7 | Miss me, Mire?

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Illyria Strange | Elemmírë Oialëa

Location: Oxford, UK, Earth

Time: May 2027

Only two days.

It only took two goddamn days for this shit to go down.

So down that, they might be down-under in Australia the moment this fight against a Balrog was done. A Balrog: one of the fiercest creatures of all Arda that not only killed Glorfindel but also Ecthelion and possibly Gandalf in the near future.

Wait, was this the same one? The Balrog in the movies didn't look like this.

This one was bigger and very much on fire.

Illyria took a moment to mentally take a breather and prepared herself, altering her clothes to her robes and armour before she brought her magic through her hands.

The balrog was several miles off, just down near Christ Church Meadow, where surely a lot of students and other residents were out in the afternoon summer. They needed to get the citizens away before they could strike. So, in doing so, Illyria opened a portal for them to enter through before shutting it down.

As she gazed up over the shadow, she held her breath in shock at its sight.

In a way, she should have stopped being shocked at large-scaled enemies, since it was nothing compared to seeing Ant-Man being 65 feet tall, punching a Chitauri Leviathan with his fists, or Mephisto literally about to burn London from the many Hell Dimensions. That had been a sight to behold, especially once she realised that the demon could possibly kill her father and decimate the Earth dimension. Mephisto had terrified her so much that she might as well as peed her pants seeing him swallow buildings whole. [1]

However, there wasn't a Scarlet Witch nor a Sorcerer Supreme to combat this. (They also didn't have the power of god and anime on their side, unfortunately.) And even at her expense, she had limited knowledge on how to handle such large creatures...or technically twisted Maiar. [2]

Oh, this was going to be interesting.

Thank her brother and Maedhros for acting fast, already on the Balrog as she began to gesture for the citizens to get behind her. Illyria formed an Eldritch shield, large enough to cover her and two dozen people, as she ordered more of them to get as far as they could. Most of them had children, abandoning their prams as they carried their children.

As she held the shield up, her ears twitched as she heard a high pitch scream from down the path.

Amongst the trees, a woman and her child were cowering underneath trees.

Suddenly, the Balrog's whip slashed against its branched – catching it on fire. Smoke began to rise, and she immediately brought her shield down as she formed another portal and leapt across. She appeared just in front of the mother and child, forming her own light shield against the tree to stop it from igniting the others. The mother stared at her, mostly confused about how she even got there.

After telling them to head through the portal and assuring them of its safety, the mother had her child clung to her before leaping through. Illyria closed the portal as she was sure they were safe right on the other side of the park, allowing her to carefully bring the energy of the fire through her magic before sensing it pass her chest.

The moment she did so, she felt its fire scorch her. The Balrog's magic had lingered too much in the fire, and Illyria felt like she had just eaten something bitter. Guess Balrogs had a stinky smelly magic fire; couldn't Morgoth at least use something better when he corrupted them?

He was supposed to be the most powerful of the Ainur and he couldn't make their magic a little less spicy.

Once she harnessed the energy and the trees unharmed, Illyria used the energy left to bring another shield around those left running out of the park. Luckily during this entire time, she kept an eye on the two fighting the maia. Maedhros was currently duelling them, clashing his sword against the whip whilst swapping with Glorfindel's own blade.

As she aided the last few citizens out of the park, she was too focused on eyeing the massive dark demon when Illyria's back slammed against a larger force. When she looked up, she had to give them a double-take.

A pair of grey eyes looked at her.

Illyria gawked. "Elrond?"

Their own eyes widened, a sign of recognition. But this man appeared to be older, with lines already upon his forehead. And not to mention the round ears and shorter dark hair.

"You forgot about me, Mire?"

Eventually, the man formed a grin, before cursing aloud as the demon roared.

Illyria spun with her heels, forming another Eldritch shield over them as the last citizen escaped. But a second later, she felt her head pang – a wave of nausea hitting her before she felt a memory go through her.

Memories of the sea, of an island and a king upon a throne. Though this king appeared to have the face of Elrond, but not...

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"It will be a while when I step onto Númenor once more," The blonde-haired elleth smirked towards the older looking ellon. It would seem after several decades; she could spot the lines already forming on his face. Years spent well full of royal meetings and events.

The King of Númenor grinned and responded, "Do return when I am still able to run, Mire?" He teased, "I am not allowing our ongoing tally of duels to fall into your victory."

"Then you better continue your training," The elleth pointed out, glancing down to the young child standing beside the King. "Can I assure you that you would aid with your father's training, Vardamir?"

The young son of the King grinned, nodding heavily up to her. "I will, Lady 'Mire."

"It's Lady Elemmírë, my son." The Queen, Nilûphêl, corrected and looked up to her with an apologetic smile.

Elemmírë rose her palm, assuring the mother and child that there was no harm. After all, she knew the King for decades and have been the few who ventured on a regular basis to the star-shaped island.

S he turned over to the King, a tint of sadness in her gentle smile. "I will return soon, Elros. Perhaps King Gil-Galad will allow Elrond to be put off his duties to visit."

"Please do," Elros refrained to give an exasperated look but failed, causing her to chuckle. "Despite my brother's preference of the land rather than the sea, it would be lovely to see his face once more."

Elemmírë nodded and answered: "I will inform him. And possibly allow him to relax for once."

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The moment she turned back to him she gaped back.

"Elros?" Illyria stammered, "But you're—"

"Dead?"

Well, no shit. He's supposed to be dead over an age ago!

If she had a second right then to close her eyes, take a massive breath before screaming up to the Valar – she would. But sadly: there was a Balrog in Oxford for crying out loud.

Elros, who carried an elven sword (where the heck did he get that from?), rose his brows before pointing out, "Just like you are, I heard."

She furrowed her eyebrows in return. How the hell did he know what happened...

In the corner of her eye, just a speck from her eyesight and just standing beside Glorfindel: was the exact same figure who was standing next to her.

Elrond was here.

But how? Why?

Inhaling through her nostrils, she sent Elros a glare. "You and your brother have crap timing, Tar-Minyatur!"

Instead, Elros had the audacity to laugh. It was the same cheek and tone she remembered. Welp, at least this Elros wasn't a trick and was the very real deal – sensing the flutter of his remerged fëa. Illyria allowed the shield to fade as the flames rose, before placing her hands out in a series of patterns.

As she heard the slicing of air and the familiar ringing of glass, Illyria distracted the Balrog by forming a blinding light with her hand. The balrog soon spun around, attracted to her light before they ran straight towards her.

With a deep breath, her hands materialize the portal, shifting it forwards as the world altered around them. The familiar geometric walls and crystalline structure – an exact mirror of the park.

She had brought them into the Mirror Dimension. At least now: none of Oxford would burn or be destroyed by this corrupted Maia's snazzy fire and whip...or fiery whip.

Technically, they were pretty much just on fire everywhere.

Once the Mirror Dimension was shut, she brought her hands to glow and began to levitate from the ground. The Balrog's attention was still at her as she sent a wave of light at their face, forcing their eyes to be blinded. The demon roared in pain, their hand covering their eyes. She brought then another blast of light at their chest, making them stumble back.

At that moment, both Glorfindel and Elrond appeared at the sides – slicing through its legs. It fell onto its knees as more flames ignited around the field in a ring. She panned over the area, eyes darting over the shoulders of the Balrog before she noticed the body of water across. The river won't be affected in the material plane, so it was their best shot in at least preventing them from burning.

Suddenly, the Balrog's arm swung at her.

Illyria yelped, the air in her chest releasing as she ducked under and moved across the air. The Balrog swung in a quick motion, the whip crossing through the air as she flew past his arm and headed towards the River Thames.

'Come on, Strange.' She encouraged herself with a deep breath, her hands visibly shaking as she controlled not only herself hovering but beginning to bring dimensional energy through to the Mirror Dimension. 'If Dad can do this tenfold, you can do it too.'

As her hands moved in an array of circles, she spotted the water beginning to move against its current. Once the spell grew, Illyria flung her arms in a swift motion towards the balrog – jets of water shooting over the balrog's form.

They screeched in fury; the flames doused in water as smoke arose from its black charred skin. It wailed as its whip hissed, caught between Illyria's light whip as she yanked far. Her eyes then caught Maedhros, sending him a nod before he charged towards the balrog's back.

The dark demon was bent low enough for the tall elf to leap from a great height, clambering upon one of the trees before piercing the longsword upon the balrog's neck.

A burst of flame expelled from its head, blood, and smoke erupting as they cried out in agony. She watched in disbelief as Maedhros slid the sword all the way down before both Elrond and Glorfindel sent their own blades upon the balrog's chest.

Soon enough, she pulled away from her whip once she saw the demon finally tumble and collapse onto the charred ground – its form now dead, and its spirit went from its corpse.

Illyria gradually brought herself down onto the ground, finding her mind just going immediately blank at everything.

"Well, that was...interesting."

Flinging her head next to her, Elros had appeared once pale – face now as white as a sheet as he stared at the fallen mound of a corpse the Balrog was.

She then gaped back. Had he just been in the Mirror Dimension this whole time? She could've sworn she shoved him back out before pulling the Balrog and the three other elves back in.

In one part of her mind, everything was screaming at her, demanding questions. Whilst the other part of her mind: she did not want to know the answers to those questions.

On second thought, the tree looked better on fire before...even better if she was on it and on fire as well.

Illyria mentally groaned.

Why did the fates decide to give her this day for all of this to happen? Why couldn't she have a good Tuesday afternoon to just chill and watch Netflix?

Her heart had been racing the ringing in her ears before she walked towards the Balrog. From around the corner, the familiar figure appeared, their clothes splattered in blood and covered in soot but nonetheless unscathed.

Their eyes met as they gazed up, and her heart decided to do her once and stopped.

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Somebody should probably get her an electrocardiogram every time they meet each other because she finally saw Elrond Peredhel after two and a half years was not supposed to be like this.

She hurried forward, though hesitant as Illyria brought herself to stand several feet away.

"Illyria," His voice called to her, wavering with emotion as he sheathed his sword onto his belt.

As they finally met together, standing out in the middle of a field, Illyria did not care for the rest to look at her as she ran up to him and jumped into his arms.

Her arms went over his shoulders, clutching him as she buried her head over his shoulder. His body gladly leaned in; head tucked over her as his arms encased over her waist – sensing him inhaling deeply.

The last time she had seen him: she was dying. Her brother was dead, and a dark dimensional blade was pierced through her.

Two and a half years.

It took her two and a half years to find him again, thinking that she had to be the one to get to him because that was how she only hoped it would be.

Her chest was so tight, her heart pumping faster as she quickly pulled away. Her hands were sweaty and warm whereas his cheeks were cool as she directed his glance down to her. Illyria's eyes trying to search for anything. Anything to tell her that this was all real and that this wasn't some illusion for her or any alternate reality.

She needed to know if this was the same Elrond who she regretted leaving behind.

Illyria whispered, "Elrond?" She asked, "Is it you?"

His hands slowly rose to her face, fingers tracing over her cheeks as he cupped her chin. Silvery grey eyes stared at her with such love that she could feel more of the memories filing through. Years spent beginning to embrace the memories of her past rather than suppressing them have finally brought her to come to love the half-elf before her.

His touch was so light, wiping away the tears slipping down her face as he murmured to her, "It's me, don't worry, melmenya."

Her lips wavered, unsure how to respond.

"How...How are you here?" Illyria wondered though her mind mostly asked herself the same question.

There was a moment several emotions flashed through Elrond's eyes as he recollected himself and drew out a hefty breath. He then let his hand reach into what seemed to be a small satchel literally tied to his side. "Rather a long tale. It involves a Silmaril to our displeasure," He said with a grim tone and she gaped the moment the wave of energy hit her.

In his hands was a small wooden box, a rainbow of light escaping from its cracks. She didn't need to eye it to know it was the cursed jewel that was safely locked in there; she could sense it from her own fëa.

It didn't stop her with widened eyes and her jaw slightly loose to gawk back at him. What was up with them and Silmarils being the factor of meeting all the time?

She thanked him by suggesting to her, holding out the box to her chest. "I think it is best if you hold onto it now, Illyria."

Merely nodding with a gulp, Illyria inhaled before bringing the box into her dimensional pocket. At least now she wasn't having the urge to feel the tension rising in her body. She still remembered the feeling of seeing it, the memories all flooding back without any choice for her to stop it.

Her chest grew hot, a mix of hatred and frustration aggravated by just simply sensing the small thing. But the moment her eyes rose towards Elrond again, the feeling relaxed and felt assured by his presence. She never realised now how much he could affect her own emotions sometimes.

Or maybe it was still the adrenaline rush – who knows.

She cracked up a smile, quietly murmuring to him as she brought her arms over his shoulders to embrace him again as their foreheads touched. "I miss you. So damn much," She confessed, "You have no idea. I..."

Illyria trailed off, unsure how to bring the words together until all she could do was clamp her lips from letting out a sob. Her hands were shaking, thinking again of that winter's day when she almost died. When her brother died.

Elrond had watched him die again and she had left without ever saying more than she wanted.

However, she wasn't going to let anything get between them. Definitely not now after two and a half years. Parts of her life were now pieced together, memories that were beginning to feel more real as she felt his fëa return to her. She really just felt that they could meet in a better circumstance and not be stained in blood.

Post-Balrog slaying reunion. How fucking romantic.

"Somehow, we meet when danger is amongst us," He drolled, the mirth in his eyes brightening.

Illyria couldn't help but smile at his face, teasing in a light tone, "Well, you know me, I attract all sorts of trouble." She then paused as she spotted him glance down. Pulling her head back, Illyria glanced up with concern. "What?"

His eyes were focused in another part of her – more specifically what was on top of her head. The crease of his eyebrows turning to an expression of questionable doubt to horror sent her realizing why Elrond was making that face.

Mentally facepalming, Illyria gave him a look and sighed in exasperation. What the heck was up with elves not wanting her with silver hair? Was she that different and ugly being a silver head than a golden head girl? Or maybe it was a weird elven thing that made her look more Sindar than Noldor? That wasn't a good case either way since she hardly looked Noldor at all along with Glorfindel for god's sake! If they had to pick an elven ethnicity, they'd be more Vanyar than Noldor.

"Not you as well!" She groaned and playfully swatted his upper arm.

Elrond gave her a sheepish look and carefully replied, "I am not used to seeing you with...silver hair." He tried to reason with her. "Please, I assure you still look as beautiful as before."

Huffing, Illyria allowed to pull herself away and adjusted her robes. "Flattery won't get you anywhere, Peredhel." She spoke, really attempting to keep the façade up. But the moment she saw him trying not to laugh, she had to bite the inside of her cheek. Her face must be so red right now.

"Illyria!"

Their little moment together was halted as she heard the echoes of Maedhros' voice.

Crap, she forgot they were still in the Mirror Dimension...and they weren't alone.

Turning her head to the left, she saw Glorfindel running up to them with panic.

"Sister!" Gradually, he stopped as his eyes wandered to the half-elf standing next to her. Glorfindel called out, "...Elrond?"

From the corner of her eye, she saw the shock plastered on Elrond's face, practically seeing a ghost of his long-term friend and brother-in-law.

"Glorfindel?" Elrond called out; his words so incoherent that he was practically just screaming it in his head.

Glorfindel's eyes trailed off from the Peredhel twin to the other, the one who stood far back from the balrog.

"Elrond...Elros..." Maedhros' mouth was open wide, the colour draining faster from his face as his hand slacked down and his sword clattered onto the ground.

There was a sharp inhale from Elros, who said with a tight voice: "You."

Elrond trailed off, "Maedhros..." He whispered, "How..."

Oh no...

Wincing, Illyria muttered to herself, but she knew the others probably heard her, "I was afraid this was going to happen." She held her hands up and pleaded to them all, "Boys, please don't go into shock. Let's clear up before we head home."

Elros looked like he was about to burst into flames, hadn't she grabbed his hand and mentally told him to calm down. Elrond was still frozen in place like, never leaving his eyes from Maedhros and not even recalling anything from his mind.

Four elves meeting each other and thinking each of them was dead was perhaps the worse bit of today's agenda.

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They left the Mirror Dimension once the Balrog was surely dead, or what its body remained. When they were brought back to where the park had been, they noticed that there was a large patch of grass a little crispier than normal.

Okay, she might have to wait for the police to sort out this, and perhaps contact the Master of the London Sanctum for another out worldly demon arriving on Earth.

Whilst the authorities did arrive, Illyria kept her eyes trained on Elrond. Not being possessive or anything, but she never let go of his hand – afraid that if she let go, he would just disappear from her sight. She guessed that was how the identical man standing next to him felt like, who was constantly eyeing Maedhros with a mix of shock and irritation. If anything else was burning it would probably be Maedhros with Elros' constant glower and Elrond's haunting gaze at him.

The twins were practically living their worst memories again, and she really wanted to get them all back to their house and sort this out.

And also change their clothes, because the smell of ash and blood wasn't the best elven cologne to exist.

Once they were done, and lucky to dodge interrogation back at the police station, she ushered them all through one of the portals that sent them straight into her and Maedhros' living room.

She didn't notice she had been holding her breath as well once she stumbled right into the room after the portal shut, colliding right into Elrond. She thanked the half-elf for catching her then, glancing up once more with a tired smile to him before mumbling an apology. Elrond's eyes softened, forgetting for a moment who was here before pressing a kiss upon her forehead.

Illyria closed her eyes, trying to reminisce it. All those dreams with him hardly compared to real-life now.

God, he was here: on Earth. Alive... and with a Silmaril.

Okay, let's just forget about the Silmaril for a bit.

After a minute of just simply readjusting herself back to ordinariness, she pulled herself out of Elrond's embrace before changing her disposition. She knew that everyone was shaken after what just happened, confused as hell, and just haunted and horrified to see dead elves in front of them.

And yes, she's included in that group.

But Illyria knew she had to be the one to toughen up. She knew Maedhros was going to be petrified once he saw Elrond, no matter how much he denied it or kept himself staring anywhere other than him. However, he was also seeing Elros...and Elros was more pissed at him for what occurred two ages ago.

As for Elrond...it hurt her heart to see him like this. Yes, she knew he was happy to see her and definitely shocked to see Glorfindel alive. But seeing Maedhros out in the flesh: she remembered they both had thousands of years of trauma buried because of what the Fëanorians did.

So, she did what she did: and that was to make them all tea before popping out the alcohol. God knows she'll need some tonight. Or everyone for that matter.

After nudging a begrudged Elros into the kitchen, she assumed the man would know his way around a modern house and asked him to help her. Whilst she sorted beverages, she asked Maedhros mentally to have them change to something that wasn't covered in blood. The red-haired Fëanorian merely looked at her but didn't complain as he gestured for Glorfindel and Elrond to follow upstairs.

Illyria shuddered another breath. She would only hope Elrond didn't try and do anything.

It wasn't that she didn't trust him, but with seemingly everything happening all at once it would be overwhelming. Hell, she should be overwhelmed about this! And here she was, making tea because she had to play grownup with all these elves around!

(It would be goddess-send if her mother were around, but she knew it would be too much to ask for something that wasn't her business.)

Speaking of business, throughout the utter silence of the house: she was thankful that her father called midway through the kettle boiling. The Sorcerer Supreme just found out through the Orb of Agamotto and through Master Hamir, asking if she was alright along with Maedhros and her brother. After assuring him the third time that she wasn't harmed and only drained, Illyria explained to him through the details with the authorities before shoving her phone into her pocket – now changed back into her ordinary clothes.

When the kettle finished boiling, and Elros appeared once more after excusing himself to call someone, Illyria gave the Peredhel twin a worried glance and he shook his head.

Illyria wished her life wasn't as complicated as this.

And then she realised she said that out loud when Elros spoke back, "We should drink to that."

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Several hours later: they did.

Despite trying all her best not to attract themselves to the neighbourhood, Illyria really had to thank Kathryn for being the best person ever. The moment Illyria sensed her at the doorstep, and the elves were in the living room conversing about what happened, she had a moment of panic before she accepted to get the doorbell. The kind woman had stood there, a concerned expression on her face before asking if she was alright.

Illyria quickly tried to form a sort of excuse, assuring their neighbour that she and Maedhros were fine and that they had some guests around. Kathryn then continued to explain to her what happened, mentioning a fire out in one of the college parks but luckily it had been put out once the firetrucks arrived and people were evacuated.

(Illyria was fricking impressed for the authorities to cover up what happened. She wondered how the civilians around got persuaded not to speak of it. Quite a price to make people hush.)

She let out a relieving sigh, glad that no one was hurt either way and thanked Kathryn for popping around to ask. And what made her the best person was that she had given her an entire casserole dish of shepherd's pie, already cooked and still warm.

Fuck takeaway, Kathryn's pie dishes were the best. If they were not married, Illyria would've kissed the woman there and then.

Kathryn brushed away the large compliment, only asking to make sure they would be free again to try out another bar in the city. She agreed half-heartedly, her mind mostly thinking about the last time they went out drinking. And how that turned out...

Note to herself: do not bring Maedhros to a gay bar.

After sharing one last laugh, she bid Kathryn a good evening before closing the door with her foot.

Thankfully, the elves were still alive and somehow the alcohol stash she bought at the dodgy unlicensed liquor shop was doing some justice to their bodies. When Maedhros first tried out the wine here, it hadn't taken to any effect and the elf simply drank it as if it was water. (That was how she imagined Thranduil drinking his disgusting Dorwinion wine.) That was where Illyria brought her university student lifestyle and introduced him to the variety of liquor they produced on earth.

She found out two things. One: Maedhros might be secretly Russian because his favourite was vodka. Two: he would pass out if the vodka was around 70% alcohol.

In conclusion: she bought vodka. And Elros must've given her the most judgmental look ever as she slapped the bottles onto the dining table before begrudgingly opening the cap with the flick of fingers.

Elrond simply gave her, Maedhros and Elros the most exasperated look before mentally asking her to pass the wine.

See, Illyria Strange is always right when the alcohol comes out.

They had moved into the kitchen for dinner, which was a mix of silence and questions being tossed around. Illyria thanked that both Elrond and Glorfindel found it alright, though they wondered how the oven worked, and how every single bit in the kitchen operated as well. Most of it had been Glorfindel, who she thanked for being the only one to be confident and comfortable to express his enquiries. It had only been a couple of days and he looked better, though weary from this afternoon but the light in his eyes were back to its usual glow.

Once everything was cleared: Illyria shoved them back into the kitchen with glasses in hand and decided it was time for them to talk. She didn't care if Maedhros looked like he would rather be in his workshop and Elros and Elrond would rather throw a fist at him. They were going to talk about it like fully grown adults no matter what.

Elros slumped onto one of the armchairs, with Maedhros taking the other. She allowed herself to sit back on the sofa along with Elrond following suit whilst Glorfindel idled over the bookshelf, flicking through the books.

In a rather deep and rugged breath, Elros leaned back and stated aloud: "This is some weird afterlife I wasn't expecting."

There goes starting off the conversation without making it macabre.

"This is no afterlife, this is...madness," Elrond's voice rung next to her, seemingly exhausted.

Hesitating for a moment, Illyria gradually brought her hand upon his knee where his hand was placed. She didn't need to look, only sensing his fëa to calm as her fingers laced onto his.

"We must thank the Scarlet Witch for leaking the multiverses through," Maedhros muttered, taking a sip from his glass.

With furrowed eyebrows, Elros asked them, "Who is the Scarlet Witch?" He added, "Is she the one who brought those villains through?"

She knew all pairs of eyes went to her's alone, whilst she stared over to Maedhros. One thing they both knew was that during their time on Earth, Wanda Maximoff's title had a mixed ray of reactions about it. Of course, Elrond and Glorfindel had no idea who they were talking about, but Elros had been on Earth to possibly witness their earth be bombarded by other universes in the eyes of a bystander.

Darcy thought highly of her, so did the Avengers. But as someone who was related to the Sorcerer Supreme, in truth: The Mystic Arts found her more of an ally than a hero. She was a Nexus being, someone who can potentially alter the flow of the universal time streams. Thus, a threat to this world and any that she travelled. [3]

However: Illyria would be a hypocrite being a threat. She did technically break Uncle Wong's rules and tossed herself in another universe. By accident, obviously.

She answered, "It's not entirely her fault. Well, not her fault breaking through our world." Illyria rambled and tilted her head to the side. "I would technically be one of the causes. And so would other sorcerers and those who know dimensional travel."

Illyria also thought, 'And also, Lokachari too.'

Pale blue eyes sent her a peered gaze and she nudged her chin over to the red-haired elf. They were not going to discuss Lokachari right now. Not when they needed to answer the most obvious ones.

Coincidentally (and possibly the most worrying), Maedhros was the one to begin the subject: "And how are you alive."

Elros' demeanour changed, his face growing blank as he replied, "I could ask you the same thing."

"Elros," Illyria hated putting a warning tone, too tired to deal with more complaints, but she needed to keep them from tearing each other apart. "Yes, I know it is shocking. But please, we're all overwhelmed. And I'm not playing Switzerland between all of you."

Snorting, Elros folded his arms and replied, "You don't have to." He nudged his hand, pointing at both Glorfindel and Maedhros. "And how the hell is he bloody alive? And him too, no offence."

Glorfindel smiled in amusement and said, "None taken, Tar-Minyatur."

"It's Elliot Madden now," Elros murmured, taking a sip with his drink.

The elves around her seemed to have a variety of reactions to the name, some appearing more like the ones she remembered when she first learnt about her reincarnated life and her previous name. Illyria would have to ask which name he preferred to go as, but she'll brush that off once they get through the actual parts.

Taking a deep breath, she stretched and straightened her posture before shifting her body, "Okay, let's start at the beginning." Her eyes looked straight to him and questioned, "Since when did you know you were...Elros."

She wasn't sure how to mould the question but thanked Elros when he understood what she meant. "The moment Elrond appeared with the Silmaril," Elros answered solemnly, earning a nod from Elrond.

Illyria couldn't help but frown at this. How could Elliot Madden remember his past life quicker than she did? Did he have dreams of his past life before or was it just spontaneous combustion of memories and finally having his mind admitting he was Elros all along?

Damn, she should have studied philosophy or something to get this. Maybe discussing it with her dad or Master Hamir might get her some answers. But it did lead her to know that the Silmaril had been the thing that triggered his past life resurfacing.

Illyria trailed, "And I remembered when I saw it." She turned her gaze to Elrond and asked, "Where did you end up?"

Her husband answered, "Some open field." Elrond looked over to Elros for confirmation and added, "Hyde Park, was it not?" Elros nodded, making her pause and scrunch her face in confusion.

She asked, "Why Hyde Park?"

Why would the Silmaril throw a portal at such a specific area? The last time a portal was formed it had been right at the top of the Alpine mountains and hardly a place that people would be around. From the lack of anomalies similar to the one that she went through in the past couple of years, it wasn't a good amount of evidence to make more assumptions. The only link she had come up with had been the fact that they opened when she was around or relatively close.

Illyria had not been in Hyde Park that day.

Elrond answered her, however, "I'm not sure. From our world, Arwen sensed the weakest point up in the waterfall in the valley." He glanced at her and pointed, "I assumed it was to do with your memory of significant points."

She turned to look down on her lap, her eyes staring at the lack of ring in Elrond's hand. Where was Vilya?

Then she was thinking about Arwen, the pit of guilt and worry edging her heart. It should feel weird that Illyria felt something, but she couldn't deny that she really missed her children (even though hearing it come from her mouth felt really weird and even weirder to her parents and peers).

Even so, Elrond's theory was plausible. The barrier between the two universes isn't of equal strength; there were always weak points – paths in which allows weird and wacky things to turn up or change. And since the multiverse around their universe weakened because of the entities and beings they've had, it wasn't surprising Arda's barrier with theirs had weakened after the years.

But with the weak points linking to places that were significant to here wasn't right. Maybe it was one of those 'correlation doesn't account causation' sorts of things. But with so little, Illyria was starting to believe it.

The waterfall...was something that was significant – for her and for her past life. Where she and Elrond told each other they loved each other, and the place she started having something with Elrond in this life. Hyde Park was also another place that brought her memories too.

Illyria told them after a moment of silence, "I used to go there as a child." She slowly came to the realization, "It was where I first met Darcy."

The playground more specifically. When she was just turning eleven years old, and she had asked her father (who she still called Dr Strange constantly then) if they could go out for the weekend. Technically it had been Darcy who approached them, well Stephen Strange specifically, and had somehow smooth-talked her way to them.

She couldn't remember why, something to do about Americans sticking together, but Darcy's kindness despite being a stranger was what kept her in Illyria's mind all the time. That and also never having to know someone out of the Sanctum or Sanctuary, she just latched onto Darcy's openness and love like a leech.

The memory brought her small smile on her lips, glancing over to Maedhros who twitched his lips.

He brought the conversation back and said, "So, it's now evident that the Silmarils are connected somehow to you." Maedhros scowled as he questioned, "Though why and how?"

The frustration of feeling stumped did not go away, but Illyria had to intervene and spoke, "I know it's similar to my powers, but the why bit will probably be impossible at the moment."

"If it took Elros so quickly to return his memories, why did it take you a long time?" Glorfindel inquired, gesturing to Elros who looked even more confused and just exhausted from everything.

At least she wasn't the only one. Even so, they needed to get through with it. "I don't know," Illyria honestly answered, letting out a huff through her nostrils. "All I know is that I'm assuming something, or someone is pulling the strings. Mae?"

When all eyes fell on him, Maedhros appeared to look uncomfortably tight. His face drained in a mixture of urging to flee but wanting to stay put as he whispered, "The pull." His eyes went to Illyria' as he spoke, "It's getting stronger. I can feel it, even when you have it."

She felt Elrond shift in his spot, his concern growing.

Right. Well, this was going to be difficult to justify.

Licking her lips, she slowly spoke warily, "Mae, I know that you're going to hate me for this—"

Maedhros' eyes narrowed as he firmly replied, "No. I said I won't ever look at it if it ever appeared again."

Then he wasn't going to like what she did.

Illyria shuffled to the edge of the sofa as she assured him with a calm voice, "I promise you it won't affect you."

But the stubborn Fëanorian didn't falter, questioning: "How would you know this?" He scoffed as he clenched the sides of the armchair tightly. "My ass of a father was ever so kind to enchant an oath to all my brothers that the pull won't ever be undone."

She could imagine Elrond's disbelief showing slightly under the dim lights, his eyebrows pierced into an expression of curiosity.

"Because I told Elrond to hide it under the cushion for the past two hours," Illyria answered plainly.

Maedhros' entire body jerked before he bolted right up from his seat.

Illyria decided to stand up at the same time, her magic prepared to interfere if he did react differently. Beside her, Elrond was prepared to stand up and help, along with Glorfindel's preparedness.

No one moved a muscle other than the red-haired elf, who shakily brought his hands down and moved the cushion he had been sitting on.

In a small yet concentrated light, the Silmaril shone – perfectly intact between the cushions of the armchair. Illyria held her breath as she saw him draw his hand down closer to the jewel. She could sense him panicking every second in his mind, his fëa conflicted as he gradually drew his fingers onto the surface of the jewel.

And with a touch, Maedhros' skin contacted the crystalline surface of the jewel.

He sharply inhaled.

But to her and everybody's surprise: he showed no physical pain.

The Silmaril didn't burn in his hand.

His hand was still shaking as he held it in the palm of his actual hand, not even the bionic hand he had. Maedhros' actual hand for crying out loud.

Illyria felt a ray of surprise and relief as much everybody somehow did.

Maedhros on the other hand, after the quick wave of shock, looked back at her with absolute betrayal.

"You..."

He can be mad at her for as long as he wanted, but nothing would have let him near the Silmaril hadn't she pulled that stunt. Illyria wasn't going to bow down now after clearly seeing that the jewel didn't burn him.

Illyria pointed out plainly, "See, it doesn't affect you anymore." She then paused, peering her eyes at the jewel as she continued, "I'm not completely sure if the Oath was cut off or it was suppressed by the different worlds."

"It doesn't burn?" Elros asked, his eyes never leaving Maedhros and the Silmaril.

Maedhros staying silent and unmoving clearly answered that question.

Glorfindel, who was perched leaning against the bookshelf, book abandoned, intervened. "I assume Varda's enchantment doesn't follow into this world." He then pointed out, "But what we should be asking is how did one of Morgoth's soldiers enter this world if we have a Silmaril. None of us opened any portals."

Her brother was right. The Silmaril Elrond hadn't been the one to open it, so it must've been the other two. And that meant either Morgoth finally released most of his army out and discovered a way to get through into this world using either Eärendil's jewel or the one that should be in the sea.

Or someone was playing a piss-poor joke of 'Hide the Jewel' and knew how to summon Balrogs from the Void.

Did the balrog appear because of them or was it the very jewel that attracted it?

Alright, Strange, too many theories, not enough context.

As Maedhros held out the Silmaril, still astonished at even its presence in the room. Elrond picked up the satchel that was on the ground, taking out the box before gesturing for him to place it inside. Once the lid shut, Illyria felt the energy and light reduce slightly though still sensing the warmth envelope of its power surrounding the box.

With a swipe of her hand, she brought the box into her dimension pocket – somehow sensing the relief in the room grow once the energy field of the Silmaril disappeared. She then piped in, "We should focus everything that we know so far."

Most nodded their heads whilst Glorfindel spoke, "Then we should listen to Elrond then."

It was there, the next part of their night commenced.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

As soon as everything was explained to each and every one of them, Illyria wasn't sure if she was exhausted or not. Elros on the other hand was pretty much drunk-dozing by the end of it, and Maedhros kindly offered his bed for the Peredhel twin who didn't speak of it and stalked up the steps. She knew the other three would be sober in a couple of hours, so kindly excused herself to head up.

She knew Maedhros would return to the workshop to busy his hands, allowing his mind to clear as the humming of the television muffled from the living room. Her brother must be in the living room, hopefully not breaking anything and just simply reading through the books she had.

Once she arrived up to her room, a reasonably sized one for a student house, she turned on the lamps before going through her nightly routine – allowing the silence to think alone.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

"Círdan has informed us that ships have arrived from the west," Elrond told them. "From Valinor, but he was unsure of which of the Eldar they are."

She felt Glorfindel and Maedhros tense as they gazed at each other.

Glorfindel was the one to elaborate, "I believe, and from my knowledge: they are the Noldor."

Elrond's eyes widened as he asked, "Whatever for?" He wondered, "They would not risk for another doom nor an exile again."

No one, not even her, had the guts to tell the Peredhel twins the same thing Glorfindel revealed to them two days ago. She just had to thank Elros for demanding, allowing Illyria to be the one to share the news.

"Some of the Valar – mainly Námo – might want us gone."

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

There was a knock on the door the moment she sat at the foot of her bed. She signalled for the person to enter, hearing the squeaking of the hinges and the soft click of the door as it shut.

When she glanced upwards, Illyria sent him a small smile.

"Come sit down, Elrond." She patted the empty space next to her with her free hand. "I know I've said it enough, but I miss you."

The clothes Elrond wore were too long for him, borrowing from Maedhros' closet mostly had that effect on people. She would have to get something for her and Glorfindel to wear, enough to last a week at least. Illyria could only thank the coincidence that her mother was returning to New York from New Asgard tomorrow. Darcy would be able to get them some clothes either in London or New York for them to wear.

She might have to join her with the quick shopping trip since the two elves can't exactly wander out yet without causing questions.

He walked over, lowering himself down beside her as she continued to untangle her plait. Elrond replied kindly, "I have missed you as well."

Illyria looked up to him, the dim light seemingly letting his face appear more haunted than ever before. She whispered to him, "I am sorry it's been thirty-nine years for you."

Leaning closer to him, Elrond carefully brought his arm around her waist until they were huddling close at the edge of the bed. She allowed her head to lay on his shoulder, inhaling deeply before making an odd face. Yeah, smelling Maedhros' cologne on Elrond was weird.

When she glanced up to him, Elrond quietly murmured, "Never apologise." He brought his free hand to clasp her's, drawing circles on the back of her hand. "You are here, finally. And I get to see your face once more."

Honestly, she really wondered why she deserved someone like him. Little old her who couldn't stand men of her age and either thought of them as her siblings or friends. Just look at her with Harley and Maedhros.

Excluding the fact that she was married to the half-elf beside her in her past life, there was no doubt that Illyria Strange had finally accepted defeat to her heart. Damn her and Elemmírë being too much alike when it came to love. Perhaps it was what they had finally got them to connect after all this time of fighting.

Both she and Elemmírë loved Elrond Peredhel to no fault.

Speaking of Elemmírë, she muttered an apology as she pushed herself away from him, standing up to head towards her desk. Sat close beside her laptop, Illyria picked up the navy object and spun back to walk over to him.

Plopping back next to him, she brought her legs up cross-legged before placing the bound book onto her lap. "I kept your journal." She began opening the journal, flicking through the later pages and took out the pen that she placed between the pages. Illyria grinned as she said, "Look. I started writing when I got back."

To be more specific, she started writing after recovering as well as caring for Maedhros. Not to mention having to deal with Quentin Beck and the Multiverse somehow leaking through. There was also her father having to deal with a bunch of Eternals, Chthon, Mephisto, Wakanda, the post-snap world and just...so much more. [4][5][6]

Yet she had the time to go to therapy with her favourite Fëanorian and write about her past. She kept most of what Elemmírë wrote in the past intact, the sketch of her face still tucked into the pages of the older pages. She had also started memorizing how to write Tengwar again, having found out that her brain re-wired itself to not only read it fluently but write it.

With a little help from Maedhros, Illyria was able to get some sense with the mixture of Sindarin and Quenya language down. It didn't say however her handwriting was back to its beautiful calligraphy style. She only wished her writing was as good as some fancy printed font.

Whilst she had been twirling the pen around her fingers, Elrond had rose his hand to stop her and eye it with interest. "This pen has ink," He said.

Illyria chuckled inwardly at the awe he wore, intrigued at such a small piece of stationery. If he was this fascinated by modern things, how the heck was he going to react with a computer or tablet?

(Secretly, she found it adorable the six-thousand-year-old half-elf could find a pen amazing.)

As he tried writing it on the corner of the blank pages, he wrote his name in the Tengwar scripture as she spoke, "BIC pens are the evolutionary quill and ink." She'll have to bring a pack of them back despite how Uncle Wong loathed her choosing the cheap things over a proper fountain pen or an actual quill.

Once she glanced down, she found that Elrond had written her name as well. To her surprise, he had chosen Elemmírë first before writing Illyria down which reminded her something to mention to him.

As he placed down the pen back down onto the journal, Illyria cleared her throat and told him, "I didn't want to tell it aloud since I just didn't want to burden háno and Elros yet of it...but I've almost got most of my memories."

Their eyes met as they rose their faces up. Elrond let out a small breath as he asked quietly, "Truly?" He echoed, "At such a short time?"

Illyria tilted her head to the side and hummed, "For you, it might seem. But with the help of a therapist and the help of all the recorded nightmares and dreams I've had; I've been able to connect most of the things of my past life." She gestured to the thing on her lap and explained, "The journal mostly helped me to kind of know it, in a way, that wasn't just facts being thrown at me. I read how I felt, how I felt before I...you know."

Yeah, because clearly, you should be able to recall how you died. No. Illyria had tried. She tried to open her mind and see past through all the horrors that were in the back of her head. But every time she got closer to that moment in Angmar, she could bear it.

But everything else, she knew to some extent of what happened. Elemmírë had a vivid memory of certain parts of her life to which she wasn't surprised. She remembered little parts with certain people, especially with things whom she was close to.

With a ragged breath, she stretched her back and continued, "But I don't know anything past Arwen's birth. The oldest I can recall is when Arwen was hardly a child and that is all. I can't remember Angmar or anything that happened between that. My memory of Angband is...it's hard to remember that as well. But I know about us, and that's better than anything."

She thought that Elrond would be upset at her, or a little disappointed at least at her for the lack of effort of remembering more. To her surprise, his eyes were watery.

Bringing his hand to caress her cheek, Elrond looked at her with light in his eyes. "Words cannot describe how happy and proud I am of you, melmenya." His voice was sincere and filled with joy. "I am glad that you are starting to remember things you wish to know of."

Illyria opened her mouth. "But..."

However, he stopped her immediately, "Illyria, I know what you will say. And no. I shall not allow you to choose between Elemmírë and Illyria." Elrond strongly responded, "You are your own person; I will not have you choose because of what we had and what we have as of now as Illyria. I...I cannot push you to life such as that when I know you had struggled who you were even as Elemmírë."

That was not what she was expecting.

In fact, she thought he was about to tell her that he didn't want her anymore because she wasn't really Elemmírë anymore. Elemmírë goddamn Oialëa, who forgot her other name because she had lost her innocence and happiness because of all the war she had through. The one who had been beside him all these years and was immortal in not just body, but mind, heart and soul.

And Illyria Strange, she was just a twenty-two-year-old sorceress and astrophysicist. Plain as day with no achievement in ruling or leading anybody. She wasn't a lady. Heck, she can't even sit up straight right now and act all nice and proper.

Despite everything: he was saying he accepted her for who she was. As a person and as a human.

A mortal.

"Do you remember what I said, before the battle?" Elrond asked.

Her chest tightened as she felt the memories resurface. He meant the moment he told her that he was her husband and what he said afterwards.

Illyria didn't hesitate to reply, "Yes." She quickly added, "But Elrond, I don't want to hurt you. I don't want you to have to watch me—" She stopped as he pressed finger upon her lips.

Their faces were essentially so close that she could feel his breath on her cheek.

With such calmness and yet boldness, Elrond stated, "If it is my fate to love you forever, I shall accept the choice."

Her heart must have broken about ten times then, repeatedly repaired and shattered just by a single blow of a hammer.

The words he was saying to her: they were true and there and yet Illyria couldn't accept them – not fully. She wanted to cry and scream back, to tell him that it was wrong to choose this path for himself. It was bad enough that he had waited over a thousand years for her past life to finally acknowledge that Elrond Peredhel loved her unconditionally. Now he was choosing to love the same woman that will eave him in sixty years' time.

What the hell happened to him? Did he hit his head on something and now all his love wires were just jumbled up?

Perhaps he needs a trip to Dr Barnard next time.

She inhaled sharply and pushed away his hand, pulling away so she could simply stare at him in disbelief.

"And what of Arwen?" Illyria's voice cracked slightly, keeping the energy in her body collected.

He parroted back, "You know of Arwen?" Elrond paused before he sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, "I should not be surprised."

Refraining from snorting, Illyria asked instead: "What do you think of them?" She reached this time to take both his hands into hers, letting herself try to sense his fëa. Illyria spoke softly, "It's hurting you, isn't it?"

Elrond's hold tightened but she did not waver as he closed his eyes and drew in a breath. How could it not hurt him? His daughter—no, their daughter had chosen to love a mortal as well. So why was he making himself suffer when he would have to experience the same with her?

There were certain parts she hated having to know about the future, or what was supposed to be the expected future of Arda; this was one of these times. In a way, she was happy and ecstatic Arwen Undómiel would be with the man she loved at the end of the story. But accounting now that she was her daughter, she realised it was an entirely different feeling.

Two years she had been thinking about it, contemplating nights and days with various people of it. Most have been with Maedhros, though she often wished she did speak about it to her parents.

What do you say to your dad that you have a daughter wanting to lose her immortality to a man and you don't know how you feel about it? There wasn't anything in the 'Parenting for Dummies' book about immortal children.

But for Elrond, he had known Arwen better than her now. He knew her as a father and not a character whilst she knew her in just a short span of moments and memories that she'll never be able to recall. Illyria would help him, but she knew it was his choice on the matter.

He said, "I don't want her to experience the pain. The same pain I have with you. She will lose you before losing Aragorn."

"I know," Illyria gazed away, eyeing anywhere that wasn't him. With a ragged sigh, she continued, "I don't feel it now, but I understand to some extent. But allow her to speak of her mind, let her explain. If I were her, I'd rather have enjoyed a short life filled with love and happiness than choose to mourn and never experience love like you."

When she returned to look back at him, Elrond's tears had dried up as he spoke, "I believe she bares the same soul like mine." He paused, "...Much like Lúthien."

He said it as if it was some curse. Perhaps, in some cryptic way, it was like that.

An immortal loving a mortal. It was like hearing the tales of certain people here on Earth for Illyria. Like Sersi and her love for humankind. Like Wanda and her love for her children that had torn universes apart. [7]

Like her father, the Sorcerer Supreme, who loved an almost ordinary woman.

What was she then in this?

Would she be like Beren then? Like Andreth?

Realizing that tragic tale Illyria could only clarify what she wanted, "I'd rather not have a love like Andreth and Aegnor, Elrond. A love that would never move. Frozen like a statue that would never be seen and to stay there as the world ages."

No. She didn't want that kind of love. She knew herself and Arwen enough that they weren't letting the belief of two races change their decisions.

She stared at his eyes and never wavered her voice as the words left her mouth, "I don't want that for her, especially when her heart is like yours. You waited almost two thousand years, idiot."

The end caught him out of nowhere, his lips twitching slightly before shook his head. Elrond said, "Everyone who knew us wondered how much I could take the pain. To wait for you."

Illyria simply gazed at him, entwining her fingers around his as she spoke, "Because Elrond Peredhel, you have a strong heart. Like Arwen and the twins. My mother holds her heart much like you as well, and I wonder how on earth she does it." She tried her best to change the tone, quipping back, "I guess I'll need to introduce you to her tomorrow. I'm going to speak with my father tomorrow about the Silmaril and of our plans."

That was the right time for her mind to roll back to reality and she hated her damn brain for doing it especially with Elrond still feeling sombre at the shit she had said. But when she let go of him, she was glad that he appeared to understand the change of tone. They now had to focus on how to tackle Morgoth, Sauron, Saruman and the Valar. Of course, not all at once; they had a brief plan forming and that was good enough.

But Illyria knew everything was connected to jewels and the only way she could understand the Silmarils was probably to talk to her father and see if he knew anything.

Scratch that. She needed to try and extract the information her father wasn't willing to share.

Years growing up with him as an adult, Illyria's pet peeve about her father was his ability to push away conversations that were too touchy. Tomorrow, she needed to get through the tough exterior Stephen Strange had held for almost ten years and see if there was more to what he knows now.

Because Illyria had an itching feeling he knew more about Lokachari.

Speaking of touchy conversations, she rose from the edge of the bed and placed down her journal back on the desk. Soon as she did this, she paced around the room to think before staring at the door.

Illyria inhaled, "I know you're not sure what to say to him. I think he's much more unsure. But at some point, do try to talk to him."

When she spun on her heels, Elrond was standing already – a guilty expression on his face.

"I know." He swallowed before glancing away to stare out from the window. "Maedhros...and Maglor. It's difficult to talk about them when one of them is truly here."

Something was stuck in her throat the moment she heard that name. Even Maedhros never mentioned their names. It was always my brother or their Quenya names. So, to hear it from Elrond, it sounded foreign to her but also foreign to him – like he was saying something he hadn't said in centuries.

Well, technically they haven't.

Gradually, she gravitated towards him whilst she answered, "Don't worry, I was shocked as well when he fell into this world." Illyria pointed, "I slapped his face."

The smug face she gave him caused him to roll his eyes. Now that was a little victory for her.

He smiled slightly as he replied, "Typical of you, melmenya." Elrond admitted, "And despite not finding it amusing, I would have to agree. I would have reacted hadn't you were there to not stop me and Elros."

She hummed in disagreement, "No, you did pretty well. Even after talking for hours about a sensitive topic: you held yourself back." She gave him a small smile. "Don't think of yourself short, Elrond. I'm proud of you too."

When she saw his face lighten then, Illyria had to use all her effort not to cry with happy tears. She hoped she remembered this conversation despite being a little intoxicated by alcohol. She forgot that they had even drunk tonight.

Elrond gazed down at her and quietly murmured, "You have become rather wise."

Wise might have been an overstatement. She would never be as wise as him or any of the other elves she knew.

'Oh Elrond...' She clouded her thoughts from him as she stared up at him with a sad smile. 'One day I'll tell you how much I've changed.'

Turning her attention to how close they were again, she slowly shuffled away as she excused herself, "I'm going to meditate before I sleep. You can browse through my collection of books; we'll be going to New York tomorrow to consult with my dad and Darcy—"

As she walked past him, he stopped her by placing his hands over her cheeks and bringing his lips down to hers.

Talk about smooth, Illyria wasn't sure if she was experiencing another weird trip through the multiverse or it was the alcohol-infused with the bees in her stomach. Her head had gotten lightheaded the moment she relaxed into him, shutting her eyes as she surrendered to the kiss.

Kissing someone wasn't something she was proficient in. She had hardly kissed anybody before, only small pecks on the cheek or on the forehead. So, to say that Elrond Peredhel was her first proper kiss was something to cherish.

She was not including the kiss up in Ravenhill because hello: she was rather dying in his arms when they did so. And she was not going to accept her romantic story to be Romeo and Juliet.

But this: no words could describe how much she felt it. (Okay probably not the taste of alcohol in their breaths but it was ten times better than tasting blood.) How long have they've been there? Fuck knows and who cared when she was with the ellon she loved.

As they parted with shallow breaths, Illyria opened her eyes and saw the panic in his eyes.

Elrond muttered out, "I'm sorry—"

Seriously?

Illyria had to stifle her laugh as she shook her head. "No. That was...I needed that." She bit her lip, her smile never leaving her lips.

Elrond relaxed the moment he understood she wasn't angry at his sudden action, smiling contently back before placing a chaste kiss on her forehead. He inhaled as he whispered, "Calanya."

'I...'

She was too nervous to say it allowed let alone think it. Were they going too fast? Was she asking too much for him?

They stared at each other whilst she heard Elrond think back. 'Not tonight, Illyria. I will wait until you are ready.'

'When we're both ready,' Illyria corrected.

He replied, 'When we're both ready.'

____

[1] - Mephisto: An extra-dimensional demon who rules a pocket dimension called Hell but it's neither the Hell from the Christian religion.
[2] - Vine Reference: "Don't Fuck with me, I have the power of god and anime on my side!"
[3] - Nexus Being: Rare individuals with the ability to affect the probability and thus the future, altering the flow of the Universal Timestream.
[4] - Quentin Beck: The antagonist from Spiderman: FFH and was once an inventor from SI. He created B.A.R.F.
[5] - Eternals: Humanoids created by the Celestials to defeat the Deviants who were the other beings created by the same beings. Often known as gods to human civilisations and mythology.
[6] - Chthon: One of the most powerful Elder Gods of Earth who resides in the Nether Dimension adjacent to the Earth plane. He created the Witches, Werewolves and Vampires.
[7] - Sersi: One of the Eternals and known for one who fell in love with a human mortal. She does have a love interest in Ikaris.

____

A/N: Oh we love Maedhros, Elrond and Elros meeting again. Oh, and Illyria and Glorfindel are there too. And Elrond and Illyria's reunion is the sweetest and most relieving thing I've written. Only took seven chapters to finally reunite them.

Another night and another double update. :) It's because I have no time tomorrow so I thought of doing it now.

Edited: 18/01/2022