theredwritingwitch

[theredwritingwitch]

Benjamin Walker as Erik Gelden JESSICA JONES SEASON 3 (2019), created by Melissa Rosenberg

[theredwritingwitch]

Shimmer Lake (2017) directed by Oren Uziel Benjamin Walker as Zeke Sikes

[theredwritingwitch]

Farmer Smithson is not really a farmer; He's a therapist. ...Who maybe should be in therapy himself.

Benjamin Walker in "Love is Blind", 2019.

[Two of my faves are in this movie (Aidan Turner and Ben Walker), and it was a peculiar kind of movie. I loved it.]

Edit: I found the movie under the title "Look away". Seems it was officially renamed to Love is blind. You'll have better chances finding it under the official title ;)

[theredwritingwitch]

This is it. The last and final part. It is a little longer than the other parts since I did not want to make anyone suffer anymore. :D Thank you to everyone who joined on me on this journey and all the likes, comments and shares you have given my story. It was only meant to be a one-shot and now it became a little series. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. xoxo PART I , PART II , PART III

⭐ WHEN THE STARS ALIGN ⭐

The Hall of Echoes* was named for its perfect acoustics. Every word, every whisper, every step echoed back a little too clearly—an architectural miracle and, today, a curse.

You stood near the far end, half-hidden behind a pillar adorned with carved leaves, trying to be small in a room built for spectacle. The council meeting was not closed, though you hadn’t planned to attend. You had wandered in by accident - or perhaps fate, your heart whispered - but now you stayed, curiosity holding you captive.

Gil-Galad stood in the centre, speaking with composed grace to a group of elven envoys cloaked in green and gold. From the Greenwood, you gathered. Proud, stiff-backed, and not nearly as subtle as they believed themselves to be.

They listened, nodded, responded in polite tones … and then, without missing a beat, one of them spoke words you would not forget.

“Forgive me, my lord,” said the elder among them, his voice smooth like river stones. “But we have heard a rumour. That your affections have… wandered into unexpected territory.”

The air did not shift. No one gasped. But it froze.

Gil-Galad said nothing at first. His stillness was its own kind of power. You watched him, heart in your throat.

“And what territory might that be?” he asked coolly.

A younger envoy chimed in - too eager. “The half-elven woman who arrived with Lady Galadriel. Sweet-faced, from the forest cottage, is she not? There’s talk she’s caught the High King’s eye.”

It was meant to be lighthearted. A jest. But it cut like a blade.

“Most curious,” the elder added, with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “We had assumed the King would choose a more ... politically favourable match.”

That was when your breath caught. And not from the comment itself, but from the way Gil-Galad looked at them.

As if they were beneath the forest floor.

His voice, when it came, was low and firm. “You may discuss the terms of alliances. You may offer wisdom about borders and trade. But the matter of my heart is not yours to weigh.”

That silence? This time, it thundered.

He turned on his heel, cloak sweeping the floor like a shadow. His steps carried him past your hiding place, and for one suspended moment, his eyes found yours.

Not wide with panic. Not hard with shame.

Calm.

A quiet promise, unspoken: I see you. I am not ashamed.

But you were.

Not of him. Never of him.

You were ashamed of how your knees trembled. Of how deeply the words of strangers had sunk their roots into your chest. You fled the hall before anyone could speak to you, slipping out through the archways into the open air. You didn’t stop running until you reached the far end of the gardens, where the trees grew wilder and less tamed.

There, beneath a willow tree, you sat, hands trembling, mind racing.

You didn’t belong here. Not really.

Not in marble halls filled with sharp smiles. Not in whispered politics and well-bred expectations.

What did you think would happen? That he would throw away centuries of duty for a kiss under starlight?

You pulled your knees to your chest, the soft rustle of the leaves above your only answer.

And that’s when the thought hit you: Maybe it would be better if you left.

Before this turned into something the world could destroy.

Before you let yourself hope. You looked up and watched the branches of the tree dancing in wind, hoping they would give you advise on how to fare with your heart. 

But the willow tree offered no answers.

Its long silver-green branches swayed gently in the breeze, brushing the grass like fingertips against water. You sat beneath its shade, arms wrapped around your knees, watching the late afternoon sun dip slowly behind the canopy. Every sound of Lindon felt miles away now - its laughter, its elegance, its whispered cruelties.

You didn’t notice Galadriel until her shadow fell beside you.

“You used to hide like this when you were a child,” she said quietly, lowering herself to the ground beside you. “Always in the trees. I never had to look hard. I just had to listen for the birds. They never stopped singing when you were near.”

You smiled faintly, but didn’t speak.

“I was in the hall,” she added after a pause. “I heard what they said.”

You flinched, the memory still sharp and raw.

“And I saw his face when they said it,” she continued. “He looked like he was ready to burn the entire court to the ground.”

That pulled a laugh from you. Soft, shaken. “He shouldn’t have to defend me.”

“He didn’t have to,” Galadriel said, her voice gentle but firm. “He chose to.”

Silence stretched between you again, broken only by the rustle of leaves.

“I don’t belong here,” you said finally, your voice only a whisper.

Galadriel didn’t argue. She didn’t try to convince you otherwise.

“I know it feels that way,” she said. “They will always find a reason to say you are too much of one thing, not enough of another. Too mortal, too elven, too in between. But none of them have his heart.”

You looked at her, eyes wide.

“That man - Gil-Galad, your High King, my commander, the weight of half the world on his shoulders - he has never looked at anyone the way he looks at you.” She smiled, soft and sad. “And he never will again.”

Your throat tightened. “What if I ruin him? What if this, whatever this is, makes everything harder for him?”

Galadriel looked away, toward the trees. “Love always makes things harder. But it also makes them worth it.”

A breeze danced past, lifting a strand of hair from your face. You felt her hand slide into yours.

“But if you must go,” she whispered, “I won’t stop you. Just don’t go without knowing the truth: he is braver when you are near. Stronger. Lighter. If you leave, the world will not end. But it will grow a little dimmer for him.”

You rested your head against her shoulder, tears clinging to your lashes.

But even after Galadriel left, long after the sun had dipped below the trees, that uncertainty remained.

You didn’t sleep that night.

***

The stars watched in silence as you packed your things.

The moon was high, cloaking Lindon in silver as you moved quietly through the guest quarters. You folded each garment with shaking hands, tucked letters and herbs into your bag with the quiet resolve of someone trying to disappear without making a sound.

You didn’t leave a note. There was nothing to say.

As you closed the clasp on your satchel, you stepped out into the hallway, trying not to look back.

But the moment you stepped into the moonlight … he was there.

Gil-Galad.

Standing at the end of the corridor, lit like something pulled from a dream.

“Where are you going?” His voice was low. Not demanding - pleading.

You froze. Words tangled on your tongue.

“I…” You looked down. “I don’t belong here. You know that.”

“I don’t care,” he said, taking a step forward.

“I do,” you whispered. “I care that they look at me like I’m less. Like I’m wrong. And I care that you have to fight their judgment just to - just to love me.”

He came closer. Slowly. Carefully. Like you might vanish if he moved too fast.

“Let them talk,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “Let them doubt, let them scorn. I will not let their fears dictate my heart.”

You looked up at him, eyes wide and shimmering. “You can’t choose this path lightly.”

“I’m not,” he said. “But I am choosing it. I’m choosing you.”

Another step. Now he stood before you, the scent of cedar and night air clinging to his cloak.

“I am tired of waiting for the stars to align,” he whispered. “Of hiding my heart behind diplomacy. I was a king before I knew what love was. But now…” He reached for your hand, pulling it to his chest.

“Now I know. And I don’t want a crown without you beside me.”

Your breath caught.

“Stay,” he said, voice breaking fully now. “Stay with me. Not as a guest. Not as a secret. Stay … as my queen. Forever.” His words hung in the air like a prayer offered to the stars.

But there was a long silence and you simply stared at him. 

Even the stars waited for your answer.

The world narrowed. No palace walls, no crown, no courtiers; just his voice, your heart, and the wild thundering silence that followed.

A part of you wanted to say yes immediately, to fall into him and let the promise of forever bloom between your hands like moonflowers in the dark. But something inside held you still, trembling at the edge of everything you had ever wanted.

“I…” you whispered. “I’m afraid.”

His hand tightened gently around yours.

“So am I,” he replied, eyes never leaving yours. “But I’m more afraid of living without you than I am of any crown. Any war. Any whisper.”

Your throat burned. “What if I’m not enough? What if I fail you? What if I can’t wear this life the way you deserve?”

He brought your joined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to your fingers with reverence.

“Then we’ll fail together,” he murmured. “But you are already more than enough. You are everything, and I would face a thousand years of doubt just to spend one with you.”

A pause.

And then, like breath returning to lungs after too long underwater, you smiled.

Tears clung to your lashes as you leaned forward, resting your forehead against his.

“You ridiculous elf,” you breathed.

His chuckle was soft, relieved.

“Yes,” you whispered.

He stilled. Pulled back just enough to see your face.

“Yes?” he echoed, like he couldn’t believe it.

“Yes,” you repeated, laughter catching in your throat. “I’ll stay. I’ll be yours. Your queen. Forever.”

And in the quiet corridor, with no one to see and no court to judge, he kissed you again.

This time, it wasn’t under starlight or stolen in shadow - it was the beginning of forever.

⭐ Epilogue ⭐

The forest was just as it had been.

Tall trees swayed like old sentinels. Light spilled through the canopy in golden ribbons. Birds sang in the branches, and the air tasted like the first day of spring.

It was here that you had wandered once, uncertain and aching, chasing silence and solace. It was here you had met him—Gil-Galad, not as a king, but as a stranger in the woods, carrying too much weight in his eyes.

And it was here, now, that you walked together, hand in hand, with no crown between you.

You had left the celebration behind, slipping away from the grand halls and ceremonial toasts. The wedding, the coronation, the speeches - it had all passed like a dream.

But this moment was real.

Barefoot on mossy ground, your fingers laced with his, his hair braided with small silver leaves. He had insisted on the crown being left behind for the evening, declaring the trees did not care for titles.

“I almost didn’t come this far,” you said, brushing your fingers against a fern.

“You almost left,” he replied gently. “And I would have followed.”

You turned toward him, eyebrows raised. “Really?”

“I would have run barefoot through every shadow of Middle-earth,” he said, entirely serious. “I would have crossed oceans, scaled mountains, argued with Elrond—”

“Bold, truly,” you teased.

He smiled, that rare, dazzling smile that made your knees go soft.

“I would have found you,” he said, more softly now. “Even if you had hidden behind a thousand trees. My heart already knew the way.”

You leaned into him, head resting against his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around your waist.

“I used to think the forest was my only home,” you whispered. “But it turns out it was just waiting for you to arrive.”

The wind stirred the leaves above, like an unseen choir giving its blessing.

You stayed there for a long time, listening to the hush of the woods, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek, and the knowledge that no matter what storms may come - this place, this love, would always remain. *made up name :D

[theredwritingwitch]

I feel ashamed, truly!😭💕 I don't know what's wrong with me that I am unwillingly on a hiatus again after I dropped my next writings. I truly apologize to everyone who is waiting in my inbox, and I truly apologize to everyone who was waiting for a third part of my Gil-Galad series. I never intended to write a story with multiple parts but here we are! And I am happy about it, ngl! And before panic breaks out: The next and final part is also already written and will be published shortly after this one! 💕 For now, I can only hope and wish that you enjoy this part of the story as well! It might be a bit wonky, but I hope you still like it! Enjoy! 💕 PART I - PART II

HEAVY IS THE CROWN

Pairing: Gil-Galad x Reader

Summary: Part III of "Forest Heart" - The aftermath of your kiss with the High King. Is there regret? Or a new sense of longing?

Warnings: Perhaps a little angsty?

🌿🌿🌿

The morning sun spilled gently across the marble floors of your room, gilding the walls in soft gold. Outside your window, the birds sang as they always had — but today, their melody felt different. Sweeter, maybe. Or perhaps it was the ache blooming in your chest that made everything around you feel fragile and new.

You hadn’t slept. Not truly. Every time your eyes closed, you saw his face again. Gil-Galad, the High King of the Noldor, standing beneath the moonlight with your name on his lips and a kiss that still lingered on yours like morning dew on rose petals. The memory of it was enough to make your fingers tremble as you tried to get up from the bed, your arms slightly shaking.

What had you done?

What had he done?

And why—despite every logical thought clawing at your mind—did it feel right?

You shook your head, trying to get rid of these thoughts. Lingering on them won’t soothe your nerves. So, you slowly got up and wrapped yourself in a simple robe to step out onto the balcony. Below, the city of elves began to stir: servants running around with laundry or food in their hands, elven scholars exchanging scrolls in the courtyards, guards moving in quiet rhythm. Life moved forward, unchanged. As if the world didn’t know that your heart had unraveled beneath a tree the night before.

You clutched the railing, eyes drawn to the distant forests where silver light had wrapped around you both like fate’s quiet approval. Would he remember it as you did? Or would he wear the crown again today as though nothing had happened?

A soft knock interrupted your thoughts.

You turned. "Come in," you said, though your voice barely rose above the hush of morning.

The door opened, and Galadriel stepped inside, bathed in a calm that didn't quite hide the fire in her eyes.

“You look like you’ve spent the night arguing with your soul,” she said simply.

You smiled, tired. “What if I have?”

Galadriel walked to you, her steps light as shadows. “Then I hope it was honest.”

You opened your mouth to speak, to deny or explain—but she raised a hand.

“You do not owe me anything,” she said, her tone gentle but unyielding. “But I will say this, mellon: no one kisses the High King in moonlit gardens and walks away unchanged. Not him. Not you. Not the court.”

The weight of her words settled over you. “You knew?”

“I felt it,” she said. “In the trees. In the stars. The Valar are watching, and even they hold their breath for what comes next.”

You swallowed, heart pounding. “And what does come next?”

Galadriel’s gaze softened. “That, my dear, is entirely up to you. But I would not leave without saying this—love is a powerful thing. It can move kings. It can shape destiny. But it also demands courage.”

She reached out, brushing a thumb across your cheek like a sister might.

“Find your courage. Because he has not yet found his.”

With that, she turned and left, her robes trailing like moonlight behind her.

And you stood in the silence she left behind, heart pounding with a truth you could no longer ignore.

***

The crown rested on a pedestal beside him, untouched.

Gil-Galad sat at the edge of his bed, the morning light catching the fine edges of his unbound hair. He had not dressed for court yet—had not moved, truly, since the night had ended. His armor remained untouched in the corner, and the ceremonial cloak lay folded across a chair, waiting.

But he… he waited for nothing.

Last night, he had let himself forget. Under the hush of moonlight, under the trembling touch of your hand on his chest, he had surrendered. Not as a king. Not as the last high hope of the Noldor. But as a man.

And now… the morning had come.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, fingers laced together tightly. His thumb still brushed absentmindedly against his palm—where your hand had once been.

“I shouldn’t have,” he murmured to no one. But even now, the words sounded hollow.

The truth was, he had never known such peace. Not in centuries of bearing titles, not in decades of forging alliances. And certainly not in the throne room, where the air was always thick with expectations and the sound of footsteps on polished stone.

But in the garden… with you… there had been no crown. Only starlight. Only breath and trembling hands and your lips against his.

And now, the crown whispered to him again, like it always did.

He rose slowly and walked to the tall mirror near the window. The man who stared back was the one they all expected: poised, solemn, carved from marble and myth. But his eyes gave him away. Still soft. Still full of that same haunted wonder.

You had changed him. And he hadn’t even touched the rest of the world yet this morning, but already, he could feel the court’s breath at his neck. He could feel the glances that would come if they ever knew. You were half-elf, born of two worlds, belonging to neither in their eyes. In his, you were something else entirely: a bridge, a balm, a soul he could breathe beside.

But love, for a king, was never just love.

His hands clenched at his sides.

A knock came at the door—measured, too proper to be unexpected.

“Elrond,” Gil-Galad said, voice steady.

The herald entered with a bowed head. “My lord. The envoy from the Greenwood is preparing for council. They ask if you’ll receive them before midday.”

Gil-Galad nodded absently.

Elrond hesitated. “And… shall I arrange for the Lady Galadriel’s guest to be moved to a quieter part of the palace?”

The king’s eyes flicked up.

So it had begun already—the whispers, the suggestions masked as kindness.

“No,” he said quietly. “They stay where they are.”

A pause.

Elrond inclined his head, and though he said nothing more, there was a glimmer in his eyes. A knowing. A permission unspoken.

When the door closed behind him, Gil-Galad exhaled.

He turned to the window and looked toward the garden. He couldn’t see you from here, but he felt you still. Somewhere in the city, breathing the same air, perhaps wondering the same things. He longed to go to you. To say all the things he hadn’t. To ask you what came next.

But first, he had to decide something for himself.

He looked at the crown again—gleaming in the sunlight.

Then, slowly, deliberately, he walked away from it.

To be continued!

[theredwritingwitch]

HES SO DIVA!

[theredwritingwitch]

Benjamin Walker as High King Gil-Galad -> The Rings of Power Season 2

[theredwritingwitch]

4 february 2025 - the london premiere of september 5.

[theredwritingwitch]

Safe travels, sir. Thank you for everything.

Val Edward Kilmer December 31, 1959 - April 1, 2025

[theredwritingwitch]

THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE RINGS OF POWER costume appreciation: ✦ GIL-GALAD'S WARDROBE ✦ Costume design by Kate Hawley & Luca Mosca

[theredwritingwitch]

Somehow he still seems to enjoy basking in the sunlight and the quiet busyness of the birds and butterflies. They say necromancy is a dark art, but whoever reanimated the beast of the black swamp knew what they were doing.

[theredwritingwitch]

love love love this!!! This elven king drives my crazy in the best way possible!

Granted An Audience

This is way longer than I intended it to be when I started it back in *checks draft date* JUNE OF LAST YEAR (?!), but it's still a oneshot. There's already a sequel itching to come out of my brain!

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

High King Gil-Galad x Reader

[A/N: This is fluff.]

Warnings: Attraction at first sight, idiots in love, they both think their love is unrequited, but it's very requited, this is either pre-Rings of Power or just in a separate AU where none of that plot happens, pre-relationship, they're both so so so in love yet neither of them can see how in love the other is, dw the idiots do eventually smooch.

~*~

Two years after Elrond extended his invitation to visit Lindon, I finally got the chance to make the journey. Accompanied by only my horse, my bow, and my wits, I crossed the border into Elvish territory in less time than I'd anticipated. The sweet scent of flowers mixed with the aromatic tree bark floated upon the breeze creating a heady perfume. The gentle rustling of leaves softened the sound of my horse's trotting hooves as I approached the gate.

"Who goes there?" A guard called down from the tower, and I pulled Elrond's letter from within my saddlebag.

"I come at the invitation of Elrond, Herald to the High King," I answered, and once through, I dismounted and gave my name so that word might be sent ahead to my friend. My letter was inspected, as well as the seal, and the guard eventually gave a nod of approval. After I'd retrieved my bag, my horse was led away to the stables to be tended, and I made my way toward the palace with a pair of guards as an escort.

I was led through several winding halls toward an antechamber that resembled more closely a ballroom. I was left to my own devices after being told that my friend had been summoned and would join me when he was able. Despite the urgency of my task, waiting was no burden, not in a place like this.

Once alone, I allowed my curiosity to get the better of me, wandering the length of the room and admiring the sheer magnificence of the craftsmanship. The beauty of this place was undeniable. Even the windows were finely-made, their frames delicately carved and inlaid with gilt details.

So engrossed was I with the grandeur surrounding me, I did not bother to keep track of how long I'd been there. Eventually, though, the door did open to reveal my friend wearing a large, warm smile.

"Mellon-nín, I am pleased beyond words that you have come to Lindon," the Ellon called giving me a very formal bow which I answered with a curtsy.

Valar, I must have looked wind-swept and worse for wear. My riding leathers were nearing the end of their usefulness, my boots should have been replaced nearly three seasons ago, and my skirt had dried mud staining the hem. Despite my less-than-elegant appearance, Elrond swept me up in an embrace as soon as I was within arm's reach. The softness of his robes and tunic felt almost foreign beneath my fingertips. Our village produced nothing of such fine quality in terms of clothing.

"And I am more pleased than I can express to be here, though, I must admit, only half of my motivation was for pleasure," I admitted as he finally pulled back and grasped my hands.

"No matter. You are here, regardless of your reasons, and I fear I must warn you that I will be making every excuse to spend time with you," he murmured, and I couldn't help the huff of laughter that escaped me. He tucked my arm into the crook of his elbow, and I followed him deeper into the maze of hallways. How strange a pair we must've appeared! "So, if the pleasure of my company is only one half of the reason you chose to visit, what is the other half?"

I took a deep breath and looked up at my friend.

"I...need to beg an audience with the High King. Rather desperately, actually." At that, my friend paused and looked at me, concern etched in his features. "I know your king is busy, and I'm just a mortal from a small village, but it is an official petition. I have no idea how to approach requesting an audience, but–"

"Fear not, I shall make all the arrangements for you, but I do hope you know that I am always here should you require counsel. Carrying the concerns of a whole village is no easy task, and I am more than happy to listen." I couldn't help but smile at his offer. "How long will you you be staying?"

"Only as long as it takes to meet with your king. Assuming all goes well and that he is able to see me today, I expect I shall be leaving tomorrow morning," I answered, and at the disappointment in his expression, I laid my hands on Elrond's shoulders. "I am truly sorry, mellon-nín. My next visit will be longer, I promise."

He sighed and covered my wrists with his large, warm hands.

"I trust it will not be two more years before you call here again?"

I shook my head wanting to rid him of his sadness.

"Only a few weeks, I should think. A month, at most," I assured him, and he gave a reluctant smile.

"Very well, I am appeased. For now." A mischievous smile stretched his lips. "If, however, you do not keep to your word, I shall ask Gil-Galad to send his guards to fetch you. And I should like to have breakfast with you upon the morrow."

"Assuming you can handle the sight of me first thing in the morning, I agree to your terms," I teased, and he drew me into his arms once more. "I truly am sorry that it has been so long, my friend. Oh, Valar, I have missed you."

"'Tis no matter. You are here now." Dismissing my concerns with a wave of his hand, Elrond escorted me around the palace, pointing out things he believed would interest me. Gorgeous sculptures and tapestries accented the already lavish palace.

After our brief tour, he showed me to the rather opulent room I'd been given for the night and excused himself to set up my audience with the High King. I took the chance to tidy myself up as much as I was able. It would not do to face King Gil-Galad looking as exhausted as I felt from my journey.

Mere hours later, when Elrond led me to the High King, I fought hard not to gasp in awe at how beautiful the locale was. Rays of light spread from the setting sun, trickling through a canopy of golden leaves. Upon a large, slanted plane of land stood an enormous tree, ancient and strong with roots that delved deep into the nearby soil. It's own leaves were larger than the rest.

So enveloped was I in the breathtaking beauty of my surroundings that, in truth, I did not see him at first. There, beside that beautiful, ancient tree was a tall Ellon - one of the Noldor, if I trusted my memory of what Elrond had taught me - wrapped in silk robes the same glorious shade as the foliage above him. In his lustrous black hair was a golden crown that resembled tall, proud leaves wrapping around the back of his head.

"My king, I present to you a representative from the village of men just south of our borders, a dear friend of mine," Elrond called introducing me by name, and as the Ellon turned, I froze. He was magnificence embodied.

High King Gil-Galad's eyes stole the breath from my lungs. They were curious, intrigued, and so incredibly warm despite their depth of color. His lips, so soft and perfect, parted when he caught sight of the mortal in his court. After a breathless beat, I dropped into the lowest curtsy I could manage, just barely able to tear my eyes away from him.

Elrond hadn't warned me that his king was so striking that he was practically ethereal!

"Welcome, my lady, to Lindon." Oh, Valar, even his voice was gorgeous! When he spoke, his words were low and as silken as his robes, stirring the already quite active swarm of butterflies in my stomach into a frenzy. "Not often does my herald endorse a person's character so fully. I am pleased to have such an upstanding guest grace my court."

"Thank you, your grace," I murmured, hating how shaky my own voice was in comparison. Elrond bowed and excused himself so that we could speak privately, and I straightened out of my curtsy, hoping that by doing so I wasn't causing any sort of offense. When I looked up again, the High King was several steps closer than he had been. How did the Eldar move so silently? "I can only apologize for arriving without any prior warning. Truly, I intended no slight–"

He stopped the flow of words from my lips with a single raised hand.

"No apologies are necessary, I assure you, my lady." The small, gentle smile that tugged at his lips sent my heart skittering in my chest. "Elrond has told me that your people's need is urgent. How may I be of assistance?"

Taking a steadying breath, I nodded my head.

"Your grace, our village has been self-sufficient for almost as long as we have existed. We have been quite proud of that fact, however, our pride must, in future, bow to other needs," I began. "The field where our medicinal herbs grow - the ones for our poultices, tinctures, and remedies - was struck by a blight earlier this year. Barring an emergency, we have enough to last until the leaves turn, but once the cold months arrive, I fear we shall be rather desperate."

The High King tilted his head slightly to the side.

"If your need is that great, what of the village just to your east? They are closer, by far. Can they not assist you?"

Just barely resisting the urge to look away at his rightfully suspicious question, I rallied my courage.

"No, your grace. Our village cut ties with theirs when they sided with Sauron during the last war. We would much rather establish ties with Lindon than with those who consort with darkness." Hoping against hope that the Elven king would see fit to at least listen to my proposal, I lifted my small bag from where it rested at my hip. "We are prepared to negotiate fairly for the supplies we need. The elders of our village were not certain what your people might ask from us in return, but I have with me several samples of our craftsmanship and the authority with which to establish such a trade."

Gil-Galad walked smoothly, serenely over to me and offered his arm just as Elrond had.

"Come, my lady. My study would be a much more comfortable place for lengthy discussions of business. Let us speak of this there," he said, and as I accepted and grasped his arm, I thought for a single, delirious moment that his eyes had dipped down to my lips. He walked with the unparalleled grace of his people. His steps were as soundless as clouds, but he ensured that his stride did not exceed my own.

And his scent! I knew not whether he was wearing perfumed oils, but I was close enough to him in those few moments to be enveloped by something herbal and soothing. When we reached his study, I regretted having to release my hold on him.

The room itself was larger than the average study, perhaps, but less grandiose than I would have expected from royalty. There were still bits of gold gilt around the window frames and dotted across various bits of decor, but here it seemed that wood was the ruling design choice. Warm hues on the walls and plush chairs unified the overall atmosphere of the room, coaxing away some of my tension. In the light of the setting sun, the room with all its books and cozy nooks in which one could read made me want to do just that for the rest of my days.

"Please, be seated. Make yourself comfortable," Gil-Galad said, and I thanked him quietly as I perched on the edge of the divan closest to me. The High King removed his outer robe, draping it over the back of an armchair. He spared me a glance as he did so, undoubtedly taking in my stiff posture. "Are you uneasy, my lady?"

Embarrassment dried my mouth so that I was forced to swallow as I looked away from him.

"I mean no offense, your grace, but...I must admit that I am a bit nervous," I admitted, fiddling with one of my sleeves. "I have never spoken with a king before today. I do not wish to make a fool of myself or unintentionally cause you insult."

After a moment's silence, soft, near-silent footsteps approached the bookshelf beside the king's desk.

"Then, perhaps the most pragmatic solution would be for you to think of me as Ereinion only, and no longer consider my title," he murmured with a sly smile. Before I could ask what he meant, he removed the glimmering crown from his head and laid it aside on his bookshelf. Spreading his arms wide, he lifted his eyebrows as if to ask my opinion.

"Much less intimidating." At my praise, he moved to sit beside me on the divan. His thigh just barely brushed against mine, and I hoped that I was not blushing quite as obviously as I felt that I was.

"To business, then," he said, and I carefully emptied my little bag, laying each item carefully upon the small table before us.

"We have a few leatherworkers who are quite skilled at their craft. Our bladesmith cannot possibly match the craftsmanship of your own smiths, but he is the best among men that I have yet seen..."

Showing the king each item in turn - a hand-tooled leather sheath, a jeweled dagger, and many other examples of what our people were capable of producing - I answered as many of his questions as I possibly could. The final item I extracted from my bag was a small wooden statue of a bird in flight. At the sight, Gil-Galad's eyes practically sparkled with interest, and I felt my breath hitch in my chest as he very gently took it from my hands.

"This is exquisite. I had no idea your village produced artists." He sounded amazed as he inspected it curiously. The High King held it as if he was afraid it might shatter in his grasp. "We, of course, have our own artists, but this...I particularly enjoy the style. It is entirely different when compared with our own endeavors."

"Ah, well, thank you. The elders did not believe..." I took a steadying breath and tried again, but he seemed not to notice my stammering. "That is to say, woodwork is just a hobby of mine. I wasn't sure if my skills were worthy of offering as part of the trade, but in any case, I wanted to offer you at least some small token of my gratitude for taking the time to listen to our needs."

The High King looked at me curiously.

"You made this for me, my lady?" I nodded my head, and the look he gave me was one so soft and appreciative that I couldn't bring myself to feel guilty for not having disclosed my intent to do so to the council of elders. "You have my sincerest gratitude. Such a gesture was not necessary, I assure you, but I appreciate your efforts, truly. This shall rest in a place of honor."

Walking swiftly to his desk, he removed a bauble of some sort from a small stand at its corner. In its place, he set the little bird I'd made, relocating the other item to his bookshelf.

"My lady, concerning your current dilemma, I wish to make this trade as painless as possible for your people. You are already being forced to make a significant change by depending upon others for your medical needs. To that end, have you any athelas in your village?" Gil-Galad asked as he turned to face me once more.

"Athelas?"

"You might know it as kingsfoil. It is, by many, considered a weed, but my people have found ways to utilize it. It does not grow in sufficient quantities here, however."

"Oh! Yes, it grows in several fields across our village. In fact, the hill behind my home is covered with it. We have no use for the plant, but the little flowers it produces can be quite pretty."

"In that case, I have a counter-proposal. In exchange for half of the athelas plants that grow in your village, we would happily provide the medical supplies you require." I blinked in surprise. That was so much easier than I had anticipated. "Would that be agreeable?"

"Y-Yes. Oh, yes, your grace, but I cannot help feeling as though your people would be shafted by such an agreement," I protested as he resumed his seat beside me. Surely he wanted more than just a field of weeds?

With a small smile, the king lifted one of my hands between both of his.

"Your concern is admirable and refreshingly honest, my lady. Very well, I shall amend my terms thus: you shall have your supplies in exchange for the aforementioned quantity of athelas and a series of your gorgeous carvings." He looked thoroughly pleased with his own suggestion even as I was thoroughly stunned.

"I am quite certain the council of elders would be more than content with such an arrangement, but are you certain that is fair compensation for your people?"

"Absolutely, my lady. Do you accept?" I nodded my head mutely, and he placed a soft kiss atop the back of my hand. "Excellent. I shall have the terms drawn up in the morning. Assuming you wish more time with my herald, a messenger will be sent back to your village with the terms of our agreement so that you need not hasten home immediately. Lindon's hospitality, accommodation, and protection are yours for as long as you desire it."

I'd thought that once our negotiation was complete, the king would dismiss me so that he could return to his duties or pleasures. Instead, however, he struck up conversation. Asking about our village, its people, and even about me. In turn, he indulged my curiosity about Lindon, going so far as to offer me a personal tour when I inevitably returned to make those carvings for him.

Eventually, we both realized that the sun had set. We'd been talking for several hours. I apologized profusely for taking up so much of his time, but he merely waved me off and said that it had been his privilege. I couldn't find the courage to say so, but the privilege had been mine. Speaking with a courteous, charming Ellon in close quarters for such an extended period of time was more than a person of my station could ever deserve.

"Perhaps, as a final courtesy, my lady, you would allow a small, unofficial addition to our agreement: have your evening meal with me upon the morrow," the High King said as we paused by the door of his study. He lifted my hands to his lips, pressing a featherlight kiss onto my knuckles without breaking eye contact. My heart thudded rapidly in my chest.

"I-I would be honored, your grace."

The smile he gave me in return made my knees go weak, yet somehow I managed to curtsy politely and wish him a good night. His gaze followed me to the end of the hallway, fading only when I turned the corner.

I found Elrond quite by accident in a hall not far from the king's chambers. Smiling widely when he saw me, he closed the little book he'd been reading by the light of the brazier near his bench.

"Ah, there you are, mellon. I'd begun to wonder if you would ever emerge," he said offering me his hand. I took it and sat beside him on the little cushioned seat.

I lifted my eyebrows.

"You never told me that the High King of Lindon was like that," I muttered, and he blinked in confusion before glancing down at my hands.

"You're shaking. Were his negotiations harsh?" Bless him, he sounded concerned for me, but I just shook my head as he grasped my fingers.

"No, we came to an agreement in just a few minutes."

"But...?" Perplexed, he gave my fingers a small squeeze. "Hours have passed. Forgive me, mellon-nín, but I don't understand."

"Afterwards, we talked and lost track of time. He...I..." I struggled in an attempt to find the right words to say, but the sentiment that escaped me was entirely inadequate to describe the pounding of my heart when Gil-Galad had looked at me. "I have never met anyone like him."

After a moment's pause, Elrond smiled widely enough that I was quite certain he'd understood even that which I had not dared to voice.

"I thought you both seemed rather frozen when I introduced you. Was it his eyes that captured your interest first?" His question was mischievous and playful, a perfect match for the twinkle in his eye. "Maybe his dark, silken hair? Or perhaps his regal figure?"

At his teasing, I let out a helpless laugh and dropped my forehead onto his shoulder. The herald's arms wrapped around me, and his own warm laughter melted gently with my own. We sat quietly for some time before he spoke again.

"I am so pleased for you, my dear friend. You and Gil-Galad are well-suited," Elrond murmured, but as my mood sobered, I let out a small sigh and leaned back far enough to look at him.

"I'm mortal, in case you've forgotten. A mortal peasant would never have a chance with an Elven king. Certainly, if the beauty of your kind has not caught his eye in all this time, I never could. More likely, he is entertained by the novelty of my presence in Lindon. I am no more than a fish out of water here."

Elrond looked at me with disappointment lingering in his eyes.

"If that truly was the case, mellon, he would not have spent so much time with you. If, as you believe, he had no interest, he would have had you escorted to your chambers as soon as your business was concluded." His hands rested upon my shoulders and he looked into my eyes. "I do wish that you would not deny yourself the kindness you give so freely to others. You are just as deserving of it."

When I finally retired to bed in my temporary chambers, Elrond had managed to bolster my spirits just enough for my dreams to be filled with golden leaves, flowing dark hair, and soft lips against mine.

--

In the morning, I found my friend at my door. We walked through the halls and out into the beautiful morning sunlight. Dew glittered upon the windowpanes, sparkling as we passed.

"Perhaps after I show you a bit more of Lindon, we could share our evening meal. I could tell you more about your future suitor, if you like?" I gave him a gentle shove that, frustratingly, moved him not one step out of alignment from his path. "What?"

"'Tis cruel to tease me about events which will never occur," I muttered feigning insult. "Besides, I...already agreed to a dinner invitation tonight and will be quite unavailable."

Elrond looked at me sharply.

"Oh? Who has beaten me?" He sounded utterly perplexed.

"...The High King of Lindon," I answered quietly, and Elrond tugged me gently to a stop, turning me to face him.

"You did not tell me that he invited you to dine with him!"

"It was part of the trade agreement...sort of," I hedged, trying to mask my excitement and nerves beneath the mere facts.

"Requested by you or by him?"

I paused and glanced away.

"By the king." My voice was barely more than a whisper, but triumph was still visible in Elrond's gleeful smile.

"You see? He must like you enormously for him to make such a request. Mellon-nín, Gil-Galad dines alone unless absolutely necessary. Even I am only seldom asked to join him, and I am his herald." Elrond grasped my shoulders lightly. "He has provided for your stay here, he has sent a messenger to your village so that you need not return immediately, he has invited you to dinner, he even spent several hours speaking to you when I am quite certain he had other duties upon which he could have expended his effort..."

When he put it that way, the glimmer of hope that Elrond had inspired within me the night before bubbled up my throat once more and tugged my lips into a tentative smile.

"Still, I expect it was just a diplomatic courtesy," I hedged, and Elrond rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

"Oh, for the love of the Valar," he muttered looping his arm with mine again. "Come, let us begin our day before you try to convince me that he secretly despises you - which, before you get any ideas, is an utter impossibility."

According to Elrond, Lindon had many markets, and when we came upon the one nearest the palace, I felt as though I'd stepped into a far off land. Ornate, sophisticated stalls were everywhere, laden with jewels and fine blades, shimmering fabric and rich clothing. Guards stood between each, but their presence didn't seem to be necessary. Every single Ellon and Elleth I saw was on their best behavior, exchanging coin and trading goods fairly and without conflict.

Just as my friend had begun to lead me through the veritable maze of vendors, one of the guards approached us, calling my name.

"Forgive my interruption, my lady, my lord Herald, but I come with a message from High King Gil-Galad," she said looking between myself and Elrond. "For the duration of your stay, if there is anything you need or desire, the king shall see it done. Thus, should anything from the market catch your eye, not a coin shall you exchange. All vendors shall be compensated by the crown, and each has been notified as such."

My jaw dropped.

"I-I...That is very kind of His Majesty, but truly, I could not possibly..." I trailed off looking helplessly at Elrond, only to find him smiling rather smugly down at me.

"We none of us can defy an order from our High King," he said, and in the absence of any more coherent words, I looked between him and the guard and thanked her quietly. She gave us both a bow and resumed her post beside a stall specializing in horse-riding accoutrements. Leather saddles and bridles that looked as though they belonged in the High King's own stables adorned nearly every bit of free space, and behind the counter, the vendor was shaping a bit of leather that looked like a stirrup. "Are you alright?"

I looked at my friend with shock undoubtedly still coloring my expression.

"Why would...he...?" I stammered a bit, and Elrond lifted his eyebrows.

"You know very well why. Now, let us go find something to eat that will sustain us for your tour - courtesy of your suitor, of course," he teased, pulling me gently through the crowd. I would seriously need to speak with the High King when we met later that evening.

After a bit of wandering, we found ourselves nibbling on honey glazed buns from one of Elrond's favorite bakers. I had tried to convince the Ellon in question to allow me to pay for our breakfast, but with a gentle smile he dismissed my offer, citing the desire not to incur his king's frustration. Entirely understandable, but my conscience demanded that I at least make the attempt.

"I do not mean to speak out of turn," Elrond began after a bit, "but perhaps we ought to obtain a new pair of boots for you. After all, are yours not currently being held together by sheer luck?"

Of course he'd noticed that the soles were beginning to detach from the heels...and that I'd attempted to further prolong their lifespan with some slightly less than artistic twine.

"Absolutely not," I answered, and his brow furrowed.

"Why? You needn't cover the cost yourself. The king–"

"That's precisely why I can't. He's already been much kinder to me than my station warrants. I could not possibly, in good conscience, allow him to cover the cost of something I ought to have replaced myself nearly a year ago," I explained, but Elrond gave me a stern look.

"And what am I to tell him when he asks why you bought next to nothing in one of our finest markets? How do you believe he will react when I tell him that you desperately need a new pair of boots and you did not feel as though you could purchase them here?" He asked looking at me rather pointedly. "I am quite familiar with Gil-Galad. He would send Lindon's finest cobbler - the one he himself favors - to your village and have boots made in every possible variety that you might enjoy. No, my friend, it is better to simply purchase a single pair now, lest you nudge our High King inadvertently toward a much more extravagant purchase."

I was silent for a long moment, trying to determine whether he was bluffing.

He wasn't.

"Fine, but I don't intend to tax his coffers beyond a simple, sturdy pair of boots," I stipulated, but my friend gave me an incredulous look.

"Mellon-nín, have you seen our king's wardrobe? A dozen pairs of the most extravagant boots would not even begin to tax his pockets," he reassured me as he led us toward a stall laden with fine footwear. A few moments later, we left with a purchase slip in hand and a delivery scheduled for that evening. I'd tried to keep the cost low, but the cobbler simply lifted his eyebrows and told me not to worry myself over it.

That was not a particularly reassuring statement when I was actively trying not to become further indebted to the High King. In hindsight, I should have known that Gil-Galad was not burdened with such concerns. After wandering the market for a while, Elrond tugged me over to a merchant who was selling beautifully-crafted jewelry, far beyond even the finest quality I'd ever before seen.

As we perused his wares - Elrond searching for a congratulatory gift for Commander Galadriel's return, and I simply amazed by the splendor laid before me - a thin, delicate necklace caught my eye. The pale, white gold chain was strung through a pendant of the clearest sapphire I'd ever seen. Knowing that smaller chains were more difficult to forge, I was terrified to ask the price.

"Have you found something you desire, my lady?" The jeweler asked. Startled that I'd been observed, I plastered a smile on my face. The last thing I needed was for something this expensive to be charged to the palace. What would the High King think?

"Oh, um, nothing in particular," I hedged, "but your work is splendid."

The Ellon gave me a gracious smile.

"Thank you, my lady, however many of the pieces in this collection were made in Eregion," he explained moving closer and pointing out a few pieces in particular. "I am responsible for a few bracelets, cloak pins, and rings only. The necklace you were glancing at was actually made by Lord Celebrimbor."

"The Celebrimbor?" I could've slapped myself for blurting something so obvious. The merchant merely nodded his head indulgently.

"Indeed, my lady. Lord Celebrimbor and our High King are close friends. It is only because of that friendship that I am allowed to present his creations here," he stated before another customer inquired about the price of an emerald cloak pin. With a final glance at the dainty little necklace forged by the Greatest of the Elven Smiths, I turned to Elrond.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" I asked, and my friend gleefully nodded his head, stowing a velvet drawstring bag in the little satchel at his side. Looping my arm through his once more so that I would not be lost in the throng of Elves swirling through the market, we continued on.

By the time he returned me to my chambers to prepare for dinner, Elrond had shown me many beautiful places throughout the city, including a gorgeous wooded area which housed his favorite tree. Apparently, he'd composed many speeches for the king there amidst its branches. As the sunlight streamed in and caressed our faces, I could easily see why he enjoyed it so much.

I froze when I opened my door, however, and Elrond looked at me curiously.

"What is it, mellon-nín?" He asked, but when he followed my gaze to the box atop the bed, he urged me inside with a smirk. The note lying atop it was closed with the High King's seal. "Shall I read it to you?"

"If you wish." Ceding the note to his eager grasp, I began working on the knotted ribbons holding the box shut. The herald cleared his throat and began reading aloud.

"'My lady: I hope you will forgive the whim of an overeager host. I thought you might like to experience the gentle caress of the creations made by Lindon's finest tailors. On my honor, no offense will be taken should you choose not to indulge my impulsiveness. No matter your decision, I look forward to your company this evening,'" Elrond smiled widely as he read. "'My fondest regards and with great anticipation, Ereinion.' He's already signing his letters so informally? He truly does like you, mellon. Now, what did he send you?"

Removing the lid, I gasped at the gown that lay within. As deep in hue as young, unaged, purple wine, embroidered around the hem with silver roses, and adorned with glittering white gems, the garment was finer than any I had yet seen. As there had been no fitting, the dress had a series of wraps and ties that both served to secure it and added to the overall design.

Gil-Galad wanted me to have this?

"Shall I fetch a handmaid to help, or would you be comfortable with my assistance, mellon?" Elrond asked dragging me out of my stunned silence.

"You would help me?"

"Of course! What sort of a friend would I be if I did not help you prepare for your courtship with the High King?"

--

I found Gil-Galad in his formal dining hall, wearing dark, luxuriantly soft robes that were the same hue as the dress he'd gifted me. The sleeves were adorned with little silver embellishments and roses. The inherent sentimentality of the gesture stirred traitorous hope deep in my heart. I was certainly reading too much into his actions.

"My lady, I am honored that you have indulged my last-minute whim." Who would not humor him when his eyes sparkled so brightly in the candlelight? Why would I ever wish to deny him when he smiled so joyfully at having received a favorable response? I'd wear the most ridiculous of garments if only to encourage him to smile at me like that for even a mere moment longer.

"The honor is entirely mine, your grace," I murmured, but with a huff of laughter, he gave me a mock-stern, teasing glare.

"Now, now. 'Ereinion' only. Please, my lady." It was then that I noticed a distinct lack of a crown upon his head. Without it, he somehow managed to appear both relaxed and resplendent, as if he would be equally comfortable upon his throne or curled up beside a fireplace reading a book into the wee hours of the morning. He was awe-inspiring for a mortal like myself, yet he behaved as though was no more than an Ellon having dinner with a new friend.

Sated only by my acquiescence to his request, Ereinion held out my chair for me like a gentleman. What truly surprised me, though, was his dismissal of his retainers and his insistence upon serving me himself.

How many mortals could claim that the High King had served them dinner personally? By all rights, our roles should've been reversed, but Ereinion wouldn't hear of me lifting a finger. He was so swift and delicate with his movements that once he'd engaged me in conversation, I hardly noticed them. I did, of course, because it was still incredibly strange to see a king serving a commoner.

As the evening progressed, I found myself increasingly at ease, despite being in the company of royalty. Discussion flowed effortlessly between us. Pride swirled within me every time I was able to make him laugh, but there was something more I needed to express.

"Ereinion?"

"Yes, gil-nín?" I hesitated, tilting my head, but he only smiled at my obvious curiosity. I'd have to find out what that meant from Elrond, then.

"I wish to thank you for your kindness and generosity," I began, and I hoped that he knew I was referring to everything, not just dinner. "You did not need to go to such trouble over me, but I am incredibly grateful for your efforts."

He waved one hand dismissively.

"It is my pleasure, my lady. Your presence here brings me great joy, and I simply wished to share that feeling with you," he stated simply, and my cheeks heated at the sincerity in his gaze. How in the world did his smile summon such heat? I looked away with a small grin of my own before continuing.

"Ereinion, I–"

The door to the dining room slammed open, startling both of us, and a fierce blonde Elleth in silver armor and muddied boots strode up to the table without so much as a bow to her king. Elrond was hot on her heels, regret written plainly across his features.

"What is the meaning of this?" The High King demanded, authority dripping from his countenance as he laid his napkin aside and got to his feet.

"We must speak. Now," the Elleth stated in a tone which brooked no argument. Who would dare speak to a king in such a manner? As courteous as Ereinion was, I knew he could not have deserved such treatment.

"Our discussion ended this afternoon, Commander," Ereinion began, "and, as you can see, I am in the middle of dinner–"

"Is food so important that you would ignore the counsel of one of your military advisors?" She demanded, and I realized that this would likely not end quickly.

In the charged pause between the two, I laid my napkin aside.

"Perhaps I ought to take my leave, so that you two can continue in peace," I suggested, but as the High King opened his mouth, the Elleth spoke over him.

"Then go," she bit out not sparing me a glance, and I got wordlessly to my feet. Ereinion broke his staring match with the Commander and hurried to intercept me before I could reach the door.

"I am so sorry for this interruption, my lady. You needn't leave if you do not wish to," he murmured, but I just shook my head.

"No, no. It's alright. You are the High King. Your people need you. I cannot expect to monopolize your time," I demurred, and a flash of disappointment crossed his face. "Thank you for your kindness and hospitality, your grace. I have enjoyed every moment."

"As have I, my lady," he replied leaving a gentle kiss upon my knuckles before finally allowing me to slip out the door with Elrond. Had it been my imagination or was there more that he'd wished to say?

I barely processed my friend grasping my upper arm to steer me down the right corridors.

"Mellon-nín, I am so sorry. I tried to stop her, to delay her - anything - but she would not be dissuaded. Commander Galadriel is...determined, once her mind is set upon a particular course of action." He sounded remorseful as we walked through the flickering torchlight.

"It's alright," I answered shaking my head. "Truly, I...Her interruption was fortunate. I was beginning to think above my station. 'Tis dangerous and unwise for one in my position to do so."

We'd reached the door to my temporary chambers by then, and I'd made up my mind. Grasping Elrond's hands in my own, I gave him what I hoped was a steady, warm smile despite his own crestfallen expression.

"In the morning, I shall return home," I murmured, and when his face fell even further, I pressed a soft kiss onto his forehead. "Do not worry. I will return in a short number of weeks as I promised. Until then, I must ask a small favor of you."

"You know that you need only name it, mellon-nín, especially after tonight."

"This gown is lovely, but it's much too fine for me to take home with me. I would have no opportunity to wear it in my village," I explained. "When I return to fulfill my end of the trade agreement, however, the need might arise for me to wear it again, and I do not wish to risk damaging it in transit..."

He nodded his head in comprehension.

"You have my word that I shall keep it safe for you, but," he paused and gave my fingers a gentle squeeze, "are you certain that you do not wish to stay a few days more?"

The longer we talked, the closer to shedding tears I became. With a rueful smile, I shook my head.

"It is better that I leave before all the beauty and tranquility makes me wish for a different life than I am meant to lead," I said. "Besides, my cousin is in charge of my shop, and I promised she would not need to be responsible for it for too long."

Elrond rested his forehead against mine.

"I shall escort you to the gate in the morning and see you on your way," he promised quietly, and after a short pause, he continued. "You can have any life you wish. The only one who can limit your potential is you."

As I lay down to sleep that night, I could only hope he was right.

--

Just as I finished repacking my small bag, a knock sounded at my door.

"Come in, mellon," I called over my shoulder assuming it was Elrond, but when I turned, I found the High King standing in my doorway instead, in all his splendor. The light of the early morning sun bathed him in a gentle glow, making my breath hitch in my throat. "Oh! Good morning, Ereinion."

"Good morning, my lady. Forgive my intrusion, but I was told you were an early riser..." he trailed off as he caught sight of my packed bag and the riding leathers I was wearing. His sheepish smile fell, somewhat. "I...came to apologize for the abrupt end to our evening last night, but, if my eyes do not deceive me, you are already prepared to depart. Am I too late to salvage your opinion on the courtesy of my people?"

Catching one of his hands in mine, I smiled up at him.

"I promise you, no salvaging is required. My good opinion of your people is already etched indelibly in my heart. You have been nothing but kind and generous and welcoming," I assured him, and the relief that crossed his features was practically palpable. His free hand covered mine as he took a small step closer. "My return home is simply to relieve my cousin. She agreed to man my shop while I was away, but I didn't intend to be gone this long."

It was only half of the truth, but I couldn't very well admit all of it, could I? The king would likely be offended at the prospect of some lowly mortal thinking herself equal to him, even if only for a moment, simply because she'd been invited to dine with him.

"In that case, would it be safe for me to assume that you will not be burdened with dread prior to our next meeting?" I couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled out of me.

"I do not think it would be possible to dread seeing you, Ereinion." The admission was one I ought not to have made, but the look that the High King gave me made it feel worth any embarrassment I might've felt.

A second knock sounded upon my door, and when Elrond's fluffy head peeked around the doorframe, his eyes went wide at the sight of us standing so close together.

"My sincerest apologies–"

"Peace, Herald Elrond," Gil-Galad murmured, "I assume you are here to escort my lady to the gates?"

At the affirmative answer he received, the king smiled down at me.

"It appears, my lady, that you have two Ellons to ensure your safe passage."

The walk to the gate where my saddled horse stood was filled with a gentle, companionable sort of quiet. My hand grasped Gil-Galad's arm and Elrond strode beside us with my bag slung gracefully over one shoulder.

Before I could mount my steed, Gil-Galad caught my hand in his.

"May the Valar speed your travels and keep you safe upon the road," he said giving me a warm smile. A second horse trotted up beside mine with an Elven soldier in full armor astride its back. "I am sending one of my guards with you. I know the journey is not a terribly long one, but I would see you arrive safely home."

Indeed, I was home less than a full day later, but the entire way there, all I could think of was a warm smile, gentle eyes, and soft lips upon the back of my hand. We passed the first cart transporting athelas from my village to Lindon just as we arrived at the edge of the outermost field. My guard saluted me and joined his fellows on their way back, presumably to help protect them.

My home seemed smaller when I stepped across the threshold. The wooden walls felt a bit confining compared to the palace, but that was to be expected. After all, what is a house made by mortals compared to an Elven king's palace?

--

"You wished to see me, aran-nín?" Elrond approached his king who stood beneath the Great Tree, watching the sun sinking slowly below the horizon in a pinkish haze.

"Your mortal friend..." he began in a low, thoughtful tone. "Does she...? Do you know if her heart remains her own or if it belongs to another?"

The Peredhel smiled to himself.

"It is still hers alone, my king," he answered simply, and the relieved sigh and long pause that followed spoke volumes.

"During her brief stay here, did she imply any possibility of that changing in the near future?" If that was the king's attempt at subtlety, then he'd been struck harder by her than Elrond had previously thought.

"She did mention one Ellon in particular who had made a favorable impression on her," Elrond said, and Gil-Galad practically wilted beside him until he gave voice to the rest of his thought, "I believe he asked her to call him 'Ereinion' on more than one occasion."

The High King perked up then froze as he looked at his herald.

"If I find that you are speaking falsehoods, Elrond Peredhel–"

The herald held his hands up in surrender.

"I would not dream of doing something so cruel, much less where matters of the heart are concerned," he swore, and the king's shoulders sagged in relief. "I might tease you very gently, but never would I instill false hope. That would be positively barbaric."

The king glanced at Elrond out of the corner of his eye, pulling a huff of laughter from the latter.

"You truly like her, then?"

Ereinion nodded his head silently as the pink sky turned purple.

"She has been gone mere hours and already I..." Gil-Galad trailed off gesturing vaguely with his hands, and Elrond was pleased. His friend had nothing to fear if this was how her soon-to-be-suitor reacted to her temporary departure. He was more than willing to give them a subtle nudge in the right direction, but he didn't anticipate the need to do so - not when the High King was sighing wistfully mere hours into her short absence.

--

My second trip to Lindon three and a half weeks later saw me in a small, horse-drawn cart laden with baskets full of athelas and driven by a pair of the High King's guards. Gil-Galad had sent word with them that if I desired, I could accompany them back to Lindon - for pleasure, to honor my part in the bargain I'd struck, or both.

I longed to get away from the wagging tongues in my village claiming that I'd intentionally tricked the High King into giving us what we needed in exchange for some worthless weeds. I practically threw my clothes and carving tools into a bag when the opportunity presented itself.

Once we were through the gate, one of the guards stationed there waved our cart to a halt, and as I clambered down from my seat, he gave me a low bow.

"I bring greetings from High King Gil-Galad and bid you welcome. Your cargo shall be attended to, and I shall escort you to your chambers," he said with a small smile. "If you would come with me, my lady?"

I took his proffered arm, and with that, I was whisked away to the same set of chambers I'd occupied the last time I was in Lindon. The guard bade me a pleasant stay and went to alert the High King that I had arrived.

The chambers themselves were practically untouched, with two notable exceptions: the bed had been made with a different color of linens - a pale, shimmering gold instead of cream - and there was a note upon the bookshelf. Sealed with wax and written on the highest quality parchment lay a letter written by my host requesting that I meet with him as soon as I felt sufficiently settled in and rested after my travels.

Truthfully, however, rest wasn't necessary. Being here in Lindon had already rejuvenated me, restoring my energy and inciting a flutter of anticipation within my heart.

Beside the note in a crystal vase was a mixed bouquet of pink, white, and red roses. Large and fragrant, they filled the whole room with their scent, making me wish that their like grew near our village.

A fresh wave of excitement thrummed through my veins. It was more than likely that the king simply wanted to know that the final cartload of athelas had made it here unscathed, but in truth, I was looking forward to seeing Ereinion again - would I still be allowed to call him that? After all, it was quite a liberty, but his presence was comforting, and his voice...

I was doomed. My poor heart was destined to be shattered by the most beautiful Ellon who had ever walked Middle-Earth.

Mustering all my courage and trying to tamp down my excitement, I made myself as presentable as a mortal could be and started toward the king's study to face my fate.

The guard outside waved me in, telling me that I was expected, and when I entered, there he stood gazing out the window in all his splendor, as radiant as the midday sun that shone upon him. His golden halo of a crown lay discarded on his desk, complemented by a reddish-brown cape draped artfully over one shoulder. The length of dark cloth was pinned in place by abstract golden shapes which resembled feathers or perhaps leaves from a distance.

"You wished to see me, your grace?" He turned at the sound of my voice, and a wide, warm smile stretched his lips.

"Indeed, híril vuin, but I thought I asked you to call me Ereinion." His voice was just as deliciously smooth as I remembered despite his playful tone. With unparalleled grace, he moved toward me and dropped into a low bow that I answered with a curtsy. "Forgive me for the summons, but I simply could not deny myself of your presence any longer than was absolutely necessary."

"There is nothing to forgive, I assure you." With a rustling of fabric, he gestured for me to have a seat beside him on the divan we'd occupied for so many hours during my first visit. "I was honored to receive your invitation to return. Lindon is a lovely place, and with such a charming host, I find that I am looking forward to fulfilling my end of our bargain. I did pack all of my tools."

"Ah, if you desire to begin, we can, of course, discuss the particulars," the High King offered. "And, obviously, we will provide the wood necessary per your specifications. As for the works themselves, what did you have in mind?"

I'd no idea that the High King was willing to give me such freedom with this project.

"I suppose that depends upon what you want this set to achieve." At his curious look, I expounded. "If there is a particular subject you wish me to capture, or a specific emotional response you wish my pieces to evoke..."

"Ah, I see," he murmured glancing at his bookshelf for a moment. "I wonder, would it be too ambitious to set thoughtfulness or introspection as a goal?"

"Certainly not. I believe that is entirely plausible."

For the next hour, we sat bounced ideas off of one another until we'd settled rather excitedly upon the idea of a series of five pieces centered around the unity of his people and mine. Two would be symbols of our individuality - something that represented the Elves, and something that represented Humans. Two would consist of likenesses - each a prominent figure from our races. And the final piece would be the most ambitious of them all: a scene involving both Humans and Elves. We decided, however, that the scene itself should be decided upon as the project progressed. There was no rush, and we both wanted it to be just right.

Afterwards, however, we lost ourselves to conversation as we had done only weeks before. The sun traversed its long path through the sky until a distinctive evening shadow began to caress our surroundings. The golden glow created a halo around my host's visage, making him look even more ethereal than usual.

I'd just caught myself with a silly, lovesick grin on my face when a knock sounded. The polished, very solid wooden door opened to reveal Elrond with a scroll and quill in his ink-dotted hand.

"Forgive me, aran-nín, but I think I have finally found the right words for th–" He broke off when he looked up and found me seated beside his liege-lord on the divan near the hearth. "Mellon-nín? When did you get here? Why was I not informed?"

The latter question the herald aimed at his king, while he wasted no time in crossing the room to gather me up in a tight hug, paper and quill forgotten upon a small table to the side.

"I fear that was my doing," Ereinion stated, "for I summoned her to my side almost as soon as she'd set foot within the gate."

Elrond pulled back just far enough to look at me with a knowing glint in his eyes.

"I see. You must have had urgent matters of state to discuss, then?" He asked in a distinctly teasing tone, and though heat poured into my cheeks, I lifted my chin slightly.

"Indeed. We were discussing my part of the trade agreement just before you came in," I answered. We had finished that discussion much earlier than I'd implied, but what Ereinion conversed about in private was our business...especially when admitting it would only serve to make my friend smug.

Besides, I did not want Elrond getting his hopes up where none existed. The High King would never look at me the way I did him - Valar, I was lucky that he was pursuing a friendship with me, even if it was only for the sake of maintaining diplomatic relations between our people.

Elrond lifted an eyebrow as if he had not believed a word that I'd said. His expression practically screamed that I would not escape his curiosity for long.

"Now, I'm quite certain you had a reason for coming to see your king, so I shall take up his time no longer," I stated taking a step back from my friend. Ereinion got to his feet and caught my hands in barely a blink.

"You needn't leave, my lady, truly," he began, but I shook my head quietly.

"From what I understand, I believe Elrond has something important to discuss with you, and I really ought to be unpacking if I am to make my preparations on the morrow." It could have been a trick of the light, but I could have sworn that a flicker of disappointment passed over his features before a warm, understanding smile settled across his lips.

"In that case, gil-nín, I shall reluctantly let you go, but should you want or need anything at all, you need only alert one of the guards or the palace staff," the High King explained, and I thanked him before curtsying and taking my leave.

--

Through the High King's kindness and generosity, I was afforded a workspace that defied its name, appearing more like a leisure room than anything else. The chamber had a generously-sized table upon which to work, but it also contained a plush rest area for those moments when I required a respite. In addition, a pair of glass doors opened onto a sunlit balcony overlooking the lush forest. I could easily imagine myself spending time out there when I needed further inspiration or motivation.

During the first week, I made and refined sketches for four of the five carvings. He was likely just being polite, but every time I offered him a glance at my work, Ereinion leaned close and murmured sweeter praise than I deserved for simple sketches.

"Your creative vision is positively exquisite!"

"Such lovely detail, and the style! Beautiful, híril vuin."

"We are fortunate to have found an artist of your skill, for how else would we look upon such wonders?"

Truly, if he continued like that, I was going to have a massively-inflated ego by the time I went home for good. I never stopped him, though. How could I when he leaned so close that I could feel his breath against my skin? I longed to simply abandon my propriety and allow myself to melt against his lovely, broad chest.

The king was more attentive than I expected him to be when the time came for the carving to begin. As I set out to make the first piece, he requested formally that he be allowed to watch, as it had been some time since he last observed a woodworker engaging in their craft.

His presence made the work even more enjoyable than it already was. He asked intelligent questions about the process, and I answered to the best of my ability, but as the day went along, our conversations touched on all sorts of topics. From Elvish history, to the merits of Dwarven stonecraft, to our childhoods, we allowed our discussions to meander along nearly every tangential thought we had. I'd never enjoyed myself so thoroughly.

As the end of the day drew near, and we lit a few candles to combat the dimming of the sun's light, Ereinion drew me over to the small sofa and gave me a joyful smile.

"In commemoration of this monumental first day of work, my lady, I would like to present you with this small token of my esteem," Gil-Galad said holding out a small, wooden box tied with silk ribbon.

"Honestly, Ereinion, you are much too kind," I demurred as I accepted the box. He looked excited to see my reaction, so I very carefully untied the bow.

A gasp escaped me when I saw the necklace I'd admired in the market when Elrond had escorted me. Crafted with the most exquisite detail and skill by Lord Celebrimbor of Eregion, the thin, delicate chain and sapphire pendant glimmered up at me as if giving a conspiratorial wink.

"I hope such a gesture is not too forward..." the king murmured, and I realized I'd been silent for a beat too long.

"Oh no! No, not at all. Forgive me, I was just surprised," I replied looking up just in time to catch relief sweeping across his features. "Ereinion...I cannot imagine what I have done to deserve such kindness, but I am incredibly grateful. Thank you. I did, in fact, admire this in the market the last time I was here. May I ask how you knew?"

A sheepish smile stole across his lips.

"I swore never to reveal my source's identity." I narrowed my eyes playfully, because I knew there were only two people who could've told him.

"Hm, if I did not know any better, I would think you were protecting a certain Peredhel," I prodded, and he gave me his best innocent look.

"My dearest lady, are you accusing the High King of Lindon of espionage?" He lifted his eyebrows, and though my heart raced, I doubled down.

"Perhaps, I am."

Ereinion let out a quiet 'tsk' and leaned a bit closer.

"Whatever shall I do about such impertinence?" He asked, and if I knew no better, I would've thought that his eyes had slid down to my lips for a moment. Instead, I merely leaned closer and held out the box.

"You could start by helping me with the clasp," I suggested, and a velvety laugh poured from his throat.

"I could, at that." He took the box from me, and once I'd lifted my hair out of the way, Ereinion threaded the chain around my neck. Though he secured the clasp rather easily, his hands lingered at the nape of my neck. Gently, he coaxed me to release my hair, then smoothed it back into place. When he spoke, it was in a slightly rougher voice than before. "There, now. It suits you to perfection."

His breath was warm against my scalp, and I barely suppressed a shiver of pleasure at how close he was standing. I turned to face the king, and his hands moved to my waist.

"My lady...meleth, I wonder if–" He was cut off by a sharp knock upon the door. We both practically jumped apart, and I looked away with burning cheeks as the king called out a gruff 'enter.' One of his guards stepped inside with a bow, but I neither heard nor cared about what he said. I was too focused on how foolishly I'd just behaved. Surely, the High King would be weary of my company after I'd behaved like a young girl falling in love for the first time. I came back to myself when he grasped my hand in both of his. "Forgive me, my lady, I must welcome a dignitary, but I do hope that I might be allowed to join you again in the coming days...?"

"Of course, your grace," I answered, and with a bow from him and a curtsy from me, he left to attend to his duties. That night, when his herald noted the shimmering necklace adorning me, he gave a mischievous smirk.

"Well, mellon-nín, that is certainly a lovely addition to your wardrobe. Tell me, how did you come by it?"

As if he did not already know. He was the only one beside the merchant who could have possibly known that I thought this necklace was pretty.

"Traitor of a Peredhel," I muttered, but my words lacked any real venom. He raised his hands in playful surrender.

"Forgive me, but, pray tell, what was I to do when my High King sought to give you a gift? He asked me if you seemed to favor anything in the market. What could I say?"

"Something that could have stopped him from making such a costly purchase, perhaps?" I teased, but Elrond just gave me the same look that he had about the boots.

"He would simply have bought multiple items and asked me which you would have preferred. Or, he would have given them all to you, one-by-one, in his pursuit of your heart." I looked at him sharply about that last remark.

"Do not tease me so, mellon," I scolded as we began to walk side-by-side toward one of the outdoor lounges. "You know he would never desire a mortal."

Elrond let out a huff of laughter, shaking his head as if he did not believe me.

"Oh, forgive my curiosity, but he said he was on his way to greet a dignitary. May I ask who that might be? I understand if it is private, of course, I was simply curious."

"Ah...about that," Elrond muttered as we stepped out onto the terrace lit with lanterns. There stood Ereinion and a blond Ellon in ornate, velvet robes. I looked at Elrond in askance, but Ereinion called my name when he caught sight of me.

"Mellon, this is the artist I told you about from the village of Men just south of Lindon." The High King moved to my side, laying a hand on my shoulder. "And, my lady, this is Lord Celebrimbor of Eregion."

"It is a great honor to meet you, my lord." I dropped into a low curtsy, which he met with a bow.

"My lady, the High King has spoken very highly of you and your work. The honor, I assure you, is mine," Celebrimbor said with a warm smile. Though stunned, I managed a shaky reply.

"I am certain he has been much too generous, as usual."

"Nonsense. Ereinion's praise is measured and delivered only where it is deserved," Celebrimbor said as we all took seats around a small table beneath the stars. "If he says your work is beautiful, then it is exquisite. In fact, that is part of the reason I am here. I know it is a bit early, but I am rather too eager to wait. May I, aran-nín?"

The High King gave him a graceful nod from the seat beside mine - had I subconsciously taken that seat, or had he sat subtly beside me without me noticing?

"Well, our king praised your work in a letter to me a few weeks ago, and when he mentioned that you were to return to grace his court with more of your creations, I wondered..." Celebrimbor paused and shifted slightly in his seat. "I am aware that your current project is meant to demonstrate the unity between our two peoples, so I wondered if you would consider collaborating on a piece with the same theme once your series is complete?"

I only just stopped my jaw from dropping open. The Greatest of the Elven Smiths wanted to work with...me?

"I-I would be honored, my lord," I stammered. "I must admit that I am not terribly familiar with the workings of a forge, but I would be overjoyed to contribute to such a project in some small way."

"Wonderful!" He exclaimed with a bright smile stretching his lips. "We can discuss the particulars in time, of course, but I am terribly glad that you've agreed. It is not often that both Ereinion and his herald speak so highly of a person."

My eyes flicked to Elrond, who, for the second time that night, gestured his surrender.

"You three are going to inflate my ego horribly, you know."

Over a modest dinner, the four of us chatted - it felt surreal to be conversing with three such illustrious Elves when I was just a mortal - until eventually, Lord Celebrimbor bid us a good night and retired to his chambers. Elrond did the same, tossing me a subtle wink as he took his leave.

Looking up, I found the king's eyes already on me, and my breath hitched in my chest at the tenderness I found in his gaze.

"Ereinion...I cannot thank you enough, truly. I have been an admirer of Lord Celebrimbor's work for as long as I can remember. An opportunity like this is..." I trailed off trying to find the right words, even as a giddy laugh bubbled out of me. "From the bottom of my heart, you have my most sincere gratitude."

The king smiled softly at me.

"It is my honor to bring together such skilled artists." That only made my face burn hotter. By the time he escorted me back to my chambers - an action which he swore was both necessary for his peace of mind and pleasant for him - the midnight stars twinkled brightly through the windows, bathing the king's visage in their glow as he bid me sweet dreams.

--

A few morns later, I was barely an hour into the day's work on my carvings when a knock sounded at the door. When I called for whomever it was to enter, I couldn't keep the smile off my lips. I didn't bother to look up, as my visitor could only be one of two people.

"Hm, is it the Peredhel or the High King who graces me this morning?" I called as I brushed a gloved finger over an edge to test whether I'd achieved the right depth.

"Neither, I'm afraid." I turned quickly to see none other than the Lord of Eregion standing just inside the doorway with an amused smile stretching his lips.

"Lord Celebrimbor! My sincerest apologies, I assumed..." I trailed off with a vague, helpless gesture. "Forgive me. What can I do for you?"

"'Tis I who should be apologizing for interrupting your work and providing no prior warning of my arrival," he murmured as he walked a bit closer. "My curiosity got the better of me, I'm afraid. I wanted to watch the master at work."

I let out an incredulous laugh.

"I am hardly a master, my lord, but you are more than welcome to stay if you wish," I said laying aside my tools for a moment as he studied the sketches I'd spread across a stand. "I've just received a fresh pot of tea and some lemon cakes, if you wish for some refreshment, and I'd be more than willing to explain what I'm doing."

"Oh, I'd be most appreciative of all of the above," he answered with a smile, and I gave him a quick explanation of what I'd done so far, as well as what I was aiming to do next. Eventually, we ended up seated with tea and lemon cakes, chatting about various creative methods. After a slight pause, he set his cup and saucer on the little table before us. "My lady...in truth, I did come here this morning with an ulterior motive. I wished to thank you."

He must've seen the utter confusion in my face, because he elaborated rather quickly.

"You see, I have been friends with the High King for thousands of years. I know his moods, his joys, his sorrows. I have seen him filled with rage and with laughter but...lately, there is a happiness...a sort of contentment about him that I feared he would never find," he explained, but I hadn't quite caught his drift.

"Forgive me, my lord, I-I don't understand," I muttered, and he nodded his head.

"Elrond said that through your own modesty you might not. Let me put it another way, then," he said, and I set my own teacup aside. "I believe, my lady, that your presence here in Lindon has brought into the king's life something that he desperately needed. Something...which he has not felt before in any serious capacity."

His meaning clicked in my mind, then, and I ducked my head. Elrond had obviously convinced him of the same folly.

"Ah. I think you give me too much credit, my lord," I demurred, but he shook his head.

"I don't. I have seen the way he looks at you. And, he does so in a way that I have never seen from him before," Celebrimbor politely insisted. "He cares for you, and it is plain to all but him that you feel the same. I am grateful to you, my lady, for bringing joy into his life."

My heart raced in my chest at the possibility that Elrond's teasing might've had a basis, after all.

"B-But I'm mortal–"

"–And, that is not a problem. There have been many matches in the history of Middle-Earth between mortals and Elves," he explained, and I could not stop my skepticism from showing on my face.

"The only one with which I am familiar ended rather famously in tragedy," I pointed out, and he let out a light huff of laughter.

"Yes, well, Beren and Lúthien might be the most well-known pairing between an Elf and a Human, but they are not the only ones. Most others choose to live rather quiet, modest lives," Celebrimbor murmured, and hope flickered within me. "Your life with him would be neither quiet nor modest, after all, he is the High King. However, I know with certainty that he would treat you like the queen you would become."

I considered his words silently for a moment before voicing a thought that had been bouncing around in my mind ever since I met Ereinion.

"Would I not be dooming him?" I knew what was said about Elves and the intensity of their love and grief. "Would my mortality not cause him pain when what little there is of my life comes to an end? Our lives are but blinks compared to yours."

Celebrimbor caught my hands in his grasp and looked at me earnestly.

"My lady, I swear to you, he is more than aware of the implications of falling for a mortal. We may not be able to control with whom we fall in love, but we do have a choice in pursuit. Ereinion could have attempted to smother those feelings and distance himself, but he has not done so. He is over four thousand years old. He knows his own heart," the Lord of Eregion's gaze was gentle and reassuring. "You have done no harm by caring for him, nor shall you by accepting his affections."

After Celebrimbor had excused himself, tears of relief, anticipation, and joy spilled down my cheeks. When Elrond let himself in moments later and wrapped his arms around me in concern, I looked at him with a damp smile.

"Celebrimbor was here," I murmured, and after a brief, confused pause, a warm smile stretched his lips. "I think I believe you, now. Goheno nin, mellon."

"Hush, there is nothing to forgive." At his reassurance, I buried my face in the shoulder of his tunic and tried to steady my breathing. "Perhaps, now, you will enjoy this dance a bit more, hm?"

--

As the weeks quickly passed, I easily completed three of the five carvings, and was nearly finished with the fourth. The two symbols of our peoples were only awaiting suitable stands, which Lord Celebrimbor asked the honor of creating. Why would I ever refuse such an offer? Ereinion and I had decided on the tree I'd admired from the courtyard - which he'd taught me was known as the Great Tree and was linked the vitality of the Elves as a species - as a representation of his people.

The long, crescent moon table belonging to our village's council of elders, complete with each member's seat and stone palm gavel and plate was to represent my village, since the elders were considered the wisest among us. At times, I found that sentiment questionable at best, but the elders could at least be reasoned with.

The likeness carvings, however, were a matter of great debate for Ereinion and I. There was no question that the singular knight of note that our village had produced should suit the project, but as for the Elves, there were so many more options. Each was as viable as the last. As Ereinion had founded Lindon, my initial thought was that I should carve him. A slightly more selfish underlying motive, I had to admit, was getting the chance to sketch and carve his likeness - not that I hadn't already sketched him a dozen times over in idle moments in my chambers. That suggestion, however, was rejected by the Ellon in question.

After much back and forth over various Elves of noble and notable standing, he laid forth Círdan the Shipwright, and we finally agreed. Círdan was amenable to the suggestion, though he modestly asserted that there were much more worthy subjects before accepting the proposal. At the High King's request, he visited the palace for a fortnight while I worked.

I could see why Ereinion suggested him almost immediately. There was a sort of peace within his eyes and wisdom in even his smallest responses during our conversations while I sketched him.

At the month-and-a-half mark of my time in Lindon, I was nearing completion of the fourth carving - the knight from our own tales whose likeness lay only in the imaginations of those who recounted his story. All week, the High King had been busy with his duties to his people, but the final day of work on his particular carving, he made a point of spending the evening hours in my company. Although I was disheveled from my work by that point, he did not seem to mind any more than usual as we conversed.

"I find that I shall miss Lindon," I admitted as I brushed away the final curls of wood left by my tools. "I know that eventually, we shall find a suitable scene for the final piece in this set and I'll return to make it, but I...I must admit, I do not long for home after so long in such a lovely place."

Ereinion didn't miss a beat.

"You needn't leave," the king said, and I looked up at him curiously. "You could stay here. My lady, I offer you a home – a set of chambers in the palace that would be your own. You would be under no obligation to go or stay, rather you'd be able to do so as pleases you."

I could hardly believe what I was hearing.

"If you wished to retain your home in your village and only use your chambers here as an occasional respite, you could. If you wished to live here permanently, you would be most welcome to do so," he explained grasping my hands and looking at me earnestly. "I desire only to give you the chance to choose for yourself. You needn't decide right away. This offer will always be open to you; I merely wished to make it known while I had the opportunity."

Laying my hands atop his chest and covering them with his own, Ereinion looked hopefully down at me.

"Your kindness is beyond expression." My voice was barely above a whisper, but to speak any louder seemed wrong. It seemed reckless to make a choice without considering other factors beyond my own desire to remain in the High King's presence. "I...would be remiss to give you an answer without due thought, so with your permission I will take some time to consider the question."

A relieved smile stretched the king's lips, and he drew me into a gentle embrace.

"That is all I ask, meleth."

Scant minutes later, I was seated beside Elrond in an empty pavilion beneath the stars. The cushioned bench upon which we sat was positioned for a lovely view of the moonlit paths into the forest, which were dotted with fireflies, but I hardly noticed such beauty in my state of agitation.

"What do I do?" I asked clutching desperately at my friend's arm.

"What do you wish to do?" He asked cupping my cheek and skimming his thumb across my skin. "Do you want to stay? Or, would you prefer to return home? As Gil-Galad stated, there is no need to make a permanent decision, nor is there any haste to do so. He has made it quite clear that you are free to come and go as you choose. All you need decide, mellon-nín, is whether you want to have a home here...a part of Lindon - of the palace - that is your own."

Nothing sounded more abhorrent than stepping outside the gates of this beautiful place never to return, with nothing to come back to even if I did. I felt as thought I'd stepped into one of the stories the village bards told on firelight nights in the autumn.

"Such offers are not made lightly, are they?" I asked, but I knew the answer long before the words left Elrond's lips.

"No, mellon. I have never known the High King to propose anything like this. Diplomatic housing? Of course. But, to offer chambers in the palace on a permanent basis...that is unprecedented."

I stood and paced the length of the cobblestone perimeter and back again before stopping in front of my friend.

"I'm going to accept," I said, and a giddy sort of warmth bubbled up within me at having spoken the words. Elrond got to his feet and I practically leaped into his arms with excitement.

--

During the following weeks, I fell into a sort of routine. Elrond would break his fast with me before attending to his duties with the king, then I would venture out into Lindon intent on exploring. I tried to visit a different place each day, sketching the various sights and mentally mapping out where everything was until I had a working knowledge of the city surrounding the palace.

The guards and shopkeepers alike seemed not to object to my presence, and I tried to be as polite as humanly possible with them during my wandering.

In the afternoons or evenings, Ereinion, if his duties permitted, would join me for a walk, dine with me, or share a nightcap and converse with me before we retired to our respective beds. One such evening, as we walked together discussing possibilities for the final carving, Ereinion paused beside a particularly lovely overlook to the waterfall. I did the same, savoring the feeling of his hand gently grasping mine as water sparkled and roared into the river below.

"Will I...see you for the harvest festival? The annual celebrations here in Lindon are quite a sight to behold." Gil-Galad spoke as if he was trying to persuade me to come. "If you do attend, I...I do not know how often you were given the chance in your village, but I would be honored if you would perhaps save a dance for me."

I smiled up at the Ellon who'd so easily stolen my heart, hoping that the love I felt for him wasn't painted across my face as obviously as I felt that it was.

"I wouldn't miss it, and, Ereinion, you may have as many dances with me as you desire, save one which I am certain your herald will claim." He lifted his chin a little higher as if he was proud to have received such a response.

I, however, was too busy admiring the way the moonlight played across the High King's features. To dance with him would be a privilege.

By the time the afternoon of the festival arrived, though, I was trembling as I held my dress before me in front of the mirror. My confidence, while still present, had been tempered by my nerves. How small and plain would a mortal appear in a hall filled with graceful, beautiful Elves?

"You will look exquisite, mellon-nín," Elrond said moving to stand behind me at the mirror. After a short pause, his broad smile became mischievous. "May I ask, however, how you will catch the High King when he swoons at the sight of you? I can see it so clearly, now. 'Ah, gil-nín! Such a vision!'"

The king's herald feigned fainting onto my bed, and I dissolved in a fit of giggles.

"You know he would never behave in such a melodramatic manner," I chided gently, but Elrond merely sat up and smirked.

"Perhaps not, but he will be absolutely besotted with you in such a fine garment." Despite his assertion, I still had my doubts. Yes, Celebrimbor had managed to convince me that my interest was not as one-sided as I imagined, but I still wondered if this could possibly develop into the sort of romance that my silly mortal heart wanted. My friend's hand reached out and coaxed me into sitting beside him. "At the very least, I shall have to scold him rather harshly if he does not dare to steal even a single kiss."

My cheeks burned even as a surprised laugh escaped me.

"You would berate your king?" Dismissing my incredulity with a much-too-sincere smile, Elrond tilted my chin up a little.

"For you, mellon-nín? Absolutely."

--

Elrond had arrived at the royal hall long before me due to his obligations to the royal court. When I approached the ornate double doors held open for the guests' ease of entry, my heart leaped into my throat. Everyone looked so beautiful! The Elleths and Ellons mingled and talked amidst the strains of gentle, serene music played by a veritable orchestra moving throughout the room.

I was grotesquely out of place amongst such graceful, ethereal beings. My sage green dress - recommended by my friend - looked beautiful, of course, but nothing could compare to the natural grace of their kind. Perhaps it was not too late to return to my chambers and feign a headache...

"There you are! You're just in time," Elrond murmured as he caught my hand in his. Damn. Too late for a retreat.

Without waiting for my reply, he drew me toward the front of the room where Gil-Galad was ascending a small dais. The High King's eyes met mine, and a joyful smile stretched his lips as he raised his hands.

When the crowd fell silent, Ereinion bid everyone welcome to the harvest festival, but I hardly heard a word. Deep green and gold robes draped languidly from his frame, and a crown of branches and berries decorated with streaks of gold sat upon his head. I got the distinct impression that none would begrudge him if he claimed to be a king of nature as well of Elves.

As soon as he finished his speech, he made his way through the crowd, Ellons and Elleths bowing as he passed, only stopping once he stood before me. I dropped into a curtsy, but was surprised when he extended his hand to me as I straightened once more.

"Would you do me the honor of joining me for the traditional first dance, híril vuin?" My eyes went wide. Why would he ask me when there were so many Elleths there who would've been a better fit to the role of his dance partner than I? He seemed thoroughly certain, however, so I laid my hand atop his and allowed myself to be led to the center of the room. My fingers must've trembled in his grasp, for he leaned close as he guided us into position. "Breathe. I am here with you."

I nodded my head as the music began, focusing simply upon the High King, rather than the many sets of eyes watching us. Everything fell away when my eyes met my partner's. He was looking at me with such softness that I found myself entranced.

Ereinion's lead was effortless and skillful, and all but my king faded from my focus. A few moments in, he spoke quietly so that only I could hear him.

"Gil-nín, I believe I know what the final piece of our series should be," the High King murmured against the shell of my ear. I looked up at him curiously, and he smiled as he guided me around the dance hall. "If you will forgive me for taking a liberty, I have commissioned several artists to capture a sketch of the two of us dancing, and...I can think of no better illustration of the unity between our people than us. I should have proposed the idea earlier, but I thought that if I made my intentions known, you...may no longer wish to dance with me."

I blinked up at him, expecting to see a teasing smile stretch his lips, but instead all I found was sincerity and a sheepish blush. He was serious. Stepping closer at his behest while we danced, I laid my head gently on his chest.

"You are right, of course, about all except the dance," I replied. "I can honestly say that none from my village have been on such pleasant terms with your people as I've been. For that opportunity, Ereinion, I thank you with all my heart. But, I would not have missed dancing with you for all the world."

His chin rested atop my head, and his grip on both my waist and hand tightened slightly.

"'Tis I who should be thanking you, my dear lady. These past months have been idyllic."

We ignored the gazes trained upon us as the first dance came to a close. Afterward, as people paired up to begin their own dances, we walked out of the hall arm-in-arm into the moonlight. The gentle rustling of the leaves upon the Great Tree added to the sweet, serene atmosphere surrounding us.

"This place is just as breathtaking as the first time I saw it," I murmured, recalling the vividly striking sight that was Lindon's High King standing between the tree and the setting sun on the horizon. Now, the stars glittered in his hair and set his eyes aglow.

"As are you, my dear lady." My host's low voice sent a flutter of warmth through my chest and caused my cheeks to burn under the starlight - a sight of which I hoped he was less aware than I thought he might be. "And, I am even more pleased that you are here tonight, for you are here of your own desire rather than out of a sense of duty to your people. It is not often that I am sought for the pleasure of my company over what I might do as a result of the power of my position. Yet, you have done so more than once for things as mundane and pleasing as a simple conversation."

Glancing up at him and squeezing his arm lightly, I offered the king a smile.

"Truthfully, your grace, I am pleased that my duty brought me to you, but I was equally disappointed that our first meeting was business-related," I admitted quietly. "I would have liked to have given you a better first impression than that of a weary traveler in desperate need of assistance."

"Oh? And, pray tell, if you were given the choice, how would you have preferred that meeting to have gone?" His voice edged into the realm of playfulness - a side he so rarely showed, but which I still saw more frequently than most others.

"Well, I should like to have had the chance to outfit myself better. Tatty riding leathers, a mud-stained skirt, and a pair of boots held together by mere wishes? Those were hardly the most appropriate things to be wearing to meet the High King of Lindon," I said smirking up at him. "I must've appeared as no more than clot of dirt muddying your pretty gilded hall."

"You do yourself a great disservice, my lovely lady," he stated unequivocally, "for you would look as radiant as the sun and the stars even covered from head to toe in mud."

"You flatter me," I stammered in protest, but the king merely paused and turned so that we faced each other.

"I speak only the truth. For my part, you made quite a positive impression, meleth-nín," Gil-Galad murmured as his thumb and forefinger gently grasped my chin and tilted my head up so that my gaze met his. For a long moment, I became lost in his eyes. It was not the first time in the months that I'd known him, and it certainly would not be the last.

A cold gust of wind - likely the first of the winter - swirled around us, and I couldn't suppress a shiver. The High King swept the soft, green and gold cloak from his shoulders, draping it without a word around my own. When the garment enveloped me, I was comforted by not only the warmth that had seeped into the fabric from its previous wearer, but by his scent as well. Something masculine, herbal, and soothing washed over me - the same something I smelled every time I was near him - and I took an instinctive deep breath, savoring the sensation.

"Hannon le, aran-nín," I murmured, and a soft smile stretched his lips. "Are you not cold yourself?"

His hands slid down from my upper arms to my waist where they paused.

"With the warmth of your presence so near, I shall resist the cold effortlessly, I assure you." His gaze dropped to my lips; he appeared to battle with his thoughts for a few long seconds before speaking again. "However, I...wonder if it might be wise for me to finally take a risk. I must admit that I am sorely tempted."

"What risk would that be?"

"This," he breathed, and cradling the back of my head tenderly, the High King leaned in until his lips met mine. I was stunned for a moment before my fingers delved into the sea of his dark tresses and returned his kiss. Gentle yet passionate, High King Gil-Galad stole the breath from my lungs and all of my resolve to resist reaching above my station. Every thought of my unworthiness were washed away in the wake of his tenderness.

Neither of our stations mattered when being together felt like this. I wanted to stay firmly locked in his arms until the sun went out and Middle-Earth crumbled around us.

The trilling of a flute from within startled us both, and as we caught our breath, our foreheads rested together. Anyone at the party just inside the palace doors could have seen their king kiss me. Had I risked damaging his reputation?

Before I could spiral too much into my own thoughts, Gil-Galad spoke in a low, fervent voice.

"Prior to meeting you, I never considered it necessary to have a queen by my side," he murmured. "Now, however, the thought scarcely leaves my mind. At every turn I find my daydreams straying into territory which propriety dictates they ought not."

His lips met my forehead.

"More than anything, I want you to remain a part of my life, but I would be honored if you would do so by my side...as my queen." Warm vulnerability swam through his eyes, almost as delicate as my own. One cruel breeze would tear his heart out. Oh, Valar, even the thought made me want to sob.

"I am yours, Ereinion. Always, in all things," I swore as I reached carefully up and cupped his cheeks. "I have been since the moment I laid eyes on you."

His lips met mine again, hungrier than before, as if he was determined to claim my heart through this alone. Eventually, the emotions that we'd been holding back won out, and after we both released relieved sighs, we stood giggling joyfully in each other's embrace.

When we finally moved to rejoin the party several songs and kisses later, I tried to return Gil-Galad's cloak, but he just wrapped it more firmly around me, giving me a faux stern look.

"I want them all to know that they are looking upon the woman I love, rían-nín." My queen. That sentiment made my heart race once more.

Elrond met my gaze as he walked over, giving me a low bow after the one he offered his king. The sparkle in his eye told me all I needed to know about whether he'd seen us.

With Gil-Galad's arm still around my waist, I didn't care who'd caught a glimpse. Let them look.

~*~*~

Elvish Words:

mellon-nín = my friend

gil-nín = my bright spark

híril vuin = beloved lady

goheno nin = forgive me

aran-nín = my king

rían-nín = my queen

~*~

Taglist:

@bigblissandlove1 @asksizworld @zoya-olenko @gandalfthepimp

[theredwritingwitch]

Benjamin Walker as Ereinion Gil-Galad

RINGS OF POWER (2022)

[theredwritingwitch]

✨️

Think I'll miss you forever

Like the stars miss the sun in the morning sky

Later's better than never

Even if you're gone, I'm gonna drive drive, drive...

Summertime Sadness by Lana Del Rey

[theredwritingwitch]

Title: Shadows around Eregion ch.4/?

Pairing: Adar/female oc

Rating: Explicit

Summary: What if Lord Celebrimbor had a daughter? What if he was very protective of her, and she had lived her entire life so far safe in Eregion? What if she ventures outside and Adar takes her?

Think Hades-and-Persephone with a hint of Fated Mates, a lil bit of pregnancy plot, a touch of Fix-It, and a smidgen of actual plot. Oh, and like a MASSIVE amount of spice. Eventually.

Chapter summary: What happens when BOTH people fuck around? BOTH get to find out.

Naradis finds out that a Moriondor can be quite ruthless, and Adar finds out that his prisoner is willing to match his crazy and then some. Well, a descendant of Fëanor does not fold easily.

[theredwritingwitch]

SAM HAZELDINE as ADAR THE RINGS OF POWER 2.07 Doomed to Die

[theredwritingwitch]

Adar + sitting on his thrones