Rings Of Power X Reader - Blog Posts

Requests are open!

Since holidays are approaching, I'd like to open requests! In about a week, I'm going to be starting my school holidays, and I'd like to take the time to relax and unwind from school before starting on holiday assignments. Writing does that for me, so requests!!!

Rules

What won't write: NSFW, gore, sensitive topics (you can DM to ask)

How to request

Send me an ask in my inbox, and I'll see to it!

I'll be writing for Silmarillion and Rings of Power elves, Valar and Maiar.

When requesting, please include:

Name of Silm/RoP elf (if it's characters like Elrond, Celebrimbor etc, specify if you want Silm or RoP version)

Nature of relationship: platonic or romantic?

If you want me to write an OC, give me all the details about your OC (race, gender, appearance, backstory, relationships with other characters etc, everything!)

Prompt! (very important, what is the premise of the story? angst, fluff? what exactly)

Note: I won't accept anonymous requests, because I may need to follow up with the user about their character. If you don't want your username to be shown when I post your request, you can tell me in your request. However, when you request, I need you to do so with a username!

I have the right to refuse requests! I'll be going overseas, and with assignments, I may not have time for everything. Especially if requests are inappropriate in nature, I'll have to turn them down and delete from my inbox.

Have fun sending requests, and give me time to process everything, okay?

Namarie! Happy holidays all!

Love, Lady of Lindon

The High King and High Queen of Lindon are trying to have some downtime (they've just woken up from a nice long sleep) and some elf walks in.

Gil-galad is understandably pissed off (but trying not to show it) while the High Queen (Itarille, in my story she's Elrond's sister) is trying not to smile or laugh.

A scene from a book I'm writing, High Queen of the Noldor.

@queenmeriadoc (because I think this would fit well with Lady Merry and High King Gil-galad), please let me know if this is in character for them, but I think in her case Celebrimbor is the one who walked in on them

Overzealous Herald (Elrond Peredhel, Rings of Power)

Author's note: Written with my OC Eleniel but can be a reader insert too

Summary: Elrond is an overzealous herald, and some day, he burns out. His darling wife nurses him back to health.

As the daughter of High King Gil-galad, Eleniel knew the pressure was on for her to maintain a graceful and elegant front as the Princess of Lindon. She knew the pressure of the court, to live up to everyone's expectations, but never in her life had she seen someone so...committed to it as Elrond was.

She knew that he always felt inferior, due to his half-elven heritage. Many a night, she had spent with him in their bed, reassuring him that he was more than enough as she pressed soft kisses to his shoulders. But it seemed that she had failed to actually convince him.

She saw the emotion he hid behind his perpetually lingering smile and his sweet words. Deep down, Eleniel knew one thing.

Elrond wasn't okay.

----

"Elrond," Eleniel spoke as she entered his study, shutting the door gently behind her. He was bent over his desk, scribbling madly, a fire burning in his eyes as his quill scratched the parchment. On the ground, she saw several broken quills, no doubt swept away in anger.

"What?" Gone was the shy, sweet herald she'd fallen in love with. In his place was a tone of vindictiveness, pent up anger. Eleniel was a little taken aback by his tone of voice, but she needed to get around whatever it was Elrond was experiencing this time.

"Elrond," she spoke softly, fiddling with a lock of her long hair. "Are you alright?"

He didn't answer her. Eleniel could hear her heart shattering, but she ignored the pain and continued to linger in his study. She moved closer to his desk, her steps feather-light, and reached out to pick up a particular document to read it.

Almost like lightning, his hand shot out to catch hers. Elrond snatched the document out of her hands and slammed it on the desk so hard the quills rattled in their inkwells.

"Leave it," he growled.

Eleniel's blue eyes widened at his words. What had happened. "Elrond, I-"

Her sweet herald snapped. "If you have nothing to say, leave!" He got out of his chair, grey eyes blazing and a stray strand of brown hair falling in front of his face. Elrond was glaring back at her, his eyes ablaze with a fury she'd never seen.

However, he saw Eleniel's eyes, blue like the boundless sea. They were wide open, perhaps with shock and a little fear. Instantly, Elrond's eyes softened, and he took a step towards his wife. "Melda, I...I apologise," he murmured, his eyes downcast. "I don't know what came over me, I..."

Tears pricked the corner of his eyes, and before he knew it, they started cascading like pearls broken from a chain down his cheeks. Eleniel's heart clenched and she pulled him into her embrace.

"Talk to me, Elrond. What's happening?"

"I...I push myself too hard..." he sniffled, burying his face in her shoulder. "It's my fault...all of it."

"I hear them talk, you know," he continued, "that I'm not worthy of you, not even worthy of being here, because I'm a peredhel. I'm trying to prove them wrong."

Eleniel pressed a kiss to his forehead, and pulled away just enough to look into his eyes. The beautiful grey eyes she so loved. "Elrond," she sighed, "you don't need to prove yourself to anyone. If those...idiots cannot see that you're more than your heritage, the fault lies with them and their poor judgement."

"You think so?"

"I know so, Elrond," Eleniel agreed firmly. "Your kindness and sincerity far surpass any flattery the courtiers utter. You're genuine, you love helping others no matter who they are...need I go on?"

She pulled him to her again. "Okay, I'm officially relieving you of your duties for the rest of the week. You're to take a break, away from your work."

Elrond looked up at her, unintentionally flashing those puppy eyes. "What about the High King?"

Eleniel laughed. "Whatever objections the High King has, he can run them by me, because my lovely herald needs a break!"

She tackled him to the ground, pressing kisses to any inch of him she could reach, namely his face. Elrond laughed as he felt a knot in his chest unravel.

He needed this. To heal, to rest. As he looked down at his wife, still kissing him fervently, he knew something.

Elrond had all he needed right here.

Tolkien Masterlist

Hey everyone! Here, I'll be putting links to all my writing and art so you can go see them. Also, for convenience.

I just want to say, to all of you who have been so supportive here on Tumblr, hantanyel ("thank you" in Quenya) from the bottom of my heart.

Also, requests are OPEN! For those who've sent in requests, I'm working on them, please give me some time.

Multi-chapter series

High Queen of the Noldor

Characters: Gil-galad, Elrond, Itarille (OC, High Queen of the Noldor and sister of Elrond)

masterlist (tba)

Rude Awakening (art)

Noldoriel of Eregion

Characters: Annatar (Sauron), Celebrimbor, Mirdania, (eventual) Glorfindel

masterlist

Characters

Ereinion Gil-galad

Across the Seas Stressful Night My Heart in your Hands (tba)

Elrond Peredhel (Rings of Power and Lord of the Rings)

I've Got You Overzealous Herald

Celebrimbor of Eregion

Not Strength, But Light (drawing)

Glorfindel

Work of Art

Requests Open!

Hey guys, it's Lady of Lindon. I find myself in need of inspiration to write, and I'd like to open my ask box to you guys! You can request anything for Silm and RoP elves. OC requests are also welcome, but provide details about your OC please! Have fun!

Feel free to ask via my ask box. It's open!

Note: I'll write mildly spicy fics but no NSFW stories

Across the Seas (Ereinion Gil-galad, Rings of Power)

Author's note: My OC, Itarille, is the younger sister of Elrond and Elros. Gil-galad has just asked to court her recently. Takes place way before the events of Rings of Power. Can be read as a reader insert, and either as a standalone or part of my upcoming Tolkien fic series. From @sotwk "Comfort Fic Writing Challenge".

-------

It was a nice day, Itarille thought to herself. She was sitting on the windowsill in her chambers, overlooking the sea. Her ears picked up the faint sound of the ocean waves crashing against the shores. Her grey eyes, so like those of her older brothers, drifted back down to the book in her lap.

Adûnaic, the language was called. From the land of Númenor, Elros' kingdom. She was reading a book about the island kingdom's history with the sea.

“From the dawn of Númenor, our fate has been intertwined with the sea. It guides, it judges, it endures. The sea is always right.”

It was a longstanding belief of the people. Itarille glanced out of the window once more, her eyes fixed on the blue waves of the ocean. It seemed calm, serene, steadfast. Just like how Númenor should be. How the Eldar should be. How she should be, considering that she would soon marry the High King and become Queen of Lindon.

She flipped the page, deciding to move on from the poetic passage. On the next page, there was a portrait. A man, regal, with high cheekbones, gazed back at her with eyes so familiar. His raven hair was mixed with streaks of white, and age was so visibly shown on his face.

Elros Tar-Minyatur, the description below the portrait read. Founding King of Númenor. Itarille hadn't gazed upon a painting or portrait of her brother in so long. It had been too long since his passing, but for her, it felt like yesterday.

The day Itarille had received word of Elros' passing, it was as if the floor had collapsed from beneath her feet. When she'd heard it, Itarille was at dinner with the High King. The news was delivered to him by a messenger, then him to her. When the last word had left his lips, Itarille stood up abruptly and fled. She remembered the look in Gil-galad's blue eyes. Those blue eyes, blue like the sea.

She and Elrond grieved. He did his best not to show it, maintaining the stern facade of the High King's Herald, but Itarille was different. She had locked herself away in her chambers, sitting on this very windowsill, gazing out at the sea which Elros had sailed away on the day he decided to be counted amongst Men.

She had known that day would come, but it didn't hurt any less.

A knock on the door brought Itarille out of her reverie. Wiping the tears from her face hastily, Itarille spoke softly, "Come in."

The door opened gently, and in stepped Gil-galad. As usual, he was the picture of elegance and serenity, clothed in robes of a deep blue, a departure from his usual gold. His gold crown of leaves was nowhere to be seen, and his deep brown hair tumbled down his back in waves.

"My lady," Gil-galad spoke in that velvety voice of his, bringing Itarille's hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to her fingers, "how I've longed to see you so. This day has been dreadful without your presence at my side."

Itarille didn't respond, her mind still whirling with the memories from Elros, the memories that reading that book had stirred up. Gil-galad noticed her silence, the lingering tears in her grey eyes. He was about to ask if everything was alright, when he saw the Adûnaic book on her lap and he understood.

"You were thinking about him, weren't you?" Gil-galad asked quietly. Itarille gave no verbal answer, only the nod of her head. After a moment of silence, Itarille finally spoke. "O-oh, Ereinion," she sniffled, a fresh wave of tears falling down her face. "I miss Elros."

"My love." Gil-galad pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead. For a moment, they both said nothing, Itarille's sobs speaking for her. She pressed her face into the crook of his neck, her tears staining the fabric of his robes.

"Why does it hurt so much?" She looked up at him, her eyes glimmering with tears.

"You loved Elros deeply. He was your brother, and like Elrond, your protector. Your closest confidante. It's natural to feel this way about him." Gil-galad exhaled. "It's alright to grieve, melda."

"But," he looked down at Itarille, wiping a tear from her cheek, "Elros wouldn't want you to cry for him. He loved you deeply and would wish for you to be happy. He'd want you to live a happy and long life. So, please, do not weep, my love. Live, for Elros, for Elrond. For me."

Outside, the flowers bloomed. The birds chirped. In the distance, the waves lapped against the shores. Somewhere up there, Itarille sensed that Elros was watching. The grief was still fresh, it would always be, but for now, in this moment, Itarille felt at peace. Gil-galad's arms tightened around her, the High King murmuring words of reassurance and love in Quenya, the language she adored.

Everything would be alright.

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’ve Got You (Elrond Peredhel, Rings of Power) – S1 Ep7

Author’s note: Technically Elrond x OC, but could be a reader insert if you block out the OC’s name 😉; she’s the daughter of Gil-galad and Princess of Lindon, Eleniel, she had gone to Eregion with Elrond earlier in the season; I write better with named characters (so I write with OCs); italic phases with “S.” denote the use of Sindarin, while “Q.” denotes the use of Quenya

Eleniel paced the floor of Celebrimbor’s forges anxiously as she waited for her husband to return. It had been days since Elrond left for Khazad-dûm, hoping to pay a visit to his friend, the Dwarven prince Durin. At least, that’s what Elrond told her.

Eleniel couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something would go wrong. Every second spent delving deeper into the recesses of her mind was another moment spent pacing in the forges. Someone cleared his throat behind her, snapping her out of her reverie.

“You’re going to wear a hole in my floor, ingaranel nin (S. my princess),” Celebrimbor mused, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He wiped his brow before running a hand through his brown curls. “It’s Elrond, isn’t it? You worry for him.”

“Yes, Lord Celebrimbor,” Eleniel admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “I know he’s just visiting Durin, but I can’t shake this feeling that I have. It’s not a good one.” Her blue eyes filled with tears, but she bit her lip, refusing to let them fall. The smith sighed before moving to stand by her side, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I know you care for him, but all this worry…it’s not good for you. Look, you haven’t stopped pacing. I’m sure the young Peredhel wouldn’t want you to worry about him like this.”

“Well, he’s a hypocrite then, isn’t he?” Eleniel laughed, her voice hollow. “He wishes I do not concern myself about him, yet he keeps giving me reasons to worry.” Even till now, this was Elrond’s habit, and Eleniel only let him get away with it because of the adorable expression he’d flash at her every time she was about to admonish him.

“I suggest you take a break from pacing. Perhaps the view of Ost-in-Edhil from my study would do you well?” Celebrimbor suggested, already walking away and gesturing for Eleniel to follow. She did, the hem of her pale blue gown flowing behind her and sweeping the ground like leaves.

Celebrimbor was right, Eleniel told herself. At this time of day, Ost-in-Edhil was bustling with activity. The light of the setting sun bathed everything before her in hues of pink and gold. Truly, the capital city of Eregion was splendid.  Eleniel’s hands gripped the cool railing of the balcony, her eyes following the elves milling about below. Two elven children looked up at her, waving and flashing excited smiles, and she waved back, gracing them with a smile of her own.

Just then, a flicker of activity just not too far away from where the children had stood caught her eye. A figure approached the gates of Ost-in-Edhil, cloaked in what was supposed to be white, but his clothes were matted with dirt. Eleniel’s heart caught in her throat as she gazed at the figure.

Elrond was back.

Without a second thought, Eleniel turned and ran out of Celebrimbor’s study and down the stairs until she had reached the ground floor. She pushed open the heavy wooden doors to the forge tower, not caring as they slammed behind her. Running as fast as her feet would take her, she finally made it to the gates. The guards, recognising her, let her pass.

Eleniel threw her arms around Elrond, burying her face in the crook of his neck. “You’re home, meldanya (Q. my beloved), you’re home,” she murmured, her voice low enough only for his ears. When she pulled apart to gaze into those grey eyes she loved so much, she found them full of tears. “Elrond?” Eleniel asked, confused. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m such a failure, ingaranel nin,” Elrond sniffled, hastily wiping his eyes, but more tears came. “I was so close! We could’ve gotten the mithril needed to save elvenkind, but…but I…”

“It’s okay, Elrond,” Eleniel said soothingly. Her hand cupped his face, her thumb wiping soot from his cheeks. She knew what had happened. Her sunshine had tried his best, but the dwarven king, Prince Durin’s father, had forbade any further mining for mithril. She’d suspected that the dwarven king would respond as such, but never did she expect that he would throw her beloved out like that.

Elrond sobbed silently. Eleniel grabbed his shoulders gently and steered them away from the gates. “Hush, Elrond, you did your best. No one will blame you, you tried,” Eleniel said softly, pulling her husband down to her height to kiss his forehead.

“I failed, Eleniel,” Elrond said, his voice devoid of any emotion. “Now the elves will fade, all because of me.” He fished something out of his pocket, a small ore that gleamed in the light of the setting sun. “Durin gave me this, a small mithril ore. Such a small piece for all elvenkind, how can it even help?”

“It helps more than you know, Elrond,” Eleniel smiled at him, the kind of smile Elrond loved to see. “Celebrimbor will find a way, I’m sure of it. He’s only the best smith in all Middle-earth. How could he not?”

“The High King entrusted me with this,” Elrond sniffled once more, tears streaming silently down his face. “I failed him. How can I face him?”

“Listen to me, husband.” Eleniel’s voice was firm. Her fingers wiped the tears from his face, before brushing one of his brown curls behind his pointed ear. “You’ve done your best, and I’ll see to it that my father knows so. No one can blame you for King Durin’s response.” She hugged Elrond tight, and he returned her embrace, pressing a kiss into her fragrant hair. “Truly?” Elrond pulled away just enough to look into Eleniel’s blue eyes.

She nodded. “I’ve got you, Elrond. I’ve got you.”