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@wildyforestflower
I haven’t seen anyone make Queen Narissa twst oc before, so I thought I’d give it a try! 💜💙 It was really fun bringing Narissa to life. Do you think I should make him a professor or a student?
Make him a student or professor?
Professor?
Student?
I haven’t made it official got no name for him yet but made frollo horse snowball so can be with rollo in twisted wonderland cuz he needs his side kick! 🥰
Thought I do a little Cheese Valentine's pick-up lines. HAPPY VALENTINES DAY EVERYONE ❤️
Featuring characters: Gil Galad, Celebrimbor, Thranduil, Elrond, Glorfindel, Haldir, Lindir.
Gil-Galad:
"I may be High King of the Noldor, but you're the only ruler of my heart."
"Some seek the Undying Lands for peace, but I have already found mine in your embrace.
"My love for you is like the white towers of Lindon-strong, unshakable, and built to last forever."
I may wield Aeglos in battle, but you've already pierced my heart."
"I rule over Lindon, but I'd rather rule over your heart."
"Are you Lembas bread? Because one moment with you keeps me sustained for a lifetime."
"Like the shores of Lindon, my love for you is vast, unyielding, and forever calling you home."
"I am the High King of the Noldor, but next to you, I am merely a fool in love.”
Thranduil:
"You are the only jewel I desire."
"You have my heart-guard it better than I guard my borders."
"You have bewitched me-whether by spell or by smile, I know not. But I do know I do not wish to be free of it."
"I do not easily give my heart, but for you, I would open the gates of my kingdom... and perhaps even my wine cellar."
"You must be a white gem of starlight, for I have searched for you for centuries... and now, you are mine."
"I do not often share my Dorwinion wine... but for you, I might just consider it. A sip, mind you —let us not be reckless."
Elrond:
"Are you an Elven relic? Because I'd guard you for all eternity."
"If love were a council, my decision would already be made—you."
"Not even the wisdom of the ages could prepare me for falling for you."
"You must be the One Ring, because I'm drawn to you, completely powerless to resist your pull."
"I have foreseen many futures, meleth nín, and in all of them, I am happiest by your side."
"Even the grandest halls of Rivendell pale in comparison to the beauty of your smile."
Celebrimbor:
“I may be a smith, but you’ve forged your way into my heart.”
“I may be a master craftsman, but even I cannot create anything as perfect as you.”
“Even if Sauron himself offered me dominion over Middle-earth, I’d still choose a quiet evening by the forge with you.”
“Are you an Elven forge? Because every time I’m near you, my heart melts like silver in the fire.”
“If I could craft the perfect gift for you, it would be a crown—because you already rule my heart.”
Glorfindel:
“Are you from Valinor? Because every time I look at you, I feel like I’ve stepped into paradise.”
“Are you Lembas? Because one taste of your love, and I know I could live off it forever.”
“Are you the Last Homely House? Because I feel at home with you.”
“If love were a sword, I’d wield it for you alone.”
“I may have fought a Balrog, but falling for you? Now that was truly dangerous.”
“I may have been sent back from the Halls of Mandos, but without you, my heart would never truly live again.”
Haldir:
“My bow is steady, but my heart wavers at the sight of you.”
“For you, I would lower my guard… but only for a moment.”
“Like the borders of Lothlórien, my heart is well-guarded… but for you, I would lower my defenses.”
“The stars above Caras Galadhon shine bright, but none so brightly as the light you bring to my world.”
“I have sworn to protect Lothlórien… but my new duty seems to be guarding my heart from falling for you.”
“I may be cautious with strangers, but with you, meleth nín, I would risk stepping beyond the borders.”
Lindir:
“Even the music of Rivendell pales beside your voice.”
“I would sing of your beauty, but no song could do it justice.”
“If love were a song, then surely you are the melody that lingers in my mind long after the music has ended.”
“I am meticulous in all things, yet somehow, I find myself hopelessly unprepared for the effect you have on me.”
loving you is foolishness, then I fear I am as reckless as a certain company of dwarves in Rivendell.”
“You are like the finest Elven wine—rare, enchanting, and far too intoxicating for me to handle with dignity.”
What I think their scent, favorite food, dessert, flower, drink, color, season, animal, guilty pleasure, and spiritual animal.
Headcanons: Gil Galad, Celebrimbor, Thranduil, Elrond, Glorfindel, Haldir, Lindir.
Gil~Galad
Scent: He carries the scent of crisp winter air, mingling with the earthy fragrance of ancient wood and the salty tang of the sea. It evokes both the distant chill of the north and the ageless spirit of the Elves, an aura of ancient wisdom and strength.
Favorite Food: He relishes venison roasted over an open fire, a meal that carries with it the essence of the wilds—earthy, smoky, and fit for a king. It is simple yet refined, representing his balance of strength and nobility.
Favorite Dessert: Golden honey cakes, their sweetness balanced with a hint of spice, reflect his deep connection to both the earth and the Elven love for rich, delicate flavors. A treat as elegant and timeless as his reign.
Favorite Flower: White lilies hold a special place in his heart—delicate and pure, they symbolize nobility and purity, embodying the essence of Elven grace and the lasting legacy of the Noldor.
Favorite Drink: He enjoys rich, aged wine from the vineyards of Lindon, its complexity and depth echoing the long history of the Elves. Each sip carries the taste of Elven craftsmanship and the timeless beauty of the land he rules.
Favorite Color: Silver is his chosen hue, the color of stars, regal power, and the quiet nobility of the Elves. It speaks to his high status, his timeless wisdom, and the quiet serenity of his rule.
Favorite Season: Autumn is his favorite season, when the world feels as if it is in a moment of stillness. The changing leaves and the crisp air reflect his deep connection to the passage of time and his quiet contemplation of Middle-earth’s ever-turning cycles.
Favorite Animal: The peacock, with its dazzling plumage, resonates with his sense of majesty, grace, and regal presence. It is an animal that, though rare and striking, moves with a quiet confidence that mirrors Gil-galad’s own commanding yet composed nature.
Guilty Pleasure: Though he is bound by duty, Gil-galad secretly finds solace in spending time in the serene gardens of Lindon, away from his royal responsibilities. In these private moments, he reconnects with the peaceful rhythms of nature, something his kingship often denies him.
Spiritual Animal: The falcon, noble and ever-watchful, is his spiritual animal. Its ability to soar high above, to see the world with clarity and precision, mirrors his own role as a leader who sees both the grand picture and the details of his realm from above, with calm detachment and vigilant responsibility.
Celebrimbor
Scent: Celebrimbor carries the scent of oak—earthy and grounded—mixed with the metallic tang of the forge. His aroma evokes the intimacy of creation, the warmth of a forge at dusk, where the heat of the fire and the coolness of twilight meet.
Favorite Food: He favors Elven bread, soft and light, often paired with honey and fresh fruit. The simplicity of this food, with its sweetness and delicate flavors, mirrors his appreciation for craftsmanship—refined, yet never overwhelming.
Favorite Dessert: A dish of caramelized figs, warm and fragrant, spiced with a touch of cinnamon. It combines both sweetness and spice, much like his own character—delicate but capable of surprising depth.
Favorite Flower: The Silverleaf, with its delicate and intricate petals, symbolizes the blend of beauty and precision that Celebrimbor values in both his work and the world around him. Its silvery hue reflects his affinity for elegance and refinement.
Favorite Drink: He enjoys a herbal brew that clears the mind, typically something light and refreshing, with notes of mint and thyme. It helps him focus and think clearly, providing clarity before diving into his complex creations.
Favorite Color: Silver, the color of his craft. It shines with a quiet brilliance, much like his work in metal and stone. The reflective hue represents purity, sophistication, and the noble nature of his creations.
Favorite Season: Spring is Celebrimbor’s favorite season, symbolizing the creative renewal of life. Much like the budding flowers and fresh air of spring, it fuels his desire to create, constantly renewing his passion for innovation and artistry.
Favorite Animal: The owl, a creature known for its wisdom and keen observation, mirrors Celebrimbor’s own insightful nature. His quiet, analytical demeanor and ability to perceive things others might miss makes him kin to this nocturnal hunter of knowledge.
Guilty Pleasure: Celebrimbor often loses himself in the designs of new weapons. It’s his secret indulgence—a moment when the pressures of leadership and duty melt away, and he’s consumed by the art of crafting something powerful and beautiful, just for the sake of it.
Spiritual Animal: The phoenix resonates deeply with him. Like the legendary bird, Celebrimbor is reborn from both creation and destruction. His passion for forging, as well as his struggle with Sauron’s betrayal, mirrors the cycle of rising from the ashes to create anew.
Thranduil
Scent: Thranduil carries the scent of pine and fresh dew on the forest floor, a fragrant reminder of his deep connection to Mirkwood’s ancient woods. It’s the smell of tranquility and timelessness, evoking a sense of quiet majesty.
Favorite Food: He enjoys forest mushrooms paired with wild game, a dish that reflects the wild, untamed beauty of his realm. The flavors are earthy and rich, as he appreciates the bounty the forest provides.
Favorite Dessert: Sweet berry tarts, their tangy and delicate flavors satisfy his refined taste for the finest things, while still feeling grounded in the natural sweetness of the world around him.
Favorite Flower: Thranduil favors snowdrops, the delicate flowers that bloom quietly in the coldest months. Their purity and elegance mirror his noble yet reserved nature, and they are a reminder of the strength hidden in quiet beauty.
Favorite Drink: Dorwinion wine is his drink of choice—rich, bold, and refined. The wine’s depth and complexity suit his long-lived nature and his taste for the finer things, reflecting his appreciation for both luxury and tradition.
Favorite Color: Emerald green reflects the vibrant, lush forests of Mirkwood. This deep, rich color symbolizes the strength, mystery, and endless depth of the natural world, mirroring his kingdom and his own regal presence.
Favorite Season: Autumn is his favored season, when the forest is bathed in warm hues of gold and red. It represents a time of change and beauty, much like his own life—a season of reflection and quiet power.
Favorite Animal: The white stag, elusive and proud, represents both grace and strength in the forest. It embodies his own leadership style—majestic, solitary, and deeply connected to the land he rules over.
Guilty Pleasure: Thranduil enjoys his own company more than most, relishing moments of solitude. In these rare moments, he reflects, indulges in his treasures, and experiences peace away from the pressures of his crown.
Spiritual Animal: The lion, powerful and majestic, mirrors his fierce authority and regal presence. Like the lion, Thranduil commands respect and exudes quiet confidence, his strength lying in his measured, controlled nature.
Elrond
Smell: Elrond carries the scent of fresh mountain air, carrying with it a hint of wild herbs and earthy parchment—a blend of nature’s tranquility and the wisdom of his many years.
Favorite Food: His favorite is a hearty stew, simple but satisfying—a meal that represents his practicality and deep connection to the land. It’s both nourishing and comforting, much like his presence in Rivendell.
Favorite Dessert: For something sweet, Elrond enjoys delicate almond cakes—soft and fragrant, with a subtle sweetness that mirrors his gentle yet firm leadership.
Favorite Flower: He favors lavender, its soothing scent and soft purple hue reflecting his calm, patient demeanor, and the peace he brings to his people.
Favorite Drink: A floral herbal tea brewed from the gardens of Rivendell is his drink of choice—light and fragrant, a symbol of his connection to the natural world and the healing qualities he offers.
Favorite Color: The color blue resonates most with Elrond, symbolizing wisdom, peace, and the quiet strength he exudes. It is the color of both the sky and the deep waters—reflective, calm, and enduring.
Favorite Season: Spring is Elrond’s favorite season—a time of renewal, when life begins anew and the world feels calm yet full of potential, much like his own eternal role in Rivendell.
Favorite Animal: The raven holds a special place in his heart—wise, observant, and occasionally brooding. Much like Elrond, the raven is deeply attuned to the world’s mysteries, often seen as a symbol of insight.
Guilty Pleasure: Elrond’s guilty pleasure is losing himself in old scrolls and forgotten histories—the vast knowledge of Middle-earth and its past is something he can never resist, even if it means he spends long hours in solitude.
Spiritual Animal: The swan is his spiritual animal, graceful and serene. It represents his nobility, elegance, and inner calm—a creature that glides smoothly, even though its feet are constantly working beneath the surface.
Glorfindel
Scent: Glorfindel smells like the warm, golden sunlight of the plains, blended with the fresh, earthy scent of wild herbs and flowers. His presence carries the invigorating aroma of nature, like a quiet breeze that moves through a meadow in full bloom. There’s a subtle hint of pine and earth that clings to him, especially after he’s been in the wild.
Favorite Food: His favorite food is a hearty lamb roast, tender and juicy, seasoned with fresh rosemary, garlic, and a hint of salt. The flavors are simple but bold, much like Glorfindel himself—strong, comforting, and full of life.
Favorite Dessert: Berry pies with a golden, flaky crust are Glorfindel’s favorite dessert. The sweetness of the berries contrasts perfectly with the rich, buttery crust, providing a balance he appreciates.
Favorite Flower: Glorfindel’s favorite flower is the sunflower, which symbolizes strength, vitality, and light—traits that he values deeply. The towering, golden blooms remind him of the power and beauty of nature, reflecting his own inner light and unwavering courage.
Favorite Drink: He enjoys a strong, dark elven coffee—smooth but intense, much like his presence. The deep, rich flavors of the brew awaken his senses and provide him with the energy needed to face the challenges of leadership and battle.
Favorite Color: Gold is Glorfindel’s favorite color, representing the sun’s warmth, strength, and vitality. It symbolizes his noble nature, his leadership, and his inner light.
Favorite Season: Summer is Glorfindel’s favorite season, filled with warmth, light, and life. It’s a time of abundance and vitality, much like his own exuberant spirit. He feels most connected to the world around him during this season, thriving in the sunlight and the full bloom of nature, as if the world is alive with endless possibilities.
Favorite Animal: A wild, majestic stallion is Glorfindel’s favorite animal, embodying freedom, strength, and grace. The stallion’s untamed spirit and commanding presence mirror Glorfindel’s own noble yet free-spirited nature. He feels a deep bond with these creatures, often riding into battle with the same fierce independence and power.
Guilty Pleasure: Glorfindel’s guilty pleasure is training for hours, often just because he enjoys the challenge. Whether it’s perfecting his swordplay or pushing himself to new physical limits, he finds joy in the act of pushing his body and mind to the edge. It’s a moment of solitude where he can focus solely on himself, away from the burdens of leadership.
Spiritual Animal: His spiritual animal is the lion—majestic, brave, and protective. Much like the lion, Glorfindel exudes confidence and strength, with a natural leadership that commands respect. He is fiercely loyal and protective of those he cares about, much like a lion safeguarding its pride. His courage is unwavering, and his spirit is one of unwavering protection.
Haldir
Smell: Haldir carries the sharp scent of wood and green leaves with him, a reminder of the forests he guards. It’s the fresh, invigorating scent of the wild, mixed with the earthiness of moss and the crispness of the forest floor after rain.
Favorite Food: He favors dried fish, smoked over a crackling fire. It’s simple, yet satisfying, with the smoky flavors of the forest’s edge filling the air—something hearty and practical for a warrior who lives by the rhythms of nature.
Favorite Dessert: Soft, warm berry tarts bring him comfort, the sweetness of the fruit balanced by the buttery pastry. It’s the kind of dessert that reminds him of quiet moments shared with loved ones in the peaceful calm of the woods.
Favorite Flower: Roses are his favorite, their petals delicate yet strong. Like him, they thrive in the face of challenges, their beauty a testament to resilience. He’s drawn to their quiet strength, much like the guardianship he feels for his people.
Favorite Drink: A strong, earthy tea with herbs from his homeland is Haldir’s drink of choice. Its depth of flavor, grounded by roots and leaves, helps center his mind during long hours of watch or when he seeks solitude to reflect on the tasks ahead.
Favorite Color: Forest green, the color of his heart, is the color that defines him. It’s the hue of the woods he loves, where he feels most at home, a blend of peace and power that flows through every aspect of his life.
Favorite Season: Autumn, when the leaves turn gold and the air is crisp, is Haldir’s favorite season. The quiet change of the world around him mirrors his own introspection, and he finds comfort in the calm that the turning of the seasons brings.
Favorite Animal: The fox, clever and agile, represents Haldir’s sharp mind and quick reflexes. It’s a creature that moves silently through the underbrush, ever watchful and quick to adapt—traits he values as a protector of the forest.
Guilty Pleasure: Haldir’s guilty pleasure is taking long walks alone in the woods, reflecting on his thoughts. In these moments, he is away from the burdens of leadership, allowing the quiet of the forest to clear his mind and help him find peace.
Spiritual Animal: The hawk, swift and focused, is his spiritual animal. It represents his sharp gaze and unwavering determination, as well as his ability to navigate through challenges with precision and a clear purpose. The hawk soars above, always keeping watch over all below.
Lindir
Scent: Lindir carries the scent of sweet-scented wood and aged parchment, a reflection of his scholarly nature. The gentle, earthy notes speak of quiet study, timeless wisdom, and the calming presence of Rivendell’s ancient halls.
Favorite Food: A delicate blend of fruit, sweet with a tangy glaze that balances the flavors perfectly. It’s a dish that mirrors his appreciation for simple pleasures with a touch of refinement.
Favorite Dessert: Lemon cakes, tart but soft, embodying Lindir’s balance of sharp intellect and gentle spirit. Their vibrant flavor lifts the mood, much like his quiet but uplifting presence among friends.
Favorite Flower: White roses, elegant and unpretentious, reflecting his love for simplicity and beauty. The pure, soft petals remind him of peace and clarity.
Favorite Drink: Soft, berry-infused water, refreshing yet light, much like Lindir’s calm and approachable demeanor. It’s a drink that cools the spirit and nourishes the soul.
Favorite Color: Pale blue, cool and serene like a calm river, this color mirrors Lindir’s gentle, composed nature. It reminds him of the quiet moments spent near the water, feeling at peace with the world.
Favorite Season: Spring, a season of renewal and growth. Lindir finds joy in watching the world awaken, much like his own heart, which comes alive with the season’s fresh start.
Favorite Animal: The songbird, delicate and beautiful, a symbol of grace and freedom. Lindir admires its ability to express itself with such simplicity, yet its song can fill the air with meaning and warmth.
Guilty Pleasure: Singing at the top of his lungs when no one’s around. It’s his secret escape, a moment of joy and release where he lets his heart sing freely, without worry or restraint.
Spiritual Animal: The dove, a symbol of peace, grace, and hope. Much like the dove, Lindir is gentle and calm, always striving to bring tranquility to those around him, spreading harmony wherever he goes.
I adore the your post of “the elves reacting to the different types of kisses”
please can you do an Elrond one I love him so much and love how you write him 🥺🩵
hope you are well and thank you
Thank you so much your words mean a lot and I’m just tired but I’m alright thanks for asking ❤️🔥🫶✨ yes! 🙌 Elrond supremacy. enjoy my friend 🛐
As they was a few who requested Elrond too this was the first person not sure who the anonymous ones are but here Elrond one 🙌
The elves reacting to the different types of kisses (forehead, cheek, jaw, wrist elven ear, nose, shoulder, lips...)
Elrond version below
📜 𝓔𝓵𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓭
Forehead kiss
The day had stretched long, and the weight of his responsibilities pressed heavily on Elrond’s noble shoulders. His usually calm expression betrayed the slightest furrow of worry as he stood by the window of his chamber, gazing out at the valley below, lost in thought. The soft rustle of your approach drew his attention briefly, but his eyes lingered on the horizon, his mind still consumed by duty.
You stepped close, silently placing a hand on his arm. The warmth of your touch seemed to bring him back to the present, and his gaze flickered to you. Without a word, you cupped his cheek gently, the pads of your fingers grazing his skin as you guided his face toward you. His eyes searched yours, a mix of quiet admiration and vulnerability, as you leaned in, your lips brushing his forehead with infinite care.
Elrond froze, as though caught off guard by the simplicity of the gesture, but then let out a soft, shuddering breath, his body visibly relaxing. His long lashes fluttered shut, and for a moment, he simply stood there, letting the warmth of your affection sink into him. Slowly, his hands rose to frame your face, his touch reverent and tender. His thumbs grazed your cheekbones, lingering as though he couldn’t bear to let the moment pass too quickly.
He lowered his head, his forehead pressing gently against yours, his breath mingling with your own. His voice, when it came, was soft and unsteady, yet full of depth and sincerity. “You honor me with such simple, yet profound affection, meleth nín,” he murmured, his words almost a whisper. “In moments like this, I am reminded that even amidst the chaos, there is peace.”
A small smile crept across his lips, warm and grateful, and he lingered there with you, the tension in his shoulders slowly melting away. For a time, the world outside faded, and all that mattered was the quiet intimacy of your shared presence.
✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦
Cheek kiss
The late afternoon sunlight spilled into the study, casting a warm glow across the room. The faint scent of parchment and ink lingered in the air as Elrond sat at his desk, his quill moving gracefully across a piece of vellum. His brows knit slightly in concentration, but there was no urgency in his work—just a quiet diligence that was so characteristically his.
You stood nearby, watching him with a soft smile. His hair, dark as the night sky, fell in elegant waves over his shoulders, and the calm focus in his features only made your heart ache with affection. Drawn to him, you moved closer, standing at his side for a moment before leaning down.
Elrond didn’t notice at first, his mind still absorbed in his work, until your lips brushed lightly against his cheek. The contact was fleeting, yet impossibly tender, and it brought him to a sudden pause. The quill in his hand stopped mid-stroke, and you saw the faintest flicker of surprise in his expression.
Slowly, he turned his head to meet your gaze. His eyes, deep and thoughtful, softened as they locked onto yours. A faint blush crept across his fair skin—so subtle that only someone as close as you would notice. He didn’t speak at first, as though searching for the right words, but instead, he reached out, his hand brushing against your cheek with a touch as light as a whisper.
His lips quirked upward in a small, almost teasing smile. “You’ve stolen my focus,” he said softly, though his tone held no reproach. His fingers lingered on your face, tracing an invisible path along your cheekbone, before letting his hand rest there. “But then again,” he continued, his voice low and steady, “my heart has been yours for far longer than my attention.”
He leaned back slightly, his smile still faint but undeniably warm, his eyes lingering on you with quiet devotion. Though he returned to his work, you could see the way his expression had changed—the faint smile remained, and the warmth of your kiss seemed to linger in his demeanor, a silent reminder of the love that surrounded him.
✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦
Jawline kiss
The evening air was soft with the quiet hum of the world around you, but in this moment, the only sounds were the steady rhythm of your breaths and the subtle, electric tension between you and Elrond. You stood close, the space between you charged with the unspoken affection that had always been there, but tonight felt different—more palpable, more intense.
You raised your hand to gently trace the sharp, defined line of his jaw, your fingers lightly brushing against his skin. The touch was barely there, but the effect was immediate. Elrond’s breath caught, a sharp intake that hinted at the tension building within him. His eyes fluttered closed as the softness of your lips followed the path your fingers had traced, pressing a delicate kiss to his jawline.
The simple touch seemed to unravel something inside of him. His hand found the small of your back, pulling you closer, the heat of his palm seeping through the fabric of your clothing. His body was taut, as though every part of him was straining to maintain composure in the wake of such intimate attention.
A low hum rumbled from his chest, a sound that was half in pleasure, half in restraint. Elrond tilted his head slightly toward you, instinctively seeking more of your touch. The movement was subtle, but it was enough to make your pulse quicken as his closeness enveloped you. His lips parted just enough to allow a whispered breath to escape. “Do you know what you do to me, meleth nín?” His voice was deep, husky, coated with desire that he was trying to keep carefully restrained.
You could see it in his eyes—the heat building behind them. It was as if the world around him had faded away, leaving only the two of you in this shared moment of longing. His gray eyes smoldered, fixed on yours with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat.
Slowly, almost reverently, Elrond reached up, brushing a stray lock of your hair behind your ear. His thumb trailed softly along the curve of your cheek, the touch sending a shiver through you. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your temple before pressing against yours in a kiss that was slow, deliberate, and full of yearning. His hand cradled your face, his fingers delicately tracing the line of your jaw as if committing the feeling to memory.
His kiss deepened, slow but purposeful, pulling you even closer, until there was no more space between your bodies. The intensity of his touch, the way his lips moved against yours, spoke of a hunger that was tempered with reverence—a deep desire to connect with you, to claim you in the most tender of ways.
When the kiss finally broke, Elrond rested his forehead against yours, his breath still uneven. He closed his eyes, taking a moment to regain his composure, but the warmth of his gaze never left yours. You could feel the stillness between you, a connection so powerful that neither words nor gestures were needed to express it.
In the silence, you could hear the quiet hum of contentment that passed between you both. It was a shared understanding, an acknowledgment of the depth of feeling that neither of you had to explain. With one last tender touch, Elrond’s hand lingered at the back of your neck, his thumb brushing across your skin, as if marking the moment in time when nothing else mattered but the two of you together.
✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦
Wrist kiss
You found yourself next to Elrond, the two of you standing in the quiet sanctuary of his study, the soft glow of candlelight flickering around you both. The weight of his many responsibilities was ever present, but there was a gentleness in the way he looked at you, as though in your presence, he could find some measure of solace.
As he reached out to move a book on the desk, his sleeve gently shifted, exposing the delicate skin of his wrist. It was a part of him that rarely felt the touch of affection, reserved only for the most intimate moments. With a tenderness that mirrored his own care for you, you reached for his wrist, your lips grazing the soft skin there, pressing a kiss against it.
The effect was immediate. Elrond froze, his entire body stilling as your lips made contact with his wrist. A shiver of warmth ran up his arm, the sensation more intense than he’d expected. His breath caught in his chest for a brief moment, and he slowly lifted his gaze to meet yours. His grayish blue eyes softened, the usual intensity replaced by something infinitely more tender, more open.
His lips parted as if he wished to say something, but for a moment, he simply studied you with admiration, as though trying to convey just how much your love meant to him. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke, his voice quieter than usual, laced with emotion. “Even the smallest of gestures from you are treasured more than you know.”
Elrond took your hand in his, his thumb brushing gently over the spot where your lips had just been. His touch was careful, as though he feared that the simple act of holding you too tightly might cause the moment to slip away. “Every touch, every gesture, you have my heart, meleth nín,” he whispered, a deep sincerity in his tone.
He held your hand for a moment longer, his gaze soft but filled with the unspoken depth of his feelings for you. That wrist, so often overlooked, now felt like the center of the world to him, imbued with the love you gave so freely.
✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦
Lips kiss
The evening was serene, the soft glow of candlelight flickering as you and Elrond shared a quiet moment together. He stood close to you, his gaze tender and full of warmth. Your eyes met, and without a word, you stepped toward him, your breath mingling in the still air. He watched you with soft admiration, as if he had all the time in the world to simply take you in.
You reached up, your hands brushing against his chest before gently cupping his face. With a softness that mirrored your emotions, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. At first, the kiss was slow and tender, a simple meeting of lips that spoke volumes in its gentleness. Elrond sighed into the kiss, savoring the warmth and softness of your touch as if it was something he could never have enough of. His arms wrapped securely around you, pulling you closer as though the very act of holding you might protect you both from the world outside.
But then, as you deepened the kiss, something in Elrond seemed to shift. His control, which was often unwavering, slipped away in that moment, and you felt the intensity of his response as he kissed you with a newfound urgency. His lips moved against yours with a passion that took your breath away, his hands cradling your face with a reverence that made your heart swell.
“There is no joy greater than this, to feel you, to know you are mine,” he whispered between kisses, his voice thick with emotion. His thumbs traced your cheeks with a tenderness that spoke of his unspoken devotion. It was as though he was trying to convey everything he couldn’t say with words—how deeply he loved you, how your presence grounded him in a way nothing else could.
When the kiss finally ended, Elrond rested his forehead against yours, his breath coming a little quicker, his eyes half-lidded with affection and contentment. A quiet hum of happiness escaped him, as if he could find peace in your touch alone. His mind was entirely focused on you, the connection between you two that no burden or responsibility could touch.
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Temple kiss
Elrond’s shoulders were heavy with the weight of leadership, and though he carried it with grace, you could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the subtle tension that lingered at the edges of his calm demeanor. He sat in a chair, a moment of respite amidst his duties, though his mind was clearly still preoccupied. You approached him quietly, your movements gentle and deliberate, sensing that he needed a moment of peace more than anything else.
Kneeling beside him, you placed your hand on his shoulder, your touch soothing. His grayish-blue eyes met yours, and for the first time in what felt like hours, you saw him relax just slightly, the guard around him lowering, even if only for a brief moment. Without a word, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his temple, your lips barely grazing the smooth skin there.
Elrond’s eyes fluttered shut, and a quiet sigh of relief escaped his lips. For a moment, all the burdens of his responsibilities seemed to fade into the background, and he simply allowed himself to be present with you. The kiss, so gentle and full of love, was like a balm to his weary mind. It was the kind of touch he didn’t realize he needed—something tender and uncomplicated that allowed him to forget the weight he carried.
A small, blissful smile tugged at his lips as he let his head fall slightly to the side, seeking more of your touch. His hand, almost instinctively, reached up to brush through your hair, the action soft and intimate, a gesture that spoke volumes about his devotion to you. His touch was like a silent vow, a promise that no matter the burden he carried, you would always be his refuge.
“You are a balm to my weary mind,” he whispered, his voice low and full of gratitude. There was a quiet reverence in the way he spoke, as though you had done something extraordinary simply by offering him this small act of love.
For a few minutes, neither of you spoke. The world outside felt distant, and in the tranquility of that moment, Elrond allowed himself to simply be held, the quiet affection you shared a relief from the constant demands of his life. The gentle kiss on his temple had given him a rare, peaceful respite, a reminder that he was not alone in the weight of the world.
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Neck kiss
The room was bathed in a soft, golden light, a quiet stillness enveloping the two of you. Elrond stood before you, his figure tall and commanding, yet there was a subtle unease in his posture. The weight of countless duties, both past and present, seemed to press against him even in the quiet solace of your presence. The air between you was thick with an unspoken connection, as though the world outside held no importance in this fleeting moment.
With each breath he took, the tension in his shoulders remained, yet the tenderness in his eyes when they met yours was undeniable. Without a word, you took a step closer, your hand slowly reaching for him, your fingertips grazing the soft fabric of his tunic as you placed your hand gently against his chest, just over his heart. The contact was grounding, and for a heartbeat, you both stood there, feeling the rhythm of each other’s presence.
As your lips brushed softly against the delicate curve of his neck, you could feel Elrond’s breath catch in his throat. The sound was barely audible, but it spoke volumes, a mixture of surprise and longing. His chest rose and fell with the slow, measured rhythm of his breathing, but it was uneven now, stirred by the warmth of your touch. His usually composed demeanor seemed to falter for just a moment, the vulnerability in the way he closed his eyes betraying the depth of the feelings your kiss evoked.
Elrond’s fingers slid down your arm with a slow, deliberate motion, as if memorizing the feel of your skin against his. His touch was reverent, like a soft caress, sending ripples of warmth through your body. You could sense that your kiss, so tender and fleeting, had unlocked something within him, a tenderness he rarely allowed himself to show. His fingertips trailed down, brushing against your wrist before his hand moved back up to rest against the small of your back, guiding you closer to him.
A soft sigh, barely a whisper, escaped his lips. It was a sound so quiet, almost imperceptible, but it carried an unmistakable weight—a rare expression of vulnerability from the steadfast Lord of Rivendell. Your lips continued their slow, gentle exploration, and in that moment, everything outside of the two of you seemed to fall away. The world could wait; only this intimate exchange mattered now.
His voice, a low murmur, broke the silence, the words heavy with meaning. “There are few things more cherished than your kiss, meleth nín,” Elrond spoke, his voice barely a whisper, but the sincerity in his words was unmistakable. Each syllable seemed to hang in the air between you, carrying with it the depth of his feelings. His gaze softened even more as his eyes flicked to yours, his hand moving ever so gently to cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer.
The heat of his skin beneath your lips was intoxicating, his pulse steady and strong against your touch, yet there was something more in his quiet response to your kiss. He leaned into your touch, surrendering himself to the comfort you gave him, as though your kiss was a balm to the weary soul he kept hidden beneath layers of responsibility. It was a sacred thing—this moment, this connection.
As you stayed there, the kiss lingering between you both, Elrond’s hand moved, his fingers gently cradling the back of your neck, encouraging you to stay just as you were. The silence between you was thick with emotion, a shared understanding that needed no further words. Everything in that space—his touch, his presence, and the way he held you—spoke louder than anything he could have said aloud. In this moment, you both existed outside the bounds of time and duty, caught in a quiet, intimate exchange of affection that felt both eternal and fleeting.
As the kiss finally slowed, you felt a subtle shift within him—something deep and profound. His breath was slower now, his chest rising and falling in a gentler rhythm. The closeness between you seemed to wrap around you both, leaving you suspended in a moment of unspoken connection. Elrond’s hand remained against the back of your neck, a silent plea for you to stay just a little longer, to hold on to this peace that neither of you could find anywhere else.
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Hand kiss
The two of you sat together in the dim light of the study, the fire crackling softly in the hearth as Elrond absentmindedly traced the edge of a map with his fingers. His mind was no doubt busy with the concerns of Rivendell and the state of Middle-earth, but in this peaceful moment, there was an underlying tranquility that existed only in your shared presence.
You reached out, your fingers brushing over his hand, catching his attention. Elrond turned his gaze toward you, his expression softening instantly, a gentle warmth in his eyes that spoke volumes without a single word. His hand stilled beneath yours as you lifted it gently, bringing it to your lips. You pressed a soft, reverent kiss to the back of his hand, feeling the subtle texture of his skin, the weight of every moment shared between you both.
The air seemed to still as you pulled back, and Elrond’s eyes never left you. A gentle smile touched his lips, a small yet deeply meaningful expression that carried with it all the affection he often held in reserve. He lowered his gaze to your hand, then back up to your face, as though he were searching for the right words.
“You honor me beyond measure,” Elrond spoke quietly, his voice thick with emotion. His eyes softened as he raised your hand to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss to your knuckles in return. “And I am humbled by your love.”
In the simple act of kissing his hand, you felt the deep reverence he held for you, the silent acknowledgment of all that you had shared. It was a gesture of tenderness, but it carried more weight than just the kiss—it was an unspoken promise, an assurance that the love between you was both enduring and sacred. Elrond’s eyes locked with yours once more, a connection formed between the two of you, tender and filled with an affection that transcended words. The moment felt timeless, a small, intimate exchange of love that would stay with you both long after the evening passed.
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Shoulder kiss
The early morning light filtered gently through the curtains, casting a soft, golden glow over the bedroom. The quiet stillness of the room was only broken by the steady rhythm of Elrond’s breathing as he lay beside you, his features relaxed in the peace of sleep. The soft warmth of the blankets cocooned you both, but your eyes were wide awake, watching him with the kind of affection that only a quiet morning could inspire.
You couldn’t resist the pull to be close to him, to wake him with the tenderness he always showed you. Gently, you reached out, your fingertips brushing across the smooth expanse of his bare shoulder. His skin was warm and soft beneath your touch, a quiet contrast to the coolness of the early morning air. Slowly, you pressed a kiss to the curve of his shoulder, the soft, tender contact brushing over his skin like a whisper of affection.
The sensation of your lips on his shoulder was enough to stir Elrond from his slumber. His breathing faltered, the warmth of sleep slipping away as he became aware of your presence beside him. At first, there was just a subtle shift, a small intake of breath, but then his body seemed to relax into the touch, as though he had waited for this moment to fully wake. His skin flushed, the unexpected kiss a reminder of the connection between you. The sound of a slow, contented sigh escaped his lips as he turned toward you, his eyes fluttering open just enough to meet yours.
For a moment, he simply gazed at you with sleepy adoration, his tired eyes filled with a quiet love. A soft smile curved his lips, the kind of smile that spoke of deep affection and warmth, something only you could bring to life in him. His arms moved instinctively, reaching out to pull you closer, enveloping you in his embrace as he nuzzled his face against yours, his breath warm against your skin.
“Meleth nín,” he murmured softly, his voice thick with sleep yet full of affection. The sound of your name on his lips felt like the most intimate of blessings, each syllable wrapped in devotion. His hands, though still heavy with the drowsiness of sleep, caressed your face with gentle strokes, his touch tender as though memorizing every contour of you.
You felt him draw you closer, the space between you vanishing as he pressed his lips to yours in a deep, loving kiss. His kiss was slow, savoring, and as it deepened, you could feel the weight of his love, the way he poured all his affection into this simple, intimate moment. His hands framed your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks, his kiss a quiet declaration of everything he could never fully say with words.
When the kiss finally broke, Elrond rested his forehead against yours, his eyes half-lidded with affection. His breath came slower now, more even, the weight of sleep still lingering in his voice. He caressed your face with a tenderness that made your heart flutter, his eyes closing for just a moment as if memorizing the feeling of being close to you, here, in this quiet, sacred moment.
“I cannot imagine a better way to begin the day,” he whispered, his voice still soft and drowsy, but full of warmth and adoration. His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer as though he could keep you in this moment forever, the world outside fading into nothing.
There was no rush, no need for anything more. Just the simple peace of being in each other’s arms, the quiet love that seemed to speak louder than any words. It was a moment suspended in time, where everything outside of you both ceased to exist.
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Nose kiss
The fire in the hearth crackled softly, filling the room with a comforting warmth as Elrond sat beside you, engrossed in one of his many books. He was always absorbed in knowledge, often getting lost in the pages of ancient texts, his mind racing with ideas and thoughts that few could understand.
You sat close, your eyes occasionally flicking to the words, but more often than not, you were simply content to watch him. The way his brow furrowed in concentration, the way his fingers turned the pages so delicately, and the way his voice occasionally hummed as he read aloud all captivated you.
As he read, your heart swelled with affection for him—the calm, steady presence he exuded. The thought of interrupting him with a small act of love was too tempting to resist, so you leaned over just enough to press a soft, playful kiss to the tip of his nose.
The gentle touch pulled him from the pages of the book, and Elrond froze for a brief moment. A quiet chuckle rumbled from his chest as he looked up from the pages, his attention momentarily broken. His lips curved into a smile, his gray eyes softening with warmth and amusement.
“Such a playful love you are,” he said, his voice rich with affection as he closed the book with a soft, satisfied thud. His fingers lingered on the cover as he met your gaze, a smile tugging at his lips. “But I must admit, I enjoy the interruption.” There was a glint of amusement in his eyes, but also a deep sense of contentment as he turned his full attention toward you, the corners of his lips curling upward with genuine happiness.
He leaned in toward you, his lips brushing yours gently at first, his kiss slow and deep with all the quiet affection that had accumulated in the space between you during the evening. As you pulled away, he chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm in the silence of the room.
“I should be reading, but your love makes it hard to focus,” he murmured, his voice laced with a quiet teasing. The spark of joy in his eyes was unmistakable, and you knew that, for Elrond, moments like this—simple, tender, and full of affection—were just as meaningful as his study of ancient texts. In fact, these small interruptions were the moments that he cherished most.
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Elven ear kiss
The cool night air of Rivendell wrapped around you as you stood on the balcony beside Elrond, the vast sky above dotted with a thousand stars, their light reflecting in his eyes. He stood tall, his back straight, the weight of his thoughts evident in his posture, his gaze lost in the distance. For all his grandeur and wisdom, in this moment, he seemed as if he was simply a man—burdened, pensive, and human in his own way.
You couldn’t resist the pull to be close to him, to share in the quiet solitude of this night. You stepped behind him, your soft footsteps muffled by the stone beneath your feet. Slowly, your fingers brushed lightly across his back, feeling the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his tunic. He didn’t turn, didn’t speak, but there was a subtle shift in his demeanor, as though your touch had woven itself into his thoughts.
With a gentle breath, you leaned in, your lips softly finding the delicate tip of his pointed ear. The effect on him was immediate. A soft, audible gasp escaped him—caught somewhere between surprise and pleasure. His body tensed, and for the briefest of moments, you felt the weight of his usually composed nature falter. His hands, which had been loosely gripping the railing, tightened, the stone beneath his fingers creaking slightly with the force of his grip. His head tilted instinctively toward you, his ear more exposed to your kiss despite the vulnerability it brought him.
“Meleth…” The word was a breath, a plea that slipped from his lips, shaky with a tenderness he rarely allowed to show. There was something raw in his voice, a vulnerability that only you could evoke, and it stirred something deep within you.
You could feel the heat rising in his skin, the tension leaving him as the kiss lingered, his body relaxing into your presence. Slowly, he turned to face you, his gaze meeting yours in the moonlight. His gray eyes were darker now, filled with a depth of emotion that he rarely allowed others to see. There was longing in the way he looked at you, a silent hunger that spoke of more than just the moment you shared—it spoke of the bond between you, something unspoken, but deeply understood.
Without a word, his hands rose to cup your face, his touch reverent, as though he were tracing the very lines of your soul. He pressed his forehead gently to yours, closing his eyes as if savoring the nearness of you. The breath between you was quiet, shared, intimate.
“You undo me,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, the words barely more than a breath against your skin. His lips brushed against yours softly, the kiss tender at first, full of affection and deep yearning. But as the kiss deepened, so did the longing that had built between you, a powerful wave that threatened to break the calm surface. His lips moved with increasing urgency, yet still with the care and reverence he always showed you. His hands, now framing your face, held you close, pulling you into the moment as if time itself had no bearing on the truth of what you were sharing.
When the kiss finally broke, Elrond stayed close, his breath coming in soft, uneven pants, his forehead still pressed gently against yours. His eyes fluttered open, meeting yours with a quiet intensity that took your breath away. For a moment, neither of you said anything, the words that could explain the moment not quite necessary.
Instead, Elrond’s hands remained on your face, his thumbs caressing your skin with the same tender devotion that had always been his way. “I’ve never known a love like this,” he murmured softly, the words full of awe, full of you. His lips, still warm from your kiss, pressed a final, sweet kiss to your forehead, as if sealing the moment with the softness of a promise that needed no words.
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Back of the neck kiss
The study was quiet, save for the soft scratching of Elrond’s quill against the parchment. The room was filled with the scent of aged paper and ink, the dim light of a nearby candle casting gentle shadows across the scrolls and books that surrounded him. His brow furrowed in concentration as he carefully transcribed ancient texts, his attention fully consumed by the task at hand. His usual grace and composure were evident, though there was a subtle weariness in his posture, a sign of the long hours he spent in service to his people.
You, however, were drawn to him not by the work, but by the man himself. As he remained absorbed in his study, you silently approached him, your footsteps barely a whisper on the stone floor. You stood behind him, watching for a moment, the peaceful rhythm of his writing almost hypnotic. A fond smile tugged at your lips, watching the way his fingers delicately held the quill, the quiet determination in his gaze.
With a soft sigh, you reached forward, your hands brushing gently against his broad shoulders. The moment your touch made contact, his body stiffened ever so slightly, a subtle tension running through him. It was only natural for him to be so engrossed in his work, but you could feel the faint ripple of surprise in him at your unexpected presence. He didn’t speak, though, giving you the silent permission you needed to continue.
Slowly, carefully, you leaned forward, your lips brushing softly against the back of his neck. The effect was instantaneous. His breath caught in his throat, and his quill stilled, hovering above the paper as he let out a quiet breath. His muscles tightened briefly, betraying the control he so often maintained, before he slowly relaxed into your touch. A soft sigh escaped him as he let the moment linger, the kiss a quiet reprieve from the weight of his responsibilities.
After a few moments, Elrond set his quill down with deliberate slowness, the motion as smooth as ever, though there was an undeniable tenderness in the way he placed it on the desk. His hand rose to cover yours where it rested on his shoulder, his fingers warm against your skin as if savoring the simple connection. “I fear you’ve stolen my focus entirely, meleth nín,” he said, his voice low and amused, the usual coolness replaced by a warmth that reached his tone. There was no frustration in his words—only affection, a reflection of his quiet joy in having you close.
You smiled softly, feeling the warmth of his hand on yours, your heart swelling at the love in his voice. Before you could respond, Elrond turned in his chair, his gray eyes soft with fondness as he pulled you gently into his lap. His arms encircled your waist, pulling you close with a sense of protectiveness that was both comforting and intimate. You felt the strength of him around you, his embrace grounding you as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.
He kissed the soft flesh of your neck, the tender press of his lips sending a shiver through your body. “How can I think of anything but you when you are near?” he murmured, his voice thick with affection, the words as much a statement of truth as a quiet confession.
You could feel the warmth of his lips against your skin as he kissed you again, this time slower, deeper, as if savoring the moment, cherishing the intimacy that only the two of you shared. He pulled back slightly, his gray eyes meeting yours with a tenderness that made your heart ache. “The world can wait, for now,” he whispered, as though everything outside of this moment—this feeling—was secondary.
With a soft smile, he leaned in once more, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was full of love and longing, quiet and unhurried, as though time itself had suspended its passage. Elrond held you close, the work forgotten, his focus entirely on you. In that moment, there was no duty, no responsibility, only the warmth of your embrace and the love that flowed between you both—undisturbed, perfect, and lasting.
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You cooked something you wanted them to try it by hand feeding them on a spoon so “hey will you try this for me please?” moves spoon closer to their lips and says “open”
Headcanons: Gil Galad, Celebrimbor, Thranduil, Elrond, Glorfindel, Haldir, Lindir.
This first post I hope anyone whom ever reads this enjoys, I been inspired by @earthlybeam random chaos love your writing so much makes my day ♡
Gil~Galad
You stood before Gil-galad, a small plate of steaming food in hand, the aroma of roasted vegetables and spiced honey filling the air. You had spent a good portion of the afternoon preparing it, perfecting every detail—just the right balance of sweetness and warmth. Now, you felt a spark of excitement, the hope that he’d enjoy it dancing in your chest.
“Gil-galad,” you said, your voice light with anticipation. “I made something special. Will you try it for me?”
He turned to face you, those sharp, piercing eyes of his studying you with a mixture of curiosity and caution. Always the composed king. “What is it?”
“Just a little something,” you replied with a grin, teasing him. “Go ahead, trust me. Open.”
You held out a spoon toward him, the delicate blend of roasted carrots, parsnips, and a drizzle of honey gleaming in the soft light of the room. You could see the slight hesitation in his gaze, though it was only for the briefest of moments.
He raised a brow, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You ask much of me, my friend,” he said in his usual, controlled tone, though there was no real reluctance in his voice.
“Open,” you repeated, your gaze steady but playful as you moved the spoon closer to his lips.
Gil-galad hesitated for a mere heartbeat before finally complying, his lips parting slightly as you guided the spoon to his mouth. He didn’t rush, but took the bite with calm elegance, the High King in him even in the simplest of moments.
His eyes closed for a moment as he chewed, clearly savoring the taste. When he opened them again, they met yours, warm and thoughtful, with a quiet appreciation.
“Well,” he began, a slight smile now forming on his face, “it seems your cooking skills match your ability to challenge me. This is… quite good.”
You grinned, feeling a small triumph surge through you. “I’m glad you think so.”
Gil-galad didn’t speak again, but there was something in his expression—something akin to soft amusement—that made your heart flutter. He had been the ever-dignified ruler, but in this moment, you could see a different side of him, a side that only you would know: the quiet joy of something simple, something shared.
“More?” you offered, your tone teasing.
His smile deepened ever so slightly. “Only if you insist.”
You could hardly keep the grin off your face as you moved to feed him another bite, this time feeling the weight of his gaze on you more than ever.
Celebrimbor
You stood in the kitchen, carefully placing the last spoonful of a delicate dish you’d spent hours perfecting—honey-glazed figs stuffed with creamy goat cheese and roasted almonds. The aroma was tantalizing, rich and sweet with a hint of warmth from the oven. You were excited, eager to share the fruits of your labor with Celebrimbor, who was lingering nearby, seemingly lost in his thoughts as he inspected one of his many crafted items.
“Celebrimbor,” you called, your voice light with anticipation. His head tilted up at the sound of your voice, those amber eyes momentarily shifting from the mithril work in his hands to you. He smiled, though the slight furrow between his brows suggested he was still thinking through something—likely a design flaw or a new idea for his next project.
“Yes?” he replied, his tone soft but curious.
“I made something,” you said with a mischievous grin, stepping forward with a small plate in hand, carefully holding the figs on a silver dish. “I know how much you appreciate fine craftsmanship, so I thought I’d offer you a taste of mine.”
You took a step closer, the plate balanced gently in your hands as you met his gaze. “Will you try this for me, please?”
He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking in a way that suggested his interest was piqued, though his expression remained mostly neutral. “For you?” he asked, his voice low with a hint of amusement. “I suppose I could be persuaded.”
Grinning wider, you leaned in slightly, taking one of the figs on the spoon and moving it towards his lips with exaggerated care. “Open,” you said, a playful note in your voice as you held the spoon just inches away from his mouth.
Celebrimbor blinked, a moment of hesitation flickering across his face. He’d spent a lifetime surrounded by the finest artisans and craftsmen, but this—this was different. There was a tenderness in your gesture that made him pause, just for a second, before his lips parted and he allowed you to feed him.
The bite was small, delicate, and as he tasted it, his expression shifted from mild curiosity to something warmer, something softer. His eyes closed for a brief moment, savoring the flavor.
“It is…” He opened his eyes, fixing you with an expression that was part surprise, part admiration. “Delightful,” he said, his voice thoughtful, the corners of his lips twitching with a restrained smile. “You’ve a talent for this, as well.”
You couldn’t help but grin, pleased with the reaction. “You don’t have to be so formal, Celebrimbor. You can say it’s fantastic if you want.”
He chuckled quietly, the sound rich and warm. “Perhaps you’ll hear that from me when I’ve had more. One is hardly enough to judge.”
You nodded, offering him another bite, this time bringing the spoon closer and meeting his gaze with a teasing gleam. “I suppose I’ll have to make more then. Wouldn’t want to leave you hanging with just one taste.”
He didn’t fight you this time, and though he maintained his usual air of dignity, there was an undeniable warmth in the way he accepted the next spoonful.
“You’re quite the temptation,” he murmured, a quiet but genuine note of affection in his words. “I must confess, I’ve rarely been so distracted from my work.”
A satisfied smile curled on your lips as you watched him, both pleased with the food and the response it garnered. It was rare for him to show such vulnerability, and it made every moment you shared feel all the more precious.
Thranduil
You watched Thranduil with quiet anticipation as you held out the spoon in front of him, a small, delicate spoonful of honeyed pears glistening in the soft light of the evening. The sweet fragrance of the fruit and spices seemed to hang in the air, almost teasing his senses. You had spent hours preparing this dish, carefully infusing the pears with a blend of forest herbs that you’d hoped would appeal to his refined tastes.
“Your Majesty,” you began, voice a touch playful. “Would you do me the honor of trying something I made?”
Thranduil’s gaze shifted from the fire, sharp and calculating, as though he were weighing your words against the silence of the forest that surrounded his kingdom. His eyes, as cold and green as the ancient woods he ruled, bore into you, but for a moment, you swore you saw a glint of curiosity in them.
You took a step closer, the spoon moving ever so slightly toward his lips. His posture didn’t change—proud, composed, and regal as always—but there was something in the air now, a shift, as if he was waiting for something from you. A challenge, perhaps.
“Try it,” you urged again, smiling mischievously, “I promise it won’t bite.”
A low, almost imperceptible hum vibrated in his chest, his fingers tightening slightly around the armrest of his chair, but he didn’t speak for a moment. Thranduil’s lips parted ever so slightly, eyes narrowing in that regal, almost imperious way of his. Still, his gaze lingered on the spoon.
“Open,” you said again, voice quiet but confident.
He hesitated, just for a second, as if considering whether to indulge you, but then, ever so slowly, he leaned forward. His lips parted just enough to accept the bite, and you watched him as you fed him the honeyed pears.
The moment the fruit touched his tongue, a soft sigh escaped his lips—one that was nearly inaudible, but you heard it all the same. Thranduil’s eyes fluttered closed for just a second, as though savoring the taste. When they opened again, you saw something akin to surprise flicker in their depths.
“…This is…unexpected,” he murmured, and for a fleeting moment, his usual arrogance seemed to soften.
You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. “Unexpected in a good way, I hope?”
A small, almost imperceptible smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Perhaps,” he replied, his voice lowering just slightly. “It would be rude to say otherwise, wouldn’t it?”
You leaned in a little closer, offering him another spoonful, your gaze locked with his. Thranduil’s expression remained unreadable, but there was something in his eyes now, something that made you think you had won a small victory in his unyielding kingdom.
“Well,” you said, raising an eyebrow, “I’m glad to hear that.”
For a brief moment, Thranduil seemed to be lost in thought, a rare thing for him, before he met your gaze again, his lips twitching slightly. “Do not mistake me,” he said, his voice regaining its usual, regal tone. “I am still not accustomed to being fed like some pet.”
You chuckled lightly. “Oh, I’m certain the great Elven King can tolerate a little bit of indulgence.”
He only raised an eyebrow in response, as though silently challenging your audacity, but you noticed that he didn’t pull away. In fact, his fingers brushed the edge of your hand for a fraction of a second, the faintest hint of contact—brief, but deliberate.
It was enough for you to know that, despite his aloof demeanor, something about your small act of defiance, your playful challenge, had softened the armor around him—if only for a moment.
“Perhaps,” he said quietly, “you may do this again. But only if I deem it worthy.”
You grinned, knowing that this, at least, was a victory you’d savor. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Elrond
You stood in front of Elrond, a small plate of carefully prepared elvish honey cakes in your hands, the soft aroma filling the air. You were quite proud of the delicate treat you had made, the perfect balance of sweetness and texture that you hoped would please his refined tastes.
“Lord Elrond,” you said, a playful gleam in your eye, “will you try this for me, please?”
He looked up from his work, his piercing grey eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity. His composed, noble demeanor never faltered, but there was a faint lift at the corner of his lips, a sign that he was accustomed to your antics.
His brow arched ever so slightly, but he said nothing as you held up the spoon, the golden cake perched delicately upon it.
You moved the spoon closer to his lips and smiled, “Open.”
Elrond’s eyes flickered to the spoon, then back to you, his gaze sharp and steady. There was an almost imperceptible pause before he slowly parted his lips, allowing you to feed him. As he tasted the cake, you watched closely for any hint of approval.
The sweetness lingered on his tongue, and for a moment, you wondered if he would give you the satisfaction of a compliment. His eyes softened ever so slightly, though he remained quiet, his usual reticent self.
Finally, after a thoughtful moment, Elrond spoke, his voice low and measured. “It is… pleasing,” he said, the words carefully chosen, his gaze still locked on you. “But I believe the true sweetness lies in your company.”
Your heart skipped a beat, his tone unexpectedly warm. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a warmth spread through you. “Well,” you teased, “I suppose I’ll take that as a compliment, Lord Elrond.”
He gave you one of his rare, fleeting smiles—enigmatic and almost imperceptible—but the sincerity behind it was unmistakable. “A rare one, for you,” he added, his voice carrying a hint of affection, though it was wrapped in his usual quiet poise.
You couldn’t resist. “I may need to feed you more often if I’m to hear more of these compliments, my lord.”
Elrond, as always, remained composed, but there was a soft glint in his eyes that made it clear he had appreciated your light-heartedness—if only for a moment.
Glorfindel
You watched as Glorfindel took a seat, the soft glow of the fire casting a warm light on his features. There was something about his presence that made everything seem brighter—his golden hair catching the light, his easy smile, and that warm energy that radiated from him like the sun itself.
“Glorfindel,” you called softly, the dish in front of you nearly ready. “Hey, will you try this for me, please?”
He looked up, raising an eyebrow in curiosity, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “What is it this time? Something I can’t resist?”
You smiled, holding up a spoon of steaming porridge. It wasn’t just any porridge, though—it was a special recipe you’d made, infused with berries, a touch of honey, and a dash of cinnamon. It was rich, comforting, and warm, much like the way Glorfindel made you feel whenever he was near.
“Open,” you said playfully, moving the spoon closer to his lips.
Glorfindel chuckled softly, glancing at the spoon, and then back to you. “Is this some sort of test, my friend? You’ve been known to challenge me before.”
You didn’t answer, just grinned and held the spoon steady.
“Very well,” he sighed dramatically, a mock pout pulling at his lips. “If I must…” And with that, he opened his mouth, letting you feed him the bite.
The moment the flavor hit his tongue, his eyes widened, and for a split second, he looked completely taken aback. “Well, I didn’t expect that,” he murmured, reaching for the spoon with an exaggerated air of seriousness, though his lips were still curved in amusement. “This… this is good. Too good, perhaps. Are you sure you didn’t sneak in a little magic?”
You shrugged, feigning innocence. “A little bit of magic, maybe. But mostly just love… and a lot of honey.”
Glorfindel laughed heartily, his golden laughter ringing through the room like music. “A dish made with affection,” he teased. “How can I refuse?”
“Will you eat the rest?” you asked, handing him the bowl.
“Of course,” he replied, taking the bowl from you. “But I may require a second helping to ensure I am not mistaken about its excellence.” He winked, taking another bite and making an exaggerated hum of appreciation.
Your heart fluttered at the playful moment, the light teasing between you two feeling like something more. “I’m glad you liked it,” you said softly, watching as he polished off the rest of the food with a satisfied sigh.
Glorfindel set the bowl aside and leaned back, his gaze softening. “You are truly a marvel, my friend. Not just with your words, but with your cooking as well. You have my loyalty forever, if only for the meals you provide.”
You grinned. “Then I suppose I’ll just have to keep feeding you, won’t I?”
“Oh, if you insist,” he replied with another laugh, the warmth between you both settling in like a familiar, comforting embrace.
And in that moment, as he smiled at you, you couldn’t help but feel that, yes, this was a kind of magic all its own.
Haldir
You stood in front of Haldir, your excitement bubbling over as you presented the dish you had spent hours perfecting. The warm, sweet scent of roasted root vegetables and spiced honey filled the air, mingling with the slight tang of fresh herbs. You could barely contain your grin as you stirred the concoction one final time in the pot.
“Haldir,” you said, practically bouncing on your toes, “Will you try this for me, please?”
His brows furrowed in suspicion as he looked down at the spoon you were holding out, but he didn’t refuse. The glint in your eyes told him this was a request he could not decline.
You slowly moved the spoon closer to his lips, your voice soft but commanding. “Open.”
He hesitated for only a fraction of a moment before parting his lips, the look in his eyes one of mild curiosity mixed with uncertainty. As the spoon hovered just inches from his mouth, he studied you with a raised brow, a quiet challenge in his gaze.
“Do not make me regret this,” he murmured, though there was a trace of amusement in his tone.
With a grin, you fed him the bite, watching intently as he tasted it. Haldir’s expression remained neutral for a long, agonizing second, and you held your breath. Then, he swallowed, his lips pursing slightly as he considered the flavor.
“It’s… interesting,” he said at last, voice measured but with a hint of something faintly approving. “What is it?”
You were already beaming, pleased that he hadn’t immediately recoiled. “Roasted root vegetables with a honey and herb glaze. It’s a recipe I wanted to try.”
Haldir gave a small, approving nod, his face softening for just a moment as he dipped his head. “Not bad, for a mortal dish.”
“You know, you can say you like it,” you teased, taking the spoon back. “It won’t kill you.”
He gave you a side glance, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Perhaps. But I am still uncertain of this… ‘mortal’ food.”
“You don’t know what you’re missing,” you laughed, offering him another bite. “Come on, just one more for the sake of science.”
Haldir raised an eyebrow, then sighed. “You will be the death of me,” he muttered, but he allowed you to feed him another bite. His reaction this time was slightly more positive, his lips quirking in a rare, reluctant smile.
“Fine,” he said, leaning back. “I suppose it’s not entirely terrible.”
Lindir
You had spent the afternoon in the kitchen, experimenting with a new recipe that you were sure would impress Lindir. You had crafted a delicate blend of spices and herbs, preparing a savory dish with a hint of sweetness—a roasted root vegetable puree with a dash of honey and rosemary, topped with toasted nuts for a little crunch. It was simple, but you were certain it was perfect.
Lindir was lounging by the fire, absorbed in his lute, the soft hum of the strings filling the room. You watched him for a moment, smiling to yourself, before moving toward him with the spoon, the dish balanced carefully in your hand.
“Hey, will you try this for me, please?” you asked sweetly, already moving the spoon closer to his lips. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, the faintest glint of curiosity in his gaze.
“Try what?” he asked, brow furrowed, though he didn’t pull away. You could see the wariness on his face—he knew you well enough to recognize that this was no ordinary request.
“It’s something I made,” you said, teasing him with a grin. “I promise it’s not poisonous.” You hovered the spoon a little closer, maintaining that playful glint in your eyes.
Lindir shifted his weight, sighing dramatically as if he were about to indulge you, though you saw the tiny twitch of a smile on his lips. “Very well,” he said with an exaggerated sigh, leaning slightly forward. “But I expect a full report on what I am about to ingest.”
You smirked. “I’ll consider it an honor. Now, open.”
There was the briefest hesitation before his lips parted, just a fraction, enough for you to slide the spoon inside. As soon as he tasted the puree, his eyebrows shot up, and his eyes widened ever so slightly.
“Well?” you prompted, unable to hide the eager anticipation from your voice.
He chewed thoughtfully, the taste seeming to settle on his tongue as he processed the flavors. For a brief moment, he seemed lost in it, his usual composure slipping just enough to reveal a flicker of surprise.
“Hmm,” he finally said, wiping his lips with the back of his hand, “it’s unexpected. But… not unpleasant.” His voice was laced with amusement, though there was still a note of genuine intrigue beneath his words. “I must admit, you have caught me off guard.”
You leaned in, grinning widely. “Caught you off guard? I’m glad I’m not entirely predictable.”
He rolled his eyes, though the smile that tugged at his lips betrayed his amusement. “You are nothing if not persistent. And insufferable.”
“Oh, come now,” you said, pretending to be wounded. “I just wanted to share something delightful with you.”
Lindir’s eyes narrowed playfully as he tilted his head. “Delightful, indeed. If a little… adventurous.”
“You like it,” you teased, eyes twinkling.
“I did not say that.” He raised an eyebrow, though you could see the faint glint of affection in his gaze, despite his usually cool demeanor. “But I will give you credit. You do have a talent for surprises.”
“Not just a talent,” you shot back. “I have a gift.”
“Hmm,” he murmured, clearly humoring you, though there was no denying the fondness in his voice as he continued to watch you with a mixture of bemusement and quiet admiration.
