Blinded by Love (Glorfindel x Reader)
“You have his eyes.”
“His hair.”
“His ears.”
“I was like no shit he’s my father lady,” you wheeze as you fall into another laughing fit with Rog. You both had been going at it for hours now. The conversation that had started with assigning forge duties was now nowhere near its intended goal.
This would not have bothered anyone in the city of Gondolin. Your friendship with the red-haired lord of the House of the Hammer of the Wrath was not a secret to anyone. Your friendship was natural like that of metal and fire. You both had for ages bonded over your beloved art of smithing.
However, one was bothered by it. Immensely bothered as he watched you double over with laughter with another lord that was not him. The lord of the House of the Golden Flower had never before felt such emotions.
Glorfindel was joy and mirth reincarnate, or so many told him. He was pleasant to talk to, born with the skill of the Noldor and the patience of the Vanyar. A golden-haired dream in the city of Gondolin.
Many looked his way with envy, many tried to woo him with clever words, some offered him confessions of true love. Yet, it did not sway him. He smiled at them, thanked them but always ended such advances with a curt refusal.
He had gone to such lengths waiting for you. If on occasions when he dressed up a little more extravagantly, his eyes always wandered to you. Yearning for your gaze and your attention. He would search for you only to find you next to Rog, laughing at whatever amusement found its way to you. In those moments he allowed himself to imagine being there with you, he craved being a part of your smiles. But he did not make a move other than that.
Your love story was stuck at an impasse in the battle of wills. You stay oblivious to all his attempts, or so he thinks, and he remains bound by the fear of rejection.
Ecthellion raises his brow in amusement as he watches the merry golden-haired lord frown at the empty walls as if they had offended him with the most wretched curses. The Lord of the Fountains knows that it was not the walls but pair of cackling goofs that caused his friend to act equally stupid.
Glorfindel scowls and it goes unnoticed by all but Ecthellion. If you can call pouting miserably a scowl.
Had Ecthellion not been so busy analyzing his friend's expressions, had Glorfindel not been so busy glaring at empty walls they would have caught the snippet of your conversation with Rog. A hushed whisper that made you swat the red-haired lord’s shoulder.
They would have noticed the smug look on Rog’s face as he wiggled his eyebrows at you.
“You seem to be awfully fond of forging golden flowers these days my fri-” they would have heard had you not muffled Rog’s words with your hands.
But alas, it goes unnoticed much to your relief.
Another day ends with the most frustrating love story witnessed by Rog and Ecthellion.
Love : 1
Glorfindel : 0
You : 0