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shirefantasies · 1 month

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Omg of course you can do something with the idea if you want! I don't mind at all and the fact you liked the idea so much makes me so happy💕

And I'm also fine with being called girl in like a gender neutral way yk like the same way people say guys to refer to everyone sometimes, so no worries with that either!

-🌱

YEEEEEEEEEEEEHAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWW with permission then I present.......

A Failure of Words- Haldir x GN!Reader

Warnings: brief implication of past trauma, GOOFY ELF CONTENT 😌🤙🏻

“What are you going to do, then, shoot it down?”

And you had laughed at that. Was it really so funny? Complaining about a cloud and his brother suggests firing an arrow at it? Haldir scoffed. Surely your giggling was only to respond politely to their inane humor.

You had been excelling in your target practice of late, your skills with a bow increasing thanks to Haldir as much as his brothers, while Rúmil and Orophin were more to thank for your progress in Elvish. Necessity, of course, as he was the only one with any skills in Common, something you had initially bonded over. Yet somehow your simple bond with his brothers seemed...different. Had Haldir himself ever made you laugh so? Had he ever tried?

"Come, now," Orophin addressed you by name, "hit three more targets and we'll show you that old painting of our beloved Haldir!"

Grinning, you took up your weapon again, stretching some exertion from your muscles before you followed the others' motions toward the next dangling piece of chipped wood. Rolling his eyes, Haldir followed.

Rúmil struggled several times to pick up the roll he'd dropped, and upon final success at lifting it he thrashed about as if the thing was fighting back. Again you laughed, a hand falling to the table you sat at.

"My father used to do that too- it's as if you knew! I had no idea you two were so funny. I suppose Haldir is the serious one," you teased, gaze shifting to the eldest brother.

All this time he'd thought of them as the ridiculous ones more than himself an outlier. They had not been promoted, neither had bothered to learn the common tongue, both preferred an aimless life in the trees to the ambitions of the world, protection of what they held dear. Not that they couldn't fight, but... Was Haldir himself the outcast? Heart sinking, he gazed around the table, taking in how easily conversation flowed between you and his brothers. Like the breeze. Haldir was the one who had accepted you when you first came to Lothlórien as a refugee, fought for an outsider to stay despite his usual prejudices. The torture you'd had to endure at the hands of your captors made him sick to even imagine, and fortuitously Galadriel had agreed.

He was the only one who truly knew your secrets, and so he had desired to be the first to truly make you smile again; now, it seemed, his brothers had robbed him of that, forced him back into his station as "the serious one". Worst of all, perhaps not the one who would hold your heart.

Instant it was not, but the elf had found himself falling for you more and more during his time as your guide. Watching your wonder as you were led higher and higher into the sun-soaked trees, chuckling at your confusion when you pronounced and repeated new Elvish words. Seeing you bloom like a sunflower finding its roots once more. Always had he struggled with displays of affection, and perhaps that had cost him more than time. Or else this was another challenge for the captain, a new type of battle to undertake: correcting the many times his words failed him in the face of your fair spirit.

"You might be surprised," he finally spoke, interrupting his own whirlwind of thoughts again to meet your eyes, "you are aware, after all, of how much I taught them."

Rúmil and Orophin's heads both tilted, gazing at their eldest brother with new interest. Newly widening smiles. Knowing ones. An unfortunate side effect he would deal with later. For the time being, there were more pressing matters to deal with.

"Of course I am," you replied, taking a sip from your goblet of water, "Tracking, archery... And surely they would not know so much of your history were it not for you."

"And about the beasts of the land, of course." A breeze blew through his hair as he inhaled, next line at the ready. "After all, my name is Hal-deer."

Groaning, Orophin and Rúmil both simultaneously dropped their heads into their hands, shaking them with great disapproval. Lacking fluency though they may have been, they knew enough to recognize such a play on words, and it was clear they did not like it. Too bad- it wasn't for them.

You? Bursting into laughter, you clapped your hands lightly, head thrown back in amusement that had Haldir grinning widely for the first time in likely far too long.

Still shaking their heads, both younger brothers excused themselves, Orophin practically shoving Rúmil away from the table as they scrambled off to refill their drinkware.

"Never have I heard you make a joke, Haldir! Why now? And why one so-" Words failed you, too, inquiry wholly aborted by a fresh bout of laughter. Well did it convey the rest of your question, however.

Suppressing a wince, Haldir willed his smile to return. Wait, perhaps it looked forced. Was he overthinking this? His brothers would probably say yes.

His brothers. "My brothers...they make you happy in a way I seemingly never can. Perhaps I envied them." His voice emerged as little more than a whisper, eyelids fluttering half-shut as if they could conceal him from your vision.

Your brows furrowed at this. Head giving a faint tilt of confusion, you leaned forward, forced his grey eyes to meet your gaze. "I...I confess I do see your brothers differently," you told him, your own voice shy, "I always wished to think of them like my own brothers."

Heart lightening, Haldir replied, perhaps a bit too readily, "You can."

"No," you shook your head, paused, "well..."

It was your turn to drop your gaze, your posture straightening as you gave a supplying incline of the head, clearly hoping Haldir followed.

He did. Did he? Jaw dropping slightly, he reached out a tentative hand, saw that you did not flinch. Lifting up your gaze gently by your chin, Haldir spoke again.

"That you may wish as well, for though my words have failed me again and again it is the very same in my heart. It vexed me not being the one to make you smile, to win you over, when your name had been so inscribed upon my heart. But if you'll have the serious one, he shall have you."

Your answer came in the form of a kiss that had his heart soaring, one a bit too quick for Haldir's liking, but he quite literally had all the time in the world if he wished. He could wait. For once, his words had not failed him.

"Again and again, my Hal-dear," you replied with a devilish grin.

The golden-haired elf let his own face fall into his hand at that one. "I'll not be forgetting that one anytime soon, will I?"

As fate would have it, Rúmil and Orophin designated that moment to return, whooping as they set their goblets back down, clearly having spied upon him through some curtain or another as they often had in their youth.

"Not in the slightest," they answered for you, voices perfectly synchronized.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @kilibaggins @joonies-word @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia | Reply/Ask/Message to join 🥰

#lord of the rings #lotr #lotr imagines #lotr x reader #haldir #haldir x reader #haldir x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #humor #ask #anon #🌱 anon #thanks for letting me use this we need more elf crack hehe 😌#hope you got a kick out of this too sproutie!!!

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emmyspov · 1 year

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Coming home (Haldir x reader)

author's note: i finished this while eating breakfast this morning - can you tell i'm sad and touch starved?? this is totally self-indulgent, i love him :( haldir brushes through reader's hair, otherwise no descriptions of looks. please reblog this if you like it and let me know if you want to be tagged in the future <3 english (still) isn’t my first language. also, please don't copy my work :)

warnings: nothing i'm aware of, just domestic fluff :)

word count: 0.9k

edit is my own :)

Haldir opened the door and stepped into the hallway. He just came home from a long and exhausting meeting with Lady Galadriel, but when he noticed the sweet smell of baked goods and spotted you asleep in your shared bed, clothed in one of his night gowns, his heart felt light again.

He knew you were waiting for him to return by the lit candle on your bedside drawer and the open book next to you and for only a second, an overwhelming amount of love knocked the air out of his lungs.

You looked absolutely ethereal. You always did, but seeing you dressed in his clothes in your shared home did something to the elf. The way you trusted him with your life and how you loved him endlessly made him emotional.

"What have you done to me, my love", he murmured and stepped closer to you. "You own my heart."

After getting ready for bed himself, the ellon carefully laid down next to you, trying not to wake you - but no luck.

"Haldir?" You turned around to your husband, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

"Shh. Sleep, meleth. You work so much", Haldir spoke quietly and cupped your cheek with his hand.

You leaned into the touch, closing your eyes again to really relish in the gentle contact.

"Look at yourself, marchwarden", you murmured and sighed softly. "You're gone for months and I know you don't get enough rest during your patrols. And when you come home, you take care of me. I admire your protectiveness, but you have to look after yourself, too."

Your husband's hand wandered from your cheek to the side of your head, carefully brushing through your hair before it settled on the small of your back, pulling you close to him.

"For me, looking after myself means being here, at home, with you. You bring me endless happiness, my love."

You let your head fall onto his chest as you wrapped your arms around his waist.

"Gi melin."

At your words, Haldir pulled you even closer into his side if that was even still possible and pressed a kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger there.

"You're too good to me", you whispered, but the elf shook his head.

"You deserve everything, meleth. And one day, I'll figure out how to give it to you."

It was your turn to shake your head before you kissed his jaw. "You are everything I could ever want, ever need. Your presence alone eases my hard days and makes my good ones better. I know my heart is safe with you."

Haldir was at a loss for words. He never thought someone would come along who'd see more in him than a marchwarden and yet here you were, looking at him as if he himself had put the stars in the sky.

Still, he didn't know what to say to you. He was never good with romantic speeches and he despised it. You deserved to be wooed with words, too.

So instead, he cupped your face in his hands and leaned down to press his lips against yours.

What he didn't realise was that you weren't waiting for a big love confession. Your husband has always been someone who showed his love through actions - just like he was doing now.

"Hal", you mumbled and fisted his gown to ground yourself. How he was able to make you weak in the knees with a simple kiss was beyond your understanding - not that you cared. All sorts of physical contact with Haldir felt like coming home.

He smiled at your flushed cheeks after you parted and let his thumb brush over your jawline.

"What did you bake earlier", he asked and you needed a second to register his question.

"Oh", you answered, "Rúmil and Orophin came over earlier and asked if the four of us wanted to have a picnic together tomorrow afternoon if you're free. I thought that's a wonderful idea and then I saw that some of the wild berries in our garden are ripe, so I baked a cake with them that we can eat together then."

Haldir could feel himself getting choked up again. You, his found family, getting along with his brothers made his heart skip a beat.

"You are wonderful."

He could see the protest on your lips, but you knew better than to disagree. While he had won all the playful arguments, he was serious about you not talking yourself down.

"Thank you", you whispered instead, accepting the compliment, as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

The elf chuckled as he felt the heat radiating from your cheeks and let his hand run up and down your lower back soothingly. "You're doing so well, meleth."

You stayed like that, your body half on top of Haldir's, his arm wrapped around you and your hand laying on his chest, right over his heart.

His heartbeat must have lulled you to sleep because the next time the marchwarden looked down at you, your eyes were closed and you were taking deep, even breaths.

Carefully, he turned around to blow out the candle before settling back into the former position, letting his fingers dance over your skin and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"Coming home to you will forever be the highlight of my day", he whispered before letting your breathing and the soft glow of the moon lull him into a restful slumber, too.

meleth = love

gi melin = i love you

Taglist: @shadowhuntyi

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runawaymun · 2 months

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Melpomaen / Rúmil in #7 for the YCH perhaps? 👀

Here they are!!! Thank you for putting in a request! :D I haven't drawn my boy Lindir in a while, so this was really fun.

#Don't think too hard about the background i never know what to do with them idk #i am trying to force myself to stop putting characters on a blank canvas lmao #I think I am getting better?#anyway #my art #rumil #lindir #lindir x rumil

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from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras · 1 month

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The Guardian, Chapter 4

In which we finally get a look inside Mildrithe’s head and what she’s thinking/feeling about her new elf friend. As a reminder, Haldir and Mildrithe have just arrived at the closest warden post, where he intends to deliver her to the capable hands of someone else who can get her the rest of the way to Caras Galadhon for help while he goes back to his post to resume his duties. Except he’s not feeling great about that plan anymore. Parts one, two and three are available if you want to catch up. And, because I will use it until the end of time, here is the beloved official artwork of this story, courtesy of the many talents of @brigwife

*****

Mildrithe followed Haldir up a thin rope ladder and into yet another tree. Before the last few days, she would have found this odd, but he seemed to consider trees a perfectly natural place to spend time. And she didn’t mind. Nothing had ever hurt her while in a tree, and she couldn’t say the same for being on the ground.

Like the tall beech where the two of them had spent the previous night, this tree also had a shelter built into its boughs, but the two structures couldn’t have been more different. While last night’s dwelling place was a stark, bare platform, this one had multiple levels spaced throughout the branches, and each contained stores of food and weapons, bedrolls, blankets, water cisterns and other accessories of daily living. And most significantly, this platform had other people on it–people who looked much like Haldir, tall and strong with golden or white-blonde hair and pointed ears. Ellath, he had called them.

Her arrival on the platform drew a lot of interest, and she shrank a little from all the eyes suddenly on her. Haldir spoke rapidly to these ellath, and she guessed from the sound of her own name that he was explaining to them who she was and how she came to be there, though there was much that he still didn’t know, that she kept locked away in the back corners of her own mind. But his words took the attention off of her, and she used the moment to surreptitiously observe his companions.

Rúmil she had met, and he seemed to be closest to Haldir both in appearance and in manner, but there were six others who crowded around as he spoke. She had the distinct sense that Haldir was in charge–the others showed clear deference to him–and she wondered for a moment if he was the king of his people. But, then, he didn’t act like any king she had heard of, not when he spent his time wandering alone in a forest, climbing in and out of trees and eating only whatever small scraps of food he carried on him.

Her eyes swept back over the new faces. She found them all fascinating to look at, both so similar to the men she knew and yet also undefinably different, and she was staring intently when the words of her mother suddenly rang in her ears. “No one likes to be gawked at, Mildrithe.” The memory of that admonishment sent both a hot blush to her cheeks and a wrenching pain to her chest. She worked so hard not to have those memories, but still they came, unbidden, to remind her of her old life. She sniffled a little in an attempt to keep control of herself, and though he didn’t look down or break from the conversation he was having, Haldir heard the sniffle and his hand found hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

After a lengthy discussion, the group dispersed, each member going on to some specific task. Rúmil brought her water and food–fresh fruit, honeycomb and nuts–which she accepted eagerly, having gone days with no food at all and then being confined only to what Haldir had available in his small pack. She dug in with enthusiasm, making a bit of a mess with the sticky honey, and for a time she thought of nothing but sating her own hunger. Halfway through her rations, however, the words of her mother once again sprang unexpectedly to her mind –“what’s ours is ours to share”—and the sting of remembrance did not stop her from turning obediently to look for Haldir, to ensure he had food of his own. He sat alone a short distance away, looking sorrowfully at a small white flower that he turned between his fingers. She recognized it right away as the niphredil flower she had given him the day before, and the unhappiness of his expression sent a warning chill through her. Something was wrong, but she had no idea what it could be.

As she picked at the remains of her food and tried not to brood on the meaning behind his sadness, the other wardens around him were busy stocking several packs in preparation for some kind of departure. Eventually a pack was handed to her, and she looked inside to find her own water canteen, some wrapped food, and a blanket. Any notion that they were going to stay here at this strange little tree camp faded quickly from her mind, and she was not surprised when Haldir and Rúmil gestured for her to follow them back to the ground just a few minutes later.

Rúmil and two others hoisted packs to their shoulders, and Haldir helped to secure hers to her back with several straps. She accepted the help but watched with rising concern as he made no move to lift his own pack or join the little group of travelers. The food she had just eaten suddenly felt like lead in her stomach, and she stared into the deep blue of his eyes, trying to force some kind of sign or acknowledgment that would quiet her fears and assure her that she was drawing the wrong conclusions from the activity around her. Instead, he looked away, and her concern edged toward panic.

When the others seemed ready to leave at last, a few final words were exchanged between Haldir and Rúmil, and then Haldir knelt down in front of her. He opened his mouth as though to speak but thought better of it and took her hand instead, holding it between both of his. When he released his grip, the niphredil blossom sat in her palm. He turned away quickly, rubbing a hand roughly across his chin, and went to stand by the ladder, looking down at the ground as Rúmil lightly gripped her elbow and tugged her into motion.

She staggered forward in unthinking compliance, but each time a foot struck the ground a voice in her head screamed at her to stop. Not to move even a single step further away from the one person she trusted. Tears welled up in her eyes and started to slide down her cheeks, and by the tenth step the voice in her head was so loud that she clutched at her own ears. It made no sense, even in her own mind, to be so attached to him already, but the feeling was undeniably there. He had shown her true kindness, the first person in her life for many months who didn’t want to scare her or hurt her or use her. He was awkward, but he was gentle. Her heart told her that he was safe. That he was good. And she absolutely didn’t want to be parted from him now in order to go on with total strangers.

She looked back over her shoulder in desperation, and when her eyes met Haldir's, a sob ripped through her. Her view of him blurred through her tears and she whimpered his name, but always she felt Rúmil’s hand on her arm, pulling her onward.

“Daro!”

The word exploded from Haldir’s lips and echoed in the trees. Rúmil dropped her elbow and came to a halt, and she used the freed arm to wipe a sleeve across her eyes. With some tears cleared away, she could see Haldir rushing forward, his pack in his hand. He spoke urgently to Rúmil, pointing both back in the direction they had come and forward in the direction they were headed. Rúmil interjected a few times, but before long he raised his hands in a gesture of concession and turned to head back to the tree camp. The other two wardens in the traveling group, Esgalorn and Mirdanion, exchanged looks with one another, brows raised. But neither said anything, and Haldir ignored them. He used the corner of his cloak to wipe the remaining tears from her face, took her hand, and started walking.

The immensity of her relief brought a whole new energy to her spirit. She felt that she could have easily sprinted the entire distance to wherever they were going, though, in fact, she had no idea where that was or how long it would take. But she hustled along at his side anyway, and whenever he glanced down at her, she beamed at him, eager to show just how glad she was to be with him. He always smiled back, but once his eyes were looking forward again the smile would fade. Something still seemed to weigh on his mind, and she reasoned that he was probably worrying about what would happen next, once they arrived wherever they were headed. She had been that way once, too—thinking about the future, making plans, trying to anticipate later problems or griefs—but not anymore. If the last year had taught her anything, it was that the future couldn’t be counted on. All she had was the present and how she felt in the here and now. And right now, at his side, was good. She wished she could tell him that.

The four of them traveled on for the rest of the day, Haldir and Mildrithe together in front and Mirdanion and Esgalorn following behind, keeping up a steady patter of conversation between them. The sound of their words faded into background noise to Mildrithe, and she focused only on what was immediately in front of her. She hopped in and out of the dappled shadows cast on the ground by the swaying, leafy branches above and tracked the sun as it worked its way across the sky. Eventually twilight settled on the forest, the first bright stars appearing in the purplish-blue overhead, and Mildrithe had just begun to wonder whether they were going to spend the night at another makeshift camp when Haldir pointed to faint, twinkling lights on the horizon. Some large city or settlement lay ahead, just across a narrow moat and behind a large, circular wall of green earth. They soon picked up a path that skirted along the wall and at last reached a set of great silver gates. Inside was a city unlike anything Mildrithe had ever imagined.

Caras Galadhon was filled with immense golden-leaved trees, each with a silvery smooth trunk, and the entire city was built into their canopy. White ladders led into many of the trees while others had wooden staircases that wound around the trunks and up into the highest boughs. Lanterns bobbed in the branches, throwing out little golden halos of light, and in this glow could be seen people moving to and fro—tall, graceful people, more of the ellath that Mildrithe was now growing used to seeing. But even as elves were becoming a normal presence in her life, their city took her breath away, and she stopped in her tracks to gape about her. Her mind rushed to catalog beautiful details, to automatically store them away so that she could later describe even a fraction of the magic of this place to her unbelieving family back home, and only the painfully sharp self-correction that she would never have that chance was enough to break the spell of her awe and amazement. She dug her fingernails into her palm, pushing until the stinging in her hand drew her mind away from the feelings and memories that had begun to seep back into her thoughts, and then she hurried after Haldir toward a hill where the largest tree she had ever seen sat like a crown atop the slope.

Someone dressed all in white came down a set of stairs from the tree, moving so smoothly and calmly he almost appeared to float. Esgalorn and Mirdanion bowed, and she noted that even Haldir gave this new figure deep respect. He was clearly someone of importance in the city, perhaps their leader, and so when Haldir gestured for her to come forward, she also bowed. This seemed to amuse the leader, and she hoped that was a good sign, an indication that she would be viewed with favor. He bent down and took a long, slow look at her, and though the scrutiny made her uncomfortable, she didn’t feel that his eyes had any hostility in them. He seemed rather to be gathering information, able to discern far more about her from just his penetrating gaze than she could ever determine from merely looking back at him. She shifted nervously on her feet until he stood at last and turned back to Haldir. A short, low conversation between them followed, and when some point of agreement seemed to be reached, he nodded to Haldir and to her before reascending the stairs, gliding off out of sight.

Hadir dismissed Esgalorn and Mirdanion, who turned off in another direction, and then led Mildrithe down a series of curved paths away from the center of the city. It had by now grown dark, but the pathways and trees were well lit and Haldir seemed certain of his route. She assumed they were headed to a place where they could rest for the night, and their surroundings did get quieter and less crowded as they went. At last, he stopped at the foot of a curved staircase that led up into yet another tree dwelling. He patted a hand against his chest and pointed up the stairs, repeating the gesture several times until he seemed confident that she understood. “Mine,” was her interpretation, and as she followed him up the stairs, she felt a wave of excited curiosity at the idea of seeing his home, the private space where he would be most himself.

The sound of her little boots clomping on the stair treads reverberated in the trees, and soon a curious face appeared at a railing above, drawn by the unexpected noise. A woman peered down at them, and when she saw Haldir on the landing she gave a small gasp and began to run toward him, holding up the hem of her dress so that she could race down the stairs at maximum speed. She had the same elegant beauty and pointed ears as everyone else in the city, though her hair and eyes were both a rich dark brown, and her face was lit up by a wide, brilliant smile. Haldir dropped his pack in just enough time to catch her as she threw herself into his arms, and he spun her around, laughing and smiling with a joyful ease that Mildrithe had never seen from him. She watched their affectionate reunion with unabashed fascination, and her questions about who this woman could be were soon answered when they shared a deep, loving kiss. An inadvertent giggle popped out of Mildrithe’s mouth at the sight of that kiss, and the couple quickly separated, blushing but still smiling at one another.

Haldir rushed through a bunch of words, gesturing repeatedly at Mildrithe, who stood up extra straight and smoothed a hand quickly over her hair and down the front of her dress. If this woman was important to Haldir, then she was important to Mildrithe, and she wanted to make the best possible first impression. At last, he spoke Mildrithe’s name and then pointed to the woman. “Idhrien,” he said slowly and clearly, a hand on his wife’s arm. Mildrithe smiled at her and proudly repeated the words of greeting she had heard at the forest post. “Mae govannen, Idhrien.”

Idhrien stooped down in front of her until she was at Mildrithe’s eye level, and returned the smile. “Westu Mildrithe hal,” she said, and Mildrithe’s heart cracked open in her chest.

She couldn’t remember how long it had been since she had heard her own language, since she had even that most basic comfort of being able to understand what was being said around her and about her. Over time, her awareness of the loss had dulled, but just to hear those few short words now brought back a feeling of warmth and familiarity that she had desperately missed. She would have wept with gratitude if she wasn’t also so eager to speak and to listen now that she finally could.

“How…how do you know those words?”

“My brother was a great lover of languages,” said Idhrien, “and he spent a fair amount of time traveling in your land and learning what he could. He then taught it to me so that he would have someone to practice with when he was home in Lórien.”

“Lórien?”

“That’s where you are. Haldir found you on our borders and brought you here to our chief city. He tells me that you’ve made a very long journey and that you’ve been a very brave girl. He’s proud of you.”

Mildrithe blushed with pleasure at the compliment and looked up at him, watching attentively from his wife’s side. “I want to thank him, but I don’t know how.”

Idhrien smiled again. “Don’t worry. He already knows.”

She stood and gestured for Mildrithe to follow, and they went the rest of the way up the stairs. Once inside their home, they gave her more food and water and a comfortable place to sit with soft cushions and a warm blanket. Idhrien offered her the chance to rest or to take a bath, but there was nothing Mildrithe wanted to do more than to talk—or, more precisely, to ask questions. She had a steady stream of them, about Lórien and elves, about living in a tree, about Haldir and what a marchwarden does, and Idhrien patiently answered them all, taking time to translate for Haldir as she went.

These were all things Mildrithe wanted to know, but they were also safe questions, about other things and other people. She studiously avoided any question about what might be planned for her—where she would go, who she would be with—because she wasn’t at all sure she would like the answer. But eventually, Idhrien seemed to notice the evasion, and she gently curtailed Mildrithe’s questions with one of her own.

“Would you like to know what’s going to happen now that you’re here?”

Mildrithe hugged a pillow to her chest, torn about how to answer. She didn’t want to say yes, but neither did she think she could say no. She settled instead on a vague, non-committal hummed noise.

“Right now, you’ll stay here with us until the Lord and Lady decide what’s to be done. You have nothing to fear from them; they’re good and kind people. Haldir has told Lord Celeborn what he knows, but they will surely have more questions about where you’re from and where you belong. Can you tell us about your home? Your family?”

Mildrithe’s initial joy at being allowed to stay with Haldir and Idhrien was replaced immediately by a heavy anxiety that flooded into her chest. To even think about her home and family was to break her own cardinal rule, and to talk about them with others—to say the words out loud and thereby make those words real—was unthinkable. Her little face grew hot, and she bunched up her skirt in her fists.

“Mildrithe? Are you alright?”

Idhrien was looking at her with real concern, but that only intensified Mildrithe’s distress. The last thing she wanted to do was to disappoint or upset them, but she had never told this story to anyone else. And she was terrified to do it now.

Haldir reached across to take Mildrithe’s hand, and he spoke to her directly for several moments. When he was done, he nodded at Idhrien.

“He says that he understands that you’re afraid, but he promises to keep you safe. He was honored to have your trust when you were together in the forest, and he hopes that you will honor him again by continuing to trust him now.”

Mildrithe looked from his hand up to his steady, calm eyes. The same eyes that had found her when she was lost. Watched over her while she slept. Noticed when she was hungry or thirsty or in pain. He had protected her at every turn, and he had offered her comfort and affection when even she could recognize that it wasn’t always easy for him to show his feelings. A realization slowly dawned on her–if she couldn’t share this pain with someone like him, someone who had shown her so much care, then she might never be able to share it with anyone. And the prospect of carrying it alone, perhaps for all the days of her life, suddenly felt much more terrifying than facing it together with him now.

She stood and inched hesitantly toward him, and he understood her intention right away, lifting her up to sit on his lap. She leaned her cheek against his chest, and for a time all three of them sat in silence, with only their quiet breathing and the soft beating of Haldir’s heart in her ear. And just when he began to wonder whether she had perhaps drifted off to sleep, she opened her mouth and began her story.

*****

Notes: “Daro” means “stop”/“halt”.

Idhrien (which means “thoughtful”) started life as a reader character in my Haldir story Three Weeks on the Nimrodel. She’s the same person here, just with a name. She’s a city warden in Caras Galadhon, though she and Haldir met and fell in love when she was posted temporarily to the border and found a way past his natural reserve and introversion by respecting it and making him feel at ease as himself. Even in that story, she had a brother that traveled in Rohan and taught her Rohirric, so that worked out well here, too!

I don’t have a super clear idea of where the next chapter is going, so it may take me a while. Just FYI.

#lotr #lord of the rings #tolkien #haldir #mildrithe #sweet reserved guys with the little girls who melt their hearts

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elithilanor · 1 year

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#lotr #elrond #Elithilanor polls #lord of the rings #Galadriel #Celeborn #Arwen #Haldir #Erestor #Rúmil #Orophin #Jeff Brody elf #Legolas

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warrioreowynofrohan · 1 month

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Silmarillion Daily - Of Fëanor, and the Dwarves

Two major developments today in Silm Daily!

First, Fëanor reaches the peak of his skills. I put this paragraph here (year 1250 of the Years of Trees) as it’s when History of Middle-earth dates his developement of the Tengwar (and also mentions his work on other gems, including the palantíri).

Fëanor is at this point around 70, which is still young for an elf (probably the Elven equivalent of mid-20s?).

Fëanor was tall, and fair of face, and masterful, his eyes piercingly bright and his hair raven-dark; in the pursuit of all his purposes eager and steadfast. Few ever changed his courses by counsel, none by force. He became of all the Noldor, then or after, the most subtle in mind and the most skilled in hand. In his youth, bettering the work of Rúmil, he devised those letters which bear his name, and which the Eldar used ever after; and he it was who, first of the Noldor, discovered how gems greater and brighter than those of the Earth might be made with skill. The first gems that Fëanor made were white and colourless, but being set under starlight they would blaze with blue and silver fires brighter than Helluin; and other crystals he made also, wherein things far away could be seen small but clear, as with the eyes of the eagles of Manwë. Seldom were the hands and mind of Fëanor at rest.

And, pretty much at the same time, we get the first meeting between the Sindar and the Dwarves, which actually goes very well! As an interesting note, by this time Khazad-dum is already well-established and flourishing; it could easily have been the oldest realm in Middle-earth.

It came to pass during the second age of the captivity of Melkor that Dwarves came over the Blue Mountains of Ered Luin into Beleriand. Themselves they named Khazâd, but the Sindar called them Naugrim, the Stunted People, and Gonnhirrim, Masters of Stone. Far to the east were the most ancient dwellings of the Naugrim, but they had delved for themselves great halls and mansions, after the manner of their kind, in the eastern side of Ered Luin; and those cities were named in their own tongue Gabilgathol and Tumunzahar. To the north of the great height of Mount Dolmed was Gabilgathol, which the Elves interpreted in their tongue Belegost, that is Mickleburg; and southward was delved Tumunzahar, by the Elves named Nogrod, the Hollowbold. Greatest of all the mansions of the Dwarves was Khazad-dûm, the Dwarrowdelf, Hadhodrond in the Elvish tongue, that was afterward in the days of its darkness called Moria; but it was far off in the Mountains of Mist beyond the wide leagues of Eriador, and to the Eldar came but as a name and a rumour from the words of the Dwarves of the Blue Mountains.

From Nogrod and Belegost the Naugrim came forth into Beleriand; and the Elves were filled with amazement, for they had believed themselves to be the only living things in Middle-earth that spoke with words or wrought with hands, and that all others were but birds and beasts. But they could understand no word of the tongue of the Naugrim, which to their ears was cumbrous and unlovely; and few ever of the Eldar have achieved the mastery of it. But the Dwarves were swift to learn and indeed were more willing to learn the Elven-tongue than to teach their own to those of alien race. Few of the Eldar went ever to Nogrod or Belegost, save Eöl of Nan Elmoth and Maeglin his son; but the Dwarves trafficked into Beleriand, and they made a great road that passed under the shoulders of Mount Dolmed and followed the course of the River Ascar, crossing Gelion at Sarn Athrad, the Ford of Stones, where battle after befell. Ever cool was the friendship between the Naugrim and the Eldar, though much profit they had one of the other; but at that time those griefs that lay between them had not yet come to pass, and King Thingol welcomed them. But the Naugrim gave their friendship more readily to the Noldor in after days than to any others of Elves and Men, because of their love and reverence for Aulë; and the gems of the Noldor they praised above all other wealth. In the darkness of Arda already the Dwarves wrought great works, for even from the first days of their Fathers they had marvellous skill with metals and with stone; but in that ancient time iron and copper they loved to work, rather than silver or gold.

Given the mentions of both language and craft in both passages here, the occurence of both these events at around the same time makes me wonder about what could have happened if all the Elves had remained in Middle-earth. Fëanor and the dwarves might have really hit it off, and who knows what inventions they’d have come up with.

#tolkien #the silmarillion #silmarillion daily #feanor #dwarves #sindar #thingol

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polutrope · 5 months

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And:

30. Embarrassing childhood videos // with celegorm + aredhel <3 thank you!!!

Thank you for the prompt! Here's a little something from my Modern AU Holiday Prompts. 1.2k, Rated G, No warnings except a little swearing.

“How disappointing!” Nerdanel said as they stepped out into the crisp evening air. “I was really looking forward to that film.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you go to the indie theatres, mom. Their equipment is shit.”

Aredhel elbowed Celegorm in the ribs.

Ignoring him, Nerdanel inhaled deeply with a contented smile on her face. “The night is young and I have the rare pleasure of my son’s company. I had seven of you, you’d think it wouldn’t be so difficult to spend with one of you, and yet — oh, and you, Aredhel! I am so glad to have you back around.”

“Mom, please.”

“What? I am. So! What should we do instead?”

Celegorm gave Aredhel a look that suggested he’d been hoping the cancelled showing of The Helcaraxë Express would mean the evening with his mother, which she had been doggedly trying to make happen for weeks — ever since little Celebrimbor let slip to grandma that uncle Celegorm was seeing “that loud short lady with the poufy hair” again — was likewise cancelled.

“Oh, I know!” said Nerdanel, setting an affectionate hand on Aredhel’s shoulder. “Why don’t you two come over to watch a movie at our place? I’ll give you a ride home after. Or homes, if you prefer.” She winked at Aredhel.

A panicked look seized Celegorm’s face. “Uh, I don’t know if that’s—”

“Don’t worry, your father is at the office with Rúmil working on that app, he won’t be home until midnight. At the earliest.”

Aredhel looped her arm through Celegorm’s and grinned. “That sounds wonderful, Nerdanel.”

Aredhel surveyed the foyer of the elegant home. It was more modest than the Fëanorian’s hillside mansion in Valin, though of course located in one of the most expensive neighbourhoods in Beleria on the very edge of the city.

“Would you two like something to drink?” Nerdanel called from the kitchen. “I’ve got wine, scotch, brandy, vodka… I could make a cocktail if you like? And I think we have some eggnog, let me see… Oh, there’s these beers the twins left behind on their last visit, I know you like beer.”

As he removed his boots, Celegorm muttered under his breath, “I’m sure as hell not drinking that college kid swill.” He slanted Aredhel a knowing smile, then called in answer: “Scotch, please. Neat.”

“For me also,” said Aredhel. “Thank you.”

They relocated to the living room, where Celegorm sprawled on the leather couch in a failed attempt to appear at ease. Aredhel probably shouldn’t have found it endearing that when it came to the tactics he employed to cover up discomfort, he’d hardly changed in five years.

“You okay?” she asked, and perched on the armrest beside him.

“Fine,” he said.

“You know, you should be grateful that I can see right through your insecure bullshit,” she said lightly, “or I’d already have dumped you again. Stop being an ass to your mom.”

“Thank you, Aredhel,” said Nerdanel, entering through the archway with scotch glasses in hand. “You always were a good influence on him.”

Celegorm groaned, but apologised as he accepted the drink from his mother.

Nerdanel slid open one side of the credenza under the giant wall-mounted TV to reveal three packed shelves of DVDs. Aredhel could sense Celegorm biting back a remark on the antiquated technology, and when he managed to say nothing, she gave his bicep a congratulatory squeeze.

“Hmm.” Nerdanel scanned the collection a moment then sprang up from her crouch. “Aredhel, why don’t you pick something for us? I’ll make some popcorn.”

“I can make the popcorn,” Celegorm offered, and traipsed into the kitchen. It brought back memories of a tall, handsome, and enchantingly unromantic 21-year-old not-so-casually strolling off when he caught sight of the campus police rounding the corner of the old chemistry building, where they used to pregame Friday nights with a six pack of Losgar Light (now referred to as “college kid swill”).

Nerdanel exchanged a pleased smile with Aredhel, who plopped herself down cross-legged in front of the credenza. As soon at the popcorn maker began to whir, Nerdanel said, “You’re an angel for taking him back.”

Aredhel grunted with amusement. “Well, let’s just say I’ve learned that I could do far worse.”

Nerdanel’s comportment tensed. “I’m really sorry about all that.”

“Thanks,” Aredhel said as she scanned the movie titles. “Don’t worry too much about it though. I got custody of Lómion — and I wouldn’t give him up to change any of it.” She cast a smile Nerdanel’s way. “Celegorm’s good with him.”

Nerdanel’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I’m so happy to hear it. I’d love to meet him sometime. If you ever need a babysitter! I mean, I’m sure your mother can’t get enough of him, but I do miss having little ones around, and Tyelpë, oof, that kid has attitude and energy— well, you know of course…” She trailed off. “So, do you see anything you like?”

Aredhel released a relieved breath. Nerdanel sure could babble, but she had always been good at sensing when a person didn’t want to continue with a topic (which wasn’t to say that she didn’t often persist to spite them, particularly if the person was a son of hers).

“Hmm.” Aredhel’s eyes landed on a set of plain white DVDs with handwritten titles: Formenos Christmas (1998-2004); Taniquetil Ski Trips (1992-1996); Cáno Recitals; Nelyo and Cáno Equestrian; Tyelko Hockey &— Aredhel squinted to make out the next word —Figure Skating.

“What?” she said aloud, and instinctively reached for this last one. A photo had been slotted into the sleeve: A skinny, gap-toothed Celegorm, grinning in his tight sparkling red leotard with gold-fringed epaulettes, hands on his hips and one skate-clad foot daintily extended.

“Oh my god,” said Aredhel, and turned to Nerdanel with her mouth hanging open. “What is this?”

“Oh!” Nerdanel laughed. “That was Nutcracker on Ice!”

“Celegorm did figure skating?” Aredhel asked, her brows climbing higher up her forehead.

At that moment Celegorm reentered the room, one huge bowl of popcorn in each hand. “Okay ladies, you can stop talking about me now—” he froze, looking concernedly between Aredhel and his mother, whose expressions were quivering with contained merriment. “Wait, you were actually talking about me, weren’t you?”

Aredhel flashed the DVD cover. “How did I not know you were a ballet dancer?”

The tips of Celegorm’s ears immediately pinkened. “Not ballet. Skating. You knew I skated.” Popcorn leapt from one of the bowls as Celegorm set it forcefully on the coffee table and fell back onto the couch.

“I know you played hockey, I did not know you twirled around on ice in shiny body suits.”

“That’s enough. Put that away. What are we watching?”

“Oh, we are definitely watching this. And afterwards,” Aredhel pulled out another title, “Formenos Christmas?”

“That’s a wonderful idea!” Nerdanel clapped. “I haven’t seen those in ages.”

Celegorm groaned and sank deeper into the cushions.

#celegorm #aredhel #nerdanel #aredhel x celegorm #aretyel #holiday prompts #beleria au #modern au #my fic

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