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the-classy-villainess · 1 year

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Deceiver

Dark!Halbrand (Sauron) x Elf!reader

Summary: The daughter of Gil-galad is seduced.

Words: 2.4k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“All of which can be forgone—”

“Only in times of war.”

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

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

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

He smiled, trailing his knuckles gently down your cheek.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“All right.”

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

“Yes?”

“Yes,” you laughed.

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

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

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

Tell him you love him, more than anything.

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

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

----------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You want this.

I want this.

You love him.

I love him, you agreed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pleasant dreams?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Halbrand, please!”

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

“I–I will always love you.”

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

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

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

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

#sauron x reader #halbrand x reader #dark!halbrand x reader #rings of power fanfiction #rings of power fic

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eleneressea · 8 months

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☆ ☾ ♥▼♦ ♒ - for Aragorn please 🥺 (hopefully with Aragorn x Legolas)

whoops all Aragorn & Elrond.

☆ - happy headcanon

Likes giving gifts; when he was little, this mostly manifested as giving Gilraen and Elrond neat rocks he found, pretty flowers, and other such things he found in Imladris. Later on he got a bit more sophisticated, though Elrond still gets the occasional neat rock, for old times' sake.

☾ - sleep headcanon

Tried for many years to learn to sleep with his eyes open after someone told him that men could sleep like that too. He never got the hang of it, and stopped when Elrond told him that he could damage his eyes doing that; elves have a thin inner eyelid that they close while asleep like that which humans don't have.

♥ - family headcanon

Called Elrond Ada for many years, and still does if he's tired or emotional or hurt; it just slips out every so often. Elrond also told him stories—not just the dramatic stories like Beren and Lúthien, or the Rescue from Thangorodrim, but the little ones about Elrond's childhood, or stories of Elros's descendants over the years; Aragorn passes these down to his children, as well.

▼ - childhood headcanon

Elves are not always super great at telling humans apart over multiple generations, so little Estel was mostly called Estel…but also the names of approximately every Dúnadan fostered in Imladris for the past few thousand years. Elrond was not only not immune to this, he also called Estel Elros once, after Aragorn returned from spending a few years away in the wilds.

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon

Talks to birds, a habit picked up from Elrond. Does not, to his eternal disappointment, have Elrond's bird-summoning ability, nor can he understand bird's-speech all that well.

♒ - cooking/food headcanon

Cannot cook. Well, he can, he's not bad at roasting meat or vegetables over a fire in the woods, but you wouldn't eat it if you haven't been hiking all day. Multiple people have tried to teach him how to cook properly, but he is remarkably anti-talented at it.

#aragorn #elrond

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i-did-not-mean-to · 1 year

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Introduce your writing

Fandoms I write for: The Hobbit, The Silm, LOTR, some others but only for specific roles of specific actors

Characters I write for: Too many to enumerate them. Fave is Ori the dwarf.

Pairings I write for: Again, too many to count them...I'd say xOC/reader for the Hobbit and canon x canon for the Silm. As for LOTR, depends on the character :D favourite pairing per se is Russingon.

Ratings I write : Gen-Explicit with a preference for "Mature-Explicit", I guess.

Favourite genre: Romance (and crack)

Favourite trope: Idiots in love, pining, slow burn

I take requests: Yes (usually for the FOTFICS prompts)

I write AUs: OMG, yes!

I write reader-inserts: For requests, yes

Characters I don't write: Let me think...Men (mostly) & Hobbits

Pairings I don't write: Until now? Celrond, Aragorn x anyone, Beren x Lúthien, so, I guess the canon pairings that already have a story (with the exception of Farawyn apparently)

Things that squick me: Pregnancy, childbirth, babies.

The thing I do best: Cracky, Modern!AU telenovela romance

The thing I like writing least: Gen Family fluff about child-rearing or something in that vein

Something about me that shows in my writing: I like knowing what people smell like and I am greedy for people's voices

I also do: Mediocre moodboards and colourful titles (and I pay other people for art muhahaha)

Let me tag some writers I admire greatly...

@lordoftherazzles, @lathalea, @legolasbadass, @linasofia, @middleearthpixie, @laurfilijames, @frosticenow, @enchantzz, @ahufflepuffhobbit, @scyllas-revenge, @the-girl-with-the-algebra-book, @heilith, @mismaeve, @last-capy-hupping, @arofili, @cuarthol, @polutrope, @thenookienostradamus, @cilil, @eunoiaastralwings

#og post #tag game #questions for writers

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serene-faerie · 11 months

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Bleach x Middle Earth: RenRuki as Beren and Lúthien (Renji as Beren Erchamion and Rukia as Lúthien Tinúviel)

"Among the tales of sorrow and of ruin that come down to us from the darkness of those days there are yet some in which amid weeping there is joy and under the shadow of death light that endures. And of these histories most fair still in the ears of Elves is the tale of Beren and Lúthien." - J.R.R. Tolkien

#bleach #abarai renji #renji abarai #abarai rukia #rukia abarai #kuchiki rukia #rukia kuchiki #renruki #jrr tolkien #lotr #my edit #aesthetic #the silmarillion

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ettelenethelien · 2 months

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there are people who draw beren taller than luthien and there are people who insist she was likely taller

and then there's me who finds the latter depictions a bit weird-looking and has an allergic attack when she sees the former. and no one is drawing them the same height xd

#my post #beren x luthien #lúthien tinúviel #beren #beren x lúthien

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velvet4510 · 14 days

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I ship every canonical Tolkien couple - except Aerin & Brodda, Aredhel & Eöl, and Tar-Míriel & Ar-Pharazôn. Those poor ladies deserved so much better than those pathetic a-holes.

(I also kinda think Melian could’ve done better than Thingol.)

These are the “non-canonical” Tolkien pairings that I ship, since nobody asked.

Frodo x Sam (it’s literally canon, period, forget the “non-canonical” category, it’s right there, it’s real)

Frodo x Sam x Rosie (Sam being shared during that year in Bag End; also all but spelled out)

Bilbo x Thorin (obviously; even in the book, it’s subtextual, but it’s THERE)

Fingon x Maedhros (Beren/Lúthien + Frodo/Sam parallels are no joke; yes yes i know i know they’re first cousins and that should be a dealbreaker, and for a while it was for me, but technically they’re HALF-cousins, they only share one grandparent, and it’s not like they can procreate together, so it’s very different from what it would be if one of them was female, also their story is inherently tragic and I think their being related adds to that)

Túrin x Beleg (also, obviously; i mean Túrin only thought he loved Níniel because he felt some kind of connection with her but misinterpreted it in his desperation to get over Beleg)

Finrod x Bëor (yes, Finrod loved Amarië too, and they definitely got their well-deserved happily ever after when Finrod was re-embodied…BUT look at what Bëor did for Finrod and how Finrod lost Bëor to mortality but then laid down his life for Bëor’s descendant; the angst is just too juicy to ignore)

I do not ship Merry and Pippin at all; not only are they full blooded first cousins, but since Merry is an only child and Pippin only has sisters, they very clearly fill that “brother” role in each other’s lives.

After a lot of thought, I’ve decided that queerplatonic Legolas/Gimli makes the most sense to me. They also fill the “brother” role in each other’s lives since they both have no blood siblings. I understand why many people do ship them romantically/sexually, but the thought of anything sexual between them just doesn’t feel right to me, personally. Even the thought of kisses just doesn’t seem to fit them, IMO; they’re about mutual respect and sharing quality time, rather than anything physical. To me they exemplify “heterosexual life partners” perfectly.

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emeraldskulblaka · 1 year

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Do you ever just

Lúthien: I’m reading the book of your fate, but its words are too coarse. Its language is too plain – like the sky, which is out of reach. What is "pain"?

Beren: The enemy, from which death delivers us.

Lúthien: What is "war"?

Beren: A delight to foolish poets, but heinous to behold.

Lúthien: What is "hatred"?

Beren: The air of war, without which it cannot live.

Lúthien: What is "love"?

Beren: Love lies between hatred and death.

- The Meeting of Lúthien and Beren from Finrod, the Rock Opera x

#beren #luthien

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wordspin-shares · 3 months

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20 Questions for Writers

Thank you so much for the tag, @thecharmedburrowspn-files!

How many works do you have on AO3?

18, although one is the unfinished draft of the previous version of my LotR fic, which I uploaded simply to have it exist somewhere (and to remind me how far I've come).

What is your total AO3 word count?

Barring the aforementioned archived draft, 49,981.

What fandoms do you write for?

Right now, The Vampire Diaries (TV-verse), The Grishaverse (bookverse) and The Lord of the Rings (bookverse).

What are your top five fics by kudos?

My TVD fic From the Sidelines; my LotR fic Edged in Silver; my Silmarillion gapfiller Hallowed Waters; my multi-age Tolkien-verse gapfiller The Wings of Blue Butterflies; and my LotR gapfiller The Fifth Day.

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I always respond to comments, because I want to interact with my readers. They took the time to let me know what they thought of my work, and I want them to know I appreciate that. Plus, this kind of interaction can lead to interesting discussions.

What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hallowed Waters, I guess, because it's a gapfiller focusing on the story of Beren and Lúthien, and that by itself is angsty.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I wouldn't say happy, but rather optimistic, there's-light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel ending. The Fifth Day and The Sails are Set fit that description.

Do you get hate on your fic?

I did get a couple of odd comments on a previous version of Edged in Silver, but no hate.

Do you write smut?

Not really. I can do it, but it just doesn't have a purpose in my stories, so I don't see the point of writing smut for smut's sake.

Do you write crossovers?

No, but I wouldn't be averse to it if it made sense.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

Have you ever co-written a fic?

Yes, years ago, when I was in the X-Men fandom, and it made me realise that I'm too much of a control freak to attempt it again.

What's your all-time favorite ship?

Howl/Sophie from Diana Wynne Jones' Howl's Moving Castle series. It's just such a beautiful ship, they fit so wonderfully together.

What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Honestly, I don't know.

What are your writing strengths?

Creating vivid visuals without using too much description, I think.

What are your writing weaknesses?

The biggest one is definitely lack of focus.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I'm already doing it for the whole narrative, not just dialogue. English isn't my first language. lol Jokes aside, if it has to be done because it lends gravity to the scene, I will definitely do it if it's a language I'm comfortable writing snippets in. Otherwise, I'll find another way to handle said gravity.

First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter.

Favorite fic you've ever written?

I'd say my one-shot The Wings of Blue Butterflies. I'm rather fond of that one.

Tagging: @themaradwrites, @moustache-bonnet, @come-along-pond, @asirensrage, @darthnell, @foxesandmagic, @mariedemedicis, @bisexualterror, @anqelwiithhxrns, @arrthurpendragon, @mabonetsamhain, @bluebell-winter, @theblueelfling, @bobfloydsbabe, and anyone who wants to join!

#ff answered #writing answered

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lady-of-imladris · 8 months

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Tag People You’d Like to Get to Know Better!

Thank you for tagging me @myfavouritelunatic and @somebirdortheother <3

Three Ships: Gaari (Gaal Dornick/Hari Seldon), Nandor/Guillermo, Faramir/Eowyn (I will never be normal about them) <3

First Ship: I think Will Turner/Elizabeth Swan but I don't remember

Last Song: according to Spotify it was "Swan Song" by Lana del Rey (I listen to Lana excessively in the summer)

Last Movie: I can't remember, I rarely watch movies

Currently Reading: Beren and Lúthien by JRR Tolkien

Currently Watching: What We Do In The Shadows, Foundation Season 2, Gossip Girl, Game of Thrones

Last Thing I Wrote: a long post about recognizing ai generated images. In terms of fanfiction, SMUT (more specifically, Thranduil x Reader smut I promised to write because he won a poll lmao). But I did that while I was really tired so it needs a rework!

No pressure tagging: @founder-of-imladris @queenmeriadoc @starlady66 @fenharel-enaste <3

#thank you for tagging me

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eunoiaastralwings · 1 year

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I’ve got you, Brother

featuring lúthriel (oc) x family

fandom tolkien-the silmarillion

angst pure angst - the story of lú surviving the kinslaying, blood - canon characters deaths

a/n am hoping y'all like this and my precious lú

Lúthriel watched in horror as her brother picked up his sword – definite on fighting the Feanorians.

“Dior. . .”

She cried to call after him – desperately.

There was still time to fix this – still time to stop the kinslaying and create fairness from both sides.

“Gwanunig, stop this! Please! – This is wrong!” (Twin).

She shouted out desperately as she ran after him. Her legs were shaking – her breaths came out in small pants because of her fear.

“And, why is it?”

He shouted turned – shouting at her with venom in his voice.

For a second – Lúthriel stepped back, surprised by her twin’s behaviour, shocked would a better word. Right now – she did not see Dior, the twin she was born with or grew up, or shared fond memories, laughter, joy or cries. Every thing has been shred into pieces. So –instead she an obsession and a greed as if it were a person.

His eyes twitched – glaring at her with annoyance and hatred, it stung her heart. Dior never looked at her like before – there was never an ill emotion in his blue eyes. Even in the past whenever they had argued over nauglamír – specifically the silmaril, there was never these emotions.

There was shouting and arguments from both sides – even with Nimloth, his wife and Lúthriel’s sister in law – he never casted an ill emotion to cause hurt to one another.

“Dior, gwanunig – you know this is wrong. We shouldn’t become like this. The silmaril-”

“Are you siding with the enemy, Lúthriel?”

Lúthriel blinked in shocked as he hissed out her name. She frowned as she looked at her twin brother.

“Why would you think that?”

She shouted, there was a crack in her voice – hurt he would come to that conclusion.

“Then why are you so insistent – on returning this family’s Nauglamír to the enemy?”

His voice started low – before it raised at the end with roaring shout and it make her terrible and take another step back.

Lúthriel gasped and she looked at the unrecognizable ellon in front of her.

“This isn’t about the Nauglamír, but the silmaril – the one the Feanorians isn’t afraid to spill blood to take it-”

“The silmaril is part of the Nauglamír!”

Lúthriel let out a desperate cry as Dior did not understand her reasonings – there was a silent humorless chuckle from as her it reminded the elleth of the days she once argued with their grandfather Thingol about the silmaril.

Wasn’t Dior there for that? – How could he understand her reasonings then, but not now?

“Dior-”

“Do you even care for our parents Lúthriel?”

That question made Lúthriel’s breath catch her throat. She looked at him hurt and confusion – her heart clenched inside at the question and the tone of his voice, as if he was questioning a traitor.

“W-what. . .?”

Her voice carried her hurt – a single tear falling from her right hazel eye, the one she shared with Beren.

“The Nauglamír belongs to my parents! –Their memories live within in and I will not give it away!”

Lúthriel watched silently as Dior referred to their parents as only his – than theirs. Her heart clenching painfully tight inside her chest with each passing second.

Dior let out mocking laugh and shook his head.

“I thought you of all people, would have respected mother and father. . . Given that you were born immortal!”

He muttered in distaste and left her there.

Lúthriel knee’s shook and she suddenly crashed to the ground – the pain inside her making it impossible to stand upright.

Dior was right – she was born immortal and because of her powers preventing her from sailing West she most likely would never see them again. . . and now her own twin was questioning her affection and loyalty towards Lúthien and Beren, their parents.

In the distant – she could hear Nimloth shouting and screaming at Dior, yet still she chose to stand by him and fight, perhaps as a wife and mother, it was the only thing she can do, she thought.

But Lúthriel stayed put as silent heartbroken tears – she didn’t cry out. There was no sound from her, perhaps it was because of the shock – maybe it hadn’t fully registered to her head. . . or maybe it had and she did not what to believe anymore. . .

What were you to do when your own sibling, your own twin – whom was your best friend suddenly questioned your loyalty towards your parents. . .how were you supposed to respond to that. . .?

Lúthriel didn’t know how long she sat there – unmoving and unthinking. . . but she suddenly jolted up as the blood curdling scream of her sister in law echoed through the halls fallowed by the desperate cry of Elwing.

“Nana!” (Mom!).

With a sudden gasp for air – Lúthriel lifted herself off the ground and ran towards the screams.

“Nimloth! Elwing!”

She cried out – running through the long hall as fast at her feet could take her.

Lúthriel cried out in horror as she witnessed Nimloth slain on the ground – blooding out and staring at her with lifeless eyes.

“Nim. . .?”

She called – sitting beside the elleth she came to see so dearly as a sister.

“I am so sorry. . .”

Lúthriel cried – shaking her head and gently closing Nimloth’s eyes. She looked around worriedly as she saw no sign of her dear niece.

“I promise – I will give every thing in my power to save your children. . .even if it means my death.”

She whispered a promise as she held Nimloth’s hand for the last time.

Lúthriel then – quickly got up and searched for her dearest niece and nephews, dodging every sword that came her and knocking out anyone who stood in her path.

Her feet took her – it was as if she did not have any control over them or maybe they were trying to take her somewhere she desperately needed to be.

“Elwing!”

She called out – trying to find her. Lúthriel could have sworn she heard her. . .

“Elw-”

Lúthriel’s call was cut short as show a flash of a sword from the corner of her eyes – she turned just in time to see her twin beheading a ner of the Feanorians. The light-colored hair of silver. . .Celegorm?

She watched in horror; frozen in shock as he was beheaded through Dior’s hands – himself covered in blood with a madness in his eyes she had never seen. His hands trembled but he didn’t stop as another came forward to avenge Feanorian’s death.

Every cell in her body was unmoving it seems – was Lúthriel stood there unmovingand unblinking, perhaps even unbreathing as she watched Dior kill every one that came up against him.

This. . . – this wasn’t Dior. . . he w-wouldn’t kill. . . he wouldn’t. . .

Lúthriel took a step forward – foolishly thinking he would stop now if she pulled away from this.

But Dior was suddenly attacked – all the air left her lungs and her eyes widened as he fell to fall in agony, his back to her – never knowing she witnessed it.

Lúthriel couldn’t move as her eyes unbelieving watched as Dior fall – mortally wounded; he would no survive. She couldn’t even shout nor scream like she desperately wanted to – her body cruelly stayed there unmoving, not listening to commands she wanted it to follow.

It was when Dior laid on the ground unmoving did she realize – a part of herself died as well. . .her twin died and she felt it. . . felt it rippling through in shock and she wasn’t able to move because of that. . .

Lúthriel was felt to cruelly feel this death and stand unable to do anything – only witness it. . .

It wasn’t until something small and sharp spin through and cut the air – just narrowly messing the nerve to her neck was she finally about to break out of it.

She screamed through her gritted teeth as she held the side of neck – feeling a warm liquid until it and her hand.

When a dragger landed near her feet – she knew. . .

Lúthriel then desperately ran towards Dior lifelessly figure.

“Dior!”

She was finally able to sob out and she crashed to her knees beside him – shaking him to desperately to wake.

“No no! Please! Dior!”

Lúthriel cried out as she gathered his body into her arms and cradled him – like he did with her when the news of their parents’ death came.

Tears streamed down her face her like river and her whole body ached from her violent sobs that wreaked through her. She screamed out desperately remembered how he promised to only leave her only he was well into his 100s – but now he laid her dead in her arms when they were only 36.

“No! Please. . .”

Lúthriel felt something forging inside her – her emotions were circulating out of control as grief and pain overtook her. Something began to spiral out of control from deep inside her heart and the sounds of footsteps approaching her armed and ready to kill did not help it.

Instead – Lúthriel gazed into the sky, her body arched and let out scream that echoed through the forest as a huge surge of her powers flew out from insider her attacking every one within sights and knocking them off their feet and be thrown out from it.

Some unfortunate enough to die from the sudden attack of her powers – hitting themselves fast and hard against the walls or tree or landing on upturned weapons – an instant fall to death.

The sudden surge of her powers travelled throughout Menegroth and faded into forests of Doriath the effect there not as strongly as in the center of the city.

Once the large surge of her powers finally left – she hugged her lifeless twin – crying as she realized she not see him again. . . not unless these powers could be extracted from her and she could gain mortality. . .

oc taglist: @doodle-pops @aeonianarchives @mismaeve @fizzyxcustard

@theladyvanya and @saurons-flaming-eye incase either of you are interested :)

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