#throneitout

You seem to be a very joyous (and secretly very funny) elf.

But has anyone in the Kingdom (besides Cìrdan) actually heard the sound of your laughter? 🧐

If so, who was it? And what was it that made you laugh?

*blushes… just slightly, nothing noticeable*

A joyous elf? Secretly funny? My dear questioner... I have spent centuries crafting an aura of wisdom and just the right amount of High-Kingly Exasperation, only for you to see through it in an instant. My reputation? In ruins.

But since the damage is done… the answer is:

Yes. Unfortunately, yes. (And not just once)  😩

The witnesses:

✔ Elrond—by accident. ✔ Galadriel—out of sheer survival. ✔ Celebrimbor—but that one was entirely his own fault.

Now, let’s talk about the first one. 1️⃣ Elrond. He was young. He was eager. He was trying very hard to be the perfect diplomat. 📜✨ His human half, however, was absolutely annihilated by Lindon’s wine. 🍷🍷 I lost him. And then I found him delivering a heartfelt speech: To a tree.

Not just any tree my friend. 🌳✨ Oh no. THE TREE. You know the one. The very gilded... the one with the golden leaves. Because... he thought IT WAS ME!!! He stood before it, hands clasped, voice steady, the picture of elven grace and professionalism. And then, with complete sincerity, he bowed. 🤵‍♂️🌳✨ I tried to hold it together. I really did... I even called: "Elrond." He turned. Not to me. But to the tree. He leaned in. 🤨🌳 “Do you concur?” I lost the battle. I wheezed. 🤣 I choked. ☠️ I saw the light of Aman. ✨ And then I realized... This was not going to end on its own. I had to physically drag Elrond away.

I still feel guilty. 😞

🤔 Nice question… I think I would go with Finw— wait. No. 🌊 Ulmo.

Yes, Ulmo. Vala of the Seas. The literal Lord of Waters. The guy who doesn’t even wear clothes!!! he just IS the ocean. Liquid fashion. Unmatched. 🌊😌👑

Why? BYE GOLD… no, seriously. 💀✨

1. Dramatic Wardrobe. Who needs fabric when you can show up wearing the entire sea? Beware Aquaman 🧜‍♂️

2. Weather Control = Peak Chaos Did someone annoy me? 🌩️⚡️💨 Instant rainstorm. Elrond sighs. Splash. 💦 He blinks in betrayal. Celebrimbor thinks jewerly. Bigger splash. 🌊 He does not try again. Galadriel dares to challenge me. TSUNAMI mode activated. 💦🌊 She disappears for a FULL five seconds. I sit. No one speaks. 😏

3. Círdan Would Absolutely Lose It. He’s been telling me to sail West for years. If I stroll into Lindon literally wearing the ocean, he’s either going to ascend to a higher plane ✨… or pass out. Either way? Worth it. 😈

4. Never Need Moisturizer Again. Eternal saltwater magic? Hydration at an elven god-tier level. My skin? Like a baby. A divinely-blessed-ocean-kissed-ethereally-radiant-baby. ✨💙😘

Sincerely soggy, Gil-galad ⛈️

🎶 I feel it... It's coming... Rain 🎶

Gold? Oh, absolutely my favorite (not in excess) though. 🙄 Someone must have misheard Gil-galad as Gil-gaudy, 🌟 and now I’m strutting around like a giant, walking sunbeam. ✨ Let’s not pretend I had much of a choice over protocol, ‘Radiant,’ the council said. ‘Inspiring,’ they insisted. ‘Blinding,’ not that they care how I feel. Do I pull it off? Naturally.... lawlessly. But honestly, between us? I’m one shimmering robe away from being mistaken for a gilded chandelier. 🕯️✨

🧝🏻‍♀️🥺❓ ... 🤔

💨 A gasp. Loud. Too LOUD.

Heads turn. The entire court rushes in to see what has startled the High King.

A creature. Small. Furry. Impossibly round.

“This creature… it wears my face!! 😱👑 Is this a diplomatic request? 📜 A challenge? ⚔️  A plea for aid?? 🆘🔥”

Elrond: “My lord, it is just a...”

“Peredhel, please. Not now.” 😤

⚡ The air thickens. A strange presence looms. 👀 The cat’s pupils dilate. It knows.

Galadriel: “…There is something… evilly familiar about it.” 😐✨ Círdan: “It is older than it should be.” 🧓⚓ Celebrimbor: “The craftsmanship… is too perfect.” 🤔💍

Power thrums in the air. ✨ The cat lifts a single paw. 🐾 Knowing. Waiting. JUDGING!!

👑 Gil-galad FLINCHES. (📜 A scribe hurriedly begins composing his final words.)

Elrond: “High King… yield. We are not ready for this war.” 💀 . Then... . Galadriel: “…CELEBORN??” 😱🔥

👑 Gil-galad CHOKES. The guards exchange panicked glances. A soldier gasps. A maiden swoons. 💞

💀 Elrond COLLAPSES. Fully unconscious.

🍷 Círdan makes no comment.

📜 The scribe drops his quill. This is no longer a lament. This is prophecy.

🐱 The cat blinks again. It accepts its fate.

It’s been two days!!! (I was in a coma, remember? 🤣🤣🤣🤣)

Wait… First, what were the other two times you laughed? Please, please, precious, please?

My dear!!! two days? it's been a week. 😅 you really were in a coma. Tragic. 😱 I´m so so so deeply sorry... 😭 And, of course, let's start:  2️⃣ Galadriel - It started as a normal council meeting. War strategies. Logistics. The council was focused. I was being responsible. I promise. 😌👑

And then Galadriel walked in. Covered in mud. Dripping wet. Looking like she had just waged war on a hay and won. 🌾⚔️ She sat down without a word. The room stared.

I tried to be professional. I really did. Deep breaths, Gil-galad. Do not engage. “…Everything alright, Galadriel?” (Yeah, well…  I couldn't help.)

She exhaled sharply and brushed a leaf out of her hair. “I was wrong about the horse.” 🐎 

The W.H.A.T.

⚓ Círdan started physically vibrating  (Oh, he was laughing. AT ME!!)

I blinked. “The… horse?” 🎠 🐎 🦄

“The horse,” she repeated. “The horse was not, in fact, an agent of Sauron.” 👁️🔥

The room fell deathly silent.

“…I’m sorry,” I finally managed, tears already forming. “Are you saying that you—”

“I may have interrogated your horse.”

The tea. My tea. It betrayed me. It WENT DOWN THE WRONG WAY!!! I choked. I coughed. I couldn’t breathe. I started fighting for my life in real-time. ☠️🫖💥

Elrond achieved astral projection, but Galadriel was faster… and she did what any seasoned warrior would do.

She tackled me. Full force. SHE THREW ME TO THE FLOOR. 🫡💪 “ITS THE TEA!” she declared heroically, attempting to wrestle the air out of me. All the room stood.

Oh… I saw Valinor. I heard the Ainur mocking me in song. The very fabric of my soul cracked…. And then I breathed.

Galadriel, dead serious, leaned over me and asked me, “…Gilly?”

And that’s when I lost it. Completely.

I wheezed. I gasped. I laughed so hard I choked again. 😩💀

Círdan? Useless on the floor. 😂⚓ Elrond? Crying silently into the void. 🕳️😭 Celebrimbor? Gone 🛠️✌️

And me?

Greetings, my friend! My morning routine. let’s call it the calm before the storm.

I rise with the sun, or more accurately, I roll out of bed as it’s creeping over the horizon. (Who really enjoys waking up early? Even when you’re the High King of the Noldor, it’s still a battle. 🛏️☀️)

First, a moment of reflection, or, more realistically, me dramatically staring into the distance and muttering, “Valar, if you’re listening, just one peaceful day. No chaos, no drama. Please? Please? I’ll even take half a day.” Spoiler: I never get it. 🙄🙏

Then comes tea, strong enough to wake the dead and possibly intimidate a Balrog ☕🔥. It’s the only thing that makes me semi-functional before I get ambushed by Galadriel’s latest “I’m going to kill Sauron” plan and Elrond, pacing around looking at me like he’s got twenty different solutions to problems I didn’t even know I had.

After tea, time for stretches and exercise (yes, I stretch. No, you don’t get to see that). How else do you think I manage all of this?

Next comes a bath, and robes, because yes, I do need to look and smell like a king after all. 🛁✨ Even gold robes don’t work magic alone, you know. Honestly? Today, I seriously considered just walking into council wrapped in a gold towel, throwing my arms out, and declaring, “Deal with it. 😏👑” Then, I’d leave them to faint in silence. Maybe tomorrow.

Then comes breakfast—fruit, toast, maybe a pastry if I’m feeling dangerous (because who doesn’t love a little rebellion before the day kicks into gear?). 🍎🍞🥐  It’s basically fuel for the soul-crushing review of the council’s agenda, which is always 90% problems I didn’t cause but am still somehow responsible for fixing.

Let’s be honest, “technically,” I shouldn’t indulge in mortal pleasures like steak. As an Elf, my diet is supposed to consist of fruits, grains, and the finest offerings of Yavanna. 🌿✨ Yes, you guessed it right, my diet is also a constant topic of council debate. And while some advisors would love to crown me Lord of the Leaves 🥬👑, I’ll admit: on rare, highly supervised occasions, I’ve allowed myself a bit of indulgence. 🍷🥩✨ SHH… don’t make a fuss. (Just a feast here, a grand ceremony there…)

Having clarified this:

The art of the steak requires a balance of precision and patience, much like ruling a kingdom (except the kingdom doesn’t sizzle, and the council doesn’t come with a side of mashed potatoes… and dessert. Oh, dessert! 🔥👑). Now, back to the steak:

Rare? Too reckless. I prefer my battles well-thought-out, not my meals like an impromptu orc raid. 🍖💥

Well-done? I already have enough of that, thank you. Some things need to be tender (my meals and my patience included).

Medium-rare? Ah, perfection! Just the right amount of precision, like an expert spear wielder 😏… but significantly more delicious. 👑✨

But well, as long as half the court watches my plate like it’s the fate of Middle-earth itself. 🍽️✨ Veggies, legumes, couscous, and kale will determine my fate.

With warmth (and one salad to rule them all 🥬✨),

Gil-galad 👑✨