25 | Illyria Holmes & The Case of Arthorien

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Illyria Strange | The Eternal

Location: Arthorien, Far Harad, Middle Earth, Arda

Time: April 2981 T.A

Midday came around and forced Illyria to get something to eat.

Their food was delicious and shared the same spice level she used to eat back in Kamar-Taj, making her stomach churn from homesickness rather than hunger itself.

Bilbo of course stuck to the less spicy food, despite his hobbit mindset to try as many new foods as possible. But she figured out that after practically becoming a dwarven consort and an honorary dwarf himself: he cut down his typical meal plan and had gotten used to skipping his second breakfast (outrageous if you asked her). Bilbo merely rose his nose up and defended himself, saying that he was too busy deciphering the rest of the maps she neglected for the past few days, causing her to fall silent.

She was so invested in training that she almost forgot the reason why they were here in the first place. She would have to work on them tonight instead of practising her usual training.

That was why she was going to do her training in the afternoon, as Maglor gave her enough hours before their next lesson. Oerion told her the directions to the training quadrant of the southwest side of Arthorien, thanking the elf as she bid both Bilbo and Shana a see you later from the Khōn. It wasn't long to get there, passing their temporary home and then turning at right down to a rather busy road.

She wasn't expecting that people were training at this time, but then again: they weren't the typical elven and dwarven warriors or soldiers she knew.

Several were using physical weapons, using metal swords to wooden quarterstaffs. But others (typically ones she remembered travelling with Mithrellas) were using sorcery instead. A mixture of eldritch magic and even elven magic was shown and she tried all she could not stare in awe of how elegant and vicious they fought.

If Maedhros had a few more decades of training, he might be able to use magic in fighting better than he was now.

Maglor was right to take him to his friend then if this was the level of combat magic he could touch upon.

After snapping herself from ogling, Illyria found a quiet spot in the large training yard. She stretched herself for the first few minutes, wincing at the bruises and the scars she now had since returning to Middle Earth six months ago. All were reminders of what she had gone through. The tough training she endured as well as the most deadly battle in her home.

She redid her braid, now in its usual hairstyle before she took a breath and gripped the wooden quarterstaff she had taken from the rack in storage.

Illyria went through her basic patterns first, keeping her breathing controlled as she tried to move in a fluid dance in her available space. Most of the time she had a partner when practising, usually Maedhros or Wong. Sometimes America Chavez if she was visiting Kamar-Taj and was able to find her – mostly training with Master Hamir on her dimensional magic.

Thankfully she did wear footwear this time and didn't wear her armour and robes due to the heat. Her tunic was wrapped with a belt and her trousers were tucked in to stop herself from tripping but flowing enough with her body to allow air to cool her skin.

But her focus kept going, her surroundings remaining part of her concentration. She allowed her own magic to coarse through herself, bringing a sense of thrum and excitement as she twirled at her heels and jabbed at the air with her staff.

Her breathing thickened, growing shallower as she then lost herself and began to sense more and more until she felt that one familiar soul that had been at the back of her senses all this time.

Illyria halted, trying to bring her breath back as she lowered her staff.

Staring at nothing, she spoke out loud to the person behind her, "You've been following me."

Turning her heels, Illyria found herself looking at a rather tall yet lithe ellon.

A rather suspiciously familiar-looking ellon.

Or maybe she was just hallucinating again. The heat perhaps? But she's been in weirder (and hotter) places before.

Then when he began to speak, his eyes seemed to glow a little brighter. Those eerily blue eyes matched exactly like Maglor's.

Just like Nimrodel's and Daeron's.

Even Mithrellas had them.

"I have."

If he hadn't spoken through her thought process she would have dug even more deeper into what connected them all. But when the elf spoke, her mind stopped at that tone.

He continued, "Though I wonder how you managed to see me? I'm quite good at hiding in plain sight."

Illyria studied him, what did he mean by hiding in plain sight? Had he been watching her literally every moment they'd been here? Even when she was in the bathroom as well?

Hopefully not or else she was going to whack the stick in her hand directly where the sun didn't shine, thank you very much.

He should be lucky that she wasn't pissed off and just more confused as to why he even showed himself. Did he expect her to say something different? She didn't know the ellon at all.

With a shrug, she shrugged and told him, "Just a half-Aini thing."

It was then the ellon smiled, a tint of amusement and almost jester-like as he bowed his head and introduced himself. "Limroval at your service."

With an eyebrow arched, Illyria noted attentively: "You speak Sindarin."

(She was about to say something more along the lines of 'You speak Sindarin with an accent I've heard from up North' but with the amount of Silvan and Avari elves about, it would just make the constant glances at her worse.)

Limroval grinned and commented, "It's my first language. Silvan was my second language."

Well, that covers that then...but not the fact that she still couldn't put a finger on why she thought she knew him from somewhere.

"You look familiar," She hummed, peering a narrow gaze up to him. No: she definitely knew him from somewhere...especially the facial features and the way how he made those tiniest facial expressions.

He then answered in a drawling voice, "Well you are married to my nephew, well strictly speaking your old self married him—"

Wait a minute—

Illyria opened her mouth as she trailed out, "You're..."

"Elurín!"

The ellon in question winced as Illyria's concentration snapped into the direction of the voice.

"Well that scratches out the other name," She blandly let out before recognizing what she just said.

But of course the other elephant in the room...this was Elurín. Elurín son of Dior and Nimloth right in front of her. Who is in fact – and supposedly and canonically – dead as fuck.

What the heck?

And also why is she even surprised? Half of the people she knew nowadays that were supposed to be dead aren't. And if she didn't meet them, she should just suspect that they were somehow alive somewhere, wherever they may be hiding. She wondered what was next on the list; maybe even people she knew like Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff would be alive then.

If she ever did find them alive: Illyria's next conclusion was just to groan and facepalm at this entire ordeal.

Unfortunately, a certain elleth was currently striding across the training yard, her distinctive armour worn from the first time Illyria saw her. Her hair was now in multiple braids, beads tied at the end as she held an imposing strong gaze. She could see the respect people gave, even nodding back at her whilst they paused their training.

Illyria could tell from the beginning that like Nimrodel: she was not one to mess with.

Even for the Sinda ellon in front of her.

Mithrellas was still walking as she shouted towards them, "Elurín Limroval, how many times do I have to tell you to stop coming here and haul your behind back up to your station!"

Inhaling, Elurín Limroval closed his eyes and without a doubt, muttered: "Quendi these days never have the breathing space..."

"Limroval—"

As Mithrellas stepped at the side of the silver-haired ellon, she paused once her eyes laid upon Illyria. She realised that Mithrellas was her height; the first time she hadn't noticed it and it was probably due to how she held herself with such poise.

When her anger diminished, Mithrellas relaxed and folded her arms over her chest – giving Elurín a glance. "Oh? Decided to finally show yourself?"

Illyria creased her brow and questioned him, "You've been avoiding me?"

His face immediately changed into a sympathetic expression; guilt was written slightly that she could have sworn felt almost familiar to Elrond's. "Lokachari's suggested I shouldn't show myself until you are accustomed and trusting to us," Elurín told her, quirking his lips slightly as he added, "And considering we'll be going south it would be good to get acquainted before going on a near-death experience."

Ah, should have suspected Maglor was onto this. It confused her, though. She wouldn't have reacted as much if she met Elurín unexpectedly. In truth: it would have made her trust Maglor even more now that the rumour that the Peredhil twins (Elrond's uncle) were alive. They didn't die in the sacking of Menegroth then.

However: where was his brother then?

Illyria knew to keep her mouth shut, knowing it would be stepping out of line if she just bombarded him with questions. Instead, she focused on the other curiosity that left her lips.

She asked, "You're coming with us?"

Elurín nodded, a smug smirk as he answered, "Of course. I tend to travel with Lokachari from time to time."

"And most of the time he returns with news that he had caused World War Three or the next elven civil war...or accidentally kill or sleep with someone out of history," Mithrellas snorted.

Uh what?

"That was one time!" He shot a glare to the elleth.

Illyria raised a brow.

Mithrellas simply gave him a deadpanned look. "Leonardo Da Vinci? Really?"

"He was good with his hands!"

A choke left her mouth, causing her free hand to thump against her chest.

Right...well that wasn't what she was expecting but considering how the ellon in question was now a few shades pinker than before – it made her grin at the bickering the two had. These two may have just made things just more confusing for Illyria, but there was a sort of comfort in seeing these two interact. Almost like a sibling way.

It almost reminded her of Maedhros.

Even Glorfindel...

"There's a reason why I prefer ellith," Mithrellas murmured before she nudged her chin directly at the peredhel. She ordered, "Now go. Or so help me Eru that one day I'll be having to drag you back from the dead just to kill you myself."

With a gentle pat on her shoulder, Illyria refrained a smile at how Mithrellas' eyes softened whilst Elurín laughed in a song-like tone, "Always so kind and caring 'Threllas." Turning back to her, Elurín smiled sincerely before telling her, "It's lovely to meet you, dearest niece-in-law. We should talk sometime."

Illyria simply nodded, returning a small smile as both Mithrellas and Elurín walked out of the training yard – letting her stand with her staff for a few good seconds.

Those few minutes finally caught her, with only one question describing everything she just experienced.

'What the fuck just happened?'

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It wasn't just the conversation with Elurín Limroval (an odd epessë but then again, her's is eternal so...) that caught her off guard and finally made her ignore practically everything she had done for the few days.

The moment she finished, Illyria Strange left the training yards filled with just pure concern and distrust. Everything she looked at now seemed it could kill her, afraid to even touch the food Bilbo pushed at her by the time dinner came around. Even Shana eyed her with concern, asking her best with very broken Sindarin (apparently Daeron was teaching her both Sindarin and Silvan). Bless her, Illyria only knew she was just trying to comfort her and she appreciated it.

However: she just couldn't get the terrible annoying questions in her mind.

It was as if she was back in Rivendell for the first time. Back when Elrond told everyone in the city to pretend that she wasn't reincarnated and that she 'definitely' didn't look like their former Lady of Rivendell at all. Warning bells rang inside her mind, and the growing ache in her mind forced her to decline the lesson Maglor had for the evening.

Thank Vishanti that Maglor simply didn't question why she was feeling sick or having a migraine. Though when Illyria searched for his soul, guilt grew in her heart when she sensed him feeling bad about himself to even guilt. Maglor felt as if he was pushing her too much.

But if she told him the real reason why it would just make him even more reclusive and she didn't want that.

If she was going to know what was wrong with all of this: she was going to do it herself.

And the best way she was going to do it was the Strange way.

Which was either snoop about or strike up a conversation with somebody she knew would have answers.

The good thing about Maglor's lessons was that Illyria finally managed to improve her newfound abilities. Detecting souls around her was a general basis that she began to learn after Ravenhill, and she was almost able to detect specific souls depending on which world or dimension they were in – whether they were of earth or of Arda. She managed to distinguish between the Quendi and the Humans, even Dwarrow and Hobbits. It was easy to sense even the Aini-spirit of her brother and why she knew she believed that Elurín said who he was.

But detecting specific ones in a controlled matter was now something she was beginning to grasp onto. Sensing her husband or anyone she was either related or had a relationship with was true, but people she didn't know entirely?

That was why she might as well use the night as her own training: by figuring out where Mithrellas was in Arthorien.

Her fëa resonated much like most elves but a little different to the ones she was used to. Though some others in Arthorien sort of did as well compared to the elves north. Illyria struggled to pinpoint exactly where but luckily found herself clambering up the spiral staircase up to the tower adjacent to the Khōn.

When they were discussing the different places in Arthorien, Daeron didn't lie about the Watcher's Tower being the tallest point in Arthorien.

Being built on top of basically a plateau, she could almost spot the green patch of Raj at the very top. The top of the tower was built and protected, with a balcony at the edges in all parts whilst there seemed to be machinery and tables at the centre. No light was present and Illyria had to trust herself not to be an idiot and trip on anything.

Once she arrived outside, Illyria felt a gentle breeze brush her skin. It was cool up here despite the dome-shaped shield surrounding the entire place. On the northern side, she noticed Raj – realizing how small it was compared to the vast desert and arid landscape. She realised then how much it stretched, from the western side all the way to the east where she noticed several dots of light and buildings. From the maps Maglor and Dalolthar showed, the east was supposedly Greater Harad whilst the west was once Ciryatandor.

When she walked around, she was surprised no one was up here or had told her not to be there. Though her worries about being caught subsided as she now realised what was on the south side of the tower.

Beyond the vast desert plains was a mountain range. They almost replicated the size of the Misty Mountains, vast and long as they literally stretched across the horizon. Her mouth slackened as she stared at the beauty, the moon gleaming down as she noticed the snow caps and the jagged silhouettes.

For a moment she remembered where she was.

A place so far away from home.

Beyond those mountains, who knows what they would find in a couple of days? Would it be more deserts and desolation? Or vast amounts of jungle and forestry that they could forever get lost in? Maybe it was nothing: just an endless ocean.

'The place of the known and unknown...'

"You should not be up here."

Her head turned abruptly, finding herself relaxing at who it was.

Dressed in the same clothes though with a cloak around her, Mithrellas looked at her sternly as she noted, "You might not know it, but—" She nudged her chin towards her as she gestured. "You are a beacon to the enemies here. With your Valinorean light which surrounds you."

"Ah," Illyria sheepishly scratched her arm and pulled her sleeves down. She forgot she was like a walking glowstick in the dark. "Sorry, I was just hoping I could see what else is up here."

Mithrellas didn't respond, merely looking at her. Though after a moment, her shoulders relaxed as she exhaled and gestured for her to come inside. "Inside you'll still be able to look out without exposing us."

With a thank you, she followed her back into the central room – glancing back between the landscape as well as the elleth who had decided to completely stand still and say nothing. Right, she should probably add some small talk before asking Mithrellas more about why she even was here in the first place.

Illyria then eyed the mountains and asked back, "Have you ever passed the mountains?"

There was a second of silence until Mithrellas walked to her side and looked in the same direction – her eye strained through the clear window.

"Once," She answered, her accent feeling a little too thick for Sindarin. Mithrellas continued, "A very long time ago, there was an expedition to find what was beyond the Orocarni."

By the bland and almost echoing tone of Mithrellas' voice: Illyria speculated how that expedition turned out to be.

"Almost all had died save by a few," There was a coldness in her tone, a pain which she recognized often nowadays. "After that, we placed a rule that none should pass through the mountains. We placed a mining settlement on this side to stop those from attempting to pass over."

"I looked at the maps. It said there are settlements on the southeastern side."

"That's the only route to pass through. However, Sîrayn controls the route and heavily monitors those who come through," Mithrellas' lips thinned before she could continue. "We have thought of other means, even portalling through. That was how we did it the first time...but now we don't have a reason why we should."

Illyria spoke, "Until we turned up." Her eyes looked across to her, eyeing the elleth as she continued. "The reason why we're here is to find some people to help us cross and find whatever is beyond those mountains and figure out why Lúthien told Maglor to go there in the first place."

A sharp inhale left her mouth. Mithrellas looked at her, her blue irises piercing across to her's whilst she said, "That is not the real reason why you want to go south, is it?"

"No," Well there was no reason to lie now as Illyria admitted solemnly. "Partially the reason of Maglor's mission, but also because I dreamt of what was beyond those mountains."

Her eyes lingered back at the landscape. The same landscape she had seen in her dreams. From the drawings she had back when she was still Elemmírë.

The same dreams that were calling to her right now.

"Dreams are dangerous," Mithrellas seemed to almost warn her, despite the cold tone she posed as she added, "I have experienced a lot of people take them to account. Many mistakes have been made when following dreams and visions. And despite not having the same lessons you have in the Mystic Arts; I have learnt from Lokachari to be careful about what we see beyond the physical realm."

Illyria's eyes widened. "Did he teach you all?" She clarified, stumbling a little at her words. "I mean the Mystic Arts."

"Yes," A small smile appeared at the corner of her lips but quickly disappeared as Mithrellas explained, "He made certain that all of the guardians and those wishing to learn to know the theory and the basics. After Arthorien was growing to a reasonable size and he had more developed students, we then taught the newer elves how to master dimensional magic before grasping elven ones."

She breathed in, "He taught you proper elven sorcery then." Illyria couldn't help but smile fondly, remembering the past few days as she watched several younger elves practice eldritch forms and portals. There were even those who were learning elven sorcery, sitting down, and watching them grow or heal plants.

"You are right to not trust Maglor Fëanorian." Hearing his real name from Mithrellas' mouth made her give a double-take. Not once had she heard anyone say his real full name, which could only mean that they didn't know he was even called Maglor or that only a few did.

Illyria wanted to ask why but Mithrellas seemed to continue.

"At the beginning I never did. Sometimes I still don't for the sake of knowing him for many years." Mithrellas told her, her eyes never wavering as she spoke, "I do not trust him, not because I hate him for what he is known in the north. That he is a kinslayer and killer. I would be a hypocrite if I hated him for killing. I do not trust him because his mission makes it difficult for anyone else to trust him in return."

Illyria now faced her, her concentration now at Mithrellas.

"Arthorien was merely a side plan for the sake of the greater aspect. A mission which enabled him to have supplies to support his goals and to undertake what is needed for the true goal – which is to stop this impending doom which you call Dagor Dagorath." Mithrellas inhaled, her voice growing bitter at the end until she softened it and continued. "We may be a part of his council and that you see him to care for us. But in the end, we are indispensable. We are no more than his own army. Protectors to those the multiverse has ruined because of their existence."

Her mouth shut before she could speak. A cold shiver entered her heart before it began to heat up.

Surely she was lying, right? Maglor wouldn't be so cold, wouldn't he? He wouldn't save these people just because he needed people that could follow him.

Instead of answers, all Illyria got was more questions coming up here.

Lost in everything she just said, Illyria responded, "You accept it, though." Slowly she began to recognize what Mithrellas was trying to tell her.

It wasn't that Mithrellas hated him.

It was because Mithrellas understood and accepted the consequences she was in. What they were all in.

"I have accepted it a long time ago that following Maglor would risk my life. Though then again I should be dead or forced to wander this world until the end," The elleth revealed, her hand which rested at her side rising to show a ring upon her finger. Mithrellas looked at it, a flicker of sadness upon the edge of her tone. "I had to lose a lot of people...but I've also gained some. People who I didn't realise I would get to know."

Illyria remained quiet, her mind crossing again of the ring she was also given before she left. And the ring she left behind to the elf she loved.

"You chose this life..." Illyria tailed off; the revelation was noticeable as she stared back at her. "Not because you knew you would be alive but because you would live in a place that would accept you even if you know the world won't be able to accept you with it."

Just like someone she knew.

Even her...and every person she had come to cross and love for who they were, and now what they meant to the world.

Mithrellas' eyes were glassy despite concealing it as best as she could. But Illyria sensed in her fëa the respect she had for her. The way her lips turned slightly as she spoke, "You remind me of someone I once knew." She said, "She even almost looked like you. Lighter hair and grey eyes."

Illyria paused and listened.

"She was very happy as a child. Always laughing. Human," Mithrellas finished, and to Illyria's surprise almost exposed a painful expression upon her face. But she quickly hid it as she turned back to Illyria and continued, "She was someone to which everyone in Arthorien loved."

She didn't need to ask what happened to her, only to ask in return: "What was her name?"

"Liliana," She replied, clearing her throat before she continued. "A unique name for someone so full of joy. But none could deny how much her presence affected us. Especially Lokachari. Most of us tended to be affected at the beginning of arriving at Arda but after a few years, our fëa would grow accustomed to its own resonance. But not her...it didn't seem to have the same effect."

Nodding, Illyria pondered at what she said. It sounded familiar but maybe she heard it from somewhere.

"Wait," Illyria halted and creased her brow, sending a questionable glance at her. "What did you mean arriving in Arda?"

Once the words filtered through, Mithrellas had almost tightened in her spot. Her face morphed in a shock before she looked at her.

That was when she revealed something she was definitely not expecting.

"He hasn't told you," She peered back. "Do you not sense it?"

Illyria questioned warily, "Told me what? And sense what?"

Mithrellas then answered, "That we're not from your universe at all. Almost all of us aren't." She revealed, "We're Arfanyarossë."

To say it took her a moment to translate what it meant was embarrassing enough. But not enough for Illyria to feel the entirety of the room crumble in her mind.

Because every person she had met she thought was dead was in fact not them at all.

They were all variants.

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A/N: And that is the twist. :) I can probably see the shock slowly moulding onto Illyria's face realising literally everything to do with the issues of variants. Cough cough incursions etc. But I will be playing fluidly with the context of the topic, just because I want the variants to get involved somehow and will play a role in the future.

I'm going to be out travelling for a month so gonna treat you guys with two more updates. ;)

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Edited: 20/03/2023