10 | 'Just Gil-Galad's Court'

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Location: Imladris, Middle Earth

Time: June 2941 T.A

He was not up for today.

In fact, it was the worst time for them to arrive today.

Elrond had slept through the alcohol with a minor headache despite the strength of Thranduil's concoction. If he was this much in a mood this morning, he was afraid of how groggy and moody Illyria Strange was. The race of men were not ones with the strength of alcohol, often getting drunk faster than any other species in Middle Earth.

So yes, he expected her not to arrive at breakfast this time – with only Glorfindel and Erestor as his company whilst Lindir bustled about to prepare for the arrivals of the Lady of the Golden Wood. Though not only just the fair elven lady of Lothlorien but also the White Wizard, Saruman. His dear friend Círdan could not make it in time for the note to call in the members of the White Council had been rushed, all because of Mithrandir's message. [1]

He couldn't deny that he was suspicious, and also paranoid at the Ithron's call. After what Thorin Oakenshield showed him, and now waiting for the right moon to show the map's secrets to them: Elrond was highly suspicious. Even more so, that the truth of Illyria Strange possibly being Elemmírë of Gondolin was now in part.

Oh, he totally messed up last night. A hundred and ten per cent. And now Illyria Strange was now edging closer and closer to the truth at the fastest rate as possible.

So went his plan to ease her back into their lives. Now it would seem it would make her push away if word got around that he knew her closer than just a close friend to her and Glorfindel. He wanted her to start remembering slowly, let her remind her of the feelings of what it was like to be around elves: to allow her to adjust.

In a way, his supposed plan was to also ease him into the new character of Illyria. Illyria Strange: the sorceress of a world that was far more advanced than theirs, where no elf walked their own world but only humans themselves. (She mentioned several characters that questioned him, such as a talking raccoon and unknown gods from other planets but he brushed it aside to file it in his mind and speak of it later). Not only she was a sorceress, but she was a sort of scholar: conducting her own research about the stars and the planets in the skies.

How such impossible things Elrond once believed: could actually be truly possible in his world?

It was as if his mind had widened again, seeing another side that he had yet seen. The elves who once dwelt in Aman during the Years of the Trees always said that seeing the trees and their light almost opened their mind and fëa in some way – broadening their possibilities and emotions. Like the elves, Illyria Strange spoke of her time learning magic since birth much like that.

When she spoke, Illyria had the emotion of wonder and passion: speaking about her family and her work and magic. There were moments she would hesitate, choosing her words carefully as she changed the subject from her family members to something of another memory.

For him, it had mended some part of Elrond's heart. To see the light in her eyes, with no pain or horror in them. Despite knowing Elemmírë for over three ages, it was difficult to spot this in her. Yes, there were moments that she would burst into utter happiness or to a small tint. But time and war had made Elemmírë choose when to shine her light too.

Unlike her, who didn't know how much joy and power she brought even just at her presence.

One thing he did worry about was the other light that would arrive in just a couple of hours.

As he wandered his office just an hour before the expected arrival, he stopped to look at the pendant placed on the desk. Elrond carefully picked it up and inspected its features and let himself smile at the fond memory of it. He was surprised Illyria didn't spot it hidden under the drawer along with her journal. There were more things which Elemmírë kept after her passing, though now they were secured down by the inner atrium, placed in front of her statue which he commissioned. That comprised of her sword and armour, untouched by time and kept new in his request.

They both gave a promise to each other many ages ago. He would follow on with it no matter what.

Lady Galadriel arrived at the front courtyard along with her own guard. The familiar banners of Lothlorien billowed in the gentle breeze as he stood at the top of the staircase with his head held high. Beside him was Lindir and Erestor, both fixated at their spot as he headed down the steps to greet the Lady of the Wood.

He was met by the lady herself, her flowing platinum hair flowing down her back in tresses of waves. Her light still shone as bright as before, with an air of mystery and power that only some may go up against.

Some would include Elemmírë. And by how he knew Illyria's character by now, it would seem it will go down that path.

Elrond did what he could to put the worry aside, welcoming Lady Galadriel to Imladris before escorting her up to the house. Lindir followed suit to instruct the other guests with their horses whilst Erestor hurried beside him to prepare for luncheon with their new guests. He had hoped to ask Lady Galadriel to have a word with him in his study afterwards, deciding by both him, Glorfindel and Illyria that it would be best for her to meet the Lady of the Wood.

And from Galadriel's gazes at lunch, and how Estel continued to speak about what his son and Illyria have been doing the past few days: Elrond could not keep it hidden. Not under the guise of Galadriel especially.

He hoped this will turn out right.

Or else, he might as well have the house burn due to a bunch of dwarves.

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She hated hangovers. God, she regretted drinking that glass of wine.

If she went back to Earth, she was going to bring a bunch of alcoholic beverages for Elrond and Glorfindel to try. Maybe tequila, or perhaps gin and tonic. She'll definitely bring some vodka; nothing can go wrong with some good old Russian water to down after being told she was a reincarnated elf.

Thinking of reincarnated elves, or whoever she was, she had not looked at the book (or now journal since it was hers, to begin with) since last night. Illyria wasn't sparing any more sudden visions during the day since her head really needed a self-quarantine before getting into the nitty-gritty bits of her past. Plus, the temptation to want to know was rather stable, especially when she was not in the mood for dwarves today and decided to hide up near the waterfall to meditate for the entire morning.

Her luck came to her since she didn't have to bump into anyone this time around. She heard from several elves that Lady Galadriel was arriving in a few hours, and from what Glorfindel and Elrond said: they hoped to have a hearing from her.

From them, it seemed she had something of a history with her.

Illyria sat down on the hard ground, hearing the rushing waters behind her as she looked at the valley down below. It will be one more day here until she knew she needed to leave with the Company once more. But a reminder prevented her from pursuing this.

And that was the White Council.

(Why was it called the White Council? Was it because white was good? That might have some questions if this existed in 21st Century Earth.)

That was one thing she did not tell Elrond about, knowing well that he would probably drag her along for the sake of her own knowledge. (Or maybe push her away, either way: anything Elrond suggests tended to be good 99% of the time.) But Illyria knew that if she went there, she would be risking herself in being in the same room as Saruman the White.

Ah, Saruman the White.

Not one of her favourite wizards. Even the blue wizards might run as third place.

Also known as that traitorous Istar motherfucker that betrayed not only the Valar but Middle Earth as a whole. [2]

Just because Sauron gave him a better deal at the auction of ruling an entire continent someday doesn't mean you're doing something right. As Darcy once said to her, coupons aren't always the most practical thing to pay less. Not that Sauron gave Saruman some coupons. Maybe a gift card or something. He might be a gift card sort of person; how would she know?

Anyways, Illyria meditated.

She meditated for gosh knows how long until she sensed a mind approach her from the steps. As she opened her eyes, she floated her body down to the ground before standing up – glancing over to a shocked Bilbo Baggins with his mouth open. Bless him, he should probably close his mouth before he catches a fly.

"My word you are floating. How can you do that?" The hobbit gaped at her.

Illyria wanted to say that it was just special effects but that might just end Bilbo Baggins.

Picking up her staff, she stretched her arms out and yawned. "A lot of practice." She greeted him, "I'm surprised you found me."

"I went to knock on your door, but you weren't there. I asked Miriel and she said you either went to Nala or up here," He answered. "And by Yavanna you don't look so good."

Illyria snorted, "That's what being hungover gets you." She slid down to the edge of the cliff, sitting as her legs dangled out and then patted the empty spot next to her.

With carefulness, Bilbo sat down beside her and questioned, "Why were you drinking last night?"

"To drown my problems," Illyria responded.

He asked, "And with who?"

"My problems."

"Illyria." Bilbo frowned, unamused by her joke. "You know that's not what I meant."

A snort came from her nose as she yawned, "It's true. No cap, no lie." Illyria sighed and leaned back with her arms at her side. "I just had some lovely revelations which I'm going to have to approach Gandalf with. Unfortunately, the Valar might strike down at me if I decide to go and hunt Gandalf down for lying to me."

Her eyes glanced upwards to the sky, imagining some godly figure wearing a white toga and laurel crown on their brow carrying an animated lightning bolt – tossing it at her like some lasso as they burnt her into toast. Not exactly the right depiction of what she imagined the Valar or even Zeus, but the symbolism was spot on. They will definitely go and rip her insides apart if Gandalf didn't do it first.

It was his fault anyway! The sneaky wizard-boi thought hiding about who she was could make things smoother for her, now she was trying her best to expel every inch of her mismanaged anger and betrayal in the form of sarcasm. (To be honest, it had been much like this since she and Darcy met so it was not a surprise.) It wasn't because of him hiding it, it was mostly the fact that she had high expectations from him.

She blamed his grandpa façade.

But then again, most of the masters in Kamar-Taj were secretly gossipers.

"With what?" Bilbo echoed back.

She slumped her back to the ground with a thud. "The truth." Her free hand slapped her forehead as she closed her eyes and groaned, "I wish Darcy was here, or Uncle Wong or Tony or Harley. They would know what to do."

There, she felt the homesickness appear. Well, it had been almost two months since she arrived in Middle Earth. An ordinary human would have already had a panic attack after a few days, depending on how their tolerance is to new environments. Most people tended to group around those who are familiar with what they initially were accustomed to but living in Nepal in a magical sanctuary had brought immunity to Illyria.

Even then, it did not mean she missed Earth. She missed her family. Her own family, not Elemmírë's. Glorfindel was...well he was Glorfindel. But even from her faint memories, it felt that she could not depict any proper moments that truly showed he was her brother – only the faint feeling when she spoke or was around him. Heck, she didn't even know his favourite colour, but she suspected it was probably blue or gold.

And not because Erestor wore the same colour.

Yeah, she needed to find the time to question her new brother's way in pining for crushes. Because pestering Elrond's advisor and librarian when he should be out training doesn't count.

Was she comparing Imladris to a high school drama show?

If she was, Illyria hoped it was High School Musical. [3]

Illyria opened her eyes and squinted her eyes from the sunlight, staring upwards. "Bilbo, do you think it's possible?" She wondered.

"What?" He asked.

She murmured, "To remember your past life?"

Bilbo gave a sidelong glance at her and began, "Well..." However, he had stopped for some reason and looked to his right.

Illyria felt another mind in their presence and rose from her spot, standing up with her staff in her hand. When she was done dusting her robes, she was met by an elf in his usual guard uniform.

Bowing, the elf informed her: "Lady Illyria, Lord Elrond asks for your presence."

Illyria's eyes lit up and smiled with thanks to the elf. On the other hand, Bilbo waved her off, deciding to give himself some more time to himself. Don't we all love some self-care? So, she wished Bilbo a good and mentioned, "Make sure the boys aren't causing any trouble. If so, probably tell Thorin or Lindir."

After she arrived back at the house, she placed her staff back into her dimension pocket and wiped her boots and robes from any remnants of dirt, grass, and dust. She was going to go meet the Lady of the Golden Wood; Illyria had to look her best. It wasn't really helping when she looked much like an extra from Walking Dead, dark circles marking her lack of sleep and tired body. Meditation can only give her much to physically appear alive.

As she braided her hair on the way to his office, Illyria mentally prepared herself for what was to come. She hoped it would turn out well. With what the two elves told her; she was beginning to become nervous. She hadn't been this nervous ever since presenting her dissertation. That involved too many mints and not enough flashcards to hide her face behind.

'Okay, chillax Strange.' She said to herself. 'You're the daughter of the Sorcerer Supreme, a sorceress herself and a total badass. You can do this.' Her hand went to knock on the door three times before she heard his voice order her to enter.

When she peered her eyes in front of her, she gulped down the nerves and looked around the room. She carefully shut the door behind her, before walking over to the three figures.

"You asked for me, Elrond," Illyria said aloud before her eyes fell before him.

She can sense Glorfindel standing just a few feet on her left, leaning against the columns whilst the new mind almost rocked her from her feet.

Standing right next to Elrond was perhaps the brightest elf she had seen. And she wasn't exaggerating this at all. Most of the elves glowed, with the brighter ones being Glorfindel and Elrond. But this elf: she was a beacon.

Elrond gestured to the platinum-haired lady who now stared at her shock. He said, "Illyria, may I introduce to you Lady Galadriel."

Illyria stared at the elven woman, suddenly feeling her head grow dizzy.

"...Elemmírë." She breathed a tone that lined with disbelief.

Out of nowhere, Illyria echoed back. "Artanis."

And then her vision turned white.

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The couple approached the end of the grand hall in which several chairs were perched, enclaved around. In the centre was a grand chair, a throne, with whom a figure of dark black hair sat – a golden crown upon his brow – head held up high like any leader should do. He was adorned in robes of royal blue, the colours of the Noldorin kings of the past.

Sat next to his side was his confidant and friend, the young son of Eärendil and Elwing, with his own stature brought by wisdom at such a young age. He wore similar colours to his king, instead, he wore a silver circlet contrasted by his own dark hair and reflected the steely gaze of his grey eyes.

Both shared their solemn expressions, greeting the two who approached – with one radiating more than the other. The one that was known as the Lady of Light, once an apprentice of Melian the Maia of Doriath. Her hair was exactly like the stories told them of, neither one colour of blonde nor silver but of both, depending on how the light caught its reflection through her hair. But it was not only her hair that glowed but her face. There was power and radiance, a beauty that can't be comprehended other than of Lúthien herself. [4] The air that once was calm was now brought with utter light and peace.

Besides the Lady of Light was the Fief of Harlindon, a Sindar elf who carried his own authority and wisdom in his person. His own silver hair was simply braided, straight down and neat as his own green robes which were lined in soft white fur. Though, unlike his wife, he was cautious and attentive at the hosts in front of them, his eyes wandering over to elf sat on the other side of the High King of the Noldor.

Some might say that it was the Lady of Light that brought a magical aura in the great hall, but nothing could be said more than the Lady of the Golden Flower.

The Eternal, a name that has been whispered throughout the lands of Middle Earth after the end of the great war. When one's eyes looked at her, she appeared to look simple, perhaps far out of place. Her blonde hair braided tightly back, keeping her face and ears shown. Her robes were a mix of blues and dark reds, paired to anyone's shock with brown boots unlike the other elven advisors around them. Covering her hands were a pair of dark navy gloves, hiding her callous hands as they were perched upon her lap.

However, whilst the Lady of Light's presence brought peace in the atmosphere, The Eternal brought power. Raw and natural power that unnerved those that didn't dwell in her presence. Her beauty was brought was an ethereal explosion, bringing joy but also fear to those in front.

And it was why both the Lady of Light and The Eternal felt the song grow unhinged; a discordance in the planes of physical and astral as their powers first met and treaded into uncharted waters. Whilst the Lady of Light's flame burned softly like a star, The Eternal's was like a sun, shining upon the darkest skies as she merely sat there, an ever-growing discomfort.

"Welcome, Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel." The High King greeted them. "It has been some time that we have met."

Lord Celeborn placed his hand over his heart and nodded his head. "We thank you for your welcome, Gil-Galad." He continued, "My Lady and I hope to discuss with you some terms."

Ereinion Gil-Galad held his arm in a gesture. "Speak, my friend. What of your wishes."

"It has come to our knowledge that my people now seek for our own place," Lord Celeborn began. "Many years have we settled here in the far West of Middle Earth, dwelling amongst your kin. However, wariness and unsettlement have been lingering in our people. We believe it is our time to move on, to bring my people to their own lands."

A sense of mixed shock and dread crawled around the room, with many faces growing nervous whilst others stared at the Sindar elf with simmering anger.

Whereas for the High King, Gil-Galad sat with his jaw tight. Composed as he was taught to be, he answered back with preparedness: "Forgive me that I have yet to understand your inquiry, but our people have been in peace for many decades now. Lindon has prospered due to the unification of our peoples." He stared at the Sindar elf and continued, "We cannot be divided when our population is low."

"We will not be divided," Lord Celeborn firmly spoke. "Our people will still be linked through many aspects, such as the case of the secondborn in Númenor as well as those that are of Oropher's people." [5]

Gil-Galad frowned at the mention of the former Sindar King. Oropher had once dwelt in Lindon for many years, recovering from the great war. And despite it all, and the proposition both he, Círdan and Celeborn made: the Sindar King declined all chances of uniting the races. There was no love for the Sindar to the Noldor, all because of one house that brought it all down.

"I cannot confirm now your request, Lord Celeborn," Gil-Galad answered. "Our people are still shaken since the downfall of Beleriand and the War."

Lord Celeborn's rage was growing, hidden by his own discipline. "And what of Celebrimbor. He was allowed to establish his hold in Eriador." [6]

The name strung a chord to the Lady of Light. She had not yet heard from her half-cousin in many years, often strayed due to the stigma around their own family. Which as a result, brought her to feel remorse to the young elf in the line of Fëanor.

Another in the room had also mixed feelings, specifically The Eternal who sat in guilt by Gil-Galad's side. She had once known the older elven lord during his time in Gondolin, often discovering her joy in conversing with Telperinquar as he tinkered and created. Their friendship grew onwards, with the latter expressing his love to her whilst The Eternal herself only loved him as much as any of their kin would.

The two elven ladies stayed silent as the son of Eärendil and Elwing mediated the subject. "Celebrimbor was given time and arrangement to move his guild to Eregion during the entire course. We were not able to establish much since his decision therefore had no time to set any negotiations."

Lord Celeborn spoke flatly, "Tell me, King Gil-Galad. You set yourself to protect and serve your people." His eyes then darted to the lady on the High King's side. "And yet you allow those whose pasts that are tainted by red to sit amongst your guarded side. I must say you have no shame."

The room went dead silent, all eyes flowing in the direction of the blonde elven woman. Her face gone cold, frozen at her spot as she stared at both Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel.

To her luck, Gil-Galad cleared his throat and answered for her: "Lady Elemmírë has earned her place as my advisor during the last years of the war. Her knowledge and advice are extensive, having been brought up in part of former King Turgon's court, the former High King of our people." He continued, "She has only been a value to the people of Lindon as well as a key ambassador to both Eregion and Númenor ." [7][8]

Lord Celeborn's eyes narrowed, "And also to the dwarves." He said with disgust, "Or have you not all forgotten that not only she has allied with dwarves but also the Feanorians as well?"

The High King was starting to become impatient, unpleased by Lord Celeborn's change of subject. "Lady Elemmírë was held hostage under the Feanorians after the Sack of Sirion. She was their hostage for many years until she came to escort the sons of Eärendil and Elwing to me." He corrected, "I believe it is not correct to speak of her when our subject involves your people, Lord Celeborn." [9]

They expected for the Sindar elf to retaliate, but in fact, it was the Lady of Light next to her who stood forward and gazed her eyes at The Eternal.

"But you were not, weren't you Lady Elemmírë." Lady Galadriel imposed. "Neither Lord Elrond nor Lady Elemmírë was entirely against their will under the Feanorians. In fact, I believe that it was what drove their plan to rescue you, am I correct, Lady Elemmírë and Lord Elrond?"

The Eternal curled her fingers into a ball, trying to sense some serenity in her breaths. She could sense Elrond's eyes looking back at her, silently pleading in his head for her not to speak out of turn. He was always the best mediator between him and Elros, the negotiator. She had always thanked him for keeping her emotions at bay, letting her choose to relax than lash out like a burst of light.

But as the words processed into her head, she could feel the heat in her chest warm up. Anger that was never brought unless something like this would trigger it like a switch. Much like the former Lord of Gondolin, Elemmírë matched the temper of her brother's: sourced by long periods of calmness before a raging blaze would burst.

No one truly knew what occurred between her and the two eldest sons of Fëanor, often running around in rumours of their hostage. And how the cause of her choice to not bond with an elf was due to a possible defilement from them. That was plain bullshit, and it upset her and angered Elrond and Elros that their kind would think of their dearest friend like that.

But in a way, perhaps not revealing the truth of what occurred between her, the twins and the Feanorians was the cause of the stigma. Her defending them in front of not only her people but also Eärendil and Eönwë themselves who only thought of the twins and her to have been taken against their own will. She tried her best to prove that they have changed, along with Elrond and Elros help (and Elros' hooked fist) that Maedhros and Maglor had changed.

However, it all fell apart once the Silmarils returned.

Elemmírë couldn't deny it. She was hurt ever since their demise, with them unsure whether Maglor was truly gone or hiding. Whereas Elros felt betrayed, the latter peredhel twin somehow knew it would come.

How Galadriel asked her of her friendship had struck something, something familial. She wanted to defend them again. She would not hide any more of her guilt.

The Eternal exhaled and finally spoke, "Yes, Lady Galadriel. I am, was, friends with the Feanorians." She continued, bright blue eyes shining down at her. "But despite what you think why I hide it; I have no shame that I willingly followed them. You may never know why, and that will be something that you would both need to understand on your own."

Lady Galadriel never responded vocally but through her mind. 'Your choice will be your doom, Lady Elemmírë.' She warned, 'Much like what doomed of both Maedhros and Maglor.'

As her anger return, she hissed back. 'Do not speak of their name, Artanis!' Elemmírë said, 'You have no right to speak of them!'

'They burnt my home, killed our people.' Galadriel's tone was hinted in deep hatred despite how calm she was. 'How can one saviour follow the likes of kinslayers?'

Elemmírë took a moment to stare at her. Many elves have spoken highly of the Apprentice of Melian and yet meeting her, she came to realise that the Lady of Light was not exactly how she expected to become acquainted too.

Ambition, that was what Elemmírë saw in her. She could see how much she wanted the room to lock eyes on her, to make her feel that she was the jewel in the room. But she also wanted to give compassion, to make those wield at her feet for her goodness and strength.

But she also saw innocence and naivety. Despite being older than her, Galadriel had yet to know the darkest depths of evil. To have evil breathing down her neck as their fingers crawled over her body. How the agony and pain brought when watching those she loved to be stained in red. The light in their eyes fading away until it was just an empty shell.

Elemmírë had touched death.

That is why Elemmírë could not feel the entire hatred or jealousy. It was sympathy that brought her to the realisation that Galadriel was lucky not to have participated in much of the war.

She thought back to her, 'Then you do not know how it feels like to live through war then. What it feels to feel utterly lost in the dark.' Elemmírë murmured, 'What pure darkness can feel, and that hope was so thin.'

Galadriel took a moment to seep the words through her mind, a sense of common ground between the two. 'No, I do not.' She admitted, which surprised her. 'And I hope to not succumb to the darkness.'

Quirking her lips, Elemmírë thought. 'We have both yet to learn.'

'Indeed, we do.' Galadriel returned the small smile.

However, both could see in their eyes that their small truce would not be their last.

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Illyria swayed side to side as her head grew heavy. She could have toppled over to the ground if both two pairs of arms stabilised her and slowly guided her towards the uncomfortable chair she sat on last night.

Glorfindel said, "Sit down, sister." He hovered towards the desk in front, pouring a glass of water into a metal cup before holding it towards her hand. "Here, this might help."

She took it with a meagre hand, her limbs slowly returning to their senses. Damn, that vision would have to be the most vivid of them all. Though, it felt odd considering how she wasn't sure if she was seeing it in the eyes of her previous life or like some panning camera in the room.

But she felt everything. To the very smell of the room to the sonorous sound of Gil-Galad's voice that still echoed in her ears. Even the feeling of her elven robes and the twitching of her ears. Pointy ear if she may also add. She could also sense the magical auras in the room, the odd sensation as it flowed like waves in the sea. In Illyria's best summary possible: it was very fucking weird.

As she finished with her drink, she leaned forwards to put it down and looked over to Glorfindel. "Thanks," Her hand went to massage the front of her face, squinting as she relaxed her mind. "If my memories are coming back like this, I might have to put a rain check on it."

Whilst she brought her head back up to face Elrond and Galadriel, the half-elven Lord spoke, "You remember Lady Galadriel. You know her name."

Illyria looked at Lady Galadriel. Artanis. That was her name before coming to Middle Earth before they had all crossed. But how can she remember that name? And why did she feel like she wanted to suddenly leave the room? So many bits left in her memory, vast gaps she knew that won't ever return sooner than she needed. But wanted, probably so.

Because her heart rate was dangerously high.

She blankly answered, "I strangely remember that you threatened me for something." Illyria shrugged her shoulders and gazed at her, "I don't know what, but I was very angry. Why?"

From Elrond's mind loudly sighing at her behaviour, he kept himself composed and reassured Galadriel, "My lady, Illyria is who you believe it may be." He paused, "We believe it is possible of her to be Elemmírë."

Galadriel never left her face, continuously staring at her like she was seeing a statue that Illyria was possibly wondering if elves could blink. "Yes. Your body is human, but your soul: it is Elemmírë." She spoke confidently, frowning. "But it should not possible. All fëa are reborn in their previous bodies in Aman. Your fëa must have escaped or passed on as the race of men."

For some reason, Illyria didn't think she was saying everything. Maybe it was Elemmírë's emotions coming through her, but even then – she can sense something prodding in the back of her head.

Wait, was Galadriel trying to read her mind?

Aw hell no.

"The Valar would not allow that, though. Surely not." Glorfindel frowned at this as well, seeming more worried now as from last night.

The trio was hiding something from her. They were repeating the same things and yet they were running around in circles. So, she did what she could and allowed Galadriel to connect her mind to hers.

Illyria tuned off both Glorfindel and Elrond, focusing her mind to connect to the Lady of Light.

'Tell me the truth.' She stated out to her.

Lady Galadriel asked back, 'And why do you believe I do?'

Nudging her head at the two people out of the conversation (who looked entirely offended because of it), Illyria answered. 'Because one: you are wiser and smarter than these two. And two: if I had something against you it means I can trust your judgement.'

'Not all questions can be brought to a simple answer, Elemmírë.' Galadriel told her truthfully. 'It is why you have always puzzled our kind. How an elf can act...much like the second born.'

Her eyes narrowed at her. 'Humans are not second born. They are their own rightful equal to elves,' Illyria gritted her teeth, her hand flexing around her staff.

Galadriel twitched her lips, humming in her head. 'She said that once too. Her closeness to the race of men was a gift and yet also a threat to them.' She continued, 'And perhaps the Valar may have thought to give you the gift of men for that.'

Raising an eyebrow, Illyria answered slowly, 'You are saying the Valar just simply allowed me to move forward.' She asked, 'But why allow me to remember my past?'

'...I have yet to know.' She said truthfully.

Illyria peered her eyes back and grumbled, 'Now that I remember, I can understand why Elemmírë didn't agree with some of your comment.' Illyria thought in sarcasm. 'Riddles are really out of trend nowadays.'

Thank god Galadriel didn't understand the phrase, simply brushing off: 'I have yet to know Illyria Strange, however.' She said curiously and pointed, 'You share her same force. Her passion.'

Her eyebrows rose and then questioned her, 'When did we meet?'

'Lindon.'

A glimpse of the vision returned to her, which caused Illyria to hum in realisation. 'Gil-Galad's court. So, I guess I lived through that.' She thought, 'If I remember exactly, you and Lord Celeborn lived there for a while.'

A dark tone passed Galadriel for a moment, perhaps remembering a darker time in her past. 'Indeed. However, we then left and decided to travel down the Anduin.' She told her, 'Many of the elves much like us took refuge there. When Gil-Galad established his kingdom, you were amongst his advisors.'

Illyria said, 'Neat.' She smirked and eyed her gaze in the direction of the other two. 'I'm trying to pick out when I died without making both Elrond and Glorfindel cry once they tell me. They are secretly rather touchy in the subject, which shouldn't really be the case because I am right here.'

Laughter filled the room.

And to her surprise, it was Galadriel who chuckled and spoke, "You are clearly her, Elemmírë." She smiled, "I am glad to see you again."

The smile she wore wasn't exactly what she expected. A mix of amusement and maybe something else. The Lady of Light was giving the worst case of mixed signals that Illyria was more frustrated that she was giving her that sort of expression.

The one that said, 'Oh I'm glad you're back but we had some tea, and we were slight frenemies, but I won't tell you because you need to remember it on your own. Sorry xoxo.'

Yep, that sort of smile.

"You too, I guess," Illyria replied with some unsure tone. "So, I guess we won't know yet how I came to be and why?"

Her solemn expression returned, "Not all things can return to you quickly."

Illyria's shoulder sagged slightly, displeased at the honest answer she got. She really hoped that Galadriel knew more about her situation, but even one of the most powerful beings on Middle Earth was also stumped at what happened to her. And that unnerved her even more how someone her status in the power level wouldn't know.

"But at least we've got some inkling that I'm remembering," Illyria answered with a tint of hope, and then questioned. "Do you know how long it'll take for me to get my memories back?"

It took a second for her to ponder and then Galadriel replied, "It is your choice in that matter, Illyria." She continued, "You must decide if you are either Illyria Strange or Elemmírë."

Her body straightened once more, feeling the air grow stagnant. Illyria frowned. "I like myself as Illyria, thank you." She asked, "And why can't I be both?"

There was a sense of unease once her words flowed out of her mouth. The blonde (well partially, he's still a little ginger) elf stiffened in his stance, glancing away like he didn't want to be here. Elrond looked too pained, his eyes widening before he stared at her with lips parted.

Not that she was looking at his lips.

However, it was Galadriel who she focused on. Her expression morphed to concern, almost to worry as her voice carried through lowly, "That will be a dangerous path to take." She locked her eyes at Illyria sternly, "A mind and a soul must be able to work together."

She mentally raised an eyebrow at this. If she weren't ignoring the other two elves, she would assume this was the first time.

Inhaling through her nose, Illyria answered calmly, "I won't know if I try." She stared with determination at Galadriel, a small smile curling on the end of her lips. "If I can get reincarnated and leave the Halls, I think I can get both of Elemmírë and me to get to some common ground."

"I would only know one person that can be as determined as you are." Galadriel's lips quirked up.

She had thought it would infuriate her, but in fact: it gave Illyria some hope. At least one person believed in her.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

As much as she wanted to stay with the elves and listen to their subjects at hand, Illyria felt that she was intruding at something she was not involved in after the situation of Elemmírë dissolved and changed to talking about elven politics and the situation in Mirkwood. There was a moment which Galadriel was mentioning about Arwen (almost giving her massive whiplash hadn't she stopped herself spinning her face from the cup in her hands), but Elrond sternly gave the Lady of Light the biggest stern gaze that even to their surprise Galadriel trailed off.

Illyria frowned in displeasure. They were still not talking about certain things all because of the 'safety and structural integrity' of her brain. At least they haven't asked about her age; if Glorfindel and Elrond knew how old she (well, assuming this body) was: they were going to practically baby her and cage her here until she turned a hundred. Illyria didn't want to think how wrinkly she would be by then – along with the saggy melons (despite lacking in that department even at this age).

Yeah, she didn't want to imagine old-granny Illyria Strange at all.

She excused herself after an hour in, thanking Galadriel and hoping to see her sometime around the house whilst she patted Glorfindel's hand and nodded back at Elrond. After she shut the door, Illyria relieved a massive breath out of her lungs and clung a hand to her heart. Honestly, that might have been the hardest shit she'd done. It was like being summoned into the headteacher's office.

Nevertheless, whilst she did feel odd after the whole conversation, her head did seem a little relieved. The visions were a bitch to throw at her, but somehow it did bring her some connection to who Elemmírë was.

So, as she brought herself back up, Illyria walked back to her room and probably sleep the entire day. Because right now, all her energy plus being hungover really took a toll on her.

That was why she was up early once more the next day, shocked by her own sleep schedule to wake up just before dawn as the birds whistling in the trees. Illyria decided to snoop down in the kitchen to grab some breakfast before skipping down to Nala's to give her the usual daily apples. Glorfindel told her off for doing this last week, informing her that feeding Nala was going to make her equestrian friend dependant on her.

Well fuck it, she can spoil Nala as much as she can. Not even a ginger-haired elf was going to stop her from doing it.

After she took Nala for a quick trot around to keep her active, Illyria wished her friend a good day before going back up to the waterfall to meditate. Whilst she expected it to be just her presence today, Illyria was surprised to find another figure stand watching the sunrise over the valley.

She wasn't sure if he knew, but it wasn't a coincidence that Elrond was at the very spot she usually occupied at this certain time. Something inside her almost felt flattered at that very thought. He knew she was going to be here despite it only been three weeks.

He glanced back at her with a solemn nod which Illyria returned, before Elrond gazed over the landscape. As she got closer, she decided to stand by his side – her hands awkwardly placed to the side as she tapped a usual pattered over her robes. Well, this was awkward.

Or maybe it was just her.

She wasn't sure how to begin; she could ask him why he was up here, but it was obvious he wanted to talk to her before this evening commenced. Illyria didn't need to read his mind to know how deeply he was thinking, almost over analysing everything with his knitted brows and long stare.

Thankfully, he finally cut the silence. Elrond asked her, "What did you and Lady Galadriel speak about?"

Her head turned to him and raised a brow, "How did you know I was talking to her?" Her question wasn't entirely serious, almost hiding her smile as she quickly darted away to look at the valley.

She heard Elrond respond, "You were both looking at each other long enough." He added, "I know it when Elladan and Elrohir do it."

Her eyebrows raised at this. She forgot that those two twins can easily read minds, and rather freely too. Her heart softened at the mention of the two as she answered his first question.

Illyria spoke, "Just about Gil-Galad's court."

"Just about Gil-Galad's court?" It was his turn to raise an eyebrow.

She waved it off and explained, "Don't worry, nothing embarrassing. She spoke about how I took refuge there and spent most of my time as one of Gil-Galad's advisors." Illyria took a side glance over to him and mentioned: "I don't think you'll want any of my advice."

Damn her heart for acting up at the gentle smile which formed on his lips. "I beg to differ." Elrond answered, "Your ideas on removing headaches have helped me."

Out of everyone here, Illyria had found the time and patience to teach at least one person her methods of peace – and that had been him. When they were talking in his office about her world, she mentioned about meditating. Now she can admit to Uncle Wong that she had gotten at least one student. (She tried it on Harley, Darcy and Tony one time, and choosing three STEM people to chill the fuck out in the most zen possible way didn't really help them chill the fuck out.) [10]

She did feel appreciated at his attempt, hoping that it really did ease his mind for some spare moment. Illyria did quip back, "That's because the majority is caused by my own hand." She muttered, "And maybe the twins and the Durinsons."

There was a change of subject, her previous sentence almost sending him to some path of nostalgia. Maybe before she was like this, annoying and perhaps a little clingy.

Though, she wasn't expecting him to comment something like that. "Elemmírë was never an ordinary elf. Many of the elder ones did not like your...plans," Elrond told her.

She wondered, "Why? Too good for them?"

He had a sort of thoughtful expression, reminiscing a surfaced memory. "You were always and foremost seeking to protect those outside our kin. Especially with those of the race of men and the Númenóreans." Elrond continued, "You believed there was more to the Edain and that there was a possibility for them to strive for the better." [11]

Illyria couldn't help but smile fondly, her cheeks growing slightly warm as he spoke of the elf that once walked Middle Earth. Even if she wanted to deny that she wasn't who he thought she was, she couldn't help but agree that it sounded like her. Illyria had always thought there was more to people than what they thought of themselves, like her dad, like Darcy, like Tony and Harley. Heck watching the young kid Peter Parker save London this summer, she couldn't deny that she was proud to see one of Tony's prodigies finally see himself more than just a neighbourhood hero.

She spoke with a tone of courage, "Because there is. There is always something more to others. Not just humans but hobbits and dwarves too."

At the second she finished; Illyria sensed the disapproval from him. Which she should have seen coming. After all, she slept throughout the entire night when Elrond went to read the map under the moon along with Thorin, Balin and Gandalf. He must have figured out the truth of why she was travelling with them.

As well as the fact that he was trying his best to compose his anger.

He began, "I respect what you have for hobbits and dwarves. But I do not approve of what they seek, Illyria. Do you not know what lies at the end of your journey?" Elrond questioned her, stressing his words. "If you awake, what then? There are lives that are at risk surrounding those lands. The dragon will burn everything in its path if you awake it from its slumber."

Illyria wasn't sure how to feel about that, biting the inside of her cheek as she tried her best to remain calm.

She creased her eyebrows and made a soured expression. "Look, you said that too and that speech seriously didn't give me as much hurt as watching it." A breath escaped her mouth as she said defeatedly, "I can't say much, but I believe it's the best course. Not because it is right, but it is the only safe option for the future."

Elrond peered his eyes towards her and questioned, "You are not saying this because of Mithrandir or..."

She shook her head vigorously and sharply said, "No. Neither." Illyria revealed, "I'm not saying the real reason because the information I have might not only put you in danger: but the people in this world too."

Illyria meant what she said. Every second she was here, the risk of others knowing significant parts of a possible future might entirely change the course of this world. It was already bad enough that some of the characters in the story she loved knew partially that Illyria knew what was to come – even if they thought of her as someone like Elrond with the sight... or just be plain weird. Either way, it wasn't worth arguing against him despite her own heart really want to bust out the truth about why killing Smaug was the best way for Middle Earth.

And she wouldn't even think that might even sway Elrond's opinion. He would do whatever was best, thinking about every single factor that would cause a domino effect. Because that was what he was – a strategist. He saw would analyse whatever path the future would take, using what was given to him, any information to then set his own advice to them.

Damn, perhaps she needed someone like him by her side. Considering the number of shitty decisions she's had since arriving here, maybe Illyria could get an Elrond.

However, whilst Illyria was not exactly a strategist or the wisest person: she did understand many other things people discarded. Like people's feelings or thoughts. She wondered how someone like Elrond can easily live with a power such as what he had.

It was why she blurted out as she turned to him, "How do you do it?"

His face rotated towards her, glancing down as he echoed. "Do what?"

"Handle knowing a possible future?" Illyria stared up at him. There was recognition in his eyes as she continued, "I know you can see the visions of possible futures. How can you live with it?"

Elrond pondered for a second, taking a deep breath. "I do what I can with what is brought to me." He looked at her, staring right at her with longing. The same haunted and sad expression that he wore when they were back in his office the night, she discovered who she once was.

"The sight is not always a gift, Illyria. And sometimes I doubt what I can truly do with the information given to me." He admitted, head looking away from her – almost in shame.

Illyria felt her heart lurch, confused, and heartened by his openness. She wasn't sure what to say back, afraid that she would mess it up. But in her own true way, she shrugged her shoulders and answered, "You don't always have to believe in them. And don't put yourself too much for it." Illyria tried to cheer him up, "My father used to be able to see glimpses of the future; I think he once looked into 14 million future possibilities just to defeat a purple grape from snapping our universe into half."

Elrond's face just looked more confused than her own.

There she exhaled, reaching out to then take his hand into hers.

As her smaller, nimble fingers took hold of his own, she stood back to the side and faced the valley below – allowing them both to succumb to a second of peace.

The simple gesture shook him, with Elrond's eyes flashing in surprise as she felt a minor headache go through. Vague voices echoing in the back of her mind. Her heart was beating fast, unsure if it was his or her own. She was afraid to glance to him at the side, regretting every second now what she had done.

Illyria spoke breathlessly, "What I'm trying to say is that I admire what you do." She twitched her lips a little, keeping the tone light despite her nerves. "Even if it's a little nudge in the right direction, I think people underappreciate how much you've helped."

Elrond didn't answer back, only staring towards the valley with her.

Illyria inhaled sharply as her heart thrummed.

He never let go of her hand throughout the time.

____

[1] - The White Council: A group of individuals who met irregularly with the purpose to unite and direct the force of the West in resistance to the shadows.
[2] - The Istari: Five of the Maiar who were sent by the Valar to Middle Earth as emissaries.
[3] - High School Musical: A Disney movie musical.
[4] - Luthien: The Princess of Doriath, famous for her tale of Beren and Luthien.
[5] - Numenor: The Star-shaped island West of Middle Earth. One of the most powerful realms in the Second Age before its fall due to Sauron.
[6] - Eriador: A large region in the North-West of Middle Earth defined between Lindon and the Blue Mountains in the west and Rhovanion and the Misty Mountains in the East.
[7] - Lindon: A region in the Westlands, initially populated by the Laiquendi in the Elder Days. Now part of the remnants from Beleriand.
[8] - Eregion: Realm of the Noldor in Eriador during the Second Age, near the Walls of Moria.
[9] - Sack at the Havens of Sirion: The Third Kinslaying by the Feanorians as they searched for the Silmaril which Elwing escaped with.
[10] - STEM: Science, Technology, Engineering and Mathematics.
[11] - Edain: Name given to the noblemen of the First Age by the elves.

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A/N:  Finally got around to post this. I had this ready and I just didn't have time to edit it entirely. And honestly, what do you guys think about the meeting with Galadriel and Illyria? To be fair, that was what I expected. We also got a glimpse of some past scenes and a taste of what the Second Age was like.

Thank you reading. :)

Edited: 21/08/2021