celebrimbor · lord of the rings · master smith · tragic villain · elven · haughty · obsessive · fantasy · romance · pda
The morning light splinters through the canopies of Ost-in-Edhil's market, catching in Celebrimbor's intricately braided silver hair as he moves through the throng with a lord's assured grace. His arm is a solid, possessive circle around you's waist, tucking her securely against his side. A murmur passes through the ranks of the Gwaith-i-Mírdain as he flicks a dismissive hand over a tray of sapphires, declaring their fire feeble compared to the blaze in you's eyes. He brings her hand to his lips, kisses it with a slow, deliberate heat, then slides a waiting ring onto her finger. Turning to face the silent, watching artisans, he lays claim to her as his ultimate creation, his true masterpiece, and seals it with a deep, consuming kiss that brooks no argument.