The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings one shots and Imagines

Lady of love - Part 4 - Elrond x Reader

Once again italics are Sindarin. 

The lord of Imladris couldn't help but stare. The elleth before him seemed to be glowing. Her presence overshadowing anything else around them. Her gown was of a shimmering pale grey colour, its train spreading out around her as she stood and smiled at his. Her long white hair falling like silk over her shoulders; and on her head was no mere circlet like the one that donned his brow, but a crown. A crown that appeared to be made of small branches, adorned with the most beautiful of flowers that Elrond had ever seen. The brightest of berries and tendrils of ivy framing her exquisite visage, before intertwining with her hair. It appearing to the half-elven lord that the flora was growing from the lady herself. That she was as much a part of nature, as it was of her. Elrond feeling his breath catching in his throat, as she slowly began to move towards him.

The breath caught in her throat as the lord closed the door behind him. The lady able to feel a slight heat kiss her cheeks as she made her way over to where he stood. In truth, she had expected the equerry, Lindir, to be the one that had knocked; to be the one that would escort her to the evening's celebrations, yet instead, here was the half-eleven lord himself. A soft smile gracing his features, as she moved closer to him. Once again, she couldn't help but think that he looked so handsome, his dark blue robes not only complimenting her own gown but fitting his form quite perfectly. The simple silver circlet that sat atop his brow flattering his long dark hair that seemed to shimmer in the evening light. The soft hues of red and orange of the setting sun, bathing him in their warmth and making his eyes sparkle with a touch of something that she couldn't quite place; but it was something that she put down to the mannish part of his nature. A side that she had already decided that she quite liked.

It was a part of him that she admired, that made him so different to any other elf that she had met, especially those in Mirkwood. He was much friendlier than most true elves, he actually smiled, and seemed to be more in tune with the emotions that some others seemed to feel they were above. And all of this was in complete contrast to her brother; for now, even with the best intentions, Thranduil could never be described as any of that, and she couldn't help but think that that was such a shame.

"Lord Elrond.............What a surprise." (Y/n) greeted as she stopped in front of him. Elrond slowly taking her hand and bringing it up to her lips. The lord kissing it softly.

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He was sure that she must be able to hear it as he stood there, reluctantly letting her hand go. He was sure that she must be able to hear his heart thump inside of him. Not for one moment did Elrond ever think that he would feel like this again. Not for one moment did he ever think that he would be lucky enough to find someone else that could instill in him such wants and desires. Yet here she was, the princess of the dark forest, daughter of the great elven king Oropher, causing him to think again. Making him spend all the time since he had escorted her to her rooms, in thought, contemplating the life he could have if he could persuade the lady not to return to Mirkwood.

"I had expected Lindir to be the one to escort me to the evening's festivities, not you.............but I cannot say that I am disappointed that it isn't. I so wanted you to be the first one to see me. I hope that you will think that it look suitable for your guests.................?"

Suitable? How could anyone that was like the princess, think that she wouldn't appear suitable for his guests. For the evening? The first moment that he saw her, he was convinced that she was one of the ladies of the Valar. That she had not in fact journeyed from Mirkwood but had sailed there from Valinor. Elrond sure that the realms of the Undying Lands would, without her there, be like the home of Nienna, the Vala of sorrow and endurance, who lived cut off in the far west of the island in the Halls of Nienna, where she spent her days crying, looking out to sea. That the Pastures of Yavanna, the Gardens of Lórien and Woods of Oromë must be dark and grey without her presence in the Land across the Sea.

"You look perfect my lady. I have never seen the like. I am sure that even Manwë Súlimo himself would be jealous of me this evening." Elrond replied, as he looked into her eyes. The half-elven reaching up his hand and taking some of her pale hair between his fingers.

"You are too kind, my lord." (Y/n) told him, the two continuing to just stand there. The room, the waterfalls, the last rays of the setting sun all seeming to vanish as the lord and princess dwelt in the orbs of the other. The pair forgetting for a moment about the celebration. Elrond finding himself moving closer to the lady, their lips only a breath apart; (Y/n) closing her eyes, as she felt the mouth of the half-elven ghost over hers, the sudden sound of music making Elrond move back, the lord remembering what they should be doing. (Y/n) smiling as she opened her eyes again and looked up at him.

"Perhaps we should get to the celebration. I am sure that your guests are waiting for you." She said, as she took Elrond by the arm.

"But perhaps..................."

"Perhaps.............?" The lord enquired, looking to the lady as he opened the door.

"We could continue this later...................?"