High King Gil-galad

Truly! With an ego such as Sauron had, I can think of no more satisfying fantasy than one of imagining the beast being mocked.

*Ereinion bows his head, placing the wine on a nearby table.* A bold red wine &an equally-bold sm--/romance/ novel always go hand-in-hand. *He totally just cut himself off from saying 'smut', not 'romance' ((🤣)).*

Ah, yes. Fair play. I admit, I'm not a fan myself, but perhaps I could learn to be...

'Despising and laughing'... fantastic children, I must say.

+a heaviness to Ereinion's tone that Elrond isn't wholly familiar with.* It... relieves me, though, to hear you say that you still think of your duty; of your people; of Lindon. I know that your heart is still young, and a young heart newly in love is a powerful thing. I feared losing you to Mordor.

There is no urgency to return. *Ereinion reaches across the table to rest his hand atop Elrond's, the warmth of their long, long friendship palpable in the touch.* I will likely be returning to Lindon--briefly--after this visit to Minas Morgul, but I /can/ manage on my own. *He teases, but there's+

*Enters the gazebo with a bottle of wine in one arm, three books tucked under the other.* Apologies for my tardiness--picking one bottle was hard enough, but one book, as you can see: impossible.

... 'Enemies to lovers'. Hm... did you choose this to target @adaristired.bsky.social & my dear herald?

+Laithrûn's ear, allowing his fingertips to brush against Laithrûn's neck as he pulled his hand away.* ... Unless this is a dream--/my/ dream, and I am, in fact, back in my room, sleeping soundly.

*His answer to whether he wants more help he whispers, that boyish smile back.* Oh, don't stop /now/.

Oh? What manner of dream? *Ereinion visibly relaxed at Laithrûn's acceptance of his apology. He fought against his desire to focus on the kiss.* 'Dream' implies that you at least fared better than I--sleep eluded /me/ entirely.

*Perhaps emboldened by relief, Ereinion tucked a strand of hair behind+

+*He smiles, though Elrond knows him well enough: the High King is especially tense.*

I... wished to breach a... difficult subject, as it were. Ernil's party, obviously, wasn't the right time, and finding you alone has been a challenge. I simply wanted to ask--Elrond, will you be... remaining here?

*Ereinion takes the invitation to sit, enjoying the familiarity of Elrond's rambling, the sound of the younger Elf's voice filling the otherwise-stillness of the library.* Lliira is a gracious host indeed; perhaps we shall have to set aside a day for library visits, then? Lover of books as we are.+

((ooc: THANK U EVERYONE FOR UR PATIENCE WAITING ON GIL FOR REPLIES I'm just adjusting to some schedule changes irl and it killed my writing muse 😑

but I WILL BE WRITING.....TODAY!!)

As the first members, I can already feel that this will be such a wonderfully passionate group! Will we be having weekly discussions, Ernil? Perhaps... over sweets and coffee?

Oh, this is such a delightful idea! May I join in?

Oh, I didn't expect you to be hiding. *Ereinion tilts the book in Elrond's hands to be able to read the title. The half-Elf seems to be drowning himself in something historical, of course.* I /expected/ you to be attached to Adar's hip. It has been a challenge to find you alone.

... May we speak?

+*Despite the seriousness of the subject, Ereinion still seems intent on this swim. Finally freeing Laithrûn's wrist, he shrugs his robes off, bare now from the waist up.*

I did not wish to lie, even if that lie was a small one. I apologize for the untruth; I do not wish you to think me cowardly.

+this evening, the dance, and... *He hesitates, looking for the right words. Laithrûn's wrist is still in his grip, his thumb pressed against Laithrûn's pulse.* ... I fear that you have me quite spellbound; I could not rest for thought of you. Still, that is no excuse for subterfuge, nor stalking.+

*Ereinion's body is very well-lived in: besides the raised scars--some of which Laithrûn realizes are rather extreme burns--there is no doubt that Ereinion's skin is sun-kissed, tanned & rough, very unlike what one would think of for an Elf, let alone the High King of Elves.*

I wished to discuss+

+impressive libraries.*

Elrond! /There/ you are. I should have known to look for you here, once I had run out gardens to search. If it isn't flowers holding your attention, it will be /books/.

a person 's finger is pointing to a book titled " hundertjahrgeschichte " ALT: a person 's finger is pointing to a book titled " hundertjahrgeschichte "

*A few days after Ernil's party, Ereinion goes on a hunt to find @elrondoflindon.bsky.social, as the two Elves spend time in Minas Morgul.

After what feels like an Age of wandering, Ereinion finally stumbles upon the younger Elf, Elrond appearing engrossed in exploring one of the castle's+

+chance. I could not sleep, and I... followed you. I apologize; I merely wanted to speak with you, but that is no excuse to stalk after you in silence, to not properly announce myself. *He is still holding Laithrûn's wrist, allowing the other's deft hands to remain hovering near his trousers.*

+Laithrûn is interrupted by strong fingers encircling one of their wrists, Ereinion's grip gentle, yet firm. Such an easy display of strength could be exciting, if one was inclined to such things ((👀)).*

... Laithrûn... I fear that I must confess; I've misled you, saying that I found you here by+

+is watching Laithrûn strip him with an unreadable expression, though his dark eyes appear even more hypnotic in the waning moonlight.* How ever could I have done this without your aid?

*He's still teasing, playing helpless. There's that flirty boyishness again, a prince used to getting his way.+

*With each bit of skin revealed, Laithrûn can see that Ereinion has the body of a warrior, with fat covering muscle, his chest and abdomen both soft and hard to the touch. Laithrûn's sharp nails find raised scars here & there, unhealed despite time spent in Mandos. Was that by choice?

Ereinion+

+I would love your help, 《Adul》. Would you please help me? *Oh, he's playing a dangerous game, isn't he?*

(('old man/'old one'))

+with the neckline of his robe, which looks like it cost more to make than any amount of gold Laithrûn has ever seen. It's a soft rose-gold color, made of heavy satin, to keep one warm. As Ereinion touches the robe, he pulls it slightly, revealing a bare patch of skin: his collarbone & shoulder.*+

+Too much heavy armor, when you're a knight; too much sweating.

*Ereinion has a poker face, & he's grateful for it now. Laithrûn is shameless & beautiful, & Ereinion can't quite decide where he wants to look most. So, he looks at the lake, instead. Is he being coy?*

Oh, yes, actually. *He fiddles+

*There is always that stoicism, but Ereinion's concern, though mostly passed, softened him, & warmed him, a beacon in the early morning still-dark, a flame to draw Laithrûn in.* I fear I would have made a terrible knight. *He teases, watching Laithrûn with increasing intensity as they undress.*+

+Ereinion is taking in just how little Laithrûn is wearing, shamelessly enjoying the show. The mystery of not knowing the High King's intention is /just/ a little exciting.*

If you believe you are up for a swim, then, certainly--though I /will/ play the hero if I notice your condition worsening.

*Ereinion moves his hand away, brow still furrowed in concern.* Fine, I shall take your word. You do look... bothered, though, if I had to name it. *Laithrûn has no way of knowing if Ereinion's eyes are wandering all over their form out of worry, looking for some injury or show of hurt, or, if+

+place the back of his hand on Laithrûn's forehead.* I would escort you back inside, if you need--?