After Today's Episode I Needed This

I’ve Got You (Elrond Peredhel, Rings of Power) – S1 Ep7

Author’s note: Technically Elrond x OC, but could be a reader insert if you block out the OC’s name 😉; she’s the daughter of Gil-galad and Princess of Lindon, Eleniel, she had gone to Eregion with Elrond earlier in the season; I write better with named characters (so I write with OCs); italic phases with “S.” denote the use of Sindarin, while “Q.” denotes the use of Quenya

Eleniel paced the floor of Celebrimbor’s forges anxiously as she waited for her husband to return. It had been days since Elrond left for Khazad-dûm, hoping to pay a visit to his friend, the Dwarven prince Durin. At least, that’s what Elrond told her.

Eleniel couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something would go wrong. Every second spent delving deeper into the recesses of her mind was another moment spent pacing in the forges. Someone cleared his throat behind her, snapping her out of her reverie.

“You’re going to wear a hole in my floor, ingaranel nin (S. my princess),” Celebrimbor mused, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He wiped his brow before running a hand through his brown curls. “It’s Elrond, isn’t it? You worry for him.”

“Yes, Lord Celebrimbor,” Eleniel admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “I know he’s just visiting Durin, but I can’t shake this feeling that I have. It’s not a good one.” Her blue eyes filled with tears, but she bit her lip, refusing to let them fall. The smith sighed before moving to stand by her side, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I know you care for him, but all this worry…it’s not good for you. Look, you haven’t stopped pacing. I’m sure the young Peredhel wouldn’t want you to worry about him like this.”

“Well, he’s a hypocrite then, isn’t he?” Eleniel laughed, her voice hollow. “He wishes I do not concern myself about him, yet he keeps giving me reasons to worry.” Even till now, this was Elrond’s habit, and Eleniel only let him get away with it because of the adorable expression he’d flash at her every time she was about to admonish him.

“I suggest you take a break from pacing. Perhaps the view of Ost-in-Edhil from my study would do you well?” Celebrimbor suggested, already walking away and gesturing for Eleniel to follow. She did, the hem of her pale blue gown flowing behind her and sweeping the ground like leaves.

Celebrimbor was right, Eleniel told herself. At this time of day, Ost-in-Edhil was bustling with activity. The light of the setting sun bathed everything before her in hues of pink and gold. Truly, the capital city of Eregion was splendid.  Eleniel’s hands gripped the cool railing of the balcony, her eyes following the elves milling about below. Two elven children looked up at her, waving and flashing excited smiles, and she waved back, gracing them with a smile of her own.

Just then, a flicker of activity just not too far away from where the children had stood caught her eye. A figure approached the gates of Ost-in-Edhil, cloaked in what was supposed to be white, but his clothes were matted with dirt. Eleniel’s heart caught in her throat as she gazed at the figure.

Elrond was back.

Without a second thought, Eleniel turned and ran out of Celebrimbor’s study and down the stairs until she had reached the ground floor. She pushed open the heavy wooden doors to the forge tower, not caring as they slammed behind her. Running as fast as her feet would take her, she finally made it to the gates. The guards, recognising her, let her pass.

Eleniel threw her arms around Elrond, burying her face in the crook of his neck. “You’re home, meldanya (Q. my beloved), you’re home,” she murmured, her voice low enough only for his ears. When she pulled apart to gaze into those grey eyes she loved so much, she found them full of tears. “Elrond?” Eleniel asked, confused. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m such a failure, ingaranel nin,” Elrond sniffled, hastily wiping his eyes, but more tears came. “I was so close! We could’ve gotten the mithril needed to save elvenkind, but…but I…”

“It’s okay, Elrond,” Eleniel said soothingly. Her hand cupped his face, her thumb wiping soot from his cheeks. She knew what had happened. Her sunshine had tried his best, but the dwarven king, Prince Durin’s father, had forbade any further mining for mithril. She’d suspected that the dwarven king would respond as such, but never did she expect that he would throw her beloved out like that.

Elrond sobbed silently. Eleniel grabbed his shoulders gently and steered them away from the gates. “Hush, Elrond, you did your best. No one will blame you, you tried,” Eleniel said softly, pulling her husband down to her height to kiss his forehead.

“I failed, Eleniel,” Elrond said, his voice devoid of any emotion. “Now the elves will fade, all because of me.” He fished something out of his pocket, a small ore that gleamed in the light of the setting sun. “Durin gave me this, a small mithril ore. Such a small piece for all elvenkind, how can it even help?”

“It helps more than you know, Elrond,” Eleniel smiled at him, the kind of smile Elrond loved to see. “Celebrimbor will find a way, I’m sure of it. He’s only the best smith in all Middle-earth. How could he not?”

“The High King entrusted me with this,” Elrond sniffled once more, tears streaming silently down his face. “I failed him. How can I face him?”

“Listen to me, husband.” Eleniel’s voice was firm. Her fingers wiped the tears from his face, before brushing one of his brown curls behind his pointed ear. “You’ve done your best, and I’ll see to it that my father knows so. No one can blame you for King Durin’s response.” She hugged Elrond tight, and he returned her embrace, pressing a kiss into her fragrant hair. “Truly?” Elrond pulled away just enough to look into Eleniel’s blue eyes.

She nodded. “I’ve got you, Elrond. I’ve got you.”

I have a lot of feelings about Ereinion Gil-galad Last High King of the Noldor

i need someone to send me fanarts of will fletcher finrod STAT

“The most important truths often are (simple)” - Finrod

Here’s a simple sketch of Finrod Felagund as seen in Rings of Power! He’s the eldest son of Finarfin and brother to Galadriel. Honestly, no one talks about him (or sketches him) enough. Great job to Will Fletcher for portraying him.

one of my favourite lords

One more Journey concept art. It’s a sketch of Penlod’s character, the lord of two Houses of legendary Gondolin. He is both a builder and a linguist. As they speak, if you read you must build a library.

Okay, so I've also gotten results from my Insta followers, and I'm gonna do a final poll to let y'all decide!

I want to write a Silmarillion fic. I love romance stories so it will be centered around a Silm elf and an OC! Comment which elf you think I should write about.

Fingolfin Feanor

HC:

Feanor does not like Fingolfin but it was not as bad in the past, I’d say he doesn’t rly want to mess with children plus if he was asked about what he was good at. Their relationship probably went downhill as Fingolfin grows older

pure as starlight

maedhros' cloak

Threads of Fate Chapters 25 and 26

Find Chapters 23 and 24 HERE

Notes: These are the final two chapters for this ending! The Celebrimbor girlies on Ao3 requested that I write an alternate ending where reader chooses Celebrimbor instead of Gil-galad. I plan to release the alternate ending as one looooong chapter, that way you can choose your own adventure this fic!

Chapter 25: The Morning After

The soft light of morning streamed through the curtains, casting gentle patterns on the walls of your chambers. You stirred, gradually becoming aware of the world around you. The warmth of the blankets enveloped you, providing a comforting cocoon that made it difficult to leave the realm of dreams.

As you opened your eyes fully, your gaze landed on Gil-galad, who was seated at your desk, sipping tea. He looked relaxed yet regal, his long hair falling carelessly over his shoulders. The sight of him brought back a rush of memories from the night before, and your heart raced at the thought.

You and Gil-galad exchanged shy glances, the air charged with unspoken words and lingering emotions. A faint blush crept across your cheeks as you recalled the vows you had exchanged and the passion that had ignited between you.

“Good morning,” he said softly, his voice warm and inviting, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Good morning,” you replied, your voice still thick with sleep. You sat up slowly, the blankets slipping down to your waist, and you couldn’t help but notice how his gaze lingered on you.

He smiled, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “I hope you don’t mind. I made myself at home.” He gestured to the steaming cup in his hand. “I thought it best to let you rest.”

You chuckled lightly, your nerves easing a bit. “I appreciate it. It’s nice to wake up to a familiar face.”

With a gentle smile, he stood and approached the bed, placing the cup on the bedside table. “Eleanior came looking for you while you were sleeping,” he said. “She wanted to know if you’d meet her at the forge. She was quite nervous about spending the day with Celebrimbor.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of Celebrimbor, but to your surprise, you felt none of the intense emotions that had once overwhelmed you. Instead, there was a calmness, a clarity that hadn’t been there before.

“The forge?” you echoed, gathering your thoughts. “Oh right, yes. Celebrimbor had invited her to see it today.” You groaned loudly at the thought of telling Celebrimbor what had happened.

You and Gil-galad sat in silence for a moment before he spoke again. “I know you’re nervous about speaking to Lord Celebrimbor regarding everything that has transpired since dinner last night. Would you like me to join you?”

You shook your head. “No, I think it’s best if I see him alone.”

Gil-galad gave your hand a supportive squeeze and smiled. “With any luck, his connection to you will have begun to diminish. He’s an honorable man; I’m sure he will take the news in stride.”

You took a steadying breath as you approached the forge, the sounds of hammering and the warm glow of the fire growing stronger with each step. Anticipation bubbled within you, mingling with the remnants of nerves that lingered from the morning.

As you entered the forge, the heat washed over you, enveloping you in its embrace. Before you could gather your thoughts, Eleanior spotted you from across the room. Her face lit up with excitement as she dashed toward you, her hair flowing behind her like a golden banner.

“You made it!” she exclaimed, nearly bouncing on her toes. “The forge is incredible! I’ve learned so much already.”

You couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. “I’m glad to hear that! What have you been learning?”

Eleanior’s eyes sparkled as she began to recount her experiences. “The way Celebrimbor works is fascinating! He moves with such purpose and skill. I had no idea that crafting could be so… captivating.” She glanced over her shoulder at Celebrimbor, a dreamy expression crossing her face. “And he looks so attractive when he’s focused like this.”

You let out a childlike giggle at her remark. “You silly, lovesick elf!” you teased.

“Could you aid me with a remedy? Do you have something in the healer's pantry for love-sickness?” she snickered.

You both stood there giggling for a moment when you suddenly realized that the jealousy you had felt toward Eleanior’s attraction to Celebrimbor was gone.

“He showed me how to shape metal today, and I think I might have a knack for it!” Eleanior exclaimed, her hands animatedly mimicking the motions she had learned. “You have to see what he’s creating. It’s breathtaking!”

Before you could respond, Celebrimbor turned, catching sight of you both. His expression shifted to one of warmth, and he set down his tools, wiping his hands on a cloth before approaching.

As you engaged in conversation with Eleanior and Celebrimbor, you couldn’t help but notice a flicker of something in his gaze—a subtle confusion that danced beneath his calm exterior. When he looked at you, there was an intensity that seemed muted, as if the storm of emotions he had once felt had settled into a gentle breeze.

You caught him glancing at you from the corner of his eye, his brow furrowing slightly, as if he were trying to reconcile the absence of the overwhelming pull that had once drawn him to you. In those fleeting moments, you sensed a hidden struggle within him, a questioning of why the connection felt different now.

When the conversation lulled, you cleared your throat and spoke. “Celebrimbor,” you began, your voice steady but soft, “could I speak with you for a few moments… privately?”

Eleanior looked between the two of you, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. “I’ll head back to the forge to continue my project,” she said, a bright smile on her face. “Don’t take too long! There’s more I want to show you!”

His expression shifted slightly, concern evident in his eyes. He gestured toward a quieter corner of the forge, where the sounds of hammering faded into the background.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of your words pressing against your chest. “Celebrimbor, I wanted to talk about last night,” you began, your voice slightly trembling.

He nodded, his expression attentive, encouraging you to continue. “After our dinner, Gil-galad and I talked.” You paused, trying to choose your words carefully. “I told him everything that has happened between you and me these last few months.”

“Everything?” Celebrimbor questioned.

“Yes, everything. Don’t worry, he’s not angry. But I…” Your voice trailed off.

“You what?” he asked, stepping closer to you.

“I couldn’t stand the confusion and extreme emotions anymore. I needed quiet. I needed to be in control of my feelings again. Miroden discovered that soulmates don’t have to choose each other for the yearning to subside.” You smiled weakly at him.

“I don’t understand what you’re saying,” he whispered.

You reached out and took both of his hands in yours. “Do you feel that?”

Celebrimbor's eyes widened at the realization. “I don’t… I don’t feel anything,” he stammered, swallowing hard.

“Exactly. We are both free. Free from the yearning. Free to make our own choices. Celebrimbor, I can’t even begin to express how grateful I am to you. You’ve made my time in Eregion so special.”

“But how? Where did our connection go?” he asked, bewildered.

“Miroden's research revealed that if one or both of the pair marries another, the connection will break. The pain, the yearning—all of it will diminish. A mercy given to us by Eru. Last night, Gil-galad and I became husband and wife.” You braced yourself for Celebrimbor's reaction, unsure of how he would respond.

To your surprise, he began to chuckle.

“Why is that funny?” you asked incredulously.

He let out a huge sigh of relief and smiled. “Our connection, while it persisted, was nothing short of bliss. My attraction to you was like sun on black cloth. I was aflame with desire in your presence, consumed by it. It was wonderful, and I would have been very happy to have you all to myself forever… but the thought of taking you from the High King filled me with dread.” He admitted. “I knew our union would create a rift between Lindon and Eregion.”

You smirked. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

Celebrimbor smiled. “Well, all I could do was think about it—about you, about us. But I am happy for you, truly.”

“Thank you for everything,” you said as you released Celebrimbor's hands and took a step back.

Eleanior approached, her expression animated. “Excuse me, sorry to interrupt!” she said, her voice bright but apologetic. “Could you help me with something, Lord Celebrimbor? Which tool would you suggest I use to sharpen this edge?” She held out a small metal spear she had been crafting.

“It’s quite alright, Eleanior, you’re not interrupting. We've finished.” You looked down at her spear and smiled. “Wow, have you crafted this yourself?” You were astonished by her talent.

Eleanior blushed at your praise. “Lord Celebrimbor helped,” she said shyly.

“Not that much! You have a real knack for metalwork,” Celebrimbor assured her.

You glanced between Celebrimbor and Eleanior, sensing a budding admiration between them.

“Well, I must go and find Gil-galad. We need to plan for our journey back to Lindon.”

“Leaving so soon?” Celebrimbor asked. “Surely you can stay a bit longer, given the circumstances.”

“Thank you for your hospitality, Celebrimbor, but we have a wedding to plan.” You tried to convey to him not to reveal too much in front of Eleanior. “We are not yet wed.” You punctuated each word with a sharp tone.

“Ah! Right!… The wedding… your wedding… the royal wedding… of course! You're not married yet.” Celebrimbor spoke clumsily, trying to mask the mistake he'd made.

“Are you okay? Perhaps you are in need of a break; you've been working hard since the early hours,” Eleanior asked with concern.

Celebrimbor gave a nervous laugh. “Yes… perhaps you're right, Eleanior. I could use a break.”

“I could accompany you to the tavern for lunch if you'd like?” Eleanior said, trembling slightly.

Celebrimbor gave her a warm smile. “I’d like that very much. Let me grab my jacket, and we can walk down there together.”

As soon as Celebrimbor turned his back, Eleanior let out a silent scream of joy and grabbed your arms. “Is this really happening?!” She was shaking with excitement.

You pulled Eleanior into a tight hug and whispered into her ear, “If he sees even a fraction of what I see in you, he’ll be head over heels by nightfall.”

“Thank you!” she replied softly, pulling back to meet your gaze. “Now go and find Gil-galad! The poor man has been sulking ever since you left Lindon.”

You both stood there giggling again, and the joy that washed over you was almost overwhelming. Your eyes began to well up.

“Oh, are you crying? What’s the matter?” Eleanior asked, concern etched on her face.

You smiled brightly. “Nothing is wrong. These are tears of immense, overwhelming joy.” You pulled Eleanior into another hug and whispered, “I’ll see you later. I can’t wait to hear about your lunch with Celebrimbor.”

Is anyone free to discuss the new Rings of Power episode with me? There's just so much to unpack and too many emotions. You can directly message me or comment and I'll message you if you want to.

Help greatly appreciated!

(i don't even know what to feel after today...)

Hello ✨I hope you are doing well)You can request Glorfindel (if you are not writing for him, then Gil Galad/Celebrimbor/Eonwe. For whomever you feel more comfortable🤗)Some light melancholy with the atmosphere of the phrase "In a room full of the best works of art, I would still look at you." The reader says this to the elf and calms his worries and insecurities.Reader Maiar Namo.I want to surround these elves with maximum comfort, support and strong hugs🥹🫶🏻English is not my native language, I apologize in advance for mistakes😅

Work of Art (Glorfindel x female Maia of Mandos)

Glorfindel had a hard time adjusting to the Halls of Mandos. He had been there since the Fall of Gondolin, and he had to come to terms with dying, since he had been raised to believe that the lives of the Eldar were eternal, that they wouldn't end.

Yet, here he was, in the halls of the dead. He had a hard time accepting his new reality, but there was one who made it easier.

Nolwendë, she was called, the lady of wisdom. A Maia of Mandos, an ethereal being. Her alabaster skin shone even in the gloom. Her hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall. When he had first laid eyes on her, his only thought was: she's beautiful. As time went by, however, she became so much more than that.

In Glorfindel's view, she saw far beneath the surface of his thoughts. In her presence, he always felt that she understood him better than any other ever had. And so he found himself spilling his thoughts and confiding in her, even more so than to his close friend Ecthelion of the Fountain.

"You're deep in thought, Laurë," Nolwendë noted. "What troubles your mind so?"

"It is nothing," Glorfindel sighed, though he knew it was pointless to hide his thoughts from her. In truth, he had felt this way for a while now, the feeling of not being enough. Especially in the Halls of Mandos, where the souls of elves far greater than he rested.

Why did she keep coming back to him, when there were other souls she could have tended to? He could understand why she stayed away from the sons of Fëanor, but what about Fingon the Valiant? What about Finrod Felagund? Why him?

"Your mind wanders far," she spoke softly as she walked, almost like a glide, up to him, her fingers reaching to trace his jaw. "You're tense."

"Why do you stick with me?"

Her grey eyes widened, and Glorfindel stared into their depths, mesmerised by the ethereal colour of her irises. "Why I stick with you?" she murmured.

"Your thoughts are fascinating, for one," she replied. "You've had an interesting life, crossing the Helcaraxë to Middle-earth, living in Nevrast and finally Gondolin."

She reached out and caught one of his long gold locks in her hand, playing with his hair. "You have beautiful hair, and its radiance far outshines that of Fingon or Finrod..."

"But the most beautiful thing, Glorfindel the Golden, is your soul," she finally looked at him, her eyes boring into his. "You're thoughtful, kind, compassionate. To me, those qualities matter far more than anything superficial."

She shifts to lean her forehead against his back, her arms coming to encircle him. "In a room full of the best works of art, I would still look at you. You're beautiful, in every way possible. Your heart is as golden as your hair."

She presses a kiss to his forehead, which elicited a small smile from him. "You're precious to me, Laurë, and that's all that matters. Until the end of time, I will look at you."

"Even if the Valar choose to return you to Middle-earth, I will go with you. I will never leave you, never leave your side."

Her lips curved gently upwards. "Because I love you, Laurë. And you're the most precious to me. Don't you ever forget that."

Bonus: Glorfindel brags to everyone he encounters in the Halls of Mandos, and later when he gets re-embodied, that the Maia of Mandos loves him