Finarfin & Finrod

Explicit (slow burn, 18+ only) - Rings of Power - Gil-galad x OFC (Elf)

Includes S2E8 of Rings of Power - spoilers ahoy!

Gil-galad had only taken a handful of steps when his gaze passed over yet another collapsed building. From the looks of things, it had once been an open, airy shop that had faced directly into the plaza. The roof had caved in, creating dusty shadows, and even his keen eyes might have missed the slumped figure had he not heard the tiny whimper from the darkness.

Eregion has been destroyed; Sauron is gone. And yet, the sun still shines, as the ruined city holds the last thing that High King Gil-galad had ever expected to find.

Themes: #Idiots in love, #love at first sight, #soulmates, #smut with feelings, #fix-it, #everybody lives

Content Warnings: Explicit content eventually (slow burn), canon-typical violence

Part 1 (includes A/N and credits)

Part 2

He had no intention of doing so at all.

But those obligations never ceased.

No sooner had Gil-galad left Linnea’s side - looking back over his shoulder once and very nearly turning around again, seeing her standing there alone and uncertain - but that Elrond was back. They were drawn into a hasty conference with the surviving Lindon soldiers; he had to arrange defense for both what was left of Eregion, as they continued to search for survivors, and for the northern valley. They would all be spread too thin, but the valley was well-positioned. Along with the Elven rings, it would be enough.  

And they were modestly supplemented by Eregion’s forces as well, those that had made it through the battle. He sent two soldiers to Linnea; it was a diversion of resources that he could admit to himself would have been better spent elsewhere, but that beast inside him that had been awoken would not rest until it knew she was protected. If he could not stay close to her, warriors who had survived the siege were acceptable substitutes.    

And as the hours passed, as the sun crawled its way across the sky, as he left Eregion and rode north, and sat and waited for Galadriel to awaken, the certainty settled within him. 

He would court Linnea properly, he promised himself. She deserved that. But the conclusion of it was already as clear to him as day: this was his wife, this was his queen. He knew that with every fiber of his being, and yet, part of him still struggled to believe. 

He still wondered if he might wake up from this dream any moment. 

And he could only assume that Linnea felt the same; she had gone from the peace of Eregion to the tumult of battle to the loss of her family to finding her lifemate - who happened to be the High King of the Noldor - in a matter of days. The world had to feel as though it spun madly beneath her feet and she was moments away from falling.

He should do something about that. But it would have to wait, as Galadriel finally stirred.

As the sun set, the valley was full of stars. 

Golden stars, small campfires in the night, as the exhausted survivors finally found rest. Makeshift shelters had been erected, cobbled together from the army's supplies and what had been recovered from Eregion, and it would do well enough until the morning when they would leave for Lindon.

Some of them. Some would stay, under Elrond’s leadership. The valley was a promising place to raise a new stronghold, and it would be needed for the fights to come. Gil-galad had chosen the sword, but he would not neglect the shield; they would need to fortify their defenses as well as muster new offense. 

Linnea was seated on a small stool in front of one of the campfires as Gil-galad approached, watching a kettle that had been hung over the flames. He was glad to see that she was clean, and had found clothing as well - he suspected her own, recovered from the rubble. The simple dark blue dress fit her well, and the style suited her. 

There was much and more to do. But one task asserted itself over all else, as the camp grew quiet.  

She rose as he stepped into the circle of light, leaving his guard just outside it. His steps had been unerring; the soldier acting as quartermaster had been able to give him a basic location, but his feet had known where to go.

Or perhaps it was his heart. 

Her smile was beautiful as she saw him, and the Two Lamps could not have been brighter.

He couldn’t stop himself. He was at her side before he quite knew what he’d done, sliding his arms gently around her waist - and it was like drawing a young willow to himself, slender and supple, her body curving pliantly against him to fit with him perfectly. Her hands rested on his upper arms and he leaned his forehead down to meet hers and closed his eyes, and he wished that the moment might never end, that he might simply stay right there for the rest of eternity. 

“Linnea,” he whispered. “My lady.”

His lady, and he could tell she’d noticed. She pulled back slightly, making sure to meet his eyes, and murmured back to him. “My King.”

That pleased the great beast. 

He took her hands, bringing them to his lips for a more lingering kiss than that first time - a promise of what was to come, and a reminder that they were in this together. But even as he did, he kept his eyes on hers, hoping that they would say everything that he hadn’t had time for yet. 

“I have heard you are to depart in the morning,” she said quietly.

He nodded, keeping hold of her hands between them. “I leave at first light, with the bulk of our forces. We travel at speed to fortify Lindon. But there are those who will remain - those who are too injured to travel as yet, or those who will begin the work of building here. Many of the survivors of Eregion will stay. And that is why I have come - to learn your will, my lady.”

“My will?”

She looked confused, and he couldn’t blame her; he was fumbling, dancing around the offer he did not want to make. He had spoken of Lindon earlier, and she had seemed to agree, but that had been before the plans for the valley had been laid. Perhaps she would prefer, at least for a time, to stay with the people she knew. Her entire life had been uprooted, and as much as he wanted her by his side, immediately, it was perhaps more than he could fairly ask.

But he would not know unless he did ask.

“It is your choice,” he said softly. “Should you wish to stay for now, I will not stand in your way. I promised you that there would be time, and so there shall be, no matter where we find ourselves.”

The confusion faded from her face, but uncertainty was left in its wake. He saw her lips tremble, felt a shiver run through the hands he still held. 

“Then - you do not want me to come with you?” 

He cursed himself for a fool. Clearly, he knew even less of courtship than he’d thought, to have spoken so clumsily. Everything had been ripped away from her; he owed it to her to leave nothing unsaid, nothing that was not plain when it came to him. Especially when it had all happened like this, when they had met and fallen before a single word had been exchanged. 

“I would have you with me always,” he murmured, breaking the bonds on his tongue and his heart. “Yes, lady. I would have you come with me now, I would have you begin to make your home in Lindon as soon as may be done. But mine is not the only will, and it is your choice.” 

Linnea took a deep breath. She looked reassured, and he ran his thumbs gently over the backs of her hands.

“I would like more time to sort through the shop,” she said softly. “A few days, if that is possible. If I am to live in Lindon now, I would not leave anything behind that might be saved.”

It made sense, as much as it made the beast inside him growl at the thought of being separated. There was no way he could linger; the best he could do was to ensure that she would be able to travel to Lindon. He offered her a gentle smile, stroking her hands again.

“I understand. I shall leave an escort with you, that you might come safely when you are ready…melethel.”

It was an endearment that he had never spoken, not in two thousand years. It felt strange on his tongue and at the same time, the most natural thing in the world. And he saw it strike home, more than embrace or touch or glance had yet done - she heard the truth in his voice. 

“Very well,” she said. “But keep yourself safe as well, meleth nín. For me.”

Meleth nín. Beloved. Never had he thought those words would pass another's lips, for him, and the urge to kiss her flared up. He squashed it again, promising the great beast soon, soon.

“I will exercise the utmost care,” he promised. “And I shall count the moments until you arrive. Were you able to save much from your workshop thus far?”

“A few things,” she said softly. “Some yarns that my mother had spun and dyed. Some of my father's tools. I have hope that there may be more. But the looms were all crushed beyond any thought of repair.”

“We shall commission new, from whichever crafter in Lindon you choose,” he said. “And you shall have a workshop to do with as you will.”

She smiled. The grief had returned to her face with the mention of her parents, but it did not dim her beauty in the slightest. “My lord is kind.”

“My queen deserves nothing less.”

Her eyes widened, and he had to make an effort to stop himself from gulping. Yes, they both knew what was happening, that was plain but still - he cursed himself for a fool once more, he should have waited, should have made it more special, kept his promise to court her and then asked her to wed properly instead of blurting it out like a child -

Her smile didn't change. But tears sparkled in her blue eyes, spilling over and down her cheeks - but when he went to wipe them away, she tightened her hold on his hands.

“I never thought,” she whispered, her voice ragged. “I never thought - and then for it to be you, I…”

He pulled his hands free, cupped her beautiful face in his palms, and kissed her.

Sunlight exploded in his veins at the touch of her lips, and if he'd thought that her face was the softest thing in Arda, it was nothing to compare to this. He felt her arms slide around his neck, clinging to him, and he wrapped his around her slim waist to hold her tight. Yes, this - not the moment and yet exactly the moment, this little campfire in the night. His guard only a few feet away and none of it mattered, absolutely none of it. Not when he'd finally found her.

And soon, soon, there would be much more. 

He drew back slightly, contenting himself for now with those few earth-shattering seconds. Linnea’s eyes were hazy, filled with desire, and…oh, and.

“Verinín,” he whispered. It wasn't a question; it was a statement, as if he had asked properly. But perhaps he had; perhaps it had been asked, and answered, when their eyes had met that very first time. 

Betrothed.

They were interrupted by the merry clatter of Linnea's kettle finally coming to a boil, and she left his embrace to tend to it. He watched, eyes lingering over her figure with love, as she lifted the iron pot from the fire and set to making the tea.  

He would deprive her of none of the ceremony, if that was what she wanted. He would have a betrothal ring waiting for her by the time she arrived in Lindon, and then they could talk about it. If she wanted a betrothal feast, he would heartily grant it; if she wanted to wait the full traditional year before the wedding, he would find the patience. A year would be gone in the blink of an eye…and yet, his body burned at the thought of that wedding, the real wedding. Not the feast where they would exchange blessings, invoking the names of the Valar and of Eru. Not even trading the silver betrothal rings for golden ones. 

No. 

After their friends and kin had departed, after they were alone in his - their - bedchamber. Linnea in his bed, his to love, his to wed through the union of their bodies. The act that truly made a marriage for their people, that which was only to be shared with their lifemate. He would be her first and her only; she would be the same for him.

It was not the nature of Elves to dwell on the physical. Gil-galad had not pined for that aspect of marriage; he had more longed for the idea of a partner, a queen, someone to share his life with. But faced with the thought, the reality that he would have all of it - yes, that was ample spark to set his skin alight. 

“Would you like some?” she asked, stirring him from his thoughts. “I often enjoy this tea at night before retiring.”

He stepped closer, intending to accept her offer. The aroma of the tea was pleasant - something herbal, earthy, soothing - and as it hit his nose, his vision clouded over.

“Ereinion. Come.”

He smiles, replacing his quill in the inkpot. The smell alone had told him that their evening tea was done steeping, but he never grows weary of his queen’s voice speaking his name. 

He rises from his desk. Linnea is by the fireplace, lying back in the lounging chair he had specially commissioned for her. The kettle that hangs above the hearth is worked steel, engraved and beautiful in addition to functional. The cups are fine too, elegant porcelain, painted with the golden leaves of the great Tree. For a moment his vision blurs, he sees durable iron and simple clay, but then those memories of the past are gone.

She smiles up at him, lying back and stretched out. Her hair is loose around her, a riot of chestnut waves cascading over her blue nightrobe. It is cold outside, snow swirling on the other side of the window, but in the light of the fire, Linnea’s skin glows, her cheeks pink, her bare feet peeking from below her robe. 

He sits down next to her, in the more traditionally-made chair, letting out a sigh of contentment. Linnea turns over on her side to be able to see him, and as she does, her nightrobe moves, revealing the proud curve of her stomach beneath her creamy silk shift. And before he takes his cup, he reaches out, gently running his hand over their child.

“My lord?”

He shook his head, coming back to himself. The vision was fading, and he stared down at Vilya on his hand. The ring’s power had unlocked his foresight, showing visions of the future, but seldom had they been so clear. More often there had been fleeting images, flashes, cloaked in metaphor that he was forced to try and puzzle out. 

But this had been as if he was really there. He could still feel the warmth of the fire on his skin, the faint hint of cold through the window. 

He could still see Linnea, reclining back in her chair. Lovely, warm, pregnant. Carrying their child.

For a moment, he considered telling her, explaining. But that was a much longer conversation than he had time for this night. And there was something else he could say to her instead, something much closer to now.

“Ereinion,” he murmured. “My name is Ereinion. And it would please me to hear you use it.”

Few enough called him by his name, these days. And Linnea’s expression said she was unsure; he understood, it had been so fast between them, there had not been much time at all for her to adjust the High King in her mind to include just him. 

But she licked her lips, and met his gaze, and smiled. “Ereinion.” 

It sounded just as lovely as it had in the vision, and nothing would do for it but for him to kiss her again. 

He could savor it more, that time. He could cherish the feel of her in his arms, the sensation of her fingers cupping his face and threading through his hair. The softness of her lips and the taste of her mouth; would he ever grow used to it? As the centuries passed, Valar and Eru willing, would it feel different? He prayed not.

He felt her back off, but only slightly - and his eyes were still closed, but he felt her smile against his lips.

“If that is my reward for saying your name, I fear I shall wear it out,” she whispered. “Ereinion.”

He laughed, his lips still brushing hers. “Never, my lady,” he vowed, finally opening his eyes. “Never.”

But as much as Gil-galad did not wish it, the hand of time was marching forward, and he had more to do that night before he could find rest. He sighed, stepping back and once more taking her hands.

“I must go,” he murmured. “I am sorry. But I promise you, in Lindon, there will be time for us.”

She stepped forward, following him, and released one of his hands. In the next moment, hers was over his heart, and he reached up to hold it there. And he could swear there was a warmth coming from it that penetrated even his breastplate, reaching down into his very soul. 

“I understand,” she whispered. “It is not so long to wait. And you are worth it.”

He had no idea as to what he had done to merit this gift, but it had been given to him. And he was not foolish enough to refuse it, or to do aught but hold it tight. 

“Travel safely, melethel. For you carry my heart with you.” 

“And you mine.” She stretched up on her tiptoes, giving him one final kiss. “Ereinion.”

TBC...

Potter Masterlist

Hi, it's Camille (my pen name)! Here's a masterlist for my Harry Potter works so it's easy to consolidate my stories. Enjoy reading and feel free to request! If you want to be tagged in anything let me know!

Also please don't come after me, but I've only written Snape so far, so there'll definitely be more characters coming!

Characters

Severus Snape

More Than Life Itself (Snape x OC)

me confundí de fecha

Elrond you would have hated the Romans for burning Alexandria Library

sweet

In This Lifetime

I WROTE THIS FOR YOU @morganas-pendragons <3 Hope you like it!!!

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Golden leaves fell slowly off of the giant tree that overlooked the great elven realm of Lindon. They were a sure sign of the end that was creeping closer every day. By the time they would have all fallen, the elves would become nothing more but lingering fragments, a sign of a great race, trapped in time. 

Standing there, in front of the Great Tree, did not help ease your mind as you had originally hoped it would. When your mind was in chaos, the mere sight of the tree could usually bring back your peace. This time, however, it brought upon nothing but sorrow. Knowing the fate of your people, and knowing you could do nothing about it, left you in despair.

“These rings, they could save our people. They could save the entirety of Middle Earth.” The words of your closest friend echoed through your head at that moment. He spoke highly of three rings that he claimed to have the power to prevent the disastrous fate that you were stuck dwelling on. Though you knew not of any such power. You feared what would happen if such rings were to be made. It would be no different from going against the Valar themselves.

“Do you still believe that the rings are a bad idea?”

His voice startles you as he comes to stand with you, under the tree. He gazes up at it, contemplating something that you believed to be far beyond your comprehension. He was always thinking of something, but that is what made him into the genius he is.

“They will forever be a bad idea, until you can create them in a way that does not disrupt the natural order of things.”

Your response caught him off guard. When he had proposed the idea to you, he did not imagine that you would linger on it for so long, nor that you would think so deeply about it. Though he did admire that about you. Your mind worked in wondrous ways.

“What if I could convince you that the rings are working parallel to the natural order? They would not stir up any trouble.”  He held your hand gently as he spoke, and while you wanted to believe him, you found it hard to do so. 

“How would you convince me?”

“Come back with me to my forge. Let me show you how I wish to make the rings.”

A part of you wanted to fight back, but his sweet words, his gentle voice, it all swayed you to follow him back to Eregion.

His forge was nothing short of breathtaking. Gems and other beautiful trinkets were placed carefully around the room. The light from the setting sun showered the room in a beautiful, soft glow. You couldn’t help but to be reminded of the early days in your friendship with Celebrimbor. He would often have you stay with him while he worked on his latest project, claiming that you were like a good-luck charm for him.

”Come, have a seat. I’m gonna make some tea and then we’ll get into the rings.”  He led you to a rather soft looking chair and then hurried off to make tea. He was always so hospitable to you, even after the countless times when you would tell him that he didn’t need to be.  

A sudden crashing noise, from the direction he was in, had you on your feet and racing towards him in a matter of seconds. It seemed as though he wasn’t quite paying attention and had dropped one of his teacups. Hardly something to cry over.

”What happened? Are you hurt?”  You slowly walked towards him, so as not to startle him.

”I was making tea and the cup was in my hand, it was so secure. I have no idea how it fell.”  He was staring down at the cup as though it was a wounded animal. This would have been quite amusing, had you not been so concerned from the start.

”It is just a cup, my dear friend. There is no need to be so upset over it. Here, let me help you clean it up.”  You grabbed a nearby towerl and  knelt down beside the broken cup. Before you could even start picking up the pieces, you noticed little spots of blood, which you deduced to be his.

”Celebrimbor?”

”Hm?”

“Let me see your hand.”

You stood up again and extended your hand, waiting for him to offer his. But he hesitated.

”I am fine you know, there’s no need for this. In fact, I can clean the cup up myself. You should go have a seat, my dear.”  He tried to usher you away but you stood your ground.

”Hand. Now.”

He hesitated for a second longer before finally giving in and placing his hand in yours. Despite being a master smith, he had quite soft hands. It dawned on you then that you had never really held his hand before. You carefully examined it and found a small yet deep cut on his ring finger.

”Your hands are your best tools, Celebrimbor, you cannot hurt them.”

He sighed at your words. You brought him back to the main room and found a clean cloth and some ribbon. It wasn’t ideal, but it was the only option at that moment. You brought him over to the chair you were previously sitting at and sat him down, squishing yourself in, between him and the arm rest.

”You know, you could just heal it.”  He looked down at you with a playful smile on his face.

You frowned at him. 

“No. You and I both know that my healing abilities are hardly something to rely on.”

”It is a small cut, my dear. I believe in you.”

”Celebrimbor-“

”I trust you with my entire being.”

His words made you freeze. You had been friends with him for many, many years. It was only natural for you to develop feelings for him, even though you had convinced yourself that he wouldn’t feel the same way. So to hear those words from him now…it made your heart flutter and suddenly, the room seemed way too warm.

You said nothing in response as you carefully cleaned the cut and prepared to heal it. Your healing abilities were not at a level where you could save someone from the brink of death, but it should be good enough for this.

A soft, light blue glow shone from your hands as you hovered over his cut. You closed your eyes, focusing your energy on healing him. He watched you carefully, admiring the focused look on your face while also taking in how beautiful you were. Especially this close.

”There, it should have worked.”  You slowly opened your eyes and examined his finger. The cut was gone, not even a scar left behind.

”It would seem as though you are not giving yourself enough credit, my dear.”

He smiled gently at you as he flipped his hand around in yours and intertwined his fingers with your own. “I should keep you here with me, to be my personal healer.” He laughed as he said this but he was only half joking.

”That would only work so long as you do not injure yourself gravely.” You slowly pulled your hand out of his and brought your other one up to cup his face. ”I cannot lose you, and I would not be able to save you.”

It was more than a profession of love. You were telling him how you had felt for many years now. You couldn’t live without him. He had left such a lasting impression on your life that it would feel like a void if he were to leave.

”Lucky for you, I do not intend to go anywhere. I will stay right here with you, for as long as you will have me.”  He closed his eyes and leaned into your hands, relaxing against your touch.

You sighed deeply, letting go of all of the worries you held earlier. Your hands seemed to move on their own, as they traveled upwards and gently traced the outer shell of his ears. He let out a soft sigh and tilted his head back, letting his head fall deeper into your hands.

Oh how he had been waiting for this moment. He longed for your touch, for you to hold him, to know that you felt the same as he did. The feeling of your delicate fingers running along his ears, it made him feel as though he was touched by the Valar themselves. He felt invincible. You made him feel invincible.

”My dear?”

”Should I stop?” You slowly started to pull your hands away but he quickly grabbed them and held them in place.

”Do not stop. Please.”

His voice was so soft, full of love and desperation. He needed you more than he needed air. You were his lifeline.

”Marry me?”

You dropped your hands in shock at his words. He was staring at you now, his eyes full of intent. He truly wanted you, there was no doubt about that.

”Celebrimbor? Do you truly mean it?” 

“With every breath in my body, with the very blood that runs through my veins, I mean it. You are more precious to me than anything I have ever created, more beautiful than any jewel in the universe. You are my everything. Please, Y/N, marry me.”

He was holding your hands in his now, his face mere inches away from you. You leaned in to him, your lips were hovering over his now. 

“I will marry you. In this lifetime and in every one in the future.”  

He could not longer find any words to say. He instead decided to pull you onto his lap and hold your head in his hands. Reciprocating your earlier movements, he traced the tips of your ears before pulling you into him and kissing you. Your little noise of surprise was drowned out by his deep sigh as he deepened the kiss, leaving you both absolutely breathless.

He finally felt as though he had everything wanted in his life. You always were the missing part of his life. He silently vowed to never let the world harm you, for as long as you both lived. As you had said, in this life, and every one in the future.

ahahahahahaha

You think if someone told this guy:

He'd be defeated by this Hobbit:

That Sauron would shake and quake and fall to his knees crying saying it's fake news.

Celebrimbor laughing all the way from the Halls of Mandos with a spear in his gut.

don't hurt him or else

ROBERT ARAMAYO as ELROND PEREDHEL in The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power — S2E8: Shadow and Light

OK, so who's going to write this???

Crafted Love

Angst? Heart break? Yes. Just yes. Enjoy 😙 (also I wrote this on a plane so don’t mind the errors)

Tag(s): @morganas-pendragons

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“If he had to choose between his craft and you, what do you think his decision would be?”

It was a harsh question to ask. You had never once doubted the love of your husband, but he had been acting quite unlike himself lately. He had always wanted to create something that could make even the greatest of evils shed a tear, you knew this better than anyone, but these rings he was creating…they were different.

Since the sudden appearance of Annatar, and his request to Celebrimbor to create rings of incredible power, you found yourself having a hard time speaking to your husband without it ending in a fight. He was throwing his entire being into those rings, and losing himself in the process. You were afraid of losing the man you loved.

“I do not think he would choose his craft.” You responded, keeping your voice as leveled as possible. Though you could probably fool anyone else, you couldn’t keep your true thoughts hidden from your dear friend.

“You do not truly mean that. I can tell. Tell me, Y/N, what will you do when he becomes a completely different person?” Elrond had come to keep you company for a bit, as your husband was far too busy. This had become a common occurance over the last few months.

You didn’t respond this time. The thought of him becoming someone completely unrecognizable to you was terrifying. He had been caught up in his work before, but this was on a different level. He was irritated constantly, snapping at the people closest to him, and he seemed to practically forget about your presence altogether.

“What would you do, if you were in my place?”

Elrond contemplated this for a moment. He didn’t want to be too harsh but at the same time, he felt as though he owed it to you to be as truthful as possible. You were his closest friend, afterall.

“I would prepare myself for the worst. It would be best to be well-equipped for whatever may happen.”

You sighed deeply and stared up at the sky. The sun had started to set, painting the sky in the most beautiful shades of pink and orange. It was absolutely gorgeous. You closed your eyes, smiling softly as you remembered the times when you would drag Celebrimbor out of his forge to watch the sun set. Usually, he would stay out a bit longer with you, watching the stars appear and dance throughout the sky.

“These stars will be the witnesses to our love. They will be our proof that I, Celebrimbor, Lord of Eregion, choose to love you for all of our years together. Whenever you are feeling down, you need only look up at the sky and you will be reminded of my love.”

How you longed to hear those words again. You wanted your lover back and it hurt you to know that he may be lost forever. But it pained you even more to know that there was barely anything you could do to help him.

“Elrond, I have to set him free from this…this prison he is in.”

“How do you intend to do that, when the prison is his own mind?”

Again, a question you had not prepared yourself for.

“I will try to reason with him one more time. If he does not come to his senses, then I will consider this a lost cause. I mean it this time.” The strength in your voice reflected your resolution but your eyes betrayed you, as they quickly filled with tears.

There was nothing left to be said between friends, as Elrond could already forsee the outcome of your conversation and you were choosing to stay blind to it. He could not longer help you, nor could he watch you suffer anymore. He gave you a small nod and turned to leave.

“It will work this time, Elrond. Something feels different this time.” You called out to him, a final message before he left.

“I truly hope it does, for your sake more than his.”

You watched as your friend departed, leaving you alone with your thoughts once more. You couldn’t give up on the man who loved you, who looked at you as though you were the brightest star in the night sky. You had promised yourself long ago that you would love him until your dying breath.

Your fondest memories with him flooded your mind as you made your way to his forge. They made you feel a sense of loss, but they also helped to solidify your resolve. You could no longer sit back and watch, as your husband’s usually colourful soul now resembled a cold and empty shade of grey.

“We need to talk.” You shouted as you burst through the doors of his forge.

He was standing at his work bench, examining something through that little magnifying glass that you had gifted him years ago. The sight brought a wave of nostalgia that hit you hard, leaving you slightly gasping for air.

“What is it? I am quite busy, you know.” He didn’t even look up, you weren’t worth his full attention right now.

“As I said, we need to talk. Now.” You walked over to him and stood beside him, applying some kind of pressure for him to focus on you.

“Fine, make it quick though.” He put his glass down and turned to look at you.

Shock wasn’t a strong enough word to describe how you felt as soon as you saw him. He was a completely different man. His hair was a mess, coal and ash were smeared across his face, and his eyes. Oh his beautiful eyes. They were dull, lacking emotion of any sort.

You had interrupted him from his work before, but those were different days. Better days. Days were his eyes were full of excitement, every new project sparked joy in him and you could always see it. But now? There wasn’t an ounce of joy behind his eyes. There was nothing.

“You have changed, my love. And as much as I would love to let you continue on this project, I am begging you to stop. You are losing yourself.” You held his hand gently, doing your best to ignore the cuts and scrapes on it as there were larger issues at hand.

He stood quietly for a moment, gazing into your eyes as if he was trying to determine whether or not you were serious about your request. When he spoke, his voice was soft and quiet, almost a whisper. “Perhaps you are right.”

Your eyes lit up. This was a huge improvement from the last time when you had spoken to him. He was genuinely taking your words in and listening to you.

“I truly am so glad that you see it too-”

“I have changed. For the better. I see you now, in your truest form.” His voice changed, what was once soft was now sharp and cold, as though he was speaking to his enemy. He pulled his hand out of yours and crossed his arms, with a look on his face that you had never seen before. It was as though he despised you.

“You never wished for me to achieve my only goal, my dearest dream. You wanted me to forever live in Feanor’s shadow. A fool who could never achieve what his ancestors did. That is truly why you wish for me to stop my work on the rings.”

You stared blankly at him. His words made no sense to you. Since the beginning, you knew of his ambitions and you never once stopped supporting him. You sacrificed so much for him, and yet he had the nerve to say that. Your mind went quiet, any sense or reasoning was now long gone.

“You are indeed a fool, Celebrimbor. I gave up my position as commander, just to be here and support you while you worked day and night, attempting to create something that seemed near impossible. Yet here you are, accusing me of having alterior motives. I, who moved my entire life from Lindon to Eregion, to help you. A fool does not even begin to describe what you are in this very moment.”

Your words cut deep, causing a look of guilt and sadness to flash across his face for a moment. But he quickly regained his cold composure and looked down at you.

“What am I then?”

“I will tell you instead what you are not. You are not the man I love. You are far from the man I married and swore to love for both of our lifetimes. The man who would stay up late with me, counting the stars in the sky and promising to love me more than the amount he counted, the man who would drop everything the second I expressed any need of him, he is truly gone. I thought perhaps, the real you was somewhere in there, deep down inside. I see now that I was wrong.”

He didn’t even flinch as you told him everything you had felt for months on end. It was in that moment that you realized he was a different man now, and you couldn’t do anything about it. Not waiting for any response from him, you turned around and walked towards the door, hesitating slightly as you contemplated saying one last thing. A farewell.

“I hope those rings bring you the comfort you need, as I no longer will. Goodbye, Lord Celebrimbor.”

He said nothing as he watched you leave. Your words slowly began to sink in, but he forced himself to think nothing of them and return to his work. As he turned back to his table, he saw your wedding band, placed beside his tools. When you had taken your ring off was unknown to him, but it broke his heart, though he wouldn’t feel it until it was too late.

Years had passed since your last encounter with him. You were now standing in the ruins of Eregion, listening to your dearest friend as he told you everything that had happened. His final sentence informing you of what you had already realized: Celebrimbor had died. Or rather, he was killed. You allowed Elrond to finish his recount of the events, and then you made your way to the forge. You could not truly believe it until could confirm it with your own two eyes.

A sudden wave of nausea hit you as you walked into the forge. The smell of blood and ashes was so strong it choked you. And it was then when you looked up and saw him. Impaled to the pillar, a declaration of war. You stayed for a moment longer, before taking a deep breath and leaving. It was far more gruesome than you could have imagined.

As you walked through the rest of the city, you found yourself reminiscing about the past. Every corner of the city held a beautiful memory for you. The garden that he planted just for you, with your favourite flowers, was now completely destroyed. A single petal lay on the ground, untouched by the evil that had overtaken the city you once called home.

The next few days consisted of your friends constantly checking in on you. They knew how strong, how unwavering, your love was for the Lord of Eregion. And though your heart hurt, no tears ever fell. For you had mourned him, long before he truly left.

that is good

Celebrimbor and Mirdania are together again in Valinor <3

I think she was like a daughter to him