across the strings of his lute, lost in the soft, meandering melody he had been playing for what felt like hours. The room was quiet, save for the occasional chirping of birds outside the window. His mind was in a peaceful place, the music flowing freely, when suddenly, he felt the unexpected sensation of warmth on his forehead. The softest of touches—your lips, delicate and tender, pressing a kiss against his skin.
He froze for just a moment, his heart skipping a beat as he looked up in surprise, his wide eyes meeting yours. The soft contact sent a wave of warmth washing over him, a heat that was not just physical but deeply emotional, settling in his chest. His pulse quickened, and his breath became shallow as the tender gesture lingered in his thoughts.
His lips quivered, the tremble barely perceptible, as he glanced upward at you, his pale cheeks turning a soft pink. The faint sound of the lute was forgotten as his hand, once strumming effortlessly, fell still. The kiss had shaken him in the most unexpected and delightful way. “Such a simple gesture,” he thought, but as he lowered his gaze, the depth of the meaning behind it seemed almost too much for his heart to bear.
He gently placed the lute aside, the faint smile that tugged at his lips betraying his bashfulness. He was usually so composed, so in control of his emotions—his voice often bold, his playing effortlessly confident. But now, in the quiet aftermath of that kiss, he found himself disarmed.
His gaze dropped to the floor, his fingers tugging nervously at the hem of his tunic, trying to hide the flush that colored his cheeks. “I do not deserve such sweetness,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, as though the mere act of speaking might break the spell of tenderness that had enveloped him. But in that moment, he felt utterly cherished, as though all of his troubles and insecurities had been temporarily forgotten in the warmth of your affection.
✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦
Cheek kiss
The soft hum of Lindir’s song was interrupted by the gentle pressure of your lips pressing against his cheek. The suddenness of the kiss took him completely by surprise, and he froze in place, his fingers faltering on the strings of his lute. A soft, startled gasp escaped his lips as he blinked, stunned by the sensation.
The warmth of your kiss lingered on his skin, and a delicate blush spread across his cheeks. The feeling was like the first rays of sunlight on a cool morning, unexpected but so deeply welcome. He couldn’t help but reach up, his fingers trembling slightly as he touched the spot where your lips had just been. His heart was beating too fast, and his mind raced in a quiet frenzy. “Why did you have to do that?” he thought, though the question wasn’t one of discomfort. It was the exact opposite: it was one of surprise and vulnerability.
Lindir’s heart was not something he easily gave away, but your touch, so gentle and so unexpected, had cracked something open within him. His cheeks flushed even deeper, and he turned his head slightly to look at you, his gaze half-lidded, unsure of how to respond. His usual confidence was nowhere to be found, leaving him with nothing but the soft beat of his heart and the warmth still blooming from your kiss.
A feeling of vulnerability swept over him, more profound than anything he had felt before. He was usually so poised, so in control of his emotions, but in this moment, he felt like a young elf again, unsure and tender. He glanced down, his fingers now tracing the curve of his cheek where your lips had left their mark. There were no words to express what he felt; he simply could not fathom the depth of such a small act.
When he met your eyes again, his expression was softer than usual, the walls he so carefully built around himself beginning to crumble. Without a word, he leaned in and pressed his lips against your cheek in return, his kiss gentle and tentative, but full of a love that had no need for words. His touch was his thank you, a silent acknowledgment of the affection you had so freely offered him. In that simple, tender exchange, Lindir found a quiet peace, knowing he had a love so pure, so selfless, it could bring him to the edges of vulnerability without fear.
✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦
Jawline kiss
Lindir had been playing a soft melody on his lute, the notes flowing gracefully from his fingertips, when you suddenly leaned in and kissed him gently on the jawline. The touch was so tender, yet it hit him with a surprising intensity. The warmth of your lips on his skin seemed to send an electric current straight through his body, causing him to freeze in place for a brief moment. His body stiffened, and a soft gasp escaped his lips, his breath catching in his chest.
The feeling was so overwhelming that he felt as if time had stopped for a fleeting second. A shiver ran down his spine, and his pulse quickened with a fierce intensity that caught him completely off guard. His heart raced, his breath coming in shallow bursts as the sensation of your lips lingered against him. His hand, which had been resting by his side, immediately tightened around yours, pulling you closer, as though trying to steady himself in the face of the unexpected surge of emotions.
Lindir’s face flushed a deep shade of crimson, the warmth spreading across his pale cheeks and creeping down to his neck. His fingers trembled slightly, betraying the inner turmoil he was experiencing. He had never expected such a simple gesture to affect him so deeply, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to process it.
“Why do you always manage to make me feel like this?” His voice was low, thick with the emotion he couldn’t fully hide. His words came out softly, filled with awe and something else—vulnerability. He couldn’t help but feel exposed, his heart laid bare by such a simple act of affection. His embarrassment deepened as he realized just how much he had been affected by the kiss, but there was also an undeniable warmth spreading inside him.
Desperate to regain some composure, Lindir leaned in hesitantly, pressing his lips against your cheek in return. His kiss was soft, almost shy, an unspoken thank you for the affection you had shown him. The warmth of your skin against his lips felt comforting, even though his heart was still racing. As he pulled back, his chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, his voice barely a whisper as he chuckled nervously, “I don’t know why you do this to me.” The laughter was a nervous attempt to deflect the intensity of the emotions swirling within him, but there was no hiding the deep affection in his eyes.
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Wrist kiss
Lindir had been lost in his own thoughts, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on the back of your hand. His mind wandered, but the quiet, intimate moment was broken when you lifted his wrist gently to your lips and pressed a soft, lingering kiss there. The sensation of your warm lips against his delicate skin sent a shock of awareness through him, and he immediately blinked, his eyes widening with surprise. His breath hitched as his pulse quickened, a soft flush creeping up his neck and across his chest.
For a moment, he was frozen, unsure of how to respond to such a quiet, tender gesture. It was such an intimate touch, one that seemed to speak volumes without uttering a single word. His heart swelled in his chest, a mixture of surprise and overwhelming affection filling him. His gaze met yours, wide and a little uncertain, as if he were trying to fully comprehend the depth of what had just happened. His lips parted slightly, as though he had something to say, but the words wouldn’t come. “So much affection in such a small place,” he thought, the simple act making him feel deeply loved and cherished.
Despite the warmth flooding through him, a subtle awkwardness settled over Lindir. His usual confidence, especially when it came to his music and his words, seemed to falter in the face of such intimate affection. He found himself struggling to understand how to properly respond. The feeling of your lips still lingered on his wrist, sending soft tremors through his body, and his heart fluttered in his chest, a bit of uncertainty clouding his usually calm demeanor.
He turned his gaze downward, his fingers tracing the spot where your lips had been. For a moment, he lingered in the tenderness of the moment, his chest tightening with emotion. Unable to resist the pull of his feelings, he slowly brought his own hand to your wrist, his lips brushing gently against the delicate skin there. His kiss was soft and slow, an intimate return of the affection you had shown him. There was something incredibly grounding in the gesture, a silent exchange of love that didn’t need words.
When he finally pulled back, his eyes met yours, soft and full of warmth, the uncertainty that had clouded him moments before now replaced by a deep, quiet affection. He didn’t need to say anything—the kiss he had returned spoke everything he needed to express. Still, a small part of him felt shy, as though he wasn’t quite sure how to fully embrace the vulnerability of such an intimate moment. But despite the slight awkwardness, he couldn’t help but smile, his heart full, as he met your gaze once more.
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Lips kiss
Lindir had been walking down the corridor of Rivendell, his thoughts focused on the tasks at hand as the duties of being Lord Elrond’s aide often kept him busy. He held a scroll in his hand, his steps measured and composed as he made his way toward the council hall. The stone walls of the Elven refuge echoed softly with his footsteps, but he wasn’t entirely alone. As he rounded a corner, his gaze was momentarily captured by you standing just ahead.
You had been waiting for him, perhaps knowing he would pass this way, your presence like a quiet whisper in the air. His heart gave an unexpected leap as your eyes met, a gentle smile curving your lips, and for a moment, time seemed to still around him. The responsibilities of his position, the scrolls of duty that weighed in his hand, seemed to melt away as your gaze softened, and your presence surrounded him with a sense of warmth and belonging.
Before Lindir could find the words to greet you, you moved toward him. His breath caught in his throat, and his eyes widened just slightly in surprise, the familiar fluttering of his heart quickening as you stood before him, so close that he could almost feel the warmth of your presence in every fiber of his being.
Without a word, you closed the space between you, your hand rising gently to cup his cheek, and then your lips, soft and tender, brushed against his. The kiss started as a delicate whisper—a brush of affection so light that it almost seemed like a dream. Lindir’s eyes fluttered shut as the warmth of your touch spread through him, his breath hitching for just a moment before he found himself caught in the softness of your kiss.
His lips, initially shy, barely touched yours as he struggled to gather his thoughts, his hands hesitating at his sides before finally moving to cradle yours gently. One of his hands rested on your waist, feeling the delicate curves of your body as his fingers trembled slightly. The kiss was tender, an unspoken exchange of love that he hadn’t known he needed, yet somehow had always longed for.
But as you kissed him more firmly, as if urging him to allow himself to melt into the moment, Lindir’s breath caught again. His heart raced, and his cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink, the warmth of your lips against his causing him to momentarily lose himself in the sensation. His pulse quickened as he leaned into you, surrendering to the connection between you both. He felt his breath grow shallow, his body responding to you in a way that felt both foreign and utterly natural.
Lindir’s hands moved from their tentative place on your waist to hold you more firmly, drawing you closer as he deepened the kiss. His gentle nature gave way to something more earnest, the tender affection he had always carried for you now spilling out in the form of a kiss that was no longer shy or hesitant. The kiss, though still full of tenderness, became more urgent, more desperate, as though he were seeking something deeper within you.
His lips moved against yours in a rhythm of longing and devotion, and for a moment, he forgot the world around him—the duties that had so often consumed him, the responsibilities that had weighed heavy on his shoulders. All that mattered, in that fleeting moment, was the warmth of your touch, the softness of your kiss, and the connection between you.
When he finally pulled away, his face was flushed, and his breathing was uneven, the intensity of the kiss still lingering between you. He gazed at you with wide, soft eyes, his lips slightly parted as he tried to find his words, though none came immediately. He smiled shyly, the vulnerability in his eyes unmistakable, and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before murmuring, “I have never known such sweetness.” His voice was quiet, almost reverent, as though the kiss had revealed something new to him—something beautiful and profound that he hadn’t fully understood until now.
Lindir’s heart was still racing in his chest, his body still responding to the aftershocks of the kiss. He had always been a lover of music, of poetry, and of art, but in this moment, he understood that there was a depth to love that no words, no melody could ever fully capture. The kiss had told him everything he needed to know.
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Temple kiss
The day had turned soft and quiet, the room filled only with the gentle sounds of the wind rustling through the trees outside and the occasional rustle of papers. Lindir was lost in the peace of the moment, his hand resting lightly in yours, his gaze flickering between the lute he’d left aside and your gentle, calming presence. The day had been full of music, but now it was simply about being together—no words, no performance, just the comfort of your company.
It wasn’t until you leaned in that Lindir truly felt the shift. Your lips pressed softly against his temple, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to pause. The warmth of your kiss enveloped him like a soft, protective cloak, and his body responded instantly. A small shiver ran down his spine as the kiss, though simple, carried an undeniable intimacy—a sense of safety, of quiet love, that grounded him completely in the moment.
Lindir closed his eyes for a split second, savoring the feeling of your lips against his skin. The sensation was so gentle, and yet so profound. It wasn’t a kiss of passion or fervor; it was a kiss of care, a kiss that wrapped around him like the very air he breathed. He felt, in that brief moment, that he was home—that with you, nothing else mattered. The world outside faded, leaving only the two of you in this sacred space.
His shoulders, which had been tense with the small, unnoticed stress of the day, relaxed under your touch, his muscles softening as if he were shedding the weight of the world. The tenderness of your gesture melted away the hidden anxieties, and he found himself at peace, his chest rising and falling in slow, steady breaths. He didn’t need to speak, didn’t need to say anything at all. The kiss had spoken all the words he couldn’t find.
Lindir let his forehead rest gently against yours as you lingered close, a wordless exchange of affection flowing between you. He had never been so at ease, so completely content in someone’s presence. His hand, still gently cradling yours, tightened just slightly, the touch full of warmth and trust. A small smile played at the corners of his lips as he leaned in slightly more, savoring the peaceful connection.
In that quiet moment, his thoughts were filled with gratitude, a deep sense of being seen and loved for who he truly was. “You always know how to bring me peace,” he thought softly, a whisper of a thought that spoke more than words could ever express. Your love, so gentle and unwavering, had a way of soothing the weariness that Lindir never realized he carried until moments like these.
As the kiss lingered, the bond between you seemed to solidify, no longer needing to be spoken aloud. It was a bond of quiet moments, of shared affection, and Lindir couldn’t help but feel like everything he needed was right there in your arms, in the gentle touch of your lips against his temple. And in that moment, nothing else seemed to matter.
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Neck kiss
Lindir sat alone in the quiet alcove of Rivendell, his attention absorbed in the scroll before him. The soft rustle of the parchment was the only sound in the peaceful corner, and for a moment, time seemed to stretch on, calm and undisturbed. His fingers lightly traced the script as he worked through the task at hand, the rhythmic nature of his work giving him a sense of grounding. But then, without warning, the atmosphere shifted.
You approached quietly, so gently that he didn’t even hear you until your presence was close. Before he could react, your lips pressed softly against the sensitive skin of his neck. The kiss was light but electric, sending a wave of heat coursing through his body. The warmth of your touch seared through his skin, and Lindir’s breath hitched in surprise. His whole body froze for just a heartbeat, caught between the shock of the moment and the undeniable pleasure it stirred within him.
A soft, barely audible noise escaped his lips—an almost breathless “Ah…”—the sound so foreign and unintentional that it only deepened his immediate fluster. It was a soft mewl, more from the shock of being so tenderly kissed than any real discomfort. His breath quickened as his body reacted instinctively, stiffening under the intensity of the sensation. His pulse hammered in his chest, racing faster with each passing second, the sound of it echoing in his ears.
The kiss on his neck seemed to spread a warmth that radiated throughout his entire body, pooling in his chest and settling deep within him. His skin burned where your lips had met him, and the sensation sent shivers down his spine, a thrill of pleasure and vulnerability washing over him. His face flushed a bright crimson, his skin heated and almost painfully aware of your closeness. Lindir’s fingers clenched involuntarily at his sides, as if he were holding onto something to steady himself, unsure whether to pull away or allow the moment to unfold further.
He turned his head slightly, unable to meet your gaze directly, as if the overwhelming intimacy had caught him off guard. A quiet gasp slipped past his lips, and his words came out in a quiet, trembling whisper, barely audible. “You do things to me that I cannot understand…” His voice was thick with a mixture of awe and confusion. He was always composed—careful and poised—but this gesture, this simple kiss, unraveled him in a way he had not anticipated.
Lindir closed his eyes for a moment, trying to regain his composure, but his heartbeat continued to race, and the sensation of your lips on his neck lingered in his mind. His body was still betraying him, reacting to your touch in ways he couldn’t fully control. Even though he tried to steady his breath, he felt exposed, vulnerable, and yet, in a way, deeply cherished.
The soft, lingering feeling of your kiss seemed to reverberate within him, leaving a mark of warmth that he could not ignore. He could feel the aftershocks of the kiss, like a pulse of affection that he wasn’t sure how to interpret. The tenderness and affection behind it filled him with an overwhelming sense of closeness, a bond that went beyond words. His fingers, still twitching at his sides, finally reached out slowly, brushing against your arm with a gentleness that mirrored the way your lips had touched him.
And even though Lindir still struggled to find the right words, his heart knew the truth of the moment he felt both exposed and loved, his vulnerability laid bare, yet cherished all the more for it. He could not deny the effect you had on him, nor the joy and warmth that filled him after this quiet, intimate exchange.
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Hand kiss
The evening had fallen quietly around Rivendell, the soft glow of lanterns reflecting off the stone floors as Lindir and you walked side by side down a narrow corridor. The distant sound of Elven voices filled the air, but for a moment, it was just the two of you—caught in a peaceful, shared silence. Lindir’s thoughts drifted, his mind at ease with the beauty of the night, until your hand suddenly slipped into his.
It was a simple touch, but the intimacy of it caught him off guard. He looked at your hand, his heart skipping a beat at the way your fingers intertwined with his. His breath faltered for a brief moment, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he allowed the warmth of your hand to anchor him, feeling the quiet strength and tenderness of your presence.
Then, without saying a word, you brought his hand gently to your lips. The soft press of your kiss against his knuckles was like a spark, igniting a quiet fire within him. The warmth of your lips lingered there, and Lindir felt a sensation he had not expected—tenderness, affection, and a profound sense of being cherished.
His breath caught in his chest, his heart swelling with emotion. He had always been the one to give, to share his music, his art, and his words, but in this moment, he was overwhelmed by the quiet love you offered him without asking for anything in return. His hand, usually so occupied with the duties of his position, felt like it was made of something softer, more delicate, now that it rested in your care.
Lindir’s eyes lifted to meet yours, his gaze softening as he allowed himself to fully experience the moment. There was no need for grand declarations or sweeping gestures, just the quiet intimacy of your kiss. His pulse quickened, and a small, shy smile played at the corners of his lips. “Your touch is always so gentle,” he thought, his chest tightening with emotion. His voice was soft, his tone filled with a quiet awe, “I’ve never known such tenderness before.”
Still holding your hand, he brought his other hand to yours, lifting it delicately and pressing his lips to your knuckles in return. The kiss was slow, deliberate, and full of the love he felt for you. His lips lingered there for a moment, a gesture of gratitude, an offering of his own affection.
When he pulled back, there was a slight flush to his cheeks, a soft vulnerability in the way he looked at you. “You have a way of making everything feel… beautiful,” he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. His heart still fluttered with the intensity of the moment, and the simplicity of your affection made him feel as though he was floating in a world that existed just for the two of you.
He tightened his hold on your hand, a silent promise—one he would keep, for as long as he had the breath to do so. The warmth of your touch remained with him, filling him with a joy that he would carry with him for the rest of his days.
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Shoulder kiss
The quiet halls of Rivendell hummed with the soft sounds of the day—an occasional rustle of papers, the distant pluck of strings from a lute, and the murmur of conversations echoing down the long corridors. Lindir, ever the dutiful aide, was absorbed in his work at his desk, his hands moving with precision as he read through letters and wrote responses for Lord Elrond. He had long ago mastered the art of filtering out distractions, his mind solely focused on his responsibilities. So when you approached him, he didn’t hear your soft steps or sense your presence until it was too late.
Without a word, you leaned in, and your lips brushed against his bare shoulder. The soft pressure of your kiss was a complete surprise, a gentle warmth that seemed to permeate his very being. Lindir’s body froze for a fraction of a second, the unexpectedness of the touch pulling him from his thoughts. His breath hitched in his chest, his heart racing as though it had been startled into beating faster. He closed his eyes, momentarily overwhelmed by the sheer tenderness of the gesture.
The sensation of your lips against his skin sent a pleasant shiver through him, the heat radiating from where you kissed him, spreading through his body in waves. His breath became shallow as his pulse quickened, and a deep blush began to color his cheeks, painting his pale skin a delicate shade of pink.
Lindir had always been self-conscious about his appearance, especially when it came to his more vulnerable spots—his shoulders, his neck, the softer parts of him he had never fully embraced. But your kiss—so soft, so tender—made him feel seen in a way he couldn’t explain. It was as if, for that moment, you looked past his insecurities and simply cherished him for who he was.
The intimacy of it made his emotions swell, and he fought to steady his breath. “This closeness…” he thought, his heart full of gratitude and quiet affection. The vulnerability he usually felt in such moments was soothed by the calm, steady warmth of your touch. The simple kiss on his shoulder filled him with a quiet sense of belonging, of love, as though you had wrapped him in a safe, unspoken embrace.
When you finally pulled back, Lindir slowly opened his eyes, his gaze soft and filled with a mixture of awe and love. His hands found yours, gently pulling you closer as his lips parted into a shy, warm smile. “You do not know how much your kindness means to me,” he whispered, his voice full of quiet sincerity.
Without another word, he leaned forward, closing the distance between you, and pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that spoke volumes—an unspoken promise, a quiet thank you for the love and warmth you had shown him in such a simple, profound way.
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Nose kiss
The evening had settled over Rivendell in a soft glow, the lanterns casting their golden light on the stone walls as you and Lindir walked through the halls. The day’s duties had faded into the background, replaced by a shared moment of laughter and ease as you strolled together, trading stories and teasing each other in that familiar way that came from being close. Lindir was telling you about a song he had recently composed, his voice warm and light as he laughed along with the rhythm of his own words. The sound of his laughter was like music in the quiet hall, playful and full of joy.
In the middle of his tale, you leaned in without warning, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. The contact was unexpected, and Lindir froze for a moment, his eyes wide as he registered the gentle touch. He blinked at you, his expression one of surprise, his lips parting in a soft laugh that seemed to escape before he could fully catch his breath. The touch was light, almost mischievous, but it filled him with a joy that he couldn’t quite contain.
His cheeks flushed instantly, a soft pink spreading across his face as he reached up, almost instinctively, to brush his fingers lightly against his nose where your lips had just been. He couldn’t suppress the warmth that blossomed within him, the deep rush of affection he felt for you. “Did you just kiss my nose?” he asked, his voice light and teasing, but the softness in it revealed just how deeply he cherished even the simplest gestures from you. His laugh, still ringing with warmth, filled the hallway, making the air around him feel lighter.
“You always know how to make me smile,” he thought, his heart soaring with the sweetness of the moment. The playfulness of it all was such a contrast to his usual composed nature, and yet, it made him feel more alive than ever. The gentle kiss on his nose, so playful and yet filled with love, made him feel cherished in a way he hadn’t realized he craved until that moment.
Blushing even more, Lindir leaned in and kissed your cheek, the gesture swift but full of warmth. His heart raced in his chest, and his breath came in a soft sigh as he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. His smile deepened, and the joy in his eyes was unmistakable.
“You have such a way with me,” he murmured, his voice soft, the playful banter still lingering between you. But as he gazed at you, it was clear that he was more than just amused—he was moved, his love for you reflected in every glance, every smile. Even in the midst of your teasing, you had a way of making him feel special, seen, and deeply loved.
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Elven ear kiss
Lindir sat at his desk in his private chambers, the soft flicker of candlelight casting gentle shadows on the papers scattered in front of him. His dark chestnut brown hair fell gracefully over his shoulders, partly veiling his ears as he concentrated on his task. The quiet hum of the wind outside and the rhythmic scratching of his quill on parchment were the only sounds in the otherwise still room. His mind was fully absorbed in the task at hand: carefully recording a report for Lord Elrond. The peace of the moment, the solitude, seemed to settle around him, and for a brief time, the world outside faded into a distant murmur.
Unaware of your presence, Lindir was lost in his thoughts, his focus unbroken as he worked. Then, in an instant, the quiet was pierced by the soft sound of your approach. You moved toward him with the quiet grace that only an elf could possess, your steps almost soundless as you neared. Without warning, you leaned over, pressing your lips gently against the delicate curve of his ear.
The sensation was like nothing Lindir had ever experienced. The kiss, soft as a whisper, made his entire body freeze, every muscle tensing as a shiver of unexpected pleasure raced through him. His breath caught in his throat, and a low, involuntary moan slipped past his lips before he could stop it. The warmth of your lips against his sensitive ear was overwhelming, igniting a rush of sensations that left him temporarily disoriented. His entire body felt as though it had been electrified, each nerve alive and humming with the intimate touch.
Lindir’s eyes fluttered closed as he exhaled sharply, trying to steady himself, to hold onto the moment without becoming entirely lost in it. His pulse quickened, the rhythmic beat pounding in his ears like the sound of distant drums. His heart raced wildly, a deep flush creeping up from his neck to his cheeks, leaving him deeply embarrassed but undeniably elated. “What is it about you…” he thought to himself, his mind struggling to find the words to understand the intensity of what you made him feel.
His ears, finely attuned to every sensation, burned with warmth from your kiss. He could feel his Elven ears, normally hidden beneath the curtain of his hair, turning a shade of red that mirrored the heat flooding his face. His eyes opened slowly, and he turned his head toward you, still dazed from the unexpected intimacy. The softness of your touch lingered in the air around him, as though the kiss had left an imprint on his very soul.
Immediately, Lindir turned away, his hand coming to his face in a desperate attempt to hide his blush. His cheeks burned, the feeling of embarrassment overwhelming as he mumbled under his breath, “I… I didn’t mean to—” But his words were cut short by a soft laugh escaping you. You couldn’t help but giggle at his reaction, finding it utterly endearing. He had moaned, after all, and it had caught him completely off guard.
With a playful grin, you leaned in, pressing your face into the soft waves of his dark chestnut hair, nuzzling him gently. The action only seemed to embarrass Lindir further, and he squeaked in surprise, his body stiffening as though trying to escape the tender, teasing affection. His eyes widened in flustered surprise, and he let out a soft, nervous laugh, half-shocked at the intensity of his own reaction.
“You’re teasing me now,” Lindir whispered, his voice trembling slightly as he tried to regain his composure. But his blush only deepened as he buried his face in his hand, attempting to shield himself from your teasing gaze. His Elven ears burned brighter, the pink hue spreading across his skin like wildfire.
The moment you nuzzled into his hair, Lindir’s breath caught, and he couldn’t stop the quiet laugh that bubbled up from deep within him, the sound a little embarrassed but full of joy. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, shaking his head in playful exasperation, but there was no denying the tenderness in his tone. He could feel his heart still racing from the intimate kiss, but now the warmth of your affection seemed to steady him, even as his face remained flushed and his body still hummed with the aftershocks of your touch.
“You’re not making this any easier, you know,” he added, his voice light and teasing now, though the shy smile that tugged at his lips was still there. He leaned into you, allowing himself a moment of comfort, even as his body flushed with both embarrassment and affection. The overwhelming pleasure of the kiss had made him lose his composure for a moment, but now, in the safety of your embrace, he was beginning to find his footing again.
✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦
Back of the neck kiss
Lindir was nestled in the quiet of his chambers, a plush cushion beneath him as he sat cross-legged, lost in the soothing rhythm of his harp. His fingers moved gracefully across the strings, the delicate melody drifting through the room like a soft breeze. The light of the late afternoon sun filtered through the window, casting a golden glow that danced across the stone floor and illuminated the serene scene. Lindir’s mind was far away, adrift in the music, the familiar comfort of the tune grounding him in a calm, almost meditative state.
He didn’t hear your approach, his attention fully consumed by the melody he was creating. The space around him seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the music and his thoughts. Then, without any warning, you were there—your presence felt only when you leaned down, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin of his neck.
The suddenness of the kiss made Lindir stiffen in surprise, his entire body reacting to the intimate touch. A gasp escaped him before he could stop it, his breath catching as an unexpected shiver ran through him. The kiss on the back of his neck felt like a jolt of electricity, sparking sensations he hadn’t anticipated. His fingers froze mid-strum, the soft melody of the harp falling into an abrupt silence. His whole body tensed, every muscle going rigid as his mind struggled to comprehend the overwhelming feeling.
He held his breath for a moment, feeling the heat of your lips against the delicate nape of his neck, and a wave of warmth spread through his entire body. Goosebumps prickled along his skin, the fine hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as the pleasure surged through him. His heart began to race, the soft beats now quickened with a mix of surprise and something more intense—desire, perhaps.
Lindir slowly turned to face you, his movements hesitant at first, as if he couldn’t quite reconcile the intimacy of the moment with the shock it had caused. His eyes were wide, filled with a quiet awe, and he reached out, his hands trembling slightly as they sought out your touch. His breath was shallow, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to calm the fluttering in his heart.
His Elven ears, usually so attuned to every sound around him, were sensitive to the slightest change in temperature or touch, and now they were flushed a deep shade of red. He could feel the heat spreading to his cheeks, his embarrassment evident in the way he quickly tried to hide his reaction. He turned toward you, nuzzling into the crook of your neck to bury his face from view, unable to fully suppress the blush that had bloomed across his face. His lips were still trembling from the shock of the kiss, and his heart seemed to thrum with the intensity of it all.
The feeling of your arms around him, the warmth of your touch, made him feel both exposed and adored, his vulnerability laid bare in that simple gesture. Despite the overwhelming sensations, there was a quiet joy in it too. The rush of intimacy, though unexpected, filled him with a sense of closeness to you that left him breathless in more ways than one.
“I didn’t expect that…” he whispered, his voice soft and filled with a mixture of surprise, affection, and the lingering effects of your touch. His heart was still racing, his chest rising and falling with a quickness that betrayed the effect you had on him. “You leave me speechless,” he added, his words laced with affection but also a note of shyness as he nuzzled deeper into your neck, trying to hide the redness in his face.
He was embarrassed by how his body had reacted—how his pulse had surged, how his skin had come alive under your touch. But there was also something in that moment that left him longing for more. The closeness, the tenderness, and the raw emotion made him feel more connected to you than ever before, and he wasn’t sure he could find the words to express just how much it meant to him.
Could I request Lindir comforting their s/o reader after their family sails but they stay because they don’t want to sail without Lindir? Your writing really amazes me, I enjoy every post!
Lindir comforting his S/O (you/reader) after your family sails to Valinor, while you stay because of your love for him
🎻𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓲𝓻
Lindir stood at a distance, his gaze soft but fixed, watching you from the edge of the gathering. The scene before him felt heavy, and though there was no audible sound of anguish, the silence around you both seemed to echo the unspoken weight of the moment. Your family was preparing to board the ships—the vessels that would carry them to Valinor, to the Undying Lands, to a life he could not offer you. The air was thick with the quiet hum of farewells, but Lindir saw none of the joy that others might have felt at such a grand departure. His heart was a quiet storm, full of confusion and sorrow, unsure whether to feel blessed or guilt-stricken. He watched you, his love, standing near the edge of the dock. Your posture was a mixture of grace and tension, the way you held yourself betraying the deep sorrow simmering just beneath your calm façade. Your eyes flicked from the ship to your family, your hands trembling slightly as you touched one of their cloaks, or perhaps just a fleeting touch of one of your loved ones. A soft smile here, a wave there, but it was clear to Lindir that the true ache—the real weight—was within you. And it tore at him.
Lindir’s heart clenched. He knew you loved them deeply. He had seen it in your eyes, heard it in your voice. The way your family had always been a part of you, your life intertwined with theirs in ways that were beyond even the greatest of songs. And yet, there you stood, silently making the impossible choice to stay behind. To remain with him. He could not help but feel the sting of guilt. How could he not? To him, it seemed such a high price, one that he wasn’t sure he deserved. You were a creature of light, so full of warmth and tenderness, deserving of all the joy your family could give you. And yet, as he watched you now, as the wind pulled at your hair and the glow of the setting sun painted the scene with an almost mournful beauty, he could not deny that you had made your choice. You had chosen him. And that knowledge was both a balm and a wound for Lindir’s heart.
He stood silently, his cloak fluttering gently in the wind, his hands clasped loosely before him as he watched the moment unfold. You had yet to speak, yet you did not need to. Lindir knew your thoughts as well as his own. There was a love between you that went beyond words, beyond the surface of things. Your decision to stay—it had been made long before the ships had ever arrived, even if neither of you had spoken of it aloud. As you shared one final embrace with your family, his heart ached, and he could see that yours did too, though you held it with such grace. He had always admired that about you, your ability to carry your pain with dignity. And yet, in this moment, that same dignity broke his heart. The conflict within him was palpable—he wanted to reach for you, to comfort you, but his own guilt tied his hands. How could he bring comfort to someone who had given up so much for him? How could he ease the weight of this sacrifice that he didn’t even want you to have to make?
The sun’s light dimmed with the passage of time, the ships now only a shadow against the horizon, and Lindir remained where he was. Silent, still, watching you. There was nothing to say. Not yet. You would leave them behind soon, and the silence between you both was thick with everything unspoken. Lindir felt his heart twist, both at the sorrow on your face and at the overwhelming love he had for you. He had no right to ask you to stay, and yet, you had. And now, he was bound to you in ways even the stars could not measure. He didn’t move. He simply stood, his soul aching for the weight you carried, knowing how much more you were giving up for him than he ever could have imagined.
The evening sky over Rivendell was alive with hues of soft pink and gold, painting the clouds in warm, fading light. The air was crisp, the breeze carrying with it the quiet sorrow of an ending, of farewells. On the cliffside, standing alone, you watched as the last ships carrying your family slowly disappeared over the horizon. The ache in your chest was unbearable, a quiet, persistent ache that seemed to pull at your very soul. The sea had taken them away, and you had stayed behind. You had chosen to stay, to remain here with Lindir, even though every part of you longed to be with your family. It was a sacrifice, a heavy one, and yet here you were, trying to keep your composure. You stood still, gazing at the spot where the ships had vanished, the darkening water mirroring the emptiness in your heart. The sound of the distant waves crashing against the rocks below seemed to mock the stillness that had settled in your chest. You tried to breathe through the sorrow, through the weight of your decision, but it felt as though the world had grown unbearably quiet, and every breath you took was a reminder of what you had lost.
From behind you, Lindir had been watching, though he had said nothing. He knew the depth of your love for your family, knew the pain of watching them sail away to the Undying Lands, and the guilt that must weigh on your heart for choosing to stay. He had felt it too—his heart ached for you, for your sorrow, and the sacrifice you had made. He hadn’t known how to approach you, how to comfort you when he could see the turmoil within you, when he could feel the strain of your quiet grief in the very air around you. His presence was a silent offering, an understanding of the space you needed, but his heart couldn’t bear the thought of you standing alone in your sadness. So, he had taken a quiet step forward, his footsteps soft on the earth, the gentle rustle of his cloak the only sound as he approached. He hadn’t wanted to disturb you, but now, standing behind you, watching the same empty horizon, his heart gave way to a soft, quiet ache. His gaze lingered on the curve of your shoulders, the way you held yourself so tightly, so delicately—like you were holding yourself together with sheer will alone. It was then that he could bear it no longer.
He moved closer, his voice soft, almost hesitant, but full of deep care as he spoke, “I know you love them…” His words hung in the air, thick with sorrow. His heart trembled as he stood beside you now, close enough to feel the weight of your quiet grief, but not so close as to intrude. He could see the tear in your soul, the wound that refused to heal, and it tore at him, knowing that he was part of the reason you had chosen this path. His heart broke for you, for the pain that you carried, and yet it swelled with a strange mixture of guilt and love, touched deeply by the devotion you had chosen to give him. “I know this is a heavy loss for you,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper, but the words were laden with meaning, with the truth of what you were enduring. His hand hovered near your shoulder, just above it for a moment, before he finally placed it gently there. “The path you’ve chosen… I do not take it lightly, my dear.” His voice faltered as he spoke, and for a moment, he feared that his own emotions would overwhelm him. Seeing you like this, feeling your quiet grief, knowing that he had become the reason you stayed behind, tore at him. He didn’t deserve your sacrifice, not when you loved your family so deeply, and yet…
He closed his eyes briefly, gathering himself, before he added, his voice trembling with a rawness he could no longer contain, “You are an extraordinary soul, and yet you carry this weight so quietly. But please, let me share it with you. Let me be here, to walk beside you.” His words lingered in the space between you, the vulnerability in his voice ringing out, echoing against the silence that had enveloped the two of you. He wanted nothing more than to ease your pain, to make you feel as though you hadn’t lost everything, even if the reality was that the ache would never fully fade. He could never replace what you had lost, but he would try his best to be there for you in every way that mattered. “I do not deserve such devotion,” Lindir added quietly, his voice a soft, pained admission, but it was spoken with such sincerity, it was impossible not to hear the depth of his feelings. “But I am deeply touched by it. You should not have to endure this alone. Let me hold you, love you through this sorrow.”
The last words were spoken so softly, with such tenderness, that they seemed to hang in the air, suspended by the quiet between you. He couldn’t bear the thought of you feeling as though you were alone in this moment. You had given him the greatest gift in your heart, and now he wanted to return that gift, to be the support you so desperately needed. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The only sounds that could be heard were the gentle rustle of the leaves in the wind and the distant crash of the waves against the rocks far below. Then, slowly, you turned toward him. Your eyes were soft, wet with the silent tears you hadn’t allowed to fall before. You didn’t speak at first, but the look in your eyes spoke volumes. It was the silent understanding between you both that no words could capture. The ache, the sorrow, the love. It was all there, and though you had chosen to stay for him, it was clear that a part of you would always long for the family you had left behind.
As you leaned into his touch, allowing yourself for just a moment to feel the comfort of his presence, you knew that though you had lost much, you still had him. And in that small, fragile moment, it was enough. Lindir’s eyes softened as he watched you, his heart aching at the quiet sorrow that lingered around you. The weight of your choice was clear, though you bore it with such quiet dignity. He could see it in the way your shoulders trembled ever so slightly, in the way you had clenched your hands to your sides, as if trying to hold onto something that was slipping away. The ships had long since disappeared from sight, taking your family with them, and now there was nothing but the lingering silence and the stillness of the evening. He couldn’t bear to see you carry that sorrow alone any longer. His steps were silent as he moved toward you, his heart calling him to bridge the distance. Without a word, he reached out, his fingers gently brushing the tear that had slipped down your cheek, and his thumb moved tenderly across your skin, as if to erase the evidence of your quiet grief. He wanted so desperately to take away your pain, though he knew he could not. But there was something he could offer. Something more than silence. “You do not have to hide it,” Lindir’s voice was a whisper, filled with quiet tenderness. His words were meant only for you, for the pain he knew you would not speak aloud. He wanted you to know you didn’t have to carry this burden on your own, that he was here with you, in this moment. “Let me share this with you, let me be the one who carries this sorrow beside you.”
His words fell like a balm on your aching soul. You had been holding so much inside, trying to be strong in the face of a choice that tore at you. But now, as you leaned into his touch, you allowed yourself to let go, if only for a moment. You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his hand against your skin, the steadiness of his presence grounding you. The comfort in his words—simple and sincere—reached into the very heart of you. Though you had lost much today, there was still one thing that remained: Lindir. For all the pain you felt, you knew that in his arms, in his gaze, you would find a sense of peace, even if only for a fleeting second. It was enough. For now, it was enough. Lindir could feel the weight of your sorrow, the way your body seemed to sink toward him, as if you were allowing him to be your anchor in this sea of grief. His heart tightened at the thought, and without another word, he gently pulled you closer. His arms enveloped you, pulling you against him, holding you in a way that was meant to offer more than comfort—it was meant to remind you that you were not alone.
He didn’t need to say anything more; the embrace was enough. His hand moved to the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair, holding you close, as if to shield you from the weight of the world. His chin rested gently on the top of your head, his breath steady, though his heart ached in ways he could not express. In that embrace, he shared not just his warmth, but his promise. A promise to be there with you, to share in your pain, and to carry you through this moment of loss. He would not ask you to be strong for him; he would stand with you, and in that shared space of sorrow, they were no longer two hearts separated by grief—they were one. For the first time since your family had sailed, you allowed yourself to rest in his embrace, letting go of the burden, if only for a fleeting moment, knowing that with Lindir beside you, you could face whatever would come next.
Later on…same day
The night hung like a velvet curtain above Rivendell, a million stars twinkling in the vastness, each one a distant, silent witness to the quiet sorrow in your heart. You stood on the balcony of the shared bedchamber, gazing at the horizon where the ships carrying your family had just disappeared. The weight of your decision settled heavily on your chest, and despite your love for Lindir, the ache of parting from your kin left a deep, unfillable void inside you. Lindir’s footsteps were soft against the stone, barely audible as he approached. He didn’t speak immediately, understanding that you needed space to feel your grief, but his heart ached for you, knowing how heavy your sacrifice was. Without a word, he moved behind you, his arms slipping around your waist in an embrace so familiar, yet so comforting. The warmth of his presence seeped into you, offering a balm for the chill of the night air and the colder ache that filled your soul. His arms around you felt like a quiet anchor, and in that moment, though the emptiness in your heart remained, you were no longer standing alone.
His chin rested gently on your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin as he spoke in a soft, almost reverent whisper. “Let the stars be your guide, my love,” Lindir murmured, his lips brushing lightly against your ear. The tenderness in his voice was both soothing and heartbreaking, as if he, too, could feel the weight of your heart. “The sea may have claimed your family, but my heart remains yours. I can never replace them, but I will give you all that I am.” You felt a tear slip down your cheek, and you turned your face slightly to nuzzle into the warmth of his touch, not needing to speak the sorrow that words could not capture. Lindir’s hand moved to your shoulder, gently guiding you closer, his chest resting against your back. His embrace tightened, as if he wanted to pull you into himself completely, shielding you from the grief that lingered like a shadow in your heart. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of your neck, the delicate touch of his lips grounding you further in the warmth of his affection. His breath was steady and calm against your skin, offering you a stillness that you didn’t realize you craved.
Then, in the quiet of the night, his voice dropped even lower, a soft lilting murmur that carried through the silence of the air. His words were for you and you alone, woven with the gentle affection of a love that was deep and unwavering. “Like the river that flows through the quiet earth, my love for you is constant, even in the silence of sorrow. And like the stars that shine, no matter how far they seem, I will be your constant light, forever guiding you through the dark.” You closed your eyes as his words wrapped around you, their meaning sinking into the very core of your being. His embrace held you even closer now, and you could feel the rhythmic beat of his heart against your back, steady and reassuring. The sorrow in your chest seemed to lessen with every word he spoke, as if his love was the very force that soothed your grief. “Your heart, my love, is more precious than the ocean’s deep, and in my arms, you will always find shelter. I would sail the farthest seas, across mountains and skies, to be by your side, for you are my heart’s true home.”
Lindir’s lips pressed yet another kiss, this time on your shoulder, a promise in the touch. He was speaking from the depths of his soul, and though the loss you felt would never entirely fade, you could feel the weight of it lift just a little with every tender word he whispered. You leaned into him, the pain of the past moments softened by the comfort of his love, and for a fleeting instant, you didn’t feel so alone. The tension in your chest began to ease, and you felt the weight of your grief slowly dissipate, replaced by the steady, soothing presence of Lindir. You could feel his love surrounding you, pulling you from the depths of your sorrow, his heart beating in rhythm with yours. His voice became a soft lullaby, steadying your breath and offering you a comfort that words alone could not capture. “Do not fear the distance, my dearest,” he murmured, his lips pressing softly against your skin once more. “You have my love, and that, my beloved, will never leave you. Not even the stars could dim it.” You let out a soft sigh, turning slightly in his arms, your face softening as you gazed up at him. His eyes, filled with so much love and tenderness, met yours, and for a moment, the weight of the world seemed to fall away. Lindir’s love was a beacon, a light in the darkness, and with him, you knew you could face anything.
You couldn’t help but smile—a small, tender curve of your lips. Lindir, with all his deep affection and poetic words, was still so endearing in his own way. His gentle, serious demeanor only made the teasing moments that much more precious. In the quiet comfort of his embrace, the warmth of his presence wrapped around you, and for a moment, you felt lighter, as if the weight of your grief had shifted. The sadness was still there, lurking in the background, but Lindir’s love made it bearable. With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you leaned up slightly and pinched his cheek, the action playful yet filled with all the love you felt for him. Your voice was soft but teasing, “I love you so much, you know that? You big dork,” you whispered, the words full of affection, as though you were savoring each one. Lindir’s eyes widened for a brief second, as though the surprise of your words caught him off guard. Then, the softest blush crept up his neck, coloring his fair skin a gentle shade of rose. His expression softened into an utterly endearing mix of embarrassment and fondness, his eyes glinting with a playful warmth as he realized what you’d done. He chuckled, and you could see the way his chest relaxed as he gave you a shy, sheepish smile—one that made him look impossibly handsome, even more so than usual.
His hands gently cupped your face in return, his fingers tracing your jawline tenderly, as if he couldn’t quite believe how lucky he was. His lips brushed your forehead in a sweet kiss, the touch soft and intimate. “And I love you, my dearest,” he murmured, the words sincere and heavy with affection, his voice so rich that it sent a warmth straight to your heart. You leaned into him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. The softness of his embrace, the tenderness in his gaze—it all washed over you like a wave of comfort. His love surrounded you like a cocoon, and you knew, in that moment, that no matter the distance between you and the past, Lindir would always be there. His love would always guide you through the dark, always be your light. The stars above twinkled more brightly now, their faint light reflecting the soft glow of your shared moment. In the silence of the night, with Lindir’s arms around you, it felt like everything might just be okay. No matter what came, you would always have him. And that thought made your heart flutter—more than the stars in the sky ever could.
The soft glow of candlelight flickered in the room as you and Lindir stepped inside from the cool night air, the door gently closing behind you. The quiet of the chambers was a welcome respite from the world outside, and as the warmth of the room enveloped you both, the heaviness in your heart seemed to lift just a little more. Lindir, ever considerate, glanced at you with a soft, reassuring smile, his eyes filled with unspoken affection. “Let me help you, my love,” he murmured, his voice gentle, as he moved to your side. You hadn’t spoken much on the walk back inside, but you felt his presence beside you, steady and comforting. It was as if everything that had been left unsaid hung in the air, but it didn’t feel necessary to voice it—he understood, and you understood him in return. You nodded, grateful for the quiet intimacy of the moment. “Thank you, Lindir,” you said, your voice soft, the fatigue of the day beginning to settle in your bones.
He smiled again, a slight twinkle of warmth in his eyes. The two of you had been through so much, and yet here, in the stillness of your shared space, it felt like everything was perfectly as it should be. Without another word, Lindir moved to help you remove the tunic you wore, his fingers brushing gently against your skin as he slid the fabric over your head, his touch soft and deliberate, as though he was careful not to disturb the peace between you. His hands were steady as he moved to unfasten the laces of your trousers, his motions slow and methodical. He was always so careful with you, and you couldn’t help but appreciate the tenderness with which he handled you. It was a subtle but significant gesture of his love, a silent promise that he would always be there to care for you in the smallest of ways.
As you stood before him, now only in your undergarments, you felt a moment of vulnerability. But it wasn’t the kind of vulnerability that left you exposed or unprotected. No, with Lindir, it was the kind of vulnerability that made you feel safe. His presence, his gentle gaze, and his touch all made you feel at ease, like you could let go of the burdens of the day without fear. Lindir, as if sensing your unspoken thoughts, gave you a soft smile, one that radiated warmth and reassurance. “You’re safe with me, always,” he whispered, his hands moving to slip a nightshirt over your head. The fabric, soft and light, settled over your shoulders like a second skin, and as he adjusted it, his fingers brushed lightly against your collarbone, the sensation sending a shiver of warmth through you.
Once you were dressed for bed, Lindir’s hands lingered on your waist for a moment longer than necessary, his touch a quiet expression of affection. He helped guide you toward the bed, where the blankets were already turned down, the sheets soft and inviting. You climbed into the bed first, and Lindir followed after, slipping in beside you. The moment you were both settled, he instinctively pulled you closer, his arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you into the warmth of his embrace. Your back rested against his chest, and you could feel the steady beat of his heart against your back, grounding you. His breath was warm on your neck, his presence a steady comfort that filled the space between you both. You sighed softly, content, as Lindir’s fingers gently traced circles on your arm, a soothing rhythm that made your eyelids grow heavy with drowsiness. “Thank you for being here,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
Lindir pressed a soft kiss to the back of your neck, his lips lingering for a moment before he whispered in return, his voice low and intimate. “There is nowhere else I would rather be than here, with you.” You could feel the sincerity in his words, the deep affection he held for you wrapped in each syllable. His arms tightened around you slightly, pulling you closer as if to remind you that he would always be there, through both the quiet nights and the stormy days. The room was quiet except for the soft rhythm of your breaths, a shared silence that spoke louder than words ever could. In Lindir’s embrace, the world outside seemed to vanish. There was only the steady comfort of his arms, the warmth of his body against yours, and the promise of love that would never waver, no matter how far the sea stretched or how dark the night seemed. You closed your eyes, sinking into the comfort of his touch, feeling the weight of the day fall away. And as sleep began to claim you, the last thought in your mind was that you were exactly where you were meant to be—here, with Lindir.
Your work is so beautiful. How would Lindir confess his love to an elf reader?
Thank you for all your wonderful works 🩷
Thank you so much for your kind words! I’m so glad you enjoyed my writing. 🥹❤️🔥✨ It means a lot to hear that. Below, I’ve shared a piece where Lindir confesses his feelings to an elf reader what you requested. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it
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Lindir Version below
🎻𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓲𝓻
The golden glow of the setting sun bathed Rivendell’s serene gardens in warm hues, casting long shadows across the vibrant flowers and ancient stone pathways. The air was cool, carrying the faint scent of blooming lilacs and the fresh, earthy scent of the forest. A peaceful quiet enveloped the garden, save for the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze, the gentle hum of nature’s life all around. The atmosphere was calming, almost sacred, and there, on one of the stone benches nestled between the towering trees, you sat. Perhaps you were lost in the pages of a book, or simply absorbing the tranquility of the moment, each breath deep and steady. Lindir, however, was not in the garden’s peaceful embrace; he had been tending to a few duties inside Rivendell’s hall, his mind occupied with menial tasks, though it was a struggle to stay focused. His thoughts kept drifting back to you. Every time he tried to concentrate, an image of your face would linger in his mind. The warmth of your smile, the sound of your voice, the grace in the way you moved—it had all taken root in his heart without him ever intending it. Now, as the afternoon wore on and his responsibilities faded, the weight of his feelings for you had become too much to bear. His longing had grown too great. He had spent days trying to suppress it, pretending it was just admiration, just a fleeting affection. But now, in this moment, as the soft golden light kissed the earth, he knew the truth. He had to tell you.
The gravel path crunched softly under his boots as Lindir approached the garden, his steps light but deliberate. He had always been an elf of quiet grace, his movements fluid and reserved, yet now, they were hesitant—each step a small battle against the rising tide of his emotions. His heart beat faster than usual, the rhythm erratic and heavy in his chest, echoing in his ears. The air seemed too thick around him, each breath harder to draw as he inched closer. He was so close now, so close to what he had feared and longed for in equal measure—expressing the feelings that had made his thoughts spin, and his heart race. As he drew nearer, you remained unaware of his presence, engrossed in your own thoughts, unaware of the change in the atmosphere. Lindir’s eyes lingered on you, tracing the soft lines of your face, the gentle curve of your form, as though trying to memorize every detail. His throat tightened. He could see the quiet peace that surrounded you, the effortless beauty of your being, and it only made his resolve waver.
He stopped, just a few paces away from you, feeling a sharp, almost painful awareness of the distance between you. His fingers twitched by his sides, unsure of what to do with his nervous energy. He wanted to reach out, to take your hand, to somehow close the space between you, but fear held him still, rooting him to the ground. His breath was shallow, caught in his chest as he watched you, as the seconds stretched on in quiet agony. Finally, he summoned the courage to speak, his voice breaking the stillness. It was quiet, fragile—like a leaf trembling in a storm. The words came slower than he wished, but there was no turning back. “Y/N” he called, his voice barely more than a whisper on the wind. His throat constricted as he said your name, the sound of it trembling in his mouth. There was a hint of hesitation there, as if even the mere act of speaking to you brought with it a weight he wasn’t sure he could bear. He cleared his throat gently, an attempt to steady himself, but it did little to quell the racing of his pulse. His cheeks, usually calm and composed, were flushed a soft, warm pink, betraying his nervousness. His face, which often remained stoic and distant, was now painted with a vulnerability that he rarely allowed anyone to see. His hand moved slightly, as though unsure whether it should be by his side or lifted to touch you, to express the turmoil that twisted inside him. “May I… have a moment?” The words were simple, and yet, they felt monumental. His voice was quiet, almost trembling, carrying a weight of emotion that he had not intended to reveal. He had rehearsed this moment in his mind countless times, but now, standing in front of you, those rehearsed words seemed to fall short. Still, the sincerity behind them was clear.
For a brief moment, he remained there, standing just beyond your gaze, his eyes fixed on you. There was a quiet yearning in them—a silent plea to be understood, to have you see the storm raging within him. His words held a vulnerability he wasn’t used to displaying, but the need to speak his truth—to finally confess the feelings he had buried for so long—overcame every ounce of his reticence. His heart raced, and in the stillness of the evening, all he could do was wait—wait for your response, for your reaction. His hands trembled slightly, but he forced himself to remain calm, standing there, at the precipice of something he was not sure he could fully grasp. And now, the world held its breath, as Lindir waited for your eyes to meet his, unsure if this was the moment he had been waiting for, or the moment everything might change forever. You look up from your book, startled by the sound of your name, and your gaze meets his. The softness of his voice catches your attention, and you notice the slight flush on his cheeks—an unfamiliar vulnerability in his usually composed demeanor. A gentle smile tugs at your lips, and you gesture to the empty space beside you on the bench. “Of course, Lindir,” you reply, your voice calm and inviting. “What’s on your mind?” You don’t need to ask more; the quiet sincerity in his eyes speaks volumes. There’s a moment of silence as you both feel the weight of what’s unsaid between you, and the garden, now bathed in golden light, seems to hold its breath in anticipation encouraging him to speak.
Lindir hesitates, a quiet wave of uncertainty sweeping over him. His hands shift nervously, the fabric of his tunic creasing under his fingers as he grips it tighter, as if needing something to hold onto. His usual posture—graceful, confident—feels smaller now, as if the weight of his emotions is bending him, pulling at him in ways he has never known before. There is a slight tremor in his movements, and he stands a little straighter, attempting to gain some composure, but the underlying tension is palpable, an unfamiliar vulnerability lingering in the air between you. For a long moment, he says nothing, as though struggling to find the right words that have long been trapped inside him. The world around you seems to pause, the soft rustle of the leaves and the distant trickle of the fountain becoming mere background noise to the symphony of his quiet turmoil. He is used to maintaining control, to managing the myriad of tasks and responsibilities that come with his role in Rivendell, but this? This is different. He finally opens his mouth to speak, but the words catch in his throat. His voice falters, and he immediately clears it, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink from embarrassment at his own hesitation. He shifts his weight, casting a glance downward, as though the earth beneath his feet could offer him comfort or guidance. His eyes drift over the surrounding flowers, their delicate petals swaying gently in the evening breeze, offering no answers, yet somehow adding to the weight of his silence.
“I—” he starts again, his voice breaking slightly before he tries to steady himself. “I do not quite know how to begin.” His words are quiet, his tone laden with hesitation, yet the sincerity beneath them is unmistakable. He lets out a soft, almost inaudible sigh, and when he raises his gaze to meet yours, the vulnerability in his eyes is undeniable. His usual composure is shattered, replaced with a raw honesty that fills the air between you. “I… have struggled with this for some time now,” he continues, his voice barely above a whisper. “I have tried to push it away, to pretend that it was not there, but each day it grows stronger, and I… I cannot deny it any longer.” He pauses, his breath catching slightly, and for a fleeting moment, he looks as though he might retreat, that perhaps the weight of his emotions will be too much to bear. But then, he stands taller, summoning the courage to speak the truth he has long kept hidden.
“I have… grown to care for you in a way I never expected. In a way I did not allow myself to expect,” he says, his words trembling with the depth of his confession. His eyes soften, and the longing in them is unmistakable. “It is… not easy for me to say this, Y/N I have spent so many quiet moments with you—watching, listening, and yet never daring to truly acknowledge what I feel. But I cannot keep pretending anymore. I…” He swallows, his chest tightening with emotion, his words almost lost to the weight of his affection. “I care for you, deeply. More than I ever thought possible.” There’s a long, painful silence between you, one that is thick with the unspoken truth. His words hang in the air, a tender confession wrapped in the warmth of his heart. Lindir stands before you, his hands now trembling slightly at his sides, but his gaze never leaves yours. It is as if he is waiting for your reaction, but even more so, he seems to be grappling with his own vulnerability, exposed in a way he never has been before. “I…” He falters again, his breath shallow. His voice is barely audible, yet it carries the weight of everything he has kept locked away for so long. “I love you, Y/N. I cannot keep this inside any longer. It is a truth that has been growing within me, slowly, and now I cannot imagine my life without you in it. You are with me in every moment—whether we speak or not, whether you are near or far. I find myself thinking of you even when I do not wish to, and every time I see you, it feels as though my heart finds its place again.” He takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with the intensity of his emotions. “I love you, more than I can express, more than my words can carry. And perhaps this is foolish of me to say, but I cannot keep pretending otherwise. You have become a part of me.”
Lindir’s eyes, always so careful and reserved, now shine with an openness that is both raw and beautiful. The silence between you is no longer heavy with uncertainty but filled with the weight of his confession. “I do not ask for anything in return,” he says softly, his voice tender, almost fragile in its honesty. “I only wanted you to know this truth—one I can no longer hold within me. I love you, with all that I am. And though I fear the possibility of your rejection, I must speak this, for you have become everything to me.” He exhales softly, the tension in his form melting into something more vulnerable, more honest. And as his words linger in the air, the world around you seems to pause once again, the fading light of the sun casting a warm glow on the two of you—caught in this moment, where words no longer need to speak, and only the truth of his heart remains. Lindir stands before you, utterly still, his entire body tense, as if awaiting the inevitable judgment of his soul’s most vulnerable confession. His hands, which are usually steady and certain in their tasks, now tremble slightly at his sides, betraying the storm of emotions raging within him. He feels the thrum of his heart pounding in his chest, so loud that it drowns out everything else—his thoughts, the soft rustle of leaves in the garden, the distant sounds of Rivendell. The air between you seems to hum with the weight of his words, like the breath before a storm.
His usual composure has crumbled, leaving him bare and exposed. The serene, gentle elf you know has momentarily faded, replaced by a version of Lindir you rarely see—raw, unguarded, and completely at the mercy of his emotions. His lips part as though he might say something else, something to lessen the tension, but no words come. Instead, there is only silence, thick and heavy with the uncertainty of what might happen next. His gaze is locked onto you, but it’s not the usual steady gaze—it flickers with a nervous, almost desperate edge. His eyes search your face for any sign, any hint of what you might be thinking. But all he sees is the calm expression you wear, and that only makes his anxiety rise higher. His heart lurches with doubt, twisting inside him, and for a fleeting moment, he wonders if he has made a mistake—if his confession, so clumsy and exposed, will drive you away instead of bringing you closer. He had imagined so many different outcomes to this moment, but never had he thought of how vulnerable it would leave him, how naked his heart would feel as he stood here, waiting. The soft blush on his cheeks deepens as he swallows, and he feels the burn of embarrassment spreading through him, the heat of it crawling up to his ears. His stomach turns in tight knots, and the air feels heavier with each passing second. He wishes, not for the first time, that he could simply retreat, disappear into the quiet corners of Rivendell where no one could see him, where he wouldn’t have to face the rawness of this moment. But his feet refuse to move, and his gaze remains fixed on you, as if anchored there by something far deeper than the nerves plaguing him now. But then—just as the suffocating silence threatens to overwhelm him—he notices it. The soft curve of your lips, the warmth in your eyes, the reassuring calmness in the way you look at him. It’s not a rush of overwhelming emotion, but something gentler, something more understanding, as if you are seeing him for who he truly is in this moment—not the composed, quiet elf, but the one who has laid his heart bare.
His breath catches, and for a brief, infinite moment, his fears falter. The anxious flutter in his chest doesn’t fade, but it lessens just enough to allow a flicker of hope to break through. He waits for you to speak, to let him know whether his confession will shatter or find its place in the quiet spaces between you. But as you sit there, eyes locked on his, your expression unreadable for the moment, time seems to stretch on. It’s as though the very air around you holds its breath, waiting for you to break the silence. The uncertainty twists inside him once more, pulling at his resolve. His body tenses, as though he might collapse under the weight of what is to come. His heart races again, a frantic drumbeat in his chest, and he waits—anxious, vulnerable, and trembling as the moment stretches on, each second more torturous than the last. Will his feelings be met with kindness? Will his truth be received with the same care he has put into it? Or will this be the moment that changes everything, in ways he cannot yet comprehend? All he can do is wait, the silence hanging between you like a fragile thread, waiting to snap or strengthen with your answer.
Two versions below return and reject (you can pick which ever one you like)
(first one you return feelings)
You sit there, the weight of the moment settling heavily between you both, the world around you feeling strangely suspended, as if time itself has paused to witness this delicate confession. Lindir’s words still linger in the air, the vulnerability in his voice raw, yet imbued with a quiet courage that touches something deep inside of you. His gaze is fixed on you, his eyes wide with a mixture of hope and uncertainty, as if he’s waiting for you to make sense of what he has so fearfully and courageously shared. It’s almost as though every breath he takes, every beat of his heart, depends on the answer you’ll give. The fragile hope in his eyes is almost too much for him to bear, and you can feel the tenderness of that moment, how it rests on the precipice of something life-altering. Your heart tightens as you realize that this is one of those rare, precious intersections where truth and emotion meet—where love, once whispered in the corners of your soul, now begs to be spoken aloud. You can no longer hold it back. You take a breath, steadying yourself, and meet his gaze fully, letting the warmth of your feelings pour into your words.
“Lindir,” you begin, your voice soft but sure, “I… I don’t know how to say this, but I do care for you. More than you could ever know.” The words feel right, like a long-forgotten truth finding its place. Your heart pounds in your chest, and yet, despite the sudden rush of emotion, there’s a wave of relief that washes over you, soothing the nervous tension that had built. As you speak, you watch his expression shift, ever so slightly, his eyes flickering with the faintest spark of hope, like the first hint of dawn after a long, uncertain night. “I do love you, Lindir. I’ve loved you for a long time, in my own quiet way.” His breath catches at your words, and for a moment, his entire body seems to freeze. His wide eyes lock with yours, as though he cannot quite comprehend the meaning of what you’ve said, as though he is hearing the most unbelievable of truths. The air between you both hums with a palpable energy, a silent current of emotion that connects you both in a way that words alone never could. Lindir stands motionless, processing the weight of your confession, the possibility of your love so surreal to him that it seems beyond reach.
And then, his face transforms. The guarded uncertainty in his eyes melts away, and a pure, unrestrained joy fills his expression, softening the sharp angles of his features into something tender. His lips part, and the barest of smiles emerges, like a delicate blossom opening to the light. “You… you truly feel the same?” he asks, his voice a whisper, as though he’s testing the very reality of your words, afraid they might dissolve if he speaks too soon. The incredulity in his voice is palpable, and his cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red, as if the warmth of your words has overwhelmed him. His hands tremble slightly at his sides, fingers curling in uncertainty as he contemplates whether it’s safe to reach for you, whether the joy blooming in his chest can truly be allowed to blossom. You smile, a soft, knowing expression that reaches your eyes, and nod gently. Your heart flutters in your chest as you watch his face light up with that same mixture of disbelief and joy. “I do,” you confirm, your voice barely above a whisper but full of warmth, and with that, you can see the relief flood his face, as though a burden he didn’t even realize he was carrying has suddenly been lifted from his shoulders. His whole body seems to relax, the tension he had held so tightly dissipating, leaving only the quiet peace of understanding between you both.
A soft, breathless laugh escapes him, full of wonder, and it seems as though the very sound of it is a release—his heart, once tight with worry and uncertainty, now soaring with joy. He takes a step closer, his movements slow and deliberate, as if savoring the moment, unwilling to rush it, to risk losing the magic of it all. His hesitation lingers, his body language still cautious, but the warmth in his gaze is undeniable as he steps forward. He reaches out toward you, his hand trembling slightly, as if unsure whether to make the first move, whether this new reality is truly within his grasp. His fingers brush against yours, the touch light and tentative, yet filled with a depth of meaning—like the very touch carries the weight of everything he has longed for, everything he has quietly hoped for but feared he could never have.
“I… I promise to be everything you deserve,” he murmurs, his voice low, rich with emotion, and it sends a shiver through you. “I will love you, honor you, care for you with everything I am.” His words, soft and sincere, hold a promise that resonates deeply within you, a vow spoken from the very depths of his heart, a promise to always be there, to always cherish what you share. Lindir, ever shy and reserved, leans in ever so slightly, his movements delicate, like someone testing the waters of this newfound connection. His lips brush against your hand, a kiss soft and reverent, a simple, almost sacred act that carries with it more meaning than any grand declaration could. The kiss is gentle—no fire, no explosion—but it speaks volumes. It is a kiss of tenderness, of affection, of a love that has grown quietly but steadily between you both, until it finally found the courage to bloom.
In that moment, everything seems to fall into place, the tension that had gripped your hearts easing, leaving behind a quiet sense of peace and belonging. His breath steadies, and as he gazes at you, his eyes are filled with warmth, the kind of warmth that only love can bring—a quiet joy that fills the spaces between your words and the unspoken things still lingering in the air. With you, Lindir knows that he no longer has to fear the future, that he can finally open his heart to you, fully and without reservation. He is no longer the hesitant, uncertain man who once hid his feelings away—he is now the man who stands before you, whole and complete, ready to share his love without fear. “I will always be here,” he whispers, his voice barely audible but carrying a weight of promise that settles deep within you. “With you, I’ve found a peace I never knew I could have.”
As he stands before you, hand still clasped in yours, the world feels as though it has shifted into perfect alignment. The garden around you is alive with a new vibrancy, as though it, too, has breathed a sigh of relief, sensing the harmony between you both. Lindir, once filled with anxiety and doubt, now stands before you with a heart full of love, ready to offer it to you without fear. In this moment, you realize that together, you can face whatever comes. Whatever storms or uncertainties may lie ahead, this love—tender, sincere, and full of quiet devotion—is more than enough to carry you through, and it will always be enough, because this love is everything you both need.
(Second one you reject his feelings)
You sit there, the weight of the moment sinking in as Lindir’s words, soft but filled with an unmistakable sorrow, echo in your ears. The quiet air of the garden seems to hold its breath around you both, and in the stillness, the flickering hope in his eyes fades. His words are gentle, but they leave a cold emptiness behind them, a truth you wish you didn’t have to say. As Lindir begins to pull away, the space between you both growing wider, your heart tightens. His expression, once filled with warmth and vulnerability, has now shifted into something quieter, more distant—his hurt palpable even in his restraint. For a moment, you wish you could reach out to stop him, to say something that might ease his pain, but you know there’s nothing more to say. You take a breath, your voice trembling ever so slightly, but steady. “Lindir, I… I’m sorry,” you begin, your words heavy with regret, knowing how deeply they will cut. “I never wanted to hurt you, truly. You’re such a good person, and you’ve always been kind to me, but… my heart doesn’t… doesn’t feel the same way.” Your voice falters, the weight of your confession pressing down on you.
Lindir stands there for a moment, as still as the stone statues that adorn the gardens of Rivendell. His heart, which had once soared with hope, now sinks with the crushing weight of your words. The gentle confession of your feelings, though kind and sincere, pierces through him like a blade, and the warmth he had felt just moments ago vanishes, leaving only coldness in its wake. His face is pale now, the flush of nervousness replaced by the stark, muted pallor of quiet heartbreak. His hands, which had trembled with anticipation, now hang limply at his sides, fingers curled into tense fists. He wants to speak—wants to say something that might ease the ache in his chest—but the words feel too heavy, too inadequate. How could he make sense of the fact that the person he has silently adored for so long could never return his feelings?
The last thing you wanted was to cause him pain, and yet here you are, watching the life in his eyes dim. His sorrow mirrors your own, a reflection of the pain both of you feel in this moment. For a long moment, he simply listens to you, his gaze cast downward, unwilling to meet your eyes, afraid that seeing the sorrow in your expression will break him completely. Every syllable you speak deepens the ache in his heart. He had known, on some level, that this moment was always a possibility. But he had allowed himself to dream, to hope for something more. And now, those dreams shatter, leaving only a quiet sorrow in their place. You look up, your gaze meeting his, hoping he can see the regret in your eyes, even as your own heart aches for him. “I do care for you, Lindir,” you continue, your voice soft, “but it’s not the same. You deserve someone who can love you the way you deserve to be loved. I—I wish I could be that person, but I can’t be.” The words feel hollow as they leave your mouth, but they are the truth, the painful truth neither of you wanted to face. The silence between you thickens as he absorbs what you’ve said, and it feels like your heart is being torn in two. The space that was once full of the gentle hum of shared moments now feels impossibly vast.
Lindir doesn’t say anything for a moment, just stands there, his posture rigid, his expression unreadable. You can feel his gaze on you, and it burns—heavy with the pain of your rejection. You wish you could make this easier for him, for both of you. But you know that no matter how much you want to, you can’t change how you feel. “I—I’m so sorry,” you repeat, barely above a whisper. “You’re not alone in this. But I can’t give you what you want from me.” His quiet acceptance of your words, that faint but obvious hurt in his eyes, nearly shatters you. There’s nothing more to say, nothing you can do, and before you can stop it, the finality of your confession hangs in the air. “I… I understand,” he finally manages to say, his voice soft and strained. He doesn’t look up as he speaks—he can’t. It’s too much. His breath catches in his throat, and his chest tightens with a grief he hadn’t anticipated. It’s the kind of grief that makes him wish he could disappear, to retreat from the reality that’s crashing down around him. But he doesn’t. He stands there, still, holding himself together with the last bit of dignity he has left.
The smile he offers you now, though it’s still soft, is a shadow of the one he had worn before—tinged with sorrow, tinged with the acceptance of a love unreturned. His words come in a whisper, barely audible, “I understand, Y/N. I will respect your wishes.” There’s an almost imperceptible crack in his voice, the softest of tremors. But then, just as quickly, his composure returns, the layers of his dignity protecting him from further exposure. “I wish you happiness too,” he adds quietly. “Always.” He wants to say more, to tell you that it’s all right, that he’ll accept this, that he will always respect your wishes. But the words catch in his throat, trapped behind the overwhelming weight of his emotions. Instead, he just nods silently, his lips pressing together in a thin line. He doesn’t want to seem weak—not in front of you, not in front of the one person who has unknowingly stolen his heart. But inside, the cracks are widening, and he can feel the fissures of his heart breaking apart. The silence between you both is deafening. The garden, once a place of serenity, now feels like a hollow echo of what could have been. Lindir takes a step back, the movement slow, deliberate, as if giving space to the grief that now fills the gap between you. He can’t bear to look at you any longer, though his heart aches with the desire to, with the hope that somehow you might change your mind, that your words had been said with hesitation or regret.
But you don’t. And so he turns, his back to you now, his steps light and measured as he retreats into the garden. His mind races, but it’s clouded by the sting of rejection. He wonders if he will ever be able to look at you the same way again, if he’ll ever be able to stand in the same room with you without feeling this unbearable ache. As his figure grows smaller in the distance, there’s a quiet sorrow that lingers in the air, as though even the garden feels the absence of what could have been. Lindir doesn’t look back—not because he doesn’t want to, but because he fears if he does, the last thread of his composure might snap. Instead, he continues his slow, measured steps away from you, each one heavy with the weight of an unspoken goodbye. And as he disappears into the depths of the garden, the silence that follows is the loudest sound he’s ever heard.
