Tolkien Elven Imagines and Headcanons Volume 1

156. Gwindor - Wilting Confidence

Gwindor x Reader

2.1k words

* * *

Dinner had been a rather quiet affair for both you and Gwindor, while usually that was a nice and comfortable silence between the two of you. When it was a dinner with his fellow councilmen it had become a quiet dinner of concern. Work clearly carried over into the dinner despite the wives and husbands present, leaving for most of you to sit in silence as they discussed work matters.

Mormegil mostly being the reason for this, as Gwindor whispered to you that this had been a matter he had been fighting against Mormegil over. Open warfare against the Dark Vala. It came as no surprise that your husband would vehemently and calmly argue against such tactics, he was living proof of what could be expected to happen should it be done again. He was lucky proof for being able to escape.

Though quickly the dinner soured as Gwindor once more put his bid in against Mormegil, the council making slights against your husband. Making mention of his inability to even fight against the Dark Vala so why would he add in input... Even going as far to mention how he wouldn't even be able to protect you if it came down to it.

It was incredibly unfair yet as you opened your mouth to say something, Gwindor placed his good hand on your thigh. A signal to stop you... Leaving for you two to dine together in silence. You had half expected Mormegil to say something in defense of him, as your husband held a love for him even despite all that befell him because of Mormegil's presence. Yet he said nothing, only seemingly high on hubris at the council's praise.

Gwindor's shoulders had slumped, his gray hair seemingly more dull, and those fine lines seemingly more visible as he furrowed his brows. His expression was one of exhaustion and lament... And now you had witnessed first hand how quick the other councilmen had been to use his disability against him. Rather than listening to his experience and wisdom with such things, and while you knew Mormegil had good intentions...

You despised him for the council was far more ready to listen to him than Gwindor. Just as quickly did they turn on him and take it all out on him... He had mentioned before that they used his disability against him. You could only imagine what other slights they made against him when you weren't present for such things.

Your walk back to your room had still been that of silence, Gwindor's expression still crestfallen and disappointed and you could only imagine what was running through his mind. Though you kept your questions to yourself, until you were in the privacy of your room... As soon as the door opened and Gwindor stepped in he was quick to move to the couch to sit before the hearth.

His hand covering his mouth as he rested his elbow against the arm of the couch, eyes transfixed on the fire before himself. Gently you shut the door, and quietly moved to take your place next to him, placing your hand on his bad wrist. Letting your finger gently rub against the soft skin that was exposed, barely pulling Gwindor from his thoughts.

"Gwindor..." You breathed out softly turning more to face him, he only hummed out to acknowledge you. Frowning softly, your brought a hand up to gently tuck some of his gray hair behind his ear, watching as Gwindor closed his eyes for a moment at the gentle affection.

"What is on your mind?" You breathed out softly to him, tilting your head some as you investigated him. For a long moment there was only the sound of the fire crackling and popping in the hearth that filled the room as you waited patiently for him to answer. Before finally Gwindor seemed to double over some on his self so dramatically, his arm resting on his elbow and good hand cradling his face.

Concern quickly filled you and you all but jumped into his lap as you scooted closer, bringing a hand to his back and a hand to his wrist,

"My love... what is the matter?" You asked quickly, as it was so rare Gwindor let himself be so openly emotional before you. Usually it was you he leaned on you quietly, not giving way to his fear or wearing only mild worry on his face or a gentle frown... You could hear the shaky breath he took and you heard the plip of tears beginning to fall into his lap. Your heart twisted tightly in your chest, waiting impatiently for his answer on baited breath.