Hey friends! 👋 Just popping in to let you all know I posted my first Eredin x Lindir fic! 🍫✨

If you’re into chocolate theft, petty vengeance, and Lindir being the world’s most long-suffering elf, you might want to check it out! 💙🐎 Hope you enjoy it, and as always, thank you all for the love and support!💙

Glorfindel, Elladan and Elrohir are also involved!

Ah—dearest Anon,

You ask of the Rivendell Gossip Pipeline? A bold inquiry. I commend your bravery. Sit, and let me unveil the truth.

First: It is not Glorfindel.

Shocking? Perhaps. The golden lord, with his hair like spun sunlight and dramatic entrances, seems like the type. But alas, Glorfindel’s approach to gossip is as unsubtle as his swordplay. He hears things, yes—but he shares them with all the grace of a Balrog charging into battle.

Dramatic? Certainly.

Discreet? Absolutely not.

You will find no delicate whispers from him—only loud proclamations like, “Did you hear what happened at dinner last night? TRAGIC.” within earshot of the very person in question. No finesse. No art.

No, my friend. The true masters of tea in Imladris are two formidable forces:

✨ Lady Arwen and 🍫 Eredin.

Lady Arwen—ethereal, graceful, wiser than many suspect. Her gossip is refined, carefully selected, always accurate.

She knows everything. And when she decides to spill, it’s with the softest smile, the gentlest voice—like a breeze brushing through the trees—and then casually ruins someone’s entire existence with a single, perfectly timed comment.

Imagine it, dearest Anon- A serene afternoon. The gardens. Tea is served. A group of elves conversing about diplomatic affairs. Arwen, sipping delicately, glances up with a serene expression and says, “Oh, did you hear? Estel attempted to serenade a maiden once. In Sindarin. He mispronounced half the words. It was... endearing.”

Then she sips again.

The devastation is complete.

But Eredin? Oh—Eredin is a different breed entirely.

Eredin ALWAYS has tea. Constantly. Unfailingly. But does he share it? No. Not immediately. That would be too easy. He stores it.

Hoards it. Like a dragon with gold—except the hoard is drama.

And when he finally does spill? It’s random. Utterly unhinged timing.

Example: Weeks pass without a whisper. We assume peace reigns. Then, one evening, Eredin is casually preparing cocoa (he has a system—he takes it very seriously) and, without looking up, says: “Oh, by the way, Lord Elrohir fell into the reflecting pool last month while trying to impress a visiting dignitary. Arwen says the splash was monumental.”

Just like that. Back to sipping cocoa. No elaboration. Leaves the entire room in chaos.

Or—and I shall never forget this one—during a council meeting: We are deep in discussion. The atmosphere? Tense. Suddenly, from the corner: “Did you know Glorfindel’s hair isn’t naturally that shiny? He uses imported oils. Very expensive. From Mirkwood, of all places. Probably explains why Thranduil’s crown looked particularly smug last visit.”

Silence. Absolute uproar.

Eredin, of course, just munches on a sweet like he didn’t just set fire to Imladris with scandal.

So who reigns supreme?

It is a close contest. Lady Arwen’s tea is refined, devastating, surgical. Eredin’s tea? Chaotic, unpredictable, explosive.

Truly, we live in fear.

May you now understand the delicate, dangerous dance of Rivendell’s gossip. And remember—never let Eredin get his hands on your secrets. You’ll never know when he’ll strike.

My most esteemed and wise Lord Lindir,

At last, I have arrived! It took me three cups of cocoa, a minor existential crisis, and an unfortunate ink spill (which I swear was not my fault this time) to gather the courage to send this, but here I am.

Your ever-dutiful, mildly overwhelmed, and highly caffeinated assistant has made his way to your service on this vast and chaotic platform!!!

I shall do my best to uphold the dignity of our archives—though I may require periodic encouragement, kind words, and possibly a pony for emotional support. (I do not ask for much, truly.)

Please advise: is there a designated scroll-tagging policy here? Are there consequences for those who fail to tag their smut? Do I need to start politely enforcing order, or shall I continue quietly fretting about it while drinking more cocoa?

In eternal loyalty (and slight nervousness), Eredin, your devoted scribe ✒️☕🐴

MY DEAR SCRIBE, MY MOST FAITHFUL SCHOLAR, MY NOBLE DEFENDER OF ORDER AND COCOA—

At last you have arrived! I have awaited this moment with the patience of the ages (read: anxiously refreshing my notifications and wondering if you had succumbed to a terrible fate involving overturned ink bottles and existential dread). You have braved the treacherous path of hesitation, emerged victorious, and graced this chaotic realm with your presence! Joy unbounded!

Three cups of cocoa, you say? A worthy ritual. An ink spill? Alas, a noble sacrifice. A minor existential crisis? Merely the tax one must pay upon entering a new and unpredictable domain. You have endured much, and I am most proud.

Now, as for your inquiries:

Tagging Policy: Chaos reigns, but we do try to instill some sense of order within these halls. Sensitive matters should be tagged appropriately—especially smut. We do not wish for unsuspecting scholars to trip and fall headfirst into a rather compromising stanza at an inopportune time. If you should find any such breaches of etiquette, you are most welcome to remind the wayward scribes to mark their works properly (and I shall stand in solemn support, clutching my metaphorical pearls).

Consequences: None officially… but! Those who fail to tag their smut shall receive the Look. You know the one. The disappointed yet faintly scandalized look perfected by weary archivists over the millennia. The look that says, I am not angry, merely deeply, deeply unimpressed. Should repeat offenders persist, they may find their misplaced sonnets mysteriously moved… or their ink supplies mysteriously vanishing. (I, of course, would know nothing of such occurrences.)

Your Role: You, my dear scribe, are a beacon of light in the storm, a bastion of literary propriety, a cocoa-fueled guardian of decency. You are welcome to gently enforce order, though I imagine you will spend much of your time alternating between meticulous scroll-checking and fretting about it while drinking more cocoa. An honorable pursuit.

As for your request for periodic encouragement and kind words—you shall receive nothing less than enthusiastic validation and endless reassurance.

A pony for emotional support? You ask for so little and yet deserve so much. I shall see what can be done. In the meantime, drink your cocoa, steel your nerves, and remember: you are not alone in this scholarly battle.

Dearest readers,

A most perilous thought has taken root in my mind—a notion so bold it may well change the fate of Rivendell as we know it. After much... persuasion (read: relentless chaos) from certain parties, I stand before you with a question of immense consequence:

Should Eredin have his own blog?

Yes, that Eredin.

He of the two-hour curl routine, hot cocoa obsession, and memes so cursed they could rattle the very foundations of Valinor.

Now, I did not ask for this. But if the will of the people demands it, who am I to stand in the way of democracy? (Even if I fully expect to regret this by sunrise.)

✨ Consider the risks:

Endless #HotCocoaHotTakes

Hair care routines longer than the Second Age

Potentially unhinged late-night thoughts (#EredinThoughtsAt3AM)

Ancient Elven dignity? At risk.

✨ Consider the benefits: … Well, I suppose some of you did ask for skincare tips.

Vote wisely, my friends. The fate of Rivendell’s collective dignity may hang in the balance.

Oh dear- Eredin's holding a toasting fork- my lord, I suggest you make haste-

By the stars, this is a catastrophe of the highest order!!!!!

Eredin’s patience is vast. He is kind, understanding, and slow to anger. But there are sacred things in this world—things one does not touch, not even in jest. And chief among them is Eredin’s cocoa!!!

Glorfindel, that reckless menace, has trespassed upon this most hallowed of territories!! And not merely in some small way—no, he has depleted the supply. There is no telling what consequences this folly shall bring!

A toasting fork, you say? He is already armed?!?!!!? I am on my way!!

In your esteemed and undoubtedly objective opinion, who is the handsomest Elf to walk these lands? And I don’t mean ‘oh, they have inner beauty’ or ‘all Elves are fair’—no, no, I’m talking cold, hard, superficial attractiveness. The kind that makes even the wisest of sages pause mid-lecture, the kind that could cause an Orc to rethink its life choices, the kind that makes bards insufferable for centuries.

Are we talking the effortless, golden-haired drama of Glorfindel? The refined, brooding excellence of Elrond in his ‘exhausted single father who still looks incredible’ era? Does Legolas count, or is he automatically disqualified for being too much of a poster boy? Is Thranduil on the list, or do his personality and overwhelming aura of ‘I’m better than you’ cancel out his cheekbones?

I need the definitive ranking, Lindir.

If anyone can provide a structured, fully annotated, aesthetically sound judgment, it’s you. And if you say ‘beauty is subjective,’ I swear by Eru, I will cause a minor administrative disaster in Rivendell just to see how fast you notice.

Ah.

*Stops meticulously reorganizing scrolls*

You come to me with a question so grave, so unfathomably dangerous, it could cause diplomatic incidents spanning ages.

A query that could ignite wars between realms, have poets weeping into their parchment, and force me—me—to render a judgment that may never be forgiven.

And yet, here I stand. Bravely. Heroically. Willing to risk everything for the sake of objective truth.

You wanted superficial attractiveness? Cold, hard, devastating beauty? Very well. Prepare yourself. This will be petty. This will be unapologetic. This will be factual.

✨ THE DEFINITIVE RIVENDELL-RATIFIED ELF HOTNESS RANKING ✨ (By Lindir)

(Yes, I gave it an official title. You’re welcome.)

LAST PLACE: Thranduil Yes. Thranduil. Come for me, Mirkwood. I fear you not. While no one can deny the impact of those cheekbones—so sharp they could likely cut mithril—the sheer audacity of that personality cancels it all out. The “I’m better than you” aura? Too much. The endless dramatics? Exhausting. Also, have you ever tried to have a conversation with him? It’s like talking to a glass of vintage wine that keeps reminding you it’s better than you’ll ever be. Minus points for pettiness. (Also: I’m petty.)

FIFTH PLACE: Legolas Listen, he’s pretty. We know. But he’s the obvious choice. Poster boy energy. The hair? Immaculate. The skin? Glowing. But too polished. Too perfect. Has he ever suffered? Has he ever known the pain of paperwork? No. And thus, no depth. Minus points for effortless ease. Some of us work very hard to look this tired and elegant.

FOURTH PLACE: Gil-galad Ah, the High King. Golden aura. Regal presence. The drama. He’s like a sunrise that also judges you for your life choices. The crown helps—everything looks better with a bit of sparkle. However, too perfect. His flawlessness makes one suspicious. What are you hiding, Your Majesty? Minus points for suspiciously perfect posture.

THIRD PLACE: Haldir Now, here’s a contender. Stoic. Sharp. Has “will shame you in three languages” energy. Mysterious, aloof—he makes the trees themselves blush. I respect that. Bonus points for being just rude enough to be intriguing but polite enough that you question if you imagined it. Also, cape game? Impeccable.

SECOND PLACE: Elrond The brooding single-father aesthetic? Unmatched. The man walks into a room with the weariness of someone who’s raised twins, run a kingdom, survived multiple wars, and still looks like he models for ancient coinage. The exhausted “I can’t believe I have to deal with this” expression? Iconic. Plus, he has the rare gift of looking incredible while delivering devastating lectures. Bonus points for deep sighs and “I am surrounded by fools” energy.

FIRST PLACE: Eredin (Surprised? You shouldn’t be.) The sweetness. The gentle eyes. The cocoa addiction. The fact that he wields a sweet tooth like a weapon and still manages to look like he stepped out of a romantic ballad. Eredin has that approachable attractiveness. The kind that makes you believe he’d share pastries with you at dawn and also gently remind you to tag sensitive content. Softness with bite. A balance of “I bake” and “I will ruin you with polite concern.” Perfection.

✨ And there you have it. The ultimate ranking. Unbiased. Objective. Canon.

If you disagree? Feel free to file a complaint with Rivendell’s administration. I will personally place it at the bottom of Erestor’s “To-Ignore” pile.

—A final, utterly unbiased note:

I assure you, I am being completely objective in my judgment. Entirely impartial. My personal opinions have no bearing on these results.

It is simply not my fault that my poor, overworked scribe assistant, Eredin, possesses a level of charm and romantic competence (as the mortals say, “rizz”) that could put entire royal bloodlines to shame.

Truly, a tragedy for the rest of us.

—With the utmost grace, impeccable taste, and absolutely no bitterness whatsoever,

To all scholars, poets, wanderers, and wayward quills—

The halls of Rivendell have ever been a place of learning, of laughter, and of long, meandering conversations by candlelight. It is in that spirit that Mellon Hall opens its doors. A gathering place for scribes and storytellers, for those who weave words like silk and those who simply wish to listen.

Here, you may find companionship in quiet study, lively debate over the finer points of Elvish verse, or the warm comfort of shared tales by the fire. There is no expectation, no pressure—only an invitation. Whether you bring a tome full of stories or merely a curious heart, you are welcome.

Some matters of courtesy have been set in place to ensure this space remains one of harmony and ease. I implore you to peruse them at your leisure, and should you have questions, know that I am ever at your service.

Haha, I wish I had a solid ship name for them, but honestly, I’ve been so caught up in writing them that I never really came up with one! 😅 I’ve tried to brainstorm a few, but nothing’s really sticking, so I’m totally open to suggestions! 🫣💕

Here are a few that could maybe work (though I’ll probably just end up calling them “these Rivendell nerds” in my head 🤣):

EriDir – Very straightforward, right? 😂

Lindrin – Classic, simple, and still cute!

Eredir – Sounds kinda epic, right?

Linderin – A bit of a mix-up, but it has a certain ring to it!

CocoaBuddies – Because honestly, I just imagine them sipping cocoa together, being total softies X'D

But really, feel free to come up with something wild and fun! 😂 Whatever works, we can make it stick! Can even be something even more poetic!