"It Is Not Strength That Overcomes Darkness, But Light." - Lord Celebrimbor

Threads of Fate Chapters 25 and 26

Find Chapters 23 and 24 HERE

Notes: These are the final two chapters for this ending! The Celebrimbor girlies on Ao3 requested that I write an alternate ending where reader chooses Celebrimbor instead of Gil-galad. I plan to release the alternate ending as one looooong chapter, that way you can choose your own adventure this fic!

Chapter 25: The Morning After

The soft light of morning streamed through the curtains, casting gentle patterns on the walls of your chambers. You stirred, gradually becoming aware of the world around you. The warmth of the blankets enveloped you, providing a comforting cocoon that made it difficult to leave the realm of dreams.

As you opened your eyes fully, your gaze landed on Gil-galad, who was seated at your desk, sipping tea. He looked relaxed yet regal, his long hair falling carelessly over his shoulders. The sight of him brought back a rush of memories from the night before, and your heart raced at the thought.

You and Gil-galad exchanged shy glances, the air charged with unspoken words and lingering emotions. A faint blush crept across your cheeks as you recalled the vows you had exchanged and the passion that had ignited between you.

“Good morning,” he said softly, his voice warm and inviting, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Good morning,” you replied, your voice still thick with sleep. You sat up slowly, the blankets slipping down to your waist, and you couldn’t help but notice how his gaze lingered on you.

He smiled, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “I hope you don’t mind. I made myself at home.” He gestured to the steaming cup in his hand. “I thought it best to let you rest.”

You chuckled lightly, your nerves easing a bit. “I appreciate it. It’s nice to wake up to a familiar face.”

With a gentle smile, he stood and approached the bed, placing the cup on the bedside table. “Eleanior came looking for you while you were sleeping,” he said. “She wanted to know if you’d meet her at the forge. She was quite nervous about spending the day with Celebrimbor.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of Celebrimbor, but to your surprise, you felt none of the intense emotions that had once overwhelmed you. Instead, there was a calmness, a clarity that hadn’t been there before.

“The forge?” you echoed, gathering your thoughts. “Oh right, yes. Celebrimbor had invited her to see it today.” You groaned loudly at the thought of telling Celebrimbor what had happened.

You and Gil-galad sat in silence for a moment before he spoke again. “I know you’re nervous about speaking to Lord Celebrimbor regarding everything that has transpired since dinner last night. Would you like me to join you?”

You shook your head. “No, I think it’s best if I see him alone.”

Gil-galad gave your hand a supportive squeeze and smiled. “With any luck, his connection to you will have begun to diminish. He’s an honorable man; I’m sure he will take the news in stride.”

You took a steadying breath as you approached the forge, the sounds of hammering and the warm glow of the fire growing stronger with each step. Anticipation bubbled within you, mingling with the remnants of nerves that lingered from the morning.

As you entered the forge, the heat washed over you, enveloping you in its embrace. Before you could gather your thoughts, Eleanior spotted you from across the room. Her face lit up with excitement as she dashed toward you, her hair flowing behind her like a golden banner.

“You made it!” she exclaimed, nearly bouncing on her toes. “The forge is incredible! I’ve learned so much already.”

You couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. “I’m glad to hear that! What have you been learning?”

Eleanior’s eyes sparkled as she began to recount her experiences. “The way Celebrimbor works is fascinating! He moves with such purpose and skill. I had no idea that crafting could be so… captivating.” She glanced over her shoulder at Celebrimbor, a dreamy expression crossing her face. “And he looks so attractive when he’s focused like this.”

You let out a childlike giggle at her remark. “You silly, lovesick elf!” you teased.

“Could you aid me with a remedy? Do you have something in the healer's pantry for love-sickness?” she snickered.

You both stood there giggling for a moment when you suddenly realized that the jealousy you had felt toward Eleanior’s attraction to Celebrimbor was gone.

“He showed me how to shape metal today, and I think I might have a knack for it!” Eleanior exclaimed, her hands animatedly mimicking the motions she had learned. “You have to see what he’s creating. It’s breathtaking!”

Before you could respond, Celebrimbor turned, catching sight of you both. His expression shifted to one of warmth, and he set down his tools, wiping his hands on a cloth before approaching.

As you engaged in conversation with Eleanior and Celebrimbor, you couldn’t help but notice a flicker of something in his gaze—a subtle confusion that danced beneath his calm exterior. When he looked at you, there was an intensity that seemed muted, as if the storm of emotions he had once felt had settled into a gentle breeze.

You caught him glancing at you from the corner of his eye, his brow furrowing slightly, as if he were trying to reconcile the absence of the overwhelming pull that had once drawn him to you. In those fleeting moments, you sensed a hidden struggle within him, a questioning of why the connection felt different now.

When the conversation lulled, you cleared your throat and spoke. “Celebrimbor,” you began, your voice steady but soft, “could I speak with you for a few moments… privately?”

Eleanior looked between the two of you, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. “I’ll head back to the forge to continue my project,” she said, a bright smile on her face. “Don’t take too long! There’s more I want to show you!”

His expression shifted slightly, concern evident in his eyes. He gestured toward a quieter corner of the forge, where the sounds of hammering faded into the background.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of your words pressing against your chest. “Celebrimbor, I wanted to talk about last night,” you began, your voice slightly trembling.

He nodded, his expression attentive, encouraging you to continue. “After our dinner, Gil-galad and I talked.” You paused, trying to choose your words carefully. “I told him everything that has happened between you and me these last few months.”

“Everything?” Celebrimbor questioned.

“Yes, everything. Don’t worry, he’s not angry. But I…” Your voice trailed off.

“You what?” he asked, stepping closer to you.

“I couldn’t stand the confusion and extreme emotions anymore. I needed quiet. I needed to be in control of my feelings again. Miroden discovered that soulmates don’t have to choose each other for the yearning to subside.” You smiled weakly at him.

“I don’t understand what you’re saying,” he whispered.

You reached out and took both of his hands in yours. “Do you feel that?”

Celebrimbor's eyes widened at the realization. “I don’t… I don’t feel anything,” he stammered, swallowing hard.

“Exactly. We are both free. Free from the yearning. Free to make our own choices. Celebrimbor, I can’t even begin to express how grateful I am to you. You’ve made my time in Eregion so special.”

“But how? Where did our connection go?” he asked, bewildered.

“Miroden's research revealed that if one or both of the pair marries another, the connection will break. The pain, the yearning—all of it will diminish. A mercy given to us by Eru. Last night, Gil-galad and I became husband and wife.” You braced yourself for Celebrimbor's reaction, unsure of how he would respond.

To your surprise, he began to chuckle.

“Why is that funny?” you asked incredulously.

He let out a huge sigh of relief and smiled. “Our connection, while it persisted, was nothing short of bliss. My attraction to you was like sun on black cloth. I was aflame with desire in your presence, consumed by it. It was wonderful, and I would have been very happy to have you all to myself forever… but the thought of taking you from the High King filled me with dread.” He admitted. “I knew our union would create a rift between Lindon and Eregion.”

You smirked. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

Celebrimbor smiled. “Well, all I could do was think about it—about you, about us. But I am happy for you, truly.”

“Thank you for everything,” you said as you released Celebrimbor's hands and took a step back.

Eleanior approached, her expression animated. “Excuse me, sorry to interrupt!” she said, her voice bright but apologetic. “Could you help me with something, Lord Celebrimbor? Which tool would you suggest I use to sharpen this edge?” She held out a small metal spear she had been crafting.

“It’s quite alright, Eleanior, you’re not interrupting. We've finished.” You looked down at her spear and smiled. “Wow, have you crafted this yourself?” You were astonished by her talent.

Eleanior blushed at your praise. “Lord Celebrimbor helped,” she said shyly.

“Not that much! You have a real knack for metalwork,” Celebrimbor assured her.

You glanced between Celebrimbor and Eleanior, sensing a budding admiration between them.

“Well, I must go and find Gil-galad. We need to plan for our journey back to Lindon.”

“Leaving so soon?” Celebrimbor asked. “Surely you can stay a bit longer, given the circumstances.”

“Thank you for your hospitality, Celebrimbor, but we have a wedding to plan.” You tried to convey to him not to reveal too much in front of Eleanior. “We are not yet wed.” You punctuated each word with a sharp tone.

“Ah! Right!… The wedding… your wedding… the royal wedding… of course! You're not married yet.” Celebrimbor spoke clumsily, trying to mask the mistake he'd made.

“Are you okay? Perhaps you are in need of a break; you've been working hard since the early hours,” Eleanior asked with concern.

Celebrimbor gave a nervous laugh. “Yes… perhaps you're right, Eleanior. I could use a break.”

“I could accompany you to the tavern for lunch if you'd like?” Eleanior said, trembling slightly.

Celebrimbor gave her a warm smile. “I’d like that very much. Let me grab my jacket, and we can walk down there together.”

As soon as Celebrimbor turned his back, Eleanior let out a silent scream of joy and grabbed your arms. “Is this really happening?!” She was shaking with excitement.

You pulled Eleanior into a tight hug and whispered into her ear, “If he sees even a fraction of what I see in you, he’ll be head over heels by nightfall.”

“Thank you!” she replied softly, pulling back to meet your gaze. “Now go and find Gil-galad! The poor man has been sulking ever since you left Lindon.”

You both stood there giggling again, and the joy that washed over you was almost overwhelming. Your eyes began to well up.

“Oh, are you crying? What’s the matter?” Eleanior asked, concern etched on her face.

You smiled brightly. “Nothing is wrong. These are tears of immense, overwhelming joy.” You pulled Eleanior into another hug and whispered, “I’ll see you later. I can’t wait to hear about your lunch with Celebrimbor.”

CHARLES PETER KEEP EDWARDS

[x]

Stressful Night (Ereinion Gil-galad, Rings of Power)

Author’s note: Itarille Peredhel is Gil-galad’s queen, and she’s Elrond’s sister. In this story, she’s bothered by a lot more work than usual, a much heavier workload. Gil is the supportive and affectionate husband behind closed doors, a comfort for her. (“Q.”  is meant to denote the use of Quenya, while “S.” denotes the use of Sindarin)

TW: Blood (from a paper cut wound)

Sighing internally, Itarille picked up her quill for the umpteenth time that day and signed the proffered document with a flourish. “Send it to King Oropher,” she spoke, exhaustion evident in her voice. “Make it hasty, or I’ll be receiving a host of complaints from the Greenwood again.”

“Yes, High Queen,” the messenger nodded before dashing out of the room, his feet barely making any sound. For that, at least, Itarille was thankul. She turned her attention to the next document, smiling as she read the elegant script. At least this one was from Elrond, about some matters he’d noticed while going about his duties as Herald of Lindon. She set it aside, deciding that it would be better to allow the High King to read about it as well before passing judgement.

Ah. The High King. Itarille had been so busy that she hadn’t been able to spend time with her husband the entire day, save for breakfast. He had headed out to the Grey Havens to speak with Círdan the Shipwright, and was absent from the palace for most of the day. He’d only recently returned, and from what his assistant, Estedir, had told her, the High King was thoroughly wiped out. She had spent her day taking up his duties at the palace, in addition to her own.

Smiling wryly, Itarille reached for another document. As she reached out to grab it, a sharp pain shot up the tip of her finger. Hissing, Itarille pulled her hand away, only to find a bleeding paper cut. Biting her lip to prevent herself from crying out in frustration, Itarille decided to look for the first aid kit. Alas, she’d forgotten to bring it back to her study after using it a few weeks ago.

She had had enough. With the mounting pile of documents on her desk, and the concern that Oropher of the Greenwood would have another complaint about her reply to him, Itarille had been driven mad. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions, unsure of what exactly she was feeling at the moment. She stood up from her chair and told the guard standing outside the door that she would be leaving the night. With a respectful murmur of “High Queen” from the guard, Itarille strode briskly down the hallway, the hem of her gown trailing behind her.

It didn’t take long for her to reach the quarters she shared with her beloved High King. She stepped inside, cautious of remaining silent in case he was asleep. She had assumed he was asleep, and the sight of him standing by the window, staring at the starry sky above surprised her.

“Melda (Q. beloved),” Ereinion’s smooth voice called out. He walked towards her, intending to give her a kiss. His attention, however, was drawn to the drop of blood falling from the tip of her finger and dripping against the marble floors. It was soft, but he heard the sound as the drop made contact with the marble. “What happened?”

“Paper cut,” Itarille huffed. “I need a bath, can we discuss this later?” Ereinion was taken aback by the intensity in her voice. She shot him a brief glare before heading to her closet to grab a robe and walking to the adjacent chamber to take a bath.

When Itarille emerged, she was clothed in a white nightgown. In Ereinion’s opinion, a vision, like Varda herself. He rose from their shared bed, reaching out towards her to grasp her hand. “You’ve dealt with the wound, I see,” he spoke glancing briefly at the bandage on her finger.”

“I have,” Itarille said. “Can we go to bed now? I’m exhausted. It’s been such a long day.”

Ereinion was about to nod, when he saw the look in her eyes. It was one he hated seeing, the look of utter defeat. “What happened today, my starlight?” He murmured, gently easing her into bed and pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

“I prefer not to talk about it.” Itarille sniffed. Ereinion almost laughed out loud internally; he knew his wife was a hypocrite when it came to matters like this. Sooner or later, everything would spill forth from her perfect lips.

“You know, Oropher sent another message today. He wanted me to sign it and send it back to the Greenwood the same day it arrived,” she said. “And your courtiers, they just won’t get off my back. Insufferable, the lot of them!”

Ereinion allowed himself a small chuckle. “Ah, but you’ve been handling it with such grace, my darling. Isn’t that right?”

“That’s an understatement,” she replied huffily. “There, I’ve told you everything. Can we go to bed now?”

The High King smiled briefly, lying back in bed and opening his arms to her. Itarille snuggled up to him, her head on his chest. She heard the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as she traced her fingers along his arm. “Yes, we can, my love,” Ereinion leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. “You’ve done so much for me today, helping to take over my palace duties. I cannot thank you enough.”

Itarille’s patience was almost worn out. “Thank me by sealing your lips shut and letting me get some sleep. Shh!” The High King smirked. “You want to shut me up? Why don’t you do it yourself?”

There was a daring gleam in his eyes. Itarille knew exactly what he wanted, but her need for sleep was more pressing. She picked up a pillow and threw it at his face. “Goodnight, High King. Go to bed.” The last thing she recalled hearing before drifting into slumber was the soft laughter of Ereinion.

Her silly High King.

Author's note: Wow, churning out two fics in one day! I'm pleasantly surprised, but Elrond and Gil-galad are my comfort elves.

i'm glad he's alive

Thinking about how VOROHIL FOUND A LADY VOROHIL TO HANG OUT WITH

Love thrives in Middle Earth despite it all

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

I think Glorfindel would act cool and confident around his crush, making it known he’s into you by looking for reasons to hang around/talk to you. He’ll just let those encounters slide into a relationship overtime, with him having already taken you out several times before he finally puts the label “date” in front of it. After all, he sees no reason to rush. He knows you’ll end up together eventually so he has no problem just coasting into it. 💛

Celebrimbor 😂

High King Gil-Galad: I have noticed something as of late, and I need to ask you something.

High Queen Merry: Yes, dear?

High king Gil-Galad: Why are you only wearing black?

High Queen Merry: It’s a thing we did in the world I am from, to wear black clothing while we are in mourning.

High King Gil-Galad: I should do the same.

High Queen Merry: You don’t have to.

High King Gil-Galad: I have too, I need to. I miss him, I mourn him, I loved him, I -

High Queen Merry: I know sweetheart, I know.

Alternatively,

Lord Celebrimbor: I AM NOT DEAD.

High Queen Merry: Sometimes I can still hear his voice.

work of art

HES SO FUCKING PRETTY LITERALLY JUST LOOK AT HIM

(screams) Elrond!

ELROND appreciation 01/∞ S2E8 "Shadow and Flame"

oh mirdania

𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐀 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐘 𝐀𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐀

season two the rings of power. 2.07.