10 | The Breaking of the Vantarëa

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Maedhros Feanorion | The Red Wolf

Location: Forlond, Lindon, Middle Earth, Arda

Time: March 2981 T.A

Leaving Imladris had been a smooth transition. 

The majority of Elrond's host remained, with those under Glorfindel's orders to come with their Lord and Lady of Rivendell as well as the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower. Those who remained, Maedhros knew, would protect the valley, and allow the city to continue recovering. Considering now that the risk from Saruman was gone, their focus was to keep those from Eriador safe.

It was why, despite the displeasure of his brothers, the Ambarussa would spend some time scouting Eriador and the outskirts of the Shire. Caranthir was hesitant but silently obliged, assured by Amrod and Amras that they'd have each other's backs whilst they were acting as temporary rangers.

As for the Fëanorian host, they were all heading back despite it being a quick meeting with his uncles and his cousins. He didn't like it, but Maglor's suggestion had him tempted. Perhaps if he could learn whatever Maglor and Glorfindel could do, there may be a chance for them to live through the final battle. Just like how Illyria was going south with Maglor.

However, before they would be going, Maglor and Illyria would return with him to Earth for some extra business. He wasn't sure exactly what it was though he remained quiet and trusted him enough that he knew what he was doing.

They portaled everyone through, the Fëanorian host getting ready to return to their temporary homes and places throughout Mithlond and Forlond. When they were all there, Elrond and Illyria decided they would meet with Círdan, Gil-Galad and Celebrían whilst he, Celegorm and Caranthir would head to Forlond with most of their hosts.

Glorfindel had decided to come with them, despite Celegorm and Caranthir's suspicion and Maedhros remained neutral between them all. Glorfindel must have known and just remained in his natural self, too optimistic as he told Maedhros that he would do all he could to push his uncles to agree to help.

Though Maedhros didn't need that assurance. He knew already, despite certain doubts of some people, their plan would work. He believed in those he trusted longer than knowing the Balrog Slayer himself. He had complete faith in Elrond, his foster nephew showing more confidence in himself despite the drawbacks since the battle of Imladris. Perhaps it was the encouragement of Maglor or the closeness between him and Illyria.

Even then, Maedhros knew he had passed the work in good hands.

The other pair was the one who he had been nervous to confront ever since they had left each other at such a devastating meeting. But he buried that reunion in his head as he stood in front of the door, taking a deep breath to calm himself.

'You could do this, Maitimo.' He thought to himself, exhaling. 'Remember what Darcy spoke of. He will understand and he will never judge you for things you have done.'

His knuckles hit the white-painted door in three consecutive knocks.

Maedhros' spine tightened when he heard his muffled voice order him to enter.

He didn't realise the door had opened, his hand still up in a fist when he looked slightly down at his grey eyes.

Fingon's mouth was parted slightly, his voice breathless as he spoke, "You have returned." His eyes lit up as he smiled amusedly at him. "Word of your victory was rather quick."

Maedhros was a little too stunned to speak.

"Maitimo?"

He blinked several times until he cleared his throat, quickly hiding his flushing face as he muttered, "Yes, yes..." He began to scratch the back of his neck as he added quickly, "Thank portals."

Fingon wryly smiled before he gestured for him to enter his room. His family and lords were staying at the edge of Forlond, evident by the view of the river and coast by the balcony and windows. As Maedhros followed through, he must have looked like an idiot standing in the middle of the suite, finding the place decorated in a mix of what Fingon liked and what was left here from the previous owners.

As the door closed, Fingon walked over to him. How long have they not seen one another? Almost three months?

To him, it felt so long. So much had changed and yet Fingon appeared just as he once was, with beautiful golden strands within the copper dark locks. His hair was only partly braided, only the upper part designed in a simple braid. He wore a muted-coloured tunic with a robe over it, the Noldorin sigil of his house still sewed in a pattern over it. A simple circlet upon his brow.

Even so simple, Fingon appeared ever so stunning in Maedhros' mind.

It would seem Maedhros wasn't the only one staring at the other as Fingon broke the silence as he asked him, "How...what of your brothers?"

Maedhros took a second before he felt his voice had grown ragged slightly, clearing his throat again. "Moryo and Tyelko are here to help Lord Glorfindel and Elrond with you. The Ambarussa, I had them patrol Eriador surrounding the Shire. They will return once a week I believe to report any sightings north." As Fingon nodded, Maedhros continued, "I heard more about what has happened."

Fingon's hands fidgeted together as he nodded stiffly. "Aunt Findis is Queen of the Noldor." He revealed, making Maedhros' breath grow shallow. "And Lady Idril is to finalize an alliance with Lord Thingol along with Lady Finduilas. As of Orodreth and Angrod with King Olwë. That is all we were able to receive."

All he could do was stare down in front of him, the lounge table looking quite interesting. But inside, all Maedhros could hear was himself trying to analyze what he just spoke about.

Where was their mother? Why hadn't she been mentioned in any of Idril's messages? What had happened to force their aunt to take the title? Have the Valar already agreed on what they would do to them? Did Morgoth know?

Maedhros shut his eyes and took a shuddered breath, up until he rose his head and stared at Fingon.

"...Grandfather is under hostage then," Maedhros voice was tight, unsure if he wanted to be angry. Perhaps it was inevitable. If they had to blame any of them, it would have to be the leader of the Noldor, and that would be Finwë Noldoran. The king who might as well have begun all of this. Internally he cursed in both his mother's tongue and in Quenya, beginning to pace between the sofas. He murmured, "Tirion is under watch then, and so will most of the other cities and court."

Fingon had stood idly in front of him, nodding as replied, "Yes." He lifted his shoulders as he inhaled, his brows moving to a serious expression as he explained: "My father and Uncle Arafinwë are attempting to find some more news with Lady Melian but she only speaks to Lord Círdan and Lord Dior."

Stopping in his tracks, Maedhros let out a final breath. Perhaps he should decline the offer Maglor had suggested. There was just too much at stake to do. And it wasn't as if he didn't trust Fingon out of all people. Dear Eru...the ellon before was the only person he could trust nowadays. Apart from Elrond and Illyria, Maedhros didn't need to bombard someone with questions just to show an ounce of trust.

Because he knew him inside out. His entire life in fact.

It was why it hurt him then to finally say what he had to.

Maedhros looked at him, attempting to suppress the guilt as he walked over to him. "I am not staying for long." He stared down at his love, their faces growing closer. "Á apsene ni, Findekáno." [1]

Feeling his breath brush his neck, he felt the warmth make his skin tingle. The closeness between them urged him to take him there now; to bring his lips down to him and just whisper back to him everything he wanted to apologise for.

For leaving him.

For letting him die.

For breaking his promise to always be there for him.

Fingers lay across the side of his face. Maedhros opened his eyes to find his, gazing longingly up at him. A sad smile formed on Fingon's face.

"Istan," Fingon whispered up to him, his other hand taking his other cheek. His smile grew slightly as he continued, oddly enough changing the subject. He quietly said, "I had to curtesy to speak to your new sister. She is a good addition to your family." [2]

Maedhros could feel his fingers against his warming cheeks, his arms beginning to pull Fingon closer. He could still remember his little titled sister just hours ago, Illyria's face giving that scolding expression as she told him that if he didn't meet Fingon before he left she was going to control his fëa to make him come back and do it.

Of course, it was a joke, though he couldn't help but be a little fearful of Illyria's threat. "Sometimes I don't even know if we are family at all, but we are getting there. Slowly but surely to my hope." Maedhros could tell the mention of family caused him to grow tense. He added, "But I can tell yours have not been so knitted."

Huffing out a breath, Fingon glanced to the side where the doors were before he shook his head, "I am frustrated with Írissë. She wishes for Maeglin to have more part in the decisions with the Valar but Turukáno and I doubt he would be of help." He moved his hands onto Maedhros shoulder, "And Turukáno...I feel that he knows something but speaks nothing of it. Ammë and Elenwë assure me it may just be the fact that Idril is at risk."

Maedhros easily took that moment to pull him into an embrace. With Fingon's head upon his chest, he remained at ease, expecting that he would have tensed as they touched. But to his surprise, he relaxed – letting his body mould.

They hugged one another in the middle of the suite, just letting the sound of Fingon's breath keep him in comfort. He wouldn't be surprised if he could hear his heart practically thumping against his ribcage.

"Have you spoken to Lord Glorfindel of this?" Maedhros asked quietly, his hand instinctively crawling up Fingon's back, soothing the dark tresses. "He and Turukáno know one another. He may have sway in decisions between you, your father and Uncle Arafinwë."

Fingon inhaled, his voice a little muffled as he answered: "I will try and do so."

The hands upon Maedhros' shoulders shifted, snaking up around his neck. Before long, he found himself staring down at Fingon's – so close and yet so far.

Fingon's eyes were glistening. He knew those eyes.

Upon the battlefield.

Upon bodies and corpses.

Maedhros whispered, "Findekáno."

"Fate seems to know that this is wrong," He spoke, his finger now upon the back of Maedhros' head. He was fiddling with his hidden braids underneath his ears. Fingon stared back, "But why does it feel so right? That I..."

"I wish it may be," He pressed his forehead against his, inhaling the comforting scent. The smell of the saltiness of the coast mixed with ink and metal. Maedhros whispered, his voice breaking. "I wish I do not have to leave so soon."

Fingon's nose touched his, hearing his answer soothingly, "I know you too well that you're desperate to ask me to come with you. But we play our duty. Like your duty to your father...your family."

"Our family. You are more than just anything to me," Those words that escaped his mouth made him retract slightly. Did he get it wrong?

Though as he opened his eyes, he saw Fingon's smile once more. His heart swelled as he pulled away.

Softly under his breath, Fingon asked him. "Come back alive, will you?"

That smile was too contagious, causing him to twitch his lips as he murmured in reply, "If you stay alive as well, melmenya."

He leaned his head back, taking more focus on the braid hidden. A braid which Fingon had once done for him when they promised each other they would care for one another no matter what. Maedhros had kept that braid after Fingon's death, though hiding it as the more he lost himself after those years.

But now, perhaps he should start showing it. Maybe add a new bead just as the dwarves did.

"You better do. I'll drag your entire behind out of the Halls just to kill you again," Fingon scolded him playfully, causing him to chuckle.

Maedhros replied, "Why do I feel as if that is for certain."

"Of course it is. It's a promise Russo," Fingon simply stated, his smile brightening than the very lights around them.

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Glorfindel | The Balrog Slayer

Location: Mithlond, Lindon, Middle Earth, Arda

"Laurefindelë!" He screamed, hand grasping all his might against the ice.

Glorfindel's eyes bulged out, sprinting towards his parents. Upon the chasm was his father. Where was Ammë?

No...

Wrapped in his other arm was a little bundle. Elemmírë crying and screaming as Glorfindel turned his back, laying back as he tried to grab for his father's arm.

He cried, "Help! Please someone help me!"

He shouted back at him, hoping either Hestondur or Ecthelion would be near. But with the winter winds and snow practically freezing against his skin, none could hear nor see them.

When Glorfindel glanced down at his father, hand trying to reach out as he lay on his front, his father winced as he cried, "Take her! Take her!"

And so he did, taking Elemmírë with a grunt as he cradled her with her arms.

However, saving his father was too late.

As the ice beneath him began to crack, all Glorfindel saw was the fear and love in his foster father's gaze.

Within his arms, Elemmírë's cries could rupture his ears. Her power was radiating from her, the force sending a wave of light within them.

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He couldn't believe he still remembered that day. 

The day when his (their) parents had died.

 A pack of orcs and wolves had hunted them across the open plains of ice. They had fought all they could, forced to split when the winds began to blow once more. Turgon's host was at the rear, making sure the rest of what was left of them could flee to safety.

They hadn't realised they were standing underneath an entire chasm of ice, underneath them were endless caverns that many began to fall.

There were times in his long life when he wondered what it would have been like if their parents had lived. Perhaps his sister wouldn't have to live without her parents. Maybe she wouldn't have been forced into the politics of their people considering it was their father who focused more on advising.

Maybe they would be having this conversation with Elemmírë about being half-Ainu. Instead, it had been Saruman.

Not him.

Saruman, the traitorous maia that he should have known better about. Even if he was in the meetings of the White Council, doubtful much like Galadriel had been during their discussions, Glorfindel understood to be quiet. It would have been too risky to show concern for such things as power surges across the land. Of necromancers who knew of the whereabouts of a sorceress with the same aura as Elemmírë.

And then Saruman had finally connected the dots. He was smart to connect the similarities of Illyria's power and the Silmaril he had taken from its guardian. Cunning to let the sorcerer all those decades ago reveal how dangerous Illyria was to their world.

The first thing he assumed when Illyria confronted him of it was the rugged ellon who had made Elrond freeze at the spot, understanding by those eerily blue eyes and similar features that it was the Fëanorian. Lokachari. Glorfindel had thought Maglor had told Illyria who she was, his anger almost spitting out hadn't he seen how broken-hearted his sister was.

She was angry at him.

And he deserved it.

All he wanted was to protect her. He never wanted to give her all of this. The responsibility, the burden which came as what he had learnt having to raise Elemmírë throughout Gondolin. Every smile the little elfling gave her, asking more and more about why she was so different to the other elfling children. Why the others couldn't tap into their elven magic compared to herself. Her bright eyes were almost shimmering and glowing despite her age.

Whilst the eyes of the Eldar glowed of those from Aman, Elemmírë Fealassie's was like a beacon within them.

And for Glorfindel, they were golden whenever she began to shift sometimes.

When his parents first revealed to him that they weren't truly his parents, something inside him sort of knew. Like a voice that irked him when he was all but a child. Back when he lived in Valimar and had met the other Vanyarin children of his age. Their golden hair shimmered under the lights of Telperion and Laurelin, reflecting its light like a glistening mirror.

But his own hair...his hair glowed on its own.

A cousin of Ecthelion's had made Ecthelion upset, causing Glorfindel to grow angry and defended his best friend. Soon enough he realised that his hair began to glow, and the pupil of his eyes went white as they shone.

Of course, his young self didn't understand that not every elf could do it. And by the time his parents told him, he understood that it was something that could become dangerous if he couldn't control himself. His hröa wasn't supposed to hold the power which was inside of him or so his true mother revealed him.

Or whom he believed to have sired him.

Varda had been the one who had taught him. The Queen of the Stars who had aided him nurtured him to control how to control his Ainu blood. She had helped him all these years, becoming the second mother he had come to love. And it was why he accepted to protect Elemmírë, knowing by the letters and promise he had taken to be truly under her name.

In some cases, it wounded him sometimes. Growing up, having to live amongst the Eldar who looked at him as the odd one. He brought no craft to the Noldor, only his stories and his ability to lead. He had tried to create such light even before Elemmírë existed, only to end up causing more damage than aid with his fána exposed. He could only thank Ecthelion and his parents, assured by them that he was more than just the blood he possessed.

Only one knew what he looked like beyond his hröa, but with his abilities – he could see from time to time his sister's fána.

When he understood that those were beginning to notice what she was, those such as Lord Círdan, Lady Galadriel and to no surprise Mithrandir and Curunir: Glorfindel knew that he had to do something. He needed to protect the secret that could potentially destroy her. He just didn't expect Angmar to have happened.

Now...she may be able to fully transform into what she was meant to be. But under the so-called protection and assurance of a Fëanorian out of all elves.

If only she could understand him. Illyria didn't know how far Maglor Fëanorian had done, knowing him as now one of Ulmo's chosen when Lady Melian had discovered him transpiring with Lúthien Tinúviel out of all people. Despite not knowing exactly the truth of what is to come, he dreaded how much Maglor had twisted the choices that Lúthien had predicted.

However: he had no choice.

Even when he was still trying to dissuade her from taking that risk.

"Illyria, please just let me speak," Glorfindel was hurrying to catch up with her as soon as he spotted her leaving her temporary quarters.

They returned to Mithlond once he and Maedhros conversed with both Fingolfin and Finarfin, agreeing that Glorfindel would overtake matters in helping with the armies whilst Maedhros would seek advanced training from Earth. The older Finwëan seemed concerned and a little doubtful of his nephew's notice but agreed – understanding that perhaps whatever sorcery he possessed may help. The younger remained quiet but agreed as well, though when Maedhros left to go and discuss details with Fingon, Finarfin had suggested one other thing.

When Glorfindel had noted it to Illyria, to his surprise she had agreed – albeit a little too enthusiastically. Though that didn't mean her thoughts of Glorfindel had changed, finding himself stopping as she spun around to glare up at him.

He sucked in his breath when he could sense his fëa almost feel like choking, the burning in his chest as her eyes flashed in an eerie ocean blue.

When Erestor tried to describe to him how his fëa felt when Illyria had killed those Dunlanders, Glorfindel couldn't comprehend it. This was not something Elemmírë couldn't even do before. Has she already grown beyond what she once was?

Illyria stated bluntly, "I think it was clear when you glared at Maglor and Maedhros when I said we'd head south."

He tried not to pinch his nose, the headache growing once more as Glorfindel tried all he could to explain, "What you are doing is far beyond dangerous. Far more dangerous than anything you have done and told me."

"I've battled against a collapsing multiverse and battled Sauron and Saruman unprepared." She rambled, rolling her eyes as she huffed: "I think this is less dangerous than that."

The tone caused him to narrow his eyes, his jaw tightening as he spoke a little too harshly, "This is not like Thorin Oakenshield's quest, nésa." He exasperated as he shook his head, "With what has happened, I cannot think what lay beyond the unknown of our own world."

Her eyes narrowed at him. Illyria questioned, "You don't trust Maglor, don't you?"

"And you do?" Glorfindel asked back.

He looked at her with a stern gaze, watching her face falter slightly. Glorfindel sensed his heart cracking. He could tell this was hurting her.

He was hurting her.

She shifted her satchel, glancing down as she sighed. He then heard her begin: "I don't trust any of you," Illyria revealed, quietly telling him as she rose her head. "Not after you hid what I am, I think I have the right to lose the trust we built over the months we've been together."

Glorfindel bit inside his cheek, attempting to stop his eyes from stinging.

All of a sudden a force hit up, arms squeezing his waist.

He slowly opened his eyes only to find the top of Illyria's head, her face smushed at his chest and stomach.

"But it doesn't mean I stopped loving you, Fin." His sister murmured, causing him to hitch. She then glanced up at him, her eyes slightly watery as she spoke, "Even when we might not be blood-related, you are still my brother...and you've been there when people haven't. You and Ecthelion and Hestondur raised me. You helped me establish my place, supported me and Elrond and what we both wanted. I trusted you...but now we have to earn each other's trust back."

He carefully wrapped his arms around her, tucking her back into a hug.

'I love you, even when this shit's happened.' Illyria's voice echoed into his mind. 'You will always be my brother. Biological or not.'

Glorfindel tried to smile through his voice, "And you will always be my sister, Illyria."

She bit her lip before she whispered back, "You'll take care of Elrond, right?" Illyria glanced slightly before she turned back to him. "I'm just afraid about him, you know."

With his lips twitching slightly, he nodded shortly.

The feeling of sadness washed over him when she pulled away, sniffling slightly as she tried to compose herself. They both knew who would see them, and in fact, it would not look good to him if his sister was to leave the household of Círdan in anger and tears.

Nevertheless, he tried to sense hope in her expression – agreeing silently.

He could only hope in what would happen so soon would help whatever that was between them.

All he could promise fate was that Illyria would return alive and promise enough that Elrond would be safe when she is gone.

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They met with the rest of those who would be leaving with Illyria outside the courtyard. He watched as Illyria strode over to where Gil-Galad and Celebrían were standing, saying her farewells once more to the former High King and Queen of Lindon. As he fell into step at Elrond's side, he caught the pained expression to his brother tried to suppress.

If he was indeed fearing for Illyria's life, Glorfindel could not say how truly terrified Elrond was. He was always good at masking his fears, easily taking it with a smile or a frown depending on the person. But for his wife: Elrond only hoped for optimism between them.

Illyria carefully then glided over to the silver-haired elleth, beaming up to Mereneth before the two old friends hugged one another.

She glanced between Celebrían, Gil-Galad, Mereneth and Elrond before she inhaled, giving them a wide smile. "I guess it's going to be a long while until we see each other."

Galadriel's daughter smiled fondly, looking at Illyria as she spoke: "We'll always be with you, Illyria."

To her side, Mereneth smirked and pointed out, "And soon enough, we'll be fighting alongside one another. Just like old times."

Illyria rolled her eyes at Mereneth's comment before her eyes turned to her husband. She told him directly, "I don't think I'll be able to contact the twins and Arwen when I'm away."

Shaking his head, Elrond reached out to take his wife's hands – gazing down at Illyria. "Don't worry too much about it, melmenya." He reassured her, "Just focus on taking care of yourself and each other."

When Illyria gazed down just below his neck, she gestured with her chin: "And you better take care of that sling ring, El Elrond." Illyria muttered, "My father is really going to kill me if he finds out I gave it to a non-sorcerer."

Glorfindel paused and looked. Placed in a silver chain around Elrond's neck was in fact the double-ring relic.

The Teleri-Sinda queen furrowed her brows as she asked, "What ring?" Her eyes then caught Illyria's as they widened, "Oh, you gave him the...?"

"Glad I didn't give it to you, or else I'll really be stepping beyond my rank as Master," Illyria smirked, yelping as Mereneth swatted her arm – causing Illyria to pout jokingly back.

Glorfindel caught Elrond's eyes momentarily, sharing a slight expression. Thank Eru that Illyria had not suggested Mereneth come despite the latter's desperate pleas to come with her, Maglor and Bilbo Baggins. He wasn't certain of the details, but it had taken great persuasion and a deal on a stack of Magazines and dangerous metal arrows from Earth.

He, Elrond and Gil-Galad already knew this was not going to go well.

Elrond eyed the sling ring upon the chain, gulping as he asked, "Are you sure of this?"

His sister firmly nodded, smiling back as she said, "Have a bit of confidence in yourself." Bringing her hands up to his face, she placed a short kiss on his cheek. "I know you can do it. If you need a refresher, I did scribble it down somewhere on how to sort of use it."

Glorfindel immediately chuckled softly as his sister and Elrond decided to share a rather more intimate kiss out in the open. He was used to these sorts of things, back when his sister had been Elemmírë.

Though all he could about then was Erestor and his heart panged longingly for him.

He wished he could have come, but he accepted and understood Erestor's determination in protecting the valley whilst Elrond was away.

Whilst Gil-Galad and Celebrían glanced at one another, Mereneth folded her arms across and smirked as they heard a barking voice from across the courtyard.

Stalking just from the other entrance of the villa was the red-haired Fëanorian, shouting at the blonde/silver sorceress in annoyance. "Illyria!" Maedhros groaned before he snapped again, "You can kiss Elrond when you get back!"

Glorfindel rose a brow in amusement, spotting Illyria pull away as she turned to shout back, "I'm coming!" She rolled her eyes once more before she picked up her satchel, giving Elrond one last smile before she spun on her heels.

He laughed internally when his sister's voice complained in his mind, 'Dude has his Fëanorian panties in a twist.'

It was there a figure walked past them from the staircase, his hair tied back in a braided ponytail as he carried a dark green satchel across him over his gold and green cloak.

When Glorfindel spotted the golden hair and familiar stature striding ahead towards Illyria and Maedhros, the Fëanorian stared confusedly at the new figure. "Now this is something I haven't heard about." He wondered aloud, "Ambaráto?"

Aegnor Finarfinion quirked a brow as he quietly responded, "I am assuming you didn't know."

Glorfindel then saw his sister glance up to the youngest Finarfinion as she stated: "I invited him." She shrugged, adding as well: "Well, Glorfindel suggested it."

"Oh my Eru..." Blue-greyish eyes stared back at him before he bluntly said, "You did not."

Glorfindel hid back his satisfaction as Maedhros' annoyance, simply putting aloud: "May have slipped about your...therapist."

He could actually tell he was livid, especially as Elrond looked even more displeased between him and Illyria, a common thing whenever he and his sister made the most ridiculous decisions.

"Mae, I think it's definitely going to help," Illyria tried to reason with the red-haired ellon.

But he could tell: Maedhros was lost for words at what was happening, perhaps wondering how Maglor was going to take this as well. Rubbing his forehead, he let out a groan before he said, "Just..." He ground his teeth, grumbling in displeasure, "The sooner you leave, at least I'll have a month without you nethig. A vacation, finally."

Hearing Mereneth snort whilst Elrond chuckled along with him, Glorfindel heard Illyria shout back as she tried to catch up to the two tall elves.

A sigh left his mouth as he spotted the navy-robed sorcerer appear in the distance, doing all he could for the past few days to remain hidden from public eyes. As the energy shifted and disappeared, the feeling of sickness washed over him once more.

Glorfindel had to trust Illyria...even if he would never trust Maglor Fëanorion that he would keep her safe from everything.

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Darcy Lewis | Doctor in Astrophysics

Location: New York City, USA, Earth

Time: August 2027

She was just going downtown to get some stuff for Illyria's upcoming birthday (because unfortunately, her fiancé was out of town (or dimension) whilst Wong was busy doing wizard business at Kamar Taj). She could only hope her daughter would turn up despite the times being so out of place.

She was not expecting the entire police force waiting for her the moment she exited the store, her only free hand immediately placing upon his stomach as she stared at the sirens and cars at her.

What the fuck.

Did she do something?

Oh god, what did her family or friends fucking do?

She hoped it wasn't what happened with Peter. Technically she didn't steal the kids, the kids just kind of went to the Sanctum and just lived with them for the following year – unbeknownst by basically everyone whilst the thing about Mysterio and Spiderman tried to pass over.

And she hadn't killed anyone.

Directly.

Yet.

But being her usual quirky self, with her bag of groceries now scattered all over the curb, she asked in a rather composed tone, "May I help you?"

One of the men in dark uniform stepped towards her, the rest remaining in a sort of formation that almost appeared like a barrier. She could sense their presence causing confusion and concern around her. The shopkeeper who she had just been chatting eyeing them with a scrutinizing glare, probably because they had just had a conversation about baby names and the man had a wife pregnant as well.

Well, what could everyone else think? They didn't really think this through.

Here she was: a pregnant woman getting arrested.

She didn't need a simple touch to tell the rest of them. Anger from the grandmother who was beginning to shout, yelling at the silent people in Men in Black themed uniform that she was carrying a baby. She had to thank the guys who were now trying to assure her that they must have gotten the wrong person.

However, Darcy Lewis knew what it was like. After almost twenty years of being in the same situation almost felt like this was a walk in the park. She was just thankful that nobody else around her could see her palms going clammy, her heart speeding as she wanted to cry out and call to anyone. Stephen, Wong, Illyria, Maedhros.

Heck if Maedhros came barging through like a redheaded basketball player it would ease her.

But no she was on her own – with a suspicious man holding some card.

"Dr Lewis," The man who had walked up to her ordered her: "I would like to ask you to come with us."

She carefully looked at him, neither needing her seventh sense to easily tell how much of an ass this guy was. So with her usual tone, she questioned him: "And who are you?"

"National security," The man with the slicked-back hair responded neutrally, "And we are here to ask you in regards to your friends, Miss Illyria Strange and Mister Mae Lewis."

Right, well that crosses out Jane, Valkyrie, and Thor then. But where was Jimmy? Surely if this was an FBI situation...

"What have they done?" Darcy questioned.

The man simply replied, "Nothing yet, but they are known to be highly dangerous enhanced beings from another world according to public knowledge."

Oh no...she knew exactly what this was.

But in another part of her, Darcy could have sworn the Avengers liaison would have noted them first and not little ol' herself. That made her more suspicious if this was really legit.

"And who is asking you?" She asked.

"Miss Niobe Jacobs," His voice failed at how truly impatient he was growing, adding back in a tight voice. "Head of the New Accords."

Who what now?

Then the name clicked in her head. Oh that person...

Oh...

Shit.

Sometimes she wished these things didn't have to happen to her. And despite being an unknown mutant herself, on the outside, she looked more approachable than a sorceress who had glowing blue yellowish eyes, a red-haired elf with scars all over his face, and the Sorcerer Supreme.

Plus, something felt off. For a moment she could sense something around them, making her frown before she could assume anything else. Why did the man seem so...of? Were they Skrulls? They couldn't be as she knew how Skrulls felt like using her little trick. Just like how she knew that Stephen hadn't lied to her that their daughter was in fact a tree and her powers could sense literally an entire aura encircling her.

Yeah, that's gonna be a tough conversation when that happens.

So with an innocent smile, she nodded as she spoke, "Just let me text my fiancé." Darcy whipped out her phone that was in her shoulder, bag whilst gesturing to herself. "I am pregnant, exhibit A."

The man impatiently waited, letting Darcy text quickly to the one person that needed to know.

And as much as she loved Stephen Strange: she knew he would know where she was no matter what time or place.

As she sent the text, she smiled back. Though on the inside, she was shaking with nerves as they escorted her towards the fancy black car parked in the middle of the crossroads.

'What the heck did I just get into,' She thought to herself. Her son must have sensed her fears, a kick causing her to gasp. Darcy could only comfort him by rubbing her hand, thinking back. 'I know little guy. Don't worry. Your papa would know and so would Uncle Wong as well.'

Dug down in her bag, the text had been sent soon enough – hopefully hinting to the person she sent it exactly what she was certain what this was about.

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[1] - Á apsene ni, Findekáno.: "Forgive me, Findekano." In Quenya.
[2] - Istan: "I know." In Quenya.

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A/N: This is basically a sort of interlude within Part 3, mainly because this part is rather long compared to the previous 2.

We also got more Fingon and Maedhros content and I love them so much. It's just a shame they're mostly apart in the fic. Also unfortunate that in future chapters: Maedhros won't be seen until Part 4 :,(. I know I'm sorry but that's how it goes.

As for Glorfindel...we got a glimpse of the past which is going to be vital in the future. Not to mention it will unlock everything that's been going on. ;) And I cannot wait when it happens.

Apologies that I haven't updated. I've been very ill and it's only now that I've been able to get on my computer and edit this. Double update will be done so look out for that.

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Edited: 07/12/2022