14 | The Return to Rivendell

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Illyria Strange | Elemmírë Oialëa

Location: Imladris, Middle Earth, Arda

Time: October 2980 T.A

One thing was for sure: she was never going to get used to going through the portals.

Arda just had to be the pain in the arse when it came to accessing it. Any other-dimensional portal was not possible; something was stopping them from creating a simple gateway. And out of all things – a Silmaril was needed to create them.

At least this time she was experiencing what it felt to go through since the last two times had been a little bit...let's just say she was blacked out to exactly have the choice of going through.

She wasn't sure what she expected. Passing through felt like she was being enveloped in a blanket... if the blanket felt like it was trying to push through the layer of their suits as she walked straight forward and only saw white. She could hear a muffled hum, probably the radiation around them as they waded.

Illyria had to admit it was beautiful.

When she first saw it in the Alps she was frozen in place – filled with awe. A perfect tear in the air as it expelled a burst of white light that refracted into multiple rays of colours, causing her heart to race and her throat to grow dry. The snow had reflected the light, causing the snow to glitter like millions of stars concentrated in a galaxy.

This time it wasn't as beautiful, but nonetheless breathtaking.

How something so beautiful could cause so much greed, destruction and pain.

After a few seconds, she saw through the visor of her helmet the narrow slit of another tear. It appeared to be the exit from the bridge between the worlds as it pulled her mind towards it and brought her striding forward.

Suddenly, a force began to drag her body towards the opening. Illyria tightened her grip against the metal suitcase and the navigator, sucking in her breath as her feet began to run effortlessly until she was almost swept off her feet.

And in the short seconds, an experience she had never felt, caused her body to be thrown across the white abyss and out of the bridge.

She really had to thank herself and her constant habit of walking barefoot as a kid when Illyria landed onto the floor easily with both her feet planted onto solid ground. Her legs were bent to stabilize the impact, but it didn't stop her arms from flailing out as the case landed with a thud on the ground.

Illyria winced mentally.

'Let's not tell Finneas that we just damaged his equipment one second into the mission.' Yeah, he was not gonna be happy with her clumsiness. Plus, it wasn't her fault, blame the weird vortex ending to that portal!

Gladly, she wasn't alone in experiencing that.

When she went to grab the case, a figure was practically spat out from the portal in a blob of white and purple. Two more followed, landing poorly on the rocky ground of the cliffside but luckily still on their feet.

Damn elves and their ability to be on their feet and be stable. She really wished she had Elemmírë's reflexes sometimes, even if her's was still better than the average human being.

She finally removed her helmet, hearing it hiss as she inhaled a breath of fresh air. When did the air become so crisp and good suddenly? Was it this good when she first arrived in Imladris?

Even the air was better in Middle Earth and that said something about Earth's terrible pollution.

Illyria strode over to help the three tall figures but they seemed to get themselves composed the moment they removed their helmets. All of them were panting and taking several breaths, trying to gain their surroundings and experience from the short but interesting journey.

Interesting with the fact that it took more effort than just walking straight.

If they were even walking straight. How were they supposed to know?

"Is everyone alright?" She asked them with concern.

The red-haired Fëanorian had his hand in his forehead, probably rubbing away a slight headache. He heaved out, "It is not as pleasant, but better than the first."

Elrond hummed in agreement, commenting that it was not the most comfortable thing he ever experienced but it was better than the first time he used the Silmaril as a bridge to Earth. Even her brother, who had been taken by the mysterious sorcerer: spoke that it was like drowning in pure white light.

How you can drown in light sounds impossible.

But then again, knowing that Arda was actually the real deal seemed impossible too.

And yet, here they were.

Illyria smiled and breathlessly pointed out, "I'm glad the nano-photoresistor suits helped." Oh, it was sure better than not having the suits, not to mention the fact that her body didn't feel like it was being pierced through light or falling from the sky. [1]

Maybe that was how it felt without the suits. Like free-falling until dropping almost dead on the ground with the massive headache of her life.

Yeah, she really had to thank Darcy for insisting on the suits. It was like insisting on putting the stabilizers on a bicycle – which she really should have used as a kid. When she first rode a bike, Illyria forgot the most obvious thing: gravity.

One moment she was on the bike, the next she was on the ground with a graze on her elbow.

Yeah...remember that some crazy dude realised apples fell from trees and hit the ground with a thing called a force? But in this case: Illyria was the apple and the lovely concrete pathway of Hyde Park was good ol' Isaac Newton's head.

Anyhow, she was glad falling wasn't a thing for them anymore and they were able to stop that from happening. Illyria shifted her focus back to the most important part – their location. With what they had set up the machine and navigator, she assumed this was the very spot she had hoped it to be.

And damn right it was.

The moment the sound of moving water crashing into the rocky abyss and the scent of pine trees and flora almost hit her in the back of her throat. Nostalgia and sentiment brought her chest to tighten as she looked beyond the landscape behind her whilst she moved towards the edge of the cliff and away from the waterfall.

"Where are we?"

In the corner of her eye, she watched Maedhros stare out into the valley below them – his suit disappearing back into the brace on his arm. The red and black robes really suited him, blending both what she remembered as his clothes back in the First Age to what he wore during missions on Earth.

Even by the small amount of light emitting from the moon that was tucked within some clouds, the metallic lines in the fabric glimmered slightly if she studied it hard enough. The vibranium metal laced through.

'Forget Gucci, Shuri should open her own new fashion house next time I see her.' Illyria internally thought as she brought the suit away and noticed the other two do so.

Elrond had slipped and stood next to Maedhros next when he introduced with a tone of relief and warmth that hinted with some satisfaction, "Welcome to Imladris."

Her lips twitched to a smile, her heart leaping once more as excitement and nerves grew.

They were back.

She was in Middle Earth again.

And yeah: it was the end of the world but fuck it – she was at least experiencing entering Imladris not unconscious. Unlike the last time.

Glorfindel had the face of someone who had been hit by another wave of nostalgia and she squeezed his right hand when he stood next to her.

To him, he must have thought he would never step foot into this valley the moment his fëa entered the Halls of Mandos. He would have never seen the home they had built and lived in ever again. Where she, Elemmírë, brought up her children with Elrond and her brother and protected the Sindar and Noldor from the outside wilderness of Eriador. The place they had made memories – both for her as Illyria and as Elemmírë.

Come to think of it, she needed to remind herself that she had spent a good portion of her time here. It was also the very same spot she and Elrond had talked as both Illyria and Elrond.

The waterfall itself was a special spot they had shared.

Nevertheless, the half-elven Lord brought back everyone to their agenda and suggested to begin walking down the cliffside towards the city below.

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The portal, on the other hand, had disappeared entirely, collapsing into itself in a crystalline crackle before the light caved into nothingness. It was not a subtle sound and it probably notified the people in the valley that someone had arrived through from here.

Though once she was certain the portal had been closed, they headed down the steps whilst continuously looking at the view to her side. She almost tripped hadn't Maedhros stopped herself from taking the wrong step when he asked a dire question.

"How do the languages cross?" He asked them.

Oh yeah, she was expecting this to be speculated at some point once they returned. Illyria was thankful she was prepared to explain this to him, "Oh, Sindarin and English are the same." She then informed the tall elf. "So, you will need a translator if we're planning to talk in Westron. But I haven't fully learnt everything so the translation spell might have some gaps."

Maedhros furrowed his brows, "Westron?"

Fuck, she forgot she was talking to an elf of the First Age.

Illyria barely remembered it, but she knew that elves in Gondolin practically only spoke Quenya or Sindarin. She learnt Mannish only through Húrin and Huor when they came to the hidden city god knows how long ago. It was only when Tuor arrived with Voronwë (was it Voronwë? She wasn't exactly sure) that she got acquainted with him through him and learnt Mannish.

(Damn still couldn't believe she actually knew the real Tuor and got to talk to Húrin out of all people. Húrin! Who was a little too much of a fanboy with the elves, not going to lie.)

(Fan? Or a Stan? Elf stan then? Could she consider herself as a Galadriel stan then? Probably not or else Elemmírë might just come out to bash the Illyria side of herself for thinking that.)

Then came the evolution of Mannish, which was then turned to Adûnaic. And then thousands of years it then continued to evolve and before long - bam: out came Westron.

The dark-haired elf responded for her: "A language derived from Mannish. The Númenóreans carried it across since it sank."

And Illyria didn't miss learning Westron one bit.

Thank her sorry and lazy ass for learning the translation spell so she and Maedhros didn't have to learn it the long way around. She was not going to suffer painstakingly just like having to be in high school all over again and learning ever so slowly about America's history. What was the point of America's history either way and having to write an essay on a bunch of old men in white wigs fighting over things?

Oh right: human rights...

This was why she dodged all things when it came to politics. Which is another thing she and Elemmírë and her had become rather an odd pair to debate about.

Thankfully, Maedhros knew his history well enough considering she had him invest in reading everything as well as watching the movies and the Amazon Prime series on the Second Age. It was still going, being the fourth season and on the part when Sauron began corrupting the kings of Númenor and persuading them to sail to Valinor. [2]

"I see."

Maedhros gave Elrond an approving look and Illyria caught it, causing her to internally melt in the familial bond they were at least showing subtly to each other.

Even Elrond knew it, slightly surprised at the exchange, and kept quiet moving along before he stopped.

He murmured to them, "Someone is coming."

Illyria froze, almost bumping into Glorfindel until she felt the familiar presence of a fëa.

Coming around from the hidden alcove of the stairwell was the long tresses of dark hair and the face she hadn't seen in a very long time.

Their face brightened, a wave of warmth gently matching hers as she quickly and gracefully walked up to them.

She had stopped midway, eyes darting to every person before she looked at Illyria.

With barely a whisper, she breathed in. "Naneth! You are here..."

Her heart had halted, her mind going to the memories she had recalled throughout the past few years. Of her and a little girl with pointed ears, running around the valley or doing various things. They would stargaze up on the balcony, have tea together or learn how to control their magic. How that little elfling grew up to the most radiant and beautiful elleth she was before them.

Illyria didn't need to think twice now to rush down to her and allow her daughter's arms to encase over her, her head nestling atop her shoulder. She embraced her, letting her eyes water as she began to brush her silky hair down, inhaling the floral scent.

Her daughter was here. She was finally physically near her and could finally at least remember some more of her.

They stood there for God knows how long until they both pulled back to look at each other.

Those grey eyes, much like Elrond's, were filled with pure relief and happiness. They glistened under the moonlight, making them sparkle and glow even more as she brushed a thumb over her cheek.

"Arwen..." Illyria choked out before she cried, "I am, my Evenstar. I'm so sorry it took so long! I really am."

She must be the worst mother in all of the mothers here, making her children worry for decades and thinking she was dead but not.

And yet, her literal child just simply shook her head and replied, "It was not your fault, Nana." Arwen took a step back down and held both hands together before adding: "You are here now and that is all that matters to us all."

She would not cry. Not now. Not when it was perhaps one of the few happy moments, she might have had with her. Illyria was going to make the most of her time with them, even if there was a war coming. And if several stupid Ainur were in the way, she was going to do all she could to stop them.

They were probably standing there, hearing their thoughts and the peace until a voice cut them off.

"You forgot about me, little star?"

Arwen flicked her head and saw the person behind and gaped.

She said with a breathless tone, "Uncle Glorfindel...but we saw you—"

There wasn't an end to that sentence because the golden blonde just simply lifted her up to the air. Illyria smiled at the happy reunion, her heart skipping in joy as Arwen's glee almost rang like a choir. It almost felt like the entire place was brighter as well, making her eye Elrond who seemed glad at the sight.

They both shared a secret look of amusement. She guessed that this was what parenting was like even for elves. Seeing their children despite being so grown up already to be happy like a child once again.

Glorfindel placed her down safely, the grin never leaving his lips as he exclaimed, "Oh Arwen, I missed you!" He paused, before he gestured to her, "My, I could have sworn you shine ever so brighter than I last saw you!"

A shy and flushed look perched upon her daughter's face.

"Thank you, Uncle." There was also a glint of mischief as she hinted, "Erestor will be so pleased to see you."

Something got stuck in her throat because Illyria couldn't stop hacking away her shock. She completely forgot about her brother's... 'situation'.

Even Elrond knew his friend and head counsellor well enough and rose his brow. "Rather angry beforehand, I predict."

And Arwen was not lying. Erestor was probably not someone who idled with feelings and would whack the blonde-haired elf with his own tombstone if he ever rose back from his grave.

He cleared his throat and gestured his hand before him, "Maedhros, I would like to introduce you to our daughter: Arwen."

Now, this was a meeting Illyria she'd been waiting to see.

She couldn't really remember talking about Maedhros and Maglor to her children in her memories, but with how the younger elleth didn't seem to act rashly in hesitation nor anger – it must not have been bad things.

Though the almost three years with her tall redhead friend, Maedhros never spoke against such things and found it curious to know what her children were like. If they were more like Elrond or like herself. (Kind of offended when Maedhros hoped they would be more like her which earned him a swat.)

Arwen took a few steps up until she faced the tallest elf in the vicinity. Even if she was perhaps her height, Maedhros had to look down on her. She relaxed her smile though containing the tone as she politely spoke.

"You are Naneth's dearest friend and Adar's uncle." With a hand on her chest, she bowed her chin slightly. Arwen greeted, "It is an honour to finally meet you, my lord."

The older elf stared at Arwen, his eyes glancing a little too long at her face.

Illyria noticed it quickly but stopped as Maedhros shared the same gesture and bowed. "An honour as well," He replied kindly.

Illyria was still confused as to why he kept lingering to Arwen.

But then she heard his thought briefly in her mind.

Maedhros breathed in, 'You are much alike. Lúthien, I mean—'

'Many have noted of that to me for many years.' Arwen answered back with her lips twitching, 'Do not worry, I hold nothing against you or your brother, Maglor. Naneth has always spoken to me and my brothers of you with high regard as well as the people of Rivendell.'

Her chest lightened in relief at this, thankful that her daughter had received Maedhros' presence well enough. And it made her heart swell as soon as she saw the widening stare in him, a mix of disbelief and honour in his heart.

It wasn't every day one of the most famous elves of the First Age would meet one of the most famous ones of the Third Age – let alone a Fëanorian and the descendant of Lúthien. Maedhros probably never imagined seeing a face like Lúthien ever again.

Kind of too late now.

Illyria smiled in amusement and perked up, 'She is like that in many ways.'

She heard a small chuckle from Arwen in her head before her daughter gestured to follow, "Come. Lindir would have my head if he discovers that I left my rooms." She paused midsentence and held her hand out, "Adar. You must have this."

In the palm of her pale hand laid one of the three elven rings of power.

She heard herself inhale once more. It's been a long time since she had seen Vilya and hearing that Arwen had held it for some time had her worry even more for the past few weeks.

Thankfully, it now returned to its keeper, with Elrond slipping it into his finger before he held Arwen's hand to squeeze it.

"Thank you for keeping it safe for me, Arwen." Elrond peered his gaze down to her and questioned, "I hope you did not need to use it whilst we were away."

Arwen shook her head, assuring them both in their minds that she hadn't needed to use Vilya entirely, only to keep an eye on the borders of the Valley and to detect enemies nearby. She explained as they walked down to the large house of more orcs and wargs beginning to come north and that she had the guard keep an eye near the river.

Though the mention of the ring almost caught her off guard as she questioned out loud, "What of the Silmaril?"

All eyes went to each of the four all laid to one.

Her.

Illyria mentally rolled her eyes. Wow, great that she had to be the one to explain the decisions they had all decided upon.

Taking a step next to her, Illyria placed a hand on top of her shoulder and sighed. "I guess that needs to be explained." She ushered them, "Let's head down first."

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To say that their entrance was a surprise would be an understatement.

Only Arwen seemed to sense the change of the energy around them as faces began to poke out of homes and work. Elves to which Elrond and Glorfindel had known began to gasp in shock and relief. Relief that their liege lord had returned in after a long month away.

And shock...well we know why that is.

Head bowed towards them as Noldor and Sindar elves saw her and Glorfindel's faces. It wasn't every day that their blessed captain of the guard – a.k.a the famous Balrog Slayer - had returned, alongside his sister and their not-so-dead Lady of Rivendell.

The elven singing began. Songs of praise and light as they recalled in the joy of their return. Illyria couldn't help but feel slightly guilty in all of it. Thirty-nine years since they have left Middle Earth and now, they were just turning up. They believed it to be the end of the world and they placed all believe that their return was a sign. Maybe it was, but it didn't mean as if they were superheroes let alone gods.

Illyria hid it well, the nagging spot in her heart as they arrived at one of the entrances to the great homely house she once stepped into.

The Last Homely House of the East.

It looked the same, though since winter was coming (in the wise old words of Ned Stark), all the plants and leaves had begun to orange and wither. The evergreen trees of pine continued to put some colour, though, with the lack of light, it felt eerily bland and cold. Like a gust of wind could easily blow you away from all the way down the valley.

How you could see the cold and feel it just by looking must be a major feat.

Whilst Illyria had kept her head high, she made sure Maedhros moved beside her at the same pace – cloaking his entire body with a disillusionment spell.

It would be a stupid fucking move to let the entire valley know that a dead Fëanorian arrived with them to wherever they came from. Even the Sindar who lived alongside the Noldor will not be pleased and Illyria knew it just by instinct.

Even if she had governed this place as Elemmírë with Elrond, the actions which the Fëanorians had done wouldn't fully go away so easily. Especially with those who lived for hundreds and thousands of years. And those who still followed Elrond and her because of following the eldest Fëanorian brothers, a majority had left to journey West. The last of those were mostly descendants, those who followed through hearing their stories.

It was what Elrond and Glorfindel told them, and some recollection from Illyria herself of the faces she saw around the valley.

Maedhros didn't seem to like having to hide, not with his pride matching almost to Fëanor, but he kept quiet for their account.

It was not long though, enough to get them until they were across the bridge and right in front of the entrance. When they did make it, a familiar face strode quickly over. Their dress billowed; long sleeves draped as their hair was braided back to reveal her ears.

It was the first elf she met back when she arrived in the valley for the first time (as Illyria) and perhaps the best elleth she considered as a good friend. Even if she was supposed to be thousands of years older than her and technically her employer, she did hope things won't change.

Miriel hadn't noticed them but she continued to call out to Arwen, "Lady Arwen, I have been trying to find—" She then gasped out loud, her eyes bulging out as she cried out, "Lady Illyria! Lord Elrond! You have returned!"

The young elleth's voice rang in her ears whilst Illyria went over and beamed to them, "Miriel! You still remember me?"

She nodded enthusiastically, "Of course, my lady...I mean Illyria." Miriel corrected herself, her cheeks slightly pink as she lowered her head.

Aw, she remembered her name.

When her eyes lingered behind, Miriel's jaw dropped.

"Lord Glorfindel? I thought..."

Her brother was probably having the best time in his life, laughing both inside and out at the elves shocked at him.

To be honest, maybe they should have planned a better surprise for them all. Maybe have him in a box and have him jump out and say, 'here's Johnny'.

(Or perhaps Illyria should have taken the printed shirt Darcy made for him. Next time they return to Earth (whenever the heck that would be), she was going to bring it back.)

On second thought, that might take Erestor and Lindir into cardiac arrest so maybe not...

He airily replied to the elleth, " 'Third time is the charm', or so the people of Earth say." Glorfindel laughed, but the other still looked frozen and afraid at him. "Come, my dear Miriel, if my sister is reborn twice it is not surprised to see me the third time."

Illyria saw Miriel blink several times before she shook her head, chiding back at her blonde-haired brother. A small smile on her lips.

"Lord Erestor will definitely have words with you, my lord," Miriel tutted him, a tone that was perhaps for a child rather than him. "He has been wearing us and sulking for thirty-nine years. No less Lord Lindir is rather fed up with his nightly reading and poor taste in harp pieces."

Her eyebrows rose.

Damn...well this was going to be interesting. This was perhaps even worse than watching a teenage girl experience a breakup and having to listen to Taylor Swift.

Luckily there wasn't any iPods here or breakup music in general.

Still: she mentally praying for her brother's behind.

She whistled a little and glanced over to Glorfindel, "Oh, you're totally screwed, Háno." Illyria paused and muttered briefly, "Maybe both ways too—ow!"

Abrupted by her brother's hand slapping her upper harm, she glared up at him. She was wearing premium fabric from Wakanda thank you very much, and it might even cost more than her bachelor's university tuition fee.

On second thought, considering it was American education: probably not even that. The USA need to sort out their capitalist issue and education.

"Your daughter is right next to you, nethig," Maedhros reprimanded and she really felt like she was more like the child.

Theoretically, she was with her oh-so young human body.

Arwen quirked her lips as she coolly assured him, "It is alright, Uncle. Naneth never changed even before Illyria arrived." She looked over to her, mirth which never left the moment they met. "I have rather grown accustomed to her choice of words."

First things first, her chest swelled with love at the immediate acceptance from her daughter even if Illyria thought Arwen should be angrier at her for leaving.

Secondly, damn right she did. Illyria and Elemmírë would not change for the better of keeping her language unless she did have to be polite for the sake of getting whatever she wanted.

Wait a moment...

Did Arwen just call him Uncle?

She then saw Maedhros' face copy the same as hers and clearly: they were the only ones who were slightly malfunctioning. Welp, Illyria guessed that her children had been calling Maedhros (and presumably Maglor) for an exceedingly long time.

From the redhead standing next to them all, he was getting whiplash again by just everything Arwen said. Or just existing.

He better not pull an act his brother did to the twins or else she was going to ask questions.

No, not questions.

Illyria was not a 'question sort of person' when it comes to child abandonment.

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They met the elf in Miriel's question on the way to Elrond's study, his head focused on a scroll as he walked only to look up as he laid his eyes upon the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower.

Never had she wanted to run away as fast as possible from this...because this was the most awkward shiz she had ever witnessed.

Forget A Spanish telenovela. This could surpass that and probably earn an Emmy for the biggest reunion with sexual tension.

Erestor showed the most deadpanned look as he said in a monotone, "I am seeing the dead."

Illyria thought Glorfindel would at least say something reasonable. But no: he had to blow it and say the most idiotic thing ever.

Taking a step closer to the Noldorin elf, the blonde-haired elf replied plainly: "Hello Erestor."

Oh for God's sa-

Well, her exasperation was halted because never had she seen their dear head counsellor look so angered and betrayed.

"Is this what you say to me? A simple hello?" Erestor hissed coldly back.

Glorfindel opened his mouth and answered, "Well—"

But he paused the moment the elf in question spun around and strode away as fast as he could.

With a panic tone, he called out to him: "Wait! Erestor!"

Ouch. Talk about breaking it to Erestor.

She had looked over to Elrond, who had taken a step towards a distraught Glorfindel and encouraged him to follow Erestor. Her brother's head hung so low that it felt as if the light had dimmed slightly around him and she couldn't help but share her sympathy.

Her brother had really messed up but it's not every day you plan to resurrect and return to your crush...or perhaps your soulmate.

Illyria was just relieved that her brother followed Elrond's advice and hurried to chase Erestor, who he'll likely find in the library – hiding away with his books.

Whilst they continued their way to the study, using her memories to guide her feet towards the right direction, she turned to her right where Arwen walked.

She asked her daughter quietly, "Is Erestor alright?"

It wasn't just the mourning which his heart showed, but Illyria could clearly sense his fëa showing cracks. Which wasn't a good thing to notice.

The memories with the older Noldorin elf were hazy. She remembered their first meeting. And surprisingly: it was rather similar to the first time she bumped into the counsellor when she was Illyria.

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"Good day, my lords." Elemmírë smiled kindly at the two elves conversing quietly.

The great royal library was usually empty at midday, with most of the young scholars and loremasters out for luncheon. It was the only time for her to use the space in peace, with the majority of her time there mostly having to teach and talk with other scholars. When she wasn't doing this, her time was spent with her genuine job.

Elrond would often be around when he was not bustling about and being Gil-Galad's youngest advisor. Though today, he had another companion.

Their faces looked up, and Elrond's eyes lit up immediately before he smiled. "Gin Suilon, Elemmírë. I assume you are here to take some rest." [3]

She grinned at her friend and nodded. "You know me, Elrond. The library is the only place I could escape from Gil-Galad and Cirdan's grasp." Her eyes turned to the other ellon and nodded curtly. "Mára rë, herunya. Man esselya ná?" [4]

The change in language had the ellon quickly hide the surprise before he cleared his throat and answered: "Nánye Erestor, herinya." [5]

"I am glad to hear that tongue once more," Elemmírë mused. "It's not a language which others speak nowadays and only those who learn from me or have been taught continue to do so. So, it is good to hear someone well versed in it."

Erestor nodded and replied, "I was taught of the language along with Sindarin." He paused, careful with his words as his eyebrows slightly creased at the corners. "I am one of the newer loremasters of Lindon."

She took a look at him, wandering subtly to hear his mind call on things. He was talking to himself, honoured to have met and talked to the Eternal herself and to meet the one who knew the Fëanorian brothers, which made her peer her gaze at him.

He seemed familiar in complexion, and the longer she took – Elemmírë realised where she had seen that face.

"Ah! Your father was one of their followers, is that not right?" She questioned with a gasp.

Elrond looked surprised as well along with the heartache in his mind (which she assured him once more with a gentle look) whilst Erestor silently nodded.

"What do you specialize in if I may ask?" Elemmírë pried a bit more and it seemed it was the right way to divert the subject as his eyes lit up.

As a loremistress herself, she knew those who were heavily invested in their research were fond of talking of their subject. And Erestor was no case as he spoke briefly of his studies in law-making and historical decisions from previous kings and councils. His interest in her city in general, Ondolindë, almost caused her heart to crack.

Even speaking of Gondolin always made her lost in her thoughts.

However, she wasn't going to bother the two anytime soon and excused herself.

She grinned and shifted the scrolls in her arms before checking out to where her spot was. Luckily, it was still empty, giving her enough time to poor over maps she needed to revise. Elrond said his farewell to her, informing her that he would call her to dinner if she hadn't come out of her study.

Erestor creased a brow at this. 'Why would she need to have him collect her?'

Elemmírë didn't want to shock the poor elf but simply chuckled back at the question before she left to sit down. Elrond's newfound friend would not know her gift in telepathy for quite some time.

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Arwen shared a sad look and replied, "He has not been the same since that day." She continued, "The entire city has not been. And now the sun has fallen, and winter is coming soon."

There it was again.

The impending thump in her chest whenever they mentioned the sun. Because here, she knew the sun was not a deadly laser. It was much like a crystal ball of light, to be honest; its vessel was created by the Vala: Aulë and contained the last fruit of Laurelin. The Maia – Arien – was supposed to guide it until the end of Arda and when Morgoth comes out from the Void. [6]

If the sun was destroyed, it meant permanent darkness. And darkness...that meant the opportunity for actual dark creatures to infest the lands.

But it also meant the destruction of the seasons.

No sun, no heat.

Illyria didn't need to explain photosynthesis to them to know one other thing.

"Food's going to be sparse. At this rate Middle Earth will starve before Morgoth or Sauron even try to conquer the entire world," she said, allowing Maedhros to nod grimly at her.

Elrond's study seemed the same as before, though without the sun seeping through the columns and the room mostly lit with candles and lamps. There were more stacks of papers than ever before, probably with work on the valley and research on the One Ring and the Silmarils.

She didn't need to ask before she plopped down on the seat opposite the desk, the past couple of weeks she hadn't had time to rest at all.

Her husband turned to their daughter and questioned, "Arwen, are there any news from Elladan and Elrohir?"

"They are a week's trek away from the valley. I was able to briefly talk to them before they arrived in Amon Sûl." Arwen explained, gracefully sitting down on the seat next to her. [7]

She creased her brows. What did she mean by having been able to talk to them?

Unless...

No, that could not be possible.

They only had about a month's worth of practice, and even then, she had only given her enough to sustain to go through the Astral Dimension. Even she would not choose to do that branch of magic unless it was safe enough for her.

Straightening her back, she frowned in concern over to her. Illyria stated, "You've been using Astral Projection. Arwen that could endanger you."

A soft breath left her lips. Arwen's eyes directed down to her lap, "Adar did not seem to mind."

Elrond shared the same look – brows morphing into a stern gaze, "That is because I did not know how straining it was." He asked Arwen, "Was that the only time you used it whilst I was gone?"

"I also spoke to Lady Galadriel once more and also with Lord Círdan," Arwen answered them in return, keeping her head straight toward Elrond. "Lord Galdor will be arriving in two days with several of their guards to represent Mithlond."

She wanted to facepalm and rub her face physically and did all she could not. Illyria should really have clarified about using sorcery and their own magic.

No wonder why Saruman caught her-

Oh, when she sees him...she was going to kick his ass for trying to lure Arwen.

Fully drop-kick him and probably use the Palantir as a bowling ball to knock him out.

Taking a deep breath, she smoothened the skirt of her new robes and turned to Arwen. "Alright. But for now, as weird as it sounds from my mouth, I do not want you using that branch of magic for the week." Illyria explained to her, "You need your strength, and I cannot have your mind exposed. The Astral Plane is only one out of the eight to exist and it's a vulnerable state to be in."

Maybe it was the first time in a hundred years for Arwen to hear her chide her but never had Illyria had to experience this at all. It made her chest hurt, seeing the slight flare in Arwen's eyes as she heard her insist.

"Then teach me as much as you can," Arwen implored. She paused and took a breath. "I know, it is not the right time as of now, but I cannot help if I do not learn all I could."

But would Illyria want to?

This was her daughter for crying out loud. There was a side of her who was begging to accept her request, to help Arwen know every bit of her powers. But there was also the motherly side of her wanting to keep her safe – away from revealing the sad truth in knowing everything.

Because if Arwen truly knew the extent, she could become...it might endanger her.

Illyria did not want her to go down the same road she took. Destroy herself because she pushed her boundaries.

'Please, Naneth.' Arwen thought to her. 'You must understand, this is my choice.'

Staring at those grey eyes, Illyria spoke in a sad tone: 'I will teach you and your brothers. But you must understand the consequences. You will need to control yourself.'

'I will.' She promised.

Elrond had cut the silence and suggested to them, "Arwen. Illyria. As much as you are eager to begin your training together, your mother is exhausted. In fact, she has not even slept for two days, I suggest you take some rest as well. The both of you."

She gave him a quirked eyebrow but he simply gave her a look to which she mentally sighed. Okay, maybe he was right but he didn't have to tell Arwen that she had been working day and night to get everything ready.

Turning to her father, Arwen nodded sincerely and stood up, "Alright, I will see to Lindir and make sure the preparations for the guests are set." She slipped a small thankful smile to her and spoke, "Please get some rest, Naneth."

Once Arwen left the study, hearing the doors shut quietly, Illyria closed her eyes and sighed.

She felt Maedhros shift to stand between her and Elrond, who had moved over to sit down in his chair and began filing through papers and reports.

"You had her use Astral Projection," Her eyes never left Elrond's.

He replied stoically, "You should have warned her about the consequences. Or me for that matter."

Or, they're having that game then.

"Well, I'm sorry," There goes her sarcasm, making her roll her eyes as she waved her hands. "I was kind of dying and having some crisis."

They both narrowed their eyes at each other, neither wanting to be the first person to leave their gaze.

Fine, if Elrond was going to play that game – she was definitely going to win. Why would he blame her anyway? It wasn't new that Arwen was powerful considering she had her blood. Not only that: she also had the genes of Lúthien, who was part Maia.

So, whoever is going to point fingers, Illyria should be the one doing it.

Maedhros must have noticed their glaring contest and scolded them, "If you could both, please stop bickering." He spoke, "You are worrying too much of your daughter, and I cannot see any fault for her not to use Astral Projection."

Illyria clenched her fists, lowering her voice, "Maedhros, it's not just Astral Projection as a whole." There, her voice exposed her worry, "She meant what I can do."

When she looked up to him, Maedhros froze slightly before he glared. "She has your powers," He murmured, "Two elves...that is dangerous."

Damn right it was.

She couldn't stay annoyed at him, knowing well enough that she was just being petty. But as stubborn as she was, Illyria changed the subject instead and focused on what was happening right then.

She glanced back up to him and said, "Elrond, the Nazgul will be onto them once they're at Weathertop...unless they're already there." She felt like she was slapped by a fish. "Crap, it's a week's walk, isn't it?"

With the preparation they did on earth, both Glorfindel and Elrond knew briefly of what was going to occur for the first few parts of the books. But since she didn't know if it was going to go in the same pattern as the books or films, all they could do was hope at least that the Nine were tailing the twins, Bilbo and Thorin.

And with Weathertop...

Bilbo Baggins was probably hurt.

Her dearest Hobbit friend, number one badass and totally good with Conker throwing was out there whilst she had been away.

'Alright, don't start hyperventilating Strange.' She thought to herself.

Elrond cut her from her thoughts as he asked, "You said Glorfindel, or Arwen, will go and rescue one of them."

"Well, we both can agree we're not having Arwen go right?" Illyria indicated at the end and she mentally heard a firm agreement from her husband.

However, Maedhros did point out, "But she does have your powers, Illyria. She will be able to combat them along with her brothers if she does cross with them."

That was true as well. If it was Arwen from the movies, she was barely able to take Frodo all the way to Rivendell had not she asked the Valar for a blessing to give some of her light to him. The Nazgul almost caught her and surrounded her hadn't the river stopped them. And in the books, Elrond used magic to raise the waters of the Ford.

But Arwen might have a good chance. With her light magic and able to sense the Nine...

Then an idea popped in Illyria's head.

She let go of fiddling with her robes and stood up from her spot, glancing at both before looking out from the window. "No, let Glorfindel go." Illyria felt herself give them a side smile, "I want to test out another theory."

The two elves gave her a look.

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[1] - Nano-photoresistor suits: These are the suits they use to stop radiation affecting them when travelling. Embeds nanotechnology as well as the use of photonics to resist light.
[2] - Amazon Prime's Tolkien Series: Something which at this point in time, is being created and being planned. It's going to be about the Second Age, and a lot of people have mixed feelings about it. (People don't want it to turn out like Game of Thrones.)
[3] - Gin Suilon: Sindarin inf. "I greet you."
[4] - Mára rë, herunya. Man esselya ná?: Quenya f. "Greetings, my lord. What is your name?"
[5] - Nánye Erestor, herinya.: Quenya f. "My name is Erestor, my lady."
[6] - Arien: The Maiar of the Sun
[7] - Amon Sûl: Weathertop

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A/N: Thought I would update more this weekend because I feel like I won't be able to for the next couple of weeks. And this feels like a good halfway point to post a couple just for more suspense. But yesss we get Arwen and she gets to meet Maedhros for the first time.

Edited: 12/02/2022