Their Heads Moved In Sync, Same Direction At The Exact Same Time!!!

Stressful Night (Ereinion Gil-galad, Rings of Power)

Author’s note: Itarille Peredhel is Gil-galad’s queen, and she’s Elrond’s sister. In this story, she’s bothered by a lot more work than usual, a much heavier workload. Gil is the supportive and affectionate husband behind closed doors, a comfort for her. (“Q.”  is meant to denote the use of Quenya, while “S.” denotes the use of Sindarin)

TW: Blood (from a paper cut wound)

Sighing internally, Itarille picked up her quill for the umpteenth time that day and signed the proffered document with a flourish. “Send it to King Oropher,” she spoke, exhaustion evident in her voice. “Make it hasty, or I’ll be receiving a host of complaints from the Greenwood again.”

“Yes, High Queen,” the messenger nodded before dashing out of the room, his feet barely making any sound. For that, at least, Itarille was thankul. She turned her attention to the next document, smiling as she read the elegant script. At least this one was from Elrond, about some matters he’d noticed while going about his duties as Herald of Lindon. She set it aside, deciding that it would be better to allow the High King to read about it as well before passing judgement.

Ah. The High King. Itarille had been so busy that she hadn’t been able to spend time with her husband the entire day, save for breakfast. He had headed out to the Grey Havens to speak with Círdan the Shipwright, and was absent from the palace for most of the day. He’d only recently returned, and from what his assistant, Estedir, had told her, the High King was thoroughly wiped out. She had spent her day taking up his duties at the palace, in addition to her own.

Smiling wryly, Itarille reached for another document. As she reached out to grab it, a sharp pain shot up the tip of her finger. Hissing, Itarille pulled her hand away, only to find a bleeding paper cut. Biting her lip to prevent herself from crying out in frustration, Itarille decided to look for the first aid kit. Alas, she’d forgotten to bring it back to her study after using it a few weeks ago.

She had had enough. With the mounting pile of documents on her desk, and the concern that Oropher of the Greenwood would have another complaint about her reply to him, Itarille had been driven mad. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions, unsure of what exactly she was feeling at the moment. She stood up from her chair and told the guard standing outside the door that she would be leaving the night. With a respectful murmur of “High Queen” from the guard, Itarille strode briskly down the hallway, the hem of her gown trailing behind her.

It didn’t take long for her to reach the quarters she shared with her beloved High King. She stepped inside, cautious of remaining silent in case he was asleep. She had assumed he was asleep, and the sight of him standing by the window, staring at the starry sky above surprised her.

“Melda (Q. beloved),” Ereinion’s smooth voice called out. He walked towards her, intending to give her a kiss. His attention, however, was drawn to the drop of blood falling from the tip of her finger and dripping against the marble floors. It was soft, but he heard the sound as the drop made contact with the marble. “What happened?”

“Paper cut,” Itarille huffed. “I need a bath, can we discuss this later?” Ereinion was taken aback by the intensity in her voice. She shot him a brief glare before heading to her closet to grab a robe and walking to the adjacent chamber to take a bath.

When Itarille emerged, she was clothed in a white nightgown. In Ereinion’s opinion, a vision, like Varda herself. He rose from their shared bed, reaching out towards her to grasp her hand. “You’ve dealt with the wound, I see,” he spoke glancing briefly at the bandage on her finger.”

“I have,” Itarille said. “Can we go to bed now? I’m exhausted. It’s been such a long day.”

Ereinion was about to nod, when he saw the look in her eyes. It was one he hated seeing, the look of utter defeat. “What happened today, my starlight?” He murmured, gently easing her into bed and pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

“I prefer not to talk about it.” Itarille sniffed. Ereinion almost laughed out loud internally; he knew his wife was a hypocrite when it came to matters like this. Sooner or later, everything would spill forth from her perfect lips.

“You know, Oropher sent another message today. He wanted me to sign it and send it back to the Greenwood the same day it arrived,” she said. “And your courtiers, they just won’t get off my back. Insufferable, the lot of them!”

Ereinion allowed himself a small chuckle. “Ah, but you’ve been handling it with such grace, my darling. Isn’t that right?”

“That’s an understatement,” she replied huffily. “There, I’ve told you everything. Can we go to bed now?”

The High King smiled briefly, lying back in bed and opening his arms to her. Itarille snuggled up to him, her head on his chest. She heard the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as she traced her fingers along his arm. “Yes, we can, my love,” Ereinion leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. “You’ve done so much for me today, helping to take over my palace duties. I cannot thank you enough.”

Itarille’s patience was almost worn out. “Thank me by sealing your lips shut and letting me get some sleep. Shh!” The High King smirked. “You want to shut me up? Why don’t you do it yourself?”

There was a daring gleam in his eyes. Itarille knew exactly what he wanted, but her need for sleep was more pressing. She picked up a pillow and threw it at his face. “Goodnight, High King. Go to bed.” The last thing she recalled hearing before drifting into slumber was the soft laughter of Ereinion.

Her silly High King.

Author's note: Wow, churning out two fics in one day! I'm pleasantly surprised, but Elrond and Gil-galad are my comfort elves.

i'm glad he's alive

Thinking about how VOROHIL FOUND A LADY VOROHIL TO HANG OUT WITH

Love thrives in Middle Earth despite it all

Him and the Eregion soldier lady both

Best believe this guy is going to take season 3 personally 😂

Elrond setting an orc on fire for desecrating the lore might be the hottest thing he’s ever done.

references from celebrimbor's life ( part 1 / 2 )

the chain that was use to held celebrimbor captive was not a regular chain that can be cut through. it was a special chain that was crafted by sauron, in which the durability surpass all the materials that could break it. maedhros, celebrimbor's uncle, was hanged by one of this device, and the only way to free yourself from the bond is by cutting a part of your flesh.

celebrimbor

Three Rings for the Elven-kings

Comment ROP theories for Ep 8 below! I’m busy and I won’t be able to watch the episode until much later at night. I wanna be entertained by your theories.

adorable

haven | celebrimbor

look ma! something happy for once!

if you haven't caught on yet, i've been writing these oneshots with the intention of them to (hopefully) be read in a particular order -> if you want to get pieces of the rest of the story, please read.. (there are PLENTY more coming)

Set before S2

Ease -> First(s) (coming soon, will probably be a drabble..) -> Haven (this one!) -> Nightmare -> Wash Away The Blood

prompt: Celebrimbor takes you just outside of Eregion to a hidden pool for your first date. Not one Elf but him knows about it as it has been a haven since Eregion's foundations were laid.

tag: @pentaghasm (you know exactly why) -> @celebrimbormylove

***

You're almost positive you've heard him wrong. It's only been a matter of days since you'd shared that kiss on the balcony, and now it seems as if he's asking you - in the presence of his smiths, nonetheless - to meet him tomorrow for something he's calling a ''morning commitment.''

It's fortunate for you that you've come to know that Celebrimbor is a terrible liar.

Apparently, commitment means date.

"Good morning, nin tinu," His voice draws your attention away from your morning cup of tea as he steps out onto the balcony. Ever since he kissed you out here mere days before, you've made a habit of coming out here before the sun rises to hear the kingfishers. "For someone who prefers to rise with the late morning sun, you are up early."

"That's because someone has been occupying my thoughts," You tease. You run a teasing finger around the rim of your teacup as his cheeks flush pink. "And I've come to enjoy the sound of the kingfishers. You've given me yet another thing to appreciate about your city."

"It will eventually be our city." Celebrimbor remarks. The two of you lean against the railing simultaneously and sip at your tea. While your thoughts are consumed by the implications of his statement, he's trying to figure out how to properly ask you to follow him out of the city so he can follow through on his ''commitment."

Celebrimbor blinks in confusion as you run a tender thumb across the furrow of his brow. "You do that when you're too deep in thought," You remark softly. "Is something wrong?"

"I have decided to take the day off from the forge today. It is a beautiful day, and I wish to spend it with you." Celebrimbor said. "However, the other smiths believe me to be following through on a prior commitment I made to you. They just believe it is regarding the weapon you asked me to craft."

"And what is it really in regards to?"

"I have something I'd like to show you outside of the city. It requires several hours worth of time. Would you like to accompany me?"

There's so much hope in those kind eyes. You'd never deny Celebrimbor, not when he's so earnest and open with you, but something about the way he's looking at you says that he's eager. This is something precious to him that he does not wish to share with anyone else.

You smile and nod. "When do we leave?"

***

The place in question that Celebrimbor leads you to a few hours later is nothing short of a haven: The swimming hole that lies before you is breathtaking. Celebrimbor has taken your hand where you stand on the edge of the ledge before you, a ledge that dips just enough for one to propel themselves off the edge and into waters below.

The trees shroud the watering hole from unsuspecting eyes.

"This has been here since before Eregion's creation," Celebrimbor says lowly in your ear, hands wandering to rest against your sides as you lean into his chest. "I have not shown it to another soul. It is... my haven."

You hum softly in acknowledgment as he presses a kiss to the junction of your shoulder that has your toes curling in your boots.

"And tell me," You reply. "Why is it a haven for you?"

"Because even amid all the turmoil that has been in my life," He does not look at the water as he speaks, but rather at you, because Celebrimbor is confident that every word rings true for the person who has become his true haven. A haven is a place of refuge, after all. "I'm reminded of the existence of beautiful things."

You go silent for several minutes. It's been such a long time since you've been this close to the water - as your last experience was when the sailors of Eregion pulled you out of the sea when you fell - and you're hesitant to tell him that you're not quite confident of your abilities in swimming.

"And what does one do in the presence of such beauty?" You peel yourself away from him and cross your arms to remove your tunic, revealing the underclothes you'd chosen for the occasion. They were meant to withstand water. "Hm?"

You bend to remove your boots.

Celebrimbor immediately feels his mouth go dry. The last time this had happened, he had been the one unclothed in front of you.

"My clothes are much more confining than yours, my love," He muses weakly. "I may need more help getting out of them."

The late morning sunlight glints against your hair as you step forward to meet him, fingers wrapping around the fabric of your favorite set of red robes as he lifts his arms and the robe comes off. He too is wearing appropriate small clothes to withstand water.

If his mouth went dry, your mouth is the equivalent of the desert. He is a sight to behold.

"I'm sorry," It's rare for you to lose your carefully crafted composure, especially in front of him, but Celebrimbor finds himself endlessly entertained as you reach out a hand and press it into the divot of his chest. "I know I have technically seen this before, but you hide this all the time?"

"My eyes are up here, my love," Celebrimbor teases. Laughter echoes against the trees as he lowers his gaze to where now both of your hands rest against his chest. "Come. Let's enjoy this time."

***

It takes Celebrimbor far longer than he cares to admit to realize you are afraid.

After taking the initiative to wade out toward the waterfall, he had been expecting you to follow him. What Celebrimbor found once he turned around was you lingering in the sand. It was evident from the unease written across your face that you were afraid to move forward.

"Are you coming?" He calls in question, clearly confused.

"I..."

Your eyes find him across the pool. He's truly the most handsome man you have ever seen, but you are most transfixed by his eyes. Celebrimbor's eyes are his most attractive quality. You could spend hours upon hours studying them: The flecks of brown held within the deep hazel that seems to go on forever, holding centuries upon centuries of kindness that so often is overlooked.

The words pour from your lips before you can halt them. You are almost embarrassed that they're spoken at all. "The last time I was in water such as this was when your sailors found me in the sea. I was terrified. This-"

"I will not let you drown," Celebrimbor says softly as he emerges from the water, droplets trailing down his chest to disappear at his waist and below. "I will not let anything happen to you. You know that."

The unspoken question of, "Do you trust me?" lingers in his words as Celebrimbor holds his hand out to you. You think that you could conquer any fear if he's there by your side to help combat it.

You'd rush into the front lines of an unwinnable war if he'd fight it alongside you.

Celebrimbor has never been a warrior. He's a crafter, a creator, someone who only uses his hands for goodness. Your hands... you don't even want to know what they've done.

You're determined to change the narrative. Even if you have committed things that you can't remember, the act of taking Celebrimbor's hand opens an entirely new possibility of only goodness.

You link your fingers and follow him into the water.

Celebrimbor's smile is well worth conquering your fear. "There you go," His voice is encouraging as he stops where the water touches both of your waists. He's taller than you here. "I'm proud of you, my love. I know conquering fears is hard."

Your eyes venture upward. Celebrimbor has pushed his hair back behind his ears with his fingers, but there's one singular curl hanging against his forehead.

You tilt your head and curl it around your finger.

"Is there a reward for conquering fears?" You ask innocently, batting your lashes up at the Elven Smith who only laughs in response. Celebrimbor has not asked to properly court you. Not yet, but you want him to.

To answer your question, Celebrimbor cups your face in his hands and lowers his mouth to kiss you. You sink against him with ease and press your fingers into his shoulders to grasp at him as he eases your legs around his waist and moves deeper into the pool to the waterfall.

You whine as his tongue curls around your own and licks into the warmth of your mouth. He's just as good with his mouth as he is with his hands.

"Your other reward?" Celebrimbor begins as the two of you slip just underneath the waterfall. You shriek, burying your head in his shoulder as he tightens his arms around your waist. "I am not sure about your reward, but the sound of your laughter and the lure of your mouth is such a satisfactory reward for me, my love."

Celebrimbor holds you there for what feels like years. You do not mind. You could spend the rest of your eternity here with him and be completely content.

"I want to move forward with proper elven courtship," You say softly into Celebrimbor's ear, pressing your nose against his temple as you play with the loose, damp curls at the nape of his neck. "But only if you wish the same."

Celebrimbor had been wishing the same since he first kissed you that night on his balcony with the whole of his own city as his witness. He knew you were still adapting, still learning a whole new life, and becoming a whole new you, and for that, he did not wish to impose his own feelings when you were still wrestling with your own.

He smiled and slowly twisted his body in the water, eyes watching as you eased yourself to float atop the pool and allowed him to hold you upright.

"I would like nothing more, nin tinu," Is all he can reply, helpless and at your total mercy as you throw your arms out and embrace your fears while your refuge keeps you contained within his embrace, unwilling to let you go. "and I thank you for coming with me."

***

Less than a week later, you awaken to a gift on your side table in your chambers. It is a pendant.

A pendant with a sun and holly leaf. There is a note underneath the pedant in Celebrimbor's handwriting that makes your stomach flutter.

A reminder, for you, of our beginning.

Not Elrond Peredhel looking at the orcs and going, "Wait, you can't burn the Library of Alexandria" while the others have blades to Gil-galad's throat.

That half elf has his priorities STRAIGHT.