Unbowed Unbent Unbroken

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

While he is very affectionate, Elrond is a sucker for subtle affection. Be it a intertwining of hands, quick kiss on the cheek, or a shared look across the room. If it’s a subtle but intimate sign of a shared relationship he’s obsessed with it.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

This man is the best friend you could have, look at his relationships with Galadriel and Durin!!!

I’d say most of his friendships start because someone thought he seemed lonely or the other way around. He’s the friend who’s always up and always ready to talk if you need.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Please cuddle this boy, he is so touch starved, he’ll melt into a puddle once your arms are around him.

He usually prefers a position that allows him to see your face, but if he’s tired enough he’ll lay whichever way you like.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

I think he definitely wants a partner, but he may be hesitant about children, he’s still so young, and Middle-Earth is so chaotic, to him it almost feels cruel to subject a child to that uncertainty.

Elrond can clean, but he cannot cook, no matter how many times he’s tried to learn he just doesn’t have the skills necessary.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He’d do it face to face, and probably be crying the whole time. He cares so deeply and the idea that he has to hurt someone, hurts him.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He wants to find the love of his life, someone to bounce ideas off of, and share his journeys with. He also wants someone so Durin and Disa will stop trying to set him up.

I think if Elrond fell in love it would be a love at first sight, married within months type of deal, he knows his heart, and trusts in its decisions.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Have you seen him???? Gentlest soul alive, he has the biggest heart, and he treats his partner like they’re made of glass. Everything about them is so precious he can’t help but feel he needs to be gentle with them.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He’s a hugger, he wasn’t at first, but after he became friends with Durin, it was all downhill from there.

Hugging Elrond is like biting into freshly baked bread, like the sun on your face, and the feeling of being home after a long day. He just radiates comfort.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Oh, so fast. So, so, fast, he’s fighting to keep from saying it the moment you compliment him on something meaningful to him. Ex: A speech, his bonds with his friends, his kindness.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Elrond is not a jealous person, he knows your heart is his, and his is yours.

That being said, he does get a bit insecure, and when he does he’ll break out the clinginess. He’s sticking by your side, pressing a kiss to your temple, and praising you to all who can hear.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Elrond tastes like sun warmed honey, pure sunlight, and clear water, when he kisses you, it’s all encompassing, in the best way possible, it leave you breathless and giggly. He likes kissing your temple, forehead, lips, and nose.

He enjoys being kissed on the lips, neck, cheeks and nose.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He likes children to an extent. He acknowledges they are wondrous creations, and he loves how inquisitive they are, but there are a lot of times where they just plain get in his way.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Elrond rises early, he has to be up around the same time the High-King is. He likes eating breakfast with you and watching the sun fully rise. but will understand if you want to sleep in instead.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Elrond likes to go to bed early since he wakes up so early. He’ll typically read a chapter of a book then he likes to fall asleep as you both discuss your day. Something about falling asleep to your voice always ensures he has pleasant dreams.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Elrond is very open with things that are important to him, and if asked he’ll give you an answer about almost anything, but things of a more serious or sad nature he tends to hold close to his chest. It may take some time for him to be comfortable talking about them with you.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Elrond is a saint, unless he’s working. Then he has the shortest fuse you’ve ever seen.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers everything!!!! He’s got journals upon journals dedicated to you and the things you love.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favorite moment is probably when he asked you to marry him. The pure joy on your face, and the way you kissed him in front of everyone made him feel so loved, he could write a thousand poems about it.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He’s very protective, you’re so precious to him, he doesn’t know what he’d do if you were hurt. He’s not a warrior like Gal, but he isn’t without skills. In a verbal battle though???? He’s winning, no contest. He’d definitely encourage you to stay close to him, and ask you to stay home if he was going somewhere dangerous.

He really enjoys the way you verbally protect him, especially if you’re of a higher rank. It makes his heart flutter when you speak highly of him, or defend his name.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Before he’s courting you, you think he might actually dislike you with how often he bails on meetings/activities. After he begins courting you though, you realize just how busy he is. It’s not that he doesn’t want to put in the effort, he’s just so overwhelmed. When it comes to an anniversary or your birthday though? He’s all over it.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He talks so much, and often times so fast you get lost in the conversation. He also refuses to stop working, you’ve found him asleep at his desk more times than you can count.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He’s the High-King’s herald, he has to look presentable at almost all times. Also, he’s very proud of his hair, and takes extremely good care of it.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

With an couple where one or more of the pairing is an elf there will be a feeling of incompleteness, but Elrond has a good support system for when you’re away.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He calls you “My starlight” because when he first saw you it look liked you were standing right under the evening star. Since then he’s always believed his father sent you to him.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He hates rudeness and entitlement, also a lack of empathy and dishonesty. Anyone who hates dwarves is out of the question as well.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Elrond sleeps like a rock until the sun hits his face, once he’s asleep that’s it, you have to dump cold water on him at least twice to wake him before the sun does.

Elrond is only rough when he's very angry, stressed, or insecure. Any other time, he just can’t bring himself to treat you with anything less than the whole amount of love and devotion he has in his body.

He absolutely adores you, and the idea of harming you in any way hurts his heart. That being said, each emotion listed above invokes a different kind of rough Elrond.

Angry Elrond has you bent over his desk, his fingers pulling at your nipples, his teeth in your shoulder or nipping at your neck. He growls in your ear as he fucks you, powerful thrusts making the desk shake, and drawing moan after moan from your lips. Your legs are wobbly, and you can’t go outside without a scarf on because your neck is littered with his marks.

 Or he has you ride his thigh, his lips on your breasts, covering you in his marks, as you beg for him. Hands grasping at his tunic, or his shoulders, as you desperately chase your high. But there’s nothing like sex with Elrond and you soon tire out.

He tuts when your hips stutter, and he flips you over, onto your hands and knees, his hands on your hips keeping you flush against him as he fucks into you. His chest pressed to your back as he chuckles, “my poor starlight, too tired to stay upright, but still begging to be fucked. Say you’re mine and I’ll let you come. Be good for me, sweet one.”

Stressed Elrond wants you on your back, arms looped around his neck, so he can rut into you, but still see your face. He needs to see you, to know you feel good, that he’s doing good. He lists out the things he needs to do as he thrust into you and claims your lips when he finds his mind drifting back to his worries. Elrond feels invincible, when he’s inside you, and it makes it easier to organize his thoughts.

You’re just along for the ride as he draws climax after climax out of you, his skilled fingers toying with your bud in a way that has you screaming his name. He’s so confident in these moments, teasing you as he coos, “look at how pretty you are. My starlight drunk on my cock, clinging to me so tightly, no thoughts in that beautiful head. Fret not, sweet one, I will take care of you.”

You’re his ultimate stress relief, and when he’s too stressed to even concentrate on you, the best course of action is to flip him onto his back and bounce on his cock. Take your pleasure from him, make him feel useful, even if it’s just as a toy. Something about it turns his brain to mush, and he’s putty in your hands.

You have him crying out for you, his hands groping your breasts a whimper of, “please starlight, use me, come for me. Please come on my cock, don’t stop—fuck don’t stop, please, please, my sweet starlight, torture me no longer.” He’d give you anything you ask for when you’re using him.

Insecure Elrond needs to be close to you. He wants you riding him, begging for him as he thrusts up into you. He loves hearing you beg for him when he’s feeling insecure, it reassures him that you still want him over everyone else. Elrond wants you littered with his marks and has you moaning his name over and over again. Preening under your praise, letting your clear adoration for him wash away any insecurities.

Soon enough, though, he’ll flip you over and hold you close to his chest, his face buried in your neck. Breathing in your familiar scent, as he whispers, “I love you, y/n. I love you from the deepest depth of my soul, to the highest of heights, more than the moon loves the stars, than the ocean loves the shore, sing for me. Please my starlight, sing for me, and me alone, let me hear your voice.”

But if he’s insecure and angry, it’s a wild ride. Gone is your shy, sweet boy. He’s fingering you at the dinner table. Eating you out in the archive, and fucking you up against the balcony railing, his hand over your mouth, his tongue trailing up and down your sensitive ears as he ruts into you from behind. His free hand is playing with your nipple, rolling it between his fingertips, groaning your name and begging you to be quiet, all while he fucks you harder.

Many pants of “fuck y/n, you must be quiet, you don’t want anyone to hear us, do you? Or perhaps you do, you want them to see how well pleasured you are, how your husband takes care of his sweet starlight. Then scream, let them hear how you sing for me, let them hear and know only I am able to draw such sweet music from you.”

“Oh? I did not notice his stares; I was distracted by his wife’s tactless attempts at touching my dear husband.” You remind him, with a teasing smile.

Elrond hums in acknowledgment and brushing a lock of hair behind your ear, the tender action sending a shiver through you.

“Was he staring quite inappropriately?” You ask, core throbbing at how wrecked your husband still seemed to be.

“His eyes were doing the work his hands wished to be doing.” Elrond explains, brushing his fingertips down the curve of your face, lingering at the corner of your lips.

“And what did his hands wish to be doing? I am sure you were imagining such things; he is after all an honorable man.” Your skin tingles where Elrond’s fingertips had been, a coy smile tugging at your lips.

Elrond’s hand continues to trail down your skin, brushing down your neck and stopping at your still exposed breasts. “They wished to follow this path, to take hold of this supple flesh and circle your pert nipple, until you are whimpering.”

His hands do as he describes, groping and massaging, his skilled fingers tweaking and tugging your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure scattering across your skin.

“Surely he would not think such a thing.” You protest weakly, arching your back ever so slightly, attempting to push more of your soft flesh into his hands.

“Oh, and then they trailed lower, far too low for any but I to look.” One hand left your breasts, sliding down your body slowly until he reached your thighs. The other continued its ministrations, and you pressed your lips together to muffle a desperate whimper.

“That is far too low, you are correct, my love.” You use your free hand to ruck up your skirt, giving him access to your bare skin.

“It was all too clear that his hands wished to dive beneath your skirts, to claim what is mine.” Elrond tsks, running two fingers between your folds collecting the slick that is already there, his thumb circling your bud slowly.

“It is yours, husband, truly.” You breathe, eyes fluttering closed when he slips one finger in and curls it, searching for that spot within you.

“Such lewd eyes upon my starlight, I had half a mind to bend you over the table and take you there, let him see how well fucked you are.” He slides in another finger, his thumb setting a dizzying rhythm on your bud that has your hips bucking forward.

Your hands go to his shoulders, clinging to him for balance. “Stars, so—so well, Elrond.”

Three of his fingers are within you now, curling against that spot deep within you, your toes curling in response to the rush of heat that overtakes you. “You would enjoy that, would you not, my sweet starlight? Enjoy everyone watching as you come apart on my cock, everyone knowing you belong to me and I to you?”

You nod, a moan falling from your lips when he begins to thrust his fingers in and out of your core. His thumb’s rhythm sending you into a trance as he continues to pluck your nipples like harp strings, his lips attaching to your earlobe, his teeth nipping at the sensitive flesh.

“But you would never let him touch you, he will only be able to imagine what sounds I pull from you, how beautiful you look in the throes of ecstasy.” Elrond purrs, before he drops to his knees and pushes you back onto the bed, grabbing your thighs and pulling you forward, his lips attaching to your bud.

“Elrond—” You cry out, hands going to his hair as he begins to devour you, skilled tongue and fingers working in tandem until you are writhing in his grasp, breathing desperately, hips moving wildly against him.

“He will never know the sweet nectar of your core, never feel the warmth within you, how it clenches and clings for me and me alone.” His words vibrate against your folds, and you throw your head back in blissful agony.

“Never, never, my love, it is only for you.” You babble, tugging at his thick locks as he brings you closer and closer to your climax.

Elrond’s tongue curls within you aided by his fingers, his thumb returning to its relentless rhythm on your bud, and you go boneless. Body melting into the bed, mind flushed with pleasure, erasing all thoughts except your desire to have your husband’s cock within you, to have him split you in half while you scream for him.

In your after throes, you do just that. You slide off the bed and onto his erect cock, bouncing on it, head thrown back, moans spilling from yours and his lips as he drills into your sensitive spot, each collision driving you further and further from your body until your head feels filled with thick clouds of lust.

Elrond’s lips are on your ears, your nipples, your neck, and breasts, before finally finding their way back home to your lips, his tongue tangling with yours. “You are mine y/n, my wife, my starlight, no one will touch you as I do.”

You pull him closer, nearly all thoughts driven out of you by his thrusts but one. “And no one will touch you as I do.”

“No one, no one.” He agrees, his thrusts wild, all control lost until he feels your release and follows soon after, painting your walls with his seed, moaning your name into your mouth.

You both sit there, foreheads pressed together as you catch your breath. “Perhaps we should sit next to Lady Viviana and Lord Avaen more often?” You jest, earning a fond but exhausted smile from your husband.

You only wished to gain your husband’s attention, he’d been working so diligently, mumbling to himself as he wrote and rewrote a speech for the High King.

“My love, please, take a break.” You urged him, sliding into his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I wish I could, but this speech is of the utmost importance.” He sighed, scribbling out another line.

His lips were pursed in thought, and you longed to feel them on your skin.

“You always encourage me to rest when I am working too hard, why should the same not apply to you?”

He took your hand and pressed it to his lips distractedly. “Because you are a musician, you could damage your hands.”

“And you couldn't damage your mind?”

He looks up at you, adoration clear in his oakwood eyes. “Y/N, I know you are merely concerned for me, but I must finish this speech.”

You nod but pout at him. “Alright, my love, I will simply sit here and keep you company.”

He kisses your hand once more, then releases it and turns his attention back to the parchment before him.

You wait all of ten seconds before your hand sneaks down and settles between your legs, brushing his cloth covered lap.

He tenses, but you stretch your other arm out and he relaxes.

Once his attention drifts away from you, your fingers lightly stroke him, as you lean forward pretending to read his speech. “This reads very well, my love, good job.” You purred, knowing fully well how your praise goes straight to his head.

His breath catches in his throat, and you continue your ministrations, carefully untying the laces of his trousers, eyes still on the ink filled parchment.

“You do not think it sounds heavy on the tongue? Especially not here?” He points at a section, trying to ignore the way you’ve freed his member from the confines of his trousers and have it in your skilled grip.

You hum lightly as your thumb brushes over his tip. “No, I think it will feel fine.”

His head drops to your shoulder as you settle into a rhythm that has his hands clenching into fists as he tries to stay focused. “My starlight—please.”

You bat your eyes at him. “Please what, husband?”

His eyes flicker to your lips, and you know you’ve got him. He stands abruptly, and carries you over to your shared bed, laying you down gently before stripping himself fully of his trousers, and pushing up your skirts.

“You vixen.” He chuckled, as he lined himself up at your core and eased himself in, leaning forward to connect your lips.

He always fits perfectly inside you, and he gives you a moment to adjust before he breaks the kiss.

“Elrond, move.” You pleaded, pressing kisses to his jawline.

He pulls out then thrusts back into you, his eyes locked on yours, until he is sure there is no discomfort, then his hand begins to wander fondling your breasts through the fabric of your dress.

As you moan his name, arching your back pressing more of your soft flesh into his large hand, he grows impatient and pulls down your bodice exposing your breasts to the night air.

Your hair is splayed out behind you, and your head is tilted back, lips parted, as he kisses down the column of your neck.

“Elrond.” You sighed, your hand in his hair, the other gripping the sheets.

“My beautiful starlight, won’t you sing for me?” He asked, as he thrust into you again, eyes flying shut as he basked in your warmth.

You shifted your hips, whining as his hips moved at a languid pace. “My love, please.”

He rested his forehead against yours, as you tug at his hair, urging him to move faster. He kisses you gently before pulling out, taking your thigh in one hand and wrapping it around his waist before thrusting back in, hips picking up speed as you moan beneath him.

The new angle allows him to go deeper, and you sing for him as he asked, sighs and moans climbing to a higher pitch. You use your grip on his hair to guide his lips lower, until they settle on the smooth skin of your breasts.

“You are divine, a gift from the Valar created for me.” He praised, as his lips attached to your nipple, tongue circling it, his other hand sneaking down to toy with your bud. The combination of touches makes your back arch once more, and you whine out his name.

“You feel so good, husband, please, faster.” You whimpered, your praise making his pupils dilate until the warm brown is all but swallowed up.

“My wife, my sweet starlight.” He panted, nipping marks into your skin.

“Yours, Elrond, I’m yours.” You purred, as you rocked your hips, your other leg wrapping around his lower back to keep him close.

Your declaration sparks something in him, and he abandons your breasts to place open-mouthed kisses up your neck, biting down on your pulse point. There’s a frenzy in his thrusts, that has moans and keens falling from your lips, further urging him on.

“My starlight, come for me, please.” He begged, as he feels your walls clench around him.

Your hand leaves his hair to cup his face, and you lean up, connecting your lips. He tastes of honey and clear waters, and of pure sunlight. You can’t get enough, so your tongue dives in, collecting every drop of him you can. Pleasure washes over you in waves, and you fall back to the bed, his lips chasing yours. You moan into the kiss, chanting his name over and over until you finish.

He follows quickly, your name on his lips, along with a few Elven curses. He collapses atop you, and presses kisses to any skin he can reach. “I love you.”

You cup his face with both hands and kiss him again, slower, gentler, conveying your affections even as exhaustion takes over. “And I love you.” You break the kiss and pat his chest. “Now go and finish your speech, then perhaps I will give you an encore.”

You can’t quite tell where exactly you are, and as you are unable to move, it is unlikely you’ll ever find out. You vaguely remember fighting. The battlefield was a blur of metal, fire, and screaming.

The quiet hum of devastation still rings in your ears. The smell of smoke, blood, and petrichor fills your nostrils. You can feel the wet earth beneath you, unsure as to whether it is because of water or blood that the dirt clings to your skin.

There is pain seeping through every part of your body, every breath more difficult than the last. You aren’t sure if it’s the pain or the exhaustion, but it feels like you are floating. Like you aren’t quite tethered to your body anymore, and could fly away at any moment, disappearing forever.

And then you hear it. A soft gasp, and the clanking of armour as footsteps rush to approach you.

A face enters your vision. You didn’t think you’d ever see that face again. His voice, gentle yet filled with urgency, calls your name.

“You’re alive.”

You blink, trying to focus on him, but the world around you is spinning. His face is like a beacon in the chaos, but you can barely make out the details.

Elrond kneels down beside you, his hands already moving over your broken body, assessing your obvious injuries. You feel the gentle touch of his fingers against your skin, the warmth of his presence grounding you.

You allow him to tend to you, unable to take your eyes off him.

“Elrond.” You whisper, breath ragged. “I want to go home.” The words sound surprisingly steady as they fall from your cracked lips.

Elrond’s eyes soften as he carefully bandages a wound on your arm, his movements practiced, soothing. “We’ll be there soon. Rest now, meleth nîn. You’ve been through much.”

You shake your head, wincing with the effort. “No... I want to go home. Our home.”

For a moment, there is silence. Elrond pauses, looking down at you, his expression unreadable, though the sorrow in his gaze was unmistakable. He continues tending to you, his healing touch delicate but firm.

You’ve spoken about it before. Building a home for the two of you, maybe even for more in time. These plans never made it past late night conversations, wrapped in soft silks, hands gently tracing intricate shapes on freshly bathed skin.

“I know.” Elrond murmurs, his voice barely a whisper heavy with the weight of centuries of wisdom and grief.

He finishes securing a bandage, and then he pauses again. “And we will have that. One day. I will make sure of it.”

He looks around at the battlefield, at the ruins of everything. It is as if he is searching for something. A flicker of hope in the ruins. After a moment, his gaze shifts back to you.

“We’ll make one.” He says softly, his words more certain than anything. “Right here. Right now. We are home.”

You look up at him, still unable to fully comprehend his words, but his presence, his unwavering love, anchor you. The world seems to hold its breath for a moment, and in that silence, in that fragile flicker of peace, you feel something more, something deeper than any of the pain you are enduring.

Elrond’s shifts you closer to him, his touch steadying you. There is a shimmer of unfallen tears in his eyes, though there is also something else, something akin to determination and devotion.

“We are home.” You repeat, finding comfort in the certainty of his words, and though the world is still broken around you, in that moment, you know he will build something for both of you from the ruins.

With him by your side, in this valley, brimming with potential, you will build a place you can truly call your home.

Lord of the Rings Masterlist

Masterlist

The sun was slowly sinking towards the peaks of the surrounding mountains while you were still sitting in a quiet corner of the camp, halfway up the cliff on which you had talked to Gil-Galad, and hidden behind a few bushes so you weren’t visible yourself, but saw just enough of the valley below and the forest beyond. The sound of chatter in the familiar language of the Elves sounded to your keen ears, and you closed your eyes in bliss, letting your cheeks and eyelids getting warmed by the sun.

How many nights had you believed to never hear this language again, to never feel the sun’s warmth again? The rustle of wind in the leaves, the calling of small birds that soared through the air overhead, the humming of insects crawling up the trees, it all imprinted itself into your memory so much more intensely than it had ever before. Just enough to almost make you forget of the stories you had been told of the Lord Celebrimbor’s fate, almost enough to make you forget about what you knew about your friend Elrond’s heart.

“You aren’t easy to find, you know. Or was that intentional?”

As if he had heard your thoughts stray to the matters of him, Elrond came stepping out from behind a tree that masked the little clearing you had claimed as your sanctuary for now.

Opening your eyes against the late afternoon sun, you turned your head towards him, surprised to find he was no longer dressed into his dirty clothes from before. Instead, he wore a soft tunic of an intense blueish green, adorned with gold thread and the faint pattern of feathers along his arms – ever the herald of the High-King. His hair was washed and already half dry, much like your own, and his eyes had softened as they took in your appearance.

“You look better,” he commented, with a small grin, earning an eyeroll from you.

“You don’t say,” you shook your head, “And here I had assumed you’d prefer the grime and the blood.”

“Most days I do,” Elrond teased, “but I’ve had just about enough of that for today.”

He stepped closer and revealed a basket he had been carrying.

“I’ve brought food. From the High-King himself. He was worried about your physical state, after everything.”

Now that Elrond had drawn your attention to the basket filled with food, it was close to impossible to focus on anything else. When had been the last time you had eaten something proper? Months ago, before the fire mountain had lain destruction to the Southlands. Everything else since then had been mud-water, maggots in mouldy bread and sand between your teeth.

Quickly, Elrond stepped forward, holding out the basket for you, and as pathetic as you felt in that moment, you reached out for a grapevine, plump and shiny. Before you could even thank Elrond, you had stuffed a handful of the fruits into your mouth, your senses overwhelmed by the explosion of sweet and sour, delicious juice filling your mouth. Before you had even swallowed properly, you had already popped in the next ones and reached out for more.

“Slowly,” Elrond reprimanded you, pulling the basket out of reach. “You’ll suffocate. Swallow first.”

Doing as he had instructed, you looked up at where he was standing in front of the rock you were sitting on. You feared being met with disappointment, amusement or even disgust at how greedily you had eaten, but instead Elrond’s eyes were soft and full of understanding, and he handed you a small loaf of bread.

“Try to eat something of substance first,” he advised, “The grapes are mostly water.”

As you hesitantly took the bread from him, he sat down where he had stood, selecting one after another a slice of roasted meat, some more bread, an apple, an egg and more grapes for you to eat, handing you the foods one after the other, reminding you to chew properly in between. There was more food in the basket, but after the egg, you finally began feeling as if your stomach was starting to fill up again, and part of the dark whole that seemed to have devoured your spirit until now had been filled up.

When he handed you a second helping of grapes, Elrond finally begun easing back into conversation that now was less one-sided than his occasional reminders to chew and swallow properly.

“Doubtlessly the past months are no matter you want to remember anytime soon, but I have to ask-” his voice was both apologetic and desperate, “what has happened to you, since Galadriel lost you in the destruction of the Southlands? Looking at you, I can only imagine the worst…”

Golden light caught in Elrond’s curls, making them glimmer like molten metal, and his eyes shone like the sea reflecting a stary night sky overhead.

“I’d rather you don’t even try to imagine,” you answered slowly, quickly pushing another grape past your lips to draw out the inevitable answer. Elrond followed your gesture with his eyes as if to distract himself from your words. “I had – just like Galadriel later – the misfortune of having been found by Adar’s Orcs.”

Elrond nodded along to your words, continuing to watch you closely.

“I don’t quite know why he didn’t kill me, why he opted for torture instead-”

Elrond sucked in a breath at the word torture, his eyes focusing on your wrists where your shackles had left still-red marks on your skin.

“He said- he said he wanted to see how much it took to break an Elf the way he had once been broken.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, scared it would break should you speak any louder.

“An Elf made of the wood you’re made of is not so easily broken;” Elrond reassured you with a steady voice, but his eyes spoke of the concern he tried to mask.

“I’m not so sure, Elrond,” you disagreed, fighting the burning in the back of your throat that warned you of the tears to come. “There were nights, when no stars were to be seen, where all that is good and pure felt so far away, and even my memories turned against me, when I couldn’t tell if there ever had been any good, where there had ever been anyone who would fight for me the way I fought for them, or at least the memories of them-”

“I would fight for you,” Elrond interrupted you tear-wet recollection of those dark moments. “If I could have saved you from Adar’s torture by living through a hundred years of it, I would have done it without questioning my decision even once. You know that, don’t you?” He grabbed your hands into his bigger once, warm, elegant fingers closing around yours desperately. “You must have known that!”

“I didn’t, Elrond, I didn’t,” you shook your head, no longer caring trying to hold back the tears that now ran down your cheeks. “I didn’t know that, not towards the end, when every memory of those I love was warped into my darkest fears, and seemed so much realer, so much truer than any good memory I had. Because how could the good memories be true, but nobody had come looking for me?”

You hated yourself the moment the words had left your lips, not just because those were words you wished you had never even thought, but also because Elrond froze up at hearing them, his eyes widening in something akin to fear and then desperation as he sat up on his knees grabbing your hands tighter.

“If I had known you were alive- if there had been the faintest trace of you being in Adar’s power-”

“I know, Elrond, I know that,” you interrupted him, pulling your hands out of his grasp and cupping his face instead. What could you possibly do to ease the despaired expression in his eyes? “I know you would have come for me, but the shadows of those hours were so dark, that I was convinced that even if you had known, you wouldn’t have come for me. So strong was the hold Adar’s darkness had on my mind, so strong his hatred, so weak my mind and body- So when you say, an Elf like myself is not so easily broken, I know you say it with full conviction, but it feels like mockery in the face of what I have endured.”

Elrond, his face still cupped between your palms, stared up at you, tears swimming in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, lips quivering, “There is simply no evil I could imagine dark enough to break your light.”

“I know,” you smiled between tears, and leant your forehead against his. His skin was warm, almost hot, and he smelled of a summer storm. “And I thank you for the trust you have in me.”

Elrond nodded, his eyes fluttering shut and you felt air brush over your cheeks as he inhaled deeply, before leaning his head up and-

You pulled away, shocked, just in time before his lips met yours, quickly sitting back up, bringing distance between him and you. Had he forgotten about Galadriel? A pit opened in your stomach as the bitter taste of betrayal sparked under your tongue. How could he do that to her, to you, to himself, act on such a heartfelt, but overall unimportant moment, and endanger all his heart had gained in the Lady of the Light?

Elrond blinked up at you as if you had dumped a bucket of freezing cold water over his head, irritation and hurt at your sudden rejection in his eyes. You wanted to slap him for looking at you so innocently, as if he hadn’t been about to betray your best friend’s love for him.

Instead of doing so, you cleared your throat, the tears that a moment prior had run down your cheeks all but a faint memory.

“But what about you? What has happened for you since I set out of the outpost in the Southlands?” You chose a cold tone, distant and nowhere near as gentle as a moment before, leaving Elrond visibly reeling from the change. “You must tell me more about what happened between you and Galadriel since then.”

Elrond’s brow comically furrowed, the expression so exaggerated as you had only ever seen on humans before, his heritage taking form on his elvishly beautiful features.

“Galadriel and me,” he echoed, shaking his head slightly, “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t need to pretend, although I do understand if you want to keep things quiet for now,” you told him, pulling your hand away from his as he tried to take it between his again.

“Pretend? What would I pretend about? What would I keep quiet? Galadriel and I are friends, old friends, as you are with her! And nothing we ever did could make anyone think of anything else unless-” He stopped, his eyes widening again in realization and he sat back, his arms falling to his sides defeated.

“You were there,” he realized. “You saw us, in the Orc camp. You were so close-”

You swallowed thickly, watching the emotions flicker over his face, like lightning over the night sky, as realization began settling in.

“It’s alright, Elrond,” you reassured him, but found not the strength to reach out for him. “Your secret’s safe with me.” As safe as that of your feelings for him.

“There is no secret,” Elrond pressed out, “I kissed her to have an excuse to be close to her, so I could slip her my pin, so she might free herself. I was so focused on the friend I saw in front of me that I didn’t even think of saving you!”

“You couldn’t have known I was there,” you disagreed, slipping off the rock you had sat on to kneel in front of Elrond, who was still sitting on the soft moss, now having woven a hand into his hair, as he stared at you, wild, disbelieving that you had been so close to him without him noticing. “There was no way you could have known.”

“I should have known,” he shook his head, his breath fast and uneven, so unlike the always collected and calm herald of the High-King you had come to love. “I should have known, should have felt you, should have heard your heart beat, when for the months you had been missing it was the only sound I was on the look-out for-” He stopped as if taking the moment of silence that stretched out between you to listen for the beating of your heart, only to exhale shakily after a few seconds. “Why didn’t I notice you were so close?”

The question was asked with his head hanging low, as if he was apologizing for something he had had no power over.

Hesitating for a moment, reminding yourself that Elrond had denied any romantic attachment to Galadriel, you cupped his cheek again and guided his forehead to rest against your shoulder. Soft locks tickled the side of your neck and face as he nuzzled his face against the fabric of the dress you now wore, one of his hands slowly coming up to rest against your waist. Warmth bled through your clothes into your skin, gentle like early morning summer sun, but powerful and comforting.

“Tell me of the memories, the dark ones,” he whispered against your shoulder, but you shook your head.

“I won’t let you torture yourself the same way I got tortured,” you denied, running your hand from his cheek into his hair. Sturdy, yet silken locks curled around your fingers.

“I deserve it,” Elrond argued weakly.

“You don’t,” you disagreed, although there was a part of you that ached to know how much of these memories that had left you fearing Elrond had never felt anything but open hatred for you were true.

“Please,” he begged, his fingers tightening into the fabric of your dress. “I need to know.”

Again, you hesitated. You wouldn’t tell him about the true contents of the dreams, but you still had to find a way to ask what the truth was and what just twisted figment of your tortured imagination.

“You once tried to teach me dwarven runes,” you began slowly. Elrond stayed quiet and unmoving head still resting against your shoulder. “What was that like for you?”

“For me,” Elrond asked quietly, having calmed down now that you seemed to fulfil his plea at least somewhat.

“What were you doing, thinking,” you added.

He hummed thoughtfully before answering: “I thought you were skilled. Not used yet to the movements of writing the runes, but skilled. I-” he paused and swallowed, before resuming his story. “I wished, you hadn’t been so quick to pick everything up, then I could have guided your hand more often.”

“My mistakes didn’t bother you,” you asked, just to be sure, earning a soft shaking of his head against your shoulder accompanied with an airy smile.

“Never. I loved, love, your curiosity to pick up new languages, and your interest gave me an excuse to- It never bothered me.”

“And all those times you welcomed me back to Lindon after my patrols-” you continued, trying to remember the fragments of memories. Like broken glass they lay spread out in your mind, each piece reflecting another image of what might be true, and what might be dark lie.

“I used to wait up, waiting for you to find your way back to me,” Elrond whispered, his hand moving from your waist around to your back, pulling you into an embrace. Your skin tingled with his warmth where he touched you and you brought you second hand around to his back, holding him close. “I prided myself on being the first you came to see upon your return, envied every other Elf who lay eyes on you before I did. My favourite were the times you found me when I was reading in the tree,” he slowly pulled away from your shoulder. With you as good as sitting in his lap now, he had to look up to you, a soft smile on his lips, even when his eyes had not yet dried from tears spilled in unreasonable guilt. “I loved the way you would sit on the branches below me, telling me of your patrols. I’d listen, try to memorize all you told me, while you were too distracted to realise you were so beautiful in my eyes that I couldn’t avert my gaze from your form. You didn’t even notice all the times I-” again he stopped and his eyes flickered to your lips, lingering longer than would have been innocent. “Didn’t even notice all the times I almost asked to kiss you.”

You blinked, only half surprised as you were too distracted by the way Elrond was looking at you.

“Why did you never ask,” you whispered into the space between you, Elrond’s eyes flickered back to yours.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I just know that I never regretted anything more than never having told you how I feel for you when you went missing.”

“Then tell me now.”

“Now I lack the words even more I did back then. All I know is that I couldn’t breath while I thought you dead. My thoughts were hung with clouds darker than those over Angband, my heart heavier than the chains in Morgoth’s cells. And now that you are here, in my arms, but have lived through so much suffering that I could have stopped had I looked for you-”

You cut his words of by sealing your lips to his, and he obeyed instantly, lips softening, half swallowing the surprised gasp at the sudden interruption. But then his eyes fluttered closed and his arm tightened around you, and suddenly you felt like you could breathe. Had you ever even taken a breath of air before this very moment?

Fresh air filled your lungs, sweetened with the scent of his hair, his skin so warm and comforting against you, like a cozy fireplace in the cold winter. His lips tasted of jasmine and honey, and when he wrapped his hand into your hair, gently holding you, it felt like you had finally come home.

A breathless giggle slipped over your lips, and you felt Elrond’s lips tighten into a smile of their own before he pulled back just enough to glance at you, a soft hue of red, like a rose’s petals in the spring, bloomed on his cheeks, and his eyes sparkled as if they held all the stars in the sky.

“I take it, you wouldn’t have minded, had I asked to kiss you,” he teased, nudging his nose against your jaw playfully.

“Indeed, I am offended you didn’t,” you replied, pulling your hand from his hair only to brush a few strands out of his forehead. They snapped back immediately.

“It seems I have things to make up for,” he laughed, gently lifting you out of his lap, before standing up and helping you up alongside him.

“So I would claim,” you agreed, not letting go of his hand, which he swiftly lifted up to his lips and kissed.

“Then I will do all that I can to do that,” he promised, suddenly growing serious. “And it would be my privilege to be by your side in whichever way you might need or want me to.”

“I will need you,” you nodded, remembering the shadow that still tucked at your ankles trying to pull you into the dark. Elrond’s kiss had closed the hole further, but it was still there, it was still wide and deep and dark and powerful, but now you were not alone anymore, not like you had thought. “I will need your help, and it won’t always be easy, or pretty.”

“I’m not here for easy, or for pretty. I’m here for real. I’m here for you.” He gently pressed his lips to your forehead before pulling back and intertwining the fingers of one hand with yours, picking up the discarded basket with the other. “Let’s go to find the High-King and let him know you are recovering. He did worry a great deal after you disappeared on him earlier.”

You smiled sadly, remembering the overwhelming grief of having learned about Celebrimbor’s death, but followed Elrond back towards the other Elves. Grieving Celebrimbor’s death would be done best by helping those he had died to protect. Much had been lost in the destruction of Eregion, many lives, more knowledge, a great city, a haven of peace.

But all was not lost.

You had been saved, by the Valar’s grace or your own stubbornness, and for now you even got to hold Elrond’s hand (even though you had a feeling he’d argue he was the one who got to hold your hand). Things would doubtlessly get worse for the Elves who had escaped Eregion, before they’d get better. But they would get better. You had to believe they did, had to help create a place to house them, to heal them, a place that offered sanctuary to all those who sought it. You, and Elrond, and Galadriel and Gil-Galad, you’d built a home, here, at the side of the river Bruinen, the last homely home east of the sea.

The End

Thank you to all of you for following along, and especially those of you, who commented each week; it meant so much to me. Thank you! Hantanyë lyen!

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