The Hobbit and LOTR Imagines

Reach Out To Me (Celebrimbor x Reader)

Celebrimbor was requested by Toxic_Blood_Rain I hope you like it friend, I tried my hardest. Imagine being in Gwaith-i-Mirdain (Brotherhood of Jewel-smiths) with Celebrimbor. He saves you from falling one day, and an unlikely friendship ensues.

Jewels and precious metals are fascinating, without a doubt.

So many hues and shades, textures and densities, cuts and shapes.

And magical properties.

They never failed to capture your attention, and your ability to manipulate them was notable. Crafts, in fact, were your specialty. It gave you no small amount of joy to make something stunning, and with your own two hands.

Some may say you loved it too much, but you disagreed. At least you weren't as bad as Celebrimbor. No one would dare speak ill of him, for he was the greatest craftsmen after his grandfather Feanor, but his pride for his crafts was unparalleled.

So much so, he founded Gwaith-i-Mirdain (Brotherhood of Jewel-smiths). It was prestigious, and everyone in all the kingdom knew of it. And you, just so happened to be the only female member. You called yourselves the Mirdain, and it was an interesting life. When one lives thousands of years, whatever they choose to do, becomes what they're best at.

Sometimes.

It had been a quiet day, and for some reason you were the only one at the forge. You were working on a crown of significant importance, as it was for Galadriel. The metal needed bending, and that needed heat. So there you were, hammering away. Finally finished, you stepped back to take a look at your work.

Apparently, too far back.

You slipped on a loose stone and fell over the edge of a cliff, one that possessed a far drop, and molten lava at the bottom to boot.

Your scream was almost not loud enough because a certain Elf, who happened to be approaching, could barely hear you. You hung on by the skin of your teeth, and imagined the fiery death that awaited you below.

Suddenly, a face appeared over the side of the ledge.

"Help me! Help me please!" you pleaded.

A white hand shot out, and you realized who it was.

Celebrimbor.

"Grab my hand!" he replied.

You tried, but felt yourself slip more and panicked.

"I-I can't. I'm going to fall!" you claimed.

"You won't. Trust me," he said calmly, "Reach out to me."

You carefully reached up to him, and once his hand closed around yours, he pulled you up and over to safety. You rolled over and laid down for a second, breathing deeply and trying regain your nerve. Once you did sit up, you were met with amber eyes.

"Are you alright?" he asked coolly, "one might think an Elf would be a bit more graceful."

You stared at him in exasperation. Really? After almost falling to your death he was going to take a crack at you?

"Yes, I am fine. Thank you very much," you replied, "and I suppose I should watch where I step next time, I'll think of that when you eventually slip on this loose gravel and sit where I do."