TOLKIEN; imagines

44: A Glass Paradise I Have Reaped - Elrond

Request from onceuponapossibility on tumblr​: Hello I was wondering if you could write a Elrond x reader based off this: The assassin melted and turned to love.

Translations: mellon: friend, guren vell: my sweet heart, melethril nin: my beloved, amin mela lle: I love you.

Warnings: mentions of an unstable home or loving family.

Words: 2200

The assassin's heart melted and turned to love, as her gaze lingered avidly upon the ebony-haired lord from the chair upon which she sat placidly, obscuring the volatile war between the child who fantasized the tranquility of a life filled with love and a vagabond whose fear was evident in every decision, every thought, behind a frigid, emotionless mask. How was a heart once ruled by trepidation and animosity suddenly compelled to defy all she had ever known for the survival of the ellon who had struck her soul in ways she never thought possible and in ways he would never have known existed, in the span of a few months. It was love, it had to be.

Ever since Y/N had arrived in Imladris disguised as an advisor sent by King Thranduil of the Mirkwood realm to serve Lord Elrond, her heart had sustained a vigorous attraction to the lord, making all attempts to end his life futile. But in doing so, Y/N put herself in danger, for if she did not kill him, she would be slain by the evil of Mordor, in replacement of the lord.

The weight of the task was immense as it was, without the aid of the fair, milky skin, the mellifluous tone in which he spoke or the look of pure kindness that garnished his stormy eyes like wonderous stars in the inky black above, a look that he had bestowed upon her many a time. The hours the pair had spent conversing only allowed her feelings to strengthen as she was enlightened upon Elrond's desires, his weaknesses, his past...everything.

Y/N, the assassin who had never known a stable home, a loving family, a full stomach, was unshakably in love with Lord Elrond of Imladris, and it would be the death of her... if she was to carry out the perfidious intentions she plotted as she gazed longingly at the elegant face of whom she was meant to murder.

-

Sometime after the congregation of the council, Elrond scoured all of Imladris in search for Y/N, unable to find her, even in the locations at which the pair had loved to read tales of old, or tranquilize each other's worries or provide another lonely soul to converse with into the youthful hours of the morn, the locations at which Elrond's heart had fallen hopelessly in love with the elleth.

Only did he stop his searching when he heard the voice of his minstrel, dulcet and clear above all else, begging Elrond to ease his worries and retire to his chambers.

"My lord," Lindir's dulcet voice soothed, "please stop burdening yourself with this trivial controversy. Fatigue has probably gotten the best of Lady Y/N, leaving her in her chambers. I am sure she is fine, my lord."

"I suppose that is a more likely situation out of the ones that have plagued my mind," Elrond sighed, finally giving into his own lethargy, "Thank you, Lindir, for easing my frantic mind."

"It was not a problem, my lord," Lindir assured as Elrond gave him a brief smile before walking off in the direction of his chambers, the longing for the warmth of a blazing fire in the hearth and a bed and covers under which he could rest at the front of his mind.

Unfortunately, as Elrond entered his chambers, a piece of folded parchment upon his desk, one that had not been there that morn, caught his eye. Little did Elrond know that that parchment, brittle in some places from droplets of water that had fallen from the author's eyes and wet in others from blots of dark ink not yet dried, would be the source from which Elrond's mind would gather enough strength to lay waste to his glass heart and paper lungs. Little did he know of the impenetrable waves of anxiety, the strong sense of urgency he would experience when his eyes passed over the black scrawl upon that seemingly innocent piece of vellum.