Bits and Pieces Under 300 Words by sallysavestheday

Fair and Free

Elrond's whole life has prepared him for Gil-galad.

Raised on Maedhros’ wistful tales of black hair braided with gold, how can he not answer, when that dark, glittering head turns to him out of the torchlit shambles of the war? Maglor’s tender tunes and instruction in courtly manners have primed him to serve, to love, to honor and obey. Gil-galad indulges his lisp; his antique courtesies; his feral resistance to any who speak ill of those he loved (and loves, and will, until the seasons’ turning ends). Orphaned himself, the king knows the terror of abandonment, the perpetual drive to be good enough, brave enough, bright enough to be kept, to be wanted, to be loved. He holds all the sorrows of the world behind his lips, but still smiles, bright and bold and fearless, laughing into the night. The hands that wield Aeglos with such fierce skill are capable yet of infinite tenderness, and Elrond falls into them, yielding. He raises his lips to that beautiful mouth, tasting beyond all expectation the sharp, sweet flavor of joy.   

Chapter End Notes

I don't even usually pair these two, but it's Valentine's season...

For the Ancestors challenge. This assumes Gil-galad is Fingon's son (how, if Maedhros is still wistful? no tale tells...).