#rings of power fic

[the-classy-villainess]

Deceiver

Dark!Halbrand (Sauron) x Elf!reader

Summary: The daughter of Gil-galad is seduced.

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: Dub-con/coercion + non-con. Toxic relationship. Possessiveness. Allusions to abduction. Mind & dream manipulation/control. Smut – unprotected p in v. Loss of virginity for both parties (trying to stay true to elf!reader, so sex = marriage). Minors DNI! 18+

Requested by Anon: “reader is the daughter of Gil Galad and Sauron seduces her with his beautiful words, but then Galadriel discovers Halbrand’s true identity and he becomes all dark, claiming reader and taking her with him to Mordor. Smut.”

I feel like I need to stress this because I’ve never posted smut before (especially for such a dark character). Please mind the warnings. If any of the things listed trigger you, don’t read any further. Halbrand is manipulative in this fic, to the point where the ‘reader’ cannot wholly differentiate their own thoughts from his. The sex is not consensual.

When he’d come to your chambers that afternoon you’d felt something had changed. There was a strange urgency in him, an urgency that saw him mutter only a quick greeting before his lips were on yours.

You welcomed his kisses, melted into them even, but his hands had never wandered so freely, and you couldn’t help but wonder just what had gotten into him when his fingers slowly rucked up your skirts and stroked the bare skin of your thigh.

“Halbrand? We can’t,” you gasped between kisses. “Not without my father’s blessing.”

He groaned into your mouth and clutched you that much tighter.

Even if you weren’t the High King’s only heir, it was unlikely that your father would bless the union of a man and elleth; not when such a union would bring only death and despair. Halbrand knew this as well as you did – it had frustrated him like nothing else.

“I care little for his blessing,” he panted, drawing away at long last to press his forehead against yours. “Ours is a fate that cannot be denied by any man, elf, or dwarf. Why else would we have been brought together if not for the work of some higher power – if not for the will of Ilúvatar himself?”

It was a lovely notion, a romantic one, that you had been brought together for a purpose – some greater fate like Beren and Lúthien or Idril and Tuor. You doubted either of you would have so great a part to play in the history of Middle Earth as they had, but your love could be just as special, just as boundless, if you allowed it to be.

“Let me have you,” he continued. “All of you, and no one will ever be able to refute our love – not even your father.”

“You do not know what you are asking of me,” you insisted, drawing back to meet his eye. “There are traditions – the feast, the rings, the blessings…”

“All of which can be forgone—”

“Only in times of war.”

He took your hands into his own and gazed at you imploringly. “Do you love me?”

You sighed. It was a question he asked more frequently now, as if he didn’t truly believe it when you told him as much, and it made your heart ache to think he doubted your devotion. You would do anything to prove it to him.

“I do. Of course I do. How could I not?”

He smiled, trailing his knuckles gently down your cheek.

“Then you know as well as I do, that you will never love another. Nor will I, for that matter.”

You will never love another. Only him. This crafty mortal man who had swept into Eregion with naught but the bloodied rags on his back and a charming smile on his face. He’d looked more a vagrant than a King the first time you’d seen him, but his quick tongue and quicker mind hinted at a greater knowledge gathered through life and lore, and you’d been helpless to resist him.

His arms had been safe, his lips had been soft, and his words had given you hope, the likes of which you hadn’t felt for centuries.

Those very same arms encircled your waist and drew you back into his embrace. Your head lolled forward onto his shoulder, and he pressed a lingering kiss to your temple.

“I would give you the world if you asked it of me. I’d gather you the greatest of armies, build you the tallest of towers. I’d fashion you the finest of rings, one fit for a Queen…” he trailed off softly, teasingly, and it brought a small smile to your face. “If only you would have me.”

You looked up into his eyes and splayed your hands over his chest, desperate to feel the steady thump of the heart beneath. One day it would beat no more, and neither would your own, for you would not remain in Middle Earth without him. You didn’t want towers, or armies, or rings. You wanted him, for however long you could have him, be it days or decades. He was right.

I will never love another, you agreed. What did old traditions matter?

“All right.”

He exhaled a slow, shaky breath that you felt reverberate in your palms, and his eyes, those lovely, mischievous eyes sparkled beneath his raised brow.

“Yes?”

“Yes,” you laughed.

The word had barely left you lips before he caught you in a kiss, fiery and consuming and desperate in a way his kisses had never before been. You’d always known him to be strong, but his hold on you – the arm wound around your waist and the palm cupping the back of your neck – felt unbreakable in that moment. As if he’d never let you go.

“You’ve no idea what this means to me,” he murmured against your lips. “What this will mean for us – together, you and I, King and Queen, we will rule Lindon and the Southlands. We will unite all of Middle Earth under one banner.”

Your brow furrowed at his words, at how out of place they sounded, as if they were part of another conversation altogether. Something is wrong, you thought.

Tell him you love him, more than anything.

“I love you, Halbrand. More than anything.”  

He shot you a slow smile, and his hold on you tightened. “I know you do, dove. I know you do.”

----------

No, you thought dazedly, it had not happened that way.

You loved him, you wanted him; you still do, you always will, a voice whispered back. There was something alluring in that voice, something persuasive, that made you think that perhaps it was right.

Then your surroundings shifted; day faded to night, and your back pressed firmly into the mattress of your old bed as he hovered over you, bare from the waist up.

His lips were on your neck, his hand buried inside your underthings – buried inside you. A sudden pleasure flooded your mind, an unnatural desire that barely felt like your own. You begged him to touch you, remember? You begged. You trembled with each pump of his fingers until your back arched, your walls fluttered, and you fell apart in his hold.

He withdrew wordlessly, and through the haze of pleasure you heard the rattle of his belt buckle and the rustle of fabric. Would you accept this man into your body? He seemed to think so, but you couldn’t remember for the life of you how this played out, not when such heavy desire clouded your mind.

“Halbrand…” Wait, you wanted to tell him, but your lips were strangely unresponsive.

And then he was on you again; peeling your ruined underclothes down your legs. His hands, warm and gentle, rubbed soothing circles into your knees, and you held your breath as he pried them apart and settled on the mattress between them. Your thighs twitched, as if you’d wanted to close them – had I? – but he held them firmly, with only a quick squeeze of warning to dissuade you.

His thumbs caught the hem of your shift and dragged it up past your hips. He stared at your bared flesh with a look that promised ruin, a look that made you feel young and naïve for the first time in centuries. Heat rushed to your cheeks as he met your gaze and pressed a gentle kiss to your folds. Then his hands drifted higher, gliding along your waist and rucking your shift up beneath your breasts.  

“Exquisite,” he murmured against your skin, trailing kisses along your navel, over your ribs, between your breasts.

He settled atop you, his length, hot and hard and leaking, bobbed against your navel as he hiked your thigh over his hip. It was the blunt press of him against your folds that cleared the haze from your mind, and uncertainty bloomed full force in its stead. Calm yourself. You want this. You’ve always wanted this.

Yes, you thought. All your life you’d waited for one to call your own. That you had gone so long without finding your match had raised concerns – often such things were a bad omen for one’s future prospects. And here you were, body bare and open to a man you father hadn’t even met yet.

You want this.

I want this.

You love him.

I love him, you agreed.

He caught your lips in an all-consuming kiss, a distracting kiss, and swiped his length along your folds, once, twice, before finally easing it inside you. Your body was tense, walls tight against his intrusion, and you whimpered into his mouth, palms pressing against his abdomen instinctively. The illusion of calm shattered.

“Shhh…” he soothed, prying your hands away and interlacing your fingers. “I have you.”

For reasons you couldn’t explain, his words didn’t bring the comfort they usually would, and you felt a tear spill over your cheek as he pinned your hands above your head and buried his face in the crook of your neck.

“And now I’ll always have you,” he panted, breath hot and moist on your skin, as he worked you open with slow thrusts. The initial sting quickly faded and, as if sensing this, his thrusts grew faster, harder, hungrier.

You didn’t know how long you’d lain there, eyes screwed shut, as he sucked bruises into your skin and ravaged your insides, but you felt a strange sense of relief when at last he shuddered and collapsed against you.

The ache between your legs made your stomach churn. If it were the will of Ilúvatar then why did it feel so wrong?

----------

You woke with a start. Your eyes took a moment to adjust to the candlelight, and when they did, dread pooled in your stomach. It had been difficult to count the days – here in this sunless land, where the air smelled of ash and sounds were limited to those of labour and the snarling, spitting language uttered by those creatures.

You’d only seen the beasts once before, when he’d draped you in black and paraded you through camp with an arm curled possessively around your waist – a silent warning. The rest of your time had been spent inside the large grey tent that was erected in the middle of camp while works continued on a more permanent lodging…something tall and black that loomed in the distance.

How long had he kept you here? How long had you endured these invasive attacks on your mind? How long until you could no longer tell fact from falsehood while he moulded your memories into something more palatable?

“Pleasant dreams?”

Halbrand lay in bed beside you, his lean body as bare as your own, and you hated that you still thought him beautiful. The thin sheen of sweat on his skin glistened in the candlelight, a sign of his exertion, and a reminder that even in sleep you would not be free of him.

Not Halbrand, you told yourself, but a different beast altogether.

He turned onto his side, head propped on his palm – suffocatingly close – and planted a soft kiss on your lips. His free hand traced lazy circles into the skin of your navel, the gold of his wedding band glittering mockingly as you felt the first stirrings of desire. Your modesty had been long forgotten in this place; all that remained was shame.

“You are not wrong for finding pleasure in this,” he murmured, as if knowing the direction your thoughts had taken. “How could you not, when we fit so perfectly together?”

“Why?” you rasped, throat tight, and eyes glassy. “Why do you still do this?”

His jaw twitched almost imperceptibly. You asked him this every time, and every time he rebuffed you. Not this time it seemed.

“Long have I walked these shores and never have I seen so fair a sight as your body laid bare before me.” He gave your hip an appreciative squeeze. “I wanted you in ways I’d wanted no other; I still do, I always will,” he added as an afterthought, and it echoed in your ears.

You loved him, you wanted him; you still do, you always will. Another falsehood, then.

“You blame yourself – don’t,” he urged with a consoling kiss to your temple. “You can kick and claw and scream yourself hoarse, and I will continue to have you. Such is the strength of my will...such is my right as your husband.”

He took a strange kind of pleasure in reminding you of his place in your life – reminding you that you would never be free of him. He would never let you go. 

“Why me?”

He grasped your chin between his thumb and forefinger and turned your head to face him. His eyes, the very same you’d lost yourself in countless times, were fervid and near unrecognisable as he gazed down at you.

“Because I am shadow,” he whispered. “And you are light, and when I’m inside you I feel a power unlike any other.”

“Oh, come now, none of that,” he chided lightly, swiping your tears away with his thumb. “Doesn’t it please you to know I’d never known such rapture before you? It would’ve been easy enough – those mortal whores throw themselves at anything with enough coin,” he scoffed.

“But you, an elleth…a beloved Firstborn, daughter of Gil-galad, Princess of the Noldor,” he rattled off with satisfaction and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your neck. “Your kind have only ever scorned me, hunted me. I knew you’d do the same if you ever glimpsed my true visage.”

“So I thought to come to you as Annatar. A form befitting your beauty and station,” he huffed a breathy laugh. “But you surprised me. You were so eager for this mortal man, you let him leave his marks on your skin, his seed in your womb.” You shuddered as he pressed a hand to your abdomen. He trailed his palm lower and dipped his fingers between your folds, admiring the mess he’d left there.

“And you’d let me do it all over again, wouldn’t you?” he mused, eyes darkening.

“No…” you gasped, squirming as he slipped a finger inside you.

“You would, wouldn’t you? Because you know as well as I do that despite it all, you will always love me. You will always love your husband – say it.”

It was a confronting thought, a painful thought, that in the eyes of the Eldar you were wed to this beast, bound to him for eternity. Your souls were one. Worse still was that he wasn’t entirely wrong. You wanted to hate him, wished it with your whole being, but you didn’t know how to.

“Halbrand, please!”

“Say it,” he whispered against the shell of your ear, with just enough sway to bend your will – to tear the words from you whether you wished it or not.

“I–I will always love you.”

To your relief, he withdrew, but your relief was short-lived. His lips curled smugly as he crawled over your body and nudged your thighs apart.

“I’m half tempted to discard this form, just to see if you’d love my others as freely as you love little Halbrand. But I think,” he hiked your thighs over his hips. “He’s not quite done breaking you in yet. Let’s try again, shall we?”

And once more, he dug his fingers into your body and his claws into your mind.

----------

AN: my main account wasn’t letting me post, so I posted this request here instead. The rest (which are much more tame and, in a way, more in character) will be posted on my main when I figure out what’s going on! :)

[runawaymun]

"To [Elrond's] surprise, Celebrimbor really does just allow him to sleep, giving him those touches that are so generous, so casual. And he wishes for nothing in the morning. And still nothing that following night, and the night after that, and the night after that, save to ask the question: 'would you like to be held tonight, elincë?' to be answered yes or no, and when the answer is yes (it always is, Elrond cannot lie, it always is, but Celebrimbor asks twice to be certain he is telling the truth) to hold him, read one of his books while he idly strokes Elrond’s hair, and lets him rest. "

Hi. I missed writing them. And this was one of those parts of Partake that I daydream regularly about and decided to finally write down. Originally I skipped over it/summarized for pacing reasons, but I've been Thinking About Them lately and also just...early Partake!Elrond hits a little differently now that I've put him and Gil on the page more together. So I wanted to get back into his headspace and really explore more of that opening-up phase, so to speak.

I just got to thinking that there's no way that first night went smoothly lol. Each chapter is a stand-alone ficlet.

This fic has way more to do with To Partake than it has to do with Rings of Power, and could probably be read on its own from a Silmarillion perspective, just like To Partake, with the understanding that Elrond and Gil-Galad have had an incredibly toxic relationship for quite a while, and Tyelpe is helping Elrond recover. <3 <3 <3

Anyway this is incredibly self indulgent. :) I hope you guys enjoy. I will likely write more of the nights when I feel like it. But for now, here's the first one.

This is also an informal gift to @crumbling-toast and @metatomatoes because without y'all this fic wouldn't be the same. I'm forever so grateful for all the cheerleading you do and the way you guys pick up on every little thing I try to slip in. It makes me so so feral <3 Thank you!!!

[myrsinemezzo]

Two months later than I thought it would take, but Chapter 39 of my personal behemoth fic is up! I love writing battle scenes, so this one was extra fun.

[ophidion]

this is not a come-on

*in any way, shape, or form

or the #haladriel 'When Harry Met Sally' au

Fandom: The Rings of Power Fanfiction Pairing: Galadriel / Halbrand | Sauron Rating: E Chapter: 1 of 20 Word Count: 8,294

read on ao3

"Hal was still a total asshole. Fortunately, she was a bitch, and they both liked to say fuck every fifth word."

They’d known each other for 14 years and 10 months. Rivals for almost three. Reluctant allies for just shy of a year. Ruthless partners and near-inseparable best friends for the rest.

They’d shared beds across the country, beverages that they didn’t bother to label, and even a few ex-boyfriends. But, Halbrand and Galadriel had never even shared so much as a peck on the cheek.

Yet, here they were, discussing sharing a baby, based on a drunken pact they’d made when they were barely best friends.

However, their baby-making methodology is currently up for debate. And... well how far does the definition of a 'Platonic Pregnancy Pact' go when you ditch the baster?

[conundrumoftime]

Fic update: Shadow-Bride, chapter 32

Rings of Power Haladriel canon-divergent fic. In this chapter: the warrior learns what her new ring Nenya can do, and the elves finally gain some much-needed missing information about the smith's plans for the future.

Sample: “Even if I could forgive Sauron for his death I could never forgive the manner of it. To take his hope, his belief in all of us! I still think of his last days in Sauron’s dungeons seeing his own beautiful tower turned to a place of horror around him and whatever Beren said, I think he must have been afraid. I think he must have known despair.”

And Nenya sang to her of clear cool waters, bringing life to parched land; of ice melting from frost-frozen branches and new leaves slowly unfurling from their buds; of the sharp broken edges of stones worn smooth by a river’s flow.

[baddybaddyadardaddy]

Chapter 50: Embers

In which the land of Mordor is born and the uruks are safe... right?

[thrillofhope]

Me, finally, with an update for one of my Haladriel wips. Here’s chapter 9 of Twelve Days Later.

“Would you rather get mauled to death by werewolves or sucked dry by a vampire?” Galadriel asks after a long moment of consideration.

Finrod sighs. It had been too many rounds of this dumb game to pass the time and the questions just keep getting stupider. “Werewolves,” he says, like the answer is obvious. “Team Jacob for life.”

Her jaw drops and she swings her head over to look at him, sprawled out beside her on the hood of the car. “I’m sorry? Did my ears just deceive me or did you make a pop culture reference?”

[shady-swan-jones]

Remember Me Like This

Galadriel/Halbrand. Mature. In Progress [1/3] Chapter 1: As I Am Today

“I feel at peace here.” Halbrand says simply. But heaviness lies on what he omits. His peace cannot last. - Eregion, after Halbrand is healed. The fate of the rings is decided between stolen kisses and promises.

In the meadow of Eregion, peace breeds flowers and roots bask in the last rays of sunlight—everything Galadriel fights to preserve. The singing leaves and dancing winds echo the harmony of nature, tranquility woven into the very fabric of the land, even in the face of decay. It’s a place where ancient trees whisper tales of her people, and in their melodies, Galadriel finds belonging.

Footsteps sound behind her, the soft crush of fallen leaves betraying his approach. 

“Halbrand,” she calls without looking. 

He chuckles and she pictures teeth sinking into his lower lip. 

“You should be resting,” she admonishes.  Turning around, she meets his eyes. They pierce hers like a Valinorian dagger. 

Their journey to Eregion is a blur in her memory. Riding tirelessly day and night, a hollow worry gnawing at her, a fear he may not endure the relentless pace. Urging the horse to unforgiving speed, they raced towards the sunrise, as if her determination could rupture the fabric of time itself. She would ensure his safe arrival, there was no other option. They pursued the dawn, a desperate attempt to outpace the miles and elude the encroaching darkness. Even if her lungs were burning, she would shield him from its looming threat. She fought to get him here, and now he’s standing before her. 

All is in her mind though, he was crossing between unconsciousness and numbness. It’s as if he awoke to another life. 

His gaze lacks the concealed inquiry, it lingers on her without pretense.  

“You are bathed in light,” he murmurs, fixated upon her golden locks radiating like a halo in ethereal glow.

He must be afflicted by the fever, she reasons. Yet as she approaches, he emanates serenity. He stands tall, centered, strong, nothing betraying a man mortally wounded a fortnight ago.

Her touch upon his forehead detects no heat beyond the warmth she had seen in the bodies of men.

He halts it with two fingers on the inside of her wrist.

“I’m alright. Your people’s medicine healed me. What’s the secret?”

"Elven herbs are potent in essence. It heals not only the body but the spirit."

“I feel it.” She believes him. A newfound glow graces his face. 

“I am relieved. However, the High King should not witness you wandering. Return within," she implores, taking his elbow. Yet he stands unyielding. 

"I have fostered the inclination to follow in your footsteps, wherever they may lead," he says softly, the faint sketch of a smile on his lips. 

From the raft to Numenor, to the Southlands and now here, her constant companion. She’d grown accustomed to his presence, vexing at first, then steadfast and resolute, like a shadow. 

She crosses her arms, a half-hearted attempt at cross-examination.

“You didn’t follow me here. I all but carried you unconscious on the saddle.” She injects some light to the conversation, but his eyes fail to spark of mirth. 

It’s not her assertion he responds to. 

“I was lucky to cross your path.” He speaks plainly, but there’s something lingering in his gaze, moving from the dip of her eyes, to where her arms are clasped together. She fidgets under its weight. 

“It was not luck that brought us together.”

“-then I’ll have to thank powers I cannot name, for pulling a mouthy elf out of the water and joining your quest.” He smiles, coaxing the fragment of mirth out of her. 

“Even if I shattered your precious peace?”

He gazes at the greenery, then at her. 

“I feel at peace here.” He says simply. But heaviness lies on what he omits. Hia peace cannot last.  

“Treasure it for you will depart soon. Your place is in the Southlands, by your people.” It’s an assertion to herself too. She feels the weight her sentence carries. Reminding him of his duty is a familiar refrain, only now the gravity settles. Now there are people to guide; what they need is a king.

The corners of his mouth curve into a smile -the sweetest she’s seen from him until now. His lip is still chapped, though the scar tissue has subsided. The dipping sun paints his hair with strikes of auburn, as when he’s facing the fire in the blacksmith’s forge. He finds a lock that sits on her shoulder, plays with it reverently, as if by that golden strand he is deciding his fate. 

“My place is with you.” 

Her lips fall open, a tangled breath getting out. Gleaming hazel eyes giving a simple truth. Whatever thought she entertained evaporates. He waits, his fingers stilling around her hair. She’s glassy waters, waiting for a fish to cut the stillness. He leans down and breathes a kiss on her lips. It’s soft, but lingering. “My peace is with you,” he whispers when he’s close. 

Then lifts her jaw and closes the distance, plunging them both into a bone-melting kiss. 

His lips move around hers with such ferocity she has to fist her hands on his tunic for support. In the warmth of his embrace, she feels alive, the taste of him like beaten metal succumbing to heat. His strong arms circle her, settling on her waist, igniting everything in their path. No one understands the fire inside her, but he kindles it, coaxes it, binding it to his. 

“Galadriel,” he utters her name like a prayer to a forgotten god. "Before you, I was lost at sea. Beyond repentance, a sinner hiding from his past. You brought me to the light, to your light. My power, my crown, my future—I want to share them with you."

She kisses him, swallowing his promises. He accepts and follows, yet when they come up for air, his eyes are begging for an answer. 

She watches as the light slowly leaves his face. 

“I gave my heart thousands of years before you opened your eyes. Now it lies buried under the carcasses of elfs slaughtered by orcs of Sauron. To reclaim it, I must bring about his end."

She has buried enough kin to walk away towards the sunset. She can’t start anew without finishing her quest, ending Sauron’s bloody rule once and for all. Halband can’t offer her absolution, nor flowery words to exempt her from her fate. 

If there is a future as he envisions, one where she’s content and reigning, she doesn't yet deserve it. 

Halbrand holds her tighter, fingers splaying on her back.

"It’s but your grief speaking. It has steered you through ages, but do not let it shape your destiny. You once urged me to release the past; do likewise.” He cradles her head on his palms. “I promise, I will ease your sorrow.”

Her eyes glisten. Temptation tugs at her from deep inside. It would be easy to succumb. Unlace the armor that has been part of her skin, lay down her weapons, rest. 

Her fingers thread on the back of his neck, bringing him down to almost taste her lips. 

“You saved me, Halbrand. You were my raft in the storm. But I long for steady land under my feet and it will take me lifetimes to be worthy of it.” 

She has to keep fighting. His span of life is too narrow to fit her purpose. 

The hand runs circles on the soft flesh under her ear, the calloused pads awakening her skin. 

“Then let me give you eons in a night.” He trails his fingers over her neck, following the chords to her jaw with his lips. “Let me leave a print in the glass of your immortality.”

She touches his chest, feeling the unsteady beat of his heart. The melody, she etches it into memory. She’s already into the future, missing him.

“I won’t forget you,” she vows. 

Another kiss, this time on her brow. 

“But I want you to remember me like this. If I'm a stranger in your future, remember I was good once.”

She seals her promise with her lips. If she can't have an eternity, she will revel in today. A day, a moment, a touch. 

Eyes closed, she captures his mouth again, stifling the silent groan as her tongue brushes his. The hands on her hips shift and she’s lifted off the ground as Halbrand carries her, walking blindly, never cutting the kiss. 

Eventually, he lays her down, and their lips reluctantly part. His eyes, a reflection of countless tales, meet hers, and for a heartbeat, time stands still.

"Remember me," he whispers, voice a soft plea.

She pulls him on top of her and layers of fabric surrender to the urgency -the way layers of her soul are shed one by one. They meet and mold around each other and Habrand brushes the hair out of her eyes softly. The aim was to seal their connection, shutting it forever. But as they dance in the melody of their bond, something happens. The threads that hold them, instead of being severed, grow stronger, entwined with each shared breath and heartbeat. Between kisses, their fates merge. 

End of Part 1

[sluttyseacadet]

WORDS UNSPOKEN

Elendil & Isildur, Elendil's wife – Hurt/Comfort

During a quiet day out at sea, Isildur confides in his mother his doubts for the future that his father has planned for him.

Read on AO3

They should have been back by now.

When Elendil opened the door, his stomach sank. The sky was muddled with black swirling clouds, shrouding the city in darkness. Heavy gray sheets pelted down onto the slick cobblestones and a forceful gale swung the door closed behind him, whipping his hair across his face and plastering it to his skin. He peered through the curtain of steady downpour, looking up and down the streets for any sign of them, but they were nowhere to be seen.

A jagged white line tore open the blackened sky, quickly followed by a sharp roar crashing overhead. He could no longer fight his unease, a harsh chill whispering over his bones. As he turned and ran, all he could do was hope that he was not too late.

[rebelrebelwrites]

Fic Friday! ❤️ Rebel’s Weekly Fic Recs

Sorry it took so long to get this out! It’s been a week. Thankfully, as always, this week's recs are...

As always, please mind the tags on any recommended story for your own personal preferences.

+++

The Classic You’ve Heard Of But Somehow Haven’t Read Yet: But mine is as hungry as the sea by @liminal-zone

What you need to know going in:

When I say classic, I mean classic. Fairly certain this masterpiece was one of the first fics I read in the fandom, and in preparation of writing this rec I decided to bask in its beauty another time. The story is one of the first to chart Galadriel and Sauron after Eregion visiting each other in their dreams for some seriously smoldering smut and angst. As the ages of Middle-earth pass, Galadriel grows in both power and wisdom, retreating into Lothlorien and herself. I don’t want to add too much more—just tell you to go experience this gem yourself. It’s beautifully written, achingly sad, and one I—and you—will return to time and again.

Complete, Explicit

Read the story.

Follow the author on Tumblr or AO3.

+++

The AU You Need to Immerse Yourself In Because, Well, Wow: internal combustion by Lexicon935

What you need to know going in:

This AU is aptly titled because it describes my reaction while reading it to a T—absolute 🔥🔥🔥. A one-shot, modern AU featuring a mean Halbrand (which is quickly becoming something of a flavor of these two I’m enjoying more and more, particularly in AU settings) and a rightfully bowled over Galadriel. The premise is simple: Gal is late to her mechanic’s appointment. Hal is her mechanic, and he’s not pleased. Or…is he? 👀 An absolutely filthy, heaping helping of smut. Like I said: 🔥🔥🔥!

Complete, Explicit

Read the story.

Follow the author on Twitter or AO3.

+++

The Complete But Never Forgotten Masterpiece: Fabricated by @frotu

What you need to know going in:

Oo, I love this fic! I feel like I stumbled across it by chance and was in love immediately. The premise grabs you straight away: Galadriel and Sauron rule Pelargir not-so-happily together, and when Sauron overhears a few subjects gossiping over their lack of an heir, he impresses on her the need for them to keep up appearances with a few recurring nighttime visits. The resulting arrangement creates this tentative, tantalizing trickle of a relationship that builds so satisfyingly well, and tugs at the heartstrings in a sighing, swoon-worthy way.

Complete, Teen

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The WIP That Will Wreck You (In the Best Way): with hands as gentle as rain, i shall strangle him by @bad-surprise

What you need to know going in:

Oooooof, this story. I shiver just thinking about it! From trepidation and a little bit of terror and just how freaking terrific it is. The premise: Sauron goes full Annatar, Lord of Gifts, in a bid to try and entice Galadriel to reconsider his proposal after leaving Eregion—and each gift he gives her is more unsettling than the one before it. Sauron is delightfully disturbing in this while still being captivating and very much enthralled with Galadriel, who, however terrified, can’t shake him, either. The tension’s at an all-time high in this WIP and I can’t wait to see where it goes next.

WIP, Explicit

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The Can’t Stop Consuming No Matter What Time It Is Fic: I could be your king by @cliffdivingsblog

What you need to know going in:

Another favorite WIP that when I get an update in my inbox, I rush to finish whatever I’m doing and read ASAP. A season 1 retelling that diverges from canon in some really unique ways, be ready for glimpses into a redemption-seeking Sauron (in his own limited way) an always-charging forward Galadriel, dreamlike flashbacks into Sauron’s past (Melkor is a real standout amongst the Valar in this, but the characterization of everyone is top-tier), and insanely scintillating smut. To just name a few of the things that make this fic totally binge-worthy.

WIP, Explicit

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🤩🤩🤩

Me at all these fics:

Don’t see your story on this list yet? Keyword: yet. Please don’t fret! I can only recommend so many each week, but I am always looking for more stuff to read, share, and generally shower with love, so please feel free to reply with your own fics or your personal faves. I have plenty more to recommend… ❤️

Until next week!

[wizardheart83]

[bad-surprise]

at the museum, with you across the way

chapter 17: when the world is quiet, i can hear you thinking

haladriel college au | E | 57.6k | 17/?

[runawaymun]

To Partake update!

In which Gil-Galad and Elrond have a conversation and Erestor shows a heck of a lot of self control.

Enjoy y'all! <3 love you!!

[myrsinemezzo]

And it’s done! Haladriel modern noir AU. Slightly unhinged ending like any good noir worth its salt should have.

Each Scar I Carve is in Your Name

E | 4/4 | 25k

[ophidion]

shining like a fiery beacon

chapter 21: i don't care if heaven won't take me back

Fandom: The Rings of Power Fanfiction Pairing: Galadriel / Halbrand | Sauron Rating: E Chapter: 21 of 33 Word Count: 147,004

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Set after the Finale.

Galadriel has left Eregion, has run as far from the Southlands as the map allows.

It was fitting that she wanders to where her search for her enemy (her almost) had last ended, on the opposite end of this Middle Earth in the northern wasteland.

She doesn’t remain alone in her exile for long.

[conundrumoftime]

Fic update: Shadow-Bride, chapter 33

My canon-divergent Rings of Power Haladriel story.

Chapter sample:

The prince, by all measures, was a valuable prize. He was the last of Thingol’s line, the greatest royal house of the Sindar; he was surely Gil-galad’s heir in the eyes of the Noldor even if not yet named so. He descended from the great mariner Eärendil, of the exile queen Elwing who carried a Silmaril, of Turgon of Gondolin, of Fëanor, of Melian and of Lúthien. His brother’s people still ruled Númenor today.

And for all that grandeur now he sat in the corner of a tent with blood and dirt on his face, a chain around his ankle and an arrow-shaft buried in his shoulder.

Shadow-Bride - Chapter 33 - eye_of_a_cat - The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power (TV 2022) [Archive of Our Own]